The story of Minh
He stands overlooking the city. It’s hot…so damn hot. Minh stands there smoking contently. There’s a look in his eye, a quiet violent rage, his stare goes for a million miles. Every single person to ever cross him is on his mind. He reminisces on the day he got revenge on all of his enemies. It’s been a decade since that day…it still feels like yesterday. God help their souls.
He’s alone at the top of that tower. No one to keep him company but his stranglehold on his empire. No one will take what he’s built. He’s seen to much to fall for any tricks. His empire was built with his hands and bullets and blood. The foundation of a sturdy home.
Since the day Minh served his own particularly menacing brand of justice on those that would challenge him, the world has averted their eyes to his heinous and sweeping take over of all commerce within the city limits.
The city of Gotham has been his for close to a decade now. He killed Bruce Wayne, the charismatic billionaire. He killed the Joker because he was sick of the chaos. Batman is nowhere to be found. The city belongs to Minh. There will be no reckoning, there will be no uprising, there will only be ruler Minh. His discipline has kept him at the top after his rage got him there. Fear is for other people.
Sharks in the Sky
A helicopter forms off in the distance. Military grade. Quietly moving amongst the clouds above the city, with enough explosive noise in it’s payload to take out an army. Minh waits for them. They get closer. Minh continues to smoke his cigarette. The wind whipping around the rooftop of the old Wayne Tower (now Tower Minh) doesn’t have the balls to blow out the amber lit at the end of his smoke. The chopper gets close. It has sharks teeth painted on it. A vision of death. A sidecar to madness. Minh calmly lifts a bazooka from the floor next to him. He flips open the sight and nestles it on his shoulder. Like he’s done it a million times.
The chopper unloads a barrage of phosphorus automatic rounds. They pierce the roof of Tower Minh (formerly Wayne Tower), he doesn’t move. He keeps the flying shark chopper in his sights. Bullets shatter the ground around him and he doesn’t even blink. His heart rate hasn’t risen even a beat. The heat from the onslaught only calms him. War is what he is most comfortable with. The teeth on the chopper become pronounced as they get closer and closer. Minh still has that cigarette, smoking boldly, pinched in the corner of his mouth. Drawing his prey in closer. He likes to see the eyes of his enemies when he snuff’s them out.
Finally, as if Minh was playing a game of chicken with the God of Death, he waits until the last perfect second to fire that rocket resting on his shoulder, never dropping his smoke.
The chopper exploded no more than twenty yards from him. The shark toothed craft erupted in a ball of fire engulfing the side of the building. Hot steel and boiling bones of his attackers are strewn around him. Toasting and smelling of death. Minh simply exhales a large plume of smoke from his cigarette and realizes he is late for dinner with his son.