Villain (Book 1): Villain 1

by Laddusaw, Cole

  Deimos chuckled painfully.

  “Yeah. She’s a firecracker, that one,” he muttered before blacking out.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Deimos woke in the sick bay of Redbeard’s Revenge several hours later. The first thing he saw wasn’t the face of his loving wife, or even that of the ship’s medic Veronica, but it was instead the undulating cream and black face of Sasha staring unblinkingly down at him.

  “He’s awake,” Sasha said unceremoniously.

  Veronica shoved Sasha to the side and leaned over Deimos.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I tried to keep them out but they were persistent.”

  Deimos carefully tilted his head down, blinking away a foggy haze. As his throbbing migraine softened and his blurred vision cleared, all he could see were people. The med bay was filled wall to wall with tightly packed villains and henchmen all clambering around his bedside trying to get a look at him.

  Deimos looked to his left. Siren was at his side. Tears filled her eyes and she gripped tightly onto his hand.

  “Hey, hot stuff,” she whispered.

  Beside Siren was Terry, Glenn, and Harold. Each of them were pushed up tightly against the bed by the sheer magnitude of Alexander’s frame, who stood directly behind them. He was patched up with only some sports tape and several bandages. Deimos looked at him in disbelief. Alexander shrugged.

  At the foot of his bed was Eve and Yasuke. Eve beamed at Deimos through happy tears, an emotion he never thought he would see from her, and certainly not for him. To her left was The Buzzard, who grunted contentedly, and Captain C, who Deimos was not surprised to see crying even harder than Siren. Seated on Captain C’s shoulder like a fuzzy parrot was Professor Paws, who scrambled upon seeing Deimos stir in his bed. Captain C let him down and he immediately snuggled up next to Deimos on his hospital bed.

  Sasha and Aria were squeezed tightly over Deimos’ headboard, staring at him blankly. Deimos was honored that they found him more interesting than their phones for once, though he would have preferred that they had put on some clothes.

  Spread throughout the remainder of the room, filling up every corner and spilling out through the door and into the hall, were all of the henchmen Deimos had grown to know over the past three months. They all smiled and looked at him with reverence.

  “Shit,” Deimos croaked. “Did I die?”

  “Almost!” Terry piped up. “Veronica said if you got here twenty minutes later you-”

  Glenn elbowed Terry in his stomach.

  “Shut up, man,” he whispered.

  “Yeah, are you trying to give the boss a heart attack?” Harold grumbled.

  Deimos turned as white as a white sheet. He looked to Veronica, horrified.

  “You’ll be fine,” Veronica said unconvincingly. “Just take it easy for a few weeks… Or months.”

  Captain C shouted boisterously, “Shouldn’t be a problem with Hans dead, eh lads?”

  His pirate crew cheered and shouted in agreement, while the others in the room nodded respectfully.

  “Hans is dead?” Deimos croaked.

  “Yeah, you don’t remember?” Terry asked. “Triceratop said he killed him himself! Snapped his neck like a-”

  Alexander gently, yet firmly, placed his sizable hand on Terry’s shoulder.

  “My name is Alexander,” he said deeply.

  Terry let out a small, uncontrollable, “Eep,” and stopped talking.

  Deimos could hardly believe it. Hans was really dead. The man who had killed his friends and left him a frightened shell of his former self for decades was gone for good. Realizing this fact did not bring him any joy. There had been something wrong with Hans, some sickness that Deimos couldn’t identify. But what? It almost seemed as if Hans was acting outside of his own control, making decisions based on hatred that stemmed from a place that even Hans didn’t understand. It was difficult to believe that Hans could have changed so much over the years, even more so in the last several months, without something affecting his behavior. When it came down to it, Deimos felt sorry for him.

  Yet looking around at the smiling faces of his new friends and family, he was grateful for what Hans had done. Yes, he had been the cause of incredible pain and sorrow. It was, after all, his actions that ended the Villain Movement in the first place, but Hans was also responsible for the resurgence of this new Villain Movement. Dozens of people who were without a place to call home now had one, and there were possibly hundreds more yet to join them. Who knew how many villains from the old days were still in hiding, waiting for their time to come back into the light? There could be even more new villains, toiling away in secret, not knowing their full potential. Only time would tell, and that was something Deimos felt he now had a lot of.

  “Did he really have a mech or did I dream that?” Deimos asked, some of the color returning to his face.

  “Oh it was real, all right,” Alexander said, rubbing his neck.

  “Yes, you two are lucky to have walked away with such minor injuries,” Veronica said.

  Hearing this, Deimos realized he hadn’t even processed his injuries yet. He looked down. Both of his arms were in casts and elevated. His ribs were wrapped with gauze and covered in a slimy yellow paste. Three tubes were sticking out from his chest and stomach, embedded into his body by long needles. His legs were covered by a thick, white blanket, but judging by the shape of the mounds underneath, they would require a bit more work than simple casts.

