This has got to be a nightmare! Miku doesn't exist in the real world, nor does this horror of a factory. So what the actual heck is going on?! Perhaps this is someone's idea of "role play"?
"Excuse me?" Bex called. "But are you role playing?"
"I don't have time for those silly games!" Miku yelled. "If you don't produce music for me, then you're fired."
Bex laughed hysterically; she didn't know how to act, what to think or feel in this given situation. All of this seemed like a practical joke gone wrong.
"Fine! I'm outta here!" she said, marching off.
Miku smirked and then teleported in front of the escapee. "Perhaps I should dumb it down to your level; work for me or you die."
"Oh, cute! You have stunt doubles!" Bex giggled.
But after looking back and forth multiple times, it became clear that this phenomenon isn't logical. "Are you a magician?" she dared to ask.
"No, I'm a singer and I need people like you to create music for me." Miku answered, poking the girl's chest. "Now get to work!"
If she's to get answers, Bex needs to follow orders from this Miku character for now. She's well aware of the Vocaloid craze and enjoys their songs. But she's not going to succumb to her fangirlish ways until she gets undeniable evidence that points to Miku's living existence. Of course, that ain't happening. One way to bring Miku into the real world is to give her a robot body and transfer a fake consciousness to it. But no man or woman can replicate human life with science.
Miku drags Bex to her station where she'll be working for eternity. She wanted to deny it, but she was scared. The diva could sense that; everyone that works here wears a neck brace that tracks their whereabouts and vitals to see if they're still alive.
"It's futile to hide secrets from me," Miku grinned devilishly. "No slacking and no running off!"
"This is a joke, right?" Bex asked in panic. "You're not real! You're just a virtual diva people use to make songs to earn a living. Ya get it? You're virtual-"
With the snap of Miku's fingers, a small jolt of electricity coursed through her slave's body. She didn't like it, not one bit. As much as she hates it, Bex has to admit that this is real.
"There! That's your wakeup call!" Miku giggled. "Now write me some good tunes!"
"Got it, boss." Bex huffed.
She wanted to be productive and here she is, an eternal slave to a fictional singer. Now those horror stories of how Miku "fires" her workers all terrify Bex; every victim is killed in brutal ways, just like all creepypastas. It's a slow and painful death! I dare not go into detail for our sake.
At least Bex knows some ins and outs of the Vocaloid software and has locked away some ideas in her rotting brain. However, it's occupied by the fear of Miku's torture and murder methods. Thankfully she wasn't alone; people of every gender and race were in the building working nonstop.
"Miku!" a German boy called. "I finished your next song! I hope you like it, Your Majesty!"
"Good boy," she smiled. "Now let's take a listen."
He awaited anxiously until the song ended. Not a smile, only the face of disgust and disappointment were evident on Miku's face. The boy's heart sank; he loves his idol dearly and she isn't returning his love.
"Tell me, why did you come here?" she asked.
"Because I love you and I want to serve you!" he answered with tears in his eyes.
A hard slap hit the blonde boy across the face leaving a deep red mark. He crawls backwards as Miku floats off of her throne.
"If you love me so much, then produce songs I can tolerate!" she demanded. "This sounds like it was created by a tone deaf choir! If I hear another one of these atrocities blare in my eardrums, you will meet me in the back room."
"No, please! I won't let you down, promise!" he pleaded. "Just give me more time!"
But there was hardly any time; Miku was hungry for more music and she wasn't getting it. Her top notch producers get all the time they need because it's always a treat to receive music from them. The newbies however, don't get this luxury. How unfortunate for Bex and the German boy. Let's give him a name, Kevin! In reference to the owner of the Youtube channel 39dearMIKU.
He takes a glance at the new girl with bloodshot eyes and unkempt hair. She could tell he was in agony, but she couldn't do anything about it. The two dive head first back to work in hopes of satisfying Miku's hunger for songs. If they're lucky, some newbies will be able to help the poor souls with some hits. Bex was having no luck; she's not musically inclined like some of these producers.
All they could do was take the sounds of terror from the factory, the screams and pleas of their co-workers. Perhaps this is how they'll feed their dictator?