My hands hurt. Why did they hurt? I faded into the waking world reluctantly. Drowsiness clung to my still-half-asleep thoughts, urging me to catch a couple more minutes. I rolled my head to the side and yawned, stubbornly refusing to open my eyes. A sheen of sweat dampened my skin, and as a faint wisp of air lifted a lock of hair that draped over my face, I shivered. Cracking open my eyes, I reached for my worn blue comforter and noticed with detached emotion that there was no comforter to reach for. And this didn't feel like my bed, it felt like a chair. A rickety, splintery chair with no regards for people that just want to sleep. Annoyed, I finally cracked open my heavy eyes, and lifted my chin from my chest. Oh, I sleepily observed. I'm not in my bed.
Wait. What?
My eyes shot fully open, and my heart jumped in my chest as I remembered the events of the gala. That medieval Professor Snape kidnapped me! I thought indignantly as I fought back the horrible ball of cold fear in my chest. I looked around me, disoriented, and surmised that my sleep-muddled thoughts were true. I was not, in fact, lying in my bed.
I was in a small, windowless room with concrete walls and floor. I looked around the dimly lit room, straining to make out the features around me with my heart speeding up all the while. A single door made only of bars was set into the left corner of the wall I was facing. It was completely empty besides me, reminding me of a prison cell. The only light came through the barred door, presumably coming from a light source outside. I was situated in an old, wooden chair in the center of the stone room. My legs were tied to the chair's legs, my torso to its back. When I craned my neck, I could tell that the reason my wrists were sore was because they were tied behind my back. I yanked my hands against the ropes, attempting to free myself, but only succeeded in making the soreness worse. I began to hyperventilate. What's going on? Where did that witch take me? I struggled against the rough rope, working myself into a frenzy.
Abruptly, I froze. An idea came to me, and I glanced around to confirm that there was nothing behind me before I began flinging my body forward and backward, attempting to tip the chair over. Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking. I've obviously seen way too many spy movies. The chair teetered on its two back legs before falling backward. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced for impact.
Thud.
Wow, that was a terrible idea, I thought blearily.
Suddenly, I heard heavy footsteps approaching from the hallway. Keys jangled in a lock, and I heard the door to my little room swing open with a creeeaaakk. I twisted my head until my neck hurt, trying to get a glimpse of the newcomer, but they picked me up before I could. They grabbed the chair by the knobs at the top of the back, and pulled it upright. I swiveled my head to look at them.
The newcomer was a man with unnatural electric-blue eyes that almost seemed to be glowing in the dim light. He had close-cropped brown hair and a face that seemed to be in a perpetual scowl. A fancy-looking bow was strapped to his back, and an equally fancy-looking quiver of arrows was slung over his shoulder. His face was expressionless, his freaky blue eyes scarily void of emotion.
I stared at him. "Uh, thanks," I said uncertainly.
Without responding, he turned and marched out the door like a soldier that had been called to duty. I stared after him, furrowing my brow in confusion. Well, that was weird. Oh, who am I kidding. This entire situation is really freaky! I've been kidnapped by some gold magic wizard dude with a big stick, and this freaking robot over here just pulled me up and left!
I forced myself to take a deep breath, and slowly, the panic compressed into a tight ball that I shoved way down in my stomach where I wouldn't have to deal with it until after this situation had passed. Panicking doesn't help, Beth. Do five things you see. I remembered a tactic my therapist had taught me back when my anxiety practically ruled my world. Inhaling deeply, I gazed around the room.
Okay, five things I see. I see the door, the wall in front of me, my sneakers, the chair that I'm tied to, and the rope that keeps me tied to it! Alright, not helping. I, uh, I- my thoughts started to blur together as my breathing sped up. My hands and feet tingled, my body going into full panic attack mode. Oh crap, not now! Slowly getting ahold of my emotions, I waited until the wave of anxiety passed.
Okay, no time for anxiety. Analytical mode: on. Gather information, then figure out how to use it. There's a vent in the ceiling that probably leads outside. Maybe- before my brain caught up with my mouth, it was already moving. I opened my mouth and screamed.
"HEEEELLLP! I'M TRAPPED IN HERE! SOMEONE KIDNAPPED ME!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.
My throat stung, but I'd already started, and I knew that I'd probably get punished for this if I didn't escape. I continued with wild screams, angling my face different directions in hopes that someone would hear me: "HEEEEL-"
My mouth snapped shut abruptly, me having caught sight of a shadowy figure in the corner of the cell. I squinted at the silhouette, drawing a sharp breath in when it stepped into the light.
