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Loki lay on his bed and stared blearily out the window at the towering buildings of New York. He moved and sighed, resting his head on his folded arms.
Thor left him in the care of Doctor Strange while he took the Asgardian refugees to Norway. Left him. Like he was a child in need of a babysitter. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't he go and help? The people on the ship were just as much his people as they were Thor’s. He thought he was part of the team now. After all, he helped Thor on both Sakaar and during the battle with Hela. In fact, they wouldn’t have won the battle with Hela if it wasn’t for him. Didn’t that mean he was trustworthy enough?
Thor explained to Strange that he had enough to deal with and think about without having to worry if Loki was going to sneak off somewhere. Loki wasn’t sure if he should be offended over that or not.
Either way, the end result is that he was now stuck inside Strange’s stuffy old house—Sanctum Sanctorum as it was called. He hadn’t been here a day and already he was bored. The most excitement he had so far in this place was finding that the top sheet on the bed was really a ghost that flew away into one of the walls when he grabbed hold of it. Needless to say, he hadn’t expected that.
Loki rolled over on his back and peered up at the ceiling. Then his eyes wandered around the room that Strange provided for him. It wasn’t that bad of a place, he admitted. It was old and overflowing with relics and antiques. Not that he cared. He hadn’t seen anything that would be of use to him. Mostly just human junk as far as he was concerned. Like the rhinoceros statue in the corner. Really, who keeps something like that in their house? Loki’s brow scrunched down as he studied the awful thing. He turned his gaze up to the grotesque face hanging over the bed. Then to the display of spears across the room. There was no order to the décor. Just random items placed here and there, giving the impression that the house was either a museum or a storage place for eyesore souvenirs. In a way, it reminded him of Odin’s trophy vault on Asgard.
He knew one thing, though. He wanted out. He wanted to join Thor in Norway. But could he get out of the house without Strange knowing? It should be a simple task of just walking downstairs and out the front door. But how would he get to Norway? He didn’t have Midgard currency, and the Bifrost was gone. Maybe there was something in the house he could use to open a portal. He still had his magic after all, even if Strange did put a spell on him to keep him from teleporting.
Loki swung his feet over the side of the bed and stood. He glanced at the face over the bed again, giving it a wary glare. Something about it unnerved him like it was somehow watching him. But that was silly, wasn’t it? It was just a carved stone face that was flat on one side. Just to be safe, though, he made a mental note to remove it and put it in the bottom of the closet before going to sleep.
He took off his cape and laid it across the bed. He felt better without the extra weight to carry around. Hopefully, a ghost wouldn’t take it away while he was gone…
After taking a few minutes to study the spear display, Loki wandered out of his room and down the hallway. He walked a small piece before coming to a stop, keeping his eyes forward. Directly in front of him, at the other end, hovered Strange’s cloak, looking for all the world like it was haunted. It was something Loki still hadn’t gotten used to. It both amused and bewildered him. Granted, he had seen a lot of things in his lifetime, but nothing like this. For one thing, it was a piece of cloth—an article of clothing. It shouldn’t be alive, but here it was. Oh, yeah, sure, it was a magical artifact, he understood that. Loki was familiar with a lot of magical artifacts. He even owned a few. But none of them were alive. He wasn’t sure how to address this oddity. Could it hear and understand? Was it supposed to be male or female? Did it breathe air? Did it feel pain? Could it think and reason?
The cloak saw Loki. If ‘saw’ is the right word to use. Loki also wasn’t sure how it could see, but it did, apparently. The cloak went ridged, allowing itself to collapse and fall in a straight line. Then it flew toward him and stopped a few feet away, blocking his way. It flared out, filling up the whole hall like some sort of large exotic fish.
Loki held up his hands and took a step back. He wasn’t sure what the cloak meant to do, but he was wary of this new phenomenon.
“No funny business,” he said in his soft-spoken voice. “I mean no harm.”
The cloak rippled and rolled its folds as if pondering this. Suddenly, it jerked forward and wrapped itself around Loki, making it feel like he was in the coils of a large snake. The trickster gasped and backpedaled. The cloak rubbed itself around his face and in his hair as if brushing cheeks with him. If the cloak was capable of any kind of speech, Loki was almost positive it would be purring.
“Okay, okay, I’m glad to see you too,” Loki patted the cloak. He wasn’t sure how to approach it. Talk to it like a pet or a child?
