Be Wary of Strangers, Part 13

Guess what?! I finally wrote a thing. It’s been done for almost a month. But let’s say I waited until Fall weather made an appearance, and just ignore my terrible life-juggling skills, ‘kay? (Crud I just now realized I still have my winter theme from last year.)

I am also working on designing and monetizing a website for fairy tale retelling, so keep an eye out for that. (See? More specific than “I’m working on another blog”, so I’m making progress. :P) And writing for a Deadzone group, I might be doing that soon. Totally unrelated to the aforementioned website, but my brain is melting and I feel the need to jam everything I’m doing/going to be doing in one section.

Hurry, read the thing before I start rambling about my knitting projects!

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Part Thirteen

A day and a half later, Loki is well enough to attempt cleaning the house. Painstakingly, he goes through the rooms, one by one. He doesn’t leave, to try and find the woman or his brother. One reason was that, despite his rapid healing, and even with the aid of a few spells, he was still weak. He shudders to think of what would have happened had Thor not still retained a modicum of control. The other was that the woman had left her jacket. It had an inter dimensional pocket, and should she survive her encounter, she would likely return for it.

Stopping to rest every few hours, he manages to clean the house. Out of habit, he heads down into the basement. With a torch in hand [check previous parts, can’t recall if they use electricity or fire], he navigates the maze. At first, he goes along with his head lowered, eyes half closed.

As he nears the room, his head jerks up.

Is that...breathing?

He whispers a spell to enhance his hearing, lowers to a half-crouch, and readies a dagger. Both Thor and the woman Delilah are in the room; Delilah lay sprawled on the bed face-down, Thor is on the floor at the foot of the bed in a heap.

Loki scowls at the woman. While Thor undoubtedly gave her trouble, there was no need for her to toss him aside like that. He holds his fingers together and aims a spell at the air above the woman’s head.

An explosion sounds, and a few lights flicker about the room. Thor makes no move, though Delilah stirs.

She blearily looks around, then stalks over to Loki’s side, ignoring the illusion that he placed in the doorway.

In an instant, she’s at his side, hissing into his ear: “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“You’ll have to be specific.”

Delilah’s fingers close around his throat. “That you’re from another @!#*& world.”

“Does that change anything?”

“Everything.” She winces and lowers herself to the floor—without relinquishing her hold on Loki’s neck. He awkwardly lowers himself to sit beside her. “Oh.” She releases her hold and runs her hands through her hair. “The rules of your world, the rules of this world—they’re fighting. I can neither cleanse nor kill your brother. Your magic won’t work much longer if you stay. I could help—provided you choose to remain here. Permanently. If you relinquish whatever—”

“Done.”

Delilah raises her brows.

A rueful smile tugs at his mouth. “Our family is dead, our home destroyed, and the universe is on track to be obliterated.”

“And you tried to drag that bedlam here.” She shakes her head. “I don’t like you.”

“Get in line.”

With a sigh, she leans back. “I need to rest. Maybe eat.”

“What blood do you require?” Loki stands and rubs his neck briefly.

She eyes him with disgust. “None. Do you have coconut water?”

“I could acquire some.” Before he leaves, he asks, “What artifacts are needed for the ritual?”

“What ritual?”

“Do you not need to perform a ritual to sever ties from my previous home?”

Delilah snorts. “I’m a vampire, not a Fae.” She yawns and uses the unconscious Thor as a pillow. Before he can object, Delilah raises a hand and points towards the ceiling. “My friend is upstairs. Go check on her.”

Be Wary of Strangers, Part 12

It has been brought to my attention that the “/” in the title “Loki/Thor…” typically means a ship. I was unaware of this when I first started writing, so I apologize to any who may have been confused by this. I’m not a Thorki shipper, and this fanfic has none of that. I had been using the “/” to indicate that I’d be doing parts from both Loki’s and Thor’s POV.

On the plus side, I learned this shortly after I decided I wanted to make a banner for this mini-series. So I’ll be working on going back and changing the title/adding the banner/whatnot, and fixing any POV mistakes (I’ve noticed myself slipping into past tense a few times). The new title for this series is “Be Wary of Strangers.”

Also, the font I used for previous posts is not available on the version of Scrivener I’m using, so that’s going to change as well. :P

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Part Twelve

Sharp, icy air drives the breath from his lungs, clings to him like a blanket. Thor struggles into a sitting position. He’s on a mountain range, surrounded by rocks and blocky trees laden in frost. Not snow; frost. Stars glint faintly overhead, covered in a thin haze. He sees no moon.

He laughs. “Did you trap us on Jotunheim, brother?”

A sharp wind, whisking away his laughter, is the only answer.

“Where am I?” He mutters to a pile of rocks vaguely reminiscent of a biped, trying to recall. “I remember doing this before. Waking, finding it hard to remember. Loki. He’s normally here. But where…is here? Not Asgard. Not after Hela…” Memories begin flitting back into his mind, as difficult to grasp as an adolescent bilgesnipe. “Oh. Odin’s beard, I died.”

He stares numbly into the sky.  “Father? Heim…Heimdal? Can you hear me?”

“Who’s Heimdal?”

Thor bolts to his feet. Someone stands behind him. Someone female. “I’m sorry, but I don’t quite recall…”

And then he did. Loki’s hirelings. The deaths. Feeding.

His eye widens. Before he can thunder out an apology—he hated not being in control of himself—the girl laughs. “Don’t apologize; it might get annoying if you keep doing it.”

Despite wearing nothing except Midgardian pajamas, she doesn’t seem cold. She skips through the snow to his side and hugs his arm. “I don’t want to get annoyed with you.”

She giggles oddly. Thor chuckles nervously. “Yes. Well.”

He’d been fighting someone. The realization came as suddenly as his memories. He glances down at his torn shirt, at the dried blood on his hands. But that’s old; crusting off, and not indicative of the fight he felt aching in his bones. “Would you happen to know who I fought?”

“Your brother.” She frowns. “You said you saved me.”

“Ah.” As he struggles to recall, Thor’s eye flicks every which way. Then he finds it. As surely as if the thing were standing in front of him, he finds it.

“Get inside. Please,” he says to the girl. She obeys without a word, heading inside the cave hidden among the rocks.

Thors fists clench. He begins striding down the mountain. To the empty air he shouts, “I know you’re there!”

The darkness in his mind coalesces. His senses sharpen to an unbearable degree.

From behind, a wry-sounding female voice says, “I can help, you know.”

Thor whirls on the newcomer. An outrageously tall woman, with dark green eyes and the bearing of a Valkyrie stands before him. He shakes his head. “I could swear that isn’t how you looked during our last encounter.”

She shrugs. “Accept my help, and things will go smoother.” She takes one step, another. The snow makes no sound beneath her feet. Her feet make no imprint upon it.

Thor backs away. “No! You drive me to madness—”

“As does your brother.”

“—and force me to do that which I have no wish to do!”

The woman tilts her head back, lips parted in a dry laugh. “Ah, you flatter me. But I have no power which you do not grant.”

“Then begone, foul creature of darkness!”

“But if you let me help, you’ll have time to mourn.” Her tone turns placating. “Don’t you want that?”

Wary, Thor’s eye narrows. “Mourn?”

“Yes. Everything. The loss of your home. Your friends.”

Pain tears through Thor’s skull. He screams, falls to his knees.

