CHAPTER TWO

Number 77

Water heaved from Elsa's lungs, splashing back in her face to try drowning her a second time. Her vision was clouded, but she could barely make out the shapes of men looming over her, staring with critical gazes.

Pressing her fingertips to her eyes, she realized that she was now outside of the cathedral, and those men were just statues; however, that realization didn't make her any more comfortable under their unmoving scrutiny.

It was a struggle picking herself up, carrying the weight of her drenched clothes. Remembering the key, she double-checked her pockets. It was still there along with the money. It wouldn't have been a surprise if it had been compensated as payment for choking on holy water. She and the priest had vastly different ideas of what entailed a proper baptism. It was a sure thing that she was going to be miserable for a good portion of the day, that is until she dried.

Elsa took a few moments to survey the city, bathing in the sun, and grabbing a bite to eat to replenish her strength. A giant sculpture of this city's "queen" stood in a noble, yet dictatorial pose, with her dress billowing outward and an outstretched arm with a flexed hand, the other curled into a fist. She certainly liked showing herself off. And everyone else seemed perfectly willing to go along with it, given the way they admired the statue.

She lost her appetite and put the remainder of her food in a wastebasket. Her stroll was cut short due to a parade going on. And she seemed to have just caught the beginning of it too. Elsa wasn't sure how much more she could take of being force-fed the sights of this town. She was normally patient, but she could tell that it was going to be one of those days that wouldn't be short on setbacks.

Finally, the parade ended, and Elsa was able to cross to the next part of town. She saw a poster, indicating that Columbia was having a Raffle and Fair that very afternoon. She hoped it'd be avoidable. With so many people there, it'd be in her favor to trek through the less-populated areas. At least if she was hoping to find Anna without any more distractions.

This is where they said I'd find her, Elsa said to herself, holding up a matching picture to the colossal angel statue. Monument Island was what it was called, strategically placed to be floating in front of the sun to give it a more ethereal air than it merited. It was here. But Elsa now needed to find the best route to it.

"Telegram, Ms. Vår!"

"Hm? Pardon, young sir?"

Interrupting her thoughts, a small blonde-haired boy with a chipped tooth smiled up at her, shoving a yellow paper in her face. "Telegram for you, ma'am!" She took the paper and turned it over, half-noticing the boy's salute to her before he scurried off.

COLUMBIA TELEGRAM CO.

Vår STOP

Do not alert the Queen to

your presence STOP

Whatever you do, do not

pick #77 STOP

Bjorgman

What on earth did they mean by that?

Pocketing the telegram, Elsa continued searching for the way to Monument Island. But everywhere she looked, the roads were blocked off. Normally she would have disregarded those gates if they weren't being guarded by policemen. That means the only possible way through would be to go through the fair. Of course.

The fair didn't seem too out of the ordinary. Outside of the announcers praising their Queen, the unnerving devil-themed games, and complex gadgets, some of which were used to somehow prolong life. The only thing that posed as vaguely familiar to Elsa were those advertisements for Vigors.

After practically getting lost in the place, there was finally another gate that could lead to where she needed to go. Fortunately, this one had no policemen guarding it. Unfortunately, it was automatically locked up by a talking ticket machine, topped off with a patriotic robot.

"Sorry, pal, the raffle is all sold out!" It said, stiffly waving Elsa away.

Now what? She looked about and saw a window with a video inside, giving instructions of some kind. Next to the video box was an adorable round-cheeked lady, her bright blonde hair pulled into a bun, and her face giving a snarky show. She was in uniform, holding a basket and giving out free samples of those Vigors Elsa saw on a sign a while back. Curiosity got the better of her and she gently picked one from the girl's batch.

The Vigor was called "Possession", and the green bottles they were being kept in were designed with a provocative woman draping herself over the top. And the lip of the bottle was cleverly placed at her left breast.

Classy, thought Elsa. She popped the heart-shaped cap and took a swig just the same, trying her best not to think of where her mouth was on the bottle, and certainly trying not to pay attention to how the female steward was ogling her as she drank. Elsa's nervousness was evident in the way she gulped.

