Kori: Hello fans! I decided to do something other than Yugioh for once! It's kind of funny that every oc I've created since Thor came out has been with Thor, but my one and only Avengers fanfiction is a romance with Loki. Haha. Or am I the only one who thinks that?
Anyway, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, Thor, or Loki...yet
Fallen: Chapter One
It was so dark. He was blind, he had to be. He touched his face with one hand to make sure his eyes were open. He thought they were.
Oh. They were. Then why couldn't he see anything? Had they blinded him? Taken away his sight, so he couldn't see where the next round of torture would come from?
He felt his pulse quicken, blood pounding in his ears. His chest tightened, his breath came in short gasps.
He tried to sit up, and was met by a mind-shattering wave of pain from his chest. He clawed at the material covering him with both hands, quickly realizing that the fabric was thoroughly soaked. He brought a trembling hand to his nose.
The irony smell that reached him, made him tremble. It was blood and if the pain was anything to go buy, it was his own.
Just as he began to panic completely, his sharp ears caught the slightest rustling. Then footsteps and murmuring voices. Suddenly, a scraping sound joined the noise. Metal against metal.
Shivers traveled up his spine as the sounds grew closer.
A searing light lit the room. He screwed his eyes tightly shut against the painful light.
After a few moments, he allowed himself to open his eyes. It hurt, but quickly adjusted.
He let out a small prayer of gratitude that he was not blind. The feeling lasted less than a second though.
Three large, deformed creatures shuffled into the rooms, powerful weapons in hand, followed by a tall, proud figure cloaked in black. The cruel face of the man, the leader, was twisted into a sadistic smile. "Hello, Loki," came the raspy purr that froze Loki where he was.
Thanos stepped slowly, delibratly, toward a wall from which hung every instrument of torture imaginable. Loki watched as Thanos fingered a hooked blade that seemed to be his favourite. He turned it over in his hands, turning to his victim.
Loki bit the inside of his cheek to keep from whimpering in fear. He tried to concentrate. 'Please, AllFather,' he prayed,' Let me have enough today. Please.' He stared at the blade as it came closer. 'And if I dont...'
The blade stabbed into him, sliding through the skin and muscle like it was warm butter. It slipped up his chest to his shoulder, bright red blood spilled from the cut and stained his pale skin.
'Let me die.'
Loki bit his lip so hard his teeth went through. A salty-copper taste filled his mouth. He couldn't help it anymore. He screamed in absolute agony.
How long had he been here? Weeks? Months?
Long enough that almost every inch of his skin was marred with these never-healing wounds.
He couldn't last much longer. He had to escape. Escape or die.
Now the blade was gone, he was allowed a moment to breathe as Thanos prepared the next torture.
Loki closed his eyes and retreated inside his mind. He felt a bit of familiar magic at his fingertips. Thanos had sealed off most of his power, but Loki had managed to retain this. And now he had enough power, he hoped.
He didn't care where he ended up. Not Asgard though, they would find him like they did last time. He let the power engulf him. He was begining to disappear, he felt himself getting lighter.
He heard Thanos shout, the roar fading as he fell away from the realm.
He was falling for hours, or for mere moments. The sensation of the fall was not entirely unpleasant. It was far preferable to the torture, at least.
The numbness turned to cold and pinpoints of light appeared above him.
Loki blinked, wondering what realm he was in. He twisted his head to look at the ground rising to meet him. Giagantic structures blurred by him. He wasn't prepared for the pain when he hit the ground.
Every still-bleeding cut on his body screamed and Loki was sure he heard a cracking sound that was probably his ribs. Spots danced on the edge of his vision and his conciousness faded.
He struggled to blink, to look up and see what was around him. His hand slipped on the filthy ground beneath him. A horrible stench wafted toward him. Loki heaved, his stomach trying to empty itself of nonexistent items.
Tears blurred his vision. He blinked and turned his face toward the lit end of the alley he had landed in. A metal thing raced by. A car.
So, he'd come back to Midgard. At least he was slightly familiar with the place. He would figure out everything eventually. Shelter, sustinence, he would survive. But first, he needed to rest. 'Just a quick nap,' he thought tiredly, the unconciousness taking him over.
Jeanette stepped quickly through the dimly lit maze of alleys. One hand gripped her purse tightly and the other rested on the can of mace in her pocket. Both items helped to slightly calm her natural paranoia.
She sighed, quickening her pace. She'd had to stay and work overtime cause that damn Laurie couldn't be bothered to make her shift on time.
Her eyes narrowed and she grit her teeth. Her fists clenched slightly.
At least she was almost home. That was a calming thought.
Her foot caught something and her ankle twisted. She went down hard on the dirty concrete.
"Ow," she said, pushing herself to her feet and flipping auburn hair out of her face. She looked over at what she had tripped on. No, not what. Who.
It was a man passed out on the ground. He was clothed in leather and some sort of armor looking thing. "Was there a fucking comicon in town or somethin'," she muttered, leaning down to get a closer look.
She noticed a red tinge to the metal and that parts of the loose green fabric were stained. 'Oh, shit,' she thought. 'He's bleeding.'
She crouched and turned him toward her. He had a shallow cut across his forehead that was bleeding slightly.
'Shit, What do I do?' she thought. She couldn't think of what to do. She sat him up and draped his arm around her shoulder. She braced herself and stood up. She could at least bandage his wounds a bit.
She stumbled into the apartment building. The elevator had a sign plastered to it. "Out of order," she read aloud, then let out a string of creative profanties.
She struggled up five flights of stairs, pausing once or twice to catch her breath.
Finally she reached her apartment. She opened the door and stumbled inside. She laid the man on the couch and went to the bathroom. She got a few rags, some water and several rolls of bandages.
She returned to the living room and then bit her lip, unsure of how to go about this. She finally resigned herself to peel some of the fabric away from his bloodstained skin. The armor was attached by leather straps and buckles. She struggled to undo a few of these and finally bared his chest.
She gasped at the sight of the mutilated chest. Several gaping cuts stretched across the skin. Blood leaked from all of them. Jeanette gulped and carefully wiped the blood and dirt away from the cuts. She placed a small bit of medicine on them and wrapped his chest with the bandages. She did the same with the wounds on his arm and forhead. She noticed some cuts on his pants.
She peeled his pants away, blushing slightly as she did so. She wrapped the wounds on his legs and went to her room. She searched one of her extra drawers and found a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. She put them on him as quickly as she could and placed a blanket over him.
She went to her room and got into bed. She was such an idiot. Bringing a complete stranger into her house when she had no clue who he was or why he was so badly hurt anyway.
The paranoia built up, refusing to calm down until she grabbed a pocketknife from her bedside table and slipped it under her pillow, just in case.
Just in case.
Kori: Well, thank you for reading. I hope you review and tell me what you think.