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The Daily Events in the Life of a Supervillain

A possibly failing one.

By And I am NightmarePublished 3 years ago Updated 3 years ago 8 min read
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The Daily Events in the Life of a Supervillain
Photo by Sérgio Alves Santos on Unsplash

Being a supervillain ain’t easy. Lots of fighting and witty comebacks and stuff. Coming up with good reasons to be bad. Bad reasons not to be good.

Thats why, right now, I’m doing absolutely nothing. Well, if sitting at a bar and throwing back junk that you barely taste as it swings down your throat can be called nothing. Certainly nothing for me compared to what I’m used to. So, relaxing, mostly, at least until she came up. So there was this chick named Layla, couldn’t be more than twenty. She was supposedly some kid genius who ran around saving the city and stuff. She said I stumped her. Every since she’d figured out Gravestone is actually Alastar Prince , she’d followed me around, trying to get me to join her little group of superhuman freaks. Use their powers for good and dumb stuff. But I’m no sucker. Technically, I just turned nineteen a week ago, and I’m not allowed to drink, but after three solid years living as a supervillain, creating a fake identity so I could get a beer now and then was worth it. She’s got this short blond hair and blue eyes, real cliche like. She pops up next to me and grabs a bar stool like I invited her into my personal space or something.

“Alastar.”


“Sup.” I replied.

“What are you doing here? It’s a school day, and besides, you’re only nineteen!”

I swallowed the last of my drink and wince. God, what was this stuff? “Look, kid, I don’t know where or why you got my personal information, but you showing up and pretending you know me isn’t gonna make me leave. I want a drink, and I want to be left alone, okay?”

“Okay, one: I’m older than you. Two: I’ve just come here to talk to you. I know there’s good in you.”

“I think all that’s in me at this point is Red Bull, ramen, and spite.” I took another swig from my cup, trying not to feel sick. Yeah, I’d had way to much of this stuff. She sighed.

“You’re impossible.”


“I know. Why do you even bother?”


“Why aren’t you trying to kill me?”

“Hmm?”

“Why aren’t you trying to kill me? You’re a supervillain. I’m a hero. You should be trying to kill me.”


“Look, I’m pretty sure I’m drunk, and not to mention half dead from the last time we had a tussle. Why the hell would I be trying to kill you?! I can barely stand! And I really, really want to enjoy-“ I motioned at my cup. “Whatever stuff this is, in peace.”


“Good time to talk then, I guess.”

“Why?”

“You’re in no position to fight me-“


“I said I don’t want-“

“And when people are drunk, they often spill secrets.”

I heaved a dramatic sigh and leaned back in my seat. “I’m not going to talk to you.”

“Fine. One question and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Deal.” I said.

“My question is, what turned you to the dark side?”


I snorted. “Dark side, girl?!”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”


“You mean not doing everything you ask me too.”


“I mean not killing people!”

“I haven’t killed anyone in a while.” But that did hit home a bit.

“My point exactly.” She said smugly. God, I hate her, I thought. Why were blond always so smug? “So?”

“So what?”

“My question.”


I sighed. “I failed.”

“You failed what? Your family? Yourself? Your lover?”


“Developmental biology.” It was true: after I’d failed that I went and tried to find a job because there was obviously no way I was getting that scholarship that I needed. The job market was damn competitive and this was the best paying job I’d found yet. I was still struggling to get through college, but it was one of those Mondays and I decided I had to catch a break sometime.

She frowned in a way I guessed meant she didn’t believe me.

“Okay, I answered your question, go away.”
She pushed herself out of the bar stool.

“I’ll have my eyes on you, Alastar. Someday you will be helping us, whether you like it or not.” Then she left the bar, leaving me to stare drunkenly at the pictures of bulls and matadors on the wall.

It was dark by the time I got home. I pulled off my shirt and threw it into the dirty laundry. My back was stinging worse than ever. I looked over my shoulder in the mirror. Thick, bloody scratches ran down my shoulders and back. Damn it. Yeah, I tried to rob the Brinsten Bank, but Layla and her sick freaks tried to stop me. I got slammed into a coupla buildings and made away with a whole fifteen bucks. Sometimes the job just don’t pay. I could already feel the hangover starting to hit me. I threw up in the sink. Whatever. Probably better than holding whatever junk I’d downed in the bar in. I dropped down on my stomach on my bed. I lived in a tiny, dirty condo rise in the city. That was another thing I had to pay for. My college didn’t room. Sick.

