Villain's Story by Alisa Yunes

The room was quiet,

except for the soft crackling of a dying fire. I stood in the centre, the light of the chandelier casting long shadows across the bloodstained marble floor. My enemies were gone, their last breaths fading into silence. I had won. But instead of feeling joy, I felt heavy, as if something was missing.

Victory was supposed to feel good. It was supposed to bring relief. But instead, it felt like reaching the end of a long story, only to realize I didn’t know what came next. For so long, the fight had been my purpose. Now that it was over, I was left with only my thoughts.

I walked toward the throne—the symbol of everything I had fought against. Its gold edges, rich velvet, and royal crest had once been a reminder of my suffering, a sign of power that had crushed people like me for generations. Now, it was mine.

Slowly, I sat down. The seat was warm—too warm. The ruler who had just sat here now lay lifeless at my feet. Their crowns had fallen, resting in a pool of their blood. I stared at it, my fingers twitching. I had spent my whole life trying to take that crown, but now that it was right in front of me, I hesitated.

Was I any better than them? Had I truly brought justice, or had I become the very thing I once hated? I had told myself I was saving the people, that I was tearing down a cruel kingdom to build something better. But as I looked around at the ruins of what once stood, I wondered if those who survived would see me as their saviour—or their new tyrant.

A bitter smile crossed my face. It didn’t matter. History would tell the story in its own way. The dead could not speak. The living would either obey or be swept away like the rest.

I leaned back in the throne and let out a slow breath. "So this is what victory feels like."

And for the first time in my life, I felt truly alone.