Fill: (As of yet) Untitled - WIP 1/?
Written for this prompt on norsekink.
I
Detective Thor Odinson slammed down the receiver in fury and watched the office secretary scuttle away, terrified at the outburst. The police had found the umpteenth corpse in an abandoned warehouse, and as per usual there was no shred of evidence. He swore loudly, pounding his fist down on the desk and sending paper flying in all directions as he stalked angrily out of his cramped office. He needed to clear his mind, or he’d end up destroying the whole place.
A light drizzle was falling outside, but that didn’t prevent him from lighting his cigarette - a bad habit that had only gotten worse with the beginning of this wretched case.
Four months ago a tramp had found the corpse of a young boy, no older than seventeen, in a dingy alleyway. The cadaver had been horribly mutilated and disfigured, with all sorts of odd symbols carved into the skin. The boy had evidently withstood a long period of torture and had only just been moved there. Every inch of the corpse and of the alley was examined and cross-examined for even the smallest, faintest, most confused bit of evidence. None, of course, was found; it had been evident from the beginning that they had to do with an extremely intelligent psychopath. And if the torture hadn’t been enough, after the post-mortem it became evident that the victim had been raped. Even though he’d seen more than his fair share of bloody corpses in his service, Thor had thrown up and spent his night off with a bottle of liquor and his disgust to keep him company - this wasn’t only the work of a killer, but that of a cold, calculating madman.
The murderer hadn’t stopped there, of course. Three more corpses had shown up in as many months - always on the same day, the ninth - each meticulously tortured and killed, each found in desolate or run-down parts of town. The other victims had been raped as well. And when they’d started assuming that the killings would come regularly once a month, a new corpse had just been found, only two weeks after the last murder.
Thor finished his cigarette, stomping it angrily into the ground and walking back inside to grab his coat. His partner, Tyr Hymirsson, was already waiting near the patrol car, managing to look annoyed and worried at the same time.
“What kept you? Haven’t you heard of the new corpse?”
Thor grunted noncommittally as he got in the Volvo. He liked Tyr, but the case already made him angry and frustrated enough, and the finding of a new victim only worsened a perfectly shitty day. He was in no mood for conversation, so he settled for watching the rain-washed streets unfurling outside the car window instead.
They eventually reached the crime scene in Södertälje, another abandoned warehouse. The cement, old and cracking, could only be distinguished against the grey skies by the graffiti scrawled across its façade, and the building was surrounded by overflowing bins. The ripe scent of putrefaction mingled with the cleansing one of rain.
The police had already set up a perimeter, and there were at least a dozen patrol cars parked in front. The forensics van had arrived as well.
Thor walked up to Volstagg Berglund, one of his friends from the Academy and now an officer. He was huddled in his coat, a preliminary report shoved under his arm. He handed it wordlessly to Thor, a frown on his face. He was usually cheerful and chatty, but the finding of a new body had evidently put a damper on his mood as well.
Pictures of the crime scene had been taken. The vic looked almost otherworldly, like some sort of spindly, gangly-limbed spirit, oddly out of place under the hard glare of the camera flash. His pale skin was riddled with bruises and cuts, with the usual symbols carved deep in the flesh. Some of them had already started to scar, while the newest slice was still slick with blood, pooling in the hollow of the neck. It had obviously been the cause of death. Preliminary medical reports stated that the boy had been raped as well, but Thor didn’t need an official report to know that. The killer had followed all of his patterns: the corpse had been found tortured, raped, and with distinctive scars (that Thor had already begun to recognize at a glance), always in run-down areas of town. And as always, the victim fit into a very distinctive type: pale, thin, with dark hair, light - usually green - eyes, and never older than eighteen.
He didn’t need to see any more. Thor closed the folder and ran a hand over his face wearily. He took a fortifying gulp of the coffee Tyr had given him and entered the warehouse. The walls were mildew-eaten and riddled with places where the damp had crept through and taken the plaster apart. The boy’s body was laying on the ground, blood spattered on the floor surrounding him. His green eyes looked sightlessly towards one of the grimy windows.
Thor sat back on his haunches, inspecting the ground. No visible shred of evidence, no note or shoeprint. Forensics would probably find nothing as well. Thor combed the room once more, and then went away. There was very little he could do. He climbed back into the Volvo with Tyr and returned to headquarters.
