Frozen Tendrils
A/N Hello, this is my first piece of work ever, and man I'm excited! This idea kept me up for nights and wouldn't let me rest easy until I finally wrote it down. Post-apocalyptic settings fascinate me. And creating the destruction is all the more better! I'm definitely not going to go easy that's for sure. Elsa and Anna will not be sisters in this one. Not sure if this is necessary but I do not own Disney *sigh* and with that let us begin this dark story!
Ch. 1: Stolen
There was blood. Blood and charred flesh. It was everywhere. It was splashed, smeared, and crusted onto the barren metal shelves, the chipped linoleum floor, and the low over hanging fluorescent lights. No actual body in sight. The air reeked of iron and burnt fat. The remains scraped off onto her scuffed and broken hiking boots, making a soft crunching noise. Had the owner of the boots had anything in her stomach and had not been exposed to such sights before, she would have vomited. But she had not eaten in the past two days and had seen much more grotesque scenes than the one displayed before her.
Strained, teal eyes roamed the dim store once more before they slid shut with defeat. Anna sighed through the light green cotton scarf wrapped around her nose and mouth. She shook her head, ran thin shaky fingers through her strawberry-blond bangs and dropped her shoulders in disappointment. She had been hoping to restock her provisions and looking forward to finding a can of something, anything, to eat in this rundown mini market. She should have known better. Stocked stores that once teemed with canned goods and medical supplies were getting harder and harder to find these days.
Her stomach clenched with yearning and whimpered weakly. Anna laughed wearily, feeling silly when she replied to the moaning organ, "Yeah, I know. I'm looking…"
She turned and headed towards the entrance, eyes flicking between the rows of shelves on either side of her. She took a quick right and stalked through the aisle with the stealth of a robber. She was just passing the make-up department when she stopped, a flash of movement suddenly catching her eye. She immediately tensed, eyes scanning for the quickest escape route, when she realized what had halted her.
A ghost stood before her. A ghost of innocence and fear, replaced quickly with the sharp features of an animal. Primal instincts and harsh reality etched into the beast. The animal glared back and blinked when Anna did. And she jumped with a start when she saw that the beast was her. She barely recognized herself as she pulled down her scarf and peered into the cracked mirror at her disgusting reflection. When was the last time Anna looked at herself? Three years ago? Five?
What she saw made her cringe. Greasy bangs clumped together on her forehead. Twin braids hung limp like snake skins at her shoulders. Grime and scratches streaked Anna's face, covering up the splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Dark bags and worry lines framed her teal eyes. Her frown deepened, chapped lips nearly cracking. Where had all her baby fat gone? Clavicles jutted out like craggy mountains, shoulders nearly ripping through her brown, weather worn bomber jacket.
Anna moved trembling fingers to the hem of her dark green V-neck and pulled upwards, slowly. She snapped her eyes shut before she could look at the skeletal body, head shaking side to side violently in freight. Letting go of the fabric she adjusted her black leather belt. She would need to drill in an extra notch. She was down to her last. She let loose a shallow breath and covered the mirror with her hand, squeezing her eyes tighter. She couldn't take anymore. Opening her eyes carefully, averting her gaze from the image, she patted down her filthy black jeans. Tightening the straps of her tan backpack (more like a potato sack from the looks of it) she turned sharply. Anna stumbled back, pushed forward, and brushed away a tear she hadn't realized was trailing down her face.
This certainly wasn't Anna's first pilferage, and it most certainly wouldn't be her last. The first thing Anna stole had much more value; the first thing she stole was a life. But that was only because the long ago life she had, a life of content happiness, was robbed from her. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, right?
Anna clenched her fists, the nightmare coming back and taking the form of a memory. It was nearly ten years ago. How could she still remember? Why now? Bile built at the back of her throat, recalling every detail of that day. Every sight, every smell, every feeling.
Deathly cold hands gripped her scorching throat. Frosty breath glided over the scrunched up face.
It was the damn plague's fault for stripping her of her once perfect life. No, those damn doctors, Anna thought ruefully. Those fools were trying too hard to cure something already under control. Didn't they know when to stop?
"Mama? S-stop, you're hurting me…" A terrified squeak.
"S-s-sooo warm-m-mm…" A leering smile.
