Hurricane

Chapter Two

Living creatures, how enticing they can be, how creative, how forceful, how vengeful. Taking the time and having the dedication to understand the living is not an easy task; it is a complicated and delicate task. Feelings and assumptions are the common guides of these creatures, of all creatures. A lack of understanding and a lack of interest often create the chaos and the humiliation war brings. Why have these two for so long lingered around our decisions then? Why is it that we so very often fall right back into the vicious cycle of destroying what does not belong to us, just because we cannot have it? When will come the time when we have not to worry about someone disagreeing with you and having the short temper, the cold mind and the weak heart to start a destructive movement? Not only are we to worry about our own safety, we are to take into consideration that of every other living creature regardless of if they are held close or not.

It is said that our soul can most easily have an opening through our eyes. An opening that allows someone to believe they can decipher us, though the success in that art is never to be truly found. Not even by someone who can see more than the outside, and can analyze through more than just a mere pair of eyes. For one who can see beneath all that, and venture deep inside our minds, this impossible task finds at least a few of its locks rudely broken.

Said gift was both a gift and an advantage as it was a curse and ability with the possibility of bringing more than just eternal despair. The god of Mischief knew this by heart. Not only had he fallen a prisoner entirely dependent of verifying lies were never addressed to him, but he only found the heartbreaking feeling of finding no satisfaction, no amusement after a while. Being able to read people, creatures, knowing what is to come, what is being planned; unless used for a certain motive, it was like hearing about a terrific book with an even more amazing ending and having someone tell you the end before you even start reading it. No opportunity to look forward to something, not even enough time to ponder on what might be the possible outcome. Knowing that as long as someone is thinking about it and has no ability to block you away deprived Loki of many surprises, of many delights, but also, of plenty of disappointments.

Like a soft blanket, rain covered the city of London, protecting it from anyone who would try to watch from above. Naturally, it was only one being the one that was notably annoyed by this fact: Heimdal, the gatekeeper of the realm of Asgard; and all he could think was 'what an incredibly troublesome boy the fallen prince is'. Wondering nothing but if he was to bring pain to any other being, he dared look closer from above at the rather young male. Understanding he would only have a short period of time to do so before the tricky mastermind noticed his presence, the noble and loyal man observed quietly and with narrowed no signs of disturbance had been made during the past week the trickster had so far spent on Midgard, he could not keep calm nor let his guard down. He kept on wondering, how long until he realized?

But, of course, the prince Loki had known about the prying eyes long before he even began watching. He could've more than just imagined it coming. Regardless, he did not mind; he knew perfectly well not to act strangely. After all, he was just an unfortunate god trapped in an even more unfortunate place. Loki had other things to worry about, things much more – attention worthy: his plans, a slight inconvenient having affected them.

During his stay in the realm of the Vanir, not only had he received aid and sustenance, information being the piece he was the most grateful.

"Is it true not even one – whether it may be a male or a female- with abilities worthy enough to be a part of Vanaheimr remains outside of these lands?" Taking slow, steady but long steps, Loki spoke as he walked around the bright court of the realm he had fallen to.

Njördr, father of all the Vanir stared at him with a keen and perplexed look upon his face, "Are none of the talents we now hold of any use to you? What could bring you such a need for them to be long gone and lost?"

A sly smirk was missed by the powerful god as the younger god felt the oblivious and offended tone of Njördr, "My lord, that is not what I have implied. I merely see no use in forcing anyone into accompanying me in this quest I am on. I have met with the rest of the respected Vanir before and they seemed most uncomfortable with such idea. I thought that, perhaps, I would find someone more willing and with less ties to this realm. That way, the letting go will not be a problem at all."

Fist clenching and unclenching, lower lip being licked and bit, and a pair of eyes looking away from the pale figure, Njördr's voice could only be heard by Loki now seeing as how he notably lowered his volume and strength, "There is one, though not many know if she is still alive or not. Not even I am able to foretell if her existence has perished"

That dreaded smile, lately it seemed to always cover him.


Anja knew now more than ever that she could not hold on to stereotypes for too long. She just could not do it. She loved the fame, of course, after all, she had worked hard to get there, obviously desiring it, but she sometimes couldn't feel the pleasure it normally brought her. Maybe it was because of the alternate reasons her troubled eyes held, but of course, no one could know. Her red eyes were closed as she tried to focus on why she was there. To forget for just a few seconds, to think about anything but what was slowly killing her. Sitting on a bright blue puff, she placed her elbows on the coffee table right in front of her, laughter filling her ears along with the loud music on the background. She blinked with difficulty a couple times trying to look straight ahead and ignore all distractions. Her thin fingers took a hold of the object been handed to her by her dear friend Marjorie. A small previously transparent hitter was placed in front of her mouth. She smiled a bitter smile and decided she had to move on. Fire coming out of her blue lighter, she took a small drag of the green herb and passed it on.

