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Monster of the Week: EP10
Welcome to the latest installment of Monster of the Week, a Sci-Fi/Fantasy serial where we follow Scrub and Scratch, a pair of Bounty Hunters traveling the galaxy and ridding it of terrifying beasts. If this is your first time, you can click the links below to start from the beginning, or the directory will take you to a list of my other fiction.
Last time, on Monster of the Week: Scratch and Maria fought their way through a zombie infested secret lab in the hopes of getting a cure for the mysterious illness slowly killing Scrub. But they found more than they had bargained for. Now, Gabriella is enlisting them to help with something bigger than any of them.
Happy Hunting!
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“What do you mean ‘Scrub isn’t here’?! Where is he?”
“He’s gone. We’ll have to do it without him.”
The Previous Day
“I can’t believe you would do this to me,” Scrub said. His recovery had been nearly instantaneous but even a week later he was still a bit pale and had deep bags under his eyes. He was sitting with his arms crossed behind Scratch, who was fiddling with the video conferencing equipment. “How can you still be talking to her?”
“I know how hard it can be to ask your ex for help, but if it wasn’t for her, you’d be dead now. So can you please fight through the awkwardness and just hear her out?” Maria said as she sat down next to Scrub.
“Okay, what?! Who said she’s my ex? She is not – absolutely not – someone I would EVER – She tried to kill us!” Scrub stuttered, pointing the last reminder back towards Scratch. “Maybe we should lead with that part next time? About how she’s a crazy space pirate who tried to kill us! And now you’re what, pen pals? Exchanging holiday cards? Am I suddenly the voice of reason here?”
“That’s enough,” Scratch said, calmly cutting through Scrub’s frantic objections. “She helped us save you. And she’s been more than apologetic about the whole ‘threatening to kill us and steal our ship’ thing. Now she’s got something that she says is mutually beneficial, so I think it’s only fair that we hear her out.”
Scratch ended the argument by initiating the call. Gabriella appeared on the screen, sitting regally at the head of a large, wooden conference table flanked on both sides by an array of people in various degrees of pirate gear.
“Scrub! It’s so good to see you. You have no idea how worried we all were for you. I’m sure Scratch is –“
“Save it,” Scrub cut her off. “Just get on with your little sales pitch.”
“Ahem, right,” Gabriella’s smile didn’t waiver. “So, with all the data you were able to pull from the late Dr. Marcire’s lab we’ve come to some pretty grim realizations. Icarus Lab equipment has been reallocated from tech research to bio-engineering.”
Maria felt a petty, smug satisfaction blooming at the sight of Gabriella’s face finally souring at the admission about her former company’s current dealings. Maria pushed the feeling down as Gabriella continued.
“It would appear that the reason the Collector business has been able to grow exponentially as it has in the last few years is because Icarus Labs – possibly with backing by the Federal government – has been manufacturing monsters of all kinds. Now, they’ve begun kidnapping people and turning them into beasts as well.”
“That’s terrible!” Maria said, her smug feeling sinking like a rock into the pit of her stomach.
“How do we stop them?” Scratch asked.
“Stop them?” Scrub scoffed before Gabriella had a chance to answer. “We don’t. How could we? Besides, why would we want to? That’s how we get paid.”
“What do you mean ‘why’?!” Scratch demanded. “Didn’t you hear her? They’re turning people into monsters!”
“That’s low even for you,” Maria added gravely. “But maybe he has a point. It does seem a bit out of our control. Especially considering What’s His Face can teleport and has a magic, murder knife.”
“His name is Morgan Moody,” Gabriella said – her face contorting as if the syllables stabbed at her on the way out. “He’s the one who stole my company from me and now he’s using it for this. But thanks to you, we now have an antidote for the knife. We’re already in mass production over here. I know you all can make a few for yourselves as well. As far as how, that’s what we need you for.
“The data we have does have information on the teleportation tech from the giant panther beast. So we know how it works. There’s also references in here on a device that can neutralize it. Unfortunately, the information on the device itself is redacted. Most likely, since he underwent the same procedure, he’s got that info under lock and key in his private office. So we need you three to go break into his office and get whatever information you can on the device. If you can get your hands on the device itself– even better.”
“It sounds like we’re doing all the work. What are you doing? Drinking margaritas and luring more unsuspecting pilots to their deaths?” Scrub asked bitterly.
