Disclaimer: I own nothing from Asgard, to Jotunheim, to Marvel. This is purely for enjoyment and I do not recieve any monetary gain from this.

An- I feel like I should give a short note, just because this is my first Loki fic. If you catch any mistakes or feel I'm not living up to Loki's potential, please tell me. The events of this story take place before the movie Thor. Thanks for reading!

In the land of Gods & Monsters
I was an angel, living in the garden of Eden.

.Found.

.

.

"So, how dead are you?" Heather said with a sympathetic smile as she slid into the wooden chair across the table from Violet. She didn't lower her voice, despite the numerous 'Shh!' signs all over the library and the woman behind the circular desk sending the pair of girls a scathing look. Violet pursed her lips and shut her notebook with a quick snap before shoving it into her satchel. She was still furious with her best friend for deserting her and leaving her to fend off a maniac. Without a word, Violet turned and headed toward the glass doors on the right of the circular desk.

"Vi, please." Heather grabbed her wrist, lighter than the way he had two nights ago but the bruises were still there and still painful. She winced and pulled herself free, hoping Heather didn't question why her wrists were purple. She was thankful her parents hadn't asked why she was so shaken up and only accused her of sneaking out to party. If only it had been just that. Now where ever she went she looked over her shoulder just in case he was following her.

His piercing green eyes were burned into her memory and when she closed her eyes at night, he was still staring at her from the edge of her yard, smiling with blood dripping down his mouth, as if he had been ripping apart helpless animals. She still didn't know what to make of what had happened, or if she even wanted to think about it anymore at all.

Heather snapped her fingers in the air and Violet jumped, blinking out of her daze. She had been lost in her own world a lot in the past two days, igniting new questions from her step-mom about how many drugs she was on, exactly. It seemed Heather noticed her distant stare too. "I can see you're still mad...but we freaked out. Jack kept hearing things, saying people were walking toward us from the woods...we thought it was some Satanic cult or something."

"A Satanic cult that rides the curtails of meteorites?" Violet scoffed and slung her satchel strap over her shoulder and turned back toward the library's doors. The woman behind the counter eyed her as she pushed the bar and stepped out into the hot afternoon, Heather right on her heels. "You know we weren't thinking clearly." Her friend said through clenched teeth, as if being high was an excuse for what she did. Violet slowed to a stop with a sigh, knowing that if the situations were reversed, she might have done the same thing...

Biting the inside of her lip, she adjusted the strap on her backpack and turned to Heather's apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I did call you yesterday morning though. Your wicked Step-Mother sounded pissed. Has she cooled down any?"

"No." Violet turned toward the cross-walk. "It's like the more time passes, the angrier she gets. She's even brought me home pamphlets from the hospital about drug addiction." Heather laughed as they crossed the street, heading toward the main square. It was unspoken, but both girls knew they were heading toward Joe's Diner. It was their favorite place and they always shared a milkshake on Mondays. The lunch crowd had gone and the two girls had no trouble finding a booth in the back. They slid into the cracked, red leather seats and shared a giggle about how Jack had been so scared he almost pissed himself as the waitress shuffled over. Heather ordered some fries and both settled on a vanilla shake with extra cherries. "So, Rafe was worried about you yesterday too." Heather said, studying her fingernails.

"He seemed so worried as he sped off into the night." She couldn't help the bitter tone of her voice. After all the flirting during senior year, all the giggles at his stupid jokes, he had never even asked her out to the movies or anything. Now, it seemed he would never ask her out...Especially since she was tainted...

Her own thoughts startled her as Heather launched into how she had ran into Rafe at church but Violet was miles away. She rubbed her forehead surreptitiously and squinted down at the table under her elbows, the menu under the plexi-glass blurring. The foreign thought in her head felt intrusive, as if she had been walked in on in the shower. It left her wrists burning as if her attacker was still holding them in his grasp. She pulled at the strings of braided cord around her wrist she had been wearing to cover the blue and green.

"...he didn't even ask about Jack or anyone else, just you." Heather sounded a bit hurt by her own words as the waitress set napkins and their milkshake down between them.

"Fries are cookin' honey." She smiled, exposing her yellow, smoke stained teeth before moving back to the counter. The bell above the door chimed and the woman greeted the patron behind Violet's back. She was still having a hard time focusing on what Heather had just said, her thoughts jumbled like a knot. Instead of thinking too hard about it, she forced a smile. "Well, serves him right. You should have told him something horrible happened to me so he would feel guilty." She pulled the glass toward her, stuck a straw in it and sipped as Heather did the same.

The blonde sipped at the milkshake and darted her gaze to something over Violet's head. With eyes wide, Heather's mouth hung open slightly and the red striped straw fell from her lips. Violet narrowed her eyes and turned, feeling as if a block of ice had dropped into her stomach. She stared up at the upward turned mouth, the pale face and cold, unfathomable eyes of her attacker. The smile, the ice of his stare, everything was as it had been Saturday night, except his mouth was now clean of blood.

