Worker Bee

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Wasps, Body Horror, Trypophobia

Chicago, 1989

When Lawrence stepped into the darkened hallway, his only observer was the museum’s newly installed security camera. It followed him with a tiny blinking red light. He stared up at it in contempt. Ten years he’d spent pacing these halls, outlasting every other security guard, and what had his stalwart attitude earned him? A mechanical babysitter. He may have been getting on in years, (the thick mustache above his lip had gone from salt-and-pepper to just salt), but he was still as spry as ever. Nothing had ever been stolen for as long as he’d worked there. This mattered very little to the museum’s newest and most generous sponsor, SelTech. 18 layoffs and 83 hastily installed SelTech brand cameras and voila – a workforce in shambles and the already full pockets of the board got lined just that much thicker. Lawrence was fairly certain that the only reason he’d been kept on was his seniority, but with the overturn in leadership, this meant it might only be a matter of time. 

Lawrence looked at the display- a raised platform with the before-and-after advancements of the industrial revolution. He grimaced at the waxen face of a linotype operator, fingers frozen over the keys to get the next issue out in time. Enjoy it while it lasts, buddy. He thought to himself. 

—

The moon rose as he diligently plodded from room to room. No intruders. No human intruders, that is. Lawrence was just about to call it a night, halfway down the grand marble staircase in the lobby, when he heard it. A low humming. He stopped in his tracks. Anyone else may have brushed it off as nothing. A dehumidifier, an electrical issue, perhaps. But Lawrence knew the patterns of the museum inside and out. He knew, for instance, that the only operational cooling units during the night were those installed in the exhibits that required one 24/7 to preserve the historical condition, that the main power source (as in, the one that powered the lights) was shut off during the night as part of the museum’s green initiative. He might’ve blamed the cameras, but he did remember the installer proudly saying each had their own power source, like smoke detectors. The buzzing was coming from somewhere else. He did not move a muscle, straining his ears to determine from which direction it was coming. But the low timbre of the sound coupled with the grand reverberance of the lobby made it damn near impossible to pinpoint.

Lawrence itched his arm absent-mindedly. He hadn’t thought anything of it, until his nails collided with something hard. Recoiling in shock, he looked down. An angry red lump stared back at him. Lawrence racked his brain trying to recall what he might have done that prompted such a thing. A toxin, an undiscovered allergen maybe? When the lump began to move, his hands started to shake. He could feel it under his skin, crawling, sending little jolts down his muscles and prickling his arm hair. Out of pure horror and instinct, he smacked the lump hard. It was like someone had taken a sewing needle to where he’d struck. He cried out in pain, gripping his hand tightly, and falling into a crouch on the stairs. It was then that he noticed something else. As his lungs contracted and expanded, so too did the humming pulse—louder, softer.

The buzzing was coming from inside him.

— 

“Well, Mr. Bishop, you were right. You do, somehow, have a wasp’s nest inside you.” Lawrence sat, arms folded, in a paper gown atop thin, crinkly paper, dissatisfied. He hadn’t come all this way and paid out of pocket for a doctor to tell him something he already knew.

“I must say, these x-rays are fascinating. A bodily infestation is rare enough as it is, but I’ve never seen a colony take over a system so entirely like this.” The young doctor said, with miraculous incredulity. Lawrence was not impressed. He got straight to the point.

“So, what’s next? Meds? Surgery?” He asked matter-of-factly. The doctor cleared his throat.

“Well, Mr. Bishop, see, your old medical insurance would have covered a procedure like the one we’d need to do no problem. But SelTech has just sent out messages to all employee healthcare providers. They’ve switched plans.”

“And… does the new plan cover it?”

“Well, we looked into it. According to their policy, having wasps living inside you is a pre-existing condition.” The two stared at each other.

“How much will it be, then?”

“30,000 dollars.”

 — 

Living with wasps inside you wasn’t as bad as it sounded. Well, it was bad, he couldn’t eat without sending them into a mad frenzy, they constantly crawled under his skin, and if he touched them at all, even involuntarily, they’d sting through his flesh, but it certainly could have been worse. He wasn’t allergic, and he still had a job! He had about six thousand dollars in savings, so saving his salary bit by bit, if he cut back on food and other expenses, he’d be there in no time! 

Every day, he showed up to work with determination. The last thing Lawrence needed was to give them an excuse to lay him off. As far as management could tell, he’d never worked so hard. Maybe he even had a promotion in his future.

Lawrence paced the floor again. He had since gotten used to the never-ending buzzing and learned to strain his ears to hear over it. It had faded into white noise. His flashlight beam traveled over large cream-colored dinosaur skeletons, to the large board of insects with pins through their chests. He imagined how the wasps inside him might look speared through the thorax, wings all spread out under the glass. Soon enough. He just needed a big win- catch a robber or a vandal. Something to prove he could do things the cameras just weren’t capable of.

As if he’d manifested it with his mere thought, a loud clattering noise came from upstairs. Lawrence turned, heart pounding. The insects inside him thundered, upset by the sudden motion. He winced but ignored the burning to sprint up the stairs, hand hovering over his taser. Christmas had come early.  