Most everyone was already immune to scarlet fever in that day and age. A small epidemic just happened to break out around the world. But it was most definitely curable and could be halted from further contagion. Yet some doctor had had enough and wanted to be the miracle worker. They wanted to eradicate the rash like an unwanted tendril wrapped around a sculpted sphere.
The girl was frozen, wrapped in fear of what she had just witnessed, and was even further paralyzed by the vice grip the woman had on her neck.
"Mama!" tiny, delicate hands wrenched at the solid ones, then flailed pitifully around her head.
Fingers trailed up the child's throat, traveling towards her screwed up mouth.
It was a simple antibiotic. The serum was said to lower the body temperature rather than raise it. Usually antibiotics were meant to raise body heat to fight and kill off the bacteria. But in this case, why fight fire with fire? You only get a bigger fire.
The child's hands continued to flap until one sizzled, brushing up against the stove's active burner.
A hiss of pain, terror momentarily distracted. But it was enough. It was enough to break the woman's current actions, loosen her grip a fraction, and flick her pale, unseeing eyes to the stove.
Anna thought of the doctor's strategy and snorted with contempt, eyes rolling. You got fire, thought Anna with immense irony. The 'magic serum' worked on the ill test subject. Rumor has it that it cured them completely. The antibiotic fought the bacteria. But then, unexpectedly, overtook it, and mutated with it. The mutation leading to a deadly pathogen released into the air to attack those around it. Lowered temperatures came to the newly infected only after their body heat spiked faster than a speeding bullet and nearly torched them to death. The intense temperatures increased sweating, fried the body's proteins, made muscles cramps and convulse. Then the brain short circuited and nearly melted from lack of blood to the head and in no time the body collapsed.
The girl's hand moved before her brain could process what was happening. A swift push with unknown strength, and the woman was kissing fire.
And oh, the wailing! It was agony, it was bliss. How both mixed was beyond the child. The acrid smell of fatty tissues cooking made the girl want to vomit. But no. It was the sight.
You watched the torching first. Then the serum's main objective kicked in; the lowering of body heat. So rapid was the cooling that most times the victim emanated steam. The chilled temperature damaging the body further, yet keeping it preserved enough for the victim to survive. The surviving victim no longer being attacked, but instantly becoming the attacker and morphing into a beast.
The damage was beastly. Fire wrapped around the face, spreading, eating, warping, destroying what was once a beautiful woman. Skin peeled, blistered, burst. Meat melted and plopped. The once pristine white floors becoming stained with red and black, mixing together for imminent death.
All the while the child simply watched, transfixed in a sickening kind of way.
And then the screeching stopped, as if suddenly shut off with a switch. And the once gorgeous woman, Anna's mother, toppled unceremoniously to the floor in a whirl of blood and char, and all life ceased to exist in the being. All life stolen by the hands of Anna and her once angelic morals, severed and destroyed by the shards of instinct to live.
The beast that remained lived for warmth and warmth alone. Whether it the last remaining sun rays or the body heat of a human. They stopped at nothing to warm their heat deprived bodies. All conscience and rationality gone. They attacked ruthlessly at any live heat source, hardly aware of surroundings or of the shards of small icicles forming around their bodies. Thus the beast's name: Shards. The tendril the doctor had tried so hard to eradicate only mutated. It grew and twisted itself tightly around the sphere, the world. It had become a frozen tendril of unstoppable destruction.
Anna sighed at the vivid memory and shook her head at the thought of what came next after the scorching of her mother.
She had holed herself up in her room, her nine year old mind coming back, forming her into a mess of tears and anguish and fear. No father would show up for comfort because he was long gone, details of him a complete mystery. It was days before a scouting group had found her and taken her to their safe haven. The new home was short lived though, hardly a year of living there, before the plague overtook it. From there, Anna was forced to rely on herself, and only herself (she was surprised she made it this far, following her rule). She traveled constantly in hopes of finding a shelter she deemed safe and trustworthy (quite laughable at this point).
And here she was now. Survival skills honed and tailored to suit her person. Years of solitude and severe reality checks sculpting her being. So many things stolen: a promised life, her innocence, and her morals. So many things taken from her that she was unprepared for the next robbery of what made her. Surprised that she even had anything else worth taking and that someone would want what it was: her heart.