Sindhlot watched on his cameras as another band of heroes made their way to the control room. They approached his main computer. Excellent. They'd no doubt take care of themselves.

Warning! Do not push this button! That was what the rather large red button on the computer said. The generic mage-girl approached it and pushed it.

Crunch! Snap! Grind! "AIIIIEEEE!" CRACK!

The mage girl was ground to a pulp by a machine under the computer, which the mage girl had been dropped into for foolishly disregarding the warning. Really, how much more obvious can you get? The button says 'Do not push' on it for a reason. What'd they expect it to do, make his fortress explode? Come on, what kind of villain has a self-destruct button on their fortress? A dead one, of course. The kind who says, "You win this time!" or releases the hero who completes the 'unbeatable' challenge.

"My lord Sind… Sindhlochaugh!" The messenger began coughing furiously as he tried to pronounce the 'hl' in Sindhlot's name.

"Oh, very funny! What is it?"

"The, ah, heroes are in the inner sanctum and have given up on finding a self-destruct button." Sindhlot looked at the camera's recording. Apparently, they had begun pressing the buttons from a distance with a long stick, given up when they realized Sindhlot had disabled the computer, and simply left that area.
"Well, go kill them!"

"Sir, they already slew our weakest battalion single-handedly."

"So send our three strongest battalions."

"Yes sir."

The heroes were gunned down just in time for another band of heroes to make their entrance. They got caught by the C4 in front of the gate. Another band of heroes followed soon after, walking past the expended traps and barely avoiding the claymores on the minefield.

"In the name of all things unholy, is that other hero's entire extended family coming after me?" Sindhlot complained as he slung a bandolier of rifle ammo over his shoulder. He checked the hidden dart launcher in his sleeve, tested it on a servant.

Excellent, he thought as the servant fell to the ground. The poison was working perfectly. The heroes were good as dead. Just another day as overlord of the world…

He confronted the heroes in his 'waiting room' – a swinging platform suspended over a spiked pit.

Of course, Sindhlot wasn't going to even be on that platform.

The heroes confronted him as he entered.

"Surrender now and we'll be merciFUCK!" the hero said bravely as Sindhlot pressed a button labeled 'Disconnect Platform.' The platform hit a pillar in the middle of the pit, but the impact knocked the heroes off their feet. Sindhlot tossed a grenade into the pit and walked back out.


Blood splattered the back of Sindhlot's navy blue polo shirt as he dove to the ground.

"Damn! I'll have to take that to my drycleaner. Feh… if only magic had a way to dry-clean."

The hero dragged himself from the pit. "I'm not finished with you, you filthy piece of FUCK! Augh!" Twice now, he'd been interrupted as he was saying something with the letter 'f'. The dart hit him in the neck, and he fell back into the pit. He was dead before he landed on the spikes.

The shirt was cleaned and ready-to-wear by the next day, just in time for another band of heroes. They approached down the center path to his castle, getting caught in the middle of the minefield as it was activated.

"Well, shit!" Generic Hero 128 yelled.

"This is all your fault," Generic Antihero 128 Mk II complained.

Sindhlot stood on the roof, beating his gate sniper senseless and taking the rifle.

"You want something done right, you have to do it yourself…" Sindhlot muttered, aiming the sniper rifle. One shot, two shot, three shot, floor. The antihero, magic girl, and brute all fell to the ground, setting off land mines and blowing the hero away.

The next day, a hero rode to the gate, on a horse, alone to challenge him. Sindhlot checked the file. "Loner Hero 185. How quaint, he rides a horse. I know what my dinner is tonight…"

"Hail, Sind… Sindhl… SindhloAUCH!" Loner Hero 185 began coughing as he said the 'hl.' Sindhlot was getting sick of that. "Evil emperor! I do hereby challenge you to a duel! Fight me like a man!"

"I don't fight like a man, I fight like an evil emperor!" Sindhlot called back, heaving a massive chain gun between the ramparts of his castle.

Boom, boom, boom-boom, boom-boom, boom-boom-boom, boom-boom-boom, boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!

The chain gun ripped the hero's body apart, but Sindhlot's expert aim kept the horsemeat – I mean, horse – intact.

"Horseflesh: It's what's for dinner," Sindhlot quipped as he sent a team to bring the horse in and cook it. "Okay, that was stupid, actually." He turned to his staff. "Now, anyone who heard that is going to the targeting range."

It was well-known what 'going to the targeting range' meant. Anyone who couldn't hit a man-sized target from approximately 20 yards would be a man-sized target placed at 20 yards down the range.

Sindhlot captured a hero the next day, just for kicks. He tortured him for a few minutes, then asked the location of his base of operations, because damn he was getting sick of replacing his traps. And his guards.

But mostly his traps.

"My lord," a servant said, approaching Sindhlot. "A message."


"A young man in the border regions has begun a quest to end your reign. I fail to see the importance, however. He is but one man… what can one man do?"

"Well," Sindhlot replied, "there's always this." He reached into his polo shirt and pulled out a pistol, pressed it against the messengers head, and called for a janitorial crew as he blew the messengers brains across the floor.

The hero was, meanwhile, strapped to the very high ceiling of the inner chamber.

Sindhlot gestured to his lieutenant, Nosferatu. Nosferatu claimed not to be a vampire, despite his enormous veins, needle-sharp fangs, bald head, and pointed ears. Sindhlot would trust Nosferatu about as far as he could shoot him from, but no closer than he could stab him from.

The hero managed to pull out a gun and took aim at Nosferatu as his target walked across the floor.

Bam, bam, bam!

Nosferatu fell to the ground, clutching his torso. "This cannot be! Fool! I am invincible, there's no way you can defeat-…" Nosferatu was silenced – permanently – by two bullets in his head.

It should be noted at this point that, had he any desire to, Sindhlot could've killed the hero at any time. However, watching Nosferatu die was pretty fun, so he let the hero have his fun.

"You're next, SindhlAUCH!" Cough, cough, no surprise there. Asshole.

Sindhlot threw three razor discs, leaving the hero suspended from the ceiling by his left foot as the other three ropes were severed. The gun fell to the floor and fired, hitting some random servant. Big deal, servants were a dime a dozen anyway.

"Who's next?"


"Say my name and I'll let you live."

"Sindhl…. Sindhlot! HA! I did it!"

Sindhlot threw a final disc and severed the last rope. Sindhlot ensured the hero was thoroughly killed with four bullets in the head.

"But sir, you said you'd let him live," complained an advisor from the side of the room.

Sindhlot shot his head. "Did anyone else think I was being honest when I said that?"

Silence. Deafening silence.

"Good to hear. Er, not hear. Er, wait. Fuck. Never mind." Typical Sindhlot.

He went behind his cough for his nap – the best way to end a day of hero-killing.