Archived image from SCP-XXXX's smaller network following the installation of temporary light fixtures.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Provisional Site-██ has been constructed around the cave leading to SCP-XXXX for the purposes of study and containment. Site-██ is currently posing as a Department of Conservation (DoC) research facility.
Containment procedures are focused on preventing civilian access to SCP-XXXX, and studying its nature and contents. Expeditions into SCP-XXXX are to adhere to the guidelines of Exploration Protocol-XXXX-A. Artifacts recovered from SCP-XXXX are to be quarantined in a purpose built wing of Site-██ and screened for anomalous properties before long term storage. Due to the surrounding bedrock interfering with wireless communication, a base camp is to be maintained in the central chamber of SCP-XXXX and equipped with a chain of standard issue communication “buoys” to ensure continued contact with Site-██. Expeditions that encounter SCP-XXXX-1 instances are to monitor their behavior and not interfere with their actions.
In light of Incident-XXXX-██ and subsequent events, all non-Foundation entities that emerge from SCP-XXXX are to be treated as instances of SCP-XXXX-2 and considered hostile. This policy extends to any foundation personnel previously declared MIA inside SCP-XXXX. The cave leading to SCP-XXXX is to be sealed off with a reinforced airlock operable only from within Site-██ and supplemented with remote surveillance and automated defense systems. Defense systems are to be equipped with both lethal and non-lethal countermeasures.
SCP-XXXX-2 instances are to be subdued via non lethal force where possible, but termination is approved when deemed necessary. Captured SCP-XXXX-2 instances are to be treated as conventional high risk prisoners and interred in a standard prisoner cell.
Any expeditions into SCP-XXXX must be approved by no less than 4 members of onsite command and adhere to the guidelines outlined in Exploration Protocol-XXXX-B. Artifacts recovered from SCP-XXXX are to be quarantined in a purpose built wing of Site-██ and screened for anomalous properties before long term storage.
Personnel who encounter SCP-XXXX-1 instances are to avoid detection whenever possible, and are to engage them in close quarters only as a last resort.
Any victims of SCP-XXXX-1 are to be declared MIA and considered instances of SCP-XXXX-2 on subsequent encounters, as stated above.
Description: SCP-XXXX is a large structure buried beneath ██████ National Park, New Zealand. SCP-XXXX is stylistically similar to Ziggurats constructed during the Mesopotamian bronze age - dating suggests that it was constructed before known human settlement of New Zealand and from stone not native to the region. The structure consists of three levels, each roughly 247 m high, with lengths and widths of roughly 914 m, 685 m and 457 m in the order of ascension.
SCP-XXXX is reached via an otherwise non-anomalous cave system that extends for roughly 1 km before reaching the structure, where the interior of SCP-XXXX can be accessed via a staircase of similar construction to the complex itself. Entrance is a 11 x 23 m doorway leading into the second level.
The interior of SCP-XXXX is occupied by several large chambers, with the largest centered on a throne roughly 18 m in height. The throne is composed of black granite, and is the only furniture in these larger rooms. The walls of these rooms have been heavily decorated with relief carvings depicting [DATA EXPUNGED] and inscriptions in an unknown cuneiform script. Iron doors located in these chambers lead to an additional network of tunnels cut directly into the walls, ceilings and floors of the structure. This network has not been fully explored and contains furniture and other evidence of prior habitation. Many artifacts recovered from these tunnels have demonstrated their own anomalous properties, most notably SCP-████ and SCP-████. A full catalogue of recovered objects and documents can be found under Document-XXXX-██.
SCP-XXXX-1 are entities that reside within SCP-XXXX. SCP-XXXX-1 resemble emaciated humanoids that lack a lower torso or legs, possess two pairs of arms and levitate via unknown means. The body and head of SCP-XXXX-1 instances are covered by a green-black shawl. All attempts to view beneath this shawl have failed, though the garments are covered in inscriptions similar to those found elsewhere in the complex.
SCP-XXXX-1 instances appear unable to leave SCP-XXXX and have not made any vocalizations or attempts at communication during observation. They are believed to traverse SCP-XXXX at random when undisturbed and are largely non-perceptive, being easily avoided by dousing light sources or finding cover. However, when made aware of Foundation staff SCP-XXXX-1 have proven docile, typically observing staff from a distance until they leave SCP-XXXX.
