Darkness hangs around me, slithering into every crack and down my throat, permeating through me until every breath sounds too loud. There is something about being alone in your room in the dead of night. It is as if you are the only person in the world, with stillness heightening the loudness of your thoughts.

I am all too aware of how dangerous this is. How wrong this could go. Maybe there's a camera in this room I don't know about. Maybe David—who's taking the night watch—will decide to randomly check on me. Maybe I'll trigger an alarm. If I mess up, if someone sees me, it's all over.

But I don't care. At least, that's what I tell myself.

I need answers. I need to know what Cyclone was talking about. I need to know what actually went down the day I became the top villain. I need to know just who I am and where I stand. I've always needed to, but now the need is stronger. Louder. More desperate.

The bug I put in the heroes' system has access to answers. Not all, but enough. It has to be enough. I stare at my laptop's screen, the light burning my gritty eyes, reading through the bug section in Lists.txt over once more. It's simple—almost suspiciously so.

Activate the bug. Give the correct password. Let it do its thing, then, voila, I have access to the heroes' database. Simple. Easy. And yet, I hesitate.

Once I activate it, there's no going back. It's not just because the bug will self-destruct once I am done, but because once I use it, I will have officially acted against the heroes. Sure, I've done it before, but this will be the first time I remember doing it.

Do I dare? What if they patched the hole? What if activating it triggers something and they find it? What if I am caught? Are the risks worth it? Am I willing to lose everything?

Hot air fans my face as I blow it out, closing my eyes and reaching past the static for answers. I didn't activate the bug earlier because there was a chance something else less dangerous could tell me and that...I still thought I had a chance at life. At something worthwhile.

But now...the heroes are too close. It's only a matter of time before one of them realizes I've duped them all and turns on me. It's all a mess. And what do I have? Questions. Pieces of truth or lies—I can't tell. Memories of days that I'll never experience again, if the auto-played message is to be believed.

It's not much—not enough to outweigh the risk. It's do or die and the only thing I have to lose is myself—whoever that is.

I open my eyes and start typing. Windows of code pop off my screen, running through commands I don't recognize, then merges into one holo-pop-off with the question, what is your name? in bold.

Checking my note, I type in E. LL. The pop off goes blank for a beat. ACTIVATED. It expands, hovering over my laptop's screen, and opens to the heroes' database search function.

I am in. I...did it. I am in! A breathless smile tugs at the corner of my lips, twitching to the time of my pounding heart. Stretching my fingers, I begin typing Blank Slate into the search bar. Before I can finish, my fingers slow to a stop, hesitate, then delete it and type out Deception.

The interface shifts, rearranging words and sections into Deception's file. The first thing that renders is a startlingly clear picture of a black-haired girl looking over her shoulder with a scowl, streetlights flashing off her smooth, scaled jacket as she runs away from the camera.

My breath catches in my throat. Her eyes are vivid amethyst. Something purple stirs inside of me and my gaze falls on her lips. They're purple too, though they are a rich, royal velvet that doesn't stand out as much as her eyes against her pale skin. It's her. It's the girl.

Suspicion seizes my breath, shaking away the purple in my mind. Quickly, I scroll down to the power section with bated breath.

Power: Estimated 7. Believed to have some sort of mind control due to the unwavering and unnatural sense of loyalty her subordinates have.

Ice washes over me, stinging like a waterfall of needles. Mind control. Mind. Control. Mind control! Is that what the purple is? Is that why I turned to the dark side when my life seemed so good?

You don't know where your family is, nor do you care. They never wanted you anyways. No, there seems to be some other reason for that. Maybe. Is anything I know to be true right? If she could mind control me... Skin prickling, I scroll to the top and skim through, each new piece of information a mallet to my ribs.

Deception is the crime lord and number one in her city-region with her influence almost covering it all, reigning with cruel efficiency and an iron fist. She is known to kidnap heroes and turn them to her side.

You are trying to make yourself known to Deception so you can meet her again. She will accept you in every way.

When she strikes, she or her subordinates leave behind small papers with the image of a viper mid-strike, fangs bared and venom drops flying off of them.

On my inner wrist is a startlingly realistic tattoo of a viper coiled around a nine of spades, its mouth open wide and fangs dripping venom.

Deception goes by many names: Viper, Night Teeth, Midnight Doom, Fanged, and Royal, and her subordinates are often named after her. Her enemies have never survived more than a year once on her hit list.

"Who did you think you were, Viper-pleaser, stealing my place like that? Are you a fool to think you could escape me forever?"

And, the most chilling of all at the very bottom: We suspect Deception to be Fusicha, one of Ten School AD349's missing students who disappeared with her classmate and alleged boyfriend, Cyber, after a car accident. More information here: AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED.

My Ten School name was Cyber.

All the breath whooshes out of me and I fall back against my pillows, staring up at the dark ceiling. There's no denying it. The girl in my memories is Deception. And there is a high likelihood she mind controlled me to be...a villain. Like her.

Static buzzes in my ears, filling my chest and swelling in my throat. I press the heels of my palms to my eyes, clenching my teeth together with a hiss. If she controlled me...then am I really evil? Does it work like that? Was I a willing participant or only an absent-minded one?

My mind drifts back to our first meeting. I seemed...out of it, slightly, but I was still there. I still agreed. Does that mean I really did love her? A shiver bristles the hair along my arms and ice pools in my fingertips.

So...am I evil?

A part of me wants to believe that I am not. It wiggles under the static, pushing against the pounding of my heart and the frayed edges of my nerves. You are not evil, it says. You are not evil. You are not evil.

