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V3 World Heavyweight Champion
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((B050 - Start))

Kronwall has a penalty shot here folks. This entire XCEL Energy Center is on their feet as #55 for the Wild stands at centre ice. This is the moment that kids dream about from the time they first lace up their skates. Niklas Kronwall has a penalty shot, in overtime, in Game 7, to win the Stanley Cup. The referee has indicated that they are ready for the shot, and here we go. Kronwall, Game 7, for the win. He picks up the puck at centre, coming across the blueline with speed, Kronwall in, he dekes, he shoots, he--


The sound of a gunshot cause Nik to sit straight up in a panic. Breathing heavily his eyes searched all around for the source but found nothing. His view was impeded by a large house. It appeared as though he was placed in the backyard with a duffle-bag next to him. He rubbed his eyes as he tried to remember how he arrived at this strange location. This was not the campground, that much he could figure out.

"What the hell is going on? Is this some weird t.v. show?" Nik muttered in his native Swedish tongue.

Slowly Nik rose to his feet. He was still mindful of keeping an eye out for a possible gunman. Figuring his best bet was to seek cover, just in case, Nik made his way to the back door of the house. Luckily the door was unlocked, so Nik made his way inside.

"Hello?" He said cautiously.

He received no answer, which he took as a chance to open up his dufflebag and find out what was going on.

"Oh my God, it's real." Nik gasped.

He had still been extremely groggy during the panic that ensued in the classroom. He'd thought it was just a prank that the counselors had played before he went back to sleep.

Nik rummaged through the bag some more, finding a map and the survival guide. He placed them gently on the table next to him. He stuck his hand back in the bag again and felt a chill go up his spine as his hand found something cold and steely. Nik pulled the handgun from his pack. He knew it well. Mr. Killop, his billet, owned the exact same model. A Colt M1911, .45 caliber. Nik knew how to use it too. It had been a requirement to carry a sidearm when Mr. Killop had taken the Kronwall boys bear hunting in Northern Michigan, and Paul's Colt 45 had been Nik's sidearm.

"No. I can't use this. These are my friends. They've been so good to me since I arrived in America."

Nik hastily threw everything back in his bag and made his way to the front room of the house. He looked out the window in time to see a small gathering of people in the centre of town near some flowerbeds. He recognized a couple of people. Fiona Sparki being one person who he'd spoken many times after being introduced by Evelyn.


Nik felt tears well up in his eyes as he wondered if Evie was okay and where she could be.

The other people looked like Jessica from his English class and Alex Jackson from his US History class. All three of whom he'd never had a problem with. Then again, outside of Fiona, he'd rarely spoken to them. Oh well, better to try with them now.

Nik opened the front door of the house and slowly made his way towards the group. As he closed the distance to the group, he noticed there was someone on the ground. A pool of red flowing from underneath the body.

Nik gulped as he wondered whether or not one of these girls was to blame for the body. Was he about to be Charlie's Angel'd?

"Umm, hello there. It's Nik. Is everyone doing okay?"
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