The Villain Complex

The Villain Complex

The attic was dark and musty. The lights gave off just enough light for me to see my hands. Two dead adults lay lifeless on the floor. Their young teenage son stood in front of me. His fist clinched in raw and bitter rage. "Get away from me!!" The young boy, about the age of 14, screamed at me. His face red from crying, his eyes wrapped up in fear. I looked back and smirked at him. He gasped and backed up a few steps as I began to command the shadows to swallow him into the dark cider, dirty, attic floor. "Any last words?" I asked with a dark smirk plastered across my face. I walked closer to him crouched down in front of him. He was at this time almost completely swallowed into the floor. I held up my hand to stop the ground from consuming anymore of him.

At this the time the only parts of his body that wasn't swallowed up was his upper shoulders, necks and head. "P-Please don't kill me... I-I.. Y-You wouldn't do this to me! I-I'm just a kid, r-remember?" He begged for his life. I softly chuckled and rolled my eyes. "You weren't a kid a few moments ago..." I remarked, grabbing one of the boy's numerous Batman comics lying around the attic. "You see this guy?" I questioned, holding the comic in front of his face and pointing at The Joker. "Y-Yeah.. That the Joker." He told me, a small whimper in his voice. "If logic was applied. He would win. But since heroes always win as it seems. He will never win... But I intend on changing that. There are no heroes here. Is there, boy?" I got up from my crouching position and started to walk to the doorway. "I hope you enjoy your death." I darkly laughed as the darkness finished consuming him. I heard him yelp as the life was taken from him.

I smirked as I walked out the house, the only light source being the moon above.

I made my way past the high-class part of city into the lower slum levels. The welcomed smell of cigarette smoke, poor quality beer and old blood entered my nostrils. "Nice to see you too." I happily sighed as I breathed in the smells. The lower city was dark and gritty. Most of the lights were either burnt out, or shoot. And the ones that were burnt out barely gave out enough light.

"Hello, Erik! You look happier than usual!" A homeless man remarked with a horselaugh. "I am..." I mumbled, putting my hands in my pocket.  

"Why?" He asked, standing up and wrapping his arm around my neck. I gagged, as I smelt the rotten food and old beer on his breath. "Because..." I muttered, controlling the darkness around him to throw him back into the garbage cans behind him. "... Don't ever come near me again, dirty bum!" I warned in a growl. And began to walk back to my apartment.

I walked up the old, half-rotten, wooden stares. "Here I am." I mumbled as I grabbed the keys out my pocket and jammed them into the keyhole. I turned the key and opened the door. I looked around the room. The sofa worn and had holes covering the cushions. The lights in the room were almost entirely burnt out. I tiredly made my way to my bed and fell back. Mice scarred in fear as the bed shook. Today had been a long day. I had barely made it out of there alive. And I knew a police investigation would be filed. But I'd be ready. I knew it.

(3rd Person POV)  

*Crime Scene*

"Have you found anything, Velmaior?" A husky, muddle aged, police officer asked the thin, tall pale skinned, black haired vampire. "No, I checked the entire house, only two dead corpses. No sign of the son. He seemed to have disappeared out of thin air." Velmaior explained, rubbing his tongue over his fangs. Ciouin Velmaior was a vampire from the suburbs of California. Before moving to Vergessene Stadt. He had never been a minute out of his new, modern day home since the start of the century. The lower city just seemed to fit him. There was no sun. So he didn't have to worry about bursting into flames, unlike his previous home. He was also pretty normal looking in this city. There was a reason this city was called the "Forgotten City" when translated to English from German. "Velmaior, we have a kidnapping on our hand!" The officer exclaimed loudly. By this this time they had gained quite the crowd. "Officer Pete, sir, I don't think this is a--"

"Come on, Velmaior! We should get going!" Officer Pete grabbed Velmaior and dragged him to the old, police car.

"The way they were murdered is what disturbs me the most..." Velmaior thought as he looked out of the window of the police car. "They didn't even struggle... It's almost like were smothered to death. But I didn't see anything that could have been used. The attic was barren. Strange..." Velmaior finished thinking as the car went to a screeching halt. Velmaior sighed and exited the car.