Read Student's Work :: When the villain wins...

"That’s the thing, hero.” He spits at me, “The heroes have to win every time.” He grabs my hair, pushing me to the burning hot floor. “The villain, however, only has to win once.” He scoffs, throwing me towards the fiery blaze. “You’ll never understand why I am this way.” I struggle in the binds, feeling the fire licking at my clothes. “A hero without a villain is pointless.” He grabs my face and roars in my face, his brown eyes blazing almost as if made of the burning flames. Pure fear struck me, for the first time in my life. I was afraid of this man. “Yet, a villain without a hero.” He starts laughing to himself as he picks me up from my neck. “A villain without a hero is successful.” I can’t do anything but struggle as he throws me into the fiery depths. I can’t move, I can’t speak. It’s worthless. I’m going to die. I can feel my heart thumping. The fire touches me, I feel it enveloping. I struggle, even when there’s nothing I can do. I saved him.. I saved the villain, and this is what I got for it. The fire goes up my legs, attaching itself to the ropes tied tight around me. I can’t even cough anymore. I can smell the almost plastic scent of burnt flesh being torn off my body. I struggle as I feel fight or flight kicking in. I try to scream, to say anything as I feel myself being burned alive. Everything goes dark. I see his face again. That face had killed me right when he had the chance. Suddenly everything feels so cold, so, so cold. There’s a warmth on my face, on my eyes. And then suddenly I see his cold blooded face. But this time it's as if years had gone by. His dark brown skin was smoother, cleaner. His eyes held gentleness, a kind that a father has for their child. His brown eyes were still full of emotion but now, they held a softer, more calming position. His black hair was still as curly as ever, but now it was just an afro. As if he had been cleaned up, like some fortune had come over him in the short time I had died. Had I died? Had I been left for the burning woods of the forest? I didn’t know. There was a file, a name on it. His face washed away, turning into a picture as it floated away, and away, into the file. The next file I saw was a woman. She had warm tan skin, and honey cream eyes. She was smiling in this picture-esque state. She had a short bob with black hair. It curled around her chin and amplified her eyes to pop. Her face washed away, as if a paper in the wind flew directly into her own file. The next file arose, a young girl, maybe about five years old. Her frizzy black hair pulled into two different star puffs on the top of her head. Her skin, a warm umber coloration. Her eyes were like her mothers, two honey droplets in the deep chasm. I had never seen a child look so.. Mature. Her eyes shone like she still had a childhood to live through and yet it seemed as if she was mature enough to understand how this world worked. And her smile, it was so happy. It was the happiest I had seen a child, which by my count was twice now. The other time I had saved one when I was younger, he was in hysterics though. Her face washed away, just like the others. And then there was a name on the file. Glowing, bright, warm, happy. Hazel. Suddenly it seemed too hot, too warm. Everything started swirling together. The files started flipping through information, papers surrounding me as I get dragged down deeper and deeper. I fell hard. But when I hit the floor, it didn’t hurt. I didn’t feel the floor. Yet I knew I had landed. I was in some sort of bedroom, a child’s it seems. There were toys everywhere. On the floor, on the bed. Everywhere I looked. I stand up, finding myself in an interesting outfit. I was wearing shorts, barely brushing my knees. A bright pastel yellow. My shoes were a saturated yellow and I was wearing some kind of yellow fluffy shirt. Where was I? I feel airy, as if nothing could stop me from ever stopping moving if I really wanted to. Suddenly hear footsteps outside of the room, fast, not loud. They stop in front of the door, there’s a quiet noise that follows. Someone sniffling, as if trying to hold their tears inside. The door opens and I see it’s a small girl, the same one from the files. Our eyes meet and she quickly rushes to hug me. “Oh Lopsy, I hated it out there!!” Tears stream down her face as she barrels into me hugging me tightly. Lopsy? Who was Lopsy? Why was this little girl crying? I wrap my arms around her, hugging her back. Maybe I was in heaven, maybe my job was to guide all of the children. That seemed easy enough. “There there, little Starlight” I say, my voice sounding different. Am I alive? I can’t feel my throat, or my lips touching. She buries her face into my yellow fuzzy shirt, gripping it tightly. “I never want to do that again!”