“No, truth be told, that’s really just a distraction. While you’re digging through the office building, we’ll be hitting three of their main production facilities. We’ll call in to the police right before the attack to alert them of a break in. When the police get there, they’ll see all the illegal genetic experimentations. They’ll be caught red handed.” Gabriella smiled into the camera, waiting for the Collector trio to respond.
“But why us? Clearly they already know our faces. Wouldn’t it make sense for one of your recruits to go into the office space?” Scratch asked.
“I figured seeing Scrub here alive and well would add a little extra insult to injury. Maybe force Moody to make a mistake.” Gabriella said. “And besides, I figured you’d like a little payback.”
Everyone subconsciously turned towards Scrub. He hated all those eyes on him.
“I need you to calm down, you’re freaking me out a little bit,” Scratch said as he side-eyed Maria bouncing nervously on the balls of her feet. They were waiting in line in the lobby of Beaker Grumman, the government contractor that had liquidized Icarus Labs and the current home of one Mr. Morgan Moody’s main office.
“I’m sorry,” she hissed between her teeth. “But I can’t just casually walk into what is probably a literal lion’s den, flashing our faces on purpose and hoping to find the one thing that will stop the guy who owns a monster making factory.”
“Well you’re gonna have to. The whole plan kinda rides on it.”
Maria considered stabbing the feline before closing her eyes and breathing deeply until her heart rate lowered slightly.
“I know. It’s just… I can’t believe Scrub isn’t here.”
“Yeah, it’s definitely not ideal.” Scratch agreed.
“I just thought… I don’t know. This is important. Why wouldn’t he want to be here? Doesn’t he care?”
“He does care. Deep...deep, deep down. He just has trouble showing it sometimes.” Scratch answered, but his gaze was distant. Before Maria had a chance to respond they were called to the front desk.
The Previous Day
“No.”
“Scrub, what do you mean ‘No’?” Scratch asked.
“I mean no. I’m not doing it. He already almost killed me once. Why should I stick my neck out for a bunch of people too dumb to not get kidnapped and experimented on?” Scrub got up angrily from his chair and stormed off. His dramatic exit diminished slightly when he had to grab the door frame on his way out to steady himself.
“Don’t worry about him. We’ll talk to him. This is too big to ignore,” Scratch said. He looked to Maria for confirmation and she nodded. “I’m sure Scrub just needs some time to think it over.”
“Well, you have 24 hours. We need to hit them fast before they have a chance to catch on.” Gabriella’s face was solemn when she cut off her vid screen.
She didn’t know how they did it, but Maria and Scratch managed to make it into the mysterious man’s evil lair. It was surprisingly mundane. Maybe that shouldn’t be so surprising, she thought. You don’t get to be an evil mastermind by just plastering a big neon sign above your desk that reads ‘El Diablo.’ At least she didn’t think so. But honestly, if that’s not how you get a big government contract, what is?
Scratch immediately ran to the computer sitting on the otherwise empty desk. No decorations, no pictures of loved ones or of himself on fancy trips. Not even work papers. Maria busied herself by rummaging through drawers and cabinets, mostly just to be doing something. She was sure whatever there was to find here would be on the computer.
“Shit, I’m locked out.” Scratch said.
“Come on now, you got this,” Maria said hopefully. “What do you need?”
“He needs to leave,” a voice from behind her made her jump. It was droll, irritated, and strangely foreign. Maria turned to find a man in round sunglasses and a red trench coat.
The Previous Day
“Hey, can we talk?” Maria asked. She stood tentatively at the door to the kitchen, watching Scrub lean weakly against the far counter.
“No,” Scrub answered.
“Well, too bad,” Maria said, rolling her eyes as she strode into the room and sat down at the table. “What’s gotten into you?”
“A knife. That’s what got into me,” Scrub said. “Did we all suddenly forget that part? About how easily he was able to stab me? Yeah, we have an antidote for that specific thing now, but what if this time he has a gun? Do we have an antidote for bullets tucked away somewhere, too?”
“You’re being a bitch,” Maria said coldly. “Where’s the man that I fell f– on top of when we were chasing that golem? The man who bravely stood up against a whole assortment of violent, blood-thirsty monsters? We have a chance to do something truly good here. Why are you backing away when this is the most important fight of our lives?”
“Because we can’t win,” Scrub said. “And I’m not in the business of fighting losing battles.”
