A/N: This is my first fanfic, and no I don't expect you to be gentle. I know it's not the best, in fact I suspect it might even be terrible, but it's a learning experience. Ideas for this fic have been floating around in my head for a while now, and this is me putting them down on paper. Reviews are dearly appreciated.

This work is also available on AO3 under the username OneEightActual.

Cst. Elsa Arendelle
Age 27
Royal Police, 19 Division
Arendelle City Region

It was another cold winter night. A bone-chilling -23 degrees centigrade. But Constable Elsa Arendelle didn't mind it much. Though the bulky duty belt that she wore made her back ache, and a laptop mounted to the centre console was taking up her space, she was content. It was quiet night in a quiet part of the city. Her partner, a female officer with sapphire green eyes and golden hair tied in a neat bun and drove at a comfortable pace. There was nowhere to go, and nothing to see; no urgency to what they were doing.

Elsa watched as the reflection of the late-model patrol car passed through shop windows. As the car rounded a corner, its retroreflective livery flickered under the dim glow of sodium vapour street-lamps. She hypnotised by the periodic dazzle of yellow and blue from the oblique interlocking lines that made up much of the car's livery. A small gap devoid of this pattern bore text that simply read "Police". The design gave the vehicle a pompous sense of urgency and authority. One that contrasted with that of the figure in a dark police jacket leaning on the passenger-side window who held a distant, longing gaze. A gaze that seemed to drift off into nothingness. It signified nothing.

Elsa was suddenly self-conscious.

"You still there Elsie?" asked the driver.

"Yeah, I'm here Rapunzel." replied Elsa, removed from her trance.

"You know, the Asian lady that runs the neighbourhood business association is hosting a street festival in March."

"Ms. Fa?"

"Yeah, Mulan Fa. She's hoping she could get some paid-duty officers to watch the roads."

"That's a long time away. You planning to go?"

"Yeah, sure. It's on Midland, right? Sounds like there might be some good food there."

The police car's radio crackled with activity.

"19-02, respond to possible residential break-and-enter, 2800 Hogan Road."

Rapunzel picked up the radio.

"Copy, 19-02 responding to B&E, 10-11."

Rapunzel activated the sirens. Elsa woke the laptop up from sleep. She scrolled down to their call and began reading.

"Complainant reports a suspect in olive green jacket peering through the windows of a semi-detached house. Suspect became agitated when he could not gain entry to the premises. Went into the backyard and disappeared from complainant's view. Banging noises were heard after he was out of view. End of remarks."

When they arrived, Rapunzel parked the car directly in front of the location. She unclipped the radio from the console.

"19-02, 10-12 on scene."

"Dispatch to 19-02, received, showing you 10-12."

As soon as Elsa stepped out of the car, she was greeted with a blast of cold winter air. Looking up, she noted the murky purple colour of the sky. A few dim dots of white were sprinkled across the sea of almost-grey.

"Light pollution," she noted aloud.

"The city's awake, so we're awake." said Rapunzel. "Come on, lets go."

The two policewomen began surveying the scene. The house was a relatively small house. The mailbox had a few pieces of junk mail. Slushy grey boot-marks scuffed the front door. Elsa took a peek through the window. The house was cloaked in darkness. It was impossible to make out what was going on inside.

"Hey Elsa, come take a look."

Elsa walked through a wooden gate to the backyard. She found Rapunzel examining a screen door at the back of the house. The door lead to a family room with a couch, and a television but not much more. The mesh had been cut out and the sliding glass door behind it was lying in pieces on the carpet. Dirty footprints led from the entrance to the doorway leading to the rest of the house.

"You think this is a burglary?" Elsa asked.

"Let's find out." said Rapunzel, as she stepped through the screen door and into the house. Elsa placed a hand on her shoulder and stopped her.

"Wait. Maybe we should call for backup."

Rapunzel drew her pistol. "It's a small house, we don't need backup." She stepped back into the house.

"Goddamnit, Rapunzel." Elsa hesitated for several moments before drawing her own pistol and going in after her.

