Frostbitten: The Complete Series

by Bera, Ilia

  Brittany’s heart dropped into her stomach as all of her hopeless job dissipated from her body.

  “H—Hanna’s phone number?” she asked.

  “Yeah—I kind of need to talk to her tonight. It’s important.”

  “It is?” Brittany asked. At this point, she’d zoned out of the conversation. In her head, the phrase, “You’re such an idiot,” repeated over and over again. Her heart was becoming worn out from being tugged, pulled and dropped repeatedly.

  “Well—do you have it?” Connor asked.

  “H—Have what?”

  “The number. Hanna’s phone number.”

  “Oh—I—um—no, I don’t think so,” Brittany said.

  “Are you sure? You don’t have it in an old school directory or something?”

  “Uh—No. My family never keeps any of that stuff,” Brittany said.

  “Do you know where she lives?”

  As a matter of fact, Brittany did know where Hanna lived. Most of the people of Snowbrooke knew where her house was, as it became somewhat of a landmark after the apparent homicide of Hanna’s father.

  It wasn’t long after the story hit the news, and Hanna was sent off to a foster home, that kids started to make up legends about the house—calling it haunted and possessed.

  It quickly became a weekend tradition—Kids would dare one another to go into the house. The goal was to make it up to the attic, where the spirit of Hanna’s father supposedly resided. No one ever made it past the bedroom, where police found the body of one man, and the blood of two others—Hanna’s father included. Most of the kids couldn’t make it through the front door, never mind up the stairs, and down the hall. No one ever made it up to the attic.

  Supposedly, if you went in unwelcome, strange voices would start to speak to you. Some children ran out, claiming the feeling of cold hands aggressively grabbing their body. Others said that The Executioner sat there waiting, humming a haunting tune over the sound of electrical buzzing—the buzzing of The Chair.

  The stories were the epitome of childhood fantasies.

  When Hanna turned eighteen, she moved out from her foster home, and back into the house. The house had been in the family for years, and the mortgage was long paid off. Most kids stopped sneaking into the house, but they would still stare up at the attic window in wonder—strangely fascinated by the biggest mystery the town of Snowbrooke had ever seen.

  “Brittany?” Connor prodded.

  “Huh?” Brittany said.

  “Do you know where Hanna lives?”

  Brittany wrapped her arm around her chest, covering her cleavage as a sense of insecurity washed over her. She looked down at her feet.

  “Well...” she thought.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  THERE IS NO PERFECT WORLD

  For once in Hanna’s life, she felt comfortable. For once in Hanna’s life, she was happy.

  As the hand of Connor gently caressed the back of her head, she softly sighed and melted backwards, into his body.

  With Connor, Hanna was safe—a feeling that had become so foreign to her

  Behind her, Connor sat against the wall, on her mattress. As her body relaxed and softened into him, she could feel his hard muscles against her soft skin. Every time Connor pulled his hand back to stroke Hanna’s soft hair again, she could feel his ripped arm flex against her neck. She was in a momentary state of heaven—an isolated realm of pure bliss.

  As her body softened, she began to give up control of herself to some other ethereal entity—lust. With her eyes closed, her head slowly fell back and her neck turned. She could feel Connor’s fingertips brush across her forehead, pushing away a fallen strand of hair.

  “You’re so beautiful,” his deep voice said softly into her ear. She could feel the tip of his nose glide along the edge of her earlobe.

  As Hanna’s eyes slowly opened, Connor moved in for the kiss. His light stubble tickled her chin. Their lips pressed together firmly, with a sudden eruption of warm passion. Hanna couldn’t resist the urge to nibble on Connor’s bottom lip, ever so slightly. Her sudden bout of playful energy elicited laughter from the two lovers as they fell comfortably backwards onto the soft mattress.

  A seemingly impossibly breeze of warm, almost tropic air flowed through the house. The house was alive that night—breathing, singing, and swaying as if to the most beautiful music. That night, the house did not seem cold; the house did not seem empty, or lonely.

