I’ve never liked yard sales. When I was four, I sprained an ankle tripping over a broken broomstick. A couple years later, I was literally chased by a Rottweiler off someone’s lawn as my mother perused their used soccer cleats.

I wasn’t too sure about going to one again. But Frank insisted on dragging me along to a local rummage sale. Something about “bargain hunting” and “treasures hidden in paintings.” Frank really likes watching Antiques Roadshow.

So, after Frank led us both to the yard sale, Frank immediately began giddily looking over its contents. I lacked the same enthusiasm, especially since most of the “products” were just left over Christmas and Thanksgiving decorations. Everything else consisted of various junk that the house owner clearly just didn’t need anymore. “So much for Frank’s treasure hunting,” I thought.

Something did eventually catch my eye, though.

A simple snow globe, nestled amongst a nest of Christmas lights. I picked it up and looked it over. The globe was relatively generic. A simple white Christmas image: small village, children playing, and when I tapped on the side – yep, more snow.

I had no use for it myself, but I had a cousin whose birthday was coming around the following week, and I knew for a fact he kept a snow globe collection. He was very proud of it – he brought his entire collection to every single family gathering – and I was fairly certain that he didn’t have a snow globe with a little village inside.

I checked the Post-It note that announced its price. $12.99. I had brought 15 dollars worth of pocket money.

Frank was still mulling over a pile of inflatable turkeys as I walked up to the middle-aged man that was running the yard sale. He took the money, barely even looking at me through the whole exchange.

After I got Frank to stop trying to bargain for used jackets, I went home. Frank wouldn’t stop complaining about how I might’ve just dragged him out from becoming a millionaire, how those jackets might’ve been worth a lot, yada yada yada. I was more interested in checking out my snow globe.

I sat down at my desk and mulled over the thing. I didn’t know an awful lot about snow globes, but I could tell that it was pretty high-quality. I could pick out the individual expressions on the faces of the people inside.

After I scanned the snow globe, I gave it a shake. As I expected, snow flew everywhere. Little flakes of white blasted from their positions and dotted the roofs of the small cottages.

What I didn’t expect, however, was for a massive beam of snow to come out of nowhere and hit me straight in the face.

I was still sputtering and wiping snow off my face when a gust of freezing wind slammed into my side and knocked me to the floor. A second blow followed it, throwing me across the ground and sending me cartwheeling at least four times before I finally hit a mound of snow large enough to break my fall.

I scrambled to my feet. Snow. Snow as far as I could see. I was standing in the middle of a tundra instead of the middle of my room.

What the heck?

Then I felt the cold.

It was freezing. My teeth started chattering instantly. I wasn’t wearing anything but a pair of corduroys and a PowerWash Simulator t-shirt. I rubbed my hands down my arms, frantically looking in every direction.

There. I saw a light. Not too far, maybe a fifty feet or so. Without hesitation, I ran for it, my arms windmilling crazily. In a few minutes, I was at the front of what looked like a little village.

A man was waiting, dressed in a heavy coat and large wool cap. As I ran to him, he reached out with one large arm and grabbed me before hauling me into the nearest house and shut the door. I wasn’t sure if I was being kidnapped, or what, but I was just happy to be out of the cold.

The man set me down in a large armchair in front of a blazing fireplace. He dusted the snow off his cap and nodded at me.

“Greetings,” he said. Then he sat down in the chair opposite me.

“H-Hi,” I said. I stuck my hands out towards the fire. “W-where am I?”

The man shrugged. “We call this place Snow Wood, but there’s no official name or anything like that.”

I had warmed up a bit, and I looked back up at the man. He had a long, broad nose and a large jaw. His brown eyes were almost covered by his furry eyebrows.

Then I realized I recognized this man. He had been in the snow globe, standing near a tree, wielding an axe.

Was I in the snow globe? I thought, the feeling coming back to my hands again.

I shook my head as the man started talking again.

“How’d you get here? Dressed in that stuff, no less. It’s freezing out there.”

“Yeah, I found that out the hard way.” I said. The snow on my corduroys had melted and was now dowsing my legs in water. I scooched closer to the fireplace. “Do you have freezing winters here often?”

The man snorted. “Please. We have these 24/7. No one goes too far from Snow Wood because that storm never stops. I’ve lived here my whole life and all I remember is snow. My name’s Wim, by the way.”

“Alan,” I responded. “There’s no way out?”

“I’m sure,” Wim responded. “Looks like you’re stuck here for the time being. Why don’t we treat you to a stew while you’re at it? It’s a miracle you’re still alive.”

“…Uh, who’s ‘we’?”

I thought I noticed Wim stifling slightly.

“Sorry,” Wim said, a moment too long later. “I meant ‘I.’”

“…Alright.”

Ten minutes later, I had forgotten all about Wim’s suspicious activity. Wim had gone into a backroom and brought out two heaping bowls of beef stew that were both smoking hot. I ate half of my portion before my tongue even recognized how flaming it was. After I had slowed down, I looked back up at Wim.

He hadn’t touched any of his stew yet. But mine was already half done. I had eaten fast, but not that fast.

It took a couple moments for it to click in my mind. By then I had already slumped over the table.

I woke up again in a different room, my wrists tied together by a length of rope. My ankles shared the same fate. I tried struggling, but my hands were bound tight.

I looked up. The door was just a mere five feet away. I attempted crawling over, which wasn’t too hard. Turns out, elbows and knees are all you need to-

Scraappe.

I whirled around. Unbeknownst to me, the rope on my leg had been connected to a wooden stool. And, for whatever god forsaken reason, it was very, very loud.

The door opened. Wim appeared, clutching his iron lumber axe. I threw myself backwards, moving until my back hit the wall.

“Woah!” I cried. “Wait! What’s this?”

Wim walked forward. “Sorry about this, but we’re running very low on everything. The Elder says we needed an outside sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice? You sound like a cultist! …Actually ,considering the circumstances. you may very well be a cultist…”

Wim took another step. “With your blood, the storm will end…”

“But the storm ending might not be good, right? Then you’ll have these things called droughts, and they aren’t much better than snow storms, to be honest.”

Wim clutched the handle of his weapon tighter. “Your sacrifice will not be in vain…”

“I mean, that isn’t exactly comforting, considering I will still be dying sometime in the next ten seconds…”

Wim lifted the axe over his head. “And we will be free.”

“Wait!”

The axe came down.