Sanctuary

Ch 4 - Sanctuary

Loki's left alone in the dark once more to ponder his decision. Although he'd already made up his mind, he couldn't help but think about the request. It was a rather strange one. No good thoughts came and whatever this Tesseract was did not peak his interests. He hadn't noticed it really but his heart was still pounding fast. The air was so thin in this confined space. A constant struggle to breathe. He could smell it in the air, the lack of oxygen. There was this steadily growing headache. For that he was sure there were a number of contributing factors.

He ignored the pang from his broken bones. For now he just focused on controlling his breathing, his mind a blank slate. Loki furrowed his brow, sliding his thumb up underneath the collar. There was probably at least two inches of space around his neck and he was starting to feel the effects of the device. With his magic concealed there would be no healing himself. He cursed under his breath as he laid flat out onto the hard floor. Loki spent the better part of the hour setting his ribs back in place. Just taking in the feeling.

It wasn't long before he let out a string of vexatious laughter which resonated in the enclosed space. Surly ringing out into the halls but he didnt care. It didn't matter how much it hurt. He couldn't help but believe this was some kind of divine punishment.

The universe works in mysterious ways, had it not been for his foolishness. He mentally kicked himself. Wallowing in self pity would only get him so far. His outburst grew diminutive. The pain in his chest flourished into something he hadn't experienced in a long time. He dwelled on it, savoring the feeling for he knew it was only going to get worse from here on out.

In order to survive he needed to stifle his pessimism. Unfortunately he was a realist, and no saint. This truth was etched in stone. Yet whatever happens he would not yield. They'd like to think they can break him. But he was stronger than he'd let on. So he told himself. He had to play the part. He was too prideful for anything less. But this was rough, he wasn't accustomed to physical pain. Still he couldn't let them know that.

...

Loki hadn't kept track but it'd been several hours since they left him. He woke to scurrying footsteps down the hall. His nerves perked when there was a creak at the door but he didn't move from his place, just waited. He hadn't noticed it until now but they'd stopped. He heard that bellowing voice speak.

"Get up, we're here."

Loki didn't acknowledge his capture, instead staring blankly at the floor. Heavy clad footsteps did little to ruse him. He'd set his defiance in stone. Still it didn't matter whether he wanted to or not, they'd get him to move. The titan planted a massive foot beside his head with such force that rang in his ears. Loki flinched, still his eyes remained closed, reluctant to budge.

"Where exactly is here?"

Loki spoke firm but he wasn't able to hide the discomfort in his voice. It was obvious he'd picked up on that already. His patience had run out long ago and he didn't hesitate to hoist him off of the floor by the arm. Loki grunted as he was pulled onto his feet, feeling the sting in his chest as his ribs were disturbed. He pulled against his grip in reaction but was only strung towards the door.

He forced his legs to work as they filled out the dark. Several ugly creatures congregated around him as they exited. He'd only caught a glance of them in the artificial light as it braced his eyes but he recognized them as Chitauri, an inferior race. They were a particularly nasty bunch. There haven't been many documented instances of their activity in a couple decades. Although they were mindless, it seemed someone had found a use for them.

Loki noticed one of them step inside and collect his Asgardian armor. Probably for a prize or something, doubting he'd ever see it again. He bit his lip, anger flushing through him as he was led away. He paid little attention as he was led through the halls, although he could feel their eyes watching his every move. He kept his head down and his mouth shut, pushing the pessimism away for now. He focused only on breathing. Loki swallowed hard, his throat sticking from dehydration. Then they stopped.