ＲＥＤＥＭＰＴＩＯＮ {TONY STARK'S LITTLE SISTER FAN-FICTION}

8. ZEBEDIAH KILLGRAVE 2

Elizabeth didn't know what time it was. The power outage caused by the storm outside had plunged the room into pitch darkness, the faint light from the window barely illuminating the outlines of furniture. Rain hammered relentlessly against the glass, accompanied by the occasional rumble of thunder that shook the silence.

She lay on her side of the bed, staring at the faint silhouette of Bucky as he slept soundly beside her. His breathing was deep and even, the peaceful rise and fall of his chest oddly unnerving.

Too peacefully for her liking.

Her mind was a whirlwind of doubts and unanswered questions. The weight of the flash drives pressed down on her like a physical force, each one a reminder of the secrets she hadn't yet shared. Did Bucky suspect anything? Could he see through the carefully constructed facade she'd maintained?

She turned onto her back, her fingers absently brushing against the soft fabric of her pajama top. The silk felt cool against her skin, but it did little to soothe the storm inside her. She stared at the ceiling, her thoughts spiraling further, dragging her into darker corners of her mind.

"You feel scared," a voice whispered, low and mocking.

Her heart leapt into her throat, the blood in her veins turning cold. She bolted upright, her breath hitching as her eyes darted around the room.

"You should," the voice continued, smooth and venomous, sending a chill racing down her spine. "I put something in his drink that would make him sleep like a baby."

Elizabeth's hand instinctively moved to Bucky's arm, shaking him gently. He didn't stir. His breathing remained slow, steady, and impossibly deep.

"Who's there?" she demanded, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound brave.

The moment the words left her lips, she regretted them. The warning bells of every horror movie she'd ever seen blared in her mind, and she cursed herself for falling into the cliché.

And then, he stepped out of the shadows.

Zebediah Killgrave.

Her breath caught as his figure emerged from the darkness, bathed in the faint silver light from the window. His skin was a sickly shade of purple, gleaming unnaturally. His tailored suit, his perfectly styled hair, even the shimmer in his cold, calculating eyes—all an unsettling monochrome of purple.

Elizabeth's stomach churned as her gaze locked onto his. The grotesque symphony of color wasn't what scared her most—it was the way he moved. Calm. Controlled. Confident.

"Oh, Betty," he drawled, his voice dripping with malice as a twisted smile curled his lips. "I think it's time we got to know each other."

Her muscles tensed as she sat frozen on the bed. Her mind raced for a plan, a way to outmaneuver him, but every option felt futile. His mere presence radiated a terrifying certainty, as if he already knew how this encounter would play out.

"What do you want?" she asked, forcing the words out despite the pounding in her chest. Her voice was steadier now, but she couldn't hide the edge of fear that crept in.

Killgrave chuckled, the sound low and menacing, sending another shiver down her spine. "Oh, so many things," he said smoothly, stepping closer. "But for now, let's start with a little... conversation."

Elizabeth's gaze flicked to Bucky. He was still lying motionless beside her, his face peaceful, his body unresponsive. Panic clawed at her chest.

"Don't worry about your knight in shining armor," Killgrave sneered, following her gaze. "He's going to be out for a while. Long enough for us to... chat."