One

Daniel mysteriously appears at Castielle's home, asking for help.

Castielle Magdalena

I need help.” Daniel says, breathing hard as he kneels in the mud.

I crouch down to his level, “And why is that?”

“Because there’s someone out there that I have to deal with. You might not know this, but you aren’t the worst person I’ve had to face. And I. . .” he trails off, turning his head away from me.

“And you what?” I say, half curious.

“I-I-I. . .” Daniel makes a choking sound, and his shoulders shake violently. Crying, I realize vaguely. Daniel is crying. The hero is crying. I lean forward, taking in his face. The cuts on his forehead and cheek seem shallow, but now that I look closer, his eyes are milky and unfocused. My blood runs cold.

“They blinded you?” I whisper, horrified.

He nods, tears spilling over his cheeks. I shake my head, clearing my brain of nonsense.

“Why do you need my help? Don’t you have hero friends out there somewhere? They can help you.” I patronize.

His head falls even lower, “They’re dead.”

I stop, thinking about my options. With a sigh, I grip his arm below the elbow and heave him to his feet. “If you are lying to me, I’ll do a lot worse than blind you.”

He nods weakly and I roll my eyes, “You’re going to clean up this mess you call a body, and then you’re going to tell me everything. If you leave out a detail, I’ll rip out your tongue and feed you to my cats. If you betray me, you won’t know what peace feels like. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” he breathes out, my fast pace a little too much for him.

I rip open the door to my home, and shove Daniel inside. He falls to the ground. I sigh deeply, “Oh for the love!”

I pull him back to his feet and lead him to the bathroom. I run the water in the tub and shove him onto the covered toilet. “Don’t move.”

I grab a towel and some sweats for him and come back to the bathroom. I sit on the counter, “And now we wait”

Neither of us say a word as I watch the water slowly fill the tub. I even take the liberty to dump some essential oils in the bath. Once it’s completely full, I shut the water off and turn to Daniel, even though he can’t see me looking at him.

“It’s ready, don’t die in my bathroom,” I say. “However, if you do, I’m taking full credit.”

I fling the door shut, and sit impatiently on the couch, attempting to read a book. I can’t seem to keep my attention focused on the words, they seem to blend together on the page. I sigh angrily and shove the cream bookmark in between the pages. I spring up and go to the kitchen, questions swirling in my mind. Who blinded Daniel? What are they doing that’s so bad he comes to me for help? I put four slices of bread in the toaster. Who is out there upstaging me? I yank the jar of peanut butter from the cabinet, the last question the most concerning. The toast pops up and I quickly pull it out, my fingers stinging from the heat. The bathroom door opens, and Daniel walks out, the pants too long, and the shirt too tight.

I smirk, “There’s nothing in your path, go straight and you’ll reach the kitchen.”

He walks with uncertainty, his arms out, bracing for any impact. He touches the counter, and I pull out a barstool. He sits himself down and I put a plate of peanut butter toast down in front of him. Helen jumps on the the counter, and I push her head away from Daniel’s plate.

“Helen, no. You can’t just try to lick people’s toast!” I scold.

As if on cue, Frannie jumps up too, “Frannie! Not you too!”

Daniel looks very confused, “Sorry, they have a habit of eating peanut butter. I think they have an addiction.”

He picks up his toast and starts to eat. Helen nudges his arm and he jumps. I sigh, “Helen! Stop being so nosy, you can have some, too.”

I put some peanut butter on the corner of my plate, Helen and Frannie pouncing on it.

“Who is Frannie and Helen?” Daniel asks.

I laugh, “Oh! My cats, Helen is the one that rubbed her face on your arm.”

He visibly relaxes, “That makes me feel much better. These are the ones you threatened to feed me to?”

I smile, “Yes, I’m glad you remembered. Peanut butter is like their crack. Anyways, you still--Frannie! Share with your sister! You still need to tell me everything about this other dude who is trying to upstage me.”

He swallows, his shoulders tensing, “He’s awful, cruel, deadly--”

I cut him off, angry, “I didn’t ask you to compliment him, what is he doing that’s so bad and what’s his name?”

Daniel shivers, “He calls himself Wendigo.”

I raise an eyebrow, “He calls himself Wendigo? Really?”

