Valkoinen Raivo

Junior Researcher Lars Karsten caught the door he just banged in frustration one moment before it slammed shut and would have echoed through the Site. He didn't wanted to draw any attention to his exceptionally bad mood.
He spend the entire morning having a hole dug under an anomaly for an experiment to test it's spatial fixation.
The part that touched the ground dropped down as the floor was removed. The stuff frozen in place above it just stayed there. So after his lunch break he had to write a report on how he effectively doubled the area required for the anomaly.
And that asshole Jenkins just had this smug I-told-you-so smile when he got the update on the experiment. Lars kept looking for some soft surface to punch on the way to his office and ended up making a couple dents in the cork pinboard when nobody was looking.
"Fuck. My. Life."

At his desk, he bowed down to grab a Mountain Dew from the mini fridge underneath. As he lounged into his office chair and popped the can open, his glance fell on the absolute horror.
"That bastard didn't dare to…"
He sprung to his feet to take a closer look.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Jenkins!"
He swept everything from his desk out of an uncontrollable primal impulse.

That son of a bitch ate his doughnut.

This was it. This was the last straw. Lars could deal with the condescending comments from him. He could bear the jokes at his expense. But after all that harassment, this dazzler finally went a step to far.
If he though he could push him around just because he had that fancy Foundation badge of merit for saving the Site — from a containment breach he caused in the the first place, nonetheless — he was gravely mistaken. Lars would teach him a lesson.
He had to restrain himself to not just walk straight back to the containment area and beat Jenkins black and blue. A satisfying though, the guard personnel could dealt with buff D-Classes on a regular basis, so they would just fold him, should he try anything fancy. Of course that sleazy idiot wouldn't fight for himself.

A sudden realization flashed through Lars' mind. Anything he did now would just help that cretin play office politics with him. Probably even get him suspended. He took a deep breath and noticed he's been shaking from rage. Oh no, Lars would play this smart. Vengeance is best served cold, after all.

This afternoon, Lars kept secretly fantasizing about what he could do that motherfucker. A mere pounding wouldn't pay back all the humiliation he had to endure. Not even close. He deserved more kicks in the balls than Lars had realistically time for.
Meanwhile, Jenkins kept prancing around in front of the containment area, commandeering the technicians like they were some cheap temp workers and not highly skilled Engineering Majors. As he noticed Lars' glare, he came over.
"Don't let it get to you, Karsten. Negative results are just as valuable as positive ones."
The played commiseration just fuelled Lars' Hatred. And the way he omitted the doctor title, like non-ivy league graduations are below him. But somehow, Lars found the self-control to fake grin right back at him.

Eventually, their shift ended. Any moment longer locked up with Jenkins, and Lars would have let his composure slip.
At home, he spend the rest of his Friday pacing back and forth, venting steam by mumbling to himself about a thousand ways to kill that piece of shit. This was all the agitation he needed to finally arrive at the conclusion that was lurking in the back of his head since this afternoon.

He would kill Jenkins.

It was like the animosity clouding Lars' head suddenly cleared. Jenkins had to be dealt with. The Foundation's job was to protect humanity, and any parasite like Jenkins was a liability. No, not just that, but his incompetence was a direct threat. Heck, he had already caused one fatal incident. When would be the next? Jenkins was a ticking time bomb.
Allowing people like him to brown-nose their way into a position of power and then waste crucial resources and human lives was inane. It was maddening. Lars could feel his pulse increasing once again.
Yes, Jenkins had to die, and if nobody else had the grit to it, well, Lars was pissed enough to substitute for all of them.

He spend Saturday thinking about killing Jenkins.
He spend Sunday thinking about killing Jenkins.
By Monday, he had a plan. And although it put serious strain on his peace of mind, he was adamant to play it on the long game. Who laughs last…

Lars spend the next few days trying to suppress his aura of resent and familiarizing himself with the elements of his plan. It was almost too easy; the Special Containment Procedures in question were already a neat checklist of things to do… or not.
For once, he didn't had to pretend to smile when around Jenkins.

