So, considering I'm obsessed with Descendants, I've decided to write another story. This time, however, I'm doing something different. Things that happened in both the book and movie will be tweaked a lot. These kids are not the nice-kind of villains they were in the movie, they're evil.

This story is dark, remember that. It has triggers, death, violence, blood, etc.

Oh, and sex. Both straight and gay sex. But for this chapter, you'll have to deal with language, a mental image of Cruella de Vil naked, Jay stripping, and roof parkour. So... yeah. Enjoy.

They've never met anyone good. They've never even tried. They were bad. Evil. Rotten.

Their hearts were as black as coal, and their battle scars proved how much they could handle; how much they could survive. Villains were all they knew, evil was all they knew how to be. The descendants of some of the most notorious, bloodthirsty, and spine-chilling villains all around. They were the rotten four: the children of Maleficent, Jafar, Evil Queen, and Cruella de Vil. They were feared. And they loved it.

Stone-cold faces, and a colorful disarray of dark colors and dirty clothes. They revealed themselves to the common folk of the Isle, smirks casting fear all around, glaring at each individual that dared glance back. The purple one was in the front, her smirk the most malicious of them all... Her eyes glowed green, and her tendrils of lilac locks swooshed back and forth, framing her killer-cheekbones.

She, the baddest of them all, was the dear daughter of Maleficent. She, the baddest of them all, was the daughter of the Mistress of All Evil. She, the baddest of them all, was the progeny of the one who could control all the powers of Hell.

The daughter of a once-fierce dragon.

She, the baddest of them all, was none other than Mal.

Her "partners in crime," as she liked to call them, were Evie, Jay, and Carlos.

Evie strutted behind the shorter, more menacing, purple-haired girl; her hips swayed left and right, with her hands splayed and holding on tight. She pumped out her chest, watching as bystanders gawked at the femme fatale; a walking goddess in the eyes of other villains. She knew full well how many dreams she inhabited at night, and how many head-turns she attracted. She was the daughter of Evil Queen, who's price possession happened to be a busted-mirror.

Jay stomped across the uneven pavement, clenching his fists and flexing his bare muscles. He heard girls gasp, and boys groan; smirks casted each and every way. His hair bounced off his leather-bound chest, held in place by the blood-red beanie he'd stolen sometime in his prime. His eyes were like obsidian, black and shiny and cunning. He chewed the bottom of his lip, and followed the villainess's lead. He was the son of the Jafar, and he knew where he stood. He, along with his partners in crime, were at the top of the food chain. And he was lusting for some food.

Carlos brung up the back, bound head-to-toe in black and white, with mixes of red that may or may not qualify as blood stains. His dark roots faded to a snowy-white, and his eyes glowed with the almost innocent look a child would have. But there was nothing innocent about him. He was dripping with untapped evil, as the rest of them, too. If anything, he'd be the most maniacal of the four. No one knows what's exactly going on in his head. And he liked it that way. He was the son of the infamous, fur-fetish phenom that once ran a multi-million dollar company, Cruella de Vil.

The four of them reigned terror through the alleyways of the slum-like houses and shantytowns that they called home, they scared every living soul that walked down the streets, giving a new meaning to the words: "Rotten children."

They terrified everyone, except the ones that brought them into this cruel world. They hated their parents, almost as much as their parents hated them.

Love was nonexistent; love was weak, useless...

Who the fuck needed that shit? Princes and Princesses? Fairies and Dwarves?

"Well, well... What do we have here?" Mal's voice was almost as spine-chilling and heart-stopping as her mothers. She pursed her lips together, and observed the people who were blocking her path back home.

"S-s-s-so-so s-s-sorry, M-Mal," a whimpering kid stuttered. He stepped to the right, immediately locking eyes with Jay, who easily forced the small can of soup from his tiny little hands.

"S-s-s-stutter much...?"

Jay grinned at Mal's statement, and draped an arm around her shoulders. He sent daggers at the child, "B-b-beat it, kid."

They watched as his scrawny legs carried him into an alleyway, before turning their attention to the other so-called villains. The way they wore the title, calling these half-assed smelly peasants of filth "villains" seemed morally wrong. But here, morally wrong was morally right.

"Get out of our way," purred Evie, she twirled her luscious blue locks between her fingers as she batted her eyes at the strangers. "Or else."

"You better listen," Carlos snickered to them, "she's a biter."

