He was young.
Of beings with no end, there was also no point marking a beginning within any linear concept of time. But there he was, young, and in his youth, was voracious and exuberant. He had not ruled and so was not tempered by the weight of ruling. He exalted himself in his own mind, and had not grown weary of broken bodies kneeling through domination. Instead, he desired things and if the older ones had bothered, they may have called him naive. But they were asleep.
He was awake.
He was awake and yearning. He was nameless, formless, and with all things that lacked the proper boundaries, he wanted to consume. He represented the perfect form of the Divine Sins, all circling in harmony around a giant maw. He wanted to escape this dusty forever twilight and touch things.
It was easy enough to leave the chamber. The only reason why the others didn't leave is because they were asleep. Once awakened, they would leave this realm for the mortal realm and follow the nature of their being.
He did not want that.
He wanted to savor the mortal realm, which meant that he had to make a few concessions.
He took a form, which made him mortal. Granted, it would be nearly impossible to slay him, but he knew it could be done. Regardless, he took a form that would not break minds. He was vain enough to copy a stylish human, but prideful enough to maintain his inkpot skin and carnivore teeth.
He was unsettling.
He gave himself a name and claimed a hill. He built his house, and it was like something from a cartoon. That too was unsettling, to see such a thing ripped away from its common medium and forced into mortal reality.
Reality meant nothing to him and he found himself curling into the corners on the ceiling when he was restless. It meant nothing to him as he watched how things followed a certain pattern in the city around him. Things that went up, came down. Things that were bad, were removed by things that were good. Things in the darkness disappeared in the light.
He was bored.
He had no interest in destruction. He was, in his youth, more prone to mischief. What would happen if things tossed in the air didn't land? If shadows lingered? If the bad things fought their removal?
He needed minions.
Like their God, he collected one male, and one female. The male was timid, fearful, and wore a bag on his head. He had known of human idioms, and found it humorous to see one literally displayed.
The female, was loud. There were things missing inside of her and he enjoyed the cracks and hollows left behind. For a time. Soon, it began to grate, but she was his. He had claimed them.
Then came the experiments, the mishaps, the chaos, and the bear.
He settled.
But he still felt desire. It eluded him, as it was nameless, formless. And, as it is with things that lack boundaries, it consumed him.
"Doctor." Black Hat strode into the room and it darkened as he did. The man in the white coat jumped, cringed, and turned slowly.
"Yes? Sir?" Doctor Flug stammered, slowly twisting the papers in his hands. Black Hat eyed him, then moved away to toy with a beaker on the counter.
"Before you came to me you were, mistreated." Black Hat focused on the word, rolling the beaker with one long finger.
Flug did not respond.
"Do you think I am weak for preying on old wounds?" Black Hat asked. He could hear the doctor's very human heart hammering in the frail body. Housed under ribs that were no more stalwart than a twig under his hands, Black Hat was often amused by mortal anatomy,
"Weak sir?" Flug repeated. Black Hat stilled the beaker and faced the doctor.
"Threats are empty when there's no hint of follow through. Yet my threats stand on the follow through of others. Does it make me weak, as I have never hurt you?" He laid his hand down on the counter and slowly tapped his fingers, one by one. He could see the faint outline of Flug's eyes behind the darkened goggles, and they flicked down to the fingers. They had altered, becoming black knives protruding from a hand.
Tap-tap-tap-tap
Flug shuddered so deeply that his shoulders curled inward. Black Hat smiled.
"Do you know why I won't hurt you Flug?" He asked as he still tapped the counter. Flug shook his head. "Because I like seeing you tremble." He took his bladed hand and brought it up, watching Flug's eyes follow. He slowly moved to the doctor's face, lightly caressing the blades over his cheek. Black Hat grinned and as Flug whimpered, he laughed. His hand returned to its default human form, and he playfully slapped Flug's cheek.
"Get back to work." Black Hat said and turned sharply to leave.
"Yes sir." Came the breathy reply.
The empty maw ran teeth along his insides.
