"After all we've done for you and this is how you repay us, with your insolence. We pulled you out of space. We were the one who saved your pathetic little life. You owe us."

"I don't owe you shit. You should have just left me to die. I will never submit to what you want, especially if it involves innocent people."

"Oh so the lost prince has a soft spot for life. I'm not surprised since there wouldn't be a kingdom without any subject. But I'll tell you this. How is any of them supposed to know whose boss if you don't remind them every now and again." He reached over and grabbed the throat of one of the Chitauri guards and squeezed it until he was prying at his fingers. Even then he did not let go and squeezed until there was no more breath in his body. Once he stopped wriggling he snapped his neck and let him hit the floor. "After all you attempted to annihilate your entire face over your false one, how hypocritical."

"You do not know me."

"Oh but I do Loki, that's the beauty of it. I know you better than you know yourself. You could learn a thing or two from me. Who knows I might even let you take that pathetic little planet you hold so dear. But only if you comply with my demands."

"You know what Thanos; I think you're scared to invade yourself. In fact I think you're pissing your pants right now just thinking about it. That's why you're trying so hard to 'convince me', because you're pathetic, nothing more than some bully who hides in the shadows. But I'll have you know that your scare tactic won't work on me, so beat me into oblivion like the rest of these pathetic bustards before me. I don't care; I have no more use for this life."

"That's good to know."

Loki lay in a growing pool of his own blood, courtesy of Thanos. It was a punishment for openly him yet again. Although he liked to call it being taught a lesson for not doing what would be in his best interest. Never in a million years will Loki ever listen to a tyrant like him. He sooner die than be forced against his will. In a way it seemed like he might eventually get what he wished for. The man was relentless when infuriated, it didn't matter who you were or where you came from. He never hesitated a single blow, he was relentless. It was almost like some sort of sick game. Perhaps he was trying to see if instead of blood spewing from his mouth candy would fly out. Like Loki was some sort of over sized piñata that if you hit him hard enough you'd win a prize.

The only prize Thanos got out of him was the pained screams from his victim. It was music to his ears. The blood curdling cries to no one, the sound of bones crushing beneath his boot, the crimson liquid that seemed to stain the filthy room and pool on the floor around him. To him it was pure serenity.

Loki could barely make out the sounds around him as his head flooded with dizziness. Let alone be able to place the rhythmic stomping of heavy feet as they left his cell. Leaving him crumpled up all alone in the dark once again. Unable to move his body he remained motionless against the cold stone floor of his little cell. His head was swimming but the same thought raced back and forth in his fading consciousness, 'why me?'

'How did I end up here? Is this what I deserved, a twist of fate for someone of my wickedness.' You could call it self-pitying but he was finding himself asking that question more and more. Whether it was loathing over his misfortune or that his entire life had been the same kind of merciless pity. Perhaps never existing wouldn't have been so bad. It would have saved him a ton of pain in the end. It would have been a whole hell of a lot better than living day to day without a purpose. Let alone a place where he belonged.

He made a minor effort to pry himself onto the thin mattress placed in the corner of the room. The stress on his body hung over him, ultimately regretting the subtle movements. As the adrenaline slowly dissipated, the pain settled in. Needles danced on his skin, it seemed even a bat of an eye would poise agony. He paused and allowed his body to once again settle on the hard floor in a crumpled mess.

His nails clasped onto anything they could grasp. He clawed at his side in a last ditch effort to relive some of the tension, finding it more trivial than helpful. He gave in and embraced the floor completely. His head pounded furiously against the coldness of the stone. His breathing was labored; every so often a soft wheeze escaped his parted lips. His vision was unfocused and useless at this point so he closed his eyes and rested.

He wondered how long he'd been down there. Day after day he endured the same treatment. He had lost time long ago; the constant lights had warped his mind and all sense of perception. The days were beginning to blur together. He thought maybe had been a few weeks or perhaps a couple of months. At least long enough for his hair to grow to his shoulders in a tangled mess.

Thanos was a tyrant who repeated beat him, day in and day out. There were slicing along his malnourished flesh, carved with various torture devices. Deep cuts shone down the length of his back, along with several clean stabs and burn marks. Being of frost giant decent, heat was damn unbearable. His left side had been cauterized while a good majority of rest of his body has been bruised and lacerated.

