Chapter 14

The stench of the Past

NOTES:

Hi everyone,

First of all, thank you so so much for showing your support by giving reviews and subscribing on this story! It really means a lot to me!

At long last, finally, another for Sing me one last Song.
Sorry for taking so long, the little free time that I have is mostly spend on writing for my other story but now that I'm off work for a couple of days, I can finally put some more time in this one again,

Anyway, without further ado, here's chapter 14; The Stench of the Past


Frigga and Natasha waited patiently outside for Clint and Loki to carry the sleeping god of thunder into the ship.

'There,' Clint said with a huff as he laid the blond down on one of the ship's couches, 'ready to go?' He asked, looking at the trickster.

'Yes, it looks like he will be asleep for quite some time,' the raven said, leaning over his older brother, a feeling of melancholy hitting him as he watched the blonde's tranquil and seemingly carefree expression. 'we should hurry nonetheless, Thor needs help and I do not wish to keep any of you here longer than necessary.'

'Yeah, agreed,' Clint nodded and the two walked back outside.

'Is he still asleep?' Frigga asked her son as she carefully brushed some dirt from his face with her hand.

'Yes mother,' Loki managed to smile a little at his mother's ever existing caring, 'he is inside, asleep, and so should you.' He held her hand. 'The birdman, I mean, Hawkeye and Lady Widow will accompany me back into the hideout. They will help me in search for any form of information. You should stay here with Thor and rest.'

'No,' Frigga stated clearly, 'if anything were to happen,'

'then I am in the hands of good company.' Loki interrupted her, looking at his fellow Avengers, a careful smile on his face.

'He sure is.' Clint gave a reassuring smile, resting a hand on Loki's shoulder. 'Now, let's go, we're in a hurry, right?'

Frigga squinted her eyes for a second and then let out a sigh. 'Fine,' she looked at the trio, a warm wave of contentment washing over her heart as she saw her youngest son, her winter child surrounded by people he seemed to accept, or even more so, to trust. 'but if anything were to go wrong,'

'Yes, mother,' Loki reacted with a sigh, though trying his best to stay respectful. 'we will inform you right away, can we go now? Please?' He asked, not feeling so much like a child in a long time. A twitch of irritation appeared in his countenance as he heard Natasha and Clint snigger softly.

Frigga smiled and rolled her eyes. 'Yes, go, be safe, my love,' she placed a soft kiss on the trickster's cheek, waved them goodbye and entered the ship. She sat on her knees on the cold floor, next to the sleeping god of thunder and held his hand in hers. 'my dearest summer child,' she whispered, carefully brushing a lock of golden hair from his face. 'you will be alright, I promise.' She placed a gentle kiss on his temple, her thumb softly caressing his hand, watching over her oldest child like a lioness protecting her cub.


'God, it smells in here.' Clint complained, covering his nose and mouth with one hand.

'Putrefaction,' Loki said, his eyes squinting as he, to, found it hard to ignore the horrible stench that seemed to increase as they went deeper down the hideout. It lingered through the many hallways and chambers, nearly making him heave bile.

'The more reason to work fast and get out of here.' Natasha said though her determined voice got interrupted by a loud cough.

The three had made their way deep into the secret hideout that was Thor's prison for almost two weeks. It consisted mostly of long hallways, leading to deserted and empty chambers, and staircases that led them down even deeper.

'Pu-what now?' Clint asked, couching again.

'It is the smell of decay and rotting of a body or other organic matter.' Loki said as they stood for another door. 'I agree with Lady Widow, it is best to work fast, these gases cannot be good for us.' He slowly opened the door, clenching his teeth a little as it made a high-pitched screech.

The overwhelming stench that hit them made the trickster's eyes tear, he took a small step back and couched loudly. He heard gagging sounds coming from both Barton and Natasha and he saw the archer grab his stomach with one hand and covering his mouth with the other from the corner of his eye.

'This can't be right,' Natasha spoke, the back of her hand against her lips. 'this place hasn't been used for over a hundred years, right?'

'Yeah, so?' Clint asked, leaning against a wall as the insufferable stench made his world spin.

'So, there should be nothing left here to decompose,' Loki added as he took a determent yet reluctant first step into the dim lighted chamber. 'human remains take approximately ten years to decay,'

'So whatever it is that lays here,' Clint added as he followed the trickster, not even wanting to think of what they could possibly find.

