Between Heroes and Villains

Evil Lair

We flew for what felt like an hour. Long enough for my stomach to start growling. I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast and was really banking on that sandwich in my purse. Maybe he'd let me eat it? I really needed to pee too. What's the supervillain stance on the treatment of hostages? Is there like a convention or something? As I pondered these essential questions we came to an old warehouse outside of the city limits. Stereotypical bad guy hang-out spot.

We landed on the roof and walked to the corner where there was a freight elevator.  We took it down all the way into the basement of the building. His abode wasn't half bad actually. I mean I don't know what I was expecting, maybe a few blood circles, some chains. It actually was a pretty decently polished modern looking home. A nice modest leather couch sat in front of a 50-inch tv, a collection of superhero movies on BluRay organized alphabetically on a nearby rack. An amazing kitchen, with chrome countertops (which I wouldn't have thought wouldn't work but it totally worked). He even had a pinball machine in the corner. I had to hand it to him. For all his evil deeds, Black Saigon had decent tastes.

When we got into his "inner sanctum" as he called it he was a surprisingly good host. "Would like anything to drink?" He asked, again in his high pitched voice. "I have La Croix."

I stared at him, dumbfounded. "Why did you kidnap me?"

He blinked back. "I needed a way out of there." And then more sheepishly. "Plus I really love your morning show. Very fair and balanced reporting."

"So I've heard. So if you just needed me to escape why bring me back here?"

"I like entertaining."

I looked at him perplexed.

He continued, "Being a villain gets pretty lonely at times. I mean it's not like I can get an evil pet or something. It's pretty solitary."

"But you are evil right?"

He scoffed. Which with his voice being as it was sounded more like a flatulent passing through a woodwind. "I am what I have to be to fix the world as I see fit. This Grado came into the picture and suddenly he's the embodiment of all that is good in the world? Please, he's a putz, a pretender, a poser. Mark my words he will turn his back to the world some day for his own selfish ambition."

"It sounds as though you know him."

"I did once. A long time ago." He stared off into the distance as if lost in a memory he didn't think of often.

"Restroom?" I asked.

"Oh yeah sure. The third door down the hall to your right." I start towards it. "Oh and Julie, no escape attempts, please. I just got this place set how I like it and wouldn't want to muck it up with pretty reporter blood."

Unsure what to make of the situation I made my way to the bathroom. Along the walls, I passed framed newspaper articles. Headlines like UNKNOWN MAN SAVES CHILD FROM BUS CRASH and CAPED HERO FOILS BANK ROBBERY. Strange, it was like he obsessed over Grado.

I did my business and came back to find Saigon had left. On his counter was a note saying he stepped out for supplies and would be back in an hour. He also added that Game of Thrones was on his DVR if I wanted to watch it. Next to the note was a folded blanket and a water bottle. For a villain this guy sure was thoughtful.

Of course, I tried to escape. I looked for windows, air vents. The only way out was the elevator and to call it you needed a key. So I decided to hunker down. I ate my sandwich, drink the water, and turned on his tv. I found that I'd been reported missing and of course channel five had exclusive coverage, even interviewing my dad. He pleaded to Saigon that I'd be kept safe.

I shut the news off and decided to explore a bit. I found one door to be locked. I assumed this was his bedroom. I the next door was a jar and I found what seemed to be a workshop of sorts. On the wall were quickly made blueprints and intricate schematics for strange contraptions. There were notes scribbled everywhere, most of which I couldn't discern a purpose.

I heard the familiar droning of the fright elevator coming back down. I quickly left the workshop and sat back on the couch. The elevator came to stop a few seconds later. Black Siagon stepped out carrying what looked to be several grocery bags.

"Do you like Chinese Takeout?" He squeaked.

"I already ate." I say.

"Oh, okay." He walked into the kitchen, setting the bags down. He started pulling out containers of food marked China First Takeaway.

"Did you rob a takeout place?" I asked, wondering what that must have been like.

"No, I'm not a savage." He said offended. "I had it delivered by carrier."

"How evil of you." I sat up.

Siagon sighed. "I'm not evil. I'm just- I'm just doing what I have to do."

"Which is?"

"Taking Grado down. You sure you don't want any of this?" It smelled delicious. Sesame Chicken if I wasn't mistaken.

"No. I am kidnapped right?"

"Yeah." He paused for a second, scooping the food onto a plate. "Mostly."

"Mostly? I mean are you going to let me go?"

He took the plate of food and remaining bags to the room I'd been investigating earlier. "Sure." He said shutting the door behind him.

"When?" I yelled through the door. No response.