Addendum XXXX-1: As of Incident-XXXX-██-1, SCP-XXXX-1 instances are now actively hostile. Upon detecting any human presence in SCP-XXXX, they will attempt to restrain personnel before [DATA EXPUNGED]. No trace of the victim remains afterward. Physical trauma such as small arms fire is able to injure and repel SCP-XXXX-1 instances, but does not result in lasting damage and no reduction in their numbers have been observed. Additionally, SCP-XXXX-1 seem to be actively patrolling SCP-XXXX, making them harder to avoid.
SCP-XXXX-2 is the designation given to hostile entities that periodically emerge from SCP-XXXX and assault Site-██. SCP-XXXX-2 appear physically indistinguishable from normal humans, and are believed to be former victims of SCP-XXXX-1. Where data is available, they have proven genetically identical to the former personnel they resemble. SCP-XXXX-2 instances are highly aggressive, requiring physical restraint or lethal force to subdue and exclusively speak in an unknown language, believed to be the spoken form of the script found in SCP-XXXX. SCP-XXXX-2 were first encountered during Incident SCP-XXXX-██-2, and █ additional attempts to breach Site-██ were made before current containment procedures were implemented, at which point breach attempts dropped significantly. As of ██/██/20██, no instance of SCP-XXXX-2 has been observed in SCP-XXXX itself and their point of origin remains unknown.
Incident report SCP-XXXX-██-1: During a routine expedition on the ██/██/20██, Foundation personnel breached a previously inaccessible room containing the desiccated corpse of a human male, the first confirmed sign of non-Foundation human activity in SCP-XXXX.
The remains were dressed in clothing common to the early 20th Century and holding a M1911 semiautomatic pistol. A stone tablet and spent .45 ACP cartridge were located nearby. Cause of death was identified as self inflicted gunshot to the head. Photographs of the corpse were taken, and the tablet was retrieved for later analysis.
During the return to base camp the expedition encountered an SCP-XXXX-1 instance, which exhibited unexpected signs of distress and agitation. SCP-XXXX-1 then proceeded to attack personnel and [DATA EXPUNGED]. Of the initial eight personnel in the expedition, two managed to evade SCP-XXXX-1 and report back to Site-██. The tablet was not in their possession.
Given SCP-XXXX-1's sudden change in behavior, an armed operation was authorized by onsite command and managed to temporarily drive SCP-XXXX-1 instances back with gunfire. The tablet was retrieved with █ additional losses.
Incident report SCP-XXXX-██-2: ██ days after the events of Incident SCP-XXXX-██-1, an armed force of approximately 237 individuals designated SCP-XXXX-2 post incident emerged from SCP-XXXX and assaulted Site-██, resulting in a massive breach of containment.
The vast majority of the attacking force consisted of Semitic individuals equipped with spears, axes and shields, in addition to groups of Māori Polynesians wielding traditional weapons such as Taiaha and Patu. A small portion of the combative force were equipped with firearms, including individuals identified as Foundation casualties of SCP-XXXX-1. It is currently believed that the former personnel granted the combatants access to Site-██. Enemy combatants were recorded communicating in the unknown dialect during and the incident, and were unresponsive to attempts at reasoning or negotiation.
Severe losses to onsite personnel and site infrastructure were sustained before the eventual arrival of MTF Phi-27 "Crowd Pleasers". After ██ hours and ██ confirmed Foundation casualties the engagement ended with 197 hostiles terminated, 4 captured, and the remainder unaccounted for.
Interviewer: Dr. █████████ Scott
Interviewed: SCP-XXXX-2A
Pre Transcript Note: SCP-XXXX-2A appears as a middle eastern male, approximately 1.67m tall and roughly 30 years of age. DNA samples indicate subject is of Semitic descent and exhibits genetic traits that are extinct in the modern population. Subject remains in restraints for the duration of the interview.
<Begin Log>
SCP-XXXX-2A comes to as the sedatives used during relocation begin to wear off. Dr. Scott waits until subject appears fully conscious. SCP-XXXX-2A's facial expression is unanimated or despondent.