The citizens of the Isle scattered, and the villains went back to their, well, villainous ways. Mal had a knack for design, hence why the island was basically her canvas of all-things-evil. Jay was a sly thief who stole and sold basically everything. He couldn't think of a thing he hadn't already swiped and sold for double as much as the first time he'd got his conniving hands on whatever it was. Evie did what she did best: be drop-dead stunning. She displayed herself in her handheld mirror, ignoring the cracks and missing shards that were caused by years upon years of use. Carlos did small little stunts (nothing compared to Jay's) and basically tampered with everything he managed to get his hands on. He's a mad scientist-in-the-making.

They groaned at the very end, sighing and sweating as the sweltering sun blinded them and shined it's crappy-happy rays of light down on them.

Carlos had peeled off his black and white leather jacket with red sleeves, and Mal had spared her body of the constricting heat her purple and pink and green leather jacket would have caused.

"Let's get the fuck inside already. My balls are sweating." Jay tugged at the front of his leather jeans, "Like, fucking Christ."

"Thanks for the image," spat Evie. "You're a real charmer."

"I'm no Prince Charming, but-" Jay tugged Evie alongside him as he entered Jafar's Junk Shop. Mal cut him off with a elbow jab to the gut.

"Shut up."

Carlos swallowed hard when Iago practically attacked his personal space. The constant wing-flapping and squalling of gold and coins made him want to choke the bird till his winds flapped no more. He merely swatted the flying rat away and listened to it's regretful "Ouch!" when it landed beak-first on the floor.

"I'm not spending my afternoon in your father's smelly shop." Evie brushed her ocean-blue hair off her shoulders, "Let's go on a fucking adventure. Like when we went to get your mother's staff-" she stopped when Mal glared at her.

"The same staff that nearly got us all killed at least ten times, and the same staff that could have potentially trapped you in a thousand-year sleep...?"

"Well, it was still fun."

Mal rolled her eyes, that so-called "adventure" was not fun. Sure, it's the reason they've become such close partners in crimes, and we're feared by many. Hell, she'd call that day the best and the worst day of her life.

"Imagine how much fun we could have terrorizing Auradon—the princes and princesses we'll plunder and steal from, the fairies we'll squash, the castles that we'll burn to the ground." Jay's eyes sparkled; his fist clenched and he stomped his foot. Mal returned his grin and squeezed his muscles.

"If we ever get off this floating shit-hole," she chewed eagerly on her bottom lip, "otherwise what you're imagining will always just be your imagination."

"Exactly. So instead of dreaming about destroying Auradon, we should be going on more fucking adventures. Have some fucking fun." Evie was picking at her nails, "Don't you agree, Carlos?"

The youngest partner in crime merely nodded, his fascination of the broken television sets pulling him out of their conversation.

"See, Carlos agrees."

"No one was disagreeing with you, E."

"You seemed to be," Evie eyed Maleficent's daughter, "still plagued with nightmares from our first adventure?"

Mal rolled her eyes, and averted her gaze to the taller boy, "So, what was today's best score?"

Evie and Mal waited as his hand disappeared in his pocket, and pulled out Ursula's necklace. The black silk of the string dangled from his fingers, holding a small, yellowing-shell with a spiral design.

"Ursula's necklace...?" Mal knitted her eyebrows together, "What's so valuable about that?"

"Couldn't this thing steal voices, or something?"

Jay looked at Evie, figuring she'd know more on the subject than Mal. She nodded, "But that requires magic, and-" she gestured to the dome that surrounded the island outside the dust-covered window, "we don't have any of that."

"We did for a while, though. Remember, Maleficent's staff? Carlos' box thingy that wouldn't shut up... Maybe the magic seeped into this thing, too."

Jay closed one eye and used the other to look inside the shell, seeing nothing but darkness and dust.

"So what if it did? It's meant to steal voices. That's not exactly gonna get us off this island, now is it?" Mal pressed her lips into a fine line, "But maybe we can finally use it to shut some people up."

"Like our parents," Carlos joined the conversation, pulling himself from his squatting position near the busted television sets, and found a spot between Jay and Evie.

Mal snickered, "Or, you know, everyone but us. It's not like we listen to what they say, anyway."

"I don't think this thing has enough juice for everyone but us. If it has any juice at all." Jay wrapped his hand around the shell, and started to shake it. No results (not that he was looking for any.) Evie sighed back into her seat, now resting her head on Carlos' shoulder while he tinkered with the remote he accidentally sat on.

"Well, I'm bored again."

Mal sighed after her comment, clutching the unstuffed-cushion she sat on while tapping her feet on the rotting-wood floors beneath them.