'Sleeping quarters?' Natasha asked in surprise as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighted room. The three stood still, their eyes scanning their surroundings. The chamber was filled with ten beds, all with a nightstand and small storage box. It was damp and cold, no signs of life to be seen except for some scattering cockroaches.

'Must be,' Clint responded as he was the first to take a few more steps forward.

'This place used to be a fortress, the Vanir used it in their war against the Æsir. This must be where the soldiers slept.' Loki explained, scanning the dark room with a keen eye. 'We should continue with care, these chambers are hardly ever without deceptions.' He continued in a whisper.

Clint walked towards one of the beds, noticing a framed picture standing on a nightstand. He picked it up, dusting it with the back of his hand, careful not to break the fragile glass. It was a small painting, a portrait of a man together with what seemed like his wife and late teenage son.

A faint sigh left the archer's lips as he wondered who was send off into this war. He placed the portrait back on the nightstand, his gaze then caught by the bed next to it. His eyes widened and he took a few quick steps back. 'You guys, we might have a situation here.' He whispered as soft as he could, his wide-open eyes still locked on the bed.

Natasha looked at the archer, wondering when it was the last time that she saw the man reacting like this. She followed his gaze and froze, thinking her eyes must be deceiving her.

'They're still here…?' she whispered softly as she saw a man sleeping in one of the beds.

'Impossible,' Loki uttered as he quickly moved to Clint's side, his trusted silver dagger in hand.

There, underneath the old and dusty blankets, laid a soldier, resting. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted and his chest gently heaving with the rhythm of his breathing. 'It cannot be…' Loki whispered, more to himself than to his fellow Avengers.

Natasha took out a small flashlight which she had installed in the belt underneath her Vanir clothing. She turned it on, lighting the room with care. 'All these beds,' she whispered, slowly walking past them, 'they are all occupied.' She carefully studied every piece of furniture, staring at the sleeping men within. 'what should we do?' she looked up at Loki, their emerald eyes meeting.

'We kill them,' Clint spoke in a firm whisper, pulling a combat knife from a belt strapped to his thigh.

'Agreed,' Loki nodded, 'we leave one survivor, take him hostage and see what he will tell us, as for the others,' he scanned the beds, the soldiers sleeping without sound. He then squinted his eyes a little.

'Fine,' Natasha agreed, she walked towards the archer, reaching down his leg as Loki watched with furrowed brows in surprise. 'What?' Natasha remarked as she pulled a combat knife from one of Clint's straps. 'A gun would make way too much noise.' She walked towards one of the beds, leaving the two man to awkwardly stare at each other for a moment before they, to, let their weapons hover over the throats of their sleeping victims.

'So far for asking,' Clint said, to which Loki nodded in agreement.

The trickster placed his silver dagger against the soldier's throat, knowing exactly where to stab for a painless, but most of all soundless, kill. He then shifted his attention to the man's shoulder where a piece of string seemed to stick out from underneath the blankets.

Knowing they should make haste and knowing this was not the time give in to his curiosity, Loki cursed at himself as his hands already started to move to the brim of the blanket and he pulled it down a little.

His eyes narrowed even further as he tried to prosses what he had found. It was not a piece of rope that he uncovered but the tail of a large rodent-like creature. Loki could tell from its pose that it had died quite some time ago, though its decomposing body was somehow… off. Its entire body was still covered in a filthy dark-brown coat except for its head. Loki studied the creature, noticing now that its eyes were rotting away in their eye sockets, the fur and tissue surrounding its mouth gone, showing the white skull underneath as it laid close against the shoulder of the soldier. Furrowing his brows, he then looked at the man, his eyes then widening as he saw that the flesh of his shoulder was covered in bite marks, leaving a small but horribly stinking wound.

Then, it dawned to him, his eyes growing wide in realization.

These men were not asleep. No, they had died long ago, their soulless bodies placed under a spell, tricking their opponents into a final trap, taking them to their grave along with themselves. The enemies would, just like the trio, try to kill them in their sleep, leaving a deadly gas the moment their skin would be breached.

'Okay, ready?' the raven heard Natasha whisper.

'ready,' Clint responded.

'No! wait!' Loki screamed, but it was too late. Like identical twins, the Widow and archer moved and pierced through the flesh of their victims, or rather, aggressors.

The two bodies immediately started to rot, their flesh slowly dripping off their bones and falling to the ground as they light up in a green mist. The Seiðr spell that was placed over these ancient bodies finally revealed the trap that was hidden in plain sight.

