Okay, so I've decided to go ahead and start this one and get it done and out of the way first. This is a five-chapter story which was requested by a Lightning fan on here. Hope you enjoy this short little mystery tale, I've made. (I like mystery-thrillers)

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Ondrej Palat and Nikita Kucherov walk into the locker room inside of Amalie Arena. They share a look with one another and put all of their equipment away in their stalls, which are next to one another.

"Where's Johnny?" Palat asks, turning to his Russian friend.

"Should be here soon," Kucherov responds. "He said he come in few minutes." He glances toward the door of the room and points at it with his thumb.

"You know Johnny though, Kuch."

"Yeah. Guess we have wait for him." Kucherov shrugs and sits down in his stall. He looks up at Ondrej with shiny blue eyes and cracks a smile.

"Johnny? As in Tyler Johnson, right?" a male voice questions, drawing the attentions of the two Lightning Bolts. A small figure in a black hood and cloak stands in the doorway of the locker room with a freaky grin on his face. In one of his hands he holds a golden yellow Warrior hockey stick.

Palat spins around and Kucherov jumps to his feet. They grab their hockey sticks and hold them out before themselves, shocked at the newcomer and perturbed.

"Who are you and how did you get in here?" Palat demands.

"Yeah, this is private room. Only Lightning players."

The figure steps forward and closes the doors, locking them behind him. He then slowly lowers his hood and smirks at them. "Relax Russian, it's just me."

"Marty St. Louis?" Palat questions, slowly lowering his stick down before him.

"Surprised to see me, huh Pally?" Marty sneers, spinning his stick in his hands.

"Yeah, what are you--doing--?" Palat questions, raising an eyebrow as he eyes the former Lightning captain. His sly tone is odd and not at all welcoming.

"Where's Tyler Johnson and the others?" Marty asks, his smirk twisting darkly.

"Not here." Palat responds, curiously. "I mean they aren't here at the moment. Why?"

"Excellent. So there's no one to hear you two scream?" Marty responds, his eyes glittering with an evil vengeance. He begins to chuckle with a hearty villain laugh as he spins his stick in his hands.

Palat looks at Kucherov and then steps in front of the Russian. "I got this Kuch!"

"Me too, Pally! I want help," Kucherov says, shoving himself before his friend. He raises his stick up and swings at Marty, who deflects the blow with his own hockey stick.

Palat joins in, swinging his own stick around. Marty skillfully stops them both, spinning his stick in his hands and launching the three into a Darth Maul-Jedi-type of battle (only with hockey sticks and not lightsabers of course). Eventually he breaks Kucherov's stick in half and is able to tear Palat's from his hands.

Palat backs up in stunned silence, unable to form words as Marty swiftfully shoves Kucherov away and then brings his stick hard into the back of the forward's head. The Russian slumps on the ground and the Czech player gasps.

"Kuch!" Palat manages to gasp before he finds himself backed into a literal corner. He grabs a helmet from the shelf to his side and hurls it toward Marty, who easily dodges the flying object. "Why? Why are you doing this Marty?" In response to the question, Marty snickers and brings his stick across Palat's head now and knocks him out.

Marty looks at his stick and smirks. "Not even a scratch. Stupid Lightning Bolts. You should never have traded me and gotten that little replacement rip off of me! That damn Spokanian, Tyler Johnson!"

Marty sets his stick to the side and quickly binds Palat and Kucherov's wrists, ankles, arms and legs together with black duct tape, before taping their mouths shut. When he is done, he leaves a note in Tyler Johnson's stall and then grabs his stick back up and drags the bodies of the two unconscious forwards toward the back door of the locker room, not bothering to care about unlocking the front.

"Come and find your precious friends, Tyler!" Marty snickers as he lets the invisible back door to the locker room close behind him.

He quickly drags the two forwards out the door and down a slight slope to his car. He shoves them into the car and then hops into the driver's seat and peels off with them helplessly inside of his car.

