When God is gone, and the Devil takes hold

A Story by CaitlinM

A drabble challenge from Tumblr. Loki is just a little more than broken.

Loki clutched his face, his sharp nails digging into his eyes. The voices were everywhere. Telling him, making him do things. Worthless, they said, evil. God is gone, freak. Who ever sought it good to create him was mistaken. He was mischief wrapped in lies hidden by some twisted enigma not even he understood. Pressing his fingers farther, he let out as scream. But not of pain, of a relief so twisted only he himself could find solace in it.

Blood streamed in the rivulets down the sides of his pale face. His vision was beginning to blur, but he could not bring himself to care. The farther he went, the better he felt. His relief, however, was short lived, when a pair of delicate hands pulled his own away from his marred eyes. He knew who it was, for only one person would think to visit him, Hela. The only one to visit, even of his own children. Why she would ever want to be near such a paranoid wreck such as himself, he had no clue. But alas, here she was.

He watched through his ruined eyes as she reached for a spare wash cloth. He tended to do this so often in fact, that a reserve of wash cloths were kept to clean himself up with. He faintly heard something along the lines of, “And you just got done healing too.” The voice was too sweet to be any of those in his head, so it had to have been Hela. He felt the cold wetness of the cloth press against his face and he felt like shrieking. But he didn’t. He simply sat in silence as she cleaned the blood from his eyes like it happened every day. Which It did, at least recently is seemed to.

He was oh so tired of this. When would the torture end?! The voices in his head came back once more, mixing with the pain and confusion. The taunted him relentlessly. Useless, they called him. burden, they said. Oh dear Odin, make it stop! He hadn’t realized the horrified sound he had made until Hela dropped what she had in her hands. He didn’t mean to. It was troublesome to bring his torment into the real world.

He sat in utter exhaustion as she cradled him. His vision finally fading to a sheer blackness. Pity it was only temporary.