Villains Rule

by M. K. Gibson

  And I bet a blow job from her would melt your cock off.

  To the baron’s left was his archmage, Chaud. The bald man was my height and skeletal. He seemed to be perpetually shivering from the lack of body fat. He was wrapped in blue and black robes, yet he left his hood down for the feast. His piercing eyes and hawkish nose gave him the look of a bird of prey. While he radiated cold, dark power, he had a smirk to his mouth like he was recalling a joke. I liked him immediately.

  My informant, Steve the acting chamberlain, stood behind the baron waiting for his command. I sat along the opposite head of the table, the seat for guests of honor. Behind me, Courtney stood a silent watch, keeping his eyes peeled for any danger. Just because Grimskull was a client didn’t mean I trusted him. The rest of the table was filled with various retainers, local lords, the chief of police, and other such dignitaries.

  And Randy.

  Randy had all the dinner graces of a donkey in heat as he slurped his way through the meal, belching loudly and knocking over people’s drinks while reaching over their plates for helping after helping of food.

  All the kindness and goodwill I’d felt for my nephew in the Corolan Inn was swiftly melting away, leaving me with my original stance on him and my loathing for his breathing the same air as me.

  The remainder of my men were downstairs, eating at the servants’ tables, as was fitting their station. I would have preferred my men to be present in case Grimskull tried something stupid. Yet I was comforted, as always, in knowing Courtney was behind me, figuratively and literally watching my back.

  As the meal died down, the musicians picked up their instruments in the great hall. The madrigal was soft and lively without being overbearing. Servants came forth with goblets of port, perfect for after dinner.

  Grimskull took up his cup, and standing, presented it before the group.

  “To the Shadow Master, Jackson Blackwell. With his guidance, I will transform my empire into the greatest realm in all the land. I am honored to have you in my home and look forward to a long and fruitful relationship.”

  Oh shit.

  OK, for the uninitiated, when the villain raises a glass in a toast that flowery, wishing long relationships and blah blah blah, that usually means he is about to double cross you. Most times, you are about to be poisoned or drugged, then imprisoned, then killed.

  So I held my glass out and refused to drink. Instead I locked eyes with Grimskull and waited. I sensed Courtney tensing behind me. My loyal badass was ready for a fight. With the amount of magical items and firearms on my person, I was ready to give these fantasy fucks a dinner they would never forget.

  “Mr. Blackwell—Jackson, if I may—the wine is not poisoned,” Baron Grimskull said in a obsequious tone. “Nor was a single bite of your meal. I would, after all, never think of trying to poison you. You are too wise and too cunning to fall for that. I assume you have no less than three different items on you that would detect poison.”

  I only had two, actually. Drinks were tricky since alcohol is technically a poison. The stone in the ring on my left thumb, the one I held my drink with, neutralized all poisons. I could drink any alcohol and only get the most pleasant buzz instead of full-blown drunk and a hangover.

  “It is not your food nor drink which concerns me,” I said as I tilted the goblet back and swallowed the port. “It is the manner in which you are addressing me. You mock my title and show contempt for me over a meal. Bad form, Baron.”

  “Jackson, you are no longer in your realm. As I told you in your awful dimension, you would be my guest. And my guest, you will remain forever, until your power is mine.”

  So that’s why he wanted me here. I should have seen this coming. I was getting sloppy. Well, between Courtney and me, we could take them all. Steve, with luck, would neutralize the baron and the archmage. Courtney could handle the big bitch and I would clean up the rest of the room. I just needed a signal to spring into motion.

  That’s when I saw Steve wink at me. I got ready . . . then realized.

  He didn’t wink at me.

  He winked behind me.

  At Courtney.

  I turned just in time to catch Courtney’s gauntleted fist on the bridge of my nose.

  I dropped hard. My nose was broken and blood gushed everywhere. I couldn’t see past the tears that were involuntarily welling up (I was NOT crying! It was a biological response!).

  “Courtney, et tu?”

