Off-White

Jamie opened fire on the snowmen, knowing that the gas shell was almost empty. It made a gurgling sound as it melted into a sickly off-white paste-like substance. He sighed and looked at Molly. She was fighting and melting another of the snowmen.
“I hate these things!” She said, melting another one.
“I agree!” Jamie shouted, looking down the street. The street that Jamie and Molly were on was a gentle curve down a hill that went on for around three city blocks. It was dark, cold and snowing heavily. Jamie strained to look down the street and saw what seemed to him to be headlights.
“I think someone's coming!” he said excitedly to Molly. She looked down the street and said, “I see it too!”
The car that pulled up next to them reminded Jamie of a hummer. He looked at the front window and saw his father, Derek, driving it. Jamie heard a clicking sound as Derek unlocked the car.
“The army is on the way! Come and get in here you two, we're getting out of here!” Derek said loudly. Jamie and Molly ran to the side of the car and opened the door, climbing into the heated environment. Jamie shivered as he put his semi-home made flame-thrower down on the floor of the car. The black leather seats seemed to sparkle from the reflected lights of the headlights bouncing off the abnormally large flakes of snow.
“Are we gonna pick mom up Dad?” Jamie asked, worry strong in his voice. Derek nodded and stepped on the gas. Molly brushed snow off her dark hair as the car rapidly accelerated towards the street that their house was on. Jamie tried to warm his hands by rubbing them together quickly, but they were just too cold.
Molly looked out the window. Houses were being overrun by snowmen that climbed through the windows and attacked people. Fire was the only defense—bullets embedded themselves into the snowman, causing no harm, or just shot right through the thick snow, flying aimlessly forward. Fire melted them.
“Why aren't they using fire, daddy?” Molly asked Derek. He shrugged and said, “They may not know that that's the only real thing that works against them, Molly.”
“Well someone should tell them!” she said. Derek nodded and said, “Someone will honey, but not right now. We've gotta get home and get Mom, and then we will be okay.”
“All right.” Molly agreed. The house that was being attacked rapidly vanished from view as the car sped up the street. Derek gently turned the corner and then drove up their driveway and put the car on Idle.
“Jamie, get Mom. Molly and I will stay here and fight off any snowmen.” Derek instructed. Jamie nodded and he climbed out the car, hurrying up the sloped driveway and rushing up the small staircase to the front door.
Oh. Right. Well, as the reader, I guess you are really confused by now. Who're these people, and why do you care what's going on?
Well I'm assuming that you care about them since you're reading this. Jamie is 10, and Molly is 9. Jamie and Molly Jackson, along with their father Derek and their mother Heidi, are currently under attack—along with the rest of their community—by snowmen. Not the ordinary kind—the ordinaries don't move, don't bleed paste and don't eat people by throwing themselves on top of them.
These ones do.
Jamie reached the front door and opened it, looking inside the house for his mother.
“Mom?” he called throughout the house. The wood floor creaked under his boots, the curtains in the family room off to his right blowing in the sudden wind from Jamie's entrance. No one answered his call. Jamie slowly walked forward, suddenly scared at the stillness of the usually busy house.
“Mom!?” he called. His voice echoed slightly because of the wooden floor. In front of him was the entrance to the kitchen.