Writing Snippet #31
The hero woke up with a start. Even after being knocked out the dreams didn’t give her any release. It was the same one every night. One memory that ruined her life.
The day she got her powers.
It was kind of fitting, considering the fact that the creator of that memory was sitting right in front of her.
“Nightmare?”
The hero took a minute to clear her vision. It was a dark room, cameras in every corner, the villain sitting leisurely on a metal chair. She wondered how long he had been sitting there. And how long she had been out. It had taken nothing short of a small army to take her down. The villain must have been really determined this time, he was usually more subtle than that.
He raised his eyebrows, still waiting for an answer.
She sighed. “Bad memories.”
“I think I would know what you’re talking about.” The villain stood up. “You know it’s nice seeing you like this. You’re finally showing a little bit of gratitude.”
The hero looked down and realized the position she was in. Chained down on her knees. Of course.
“It’s nice knowing I can help you with your ego trips,” the hero said. She tugged on one of the chains and cried out when an electric shock coursed through her.
“Yeah I forgot to mention that would happen.” The villain smiled. “Of course any normal person would have died with that many volts, but you’re anything but normal, aren’t you?”
The hero grit her teeth. “Why am I here?”
The villain shrugged. “Why would I trap a pest in my house?”
The hero scoffed. “Don’t act like you’re going to kill me. You need me, remember?”
“That’s not true,” the villain said. “I need some DNA, maybe a few pints of your blood, but I don’t need you.”
He lingered on the word ‘you’ like it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
She swallowed. “Then why am I still alive?”
The villain crouched down, close enough that the hero could feel his breath on her face. “Because against my better judgement I have decided to give you another chance.”
Here we go.
“Why would you give a pest another chance?”
The villain’s jaw ticked. “Don’t forget who gave you these powers.”
“On accident,” the hero clarified. “And besides, how could I forget? You keep reminding me.”
“And you keep throwing it back in my face,” the villain shot back. He stood and started slowly circling the hero. “Do you want to know what we call you around here?”
“Beautiful and genius come to mind.”
The villain stopped circling. “And you think I’m the one that needs the ego boost.” He shook his head. “You’re a traitor [Hero]. An ungrateful child.”
The hero broke eye contact. “You used me. You wanted me to hurt people.”
“And you were willing to for a while,” the villain said. “I gave you everything.” His eyes darkened and his voice dropped low. She knew him well enough by now to know that when he was angry his voice didn’t rise, it went quieter. “And how did you repay me?” He asked.
“By getting some morals.”
“Morals.” The villain repeated softer. “And what has that gotten you? A life lived in fear. I could give you so much more.”
“I don’t really think I want a collar or a leash, but I’ll get back to you on that.”
The villain’s hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of the hero’s hair. She cried out. “Need I remind you what precarious situation you are in,” he growled. “Despite how confident you are, no, I don’t need you. An autopsy would give me all I need to figure out what happened with you.”
The hero’s jaw clenched.
“And with your powers I’m sure you would stay alive for a long time. Feeling every bit of it. Is that what you want?”
The hero slowly shook her head.
The villain released her hair, throwing her head aside as he did so. “You should be thanking me. You wouldn’t be a hero without my work.”
“Maybe I didn’t want to be a hero.”
The villain’s eyebrows raised slightly, almost imperceptible. He was surprised. But he didn’t say anything. He just examined her with those cold eyes.
She matched his cold stare, all filled with spite. No, she didn’t ask to be this. She didn’t want it. But now that she had it, what was she going to do? Run? Hide? People needed her. And she didn’t care how cliché the notion sounded, she was responsible. He offered her everything, but she knew better.
There is more to life than things.
He smirked. It was almost like he could read her mind. “Maybe you didn’t want to be, but you’ll keep doing it. It’s hard isn’t it?”
The hero didn’t say anything at that.
The villain kept talking. “You’re a simple woman [Hero]. Unmaterialistic. I admire that. Really, I do,” he said. “But what I’m offering isn’t money or status. It’s reassurance. Currently, you run from place to place, nowhere to go, enemies everywhere. When was the last time you saw your family, [Hero]? Wouldn’t you want to see them again?”
Her family.
“You don’t know where they are.” That statement sounded more like a question than she would’ve hoped.
Fortunately, he shook his head. “No. But they could come back. You wouldn’t have to worry about them anymore. Any need of theirs taken care of. No more threats.”
The hero laughed, the shaky thing that it was. “You’re the one that threatened them in the first place.”
“Only because you forced me to. How else could I get you to listen?”
The hero shrugged. “I don’t know. Normal people usually make a phone call. Maybe a candy gram?”
The villain gave a thin lipped smile. “You are so predictable [Hero]. You make jokes when you're scared. I think it’s adorable.”
“Well, do you want to know what I think?” The hero asked. “I think you’re afraid too.”
The villain’s smile dropped. “And what, pray tell, would I have to fear?”
The hero felt like she was stepping on dangerous ground, but she sprinted on anyway. “You’ve always been afraid of what you don’t understand. You don’t understand me. My powers. You don’t understand why I have them while all the others died. Why I’m able to outsmart you at every turn.” The hero smiled, vicious now. “And I know it drives you crazy. The puzzle you could never solve. You’ll do anything to figure it out. No matter how many second chances it takes.” She spat. “Keep your reassurances. I don’t need them.”
In that moment she knew she had taken it too far. The villain’s jaw clenched. He turned to a camera in the room. “Make it twelve.”
The electricity ramped up in the chains. The hero gasped, eyes welling up with tears as pain racked her body.
“Again I offer you everything and you throw it back in my face,” he said. “Your confidence can only get you so far. How could I be afraid of you when all it takes is a phone call to bring you here kneeling at my feet.” He crouched down now, locking dangerous eyes with her. “But you’re right about one thing, [Hero]. I’m curious. I’m curious how a scared teenager like you could survive while all the others couldn’t. And believe me when I tell you this, I will figure it out. And there are two ways I could do it. We could cooperate, maybe manage to make it a comfortable process, and I could give you everything I offer, or you can stay defiant and we can test just how far your endurance can keep you alive.”
He stood up and opened the door. “I’ll give you some time to think it over.”
Through blurred vision the hero watched him leave.
She wasn’t feeling so confident now.
