This started out as me practicing writing monologues in story form, and it created the character that I posted on Imaginary Friends Anonymous. I have another one like it on my blog that I'm not posting here.
"You think I'm like a villain from one of your storybooks, don't you, little bookworm?" Maeryn mocked, walking around me. She leaned in close and whispered in my ear, "But I'll tell you a secret: this isn't a fairytale. This is real life, and in real life good doesn't always conquer evil." She stood, her cloak billowing, and her voice grew louder. "Why else do you think you couldn't outrun me? It did not matter that you are good and kind; I was more clever, more cunning, more determined to get what I want," she smiled maliciously, "Even if what I want isn't nice." She strode around me for a minute, studying me. I tried to keep my face impassive despite the racing of my heart, though I'm not sure I succeeded.
"Pity that you chose to side against me," she continued, still studying me. "You would have made a nice addition to my entourage." She laughed softly and tucked a strand of my hair back behind my ear. "Pity," she repeated, "that your pretty face had to be accompanied by such courage, " her hand moved to rest on my chest, and disgust filled her voice as she said, "and such a good heart."
She walked away suddenly, but stopped midway to the door. She turned back to me, the anger back in her eyes. "I want that heart removed," she said icily. For a moment there was silence. "Guard!" she screeched, and one of the men by the door stepped forward and saluted. "Did you hear what I said? I want the girl's heart!" she shouted, then turned her eyes to me, a menacing grin on her face. "And, just like in your stories, bookworm, I want it on a silver platter." She swooped down on me and whispered so only I could hear, "I never said I would be merciful and kill you before they carve it out, did I... keep that in mind." She must have felt me tense, because she laughed softly. "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, 'Where's my happy ending?' Well, little hero, this is my story with my happy ending, not yours." And she swept from the room without another word, slamming the door behind her.
I didn't get to fully give my opinion today at lunch.
ReplyDeleteI think the creepiness in of itself is spot-on for her kind of character. Don't necessarily shy from creepy, as long as it isn't the kind that will make you go and commit serious crimes (mild crimes, on the other hand...)
No, seriously: I would work a little on the dialogue to make it seem more natural. And I would review the word choice to make the most of the vileness of this villain. Milk it, I say! If a reader visibly shudders, you've done your job.