This is 
Agent E's sandbox.
- Light Eater
- His Red Right Hand
- Plaguing Us
- Document-SU-Epilson
- Operation Myrmidon
- Semper Fidelis
- Pincer Coffin
- Old Granfather
- Imperial Sharks
- Tale Entry
- Tale Entry II
- If Eye Stay
- If Eye Stay II (EyeEye. I hate puns)
- Shrek
- New Item
| Item: | The Light Eater |
| Size: | Varies |
| Usage Precautions: | Physical contact with Item is prohibited during active state. Usages in open areas are to be avoided at all times. Under no circumstances should the item be exposed to sunlight when outdoors or when it is situated in small indoor locations/chambers. |
| Handling Precautions: | Item is to be isolated from light sources in containment; avoid having personnel carry light-generating objects when near Item |
| Location: | Classified |
Usage
Item could be deployed for a complete obliteration of light sources in an enclosed fixture or structure and prevent further habitation of light in the surrounding proximity. Items must never be exposed in open areas if possible. Initiate Procedure Prism-1 within 20 minutes of deployment after usage to evoke Item to enter inactive state. If Item has entered an unstable stage and Prism-1 is rendered ineffective immediately initiate Procedure Prism-Alpha-14.
Opening of Prism and deployment of Light Eater must be done with an approval from an Alpha level personnel.
Report
Item Light Eater is currently still under study and classified as a Null Class Item. Item Light Eater is theorized to be an anomalous manifestation of an absence of light capable of expansion via the consumption of visible light and ultraviolet waves. Light Eater requires a rate of consumption of light to maintain a given size larger than its default size in dormant stage prior to being exposed to light1. Item has been shown to be unable to pass through solid matter, including transparent solid objects.
If object is to undergo the stage of instability, execute Procedure Prism-Alpha-14 immediately. Details of Procedure Prism-Alpha-14 can be found in Appendix B.
Item was originally recovered from ██████ Cave located in ███████, █████ ██████ by the SCP Foundation in 4/29/1987.
Documents Recovered
Recovered: 2000
Dated: 1840
It came to me once again, I felt it, I saw it… God, if I did any sin, forgive me. Every night… its presence in my room, I see the candlelight, not just flickering away but being absorbed. The fear it gives me, It is worse than any kind. I cannot sleep anymore, and even if I do, I fear to wake. Goodbye, and forgive me.
Recovered: 2008
Dated: 1916
The submarine just shut down, I remember thinking the we were shot down or found but there was no damage. All I felt was fear and death. I heard screams all around, but I could not tell if it was my men, or me.
The creaking automobile came to a screeching halt.
Commander Threads straightened his back and peered ahead through the window.
June 3rd, 1936
The day had a bloody start.
Commander Threads stood by the field, as the torrential rain splattered on the brim of his hat. The turbulent and stormy clouds flashed with lightning. He erected his body up against the swirling maniacal breezes, held one hand on his hat and another on to a pair of metal binoculars. Raising the cold binoculars, Threads pressed it firmly onto both of his eyes and blinked rapidly two times.
Red lights flashed into his lens, and an intense wave of agony shot through his eyes. He groaned and dropped his binoculars onto the flooding earth.
“Commander!” a task force member turned and called.
“It’s here,” Commander Threads said, rubbing his eyes with his gloved hand. He bent down and picked up his tainted pair of binoculars. He strode swiftly back into the dilapidated makeshift shack, roofs leaking droplets of rain.
“Sir?” the telegraph operator asked.
“Request permission to open fire, send to the Red Right Hand,” Commander Threads responded dejectedly.
Commander Threads rubbed his eyes and face as the sound of Morse code circulated the shack, with a surprisingly matching rhythm to the raindrops. He reached into his pocket, and slipped out the tattered photo.
It was some sort of creature straight out of the horror films. In the photo it stood eight feet tall, with its spine arched backwards in an incredulous angle. Its body illuminated a large wave of light that blocked out most details of the creature’s pale skin, which Threads felt relieved about. It had a curved cylinder of a head, pierced right through a poor man’s chest. This skip demanded by the Overseer council had been one of the hardest to trace. Shortly after brutally murdering a victim, it can chose to look, act, and sound the same way the unlucky individual did. However, one glaring clue of its arrival is the abrupt storm that pushed away the peaceful skies of the Bosnian valleys, an unfathomably scary ability the Insurgency learned that the creature possesses in this long pursuit.
