Song: The Fire (By Griffinilla)

A/N - This song is actually one of the main ones to originally inspire this entire story and specifically this chapter. I also simply really enjoy this song in general for some reason, it makes my brain feel all wiggly and tingly :D

It also fits really well into a scene near the end of this chapter, which is heavily inspired by this song, so if you would like to try and match it up to the scene for dramatics, I will mark where you should start it if you do!

anyways- that is all, I hope you enjoy! Have the most amazing day my loves!! <3

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For the first 93 days, I kept track, marking a tally on the wall with each passing day. After that, I gave up on marking how long I had been there since each added tally only made me feel more hopeless.

There was no window so I had no way of knowing whether it was even day or night. The only way I was able to have any relative to the time was by the guard's shift change, which I quickly memorized. There were 9 changes throughout what I assumed was one day.

Number 1 was always the grumpiest, so that must be in the early morning. Number 2 brought the first meal, a piece of stale bread, and a cup of water (they wouldn't let me die of starvation just yet). Number 3 just awkwardly sat there. Number 4 escorted me to the highlight of my day (that was sarcasm, it was indeed not the highlight of my day, it was in fact torture). Numbers 5 and 6 were in charge of making my life completely miserable, every day trying to break me so that I would comply and do whatever it was that they wanted me to do. Number 7 brought me another piece of even more stale bread and water. Lastly, 8 and 9 were stationed when I was supposed to sleep. Although for the first month, I refused to even close my eyes for more than about half an hour each day, I wouldn't be unconscious and vulnerable around anyone. However, I eventually gave up on that as well and gave into a few hours of sleep each day after I started hallucinating Odin sat in the corner of my cell knitting a cardigan on a daily basis.

For the first several months every day was the same. Desperately try to fight off sleep, eat, stare at a wall, torture, eat, stare at the other wall, repeat.

For a while, the torture would only get increasingly worse every day. Every day they would tell me what they wanted me to do, but I never honestly fully paid attention to what they said since that was the time I used to focus on zoning out and separating my mind from my body in order to get through the day (Prince Loki taught me how to do it when we were younger in order to get through the panic attacks that I got often, although it clearly proved it was a useful skill in other circumstances as well).

Every day, after their speech about me complying or whatever and me obviously refusing every time, I always found a slight amount of joy from excessively cussing them out in Asgardian. I also liked to get creative with it, most commonly saying something crude about their mothers. They clearly didn't understand what I was specifically saying since I made sure to stick to Asgardian if only to aggravate them more, but it was obvious by my tone that it was most certainly nothing pleasant.

I think that they thought that they would have broken me after only about a week, but I was one stubborn motherfucker. I could tell that at about the 2-month mark they were becoming extremely impatient, it got a lot worse for a while. After about 5 months they resulted in trying to starve me (quite pathetic if you ask me). By what I assumed was about 6 months, I think they forgot about me. Either that or they just completely gave up, but I definitely wasn't complaining, it also gave me more time for escape attempts.

I tried to escape many times. One time I actually got really close, I made it to the shipyard where I was only a few yards away from a ship that I would use to fly off. But then of course it was at that moment a very hungry bilge snipe decided I was a perfect option for a snack which allowed for the guards to catch up to me as I fought it off.

However, my favorite escape attempt was when I took apart my prosthetic arm using the pieces to pick the lock and also create a makeshift blade. I was even able to take down a few guards on my way that time. Sadly though, I didn't get my arm back after that.

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By 9 months, I was still sitting in that damn cell, and my sanity was greatly suffering. The only thing that kept me just the slightest bit sane was my still constant escape attempts. Obviously, it never worked, and every time they would increase the security or patch up a loophole I found only making the next time more difficult than the last, but I enjoyed the challenge. If anything, I simply continued trying as a form of entertainment, enjoying the occasional thrill.

I honestly started to wonder why they had not killed me by then, I made it pretty obvious I wasn't going to give in to what they wanted. Especially with my constant escape attempts I must have surely just been a nuisance to keep around. Yet, there they kept me.

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317. That number was always stuck in my head now. I have always liked numbers, I have a fascination with them, obsessing over them, but this number, I absolutely despised this number. I even started avoiding anything to do with 3,1, or 7 altogether believing it was bad luck. For example, 6 used to be my favorite number, but it was easily divisible by 3 so I obviously couldn't have that anymore, so I changed it to 4.

There was a reason I hated the number 317. Every time it crossed my mind my stomach would drop in some sort of unconscious correlation to that day. The day I failed. The day I betrayed everyone that I love. The day that I hurt everyone I ever cared about.

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It was 317 days after I was turned into an ice cube and taken from my home. It's true that I stopped consciously marking the days after day 93, but I still couldn't help myself and I continued to unconsciously count as if my own brain was trying to mock me.

It was about a third of the way through number 3's shift when the rusted door screeched open rudely interrupting my designated wall staring time.

So far it had been a good morning, there was a newly acquired crack in the wall this morning which slightly resembled a deformed sort of chicken in its own odd way and it made me chuckle.

However, I thought it odd, nothing ever happened during 3's shift. I curiously pried my gaze away from the wall I was so intently observing and squinted trying to see who came in.

It was that purple dude again! I had not seen him since the first day! I had to admit, it was actually kind of a relief to even just be able to see anyone besides the Chitauri. I had to constantly be around nothing but their crusty deformed faces for almost a year now, so it was nice to switch it up a little, even if the ballsack chin guy was definitely no pleasing sight to the eyes either.

