Web of Deception: Chapter 11 - The Return of Loki, Corporate Blunders and Bad Language
This is chapter 11 in a round-robin story, titled "Web Of Deception". This chapter is the continuation of Francie's post right here. If you can remember the story through the writing styles of 10 different people, then continue on. But if you don't like being lost, just start over with Ben's chapter 1 and then go from there. I suggest you simply subscribe to the RSS feed available here.
Chapter 11 – The Return of Loki, Corporate Blunders and Bad Language
Loki sat patiently in a rotted deck chair on the small fishing boat, he had nothing but time. In order to finance his thousands of years at sea, Loki had taken on quite a few advertisers for his small fishing vessel. It was like riding in a wet Nascar stock car. He just didn't have the incredibly sharp jumpsuits and hot babes the drivers seemed to draw. While some would say he appeared weathered and ragged from many years at sea, he is actually only able to change his appearance for small lengths of time from it’s normal state of constantly rotting flesh. This curse he brought upon himself since losing the battle for the egg.
The listing of the tiny craft from side to side did not make him ill. While Dramamine was a welcome chewy little orange tasting tablet, it was actually impossible for sea sickness to occur. He carried no cargo, no food or even water. His crew had no needs. The zombies he controlled on the ship worked tirelessly at his command. While they did desire a good movie now and then, Hollywood had been disappointing him for years. And try finding a Blockbuster that will let you keep a movie for years. If the zombies had the ability to complain, he would have simply killed them. He has turned many to dust as his frustrations flare while he endlessly searches the world.
He had been on an endless journey since 965 CE to once again locate the powerful egg, which would return to him not only his immortal presence as a stag, but domination of modern upper earth. While he could not directly touch the egg without the amulet in place, he was prepared to adorn the magical insignia once he had regained possession. He carefully ran his hand along the knife’s edge he always kept close to create the amulet upon himself. A local anesthetic would not be required. He would gladly suffer endless pain for the gifts that would come to the true handler and controller of the power it contained.
He fumed as he thought of the last several thousand years of searching. The one time he knew he had the egg in his grasp, that year of 965 CE that would change him forever, it turned out that the sacrificial acts of Freydis were only to redirect him for a short time as it was placed elsewhere. What he had recovered that day, wrapped in deerskin, was simply a stone. Not even a worthy one to present to his mate. It was simply a river rock found now in some place in Upper Earth they pronounce Misery. It sounded like his kind of town actually. The rage he had felt when he opened the bag and unwrapped what he thought was the egg, turned into a regretful destruction of half of the Skrælingjar warriors that served under him at the time. He would have completely destroyed them all for their failure, but the rest had scattered as he systematically skinned those within his reach. The skinned ones became his workers. With the evil he had laid upon him, he himself was cursed with the rotting flesh. It was a cruel joke by a higher level god, and it did not make him laugh.
Over time, many had been chosen to carry the egg and wear the amulet. But none had been worthy and he had destroyed them. Some did not die easy, which he envied their fight. He made sure they died respectfully as any true warrior would wish to perish. As for the cowards? Teasing death or having it inflicted unknowingly was humiliating enough, he provided far worse.
With a flick of his wrist, he turned a zombie into dust as his rage caused a large piece of his ear to fall off. Another worker stepped into place as he coughed and shouted at them, “Damn you all, you deaf, skinless and wet asses, get me to that boat! I sense the presence of the egg is known.”
The current watchmen groaned loudly in ancient Skraelingjar tongue, “Mrcacktect nliunt ront wsunt” **
“No one understands you, idiot” shouted Loki. “I have told you many times to take the Pimsleur cd’s on basic English.”
True, his evil was beyond what modern times could ever imagine, even with the limited power he has now. He was prepared to show those on the distant boat just that in short time, a very short time. He would give no mercy, as he had not been shown any himself since becoming a demi-god in a stag’s form, at the hands of the one known as Gates. Purported god himself of what modern fools call technology. Loki himself uses this technology often, mainly to use his Facebook account and the group he started called “The Underworld”. But, for him, keeping friends is not an easy thing to accomplish. It seems he kills them off quite regularly for entertainment and frustration. He carried no damned cell phone to Twitter away his days. Everyone knew cell phones caused cancer and he needed no further damage. He did however seem to draw a large crowd of Nigerians that wished to fund him.
