Tim was in a room, cornered by dank walls, and in front of him stood manikins. Zeebo observed from the outside, jotting down notes and checking marks onto a paper. Tim rigorously and viciously tore through each of the manikins.
"Now, Tim," Zeebo began, "There is a small child wandering about. Please attack it."
Tim froze and twitched his head. "I-I can't do such a thing," Tim said in a deep, masculine voice as he shrank his elbows.
"Don't worry, Tim, I'm merely testing you on your abilities. I have to engineer this virus to perfection, because if I don't one little error can cause a big change, and I cannot afford that. Luckily, time is on our side and I have no intentions of rushing this delicate process."
Zeebo walked over to his computer and typed in some notes and finally drew a test tube full of yellow and white chemicals into the serum and added some water. He then put it in a needle and injected it into Tim. Tim's teeth shown as he leaped and destroyed the child manikin.
"See, Tim? Patience. Without it, I don't know where I would be. But, I can't have an army of infected dogs. I need a liable Human subject," Zeebo said.
Tim finished gnawing at the manikin and bowed before his new Master.
"I am at your service, Your Exalted," Tim said.
"Now, now, don't need to be so diplomatic. We are not trying to be like Nazi Germany at this point, but rather oppose it."
"I do not question your statements at all, my Master."
Zeebo had a sign of annoyance but liked all of the majestic manners he was receiving.
"Loyalty, yes. I think I may have added a little too much," Zeebo said.
"Master?" Tim said, starting to shiver.
"What is it?"
"Well... I have memories... memories of... an old me."
Zeebo glared at Tim suspiciously and then snapped.
"But of course! Emotions. Memories of a dead man, or, in your case, a dead dog. Yes, as I said, there are defects that must be dealt with."
"I see... me, and a man I've seen before," Tim said, looking arduously into his vision.
Zeebo rubbed his chin and concentrated on Tim.
Tim finally inhaled deeply, taking it the mechanical oxygen that invisibly overtook the lair. He opened his red eyes and looked at Zeebo, who just awkwardly stared at him. "I-I'm sorry, Master," Tim said apologetically.
Zeebo rolled his eyes. "I hope humans have a better emotional quo than animals," he said. He walked over to a computer and typed in some notes.
"Anything else you request, Master? Any other tests?" Tim asked patiently. "Nope. I think that will be all, for the animal subjects of course. Humans still need to be dealt with. Any ideas on who we shall target?"
Tim gulped and shook his head. He finally said something. "A-Atticus?"
Zeebo grinned. "Atticus, the man who keeps my mother a slave and entraps her in that house. And those two brazen kids he raises. Pitiful how such precious creatures are wasted." Tim said nothing. He didn't need to. Zeebo had answered everything in a few words.
"How about this Dill Harris, a friend of theirs?" Tim asked.
"Dill? Who's Dill?" asked Zeebo.
"Well, he's a child who visits them about every summer and promises to marry Scout. If we can get ahold of him, all of Maycomb and his state will be under our... I mean, your, influence."
Zeebo leaned on a desk. "Yes, this Dill seems a worthy subject as well. What an... exotic name," Zeebo said, though the statement was better fit for a question.
"He can read, so he's not one of them dumb folks," Tim said.
"Stupid or not, children can be deceived easily. You wouldn't believe how many would fall for such tomfoolery."
Again, Tim did not answer and bit his lip to prohibit from talking.
Zeebo spun his heels, facing Tim. "Where does this Dill boy live?"
"I don't know, but he should be coming around by now."
Zeebo clasped his hands together. "We shall wait and see. In the meantime, keep fit and remember your skills. I will study more of my virus to make sure it is engineered to perfection."
Tim nodded and walked out of the room, taking a look back at Zeebo, who was now a vile master to him. He wasn't sure if this was the right choice or not, but a zombie, well, at least Tim, is always loyal to the master, or leader of the herd. Tim walked into the room, shut the door, and did his daily meditation, but was interrupted by haunting visions. He had the vision of being shot.
The neighborhood was quiet. The mockingbirds had flown away. Miss Stephanie Crawford had her nose glued to her window with Miss Maudie Atkinson right next to her. Inside the Finch residence, Jem, Scout, and their maidan Calpurnia worriedly watched Heck Tate shove the rifle into Atticus's palms. Tim, who was a figure of misdemeanor, approached them, hoping for some adequate cleaning water. It didn't take less than a nanosecond for Tim to realize Atticus pointed the rifle at him. Tim had began his maneuver, but Atticus nailed a bullet into his spine, paralyzing his whole body. The only thing Tim heard before he died was Atticus telling his boy not to go near the corpse for he was a dangerous dead as alive. From those words on, Tim proclaimed revenge. Then, Zeebo arrived. Zeebo collected his body. It just occurred to Tim that the man didn't toss the body into the truck without delicacy, but laid the body smoothly up on the other trash. He also poured some kind of chemical onto the spot where Tim had died. Then, the truck left the town and made a left into the woods where no one else, but Zeebo, dared to go. Tim sat there, and then, he awoke.
Tim slowly opened his eyes and stretched. "Atticus," he growled to himself. "Revenge. Revenge will be mine. I swear it." Tim walked out of the room and Zeebo was at a table, pouring some green liquid into the original serum bottle. "Blast it! Can't get any of these ingredients to cooperate with this serum," Zeebo said. Tim stiffly sauntered over and did some pouring and mixing and soon the serum swirled in a weird, gray mist. Zeebo laughed. "Genius! Pure genius!" But then he frowned. "But not perfect. If my creatures possess knowledge, they could overthrow me. Thank you, Tim, for warning me of this kind of effect." Zeebo ran to the computer and typed some more. "You seem troubled, Tim. I thought we had already discussed emotion," Zeebo said.
"I'm sorry, Master, but I'm disturbed about my old self."
"What did I tell you, Johnson? I told you not to remember that dog, the old Tim Johnson. You are a laborious peasant who solely is in bondage and servitude to me."
Tim nodded. "I apologize for thinking as well, Master."
"Enough with the darn sorrys! Sorrys won't win the world, Tim, only conquest. Little see this. Luckily, I was born with a brain. The old woman taught me to read. Well, won't she get a big surprise in the end."
"How can I evade these visions, Master?"
"I don't know, did you try meditating?"
"That's what caused it," Tim said dumbly.
"Look, Tim, I don't have time for this baloney, okay? I got a world to conquer and people to infect."
"But... earlier today you said-"
"Okay, okay, fine. You win. I really need to stop concentrating on so much strength and focus on the real stuff."
"Of course, Master. Now, let's start with revenge," said Tim, with a dull glow in his eyes.
