The second chapter... Well here goes!
"I don't understand why I have to go, Mother."
The Queen of Hearts shushed her baby boy and waddled over to him with her large black and red, heart spotted dress bellowing out on either side of her. She placed a fat hand tenderly on his face, before she inelegantly threw her meaty arms around his thin frame. The woman squeezed tightly, smiling at her son's slight noise of discomfort.
He spoke tiredly within her arms, "This is stupid. My life is here on the Isle with you and father. Not there with those snooty rich people."
The sudden bite in his voice had his mother smirking with pride, and she patted him happily on his back, before she finally pulled away. The woman lifted his chin with a gentle finger, looking deeply into his dark eyes. He stared forlornly back.
"Exactly, but the King demands your presence," she cheerfully perked, "Just think of this as a learning experience."
The Queen forcefully wiggled her son's chin and grinned in a mothering fashion. Fully used to her painful affections, the teen allowed her to move his face airily in a jerky, side-to-side motion. He let out a mental sigh at his mother's senseless sameness.
The obese woman softly romanticized, "Think of this as a way to finally see what it is like to live favorably and free," until a vile edge entered her voice, and her face started to turn a boiling shade of red, "Just think of it as a way to exact revenge on all of those who have wronged us. Like that stupid Hatter and his doting Alice-"
"Whoa, whoa mother! Easy there," her son swiftly soothed, "You know what the Doc said about your blood pressure."
His mother took in a bunch of steadying breaths, but hatefully rolled her eyes, testily replying, "God Ace, he's a witchdoctor, not a physician. That man couldn't even get a woman to marry a frog, let alone save a life."
Her son, Ace of Hearts, merely screwed up his face and muttered, "But didn't Tiana marry-", before he was interrupted by his overly doting mother.
"Dear me, I am so sorry. I lashed out again, didn't I?" she asked, "Oh, your father has been sending me to anger management classes, lately. Hopefully I can get better… I just let my anger get the best of me for a moment."
Ace shrugged her shoulders, looking through the short black bangs that hung over his eyes. He fumbled awkwardly with the sleeve of his spiked, leather jacket for a moment, before placing his hands within the comfort of his jacket pockets. The teen stood there moderately bored, until his mother finally cleared out her throat.
"Anyway, you start at Auradon tomorrow," she commanded, "Now, go pack your bags."
"But Mother-," he started.
"Now!" the dark haired teen heard her roar.
So that is what he did.
"Dad?"
A girl with long flowing tresses stomped angrily down the shaking planks of an abandoned dock within the middle of the Island. She stopped at the edge of a small plot of water and cocked an angry hip, staring heatedly down at the small tug boat that bounced contentedly in one place, stuck with nowhere else to go. There came the unimportant sound of shuffling from inside the infuriating mode of transportation, and the teen felt a wave of pure hate rush through her whole body. Yelling a loud curse, she stomped her boot sharply onto the ground. A bang sounded throughout the tiny cabin.
The teen rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, as a bumbling Captain James Hook came fumbling his way through the cabin's entryway out onto the miniscule poop-deck. She glared dangerously down at her father.
"Yo dad!" she shouted. When his black eyes glanced up, she rushed to pull out a crumbled up slip of paper from her tight black jeans, "Just what the hell does this prissy bull-crap mean?"
Her father brightened and laughed. He shook his left hook eagerly in her direction, "Ah, you found it! Isn't this so wonderful? I heard that it is truly a sight to behold, Auradon High. Big flags and lots of plants; the whole shebang. Just what my little girl deserves. Aren't you excited to be able to see it?"
"More like, appalled that you would ever agree that I would go!"
Captain Hook blinked confusedly when his daughter practically screamed at him from her spot on the dock, and he moved his up hook to lazily scratch at his ear. The washed up codfish picked at the inside of his earlobe and asked, "Well, would it help if I said that I honestly had no choice in the matter? The royal family isn't just persuasive, after all. They have an entire boat's worth of guards and a land-full of magic at their disposal, neither of which I have anymore."
She paused, suddenly impressed. So even the goody two shoes had a bad side, huh?
Her father continued, "No crew. No Mr. Smee. No pixie dust… Man, this is depressing."
His daughter shook her head and stomped her boot again to grab his attention.
"Enough moping," the spunky teen ordered, "Just explaining. Now, how long am I going to have to sit through all of these… yuck, goodness lessons? Gross. Utterly gross. Ugh, Dad, I am a pirate with a pirate's blood coursing through my blood for peter's sake, not some nice, prissy little girly landlubber. I can't be a princess. I am practically a guy. I would look ridiculous in a dress!"
