Villains Rule

by M. K. Gibson

  By Randy.

  The gods above and below were laughing at me. Come to think of it, there were two of them here. Even bound, I could tell they were taking joy in this.

  “When I was eight years old,” Randy said, speaking aloud if not to me, “I came to the conclusion that I was smarter than my mother. Something I must have inherited from whomever my father was. At least he was smart enough to get away from that woman. You were the smart one of the family. And it was you I wanted to get to know and become close with. But let us be honest, that is not something you ever wanted. You made that abundantly clear.”

  “Randy—” I tried to speak, but Randy grabbed me by my hair and slammed me against the ground with his enhanced strength.

  Coupled with the concussion I already had, I was like a child in his grasp. Randy set me back up as quickly as he’d slammed me down. My head was spinning and pain lanced through my now clearly dislocated shoulder.

  “Do shut up, Uncle,” Randy said.

  Thus far I’d say my fall to my own arrogance was going fairly well. Beatings aside, Randy fell into a villain trope: the monologue.

  And while doing that, he missed a couple of key actions that happened right under his nose. Now all I had to do was keep my usurping nephew occupied and focusing all his attention on me.

  If this worked, I might actually survive.

  The Second Rule of Villainy

  A villain will know every rule through and through. And when in doubt, a villain will always refer to rule #1.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Where I Am Forced to Listen to Randy and I Test a Theory

  “Now, where was I?” Randy asked. “Oh yes. Please do not take this the wrong way, Uncle, or do, I honestly do not care, but people like you look down on those you feel are intellectually inferior. And most of the time, people like you consider nearly everyone to be your inferior. Thus, it is amazingly easy to hide in plain sight as long as one puts on the proper imbecile affectations while speaking in contractions and shortened words. It helps to wear the moronic clothing my slacker generation seems to gravitate towards. From there, all I ever had to do was sit on the couch, pretend to play with my phone and listen. And listen I did. Over the years I learned all your rules, as you are prone to wax on. My god, you like the sound of your own voice.”

  “So, over the years I stole items from your realm. I know you knew I stole them. I wanted you to see me steal them, Uncle. That way, you considered me inept and not a threat. But what I was doing was testing my powers. As my mother was technically a goddess, then I as a demigod had to practice my power. But my real skill was in mental manipulation. It was not hard to convince mother that she needed to usurp you. It was easier still to convince Courtney that he had feelings for my mother. Your receptionist, though—she was impossible to crack. What is her story, anyway? How do you have someone that loyal to you?”

  “Go ask her and find out,” I said as my head cleared a little.

  “I think I might. So once I had the players set, all I had to do was put the plans into motion. Grimskull was easy enough to seduce. I placed both mother and him under a charm, where they felt they were in love and their only goal was bringing you down. With Courtney similarly bewitched into loving mom and doing anything for her, the mission to come to this land was the perfect trap. You were doomed the moment we came through the portal here.”

  “You planned all this?” I asked.

  Randy smiled. “I did. And I can see your mind moving, Uncle. Why bring you here? Well, I needed a place with vengeful gods who hated you. Once here, and the trap was sprung, I needed you to do what you do so well. The infamous Shadow Master would not allow himself to be bested by anyone, let alone a buffoon like Grimskull. You had to be convinced you were set up. Which you were. Your hubris refused you to consider me a threat. All I needed was for you to escape Grimskull’s and set everything into motion.”

  “Of course,” I said, thinking it all through. “You were leaning against the prison bars with the phone in your hand.”

  Randy laughed. “I was this close to just throwing the damn thing at you and screaming ‘Run, Uncle Jack, run!’ But I was pleased you eventually figured it out. From there all you had to do was raise an army, get the gods involved, eliminate your competition, and return. You bent the rules to your benefit, as I knew you would. And every time anyone got close to you, I made sure you escaped.”

  “You protected me?”

