A means to an end ~ Loki ~

1

I didn't kill them on purpose.

I mean why would I? Killing people is messy and time consuming. I mean you kill them then you have to deal with the body and then the evidence and fingerprints bla bla bla.

Hence, it was an accident.

And, spoilers, my life now sucks.

I have been on Earth for the length of one bloody day and already gotten myself into an assload of problems.

Turns out the little girl I pushed, by tripping, I mean what kind of monster would kill some little kid in purpose.

Anyway.

This girl ended by gaining an ass load of attention and now I'm here a day later being escorted through a maze of hallways down into the prison cells.

Oh and to slam a pin to the balloon, I'm stuck sharing a cell.

Sharing a cell.

I mean if you're going to arrest me at least give me some space I mean I killed someone!

Oh and another pin, the little leader of this hell hole for 'powerful beings" or something hand picked my little cell mate.

Lucky for me, I have a plan.

Sort of.

Half a plan.

Okay I have the format.

My plan; meet my cell mate, establish dominance, become a power in the society of inmates.

Simple.

I mean how hard can it be? Plus it's probably going to be some bulky old man with a beard pretending he's buff but is actually there for petty theft.

Okay, so I may have been wrong.

The guy standing infront of me, body of a god.

And not like some buff god with muscles and blonde hair, not at all.

This is full Greek god.

His raven shoulder length hair falls slightly in-front of his face as he flicks through a leather bound book, his eyes tracks across the page. Speaking of. His eyes! They are like the gems of the deepest ocean, never meant to be seen by the naked eye. They are of the clearest green like the vibrant emerald of a fern.

Holy son of Aphrodite.

"Done staring?" He drawls, standing with a grace I didn't think was possible. He nears me, his book set down on the table as he prowls towards me, a predator eyeing up his prey.

Analysing.

"Hi." I says slowly, my voice miraculously staying steady as I race through my thoughts.

The man stands a good meter away his hands held behind his back as he examines me, an odd look in his eyes before it is covered by cool indifference.

"Lady y/n, yes?" He says slowly, stepping away from her and sitting on his bed, his voice soothing and deep.

The cell is generally small with a simple table sat by the front and another by the back in between the two beds pressed against each side of the white room and a glass wall staring out into the hallway of identical cells all the way down he halls.

"Yeah." I says breathily, sitting cross legged on the second bed and tucking my hands under my legs. "Who are you?"

He squints at me, "Loki." He says finally.

"Cool." I mumble, looking around the room awkwardly, "what you in here for?"

"Treason." He shrugs, his emerald eyes not leaving my face.

"Accidental murder." I answer his unasked questions.

"Accidental murder?" He mocks, suddenly interested.

"Yeah, some little girl." I reply, leaning back against the plain white wall.

"Never did like kids." He mutters under his breath before looking back up at me and frowning.

"What?" I asks.

"Pardon?" He replies quickly.

"Never mind then." I says slowly, staring out into the cells surrounding us. "Hey has anyone ever escaped here?"

"No." Loki replies simply, sitting up ok his bed and reading through his book again.

"No like into another cell?" I eye the bulky male beside our cell with thick warts growing along his grimy face as he stares directly at me, a malicious smirk on his face.

"If your worried about them don't be, most are to dense to even know if the cell was wide open." Loki replies.

"What about him." I nod towards the man with the warts. Loki glances up and frowns at the man.

"Look away Fjor." He snarls, "not her."

The man immediately looks away, huffing loud enough for us to hear.

"What's with him?" I ask, shuffling uncomfortably in the pristine sheets of the bed.

"They let us out for a few hours tomorrow, if you didn't know." Loki explains, ignoring my question, "one each month. Fjor is own to become extremely... desperate."

"Gross." I mutter, getting what he's suggesting before yawning loudly.

"What are you?" Loki asks peculiarly, eyeing my pointed ears and feline like features.

"A magical horse." I sass, "I'm sleeping now, try not to like murder me or something." I tell him, sinking into the bed and facing her back to him, not really caring about the risk of sleeping in a cell with some random dude.

He doesn't reply but i roll over trying to get comfy and see him standing by the front of the cell staring out into the hallway, holding his hands behind his back.

I drift off to sleep after he returns to his bed, laying on his back his breathing evenly to the illusion of relaxation.

See I know better than to think he's sleeping. He seems like the kind of guy that never sleeps around others, mind to clouded by paranoia.

I'm not good at many things, but reading people is not one of them.