"Good night, you scumbags and degenerates!"
Way into the night, there was a lot of commotion coming from a three-story building covered with dazzling lights, with a sign that read "Gomorrah". In front of the building was a swarm of paparazzi taking pictures of people walking down a red carpet. These people wore devious expressions that blended well with their outlandishly sinister outfits. Together, they created a night parade of daemons. The paparazzi talked to these people with great excitement as they all competed to get the best angle for their pictures and best quotes for the blogs and magazines. A true red-carpet event.
"I hope you bastards had a horrible day before you arrived."
Inside the building, there was an auditorium with a banner that read "The 5th Annual Villain Awards". On stage was a man dressed in a black tailcoat suit and wearing a plague doctor's mask. He clapped his hands to make sure all eyes were on him.
"Welcome to this year's Villain Awards!"
The crowd clapped as the man made a dramatic bow.
"While I would love to make some witty remarks and tell some jokes, I honestly hate all of you here, and I hope you all get caught on your way back."
Laughs came from the crowd despite the man's harsh words.
"Anyway, let's get this thing started before two archenemies realise they're sitting too close and start fighting."
The man pulled a gun from underneath his coat.
"Of course, that won't happen here. After all, we're not animals. No offence, Orthus."
"None taken."
A man with two dog heads replied with a laugh.
"Good."
The Host flicked his wrist and the gun disappeared.
"Alright, let's get this shit started!"
Cheers rang in the auditorium as the award show began. As the night continued, several awards were given out and sinister-looking people came to the stage to collect them, while being showered in boos and jeers.
"Yeah, yeah. Fuck you too."
One of the winners stuck his middle fingers up as he faced the crowd. This was very common throughout the night. Some people even had to casually dodge things being thrown at them. Once the 12th award was given, the Host returned to the stage. He casually shot someone who threw a shoe at him.
"Settle down, fuckers. It's almost time for the afterparty. We can kill each other there."
He put away the gun and the next award category was shown on the monitor. It was the award for Maniac of the Year. A deadly silence came over the auditorium. No one dared to even breathe too loudly.
"Alright, let's see the nominees."
Only the Host was able to speak freely as the monitor showed several names.
"Hmm.....Screw this."
The Host took out an envelope.
"We know the winner already, so let's just get this over with."
He opened the envelope and took out the paper inside.
"This man needs no introduction."
People rose from their seats one by one, all with nervous expressions and stiff movements. Heartbeats started to race, and cold sweat ran down a hundred backs. Tension rose as a stifling silence covered the room. All eyes were directed at the stage, as no one dared to look away. The Host was the only one who acted casually.
"Please welcome to the stage your Maniac of the Year...."
He gestured to his side and a bolt of lightning struck the stage. The auditorium lit up as a thunderclap assaulted everyone's ears.
"The bringer of destruction and mayhem! The man who is above all laws! One of the Three Calamities!"
The Host's voice drowned out the thunder, and a silhouette appeared in the smoke covering the stage. A figure of a man slowly emerged as the smoke faded. The Host pointed at this man with overwhelming excitement.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! The Mad Shaman, Sinvula!"
Cheers rained down on the stage as those in the audience clapped so hard their hands screamed out in pain. Long-fuzzy black hair rubbed against the stage floor as the man, Sinvula, did a gentleman's bow. When he lifted his head, a sinister smile was painted across his face, which was partially covered by his bangs.
"?!"
This smile sent shivers down everyone's spines. Dressed in a red blazer with a black undershirt and jeans, this man who dressed the least impressively out of everyone else, had commanded absolute attention on him. His caramel skin had a radiant glow as he made his way to the mic.
"Thank you, thank you."
He lifted his hand and the applause vanished as if it had never happened.
"First, I would like to thank the academy for inviting me and giving me this award. Second, when are you guys going to listen to my advice about changing this show's name? The Annual Villain Awards sounds too basic for guys like us."
Sinvula turned to the host.
"You guys should call it the Villys. You gotta admit that sounds better."
"If you have any complaints, please refer to the Villain Committee."
The Host answered with a smirk. Sinvula sighed.
"You guys have the worst naming sense. Well, whatever. I got my award and there are a lot of scumbags here who deserve to be put under the prison."
A devilish smirk appeared on his face.
"You guys know what that means, right?"
Hearts started racing and involuntary gulps were made as Sinvula lifted his hand in the air.
"It's time to party!"
"Ohhhh!"
Cheers ran through the auditorium. Around 20 minutes later, the villains moved from the auditorium on the ground floor and went to the third floor, where there was a massive nightclub. Loud music blasted through the room as people drank, danced, and picked fights with each other. In the centre of the club was a massive stage where the DJ was playing music while men and women danced around it. Sinvula grabbed the mic and stepped on top of one of the giant speakers.
"Hello, motherfuckers! Are you having fun?!"
"Ohhh!"
"Good, good! That's how it should be! Being the bad guy is fun as hell, isn't it?!"
He caught two bottles of beer and chugged them at the same time.
"Woooo!"
He threw the bottles behind him without care.
"Alright, all drinks on me!"
Cheers rained down on him as he spread his arms.
"Hahaha! Enjoy it, you bastards! After all, some of you will probably be killed by your competitor on your way home or captured by a Hero!"
A cocky smirk crawled onto his face.
"I can't relate though!"
He burst out laughing as people partied the night away.
Around 5 hours later—
"Blegh!"
Sinvula was outside the building throwing up in a trash can.
