Venin rested his head on a drum. Frost once again took over the drum and moved onto the floor, cooling the room. His mind went back to the kid's blue lips as they left. Every noise in the room was static, and frost climbed up the walls like vines. He was a mess, but home wasn't the optimal place to be. Venin wanted to be alone but he didn't want to be lonely. Everything he touched died, that is if it wasn't already dead. It was depressing. 
The frost began to spread faster as he thought. It was turning to ice, dropping the room's temperature to below zero.