He did not know how long it had been, this had continued for some time, the days where a complete blur now, he had no way of tracking the time that had passed other than the hours he spent conscious and in endless torment.

Most of these periods in which he was left in the isolation chamber felt like days, and when he was dragged out again he had been so weak that the chair restraints where the only thing preventing him from falling to the floor and being unable to rise again. He had fallen once after the restraints where removed, the butcher had left him on the floor for an hour before returning him to isolation.

They had not extracted anything of consequence from him he was sure, little real information, seeking only to dig deeper into his mind, to master him and break his will. He was nearing the end now he felt; his mind would not withstand them much longer and the walls of his mind would crumble away. He was constantly in and out of consciousness from the pain and fatigue, but sleep did not find him, save to cause frightful dreams and waking to find reality to be the true nightmare and with it no hope of rest or ease from in his suffering.

The light constantly blazed. In his mind his thoughts often returned home, to Asgard and he longed to be back there. It had been torment, but it was not blinding pain, captivity but not torture. Why did Thor not come? Surely they knew he still lived, surely Heimdall could see him, so why did they not come, was he really that detestable to them, did they rejoice at his passing? Dreams of joyous times would come to his mind, but they would all turn twisted, the smiling faces of all he knew were masks that fell away to reveal their contempt and hatred of him.

They wanted him dead all along, they never cared, he would die here alone and they would never know or be stirred to concern if they learned the truth! Would Frigga be troubled if she knew? He wished for her to be with him now, to comfort him and stop the tears, to bathe his wounds and give him cool clean water to slake his terrible thirst. His mouth and throat felt dry and rough as a barren desert, he tried to swallow but had no saliva, and he felt sure that if his wounds didn't slay him thirst surly would.

Frigga could not help him here, it was useless to imagine it, and he had no hope, of rescue or otherwise. Thoughts had come into his mind that these creatures wished to break him and use his secrets against Asgard, he cared not for them, but Frigga, they must not be allowed to harm her. A sweet melody then rose in his mind, an old song she used to sing him to sleep with; finding it a comfort he rocked himself cradled in his own arms, humming the melody softly to himself.

They could not take this from him, it was his refuge, he would keep Asgard and her secrets safe within it and no one could find him here. Sleep finally found him.

The light went out, the sound of the door bolt releasing was heard and it swung open, the butcher was there to greet him with a new day of agonizing hell. Before his eyes could adjust he was yanked out of the chamber and placed back in the chair.

'I do hope you are ready to cooperate today.' Came his tormentors voice, Loki stared blankly ahead of him, his eyes unfocused, his mind trying to be anywhere but there.
'Please allow me this moment, I wish to test a theory.' The butcher said as he tapped out commands on the control.

The restraints activated, the visor came down over his blank eyes and the needles penetrated, he felt nothing, they filled his veins with a new serum. This time Loki felt his mind begin to clear, feeling a chill rise through his limbs and ice coursing through his blood. His body sang at the freezing rush that brought him suddenly back to himself, he breathed deeply, he felt strong, alive and whole again!

The butcher laughed deeply and darkly, Loki could not understand why, the sound filled him with dread and panic.
'So!' Came the voice, suddenly so much clearer than before. 'You are of Jotun kind!'
Loki's heart missed a beat, what had happened, how could he know that? The panic rose and he tensed fearfully as he understood what had happened; the serum, it had caused his Jotun form to reveal itself. He felt sick to his stomach, what was this vile creature planning next?

The serum lost its strength and dissipated, Loki felt the pain and fatigue rush back to his body with full force after feeling so strong. He could not stop a cry of pain escape his lips, his breaths came short and shallow again.
'You have only yourself to blame for your pain, Loki, you have done this to yourself.' The voice angered him but he had no strength to fight, only to listen.
'Your own failure brought you here, you are weak and no one will ever come for you!' The words echoed round his mind, repeating and reverberating.

The butcher tapped out another command, the chair jolted and jerked itself into a new position, the back reclining him forcefully so that he was laid flat, the transition was jarring and unpleasant, Loki's wounds complained deeply. He felt exposed, vulnerable. He heard the butcher approach him where he lay, again the searing heat of his blade sliced into his wounds, he felt cold objects placed inside the folds of his flesh one high up on either side of his ribcage and one buried in each side of his stomach.

'Loki, tell me, if you are not the son of Odin then whose are you?'
'I have no father!' Loki replied out of his agony, the pain was blinding and he could think of nothing else, his mind desperately tried to retreat to the melody.
The needles pierced his skin sharply, he felt it and winced. The haze from before returned and once again he felt his control slip away, his head reeled sickeningly.
'Your father, Loki! Who sired you?' He felt a surge of electricity pass through his body emanating from the objects placed in his wounds, he could not cry out, he felt the burning all thorough him.
'L… Laufey.' Came his breathless reply.
'Loki Laufeyson!' The creature announced triumphantly. 'The once king of shining Asgard in the Allfathers stead! Cast out by the great and powerful Odin! Why is that Loki, what did you do to anger the Allfather so? Did you take the throne by force you scheming little Joten snake?!'
'No! It was entrusted to me!'
'Then how is it that you came to fail the Allfather?'

