The Rise of Hel {Loki Laufeyson} Book Two

Chapter Forty-Four

Voices whisper in the wind around me, telling me to give up, surrender, but I refuse to listen and push forward, knowing that I have a job to do and I need to finish it.

Looking down, I notice a trail of blood that leads down a hallway to my right. I have the sudden urge to yell out, "NOPE!" and run out of the building but I know that that's not an option. Part of me wonders where the blood came from - is it hers? Is it someone else's? Either way, I take a deep breath and press on, following the scarlet trail. It leads me to the auditorium doors which are wide open, beckoning me to enter the huge room. I don't want to go in. I want Steve or Tony or Natasha or Thor to go in and do this for me, but deep down inside, I know that this is something only I can do.

I can put an end to all this suffering. All my suffering. All my friends' suffering. All suffering, period.

The room is lined with mirrors that project my image on each one of them. Looking around, I feel as if I'm in a rip off of Inception. I'm in a dream within a dream because nothing about this situation seems real and even though I know it is, I wish I could just pull out a top and spin it, only for it to keep spinning forever so I'd know that none of this is real.

Approaching the mirror, I notice that I look confused and scared in each image that reflects back at me, my face dirtied with dust and dried blood, some of it not my own. My hair is tangled, greasy. I pull it away from my face, tying it up into a ponytail and tightening it, acknowledging the intruder behind me in the mirror.

Hel.

I'd know that scarred face anywhere. Her and her goddamn perfect pale skin, long flowing dress, silky raven hair, blazing scarlet eyes. She's beautiful, even with that gory scar extending from her eye to her jaw. I smile because I put that scar there. A memoir of our first meeting. The first time I beat her.

I will do it again.

"How nice of you to join me." She smiles, folding her hands into each other.

"Well, you know me. Chivalry isn't dead." I watch her in the reflection, wary of her every movement.

She ignores my sarcasm, walking as she monologued. "I can honestly say that I was not convinced of your intelligence. I rather expected you to never show up and allow me to destroy your city."

"Well, sorry to disappoint." I retort and she smiles wider.

"Oh no. This should be fun. More fun than before." She assures me, stopping.

I turned away from the mirrors, facing her. "I bet - it's a funhouse in here. Speaking of, what's with all of the mirrors?"

"They're there to allow you to watch yourself die from different angles."

I raise my eyebrows. "Oh... That's nice." I smirk. "So, how about you come out to play?"

"Father once taught me never to play with my food, I intend to follow that order and torture my food instead."

"Yeah, yeah. That's nice and all, but you can't torture me without coming out and batting me around a little." My body suddenly jerks to the side, slamming into one of the mirrors, which shatters upon impact.

"Shit! I stand corrected. I guess you can..." I cough, getting to my feet. She swings her palm upward and my body floats above the ground, my windpipe blocked so I can't breathe. I choke, grabbing at the invisible force at my throat.

"You see, my powers have since grown. After our last showdown at Stark Towers, I decided that it wasn't right for a human to be able to defeat a god. That's when I started on growing my army, collecting their life energy and enslaving them to destroy you."