He nods.

I snort, “Sounds like a d****e, nobody comes up with their own name, you let the news decide it for you. The nastier you are, the better the name. All you have to do is get noticed. You could massacre a post office, stab the president in the face, maybe even burn down a children’s hospital, it isn’t hard. He must be trying too hard. I wonder how long it took for him to come up with such a lame name. . .”

He blinks, looking in the direction of my sink, “My friends and I always knew you as ‘Elizabeth Bathory’ you know, the serial killer who bathed in the blood of young peasant women?”

I grin, “Of course I know, I love my name. However, you don’t choose your name. The news chooses it. They saw me casually laying in a pool of blood, and Elizabeth was the first person to pop in their heads. This guy doesn’t strike me as a Wendigo, they eat flesh, you know. They actually start out as men, alone in the woods with their camping buddies, middle of winter. The group runs out of food, one starts to go crazy, and starts killing and eating his friends. That makes them evolve into this long-limbed creature, with sharp teeth and the ability to move very fast. And then, all that they crave is the sweet taste of human meat. The only way you can kill one is to light the sucker on fire.”

He gulps, “Why do you know this?”

I roll my eyes, “Because, lore is cool. Plus, when you’re not afraid to hurt people, you can experiment. I happen to have a Wendigo in my basement.”

He chokes, “What!?”

I sigh, “Don’t sound so surprised, you’ve seen some of the things I’ve made. Like the Ridderak. Remember him? He’s down there, too.”

Daniel’s face is suddenly very, very pale, “How could I forget, that thing tore a chunk out of my side.”

I smile at the memory, “Yeah, is there still a scar?”

Daniel rubs the left side of his stomach absently, “How big is your basement?”

“Twelve floors, each about the size of a football field. The second floor is where the lab is.” I reply, taking another bite of toast. “But the first floor is the training room, I have to keep on my toes if I want to truly make it in villany.”

“How do you have so much when there’s no record of you besides in the news? I couldn’t find a single thing about you, other than the fact that the media calls you Elizabeth Bathory, and that you live here. And I didn’t need to look that up, your home isn’t hard to miss.” he asks, baffled.

I laugh, “You can’t find much these days, Daniel.”

He deflates a little, “I meant before.”

“Right,” I snicker, “let’s just say I’m careful. I know what I’m doing.”

“But how do you have so much money? It makes no sense!”

I shake my head, “Being the bad guy pays. You know, credit card fraud isn’t hard, and neither is scamming old people. I don’t have to do much, and what person is going to turn my utilities off because I don’t pay? What bank is going to try to take my house? My car? No one, because they’ve got at least a little sense. At first there was a few, but I put their heads on pikes outside. Naturally, I let them rot, the skulls are still on the fence, they’re cracked and messed up from the weather, but they’re hanging on.”

He puts his food down, “I think I remember those.”

I breathe a laugh, “Okay, so onto the next thing, what’s he doing that’s so bad? It takes a lot to be worse than me, you know that.”

He angles his head downwards, “He’s been picking us off. I’m the only one left alive.”

“Picking who off? You’re hero buddies? Family? Friends? I need the specifics, you can’t leave out the gory details, Daniel. You know I love those.”

“Everyone associated with me and the team. He started with distant family, then got closer, and closer. He wiped out everyone except for me.” He whispers.

“And me.” I chime in.

His head rises, this time looking at my fridge, his face the epitome of confusion, “You?”

I fein hurt, “Well I’m associated with you! What was that word you called me? Nemesis? Evil? C’mon, you went the whole nine, even tried to lock me up.”

Annoyance ripples off of him, “I don’t think he would try to kill you.”

I sigh, “I know how people think. Try to put yourself in his shoes--”

“You want me to empathize?” he asks in disbelief.

“What? No, I want you to use your nearly non-existent wit.” I shake my head, “If I’m the only other person who really knows you now, it’s a pretty safe thing to say that you would come to me. If he’s as smart as you say, he’ll realize this. Whether he comes after me or not, that’s a different story. We could play into his hands if we work together, and at the same time, we might play into his hands is we don’t. A big game of risk. I say, we find where he lives and blow it up.”

“We can’t blow it up! There’s people all around his building. It’s downtown!” He screeches.

