Sacrifice (Halloween/Modern/Supernatural Hiccstrid AU)

Astrid picked up a small leather bound book, flipping through it expertly for the author's name.

"Do you need assistance, madam?" The old gent spoke gently. Kind smile and gentle hands, he held a stack of books reverently as he paused beside her.

Astrid smiled in return, and held the book up. "I was wondering who the author might be of this story?"

"Ah, that's by a young girl named Gil Naveen. Pretty little thing, just dropped that off today." The man sighed and grunted as he plopped the books onto a trolley. "Just fifteen years old. A might young, but her writing is stupendous."

Astrid nodded, and again read through the short scrawled summary on the back. About a dog, and, as it didn't have as interesting a plot as she craved, she set the story aside.

Just as she was about to move on, she bumped into a giant dictionary sized book teetering on the corner of the table. Nearly knocking it down she scurried to catch it, a flap of white pages catching her attention as they fluttered to the floor.

She picked up what looked to be a manuscript of some kind, no cover, no summary, just pages upon pages of typewriter front. Glancing over the first page, words caught her attention instantly.

Especially that name.

"Sir." Astrid asked quietly, looking over to the man. "Who… who wrote this?"

He frowned, and grabbed the book. With his prosthetic wooden hand he flipped through the pages carefully, till he shook his head in puzzlement. "I would have to look that one up, lass. Give me a second and I'll have an answer for you."

"That would be great."

Astrid watched him hobble off before turning back to the pages in her hand again. Beginning at the top, she read:

"House Hofferson, headed by Neil Hofferson, was a large foundation plant on the edge of a clear seaside of Gael. Fueled by sea air and the ocean tide, it was a successful business."

Astrid swallowed thickly, shaking her head in disbelief.

Gobber returned, holding a printed sheet in his hand. Adjusting his glasses, he read, "Author: Hiccup Haddock. Date: 2003. Publisher: none." He lowered his hand. "It has a puzzling history, for sure. Never was published."

"Thank you." Astrid flipped through a few more pages, gulping nervously when she saw the second part's label. "Can I get this from you?"

"Certainly, lass." Gobber motioned for her to follow as they made way to the front desk. There, Gobber scanned it and typed into the giant ancient cashier. Ripping out the receipt he slipped it into the bag beside the manuscript. "There you go, see you next week."

"Thank you, Gobber."

Exiting the building and making her way home was difficult. The chilly autumn air seemed worse than normal, given to the book in her hands.

The year it was written was 2003. Her father's death was in 2004. Yet, somehow, the writer knew about the fire. He knew it would fail. He knew her family would fall apart.

She shivered and hugged the coat about herself tighter, burrowing her nose into its collar. It was late afternoon, and the sun was just setting. All the creeps were getting to her.

"The publishing date was just wrong." Astrid mumbled in attempts to reassure herself.

Arriving at her small apartment building in her quiet neighborhood, Astrid hurried to skim up the stairs. She locked her door as soon as she entered, falling back against the door with labored breaths.

She went rigid before laughing breathily at her own silliness. "This is ridiculous." Astrid walked to her kitchen leisurely, shoving her worried aside.

After gathering the means for a small meal, Astrid jumped onto her couch with her laptop. Unfolding it she took the manuscript and typed in the number at the back, yet the results led to nothing.

"Hiccup Haddock." Astrid whispered under her breath. Typing in his name to Google, over two hundred thousand results popped up.

Scrolling through, Astrid had no idea what she was looking for. Perhaps under a book store, a Wikipedia, White Pages… something.

Finally, after nearly twenty minutes of scrolling, she came across a title that caught her eyes.

"Hiccup Haddock, son of Stoick Haddock."

Astrid blinked in disbelief. She knew that name. Stoick "the vast" Haddock… he was her father's business partner.

Until his death in 2003.

Astrid clicked it without hesitation, knowing that this Hiccup was the Hiccup she was looking for.

The picture that appeared portrayed a young man, perhaps fifteen or sixteen years old. He had a mop of disheveled hair, straight, and highlighted. His grin was lopsided which suited him as a person. He looked like he might be that nerdy highschooler who's always hiding out in the library, yet all the girls swoon over him in secret, unbeknownst to him.

Scrolling down, she found his bio. Skimming through it quickly, she gathered that he was an only child and that his mother had died when he was just a baby. He lived with his father his entire life, until Stoick's death in 03.