"I'm exhausted," said Evie, pulling out her mirror and running her fingers across her cheeks. She noticed her darkening eyelids and fading cheeks. She made a note to reapply in about an hour or so.

"I'm hot," Jay paused, "I mean, like, sweaty-hot. Well, I'm regular hot, too. But, I meant, like-"

"We got it," Carlos huffed. "Your sweaty and you think you're sexy."

"I don't think, I know."

Mal rolled her eyes at Jay's lame comeback. But she was too tired to make a remark about it. And really, she didn't necessarily disagree with him. Not that she'd ever tell him that.

"Well, if we're not gonna do anything, then I've gotta go back home. And I really don't want to go home." Carlos admitted, "My mother's already pissed because I tripped over one of her furs, like, two weeks ago."

"She's still pissed...?" Evie paused.

The younger nodded, "Her fur got a little dirt on it, while I nearly fell face first into that fur trap of a closet. So, yeah. She's still pissed at me."

"No offense, but your mother's a bitch."

Carlos smiled at Mal's statement, "Basically. She doesn't even realize she's calling herself one every time she calls me a 'son of a bitch.'"

"My dad calls me that, and he chuckles to himself every time because then he thinks about my mom, and well, she was apparently a bitch." Jay grinned, Ursula's necklace was still dangling from his fingers, and he had already attempted to see how far his finger could slide inside, got got up to his second knuckle before it got too tight.

Mal was grinning while she watched him, he was completely oblivious to how dirty he looked while doing it.

"I think we can all agree that Evie's the luckiest out of us when it comes to parents." Carlos gave the blue-haired girl a look, perking his lips like she did every time she gazed at herself in the mirror, "All her mother cares about is her looks."

"And how many times she gets laid a day." Jay smirked, and Evie rolled her eyes.

"Not true," she glared at the taller boy, "that's my own agenda."

Mal smirked, partner's in crime they may be, but they were more than that. They weren't friends, no one had those, they were... acquaintances. Her team of ragtags. Her minions.

She was the leader, the daughter of the dragon.

Jay was the brawn. Carlos was the brain. And Evie was the beauty.

"Okay, I've waited long enough. Let's do something! Anything, really. I don't care." Carlos has pulled himself off the ratty-old couch, and pulled on his jacket.

"Thank you," Evie huffed, "I wanna go explore more of the island."

Mal groaned and glared at the duo that was now standing before her, Jay was about to stand up alongside them. Ursula's necklace was now dangling from his neck, it didn't suit him at all. She flicked the purple-hair that barely touched her shoulders, and stood up with her partners in crime.

"I say we go to Hell Hall, since Carlos doesn't want to go there. I'm sure there's plenty of rooms and corridors in that mansion we've yet to explore." She smiled when Carlos paled.

"You're a real bitch, Mal."

She smiled, "Finally grew a pair, nice. Took you a while."

"We're not going to my house. No way-"

"Yes way!" Mal gripped his arm, "I wanna see just what the de Vil's are hiding behind all that fur."

"More fur," Jay sighed.

Carlos yanked his arm out of Mal's grip, and ran his hand through his hair. He could already feel the sweat forming on his forehead, What in Maleficent's name made me want to put this godforsaken jacket back on...?

"My mother doesn't like visitors."

"And I'm sure the visitors don't like your mother, but that doesn't stop 'em."

"Mal, please-"

She rolled her eyes and stepped closer. Her eyes stared into his, emerald-green against chocolate-brown. Despite being a mere inch or two taller than the de Vil, she was towering above him. Her smirk had vanished, and her hands took hold of his wrists.

"Don't make me," she yanked him closer, "tell you again."

The white-haired boy closed his eyes, and pulled away with a huff. He rubbed his wrists as he turned the other way without a word.

"Let's go," Mal continued, motioning her hands to the front door. "I'd like to get there sometime today."

Evie and Carlos trailed behind Mal and Jay, flashes of purple and green and red and yellow inches in front of them. Evie snaked smirks and smiles to boys she passed, giving a small wave to a lucky few. Carlos rolled his eyes and trudged alongside her, knowing full-well she wouldn't stop and, if she wanted, would actually stop to have a small chat with one of them.

She was tempted to go stalk over to Anthony Tremaine, Lady Tremain's grandson. But decided against it when Mal and Jay quickened their pace into an alleyway. Carlos followed behind him, and Evie had drifted to the back, avoiding puddles of blood and other liquids, feeling her waves of blue hair bounce and fall from her shoulders.

"We're here," Mal grinned, eyeing the massive mansion that was Hell Hall.