I put my head in my hands, “Why do you have to be so heroic? I thought we were in this for revenge?”

“Revenge? Why would I be in this for revenge?”

His statement baffles me, “Why wouldn’t you be in this for revenge? I thought he killed all of your friends and family, that means we’re going to deliver a painful death.”

“NO! I don’t kill.” Daniel exclaims.

“Well I do.” I mumble. “Wait, so if you’re not in this for revenge, why the hell are you in this for?”

“Does the word ‘justice’ ring a bell?”

“Nope, no bells. Just the longing for a good torture.” I respond cheerily.

He looks mildly disgusted “You’re questioning my motives, but what are yours? You never said why you suddenly have the desire to rip his lungs out.”

“Are you that oblivious? This guy’s upstaging me! I can’t have him getting all the publicity! Has the news figured out who this guy is yet?” I jump for the remote to the TV.

I flip to CNN, and drag Daniel to the couch with me. I plop down, staring intently at the brown haired woman speaking, “We just received word that the woman found was Muse Eden, Daniel Eden’s sister. The name ‘Wendigo’ was written on the wall in Muse’s blood. We haven’t been able to find Daniel, and we think Wendigo is a new fiend, for it was the same name found at the scenes of the Daniel’s other family members, members of the Visionary Alliance’s crime scenes, and their families as well. Who is this ‘Wendigo’? And what will they do next?”

I turn off the TV, “Damnit! He’s already got some quality coverage, I’m going to have to work hard to get back to the top, but first I’m going to find him and deliver an excruciating, drawn-out death. Starting with his vocal cords, screams get annoying after a few minutes.”

“You aren’t the least bit concerned about your friends and family?” He asks, alarmed.

“You haven’t been able to figure out who I am, do you really think this new guy will be able to? Speaking of which, I can probably take off this mask, it’s not like you can see me. Helen and Frannie are accustomed to seeing me barefaced, this is probably very strange to them.”

I pop the delicate looking masquerade mask off of my face, setting it down on the coffee table, “Much better, my face feels free without it’s silver cage.”

“You act like someone forced you to wear it.” Daniel mutters.

“Do you realize that there are politicians who are pedophiles? It’s easier being a pedophile than it is being a ruthless killer. Which is messed up, by the way. I kill people, yeah, but I don’t rape anybody. For some reason, those creeps are viewed as being better. So yeah, I wear a mask, because unlike them, I’ll get thrown in jail for my crimes. That’s not even going into the misogynistic factors. So, on top of that, because I’m female, I’ll get even more jail-time. And that doesn’t sound like fun.”

“Unfortunately, everything that just came out of your mouth is true. However, no one forced you to wear it.” He replies.

“That’s where you’re wrong, society has pressured me.”

He snorts, “Society? They should be pressuring you.”

I sigh, “That’s not my point! I’m pointing out the error of their ways. I’m not nearly as bad as these other low-life criminals.”

Daniel looks lost, “Since when are you not a criminal?”

“Jesus, would you use your brain! I actually know what I’m doing, they do not. That is what makes me the better criminal. I am not denying my illegal tendencies, just pointing out that I’m better than the other fools who attempt to overshadow me.” I explain bitterly.

“Narcissism. Nice.” he huffs. “A classy lady, you are.”

“I am when I want to be,” I defend. “I think it’s in your brain capacity to understand that I do not really care about the opinions that belong to people of a. . . let’s call it, ‘lesser quality’?”

He seems to retract into himself, “So now I’m lesser quality?”

“You act like you don’t have ears!” I sigh heavily, “Of course you’re lesser quality, you haven’t succeeded in throwing me in jail. I, on the other hand, have succeeded in many murders and heists. I think that counts as me being the better individual.”

“Better? Since when are you a good person?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, “Not like that! I didn’t mean a good citizen, I meant in the other, more important aspects. Like cunning, and extraordinary brilliance, we’re not discussing my loose morals again, Daniel.”

“You confuse me.”

“Good, then you’ll be prepared for my plan.” I respond, thinking of all the beasties in my basement.

“Whatever you’re planning, I don’t think we should do it.”

“I haven’t even suggested the plan yet!” I cry.

Author's Note

If there is a grammatical or spelling error, please point it out with a smiley face!!! :)