Downfall of the Monologue

The villain always wears a suit. You ever notice that? Every villain you ever meet looks damn good. It’s a representation of power, I suppose; of prestige. An Armani suit sends a message, and the message is: I know what I want, and I know how to get it.

And yet, we always root for the other one. The scraggly underdog who shows up in a hoodie and an old pair of sneakers and not a single business course under her belt. Just snarky comebacks and maybe a convenient superpower granted to her by the cosmos. And seriously? What the hell is that?

I wasn’t born with super-speed or invisibility or laser-eyes. I didn’t stumble into an abandoned science lab in Ohio and contract some virus that turned out to be the gift of levitation. Or however the hell it happens these days.

No.

I built myself from the ground up. I worked my ass off all through tech school, learned to build whatever I didn’t have. I earned people’s respect through nothing more and nothing less than my work ethic, my unflinching ability to look at a problem and solve it. And yes, sometimes solving it means making sacrifices. Sometimes people get in the way, and you do what you have to.

So here I am, suddenly the villain in the Armani suit (though I prefer Burberry), doing what’s necessary and getting condemned for it. And now here comes the doppelganger of Little Red Freakin’ Riding Hood, rolling up twenty minutes late, on foot, in her dumb, red hoodie with a damn hole in her sneaker. It’s insulting, is what it is.

And even now, I can tell you’re rooting for her. You haven’t even said anything, but I can tell. Granted, it might be the tape over your mouth, but still. It’s in your eyes. You want her to win. But the thing is, even if she beats me, she won’t solve anything. I’m the problem solver, and the problem is one that can only be fixed by someone who has my resolve, someone who is willing to make the hard choices.

You think Little Red over there could wipe out half of Cincinnati just to protect the few, non-infected people who are left in the world? No. But Cincinnati is ground zero. That’s how we stop this infestation. I know you don’t see it that way. You call them heroes, genetic miracles. I don’t know why you think this isn’t a disease. Just because the symptoms happen to be super-strength and mind-reading doesn’t mean it isn’t an infection that needs to be snuffed out before it spreads. Humanity is in danger, and I seem to be the only one who understands the gravity of the situation and...holy shit, did Red bring friends? Okay, now I’m insulted.

I specifically told her to come alone. You heard that, right? I said “Come alone, or your brother dies.” I was very specific. Very clear. Guess she doesn’t value your life much, huh buddy?

Look, I’m not happy about having to kill you, believe me. Despite your feelings to the contrary, I am not the bad guy here. I’m only trying to do what’s….

Wait.

Did you hear that?

Wait.

Wait wait wait.

No, this cannot be happening!

I planned for this! I planned for all of this! You can’t…

Goddamnit.