It wasn't quaint. It was disgustingly real and demented, and Helen's screams couldn't muffle out the godforsaken nightmare whispering in her husband's ears, nor any whacks at the back, nor any punches, nor any kicks. It was hopeless.

"Bob! Let go! Bob!! Robert! You're going to-! Robert!"

Keeping cool wasn't an option in Super-zero times like these; it was a must. Yet, somehow - Robert Parr managed to detour from this firm law of their shared universe, or in other words: go rogue.

"Beating up kids on Halloween - that's quite the trick there you used on my daughter, bud.

...Mind if I use it on you?"

As the paling crook rose to shadow the silver shine of the moon, thoughts snuck in through the tightened barricades and bombed Helen from the inside, enveloping the crystals shimmering of miracles and forever snuffing out that pure prospect of resting in perfect peace. It was lost. He was lost. In a crushing act of chilling chivalry, everything was lost.

They were lost. They were lost in a choke-hold of wistful whimpers and apologetic agony; agony that Mr Incredible so desired from the twisted thug; agony that didn't even shave the ice as close enough. He was still aching.

Every light in each of their eyes crashed into the freezing, yet freeing depths of demented darkness, extinguishing hope for everyone.

"I've heard it again and again: cries. Those in my grasp; those begging that they'll change. But, I still see that nothing changes - because, in fact, there is nothing:

...You."

And it was quaint again.

Only a shadow was left on the concrete, and it wasn't just young Violet who could see it. The all-consuming figure of her father bent down to her, with crystal tears rolling off dull cheeks. It's hand reached out to graze her hair back behind her ear and out of her face, only to get a violent spark flicker and prompt it to jolt back. But, her defences went on for that moment only, as she accepted the cold touch, all the way down her chubby little face to her shoulder - where her pitch black hair ended.

Bob cupped her puffed, bruised cheek, "It's alright now, princess.", he soothed in a cracking voice, adjusting her hennin with his free hand.

Violet lights flickered in and out of the coldness surrounding her as she stumbled back into the damp surface of the pavement with a small thud, and scuttled back, pulling her legs in and sinking her head into bleeding knees. "I'm sorry..."

"Hey, hey, hey!", he lifted her chin, "Vi, this isn't on you - it's on him. It-it's on him!", all the coursing shivers wouldn't let up, jolting fragile bones till they were subzero. But nothing felt cold anymore, "Violet? You still with me?", crystal flakes blanketed her head as she slowly gave into faint courage to look into his eyes.

"...I'm here, D-Daddy.", she whispered, frail as the hail.

Bob let go, "Good. Just stay with me this one time, okay? Nobody can hurt you now; nobody can say you put this on yourself.", he gripped her shoulders and began to lift her onto two steady feet, "Now, let's get you up. It's cold."

Still small and shivering and shrinking,Violet stumbled into her mother's warmth, hiding from the splintering snow in a dimming afterglow. Helen squeezed Violet as hard as she could, wincing her heavy eyes shut.

The shadow remained; the light remained - as dim as it was. Helen finally broke her timeless silence through the silent storm, "Robert...?"

His name etched in dread.

"What have I...?"

The shadow that stood. His name is Dread.