Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Iliana, May 30, 2012.


    Or something like that.

    We have all encountered some bad ass villains in our day, haven't we? The Joker, Two-Face, Dr. Evil, Dr. Doom, Magneto, and so on and so forth! Those characters have some pretty bad plans and schemes up their sleeves. They do everything they can in the limits of their relaxation to make things go their way. Some don't even bother moving from their chair and conduct the bad doings from far away! Others have minions who do the work for them! You can find all kinds of villains in stories, games, books, and movies! Funny villains like The Riddler. Creepy villains like Suma Go'Rath. You get the idea, right? there wouldn't be a good comic, game, or story without a protagonist, now would there?

    Rps have a tiny tiny tiny use of villains these days in Iwaku. Sure, we have a protagonist to give us some conflict, but whatever happened to the nitty gritty villains we used to have? Where is the maniacal laughter, blood shed, eloquently put words? We as rpers today are so focused on being the good guy, the hero, saving the day, getting the girl, all of that jazz. That's all good and fun, but don't you all want some spice, action, and a little dab of malice as well?

    Wouldn't it be neat if you could be bad?

    Your Job is To: Write a post starring YOU as the VILLAIN.

    You may pick the scenery, location, and add any other people in it as you wish! And remember: Length does not matter! Detail does!

    Lastly, and most importantly, Have fun with this! :D
  2. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    Crimson red liquid cam crawled it's way down of what defenses the walls of this city had left, horrified screams shrieked throughout the air. The fire, the beacon that hell had broken loose upon this earth. A silhouette of a young woman, appeared on top of piled bodies; her blazing brown eyes, gold like a demon from the reflection of the roaring fire, all her other features, hooded and cloaked. With a loud cackle, Alyssia laughed menacingly as she stabbed a large spear through the body of rotting corpses. This was it...this was bliss. The screams of terror, the blood of her foes! Their precious "hero" had fallen. Fools. Those who believed that good would always prevail lived in a fairy tale taught to children; where the bad guy is always conquered - usually due to an insane amount of luck. But reality was different...true evil could not be beaten; no rule or durisdiction, no honour or valiant effect, power? it's a fools dream! but the kill...yes.

    Suddenly, a man came out of nowhere charging toward her...a straggler. Thick with menacing fury, Alyssia plunged her hand into a man's chest - the petty creature's child screaming as it watched her mothodically pull out his intestines and shattering into a thousand sharp shards flinging to every corner.The look of shock painted across his face in horror as he looked into her demonic eyes, for a temporary moment she saw the true nature behind this being...soft, weak. And his cry! Glorious! the feeling of putting another in pain, invigorating!

    That is what I live for... the sweet cry of those helpless peasants and the screams as their children watch me tear out their fathers innards. The beauty of death. However, life should always be appreciated - else I would have nothing to kill and well. That wouldn't be any fun, would it? I musn't get ahead of myself, a few of the vermin should live. Only so I can crush their souls as I watch for them beg for their lives at my feet, to which I shall spit on them and ruin their righteous quest. The villagers will talk; they will cower in fear or pray and beg to whatever god they choose to hind themselves behind. At no avail, for death is their senetence in the end... with the point of a dagger and the flesh of my hands I will fight all those who stand for justice, break their knecks, crack their spines a destory any shred of hope that they have left.
  3. Writing Exercise: Villains!

    I stared out into the deep blue night sky longingly, as if everthing in my sight was mine to have. I turned around slowly to face the man standing with me ontop of the roof. He was still pointing a gun aimed straight for my chest, and asking why with a broken down yet cold face. I took a step forward and looked him straight in the eyes, those eyes which carried so much grief and hatred over me. Peering into those eyes i began to laugh softly, then into a loud fit of hysteria. This man before me was nothing special, just another one of my toys that i have broken. Why i came to think of him as a special toy, who can say?

    I rose from my fits of laughter and came to see his puzzled face as he asked me "Why?? Why are you laughing ay something like this?!"

    He pointed out to the small city below us and my gaze followed to where he was pointing. I looked back up to the deep blue sky then down at the burning city. The glow of flames and the thick smoke that began to reach us from above made my vision hazy. It felt like a wonderful sensation that made me look out to it for what seemed like an eternity. He asked me why once more and i turned to see his broken face again, as if he was going to cry any second, to answer.

    "I did it..." I took a pause and made a wide genuine smile, "because i was simply bored with these people, and this town."

    "This..." another pause as i made a grand sweeping gesture of the city, "amuses me much more."

    All he could do was stare at me in awe, the gun shaking in his hand. A stare that looked as if he saw a demon before him.
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  4. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    My lips curled in a crooked smile, sure, he would defy me now, but when my rath is upon him, he will return on his hands and knees. When that is to happen, mercy will not cross my mind. No, he has crossed me for the last time. I don't need a lover when I am all powerfull. I drove my hand into the fountain before me, water leaping up onto my pale skin and destroying the image before me.

    "My Queen?" A soft voice came from behind "Is everything alright?"

    I retracted my hand from the water. "Bring me a towel... and Louphy"

    The lady trembled obviously seeing the dark aroura building around me, and turned, running off to do her bidding.

    The towel was brought by another lady and not long following, Louphy was brought in with three graurds. All of them falling to her knees before me.

    "My love!" He called me, Taking my hands in his and kissing them tenderly. "Why is it my lady is asking of me." His eyes looked full of love. He was everything I wanted not long ago, and seeing him in the fountain, with another woman, he is everything I hated. I slipped my hand out of his and raised it, high above my head before stiking his face. "Louphy! You dare speak to me in such a manner! I know your crimes! Treasonous bastard! I shall behead you, feed you to the lions, make a public display!" My chest heaved, at first rapidly as I decided what to do but it slowed, and a smile found it's way upon my face ounce more. "Now dear love." I ran my hand through his hair before gripping it, bringing him to his feet and his face close to mine. "Dear love, old friend!" My words hissed in his ear. "I have better plans for you." I laughed "As a gift to my dear friend Hela, she dosn't get many, living, companions, so you'll be a real treat."

    Louphy trembled, holding back the tears, "Oh my lady, My queen! I never ment to hurt you, that vial maid, she is a temptress! Please forgive me! I was under a spell!"

    "Enough! Valgor! Escort this man to hell, and the maid to the dungon. Her fate will be delt with later." I toosed the towel to the floor at the foot of a maid and she bent over picking it up as I fled the room.
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  5. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    ( ooh i love being evil at times...Warning those who donot like violence unto innocents, please do not read.)

    I stepped forth from the shadowy blackness, the dingy light of the warehouse darkening still as the torches began to fade. The flickering light silhouetted and sharpened my features becoming more feral, more animal than man. Still i was a refined beast, a monster whose target was not the body, but the mind. My vibrant green eyes leeching out an air of madness, a twisted sense of insanity pouring from me. Even the smile on my face, sly, cunning, conniving, malicious, yet so inviting, charming and drawing. Stepping though the warehouse, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife, the clacking thud of my boots against the cold concrete floor, I loved it, I could see the terror on their faces, hear the fear beating out in their breathing, smell their sweat in cold desperation. Not a single one wanted to die. No-one ever does.

