A/N: A rehash of my old fic "Cold." This fic is a bit more brutal than the previous version. There is a bit of gore in this fic. Be forewarned. I apologize for any spelling errors or grammar mistakes. I'm not the best writer. Looking for a patient Beta-reader/muse. Please, I'm open to criticism of all types so leave a review/critique. I never really recieve any so I dont know if my stories are well-liked. This fic was inspired by an Amon Amarth song. I had been looking for a way to break my writer's block and one listen to this and it was lifted.
ALSO: In terms of universe, this takes place in the Marvel Multiverse. Although, Ghost Rider , Captain America, Doctor Strange, etc are not mentioned here they do feature prominently in the story.
Disclaimer:I do not own any characters from Marvel's Ghost Rider, Avenger's ,Thor or Doctor Strange. I also do not own the song "Twilight of the Thunder God" by Amon Amarth. This work of fiction was created solely for entertainment and no monetary gain was made.
This was it.
It had to be now.
Thor, the thunder god, gripped the writhing black tongue of the World Serpent.. The large, rancid canyon of a mouth with spikes for teeth snapped again and again seeking to sever its own tongue out. Already frayed nerves and connective tissue marked the beasts rapid progress.
The snake was immense, larger than the main feast hall of Asgaard and several lesser ones put together. Undulating coils as thick as the entire hull of a longship had been rendered useless and cumbersome without the buoyancy of the briny sea water. Those same coils thrashed in frustration beneath Thor who had been outsmarting the Serpent by mere seconds. What it lacked in brains, it more than made up with crushingly brutal efficiency. The Asgaardian dwellings had been leveled all within at least a one-mile radius.
Just like New York….
With gray scales shimmering wetly, the creature had quite literally fallen from the interdimensional rift that the Fate Wolf had torn open. And the army…
It was at the last moment that Thor saw the teeth close shut around where he had once been hovering only seconds before. Outrage sparked in those black, soulless holes. Slit pupils widening in shock and an unfathomable hate. Oh how those eyes burned into Thor. The same contempt that a hunter would see in the most untamable of prey.
It would have to be one strong motion. Thor wasn't sure he could do such a thing. He'd lost blood already and the fighting had worn him down considerably. The fact that he managed to hold the tongue was a miracle in itself.
By some strange chance, while he hovered Thor considered the soulless eyes of the Serpent. So, familiar…He saw Loki. With an inward spasm of disbelief and an overwhelming feeling of guilt, Thor the peered soul of his one-time brother.
Inside those eyes, Thor saw his own beleaguered features harden.
This thing was of Loki, not only in body but in spirit. All those years spent trying to win Loki back from the bring from the brink of darkness were nothing. A waste. He'd tried so hard to show his brother he wasn't alone ; that he could be saved from his own self-created Hell. All the kind words, the loving smiles. It was over.
No more feasts and merriment in the Great Hall.
No more Midwinter warmth promised even in the heart of winter.
The stories. Happiness. Love.
He remembered seeing his brother standing over Heimdal's corpse, gleaming tesseract in hand. Loki, who had brought the boneships of the ancient enemy. So much like that ships of the dark elves but sleeker,faster. Loki's own flagship, "Naglfar." Ship of the Dead.
Block it out.
This isn't happening.
Block it out.
BLOCK IT OUT!
And it was like that Thor lost his temper. The entirety of Asgaard would be enveloped into a remorseless winter by Loki and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
It was time to end it all.
The Golden Child let out an eldritch roar; a sound as old as Creation as he swung his weapon.. A roar of Man against Beast. Creator versus Destroyer. Those seething orbs of nothingness embedded within Jormungand's skull widened betrayed no emotion as Thor pulled the tongue down toward himself.
Instinctively, the Thunderer and Serpent knew it could play out in two ways. The first being that the snake would resist and the tongue would rip as planned. Then, Thor would be helpless. But that would have required thought, planning on the Serpent's part.
This thing was not a calculating, shrewd beast. It did not plan attacks to execute them with decisively cold precision. It was a monster made to crunch and break. The might of its jaws far outweighed the might of its mind.
Jormungand went in for the kill, maw open to devour the diety ; armor, bones, and all.
And so with a final resounding crunch, the skull of the World Serpent collapsed beneath the blow of Mjolnir. Blood sprayed and brain matter spewed while bone splintered in all directions.
