Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.
**WARNING THIS STORY IS "M" FOR A REASON! IT CONTAINS VIOLENCE, INCEST, NON-CON AND REFERENCES TO DEPRESSION AND SUICIDE, AS WELL AS SEXUAL DEEDS AND REFERENCES TO SAID ACT. CONTAINS TRIGGERS.**
As for this story, this is something new that I will be working on when I'm not working on "All We Needed Was A Purpose" which for my readers of that story, don't worry I still have every intention on working on that story. This one was birthed from one hell of a writers block, so i hope it's some good.
*I made Thor only one year older than Loki and Darcy, for the sake of Loki, Darcy, and Thor being in the same high , the other Avengers will be making apperances in this story, but not right away. This is my first time writting something this dark, so i hope that you can connect with my charcters, and please remember that my goal is not to offend anyone, but shed light on what really does happen, and encourage you to take a closer look at what's happening around you.*
I hope you like this story and PLEASE give some feedback because this is all new.
-Singeramg XOXO
Chapter 1: Here in our Hell
Darcy's Pov:
"Ouch"
It hurt to move. I really hope the bastard hasn't broken my ribs again. I pulled myself from the bed, my body aching from old and new injuries.
"Darcy get your ass up!"
I heard my father yell from the top of the stairs.
I had the wonderful pleasure of living in my family's basement. It had all the privacy a 16 year old girl could ask for, but it was also the bane of my existence. I've lost count of how many times I've hit the ground in this room, washed my own blood from the walls, and floors, how many times I'd been locked down here as a child before it actually became my room and I knew how to open the hatch to the outside. It's funny because now this room was my sanctuary in times of pure chaos upstairs, nobody ever really came down here, and I only bled if my father had thrown me down the steps. Case I point last night. I threw water on my face from the sink in the corner. My dad hated me, I was the child that was never supposed to come along. It was all my fault he was an Alcoholic who couldn't hold down a decent job long enough to give his family a fighting chance. It was all my fault that my mom worked two jobs and I worked after school just to keep this family afloat. He blamed me for all of that and usually took it out with violence, I grabbed a pair of jeans ,an oversized black, button down from my drawer and whatever else I needed and raced upstairs to take a shower to hopefully erase some of my aches and wash away all of the blood that had dried from wounds that happened last night.
The shower felt great on my battered skin, I wouldn't know the color of my skin if my dad ever aimed for my face. It was how he kept detection of the beatings low. I reached under the cabinets and behind all the cleaning supplies my family never touched I hid the aspirin. My dad liked to know I suffered after one of his beatings so I had learned to keep all my medical supplies well hidden and only to be used during times he couldn't punish me further. I took a sip of water from the sink and swallowed as quickly as I could manage, then I found myself staring at my reflection. I hated the girl in the mirror, she flinched at every raised voice, she shied away from all relationships because of fear they would hate her like her parents did, she felt like she didn't deserve to be loved, and if she did ever find someone crazy enough to love her, it would be like her dad all over again because that was the only love she knew. How could that be me? In my own head I was strong, why couldn't it translate into real strength. Yeah I could be sarcastic with the best of them, but you peel that away and I was nothing but a hollow shell.
"This is Hell."
I whispered to the dripping faucet and left to grab my stuff and leave for school...
Loki's Pov:
*5:30am*
Hands. Hands all over me, the more I pushed them away the more they grabbed at me. Weight was pressing down on me, the more I fought the heavier it got, the more painful it got. So I stopped fighting, that was when the real pain began...
I shot up straight in my large bed, the way too many pillows I had on my bed normally were scattered across my bed and on the floor. My heavy breathing told me I'd had another night-terror. I have them all the time, I figured it was a side effect of what I suppressed during my awake hours. I hated the nights when I dreamed of nightmares. It was like I could never escape from what I suffered during the time that I was awake. I found that the more I was forced to endure and more often I was forced to endure it, the more I nightmare about my real life horrors.
One attempt to move from the bed told me that I hadn't truly fallen asleep in my king sized bed, in my large room that over looked the west side gardens, that my mother loved to work in. No I fallen asleep in another place and been placed back in my room to give the illusion that I hadn't been defiled and my body subjected to things that nobody should be forced to do. Maybe it was a sense of loyalty or maybe it was because I didn't want to break my mom's heart, but I could never tell anyone. Not a soul of what I endure in the night hours at the hands of the man that had sired me, the unloved one. Fighting my way through the pain, gritting my teeth with every step I ran a hot bath for myself and took some aspirin to dull the stinging and aching pain left behind. I climbed in slowly, grateful to have my own bathroom as I felt those weak; traitor tears crawl from the corners of my eyes and down the edges of my face. I had time to do this seeing as I had awakened far too early for breakfast and to leave for school. No, I'd use this time to wallow in self-pity about the weak, useless, quim I was. Then afterwards I'd suck it all up and put on the face of a sarcastic, smooth talking, moody but brilliant boy I was to the world.
You wouldn't know by looking at our mansion with the 15 bedrooms, 18 and a half bathrooms, pool and pool house 6 car garage, greenhouse and a list full of other amenities I didn't care to think about right now, that inside was pure hell, at least for me. I valiantly put on a face to the public to hide the truth from my mother, my arrogant brother Thor and the entire world that Harold "Odin" Odinson Billionaire oil Barron, was a perverted and sick child molester and since Loki had turned 13 was a child rapist as well. I laid my head back on the tub.
"This is Hell."
I whispered to the empty bathroom...
SO tell me what you think, is it something I should continue with or not?
