WARNING: TRIGGER, NON-DESCRIPTIVE NON-CON

Chapter Eleven

Now the nightmare's real

Now Dr. Horrible is here

To make you quake with fear

To make the whole world kneel

And I won't feel a thing

- Everything You Ever, Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog

Loki had not summoned Crippen back into his chambers (as he was now calling the large, mostly empty room) since the day before. He'd been waiting, biding his time. He longed to see how she would react to the little dream he had sent her last night, but he knew that the longer he waited, the more satisfying the release of the build up of harbored emotions would be. The thought of her exploding at him made his blood boil - in an oddly satisfying way.

Resting his hand on his cheek, Loki lazily looked down at the man standing before him, watching Clint Barton with a mild interest. The archer was knowledgable, yes, but at this point, he was only revealing what Crippen had already revealed to him the previous day. However, the things the man had revealed about the Black Widow... A smirk crossed Loki's face as he began to plot.

Suddenly, Loki felt his patience come to an abrupt end. "That's enough, Agent Barton." He stood, banging his staff on the ground as he did. After a sharp nod, Barton turned on one heel and began to stride off. "Oh, Barton? Send in Agent Crippen. I have... matters of the upmost importance to discuss with her."

"Yes, sir." With that, the former SHIELD went to send his comrade-in-arms into the lion's den without batting a crystal blue eye. A shiver ran through Loki as he was reminded once again of the extent of his power. He could bend others' wills to match his own... even on Asgard, he had not yet come across a spell so binding and complete as this. Tightening his grip possessively around the shaft of his staff, Loki's eyes narrowed in on the door, waiting for Agent Crippen to make her entrance.

She would not keep him long. No, she had no choice in the matter.

When she did finally push through the door and into the room, a smile began to play at Loki's lips. There were dark circles under her eyes, indicating that the dream had effected her in just the way he had intended for it to. As she walked towards him, her movements were tense, and it was quite obvious that she did not want to be here.

"You called for me, sir?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm and bitterness. With an eyebrow arched skeptically like that, Loki found it hard not to be impressed with her boldness; not only was she fighting his control, but she was also brave (or stupid) enough to stand up to him, to speak to him, a god and a king, in that tone. She was a fighter, this one - and that would make breaking her all the more fun for him.

"I did indeed," he purred. Rising to his feet, Loki leisurely descended down the stairs, twirling his scepter in his hands. When he reached her level, he looked her over once, and was amused to see that she did not shy away from his rather intense gaze. Then, he turned on his heel and began to walk away from her, a cold smile playing at his thin lips. Pleasure rippled through him as he imagined how her voice would sound when her asked her his next question: broken, lost, devastated, defeated. He wanted to remember that sound always. With his back to her, he smiled slightly, and ask, "Did you sleep well last night?"

To be perfectly honest, he'd been expecting tears or some other expression of extreme sorrow. So, when she let out a little snarl, he froze. "You're a monster," she snapped, hatred coloring her voice.

Something inside of Loki snapped. I am the monster people tell their children about at night. With an animalistic growl, he whirled around, raising his hand to strike her. The back of his hand collided with the side of her cheek, producing an oddly satisfying sound, and the girl flew backwards, skidding across the floor.

Loki was upon her in a flash. He placed his boot right on top of her chest to prevent her from moving, adding pressure as she struggled. When she glared up at him, her eyes were no longer glowing blue with the power of his scepter, but that didn't matter - he was still in control. He pushed further down, not even blinking at the sound of one of her ribs cracking. Gripping his boot with both hands, Crippen tried to push him off of her. Loki simply laughed cruelly.

"You have no idea," he hissed, leaning down of his bent knee to come closer to her. Ice began to pump through his veins, and he could feel the frost taking over. He did not have to look at his hands to know that his skin was turning a deep shade of blue, or to see his face in the mirror to know that his eyes had grown blood red and that fangs were elongating in his mouth. Beneath him, Crippen's eyes widened at the sight of his new form. Ignoring her struggles, Loki drove his foot down further, making the reawakened SHIELD agent wheeze.

"I was made from lies," Loki snarled, spitting at little in her face. "I was stolen from a living hell and brought into another one, one that was disguised as a heaven. Oh, I am sure that for most of its residents, it was a wonderful place to live. But I lived in the shadows of the realm, never seeing the sunlight because it was always blocked - blocked by my idiotic brother, blocked by his friends who followed him blindly, blocked by my bastard father who never bothered to give me a second glance. And when the time came that I uncovered the truth, I was deemed unworthy. A monster in my father's eyes, in everyone's eyes, they cast me out, the rightful king of Asgard.

"So, you are right, Agent Crippen. I am a monster."

The terror that shone brightly in her eyes sent a surge of power coursing through Loki, making him shudder in delight. Pathetic, weak mortal, he thought with a grin. And now I have shown her her place. For emphasis, Loki leaned further down and bared his teeth, a low growl rumbling though his chest.

Suddenly, the corners of Crippen's mouth curled upwards until she was smirking at him. Before Loki could even react to that, he let out a hiss as the girl, who had been clutching his ankle, twisted her hands to the side violently. There was a cracking sound and Loki felt pain shoot up his leg. More surprised than anything else, the Frost Giant stumbled backwards, which allowed Crippen to scramble to her feet.

Fists held in front of her face, Crippen made to move towards him. She punched at him, but Loki, being the god that he was, caught her fist. He twisted it to the side, relishing in her grunt of pain as she started to crumble and twist with it. Then, with his other hand, he grabbed her face and pulled her close to him. "You will lose," he taunted, "because I will break you." Lips curling upward in a snarl, he pushed her back down to the ground again.

