Blizzard

Chapter 1

Nightfall.

Arendelle's cold winters were a common thing around that period of time. Heavy snowstorms, sometimes blizzards, would wreck the town with chaos as people scrambled towards their homes to seek out refuge from the screaming winds outside. All this was familiar to them; it happened every year.

And so was the danger.

In the night, if there weren't any storms, people had another reason to go home ASAP. Through the darkness, and the supposed quiet of the night, you could hear screams slicing through the fabric of peace. Screams of fear, screams of pain, screams of sheer shock. It didn't matter; all that you would be concerned about was that you weren't the one screaming. By then, few people dared to venture into the night to help; it usually meant that they would get hurt too. The streets were close to lawless; the snow was their smokescreen, and the police couldn't deal with it; their tracks were covered by fresh snow, and there were no witnesses to quesiton. So whenever people had to travel in the night, they always got jumpy. They always had the feeling that somebody was watching them. The normal people were constantly aware that gangs were around, ready to pounce from a corner and extort whatever they saw fit.

But eventually, the gangs were also getting the feeling that they were being watched.

Rumours spread like wildfire, even during the winter, to put the statement to irony. People whispered in the streets, that the screams you heard were still from shock, pain and fear, but the difference was the people who were screaming.

And it wasn't the normal people anymore.

Something had come along to their small town, someone here to fight to battles they could not win, and save them from the terrors they could not run from.


Anna's fist tightened around the knife she carried in her pocket.

She was still scared. Despite the gang having forced her to give up, something was in their eyes. A look of despair. A twitch of anxiety. Anna noticed something different. This wasn't the way gangs usually functioned: scared, paranoid people weren't the kind of people they were.

"Get moving, bitch." Someone roughly shoved her from behind. The man aimed a revolver against the back of her head as the 4-man gang forced their way through the growing storm along a deserted, and strangely long alleyway. The wind had begun to whip up, and the snow was building up. She surveyed her surroundings; her limited combat experience with a blade would have to do, so she would need to look at what her combatants had: baseball bat, revolver, unarmed and brass knuckles. Unlikely she would live through a 4 man gang fight.

"What the hell do you want with me?" Anna managed to spit out.

"Oh, you know, we just bring back whoever we want, and then we decide what to do with you." She felt the cold hard metal of the revolver barrel against the back of her head. "Keep moving. I don't want to have to blow your brains out. No point dragging a rotten corpse around." Hate cut through her heart like a razor.

A twitch of an eye.

The trembling of a hand.

Something was definitely up.

The unarmed man's phone began to ring. "Hello?"

The volume was turned up to maximum due to the severe winds, but Anna could pick out the conversation from the phone. "Where the hell are you guys?"

"Sorry boss, we've run into a nice lady over here," upon which the man turned around gave an evil smile towards her, "and we're bringing her back."

"Well, get moving, cause the forecast is picking up a storm inbound. Gonna be a big one, and I don't want you on the streets when it happens."

"You got it, boss –"

Something slammed into the side of the man's face and ricocheted off him, slamming him to the ground. He cried out in pain as he crashed to the snowy ground below. Anna's heart raced; could this be her chance to escape? What the hell was going on?

"What the hell –!" the man armed with the revolver started before a bright white figure landed heavily, slamming his face into the pavement and knocking him out. The man with the brass knuckles shoved Anna to the ground as he confronted this new adversary. Anna glanced at the new fighter; white, sleek suit, hard white mask and various attachments to the outfit, clasping a strange weapon in hand, stance ready to attack.

The remaining two men had begun to back off a little bit.

The man with the bat swung first. The white fighter – was it a woman? – countered his attack with her weapon, her large glaive-like weapon slammed into the side of the bat, disarming the man. She spun, swinging the glaive straight into the man's gut, knocking the air out of him, then jumped to slam the edge of the glaive upon his head, knocking her combatant unconscious. The brass knuckles almost connected with her face, but the fighter raised the glaive to deflect the man's swing, then slammed the whole glaive into his body, forcing him to lose his balance and fall into the brick wall behind him. One well-aimed punch and he was out cold.

Anna lay on the ground, still stunned at what had just happened.

The fighter moved towards her and extended her hand; Anna took it and pulled herself up. "Th-thanks," she managed to utter, half from shock and half from the cold. The wind was really picking up now.

"You should go," came the fighter's clear but indistinguishable voice. "This storm is going to be big."

"Wh-what about you?"

"I need to tidy these losers up."

