1:37 AM Some warehouse just outside Las Vegas, Nevada
Thock! The fist collided with his face, snapping his head back violently. His head dropped, chin touching against his chest with his dirty, greasy, blonde hair dangling down over his face. He slowly lifted his head with a grin; a sadistic, evil, threatening grin. His for spoke, muffled through the black sky mask, "You will tell us where you hid the money or were going to kill you and than the rest of your little gang."
His foe was well over six feet tall and over two hundred pounds of muscle, clad in black jeans, a denim jacket and a black sky mask. Similarly, others stood around; all of them looking like clones of each other.
There was a slight pause, and the foe looked down upon the blonde haired man tied to a chair in front of him. He lifted the tied mans chin and spoke again, "Do you talk or are you just stupid? I thought that the leader of the notorious Minion's biker gang would be smarter than this. We know who you are...Apathy."
Apathy spoke this time, "If you know who I am, you should know that you're going to have to hit harder because you hit like a twelve year old school girl."
Another fist collided with Apathys face, causing it to snap back once again. He began to chuckle, almost hysterically and looked up at his interrogators. He could feel their confidence draining, being replaced by fear. He could hear their heartbeats speeding up, smell the salt from the sweat they began to produce; he grinned at the sudden change of events. The black tattoo on his back began to slither across his neck and down his arms as if it were agitated, excited. Then there was a snap; Apathy had broken free.
The room lay littered with the corpses of the interrogators, blood pooling all over the floor like the inside of a slaughter house. In the middle of the bodies stood Apathy; the black tattoo recoiling back from his arms and back to his shoulders and back again. He walked cautiously over the bodies, and grabbed the black leather vest hung up just by the door and threw it on himself. The shadowy enigma kicked the door up and as he left the light from over the door shined down upon the back of his vest. It displayed a patch; it read "Minions", with a white skull and black hand print on it just below the script.
An old chopper was started up, breaking the complete silence of the desert night and drove away under the blanket of stars with Apathy as its driver.