Disney Villains Ward

Chapter 1: Disney Villains Ward

DVW

Ch1

Few people know of it, fewer have seen it, and even less than that believe it's even remotely possible. These are the "monsters hiding under your bed," the ones that "mothers tell their children about at night." And they're all locked up and stored in one place: The DVW. A.k.a.: the Disney Villains Ward. Cooped up, each in their separate cells (for their safety, yes, but mostly for the safety of society), they live each day in never ending resentment. Not at the thought of what they've done, no. In recollection of those pesky little "heroes," as the stories would have them labeled.

Everyone, even the ones considered most vile are let out from time to time. There are meals. With good behavior, they have supervised visits to social occasions (i.e. prisoner's lounge, visitors). There's even the occasional therapist visit. And then there are the movies. That is a truly dreaded time. Every time a child (or adult, for that matter) wants to re-watch their favorite Disney movie, these people, monsters, gods, machines, animals, and all other forms of life that are stored here are hauled out to relive the experiences that put them in this tormenting place, alongside those "heroes" that just got in the way of a neatly crafted plan. Seriously though, it's not like anyone died! Well, okay, some characters died. But what would these favorite stories be without a death here and there? What would these stories be without the residents of the DVW?

"...Nothing! That's what! And, something else..."

"Ursula, dear, I fear you seem to be going on a rant again," Hades noted.

"I don't need that bull from you, Hades. I get enough of it from this therapist of mine. 'Why don't you try channeling that angry energy that you use when you speak into something creative? Perhaps writing,''' she mocked. "Yeah, right. If I write anything it'll be a book about what a dump they're keeping us locked up in." And as her usual finale, Ursula puckered her lips and lathered on her crappy, prison issued lip balm to add just enough sass to yet another one of her rants.

Captain James B. Hook, who had been sitting quietly, looking through the "battle strategies" he could play with his cards, piped up: "I'd give her some creative words, all right. Give her enough creative words to think about for a long while."

"And that's why you're in here, Hook," Hades said, very unamused. "Because you like to torment that which you lack: a human soul."

"Look who's talking..." mumbled Ursula.

"Say what you will," Hades retorted. "But just remember that good behavior does help in living situations in this Zeus-forsaken h--"

"Wait just a tick-tocking second! I don't have a human soul? I have more of a soul than that elf-eared brat that got me thrown into this mess! I--" 

As the tone of his voice started to rise and as he slammed the stub of his arm on the table, Hook seemingly disappeared into the shadows that loomed over the room. Disney magic is applied even here at the DVW, especially when a character becomes too rambunctious. Good behavior will grant you supervised time outside of your cell for various activities (in this case, a poker game), but one slip-up will have you disappearing into thin air and reappearing into your newly triple-locked cell. At least until you calm down. 

Hades peeked at the captain's cards, which were, at that point, scattered about the floor. "The guy had four aces. I fold."

"Me too," Ursula grunted, hauling her enormous body, one tentacle at a time, away from the table.

"What about you, Jaf?" she questioned Jafar. "You haven't even spoken a word the whole last round."

"First of all, I would like to request, yet again, that you call me by my given name--Jafar. Second, I'd like to show you my pair of twos." The smooth hands of a Sultan's second-in-command spread his cards across the table, along with a devilish smile, that only he could pull off. Jafar collected each and every one of his winnings:  used lip balm from someone who hates it, a shoelace from someone who doesn't wear shoes, and, strangest of all, a wooden hand from someone who misses his hook. Not much, but everything is something here. "And if you truly want to know the reason behind my absence from the conversation, it was because I was studying your movements to see which of your nervous habits showed up while you were paying attention to your friends and not your body language." Still Smiling.