'What the-?!' Clint screamed as he dropped his knife, covering his mouth again as the room started to fill with the poisonous air.

'OUT! NOW!' Loki screamed. He grabbed Natasha's hand, pulling her close as she nearly fainted. 'Archer!' He coughed, waiting for the man to follow him.

The three ran down the hallways as fast as their tired legs could carry them, the poisonous cloud only a couple of feet behind them, haunting them down like a restless ghost.

'Eenie, meenie, miny, mo, grab a Trickster by his toes.'

Loki suddenly heard a voice echoing through the halls, he looked back, nearly tripping over his own feet.

'hold him tight, and if he screams, do not let him go,'

'What are you doing, kid?!' Clint said, giving the raven a hard push against his shoulder to make him look forward again. 'Just run, you idiot!'

'Did you not hear that?!' Loki asked while panting.

'The only thing I hear is the sound of certain death, now go!' Natasha hissed as she kept running, tugging at Loki's wrist.

'From hazard you escape, remaining without clue,'

Loki then stopped his movement completely and turned around. The voice, whoever it belonged to, came from behind him, form behind the poisonous cloud.

'Loki!' Natasha screamed. 'Have you lost your mind?!'

'flee and hide, still, I will take the next in queue,'

The next in queue… The one calling him, the one making his head spin with echoing words was the one they were searching for, the one that caused all their pain and suffering, it had to be!

At this, the raven squinted his eyes and gritted his teeth, his hands balled into tight fists. His heart racing, driving his adrenaline stirred blood through his body with tremendous force.

Taking one step at a time, his body started to move further down the hallway. His first steps slow and uncertain, then, they became firmer and Loki quickly found himself running back, his body driven by pure anger.

'Running round, the shadow of death following you, to your fate it is bound,'

He heard the voice echoing inside his head.

Natasha and Clint screamed at the trickster, trying to grab him and pull him back but Loki was too fast. They watched and cursed as the raven disappeared from sight.

'Broken, haunted and unwanted, you are unworthy of the throne.'

Loki absentmindedly followed the voice, his body moving on its own, blinded by the thick mist of poison.

'causing pain, suffering and misfortune, are you not better off alone?'

His head was spinning, his fingers tingling as if being stabbed by thousands of needles.

'it is answers you seek, and answers you just might find'

The trickster walked down the long hallway till he came across another staircase. He looked down but saw nothing for it was as dark as a starless night. Like staring straight into an abyss.

'Though a word of caution for bonds, love and sanity are what you will leave behind,'

He should not go down the stairs for it was most likely a trap.

That he knew.

He should go back to his friends, to his mother who would go sick with worry if she would see only the archer and the Widow return.

That he knew.

He should go down these ominous stairs if he wanted to find the answers to his questions.

Of this, he was certain.

'In solitude and lonesome, near no accustomed hand,'

'walk these stairs for answers, oh worthless peasant of this land.'

Doing as the voice told him to, Loki's body moved down the stairs in involuntarily steps though without resistance.

He eventually found himself in what seemed like an open space, the last sentences ringing through his mind.

'Oh Trickster Death, your delusions are done'

'Oh Liesmith Death, your deceives will not go on,'

'Oh Mischievous Death, your existence is gone'

The two large torches hanging from the stone wall were not nearly enough to light the room, let alone warm it. It was cold, the thin air combined with deafening silence made him shiver. He looked up, finally seeming to regain control over his mind though feeling like he never really lost it in the first place.

His tired eyes widened, the sound of nothingness gone as the sound of his heartbeat drummed through his body.

There, standing in front of him, was a man.

A man with white straight hair, shoulder length.

A man with cold, dark brown eyes, peering straight at him.

A man who was taller than him, though their frames were quite the same.

A man who reminded the trickster of the dark elves of Svartalfheim, if it were not for the fact that he would be missing the pointy ears.

'I welcome you, oh Æsir god of Mischief and Lies, cast-out of the Jötunn and Death-bringer to Midgard,'

A violent shiver ran down the trickster's spine as he softly trembled in pure rage, hardly able to keep his Seiðr under control as the man in front of him opened his arms in a welcoming gesture.

'It is such an honor to finally speak with you, again.'


NOTES:

And that's it for another chapter, please let me know what you think in the comments below,
Thanks again, and until next time!