Infatuation Of The Mind • ♤Loki Laufeyson♤

Chapter twenty-one - Not really here

You woke up screaming. Visions of Tyrvi's body convulsing in your arms kept replaying in your head, only to get aggressively clearer as soon as you closed your eyes. Perhaps to keep reminding you that it wasn't a dream, it was the brutal and painful reality.

"By the gods woman! Shut up!", shouted the giant man in the cell across from yours.

From his head grew great curved horns like a mountain goat and his skin was gray and rough. But apart from his size and those bizarre horns, he looked like any other man.

You wanted to slap those silly horns off of his head. Instead you curled up in the corner of your cell and pulled your legs up close to you. Carefully you rested your chin on your knees and let silent tears flow down.

No one had come to see you for hours. The last people you talked to were the guards that brought you there, while you pleaded that you were innocent.
They had pushed you into the cell with such force that you had fallen to the floor. With the handcuffs holding your wrists tightly togheter it had been impossible to save yourself from a painful impact. The second guard had taken a step in as if to help you up, but was immediately stopped with a hand to his chest.

Now you sat there, with a cracked eyebrow and a bruise that stretched from your forehead down your cheekbone. You hadn't felt the pain nor bothered to wipe away the blood that had dried onto your cheek.

No attempt to help you, to listen to you from anyone. They hadn't even tried to help your sister as she was laying in your arms with blood oozing out everywhere. Immediately you had been dragged out and down to the dungeons.

The last faces you remembered were Loki with his look of confusion and worry, and Hellatin... You had turned a corner and there he had come walking with an expression that didn't say one thing or the other.

The perception of time was completely lost to you down in the dungeons. You were closed out from all form of daylight or night sky you had to guess the time of the day.

Considering the silence and lack of movement in the other cells, you guessed it was still night or perhaps early morning.

You cried yourself back to sleep, seated on the cold stone floor.

-

You slept, you ate, slept and ate. Seven meals had been delievered to your cell. How long had it been since you got there? A day? Two days? Three days? And no one had come for you. Alone in your cell you either cried or slept. Trying to cover the memory of Tyrvi in your arms with sleep, as if sleep was the thickest black paint on the market. But your dreams kept haunting you. You were a prey but also the very predator hunting you. Trapped in your own head, unable to escape. 

At the edge of your mind, you could feel a slight pull, as if an invisible thread was urging you to wake up. Tired, you lifted yourself up so you took support against your forearms.

The edge of your vision was blurry but you could see the outline of a person in front of you. If the person was inside the barrier of the cell or outside you couldn't tell. Regardless, you jerked back.

Loki wore a casual black outfit. Black pants and a black tunic, nothing more. Could it be in the middle of the night?

"Did you do it?", he asked, his voice low almost like a whisper.

"Do what?", you knew what he meant, but you needed to hear it.

A sigh, "Did you kill her?", his eyes slowly moved to meet yours.

You had to force air down your throat. When had it gotten that hard to breath?

"What do you think?"