A/N: Here's a new series for you guys! This takes place hundreds of years before Thor. I tend to ramble so those of you interested in more details about this series, check out the A/N at the end of this chapter.

Important note: my age-headcanon applies here. Essentially, Asgardians take thousands of years to reach mental maturity, and only about 20 years to reach physical maturity. So Thor and Loki are psychologically in their late teens, early twenties.

Tags (for series): adventure, h/c, gen, no slash, bromance, Loki-whump, some angst, some violence

Tags (for episode): sci-fi elements, all of the above except the violence

The House

- Chapter 1 -

He moved frantically down the corridor, trying this door, then that, then another- none of them would budge. Loki hissed under his breath, then, looking back, felt panic rising in his chest. It was still following him!

Another door, then another. He banged on a few, trying to open them, but as he predicted, none of them moved. He favored his left leg and tried his best to ignore the pain.

The white marble hallways remained silent. His pursuer made no noise and it unnerved Loki more than anything. What could he even call it? He had no words, no name for such a thing; he had difficulty even forming thoughts as to what it could be. Simply calling it a spirit, or phantom seemed ridiculous, he knew it was something more, something indescribable, although he didn't know why he knew. It was an instinct, like the instinct of a child to be afraid of a storm. The irony wasn't lost on him that he had rarely ever been afraid of storms, given what they represented to him.

He crashed into the door at the end of the corridor, although it, too, did not move.

No, no! It was a dead end. Why hadn't he been watching? There weren't any windows in this place, he didn't know where he was, how he had arrived here. And where was Thor, hadn't he been with him on Asgard? His mind was a jumble, he didn't know what to do.

He turned around and braced his back against the door, watching with wide eyes what he felt approaching.

Suddenly, at the corner of his eye, something blinked, like a light. He jumped toward it, desperate to find something to aid him. It was a small panel beside the door on the wall, it glowed with a subtle red light as Loki attempted to discern its purpose. Gazing backward, he quickened his efforts. I still have time, still have time...

As if on instinct, Loki swiped the metal on his right wrist across the panel, just as the door hissed open with a groan and a click. Surprised but relieved, Loki didn't spare a glance behind as he rushed through the door and closed it shut behind.

.

Two hours earlier.

.

Loki awoke with his head pounding, his limbs tired. His eyes were heavy, as if he had slept too long or too little. There was something soft beneath him, although his legs dangled off the side of whatever it was.

"There is a Door open on the fifth flo-"

His eyes opened. He blinked, then blinked several times more as his eyes adjusted to the light.

"There is a D-Door open on the fifth floor."

Loki shook his head and tried to sit up, looking about. What was that? Had he just heard a voice or had he imagined it?

There was an odd crackling sound, then nothing.

Sitting up, he looked around. He was in an oddly shaped room, octagonal, with four doors, each across from each other. The walls were of a white marble, the lights glowing dimly at the lip of the ceiling- although it was still bright. The floor, too, was marble, with gold trims where it met the walls. Large black-marble archways hung over each door and... he finally noticed what he had been laying on, a long flat couch of a deep red. Several other couches sat scattered in the room, as well as a few cushions on the floor. All in all an elegant room, yet-

Odd...

Sitting up further, the god attempted to stand only to fall back down when his head swam. What's happened to me? He jumped a little when a voice filled the room again.

"You- a-are in-" it stopped a moment, "-i-in... There i-is...on the...floor-r-r-"

Loki frowned fiercely at the ceiling since it appeared that's where the voice was coming from.

"Who is that?" he asked the room.

The voice was a woman's, almost...artificial? It didn't continue.

Looking down, Loki frowned at some sort of silver metal that was clasped around his right wrist. What's this? He tapped it and held it to the light, curious as to what its purpose was, and just who had put it on him. After several tries, he quickly realized he couldn't take it off. He pulled at it and strained himself, but it remained, solid and smooth. Shaking his head, he decided to ignore it for now.

