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Insecurities
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By Syrubis
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Notes from the Author
LEAVE A COMMENT IN THE REVIEW, A, B OR C, TO DECIDE THE NEXT PART OF THE STORY. THE VOTE WITH THE MOST WILL BE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!
(This story is from the perspective of the sinister Megamind, for more Fanfiction check out Docility, or from the perspective of Roxanne check out Noir et Bleu)
I answer all reviews at the bottom of the chapters, and though I try to avoid spoilers I cannot guarantee that there won't be any so keep this in mind if you decide to read them. I'll answer any questions to the best of my abilities but if for whatever reason you don't find a reply to your review then it will be under the following chapter or I've decided not to reply. (Usually for harsh criticism or the review didn't seem to need any sort of reply.)
After reviews on appropriate chapters there will be a small section devoted to facts on the criminal mind and how they have been used in the story. Though they will often contain spoilers I recommend reading those if certain parts get confusing. A lot of people don't know these things, it's not common knowledge, and while obvious to some readers many actions can seem pointless and won't make clear sense.
WARNINGS
There will be graphic gore, violence, langue and sexual scenes and themes alone the lines of abuse, murder, torture and several other troubling topics along with good old fashioned fluff and sexual frustration. I can assure you that there are some people who just won't like it, and then some who will have their demented bone thoroughly tickled... If any of these things offended you than just don't read, no angry comments or horrid reviews. If you don't like it, don't tell me. If on the other hand you like it but have CONSTRUCTIVE criticism than please! I'm not going to get any better if you don't point out my flaws! I'm here to get better not protect my delicate ego.
And yes, I used Syx. It's an awesome name, I adore it and it fits 3
And lastly, because I wouldn't be me if I didn't ask, review! Tell me if you like it! I don't want to write things that suck and no reviews = suckage with the story! Don't let me suck D:
XD
The Internal Monologues will be in ITALIC
Notes, data or information read will be in BOLD or `Italic`
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Chapter One xXx Name
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The room was ill-lit and stunk of rust, water damage and several years' worth of stale blood and vomit. It was small with cement walls and an iron floor and ceiling, both slatted so you could see the metal-strewn workshop above and dirty water below, the only light filtering from above in little silver strands flecked with dust and spores as they glided through the stale air. As with all the other rooms of its kind this particular area housed nothing but a small metal chair covered in aged leather straps, a table with wheels and three shelves all currently void of apparatus and a set of hanging shackles in the far right corner. It had been chosen mainly for the benefit of the 'pets' bellow that had floated curiously to the surface, the bauble eyes of three young gators peering up through the grates. Besides them the room had laid untouched for months.
He waved a leather-clad hand, beckoning a large metal beast to join him instead of lingering, unsure, in the doorway, the tell-tale hefty swaying of an unconscious body slung over its shoulder. In several strides it had passed its master and, rather roughly, dropped a young man into the unstable chair and quickly began fastening the leather straps around both his legs and arms, leaving the neck untied so his head could hang pathetically. After a quick once over the beast then turned toward the exit and after the approving nod of its master made a quick escape, the heavy grunting of poorly-oiled metal making its way down the silent hall.
Syx didn't often get visitors these days, it was becoming increasingly difficult to find people who wouldn't be missed but still provided some sort of mental stimulation, beside the occasional drunken grunt of course. Today had been a good day, a tourist had gotten lost in the grandness of Metro City and with several weeks still left on his vacation it would be some time before anyone even began a search. He didn't have friends or family here and had been jumping from hotel to hotel as he explored the landmarks. It was unfortunate he'd chosen the warehouse district for his afternoon stroll, though it was hardly an obvious hideout for the cities villain, especially with all the intelligence he commanded.
In a few short strides the blue-skinned male leisurely approached the table and rolled out a small white cloth, abundant in various rusted utensils, tools and even kitchenware he'd found particularly promising. A cork screw, fork, grater and peeler among them. He took some time tending to them with a small damp cloth before settling everything in its place at the sound of a soft grunt behind him.
"W-what…? Where…?" the stranger coughed pathetically. Even so his voice echoed in the silent room. Heavy steps were making their way back up the hall and a soft and surprisingly gentle voice called in only seconds later.
"Master?"
"Hello? Hello, is anyone there?"
Again the stranger was ignored as the tall figure moved silently toward the door, excepting a small box of various items before returning to his table and laying out the assortment of test-tubes, beakers, petery dishes, pill containers and a small clear bowl which was promptly filled with a small bottle of water.
"For god's sake, someone answer me! What's going on? Who are you?"
"Number Six" the shadowed figure replied in monotone, only now sparing a brief look at his captor. His bright chemical-green eyes narrowing at the fearful browns that stared back.
"Let me go, what the hell is this! What are you, some kind of psycho? Untie me! Let me up!"
