Culling the Sheep
TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP
TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP
THE ROOM IS DARK. The soft light created from a wide array of several plasma screen monitors lights the room in which I sit now. My fingers are tapping on the metallic arm rest out of irritation. Their soft electrical light bathes me, my robes, and the black leather chair in which I sit in the various hues of the color wheel. Behind me move several shapeless forms. The light reflecting off of their moving forms is less vivid than my halo which allows others in the room to see me. Their forms are shrouded by the fragile light, their identities unknown to you, known to me, but shall thus remain nameless. The conglomerate of screens previously mentioned allows those within the room to witness events which have come to pass in the recent history within my own Konclave walls. Events to which I am most displeased to be a spectator to. The feeling is mutual throughout the room's dimly lit confines. The screens show United Wrestling Alliance wrestler Spitfly discussing something with a Minion. The tapes play, conversation ensues, rules are broken, perhaps soon bones. Voices from the shadows murmur...
"That little bitch."
"Which one?"
"Where does she get off talking about Doc like that?"
TAP TAP
"Yeah well last time I checked I was the only Rebecca getting airtime. Then this fucking slave starts trying to think for herself."
"Maybe she didn't see what I did to Minions 2, 3 and especially what I did to 1."
TAP TAP TAP
"Well maybe you didn't do a good enough job!"
"Scuse me?"
"It's not MY job to keep the Minions in line now IS it?"
TAP TAP TAP TAP
I break my silence. The laws must be drawn out tonight. I can see it is now time, just as God handed Moses the commandments, just as Hammurabi laid out his code... now I give my words, my law, to the slave herds. My voice, my commands, shall once more ring in their ears. Now and FOREVER.
Doc Placebo, "SILENCE!"
It's not their fault. Their just venting their frustration at a growing problem to which it is time I put closure. Our control over the slaves appears to be waning. Not something I've been happy to admit but something I'm being forced to confront. Since the airing of this tape I've been in contact with members of the Kovenant proper. I was not exactly looking for guidance on what to do but more for a blessing so as not to offend. The support I sought I have gained and that in the least brings me confidence in what is to come.
Doc Placebo, "The Minions are MINE. They belong to me and me alone."
Doc Placebo, "I decide their fate. They live or die on MY whim."
Doc Placebo, "When the Minions last disappointed me I concocted a plan with the Trinatas. We waged war throughout Children's Hospital and those Minions whom I had been previously dissatisfied were placed on the front lines to expire."
Doc Placebo, "And need I remind you that Natas did not disappoint. With the sharpened femur's of those own Minions the Maggots snuffed the life from my captive failures. And that was... that."
Doc Placebo, "Now I see a brand new disappointment... Minions speaking out against me within the walls of my own house. This charade cannot stand... Erica... Rebecca... I want you to make sure that this travesty cannot stand any longer."
The shadow recede from sight into a complete dark. Only their footfalls pay homage to their existence before I send one last message to them before they go off to do my work, my will.
Doc Placebo, "Ladies... you know what to do, so I do not expect a reply... just make sure he and all of them know. Pass them my law."
As expected I am greeted with beautiful silence. An understanding is a great thing indeed. Unsheathing the blade of my Spanish Rapier ever so slightly I capture the images on the monitors through the reflection in my European blade. The scene fades quickly and is replaced with several bold words written in ARIAL.
One Hour Later
Outside Spitfly's Room in the Koncalve
The scene is lifted quickly from the shadow of darkness and from the ARIAL narration which provided a brief intermission. A doorway like many others within the Konclave is shown however this doorway has had several "additions" placed to it. Erica and Rebecca's handiwork.
The Minion slave calling herself Becky appears to have been severely beaten. Her hand has been run through with a dagger and remains firmly planted to the door. Her damaged body is intertwined with dark bruises, bleeding festering cuts, and large amounts of barbed wire. One of her legs is entirely bound with the thorny metal wire forcing her to remain standing on the toes on just one foot due to the elevation of her hand which has been savagely nailed to the door via one dagger's bladed. Her skin is slick with a mixture of sweat and blood as the dagger and wire to which she is bound forces her to exert such energy so that her hand will not be further sliced through by the dagger. Her bound leg is crimson with blood as the barbs dig into her flesh tearing at her, her mind screams, but her voice is silent. Hushed breathing replaces cries of agony. Falling in and out of consciousness this Minion Slave's number has been carved into her forehead. Minion #224. A reminder of her role, her status, her identity, and her true owner. A series of laws has been written in blood on the door along side Minion 224.
I. The Voice that Commands is that of Placebo.
II. There is no other voice but his.
III. Identities of the past no longer exist.
IV. Placebo is the Master, we live to serve the Master.
V. Failure to serve the master brings death.
VI. Service to the Master means life.
The scene fades but the laws have been written for all to see. Those that cultivate otherwise within the Minion ranks will not be permitted quarter to continue such action. My will, my Minions, MINE. Now, and FOREVER.