Villain's Assistant

by Carley Hibbert

  “That’s where I’m headed too. Safety in numbers.” The man turned to face him, revealing a black eye patch encrusted with small rubies.

  Benjamin took a step back and was relieved that he hadn’t chosen to wear his eye patch. He took a step toward Shreb’s fortress, not knowing what to do and hoping it didn’t show. Maybe he could outpace the old man and leave him behind. Unfortunately, the old man didn’t take the hint and stepped in beside him.

  “Good day for an interview. This your first one?” The old man traced the edge of his eye patch with a grimy finger.

  Benjamin turned and tripped over his own feet, kicking up a sizable dust cloud that sent him into a hard coughing fit. The villain waited until Benjamin’s coughs stopped to continue talking.

  “How did I know this is your first time? And that you’re going to Shreb’s?” The old man chuckled and steered clear of the dust cloud around Benjamin. “As easily as you can tell that I’ve been at this for a while. Besides, that’s the only place anyone’s going.”

  “You don’t look like the type who would be looking for employment.” Benjamin hacked a few more times as he examined the man’s faded black suit.

  “Worried about a little competition?” The old villain chuckled. “No worries. Let’s say I’m more curious than serious.”

  Benjamin stopped to eye the one-eyed man. “You’re spying for your employer, then?”

  The old villain walked on silently, not answering the question. Benjamin trailed behind. The old man tugged at the strap wrapped around his head and glanced behind them toward the mountains and then back to the road ahead, turning his head slightly to study Benjamin.

  Maybe the old man will need to rest soon, and then I can ditch him.

  “What position are you trying for, entry-level grunt work?” the villain asked, trying not to sound too interested and failing.

  Heat bloomed in Benjamin’s cheeks. Why did everyone assume he was an incapable, just because he was young? He didn’t have time for grunt work. “I’m trying for villain’s assistant.”

  The old man rubbed his chin as he stole a few sideways glances at Benjamin. “Well, you are ambitious.”

  The villain slipped into a thoughtful silence. Benjamin tried to look unconcerned. So, of course, he felt self-conscious of every step he took and how he held his head and where he looked. The scoundrel probably wasn’t truly interested in him. Still, Benjamin felt there was something off with him. What if he wanted to steal Benjamin from the Mighty Shreb? He was the only employer acceptable to him right now. Benjamin slowly increased his pace.

  The villain pulled out a flask and drank, and then tucked it back into his pocket. A flask! Why didn’t I think of that? Benjamin’s mouth felt like a dry riverbed. There was a well along the road, but a good VA drank from a flask to avoid poisoning. His life and job depended on it.

  “I’d offer you my flask, but we both know that’s not going to happen. Don’t worry, there’s a well around the corner.”

  Benjamin nodded.

  “So why the VA position?”

  “It’s the timing. I just graduated valedictorian from my class at the Villains’ Academy.” And my dad used to work for his dad. Benjamin shrugged. “I can handle it. Plus, it’s what I want to do.”

  “Sort of like fate, huh?”

  Benjamin nodded and clutched the eye patch in his pocket.

  “Fate can be a cruel taskmaster, kid. You still have other choices.”

  “I’m not a kid,” Benjamin snipped. “I’m sixteen.”

  The villain adjusted his eye patch but didn’t respond.

  “Wait. Is that some sort of job offer, or are you just trying to get me out of the way?” Benjamin asked.

  He stopped and faced the villain, who seemed to be considering how to answer.

  “Navigating these interviews can be tricky. It’s nice to have someone to watch your back.” The villain’s good eye, a pale-brown one, flicked away for a moment before burrowing into Benjamin. “I want you to know that if you need help, you can trust me.”

  Benjamin stiffened. Trust was a loaded word around here. The villain stepped back slowly while maintaining eye contact, and then turned and walked off toward Shreb’s Fortress alone. Benjamin stood and watched the villain’s suit until the man was a dark smudge on the road.

  Benjamin tapped his foot in the fine road dust and pulled out his apple and crunched into it, while he decided what to do next. The juices were not as satisfying as he had hoped, but it was all he had.

