UCTOOT CH151.2

“You’re… the Thing in the Snow…”

With a sickening tear, David was ripped to shreds. Blood sprayed against the cabinet slats with a wet slap. The creature had spiraled into an absolute frenzy; its cloven hooves clattered back and forth across the concrete, its bloated skull crashing into the hanging lamp with harsh creaks, and its colossal, grotesque hands flailed wildly, guttural roars venting its fury.

The entire basement reverberated with the monster’s wrath. A swirling red mist choked the cramped space into near-total darkness, like an apocalyptic nightmare.

Fighting down the suffocating stench of gore in the air, Shi Shu willed his body to remain utterly motionless and silent.

[System: There is no time to mourn David or Michael. You have confirmed that the entity possesses overwhelming monstrous power, completely beyond your ability to fight. Why on earth did it disguise itself as your husband to live with you? Why is it so obsessed with whether you have seen through its identity?]

The Thing in the Snow? What did David’s final words mean? Shi Shu’s head felt ready to burst, cold sweat drenching his clothes.

Gradually, the crisp clinking of glass bottles sounded outside the cabinet doors.

When Shi Shu dared peer through the seam again, the monster had vanished.

Where had it gone? Had it left? Suddenly, the distinct cadence of human footsteps echoed in the room.

The overhead bulb flickered on. Standing in the center of the basement was his “husband,” “Michael”—that strikingly handsome man with East Asian features. At some point, he had changed back into his flannel pajamas, the collar slightly unbuttoned, strolling unhurriedly amid the pool of blood and severed remains.

Like an ordinary husband selecting a vintage for Christmas Eve, he lightly hummed a tune—if not for the butchered gore strewn blatantly beneath the glare of the light bulb.

“It’s far too messy down here. Can’t let Jenny see this,” he murmured, lifting a bottle of California Burgundy. “Berries, dark plums, and raisins… Mm, but it doesn’t quite suit tonight’s weather.”

Shi Shu’s scalp prickled with dread as the footsteps drew nearer, heading straight toward the cabinet where he hid.

“A bottle of Mateus, perhaps? A Christmas gift from last year—quite fitting to open tonight.”

Shi Shu broke out in a cold sweat. Is he going to open this cabinet?

“A dry Cabernet Sauvignon, or Blue Nun?” His voice carried an eerie, lilting cadence. “A rare occasion like this calls for something a bit more expensive.”

“How about a Pinot Noir? That sparkling aroma is unforgettable.” The glass bottle was set back onto the rack. The footsteps came closer still, close enough for Shi Shu to hear fingernails scraping across the wooden slats of the cabinet. He seemed genuinely troubled over which wine to pick, pacing back and forth like a ghost haunting the cellar.

After a brief pause, the footsteps turned back in his direction.

Tap… tap… Sweat pooled in Shi Shu’s palms.

Just as the steps drew inches away and Shi Shu braced himself for a desperate struggle, the movement halted.

“Lambrusco. This is the one. A glass for Jenny right after her bath—simply perfection.”

A drop of sweat dripped from Shi Shu’s brow to the floor. The footsteps began to recede, moving steadily toward the stairwell. Shi Shu let out a long, ragged exhale, expelling the suffocating terror trapped in his lungs.

He carefully eased the cabinet door open and stepped out. His legs felt like lead, throat trembling uncontrollably as he dragged his heavy feet around David’s remains.

He had to get back to the bathroom immediately before the creature realized he had ever come down.

Shi Shu’s nerves were wound tight, locked in full fight-or-flight mode. As he crept up the stairs, “Michael” was standing with his back turned, uncorking the wine and humming a popular tune.

Shi Shu cracked the bathroom door open, quickly chucking his discarded clothes into the hamper to hide the flecks of blood. He took a lightning-fast rinse to act like he had just finished a leisurely bath, and opened the door.

With only women’s dresses in the closet, Shi Shu opted to wear his “husband’s” oversized button-down shirt and trousers, rolling up the cuffs and smoothing the sleeves as he emerged. To his shock, “Michael” was waiting right outside the door.

Leaning casually against the doorframe with a glass of red wine in hand, the young husband smiled down at him: “Why are you wearing my clothes? You’ve dressed yourself up like a little treat.”

