It was unnerving. Watching his fellow Asgardians getting put to death. But who was he to speak about their deaths when he was the one who shed their blood.

"Kill this man here, find that man there. Burn that village and give me their heads."

All for what? Skurge swallowed back bitter bile. Digging holes into his gloves he shook his head.

He's only following orders, nothing more. It wasn't his fault. None of it was…

But no matter how much he denies it… it haunts him. Thinking about all those he has put to death, the families he broke apart. The children he traumatized. The atrocities he committed in her name. It followed him… everywhere he went.

Each day he dreaded waking up and meeting Hela, he is slowly losing his morality. He knows it. The savage animal in him, he can feel it. Hela is keen on unleashing it, even if it meant killing all her people to do it.

Glancing at her he could see that she was smiling, her inhumanly pearl white teeth glinting as she did. She terrified him, if she was able to kill her own people with no remorse he could only imagine what she would do to the poor world she turns her attention to.

He feels the skin of his palm, having torn into his leather gloves. A sharp sting followed by a familiar wetness fills his hands.

How much blood would he have to spill. How much longer can he do this… is death a better option than life.

He forced himself to look at the horror before him, at the damp red sand, at the scattered limbs and entrails. At the deaths he orchestrated. Fenris always left their heads, never eating them. Maybe it's a way of mocking him, to make him see their anguish, the twist of their mouth mimicking a silent scream, the widening of their eyes. Their look of utter horror knowing their last breath draws near.

It's not his fault…

Chairs and tables rattled as the drums pounded, declaring a new challenger.

The crowd roared, applause growing as the doors opened to reveal who is lucky enough to test their mettle against Fenris.

Light filtered through the dark corridor and the crowd went mad.

Now, it was special. Hela has grown bored of watching unnamed fodder fight her wolf. For this momentous occasion she was gifting the people of Asgard a sacrifice.

A God.

"Come God O' War, slay the beast!" The crowd roared. Amused by the spectacle before them, the God of War, Tyr was naked and bleeding, clutching a dagger and chains. The dagger he held couldn't even be called a dagger as it was a hastily sharpened butter knife, the chains were none the better as it was fashioned from mail armor.

Tyr stood in defiance, pointing his dagger at Hela, "You're mad woman, pitting a bitch against me?" he hawked and spat thick white sputum. "after I kill your dog I'm coming for you next." Finishing his defiant speech he walked towards the meat grinder—Fenris.

Fenris howled and sized up its opposition. Having never tasted god before it was keen on sampling the best cuisine of Asgard. Wagging its tail it shivered with excitement, blood dripping from its maw it snarled, growling it charged Tyr.

The crowd roared as Tyr narrowly avoided getting mauled by Fenris. Dropping his knife he clutched the chains and held it in front of him.

"Come on you mangy mutt!" Tyr bellowed, if he was afraid he hid it well.

Fenris answered his taunts and barked. Crouching low its muscles tensed, building power it honed bloodlusted eyes at Tyr with hyperfocus. Shaking from the tension it pounced towards Tyr who met it with a charge of his own.

Hela chuckled as the shrill screams of Tyr drowned out the roaring crowds.

Skurge feels eyes staring at him. Not now, not here. He wishes he can sneak away, like a coward. He is a coward, always have been and always will be.

"Skurge," Hela spoke. "stop shaking in your boots, I can hear you over here."

Shit. He hastily made a lie, "I—uh. I need to pee." he turned to look at her, hands trembling, sweat cascaded from his bald head and stung his eyes.

Hela lazily glanced over his entire frame, examining him. She is suspicious, his excuse was dubious, even a dullard could see through it. He hopes to give nothing away, if he did… like last time. He quickly buried the scene in his mind, he can't bear to see it again.

"Hmm," she steepled her hands, hiding her lips from view. "Very well. You have my permission to leave and relieve yourself."

Skurge nodded and hastily made his way towards the exit, unable to bare standing next to her and hearing their shrieks.

The door closed shut, beside her she hears snickers and rattling, food and drinks spilled on the floor as the nobles laughed.

"Honestly Hela, why do you keep such a buffoon as company?"

She turned to the voice, rapping her fingers on her throne she stared at him. "You're becoming too familiar with me, Ragnor."

Ragnor grinned, "It seems so, Hela." the redness of his face pulsed brighter as he downed another cup of wine.

"I don't like that,"

Ragnor raised an eyebrow, "Like what?"

Hela sucked her teeth, "It seems I've found Fenris a new toy."

The redness of his face faded and turned bone white, "...w-what?"