Finding his footing, he stretched his legs and began walking around. There wasn't much to the room except for the few couches and the...doors. Should he try one? But which one. He looked between them, they were identical. Like most everything else in the room, they too were white, almost like marble themselves.

Quickly tiring of standing around, and now that his dizzy spell had ended, Loki walked to the nearest door to his left and, carefully, reached out a hand and pulled the gilded handle.

.

Corridors. Lots and lots of corridors. And doors, doors that lined both walls and never seemed to end. Everything here was marble as well, except the doors were of a cherry-colored wood. If Loki didn't know better he would think he was in some sort of palace. There were no windows.

Going back to the octagonal room, he found that the two doors, each to the left and right of the one he had just tried, had similar long stretches of corridors, although one branched off and the other led to a door at the end that wouldn't open.

So, the fourth door...

"There is a-a Door op-pen on the fifth floor," said the artificial woman's voice again, stuttering for a moment.

"Who is saying that?!" Loki screamed to the ceiling, suddenly frustrated. It was clear that the voice was some sort of machine as her inflection was exactly the same as the first time she had spoken those words. That didn't tell him much, except that wherever he was had technology. It also told him something else, that this place, whatever it is, has at least five floors- which meant stairs and...a ground floor, perhaps?

Slightly encouraged, he reached for the fourth door's handle, only to find that it wouldn't open. Hm. Locked? He tried several more times but it wouldn't budge.

He left out the first door he had tried and stopped at nearly every door to see where they might lead. Nothing. Not a single one would open.

"There...D-Door- floor..."

Loki sighed loudly and shook his head. What was that voice? It stuttered and repeated almost the same thing every time. Was it some sort of machine? Whatever it was, it didn't seem inclined to answer him so he ignored it.

The corridors seemed endless. There were no windows, no matter how far he went. His attempt to find stairs proved fruitless and he wondered how large this place could be. And how had he arrived here? He had been in Asgard, in the palace, the last he remembered.

Another handle that wouldn't budge. This was becoming tiresome.

"May-y...help y-you?" asked the voice.

Loki's eyebrows lifted. "Are you speaking to me?" No answer. He waited a moment, then asked, "Is anyone there?"

Again, silence, until, "P-Please m-make...fifth floor. Ther-re...intr-intruder-" It cut off with a strange noise Loki couldn't decipher. What was wrong with the machine? It's words, however, made him nervous. Intruder, it had said. What did that mean? Was Loki not an intruder as well?

"If you wish me to go to the fifth floor," Loki tried, tentatively, "might you direct me to the stairs?" He didn't expect an answer, until it did answer.

"T-To y-your right. A- A-ggg... Two corridor-r-s...then-n left. P-Plea-" Again, it cut off, although he had his answer.

.

The machine's instructions were vague, but he managed to find the stairwell with some backtracking. The stairs were as elegant as the rest of the place, spiraling upward with pale marble and a red wood railing that reflected in the subtle light.

Although this place was serene, it also put Loki on edge given that there seemed to be no end to it- and it was quiet. Too quiet. His light footsteps echoed as if Thor himself were stomping toward him.

Looking up in the stairwell, he couldn't even see a ceiling; it seemed to go on forever. Shuddering, Loki forced himself not to look up as he made his way to the fifth floor. Apparently, he had already been on the ground floor, even if he couldn't find an exit. No matter, perhaps, after he found out whatever the machine was on about, he would return and try to find a way out.

"There is a Door open on the fifth floor," said the machine. "Th-There...an intruder. Ple-e-ease...caution."

Caution? "Why?" asked Loki as he walked carefully away from the stairs into the corridor, which looked exactly the same as the others.

No answer.

He walked steadily, eyeing each door and watching behind in case this intruder might try to attack. Why was he even listening to this artificial voice, anyway? He supposed there wasn't much choice given that he couldn't find his way out. Perhaps, if he dealt with this 'Door on the fifth floor' then the machine might help him. He didn't know what else he could do.

