(Minion's POV)

I pulled the items out of the dog house, just like Betty told me to. Charon was flexing his fingers in agitation. "Creepy clown mask and butcher knife; check," I said, grimacing at the ugly, sinister mask. It was like something from a pre-war horror film.

"Mistress, I do not like this at all," he tried yet again, but I was having a hard time taking his ten year old warnings seriously. "You are being used."

I put on the mask and gripped the knife in my hand. I felt stupid. I wished he'd stop pointing out the inevitable truth. "I know, Red. But there's nothing else I can do. Betty is invincible, and we've gotta play his games. Besides, I think this'll be fun."

He stared at me with a face so disturbed I felt like running around and going "booga booga boo!" just for the hell of it. But I repressed that urge for his sake.

"Killing innocent people? I didn't know you would go that far, Mistress..." And when he said that, boy did I feel bad. I took off the mask again and put the knife away.

"Hey, I wouldn't... This is just a simulation, Charon. They're not really going to die. Nobody can die, here. It's just going to look like they are. Betty will just get bored and revive them later. Wipe all their memories and play a new game. Take on a new look and name." At least, that's what Betty had told me. And I believed him, because what else could I do, here?

Charon looked back at me, and for once, we were at eye level with each other. It was strange. "Very well. If that is the case, then let's get it over with."

"Wait here - I'll be back when I'm done!" And I ran off, my face again concealed by that awful mask. I held the knife out in front of me as I sought out my victims. Betty watched with delight, and Charon turned away, as I chased after the first person who ran from me.

"It's the Pint-Sized Slasher!" he cried, voice shaking with terror. I followed him into a random house and burst inside behind him before he could latch the door. He wailed and took off into another room. A woman screamed and scrambled up the stairs. I cornered the man in the kitchen and grabbed a fistful of his hair in my hand. With a jerk of my wrist, his neck was openly displayed. He was crying now, artificial tears streaming down his face.

And suddenly I couldn't do it. It was all too realistic. This man, though probably not real, hadn't wronged me.

I let the knife clatter to the floor and backed away, watching the man sit there and babble to himself, staring at the ceiling. When my back hit the door I spun outside on my heel and slammed it closed. I ran towards Charon, and Betty called out to me angrily. I hurled the distasteful mask at the ground and rejoined my friend. Doubled over, I tried to catch my breath.

"Mistress?" he asked, not expecting me to return in such a manner.

"I couldn't do it," I murmured shamefully, straightening myself up. "I... it was too real. Damn, I wish I had some fucking jet right now."

Charon smirked at me. "I'm relieved. I knew you weren't a murderer." Ow. That stung a little. Actually it stung a lot. "But how are we going to get out of here?"

I scratched at my arm and made certain Betty wouldn't hear what I was about to say. "I forgot about it till now, but this crazy old woman told me about a fail-safe terminal. If I can activate that, I think we can get out."

"Where is this terminal?" he questioned, staring at me with what I thought might have been a new level of respect.