Ever since she was a little girl, Valka cherished the beautiful, intricately decorated snowglobe that her grandmother had given her right before she passed away. Valka’s grandmother was a kind, generous, and sweet old woman, and the twinkle in her eye matched the spring in her step, even in her later years.

The miniature buildings inside of the globe looked an awful lot like Valka’s hometown, but she lived in a quaint village tucked away into the mountains, so she didn’t pay it much mind; a lot of the villages in this area looked like that. She was always playing with her globe, and it was always snowing.

One day, Valka was sitting in her bedroom, bored out of her wits, and she got the idea to start tossing her globe into the air.

She made a game of it, tossing it overhand and underhand, catching it in all different positions.

Then, she tossed it up really high, spun around, and tried to catch it behind her back. It landed in her palm and bounced right out, hitting her bedroom floor, and cracking.

Suddenly, everything in her room began to shake. Toys fell off her bed, clothes jumped out of her drawers. The whole world was shuddering like it had a chill.

Startled, she ran to her window, opened it, and stuck her head outside. In the perfect blue sky, in-between puffy white clouds and drifts of snow, a great jagged black mouth had appeared, stretching for miles and miles.