Chapter Text
Darcy remembered when she twenty-four, she drank an entire bottle of whiskey on a dare. Not the smartest thing to do, but she was at a party, and hey, she made ten bucks doing it. The rest of evening was a blur of colors and movements, strange sounds and basic disorientation. When her senses finally came back to her fourteen hours later, she found herself sleeping underneath a bridge, two states over, with the words CAPTAIN written across her forehead in red Sharpie.
Besides a few bruises and the odd message written on her (she didn't recognize the handwriting) she was fine. She still had her phone, the ten dollars she earned, and her wallet. She ended up having breakfast at a local Ihop, then jumped onto a bus, and spent the next four hours riding it all the way back home.
Best night ever.
That being said, waking up in an unknown house she had never seen or been in before shouldn't be terrifying. Shouldn't, though it was.
She woke up on the kitchen floor, near the stove. There was no disorientation, no sleepiness. She just opened her eyes and voila, there she was. "Okay," Darcy said to herself, pushing herself up from the white linoleum floor. "This is strange."
The kitchen was a good decent size, much bigger than your average household. The counter tops were a dark, ugly green color, while the cabinets were a light brown. There was also an island, and hanging right above it were copper pans, a wok, and other various kitchen tools. All new, all shiny.
"Shit. Did I break into a rich home?"
She should probably shut up just in case said rich fold were still inside the house. She didn't see an alarm system, so that was a plus for her. She walked to the back door, grasped the handle and turned.
It wouldn't budge.
Darcy jiggled the locks, turning them this way and that, gripping the handle until her palm burned. Nothing she did made a difference. She pulled back, rubbing her red, aching hand. "Shit."
She pushed back the white curtains on the back door to look through its windows. Outside it was bright and sunny day. The backyard had a pool, and a fence Darcy could easily jump over. If she could open the damn door.
She backed away from the door, frowning at it deeply. After a quick search of her pockets, she found her phone.
No signal.
She held her phone up, moving it from side to side, hoping a bar will pop up. When none did, she grumbled and shoved the phone back into her pocket. Might as well try to go out the front door.
The kitchen connected to the living room, bigger and more elaborate. A giant flat screen tv hanged on the wall, and sitting in front of it was a leather couch that could seat at least ten people. The floor was carpeted white, so white that Darcy was skeptic if anyone had actually ever set foot here. There were abstract paintings on the wall, glass figurines on display, and an actual fire place.
There were no signs of life though. Despite the flatscreen, Darcy could not see a tv remote or dvd cases. On a closer inspection of the television, there wasn't finger oil residue on the on/off button. There were also no family pictures on the walls, no calendars, no discarded newspapers. Nobody lives in this house, apparently.
Maybe this was a For Sale house.
Whatever. Now that Darcy knew she was alone, she was a little more confident in her steps, happy to know she wasn't about to trip an alarm. She went straight for the front door.
She heard the boots before she saw them. The dull thump of leather striking the floor. Darcy slowed, eyebrows furrowing at the sound. A man then turned the corner, and in shock, Darcy stumbled. She fell back, as her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped.
Loki seemed to be just as surprised to see her here. "Hello," he said. "I know you."
Darcy didn't bother to say something witty or rhetorical back. She scrambled backwards on her hands, surged to her feet, and ran for the back door. This time she wasn't so gentle. She rattled the door knob, cursing as she tried to get the damn thing to turn. "C'mon! C'mon!"
Loki's hand slammed against the door, right next to her head. "Oh, don't leave, we just met."
Darcy twirled around to face him. Cripes, he was tall. She had to bend her neck up to look at him. "Okay, look, if you're going to kill me, do it quick."
She then closed her eyes, squeezing them painfully shut, and braced herself for the end. She waited.
"Move."
"What?" Darcy opened her eyes.
Loki didn't bother to repeat himself. He pushed her aside, almost knocking her off her feet. Darcy threw her hands out, catching herself on the kitchen island. She turned back to Loki, who was gripping the door knob now, twisting it as she did.
