Black and White and Red All Over
Civilian thought that she was marrying a hero, but discovers that he’s actually a villain (make him evil hahaha)
I have a feeling I don’t have to say this given the request but…this one is a little dark.
TWs: murder mentions, murderer (main character), discussion of death (not of main characters), forced marriage, threats, domestic abuse (not physical though there is a wee bit of manhandling)
“I thought I told you to stay out of this room.”
Civilian gasped, chest tightening with her too-large breath. She spun in the computer chair, facing the person she once called her lover. Once, as if it weren’t every moment before she walked into this room. Now she wasn’t sure what to call him.
“The door,” she said, “was left wide open. I was just looking for a key since I know you usually leave it locked.” And this was the truth; Civilian really had been looking for a key. It wasn’t in plain sight, but you know what was? The items in her lap. “What are these? Why do you have a bunch of crime cut-outs?” After receiving no response, Civilian asked, “Are they related?”
Of course, Civilian did her best to not assume the worst. Villain must have been a private investigator, a…an agent or something. Maybe she wasn’t allowed in this room because this was all classified; the investigation itself was secret. But- well, these were casual murders. Casual. They weren’t- dare Civilian say- ‘important’ deaths. Not state senators or presidents or monarchs from around the world.
Licking his lips, Civilian’s fiancé stepped into the room, pushing the door shut behind him until it made two soft clicks. The room was small, and reasonably so seeing as it only served one purpose. “This is my trophy room.”
Trophy room? Civilian tried to imagine he meant these- these clippings were all cases her fiancé was on, that he had been working on them and that’s why they were here. But then…why newspaper clippings? Those weren’t released until there was a gruesome report made. And even if he kept the clips as trophies, wouldn’t he want news which revealed the case was closed- that the culprit was found and being punished?
“I- I saw all of these on the news, Villain. They weren’t- they haven’t been solved.” The news station was good at keeping the community updated. Something terrible happened, they covered it, they kept up on it until all was well. There were updates nonstop. These…they were all still mysteries. So, what did Civilian’s love mean, ‘This is my trophy room?’ What does he mean?
“Yes?” Villain chuckled lightly, throwing Civilian into a deeper fit of confusion- and now worry. “And I should hope they’re not solved anytime soon.”
“What do you- Villain. Villain, what are these?” Civilian stood from the chair, waving the paper stack back and forth in the air, not caring to look at how the corners caught the air and nearly flew out of her hand.
Villain only laughed again. Didn’t he already tell her what they were?
What to do, what to do? Villain could try to play it off, continue to act into this charade he already lived in, or…or he could have fun. Tell Civilian the truth, make her brain spin like a carousel gone wrong, if only to watch, and if only to soak in the fact that he himself was the cause of such a reaction.
“What’s black and white and read all over?”
“Wha- I’m not in the mood for riddles right now. Tell me what this is.”
Was she in the wrong here? Civilian did walk into the room Villain asked her to stay out of, the one he even locked. But didn’t that justify her actions? He locked it. Why did Villain feel such a great need to keep Civilian out of this room?
If it were for simple privacy, he would trust Civilian not to go in- though maybe this fact affected their compatibility more than Villain’s suspicious actions. Civilian ignored the possibility, continuing in her suspicions. This was big enough that he needed to lock it, which meant it was surely something dastardly, something Civilian should know about before marrying Villain.
“Oh, come on. Three guesses. It’s the answer to your question.”
Civilian knew the answer. She’d only heard this riddle a billion times. “A newspaper. I already know that’s what this is. I want to know-”
Villain interrupted, “You’re wrong.”
“What do you mean I’m wro-”
“Red. The colour red- a noun, not a verb. Though I suppose you are still right, in your own way. Not in mine.” Villain walked with a shoulder forward, walking sideways, dodging Civilian as he stepped right passed her, plopping down in his computer chair. “What is black and white and red all over?” he asked again. This time, he answered the question himself, “The newspapers detectives tried to confront me with before I killed them.”
The statement was so blunt that Civilian couldn’t believe it- no, no. She couldn’t process it. “The newspapers detectives confronted me with,” she repeated in a whisper, her eyes seeming to be glued to the clippings in her hand, when in reality they were unfocused.
“You missed saying the best part.” Villain’s mouth bunched up to one side in disappointment. “Before I killed them,” he said again. “You didn’t even flinch at that part, yet you couldn’t say it. Denial, maybe?”
Civilian shook her head, her free hand reaching behind her until she grasped the doorknob. She tried to turn it, to fling it open before running out, but she only found herself facing the closed door as she swivelled on a heel and stepped forward.
“Thought you might try to do that. Can’t let you spread the word around, right?”
The door was locked. Of course, all it would take for Civilian to open the door would be to twist that little bar on the knob before opening the door, but it couldn’t be done in time before Villain reached out, grabbed Civilian’s arm, and pulled her away from her only escape. Civilian couldn’t scream, couldn’t speak as she was spun to the other side of the room, back striking the wall. She was frozen, placid in her fear.
“I can’t tell if I regret telling you yet. We were about to wed- that could have been interesting. Say”- Villain smiled- “how about we still marry? Might be nice to come home to a wife who I can tell the most fun stories to.” He laid a hand on Civilian’s cheek, as if he really did love her, as if she could still foolishly love him. “And how entertaining for you to learn how to get away with murder- if you ever wanted to.”
“I would never,” Civilian managed, but it was rasp. With a sudden bout of manic determination, she pushed Villain’s hand harshly off her cheek. She only swallowed when he smiled, a soft reminder that he was a murderer- not just a murderer. Villain was a serial killer. Civilian would have taken a step back if she weren’t already pushed back against the wall.
“Well, even if you have no wish to, you tell people what I do and you’ll be imprisoned, too.”
She wouldn’t be imprisoned. “I- I have nothing to do with what you’ve done.”
“Not what I’ve done,” Villain said. “It’s what I’m doing. And anyway, no one would believe the girl who lived with a murderer, who married him after knowing. And I don’t plan on hurting you, so it’s not as if anyone could prove I forced you into this life.” He shrugged. “Of course, there are other ways of forcing a person to do what you want. I could kill more. You have two younger siblings.”