My people…

Thor grits his teeth. The view of trees and rock blur before him. His vision tunnels until all he can see is a village. A village of giants, and beings made of fire.
Murderers. Demons.

Without realizing it, his voice and the voice of the woman speak in harmony. “And what better way to mourn than to destroy races responsible for death and destruction?”

With a yowl, Thor leaps. Lightning crackles through him. Like a demon himself, he flies through the air, heading towards the village.

Be Wary of Strangers, Part 11

Vampire: Loki/Thor x Reader
Part Eleven

Unbeknownst to you, a day and a half passes. Suddenly cold, you wake. You stare at the wall for a few seconds, not sure what you’re seeing. The wall isn’t that of the basement, or any other room in the house. It’s far more…natural. Stone, with small bits of dried moss clinging to it.
Still trying to pull yourself from the dizzying comfort of the dream you’d been having, you rub your eyes fiercely.
“Oh, good, you’re awake.”
You turn to the left, towards where the blast of cold had come from. Thor stands in the entryway, smiling. Snow flecks his shoulders and hair, and he’s carrying a rucksack. His shirt appears to have been torn in several places—by a dagger, or claws, you guess. A well-fed black wolf pokes its head into the room. Thor glances down and pats its head.
The wolf enters, curling up beside you, as tame as a dog.
You swallow hard, willing the butterflies in your stomach to calm. “Hi?”
“You must be hungry.” Thor sits next to you—you realize you’re on a low mattress, still in your pajamas, and clutching a wool blanket—and begins taking food out of the sack. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I took pizza, fried rice, and a sandwich.”
Uncomprehending, you just stare at him. This doesn’t help your nervousness, but you don’t mind. “W-what?”
“I saved you.” Thor grins and sidles closer. His arm goes around your shoulders.
For a moment, you consider shoving him away. That thought leaves your mind almost as soon as it enters. You lean against him, looking down at the food. “From what?”
“My brother.”
“Loki?”
Thor smirks. “Do I have another brother I don’t know about?”
For the life of you, you just can’t recall anything after going to bed. “What time is it?”
“Near midnight.” Thor leans his head against yours. “He tried to kill you, you know.”
“He did what?” For some reason, you’re not surprised. Just…curious.
“I called you to me, do you remember?”
You frown. You recall having a dream about walking through the house, and…
You blush and wrap your arms around your knees. “You fed from me?” That explains your lack of unease around the obviously predatory vampire, you suppose. There was a bit of lore—
“Yes.”
Thor’s voice derails your train of thought. Half-smiling, you wrap an arm around him. “Oh.” Forgetting the previous topic, you giggle as he nuzzles your ear. “I suppose that means I’m stuck with you.”
“Of course.” He runs his hand down your back. “So…are you hungry?”
“Are you?” You lay your head across his lap.
Thor laughs and fingers your neck, his dark eye glinting. “Not yet.” He leans down for a kiss.
You gladly reciprocate.

***

Loki comes to with a moan. His eyes are shut—whether swollen or bandaged, he can’t tell—and he feels like he’s sitting in a furnace.
“Hold still, you’re pretty tore up.”
Seeing no other recourse, he complies. When the pain passes enough for him to focus a bit, he asks, “Who are you?”
“A friend.” The female speaker scoffs. “At the moment, anyways. If you can explain a few things to me, things’ll stay that way.”
She presses something icy cold against his skin. It feels better than the heat, but the resulting pain makes him lurch up and shout. The shout is partly from pain, and partly from the instinctual fear of revealing his Jotun side.
“Oh hush.” Surprisingly large, firm hands shove him down. “You’re getting blood all over your living room.”
Loki strains his ears, trying to tell where he is. He hears the crackle of fire, the rustling movements of cloth and suture, and his own labored breathing. “What happened?”
“I was hoping you could tell me, mister grave digger.”
His thoughts flash back to a few days before, when he had disposed of the bodies of the hunters that Thor killed. I knew I should have burned them.
Warily, he asked, “What do you know?”
“Only that the sister of my best friend came to your house, hasn’t been seen since, and that said house looks like a heavily armed berserker went through it.” Her tone was flat, with only a hint of accusation. “Oh, and you had dealings with a vampire. That much is obvious from all the silver and herbs you have spread around your place.”
“Are you a hunter, as well?”
“Ha! No, no, no.”
Something cold pressed against his eyes. The speaker holds it there. Loki feels her face come close to his ear.
“So.” Her voice holds a slight hiss. “Where is —?” She names the girl that Loki hired.
“Gone. My brother took her.” He recalled the fight--fast, fierce, and bloody--surprised that the house was still standing.
“Oh, no. Tell me you didn’t turn someone.”
“Fine. I didn’t turn someone.”
“Of all the idiotic…” The pressure holding the ice pack moves away, and the sound of pacing—plus the shifting of glass and carpet—echoes in the room. “Endymion. He turned your brother?”
I see no point in hiding this information at this point… 
“Yes.”
She gives an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorely tempted to undo all of my stitching and let you bleed out. I won’t. Just know that I would love to.”
Loki sighs. “What folly have I committed this time?” He feels well enough to sit up. Holding the pack against his eyes, he does so.
“Do you know where they went?” she asks, ignoring his question.
Ignoring her question, he asks, “May I ask who I’m addressing?”
The cold pack is snatched away, and fingers press none too gently against his swollen lids. The familiar feel of healing magic seeps through his face, and he finds that he can open his eyes. Blinking, he can’t help but stare at the woman standing in his partly demolished living room.
She is toned, on the verge of being buff, and tall. Very tall. If he stood, he didn’t doubt that he would be forced to look up to meet her eyes. Her skin is pale, though perhaps that is the darkness and shadows of the fire, for the rest of her is dark as night; her eyes, lips, hair. She wears a simple, sturdy pair of jeans, and a fitted maroon colored v-neck. By the moonlight coming in through the broken doors, Loki spies a black jacket with an unfamiliar symbol hanging on the coat rack.
She crosses her arms. This accentuates the fullness of her breasts. “Are you through ogling me?” she snaps, shifting her stance to lean against a table.
Loki glances down. “My apologies. You are a vampire, as well?” He glances at the thick, decorative silver, cross-designed edging on the table. Her fingers press against it, and she is seemingly unaffected.
“Mmm-hmm. Name’s Delilah.” She taps the table rhythmically.
Loki clears his throat. “Would you mind telling me about Endymion?”
“Yes, I would mind very much. Even though he’s the sort that should meet a painful end, I’m not sure how much I can tell you without jeopardizing myself, and others like me.”
“Then how can you help?”
“By finding your brother.”
“What do you plan to do when you find him?”
Delilah’s firm expression softens into a half-frown. “I’m gong to have to, you know, end him. If he’s been turned by Endymion, he needs to be killed before he passes the fledgling stage.”
“Even if he still shows signs of his…humanity?” Loki resists the urge to chuckle at the last word.
“Hmm.” Delilah taps her chin. “That might be possible…” She glances over her shoulder. “I’ll do what I can. The only thing I need to borrow is a silver mirror. Do you have one pocket-sized?”
“I’m afraid not. The smallest one I have is about the size of a dinner plate.”
“That’ll work.” She grips his shoulder. “Do I have your word that you’ll stay here, and won’t interfere?”
Loki looks up at her, fully intending to lie. “Of cou—”
Her eyes—a shade of jade very close to black, he realizes—fill his vision. A hazy relaxation creeps over him. He blinks, then closes his eyes, trying to break eye contact. That is a mistake; the haze engulfs him, and he can still see her eyes. Just her eyes. His head lolls.
“Sorry.” She nudges his shoulder. Without a sound, he flops back onto the couch. “You’ll thank me later.”
Her voice fades as Loki loses consciousness.