  “What? Did you think that you did it all by yourself?” Randy asked. “Well, fine . . . for the sake of honesty, you did most of the work. I just made sure they were always a step or two behind you. Is your ego properly stroked now?”

  “Sufficiently. But how could you track me when no one else could?”

  “Uncle . . . seriously?”

  I shook my head at my own stupidity. “Of course, it was your phone I empowered. They couldn’t track me, but you knew where your phone—and thereby I—was at any time.”

  “Duh.”

  “I deserved that,” I said. “But, may I ask you a question or two, Nephew?”

  “Why not.”

  “What are you using as a totem? I don’t see a phone and you clearly are imbued with my realm’s power.”

  “Simple, really. Phones, totems, items and the like are very cumbersome and very old-fashioned thinking. If you had used your mind a little, you would realize that internalizing your power would be far more useful.”

  “Internalizing? You mean you swallowed something? Doesn’t that just get messy when you need to . . . retrieve it on the back end?”

  Randy rolled his eyes. “Twelve-hour time release capsules, Uncle. Imbue the power into a long-lasting pill and you have all the power you need.”

  “Smart,” I said honestly. “When I get out of this I will keep the tip in mind.”

  Randy laughed.

  A lot.

  “Oh, Uncle Jackson. You are beaten. You have been bested. And now I am the villain. And now, here you sit. Wounded and all your power burned out because you didn’t have the conviction to kill my mother.”

  “He’s kind of a big softy like that!” Lydia called out from on top of the balcony. She had my sister in a chokehold with hand and one of her knives held to Paige’s throat. “But I’m not.”

  “It’s nice to know you took my advice,” I called to her. While Randy was bloviating, I saw Lydia look up and smile at me. She had kept up the unconscious charade in order to learn information. And learning that Paige was the key to Randy’s demigod status was indeed key intelligence.

  I’d pat myself on the back if I could for instructing her. The reward I received instead was a vicious backhand from Randy.

  “Silence, Uncle,” Randy said. “You! Release my mother!”

  Lydia laughed. “Now why would I do that?”

  “She is a god, you cow! Your weapons can’t hurt her. And even if you could, I would then destroy you.”

  “First, watch your mouth, little boy. You couldn’t handle this body. Your uncle can barely keep up.”

  Despite the pain, I laughed. She wasn’t wrong.

  “Second, I was very recently chosen to be the avatar of Valliar. I am literally coursing with godly power designed to smite the wicked. And this knife was a gift from Valliar himself. A godly weapon with the power to kill other gods. So, what exactly do you think your odds are?”

  “I am a god!” Randy screamed. His voice echoed with power as everything that wasn’t nailed down rattled and shook. Amid his little tantrum, Randy missed another key piece of the puzzle.

  Templar Wren had stealthily sneaked back up and through the section of missing wall where he was dragged by Carina’s corpse. For a big man, Wren could move scarily quietly. Perhaps an enchantment of Vammar’s? With Randy’s attention still on Lydia and his captive mother, Wren was able to move into position. Wren looked at me for permission and I nodded.

  “Listen to me, you low-born whore, I do not care what deity has chosen you for his meat
suit. If you harm her, I will kill you. This is my moment, not yours. I am the new Shadow Master!”

  “You’re barely practice,” Wren said from behind Randy. “Ready for round two?”

  Randy snapped his head around in shock and disbelief. “But . . . you died!”

  “Dead ain’t dead unless you see the body, kid,” Wren said, swinging his massive hammer.

  Randy went flying as couple hundred pounds of pissed-off Templar put all his godly enhanced strength behind his swing. The sound of a snapping spine was audible as Randy was launched into the air. My nephew landed in a heap of broken stone and rubble.

  “Gods above and below, he is related to you,” Wren said.

  “Please, do not remind me,” I said. “Do you have enough power to spare for a little healing?”

  Wren smiled and slammed his hammer down on my head. The impact broke my skull. And as always, Vammar’s power healed me immediately.