There was about ten people in the room, going from the ages of eighteen and nineteen to the age of thirty-two –her other dear friend JK-. Most were either making a fool of themselves, singing or chilling while drinking some beer and eating some of the many chocolates Anja had taken. Some days she truly was okay, most of the days actually. Understanding completely that wallowing in self-pity would not get her anywhere, she truly was alright, with lingering memories, but alright. Then there came the times when all she could think about was about how much she needed to get away from everything and ignore it all; moments which resulted in uncontrollable traveling to remote places and dangerous exploring, drinking, smoking or getting high.

She felt disgusted at how she was handling things at times, others she felt like she had the full right to act that way. Either way, at that moment, she decided to let go, so she stood up and walked over to the people singing their lungs out at a rather modern song but not exactly pop.

"This is my song now, bitches, so move along!" She sang as she swayed her hips and moved her hands and shoulders as if truly feeling the song. Her lips pouting in a funny way, she laughed along with her friends. Indeed, as a singer, she was right where she belonged. The lack of feeling on her stomach made it a little more complicated than usual, seeing as how she couldn't normally regulate her diaphragm for her singing, regardless, she was happy. She felt like she was living.

Night of the Hunter. How she loved that song.

Finishing, she sat down next to the tiny Marjorie. She was a girl with bright auburn hair, a tiny nose, of a very short height, quite big breasts but tiny body, a very loud yet deep voice, and an amazing talent for drawing and painting. Working at her now husband's modest tattoo place, the very own tattoed girl had met Anja a couple years before. While Anja held close her sometimes flashy but always clean look, a part of her had always known –during her long years of living- that she would sooner or later brand her own skin with a symbolic drawing or phrase. As expected, her mother's birth date now adorned a tiny part of her right ankle and the German word Seele which means soul designed on her left wrist.

"You with us? Or it hit you hard?" Marjorie's raspy voice called out to Anja. Naturally, she smiled. "Both, honey, I'm here, but my mind isn't, so-" she winked, "entertain me to keep me here." To this Marjorie let out a loud and sudden laugh and began filling her in with all the new gossip she could think about. After all, her friend had been gone for two good weeks, surely there was something to talk about.

As the night crept in, the previously hang out became an actual party, more people joining in, less drugs and more alcohol poured in. Soon a gathering of good friends transformed into one of people who Anja didn't know or had just seen a couple times. Anja's 'high' feeling wore off after a couple hours, but her drinking habits jumped right back to her.

Anja Evelynn Evans was a five foot two, twenty-five year old looking, girl with long chestnut rather curly hair and hazel –more brown than anything though- eyes and a pale olive skin tone. With quite wide hips and a small figure, the young woman was known to be an attractive female. Never having quite gotten over the adolescent self-consciousness, she was rather modest with her looks, regardless, years of experience had taught her that she was to gain nothing from that, and often used her 'captivating' techniques to lure people into doing her will.

A sometimes too honest, and direct, personality contrasted with her love for deceiving and amusing herself with things not entirely considered good for everyone. She did use people, she had used people, but she had learned enough about ethics to know when to stop, why to stop, and how to get away with it. She was smart, but no genius. She took pride only in knowing she made a useful use of her years to learn what now people considered her great achievements. If only they knew how she had acquired those.

Truly in a comfortable environment, regardless of being in presence of people she was unaware of, Anja found herself tearing her gaze apart from her buddies as she turned to look at the door. A laugh and a smile still lingering upon her, she spotted someone who made her heart stop in a very uncomfortable way. Her stomach churned, and turned as her smile turned into a frown.

"What the hell is he doing here?" She muttered as she grabbed onto her other friend Marcelo's arm. As the younger guy noticed the uncomfortable look on her face, she turned to follow her gaze. His protectiveness over his small friend reacting, he didn't need to think twice before standing up and making his way notably angry towards the other male. Right then, Anja noticed her mistake. Heavily affected by the effects of alcohol and the remnants of the marihuana, she stood up a bit too fast and felt her world move around her. Placing her hand on the counter next to her for support, she steadied herself before following the now loud talking taken outside.

Walking out of the loft, Anja found the two tall men arguing about why one had the right to stay and why the other should get going before something happened. Celo –pronounced cello- was quite the peaceful one as long as he didn't utterly hate the person. In this case, he more than despised the red head infront of him.

Anja struggled to make out what they were saying exactly, but she knew it would get rough, her beloved instincts telling her so and warning her. As the argument grew louder and neared a physical attack from either of them, she ran her hands through her hair and looked around. Most people had no idea about what was truly happening because of the loud music inside, and those that did, didn't want to intervene. There was just an insolent couple out there, not giving a damn about what was going on, worried only in calming their carnal desires.