Be Wary of Strangers, Part 10

Vampire: Loki/Thor x ReaderPart Ten

Several days and nights pass, and Loki refuses to let you back in the basement.
“What’s the point of me being here, then?!” You never thought you’d be mad about not being able to confront a vampire, but for whatever reason, you are.
Loki just narrows his eyes. He has a bag of several sacks of blood in hand. “You’re not going back down until I’m certain he can be trusted.” With that, he heads back to the basement.
You huff, then go back to researching vampires. The name Loki mentioned—Endymion—continues to niggle at your mind. You’ve come close to finding out more about him as the days go on. The books you reference grow older and older, until they’re scrolls written in arcane script. With a sigh, you leave them out with a note asking for Loki to translate them for you. As you write the note, you feel a bit…useless. Not just in research, but life in general.
You can clean a bit, maybe research. But now you’re research is stalled, and you can’t even deliver the packs of blood to the vampire.
You turn in early, hoping that Loki won’t decide that you aren’t any use.

***

After a horrendously long night—day?—with Thor, Loki was ready for bed. He just couldn’t figure out why Thor kept slipping. Mentions of the past made Thor hurt, and flip him into animal mode. He was a bit dark and demonic a few minutes after feasting, but after that was fine. Feeding off fresh blood, contrary to Endymion’s advice, seemed to make him stay in that demonic state longer than feeding off of refrigerated blood.
And as his abilities continued to grow; new enchantments were required to keep Thor in the basement.
He tromps upstairs, ignoring the sunrise that is just beginning to enter through the windows, and flops onto his bed fully dressed. He would just sleep a few hours and then…then…
Heavy footsteps echoing in the stairwell wake him. “Why?” he moans. For a few moments, he stays where he is, listening. The footsteps continue to head down. Then, the door that leads to the basement entrance creaks open.
“@*#*# you, Thor,” he mutters. Doubtless it’s some new vampiric ability manifesting. And the girl is his target.
Loki rolls over and looks at the clock on his bedside table. It’s only a few hours past noon. If Thor’s abilities are this strong…
He hurries down to the basement, berating himself for never having had a proper talk with the girl about Thor’s new abilities. The maze greets him with its customary coldness. As he navigates through the dark, he hears voices.
One is obviously the girl’s, and it sounds as if she’s praying.
Thor’s strangely dark chuckle winds through the maze. “Who would have thought that prayers would make you smell more sweet?”
Loki hurries down the passages, readying his daggers. When he reaches Thor’s room, he stops short. The girl is sitting, limp, on Thor’s lap—still in her pajamas, thank heaven—and Thor himself is slowly sucking at her neck.
“Brother!” he shouts.
Thor disengages and licks his lips. His hold on the girl tightens and his eye flashes an angry red. “Leave me be.”
“What do you want with her?” Seeing the beginnings of a sly grin on Thor’s face—something was definitely wrong, that expression had no business being on his thick-headed brother’s face—Loki holds up a hand. “Never mind, don’t answer. Let her go.”
Thor doesn’t, of course. He nuzzles the girl’s neck. She sighs and curls in closer to him.
“What time is it?” Thor asks with that same horrid expression.
He knows. Or does he merely suspect?
Loki’s grip on his dagger tightens. “Midnight,” he lies.
Thor frowns in confusion. A bit of the normal blue begins to show through the dark and the red. “Really? I thought it was earlier.”
“Let her go, you’re hurting her.”
That seems to do the trick. The dark blue fades entirely, and Thor blinks rapidly. “What…why…” He glances down at the girl, who has a ridiculous smile pasted across her face. “I’m not normally this uncomfortable when—”
“Yes, yes,” Loki snaps, not wanting to hear a bawdy joke. “You must have used your vampiric call and she came running.”
Thor shrugs. “I remember being a bit…hungry, but I thought I was dreaming.” He stands and holds the girl out to Loki. “She’s not waking up. That doesn’t seem like a good thing.”
“I will bring her upstairs.” Loki takes the girl from Thor. Before he can take two steps, she’s whimpering. Another step, and she’s calling for Thor in a panic. A step more, and she’s shrieking and clawing at Loki’s face.
Loki practically tosses her back to Thor. She quiets as soon as she’s in his arms. “Odin’s beard, what did you do to her?!” He dabs at a few deep scratches on his cheek.
“I told you, I don’t know!” Thor glances at the girl’s neck, licking his lips. “Though perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I’ve fed from her?”
Loki glances back to where the entrance to the house is. He recalls some information he came across in the library, but isn’t entirely certain he recalls correctly. Seeing as he normally has a perfect memory, this unsettles him.
He jerks his thumb to the passage. “Come with me. Walk ahead, I still do not trust you where I cannot see you.”
It’s a bit of a challenge, trying to get Thor upstairs without walking through the sunlight filtering in through the windows, but somehow they manage.
Loki draws the curtains in the library and turns on a few of the lamps before ushering them inside.
Thor takes a seat on one of the couches while Loki sifts through the papers and books on his desk. He comes across a note that he hadn’t seen before, asking for him to translate a scroll. He sets it aside. No time for that now.
“Loki,” Thor whispers.
 He doesn’t look up, still intent on finding the document. “What?”
“What should I do?”
Loki glances up. The girl, eyes half-closed, is fondling Thor’s face. She whispers something Loki can’t hear, and pulls his head down to her neck. Thor hurriedly moves a hand up to stroke her face.
Exasperated, Loki turns back to his search. “I’m hurrying.”
A few seconds more, and, “She’s getting more demanding.”
“I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying.” Determined not to look up, Loki turns to the shelves behind him. There!
“I found—Thor.”
His brother lifts his head, fresh blood on his mouth. “I’m sorry, she won’t stop until I do!”
“I meant…” Grinding his teeth, Loki tosses a blanket over to him. “…put her shirt back on.”
“Oh.”
Hopefully they would figure this out. And soon.

