In the Province of Dewa they say that if you encounter a woman whose skin is pale as the snow itself you must run. 

If you give into your curiosity and approach said woman you will not be suspicious of her at first. You will pity her for being lost and alone on a cold night like this. You may feel the need to offer her your coat because she wears nothing but a thin, white kimono. You may even want to talk to her because she appears so lonely.

But when you speak to her she will give you a small smile and ask if you would hold her child for a moment. She will show you said child, a small, pale-faced infant wrapped in white cloth. The baby may cry or may sleep soundly in her grasp. Either way, you will feel compelled to hold it.

Should you ignore your feelings of unease and take the child in your arms you may think that nothing will happen to you.

But you are wrong.

Once you take the child in your arms you will feel a great weight, the bundle becoming heavy like a boulder. You will feel weighed down, but are unable to let go of the bundle, for it has frozen to your hands. If you look down you will find that there was no infant in the first place; you had been given a block of ice.

When you lift your head to face the woman you will find that she is gone. She has left you with a burden far too great for you to handle. 

Before long you will be unable to move, as the ice on your hands has spread throughout your body. Your feet will be stuck to the ground, your arms frozen in place. Within moments the ice will freeze your heart, and as you breathe your last breath you will see in the distance the silhouette of the strange woman once again, holding in her arms her infant of ice and snow.