  “You are such a fucking asshole,” Courtney said just before his big boot connected with my temple and knocked me into unconsciousness.

  Chapter Nine

  Where I Recover from a Concussion and Plot the Demise of Seven Assholes

  If you’ve never been knocked out, it is a hell of an experience. The sudden impact rocks your brain and your mind basically reboots like a computer. Everything goes black and you have a strange taste of metal in your mouth just before you pass out.

  It is not good to be knocked out, as you have basically suffered a concussion. The longer you are out, the more damage has been done to your brain.

  I was out for a good while.

  The reality of coming to after being knocked out is piecemeal. Your senses return bit by bit while your mind and body perform a quick triage to assess the damage to the body and determine where you are.

  I woke up cold, damp, and in pain. So that sucked.

  My eyes were still closed, crusted over with blood. My head and nose throbbed in tremendous pain. That also sucked.

  I felt cold, wet, abrasive stone underneath me and I was aware that I was only wearing my small clothes (that’s fantasy realm talk for underwear). The situation was this: I hurt, I was on wet stone, and my head had been beaten in. If I had to guess, after being betrayed, I was stripped down and thrown into a dungeon.

  Fucking great.

  Blindly, I reached out and felt the stone ground and splashed my hands into puddles of water. Well, at least I hope it was water. I used the moisture to lubricate my eyes and wash off the blood. There was a gash on my forehead from where Courtney’s boot must have connected after he kicked me in the temple.

  What an asshole. That kick to the head knocked me out. The follow-up kick he must have delivered out of spite opened up my forehead. Oh, Courtney . . . now I will have to destroy you.

  I sat up very slowly. When you have been knocked out, sudden movements afterward can be quite disorienting. Your head will swim and you’ll vomit. I already had enough (hopefully) water on my face to wash off the blood; I didn’t need to add partially-digested unicorn to the mix. I blinked and let my eyes adjust to the barely-illuminated cell.

  I inched myself to a seated position, my back along a stone wall. Surveying the room, I was well and truly boned.

  The cell I was in was nothing more than a hollowed-out alcove, carved into the mountain, deep below the castle. Before me were not steel bars, but a lattice of rock and stone. Since there was no gate and no lock, I had to assume that the cell was magical, and that either a mage was in charge down here, or the guards carried charms that controlled the stone, allowing them to manipulate the earth.

  Crap.

  If there had been a steel gate, like the ones in the stories and books, I could possibly pick the lock. But this? I would need a sledgehammer to get through it. Sadly, I had not thought ahead to hide one up my rectum in case of just such an emergency.

  After a few minutes of slow breathing, my pounding headache subsided to mere annoyance. I slowly crawled over to the stone prison gate and peered outward. My cell seemed to be one of many, all carved into a long rectangular hallway with several fire pits positioned along it. The only source of light seemed to be those fires. Each end of the hallway had a door. My guess, one went up and the other went down. It would stand to reason that the upwards path went to the main castle while the other led to where all the garbage and sewage would go, the sea.

  I returned to the back wall of my cell and waited. Calming my mind, I assessed the situation.
/>
  First, I was alive. So, someone wanted me that way—either to gloat, or to get something from me. Second, I was naked, or near enough. That meant someone knew what items I had on me, and more importantly, how to remove them safely.

  I heard moaning and wailing from other prisoners, which was distracting. As was the stink of whatever shadow race creatures they had down here as well. Troll? Orc? The stench was so potent that combined with the sobs and wails of other prisoners, I missed that I had a visitor standing outside my cell.

  Three of them, actually.

  Randy, Courtney, and Steve.

  “’Sup, dude,” Randy said as he leaned against the stone gate and played with his phone.

  “Mr. Blackwell,” Courtney said. He stood there with his arms crossed and looked down on me, his expression showing nothing.

  “Jackson. You look like shit, bro,” Steve said.

  Three of them. One of them was my Judas. My first instinct was Steve. Perhaps I’d left him here too long and he’d gone native. There was no way Randy could rub his three remaining brain cells together to do this.