Oh how much he wanted to just curl up and disappear from the world. In a way he figured this was what he deserved. I guess you could say this was a cruel justice for attempting to murder your own kind for the sake of someone who allegedly hated them as well as what you've become. He had prayed for death after his failure. With no place he belonged, it was the only thing that honestly brought his mind to peace. But the day he drifted he only ended up in a different kind of hell. It was oppressive. This kind of pain was something he wouldn't wish upon even the hardest of war criminals.

He coughed, sending a mouthful of blood spraying out down his cheek and to the ground at his side. A callous feeling rippled within him through his rib cage, which was more or less shattered in pieces. In a way he hoped that a stray piece of bone would pierce his heart and end it for him. End his suffering and let him die. Knowing him he would never be that lucky. The universe wanted him to feel everything and come out of it just so he could endure it over and over again.

"Please end it.." Loki's voice trembled and cracked from hours of strictly being used to whimper and scream blood curdling cries.

He could break his bones and send rivers of blood cascading down his skin, but no matter what happens that animal could never break his will. He'd retained that mind set for a while. But no matter how tough you claim to be, anything remotely close to the caliber of what he'd endured will tear you down. He'd sooner die than follow him. With the direction he was headed he'd get his wish soon or later. He figured it wouldn't be so bad.

Blood ran from the wounds littering his body. Thanos tore his shirt to shreds while beating him, soiled pieces draped across his worn body. He claimed it gave him better access to his bare back. He clawed at him, slashed him with whatever he could find; medical apparatuses, dull blades which needed the momentum to be forced through his flesh. He stomped on him with his over sized hoof of a foot breaking who knows how many bones.

It was almost a chore simply to breathe. Fighting every urge to cough for fear his windpipe would be held in a death grip like a few moments ago. Thanos nearly squeezed the life out of it right before pummeling him into submission. A mix of blood and saliva ran out of his mouth. His hair was plastered to his face, held there by gash on his temple and sweat.

He wriggled slightly until the full effect of his injuries had set in, making it near impossible to bare. His breathing became slower and heavy in his lungs, head thudding as his mind lulled as his broken body mended with the floor. Wet, cold, and unable to move a mere few feet to the corner; the once skilled and admirable prince was nothing more than a pathetic shred of his former self, lying on a filthy floor, never again to see natural light again.

He felt himself slipping further. His eyes rolled back in his head as the exhaustion settled. The cold radiating from the floor felt comforting. He never had a problem with cold; although he regretted his origins he still enjoyed the freezing weather. Now all he had to settle for was this dirty floor and poor air circulation, but that was enough. At least for him it was.

"How's his progress?" A raspy voice sounded from behind a motherboard. The control room was filled with miscellaneous monitors and flashing lights. Buttons littered the surface of every table and part of the wall. More disturbing than the poor lighting which tricked your perception was the other side of the window. It's picture a crumbled up man making no more movement than shallow, barely visible breaths.

"Stagnant as usual, I'm afraid I might bust him up a little too much. The last thing I need is for my trump card to be beaten to the point he's unrecognized." Thanos said, stepping into the shadowed room. He let the door swing shut with a thud. The only light produced in the room came from the small portal to Loki's jail cell.

"What do you suppose we do my Lord?" A strange man stood from his place behind to controls and bowed to Thanos. With his arms out stretched you could notice the purple pigment in his skin as well as the addition of an extra set of thumbs. He waited for the tyrant, just barley rivaling him in size, to give him an answer.

"It's time, fetch me the stone." He spoke in a menacing tone and the hooded creature in front of him rose from his seat grinned a placid smile and walked out of the room without another word.

Hours passed as the beaten prince remained motionless on the floor, utterly drenched in blood and filth. The trousers he'd worn since his arrival were in tatters and soiled with dirt and his own blood.

He slowly rustled himself back to consciousness although it would probably be easier to drift off back into nothingness than to feel the overwhelming pain. He knew something had to be done whether if it was to move a couple feet to the corner or look for a way out if that was at all possible.