"Seize him."

A gangly bone hand grasped his shoulder and squeezed, breaking it.

"Argh—" he looked at Hela with big watery eyes. "Hela... please—"

Hela paid no heed to his pleas, "Cut off his tongue, his voice irritates me,"

Her draugrs dragged Ragnor from his chair and pinned the man to the ground. When Ragnor kept his mouth closed the draugr smashed a wine cup on his jaw, shattering it.

He screamed, making it easier for her soldiers to pry his mouth open. The tips of his lips ripped, the joint creaked and popped, jaw dislocating from the force.

The sharpened points of the draugr's hand easily gripped the meaty appendage, exposing it with a firm tug.

"Stop," she commanded, the draugrs froze in place. Looking around the banquet table she turned her attention towards the other nobles. "Let it be known, that I, Hela, Queen of Asgard, the Goddess of Death, am not your friend." she paused, letting her words sink into their alcohol-addled minds. "I will not take lightly of anyone addressing anything other than 'my Queen'. Let Ragnor be an example to those who disrespect me."

The doors burst open. Whirling to face the intruder she saw that Skurge has returned.

His eyes widened, darting between Hela and the pinned Ragnor, "Uh… what'd I miss?"

"Skurge, how good of you to return."

He blinked, looking uncomfortable, "...you want me... to do something…"

"How perceptive of you," she gestured with her palm at Ragnor, "cut off his tongue Skurge."

Ragnor thrashed below her draugr, "Mmmph!—"

"Go on, Skurge, make it quick."

Skurge looked troubled and stood in place, staring at Hela his jaw tightened and his lips turned a fine line. He gave an apprehensive nod and made his way towards Ragnor, settling atop him, Skurge drew his knife.

"No," said Hela, "use your hands." she motioned with her hands, grasping air she tugged, mimicking the way farmers harvested vegetables.

"A-are you sure?"

She scoffed, "Very, now stop wasting time Skurge."

Skurge's bald head shimmered from sweat, big globs of salty liquid dripped on the ground creating puddles. She watched as Skurge removed his gloves, pinching the soft pink flesh he wrestled with Ragnor—who is intent on keeping his tongue.

Tugging once Ragnor's eyes bulged, his throat rippled from the sudden motion. Writhing, Ragnor worked to free his arms and push Skurge off.

Skurge looked at her like a bewildered child.

Hela raised an eyebrow, "Don't tell me you can't do it?"

Gripping the tongue tighter he dug his nails and pulled once more. The muscle resisted, intent on sticking with Ragnor—who gagged as his airways were blocked.

"You're doing it wrong, Skurge," said Hela, "Apply the force at a slow controlled pace, don't violently tug it."

Following her instructions he squeezed the tongue as hard as he could and pulled, exerting the force slowly, like shucking corn, moments later he heard the distinct sound something tearing. Ragnor flailed, his eyes and face turned beet-red, each breaths he drew sounded like guttural growls.

The tongue was slippery, his nails raked gorges upon it as he held the full length firmly. Centimeter by centimeter he pulled with a slow agonizing pace, ignoring the sight and sound of his savage and barbaric act.

Like picking vegetables he kept at it, veins throbbed and squirted blood, bone cracked as he rested his hand against Ragnor's jaw. With a triumphant roar, he tugged with all his might, holding the muscle aloft like a grotesque trophy he broadcasted to all of Asgard how much of a monster he is.

"Very good Skurge," Hela spoke as if she was congratulating a child. "Now take him to the healing room, Fenris has a new toy."

Skurge nodded, the tongue flopped on the ground. Ragnor was now unconscious and choking in a sea of his own blood, Skurge turned him on his belly and smacked his back, not wanting the man to suffocate, knowing how much that would displease Hela.

He glanced at her and saw that she has already turned back to watch the arena. "I'll be going now, my Queen." Ragnor left a trail of blood as Skurge dragged him towards the healing room.

"Alright," Hela addressed the nobles, "you lots are dismissed for the day, I surmised everyone has learned their lesson for today?"

The petrified nobles nodded and stood to leave.

Hela smiled and watched the next set of 'warriors' getting lined up to face her wolf, three bears this time.

It was her first time watching her darling Fenris fight in an arena. Odin always wanted to see the wolf tear into a pit of children but whenever he would suggest it to Hela, she always shut him down.

And Tyr surprised her. His right arm was long gone yet he still stood. Though he was close to his expiration date, he looked awfully pale and staggered with every step.

