This was the first time he had killed a man with a hammer. He plunged it hard into the man’s head, blow after blow in a repetitive motion. The crushing sound of the skull breaking and the squelching sound exuded whenever the hammer made contact with blood and brain matter was a heavenly melody to his ears. Thor laughed with amusement as he kept pounding until Odin managed to gargle hoarsely; “Son of a bitch.” Blood splattered out of his mouth and some spilled onto Thor’s Armani suit. He wore it for this special occasion so he didn’t really mind the stain, but he had still loved the suit.
He clucked with a slight annoyance. “I need a new suit.”
“I’ll call Sif to get you a new one,” Fandral offered as he and Volstagg let go of Odin’s unresponsive body which fell with a loud thump to the carpeted floor. Odin’s eyes were half-open and the blue was already dull with lifelessness, but Thor could still see the terror in them. He grinned maniacally as he studied the body for a moment.
“Hand me a knife, Hogun.”
He used the knife to dig out Odin’s left eye. It was a little messy and there was more blood sprayed around and all over Thor. He managed to dislodge the eye after he sliced through the muscles and tissue attached to the eye – superior oblique, superior rectus, lateral rectus, inferior rectus, inferior oblique; he recited to himself when he cut them one by one.
Thor kept a room full of eyes and no one was allowed to enter, well, not that anyone dared to unless they were Loki. Only he was permitted to be in the room. He touched and played with the eyeballs, squeezing the already wrinkled sclera curiously as he asked Thor the story that lay behind the eye in hand.
When Thor had finished with his story, he wrapped both his arms around Loki tenderly, nuzzling the side of Loki’s face as he whispered lovingly, “I love your green gems, brother. I want to rip out your gorgeous eyeball and suck it into my mouth, and if you have been a good boy, I will let you suck it too. Then I shall display it here in a glass casket.”
A slight shiver passed through Loki’s body and it was not because he was afraid, he was turned on, and he started to writhe himself against Thor. He moaned, “Only mine?”
Loki felt Thor’s head nodding behind him.
“That bitch you were fucking with?”
“Unless you considered yourself as my bitch, I did not fuck anyone but you.”
“Jane told me you adore her eyes.”
“Oh, I do. But I would never be unfaithful to you.”
Loki placed the eye back where it belonged and turned himself around to wrap both his arms around Thor. He kissed Thor fervently and felt the other’s hand reached for his pants, unzipped them and gripped his dick, pulling and squeezing his half-hard length. Loki groaned as he writhed forcefully into Thor’s hand, seeking for more pressure and Thor had to push him onto the only table in the room that was situated opposite the shelf that kept all the eyeballs.
There were fifty-three eyeballs facing them as Thor wrapped Loki’s dick with his mouth, sucking the pre-come and sliding over the length, his tongue stroking the hot flesh. Quiet moans and smothered whimpers filled the room as Loki yanked Thor’s hair. Thor had to hold Loki’s hips tightly with both hands as he pressed one thumb into his hole forcefully; Loki instinctively clenched to stop the burning intrusion, but relaxed when he became aware of Thor’s gentle prodding. He extracted his thumb and pushed two fingers inside immediately. A strangled moan of pain and pleasure escaped Loki as Thor continued to bob his head swiftly and worked with his fingers.
Loki reached his climax as soon as he felt Thor brush over the spot which stimulated him over the edge. He chanted Thor’s name like a prayer, over and over again as Thor kept milking him, some of the white come trailing down Thor’s jaw when he eventually pulled away. His swollen lips glistened lewdly and Loki pushed himself upright to kiss him and clean his jaw with his tongue, tasting his own salty seed.
“Promise me that you won’t fuck that bitch.”
His words caressed Loki’s lips, “Aye, I promise.”
“Eight thousand FMG-9, five thousand ACR, ten thousand Mk. 14 EBR and 6P-41 Pecheneg, and of course the bestseller AS-50, I ship fifteen thousand of those to you. Overall cost is seven hundred and seventy-seven billion.”
Tony Stark turned to look at Thor. “How ‘bout some personnel weapon for you? If you want to have fun and raze some random animal habitats, I recommend you M72 LAW.”
“Why would I want to destroy some jungles? And I have Mjolnir.”
Tony cringed at him, “I don’t know if I should find it disturbing or cute that you name your hammer like it’s your teddy bear. Anyway, make sure you get another hundred billion from Siberia. You could top-up to an additional thirty. I gain profit from you and you gain profit from Siberia.”
Tony paused for a moment as if contemplating something. “So… you and Loki?”
