Desiring Loki

Here Comes the Devil

Sitting at my desk, I straitened the edges of my magazine. The worn glossy page intrigued me. I'd looked at it a million times, but for some reason I couldn't get enough. I lost myself in the fantasy of faded dreams.

The serious piece reported on the events we'd witness only a few years ago. It had receded to the corners of my mind like the rest of the horrors. Expect one memory. With one horror I recalled meeting eyes. It would not leave me. I stared again at the page. Loki. How could this man be as evil as they claim him to be? In his photographs he seemed so sad, so broken. I felt like I could reach through the image to--

Bang!

My ears popped out of my head as the windows shattered. Like the majority of my coworkers I cowered under my desk. I'd like to say that I was freaked out but hey I lived in New York. The least safest place on planet earth. The battle outside was just another Tuesday. This was the reality. Our insurance, that's what's scary.

Why? One word: superheroes. Of course I doubt they refer to themselves that way. I've heard whispers of names ranging from mutants, gods, avengers, and Tony Stark.
I don't know; I don't care. I kept my head down. I focused on my job. I was the youngest and best damned secretary downtown. Until I realized I parked my new impala on the street. Something (the hulk?) roared from a few blocks away. I calculated that I had time.

Racing down the stairs, I pulled out my keys. Almost there... a rocket hit the neighboring building. I ducked. My breathing quivered. Bits of metal and wires landed beside me.  I hoped my office, and the magazine I was reading, remained in tact.

I beeped my car. At least that was undamaged. I couldn't see the crazy people destroying New York so I jumped in my car and picked out an alley to pull it into. It still might not survive but it had a better chance out of the storm's path.

The sky lit up like the Fourth of July. On another occasion it might be beautiful. I glanced at the ruckus to see Iron-man fighting flying grey creatures. Great--another alien invasion. It reminded me to call my sister to sing her happy birthday.

Pulling into the alley, I thought about all the phone calls I needed to make to various contractors to fix the office. They'd be a long line already--

I hit the brakes.
Woah I almost hit a kid. I honked my horn. She stood there looking at me. She looked about five or six years old. Where were her parents?

"Sweetie? Get out of the way a moment. I need to pull my car forward," I told her.

Not moving, she looked at me sadly with her big green eyes. I wondered if she even knew English. She needed to get somewhere safe. I abandoned my car.

Walking towards her, I explained, "Hey I'm not going to hurt you. Let's find your mommy or daddy. Are you okay? Do you understand what I'm saying to you? Do you speak English?"

Another explosion vibrated the area. She jumped. Car alarms sounded from nearby. The girl wrapped her tiny arms around my legs. I stroked the her long black hair.

"There, there sweetie. Let's get inside where it's safe. I'm taking care of you now until we figure this out. Okay? Okay."

Gently, I picked her up. She buried her face in my chest. I'd always loved children and hoped to have some of my own one day. My focus on my career pushed away those dream. Yet this lost little girl called to my heart. I was a mother, if only for a few seconds.

We entered the empty lobby and tucked ourselves into a storage closet to wait out the battle. She whimpered.

"Hush little one," I said. I recalled a song my mother sang to me when I was little which scared away my monsters. I sang it to her softly, "A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain, Softly blows over lullaby bay, It fills the sails of boats who are waiting, Waiting to sail your worries away, It isn't far to Hushabye mountain..."