Elsa stepped into the house, marking the carpet with a third set of slushy grey footprints. She raised her gun and swept the hallway as she entered it. The hallway was empty, there was little to note, besides two sets of wet footprints leading to the foyer. She could hear some footsteps above her. 'Rapunzel,' She thought. Elsa went the other way, entering the kitchen. The kitchen was well organised. A small CRT television sat on a counter by the kitchen table. A few pots and pans hung off hooks on the wall, and a drying rack held a small amount of dishes. Gun ready, Elsa made a smooth arc around the kitchen counter. The kitchen was clear. Elsa set off to find Rapunzel.

The foyer was small and had a short staircase to the second floor facing the front door. There was a rack of shoes, a coat rack, and nothing more. Rapunzel was probably upstairs. Elsa unlocked the front door, and began ascending the stairs. Every floorboard underneath the carpet of the stairs creaked as she slowly and methodically ascended. She kept her gun raised. In her training, stairs and hallways were known as fatal funnels. Their cramped space and absence of cover made them deadly to traverse. If an attacker were to strike, she would only have fractions of a second to react.

The small display on her personal radio suddenly glowed red. An officer had activated their radio's panic button. Wheezing gasps sounded over her radio. Elsa glanced at the display.

OFCR. IN DNGR
CORONA R.
19-02

When she glanced back up, Elsa screamed.

A gunshot.

The bullet hit her like a freight train. Elsa tumbled down the stairs, banging her head on the cold tile floor below. Her gun clattered to the floor beside her. Her muscles seized and her lungs emptied of air. There was a painful crushing in her chest. Her feverish attempts at breathing were met with painful resistance. Elsa's head was pounding, and she could taste blood.

Another gunshot.

Elsa jerked as another bullet hit her. Her trousers became damp with blood. A pulsing flow of blood leached from her leg. Her attacker was advancing down the stairs. Blood flowed everywhere around her, the pool of crimson slick growing larger.

Another gunshot.

The bullet hit tile, mere inches from her head. Ceramic shrapnel left cuts across her face. Elsa curled into a ball. She would've whimpered if she could breathe.

Another gunshot.

By now she could hear the faint sirens of help less than a kilometre away, but she was certain they wouldn't make it in time. Her was leg stinging with pain. Her chest was constricted and tight. She was going to die. It was with growing apprehension that she realised she was going to die. There would be no dignity in her death. Curled in a pathetic ball, pants damp with her blood and maybe her piss. She had failed. She failed herself and her partner.

Her attacker reached the bottom of the stairs. He stopped.

He drew his foot back, and kicked. Elsa's head banged against the wall. She saw stars. Her chest burned as she tried to suck in air. He continued his assault. A furious barrage of boot met her head. Elsa was struggling to stay conscious. The attacker said something. She couldn't tell what it was. Blood began pouring from Elsa's head. Black spots appeared in her vision. Her only thought was pain. There was hot, molten pain coming from every part of her body. He was kicking her to death. Her limp body took every kick in earnest. For a moment she lost consciousness before being jarred back awake by the thrust of a foot.

She couldn't see anymore. He was torturing her to death.

As he drew his foot back to deliver another kick, he was suddenly shoved from behind by Rapunzel, clutching a cast iron skillet. A large kitchen knife stuck out of her chest. She took a swipe at the attacker's head, sending him dazed and stumbling backwards, before she collapsed atop of Elsa. Rapunzel was wheezing for air. Recovering, the attacker drew his pistol. He gave Rapunzel a swift kick to the head, before pressing the gun to her temple, and firing. He turned his gun on Elsa.

A cacophony of gunfire erupted.

The attacker fell to the floor dead. The front door burst open, rolling Rapunzel's lifeless form off of Elsa. Several figures moved through the door.

"Covering."

"Foyer clear. Trailers! 3 down."

"Trailers moving in."

"She's alive!"

"Elsa! Elsa! Can you hear me?"

The voices echoing through the house became distant and indistinct. Elsa's vision began dimming. She felt herself being lifted onto a stretcher, and soon after the stretcher began to move. An oxygen mask was placed on her face. Something tightened around her leg. Her vision blurred until objects melded into the comforting blanket of darkness.