Thor simply gave him a stare, and if Tony was anybody else - fortunately he was not- he would’ve been feeling restless at that moment. Tony was not perturbed even one bit. He was awesome that way.
“You have balls. I mean, you do have balls, but with Loki, seriously? I’m surprised your balls are still attached to you. Loki is Laufey’s psychotic son and I heard that you call him brother. Very kinky, Thor.”
Laufey was the notorious leader of another criminal organization, and he and his men were quite well-known for the trail of bodies that they left behind. Severely disfigured and foully dismembered. It was a wonder to Tony that Laufey did not kill Thor for fucking his son. Or maybe even Laufey was damn terrified of Thor, and was probably threatened by Loki should Laufey harm his lover.
Nevertheless, Thor and Loki were still the top dogs for being the most schizophrenic among the psychos.
“I wish I had Mjolnir with me now so that I could hammer your fucking head.”
Tony knew that sometimes Thor wished to kill him because he was a conceited son of a bitch, and, admittedly, he was. But Tony always knew that he was the best arm dealer in US and Europe, if not the world. Thor needed Tony for all the best weapons especially those uncommon one in the black market. Thor just had to settle the green and Tony provided the best loot. They needed each other in their business.
A figure came up to them from behind Thor and Tony suddenly went rigid. No matter how nonchalant the other figure appeared to be, there was something about Loki that freaked Tony out.
Loki smirked at him as if he heard the entire conversation that Tony had had with Thor seconds ago. He stood next to Thor, their shoulders brushing, and there was something intimate by the look of it. Tony wondered if perhaps Thor and Loki’s relationship was not as disturbing as everyone told him, and that no sadomasochism was involved, that this was just a deranged couple who were in love with each other.
“Brother,” Loki purred, and Thor turned to see the man beside him. “Will you have his eye after you kill him? You already have fifty-nine. Stark’s could be the perfect sixtieth eyeball.”
“Hell no!” Tony responded out loud, Thor glanced at him and spoke, even though he was addressing Loki.
“Even his eye would look stuck-up and infuriating among the others,” Thor responded.
Instead of feeling disturbed, Tony actually felt somewhat insulted. All the ladies, and sometimes men, that he bedded had confessed that his blue eyes were like looking into a very humble and pleasant soul, and no, it was not because they were drunk or high on amphetamines when they said that to him. Why Thor thought otherwise completely baffled him. He sighed in disappointment.
Byleistr and Helblindi
It was said that those who had witnessed the bloodshed that Loki had caused would rather kill themselves than be killed by the sadistic and utterly ruthless man.
There were stories of Loki eating his victims alive while they were still screaming and howling in pain and terror. He would lick the blood from his fingers after he finished and then continue to cut their body slowly with a cleaver, and when the process got too difficult, he used a machete to take out the intestines, kidneys, liver, stomach, pancreas, lungs and, finally, the heart. The victim died during this horrifying process and Loki enjoyed every second of it.
There was also a story of Loki committing necrophilia as he quenched his desire with a woman that he had killed, and later ate her heart after he dissected all of the main organs from her body.
No one knew if any of these stories were true or not. Loki never denied them nor did he ever concede the stories were accurate. Those who dared, which was only Byleistr and Helblindi, had tried to ask their brother the authenticity of those stories, but Loki, in his most lucid and sane moment that they ever witnessed, just smiled serenely, and they felt a strange chill pass through them.
Since then, no one dared to find out the truth.
Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun
Loud and tortured screams erupted in the billiard room of the mansion.
Loki had broken the man’s left leg and right arm, even managed to dislocate his right shoulder and strike the man’s head on the billiard table several times before he stabbed him repetitively with the cue stick as if he intended to drill holes into the man’s body.
Volstagg watched the scene in front of him with apathy as he wondered when this ordeal would end because he was hungry. Fandral studied the blood patterns on the man as he mentally reminded himself that he needed to make another call to Sif to get a new cue stick, and maybe a new billiard table. Hogun, on the other hand, observed with keen eyes since he was curious to see what other kind of infliction a cue stick could do to a man.
The man was one of theirs, but they knew not to interrupt or find themselves in Loki’s way when he went berserk and stabbed the person with a blunt object, especially when said person called Loki a whore.
Five other men who were also Thor’s lackeys were too terrified to even move and simply stood there, watching their friend being violently abused by their boss’ lover. They knew that Loki was psychotic like their boss, but this was their first time they had witnessed the extent of Loki’s madness.
“That is enough, brother,” Thor’s voice boomed inside the billiard room.
Loki froze; his hand was still clutching the shaft of the cue stick, the tip dripping with the blood from the man lying on the floor.
