Full Body Chills - On Thin Ice

Episode Date: December 19, 2023

A story that should serve as a reminder to watch where you step.Written by David Flowers. You can read the original story and view the episode art at fullbodychillspodcast.com.Looking for more chills? Follow Full Body Chills on Instagram @fullbodychillspod.  Full Body Chills is an audiochuck production. Instagram: @audiochuckTwitter: @audiochuckFacebook: /audiochuckllcTikTok: @audiochuck

This episode was produced with audio effects in full surround sound. For the best experience, we kindly recommend you listen with headphones. Ho ho ho! Welcome back! And here I thought I scared you off. Did that last story chill you to your bones? No? Then I guess you've got a lot of spine. I'm practicing a few Halloween jokes. You know, skeletons, zombies, monster puns. It really gets me in the holiday spirit. I'm still working on it. Stand-up's not as easy as delivering presents

for billions of children. And you know what else isn't easy? Parking. No, this isn't a joke. It's the reason I land on your roof. Despite what you might have been told, I don't dream of being a chimney sweep. But try parallel parking with nine reindeer. One year, I landed in what I thought was a snowy parking lot. Turns out it was a frozen pond. Unfortunately, my insurance does not cover sunken sleighs. But speaking of ice, this next story is particularly chilling. I've already set it aside as I have a sinking suspicion that you might like it. Frozen by fear but in the heat of love, a young lad treads on unsteady ground. Will his daydreams come true? Or will his nightmares turn real?

There's only one way to know. So gather round and listen close. I told her it was a bad idea. Like drugs and alcohol, acrophobia and thalassophobia do not go together. Two negatives make a positive, she said. Yeah, right. This wasn't eighth grade math, okay? This was real life, and in real life, two negatives make a bigger negative. But I didn't say that. I couldn't. I was too afraid.

It took me six months just to ask her out. Six months of awkward waves building up to awkward haze. Passing in the hallway, I turned beet red, shining so bright I'd put Rudolph out of business. And you want to know the funny thing? I never actually asked her out. Nope, I was too afraid. Add that to my list of phobias. It's just that Kelly was a 10 out of 10. And I know when you're that pretty, you probably get guys all the time, right? I mean, that's what I thought anyway. So the last thing she probably wanted was to be hit on by another dude. Much less me. But life's got a funny way of throwing you curveballs.

Sometimes you strike, but sometimes you hit. Kelly asked me out. We were leaving school one day, when in in the parking lot we bumped into each other. Hey, I said. Luckily it was cold so the tremors in my voice could have been mistaken for hypothermia. I didn't know you drive to school. Oh man, on the list of stupid things to say. This was up there. But Kelly laughed, nodded, and somehow, miraculously, turned my chit-chat non-starter into a real conversation. Two minutes later, and she asked me out. Uh, not like a date or anything. She said she and her friends were going to hang out this weekend and that I should come along. Of course, I said yes, only afterwards asking what they had planned. And luckily, it was cold, because what Kelly said next made my face go white as snow.

They were going ice skating. Everyone's got their thing, all right? That one thing that they just can't stand. Bugs, clowns, eyes. I don't know, maybe it's ice. Not like ice cubes or ice sculptures, but a frozen lake. Like stomping on frozen quicksand. I don't know how anyone can stand that. Can literally stand on that. And skating? Chipping and scratching at the thin layer that keeps you breathing? Who on earth thought that this was a fun idea?

Probably the same person who thought of skydiving or crocodile wrestling or... It freaks me out, okay? It freaks me out so bad, I almost cancelled. Seriously. I almost bailed on a date with the girl I had been trying to get with for half a year. But technically, it wasn't a date. It was a hangout with her friends. So it would be fine, I thought. I'll just say I'm sick. We traded numbers after we met, and I wrote and rewrote and re-rewrote the message I would send. Hey Kelly, I really want to hang out, but I think I'm picking up pneumonia, so I'm going to have to rain check.

