Thor by JC Andrijeski

Author:JC Andrijeski [Andrijeski, JC]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: White Sun Press
Published: 2021-02-17T06:00:00+00:00

10

Missing Person

Morty shrieked when he saw her.

Screamed really.

Whatever the exact word for what he did, he did it really, really loudly.

Staring at her, eyes wide, Morty kept screaming, long enough that she had time to really look at him, even to form an opinion about his emotional state. Under different circumstances, she might have assumed Morty’s scream was at least partly drama. She might have assumed he’d take the emotion and run with it, carrying it further than it really needed to go.

In this case, however, she didn’t really think so.

His face was chalk white, his eyes so wide, his facial expression looked painful.

The look in his eyes, in those pale cheeks and lips was terror.

It was genuine, one-hundred-percent terror.

In the same elongated set of seconds, it hit Silvia that she’d had time to adjust to some pretty weird things over the last thirty-six or so hours. Not a lot of time, granted. Not even a particular reasonable amount of time. But it had apparently been enough time. The mind-blowingly good sex for hours on end definitely hadn’t hurt her adjustment process.

The point is, she hadn’t freaked out.

She’d had the bare minimum amount of time to accept and adjust to the fact that this was really happening––in part because she’d accepted that these things were actually happening.

Morty hadn’t had any of those things.

He hadn’t had time.

He definitely hadn’t been forced to accept as many weird things.

That night in their living room, Morty decided Thor wasn’t really Thor, God of Thunder, but Thor, fellow quirky San Franciscan, obvious eccentric, super-hot gym rat, occasional nudist. To Morty, Thor wasn’t that far off from other oddballs he’d met in the city, especially during open mic night at Lucille’s.

Morty never saw the blue-white lightning, or the nephew who turned into a snake, or the blue plasma ball Thor generated to trap that same nephew in this dimension.

Morty had roughly two seconds to adjust to something truly weird, something his rational mind couldn’t explain.

Which ended up being Thor and Silvia materializing right in front of him, in the middle of their apartment’s living room.

They’d appeared directly between the couch and the television, blocking Morty’s view of the rom-com he’d been watching. As a result, Morty couldn’t possibly miss the whole “materializing out of thin air” part of their arrival, given that he sat on the couch, his socked feet resting on the coffee table, a bottle of beer halfway to his lips.

In retrospect, Silvia thought, watching Morty scream, she should have told Thor to bring them into her bedroom instead.

Or the foyer, maybe. Or right outside the apartment’s front door.

Or hell, even the bathroom.

It was too late for any of that now, though.

Silvia held up her hands, in the vague hope the gesture might be soothing.

They’d come to see Morty specifically, so going to the apartment made sense. They were still in Tyr’s house––or gold basement, or place of work, or whatever that black building was––when Thor asked Silvia where someone would leave her, Silvia, a message, if they wanted her to get it right away.

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