  But Courtney? He had to be mind controlled. There was no way he would betray me willingly.

  “Mr. Blackwell, I want to explain why I betrayed you.”

  Fucking Courtney . . . I always knew I couldn’t trust him! Bad news from the beginning.

  “Mr. Blackwell . . . Jackson, you were the best employer I’ve ever had.”

  I crossed my arms and stared back at him. “Then why?”

  “You would not understand.”

  “Not understand what? What in the world could possibly move you to betray me? I pay you very well. Your family is taken care of. You get to travel the multiverse and kick the crap out of people for fun. Hell, your niece is going to Harvard thanks to my donation!”

  “Yale,” Courtney said absently.

  “Then again, why?”

  “I told you he wouldn’t get it,” Steve said. Smug bastard just stared at me like I was an animal in the zoo. An exhibit to behold, then move on, forgotten moments after seeing it.

  “Oh, I’ll get to you soon. When I found you, you were nothing. I got you a job here and you started as a cook and moved up to chamberlain in six years. I had such high hopes for you.”

  “No, asshole,” Steve said. “My last name is Cooke. You put me there as a joke and forgot about me. No communication, no orders, nothing! I’ve had to shit in outhouses and chamber pots for eight freaking years. You know what they have for dentistry here? Nothing! My teeth hurt. There are monsters. I never even saw the end of Lost!”

  “You didn’t miss much. Pretty much purgatory the whole time.”

  “Really? That sucks.”

  I turned my attention away from Steve and focused on Randy. “And what’s your excuse?”

  “Hmm? Oh, muscle dude’s in love with my mom. He’s cool. You’re kind of a dick. No offense dude,” Randy said without even looking up from his phone.

  My sister. My freaking sister was behind this? And for love?

  “You’re in love with my sister?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you,” I asked Steve. “Greed?”

  “You know it. I want back to the real world. Hot running water and air conditioning.”

  “Let me guess, you and your mom want my job?” I asked Randy.

  “I guess,” Randy shrugged.

  “So, what’s Grimskull’s involvement?” I asked.

  No one spoke. “OK, now we stop chatting?” I asked.

  “Not stopping, waiting,” a new voice said.

  Grimskull’s.

  The bastard even started a slow clap. I guess that gesture wasn’t contained to just the prime universe. The baron, General Anders, and Archmage Chaud came to stand before my cell while my trio of traitors moved aside. All of them smiled at me in captivity. Smirking. Gloating. Six people of power. Six controllers of my fate. Six people who brought my entire empire down around me, while my chubby, slutty sister was most likely redecorating my office. So, make that seven people.

  Normally, I wouldn’t count Randy, but when you are on this side of the prison bars, your perspective changes.

  And with that thought, I smiled.

  “And what could the mighty ‘Shadow Master,’” Grimskull said with air quotes, “be smiling about?”

  Chaud chuckled with an evil, creepy, thin-lipped smile. General Anders actually laughed out loud, tossing her mane of hair back. Her loud, bellowing laugh felt like it rocked the whole cell level.

  Sycophants laughing in unison? Cliché bullshit was alive and well.

  Well, so was the villain soliloquy.

  Mine.

  I was the villain here and these chumps were about to learn that.

  “You stand there, in positions of power. And power is why I am laughing.” I stood, as best I could, on shaky legs. If I was about to give a killer speech, it wouldn’t be on my ass. “Laugh at me, if you must. Many have. And they are all memories. I am going to destroy you. All of you. Even my dear, bloated sister. Trust me, Courtney, I’m doing you a favor. You six see yourself as untouchable now that the infamous Shadow Master is trapped. But while you six stand there, I do not see six captors . . . no.”

  I inched closer, painfully, to the stone lattice cell. I rested my hands on the lattice, holding myself up as best I could.

  Which is what I wanted them to see.

