It’s so cold
“Ii….iitt’sss sss...sso...cc..cold.” a broken voice slipped from the blue, frozen lips of the child. The colour of his lips seemed to seep into the rest of his face in cold blue veins. Tears glued his eyes shut with ice and the matted blonde hair stuck out like ice cycles. White clouds seeped from his lips paired with soft and quiet whimpers.
The child wore torn, patch-work trousers and the remains of a bloodied tunic, his feet were bare and blackened by the threat of being overcome with cold. He could no longer move them. His small skeletal body was stiff and his knees seemed to sandwich his arms permanently against his chest. Atop his knees clasped in an attempt to catch the breath he exhaled, his blackened hands grasped for the fleeting warmth.
Hell was not a place of fire but a barren wasteland of white, dotted with frostbit corpses.