"With just a whisper, they're all ears..." she purred, giggling after blowing Elsa a kiss. She wasn't sure if it was the kiss or the drink, but Elsa was feeling delightfully bubble-headed. She settled on it being the effects of the Vigor. It wasn't a long inebriation, but one that had her compelled just the same.

What the hell was that... Her hands… they were pulsating with a green glow.

Her attention was brought back to the video. It was instructions explaining the effects, uses, and warnings of the Vigor being given out. Probably would've been wise for her to refer to that first before drinking it.

It said that the "Possession" could be used to make robots do your bidding. That... is oddly specific, but very pragmatic. And all she'd have to do was touch it to make it work. Elsa held her hand up to the ticket box, and it suddenly "recognized" her and allowed her entrance to the other side.

The doors opened, revealing the Bjorgman twins. The brother was wearing a chalkboard with tally marks etched into one side, while his sister held a plate.

The brother spoke first, "Heads?"

"Or tails?" His sister finished.

"Please, let me through." She did not have time for this. What did it matter what she picked anyway? It wouldn't change anything. Kristoff tossed her a coin, and Elsa caught it in both hands. Again they asked their question "Heads or tails?"

Was this some kind of joke? Were they simply not going to let her pass if she chose wrong? And how could she choose wrong exactly? All of the tallies were under the "heads" side and not the "tails" side. This coin must have been one-sided. She tossed it, guessing Heads as the only answer. Of course, she "guessed" right when the coin landed heads-up on the plate.

"Told you." Kristoff said, looking at his sister who reluctantly added another mark to his side. Both immediately seemed to forget Elsa was even there at all. "I thought I'd be happier about winning that."

"Cheer up. There's always next time." Krista encouraged him with a playful slug to his chin, leading him away.

"I guess there is."

Brushing past Elsa was another young woman, taller than herself, with beautiful hazel eyes, and dark auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail by a light blue ribbon. As she took a moment to once-over her, Elsa eavesdropped a little on their conversation.

The girl seemed not to run out of breath as she ignored her mother attempting to get her attention through the crowd. "Madam Bjorgman! I have read all your books on the sciences! Mama says it's not a fit occupation for a lady... but I think she's jealous of our cleverness. Is it true that only you are allowed to visit the girl in the tower? If the princess is lonely too, I should like to meet her, as we would have much in common."

Their chat reminded Elsa why she was there, and she carried on with her quest toward the statue of Columbia. She didn't get far when there was another advertisement that caught her interest. Only this "advertisement" was a Wanted poster.

It read, "You shall know the false queen by her mark!", with the words framing a printed image of a black demonic hand with the letters "AV" on the back...

What...?

Elsa looked at the back of her own right hand. Frozen into the skin were imprints of permanent white snowflakes, shaping the same letters, "AV" - both a reminder of what she was, and what she had done. They couldn't possibly be looking for me, Elsa thought. How could they even know I'm here?

She pressed on, getting so close to the statue of Columbia, all she had to do was... go straight through the middle of the Raffle Square.

"And now! The 1912 Raffle has officially begun!"

Elsa pushed her way through the crowd that cheered for an enthusiastic young man on the stage. She'd seen him on posters before, name was Fink-something, and he definitely looked more passionate in front of others than how he was presented in his pictures. His hair was even a brighter shade of red than depicted. He wore a genuine smile with a nice set of teeth, and proudly expressed his style and fervor. She immediately disliked him.

"Miss! Miss!"

Elsa silently cursed herself for allowing herself to get distracted. Someone had noticed her. It was another young woman dressed similarly to the one handing out the Vigor samples, only she had bright red curls swept back and had a deal more makeup caked onto her face. She was still pretty to look at, even though she clearly didn't need her face painted.

"I'm sorry," she tried getting away from her, but still slow enough to not make a scene. "I don't have anything to pay with." She tried leaving again, but the woman lightly grabbed her arm.

"No, sugarcane," she laughed in her flowery Southern Belle accent, swaying coyly behind her basket of baseballs. "There's never a charge for the raffle. You been living behind closed doors?"

Elsa felt insulted by that remark. Frowning, she humored her, hesitantly taking the top baseball without giving it much thought. She saw the number.

