Tracker Jackers: Creation

The scientist walked down the hallway, clipboard in one hand. He was sweating and his face was pale. By the time he got to his destination, a lonely door at the end of the hallway, his palms were damp with perspiration. He grabs the doorknob and enters the room.

A voice greets him. He returns the welcome. The dim lights barely illuminate the lab. The scientist walks past a series of containers holding precious experiments; also known as mutts, or muttations. He sets the clipboard down. He turned and walked back to the shelf with the containers. He slowly inspects each one. One held a small insect, with clicking pincers. Another had an odd looking bird. The scientist mutters under his breath, "…fifty-six, fifty-seven, fifty-eight…" The bird looks at him oddly, then, in a loud, obnoxious voice, it caws, "FIFTY-SIX! FIFTY-SEVEN! FIFTY-EIGHT!"

The scientist looks at the bird with a face full of hate. A jabberjay, they called it. The scientist ignored the loud cawing and turned his attention back to the containers. He comes to a small container with a large, golden wasp inside. He gently picks it up and brings it back to the table. His co-worker is holding an orange monkey with one hand and a syringe with the other.

The scientist turns his attention to the wasp. He had to get the right amount for this one. He just had to. The Capitol kept insisting that they needed a mutt that could kill and also "rob" memories. The wasp was way too small for a syringe. So, he moved the wasp container into a larger box. That larger box was airtight, except for a small hole, in which he fitted the nozzle of a small, clear tube. He turned his attention to the other end of the hose. He grabs it with sweaty hands and walks over to a canister of gas; he had modified the gas himself. He fits the back end to a valve on top of the tank. He takes a deep breath and opens the valve. He had no idea whether this was going to work or not. But he did the calculations himself and had triple checked them.

Hiiiissss. The sound of rushing gas jerks him from his thoughts. He looks at the wasp in the container. The wasp starts to buzz around the container noisily. His co-worker puts the now-drugged monkey into a thick steel cage. He walks over to the scientist.

"So, is it working?" he inquired the man.

"I think."

His co-worker walks away and exits the lab. The man is alone in this dark, gloomy lab. The wasp buzzes angrily. The scientist bites his lip. This HAS to work. It just has to. He takes the wasp container back to the shelf.

Then, he walks out of the room, turns off the dim light, and leaves his worries behind.

Several weeks later…

"Go, go, go!" A huge man screamed. The panicked scientist, fearing his job, charges down the hallways of the Capitol. His coat flying out behind him, he runs without stop until he reaches a door at the end of the hallway. Without hesitation, he yanks the door open and charges inside. He moves over to the shelf and inspects each one closely. He is completely out of breath. He finds a container with a large, golden wasp inside. He grabs it and charges back down the hallway.

"Where is he?" the burly man yells.

"Here, sir!" yelps the scientist as he charges into the room with the wasp. The man's eyes light up at the sight of the wasp.

"Yes", he murmurs, "a tracker jacker…"

The scientist gulps and makes a strangled sound. What if it didn't work? What would happen to his family? What would happen to him? He snaps out of his worries as the man walks over a large, stained, room with linoleum walls. Inside a bound rebel screams threats to the Capitol. The man walks into the room, opens the container and shoos the wasp out.

The wasp buzzes into the room. The rebel ignores the buzzing insect and stares at the man with eyes full of loathing. The loathing quickly turns to amusement as the wasp hovers in front of his face.

"What's this? A puny bee? You think you - GAARGGGH!" The last part was a scream because the tracker jacker decided to sting him. Once. Twice. Three times.

The rebel falls to the ground screaming in agony. "Yes… now, let's get the fool's memory."

Another man enters the room and slams the container down on the wasp. The, he brings it to a computer. Within moments, a video of a meeting in a badly lit room begins to play on the screen. The scientist breathes a sigh of relief.

The whole time, the rebel is screaming, the stings on his face the size of plums. Finally, as the scientist and the man watch the memories of invasion plans, the rebel stops screaming and lies silently on the ground twitching…