It continued to rub itself around his face, positioning itself to drape around his shoulders and wrap itself tighter around him. It caressed him gently and played with his hair with makeshift hands. By now, Loki had moved into feeling awkward and uncomfortable. At the same time, however, a part of him was enjoying this strange new attention. He forced a smile and a laugh.
“I guess long hair is new to you seeing that Strange doesn’t have it.”
The cloak sprang off him and floated in circles as if admiring him. It brushed his hair with one of its corners, touched him, and booped his nose. Loki just stood still and allowed it, seeing that the cloak wasn’t a threat. He stiffened when the cloak gave his butt a playful slap, then he smiled.
“Okay, I’m going to think of you as a female from now on.” He moved his hands behind him to shield against more flirtatious attacks. He waggled a finger at the cloak. “Shame on you. What will Strange think?”
The cloak flared out and placed a ‘hand’ over Loki’s mouth. Then it continued admiring him. By now, he was beginning to feel like the cloak saw him as a new toy—or a pet?—as it circled him yet again. When it finished, it came to rest on his shoulders, its collar snuggling up around his neck and face and brushing a corner against his cheek. Loki wasn’t sure what he should do, so he took a few steps forward. When he saw that this odd piece of clingy clothing wasn’t going to move, he proceeded to walk in this way down the hall.
Obviously, he couldn’t mention that he was looking for a way out. So instead he asked, “Do you know where the bathroom is?”
The cloak patted his stomach and pointed behind them.
Loki walked the short distance, led by the cloak until he stopped at a door partway down from his room.
“I’d like to go in alone, please,” he said to the cloak. Immediately, it obeyed, lifting off his shoulders to hover in place beside him.
When he was done, Loki returned to the hallway to see that the cloak was still hovering in front of the doorway, waiting for him. It came down and settled around his shoulders again.
It was okay at first, but Loki was beginning to see this piece of cloth as slightly annoying.
“Don’t you have someone else to wrap around?” he said. “Like Strange?”
In response, the cloak snuggled closer to his neck. A corner reached up to boop his nose playfully.
Loki sighed and walked down the hallway. How was he supposed to find a way out of the house when he had a witness draped around his shoulders?
He opened one of the doors on his left and looked inside. It was another bedroom. He walked in and surveyed the area. Everything about the room looked basically the same as the one Strange gave him, but the décor was slightly different. A tall marble statue of some Greek or Roman deity stood in one corner. A couple of display pedestals were positioned near one wall. On them sat some kind of artifacts. Loki walked closer to inspect them. There was an old leather-bound book and an animal horn. Nothing that could be used to make a portal.
“Strange has quite the collection,” Loki remarked. The cloak moved around on his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what it was trying to communicate, but he assumed the movement was its equivalent of nodding its head.
Loki turned his attention back to the book. He flipped through a few of the pages. It was a book of spells. Could be useful, but there was no way he could look for a portal spell with the cloak resting on his shoulders. He’d have to come back when he wasn’t being…watched. So he closed it and left the room.
He walked a little way down and opened another door. He gasped and drew back. Instead of a room, he was staring out across a barren desert. The heat from the bright sun scorched his face and made him pull back more. Although, he found it difficult to let go of the doorknob. He stalled in the doorway and peered out over the sand dunes, the hot breeze blowing his hair. He looked down, noting where the threshold separated the hallway from the sand inches from the toes of his boots. When he stepped back, he tracked some of the sand with him across the carpet.
“How?” he breathed out. He stepped forward again, sticking his head out. It was like the door just opened up in the middle of nowhere.
The cloak reached out and slapped his hand away and closed the door.
Loki continued to stand in awe, not fully understanding what just happened. Were some doors in the house portals? If that was the case, then maybe finding a way out was as easy as finding the right door. Perhaps there was even one that opened directly into Norway!
Quickly, Loki continued down the hall. He was feeling hopeful now. He opened another door and peeked inside an empty room lit only by the setting sun streaming in through a multicolored glass window. Something about it felt cozy and inviting, like a chapel.
Loki was about to close the door when something caught his eyes and made him open the door wider. Across the room was a pedestal. On it an urn of some sort.
His curiosity getting the best of him, Loki advanced into the room and approached it slowly. Just as he was about to pick it up, the cloak jerked him away, almost making him lose his footing. He caught himself and swung around, catching the cloak in his fist to keep from becoming wrapped up in its folds.
“Hey! Cut it out,” he said angrily. But the cloak tugged at his clothes and moved about frantically, attempting to move the trickster away from the urn. “What’s wrong with you? I just want to see what’s inside. I’m not going to break or steal it.”