"Let it be known!" Tyr proclaimed, "That I will fall… but not as man… but as a god—"

The crowd roared as Fenris lunged forward, his dagger–like teeth tearing into Tyr's legs. After he was rendered crippled, Fenris bit into his stomach and gobbled his entrails.

Hela wrinkled her nose, "So much for dying like a god."

It amazed her how quickly Asgard took to accept their savage nature. Her father believed Asgard could change—that he could change. But seeing them cheer as the howls of death charged the air showed that she was right, Asgardians were more monster than people.

Odin desperately thought he could erase it from memory. She wanted to see him one more time so she could gloat, "You can't change instinct as it is ingrained in nature."

Leather boots clacked against marble and the doors opened.

"Any news from the hunt?" she fixed her gaze at her executioner.

"Yes," said Skurge.

The gate opened as the three bears came out running, charging the carcasses, wanting to feed.

Fenris howled and dashed towards them, tearing and eating the one unlucky enough to be in his path. It worried her to see how famished Fenris was, not caring about what he ate.

Hela waited for Skurge to speak, she tapped her fingers against her chair when Skurge stayed silent. "And? Come now, don't just stand there like a buffoon. Tell your Queen."

"Uh… oh-yes, the draugrs found corpses by the mountainside, they said that the bodies had been dead for several hours—two at most." Skurge stopped, thinking if he forgot anything. "Oh, the cause of death was inflicted by sword wounds." he finished.

Hela smirked and steepled her fingers, "Interesting."

"Yes my Queen, there was one survivor. The fat lord called himself Magnus Magni, son of Magnuss."

The name piqued her interest, "Magnus Magni Magnussson? Very well, bring him to me." she gestured for Skurge to leave.

She glanced at him and saw Skurge giving her a questioning stare. "Uh… do you want him here? Now?"

Hela blinked, "What?" she sighed and ground her teeth, "That's what I said. Now. Go."

Skurge bowed. "Very well, my Queen."

When Skurge left she continued to watch the festivities. Several old bastards came to speak to her—trying to gain her favor—she dismissed them. Their flowery words are meaningless to her, she should've killed them, but she still needed a competent court, she can't stand ruling Asgard alone.

Most of all she can't stand court life, she doesn't want to listen to farmers talk about their crops or hear gossips that one of the nobles have birthed a new brat. Those wrinkled bastards could do those for her.

She wants war, conquest, and battle. To hear the shrieks of her enemies as she plunged her swords deep in their heart. To hear them beg and grovel like little worms. She'll spare them of course, maybe remove an arm or two. Being maimed is a fate better than death after all

The door opened for what seemed like the millionth time. Skurge returned to her with a limping walrus, a very amusing sight.

"Leave us Skurge,"

She inclined her head and examined the specimen before her, a fat man with a bloated belly. She could have sworn his gut would fit a full grown man.

At that thought she smirked, if this creature proved to be useless she wanted to see if a man could truly fit in his belly.

"So," she started, "you're Magnus Magni Magnussson."

The fat lord dropped to his knees and groveled, "F-forgive me, my Queen—"

Hela huffed, "Yes, yes you're forgiven. Now, answer my question before I un-forgive you."

The fat lord shrank, "A-Aye, the they c-called Magnus Magni Magnussson."

"And your father is Magnuss Magni Magnusson?"

"He is,"

"He was a great warrior, your father. I remember watching him tear apart a group of trolls with his bare hands once. I always admired his strength and bravery. Tell me Magnus son of Magnuss, are you as brave as your father?" Hela gazed lazily upon the fat kneeling lord.

"Y-yes."

A black blade flew towards him narrowly impaling him. Yellow fluid pooled beneath him, blood dribbled on the floor as the blade removed his ear.

She expected the fat fool to cry out in pain, but to her surprise he stayed still, uncaring for his lost appendage. He may be his father's son after all.

The faint whiff of shit permeated the room and Hela wrinkled her nose—maybe not.

"What are you? Three-thousand? Four-thousand?" asked Hela, "So why are you still shitting yourself."

He stayed silent.

"Hmm, are you afraid of me?" she asked.

He gave a faint nod, "Y-yes my Queen."

"Your father was never afraid of anybody," Hela thrummed her fingers against her throne, "but here you are… soft and broken, did daddy never train you?"

"N-no,"

Hela hummed at his answer, "I've grown bored of you—"

The doors burst open for the billionth time, Skurge stood in the doorway, he was sweating, eyes wide, his face seemed to have aged years ahead.

"This better be important—"

"Enemy ships have been detected, my Queen."

-l-l-

AN: Chapter 12 has been revised, re-read if desired