In an instant, he was on top on her, straddling her waist. To keep her from escaping, he grabbed both of her hands and pinned them above her head in one of his own, then, leaned in and pressed his lips to her neck. She shuddered. Without warning, Loki bit down, making her cry out in pain. Soon, the rusty blood filled his mouth, and he pulled back, spitting it in her face. She opened her mouth to splutter, giving him the opportunity to claim her lips.

His mouth moved furiously against her still, taut onea. He bit and nibbled at her lips, making them swollen and spilt, but she did not relent. Finally, growing tired of that game, Loki used his free hand to tear through the fabric of her shirt. She gasped, automatically moving to knee him in the chest. With a growl at her resistance, Loki dug his nails into her side, drawing more blood and making her whimper. Her strength was failing now. Oh, how she was growing weak.

Loki ran his mouth over every patch of exposed skin, bitting, nipping, and licking as he went. Adrenaline pumped through him as she struggled beneath him, trying to fight the fact that part of her, the part she could not control, was enjoying this. Her face remained frozen in a look of absolute hatred, and he could hear her mentally scream obscenities at him, but her body... her body reacted to his touch in a way that made him feel powerful.

She was bruised and bloodied, but he was not done with her, not yet. He was merely finished playing with his food - now, it was time for the main course.

He left her there, crumpled up on the floor. Standing up to admire his handiwork, he couldn't help but suppress a grin - he had won.

Bruises covered her body, which was slick with sweat and blood. The scars would forever mark that he had been the one to beat her, to destroy her, to take her. She trembled, like a lost child, her hands curled up into useless little fists. He watched her, laughing mercilessly as she tried to push herself up off the ground, only for her arms to give out from under her, sending her crashing back down.

Looming over her, Loki rolled her over by kicking her with his boot. She did nothing to stop, could do nothing to stop him. Instead, she glared up at him with such a fire in her eyes that for the briefest of moments, Loki felt a flicker of fear. But then he remembered that she was nothing but a useless, silly, mere mortal, and nothing she could do would be of any consequence to him. He rolled his staff about in his hands casually, as if he had not just done the unspeakable.

"You are broken," he told her, satisfaction laced in his tone.

Her lips curled upward in disdain, and when she spoke, though her voice was harsh and gravely, he could still hear the anger, the hatred, and... was that pity? A mortal, a foolish human being was pitying him, a god? Loki scoffed at the very idea.

"Not as broken as you," she retorted, a bitter smile crossing her face.

Fury boiled up inside of him, but this time, he did not show his rage. Instead, he allowed for the heat of anger to banish the frost that covered his heart, making his skin revert to it's usual parlor, turning him back into his preferred form.

Loki spun around on his heel, bending over briefly to pick up his discarded scepter. An idea had struck, a perfectly horrible, brilliant idea. One that would, to quote the humans, add 'insult to injury'.

"Where I am from," Loki began, "the All-Father has an elite group of winged warrior-maidens known as the Valkyrie. They are the ones who chose who dies in battle - they are, essentially, the bringers of death." At that, he pivoted one-hundred eighty degrees so that he was looking directly at Crippen, who had finally managed to stagger to her feet. "You will be my Valkyrie."

He reached forward, extended the staff, and grinned when it came in contact with her chest. The struggle for power ended much sooner than the last time, her eyes going solid black before returning to the glowing, crystalline blue that signified that she was powerless to his will. Instantly, her knees gave out from beneath her, and she crumpled to the ground, exhausted from their previous encounter and from the mental battle.

Loki's eyes shown with malice as he smiled down at her. Here she was, kneeling before him, just as the rest of her kind soon would. The feeling of power that rushed through him was almost over-whelming - he liked it. "You preformed well, Agent Crippen," he whispered, "and so, you shall be rewarded. I am going to give you the gift of the Valkyries."

Ancient energy swirled up inside of him and all around him, and Loki focused in on it, drawing it to him. As it pooled up inside of him, he thought back to the spell he heard, thought about the All-Father conducting the induction ceremony. Under his breath, he began the ancient chant, his eyes fixed upon Crippen. He did not want to miss a moment of this.

The transformation began.

Crippen started writhe in pain, crying out in pure agony. Her body twisted and contorted as she screamed. The longer it went on, the louder and more raw the screams became - it was like music to Loki's ears; he simply loved to here her scream. He watched hungrily as she arched her back, letting out a howl that seemed to make the entire room shake. The skin on her back began to bubble up, turning a darker shade in two patches that ran down the sides of it. The patches rose upwards, something underneath them growing, struggling to break free.

And then they did.

In a spray of blood and skin, a pair of jet black wings burst forth from her back. From her lips came the most unrestrained scream yet, her voice rising countless octaves as she continued to screech in pain. She went on like that until she was breathless, then she collapsed onto the floor, shaking.

Her new blood-soaked raven wings hung over her limply.

Loki simply stared at her, no hint of emotion on his face. "You do not deserve this power, mortal," he hissed. "You are not strong enough to wield it. Every time you do, it shall cause you pain. And now that you are mine, I assure you, you will have a great need to use it, and often. This is your reward, this is your punishment. Power comes with a price, and this is the price you shall pay."

He whipped around then, he cape flowing out behind him with a satisfying swish. "You will lead my army into battle, and you will chose who falls." Pausing, he turned slightly to the side so that he could look at her beaten form. "You will chose who I tell you to chose. And once you have slaughtered your friends and your love, I will let you wake, only to take you as my own again once you have seen the damage you have done.

"You are mine."

With that, he left her there.

He had a meeting with the leader of the Chitauri to attend.