My Asgardian (2)

Chapter 18

(Y/n's POV)

Warm blood trickles down from my nose, and I sag against the chair with exertion.

"Please..... I can't do it."

"Yes you can. I know you can," List paces back and forth behind me, waiting. "You have to focus."

"We've been at this for hours, can't I take a break."

"You will take a break once you've earned a break. I've so far seemed nothing worthy of praise therefore there's nothing to take a break from. Now, try again."

I glare at the object in front of me, hatred in my eyes. I don't even know what it is, some sort of machine, probably a weapon of some sort, but it needs power. My power. He wants me to channel my energy from my body and into the machine.

"If you would just let me-"

"No! You will not touch the machine. You can do it from here."

I don't understand how to do what he's asking of me. He wants me to power this machine up with electricity.... without touching it. So what? He wants me to fire my power at it? Like shooting a gun?

It's not even from here. You can tell just by looking at it that this is some form of alien technology.

"How do you know my power won't just break it."

"I think it's safe to say that I am well informed of this piece of equipment and I know what it needs to function. Now stop stalling and try again."

I sigh, then push myself up in my seat, and grip the arm rests tightly as I concentrate.

I can feel my power circulating through my body, giving me a familiar tingle all over me. I try to concentrate the power and focus it solely on my right hand, until there's the well-known crackle of sparks between my finger tips.

"That's it," he says quietly from behind me. "Now do it."

I wipe my nose furiously with the sleeve of my left arm, probably smearing blood across my cheek, and I try to envisage a ball of electricity leaving my hand and connecting with the machine. I try to imagine what it looks like, what it sounds like, how it feels. I picture it as being  more like a bolt of lighting rather than a ball, and it's white with a few blue streaks, there's a comforting snapping sound, and it feels almost fizzy.

"Do it!"

"Argh!" I throw my arm forwards, and a streak of white light shoots out of my fingertips and fires through the air.

I completely miss the machine.

Blood is now streaming from my nose and I barely have the strength to keep my eyes open.

"Good," he says quietly and walks around to face me. "Very good. You may rest, and we will try again later to fix your aim."

List waves over a guard, and he gently picks me up into his arms and carries me back to my room.

I say my room.

It's a cell.

There's no window apart from the small square window on the door, there's a dim light swinging from the ceiling, and there's a flat mattress with a depressing-looking blanket.

Compared to the punishment room, this is a sanctuary.

I awaken only to wish I'd remained asleep. There's no natural light in my cell, just the unnatural orange glow from the barrier and from the torches in the corridor. The cell opposite mine lies empty, so I have no company. No-one to talk to. I know there's a guard somewhere out there, but he'll be on strict orders not to communicate with anyone down here.

I shouldn't even be here. And I have no way of getting out. I'd realised that I still had the prototype teleportation device from Shield, but every time I've used my power it's also been charging the machine, and now it's overpowered and completely fried. I have no way of getting it to work again.

I might actually die in here.

This has just shown me that I really can't trust anyone.

Not anyone at Hydra, not anyone in Asgard, not the Avengers, not Loki.

I only have myself.

I'll only ever have myself.