Status: Re-written from 1st person into 3rd. Reposting the chapters hopefully every Saturday/Sunday.
The Familiar Taste of Poison
One
Connecting with the cold, hard concrete floor woke her up. At first, the SHIELD agent was barely aware of her brief loss of consciousness. It took the moment her head connected with the ground to realize she had blacked out. The agent immediately sensed trouble, though the room was dark and her ears were ringing like they would back in Iraq. She laid her palms flat on the ground and pushed herself up, feeling her arms shake as she stared at the concrete below her while odd shadows of black and blue danced around the room. It was the same blue as the Tesseract, and as the energy portal it created.
Realization hit her like a train, while she laid across the tracks leading from ignorance to a worrisome realization. It sped up her memory, connecting the recent events until an ominous, solid shadow covered her. With a short breath in, and split second decisions, the agent pushed off the ground with her left hand. She spun quickly around on the concrete, while her right hand pulled her Glock from her thigh holster, before her back hit the ground. Not affected by the impact, her sights were already aimed up at the god, straight between his eyebrows. His aim however, was even quicker than the agent, and before she could fire upon him, Loki had the point of his scepter connected lightly with her chest.
Overwhelming fear and dread filled the agent, her vision blacking out momentarily and she was sure that she was about to die, before something much more frightful kicked in. The agent could feel parts of her brain shutting down, a dull though fiery ache forming in the base of her skull. She lost her motor skills first, unable to move or speak before her vision went black. The agent and soldier she was wanted to fight back, to shoot Loki, to stop this madness. The woman she was wanted to scream and cry as she was flooded with another being entirely. The black in her sight was giving way to a blue glow that steadily grew more and more intense as she drowned inside herself. Suddenly, there was nothing, no black, no blue, no drowning or screaming or fighting, there was absolutely nothing.
The empty shell of a soul left inside her, filled with a mind not her own, immediately replaced the Glock into it’s holster on the agent’s thigh. A pale hand reached down, the scepter removed from her chest, and helped her to her feet. A whole new monster rose with her, embedding itself like a leeching tick and replaced her free will with the wants and needs of a tortured and nearly forgotten Norse God.
Realization hit her like a train, while she laid across the tracks leading from ignorance to a worrisome realization. It sped up her memory, connecting the recent events until an ominous, solid shadow covered her. With a short breath in, and split second decisions, the agent pushed off the ground with her left hand. She spun quickly around on the concrete, while her right hand pulled her Glock from her thigh holster, before her back hit the ground. Not affected by the impact, her sights were already aimed up at the god, straight between his eyebrows. His aim however, was even quicker than the agent, and before she could fire upon him, Loki had the point of his scepter connected lightly with her chest.
Overwhelming fear and dread filled the agent, her vision blacking out momentarily and she was sure that she was about to die, before something much more frightful kicked in. The agent could feel parts of her brain shutting down, a dull though fiery ache forming in the base of her skull. She lost her motor skills first, unable to move or speak before her vision went black. The agent and soldier she was wanted to fight back, to shoot Loki, to stop this madness. The woman she was wanted to scream and cry as she was flooded with another being entirely. The black in her sight was giving way to a blue glow that steadily grew more and more intense as she drowned inside herself. Suddenly, there was nothing, no black, no blue, no drowning or screaming or fighting, there was absolutely nothing.
The empty shell of a soul left inside her, filled with a mind not her own, immediately replaced the Glock into it’s holster on the agent’s thigh. A pale hand reached down, the scepter removed from her chest, and helped her to her feet. A whole new monster rose with her, embedding itself like a leeching tick and replaced her free will with the wants and needs of a tortured and nearly forgotten Norse God.
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Finally, after three years I'm back and posting this story again, much better and in 3rd person. Technically this is the same story but three years changed a lot. The skeleton for this story is the same, there's the same outcome, but the flesh is changing with my editing and I'm hoping it'll be much better than before.