For those who have seen the movie, what happens to Killmonger doesn't take place in this story. Hope you have fun reading it.

"Blood Spilled"

He really had to travel to the boonies of Bolivia just to find her.

A crackle of lightening lit the black sky. Instantly Erik Killmonger recognized her from the wanted photos he'd seen on the news. She sat beneath a tattered canopy that wobbled beneath the whipping wind. He was certain the poles keeping it in place would uproot if the wind hit it hard enough.

He pulled the drawstrings of his hoodie a little tighter and did a quick jog over to her. The humidity mixed with the rampage of hot rain mixed with the stank of pig shit made it impossible to draw proper breaths. This woman better have been worth the trouble of finding.

"Mind if I sit?" Erik nodded to the open space on the picnic table beside her. He joined her atop the wooden rectangle regardless of what answer she may have given. He eyed the bottle of Don Julio in her hand. "We drinking to kill the pain or are we celebrating?"

She kept quiet.

He didn't take the obvious message. "Can't say I blame you for enjoying the solitude. We never get this type of quiet back-"

"My answer is no." She took a swig from the bottle of alcohol that was three quarters of the way done. He could barely see her through the thick abundance of curls framing her face, but he could identify the annoyance in her low voice. "Now kindly fuck off."

"It don't work like that." He appreciated that she was direct. Small talk was for awkward white people. "I got mud on my huaraches. You're gonna listen to me."

"Blah blah blah I need you to help me blah blah blah join me in some cockamamie bullshit blah blah blah let's save the day." She gave a dry laugh at the end. "Sound about right?"

"Don't tell me I didn't get to you first," he said. "Let me guess, Nick Fury?"

"He was second in line. You're number seven."

"Damn," he said. "Lucky me."

"Now's the part where you offer me money right? That's what Stark did. Came in with his stuffy three piece suit and his smarmy attitude," she hiccuped. "Acted like the world owed him something."

"Money? Nah, I'm not going to offer you that." The value of a dead president didn't compare to everything she could have if she just said yes to him. "But I can secure you a seat at the throne."

There was a pause before she broke into cackles that echoed in the dark and rumbled like thunder. Tequila was wasted onto the dirt ground as she couldn't control her body that flailed with every laugh. She thought him a fool. If only she knew how serious he was being.

"I gotta get the fuck outta here." Her bare feet sunk into the mud as she stood. "You killing the vibe."

"Think it over for me."

"You see them doors right there." She pointed to the small hotel Erik learned she'd been hiding out in. "As soon as I go through that door right there, I'm gonna forget this conversation ever happened. That's a certified promise. And if I ever see you again, you'll regret it. If you tell anyone you saw me, I'm fucking you up."

Her promises meant nothing to him. The world already thought him dead. He didn't want to risk outing himself anymore than she did. Rather than tell her that he kept still – watched the rain cleanse the earth. He wasn't going to beg her to stay or follow her. They'd be seeing each other again. Regardless of her threats.

"You be careful out there," he said. "Be sure not to get the chip on your shoulder wet."

Rain soaked through her sundress as she made her way to leave him in the middle of nowhere. Erik watched the way she walked. It wasn't graceful by any means. Chin up, squared off shoulders that were pulled back, she was a warrior. Hard and rough. Good.

"I ain't looking to save the world." He called out to her. "I want to start a war."

She cocked her head in his direction. "What's your name?"

He smiled and tossed the hood off his head. Finally he had her attention. "Erik Killmonger."