It was arguably the biggest house on the Isle, next to Evil Queen's Castle-Across-the-Way or Maleficent's Forbidden Fortress (a place only they were able to venture far enough into.)

The building was sturdy, plastered with aging and cracking paint, taking on undertones of dark gray and black, some pieces splotched with exposed brick from years of wear and tear. The shingles of the roof were hanging on for dear life, and the porch that wrapped around the building was held together by some nails and scotch tape.

"Lead the way," Mal added, turning to the younger boy. He inhaled, and brushed past her and opened the rusty-gates that lead onto the property. They all grimaced at the godawful sound of the screeching-gate, followed by the sound of the rattling hiss that ended when Carlos closed it behind him.

Mal smiled, and waited patiently for Carlos to step onto the porch. He swallowed hard, and cautiously brought his hand to the massive towering doors that easily stood ten-to-fifteen feet, looming over them like they were mere insects.

"If Mom catches you," Carlos sighed, "you're dead."

"I'll take my chances..." Mal followed behind him as he cracked open the door, and slipped into the darkness. Evie trailed behind her, and Jay went in last, closing the door behind him.

They were met with pitch black, and waited until someone's stray hand wondered the wall and finally found the switch. The lights flickered on, igniting the room in a yellowy-glow. Carlos stepped into the massive living room, his eyes stopped at the giant fireplace and mantle on the main wall, burn-marks faded the once-stark white paint into an ashy-charcoal color. It reminded Evie of Carlos' hair, her eyes wondering up the wall to where it eventually faded back to the aging-white paint, now taking on a more beige-undertone.

"Lead the way, Doggy."

Carlos rolled his eyes at Mal's statement, his jaw clenched and his chest tightened. He never liked his nickname, especially with the awful stories his mother has told him, each one involving the same demon-beast that was known for it's razor-sharp fangs, vicious attitude, and lust for the blood of little boys. A dog.

"Stop calling me that," he replied bleakly. Hearing her shrug her shoulders and not acknowledge his request didn't sit easy with him, knowing full-well she would never stop.

They followed the youngest down a corridor, complete with uneven floor-boards and hideous portraits of Cruella de Vil back in her heyday.

"Because that's comforting," Evie whispered to herself, eyeing the portrait of Cruella as she was lounging across her bed, the only clothing on her was a tight-fitting, black and white fur coat. Her breasts remained in full-view, easily scarring her son every time he was forced to walk past it. "She's like a saggy beanbag."

"Gross," Jay whispered behind her. She giggled with him.

They climbed up the narrow staircase that easily carried them up four or five floors, Carlos pushed open the heavy door and revealed another room chockfull of darkness and dread.

"And this place is...?" Mal trudged into the room, noticing the floor was tiled, and there were boarded-up windows at the far end.

"An empty room," Carlos replied. "We can stay in here."

"You expect me to stay in some dingy, old attic-death trap for Goblins-knows how long?" Evie turned to the boy, "It's pitch black in here. What'd you want us to do, play hide n' seek?" Her hands trailed up the sides of her arms, crossing them and glaring at Carlos.

"Relax. There's some lanterns and candles in that closet," he pointed at the door on the other side of the room, "and I was thinking we could talk. You know, get to know a little about each other. Fuck it, maybe even a game of truth or dare?"

"Or Seven Minutes in Heaven?" Mal smirked.

"More like Seven Minutes in Hell," Evie murmured, still hearing the snapping of thousands upon thousands of fur traps all around her. There was no fucking way she was ever stepping foot inside a closet in Hell Hall, ever again. "Let's start with Truth or Dare!"

"Fine," Carlos waved them to sit down on the floor. Mal huffed as she did so, and Jay dropped to his knees and slumped backwards until he was firmly on the ground. Evie whimpered (she hated sitting on the floor), and cautiously took a seat next to Jay. Carlos disappeared inside the closet, they heard him curse when he stubbed his toe, but after a minute or so, he emerged with a plethora of lanterns and candles.

"Who goes first...?" Jay asked, finally taking his seat after helping Carlos set up the candles and lanterns. The room was still dark, or "moody," as Evie put it. She liked the way the candles flickered and the lanterns made the dust in the air glow and shimmer.

She described it as "A Romanticist's Dream."

Mal described it as "The Stupid Attic."

"I'd say Carlos, he was the one who had the idea." Mal pressed her lips into another fine line, turning her head and facing him, "Carlos, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Wimp," Mal scoffed, her face darkening as she smiled, "Fine. When was your first kiss, who was it with, and where did it happen...?"

