You Want It Darker? (OC x Loki x Winter Soldier)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

 

"You should tread more carefully with your dear life, half-mortal child," an ethereal voice whispers through the wind.

"Where am I?" I blink but my vision stays dark, a cool air kissing my skin. I stretch out my arms to orientate myself but it's as if my body is floating in a pool of nothingness.

"Although your light shines bright, planewalker, anti-all's darkness will swallow you whole if purposed incorrectly," the soft voice continues.

"I- I don't know how," I stammer, fighting the gravity that pulls at my body.

"With time you find peace in the shattered pieces, Shadow. Do not let it consume you, but become the consumer."

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask in a desperate attempt to regain more answers.

"You are the connection between the waking and the sleeping, the chain between here and there, the key between living and dead," the gentle voice of the man riddles on, now barely but a whisper, floating around me as the darkness engulfs me. "Do not fret, as for I will wake over you from a far near distance. Forces beyond your comprehension are at play, and will soon make contact with your world. But for now..."

The voice falters for a moment, as if the volume button had been dialled down. I can feel two hands wrap around my floating body, a hand gently trailing my skin. I look around me and see my long locks of white hair growing, and form a sea of ghostly waves spread around me, entangling my bare body.

"For now, daughter of fetchlings, all I ask of you is to... Wake up."

***

In an instant my lungs flood themselves with air, my chest gasping for oxygen. Memories of what happened before I passed out come rushing back. The tesseract. Loki's brother. Caulson. The ichor energy. My eyes shoot open in panic. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn't Loki standing there, right in front of me, studying me with utter fascination. My face pulls into confusion and rage, anger saturating my emotions at the memories that are attached to the god of mischief.

"Ah, there she is," Loki purrs with a wide grin. "For a moment there I thought you'd died on me."

"I'm very much alive, none thanks to y-" I growl at him and without a warning launch my fist at his annoying pretty face. But- My punching hand stops midway, held perfectly in place. Completely shocked, I jerk my face to see what had stopped my attack. Utterly confused, my eyebrows stitch together when I see a green hue-like glow surrounds my wrists, as if cuffing my limbs onto the thin air surrounding them. Loki takes a quick step backwards and lets out a low chuckle.

"Careful there, darling," he gives me a condescending smile. "You might hurt yourself."

Feeling the strain on my body as I'm held in place, I take a short breath and look around in panic, searching for a way to escape. We seem to be in some kind of steel-reinforced bunker, filled with various technical and over-engineered machines, desks, and steel crates. Screens displaying military-grade information cover most of the walls, showing live feeds of a bustling city's streets, maps with red dots and markers, spreadsheets with images of familiar faces—those of the so-called superheroes who had captured me earlier—and a lot of other data I can't even begin to understand. My eyes dart to the few possible exits as I calculate how to break free from these wizard-made shackles and make my escape.

"I'd advise against that idea, little mortal," Loki tuts, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Even if - and I can reassure you, you can't , break free of my spell, every exit is carefully watched and secured by many of my wonderful mindless slaves. And they do not hesitate to act upon my will to keep you here."