Lamentations of a Dark Heart

My name is Marduke Mandragore.

Yes, I am the son of THOSE Mandragores.

My father is Barnabas Mandragore, a man who, despite having no powers other than his genius intellect, is known and feared as a super villain.

My mother is Lucretia Mandragore; some believe her to be the most powerful sorceress in the world. Like my father, she is classed as a villain for her past deeds.

I am their firstborn son.

I was expected to be a villain when I grew up as well.

But now the time for me to actually become one has arrived.

I'm not sure if I want to be one anymore.

My father gave me my powers through his knowledge of genetic manipulation and mutation, and did the same with my brother Balthazar and my sister Victoria. My youngest brother Loki has no powers yet, and may not receive any, as he seems to have inherited our father's intellect and rather warped curiosity.

But you do not want to hear about my family.

You want to know about me.

You want to know why I feel the way I do.

I'm not sure that even I know myself.

Things used to be so clear until a short time ago. Before SHE came into my life.

Layla.

How could I ever know that someone like her even existed outside the dark world I was born into?

I have not led a sheltered existence. I have been around the world to many foreign lands, traveled abroad and studied different cultures. My parents insisted it would help me in my future endeavors.

I have seen many, many girls. My own school is full of beautiful girls, many of whom have actively pursued me. I think they were more attracted to my name than anything else about me, though with all modesty I am rather handsome.

But as beautiful as they are, none of them can compare to her.

Layla.

Why do you haunt me so?

Every time I close my eyes I see you. Your deep red hair, your bottomless green eyes, your elven features. But I see something else.

I see your aura.

Did you know that you glow like the brightest full moon, even in broad daylight?

You are radiant. Hypnotic. You have burned your image into my eyes…my mind…my soul.

Yes, I have a soul.

A remarkable thing for a "villain" to say. But it's true.

I know I do, because I first felt it when I kissed you…and it has ached ever since.

I stole a kiss from you, using…HIS form.

My mind drifts to him as well, but I cannot let it now. I must concentrate on you.

That kiss…that was the moment I was born.

Like a baby alone in the world, I also am at a loss at what to do.

I have wandered around in a partial daze ever since. I cannot remember anything fully since then.

I have tried to pour these feelings out in my music, to exorcise this…I cannot call it a demon, for it is not evil.

An angel possesses me. Is that possible?

Yes, and her name is Layla.

But I cannot approach her…I cannot go to my knees before her and reveal all these feelings she has awakened in me.

Because of HIM.

Because…I also love him.

I have for years…forever, it seems.

Ever since I first learned of him when we were children…a sick little boy only two years younger than me who was the son of the heroes my parents used to fight with in their "profession". Both of his parents had been struck down, not by the hands of my parents or some other dark being, but by the cruel whims of fate.

His father had gone mad and tried to kill his friends. His grief-stricken mother had collapsed in a nervous breakdown. He was left alone in the world and, in his anguish, blindly lashed out at the ones he blamed for what had happened to his parents. He had powered up and nearly killed himself.

That was the first time I had ever wept for someone else. All that night I stayed awake as the storms raged outside my window, wondering what kind of God would allow such a thing to happen to such good and noble people while those far worse than my own parents were alive and virtually untouched.

I wept like that every night for two months.

Then my father succeeded as I had hoped and prayed to the same God I had questioned and cursed. The boy would live.

I quickly went to work, using my father's devices to craft him a gift…something I knew he could use in his loneliness.

I made a teddy bear out of fire resistant materials, and used my father's teleportation device to sneak myself into his room as he was recovering.

I don't know how long I stood by his bedside, looking at him as he peacefully slept.

Even after being sick for so long, he was absolutely beautiful.

I placed the bear where he could easily reach it, and whispered words of encouragement into his ear. I had come to know this boy as well as I knew my own little brother and sister. I had imagined that maybe he was…or could be another brother.

It did take a while for him to recover enough to leave the hospital, but I made the most of every chance I had to teleport into his room and watch him while he slept.

And I fell in love with him.

Finally he did leave the hospital, and was reunited with his mother, who had recovered with the help of my mother. But I did not approach him nor make my presence known to him because my parents had sadly forbidden it.

To this day I do not know why.

But I defied my parents, at least in my own way. I watched Warren from a distance, using every means of science and technology or magic I could learn trying to decipher my mother's magic books.

I watched everything that happened to him. I gloried in his moments of triumph, and wept in his times of anguish and loneliness. I have to admit that I did a lot more crying than rejoicing.

All the while I maintained my façade of being the dutiful son, learning to use my powers and training my mind and body as I attended H.A.D.E.S., the school for villains that is the counterpart and rival to Sky High, preparing for the day I would also become a super villain like my parents.

But cruel fate had robbed my parents of their archenemies…and me of mine. As the son of the Mandragores, I was supposed to be the foe of the same boy I had loved for years.

But I did not want to fight him, nor did it seem that anyone thought I should.

I was a villain without a hero.

Until the spring of my senior year.

And I met him.

Will Stronghold.

God, I HATE that name.

I hate him.

Just as my love for Warren has grown like a tree for years and my love for Layla like a night blooming creeper that appeared suddenly and entwined my heart, I have grown a hatred for the son of the Commander and Jetstream like a poisonous thistle that sucks nutrients from the ground and gives nothing back…a vile weed.

I don't know why.

I knew he existed, even before my sister Victoria developed a crush for him, and set out to win his heart. This fit in my mother's own plans to see Layla and Warren together, for she had decided that they were perfect for each other…and they are.

So I was recruited to help with the plan. First I made it look like I was menacing my sister, and Will and I fought…sort of. Even after he nearly put me through a concrete wall I didn't care one way or another for him. I was happy to help my sister and mother.

But then I used the ring to imitate Warren…to lure Layla to him…and I kissed her. I didn't know her kiss would do what it did to me.

It freed my soul.

It brought out all the desires I had held hidden away for years. My love for Warren nearly drove me mad…and it combined with these newly found feelings for Layla.

I guess I went crazy.

I went against my mother's wishes. I let Balthazar talk me into attacking Will and his friends…even our littlest brother Loki got involved while two…people I thought were my friends abandoned me.

I had only one target in mind…one person I wanted to hurt.

Will Stronghold.

Because I was jealous.

He was a friend with Warren…who he had only known for a few months.

The miserable, skinny little bastard.

He did not even know Warren existed until he came to Sky High…I had know Warren for years…YEARS! I should be Warren's best friend…I AM his best friend! I know everything about him…his favorite music, the food he hates, his work schedule at the Paper Lantern…all that and more.

How many nights have I laid awake in bed or sat at my piano, trying to compose music and all I longed to do was run my fingers through his red-streaked lion's mane of black hair, to hear his rumbling voice whisper in my ear.

Then there was Layla. Beautiful spring day Layla, who smells of honeysuckle and whose lips taste of wild honey and cherries. I want so much to take her in my arms, feel the power of life that stirs within her against my own body to finish driving out the darkness always within my heart.

I want them both. I need them both. I love them both.

I cannot have them.

But Will Stronghold can.

Maybe that is why I hate him.

He has their love…well, friendship anyway, but that is still a form of love.

I want that.

I want more than that.

I want to love them and have them love me, even though they both barely know that I exist.

But I cannot have that.

At least not at long as Will Stronghold is alive.

Now I am beginning to think like a villain.

I know what I want. I want to take it no matter what…and whom I must destroy to get it.

But I cannot do that.

My sister loves him. I cannot hurt her.

Layla and Warren love him. I cannot hurt them.

I cannot hurt the ones I love…even if it means winning them.

I am a villain with a heart.

I am damned.