Blizzard

Chapter 12

"So what are you?"

Elsa shifted visibly, uncomfortably so. "I'm sorry," Anna quickly piped up, "I didn't mean it that way. I mean, I was just curious—I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Elsa replied, "I may as well tell you. We've got to wait here anyways." They were standing next to a small warehouse on the edge of the city, alongside the small, lonely road moving towards the hydroelectric dam up upon the hills. "Truth be told, it's kind of a long story."

"Why are we waiting here?" Elsa pulled up the shutters on the warehouse and motioned Anna to move inside. She complied.

"There appear to be some kind of patrols there."

"Patrols? What, the gunmen?"

"Yeah."

"How do you know?"

As if on cue the shutters opened voluntarily, and a figure stepped through.

Elsa winced as she heard Anna's scream of fear as the ice man approached them. "Elsa, WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?" Her roommate backed away in pure shock, drawing out the escrima sticks attached to her suit. "Wha – what in the name of—?"

"Calm down," Elsa said, nodding towards the ice man, where upon which it opened the shutters and disappeared again. "I made them."

"You made more of them?"

"I do need more than two people sometimes."

"You. Of all people. Needing help?"

Is she scorning my insecurity or admiring my independence? "Yes. I do need help." Elsa sat upon the cold hard floor of the warehouse, spacious and empty for some reason. The lights weren't working, so they were fumbling in total darkness, until Elsa conjured up a swirl of ice in her palm to bring some light into the room. "You were asking me something?"

"Well… yeah… about what you're doing right now…"

I could scare her off. That might be a good thing you bloody selfish bastard. But I can't live without her. It's not your choice to make, but it's her life you need to take care of—

"Are you sure you want to hear this?"

Silence. "Is there… something you're not comfortable with me hearing?"

"I just… don't want to destroy the relationship between us." Oh god, did that come out wrong?

"It won't." Through the dim light of the swirl of magic above her palm Elsa could make out the faint but somehow bright smile upon Anna's face.

And that was all she needed to hear.


She overheard someone yelling about how cold it was.

Cold?

What's that?

She watched as hordes of people fled the streets as the snow blew in, the winds picking up. Her skin, her bare skin was exposed to the harsh conditions outside, her meagre clothing providing little protection against the elements. She heard people yelling "Goddammit, it's freezing out here!" as they rushed towards shelter.

But she made no such move.

She sat upon the corner of the street.

Cold?

How… strange…

She placed her hands back down on the pavement, already starting to be covered in snow. Funny, she thought, I wonder how it would look like covered with a sheet of ice. Her hands gripped the edge of the pavement as she played with the thought in her mind.

Then a "shing!" and the sound of a sharp splintering crack. Alarmed, Elsa looked down—

and found the pavement covered with a clear, gleaming sheet of ice. She jumped, involuntarily, almost startled.

"Hey!" someone yelled menacingly from beyond the whiteness of the snowstorm. Elsa's head snapped upwards, her eyes narrowing with fear and trepidation. Her lips betrayed her fierce outward look as they began to tremble.

And she never felt cold.

Another gang. This one was new; she'd never seen those ones before. But they were armed with baseball bats, and one of them was carrying a switchblade. The fear started out small, but began to take root as it crept up her heart, forcing her to take one tentative step backwards as the full gang materialized from the winds.

"What do you want?"

"Whatever you've still got on you."

"I don't got nothing."

"You lie."

One of them raised the bat. Elsa was ready for it; she'd spent years fighting, getting beaten up, thinking up new tactics as she either nibbled on whatever she had managed to acquire or starved through the night. She raised her hand to deflect the blow to the side.

But the blow never came. From her open palm emerged a potent bolt of icy power that lashed out towards the boy, catching him in the collarbone and sending him flying. "HOLY SHIT!" she heard someone yell, and she heard them moving towards her in an attempt to subdue her. "Stay away!" she yelled desperately, waving her hands in front of her as if to ward them off.

Instead her hands gleamed, then glowed with such intensity that they had to cover their eyes before a blast of ice knocked them all off their feet.

The hell—?

"Run!" one of them yelled as they all scrambled to their feet and got the hell outta there, leaving Elsa standing alone, all alone, in the midst of the snowstorm that wouldn't relent. Terrified, she looked down upon her hands, wondering to high heaven what the hell she had just done.

And what she had just become.


The ice man perched upon the rooftop shattered into fragments the moment the bullet hit. "He's down. Find the others."

Petersburg had made the good sense to report the strange incident to his boss. More gunmen were rostered down to the area, so now they were practically doing cleanup duty on those fools. The ice men didn't have anything on them.

Through the scope of the rifle Petersburg sighted his next target, and decided he would give a rough estimation as to the wind speed, shifting his rifle towards the left and pulling the trigger. A small crack appeared upon its shoulder as the impact knocked it sideways. Its head darted around, scanning the area before it leapt to the ground from the rooftop, planting both feet upon the ground to absorb the impact, lunging into the cover of the blizzard.

