There was a loud shattering sound from behind me and before I could even turn around to see what it was, a sharp pain tore through my arm. I did nothing but scream, louder than I ever had before. A pain worse than when my father placed my hand on a hot iron. More than any pain I had ever gone through before. There were howls and barking quickly approaching me and all I could do was watch helplessly as my arm was taken by a one of them.
“Help mom! Aunt Alicia! Dad!” I cried as the rest of them came for me, one sunk their teeth into my leg, another my right arm the next to my back. I looked to Brunhildr, hoping she would help me. All she did was stare and frown.
“I told you child, I'm sorry.” she said solemnly, With the same face unchanging from a frown of disappointment. “I won't help you just as I swore. You will have to help yourself.” she kicked the stick I had found before. As I went to reach for it, Brunhildr turned and walked away. The coyote tore further into me, uncaring and filled with nothing but hunger with each bite. Before I could get to the stick to wack at least one of them, I passed out from everything. From the hunger, the hate, the cold, the isolation, left to die for something I never did. I fell unconscious, not knowing if I was dead or alive, not knowing where my Aunt was, or if they’ll ever find what's left of me.
In the darkness I saw a man, or the shape of one at least. A man with hair the color of fire, Eyes the same shade as emeralds. Rope attached to either arm and strung tight. His scream louder than the darkness around us, I for some reason felt his pain. His anger, his hatred. All palpable to any who could see it for themselves. A snake's fangs hovered over his face Dripping poison so potent it burned the stone it fell to under him. A woman holding a bowl trying to catch each drop but failing. This man steadied himself and looked right to me. No, more accurately past me.
“So, it's you huh?” an unseen person off deeper in the darkness was who he had addressed. With not hatred nor pain in his voice but amusement and possibly a hint of joy.
“Three hundred years of this, all for a little prank? Seems a bit much doesn't it?” The footsteps continued from the unseen person. Then a sudden shake as they touched my shoulder to pass me. How did this “person’” know I was there witnessing all of it?
“Three Hundred isn't enough if you ask me.” The shape spoke to the chained man, coldly uncaring and yet also amused by his plight.
“HA, did you come to taunt me or sell me something?” the chained man asked and with a chuckle the shape responded.
“Both if that's ok.” now the shape had moved close enough in the darkness to be right in front of the man. The prisoner looked like he had finally heard something he liked.
“So what is it? Don't keep me in suspense. I'm a busy man after all.” he said, gesturing to the poison. Clearly pretending it didn't hurt but his body refused to follow the lie his words made.
“How would you like to get out of here, there are strings attached of course.”
“What strings?” His eyes shone brightly even in the dark mildewy cave. The dripping of poison is the only thing breaking the long silence. I was just standing there cold, still alone, unable to traverse the darkness or see the figure’s shadowed face, unable to understand the scene that was unfolding in front of me.
“Oh it's simple, you see I have found a way to escape the prying eyes of Heimdall,and the All Father himself.” The prisoner stood abruptly, basically foaming at the mouth with excitement.
“What is it? What have you done? I'm getting a little excited down south if you know what I mean.”
The figure laughed. “Gross, but anyway I'm going to die. I only want you to find me and help me remember who I am in my next life, my foolish little prankster.”
“Deal!” he said, almost falling face first to the floor below. The figure lifted his hands and a spear appeared. He let out a little chuckle and ran the prisoner through his chest.
“I'll see you in a few hundred years. Be sure to take good care of me, my friend.”
The prisoner just laughed maniacally echoing through the darkness causing me to shiver not from the cold but from the heat of his laughter? Somehow his laugh carried fire and warmth through it as if he himself were made of it. Then the figure finally turned to me in the dark, the prisoner still laughing. The poison is still dripping from the woman still trying to catch it. I was worried I'd be run through next. The figure who turned to me was nothing overly remarkable from another man. We had the same jet black hair. Though I could tell he was MUCH older than me. His eyes are a shade of gold and a helm the shape of a poor farmer from the middle ages, like in my fairy tale books. Even though his spear was still out, he never raised his hands at me. No. He just winked andi jolted awake.
Confused as to how I was still alive. and where i was? A bright fluorescent light loomed above me. Buzzing, and flickering filled the air. The sun outside was shining like it was noon. Where was i? What about the coyotes? where was Brunhildr. I had so, so many questions and no answers but the number one thing that kept going around in my head was that forsaken laughter. One of a maniac and of freedom, I could feel my arms, confused. There were no bite marks, not even blood on my clothes. I stood up and called out to no answer. This wasn't a hospital, nor was it Jack's home or my aunt’s. Looking around I noticed the room was bare, set up with nothing but a bed and a singler dresser. A fan going in the far right of the room.I walked out of the room, wincing at the groaning of the rotten wood floors. In the hallway, a rich, dark oak lined a few paintings of animals and flowers.
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I ventured outside to see if I was anywhere I would know. No, just a log cabin in the middle of a forest clearing. I started to panic, thinking I had been kidnapped again. If I had to live through that all over again, or worse this time, I didn't know if I could handle it. Then I heard a voice come from the tree line on the outer left side of the cabin. A voice that sounded all too familiar.
“Took you long enough, kid.” I wasted no time this time around; I picked up a big rock and was ready to go to the voice. As I rounded the corner to him where the voice was coming from, I saw his peppered hair hadn't changed, his smile the same as that night. But something was off. What was Jack doing out here? Where was he before? After the day I had, I took no chances. I raised the rock and threw it with what strength I had. Jack just laughed. I realized this was the first time I had heard him laugh, and it sounded exactly the same as the manic laughter that filled the darkness.
