I rapped my fingers on the desk. This desk had been with me through all of my expeditions. On the other side of this desk was Charles, his hair a mess of yellow lying on his head. He was holding a hat in his hands, and he was quivering with fear. Fear of me. Fear of all that I had become. I, Dr. Manslaughter, was ruler of the world. I singlehandedly ruled the world with an iron fist. This Charles, this wimp was nothing to me. I could have him done in with a shake of my hips.
I stood slowly, powerfully. I allowed Charles to take in the glory that was me. I turned and pointed my robotic arm towards him. I spoke, my accent was thick, German.
“Vhat iz it zat you vant?” my voice was powerful and at the same time, beautiful.
Charles shook as he spoke, obviously intimidated.
“I…. I need a favor, sire…”
A slammed my metal arm on the table.
“A favor? Are you mad?! Take him avay!”
My two henchman came and took Charles (who was screaming bloody murder) from my quarters.

That’s when I woke up.

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