The Rise of Hel {Loki Laufeyson} Book Two

Chapter Twenty-Five

Their bodies are pale, cold, perfect.

Too perfect.

Makeup covers Victoria's face; Jonah's is just plain, his hair styled to it's usual side sweep. They look peaceful, as if they hadn't been shredded to pieces because of me.

Jonah's eyes are closed, but the scratches on his cheeks and eyebrows are still prominent. I shiver - the sight is haunting.

I want so badly to open his eyes, just to get a glimpse of those giddy, lively brown irises, but I know that the morticians have glued both his eyes and mouth shut - just as they did with Victoria.

I've always been afraid of the dead, always been afraid that if I touch them, they'll come back to life - especially in my fathers case. I didn't want him to wake up from his eternal slumber. I wanted him to rot in hell for as long as he could, just so he could experience half the pain that he put my mother and I through.

You see, my mother had urged me to touch him as a sign of respect for the dead, as well as a sign of affection, but I refused. I didn't want him to wake up from my touch. I wanted him to stay like that for the rest of eternity, praying that he was getting what he deserved in the afterlife.

But right now, that touch would be a miracle. So I touch him, stroke his hair, his face, taking his little hand in mine. I wish I could see him smile just once more, but that will never happen again... all because of me. All because of Hel.

Secretly, I vow to kill her on the off chance that I can. At least I can fight until my last breath. Maybe that's what she wants - to see my last breath. But I won't give her the satisfaction. Not today, not ever.

Someone places a hand on my back and I wipe my cheeks which are soaked with tears that I swear weren't there a second ago.

"It's okay. You can cry if you want to. I won't judge." Tony holds up his hands in surrender and I almost laugh. Turning back to Jonah, I sigh.

"He was only ten," I look up at Tony. "How could she do that to a ten year old?"

He shakes his head. "I have no idea, sweetie. I'm still trying to get past what she did to you." He skims his thumb over my bracelet. I look down. Even the scratches on the bracelet are gone. Those Asgardian elixirs are some strong shit.

"We should get to the church." Tony whispers gently after a while.

"I can't just leave them alone." I say, my heart rate picking up.

"Becca, we'll see them there, I promise." He gives me a look.

I think. "Well, can I at least get some alone time with him? Please?"

Tony's eyes soften and he nods, rubbing my back reassuringly. "Okay, I'll be in the car." I watch him walk away.

When everyone leaves, I slip out the Iron Man LEGO figurine from my pocket and place it in Jonah's cold hands, kissing his forehead. "There, perfect." I stroke his hair one last time and leave, running after Tony.

***

Everyone's eyes are on me. My stomach churns and I brace myself against the podium, preparing to read my eulogy. It's a terrifying thing, public speaking. Especially at a funeral - everyone's already depressed and emotional so why bother to speak about the deceased in the past tense as if the funny stories will make it any better?

Either way, I clear my throat, take a deep breath and transform into the grieving Addison Connors that I need to be. "If Skyson were here, I bet he'd say the same thing that I'm going to say. They were good people. Especially Jonah - so young and innocent, almost oblivious to all of the bad in the world.