Dr. Scott: Are we recording? Right. Let us now begin. SCP-XXXX-2A, we have some questions we would like to ask.
SCP-XXXX-2A: Subject responds in the thus far unidentified language shared between SCP-XXXX-2 instances. In contrast to body language, tone is notably hostile.
Dr. Scott: I don't understand. Are you able to speak any other languages?
SCP-XXXX-2A: Subject responds again in the SCP-XXXX-2 language.
Dr. Scott: Why did you attack our staff? What is the purpose of the structure, and the entities inside it?
SCP-XXXX-2A begins to struggle violently against the restraints whilst repeating a sentence in the unidentified language. Subject is re-sedated and interview terminated.
<End Log>
We had similar results from 2D as well. I suspect that we won't be able to get much out of these two until we can translate this language. On site linguists seem to think it's some sort of Akkadian based on sentence structure and phonetics, but have yet to identify any shared words - Dr. Scott
Interviewer: Dr. ███████ Rawiri
Interviewed: SCP-XXXX-2B
Pre Transcript Note: SCP-XXXX-2B appears as a male of Māori descent, approximately 1.85m tall and roughly 28 years of age. Subject exhibits traditional tattooing consistent with the █████████████ Iwi (tribe). Subject remains in restraints for the duration of the interview.
Dr. Rawiri was selected due to his fluency in the Māori language. Transcript will note when dialogue has been translated into English.
<Begin Log>
SCP-XXXX-2B comes to as the sedatives used during relocation begin to wear off. Dr. Rawiri waits until subject appears fully conscious. SCP-XXXX-2B's body language is frightened and agitated.
Dr. Rawiri: All right. Hello SCP-XXXX-2B, my name is Dr. Rawiri. Do you understand what I am saying?
SCP-XXXX-2B: Subject makes a short reply in the unidentified language. Tone is calm and collected
Dr. Rawiri:[Translated] Hello SCP-XXXX-2B, my name is ███████. Do you understand what I am saying?
SCP-XXXX-2B's body language reacts in a manner suggesting recognition. Facial expression becomes excited
SCP-XXXX-2B: Subject replies with a short sentence in the unidentified language. Tone is the same as before
Dr. Rawiri:[Translated] I recognize your Moko as belonging to █████████████, are they your people?
SCP-XXXX-2B's body language suggests agreement. Subject remains silent.
Dr. Rawiri:[Translated] Are you able to speak as I am?
SCP-XXXX-2B's expression becomes pained. Subject does not reply. There is a brief pause in the recording.
Dr. Rawiri:[Translated] Can you speak with your face? Smile for yes, frown for no?
SCP-XXXX-2B hesitates, then appears to force a smile.
SCP-XXXX-2B: Subject vocalizes a short sentence in the unidentified language. Tone is suspicious
Dr. Rawiri:[Translated] Are you in control of your voice?
SCP-XXXX-2B frowns.
Dr. Rawiri:[Translated] Is something forcing you to attack our people?
SCP-XXXX-2B smiles.
Dr. Rawiri:[Translated] Did one of the creatures in the cave [DATA EXPUNGED]
SCP-XXXX-2B smiles. The expression appears to have been difficult.
Dr. Rawiri:[Translated] Do you know what the beings in the cave are?
SCP-XXXX-2B hesitates, then frowns.
Dr. Rawiri:[Translated] What are the-
Dr. Rawiri is cut off as SCP-XXXX-2B begins to struggle violently against the restraints whilst shouting in the unidentified language. Subject's facial expression described as terrified. Tone of voice is distressed. Subject is re-sedated and interview terminated.
<End Log>
Interesting. While It is not yet clear if this is indeed a possessive force influencing SCP-XXXX-2 instances or an attempt at deception, the latter seems less likely. If the former, it also remains unclear if the entity itself is able to understand languages contemporary to the host. - Dr. Scott
Interviewer: Dr. ███████ Rawiri
Interviewed: SCP-XXXX-2C
Pre Transcript Note: SCP-XXXX-2C appears as a Caucasian male, approximately 1.78m tall and roughly 33 years of age. Subject matches former Agent ███ Haddock in both appearance and genetics. Subject remains in restraints for the duration of the interview.