I closed my eyes, trying to relax. There was a knock on the door. I cursed and rose to open it. It was another girl, someone I knew I’d seen before, but my hangover was making it hard to think.

“Hey!” She said as soon as the door opened. Not another blond, I thought. “I’m Jackal, from downstairs, remember?”

“Uhh…”
She leaned away from me, nose crinkled. “You’ve been drinking.”


“How perceptive.” I leaned my head against the doorframe. “What do you want?”

“My dad wants to remind you that you’re due for rent tomorrow.”
I remembered her now. She was the landlord’s daughter. Rent tomorrow? How was that possible? “Okay.” I said. She rolled her eyes at me on last time before shutting my own door in my face. I threw myself down on the bed again and winced. I really needed to put something on my back. I stood up and looked through my bathroom, knowing I wouldn’t find anything. I didn’t. I had to get some sleep for tomorrow. I gave myself a quick shower and took a dose of melatonin. Yeah, I’d been trying to stop, but I did have a really hard time sleeping, and I didn’t really have the time to focus on breaking a bad habit. It wasn’t like I was on drugs or anything. I may have been a supervillain, but I did have morals. Okay, that’s not really true, but I couldn’t spare the money for drugs anyway, so I just never tried them. Someday, I’d be out of debt with college, and then I’d be free to do what I want. Anyways, I didn’t really like taking melatonin. It scared me. I was seriously claustrophobic, and when I took it, there was just waves of artificial exhaustion washing over me, and it freaked me out. But I needed to sleep, so I took it anyway. Yeah, maybe it seems like a pathetic excuse, but it was really hard to sleep when you were in pain like that. My back started bleeding again after my shower. And I had several broken fingers as well. I probably should have gone to the hospital. But I had been through worse. By the time I finally fell asleep, it was almost midnight.

Someone was banging on my door. I groaned and pulled myself out of bed. It was probably the landlord. I opened the door.

“Yes?” Shit. There was a guy almost twice my height, and six times thicker than me. Wow. “Uhh...”


“Ah. Mr. Alastar. So glad to finally meet you.”

Oh, he’d better not be the police. I started to reach for the gun on my nightstand, but his hands shoot out faster than I can blink and grab my arm. They cover half of it easily.

“Oh, no need Mr. Prince. I’m only here to offer you a job. One I’m sure you will take. It’s quite well paying.”


“Oh, yeah? How well paying?”

“A thousand dollars a week.”


“What?!” I could pay off my college debt within a couple of weeks. I suddenly realize I’m still not wearing a shirt. Oh, damn it. I scramble to put my shirt back on.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Prince. I already know all about you.”

“Oh. Uh… okay.” What did that mean? He knew I was a supervillain? He knew Layla and her freaky band spent their free time slamming me into buildings? Okay, that sounded pretty bad. I was trying to steal from banks a lot. It wasn’t all their fault.

“Well?”

“What’s the job?”


“I want you to… help me .”


“With what?”

“I want you to work for me: as a… sort of a hit man.”

Damn it. I hated killing people. But what happens if I refuse him.

“I know your current position.” He said. “No worries. You could continue whatever you want to during the day, but I doubt you’ll need to. But during the night, you would… tie some ends for me.”

I shook my head, backing away and reaching for my gun. “I don’t kill people.”


“You can put it anyway you want. I’ve seen how you shoot. And I don’t think you’ll mind…”


I shake my head again. “Sorry. I’m not into that.”

He looked at me for a while. He was gonna attack me anytime now. But he just nodded.

“I’m must admit defeat, Mr. Alastair. For now.”

I watched him walk away down the hall. That was easy. Too easy. I knew he would be back. But for now, I’m going to get ready. Time to be a supervillain.

If you liked this at all, plz heart and subscribe if you do I will try to find and subscribe to you! Seeing that people are reading and enjoying my stories I publish almost every day so there will be plenty of new content(:

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About the Creator

And I am Nightmare

I am a budding writer, and still only a teen. I love any support that comes my way. I am also a Dark Empath, psychologist in training, and baker.

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