But am I? The other part of me, the larger part, is sick with dread. It can't be that simple. It can't be just some big misfortune—something that isn't all not my fault. It can't be because somewhere shifting under my skin, somewhere embedded under my nails, is blood. Crime. Evil.

I don't trust the heroes. I don't like them—except for maybe David—and I— I don't care, really, about rules and laws and being 'good'. I just want to survive and find out who I am and what I'll do with my life. And perhaps...that is a sign of evil. Perhaps it's proof that I am a villain at heart. Perhaps it's true that I was a willing participant in whatever Deception and I did.

You are not evil, the small part of me whispers. But am I? The larger part of me sickens with more dread, gulping it down and letting it permeate through me like radioactive waste.

Senses tingling, I lean forwards and search my name. The hologram blurs, scrambles, and clears and I am staring at a picture of a blank oval with two smaller ovals for eyes and a simple curve for a mouth. A beanie sits atop the oval and a human body dressed in blank white top and deep navy bottom sits below it.

It's me. Or, well, villain me. My face is tilted up towards the camera, a sly smirk on my full-face holomask, and my hands form a mocking salute. Obviously, I knew my picture was being taken. Obviously, I wasn't afraid of the heroes at all.

Or maybe, I was afraid. Maybe it was all a façade of confidence—a lie in plain sight—to hide rotting evil. Maybe I was lying to everyone, even myself. But what if it wasn't? What if I wasn't afraid because I knew who I was and what I was doing? What if I knew I was a villain and liked it?

Am I evil?

I drag my eyes away from the picture and flick them down the rest of my file. The dread turns to horror, filling my veins with thick, unyielding sludge, constricting my heart with each beat. Crime after crime after horrible crime is listed under my name with even more unconfirmed but suspected to be mine in a section of its own.

It's not as long as Deception's, but it's more than enough for me. Bank robberies—millions stolen—shop raids, armed break-ins, museum thefts, kidnappings for ransom, multiple attacks on heroes, preventing hero rescues, spreading conspiracy theories through hacked news channels, and finally, attacking and subduing Vulpine, taking down the hero headquarters, and killing twelve people in the process. It's all there. It's all under my name.

I did it. Willingly? I...I don't want to think so, but I have to. Most of these are marked within this year—presumably when Deception was not with me. She had to leave me sometime for me to add You are trying to make yourself known to Deception so you can meet her again. I did these on my own volition to 'get her attention.' I hurt people for my own gain.

Am I evil?

The question echoes over a drum beat of you are not evil, reverberating through the static. I want to believe I am not. I really want to because if I am not, there's a chance for me. A chance at a life away from villains and heroes where I don't have to look over my shoulder all the time. A chance to return to the life of smiles and light my younger self had.

But to believe I am not evil is to willingly embrace a lie. Deception may have mind controlled me into becoming a villain, but some part of me wanted and agreed with her. I must have. I chose to be her exception that day, not just because of her power's influence, but because I wanted it. I chose it. I know it in my bones.

And when she was not with me, I chose to do all those crimes to get her attention. I am evil. I am a villain. I am not a clean slate. An ache opens up inside of me, swallowing up the dread and leaving behind a hollow emptiness. In that hollowness, a memory emerges.

Wait for me, the note says. And remember, we are not evil. - D. I set the note down on the rough, half-broken table, a sigh rustling the thick dust covering the wood. Flicking a pen out of my pocket, I turn the note over and add another mark to the line of tally marks.

Three months. How long do I have to wait for her? Shoving away from the table, I glance around at the small and dingy room. Dust covers the cot in the corner, undisturbed, and my stash is still safely hidden in the nook behind it. No one but me has been here.

Another sigh, this one tinged with annoyance, puffs into the air. I'll wait for you. Just...hurry up already and get your butt over here. I miss you. Shaking my head, I grab my hoverboard from where it leans against the wall and hoist myself out the window. Midair, I turn the hoverboard on and place it under my feet. With a whoosh, I am off, whizzing around two abandoned towers scraping the sky like fork prawns, and under the rickety old bridge on High-Five St.

Maybe if I make a splash, she'll come sooner.

The memory fades, dispersing into a vague shape in the static. High-Five Street? Frowning, I scroll down to the bottom of the file. There, written in bold under UNCONFIRMED HIDEOUTS, is the same street. Leaning forwards, I read through the directions, matching it as best I can to my vague memory. I...I think I can get to it.

Should I? I glance to my bedroom door which remains closed. I've considered running away before in the two days after Cyclone's attack and settling into the safe house, but I've always discarded it because I have nowhere to run to. But now...there's nothing holding me back. A flash of David's grin and kind gestures flicker past my eyes and I frown. Nothing, I tell myself. Nothing holding me back. Not even him.

Setting aside my computer, I climb out of bed and kneel beside it, dragging out the box I hid under it. With a flick of my wrist, the box falls open and I pull out a blank oval, my holomask. It's smooth and cool under my fingers and light as an insect.

I lift it up to the light my screen gives off, watching the holographic screen overlay the oval's shimmer. It's Blank Slate's mask. My mask. I run my finger around the rim, two strings tangling and twisting together inside of me. Which side will you choose? the mask seems to whisper. If you choose now, you won't have to keep struggling with every decision.

Yes...if I choose, there would be no need for all these questions. At least, not all of them. My finger stills, hesitation pulling taut in my chest. All this evidence points to me being a villain. Evil. I...might as well accept that.

I flip a coin in my mind and it lands on heads. With a glance over my shoulder at the door, I settle the mask over my face. I am done drowning myself in lies. I am done being Denizen, the innocent victim. It's better if I cut ties now and leave.

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Since this is a very important chapter to the story, I'd like to check in with ya'll. What are your opinions/theories so far? Go ahead and be honest; I want to here what you think of it so far, good or bad!