Thanks though. Was pneumonia too serious of a fake out? I wasn't sure, but it felt less serious than tangoing with my worst fear. I almost hit send, then she texted me. Hey, so my friends can't actually make it this weekend, but I still want to go ice skating. You down? She had the ice skates and two eyes emoji attached to the end.

It was too late. I already made up my mind. I sent my reply. Of course. So it was a date, and carefully planned. Damn it, now I really was in trouble. Just breathe, I told myself. Think, you're going on a date with Kelly Davenport. Right now, you are the luckiest guy on earth. Yeah, I thought back, and I feel like I'm going to puke. At first, I was afraid of telling the truth. I was afraid Kelly and her friends would think I was weird. But now, if I came out, it would sound like an excuse. Worse than pneumonia, or cancer, or my grandma died.

It sounded like a rejection. Oh, sorry, Kelly. I can't go out with you because I'm afraid of ice. Yeah, that'll go over smooth. Come on, it's just for a few hours. A few hours. Plural. Now that thought got me shaking. Okay, redo.

It's just for a single hour. After that, we can find something else to do. It was hardly reassuring, but it was all I had to go on. People often say that trauma sticks. More than the day-to-day worries and stress, my trauma comes up whenever I'm feeling especially anxious. You could check the boxes on that. A date with Kelly plus ice skating?

Double check. And so it's no surprise that that night, I would have the dream. It was the same dream I've had since I was six. But it wasn't just a dream. It was a memory. The memory of when I'd almost died. It was late, just before sundown, and it was snowing. Back then, we lived in Minnesota,

but in my dream, it could have been the North Pole. The snow was heavy, and the weather was cold, but I knew, in a less lucid sense, that it wasn't always like that. For a few weeks, it was off and on. Warm and then cold and then warm and then cold. Nothing stayed frozen for long. Not even the nearby lake. The ice was buried under a field of snow. You couldn't see it, but my mom could see me, standing in the center of what would be the lake. She ran out screaming so loud that my dad came around. I was stranded. In my dream, I was stranded upon miles and miles of endless white. In truth, it was more like 200 feet. 200 chances to die.

I wouldn't come back. I couldn't without putting myself at further risk. In an attempt to save me, my dad got some rope from the garage, gave one into my mom, and crawled on the lake towards me. But the rope was too short. He hardly got halfway before he reached the end. He couldn't let go of the rope. He couldn't get any closer. He was over four times my weight, and the ice around him was starting to crack. He spoke to me, calmly, yet I could hear real

fear in his voice, a sort of radiating terror that melted the ice and made me freeze. From far away, my mom was shouting, begging me to come back. But I had brushed away I was staring through the ice, staring at nothing but a black hole that only went down I knew how to swim, but I also knew that if I fell in there, I would keep falling I wasn't just stuck on icy water. I was hanging over death, over a space of darkness that stretched infinitely further and which was impossibly black. It was a pit so deep and dark that it might as well have been outer space. Slowly, one creaking, cracking step at a time, I pulled myself across the ice. In my dream, and in reality, it felt like I was in one of those skyscrapers with a glass floor, except the glass was shattered and getting weaker with every step. Worse, it felt like I was jumping on it, that I had heavy lead boots stitched to my feet. The whole time, I tried

only looking at my dad. Yet, the whole time, I could only look down. Down at the spreading net of ice, ready to snap. Down below the ice, where it was so black, I thought I saw stars. Eventually, maybe hours or years later, I had gotten far enough for my dad to reel us in. Once we got to shore, my mom cried. Dad prayed. We all hugged. That's how I survived. But in my dream, that's not the case. In my dream, I don't get out. The lake stretches on and on like it never ends. I keep my head down, counting 200, 300, 400 feet. But when I look up, the shore is miles away. In my dream, the cracks grow wider.

