Perfect Villain Novels & Stories

“To dumb it down, everyone hates you so much. They would rather gush out their eyes than see you win this game." The system's voice was steady, calm, void of emotions, but to Melissa it felt a sharp iron rod to her chest. She knew she was hated, but for them to be willing to inflict pain on themselves just as not to see her victorious was just psychopathic. “As for your second question, why do you have to be the villain?" the system continued casually as though reading the weather. “Because being evil suits you, besides you had one of those most gruesome betrayals in your past life, so I am certain you can channel just enough anger to make this game the hottest thing on national television."

“Why would he wrap me in the blanket? Did he take off my clothes because they were wet? He isn’t a saint. The villain can’t feel anything good. Savina! Stop acting like a moron. He is a psychopath.” “...” Dante hadn’t expected to hear that either. He didn’t do many good deeds, but he was called a villain by the woman he had saved. It was nothing new. People usually blamed him for things he didn’t do. So, he started doing everything they had expected of him.

His every touch burns me and leaves me thinking maybe he’s right which only makes me hate him with every fibre of my being. But he forgot that I made a promise too. The day he locked me in his cage I promised him that I’d make him beg on his knees and at the end of this nightmare I’d wake up with a smile on my face. ANTONIO Ruthless. Monster. I am the monster nightmares are made of. The part of me that was human died a long time ago and now I live for vengeance and blood of my enemy. My name is enough to bring my enemies to their knees. I’m the real villain walking among the innocents. There’s nothing and no-one that would stop me from getting the blood that I was owed.

The Villain People might describe me as abrasive. Of course, I don't agree. I simply show little concern for the feelings of others because I don't give a shit about your problems when I have my own. If that's abrasive well fuck, I'm abrasive. But I'm not like that all the time. It's people like Morrison and his balls-scratching heathens you call football players that bring out the worst in a girl like me.

There was no need for him to add his brand new wife to the list. She needed to focus. This man was a villain. He had been the head of a notorious ring of aristocrats that had treated commoners like garbage. She had researched him and his family, she knew all about their crimes. He had only turned everyone in to save his own skin. He wouldn’t trick her. She would watch him. She was sure that he would go back to his old ways, and when that happened she would promptly turn him in. She was sure the king would annul their marriage when that happened.

Tears streamed down her face as she cursed her self for being unfortunate, after hours of sitting by herself, after hours of pouring out all her tears she had, she just layed their unable to fall asleep. Her conscience judged her greatly so much that she couldn't even fall asleep, she knew that if her mother was alive, her mother would never support her in killing her own best friend. That instance, her mother's words rang into her ears, "by cutting off the head is never the solution to an headache" "Why me?" She sobbed quietly, her whole life had no meaning at all, she saw her self as a villain, a villain with no life at all. She took a useless game too far, even though she became the winne

I tell her, thinking of tiny Heather’s big eyes focused on me when she’d think about it, knowing I’d have all the right answers. The witch’s head tilts, “What would you tell her?” She asks, and I smile looking over at the multicolored skies as the sun starts to set. “I’d tell her she was right, but also wrong. I’d say it’s not the things the villain does per say that makes them the villain. It’s the inability to empathize with their opponents point of view. Their inability to know right from wrong. Two wrongs don’t make a right.” I tell her, and she ticks her tongue. “Do you still feel that way?”

"You don't know the half of the things I've done. I'm an ex-assassin. I'm not just bad, I'm horrible. Red knows it too. That's why he broke up with me" "He doesn't hate you, I know that. Why else would you still be here?" I said, folding my arms. She scoffed. "I'm not a very happy person. I thought I could make new friends but Dahlia already hates me. No matter how much I try to be good, I'm just never good enough. I tried to start a conversation with Dahlia and I messed it up. I don't know.... I guess, being the villain suits me better" . "You don't know that" I said.

Alessandro’s dealth. Amara’s suffering. And I would walk away untouched. Because the best villains never dirty their hands. They just make sure everyone else does.

“Do they think I don’t see it? Every story, every post, every news segment, they’re glorifying him and mocking us. Me!” Robert sighed, his normally commanding voice now strained. “Victor, listen. The facts are...” “I don’t care about your facts!” Victor shouted, pacing the room, boots echoing on the marble floor. “The world will see him as perfect. As clever. As untouchable. And me? The golden wolf? The one who bled for this family? I am the villain! The world sees me as a tyrant, a monster! And all because of him!” Robert sighed heavily on the phone , trying to maintain authority, but even he knew Victor had slipped into something darker, something uncontrollable.