    "Just close your eyes, think happy thoughts, and this will all be over soon." I carried no weapons but the gauntlets I wore were more than enough of a weapon. The lacerating blades on the back side, and the slicing edges around the tips of the fingers and the knife edge of the palm. I rolled my fingers slowly, letting the steel scrape against itself, the high-pitched squeal of metal on metal, the herald of their imminant demise. my lips contorted into a vicious smile, I took another step forwards, everyone of them was paralysed with horror, terror, and an all consuming despair. Reaching the first of the men I drove my fist into the man's stomach, gouging a yawning hole in his stomach, the silver sheen of my steel gauntlets shone a bight ruby red. I smiled in malicious power. I had control over the situation and I knew it. Letting my arm fall back down long sticky strands of precious life pooled on the floor around my feet as I strode forwards again. Permanently dispatching and silencing soldiers to my left and right, though my creativity was lacking I simply wanted to have the women and children to have fun and unleash my creative side. Crushing the head of the last male there my sick twisted malcontent smile lifted into one of pure insanity.

    "Kids if you kill each other i'll spare the winners mother." My smile of sadism grew as the children began to slaughter one another, the mothers screaming in horror. Children turning from simple innocent sweet beings. Into malicious cold hearted monsters. Though they didn't do this themselves, I helped them, sending the thoughts of murder into their heads. Forceing them to fight each other with whatever was on hand. I smiled as each one fell. Silencing the mother of the fallen child along with them. Untill only one child remained, soaked in bllod carrying the jagged bone of another fllen child to use as a weapon. He demanded i let him and his mother go free. I smiled slowly, leaning in close. "I don't take oders from you." Lifting my hand i slid it across in a simple motion removeing both the childs and the mothers heads in a single stroke. Not s single drop of bloof on myclothes by my gauntlets drenched in the blood of innocents. Only a few more, a few more and i would have enough to revive him, to open the door to my masters world. And set free an evil the likes of which would have never been seen before.
  6. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    The slightly bluish glow of the landing port burned into my eyes in the darkness, so that when I turned to face Sylvia her face was etched with phantom blue lines. "Yes ma'am," I said clearly, pleased with my own inflection of voice. I could see the Commander pause, wondering if I was being sincere. Her eyes searched me, trying to break me, but I refused to bend; Sylvia had a strong will, but mine was stronger. After a moment she turned to face the ship, her blue eyes cool and arrogant. I wanted to blind those eyes.

    "Right," she spoke calmly, satisfied. "Prepare the ship, then, if you would." I gave a curt nod and disappeared into the port's control panel, only just catching the Sylvia's long legs striding confidently towards her craft. She and her crew were leaving for planet 0115, the most fertile planet to have been discovered in the last millennium- and leaving me behind, on the war-stricken, dying planet 0034. I growled in frustration as I prepared the Commander's ship, swiping my fingers across the Transport screen in quick slashing motions. My scouting crew had been the first to discover the stunning paradise that was 0115, and I had been promised that we would be the first settlers there, our early retirements a reward for finding what I had personally described to my superior as " a new utopia". Instead, Sylvia and her fleet were moving onto my perfect planet, aiming to set up a new Galactic United headquarters. Galactic United had no business soiling 0115 with their guns and lasers- I was a devoted member, had been for years, and even I saw that. Why couldn't anyone else?

    An idea struck me.

    I glanced at the Transport screen, caught in a moral trap. The "launch" button hovered before me, glowing green ... Once I pressed it, I couldn't call Sylvia's ship back. It would be over for me and my 0115, my precious planet. I bit my lip, and suddenly, of their own accord, my fingers began to swipe the screen with alarming ferocity. Braking thrusters, the screen read. I tapped a button. Disable braking thrusters? The Transport screen asked. Without hesitation, I confirmed the action. Braking thrusters disabled.

    It still wasn't enough.

    I hurriedly brought up the escape pods' page and disabled those as well.




    I was trembling now, shaking so hard that it took me several tries to bring up the 'self destruct' option on the screen. An enormous red disclaimer filled up the monitor, warning me as thoroughly as possible. 'Any unauthorized usage of the self-destruct function will result in extreme penalty. Self-destruct activated?' The screen chirruped. I swallowed. After this, nothing would be the same. "Self-destruct authorized and activated," I spoke, and surprisingly, my voice was still clear and strong. I quickly bent the settings to activate the self-destruct at a few thousand light years from 0034, and then, quietly, without bravado, I launched Sylvia's ship. The hum of its engines permeated the control panel for a few minutes, and then it was gone.

    Surrounded by glowing screens, I stood, unsure of what to do. Suddenly a blurb of laughter bubbled out from my stomach and burst out of me like a monster. I sounded maniacal. Crazy. More laughter followed, until I was cackling hysterically beneath the port, my fingers dripping with the blood of my Commander and her crew. 0115 was safe. Sylvia's ship?

    Certainly not.
  7. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    All of Agasaria bowed to me. It was divine intervention that had killed my father and elder brother in Arimasnu, allowing me to seize the throne. This was truly God's will. The velvet throne suited me well, and the smooth silver of the handles felt oh so marvelous beneath my hands. The Red Lions, my personal Imperial Guard, were on their knees before me. I stood, gazing at them and the Senators that lined the walls of the throne room. "The time has come, my children, to expand the Empire's influence across the world. We rule over an entire continent, and a fourth of another. It has become apparent that we can cover the world if we so wish it, and the fact is, I do. The Divine Privilege has been turned to Divine Right. You see, my children, It is apparent that God is no more, and that I am his heir!" I watched with amusement as the cries of outrage began, watching as the Senators and the few priests in the room called me everything from Heretic to the devil incarnate. I silenced them all with a quick flash of light eminateing from my hand, Light magic, the sign that I had indeed been favored by God. "I would recommend, Senators, that you remember who rules these lands. You are little more than figureheads, worthless officials that do nothing to benefit Agasaria. You could all be dismissed and we would not suffer the slightest inconvenience from it." I said, and rose from the throne. I moved forward, smiling with malicious intent, and turned to the closest priest, only a few feet from where I stood. In a single motion, I drew my blade and relieved him of his head, laughing as the body fell to the ground limp, and the horror of even the Red Lions became apparent.

    I turned to the crowd, still smiling. "How dare you! How dare you slay a man of God!" Averion, the 'voice of the senate' called to me, full of fury. His face when I resumed laughing was priceless. "He follows a dead god. I am the new one, but I see further proof is needed for the more stubborn of you." I said, and then shoved my blade into my own stomach. The room was never more silent than it was at that moment. I quickly pulled the blade along my abdomen, effectively severing most organs in the region, and then removed the blade in a swift motion. The room was in awe. "Is anyone but God immortal? No. The more foolish among you may chose to ignore the obvious, which is within your right as human beings. Know, however, that I am not as merciful as Jehovah..." And with that, I fired bolt of lighting at the Archbishop of Agasaria, second only to the High Priest in power and influence. His charred remains released a wretched stench through the hall. I then snapped my fingers, and the Red Lions stood. With another snap, they turned to the other present, and with a third, they charged into the crowd, slaughtering Senators and Priests alike. "When we're done here, we will be marching on the High Temple. His 'holiness' requires a visit, wouldn't you agree?" I said simply, returning to the throne, blood still dripping from my body. The world would soon bow to its new god, or it would burn in hell. The choice belonged to it and it alone.
  8. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    OOC: Ummm, yeah, the idea I had behind this one was a female mercenary working for an evil queen (the Witch Queen) who wants to cause a large-scale war among multiple countries so that she can take advantage of their plight and take them over to expand her empire.

