A/N: Hi everyone! My name is Piper (not my real name), and although I've opened this account for quite a while, I'm still new to FFN 'cause I hardly ever visit the site. I'm a huge fan of Sherlock Holmes, both the original version and the BBC Sherlock version, Dan Brown and Lee Child. Basically, I love thrillers, detective stories and spy novels and films. Of course, I also love Disney (who doesn't?) and Dreamworks (I think most people do, too) and the ship Jelsa (um, isn't this the main reason why we're all here?).

Anyway, enough of me. Let's talk about this story. First of all, it's my very first fanfic, so take it easy on me, will ya? Be nice to the newbie. Also, I'm an Asian and know practically nothing about how things operate in America so forgive me and please point out to me if anything in the story is inaccurate. English isn't my first language, but I'm confident enough in my English skills that you will only see a couple of grammatical or spelling mistakes here and there.

Another thing is that this story will include pretty many elements inspired by or based on Sherlock Holmes, the Da Vinci Code (by Dan brown) and A Wanted Man (by Lee Child). I mean, duh, those are my favourites (ROTG and Frozen not included, of course). Therefore, Jack Frost in this story will be a combination of Sherlock, Robert Langdon, Jack Reacher and (of course) himself. Will there be Jelsa? Um, hello? If not, then what's the freakin' point here?

One warning! If you're wondering whether this story is planned out already, then my answer, sadly, will have to be no. I have a plan in mind, but it's rather vague, and I'm mostly improvising here. So there are good news and bad news. Good news is you're free to contribute your ideas and whatever. Bad news is this may not make it to the end. But, I think with your help and encouragement, it might not turn out to be a problem at all. So remember to leave your comments as well as your ideas, provided that you have one, or some, in mind. If not, 'tis okay. You can just sit back and enjoy the show.

Anyway, I've just decided that I've rambled enough. Better shut my mouth now.

It's show time.

Prologue

Jack Frost was sleeping soundly when suddenly the world around him trembled violently, like an earthquake shaking through his whole being. His eyes snapped open and was immediately blinded by a dazzling light shining directly at him. He squinted and tried to move, but his arms felt numb, his legs leaden and his torso seemed to have been frozen to the bed beneath him. Groaning, he gathered all his strength and rolled to one side, reached out and fumbled for something. Finally, he found it and grabbed the object. It was his phone and it was buzzing warmly in his palm. He tried to read the caller ID but everything seemed to be enveloped in a veil of mist. Jack blinked. Once, twice, and after a few more times his vision was clear again, and his brain was once more functioning properly.

'Who's that, mate?' asked his comrade and roommate, Edmund Aster, nicknamed Bunny, his voice still laced with grogginess.

'It's North,' replied Jack, now fully awake. Nicholas St. North was their boss and he was calling him, which was very strange since normally North would tell one of his men, usually Phil, to make a call. He glanced at the time. It read 2.53 am, which was even stranger. If North had to personally call him at this ungodly hour, then it could only mean one thing.

Pressing 'Answer', he said: 'When?'

'An hour ago,' said North through the phone. 'No witnesses. Nightmare's work again.'

Nightmare. Jack scowled at the name. Pitch Black the Nightmare was the most dangerous criminal on earth. And he was Jack's arch-enemy.

But there was something strange about this case. Otherwise North wouldn't have called.

'Was there anything peculiar?'

'Yes. There was a message.'

'From the victim?'

'No. From the killer.'

'Send me the location.' Ending the call, he hopped out of bed and looked at Bunny, who was now just as awake as him and still ignorant of what was the hell was going on. 'Get your cotton-tailed ass out of your burrow, you Easter kangaroo. We've got a new case.'

About an hour later, Jack and Bunny were present at the crime scene. The local forces were already there, and the FBI had been sniffing around for a while. Figured, Jack thought, letting his eyes roam his surroundings.

'Jack! Bunny! Over here!' a feminine voice called out to them.

A woman was waving at them. She was just a little above the average height and shy of thirty-seven. She was slender, with full hips, short black hair that barely touched her shoulders, tan skin, a heart-shaped face and dark eyes shaped like almond. She was pretty, the Western kind of pretty, but she also had the Eastern charms.

