"Yerrick…" Elliot Randolph's doppelganger said as he approached then knelt before the svelte man in the long, hooded leather tunic whose face was obscured by the black, gold trimmed mask almost identical but for its color to those worn by Thor's assassins.
The masked man turned, his hands clasped behind his back, to face Randolph.
"Rise. You have news?" Yerrick asked in a measured, low voice from behind the mask.
"They've taken him." Randolph said, standing.
"Good," Yerrick replied, turning back to face a wall of television sets in the metallic paneled room, all tuned to various news channels, each displaying video of some sort of unrest, violence and warfare and its aftermath in various places around the globe, "Do you know from whence all of this originates? All of this destruction? All this suffering and chaos?"
"Greed? Selfishness?" Randolph conjectured.
"Merely symptoms of the malady which plagues them. They live their pathetically short lives in a mad scramble for power, for identity. At the heart of it all is one great lie. I have come to put paid to that lie. They were made to be ruled. Only when they accept that can they experience life's true joy. The wretched creatures of this realm will know peace."
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"I wouldn't be surprised to run into Dracula down here. He kept her here for a year? I guess when you have a lifespan of a few thousand, one must be like a week," Coulson said as he, Randolph, Loki and Verda traversed the dark, narrow, winding, cobwebbed corridors of the subterranean crypt, Coulson carrying an electric lantern, its bluish tinted glow lending to the eeriness of their surroundings.
"Time passes for us the same as for mortals," Loki informed him.
"He had convinced her that Loki's life was in danger and she was fated to save it. That was what allowed her to endure," Verda led them into a room, a small bunk along one wall, a television, DVD player, and a video game system sitting on a stand, all plugged into a large battery powered generator, "He provided her with amusements...the same sort as your brother had become fond of," Verda told Loki.
"Every anti-social teenager's dream come true," Coulson quipped as he examined the room and the modern devices that clashed with the ancient stone walls of the crypt.
The sound of multiple bootsteps reached them, echoing from far down the corridor. Coulson silently pointed to the others, motioning for them to stand along the wall by the doorway before switching off his lantern.
The bootsteps grew nearer, the glow of a lantern preceding them. All four stood stiffly, holding their breath, preparing themselves for a confrontation. A body appeared in the doorway, shining his light into the room for a moment before withdrawing, Coulson taking note of what he could see of him reflected in the dead television screen along the far wall from the entrance to the room...a man sporting the black uniform of a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, the lantern in one hand, a firearm in the other. The bootsteps passed the doorway, continuing down the narrow corridor, Coulson counting what he thought to be ten men.
"I didn't call them in. What are they doing?" Coulson whispered, troubled and confused before Loki produced Mjolnir in his hand, stepping through the doorway.
"Are you looking for me or vampires? You brought the wrong weapons either way," Loki said, his voice echoing, startling the men who turned, raising their rifles, deafening gunfire erupting, Loki using his magic to deflect the trajectory of the bullets, shards of stone chipping from the walls.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Loki hurled Mjolnir in their direction, the hammer felling the group of ten like dominoes before returning to Loki's hand as Coulson and the others exited their hiding place.
"It seems you've provided me with an army of traitors," Loki said with irritation as Coulson cautiously approached the deceased men lying in the corridor, peering down at the nearest man.
"Walters was as loyal an agent as any I've ever known. Where's Miles and Solukis?" Coulson said, fearful for the fate of the two women that had accompanied them there.
Coulson's question was answered as they swiftly exited the church, rushing to the van parked on the street nearby. Cautiously opening the back doors, the four found the two missing female agents lying in the back, obviously deceased, their necks broken.
"Would they not agree to betray us?" Verda asked.
"She's here. We have to go...now," Loki said with urgency.
Verda's expression displayed her shock as she put two and two together, recalling Loki's question regarding the fate of the inmates in Asgard's dungeon.
"Who's 'she?'" Coulson asked.
"My sister," Verda informed him.
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"She wasn't on the ship, she wasn't among the survivors when we arrived in Midgard. She couldn't have used the Bifrost. She had to have died on Asgard," Verda said as she sat next to Loki on the bench seat within the quinjet.
"As you well know, ships and the Bifrost are not the only means to travel to Midgard," Loki replied.
"Why would she have only Thor murdered? Why not murder both of you and your father and take the throne? Why send me back?" Verda asked.
"Seizing a throne is easier than holding it. A usurper tends to foment discontent."
"She had Laufey murdered. You have a claim to that throne as well."
"Yes..." Loki acknowledged.
*******************************
"Seventy years ago, we fought a war against a madman…a few actually," Fury began as he and Coulson sat across from Loki and Verda at a conference table, "It gave rise to a terrorist paramilitary organization called Hydra. They may have existed in some form even before that. Its origins are a little murky. Nazi Germany went the way of the dodo but Hydra survived. They've infiltrated other organizations, governments, they're like a virus. Recently we've received intelligence that a good number of their members have been abandoning ship, recruited away by some new organization. I've been contacted in strict secrecy by someone high up in Hydra's chain of command actually asking for our help to find out who these people are. As the saying goes, better the enemy you know. They don't seem interested in recruiting Hydra's female members. I thought they were just misogynist bastards. There's women in S.H.I.E.L.D. that I'd put money on in the ring over most men any day of the week, but from what you've told me about her, if Lorelei is involved it makes sense."
"She's building an army," Verda said, "She means to rule...not just this realm, but Asgard, the others and beyond...an empire."
"Even if we take out the one she's building now, if all she has to do is whisper a few sweet nothings in a guy's ear, she'll raise another pretty damn fast. We have another saying, 'blood is thicker than water.' She's your sister. You know her best. Is it possible you could reason with her?" Fury asked Verda.
"My sister is beyond reason. There's only one way to stop her...by doing what your father should have done a long time ago," Verda said, addressing Loki.
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"I guess this isn't much of a honeymoon." Coulson said as he, Verda and Loki walked the corridor after leaving the conference room.
"A what?" Verda asked.
"On Earth, in some cultures, when a couple get married they usually go on a trip, a vacation. It's called a honeymoon."
"That would be nice. I've heard Alfheim's beautiful," Verda responded.
"Alfheim?"
"It's the realm of the light elves." Loki answered.
"Elves? They're real too?" Coulson asked.
"Speaking of travelling, I want you to return to Asgard," Loki said to Verda.
"Don't tell me I'll be safer there. We both know that's not true," Verda said, touching the pendant of her necklace, "I'm not leaving you."
"Excuse me. I have some calls to make," Coulson said as he continued down the corridor, sensing an argument brewing and not wishing to be caught in the middle of it.
"We should both return," Verda continued, "You are Asgard's king. Its army is yours to command. They should be made ready. We must come up with a trap for my sister to stumble into."
"Perhaps if we were to lure her into a forest...you do realize the pit you stumbled into was a trap of my own making. It had been intended for my brother, not wayward girls," Loki said with a puckish smile.
"I had come to suspect as much."