True Villain

The True Villain

The hero jolted awake as the screams of the girl still echoed in his ears. He stumbled out of the armchair and into the bathroom. What he saw in the mirror was a complete wreck. The zombie staring back at him had bruises under his eyes from lack of sleep, his hair was no longer perfect or gelled back, instead it was slicked back with sweat. His muscles ached from not moving from his spot on the chair for more than a few days.

'What am I going to do?' he thought to himself. Flashes of the dark, state room haunted his dreams, occupying his thoughts, clattering his brain with nothing but the hollow laughs and the demonic chants that fell from the girl's mouth.

He started as the phone across the room rang its shrill cry. He staggered towards it.

"What?" He choked out, his voice hoarse.

"It's me." The voice replied. "Please... there are so many people who need you..." The voice was hesitant, like it was talking to a frightened animal. "Just, just hear me out-"

"No!" He barked back and slammed the phone back into its place.

'No, no, no, no, no' he repeated in his head as the phone rang again. 'I'm not going, they know I won't do it, they're wasting their time. Just give up'

... give up, give up, give up.

"GIVE UP!" He shouted into the dark room. The words echoed in his head, sounding more and more like that vile, evil man.

"You can never save her." A disembodied voice taunted from all the corners of the large, empty room. "Give up."

"No! I will never! Show yourself and fight me like you said you would, don't hide away like a coward!" He shouted into the darkness. He surveyed his surroundings, how could he be so stupid? He could hardly see a few meters in front of him.

"Give up." The voice repeated, and repeated. "Give up!"

Then, out of the shadows, there she was... his little girl.

"Charlotte." He bolted to her. But hesitated as he saw the look on her face. A look of complete, utter hatred. "No." He whispered as it dawned on him, that she was no longer in control. The brave hero took a step back as she began walking camly towards him.

"Give up." She whispered. "Give up!"

"She's mine now." The voice crackled in sadistic amusement.

The phone continued to ring, but he couldn't pick it up. It clicked to voicemail.

"Just listen." It was the same voice from before. "You are the bravest, most loyal and smartest hero out there. You're saved so many people. What's stopping you now?" The voice sighed. "You've sacrificed so much... what's stopping you now?"

'You don't know anything about me', he sheathed in anger. 'I've sacrificed too much.'

My little girl, He finally cracked. His award smile broke, his strong build sagged into the chair, and his brave, booming cried out.

He cried out. "Give her back! I'm the hero of the city, I've defeated much worse enemies than you!" He shouted looking for a way to get out. "What makes you different?"

"Ah you see," The voice crackles, "I know you... and I know who you really are." He sang.

I couldn't save her! He chanted in his head. Something broke in him, something changed.

Days where the sun shone down on him, a wave to the crowd and joyous praise, gave him no purpose. He no longer searched for the warm light, the hazy cloud of confusion, loneliness and fear was all he saw. The cheers turned to screams as all around him, he noticed one by one, each and everyone of those around him, broken, twisted and scared. Nothing but sorrow and heartache as his eyes opened up to the cruel reality of life. He lived for the praise and honour, only to find skepticism and hate. As he thought back on the good days, he scolded himself when he failed to notice the jeers and mocking laughter. Wherever he went, he remembered seeing, hearing and feeling the disdain radiating off from the dark alleys or small buildings. Always, someone was there, someone was watching, judging and criticizing. Not just him, but the world they lived in.

He re-lived the sneers and fowl words, he re-lived every single person who dared to stand up to him, destroying his city in the process, and as they were taken away, they always seemed to find that moment to revel in their superierness, degrading him and his efforts like they weren't the ones who lost. And in those memories, he saw truth in their words, for the first time, He saw truth in suffering, in inflicting pain on those who deserved it. After all, he has sacrificed too much. Too, too much.

"No one will come to save you." He whispered, thinking only of the disembodied voice.

As a sly grin planted itself on the man's face, a hysterical laugh escaped his mouth, and he didn't stop the angry, murderous thoughts from flowing into his head.