My fears were realized. That mound in the Racism Hatred Justice shirt. Dark soil poured out, bubbling out of the wounds like boiling water. The ice was quick to cover it, but the earth did not stop moving – it took form – consolidating into packed clumps of encrusted soil, the ends splitting and taking form into fingers. Hands. There were hands coming up out of the earth, formed of dirt, veined with white lines of frost, coated with ice like glassy skin. A multitude of them, like a field of flowers blooming.
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She didn’t make it very far. The ground cracked beneath her and the ice wrapped around it as it disintegrated, encasing the Racism Hatred Justice shirt, and icy fingers clutched at her ankles. She tumbled forwards, landing hard on her chest and stomach, and clawed at the soil in front of her, trying to find purchase, but the earth was frozen hard as stone. The grass snapped as she raked at it, the slivers of ice biting into her fingers like needles and her hands prickled with agony. Her blood flowed sluggishly from the wounds and even its warmth could not melt the ice around her.