'Tooth!' Jack and Bunny both gave her a quick hug. Tooth, whose real name was Thiana Tran, was a woman of South-East Asian origins, and whom the two of them practically grew up with. The name Tooth came from Jack. When she first came to their neighbourhood, Thiana was this shy, half American and half Asian girl with a tiger's fang hanging on the string around her neck whose name was so hard to pronounce for Jack, who was barely a toddler then. So he used to most distinguishing mark on her to identify her - the fang, but then there was only one word that he knew to describe it, which was 'tooth', and since then Thiana Tran became Tooth.

'Where's North?' asked Jack. The three of them were close friends, true enough, but there was hardly any time for pleasantries at this moment. They needed to go straight to business.

Tooth led them to the abandoned warehouse. It was just like any abandoned warehouse, nothing particular, nothing out of ordinary. North was inside, along with several other FBI agents.

'Ah! Jack, Bunny! Finally you've come!' exclaimed North. He was a giant of a man, with a massive torso and tree trunks for arms. He was past fifty, nearly sixty. His hair was all white, but somehow his brows still managed to retain its black colour and his face still looked quite youthful for his age. Unlike Tooth, he wore no jacket. The sleeves of his blue shirt was rolled up, revealing his forearms, which were covered with black tattoos. Nicholas St. North was an intimidating man, for someone who didn't know him or someone who had just pissed him off. Well, he was pissed off right now, at somneone who was not there, but he still intimidated everyone else nonetheless.

Except those who really knew him.

'So where's the dead man?' asked Bunny.

'Come,' said North with a wave of his hand.

It was dark inside, and tonight the moon was hidden somewhere, beyond the clouds. Even with the flashlights, it was hard to see. Not that Jack minded. He had been in this job for nigh on ten years. He was used to it.

'So who found him?' Jack asked.

'Some drunken man who wandered further than he should and got lost. He thought he could find a place to lay down for a while here. What he didn't know, however, is that someone else already beat him to it. Ah! There he is! Go and look all you want, Jackie-boy. He's all yours.'

Jack made his way towards the corpse. It was male, probably in his late forties. He was lying on his back, with his head rolled to one side, his eyes still wide open and his mouth slightly parted, his arms and legs spreading on either of his sides. There were small bruises and cuts here and there on his face and arms, coupled with some pieces of broken wood and fallen stuff around; it was evident that there had been some fighting between the victim and the killer. Jack inspected the body again. The victim was stabbed, not shot - which was very odd, for all victims of Nightmare were killed by guns. The knife had gone from under the ribs. The man did not die instantly. He must have had at least a couple of minutes before he died of blood loss.

Someone had moved him, Jack concluded as his eyes glided over the blood smeared on the floor, leaving a crimson trail near the dead guy. He glanced at the body again. His legs were closed, and his arms were spread, forming a perfect V.

Impossible, Jack thought. This can't be Nightmare's work. He always makes sure that the victim dies instantly.

'He's been dead for about three hours,' Jack concluded. 'Stabbed by some sort of curved knife. Eight to nine inches, I'd presume. There had been a fight between the two of them prior to this, suppose there were only two people, the victim and the killer. Are you sure this is Nightmare's work?'

'Certain.'

'Have our tech guys managed to indentify this man yet?'

'No. They're still looking.'

'So what's the message?'

North pointed his flashlight to the right. 'There. In the corner.'

Jack and Bunny followed North's instructions and found a message written on the wall.

A message written by blood.

Jack had expected to see some sort of threat, a warning, a hint about another upcoming death, some kind of blackmail, but this was by far the weirdest message ever. Especially from such a notorious criminal.

There was a sequence of numbers arranged in no particular order, written backwards. The numbers were all slanted, but some to the left and some to the right, again in no particular order. They looked like they were going to crash into each other and fall at some point if no one were to steady them.

1-2-12-12 8-6-8-12-12-4 12-7-11-8

12-11-12-9-13-7-12 6-9-12 13-5

12-2-6-9 1-11-12

But there was something that caught his eyes most. A dagger was plunged deep into the wall, with ornately decorated silver hilt and a sparkling ruby at the pommel. Two words were carved on the wall next to it. Two words he despised most. Two words that confirmed his greatest fear.

