•Chapter Twenty-Five•
Plotting and Apologizes
(UNKNOWN LOCATION)
REWRITTEN
UNKNOWN P.O.V
The massive house was silent. Not a single noise broke the stagnant air filling the abandoned building. Deadly blades of ice hung from the roof and shards of broken glass were the only remains of giant windows. It was a decaying ghost among the frigid, colorless field that it called home.
Life, though, managed to strive in this barren structure—or to be more accurate—beneath.
Several feet underneath the dying mansion, was a series of hundreds of tunnels stretching out for miles in every direction away from the house. The pathways were dark and cold, housing the darkest of evil.
And there, stalking through the inky veil, was a woman.
She was tall and adorn in a dark velvet green dress. Her heels clicked along the stone walkway, echoing through the silence. A wicked smile rested on her lips.
The woman approached a break in her path. The tunnel split into two and there awaited two figures. One taller then her and the other shorter, but both radiated the same aura of evil.
"Enchantress," the shorter figure hissed. His voice was gravelly and sounded pain, though no pain afflicted the small being. The woman stopped short, her hands coming to rest on her hips.
"Yes?" She pursed, her emerald eyes skipping past the shorter figure and landing directly on the first figure.
"Rid yourself of that illusion." He demanded.
The woman cocked her head, "of course."
Within the next second, a light green light surrounded her. Her brunette waves began to lengthen and lighten until her hair was no longer the color of dirt and instead was golden. She grew nearly two inches taller and by the time the light surrounding her dissipated, her attire had changed.
"Better?" The woman chirped—her voice, it seemed, had changed as well. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"The child," the taller figure demanded impatiently, "is she within the realm?"
"Yes, the wretched thing is in Asgard. So is her brother." The woman drawled out, disgust in her voice. She shifted her weight.
"Loki, I must add, is injured. Thanks to the Chituari you sent." Her tone became darker.
"Do you have problem with this?" The shorter figure teased and the woman's gaze whipped to his. A flutter of panic shot through her otherwise collect façade.
"No." She growled, her nails digging into her hips.
"Vanquish those nostalgic thoughts. The God of Mischief will pay for what he has done." The taller figure warned, the woman's gaze darkened.
"As you wish, Thanos." The woman lowed her head. The tunnels suddenly grew silent again. A third figure slinked out of the darkness.
This one—the most human looking of the three figures—had long, almost black hair and the tips of his ears were drawled back and pointed. His eyes were unnaturally blue.
YOU ARE READING
Soror (Loki's Sister)
Fanfiction[Formally known as Loki's Sister-Book One of the Soror series] "You insolent ch-" His scolding was cut off by my fist. My fist connected with his cheek before I realized what I had done. Loki fumbled back, cradling his face with his hands. He was...
