Confidential Log #010 // 92nd Gamemakers

The chatter dies down when Dr. Elysium Carter walks into a room. Her white blazer is smoothed atop a form-fitting black shirt, stiff as a board. A vision of professionalism. She doesn't acknowledge anybody in the laboratory until she is seated in her chair, and an intern has set a mug of coffee at her table. A team of scientists sit in front of an elaborate setup of graphs, data, and video screens. Above that is a wall of glass encompassing the length of the room. When Dr. Carter peers inside, it is empty. She is an audience, and the lab rat inside will be the show. She knows who it is already; a lowlife from eight that she hand-selected from the Detention Center. A wife-killer that nobody misses.

A technician speaks up, "This should be the final product."

Dr. Carter holds out her palm, and the technician gently places a syringe on top of it. The liquid inside is a viscous, rusty brown color that she knows will activate too many neurons at once, and yet part of her job was to perfect it. She would, and she did, along with the other Gamemakers at her side. The product is another staple in her career, and could contribute to Panem in countless ways. However, it will be dumbed down for the sake of entertainment. A small tragedy, but Dr. Carter is used to the politics

She waits for the other Gamemakers to arrive before the final test commences. This time, she is confident the product will produce its desired effect. She has enough experience to know when she is likely to be wrong, and when she isn't. Miscalculating is part of science. So are egos. Dr. Carter thinks of herself as a balanced mixture of everything that is necessary to succeed. Technically, she is another product of the Capitol, but she is a good one. That is why she succeeds. That is why she has been invited once again to run a Hunger Games. It is an honor many will never experience, even if they spend their whole lives preparing for it.

"Go ahead then."

She gives the green light, and the lab rat is brought into the room behind the glass wall. The lab technician beside him injects him with the syringe and walks out of the room. The door is sealed shut behind him.

It takes several minutes for the desired effects to surface. She watches his vitals; the slow rise in heartrate, the reactivity of his pain receptors, the increased sweat production, the rapid breathing. She raises her head to watch the physical changes take effect. The confused lab rat exclaims, "What's happening to me? What is this?"

Unlike previous subjects, this one doesn't scream. There is pain in his eyes, in the way he grimaces, but it's bearable enough. She can see the technicians taking notes in her peripherals. Everything is going according to the design. She waits for it...

The bloodlust. The ferocity. That is what she wants to see.

There is a gentle smile beneath cold eyes.

"This will suffice. Bring in the second product."