The Ritual

effort can finally be set aside as the wastes of mental effort they usually are. No more yearnings or cravings or anxieties. It would all be over soon enough.
    He had just been caught up in the way of the world; on one of its lunatic fringes perhaps, but had still been swept away by the true and deeper undertow of tragedy nonetheless. What happened to
you eventually was just more extreme out here; that was the only difference to being ground down by increments in the other world he had failed at and had now departed for good. The possibilities
for destruction here were not so different in any other place; they just took different forms. Nor was the intent for violence any different here; that was everywhere he had ever lived. Or the
self-absorption, the pathological ambition, the spite and delight in the downfall of others – all of that was back home too. It led here eventually. It was building everywhere. It was in the
blood. A few natural disasters, or the wrong people take charge, or a war gets out of hand and changes the colour of the sky, or the earth becomes irreparably poisoned and water and food run short
. . . and skulls would be smashed, again. Over and over again. Ragnarok. This was the chaos Loki wanted. And he wanted it sooner rather than later, even if it was only around him to begin
with, in his dismal, misguided, obsessive existence.
    To think he’d always championed the outcast too; been a friend of the misfit, the underdog. He was the last person they should have been snuffing out. But losers just wanted to swap places
with anyone above them in the hierarchy. It made his life seem even more hopeless.
    ‘Fuck it.’
    His own weaknesses and mistakes and defects seemed pitiful in comparison to Blood Frenzy. He couldn’t even be bad properly. At least these guys really went for it. He wanted to laugh, but
also acknowledged that he had probably lost his mind. At last. About fucking time. What good had it been anyway?
    Maybe a terrible Karma had indeed led him here. Just so he could realize all of this now, the hard way. He grinned, and showed his own bloodied teeth to the dirty ceiling.
    ‘I wanted it to stop out here. Just for a bit. To be with my friends for a few days. That was all,’ Luke said out loud to God, to the things in the attic, to anyone who might be
listening. He’d just wanted a break from the world he didn’t get along with: his job, the dismal flat, the same nullifying disappointment every day, the getting older and the growing
into it all. He had wanted a change and he had got one.
    He smiled and then he sniggered. A bubble of blood popped on his lips. He suddenly felt mad, and wild, and free of the burden of himself.
    The sound of big heavy feet outside. Loki. Thank fuck: Loki wouldn’t kill him yet. He’d have a little more time to sort his head out before the end. He was
beginning to interest himself; was finally in agreement with himself.
    The door opened. Loki came through. He was sweating heavily, his make-up was tainting his sweat and dripping onto his beard and Satyricon T-Shirt. His hands were red.
    ‘Loki. Your eyeliner’s running, mate.’
    The old woman followed the giant youth into the room. She carried a tray. Upon it stood another wooden jug, and a wooden bowl still steaming. The scent of meat and gravy hit the back of
Luke’s throat and made him gasp.
    Loki grinned. ‘More than eyeliner will be running from you soon, my friend. I look forward to seeing it. It will be quite a show. Maybe we film it too.’
    ‘Bring on Ragnarok. Bring it! The things you can do with a life, Loki. And yet people like you can’t wait to turn back the clock. Fucking savages. Barbarians.’
    ‘Thank you, Luke. Now you begin to understand our Viking ways with foreigners who fuck with Odin.’
    ‘You know, lying here with my face hanging off, I’m beginning to think that the end of the nuclear family was not a good thing. Because people like you might not have happened. There
would have been no Blood Frenzy then, eh? I reckon you took it in the ass from an early age, Loki.’
    ‘Mr psychologist, I think you are maybe full of shit.’
    ‘You’re nothing new, mate. Ragnarok, this time is it? Then a few hikers cop it. And some poor priest. You big shite, Loki.’
    ‘Luke, I remind you, you are guest here.’ Loki wagged a finger at Luke’s face. ‘I give you to an ancient one of the woods very soon. Maybe you tell it your theory. And it
tear your fucking guts