So I was just reading other Elsanna stories and I now just discovered what the term "forkanna" means. May God have mercy on my soul...

Oh, and SHU means Solitary Housing Units. It's identical to the term solitary confinement.

So without further ado, I present:

Chapter 8: Frozen is the New Black

Charging with a little more speed, Anna let out a bellowing roar. It didn't matter if her voice was already cracking, or that it looked completely odd from a stranger's point of view. It was the roar of who she was. A roar that encapsulated all the frustration, escalation, disappointment, and redemption of a lifetime.

It was the roar of a lifetime.

It was the roar of a 24-year-old in prison.

...

"Hans, come in sweetie!"

An eight year old boy entered in the room of her mother. Surrounded by various machinery, it looked like he had stepped in a hospital room. An IV line was attached to her arm. Various sensors were hooked onto her. Bottles of medication and warm water were always within arm reach. Climbing beside her, he laid right next to her as she stroke her auburn hair.

"How did you know that it was me at the doorway?" the little boy asked curiously.

"Mother's intuition. Where are the rest of your 12 brothers?" she inquired, her eyes still closed.

"All went to sleep early. I think they got tired of being mean to me."

"Oh, that's too bad. I think I shall have a word with them." The mother looked down, her sons head buried underneath her arm. A small muffled sniffle escaped from his mouth. She paused for a second. "And your father?"

"At the office. I think he's working extra hard to start that company of his."

"I...see." The mother soon began to start coughing and wheezing. Hans quickly got off the bedside and went to retrieve a glass of warm water from the stall. Slowly pouring it into his mothers mouth, he waited until she drank it all and slowed her breathing. "Thank you, Hans." said gasped, pinching her youngest son's cheek. "Shouldn't you be in bed by now?"

"I wanted to see you so badly. Tomorrow's the big day."

"Yes, dear, but not like this." said the mother sadly, indicating the many hospital machines that she's hooked up to. "Mommy is a little bit tired. Perhaps tomorrow you can show it to me."

"Oh, O.K." Hans said with a crestfallen smile. Holding onto his present in his pocket a little tighter, he wanted to show it to Mom at the right moment.

Sensing Hans' disappointment, the mother said, "How's this: tomorrow I'll wake you up myself with a nice warm cup of hot chocolate."

"Really?" Hans eyes were as ride as saucers.

"Absolutely."

"But - in your condition, won't you - ?"

"Your mother still has some kick in her, don't worry."

"Promise?" asked Hans, extending his pinkie.

The mother looked at her youngest son, warm brown eyes towards innocent green. She wrapped her pinkie around his. "Promise." Hans practically beamed.

"I love you, Mother."

"I love you, too, my son." yawned the mother. "Now go to bed, and be kind to your father when he gets here tomorrow."

"O.K." Giving his mother one last kiss in the cheek, Hans left the room, but not before hearing his name being called one last time. Turning around, he saw his mother smiling to him, waving lazily as she...cried? He couldn't see well in the dark, as the curtains were all drawn and there was light source. Hans waved back.

Entering his room, Hans got to bed and wished his mother for a good night as he held onto his wrapped present a little tighter. Wondering what tomorrow will have in store for him, he quickly drifted to a long, slumbering sleep, hoping that the soothing voice of his mother and the smell of warm hot chocolate would greet him in the morning.

...

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEE -

Hans arm swung over the alarm clock as he switched positions in bed. Being greeted with the blare of an alarm clock with light streaming through the blinds (and subsequently hitting him in the eye) and a pounding hangover was just about one of the worst, if not the worst, way to start of your day.

The fact that you have to get up to work in a woman's prison doesn't help things much either.

Another morning, another day...

Hans lied there, green vivid eyes slowly adjusting from the excess light as he watched his fan above him spin around and around. He simply lied there, absorbing all that his 5 senses brought him: the slight itch behind his back as his tank top got ruffled from constantly turning in bed, the pigsty that was his one room tiny apartment, and loud urban honking of cars commuting to work. The one redeeming was being greeted everyday with a warm sunrise and the friendly smell of cheap coffee from a nearby bistro.

