Well, here is another fanfic, mentioned in my one-shot story in the Harry Potter section. I wrote this story back in March 2020 as COVID-19 reached pandemic levels. I did not really do much with it since I feel like it is not too original, but I decide to give it a chance. Anyway, I hope to publish the story (not the characters) on Wattpad. Still, I am doing it here first to gain some insight. Anyway, here it goes.
Any and all things to do with The Hunger Games belong to Suzanne Collins.
A/N: Those who previously read it, I accidentally publish my one-shot from the Harry Potter category. My apologizes.
Greedy Virus
Part I
"Come quick dear nephew, I want to show you something," Coriolanus Snow, the owner of a pharmaceutical factory, says to his nephew, who is also the plant manager.
"This better be good Uncle Coriolanus," he tells him sternly as he follows Snow, the factory owner, down a long dark hallway. "I have an important meeting with the board about our declining profits."
"Ah, that's why I brought you down here," Snow says approaching a set of gigantic dark doors. Snow takes out a keycard unlike other keycard, even the manager's, and opens the doors.
Inside, the manager is amazed by the lab and the scientists ushering from one station to another fiercely working on whatever they are working on. At a table, he reaches for a beaker that Snow takes away at the last minute.
"Are you crazy?" Snow yells at the manager as he sets the beaker back onto the table. Snow walks him away from the table. He then practically shoves the manager to a sink, making him wash his hands thoroughly.
"Uncle Snow, what the heck?" The manager asks, trying to dry his hands without help from Snow. "I just wanted to…"
"Well, it's too risky to let you handle anything down here," Snow tells him sternly. "Let the scientist and their helpers do their jobs."
"Okay, get off my back Uncle Coriolanus," the manager tells him. He is staring to become annoyed by Snow's antics. He does not say anything though, he has full faith in his uncle, and he is hoping he will turn the company around in time to avoid future bankruptcy or liquidation.
"Can you at least tell me what they're working on?" The manager asks pointing his finger towards the scientists.
"This way," Snow says sounding annoyed, leading the manager across the laboratory. After about a minute walk, they reach a set of elevator doors in the same darkness as the previous large doors. The ride up takes about five seconds before arriving in a simple but large office with a large window behind the old looking desk. The elevator door behind them closes with a clink before being covered by a large movable bookcase.
"I need to have the mechanics fix that door," Snow says while taking his place behind the desk on an ancient office chair.
"Okay Uncle Snow, we're up here, now what's happening with everything downstairs?" The manager asks.
"Shh…not so…" Snow starts.
"Dammit just tell me already!" The manager yells.
Snow raises his eyebrows at him trying to put him back in his place.
"Sorry…just impatient," the manager tells him meekly.
"Respect is earned, not given dear nephew," Snow sternly tells him. "As you told me downstairs, our profits are being flushed down the toilet, right?" Snow waits for his response, to which the manager nods his head.
"Well, this top-secret project," Snow continues, turning around to look out the window. The view offers him a bustling small town upfront; further up is a warehouse to the left, a superstore to the right; behind those buildings is a new graveyard with one or two graves with farms and orchids blossoming further back.
"Yes, what is it?" The manager impatiently asks after Snow drifts off in his mind.
"A virus," Snow simply tells him.
This statement leaves the manager confused with no words forming to comprehend it.
"Well, what do you think of my plan?" Snow eagerly asks him, like he is a child.
The manager rises out of his chair and paces back and forth with many thoughts bouncing inside his mind.
"Well to be honest…". The manager says hesitating on what to say. Eventually he asks him, "…Have you lost your mind?"
"Come again?" Snow asks feeling a little angry.
"Well, not only does this confuses me as we just make hand sanitizer, hand soap, disinfectant, and other similar stuff, but this raises gigantic ethical and moral issues."
"Well, listen," Snow says. "Yeah, we make only cleaning and sanitizing supplies, but the market is riddled with competition, including those stuck-up people in Racine, and too many healthy people who don't bother buying much cleaning supplies. We've tried every promotion offers we can think of, we created many commercials…I'm at my wit's end. Everything we done was for nothing; all the work I put in…thrown into the trash."
The manager just stands where he is taking in the words Snow tells him. True, everything they tried miserably failed, but to intentionally engineer a virus? Has desperation really set in?
"What will the board think about your plan?" The manager asks.
"My dear nephew," Snow says, turning around with a crazed look plastered across his face, the manager thinking he seen for a moment a hypnotic swirl in his eyes, but the brown color is soon present. "Are you thinking about talking to the board about my brilliant plan?
His question sends a horrible sensation down the manager's spine. As much as he hates Snow's plan…
"No Uncle Coriolanus…I won't," the manager relents.
"Excellent!" The owner rejoices as he rushes towards the bookcase with the elevator. "I'm going to check on the project to see how soon we can release it. Oh boy nephew, just think of the profits we'll make with people trying to clean this off their hands and surfaces."
Once the elevator door closes and the bookcase shuts in front of it, the manager bows his head, fearfully saying, "I hope this ends well Uncle Coriolanus."