  I grabbed my head in phantom pain. “I thought you didn’t have to do that anymore?!”

  “I don’t.”

  “Asshole,” I said, holding out my hand. Wren grabbed it and pulled me up.

  Wren nodded, then looked around. “Where’s Hawker?”

  “Here,” the young warrior said, pushing his way up from the rubble where Randy had left him for dead. “Somehow the rubble landed in a way where it braced itself instead of crushing me.”

  “Yeah yeah, praise the gods, for your dumb luck,” Lydia said. “Now, do you want me to kill this bitch or not?”

  All eyes turned to me.

  In a moment that felt like an eternity, I had to decide whether or not my sister died. On one hand, her death would remove Randy’s power instantly. On the other hand, I was not a murderer. Well, I was, but those killings had purpose.

  But didn’t this one as well?

  Did my sister’s life have . . . value? Did she have meaning to me?

  I was right back to where I was only the night before. Paige defeated, and my having to decide her fate. In that moment I had let her live because Randy convinced me to, in order to retain his power. But the choice, and the impact of that choice, was just as true then as it was now.

  A thought popped into my head. I looked up to Valliar, who only smiled back at me.

  No. Could it be that simple?

  I thought about everything that had happened since coming here and a ridiculous theory formed in my mind.

  Valliar, you crafty bastard.

  “No,” I said. “Do not kill her.”

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Where the Heroes Unite and Randy Tells a Very Unfunny Joke

  “Why?” Lydia asked, sounding both confused and disappointed.

  “You couldn’t if you wanted to,” I said.

  “Watch me!” Lydia said. She tried to jab her blade into Paige’s throat, but her muscles refused to move.

  “What’s wrong with me?”

  “Nothing. You are Valliar’s mortal avatar.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning you can’t do anything morally wrong,” I said.

  “No killing? No theft? No . . . dirty stuff?!”

  “Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t know the ins and outs of Valliar’s credo. I’m sure there are loopholes. But I don’t see one where cold-blooded murder is allowed.”

  “And you gave me to him because why?”

  “Because he is weak. And stupid,” Randy said angrily, trying to rise to his feet. It was clear he was trying to use his power to heal himself and was having a difficult time.

  “Godly imbued weapons, what a bitch,” I said, taunting Randy. “Now please be a dear and just stay put; adults are talking. Lydia, I did it because you and our child were going to die.”

  “I guess you have a point. My life is worth a lot, even if it means I can’t stab this bitch. Ow!” Lydia screamed as she struggled with Paige, who was now completely awake and running away. “She bit me!”

  “You more than likely have rabies now,” I said. “Possibly several sexually transmitted diseases.”

  “So do you.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” Lydia said. “Do I go after her?”

  “No, leave her. She is powerless now,” I said. It looked like Paige also knew the faking-unconscious-to-learn-secrets trick. Once she knew that Lydia couldn’t hurt her, she hauled ass.

  “Uncle! This is not over,” Randy yelled.

  “It was over the moment you considered crossing me, boy.”

  In response, broken rubble began to rise and float in an intricate pattern around Randy. Faster and faster the stones spun. While it was clear his body was partially paralyzed, Randy’s power was not.

  Throwing his arms forward, Randy hurled a hail of deadly rock at me. Wren leaped to my side and raised his shield. Blue light beamed from it as the protection of Vammar intercepted the attack. Rock and stone bounced off Wren’s shielding magic.

  “Remind me again why I save you so often?”

  “Because I’m endearing,” I said with a smile.

  Hawker came to stand next to Wren and me. He nodded silently to us and simply took up his battle position. There the three of us stood, squared off against my nephew. Three—ugh—heroes, ready to go down fighting a common enemy.

  It was so poetically beautiful, it made me want to throw up a little.

  “You have a plan?” Hawker asked, keeping his eyes on Randy and staying ready.

  “Yes. We kick his ass,” I said, looking at Hawker’s hand where he was still clutching Carina’s broken battle staff for a weapon. “Not much of a weapon.”

