At last, they arrived in the town in Marshall's mammoth territory. It was nighttime, and the town was unusually lit by candles, torches, and lanterns.
He didn't lower the raft, however. It was a massive raft since he traveled with Marty often. There was too much space on it, and that made it the perfect place to hold his date.
"Time for dinner." Marshall looked down and noticed the table he'd ordered the people to make. It was covered by a white cloth, and over it were metal dishes with lids on. There was even a flower vase with candles around it.
Woosh!
He simply levitated the entire table up, along with two chairs, and brought them on top of his raft. After setting them, he walked over to a chair and pulled it back. "Have a seat, Hela."
Entertained, she followed his actions. She moved to sit on the chair Marshall had pulled, acting like a gentleman, a very rare thing.
"Let's see." Marshall removed the lids from all the dishes, throwing them down with no care. The scent was great, and steam was oozing from the food. There were so many things: meat, bread, pasta, cakes, everything a man could ask for.
At last, he took a seat as well, face to face with Hela. Without wasting a second, he shoved food on his plate and started eating like he always did. He didn't even look at Hela while doing that. He just ate, and ate, only when he noticed the food wasn't decreasing much, he looked up.
"Why aren't you eating, Hela?"
Hela was leaning against the table, her elbows on top, her chin supported on the back of her clasped hands. She eyed him the whole time, her gaze plain, no expression.
"What are you?"
"Hm?" Marshall stopped eating, swallowing what was in his mouth. "What do you mean?"
"You. I've always wondered what runs through that head of yours. You dragged me here, arranged everything. For what? A meal?"
"Ah! Son of a bitch, you're right. You actually talk on a damn date." Marshall smacked his forehead. "How are you doing?"
Hela shook her head. "I'm well. It's you who I'm curious about."
"About what?"
"You. What kind of man sires a child, then seeks strangers to warm his bed? To carry them into his home? I am neither wife nor your lover, yet it makes me wonder. Do you not cherish your son?"
"Cherish? I cherish him a lot," Marshall blurted. "Is this about Morgan Le Fay? I'll throw her out then."
Hela chuckled. "It's not about her. I don't care who warms your bed. What I find curious is the absence of reason in your behavior."
Marshall scratched his head, frowning. He put the spoon down and sat back in the chair, arms crossed, staring at Hela. "Speak plainly what you want to ask."
"Your head. Is it empty?"
"Hmm…" Marshall fell silent for a moment, scratched his beard, before looking back at her. "Lower your mental guards. I'll show you what goes on in my head."
Hela nodded, her curiosity piqued.
"Listen to it yourself." Marshall connected a psychic link with her. He said nothing, just let her listen to his thoughts.
"Ugh!" Hela frowned right away. She tried to focus, but then her eyes started to turn red, and veins popped all over her forehead. She stared at Marshall with a horrified look. "W-What… is… all this?"
She heard whispers. So many. They were all in Marshall's own voice.
"Kiss her."
"Love her."
"She's fucking hot!"
"Damn, goth mommy, even got milkers."
"Ummm… Fine stuff!"
"Fuck her face!"
"Fuck her throat… ass is fine too!"
"Gonna rail her later? Better do."
They were the mild ones.
"Hmm… Chop her head."
"Shatter her skull."
"Send her chopped head to Odin."
"Cripple her!"
"Kill yourself, now!"
"Kill everyone."
"They're insects! Kill all humans."
"Own everything."
"Go to space. Leave, leave, leave the world."
"War!"
Hela felt her nose getting runny and quickly raised her mental shields, pulling herself away from all those voices. She used the cloth and wiped her nose, bleeding. It made her, Hela, the Goddess of Death, bleed.
"What was that?!"
Marshall chuckled and offered her another cloth to wipe her nose. "They're my thoughts. Hundreds, thousands of them. They're always in there, talking shit randomly. Suggestions, ideas to do things."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "No idea. Don't ask me when they kicked this party off. Early, though. It was definitely early, a couple of million years into my life, I think. Much before Marty. Then bam, voices. Just me, talking to myself like a lunatic. Drove me batshit. I obeyed every damn command at first, jumped into a volcano, killed myself, killed the lizards, froze myself to death, splattered my head from orbit… Already ticked all the boxes."
"Do they never cease? The weight of them felt unbearable."
"I stopped giving a flying rat's ass ages ago," Marshall replied. "All I can say is that I've stopped thinking. Every time I let the hamster wheel spin, the freak show wakes up and starts gnawing at me. Every damn choice turns into a knife fight in my own skull. So, I just don't think now. No planning, just whatever dumb crap feels right at the time. Sorry if I look like a meathead swinging his fists first. But it's that or go insane, chewing my own brain. You Asgardians can strut around for millennia with shiny armor and smug smiles. My body? It's a rust bucket, not built for eternity."
Creak!
Hela suddenly stood up and walked around the table. She stopped beside his chair and, with a soft hand, turned his face towards herself. She put both hands on his head. "Let me cross in."
Marshall let her do it.
Hela didn't read his thoughts. She rather looked at his brain using her magic. Her brows shot high right away.
"It's fragmented," Hela muttered. "It's as if your mind is being overwritten."
"I know," Marshall replied. "It's a never-ending cycle. Don't remember jack-shit from my early years, just blurry hallucinations. Eventually, I'll forget all this now too. That's why I don't think much. The less I think, the fewer memories I make, the more I can store. Now it's way better though, since Odin murdered me. That bought me a few million years before the brain soup sets in. But… too late, right? Damage is carved in. Bumped into Odin after a pathetic hundred million years of playing human meat-sack."
Hela pulled her hands back and took her seat again. "I believe I know why you became this way. You're no longer the man you used to be at the beginning. You have overwritten your own personality multiple times. Every few thousand years, you overwrote yourself. You lived in never-ending cycles of amnesia and reinvention for a hundred million years before you finally met Odin."
"Yeah, I guess." Marshall started eating again. He was a man who lived by instinct. He felt hungry, so he ate.
Not a fool. Not a mindless brute. Hela finally had the answer she was looking for. It was Marshall's initial life that turned him into such a simple being. Alone, living for so long while being a Midgardian. That shaped him.
At last, Hela grabbed the spoon and took a bite from the plate. The dishes were all new to her.
"How is it?" Marshall asked her.
"New and… delectable."
"I freakin' knew it!" Marshall barked. "Dragged in some snobby baguette flippers from France and pasta slingers from Italy to whip this up."
Hela understood him now. What Marshall meant was that he kidnapped the men from foreign lands and made them cook for him. But it was a gesture she rather liked. She understood the sincerity of this date at last.
It was well thought out. That meant Marshall had to face those voices in his head to make plans for her. That meant a lot.
She tasted something from every dish, smiling each time and reacting, making sure he knew that she liked it.
"Oh, that's a cheesecake. I grabbed a guy from New York for it." Marshall proudly pointed at the dessert. "It's damn yummy. Marty would love it."
Hela smiled more. She'd heard Marshall take Marty's name more than anything else. Perhaps the sweet big lizard was akin to a nexus Marshall used to connect to his past. Marty was no different from his own limb, she reckoned.
"Marshall…"
"Hm?" Marshall looked up at her, his face stuffed with cheesecake, his second one.
Hela had put the spoon down. Her green eyes were solely focused on the man, her lips curved. "I won't leave."
"Huh? You were leaving?"
Creak!
Hela stood up again, walked around the table to Marshall's side. She grabbed his collar and pulled him to his feet. Both her hands slithered to his neck, spread over his jawline.
"You're my brute now, Marshall."
"Wha—Um~"
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