Her father chuckled, "I'm sure they won't make you wear a dress."
"That's not my point!" the teen suddenly very tearfully screamed, "I don't want to go!"
As she began to shake with a few light sobs, Hook quickly hopped up onto the dock from his miniature vessel and drew her into his thin arms.
"Shh, shh," he shushed her gently, "You'll be alright… Who is my little Jenny?"
The usually tough and commanding woman sniffled and allowed herself to be hugged by her father. It was not a daily occurrence for her to let him see her cry, but she decided that perhaps she would permit her father to witness her small meltdown. After all, it was going to be a rough few months leaving her only loved one behind, marooned on a corrupted island… Who knew when she would get hugged like this again.
Still, the teen was lucky enough to have a father who actually cared about her. It was upsetting, but most children on the Isle of the Lost did not even have parents, let alone a parent who was uncaring.
Jenny let out an exhausted sigh, bringing her arms in tight around her father. Weeping outwardly, she sang under her breath, "Yo ho, yo ho. A pirate's life for me."
A dark-skinned man ran around his dimly lit bedroom, attempting to grab his new pack of tarot cards. Unfortunately, the shadows surrounding him liked the prospect of being both longer and faster than the young, voodoo Doctor in training. They tossed the pack across the room, laughing mutedly and making a big show with each large chuckle. On this side of the kingdom, magic did not work for the teen. Contrariwise, much to the teen's own chagrin, the limitations seemed to work just fine for the spirits from the other side. He grumbled unintelligibly beneath his breath.
Suddenly, there came a heavy banging on his door.
The yelping screams of his father made the boy run over to quickly open the door. He stared with raised eyebrows, as his father, Doctor Facilier, scrambled crazily into his son's room, fumbling over everything like a scared dog. He regarded his father as the lanky swindler climbed up onto the broken springs of his son's bed and leaned his entire body against the wall. This was as high as the man could get without his help from the other side, and after their last partnership, the beings had completely cut off all ties to the foolish peddler. Yet that did not stop them from continually tantalizing him by doing everything for his very flesh and blood. The spirits were at the beck and call of his only child, Amedee Facilier.
The witchdoctor panicked, "C-Close the door Amedee! You've gotta protect me. Order your friends to protect me!"
The teen in question unsurely looked at the shadows which made negative gestures at the wild-eyed Doctor, and their shoulders rolled along with their silent laughter. He grinned uneasily and apologetically glanced up at his father, "I'm not sure they wanna do that, Dad. I think they like seeing you panic."
"In a minute they'll be seeing me be dead!" the elder Doctor cried.
Amedee rolled his eyes and cracked his neck, fully closing the door behind him. Mildly glaring, he questioned idly, "Okay Dad, just who in the heck did you piss off this time?"
Facilier growled beneath his breath but complained, "That stupid Horace. That stupid, tubby hobo. I promised that he would get thinner if he would just give me a shilling, but of course it was only a fake spell that worked for about ten minutes-"
"Don't tell me," he son harshly winced.
Facilier nodded gravely, "The potion had a mistake. It actually made him fatter!"
The cry that left his father's lips had Amedee exasperatingly placing a hand over his eyes. He moved the dark appendage exhaustedly down his face and glared intensely at his father.
"Dad, I done told you to just simply leave the knock-off spells to the witches! You have no real power here! When will you ever learn, huh? What will you do for protection once I'm gone?"
A harsh knocking erupted on the door a couple of feet away from Amedee's room, and the teen's anger returned tenfold on his father. He could not believe this.
"You led the minion here?" he whispered his strangled cry.
Horace came to stand outside his bedroom door. The fat man pounded on the closed door rapidly, and his crooked accent jibbed, "Bloody 'ell, Facilier. Go on, open up tha door! I know ya in there, ya rat!"
Facilier physically shook from his spot against the wall, and his knees repeatedly knocked together. A few fearful tears entered the usually sophisticated man's eyes, and he deeply apologized to his son. The apology never reached his eyes, though.
"Look, I know it was a mistake. But hey, I'll repent for it. Now please protect me!" his strangled cry made his son sigh, as he gave the shadows a firm glance around him. They each stilled and sent him a dirty glance, but followed his movements when the teen went to open his bedroom door. He leaned charismatically against the door-frame.
"Ah, Horace," Amedee easily crooned, "Done come on over for a visit, have you?"
The short but stout man grumbled, "Yew know exactly why I'm 'ere, young Facilier. Now wher' is that bloke o' a father o' yours?"