  Connor wrapped one of his strong thick arms around his petite lover and he pulled her in close. Against her skin she could feel every single hard ripple and divot of Connor’s perfected body. She could feel every muscle flex and contract as he stroked her back up and down. The two continued to kiss passionately.

  The strong, insatiable lust jolted Hanna yet again, taking control of her body. With her hand, she reached down and gently slipped her fingers under the loosely fitted shirt on Connor’s body. She reached up, along his rippling abs, towards his solid, toned chest. She grasped firmly against his hard muscle as she let out a soft whimper of pleasure.

  For that perfect moment, that chest was hers…

  The stroking hand of Connor began to travel south, down Hanna’s back. Carefully, she slipped underneath the waistband of Hanna’s pants and grasped firmly onto her tight butt. He squeezed as a warm energy vibrated down his spine.

  Hanna moaned sharply, digging her nails gently into Connor’s chest. The mild pain only intensified the insatiable lust between the two lovers. Connor held the girl tighter, and Hanna snuggled her body in as close as she possibly could.

  Her heart was beating faster and faster. Her breathing was becoming deeper and warmer; passionate energy was lifting her up, making her lighter and lighter. Nothing could tear them apart.

  Hanna’s eyes closed as she could feel her pants slip down her legs, along with her panties. She took another long, elated, and warm breath of air, deep into her lungs.

  “Are you ready?” Connor asked gently into her ear.

  Hanna simply smiled and nodded, too lost in her spiralling lust to form a sentence.

  Then, as Connor pushed in, Hanna’s fangs pushed out. Her eyes became a dark red colour and the world around her began to glow. She could see the thick veins pumping blood through Connor’s body. She could smell his beautifully sweet blood wafting through her nostrils. She wanted it badly. She wanted it so badly.

  She moaned sharply as Connor pushed in hard—her fingers gripping tightly into his thick arms.

  All of Connor’s muscles became tense as he pushed forward with all of his unbridled intensity. Every swift thrust sent Hanna deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole of elation. Every swift thrust made her uncontrollably thirstier.

  Connor’s pace picked up. Hanna was swirling around in an elated haze. Her sensibilities were quickly fleeing her mind.

  Da-Dum! Da-Dum! Da-Dum!

  The artery on Connor’s throat was begging to be drained. His sweet, athletic blood would taste so perfect—so irresistible. Hanna placed her hands onto Connor’s sides and began to pull him down towards her. His neck slowly became closer and closer.

  Just one little taste…

  Da-Dum! Da-Dum! Da-Dum!

  Hanna ran the tip of her tongue along the skin on Connor’s neck. She couldn’t resist any longer.

  Creak!

  The entry door downstairs opened, pulling Hanna back to reality—out of her dream. She sat up swiftly in her bed, fangs still out and eyes still red from her passionate sex-dream.

  A cold breeze swept through the cold house, sending a shiver down Hanna’s spine. Another long, deep groan was audible as someone stepped into Hanna’s house.

  She could see the intruder—She could see Kane, through the walls as his blood pumped through his veins. In his hands was a crossbow, loaded with a set of sharpened wooden stakes.

  Hanna had to think fast. There was no back door to the house. Besides the front door, there was only one other opening to the outside—the attic wind
ow.

  If Kane saw her in her current state—in her thirsty state—he would kill her without question. She had to act fast—very fast.

  Without another moment of hesitation, Hanna quickly made her way out of her bedroom, and towards the attic.

  She had to get away from Kane.

  She had to feed.

  “Night’s candles are burnt out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. I must be gone and live, or stay and die.”

  —WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, ROMEO & JULIET, ACT III

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  IN WANDERLUST, HE ROAMS

  Andrew, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, walked slowly down the cold road through the centre of the small town. The strong winds and thick snow made it difficult to see more than twenty feet ahead of him.

