"The Long Winter"

Dr. Glau shivered as he drove towards the military complex. Even with the truck's insulation, along with the heavy layers of clothing he was wearing, he could still feel the cold, if just barely. He saw two flashing red lights: the only way in this weather that he could realize he had arrived at his destination. He opened the door and walked towards the complex. The temperature was unbearable, but the clothes prevented him from dying of the cold, and so he trudged through the endless white landscape and into the complex. There he was greeted by his boss.

"Any vegetation out there?" the general asked.

"Nothing," answered Glau, slowly removing the layers of clothes. "Nothing but snow, as far as the eye can see. Assuming, of course, the eye can see at all." Glau took off his goggles.

"It's just like the dinosaurs," he mumbled.

"Hmm?" asked the general.

"Well, you know how the dinosaurs went extinct, don't you?"

"Course. Meteor killed them all."

"Well, not directly, sir. It seems likely that when the meteor hit, it spread dust all over the Earth, resulting in global cooling. Almost all plant life died. The herbivores gradually went out. The carnivores feasted on the remains, but even then they had just postponed the inevitable."

"Spare me the science lecture, Glau," scolded the general, reaching for a bottle of whiskey. "The dinosaurs couldn't grow plants indoors."

"Yes, sir, but..."

"Well?"

"We can grow a lot of plants in this complex, yes. But it's barely enough for this complex. Definitely not enough for the world. I've managed to save a small supply of cows. I suggest we devote most of the plants to feeding them. We can get beef and milk out of the cows. They're something of a priority."

"Ain't eating all beef bad for your health?"

"Yes, sir. But starvation is worse. Where's my wife?"

"Room 273."

Glau walked into Room 273. The door was the same type of steel that adorned all the doors in the complex, leading one to assume it was a typical military area. Inside, however, it had something of a quaint touch, appearing to be a normal house. Glau's wife Melanie sat on the bed.

"Hi, honey," Glau greeted her.

"Oh, hello," she said apathetically. "Are...are we going to..."

"I've worked things out. Don't worry. All we should do is wait for when this ends."

"If it ends," Glau corrected himself in his head. He dare not say it to Melanie, of course. This was stressful enough as it is.

"You know," Melanie began to smile. "There is...one way we could keep warm."

"No." Glau answered firmly. "We can't compromise our food supply with another person."

"Come on," she pleaded in an almost melodic tone. "I've got it under control."

Glau sighed. "All right."

Two months had passed. The general demanded to see Glau.

"You wanted me, sir?"

"They left," said the general grimly.

"Who left, sir?"

"The people operating the power plants. The roads were just barely accessible through all the snow. They decided they'd rather die with their families than die at work."

"Oh," replied Glau, unsure of what to say.

"Glau, those power plants were powering the heating and watering system keeping our plants alive."

“Don’t we have an emergency power system?”

“The emergency power system is called the emergency power system because it is meant to be used in the event of an emergency, and to cease being used once the emergency has ended. It was designed under the assumption that all emergencies would end. Any idea when it’ll get warm again?”

“No idea, sir. For all we know, we could be in another Ice Age.”

“Dammit. Any advice?”

“Keep the plants alive for as long as you can. When the power goes out...” Glau swallowed his saliva momentarily. “Slaughter the cows.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“The cows are doomed the second the plants die. You may as well not waste any time drawing it out. It’ll only make things hurt more. We’ve got a lot of cows. They’ll last us a while. And we can easily keep them refrigerated.”

Glau smiled. The general didn’t.

“Do we have any other problems I should know about?”

“Well, actually, I suppose, sir.” Glau answered.

“What?”

Glau twiddled his thumbs for a second before responding.

“Did you know the birth control pills at this complex are very unreliable?”

Twelve months since Glau first settled into the complex. Their baby son was three months old already.

“What should we name him?” Melanie asked on that fateful day.

“How about Ymir?”

“Ymir?”

“Yes. He was...um, a frost giant in Norse mythology. He was born from the cold, just like this guy is.”

“We can’t call him Ymir. The other kids will make fun of him.”

“What other kids?”

Melanie felt slightly sick when Glau responded with that. “Ymir it is,” she sadly obliged.

Glau and Melanie sat down eating their meat (it was softened up for Ymir). Glau reached for his cup. After the cows died, they obviously ceased to provide milk. Glau felt rather uneasy drinking his own wife’s breastmilk at a meal, but it was necessary.

“The steak tastes odd today.” Melanie complained.

“Oh, really? That’s odd.” Glau replied unconvincingly.

“Honey? Are...are you hiding something?”

“What? No.”

Melanie stared at Glau, one eyebrow raised.

“Fine. We ran out of cows. They’ve all been eaten.”

“Then what is this?” asked Melanie crossly.

Glau straightened his shirt. He wasn’t sure how to continue.

“This...this cold...it has a bad effect on people. Some of the staff didn’t like it.”

“And?”

“Well, even though modern warfare doesn’t use them much anymore, there are still a lot of guns lying around the complex. Some employees...well...”

“Are you telling me we’re eating people?” she shrieked.

“They committed suicide. It’s not like I had killed them.”

“That doesn’t change that we’re eating people! I...I can’t live like this!”

“Fine, Melanie, fine. Then don’t. There’s no more food. It was eat them or die. Go on then.”

Five days since Melanie made her vow. She felt weak. She finally aquiesced.

“I...I give up,” she panted. “Get me some food.”

“The few staff members left are committed to living, dear. I finished off the general yesterday.”

“Then kill someone! I’m hungry!”

Glau stared at his wife.

“Melanie, please. While I am well aware of the barbarism I’ve been committing, I must attempt to maintain some form of order. I will not murder.”

“Fine. Then I will. Where’s everyone else?”

“I don’t know. Probably hiding from each other.”

“Uhh...I have to eat. I have to eat now.”

Melanie caught sight of Ymir in his crib.

“Melanie? Melanie...don’t...”

Melanie grabbed a knife from the kitchen.

“Melanie...please...”

Glau’s words were useless. As Melanie gorged herself, she suddenly realized the gravity of her actions.

“W...w...what have I done?” she sobbed.

Melanie picked up the knife once more.

“No! Don’t...”

Glau’s pleas were worthless once more. His once beautiful spouse lay on the ground lifelessly, blood caked over her dress.

One week since Melanie died. Glau had just finished eating her. It pained him to do it, but he had to survive. He wandered through the base. No one left. Not even corpses. It seemed the last man in the base had chosen to die out in the cold, as if to refrain from giving anyone the satisfaction of eating him. Glau suddenly began to wonder if there was anyone at all outside, in the world. He could take a plane. He could find someone out there. He could...

Glau slapped himself. The fact that he would consider such an idea was proof of what he had become since then. He thought about everything that had happened in this relatively short time span. Nothing remained. There were no plants, no cows, no people, including his own family. Even Glau himself was gone in a way. Once the star scientist behind the military’s greatest weapons project, he was now a partially insane cannibal. He was going to starve. He may as well not waste any time drawing it out. It’ll only make things hurt more. He wandered into the munitions room.

A few seconds before the trigger was pulled, Glau whispered humanity’s last words.

“I hate this. I hate the long winter. I wish we had never created it.”