Bob Villain
Over a thousand years ago in
Born to a poor family, Bob became the head of the Villains. He provided the family’s necessary income. You may imagine Bob picking up leftovers dumped in the trash or begging someone for a morsel of viand to bring home to his family. Oh no! Bob was too fast for this. Instead, he brought to his folks mountains of victuals and gleaming mounds of gold. In fact, he brought home so much food that it could easily fill up a valley. This is how Bob worked it out.
It was a beautiful Sunday morning in the forest, where Bob staked out. He knew that the town’s supplies were being carried via this route through the forest. Now, before you call this operation a raid, read on. A ‘raid’ is defined as ‘chaos’ and ‘turmoil’. Bob Villain runs this whole operation as smooth as ice. He silently waited behind the protection of a large bush; so silently that you could hear a pin drop a mile away. Then, from behind that shrub, Bob heard the footsteps of several men, getting louder and louder. He froze, dead still, so that he could see them before they saw him. Cautiously, Bob untied his leather pouch attached to his waist, and grabbed five steel balls from within. These balls were hollow and about three quarter inches in diameter. The hollow ball was filled with gas, dangerously compressed at 500 psi (pounds per square inch). The surface of the ball was corrugated with lines with a pattern similar to that of the imaginary latitude and longitude lines on a globe. When this steel ball was thrown at the ground, it shatters due to the compressed air and sends the steel shrapnel, created from the grooves on the surface, everywhere at high velocity, enough to kill anybody with a ten-foot radius.
As the men
approached, carrying loads of goods, Bob took careful aim at their feet, and
sent the steel balls flying. The men were too surprised to do anything. On
impact, the balls burst loudly, possibly alerting every man in
“Next stop, king’s stronghold.” Bob told his wife.
“Bob, you really don’t need to do this anymore. Just look, we’ve got a lifetime supply of gold and food in the cellar. We’ve outdone ourselves.”
“Well, hijacking merchants is my hobby. I don’t care about your womanly remarks.” Bob said hotly.
“But…”
“Now, Now. A little herbal medicine should set you thinking properly, sweetheart. I’ll go fetch some.” Bob coaxed her gently. Bob Villain went behind his thirteen and a half story home and took out one of those deadly steel balls, which he used to kill the previous men. He carefully painted the ball brown to make it look like a medicinal herb. “Some herb this is.” He laughed to himself. Moments later, Bob reappeared. “Here you are my darling.” Bob handed her her death mate.
“Strange. I’ve never seen this herb before.” His wife commented.
“Exotic.” Bob replied curtly, “Take it in your bedroom and chew it well.” He added.
“As you say.” His wife said.
Bob fled out of the house, anxiously waiting for his wife to blow up. As soon as he took his first step out the door, Bob Villain heard and felt a ground-shaking explosion, along with the sound of a fluid “splatting” on the wall. Bob rushed in to see a creative artwork of blood, bones, and fragments of human tissue, shot in every possible corner. It seemed as though someone hastily sprayed the small room with blood, seasoned it with bones and flesh, and topped it all off with a headless corpse in the middle of the room.
“Oh, my poor darling.” Bob moaned as the coroner carried the headless corpse away. “Next stop: king’s stronghold.” Bob used the same route in which he killed the merchants to go to the king’s storeroom. It was getting dark, so Bob took supersonic strides (20,000 two-foot strides per second) to cut through the forest. Then out of nowhere, a little boy appeared. He was short, had brown hair, and looked no older than nine.
“Hey, you blew up your wife on purpose, and I know it.”
“So what are you gonna do about it midget?”
“It you don’t give me 50 pounds right now, I’m going to tell the police.”
Immediately, Bob was aware of the high risk that he was going to the dungeon. So, that pimp has been spying on me the whole time, Bob thought angrily. Well, I’ll make sure I’m the last person he’ll talk to, ever. The kid noted the evil grin on Bob’s face and the livid scar on his left cheek. He began to tremble. “You’re shaking, and I can see that.” Bob said, almost threateningly.
“Its… Its just the cold air.”
“Yeah right. You’re scarred. But this is only the beginning. Ha! Ha! Ha!” Bob laughed maliciously. Bob Villain raised his arm, and from his gnarled fingertips came a spellbinding purple smoke. Then suddenly, from behind him, a thousand steel bladed cleavers materialized out of thin air and pointed its sharp tip towards the little boy, who immediately covered his face with his pudgy hands. He was, by now, frozen and pale with fright. With a single wave of his arms, the thousand cleavers charged forward all by itself, right into the motionless kid. The first cleaver buried itself into the boy’s chest. Immediately a second and third one followed, all plunging into the helpless creature. An unimaginable quantity of blood gushed out of his back. By that time, the carcass crumpled to the ground, and you would never recognize a boy, or even a human being; just a towering heap of bloodstained cleavers “Well, that’s that.”
