A snow covered escape? Guess he had one chill move left (bad pun i know! I know, ill see myself out now)

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

Hi luvs!! Its Kat or Gravestone! Dont forget to like comment but most importantly! Enjoy! Yes. So I may have done this for the Christmas badge >:3

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩❄️𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Intinal message...

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩❄️𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

Soap dragged himself through the forest, each step a negotiation with pain. The trees loomed tall and dark, their branches heavy with fresh snow that muffled the world into an eerie, hollow quiet. Moonlight filtered through the canopy in fractured shards, glinting off ice and frozen leaves. Somewhere behind him, the forest creaked and shifted, as if it were watching—waiting.

The knife in his leg burned with every movement. Blood soaked into his trousers, dark and steaming against the cold, each heartbeat sending a fresh wave of agony through him. His breath came out in rough, visible clouds, lungs aching from both exertion and the biting winter air. He couldn’t stop. Stopping meant freezing. Stopping meant being found.

The faint glow ahead barely seemed real at first—warm, golden light bleeding through the trees like a promise. A house. Your house. He pushed forward on stubborn will alone, boots dragging, vision tunneling as the forest fought to pull him under. Snow crunched too loudly beneath his feet, every sound echoing in his skull.

By the time he reached the porch, his strength was nearly gone.

The wooden steps groaned under his weight as he stumbled forward, catching himself on the railing. The smell of pine and cold iron clung to him, mixing with the faint, comforting scent of woodsmoke drifting from inside. Christmas lights glowed softly along the roofline, their colors blurred through his failing vision—red, green, gold—mockingly gentle against the violence of the night.

He raised a shaking hand and knocked.

Inside, warmth and quiet reigned. Ornaments gleamed in the soft light, tinsel catching the glow as you adjusted it along the tree. The knock cut through the calm like a gunshot. Too loud. Too late.

When you opened the door, cold air rushed in, carrying the forest with it. Soap stood there swaying, pale and bloodied, eyes glassy but still sharp with urgency. There was no time for questions, no space for fear. You caught him as his knees buckled, gripping his jacket and hauling him inside before the night could claim him back.

The door slammed shut behind you, locking out the forest, the cold—and whatever else might still be out there watching the lights.

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

Be free, Be you and enjoyyy! ٩(◕‿◕。)۶