The Unwritten Villain

The local hero swept the city line, patrolling the streets from above.

I observed from far below, considering the situation. He was quite the comic book superhero, the classic “save the day” college kid juggling his schoolwork with being a hero. Not a day would pass when he wasn’t seen flying around, performing quite mundane tasks such as saving kittens from trees or chasing the occasional mugger.

What he lacked, in practical terms, was a truly evil villain.

Behind him, a large billboard loomed, displaying an image of the city with his silhouette soaring high above. It was an advertisement for something, sure, but it struck me as something more. This hero, beloved and celebrated, had never faced genuine darkness, never confronted an adversary who could really challenge him.

This “hero” instead opted to do the job of a glorified policeman. He searched the streets late at night and in broad daylight, signed autographs, and showed up at the city school to make the kids feel special. He had no idea what it would truly be like to have someone pursue him, rather than them running away from him.

This was about to change. I watched as the hero stood up from the edge of the building, gazing out over the city again. I smiled to myself, concealed within the embrace of the alleyway. He didn’t even know I existed, didn’t even know I was here. I realised for a moment I looked just like any other ordinary villain, scheming from the shadows and plotting my plans. I rolled my eyes and shoved my hands in my pockets, vanishing from the alley.

I was no stranger to how these things worked.

I, however, was no classic villain. Villains are written with a purpose, usually to teach the protagonist a lesson, and to give them a challenge. They’re written with intentions in mind, not just to wreak havoc and cause a mess. Most villains don’t even know much about the hero; in any instance, they don’t consider the hero at all, blinded by the promise of the outcomes of their own plans.

This hero was too much of a cliché to be any good. A throwaway character, at best. Someone who’s personality you don't explore much other than the typical goodie two shoes who wants to make a difference in the world, yadda yadda.

How much fun would it be, I thought, if I were to step in and stir things up a bit? After all, I could do far more than any other person. I was no ordinary person in this world in any sense. No, I was far worse. Not in the self-conceited type, either, more in a sense of knowledge of the power I possessed. It was much more power than the hero himself had.

After all, he had obtained those powers from me, as well.

I could pose a very real threat to this world. I could pose a threat to the hero, and to every innocent civilian on the street. Everyone here was at my mercy. Who was there to stop me? My morals? Not those, after all, they didn’t matter here.

I reappeared back on the street a little ways away, hands in my pockets, allowing myself to be seen by the people of this world yet again. I had purposefully placed myself in the direct path of the hero, who should have been flying by any moment-

With an expected swoosh someone landed to my right and I paused, keeping a neutral face. “Shouldn’t you be home this late into the night?” He asked, and I shrugged. “I could say the same to you.” I turned to face him. He looked exactly as cliché as I expected, with the bright costume and perfect hair. He crossed his arms. “Fair enough. But it’s still dangerous out here, and you never know what could happen, especially at this hour.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “I can handle myself quite fine.”

He studied me. “I don’t doubt that. It still doesn’t mean that you’re all safe out here on your own.” I nodded and looked away out past the nearest building, at the visible cityline. “You know,” He started, “Most people would be freaking out right about now. You seem awfully calm.”

“Your story is decidedly bland,” I admitted, watching again for his reaction. He blinked at my statement, momentarily taken aback, shaking his head a bit. “I wasn’t aware I was a story.” “That’s because you’re not meant to. Either way… you need something essential. You need a villain.”

At that, he chuckled. “I’m very busy all day and night protecting this city. The last thing I need is a villain to cause a disarray.” “It’s quite frankly the only thing you need,” I replied, taking a step away and putting my hands back in my pockets. He raised his eyebrows.

“And why exactly do you think I need a villain?” He asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

“It’s difficult to explain. Don’t worry, I’ll see to it you have one very soon.” “Is that a threat?”

I tilted my head a bit. “More like a promise.”

His demeanour darkened, voice turning low. “I don’t know who you think you are…” “You won’t recognize me, but you know who I am. You’ve already seen some of what I can do and have yet to witness the rest. How, exactly, do you think you have your abilities?”

I watched his expression falter, and I smiled a bit. “I can take them away just as easily. It actually might be quite amusing.”

He stared at me for a moment, processing the revelation, before answering. “You can’t be the one responsible for my powers. I was born with them.” “That’s what you want to believe.” I made a hand motion like I was waving it off. “You should leave. It’s late, and don’t you have homework to do?” I smirked at the statement and turned around to leave.

He made no motion to stop me.

I knew, as I turned the corner to vanish from his sight, that I had planted a seed of doubt in his mind, the first crack in his invincible façade.

This was the necessary beginning. Not some thoroughly confident superhero who was completely capable of defeating villains, but rather a less stable character with some shred of human error, of emotion, of something not so typical. This was the perfect way to start things, and they would only go up from here.

As for the villain of the story, I was going to step in and fulfil that role. After all, who else could do as good a job, who else could be as powerful unless I allowed them to be?

My name? I do have one, but I’d prefer not to say it. Instead, you may know me as the author.

I am the author of this story, and as such I’m the perfect fit for a villain.