• Art Of Villainy • VI

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°Imagine°
The dagger of betrayal is plunged into your spine.

Captured and faced with the choice whether to betray Loki or not , the lines of love and hatred become even more blurred.

However, one thing becomes crystal clear.

Caught in the God of Mischief's twisted, sycophantic labyrinth of lies, you become his greatest challenge.

After all...
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
________________•••________________

     Pain and stiffness nestled deep within your bones

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Pain and stiffness nestled deep within your bones. The ropes binding you to the metal chair dug deep into your skin from your incessant struggling, leaving clear indents that stung.
You craned your neck back with an exhausted and irritated exhale, and squinted your eyes at the dim, flickering neon lights above. You were beyond physically exhausted.

The only thing that kept you awake and struggling was the deep-set anger in your chest. It stung against your ribcage just as strongly as it did on the roof of the Life Foundation those nights ago.

Your captor's breath seared itself repeatedly against your bruised cheek. It reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, making your stomach churn. If you had eaten anything in the past days, then perhaps you would have thrown up.
Instead, you swallowed the bitter taste on your tongue. 

"Come on, Stukkie," the voice rasped into your ear. Its source wheezed a laugh. "That mouth did far more speaking in Busan."

"I know nothing," you spat back, snapping your head down from the cold ceiling and its flickering lights.  Droplets of water dripped onto the stone floor with a steady, methodic rhythm.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

"Hard to believe that, lass," Ulysses grunted, grasping a fistful of your hair and yanking your head to the side until your eyes met his.
Sweat beaded on his leathery features, and the man's dull, grey eyes were practically soulless.
He leaned his head further until the stench of his breath filled your nose. "You and your husband stole my Vibranium from me, and killed four of my best men."

You were silent, Ulysses' fake arm gripping your hair until your scalp seared with pain. Your eyes, meanwhile, matched his soulless stare. They pierced into his with all of the loathing and disdain nestled deep within your soul, so much so that your chest hurt.
Loki's betrayal was like a dagger plunged into your spine, and with every breath you took, it sliced into your body even further and made each breath more painful than the one before. You took it as a constant reminder of what you really were all along to the God of Mischief.

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⏰ Last updated: Nov 14, 2023 ⏰

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