Prompt: Let's Hear it for the Antagonist

[Prof. Sky Alton]

Antagonists are a crucial part of many stories. They present your hero with challenges to overcome and often are one of the primary forces driving the action of the plot forward. Many antagonists are well-developed and complex characters in their own right - sometimes they’re so interesting that we wish we could see the story from their perspective too.

For this prompt, we’d like you to write a story (200 words or more) from the point of view of someone who would usually be viewed as the antagonist or the villain. It could be a totally original piece or a retelling of an existing story. Do they view themselves as ‘the bad guy’? Or do they see their actions as justified? Perhaps it’s a mixture of both. Providing you put the antagonist at the heart of it, anything goes.

You’ll earn 20 beans for completing this prompt as well as it counting towards the chance to snag our shiny Quill and Ink award.

There is no deadline as such for these prompts but if you’d like it to count towards your chance of earning the award for a specific year, we’ll need it by the end of that school year. If you’re comfortable sharing, then post below. If not, email your story to us via hol.bookclub @ gmail.com (without the spaces). Oh and remember it’s a good idea to check through your piece carefully for spelling and grammatical errors as they make it harder for people to properly enjoy your work.

[Aura Nightmoon]

She thought she was doing the right thing. To destroy all of that which held them inside of a prison, in life and in death. She wanted to see him again, but what would he think of her now? The boy was right. She had always believed in free will, but free will was a lie. Yet, no one saw or would understand the importance of her actions. The burning of the tree saw to that. Her words outside of the city, spoken aloud for all to hear for miles around had left her alone. All except for her champion, yet even he was now out of her reach.

She regretted taking away the boy's freewill. She knew the pain of having one's soul feel as if it were being sucked out with every deed, every performance forced to make. But it was always going to be the boy. If anyone could withstand that pain, it would be him.

She frowned, the boy's words playing over in her mind. She was not a fool. She knew she was being used as much as she was using him. But if it could allow loved ones to be together again, this would have been worth it. Even if no one could forgive her, she had no other choice. This was the only way. If only they knew. If only they could understand the pain and the torment, the longing for a young soul lost too soon, one she may never see again if she failed.

She would not fail, even if it meant losing herself to the darkness.

[Viviana Kingston]

Tesla didn’t quite understand the situation she had gotten herself in. She usually had the entire city quaking in fear, but here she was, weak in the knees because of the city’s golden boy, Julien. The problem here wasn’t the fact he was a superhero, always foiling her plans. The problem was she was sure she hated him.

But the butterflies in tummy said otherwise. She was sitting across him in a pretty and vintage diner, waiting for their dinner to be served. It was a comfortable silence, so Tesla didn’t mind the fact that Julien was on his phone. Noticing she was staring, he looked up at her and put his phone aside, swiping out of his applications until it reached the home screen.

The home screen had a familiar face staring back at her before the screen blackened and she met Julien’s gaze. “Am I your wallpaper?” she asked, jerking her chin in his phone’s direction.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. It mimicked the look he had every time he walked away after destroying her hopes of succeeding. It sprayed pesticide on the butterflies and the nervousness she had bubbling in my chest immediately subsided. She needed to focus and not get caught up in her emotions.

The whole point of rendezvousing with his alter ego was to find something or anything to get the upper hand on him. But the only thing she learnt was he had no family, his favourite colour was green (nothing like the blue get-up he wore) and he had a surprising love for daisies.

He reached out for her hand and Tesla let him take it. He rubbed his thumbs across her knuckles gently, a gesture that would have made putty in his hand if it was anyone else. “You know, I think you might be my soulmate.” he said.

Tesla was unable to get a word out. She froze. It had only been a couple of weeks she had been meeting him, so hearing sweet nothings was something she didn’t expect, not from him. She pulled her hand away, placing it in her lap.

“I don’t think you should be saying that.” she said, quietly. Maybe it was time to come clean. Being a villain was one thing, but she didn’t intentionally break hearts.

Julien, tilted his head, an amuse look pasted on his face. “It’s how I feel. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t genuinely believe it.”

“I’m not who you think I am.” she whispered. Maybe it was a lapse of judgment admitting so. Maybe she was getting weak and losing her touch at being cold. But she had morals. Wicked and twisted morals that made her do the craziest of things but nevertheless they existed.

“Oh, tell me something I don’t know.” Julien said, calmly. The waitress had brought a big tray from which she took their orders off from and placed them in front of the two. When the waitress left, he leaned in. “Even I’m not who I say I am, but I’m sure you know that already.”