Meanwhile,

Tyler Johnson stands, leaning against his stick as he watches Vladislav Namestnikov attempt to score on Ben Bishop. Vladdy fakes a shot, like a golfer warming up and then mimics a pool player trying to see the proper angle and making sure that everything is set. He gets set after a few seconds and adjusts his equipment, before he sighs and removes his helmet, brushing his boyish hair back.

"Oh would you just take the shot already, Vladdy," Tyler scolds.

"Shut up Johnny! I'm not losing to you AGAIN!" Vladdy snarls as he flicks his head back and then stuffs his helmet back on his head. "You always have to win. But not this time."

Tyler rolls his eyes playfully. "Just shoot Vladdy."

Vladdy cradles the puck in his blade and then launches toward the goal. Bishop lowers into position and watches the young blond closely. Vladdy attempts to deke him out and throw him off with a fancy stick and footwork but Bishop dives across and denies Vladdy, high glove side.

"YEAH!" Tyler screams, raising his hands and stick into the air with a big smile on his face as Vladdy rounds the net and slams his stick into the boards, frustratingly.

The young blond forwards comes back toward the goalie, who lifts his helmet up and turns to his water bottle. "You were supposed to let me have that one! You promised Bish!"

"No, I don't remember promising you anything, Vladdy. Better luck next time," Bishop says as he dumps the puck into Vladdy's gloved hand, before chuckling to himself and returning to his water, happily sipping it.

"You know the rules Vladdy Boo, you have to clean up all the pucks!" Tyler taunts him, playfully.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Hey, cheer up, sooner or later you'll get me...but probably not for a long time!" Tyler says, patting Vladdy's shoulder.

Vladdy sighs and skates off, beginning to collect all of the pucks. He grumbles to himself, shaking his head, "Never challenge Tyler Johnson to a goal scoring contest." He snatches up the bag and puts all the pucks into it.

Tyler skates to Bishop. "Nice stop there man."

Bishop snorts and leans against the goal. "Yeah, you owe me. But you should also start to be nice to the kid. I mean he is an honorary Triplets sometimes. And he does help you out. Maybe let him have one win sometime."

Tyler shrugs. "We'll see. I'm gonna head to the locker room and find Pally and Kuch. I said I'd be right behind them and this took longer than planned. We're finally finding our rhythm again as a line too! Vladdy can be an honorary Triplet, but he'll never be a Triplet!"

With that he skates toward the tunnel and exits the ice. Bishop watches Vladdy pick up the pucks. He sighs, feeling bad for the young kid and skates over to help him out. Vladdy looks up at his goalie and smiles. "Thanks Bish."

Bishop just shrugs and together, they pick up the pucks and then head toward the tunnel, just as a loud scream echoes toward them. Vladdy looks to Bishop as they skid to a halt in the bench, both shocked by the distress-filled shout.

"Johnny!" they deduce and then race down the tunnel as fast as they can, heading toward the scream's origin, finding Tyler Johnson on the ground of the locker room, gripping onto a piece of paper. His hockey stick is on the ground to his side and his helmet, gloves are scattered around his body. His hands are shaking the paper as he holds it tightly in his fingers. Palat and Kucherov are nowhere in sight.

"Hey, Johnny, what's wrong? What happened?" Vladdy asks. "Where's--?"

Tyler slowly moves his head to the side to look at them. "Pally...and Kuch....someone kidnapped them!"

Vladdy blinks and takes a step back. "Who? Why?"

Bishop looks down at his feet.

Tyler shakingly hands Vladdy the note. The young blond Russian player grabs it and quickly reads the contents of the note. A ransom note. From Marty St. Louis. All joking and fake hostility aside, Vladdy looks up with sympathetic blue eyes at Tyler and whispers, "Marty? Marty St. Louis? Did this?"

Tyler nods and finally breaks down in tears. "He kidnapped Pally and Kuch! Marty St. Louis kidnapped Pally and Kuch, my best friends!"