*
The apartment was dark when he came back. Perhaps Loki had gone out with friends, but knowing him, that wasn’t likely. At least, if he was out, he wouldn’t be nagging Thor about the serial killer.
Loki had taken to living in Thor’s cramped little apartment a year or so ago. He maintained it had been simply because it was closer to school and he wanted to be closer to his older brother, but Thor knew the real reason had been an argument with their father. Still, Loki had managed to be on civil terms with Father whenever they went to their parents’ house, and eventually they’d made up. Loki kept on living with Thor, though he occasionally slept at home. Thor was more than happy about that. Having his little brother near him seemed to make everything better, somehow. The only drawback of having Loki around was his much too keen interest in his work - which only resulted in hacked computers and Loki berating him, saying Thor should have solved such a simple case in a lot less time.
Thor threw his coat and jacket onto the couch, slipped his shoes off and stretched out. It had been another long, dissatisfying day without leads - another day they’d let a criminal walk free. The sick fucker had probably found himself another victim already. Thor sat up and poured himself a drink. He really needed one at this point. Four months and five horribly disfigured corpses they had no leads on were starting to attract the notice of the press. He wouldn’t be able to avoid the involvement of the media even by calling in all favors he could get, and he couldn’t afford having this type of attention, not with a serial killer as intelligent as this. There’d be chaos; people would start panicking and mistrusting the authority of the police.
He took another swig of the whiskey to shut his mind up a bit and all but collapsed on the bed. At least tomorrow was a Saturday.
*
The smell of coffee and Chinese noodles jolted Thor back into consciousness. The odd combination could only mean one thing, so he prepared himself mentally for any and all questions before striding into the kitchen.
Yellow sunlight streamed in through the open window. It couldn’t have been later than nine thirty or ten o’clock - the street outside was quiet, and everything was enveloped in that particular early morning atmosphere. Loki was sitting on the counter, legs crossed, with a box of takeaway in one hand, chopsticks in the other, and a mug of steaming coffee next to him. His mouth was curved in a smirk, as always.
“Good morning.”
Thor just grunted in reply and reached for the coffee pot. He would need to have his wits about him to avoid Loki’s forthcoming questions. Not that being fully coherent changed things much - if Loki wanted to wheedle something out of someone (meaning Thor), he’d be getting what he wanted sooner or later. So Thor listened to his brother munching on the noodles and waited for the questions to come. Thankfully, he didn’t have much to endure. He hated when Loki said nothing for days on end about the case, as it left him always on his guard, not knowing when to expect an attack.
“So, how’s the case going? Found any clues?,” asked Loki, with an interested gleam in his eyes Thor definitely didn’t miss.
Thor’s voice was grave. “Another corpse was found yesterday.”
Loki just raised an eyebrow at Thor’s tone and kept on shoving noodles in his mouth, clearly unaffected. Generally, he seemed to feel little or no disgust in relation with the case - often Thor came home to find Loki had hacked into the police database to examine photos from the crime scenes, looking through them as calmly as if they were landscape photography.
Loki nodded mutely at him with yet more noodles in his mouth, prompting him to continue. Thor knew he was going to regret this very much later on.
“Everything as per usual. No evidence of any kind, no notes, nothing at all. The victim’s throat was slashed, and he’d evidently been tortured for a long time, probably about a month. He had the usual symbols, and had been raped, probably multiple times. No leads at all, of course.”
Loki hummed appreciatively, and then spoke around another mouthful of Chinese. “I guess it’s your most interesting case after all, then. ‘s a good change from the usual crime of passion.”
Thor scowled and gritted his teeth. His voice was steely, but quickly rose in tone. “Perhaps you might have forgotten, brother, but I’d like to remind you there are lives at stake here. Five people have already been tortured and killed, and more will die, for god’s sake, and the only thing you can think about is how interesting this goddamned string of murders is!” Thor paused, inhaling deeply as he lowered his voice. He’d probably woken the whole building with his burst of yelling. When he next spoke, his voice was softer, almost plaintive. “Does this really leave you untouched, Loki?”
Loki just looked back at him in silence for an instant. Then his face shifted, became compassionate in a matter of a moment. “Of course it doesn’t. But is it going to help us find the killer?”
While Thor might be used to seeing through (most of) Loki’s lying and subterfuge, it had become embarrassingly difficult to get mad at him. So he just huffed in a sort of agreement.
