Oh, Calamity!

"The Bad Guy"

"Let me in."

Suddenly the door opened to reveal a distressed King. His blue eyes were rimmed with red, and his crown and red, fur-lined coat had long since been shed. His blonde hair stuck up in several places, as if he had been pulling on it, and he had damp lines streaming down his cheeks.

"Why did you leave?" she said, tilting her head to the side. The King chuckled and looked down.

"I was-um...tired,"

"Bullshit. Why are you crying this time?" she asked, stepping over the threshold. Ryan laughed and walked to his large window. He put his hand on the ice-cold glass.

"Do you...ever wonder if you're not who you think you are? As if the kind of person you think you are...isn't really the person you actually are?" With a scoff, Sam looked down.

"All the time,"

"But you never seem like you do. I, on the other hand, can't seem to figure out exactly...what I am? I'm not your average person, you know?"

"Do you believe yourself to be...superior than the average person?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. Ryan scoffed.

"Doesn't everyone? It's part of our human nature to think of ourselves as...greater than all of the others. But me? With me, there is something else. Another, darker side of me-"

"Darker? Is that even possible?"

"Let me finish. Yes, darker. And stronger, too. It sometimes...takes over my normal persona. And it turns me into a demonic monster. Guess why they call me the Mad King? Because all I begin to care about is being King. And killing everyone that gets in my way. I was never supposed to be like this. The others. They took me in. Cared for me as if I was one of their own. And look what happened? I became something that they would regret forever. Something they never expected. The Mad King. Killer, sadist, madman...the bad guy."

"But...you're not all that bad," she said softly as she walked to the King and placed a hand on his shoulder. The man winced and, in a swift motion, grabbed her and pinned her down on the windowsill.

"You don't know what I've done! How much I've killed! How much blood stains this lonely world or these cold halls. And all of it...all of it was caused by me! Done by MY 'royal' hands!" he shouted. Sam, taken off guard, opened her formerly closed eyes. He sought fear in her brown eyes, but all that showed was a warm look of hope and empathy.

"That was the Mad King," she spoke, staring into his deep-blue eyes, "and right now, you're not him. You're a better man. You're...Ryan," she said. He tilted his head and stood up quickly, turning away from her.

She called me Ryan. It sounds so...lovely coming from her lips. Almost...lovelier than calling me King or Your Majesty or My Liege...

Sam stood and ran a hand through her brown hair. She sighed as she saw Ryan's back facing her.

"Hey, come here. I want to show you something," and she grabbed his hand to lead him down the stairs. Sam expected the party to continue, but the ballroom had long since been emptied. All that was left now was the jukebox left alone in the corner.

"I guess everyone left?" Ryan asked, looking around the room. With a small giggle, the girl walked to the middle of the dance floor. She motioned for the man to walk towards her. He narrowed his eyes and walked carefully to her.

"I'm going to show you how to dance," she said, inching closer.

"B-but I don't dance," he looked down at Sam.

"You don't KNOW how to dance. That's why you don't dance," she giggled. He chuckled.

"What makes you think I can't dance?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Cos I know, Haywood," Sam giggled, "just follow my lead." And she began to sing.