“No, no, no, no. No way.” Jack's smile remained the same, but his eyes now glowed that unmistakable shade of emerald. His hair ignited, transforming from the familiar peppered gray into a vibrant, fiery red. He hovered a few inches above the ground, the earth beneath him scorching. His expression was one of pure excitement and madness.
Panic surged through me. I turned and sprinted towards the tree line, but Jack—no, some else—caught me mid-stride, lifting me effortlessly. He sighed, the sound dripping with condescension. “It's cute you thought you could run.”
“So I’m just guessing here, but did you perhaps meet a certain Valkyrie?” Loki asked, amused. “One that was a ‘stab first, ask later’ kinda woman?”
How did he know about Brunhildr!? Had he been watching me the entire time? Where was my mom? What about Alicia?
“How do you know about that? Where is she? Where is my mom?!” I yelled, still suspended in the air. His right hand held me effortlessly while his other hand poked my belly, as if this were all a game.
Not-jack groaned and finally set me down. “Look, kid, I don't know where Brunie went off to,” he said plainly. “Secondly, I'm simply holding up my end here. I erased your human mother’s memories of you, along with everyone else who might have known you.” He poked my chest hard enough to hurt. “And before you even think about asking me, yes, the baby was my idea. I needed to get you away from the houses while I did my work.”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. “Where is the baby? Where am I? Who are you?!”
The formerly known as Jack, looked a bit frustrated, mocking me. “‘Why, why, why? Wah wah wah. So much crying—you used to be fun and at least respectable.” He sighed, as if bored with my questions.
I clenched my fists, rage and helplessness swirling within me. “Answer me!”
“Alright, kid, lastly, I am Loki, the God you freed in a past life. Kinda sad you forgot our special moment.” He spoke quickly, with a matter-of-fact attitude, already walking back to where he had been.
I scrambled to follow him. “Ok, you’re Loki, and that was a Valkyrie who made me swear on Tyr?”
He sat down on the burnt grass, where he had revealed his true self. “And to make sure you kept up the ‘deal’ I don’t remember making, you erased me from my family's mind?”
Loki picked at the grass, seemingly indifferent. “Yesss!” he said with an exasperated tone. “You have no one and nowhere to go. That’s the point. You can do anything you want, and that’s our freedom. No Heimdall, no Odin. No one.” He looked at me, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “But since you don’t remember who you are and I don’t have to be ‘Jack’ anymore...” He shuddered at the thought. “I’m going to raise you for the next ten years. You are still a child, after all.”
“Ok, but where are we? This place doesn't look familiar at all.” I gave in, knowing he was right—there weren’t many options. At least my aunt and mom were safe, I guessed.
Loki's eyes sparkled with amusement. “Oh yeah, now THIS is funny. We are two Gods…IN THE BIBLE BELT,. We, my boy, are in Oklahoma—your mortal father's home state!”
There I was with a god I had never heard of. One I freed in a past life that I don't remember, who is now my ‘adoptive father’. The initial days were filled with a mix of terror and confusion. Loki's antics were relentless. One morning, I found mouse traps in the toilet, his laughter echoing through the cabin as I yelped in pain. During hunting lessons, he'd morph into a bear, chasing me through the woods. He thought he was sooooooo fuckin' funny. Dick.
But as weeks turned into months, and months to years, I started adapting. Loki's pranks, though annoying, became predictable. His bizarre lessons, while unconventional, taught me survival skills I never thought I’d need. I found a strange sense of stability in the chaos. The realization that my past was erased slowly sank in, replaced by a new, albeit twisted, normalcy.
By the time I was fifteen, Loki had taught me a bit of magic, like setting my fingertips on fire without burning myself. We would spar daily, which hurt.
The pain from our training sessions was real, but so was the power I felt growing within me. Despite the chaos and confusion, there was a strange comfort in the predictability of Loki's Unpredictability as a constant companion. Each day brought new challenges and lessons, slowly shaping me into something beyond my wildest dreams.
On my 20th birthday, during dinner—venison with tomato and chili—Loki decided it had taken too long for me to remember my past self. He suggested a more direct approach.
“You want to do WHAT!?” I exclaimed. Loki laughed, pure joy in his eyes.
“Kid, I just want to go inside your noggin and poke around for you and him,” he said, implying we were two separate entities.
“Why would I let you do that? I know you,” I said, eyeing him warily. Loki acted as if my suspicion wounded him, his dramatic flair in full swing.
“Don't worry, I swear on my name and the worth of my word not to turn you into a zombie. Quite frankly, I’m offended by the lack of imagination. Didn’t I raise you better?!”
He did not. But the idea of recovering my memories was tempting. I wanted to know why I had been running from Odin and why I constantly dreamed of a girl, one with eyes as green as grass, freckles spotted on her face. Her hair is fiery like Loki’s. With a voice off in the distance each time I see her,”Ashley.”
“Ugh, fine, old man. Just once, and for five minutes. Sounds good?” Loki’s smile widened, making me instantly regret my decision.
“Don't worry, five minutes is plenty of ti—” Our conversation was abruptly cut short by a loud BOOM from outside the front door. We exchanged glances. Loki transformed, fire and all, while I dashed to grab my spear from the closet, tripping over his discarded clothes. How could a god be so messy?
Once we were both outside, we saw her through the smoke—the same golden armor with an all-too-memorable silvery outline. She was back, but now I was much more than the little kid she had left for dead.