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Submitted by madssukalikar


Tornado was the villain of the story. Ruthless, cruel, and oh so very powerful. I knew all of that. And perhaps that’s exactly why I fell in love with him.

But it wasn’t just the power that exuded him when he was in control, making men much older than him tremble. Or the sneer that curled upon his lip just so, as an image of dissidence and command. Or even the way he walked, stride full of confidence and knowledge of his own regency.

No, it was the voice, soft and seductive, as he whispered in my ear his grand plans of owning the world. His touch—painful yet precious. His smile—bereft of the sneer—that few others had witnessed.

That is what I remember. The blood, gore, and violence I choose to forget.

Still, at the end of the day, Tornado was the villain. And despite all machinations and impenetrable schemes, the “heroes” were always wont to win.

So, minions were killed. Battles were raged. Cities were blown apart. Loved ones were dangled above shark pits. Evil laughs were laughed. And then the hero made his final desperate move that ended it all.

Tornado was defeated. Sidekicks were saved. Girls were got. The end.

And yet there was still me. Sitting in darkness, doubting there would ever be light again.

The silken cloth of Tornado’s cape made rough by grime was stuck to his wounds. He lay in my arms, still as a moulded statue. Stately in silence. Powerful in death. He had never looked more handsome.

Perhaps the evil lair was still burning around us. Perhaps the world was going to hell. Perhaps I held him in a solitary landscape on the hill we had once sworn to live on when we were old and frail. I didn’t care anymore.The wind began to blow, snatching his long hair in its embrace, giving it the false beauty of life.

His lips were red from the blood, and puckered as if to sneer, or maybe to kiss. So I lowered myself to taste him one last time. Kissing him, I felt the body losing its warmth. I don’t remember the last time he was warm. And yet he was once. Warm. And alive. And mine.

That is what I remember. The rest I choose to forget.

photo credit: Thomas Hawk via photopin cc

About Charles Yallowitz

Charles E. Yallowitz was born, raised, and educated in New York. Then he spent a few years in Florida, realized his fear of alligators, and moved back to the Empire State. When he isn't working hard on his epic fantasy stories, Charles can be found cooking or going on whatever adventure his son has planned for the day. 'Legends of Windemere' is his first series, but it certainly won't be his last.

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