There were some interesting quotes, which Astrid din't bother to go through. Scrolling to the bottom, she finally found the dates.

"Birth: February 29th, 1988. Death: October 31st, 2004."

Astrid blinked against the screen and gnawed on her lip nervously. This didn't line up. How in the name of Thor did he know about the fire, about the disaster, before it even happened? Her family's plantation didn't go down in flames until December 5th of 04. Hiccup Haddock died in October. Yet somehow, someway, he'd written a manuscript about the mill's disaster.

Astrid shivered, before slamming her laptop closed and shoving it on the couch cushion beside her. Curling into her blankets, she pushed her glasses onto the top of her head and rubbed her eyes.

"This is getting weird. And strangely coincidental." With a heavy sigh she leaned back, nearly having a heart attach when she felt the warm and furry body of her cat Stormfly touch her ear.

"Oh girl, don't scare me like that…" Astrid smiled up at the purring feline. Gently plucking her off the couch and into her arms, Astrid pat her for comfort. At least she wasn't entirely alone in a big half empty apartment building. The feelings only made her feel worse.

"Hiccup Haddock, what secrets did you know…" She wondered verbally to the empty room. Stormfly meowed in puzzlement, urging Astrid to continue rubbing the cat's fluffy back.

Wishing to rid herself of the puzzling night and day, Astrid got to her feet and carried Stormfly to her small bedroom in the back. After cleaning her teeth and brushing her hair, she jumped into the bed and dove beneath the blankets, something she hadn't done since she was a small child.

But somehow, on this Halloween evening, those exhilarating "frights" of childhood memories seemed all too real.

Certain she wasn't about to get any restful sleep, Astrid tossed lazily across the mattress. Stormfly had crawled off somewhere on her nightly hunts, most likely hoping to catch some drowsy fly awoken by the vent.

Just as her eyes began to droop, of course some background noise would start up. Astrid was sure that these same scratches and creaks happened every night, ever day, yet they were so much… louder tonight than she remembered.

"Stormfly?" Astrid whispered hoarsely. Leaning over the edge of the bed she tapped the floorboards, hoping to catch the cat's attention. "Stormfly, is that you?"

She froze instantly as the bedroom door creaked. Eyes wide, pose rigid, and heart pumping at neck breaking speeds, Astrid couldn't take her gaze off the doors handle.

"Stormfly..?" She squeaked hopefully.

The cat didn't appear, yet the door continued to slowly, oh, so agonizingly slowly open. Centimeter at a time as the second ticked away in a terrifyingly dragged out manner.

"Oh, dear Lord, please let it be you, Stormy." Astrid breathed in half prayer, half plea. Tonight was not the night for the winds of the drafty apartment to be playing tricks on her.

There was a creak. Gods, a creak. Astrid moved then, flying beneath the blankets with a choked scream as she simply accepted the fact that she was going to die.

"Miss?"

THERE WAS A VOICE. A GOSH DARNED VOICE.

Astrid squealed again, pressing deeper into the mattress. She pinched herself, hoping to wake from this horrible nightmare.

Plus, this ghost was polite. What could be worse than a polite ghost that would probably, very kindly, and very slowly, kill her?

Something touched her shoulder. Shrinking away she screamed again into her pillow, muffling the sound.

"Hey, ma'am, I'm not-"

The voice was nasally- extremely nasally. Unsure of what was going on, Astrid dared to peak out. The ghost sounded young, confused, happy, yet hesitant all in one.

In the dim lighting from the outside street lamps, Astrid could see he was tall, and not at all ghostly looking. In fact, he looked quite human. He was standing politely beside the bed, hand resting feather-light on her shoulder. He had bright green eyes, similar to those in the photo she'd seen just hours before. His auburn hair was choppy and on the longer side, yet, again, it suited him. His mouth was puckered in a hesitant smile, yet by the bright glow of his eyes she could tell he was overjoyed for some particular reason.

Or perhaps that was the joy at finding a new victim.

That thought quickly had her ducking back beneath the blankets. It made no sense whatsoever, but somehow, those covers seemed to be her only protection.

That hand pressed a little harder on her shoulder, giving her a shake. She squeaked incoherently.

"I'm not going to hurt you, honest."

Ha, to think she'd trust a demon. Not anytime soon, pal.

"Listen- you… you saved me, alright? You unlocked everything, I'm not about to just- kill you in your sleep if that's what you think. I'd never injure anyone, much less you."

