Once again, the direction of this chapter took me by surprise. But you get a mix of plot and theme, so I feel like it worked out. I hope the ending is sufficiently creepy. :) As always, eternal love for my reviewers and alerters and favoriters. It's not 4ever, it's 5ever.
If it makes you feel any better, you finally understand where the title of the story comes from?
Disclaimer: Only the OC, the rest is Marvel's.
Thor was like a raging buffalo. At first, Wynn thought he was being relatively calm (for Thor). He had stood silently for a moment when Jarvis disconnected, and she had a brief hope that he was taking it well.
Until he flipped the table.
The wood splintered about a hundred different ways and Wynn ducked as several Jenga pieces flew into the air. Beside her, Loki blocked his face with his forearm, seemingly indifferent.
"He's done this before," he said quietly to her, eyes following his adopted brother as the man thundered off to the elevator.
"What the hell was that? That was one of my best tables!" Stark hollered at Thor's back; the god whirled around and yelled back twice as loudly, "You were the one who assured me that I did not have to accompany them! Had I been there, Jane would be fine!"
"Your brother was with Wynn when she got the shit beat out of her! I don't think it would have mattered," Stark shot back, and Wynn saw Loki stiffen beside her.
"Shut up, Stark!" Wynn snapped, "Jesus, why would you say something like that?"
"Because it's-"
"That's enough!" Rogers' familiar voice cut through the air, and everyone turned their attention to the man standing at the entrance of the elevator. He held the door with his arm, looking none too pleased. "We don't have time to waste. Let's go."
"I didn't even hear the elevator," Banner told him nervously. The conflict and sudden burst of commotion had left him on edge, as anything concerning loss of control did. Wynn saw Stark pat his shoulder reassuringly before pushing past Steve into the elevator. A huffing Thor wasn't far behind, fists clenched hard at his side.
"You two coming?" Steve called, and Wynn waved a hand at him.
"We'll take the next one down. I'm pretty sure you're reaching your weight capacity."
Steve shrugged and let go of the doors, but before they could fully close she heard Stark yell, "Was that a fat joke?"
Wynn rolled her eyes and bent down to start collecting the Jenga pieces, but stopped when she realized it was pointless. The whole area was one giant mess. Straightening back up, she glanced over at Loki, who hadn't attempted to move.
"Stark can be a real ass sometimes," she told him, and he looked to her for a moment, something unreadable in his eyes.
"But he speaks the truth," Loki said, and Wynn shrugged.
"Not the whole truth. We know what really happened and that's the only important thing, right?" She paused and let that sink in before heading to the elevator.
"C'mon, we should go. Help out if we can."
"…I suppose."
Wynn wasn't sure what she had expected, but it certainly wasn't the chaos that ensued. She and Loki arrived downstairs just as the van pulled into the large parking garage, and Darcy burst from the vehicle before it could even come to a full stop.
From the back of their small group, she could see that Darcy's face was red and bloated with tears. Wynn pushed between Steve and Banner to catch her friend as she buckled to the ground, weeping. There was a splotch of red on her cheek the size of a dime, and Wynn could feel dried blood in her hair. Her stomach churned with fear.
Natasha and Clint dragged a barely conscious Jane from the van, Erik sticking close behind, face drawn with fear. Before they could even get her feet on the ground, Thor snatched the small girl up and into his arms.
"Check her for a concussion, Banner," Natasha said wearily. "We'll have to take care of her arm in the morning."
As Thor brushed past her, she could see the blood that crusted across Jane's forehead, the splatters on her shirt. Her elbow crooked out in an ugly, unnatural angle, and Wynn gripped the back of Darcy's head harder to keep her from looking up.
Banner and Steve followed Thor the wide expanse to the elevator, leaving the rest of them behind, shocked into silence.
"Holy shit," Stark muttered, pushing his hair back.
"Come on," Wynn whispered to Darcy, and dragged her to her feet. Darcy pulled back, face beet red, looking a little more than unstable.
"I'm good, I'm fine," she said, but her voice wobbled dangerously. Wynn squeezed her wrist in an attempt to comfort her, and she could feel the steady race of Darcy's pulse beneath the skin.
"What the hell happened out there?" Stark asked, and Wynn saw his eyes flicker down to the small droplets of blood that had littered the concrete.
Erik sank down to sit on the floorboard of the van, gripping the door as if to keep himself upright.
"It all happened so fast, I couldn't…I was testing the thermal scanner when I heard Jane start screaming," Erik said in a tired voice, obviously drained. Clint gave him one hard pat on the shoulder.
"I was the closest," Darcy said, almost making Wynn jump. She hadn't expected the girl to start talking anytime soon, assuming her shocked into silence.
"It was some woman, like Amazonian-warrior status. She was super tall and her hair was a frickin' rat nest."
Darcy paused and pressed her lips tight together before scratching her wrist nervously.
