#roseredmutant

“I’d gotten a request earlier today,” you start calmly. “A request to give y'all somethin' to bitch about.” Your pink painted lips smile. “I gotta admit, a girl gets tired of absolute complacency after a couple of millennia. So it was refreshin’ to see someone try and egg me into a fight.”

>You pick up a needle with a twisting end at the edge of it. You open the end, only to reveal there to be a smaller needle in it.

“But as I said before,” you continue as you clean the needles in alcohol, “I’m busy. I’m sure you could imagine with what.”

> With a nod of your head, you motion below you. The camera follows. Strapped to a medical table, unmoving and wide awake was a familiar troll with fluffy black hair, bright red eyes and small rounded horns.

“I think it’s fair to say now,” you continue off-screen. “Our species is four brats short of extinction, one a them ... surprisingly, being a descendant of Kankri’s!” You bark out a laugh before pressing his face to the table further. “Of course... he’d know. He always seemed one step ahead of me.”

> He tries to escape, thrashing around with his eyes closed tight. With him thoroughly tied to the table, he doesn’t even manage to budge.

“I ain’t gonna kill ‘im! I know for SOME reason, some of you like this pathetic fuck and he’s more useful to re-population alive than dead.”

> Your hand brushes through his hair. He winces away, eyes tearing up as he tries to calm himself.

“I’ll keep him nice and healthy. A good diet... Regular check ups...”

> You lift the needle.

“Blood tests.” > And slam it down into his exposed hip bone.

> He screams loud. The mic peaks, hisses, buzzes-- the person holding the camera gets startled and jolts it around, it falling to the ground. For a while, your feet in glittering pink heels and the legs and wheels of many tables and chairs are all that’s seen.

> After a little while, the camera is lifted, shaking as it refocuses on the punctured, squirming troll on the table. You, however, seem perfectly fine, if not a little annoyed.

> With your psionics, you unscrew the needle, attack a syringe and extract from the hollow needle still planted in the small mutant. It fills with bright red fluid. You visibly gasp at the color. Bright mutant red, the likes of which you’d only dreamed of spilling.

> It’s beautiful... And now? It’s yours.

> You fill another, repeating the process a few times. Another assistant, just now seen, shows you a few pieces of glass with the almost blinding blood on it. You nod in approval. Nice big sample sizes. Then you give them orders to send the samples off, which they do quickly.

> Clean up? You wave a deceptively dainty hand in front of the camera, place your palm over the clear puncture wound and leave it there. Green light pulsates through your digits as he struggles under your hand again. When you remove it, it’s gone.

> You take the camera. Point it at your face. And smile.

> You end the recording. Nothing more needs to be said, as far as you’re concerned.

> With some editing (a pink, glittering heart in the corner of the video) you upload the video and post it on your blog.