Getting up from his bed, Hans stepped in front of the mirror to examine the 25 year old standing before him. A tall, thin man stared right back at him; deep green eyes hidden underneath auburn locks. Wearing nothing but a wife beater and a pair of boxer briefs, he looked disheveled, beaten, and lacking any sense of direction.

All three of them are false. Especially the last part.

Throwing his undergarments in the hamper, Hans began to undress to take a shower. Noticing several missed calls on his phone, he pressed the play button before stepping into his hot shower.

"Hey, little bro. When are you coming home? We all missed you. The turkey was great! We all saved some for you if you're ever nearby."

A lie if I ever heard one.

"Hey, Hans! How's Arendelle? You know what - don't answer that. I really don't wanna know. I'm having a blast in Corona!"

Hope you get skin cancer from the sun, bastard.

"Hans, it's Christian. Just wanna know when you'd be meeting for the family meeting? Dad still wants your signature on a couple of things for the company."

I bet he does...

"Hey, Hans. How's working in a woman's prison? It'd say that it feel rather masculine were if not for the fact that you're a girl yourself."

I can hear you guys laughing. Bunch of assholes.

"Hans, did you remember to give your flowers to your mother?"

How could he forgot? Getting of the shower, he began usual morning procedure: showering, shaving, grooming, and finding the right appropriate clothes for work. The only thing he had to worry about that were the creases on his black slacks. Exiting his apartment, he turned on his parked car to heat up the engine. Arendelle was famous for its frigid mornings, despite the sun shining quite clearly.

Thinking to himself, how can any one forget? He could almost remember that fateful day as if it was yesterday.

...

"Oh my God, this can't be happening."

"No, no, no, NO!"

"Where the hell are they?"

The sound of muffled shouts and running feet broke Hans from his deep slumber. Rubbing his eyes, he looked at his clock: it was 10:00 A.M.

"Huh? What's going on?" He was already confused as to why they were no hot chocolate or loving mother by his bedside. Putting on his slipper, he exited his room, only to be knocked sideways from one of his brothers.

"Hey, Hans! Awake already?" he yelled behind him as he ran down the hallway.

"Make yourself useful, or get out of the way, Hans!" another one shouted down from the kitchen.

"Christian! Apologize to your youngest brother! Now!"

Turning around, Hans saw his father: tall, broad-shoulders, and the perfect spitting image of what he'll look like within the next few decades. The only difference were his piercing blue eyes that were in clear distress.

Christian poked his head out of the doorway from the kitchen. "Sorry, Hans."

"Dad, what's going on?"

Getting onto one knee, Hans' father grabbed his youngest son by the shoulders and looked him squarely in the eye.

"It's about your mother, my son. She's - " He paused for a moment, licking his lips as he swallowed. " - she's not well."

Hans seem rather bewildered by that statement. She was perfectly fine yesterday when he talked to him. "What do you - "

Then it dawned on him. The cold hard truth came crashing down, slapping the eight year old boy from his drowsy slumber and into fully awakening him. Pulling himself away from his fathers embrace, he ran across the halls until he got to the doorstep of his mother. Slowly, he turned the knob and entered the room.

His mother was just as she were last night. Laying there in peace. Medical professionals and emergency doctors have been dispatched, as evident by them measuring her pulse and checking her vitals.

"Mother?" he said, clutching at his present he planned on giving her today. Unwrapping it, he presented an exquisite necklace made up of individual snowflakes that glittered in the morning sunlight.

His mother didn't respond.

"Mom?"

Still no respond.

"Mommy!"

...

Hans jerked his head up. As evident by the somewhat legitimate honking on the back of the bus, it had just occurred to him that he has been dozing off in traffic. Grumbly acknowledging this mistake, he held up his hand as a sign of apology and made his way into the freeway, as Arendelle Penitentiary was rather far from where Hans lived.

Probably be best if I turned on the radio. Could keep me awake. Wonder what's playing at the moment.

Reaching towards the dashboard, Hans flicked on the radio switch. A friendly announcer greeted his ears.

"And now, here's the latest smash-hit single from the Idina's 2nd studio album: Let it Go."