<Begin Log>
SCP-XXXX-2C comes to as the sedatives begin to wear off. Dr. Rawiri waits until subject appears fully conscious. SCP-XXXX-2B's body language is tense.
SCP-XXXX-2C: Subject initiates dialogue with a curt statement in the unidentified language. Tone described as wary.
Dr. Rawiri: My name is Dr. Rawiri. May I ask you some questions SCP-XXXX-2C?
SCP-XXXX-2C: Subject makes a short reply in the unidentified language. Tone described as condescending
SCP-XXXX-2C begins to twitch its left eyebrow. Pattern is not immediately noticed by Dr. Rawiri, but is identified as Morse code by observing personnel. Translated messages will be transcribed.
SCP-XXXX-2C: [In Morse Code] ENTITY IN CNTRL
Dr. Rawiri: The form you have assumed resembles one of our personnel. Why is this?
SCP-XXXX-2C: [In Morse Code] NOT KNW COD CANT INTRCPT
Observing personnel point out the coded message to Dr. Rawiri via his earpiece. Dr. Rawiri is instructed to not acknowledge this behavior and continue the interview.
SCP-XXXX-2C: Subject appears to ask a question in the unidentified language. Tone described as impatient
Dr. Rawiri: I will repeat the question. The form you have assumed looks like one of our staff. Why?
Twitching pauses and facial expression becomes pained. Twitching resumes
SCP-XXXX-2C: [In Morse Code] IT NED PUPPT 2 LEVE SCP
SCP-XXXX-2C: [In Morse Code] THEY R TRAPD
Dr. Rawiri: All right lets try something else. Do you understand what I am saying?
SCP-XXXX-2C: Subject spits onto the table and shouts in the unidentified language.
SCP-XXXX-2C: [In Morse Code] ███ DO SCP NO
Dr. Rawiri: Why did you try to attack this facility?
SCP-XXXX-2C: Subject emits a loud vocalization at Dr. Rawiri and begins to struggle against restraints
SCP-XXXX-2C: [In Morse Code] MGT RETUN SCP AFRA
Coded message is interrupted as SCP-XXXX-2C becomes increasingly animated and continues to struggle. Subject sedated and interview terminated.
<End Log>
Interviewers: Dr. █████████ Scott, Dr. ███████ Rawiri and Assistant Researcher █████ Summers.
Interviewed: SCP-XXXX-2C
Pre Transcript Note: Interview was conducted inside the site medical ward in an attempt to obfuscate its purpose to SCP-XXXX-2C and communicate with the host without interruption. Subject was gagged, heavily restrained and administered localized muscle relaxants to the arms and legs. Interviewing staff were dressed in medical garb, and instructed to perform minor medical procedures during the interview. Unless otherwise stated, SCP-XXXX-2C's responses have been transcribed directly from Morse code.
<Begin Log>
SCP-XXXX-2C comes to as the sedatives begin to wear off. Interviewers feign small talk and recheck the restraints until subject appears fully conscious. SCP-XXXX-2C's body language appears highly tense.
SCP-XXXX-2C: Subject attempts to speak but is inhibited by the gag. Tone described as alarmed.
Dr. Rawiri faces Dr. Scott as if he is addressing him.
Dr. Rawiri: Ok lets begin. SCP-XXXX-2C are you able to hear me?
SCP-XXXX-2C appears distressed and confused, but begins to twitch its left eyebrow as in previous interview. Monitoring staff translate messages in real time and relay them to interviewers via their earpieces.
SCP-XXXX-2C: YES
Dr. Rawiri: Acknowledged. Can you confirm if the entity is aware of this conversation?
Twitching pauses briefly. Interviewers feign small talk while waiting for the reply
SCP-XXXX-2C: DNT THNK SO
Dr. Rawiri: Can you describe your experience after [DATA EXPUNGED]
Facial expression becomes highly distressed and subject takes roughly two minutes to formulate a response. Research Assistant Summers is instructed to take a blood sample during this pause.
