Villains Are Made

Villains Are Made

Apollo Godwin

"You shouldn't have come," my brother says as I approach, not trying to hide the sound of my boots mucking their way across the rain-soaked ground.

Ares Godwin stands where I expect to find him. He's stoically planted with his hands in his pockets on the edge of the cliff overlooking the Salish Sea. Olympus Manor—our family estate—to his left, and the tree of forgiveness to his right.

He doesn't turn to face me, but keeps his eyes focused on the water crashing into and over the rocks below. "Does the family think I'm going to skip out on bail and leave the country? Is that why they sent you?"

I huff as I stand next to him, mimicking his stance. "Hardly. And they didn't send me. You should know better than that."

Through the corner of my eye, I see the side of Ares's mouth lift in a smirk. "Scared I'd jump to my death then?"

"I wouldn't blame you."

"But you knew I wouldn't."

He's right. I know he won't. He's a Godwin. Godwins don't give up.

We are gods who walk the earth. We are the monsters, the beasts, the villains in the story. We are the vipers who strike our enemies when they least expect it. The Godwin family wields the mighty thunderbolt like Zeus, and yet… somehow the powerful have fallen.

There is a chip in our shield. A crack in our protection. We are vulnerable now, and for the first time in my life, I see my family is human. Flawed. Even weak. Everything has changed.

My brother—my identical twin brother—is going to jail for the rest of his life for murder.

"But you were an asshole for taking the helicopter by yourself. I had to travel here by boat like a true savage," I say, trying to cut through the thickness of the air with jest.

The island of Heathens Hollow, hidden in the fog of the Puget Sound, beckoned to my brother in his last hours of freedom, and I can completely understand the pull. I knew he'd come, and regardless of how far I had to travel, I'd always be here by his side.

He sighs. "Part of me wishes they'd insist on the death penalty. I think that's far less severe than having to live in a cage for the rest of my life. Hard to imagine I'm never going to see this view again."

I turn my head and look at the old willow tree that has stood on the edge of this cliff for centuries. "Have you asked the tree for forgiveness yet?"

Ares chuckles. "I'm not in the mood to whip myself or kneel on rice hours before sentencing, thank you very much." He shifts his weight, releases a deep breath. "What I've done, even that tree can't forgive."

The tree of forgiveness… The bane of my siblings' and my existence. Both our parents forced us to come to this tree to punish ourselves whenever we did anything wrong. They didn't believe it was their duty to teach us the lesson; rather it was our job to search our inner selves to find the lesson and learn from it ourselves.

I walk over to the leather strap still hanging from the lower branch. "Maybe I should be the one to whip myself." I look over my shoulder at Ares. "I should be the one going to jail today. Not you."

"Stop," he snaps. "We've had this conversation over and over, and I'm sick of it."

"You didn't kill that man. I did." There's a part of me that wants to throw myself off the cliff just so I don't have to live with this guilt any longer. "I can't let you take the fall for me. I don't care what you, Athena, or our father says. I can't."

"I'm not going to jail because of you," Ares adds, his attention going back to the sea. "I'm going to jail because my sins caught up with me."

"You've sacrificed your entire life for this family. There isn't anything you wouldn't do for them. But you don't have to for me. I'm not asking you to."

"Listen to me," he says with a voice of fire as he storms toward me. "I'm going to say this one last time so we can put this topic to rest. I'm not taking the fall for you. When they first thought I killed that man, they got my DNA. They were able to trace me back to all the murders I did do in the past. I'm going to jail for all those hits, regardless. Not just the single one you did. There is no reason for you and me to both go to jail. It's inevitable I'm going down. You don't need to." He shrugs. "I couldn't be the family hit man and not expect to get caught, eventually."

"You can tell me this until you're blue in the face, but if I hadn't killed that man at Medusa Enterprises—in the goddamn boardroom—you'd never have been arrested. It's because of me you got caught. I was the reckless one."

"No, it's because someone was setting you up. Someone took video of that incident and went to the authorities with it. You had no way of knowing you weren't safe in our building. You had no way of knowing. If anyone is to blame, it's Medusa security. Footage of you killing someone should have never gotten out the front door. Our family business, our family empire, should have been impenetrable." He clears the distance between us and places a hand on my shoulder. "This isn't on you."

Ares looks over his shoulder at Olympus Manor, and my eyes follow. There is slight movement from the curtain that hangs from the attic window. I smile knowing the manor's ghost is watching two brothers discuss life and death matters. I wouldn't expect anything else. This island is full of ghosts. They are the backbone of Heathens Hollow. It's almost as if the dead rule over all of us.

However, hundreds of people live and do work on the island and have for centuries. But the Godwin family still owns Heathens Hollow. The land is ours and the people merely lease it. The Godwins have owned this island since the Victorian era. It's a fishing town, just under four hours from Seattle, that houses the rich, the middle class, the poor, and then the Eastsiders. The people who live on the Eastside of the island don't even have enough to be considered poor.

Though the island is so close to such a big and thriving city, the fact that it remains cloaked in hazy fog for most of the year keeps it somewhat of a secret. Rarely do people speak of this secretive place. Tales are told, but reality is never known. The truth of what happens on this island is… murky. The only way to reach the island is by sea or air, and the isolation only adds to the hidden shadows of this place. It's dark, dank, gloomy, and even after a rain, a rainbow never forms. This island is not for the fragile or for the man who can't endure a harsh storm. The full-timers are weathered, cut to the bone, and if someone really wants to know Heathens Hollow, all they have to do is look into the eyes of one of the old fishermen who work the boats at the harbor. Everything you want to know is expressed.