“Still, there is no ‘we’. The investigation is a police matter, Loki. It isn’t for civilians.” He tried to lighten the mood by ruffling his little brother’s hair slightly. When Thor turned away he tried to ignore the hurt look on Loki's face.
*
The next day they went for lunch at their parents’ house. Thor might be an independent adult, but he wasn't not one to refuse (excellent) free food. And of course he liked having time to talk with his family, at least during the weekend. Loki, he'd never failed to notice, was never all that thrilled, especially at the prospect of seeing their father again. They might have overcome their differences officially, but it was obvious that neither party was exactly pleased.
Thor dressed somewhat casually and spent a good half-hour trying to make his brother look decent. In the end, he managed to have him trade his ragged Opeth t-shirt and black sweatshirt for a button down. He actually got Loki to comb his hair back instead of having it hang down around his face. His brother muttered something about looking good anyways, and then they started running down the stairs and towards the tunnelbana. Having grown up with Frigga as their mother, they knew well enough not to be late if they cared at all for their lives.
They managed to arrive a few minutes ahead of schedule at the brownstone in Gamla Stan. The pale pink plaster shone with an almost golden hue in the feeble October light.
Their mother was, of course, already waiting impatiently for them. As soon as they crossed the threshold and given their coats to the butler, Ash, who had come to greet them, she dropped any pretense of a frown and ran to hug them both. Thor let himself be brought back to his childhood for an instant, back to dim memories of late afternoon sunlight dripping onto toy cars, of a long-disputed pie that ended up being divided equally between him and his brother.
Frigga pushed them away to inspect at them at arm’s length, her eyes crinkling in a smile.
“Just look at you. My wonderful boys”. Loki rolled his eyes. “We were here just two weeks ago, mom.”
Their mother just ignored his comment, gave him a kiss, and started talking about the neighbors’ upcoming party, dragging the both of them towards the dining room.
Their father, Odin, came in a few minutes later. He'd probably been busy with Säpo work again - his face was creased with worry, but it brightened instantly when he spotted his sons. His hand came up to clasp Thor's shoulder.
"Ah, Thor. How's that case of yours going? Not going to need any help from Säpo, are you?" Thor and his father threw their heads back to give a mighty roar. Since a case two years ago, when Thor had come to his father, asking for help from Säpo, it had become a sort of inside joke to imply he wasn't capable of solving his own crimes. Actually, Thor had become quite used to his position in the homicide unit and had gained an excellent track record, but he still appreciated his father's insight on cases.
Odin's smile fell a little as he turned to Loki, remaining somewhat fixed. "Loki. I hope school is going well." His hand didn't linger long on his arm; it returned mechanically to his side almost as soon as his brother nodded.
"Well, it's high time we ate. Ash, if you would."
*
Feeling much too full of the chef's excellent lunch and dessert and coffee with more sweets (his mother had been nagging about him and Loki -especially Loki - being much too thin), Thor was about to haul himself out the door and towards his house when his father beckoned him with a finger. Once more, as before, his brow had crinkled in worry around his eyepatch. Thor grew serious again at once. Whatever was grave enough to trouble his father surely wasn't a trifling matter.
"Thor, earlier today I mentioned Säpo's help in this case." Thor was already beginning to look amused, and was about to comment when he was cut off by his father. "Don't interrupt. I have heard of the case only in the most general terms from acquaintances of mine, but if you ever need help for any reason with this assignment, don't hesitate to ask. Someone from Säpo might have already been assigned, or will come shortly; I don't know. What I'm saying is, Thor, be careful. This is evidently not your run-of-the-mill criminal."
"Yes, father."
Odin smiled. "Well, go on then. I'm sure you've something to do."
Loki was already waiting for him in the street. Dark clouds were gathering overhead; perhaps it might rain again. "What did he want?"
Thor smiled and tried not to think too much of the crime scene photos. "He just said something about being careful about this case, that's all." Loki snorted.
"You? Being careful?"
Thor chuckled lightly. "He didn't count on one thing though." His brother raised an eyebrow in question. "And what might that be?"
"He forgot I have the smartest crime-solving brother to help me find the killer."
Loki's eyes were round as saucers, and his voice came out breathy, as if he wasn't quite sure it was happening. "Really?"
"Off the record, of course." Thor couldn't help the smile creeping up his face. "But yes, really."
The sky above rumbled ominously. A storm was coming in.