[System: You look at the gentle, good-tempered husband before you and feel an unprecedented wave of nausea. You no longer have any desire to entertain his flirtations; his sweet words sound like rancid, expired cream, turning your stomach. After everything in the basement, you have seen his true face. Looking at him is like staring into the eyes of an unrecognizable, twisted aberration.]

Shi Shu touched the rim of the wine glass before pulling his fingers back. His mind was entirely consumed by David’s dying words—

The Thing in the Snow.

That was the true form of this “husband.” Had he kept David in the basement just to interrogate him about what Shi Shu said when seeking help this morning? What was he so afraid of? Afraid that Shi Shu had seen through his disguise? Shi Shu remembered David being torn to pieces. If he called him out as a monster to his face, that would be his own fate as well.

The Thing in the Snow…

Shi Shu recalled the radio broadcast the creature had shut off. He waited patiently until his “husband” stepped into the bathroom, then quickly flicked the radio on, frantically scanning the stations. The blizzard remained the only news in town, until he finally locked back onto that eerie folklore program. The two hosts were already nearing the end of their segment:

“If you encounter a ‘Thing in the Snow’ that replaces the dead to return home, and stall until the blizzard clears without validating its identity, it should dissipate, right?”

“Certainly not. With its violent temper, it’ll tear you apart in its final moments…”

Footsteps sounded from behind. Shi Shu swiftly turned the dial to another frequency: “This week-long blizzard is forecasted to pause in two days—”

Frowning, “Michael” reached out and snapped it off once more.

A clammy chill crept up his spine as arms wrapped around him from behind. Kisses began to brush against his neck. “I love you.” The creature’s gaze was feverish and damp, gently licking Shi Shu’s ear. “Do you love me?”

[System: Your husband solicits your intimacy with familiar affection, but your heart has turned to cold ash.]

Unable to take it anymore, Shi Shu let his knees go weak, sinking toward the floor: “I don’t feel well.”

The husband asked with apparent concern, “Honey, ever since I returned yesterday, you’ve seemed off.”

Shi Shu muttered, “Maybe it’s because I waited up for you all night. I caught a chill.”

“Poor little baby. Want me to kiss it better?”

[System: You deflect your husband’s advances while connecting every piece of information. The “husband” before you is the monster mentioned by David and the radio, an entity that replaces the deceased during blizzards to return home. The real Michael is dead—perhaps murdered by this very creature.]

[System: The blizzard will stop tomorrow. Your time is running out.]

He could not validate its identity, or the monster would remain forever.

Yet he could not expose it either, or he would be butchered on the spot.

The only way out was to stall until the snow stopped, denying it confirmation so that it would vanish alongside the storm.

But does that creature look like something that would fade away peacefully?

Feigning a cold, Shi Shu lay in bed, secretly tracking his “husband’s” every move. Whenever he wasn’t under direct surveillance, he stealthily turned on the radio, listening to the weather forecasts over and over.

“Folks, this blizzard feels like it’s never going to let up. On a brighter note, tonight is Christmas Eve—don’t miss the midnight carols at twelve!”

“With the passing of the cold front and daytime warming, the blizzard is expected to clear by Christmas night—”

Shi Shu slipped out of bed barefoot, his feet padding across the freezing floorboards to the front door. Outside in the yard, the husband was shoveling snow. Pretending to help, Shi Shu walked out and quietly inspected the condition of the old Ford.

Night fell. Shi Shu kept himself busy setting up decorations for Christmas Day. As long as he stayed occupied, the monster had no opening to force physical intimacy. Yet when Shi Shu pulled the tablecloth into crumpled wrinkles, snipped the holly branches crookedly, and snapped a branch off the tree while hanging ornaments, the husband looked around the room and chuckled.

“I swear, I’ve never seen a wife as adorable as you.”

Cedar boughs, ribbons, balloons, the Christmas tree, colorful gifts wrapped in glitter paper, and a life-sized stuffed teddy bear standing against the snowy window backdrop.

“Just like that. Forget the damn blizzard; tonight is just for the two of us,” the husband whispered from behind with mounting intrigue. “Babe, what gift did you prepare for me?”

