The Boy Who Became a Minion

1nich0las's fanfic

A minion. That's what he'd dreamed of being. Those little yellow pills were so utterly flawless. So ultimately pure yet so terribly otherworldly. But he knew what he wanted- nay- what he needed. And what he desperately needed was to become a minion.

His friends thought he had gone crazy. His family grew worried. His delusions of these make-believe creatures had become so pressing it had begun interfering with his personal life. At school he wouldn't do any of the work he was assigned nor listen to his teachers. He was too busy doodling minions. The staff intervened and tried taking away his notebook? No biggie. He used the desk. His pencils were confiscated? That's alright. He bit his tongue so hard it bled and let the blood dry and crust onto his arms like a sick tattoo.

The school eventually phoned his parents. Told them to get him to counseling. They couldn't allow him on their premises any longer.  He was "scaring the other children", "a danger to his peers".  Bah, humbug. What'd they know? They just didn't understand what he needed. None of them did. 

He spent his days at home, caged away in his room. Who needs school anyway? It was just another distraction. His mother leaving grilled cheeses outside his room? A distraction. Television? A distraction. Sleep?- Must I say it?- Another distraction. 

After months of tirelessly slaving away at his desk his master plan had bloomed to its full fruition. His fantasies would soon become a reality. All this time locked away from the outside world he spent laboring- building a machine the nation would come to know as the Minionator 3000. A complex intricacy of wires and knobs, gears and pipes. It was his master creation. It was the machine that would transform him into the perfect being. 

Stepping into the capsule, his heart beat wildly- practically bursting through his chest- hammering inside his locked ribcage. This was the moment he had spent his whole life preparing for. The moment he would finally become a minion.

The instrument heaved. Smoke bellowed out from the sides and filled the container. It felt suffocating. Sweat dripped down his forehead and into his mouth, but he loved the taste. It was the flavor of victory.  

His body began changing- his insides grotesquely shifting. He could feel his limbs weaken as his bones dissolved in the heat. Double vision blinded him as his eyes pushed their way together and he screeched in pain. No matter how much it hurt, though, he couldn't quit. Not now. Not after making it this far. He understood he must finish the process to fully evolve.

His ears started ringing as his torso sluggishly absorbed and ate away at his neck- the last thing he smelled was his own agony before his nostrils were sealed shut by a layer of new skin. 

With the pod airtight and no way for oxygen to reach his crushed lungs, his body's remaining strength progressively deteriorated; taking any will he once had with it. The transformation he'd worked toward for so long was too much for him to handle any longer, and he could feel his brain start to shut down. He pounded his disfigured, yellow hand on the glass as blackness enveloped his senses. But the trauma he was living was too grusome. He fell onto his bent knees as the world- and his dream- slipped through the cracks of his fingers.  

...

The funeral became national news. Viewers from every corner of the world flocked to their televisions and car radios to hear the story of the boy who had become a living, breathing minion; if only for a few anguished moments. 

Photos of the corpse were withheld from the majority of the public- although if you were slick, you could purchase pictures of the rotting creature's body from the dark web for a hefty fee. Soon enough, however, some unfortunately got leaked into mainstream media, where they were inevitably used for shock value, and, in some cases, twisted internet memes. 

In the end, 1nich0las had gotten what he'd always wanted. He had achieved the impossible. He had become- what was to him- the perfect being. 

He had killed himself to become a minion.