  “Good riddance,” he said, peering up the empty road ahead of him. But the cold lump in his chest said otherwise. This wasn’t school anymore. He just might need help. He picked up his pace so he could keep the old man in sight. Benjamin had never witnessed a successful alliance in school, but here in the real world, there were no points handed out for the best betrayal. He shoved his apple back into his pocket and scrambled to catch up.

  THREE

  Benjamin bent over, gasping for air, his head throbbing in the heat. The gates to Shreb’s fortress were still closed, so the interviews hadn’t started yet. He trudged off the road to where several clumps of sweaty villains sat waiting. The head of this troupe was known only as the Villain, and at the moment, he sat under a sickly shade tree. He waved Benjamin over, and the young man collapsed next to him, thankful for the sliver of shade. He scanned the scowling crowd around him as he swabbed the sweat off his face. He was surprised to find several death glares aimed in his general direction, but then, there weren’t any other shady spots to sit. Benjamin pulled his knees into his chest and examined the Villain, who was only concerned with the apple he had started peeling.

  “I’m guessing that some of these guys know you?” Benjamin asked, taking count of visible knives and weapons.

  The Villain chuckled. “Don’t think of trying to start a friendly conversation with any of them. Trust me; you’re safer here.”

  Benjamin had no intention of going anywhere at that moment. A large man with matted arm hair watched them, fingering a sparkling knife. Sweat dripped down the crease between his prickly eyebrows and into the bush of chest hair that crawled up from his open leather vest. Benjamin might be young and inexperienced, but he wasn’t stupid. Sitting here with the Villain marked him as an associate. Whatever unsettled scores these thugs might have with the old man they would now have with Benjamin as well. He swallowed the hard lump that was building in his throat. Benjamin would be considered collateral damage if anyone wanted to take out the one-eyed man.

  “Is that because they’re dangerous?” Benjamin asked under his breath, “or is that because you’re dangerous?”

  Directly in front of them, just a knife’s throw away, the hairy thug fidgeted against a large rock. Under the scalding sun, that boulder must have been a miserable resting place. Benjamin tucked his elbows in, drawing his knees tighter into his chest. Their shady spot must have looked like a place worth killing for.

  The Villain glanced at Benjamin and asked, “Do you have any plans to deal with him?”

  Benjamin grazed the pommel of the knife hidden under his sleeve with his thumb, determining how accurate a throw he could make from where he sat.

  “My plan was to slide through unnoticed.” Benjamin said through stiff lips, watching the hairy man’s knife. “Plus I think he’s looking murderously at you, not me.”

  Benjamin could hear the academy gossip already. Did you hear about Benjamin Black? He didn’t even make it a week…killed at his first interview…we all had such high hopes…thankfully, his father isn’t around to see this.

  “You know, I think you’re right,” The Villain said as he finished peeling the apple, allowing a single strip of peel to fall into his lap. Then he looked up.

  The hairy man hesitated for a full second under the gaze of the one-eyed man, but that was all the time the veteran needed. He threw his knife into the hairy man’s muscled shoulder. The man’s eyes popped as he clutched his arm with a screech. The impatient gr
umbling of the crowd was cut off by the time the injured man’s knife hit the ground.

  The Villain stood up, tossed his peel, and bit into his apple. Then he strolled over and pressed his boot into the man’s wooly chest, causing the thug to howl. He pulled his knife out, and then directed, with a simple nod of his head, where the dirty man should go if he didn’t want worse. The thug crept past the wide eyes of his neighbors, leaving only an indentation in the dirt and a few drops of blood. The Villain settled next to Benjamin.

  “That brute didn’t have subtlety, and it nearly killed him.” The Villain pulled out a red rag from his pocket and cleaned his blade. “Subtlety is a skill you need to develop or else your every movement screams your intent.”

  The Villain replaced his rag and turned to whittling a piece of wood, ignoring the sea of eyes that followed every stroke of his knife. Benjamin blinked at the silent men who surrounded him. He was now invisible to everyone. Of course, there were worse things to be than invisible at the moment—like gutted.