The moment Anja's ex-boyfriend touched Celo, Anja's face had just turned from staring offended at the couple behind her. Celo's anger spiking, and his right fist about to collide with the redhead, Anja's extremely loud yell startled both of them. Her "No" caused the redhead Jason to stare directly into her eyes. Oh, had he known that was the doom for the night. His bright dyed hair covered his eyes as he got a hold of himself. His hand going up to cover his eyes, he found he was stunned, couldn't focus, not even one drink on him, and still, could find no strength to move from his prior position. His sudden "lost" state completely surprising Celo, the brave guy turned to look at Anja, both confused and questioning, he opened his mouth to ask if she had done something.

Sobering up because of using her tiring abilities, the girl shook her head and wasting no time began dragging him back inside. ''Grab your things if you have any and take my keys, you're driving me home.''

Deciding not to question her sudden forcefulness and determined eyes, he did as told and walked next to the girl as she bid her friends goodbye. Waving strangely at Marjorie, Celo couldn't manage to tear her gaze from Anja afterwards. It was not until they were inside her car and almost at her place that he dared ask, ''What did you do?''

Silence greeted him as her reply, ''Ann, why did he look as if he had just seen a ghost or somthin'?''

She never did reply, dizziness and tiredness taking over her, she simple shrugged even as he wasn't watching her and opted for sleep, knowing that he could just carry her inside, take her car, go home and bring it back during the morning.

As he followed her expectations, he only kept asking himself one thing out loud in the solitude of his way back home, ''Why did he even go there? I don't get it.''

But of course, from the shadows of invisibility, the same green eyes that had once surprised Anja glittered. Loki snickered. He knew exactly why that hated and not accepted man had dropped by to visit a bunch of people who detested him. He knew exactly why.

'It appears that I truly neglected her abilities.'

So enticingly amusing he found the figure in front of him. Sleeping so peacefully, yet, weakness and uneasiness covering her like white snow covered bright blood -never a permanent cover-. Once again inside the house, the god of Mischief opted from prying a little bit more into her life. While he had visited before, he had not taken the time to gather information directly from her closest surroundings. Again, not been the one he had been looking for, she had not been held as his upmost priority.

He had been secretly informed of the possible existence of a woman on the realm of Midgard who once possessed the ability to foretell the future and at times manifest energy as objects, the latter a basic knowledge of any sorcerer. He understood why she had failed at perfecting said ability though. A former lover of Njördr's, she was banished from the realm of Vanaheimr as she foretold something unpleasant for her kind. The death of an extremely esteemed sorceress, who often fought with her over their lover, had been the cause of her exile. The mighty Njördr felt pained as he was forced to do so, mainly so because only the pair knew about the existence of a new life created between them. The young Anja, daughter of a powerful creature and a beautiful yet truly common woman; that's who Loki found a need of now. Having learned about the death of the woman addressed as Myrthala –ironically a Greek name in the human world- frustration had taken over him, but corrupting minds and walking elegantly deeper into the secret identity of the out casted 'oracle', Loki found about the existence of a baby girl.

He had not expected her looks to be such as hers. She was meant to be much younger, considering the immortality she was sure to have. He was certain that she was no older than two hundred years, the human equivalent for looking of roughly twelve years old. He was naturally aware of the fact that the older these immortals grew, the more it took for them to visibly look older. Yet, she looked just some human years younger than him. Indeed, that fed his curiosity even more.

She had seemed quite lost, a perfect feeling he could toy with. But he was not to forget that she also held even if just a small ability to use humanity's greatest weakness: their feelings. Such fragile beings they were, at least, Loki truly looked down upon them because of that.

As a cold long finger was placed on Anja's bare forehead, she flinched and grunted. Loki smirked; she could feel his powers intruding. Of course, with how prominent they were, even someone with the faintest ability to perceive energy would be able to feel him rooms away. Her abilities weren't developed. He could only guess her mother had not taken the proper care of her as she obviously had not taught her half what she could have; either that or she had refused.

'So, she is aware of her abilities. Interesting. Anja, daughter of Njördr the God of the Vanir, you shall be of great use. Now, how should I win you over? Shall I force you to oblige, control your every sense?' Prying into her mind in the most rude and crude way he could, he pressed his finger a little bit harder, only to see her squirm under his touch. Creating not only feelings of uneasiness, but also of pain, he saw through every bit of her life, every single moment left out of conversations, every single torment she had ran away from.

