I heard "How Bad Can I Be" several times today because of April Fools, and I'll have you know I thought of Wayne every single time. It made the experience slightly less cursed, thank you
Excellent! My plan to make y’all associate that song with my evil, dirty boi is finally working.
I wrote my very first fic :’D Been wanting to try out writing for a while, but been very hesitant about it because of different reasons. But I finally wrote something. It’s a one-shot about Triumphant Wayne and Wilson. Fic under the cut:
The light tapping of a pen against the surface of the table echoed out in the large meeting room. It was, after all, the only sound that could be heard within these four walls. Wayne kept his emotionless eyes locked on the door at the other side of the room, leaning backwards in his big, black chair. His hand was flicking the pen in a steady rhythm on the long table with rows of empty chairs on each side. Every now and then he would check the clock hanging over the door to keep track on how much time had passed since he sat down at the end of the glass-covered table.
The blonde took a deep breath and let it out slowly; He was getting impatient. The meeting was supposed to start ten minutes ago, but there were no signs of his participant yet. Perhaps he had calculated his time of arrival wrong? Needless to say, he hoped he would show up soon; The new ruler of The Constant was a very busy man.
Suddenly, the sound of the door cracking open stopped him from tapping his pen any further. A dishevelled man entered the room; His dark hair was more untidy than normal, and he was covered in dirt and bruises. His clothes had seen better days, and his chin was peppered with uneven stubbles. In his hand was a weird contraption that looked like a radio on a rod. He was panting, meeting his tired eyes with Wayne’s on the other side of the table.
“You are late, Mr Higgsbury,” the more well-dressed man said dryly.
Wilson looked at the other, rather in disbelief. He took a moment to collect himself before responding.
“Were you expecting me at a specific time?”
“Isn’t that obvious? I assumed you were fully aware that there would be a meeting at the end of your journey. I’m surprised that a man of your status would be late to something as important as this.”
“Meeting?”
The scientist was baffled by how much the labourer he once knew had changed. His demeanour, the way he looked, the way he spoke… it was all such a huge contrast from the man he knew. The Nightmare Throne had remarkable effects on individuals. However, his analytic nature had to be put aside; He couldn’t let himself get distracted from his mission.
Wayne sighed. “Yes, a meeting. Did the dark world take a toll on your focus? Now sit down, we need to discuss the matter in hand before we run out of time.”
Wilson reluctantly took a seat by the table on the opposite side of Wayne, putting the divining rod on the floor next to him. He was both curious about what this “meeting” was all about, and scared of what the blonde man would do to him if he didn’t obey.
Wayne glanced at his folder for a moment before speaking up.
“While your punctuality could use some work, I’m thoroughly impressed by your performance. Apparently your stubbornness is but an indication of your persistence. I honestly thought you were going to perish for a moment in the fourth stage of my challenge, but you somehow managed to pull yourself through. It’s almost as if you have done this before.”
Wilson rolled his eyes at that.
“However, there are a couple of things I fail to understand; Firstly, what was your intention of coming all this way? And why, out of everyone in the group, were you sent to do the task?”
It fell quiet in the room. The scientist bit the bottom of his lips nervously as he looked at the monotone expression of the man across the table, waiting for answers. It was rather unsettling, so he glanced down at the table, collecting his thoughts. The first question was relatively easy to answer, but the second? Wilson wasn’t entirely sure why, himself. Or maybe he knew why, but didn’t want to admit it.
The new king interrupted his train of thought as he grew too impatient.
“Was it power you sought?”
Wilson shook his head.
“I came to bring you back, Wayne. Back to the others, back to your friends. Everyone misses you; they want you to come back. What you have become, what this throne has turned you into; This isn’t you. Whatever They are telling you, They’re lying. They’re lying to get you on They’re si-“
Suddenly, he felt a tightening sensation pressing in on him, and he couldn’t move. A giant, shadow hand had sprung up from the floor and grabbed him tight around his arms and sides. Wayne stood up from his chair and made his way to Wilson with his hands behind his back. His eyes were cold as ever, but there was a more tense look in them; almost like… anger. He spoke calmly, yet with intensity.
