Iago (Othello, William Shakespeare)
The best villains reveal the evil in our own souls, and Iago's genius lies in how little he actually does. Sticks and stones may break bones, but using words to kill is much more fun, as Shakespeare's silver-tongued scoundrel turns Othello into a murderer with a dose of poisonous poetry. Described by Coleridge as a monster of "motiveless malignity", Iago is maddeningly opaque. Is he driven by unrequited love for Desdemona, or even Othello? By racism, misogyny, ambition, or all three? Who cares? We plebs realise what Shakespearean scholars struggle to understand: being bad feels good. Go, Iago.
The Queen of Hearts (Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll)
As evil catchphrases go, "Off with his head!" has admirable practicality and style, and it perfectly encapsulates the horribly joyful wickedness of Wonderland's tyrannical queen. Most literary villains resort to elaborate plotting and trickery, or hide abuses of power behind a smiling façade, but the Queen of Hearts has no time for such subtleties. Admittedly she's rather ineffectual – the king continually pardons her subjects behind her back - but Carroll's queen represents that deliciously pure, tantrummy toddler evil that destroys for the hell of it and doesn't care if it follows through. Relive your childhood by voting Queen.
Bill Sikes (Oliver Twist, Charles Dickens)
Bill Sikes's villainous calling card is, of course, that scene. You know the one. Bill's teeth are clenched, his jaw bulging; Nancy is cowering and pleading; Bullseye's paws are paddling in gushing blood. A born cinematographer, Dickens evokes Sikes's most evil deed so vividly that Bill has become seared into the national consciousness as an archetype of callous, brutish cruelty. However, for Brits Bill becomes a supervillain much earlier, in chapter 15, when he tries to kill his dog. Murder of downtrodden prostitutes and exploitation of young orphans we can accept; violence to bull terriers we cannot. Condemn him here.
Count Fosco (The Woman in White, Wilkie Collins)
Long before James Bond, Brits liked their villains fat, foreign and with a fondness for pets. As soon as we meet Collins's oleaginous Italian Count Fosco, caressing tame white mice, we know we are in the presence of a dangerous devil indeed. Ugly-beautiful and soft-spoken, with glittering grey eyes and noiseless step, Fosco is a kid-gloved killer who destroys his wife and conspires to drive the virtuous Laura Fairlie mad. But above all, when casting your vote think on this: the most evil villain in literature would definitely play the concertina. It just fits. Click here for the count.
Magua (Last of the Mohicans, James Fenimore Cooper)
A one-time soldier in the colonial British army who was driven out by drink, Indian guide Magua initially appears in Fenimore Cooper's classic novel as the protector of Colonel Munro's daughters, but the Huron chief soon reveals his true villainy by kidnapping them as vengeance against the invaders who robbed him of his dignity. Terrifying and ruthless, Magua is our symbolic heart of darkness, the savage within society who reminds us that we're not as civilised as we think. Magua stalks through North America's fetid jungle scenery with icy animal stealth like the western world's worst nightmare. Vote Magua … or else.
