The Villain: Chapter 1

The first bonechilling chapter to The Villain. Please Enjoy.

I pushed my way into my room and tossed the gun onto the bed. Wow, what a night! I stumbled in to the bathroom and snatched up some bandages. I quickly cleaned and bound the scratch on my right arm. It was a good thing I lived alone.  Even being eighteen didn’t mean I would have any privacy if I was living with my family. I rented this apartment just a few months ago. It’s pretty cozy for a one bedroom and one bathroom apartment. It was the perfect place to hide out for a while.

 

            There was a knock at the door and I froze. Shoot. I glanced at the clock. It was time for school.

 

            “I’ll be out in a second!” I shouted. I raced into my bedroom and slipped on a new shirt. My old one had too much blood on the sleeve. I pulled the ponytail off my wrist and yanked my hair firmly up. Finally, I tossed my gun and mask into a trapdoor under my bed.

 

            “What took you so long?” The girl on my doorstep asked as I flung open the door and marched out.

 

            “Slept in,” I lied. The door across the hallway from mine opened as the girl’s dad stepped out. “Good morning Mr. Crawley.”

 

            Mr. Crawley mumbled in response as he attempted to slip by me. He bumped my right shoulder and I grimaced as pain shot down my arm. Mr. Crawley kept going.

 

            “Come on,” Elizabeth Crawley pulled me in the opposite direction. “We’re going to be late for school.”

 

We somehow made it to school on time and were in our desks with moments to spare.

 

            “Sorry about what happened earlier,” Elizabeth apologized. “He had some huge case he was working on and he let the suspect get away last night.”

 

            Seriously? He’s lucky I didn’t kill him last night. If I hadn’t seen his face before I pulled the trigger, he would be lying dead with a bullet through his head. It was bad enough that I couldn’t tell the building was booby-trapped.

 

            “Don’t worry about it. He’s always like that to me anyways,” I laughed. It was true. For some reason I just couldn’t make Mr. Crawley warm up to me. Maybe it was his detective’s intuition working.

 

            Class had started by now and as the teacher droned on, I found myself slowly drifting to sleep. Every few hour or so I’d wake up, change classrooms as the bells rang, then go back to sleep. It wasn’t until fourth block that I was forcefully poked awake.

 

            “Hey, Mathias, the bell just rang,” Elizabeth’s voice roused me.

 

            “What?” I mumbled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

 

            “Bell rang, time to leave,” Elizabeth answered. I sighed and slowly got to my feet and staggered toward the door, my limbs stiff from sleep. I pushed my way out of the classroom with Elizabeth following behind me. When we got to the end of the hall, Elizabeth turned to me.

 

            “Sorry Mathias, but I’m meeting up with my father at his work. You’ll have to walk home by yourself,” Elizabeth apologized.

 

            “It’s fine, have fun,” I told her as I pushed through the outside door. I turned toward the back football field while Elizabeth went in the opposite direction. My apartment was only a ten minute walk from the school, so I was okay walking.  I was just walking along the path by the football field.

 

            “Mathias Anderson,” I heard someone say and like an idiot, I stopped and looked around.  I soon noticed the kids sitting on the bleachers. I looked around to find I was alone except for these kids. Everyone else must have already gone home.

 

            One of the kids on the bleachers strode down till we were standing eye to eye.  Looking at the teens closer, I realized they were all dressed oddly, like punks with bandanas. This couldn’t be good.

 

            “You’re Mathias Anderson?” The teen asked with a surprisingly deep voice. “Look at this guys, this sissy has a ponytail!”

 

            I ground my teeth and forced myself to stay silent. I didn’t know what they wanted yet so I shouldn’t provoke them.

 

            “What do you want?” I growled. These idiots weren’t helping my lack of sleep.

 

            “We want a fight of course. We hear your pretty badass around here and were gonna prove that it ain’t true,” The teen answered smugly. I sighed.

 

            “Fine I’ll fight you, but first let’s get away from the school,” I told them. The teen seemed to way his options.

