Rosalie Kasten is out of luck and out of time. For the last two years, she's been living on borrowed time. After her involvement with the death of Edwin Pierce - Alexander Pierce's son - it's only a matter of time before Hydra comes for her.
James...
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« 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒚-𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆: 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔 »
𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 remember much of that October. When you spend as much time as I do wandering, it all eventually begins flowing together. A grand river of humanity and souls. What I do recall, is how often I waded through the overcrowded streets of New York. I picked up the same unfortunate souls who the system had given up on long ago. The stragglers or travellers, escapees or detainees.
I often found myself in the company of people leading to other people and soon, I realised the tracks I was following. By trying to focus on the lights I rarely note who are around, much less what they are wearing, but it became impossible to avoid. The bloodred symbol of Hydra stood out against the snowing streets. I knew I had to follow the man. There were others to pick up. He wasn't done.
I find myself in front of a large hotel with glowing emerald letters. The man walks inside without a care for the security trying to stop him. They become two more drops in the river, and I carry them with me. The man continues towards the desk where only one man in uniform stands, cold face and not fazed by the death of two colleagues.
"What can I do for you, sir?" The man with brown hair and green eyes asks. The bulking figure I had followed gives a laugh, showing off the elongated canines, and he runs his elongated claw-like nails through the blond mane of long hair.
"I'm here for Loki," Victor Creed growls and licks his teeth.
"Mr Laufeyson is unavailable for the time being," the man with brown hair speaks calmly.
"I don't think so, kid," he snarls.
In one large leap, he is across the counter and his claws sink into the side of the man's throat. Blood spills onto the mirror-like flooring and Creed laughs as he watches the life leave the man's eyes. Creed always made sure it took long for them to take their last breath. He is the type of man to savour the moment.
I am left to wait. It is far from interesting to me. I watch in silence as another man enters the room in a strut. I know only one is supposed to be picked up and Creed is in no hurry. He stands with the body, claws still lodged in the man's neck as he gags on his own blood.
"Easy now, tiger," Loki hoarsely chuckles while his security men stand ready at his sides.
"Just the man I was looking for," Creed says and slides his tongue over his fangs.
"Darling, you should have just given me a call," Loki grins and turns his chin upwards.
"No fun in that," Victor growls, "I'm looking for Rosalie Kasten. Where is she?"
"You're a few days late. Afraid to say she's left already, Victor, and I would appreciate if you did the same," Loki eloquently enunciates.
