The day you meet your Villain

The Seer

Casey put a period to the story she’d finally finished. Leaning back into the chair, she rubbed her fingers to her temples. The light from the laptop screen illuminated the room in a soft glow. There was also a light bulb hanging over the door at the far end of the room. Apart from that, the room was practically in shadows. Not that Casey was scared.

The door opened and the other two girls who happened to be her roommates strode in with clumsy steps. There was the stench of whisky that trailed along after them. They wore miniskirts and blazing colors of lipstick. Rima held a bottle of Champagne.

“To the crazy merriment of school life!” she declared holding the bottle up and Casey smiled a smile that showed her teeth.

“Well, how was tonight?” she asked with a yawn stretching her arms all the way they could go.

“We’re content,” Thelma replied already pulling off her clothes. “Like the rest of the many plain looking dishes, we are content to watch from the sidelines while the others have fun and… and… rigmarole.”

“Then come back before the party has even began with the story that we had the time of our lives,” Rima chirped in.

“Yeah, and come back with that.” Thelma burped “If only we had the looks.”

“And the dough,” Casey pointed out.

‘Yeah and that too.”

“That’s what comes from trying to fit into the crowd. Why don’t you take a cue from me and sit here in the dark writing scary stories.”

Rima made a mocking sound with her lips then hobbled into the bathroom. Thelma however managed to saunter over and crash sloppily on the desk. She shifted the monitor so the writings were legible then read the last words Casey had written:

“With one last thrust, Corinne knocked the ethereal being into the outer world and with one shrill scream, it disappeared into oblivion.” She turned to face Casey and belched tremendously in her face.

“It’s cool,” Casey announced.

“What did it say? Read it to me Thelma” Rima enquired moving about in the bathroom.

“Something fell into a pit,” Thelma replied.

“Rot!”

“That’s what it is.”

“It’s not rot. It’s awesome. I’m going to put it up on standing ears.” Casey argued.

“Now what’s that?” Rima enquired.

“That’s her stupid blog. Never wondered how she got all the spare change in her pocket?”

“What a laugh!”

‘But at least it pays the bills for the house and electricity.”

“Everyone is entitled to their own opinion” Thelma commented “I’ve seen girls who eat flakes and peanut butter together and think it is just fab.”

“I do that too.” Rima frowned.

“So you get my point.”

Casey closed the laptop, stood up and stretched. She went into the bathroom and past Rima who made derisive remarks about her book complete with sticking out a tongue after her. Not that she cared anyway.

***

Dean, tucked into bed, was feverish and restless. The throbbing in his head was quite unbearable. His eyes hurt, so he could hardly keep them open. He had no intention of falling asleep; it was only a few minutes past 8:00.

His younger brother, who was eleven, was moving all over the foot of his bed and that irritated him.

“Remises!” he managed to whisper “Stop that.”

Because he was so weak, his voice could hardly be heard and it made him livid that Remises, oblivious that he had spoken, carried on.

“Remises!” this time it was almost a murmur but not enough. “Stop that.”

The door opened and closed silently. Harriet, coming in with a large tray of drugs was a large woman with a bouncy bosom and a scowl on her face that though she might have been pretty, made her look old and morose. She’d been their step-mother for two years and like some stepmothers, treated the boys with scorn. With a sharp glance, she took in the scene and barked at the eleven year old.

“Get out of there this minute!”

Remises had three consecutive reactions. He looked up first in surprise, grimaced in fright then scampered off to his own bed at the other end of the room with a determined look on his face.

Harriet dumped the tray near Dean’s head. Lowering her bulk into the mattress, beside him, she scolded:

“You just have to fall sick sometime, don’t you?”

Dean looked up at her through hurting eyes. She scowled back, launching into a long blabber about just how terrible it was, taking care of him. Not that she did anything really, nor was it his fault at all.

“There was nothing I could do about it, ma” Dean replied.

“Shut up!”

Snapping off the containers of pills and pain killers, Harriet continued to nag. Then she put the drugs in her hand, frowned deeply at them and forced them into Dean’s mouth.

***

Later that night, Dean, still feverish, lay shaking on his bed. Remises slept soundly and softly at the other side of the room like one with no troubles at all. Dean envied him.

Just then, it began to rain. Dean stopped to listen, hearing the very familiar tap-tap-tap of rain drops on the roof, walls and windows. A smile spread over his face as a sudden rush of excitement consumed his whole being. He was a pluvophile. If he had been in better health, he would have leapt out of bed and gone to the window in no time. Now, feeling almost half dead, he carefully got out, moving with tired steps over to the window. Upon reaching it, he placed his burning fingers and forehead on the cool surface and heaved a relief sigh. It was a soothing balm to the ache so he closed his eyes, listening to the continuous tapping of the raindrops speaking to him in some mysterious language. He sighed contentedly.

At that moment, there was a great spark of lightning in the sky. Dean opened his eyes to find the flash travel with precise speed in a sharp, streaking pattern towards him and crash on the window. He dropped to the floor in awe. Looking around him frantically, he was amazed to find the bright silver glow from the lightning linger for just one brief moment, illuminating the room in its luminosity then vanished.

