Into the Abyss

Corrupted lies

It was somewhere unfamiliar, but so similar to his eyes — as if he knows a place by the same descriptions—

Looking up again at the strange being before him, his body is a mix of exhaustion and pain and pure sense of insecurity, unsettled crawling at the bottom of his guts, it felt like his inner sensibility is nagging his mind to react, to do something — but he — he is trapped. Heart thundering in his chest, he can feel the metallic taste at the end of his sore throat. It felt like it was a long time ago, the last time he was — not harmed.

His own mind is a maze of questions unanswered, a false sense of satisfaction by the heated uncolored energy surrounding him — smothering his scared aura and forcing itself inside—

He wanted to beg for mercy, forgiveness for something he can not remember committing.

(Loki!—) the voice that held sheer horror hunted his senses, but it seems locked away in a dark corner in his mind—

(Loki, No—" blonde hair and blue eyes held a strange sense of grief and sadness, strong grip held his pale hand with so much force it hurts his arm joints. "brother—")

His breathing is coming rage fast while he tried to take small gulps of the thick air around him, blood rushing through his ears—

Something is missing, something is wrong! But the thought is slipping away from him slowly—

He locked eyes with an unnatural colored one, mind racing and so calm at the same time, like something is forcing itself around his mind and taking — and taking — and taking—

"My child." He heard the sick feeling of disgust twisted his inside at the parental tone the purple creature used, the unreasonable anger at the smile he gives Loki, the hatred—

He blinked slowly at the being, blood thickly running down at the side of his head, something glowing at his shadow.

"You shall not remember anything except fearing and obeying me." A soft touch, not anything he felt before, swept his eyebrows, he hangs his head on his chest, does not have the energy to keep it up for any longer, he whimpered when he felt a hand yank his head back up again, forcing his eyes to meet his — his—

His father.

The last thing he remembered running wildly in his head is one poor statement—

Don't disappoint your father.

*****************

There were shouts, pants, and yelling coming from the throne hall, two different voices mixed together in a spar regular spar match each one month cycle between the two siblings to prove which one of them held power and which held weakness upon themselves.

Loptr knew this match wasn't one he could prove in it that he was worthy of their father's approval, but that doesn't stop him from seeking it each time he was thrown down by his sibling's spear force, the feeling of failures and punishments never left its taste from his life.

But he tried

He tried circling his hands to gather his magic energy one more time, one last chance to impress, to prove that he is not less or weak.

And so, he gathered the remaining of his energy for a last counterattack when Proxima Midnight, one of his father's children, charged at him from behind with a heated yell, knocking him down, across the hall with a sneer up her darkened lips. Proxima loomed over his falling body, the hatred that covered her face and the so much loathe made his pale skin shiver as she advanced on him, brandishing her weapon with thirst and lust to hurt him, it was then that he felt the sharp pain through his left shoulder, there was no mercy in her moves— nothing but pure odium, Loptr tried to not cry out as his sister pulled out the tip of her weapon, ready to do it again and again and again with no doubt—