He sighed as he got up from his position on the roof. The height of the building he was standing on only made the cold worse as the wind blew unobstructed. Him and a few other gunman sat upon the roof, scanning the area for more ice men.

"What the hell do you think those things are?" his crewman asked him.

"No bloody idea. Though I'd hate to think those things are sentient."

"I hear ya. If those things could actually think for themselves, then that'd be pretty damn scary. Let's hope they're not."

"Boss." Another crewman came running up to Petersburg. "The big guy just asked us to get back up to the dam."

Crap. Petersburg rubbed his leg. He hadn't fully recovered, and was most certainly not looking forward to a climb back up the hills. "When?"

"He told me right now."

"Goddammit. Alright boys, let's get moving." Petersburg slung the rifle back over his shoulder, as he entered the roof access stairwell.

This plan was pretty darn screwed up. Knocking out the whole city just for a huge-ass manhunt for a girl they couldn't even touch. Not only was it extreme, it also showed how desperate they were getting. He hated to admit it, but the bitch was good. Real good. His mind flashbacked to the assault on the university, and he shuddered.

Oh, he would get his revenge, alright.

The moment he got his hands on Blizzard he was going to make her suffer for what she had done. To his body. To his mind. To his ego. He reached the bottom of the building and opened the door, feeling the chilly snap hit his face again.

But until then, he would have to give her credit for being bloody fantastic at what she did. Their entire criminal organization had its effort focused mainly on her nowadays, but she was still not only untraceable, but also untouchable. Hell, they had fired machine guns at her, put barrels to her heads and wasted precious shotgun shells on her. And two months after they decided she had become a tangible and serious threat to their operations, they hadn't made ANY progress at getting her.

Even the big one was having some trouble.

She can't be that good, can she?

"Hey boss, looks like we've got a ride." Petersburg looked up to see a red pickup truck come to a halt with a small skid in front of them, the driver poking his head out. "Hey boys, I'm s'posed to get you guys back to the dam."

We'll get her, eventually. She ain't no god. We'll get her alright. The thought comforted Petersburg as he hefted himself onto the back of the pickup truck, and held on as it jerked while the truck slowly cruised towards the road that would bring them up the dam.

Ω

"Pickup truck."

"What?"

Her mind's eye, ironically partially frosted over, watched as a somewhat blurry but still recognizable red pickup truck began to drive up the road. The ice man backed away into the bushes, and Elsa released her concentration, finding herself not needing anymore particular information that the iceman could provide. "My 'assistants', if you will, saw a pickup truck driving up the road outside."

"And that means?"

"We're waiting here a while longer." Still half-dazed from telling Anna how she discovered her frosty "gift", she leaned her head against the wall of the warehouse. Her hand was still outstretched, the swirl of frost emitting the eerie glow, just enough for her to see Anna's features. Somehow Elsa felt tired, very tired, more than she had ever felt, but still functional at the same time. Maybe it was because she had gotten another burden off her chest, but she couldn't be sure.

You still cursed Anna's life.

"You okay?" Anna snuggled up to her, resting her head on her shoulder. Elsa swallowed silently. What is this? Fear? Trepidation? Why am I feeling this way? Her eyes closed as her mouth tightened into a single slit. "Yeah," Elsa replied. "I'm okay."

"How do you do these things?"

You mean hurting people, and condemning your life to an absolute hell? How I have the heart to do this? "What do you mean?"

She heard Anna sigh before she went on. "I mean, how do you keep fighting for these people despite how much of dicks they've been to you?"

"Maybe I just like dicks."

They laughed, merrily, for once. Elsa hadn't heard herself laugh that happily before, or so she thought. Have I? I don't seem to remember…

"Honestly, I don't quite know," she admitted, reveling in the sensation of Anna's red hair brushing across her neck's exposed skin after taking off her mask and unsealing her suit. "Half of me thinks that I'm just doing it because I have nothing left to my life. I mean, I trained for this, and barely anything else. I don't really have a life outside of this."

"And the other halft?" Anna probed on.

"The other half… just feels that it's somewhat wrong to just stop."

She watched as Anna lifted herself off her shoulder to stare at Elsa curiously. Unsure how to deal with the wave of emotions that slammed into her like a freight train she closed her eyes and went on: "I just don't want to leave these people and let them get hurt."

Anna's face slowly broke into a smile as she looked on. Elsa averted her eyes, feeling awkward. Goddammit, Elsa, you can't even deal with this kind of shit but you think you can take on the world with all its blasphemy and machine guns.

Anna planted a soft kiss upon her cheek.

For a moment, all her worries and pain just melted away. For a moment, she was free from the curse that plagued her heart. For a moment, albeit a very short moment, she was happy. "You must be one of the most wonderful people on Earth," Anna said, smiling as her own eyes stared into Elsa's.

