𝐀𝐧 𝐔𝐧𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝕃𝕠𝕜𝕚'𝕤 𝔸𝕗𝕗𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖

A method to my Madness

A loud alarm going off startled you awake and you groggily stretch to turn it off by reaching for the clock next to your bed. The clock shows 6:15 a.m., your typical Monday morning wake-up time.

You sit up in bed and glance around your room, but you're at a loss; you have no recollection of getting home from the bookstore last night.

You think hard, and then suddenly felt a tightening in your stomach as images ran through your head. Depictions of you visiting the church and meeting Father Tom, a hidden room, filthy games, and....Loki.

What a crazy dream, you thought to yourself. One strange, terrifying, and yet sexually exciting dream.

Dismissing it, you quickly raise from your bed and head for the bathroom, flicking on the light before entering. Knowing how it takes a while for the water to heat up in the shower, you decide to go ahead and brush your teeth as you wait.

While you're brushing, you glance in the mirror and stare unamused at your dishevelled hair, and notice how rough you look today.

The mirror in the bathroom begins to fog up, an  indication that the shower is now hot enough and ready to use. You turn around and take off your nightdress before opening the shower door.

You step inside, hoping the heat will help soothe you, but the first thing you feel is a searing pain as the water hits your skin. You look down at the area of your body that hurts and notice red markings and what appears to be a bite mark on your breast.

"No, no.. it was a dream. It can't be" you say aloud, staring at the bite mark on your breast. You grip on the hand rail to steady yourself, taking a deep breath to calm the sudden onset of nausea.

After a momentary pause, you quickly turn off the shower and dash towards the mirror. You frantically swipe away the steam from the glass, and stare at the blurry image of yourself.

You look at your left breast in shock; there were obvious teeth marks, and above it, near your heart, are subtle red cuts.

You wipe more steam away from the mirror with your palm and let out a gasp as your wound becomes more visible. Now it was plainly obvious that the subtle red cuts were in fact the name "Loki," etched into your skin in a very precise script—extremely fine, delicate letters, leaving it bright red and a little uncomfortable.

You felt extremely nauseated and had to rush to the toilet. Kneeling over the toilet bowl, you grab the rim for support as you vomit up the contents of your stomach. With your head whirling, you ease off your knees and sit back. Once the spinning stopped, though, the events of the previous evening flooded back into consciousness.

"It wasn't a dream." you whisper.

Your stomach still felt off, but you muster the strength to stand up. While you stand there, you clutch at the sink, not yet brave enough to look in the mirror again.

You inhale deeply and hold your breath for a moment before letting it out. A breathing technique you do to calm your anxiety.

"Just look at it again with a clear mind" you tell yourself. Hoping that now the shock of it has passed, you can think more clearly.

You lift your gaze slowly and take in the hazy reflection in the mirror. You move your hand to Loki's name, feeling the skin already start to raise from his technique. You continue to trace the outlines of each letter with your fingertip, repeating it over and over.

You remain there, mulling over and analysing the events of the previous evening. After a brief moment and a continuous fixed gaze, a wave of emotion surprised and overwhelmed you. You realise that you are genuinely delighted.