I sniffed, the sound echoing through the room. I had long since run out of tears, but I just sat there.
Numb.
I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw flashes. My cell, attacking soldiers, Asgard, escaping, Harudheen, helping Barnes, Wakanda, the soul world, the final battle, my dad, dead in front of me.
I laid on my back on the bed, the smell of rot and mothballs filling my nose. I snorted, shaking my head to try and get rid of it. The smell cleared for a second but returned just as strong not long after.
Eventually, my exhaustion overpowered my will, but not by much.
I was in some sort of field. Malekith was in front of me, and there was a sword in my hand. What's going on? Am I dreaming?
Or is this a nightmare?
We charged at each other, our blades locking. He pulled back, his sword clipping my side. The world seemed to glitch for a moment as I saw a flash of Malekith standing over me, a shadowy figure looming behind him.
I snapped back to reality, seeing Malekith looming over me, his sword glinting in the sun. A shiver traveled down my spine, my blood feeling terribly cold.
I stood up, and we continued fighting. The sounds of metal scraping against itself and grunts filled the air, the metallic smell of blood wafting around us.
I aimed a punch at his head with my free hand, and there was another flash. Tendrils shot out of the darkness, wrapping around my limbs as I strained against them. Fear shook me to my core, but I shook my head and kept fighting.
I managed to make a large incision in his stomach, and he was struggling because of it. Blows were traded back and forth, with no real damage being dealt. But then I saw it. My chance.
I had one shot to end this. To slice his head clean off and finish this fight for good. I charged at him, battle-worn and exhausted but determined. My sword swung up in an arc...
and I missed. He had managed to move just far enough away for me to miss.
This was it. I had no hope of winning.
I was going to die.
After that, Malekit got the upper hand, swinging his sword in a large arc, the blade slicing through my left arm, taking it clear off. The momentum caused it to sail across the field, landing with a sickening them a few yards away. There was a gaping wound in my abdomen, and my arm had been reduced to a bloody stump.
It was hopeless at this point. But I decided to give it one last try.
I charged at Malekith, sword at the ready. His blade was poised and ready to take me out with one swift cut. I closed my eyes, jumped into the air, grabbed my handle with both hands, and brought the sword down.
I opened my eyes, seeing the blade dug deep into his head, blood pouring everywhere. In shock, I pulled the blade out, and he fell to the ground as his eyes rolled back into his head. I couldn't believe it. I had...
I had won.