So Iām not a journalist. I honestly never really thought about becoming one. But after the experience I had earlier this week, I felt I had no choice but to document this. Iām sure youāre all sick and tired of hearing about whatever shit the villains of our quaint city have done each week, but man, do I have a story for you. I was at the bank last Friday when Siren sang her way into the vaults. Unfortunately, I just so happened to be in the exact spot for her to grab me as her human hostage on the way out. Let me tell you, being used as a human shield majorly sucks. I honestly thought sheād kill me immediately when we arrived at some dump outside of town. I thought, this is it, Iām done for. What a hellish way to end my life. But, obviously, that wasnāt the end. She pretty much ignored me after we got there, just started digging around in the piles and shit. Youād expect her to at least tie me up or something, ya know? Instead she just kind of set me in a chair and wandered off, muttering about something quietly. It would have been so easy to just get up and run, but something kept me in that chair.
Now looking back, Iām glad that I stayed - otherwise I wouldnāt be writing this post.
As she moved around the dump I couldnāt take my eyes off her. Her body flowed just as smoothly as the music out of her mouth, her calling card as a villain. She was very similar to the old myths - beautiful women first drawing sailors close with their voices, and then luring them even closer with their appearance. I can imagine youāre saying thatās what kept me in my chair, but itās been proven her abilities donāt work on those who lack sexual attraction.
When she moved closer to me, I noticed she wasnāt muttering, but singing softly under her breath - a song that sounded almost like an old lullaby. In her hands was a cup - surprisingly clean, and filled with a steaming brown liquid.
āYou look like her.ā It took me a moment for my brain to catch up and process what she said, and then I just continued to sit and stare at her once I had. She held the cup out for me until I finally took it, and all the while I just continued to sit and stare. Like the idiot I am.
āDrink. Itās not poisoned or anything. If I wanted to kill you, Iād have done so already,ā she told me. It was good, too. Hot chocolate with cinnamon.
āWhy are you doing this?ā I asked her. I didnāt understand what was going on or why she was bothering to keep me alive. Wouldnāt it have been easier to just get rid of me? Clean this whole mess up and make off with her loot?
āDoing what? I do many things, youāll have to be more specific than that.ā
āWhy are giving me this instead of killing me?ā I mean maybe I should have just been thankful that this was the case instead of, you know, my dying being the situation at hand and all. But honestly, curiosity killed the cat and it will certainly kill me.
āYou look too much like her to kill.ā Nothing more. Just that one sentence, and then she turned away from me. I donāt know why I panicked when it looked like she was about to leave. Honestly, sometimes my actions donāt always make sense to me.
āWhy are you a villain?ā
And she stopped in her tracks, I could see her spine tense. For a moment I thought that was enough that my looks wouldnāt save me.
āYouāre rather full of questions, arenāt you.ā she sighed and sat down, her legs crossed and arms in her lap. She stared at her clasped hands and was silent. I sipped at my cocoa and waited, figuring she was deciding how to continue. I was right.
āYou knowā¦ Have you ever felt the pressing need to protect something, and then being completely destroyed once you realized youāre too useless to do anything.ā
I thought back on my life. I wanted to protect my cat, and thought back on anytime she had even a hairball. I stayed silent though, since I donāt think thatās what she meant.
āIā¦ā she took a deep breath and let it out shakily, her voice having cracked on just one simple word. She hung her head in her hands. āBeing a villain isnāt something you really plan. It just happens. You realize youāre powerless to do anything, and just canāt accept that.ā she stopped and looked at me. āHave you ever considered why some people are villains?ā
I leaned forward in my seat. Honestly? It had never occurred to me there was a reason. I shook my head. I thought it was just something they did regardless of their circumstance. Then I realized something. We consider villains to be less than us, something to cast aside as soon as theyāre defeated. We never stop to consider WHY they do what they do, that they might have stories of my own.
She smiled, a sad smile. āNo one ever does. You know, I was like you once. Normal citizen with a normal life. I worked as a singer at a club and the most evil thing I did was slip a little extra power into my voice to bewitch a few tips.ā she laughed. āOf course, none of it was for me. It was all for herā¦ā
āWho is she? This person you keep mentioning?ā Obviously someone important, since my similarities to them were what was keeping me alive. But honestly? At this point I was just enraptured in her story. I was going to be the first person to hear her story, and that was exciting. You never stop hearing about how the superheroes become heroes, but no one thought twice about the villains. They just showed up and started wrecking havoc, and none of us cared to learn why.
āMy daughter. Her name was Lillianna.ā I let her sit in her thoughts, the reality of it washing over me. Was. Such a simple word but such a heavy meaning in context. People always said a motherās love would drive her to do anything. āMy dearest Lilly was the sweetest flower that could possibly have been. Five years old and constantly telling me that I should dress up and go save people. Be a hero, Mamma. But being a superhero is dangerous, and I wasnāt going to risk leaving Lilly alone. She needed me more than the city needed me, and there will always be other heroesā¦ā
After a moment, I prodded her to continue, desperate to know what had happened to change things so drastically. āWhat happened to Lilly?ā
āIt wasnāt the heroās fault, not really. He tried to draw the fighting away from the school. But he didnāt do enough and he acted too late for my flowerā¦ā
After she didnāt continue for a few minutes, I started to speak again, only to be stopped by her abrupt standing.
āWhen the thing you love most in the entire universe is taken from you so brutally, itās very easy to lose yourself in a black hole and stop caring about anyone else. Iāve found the best way to combat letting that happen again is to hate everyone around me instead. Whatever it takes to survive, right?ā
I didnāt follow her when she left. I think I was still too in shock from the story, still trying to process what had just happened, what Iād learned. But the experience makes me wonder - why donāt we hear the origin stories of the supervillains in our city? Is it because the media thinks being sympathetic with the villains and recognizing that they are people too will make people less inclined to fight their crime? I have to call bullshit on that one, honestly. Siren had a daughter and she lost her. But so have many other parents in this city, and theyāre still your average joes. Sirenās a criminal and she does bad shit - but sheās a person too, with a story that deserves to be told. If not for her sake, then for Lillianaās sake.
