Page 3 of Heart of the Villain

Slowly, Marlena pulled herself up. The room spun, and nausea rolled her stomach so hard she had to reach out and steady herself.

Marlena might not know how long she’d been locked in here, but she did know if she didn’t eat soon, she wouldn’t have any energy left to fight… and as soon as the fight went out, it would be over for her. “I don’t want to die,” she said out loud, and the words sounded like an echo. Her thoughts were muddled, incoherent, and nothing felt real anymore.

Would her parents let her wither away in here for the sake of a power she wasn’t supposed to have mastered yet?

It wasn’t common for a nine-year-old to have full control over their ability, so why did she have to?

Marlena failed again and again, passing out in between attempts. Her body’s stored energy was dwindling, and everything took more effort to accomplish. Breathing hurt, her body ached, and her brain felt like mush. But the longer she stayed in here, the weaker she would get and the harder this would become.

So she pushed forward, determined to get out of here today.

Marlena watched as her body faded in the mirrors, the edges of her vision blurring from exertion. She blinked away the black spots and carried on, repeating to herself, Be stronger. Failing isn’t an option.

The middle, ring, and pinky finger of her right hand remained visible again, like they were mocking her.

Marlena balled up her fist and squeezed so hard her knuckles popped. She ignored the discomfort flitting through her body, focusing on the only thing that mattered.

Disappearing.

Marlena held strong even though her muscles quaked, begging to stop. She refused to fail this time. Through gritted teeth she screamed, puncturing the skin of her palms with her nails. Blood warmed her closed fists, trickling off her knuckles. A chill shot through her, and when Marlena glanced up from the floor at her reflection, blood dripped from midair like she wasn’t there.

Her fingers were gone, and so was the rest of her body.

Marlena pulled in a sharp breath, the sound of her heartbeat pattering in her ears. She didn’t move an inch, her nails digging further into her hand as her eyes scanned every mirror for any sign of her body.

There was no trace of Marlena. The only signs she’d ever been there were the droplets of blood littering the floor around her bare feet.

Marlena twirled around slowly, scared if she moved too fast or lost concentration, she’d lose her hold. “I did it.” She let out a breath, and with it, her body materialized back into view like she feared.

She cleared the room in a couple shaky steps, ready to test her exit. The door handle didn’t turn. Marlena jiggled it harder, shaking the door and its frame.

The noise vibrated through the room, perking Marlena up. The sound shield was gone.

“Mommy! Daddy!” she yelled, banging on the door. “I did it! I did it! I disappeared. Let me out, please! I’m so hungry.”

The door swung open, and standing before her was her mother, Ryanna Fugere-Caelum, in all her jaw-dropping beauty. Her long blonde locks wrapped around her head in a tight braid, and her chartreuse eyes scrutinized Marlena, raking up her body. “It took you a lot longer than it should have.” Ryanna sighed, pointing to the mirror directly across from her. “One more time.”

“Mommy—”

Ryanna interrupted. “‘Mommy’ is for babies. You are not a baby, Marlena.”

“Please, I just want to get out of here. I want food. Vega,” Marlena squeaked.

Ryanna reached for the door handle. “If you’re not going to show me that you can fully disappear on command, then I guess you need another night alone. You are an original bloodline. You are to be better than the others, stronger. You are not a commoner, and your powers will not be weak like theirs.”

Marlena lunged for the door and yanked it back by the handle with what little strength she had left. “No! I’ll do it. I can do it.”

Ryanna crossed her arms and waited, raising a brow.

Marlena tried until her body couldn’t hang on anymore, spiraling into burnout, and when she awoke this time, she was wrapped in her favorite blanket and no longer on the cold, hard floor of the room with the mirrors.

It’s over. You did it. There’s no more torture.

Eleven Years Old

They crowded around the fire, warming their cold hands. Khort turned around, shaking his butt too close to the flame.

"Khort!” Vega swatted at him. “You’re gonna burn your butt!” The kids all broke out into hushed giggles, trying not to draw too much attention to themselves.