III

THE BEAST

"Great work, Mrs. Calliope!" the Gamemakers cheered in tandem. Relief flooded her in waves as she began to swim upward toward the hatch.

She never made it."


Theodora had never been more nervous in her entire life.

Sure, worrying about if the dinner guests noticed if the food was slightly overcooked was a close second, and so was that time she thought she left her toaster-microwave on, and that time as a kid when she broke her mother's favorite vase, or maybe when she thought she couldn't find her sunglasses when in reality they were on her head, or maybe-

Yeah, needless to say, Theodora was a nervous person.

So she had no idea what in God's green earth she was doing here.

In the Muttations Laboratory. Five feet across from a creature that kill her with one snap of its jaws.

She had begun work here less than a month ago, hired as a housekeeper and chemical dispenser. She wasn't nervous around chemicals, no, it was just those tiny little domestic oopsies that set her off the edge. The things that would affect the only thing that really mattered… what everyone thought of her. I mean, who wants to hang out with a klutz who forgets about that loose bottom step on the stairwell, or the woman who loses her super expensive designer rings pretty much constantly? No one. The mere thought.

On a hot, humid summer morning, Theodora Calliope began life as usual. She struggled into those high heels she had to have (even though they were a size too small), her best lacy frock with the cute little snowflake patterns that always got her compliments on the street, and sprayed a copious amount of hair product into her bright green curls. She reached over to put her sparkly pink contacts in her eye, meticulously applied her eyebrow extensions, and clipped on the fifty carat diamond earrings her darling husband George bought her last month to apologize for his affair with that little slut Herminia (that woman wasn't even attractive).

She made her queen-sized bed, fluffed the goosefeather pillows, and planted a quick peck on George Calliope's wrinkled forehead. He gave a small grunt, swatted her away, and rolled over, spilling his drool everywhere.

Disgusting man. I swear, if the money ever runs out, I'm gone faster than he can blink.

She hobbled downstairs, petting her purebred poodles as they ran up to greet her, cooing at them in farewell as she hopped out the door in her five inch heels. Her car gleamed at her from the driveway, its lean, cherry red, aerodynamic body glittering there as a trophy for all the world to see. The savages squalloring around in District 3 sure knew how to make a good car. If only they would learn the basics of hygiene, too.

She waved at Mrs. Ursula across the street, stooped inside, and drove off toward the Laboratory. The candy-colored buildings of the Capitol flew past her window in a spritely blur, and the pedestrians strutting down the flower-lined sidewalks were just as lively as the architecture, conversing in their outrageous accents and making even more absurd gesticulations.

Ah yes, life as it should be.

Theodora shuddered as the thought of District 3 re-entered her conscience. She couldn't imagine how human beings could live in the filth, and how they could be so ugly. Why, in some of the pictures the Capitol citizens flaunted of the Districts to brag about their riches, she could even see the ribs of some of them! How undignified and offensive!

Her commute lasted a convenient twenty minutes, giving her just enough time to finish that podcast on baking three-tier cakes. She pulled up into the employee parking of the Laboratory, flipped off her aviator sunglasses, and pressed the button on the center console. Immediately, the roar of the engine ebbed away to a faint whine before ceasing to emit any sound at all. The radio turned off, her seat warmers reset, and her passenger side door flipped open like a mechanical chauffeur. She put one foot on the ground, then another, and rose out of her car and headed for the Laboratory.

The building was hauntingly sterile, devoid of any form of decoration, but still the walls were completely covered with the crazed drafts of the deranged little scientists that ran this place and elaborate blueprints. Cryopods lined the walls of the entrance hall, housing some poor folk selected from the Districts to be frozen indefinitely and then experimented upon.

She got to work at her station… the sink. Under any other circumstances, this job would be undignified, but anything involved with the Hunger Games was considered to be prestigious. It was the grandest spectacle known to mankind, after all. You had to know someone on the inside who knew someone on the inside who knew someone on the inside to land a job preparing for the Games at all.