-
Author's note can be found on the thread.
I
Detective Thor Odinson slammed down the receiver in fury and watched the office secretary scuttle away, terrified at the outburst. The police had found the umpteenth corpse in an abandoned warehouse, and as per usual there was no shred of evidence. He swore loudly, pounding his fist down on the desk and sending paper flying in all directions as he stalked angrily out of his cramped office. He needed to clear his mind, or he’d end up destroying the whole place.
A light drizzle was falling outside, but that didn’t prevent him from lighting his cigarette - a bad habit that had only gotten worse with the beginning of this wretched case.
Four months ago a tramp had found the corpse of a young boy, no older than seventeen, in a dingy alleyway. The cadaver had been horribly mutilated and disfigured, with all sorts of odd symbols carved into the skin. The boy had evidently withstood a long period of torture and had only just been moved there. Every inch of the corpse and of the alley was examined and cross-examined for even the smallest, faintest, most confused bit of evidence. None, of course, was found; it had been evident from the beginning that they had to do with an extremely intelligent psychopath. And if the torture hadn’t been enough, after the post-mortem it became evident that the victim had been raped. Even though he’d seen more than his fair share of bloody corpses in his service, Thor had thrown up and spent his night off with a bottle of liquor and his disgust to keep him company - this wasn’t only the work of a killer, but that of a cold, calculating madman.
The murderer hadn’t stopped there, of course. Three more corpses had shown up in as many months - always on the same day, the ninth - each meticulously tortured and killed, each found in desolate or run-down parts of town. The other victims had been raped as well. And when they’d started assuming that the killings would come regularly once a month, a new corpse had just been found, only two weeks after the last murder.
Thor finished his cigarette, stomping it angrily into the ground and walking back inside to grab his coat. His partner, Tyr Hymirsson, was already waiting near the patrol car, managing to look annoyed and worried at the same time.
“What kept you? Haven’t you heard of the new corpse?”
Thor grunted noncommittally as he got in the Volvo. He liked Tyr, but the case already made him angry and frustrated enough, and the finding of a new victim only worsened a perfectly shitty day. He was in no mood for conversation, so he settled for watching the rain-washed streets unfurling outside the car window instead.
They eventually reached the crime scene in Södertälje, another abandoned warehouse. The cement, old and cracking, could only be distinguished against the grey skies by the graffiti scrawled across its façade, and the building was surrounded by overflowing bins. The ripe scent of putrefaction mingled with the cleansing one of rain.
The police had already set up a perimeter, and there were at least a dozen patrol cars parked in front. The forensics van had arrived as well.
Thor walked up to Volstagg Berglund, one of his friends from the Academy and now an officer. He was huddled in his coat, a preliminary report shoved under his arm. He handed it wordlessly to Thor, a frown on his face. He was usually cheerful and chatty, but the finding of a new body had evidently put a damper on his mood as well.
Pictures of the crime scene had been taken. The vic looked almost otherworldly, like some sort of spindly, gangly-limbed spirit, oddly out of place under the hard glare of the camera flash. His pale skin was riddled with bruises and cuts, with the usual symbols carved deep in the flesh. Some of them had already started to scar, while the newest slice was still slick with blood, pooling in the hollow of the neck. It had obviously been the cause of death. Preliminary medical reports stated that the boy had been raped as well, but Thor didn’t need an official report to know that. The killer had followed all of his patterns: the corpse had been found tortured, raped, and with distinctive scars (that Thor had already begun to recognize at a glance), always in run-down areas of town. And as always, the victim fit into a very distinctive type: pale, thin, with dark hair, light - usually green - eyes, and never older than eighteen.
He didn’t need to see any more. Thor closed the folder and ran a hand over his face wearily. He took a fortifying gulp of the coffee Tyr had given him and entered the warehouse. The walls were mildew-eaten and riddled with places where the damp had crept through and taken the plaster apart. The boy’s body was laying on the ground, blood spattered on the floor surrounding him. His green eyes looked sightlessly towards one of the grimy windows.
Thor sat back on his haunches, inspecting the ground. No visible shred of evidence, no note or shoeprint. Forensics would probably find nothing as well. Thor combed the room once more, and then went away. There was very little he could do. He climbed back into the Volvo with Tyr and returned to headquarters.