Be Wary of Strangers, Part 9

Vampire: Loki/Thor x Reader
Part Nine

You wake when a heavy pounding echoes through the house. Moaning, you sit up, rubbing your eyes and feeling around for your slippers. When you can’t find them, you yawn and force your eyes open.
The first thing you notice: It’s daytime. The second thing: This isn’t your room.
Mouth agape, you bolt out shouting, “Loki!”
You find him downstairs in the foyer. You’re ready to rail at him, but the sight of two people dressed for war standing in the doorway stops you in your tracks.
Loki glances over his shoulder at you, brows raised. “Good morning.”
One of the people—a man with light leather armor, a crossbow, and stakes strapped to his arms and legs—eyes you. You shuffle uncomfortably, conscious of the cutesy design on your pajamas. You wonder if he can see the outline of the knife holder strapped to your arm.
The man addresses Loki. “Who is this? You said you were alone.”
“I’m a habitual liar,” Loki says easily. “It gets worse when unexpected guests decide to threaten me in my own home.”
The other—a woman with bandoleers strapped across her chest, two pistols, pouches, and a heavy silver cross necklace—huffs. “I take it you lied about the door being ravaged by vandals, then.”
“Of course.”
A wild plan begins to form in your mind. “Wolves!” you blurt. “It was wolves.”
Loki’s expression momentarily turns murderous. You do your best to make an unobtrusive “trust me I have a plan” face. As you don’t have much practice making that kind of face, you’re uncertain if you succeeded.
“There were so many wolves,” you continue, sounding panicked. “They were howling and scratching for days. Nights? And I swear I saw someone out there with them.”
The hunters’ eyes light in anticipation. The man’s gaze slides to Loki. “You said there were only wolves.”
Loki doesn’t look at you. He sighs. “The vampire is in the basement. I caught him last night. I hadn’t realized that my servant here had seen him; I had been hoping to avoid exciting her. It’s hard enough to keep help around here as it is.”
The hunters’ surprise is obvious. They glance at each other. The woman draws a pistol. “Would you mind taking us to him? The sooner we take care of this, the better.”
“I would rather you not,” Loki says slowly. “You see, he is—used to be—my brother. Is there any cure short of a second death?”
The hunters look sympathetic. “I’m afraid not,” the man said. “Not if he’s already died and returned.”
“I was afraid of that.” Loki heads towards the kitchen. “Follow me. We’ll have to use the outside entrance; I barricaded the house entry.”
“Smart.” The man nods. He follows, drawing his crossbow and giving you a wink. “Don’t worry, we’ll have this taken care of quicker than two shakes of a rabbit’s tail.” He grins at his companion. “Come on, Traci!”
Wondering what Loki is thinking, you follow, and hope this won’t end terribly. As you join him in leaving through the back door, Loki subtly presses a key into your hand. “Free him, but do not let him out of the basement.”
You glance behind you. The hunters aren’t that far off. “What about them?”
“They’ll think you’re me.”
“Huh?”

You enter the basement through the outside door, wondering if Loki’s plan would work. And why you want it to work. It would end in the deaths of the hunters. You’re not normally one for bloodlust, but can’t help a slight grin at the thought of not having to deal with them any more.
“This basement seems to have been prepared,” the man says, his eyes wary. “You said you caught him just last night?”
“Er, yes,” you say, discomfited at having to play the part of Loki. He didn’t get a chance to explain, but from what you can tell, you’re covered in an illusion of some sort, and somehow have Loki’s voice. Loki himself—disguised as you—is waiting outside. “I’m not certain who owned this mansion before,” you say. Hopefully Loki hadn’t bragged about building this place from the ground up. “There were quite a few other features that needed taking care of. I thought I’d leave this for last.”
“Hmm.”
You know you’re nearing Thor’s bedroom. You hold out the hand that’s not holding a flashlight and gesture for the hunters to wait. To your surprise, they don’t ask for a reason. They simply nod, crouch, and ready their weapons.
You turn a few corners and see Thor upon his bed. He’s curled up in his red bedsheets, asleep. You glance behind you to make sure the hunters haven’t followed. 
Hurrying up to Thor’s bed, you shake his shoulder and hiss his name. Even though he doesn’t respond, you open his shackles.
The click sounds unnaturally loud.
Bullets whiz past you, and an arrow embeds itself in the wall slightly above your head.
The hunters burst in, yowling and firing their weapons. “Thought you could betray us?!”
You scramble back, flailing, and fall behind the bed. “Thor!” you scream. From your vantage point, you see him rise in a low crouch. He leaps from the bed, growling sleepily.
The hunters’ shouts of victory change. You peek out from behind the bed. Though he seems like he’s still half-asleep, Thor is handling himself well.
He catches a crossbow in mid-air, snapping it in his fist. The bullets don’t seem to do much more than annoy him. He charges at the man, knocking him to the ground. A horrid CRUNCH echoes in the room.
“Rudy!” The woman flings some of the pouches. They puff on the ground around Thor.
Holding a hand over his mouth, Thor charges through the smelly mist. Sparks travel along his body. When he tackles her, he’s out of your sight.
You can still hear the fight, though: screaming, dark laughter, cracklings, a snap, wet slurps. The entire room smells like vampire repellent and burnt flesh. An odd shimmer surrounds you. Was it Loki’s spell fading?
Thor staggers back into the room. Blood dirties his mouth, trimmed beard, and no-longer-blue shirt front. His head lolls loosely. His uncovered eye is dark. He approaches and lays across the bed. Resting his chin on his arm, he smiles.
Heat rushes to your face.
“You feed me well.” You find yourself unable to move as he briefly caresses your cheek. “Thank you.” His fingers trace down the side of your face and rest on the flutter of your quickening pulse. He scoots closer, his mouth inches from your neck. Sounding sleepy, he asks, “You don’t mind…do you?”
“Uh—!”
“THOR!”
He jerks up. Sparks dance in his eyes. You teeter back and brace yourself against the wall, breathing fast.
Loki stands in the entry. “You still have a full body. Take that, leave the girl.”
“I’m unchained now. Did you plan that?” His voice is a low, smooth hiss.
“Remember yourself, brother.”
More sparks flit along his body. Then, it strengthens to arcs of electricity. Thor starts to shake. “I…I…” The light show dies down. He rapidly shakes his head. “What…oh! Who have I killed?” He turns and sees you. His eye—now a light blue—widens. “Did I hurt you?”
“N-no. I’m fine,” you croak.
Thor backs away, holding his hands out uncertainly. He glances at Loki. “Get her out.”
“Gladly.” 

Be Wary of Strangers, Part 8

Apologies for the lateness; I'm getting over being sick, and man alive my Nano project (read: characters) are absolutely refusing to cooperate... 😒

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Vampire: Loki/Thor x Reader
Part Eight

