Author's Note: Let's try a first chapter, shall we? Also, I don't own anything here, this is based on Thor.
My father's words echoed through my mind as I held on to the staff Thor held, both of us dangling off the now broken Bifrost. He said it with no sympathy, no love, and no appreciation. Odin grasped Thor's hand, and I saw my brother look at me with pleading eyes, asking me not to give up. But our father just looked at me with his cold, blue eye, dubbing me as a third wheel, an extra weight. I thought he would have been proud of me? He had always told Thor and I about Joutenheim and the Frost Giants that thrived there in the frozen wasteland, my birthplace. I wanted to be like Thor, rid Asgard of its enemies! After all, he did say that he would destroy them all when we were boys. Little did he know his younger brother was one of those monsters. I can still remember the smile that father had as my older brother talked of genocide at such a young age. Now we are men, and when I went to act on that, hoping to make my father proud of me for an act of strength such as Thor's, I was disapproved.
Thor's head jerked upward to my father, knowing that Odin's poor choice of words was a punch to the gut. Then my older brother looked down on me, like he had done all these years. I had no place here in Asgard. I was an outsider as a Frost Giant baby and I am an outsider as an Asgardian. The man I called father showed blatant favouritism to his blood child, while the one he rescued in war was contained in the library, like a prisoner, like a war trophy. I had to get out of Asgard, out of the place that had deserted me. Come to think of it, I don't believe I even deserve to live now. I am a disgrace with no strength, only brains and magic. That's all I am, that's all I was. I looked at the staff that I grasped, then I looked to my brother, into his sea blue eyes, to say goodbye. The vortex rumbled beneath me, a pool of power, pressure, and certainly death. It should be a quick death; I'm willing to suffer for some time, but not for eternity. Falling into the collapsing vortex would be a noble death perhaps it would be enough to make Odin believe I had some of the strength that Thor fought with. I looked into my brother's eyes, feeling the hatred of years of teasing, bullying, and favouritism building up inside of me. But then there were feelings of love and brotherhood, memories of him defending me from Lady Sif when we trained, from Odin when we argued, and the Warriors Three when they pestered me for using magic instead of strength. Surely I envied him for his strength, but he was my brother, and he was there in my times of need, as I was for his. And although he wasn't the brightest of the group, he could read me like an open book.
"No, Loki!" Thor pleaded as he tightened his grip on the spear, tears and compassion filling his eyes as he looked into mine.
And I let my hand slide, and the vortex pulled me into its iron grasp. I felt my body being dragged from my so-called family, and began my fall to death. I kept my eyes on my brother as I fell, his hand reaching out to me, his voice crying out as I drifted further and further away from him and Odin. As I expected, Thor kept his gaze on me, even as Odin began to pull him up. I did the same, I held my gaze upon him, using every moment I had left to say goodbye to them. Then I glanced at Odin, and he looked at me for the first time as his son.
As they shrank, the power of the vortex grew, the pressure around my body building. I couldn't see anything except light. The pressure became so immense, my armour began to bend. The air in my lungs was forced out, and I began to choke on my tongue. It was loud, everything seemed to be falling apart around me as I fell. My ears rang painfully, and I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping death would come quick and put me out of my misery.
"Fight, you idiot! Fight!" My conscience screamed at me.
I tried to move my legs in an effort to try and fight the vortex, but all I felt was pain. My legs had broken. I felt a scream escape my throat as my ribs began to snap and their sharp, jagged edges now dug into my lungs and the edge of my heart. Blood began to flow from my nose, and my eyes felt as if they were going to pop at any moment.
"Now isn't the time to die, Loki! This isn't your time to die! Now fight before it's too late!"
It's no use, I am nothing. All I do is read and play tricks. That's all I am. A trickster.
Blood began to fill my chest.
"You can do things that no one else can! You perform spells with ease! You have complete control over the knives you throw in battle! You defeated Laufey!"
That I did.
My body was now contorted in a back breaking position, but my spine held together.
"Hurry! Fight before it's too late!"
I drew my arms together, catching sight of my hands, which were broken in some places but not enough to stop me from doing spells. Putting them together, I focused in on them, blocking out the intense pain I was now going through. I couldn't see anything now, everything was red, my eyes had filled with blood instead of tears. I felt my heart pumping, my bones breaking, and my magic surging to my fingertips. I was ready.