  He could barely even see the colourful glow of the newly strung Christmas lights that spiralled up each light post along the town’s main drag.

  He turned into the local movie house and reached for the door. He pulled on the handle, but it was locked. He tried the other door, but it was also locked. Then, he noticed the sign—

  “Closed due to power outages.”

  “Shit,” Andrew muttered.

  Standing still, he was starting to freeze. He looked around for something else to occupy his time.

  Since returning from his fast-paced life of travel, Andrew had become an insomniac. He had grown too used to the excitement and bustle of the different cultures. The deafening Snowbrooke silence made it difficult for him to sleep—he didn’t like being able to hear his own thoughts.

  A black car pulled up on the road next to Andrew. Andrew shielded his face with his hand so he could see the vehicle through the sharp frigid snow. It was a police cruiser.

  The cruiser’s window rolled down and a young-looking police officer leaned out..

  “You shouldn’t be out here right now!” the cop yelled over the whistle of the cold wind. “You’ll freeze to death!”

  “I didn’t know the theatre was closed!” Andrew called back.

  “Hop in. I can give you a ride home!”

  “I’ll be okay—Thank you, officer.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Just be careful, okay? I’m sure you’ve heard all about the recent crime in the area. I really don’t mind giving you a ride.”

  “I know, officer. I’ll be okay. Thank you.”

  “Okay—suit yourself!” the officer said, rolling his window back up as he pulled away.

  Andrew continued his aimless journey. He trudged his way through the deep snow towards the university campus. As he walked, the streetlights flickered and buzzed. The town’s power was ready to go out at any moment.

  The tips of Andrew’s buried fingers were completely numb, along with his feet, his ears and his nose.

  Freezing cold, Andrew found himself at the door to the Winter’s Den. He reached for the handle and pulled—but it too was locked. Inside, all of the lights were off, and the chairs were stacked on the tables. The bar was closed.

  Far from home, Andrew found himself in a tricky bind. It was too cold to make the long journey home, but there were no open businesses for him to seek shelter.

  There was one place nearby that Andrew could think of—Eric lived close by, and if Eric wasn’t at work—chances were probable that he was at home. Andrew slogged his way through the deepening snow towards his former brother-in-law’s nearby home.

  His trembling arms and legs were quickly going numb from the cold and he was chatter his teeth uncontrollably. His movements were slowing down as his joints were falling victim to the sharp cold.

  He slowly made his way up Eric’s steps, and he knocked on the door. He stood; shivering—feeling increasingly faint as he waited for an answer.

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  He knocked again with an impatient force.

  The icy breeze whistled loudly as it picked the fallen snow off of the ground and threw it at the frozen Andrew. The breeze stung the exposed skin on Andrew’s face that hadn’t already gone totally numb.

  Impatient, bored and freezing to death, Andrew reached for the cold metal doorknob. As he turned the knob, he could hear the handle’s mechanism cracking as the frozen moisture broke apart. Miraculously, the house was unlocked. Andrew let himself in, closing the door behind him.

  The warmth from the house immediately began to sooth his painfully cold skin. He could feel his frozen joints thaw, as he stood motionless in the front entryway of the little house. His vision slowly unblurred as the thick frost melted off of his eyelashes, and his hearing slowly returned to him as the moisture released from his ears.

  Andrew took a long breath of warm air into his cold shallow lungs.

  “Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!” a young female voice yelled from within the other room.

  Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

  Eric was in his bedroom with a girl he’d picked up before closing the bar.

  Andrew considered sneaking back out of the house and going back home—to avoid an inevitably awkward moment.

  But instead, he stayed. He removed his cold clothes and made his way to Eric’s laundry room. He stuffed all of his clothes into Eric’s dryer.

  There was a stack of clean laundry in the room. Andrew looked through it and picked out a warm pair of sweatpants and a shirt. Eric had always been comfortable sharing, so Andrew didn’t feel the need to ask. It may be hard to believe, but this wasn’t the first time that Andrew had found himself at Eric’s house, waiting for Eric to finish up with a lady-friend.