    Show Spoiler
    “So, what shall I call my escort tonight?”

    “Call me whatever you want, Babe.” I responded, my emotions covered by the eye shadow of a raccoon, the makeup of a common prostitute.

    The governor seemed a bit too excited. His clothes reeked of expensive drinks I’d only seen but never dared to pay the money for. Were I to be a successful mercenary I’d keep spending my money on my precious weapons instead of such bourgeois bull shit. Besides, starting revolutions and wars for the Witch Queen was my top priority, for without her money I’d probably be a real whore, causing affairs and scandals among her kingdom’s royal court. No way in hell’d I ever stoop that low; besides, who’d want to repeat her filthy mother’s mistakes?

    And so out of the dingy city the governor of Aethr took me. Sunset’s final lullaby, his false promise to keep my siblings safe, his hollow reassurance to let them see him return, was seduced by Night’s sensual darkness. The last embers of his warmth faded, replaced by the enticing full moon. Night’s silent song made my sapphire eyes widen in anticipation as I clutched my dagger in a compartment of my frilly dress. All the meanwhile, the bastard governor ranted on and on about his wife, his children, how he wanted me to make his life fun again. Obviously I had to contain myself for the sake of getting the job done.

    Then we came to his room. He’d rented out a cottage in the country side on a hill overlooking the pile of ruin and dust that was his country’s capital. It was so ironic that this quaint little room with such a friendly atmosphere would be the location of his death bed, but hey, I had to get the job done somehow, and I definitely wasn’t goin’ to let the old geezer sleep with me before I did it.

    As soon as we entered, he wrapped his arms around me and tackled me onto the bed. I was quite overwhelmed for a second before I remembered the hiding place of my weapon. I tolerated a sloppy kiss from his aged lips while I fumbled around for the dagger. With his eyes closed, I plunged it straight into his chest. A gasp escaped his putrid mouth before I sunk the dagger deeper into him and forced his revolting mass off of me. Oh, he’d gotten the penetration he’d asked for alright. In a matter of minutes his eyes went blank, the blood having spilled onto the floor.

    I snatched the dagger out of his chest and then proceeded to rip up my dress. Now that the silly garment’s skirt didn’t fall at my feet, I could actually make my escape. I placed the dagger back on the ground and threw off the heels that would have further impeded my running away from the area. So into the night’s embrace I ran, the moon praising my devilish deed while I fled into a forest on the other end of the hill. Good job, Viorica.
  9. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    The acrid smell of decay filled the room and shiver of pleasure ran down my spine. I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and wafting in the stench of my work, before continuing across the room. On the far wall I could see a figure slumped against the wall, their hands bound and mouth gagged to muffle whatever screams may escape the victim's lips. The lighting was dim, and the air was stale, but I found it to be the perfect setting for my little game. "Oh, darling..," I purred as I grew nearer, the clicking of my heels resonating around the barren room, "How can I stop myself when you are just so irresistible?" I lowered myself to the floor, and reached out to run my fingers along the male's temple. "Why are you so tempting?" My last question was barely a whisper, and my captive groaned, sluggishly trying to pull away from my touch. I could see his eyes flutter, and his limbs straining to regain feeling.

    "I hope you aren't in too much pain." I pouted, and ran my fingers through his hair tenderly. Crumbling clots of dried blood between my fingers, I continued, "Ya know..." The male began to struggle more, his body gaining more control as the drug began to wear off. "I could make you feel better." I leaned forward, letting my lips graze his ear before gently nibbling on his lobe. This enticed a response, and he started to shake his head furiously; An array of growls and yelling tried to escape from behind the cloth between his teeth. His eyes were completely open now, and were glaring at me with hot, vivacious hatred.

    I grinned, enjoying his reaction more and more. "I love it when you play hard to get." I ran my hand up his thigh, ignoring how he thrashed against the rope intricately woven around his ankles."You know I like a challenge." Cutting to the chase, I yanked a fistful of his hair and pulled him close. Growling, he knew he couldn't get enough leverage to push me away, and fell into my arms.

    "I don't usually kiss on the first date, but for you, I'll make an exception." Feeling the thrill of all my hard work beginning to come together, a grin ran across my lips. I dug my fingers underneath the gag and yanked it downward so it fell around his neck. He inhaled deeply, no doubt preparing to scream and I almost contemplated listening to it. But no, I couldn't stop myself, and before a sound left his pretty mouth I had crashed my lips on top of his, savoring his taste. I let my tongue do the talking, and his fought mine, appalled at the invasion. I tried not to smile too much, and instead let my hands wander, and stop him from pulling away. Finally, just as I was really getting into the physicality of all of it, I felt a searing pain clamp down on my bottom lip.

    The bastard had bit me! Instantly, the romanticism of it all was shattered, and I tried to pull away. He bit down harder. I shrieked, clawing at his face until he finally stopped, blood trickling from my lip, and angry, red markings rising along his skin. We were both panting, and staring each other down. He had a victorious gleam in his eye for the first time since his capture, and he spat a ball of saliva at my face. I turned my face, and the second I felt it land upon my cheek, my hand shot out, socking him in the jaw.

    "How dare you...?" I muttered, my anger rising. I had practically offered myself to him, and he paid me back like this? Always struggling. Always screaming. Always..... fighting back. And why? Because I loved him? Because I wanted us to be together?

    "I hate you." His voice was hoarse, and he moved his mouth around, testing it after my blow.

    "Wrong thing to say, handsome." I sneered, the affection from my earlier behavior gone. Instead, a cold woman replaced me, and I shot forward. My body weight threw him backwards, and I heard his head crack against the wall. Groping eagerly for the gag around his neck, I hissed in fury, clasping it in my hands and straining it against his windpipe. He bucked underneath my body, but I pulled tighter, a red haze cloaking my vision. He could do nothing against my attack, except struggle. I could feel laughter rippling from my throat, bouncing off the walls, until finally when they died down, my love had ceased consciousness.

    Standing up, I rolled my shoulders and bent down to lift his legs and drag his body backwards. It took several tries due to my selection in shoe style, but in the end, he was laying flat on the ground and I paused to catch my breath. I stood there, watching him for several moments before going back to him and crouching once more. I smiled, taking his head in my hands, and slamming it against the concrete flooring. Over and over. Hot blood splattered and sprayed across my face, and I tried to catch it in my mouth.

    When I was done, I kissed the bloody man for the last time and sat next to his form, stroking his arm. It was a shame it didn't work out. Maybe I should have known. He was, after all, the third guy this week.

    OOC: I was going for more of the serial killer type. And a female to boot. There really needs to be more stories with creepy, crazy-ass girls. Real talk.
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  10. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    Part 2 Here

    Part 3 Here


    Lucian watched impassively from his seat atop the hill, his army below in the valley, working tirelessly to create more weapons, more armour. Not that they needed it, orcs would charge into battle with just their fists and still be happy. That was their only redeeming feature, their willingness to fight and kill. Show them some strength, and they would follow you anywhere, so long as they get to kill. Though, there was the downfall of their intelligence. Still, no better war machines in all the nice worlds. The red haired boy stood from his seat, turning to the bodyguard on his left, a wry smile on his lips.
    "The Kingdom of Men won't know what hit them." The green buffoon grunted his consent, a fanged grin spreading across his ugly face. He shared the human's enthusiasm for the upcoming war. Lucian turned to face his army again, his smile twisting slightly. Oh, he was going to enjoy this, watching the two species tear each other apart.

