There were five thousand sensations assailing him at once. Taunting him, jeering, ridiculing, mocking, scolding, berating, hissing, despising.
And then one.
Horror.
What had been his final words to her?
"You are not." He whispered them to himself in the absolute stillness surrounding him as he stood to his feet and struggled to breathe properly.
He gazed out of his cell but could see nothing. His face bore no expression, but from within his soul begged pitifully. Suddenly, something snapped, and the horror was replaced with loathing for himself.
He was a fool.
She was his mother, and had always loved him in spite of his grievous faults.
He was wrong.
She had been right.
He wanted her back in his cell, to beg forgiveness.
She could not be dead.
He longed to die in her place. He would have if given the chance.
She was gone, to nevermore return.
He was utterly lost. There was nothing forcing him to grasp onto that faintly flickering light within his soul.
He screamed, and did not care if all the Realms could hear his anguish.
A/N: Well, this is what happens when you stay up till 4 in the morning and listen to "Into Eternity" from Thor: The Dark World. I have no idea why I wrote this, but I did. Turns out, Loki's darkness really appeals to me, haha. Please tell me what you think and if I'm worthy enough to write more drabbles of similar types! (This one is called "Emotions", which might be the center of a couple of the drabbles.)
WH