Shi Shu shoved the oversized bear headpiece over his own head and yelled, “Boo!”

The monster theatrically feigned being startled, then broke into a fond smile: “Looks like you’ve prepared plenty of surprises.”

[System: You intentionally deliver emotional, heartfelt words.]

Shi Shu forced out the act with great effort: “Yeah. I have a lot I want to say to you too.”

[System: Even if this monster stays behind as Michael, he will always be a counterfeit. Your resolve is set.]

Shi Shu ground out the words one by one: “My career didn’t go well this year… I kept losing inspiration and causing trouble. Thank you for moving out here with me. It’s Christmas again, and I want to tell you… I—”

“Michael” stared intently into Shi Shu’s face, breath held, waiting for those definitive words.

As long as he received validation from the person this body loved most, he would not dissolve when the blizzard ceased; he would obtain eternity.

Shi Shu hesitated, cutting himself off. After a pause, he drew a sealed envelope from his coat pocket: “It’s too cheesy to say aloud. Everything I want to say to you is written in here. When you hear the Christmas chimes strike, come open it.” He tilted the bear head: “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Greed and delight surged across the creature’s face. He reached out to tear the envelope open immediately. Shi Shu thought, Just as I suspected, close one! Then he gave him a puzzled look: “I’m still sealing the letter inside; why are you in such a rush?”

The husband offered an apologetic smile, then wrapped his arms around Shi Shu: “I love you, my darling, my angel.”

Nearing midnight, the storm outside began to taper off. Shi Shu sealed the envelope. Turning his head, he saw “Michael” pacing restlessly between the hallway and the bedroom. As the storm weakened, his agitation spiked.

Shi Shu stood up. Donning the bulky teddy bear head in front of Michael, he said with casual ease, “Wait for me in the bedroom. When the radio strikes midnight for the Christmas chimes, come out and read my letter. I’ve prepared a gift for you.”

Michael’s expression smoothed: “Alright. I look forward to it.”

The instant the bedroom door clicked shut behind him, Shi Shu tore off the bear head! The rough fabric scraped his ears raw and red. His heart pounding in his throat, he grabbed pre-gathered piles of old clothes, stuffing them into the bear suit to fill out a life-sized form, propping the envelope into its padded paw.

Glancing at the round clock on the wall, Shi Shu clicked the radio on. Stepping backward, he slipped out toward the timber porch.

“Ten seconds until Christmas, folks! Ten, nine, eight, seven, six…” the radio host’s enthusiastic voice boomed.

[System: Exactly 12:00. Bong—bong—bong—]

The Christmas chimes rang out over the airwaves, followed by the opening notes of “White Christmas,” filling the snow-draped cabin with festive warmth. Amid the music, Shi Shu dashed frantically toward the old Ford in the yard—he had topped off the gas and warmed the engine earlier that afternoon.

Yet the biting cold had frozen the car door nearly shut. He yanked it open, dived behind the windshield, and turned the key. It sputtered and failed three times before the engine finally roared to life.

Through the panoramic living room window, he saw his husband step out of the bedroom, striding eagerly toward the life-sized bear seated beneath the tree. The creature snatched the letter from the bear’s paw with feverish greed, too impatient to notice anything amiss.

He tore the letter open.

Through the frigid wind, Shi Shu slammed his foot on the gas, and the Ford surged forward.

Inside the envelope was no sweet confession.

Only a single line:

“You are not Michael. You are the Thing in the Snow.”

Looking back one last time, an earth-shattering roar of pure, apocalyptic rage erupted from within the cabin. The “husband” tore the letter to shreds, then violently ripped the stuffed bear apart.

The instant the toy was shredded, the concealed slow-burning tinder met the air and detonated into a ball of flame. Fed by the high-proof liquor Shi Shu had doused it with, the Christmas tree caught fire in a flash, the blaze leaping toward the stack of firewood by the hearth.

The leaping inferno instantly scorched half his face off.

Those somber, handsome features began to melt, skin dripping down in foul tatters. A monstrous silhouette nearly three meters tall burst through the human disguise. With a shattering smash, a massive fist obliterated the glass window. Letting out a piercing shriek, it bounded across the snow in terrifying leaps, closing the distance to the Ford.