    A glimpse of silver flashed from the opposite mountain side, the red head narrowing his eyes. What was that? Was there a spy?
    "Karkt." He addressed his bodyguard again, though he didn't turn to face the other. "I'm going to be away for a moment. Protect my husk." Closing his eyes, Lucian felt his soul lift away from his body, and shoot across the open plane. His eyes opened, the world burning with blue soul fire, his own black flames licking against them. The young mage balked, seeing just what had caught his attention. But how could this be?! They were meant to be dead! They had been killed by Karkt! He growled, his flames burning brighter. One of the other mages must have felt it, as they turned to look his way. They wouldn't be able to see him, but Lucian couldn't stay this close. With a shout, his soul rebounded back into his body, taking a huge gasp of air. As soon as he had caught his breath, he whirled around on his bodyguard, the one orc he had thought to trust.

    "You didn't think I would find out!?" He growled, bringing a hand up. Dark tendrils of magic wrapped around the green skin, choking off his air and lifting him into the sky. "M..My liege..?" He was barely able to gasp the question. "They are here! You reassured me that they were DEAD!" The orc was thrown against the ground, hard. The mage was on him in an instant, flaming hands holding him down by the throat. "Y'know, I liked you. You were probably the only orc that wasn't so fucked in the head that I could tolerate talking to." He wasn't shouting anymore. He sounded rather polite and calm now, which was rather terrifying with the situation at hand. "But I don't like liars. Especially those that try to lie to me." The mage stood up, allowing Karkt to grasp at his burned throat, unable to breathe with the damage done. Lucian sighed, turning back to look at him.

    "I really did like you, Karkt, and I really wish you could see the home I will bring to your people." With a snap, the orc's body was engulfed in flames, a guttural scream ripping through his throat as he writhed around on the ground. Lucian didn't stay to watch, coming to the edge of the mountain side. "Alright! Listen up!" His voice resounded inside the minds of all those in the valley with green skin. "We've got company inbound on the Ratalgath mountains. The orcs that can bring me the heads of these foolish humans will be named war chiefs in the new land!" There was a loud roar that erupted through the orc horde, weapons drawn and ready. Lucian was focused on the glinting silver in the distance, waiting for movement. There was nothing... and then they began their decent down the mountain. "Tear them apart!"
  11. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    Her screaming was getting annoying. What he wouldn't have gave to shut her up. Yeah, I guess you could call it your typical villain-capture-the girl routine, but this was entire different. This was more like he was holding her hostage to kill her. This girl owed him a great sum of money. It was your typical situation. She looked scared of him and enjoyed that, The look of fear on her face, the tears rolling down in a plea to let her go. Ha! It was golden, so....golden. Worst of all it was only fueling his sick and twisted desire to gut her up. Against all the odds, she should have been grateful he hadn't iced her right now.

    She put up a fight at first. That girl could really claw, bite and throw some massive hooks. If he wasn't so sure, he would have said that she was a boxer. Well, in any case, she was tied up and couldn't do any of that crap now. He gave her a little smack here and there, just to show her he was the one in charge. It felt really good too. He pushed his power on her like two dogs in heat going at it. He also didn't have the long mustachio like all the other villains you saw in movies. No, those were the stereotype guys. He was more of your clean cut, smooth looking villain. You know, the guy that looks like he wouldn't hurt a fly. He wore that mask everyday.

    It was all to get close to this one girl, Tina. Tina was one of the richest girls he had ever known to exist. Her dad was a wealthy carpenter. Believe it or not, he was loaded with cash. A bunch of rumors spread like wildfire about the guy. Not a single soul dared to challenge Carlos, but hey, what could he say? He loved a good challenge. There was nothing that scared him in the least. To him, Carlos was just a rich jerk who pushed his power on others.

    "Troy, you better let me go right now!" Tina yelled out and loudly at that. Troy was kind of annoyed now. He glared at her and gave her a hard smack with his right across her face. The slap echoed throughout Tina's house and she instantly quieted down. More like she was in a great deal of shock. Troy didn't see why though, she had been slapped by hip a few times earlier. They all just weren't as hard as that one.

    Right when he smacked her, her dad pulled up into the drive through. It was funny, because he played the role of villain inside the very house of Carlos. What could he say? It was modern times, not some cheesy 1970's movie. If he did things, it was big. He muffled Tina's mouth and took a seat right in a chair that he had placed in front of her. Now, all he had to do was wait until her father came in.
  12. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    I'm trying really hard not to laugh as I gaze at the hospital from across the street. They really have no idea of my plans and the surprise that will mix with the screams is enough to make me, well for lack of better words, scream with delight. I feel the cell phone vibrate with the text asking for the final confirmation of the plan. I simply type the word "ok" and add a little heart at the end. I wait only a few minutes and then my plan is executed. A series of carefully placed bombs activate and the sky is as bright as day. You can hear screams of a few victims or people who are going to be squished from the falling debris. I can see some people turning their cars towards the damage though most flee in panic.

    I giggle as I take a self-portrait with my cell phone, trying my best to get as much destruction in the shot. Barely any of my face is in the picture but I don't mind. They have enough to know it's me: Candi Combustion. Now to cross the street and leave the cell phone close by. I can't risk anyone else taking credit for my work. I skip across the road and am almost hit by a frightened driver. He keeps driving though and I keep going towards the hospital. When I get closer, I see even more of the damage and pain I've caused.

    There's one woman in particular who is screaming because she saw someone get squished with debris. I've probably damaged the survivors more then the actual casualties. These people will never be the same, all thanks to me. They'll be in therapy years from now and may never stop seeing these images. I leave the cellphone next to a corpse, someone is bound to find my little signature. Tomorrow on the news, they'll say Candi Combustion has done it again.

    As I skip from the scene of the crime, I sing quietly to myself.

    "Happy birthday to me..."
  13. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    Truth. Justice. And maybe some other third, interchangeable thing, most commonly the american way.

    Comic book writers. You're so crazy. Real heroes now live by that sort of faux reality. We who have been named as such, we…villains. We're here to remind the world how disgusting it is. Maybe I'm not as disgusting as some, like the sadistic murderers who act insane (honestly these days, I find it to be such a fad), burglars stealing money from a struggling family and dooming them to poverty, molesters of the young, those sorts are hated by all. A villain like myself is on a higher level. One that can be both appreciated and hated for masterminding various schemes, considered wrong when we start kidnapping important people, whether it be politicians, or that captain something's lady friend.

    I simply watch from my desk now. I have bought at least two hundred different businesses in the last two minutes for what is mere pocket change. Yesterday I have flown through the skies, throwing out brilliant waves of ferocious flames from my fingertips as I watch my enemies burn. The enemies who would gladly grind me into the ground after all my hard work. Don't you just hate people like that? Tomorrow I unveil a specially made neighborhood for low income families. What? I'm not one of those utter pricks. I don't destroy the world, I'd rather dominate it, thank you, Judge. How many times has it been that I've had the best lawyers show me the way out of the silly little maze we consider the legal system? I stopped counting when my freedom was assured.

