Madness of the Serpent

The spirit had not known what to expect from the human place called Germany, but it certainly had not been the enticing lights, the beautiful structures, and the graceful-looking humans.

When it said so, as they traveled in a ground vehicle toward their destination, Loki explained that Germany was the country, and they were entering a city called Stuttgart. According to the Jotun-Asgardian, they were going to be "honored guests" at a celebratory event attended by "the very wealthy to assuage their guilt over accumulating their silver and gold through exploitation and debasement".

A few moments prior, the spirit had been forced to watch as Loki shackled a human's mind at the air terminal. This had been the first time it had actively seen the sceptre wielded on another being, and it observed warily as the azure orb flared to life. Loki pressed the tip of the blade into the human's chest, blue veins traveling up the neck while tendrils of golden energies floated in the air, their ends sticking against the human's temples. His eyes had briefly filled with pure darkness before displaying the crystallized blue that was the signature of Loki's mind-thralls, while the golden threads retracted back into the orb to return to their source: the mind-jewel.

Its expression of pity for the human was concealed rather poorly, as Loki frowned in its direction with his pale eyes narrowed dangerously, obviously displeased from its reaction. But this show of intimidation was not as effective as it had been previously.

The spirit had surmised after its endangerment by the armed humans that it was too valuable to destroy without cause. His obvious concern for its wellbeing, though it came from a twisted origin, was a strong indication that he would not severely harm the spirit.

This conclusion was based on a pattern of behaviors, but if Loki's actions were driven by madness and his mind was truly twisted beyond logical thinking, then the spirit would never be truly safe while in his custody regardless of his intentions.

The most intelligent course would be to remain passive and follow his instructions, but it balked at the idea of being obedient to the Jotun-Asgardian. Of being another of his thralls. It was captive to Loki's whims and impulses, but that did not mean it had to feign approval of the cruelty his actions wrought.

Its thoughts were interrupted once the human returned with a long, sleek, jet-black ground vehicle, which Loki pulled the spirit into with more force than was required. But it bore this in silence, having no other choice unless it wished to agitate him further.

The interior of the vehicle was deceivingly large, and it did not have to sit near Loki due to the open space. Disturbingly, when it took a seat as far away from the Jotun-Asgardian as it could, he simply followed and sat adjacent to the spirit.

It had noticed he did this often, but only to the spirit. Loki rarely stood near his mind-thralls, the few it had glimpsed in its captivity. In fact, he had seemed aloof and distant, even repulsed when it came to the physical space he shared with the species he sometimes referred to as "mortals".

When it came to the spirit, Loki seemed to not care if it wanted a space of its own or not.

The spirit was relieved when their journey came to an end. Staring out of the darkened windows at the glittering city occupied its attention, but not enough to fully distract it from the pale gaze of Loki, whose presence seemed to stifle the very air inside of the transport.

The mind-thrall brought the vehicle to a halt in front of a grand structure with white columns and multicolored lights, illuminating the façade with a rainbow of dazzling lights and elegant banners which immediately entranced the spirit.

This seemed to amuse Loki, and he took its arm with more gentleness than he had shown previously as he pulled it from the vehicle, the mind-thrall obediently holding the door open. The spirit watched the enslaved human with apprehension, but its attention was pulled away by Loki's words.

"Come. See with your own eyes and not through opaque glass."

As the spirit fully viewed the creatures who walked past in their resplendent garbs, it studied them in open curiosity. The magnificence of the humans surpassed even the glittering structure they were flocking towards. They wore elegant, flowing garments, and the females seemed to be especially dazzling, winking jewels and gems hanging from their forms.

"They are… beautiful," it said in an expression that was almost identical to the way it had shown its wonder of the starry skies.

"No," Loki dissented, though his voice was neither cruel nor angry. His fingers uncoiled from around its flesh and in a curious gesture, he weaved its arm under his so they were linked together. Without any explanation, Loki led it toward the vast arch where the humans were slowly filtering through, the sudden closeness of the numerous and fragrantly-scented bodies causing it to hesitate. Loki continued to move forward, his other hand placed firmly on its trapped arm as he forced the spirit to keep pace with him.

It noted other pairs of humans were physically bonded in the same manner, mostly males and females, though this was not always so. It assumed the gesture was one of benign affection, though in the spirit's case, it knew Loki used it as a cover for his unyielding control.