So wide that there are more fissures than ice. At times, it feels like I'm standing on air, just waiting for gravity to suck me down. And sometimes, in my dream, I hear the voice. It's deep, and it's huge. Too massive to even be real. And it's calling to me, commanding me from below the ice, from down there. It tells me to drown. I try to ignore the voice, but that night I heard it again, and this time, when it spoke, the distant stars began to rise. They rose like one galaxy-woven hand, stretching out of that impossible pit and reaching up to grab me. They rose faster and higher, bigger and brighter, and just before they could come crashing through the ice, I saw, for the first time, a face frozen beneath the ice and under my reflection. That's when I woke up. I've had that dream more times than I can count, but never has it felt so

real. Maybe it was the added image of the human face trapped underwater, or maybe it was the dizzying spell cast on by those swirling comets. More likely the extra layer of sweat I wore in bed was due to my overloaded first date nerves. God, how did I ever think I would go on this date? I can't even do roller coasters or water parks. I for sure can't do ice skating. A fear of heights and a fear of deep water? There's no sneaking around those two giants.

But that was the past, I told myself. My hype man was really working overtime. If you want a future with Kelly Davenport, you're gonna have to grow up. But that's not what I heard. My anxiety made the translation. If you want a future with Kelly Davenport, you're gonna have to drown. We met up outside of Hawkins Park. The nearby mall was closed.

Had been for as long as I could remember. But the outdoor park was still popular. At least, during the day. Post-11pm, all the silly ghost stories surrounding the place took on a little more weight. I half expected one of the shadows to be a real human. Maybe a night guard or serial killer. But as far as I could tell, we were alone. Even the ice rink was empty. I had asked Kelly if it was okay. I mean, the ice rink closed at 10 and it was 1130.

Wasn't this trespassing? But she said it was fine. She and her friends would sneak into this place every year. No one's keeping watch. Yeah, I thought. That's keeping watch. Yeah, I thought. That's the problem. The only other construction around the pop-up rink was a small ticket booth. The door was locked, but it was a pretty lazy attempt meant only to deter lazy thieves.

The ticket window was wide open. With more confidence than I could ever muster, Kelly climbed over the counter. Inside was a digital register, so the only thing worth stealing were ratty old ice skates. Kelly asked for my size. I stood there, mute, eyes stuck on the skates and feeling like, suddenly, everything was becoming way too real. I was going from Looney Tunes to live action or Barbie to Oppenheimer in a single second. Come on. I promise I won't judge. She smiled. And I think if it weren't for that smile, I would have ran from that park and never looked back.

Uh... ten and a half? She tossed me a pair and found her own. Mine were a faded neon purple, hers a slightly less faded, but just as vaporwave, neon pink. I had never worn ice skates before, and it was obvious. Using the chain-link fence as my crutch, I pulled myself up. I got about halfway, half standing and half clinging for dear life, when I froze. I was looking through the fence, at the icy Coliseum, feeling as I'm sure

how the gladiators felt in the face of a lion. Kelly must have seen me pause because that's when she asked. Is this your first time? I nodded, hard enough for my head to fall off. But stealing the momentum, I swung one clumsy leg over the edge and into the rink. As soon as I was in, my foot found and lost the ice. Pedaling the ground like some cartoon villain, I clung to the fence, steadying myself both body and nerves. Are you okay?

I could only spare Kelly a glance. I was hyper-focused on my two-inch stilts and on the icy scars I left below. Yeah, just finding my balance. Kelly knew I was lying. It was obvious. But she mistook my very real fear for being nervous. She slid up to me and stole one of my hands. It's okay. I'll help you. Kelly meant to guide me, but I wouldn't budge.

Actually, I have this minor case of acrophobia and thalassophobia, and I don't think I really should. The end of my sentence blurred into gibberish. Kelly blinked once, then twice. I tried again. It's just, when I was a kid, I had this problem with oceans and stuff. Like I was afraid I might fall in. I laughed, pretending like it was no big deal. Her expression became a tilted smile. You know there's no water under here, right? The ice is solid. Besides, I think that's bathophobia.