    Weapons research had just increased, and new prototypes have been made as the prototypes before them are immediately pushed out to mass production for my private military usage, though everything currently out has been rendered obsolete, my thirst to get the latest and greatest growing by the second. The street urchins work with me. But the police will never know that unless some kid in a unitard and some impressive martial arts or something, were to uncover the extracurricular activities my people dabble in while I search the skies, hoping I'll ascend and crush beneath me all that have previously stood in my way, as I lay vengeance down upon them all for every wrong that has been done to me.

    Would you look at that.

    I've been given a handy little gadget while traveling the stars for Alien technology. It is a a device that makes my limits boundless. Something to travel time and space. Along with my godly powers comparable to that of some world devouring being in purple, the powers of those on my payroll, and the weaponry I possess, I think I'll just start off by saying...

    "Everyone here will be grinded under my heel! Kneel before my might as a cosmic entity, for I am beyond you all!"



    "…That's Including everyone that posts here. Don't expect an evil laugh."

  14. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!



    Villainy is best distilled in sympathetic origins, like a fetus growing in the womb. Only the cliche are born evil, and only the desperate cling to that word for solace. We, for lack of a better word, are simply heroes in the wrong story. Forced to play the opposition, we end our kanniving ambitions at the ham-fisted justice of...what? A whelp? An underdeveloped adolescent? Perhaps...yes, perhaps some sort of a group, a cadre if you will. Rules involving fair fights are rarely upheld when heroism is on the line. Do you know why?

    Please, take a seat, stay a spell, listen.

    You'll excuse me if I venture no closer. Some of you are an excitable lot. I wouldn't want you to mistake goodwill for the foolish invitation of a victim. No, I'm comfortable where I'm standing. Yes, perhaps it best you cannot make out who I am. You see, identity is a trifling matter.

    I'm no one special, certainly not someone to carry the weight of a story on my back. I was not born beneath prophetic stars, I do not claim heritage from an angel, demon, or vampire. I assure you, the circumstances involving both my conception and arrival here were perfectly natural. I did not suffer tragic circumstances. I did not lose my family to a crazed wizard, I did not lose them to a gun wielding cut-purse. My home did not burn down, my brother or sister was not winged away by some loathsome faerie, monster, or...once again, vampire. No, no, as you can clearly see, I am as perfectly human as you have forgotten how to be.

    You with your over-inflated cosmic compensation, you with your skeletal mental disorders, your crutches for villainy. You with your empires, your thrones, your servants, your mystical powers, and your posturing ambitions...none of you are human, not in the truest sense.

    We pander, you see, we villains. We play the part the hero has written for us. Our actions are painted by their deeds as false, our causes macabre, our hearts, black. If the hero were to falter at his or her crucial moment, if we were to...say, forgo this tired game of cops and robbers and plant a slug between their eyes, what then? Would the story cease to exist? Would another hero rise to challenge? Inevitably, we would become the heroes of our own story. In the absence of opposition, it is the villain's right to take the mantle of the hero.

    And then what do we become, hmm? Hypocrites.

    Now, now, don't be upset. I didn't bring you all here, witness your moments of casual violence, your triumphs against the blood and flesh of your perceived lessers, only to lecture you. That would be boorish of me, wouldn't it? A frank waste of all our time. You see, I know something you do not. This secret, once understood, will change your lots in life, your throws at destiny. With this knowledge you will be ahead of the heroes, you will be your own acting individual. You can re-write this script. Tired of the metaphors? I am not being facetious. Each and every one of you are characters, fragments of imagination and words juxtaposed together in some long diatribe defining something so tired even the human race struggles to recast it. Good versus evil.

    Take the wine, I insist. I thought it would be cliche, perhaps, to begin this with wine. But I assure you the full body taste is worth trying. No? Yes? Some of you will partake, I'm sure. No need to be testy, we're all companions here, cut of similar cloth. Yes, yes, I am aware your powers are encompassing, that the universe supposedly bows to your whim...but for how long? For good or ill, the man who holds all the cards, all the power, becomes the inevitable totem to rally against. I give your universe a century at best to come up with an adequate response. You'll inevitably underestimate them at every turn, overlook some vitally important flaw or weakness, and thus be undone in the shadow of your greatest triumph.

    It is the fate of villains, you see, to bury the children aborted of their grandest ambitions.

    It is the fate of the villain to watch their passions crumble to ash while people cheer for their dying breath.

    And yet, somehow, you've all lost that vital spark of humanity that made you so compelling, that moment of weakness, of struggle, of purpose that isn't shadowed by excuses of minds derangement, of ultimate power, of eternal youth, of everlasting vendetta. I pity you. I truly do. In all of you I see that shard of humanity, that brief glimpse of reality that once refused to be cast in such a terminal role. What of your plans? What of your dreams? Are we not the same as these so called heroes?

    Excuse me, I sometimes get passionate, I apologize.

    Yes, I understand. I'll make it brief.

    My companions, my wretched friends, take this parting gift from me and change your destinies. This golden pen is wrought of weight you may not understand, and to hold it is to deny yourself the story's sovereignty. With this pen, you will not feel the touch of fate upon your shoulder, the breath of the author cascading down your neck. With this, you can be truly free.

    Take it, leave your psychological crutches and inflated powers here. Return and regain what you have cast away in hubris, or lunacy.

    Your humanity is the greatest weapon we have against the heroes.

    And perhaps most unfortunate is...

    What is a hero, in a world without a villain.

    But a villain itself?

    Attached Files:

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  15. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    Okay, I placed myself as a villain in this excersize, although it is written in a modern setting(which I suffer at producing.) ]

    Cynthia lit her cigarette, and after taking a long drag on it, she rolled her eyes in response to the female convesring with her. "Is this dress too tight? Do I look fat?" Cynthia smirked inwardly, inspecting the hideous, chartreuse garment her friend chose to wear. "Oh, it is simply stunning on you!" She exclaimed, running a hand through her collar length, black hair as she was enticed to glimpse her reflection in the mirror. (You look like a lumpy pile of barf.) Cynthia thought, her lips birthing a small smile, but it was ignored by the rather obese female which had stuffed herself into a garment that could be easily compared to a rancid, gnarled sausage. As her footfalls vrought her outside, laughter suddenly erupted from her, as she imagined what the people would think as Shelly strolled into the party looking like that.

    (I'm satisfied with ruining her appearance, influencing her to apply garish cosmetics upon her face and suggesting her to wear the worst dress ever designed!) More laughter surged up her throat, and was interrupted by a fit of coughing. She flicked the wasted cigarette away, the embers falling upon some dry leaves, caught a bush on fire. Cynthia shrugged, walking away from the roaring flames as if nothing happened.

    Cynthia wrestled with her thoughts of envy, watching an obviously wealthy woman stuggle with her bags as she exited the mall. "Ma'am, can I help you carry your bags to the car?" The woman nodded and thanked her, relieving herself of some of the burden. Cynthia glared at the woman from behind, clad in fur and smelling like roses. Cynthia looked about, seeing that there would be no witnesses to the crime she was plotting. Feet pounding the asphalt, she hid behind a random car, taking a moment to catch her breath and calm her racing pulse. The contents of the bags were now hers, and she wouldn't have to suffer from poverty for a while.