"Seventy-seven…"

"That's a lucky number! I'll be rootin' for ya." The woman smiled and left.

"Bring me the bowl!" Yelled Fink, motioning for a black-haired woman to join him. She was dressed like the others, only her hair was far longer, even with it pulled up, and she looked just as snarky as the first girl Elsa saw, if not worse. Fink reached into the bowl, and predictably announced the winner, "...Number seventy-seven!"

They could call her number all they liked, but she wasn't going to just go up there and get caught. She would just stay with the spectators and pretend that-

"Over here! She's the winner!" shouted that red-haired woman, giving away her position. Fink looked right at Elsa, and the eye contact made her jump.

"Number Seventy-Seven, come and claim your prize: First throw!"

With a wave of his hand, the red curtains behind him pulled up, while some foolish version of the Bridal Chorus was being sung in a drunken stupor by members of the public. The curtains revealed a couple of frightened women, roped together and being exploited wearing scandalous clothes. They motioned to cover themselves, but their hands were tied behind them.

The assemblage of people howled with laughter and wolf-calls as Fink made vulgar gestures at the women, even going so far as to grope them shamelessly, ignoring their obvious discomfort. The dark-skinned woman sneered at Fink laying his hands on her smaller blonde companion, who choked out her name 'Tia' for help.

Elsa's blood boiled at this nauseating performance. She was completely stunned at this, and was getting riled from the reactions of the people along with that man's disrespectful... manhandling of those girls. She should just get on stage and-

"C'mon!" Fink goaded. "Are you gonna throw it? Or are you batting for the other team?" He threw his head back and laughed his obnoxious laugh. As much as she wanted to throw the ball at his pointed nose, Elsa stood her ground, doing her best to conceal her anger.

Conceal, she reminded herself, attempting to bury the rage. The flakes of ice she hadn't noticed creeping over the baseball receded, slowly.

Suddenly, her hand was gripped and raised up for all to see, two policemen sharing a similar style of sideburns restrained her from either side. "It's her!"

Fink kneeled on the stage, getting face to face with the now-captive Elsa. She snarled, helpless. How could she have let this happen? Why hadn't she thought to bring her gloves?

"Well now, that's a pretty brand. How'd you get it?" he asked, taking her hand and examining it. He grinned in a manner that rivaled snakes. "Don't you know that makes you the false queen? " He stood again, arms open to the public as if this was another one of his acts. "And we don't want our kingdom to be run by some false queen! Show her what we've got planned." He ordered.

The smaller of the two men lowered a Sky Hook near her face while the other watched, smug and eager for what was to come.

Panic rose within her. This could not be how it ended. They had every intention of killing her, no questions asked. How could she even hope to fight back? One man was enough to overpower her, but two?

She began to flail, squirming and making herself harder to handle. She ripped her arm from one man's hold, causing her to slip and grab him for support. For a split second, she saw him lose balance from unexpectedly catching her, his head now leaning toward the spinning hook, and instead of preventing it from happening, she pulled him down with all of her weight, causing a bloody collision of the two.

In her alarm, she couldn't even hear him scream in pain as his flesh and bone was stripped from his face, chunks of meat spraying on her face and into the now-screaming crowd. She had to act now, while everyone was frightened - herself especially. She quickly picked up the grappling hook, now her only way to protect herself. The other policeman tried grabbing her and she pushed him away with the still-rotating weapon, causing him to throw himself back in pain, grabbing his bloody, shredded chest. Bits of ribcage were visible, starkly white against the flayed muscle.

Elsa raced past him, shoving her way through the masses all screaming and trying to get away from her. She managed to lose the policemen, and thankfully everyone was running away from her, towards their idea of safety - which in turn made Elsa feel safe when she reached areas that were now entirely deserted. The stampede must have spread, even if people didn't know exactly what the panicked crowd was running from.

She found herself taking refuge in an alleyway. She may have subconsciously felt safe there, but looking down at herself, she realized what just happened. She had blood splattered all over her shirt, blood that did not belong to her. She felt light-headed, and the world spun in front of her eyes as she froze.

"What have…what have I done?"