Tom Hiddleston and Loki Imagines - Bk. 1

Loki - The Destroyer Pt. 4

Your POV

He was still ever so gentle as he laid me down onto my bed. I nearly blew my cover as he brushed a piece of my hair around my ear and placed a tender kiss onto my still lips. I wanted to press back, to let him know that he didn't have to suffer, but I knew this is what I must do.

Secretly, before Frigga passed, she had been teaching me all her tricks, all the skills she had passed onto Loki and then some. I liked to call it the Mastery of Mischief, but she warned that doing this for the wrong purpose can lead to mayhem. And after seeing what became of my homeland, I didn't blame her.

She said to use it whenever absolutely necessary. Well, I like to think that if she were here now, she would give me a smile of approval, for nothing else has seemed to stop the fighting.

Once the door closes and I hear his footsteps fade down the hall, I spring up. Opening my closet, I take out a fake body, one made of wax and wearing an identical dress, and lay it where I previously was. Since they barely know about human decay, they will think that we stiffen that quickly.

I change out of my dress, dab some food coloring on the dress, and tear it where the holographic icicle was. Putting some clothes and other necessities in a bag, I exit through the window, camouflaging myself so others couldn't see; although not safer, it was less risky running into another person.

Within moments, I was at the caves, hidden and forgotten portals to the other realms. Once upon a time ago, Loki had shown me them, and we had caused all sorts of mayhem and mischief on the people. Sometimes, we would came out here with Thor and Jane and the others, all taking a week to adventures. Now, I go through them alone.

I find myself back on Earth, back in New York. It seems nothing has changed, except for the new fan merchandise of the Avengers being sold on every street corner. I'm surprised their fame is still as strong as ever; it has been a few years.

I take a stroll down the streets, familiarizing myself with them once again. I find my favorite coffee shop, the pizzeria Mom had gotten food poisoning from, the clothing shop that caught on fire when I was five. It felt so right, so at home, but at the same completely strange.

Before I got lost in my own jumbled feelings, I found myself stopping in the middle of the somewhat empty street. From a nearby alley, I heard the cry of a child. I run toward it, but in the empty aisle, I see nothing but a dumpster and a blanket, something bulky underneath and shaking near the end.

I take a good look around me before entering with caution. I knew well enough that this was beyond dangerous, but there was a child at stake. (Besides, I trained in Asgard. What can people do to me now?) I carefully walk inside and gently lift up the blanket. I nearly scream, for what was revealed was a child, no older than three. His eyes were open, his frame frail and thin. Already there was a rat eating away at his hand.

And what was even scarier was that he looked like me, as if he could be my son.

A hot tear escaped my eye as I lowered the white sheet. I looked around. Surely the yelp I heard before didn't come from him. But the further I walked into the alley, the more nothingness I saw. I would have turned around, but a small toe caught the corner of my eye. I turned around, and there was another child, about five-years-old, huddling inside a wooden crate. I bent down, and she shriveled up more.

"Hi there." Her trembling increased. "I heard you cry out, and I came to see if I could help you." She held her knees closer to her chest.

I looked at her closer. She was just as thin as the boy. In fact, her features resembled his. It was like I was looking in a looking glass, through a parallel world of the past, what my life could have been.