You’re upstairs in the library when you hear the front door scrape open. You rub your shoulder and the knife you have strapped to your side. Since visiting the vampire, and the wolf attacks, you just haven’t felt safe without it.
Hurrying downstairs, you head into the living room. Loki lays sprawled on one of the couches, eyes closed. The morning sunlight casts odd shadows about the place.
“Hey,” you say, unable to keep an angry edge out of your voice.
Loki sighs. “What happened to the door?”
“Wolves.”
“Wolves.” He frowns. “How long have I been gone?”
“A week. More or less.”
Loki leaps up, obviously forcing himself to keep his eyes open. Cursing, he stumbles past you and to the basement entrance.
“He’s fine,” you call after him. “He’s been fed.”
Loki pauses, shoulders hunched. “Are you infected?”
“Nope.”
He looks like he doesn’t believe you. “All the same, I’d like…” A huge yawn keeps him from speaking for a few seconds. “I’d like to test you.” He continues without waiting for a reaction. “I need to contact the carpenters, restock from the hospital—”
You follow him as he absently wanders into the kitchen. “Don’t you want to know how he was?”
Loki’s red-rimmed eyes attempt to focus on you. “I can deduce well enough. The door, plus your desperation to enter the basement alone…he was not well.”
“Don’t you want details?” Your voice is high in disbelief. “He’s your brother! A vampire! A starving one. And you haven’t asked a single question about him!”
Loki sinks into a kitchen chair and rubs his face. “Fine. How was he?”
“Starving. And missing social life.” You sit down across from him. “He managed to give himself a bath.” Pointedly, you look at him.
He stares back vacantly. “What?”
You sigh, unable to maintain your annoyance at him. He looks like he hasn’t slept since he left. He looked like that before he left, as well…
“I just think you should visit him more,” you say.
“Is that all?”
You nod. “Um…do you need help getting upstairs?”
“I’m fully capable of getting to bed myself,” he says with a wry smile. “However ill I look.”
You watch as he stumbles up the stairs, waiting for him to roll right back down. When he totters, and braces himself against the wall for a full minute, you rise and offer him your shoulder.
For a moment, he looks resentful. Then he accepts your aid. Once you get to his room, he nods. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. See you tonight?”
“If I happen to wake up, yes.”
You turn in shortly after; the night before, you’d been to visit Thor again, and you’d left greatly unsettled. Maybe it was the way he looked at you. Maybe it was the way he’d taken the containers of blood, and let his hands linger on yours.
You put on your pajamas and wrap yourself in the bedsheets, feeling oddly lonely. Your thoughts turn to your sister. “Hope you’re getting better, Bria,” you mutter to the un-curtained window. “Sleep well.”
***
Despite being dead tired, Loki wakes in the early evening. Unsettled dreams and over-exhaustion kept him from sleeping soundly. Feeling as if he would never stop cursing, he heads to the library.
Endymion had said that blood would aid in healing. The fresher the blood, the quicker the healing. The fresher the blood, the faster Thor would be able to gain control of himself.
Loki unconsciously glances to where the girl’s room is. “One more mortal. What’s one more?” he mutters to himself.
During his visit with Endymion, he had taken notes. He pulls the torn and slightly water-stained papers that he had jotted notes on from his pocket. For a moment, he is unsettled. I could have sworn I'd used a notebook, not just scraps, and kept it within a plastic wrap so such damage would not occur.
With a grunt of displeasure, he sits at his desk and does his best to transcribe his barely legible notes into the margins of a larger book of vampire lore.
Thud.
Putting it down to nerves, he continues without pause.
Thwump.
“Odin’s beard, what now?” He rises, an offensive spell readied and glowing in his hand. The girl wanders in the hall, eyes half closed. “Oh, a somnambulist. Wonderful.” He disarms the spell and carefully approaches her.
As he nears, he senses something. Or rather, sees something. A shadow, hovering about her. A very familiar shadow. “Thor,” he growls. “What powers have manifested now?”
Loki puts his hands gently on the girl’s shoulders and guides her to his room. It’s closer than the library, and the girl’s room. As she passes by the iron and silver crosses embedded in the door frame, the shadow about her dissipates slightly. The girl sighs and begins to go limp.
He hurriedly dumps her onto his bed.
“Let’s see, vampires, haunting, dreams…” Loki flips through several bedside books in an attempt to guess what Thor is doing. He glances up and notes that the shadow is becoming more substantial. And more fondling.
“Hang it all.” He opens a drawer and retrieves a bottle with tinted liquid. He sprays it over the girl. “Bad vampire, bad vampire,” he chides, feeling a tad ridiculous.
The shadow seems to see him, then vanishes. The girl’s eyes close fully. She sighs as if in relief and curls up on the sheets.
Loki sits on the edge of the bed for a minute, nose wrinkling at the heavy and unpleasant scent that now permeates the air: garlic, lavender, hyssop, mustard, and several other herbs that never should have been steeped together.

Loki quietly bangs his fist against the desktop. Feeling rather childish—and not caring—he stands forcibly. He hisses, “If my room is going to smell like this, so is Thor’s!”

Be Wary of Strangers, Part 7

Just in case I'm not able to post another part tomorrow, as I promised (3 in one week), this part is a little long. Almost 2K words.

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Vampire: Loki/Thor x Reader
Part Seven

After the second night of howling and attacks on the house, you’re desperate. During the day, you went outside to see the damage done to the door. It was bad. You don’t think it could handle another night.
Loki’s been gone for nearly a week. You can’t go into the basement alone, not if you want to be certain of getting out alive. But then, how much of a chance do you stand if the wolves make it inside?
A few hours before dusk on the third day, you head down to the basement. You’re not entirely sure how Loki opened the door. There are runes, but you’re no sorcerer or magician. Running your fingers along the frame, your nails catch in a small groove. A key hole.