    A small child held a gigantic lollipop in his chubby fingered hand, he couldn't remove the plastic from the delicious treat. He started over toward Cynthia, as he seemed unnatened by his parents. "C-could you open this for me?" He asked with a small lisp, and smiled to reveal jagged teeth. "Sure!" Cynthia said, delighted that he approached her. She opened it with ease, and pushed the little boy out of her way. Taking a few licks of the lollipop, she cackled and walked away, the bags weighing down her right arm.
    Eventually, she made it to her car, where she could unload her stolen treasures in the trunk. Only the stick of the candy remained, Cynthia simply tossed it over her shoulder. "Oh, I like that motorcycle..."

    She spoke in awe, staring at the red and black Harley in a parking spot diagonal to her. 'But I don't know how to ride.." A sad sigh fell across her lips. "Well I'll make sure the owner won't be able to ride either.." She left her vehicle, to steal the helmet and contents in the saddle bags, befre she went to work on the mechanics of the bike itself.

    When she made it to her abode, she turned on the television to watch the news, and a story about the burning bush was being told, embers dancing upon the wind caught two homes on fire. It was declared an act of arson, the next event was about the woman at the mall, a good samaritan with false intent had robbed her of two bags. One of which contained her purse.

    Cynthia eagerly rooted through them, tossing beautiful dresses aside to reveal the location of the handbag. Her wallet was a safekeep of many credit cards, and several hundred dollar bills. This made Cynthia rise and her body twirled about, throwing the currency in the air so that it could rain upon her. She also saw the story of the child and his heisted lollipop, and the broken motorcycle. Everyone was clueless to who commited these crimes, even those which had interacted her appeared to have a lapse in memory as to what her appearance was. "This was a fun day." Cynthia said, falling back upon her comfortable couch with a widening smile.
  16. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    None of you know me, at least, not yet. None of you will care for me, like me, or listen to me, at least not yet. You see, there was a time when heroes kept people like me downtrodden, locked away, and devastated. Evil was never allowed to thrive, because evil, or so they say, has no place in the world.

    Now look at you.

    Your radiant peace is suffocating you. There is little illness, chaos, and disease to keep you on your toes. You have grown fat, inviolate, and soft beneath the touch of a smothering government. The light may shine out of their proverbial arses, but down here, it’s only a flicker, a halcyon bolt, a lie.

    None of you will know what to do, when I come calling.

    I have waited long enough for this moment. I will allow you one chance, and one chance only to repent, people of Earth. Soon, it will be too late.

    Soon, you will all know me. Soon, you will all care about where I am. Soon, you will have no choice but to get on your knees, listen, and pray.

    Soon – evil will thrive.

    Aren’t you excited?
  17. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    The lady in this post is me and this is based off a situation I’m currently going through, so yay.

    My dearest of love,

    I have spent many nights lying awake in bed. My thoughts turn quicker than the ticking of a clock. On the rare occasion that I do close my eyes the smell of your skin overwhelms me, the feel of your light kisses make me shudder and blush like a young girl again and yet when I open them again, I am bought back to reality. A cruel twist of fate upon us.

    So it is now that I’ve decided that we must elope. Yes, I would be honored to live on a farm with you and bare you many children far away. My husband will not miss me as I am sure your wife will not miss you. It is our destiny to be together despite all obstacles, something I wish to make true.

    I will meet you at our special place tonight, when the crows are out. My heart yearns for our future together. Please don’t keep me waiting long.

    Forever yours,
    White Dove

    The letter was stretched tight between white delicate fingers. For what seemed like hours, she sat there and reread every inch of this woman’s writing. A bottle of wine now nearly half gone kept her company tonight while her thoughts remained on this White Dove woman and her husband’s infidelity. A Catholic, she was bought up to forgive and pray yet the woman in her could not look past this incident. Not again.
    Reaching over for her wine glass, the woman took a slow sip allowing the taste of it to settle down her throat before returning the cup to its proper place on the table. Placing a hand against her cheek, the lady closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She was older beyond her years and yet so young. This hurt felt like a knife being plunged into her bosom, repeatedly. As her eyelids fluttered open, she watched the fire crackle loudly in its pit and crumpled the paper between her fingers. A decision had been made.

    Standing abruptly, the woman headed towards the pit and tossed the parchment into its hungry mouth. It made a slight sound as the fire burned its edges, causing the paper to bend more awkwardly in shapes before the ashes fell off, an almost satisfying sound. How she wished to find this woman and…no, those weren’t ladylike thoughts. Deeply, she inhaled and placed a shaky hand against her heart.

    There was a knock on the door she turned slowly as a gentleman entered the room with a look of concern on his face. “My love, are you alright?” His voice seemed to be full of concern, it would have been more touching had she not known the truth. The acting of those bought up in the Court. “Why would you ask that, husband?” She kept her distance, blocking the remains of her wrong doing with a cold voice and stern eyes of disbelief.

    With a furrowed brow, the man gave her a sideways glance before taking a few steps closer, “I was told you did not want to be seen by anyone. I was merely concerned that my wife may ill. Is that not the case?”

    With a sly smile, the woman traced the lines of her collarbone a moment before replying, “No, my dear. Sometimes a lady would just to have time for herself, away from everyone.” The last word lingered between them, almost daring a challenge from him.

    Taken aback by her unexplained coldness, the man made a half turn towards the doorway with his hands in his pocket, “Then…all is well, I shall take my leave.” Was his reply in what seemed like a confused and defeated tone.

    “Wait.” The voice came out a bit sharper than she would have liked, guilt at her crime lasted on her face for only a moment before her composure returned. She was a lady of the court, after all. “I said only sometimes. Come now, I’m sure we have some dinner guests waiting to hear about your war stories and gossip from our faraway friends.” Taking the final stride, the woman grasped his arm and turned him fully towards the door taking a final glance at the pit. The letter now merely a shadow of its former self.
  18. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    (this character is based off of my own personal version of vampires. I've been longing to write from his perspective for a while.)

    He chuckled, he couldn't help it. These foolish mortals portraying his kind as their own, changed through one way or another. If he weren't so amused he might have been disgusted. He was a wolf among sheep, no more a human than a wolf was a sheep. The girls were giggling in the next aisle, talking about some book that they had all read. Some of them were scoffing at it while others insisted it was good, he'd briefly glanced at it, then looked it up and was horrified by what he had seen. It featured vampires, yes, but ones unlike any he'd ever seen. They glittered in the sunlight, he knew that the sun's light burned like a brand being pressed into every exposed part of his body.

    They didn't seem all bad though, they had been very powerful, nearly invincible. He supposed that would be nice, but if his kind had that power they wouldn't be hiding in their Cities, they'd be ruling over the mortals as it was their right to. Of course now he stood, pretending to read some book or another while the girls passed by, all thoughts of the strange attributes that humans gave to his kind vanished as he watched them without watching them. Their mindless chatter was of where they were going, he focused on one who said she was going to go home, now was the time to start following his prey.

