Hello there!
It's been a while hasn't it? I don't know what's gotten into me, but I had a new found interest in my blog. I love to write, but I realized that I've been downplaying myself. I want to step up my game. Therefore, I have decided to set up a challenge for myself, and hopefully you'll come around for the journey ahead...
My challenge is to write something (anything!) every other day, and if possible everyday. Since it's been a while since I sat down and typed out priceless literature, I decided to go to the subreddit
/r/WritingPrompts/ . The link shows a site that posts ideas for writing, and although ideas aren't what's keeping me back, my fear of rejection or failure to write something good is a big barrier. Hopefully, if I started out writing based on ideas I know are good, I will transition to ideas of my own. I hope you like it, and if you were to take up the challenge with me, it would be awesome if you were to send a link to your own blog so I can check it out.
I Want To Be Free!
Just like everyday, he woke up, and dragged himself to the kitchen. He sat at the table as one of his minions prepared his coffee, and another prepared his omelet. He blankly stared out the window, going through his checklist for today, when the cook brought over the plate. He didn't want to yell at the poor man for dropping his plate, in fact, he wasn't angry at all, but somehow an outburst exploded out of him; so powerful and intense the minion was on the floor bleeding and crying. He wanted to lean down and comfort him, apologize even, but something held him back. Everyday, he realized this force controlling him to do things against his will. They were malicious things that sucked at his soul, but he had no ability to change it...at least that's what he thought.
You see, he came from a long line of villains. His great-great-great-grandfather was the first of a long line of villains. He was feared by all for his talent of arson and world domination, even his nemesis attempted to avoid him at all costs. His son carried on the tradition by starting a League of the Malevolent (he was also a poet on the side), and thus, his fate was determined: he would be evil.
At first, it seemed like a blast. He remembered his grandfather tell stories of defeating Superman, taking over cities and terrorizing teachers (his worst enemy at the time). He recalled his father appear on the news, name sprawled over every network in big, bold font. He had memorabilia for all of his favorite villians; The Joker smiling at him as he slept, Magento chanting demeaning phrases to him as he brushed his teeth, and Cat Woman adorning his lunch box for school. That was his destiny, his future, and he yearned for the day he could take over the League and see himself on the news taking down the ever-so-beloved superheroes. Then it happened, just a week after his father was crippled by The Avengers, Azazel Cor took over the League at the young age of 24.
Finally! This was his dream being achieved! He signed that contract with gusto that couldn't be shaken off...for about a year. It turned out the process was much more morally bruising to him than he thought it would be. With every innocent person he killed, every bank he robbed, and every superhero he dramatically left on the verge of the death, his excitement died gradually. He realized this isn't what he wanted, but he couldn't escape it. He could never tell anyone how much he hated holding a school bus full of children hostage, or that he wanted to go to Paris, or that he thought his wife's hunger for hurting others made him hate her even more. Thirteen years of this miserable, vile life, was...
"What are you doing?" Azazel said to the...WRITER?
What? How...? Are you talking to me?
"Yes?" He said hesitantly, "Why are you reading to me my back story and explaining all of my inner thoughts?"
I must be going mad. YOU'RE MY CHARACTER, I CONTROL YOU, OK? There's no way...
"Wait, you're the one who has forced me to do all of these malicious things all my life?"
...yes.
"How dare you! All this time? Oh my Go...this means my entire life is a piece of literature, dictated by some loser at some computer?"
Hey! I am a...
"No! You have no right to be offended here. My whole life is a lie, every action I've ever done has been written by you, and I had no choice but to comply. I can't believe this."
He rested his face on his...
"Stop that!" Azazel sh...."I mean it!"
Sorry...I don't know what to do here, man. I've never heard of this ever happen. I didn't even know it was possible. Is there anything you would like me to do as compensation for all of this?
He paused for a moment, deep in thought.
"Yes, actually. I want you to...I want you to make me not evil. I want you to write that I left the League, I divorced my wife, and will be boarding a flight to any exotic European country by tomorrow."
Hmmm, well there are a lot of nice places in...Wait! No! That will make for the most boring story ever! I can't do that, I refuse.
"Oh really?" He said with a smirk, "How do you think people are going to respond when they realize that their lives are being written for them, I bet it would lead to a pretty tragic story for you, huh?"
Actually, that sounds like a great concept for a book. It would be a more enjoyable read than seeing you go to Spain and take up salsa lessons.
"What? No. I don't want that!"
I don't really care anymore Mr. Cor, my story; my rules. Very simple.
"How dare...." Azazel said slowly in a whisper as the author regained power over the character.
Against his will, he walked down to his lair, where the camera was set up for a live broadcast to the world. He sat at the desk, and delivered the news to the people of Earth. At first, they doubted him, but as he explained it more, they could sense that pull to do what was demanded of them. Fear spread though each individual as the viewers sat, paralyzed, absorbing these facts given to them by the person they had once all mistrusted. It appeared that their world was all a lie, and even the most evil man in their universe was not as he appeared. The live broadcast ended, and time paused as Azazel looked to the author.
"Thank you," he said with a sigh of gratitude, relief beaming on his face.
The author smiled at him, through the screen, preparing for taking over the load of being the villain.
***
What did you think? I would love to know if you liked it or not, and I would love to see your own responses. Have a great day!
