Running at Full Tilt: Prologue

Welcome to my new Avengers fic! This is the promised Predator movie inspired story. :) I've been working on it for a while, so I would have a bit of it done, before I started posting. And here it is! This is only a little taste.

I try to update as regularly as I can, typically on Saturdays, however, I am in college, so I can't promise that I will update every week like I used to. Sorry, but education comes first :/

Anyway, here we go. This is, as usual, Loki centric, though I tried to change him up a bit from my normal portrayal. A bit angrier and darker, than I usually write him as.

Keep in mind it is LOOSELY based on the movie Predator, so I'm not labeling it a crossover. I have not actually seen the movie, but I liked the concept, and thought, hmmm...wonder what would happen if you threw the Avengers on a planet to be hunted? This is the result.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Predator movie or characters, same for Avengers. That belongs to Marvel.

Warnings: Violence...probably lots of angst.

Sudden Shift

The Avengers had been called out to another army of evil robots planning to take over the world when it happened. They were getting down to the last few, and all of them were exhausted.

"Ok, even evil villains have to sleep some time, right? This is our eighth call this week. You'd think they would get..I don't know, tired or bored." They heard Hulk roar a couple blocks over, and Tony took it as agreement. "I know, right?!" He shook his head and shot a beam straight through his last robot's chest plate. "Alright. I'm done. That's it for me." Steve, beside him, grunted in agreement.

"That sounds great, but-" Tony waved his arms about.

"No! No, no, no. Fury can take care of that this time. I am not dealing with any more robot parts." He looks over and picks up a severed robot arm with torn wires sticking out of the socket. "Except this. I'm keeping this, no matter what he says." Tony tucked it under his arm, and prepared to fly off in the direction of the tower, when Clint crackled over the ear buds.

"Uh, guys? You might want to come take a look at this." Tony huffed and puffed, but did follow his teammates to where Clint was waiting for them. They were soon all gathered around a very large…circle of burnt runes…on the edge of New York City. Hulk sniffed the air and growled. Natasha turned to Thor.

"Do you recognize this?" The Asgardian prince was staring at the markings intently, but shook his head.

"These are not unlike the markings left behind by the Bifrost, but they…are not that. I have never seen anything like this before." Tony sighed.

"Ok. Jarvis scan the mystery markings on the ground."

"Already done, Sir. I cannot find any match for the symbols, though they do appear similar to ancient texts describing ancient civilizations and demons from the sky." They all turned to Thor, eyebrows raised in question.

"I do not know of these markings. These symbols are unlike any language of the nine realms. Though.." Thor's brow furrowed, and the others waited for him to share his thoughts. Tony groaned when he recognized the look on the Thunderer's face.

"Do not tell me this has to do with that crazy brother of yours, Thor, I swear-" Thor shrugged helplessly.

"They might seem slightly familiar to me, because of my brother. He was always reading books in strange tongues that I did not recognize. Perhaps, he would know." That sparked a whole argument about involving the psycho Norse god who had tried to take over the world six months ago, and it had not been the first. Whenever something possibly magical or strange came up, Thor suggested talking to Loki, which set Clint off, which put Natasha and Bruce on edge (for different reasons of course). Then Tony would make some stupid comment, that Steve would lay into him about, so they would start going at it. That would go on for about thirty minutes, before one of them stormed off, usually Thor before he slammed something, and Steve would call a time out. Beyond that, they got along for the most part.

A major problem of these fights, was that during them, the Avengers tended to not pay attention to anything else. So, there, beside the mystery burnt, possibly ancient alien demon, crop circle the Avengers fought amongst themselves, and didn't notice the way the runes were starting to glow and smoke. In fact, they didn't notice, until the Hulk started to roar at the now burning ground, but by then…it was too late.

He was running as fast as he could with a shattered ankle and one eye. The sun had set a few hours ago, and he had gotten so caught up in his search for food, that he hadn't found proper shelter yet. The planet he was on was lethal around every corner, but somehow still managed to be worse at night.

The dark had crept up on him, and now he was paying the price for his inattentiveness. However, lately he had been slipping into strange moods. He could not tell you how long he had been on the planet. He had lost track after the first four weeks. After that, he hadn't seen much point in keeping a calendar. Constantly being hunted changed you after a while, to the point where anything besides eating, minimal sleep, and living through a day were cast aside as non-essential. He had been hunted the moment he was transported to- wherever in the damned nine realms he was. At that point, though, none of it mattered. He didn't care. He had survived for so long now, but he was so tired. Each new daybreak brought with it the constant, heart wrenching pain of hope, that 'maybe today' he'll escape, he'll win the cat and mouse game he had been thrust into. And by the time the third sun made it into the sky, he had lost all hope once more. So, when he wasn't drowning in despair and dark, dark, thoughts of perhaps…not caring about even the 'essentials', he was angry, bitter. He used that as fuel to push through day by day, though as they had that afternoon, his dark moods sometimes made him lose valuable time, locking him in a deep, deep hole in his head.

After the first few weeks, when he had watched his company on the planet slowly dwindle until it was only him and it, things had been pretty static. There was just him and it, doing their daily routine of hunting and pursuing. However, he could feel something on the air. A tinge of magic or some alien energy (everything about this place sung foreign and extinct) salted the ever so slight breeze. He did not know what it was doing, but he knew that hint was for him. He had tasted the same stench when he had first arrived, and each time a singular prey had arrived following him. It was letting him know that he had a small break from the constant running….and that he wasn't going to be alone for long. Well, he knew where the lurking predator liked to have its prey delivered. He could stake it out, set a trap for the fresh meat. He would be taking out another potential threat and saving the poor creature from his own damned fate. As the Midgardians would say, 'Two birds, one stone.'

He carefully picked his way over the forest floor, and set about making a rope trap he had learned centuries ago. Once that was completed, he found the tree with the best vantage point (his host was courteous enough to allow him a good view of his incoming playmates) and shimmied up into the high branches. He settled cautiously on the wide part of a branch, and kept tight hold of his hand carved spear. A drop of sweat slid across his forehead and into his good eye. No matter. He was asleep in under ten seconds.

This time, the morning was not going to bring a stab of hope as he would be slitting the throat of whatever poor soul was summoned here. With the sun would come only another threat, and another part of his soul would abandon him. He was slowly becoming the monster everyone said he was.

AN: So, just a little taste. Scope out the interest. I love reviews! ;) So, please comment!