Adjusting the cloak around his shoulders, he stepped forward again, stretching out a hand to pick up the urn.
“Ulp! Wha…??” Loki pulled his hand away in favor of pulling his pants back up, which the cloak pulled down in one swift motion. He wasn’t sure how it managed to do it seeing that he was wearing a belt. But somehow it happened. He quickly stepped away into one of the corners to dress himself. When he came back to the pedestal, he gave the cloak a hard glare. “Don’t ever do that again.” He turned an equal glare at the urn. It was now obvious to him the cloak didn’t want him touching it. And it made him all the more curious as to what was inside it.
He turned and left the room, the cloak following after him. When they were in the hall again, Loki backed up into the room and slammed the door shut, leaving the cloak in the hallway. He heard the cloak hit against the door when it realized what he’d done.
Grinning in satisfaction, Loki turned on his heel and walked over and picked up the urn. He took off the lid…and almost dropped the thing.
His eyes widened in horror, his mouth dropping open.
Immediately, a gruesome clawed hand poked out at him, grasping for whatever was within reach. No noise, just an ugly, green, clawed hand that could have belonged to a number of vile creatures. So why did it startle him so much? It was just a hand—an ugly old hand. He wanted to put the lid back on and put it back on the pedestal, but his mind was too stunned and focused on watching it move about as it continued its search for something to clasp.
Loki’s eyes widened even more when the hand finally found his arm and latched on tightly. His mouth worked. He dropped the lid and grabbed the hand to attempt pulling it away from him. He pried the fingers loose one by one and shoved it back into the urn. Shakily, he replaced the lid and slammed the horrid thing back onto the pedestal. He backed up slowly, breathing hard.
By now, the cloak was at his side. Loki glanced at it then back at the urn.
“I understand now why you didn’t want me opening it,” he said sullenly.
The cloak shook its neck and waggled a cloth finger at him in a scolding gesture.
Loki sighed at the action and allowed himself to be ushered out of the room. The door was closed again, and Loki continued on his way, the cloak settling on his shoulders.
This time, he was hesitant to open the next door. He took a moment to pull himself together, then pushed it open and stepped inside.
“Another bedroom,” he whispered. “How many bedrooms does he have?”
This bedroom was different. Unlike the others, it was decorated in something between Victorian and Chinese. A marbled fireplace filled one wall. And there were more artifacts on display in the corners and on shelves.
Without warning, the cloak left Loki’s shoulders and flew to a small, half-opened closet across from the bed. Here it squeezed through the crack and disappeared inside.
The action took Loki by surprise, but he had to remind himself that the cloak lived here. Apparently, there was a logical reason for it doing that. Ignoring it, Loki began to walk around the room, studying everything closely to see if he could find something to make a portal with.
There was a clothes horse, some chairs, a table, house shoes on the floor. This must be Strange’s bedroom, he thought.
Loki picked up another old book on a pedestal near the fireplace. He flipped open the clasp and thumbed through the pages. It was another spellbook.
Suddenly, the room’s door slammed closed with a bang. Loki snapped his head around. He put down the book and ran to the door. Grasping the doorknob, he turned and jiggled it, but it was locked. He squeezed it and pulled on it, but nothing changed. And there was no lock or keyhole on the doorknob.
“Hey!” he shouted. He slammed his palm against the door. “Hello? Strange? I seem to be locked in here.”
An echoic cough sounded within the room. Loki paused long enough to listen. He turned, but there was no one there. His eyes darted around, taking in every inch and every corner. But he was alone.
“Hello?” he said cautiously. Was it the cloak? He tilted his head to peek inside the closet.
Another cough.
Loki pushed himself against the door, his heart racing. With a flick of his wrist, a dagger appeared in his hand. The second cough seemed to echo around the room like it was coming from the walls—or within the walls.
“Is someone here?” he said. “Cloak?”
With a fwoosh, the fireplace lit itself. Loki jumped back, holding out his dagger, expecting to see someone there. But there was no one to be seen. His eyes widened as he watched two chairs and a table move across the floor and position themselves neatly in front of the fireplace.
Magic? Loki sighed and straightened, lowering his dagger and putting it away. It had to be Strange playing a joke.
“Very funny, Strange,” he called out. “You think this is going to scare me? I’m also a magic-user.”
He smirked. He waved his hand and moved one of the chairs against the wall.
But it didn’t stay there. Immediately, it moved back to its spot in front of the fireplace.