 

            “Alright,” The teen committed. “But only because I want you to fight me without any hindrances.” I led him to a grassy field, close to the school, but out of sight. I arranged myself on the opposite side of the twenty or so teens.

 

            “What’s with these numbers, afraid to face me myself?” I asked. The teenager, who I had decided was the leader, scowled.

 

            “I don’t need help from anyone to face you,” The leader strode forward, leaving the teens in their place.

 

            I waited for him to make the first move. Right after the leader took two steps forward and was only 3 or 4 feet away, I surged forward.

 

            I just love martial arts. There is so much grace to them. I had been trained intensely through some of them and could have been a master if I had stuck with it. Unfortunately I dropped out after getting my black belt in almost five different martial arts. These teens better know what’s coming for them.

 

            With a quick twist to the right and a chop to the back of the neck, the fight was over in three seconds. Their leader collapsed unconscious at my feet.

 

            “Impossible!” one of the onlookers shouted. “He lost!”

 

            “Who’s next?” I asked, smiling. No one looked eager to step forward. I guess it was my turn to move. I got into an offensive stance and prepared to attack.

 

            “Stop, please!” A voice begged me from behind. I whirled around. A blonde teen with a bandana kneeled on the ground in front of me. He was very muscular and I could tell he was pretty smart. Just seeing him reminded me about the gang I had heard about who had this supper tough leader that liked to wear bandanas. This couldn’t possibly be him, could it?

 

            “Please, I beg you, don’t kill them!” The teen begged once again. Sheesh, he was over reacting. I wasn’t planning on killing them, just letting them take a quick nap. The rumors about me must be getting pretty extreme if he thought I would kill someone over such a simple thing as this.

 

            “You’re their boss, then?” I asked as I took a couple step forward. The teen looked up sharply but then looked away.

 

            “Yes,” He answered. I yanked him off the ground and pulled him close to my face.

 

            “How about we make a deal?” I told him. The teen looked furious but he simply clenched his jaw silently. “I won’t kill them this time as long as I never see or hear from you again. If I do, well, I don’t make the same deal twice.”

 

            The teen nodded slowly and I dropped him back on the ground. He jumped to his feet and stalked over to his men. They all left quietly, with someone half carrying-half dragging the teen I had knocked unconscious away.

 

            A sharp pain on my arm caused me to notice my wound had reopened. Argh, I can’t just go home like this.

 

            I headed toward Rite Aid to grab some fresh bandages. I caught a few side glances as I slipped into the store and headed to the band aid isle. I bought a huge roll, knowing I would need it later.

 

            I decided now would be a really good time to just lay low for a while, so I was almost back home when I noticed the door to my apartment was ajar. Someone had been in my apartment. I pushed open the door and examined the damage.

 

            The room was a wreck. Things lay thrown across the floor, furniture had been overturned and the sheets and mattress of my bed lay in the corner.

 

            I slowly looked down at the barely visible trapdoor that had once been under my bed. It looked fine but I couldn’t check in case they, whoever they were, had planted any bugs in my room.

 

            I snatched my mattress off my wall and tossed it back in its place, covering up the trapdoor. After rebinding my scratch, I plopped down on the bed for some well needed sleep.

 

            When I opened my eyes again, the room was dark. I glanced around and found my alarm clock tossed onto the floor, but still on. Midnight. Eurgh, I had such weird sleep patterns.

 

            A noise from the hallway distracted me. I hopped out of bed and opened the door. Elizabeth’s door was wide open but all was silent. Weird.

 

            I slowly approached Elizabeth’s door. It looked like nobody was home but something was going down. I glanced around the doorway to find their apartment a wreck too.

 

            “Elizabeth!” I called out. There was no answer and the apartment gave off an empty feeling. I heard a noise in the other room. Okay, not so empty after all.

 

            I jumped into the bedroom only to find the curtains flapping in the breeze. I raced to the window in time to see a dark figure slink into the night. Dang, lost him.

 

            Someone cleared their throat behind me and I whirled around. Elizabeth and her dad were standing in the bedroom doorway. Mr. Crawley looked disappointed. Did he think I had done this? I looked deep into his eyes. Yes,yes he did.

