Some believe that before the universe, there was nothing. They're wrong. There was darkness... and it has survived.
Trigger: People die. Mini-torture, well, sort of.
Germany
The test was unbearable. My everything hurts. Even more horrifying, the scientist, interrogators, were enjoying it, immensely. My brain, my whole body feels like it's on fire. No. I've been through fire and this burning is much, much worse. I feel like I'm going to explode any second. Even with my high tolerance of pain, this this, just HURTS! No; this is way past hurting. I have no other word for this pain. I can't even feel numb if I wanted to. I don't think I'd wish this upon my worst enemy. God. Make it stop. I bet Hell doesn't even burn this bad. And yet, I can't even scream. Even if I could, I wouldn't, I won't give them the satisfaction of letting them know they are succeeding in whatever sick test they're trying to do. I will not let them win. No matter how much it burns.
They do stop drilling and injecting me, with whatever they have, every once in a while. But what's the point? As soon as one stops and leaves another just comes right after him and does the same thing and the burning starts all over again.
I don't know whether I'm awake or not. I keep drifting back and forth from and into consciousness trying to escape the pain and I don't know which is which anymore.
I had no idea where or when I was? Everything looked so different and new. I slowly blink trying to figure out what the hell had happened.
The last logical thing I can remember is the assignment Clint and I were on. Fury had sent us off to Neuschwanstein. A simple small infiltration-data mission. I could have done it alone, but Barton insisted he come. Clint was my escort in, of course. A big player who had more than enough money to gamble and spend. We eventually planned to separate at the gala then meet back up at our hotel while I got what we needed. I flirted with then drugged the man we were stealing the files from. Uploaded them to our SHIELD server, then erased any sign of me being there. On my way back, I was ambushed by four guys which I easily took care of, with my unusual but slick hand to hand training; but one I somehow didn't see stabbed me with a dart which landed so conveniently in my neck, almost instantly knocking me out. And now I'm here. Wherever here is.
"Nice of you to finally join us, Ms. Rushman" said a man with a rough German accent who I couldn't recognize as my vision was still heavily blurry and my hearing was a little off. He looked around 40. Not too old but not too young. Most likely the man in charge here but no way the overall leader. He used my cover name, so he mustn't know who I really am, but I was sure to erase all possible tracks of Natalie here. How?
Continuing my trance I quickly attempt to scan the room for any exits and don't find any. Damn. Guess I'll just go the hard way. If – no, when I get my strength back I'm going to-
"Sir, I don't think she's ready yet" said a young man interrupting my thoughts. No older than twenty-one, he must be. "There are still many tests we need to do," he said while giving me a slight sympathetic look.
Weird. Every time I make eye contact, I see that every one of these guys have an odd yellow-green glow to their eyes. Humph. Couldn't possibly be –
"Then put her back vunder. She isn't going anyvhere. Hopefully dhis subject actually survives. If not, oh vell. Ve'll get another," said the older man.
And before I could react, I was rapidly losing my very short grip on reality, until I faded back into unconsciousness. Again.
I eventually re-awoke in a dark room. Oh wait – I lied. It's not completely dark. There's just something on my face but I can see a very faint light through whatever the hell is on my eyes.
My body feels unbelievably better but sore. It couldn't be poison the injected me with, no. if they wanted me dead, they've done it.
Of course my hands are bound I thought then sighed. I ferociously shake my head and rub it against my arms trying to get the blindfold off my eyes. Done. The room is basically completely dark except for a faint light coming off a lamp in the corner. Other than hat and the bed-chair I'm tied to and the wires and tools that I'm surrounded by, the room is empty. Wait. Is that, blood? And dead bodies? I have no idea what had happened between my last knock out, but it was something major apparently. I see lab coats stained in the color. Straight ahead is that one older German man with a knife through his eye. Ouch. That must've hurt. I quickly look away before my subconscious saves these images and attempt to plague me with even more nightmares.
I use my flexibility to my advantage and yank my arms down while pulling my legs up into a ball shape and break the ties on my arms. I guess they assumed I didn't 'survive' so they didn't bother tying me all the way up. I stalk forward to the dead older man and pull out the knife. I do need a weapon, I think, ignoring guilt or other emotions that might creep up on me. I rip apart a couple wires and tie it around my right hand, just in case; I doubt they would leave this kind of place unguarded. Unless they're all dead, my mind absently thought.
