Purrfect Serenity

Loki couldn’t believe his luck.  Did Odin really think this banishment was going to be a challenge for him?  What was the old fool trying to prove anyway?  Casting him down to Midgard to live as – of all creatures – a cat? 

Huh! 

Not only would he have nine lives to toy with and enjoy, but Loki himself could not have picked a better animal to be stuck as.  Midgardian felines were independent, self-sufficient and suited well for solitary existence.  No, there would be no great lesson learned here, save that of Odin realizing what a feeble-minded, ridiculous notion it was that this scheme would somehow redeem Loki; somehow make him repentant for what he’d done here in New York.

He sauntered down the sidewalk of the busy city on his dainty four paws, tail stuck proudly in the air, practically invisible to passers-by.  He was free to come and go as he pleased, free to stay where he wanted and no one seemed to bother him.  It was precisely the isolation and liberation he was seeking. 

Loki occasionally stopped to preen himself, watching the idiotic humans go about their hum-drum lives.  They made him nauseous with their incessant chatter and their one-track, cattle-like minds.  He was right in trying to rule them.  They were a pointless people devoid of intelligence.  They were beneath him.

Loki was quite satisfied with his situation until the sky above the city darkened; menacing large grey clouds blotting out the sun.  The Heavens opened up and frigid November rain pelted down upon him.  He scampered into an alley searching for some place to take shelter.  Loki found an overturned cardboard box and ducked into it, shaking the chill from his coat.  He peeked out; his furry little black face and nose poking just around the corner of the box. 

Midgardians bustled by, rushing to get in out of the rain.  Loki saw several couples pass, arms wrapped around one another or walking hand in hand.  Some were laughing, sharing umbrellas as they jumped over puddles. 

He saw an old man take his jacket off and hold it over his wife’s head in an effort to protect her from the icy onslaught.  Something about the act touched him deep inside and Loki cringed back into the box, alone. 

He’d never been in love.  He barely felt loved by his family let alone a woman.  Loki realized then that he never really gave it much thought.  It was always Thor and him growing up; brother alongside brother.  There was no need for him to seek companionship or foster a relationship elsewhere. 

Quite recently though, it had become brother against brother.  Now he didn’t even have Thor’s annoying, embarrassing, suffocating over- protection to comfort him.  Loki’s thoughts lingered on Thor.  Through it all his brother never gave up on him; never stopped believing he was worth saving.  Loki knew he didn’t deserve Thor’s faith in him.  He would have killed Thor that day atop Stark Tower if he could have.  He would have killed them all….

He lay in the box with the rain beating relentlessly around him.  If it kept up, the makeshift asylum would become too soggy and probably collapse on him.  It figured.  Just when he thought things were finally going well for him, Loki was reminded yet again how truly insignificant and unwanted he was. 

Weary from harboring years of malicious spite and constantly keeping up his front, Loki fell asleep; curled up tightly like a round ball of black fluff.

***

He awoke to the sounds of tin trash cans banging about.  For a moment Loki thought he was back on Asgard, and he was ready to curse whatever servant or guard was causing all the raucous. 

Before he could even open his eyes, a large fat hand reached out and snatched him by the scruff of his neck. 

Loki instinctively let out a shrill shriek and a loud hiss, throwing out a sharply clawed paw to ward off his attacker.  He twisted and turned, suspended in the air by whatever had a hold of him.  Every movement he made sent hot sears of pain shooting through his neck and down his spine.