Loki walked closer, this time moving both chairs away from the table with both hands. But they moved right back.
He sighed and rolled his eyes up to look at the ceiling. “Strange, you can let me out now.”
As he stared forward at the mirror over the mantel, he noticed that it rippled—a gentle shiver that ran across the reflective surface. He fixed his eyes on it and watched curiously as it rippled faster like water disturbed by a stone. Then a ghost appeared. A different ghost from the one he discovered sleeping on his bed. This one was teal green instead of white. No legs. Just a floating bulbous body that tapered into a thin tail at the back. Its head was covered in a hood. No facial features that he could see. Just a black void where the face should have been.
Loki wasn’t sure if he should pull out his dagger again or not. Not that it would be much use against a transparent spirit. He watched as it floated down and hovered over the table in front of him. It stretched out a hand and pulled something from thin air—a flat, rectangle-shaped wood box with red and black squares all over it. The ghost offered it to Loki. The trickster glanced at it then looked at the ghost, not sure what it was offering him.
“Play checkers with Ooloo?” the ghost asked in an airy, echoic voice as he pointed a long slender finger toward one of the chairs. The question was innocent, almost childlike.
Loki lifted an eyebrow at the odd request. Really? Was that all? It wasn’t exactly something he would expect a ghost to ask.
Loki shook his head. “No. No, thanks.”
Truth was, Loki wanted to play. He could never resist a game. But he had to keep his mind focused on finding a way out. Still…he continued eyeing the box in front of him.
The specter didn’t move as he kept the box extended. “You no like Ooloo?”
Loki noticed the voice sounded sad—hurt even. He wasn’t sure what he should say next. Was this ghost friendly or aggressive? So far, he seemed friendly enough, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t turn aggressive if he was denied a game of checkers.
The trickster licked his lips, choosing his next words wisely. “No! I like you very much. You seem like a friendly ghost. But, I can’t play checkers. Not now. I need to get out of here. Was it you who locked me in here?”
Again, Ooloo remained silent and still for a few minutes as if he was slowly processing Loki’s words. Finally, he lowered the checker box. “You no play with Ooloo. You no like Ooloo. Ooloo sad.”
Loki splayed his hands, about to say something when he felt an invisible punch to his stomach. It knocked him back against the bed, the breath ejected from him like a deflating balloon.
“Unnngh,” he groaned as he struggled to lift himself up. He blinked, trying to regain his focus. What happened? Wincing, he held his ribs.
The belt from Strange’s housecoat whipped through the air like a flying snake and wrapped itself around Loki’s arms, tying them together to the bedpost.
“Hey!” he said indignantly. “Wha—what are you doing?” He pulled, but the sash was tied tight. If only he could get one of his daggers out.
“You no like Ooloo,” said Ooloo. “Ooloo get angry.”
Loki’s mouth worked silently as he struggled to find words. What was the ghost planning to do?
The sound of heavy metal scraping met his ears and caused him to look forward, past the ghost. One of the fire-irons lifted out of their holder—the poker.
Loki’s jaw dropped as his eyes fixed on the sharp end. He looked between it and the ghost.
“N—n—now wait a minute!”
Loki felt a breeze as something heavy flew past him. He jumped and winced, scrunching up his face. When he realized that whatever it had been missed him, he opened up his eyes and looked. The poker was stuck in the floor like a harpoon.
Loki’s mouth dropped open again, his eyes bulging. As he stared, the poker lifted itself into the air to hover close to his head.
The trickster was about to cry out when a flash of red flew over him and toward the ghost. It was then that he realized it was the cloak. It flared out and bobbed up and down, trying to get the ghost’s attention.
“Cloak!” Ooloo said happily. Immediately, the poker fell heavily beside Loki on the bed. He glanced at it and sighed in relief.
The cloak flew to Loki then back to the ghost, all the time making odd gestures in its own sign language.
“Him Cloak’s friend?”
The cloak nodded its neck.
“Him bad. He no play checkers with Ooloo.”
The cloak patted the ghost’s shoulder then flew over to Loki and untied his hands.
“Thank you,” Loki muttered. He stood up and rubbed his wrists. The cloak pointed at the ghost.
“What?”
The cloak pointed at the ghost again.
“No, I will not play checkers,” he whispered. The cloak made a gesture of putting its hands on its hips. Then it pointed to the door and back to the ghost.
Loki struggled to understand what it was saying. “If I don’t…play…checkers, then I can’t leave the room?”