Black Hat knew of the slumbering others the same way he knew himself, by existence. He found that he could hardly call such apathetic creatures evil, though the legends surrounding them made them sound like evil incarnate. He had come to learn that evil was more accurately defined as things that upset the stability of a society and usually involved people dying. Dying was unique among the humans; one was not allowed to kill another but neither was anyone allowed to kill themselves. They threw their lives at the feet of indifferent time and Black Hat was disgusted. A murder made a more poignant end to a person's life and was more notable than dying in their sleep at a decrepit age.
It seemed wasteful to him.
What angered him then, were those who tried to resist attempts at dislodging the status quo. Those who benefitted from the limited lives of the humans around them, which seemed like an unfair trade. They stood and openly professed that how things were was the Right Way, yet they lived outside of that way.
Instead of being directly involved, Black Hat preferred to toss in variables. Sometimes that meant lending out Demencia. Sometimes that meant selling gadgets and weaponry that no mortal could create.
There were benefits to living with a creature that existed outside of the physical realm, bound by physics and earthly chemicals. There were times that it proved too much for the poor doctor's mind, and so there were failures. But those failures allowed Black Hat to savor something more personal, more intimate, and he didn't particularly mind them.
As long as his mad scientist was happy, he was happy.
And he could be happy. He found that the idea of a morally mandated rule of who gets to be happy to infuriate him as well. He was evil and could be happy. He certainly knew he could experience pleasure. These weren't things only allowed to people existing within the fence of society.
Just as cruelty wasn't limited to those outside of it.
Dr. Flug didn't wear the bag to hide his identity. His previous employers knew his name, saw the same advertisements that showed his well-known lanky form. And neither was it to hide any disfigurement.
Their abuse would always be well hidden.
Black Hat wasn't particularly interested in human psychology, but he did not like what Flug represented. The idea that cruelty could only belong to those who were evil and if the majority called a person good, then they wouldn't believe any accusation of habits belonging to the outsiders.
Their heroes could never be evil. Obviously, with where Flug ended up, he had done something to deserve it. It wasn't abuse, it was justice.
On and on and on.
If Black Hat thought the apathetic couldn't be evil, and believed himself to be evil, then he knew he was invested enough in this realm. He didn't feel remorse or sorrow or guilt, but he still wished he had noticed the depth of Flug's terror when he yelled and threatened. In the beginning, to Black Hat, it was just hilarious to see a human quake in terror.
The humor was lost when he realized the terror wasn't his own doing but rooted in the past actions of others. And by the ones he so greatly despised.
He had expected Flug to notice that no real injury was forthcoming at his threats - though he surely threw the man around - and that the doctor would build up some kind of tolerance to it. So when he didn't, Black Hat pried.
He restrained himself, though there were times when he grabbed the doctor's arm and the human's breathing changed. It was a change that made him hungry.
Now he was planning. How to seek revenge on the ones who broke his doctor. And how to make sure his doctor only trembled for him.
"FLUG!" Black Hat bellowed and he heard, with no small amount of glee, as glass shattered from the lab.
"Yes sir?" The bag and goggles peered around the doorframe. Black tentacles curled around a body and lifted it up. Flug stepped fully out into the hallway and wiped his gloved hands on his coat.
"Do you know this one?" Black Hat questioned. The tentacles were more tapped into his subconsciousness and therefore seemed to move of their own accord. Now, they twisted over the thick body of the man. Eyes and slavering mouths opened and shut at various points on the limbs, and the green liquid they all produced started to scorch whatever it touched.
Flug kept his eyes on the figure being held aloft.
"That's Sting Shadow. He's not in the League." Flug replied. From this distance, and with the ever present creeping darkness, Black Hat could not see behind the goggles.
"But do you know this one?" He insisted. Flug shook his head. Black Hat scoffed in irritation and had to restrain his tentacles from popping the body they held.
"The villain with the cowboy theme said this one recognized your work. He showed up a few minutes ago." Black Hat said.
"The Cowboy." Flug corrected and Black Hat stared at him blandly. Flug coughed into his fist and Black Hat let out an exaggerated sigh.
"This would be a lot easier if you would just give me names." Black Hat seethed and tossed the body of Sting Shadow behind him. The robots would collect it and deposit it outside of the premises. If he was still alive, then he could simply walk away after he woke up.