With an ear-shattering cry of pain, it collapsed into the gutted skeleton of buildings that was once Asgaard. A tremor shook the ground when the skull hit earth and its jaws stood agape to show its torn tongue.
As Thor landed , he stumbled then collapsed to his knees. The barriers he had put up to block out the decimation fell and reality set in.
Everything was gone. All that he had loved and treasured. It was destroyed. Asgaard had fallen to Loki. Still Thor couldn't believe the destruction around him.
Huge chunks of stone had been torn from the stonework buildings like bones being ripped from a corpse by scavengers. This paired with the gaping craters in the once bright streets made the entire city look like a warzone. Just like the Midgard city…. New York. As if giants had fought on the streets of his home…but they had.
Fires burned hungrily eating and engulfing anything combustible.
He didn't know how the fire had started. In all honesty, there was no telling. He tried to stop the barrage of images form the battle. Swirling flames burning every color. But most dangerous was the black that withered and killed everything it touched.
He remembered seeing his brother standing over Heimdal's corpse,gleaming tesseract in hand. Loki, who had brought the boneships of the ancient enemy. So much like that ships of the dark elves but sleeker,faster. Loki's own flagship, "Naglfar." Ship of the Dead.
"THOR!"
The cry shot through his being like a jolt of lightning as the crier seemed to drown. The wet gurgle he knew so well that accompanied grievous wounds swallowed the sound. His muscles convulsed at the sheer pain in that scream, the tormented growling.
Instantly, Thor knew who that being was. Syf.
"LADY SYF!" he screamed back, somehow forgetting Mjolnir in his hurry.
He needn't look far for the shieldmaiden as she lay on her side shield on the ground and sword in hand. Thor slid to her on his knees, grabbing her gently.
A quick look over his shoulder let him see the streets of Asgard so once full of mirth and sunlight were now cracked. Blood, so much blood flowed down the gutters from broken bodies of men, women and children. When his clouded eyes turned back the woman in his grasp ,Thor pleaded. Yes, pleaded for his friend's life.
"Syf, please awaken. You must hold on!"
But the battle-maiden, felled by an ice-spear through the stomach, merely looked up at him blankly. Her empty brown eyes said much to him despite the hollow look. Guilty. Betrayer. Failure.
A hard spasm squeezed her muscles, making her arch her back in pain. Syf's eyes opened wide,exposing what should have been the whites. Her blood poured from her mouth in thick black streams, some of it landing on his left cheek from her coughing. He'd felt the warm sprinkle of the liquid before on his face and skin but this was different.
It was the blood of his friend.
With one arm behind her head and the other over her hip, the Thunderer looked up at the dark sky. Undoubtedly, the Frost Giant's would seek to put out the fires. It was with a draining feeling that he felt when he realized the battle was over. The Thursar had won. Ancient Prophecy had become reality. His futile glance up at the heavens elicited a cry from within himself.
"Save her! Please, it wasn't supposed to be this way!" But there was no one to hear.
Who did he expect to answer? His father? He vaguely knew of a Midgard diety named simply " God." Jan foster had told him stories of this diety , although most of them he forgot. How would this being know to help him, even if it could? Who did gods pray to?
By now, the screaming and bereaved moans of pain had stopped only to be replaced by a cold wind and hissing sound of doused fires. Snow was beginning to fall.
Suddenly, the girl twitched and began to cough anew. Tendrils of the precious crimson liquid spilled down her chin onto her tabard. A tabard that bore the symbol of his House.
"M…m-mu,"she whispered harshly. More blood tumbled from her pale lips.
"It's alright, Lady Syf." Thor choked. "It's going to be alright."
He tried to quiet the woman but she shook her head.
"Murd…Murderer."
There was no doubt about who she was telling this too. Her cold statement weighed on his mind and heart. Whether it was a clarity of dying that made the woman say this or pure blood-loss hysteria ,he knew the judgement was true.
No longer was he the Golden Child. Everything up till now was solidified the moment that word was uttered from her pale lips. Like a final nail in a suffocating coffin, his best friend had damned him.
Another moment passed, just long enough for him to look into her eyes. Like two yawning pits, they glared at him reflecting his emptiness. Finally she shuddered , then went lax in his grip.
Thor somehow stifled down a sob as hot anger bloomed within him. Gently, he set the battle-maiden on the ground before closing her eyelids.