*
The apartment was dark when he came back. Perhaps Loki had gone out with friends, but knowing him, that wasn’t likely. At least, if he was out, he wouldn’t be nagging Thor about the serial killer.
Loki had taken to living in Thor’s cramped little apartment a year or so ago. He maintained it had been simply because it was closer to school and he wanted to be closer to his older brother, but Thor knew the real reason had been an argument with their father. Still, Loki had managed to be on civil terms with Father whenever they went to their parents’ house, and eventually they’d made up. Loki kept on living with Thor, though he occasionally slept at home. Thor was more than happy about that. Having his little brother near him seemed to make everything better, somehow. The only drawback of having Loki around was his much too keen interest in his work - which only resulted in hacked computers and Loki berating him, saying Thor should have solved such a simple case in a lot less time.
Thor threw his coat and jacket onto the couch, slipped his shoes off and stretched out. It had been another long, dissatisfying day without leads - another day they’d let a criminal walk free. The sick fucker had probably found himself another victim already. Thor sat up and poured himself a drink. He really needed one at this point. Four months and five horribly disfigured corpses they had no leads on were starting to attract the notice of the press. He wouldn’t be able to avoid the involvement of the media even by calling in all favors he could get, and he couldn’t afford having this type of attention, not with a serial killer as intelligent as this. There’d be chaos; people would start panicking and mistrusting the authority of the police.
He took another swig of the whiskey to shut his mind up a bit and all but collapsed on the bed. At least tomorrow was a Saturday.
*
The smell of coffee and Chinese noodles jolted Thor back into consciousness. The odd combination could only mean one thing, so he prepared himself mentally for any and all questions before striding into the kitchen.
Yellow sunlight streamed in through the open window. It couldn’t have been later than nine thirty or ten o’clock - the street outside was quiet, and everything was enveloped in that particular early morning atmosphere. Loki was sitting on the counter, legs crossed, with a box of takeaway in one hand, chopsticks in the other, and a mug of steaming coffee next to him. His mouth was curved in a smirk, as always.
“Good morning.”
Thor just grunted in reply and reached for the coffee pot. He would need to have his wits about him to avoid Loki’s forthcoming questions. Not that being fully coherent changed things much - if Loki wanted to wheedle something out of someone (meaning Thor), he’d be getting what he wanted sooner or later. So Thor listened to his brother munching on the noodles and waited for the questions to come. Thankfully, he didn’t have much to endure. He hated when Loki said nothing for days on end about the case, as it left him always on his guard, not knowing when to expect an attack.
“So, how’s the case going? Found any clues?,” asked Loki, with an interested gleam in his eyes Thor definitely didn’t miss.
Thor’s voice was grave. “Another corpse was found yesterday.”
Loki just raised an eyebrow at Thor’s tone and kept on shoving noodles in his mouth, clearly unaffected. Generally, he seemed to feel little or no disgust in relation with the case - often Thor came home to find Loki had hacked into the police database to examine photos from the crime scenes, looking through them as calmly as if they were landscape photography.
Loki nodded mutely at him with yet more noodles in his mouth, prompting him to continue. Thor knew he was going to regret this very much later on.
“Everything as per usual. No evidence of any kind, no notes, nothing at all. The victim’s throat was slashed, and he’d evidently been tortured for a long time, probably about a month. He had the usual symbols, and had been raped, probably multiple times. No leads at all, of course.”
Loki hummed appreciatively, and then spoke around another mouthful of Chinese. “I guess it’s your most interesting case after all, then. ‘s a good change from the usual crime of passion.”
Thor scowled and gritted his teeth. His voice was steely, but quickly rose in tone. “Perhaps you might have forgotten, brother, but I’d like to remind you there are lives at stake here. Five people have already been tortured and killed, and more will die, for god’s sake, and the only thing you can think about is how interesting this goddamned string of murders is!” Thor paused, inhaling deeply as he lowered his voice. He’d probably woken the whole building with his burst of yelling. When he next spoke, his voice was softer, almost plaintive. “Does this really leave you untouched, Loki?”
Loki just looked back at him in silence for an instant. Then his face shifted, became compassionate in a matter of a moment. “Of course it doesn’t. But is it going to help us find the killer?”
While Thor might be used to seeing through (most of) Loki’s lying and subterfuge, it had become embarrassingly difficult to get mad at him. So he just huffed in a sort of agreement.
