Home | Loki [Book Two]

Chapter Eight

Ten bullets, one place of impact. Each time I reloaded the gun and switched to a new target, I hit where I aimed. The one thing I could always fall back on: instinct. The thing that got me killed, the thing that was dangerous, but the thing that I could trust to stay the same.

After I woke up in the mini-hospital in the Tower, I had been told that I had lost more than triple the amount of blood anyone should lose. They had said that I would recover relatively quickly from that.

I wouldn't have such an easy recovery from the shattered bones in my leg. There wasn't much to do for it, only heal what skin could be healed, stick a brace on it, and hope for the best.

In addition, Hydra, or maybe Jane, had run some other experiments that would affect things like my reaction time, speed, and endurance, hopefully for only a short amount of time.

I'd turned to training and researching during the days after I was released from the hospital. I basically took over Stark's lab to use the computers; I spent more time in the shooting range than Natasha and Clint combined. I had locked more doors in those few days than I had in the past decade. I spent almost no time eating or sleeping.

I continued in that pattern for nearly a week: training, researching, loneliness, hiding. I lost track of the days and worked to find records of Mayhem. Or me. The whole ordeal just confused me.

Eventually, a tentative knock came to the door of the lab.

"I'm busy," I said without looking up from the computer.

"I found something on Mayhem."

Since I was too lazy to walk, I rolled over in the office chair to open the door. "Spill," I said.

"Can I come in?" Loki asked.

"Is that necessary?"

"Yes."

I sighed. "Fine." I stood up, kicked the chair to the side, and clicked the door locked behind him.

"You locked yourself away again," he said.

"I didn't 'lock myself away.' You could have teleported in here anytime."

"You know that's not what I mean. You're avoiding people and hiding again. I doubt you've slept or eaten, you probably haven't found anything on Mayhem, and I know you aren't following the doctor's instructions."

"I have been doing what the doctor said--"

Loki motioned to the wheelchair gathering dust in the corner. "You're supposed to be in that thing full time. And if I'm right that you aren't sleeping, you're getting ten less hours of sleep than you should be."

"I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me. Anyone can see that you are the opposite of fine."

"I'm serious, Loki. I'm fine."

"Look at yourself. You look like you're dying, if I'm being honest."

"I lost a lot of blood," I said defensively.

"It's more than that. The light in your eyes has dimmed. I'm worried about you."

"Don't. I'm--"

"You're not fine, Delta." He pulled me closer to him and wrapped his arms around me. "I've said this before, but I'll say it again: hiding won't do you any good. Try to trust me."

"I'll try," I promised.

"Thank you."

I pulled away. "Now, about that thing you found involving Mayhem. Spill."

"Right." He opened a book that I hadn't noticed he's brought in. "A small tribe on Vanaheim provided lodging for you a few hundred years ago."

"Anything else?"

"A little-known Asgardian explorer wrote a letter to his brother about meeting a 'rogue god' on one of his expeditions. She fit your description."

"Let me see." I snatched at the book, but he moved it out of my reach.

"I know you don't like the doctor's instructions, but they're for your own good," he said.

"The wheelchair is stupid, and so is the doctor."

"I'm not giving you the book until you use the wheelchair."

"Fine." I sat down in the clunky, impractical wheelchair. "Now give me the book."

Loki handed me the worn book, which was already opened to the page where the explorer's letter was.

Brother,

The most unusual thing happened the other day. If you wouldn't mind, please research with the following information:

While travelling in an unnamed realm, a cloaked local approached me. She only spoke to ask my name, which I gave. I was then taken through the local village and learned a little about the land and their culture, which I will disclose in a separate report. Upon returning to my ship, the local warned me to never return or tell the location of the planet to anyone, or she would "ensure I would be unable to disclose any more information ever." I inquired of her who she was, to which she responded simply "Mayhem, rewriter of fate."

It is my belief that the so-called Mayhem is a rogue god of some sort. Please research the records for this defier of Asgard.

Best of luck,

Jolstaag Tyrson

"I've heard that name before," I said, wracking my brain. "Tyrson. It's familiar."

"Do you think you read about him somewhere?" Loki asked.

"No, it's more than that. More like a mem--" White flashed across my vision, blinding me to all but a memory.

A village filled with people, some of which looked like they were from Asgard, bustled in the late afternoon sun. They recognized me, but questioned the foreign man following me.

I showed the man enough of the village to satisfy his curiosity, but no more. He couldn't know who these people were.

"I need you to come back to Asgard with me," the man ordered.

"I prefer to stay here."

"Allow me to rephrase." He unsheathed his too-large sword. "You are coming to Asgard with me."

"Allow me to rephrase." I kicked the sword out of his hand and held it to his throat. "I am going to stay here."

"Unfortunately--"

I cut him off. "You are going to go back to Asgard and tell no one of this place. Should you disclose our location, I will ensure that you will be unable to disclose any information ever again. Are we clear?"

Tyrson nodded quickly.

"I'm keeping this," I said about the sword.

As I was about to leave, he spoke again. "Who are you to challenge Asgard?"

"Mayhem, rewriter of fate," I said without turning back to him, and the world flashed white once more.

"Delta?" I heard Loki ask. "Are you okay?"

"They were fugitives," I whispered.

"Who were what?"

"The people he mentioned. They were people who didn't want to be part of their realm. They escaped."

"How do you know?"

"I know," I said, "because I'm the one who helped them escape."