The fact that she had died in the battlefield and in defense of Asgaard was of no comfort. What did it matter if she defended the realm? This could not change that fact that she was gone and he would see her no more. Suddenly, it struck him like Mjolnir over the head.
All of this bullshit warrior's honor and valor was a complete lie. A warrior's pride and honor didn't protect him in battle nor did it soothe the ones left behind. How many men had he seen fall in battle and whose families were told, "He died a warrior's death." Yet, for some reason, he couldn't let her death be for nothing. While the blood of Asgaard was on his own hands, it was on Loki's too. And Thor was not about to let her death or the death of anyone else go unavenged. His armor was covered in blood and gore ,some of it his own. With shaking legs he stood and reached out a heavily muscled arm.
"Mjolnir," he whispered hoarsely and the trusty weapon came flying though stone and fleeting flames. And despite the inferno that had taken place, he noted in passing that it was truly snow that was falling around him.
"LOKI!" Thor screamed. He knew he would die here today, but he wouldn't be going without his brother.
A silky laughter twittered forth from behind him and the Thunderer quickly spun around. Too quickly and he blinked his blue eyes trying to make the scenery settle into place. It was for this reason that pain stung into his right shoulder blade.
"Oh Brother, Brother." The trickster god clucked his tongue. "What sort of mess have you gotten into now?" Loki's black hair hung long and loose around his shoulders while his dark eyes glinted with humor.
Thor felt his strength fade from his body and Mjolnir drooped to his side eventually to the paved road. His left arm seemed to weight a ton as he ripped out a barbed arrow from his shoulder blade. The arrow had been poisoned. Heat like fever seemed to radiate from his shoulder, spreading to his veins. From there it flowed nauseatingly into his stomach. Now on all fours, Thor choked and gagged. Despite the heavy convulsions wracking his form nothing came up.
"Pathetic," Loki grimaced and turned away. However, before he took even three steps, Thor's voice cut into him.
"Do you really think we didn't love you?!" Thor spoke, his voice was gravelly.
"Our mother …. you were her favorite, Loki. How can you stand there and think we didn't love you?! I would have died for her to look at me the same way she looked at you! You were her life! Her everything!"
The God of mischief turned and glared at his one-time sibling.
"You grow more stupid by the minute…" Loki beckoned forth to someone behind Thor and then the Thunder God was seized beneath the arms.
"Loki, you cannot deny this. SHE DIED WITH YOUR NAME ON HER LIPS!" The Thunder God screamed so hard, with so much anguish his throat ached. The outburst had taken all of his remaining strength. His shoulder muscles and neck ached from holding up his head so he turned his glare to the paved street beneath him.
"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear you say that."
After a few beats, Loki turned around and knelt in front of his brother.
"Look at me." He gripped the blonde man's chin and tilted it upwards.
"Would you like to play a game of pretend?" Green eyes sparkled in mischief while Loki's lips stretched into a thin smile.
"I'm going to pretend that woman, Odin,and you never existed. I will forget about you and I will never think of you again. Now, while I do this you're going to relive every moment of this day, over and over. Doesn't that sound fun?"
Of course, there was no response and Thor hung his head in defeat. He didn't remember Loki walking away or his very own body being flung off the Bifrost.
Unbeknownst to Thor, Hel Lokisdottir stood watching the vengeful exchange. All that could be seen was her face, the rest draped in dark robes. Her body was rotten and in permanent decay. The shriveled flesh was stretched over half of her face exposing her skeleton's grin. Both eyes, the left a vivid blue color and right a blighted off white shade with filmy iris, both those orbs stared at Thor. Next to her stood the Fate Wolf, Fenris. Garm. Protector of the Underworld and Hel's brother by blood. The wolf was larger than any horse ever to carry any warrior of Asgaard and blacker than the darkest night with a muzzle was covered in blood.
The muscles of her jaw visibly tightened in the tears of her flesh. As if sensing her inner thoughts, the large wolf did something very strange. He pressed his forehead into the shoulder of his sister's robes. A surprisingly tender movement for the being.
Dear Sister, please be strong.
The voice of the wolf echoed in Hel's skull. Having no mouth for human speech he relied on mental communication. Despite the attempted comfort in her brother's words she still looked troubled.
"We are the Thursar, my brother. There is no room for pity."
The large wolf gave a very canine-like huff of solemn agreement, something unspoken passing between the two.
For now, and for a long time to come, all the Thunder God would know would be shadows.