I know none of you and I truly don't care about your pathetic mortal lives. Thor loves the lot of you and I cannot fathom why. He cherishes your love and friendship
above almost anything else and the reason still evades me. I'll tell you now that you have not won. You can prance around, your short lives so weak and dwindling
with each second you waste, and you can claim victory, but you all will always remember me, you sad little ragtag group of heroes. I will be the first villain you ever
took down, the first trophy in your glorious hall, and you will always recall the adrenaline that surged through your veins as I fell. I will haunt you, my ghost whispering words into your ears at night, and you will never be finished with me. Do you realize that the feeling you knew not too long ago, the euphoria that coursed
within you, is the same kind that I felt when I was younger, when I was still such an innocent adolescent with my tricks that were just that, tricks? Of course, my
veins are emptying now and it hurts to even think, but you all surround Thor with such closeness, like you're one big family, and the thought disgusts me. Once, a
long, long time ago, I would have smiled at my brother surrounded by mortals, but now I cannot even find it in me to frown. I used to be so…good, you know. My
outlook was one of hope and forgiveness and I never looked down on anyone, not even the monsters that unbeknownst to me were my ancestors. Thor, on the other
hand, hated anything that wasn't of Asgardian descent. He frowned upon the Vanir, or even the Elves of the Light Realm. Nothing and no one was good unless it lived
within the golden walls of Asgard. If I were still that same understanding, accepting person, I don't suppose I would be drawing my last breath right now. I wouldn't
even be here. I would be in Asgard, along with Thor, and I would stay oblivious to the lie of my life for all of eternity. But I have changed so much, have transformed
and twisted until my angles are all wrong, and the image of Thor inviting in mortals, loving a mortal woman, living within this mortal hell, it is all too much for me.
You all are lowly creatures, pathetic animals that should be put out of your misery before you hurt yourself further. Iron Man, since that's what you like to be called,
you are a smart one, a genius worth recognizing, but your witty remarks can sometimes bite off more than you could ever dream of chewing. You need to stay
watchful, always watchful, or that precious red headed woman of yours will be the first to go. I may be a dying enemy, but an enemy nonetheless, and I know how
they think. Clint, or Agent Barton, you were very useful to me. You helped everything along and I admired how quickly you turned on those closest to you. But in the
end, you were no better than the rest of them. Deep down, somewhere buried far within me, is a soul, or what's left of it, and from that soul comes a small apology
for how much I used you. Captain, how nice of you to look so worried all the time. It gives you a bad reputation among those who wish to harm you, so I suggest you
'buck up', as the mortals might say. Ah, now I am using their language, how disgusting of me. You need not dawdle in your past, for I have done that all my life and
look at where I am now. Bruce, what a monster you are. I do not think of you very kindly, for that beating you put on me was honestly a very painful one. But before
all of that, when your temper played right into my palms, was a time when I laughed at how easy it was to control you. But how I was wrong, for 'the other guy'
cannot be controlled, now can he? Natasha, such a poisonous spider, you are beautiful, I suppose, but it is not your exterior that intrigues me. It is the inner parts of
your mind, the deceit you carry on your shoulders, the lengths you'll go to just to finish a mission, and how easily you can read me. We are alike in many ways, Black
Widow, even though you all perceive me as a monster, and maybe I am. But I have wiped my ledger clean, so clean that it sparkles white, and we all know how much
blood trickles across yours. You are all so pathetic, the bunch of you packed together so tightly that you seem afraid to be pulled apart, and I do not look forward to
watching as you all fall, as he comes down from his heavenly hell and kills you all, makes you watch as your loved ones are taken from this world. You should sever
your connections while you still have the chance, while there are still connections to sever. Look at where it got Thor? He is sobbing so loudly that I can barely hear
myself think and I am so shaky, so frail beneath his grief stricken gaze, that I fear I may get sucked into those blue irises of his and never return. Oh, but do not
repeat this, you 'Avengers' of such high regards, or I will find a way to come back to this horrid realm and kill you all before Thanos even has a chance to think about
it. I fear. I know the rush of horror that has made a home within my heart, and now it is suffocating me. Thor fears, even though he may seem like the strongest of
oaks. I know my brother. I know how deep his love is, how hard his anger is, and how soft his heart is. So, I ask of you this one thing, and it is not that complicated
of a request. Look after the oaf. Watch out for him and make sure he's doing good in this mortal world, because I do not know how he will act if I'm not there to keep
him in check. Actually, I do. He will break all of the windows and smash all of your precious technology. He'll scream to the skies as rain beats down around him. He'll
summon his thunder and lighting and strike a building just to watch it burn. He'll sob into the cushions of your fancy furniture and hold onto all of you like a lifeline.
He'll cry himself to sleep and punch a hole through the bed because there are tear stains on his pillow. He will need you all, you homely team of comrades, and he will
need you for a while, so do not abandon him, you mortal creatures of survival, and I will die here, finally at peace with at least one thing that has happened in my
life. I will be content if he comes to terms with my demise because he is, after all, my brother. I am sworn to protect him and I will guard him from my memories, for
they will only drive him mad. No one will ever understand why I did what I did, no, I don't even know if I understand the insanity within me, but at least he'll finally
be free of the monkey on his back, the eyes always peering over his shoulder. So take care of him, thieves of his heart, because I still love him.
Please R&R. Thanks for reading! :)