ONLY FOR YOU | Loki

CHAPTER 66: A RED SMILE

Tw: a LOT of blood and violence, some gore, and mentions of torture

     FOX DOESN'T SHY AWAY FROM BLOOD. Not anymore— she's seen too much of it to get squeamish now. Some nights she thinks the stuff is worn into the fibers of her gloves. If not the blood itself, then maybe the smell, at least.

     If not her gloves, then her mind.

     Sometimes she'll smell blood just walking around her apartment. Sometimes she'll have to do a double-take because some stranger on the street was wearing a red shirt or holding a red bag. Sometimes no matter what she cooks, she can never get the iron aftertaste quite out of her mouth.

     It hardly even registers anymore.

     But this?

     This is harsh, even for her. This is ugly, even for this room— God only knows what horrors this room has seen. Interrogation room one.

     The blood is everywhere; there's an eye on the table, in full view of its owner. Its living, writhing owner. He's missing more than an eye, but those pieces are gone, or at least out of view. The woman in the wolf mask glances back at Fox, her head tilting a little. Her mouth— the only part of her face that Fox can see— is stretched into a wide, bloody grin.

     "Occupied~," she damn near sings, sounding delighted. The man strapped to the chair (if he can even still be called that anymore, mutilated as he is) can't speak, but he lets out a strangled noise that could be a scream.

     Olivia slams the door shut, turning back to Dagger. His whole body has locked up in fear. He's not good at hiding his emotions yet, not after the barest two months of training. She tries to center herself.

      "Let's see if two is empty," she suggests, and her voice comes out more evenly than she expects. He looks between her and the door.

     "What, is that— is that normal around here? Is that just— do you do that?" he demands, and she hears the wobble in his voice. It grounds her instantly.

     "If you were going to get squeamish, you picked the wrong career," she snaps, forcing herself to ignore that he had even less of a choice than she did. "Just be glad you're not in the chair, and focus on staying out of it."

     "Answer me," he decides, planting his feet even as she tries to brush past him and move on to interrogation room two. She grabs him harshly by the front of his shirt.

     "You," she advises him, her voice a low snarl, "do not give the orders here. You follow them. Never forget that again. I won't be so nice about it the second time." His breath catches, and he nods once. She releases him, continuing on towards the room. He follows, after only a moment's hesitation, staying a few feet back.

     "...yes," she tells him quietly after they round their second corner. "But not like that."

     He doesn't say anything, but she knows he heard her because he's suddenly hurrying to follow behind her more closely, like he usually does.

      They don't talk about it again.

***

      After a cursory visit in the dead of night to determine which apartment is Wolf's and a long discussion with Bruce about boundaries, Olivia is finally ready to carry out the plan.

     Unfortunately, she forgot a key step:

     Telling Loki.

     That's how she got here, sitting in Wolf's apartment with Loki lounging in one of the dining room chairs. He showed up at the worst time— he has a talent for that. Now, he's going to be sitting in on this woman's torture and eventual murder.