[ WP ] Pain is discovered to be the most efficient form of energy . It is ruled illegal , but secret human pain factories have already begun . You are the owner of one of these factories .

`` Garrison!'' I yell. 
 
 `` Yes?'' A slender hunched over man sheepishly replies. 
 
 `` Get the Hunters on the horn, It's Round Up time!'' 
 
 `` Very good, sir.'' The slender man sais, turning towards the door. 
 
 `` Oh, and Garrison.. Do n't you fuck this up.'' 
 
 `` Sir.'' 
 
 In the following hour, a group of about 34 armed men are waiting in front of the massive factory, many seemingly equipped in uniform, many armed with rifles, most are armed with machetes and axes. Some of these men are scarred, appearing to have been maimed in battle, some missing limbs, eyes, and teeth. 
 The commotion of the scene is quickly silenced as I walk up onto a platform, stationed in front of and just above the formidable crowd of killers. 
 
 `` LISTEN UP! The QUOTA today is 50!'' 
 
 `` 50!? There aint 50 within 15 miles!'' A raspy voice echoes out. 
 
 `` GARRISON!'' 
 
 `` Sir?'' Garrison quietly sais, his voice carrying over the mute crowd. 
 
 `` Kill that fucker.'' 
 
 `` Very good, sir.'' Garrison said, while focusing his gaze upon the man who challenged me. 
 
 Garrison begins walking down the platform, and quickly finds his way to the man. 
 
 Garrison moves like a well oiled killing machine, bare handed, landing blow after blow, the man falls to his knee. 
 
 `` STOP!'' The man finally yells, emptying his mouth of blood. 
 
 The plea falls on deaf ears, as Garrison reaches over the mans shoulder, and grabs the 22'' machete. Garrison begins hacking at the man's shoulder until his arm is hanging by a thread. 
 
 The man's open back is spraying blood, freckling the men around him with red specks. Garrison let's out a grunt as he swings the deathblow to the back of the mans head, cleaving it nearly in half, blood splatters from the mans mouth and then he collapses. 
 
 `` VERY GOOD GARRISON!'' I yell. 
 
 `` Sir.'' 
 
 The men are moving out, I stand overlooking the horizon, `` It's a good day to be rich Garrison.'' 
 
 ``..'' 
 
 The following morning, the men are herding dozens of men, women, and children double file, who are bound in rope. Many are bloodied, either from wounds or from people that died in the attacks or along the way. 
 Some of the Hunters are carrying bloody burlap sacks that are stuffed with delicacies of their kills, the fattest meats they can boil and fry. 
 
 `` Sir, the hunting party returns.'' 
 
 `` Very good Garrison. Prepare the stock.'' 
 
 `` Very good, Sir.'' 
 
 Machines begin to power on, and their whirring and clanging begin to fill the hollow like building. As people are marched into cramped containing areas, their pleads and screams begin to rival the noise of the machines. 
 
 `` Let's begin with something fun.'' I say to myself, scanning over the human cattle. 
 
 `` Garrison, bring me the two children, those right there.'' 
 
 `` Very good, Sir.'' 
 
 Two filthy kids, a boy, and a girl, both of the ages of 6 or 8 are ushered to me by the thin, greasy man, named Garrison. 
 
 I say in a calm, sweet voice, `` Would you like to go home?'' 
 
 Both say nothing. 
 
 `` Fine then, GARRISON! THESE TWO FIRST!'' 
 
 Garrison moves like a snake, quickly attacking the children, kicking them to the ground. He grabs them both by the necks with each hand, and drags them to a whirring machine, shaped like a box, with a large opening on both ends. 
 
 Garrison lifts the girl and throws her into the opening, several thuds are heard like a shoe banging around in a dryer. The girl falls out the other end, arms and legs twisted and broken, she's alive, her eyes blinking and her mouth gasping for air. 
 
 `` NOW THE BOY GARRISON!'' 
 
 Garrison looks at the boy, and a flash of his childhood takes hold of his imagination. He sees my figure, grabbing him, about to toss him into the machine like he did to the young girl. 
 
 `` I SAID NOW, GARRISON.'' 
 
 TO BE CONTINUED