"That's three different questions-"

"Just answer 'em," Jay huffed, "Come on, tell us."

Carlos rolled his eyes, and crossed his legs to get comfortable. His eyes switched from Jay to Evie to Mal, Mal's eyes were particularly more green than usual, and her devilish smile reminded him none other than Cruella de Vil. And he knew she did it on purpose. Why were they friends again?

"Well," Carlos' index finger tugged at the torn collar of his black shirt, while his other hand roamed up and down the leg of his shorts. "My first kiss was... when I was twelve." He blinked and paused, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he prepared to answer the second and third question. Which he still thought was against the rules. Which, on the Isle, was no surprise.

"...and it was with Ginny Gothel, near that old dried-up fountain near Dragon Hall."

Jay sagged his shoulders, hoping it'd be more interesting. Evie smiled, like usual when it came to anything involving lips touching lips or Carlos touching lips. Mal just smiled, and turned to Evie, "Now Carlos asks you."

She nodded, and before the boy had a chance to act, she was already answering. "Truth, too."

"Okay..." Carlos whispered, and slumped backwards, using his extended arms to keep him up, "out of the three of us," he motioned to himself, Jay, and Mal, "who would you kiss, punch, or fuck?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"You've gotta answer."

She sighed, and slumped her shoulders. She peered at Mal, "I'd punch you."

"Fair enough," the daughter of Maleficent chuckled.

Evie looked from Carlos to Jay, and she bit her bottom lip, "well, I guess I'd fuck Jay and kiss you, Carlos." She looked the youngest partner in crime, "No offense. Too young, for my taste."

Carlos scoffed, "Are you calling me ugly?" He laughed when Evie laughed, her cheeks bloomed red and she bit her lip, now turning to Jay.

"Jay, truth or dare?"

"Unlike you wimps, I'm picking dare."

Evie smiled, and she looked back at Carlos and Mal, both wearing their own devilish smirks and smiles. Jay choked back the uneasiness he felt, suddenly his answer seemed like the wrong one.

"Do a strip tease," the corners of Evie's lips curled upwards, and her eyes fluttered like the wings of a beautiful butterfly, or like those of a stinger-happy hornet.

"Excuse me...?"

"Strip, Jay. Do a strip tease. Just down to your underwear." Evie batted her eyes again, "You did pick dare, after all."

"I hate all of you," Jay sighed, now pulling himself up to stand on both feet.

Mal smiled, "We know."

He rolled his shoulders, and clenched his jaw. He then followed by cracking his knuckles, neck, and flexing his arms. Apparently, he needed to do all this before even peeling off his gloves. He eventually tossed aside the fingerless-gloves, and began to kick off his clunky-boots. He pulled off his beanie, before stripping himself of all the scores he stole on the way here.

"You guys ready...?" He eyed all three, lingering on Carlos.

"Are you...?" Mal asked, almost sarcastically. She snickered, "Show us them muscles of yours."

Jay nodded, his fingers trailed up his sleeveless-leather vest, before slowly pulling the zipper down, giving the three villains on the ground glimpses of his blood-red undershirt, matching the color of his beanie he'd discarded moments before.

"Prepare to be blown away," he mumbled, ripping his vest open and pretending that it was like the most holy and sacred thing anyone's eyes had ever laid upon.

His fingers curled around the hem of his undershirt after he untucked it from his pants, and he slowly peeled the fabric up and up, giving everyone some time to adjust their eyes as he revealed what truly made him a "man-slut," as Mal liked to put it.

Evie's breath was caught in her throat, and Mal went wide-eyed. Carlos' jaw dropped and he shifted in discomfort. Jay smirked as he fixed his hair, the undershirt now laying on the ground next to his vest, gloves, boots, and beanie. Carlos drifted his eyes down to the floor, his cheeks had blossomed almost as red as the sleeves of his jacket, and Evie was chewing on her bottom lip, keeping herself from gasping louder than she did before.

"So...?" He perked up, "Should I keep going, or am I making some people a little too... red."

Carlos swallowed hard, and his eyes glared back up at Jay, almost immediately gawking once again at the chiseled-masterpiece that is his partner in crime's chest. Jay's dark eyes went from girl to boy to girl, ending at Mal.

"You look a little, uh, pale there—Mal." He snickered, addressing her white-as-snow cheeks and the ghostly complexion that Evie would nearly have a heart attack over if it was her own face. "Were you expecting rolls of fat to come piling out of my vest once I took it off...?" He glanced at the other two, Carlos' head sagging below his shoulders while Evie's lips had become her new personal snack, biting down on them hard enough to draw blood.