Right when he was about to ask the voice where this open door might be, he saw it. Indeed there was an open door, some distance ahead, on the right.

Hm. Might this room lead to somewhere? And why would the voice care if there was a door open, was that such a terrible thing?

He approached it slowly with deliberate attempts at soundless steps, wondering where this 'intruder' might be. Surely whoever it was was long gone by now?

When he was only a few steps away, the voice spoke. "D-Do not-t enter. Y-You are in-in-n danger. Pl-Please t-turn around."

Eyes going wide, Loki held his breath. He didn't know why, but those words sent a shiver down his spine and froze him to the spot.

"Please turn-n around."

He didn't want to. "What's behind me," he whispered breathlessly.

"Pl-Please run."

Loki ran.

.

Every door, locked! He had soon forgotten the door that had been ajar, suddenly realizing there was nothing he wanted more than to avoid that open door. When he finally caught his breath as he leaned against the wall, he dared a glance behind.

Nothing.

What had he been running from? Yet still, there was an increasing sense of dread, of something waiting just around the corner. It was not unlike being a child again, afraid of something under his bed or waiting in that shadowed corner, ready to pounce the moment he shut his eyes.

Sweat gathered around his high collar and he knew it wasn't from the run. Before he could begin to relax, again the voice in the ceiling asked him, in that ever-polite tone, to run. The voice really wasn't helping, but it was more than that. He knew, somehow instinctively, that there was danger approaching and that if he didn't run something terrible would happen.

Looking behind as he ran- and again seeing nothing -Loki didn't see the sharp drop of the floor suddenly not being there around a corner. He yelped in surprise as he fell, his left ankle and elbow cracking on the marble floor. His eyes watered as he hissed at the pain, although he didn't think he had broken anything. It still hurt so he assumed he had sprained at least his ankle.

"Thank you for the warning!" he screamed to the ceiling, although there was no reply.

He gritted his teeth and looked around, then realized he had fallen all the way back to the first floor. Damn. Why was a huge chunk of the building missing across five floors, suddenly? Looking up, indeed the five levels were missing their floors, although the walls remained intact and, he realized, he might have been able to jump over the expanse if he had been paying attention.

And now he was hurt. Wonderful.

Painstakingly, he got to his feet, although he stayed off his left ankle and flexed his arm, assessing the injury. That one wasn't too bad. Either way, he would heal soon enough, but it might not be as painless a healing if he continued to run around.

Suddenly, the feeling of dread, of being chased returned, just as the voice said, "The in-intruder is on the-the fourth floor..." Loki turned to run. "...the-e intrud-...third f-floor..." He didn't wait to watch, he continued trying doors.

"Are there any doors unlocked in this place?" he screeched at the voice, not caring how his voice squeaked.

"...int-intruder- the...the sec-c-cond fl-"

Loki growled and made his way to a bend in the corridor.

A/N: Yeah, Loki, you just up and hurt yourself already. Okay, that was me. Meanie me.
Chapters within an episode will be updated weekly, give or take a day or two. All future episodes will be updated here, not as separate stories, that way those of you not following me can follow the series by just following this story.

Detailed A/N for series: No worries, readers of my other fics, this is my 'writer's block' fic, meaning I only write it when I'm stuck with the others, or possibly when I'm just bored, lol. I know I'm really bad with updates, so, for this fic, I've made a solemn vow to the gods of fan fiction (honestly!) that I will not begin posting an episode until I've finished it. I've already completed two episodes and the third's almost finished. Even so, I don't want this series to interfere with anything else I write so, I'll tell ya now, there can be long gaps between episodes (could be months). However, the episodes are, more or less, self-contained. They have a main story arc, but each episode is its own story.
I also think I should point out that since I write this fic when I have writer's block, the quality might be...iffy. I'm also trying to ignore my perfectionism so I can write faster (succeeding, so far) but, again, that might bring the quality down a bit. Feel free to point out grammatical mistakes, though!