If, that is the question upon our lips with this tale. This crafted story is one of a young woman's imagination and creativity. She has mastered this over in her mind and it has racked her brain with the will of trying to establish this tale. But now it is time to place all that passion to paper and create hopefully a masterpiece.

If, is now what we shall return to. What if Loki did become king of our planet? What if the avengers failed and were cast into the pit of shadowy death? Only to leave us to the mercy of the reign of our new sovereign lord. Lets explore that shall we? Take my hand and follow me...

Chapter one-A nightingale's calling

It had been 15years since that fateful day, the end as it was known by lower class mortals. The end to peace, civilisation and above all hope. 15 long years had passed the earth and her people were completely struck down by poverty, war and crime. At first those who had survived the war believed themselves lucky, they were wrong. The old, weak and sick were sent off to a mass culls in the west, they were nuked. Then the food shortages came into effect, basic living needs were cut off water and such things were now gone from their daily lives. People were either forced into crime with make shift weak gangs or go back to our old roots of farming the land for a living. All in all every mortal old, young rich or poor had to pay taxes to the new king. The punish for breaking such a law was death, slow, painful death.

The king had foreseen the mortals greed and knew money equalled power over the earth and thus he used it wisely to control and govern us. In the end the upper classes were almost destroyed and those that remained were struck under the magic of the great kings power. They were his puppets on strings and did his bidding without second thought. The rest of us lived in a dull existence of craving basic needs to live day by day. The cities and towns of the earth were falling into ruin and were being engulfed by mother nature herself. Man kind had to once again live with nature rather then rule it, as it had done for many decades before. Only the great palaces remained for the kings pleasure such as the white house, Buckingham palace and a favourite of his Hampton court. He even had his own palaces and castles constructed in his name to portray the vast amount of power and control he did behold over us. The religions of the earth were diminished and replaced by the worship of the great King. He was a god in his own right and the religious houses were converted for the masses to worship at his feet only. Any other faith was heresy and the result was yet again death.

Mortals were given Identifications numbers tattooed upon their right wrists, the soldiers would scan this number upon their devices and all your information would be shown to them in the blink of an eye. For example name, age, race, crimes etc. It was something the God king had learned from reading Hitlers Mein Kampf. There were concentration camps for the criminals, weak, old and sick who would slave away until death in mines, construction and many more horrors. Many criminals were gangs of rioters trying to free the earth from the tyrant king but had miserably failed in doing so. The technology of the 21st century was not all gone, but only available for a certain upper class few including the king himself. Of course you could try and purchase a phone or TV from the black market but being caught in the process would lead you to the scaffold. This was now a dangerous world for mortals one of control, slavery and lingering death.

She had finished a long days work and now was running with glee to her own place of peace and harmony in a world of corruption and doom. She ran through the busy streets of people who were scampering round like ants. She tore down the tiny alleyways and did not even think to wear shoes against the wet and muddy soil. But the cold oozyness felt soothing on her tired soles. People were calling from make shift market stalls and trying to make a honest days work. This was a tough life. But nether the less she did not care for she would be free of it in a while, but only for a short amount of time. She raced through a wooded over grown area that was a mesh of brambles and trees. Their thorns and branches clawed at her and did their best to slow down her hast. But it was nothing short of a failure. for she did not think of the thorns or twigs against her skin. She just wanted the peace and quiet of her own company. She found herself in a overgrown wheat field and in the middle of it, tucked away from prying eyes was a old abandoned ware house. Free of mortals, free of soldiers and free of the world itself. She took a deep breath and dashed as fast as her tiny feet could carry her, to the broken window in which she was to carefully climb through.

As she made her way through the wreckage of the broken window, she fell face first and rolled onto the dusty floor. She gave a slight grown and ignored the pain. She mounted to her feet and scanned the giant derelict hall. Nothing but the dust and pigeons to keep her company. With that she sighed and placed a tiny bag of money which was fastened tightly round her waste into a ting gap within the floor boards of forgotten factory. With that she began her games.