"I-I'm just... getting a weird feeling..." Mal turned to Carlos, "I-is your mom... h-home?"

"Uh, yeah. I think so...? Why?" His arm stretched out and grabbed her shoulder. Jay had started to retrieve his stuff and was already pulling them back on. Evie began to mull over what she thought was one of the fairest chests in all the (is)land.

"I can feel something, l-like, something strange."

"Well, you did eat at Ursula's Fish & Chips this morning, remember? That's where I stole her necklace. Maybe you're just, uh, I don't know, gassy?" Jay was zipping up his vest as he spoke, "Carlos, where's the nearest bathroom-"

"It's not that," Mal punched his shin from where she sat, before picking herself up and moving over to the door they came from. "I'm sensing six people in the house..."

"How the hell can you sense that?" Evie had stood up, and was following her closely.

Mal wasn't paying attention to her question, she turned to the youngest and asked, "Does your mother have a guest over, or something?" Carlos shrugged, giving a 'Wouldn't Surprise Me' kind of look.

"Probably one of her 'Business Partners,'" he made sure to put air quotations around the words: Business Partners. He knew his mother was the go-to-woman when it came to kinky and sinful desires. Her fetish for fur was merely the top of the keep-quiet-and-let-mommy-have-fun-with-her-pets iceberg. He knew he was a result of one of those "Business Meetings" and he knew his father had probably been back for seconds, or thirds, or fourths. He kept an eye out for freckled-fellows with lighter skin and dimples, knowing he didn't get them from the woman he called "Mother."

"I'm gonna ask again. How the hell can you sense how many people are in this place...?" Evie grabbed Mal's shoulder, tugging her. "I mean, there's no magic here. And I'm pretty sure your mother didn't have that power."

Mal breathed in, "I'm not sure. I just know someone else is here. What about Horace or Jasper?"

"They're attached at the hip. Can't have one without the other. Same with their sons. I'm telling you, Mother's with a guy, it's no big-"

"Oh, fuck." Mal hissed, "It's my mother."

"Why is your mother with mine?!" Carlos barked, "Fuck, Mal! I knew we shouldn't have come here-"

"Will you shut up? We might not be in trouble, they might not even know we're here." Mal put her ear to the door, listening just in case her mother and Cruella were coming up the stretch of stairs that eventually lead to the attic they were hiding away in.

"Hate to break it to you, Mal; but if you have that weird sense-people power thing, then it's probably a given that your mother has it, too," said Evie.

Jay flocked over to the boarded-up windows, peering through the cracks in the thin wood. "We might be able to climb down."

"We're almost sixty-feet in the air, no offense, but I'd rather not plummet to my death."

The prince of thieves ignored Carlos' statement, "I'm a master climber, we can do it." He paused, berating himself for sounding like the four of them were a team. Which they weren't. "Just don't screw up, and you probably won't die."

"Gee, that's reassuring." Evie huffed, looking from him to Carlos and Mal, who looked just as—if not more—nervous than she did.

"Wanna face their mothers...?" asked Jay, peering at Evie as he pointed to the two villains beside her.

Evie huffed again, and stomped towards him, "Let's do this."

Without any effort into it, the four villains managed to pry off the wooden board, and peer out of the dusty, almost-blackened glass and see the rest of the island below. Jay practically broke the rusty handle off of it as he opened the window on the verge of shattering with how many cracks he could see. There was a small ledge, the length of a child's foot, jutting out from the wall. Below that, was a sheer sixty-foot drop onto the front lawn of the mansion.

"Please don't die," Carlos whispered to them, and to himself. If one of them slipped and fell he knew he'd be the one to clean up the... mess. If he weren't the mess, that is.

Jay was the first to step out onto the ledge, quickly fumbling around before clutching onto the metal bar outlining the window. Thank the Goblins for Gothic Architecture, or Carlos would be peeling a thief off the driveway. He shimmied across, ducking his head under the slanted roof before practically jumping onto the next one... six feet away.

Carlos nearly had a heart attack, and he wasn't even the one doing it. Yet.

"Your turn," Mal stated, shoving the back of Carlos' shoulder.

The fourteen-year-old mimicked the huff Evie let out minutes prior, and cautiously stepped onto the window sill, pulling himself through and immediately regretting it. His eyes forced their way down to see the spot his body would surely land if he made one tiny little error. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." he whispered to himself, now sliding his heel across the ledge, edging closer and closer, seeing Jay perched on the ridged-peak of the roof, his legs framing each side as he watched the island below.