The Jotun-Asgardian's actions were never affectionate, nor benign. Had he once been capable of such gentleness, in the time before the never-ending darkness?

They fully entered the ornate building, and instead of following the crowd of shimmering humans to the larger, grander room, Loki led it into a side antechamber. The space appeared to be some sort of waiting room, with severe-looking green vegetation decorating each side of a…

"We are beautiful," the Jotun-Asgardian responded in its ear, his voice low and silky.

Two elegant, statuesque beings stared back through the room-length mirror. One was svelte and refined, the other shapelier and almost completely unrecognizable.

The spirit glanced first at Loki, his pale eyes glittering as he drank in their reflections with a look of satisfaction. Once it shifted to its own reflection, it could not pull its eyes away.

Its black hair was twisted up and folded on the back of its head by a device it could not see. A delicate layer of tiny prisms which reflected a rainbow of hues hung from a thread around its neck, which it had not noticed before and was too light to feel against its skin. Its garment, which it had found impressive before, was now glittering like living starlight, the fabric layered upon its body to accentuate its shapeliness. A sharp cut down the front of the fabric revealed pale skin and displayed just a hint of the curves of its chest, which appeared to be a feature only the females of the species possessed.

Even the still-unfamiliar face was strangely alluring and appealing. Its dark eyes appeared to glitter with a lightless beauty, its cheeks shadowed in a fashion which highlighted its facial structure. There was a subtle color around its eyes, and it realized Loki had done more than merely manipulate its manner of dress. He had also augmented its natural features to become more enticing while hiding the evidence of its previous violent encounters.

The spirit's wounds were completely concealed, both the injury to its face and the discoloration on its neck. It was a far different being than the pale creature in the subterranean restroom, staring at its own reflection with hollowed, flat eyes.

Loki seemed far too pleased with the amount of attention it paid to its image in the room-length mirror. But he had not been wrong. There was something about the pair of them that seemed to set them apart – even the humans seemed to sense this. As he led it back to the entrance room, down the blood-red carpeting toward the main space, they seemed to subconsciously avoid walking too close to the Jotun-Asgardian and the spirit.

Loki did not lead it into the main room proper, but near an array of seated humans who were coaxing melodious, lyrical, harmonious vibrations from instruments large and small alike. Deft hands and thin, delicate tools weaved an enchanting spell into the air.

"Enjoy the music, my dear, and I will return shortly."

The spirit almost did not hear his words as it focused completely on the dulcet, melodic tones, letting the rhythmic sounds wash over its senses.

It nearly forgot to breathe.

This was life made audible, beauty crafted into acoustic vibrations, emotions intensified from aural perceptions. The sounds which filled the air were reminiscent of the vibrations a star made, though a being would have to have the right sensors in order to witness the vibrations for what they were.

It could close its eyes and glide among the stars, ignoring its frail body as it was transported across the universe to the cosmic playground from whence it came. Its imagination was taken over and its senses almost intoxicated as it drank in the powerful experience.

Its jubilant reverie was broken by a human's inquiring voice, causing it to open its eyes and stare blankly at the male who had spoken.

"Verzeihen Sie, gnädige Frau. Möchten Sie die Mini Crab Cakes und den Salbei und Thymian Frikadellen zu versuchen?"

The human was carrying a circular, metal tray containing several odd-looking morsels of strange smelling food-stuffs. He wore a formal garment similar to other humans carrying silver trays of edibles.

"It does not understand," it replied, the language unfamiliar to its ears and the few phrases he had spoken not enough for it to find comprehension in his words. Or, perhaps more likely, the increased intelligence and rapid acquisition of knowledge the mind-jewel had granted it had begun to fade with time.

"My apologies, madam," the human replied, smiling in a charming manner, though there was an undertone of confusion as well. "Would you care to try the mini crab cakes? Or perhaps the sage and thyme meatballs?"

The spirit looked down at the objects on the offered tray and tried not to appear repelled by the odious smell wafting from them, not wanting to offend the human.

He seemed to understand its reluctance, and he said, "There is a wider variety on the banquet table near the left side of the hall. Please, help yourself to whatever you wish."

