Loki's Daughter

The Stone

"Let go of me! Let go!"

Hela shrieked and flailed as the man dragged her down a long hallway. She wasn't sure where she was anymore, but what she did know was that this man's grip on her arms hurt and he smelled like he hadn't taken a bath in years.

The man growled a little. "Keep moving," he ordered and shoved her forward towards a closed door. Hela, of course, decided to do the exact opposite and began to try and run back down the hall. She didn't know what was behind that door, but she did know she didn't want any part of it.

"No! I don't want to go! Take me back to my brothers!" She began to kick and scream, much as she had done the first time she had been up close and personal with Loki.

"I am not fond of tantrum throwing little girls, Hela," the man hissed, "I suggest you keep moving." And to further his point, he roughly shoved her against the door and opened it, so that she fell inside the next room.

This room resembled a sitting room. It was dark, and even though there was a single window the curtain was drawn and it didn't seem to be very bright outside anyway.

Hela scrambled to stand and began to back away from the man who currently blocked the door. Then in one quick charge, she tried to rush past him. This led to her being grabbed and thrown back on the floor. "Enough," he hissed. She flinched.

The man took a few calming breaths and straightened his back, looking the girl over and regaining his confident smirk. "There's a good girl," he said slowly, shutting the door behind him.

Hela slowly climbed back to her feet and took a few steps back from him. "Who are you?" she snapped at him, her breathing labored.

The man gave a smile. "Forgive me, I'm being uncivil. My name is Zeph," he replied in a calmer tone.

Zeph straightened the dusty jacket that seemed centuries old he wore and tilted his head up, looking down at Hela. Hela swallowed thickly, taking a few steps away from him. "All right, what do you want?"

"Ah, that is the question, is it not? You see, I do not want something. I need something. A stone, in fact. And you know where it is." His tone was sweet, but beneath it there was venom.

Hela's eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said slowly.

Zeph laughed. "Oh, yes you do. Don't toy with me, child." His eyes narrowed and he took a step closer to her. "You know where the stone is, and you'll tell me where it is."

"I don't know! I swear, I don't!" Hela's head turned left and right as she searched for an escape. "I don't know what you're talking about, now take me back to my brothers so we can get to our father!"

A sick smile spread over Zeph's face. "Yes," he whispered, "The bold rescue. But tell me, child, who do you think told you where to find those keys? Who kept you moving? Who pushed you on when you wanted to give up? Dear girl, the only reason you made it as far as you did was me!" His voice had raised considerably and he was shouting at her now. "If not for me, you would have never found that second key, nor the last."

"But why? Why would you help me?" Hela hadn't realized she had backed herself against the wall until she felt it pressing into her back. She stared at him, eyes widened.

Zeph only scoffed. He walked over to a bar of sorts, made in a Victorian way. He went behind it and produced a bottle from somewhere behind, and a glass. "Don't suppose you drink, do you?" he asked sarcastically.

Pouring the bottle's contents, he picked the glass up. Inside, a purplish red liquid swirled. He brought it to his lips and finished half the glass within moments.