She still didn't believe it, but her fears were fading. Slowly. Ebbing away with each ever so human words he spoke. He sounded normal. Just… confused. And perhaps a bit frightened.

Peering back out into the dim, she glanced over his lanky shape. "H-how do I know you're not lying?"

"Uh… because… I give my word?" He flashed a grin. "I promise, swear it on a Bible, I'm not going to harm you."

Flipping her blankets off, she sat up sharply to glare at him. The "ghost" boy stumbled back in surprise, standing awkwardly a few feet away.

"Care to explain?" She demanded shortly. "Arriving in a girl's bedroom isn't exactly 'normal'- if you get what I mean."

He stammered uselessly, and even in the poor light she could tell he was blushing.

She tapped her fingers impatiently. "Start with your name. You're Hiccup, aren't you?"

"Yes." Hiccup confirmed, without stutter. "Hiccup Haddock. My Dad was Stoick Haddock."

"Yes." Astrid looked away momentarily, mind flickering. "But you died nine years ago…"

He laughed halfheartedly as he nodded, hands tapping against his jeans. "Y-yes… and no?"

Astrid sighed, before getting to her feet and tugging on a hoodie sweater. Motioning for him to follow, she led the way back into the small living area. Sitting in a chair, she motioned for him to take a seat on the couch.

"Alright, now, explain why you died, yet here you are, alive."

"It's a long story-"

Astrid jerked a thumb towards the clock, reading ten pm. "We have lots of time."

He gulped nervously, flinching in surprise when Stormfly decided to make an unexpected appearance. Jumping onto the back cushions she plopped leisurely into Hiccup's lap, purring for attention.

As he began to pet her, he began to explain, quietly. "I was fifteen when a visitor arrived at my room. Nothing but a flickering image of a deformed creature, mangled into something that she called a dragon. A queen dragon. Called the Red Death."

"She threatened to kill you and the entire plantation if I didn't do as I was told, to give myself up to the dragons as the yearly offering. She thrived on human flesh, and I was to be her next victim. There was a kick to it, however. I could return if the claimed was to ever call my name. To call my name with the story in mind. The story of the manuscript."

Astrid frowned in confusion. "I'm sorry, what? How does this make any sense. Why on earth would some Queen Dragon want me..?"

"You're a Hofferson." Hiccup stated simply. "Every sixth generation in the Hofferson 'clan' would be sacrificed to the dragons. Some ancient Viking ritual."

"So why you..?"

"The Queen wanted me. Not you." The cringe was obvious in his voice. "She favored me for my brains. Wanted me to find someway to release her and her enslaved dragons from the underworld."

Astrid fell silent, realization dawning. So, Hiccup had offered himself, to save her?

"You did that for me..?" She whispered in shock.

"Not just you. But for you father and mine as well." Hiccup whispered quietly. He pet Stormfly absently as the cat rubbed against his stomach, purring in contentment. "I still remember you being the most beautiful girl in Berk high."

Astrid smiled faintly and turned to face him. He was smirking, yet his flushed cheeks betrayed the truth behind the words, though he said them in jest.

"Oh, shut up." She laughed before tossing a pillow into his face. Stormfly yowled in disgruntlement before jumping down and strutting off.

"So, you've been in the underworld, in the control of a dragon, for nine years." Astrid clarified.

"Yep."

"Did you know what was going on here or..?"

"Partly, yeah." He scratched his head thoughtfully. "Like, I know the new technology. Cell phones and laptops, the likes. Just… familiar with them? Not so much."

Astrid rubbed her forehead thoughtfully, before letting out a heavy sigh and getting to her feet. "You can sleep here on the couch, just be certain that my door will be locked."

Hiccup's face was mirrored in surprise, mouth gaping awkwardly as his words were stolen from him.

"Here's a blanket, there's your pillow, we'll figure this out in the morning." Astrid tossed the said items to the shocked young man, before picking up her cat and pausing at the short hall way. "I'll be up early, so don't try to steal anything-"

Hiccup nodded wordlessly, but his eyes held a smile. "Thank you."

With a curt nod, Astrid disappeared behind the door.

As you can tell, this fic was rushed. I wrote it on Tuesday at 10:30 at night, and was super tired from trick-or-treating with my little siblings. But I wanted to publish this before the holiday was over, so hence… *gestures weakly to all above*

Hope it was somewhat enjoyable. Thanks again for all of 1200 followers on tumblr! :)