"You are willing to give it nourishment?" it asked hesitantly, somewhat surprised by the politeness and friendliness with which this human treated it. From what Loki had impressed upon the spirit, it would not have expected them to offer sustenance, let alone for nothing in return.

"…yes, madam," the male responded, his smile seeming to falter as he stared at it with something that bordered on concern. "All of our guests are welcome to partake in our exquisite cuisines and delectable desserts on display."

The spirit hesitated, slowly realizing it did not know how to socially connect with humans. Loki had merely wanted to teach the spirit how to hate them, not how to communicate with them. By assessing the expression on this human's face, it had already erred in some way.

"It will ingest what you have generously offered." The spirit paused, before adding, "You are kind, for a human."

He blinked in confusion before bowing his dark brown head and said, "T-thank you, madam," before continuing to weave his way through the throng of attendees, glancing back with an alarmed look on his face.

Satisfied with its first real interaction with a denizen of the planet, the spirit left the humans playing their fascinating instruments and made its way to the area the male had indicated, staring with widened eyes at the long, elegant table laden with more food than dozens of humans could eat at once. The spirit placed its face near enough to inhale the vast variety of scents, only able to guess at the large assortment of biological edibles and how they would taste.

It did not understand the sudden odd expressions of the nearby humans, and it ignored them. What other purpose was there to having a sense of smell? To differentiate between poisonous and nourishing food-stuffs? Though it supposed at a gathering such as this, they would be certain to provide foods that were edible and not lethal to the human digestive system.

It soon discovered that the most repugnant items were often in various shades of brown and white, while the more colorful fare did not have a particularly strong smell. It paused near the brighter foods shaded in a variety of red, orange, yellow, and pink. Mimicking the masticating humans, it took a flat, hard disc, and placed some of the nourishment in its center. It then took its first bite, placing one of the small, reddish purple spheres into its mouth.

Delightfully sweet juices flooded its mouth, and it almost exclaimed out loud its sudden surprise and enjoyment at the pleasant experience. It inserted another of the round sweet things into its mouth, hardly having swallowed the first.

Human foods were wonderful! Why were not all of the assembled humans feasting on such delights? Surely there was nothing else as pleasurable and engaging at this gathering than eating all of the delicious edible materials?

It truly pitied the humans for having such incorrect priorities.

The spirit began to draw more glances as it pushed an orange, crescent-shaped edible into its mouth, its stomach suddenly proclaiming how ravenous it was as it began to swallow, juices dripping down its chin. It could not remember when it had eaten last. A solar cycle ago? More?

Next it tried a small, red item covered in what it believed were tiny seeds. As soon as it bit into the luscious food, it did give an exclamation of pleasure. Tingling sensations ran along its tongue as it almost drooled from the sudden flow of saliva. The humans openly stared now, but the spirit did not care as it shoved another succulent edible into its mouth.

Gasps and shouts of alarm suddenly slashed across the distant ethereal melody, and it paused in its current endeavor to fill its stomach with as much sweet-tasting sustenance as possible, its eyes following the line of sight of every still human in the room.

Standing in the middle of the hall was tall, elegant Loki. He was holding down a squirming human, pressing the male against a cracked statue of an Earth creature. The Jotun-Asgardian retrieved a silvery, clawed instrument from inside of his clothing that it had not noticed before, his pale eyes cold and hard.

As the instrument opened to reveal a blue light with spinning, sinister blades, its eyes widened and it swallowed, hard.

Loki plunged the device into the human's eye without a moment's hesitation.

The pandemonium was instantaneous. Dozens of panicked humans, like a stampede of terrified prey animals, moved as one towards the front entrance.

The spirit placed its half-empty plate onto the banquet table and slowly walked towards Loki. Until it saw the red. All of the red, trailing down the pale stone of the statue, dripping from the gaping hole in the head of the human. The eye was still attached, but barely, ensconced in the jagged maw of the glowing instrument.

The humans passed on either side of it, as if it was parting a sea or a river, but it had its attention fully planted on the mad Jotun-Asgardian. Because surely he was mad. What could move him to such butchery, especially when he had just accused the humans of such base instincts?

Once he seemed satisfied with his actions, Loki released the eye from the now-still human, discarding the bloody device as a demonic smile crawled across his lips.

The building was now almost entirely empty, save for the unmoving form on the statue, and a second body on the ground.

