"You want me to attack you?!"
I stare at Loki, a disbelieving look on my face. There is NO WAY I am attacking the god of mischief! That's suicide!
"Yes," Loki answers, like it's obvious. "You must learn how to fight. Remember what I told you about magic."
"Only use it sparingly, and when absolutely necessary, until I'm better trained?"
"Correct. I will teach you the proper skills of combat as we spar." He steps back and takes up a defensive position. I quickly do the same, starting to get very concerned. All I have as a weapon is the blunt knife Loki just gave me a moment ago for training, and my pow- no, magic. I can use my fists if need be, but I know next to nothing about hand-to-hand combat other than that! I've never used a knife in a fight in my life, and Loki—
No. Stop. Breathe. Panic will severely limit you. I set my jaw and grip my knife firmly, knowing I need the training but definitely not wanting it. "Ok, but I have no clue how to use a knife in a fight, so prepare to be horrified," I say, wincing. This is probably going to hurt...
"That is why I'm training you," Loki responds.
I bite my lip, heart rate picking up as I decide to make my move, and cringing inwardly at the sloppiness of my advance. I take two steps forward and immediately slice at Loki's throat, but he blocks with his left arm and slices at my throat with his right hand, which is grasping a knife of his own. I try to block by raising my left arm, but I'm not fast enough. He holds the blade at my throat for a moment, then backs up and resumes his defensive stance. "Again."
I blink. That took less than two seconds. What the heck.
I shake my head and attack again, this time feinting a slice at his throat again, then punching him in the gut with my left fist while he blocks my knife slice. He grunts, and I, surprised that the maneuver worked, hesitate slightly. Bad move. He immediately retaliates by grabbing my right arm, which is still outstretched from where he'd blocked my knife slice, and using the leverage to throw me to the ground. I hit the grass with a thud, and try to roll aside, but Loki is on top of me in an instant, knife at my throat. "Never hesitate," he says, then gets up and takes up another stance. "Again."
I quickly get up as well, surprised that I don't feel out of breath or even jarred from the two quick encounters. Taking up a fighting stance this time, I rush at him, once again feinting a slice at his throat, but at the last second I switch hands and try to stab his gut. I end up on the ground so fast I'm not entirely sure what happened.
"Again."
I stand up more slowly this time. He just about knocked the air out of my lungs. I need to try something else...
Putting a few different tactics I've seen in movies to good use, I try stabbing immediately. And end up with a knife at my throat in five seconds. I try slashing his legs, and get thrown to the ground with his knee on my chest and his knife at my throat. I try feinting to one side, dropping the knife and using just my fists, kicking his legs out from under him, taking his knife, and several other tactics. Every single time, I end up on the ground, against a tree, or standing perfectly still with a knife at my throat. And each time, Loki gives a cryptic word of advice.
"Keep your wrist straight."
"Always return to this position."
"Move faster."
"Never allow yourself to be backed into a corner or obstacle."
As we continue fighting, I try not to become agitated with myself. It seems that no matter what I do, Loki is expecting my next move and is already moving to block it before I can even complete it. I do my best to focus on his advice and put it to work for me, and while a few times that gives me a few extra seconds in an engagement, I ultimately end up losing each time.
Finally, Loki decides it's time for a break, and one of his men brings us water and two paper bags with food in them. Opening mine, I discover a huge hamburger and a large container of fries. Loki's has the same, and I can't help but smile at his confused look, despite my irritation with my lack of fighting skills. "That's a hamburger, and those are French fried potatoes," I explain before he can ask. "They're very good."
Loki doesn't look like he quite believes me.
I turn and walk to a nearby tree, sit down, and lean against it, sighing with relief when my taut muscles begin to relax. A moment later, Loki sits next to me against the tree, and we both dig in. I had no idea how hungry I was— my food disappears in a matter of minutes, and I guzzle almost the entire bottle of water. Looking over, I realize Loki is only halfway done, so I rest my head against the tree trunk, closing my eyes.
Once he is finished, he and I are at it again, sparring in quick engagements. But this time, he begins teaching me how to use my magic to my advantage during a fight. After a couple of demonstrations and several failures, I begin to understand what he is trying to teach me. Using my magic while trying to focus on proper posture, movements, and attacks during a fight is difficult, to say the least. But I'm slowly adapting and learning, and by the time the sun is low in the sky, I have to admit I'm pleased with my progress. However, I can't tell if Loki is. He frowned at me multiple times during the training session, but he never tells me whether he's upset or pleased. He just corrects my mistakes. The odd thing is that every time he frowned at me, he didn't say anything at all.
