The Road To Salvation

FALLING TO ONE KNEE I SHAKE WITH FEAR. Standing over me with that ever so wicked smile of her's is the Black Queen herself, Erica. She was once one of us and now she looks down at me with piercing eyes which I cannot see but I feel them boring holes into the back of my neck searing through my flesh and blasting a JFK size hole through my cerebellum. Her voice commands just as HIS once did. Now during the length of the final one's absence we have all fallen prey to the matriarch of the house Koven. She speaks to me, I continue to tremble, my limbs under the control of ever ebb and flow of a voice which converses as an angel yet tears through my ears like sirens. Despite the retching pain her voice creates in my stomach I struggle to listen as it is what I do. Erica, "You little Shit!" Again with the insults... they will never forgive me. It's all that fucking UWA's fault. Booking me against the Omega Sin, Doc Placebo. What was I supposed to do? I didn't ask to be booked but that didn't mean that I wasn't booked nonetheless. Just because the UWA could not be bothered to find a suitable opponent for the Master they choose us, his most loyal Minions to square off against him? To betray their loyalty in him for nothing but a cheap buck? I'll never forgive them for destroying me. I glance up towards the Mistress, my eyes meeting her fatal glare. sMaCK!THUD. Stupid move. Quicker than my eyes met hers my face meets the frost laden dirt floor of the Andorran Consulate Cellar. Stupid me. She hates it when we look at her... how could I forget? But I think it's mostly because SHE would rather forget. Forget that she was once in our position, once the minion not the mistress. Yes, memories can be painful, and knowing the Doctor's desires hers must have been far beyond what any of the others were subjected to. The mere fact that she had risen above such torments is why I know quake with fear... and why I allow her to drive my face into this dirt floor with her boot... this dirt floor stained of past blood spilled. The stench creeps into my nostrils, my mouth dries, and my mind cries with the screams. Erica, "Don't look at me trash. You only need your ears to listen, got it?" Her words reach my reeling mind and coalesce into patterns of speech which my mind decodes into thoughts which I can comprehend beyond the memories of pain this room has brought me throughout my long imprisonment for my betrayals. I try to nod in acquiesce to her commands, the mere effort hurts as her boot pushes my face further into the dirt, I taste it; dry crusty soil mixed with a chaser of red blood cells. Erica, "It's time you proved to me... and to HIM... what a good little minion you are." My eyes open wide. What was that? For a moment I hold my breath unable and incapable of breath. Was I finally being given the chance to escape this personal hell hole? Could I have asylum from this collection of torture devices below the Consulate's wreckage to which I have become a permanently acquainted? It is a question I had given up upon ever since being forced to square off against Placebo in UWA, now... I am hesitant to believe that the prospect of existence beyond these famous stainless steel doors within grasp. thunk Thunk THUNK THUNK She kicks a bunch of times, it hurts, but I'm used to the pain. I guess I didn't respond fast enough, yet I've heard this before. Or at least I've thought I've heard it before. I cannot really lay claim to what I've heard and what I've seen as fact within the last few days... or has it been years. I cannot say. Through the pains of my torment under Erica's tender hands I've suffered, I've cried. I've sobbed, and I could have sworn to myself that I've died. Damn that rhymed. Sweet... but the rhythmic verse of my thoughts is not what is at debate now... it's this promise of an escape to the good graces of the Omega Sin. I've been here before... in this line of thought... my mind swaying to this point in time, dreaming, hallucinating, hoping, taunting... Erica, "What's the matter? Are you too weak to speak up for yourself anymore?" She's kneeling next to me now. I cant see her since my eyes are perpendicular to the floor but I can hear her speaking into my ear directly. Her voice hushed... and a dull pain as she tugs on several individual strands of my hair. A sharp tug and I respond. Minion 1, "nnnehoooh." Erica, "Hmm?" Another tug. Minion 1, "NO!" Erica, "Delicious." I yelp out a response as several of my hairs are yanked from my head. Savoring my pain that witch keeps taunting me with her voice to which I cannot disobey. Then... she stands and the tone of her speech is different... still commanding, yet of another tone. I remain where I am, using my ears to listen to whatever cards are dealt my way by this temptress. Erica, "Freedom Morelez. Defeat him for me." Morelez? He's alive? News to me. However that might be in part due to the fact that your standard torture chamber does not come with CNN... or even the BBC. But why... should I just be a good little slave, crush my Mistresses enemy and then be done with it only to be held here under lock and key once more? If I want out of here then it's time to haggle. Minion 1, "Why should I? What's in it for me?" Erica, "The bargaining posture of a slave lying face down in the dirt of a cellar is... highly dubious..." Erica, "...but..." Erica, "Very well, you will be given a new start, and Minions 2 and 3 to command." Minion 1, "...and?" Erica, "AND NOTHING! You belong to me, for now." Silence, no more words to hear. It seems like an eternity but like I said I have no sense of time. We could have listed in that moment for a decade and I would not have known it from the mere 20 seconds that it truly was. Then I hear her footsteps moving away from me. She stops at the stainless steel door which has imprisoned many including Richard Renfield, 10 Minute Major's fan supporter Ian, and me. I hear the clanking of locks being undone and a cascading torrent of light enters the room warding off the shadows of the cellar and revealing to me the sinister contemptuous devices which have been used to hurt me for months on end. She stops at the doorway to speak once more; I do not yet dare to move. Erica, "Humiliate him for me... there can be only ONE GRAND SLAM CHAMPION... My Doctor... and your Master." With those words said she leaves my presence. I listen to the clacking sound her boot heels make as she transverses the circular stone staircase leading to the upper halls of the Consulate which had been condemned following a terrorist bombing attack two years past. I listen to her footsteps till I am left in silence and light. For the first time since she arrived I move on my own volition and I look towards the door... its OPEN!? Minion 1, "..." I don't know what to think. My body still hurts from yesterday's affair with the torture rack. Or was it the cement blocks on my chest forcing breath from my lungs and crushing my ribcage? The Omega only knows as my mind has long vacated these premises. Is the door open or is it yet another figment of my imagination? Am I still locked in here like Richard Renfield in the other room feeding off of the dead flesh of deceased Minions less fortunate than I? Perhaps. I sit down on the torture rack keeping my eye on the door as if I were almost daring it to shut of its own will. Minion 1, "..." Minion 1, "......." Minion 1, "............" It does not shut. The fucking door just stays open, taunting me, just like it always has. Probably waiting to close just as I get up and try to get out. Luring me like a fish, just dangling that bait out there waiting for me to bite. Well sir, Mr. Stainless Steel Door, fishing Season... Minion 1, "IS OVER!" I rush the door with all my speed and I... pass through. Slamming into the stone stairs leading to the Consulate my head cracks against the hard stone. In a daze I look up at the door behind me. It's still open. Beat you, bastard. I Fucking Beat You. ~fin~