“I don’t think you understand, Mr Higgsbury. All my life I’ve been writhing among the people of the abyss. The filthy scums that had to work for hours and hours on end to be able to barely get by, and at the same time had to withstand people above stepping all over them and make them feel like worthless pieces of shit. No amount of work, hope or ambition could get us out of that pit of despair. I’m sick and tired of living in a world where people born in fortunate circumstances get everything, while us who actually work get nothing.”
He reached Wilson’s seat and sat down on the corner of the table in front of him.
“But here, my work finally pays off. Look at me now: I’m the ruler of a whole world, and it’s all thanks to my hard work and effort. Something you’ll never understand.”
The scientist was about to protest when suddenly he felt pressure around his neck. Wayne had materialized a shadowy glove around his hand and grabbed him. For the first time, there was an intense expression across the king’s face.
“Do you finally see what I’m capable of doing now? What I have accomplished is not worth throwing away for “friends”. And you, especially you, can never convince me to give this up! Now tell me, Mr Higgsbury, why did they send you?”
The two men looked at each other with gazes as hard as diamonds; None of them were planning on giving in any time soon. True, Wilson was probably one of the last people one would expect to come Wayne to the rescue. The two of them didn’t exactly get along well from day one. There were several unresolved issues between them, yet here he was, face to face with the ex-fellow-survivor he so much despised. Wilson struggled to speak while he was in a choking hold, but he managed to mutter out his reply.
“I… w-wasn’t sent. I… volun…teered.”
At that, Wayne loosened his grip completely while shadows flaked off his hand, confusion spread across his face. He almost looked innocent; almost looked like his old self.
“W-what?”
Wilson coughed and took a few deep breaths. He wished the shadow hand pinning his arms to his sides would loosen up too so he could breathe better.
“I… came here by my own will. And that’s because… the reason you’re on that throne… I’m responsible. It should have been me, not you. I think… the others would have wanted it that way anyway. You say you feel great and powerful, but I know for a fact that that’s not true. I’ve been in your position before, and I know behind this facade there is endless pain and suffering, loneliness and emptiness. They just trick you to believe what They want you to believe. So please… just let me make things right.”
At the end of it, his tone had become more and more desperate. He tried to wriggle loose from the grasp and reach for the divining rod, but to no avail. Wayne was quiet for a long time, ignoring the scientist’s struggles. He couldn’t help but feel… something deep within him. He could sense a certain kind of truth in Wilson’s words, but every fibre of his being fought against it, pressing any provoking thoughts to the very back of his mind. Eventually, his expression grew darker and darker until he regained his usual cold and calm composure. He stood up from the table and turned his back against Wilson, mumbling his next words.
“You are dismissed from this meeting.”
Before Wilson managed to respond, a portal opened up beneath his feet, sending him plummeting down the seemingly endless fall. Once he had vanished, the portal closed, and silence filled the room.
The ruler of The Constant stood in his place for a while longer, breathing in and out to shake off any unnatural feelings. Well, any feelings unnatural to his current character. Something shiny in his peripheral caught his attention; the divining rod. He bent down and picked it up; studying the matte surface of the remarkable contraption. His eyes landed on the bottom end where it was shaped like a disfigured key. He glanced back at his own seat; The Nightmare Throne. Next to it was a wooden nub, with ancient symbols engraved on the edges, attached firmly to the floor with a black substance. In the middle of it was a disfigured hole, designed to fit the key in his hands. Or maybe it was the other way around. With little to no consideration, the blonde grabbed one end of the rod in each of his hands and sent the middle section down to his knee, snapping it in half. He tossed the two pieces to the side before gathering his papers and exiting the room. The meeting was over, and he had other places to be.
He was after all a very busy man.
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If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed it ^^
