The Hel Experience

-near Ragnarok- Vanaheim-

By that point, morality was a long lost memory. Even though I still cared for Balder, stopping my plans to destroy all of Asgard and take over it's remains wasn't an option- even though I expected myself to probably scar him for life and be thrown out of his life with all the force he'd have left. I'd use him for murder, destruction, and sick ways of burning Asgard to the ground. If there was any good left in me, he wouldn't be able to see it.

Still, killing my father was weird for me to imagine. Even if I sent my dead to finish him, it would still be my fault, and my hands would officially covered in his thick blood- my blood.

The problem with Surt, is that I automatically expected him to have some protection against the weapons. He couldn't possibly have been gullible enough to grant me swords that could destroy all of Asgard, and not have something to protect himself against it. That meant that, if I sent my dead to kill him and failed, he wouldn't rest until I wasn't a problem anymore.

Besides those two, I still had other problems. Ragnarok was getting closer and closer, time passing quicker than I'd expected, and- of all the things I still had to do- killing two men was one of the ones that could wait until the day of Chaos itself.

One of those problems was getting into Asgard. If all went well, Thor would have no idea what was going on and there would be no problems, but if anything had gone wrong in the mean time, he wouldn't invite me in, and the whole plan would be doomed.

I squeezed the strap of my backpack with my frozen hand. The winter had spread through all of the nine realms like a wildfire of ice and all-consuming cold. Everywhere I went, the earth was buried in thick layers of snow. My lips were blue and freezing, and my arms bare. At the circus, I'd left my only coat laying on a table, knowing that it's black fabric could attract unwanted attention. People were too kind for their own good. If they came over to help the poor woman in the freezing snow, I would have to kill them, because matters were getting too dangerous for anyone to be allowed to know where I was.

As I neared the forest, I started to feel slightly nervous. Thor was the only one in our family who'd never really given up on me. At least, Loki had also never left me, but only because I was of use to him. At first he still cared... Over time I was just the outcast he could blame all his wrongs on.

"Hel!" the vague figure in the distance yelled. I raised a finger to my lips to shush him and hurried over- my legs digging in deep in the snow as I ran. "I missed you. A lot has been going on. I'll just be honest, I... I almost killed Sigyn. Your father saved her, so I guess- to repay him through you- I thought I'd try convincing Heimdall to let you into Asgard so you can show off your talents! Perhaps Odin will then see that you've found something to do with your life... That you're a worthy Asgardian citizen."

"You're too kind!" was all I managed to reply.

He smiled down at me. Something in his eyes told me he was surprised that I hadn't said anything to comment on Sif's near-death experience, but also that he was glad I hadn't. "So, how have you been? Tell me about life."

I managed to hide my grin. I knew Heimdall would listen to Thor, no matter how crazy what he said may sound, and that- therefore- the gate to Asgard was opened to me. Just by faking my innocence and Loki using Thor's love of Sif (the love that had gotten so extreme, that he almost killed her when he found out she lacked some of it) the end was nearing with each heartbeat.

"Oh, I've been fine. Just the usual," I replied.