He grinned and moved to let Horace see his father on the bed. The large man's eyes narrowed.
"Oh, you mean this one?" Amedee asked slyly.
Horace pushed up the sleeves of his torn overcoat and revealed a pair of meaty arms. He quickly took a threatening step towards the disheveled conman saying, "Why I oughta-"
"Uh-uh! Can't let you do that," Facilier's son quipped, "Gotta look out for the family."
He raised his hands, and the shadows shot forward, expertly sweeping the obese man off of his feet.
"I hope you understand," the teen smiled flatly.
The two watched, as the shadows carried Horace outside of the house, to which they drug him halfway across town, and left him in an alleyway with a few painful slugs to the gut.
Amedee sighed. He hated the idea of his father ending up dead somewhere once he concocted a faulty potion, but it was slightly inevitable for the man. He would not stop trying to relive the glory days where he could easily ask his friends from the other side to perform voodoo for him. He was an absolute joke. He was also a liar, and the villains did not take too kindly to being lied to. Sure, they loved evil deeds. But you did not lie on the Isle of the Lost.
The teen gave his father a weary glance. His shoulders fell in mild dejection, before he furiously managed, "W-Why you gotta go and do these kinds of things just before I leave, huh? You done got yourself into trouble, and I ain't even gone yet. What's next? A grave with your face on it?"
"Already happened," Facilier easily quipped, as he moved to clamber off Amedee's bed, "And I know, but it was just one last quickie before you go off to that preppy high school of yours. I know that you're excited to go, but what are you even gonna do there?"
His son thought for a long moment, until he finally sent his father a conspiring gleam. His brown lips turned upward into an overly confident grin, and the teen fingered confidently at the deck of tarot cards that sat in the pocket of his flowy clothing. He sauntered forward, and his eyes turned dark with power.
"I'm gonna have fun," Amedee eagerly mused, "Ain't that right, guys?"
Now finished with their job, the teen's shadows quickly zoomed into the room and dutifully stopped by his side. They grinned largely. One of the mischievous shadows reached over and quickly slapped the much younger Facilier's waiting hand with a slinking movement, to which the teen only nodded his head and smirked cockily into his father's gaze. He stared directly into his father's eyes, until the teen airily finished with a mocking tune, "Cause I got friends on the other side."
A cold chill settled within the halls of a moderately sized cathedral, and a tall Judge Claude Frollo stood taut above the form of his dull-faced daughter. He glared scathingly down at her, as she stared mutedly back at him. In her eyes, locked far away within the depths of her dark grey orbs, there was a gleam of sadness which was carefully mixed with a dash of righteousness and divine duty to her Lord. A shot of longing entered the mix. She still missed her mother, although she would never miss the man standing in front of her. He was cruel, and he was ugly in heart, but the teen fully believed in what he preached. She had to, if only to keep herself sane throughout the constant painful taunts and horrible jibs at her personality. Someone so kind, yet sinful. Her father considered her like he would the gum which was stomped out of the streets of the Isle: like useless trash and utter scum.
But this would not stop her search for divinity. This would never stop her.
Sherah Frollo believed in the word of the Lord. She believed in the kindness of God, and she sought validity through the veil of her rough situation. He gave her the strength to carry on, even when it could be so easy to just jump off a building; to just tie a noose around her neck. He made her believe in the possibility of love and happiness… If only her earthly father could practice what he preached.
The elder Frollo straightened his back and fingered at the worn bible within his hands. He moved it carefully to rest down by his side, and his blackened robe shifted softly in the yellow of God's light casting through the glass windows. He gravely asked, "Have you packed your things?"
Sherah dutifully nodded, although she failed to meet her father's gaze. The girl absolutely refused to.
"I have," she gradually replied with an enduring air, "My bible is packed, and everything is ready to go. I am prepared to do whatever it takes to make you proud, father."
Judge Claude Frollo nodded silently, and his daughter continued on.
"I will free these people to where they can finally see the gravity of their sins. I will have them see the error of their ways. They will soon repent and ask for God's forgiveness, as his might is the only just concept in the world."
"Too true," her father stoically agreed, "The world is an ugly and sinful place. It needs more people like me, people who can lead the lamb to salvation. The wicked ways shall either be swiped clean or later smited righteously at the hand of his holy grace. There is no in-between."
His daughter felt like sighing at his selfish nature, but she knowingly held her tongue. The woman knew that saying anything remotely cynical could result in a terrible, stinging beating against her skin, so she opted to stay eerily quiet. All she did was give a small breathy mumble beneath her lips.