I had recently learned that said ballsack chin guy's name was actually Thanos after overhearing a conversation between 2 guards. They spoke his name with much fear, so I assumed he was not the type of guy I would want to joke around with if I valued my life.

However that never stopped me before, so why should it now?

"Ah, you are the same purple man from before! Not that there are any other purple men here. I was actually wanting to ask you about that little act with snapping that blade in half. I have been trying to figure out how you did that, so if you have some amazing workout routine, I would love to hear about it. It is also great to see you here though, no offense but your minions definitely don't have the best hospitality so if you are up for some constructive criticism, I would recommend actually getting some guards with an actual soul, I'm looking at you, Benny." As I finished I gave a pointed look to the current guard on duty whom I named Benny.

Most of the other guards would at the very least give a very annoyed groan at my constant rambling and philosophical questions, but Benny, Benny never cracked so it was my life goal at this point to annoy him until he finally snapped, purely out of spite. Being annoying was something that I was very good at, and it was great entertainment.

"Do you always talk this much?"

"Only when I want to annoy people. It gets quite lonely and boring down here you know, watching people with a stick up their ass get annoyed is always a good form of entertainment." I said with an over-exaggerated cheery voice and a cheeky grin on my face.

"Hmm, well that won't last long."

"Well I would not sound too sure about that, I have been down here for almost a year now and I haven't given up just yet, the whole intimidation tactic thing doesn't really work on me. But it is ok, it was a good try."

I was really just tempting death at this point. I knew I was playing with fire, but to be honest, I couldn't find it in me to care. If he killed me, he killed me, I didn't think I could put up with that stale bread a day longer anyways. However I did secretly hope that it would instead be Benny to snap and kill me, I could at least die satisfied.

He just did that weird hum again and grinned. Gods I wanted to slap that stupid grin right off his face.

"Take them out of the cell."

"Oh so you're going to kill me out here? That is kind of you I guess, all that dust in there was starting to really make my sinuses act up." I said as Benny manhandled me all while I was also giving him the biggest stink eye I could muster.

No matter how much I hid behind my jokes, in all reality, I really was fully expecting them to kill me at that moment. They finally had enough, I was useless to them, they already kept me around for longer than I expected. It didn't make sense for them to keep me around, the sick purple bastard probably just wanted the satisfaction of slitting my neck himself.

"I'm not going to kill you little one, you are of too much use to me."

(Start the song here if you would like the dramatics)(The timing may be slightly off since I obviously don't know exactly how fast everyone reads)

"Look, whoever you are, like I already said over and over again, I am not going to have any part in your sick plan, you can do whatever you want to me, but I will never give you what you want." This time I spoke with sincerity as if I was trying to convince him to kill me. I just wanted to get this over with.

"I was hoping you would say that," he smirked.

He then sauntered over to the guard who came in along with him grasping something wrapped up in a cloth. Unwrapping it slowly, he carefully pulled out a weird over-glorified, and also lame excuse for a spear. It was not long enough to be correctly used as a spear, looked to be made of something similar to gold (way too dense for practical use), there was an odd soft blue glow coming from a stone at its center (it would just get in the way of the blade not allowing you to get a clean attack), and the blade was simply highly impractical, all characteristics of an awful spear. He must really only be going for dramatics at this point if he so clearly knows nothing about a good spear.

He picked it up, slowly turning it in his hand a bit as he walked toward me. The guard kicked out my legs and pushed me to the ground. It was a lot rougher than necessary, but I guess that was just Benny's way of getting back at me before I died. When he reached me I lowered and tilted my head to an angle that would give him a cleaner swipe.

I remembered how I was so hopeful I would get out of here in the beginning. I thought for sure that someone would come looking for me, that any day Prince Loki and Thor would burst in here to take me home, or that I could escape on my own (because I was no damn damsel in distress- although I also would not have been necessarily opposed to someone at least offering some assistance at this point). It took me a while, but I eventually accepted the reality that no one was coming for me and no matter how many times I tried to escape I never got any closer.

I was so desperate for it to just be all over at this point. I was tired of fighting a fight I knew I could never win. I was simply prolonging the inevitable and I was getting impatient.

However, I was forced out of my thoughts when instead of slicing my head clean off Thanos instead gently placed the blade of the weak excuse for a spear under my chin forcing me to turn to look at him.

"You are going to be a great use to me whether you want to or not."

He lightly trailed the blade down to my chest stopping right above my heart. Pressing it harder against me, yet still not enough to draw blood, the blue light it gave off hummed to life pulsing and growing brighter for a moment until just a second later it returned to its previous state.

However, just as quickly as it was snuffed out, an overwhelming sensation rapidly spread through my body originating from where the scepter was still touching me. Spreading across me and down each limb like an out-of-control wildfire until I went limp. Then more slowly than before, as if it was mocking me, it burned its way through me up to my head.

I could feel it taking over my whole body, it completely encased me in its flames, feeling unable to move but also having the complete capability to, hoisted up by strings like a puppet collecting dust just waiting for the puppeteer to take control allowing me to move. I felt it seep into my mind, navigating its way through every inch leaving no place untouched, blasting through all the walls I had set up, slithering its way into every memory, infecting everything I held close. It covered everything with an endless cloud of smog only leaving the darkness of its shadow. It scorched away any sign of life as if clouding over the surface of a pool not allowing me to see the colorful, stunning, and lively bottom that was there, still hiding beneath the surface.

Everything burnt to ash. Everything that ever made me feel anything was hidden out of sight behind the raging fire which only continued to spread. The only feeling left behind was the heat of the flames burning my skin.

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