The Red Soldier: The Crimson Prophecy

ISSUE #10

'You're holding awfully tight to me,' Bucky smirked, his blue eyes baring into (Y/N)'s as gentle music played through the record player. (Y/N) shrugged, reaching up and planting a kiss on his cheek as they swayed in time to the music. Bucky Barnes smelled particularly nice that evening, although (Y/N) would never let on that he thought this. James's ego could only take on so many compliments and (Y/N) had already told him how much he liked seeing him in 'that shirt' and how much he 'adored' the casserole he had cooked.

'I'm just shit at dancing,' he shrugged, 'if I don't hold on tight, I might fall on my arse.'

Stars shining bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you'

Birds singing in the sycamore tree

Dream a little dream of me.

Bucky chuckled at this, twirling him around before planting a kiss on his lips. 'You're not shit,' he shook his head, 'just unsteady.' He held (Y/N) in his arms, breathing into the crook of his neck. (Y/N) pulled away slightly, holding tightly onto Bucky's hand as he twirled him around. Bucky regarded him proudly, 'you're getting good, (L/N)' he smirked.

'I had the best teacher,' (Y/N) replied bashfully, letting his partner take the lead once more.

James Barnes blushed now, biting his lip as he turned his gaze to the painting of (Y/N)'s great grandmother, Junpier Baird, which hung above the mantle. 'I love you Buck,' smiled (Y/N).

'I know you do,' a cold, inhuman, voice spoke through James Barnes's mouth. The walls began to crack, red veins snaking their way through the baseboards and tearing through the wallpaper. Bucky held him tightly around the middle, restricting the movement of his arms as he kicked and squirmed in the air.

'Buck,' he yelled, 'Buck, you're hurting me!' James Barnes had an apathetic look on his face as he struggled. 'Stop it! Bucky stop it!' Sergeant Barnes had no intention of letting go of him, despite the fact that (Y/N) (L/N) was now struggling to breathe. (Y/N)'s face scrunched up as he willed his magic to bring him back to reality.

***

The walls of his Georgian home disintegrated, leaving him on his knees in the morning sun which beamed into the hall. His throat felt dry as he tried to regain his breath. Bucky had hurt him. That wasn't supposed to happen. He wiped the sweat from his hairline, knocking his crown slightly as he did so. 'You're magicks are incredibly impressive (Y/N) (L/N),' complimented the cold voice which had previously come from Bucky Barnes's lips.

(Y/N) whipped his head up, staring at the beast before him which stood idly by the table on which he used to practice. Squirming tentacles writhed about the being's body, his teeth jagged and gnashing as he talked in a horrific, blood-curdling, voice. 'Who're you?' questioned (Y/N), raising hands bearing pure magic. The beast attempted to do the same in a similar fashion but found himself unable to do so. His red eyes glanced between his pointed fingers in a state of confusion. 'Runes,' (Y/N) smirked proudly as he began to levitate, summoning the darkhold into his hands, 'only the witch who cast the runes can use their magic within the given space.'

The wretched creature laughed, 'That is correct,' he croaked, letting out a croak of laughter 'but I am no mage; I am no mere witch.'

'You're something,' (Y/N) growled, gritting his teeth as he closed in on the being before him, 'you found my home. You infiltrated my magicks.'

The creature let out another grotesque laugh, 'I am the god of the magic you wield so immaturely,' he spat, saliva leaking out between his needle-like teeth, 'I am Chthon. I am the Elder God of Chaos.' (Y/N) guided himself back through the air slightly, recollecting the little knowledge he had on a 'Chthon'. The Elder God grinned, flashing his yellowed teeth, 'you have heard of me,' he hissed gleefully, 'of course you have, you've read my book.'