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       It didn't take long for the readying of the ceremony to come across, it also didn't take me long to dismiss the feeble hope that the dream had bought. Thanos was powerful, like I can shape and change the very fabric of existence powerful. It wouldn't be too hard for him to change a dream like oops, there goes a few little details like the names, places, words characters and the fact that this wasn't real.

       Sure, it was depressing but I couldn't be hoping for freedom when I'd already sold my soul.

       I was first escorted to an enclosed room, the rocky substance enclosed the area into a moderate-sized room. I was ushered to a stool in the middle, the stool faced an opening which viewed Thanos' platform.

       At Thanos' platform, the movements of figures laced back and forth. Underneath the movements of ant-sized figures shifted. There were tens of thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands. My stomach dropped.

       There's way too many of them.

       Why does it matter? You follow Thanos now. The voice replied with a sneer. I looked to my hands sheepishly like a caught-out child.

       Four figures entered into the room and if it was Earth, they would've been classified as women. They had the general humanoid shape and features, they're only real difference being their coloured skin. One was red, the one behind her, light pink, the one who followed her yellow and the last, green. They were identical with their doe-like eyes (the irises were also the respective color) slender frame and white waitress dress with golden trimming. Their high ponytailed colored ringlets flicked back and forth with each brisk movement they made. They came to stand in a line. If it weren't for their skin differences, they'd be clones.

       "Goodtime Miss," the red-skinned one said.

       "We will be assisting with your dressing," the pink one continued.

       "For the ceremony," the yellow one spoke.

       "We do not have names but we will serve Thanos until the day we pass," the green one said cheerily.

       "Okay then," I dragged out.

       "Please keep still during the procedure," Red said pleasantly like a physopath whose trying to convince her victim that they're not going to die.

       "To minimize mistakes and time," Pink added, the assistant in the deadly procedure.

       "Well this is certainly not worrying," I huffed to myself.

       "Do not worry," Green smiled, "it doesn't take long at all,"

       "Pitz!" Red cried, "do not speak out of turn!"

       Green's mouth dropped and she began to shake in fear. Tears filled her eyes and she gasped. It was quite a shaking scene, she was like a space-girl version of Dobby from Harry Potter.

       "Pitz!" Pink shrieked, "you're frightening the guest, excuse yourself."

       "Quickly!" Yellow crowed furiously.

       "Excuse me," Green cried, executed the fastest of bows and then scampered off.

       "Do not mind her," Red dismissed.

       "She was always weird," Pink added, "very odd,"

       "Now let us begin!" Yellow grinned.

       The three descended on me like a pack of rabid dogs, coloring my skin with powers and pastes, shimming into a silvery thin changing dress. My hair was washed, twisted and pulled until it was assigned into a braided updo. I was dressed in practically the exact same thing as I awoke except the skirt was floor length.

       The view converted into a reflective panel like something from Snow White and the Hunsman and I studied myself.
The cheekbones were the first thing I noticed; high and carved. They made my face seem more angled than usual. My skin was in shades of grey but shimmered with a reflection of bronze. The next thing I saw were my charcoal eyes, deep, but with a glint of knowledge and cheer. They were lined by some kind of alien eyeliner and mascara, the deep crimson eyeshadow made my eyes appear deadly and alluring. My salmon lips were lined and glossed with the same crimson color. My hair was circuited by a simple silver ring with a glittering ruby within. I wore simple black ballet flats in the design of the dress.

      "So fancy," I murmured, still awed by the fluency in which the dress moved.

      "We are glad you like it,"

       "But we need to leave now,"

       "You will now be escorted to Thanos,"

       "We wish you the best,"

       "And for your ultimate survival,"

       "Wait, what?" I stared at Yellow with wide eyes.

       "It's a farewell,"

       "Life expectancy is not long within the Sanctuary,"

       "But we best be going now," Yellow swept the floor with a bow and exited after her fellow hairdressers. I caught the last of glimpses of them as they swept away then the Asgardian entered and took me to Thanos.

       There wasn't much different about Thanos' platform; it was still about twenty meters in diameter. Thanos' throne was still floating around like a lost puppy. The entire place was dark and ominous but really beautiful in a NASA slash gothic way.

       A large polished dial sat on a rocky pedestal which was, surprise, the same rock as everything else. The bronze dial was wide, probably three quarters of a meter.

       A hooded man stood beside Thanos. Clothed in dark, heavy robes, a small scythe danced between his fingertips.

       "Welcome, Deathling," Thanos greeted.

       "Great to be here," I replied sarcastically, "not like its interfering with my daily schedule or anything,"

       "The ceremony will be performed faster if you do not speak," The robed dude said, his voice strained and wispy. He was like the Charon guy in the Percy Jackson movie.

       "By all means then," I replied cheerily, "let's stall for time," Robes gritted his teeth, but did not speak. Thanos had no reaction but continued to watch me carefully.

       "The ceremony requires your blood which, within minutes, will locate her most holiness, Death. Death will command the lost souls of Hel to come forth and terrorize the ten realms. Master Thanos and Mistress Death will rule the ten realms together."

       "Villain monologues," I muttered, "gotta love them,"

       "You doubt our plan?" Robes cocked his head, smirking.