Oh, Jesus fricking Christ, dude! Don't do that!
It was the man from the gala. He was adorned in black and green leather armor. It was similar to the armor he wore at the gala, but much of the gold plating was gone, leaving only wrist plates, a chest strap, and a golden curve that resembled a necklace. He clasped his arms behind his back, fixing me with a piercing stare. My eyes widened, an electric bolt of panic shooting through my core. I bit my lower lip and didn't dare to look away. I looked up and met his eyes as he towered over me.
"Do not scream again," he uttered in a low voice. A shiver crawled up my spine.
Don't make me.
He stared at me.
I stared at him.
He smirked, his handsome features radiating malice.
I awkwardly raised my eyebrows. Um... hi?
This exchange went on for several seconds, but I couldn't take the suspense for a second longer.
"Where am I?" I whispered. Oh, great job. Very confident sounding. Pull yourself together or you'll never make it out alive! I internally berated myself. I didn't mean to whisper, but my voice was apparently as scared of him as I was.
"You are where you need to be," medieval Snape replied, his sea-green stare pinning me in place. Oh, and the ropes. The ropes also pinned me in place.
"Oh, that's helpful," I retorted before I could stop myself. Immediately after, I clamped my mouth shut and mentally slapped myself. STUPID! Do you want to die?
He smirked yet again. Trying to get past my major lapse in judgement, I kept talking.
"Um, who are you? Why were you at the gala? You stabbed that dude in the eye, why'd you do that?" I babbled.
"I am Loki," the man hissed menacingly, "of Asgard. And the rest is none of your concern."
Loki. Looookiii. Weird name. Hey, isn't that-
"Really? You're pretending to be the Norse god of mischief and lies?" I asked skeptically.
In a flash, the man's hands were at my throat. His eyes flashed dangerously as I struggled for breath.
"You- will- not- talk to me in that manner. I am a god, and you will do as I say. Do you understand?" he hissed.
Now, no matter what my sister says, I do have some sense of self-preservation. I knew that no matter how much I hated it, if I didn't do what this psycho wanted, he would make my life a nightmare. Exhale. I need to create more space between his hand and my throat. With my hands tied, I'm completely at his mercy, so I have no way to fight back. He will kill me if I don't do what he wants! Swallow your pride, stupid, and pretend! I gritted my teeth and nodded around his grip on my neck, trying not to glare at him. He immediately let go and stepped back as if nothing had happened.
"Good," he cooed, back to his former demeanor. "You're learning."
My mouth opened in indignance, but he disappeared before I could say anything, leaving nothing more than the echo of a dry chuckle and my gaping, flustered face behind.
Stupid freaking Snape. Got to be blank, can't show him I'm afraid. I shook my head in disbelief.
"What just happened?"
...
Loki POV:
I appeared in my chambers, a sly smirk on my face. Well, that was interesting, I mused.
I was right, the girl definitely had heart. Her actions (and thoughts) had proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt. She was clearly confused, and scared beyond imagination, but still she had that thin thread of anger underneath it all. When she had doubted my authenticity as a god- thought I was pretending to be myself, no less, that had aggravated me. The peculiar Midgardian needed to learn her place, especially to one such as me.
She could be useful. She's a risk taker, that one, and not one to give up easily. I knew that the machine the scientist and the Hawk were building required some... daring innovations, ones that I wasn't willing to risk my two best minds on. Their intellect could never compare to my own, of course, but they did have more knowledge of Midgardian technology.
Any uncertainty fled my mind at that moment. Between her mix of courage and stupidity, her determination, and the fact that I didn't care if she lived or died, she was perfect. I would give her her assignment tomorrow.
As I paced the room, my face carefully blank (as a prince's must always be), I allowed myself to ponder the woman's thoughts. They may provide clues as to the best way to make use of her.
"Loki. Looookiiii. Weird name. Hey, isn't that-" So she knew who I was, or at least knew of me. When she learns that I am who I claim, she will gain more fear and respect for me.
"Stupid! Do you WANT to die?" She is not above insulting herself, and seems to know her worthlessness even if she refuses to show it. Interesting.
"Exhale. I need to create more space between his hand and my throat." She does know how to fight, albeit at a pathetic level. Or she could merely hold some basic common sense, which seemed to be all too rare in this realm. That could prove useful.
"Just pretend!" I knew she held no respect for me, which needed to change. I would have to keep an eye on this one. She obviously didn't know I could read minds, which I could use to shock her into cooperating. Mortals are so easily frightened.
And the last one. "Stupid freaking Snape. Got to be blank, can't show him I'm afraid."
What in the Nine was a snape?