"Keep going," the older boy called out, "just jump when you get to the end."

Carlos barely processed or even listened to Jay's advice, he zipped his lips and followed his instincts, and, on the island, that's the only thing you could ever trust. He let out a heavy breath, and bounced off the ledge and crashed onto the roof. Jay gripped his flailing wrists and pulled with all his might.

He hadn't expected Carlos to be so light, he nearly pulled him up and over the peak of the roof. "Thanks," he whispered, quieting down and letting his chest rise and fall as he begged for air to refill his lungs.

"Don't mention it," replied Jay.

Evie was fumbling across, having stripped herself of her heels and clung to the ledge as her socked-feet inched their way over. She jumped, and landed in the boys' arms, where she was quick to thank them, and mimic the way they sat on the ridge. Next was Mal, and despite her stone-cold facial expression, and amazing reflexes, she looked utterly terrified. She jumped across and pulled herself up without help.

"This way," Jay stated, pulling himself backwards, until he was over another section of roof, one with a more gradual slope that lead to an even flatter part. He was firm in his place before he turned around and helped Evie down, wrapping his muscly-arms around her waist and hauling her beside him. Mal dropped down on her own, leaving the youngest of their band of misfits, his legs dangling down and his eyes wide.

Jay stretched out his arms, "I've got you," he mumbled, before gripping the smaller boy's sides and pulling him down. Carlos remained silent, unaware his feet were on top of Jay's, until an uncomfortable cough from the older brought his senses back to him.

He played it off with a goofy grin and a gentle push of the shoulder, but Carlos was left with the butterflies in his stomach swarming around, while Jay had trouble to hide the blushes that colored his tanner cheeks and the blossoming red that crawled up his neck.

Mal dropped to her knees, and rubbed her hands along the shingles, closing her eyes and letting her fingers do their magic.

"She's still here," she bit back a fit of laughter, "and my mother seems to be a little pissed."

"My mother's fault, no doubt."

Carlos peered over the edge after letting the words part from his lips, they were two stories lower now, and he recognized the window across to the other side of the roof. It lead to another empty room, and eventually to a spiral staircase all the way to Carlos' room.

(Or, a closet, as he and his partners in crime called it.)

He'd trail up the stairs during busy nights without his mother around, finding old magazines with his mother on the cover, advertising her clothing line and company, "De Vil Industries." Other memorabilia from Cruella's height-of-power included countless portraits of herself draped head-to-toe with furs of black and white, as well as heaps of old fur and fabrics, untouched for decades.

"Follow me, this leads to my room," Carlos opened the window, cringing with every creak of wood and every rattle of glass.

"You mean your closet?" replied Mal, grinning at the statement. Evie swatted at her shoulder, and gave her the 'Leave Carlos The Fuck Alone' glare she had to use often just to shut Mal up. She shrugged past Princess Blueberry, and crawled in after the teen with black and white curls of hair.

Evie climbed through, followed by Jay; who shut it behind him.

"We just have to be quiet. And watch where you step—creaky floors, and, on occasion, a fur trap or two." Carlos whispered plainly, letting the others deadpan and slowly follow his careful steps and lightweight movements. The room was dark, the four clung to the wall like a lifeline, with each's hand grazing the back of the villain in front of them. Carlos led the way, Mal's hand fisted into the black and white fur of his jacket collar, Evie clung to the purple strips of dangling-leather on Mal's back, and Jay's hands tugged gently on the ocean-blue locks.

Carlos wrapped his fingers around a cold knob, jumping a little and causing a small shriek to radiate from one of his partners in crime: Evie. "Sorry..." she mumbled to the three, before Carlos quietly pulled open the heavy door.

One by one, they vanished into the black abyss that was the spiral staircase that would supposedly carry them to Carlos' closet-called-room.

"Some of the steps are, like, crumbly. So... be careful. And if you do fall, try not to bring the rest of us with you." The son of Cruella de Vil snarked. "And don't be loud."

He rolled his eyes at Mal's re-uttering of his words a second later, thinking that she sounded vaguely familiar to Iago the Parrot. His hands rubbed along the drooping-wallpaper, faded overtime so the once-exquisite design weren't even recognizable. Evie felt a small brush of fur along her ankle, and she hiccuped at the thought of a rat, or some animal's carcass after one of Cruella's "midnight-pleasures," or something far worse.

She didn't know exactly what could be worse, but she knew Cruella would have the perfect answer if she ever found out.