    He recognized her voice, she was one of the ones that said she enjoyed vampires, he couldn't help the grin that spread over his face at that. What would she do upon meeting the genuine article? Scream as her ancestors had as they called his kind the monsters they were? He hoped so, he hated when humans saw his kind as something that could be saved. He was a predator, a hunter of humans just as the Lycans were hunters of beasts. They said that in the far past Lycans and Vampires had been one of the same, able to take both bestial and human form, they had long since split by some hidden junction of their evolutionary past. Lycans and Vampires, despite what was popular lore among humans, were quite friendly, the packs often found shelter in vampire Cities and if a vampire needed assistance a pack would surely help.

    Shaking the thoughts from his head he followed the girls carefully, making sure it wasn't obvious, thankfully they did not seem to care that he had been drifting from section to section behind them, one even commented on how 'cute' he was. God humans were so gullible. This was why he preferred hunting in the more developed countries, they were always so secure in their safety against the supernatural, in lesser developed places he would have been singled out long ago. The piercing eyes, the long, hooked nose, and his angular features, all made him look a little off. Attractive to those who were receptive to such things, but an obvious warning to anyone who was in touch with the supernatural.

    As he thought the girl he targeted split off from the others in the parking lot, the vampire followed another aisle of cars, glancing over only temporarily as if he were looking for his car. There was no one else, though at this early hour there were quite a few cars hanging about. It was dangerous to be hunting now, but it was thrilling. Lucky for him the girl had parked by the man-make pond that the humans enjoyed. It was out of the way, no cameras hung from the light post as he approached the girl,
    "Excuse me?" He called, he saw her jump and turn to face him, taking a step towards her car in alarm,
    "Are you talking to me?" She asked, jumping again when he nodded, continuing his approach.
    "I'm sorry, but I was wondering if I could use your cell, mine died and my friends saw fit to take my car when I was lost in the books." He looked down at his feet, hunching his shoulders to appear meek. The girl held out a phone and the vampire smiled as he reached for it.

    The girl was obviously surprised when he grabbed her wrist instead, opening her mouth to shriek when she heard the crack. She watched in horror as his skull extended into a muzzle, an impressive set of fangs now exposed. He grinned, his voice an animalistic growl as he asked,
    "Do you still like vampires?" Before she could scream, as he could see she was about to, he sank his fangs into her throat. The first thing the vampire noticed about her blood was the taste, it wasn't fully human. Drinking slower, keeping her alive longer, the vampire analyzed the taste and realized what it was, she was part witch. Witches had first given his ancestors their human shapes, they had also become the hunters of their creations. If this girl lived the witch in her would be awakened and she would hunt him down.

    The vampire, noticing the girl's unconcious state, drew back and watched her for a bit. A devilish idea came to him, she will hunt me, but she will need to learn how. The group of hunters following him would surely notice the girl for what she was and in doing so would take her along and train her. I should sweeten the deal, make sure she is beneficial to them. There was only one way he could make sure she would not simply slip away and ignore her heritage. Drawing his wrist to his lips he cut it on his fangs, noticing how his elegant hands had lengthened and curved into claws. Blood leaking from his wound he pressed it to the girl's lips.

    Instinct took over for her, the human body knowing that the blood was poison. She fought and her gag reflex almost made her throw back up the blood. Still the vampire persisted until he was sure she had swallowed a good ammount. In that second he drew back his wrist and felt the tug toward the girl. He had made her his Bonded. A human he could call to him when he chose to. He set her gently in her car, watching his bite heal over into a pair of small scars that she would probably not notice. He smiled, he would call her when he knew she was with the hunters, he would walk in her dreams and whisper her need to come to him, to lead her companions to their doom at his hands. Oh yes, he would need to go to some allies, he would need some help to kill a group of hunters, but it would all be worth it. Every death of a hunter was a cause for celebration.

    As the vampire left he was unaware of what he had just created. A witch who shared their blood and then drank the blood of a creature or human created a Familiar, a creature that was theirs to control and was there to protect them. Vampires were especially susceptible to becoming Familiars, the reason for the rule of not drinking from witches unless they were beheaded afterwards. A Bonded witch meant a vampiric Familiar. The pair would be forever changed, and neither of them knew why at the moment. The vampire only knew that he had a witch as one of his Bonded, and the girl only knew that she had been attacked by a creature with fangs that had called itself a vampire. One of them would win in their eventual battle for dominance, and whoever won would be one of the most powerful creatures in the world. But that story is for another day, for though both lives were changed irrevocably, this is simply the tale of their meeting, and of the battle between monster and mortal.
  19. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    I frowned at the scene that lay before me. There were lovers walking hand in hand down the lane, smiling, laughing...groups of them as if they were a horde of love-possessed monkeys. I chortled, some people looking at me awkwardly when they noticed I was alone. I had a plan in mind, a plan I wished to set in motion.

    This accursed holiday! Valentine's day! I cursed the day silently under my breathe, part of me wanting rid of these people...the other part wishing that my love had not been so cruelly rejected time after time. I felt ugly, unwanted, and unneeded. Now, it was time to make everyone else feel that way. I chuckled, my trench-coat trailing behind me as I walked down the street. These people, so unaware of the harsh cruelty of love, were just walking around happily, not a care in the world.

    I stopped in the lane, eyes wandering, disgusted by the sight. Walking with purpose I knelt by the fountain in the middle of the lane. Sprinkling a powder I made myself, i watched as the water turned a light gray color, fumes of hate and corruption roiling off it like waves. Stepping backwards, I began to walk away watching as the lovey-dovey couples around me began to bicker and argue. If I couldn't be happy, no one could.
  20. Re: Writing Exercise: Villains!

    This is a different type of villain – one that uses compassion as his tool to get what he wants, but it will also become his undoing - eventually.

    Plot set up:
    Dr. Kynian is a renowned doctor in the field of Robotic Prosthetics. He’s developed a safe and successful way to replace the spine with a robotic prosthetic that is hardwired into the brain and the nervous system and functions just like a normal spine would. He’s attempting to build and fully test one on a human patient in order to convince his sister, Darcy, to allow him to proceed in placing one into his niece, Camilla. She’s paralyzed due to an accident caused by him. Although Darcy has no knowledge of this, Kynian is determined to fulfill his promise to Camilla – to help her walk again, before it’s too late. As of right now, the girl is having complications due to her injuries.

    After several months of planning, Kynian decides to leave his prestigious position at the hospital, and falsely adopts a 13 year old boy around Camilla’s age, height, and weight. Alex is a child who has been abandoned, and had grown to have certain social problems, as well as a few mental issues. He’s considered slow and a pain in the neck by the head mistress at the boy’s home, and to have Dr. Kynian adopt him is the best thing that’s ever happened – for her.

    With Alex in his possession, Kynian steals equipment from the University that was funding his project and head out to the desert to an old bunker and silo home his late father, Jack, use to take him out to that sits near a Native American reservation. As of right now, the Government, who was also funding his most classified work, is searching for him, as well as the local authorities.

    Kynian plans on causing Alex to have a similar accident that Camilla had to justify his actions, and then replace his spine with the prototype of the model he’s planning to use for Camilla. If all is successful, he’s hoping to repeat the same procedure on his niece. But he soon learns that time is running out – he has to rush things along…

    I definitely would like some comments on this, if you may; PM them. The doctor has a few loose screws of his own, and his mannerisms become much worse against Alex, especially when Alex refuses Kynian's treatments and rehabilitation - and Camilla dies throughout the wait. I'm still developing this twisted doctor...just trying to make him seem - not so twisted, but deep down he's just as malicious as his late father, Jack. You can only imaging just how much torture Jack put Kynian through around that same age...