  Deimos had certainly seen better days, but he knew there were a lot of people who had it worse off than he did. From what he remembered, at least two of The Buzzard’s henchmen died in their assault along with dozens of military personnel.

  “Is there someone we need to report all of this to?” Deimos asked.

  “General Grant radioed earlier but you were still unconscious,” Siren said. “All things considered, I think you can take the rest of the night off and get back to him tomorrow.”

  “Yeah!” Terry said, finding his voice. “The mighty Deimos answers to no one!”

  Terry, Glenn, and Harold all chanted, “Deimos! Deimos! Deimos!”

  The rest of the henchmen quickly joined in and Deimos blushed. He would have waved for them to stop, but with both of his arms in casts he was physically unable to. Plus, he was really enjoying it.

  Their chanting died down and Deimos looked up to Siren.

  “Which one of you came up with the plan for those coordinated attacks?” Deimos asked. “I was impressed you all pulled them off so seamlessly. It was like you were always right where you needed to be in order to save my life.”

  “Oh, we were just improvising,” Eve said.

  “What?” Deimos shuddered and the color drained from his face again.

  “Eve!” Terry said accusingly.

  “What? It’s true,” she responded defensively. “If he’s so smart then why didn’t he come up with a plan?”

  Deimos dry heaved.

  “I think I need a drink. Anyone down for shots?”

  “I wouldn’t recommend that,” Veronica said.

  “Okay, just beers then,” Deimos replied.

  Despite Veronica’s objections, crates of beers were brought up from the galley and the henchmen passed them around. Siren had to hold Deimos’ beer for him due to his broken arms, but she didn’t mind. She sat on the edge of his bed, beers in both hands, pressed close to him.

  Once everyone had a beer in hand, they all raised their drinks in a toast. They toasted to their victory. They toasted again to the men and women who had given their lives to save countless others, and again to their new home and family. They continued toasting for several hours, with each person finding something new they were grateful for.

  More beers had to be brought up as their celebration carried on into the evening. Eventually, music was played and Deimos insisted on b
eing wheeled out onto the deck so they could finish that morning’s dance contest. Terry happily obliged and the party was moved upstairs.

  Deimos watched the dance contest take place on deck and was shocked when Alexander stepped into the circle. Everyone took several steps back as he suddenly began to dance to a techno remix of “What Is Love” by Haddaway. The deck shook and creaked with each of his heavy stomps as he flung himself around, popping and locking like a pro. He finished the dance by sliding across the deck and ripping his shirt off simply by flexing. The henchmen lost their minds and cheered wildly, undeniably declaring Alexander to be the winner.

  As the night went on, the party steadily grew. Dozens of Eve’s followers began showing up on speed boats and yachts, docking alongside Redbeard’s Revenge and hosting mini-parties of their own. Even the coast guard joined in and set off several of their flares as fireworks.

  Glenn worked up the courage to talk to Carly, who after a bit of convincing hiked up her pant leg to show off her ankles. Glenn nearly passed out from excitement. They ran below deck and weren’t seen for the remainder of the night.

  The party only started to die down as the sun was rising. Deimos napped on and off throughout the night but had insisted on staying out on deck. He wanted to be able to talk to all of the henchmen who were constantly streaming by his bed to say thanks or give their ideas for new gadget names.

  When the sun rose, Siren was lying next to Deimos on his hospital bed with Professor Paws sleeping peacefully between them. Her arm was placed carefully behind Deimos’ head and they leaned close to each other, silently watching the sunrise.

  The orange glow slowly began to bathe Los Rebeldes in a warm, rejuvenating light. Much of Downtown and the Manufacturing District had been destroyed by Hans’ mech and was still smoldering. Anyone else viewing the empty city that morning would have only seen the destruction, but Deimos saw something different. He saw hope, the opportunity of a fresh start for everyone living in Los Rebeldes. He could help them rebuild their lives for the better, if they let him.

  That sounds like a problem for another time, Deimos thought as Siren snuggled closer to him.

  As they both drifted off into a much-needed slumber, a wave of happiness washed over them. Life had never seemed so grand.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Holy smokes, you made it to the end of my book! Whether you read the entire thing or simply flipped here to see how it ends, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  This is the first book I have ever written. I hope it wasn’t too obvious. Typically, I fancy myself a screenwriter and have projects ranging from animated cartoons to existential horror films. Villain was based off a series I wrote years ago but was never able to get off the ground. I loved the story so much that I decided I didn’t want to wait on some company or producer to approve of it. I took Villain’s fate into my own hands and turned the first season into this book.

  This is the first installment in a planned trilogy following Deimos, Siren, and the rest of the gang. If you liked it, or didn’t, please let me know by leaving a review on Amazon (or wherever else you got this book). I am currently writing the second installment, so your feedback will be invaluable to me. All positive feedback will be taken into consideration as I continue this series, and all negative feedback will be forwarded to my therapist as proof for my low self-worth.

  Thank you for joining me on this adventure, and I hope to see you on the next one!