Lady Sif {Thor}short stories

Trapped

Rewritten 22/9/2014

Based on the comics

I can hear them.

All of them.

Talking, walking, living, whilst I reside hither. Stuck within this weakened mortal form. I can smell all that she smells, taste all that she tastes, feel all that she feels. Never able to react. I do not wish to reside in her human flesh, nor do I wish to force her soul to share a home with mine.

She is old, she is dying, her time upon this Earth is running out hastily and there nought I can do to stop it.

I can do nought but lie hither, as she does, share her blood and her sustenance. Pray Thor shalt find me, restore me, allow me to live once more.

Alas his odds are stacked, my chances of rescue diminish with each visit of the vile trickster god. I know it to be him within the darkened locks and female stature he now dons; my locks, my form. I am forced to look at my own flesh but with his eyes. He taunts me, pities me, laughs at me. Forcing me to gaze into a mirror in which shows my true self. A self I want thus much to be free.

Why must he play such games? Why must he bring hurt unto me? To punish Thor? Or fulfil whatever despicable dream he has planned? Why must he hide me from whence I should be?

I know not. I can not talk. I can not breathe for myself. I am just...hither.

I do not exist, I am but a lost soul within a fleeting life. My fear mounting with each passing hour, with each ticking of the clock, beep of the machine beside me. Despite my cries unto Jane Foster to bring back Donald Blake, a mortal whom I know has Thor within him; despite my attempts to make Mrs Chamber's voice my own, it is all nay use.

I am alone..

Hopelessly lost...

Destined to perish with this mortal...