Admiral Steveface (pandoras_closet) wrote in monstersvaliens,
Admiral Steveface

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Fic: Knocking on Heaven's Door - Chapter 2

"Fascinating." Cockroach was shaking his head as he entered Monster Central's medical wing. "Her furs are real, but of no known animal. They're also at least five thousand years old."

"Is she another Qauntonium creature?" Monger asked. He stood near Susan, who was rapidly paging through books.

"No. And I looked very carefully. Her blood contains DNA of every plant and animal on earth, and DNA I've never seen before as well."

"Then she's a Monster?"

"Hardly." Cockroach sniffed. "A monster is a mutated life form. Link, Bob, Susan, and I are all mutants of some form. We all also carry DNA markers that mark us as being human. Our guest, while carrying human, or Terran DNA, does not have those markers."

Wait a minute." Link was scratching his head. "Susan has that Qauntonium stuff that makes her big. Don't that make her not a monster?"

"Depends on who you ask," Cockroach replied cooly, with a side glance at Monger, "She is, however, most definitely a mutant, as the Qauntonium only changed her DNA."

"That helps a whole lot of nothing, Cockroach," Monger growled.

"Yes." Cockroach turned his attention to Susan. "What are you doing, my dear?"

"Our guest is dressed in old Nordic furs and armor. I have a sinking feeling I know who she is," Susan replied. "I hope I'm wrong."

"In books? I'm pleased to see research skills are alive and well."

Monger chuckled. "You never saw her file, did you, Doc?"

"I've never had the opportunity, no," Cockroach crossed his arms.

"Murphy?" Monger asked.

"Bachelor's in English, Masters in classical literature, PhD, library science." Susan replied, distracted. Then her eyes widened. "Found it . . . this is not good."

"I don't like 'not good', Murphy," Monger growled, "'Not good' makes me twitchy. How bad is this 'Not good'?""

"Ragnarok bad."

"Gueseuntite!" Bob called out.

"Ragna . . . what?" Link asked.

"Ragnarok, Link," Cockroach said gravely, "The Norse end of the world. Susan is right, if our guest is indeed who she thinks, then the end of the world is upon us."

"Really? Bob asked. "I feel fine."


"In Norse myth, Frigg, Queen of the Gods, made all things in existence swear an oath never to harm Baldr, her son," Susan explained as they rode an elevator down to where their guest was. "All except mistletoe, which was too young to demand an oath from. Later, Loki, God of Mischief, tricked Blind Hodr, Frigg's other son, into shooting an arrow made of Mistletoe into Baldr, killing him."

"As punishment," Cockroach picked up the tale, "Loki was taken to a place deep beneath the earth, bound in chains made from his son's intestines and atop three stones. A snake was placed in a tree, where it continually drips venom into his eyes. Loki's wife, Sigyn, sits at his side, holding a bowl to catch the venom, but she must peridoically take it away to empty it. When she does, the venom causes Loki such pain that his convulsions shake the earth."

"Ew," Link cringed, making a face. "So she's Sigyn?"

"It would appear so," Cockroach replied. "And that's the problem. Sigyn is described as 'loyal Sigyn' and for her to leave Loki's side means he's broken his bonds, which is one of the signs of the onset of Ragnarok."

"Wait a minute." Link scratched his head. "If Loki getting free is supposed to happen, why'd Sigyn come to us?"

"Exactly, Link. Why indeed?"

Monger's earpiece chirped as the elevator slowed to a stop. "Looks like you'll get to ask her yourself, Doc. She's awake."

"Yay!" Bob hurried off the elevator and the others followed.

Sigyn was standing, eyes wide in panic. As Bob entered, she fell her knees, shrinking down to Bob's height. "Please, creature of Hel, fetch your mistress. Time grows short."

"Mistress?" Bob blinked. "We work for General Monger." He turned to Monger. "What's a mistress?"

"General . . . ? You're . . . Mortals?" Sigyn's face fell. "Then this is not the realm of the dead?"

"I'm afraid not, my lady," Cockroach stepped forward. "But perhaps we may still be of assistance?"

"No! This is a matter for Gods, mortal. Pray, show me your gates and I will begone." She began to stride out.

"Who set Loki loose?" Cockroach called out as she passed him. "Who brings Ragnarok before its appointed time?"

Sigyn froze in mid-step. "Who are you to know such things?"

"You have been at your task for eons, Milady," Cockroach replied. "The world has moved on. Few are aware of the deeds of the Asgard, fewer still of you and your sacrifice." Now he turned to look at her. "You are Sigyn, wife of Loki. Ever loyal, you have sat at his side since he was bound and chained for the murder of Baldr the brave. You have forsaken all pleasures and amusements to spare him pain. And now you come seeking aid. Only the freeing of Loki before the advent of the Three Winters could cause you to leave his side."

"You are but mortals." She turned to face him.

"We are more then mortals, Milady," Cockroach smiled. "We're Monsters."
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