"Urgh." Hans switched the radio dial, effectively changing the channel once more. Hans has heard that song a million times - from the coffee shop, from his supermarket, from other cars that are zooming past him. It was getting so overplayed so much that it had effectively lost all appeal it once had for Hans.

Looking at his rear mirror, he noticed how there was an accumulation of water particles clinging onto the surface. Taking this as a sign that the cold fog has evaporated, Hans rolled up the windows to take in the wind and smell of the late morning. He loved how the wind sliced through his auburn locks as the bride he was crossing offered him a nice view of the Arendelle skyline itself.

Hans loved it here. He loved Arendelle. He loved the food, culture, and new friendly people. Even the erratic weather. Because at the end of the day, nobody how badly Arendelle treated him, at least it wasn't the Southern Isle. It was a place to start fresh and new.

After his mother's sudden death, everything changed. It wasn't the fact that now only 14 of the 15 chairs in the dining hall are filled, or that his father soon buried himself with work, or that 13 young boys are now deprived of the love of their mother. It was the fact that now the entire matriarchal glue of the entire family was now permanently gone in this world.

There are no more warm hugs and kisses.

No more hot chocolate.

No more mom.

Nevertheless, his father persevered. He did everything he could to secure his children a bright and happy future. Hans suspected it was a coping mechanism that he devoted himself so fully to his work that he forget the pain of his wife's passing. This in turn led him being at the office for many late hours, constantly setting up appointments and meetings with high executives. As a result, he was quite absent from his home and family. The rare few times he truly did interact with his children, let alone Hans himself, it was more of a reprimand or a lesson in disguise.

Hans suspect that that's probably the reason why his brothers were so fucked up. With their fathers absent, they had nothing better to do than to look for any excuse to torment and bully their youngest brother. He could vividly remember every prank and insult as they were burnt quite heavily in his mind (and in some other places as well). One of the charms Arendelle possess is that none of them are here.

Still, from time to time, he did miss them occasionally. The sharp, biting degrading humor; the loud boisterous conversations that filled the hallways of Westerguard Manor; the few ever so savored seconds of family unity as they paid their respects towards their late mother. It had a nice, sentimental ring towards it that would occasionally warm Hans soul back into the past. But of course, what little kindness there was was eclipsed by the torment he had to endure from his 12 older brothers.

In retrospect, appreciated his father for making their childhood so comfortable. He worked long and hard as the sole and only breadwinner of the family for a while. As a result, the company grew into a sizable conglomerate. One of the few redeeming quality about growing up was that he usually got what he wanted. The bad part: his brothers became spoiled little shits, as nearly all of them invested it on woman, parties, and an unpromising future.

Hans chose a different route. Quickly grew into an educated and insightful person, he was exceptionally blessed with masking his true intentions as he dissected other people into manipulation. After all, one would have to conceal his emotions after all the bullying he suffered. Tormentors get a kick from any reaction they elicit from their victims. A facial tick there, a pupil dilation there. It was all there for one to observe, and to exploit if need be. Graduating at the top of his class in business administration and psychology, he sets his sights on the world.

Then everything went downhill.

Hans soon got the message that his father was ill. His company wasn't doing to well. Next thing Hans knew, a recession was in play, the company is wading in knee deep debts, making things even harder on his father and the family, and his father is actually...dying.

At the request of his father, Hans and the rest of his brothers flew back to Westerguard for one last visit. Opening the doors to his chambers, he saw his father before him: a disheveled old man with thinning, graying hair and an emaciated figure hooked up on life support.

"Ah..my sons..." he croacked as he coughed and sputtered. Hans went to his bedside to retrieve a glass of warm water. Slowly pouring it into his father's mouth, he waited until he drank it all.

"Thank you, Hans." he said.

As he watched his father lecture away on his deathbed, surrounded by his 13 sons, Hans wondered what he could be doing at that moment. He couldn't do much to save his mother as a child, and as an adult, he had every power to save his father and salvage and worthwhile relationship he had with the man before him.

But what to do?

That's when it dawned on him: how to get back at his brother and win the approval of his father.

He would have to save his father's company. The working mechanism which has provided the heard for his father and a future for his sons was at an impasse. All he needed was to jump-start it a little.