SCP-XXXX-2C: COLD DARK
SCP-XXXX-2C: FLOATING ROWS
SCP-XXXX-2C: OTHERS MANY
SCP-XXXX-2C: CANT MVOE
SCP-XXXX-2C: LONG TIME
Dr. Rawiri: During our previous conversation, you mentioned that something was trapped, can you elaborate on this?
SCP-XXXX-2C: 1S CANT LEAVE
SCP-XXXX-2C: PUNISHED
SCP-XXXX-2C: Subject makes another unsuccessful attempt to speak. Tone described as frightened.
Interviewing staff deliberate quietly amongst themselves. Conversation has been redacted for brevity.
Dr. Scott: Do you mean to imply that an SCP-XXXX-1 instance is in control of your body?
SCP-XXXX-2C: YES
Dr. Rawiri: Are you able to to communicate with the SCP-XXXX-1 instance?
Facial expression becomes troubled. Subject takes roughly four and a half minutes to respond. During this time, Dr. Scott and Dr. Rawiri check the subject's pulse, retrieve skin samples and feign further small talk.
SCP-XXXX-2C: YES AND NO
SCP-XXXX-2C: BITS OFIDEAS
SCP-XXXX-2C: IMAGES
SCP-XXXX-2C: LANGUAGE UNKOWN
SCP-XXXX-2C: UNDERSTAN PARTS
Subject attempts to bite through the gag and thrashes ineffectually. Facial expression becomes distressed and subject appears to weep.
SCP-XXXX-2C: MOVE FEELS WRONG
SCP-XXXX-2C: HURTS
SCP-XXXX-2C: REQEST TERMINATION
Dr. Scott: I'm sorry SCP-XXXX-2C, but we can't do that and you know why. Help us understand this anomaly. Can you tell us why SCP-XXXX-1 instances became hostile? What is the purpose of the structure?
Subject continues attempts to break loose, though facial expression gradually becomes more composed.
SCP-XXXX-2C: SCP WAS SHRINE
SCP-XXXX-2C: LIBRARY OF A GOD
SCP-XXXX-2C: 1S DO CRIME
SCP-XXXX-2C: GOD LOST
SCP-XXXX-2C: PUNISH
SCP-XXXX-2C: 1S SCARE
SCP-XXXX-2C: GODES RETU
Subject suddenly ceases resistance and attempts to scream. Both tone of voice and facial expression indicate extreme pain or distress. Subject begins to convulse, eyes roll back into head and bowel releases. Medical team is called in as subject looses consciousness. Interview terminated.
<End Log>
Interesting. Subject appears to have sustained a seizure like event, though it is unclear whether this was deliberate or not. 2C seems fine physically, though has yet to regain consciousness. At the risk of speculation, it seemed to me like 2C had just seen something, or had some sort of epiphany - Dr. Scott
Boredom
Rodger caught himself scratching at his neck again.
He didn’t know when he had started doing that. There was also no itch there, so he didn't really know why either.
Perhaps he was having another episode?
No, no. That wasn’t it. That would have been more interesting than this.
He sighed.
On the wall the tally he had been keeping said that he had been in quarantine for a very long time. Or at least, it had been when he lost count. A year and twenty three days if he remembered right.
The trouble was, he had already been through all the fun points.
The initial depression and guilt.
The numerous failed suicide attempts.
Being convinced by the site therapist that the events of the breach had not been his fault.
Becoming angry with the Foundation for keeping him like this.
Becoming grateful to the Foundation for not terminating him.
Becoming paranoid that the Foundation would simply leave him in here.
Becoming convinced that an XK had occurred and he was the only human left.
Descending into incoherent babbling.
Descending into coherent babbling.
But now? Now he was just bored.
His work for the day was already done – reports filed, research collated.
The meager handful of computer games the firewalls would let him access were already at 100% completion.
New theories about the interaction between physics and the occult practices of key tribal groups had been posited. All parts of the database he had clearance for (and some bits he didn’t) had been memorized. Countless books lay read to the side and shows he would have once never spared a glance had been marathoned.
And yet, here he was.
Still incarcerated.
Still bored.
He scratched his neck and began to pace.