  “Not much of a plan.”

  “Trust me, I have a bigger backup plan,” I said.

  “Last plan you had got us here. Then all this happened. Perhaps you’re not as smart as you think you are,” Wren said.

  “Seconded!” Lydia yelled from the balcony.

  “Not funny,” I said.

  “Exactly. It’s hilarious.”

  “Just get your ass down here. We have other matters to contend with.”

  Lydia jumped from the balcony over the spot where Grimskull was dragged into the Never Realm. Just before she crashed, soft light and warm winds buffeted her descent. She landed as softly as if she had rolled out of bed. It appeared that Valliar was still inside her.

  Metaphorically.

  Well, literally.

  Damn it—not like that!

  Perverts.

  Lydia picked up Hawker’s broken battleaxe from where she landed. Snatching the weapon, she ran over to stand the line with us. Lydia set the weapon’s head onto the broken battle staff in Hawker’s hand. The weapons united as if meant for one another. Hawker now held a very deadly, if much shorter, godly weapon.

  Hawker nodded his approval and we all turned our attention to Randy.

  “Fucking heroes. Look at you four,” Randy spat. “What are heroes without the villain? Nothing! It is the villain that sets the stage. It is the villain that causes the drama. Without us, the villains, the hero is nothing. Has nothing. No motive. No ambition. Nothing!”

  I swear I’d heard something very similar not too long ago. No doubt orated by a much smarter, better-looking, more worldly individual with clearer execution.

  Amateurs.

  “You will not take this moment from me,” Randy yelled while he vainly hurled more and more massive chunks of stone at us, only to be deflected by Wren’s shield.

  It was clear Randy’s power was running out. His attempts to heal his body were exacting a massive toll on his power reserves. Throwing rocks was all he had left in him. “I have worked too long and too hard to get here.”

  “If you cease now, Randy, I will let you live,” I said, ignoring the “long and hard” comment.

  “N-never!” Randy seethed, his eyes glowing with hatred and power. Corpses from all over the room began to animate, standing up and preparing for battle, while thunder and lightning manifested within the great hall.

  An im
potent gesture from a beaten man.

  “Zombies?” I asked.

  “On it,” Hawker said, diving into the undead. The warrior swung his new weapon with reckless abandon, cutting the zombies down before they had a chance to attack en masse.

  “Weather?”

  “I’ve got this one. I still have a little bit of Valliar in me,” Lydia said.

  “Uhh,” I sighed. “Phrasing?”

  Lydia laughed as her eyes turned white. She raised her arms to her sides and white nimbus energy accumulated around her hands. Her feet slowly rose until she was once again hovering above the floor. Lydia’s light grew brighter and brighter, encapsulating her body. The power that raised the storm was pushed further and further back to its source, and in moments the storm ceased entirely. Lydia returned to the floor and her light dimmed. It was almost sad.

  “Look, I am very tired now and I want this all over. Do you have any other tricks, Nephew, or can we just please end this story?” I asked, mocking Randy. To my surprise, the kid had one left.

  Randy pushed himself to his knees and looked at me. His face was bruised and broken from his landing. I could read the pain on his face from where Wren’s hammer had hit him. Yet he was smiling.

  “This . . . isn’t over.”

  “Unless you have one last joke to tell, boy, this farce is over,” I said.

  Randy pulled out a gun. A gun I forgot he had. The gun he killed Courtney with.

  My nephew shot me in the chest.

  “How’s that for a punch line, motherfucker?”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Where I Have a Near-Death Experience

  From my perspective, that was not funny.

  “Jackson!” I heard someone scream, but for the life of me I didn’t know who it was. It could have been some or all of my allies. Getting shot has an odd way of distorting one’s perception of the world. Perhaps it was the shock?

  My knees bent of their own volition and I felt myself fall flat on my back. My head bounced against the stone floor. To be honest, I barely felt it.