But how to do it? None of his brothers knew anything about finances and the business world. Half of them were alcoholics, the other half were...well, at this point, he stopped keeping track. In the end, only he could do it. He would need money, of course, and lots of it. But in this recession, there's very little of it.

That's when he met him.

That's when he met Scar.

...

"Well, well, well. What have we here?"

Scar was walking towards a handcuffed Hans. Beaten for 48 hours, deprived of food, water, and sunlight, Hans struggled with all his might against the chains attached to the wall, but it was of no use. How stupid of him that he stop at Kenya during his tour of the world? It never occurred to him that he'd accidentally stumble upon an international drug smuggling ring. Why, oh why, does he have to poke his nose in things that he shouldn't? His brothers always reminded him of that - sometimes verbally, many times physically.

And now, it finally bit him in the ass.

"Send my regard for your father." Scar purred, pulling up a chair so that he can talk eye to eye level with Hans.

"How did you know - "

" - that your father is on his deathbed, and he's the head of Westerguard Inc.?" answered Scar, to which Hans vigorously nodded his head. "I have eyes and ears, mate. Trust me, as a drug lord, I ought to. Hope he feels better, as well as his company."

Now Hans was truly shocked. How on earth could this man know so much details about his family? "How do you know that the company isn't doing so well?"

"I follow to stock market, my boy. And it's not uncommon for stocks and investments to drop when the founder is suddenly ill."

So that answers that. "I see." Hans licks his lips. "What are you going to do with me?"

"What would you do in my situation?" Scar shot back, arms and legs knees crossed. Hans looked at him closer: he clearly was the confident type. Likes to be in power. Possess a clear savage intelligent. He better play this cool...

"Well, let's see..." Hans scrunched his face, thinking of the most logical scenario. "...if...I were a drug lord based in Pride Rock, Kenya who caught someone snooping around my base of operation,I'd probably be suspicious if they were a part of the CIA or any governmental operatives."

"Good. Go on."

"I'd then torture him for any information, then kill him to prevent from ruining my plans." Hans smiled, chuckling slightly. "But you're not going to do that, aren't you? Otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Scar shifted his position. Withdrawing a key from his pocket, he un-cuffed Hans from the wall. "No - I have something in mind for you: a business proposition. Walk and talk with me." Getting up, Hans stretched for a minute, rubbing his sore wrists. Exiting his prison cell, he let his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness.

He was in a cave, being lit with many light fixtures attached to the rocky surfaces. Wooden carts and steel containers littered nearly every inch of the place, with camouflage tarps covering the more scrupulous places of the cave. Tables with important documents, duffle bags of money, various chemical lab equipment, and colorful substances only added to compliment the scene.

"As you know, I'm a drug dealer. I supply the world with a substance in demand. Economics, supply and demand - someone of your nature will understand." Scar turned to face him, as if wondering if he caught all he just said. Hans could only nod in his situation.

"Yeah, that's true." It was, just by that statement alone.

Scar nodded his head. "Excellent. But as of right now, I'm a little short-handed. Right now, I need somebody to deliver said substances to various locations. A drug mule, if you would. And of course, " he gestured to the duffle bags filled with cocaine and money. "you would be financially compensated for this."

Hans narrowed his eyes. "What's the catch?"

"In return, you will supply me a percentage of your stock for your company. You will do so ONLY when you have gotten it out of debt and made profit margins. I'll have an associate of mine contact you when that time comes."

"And if I don't comply?"

"I slit your throat and sell your organs on the black market." Scar stated simply.

Hans contemplated for a minute. Was he in any position to say no? Just by refusing him gurantees that he'll never see the light of day ever again. Even if he were to rat him out, by the time he's already done that, Scar would have relocated and sent mercenaries after him. On the other hand, he stands to benefit everything from this situation. He needed the money to save his company, get back at his brothers, and to impress his fathers.

"You got yourself a deal, Scar." he said confidently, extending his hand.

Scar accepted it with a strong, tan, firm shake. "Excellent."

"So, as part of your newest employee, may I ask as to where I'd be operating at?" asked Hans.