“So what, just because it’s hard you’re gonna give up? Just going to let all those poor, innocent people die?”
“Yeah”
“I can’t believe you,” Maria said. Her chair shot back and toppled loudly on the ground as she got up and stormed back towards the door. “I gave up everything to become a Collector because I wanted to help people. I thought you did too. I guess I was wrong about you. You’re just another adrenaline junkie. Well, me and Scratch are gonna go through with Gabby’s plan because it’s the right thing to do. Come or don’t. I don’t care anymore.”
Scrub turned around and found himself alone in the kitchen.
Maria reached for her bag to pull out her glaive, but froze when she saw the gun pointed directly at her.
“I suggest you move away from the computer, Mr. Kitty Cat. Unfortunately for you, I don’t want to have to pay the cleaners to remove your blood from my carpet, so this beauty will just turn you to dust. Courtesy of your friend Gabriella.” His smile made Maria want to leap out and strangle him. But whatever part of her brain controlled common sense kept her planted. Scratch, meanwhile, slowly backed away from the desk with two hands held above his head in surrender.
“Let me see all of those kitty paws, please.” The man said. With a sigh and a sorry glance at Maria, Scratch slowly lifted up his two other hands – guns drawn – and stopped where he was.
“That’s more like it. Drop them. Slowly. That’s good. Now, let’s discuss what I should be doing with you snoopers in my office. Shall we?”
The previous day
Robo-berto had identified an inconspicuous galactic way station to fill up on fuel and rest for the night just close enough to their target’s office building to reach it by morning. It was filled mostly with deep space hauling rigs and Recreational Space Vehicles filled with families that spoke in hokey accents, talking about “Oh, we really needed this family bonding time, dontcha’ know. It’s good to get outta the hustle and bustle of the office. Even accountants need some time off.” There wasn’t a single other Collector on the whole station. There weren’t many jobs this close to the galactic center. And now they knew why.
Scrub waited until he could hear gentle purr-snores from the other room. He quietly climbed out of bed, tip-toed over to grab his IDB, and made his way towards the airlock.
“Wait.” A light clicked on behind him but Scrub didn’t turn around. He couldn’t bear to look at Scratch’s disappointed face.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to stop you. I know there’s no use in trying. It’s just…” Scratch trailed off, trying to find the right words. “You’ve always had impeccable instincts. And a tenacity that I envy.”
Scratch started to fiddle with his paws.
“I remember when I first pulled you out of that god damned gutter. I was sent out there to dispose of ‘Wailing Banshees.’ You see, back then Collecting was a new thing. Unregulated. There weren’t any banshees at all. Some snotty rich asshole just couldn’t stand the crying and was too impatient to wait for nature to take it’s course. They figured a collector would handle it and not make a fuss if they paid well enough.”
“You’ve told me this story a thousand times before,” Scrub said, but his voice didn’t sound annoyed like he had meant it to.
“Yeah, but I never told you that you weren’t the only one I grabbed. There were so many… But I knew I wouldn’t be able to save them all. So I grabbed four – one in each arm.”
Scratch mimed cradling four little bundles in his arms – letting the memory envelop him for a moment.
“But you were the only one that survived. Who knows how long you had been there. And it had taken me nearly three whole cycles before I was able to get formula. The other three… they were gone within one. And, well. I was sure that you’d follow soon after. But you didn’t. You’re a survivor. Always have been.”
Scratch stopped, fighting back tears before he was able to continue.
“I had always hoped that I could get you to settle down. You know, find a nice girl, a stable, safe job. I knew you never wanted that, but… I thought if I followed you around maybe I could help steer you in the right direction. I just wanted something more for you. Survival is good. Great even. But life has so much more to offer than just not dying. I see now that what I was doing wasn’t helping. And for that, I’m sorry. I hope that wherever you go, you can find peace. I have to do this thing. And I’m not going to make you come with me. Go do whatever it is you need to do. Hopefully I’m still around once you’ve figured out what that is. If not….”
Scratch gave up trying to hold back. Tears streamed down his face and his voice cracked.
“I love you. I always will.”
“I know,” he said before turning back and leaving the ship.
Scrub walked up to the TSA desk. A bubbly, floating, green jellyfish greeted him at the gate with a steady stream of questions.
“You look like a Collector, am I right? Are you here for business, or pleasure?”
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Not cool 😭