The Impossible Mission (Avengers - [Loki] FanFic)

Chapter Seven - Nightmares

Chapter Seven - Nightmares

Ava's View

I followed Tony's instructions to his spare room and I soon came to a sleek black door, which easily pulled open. I entered the room and it was more lavish than my entire flat. The floor was like one huge black tile, chilling my feet through my black dolly shoes. There was a single bed in the centre, with sparkly black covers and three very plump pillows. The walls were a charcoal colour, with bits of silver here and there. It was great. There was a small remote on a sleek black table beside my bed. I picked it up and pressed the largest button on it. Then suddenly a projection appeared on the wall opposite the bed. I jumped at first, but that was before I realised it was actually a television. I shook my head in amazement and then switched the hologram tv off. 

I took a huge breath and threw myself onto the very cushioned bed beside me. I was in such a mess. 

1. Loki. I had no idea were he was. He had given me a magical bloody bracelet (Which I'd had to actually hit to stop it from galloping about in my palm) with some cryptic message; which I need to get around to solving. I hadn't completed my mission. I lost him. He almost kissed me. I danced with him. He cried with me. I lost my job over him. 

2. SHIELD. I'm definitely not off their radar, not with my abilities. They'll be keeping an eye on me. I don't have a job now either; SHIELD used to pay me a reasonable amount of money to help them out because my army pension just wasn't enough. Oh dear God...I have to job hunt now, don't I? I've tried that before, nobody will give me a job because of my history in the army and the fact that I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder once I came home. Brill.

3. My powers. Since when have my hands ever glowed red? Something is going on with me and I don't have a clue what. I just know it is somehow linked to Loki. 

Soon, all of my thoughts began to mix together and blend in with each other and eventually I found my eyes drooping and my body becoming limp with sleep. 

+*+*+* Flashback/Dream *+*+*+ (Contains Violence)

I was surrounded by military bases and people. People, my comrades, friends. Dust was flying everywhere, and everybody was squinting to keep it out of their eyes. The sun was strong, and was producing a blistering heat in this barren wasteland. Apart from us, our terrorist opposition and a few buzzards, there was very little life here. Explosions were regular and most of us had gotten used to the brief disorientation they caused. Beads of sweat were rolling down the majority of people's foreheads, one or two members of our force had fainted and been carted away to the makeshift hospital base. 

I held a huge rifle firmly in my hands, and had a badge embroidered into my khaki uniform to show I was in charge of my team. I began to shout at the top of my voice, straining to be heard over explosions around me. 

"I'll go in first. Then on my signal, you all follow," I yelled. We were all clad in camouflage khaki, protective uniforms. I ran at one of the bases on a mental count of three, I slammed myself in front of the door and carried on running. Suddenly, from outside I could hear desperate cries of my name as I ventured further into the base. It was just as hot in here as it was outside. The room I was in at the moment had two doors, no windows and very little light. I squinted to see my way through to the second door, foolishly ignoring the shouts from outside, that were eventually drowned out by exploding mines. 

I found the other door, and proceeded through it, two people clad in black clothing, with patterned scarfs tied around their mouths and neck. The opposition. They had tanned skin, dark hair and eyes. One was very tall, a lot taller than me, and looked as though he could do with a good meal. The other was short and stumpy, with a silly beard that didn't suit him. Both of them carried guns they couldn't manoeuvre properly; the stumpy one could barely lift his. Their black eyes glared at me as I faced them. As they were about to shoot, I used my gun to hit the the taller one in the stomach, with such force he buckled in pain, gripping his gut. The stumpy one couldn't see over the large rifle stuck in his hands, so I skipped to the back of him and whacked him over the head with the bottom of my own rifle. He dropped to the floor, dead or unconscious, I didn't particularly care.