You putter about the first floor of the house, checking likely places Loki would hide a key. Finding nothing, you head upstairs. You check Loki’s room first. Everything is green, gold, and black, like his wardrobe. You wonder absently if there’s significance behind the colors.
Against one wall is a small fridge. Checking inside, you find containers and sacks of blood. You nab two of each, place them in a bag you find under the bed, and continue searching for a key.
When your watch goes off on the hour, you move your search to the library. Only an hour left before sunset, you think. You had been hoping to be in and out before the vampire wakes. Now…
Shakily, you flip through books and rummage through the desk. You find the key slid into the spine of a book on vampire lore. It’s thin and gray, with a single notch at the end, and the top is twisted in a Celtic knot. A black ribbon ties it to the inside of the spine.
You glance at your watch, then out the window. Half an hour before sunset. Hopefully that’s long enough to make it through the maze, leave the blood, and find the back door.
Feeling woefully unprepared, and holding a flashlight, you head down to the basement. It seems colder than last time. As you enter the maze, you can’t keep your teeth from chattering.
The nearby rattle of chains doesn’t exactly help your nerves. The vampire couldn’t be awake…could he?
“I…” You lick your lips, willing your voice not to crack or shake. “I have food.”
You round each pillar with apprehension, expecting—
Movement blurs to your right. A heavy body shoves you to the ground. Your flashlight skitters across the floor and flicks off. Claws brush against your throat. A single red eye looms above you.
You screech.
The vampire yowls back. You feel the bag being torn from your grasp. You hear the leather bag being torn open, and horrid sucking sounds.
You stay on the ground, breathing hard. After a minute, you slowly sit up. The sucking sounds diminish.
The vampire sighs heavily. “Thank you, maiden. I’m sorry if I hurt you; I smelled the blood, and I…I couldn’t help it.”
“You’re welcome,” you gasp. “If you’re sane at the moment, would you mind getting my flashlight? I can’t see.”
“Oh!” Sounding eager to help, he heads past you. “Here you are.” The flashlight flicks on inches from your face.
Temporarily blinded, you reach out for it. “Um…thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Have we…been properly introduced? I’m Thor.”
“Yeah, yeah we have. A few days ago. More like a week, now.” You stand, trying not to look at him, shining the light at his feet. The smell of blood is strong enough you’re certain he got most of it on him rather than eating it.
“Ah. I recall. Vaguely. Did I attack you?”
He sounds so contrite you can’t help but look at his face. His expression matches his tone. His visible eye is a light blue. When the beam of light remains on him, he seems self-conscious. He glances down, eyes his hands, rattles the chains attached to his wrists, touches the blood sticking to him. “It’s funny,” he says quietly. “Everyone always said my brother was the mad one. Now look at me.” His head snaps up. “Where is he? He’s normally the one who comes. Is something wrong?”
“He’s fine,” you say hurriedly. You don’t think it’s a good idea to let him know that you’re alone in the house. “He’s just…resting.”
Thor half-smiles. “You’d think my brother would have found someone who lies better.”
In an attempt to change the subject, you ask, “Are you still hungry?”
Thor’s eyebrows go up. The blood caking his other eye cracks a bit. “Are you offering for me to feed?”
You take a few steps back. “He has more vials and stuff upstairs.”
“Oh. Yes. Please.”
As you head to the back door, you hesitate. “Hey. The other night—for a few nights, actually—you called wolves to the house. Is there any way you can…I don’t know, call them off? Because I have to go outside to get back in the house.”
Thor shakes his head. “I’m afraid I haven’t the faintest idea. Can’t you just go through the cold door?”
You shake your head. “Loki didn’t think that would be a good idea.”
“That whole thing about undead being trapped?” Thor snorts. “A door is a door. I can go through either. If this magical stake would let me.” He jerks his hands, and the iron stake floats into view. Runes, dark for the moment, are etched on its surface.
You weigh your options. Potentially allow him a means of escape, or potentially be devoured by wolves? “Alright. I’ll be back.”
You head to the iron door. Thor doesn’t follow you, for which you’re grateful. The door opens from the inside, though it’s difficult and it keeps trying to swing shut on your fingers.
When you return, you find Thor at his bed. He sits on the edge, looking down at his clawed hands. At your approach, he looks up. His eye flashes a bit.
Hurriedly, you toss the packet at him. He snatches it out of the air. Fangs extended, he bites into the plastic.
You watch, grimacing, as he slips into apparent ecstasy. Blood dribbles from the sides of the bag and catches in his tangled hair. The bag is quickly depleted. Thor tilts his head back and sinks to his knees. Half-smiling, he says, “Thank you again.”
Trying not to gag, you put your hand over your mouth. You make a mental note to reprimand Loki later; he should have tried cleaning Thor up before now. “Mmm-hmm. You…you really need a bath.”
Thor sighs and presses his back against the bed. “Aye. This is hardly befitting…” He trails off, looking a bit confused. He growls, then seems to remember your presence. “I’m sorry. I’ll try not to recall my past while you’re around. I’d rather not hurt you.” He stands. “There’s a bath somewhere in this place. Loki showed it to me at one point. I just haven’t been sane enough to use it.”
“Do you need clothes? I doubt your brother’s things will fit you—”
Thor laughs.
“—but he might have something.”
“No, no, these rags will do. If I can manage to clean them.”
After many wrong turns through the maze, you come upon a small bathroom. There’s a tub set into the stone, and a platform with soaps, shampoos, and towels. There’s even a loofah. It seems Loki wasn’t entirely negligent, after all.
Thor turns the knobs set into the wall above the tub.
“Wait!”
He looks at you, surprised. “What is it?”
“Running water can be fatal to vampires.”
Thor scowls down at the stream of water. “Then why would Loki…” Carefully, he sticks his finger under the stream. With a high-pitched yowl, he leaps back. Clutching his hand to his chest, he growls, “Of course he would.”
“Maybe still water is okay?” you suggest. “Here.” You turn off the water.
Thor hesitantly sticks another finger in the still water. “This doesn’t hurt, so I suppose it’s safe.”
“I can help.”
Thor’s eye darkens slightly, and he smiles. “Do you want to?”
You feel your face turn color. “Do you need help?”
“If you’re offering. And you don’t mind. I would appreciate it.” Thor shuffles a bit. “Perhaps…if you turned off your light? Would that make you more comfortable?”
“No. Definitely not.”
Thor laughs. “Go, I can do it. Wait…” He grabs a sponge and soaks it with the water. Holding a hand beneath it, he squeezes it out. He hisses and drops the sponge. “Yes, I’ll be fine. I’ll just have to be careful.”
As you turn to leave, you ask, “How long before you need to be fed again?”
Thor frowned. “I’m not entirely sure. I haven’t been able to keep track of time very well. Three…” He pauses, letting the water run. “Hungers? Days or nights, I suppose.”
“Alright. I’ll make sure Loki doesn’t do this again.”
“I wish I were able to leave. To be by his side. I don’t like sitting here, in the dark, not knowing. Not being able to help him. Because he needs help, very badly.”
You nod emphatically. “I understand.” With a wave, you turn and head back into the house.
Three days. I have three days before he needs to be fed…

Be Wary of Strangers, Part 6

Vampire: Loki/Thor x Reader
Part Six

 The next day—an agonizingly long handful of hours later, as neither of you were able to sleep after the visit with the vampire—you sit across from Loki. The both of you nurse mugs of tea. Silence stretches between you as you both look into your mugs, lost in thought. Somewhat afraid to break the silence, you clear your throat. Loki glances up sharply.
“So,” you begin. “Maybe we should go through the books again. Try to narrow it down somehow.”
Loki shakes his head slightly. “Do so if you wish. I will visit the one who turned him. Perhaps he will have answers.”
“Who?”
“He called himself Endymion.”
You sip at your tea. The name sounds familiar, though you can’t place it. “Hmm. Are you sure you can trust him?”
“As sure as I am that I can trust myself,” he says darkly.
You nod as if you understand. After a second that your mind stretches into a hazy, sleep-deprived minute, you ask, “Is that a yes…or a no?”
Loki’s grip on the mug tightens; his knuckles go white. The ceramic cracks.
“Loki—!” You hop from your chair as the mug shatters, and scramble for the nearest wash cloth. “Are you alright?”
Loki stares down at the shards embedded in his hands—blood begins to prick from beneath his skin—and laying across the tabletop.
Hesitantly, wondering why he isn’t moving, you swipe away the mess on the table. “Hey,” you say quietly. “Can…can you hear me?”
Loki glances at you. Without a word, he stands and goes over to the sink.
You watch, utterly baffled. Carefully, you walk to him and lay a hand on his shoulder. You fight a yawn as you talk to him. “Okay, you need to sleep before you do anything else. That…wasn’t normal.”
Loki’s expression makes it clear he doesn’t appreciate your demand. He finishes picking out bits of ceramic from his hands. “I’m leaving. I’m going to see Endymion. In the meantime, you can mull over what I didn’t want to tell you earlier.” Somewhat angrily, he flicks water from his hands and dries them on a towel. “My brother and I are from another world entirely. We’ve been in this land—wherever this is, it’s similar enough to the world I know—for a few months.”
You take a step back. A thought shudders through your mind. “How…how are you able to care for my sister?”
“The funds and influence I’ve garnered in this world are more than sufficient, never fear of that.” Loki seems to soften slightly. “Our bargain still stands.”
“If anything happens to her while I’m still around…” You trail off, clenching your fists and shaking a bit. You want to hurt Loki very badly. Him being a stranger with the funds to care for your sister was one thing. But if he was from another world, and whatever source of funding he had was depleted or destroyed…because, really, how much could he have made in a few months? How could he possibly have had the time to gather the influence to build a house like this, pay for labor and amenities, and then pay for life-support at the drop of a hat? Had he even been outside of this country?
Trying to calm yourself, you close your eyes. “We both need to rest before we start getting violent.” You follow your own advice and tromp upstairs.