"What for?" A part of Anna's earlier anger towards them. "These idiots don't deserve it. They deserve to freeze out here—"

"It's not the way I do things," the strange woman went on, turning around to face Anna fully. Through the eyeholes of the mask Anna could see the deep, intense blue eyes that stared from behind, warning her not to tread down the dangerous path of hate that she was taking. "And neither should you."

Anna nodded tentatively. Then she ran.

The wind howled as the fighter slid the glaive upon the strap attached to her suit, and dragged the four men into the shelter of a nearby building, threatening to blow in the seemingly fragile glass windows to ravage the unconscious violators within. She tied their bodies to the side of a pillar, then retrieved her iPhone from her pocket, and keyed in the number.

"This is the Arendelle Police Department, how can we help?"

"Left you a little present. Manufactory, Asbury Drive. Merry Christmas."

She cut off the line, her sighs' breath crystallizing as she walked away from the building and into the blizzard, vanishing into the blurry whiteness beyond.


"Dispatch, we have a call from observed individual, codename "Blizzard". Signal located at following coordinates, says we have an early Christmas present there."

"Again?" Kristoff hit the ignition on the patrol car and turned his headlights to full blast. He wasn't going to see nutshit in this storm. "This is Dispatch 2-3, requesting backup on following coordinates to secure potential dangerous targets. Heading towards the Manufactory at Asbury Drive, requesting some help if you can spare some."

"Copy that, Dispatch 2-3, rerouting nearby patrols to assist you."

The storm was too severe. Way too severe. Kristoff engaged the GPS on the patrol car and relied more on the display than the road ahead to turn onto the drive, finally reaching his destination after struggling to see through the storm.. He stopped the car and drew his pistol, zipping up his jacket as he exited his vehicle, staggering as a frosty gust clawed at his face as it blew past. Warding off the harsh winds with his sleeved arm, he raised the sidearm as he approached the building's half open shutter door. "Dispatch 2-3, backup is arriving."

"Copy that," he replied, crouching under the shutters to enter the building, the interior already partially covered with snow blown in by the gales outside.

Then he saw them. Four bodies, motionless, lying tied up to a metal column next to a few manufacturing tables. "This is Dispatch 2-3, I have four men inside the compound, ready a medical team. Looks like they're out cold." Kristoff knelt to check each of their pulses. "Yes, they are, and luckily not in any worse shape."

"Any sign of Blizzard?"

Kristoff looked around, his hand gripping a little bit tighter on his pistol. "Negative." He was genuinely a little afraid; if someone could take out four men when no one else in the town dared to take out a gang, would he even stand a chance should he become a target?

But then again, the file they had listed for Blizzard was that of "vigilante" status, and so far there were no reports of the unknown person harming innocent people, or assaulting essential service personnel. They could have had a worse person on their hands.

The doors surrounding the manufactory creaked open as more police officers streamed through the building, sidearms ready. They all gathered collectively to stare upon the spectacle before them.

Kristoff broke the silence. "Let's get them out of here before the storm gets any worse."

There was a flurry of activity as the police officers moved to restrain the prisoners before they untied the constraining, almost strangling ropes from their bodies and hefted them to their respective patrol cars, all eager to get back to the safety of their station. Engines were started, headlights were lighted, and within 15 minutes the scene was cleared.


Anna ascended the steps of her apartment in a rather hasty manner, a wave of relief washing over her as she slammed the door of her room, locking it just to be safe.

She breathed deeply. She'd been on her toes ever since she had escaped her ordeal, thanks to a mysterious stranger that had decided to intervene. Placing a hand over her forehead, she practically walked over and collapsed on her bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

Had she been a tiny bit more awake, she would have seen the white figure crouched on the rooftop opposite her window.

Elsa watched Anna, motionless upon her bed. So this is my roommate. Curious.

It was all a set-up. Everything that she had crafted: her new identity, her new personality, her new habits, all of it was a cover. Anna would play an integral part in that cover. Elsa had gone from a shy, insecure introvert to a more open, social person in a matter of days just to prepare to integrate into her cover.

She hated it. It restricted her. Binded her to constrains she never wanted. But away from the mercenaries and crooks, she could live in relative safety, but still rain hell upon those who decided they could do whatever the hell they wanted.

Her cover, her new identity, was for the best.

Because the last thing Elsa wanted was for someone to get hurt because of her.

First fic for quite a while, just got back to writing from a busy schedule. Read and review, would be much appreciated :)