DISCLAIMER:I do not own The Avengers. Or Thor... If I did then Loki wouldn't be evil! Anyway. This will contain. A LOT of whump. Loki whump to be exact. It features all of the Avengers and of course, Loki. First person point of view. Pay attention to the headings say whose point of view it is. Rated for violence, more violence, and innuendo of rape. If you think it needs a higher/lower rating then tell me. I'm bad at selecting ratings. If you read please review! Not for the squeamish! The chapter is shorter than the others I have. Sorry. I will update every day or so.
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LOKI POV
My real punishment for my invasion of Midguard was that I became mortal and was forced to live on Earth until Odin - I refused to call him father- decreed I had learned my lesson. And by that, he meant until I earned forgiveness. I suppose he meant I was supposed to feel guilty and responsible for everything that had happened, and to go apologize to the Avengers first thing. Well, I did that. And it most certainly did not make a difference. The raw hatred in their eyes told me I would never be forgiven.
That was two months ago.
My head was pounding when I woke, everything around me pitch black and strangely cold. I wondered how I could actually feel the cold, until I remembered that Odin had practically stripped and rewrote my DNA to make me 100% human. At least I wasn't a hybrid frost giant. Now I was just my own monster.
I could almost imagine my breath fogging the air and I wondered where I was.
Last thing I remembered was drowning my guilt and pain in glass after glass of some mortal wine until the swirling darkness of unconsciousness welcomed me home.
Well, that explained the headache. Or hangover, they called it.
Now, where am I? I tried to move my head but my arms felt strangely heavy. No, not heavy. Something was preventing them from moving. The try only woke a burning ache in my back and shoulders and a chaffing throb in my wrists. I could move my legs but not very far. It took me a long moment to realize my arms were tied over my head and I was sitting on the floor. I tried to stand to relieve the pressure on my shoulders, but my legs refused to take any weight and the jostling movement only made it hurt worse. I sucked in a breath, tried to focus, and grabbed at the bindings - chains, I realized - trying to pull myself up. That sent a vicious couple of tendrils down both arms and into my already sore shoulders, enough to make me groan out loud and sink back down.
No sooner had the noise escaped my throat when a blinding light flashed on. I flinched, shutting my eyes and pressing my face into one arm as I waited for my weak human eyes to adjust. I had long since grown used to the faults and limits of being mortal, but that didn't mean I had to like it.
When the blurriness went away I recognized a tall shape standing before me. Focusing, I bit back a startled gasp. It was the strangest thing I ha d ever seen. The man - I assumed by the height an build - was dressed in all black clothing, including an oversize black leather jacket. His face was a white mask - similar to something seen on Halloween - with huge perfectly circular eyes and an O for the mouth. There was a hood over the mask that prevented me from seeing any detailed features of the person. In his hands was something long, slender and grayed at one end. It took me a moment to recognize the whip, but I felt cold dread and fear enter my heart at the sight of it.
"Hello, Loki," A disembodied, computerized voice said. My mouth felt dry. I couldn't even begin to form words to respond. How long had I been here?
My kidneys either weren't working or I hadn't been here for too long because I hadn't wet myself yet, and nor did I feel the need. My vote was for the latter. Alcohol was a dehydrator, so my constant thirst would get even worse in the coming hours if I didn't get something to drink - like water. But I couldn't quite ask that of my...abductor?
When the man approached me, I tried very hard not to shrink back. Instead, I stared him full in the face, trying to see something behind the mask. All I knew was A.) the man was too big to be any of the Avengers, and B.) Odin should be able to get me out of this. I'd learned my lesson. The mortals were, basically, gods without magic. And I never even wanted to rule... I just wanted to be somethingworthy in the eyes of my... family. And not just Thor's little brother, either. But now I am the devil who tried to destroy the world. Not a great title either.
"How does it feel to be human now?" The voice hissed.
The man reached up and grabbed the other end of the chain I was tied to and dragged it down. Pain woke in my back and shoulders and especially my wrists as I was forcibly lifted off of my feet to the point where I couldn't even touch the ground with my toes. I couldn't stop the pained gasps and whimpers from escaping, but I could hear the low, cruel chuckle of the other man.
I glared.
He walked over to me and seemed to look over my body. Then he stepped back.
"Mary Heath. Age 34. Female. School teacher. Killed in the New York Invasion," the man said. My eyes went wide with alarm. I knew the name. I knew all of the others that went with it, too. I spent every night thinking about each of those people and their lives. Revenge? That was what this was?
I wanted to try and reason with him, to beg and apologize, but it was too late. The whip lashed brutally against my stomach, easily striking through the thick clothing of my sweatshirt beneath it. I cried out, my body arching away from the whip, but I only succeeded in further wrenching my shoulders.
"John Creed. Age 28. Male. Father of a daughter born two days after he was murdered."
This time, the frayed end of the whip lashed open a welt just over my collar bone. I screamed and wished with everything in me that this was all just a nightmare. But I didn't wake up. Instead, the whip came down against and again as the man read off names, ages, genders, and something about a victim that I was responsible for killing. And some part of me knew that I deserved every single thing that came at me. Even as the whip cut open bloody slashes over my ribs. Even as it burned through the flesh under my arms. Even when I was twisted brutally around so the whip could reach my back. Even as one shoulder popped out of place and was forcibly rammed back in. And even when my torso was littered with scars beneath my clothing and dripped with blood. AT some point, what was left of my rational mind realized the man was repeating the names. The despair grew until I was swallowed whole by unconsciousness.