After a wonderfully long nap, you search for Loki. It isn’t until you get to the kitchen that you find a note: I’ve done as I’ve said. Don’t go into the basement alone. Wait for me.
You do your best to keep occupied, and research vampire lore. Four days pass. On the fourth day, you successfully adjust to a nocturnal sleep schedule.
You’re reading in the library when a bone-shuddering howl begins. You jump, heart pounding, unable to tell if the sound is coming from inside or out.
Hastily, you go to the library window. A heavy fog lays over the land. Eyes blink in and out of existence, and large shadows move through the fog.
You dash downstairs and check the basement door. It seems as secure as before.
Another howl sounds, terrifyingly close. “Definitely the basement,” you gasp. As if in answer, raucous baying and the sound of splintering wood come from upstairs.
Shaking, and debating whether or not this is a good idea, you go upstairs to the living room. Canine jaws and claws snap at the bars of all visible windows. Judging by the sound, they surround the house. The front door shudders. Boom, thud, sccrraaape.
You snatch a butcher knife from the kitchen and hurry to your room. It seems to be a safe place at the moment.
Placing the knife on your bedside table, you hurry to the window. The shades are drawn back, showing the luminescent nightmare scene below.
A body thuds against the window, clawing and scratching. A heavy paw makes it past the intricate bars. With the sickening sound of cracking glass and bone, it’s gone, sliding down the side of the house. You jerk back. “Was that a wolf?!” you screech. “But I’m—second story—window—jump—!”
You yank the blinds over the window. Panicking, you do your best to shove a wardrobe in front of the window. You only make it halfway, but it’s better than nothing. You barricade the door with a chair and the bedside table.
Not knowing what else to do, you huddle in your bed. The braying and howling continue throughout the night. The sounds coming from the basement gradually grow more hoarse, and desperate.
You close your eyes, clutching the knife and waiting for the dawn.

Be Wary of Strangers, Part 5

Sorry, only one post for this week. I didn't get to this as soon as I would have liked, and almost spaced on the blog tour. :P
I'll make it up by posting three parts next week.

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Vampire: Loki/Thor x Reader
Part Five

When you wake, food is the first thing on your mind.
You head downstairs, noting the taut silence of the halls. So far as you can tell, you’re the only one in the place.
As you pass by the door that leads to the basement, you wince. What if Loki is still down there? What if he's…well, dead?
You force your thoughts down a different track and head into the kitchen. The entire place continues to hold to the Gothic theme. There are clawed paper towel holders, silverware styled to look like bone; even the refrigerator has an odd, monstrous skull design molded around the water and ice dispensers.
The food in the fridge and pantry distract you from the dark designs. Greens, raw meat, even herbs and spices that look freshly picked.
You’ve never been happier in a kitchen, and never been happier to eat something that isn’t cafeteria food.
Your mood dims slightly as you sit down to eat. Legends of vampires and the superstitions of the locals swim through your mind.
Nosferatu, Lilith, Philinnion. Methods of killing varied as much as the species of vampire. Some were invisible, some stole skills as one would steal money, and some didn’t drink blood at all. The local rumors were rife with tales of soil soaked in black magics, of forests trapped in a life-leeching mist, and of mountains inhabited by revenants. The mist, at least, she could discount from experience.
What would your caretaker duties entail, exactly?
You shovel food into your mouth and make a note to search for information in the library.
“Good morning.”
Your utensils clatter to the table and you stand partway out of your chair.
Loki tips his head slightly. He doesn’t look like he rested at all the night before. “My apologies.” He moves across the room to the pantry, gathering a few canned goods. “I would like to thank you again for your cooperation. It’s been difficult to find help. Everything has to be flown in, and the locals aren’t very…cooperative.”
You glace at him, then at the extra food you have on the counter. “Do you want any of this? I went a little overboard and made too much.”
The way he looks at you, you feel rather like you’d just offered leftovers to a haughty canine. Heat rushes to your face. “Or…not?”
Loki sighs and sits across from you. He has a plate of canned fruit, some fresh greens, and a cold slab of meat drenched in an odd-smelling sauce. “No, thank you. The food seems a tad too modern for my taste.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Are you a vampire, too?”
“No, I’m not.” Loki chuckles. He takes a few bites of his food. “Do you have any questions before I introduce you tonight?”
“I’d just like to know what I’m dealing with. What type of vampire is he? Is he physical, or the vaporous kind, what does he feed on…?” You trail off and make small circles with your utensil, unsure how to wrangle your questions into order.
Loki is silent for a few moments. “I’m not entirely sure myself,” he admits. He eyes you as if weighing his options. Slowly, he says, “Vampirism may be different here than it is where we came from.”
“It’s different all over the world. Where are you guys from?”
Loki is silent and has his head down for so long, you almost wonder if he’s nodded off. At last, he says, “Perhaps later. I would rather not scare you off just yet.” He gives a sardonic smile and continues eating.
“Okay, um…” Trying not to think about what could be more disturbing than your current situation, you rack your brain for other questions. “What am I supposed to do to take care of your brother?”
“Oh, the usual for household pets or an infirm elder,” he says with lackadaisical sarcasm. “Walk him, feed him, make sure he doesn’t get into trouble, douse him in water from time to time.”
“Feed him? With donated blood?” You ask this last hopefully.
“For the most part, yes.”
“So you want me to be a food source?”
Loki sighs again. “Yes, but that won’t happen until I’m certain he can control himself during the feeding. In which case, he wouldn’t be taking any more blood than you would donate at a blood drive.”
After a prolonged silence, you ask, “Why…why’d you do it?”
“That is another topic I would rather not discuss at this time.”
You growl in frustration. “Then what do you want me to ask?”
Loki jabs his fork into his unfinished food. “I shouldn’t have bothered you.” He stands. “I will introduce you tonight. If neither of us die, we shall see what the morning brings. Good day.” With a surprisingly regal grace, Loki takes his food and heads upstairs.
You spend the rest of the day exploring the house. Not only does the place reek of Gothic influence, but some strange items you come across and haphazardly arranged rooms give the impression of a mad scientist. Once you tire of exploring, you alternate between reading lore on vampires and pacing yourself on a treadmill.
You’re in the middle of trying to do both when Loki interrupts you. He knocks on the lintel of the mostly finished exercise room. “It’s time.”