Bob’s remaining leg of the journey went uninterrupted. He approached the stronghold, quiet as a mouse. The house was not only heavily guarded, but also underground. “No time for bloodshed now.” He said under his breath. It was difficult enough to take down the guards without waking up the town. Bob quickly created two giant, psychic hands that mimicked his own through telekinetic link. Quickly, but cautiously, Bob Villain enclosed a single guard with the psychic hand and gave it a quick squeeze. He felt the bones crushing and his organs oozing out of his chest (the psychic hands also link the touch sensors), like a squashed bug. He wiped the remains on the ground. Bob repeated this several times, thinking what the ground would look like in the morning. Probably a blob of red smear here and there, but enough to make them vomit. Unfortunately, Bob didn’t crush the last standing guard’s body fast enough. He let out a loud holler before meeting his own fate. This was easily enough to signal the Royal Guard from the adjacent building. Bob retreated as he pulled out his 5,000 round automatic crossbow. He kneeled down and aligned the arrow at a Royal Guard. Then he pulled the trigger, which he only meant for a single shot. However, adrenaline rushed into him, and he held the trigger for a good five seconds, releasing no less than a storm off 200 razor tipped arrows. The guard’s chest was stuffed with arrows, 199 more than he had wished for. Bob continued to hold the trigger and swept left and right. After unleashing all 5000 arrows and wiping out all the guards, Bob coolly threw the crossbow to one side and kicked the storehouse door open.
It was
completely dark around him. However, he could make out a steep, narrow
staircase winding down into the abyss. He walked down slowly, quietly, and
cautiously. Bob had come this far, and now was not the time to get hit by a
surprise arrow in the dark. The wooden steps creaked beneath his feet. He
wondered if it would give way. However, he managed to get himself all the way
to the bottom. Bob found himself in a small room. There was a single lighted
oil candle fixed to the wall. Bob pulled it off. Ahead of him was a wooden
door, securely bolted to the wall. Again, he raised his arms, and murmured
something to himself. The door suddenly ripped off its hinges and flew all the
way to back off the pitch-dark room. It smacked onto the wall and echoed back,
which ricochet on the walls. Now Bob knew two things. First, from the long
descent of the stairs, he knew he was deep underground. Second, from the long
echo inside the room that he was about to enter, he knew that the size of the
room must be enormous. He also noted that that floor beneath him was tiled in
hard clay. Bob also saw that several tiles, particularly the ones in the
middle, had some strange inscription on it. It looked much like Egyptian
hieroglyphics. “Oh come on Bob, we’re in
Bob Villain entered the doorway that led to the large room. Although the illumination in there was poor, one sweep of his oil torch showed him exactly what he had found: gold bars. Millions and millions of gold bars, all stacked neatly up to your head throughout the vast room. The room was organized so that you could walk from aisle to aisle, where on either side of you are towered with gleaming gold bars. Bob grabbed a gold bar and sunk his teeth deep into it. “Pure, genuine gold.” Bob Villain said, almost kneeling down and worshipping the precious metal. He noted that each aisle of gold was formed by sixteen units, each unit consisting of 2,048 gold bars, sitting on a wooden movable platform. The sixteen units were aligned to form an aisle. There were five hundred twelve aisles in the room. Bob did some quick mental math in his head. “Ah,” Bob nearly collapsed at the number, “16,777,216 gold bars.” He knew that there was no way that he could carry out all the gold, not even one unit without being noticed. However, before he could think of a way to move all the gold, he heard the thump of footsteps. Many footsteps. “Royal Guards!” he muttered to himself.
“Find him!” commanded a powerful voice, which rang through the room. Bob quickly used his psychic powers to create two scythes, which dropped out of thin air from above him. Then he hid behind an aisle and waited. As the footsteps grew louder, Bob Villain drew his scythes and poised it parallel to the ground at neck level. He wound up his body fully. As soon as the guard came up, Bob unwound himself full force with the dangerous scythes speeding towards the man’s neck. He hadn’t a word to say. His head alone rolled back to the rest of the troops, leaving a trail of blood behind. A younger member fainted from the horror. Bob then decided to get brave. He jumped on top of the aisle of gold and started running towards the soldiers. Although they had plenty of time to react, it was no match for Bob Villain. He charged toward them and took quick, but deadly jabs at the men. One by one, they dropped. After about two second all but one were slaughtered with the scythe.
“Please, don’t kill me! This wasn’t my idea. Spare my life and I do anything you wish.” The young boy cried. Bob noted that he was only fifteen, probably drafted into the army. He looked pretty much innocent.
“If I let you go, will you promise not to tell anyone about this?” Bob said seriously.
“Not a word, sir.” The young boy replied anxiously.
“Can you swear it?”
“I swear it.” The boy said solemnly as he raised his scrawny right hand.
Bob sighed.
“No. I can’t have this. Freeing you will put me at great risk. Besides, what do you know about keeping an oath? I bet that for a poor boy like you, you would spill it all out if someone had paid you three and a half pounds!”
“I swear I won’t tell anyone!” The boy moaned desperately.
“Hmph. Get real.” A quick snap of Bob’s left wrist sent the scythe straight for the kid’s neck. He beheaded the kid before he even flinched.
Bob realized that he had to quickly escape with the gold before more guards came or before daylight. He couldn’t afford for the whole town to watch him roll away 2,048 gold bars. Bob placed his two hands against the movable platform of one unit and started pushing it out the room. In his haste, he crushed the corpses of the dead infantrymen as he steamrolled over them and headed for the door. Next, he guided the oversized unit through the doorway and into the small room with the tiled floor. Once there, he stopped to rest. Then he felt a slight rumble. He looked beneath him as he realized that he was standing on a square tile with the inscription that he had seen earlier. The floor beneath him shook again, but this time, harder. Once he knew what had happened, it was too late. To late…
The tile
beneath him collapsed at the weight of the gold unit. “It was a trick!” He
yelled, “A treacherous trick!” He fell into the abyss, along with 2,048 gold
bars to bury him when he landed. Some believed that the
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