(0)
A leaden scent was impressed upon the damp, antiseptic air of that underground laboratory like the aftertaste of some macabre event, flowing about unhindered from deep, crimson cuts so precisely placed upon those unconscious, pubescent bodies, lined up neatly like toys in the making. And toys indeed they were for their creator, J.J Jimjone, who had so lovingly "plucked" them off the streets, and who had so mercifully "worked" on them, training them day and night in the art of servitude, so that they may be displayed in that great art exhibition, the slave market at the heart of the underworld; ServoMundi, the Great Baazar of All Things Black.
"Ah, My lovely little girls! How great it is to meet you today!", said J.J., as he closed the Plug Lids on those young scalps and pushed those terminal switches, activating the previously unconscious souls, now rendered to be little more than mindless automatons. "Let's play Pieddy Paip'er now! Line up you sensual Timingtrees! Line up!" Not one of them uttered a single word, for their tongues had been ripped apart from their mouths, replaced instead by a pleasuring device for their buyer to use. Not a whimper or a tear too, for their minds had been operated upon, rendering them as thoughtless as a comatose man. Hence the word "automatons". Machines with neither fear nor soul, neither future nor past, existing only to serve, and to suffer.
"Let'ssy get going now! To your new Famuelese! Wee wee!"— that was what the mastermind uttered before embarking on his way. Not a glint of remorse could be witnessed within his eyes. "Let'ssy let'ssy...."
(1)
"So, what's Tiramisu Maddames' orders for this humble thief?", babbled the eccentric slaver J.J., as he descended unto the bowels of Leviathan; the lair of Tiamat.
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"Her orders,", replied the Butler Rottcodd with a particularly bitter bile in his words,"are for you to stay still, and behave like a human."
"But I AM human.", said J.J. with the most gullible look on his face. Then, he barked at the top of his lungs, and laughed like a drunkard in a pool of wine. At such a display of childishness, Rottcodd could only sigh. How very much would he pay if only someone could off the mongrel....
"Oi Oi, looks like we've reached the Cavernous Cave of Tirasimusu Meddameś." Jolted out of his reverie, Rottcodd opened the hard light doors without so much as a single word, afraid that the madman would go on his rambling yet again. His fears, of course, were in vain. Even the great Jester knew to not enrage his mistress, The Demoness of Elru, Tiamat.
"Stay here.", said Rottcodd, as he made his way back into the elevator, relieved to have delivered his parcel. "And try not to ruin her work."
"Don't you worry, My Dear. See you soon!", replied J.J. with his usual sinister smile.
"I surely hope not.", replied an irritated Rottcodd
(2)
"Bring the Saint to me." Those were the only words that Tiamat uttered. Nothing more, nothing less. "Yes", replied the Jester feebly. His charisma had shattered the moment he entered Tiamat's domain, leaving only a scared mind incapable of protesting, much like his "Timingtrees" whom he had sold the same morning. Continuing, he said," He will be here by the next Solstice." A sigh was her only reply, and his cue to leave.
(3)
"Phew", said the Jester, now freed of that all-encompassing, bone-chilling aura, "I better hunt this Saint down." Despite the madness renewed within his voice, his body was still shaking from the encounter, though no reason could be found for that. "See ya, Mr Butte'lier." Rottcodd said no words in return, delighted instead by the fact that he had recorded the whole ordeal, and that, by the next week, every single soul in the Unterscape would be aware of the fact that their leader, their great, mighty leader, had cowered in front of a scrawny girl.
It was convenient that none knew about his mistress, for if they knew.......