 

 

 

            I was handcuffed and shoved in a police car. Shoot. We drove straight to the police station where I was then transferred into an interrogation room. I tried to stay calm but that’s sort of hard when you’re on the FBI’s most wanted list and got taken in for breaking and entering. I don’t want to end up like Al Capone who was taken in for tax evasion.

 

            I jumped as the interrogation room’s door opened. A man in a suit and tie with a folder walked in and took the seat across from me. The door was quickly shut, not that it mattered since I was handcuffed to the table.

 

            “You said your name was Mathias Anderson?” The man asked once he was settled. I just nodded silently and he continued. “You can call me Detective Burns.”

 

            “Okay,” I said. I met him confidently in the eye.

 

            “So, What were you doing in Detective Crawley’s apartment?” Detective Burns asked. I sighed.

 

            “I already told him that I woke up and heard a noise from his apartment. So, like the caring neighbor that I am, I went to check it out. The apartment was trashed when I got there,” I explained.

 

            “Did you touch anything?” He asked.

 

            “No,” I answered.

 

            “Was anyone else there?”

 

            “No,” I lied after a quick hesitation. In this situation, the less they thought I knew, the better.

 

            “Did you see anyone suspicious?”

 

            “No,” I lied again.

 

            “There was something missing from Detective Crawley’s,” Detective Burns admitted. He carefully judged my uninterested reaction.

 

            “Oh?” I sounded bored.

 

            “Do you know of the name Phantom?” Detective Burns asked. This was starting to get interesting.

 

            “You mean like a ghost?” I asked innocently.

 

            “Almost. It’s a codename for one of the worst criminals of all time,” thanks for the compliment. “Because it’s like he slips through our fingers every time. There was conflict between Phantom and Detective Crawley a few nights ago and now the case file that was in the apartment across from yours is missing. Phantom’s case file.” Detective Burns watched my every reaction. I acted the best I could under the pressure.

 

            Really though, I couldn’t think of anyone who would steal my case file. It would be no use to anyone. Unless. . . Unless it was simply to get my attention. Now that was an interesting theory. I’d have to work on it later.

 

            “Gosh, if you put it like that, I’ll do whatever I can to help,” I announced. Detective Burns watched me carefully then seemed to at least pretend to buy into my bullshit.

 

            “Then it is imperative that you tell us every detail of what happened last night,” Detective Burns leaned forward eagerly.

 

            “But I can’t remember anything else sir,” I acted distraught, as if I was trying to remember. “It all happened so fast.”

 

            Detective Burns sat back and sighed. “I guess we’ll have to take this slower then. I’ll give you a little time to collect your thoughts.”

 

            Him and another police officer brought me to the basement of the police station, where there were a few holding cells.

 

            “Wait, why do I have to stay here? I’m not being charged with anything, am I?” I asked sharply.

 

            “We just need to finish processing the crime scenes, then you can go home,” Detective Burns answered. Crime Scenes?! As in plural! They were going through my apartment too. Shoot. Now all I could do is wait and hope they didn’t find the poorly hidden trap door.  I grumbled for a while and waited for the police to come in and drag me to jail for being Phantom.

 

            Finally, Detective Burns did come back, but not in a way I suspected. He unlocked my cell and waved me out. No handcuffs.

 

            “What’s going on sir?” I asked as he led me up to the offices. I memorized all the exits in case of a quick getaway.

 

            “We need your help,” Detective Burns shoved a small microphone into my hands. “Detective Crawley and his daughter are being held hostage in your apartment. The culprit asked for you on condition of their safe return.”

 

            Elizabeth! This was getting way out of proportion. Who the hell would do something like this? I may end up killing them at this rate. It’s too much trouble for what it’s worth.

 

            “What do I do?” I asked, staring at the microphone in my hands.

 

            “Hide that somewhere in your clothes. It will allow us to listen in on your conversation and come in after you if anything goes wrong,” Detective Burns grabbed his jacket and pulled me into the elevator. He pressed the ground floor button.

 

            “Why me?!” I exclaimed. The detective had to think I was innocent.

