by M. K. Gibson
Yeah, I must have been in shock.
From flat on my back I saw Valliar and Khasil looking down at me from the balcony. While they were still bound, they were looking intently at me. Something in how they stared at me hinted that I was missing a bigger picture.
I heard Randy screaming at my allies. He was saying something about not moving or not helping me, or else the next one went in my head. I guess he meant another bullet. Wren could most likely heal this, but dead was dead. If Randy shot my skull, then Wren would only be trying to heal a sack of meat.
Why the hell was my mind wandering and thinking about that crap?
Oh. Yes.
Randy shot me in the chest and I was bleeding out.
Julian Jackson Blackwell, a deep male voice said in my head.
Yes?
Snap out of it! a second female voice said.
Khasil? Valliar?
Obviously, Khasil said.
Damn it. I can’t even die in peace.
Then figure a way out of it, Valliar said.
A way out of dying? If you have a tip, I’m listening.
I told you he would not grasp it, Khasil said.
What I grasp is that you two are stuck and you need me to save you.
Yes, this is mutually beneficial, Valliar said.
And you need me, because my allies can’t do it by themselves? I said.
Your friends you mean, Valliar said.
Friends? Why did he say that? In all my time here, I’d only considered them my allies. They had their uses. Lydia in particular was something more. But to see them as friends . . . That was not who I was. I was a villain. And my rules, while sometimes lengthy, were ultimately simple. At the top of that list: One does not have friends. Friends are a liability. Friends lead to caring. And caring is the path to being—
Oh. Oh, damn it.
Damn it, damn it damn it damn it damn it.
Realization hit me harder than Randy’s bullet. My theory was all but confirmed. I thought I’d done enough already. I guess I still had more to give.
Is there anything you all could do to help me? I asked. I am in a lot of pain here.
Which was becoming more and more pronounced as the shock wore off, and my nerve endings were realizing there was a hole through my body.
We already did, Valliar said. Your bleeding has stopped. We can sustain you slightly. But that is all we can directly do for you.
How?
The mortal weapon missed your heart. As small a target as it was, Khasil said.
I’m not The Grinch, bitch.
I do not understand the reference, Khasil said, confused.
Then understand this, I said as I started to push past the pain and bring my mind back to the present world.
I am the one who does not lose. Not to you two, and damn sure not to some punk kid demigod who is only in existence because my slutty sister can’t be bothered to use a condom or use her ass for another purpose. I’m the rule breaker. The villain of villains. I am the motherfucking Shadow Master. And if this is what it takes to win, then so be it.
I opened my eyes and sat up to a world of pain and agony.
But I was alive. And as long as I was alive, I would win.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Where I Take a Painful Walk and Accept My Fate
“Impossible,” Randy said as I began to rise.
“No, not impossible,” I grunted. “Just—oh goddamn that hurts—just improbable.”
“Jackson?!” Hawker exclaimed as he came to my side, helping me stand. “What did he do to you? What was that?”
“A weapon from my world.”
“How are you standing?” Hawker asked, his hands red with my blood.
“Grit, Hawker. Grit.”
Wren put himself between Randy and me. He held his shield up and stood in defiance. I placed my hand on Wren’s shoulder. The big man looked back at me.
“No. Don’t. That will puncture your armor and your shield.”
“Vammar’s power will—”
“Will do nothing,” I said. “Not this time. This is bigger than Vammar. I have to do this alone.”
“Do what?” Lydia said as she came to support me on the other side.
“I have to face him. Alone. This . . . this is between Randy and me.”
“Are you an idiot?” Lydia asked.
“Most likely, yes,” I said. “But it still has to be done.”
“Uncle? What are you getting at?”
“You and me. Just you and me. We finish this story together. All I ask is that no matter what, my friends live.”
“Now why would I do that?” Randy asked.
“Because they mean nothing to you. If you beat me, then you win. You beat the Shadow Master. After which you take all that I have. This place. Them,” I gestured back to my friends. “They mean nothing.”
“What is your angle, Uncle?”
“This time? No angle. You and I, and only one of us walks away. Well, maybe not ‘walk’ exactly. Because unless you get up, you’re going to die on your knees.”
Slowly, Randy stood on shaky legs. It was a testament to a will almost as strong as my own. Almost.
“As turned on as I am with this, don’t do it,” Lydia said. “We can take him together.”
“Lydia’s right, we can beat him together,” Hawker said.
I put a hand on Hawker’s armor and looked him in the eyes, “No. You did your part.” I took a moment and looked at each of them in turn. “You all did your part. We would never have gotten as far as we have without you. I thank you, my friends. But this is my time, and mine alone. No matter what happens, you’ll be OK. I will never forget any of you. My friends.”
Lydia grabbed the front of my bloody shirt and pulled me towards her. She kissed me with passion and fever. If I hadn’t lost so much blood, I would have had an incredible erection.
“Kick his ass,” Lydia said as she broke the kiss. “Then come back to me.”
“That’s my plan,” I said.
