Stark Struck | The Avengers

Chapter VII: Shadows

Chapter Seven

~Third Person POV~

        Shadows dance across the walls. They leaped and hid as their owners walked in front of them. The head figure walked with a stride so proud and ruthless. His face was stuck in a cold stare, focused on the objects in front of him as he walked. The two walked slow. The second figure was much smaller in height, and much smaller in revenge.

        The first figure, with his golden, horned helmet resting on his head, clenched his fist in hatred for those who struck him down a month or so ago. His stride quickened until he was in front of them all. Symbols of his enemies and/or targets. There was seven symbols; a target like symbol for the hawk. The symbol of the black widow spider. A mask of iron. A blue mask with wings and an 'A.' An eye-patch. A green figure. And a smaller version of an Asgardian's hammer.

        The man's golden helmet disappeared, and his hands rested on the table. He took long stares at each of the symbols, each with different levels of hatred. His eyebrows took a turn downwards and his teeth were clenched. With a swift turn of his raised wrist, he quickly -and angrily- knocked all them off the table. The second figure, stepped back in alarm, it showed in her eyes, too.

        The man rested his hand back on the table, and breathed in short breaths. Sweat started to form and drip off his face. The man turned half-way and looked down, "They'll kneel. In the end, they'll always kneel." He whispered in shaky breaths.

        "What?" the woman questioned in a whisper.

        "Kneel," he whispered, very serious, she didn't hear him. "KNEEL!" he shouted at her outraged. The woman's breath became quick and sharp. She slowly lowered down to the ground in a kneeling position.

        The man circled the woman as she knelt in behalf of him. His face was filled with disgust and anger, his scepter appeared in his hand, the woman tried not to shake in fear. "You mortals and your emotions..." he spat at her, "it's sickening."

        He stopped circling her. "What is your greatest wish?"

        The woman stopped shaking. "E-Excuse me?"

        "Your greatest wish, your heart's desire." He stared at her while he spoke.

        The woman glanced at the large window in front of her.

        "Freedom?" He asked grinning.

        She nodded slowly.

        "And your greatest fear?"

        After a few seconds of silence, she responded. "D-Dieing, Sir."

        "Well I can make both of those come true," his grin turned into a sinister smile. "Stand."

        The woman slowly rose. The man took several steps back and raised his scepter. His hand jerked back as blue tesseract essence shot out from his scepter and hit the woman. Her dead, limp body flew forward and broke the glass from the window, she hurtled towards the ground.

        The man turned without giving a second glance, he whispered, "I will have my rightful place. Ruling all mortals, Midgard, and Asgard, for I am Loki... of Jotunheim."

        Loki rose his hand, clenching it into a fist, and I will have you, my dear Alex Heart.

***

        "So Loki's as crazy as a bag of cats?" I asked.

        "As Bruce refers to him as, yeah." Tony replied. I nodded back, smiling.

        "Okay, and so what's up with Loki anyways? Why is he attacking Earth?" I said, resting my folded arms on the table in front of me.

        "Still haven't figured that out, last time was 'cause he wanted power, this could be the same this time. But for the possible best answer, ask his brother, Shakespeare."

        "Where can I find him, then?" I was oblivious that he called him Shakespeare.

        Tony smiled smugly. "Asgard."

        "Where's that? North Carolina? Europe?"

        He chuckled. "It's a planet, Alex."

        I sighed, "Oh, well, then. Never mind." I leaned back in the cafe chair I was sitting in. "So answer my first question, what's up with Loki? Why is the way he is? Why's he so mental?"

        "I have no idea, honestly, and I know quite a lot."

        There was a long silence, I never responded. Was Loki scarred when he was young? If he ever was young, since he's a god? That could've caused him to be like this?

         Maybe past all the metal and leather, Loki actually was a good person...

        That thought continued to haunt me all through the rest of the day, and the night.