Origin Story

Origin Story-- Part 1

The villain stalks over to where the fallen hero lies. He kneels next to her, checking her wrist for a pulse. A faint rhythm beats up against his fingers. 'Good' he thinks, 'she's still alive'. The villain picks the hero up. He grunts, heaving her over a shoulder. Glancing at the rubble heaped beside them, he shakes his head sadly.

Remembering the urgency of the situation, he begins to pick up the pace. He makes it back to their flat in mere minutes. Laying the hero down on the leftmost of the two beds, he leaves to grab first aid supplies. He returns, clutching numerous bandages and ointments. She twitches as he begins to patch her up. This gives the villain hope. He knows that he cannot lose her. Not after all that has happened.

They had met years before, the day that the previous reigning hero of Greenhill City had been murdered at the hand of the villain. The villain hadn't considered himself evil then, believing his intentions were virtuous. He was ridding the city of someone who was clearly doing more harm than good. He didn't have a tragic backstory, he'd just witnessed that cocky know-it-all of a hero destroy one too many buildings full of innocent lives. It hadn't even occurred to him that killing a man in cold blood, especially one beloved by the people, would cast him in a villainous light.

It had been easy, a few drops of Botulinum toxin in his water, and the previous hero had ceased breathing almost immediately. She, not yet a hero, had been watching from the doorway, silently. The villain had checked the pulse of her mentor before vanishing into the night. She'd followed him, and had confronted him barely a half hour later. The newly established hero had looked fairly menacing to him back then, as she glowed in the moonlight. Seeming closer to an immortal than someone made of flesh and blood.

She didn't harm him. Her lack of action had surprised the villain. He'd assumed that the apprentice would be similar to the master. Instead, she'd acted as a true hero, and given him the chance to speak for himself. The villain could've killed her too. He could've become the 'bad guy' people would soon think of him as. He had reached for his weapon, but then saw the desperation in her eyes for answers. The villain knew that desperation. He knew how much it could hurt. His hand changed paths, instead coming to rest in his pocket. He shifted his weight, trying to make the action seem natural, and moved his foot forward. He'd changed his mind. He decided to give in, to talk. He'd never been very good at speaking, believing everyone against him. But, something about this strange warrior compelled him to trust her.

As the villain moved towards her, the new hero made the same decision the villain had in the moments prior. To voice her opinion. She sensed that he would listen to her words. The hero had felt lonely for years. She'd had to lie to everyone in her life about her true identity, and many of her friends and family had sensed the distance growing with each visit. They'd eventually stopped trying, thinking that she'd tired of them, having no idea why the ever-growing chasm had truly developed. The villain, standing there, alone in the shadows wore a tired look. A look of loneliness. She knew that expression. She'd seen it every day in the mirror.

Standing in the tree-dappled moonlight, they spoke as equals. Neither showing judgement, and both looking at each other with no hostility. The sort of conversation that rarely graces this world. They'd become fast friends after that, both feeling more in need of someone than either would care to admit. They'd begun plotting battles ahead of time, giving the city a hero and villain story, but never hurting anyone or each other. They'd been content in their routine, but today, an unexpected felon from another city had 'business' in Greenhill, wreaking havoc. They'd been unprepared.

"Talk to me you pathetic heap" the villain commands, his voice cracking. He's trying to clean up her wounds as best as he can, but there's blood everywhere, and he still can't find the cause. He can tell that the hero is staying alive on pure willpower. The villain runs his fingers over her, trying to find an obvious cut or gash, but there is none. He checks her pulse again. It's slowing. He frantically begins looking her over again, and again to no avail. "Please don't die, I promise I'll always let you have the last slice of pizza, I won't ever be sarcastic, I'll be better, I..." He trails off, watching as her chest stops moving. The villain places his fingers on her wrist. Nothing. He feels a sense of loss, of uncertainty, that he hasn't felt before. It feels infinite and deep. Untouchable. In a haze of disbelief, the villain doesn't know very much right now, but he does know one thing. Whoever did this to his hero is going to pay.