N/A: So I got all emotionless and stuff, and needed to write something. So I wrote this nice little torture story about Loki.
Loki as well as anything Marvel related, unfortunately, does not belong to me. D:


Death would be peace compared to this. A luxury that he would not feel; a gift he would not receive. How he longed to feel Death's presence, to be whisked away from this torture, from this pain.

Pain. No words could ever possibly describe the pain. The pain of being lost, of being tortured, of knowing that he was completely and utterly worthless. The pain that flowed through him was overpowering; encasing him in a trap full of emotion, and had no intention of ever letting him out. It pained him in knowing that he deserved this. That there was no alternative life in which he would not be tortured for his crimes, for his mistakes. For being a monster. A monster that he never knew was there; that had grown up inside of him and had come spilling out so quickly that there was no way he could have possibly stopped it, and it would not stop coming out. No matter how desperately he tried, it always refused to become dormant once more, for once the monster had first had its own taste of power, surely it could never leave it again. He learned to except this; embraced this. And tried to manipulate the monster into doing what he wanted too. What a fool he was, in believing he could control such an incredible force such as this. The force that was himself, and his own cruel, twisted, lost mind.

"Let me die, let me die," he would plead and beg. But they ignored him, for his pain was their dessert. The pain of others to them was like a treat that was rarely received, and once received, it was devoured slowly, so that they may savor every single second of the pain that they knew they were causing. Other being's pain was their obsession, and their master was sure that they would have it.

How foolish were they, thinking that his monster would not strike out at them too.

The monster inside him had finally snapped, had had enough of the pain and the torture, and it's other side's longing for Death. It killed them all, one by one, slowly as they had tortured him, not caring how much he got hurt in the process.

Revenge. How good it tasted, especially when it was placed upon his own tongue. How he had longed for revenge upon those whom had kept him here for so long; had tortured him into wishing for the luxury of Death.

But his triumphs were short lived and the taste of revenge slowly turned sour, and into the taste of bitterness and hatred. So long had Loki Laufeyson begged and pleaded for Death, but once he finally found an escape from torture and pain, that Death finally chose to bring him under his wing.

End.