There was clearly a lot more strength involved with him. Darcy could hear the door groaning under his hand as he tugged and pulled. Despite the noises, the door refused to budge.
"Whoa," Darcy said. "I thought you were suppose to be strong and stuff."
Loki turned his head towards her, mouth in mid-snarl. Darcy hunched, suddenly reminding herself that this guy could actually kill her.
"I cannot open the front door. Clearly there is something blocking us from exiting." Loki said.
"Yeah? Have you tried smashing a window?"
Loki cocked his head, clearly it was a move he hadn't thought of. Darcy jumped when he suddenly slammed his fist against the glass plated door. It didn't leave a mark. He punched it again and again, until he finally backed away. His fist was covered in blood. "It can't be magic," he said, touching the glass that had his blood smeared over it. "I would have felt it."
"Well, it's not science," Darcy said. "Otherwise I wouldn't be here."
Loki dropped his hand, and gave her an unimpressed look. "Explain."
"Well... who has the best tech in the world? Shield. And I'm one of the good guys, so, they wouldn't lock me in here with you. Soooo... yeah."
"Then if it's not magic or science, what is it?"
Darcy shrugged. "I dunno. Something we haven't seen before."
Loki considered this. "Look around," he commanded. "Search for clues."
What, just like that? He was going to trust her? "You're not going to kill me?"
Loki raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to kill you?"
"Huh, no, but-"
"Then shut up, and search for clues. I don't know how long we'll be here and I don't your corpse stinking up the place."
Darcy didn't know if she should feel grateful that it was only because of her rotting corpse that kept Loki from offing her. She was going to go with grateful.
"Blues Clues, Blues Clues," Darcy sang under breath, twirling slowly, not entirely sure what to do or what to look for. When she spotted the refrigerator, she shrugged, and went over to investigate. She opened it, expecting at least a bottle of sauce, but there was nothing inside. Nothing in the freezer either.
"Hmmm..."
The cabinets held cups and plates, though it lacked any sort of design. They were all white, no signs of wear or tear. She picked up a plate, her lips pursing in thought, then she dropped it to the floor. It shattered.
Well, at least the laws of physics still worked. Sorta.
At the sound, Loki poked his head out from the hallway, glaring curiously at her. Darcy shrugged, and Loki went back to doing whatever he was doing, eyes more narrowed than before.
Darcy played with the sink, twirled the knobs on the stove, flicked the light switches. Nothing came on. "Hey, there's no electricity or water in this house!" Darcy said out loud, though she wasn't sure what that meant.
"Find something useful!" Loki called back.
Darcy huffed at him. "Find something useful... huh..." The kitchen was basically empty, so she trailed to the living room, her arms swinging stupidly. There were a few books on the shelves, though none of them bore titles or author names. Darcy pulled one off, thinking it was going to be an art book or the Bible. Inside there were only blank pages.
"Seriously?" She tossed that book aside and picked up another one. That too, was blank.
She pulled book after book after book off the shelf. Every single one was blank. "This is stupid," she said. "What's the point of this place?"
Loki at the moment was busy staring out a window. He wasn't moving, he wasn't trying to figure out how to open the window, he was just looking.
The house was weird, that's for sure. Having Loki here and not killing Darcy was even weirder. Were they friends now? Darcy didn't think they were friends. Allies? Chums? Once they do figure a way out of here, did he plan to kill her anyways?
Decided to take the road unexplored, Darcy walked up, stood next to Loki, and stared out of the window as well. Outside was the front yard, a tree, the street, and other neighboring houses. There was a car parked in the driveway, and a mailbox with the red flag up. Other than that, there were no other signs of human life.
"Soooooo," Darcy said. "What are we looking at?"
"Nothing," Loki said.
"Oh. Then why are you still standing here?"
"If you bothered to look closer," he hissed. "There's nothing to see. No insects, no birds, no wind. I've been staring at that tree for the past five minutes, waiting for the leaves to rattle, and there has been no movement. There is no point going outside. It is just as dead as it is in here."
He moved away, not bothering to give Darcy a second glance as he stomped up the stairs to the second floor. Darcy watched him go, then moved closer to the window, cupping her hands against the glass to peer outside.