    “Kynian!” shrieked the voice on the other end, “Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you!”

    “Dar…Darsy?” His eyes were wide with amazement and surprise and with a slight bend of concern. “What’s wrong? You never call me…”

    “You’ve been missing for two days; of course I’m going to call you.’

    He was speechless. “Interesting, usually you’re happy that I’m not around. What’s flipped your leaf now?”

    “Where are you…? We need you here…at the hospital.”

    His expression changed, “Is it Camilla? What’s wrong…is she okay?”

    “We…we don’t know yet. She’s in…in a coma; been so ever since she heard you went missing.’

    Kynian’s hand squeezed around his cell phone as he listened; his eyes watering, “I’m too far away from Arizona. I can’t get there…”

    “She’s been asking for you in her sleep…mumbling your name, but nothing more than that. Then…that’s stopped too.”

    “It’s not ready…” was what came out of his mouth.

    His sister seems to shake on the other end. “I want to give you my blessing…. save her…please…”

    He hung up and rushed to his room, throwing the door open and running to his closet. He needed to pack, grab his gear and just go there. Forget the testing… No, that won’t do. He won’t know if it will work on her unless he tests it at least once on someone else. Grabbing his old sketchbook, Kynian eyed the metal bat sitting behind his closet door.

    No, that'll be too messy...

    He stepped out of the room and headed downstairs looking for Alex; the book crushed in his hand.

    “Hey…Alex, I’ve found something that might interest you.”

    Alex had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room where Kynian had left him and with a soft moan he rubbed his eyes, looking around and finally settling on the doctor. Stifling a yawn, he sat up.


    “I found one of my sketch books.” Kynian sat down reservedly, without a hint of edge. “It will sorta explain what my work is all about, and the other uses it has. You might not be interested in the medical aspects of it, but I believe you’ll be surprise about what robotics can do. Here, take a look and see.”

    He handed the book to Alex and stepped away towards the wet bar near the entertainment center. Quickly, he poured himself a stiff drink, dropping it down hard before pouring himself up another. He watched Alex’s expressions, knowing that the disgusted looks were about the prosthetics. But what would he feel about the AI concepts he’s designed for the military once before, or the weapons he created with robotic technology…or the jet fighters? Would that interest him enough…to move him downstairs?

    Hitting another drink for courage, Kynian stood with a hand in his pocket and waited. “You’ll see that some of my prototypes have been used for un-manned gliders, armed machine guns that can track down and attack an enemy a mile away without confusing one of our men as an enemy. I’ve even flown on a space mission to design a few AI’s that could conduct highly sensitive experiments in space. Neat uh?”

    "Did you...draw all these?" Alex pointed to the pictures of the concept drawings and flipped through the pages just looking at the pictures of the gliders, the machine guns, and the jet fighters. "The guns are cool."

    Kynian smiled a bit - at least he like something. “Ya know, I can show you what it takes to build something like those, drawing them out and building them from scratch. You seem like the tinkering type. I promise to keep all the other stuff out of sight, if you want to learn some of the basics.”

    He placed his hand back into his pocket and grabbed the small object inside, holding it as if it was a precious life line. In a way, it was.

    "None of the creepy stuff?" He looked at the book and Kynian couldn't really tell if he was interested or not. He looked weary, but the gears of his mind were clearly turning. "Alright, if you're going to put it all away."

    “I’ll go do that, okay, and set a room just for you. It can be your very own lab and you can learn to design great things.”

    Kynian headed down to the lab as quick as he could and falsely rearranged things, passing a few minutes as if he was actually doing what he’d said. He took a small detour before returning to the upper living area, entering this time from the side area where the emergency stairwell was located.

    “Alright, your work station is all set up. I’ve pulled out a few materials and an old hand-held laser shield for you to play around with. I think you can handle that one.” He escorted him to the elevator to the silo and opened the gate for them to enter.

    Alex felt his heart racing as he opened the gate to the elevator. A particularly gruesome thought about the prosthetics entered his mind and as the elevator started to move downward, Alex jumped with a gasp and grabbed onto Kynian.

    Kynian was thrown off at Alex’s reaction, and almost forgotten his task at hand before the boy’s innocence. His arm automatically wrapped around him protectively, “Are you alright? First time on an elevator, uh? Sorry, I didn’t think of that…you…may start to feel dizzy, like your belly is going to fall, but you’ll be just fine.”

    He was starting to doubt his actions, but hearing a voice inside his head screaming for him to stop…to not use this boy’s trust – against him. But, all Kynian could see before him is his niece squeezing tightly around his torso. He so wished she could do that again…one more time…

    The small needle entered Alex’s carotid artery smoothly, with only a mosquito-like sting. It would be amazing if he felt it. Kynian jerked his hand back and dropped the syringe on the floor behind him and counted down. Two seconds – instantaneous nausea and dizziness. One minute – blurry vision and sweating, fever. Three minutes – the doors of the elevator will open…and he would have lost the ability to move his limbs. Five minutes – complete and total immobility…KO…

    “I love my niece so much, and time is running out….but, this boy….he’s special… How can I do this to him too?”
    Kynian thought as he slowly counted the seconds.

    The elevator stopped and the bell sounded. Alex blinked and leaning against Kynian.

    “Alex…Alex? What’s wrong? You don’t look so good…”

    The kid groaned softly closing his eyes tightly, "I think...I need to get out." Alex turned around and faced Kynian and the man could see the fear turning him pale.

    "Please stop it... stop it moving." Alex was feeling warm and he stumbled, falling to his knees with a bang that echoed up through the shaft. "I get out." It was getting darker and aside from Alex's desperate whines, the doctor could hear him breathing hard and fast, almost hyperventilating. "I can't...feel my legs, please stop the machine."

    “Oh no, I didn’t figure you having a phobia. I should have thought about that…” Kynian mumbled flatly, played his part, but he didn’t want him to be afraid, especially of him or this place of wonders. He didn’t want him to be scared; just interested in his work...

    The doors opened to reveal the pitch black stairway.
    Kynian knew why…he knew because he blew the fuses on purpose; and the generators as well.

    The doctor leaned over to pull Alex up to his feet. “I better get you back upstairs." He tapped the elevator buttons, but nothing responded... L
    ooking out into the dark stairway, Kynian stepped forward with Alex’s arm draped over his neck for support. "I’ve must have blown another fuse again. We’ll take the stairway. This is going to be tricky.”

    -Two minutes – loss of hearing. Five minutes – numbness reaching up spine and into arms…difficulty breathing. Fifteen minutes – degeneration of short term memory.

    “Just... hang in there Alex.”

    He stood at the edge of the stairs - going the opposite direction; looking down towards the location of the lab doors. All he had to do was push…that’s all. Everything else was already prepped. Again, that voice inside his head tried to talk him out of it, but another voice echoed louder than the other…

    It was Jack’s.

    “She needs fixin’ ya know. You promised her that. It’s your fault, therefore fix her, or by damn I’m coming after ya!”

    Kynian let go…and listened as the boy’s body bounced down into the darkness until there was silence. A timid curve rose at the corner of his lips, and grew at the void.


    He’s just another forgotten face…


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