“Still, there is no ‘we’. The investigation is a police matter, Loki. It isn’t for civilians.” He tried to lighten the mood by ruffling his little brother’s hair slightly. When Thor turned away he tried to ignore the hurt look on Loki's face.
*
The next day they went for lunch at their parents’ house. Thor might be an independent adult, but he wasn't not one to refuse (excellent) free food. And of course he liked having time to talk with his family, at least during the weekend. Loki, he'd never failed to notice, was never all that thrilled, especially at the prospect of seeing their father again. They might have overcome their differences officially, but it was obvious that neither party was exactly pleased.
Thor dressed somewhat casually and spent a good half-hour trying to make his brother look decent. In the end, he managed to have him trade his ragged Opeth t-shirt and black sweatshirt for a button down. He actually got Loki to comb his hair back instead of having it hang down around his face. His brother muttered something about looking good anyways, and then they started running down the stairs and towards the tunnelbana. Having grown up with Frigga as their mother, they knew well enough not to be late if they cared at all for their lives.
They managed to arrive a few minutes ahead of schedule at the brownstone in Gamla Stan. The pale pink plaster shone with an almost golden hue in the feeble October light.
Their mother was, of course, already waiting impatiently for them. As soon as they crossed the threshold and given their coats to the butler, Ash, who had come to greet them, she dropped any pretense of a frown and ran to hug them both. Thor let himself be brought back to his childhood for an instant, back to dim memories of late afternoon sunlight dripping onto toy cars, of a long-disputed pie that ended up being divided equally between him and his brother.
Frigga pushed them away to inspect at them at arm’s length, her eyes crinkling in a smile.
“Just look at you. My wonderful boys”. Loki rolled his eyes. “We were here just two weeks ago, mom.”
Their mother just ignored his comment, gave him a kiss, and started talking about the neighbors’ upcoming party, dragging the both of them towards the dining room.
Their father, Odin, came in a few minutes later. He'd probably been busy with Säpo work again - his face was creased with worry, but it brightened instantly when he spotted his sons. His hand came up to clasp Thor's shoulder.
"Ah, Thor. How's that case of yours going? Not going to need any help from Säpo, are you?" Thor and his father threw their heads back to give a mighty roar. Since a case two years ago, when Thor had come to his father, asking for help from Säpo, it had become a sort of inside joke to imply he wasn't capable of solving his own crimes. Actually, Thor had become quite used to his position in the homicide unit and had gained an excellent track record, but he still appreciated his father's insight on cases.
Odin's smile fell a little as he turned to Loki, remaining somewhat fixed. "Loki. I hope school is going well." His hand didn't linger long on his arm; it returned mechanically to his side almost as soon as his brother nodded.
"Well, it's high time we ate. Ash, if you would."
*
Feeling much too full of the chef's excellent lunch and dessert and coffee with more sweets (his mother had been nagging about him and Loki -especially Loki - being much too thin), Thor was about to haul himself out the door and towards his house when his father beckoned him with a finger. Once more, as before, his brow had crinkled in worry around his eyepatch. Thor grew serious again at once. Whatever was grave enough to trouble his father surely wasn't a trifling matter.
"Thor, earlier today I mentioned Säpo's help in this case." Thor was already beginning to look amused, and was about to comment when he was cut off by his father. "Don't interrupt. I have heard of the case only in the most general terms from acquaintances of mine, but if you ever need help for any reason with this assignment, don't hesitate to ask. Someone from Säpo might have already been assigned, or will come shortly; I don't know. What I'm saying is, Thor, be careful. This is evidently not your run-of-the-mill criminal."
"Yes, father."
Odin smiled. "Well, go on then. I'm sure you've something to do."
Loki was already waiting for him in the street. Dark clouds were gathering overhead; perhaps it might rain again. "What did he want?"
Thor smiled and tried not to think too much of the crime scene photos. "He just said something about being careful about this case, that's all." Loki snorted.
"You? Being careful?"
Thor chuckled lightly. "He didn't count on one thing though." His brother raised an eyebrow in question. "And what might that be?"
"He forgot I have the smartest crime-solving brother to help me find the killer."
Loki's eyes were round as saucers, and his voice came out breathy, as if he wasn't quite sure it was happening. "Really?"
"Off the record, of course." Thor couldn't help the smile creeping up his face. "But yes, really."
The sky above rumbled ominously. A storm was coming in.
-
Author's note can be found on the thread.