I walked away from my friends and took a few steps towards Randy. My nephew still had his gun trained on me. His newfound strength was inspiring, but his legs trembled with effort to stand. His power output must have been reaching its max.
Which was why I taunted him into standing.
My hand came to rest on the pommel of the sword at my side. It was the sword Hawker had given me on the banks of the Lower Eld. Randy saw my hand and pointed his gun at my head.
“It looks like you brought a sword to a gunfight, Uncle.”
I unbuckled the weapon. The belt, sword, and scabbard hit the floor of the great hall.
“Jackson?! What are you doing?” Wren yelled.
I ignored my friends. Holding my arms out wide, I took a deep breath and started walking towards my nephew and his gun.
Randy fired the gun.
The bullet zipped past my left temple, grazing the flesh and tearing it open. I felt searing hot pain as the skin ripped open, but nothing more.
I kept walking.
Randy fired again.
The bullet tore past my right pectoral and through my lateral dorsi. Another bullet wound. Yet I kept walking towards Randy and his gun.
Randy fired again and again. Each bullet missed me, or tore through painful but non-life-threatening parts of my flesh. I stopped when I was within arm’s reach of Randy.
“You’re shaking, Nephew. Nerves, or the strain on your power reserves?”
Randy ignored the question and aimed the gun directly at my head. “At this range, I can’t miss.”
I took one last step and placed my forehead against the barrel.
“I don’t want you to miss,” I said, looking down the weapon’s barrel directly into my nephew’s eyes. Odd as it was, I noticed, perhaps for the first time, that we had the same eyes.
“Jackson! Stop!” my friends yelled from behind me. I ignored them and continued looking into the younger reflection of myself.
Perhaps
in another life, another place, Randy and I could have been allies. Perhaps if I had been nicer to him? Or if he had been more forthcoming with me? Who knows what we could have accomplished together.
Now, it was just Randy and I on opposite ends of a loaded gun.
“You want to be the villain?” I asked.
“Yes, Uncle, I do.”
“Will you let my friends live?” I asked.
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. I had to ask.”
“Any last words, Uncle?”
“Yeah.”
“It isn’t one of your speeches, is it?”
I smiled a little, considering the circumstances. “No. No speeches. Just this: If you are the villain, then I guess that makes me the hero.”
“Yeah, I guess it does. How the mighty have fallen.”
Behind me were pawns I had used. Pawns who became allies. Allies who became friends. And I was between them and Randy. A trail of my own blood led inexorably to this moment. Something about the finality of it all made me smile, just a little.
“Just pull the trigger, Randy. You only get one shot. Make it count, kid.”
“I will. Goodbye, hero.”
Randy pulled the trigger.
Chapter Sixty
Where I Reveal the First Rule of Villainy
The gun’s hammer fell. The impact struck the firing pin. The firing pin hit the bullet’s cartridge primer. Once the primer ignited, the charge would ignite the gunpowder, pushing the bullet down the length of the barrel, spiraling like a football, directly through my skull and my brain and out the back of my head.
Except the primer didn’t ignite.
It happens sometimes, like when an automatic pistol jams. In the world of gun enthusiasts, this is called a misfire. Right then and there, it was a miracle. And I took full advantage of that miracle.
I swung my right hand down, springing Nightfyr free from its magical bracelet, and slammed the heavy mace over Randy’s head. His eyes showed complete shock up until the moment when the mace collided with his skull. After that, his eyes glazed over as he hit the ground, knocked the fuck out.
I rummaged thought Randy’s pockets and found a pill bottle. I popped it open and took a couple of the twelve-hour release capsules. Immediately I felt power, my power, surge through me.
“Jackson!” Lydia said as she came to grab me from behind. “That was amazing!”
“I know.”
“Ass.”
“Also true.”
“How did you know that was going to happen?” Wren said as he came to stand next to me.
“Honestly? I didn’t,” I said as I looked over my shoulder at Valliar. “I just had faith.”
“That’s quite a leap of faith indeed,” Hawker said. He placed his battleaxe next to Randy’s throat. “Should we finish this?”
“No!!” Paige screamed, running into the room and throwing herself on her unconscious son. “Julie, don’t kill him. Please!”
“Move, Paige,” I said.
“Julie?” Lydia, Hawker and Wren asked together.
I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly. “My first name is Julian. Paige likes to call me Julie because it makes me angry. Do you wish to taunt me now that I have my power back?”
“No,” Hawker said, smiling.
“I am going to mock the shit out of you,” Lydia said. I guess she gets a pass. We had seen one another naked, and she was my baby-momma.
“You?” I asked Wren.
“My first name is Gaylord. I don’t have room to mock you.”
“Gaylord? Really? Did your parents not like you?”
“You see why I just go by Wren now?”
“Good choice.”
“You’ll let him live, Julie?” Paige asked.
“Paige, he was going to kill me. The only reason you are alive is because Randy forced you to rebel against me. You are a complete and utter worthless human being. But you are innocent of that sin. He is not.”
