Hela saw Asgard sprawled before her in all of its golden glory and it brought a smile to her face.
The janitor, or whatever it was he called himself, stood behind her.
She could practically smell the fear that emanated from his perspiring skin.
“Ah darling,” she trilled. “It’s beautiful.”
Her eyes closed as she felt the warmth of her immense strength returning to her ice cold veins.
“Yes it is, madam,” the frightened man said.
Her eyes opened. In her self-absorbed glee to be back home, she had almost forgotten about the man. She looked back at him.
To make things simpler she could kill him. It would be so easy too. Just a simple thrust of a dagger into his heart and he would become a forgotten speck in her massive reservoir of deaths. But there was something about him that intrigued her. Maybe he reminded her of herself at a younger time in her life, without the cowardliness of course.
So, instead of ending his miserable life where he stood, she smiled.
“Come,” she turned her attention back to Asgard, “it’s time to let everyone know that their queen has returned.”