He smirked as he felt the information being absorbed and entirely stashed into that great mind of his. He could have fun too, could he not? Was there going to be someone who would interrupt? Unlikely. Feeling out of character and quite impudent, his other hand reached the hem of her black sleeve-less, button-up shirt. Feeling the soft fabric graze him, he unbuttoned the two buttons at the top and allowed his eyes to travel around her chest. Her brassiere was a deep blue that could match the night sky, two soft mountains looming.

'Ah, I see. So as my own physical desires arise, I come up with the answer to my very own question.' His smirk widened even more. Turning away from his prior savage actions, he focused on a new type of game to play inside her mind. As her uncomfortable and painful squirming came to an end, a sudden gasp of pleasure was heard. Soon enough, it was all that could be heard. Slow gasps, both out of confusion her mind felt and out of the pleasure it was been infected with; both amused the god. Taking absolutely no sexual contentment and only pure cynical and –recently discovered- sadistic bliss from his actions, Loki smirked as he chose to play with the girl's mind at the fullest.

'It will be when you can no longer live away from my presence without feeling forlorn and desperate, as though life is spiraling away from you that I will have you coexist in my new world, as a required helper.'

It would be perfect, unlike his plans as of lately had been.


She awoke startled and restless, sitting up as fast as physics would allow her to, and immediately regretting her actions as she felt a strong pain on her head and at the pit of her stomach. Her eyes closed tightly, her hand rubbing the right one; she yawned and proceeded to take a look around. The sudden symptoms of a hangover settling in, she began noticing her surroundings. Something was off, she could feel it. Taking in a harsh breath through her nose, she tried to ignore it, neglecting her 'gifts' as her mother used to call them. Whatever that was making her feel goose bumps, was to be ignored. She did not want more incidents like the one from the night before. Half thankful and half regretting her good memory she let out a soft sigh and stood up from the bed as steadily as she could.

As much as she had once loved her ability to toy with people, the way she was left so exhausted because of the lack of practice made her extremely upset and at times even made her feel unaccomplished.

Walking over to her bedroom's window, she moved the blinds and glanced down, her car wasn't there yet. Without moving her body, her eyes wandered over to her large digital clock with huge light blue numbers and she frowned. What was she doing up at eight am feeling like this? Wanting to go back to sleep but feeling an urge to shower and wash away invisible dirt and her very own uneasiness, she yawned once again and made her way towards her kitchen. Spotting a pack of cigarettes on her counter, she made a stop to look for a lighter and an ashtray. As she lit her cigarette she took in her surroundings. Something was off and it made her want to get out of her house.

That feeling truly reminded her of when she was younger and used to think ghosts were all over the house, while it was actually just the 'memories' her mother would see as situations that would happen and then spiritually discarded. A clear picture of her mother sitting down on the dining room, with papers of her work in front of her, a ridiculously big glass filled with water and a long cigarette lingering on her mouth came into her mind.

She remembered how Myrthala used to have her eyes closed as she took breaks before continuing on her paperwork and she would wave her hands around softly, as if dismissing visions she had no need of. Between the smoke of her trademark cigarette and the soft humming of her mother's, Anja truly felt like she was some spiritual monk –never actually believing it of course-.

Grunting, Anja felt her phone, still in her pants' pocket, vibrate and a loud song hurt her sensible ears. Rubbing her eyes and placing her cig on the ashtray, she took out her phone and stared at the screen, "Celo".

"Hey, what's up?" she sat on the counter.

"Really?" he sighed, "I'm driving over to your place in 'bout an hour, we're going out to hang out, m'right?" Anja couldn't help but let a smile crawl up her face. He truly cared about her. Letting her cigarette finish, she yawned and spoke for a few more minutes with her friend, agreeing to meet right after she was done getting ready.

Hanging up, she walked back into her room. Opening the door to her walk-in closet slash bathroom, she threw around her clothes and noticed certain dirtiness she did not expect, then again, she had no idea as for what had happened as she was sleeping. Grabbing a clean set of clothes, she opened the cabinet in her bathroom and took out some pills. She showered and then left as Celo arrived.

A tall figure following from afar, she got sat on the driver's seat as Celo scooted over. Very soon, the god and the half-oblivious were to properly meet, face to face, deceiver against deceiver.


A/N: I am so sorry if there are any grammatic or spelling mistakes, I swear that as soon as I get some sleep, study for my last test and drink some coffee, I'll read everything again and fixed and blemishes. Anyways, I'll give a quick explanation. I am going to play a little bit with Loki's wild, angry side, but he won't be always sadistic and evil, so don't worry, haha. If there are things that make no sense, I dare blame the fact that english is not my frist language, haha! Thank you for all those who are on the "alert" list, it genuenly inspired me to actually write something and not leave this story dying like I have done with most. Thank you!