Loki looked up at its solitary form and grinned perversely.

"They do flee quickly, do they not? Like beasts before a wildfire. Not a brave heart among them."
The Jotun-Asgardian moved around the blood-anointed stone, his eyes glittering as his lithe form began to shimmer.

Soft, black fabric was replaced by dark leather and dull armor, and golden metallic elegantly-curved horns towered from the tarnished helmet which now adorned his crown. A thick, vibrant green cloak unfurled from his broad shoulders, almost touching the ground as it hung elegantly along his back.

"I did promise to show you the true nature of these mortals, and I will always keep my oaths to you," he said in a low, silky voice as he walked past the spirit, who turned as he moved past. It did not resist as he reached back and placed his palm on the bare skin of its back, firmly pressing it forward.

"You will witness this truth, and you will believe, as I do, that the mortals are doomed without the bit and bridle they long for."

It did not understand this last bit of phrasing, but as they entered the open, warm night air, the wicked blade of the sceptre stretched into existence like a sickly grin, the end of the apparatus lengthening past its original size as an extra blade sprouted along the underside of the orb. As Loki raised the golden weapon to fire a powerful bolt of azure energy at an oncoming ground vehicle, it had little doubt it would soon discover what he meant.

The spirit watched the upturned vehicle slide behind them, turning forward as it felt Loki's firm hand move from its back to its upper arm. Its legs stopped moving, its feet were bound to the ground, and its entire body froze as Loki bent to speak into its ear.

"Not that I do not trust you to keep your vow to never leave again, but I shall remove the temptation from presenting itself. For your own benefit, of course."

The spirit watched him with growing panic as it realized it was truly stifled, unable to flex or move a single muscle. The conflict hormones flooding its paralyzed body made it want to shiver in distress, but it could not move. It was utterly confined within the trappings of its flesh, and its soul silently screamed to be freed.

But it was helpless to do anything but watch as Loki growled at the panicked humans.
"Kneel before me."

He had cornered the humans in some kind of pavilion, multiple illusions of his image penning them in like the frightened creatures they were. They did not seem to know the images were purely theatrical, created by Loki's ability to manipulate light energy.

"I said… Kneel!" Loki bellowed thunderously, demanding absolute obedience with every ounce of his will, raising the sceptre into the air and bringing it down in a flare of blue light, his mirages mirroring his gesture in a display of profound intimidation.

It was little wonder the humans did not doubt their authenticity as even the spirit found this exhibit to be threatening.

However, as Loki was commanding them to prostrate themselves, he did not do so with the golden apparatus. He did not demand their fealty with the power of the mind-jewel. It wondered why he did not simply force them to obey his authoritative words.

As the humans, one by one, slowly and then with a dread finality began to bow before him, the answer became clear. He wanted to prove an idea: Loki did not need to force them into submission. They would come willingly enough on their own.

"Is not this simpler?" Loki asked them with a deceptively kind tone, slowly wading through their kneeling forms in the guise of a benevolent leader, arms spread wide.

"Is this not your natural state?" He continued on, and the spirit watched him, stock-still as it felt its skin begin to crawl from the coldness behind Loki's words as he slowly lowered the sceptre.

"It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power... for identity."

Loki extended his hand over the kneeling mass, his fingers slightly curled as if he could hold the whole of their existence in his palm.

"You were made to be ruled. In the end… you will always kneel."

And there it was. Loki's so-called truth, laid bare on the heads of the humans.

Not one of them moved. Not one of them spoke.

But then… one human did stand. An older male, his hair sparse and white, his skin wrinkled and his back bowed. But it was bowed by age, and not by cowardice or deference. There was an observable defiance in his eyes. Pride, stubbornness, a refusal to acquiesce to the Jotun-Asgardian's demands.

"Not to men like you."

Loki gave a small chuckle, clearly amused by this lone human, and said:

"There are no men like me."

"There are always men like you."

The spirit felt some emotion stir in its chest. A small flicker of brightness. Of hope.

A hope which was quickly extinguished as Loki spoke, leaving the spirit with a growing sense of dread that filled its mortal shell as he raised his bladed weapon.

"Look to your elder, people. Let him be an example."

Loki lowered the sceptre and pointed it at the human. The wicked azure bolt flew from the sceptre and struck… a circular blue, red, and silver barrier.

The blue bolt flashed back to Loki and slammed him in the chest, knocking him to the ground.

The spirit stared in shock at the human who had easily deflected the sceptre's power. He wore strange, form-fitting blue attire which also covered most of his face, and he held a circular metal red, blue, and silver shield with a white star in its center which he held in front of the elderly human.

The blue human stood from his kneeling position, and slowly walked toward the prone Loki, who was staring up at him. The spirit could not see his face, but it was familiar enough with his behavior to easily imagine the look of annoyance and frustration that would be present.

"You know, the last time I was in Germany, and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing."

As if the human was bestowing renewed courage within every human he walked past, they began to stand, one-by-one.

"The soldier," Loki remarked hotly, using the sceptre to support his weight as he rose to his feet, his curved horns proudly rising above the humans who still huddled in fear. The spirit could hear the grin in his voice as he laughed. He apparently knew of this warrior, and was not at all troubled by his presence.

"The man out of time."

"I'm not the one who's out of time," the human responded without pause, and a small dark aircraft appeared from above, hovering like an airborne predator seeking its next meal.

A female's voice was broadcast across the air, presumably from the air vessel:

"Loki, drop the weapon and stand down."

The female voice had barely given her demands when a stream of blue fire hurtled toward the flying machine, which deftly dodged out of the path of the destructive bolt.

Panic broke, and the humans scurried to their feet as they fled into the night.

The spirit remained frozen as it watched the human in blue throw his shield at Loki, striking him once more, and they began to battle as the cries and screams of the humans rent the air.

Loki briefly overpowered the impressive human, throwing him across the ground and knocking aside his disc when it was hurtled in his direction. The human warrior tried to land several blows, and was struck from behind with the sceptre.

The Jotun-Asgardian, his face fierce and void of his earlier mirth, pressed the butt of the sceptre against the back of the human's skull.

"Kneel," he demanded, hatred seething through his teeth.

"Not today," the warrior replied, undeterred and unafraid as he knocked away the sceptre, kicking Loki across his torso. The Jotun-Asgardian fell back, responding to the blow by grabbing the human across his chest and tossing him several feet across the bricked courtyard.

The spirit continued to observe the intense battle, its chest tight with anxiety at the violent conflict and its inability to move. It was startled as music began to play, overwhelming the sounds of the two fighting for dominance over the other.

The music was not the harmonious, heavenly tones of the elegant instruments from the human gala, but a blaring, heavy, jarring rhythmic vibration which seemed very bizarre considering the lethal situation.

The noise seemed to distract Loki for a moment, and the spirit looked up as a bright light descended from the stars. Its eyes widened as the light came hurdling down at an alarming speed, flames erupting from the miniature comet as it blasted Loki across the ground, the golden weapon flying from his hands.

The Jotun-Asgardian cried out as his back slammed into the steps, and the whirlwind force which had descended from the sky stood in front of him, a resolution to harm clear in its body language and stance.

The starbound creature appeared to be some sort of… metal humanoid.

The metallic being raised its arms and several contraptions and lights lit up on its forearms and shoulders as it prepared to strike again.

"Make your move, Reindeer Games."

The spirit was unsure how it happened – whether Loki's energy manipulation had faltered, or if it had done something of its own to break its invisible bindings. But it found itself rushing forward despite the precariousness of its footwear, coming to an unsteady halt in front of the prone Jotun-Asgardian, placing its own body as a physical barrier between the metal construct and Loki.

The metal being hesitated, staying the various weapons that had extruded from its armor, and a hollow voice rang out from somewhere in its body as the warrior in blue stood next to him, regarding the scene with tired dismay.

"Step aside, lady. You don't know how dangerous this guy is."

The spirit did not move or speak, instead staring down the myriad weapons trained on its face.

A low chuckle sounded from somewhere behind, and it glanced over its shoulder as Loki grinned upwards, holding his side as he attempted to mask the pain from his features.

He did, however, slowly raise his arms in submission, the golden horns and most of his battle armor fading as he dismantled his illusion.

"What can I say?" Loki remarked amicably, shrugging as he gave a lop-sided smile to the two aggressors who had overpowered him. "The women of Earth adore me."

Notes