Hey guys. So, this is my first Skulduggery Pleasant Fanfic that I've posted or have had any thoughts of continuing. I'm totally okay with constructive criticism, so tell me whatever I'm doing wrong here.

This is Mevolent-verse Vile, sometime after Valkyrie and Skulduggery get the hell out of there in TDOTL.

o

This is more of a prologue than anything else. Sorry it's so short,but the next will be longer.

This is Mevolent's dimension. I repeat, this is the alternate dimension.

Most/all of the brackets are actually Vile's mind - voice (No, not Skulduggery. Yet. ) interrupting in the background.

Lord Vile. Villain deluxe, psychopathic personality.

But,he did have a personality. Just because he caused a hell lotta destruction, havoc, left a trail of dead bodies and ruined villages,it didn't mean he was a mindless machine.

...Well,he was sort of,but that wasn't the point. The point was,he was more alike to Skulduggery than either liked to admit or even acknowledged. So both shared a tendency towards the same reactions at being one-upped.

Anyone who knew Skulduggery knew that he got pissed off whenever somebody managed to beat him. So did Vile. And where had he been going with this? He was pretty sure that this line of thought had started somewhere at 'personality' and 'killing'.

Eh.

Besides, ever since that attempt at getting that damn gun had gone south,a voice at the back of his mind kept nagging at him to do something productive.

Which was slightly creepy,considering he'd started out as a voice at the back of Skulduggery's head himself. Yes,he was a him ,not an it. That's what he considered himself to be. Now that he wasn't as obsessed with revenge and really really angry,he used to briefly contemplated the mysteries of life before getting bored again.

He should do something, maybe... Oh! Yes,that would do.

He suddenly turned and walked back out of the random village Mevolent's men were messing shit up in. He refused to personally consider himself one of his. He was.. Freelance. Yes,that was it.

Lord Vile shadow-walked himself into a place a kilometre or so away from where he'd been and then did it again. He could do himself long distances, but appearing in front of some random people and watching their reactions was priceless. Some black humour did occasionally do a person-thing? some good. Also,he didn't tire out,which was a good thing.

Vile watched as a random snotty-looking sheriff shrieked and lept back,pissing his pants a bit.

Ha ha. Surprise,bitch.

He walked shorter distances,making more people react in a similar manner. Ah,he'd have some fun.

~~~A while later,in Lord Vile's private quarters.~~~

Lord Vile stared at his skeletal hand and concentrated. He focused his power imagined what he wanted to do and-

Nothing happened.

He growled in frustration. Maybe he couldn't do it. No, he was the most powerful necromancer there was. Most powerful sorceror, actually, since he was second to Mevolent.Or was, before that bitch Darquesse showed up. Bringing her identical copy with her.

Which brought him back to what he was trying to do. He knew he could do it, he'd been vaguely thinking about it for a few decades now. He just hadn't bothered to actually do anything about it. Too busy killing people. That was fun. He was powerful. Feared. When he stepped somewhere, people ran. He could do it. He knew that, he could Feel it.

He just didn't know how.

He stared at his hand again, willing flesh or even just skin - he wasn't picky right now- to grow. Or to just give an illusion of being there. It was, after all,his laziness on the matter that had told that Valkyrie chick who he was. Stealing someone's face kinda gave away the fact that you were a skeleton.

Ah, yes. That. Skulduggery. Not Vile. (Although he had a feeling that Vile was around him, somehow.) was quite curious. Skulduggery had somehow won other fight in this other dimension.

Whatever. He wasn't going to dwell on anything, (I'm a better man) he'd never see them again. Hopefully. The little shits had (indirectly or not) almost hurt/beaten him.

Anger.

Good, that was good. He focused his anger into his left arm. After a few minutes (of intense staring) he felt something. A flicker of magic, in his left hand (-arm, actually) wait, he was using his right hand. (Amazing deduction) That meant something was going to happening. He focused, drawing magic in,

And

Stared

-just stared-

The next chapter will be longer. Thanks for reading,please review.

Love,

-LionsandTrolls,