** - "They have hit land"
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Mike handled the child delicately, unable to almost breathe as he held her tighter. Inside the cape, his hand felt something odd, yet hard, towards the top. He would investigate that further after he was able to calm himself. He noticed she carried the same markings on her skin that he did, just in a more delicate pattern. They almost looked as they were part of her skin. Unlike his that still stung like hell when he thought of it. A whole bath of Neosporin wouldn’t solve his issues, while it might leave a greasy film.
He gingerly pulled the glass pieces from his forearm as he whispered loudly to no one in particular, “It seems that no one is here. Where did they all go?”
Rightfully, he did not expect or receive an answer of any kind. Had someone responded, his current state of mind would have caused an accident no man is proud of. Plus he had no idea where extra pants might be at this time.
Something in the back of his mind did drive him to investigate the sudden halting of the ship and lack of current forward movement. Mike headed stern and faintly saw that the ship had hit land. It was some form of gravel area that led to a roadway between some large oaks. They stood proudly, providing a darkened arch which the light could not seem to wind a path into. He estimated he could only see about 60 feet before the road was swallowed whole by the mouth made by the trees. There was no sign of anyone there, nor any sign anyone had been there recently. No tire tracks, no trash of any kind or even footprints from animals that would have come to the water.
He contemplated finding a soft and level area to lay the child on while he explored the boat for survivors. This was quickly refuted when the ship arched slightly with the incoming tide and things began rolling freely as it settled back. Mike acted quickly like a Boy Scout, tying the cape in a loose sling and placed the child carefully inside so she lay snugly against his chest and her head towards his left arm.
Searching the deck he uncovered parts of bodies and tumbled gear and equipment. He had a better chance of solving the Rubik’s Cube in record time than matching what part went to what torso. He had seen much in his military career, but nothing had instantly caused this amount of shredding with no visible ship damage included. The hitting of land was not any possible cause of this as he was standing in one piece.
A quick run below deck gave the same results. Mike thought carefully for a minute and came up with an actual result that made sense to himself.
“No bullet holes, no signs of knives or discernible weapon. Every face, well that I can see at least, has no look of pain or shock. It means it all happened at once and instantly. What the hell?”
As he removed yet another shard of the glass from his forearm, he actually had a brain movement that even had himself hear the gears clank into place. The only ones not touched were himself and the child. Both with the designs into their skin. Maybe this marking was able to vitiate what just occurred on the ship.
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Loki had spent quite a bit of energy in commanding such a curse at the range they were from the boat still. But it had to be done. This damn military had become a nuisance for him as these leeches of upper earth gained in technology. He was endlessly upset of having to rebuild his zombie army. Many of his long members of his Facebook group had been promoted to Sergeants, of sorts. He had granted them the ability to create and command a small handful of zombies to hopefully provide a larger scale search. He had gotten lucky with Dufay, but he proved incompetent in the end and had perished.
Callie on the other hand, was a work of perfection. Having her watch Mike, waiting until the time the egg would surface. Then there was JC. Why he had wished for the shape of a cat was beyond Loki, but KC was one hell of a snuggler when he was happy. He sat back and issued a loud cough.
“Arcdient porstuv knexs hufnbied”
“Yes, yes. I can see still you know! For the love of Goulditkat, I am sitting right here”
In order to calm his nerves, and his cough, Loki found that there was something that upper earth provides that still amazed him. With all the powers and magic he controlled, he could not get rid of a cough. He was not sure the differences between Robitussin, Wal-tussin or that dreaded Triaminic dye-free raspberry, but he constantly needed it. One person he did admire was that Sam Walton. He had cursed him long ago into building something so powerful, people would flock to it no matter where it was built or how badly it sucked in providing for the welfare of local towns, pay scales and work hours. At first he thought his curse had failed as the fast food industry flourished, but Sam came on strong and made one hell of an off brand cough syrup too.
Loki quickly refocused as he took yet another capful and prepared for a battle that would bring him in control from lower to upper earth. He knew that Mike now carried the true egg somewhere on the ship and had been chosen as the protector. As those before Mike, he would soon look deep into Mike's eyes to draw out all the fear his soul posessed.
Loki directed his crew to pull alongside the beached ship
Mike arrived back on the upper deck as a tiny boat with an advertisement for Clorox Bleach, Triaminic, Earl's Best Lawn Care and Haynes Briefs pulled alongside. As he contemplated a slew of mental items: how much his throat hurt; were his clothes dingy; and boxers or briefs, he soon realized he better snap to attention as a large group of zombies stepped into his ship. Followed by a man in an orange jumpsuit, crash helmet and the ugliest face he had seen.
Footnote 2 - ”The ship is close master”
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On Tuesday, July 1st, 2008 by Chris Miller