What else was there for him to do? For a time he had made frequent use of the site's video chat, but by now most of the staff were sick of him. There was only so much furniture one could assemble and only so much Lego or Mechano one could fumble with before the novelty wore off.
He had even tampered with the odd email to pull pranks he would not be present to enjoy.
Frustrated, he scratched at his neck again.
It wasn’t like he didn’t know why he was still in here damnit. He remembered well what happened to the staff who found him post-breach, and he hoped that whatever deities they may have served (be they Abrahamic, Animist, Lovecraftian, Pasta based, or otherwise) would cut them some slack in the next world.
He was also quite aware of the nature of his affliction - he had after all documented most of it himself, and whilst he felt that terms like "highly virulent memetic infection" were in some ways misleading buzzwords slapped on by management, he accepted that it did have a rather… unpleasant effect on anyone in direct contact with him.
What he was still unsure of was why they hadn't just killed him.
It would make sense. Shit, he had even tried to do it for them a few times.
Maybe he was a long term study of the anomaly's effects, or a poster child for the ethics committee?
Considering that his network privileges had never been revoked, perhaps the Foundation just valued his expertise, for all the good it had done him.
But despite knowing (and indeed understanding) the circumstances that lead him here, and why for the sake of site safety he must remain in here until the effects eventually wore off, it did little to change the fact that he was now completely, inconsolably, incomprehensibly bored.
Nearly everything in this room had become detestable in his eyes. The creaky chair over by his desk, the now rather pungent smelling frame of his bed, the intercom grate that occasionally warbled at him when he was not at his terminal. It had done so a few minutes earlier in fact, just sort of made made a sudden garbled noise and cut out.
It did that too sometimes, usually due to some newbie who didn't know how to use a mic properly.
He ignored it and once again clawed at his neck.
He hated this place. He wanted to get out. He was sick of putting the shower on cold and pretending it was rain, or standing by the air vent dreaming of wind. Every now and again another batch of paranoid delusions would come to take his boredom away, but clarity would always return and he would once again be alone in this accursed room with that accursed bathroom, infernal security camera, and that bored asshole that stared at him from the mirror.
If it wasn't for the computer, that magnificent piece of human ingenuity, he would have no link to the outside world. It armed his deprived brain with stimuli, like an angelic arms dealer selling guns to the warlords of thought.
At the moment something was flickering on the screen, presumably his screensaver.
He lay down on the dirty floor amidst the discarded food packets started fidgeting with an empty soda can and sighed again.
This time when he scratched he noticed blood on his nails.
For a few minutes he just lay there like that briefly fondling an empty wrapper. AS they often did, his thoughts drifted back to what he would do when he got out.
Firstly, he was going to punch that oaf Jeffrey in the face, partly because he was an overrated hack, but mostly for that stunt with the expired ham in the food chute. Grudges Rodger had found, were a fine way to pass the time.
Then he was going to run outside - The running part was important, he had not had enough space for a good sprint in so long - and bask in the fresh air. It didn't really matter if it was night or day, both the stars or sun would be equally refreshing.
Then he would… wait was he hearing an alarm?
Alert, Rodger sat up and listened carefully.
It was very faint, presumably deadened by the walls, but he could swear he was hearing an odd whining noise. How long had that been going on for?
Getting back to his feet, Rodger walked over to the cell "door" - in reality a slab of metal welded into place - and put his ear to it.
From the other side he could hear the telltale wail of a breach alarm from somewhere outside his cell.
Perplexed, he shuffled over to his terminal to see what was going on, and was met with a big fat Site Alert flashing on the screen. A line of ice crawled down his spine as he saw the site status had been updated. There was a breach going on alright, bad one too from the looks of it. The site network was in total disarray, warnings were going off everywhere, the message systems were a flurry of panicked pleas for help or information. Something had broken containment in deep in the facilities' bowels.
Gripped by an invigorating sense of dread, he desperately tried to scrounge up what info he could.
What was loose? What was compromised?
He hacked into the camera feeds for the hallways in time to see the aftermath of a bloodbath. The corridors were lined with bodies. Bodies that he recognized in the dusty annals of memory as once being his friends, from long before the world had forgotten him.
