Darcy tossed about under the ugliest blanket she had ever seen. She couldn't see the eye-sore of a pattern, blinds to the hotel room still closed, but she knew it was there. That was enough to make her groan and kick the thing to the floor. Well aware the digital clock still read 4:43am, she rolled out of bed and clicked on the light, avoiding eye contact with the wretched pile of sheets. She soon found her leggings and the blue over-sized knit sweater she had packed for her vacation, pulled them on and was out the door.
Of course, Darcy had forgotton her beach bag. Trudging back, she unlocked the dingy door to room 6 and blindly went about in search of what she wanted to bring to the beach with her. Too dark outside to read, she forwent the book. Too cold to swim, she went without the towel. Lastly, she exhanged her flip-flops for her converse due to the early hour, closed the door after her and headed to the beach.
For real this time.
Darcy crossed the grand 2-lane street that ran parallel to Old Orchard Beach, Maine. She noted this was probably the best time to go to the beach anyway. No people, no seagulls... Except there probably were seagulls but she had forgotten her glasses. Half way to the ocean already, there was no way she was going back just for that. Seeing was overrated at 4:46am.
It must be almost 5am.
Reaching the calm waves, Darcy dropped her bag on the sand. Only then did she realize she had nothing to sit on.
Argh! The towel... This is why I can't go on vacation alone. I can't take myself anywhere.
As Darcy continued to reprimand herself, feeling the cool sand through her thin leggings, she noticed a largish black blob in the water. Well, barely in the water. She was at this same spot just yesterday and there were no rocks this close to the pier.
Weird? What is that?
Darcy looked left and right. Still alone. She decided to investigate.
The blob was most definitely alive. A live man, washed up on shore, to be more specific.
Okay, this is where I freak out.
Immediately, Darcy fell to her knees, trying to push the man just a little further up the beach. Just a few more inches and his head would be out of the water. She never thought she'd curse the waves, but here she was, the bottom half of her body soaking wet, doing just that. The waves paid no mind to her, though, and she couldn't for the life of her make the man budge.
Please be alive, please be alive. Oh, screw it!
Mentally preparing to get salt water up her nostrils and possibly catch a disease from the blob of a man, Darcy quickly started to perform CPR. She really hoped she hadn't taken too much time freaking out.
The man was a mess, his long black hair drenched and stuck to him, half of it sprawled across his face. It just wasn't working for her. She stopped to remove some of the hair so she could try to recussitate him better, the first time having been a fail most likely due to the hair in his mouth or the fact that he was already dead. Then her heart stopped. Not for long, thank goodness for her, but it definitely stopped. She had just put her mouth on Loki.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no!
Darcy jumped to her feet and started to run away. Loki, the apparent God of Mischief, the psychotic supervillain that tried to take over the world was most likely deceased and she had as much as just made out with his dead body. She could not take it. Unless he was alive. Hadn't she just been praying for him to be alive? Praying to whom, she had no idea, for all she knew she had just prayed to Loki? It was all too much. She next did the thing she always did when she couldn't stand something. She stopped standing. Tripping over her own self, she landed not far from Loki's body and started to cry.
Long seconds later Darcy made a decision.
I am not a murderer. He may be, but not me.
Darcy gathered up her body and ran back to Loki's side. Squeezing her eyes shut she lunged forward and gave everything she had into breathing life back into him. It worked.
Loki woke up, with a gasp and immediately spewed liquid out of his lungs onto the sand to his left. If Darcy were to pray to any god again in that moment it would be to thank them for her being on his right.
Loki then noticed Darcy. She could have sworn she saw fear in his blue eyes. But probably not. He was too evil and crazy for that, right? Whatever she saw, it didn't matter because the next thing she knew he had scrambled to his feet and composed himself while she was still sitting in the foam of the waves looking like a beached whale.
"Mortal, if you would be so kind as to direct me in the way of a place to procure clothing," Loki sneered. He looked as menacing as on TV. Except he was in his jammies. Black silk jammies, soaked through and dripping onto the sand as daylight struggled through the sky. It was actually kind of beautiful.
Nope, it was weird. Weird, not beautiful.
"Uhhh..." Darcy maneged to say, pointing towards the town,"That way?"
Loki near rolled his eyes. "How informative," he spat.
"Dude, I just saved your life!" Darcy was truly an idiot. She never did learn to keep her mouth shut.
"Yes, well I thank you, you insignificant piece of bæsj, for doing exactly the opposite of what I would have preferred." Loki then stalked off to... shop?
Mouth agape, Darcy sat there, in the shallow water, unable to believe what he had just said. She didn't know what he had even called her, but she knew he had just claimed to have rathered not survive. The thought was heavy but fleeting as she watched him slink away.
That ungreatful...
"Hey! You! ...Hey!" Darcy shouted. Loki, of course, ignored her and kept walking.
Oh, you want to play, huh?
Darcy hopped to her feet, grabbed her bag and ran to catch up with the man she just saved. Loki, too entitled to quicken his pace in order just to flee, let her catch up with him but made no move to acknowledge her existance beside him. Hurrying along, Darcy had to take two steps for every one of his, but she could manage. She wasn't the one that had almost died. Then the thought occured to her. Loki could kill her. That stopped her dead in her tracks.
Loki couldn't care less what went through the mortal's little mind to make her stop following him, but he knew he had to think fast to make an excuse to turn around to talk to her again. He couldn't have anyone else see him in this state, wet and practically naked. However, Loki was in an incredible amount of pain from the fall just previous and couldn't think half straight so he decided he must not waste energy on scaring this mortal, rather he would be better off to endear her to him so he could get some decent directions to dry clothing. Maybe even a meal... It had been so long... Swivelling on his heel, Loki faced the puny mortal and tried a different approach.
"Apologies, My Lady, it's just that it has been quite some time since I... have been dry. I thank you, truly for saving me, and might wonder if you know of a place where I may rest my head this day?" putting on his best innocent smile, he slowly walks back towards Darcy and placesd his hands together towards her, as if to plead.
"That's more like it," Darcy blurts out, "uh... I m-mean... umm..." she adds, hoping she didn't anger the crazy man. Saving face is something she cares about too, but she also has priorities, like... not dying. "I mean, just kidding, umm... Sir?"
That's better. I'll just toy with this one until she feeds me.
He smiles again, though not fully convincing himself.
Damn, I'm losing my touch...
"Just follow me," Darcy hears herself say.
I can't believe I'm doing this.