"I saw Jane go down. That freak grabbed her and threw her into the side of the van. And I swear to God, I – I yelled for Jane and she turned around and…"
By the end of the sentence, Darcy's voice was trembling again, and she looked like she might start crying. Wynn grabbed her by the wrist again and asked softly, "C'mon, Darcy. What? What did you see?"
"She smiled at me. Like she was having the best fucking time of her life, that kind of smile. And all of her teeth were like…I don't know, like shark teeth."
"By the time we got there, whoever it was was gone," Natasha said, crossing her arms. The woman looked upset at admitting that they didn't get there in time. Wynn wondered if this was the first time she had failed to stop an attack before it happened. Probably not, but actually declaring it out loud was a definite stab to her sensitive-assassin pride.
"So we've got two connected incidents. What now?" Erik asked warily, as if scared to hear the answer.
"As soon as Jane is able to, we'll sit down and work through this. There's got to be a revealing connection we're missing. After that, I don't know," Wynn said, and Stark scoffed. He had stopped staring at the blood on the floor, but Wynn wished he'd go back to looking down. He almost looked scary, his face twisted in an angry display. Full-on raging alpha lion protecting his pride. That kind of angry.
"That's easy. They've been hunting us. Now we're going to hunt them."
It was near midnight by the time Wynn had calmed Darcy down enough to convince her to go to her own room. She rode up in the elevator with her and walked her to the door, like a gentleman taking a lady home in the dark.
Darcy held the doorknob in her hand and twisted it slowly, like it would bite her. She started to go in, but then turned back and said quietly, "Wynn, I'm scared. Like really scared because I know as soon as I fall asleep I'll see that smile."
She paused and bit her bottom lip. "Even when New Mexico was getting blown to pieces, I wasn't this scared. Because we don't know who these people are. I feel like…like I'm that one black guy in a horror movie, you know?"
Despite how serious Darcy was being (for once), Wynn couldn't help but to laugh.
"I won't let you get killed first, Darcy."
"That's not funny," Darcy snapped, and Wynn tried to tame her smile, but it didn't quite work.
She cleared her throat and said, "Sorry, sorry, you know I don't mean it. But seriously, I won't let anything happen to you, Dar, I promise. And if you get scared, I'm one floor away. Come get me in the morning and we'll go see Jane."
"Okay," Darcy sighed in defeat, but Wynn could tell that her worry hadn't been eased one bit. Nonetheless, the girl disappeared into her room and shut the door behind her with a muted thud.
Wynn stood there for a moment before heading back to her own room; as she opened the door, Loki came into view. He sat on the couch, feet propped on the glass table in front of him, turning over a book in his hands. Under his feet, Nanook lay dead asleep, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and sticking to the floor.
After their first – rather violent – meeting, the dog had warmed up to the god, and it didn't matter how many times Loki pushed him away in disgust. Wynn remembered the exact day Loki had given in and patted Nanook on his head, acting like it was a chore.
As if reading her mind, Loki said, "The beast is persistent."
"He likes you," Wynn said, yanking off her sweater and throwing it on the bed. She straightened her t-shirt and shrugged. "I mean, he likes everyone, but considering you basically punched him, I'm pretty surprised. I think it was that time you fed him the apricot chicken and thought I didn't notice."
Loki wrinkled his nose.
"It was too sweet. Even Volstagg would have left remains on his plate."
"That's just rude, for one thing, and who's…wait, don't tell me! I remember." Wynn pressed her fingers to her temple, as if looking like a constipated mind reader would help her recall the name.
"Oh!" she half-yelled, "The fat warrior, right?"
Loki stared at her blankly, and then raised his hands to applaud her with a slow clap. Wynn curled her lip at him and blew a raspberry.
"Don't be a smartass. I don't have infinite memory storage like you. And – hey, what's that?" she asked suddenly, and Loki held the book out to her while commenting, "You do realize that you interrupt yourself, correct? That's quite a talent."
"Thanks, I try," Wynn muttered as she took the book from his hand. The brown, crinkly cover felt familiar in her hands. She turned it over, and the words "Wicked Fairytales for Wicked Ones" stared up at her.
"This is my dad's book. Where'd you get it?" she asked.
"It was lying on your dresser?" Loki told her, one eyebrow raised.
"Oh. Right. I forgot I had been reading it a few nights ago."
He snorted as Wynn plopped down beside him on the couch, cracking the worn book open to a random page. She flipped through a couple of pages slowly, Loki peering over her shoulder.
The smell of must drifted up to her, and Wynn almost sighed in contentment. It was a comforting smell; her father had read her a story from the book almost every night, and no matter how he tried to air it out, the musty scent would never leave.
"Is it a children's book?" Loki asked, and Wynn shook her head the tiniest bit.
"In a sense. Some are more appropriate for kids than others. My dad only ever read me the…safer ones. It's full of scary or tragic fairytales. Definitely no 'and the prince married the princess and they lived happily ever after' type crap."