Tesla was taken aback. What did he possibly mean? Did he know Tesla knew that he was a superhero? “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Sure you do.” he said, picking up his knife and fork and cutting into the T-bone steak he had order. He gestured with his knife to her vegan salad. “Aren’t you going to dig in?”

Reluctantly, Tesla clutched at her utensils, stabbing at the salad rather than eating it. “I need answers. If you’re not going to talk to me, I’m going to leave.”

It took several moments of the grating sound and no reply from Julien for Tesla to make her decision. It was huge mistake coming and an even bigger one trying to stick to her morals. She dropped the utensils with a clatter and got up, taking her purse with her.

Julien followed after her, lamenting the fact they couldn’t enjoy their meal properly. He quickly waved over the waitress and asked her politely to pack it up for him, then he rushed after Tesla. She hadn’t gone far and the street was empty, a perfect opportunity to give the lady the answers she asked for.

“I’m a superhero,” he called out to her back. She stilled and he made his way over to her. “And I’m sure you know exactly which one I am.”

“Ferro,” she simply said.

“In the flesh,” he replied.

“I’m a villain.” Tesla said, quietly.

“I know.” The statement made Tesla turn around to face Julien. How long had he known?

“Why do you think I’ve been asking you out on dates?” Julien said, with his dazzling photo-ready smile. “Since we met, has there been a single one of your crusades on the city? Not at all.”

“So you were playing me,” Tesla hissed. She wasn’t sure why it hurt that she was deceived, she had been trying to deceive him this entire time, but it was different in her case. This was her life’s motive. Take the heroes down, not get taken down.

“I was trying to help you, Tesla.” Julien said, reaching for her. Tesla moved away. She could feel her emotions spiralling out of control. A cold sensation washed through her veins and her hands and face began to glow hot white. She needed to destroy something, anything, everything…

But a hand clamped down on her wrist and the feeling faded away, the glowing subsided and she was left glaring at Julien and his now glowing hand. The glow ran up his arm and exploded across his chest, blinding her.

When she could see again, she wasn’t sure what had happened. Even intentional actions to try and use her powers again weren’t working, not with Julien’s hold on her. “Let go.” she said, through gritted teeth.

“Why won’t you understand?” Julien asked, with a sigh. “Tesla, I’m your complete equal. Like you were made to destroy, I was meant to create. I was made to cancel you out. No matter what you do, no matter how much you try, you’re never going to do anything. Not with me here.”

Tesla managed to break free from his grip, resolving to prove him wrong. “First and last time I ever let you overpower me, Ferro. You will rue the day you ever thought to get in my way.”

[Hiya Debnath]

Dolores Umbridge was brought up in a quaint countryside as a witch. She was constantly told that she was destined for great things. Her mother was a Muggle, but her father was a wizard. Her wizard father himself suffered from a lot of insecurities owing to his low-level worker status in the Department of Magical Maintenance, and kept pushing his daughter to be better than himself.
"You are destined for greater things, my child. You will make your father proud." Orford Umbridge said. He kept trying to live his dreams in the wizarding world through her.
"But I love my cats and playing with the lovely pink Barbie dolls that my mother gifts me", six year old Dolores protested.
"No, my child, playing with dolls like Muggle children does not become of you. You are a witch destined for great things. Do not be stupid like your Muggle mother." Orford kept saying.
One day, Orford returned from work completely exhausted and feeling horrible after a day of rough words from the senior officials at the Ministry of Magic. He was internally fuming. As he entered the house, he saw little Dolores reading a picture book to her cat and a little doll dressed in pink clothes.
"Enough", her father screamed, "No more dolls, no more pink clothes and no more cats. Your Muggle mother is spoiling you and deterring you from being a witch. I do not know why I married that insensible woman. She has also birthed a squib without any magic, so, because of her I only have one child to rely on to fulfil my dreams."
Dolores began to cry.
That very day, a heated argument between Dolores's father and her Muggle mother ensued. Her father was not very fond of her squib brother and her Muggle mother and always kept blaming them for her failures. From Dolores, he only expected her to fulfil his unfinished dreams and make a big name in the wizarding world and make her father proud.
Dolores was not one to be a strong personality. After all, she never wanted to be a witch. She wanted to be a feminine, ordinary woman like her Muggle mother, and loved playing with cats and dolls. Her father kept depriving her of both.
Over the years, she learnt to internalize that she wouldn't be good enough if she wasn't a capable witch. She learnt to despise her Muggle mother and her squib brother and extended that hatred towards all Muggles, Muggle-borns and squibs. She learnt to accept the tyranny of her father in the household.
Soon, her father and she disowned her mother and brother.
Finally, her Hogwarts letter arrived. She struggled her best to be a capable witch to please her father and meet his high expectations, but failed. She was not good at this. She never got any positions (like Prefect), either. She did not have a good relationship with the Head of House, Horace Slughorn, either.
She kept disappointing her father who often turned raving mad and scolded her in rage. He kept pressurizing her to perform better. Dolores developed an inferiority complex and a dubious self-esteem as a result, and started trying to accomplish things in an underhand way. She was always sweet on the face in her later years, but kept accomplishing things with underhand tactics like a complex and manipulative evil character. When she started doing this, she started rising to power and soon she became a high-ranking official in the Ministry. Finally, she was someone important, not someone who was always rebuked by her father for playing with cats and dolls and for under-performing in school. She left her father to deal with his own inferiority complexes alone and even started hating him, because of his lowly status. That changed her fortune, indeed, and she became a high-ranking witch, and under the same motivations, she even lied that she was a pure-blood. Also, now that her father could no longer control her, she could finally play with her cats and dolls. She bought many cats and filled up everything from her teacups and kettles, to her cutlery and utensils, to her cushions, to portraits in her office with pictures of cats. She was too old to play with dolls, then, but she always dressed in pink just like her favorite Barbie doll in her childhood.
And that my friends is how Dolores Umbridge rose to position in the Ministry of Magic and became the evil witch we all know.