Loki snarled, “Fuck you, Thor! I’m not your brother!”
Thor ignored his spite and told him, “It’s not fair that you have all the fun. Hold him tight. It’s my turn now.”
The man, who was still fully conscious, was crying painfully as he struggled to get away from the further violence that was soon to be upon him. But Loki quickly held him firmly to the floor.
“You,” Thor pointed at one of his men, “Get me a knife.”
He grinned brightly at Loki and informed him, “This will be my first time removing someone’s eye while they’re still conscious. I usually do it after I have killed them with Mjolnir.”
Loki was amused and a delighted cackle escaped.
Volstagg hoped that Thor would do a quick job extricating the eyeball because he was awfully hungry now. Fandral contemplated if he should tell Sif to order another new carpet. It seemed that they had been purchasing new carpets on a daily basis lately, to the point Sif actually screamed at Thor to ‘Please butcher people somewhere else because it is a bitch to destroy a blood soaked carpet.’ Thor would probably receive another scolding from Sif later.
Hogun turned his gaze at Fandral and Volstagg. “Let’s bet how long he will remain conscious.”
Fandral responded quickly, “Three minutes.”
“One minute!” Volstagg insisted.
“Ten minutes,” Hogun told them with a furtive smile. Thor was one of the best medical students in his university, he knew how to prevent rapid blood loss and avoid the nerve that triggered the person to immediately lose consciousness y and impose severe pain at the same time. If not for the fact he had overthrown Odin and taken over the underworld organization, Thor may have be the scariest doctor, or perhaps most terrifying surgeon in the world.
Thor was sitting behind his work table and stared dauntingly at the blood-soaked Loki who stepped into the room unannounced. Heimdall had been just in the middle of briefing Thor about a load of narcotics that just come in from Naples. He stopped mid-sentence once Thor’s attention was no longer on him and silence descended on the room, but it was not long until Thor finally said to Loki, “I lied. I didn’t fuck Jane. I was merely coercing you.”
“I know,” Loki rasped as if he had been overexerting the use of his voice. His charcoal-coloured shirt was drenched, and if not the intense smell of copper filling the room and streaks of blood on the side of his face, Heimdall might had thought that he had plunged into the backyard pool and hurt himself.
Heimdall watched Loki throw something and realised what it was when the thing landed on the table and rolled to Thor’s fingers. One lone eyeball, with a coal black pupil and blue iris, stared disturbingly up at Heimdall.
“I could hear the honesty from the way she screamed and begged. Consider it as an early birthday present from me.”
“You went to her place?”
“She came in here two hours ago.”
Thor and Heimdall had been in the mansion for fifteen minutes. They had gone for two hours to meet Phil Coulson, a very uptight individual who seemed so out of place as a pimp that even Thor was rather miffed at his tetchy manner. Heimdall could understand why Fury preferred to send Coulson to settle the deal with Thor regarding their brothel business.
“I called and told her you were hurt. Shot in the heart and dying. She believed me.” Loki chuckled. “That poor little bitch actually believed me. Her body is in your room.”
Thor sighed exasperatedly. “Guess I have to sleep in the guest room now.”
“We could sleep in my old room. You love my old room.”
“Did you soil the carpet?”
Loki shrugged nonchalantly. “Just tell Sif that I did it and I’ll pay for the new carpet.”
Thor stood up and walked towards Loki. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, cupped the face in his hand tenderly and wiped away the blood. After a moment Thor murmured softly, “I have to punish you for killing a good friend of mine. But I must repay you for the eye. It’s a lovely birthday gift. Thank you.”
“You could fuck me dry. Tear me inside like you did last time.”
“You didn’t let me touch you for months after that.”
“You could fuck me gently after I heal. Promise.”
Sometimes Heimdall questioned his sanity for serving a bunch of certifiable mentally-insane people. Actually, ever since Thor took over, his work so far has been interesting. His life was less dull than before and observing the peculiarity of Thor and Loki’s love relationship was fascinating, albeit disturbing.
Thor kissed Loki and they stayed like that for a while, tongues mapping each other’s mouth and Heimdall felt a slight discomfort that he had to witness such an intimate display of affection. As if finally realising his existence, Thor pulled away and looked at Heimdall. “We’ll talk of it later. Deal with Jane’s body in the room. And for God’s sake, tell Sif to get me that damn antique French carpet from Aubusson. I am terribly bored with Persian.”
Heimdall left the room and closed the door, but not before he heard Thor’s soothing voice.
“Take off your clothes and lay on the table. Then spread your legs for me, brother.”