Chapter Twenty-Five: The Dark Realm

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I feel the cold caress my skin as the goosebumps begin to crawl along my arms.

I'm floating around in the darkness, a lump forms in my throat as I remember the time I spent here. Cold, alone, blind. I can't see anything, not even my hand in front of my face. The only things surrounding me are the dark blue and purple hues of the realm.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. My father created our apartment, so I should be able to do that too right?

I decide to picture a road, a long one made of concrete that curves until it reaches the apartment.

Suddenly, I'm not floating, my feet touch solid and I can see the road below me. The world around me clears and the air doesn't feel so stiff anymore.

I begin walking, following the road through the darkness.

I feel the visions and memories of other lives enter my mind. Doctor Strange said that criminals would be banished here to perish. Are these their memories?

I'm starting to regret ever coming here alone. April would have held my hand as I try and locate Dawson. Loki would have tried to keep a protective barrier around me.

On the contrary, it's better that I go alone. That way if I do end up dying, they wouldn't have to see my lifeless body.

I look ahead and see the door to the apartment building I grew up in. It stands tall and unbroken unlike the one in the real world. I turn the knob and the world spins.

I'm in our room, our apartment, I can see clearly here, the darkness being kept outside. The smell of burnt wood and cloth is overwhelming. The room is covered in dark, black ash. It seems cold and alone, the fire having devastated what it once was.

I have to keep reminding myself that this doesn't exist. That I'm simply in a projection of the past.

But something here does exist. I feel its presence creep along my back like a spider.

I whip my body around to see him in the doorway. I recognize him almost immediately. His face has lost its sharp features due to age, I can see see the gray hairs begin to creep upon his brown hair. The one thing that seems not to have aged is his bright brown eyes.

"Whats up, Dad." I stalk towards him, keeping myself prepared for him.

"Gwendolyn," he breaths. The sight of him makes the back of my eyes start to burn. God I wish this wasn't happening.

I look at him, taking in everything about him from a closer level. His eyes have dark circles and he looks twenty pounds lighter. He seems almost deathly unhealthy. Yet he holds himself in a powerful position, so I proceed with caution.

"Dawson," I say.

"I've waited years to see you," he says. His voice is deep and gravelly. His manner is tired and slow.

"I didn't know you were alive," I mutter, crossing my arms.

He glares at me and his expression turns dark. "I looked everywhere for you," he says.

Our conversation is cold and direct. No other emotions hidden behind our words except anger and bitterness.

"Well, not everywhere," I scowl, my teeth peeking from between my lips. "You left me behind with no remorse! I had to fend for myself."

He knows I'm referring to SHIELD. He is the one that dragged me there.

"You know I only did that because I loved you," He walks a bit closer to me, probably taking in just how much I have grown.

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