The Other Side of the Mask

By Alan M. Atkinson

Supervillains fight superheroes and are (usually) defeated. But why? What are their motivations? Herein are three short stories, each about the supervillain condition.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alan M. Atkinson
• Release date: Oct 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463354032

Alan M. Atkinson

Alan Michael Atkinson is from Australia. He grew up on a remote North Queensland cattle property and attended boarding school for his higher education. Now living in town, he has been by turns a Chinese food delivery driver, a taxi driver and a security guard. He likes to read, and plays tabletop roleplaying games when he can.He's met both Felicia Day (Buffy, Dollhouse, Dr Horrible's Sing-Along Blog) and Nathan Fillion (Firefly, Castle, Dr Horrible's Sing-Along Blog), and has the photos to prove it.Welcome to Utopia is his first novel.

Book preview

The Other Side of the Mask

Have you ever wondered what it is with supervillains? Why they do what they do? What, indeed, are their motivations?

This may not answer your questions, but it should provide some entertainment.

Contents

The Matter with Minions

Number Two

Opposites Attract

The Matter with Minions

Contents

I looked up as they wrestled her into my study. It took three of my minions to do so, which was fairly impressive, given that any one of the three was more than a match for her in weight, and presumably strength as well. Her hands were tied behind her, and she had a gag tied around her mouth—for what reason, I had no idea—but she was still holding her own. Her foot-stomps and knee-gouges were also rather impressive, and I made a mental note to never be caught within kicking distance of her.

Which just left the other problem.

They shoved her to the ground before my desk; I looked at her over my reading glasses, then at my minions. What, I inquired, is the meaning of this?

The head of my minions, a weasel of a man who was always sniveling and attempting to ingratiate himself with me, no matter how much I asked him not to, approached the desk. We brought her for you, Master, he explained.

I sighed. A simple ‘sir’ would have sufficed, but he insisted on calling me ‘Master’. "You … brought her to me?"

He nodded eagerly. Yes, Master. You were speaking about finding a way to neutralize the Watchman, and so … He gestured at the young woman, who by now was kneeling on my rug, glaring at me over her gag. I hoped that she appreciated the fact that the thick pile was the only reason that she did not now have skinned knees. But still …

Removing my glasses, I massaged my temples. Then I replaced them and looked at her again.

Female, check. Early to mid twenties, check. Striking appearance, check. Impressively heaving bosom, check.

They couldn’t have been more complete if they’d been following a list.

Remove her gag, I ordered.

The minion standing closest to her made a who, me? gesture. I nodded briefly. Yes, you. Idiot.

Uh, Master, she, uh bites, he protested.

Well, that explained the