#writblt

Request:

The hero glanced at the hologram, then up to the sign above them. Cold air kisses their cheeks as the smell of crying grass permeates the air. The signboard lets out a small creak after a gush of wind slams against it, giving more chills down the hero’s spine. Are they in the right place? Out of all places to go, the villain visited this old, eerie-looking cemetery. 

They couldn’t help but gulp, striding forward to the entrance as their eyes wandered from the endless field of gravestones. The rusty gate closed out of nowhere, while the fog continued to cover the other side of the cemetery. This is giving them pure creeps. What if the villain has dug their grave for preparation? They shouldn’t have come here without their sidekick. 

“Hello?” the hero said, scared of their voice when it echoed back to them. They glanced back and followed the paved way, ignoring the death stares of the crows above the electric fire. Ducks eventually quack in front of them, running into the river separating the forests and the land of corpses. This place doesn’t look that scary at all.

Soft sniffles of a person and caws of crows eventually filled the silence… they kinda take it back now. The crows flew to a certain gravestone, cawing as if following the music of the person’s cries. The hero can’t help but walk towards the place where the birds flocked. There, they find a familiar silhouette of darkness. Black hair, tendrils, and clothes, crying in front of a headstone.

“Villain?” the hero called, walking back as the tendrils began hissing and poking them to go away. The villain took a sharp breath, calmed their trembling body, and wiped their tears. They turned to the hero with their hollowed jet eyes red in tears. 

“Hey, hero. Nice seeing you–uh… here?” the villain said, cheeriness visible in their voice, yet a hint of pain sings in there. Deeply hidden. 

“Are you okay?” the hero asked, crossing their arms. A bad thing to do when someone is mourning in their face. They do not know what to say, whether to sit and comfort the villain, hug them, or none of the above. The hero would choose none of the above in no time, but the villain looking like the entire world fell apart in their eyes makes the hero’s heart wrench in pain.

The villain stared at them for a moment as if they were hallucinating before they nodded. “Yes… yes, I am okay.” 

Their eyebrows creased, their eyes observing the villain from head to toe. “You are not okay.” They said, frowning as the villain tensed up at their statement. “What happened?”

The hero didn’t expect tears to flow down the villain’s eyes after asking such a question. Was that a sensitive question? Did they make it worse? Questions flooded the hero’s mind, their hands moving on their own. Their hands reached down to engulf the villain in a tight hug, shushing them in a gentle lull. 

“He is gone…” the villain sobbed. “He is gone because of me. I should’ve listened to him. I should’ve never gone inside that pathetic laboratory.” The villain buried their face deeper in the crook of the hero’s neck. Icy tears wet the hero’s outfit. Their hand wriggled around the calming tendrils behind the villain. 

“If it wasn’t for me. If I listened to him–” the hero held the villain tighter, letting their nemesis break in their arms like a rag doll full of emotions. Draining the tears they haven’t squeezed out for years, leaving themself helpless, and begging for the pain to stop. Guilt and hopelessness painted the villain and sculpted them into who they were, as anger brushed them in crimson red for the last time. Creating the villain.

“I hate everyone…” the villain said, pulling away from the hero’s embrace. Their gazes met as a light shone inside the villain’s hollowed eyes. The hero can’t help but caress their cheeks and breathtakingly admire them. If the hero could describe the villain in one word, despite their puffy eyes and ugly black tendrils scattered on their back, the word is ethereal.

The villain broke eye contact while the hero’s admiration remained unnoticed. “Your organization’s experiment made me like this. I hate your father and your family for that.” They paused, taking a deep breath as they slumped down, then looked back up again. “But why can’t I hate you as I despise them?”

What if the villain enjoys playing their game and likes having them as opponents so he keeps reincarnating them to continue the game.

The villain draws his power from manipulating life and death and has chosen those two to be his eternal source of power, killing them and bringing them back.