 

            “Look kid, I don’t know. We can’t send anyone in with you in case he kills the hostages, so you’ll be alone. We’ll be backing you up the best we can. Good luck.” Detective Burns shoved me into the back of a cop car and jumped into the front seat.

 

            We drove in silence on the way to my apartment. I took the time to strategize my next move. I had a bullet proof vest on under my shirt like always, thankfully the cops hadn’t notice, but I’d rather not get shot. I definitely wasn’t going to wear the microphone because it could give away my identity. I tossed it onto the seat. Something was going on here that I didn’t like, not one bit.

 

            We pulled up to the sidewalk and Detective Burns let me out.

 

            “Once again, good luck,” Detective Burns opened the building’s door for me. “I trust you can find your way up to your own apartment.”

 

            I nodded and stepped carefully down the hallway. Police tape had roped off Mr. Crawley’s doorway. My door, though, was ajar and the tape had been ripped off and lay tattered on the ground.

 

            I looked back down the hallway at the door Detective Burns had just closed. Hopefully he didn’t see the microphone they gave me sitting in the backseat of the cop car. I just needed a little privacy for this one.

 

            I ground my teeth anxiously and pushed open my apartment door, my nerves on edge. The room looked like I had left it, messy. There were only a few differences.

 

            Elizabeth and Mr. Crawley lay bound and gagged in the corner. They were still squirming around, which was a good sign.

 

            My mattress had been tossed haphazardly back against the wall. Where my bed had once sat, above my trapdoor, stood a blonde haired man. My breath caught in my throat.

 

            “You should be dead,” I announced coldly. “I killed you.” The blonde haired man smirked before me. He looked just as I remembered him.

 

            His once long blonde hair had been cropped short and lay choppily down his forehead. He still wore the same ratty t-shirt and jeans style he was so fond of. Same dark sneakers falling apart. Even his sword, his weapon of choice and a three foot long blade that scared the s**t out of me, was sharp and at the ready on his waist.

 

            “Oh yes, you almost did,” He snapped in return. He pulled down the collar of his shirt to expose a whit scar, just above his heart. “Thankfully your shot was never that good.”

 

            I paled as I stared at the little scar. My head replayed that shot over and over again. My best friend going down, dead, yet here he was in front of me.

 

            He pulled his collar back up and reached down to the floor. Not to the floor, I realized, but to my trapdoor. All eyes in the room were on him.

 

            He pulled up the trapdoor and yanked out my mask and gun. Mr. Crawley and Elizabeth went silent in the corner. I ground my teeth again.

 

            After a quick, uninterested look at my mask, the man tossed it to me. I caught it and swiftly threw it to the floor. It wouldn’t do me any good now. The man was left glaring at my gun. It was the same gun that shot him about a year ago.

 

            “What are you doing here Drew?” I asked in the silence. Drew whirled on me quickly.

 

            “Don’t use that name! You are no longer my friend!” Drew freaked out which was most unlike him. I flinched unintentionally. Drew held up my gun, his finger on the trigger. The safety was off and the gun was loaded. “Now, I’m going to kill you the same way you tried to kill me.”

 

            I froze and had a somewhat moment of relief. He was going to shoot at my heart which wasn’t good but it was better than my head. A shot to my head would kill me instantly, but a shot to my heart would hopefully be caught by my bulletproof vest.

 

            Drew leveled his gun at my heart. He shot.

 

            The bullet hit me right above the heart, exactly where I had shot Drew. My bulletproof vest saved me from most of it, but not all of it.  I was knocked off my feet and ended up sprawled on the floor.

 

            I moaned and Drew came over and stood above me. He aimed for the same shot again. I knew he wouldn’t miss, not at this range. My chest was already aching like I had been hit by a truck.

 

            He shot once again. The bullet went straight through this time. I would have screamed in agony if I could, instead I just coughed up blood.

 

            I was fading fast. My body was already numb. A pool of blood began to form below me, soaking me through.

 

            “Goodbye Mathias,” Drew whispered. I blacked out; sure I had seen a tear.

 

Author's Note

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