"That, it isn't anything you need to worry about Boss." Flug said softly. Black Hat clipped through time and space, suddenly appearing in front of Flug. The doctor yelped and jumped back, but Black Hat caught him by his shirt and lifted him up.
"You don't get to tell me what to spend my time on little doctor." He stated and Flug nodded. "I can feel your nightmares, did you know that? I would like them to stop." Flug hung his head.
"I'm sorry sir." The doctor said, still so softly. Black Hat sneered. He called his tentacles out and they ensnared the doctor just as they did the hero a moment before. But they entwined him gently and the doctor gasped.
One small tendril rolled over Flug's shoulder and crawled up his neck, sneaking under the bag. It moved up his cheek and around the back of his head.
The human's breathing changed again.
"Are you enjoying this Flug?" Black Hat asked idly. Through his flesh, Black Hat could feel Flug's fear. It was sharp and biting. Black Hat smiled.
"Do I not horrify you Flug?" He asked and tightened his grip just slightly.
"Sir…" Flug's breathing hitched. "I… no. You don't."
The maw inside of Black Hat had a name, it had a form, but now it became focused on consuming just one thing. One tentacle wrapped its way up Flug's right leg. He pulled the doctor's body to his own and immediately placed his mouth on Flug's neck. The doctor gasped again as Black Hat gently pushed his teeth against the straining flesh.
The resistance was more satisfying than the thought of actually breaking the human's body. The skin held, his muscles flexed against constriction, and his breathing was rapid as Black Hat moved a tentacle from behind Flug's head to down around his throat.
Just as that tentacle began to slowly tighten, Black Hat lifted his face up.
"Give me a name Flug." He whispered. His limbs tightened around the doctor's body. "Submit."
"Please. Sir I, I can't." Flug said. A rush of anger and Black Hat clenched. Flug choked and his gloved hands slipped against the rubbery flesh of the tentacle at his throat. Black Hat relaxed and Flug took in a gulping breath.
"You will not submit to me Flug?" Flug sputtered and didn't say anything. Black Hat released the man, and he fell to the floor in a heap. "How disappointing."
"Sir, I'm yours but-" Flug started but stopped short as Black Hat hissed, cracking his jaw lower and pulling his lips back. Rows of too many teeth, all pointed, gleamed against the darkness of his mouth. Black Hat composed himself, recalling the the tentacles into the depths of his long coat, and adjusted his tie.
"You're not mine if you bear the mark of others so prominently." He looked down at Flug. "If you see Demencia, send her to me."
With that, Black Hat stepped around Flug and walked to the staircase. He heard Flug pick himself up and make his way back into the lab. The maw gnawed at him and Black Hat's lip curled up in a sneer.
He had made his mad scientist unhappy.
By the time Demencia burst into his office, Black Hat had done his preliminary research. He clicked off his computer and turned his chair as Demencia clambered onto his desk. She reclined leisurely and leered at him.
Her desire was too straightforward to be interesting.
"You wanted me?" She asked and Black Hat sat back in his chair and laced his fingers together behind his head.
"Some members of the League of Superpowered Citizens have harmed Dr. Flug." Black Hat said and Demencia sniffed. Her eyes narrowed though she maintained a languor in her body.
"Would you like me to go visit them?" Demencia inquired. Black Hat laid his head on the back of the chair, feeling the muscles in his arms stretch. It would take him ages to get used to a mortal body.
"I don't know who they are." He rolled his head sideways to look at her. "And you are far too inept at successfully utilizing torture to find that information out for me." Demencia sat up, nodding.
"That is true. It is so much fun to just rip them apart." She said. Black Hat turned back to look up at the ceiling.
"I want you to go find me someone who can, assist me." He said.
"Sure thing Boss." Demencia hopped off the desk and started for the door.
"One more thing Demencia." Black Hat sat up and swiveled toward his computer. "I want you to find out as much as possible about the club Velvet Box." Demencia threw a sloppy salute and marched out of the office, slamming the door behind her.
Black Hat eyed an intercom at the edge of his desk. It ran directly to the lab. With a sigh, Black Hat pushed himself away from his desk and walked to the door.
He would have to wait for the time being.