Stone steps lead down into the basement. Loki holds a torch that does little more than accent the darkness. The mythological-looking door hisses shut behind you. As you reach a level area—the room itself, you suppose—the grind of dirt beneath your shoes sounds startlingly loud. You can’t seem to stop shivering.
Loki leads you through what appears to be a maze. All the while, you hear the teeth-aching scrape of metal, and your own ragged breath.
Before rounding a turn, Loki calls out, “Brother.” His voice is piercingly loud. You jump and wrap your arms about yourself.
You round the corner shortly after Loki does, and peer past him. The vampire stands beside a coffin bed sitting in a dim pool of light. His back is to you, but your attention is immediately drawn to his muscles.
“You trust me, Loki? With such a sweet-smelling lamb?” His voice sends a shiver through you. Not entirely sure if the odd sense of pleasure is genuine or not, you reach into your pocket and clutch the small silver crucifix you grabbed on the way down. The sensation slowly dissipates.
Loki sets the torch in a holder on one of the pillars. He introduces you by name. “This is Thor,” he says to you.
Thor turns. The light of the torch seems different—more real—than whatever light is above the coffin bed. Somehow his smile draws your attention away from the blood and wounds veiling his entire frame. “A charming name,” he says softly.
Somewhat unwillingly, you step out from behind Loki. You force your gaze to the wall behind Thor, fighting the urge to look him in the eyes. “H-hi.”
“What bargain did my brother strike with you? What lie did he use?” He inches forward. You see that the chains are attached to a floating stake, and glance at Loki.
“Magic,” Loki whispers. “Do not fear; it will drive into the ground and he will be immobilized before any harm comes to you.”
You face Thor and stiffen your chin. “I’m here to provide for my sister. I knew what you were before I came down here.”
Thor appears surprised. His visible eye seems to shift, becoming a lighter blue. “You have a sister?”
“Yes.” Having to fight whatever hold the vampire has on your emotions, combined with the rush of feeling for your sister, leaves you vulnerable to tears. You blink hard and swipe the tears away. Your heart thuds heavily against your chest.
Thor tilts his head and licks his lips. “I hunger.” When he opens his eye—you realize now that blood coats the other socket—it seems to have again changed color. His fangs are extended.
Loki acts before you even realize that Thor lunged at you. His arm thrusts forward, and a spark of gold flies from his fingers. With a sickening crack, the stake drives into the ground at an angle. Markings on Thor’s thick chains flare to life. Thor shrieks. Eye rolled into the back of his head, he collapses on the ground.
“What did you do?!” you cry. You start to move forward towards Thor. Before you take two steps, Loki slips a chain of garlic and something else over your neck. You stand there, panting.
“Do you still want to go near him?” Loki asks quietly.
Your emotions settle down into pity. “Y-yes, but just…just to help. He looks like he hasn’t been washed since…well, whenever he died.”
“Perhaps another day.” Laying a hand on your shoulder, Loki ushers you back into the maze. “The magic has weakened him, and I’m not entirely sure water won’t kill him.”
“Looks like we’ll have to spend a day holed up in the library to research.”
“Hmm.”
To your surprise, Loki doesn’t lead you back to the iron door. “Where are we going?”
“To the exit.” He looks confused. “I thought it was standard practice with revenants to never leave the same way you entered?”
You sigh. “This is going to be mostly trial and error, isn’t it?”
“With my luck? Most definitely.”

Be Wary of Strangers, Part 4

Vampire: Loki/Thor x Reader
Part Four

As he opens the door, Loki feels a pang of guilt. “She’s just another mortal,” he mutters to himself. “I do not envy her task.”
Loki steps into the unlit room. Pillars and alcoves seem to make up the entirety, forming a loose sort of maze. He navigates it easily despite the bones—small, most likely having belonged to rodents—unlit candles, and shattered wood planks littering the floor. “Must you make such a mess, brother?” he calls to the shadows.
The sharp hiss of chains scraping against stone send chills up Loki’s spine. 
“I know you’re here.” His brother’s voice—unusually sinister and predatory—hums through the darkness. “I can smell blood. So warm, so sweet.” Silence drags as surely as the chains had.
“A real treat to eat?” Loki eventually says. He forces a small smile. “You sound almost on the verge of poetry.” He emerges from the odd maze to a raised platform. On the platform is a large coffin, re-purposed as a bed. It used to have four posts; they are missing, likely the result of an outburst of temper. 
He lights a sconce set into the wall above the bed. Twisted blue and red sheets cover it, and the pillows lay haphazardly about. Loki sighs.  “I have supper.” He tosses the small black case. It lands just inside the lantern light with a clatter. 
Another drag of chains, and Thor emerges from the shadows. His clothes are tattered and punctured. His nails are long and sharp, his mid-length hair scraggly and unkempt. Fresh wounds, as if from claws, ooze from his chest. Old blood crusts one of his eyes and numerous areas of his body. His good eye, normally a brilliant blue, is saturated with red from the iris outward.
“You’re looking better,” Loki says.
Thor’s mouth twists in something between a gasp and a smile. Without a word or a glance at his brother, he lunges towards the black case. He tears it open, and scrabbles with the metal lid to one of the canisters of blood.
Loki waits, knowing any help offered will be ignored or reviled. He tries to keep his breathing even, his face impassive, as he watches Thor.
Thor growls at the canister. He squeezes the glass, which begins to crack. The runes etched into Thor’s chains glow. With a weak whimper, Thor sinks to the ground.
Loki moves forward. He carefully unscrews several canisters, leaving them upright, then returns to the platform.
Thor blinks and slowly rises. When he spots the opened containers, he howls in joy and sets upon them.
Loki’s face twists in disgust at the bloody display. It twists still further at his thoughts: I’ve done this to him. This is my fault.
“Are you finished?” he asks.
Thor is leaning against one of the pillars, head lolling back in apparent ecstasy. “Hmm?” He blinks slowly and lifts his head. His single eyes loses some of its red and focuses on Loki. “Brother.” He sounds unsure if he should be saying it like a curse or an exclamation of joy. After looking down at the mess on him and the floor, he says it like a curse.
“Yes, hello,” Loki says with a sigh. He descends from the platform and stands beside Thor. “I’ve found a caretaker for you.” He begins to kneel.
Thor’s eye glows red, and he lunges at Loki’s neck. Instead of finding flesh, his teeth clack against an invisible shield. He shakes his head. “What…? Did I…”
Loki straightens and nods.
Thor slumps against the wall. “I’m sorry.”
“He said you could grow beyond the curse.”
“Who?”
“The one who turned you.”
Thor grimaces, and he laughs slightly. “And you would believe someone who could give such a curse.” He looks as if he’s remembering something. Sounding slightly panicked, he says, “The others. The others you brought before, you said they would be caretakers. They’re gone, aren’t they?”
“No, they’re fine. I managed to separate you before they were drained completely, and returned them to their villages.”
Thor observes him for a minute. “You’re lying.”
“Fine, don’t believe me.” Loki puts up his hands. “I thought that, perhaps, with both fresh and donated blood, you would do better.”
“They’re dead. I killed them. The blood of three innocents and who knows how many more—” Whatever composure Thor has breaks. He leaps to his feet gesticulates wildly as he speaks. “I would have given you a proper warrior’s funeral! A pyre, a boat, anything to—mother—father—” He breaks down and wails. Jerkily, he reaches out and grips Loki’s jacket, hefting him in the air. “Why did you do this to me?!”
Loki wraps his steady, clean hands around Thor’s shaking and blood-stained ones. “Because I need you!”
“But at what cost?!” Thor presses Loki against one of the pillars, still shaking. “I can feel it, this, this, thing inside. This curse. It’s eating me alive. Or, or is it dead? I’m dead, and it’s still eating me…” He trails off and his grip grows slack. Loki’s feet touch the floor.
Hurriedly, Loki pulls away. “It’s keeping you alive. You, apparently, want to stay dead.”
“Yes! That’s it. I died. Why couldn’t you leave me alone?” Thor stares gloomily at his untrimmed nails. “But I can’t give in. Not when this beast inside wishes to…oh.” He glances up, and for a moment almost all red is absent from his eye. “I wonder if this is how…what was his name? I’m having a hard time remembering things…”
“The vampire said mentioning past events would run you into a frenzy. I’d rather not.”
“But he might be able to help! Gah, I think this forgetfulness would drive me mad before the remembering!”
Loki puts a protective ward around himself and readies an offensive spell. “Are you certain?”
“Aye!”
Loki stares hard at his brother. “You’re positive?”
Exasperated, Thor growls, “Yes.”
“Banner.”
Thor’s eye flashes. He cries out in pain and collapses, holding his head. “K-keep go-going,” he gasps. “I shall best this…best this yet!” After another scream, he loses all semblance of sanity. Fangs bared, he launches himself at Loki.
Under his breath, Loki mutters, "This is going to be a long night."