She set to work, putting on her protective gloves and pulling an aspirator on over her head to rest the mask down on her neck. She didn't really need it, per se, but the entire Laboratory staff was required to wear one… in case of horrible, deadly emergency. Although, according to the cheery yellow sign posted across from Theodora on the wall, THIS FACILITY HAS BEEN EMERGENCY FREE FOR 176 DAYS.

As she scurried around, minding her own business and the like, the well-trained ears of a busybody perked up as she heard an approaching group of scientists sweeping down the hall. This was odd. She never usually saw anyone here since all the waste that needed disposing of was dropped off at the end of the workday.

"I'm telling you, Augusta, President Pollux is not going to be happy about this," some male voice, squeaky enough to belong to a teenager, rang out. "Agatha was the best on our team."

"Oh, you know very well President Pollux doesn't give a damn about anyone in this place. As long as we find a replacement, quick, he won't even have to know about it." came the reply of Augusta Romaine, Head Gamemaker. Theodora straightened. If she was involved, this must be a very juicy bit of happenings.

"Yeah, but where are we gonna find a replacement? It's not like we can walk out on the street, grab someone by the arm and say 'great, you're a genetic scientist now'." Someone shot back. This one was deep, gruff.

The trio rounded the corner, shooting Theodora a quick glance. She squeaked and hurriedly returned to her work, blowing a single strand of pea green hair out of her eyes. Their chatter stopped.

In her peripheral, she could see them exchange glances.
She didn't like that.

"Theodora, right?" Augusta prompted.

"A-ah, yes ma'am," Theodora replied, whipping around to face the group of Gamemakers. They were a varied bunch. Augusta stood tall and gangly with her light pink hair twisted up in a high ponytail, a young ginger man that didn't look like a day over eighteen bounced on his heels, and an elderly gentlemen scowled through his unruly corona of aquamarine hair. They all had one thing in common, though… their eyes were trained on her.

"Theodora, how would you like a promotion?" the ginger kid asked.

Theodora blinked once. Twice. Three times. And then her face lit up like a puppy who just heard 'walk'.

"Are you kidding? I-I would love a promotion!" she exclaimed, clapping her gloved hands together. "It's about time I started moving up the ladder! I've been working for too long! Three years it's been!"

"How would you like to be promoted to an entire other field of work?" The elderly man added, raising a single pierced eyebrow.

A… what?

"An entire other field of work? What do you mean? You mean, like, cleaning the actual mutation rooms instead of the cryopods?" Theodora asked quietly.

"Something like that," Augusta replied, her tone darkening ominously.

And here she was, in the Muttations Laboratory. She wasn't cleaning chemicals, no, and she wasn't mopping floors either…

She was staring into the sleeping face of a fifteen-foot-long sea creature.

It was housed in a square plexiglass enclosure, filled with gallons of the cleanest see-through water she had ever laid eyes on. Its head was that of the face of a crocodile- she had seen a crocodile before in some of her brother's books- and its gargantuan jaws were lined with countless rows of teeth that bristled like arrow points. Its webbed feet laid out before it, beholding foot long claws that curved at the tips like powerful, natural scythes, and its scales protruded from its body so sharply they themselves appeared to be weapons. She placed a small, shaking hand to the cold surface of the glass, her breathing rattling in her chest. She dug in her pockets and pulled out her small aspirator and took a hit, allowing the air to rush back into her lungs.

Her hand wasn't even the size of its claw. Its head adorned eight sets of eyes, closed and sunken into its head, and tusks like a boar protruded from its maw among the conglomeration of teeth.

In her other hand, she held a small syringe filled with blood-colored liquid.

That she was supposed to inject into this… this thing.

She stood before a metal-runged ladder, fully clad in diver gear. She was equipped with many precautionary defensive plates, the Gamemakers had assured her, mostly just for her peace of mind. She was to climb the ladder, enter the tank, and find the chink in the muttation's armor near the base of its nape. It would be unmistakable, they assured her.

"W-what if it… w-wakes up?" she asked in a quiet, shaky voice. The tremble in her limbs had made it up to her vocal cords, apparently.

