Between the Lines

The Void (TW)

   "He who- what is the meaning of this? Where am I; who are you."

   "You ask the same questions every day, Loki, God of Mischief, Master of Lies. The answer never changes." He pulled open the neck of the chair, the dead man falling from it, what remained of his head hitting the floor with a stomach-churning sound. He shoved me into the chair, still soiled with blood and urine from my predecessor.

   "I don't understand, who are you and why am I here?" I fought against the seat, the memories of the past days, weeks, and months even coming back to smack like one of Sif's hands. I remembered what I had done; how I had sent The Destroyer after Thor to prevent him from returning to Asgard, how I had set Laufey- my real father- up to die by my hand under the guise that he would be allowed to murder the All-Father, the man I had called Father until learning the truth... How long ago had that been? How long had I known that I was not Odin's son, but Laufey's; that I was not an Asgardian prince but the heir to the throne of the Jotunheim, a Frost Giant... I looked up at the man, his skin the very same blue as Laufey's. "Are you a Frost Giant sent to kill me?"

   "A Frost Giant? You think I am a lowly Frost Giant?" He laughed, the chainmail of his headdress and body wrapping clinking. "I am a Kree, boy. A former Accuser tasked with ending the cancer that is the murderous Xandarian race. My kind made peace with them though, a decision I cannot abide by."

   "And what does that have to do with me," I demanded as the woman in the mauve jumpsuit came and began tightening the neckpiece of the chair. "I am not a Xandarian! You said so yourself, I am an Asgardian!"

   "You are not my quarrel. You are merely mine to break for someone else, someone who sees greater use of your weak frame and fragile mind rife with a desire for revenge."

   "Revenge; what are you talking-" My voice echoed through the room; the woman pressing a button on her arm as a recording illuminated from it. I watched, unable to look away, as the man before me backhanded me again and again with the woman electrocuting me every time he demanded it as he demanded to know more about stones... Power... I felt my heart sink further and further as I watched the abuse. I could feel each strike, the sting of the electricity... Each image alerted me to the bruises I had on beneath my armor and the realization that I had indeed been here far long than I thought. Long enough to not only betray Asgard further by revealing not just how to get past Heimdall, not just what all was held in our vault, but of my knowledge of things that no longer resided in the vault... "Enough, alright? Enough! I get it..." I cried, my voice trailing off as the man leered at me, his blackened teeth and purple eyes impossible to look away from.

   "You know the secrets of the power we seek; the power to not only make the Xandarians pay for their years of tyranny, but every world that thinks itself better, that thinks itself above... a god." His smile grew wider, more deranged as the black material he had smattered across his eyes and mouth seemed to glint the way the blood of the man I had watched him kill had. I wondered if that was indeed what he wore.

   "I know nothing, I swear! Nothing but stories; fairy tales!"

   "Is that so? For if such is true then there is no reason to let you live further." He lifted his axe then as I cowered.

   "Wait, wait! I-I-I, I might know... something..."

   Again with the terrifying smirk as he set the hammer down once more. "That is better. Now... Last we left off; you were telling us about the Tesseract."

          I remembered a bright light... Not just the dazzling display from the Bifróst, but a light that came out of the darkness of The Void, warming my face as Eibhlin's skin had before I had thrown her to Thor. I remembered watching until I disappeared, praying she would not follow after me. Even if she had, would she have ended up here too? Could she possibly be in a worse place; was such a place even possible? I woke each time, unsure if it was day or night, new or old, with her name on my lips. Something the two women who were tasked with watching me, aiding in my torture, found amusing.