### ### ###
The ride back to Loki's headquarters is mostly uneventful. I'm very tired from the strain of using my magic and sparring for so long, but I do my best not to fall asleep. But since everything around me is so dark as a result of the well-tied blindfold across my eyes, I find it very hard not to. In fact, by the time we arrive back at HQ, I am so tired that I don't want to even move. One of Loki's men helps me out of the truck, and I am taken straight back to my room, much to my relief. I give myself a spit-bath, using a rag and water out of the sink in the tiny half-bath to scrub the dirt and grime off of my skin. Then I change into a pair of comfortable pajamas and collapse into bed, barely taking the time to put my Apple watch and iPhone on the charger. I fall asleep almost as soon as my head hits the pillow.
That night, nightmares haunt my sleep. At first, I'm surrounded by utter blackness—a deep, terrifying blackness that is trying to swallow me alive. I start to back away, my heart beating a wild rhythm in my chest, but I can't get away. I turn and start to run, but I keep stumbling and falling, tripping over things I can't see in the surrounding darkness. A sound like rushing water begins to fill my ears, roaring louder and louder as I try to outrun the darkness. The sound swells to an unbearable pitch, swirling all around me like the winds of a tornado, lifting me into the air and tossing me every which way. Fear swallows me whole, and I scream out my horror to the world.
As if in response, everything stops. No more wind, no more noise, everything is silent. I sit up from where I'm lying, looking around frantically, hoping for something, anything, to help me. Then, I see a glimmer of light in the distance. My heart begins beating wildly with hope, and I stand up, beginning to run towards the warm light. As I run, the light expands and grows brighter, illuminating my surroundings. I can see that I am near my uncle's home, running through the 15 acres of land straight towards the garage. The side door is open, and there is a beckoning light coming from inside the garage. The wind blows across my face, whipping up my hair behind me, and whispering to me. I can hear the voices of my mother and father calling me, my sister and brothers' voices swirling around me, comforting me and pulling me forward towards the open door of the garage. I follow them eagerly, approaching the door and stepping inside.
The garage is much larger than I remember, but my eyes are not focused on my surroundings, but rather on the buzzing, electrical door standing in the center. The door is partially open, and as I go closer, I can hear my family's voices more and more clearly. I continue stepping forward, getting closer and closer. I can see my family now, they are all standing just inside the door, all reaching out to me, calling me, begging me to join them. I reach out to them, beginning to run again, and finally reach the doorway. I reach out and grasp the doorhandle, closing my eyes as the voices of my family surround me and caress me, comforting my tears of joy. I'm coming! I try to call out, but something is tugging on my consciousness. Another voice.
I turn my head, listening. I recognize the voice, but the calls of my family and the sound of the wind swirling around me is drowning it out, and I can't understand it. Keeping one hand on the door handle, I turn around, straining to hear it. Squinting, I can barely make out the figure of a man running across the ground, straight towards me. He is waving his arms frantically, yelling something at me. He rushes inside the gigantic garage, which seems to have grown even larger than a moment ago, and suddenly stops. My own eyes widen in astonishment as I recognize the man. It's my uncle! His eyes are wide, and his face full of horror. He points behind me, and this time I can hear him perfectly clearly. "Look behind you!"
Suddenly, I feel something grab my forearm roughly. I spin around, and scream in fear. The light that had been emanating from inside the door is gone, and my family has disappeared. In their place is a dark abyss full of stars, and I can see an army of Chitauri in the distance. Loki is standing in front of me, his eyes glowing bright blue, gripping my forearm tightly. The scepter in his left hand is also glowing, illuminating his pale face and raven black hair in an eerie, ghastly light. He begins to pull me into the darkness, through the doorway. I scream again, pulling against him, but he is too strong. He jerks me through the doorway, and the door closes, cutting off the remnants of light from my world and leaving me surrounded by barely illuminated darkness. Loki looks into my eyes, and I freeze in horror. His eyes are empty. There is nothing there, no feeling, no soul.
"You can't get back."
His hollow words echo in my head, pounding the reality of my actions into my soul. I watch with horror as Loki's face morphs with that of the one and only Mad Titan. I shudder as he smiles cruelly down at me, and then he lifts his gauntleted left hand. I gasp as I realize what is about to happen. I look behind him, terrified to see my family standing there, just out of reach, smiling at me and waving, completely unaware of the danger they are in. I scream for them to run, to hide, anything to escape the consequences of Thanos's next action, but I'm too late to stop him, too late to change my actions, too late to save them...
Author's Note: Hi again! I'm having so much fun writing this, and I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter!
So what did you think? I apologize for the wait, but I have family in town right now so I'm having a difficult time keeping up.
Anyway, thank you so much for reading! I hope that I continue to make you as happy as you make me!
AuthorsDream, signing off.