The hardest part of the plan came half a week later. He had to be above suspicion.
He found Jenkins in his office and knocked at the open door.
"Uh… so I don't know how to say this, but I came here to apologize."
Every single fibre in Lars' body screamed, but he swallowed his pride and continued.
"I realized I've been quite dickish to you recently. I think I've been subconsciously blaming you for what happened last fall."
His stomach was twisting and his instincts told him to just go for the throat, but´he knew that when facing a bootlicker, one must fight fire with fire.
"So all I really want to say is sorry. Oh, and Happy Birthday."
He handed him a box of doughnuts.
"I've heard you like these. Peace?"
Jenkins' face grimaced into a wide, triumphant smirk. He stood up to take the box and shake Lars' hand.
"Uh, thanks. And no offence taken, time's been tough on all of us."
Lars felt like he sullied himself, but sometimes, a good camouflage requires rolling around in mud.

With this repugnant step out of the way, all that was left to do was waiting for the right occasion.
The right occasion, it turned out, was exactly two months later. The rest of the research and maintenance staff already went home, and the only people left in the facility were a few guards, Lars and his arch-nemesis.
The northern wing of the Site was a Blind Wing, meaning it had no electronic surveillance because of the various visual hazards stored there. These were the only anomalies in the Blind Wing… except for an entrance to one of the burrow around which the entire Site was build.

Lars had bought a Hazmat that looked pretty similar to the Foundation ones. He could have used on of those, but then there would have been security footage of him taking one from the storage. He put it on and went looking for Jenkins.
He caught him Jenkins during a smoking break just outside the Blind Wing.
"Hi Karsten. What are you doing this late here?"
"Working on Director Wyatt's pet project. Actually that's why I've been looking for you."
"Ugh, the lamprey? What is it?"
"Today's sample got contaminated and I need to take another one. Can you help me with the lock?"
The hermetic seal to the containment chamber can only be opened from the outside, obviously. Having a second pair of eyes is the bare minimum when handling a Keter like this.
"Sure. Let me finish and I'll come."

At the door, he had Jenkins check his suit to raise no suspicion. No liquids besides carbohydrates were allowed inside, as per the Special Containment Procedures.
"Everything dry?"
"Seems so."
"Okay then. You have to use your own key card, because the system checks whether its the same when opening again. I'll write you up on the access list back when in my office."
"Sure thing."
Jenkins made a show out of pulling his key card out and sliding it through the card reader. Even in his last moments he had to be a poser.
The system beeped as it registered him and the door swung open to reveal the initial concrete gutters around the vertical shaft in the ground. It was filled to the brim with gasoline.
Dry air with the smell of gasoline wafted out of the chamber.

Lars took a deep breath and let all the anger in his chest lose. He bundled all his wrath into a single move and kicked Jenkins into the chamber. He noted with satisfaction that he faceplanted into the liquid.

This time, Lars let the door slam.

Jenkins dazedly stood back up. His voice could barely be heard through the heavy door.
"Karsten? What are you doing?"
"What I should have done much sooner."
"Dr. Karsten, this isn't funny. Let me out immediately."
"I'm done listening to your bellowing. Now it's time for you to learn how the real world works. Can't just kiss ass out of this one."
"You just wait until I get out of here."
Lars laughed.
"Getting out? You seem to have forgotten the rules. Now tell me, what do you think, how long can you stay inside there without sweating."
Jenkins' eyes widened in terror.
"No, you wouldn't…"
"Oh, and how I would. You are scum, Jenkins. The world doesn't need people like you. Now say hello to your new fishy friend."
"This… this is madness! You are jeopardizing the entire site!"
"Am I? Or did this our hero Mr. Perfect Jenkins, who entered one of the chutes on his own without proper gear and had the door fall close behind him? Do you think they would let you keep that badge on your tombstone?"
His face froze into a grimacing expression.
"You! Ate! My! Fucking! Doughnut! Now screw yourself, I need to get out of here before the entire Site goes bust."
Lars turned away, suddenly feeling extremely exhausted, as if the fire inside him had finally burnt down.

Was about time, he thought.

In one notable incident during Mission Papa-Talon, a formerly unknown fourth reaction to the Bad Donuts was observed within a subject. Although initially appearing to have Reaction One, the subject managed to calm itself down to a reasonable state and instead focused its anger on a targeted campaign against the person it blamed for the disappearance of the donut. The spite period lasted for almost three months until the murder of the target and included monomaniac focus on sabotaging it and its reputation.

Further investigation is ongoing.

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