The Sacrifice: Fallen | Loki | Book 2

Chapter 11: Harm

(Tom's P.O.V.)

I was death.

When we raced past the other cars, when I saw nothing but him dying in my grasp, when my wife shouted at me not to go faster, there I felt things I never knew I was capable of feeling. I had memories, his memories, and I had thought I could never reach a bottom so deep, so dark. I never thought I could kill, kill someone with my bare hands. This frenzy, was this what murderers felt? Oh, the harm I could do!

Caroline screamed. I looked to her. Impossible, she looked just like the night we - I gasped. No, not ever again. It had been my fault, all my fault, all because of him, just like now. I slowed down. Never again. 

Time passed. I don't remember how I got here, nor how I'd gotten out of the car, nor how she had run after me. He was standing there, grinning at my face, and I imagined how I would take a stone and smash his face beyond recognition. With every fiber of my body, I wanted to kill him, drink his blood, put fire to his remains and laugh as he burnt. 

It was then that I realized how much I loved Caroline, because I stopped - she made me. Holding me back would've been ineffective, I was ten times stronger than her. But she didn't need physical strength - she ran past me, turned around, ran into me, locked my tightly in her arms. Like a wild animal after an anesthetic injection. I halted, froze, then pressed her against me. 

I could have cried then. Had I wanted to do all those things I imagined in front of her? Would I made myself the monster I thought Loki was? I looked up, he had his hands clasped behind his back, not at all defensive. He knew I was coming, why didn't he - 

Ah. 

The following conversation went in one ear and out the other, I didn't listen, didn't care. I had been played, fooled, I had almost lost - if she hadn't saved us with her love. 

Memory, oh, memory. I took part in our verbal exchange like a zombie. He hadn't gotten what he wanted, which displeased him, and now he had to revert to old tactics. Provokation. I let him do some, until I thought - why not? It wasn't as if I had never punched him before. My fist made contact with his jaw before he could see it coming. 

"I see, you desire a game."  

A game, Monsieur. Perhaps it is you, who desires a game.

"You will have your way, mortal. And you will regret challenging me, Loki, the God of Mischief and Lies."

His word deflected off me. Both of us, we had always known. The rivalry, all the jealousy, it had never yielded. I stared back at him blankly. I had heart, it beat despite all of his power.

From our time in one and the same body, I knew he had feelings for her, even if it was easier to see he was an insentient monster. He was jealous and possessive, unscrupulous, violent. If Caroline chose him, my world would collapse. She would soon realize how he was poison, if she had not already. What coward would raise a hand to a woman?

I shook off these thoughts. She couldn't choose him, she simply couldn't. It would be the most cruel tragedy. He would do anything to separate me from Caroline, to prevent her from falling in love with me all over again. I had to end it all, but how? 

My train of thoughts was interrupted. He had not struck back, hadn't reacted at all. I had been taken to my limits, to my human and moral limits, I couldn't take this masquerade any more. I'd rather have him hit me twice as hard back than this unpredictable game. This dangerous game.

"Come with me, my dear."  He took her hand and lead her away. 

What was happening? Why didn't he do something about me? Why did she follow? Oh God, I was turning insane!