Bath-a-what? I mouthed a new clinical diagnosis like I was trying it on. While I was distracted, Kelly grabbed my other hand. Suddenly, we were drifting. Don't worry. It's like they say. Two negatives make a positive. Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I couldn't go on the ice.

I was going to get stuck. I was going to fall. I was... I was... doing okay. I mean, I wasn't okay. My heart was thumping louder than I could hear. But I was still standing. I was moving.

Towing me along, Kelly laughed. I laughed too, but it was more out of relief. I found nothing funny about this situation. The whole time, I tried only looking at Kelly. Yet the whole time, I could only look down. Down at my feet, at the razor-thin streaks cutting into the floor. I studied the ice for any cracks. I tried looking through it at what was below.

But Kelly was right. The ice was solid. There's no water under there, I realized. And this time, I believed it. The weight of my mind was sliding off. With another kick, Kelly cut the turn and built up speed. My left arm was surfing for balance like a broken antenna. My legs buckled once and then twice, but held in line. In a weird way, my right side felt steadier than my left. I looked down at my unshaking hand and found that it still held with Kelly's. Whoa, I thought, we're holding hands. A little late, I know.

But at the time, I was so paranoid over the ice that I'd forgotten everything else. I laughed. A real laugh this time. And took in the moment for what it was. A date. No, not a death sentence. This was a date. The only thing I had to fear was whether this girl liked me.

The only thing I had to worry about was what I'd say next. And somehow, none of that scared me. I was enjoying this. I was enjoying this night. The cool air, the darkness and street lamps and stars up above. And reflected on the ice was that very same moment. The two of us, skating side by side. And stars?

The world went uneven. Kelly let go. You've got this! Woo! No! She was drifting away, cheering from behind as I stumbled and wavered and felt overwhelmingly like I was gonna... Fall! The sky was falling! I had no idea what I was looking at, and so I can only describe what I saw in the fury of a moment. Reflecting off the ice, glowing orbs spun around the ground like a meteor storm. Illusion or not, the light was literally crushing, pulling me down, and straining the ice with a

groaning, growing, cracking. It was the sound of a skyscraper before it falls. I swung on a tightrope, losing balance. More and more shimmers of light spun underneath the ice, almost like they were rising. And at the same time, the surface of the ice was beginning to change, spreading from cracks and turning a shade of night, transforming the rink into a giant sinkhole. Like a funnel, a whirlpool, the world was slipping. Gravity and darkness were pulling me back. The fence, the edge of this crater, and freedom was sliding higher and higher. Yet I was getting closer and closer, but slower and slower,

slowing to the point where soon my momentum would fail and I would fall back and... The air caught up my throat. I was breathing so fast and it was so cold that for a moment it felt like I'd swallowed freezing cold water. I was still shaking. My hands clung to the fence and at, the rattling was all I could hear. In fact, it was all I could hear. The breaking and snapping, the grinding, melting voice in my head was gone. The stars were gone. The black, endless void was gone. I laughed, a manic laugh this time, and spun around free from my fear and hallucination, only to see that Kelly was gone. I looked

around. Sure, she must have gone outside. Ran to get help? Maybe I was out of it. I was sure I was screaming, but it was all in my head, right? Then I looked down. The ice was frozen solid, and so was the terror on her face. Urgh! What a frightful way to go! Well, I guess I should take it as a sign. This evening, I think I'll just hang up my fishing boots and hang by the fire instead. But to anyone else braving the frozen waters in hopes of their

monster catch, I wish you the best of Loch Ness. No? Oh, all right then. Until next time. Full Body Chills is an Audiochuck production. This episode was written by David Flowers and read by Philip Lamont. This story was modified slightly for audio retelling, but you can find the original in full on our website. So, what do you think, Chuck? Do you approve?