The next thing that happened took Dean completely by surprise. Remises who had earlier on, lay peacefully in bed suddenly woke up with a start. When he sat up, Dean saw that his face had paled and he looked horror-stricken. Remises stared ahead of him and pointed. His scream was drowned by the roaring sound of thunder that shook the house, mantles and all. Dean put his hands to his ears as the noise died away. Remises was still screaming in a loud, frightened note.

‘Stop that!” Dean commanded. Remises acknowledged this order and stopped screaming. However, he still looked in front of him with a hard, direct gaze at something that when Dean looked himself seemed invisible. Dean looked at his younger brother. Remises was white, visibly frightened yet watching, stupefied at something. Dean, his fever forgotten, dashed over to him. Clutching him by his shoulders, he gave him a good shake and Remises’ eyes came to focus looking into his brother’s that showed great curiosity. Remises was breathing hard and sweating. Then his gaze shifted and he looked behind Dean his mouth dropping open in fear. His eyes moved, following something and Dean looked sharply but again saw nothing or no one. Yet Remises’ gaze followed to the door then he looked straight back at his brother. His eyes were red and watery.

Dean went over to the door and shut it before Remises let out a sigh of relief. After making sure it was locked, Dean returned beside his brother. He stretched his hurting limbs on his bed and stared up the ceiling in deep thought. Remises was weak, worn-out and tired. When he had pulled himself together, when he was ready, he would tell him all about it.

***

Casey turned in bed hoping sleep would creep into her eyes from that other side. The time, she guessed, must have been inching to eleven. She sighed then turned to the other side again. Rima was snoring contentedly in the bed below her. She was sprawled over on her bunk and comfortable. Casey heard a flick from the bed below Rima’s. Oh no. there was another flick then after a few moments, she sniffed a whiff of cigar smoke.

“Give me a break,” Casey who had no love for cigarettes fumed

“You’re awake?” Thelma asked inhaling smoke

“I am. Will that be enough for you to crush that thing?”

Thelma made a show of thinking hard. “No.”

“I thought so.”

Thelma drew more smoke into her lungs then puffed them out from her nose. The curly rings of smoke rose up. Casey watched them disappear. She frowned.

“Well, any chance you’ll fall asleep soon?” Thelma asked

“No.”

They grew silent. Outside, rain began to splatter suddenly increasing into a downpour.

“Now it’s going to be cold,” Casey remarked wriggling into the mattress.

“So what was that story of yours about?” Thelma enquired. Casey’s forehead furrowed.

“I though you said it was rot?”

“When is it ever rot?” Thelma asked seriously and Casey couldn’t help but blush.

“I’m just that good, aren’t I?” she teased but Thelma didn’t reply. After a moment Thelma sighed and said:

“Sometimes I can’t help but envy you. I even find myself wishing on some days that I could live the life you lead.”

Casey drew a sharp intake of breath.

‘You’re a cool kid, Cay,” Thelma continued “You earn money to pay off your expenses. You’re smart, good looking, creative… very creative. You have a bright future ahead of you.” She paused to think then added “You really are sure to make it big.” She put the cigarette to her lips.

Casey rolled her eyes. It seemed the night’s alcohol was hitting on her friend. Now she had the task of making her feel better. She tried:

“There’s no need wishing to be anyone but you. For one, you’re a good cook.”

“Yeah and where will that get anyone?”

“It can get you a husband”

“Only the fat ones”

Casey thought again. The rain continued to fall. “You sing very well. You voice is amazing.”

“I’ve lost whatever voice I had with all this smoking.”

“You have a good heart”

“I don’t disagree but that doesn’t mean there’s any other good to see”

“And we can’t really say you have good looks now can we?”

“No, not that either.”

Casey sighed in resignation. “Well, what do you know? You really are hopeless now aren’t you?”

When Thelma didn’t reply, she added “But at least no one can beat you in any drinking contest.”

She heard Thelma scoff so she went on “You’re the one girl I know who can drink so much whisky and yet remain sober. Look, Rima is already snoring her way home.”

Thelma giggled. “Not to talk of these cigarettes.”

“Oh and that too,” Casey giggled along “What need you feeling bad when you have so many great talents? You’d win any smoking contest held somewhere in some stinking alley. We just hope the pay is good, clean and not stolen property.”

Thelma laughed. “Alright! You’ve made your point.”

Just then, there was a powerful split of lightning in the sky and as Casey watched, it seemed to streak right through the dark clouds and alight upon the window lighting up the room in a shimmering silver glow.

“What the hell!” Thelma’s cry of surprise was drowned by a crashing sound of thunder that almost shook the house from its foundations. The glow had disappeared and the sound of the rain was audible pattering of the roof and walls. The duo went silent, watching, waiting. There was nothing more.

Casey heaved a sigh then settled back in bed. After a while she said, “Some rain.”

“Yeah.” Thelma crushed the cigarette. “So what was the story about? That’ll put me to sleep.”

“It must be the scariest I’ve written yet. Even I, find it creepy. You see, there are these three kids who’ve gone missing: Paul, Connor and Delmar. Say! You were in it too.”

“I was?” Thelma was curious

“Yeah, at least the character I had in mind seemed very much like you.”

“Was I their mother?”

Casey shook her head. “Nah, you were something else entirely.”