"Yes, father."
With that said, she turned away from her only parent with tears edging in the very corners of her grey eyes and began to progressively walk away. This was all that she could do whenever she had to be in his presence for what seemed like far too long; walk away and keep her head down. He would laugh in her face if he saw her cry, and then he would tell her to get down onto her knees and weep profusely at the feet of the Lord.
"I hate him," Sherah muttered sinfully, as she closed the cathedral door behind her, "I hate him, hate him!"
The teen reached up to tenderly wipe away at the salty tears, which were quickly forming in her eyes and sticking to her long lashes. Her other hand reached down into her pocket to grasp onto a thin locket which contained the beautifully greyed photo of her mother. It had darkened with age and normal wear.
Sherah sorrowfully pulled out the golden chain and resolutely hung the precious object around her neck. She breathed in. A miserable sigh escaped her. Even if the teen was not allowed to wear the offending object while she was in her father's presence, she would be damned to Hell if she could not wear it whenever she was alone… Thank goodness she was usually alone.
The poor girl swallowed distastefully at the hard lump which was forming at the bottom of her throat, before she allowed a solitary teardrop to cascade along the side of her cheek. Her gaze turned regrettable, as her heart panged from the caverns of her chest. She rested a gentle hand over her breast and lipped a tiny prayer to her God. As far as she was concerned, the teen was certainly going to need his grace.
A cheerful yell broke out across a hot, black abyss.
"Ah Demetriades, baby! Guess what came in the mail today?"
The receiver of the call looked up and grunted in minor aversion. She rolled her eyes skyward and asked for Zeus to help give her strength, before glaring over at her father from her place on the couch, which she had just conjured by using whatever trivial magic was now left of her powers. A light pink hand waved in mild greeting.
"Oh, I don't know," Demetriades sarcastically wondered, "Zeus finally gave you a promotion?"
Her father Hades laughed pointedly at that, but then deadpanned.
"No. No, he did not. But that is not the most terrible news, this is even more terrible news!"
Demetriades rolled her eyes again, but decided to humor her father's dramatics. She really did miss her mother Persephone, but she was currently away for half of the year, as per her parents' original agreement with Zeus… And even thinking about the whole endeavor was an entirely new can of worms that she did not feel like opening. The teen shuddered slightly at the thought. She gave her father a blank stare.
"What could be more terrible than having to spend an eternity in this shitty place?" she asked Hades sardonically. He sent his daughter a narrowed glare.
"I get it. You miss living on the surface with your mother, but since you have the powers of a goddess and the blood of a villain running through your veins, it just isn't possible to let you leave. Sure it gets dreary as hell, no pun intended, but that traffic has been getting much heavier in the past twenty-odd years, what with smoking and obesity clogging up everyone's lungs and arteries. But hey, business is booming! Bodda boom, bodda bing. It's hard, but it's work."
"Slave work," Demetriades muttered, and then sighed indulgently, "Fine, fine. It just sucks that you get the crap job, while all of the other Gods get to party like stars upstairs… So, what news is there? You got a new scheme to get a celebrity's soul? Because, ya know, I was thinking James Woods. I just hate how he gave you such a grating quality to your voice."
Hades moved his hand in a shushing gesture and closed his fingers abruptly. He let out an annoyed breath, "It is not grating, you ungrateful goddess. It is mildly aggravating at best. Anyway, I happen to love my voice, but that is not the point right now. You have been summoned, sweet cheeks. My little mirror image of Persephone."
Demetriades raised a beautiful blond brow, but gave Hades her full attention.
"What do you mean summoned?" her eyes squarely narrowed in probing concentration. She paused for a long moment and said, "I never get summoned anywhere, except for all of those lame baby showers for the new Gods... What are you getting at, bluebell? Tell me."
The goddess's father grinned, but attempted to hold down the blunt of his amusement. He failed miserably, and the beautiful teen let out a loud growl when he began to laugh outright in her face.
"Dammit Dad! Explain yourself or so help me Zeus, I will-"
Hades guffawed, "S-Some kind of s-stupid human school."
Demetriades blinked, and her face contorted into a screwed up expression. She blanched, as her father grinned stupidly from his spot above her. He spoke enthusiastically with his blue hands.
"I know, right? Humans! Oh my Gods, they are so hilarious! They think that they can just randomly send us a ghost messenger, and they can make you go?"
"I'm not," his daughter sharply barked in reply, "And there is no way anyone can force me into going."
Hades smirked, "Unless they're me, of course."
