Twisted Fate || Loki Odinson

1.

Five years.

It's been five years since I remade myself in Bethel. Five years of fragile safety. Five years of weaving a web of lies. Five years of creating a fake persona. 

Every smile, every conversation, and every mundane detail of my life here-- it's all a mask that hides the truth. 

No one in this town knows my real name. They don't know who I was before I arrived or how I suffered. They see Cassie Jones, not the shattered girl I left behind.

Some days, I almost believe the lie myself.

I glance down at the shot in front of me and with practiced ease, I grab the glass and knock back the lukewarm liquid. The empty shot glass clinks softly as I place it upside down on the bar counter. "Another one, Celia?"

Celia, the bar's owner, gives me a concerned look before pouring another. Her blue eyes hold a mix of worry and curiosity. "You okay, Cassie?"

"Just fine," I reply, my voice flat as I down the shot in one swift motion, the burn a welcome distraction from my thoughts.

"You know, I haven't seen you drink like this since... well, since last year on this exact day," she comments, her brow furrowing. "Is today significant for you?"

I hesitate for a moment. "Yeah," I say quietly. "Five years ago today, I came here and started over."

"Five years," she murmurs, surprised.

"Yeah," I echo, staring at the empty glass and feeling the familiar ache in my chest.

She leans closer, her voice softening. "We're glad you're here, Cassie. It doesn't matter where you came from or who you were. What matters is who you are now."

Her words stir something inside me, and I manage a faint smile. "Thanks, Celia. That means a lot."

She gives my hand a reassuring squeeze before moving on to other customers. I watch her for a moment, appreciating her kindness. 

She's one of the few people who've seen glimpses of the real me, though even she doesn't know the full story.

After a few more shots, I settle my tab and stagger out to my beat-up red pickup truck. The night air is crisp and the road home stretches before me.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, I take a deep breath, trying to steady my spinning head.

Maybe I've had too much to drink.

A sudden movement startles me. A deer stands in the road, its eyes reflecting the truck's headlights. I swerve, fighting to control the skid. My truck tears off the road and into a ditch. The impact slams my head into the side window, and the airbag explodes into my face.

As the bag deflates, I feel a cool trickle of blood down my forehead. The world around me starts to blur. I fumble for the seatbelt, but my hand goes limp, and I slump back in my seat as darkness envelops me.

|| || ||

I materialize on a long, deserted road, the bitterness of recent revelations still fresh in my mind. The night air bites at my skin, but I am unfazed. As I contemplate my next move, a sudden noise draws my attention-- a vehicle wrecked in a nearby ditch. My eyes narrow with curiosity, though my initial instinct is to leave.

It's not my problem. 

Yet, something compels me to approach. A figure slumps in the front seat. Intrigued despite myself, I step closer and peer through the windshield. Inside, a young woman lies unconscious, blood trickling from a gash on her forehead. I hesitate only briefly before pulling open the door and gently shaking her.

"Darling? Can you hear me?"

She remains unresponsive, her pulse weak but present when I check. With a sigh, I realize I cannot abandon her here.

Placing a hand on her forehead, I delve into her memories, searching for her home. As the location forms in my mind, I lift her slight frame into my arms. A vibrant green glow surrounds us, protective and swift as it whisks us away from the crash site.

Moments later, we materialize inside a quaint and cozy house. Carefully, I lay her down on a couch and examine the wound on her forehead. With a wave of my hand, the injury heals, leaving no trace behind.

I take a moment to study my surroundings-- the shelves adorned with pictures and figurines, the modest yet comforting furnishings. It's a simple and inviting space. 

Returning my gaze to her, I find myself lingering. She is unexpectedly beautiful. Her dark hair frames her face, and even in unconsciousness, there's a strength in her features that I find intriguing.

Perhaps I should stay until she wakes. After all, I am the reason she still breathes.