"I wouldn't be so optimistic."

"Why not?"

Maybe this will make her go away. I can't condemn her any longer—

"What happened, Elsa?"

She went silent again. Could she? Could she really tell her?

"Elsa?"

"I… killed someone."

She watched the shock move over her face. This is it. This is where she decides to leave. To hate me. I know this is supposed to protect her. This is for the best. There is no other way.

But why does this hurt so much?

She could almost picture her own eyes shimmering as the first few tears streamed down her cheeks. Her fists clenched as she slammed them upon the ground, raking her nails across the concrete. If there had still been the sleeping agent in the air she would have breathed in so much air from the crying she would most certainly have passed out again. "I killed someone with this… thing."

There was another silence before Anna spoke up.

"What happened?"


"Hello?"

She looked up to see another girl walk up to her, smiling as she did. Elsa's heart rate increased marginally; people walking up to her was usually a bad thing, but this girl was so nice, so happy, she couldn't possibly be a threat to her, could she?

"Hi?" she replied, tentatively. Her new friend was well-dressed; in a warm coat and thick mittens and a wool cap.

"What are you doing here?"

"I… live here."

Her companion cocked her head and looked at her, seemingly unable to comprehend what she meant. Then she shook the question off. "Do you want to build a snowman?"

A… snowman? Elsa didn't know what a snowman was, so she voiced her concern. "What's a snowman?"

Her friend laughed. "You don't know what a snowman is? Come on, I'll show you." She knelt down upon the ground and started scooping up the snow. Amidst the empty street and the frosty brick walls of the buildings beside them Elsa followed, mimicking her friend's movements as she cupped the snow into a ball. "You make one too." Elsa shaped the snow and compacted it into the ball that was required, and passed it to her friend.

"There we go." Her friend placed the ball upon the bigger one that now lay on the snowy ground, and grabbed one more ball for the head. Then she drew a carrot from her pocket, stuck it through the head as a nose, and added a few buttons that she drew from her pocket as well.

They stood back, admiring their work.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

An inexplicable joy filled Elsa at the sight of the snowman, and a smile crossed her face too. "How about a snowfight?" she suggested.

"Sounds good to me." Her new friend laughed, almost instantly grabbing a handful of snow, launching the projectile at her. Elsa ducked out of the way, laughing as she did, picking up snow in her own bare hands. Her skin felt the cold snow through her torn and tattered clothing as she tossed the snowball at her friend, their figures a juxtaposition of two separate worlds, but enjoying the same, simple happiness.

And then the next thing she knew the snowball she threw turned into a potent ice blast that struck her friend upon her forehead. With a spin she collapsed to the ground.

The only sound left was the howling wind. No laughter. No talking.

No breathing.


"I don't remember much else."

"What did you do with her?" Anna pressed on.

"I picked her up and ran to the doctor nearby. They called an ambulance, as far as I can remember?" Elsa stopped trembling after she recounted her tale.

"What they say to you?"

"I ran away immediately after I passed the girl to them."

"How'd you carry her all the way back?"

"I… don't know."

Anna watched Elsa's features cross with fear and sadness, her own heart filled with sympathy. Clearly she was distraught. Anna had done enough harm here, digging up painful portions of her past just to satisfy her curiosity. She cursed inwardly as she watched the tears fall from Elsa's face to the floor. "I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have asked."

"It's okay. You kind of deserve to know, I suppose."

"You deserve to keep your secrets."

"If you're so hell bent on helping me, then you do need to know everything."

"So you'll let me help you?" Anna entire face lit up with happiness as she scooted to Elsa's side, much to her companion's dismay.

"I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

She snuggled up to Elsa involuntarily, almost surprised that she did so, half-blushing as she realized the implications of what she had just done. Casually she decided to change the topic. "Can we go now? Still any guys looking around?"

Elsa scrunched up her face as she focused. "No. We can go."

So they got up. And as they did Anna casually felt inside her suit and caressed the streak of blonde hair, the hair that she now recognized. The same platinum blonde shade that resided upon Elsa's hair and her own small streak.

She remembered everything. The snowman. The snowball. The cold.

But somehow, she wasn't angry. Her childhood years had been spent hating on the person that had done it to her, messing up her appearance. And even when she found out the truth, she couldn't feel the rage welling up anymore.

She wasn't sure what it was. Was it just because of the fact that time really heals all wounds? That after so long she would no longer feel the old rage she had for her aggressor that had put a "curse" on her hair, her body, her life?

Or was it just because her aggressor was Elsa?


Sorry this took so long, getting stuck by writer's block again. Pushing through it though, had to go watch some vigilante movies to keep it realistic. If you're reading this, thanks for sticking by; none of my previous stories ever got past the 3rd chapter :D