  A couple of guys elbowed each other and signaled it was time to move on. After a few more small groups left, Benjamin began to wonder what the Villain’s leverage was. He couldn’t see what the old man was doing, so he readjusted his position to watch. At the slightest narrowing of the Villain’s eye, four young men stood and walked away.

  Who was this scoundrel? There had to be more to him than a steely gaze. This man must be somebody, possibly an archvillain. How could Benjamin not know who he was? He went over the list from school—Cyril the Insane had just fled the plain when his men turned on him. Mantis hadn’t had a following in decades. Tendenham had laid low since he lost his hand. There wasn’t anyone else so formidable. Benjamin was out of the loop—and that could be a dangerous place to be.

  Soon there were only a few interviewees left. One guy lay against a tall rock, his hat tipped over his face. He was the only person not completely engrossed in the silent battle raging around the old man. Two other thugs stared intently at the Villain. Benjamin flicked his eyes between the old man and the thugs, who had an obvious physical advantage. They were sweating pure malice. The Villain stood and tipped his hat to them with a smile. The thugs turned their glares at each other, each suspecting the other of being allied with the old man. They charged one another.

  The Villain walked around them and slid his knife in its sheath, looking satisfied with his handiwork. The napper sat up, pushed his hat back, and grinned, revealing a mouth full of gold.

  The color drained from the old man’s face, and his knuckles went white around his knife. Judging by their icy glares, both men knew each other. There was no professional admiration, only loathing. The Villain slid his eye to Benjamin, his jaw muscles flexing, and then gestured with his head to follow. And Benjamin, like everyone else that day, obeyed. The Villain’s eye had said, “If you want to live, follow me.” Benjamin realized he wanted to live more than he wanted his dream job.

  FOUR

  “That was an unfortunate twist of fate,” the Villain said, rubbing at a spot on the back of his head. His stride was purposeful and tense as he quickly covered ground.

  Benjamin shook his head as if that would put his thoughts into some kind of order. He was incapable of matching the old man’s pace, since he still couldn’t breathe. Did he really just walk away from his life's master plan? Being VA to the second Shreb was all Benjamin had ever thought about while in school, and now, in one second, it was all over! Benjamin pressed a fist against his chest, imploring his lungs to breathe. He wasn’t sure how his feet were moving; he couldn’t feel them.

  Occasionally the old man cast a look over his shoulder that caused Benjamin to jump and catch up. Soon the Villain and Benjamin were at a crossroads. The Villain took the road that led away from Benjamin’s hideout,: the place he was supposed to go when things didn’t go as planned. Benjamin hesitated a moment. One road led to uncertainty, and the other led to someplace he’d already been. I am alive, he reminded himself. There was always a chance for better opportunities if he kept moving down new paths. His heart pounded against his eardrums as he trailed after his new employer.

  They walked until the shadows got long and Benjamin’s throat scratched with dust. The old man sat on a rock to rest, scrutinizing Benjamin for several seconds before scooting over. “You look like you need to sit down.”

  The Villain pulled out his flask. He drank and handed it over to Benjamin. The water was warm and metallic tasting, but it soothed his burning throat. Benjamin thanked him, trying not to sound ungrateful for the most unsettling day of his life. Nothing had gone according to plan. Even his worst-case scenarios couldn’t have predicted this. But it could have been worse, he reminded himself, so much worse. He remembered the nightmarish gold smile that ruined his life, and he shivered.

  “So what do I call you?”

  “The Lieutenant,” the old man said, studying Benjamin from the corner of his eye.

  “What about the gold-mouth guy? It seems like I would have heard about him, but then I’ve never heard of the Lieutenant either.”

  “Well, he wouldn’t be on any lists.”

  “Too new?”

  “No, too dead—a long time dead.” The Lieutenant stared across the brush. “I suppose the devil wouldn’t take him.”

  Dead? Benjamin thought over his history courses. I have passed over to the land of the weird.

  “I don’t remember any gold teeth.”

  “That part is new and not an improvement to his personality at all. Surely you’ve heard of Old Mouthrot?”

  Benjamin gasped.

  “Ah, I see that you have.”