Stealthily, I walk forward around the perimeter of the wall, my free hand out, until I can find the door. Once I twist it open, I slip out and scout right. Clear. I start running on instinct. The place seems deserted considering what I saw in my room – cell – testing lab? So I should be able to take out anyone, if necessary. I just need to get out of here. Preferably alive.
I finally reach a door reading "Emergency Exit" and ran out of it.
Sunlight! I'm really surprised how easy that was. A little too easy, but I'm not trying to jinx anything. Whatever attacked those men must've been angry and who knows if it could be after me to.
Discovering my surroundings, I notice it looks like I'm still in Germany. Not sure if this is a good thing, or a bad one.
There's a payphone about twenty meters ahead which I stumble over to and dial familiar cell number. I hope he answers and he's still here, I think.
"Clint, it's me... Yeah, I'm fine... Look. I got compromised and I'll brief you back at the hotel... Alright, can you GPS this payphone and come pick me up. I have no idea where I am... Right. Bye."
Having nothing to do, but wait around in these bloodstained clothes – I'm not even sure if it's my blood or not... Shit. Shit Shit Shit. If anyone saw me right now in this – what the hell am I even wearing? It looks like a combination of a hospital gown and my dress from last night. What the hell?
I quickly skip across the street into the alley before anyone really notices me. Fortunately, Clint arrives just minutes later and I casually walk up into the van and hop in.
"Nat, you alright?" he asks.
"Could be a little better. Can we just get back to the hotel? I want to shower and attempt to rest a little before I have to deal with the debriefing and Fury"
"But your clothes–"
"I'm fine"
He gives me a silent sympathetic look then puts his hand on my shoulder, trying to reassure me. I nod and fake a smile back. He eventually starts driving after I continually stare out of the window, avoiding his gaze.
!
"My lord, Malekith?" said an underling elf.
Not looking at the elf who spoke to him he said "It has begun. We will strike soon. Very, soon".
!
"They did what?" Clint exclaimed while continually pacing the small hotel room, "We need to get you to a SHIELD hospital, Nat! We have no idea what they put in you. What if it's poison or a bomb or some type of self–"
"Don't worry. Calm down." I responded resigned. "If I could handle everything they put me through at the Red Room, I'm pretty sure I can handle this. There's no way it could be worse than New York".
"We don't even know who did this." He stopped pacing and looked directly at me, "What if they're after you? Me? Fury? After SHIELD? Using you as bait."
"Clint. As we both know I'm a highly skilled assassin who gave the word 'bad-ass' a whole new meaning. I think I can handle a couple of German guys." He still didn't look convinced. "Okay, look. I'll go to the SHIELD infirmary when we get back. Stop worrying, you're turning into such a girl" Clint visibly calmed down and relaxed if only a little. On that note I grabbed my luggage and headed for the bathroom. "I'll be out in fifteen"
! MEANWHILE ON A FAMILIAR REALM!
"We've been over this for centuries Loki! This is the last time you shall defy me and the laws of Asgard," Odin shouted over his adopted son's foolishness and absurd complaints. He'd just about had it with Loki. He's given him so many chances over the many years, and he seems undynamic to redemption.
"It wasn't my fault. I didn't have much of a choice father" Loki extended the last word in a long sarcastic drawl. "It was either take over Earth and hand over the cube or death. I choose to live".
"Enough!" the Allfather raised his voice, then calmly continued, "You are lucky you were not sentenced to death–"
"Lucky!?" Loki quickly retorted, taking a slight step toward the Allfather.
Odin continued as if Loki hadn't spoken, "Frigga is the only reason you are alive. You are to be taken into Asgard's prison and stay there."
"So I am to be left to rot in a cell? All for what? Going to Midgard and acting like what I am? A king, a god!?"
"A god? We are no different than they are. We are born, we live, we die."
"Pfft. Yes." he breathed "give or take five thousand years," he mumbled the last part to himself, but Odin still caught it.
"If you so wish for this to be your fate," they made eye contact for the smallest of seconds and while Odin did genuinely feel slightly sorry for his adopted son's fate, –that is, until Loki retorted at the look and gave a look of crude and revulsion at the sentimental gesture, "So be it."
Loki deftly uttered "I was supposed to be king–"
"Loki." Odin cut him off and after a four second stare down he continued. "Guards!" Odin said, and with that notion, Loki was whisked away and by his chains; taken into the many depths of the Asgardian prison and locked in a cell to forever buncombe there.
!