Hey guys Pheonixxninja here with another new story man im really gonna end up stressin myself out but when CREATIVITY calls i answer so i hope all you crime lovers enjoy this fanfic so without further ado ONWARD to the story

i claim no ownership over TAWOG

I sat in my class of twenty-four, scribbling down notes the professor had written on the large chalkboard, I brushed my hair from my left eye annoyed as my bangs swung back into place, covering my left eye. I sighed continuing to scribble down the notes.

Why is this so hard! I thought frustrated, college was such a pain. I sighed in relief as the class was dismissed.

"Mrs Krueger," my professor called. I stopped in my tracks, turning to face my teacher.

Third Person POV

"Yes sir?' Carrie answered. The professor, a blue humanoid figure, his light brown hair was puffy like a small Afro. He stared into her dark eyes and smiled.

"I just wanted to ask if you've had any plans for this weekend," he explained. Carrie mentally groaned in annoyance Prof. Adams has been doing this for about a week hadn't he realized already that she wasn't interested.

"I'm actually heading to a friends for the weekend," she lied. Prof. Adams' smile vanished and he gave her a nod.

She turned leaving the classroom glad she could get away from the thirty-one year old man. Although for thirty-one he didn't look a day over twenty.

"Hey Carrie!" A feminine voice called. Carrie turned to face the figure before her.

"Hey Sarah," Carrie greeted the ice cream girl. Sarah hadn't changed much since junior high, her body still consisted of just a brown ice cream cone. She had applied for this college to become a plastic surgeon and was taking her studies very seriously.

"Where are you heading?" asked Sarah.

"I'm just heading to Ocho's Café," Carrie replied. Ochoa had become the owner of a very famous café, he was very successful but no only was he the owner of a great café, he was a great psychiatrist probably the best in Elmore.

Carrie walked to Ocho's Café, ordering a cup of cocoa.

? POV

I walked the streets of Elmore my hoodie over my head, I sighed, my eyes caught her in her usual place. Ocho's Café I had gone there for lunch a couple of times on different occasions. Ocho was quite the cook and I heard he was the best psychiatrist in Elmore, I laughed to myself.

I sat at a table on the opposite side of her. I didn't bother to lower the hood of my hoodie.

As if feeling my gaze her eyes met mine, she politely waved and I waved back, smiling under my hood. A waiter came with my order, I thanked him and began to eat taking careful sips of my coffee.

The waiter reappeared from the kitchen placing a cup of cocoa in front of her.

"Not a fan of coffee?" I said, she turned to face me of course she was confused we had never spoken. Ever and I guess it was kind of odd, it was definitely an odd way to start a conversation.

"I don't drink it often that's all," she replied. I nodded in understanding, she fiddled her thumbs and odd habit I presumed. "I haven't exactly introduced myself yet. I'm Carrie," she offered a handshake that I took.

"Flame," I replied, we shook hands and began talking, she was quite the interesting person. Her long hair flowed to her waist and her eyes as dark as the night sky stared into mine. She looked to be around twenty-one, she had a nice figure, her ghostly tail didn't show to much of her curves and her jacket was a bit baggy but it was winter and very cold so it would be smart to wear something like that. I never lowered my hoodie, not wanting to risk being seen by them.

My watch beeped I pulled back my sleeve. 1:42, it's time I thought and rose from my seat.

"It was a pleasure meeting you Carrie," I shook her hand once more.

"Likewise Flame," she smiled warmly, and with that we parted ways.

I pulled out my cellphone hitting speed dial, I put the phone to my ears and after two rings it answered.

"You ready?"

"Yea,"

"Alright I'll meet you there,"

Third Person POV

Carrie left the Café, smiling the stranger known as Flame had definitely lightened her mood a little.

She approached the bank fixing her black jacket. She entered the bank greeting the security guard.

Carrie stood in line waiting patiently, the bank was relatively quiet as usual and frankly the wait was boring.

"GET DOWN!" The security guard yelled as a bullet ricocheted off the vault. Everyone began to panic falling to the floor. Figures dressed in black turtle neck sweaters, wearing ski mask burst through the doors pointing their guns at the security guard and the accountants.

"Back off from the alarms," The first figure barked. The accountants obeyed backing away from the desk. "Now get down on the floor." The accountants obeyed without hesitation.

"Get the money," the second figure whispered to the third.

The figure nodded and headed for the vault, their eyes briefly meeting Carrie's. The figure pulled up an accountant the elderly man shook in his grasp, his eyes filled with fear.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, just open the vault," the figure reassured the accountant. He nodded walking to the vault. He punched in the code and entered the vault with the third figure.

The other two watched the hostages making sure no one made any stupid moves. The third figure left the vault with a backpack filled with cash.

"Now anyone who calls the police is coming with us," the first figure warned. The three robbers headed for the dark their guns aimed at anyone who tried to trip the alarm. Unaware that someone else was behind the desk. The alarm screamed, blaring loudly. The figures cursed under their breath. The third grabbed Carrie aiming a gun at her head.

"No funny moves," The figure warned as they left the bank. The other two headed for the car, the third threw them the bag filled with cash. "I'll meet up with you later," he reassured them they nodded driving off.

The sirens began closing in, the figure grabbed Carrie's arm pulling her with him. Bullets ricocheted off the wall as they ran, a bullet grazed the robbers shoulder he growled in pain as blood trickled down his shirt.

"Shit!" He cursed.

"ELMORE POLICE!" The cheif screamed aiming his 9 millimeter beretta at the figure.

The figures eyes burned crimson as green fire danced in the air, he closed his fist, fire soared at the police. Bullets ricocheting off the walls as Carrie ducked to avoid being shot. She struggled against, her captors' hold.

"Let's go," the figure commanded grabbing her white t-shirt. He flipped her over his shoulder hoisting her up as her ran. Running as fast as he could fleeing the scene.

"We have a runner!" A police officer yelled into the radio. Sirens blaring in the background the figure ran carrying a certain ghost with him.