[Galena May]

I am all alone in an orphanage (or that's what they call this building full of cowards who will dominate you and deny your needs unless you dominate them and grab your own needs yourself) and there is absolutely no one who actually WANTS to fulfil my needs. It's a battle for survival. If there's one thing I have noticed, it is that if these humans can't overpower someone or something, they give in to the demand of that someone or something. It is a competition for superiority and power. Like when I hit that boy on his head and he yielded the toy because he couldn't bear the pain. You merely have to overpower them to get what you want. A few will resist, but once you prove that you are the more powerful one, they back off and you get what you want. They are all cowards. "Tom, don't you feel any remorse? Stephen is like your younger brother. Poor Stephen. You should love him instead of hitting him and stealing his things. Just like you, he has no parents. You two could find the love that you miss, in each other, you know" the matron repeated again this morning. What is this love, remorse? If these words meant anything, why don't I feel or get anything good of it? The matron kisses my hand and tells me that I am loved. Well, I could kiss my own hand several times. And what good do I get from it? Nothing. No toy. No food. No money. No feeling. They say I should feel it. I feel nothing but anger at the insignificant waste of time when she kisses my hand. What is the good that comes of this thing, they call love? Such nonsense that they brew up. An insignificant action called a "kiss" and they call it "love" and they use these make - believe terms to manipulate me into not fulfilling my needs. But they will know soon that I am not easy to fool with make - believe terms. Oh! There goes Harold with his new shiny teddy bear. They say he got it because he was a good child. They must all be plotting against me. It is I who has been the best child here, I am good at everything I do. Let me teach them their lesson and take what by right is mine. A burst of flame from nowhere appears and Harold's clothes catch on fire. Harold runs away screaming. That's it, now that's mine. What a proud collection. This teddy bear shall be added to my things now. If they come to take it, I will not let them, because they should know that I am the best and most powerful kid here. I will fix all of them into realizing that. By the way, this fire, I did not do it consciously, but it must have come from me, because I am the most powerful kid here. I have seen no one in this orphanage light fires without holding some weird object. This fire, it is very useful. I should find out how to control it and use it to my advantage.
If there's one thing I have been curious about, then that is where did I come from and why am I cooped up with cowards I don't even like? They say I came from my mother and father and my mother left me here and died. They say that if my mother was alive, she would fulfil my needs. Well, in that case, whatever it is that caused my mother to die and leave me here with unmet needs and a bunch of cowards, shall suffer my wrath. Let me hunt them down first.
Voices from the corridor. "It's that room over there. Tom Riddle lives there. It's an old man come to see you,Tom. He calls himself Albus Dumbledore."
And who might this Albus Dumbledore be? Not another trick to manipulate me into submission, eh? If this is another trick, I will show this old man who I am.
- Voldemort (then Tom Riddle Jr.) at the Muggle Wool's orphanage, London.