The frozen heart

Chapter 1- City Grind

Chapter 1: City Grind

The city was alive, a constant thrum of activity that never seemed to sleep. Anne could feel its energy, a relentless pulse that pushed and pulled at her as she moved through the crowded streets. People rushed past, their footsteps blending into the distant honks of cabs, the clattering of subway trains, and the low hum of conversation. The sun was setting, casting a soft orange glow over the skyscrapers, but Anne was too tired to notice the beauty in it.

Her day had been long, just like every other. Another endless shift at the office, drowning in paperwork and meetings that seemed to drag on for hours. She worked as a junior analyst at a financial firm—an exhausting, often thankless job. It paid the bills, kept her life stable, but it wasn't fulfilling. Every day was the same routine: she clocked in early, sat through hours of spreadsheets and reports, dodged office gossip, and then clocked out, drained and longing for an escape.

As she turned the corner onto her street, she could already feel the tension in her shoulders easing, knowing she was only minutes away from the comfort of her apartment. The city noise was still there, but in this quieter corner of the neighborhood, it felt less overwhelming, more distant. The streetlights flickered on one by one, casting long shadows across the pavement as Anne finally reached the familiar red-brick building she called home.

The building itself was nothing special—an old structure with creaky pipes and peeling paint, but Anne didn't mind. Inside, her small one-bedroom apartment was cozy, filled with soft blankets, shelves overflowing with books, and a quiet sense of peace that she craved after a long day. She jiggled the key in the lock, pushing the door open with a sigh of relief. Home at last.

Dropping her bag near the door, she kicked off her shoes, enjoying the cool feeling of the wooden floor beneath her feet. Her eyes flicked to the stack of mail on the kitchen counter, but she ignored it for now. Instead, she poured herself a glass of water, letting the silence of her apartment settle over her like a warm blanket. There was something soothing about the quiet after hours spent in the noisy, chaotic world of the city.

Her gaze drifted to the couch by the window, where a worn, dog-eared book lay waiting for her. It had become a ritual of sorts—after work, she would lose herself in a book, letting the stories sweep her away from the monotony of her everyday life. Lately, there was one story in particular that had her completely hooked.

The Frozen Heart.

It was a strange title for a story that had so much emotion beneath its surface. She had found the book by accident, tucked away in the corner of a tiny, dimly lit bookstore she had stumbled upon a few weeks ago. The shopkeeper had barely said a word as she picked it up, as if the book had been waiting for her all along. And from the moment she opened its pages, Anne had been drawn in, captivated by the dark, haunting tale it told.

The villain was unlike any she had read before. He wasn't a typical monster driven by greed or lust for power. He was quiet, almost tragic, with white hair that made him look like a ghost and eyes so cold they seemed to freeze the very air around him. His past was shrouded in mystery, his power feared by everyone, but it wasn't that which pulled Anne in. It was the pain in him—the loneliness that seemed to seep from the pages.

With a soft sigh, Anne picked up the book and settled into her usual spot by the window, tucking her legs beneath her. Outside, the city continued to move, but in here, in this moment, it was just her and the world within the book. She flipped the page, her fingers tracing the delicate lines of text, and soon she was lost again, falling deeper into the story.

In the book, the villain stood at the edge of a cliff, the wind whipping through his white hair as he stared out over the frozen landscape below. He was on the verge of something, something dark, and Anne could feel the tension in her chest building as she read. Her heart ached for him, for the way the world had rejected him, feared him. His own family had abandoned him, his mother dead and his father ashamed of the curse he bore.

Anne's fingers tightened on the book. She knew it was just a story, but she couldn't help the way she felt connected to him. He was more than just a villain. He was broken, lonely, misunderstood—and in some strange way, she felt as though she understood him.

She lost track of time as she read, the hours slipping by unnoticed. Outside, the city's lights glittered in the dark, but inside, Anne was deep within the world of The Frozen Heart. Her eyes moved quickly over the pages, absorbing every detail, every emotion. The weight of the day began to lift as she became more and more absorbed in the story. But the words were starting to blur, her vision softening as exhaustion crept in.

With a yawn, Anne stretched, feeling the pull of sleep start to take hold. She glanced at the clock—it was late, much later than she realized. But she couldn't bring herself to put the book down, not yet. She was so close to the end, and she needed to know what happened next.

But her body had other plans. Her eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment, and soon, the book slipped from her hands, landing softly on the couch beside her. Anne leaned back against the cushions.

As her breathing slowed and her body relaxed, strange images began to flicker in her mind—snow falling softly, a grand castle looming in the distance, and those piercing blue eyes staring at her through the darkness. There was a strange chill in the air, one that made her shiver even beneath the warmth of her blankets.

And in her dreams, the city faded away, replaced by a world far colder, far darker than the one she knew.