"Terribly sorry but I'm afraid you won't be going anywhere."
"Like hell I won't, let me go dammit!"
"Hmm, well I suppose… No." he mocked, his voice etched with a malicious humor as he turned back to his preparations.
"Master?" the beast behind him interrupted. "Perhaps you should sew his mouth shut to start? I think he might be a bit more aggressive than your usual-"
"Don't fucking touch me! You nut-jobs-" the guest was forcefully interrupted as a cloth was shoved rather violently into his mouth, forcing it wide and preventing anything but guttural sounds.
"There, much better, wouldn't you agree, Minion?"
"Oh, yes, definitely, Sir."
Syx smiled sincerely at the hulking metal brute before turning back to his assortment of tools. Gliding his fingers gently over the handles of his various toys he settled on a simple shiny scalpel and picked it up between his middle and index fingers, resting the handle on his palm as he checked it with a critical eye.
"What do I require in the labs, Minion?"
"Pretty much everything sir, we still have plenty of bones and a few female skin samples. Oh, may I suggest a sample of stomach tissue? We ran out and I haven't been able to continue experiment 32-a."
"Rough or clean cut?"
"Clean would be preferable, Sir."
"Very well. Let me know when Miss Ritchie calls."
"Will do, Sir."
With scalpel in hand the blue-skinned man turned his complete attention to his guest, who by now had started struggling rather consistently in his restraints and yelling un-intelligible things into the cloth in his mouth. A cruel sneer etched its way into Syx's face, a learned trait the inhuman being had picked up in his first few years of development. Despite many attempts he had found it too hard to re-program such simple acts, although he loathed admitting any similarity between him and the wretched kind that inhabited the planet.
"Tsk tsk, the more you struggle the more I waste and the more my little babies get to eat. Besides, I don't have the time to go running around looking for complacent replacements."
The first shallow incision in the man's arm was jagged, useless. The wound falling open in an ugly mouth. The scream that joined it, though muffled, echoed around the room, even after it had stopped some seconds later. In all honesty Syx was more than capable of silencing the man, putting him to sleep, relieving him of pain. He couldn't bring himself to do it; he adored the frightened glint in the stranger's eyes, the sound of aged leather stretching to its limits. The way the first few slices initiated screams, screams that would eventually turn to whimpers and begging, finally to result in nothing but shuddered breaths and cries as their spirit broke. He lived for these moments, moments where he was free to do as he pleased, unbound by law or morals. This room was his sanctuary, the man his conduit for everything he knew he would be since he was a child. Perhaps it was dark, a desire ruled by madness but as the evening wore on and bit by bit the stranger moved from the chair to the sanitary dishes at no point could Syx bring himself to feel guilt. At no point did he want to.
The man had passed out some time ago, somewhere between the removal of the last of the flesh from his left arm and the incision into his scalp. He wouldn't live much longer. Syx was educated but he could only do so much to prevent the loss of such copious amounts of blood, which was harvested as best he could manage. The gators bellow had caused a fuss for the first hour or so but Syx had been rather savory in his harvest, keeping as much as possible before he'd end up throwing the rest into the putrid water below. It would barely fill his pets and they'd still need their daily feed.
"Sir?" came a shy voice from the doorway, the bulking form leaned in slightly, light reflecting dimly from its shiny domed top and in the two bauble eyes of the creature within.
"Yes, Minion?"
"Miss Ritchie just called and left a message, she'd like you to call her back as soon as possible. Would you like me to continue here for a moment?"
"Thank-you, Minion." He replied calmly, setting aside his tools. "If you can, take the brain and organs then drop the rest through the grate. The pets are getting upset."
"Of course, sir." Minion replied, smiling widely as his master pushed past him into the bright hall. Well, bright in comparison to the cell. Syx wasn't much of a fan of well-lit areas, or anything short of a cold cemented room to be honest, but that could very well have been from his years in prison, of which there were many.
Many doors passed as the blue-skinned being made his way towards the upper levels. The lowest point was for his most fragile of experiments. The level above that for the standard or those that would take some time to complete, above that was his home. His bedroom, his kitchen, his world secluded from the ignorance of the world's dominant beings. The level above that, workshops and storage before finally the ground floor, where he schemed mostly. Lots of clutter, plenty of mess. Blueprints galore.
The genius found the reporters message, hastily written on a notepad on the kitchen table.
"Megamind, they recovered more of your kill-bots, they're down at the dump- again. You might want to move them before they look too much into your software. There's also another stray downtown, by that old pizzeria. I think she might be pregnant."
LEAVE A COMMENT IN THE REVIEW, A, B OR C, TO DECIDE THE NEXT PART OF THE STORY. THE VOTE WITH THE MOST WILL BE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!
CHOICE A – Go see Roxanne
CHOICE B – Get the Stray
CHOICE C – Recover the Kill-Bots