Loki was right. No matter how long Darcy stared, no birds flew by. No squirrels, no butterflies, everything was calm and serene and so devoid of life. It was actually pretty creepy.
She decided to follow Loki upstairs. Suddenly she didn't want to be alone.
Once the top step, Darcy could see three closed doors on her right, and two doors on the left. Loki was already going through the contents of one room. He was pulling the sheets of a bed, inspecting the mattress, and the bed frame. Like downstairs, the upstairs rooms were boring. No posters, no paintings, even the color of the blanket were the same as the wall.
Darcy decided to take the doors to the right. She opened the first door, which revealed a child's room. It had blue wall paper, a smaller bed, but that was it. No toys, no questionable stains, no bottles of baby powder, lotion, or clothes. Darcy didn't bother to thoroughly search this room and went on to the next one.
The next room had to be the bathroom. As empty as this house was, surely it had a bathroom. She hoped if there was, the toilet worked. She didn't know what she'll do if she had to pee It's not as if she could throw it out the window.
Expecting little or nothing, Darcy opened the door.
She was right, it was a bathroom. There was a sink, toilet, and a tub/shower combination devoid of a curtain. Like the others, this room held nothing. No toothbrushes, no toilet paper, no scented candles or sprays. There was one towel and it was white. But unlike the others, this room was occupied.
Darcy cupped her mouth to muffle her gasp. Leaning against the tub was a mummified human being.
Thanks to Jane, Darcy has seen a number of Egyptian mummies with their wraps taken off. Darcy remembered their skin was bone dry, brown, sunken in, clinging to every curve of their skeleton. The lips were pulled back, revealing their teeth, as if they never had lips to begin with. The hair was thin and brittle-looking, the nails long and pointy. The eyes were long gone, all that was left were two gaping holes of horror.
This dude had no clothes on. At least, Darcy thought it was a dude. The genitals were too shriveled up to see if it were man or woman. No breasts either. He was leaning against the tub like he had decided to sit down and relax for a moment, with one arm draped across the edge.
Darcy pressed the back of her hand against her nose. There was no odor she could smell, though that didn't mean she wanted to see if there was. What the hell was going on. Who was this dude? Where did he come from?
Then, without prompt or warning, the dude's head snapped up. It's mouth fell opened. "Ungh."
Darcy screamed.
The mummy braced himself against the tub. He then launched himself off the bathroom floor, as if he were the rock in a slingshot, slamming into Darcy, tackling her to the ground. Darcy managed to throw an arm between them, keeping the mummy's face away from hers. The mouth was snapping at her as its hands painfully gripped her shoulders, refusing to be pushed away. "Ungh! Ahh! Loki! LOKI!"
A hand grabbed the mummy's head by the hair, wrenching it up, away from Darcy's face. Loki tried to tug the mummy away from Darcy, but the thing still had a death grip on Darcy's shoulders.
Grunting, Loki struck out with a fist, snapping the mummy's forearm, dislodging its grip from Darcy's shoulder. With it's broken, snapped arm now loose, Loki struck the other arm, snapping that one as well. Now free, Loki pulled the mummy up and off of Darcy. The damn thing was snapping its jaws noisily, while its broken arms flailed, still trying to reach for something.
Darcy scrambled back. She hit the wall behind her, and yet her legs kicked out, still trying to move back even further.
Loki threw the mummy across the hall, where it crashed against the wall, crumpling to the floor. Darcy pushed herself up, staring at this thing with her mouth wide opened, as it struggled to correct itself.
Just when Darcy thought this couldn't get any worse, the last door opened. A stark, white hand reached out, and grabbed the mummy by the ankle. The hand dragged the mummy swiftly into the room as if the dude weighed nothing at all. "Ugh! Ugh!"
The door slammed shut, and the audible sound of a lock clicking into place was heard. Silence followed after.
Finally, Darcy couldn't take it anymore. "What the hell was that?"
"I don't know," Loki said. He was grinning. "But I want to find out."