Alarms screeched. In another hallway panicked personnel screamed and ran before something used them to paint the walls off screen. He could see that Site Security and the MTFs had mobilized and were rushing to contain the breach.
On another feed Rodger found Simmons, banging against a door in complete terror. His lanyard swung back in forth in a comical fashion, and the sweat on his bald head was only matched by his bubbling tears. Oddly, Rodger vaguely remembered meeting Simmons' daughter once, in another life long ago. An adorable wee child. She would be sad to loose her father.
For some reason, the thought of that seemed to make Rodger sad too.
For a brief moment he paused. Did Rodger have a daughter too? He couldn't remember.
He awakened the back doors his idle hands had placed throughout the network and accessed the door controls.
Simmons became more and more frantic and panicked as the sounds of the creature began to billow down the hallway.
Then the door slid open, and after he fell through, it seamlessly closed again after him. Something large and shadowy slammed into it, wailed in frustration and then darted out of view.
It took a moment for this to register.
Holy crap.
Had Rodger just saved Simmons' life?
This was something new.
Something unfamiliar, something he had not yet done since he was locked up and the key was tossed away.
But the best part was that there was ample opportunity for more.
Rodger had something to do.
He put out feelers into as many systems as possible, and set about assisting any way he could.
After all, so long in total boredom meant he knew the site network better than those who built it.
Staff trapped in the air lock suddenly found themselves freed. A helpful voice on the intercom warned those in the access shaft which ways were blocked. The cafeteria staff found the bulkheads had locked themselves when the creature tried to get in. And every time the creature poked its head before a camera, the MTFs received an update through their equipment.
Not for months had Rodger felt so stimulated! So absurdly real and grounded! So wonderfully fuzzy when the staff… no, his colleagues escaped! So gloriously traumatized when they were eviscerated! The game was afoot, and the stakes were oh so high!
And then it all seemed to stop. He checked the cameras. All of them. And saw not a blip of the skip. An eerie silence save for the wails of the alarms and moans of the wounded filled the facility.
No.
Surely not.
It can't be over already can it?
For a moment Rodger was frustrated. Agitated. Desperate even.
Just like that?
No!
That wasn't fair!
But the silence drew on and he decided the skip must have somehow escaped the facility.
His hope faded. Morose, he turned away from his terminal.
But once he had begun to calm down, a resounding bang struck the long sealed door to his cell.
A splitting wail of rage and frustration seeped through the walls.
Another impact struck the welded frame and a massive dent sprouted in the metal's center.
His once eternally static confines suddenly seemed weak and malleable.
Rodger retreated to the far side of the room.
As new dents began to sprout he screamed.
He didn't want to die.
He had already stared into the darkest parts of the psyche and turned away from the oblivion they promised.
He wanted to be free.
Yet true as this was, deep down he had never been so excited in his life.
He had never felt so alive.
A small hole was torn in the door. Wispy claws snaked their way through and began to work it bigger. It was the first direct visual contact Rodger had had since his internment and despite its murderous intent he willed it to work harder.
Metal screeched and groaned as the entity worked the hole bigger, as angry and desperate to kill the man within as he was to meet it face to face. To meet anything face to face.
It stopped.
Shouts.
Gunshots followed and the claws retreated. A great howl, a crack of thunder and a flash of light roared forth before all went quiet. Boots began to scuff. Radios buzzed out words and other words were barked back into them. Something heavy was being dragged away.
An empty pause.
Then Rodger heard a knock on the door.
For days afterwards Rodger was occupied. Filing reports, processing the oven fresh trauma and checking up on the wounded. For a week he was busy, conversing and supporting, suggesting and researching. His colleagues would message him, thank him for his help. Some organised a crate of beers to be dropped into his food-chute.
There was even talk of a promotion for him when he got out.
But, as time drove on the excitement began to fade.
As the tension began to thin, so did his involvement.
Gradually the messages from the… staff began to subside and the horror went stale.
Before long he was once again alone in his room.
Once again he was bored.
He let out a deep sigh.
Having finished his work for the day once again, he began to pace around his room, surrounded by items that he hated.
Once again he scratched his neck.