  As fast as possible I snatched my hand through the opening and grabbed Randy by the collar and pulled hard, cracking his head to the stone. With my other hand I grabbed the smart phone before it hit the ground. Jumping back as Courtney and Steve reached for me, I smiled, baring my teeth.

  “I only see six targets.”

  And with that, I vanished.

  Chapter Ten...sort of

  Where I Gloat

  Don’t act surprised. I’m the freaking Shadow Master.

  Did you really think I was going to be stuck in prison?

  Are you an idiot?

  Probably.

  Anyway, back to my tale.

  Chapter Ten (The Real One)

  Where I Exploit Fantasy Loopholes and Piss off a Sea Deity

  “Boss . . . boss . . . BOSS!”

  “Mmm?” I half grumbled, half gurgled as I sat up in the sand, coughing up what felt like a whole ocean from my lungs.

  “Boss, can you hear me? Mr. Blackwell?”

  Between my coughing fits, I faintly heard the voice of my receptionist, Sophia.

  I shook my head and looked over my shoulder at the sea and smiled. “Heh, that always works.”

  “What? What works? Boss, are you OK?”

  It was morning and I was on a sandy beach near a small fishing village. Some of the locals were walking toward me, and oddly, some of them seemed to be rejoicing. I saw Randy’s phone lying on the beach next to me and picked it up. “Sophia, are you there?” I said into the phone.

  “Oh thank fucking Christ,” Sophia swore. “You’re alive.”

  “Did you have your . . . doubts?” I wheezed as I tried to get more air into my lungs.

  “Boss, I didn’t know what to think. Shortly after you left, Paige came to your office, kicked out all your clients and then started using her goddess powers. She’s making changes, Mr. Blackwell. Big ones.”

  I coughed a few more times, turning my head. Phone manners are important. “Changes? What kind of changes?”

  “Praise be! A savior from the sea has been delivered!” the lead village fisherman said as he came up to me with his arms open as if he wanted to hug me. “The sea god has heard our prayers.”

  “Who the hell is that?” Sophia asked.

  “Locals. Give me a second.” I held my hand up, halting him. He looked perplexed, but obeyed. “Excuse me, terribly sorry, but I’m in the middle of something. You were saying, Sophia? Paige was making changes?”

  “Everything, sir. The whole place has gone trailer trash, country kitchen, Pinterest kind of shit!”

  Crap. Paige a
lways did have the worst taste.

  “Wait, how are you calling me?”

  “I stole her phone when she wasn’t looking. She’s been in contact with Randy the whole time, texting, passing messages. Bad ones, sir.”

  Texting. I weep for the children of today. And the ridiculous parents who’ve adopted the juvenile practice. Is there a cluster of emojis that represents “Grow up, act your age, and suck my balls, you nation of vapid, non-verbal, entitled twats”?

  “Boss, I’ve been reading through the logs, and it looks like Courtney—” Sophia began, but the fisherman, now with more people gathered around, interrupted us.

  “Excuse me, but haven’t you been sent by Nhal, god of the sea? We read the signs and we expected a blessing to be upon us today. Nhal was to give us a champion who would—”

  “Yeah yeah, praise Nhal,” I said. “Now, I am communing with the great sea spirit right now. Could you get me some clothes and something to eat and drink?”

  “Uh . . . yes?”

  “Great. Now, run on back to your village and I will be there soon. Go on, chop chop,” I commanded.

  “Yes . . . yes, very wise, sir,” the fishermen said and left, confused, back to their village.

  “He’s . . . older than predicted,” one of the fishermen said to the others.

  “Never question the will of Nhal.”

  Once I was alone again on the beach, I returned to my phone call. “Yes, Sophia, I know all about Courtney and Paige. They are in love and he betrayed me. They all did.”

  “I know, boss. That was the last text received. Randy messaged her that you were in prison. Then when he stopped messaging, she went ballistic. How did you break free?”

  “Simple,” I said. “Courtney put his boots to me when I wasn’t ready and knocked me out. They threw me in a dungeon, and true to form, Grimskull brought his whole crew of conspirators down to gloat.”