Using all the energy I had left, I pushed it out to the space around me, creating a skin-like residue around me, reducing the pressure inside of it. I let my head fall back as the vortex continued to drag me. My body throbbed with pain, reminding me of my injuries. I then proceeded to heal and mend myself. And my magic erupted from my chest, travelling inside me like electricity, going everywhere on my body. My legs began to move now, the bones mended together easily except for my ankle, it remained snapped, the blood in my chest began to drain, gaining breaths each time. But I couldn't heal everything. My ribs were still broken, my left arm had been turned outwards, my shoulder exhibiting the most pain, but the worst had yet to come. I had broken the bubble that kept me from bone breaking pressure for a moment to heal myself, and it had its consequence. While my armour was strong, one piece snapped off from the group, and traveled into my side, making blood resume filling my chest.
"We're almost there, just hold on a bit longer."
Almost where? I asked myself, wincing in pain as the shard dug deeper, starting to peek out on my other side.
That's when I felt my bubble disappear as the pressure around it dispersed. I was no longer being dragged by the vortex, no longer floating, I was falling.
Flailing my arms hopes of creating a bit of a drag in the air to slow me down, I continued my plummet to the ground below. I turned onto my back, catching site of a sky filled with light echoing through it in various strands, the space around it covered in dark cotton.
Interesting. I thought to myself.
That's when I felt my body make contact with the hard ground below me. I must have fell a good 150 feet, perhaps more. Air rushed out of my lungs, winding me as the force of my fall travelled through me, my arms setting themselves in an outstretched position, popping out my left shoulder. As if Thor had put Mjolnir on my chest again, I just laid there on my back, arms outstretched, my jaw open, the air gone. I held my gaze to the sky, watching as the dark clouds dispersed into white ones, the blue sky resuming in its place. My face just held a relaxed position, my mouth open, trying to force air through my flattened lungs and windpipe. It wasn't long until I felt the pain in my head, like a hammer had crushed my skull, I closed my eyes to try and focus in on my magic. Nothing. I had drained myself, and I was too weak to even move. I was out of energy, and if I stayed in the position I was in for too long, I could very well die.
Starting to breath, I began to move my fingers and toes, smiling a little at the small victory that I hadn't severed my spine. Beginning with my wrists and ankles, I made small circles in the ground around me, it wasn't long until I was reminded of my broken ankle. Grimacing, I sat up, using my right arm for support, letting my left arm dangle from its painful position. I sat there for a while, leaning to the right, my legs outstretched, slowly putting up with the pain. Taking a deep breath, I knew I had to get up, I just needed a moment to prepare myself for it. I looked up, closing my eyes, taking one last deep breath before getting up, feeling the sun dance on my translucent skin.
"I can do this." I told myself as I turned onto my side, bracing myself on one knee and both hands.
I gritted my teeth in pain as my shoulder exploded in pain, but I'll deal with it. With that, I gave myself a little jump of my feet, my broken ankle shifting painfully at the sudden movement. I shuffled at the sudden pain, making it worse with each step. Hopping a bit on my right leg, I was brutally reminded of the shard in my side with a shot of pain in my chest.
"Right." I remembered I hadn't mended my ribs yet.
I glanced down at my side, frowning with each small movement. Light bounced off the piece of the golden armour that now stuck out on both sides of my abdomen. Placing my hand on it, I gave it a little pull, hoping to remove it.
"Ahhrrg!" I cried out as the metal shifted inside of me. "I deal with you later."
Balancing on my right leg, armour penetrating my sides, shoulder on fire, fingers broken, ribs snapped, chest slowly starting to fill with blood, I looked around, examining my surroundings.
Blue sky, flat ground, brown mountains looming in the distance, cars echoing in the distance, looking almost like a desert, and the site of buildings in the distance, Loki nodded. He smiled as he realized he was in New Mexico.
He spoke its name in a menacing tone, as he started off toward the town, limping with each step, cradling his arm with the other. Black hair ruffled slightly, green cape torn up and flying in the wind, blood on his sleeve and dripping from the side of his mouth, he set his eyes on the buildings, his green eyes deep in thought. He moved his fingers closer together but nothing happened. He frowned at the failed attempt to heal himself with the little magic he had left. Then a sound caught his attention, a sound of a young girl crying. He knew a bit of a trick, that required little magic, magic that he had, magic that he would use once he found the poor child. And with that, he continued walking, a villainous smile approaching his face.
"Someone to drain." Adding on a chuckle that seeped with poison.
Author's Note: And there you have it! I thought it was time for a story with chapters and cliff hangers in it. Have an idea of what Loki is thinking? Read and Review, please! This only the beginning…