Loki Laufeyson - Ghost Of A Life
Loki Laufeyson - Ghost Of A Life
The weight of guilt pressed down on me as I walked down the hallway alongside Thor, my brother's stoic form casting a protective shadow. The air hummed with tension, still thick with his lingering anger.
My feet moved mechanically, one foot after another while I barely heard the sound of our steps ringing off the wooden floors. My eyes were unfocused, but my mind raced with thoughts of Amelie and the life I'd convinced myself I was trying to build here on Earth. I clenched my fists, nails digging into the flesh of my palms, unwilling to let any sign of weakness show.
"Are you alright?" Thor asked, his voice reverberating in the narrow corridor.
"Of course." I replied curtly, forcing a smile to mask my inner turmoil. My arms hung at my sides as I couldn’t seem to muster the effort to clasp them in their usual position behind me.
We continued walking in silence, the small distance between us seeming to stretch like a chasm. As we reached the door to my room, Thor placed a hand on my shoulder, concern etching his features.
"Brother." He began, his voice gentle. "I know that this has been...difficult. Are you certain you are feeling okay?"
My façade wavered for a fleeting moment, my eyes betraying a hint of vulnerability. But I quickly composed myself, schooling my expression into one of cool detachment.
"Thank you, Thor." I murmured, brushing off my brother's touch. "Your support is appreciated, but I am fine. Truly."
The door clicked shut with a finality that echoed through my hollow chest. I leaned against the cool surface, my breath hitching as the emotions began to bubble to the surface like magma. My heart clenched painfully at the thought of never being worthy of a second chance.
"You fool." I whispered harshly, each syllable dripping with self-loathing. "You should have known better."
My legs abruptly gave way, and I slid down to the floor, my knees drawn up to my chest. My hands trembled as they clutched my hair, tearing slightly at the roots. The guilt I'd been suppressing for years now threatened to swallow me whole, like a ravenous beast lurking in the shadows of my soul. Around me, the room tremored as my magic reacted to my despair.
I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, but it only served to intensify the torrent of memories and regrets that flooded my mind.
There was no reprieve from the onslaught of my past mistakes. Images of Thor's shocked expression when I'd tried to usurp the Asgardian throne; the petrified faces of New York citizens as the Chitauri rained chaos upon them; Odin’s disappointed indifference; Tony's betrayed gaze… all these moments swirled around like vultures, relentless and merciless.
"Please." I choked out, my voice barely audible even to myself. "Please make it stop." My voice was raw and desperate, the sound of a man drowning in the consequences of his own actions. But there was no answer, only the oppressive silence of the room, a darkness that seemed to press in from all sides, smothering any semblance of hope.
A hot tear escaped the corner of my eye, scalding a path down my cheek. It was followed by another, and then another, until the dam holding back my anguish finally burst. Silent sobs wracked my body, shaking me to my very core as I mourned the man I had been – and feared I would always be.
"Is this my penance?" I questioned aloud, the words muffled by my clenched fists. "For all the pain I've caused? The lives I've destroyed?"
The answer, I knew, was a simple 'yes'.
My thoughts turned to Amelie, and to the realisation I'd made in Deer Valley. She had seen glimpses of the darkness within me, yet she'd chosen to stay by my side. Her care, her faith – they were like a beacon in the stormy seas of my heart, pulling me toward a future I dared not imagine. Even now, she'd chosen to vouch for me.
I couldn't help but think about the progress I’d made with the Avengers. It felt like a lifetime ago when Clint had first begun to acknowledge me, a tentative gesture that had ignited something inside me: a flicker of hope, the possibility of redemption. The archer's sarcastic wit had been a balm for my wounded soul, a reminder that even the most hardened warriors could learn to smile again.
Bucky, too, had come to accept me, despite our shared history of violence and outside manipulation. There was a natural comfort between us, two who understood the pain of being used by others for nefarious purposes. And though Bucky still struggled with the ghosts of his past, he had never let it blind him to the potential for change within me.
And then there was Tony Stark; Amelie's beloved uncle, the man who had taken me in and given me a chance when no one else would. His support at the conference had been nothing short of miraculous, a display of faith that had left me feeling both humbled and grateful.
But now, all of that was gone. Extinguished within a fleeting moment, like the dying embers of a once-blazing fire. The trust we had built together, shattered by my own foolishness.
The weight of guilt and remorse bore down on me, crushing me beneath its suffocating hold. I remained crumpled on the floor of my room, hands clutching at my chest as if to rip out the pain that threatened to consume me from within. Tears burned hot against my cheeks, but I made no attempt to wipe them away. They were a testament to my failures, a reminder of the lives I had destroyed.
I closed my eyes and allowed myself to surrender fully to the grief, my tears carving rivers down my cheeks as I purged himself of the need to hide my true feelings.