Peekaboo

The ice was freshly zambonied in the United Center, as Patrick Kane of the Chicago Blackhawks launched onto the ice. A lot of his teammates were already there warming up, skating around or stretching. He took two laps around the rink focusing on his speed. He flew by his friends, high-fiving or fist bumping them along the way.

At the end of his second lap, he spun around to a halt spraying Jonathan Toews with ice, much to the captain’s dismay. He removed his helmet quickly and tossed his head, shaking his hair. He grinned largely as Jonathan folded his arms and gave him a look, shaking his head. His deep brown eyes seemed to scold Patrick.

“What are we doing, Johnny?” the shaggy haired forward asked, as he ran his fingers through his curly blond locks.

“You’re not going to grow that thing out to a mullet, are you?” the brunette man questioned with concern and worry.

“No, Tazer. My mullet days are over. It was good for 2010 and that’s all. Trust me, I’m not getting another one!”

“Oh, thank God. That thing looked awful on you.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

“Anyway, I thought we’d all warm up a little first by shooting at the goal.” Jonathan raised his head up proudly and spoke with authority.

Patrick looked around, his blue eyes sparkling under the arena lights. They seemed to glow a light blue in color, almost faded in appearance. “Who’s the lucky goalie who gets to receive my backhands?”

“That would be Crow!” The older man nodded in the direction of the main goaltender, who was going through his normal stretching routine sprawled out on the ice.

“But shouldn’t we be letting Raanta take some. After all, he is the backup!”

“He will, but Crow’s got this one!”

He winked at Patrick and patted his shoulder. “Hey, I noticed the other day that you were having shooting issues. What was going on?”

“Nothing went in. I had SO many opportunities, but nothing clicked. It just wasn’t my day.”

“Oh really?” The Chicago captain seemed to be pressing for more. He seemed to know something that Patrick didn’t. But the younger winger had no idea what he was hinting at. “Are you sure there wasn’t something going on?”

“I’m sure. I feel anew and confident! Let’s play!”

“Alright. Kaner, you know you can tell me if anything is wrong. I’m here for you, buddy!”

“I know, Tazer!”

Patrick launched off, scooping a puck into his stick at the blue line. He stick-handled it masterfully around, zig-zagging in a warm-up. His eyes remained down locked on the sight of the disk, before he made his way back to the blue line and shifted his brain waves to think “shoot-out.” He skillfully skated forward and pulled some sick moves, before he drew Corey Crawford, the goalie, out of his crease and easily darted around and tapped the object into the back of the net.

“Ha-ha, Crow, you should be sharper than that man!”

“You got lucky! LUCKY!!”

Patrick and his fellow Blackhawk teammates ran through their drills and practice. He had to make sure that he could score and that he was mentally ready and focused. He didn’t want to disappoint his fans and he wanted to best Sidney Crosby in the leaderboard this year.

Tomorrow the regular season would begin and the Blackhawks had the Dallas Stars. Normally this wouldn’t be much of a match-up, but the Stars had Tyler Seguin and Jamie Benn - one of the newest and emerging talented Dynamic Duos in the NHL. They could play and score! And of course they had a third linemate in the Russian kid.

When they had enough, everyone, sore from the hard work and efforts headed back to the locker room to get ready to head home for the day.


Patrick Kane finished stuffing his bag with all of his equipment that he usually carried with him. He snatched up the strap and flung it over his head and shoulder. He brushed his sweat soaked locks on top of his head in the process and he instinctively shook his head to the side. He felt some of the drops of his perspiration fly off to the side and land on Jonathan Toews’ locker stall.

“Sorry buddy,” he whispered, as he left it alone, grinning to himself.

He grabbed his two hockey sticks and headed for the door. He paused and turned out the light, as he stood in the doorway and looked back at the eerily empty locker room. As soon as blackness engulfed the room, he spotted the Blackhawk symbol in the middle of the floor glowing a brilliant yellow light. Rays exuded from the luminescence that was produced.

Patrick cocked his head. “What the----hell?”

He walked back into the room toward it, mesmerized by the interesting glow that was highlighting the colors of the Indian Head. He halted staring down at it as it continued to glow brightly in the darkness.

The hockey player looked around the room, wondering if one of his teammates was pulling a prank on him. One name came to mind, “Sharpy! This had better not be your doing. Knock it off and go home! We all need to get some rest before tomorrow!”

There was no response.

Suddenly the light glowed brighter. Patrick turned back and painfully squinted his eyes. He lifted his arm up to aid in the shielding of the bright light. A crackling noise sounded, before the wind picked up around him.

Wind?

It howled and swirled around like a hurricane and eventually swept him up, dragging him forward. It was propelling him toward the symbol etched into the floor. Patrick screamed, as he was rapidly sucked into the light and through the ground. Through the Blackhawk symbol. As soon as he disappeared with his bag and two hockey sticks, the light shut off and the room was once more bathed in total darkness.

But where was Patrick Kane?

Notes

I may go back and extend this a little bit more and change it in the next few days, but I really wanted to start this and share it with everyone!
Kaner's gonna be in a Disney Fairy Tale!! There's going to be princesses and princes and hockey!! No, scratch that.... HAWKEY!! lol
I hope it isn't too rushed. If it is, I apologize and I will fix it.
But here is the first "chapter", the prologue for Peekaboo!! :)