The Antics of a Super-Villain

"Why are you up to these... these antics?"

"Is that what you're gonna go for? Antics? Sweetheart, I don't do antics." He said huskily, as if he'd just recently gotten out of bed. Maybe he had though, I thought silently, my eyes scrutinizing him for a five'o'clock shadow despite most of his face being covered by a mask. Super-villains have to sleep too despite their status of being supposedly invincible Supers.

"Then what do you do?" I muttered, crossing my arms in front of me as if they were a sufficient shield for whatever the Super could potentially dish out. I noticed how his lips twitched in amusement before a devilish grin appeared, and I immediately regretted asking that. Oh boy.

Instead of saying anything, the Super-villain took a step forward, in which my brain should've told me to run, but instead I stood rooted to the spot. For some reason, I didn't feel scared. That, or his intense gaze that was currently staring me down was the cause of my fight-or-flight senses shutting down.

"Now that's playing a dangerous game, Decker, and I'm sure you're not going to win it."