"It won't, it's under extremely heavy sedatives. If it does, though, we have certain protocols in place to protect you," Augusta's voice buzzed in her ear through her small comms device.

Mind telling me what those are? She willed to ask the question, but her voice failed her.

"You may begin the ascent now, Mrs. Calliope," the young man's voice tuned in next. Taking a deep breath, she raised one hand, tentatively wrapping it around a rung. Then her other hand. Then the first hand again. Second hand. First hand. Second hand. First.

And she was at the top. She extended a shaking foot across the plexiglass and sheepishly shifted her weight down. The transparency of the glass made it seem as if there was nothing there at all to support her and she was merely flying. Bile clawed up her throat, but she forced it down again.

"Sh-sh-sh-should I open thuh-the hatch now?" Theodora buzzed in. She was high above the three Gamemakers stationed down below her, so high up she couldn't even see them when she looked down.

"Yes, Mrs. Calliope, you should. Descend carefully into the water."

She reached a hand out to the hatch in the top of the enclosure. She made to free the latch, but her fingers were trembling so badly they lost their grip and fell to her side again. She waited almost an eternity for her heart to stop rattling painfully against her ribs and tried again, and this time she maintained her hold. She unlatched the hatch, closed her eyes, and descended into the water.

Her frantic breath clouded the scuba helmet placed smugly on her head. The water already made her slow, and the suit wasn't helping, as big and clunky as it was. It must have been internally heated or something, because now she was inside she saw a thermometer stuck to the very back corner reading ten degrees.

"Alright, you're halfway done already. Locate the chink in the armor," the elder informed her. Theodora shot back a futile nod, swimming over to the beast.

As she got closer, she could better inspect the animal's scales. They were that of vipers, undeniably sharp to the touch. She could now notice a raised ridge of spikes along its spine, too, that were battered back and forth by the circulation of the water. It looked as if it could detach these elevated, keen spines at high velocity... able to shoot them like porcupine quills.

She didn't want to look around and find any more weapons that could easily kill her. So she went to work.

As she scuttled over to the base of the monstrosity's neck, she could indeed see the aforementioned weak spot in the scales. It was "small", nearly the size of her poodle at home, flat on its neck. She readied the syringe.

"You have to do this quickly, Theodora," Augustus urged. "Disturbing the subject for longer than is necessary is to be avoided at all costs."

Was that… a warning? Theodora couldn't tell. Her brain was in a strange sense of stupor, utterly detached from what her hands were doing and the raging anxiety in her nerves. Maybe she was too terrified to process how terrified she really was.

The blood-red liquid looked more like dark brown now. It had congealed, too, forming clots along the sides of its container. Was it… actual blood?

She didn't care. The sooner she got done with this, the sooner she'd take an early leave and go home to her poodles and cry.

She took a breath and counted down from ten. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2…

One!

She screwed her eyes shut so tightly she saw yellow spots and plunged the thick syringe needle-first into the exposed flesh. She pushed it down, and the liquid was injected into the… monster.

She floated there, eyes closed, every muscle tensed, for a good ten seconds. She was sure... absolutely positive it would awaken and snap her in half.

But it didn't.

"Great work, Mrs. Calliope!" the Gamemakers cheered in tandem. Relief flooded her in waves as she began to swim upward toward the hatch.

She never made it.

The beast's eight eyes snapped open in perfect harmony, a deep growl rumbling in the depths of its throat. Its entire body shuddered as it rose to its two stubby feet, snapped its entire neck backward, and grabbed Theodora Calliope by her foot. In one fierce jerk, her leg was removed from her body in an explosion of warm blood and the heart-wrenching sound of many tendons snapping at once, torn quickly and effortlessly off like the wing of an insect. Theodora opened her mouth to scream but the sound died in her throat as a single chomp of its jaws severed her clean in half. Her torso and the remains of her legs floated down separately to the bottom of the tank, painting a horrible banner of crimson in its wake.

By the end of the night, the cheery yellow sign read THIS FACILITY HAS BEEN EMERGENCY FREE FOR 0 DAYS.


A/N: As soon as I have a full District, I will begin writing the reapings! Sorry for yet another prologue!