  He walked into the living room.

  Thump! Thump! Thump!

  “Oh yeah! Just like that! Right there! Right there!” Eric’s fling yelled out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  BORED & ALONE

  Andrew sat down on the couch and waited. He flipped through the channels of Eric’s television, but there was nothing besides late-night infomercials on. He looked around the room, bored.

  He decided to take a shower while he waited for Eric to finish up. The warm water from the shower slowly thawed out his rigid joints and muscles.

  After his shower, he found himself back on the living room couch, waiting for his surprisingly energetic friend.

  “Oh God! Oh God! Harder! Harder! Harder!” the girl yelled.

  Suddenly, there was silence and one final loud thud. Andrew continued to watch the television as he waited, with the volume turned down low.

  “Do you hear something?” the girl asked from within the bedroom.

  “No,” Eric replied.

  “It sounds like talking. You don’t hear that?”

  There was a silence. “I don’t know—I don’t hear anything. To be honest, my hears are ringing from all the yelling.”

  Moments later, a pretty young naked woman emerged from Eric’s bedroom. Her hair was a big mess from all the activity she’d just endured, and her make up was smeared in every direction on her face.

  She was looking back into the bedroom, smiling. “I’ll just tidy up, and then we’ll go for another round?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Andrew heard Eric reply from the bedroom.

  The naked woman turned around and instantly noticed Andrew on the couch. She immediately covered her crotch and her breasts with her hands and let out a loud scream.

  “What is it?” Eric said, frantically springing to his feet and running out into the living room, totally naked.

  “Sorry!” Andrew said, shielding his vision from the naked couple.

  Andrew covered his crotch with a couch pillow.

  “Who is that?” the naked woman asked, retreating back into the bedroom.

  “Andrew? What are you doing here?”

  “I got stuck outside and I almost froze to death—and your house was open.”

  “Why didn’t you knock? You need to know, Andrew.”

  “I did. You didn’t hear me. I was out there forever knocking.”

 
Eric sighed as he stared at Andrew, who was showered and dressed in Eric’s clothes.

  “What?” Andrew said.

  Eric laughed. “You need to get this boredom thing under control, buddy,” he said as he walked back into the bedroom to put on a pair of sweatpants.

  “No—it’s not that. I was just cold. I walked to the bar, but it was closed. I didn’t think I could make it home.”

  “Why are you going out to the bar on a Wednesday past midnight, Andrew?” Eric asked as he walked back out into the living room.

  The young woman walked back out, dressed in nothing but a long t-shirt from Eric’s dresser.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you—I’m sorry,” Andrew said.

  “It’s okay—I just wasn’t expecting someone to be here,” the woman replied.

  “This is Andrew, my brother-in-law. Andrew, this is Lucy.”

  “Nice to meet you Lucy,” Andrew said.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “You want to crash on the couch tonight?” Eric asked.

  “Well—I don’t want to get in your guys’ way or anything. Once the weather dies down a bit I’ll probably just take off.”

  “I can give you a ride in the truck if you want.”

  “That’s okay—I don’t want to be a bother,” Andrew insisted.

  “It’s not bother. It would take me five minutes and I’d be back here. Then you don’t have to walk twenty minutes in the freezing cold.”

  “Um,” Andrew thought. “I would just feel bad to make you get all bundled up… And with the price of gas these days...”

  Eric looked down at the ground and laughed. “Man, you know that I love you, right?”

  “Yeah—of course. We’re brothers for life.”

  “And that makes me very happy—but you’ve got to get this figured out, man.”

  “What do you mean?” Andrew asked.

  “This is the third time this week that you’ve just shown up. And when you’re not here, you’re at The Den.”

  “It’s just convenient—close to where I’m taking my class, and stuff.”

  “That’s the thing—there is no stuff. You’re bored, Andrew. You need to get a hobby or a job or something—anything to occupy your time.”