“Holy shit.” Shi Shu was genuinely at his limit. He gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, slamming the accelerator to the floorboards—

The Ford sped through the snowdrifts, barreling into the woodland path. The night was pitch-black. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw only a tall, flaming specter pursuing him, shrieking with ungodly, ear-piercing wails.

The flames engulfing its frame seemed to hinder its speed. Gritting his teeth, Shi Shu wrestled the wheel to guide the car up the mountain ridge, cold sweat pouring down his body despite the freezing winter air.

Navigating solely by moonlight, the car tossed violently like a vessel on choppy seas. The creature’s shrieks behind him kept his adrenaline spiking. He floored the pedal, the old Ford rattling as if it would break apart at any moment, the wipers slapping wildly across the glass while howling winds roared in his ears!

He had no idea how far he drove, but the snowflakes slapping the windshield grew thinner and sparser. The blizzard was ending.

Shi Shu glanced back. The emaciated, towering monstrosity had dragged itself up the slope, extending a clawed arm in a desperate reach to grasp him.

Yet with a feeble, dying hiss, it collapsed to its knees in the snow.

Shi Shu’s eyes remained fixed on the falling creature, still wrestling the wheel with the pedal pinned down, when suddenly the tires struck an obstacle. His forehead slammed hard against the steering wheel, his vision rippling into darkness.

Excruciating pain tore through his skull as the old Ford vaulted over a three-foot ditch and slammed violently into a tree stump on the far side. Letting out a cry of agony, Shi Shu completely blacked out.

He had no idea how much time had passed.

When Shi Shu opened his eyes, the crisp chirping of birds filled his ears. His head throbbed with a splitting headache, the blurred steering wheel gradually coalescing back into focus. Golden sunlight spilled into the rusty interior, wrapping him in faint warmth.

Pushing the car door open, he stepped out. Behind him stood a sprawling forest of towering white pines, sunlight filtering through the boughs.

Shi Shu looked toward the spot where the Thing in the Snow had fallen. Nothing remained save a faint three-meter-long depression in the snowdrifts, as if a giant had taken a brief nap there and vanished upon waking.

Squinting against the brilliant sunshine, the system text flashed before his eyes:

[Congratulations on clearing the stage—]

[Current Scenario: The Thing in the Snow]

[Before the blizzard ceases, do not open the door to strangers. The one who returns may not be the one you awaited.]

“Ugh, my head hurts…” Stepping through the snow, he suddenly spotted a crumpled body lying not far away.

Shi Shu froze, walking over to inspect it. The corpse was already frozen stiff, dressed in a dark wool overcoat and a winter hood. A few strands of reddish hair peeked out past the ears; the face was pale and freckled, of average height and slight build.

“Gentle, honest, and plain… this was the real Michael, wasn’t it?”

In his frozen arms, he cradled a frostbitten bouquet of flowers: a few freesia stalks, sprigs of holly, and a bunch of baby’s breath. Tucked amid the blossoms was a holiday card.

Shi Shu pulled out the card. Inscribed upon it was a line of handwriting:

“Merry Christmas. —Love, Michael.”

Taking a deep breath, Shi Shu sighed softly and brushed the snow from the card.

Just as he prepared to exit the game, a system prompt popped up before his eyes:

[Supervisor detected entering the current scenario. About to enter a new extra scenario: [Confirm] / [Decline]]

Shi Shu: “?”

Shi Shu clicked [Confirm].

The very next second, the frozen corpse on the ground began to shift, morphing into a tall, broad-shouldered man with pitch-black hair and dark eyes.

The very same East Asian face that had kissed him incessantly—a character model pulled from who-knew-where, inexplicably inserted into this Western horror scenario.

Shi Shu yelled, “Wait, wait, wait, hold on! HEY!!!”

The flowers in the man’s arms transformed into white narcissus and mistletoe, symbolizing home, kisses, and holiday warmth.

The ink on the card flaked away, replaced by newly embossed handwriting:

[Merry Christmas.
—Love, Xie Wuchi]