This story is ridiculous, but DAMN I love writing it!
I definitely hope to write this faster and without huge gaps in between updates, but I have to deal with what life throws at me. Eh, whatever. -end author talk-
DISCLAIMER: No, I don't own anything.
The room was dark and quiet. Heavy, panicked breathing could be heard. Tony and Clint sat, faces illuminated blue by the computer screen in front of them.
"Oh shit." Clint breathed, jerking the mouse. "He's right fucking there!" said the archer, his voice cracking.
"He can't get you, Clint, unless you look at him." Tony urged, "We've only got one more note to get."
Clint nodded, but the look on his face suggested he wanted to whimper.
Suddenly, the two superheroes screamed and threw themselves backwards. Clint toppled from his chair, landing painfully in between the wall and the desk, while Tony's wheeled chair carried him three metres to the very back of the room, where he slowly revolved until he faced the wall. The computer screen was simply showing static.
"Urgh. I need something to drink." groaned Clint and sat up. Tony rose and helped him up.
"Definitely before we play that again." He agreed and then the two left the room, still feeling a bit shaken.
They were feeling calmer as they stepped into the kitchen, even managing to laugh about how ridiculous they must have looked to anyone watching. Clint pulled open a cupboard, but froze as the light flickered.
"Ominous." He chuckled uncertainly. Tony frowned.
"Diagnostic, JARVIS?" he asked.
"Nothing unusual detected, sir." The AI replied.
Tony grunted, but didn't say anything as he gathered two glasses from another cupboard. He was just beginning to pour themselves a drink when the lights flickered again, but didn't return to power this time.
"JARVIS?" said Tony again.
"Sorry, sir, nothing seems to be amiss. Shall I run a full scale diagnostic?"
"Yeah." Said Tony, and if Clint didn't know better, he might have said Tony sounded nervous.
Suddenly Clint brought his hand down on Tony's forearm and clamped it in an iron grip.
"Tony!" he whimpered and raised his hands to point in a direction across the room.
Tony slowly looked in the direction Clint was pointing and his muscles locked up. The eight-foot figure standing on the other side of the room was unmistakable with its sharp black and white suit and featureless face; Slenderman was standing in Tony's kitchen.
As the philanthropist turned to confirm what he was seeing to Clint, he realised the archer had gone. Clint had bolted out through the door and was running down the corridor. As he skidded round the corner, he pushed himself off the wall and launched right into Loki. The trickster God had the smuggest look on his punch-able face and Clint's epiphany slowly dawned across his face. He face then darkened as he hissed: "You motherfucker."
Always open for requests.