Demetriades stared humorlessly from her seat on the couch. She instantly paled at the implications of her father's statement.
"What?" came her suddenly shocked voice.
"You heard me, baby cakes," he mockingly confirmed, "You are going to Auradon High. Now pick up your pretty little butt and go pack whatever stuff you literally don't have on you. I mean, you're the daughter of a freaking God. Just get out of my presence and conjure up some stupid clothes once you finally get there. I don't care."
"But you honestly can't be serious about this, right?" she heard herself ask worriedly, "I mean, I have never really been to the surface, let alone met a live person. I know virtually nothing about these humans."
Her father grinned mercilessly and threw a hard hand repeatedly on her back. She huffed indignantly.
"Oh, but I am, doll face. I am more serious about this than I have been about anything else in my entire life… Except for that whole fiasco with Hercules and Megara… Yeah, Zeus is never going to let me live that down."
Demetriades felt like her entire world was crumbling around her. She sniffed indelicately.
"Well, what in the name of you am I even supposed to do once I get there?" she asked quizzically, "I don't know how humans act. I don't understand them in the slightest."
Hades laughed, "Well, you know that you're the child of a villain. Do what children of villains normally do. Act like a villain."
Demetriades sighed pitifully. The weight of her father's simple remark had her staring exasperatedly at the ground below her, as she uselessly went over her choices within her mind. Well, the goddess could always firstly refuse, and then be forced to go. Likewise, she could also just accept her fate and still have to go. Oh, the plethora of alternatives that were at her disposal.
Just as the goddess was about to reluctantly bow down to her father's will, the stubborn teenager felt a wave of irate fury rush through her. Her brows narrowed dangerously, and a deep fire entered her dark eyes. The hand by her side filled with a bright ball of pink fire, as her form shook from her intense vehemence. No, she could not just give up on this without first putting up at least some kind of fight!
Demetriades let out a wild growl. Oh, she would never leave the Underworld in order to be sent to that stupid preppy human school. Ever.
A short, slightly pudgy teen glared around himself at the various broken shells that laid upon the slightly wet floor beneath him. Beside the shells, laid a cracked fish tank. He stared angrily at the mess that he made, his eyes running coldly over his own handiwork. He noted with a smirk that a few fish laid lifeless amongst the pieces of glass and seashells. The evil teen watched, as the last fish wiggled around in one spot for a long moment, before it finally took in its last gasp of air and suddenly passed. He let out a cruel and unloving laugh, staring hatefully at the unmoving creature.
He physically jumped when a shocked voice came from behind him. He rolled his eyes when he realized that it was the shrill screaming of his mother, Ursula.
"Major! Oh my god, my babies. Major, I am appalled at you!"
Her son only smirked, until he turned around to face her and gave her an earnest expression.
"But it was an accident, Mother! Honest!"
Ursula only harrumphed and hatefully grabbed at his cheek. He yelped, and he closed his eyes. The purple orbs teared up, as she practically drug him across the living room into his bedroom with a purposeful sharpness in her steps.
"Don't give me that shit! You may be able to lie your way out of everyone else's shit," the livid woman complained, "But you certainly aren't pulling a fast one over me. Oh, you are definitely leaving this house tomorrow!"
Major faked a panicked tone, "But Mother! Please don't make me go! I don't want to go! I love you!"
Ursula tossed her son hatefully into the room and threw his door shut behind him. A brash slam resounded throughout the entire apartment building.
"You don't love me! I don't think that you're capable of loving anyone!"
As Major carelessly listened to his mother's scream, he could not help but smirk contemptuously at her trivial spouting. On the contrary, his mother could not have been any more wrong.
Walking over to his bedside drawer, the black haired teen opened the piece of furniture and placed a handsome finger over the small picture frame that sat within it. He traced it delicately across the face of the beautiful woman smiling back at him, before a soft smile overtook his features. For a moment, there was no malice in his blackened heart; only the love and comfort they he inwardly drew from her smile. A tender sigh left his lips, and he raised the frame gently up to his mouth. He gave the image a small kiss.
"I'm coming for you, Melody."
The teen spoke his loving proclamation, and he stuck the picture frame carefully back inside his drawer. He glanced around himself nervously, before he let out a small chuckle, which gradually grew into a hearty chortle.
It was official. Major was ready for whatever Auradon High had in store for him.
And so it begins... Haha, so what do you think of our new villains? I can always add more later, if you guys want. As always, feel free to give me suggestions for things that you would like to see take place in this story. I hope you enjoy it so far, and please review! I love reading what you guys think! (: