Black Hat sat broodily in his armchair, finger pads pressed together, hands steepled. His office was quiet, save for the subtle, creaky whine emitting from his chair as he bobbed his leg up and down impatiently, not quite sure what he was impatient for. He was in another one of his restless fits that he had begun to become accustomed to once he had started retirement. He couldn't just sit here and continue filing documents and taking calls. It was all too slow-paced, all too mundane. He needed to rile up the ancient, poisonous blood coursing through his body. He pondered over what could help resolve his rather irritating predicament. A walk around the manor wouldn't hurt, or perhaps, he would play his organ for an hour or two. Starting wildfires always seemed to shake him out of his stupors as well, though, he mused.
Much to his annoyance, he heard a knock at the door right when he was in the middle of deciding over either strolling through town and dumping tacks on the roads or committing high-level arson.
"Enter," he barked gruffly, in no mood to entertain any company besides his own sinister thoughts.
You entered cautiously into the office, clutching a parcel of papers tight to your chest. You could tell with one glance that he was in a sour mood, but then again, there was seldom a time that he actually wasn't. You walked briskly, mechanically towards his desk, bowing low before meeting his eyes. During your time in his organization, you soon came to learn that he was a creature that demanded a certain standard of courtesy and punctuality from his employees. So, naturally, you resolved to perfect your skills in both efficiency and being a total suck-up. Was it your proudest mannerism to admit? No, but you concluded that that was fine because you could still proudly say that you had all of your limbs intact. The last sorry soul who disrespected Black Hat couldn't really say the same.
"Good morning, Mr. Black Hat, sir," you told him happily, trying to shake off the nerves that constantly pestered you when you spoke to him, raising one hand to your forehead in a salute. When he just stared at you blankly, expectantly, you decide to roll with the punches and simply continue.
"I, ah, brought you your mail, sir," you stated a bit more lightly, flinching when he made a sudden gesture with his hand, motioning to place it on his desk.
"Give it here," he replied, looking extremely bored, resting his chin on his palm.
You did as you were told, hoping that he wouldn't notice the slight tremble in your hand before placing them down. You weren't usually this nervous around him. You thought yourself a bit braver than that. He wasn't even angry or screaming or contorting his body into horrifying displays of inhuman terror or anything! If you were completely honest with yourself, you knew full-well what you were so anxious over, but you concluded that it would be much more to your benefit if you acted like nothing was out of the ordinary at all. Yes, you'd just have a brief talk once he saw it, and then you'd be on your merry way. A part of you knew that you were being ridiculous, but you decided to push that part out of your thoughts.
Oh, he was staring at you right now as you fidgeted and awkwardly stood in front of him, a hint of annoyance evident in his menacing eyes.
"You may leave, now," he addressed you in a dismissive tone, waving his hand like he was shooing off a measly fly.
"Of- of course sir, but uh, shouldn't you maybe look at your mail real quick? There might be something... unusual about it. I mean, have you seen the postman who delivers to us? I don't trust him; he's a shady guy all right. A few days ago I saw him, and he was wearing sandals... with socks. Honestly, and society calls us the villains when there are people like George the Mailman walking about and making a disgrace of themselves!" you exclaimed with a huff, raising your arms in aggravation.
You really hated George, that bastard.
"What are you blabbering on about this time, you pathetic waste of oxygen?" he rumbled, exhaling loudly.
"I, uh, wanna see you look at your mail, sir," you meekly replied, wringing your hands together and biting your lip.
Black Hat facepalmed, and you glanced away to avert your eyes in case he decided to rip off his skin. You shivered, remembering the last time he performed the gruesome act. Truly, how did he manage to make facepalming scary?
"You do understand how I hate when idiots like yourself waste my time, don't you?" he asked coldly as he flipped absently through his mail, barely even glancing at the papers.
He was just about to continue berating you when something caught his attention. He lifted up the small card from the stack, inspecting the outside cover with deject interest. It was homemade, obviously, constructed from simply a folded piece of printer paper. The handwriting on the front was legible, but a bit messy, and around the words were scribbles of balloons and stars. He watched as you immediately straightened up when he looked over the card; your attempt at a poker face was so horrid that he almost laughed.
"Why did you place this in my mail?" he asked, gravelly voice low and menacing.
"Uh, how do you know for certain I put it in the mail?" you questioned nervously, rubbing at the back of your neck.
"It doesn't even have any stamps on it, for bloody sake. The lettering is in your handwriting, and it's an invitation to your birthday party, you dolt," he hollered, standing from his seat and leaning closer to you, done with your antics.
"Yes, well, you got me there," you replied with a soft, nervous laugh. "This is why you're the big boss, Mr. Black Hat, sir. You're very sharp, finding all the clues and all that," you mumbled, giving him a hesitant thumbs-up and awkward smile.
His anger seemed to deflate some, replaced with simple disappointment. How did he always seem to be in the company of total morons, he wondered. Really, it was almost depressing.
"I believe that there are a few more factors than just my superiority in intelligence that make me your superior, such as my ability to hold a complete conversation without making a total fool of myself," he told you haughtily, leaning back and sitting in his chair.
You folded your hands in front of your chest, deciding to look at the floor instead of letting Black Hat see your face turn red. You knew you weren't the brightest person alive; you knew you had a tendency to trail off topic and mix up your thoughts. But, despite this, you were at least very loyal to your boss, and a hard worker to boot. Couldn't he appreciate at least that? You tensed up, mentally slapping yourself. No, of course he couldn't. He didn't care about any of that, about you. You were simply a pawn of his, in the great scheme of things.
You glanced back up at him, gathering your courage. Screw it all. If you were going to be a pawn, so be it, but you'd be the best pawn out there.
"Of course, Mr. Black Hat," you replied, collecting whatever last shreds of dignity you had left.
"I... I just wanted to give you an invitation in case. I know you're a busy man, and you probably won't come, but you know, just ah, just in case," you stumbled over your words, giving him another thin-lipped smile.
"It says here that it's taking place tomorrow at my own estate. You are inviting me to my own house? You give me directions to arrive at my own house?" he asked, clutching the paper tightly, shaking with annoyance.
"Wouldn't want you to get lost, now!" you replied with a wink, desperately regretting ever going through with this stupid idea.
Black Hat sighed heavily, placing the invitation down on his desk in a deject manner. He straightened out his tie, smoothing down the fabric of his coat.
"Why would you even invite me to such a stupid event? Please, what was your reasoning behind this?" he asked, rubbing at his temple.
"Well," you cleared your throat, "You've gotta keep up appearances, don't you? Attending gatherings like this is good for business, right?"
"How many idiots did you even manage to invite?"
"Oh, ah, just a few. It won't be a big party."
"Who?" he growled.
"It's just going to be Flug, Demencia, 5.0.5, you, and me there," you finally admitted sadly, blush creeping from your cheeks to your neck.
Black Hat smiled for the first time over the course of your conversation, dagger-sharp teeth stretched wide across his face. Your circumstances were so pathetic that he couldn't help but let out a small, cruel chuckle.
"You want me to attend your party to keep up my appearance towards Flug, 5.0.5, and Demencia?" he asked, enjoying the way you squirmed, the way your face lit up with the most appealing color of red.
"Uh, well partially for that and..." you began, trying to come up with another reason he should go. You knew you could persuade him, if you gave him a good enough reason. Black Hat might be a terrifying and merciless monster parading around as some sick parody of a human, but he was also a businessman. He appreciated sound logic, convincing tactics, and anything that worked to his advantage.
"Well, parties definitely boost morale. Hosting one could improve sales and income due to the positive effect it has on employees. It'll give us a leg up, and I mean, who doesn't enjoy a good party? Don't you love it when your birthday rolls along?"
He scoffed, hacking out a laugh that sounded very similar to nails on chalkboard or the clatter of a thousand knifes on cement.
"My birthday? There was no primitive calendar for days of the week and such idiotic trash when I began my glorious existence. Humanity hadn't even waded out of the foul depths of the universe yet. Do you even comprehend just how old I am?" he asked, rolling his eyes.
You mustered up your most solemn and reserved face, voice deadpan, "I might be a villain, sir, but I was always told never to ask someone their age. That's just plain rude."
You ignored his exasperated face and continued, shock seeping into your body.
"But, wait, so you've never had a birthday party before? Never once?" you asked, slightly horrified.
"No," he replied simply, wanting to be done with this pointless conversation.
"No wonder you're so evil," you mused aloud, not believing what you were hearing. "Alright, don't worry sir, I have a plan."
"I don't want to hear your plan, shut up," Black Hat grumbled.
"We'll celebrate both of our birthdays tomorrow! It's gonna be difficult, but I think I can pull it off; no, scratch that, I know I can pull it off!" you exclaimed, bouncing up and down a little.
He could tell by the look in your eyes that you were going to tune out everything he said from this point on, hyper-fixated on the stupid idea brewing in your brain.
"I'm not discussing this further with you. And don't expect me to attend your idiotic waste of time tomorrow, either. You still haven't given me one good reason why I should go," he told you dismissively, shifting his eyes back down to his paperwork.
"What, wait," you began hurriedly, "You- I mean- please come. You need to..."
"Why? Why do you want me to go so badly, hm? Tell me why," he suddenly demanded, voice raised just below a shout as he leaned against his desk towards you, face inches from your own and teeth dangerously bared. He grabbed your shoulders, fingers digging into skin painfully.
"Because... you're important to me. I consider you my friend," you whispered, shifting your eyes away from him.
"Leave," he responded, voice hollow and indifferent as he settled back into his chair as quickly as he had grabbed you in the first place.
"Yes, sir," you mumbled so quietly that you almost didn't say it at all.
You left his office with dampened spirits, trying not to dwell on how horribly the situation backfired on you back there. Who cared? Not you, certainly not you. You wiped away annoying little tears gathering in your eyes. Stupid. He didn't have to come; you could enjoy yourself just fine without him. But, you'd still hang on to that last little shred of hope nagging at you. You might be foolish for doing so, but nothing was going to stop you from making this party special. Black Hat would be so impressed when he saw everything you did for him. He might even compliment you. You had to start now though, you realized frantically.
You dashed through the hall, steely determination driving you further and faster. Whether or not Black Hat arrived tomorrow, you'd make his party the best he could ever have. You were sure of it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Black Hat stood by his window, hands behind his back as he peered outside, not really looking at anything. Your party had started three minutes and thirty-two seconds ago. But, of course, he didn't care, and he certainly wasn't keeping track. You would be in the spare parlor room, the one that hadn't been used for years. He knew how big of an oaf you were; he knew that you were still expecting him to come. And why? Because he was a friend to you.
That's what you had told him, merely a day ago.
He scoffed to himself, clutching his hands tighter behind his back. He was important to you. How stupid of you to say. How moronic. It made him want to throw a chair, to punch a hole in the wall, to destroy a small village or maybe even a city. And the way you had said it. The softness in your voice and the honesty in your words repulsed him, baffled him. He was about ready to fly into a fit. He glanced at his pocket watch. It reminded him of you, the small trinket glittering in the faint light. He had caught you, more than once, admiring it from his desk, taking special care in cleaning the small object when you were doing your daily rounds with the duster. He detested the smile that would play on your face every time you looked at the small device.
Five minutes and four seconds since your party had started.
He paced back and forth in his study, trying not to think of anything while thinking of everything, all at once. You needed to be taught a lesson. He couldn't just allow you to get away with what you did to him. The way you made him feel was atrocious. Oh, he was going to do something horrid to you. Something downright vile.
He pondered over exactly what that would be.
Oh, ohhh he knew. The idea formed in his malicious, twisted mind. He knew what terror he'd reign down on you. He was going to march straight up to your little party and observe just how miserably you had failed at making the event even the slightest bit worthy of his attention. How embarrassed you'd be, once he described, in detail, every little flaw and error of your ways. Then, when he was done and you were reduced to nothing more than a whimpering mess, he'd destroy all that you worked for, and he'd make you watch.
The idea made him chuckle to himself, spirit rising from the thought of someone else's misery. He walked briskly out of the study, not stopping for even a moment until he opened the parlor doors and stepped inside your pathetic excuse of a party, seven minutes and fifty-eight seconds late.
Your head whipped up from the cake you were currently placing candles on, body doing a full turn before landing your gaze on the creature who had just walked through the door. You couldn't quite believe it, couldn't quite grasp it. You bolted straight up to him, almost tripping in the process, slamming on the breaks when you were only a foot away from the nightmarish entity.
"You came!" you exclaimed, out of breath and trying to hide your beaming smile. You knew he hated it when people looked happy.
"Yes, but only to examine what pitiful mess you deem to call a social gathering," he scoffed, eyes wandering up to the tacky banner above him.
It was black with skulls drawn on the sides of it, big, bold letters spelling out "Happy Birthday, Mr. Black Hat" in an irritatingly bright shade of red. This was going to be excruciating, Black Hat thought absently.
"Oh, ok, awesome," you said with a laugh, choosing to not let his harsh words sway you. "Let me show you around, then!"
You dared to grab him by the shirtsleeve, glancing up at his face for a moment to gauge his reaction. He looked annoyed, bored as he stared down at you in an unimpressed manner. You gently tugged him along, gesturing towards the entire room with a wave of your hand.
"I cleared out the whole room to make way for all the party games and stuff. Look, there's Doctor Flug, 5.0.5, and Demencia talking by the refreshment table!" you pointed towards the duo, waving at them.
Demencia waved back frantically, blowing a kiss and winking at Black Hat in a sultry manner. She was just about to walk up to him when Flug held her back, mumbling something in her ear that made her pout. The doctor clutched at his cup of punch in an awkward manner, lifting his hand slightly in a gesture of greeting and looking out of place and nerdy even at a party with only four people and a blue bear.
"I see," Black Hat replied simply, choosing to ignore the three idiots in the corner. He was having trouble enough dealing with the one currently tugging him by the sleeve.
You dragged him towards another area of the room, and he couldn't help but notice the flashy red and black streamers and confetti you had placed all about. Just how long did you work on all of this?
"So, do you like the piñata I made for you?" you asked Black Hat with a smile, gesturing towards the paper-mache skull you had so laboriously worked on for hours.
"No."
"I thought you'd say that," you replied cheerily, grin never wavering, "But, you might change your mind if you ask me what's inside it!"
Black Hat peered down at you with a withering glare, scoffing, "What is inside it, you moron?"
"A nest full of wasps, just for you!" you answered excitedly, knowing that your boss had a soft spot for dangerous insects and human suffering.
"What the bloody hell, how did you get a blasted hive full of wasps inside of a piñata?" he exclaimed, eye twitching with annoyance and bewilderment.
You not-so-subtly moved your arms behind your back, hiding the various bandages littering your skin from the several wasp stings you had to endure earlier that day. A horrid flashback of you climbing up a tree and stuffing the piñata with the first nest you found hidden in leaves suddenly overcame you.
You cleared your throat and spoke in the most deadpan and professional tone you could muster.
"I have a very particular set of skills. Skills I have acquired over a very long career."
"Career of what, wasp collecting?"
"....yes."
"That's it, I'm burning all of this to the ground, you included," he exclaimed, grabbing you by the sides and lifting you up to his eye level to give you a particularly gruesome stare.
"Wait, wait," you said in a rush, not particularly enjoying the thought of being burned alive, "Let me at least show you your cake, and you haven't even opened your present!"
You placed your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, trying to control your uneven breathing, and gave him a pleading look. You just wanted to impress him, to show him that you were a good worker, a good pawn.
He placed you down to the floor, watching as you stumbled a bit before regaining your footing. He'd entertain you for a few more moments, he decided. He could wait a bit longer before totally crushing your petty feelings. You wouldn't consider him your friend after he was done with you.
A sharp pang of something totally foreign to Black Hat suddenly blossomed from somewhere deep in his chest after that particular thought. It threw him for a total loop, eliciting actual surprise from the dark being of total terror and dread. It was unpleasant and horribly irritating. Was it something he ate?
He decided not to drink motor oil mixed with blood this early in the day anymore.
"Fine, continue," he replied with a wave of his hand, subtly placing his other hand where he had felt the unexplainable sensation.
You eagerly grabbed onto his coat and pulled him toward the table holding the cake you had so carefully crafted for him. It was covered in a dark gray color of icing, red piping closely resembling blood splatters. On the top of it was a fondant black hat, slightly drooping, but overall very charming. Three candles were placed on the cake, right above where black icing letters spelled out "Happy Birthday, My Lord Of Total Destruction."
"Do you like it?" you asked bashfully, "The store didn't carry millions of candles, so I settled for three."
"You do realize that I hate sweets, don't you?" he stated gruffly, sneering at the homemade and surprisingly well-constructed cake you had made, only for him.
"Yes, I know!" you excitedly answered, as if waiting for him to ask, "That's why it's not sweet. I actually baked it with- Hey, who took a slice already?"
Looking around, you saw Demencia standing casually against a wall with a piece of cake in her possession.
"What, you really thought I had enough self-restraint to not have bite yet?" she answered indignantly, statement followed closely with an insane laugh, taking a huge bite of the pastry.
She suddenly seized, face turning green as she bent over and hacked up the foul stuff, wiping at her tongue like she had just swallowed arsenic.
"What did you put in the cake, if I may ask," Black Hat questioned calmly, smiling slightly at Demencia's expense.
"Arsenic. It's one of your favorite poisons, right?" you replied, hoping that he would appreciate your keen observation towards his tastes.
"Yes, it happens to be," he mumbled quizzically, "How many times have you almost killed yourself preparing for this, exactly?"
"Four and a half, I would estimate. I guess you could round it to five, but I like keeping fractions. More precise, if you catch my drift," you replied, sagely tapping the side of your head with a knowing look. Black Hat couldn't help but marvel at your momentous lack of self-preservation.
"Oh, and your present! We can't forget the most important part," you said with a small laugh, thrusting a package towards him like a child.
He opened the package, much more careful with the object in his hands than he usually was. It was a book. A scrapbook. It was made of black leather, the front labeled "Black Hat Organization Fun!!!" in hand-stitched lettering. He flipped through the first few pages.
"I was really stumped about what to get you, sir, since you have enough money to pretty much buy anything you want. So I thought, what does Lord Black Hat like? I decided that your favorite things are a tie between evil, suffering, money, and yourself. Sooo, I came up with the idea of a scrapbook that has all of your greatest, cruelest, evilest, and most money-making achievements! Now you can look through it all like you're reliving it! Neat, right?" you were bouncing on the heels of your feet at this point, excitedly clasping your hands together, stars practically dancing in your eyes.
He glanced at you before turning his gaze back to the scrapbook. He was on a page describing his conquer of a particular civilization, a picture of him from the event was even pasted on the page. He had forgotten about the conquest. He unconsciously smiled; he was quite proud of his achievement. He caught himself grinning and instantly stopped, flipping to another page only to land on a picture of you.
You were standing next to him, shaking his hand with a giant beam of a smile on your face. This was the picture taken on the day you were accepted into his staff, an official Black Hat Organization member. Under the picture, you had written in your sickeningly familiar handwriting, "Best day ever!!" He drifted back up to your smiling face in the photo, then even higher to your expectant expression peering at him from above the book.
"How long did it take you to set this all up? To do all of this?" Black Hat asked, voice strained, trying to hold back the unexplainable anger coursing through him.
"I haven't slept for the past twenty-four hours since we last talked," you replied without even missing a beat, eye slightly twitching.
"And where is your own birthday decorations? Wasn't this your party?" he continued to question, idly drawing circles on the surface of the book he was holding.
Your eyes went wide, mouth slightly dropping in surprise as you smacked your head with a hand, "That's what I was forgetting! It's my birthday today!"
Blind rage overtook the Eldritch horror as he slammed the scrapbook onto the table before grabbing you by the front of your shirt and lifting you up, legs dangling several inches off of the floor. You frantically grabbed onto his fist currently bunching up the fabric of your shirt in his grip, whipping your head around to seek help from Flug or Demencia or even 5.0.5. You caught sight of 5.05. following Flug as he dragged an unconscious Demenica out of the room, none of them paying attention to the current blunder you were in.
Huh, maybe you were a tad bit too heavy-handed on the arsenic.
"Wh- why are you angry with me?" you questioned, holding back tears, thoroughly confused.
Why? Why was he angry with you? He had half the mind to throw you across the room. Were you that dense?
"You are an absolute moron, forgetting your own birthday while parading around and doing all of this useless nonsense for me. For me, someone who doesn't even give a shit about you. Calling me a friend and giving me heartfelt gifts, throwing a party; it makes me sick. And all for me, for me, for me..." his chest was heaving at this point, steam fizzing out as he continued, until his last word was barely a mumble.
You glanced up at his perturbed expression, taking note of the way green saliva collected at the sides of his sharp teeth, practically foaming at the mouth. You cleared your throat.
"So, did you like the party?" you asked meekly, pressing two fingers together in an anxious manner.
He sighed, a great, heavy and resigned sound reverberating throughout the room like a church bell. This was the part he had been waiting for, prepared to relish in your disappointment and despair when he told you just how horribly you had done. He looked into your eyes, noting the eagerness and anticipation sparkling in them. They were exactly the same as the first day he had met you, when you had shook his hand and stupidly sold your soul to him. He was your idol, although he hadn't the faintest clue why you adored him so much. This whole ordeal made him awfully tired, mentally drained and ready for it all to end. He didn't quite have the energy to torment you right now, he realized. He could always do it later; he had all the time in the world, after all.
"It was..." he began, trying to gather his scattered thoughts, "It was... adequate. I commend you on your perseverance, and I'm rather surprised you didn't die from wasp bites." He cleared his throat, voice barely audible as he mumbled, "You did well."
He wasn't expecting you to reach out and hug him, most definitely not expecting that. You snuggled your face into his chest, surprised at how cold he was, his body giving off almost no heat at all.
"Thank you," he heard you whisper against him, words muffled from the cloth of his shirt. You were rather warm, pleasantly soft, too, he thought idly for a second. He took in the movement, absorbed it, mentally cataloging it under the file in his brain labeled "Fuel for the Hate Burning in my Soul."
Then, he unceremoniously tore you off of his body like a used bandaid and tossed you to the floor. You landed on your butt with a small yelp, looking up at him with a dumb smile. Oh, how he wanted to wipe it off of you.
"Don't mention it. And I mean that. You'll be one short of a tongue if I hear any of this catch wind. I'll be in my office, so get back to work. I don't pay you to throw confetti around; I pay you to clean and to file documents," he stated harshly, back turned to you as he walked towards the door, your scrapbook somehow now nestled in the crook of his left arm.
"W-wait, you don't want to stay and play any party games? At least try the cake!" you exclaimed lightly from your place on the floor, watching as his tall figure stopped at the exit to the parlor.
"I will expect a slice on my desk in exactly an hour, so don't forget," he replied simply, opening the door.
He fished something out of his pocket, throwing it behind him where it landed in a graceful arc at your lap.
"Happy Birthday, you fool," was the last thing he uttered before slamming the door behind him, gone.
You lifted the object from your lap. It was a stopwatch, the intricately designed gold one that he constantly carried around with him. You especially liked this particular watch, whether it be because of the pretty pattern it had, or because it was especially shiny, or because you knew that Black Hat constantly used it, because if you pressed it against your face you could almost swear that it even smelled like him. You smiled, grasping to the little object tightly.
This was the best birthday present you had ever received.