Honestly, I was expecting a greater reaction. Some tears and resistance, maybe even a little bargaining. Indifference though? The kid looked bored. He just sat there, arms and legs bound to the chair in front of me. He couldn’t have been more than nine or ten years old, yet he didn’t seem phased by the fact that I had just kidnapped him. I supposed it didn’t matter. Rule #689 of the Memorable Evil Archnemesis Handbook states, “The demeanor of the kidnapped holds less importance than the strength of the relationship between the victim and the Hero. Even if the victim is downright joyful to be in your presence, NEVER FEAR, for the Hero will care for them and inevitably fall into a sinister trap of your own machinations during a rescue attempt”. I turned from the kid, resolving myself. He didn’t want to play scared? Fine by me. His father was the one I was after and he would, most certainly, be terrified.  

“Once your father arrives,” I declared, facing the dripping cave walls, “I’m sure I can be persuaded to let you have some sort of reunion before I bring your little family to an end.” 

An exasperated sigh was his only answer. I cleared my throat. The damp cave seemed to swelter suddenly.  

“No matter,” I continued, finally turning to face him, “I can see that your silence is all an act, a façade of bravery. Son of Power-Man, you will be the key to finally bringing the hero of Tri-City into my–”  

“Ugh.” I stopped, my mouth open. Truly, this child had no idea what kind of trouble he was in. To interrupt me during my monologue? I chuckled, approaching the chair that held my captive. Gingerly, I placed my hands on his shoulders and leaned in close,  

“I’m sorry, did you have something to share with me?”  

“Eat shit and die.”  

I recoiled, sending my sleek, black cape billowing behind me. This was ridiculous, even for a child. The language? Unacceptable. Apparently, being the brat of the city’s best super-hero meant that discipline was nonexistent.  

“Excuse me? Do not speak to me in that manner!” At this, the child smiled.  

“Or what?” He asked, cocking his blond head to the side, “You gonna kill me, old man?”