The Year of Pain

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Falling. I remember falling. Falling faster and faster, never reaching anywhere, never seeing anything but the darkness. Only the darkness.

That was the Day of Falling. What came after that? What came after darkness?

More darkness. A different kind of darkness. Not the darkness you are aware of. The darkness that you fear. It was the kind of darkness that envelopes you when you lose conciousness.

It was hard to tell how long I had been out. Minutes. Days. Again, the track of time had been lost. It was never something I'd been keen on, but it hadn't helped me.

And besides, it didn't matter either way. The question then was not 'When' but 'Where'. Or even possibly 'How' the fall from another realm hadn't killed me. Or maybe even 'What'. What was I thinking when I fell? Did I want to die? That was a question I could never fully answer. Not then. Not now.

I was lying on my back, staring at the stars. I attempted to sit up, but found that the slightest movement sent my head spinning. I reached a hand up to hold my head, which had apperently taken a hard blow when I'd hit the ground. I felt the blood, sickeningly warm and sticky. I had seen my own blood many times, but this time it was different.

My lay there, unable to do anything for a while. Think. Move. I tried to heal myself, but my magic was out.

Hopelessness is a feeling that kills you in a way you can only know if you've felt hopeless before. When you're in pain, but you cannot stop it. When you're angered, but nothing can solve your problem. When you're sad, but all the world does is depress you. When Valhalla has a grudge against you.

I blacked out once more, probably from blood loss. For once, Valhalla had done me a favor.

No. I wouldn't say that. Because that's when he found me. Thanos.

Oh, those first few days were like Valhalla. He gave me a house of my own, brought me the finest confections the realm had to offer, and he told me that I could rule the Nine Realms. I had only thought this to be encouragement. But it was so much more.

He told me to meet him in the central area of his small, uncharted realm. I complied. He had been nothing but pleasent to me, right? Wrong.

Waiting for me was a flogging post. I was whipped twenty times that first day of pain. Twenty. Then I was left there. Thanos allowed my magic use for a few minutes, so I could heal myself. I payed no attention to this minute detail, but oh was I wrong to.

After I'd healed myself, I'd went back to the house Thanos had provided. Gotten some rest. That was the last time I'd ever slept.

The next morning I was dragged from the house forcibly. My struggling did no good. There, waiting were three old friends: The Flogging Post, the Whip, and it's holder, none other than Thanos himself.

Thirty times I was whipped that day. The numbers just kept going up. he stopped at two-hundred. That one took a full week for me to heal it. But in that time he didn't stop there, oh no. That would be too easy.

When Inwas not in my new prisoner cell, I was beaten multiple times. Stabbed. Tortured in every way possible. I would be at the very edge of death, and Thanos would give me the power to heal myself. Why I kept healing myself, I do not know. I kept thinking that the torture would stop. That he would let me live in peace. How many times was i wrong that year?

About eleven months of torture later, he found out what I had done eleven months ago on Asgard. He struck a nerve, torturing me now with words about the family I'd once known. He told me that I could prove them wrong.

My task was to get him the tesseract. Once I came back with it, he would take siezure of the Nine Realms and give Asgard to me. But I refused. He would double cross me, I knew. Then, he said that if I did not, he would torture me for a milenium more if I did not.

How could I say no?

And thus he gave me Spirod, my sceptor, and brought me my armour. He showed me maps of Midgard, where the tesseract was held. he taught me of S.H.I.E.L.D. and how they worked. Another month passed and I was ready. I was sent to Midgard through the tesseract, and then began the Battle of New York. I'm sure you have heard of the Battle, so I find no need to explain it to you again.

Once back in Asgard, I had my trial, and I was imprisoned. You know this as well. But there was one moment in particular about my imprisonment I remember:

The moment I realized that all those times I wished I'd died at the hands of Thanos.... I had died. The man I once was was no longer there. I was now an empty shell of Loki Odinson-Laufeyson. With that said, I began to think. I was free from Thanos, but memories of him still haunted me. Was I free?

What is freedom?

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