"There, there."
The Host was beside him, rubbing his back. Sinvula lifted his head and looked back at the Host with a glare.
"Stop trying to baby me, you—Blegh!"
He was forced to spit out something different from words into the trash can.
"Ugh! Why does humanity continue to drink when it always ends up like this?"
He slouched on the wall next to him with anguish staining his face.
"Humanity has nothing to do with your lack of discipline. Don't drag the rest of us into this."
"Water, I need water!"
"This man forgot he controls all the elements of nature."
"Ah, you're right."
Sinvula lifted his hand over his head.
"I'll just flood the city."
The Host slapped his hand back down.
"Not when the car I'm still paying for is close by."
He lifted Sinvula on his feet and dusted him off.
"Just when everybody was glad that you were in a good mood, you're already thinking of causing destruction at the slightest inconvenience. You need help, man."
"What did you think the Mad in Mad Shaman meant—Mhm?!"
Sinvula covered his mouth to prevent himself from throwing up.
"One of the Three Calamities, who are said to be able to destroy nations at will, defeated by a few beers. The Heroes need to reevaluate their career choices for being unable to take you down."
"Like you're one to talk....Oh, shit. Did I accidentally cause an earthquake again? Why is the world shaking?"
"I know why the world is shaking!"
A new voice entered their ears. The two turned their heads and saw a figure at the entrance of the alley. It was someone dressed in a hoodie and jeans and was wearing a wrestling mask for some reason. This person pointed at themself with their thumb.
"The world is trembling in excitement because, Sinvula, today is the day I beat your ass!"
Their voice echoed through the alley as they stood proud.
"......."
"......."
'....Blegh!"
Sinvula threw up in a trashcan and broke the silence.
"I can't tell if I threw up because of the liquor or because of what he said."
He straightened and wiped his mouth. He looked at the Host.
"A friend of yours?"
"Nah, he was lying in wait this whole time. I was wondering what was taking him so long to come out, but it looks like he was thinking of something witty to say before making an entrance. It honestly wasn't that bad. I'll give it a 7/10."
"I'll give it a 3 and that's being generous."
Sinvula gave the strange guy a displeased look.
"I take it you're some rookie Hero who's trying to make a name for himself?"
"That's right, Evildoer! I'm here to take you down!"
".....My guy, why are you talking like that?"
"Huh? Don't all heroes talk like this?"
The newcomer seemed confused.
"This is the first time I've heard someone use Evildoer in a sentence in real life."
The Host mumbled.
"Ugh...I'm too drunk for this shit."
Sinvula lifted a finger in front of him. Wind gathered around his fingertip and condensed into a ball. He flicked his finger and a deafening noise reverberated as the trash cans and dumpsters were flung into the air. The ball of wind cleared out the alley and hit the newcomer with a boom. Sinvula sighed as dust clouds covered the area. He turned his back and started to walk away.
"I'm going home. I have work in the morning."
"Stop right there, Villain!"
He stopped and turned his head with a puzzled look. The newcomer was standing in the same spot unharmed.
"It was small, but that ball had enough force to send cars flying."
He turned around to face the newcomer again.
"Did I mess up with the aim or input because I'm drunk?"
He stretched his palm out. Winds gathered to form a ball, causing garbage to float in the air. He threw the ball, and storm-like winds blew through the alley. The ball hit the newcomer like a thunderclap and shook the area.
"There, even if my aim was bad that should—"
The newcomer walked out of the dust clouds with tattered clothes but no damage to his body.
"What?!"
Sinvula's eyes peeled open.
"Oh, does he have a defence-type ability?"
The Host, on the other hand, was unbothered.
"Tsk. Since that's how you want to be."
Sinvula lifted his hand overhead. Powerful gusts of wind swirled around him, slowly lifting him off the ground.
"I'll just blow everything a—ugh?!"
He covered his mouth again with his eyes spinning in his head.
"Looks like levitating off the ground is making him want to throw up even more."
The Host glanced at Sinvula before turning his head towards the newcomer.
"If this rookie is smart..."
A boom resounded in the alley. The newcomer blasted off the ground and popped up in front of Sinvula. He clenched his fist and thrust it towards his chest.
"Re-Impact!"
A thunderous noise rang out as the air dispersed around Sinvula. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as his consciousness faded away.
"Ohhhh!"
The newcomer roared as he poured every ounce of his strength into his fist. In the face of this strength, Sinvula's body was blasted outside of the alley and sent flying through the air until he disappeared into the night.
"Wow~."
The Host started applauding the newcomer as he fell to his knees.
"D-Do you want some too?"
The newcomer looked up at the host while breathing heavily.
"Nah, I'm good. However, I'm curious."
The Host stooped down to the Newcomer's level.
"What's your name, Kid?"
He didn't know if it was because he was exhausted, but the Newcomer's body wouldn't move while in front of the Host. He was defenceless, yet he felt no danger. So he opened his mouth and spoke.
"Impactor, my name is Impactor."
"I see."
The Host placed his hand on Impactor's shoulder.
"Welcome to the world of Heroes and Villains, Impactor."
"...Thanks, I guess."
The Host nodded and stood up.
"By the way, why did you scream Re-Impact when you punched Sinvula?"
"It's my special attack. Doesn't everybody scream out the name of their special attacks when they use it?"
The Host stared at him for a while before letting out a low chuckle.
"Sinvula is going to be so pissed when he finds out what kind of guy he lost to."