Zombie Prompt?!?!

[adoxography]

Loki did not bleed, humans bled. Mortals bled. Pathetic little ants bled when they were crushed under his boot-- but he did not bleed. Yet, here he was pressed against the doorway of a safe haven, trapped with the creatures he had so tried to kill-- not the undead, no, the humans with a wound in his shoulder that felt as unpleasant as it looked. Blood bubbled from between pale fingers, a red stain across the grass green of his tunic, it reminded him of a dozen things-- the bright edges of the sun over Asgard, Thor, of the many he had killed, Germany. He was without such things now, instead forced to rely on his wit and in great desperation the lost souls he had so condemned.

Now he was forced to their level or as close as he had ever been and it filled him with a sense of desperation. How could one hate others if there was no fall back, no magic to curl around his fingers and use to his every whim. Was he still Loki without it? Of course. It is not magic that makes Loki, despite what those of Asgard would believe. He was a trickster far before he was a sorcerer and the power of his words could be as deadly as any blade offered. As a fire without smoke still burned, was still a flame and knew not why it did what it did, simply that it did it-- as was Loki, a trickster who did not need to second guess himself more than the brief moment allowed. He was Loki and it mattered not what power he had or where he hailed from because he always had power-- one he would not allow to be taken from him.

Let them think him weak, let them believe he cannot pry them apart bit by bit and word by word. He will use that, because he may rise far past where they underestimate him to be.