—

Lawrence saw him right away. His face was covered, but judging by his stature alone, he didn’t look to be much older than fifteen. He crept closer, watching as the thief took down a painting, and replaced it with a convincing replica. By the looks of things, this was his last one. He bent down, scooping up the paintings he’d gathered. He paused, perking up. Shit. He must have heard the buzzing.

“Freeze!” Lawrence yelled, whipping out his taser, but the thief had already started to book it toward the emergency exit, paintings pinned under one arm. Lawrence took off after him. The thrumming in his chest raised angrily. He could feel the heat under his ribs, the wings and bodies crawling and buzzing all around, but he did not break his pace. He still had it, dammit, and he was going to make SelTech see that. The thief had just slammed into the bar of the fire exit door, when he stopped in his tracks. The paintings fell with a clatter as he twitched from the current of electricity. Lawrence released the trigger, placing a hand on the kid’s shoulder and pushing him against the doorframe. As much as he needed the win, he was careful to not be rougher than necessary.

— 

The hollow metal faces of the dinosaur statues were soon lit up by red and blue lights. The cops took the thief away in Lawrence’s personal handcuffs, but he didn’t mind. He was the hero of the hour. He stood there proudly, doing his best to disguise his wheezing, and the firestorm in his chest. He thought that once he’d stopped, it would die down, but it seemed to only be getting worse. A small crowd of onlookers was standing just beyond the cop cars, excitedly tittering and craning their necks to get a better look at the perpetrator. A gunmetal gray armored car pulled up, causing the crowd to part. A wiry man got out of the passenger side and opened the door for the man in the backseat.

He was wearing a sport coat over a ratty graphic tee, and flashed a toothy grin at the crowd, before approaching Lawrence. He had slicked-back oily hair, and a weaselly grin on his face.

“Lawry!” he said, opening his arms like he was being applauded. “Excellent catch, my man. On behalf of me, and all my partners at SelTech, we just want to say, job very well done.”

“Thank you, sir, Mr. Selvig. And it’s nice to meet you.” Lawrence rasped. His heartbeat quickened slightly, causing the pitch in his ribcage to heighten even further. “And may I just say what a fine company it is you have.” The man in the sport coat waved his hand.

“Please, Lawry. Sir, Mr. Selvig is my father. Call me Richard.” Lawrence laughed sharply as to disguise the fact that his breath had become ragged and labored. Richard put a hand on Lawrence’s shoulder. “Walk with me, Lawry.” Lawrence plodded next to him.

“We’re all thoroughly impressed by the work you’ve done here today. You saved us millions, in insurance alone.” Richard said. And we’d like to reward you for it. Lawrence’s eyes widened in hope. This was it.

“Oh, thank you so much! Thank you, thank you! My friends, they all told me to quit, but I knew! I knew if I just worked hard enough, you would come through for me. You would save me, thank you!” He gripped Richard’s shoulders. Tears streamed down his face. Richard drew back slightly.

             “You’ve got some real hot hands there, buddy.” Lawrence saw those familiar lumps starting to crawl their way up his forearms and released his boss, placing his hands on his hips. “You feeling alright there?” Richard asked

              “Never better, sir! Thanks to you and your kindness.” he gushed. Richard’s brow slightly furrowed.

              “What are you talking about, Lawry?”

              “You’re- You’re going to pay for my procedure, aren’t you?” He asked. Heat was radiating off every inch of his body. He noticed the white envelope clutched in Richard’s hand. There it was, in scrawled, messy handwriting – Lawrence (Security Guard) “This is it, isn’t it? The money!” He snatched it excitedly, running his finger across the seam and pulling out the contents, one piece of paper. No problem, it must’ve just been a bank statement. His eyes fell to the words printed in large, gaudy, colorful text –  

This voucher entitles the holder to ONE FREE SLICE OF SIGNATURE APPLE PIE with the purchase of a 16 or 20oz shake. Courtesy of PIZZA MY HEART, a subsidiary of SelTech Industries.

Lawrence’s elbows went limp, dropping the voucher to his waist. His face fell. Richard looked at him, terror written all over his stubbly face.

“Procedure? What are you talking about?” Richard asked. Lawrence panted, raising a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. His arms bulged and swelled, resembling the texture of a raspberry. He felt lumps like thumbtacks rising in his throat. Out of the corners of his eyes, he could see thin black feelers clawing their way through, like he was growing eyelashes from inside the lid. His eyes swelled, his heart palpitated as he could feel the swarm gnawing on his arteries. He coughed, and what felt like a hot cascade of gravel poured out of his mouth. The crowd erupted in screams, running in a panic, batting the wasps away, jumping onto the ground, anything to keep them away. Lawrence fell to his knees. His arms burst- dams of blood and venom and pus. He reached out for his protector, his savior.

“Richard…” He gasped. His boss recoiled.

“I got stung!” Selvig shrieked. “Get the EpiPen! G-” he choked. His face began to turn purple as he grabbed his throat.  

The last thing Lawrence saw before his heart stopped was Richard Selvig’s security detail, EpiPens in hand, running to shield him with their bodies.