Chapter 9
Some people aren't gonna like this chapter. Because a certain sexy god becomes an unlikeable person.
ANDDDDD Agent Katherine Hill is a relative to Agent Maria Hill, and that will come into play very soon...
Right now this fanfic is just a bunch of chaos with people running around with guns, wands, and a lot of secrets. I hope you don't mind that.
Like a ghostly demon, Bellatrix Lestrange silently slithered through the backstreets of London with Evanesco hiding her from Muggle eye. Although it was still daylight (which she did not prefer to be exposed in), she had business to settle, and she was determined not to let it wait any longer. Twelve years was long enough to wait, and it drove her desperation and crazed anger in her blazing heart.
Her untamable hair was hidden under a blacker-than-black cloak, and her wand was secure in her white hands. Bellatrix wore her distinctive outfit with her goth-like dress and high-heeled boots.
She knew who she wanted. And with days of tracking, she knew exactly where he was. And before long, she reached her destination. A worn, down wooden building that seemed to be rotting before her eyes. It seemed abondoned; she knew better. With careful steps, she reached the front door and placed her ear to it.
Through the solid door, Bellatrix could hear the voice. His voice. An evil smile overtook her expression, and she allowed herself a low cackle.
It was time to do what she did best.
Revenge.
"I can't get the suit to work. Guys, we're sorta stuck here," Tony's voice crackled on the radio Captain Rogers was holding. Standing outside the now ruined warehouse, four out of the six Avengers were desperately trying to agree on a plan.
"We'll just have to continue on without you. Thor, any way to track their where-abouts?" Steve loaded a gun.
"If thine brother has enchanted his location with dark magic, only an exceptional few would be able to break his spells," explained the thunder god.
"Then I need you to become one of those exceptional few in the next ten seconds," Cap responded with a hard tone. He was becoming desperate.
"We need to try to get contact restored with headquarters," Clint checked on his arrows. The Black Widow nodded in agreement.
"Screw S.H.I.E.L.D." Tony muttered, which was hard to decipher.
"We need to act now if we want a chance. We've delt with Loki before. Think. What will his plays be? Last time he wanted an Army behind his back before he took on all of his. I'm guessing there won't be much difference this time. Except who could he contact that would come willingly and is powerful enough to stand us up? Thor, any ideas?"
"I contain no-"
"Damn, I've got something," Natasha pointed to an abruptly-ending set of footsteps.
"Let's start that way," Steve strided past them, and the others followed.
"Sir, absolutely none of any electronics we've tried are working. We've...we've lost power!" Agent Maria Hill yelled to Director Fury in the computer room of the helicarrier. "We've lost all power to the engines!" she glanced up at Fury, and her silent expression spoke four dreadful words: This. Is. The. End.
That was all the Director needed to hear. His last hope was to manually switch the power. Words from Loki filled his mind as he ran, his heart pounding in his throat...
"Your heroes are scattered, your floating fortress falls from the sky. Where is my disadvantage?"
Harry awoke with a splitting headache and the inability to move. When he opened his eyes he realized he was chained to a chair with what looked like gold-titanium alloy shackles. His blurred vision cleared, and he realized he was in an old wooden building that had old oak furniture that seemed to be rotting and falling apart. Across the room, Agents Hill and Coulson had the same problem except they both had some metal pieces over their mouth so they couldn't speak. And unlike Harry, they had dried blood around their temples. Coulson was also coming to, but Katheryn was still out cold.
He didn't have any memory of what could of happened. He concentrated hard, and a quick flashback filled his mind, and he recalled for a brief moment being locked in a pitch-black cellar. Coulson's eyes widened and he was also trying to yell something at Harry, but his voice was muffled. Even so, Harry got the message: behind you!
Harry turned his head to see a tall, black-haired man, in a gold and green leather armor and a scepter with a glowing blue light. He recognized the face vaguely from when he watched news on the telly, as Loki, God of Mischief, of Asguard.
"Do you know who I am?" Loki hissed, striding in front of Harry.
"You're," he glanced towards Coulson. "A bastard."
"Say my name."
Harry stared at the floor, his lips sealed. He was determind not to give this man what he wanted.
"I see the Son of Coul taught you well. But I bet he didn't teach you one thing," Loki put his hand on Harry's chest. The young wizard tried to twist away, yet he was no match for the god's unbreakable grasp. "Listen to that. A heart, a mortal heart."
Still avoiding eye-contact, Harry's eyesight darted to the windows, floor, and back again. With Loki's hand pressing onto his lungs, it was becoming difficult to breathe, but he made sure not to reveal this weakness.
After a minute, Loki stood up and began to stride the room.
"Tell me, Harry Lokison, what is like to have a Asguardian god for a father?"
"What?"