Loki faltered; he did not know how to answer. Another shock struck him like lightening and his body cried out, the burning was too much, and he couldn't take much more. He heard the melody and closed his eyes, surrounding himself with it.
'Answer me Loki, you cannot hide from me.' The blade trailed up his chest leaving a line of singed skin behind it.
'Jotunheim!' He gasped as the blade cut deeper, 'I tried to destroy Jotunheim!'
'Why would you destroy your own race Loki?'
'They are not mine!' He was disinherited, disgraced, dishonoured! 'I have no race!'
'But you have Asgard?'
'No! They never wanted me!'
'Why would they keep you then?'
'For their failed plans, I am nothing to them!'
'You were their prince, their king?'
'They never wanted my rule.'
'Who did they want, Loki?'
Loki could not bring the words forward; another shock ran through him, harder and longer than before. He shook from the pain and the fear of pain. One name rose in his mind before he could bury it again.
'Thor!' He cried out, more as a plea, a cry of desperation but the butcher took it.

'They wanted Thor?'
'They only ever wanted him!' Loki's thoughts ran wild; he spoke them allowed, his fear and hate now revealed.
'So you envied him. Did you hate him, did you kill him?'
'I would never! I love…' he stopped himself too late.
'You love the Mighty Thor! He is your dear brother is he not?'
'He's not my brother!' Tears filled his eyes, he clenched them shut trying to force them back.

The butcher laughed, he revelled in Loki's pain. 'Did he cause you to be cast out, Loki?'
Loki tried to think; the memory of his betrayal was distant from him, the treachery of Thor's allies, only thinking of their misplaced friendship before the good of the very realm!
'Loki, did Thor cast you out?'
He saw Thor's face, but it no longer showed love, it was distorted with anger, filled with regret and pain. He pleaded with him to help him, to save him; Thor said nothing, turning his face away. Odin replied the same as before 'No Loki.' He could not remember more.
'What happened, Loki? Stop hurting yourself, tell me!'
'He…' Loki hesitated, the surge went through him again; he had nothing left, no resistance no fight. He felt his mind was wide open, this creature could pull anything from him, and he was unable to fight it.
'He let go, I fell!'
'He hates you, does he not?'
'He did not want to save me!' The memory had gone, twisted and reformed in his mind. That was the truth now; that was how he remembered it.
'Did he betray you? Did he betray his king?' The blade was back on his pale skin, burning it black.

'Yes!' he screamed, 'I hate him, I hate all of them!' He did not know the truth anymore, he agreed in the hope it would end his suffering but he felt a part of him die, the part that still held Thor in such high esteem and respect, and the pain remained and increased, his mind splintered. Loki watched himself, this new twisted self and was powerless, shackled in his own mind, while the melody released him, allowing him to drift away.

The butcher smiled; He would be pleased, a sorcerer, a puppet who could retrieve and wield the cube at His command, this was the moment they had been waiting for!
The butcher come close as he whispered to him as though his words where a powerful secret: 'Now tell me, King would you like to be freed from your disgrace and the pain they have caused you to receive?' The words where hypnotic, he strained to hear more. 'Would you like a new throne? Would you like a world to rule for your own, to fulfil your birthright?'
'A world?' He said out of his confused state. 'I want to rule.' His mind was failing, he floated on air and the words echoing in his mind seemed fair and good, his reasoning had gone and he did not question them.
'Then King, we will burden you with this glorious purpose! We will give you a throne and you will know peace!' The words embedded themselves in his mind, he smiled through his pain and tears, it sounded good and right, he felt at peace.
'But peace comes at a price.' The creature continued. 'You must relinquish your freedom; you must be ours if you want the throne to be yours.' The voice was his own now, he could not fight from within, and he did not want to.
'I want the throne.' He slurred, barely aware of what he said.
'Good!' The butcher purred!

The restraints had been removed and the chair returned to its previous position. He had been given the food and drink, it was difficult to swallow, it was little but he felt his masters were generous indeed. The trauma he had received would not allow him to hold it down. He had vomited what little he ate and decided he would not attempt the rest, saving it instead and taking only the water. It was tepid, with a brown tinge and had an unpleasant taste and aroma but to him it was like fresh spring water. The butcher had received a message with his charges first task; he was to enter another's mind.

The dome in the ceiling above him activated, seeming to be some kind of viewing screen. He was told to relax and stare into its heart, images started to appear on its surface, it became evident they where also forming in his mind. He saw a dark corridor, and two men standing in it, Midgardians from the look of them, the taller man who wore a patch over one eye opened a case on the pedestal in front of him, inside was something that made his heart race, he could feel the power emanating from the object. It drew him into the vision so he was no longer an onlooker but present with the men in the dark corridor.

'What is it?' Said the one man.
'Power, Doctor.' The other said with a smile. 'If we can figure out how to tap it, maybe unlimited power!'
He approached, they could not see him but he felt the first man was aware of him; he would make an easy target. His form adapted, becoming more pleasing, and shifting into his old armour that he lost to the vortex but his face remained scorched from his tortures.
'Well I guess that's worth a look!' He whispered drawing up to the first man, filled with excitement at the sight of this object. The man was indeed aware of him on some level, he entered his mind with little resistance, he needed no persuasion.
'Well I guess that's worth a look!' He repeated.