"Hm...let me take a look." Turning back, Scar walked to a table with a clipboard. "We already have several teams in Maldonia, Scotland, France, China, and Corona. Some of them are on standby, awaiting my future orders. Ah, here's where you'll be operating. You'll be replacing one of workers, as she recently caught by authorities. Take a look. I hope you like crazy weather. I hear it's often cold over there." He extended the clipboard to Hans.

On the clipboard was a map with various circles, each symbolizing a base of operation - some which Scar just named right now. A city near the northeast of America had an X on top of it. A post-it note was stuck near it. On it it said one word:

ARENDELLE.

...

So here he is: in Arendelle. His occupation in Arendelle Penitentiary provided him with numerous advantages. First, it was a stable source of income with minimal effort.

Second, it would act as a temporary storage space of drug shipment. The police would never suspect looking inside a prison for drug shipment. No, they have their eyes on local gangs and shady back alleys. If one shipment of drugs gets discovered, the prisoners would automatically be suspected and arrested. A fool proof plan at best. No one would suspect the officer.

And finally, it would provide Hans ample opportunity to tinker around with inmates. See what makes them tick or not. Find out whats the best way to get under their skin. After all, he could have a bit of fun...especially that ginger-haired girl. The one with the freckles who bumped into him yesterday.

For the time being, that's where he'll be doing. Scar would deliver drug shipments towards Arendelle. And Hans would ship them to other various contacts in the city. Until then, he can never return back to the Southern Isle.

Not until he's obtained enough funds to save the company, win back his father, and screw his older brothers in the process.

Parking his car, he entered Arendelle Penitentiary. Ursula was the first to greet him.

"Morning, boo. How was your night?" she croaked, flashing her clearly-nicotine-stained teeth. Hans shuttered to at the thought of being near those lips, let alone working with her.

"Fine. Morning, Ursula." he replied back, mustering every effort not to gag. "And yours?"

"Aaaww. Thanks for asking. My was rather vivid. I found myself racing in this long, green tunnel..." Ursula continued to ramble on as they both walked to their lockers. A separate room that houses all the officer's gear, it was essentially their break-room as well as their changing room. Hans ignored her as he attached his walkie-takie on his shoulder band and tied his officer belt, complete with a stun-gun.

Hans checked himself one last time at his reflection before turning to Ursula. "So what does our Warden have in plan for me today?" he asked., cutting Ursula from her monologue.

Ursula checked her clipboard. "Same as last yesterday: maintain peace and order, break unruly prison attitude and fights."

"Anything unique today?"

"Check up on the inmates at SHU. Make sure none of them have committed suicide."

"Great..." repeated Hans dully as he exited the lockers.

To his knowledge (and from eavesdropping on the inmates gossip), SHU was just about the last place anyone would want to be locked into. Hans couldn't blame them. Short for Solitary Housing Units, it was a design to curve unruly prison inmate by locking them up in isolated areas of the prison, denying them sunlight and human interaction. From what Hans have seen, it seem to only work temporary, as inmates would at first resume a docile demeanor upon returning back,only to have them revert to their previous personalities before they got locked up, if not more aggressive.

Located at the far western wing of Arendelle Penintentiary near the boiler rooms, Hans made his way through several corridors before turning a right to face a steel door.

Hans turned the crank and opened the door. A sharp blast of icy wind greeted his face with all the subtly of an alarm clock.

"Why is it always chilly hear in this room?" he mumbled through chattering teeth. Pulling the tassel cords on his sweater a little tighter, Hans bundled up a little warmer as he walked down the corridor.

Lets just get this over with...

Apparently the architecture was either having a bad day or deciding to pull a fast one on the prison population, because whoever designed the Solitary Confinement Units did so in the most unscrupulous way possible. The foundation was beginning to crumble, as evident by the various piles of sand, mud, and brick that have been accumulating. The light fixtures went on and off at irregular times. Cobwebs seem to only complement the cold atmosphere, as they dotted every corner and sharp turn.

Hans hated it here.

