In Which the Heroine Miraculously Escapes
Jayda stared at Tristan's retreating form. She was very irritated. This had not been what she'd had in mind when she'd decided to come here. Then again...this was supposed to happen, wasn't it? But if the movies were right, she'd escape anyway.
"Hey, can you let me out?" Jayda asked, pressing herself up against the bars. The henchman glanced sideways at her, his expression guilty.
"I can't. He's coming back."
"Ugh," She groaned, banging her head on the bars in front of her. "Fine. Is he gonna monologue? I've heard that's very common for villains."
"Yes. It's supposed to help you better understand his motives." The man glanced over his shoulder, where a great lot of muttering and banging could be heard. A moment later, Tristan walked back into the room. Jayda stared at him. He was actually fairly short for a guy, with short, greasy black hair and a greasy face. To be honest, she found him a little gross. In his left hand, he carried a stack of what looked like cue cards.
"Sir, what are those cue cards for?" The henchman, whom Tristan claimed was named Pete, asked, glowering at the tiny pieces of paper.
"Well, originally you plotted out my monologue, correct?"
"Well...yes."
"So, I took notes, and then I lost the notes. So, I made up my own new monologue. Sit back and relax, this is gonna be good!"
"Is it too late to leave?" The man asked, taking a step away from the cell. However, before he could get any farther, Jayda grabbed his jacket.
"Don't you dare leave me!" She yelled, clinging tightly to the black fabric.
He sighed. "Fine."
She breathed her own sigh, though hers was one of relief, as he sat down with his back against the bars.
Tristan cleared his throat and began. "But that's a story for another day. I began my journey for- wait. Pete, did you touch my cards?!"
"My name," The henchman growled, "Is not Pete! And why would I touch your cards? I didn't even know you had any!"
"Okay then...you! Hero! Did you touch my cards?" He seemed absolutely positive that the clearly out-of-order cue cards had nothing to do with him.
"I have a name too, you know," Jayda grumbled. "And I'm pretty sure you know what it is!"
"What is it with you people and demanding I know your names?!"
"I'm your cousin," The henchman replied in a frustrated tone of voice.
"And I'm your nemesis, I'm important!" Jayda shouted.
"Well, technically, you're not at this point," The man pointed out. "This moment is supposed to be all about the villain."
"Thank you. Now, back to me back story!"
"You're not Irish," The henchman grumbled.
"How would you know? You haven't heard my back story yet!"
"I'm sorry," Mrs. Luka piped up. "That was my fault, it was a typo."
Tristan stared at her in disbelief. "Who are you? What are you doing in my lair?"
"I'm your grandmother, dear," The old woman replied with a smile.
Jayda raised her eyebrows incredulously. "You didn't seriously...forget...right? We literally just covered this."
Tristan ignored her. "Now about me, I was born and raised on a country farm. I was always a quiet chap, and I was very good with the family cow. She was our only source of income. Although I suppose I was pretty good with the pigs too. However, everything turned sour when-"
"Wait, if the cow was your only source of income, how do the pigs fit in? And how was a single cow enough to keep your family alive?" Jayda interrupted, feeling rather confused. "Your stupid story doesn't make sense!"
Tristan had ignored the interruption and had actually continued talking over her, so he was now in a totally different part in his story, which only served to make the tale even more confusing.
"-and then the innkeeper took me in. He had a daughter who was very nice to me, but I actually found her quite rude. One day she told me-"
"Hold up." Jayda spoke over him again. "How can she be rude, yet nice at the same time?" With every word that came out of his mouth, she had grown more and more confused. "Was she rude to others? You need to clarify."
"-this threw me into despair. A kind old man took me in, but he soon perished in a fire. I continued my journey, only to come across-"
"And you weren't upset or scarred by this?" Jayda just couldn't help herself. The story, quite literally, made no sense. He continued to ignore her and rambled on. Something about a king, she thought, frowning at him. There was something kind of off about the way he looked...
"Has anyone ever told you that you're kind of girly?" She asked, taking in the long black cloak, leather clothing and spikes that adorned his outfit. "A little like a punk girl."
"Shut up! And...yeah. I get that a lot. But stop interrupting! I still have...oh. I'm done.How did you like my well thought-out back story?" Tristan said this with such pride, Jayda almost didn't have the heart to tell him how terrible it had been.
Almost.
"Well, to be honest, it was really confusing," She explained, "There were too many contradicting story lines. Also, if I'm being super honest, I zoned out for most of it."
"That took so much research! I was on the computer for hours! It took me a long time to put all those stories together! I took only the best of each villain." Now, he was sounding more frustrated than proud.
The henchman stood up and dusted off his coat. "Do you mean to say that isn't actually your back story?"
"Of course not! Mine was too boring. And you would know, you were there for most of it."
"I...was?"
Tristan threw up his hands in defeat. "I give up! I'm going to go get a juice box. Watch the prisoner." And with that, the evil villain walked away.
As soon as he disappeared into the back, Jayda turned to the henchman. "Can you let me out now? Please? It's late, and my parents will be worried if I'm not there in the morning."
He shook his head regretfully, making the snake tattoo on his neck look eerily alive. "I'm really sorry, but with Tristan still in the room, it's too risky for both of us."
Jayda groaned and knocked her head back against the wall as Tristan came stomping out of the back in a fit of rage. "We're out of juice boxes!" He yelled.
Pete- or whatever his name was- pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger in exasperation. "We're right here. You didn't have to yell."
"You can't tell me what to do! You're the henchman!" Tristan stomped over to the door, paused, stomped back, grabbed his coat, then stomped over to the door again. There, he stopped only for a moment to glare at them both before yanking open the door and storming out.
Returning her gaze to the henchman, Jayda arched an eyebrow. "How 'bout now?"
He sighed. Jayda thought he sighed a lot.
"Alright. There's actually a door just right..." He trailed off, staring at the wall behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, Jayda saw a door propped open by a box of soup cans, and a carton of juice boxes.
"Um, was that there bef-"
She was cut off as he threw open the cage door, sprinted to the door behind her, grabbed the pile of food, and started to run back, stopping only when the door clicked shut behind him. "Oh...sorry about that. I can break the door open for you."
"Can't I just use the front door?" Jayda asked, getting to her feet and dusting off the seat of her jeans. The henchman shook his head in response.
"No. You can never use the obvious exit."
"And that isn't obvious?" Jayda gestured to the glowing red exit sign above the now-closed back door.
"Well... yes, I suppose it is. But you're not allowed to just leave through the front door. Always use the back exit." Setting down the stack of food, he walked over to the door and tore it off its hinges. "If Tristan asks, you overpowered me."
"Yeah, because I could totally do that," She said, eyeing his muscles. "But thank you anyway."
Ducking beneath the shattered brickwork, Jayda sprinted out into the night.