Files 2
"Is that what you want to know? If I’m still looking for someone to control me, to touch me as if they have the right to?”
A charged silence followed before Loki leaned forward, placing his glass on a nearby table.
“What Odin did was mark me, not shape me. I don’t need control. What I need is for all those bastards to pay for what they’ve done.”
Thor paused the video at that moment, his hands trembling with rage and sorrow. A knot in his chest made it nearly impossible to breathe.
“Loki…” he murmured, closing his eyes as the images seared into his mind.
He wanted to find the Grandmaster and make him pay for every word and every action. But above all, he wanted to hold Loki and assure him he wasn’t alone, that he wouldn’t have to face this ever again.
Thor knew he had to stay calm, but his anger burned like an unquenchable fire. “This can’t be left as it is.”
Thor, his heart heavy and his mind caught between fury and pain, pressed “play” again. In the video, Loki adjusted his position, his expression wavering between vulnerability and defiance. The Grandmaster’s voice, soft yet insistent, coaxed him to continue.
“So, Loki, is there anything else you remember? A particular moment, perhaps, when you felt he… tested the limits.”
“A particular moment. You want one? Fine. I must have been... twelve, maybe thirteen years old. I wasn’t the scared child hiding in corners anymore. But Odin didn’t stop. He just changed his approach.”
Loki’s face tensed, and the camera caught the clench of his jaw.
“He told me I needed to learn to endure, to be strong, to prove I could be a worthy son of his. So he decided the punishments would be more... ‘educational.’”
Thor’s breathing grew heavier. Loki took a sip of wine, this time longer, as if trying to drown himself.
“I’d been practicing something—a speech I was supposed to give at school—but I decided to do it my way. I didn’t ask for his help or his opinion, and when he found out, he said I needed to ‘learn not to defy authority.’”
Loki nervously rubbed his hands together, his short nails scratching his own skin.
“I remember we were at the house. In his study. He locked the door and told me to sit down. I did because I knew what would happen if I refused. He stood in front of me, arms crossed, looking at me like he already knew how it would end.”
He paused, his chest rising and falling quickly. In the video, Loki swallowed hard, clearly forcing himself to continue.
“He ordered me to stand and come closer to the desk. He said he wanted me to ‘understand my limits.’ He grabbed my arm and pushed me against the edge of the desk. His voice wasn’t loud, no... It was low, almost as if he relished every word. He told me he wouldn’t tolerate ‘this kind of disobedience’ again. He grabbed my neck—not hard, but just enough to remind me he was bigger, stronger... that I couldn’t do anything.”
Loki’s voice broke slightly, but he continued without looking up at the camera.
“Then he started with his ‘lessons.’ He’d touch my neck, my shoulders, even my face. All with that calm that made it worse because I knew he was completely in control. And he didn’t stop there. His hands moved down, squeezing my arms as if he wanted to leave marks, and he said that if I kept up that attitude, I’d always need reminders like this.”
Loki pressed his lips together, his hands trembling in the video.
“The most humiliating part wasn’t just the words or the touch. It was the way he made it last. He ensured every second would be burned into my mind. And when it was finally over, he’d say something like, ‘I hope this helps you think about your choices.’ And he’d let me go, as if nothing had happened.”
The recording ended with an uncomfortable silence. Loki looked up at the camera for the first time, his expression empty, as if hoping for something impossible—understanding, or perhaps a way to erase what he’d just said.
Thor turned away from the monitor, the air in his room growing heavier.
He’d endured many emotions while going through the files, but this last video was different. More raw, more... intimate.
He leaned his elbows on the desk, burying his face in his hands. “Why didn’t he tell me anything?” he murmured to himself, though he knew there was no answer. How many signs had he missed?
But there was no time to wallow in guilt. There was something deeply disturbing about all of this. And the worst part was that every file made it clear the Grandmaster had meticulously planned every one of these encounters.
Thor turned back to the monitor, forcing himself to watch the next file, even though every part of him begged him to stop.
“Is that what you want to know? If I’m still looking for someone to control me, to touch me as if they had the right to me?”
There was a charged silence before Loki leaned forward, setting the glass on a nearby table.
“What Odin did was mark me, not shape me. I don’t need control. What I need is for all those bastards to pay for what they did.”
Thor paused the video at that moment, his hands trembling with rage and sorrow. He felt a lump in his chest that made it almost impossible to breathe.
“Loki...” he murmured, closing his eyes as the images lingered in his mind. He wanted to find the Grandmaster and make him pay for every word and every action. But most of all, he wanted to hold Loki and assure him that he wasn’t alone, that he wouldn’t have to face this ever again.
Thor knew he had to stay calm, but his anger burned like an unquenchable fire. “This cannot go unpunished.”
With his heart heavy and his mind wrestling between fury and pain, Thor pressed “play” again. Loki, on the video, adjusted his position in the chair, his expression flickering between vulnerability and defiance. The Grandmaster’s voice, soft yet coaxing, urged him to continue.
“So, Loki, is there something else you remember? A particular moment, perhaps, where you felt he... tested the limits.”
“A particular moment. You want one? Fine. I must have been... twelve, maybe thirteen years old. I was no longer the scared child hiding in corners. But Odin didn’t stop. He just changed his methods.”
Loki’s face tightened, and the camera captured the way his jaw clenched.
“He told me I needed to learn to endure, to be strong, to prove I could be a worthy son. So he decided that punishments would become more... ‘educational.’”
Thor’s breathing grew heavier. Loki took a sip of wine, this time longer, as if trying to drown himself. “I had been practicing something, a speech I was assigned for school, but I decided to do it my way. I didn’t ask for his help or his opinion, and when he found out, he said I needed to ‘learn not to challenge authority.’”
He rubbed his hands nervously, the short nails scratching at his own skin.
“I remember we were at the house. In his study. He locked the door and told me to sit. I did, because I knew what would happen if I refused. He stood in front of me, arms crossed, looking at me like he already knew how it was all going to end.”
He paused, his chest rising and falling rapidly. In the video, Loki swallowed hard, clearly forcing himself to continue.
“He ordered me to get up and approach the desk. Said he wanted me to ‘understand my limits.’ He grabbed my arm and pushed me against the edge of the desk. His voice wasn’t loud, no... It was low, almost as if he enjoyed every word. He said he wouldn’t tolerate ‘this kind of disobedience’ again. He grabbed me by the neck, not hard, but just enough to remind me that he was bigger, stronger... that I couldn’t do anything.”
Loki’s voice cracked slightly, but he went on, avoiding looking up at the camera.
“Then he started with his ‘lessons.’ He touched my neck, my shoulders, even my face. All with that calmness that made it worse because he knew he was completely in control. And he didn’t stop there. His hands moved down, gripping my arms as if he wanted to leave marks, and he said that if I kept up this attitude, I would always need reminders like this.”
Loki pressed his lips together, his hands trembling in the video.
“The most humiliating part wasn’t just the words or the touch. It was how he made it last. He made sure every second was burned into my mind. And when it was finally over, he’d just say something like, ‘I hope this has helped you think about your decisions.’ And he’d let me go, as if nothing had happened.”
The recording ended with an uncomfortable silence. Loki looked up at the camera for the first time, his expression empty, as if expecting something impossible: understanding or perhaps a way to erase what he had just said.
Thor turned away from the monitor, feeling the air in his room grow heavier. He had endured many emotions while going through the files, but this last video was different. More raw, more... intimate.
He leaned his elbows on the table, burying his face in his hands. “Why didn’t he tell me anything?” he murmured to himself, though he knew there was no answer. How many signs had he ignored? Yet, there was no time to wallow in guilt. There was something deeply disturbing about all of this. And the worst part was that every file made it clear that the Grandmaster had planned each of these encounters with precision.
Thor turned back to the monitor, forcing himself to watch the next file, though every part of him begged to stop. The folder was endless, a collection of recordings labeled with dates and names that now took on a nauseating meaning. Finally, he selected one simply titled “Practical_Class.”
The video showed Loki seated in what seemed to be the Grandmaster’s study, dressed in tight-fitting clothes that were clearly not his own. He stood next to a large table, his fingers drumming nervously on the surface as the Grandmaster, off-camera, spoke in a tone almost affectionate.
“You know, I’ve always thought you had talent, Loki. But talent needs... guidance. Structure. That’s why we’re here.”
Loki didn’t respond at first, his eyes fixed on the table as if trying to ignore the man’s presence. Finally, he murmured:
“Couldn’t we do this another way?”
There was a pause, a silence that seemed to stretch on forever. Then, the camera trembled slightly as the Grandmaster approached. His hand appeared in the frame, placing a crystal glass in front of Loki.
“Another way? But this is the best way, Loki. You always resist at first, but then...” he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, “...you give me the best lessons.”
Thor felt something inside him shatter at those words. He watched as the Grandmaster continued to toy with his brother, every gesture seemingly designed to keep Loki trapped under his control.
Loki took the glass, but his hands visibly trembled. “I don’t want to.” His words were weak, almost inaudible, but they were there.
—Then I’ll learn to convince you.
The camera focuses on Loki’s face, capturing every nuance of emotion crossing his features: fear, resistance. The Grandmaster’s hand on his hip tightens slightly, while his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles on Loki’s back.
The silence in the room is deafening, broken only by the sound of their breathing.
“I want you to think about this, Loki,” the Grandmaster whispers, his voice like sweet poison slipping into Loki’s ears. “Not as something to fear, but as something you could... enjoy.”
Loki looks at him with a mix of disbelief and something close to resignation, his body still stiff, though his hands tremble slightly at his sides. The recording continues as the Grandmaster tilts his head, his lips barely brushing against Loki’s neck, leaving a mark that seems to burn as much as it soothes.
“Remember, darling,” he adds in an almost inaudible tone, “I’m not like him.”
The video cuts off abruptly, leaving the screen black and Thor frozen before the monitor, his face a mask of horror and confusion as his hands tremble on the keyboard. Thor couldn’t look away, his mind torn between the urge to turn off the recording and the need to understand everything that had happened. It was like a macabre puzzle, each piece pulling him closer to the truth.
When Loki finally drank, it was as if something inside him shut down. His posture relaxed, but not naturally. It seemed like resignation, the weight of someone who had learned that resisting only made things worse. The video ended shortly after, leaving Thor with a sense of helplessness he had never felt before. He closed the folder and turned off the screen, unable to continue.
The next recording begins with the sound of uneven breathing. The image is darker than usual, with dim lighting barely revealing the contours of Loki’s body. He is sitting on a sofa, his disheveled hair falling over his face, his eyes glassy from the influence of something that clearly leaves him disoriented.
The Grandmaster stands in front of him, leaning slightly, his serpentine smile unwavering. His fingers trail across Loki’s cheek, a gesture that could appear tender if not for the rigidity in Loki’s body.
“Relax, darling. Breathe,” the Grandmaster whispers, his voice dripping with an almost venomous sweetness.
Loki swallows hard, his breathing uneven as his eyes flutter rapidly, as if trying to focus on something that isn’t there. He shifts slightly in his seat, but his movements are clumsy, uncoordinated.
“I... I don’t want...” Loki murmurs, his voice barely a whisper.
The Grandmaster tilts his head, feigning concern as his fingers trace slow lines along Loki’s neck.
“What don’t you want, darling? I’m not hurting you. In fact... I’m taking care of you, much more than he ever did.”
Loki squeezes his eyes shut, his body visibly trembling.
“I’m not a child... I’m not him. I’m not...” His voice breaks, and his hands grip the sofa’s arms as if they’re the only things anchoring him to reality.
The Grandmaster leans closer, his lips brushing against Loki’s ear as he murmurs:
“You’re not a child, but... if I had been there, if I could have cared for you...”
Loki’s reaction is immediate. His body tenses like a spring, and a gasp escapes his lips, mingled with a sob he desperately tries to suppress.
“Don’t say that!” he suddenly shouts, pushing the Grandmaster with an unexpected force for his state. The camera captures how the man steps back slightly, though his expression doesn’t show surprise but a mix of twisted patience and perverse satisfaction.
“Loki...” he begins, in a tone mimicking the calm of a parent comforting a child. “You’re reliving things that have nothing to do with me. This isn’t that. I’m not him.”
“But you’re saying it as if you were!” Loki shouts, his voice breaking as tears stream down his cheeks. He’s hyperventilating, and his hands tremble so much that he can barely hold them steady on his lap.
The Grandmaster watches him in silence for a moment before approaching again, this time kneeling in front of him. He takes Loki’s hands in his own, his fingers gently stroking the younger man’s knuckles.
“I need you to calm down,” he says in a low, almost hypnotic voice. “Breathe with me, okay? One... two... three.”
Loki tries to match the rhythm, but his breathing remains erratic.
“I... I don’t want this. I don’t want this... again...” he whispers, his voice fading into a stifled sob.
The Grandmaster tilts his head, his eyes studying Loki with a mix of interest and hidden satisfaction.
“This isn’t ‘again,’ Loki. This is now. And now... you’re with me.”
The camera keeps recording as Loki closes his eyes, his body shaking with small spasms, clearly caught between reality and memory. The Grandmaster, not stepping away, maintains his firm grip, whispering words seemingly meant to both soothe and confuse.
The recording cuts off abruptly, leaving a dark void on the screen and a disturbing sense of incompleteness. Thor collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as memories of his childhood with Loki began to resurface. The childish fights, the shared jokes, the times they had promised to look out for each other... Everything felt so distant now.
“What am I going to do with you, brother?” he murmured.