And then there are the wealthy. Not Godwin family wealthy. No one can match us. But there are the second vacation homes, the mansions only visited when the occupants want to swim in dark seclusion. There are still parties fueled by fame, liquor, and sex, but on this island the pace is often slower. The heartbeat of the Pacific northwestern island pauses, beats loudly, then pauses again.

Heathens Hollow is the island of gods and monsters. Innocence is drowned early in life by the crashing waves. Heathens Hollow is… home. Though we live and run our family empire—Medusa Enterprises—from Seattle, Heathens Hollow will forever be our resting ground.

Olympus Manor has served as a beacon, a legacy, a symbol of our family lineage. Though we all have houses in Seattle, this is most definitely our family home. Our ancestors haunt the hallways of the house, they wander the grounds, and they stand over us in protection, even now.

"Remember when we were kids, and we'd stand here on the cliff and howl like we were wolves?" Ares says, clearly reflecting on his past in his last hours of freedom.

"Father hated that," I say as I see the vision like it was yesterday. "He hated when we acted feral."

"He hated a lot about us. We weren't allowed to be kids."

"We were Godwins. The expectations were?—"

"Unrealistic. Always have been," Ares interrupts.

"You know there still may be a chance Father gets you out of this," I say. "Troy Godwin never loses."

Ares smirks. "Maybe. But doubtful. I think the inevitable is pretty set in stone on this one." He looks down at my left hand and notices what's missing. "Where's your wedding ring?"

I run my thumb over the bare skin of my wedding finger. "It's complicated."

"Simplify it for me. What's going on with you and Daphne?" he asks. "I've been so wrapped up in my own shit that I clearly didn't get the memo."

"No memo… Things are just shit between us," I confess. "We both want out. A divorce."

"But you know you can't," he finishes for me.

"Godwins don't divorce," I parrot the words of my father. "But we're both tired of living this lie. We don't love each other, and I don't think we ever did. I married her so I'd have arm candy at events, and it felt like what society wanted. She married for money. It was essentially an arranged marriage. We want to sever the agreement but can't."

He points to my hand. "Taking the ring off makes you feel better?"

"It felt like it was scorching my finger," I admit. "But we aren't here to discuss my lame issues. A shitty marriage is nothing compared to what we need to face today."

"Still… I'm sorry, man. I thought Daphne was one of the good ones."

"She is," I confess, not wanting to bash someone who truly has a good heart. "I don't hate her. I just don't love her. And she feels the same."

"That sucks. I hope you can figure it out. Because as you said, Godwins don't get divorced."

Hating how the helpless feeling of our fucked-up lives threatens to suffocate me, I take a step back and examine my brother's appearance and the fact that he's only wearing casual slacks and a black T-shirt. "Tell me you aren't wearing that to court."

Ares looks down at his clothing. "Who cares what I wear. I'll be in an orange jumpsuit soon enough."

"Unless Father somehow works his magic." I loosen my tie and pull it over my head. "In which case, you need to look good. Here, we're going to switch outfits."

Ares and I, though twins, couldn't be more different. He's the ruthless hitman in the family. The rebel, the dark and mysterious. I, on the other hand, am the chief financial officer of Medusa. Strait-laced, always in a suit, and never a hair out of place. Numbers are my life, and money makes my dick hard. Ares is the brother who cleans up the messes, even though he's dirtier than all of us combined. We were both born and groomed for these roles. Our father had a master plan for this family, and we are merely soldiers in his war of domination.

The one time I stepped out of our roles and killed someone before Ares had a chance, our empire fell to the ground. I'm the reason for the demise. I should have kept to the numbers.

"I'm not wearing your clothes," Ares says, shaking his head, but smiling at the idea.

"Yes, you are. Because we're going to take that chopper back to Seattle, and the minute we land, the press is going to be surrounding us and focused on you. You need to look like a Godwin. Power. Prestige. You are not a broken man. We rise above." I hand him my tie and then take off my suit jacket. "Strip."

When he takes my coat from me, he notices the extra weight and reaches into the pocket. Pulling out my passport, wallet with my ID, and a large wad of cash, he shakes his head and says, "I'm not leaving the country. I'm not going to run. It will destroy our family and Medusa, and you know it."

I continue undressing, ignoring his words.

"I'm not leaving," he repeats. "Medusa is powerful, but it won't survive the shitstorm me being on the run will cause. As it is, you guys are going to have your hands full trying to pick up the pieces by having a serial killer in the family. I don't need to keep the wound open by being on the run. Plus," he adds, "none of you need the Feds breathing down your throats. We don't want Athena sharing a cell with me, and you and I both know that she's damn close to being there."

When I'm standing in nothing but my underwear, I finally say, "I had a feeling you'd say that. But I had to try." I point to him. "Get undressed, fucker. I'm cold."

"Fine," he says. "But we're going back to Seattle. I'm going to face this head on."

I sigh deeply and give a clipped nod. "I still have faith we'll figure a way out of this."

"I love you, brother," Ares says to me. It's uncharacteristic for him to be so…sensitive, but then again, his life's about to end.

"I love you." I point to the tie that he's ignoring. "You're a Godwin."

"What does that mean? Have you ever asked yourself that?" he asks as he does what I say and places my tie around his neck.

"I think you're about to show us."

"We need to head back to Seattle," Ares says, inhaling deeply. He's taking in the last of Heathens Hollow into his lungs.

I look to Olympus Manor as we slog through the mud to the chopper. "Do you want to go in and say goodbye?"

"I already did. Frankly, that house may be more of a prison than the one I'm going to."

Ready for more of the Godwin family?

Villains Are Madeis next.