       "Well what if Death doesn't want to play in your plan? What if she's totally chill hanging out, destroying lives etc.?"

       "Do not fret," Robes grinned, "a deal has been made, a sacrifice has been offered,"

        "Um-." I looked around but chills ran down my spine as I saw the six ragged, barely-conscious Avengers. "Dad," I cried in a hoarse whisper.

       Tony Stark looked pretty much the same as he did in the cell; broken, shattered. He had a bruise over his left eye and a nasty gash stretched from undernearth his right ear to the edge of his right cheekbone. He was limping on his left leg and his skin was covered in grime. The remains of a baby blue dress shirt clung to his chest. Long, black dress pants were torn below the knee. Out of all the Avengers, he looked the worse.

       Captain America wore the remains of practically the same dress. His nose was certainly busted, bruised and smeared blood decorated it like lights on a Christmas tree. Despite his misadventures, he still stood strong.

       Thor was negative hammer and armor, he was probably dressed in a hoodie and jeans before he was abducted. Now his fist was crushed, and his face was smeared with black blood, he gave me a wince though I wasn't sure why.

       Bruce Banner was almost void of injuries bust he was practically void of energy. His eyes were half closed and he was leaning on Tony. Maybe the Hulk had been submitted to the fishbowl like I had.

       Clint and Natasha, trained for hostage situations looked pissed and venomous. They refused to be offered as sacrifices. Like, nope, nah and nada. Bruises decorated their bodies like some kind of weird clothing.

       All of the Avengers were missing their weapons. Clothes hung on their skinny frames like scarecrows. All of them were beaten up, exhausted.

       I tried to run to Dad, tried to reach out for him but my feet were frozen to the ground. Not the I'm too shocked to run to him frozen but the my feet are encased in this gooey substance that suddenly appeared frozen. Deciding that I couldn't move my feet I spun back to Thanos.

       "Bastard," I spat, "do you have no honor? You violated the terms of our agreement,"

       "Not yet," Thanos grinned, "you never specified when your precious Avengers were to be returned to your petty home, and besides, you seemed like you needed a bit of motivation,"

       The soldiers behind the Avengers unsheathed their weapons with a shink and held the weapons in fatal positions to the Avenger's throats. I took a sharp intake of breath and held my lips together.

       "Now will you complete the ceremony?" Thanos asked, if he weren't so cold I would've thought that he was taunting me. I gave another dramatic look at Tony. He was wincing away from the blade, pulling Bruce up. We locked eyes and he gave the slightest shake of the head. I turned away.

       Tony Stark is willing to die a hero.

       So why can't you?

       But I can't let the people close to me be hurt. If they lived somehow then maybe they could survive somehow and have enough time to hatch a plan for freedom. Regrettably, I looked to the floor, and sighed, "Fine, do it,"

       People will die. My mind screeched. By doing this not only are you ruining the fate of yourself but all of the Avengers.

       Thanos gave a cold grin, Robes swished forwards, seizing my hand like I was suddenly going to run. He pulled it forwards over the pedestal and turned it over so the palm was facing upwards. The scythe glinted in the starlight and from the artificial glow around us. I let out a squeak as the blade slashed downwards, slicing a perfect cut about an inch long.

       Robes quickly pressed my palm to the pedestal. For a second, nothing happened, my chest tightened. I heard a sigh of relief from behind me.

       Then a glow began to emit from the pedestal. It was a bright, golden light, almost blinding. One small beam pointed to me, another to Tony, then a third stretched out into the deep ends of space.

       I began to shudder, pain crashed through me like waves of an ocean. Thoughts, feelings and images flashed through my mind, often too fast for me to make out what they were.

       "Stop!" Cleo cried and thrust her spear into a shifty figure. "You skink! Take it back!"

       "Cleo stop!" Someone else cried.

       The vision was whisked away from my mind as soon as it had formed.

       Gunfire spat in my ears, the air was a sandstorm, I whirled around, gun in hand. I was half a second from calling out to my comrades before bullets peppered me like Swiss cheese. The vision changed.

       "I'm not his son. I'm not his son. I'm not his son." A green-clothed figure muttered as he rode an eight-legged horse towards a large golden sphere.

       "Gale!" Another voice roared, Loki appeared before his son. Gale ran through the illusion with an angry cry. The vision changed again.

       "It's okay Mama," My Petal whispered to me, stroking my hand as my final breaths racked my body. I shuddered, using my free hand to clench at the sheets around me.

       "I'll see you there one day," I managed a weak smile at those around me, my family, my friends. I took a shuddering last breath and heard the persistent monitor, flatline. The vision changed.

       "Ring a ring a rosie," I sung, now myself, black robes shifting around me easily, like air, as I danced through the warzone. Mangled weapons and bodies were piled upon another.

       "A pocketful of posies," I cheered as I spotted civilian lovers entwined in a twisted and bloody embrace. Their faces rested upon another, they appeared to be sleeping.

       "A tissue, a tissue," I smiled psychopathically as I spotted a dying man. He shuddered as he saw me, defiance, tinged with fear filled his eyes.

       "They all, fall, down," I grinned as I sent a wave of Black Mist flinging through his body.