Wynn stopped at page 342, the most memorable page there was. Her fingers ghosted over the faded title, "Seven Years of Winter", and traced the small illustration of the tree that branched off of the 'r'.
"This was my favorite," she murmured. "No matter how many times my dad read it, I would beg him to read it again. It's the only love story in the entire book. Of course, it's a tragedy, but it's the thought that counts."
Loki was quiet for a minute, studying her profile, before saying, "By the look of it, I would guess that you're about to explain it to me whether I ask or not."
"Damn straight," Wynn replied, dimpling one cheek at him. She wasted no time jumping in - she remembered the tale by heart, so she didn't even bother to pretend she was reading.
"So once upon a time, there was a kingdom set in a land where it's perpetually spring. It was beautiful and green; but every century, winter would set in for 7 years. The king had three sons, and the youngest loved to horseback ride. One day, he saw a peasant girl on the outskirts of a small village, picking herbs. He thought she was beautiful, but when he tried to talk to her, she ran. But he persisted, coming back day after day, until she would finally speak with him. Needless to say, because it is a fairytale, they fell in love."
Wynn paused to waggle her brows at Loki, and he waved his hand at her, impatient.
"Okay, okay. So where was I? Yeah, they fell in love. When the king found out, he was furious. He couldn't have his son marry a peasant; it would disgrace the family. He went to the infamous sorceress and paid her in gold and jewels so that she would murder the peasant girl without his son knowing. Like an old-century hitman.
The sorceress tells the king that in a fortnight, on the first day of winter, she will kill the girl. Sure enough, she disguises herself as the prince and finds the girl, waiting in the field as always, while the king distracts his son. The prince appears to the girl as frantic, because he grabs her and tells her that his family knows of their love and won't allow him to see her anymore.
"By midnight, meet me by the tallest oak tree, deep in the woods. We will run away together." Like that doesn't sound suspicious, right? But she agrees, because she loves him more than anything, and does as she's told. Of course, the prince never comes. The girl waits all night, and doesn't move from the tree even when it begins to snow. By the morning, she's so snowed in that her back has frozen to the tree, and by the end of the day, she's dead. Tragic, right?
But the prince is so adamant in believing that she loved him that he assumes her kidnapped or lost, rather than think she has abandoned him. He goes riding out into the forest, despite the king's protests, and searches for her. It's days before he finds her body, only because he sees the scarf he gave her as a gift peeking through the snow nearby.
He's pretty much devastated, and instead of letting her go, he lays down beside her in the snow and lets himself die. You know, the whole "I'd rather die than be without you" thing. The prince never returns to his kingdom, and it's not till seven years later, after spring has returned, before anyone goes searching for a body. And they never found one, because the prince and the girl melded into the tree, locked in an embrace."
Wynn stopped talking and waited for Loki to say something, but he sat silently. Not the reaction she was hoping for. She figured he'd have died with disgust by now.
"The end?" she added.
"There are so many incorrect elements to that story, I don't know where to begin," he finally said. Oh. So he had shut up to criticize it in his mind. Great.
"Loki, you're missing the point. It's a fairytale. Nothing makes sense."
"A prince would never even bother looking at a peasant girl." He sounded slightly offended, as if Wynn had just offered his royal hand a dirty tissue.
"It's. A. Story. No, back in ye olde medieval times, or Asgard, if that's where you're getting your information, a prince wouldn't bother with a peasant. But he thinks she's pretty because I don't know, maybe he has a lazy eye or something and couldn't help but notice her. And then they fall in love and it's fairytale love which means it's un-frickin'-breakable, all right? Also, yes, I know dead bodies don't grow into trees but it's supposed to be symbolic of an eternal tomb. Or something."
Loki gave her a deadpan look, and she held up her hands in mock surrender. Tough crowd.
"Sorry you didn't like the story," she muttered, flipping a few pages backwards. Maybe she could find a story that was morbid enough for his tastes. Suddenly, Loki slammed his hand down on the book and Wynn yelped, nearly smacking him in the face. Beneath them, Nanook lifted his head in alarm, tongue dried and stuck to the side of his muzzle.
"What's your problem?" Wynn wheezed. Her thigh was going to have a bruise the size of a grapefruit. Granted, it would go away in five minutes, but still.
"Look," he hissed, and pushed the crown of her head down so that she was staring at the page.
Holy mother.
The illustration was faded, the colors dull, like so many others in the ancient book. But the image was clear. A woman, probably what was considered beautiful in that time, crouched on the chest of a sleeping man. Shadows in the shape of hands crept along the walls of the man's room, reaching for him. But what was actually disturbing was the huge, toothy smile the woman had drawn on her face. Shark teeth.
A small description under the illustration:
"And thus, having forsaken the old woman's warnings, the man left his dreams unguarded and a succubus crept upon him, mouth full of teeth which she would mash to devour his heart, arms strong so that she may rip the beating thing from his chest."
"You've got to be kidding me."