No, more like loathed to be here. Anytime he wasn't here, avoiding the dominating iron door that separated the "normal prison" from the SHU with a 12 foot radius was his main prerogative. Truth be told, he couldn't think of anyone else that wanted to be here. How can they? To be deprived from the various elements like sunlight, wind, and rain was bad enough. To be taken away from human contact...well, Hans didn't want to think about it.

Such deprivation of such a thing can drive anyone crazy. Being neglected - feeling of isolation cuts more sharper than any knife out there. Human nourishment - the feeling of being needed, wanted, desired, if only temporary, was a high that eclipse any drug out there.

Hans himself would know.

After all, he's been through it.

Which is why he hated it here.

Sooner or later, I'll just have to wait and bide my time here. The next shipment will come, I'll do my weekly deliveries, then I'll get paid. Then I can move onto bigger and better things. Just you wait, Father. I'll show you AND my entire brothers not to underestimate the runt that you've been ignoring.

He was lucky to be an officer here in Arendelle Penitentiary. He only needed to suck it up for a few more months.

Looking through each window slot of the confinement units, Hans gave each inmate a quick cursory glance at them to see if they were conscious. If not, he would simply nag at the door to wake them up. He didn't care if he was waking them up from a good dream or a deep slumber and he didn't care.

At last he came up to the last confinement cell unit. Hans peered through the window to get a better look at the last inmate he had to check up on.

She certainly was one of the most unique looking inmates he'd seen here. Her figure, a lean slender frame with alabaster skin, was offset by a sharp contrast of jet black hair that jutted from behind and covered her eyes with jagged fringes. On her neck was a tattoo of a sun with yellow and orange streaks, accentuating the contours of her neck. With her legs crossed together and her elegant, thin arms folded on her lap, one would assume that she would be meditating. Or at least, Hans thought she was, as her back was facing him, and only a sliver of her face was showing.

On the other hand, he wouldn't have cared if she'd be sleeping. He had a message to deliver to. Knocked on the 3-inch steel thick door, Hans peered through the bullet proof glass to see if she'd react to the sudden nose.

The female inmate didn't respond.

Hans knocked again with louder force and faster knocks.

The female inmate didn't respond to that as well.

"Hey, you hear me?" he yelled, his eyes never leaving the female inmate.

Silence. Hans was getting somewhat inpatient at this point. Looking around the cell, he notice a food trey before the food slot that hasn't been touched. The utensils haven't been removed from their plastic wrapping. Not even the napkins have been touched.

"Hungry much?" he said sarcastically. No response. "You know what, starve all you want. Sooner or later, you will eat. I just came here to tell you that your time here in solitary confinement has been shortened. You'll be getting out of that hole in 10 days. You know what that means, don't you?"

Still no response. Relented, but nevertheless undeterred, Hans continued.

"You'll be up and running in Valentines Day. Hope you've learned your lesson, because we can't have you engaged in another fight with another inmate. Last one you fought, she had to be sent to the hospital. She's still there, you know."

Silence. At this point, Hans was feeling like he was talking at a brick wall.

"Anyway, that's all I have to tell you." Turning around, he noticed again the same sun tattoo design that was etched on the inmates back. It had the same rosemaling design as another he saw. "Say, another inmate has a tattoo in the same place as you do, only that it's a moon. Thought you should know."

No response.

"Heh. Guess being frozen is the new black." Chuckling to himself, Hans looked at the inmate on last time before before turning around. He still had an entire day of work to do. Walking up the stair that led to the ground floors of Arendelle Penitentiary, he glanced back one last look at the Solitary Housing Units before turning the doorway.

So there you have it - the back story of Hans. Have to say that I'm somewhat impressed with that I gave him. This chapter was really hard to do. I try to make everyone sympathetic with their tragic back stories - nobody here is 100% evil.

Speaking of stories, I've been reading other Elsanna stories. Here are some I've read: Frozen Fractals, A Snowflake In Spring, Crash Into Me, Jump Into The Fog, Cold Heart Warm Soul, A One Nigh Stand, Lost & Found, Arendelle Airlines, When Winter Meets Summer, Anna Summers PA, For Her Hand, and my personal favorite, Stolen Ice.

Feel free to PM on what you've read, and why you like them.

Reviews and constructive criticisms are always encouraged and welcomed.

- V