Heather sipped harder, hitting a spot at the bottom of the glass and making that god-awful slurp with the straw as he drew nearer to them. He reached out with his right hand and a chair from a neighboring table slid noisily across the tile floor until meeting his hand. Violet saw it out of the corner of her eye, but she couldn't believe it had happened. He spin the metal chair around and slid into it, resting his elbows across the table.

His clothing had changed since that night and he now wore a black button down shirt, rolled back to his elbows and a pair of dark pants. She couldn't see his shoes, but hoped they were thin enough so that she could use her infamous move on him again. "Hello, again." His accent was as startling as ever; crisp with that strange lilt to his words that sent chills down her spine.

"Leave me alone." Violet growled, gripping the leather of the booth beneath her with white knuckles.

He clucked his tongue and shook his head slightly, feigning disappointment. "So unfriendly. Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

"We aren't friends. Eat shit." She hissed through tightly clenched teeth.

His laugh was cold and it made an easiness swirl through her. The diner had grown quiet and Violet could feel the heat of stares from all around them boring into the back of her head. Even the cook stared from the rectangular window in the kitchen, a timer going off unnoticed behind him. "You have such fire. Something you mortals tend to lack severely. I can't even remember a time a human did not kneel and tremble before me." His words may as well have been Greek or Latin to her. She couldn't understand any of it, or why he kept referring to her as a mortal and human.

He was nuts, and now he was here...stalking her in front of people who had watched her grow up. She wished the booth would open up and swallow her whole. "You think I have fire, just wait until my police officer father turns his gun on you. Leave. Me. Alone." Instead of feeling the threat of her words, the man simply plucked her hand from beside her, much more gently this time.

He curled her fingers and pressed his lips to her knuckles. She wasn't expecting his mouth to be warm or feel so...soft. She mentally kicked herself for sucking a sharp breath in at his touch. He noticed her response and a dark shadow passed over his face as a faint smirk curled his lips. It was as if he knew he was causing such an unwanted reaction within her.

"Listen, buddy, you need to leave these girls alone." A second voice ripped Violet from her daze and she stared up at a familiar face. She flushed as she recognized a buddy of her father's. Earl was the owner of the hardware store next door and she had known him since she was a toddler. And now here he was, witnessing her squirming and fighting to control herself around this stranger. "Just get back on whatever horse you rode in on and leave. This isn't the town for you."

From beside her, the man stood to his full height, unrolling like black smoke. She could see the corner of his lips lifting in a cruel smirk and for some reason, she feared for Earl's life. Rushing to her feet, Violet took the man's arm and smiled sweetly to Earl. "Thank you, Earl. I know him...we're...friends." She almost choked on the word. "He's just leaving now." She pushed against his chest, glancing down at her hands in surprise. It felt as if she were trying to push a marble statue through the diner, instead of a living, breathing man.

Though he was taller than her by almost a foot and could have easily stood his ground, he let her lead him outside. As they exited the tiny diner, it felt as if she had just stepped out of a coffin and could finally breathe. Every patron was staring at them from the windows, ready to pounce on him in case she was in trouble. But, something told her if this man wanted to, he could obliterate all of them.

He was so predatory, so...

"While I admire the look you're giving me at the moment, I must warn you to never-"

"Oh my God, cut the bullshit. I want you to leave me alone, got it? Stop stalking me, stop talking to me, just leave me alone." Her words felt brave as they left her mouth but the look on his face told her she was incredibly foolish for saying them. This was not a man who took the word 'no' very well. She immediately shrunk back like a scolded child and averted her gaze.

He stepped forward, ducked his head so he caught her stare again and lowered his voice so low, she had to strain to hear him. "As I was saying, I am Loki of Asgard, and no mortal on Midgard or any other realm will give me orders. I am a god and I can take what I want." His words, quiet but screaming in her head bit into her like thousands of daggers and she felt each syllable pierce her.

Loki. He was a god? She shivered as his hands traced the bruises of her wrists and was once again her fingers were brought to his lips. Her eyes slid closed and she tried with all of her being not to enjoy the touch of his lips on her skin. It sent tiny pinpricks down her spine. And just like that, he was gone. Violet blinked in the sudden light that he had blocked her from and shielded her eyes from the sun. She stared at the streets but saw no one who resembled his stature.

From behind her, the bell over the diner's door jingled and Heather ran out, breathless. "Who the hell was that?"

She was expecting an answer, but the only thing that Violet could find on her tongue was, "Loki."

.

AN- Hey, special thanks to all those who reviewed! You motivate me to write quickly so keep going! I'm going to see the new Thor movie tomorrow night so I'm sure I will get enough inspiration to keep this story good for you all! :D