He was pretty sure his back was broken. Most of his ribs and his arm had met a similar fate, all bent out of shape and twisted. His skin was a near translucent pale and coated in flakey brown as the blood dried. Some of his wounds had clotted and stopped bleeding but the few that had been cut deeper continued to flow.

He felt like he was going to be sick. The smell itself was that of vomit and decay. There were bones on the far side from where his head was settled; easy to say it was Thanos' victim prior to himself. His vision was slowly returning and he could see the busted through skull as it lye turned over against the wall. He'd overlooked the room multiple times and he always wondered about the ones who came before him. The occasional question surfaced in his head. Will this be me one day and how long from now will that be?

For a moment he felt fear, an emotion he hadn't felt in a long time. Not since his foster father he told him stories of war when he was a child. Monsters that had slain many of his people or at least what he once thought were his people. He shivered from the atmosphere of the room almost like it weighed on him and the amount of blood he now lay in.

After while he felt like he was able to lift his head a little, wondering if he could pick his broken body up off the floor. He figured it was worth a try. Working his one good arm up underneath himself he heaved with whatever strength he could manage. He probably elevated a few inches off the ground before giving up and embracing the hard surface once more in a huff.

He gasped for air through his barely functioning lungs as his busted ribs took the impact. Unwilling he let of a whimper in pain.

Every part of him ached and cracked with each subtle move. He figured he'd be spending the night on the floor.

The next day Thanos came to see Loki for a last time. His pawn lay faced down on the floor while the door creaked slowly open, the body didn't stir for a second. Heavy steps echoed around as he entered the room. He stepped in and held the door as he starred at man. The wounds covering his body were raw and cuts just barely clotting. His bones unset and disfigured covering in festering burns.

Loki held the ability to heal at an excessive rate but it still had a limit. For the most part the bleeding has stopped. He was weak and his body was close to shutting down entirely. His will was faltering, his bones were broken and his time was nearing an end. "You're not blue yet.." Thanos said referring to the frost giant's natural state. In live but especially in death. No answer or movement was made.

"You know it was cruel what those Asgardians did to you. Disowning your notions and betraying your ideals and trust like it was nothing. They abandoned you in space leaving your fate to whatever lay ahead. To your death, it was just wrong." Thanos let out rhythmically.

Soft laughter could be heard coming underneath the heap of flesh known as Loki. It was evident that he's finally gone mad. He's ascended past the limit, that or is well past the point of caring. He fought everything so far. There was the extensive amount of pain and anger, the will to care about his fate dissipated. Whether or not everything was fair or not, if his life held meaning? They'd long since lost faith in his beliefs. He had become accustomed to the feeling, casting it away as well as his pride.

"I suppose you know of cruel? You don't know me I'm just a center piece on display for you. You're a sick bastard so don't even try to be sentimental about it. Just get it over with already. I'm tired of waiting." He said from his place at his feet. The suspense was something he'd grown accustomed to. But he had long accepted his fate.

"Oh but what you don't understand is I do know. I know everything about you fallen prince. How you supposedly thought you of all people would inherit the thrown. Only to learn that you yourself were only a pawn in Odin's played out game of chess. A sacrificial piece saved for just the right moment. But you failed."

"Fuck you.. You have no idea about what I've been through." Loki retorted weakly, there was hardly enough strength to seem threatening.

"The only thing that refuses to slip my mind is the look on the blond one's face. Almost like his heart had been torn to shreds. It's haunting in a way. I'd hate to be responsible for such heartache." With these few simple words he drove back the vivid memories of that day. All of the pain still fresh as the day it happened. He forced himself off the ground into a cross between a sitting and a kneeling position. His jaw clenched tightly together, whether it was from the discomfort of moving or from the utter shock of the words that escaped the others parted lips.

Loki's face softened as he glared at the man. Subtle tears forming in his eyes before he spoke. His voice trembled in sorrow with a hint of anger leading to an explosion. "How do you know all of this... Tell me!"

"I have my methods. You could say I was able to reach into your mind and pull certain things to look at."

Loki remained quiet, attempting to prevent his obvious anger from surfacing once again. He hated this, his situation, everything that happened up to this point, and the fact that he couldn't do anything about it.

