A little ways ahead, Hank turned a corner. His hand was firmly clamped on the arm of the clone as though she might run at any moment, despite the smooth look on her face. He had that stupid human's attention now! All he had to do was draw him in a little closer for the taking.

Of course, it was always easy to point guns and order them about but sometimes the psychological affects of playing with them was all the more rewarding.

Hank opened the door of a cleaner's storeroom and roughly pulled her in. The door shut moments before there was a muffled cry and a delicate thump. Hank cleaned his blade with a handkerchief, watching with satisfaction as a crimson stain bloomed over her stomach. So many clones had been made over such a short time that the sacrifice of one would hardly be noticed. Besides, ending their lives was almost more fun than capturing humans. He felt like a god.

He flicked a hidden switch and the back of the cupboard rolled away, opening up an interdimensional doorway to his ship as it orbited the miserable Earth. Green flashing lights blinked at him in the semi-darkness of the cupboard. He gave the dying clone a smirk and stepped away, shutting the door behind him.