The cloak gave a curt nod of its neck.
Loki rolled his eyes. “This is so stupid.”
The cloak grabbed Loki by the arm and pulled him to one of the chairs and forced him to sit.
“Okay! I’ll play checkers with you,” he finally gave in. “But just one game.”
Ooloo clapped his hands as he bounced up and down. “Oh, goodie! You like Ooloo after all!”
Loki suppressed another eye roll. He watched as the ghost unfolded his checkerboard and set up the pieces on the table between them.
The cloak settled itself around Loki’s shoulders and snuggled around his neck.
Loki sighed. What had he gotten himself into? All he wanted was to get out of this madhouse and find Thor. He never wanted to become friends with a floating blanket and a halfwit ghost.
“Yet, here I am…” Loki breathed out.
“What?” Ooloo said.
Loki smiled up at the specter. “So, your name is Ooloo?”
“Yah! Name Ooloo.”
“I’m Loki.”
“Loki! Loki is Cloak’s friend. Loki is Ooloo’s friend too. Now we play checkers!”
For the next hour, Loki played two games of checkers. He would never admit it, but he enjoyed every moment of it. Even though Ooloo wasn’t much for conversation and neither was the cloak, he still enjoyed the opportunity to work his mind. He soon found that the ghost wasn’t a bad player. In fact, he was a very good player. Although, it was annoying that the cloak sometimes tried telling him which move to make. He knew how to play checkers. He didn’t need an enchanted cloak telling him how to move his pieces.
Loki was about to move one of his game pieces when the cloak patted him…again. He sighed and brushed away the cloak’s hand.
“Stop it. I know what I’m doing,” Loki whispered. He reached out to take his piece, then he stiffened when he felt the cloak tugging on the back of his pants. “What are you doing?”
Ooloo looked up. “What wrong?”
Loki pulled the cloak away from his bottom, and he turned back to the game board. He cleared his throat. “Nothing. Cloak got hung on…something.” He frowned, his cheeks flushing red. He decided against moving the intended game piece and picked up another one carefully. When he saw he wasn’t going to get opposition from the cloak, he moved it to a new square.
At that moment, the door opened and in walked Strange. He stopped partway when he saw Loki and Ooloo.
“I was wondering what happened to you,” said Strange.
“I can explain,” said Loki, getting out of his chair.
Strange held up a hand. “No need to get up. You look comfortable. I see you’ve met Ooloo.”
“Who is this?” Loki asked, waving a hand toward the ghost. “He won’t let me leave until I play checkers.”
Strange chuckled. “It’s Ooloo. One of the resident ghosts. He came through a dimension gate quite by accident out of curiosity. Liked it so much here that he wouldn’t go back. I didn’t have the heart to force him, so he’s lived here ever since. Harmless as a kitten and loves to play games.”
“Harmless?” Loki forced a laugh. “He tied me to the bedpost and hurled a poker at me when I refused to play. He would have speared my head with it if it hadn’t been for your cloak stopping him.”
“Well, mostly harmless,” Strange corrected. “He does have questionable ways of persuading someone to play with him.” He turned to Ooloo. “Shame on you, Ooloo. We don’t tie people to bedposts and throw pokers at them.”
The ghost shrank back. “Ooloo sorry. Ooloo won’t do again.”
“See that you don’t.” Strange stepped to the side and gestured at the door.
Loki was undecided about whether to leave or not. After all, he did enjoy playing checkers with the ghost. Finally, he made up his mind. He said goodbye to Ooloo and walked out, followed closely by Strange, who shut the door behind them.
“Thanks,” Loki said softly.
“Ooloo means well,” said Strange. “But sometimes he doesn’t know when to stop.”
The cloak wrapped itself tighter around Loki and squeezed him. Did it just hug him? Loki gave it a puzzled glance.
A faint smile creased Strange’s lips. “And I also see that my cloak has found a new friend.”
Loki scowled. “Is there a way to get it off?”
Strange’s smile widened. “No. If it likes you it likes you.” He decided against adding that the cloak would be good at keeping an eye on Loki to make sure he kept out of trouble. He could tell the trickster was already irritated enough.
“You don’t mind me wearing it?”
“Not at all.” Strange walked forward. “Come and have dinner with me in the dining room. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
Loki watched for a minute until Strange disappeared around the corner. He felt the cloak move on him, then urge him forward.
“I’m going, I’m going.” Loki sighed and smiled. Maybe his stay at the sanctorum wouldn’t be so bad after all.
-The End