Jay's eyes were glued to the stone stairs beneath him, narrowly missing cracks and uneven stairs that made him question how the three villains in front of him walked down without problem. He could barely get a visual of the white tufts and curls upon Carlos' head, and only saw the flashes of the purple tendrils of hair bouncing off her leather-clad shoulders. Evie was in plain sight, as his nose was practically an inch from nestling into the locks of her hair, now swaying back and forth with every step; much like his own as he stepped down.

"Here," Carlos stopped, feeling Mal's grip on his collar tighten as she almost fell on top of him. "Welcome to my humble abode..."

The door pressed open, and Carlos disappeared inside. Mal followed, Evie entered, and Jay wafted through the threshold, observing the room that seemed to get smaller and smaller with every visit. Cobwebs hugged the corners, stretching across and slowly waving at them by the vent blowing in air behind it.

"Now what?" Mal questioned, "How do we get out...?"

"There's a tunnel. It's been closed-off for years after I tried sneaking out."

"Your mom caught you?"

Carlos felt the scars tingle, before giving a firm nod. He gripped an old rusty door, pulling it and letting it's screeching sound deafen the four; his tongue slithered across his bottom lip as his muscles tightened, pushing it open about two feet before bowing out from exhaustion. "Down this hall, there's an old wine cellar; past that is the tunnel."

"We better move fast, 'cause there's no fucking way our mothers didn't hear that," Mal snapped, glaring at him. "So, c'mon, hurry!"

She pulled Evie by her wrist, and allowed Jay to grip her forearm to follow closely. Carlos remained behind, glancing over his shoulder to take a final look, not knowing if this would be his last visit.

All his inventions remained in the tree house towering above his backyard, and Beelzebub—his loyal, evil cat-sidekick—was probably wondering around the mansion somewhere, hiding from his mother and causing mischief wherever she played. Hopefully, he'd get to see her and his inventions again. They were all he had.

"You comin' or not?" Jay gripped his shoulder, and whirled him around.

Carlos' stomach flipped and he nodded quickly, he pushed past the older boy and followed the girls into the cellar, now filled with empty barrels and dust and cobwebs.

"Here," Carlos gripped the edges of a plank of wood, nearly twice the size of himself and tightened to the stone-brick walls with nails as thick as his thumbs and as long as his forearm. "Help me pry this off, and then we just need to pull apart the stones she piled up."

"Seriously? Your mom did all of that just so you wouldn't be able to sneak out...?" questioned Evie, her mind dizzying from the moldy air and smell of two-decade-old wine.

He nodded, "That's my mommy. Over-dramatic. Scary. And a fucking sociopath."

"Don't forget, she's got a wicked fur-fetish," Mal added, almost comically. Her grin wasn't matched by the other three, receiving glares instead. Jay was practically bleeding concern for Carlos, not that anyone would know. Or could know.

Concern was for the people of Auradon. The good people. And he wasn't a good person.

"Yeah... wanna help?" His fingers trailed down the sides of the wood, almost anticipating the splinter he would surely get. His lips quivered at the question, and his eyes focused in on the only other guy, the macho one. Evie wouldn't dare risk breaking a nail and Mal simply didn't have the upper body strength. Not that Carlos did. But it was his house. He had to be the one to do it. With Jay.

The thief gripped the other side, and with strained-and-veiny foreheads, plus a litter of curse words thrown through the air, they managed to pry off the board and send it tumbling to the ground with a firm snap.

It'd broken it half, with Jay's splintery-end hanging from his fingers while Carlos' rested at his feet. Jay dropped his piece and looked into the blackness of the hallway, glaring at the walls draped in layers of dust and vines. His shoulders widened, and his jaw rolled into a tight clench, before stepping one foot in, giving a final look at the de Vil, and ghosting away into the darkness.

Mal kissed the ends of the purple-leather, high collar on her jacket, and followed the taller boy.

Evie gripped the heart-shaped ruby dangling from her neck, and after giving a small smile to Carlos, she stepped forward and disappeared into the daunting darkness that seemingly began to creep out, inch by inch, into the cellar. Carlos shuttered, and gave one final look.

He prayed he'd never come back. But he knew he would. He always did.

With a toxic gasp of wine-soaked air, Carlos, too, vanished into the blackness.

Whelp, that's it for now. More Carlos-centric that I initially planned it to be, but hopefully you liked it anyway. Tell me in the reviews (if I'm lucky enough to get any) what you thought of the chapter length—good or bad? Do you like long chapters?

I'd appreciate any input; good or bad, constructive or plain rude—I'll take all of it.

Thanks for reading, and hopefully, with a little luck, you'll stick around long enough for Chapter Two.