“If you kill him, then you have to kill me,” Paige said, laying her body against her only child’s.
There it was. Primal, animalistic nature. A mother protecting her son.
“Get . . . off me . . . Mother,” Randy said as his eyes flickered open.
“He’s trying to kill you,” Paige said.
“He would have done it already,” Randy said as his eyes came into focus, looking at me. His hands went to his pockets, searching.
I held up the pill bottle and shook them at him. “I’ve got your stash, kid.”
“How?”
“I took them from you while you were knocked out.”
Randy shook his head, then immediately regretted it. He turned away and then threw up. Concussions were like that. I’d had my share of them recently.
“How…” Randy spat out drips of vomit and bile, wiping it with the back of his sleeve. “How did you beat me?”
I smiled.
“How, goddamn it?! I followed all your rules!”
“Oh Randy,” I said, smiling. He really had been listening. I felt (slightly) sad about defeating him. There was an apt pupil in there. Perhaps too apt. Maybe that was why the Sith kept the Rule of Two. Train your replacement to take you out one day and become the master. If they succeed, then they deserve the position. If they fail, then they were never strong enough to be the master.
I knelt down next to Randy and lit a cigarette. I handed it to him and then I lit one for myself.
“Randy, I am truly impressed. I honestly am. You took to my lessons like no one ever had before. And you were this close to defeating me.” I held out my fingers a fraction of an inch apart. “But that was not close enough. Because there is one Villain’s Rule you never learned. The first rule. The most important, absolute rule. The one rule upon which all other rules are predicated.”
“Are you going to bore me to death, or are you going to spit it out?”
“Come on, Randy. You’re a smart young man—much to my surprise. Figure it out.”
Randy said nothing at first. His mind was replaying the events of our final showdown. I could see him searching for the missing piece of the puzzle. Over and over the look came across his face, the look that read, What did I miss?
Then it hit him.
Randy’s eyes went wide.
“No,” he said, looking at me in partial disgust and partial awe.
“Exactly. And the best part was, you made it come true. You said it yourself. In that last moment, you were the villain and I was the hero. So, Nephew, what is the First Villain’s Rule?”
Randy looked away and muttered something under his breath.
I flicked my cigarette away as I reached for my nephew. Grabbing the boy by the shirt, I shook the ever-living shit out of him.
“Say it!”
“The hero always wins!”
Epilogue
“Welcome back, sir!” Sophia said as I sat down at my desk.
“Thank you, Sophia.”
“And welcome, Ms. Barrowbride.”
“Um, thanks? And please, call me Lydia.”
“I most certainly will. May I?” Sophia asked, touching Lydia’s stomach before permission was given. “Oh, this one will be quite special.”
“Sophia, please see to our newest employee. She is most excited about starting right away. I’m sure you would take great joy in overseeing her orientation as her direct supervisor.”
“Oh indeed, sir,” Sophia said, heading to the door. “Oh, there are some new contracts on your desk for you to look over. A few realms’ overseeing gods have lifted their sanctions. Word has spread of your success and they would like you to come and shake things up for them.”
“Thank you. I will look them over soon.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Oh, two more things before you go.”
“Sir?”
“First, thank you for re-re-decorating,” I said.
“You are welcome, sir. And the second thing?”
“Are
you mad?”
“Mad, sir?”
“With how I succeeded?”
“Sir?”
“Becoming the hero. If only for the moment.”
Sophia paused at the door and then turned her attention to me. “May I speak freely?”
“Sophia, like you need permission.”
“Jackson,” Sophia said, choosing her words carefully, “you used every means available to you win. And win you did. You were dangerously close to becoming an anti-hero. But in the end, you got exactly what you wanted by manipulating the rules to your benefit. I couldn’t be more proud.”
“So you’re not going to kill me?”
“For this? No. Oh, please do not take this clemency for absolution. When you cease entertaining me, I will be the one who kills you. I will rip your soul from your body and burn the remains to ashes. I will feast off your life force until there is not one single atom of your existence remaining,” Sophia said. Her eyes now resembled a cat’s, and her mouth was filled with needle-like teeth.
“So, our deal stands?”
Her monstrous face snapped back to that of her normal human self. “Of course, silly! Now be a lamb and look over those contracts. I think you may like the top one. It is for the comic book realms.”
“Oh, that is interesting.”
“I thought you would like it. Take care, Lydia.”
“Bye?”
Sophia squinted her eyes when she smiled goodbye and left through my office door.
“Gods above and below, what is she?”
“Hmm?” I asked as I perused the comic book realm contract.
“Your . . . receptionist?”
“Sophia? Oh, she’s a Djinn.”
“I’ve heard of those, but I’ve never seen one before.”
“Every realm has them,” I said. “In each and every known realm, including the Prime Universe, legends speak of mystical creatures who have unfathomable power. In some legends they grant wishes. In others, they are bloodthirsty monsters. And as far as I can tell, they are descendants of the True Beings that created all known reality. Hence their power and ability to move across the dimensions with ease.”
