Herne hated newbies. He hated having to train them, get rid of their delusions of autonomy, and their smug attitudes. Every single one seemed to have the same God’s gift to this Earth attitude that needed deflating. And it looked like the latest one wasn’t any different. He watched as the guards brought the new one in. What were they calling him? Arawn. Yes. Herne checked his semi-automatic as Arawn was brought in, handcuffed. The grub had actually managed to escape the facility and lead Herne’s team on a merry chase before he was brought in.
And now he was supposed to be on Herne’s team. They said he was under control. That safeties had been put into place. This wasn’t reassuring at all. After all, that’s what they said before he had escaped.
Arawn was sat on the rickety chair in front of Herne and his handcuffs taken off. He rubbed his hands and looked around. Herne could tell that he was thinking about trying to bolt. Best to put a stop to that.
He clicked off the safety and put the gun to Arawn’s head. All the blood drained from the grub’s face.
“Now then,” Herne began pleasantly, “I remember the fact it took us a week to find you and recapture you again. It was one of the more aggravating weeks I’ve had. I don’t like trying to find worthless pieces of junk like you when I have other things to do. I also know that the higher ups think that you will be a worthwhile addition to my team. As they are the higher ups, I have to do what they say. But I have this to say to you. If you even put a single hair out of line I will kill you. Despite what the higher ups say. Because I am more valuable to them than you are, so I can get away with these things.” He pressed the gun’s barrel against Arawn’s skull. “I do hope we have an understanding.”
Arawn nodded, his eyes never leaving Herne’s face.
Herne pulled the gun away and clicked the safety back on. “Excellent.”