Sanctuary

Ch 6 - Strain

He knew what would happen if he got caught. It was inevitable. At some point he didn't care. Anything was better than doing nothing so he didn't hesitate. When an opportunity revealed itself, he ceased it. He should've expected he wouldn't get far considering his luck these days.

It was like Thanos was waiting for him. Remembering that little conversation they'd had upon their arrival. He made well on his promise to beat him within an inch of his life. So close to freedom yet so far. He left Loki in a twisted bloody heap on the floor where he remained until his servants retrieved him. A deep gash across his temple with a cracked eye socket, broken back and numerous other bones.

Thanos wasn't too happy about the situation. He didn't understand. It would be in his best interest to wise up. Figuring he'd at least be smart enough to realize there was no escaping this place.

Day 8

Loki woke up with a splitting headache and audible wheeze in his chest. His throat was dry and sticking, lips cracked from dehydration. The scent of antiseptic burned his nose, hazing over any depictions his mind could manifest. His eyes remained closed, taking in the feeling.

It didn't take long for him to realize he was attached to machines. There was a thin hose running under his nose providing fresh oxygen. The other line running down his throat was less welcomed and as he regained consciousness it became noticeable. His brows towt as he attempted to make peace with this uneasiness.

Loki groaned as his forgotten senses braced his weakened state. He attempted to move but some other force prevented him from doing so. He quickly realized it was a hand holding him in place keeping him from wriggling against the cot.

"Easy big guy, there's a hole in your lung. It's stitched but shallow breaths." A voice cooed, sounding strangely friendly but to him as mere echo. His body roared with a fiery intensity with each inhale. Seconds rolled on as each breath became more troublesome to manage and even more agonizing to maintain. His eyes squeezed tight until the feeling passed, which it never really did.

It felt like he was spiraling. He laid there digging into the recesses of his mind for an explanation, finding it harder than he'd like to admit to stay grounded. He remembered letting go and that monster picking him up, claiming to be some sort of savior. Then his captures and mistreatment. His muscles seized at the thought. Thanos' ugly mug was seared into his mind. He remembered what happened. His aching body reminded him so. He grit his teeth. His breathing ragged as the memory of his failed escape plagued him.

Suddenly there was a prick in his neck so insignificant he didn't notice. Within moments the pain died down into something tolerable. He didn't question the sudden relief, silently thanking the source whatever it was. His sole focus became breathing, taking in slow shallow inhales.

Loki took a chance and even though his face was still swollen he cracked his eyes open. The right was near sealed shut still he managed to pry it open. It took a moment to clear his vision, not that there was much to see. Just another dark place, only this one was littered with strange lights and apparatuses.

Things that would set most on edge but he didn't think anything of it. They were mere discolored blurs in the distance. A tinge of pink and green isolated in jars on shelves mounted on the wall. Many of these chilling details within the room were a miss just accepted, never really setting in. Given he'd woken up under these circumstances; confined to a bed, no clue what lurks beside him. All in all everything considered he was unbothered.

"It's about time you woke up." He noticed the feminine tone. His eyes wavered lazily towards the utterance, finding it hard to focus on the figure sitting beside him. Only able to make out the silhouette of a woman. Her back was turned to him and for a moment he believed it was his mother, Frigga tending to him.