Comfort

Chains Won't Hold Me

Muffled screams echoed down a dark and dingy hallway. Bloody footprints stained the floor and bloody handprints were smeared across the wall. Heat crept through iron doors, eroding the metal a little at a time. Wisps of smoke clung to the loose lighting fixtures. Any amount of movement was enough to set them off. A cat sneezing three towns away would be enough to get them swinging wildly.

Thor winced and shielded his eyes from flashes of light coming through cells. He could smell the flesh burning off the bone. His brother kept close, muttering curse words and flinching at loud bangs. At the end of the hallway, a door was padlocked shut. Thick industrial chains created zigzags across it. All the other doors had bars or a little window. This was plain reinforced steel.

'I'm guessing that's her room.' Loki whispered, eyes darting all around.

'I'm guessing you're right.' A disgruntled Thor replied, sick of the running commentary and jumpy at the environment. Prisoners grew more and more agitated as they neared. They could sense a change. So could she. She could smell them before they even set foot in the building. Odin had sent them to bring her back. After centuries of being stashed away and left to rot in square box, surrounded by the tortured and the living dead, she would rise again.

The brothers reached the end of the hallway, pausing outside the door. Loki stiffened. He could feel her. Power emanated under the door, seeping under the gap. It was intoxicating. To Thor it smelt like the smell of earth after rain. To Loki it smelt liked mangos. The set of keys grew heavy in Thor's hand. It weighed him down like an anchor. His brother rested a comforting hand on his arm. Thor nodded to him and set about unlocking the chains. A thick layer of rust had settled over each chain, flakes falling to the floor. Most of the locks were stiff, they hadn't been touched in decades. The final chain fell away, exposing the dirty and dull metal door beneath. There wasn't even a food slot.

'Are you sure about this?' Loki piped up. 'We can still turn back. Father said their were other choices.'

'I'm sure brother. I think it is you that worries more.' The God of Thunder replied. At this, Loki fell silent one more. Thor placed the final key in the keyhole and, without hesitation, turned it. With a low creak, the door opened painfully slow. Darkness. The only light in the room came through the doorway, partially blocked by two Norse Gods. No window. Just a vertical slab and a body strapped to it. There she was. A muzzle over her mouth and metal cuffs holding down her feet, hands, and torso. A grey jumpsuit adorned her frail figure, only her wild violet eyes could be seen, the rest of her face obscured by unkempt and unwashed dark brown hair. Loki's heart skipped a beat and he held his breath without realising. He hadn't seen her since she was carted down here, to Carvine Penitentiary on Midgard, after wiping out half of Asgard. She had been in exile for over five centuries, somewhere where her power was subdued and couldn't reach her home planet. So why had Odin sent for her? Why now?

Thor cleared his throat and stepped forward. 'Odin requires your presence. We know not why. But it is an urgent matter.' He said. Her response was muffled and unintelligible. 'What?' Thor frowned. More muffled noises. Loki rolled his eyes and moved forward to remove her muzzle. Upon removal she took a deep inhale, revelling in the smoke and the stale air. Her dry tongue crept out to lick her lips, eye lids fluttering in pleasure.

'Finally.' Her voice was dry and raspy. Hundreds of years of no use had caused her to all but lose it all together. Violet irises found their way back to Loki, the corner of her lip pulling up into a smirk.
'Loki.' She said, loving the way his name felt in her mouth.

'Deci.' He said, clearing his throat and avoiding her eyes. Deci let out a cackle which ended in a painful cough.

Thor brought the attention back with a, 'we're going straight to Asgard. The sooner we get out of this awful place, the better.' As if on cue, curdled wails swept through the room.