The Day of the Dead Villain: The Witchdoctor

Chapter Sixteen: Pride

        "Hello, there, little lamb," a silky male voice greeted slyly. I dropped my case, grabbing the arm connected to one of the hands that covered my mouth. I threw the person over my shoulder, but they gracefully flipped around to their and slightly slid across the floor. "My, my, that's no way to greet your mentor."

        The voice belonged to a man with slicked back chocolate brown hair. His eye were colored amethyst and they danced with nothing but mockery. No, not exactly mockery, but something close. He dressed fancily, with a vest that matched his eyes over a button-up and black slacks. For an average person, he was beyond attractive. "I assume your Quintessential."

        "You assume correctly, Witchdoctor," he affirmed. I narrow my eyes, tensing my body in case there is need for fighting. "Relax. I knew who you were long before you ever showed up in UA. Hell, I knew you existed long before you made it big-time. Granted, being me, it's no surprise I know who you are; you're the Revolutionaries' little brat. My, how you've grown since the last time I saw you."

        "Wait, you know the Revolutionaries? We've met before?"

        "One question at a time, kid, or you might get confused," he lightly chided, walking down the hall and gesturing me to follow him. I did as he asked, and he continued to ramble. "While I'm not personally connected to them, I do know the Revolutionaries exist and what they exist for. I've only met a few of the members, one being your leader. Tell her she really needs to get a better hairstyle. As for you, no, we've never formally met. I only witnessed you during a very important meeting between all the powers of Le Mort. You really seemed to be the apple of everyone's eye. You didn't really strike me as all that impressive, though."

        I frown at his little demeaning comments. "If you're from Le Mort, then why exactly are you playing hero in the realm of the living?" We entered another room. Unlike every other room, this one had furniture, but not much. A tall leather chair stood over by the window, and a small wooden table stood next to it. On the table was a bell made out of a special metal from Le Mort, and beautiful pictures were carved on it.

        "I could ask you the same thing," the brown-haired man states, sitting down in his chair. "But, if you must know, I came here because the position I was in didn't exactly suit me. My colleagues were far beneath me, and my mark of ruling was far lower than a person like me should be at. So, I came up here and made a living as a hero, one of the most worshipped people here - asides from God, that is."

        A lightbulb went off in my brain, and I couldn't feel more sour. "Let me guess; you're Pride, one of the Fourteen Deadly Sins."

        "The one and only," he states with a grin. "However, that's what the petty call me. I personally prefer the name Sanduel, Alexei. Of course, you can always call me by my hero name."

        "Alright, then, Alexei-"

        "Sanduel," Pride interrupted. "You will respect me, and if you call me by my name, it shall be my last name like a normal, respectful person would." A took a deep breath, trying not to smack this guy back to Le Mort.

        "Alright, then, Sanduel, why exactly did you draft me? Is it because I'm part of the Revolutionaries?"

        "Goodness, no," Pride said, chuckling. "I refuse to take a side in this little 'war' of yours. I wanted you because of what you are." I scrunch my nose. What's he getting at? "You're a ghoul, the strongest creature in both Le Mort and the living world - when fully grown, of course."

        "So, you're using me for power," I summarized.

        "Not exactly; I already have the power I need," he bragged. "I drafted you because of your conscious." I raised an eyebrow in confusion. He caught on, and began to further explain. "I assume the lunatics in the Revolutionaries taught you the basics of the human body and what happens when they go to Le Mort."