  “But he was just…just a story.” Benjamin remembered the whispers that drifted through the dormitories at night.

  “Well, no one knew much about him. Mouthrot preferred to be thought of as a ghost, and this little resurrection doesn’t bode well for any of us, especially not the Mighty Shreb.” There was mocking in the Lieutenant’s tone. “Mouthrot should have replaced the first Shreb as archvillain, except that Mouthrot also died, or nearly died, fourteen years ago.”

  “Hmm…impressive,” Benjamin muttered, his head buzzing with the idea of a villain more formidable than the Mighty Shreb. “That would be a crowning achievement for Mouthrot to get the VA position with the current archvillain. Shreb would have to be fairly gullible, though, wouldn’t he? It’s not like Mouthrot looks like the type who takes orders.”

  “What did you say?” The jewels in the old man’s eye patch glinted in the failing light.

  “Shreb would have to be quite—”

  “No, no, not that…I said it was a crowning achievement.”

  With that, the old man stood up and reached for his flask. Benjamin gulped as much as he dared before tossing back the flask.

  “Come on; we’ve got work to do.”

  The Lieutenant took off down the road refreshed, while Benjamin dragged behind. He wouldn’t sleep in his bed anytime soon, though there was nothing he wanted more. Benjamin fought off his desire to lie down and lick his inner wounds, but instead he picked up speed. The thought of getting lost and sleeping in the dark outdoors propelled him forward. Besides, the brush looked prickly.

  They approached a two-story shack, bleached white from the sun. A lantern was lit outside the door, casting shadows in the fading light. The Lieutenant warned Benjamin to stand back before he knocked. Benjamin studied the open area around him, noting a pile of firewood and a well. The door flew open, and a girl with tattered yellow braids appeared at the door, wrapped in a shawl. The man muttered something to her and then gestured toward Benjamin.

  “I brought a lad back with me,” he said. The Lieutenant waved Benjamin over.

  The girl looked not much older than Benjamin. She glared at him and stepped aside, pulling her faded skirt back to expose a pair of well-worn boots.

  Benjamin ducked his head as he slipped past her. “He told me to come.”

  “Of course he did,” she growled and s
lammed the door.

  “I trust him.” The Lieutenant shrugged.

  “Oh, really? That’s new.”

  The Lieutenant put his hands on her shoulder, pushing her yellow braids back, and looked her in the eye. “Mouthrot saw us together.”

  “Mouthrot?” The girl’s face went slack, her gray eyes widening. “But he’s dead. You killed him. You said that you killed him.” The girl pulled away and started pacing, shoving a chair into a kitchen table.

  “We never found the body when he fell into that ravine.” The Lieutenant looked past the girl as he rubbed the back of his head. “We should have known better. I should have known better.”

  The girl shook her head as her chest heaved violently. She dodged the Lieutenant’s outreached arms and ran.

  “Rebecca!” the Lieutenant cried, his head falling in defeat as she pounded up the stairs and slammed a door.

  Benjamin rocked back and forth silently on his feet as he studied the road dust on the tops of his boots. After an awkward silence passed, the Lieutenant set a plate of cheese and bread on the planks that made up the kitchen table. The heavy wood bench screeched across floor as Benjamin sat down and tried to swallow the tasteless food.

  The old villain creaked up the stairs and then returned with a thin pad and blanket. He pushed back a curtain behind Benjamin, revealing a pantry, and dropped the bedding on the floor. The Lieutenant nodded a silent good night and slipped back up the stairs.

  Benjamin woke the next morning on a dusty floor pad with a small, grimy blanket twisted around him. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, wishing the previous day had just been a nightmare. He wondered if he was truly with allies, but as he had never had allies before, he wasn’t sure.

  They hadn’t tied Benjamin up, locked him away, or mistreated him. They certainly hadn’t interrogated him, at least not yet. In fact, the girl had barely acknowledged his existence last night.

  Benjamin poked his head through the curtain that separated his pantry “bedroom” from the kitchen. He hadn’t heard any noises yet. He stoked the fire in the stove and then headed outside to cut firewood.