PITCH BLACK

'It makes no sense,' Jack grumbled as he continued pacing back and forth. The picture of the message was still in his hand and his eyes refused to leave it. Sixteen minutes and forty-eight seconds. For sixteen minutes and forty-eight seconds he'd been staring at the picture, wracking his brain trying to figure out what the symbol meant, what those numbers meant, and why Pitch Black himself would leave a message with his own weapon, which he apparently had just used to kill his victim, and signed his own goddamn name.

'Well, that's why we have to solve it, mate,' said Bunny as he casually leaned against their car and inspected his nails.

'Why did he use the victim's blood to write that message? If he wanted to tell us something, why wouldn't he just... write that down already? Why use codes and make us guess the meaning?' inquired North, scratching his bearded chin.

Suddenly, Jack stopped pacing. He drew a sharp gasp and his eyes was mumbling something inaudible, something about 'blood'.

'Come again?' Bunny asked, pushing himself upright.

'It wasn't the victim's blood,' Jack said again, now louder. Or perhaps too loud because now several others were looking at him.

'What?'

'Yes! It wasn't the victim's blood. Test the DNA if you want proof. Look at these pictures,' he slammed three photos on the hood of the car. 'See? There are clearly signs of struggles between them. They must have fought. I don't think the murder was intentional.'

'But... how?' asked Tooth, evidently stunned.

'Yeah. How? Pitch Black is an assassin. He kills people. That's what he does all the time. I don't think he ever intends to not kill anyone,' countered Bunny.

'Maybe this time is different,' Jack stubbornly held his ground. 'Look. My guess is that these two arranged to meet. This guy is a gang member, I'm sure of it, but you can check him later and see how I came to that conclusion. It was supposed to be a professional, non-violence meeting, but I guess something went out of hand and the other guy sparked up the fight. Pitch was injured, and was forced to kill the guy to defend himself.'

'Why would you think like that?' wondered North.

'Because of his handwriting,' Jack slammed another picture on the desk, one of Pitch Black's message. 'We all are professionals here. It's obvious that he was shaking when he wrote this, which indicates two things. One: blood loss had weakened him. However, if there is anything we could learn about this man, it will be that he is pretty damn smart - a real genius here, and will figure out something to stop the bleeding before he gets down to composing his messaage. So that only leaves us with the second theory, which is more likely I'd say, is that he was afraid.'

'Pitch Black? The Nightmare? The king of fears?' Bunny snorted.

'Well, I don't think he's an alien. Do you?' retorted Jack. 'As I was saying, yes, he was afraid. Of what I'm not sure, but I can assure you that Pitch was scared. Frightened, even - desperate. If he wasn't, he wouldn't have had to use his own blood to leave a message.'

'A message to us?' asked Tooth.

'No, to someone. Someone he knows. Someone he trusts.'

'What makes you think so?'

'Because of these numbers,' said Jack. 'These are clearly codes. Secret codes. It can't belong to some organisations. Believe or not, every gang or criminal organisation has eyes and ears everywhere, and things like this could easily reach them, especially when it concerns one of their own. And Pitch seems to be having to deal with some big gang. So no, these codes can't be something widely known. I sense something private here, I tell you.'

'So what are we to do?'

'Three things. Test the DNA. We've been waiting for ten years to catch this guy. I know that it might be no great honour to strike a man when he's most vulnerable, but to hell with honour. The world could do with less a criminal, and this is a master criminal, mind you. Waste no effort to find out who he is and his whereabouts. We'd need everything. Second, identify the dead man. We-no, don't ask. I'm tired of explaining. Just do as I say.'

'And the last thing?'

'Find someone to break the code.'

A/N: Well? What d'you think? I think it's pretty okay. If you agree with me, please review. If you don't, review anyway, but don't praise. Feel free to insult me. I don't mind, really.

One more thing. When I'm say I'm new, I quite mean it. So far I've only wandered the Game of Thrones and A Song of Ice and Fire fandoms (LOL I'm a huge fan of them too) and have only read about five fanfics. Right now I have my eyes on a few Jelsa fanfics but haven't got round to reading 'em yet. If you guys know any good Jelsa fic, recommend them to me! Thanks a lot!

- Piper L.