She gave a deep breath and as she exhaled instead of tired wheezy breath escaping her lips, she instead ushered a most heavenly sound. It echoed through out the building and into the field outside. It was powerful, warm and soft like something out of a fairytale. Her voice was goddess like and made souls tremble in its wake. The birds were disturbed and took to flight in a frenzy of fear. Zooming through the air like rockets through the cracks and wholes in the walls and ceiling. She thought nothing of it and carried on her sweet aria. It was O mio babbino caro a great powerful and sorrowful aria. About a young girl begging for her father to allow her to marry the man she loves. She had no orchestra to back her up and add to the beauty of her soprano vocals, but alas she did not need it. Her stunning voice carried her so well. Once she had completed that sweet aria she started another Nussum dorma and then another Der Holle rach and finally ended up singing madam Butterflys One fine day in English. Little did she know her voice had caught the attention of some one or some kings ear.

As she sang she acted out the parts of the characters so well, it was if she believed she was on stage at the royal Albert hall or opera house. She displayed such woe and beauty entwined within her deeds and voice, it was overly breath taking. Her face displayed such raw emotion, her body danced across the hall like a fairy. All mixed with the ecstasy of her voice she was a sight to see. And from the shadows he was watching. Sneaking, hunting and almost entranced. He transported to one point of the hall to the over without as little as disturbing her one woman show. He watched and listened like a radar, scanning every note, watching every move and taking it all in.

She came to the end of her musical performance and collapsed to the floor as if to re-enact the suicide of madam butterfly. Her tiny limbs scrawled out on the ground, her gown lacing her flesh and her blonde long locks gracing her head. She laid there for a second or two and only made movement when she heard clapping coming from behind her. With fear and embarrassment she got to her feet not realising who was applauding her. She turned to face this being and brushed her fair hair from her angelic face. His clapping was not for her benefit, but for his he was almost mocking her. His smile was cruel, harsh and above all cold against his bluey green eyes that flared like fire. His pale skin made them stand out all the more with his jet black hair combed back. He was wearing his famous suit and dressed to impress and express his own power. He looked cruel, he looked evil but he also looked beautiful. "Well that was, shall we say entertaining", he sneered with glee. She was stunned like a deer in head lights. She was trapped in fear and could not move nor dare speak. She stood there staring, trembling and fearing for her own life. He slowly wondered around the dank hall, but it was almost as if he glided. He was disgusted by the hall and even by her but not her voice. For it had been years since had heard something over then war, screams and death. Years since he had heard beauty, sorrow and power in its most raw form. He had decided that he would have it, take it and steal it. Only such a voice was fit to grace only him, no one else for he was above every one else. But it would mean taking the mortal, the filthy mortal. They disgusted him so much, that would rather see them struggle and strive in torturous agony. He would often laugh as he put mortals to death by impalement or burning at the stake. He had read many historical mortal books on tyrants such as Vlad the impaler, Henry VIII, Ivan the terrible, Adolf Hitler and Bloody Mary Tudor. They had taught him so well. He loved to leave mortals rotting corpses on display to express his power and to show that the same fate would await any mortal that dare to defy him.

But alas he wanted that voice, it was to be his and only his and if he had to take a vile mortal then so be it. She was still stranded in fear before him. The only movement she did behold was that her blue crystal eyes followed his every movement. If she was to die she rather he do it sooner then later to free her of this agonising world he had crafted. "What is your name, girl?" he hissed. Making brief eye contact. She hesitated and almost stuttered the first letter. "L...L...Lucrezia" It was almost a faint whisper but the god king did hear it. It was a strange name but a beautiful one. She was named after the infamous Lucrezia Borgias. She shared the same beauty in flesh and voice. Her personality was also graced with inner beauty. But that was also her greatest weakness. With her name now known she knelt before the king, glancing to the ground.

"Forgive me my lord". But before she could finish her plea of innocence two soldiers appeared out of no where and dragged her outside. She was terrified as they dragged her away, she tried to get to her feet but they were too strong. There was no use struggling. She was thrown into the back of a black van. She let a yelp of pain as she made contacted with the vans interior. As she was locked in within the darkness she banged and screamed. There were no windows for her to see, she was in darkness. She screamed like a banshee as tears swamped her face. "Your grace, show mercy, show mercy", she wept. The God King stood by the van, leaning against the doors at the back and smiled at her cries, and could almost smell the salt of her tears. He softly whispered "sleep now my child", with that she collapsed into a terrifying nightmarish slumber. His magic was strong to the point it was terrifying.

"What's with the mortal my lord?", his advisor questioned respectfully. As the God King made his way to his glorious black stallion he answered truthfully. "She will be my bird in a cage, my little pet". He mounted the stead and rode with the rest of the cavalierly to his palace. The night was drawing in now. And the warm summer sun was setting and taking the warmth with it. The God King was residing at one of his own crafted palaces in the midsts of the fresh country side, away from mortals. Where he could read and study spells in his own company.