"I can blatantly see that you hate me, which is understandable. I'll tell you what if you're able to stand I'll give you the chance to kill me. I'll even do you one better. I'll give you a weapon. If you can strike me you will be able to return to Asgard."

An alien appeared behind Thanos with an odd looking spear in hand. He offered it to his master before nodding and disappearing behind him once more. It shone bright with an ominous blue. It lightened up the little dark room and played on Loki's senses, mainly his curiosity.

But for the most part his mind was directed to how exactly he knew all about him. Only things witnessed by few he knew about. Whether how he found out wasn't what bothered him. The fact that he knew something that personal infuriated him. He was not some open book left out for anyone to read. He had his demons and they were meant to be locked away safe in his head. Not exploited.

Thanos noted the anger growing inside of him. He finally figured out the fuel to his fire. He narrowed his brow before tossing the spear into the room. It chattered slightly against the floor then settled a foot away from the prince.

Loki's face was hidden beneath a shroud of dark hair. He stared at the weapon before him and by this point he didn't care about anything anymore. Whether it was about freedom or death anything would be better than this constant routine of torture.

He lurched forward and grasped the spear with whatever reserves he had left.

Thanos chanted some unknown language under his breath; Loki was too out of it and neglected to acknowledge his surroundings as he thrust the weapon towards him, aimed for his chest. But suddenly he found himself unable to move. His knees hit the ground and his fingers continued to curl around the staff of the spear as it slowly lowered to the floor. His eyes widened, the feeling of paralysis flowing within his stiff muscles.

He frantically searched for what could be the cause of this. He remained knees planted in the ground, weapon in hand but at rest. Light blue ran through the veins on his arms all the way up and pulsed along with the stone embedded in the spear. Bleeding into the vessels in his neck and flushing into his eyes. His pupils dilated as he looked hazily past Thanos.

"What's happening to me.." He uttered lightly through a clenched jaw.

Thanos shifted his weight before cracking open his mouth to speak. In a nicer tone than usual he muttered the most terrifying thing he'd heard since being held captive. "The wait is over. I'm glad you're willing to desist and offer your service." He flashed his yellow teeth at the man practically kneeling at the others feet.

His newly blue tinted eyes glared up at the tyrant, as he forced a nod. His body betrayed his every will and awaited another command. This was an odd feeling, almost like being on strings. There was vast pressure placed on his lungs that prevented them from expanding to their full capacity like his breathing with being controlled. This left his fatigued and weaker then he was, he was completely vulnerable.

It's funny it wasn't like he couldn't feel; he felt everything else. The thing is he couldn't do anything about it. He could still feel the coldness of the blood running down his skin like rainwater. There was the burning of his raw flesh harboring fresh wounds. The heavy pulsating in his head from the strain under his body was even more unbearable now.

His vision faded again at the worst possible moment. He needed to know what was happening. He couldn't have heard him right; the wait is over, glad you're willing to submit. 'What the hell is that supposed to mean?' He pried his eyes away from Thanos and winched at the weapon heavy in his grip. 'The spear, it has to be the spear, there's no other logical explanation.'

Thanos gave a gesture to one of the subordinates through the one way mirror. Within a couple minutes two men enter carrying strange equipment and a stretcher. Loki didn't pay any attention to the lot of them as they swarmed by him, avidly prepping the area. He was tired and the fight had drained out of him, stolen through his fingertips.

His fate has been decided and it torn him down inside, he didn't want to believe it. He lifted his head his fading green eyes gazed up, at the blurry figure hovering over him; the color in his iris slowly blending into a lighter aqua. With a lunge Thanos was down to his level, face to face with Loki, his soulless eyes blacking out any ray of hope left for him. He cracked another composure shattering grin before whispering something under his breath to his slave.

"Don't fight it, you know you'll lose and in more ways than one. Morals and those you care about. We will talk again, but for now prepare yourself for what is to come." With that he waited to see whatever fear that was left within Loki flush, right before he drew back and cracked his forehead against the others.

Loki's eyes widened at the impact and rolled back in his head as he flew back. He hit the floor out cold still bleeding out on the floor. The spear chattered on the ground once again. Thanos rose to full height, dropped his grin and stepped out the room. His minions carefully wrapped him up, placed him on the stretcher and carried him to some unknown destination.