Chapter two- The red dressed doll

She awoke in a golden cage that was basically a giant bird cage. It was embarrassing, there was nothing but a bowl of water and loaf of bread to act as sustenance. She had a haggard blanket to keep herself warm. The cage however did not hang like a bird cage it was upon the ground in a giant golden hall. The hall was massive and was fit not only for a king but a god. There statues of the god king planted in the walls. The ceiling was of stain glass which she could see the stars and moon looking down upon her. She found herself in a red crimson dress. It was a corset with a floor length skirt in the Tudor style. Her arms were bare to keep her ID number on show to show where she was ranked. The corset was so tight she felt she could barely breath. Her bosoms were pushed up and looked so perked and firm. Her hair flowed down long blonde, it was curly and wavy like mermaids hair. Her face had been painted with make up, blood red lips, rouge cheeks and with her blue lagoon eyes smothered in black eye liner. She felt like a doll, used and abused.

She did not have to wait long before the giant golden doors opened to reveal her captor. He standing there smirking, and with grace and poise he made his way to her. The doors closed behind him and they were truly alone. She stood behind the bars clutching them tightly. Her heart raced with her breath, fast pace and fear stricken. He stood before her, over powering but yet so handsome. She could feel his ice cold breath against her warm chest. Her breasts raised quickly as she struggled to breath in the bones of the corset. He looked down upon her, but he now had a new torture toy to torment and abuse at his will. So all in all he was happy with his doll. She was young, fresh, talented and beautiful. She could withstand the evil he had in store for her.

"Do you know who I am", his voice had a softer tone to it now. She slowly nodded her eyes wide like dinner plates. She was still in shock. "then answer me, mortal". He had kept the same smirk from when he had entered the hall and it made her feel uneasy. It was a murderous smile with all the charm of Satan. She finally took the courage to answer him. "Your my King, my god", She waited for death but it never came. She had expected him to burn her alive or to rip her heart out with his bare hands. But nothing. Just his cruel smile. "Good". He looked her up and down and found her satisfactory for a mortal peasant. "Your duty is to sing for me and only me", his voice had gone from soft to sharp as a blade. But she took heed and nodded in submission.

"Do you wish to come out"? He slowly stepped away almost like a shadow. His back was to her as he waited for her reply but she remained deathly silent. He slowly turned back and in no time the lock on the cage was undone. She jumped slightly but not enough to stir annoyance. With that she pushed the tiny cage door and stood out in the hall. He sat upon the steps that led to his throne and looked upon her, with a strong gaze that was enough to halt a raging ball in its tracks. "Sing", he demanded. "What song or aria do you request your grace". Her voice showed such fear but also respect, it portrayed that she knew her place. "Any of your choice". The words were yet again sharp and cold as ice. She took a deep breath and sang Vissi d'arte from the opera Tosca. The entire aria was a plea of mercy and she felt it was suitable for the moment. She was begging for mercy in the best way she knew how, her voice. As she filled the hall with wonderful noise the God king relaxed and closed his eyes. He did not listen but absorbed the sound she was creating before him. She wanted to complain of the tight corset as it was preventing her exhaling with support. But she dare not for fear of her own life. The sorrowful notes reminded him of his own betrayal at the hands of his so called Father and brother. The pain written in the lyrics gave way to the memories of the shadowy past.

"Enough" broke her voice like glass against concrete. She stood still yet again like a doll and awaited the next command. "Come here", his eyes pieced her soul, and she followed his every command like a dog with its master. She stood before him and his face turned bitter and almost engulfed in rage. "Do you not like the dress". He spat like a snake with venom. She was frozen to the spot and could not bring herself to to answer him. "Well do you?", he growled. "Or is to tight"? She was stunned yet again could he read her mind? Was he that powerful? "You pathetic girl, I am a god I can read your mind like a book". He stood up angry and wrathful. "Fine then you can waste away your days here naked as the harlot you are". As the god king marched off the red dress has turned into blood against her naked flesh. She was in complete shock and fell to her knees in tears. She tried to wipe the liquid away but it had stained her. The doors slammed with a thud and she ran into her cage and wrapped herself in the old flimsy blanket. Yet again she was left alone in darkness.

Chapter three- torture the child