New sounds of Morse code trickled in. The operator tensed and listened closely.
“Red Right Hand authorized this action,” the operator said. Commander Threads placed on his cap and walked out into the chilly air.
Just as he expected, the red lights were nowhere in sight when he scanned the village. Threads pulled the binoculars away from his face and ordered loudly.
“Open fire.”
A whole army of operatives rose from the nearby ditches and bushes. With firearms raised, they raced towards the village. The villagers scattered in panic as the armed men enclosed to them, but no avail. The operatives stopped on spot and opened fire. The civilians of the village toppled to the ground as lifeless dolls, and the fresh smell of blood mixed with the rainy air.
“Commander, target not spotted,” an operative came to Threads and said. He sighed. Where did this damned creature go?
Suddenly, a little boy ran out of the village, into the soaked fields. The task force members raised their guns, but did not fire.
“Open fire,” Threads commanded.
“But sir…” the task force operatives nearby started to stammer.
“Open fire, you bastards!” Commander shouted. Seeing none of his operatives reacted, he reached towards his belt and pulled his shining dark pistol out of its holster. He aimed it towards the child and fired.
The boy cried. He collapsed into the flooded fields.
“Those of you who still decides to be a coward can leave now,” Threads spat. He shoved his pistol back into the holster. None of the operatives moved.
“Search the village.”
The operatives started to divide up, entering the small houses of the village. Commander Threads waited under a large tree and popped a cigarette in his mouth. He took out his lighter and attempted to start a flame, but the lighter responded with no spark, being drenched in the rain. He cursed and threw the lighter along with the cigarette onto the muddy earth.
“Commander!” a shout sounded from a nearby farmhouse.
Threads walked into the farmhouse. Laying on a bed, a pale sickly girl resided indoors with her eyes shut. A middle-aged woman knelt next to the bed, weeping silently into the girl’s arm.
“What are you waiting for?” Threads questioned. The operatives raised their guns and a blast sounded. The woman gasped, with her body rigid, and collapsed on the floor.
The little girl opened her eyes. “Mama?” she asked weakly.
The operatives fired.
Commander Threads sighed as he gazed at the bodies. “Burn down the village,” he ordered.
Suddenly, a weeping sound came again. Threads turned, seeing the woman rising again, reaching for her dead child. She froze as she saw the fresh bullet wound in the girl’s chest.
She screamed. She turned towards the operatives and bitterly glared at Commander Threads. The scream deepened into a roar. Her neck elongated, and her face transforming into a cylindrical spike. Her skin grew pale, and an immense wave of red light shot into their eyes.
The mobile task force members yelled in pain and dropped down. The creature crawled forward, impaling their skulls with its spiked head and tearing their chests open with its protracted claws. Commander Thread’s eyes burned with pain as he reached for his pistol.
As Threads got hold of the pistol, the creature leaped and pounced on his body. He lost his grasp on his pistol. The creature dug its claws into his shoulder and aimed its head towards his face.
Then, struggling to open his eyes, Threads saw a pellet shot and attached to the creature’s skin. The creature swiped wildly at the air. A dark solidified metal substance leaked out of the pellet. It spread swiftly across the creature’s pale skin, encasing it into a sculpture in a matter of seconds.
The pain cleared away. Commander Threads lifted his head and looked up. There a few operatives in dark clothing wield strange weapons in their hands.
“Get up,” a voice said. Threads pushed away the encased creature and stood up. There stood next to the operatives, a man in the uniform of the Insurgency. His right arm was metallic and bright crimson.
“Sir,” Threads stood straight and saluted. The Right Red Hand chuckled.
“You’ve done a great job this time,” he remarked. “Besides the fact that you nearly got your skull pierced.” He laughed. “Report to the camp later,” the Red Right Hand ordered, “We’ll discuss with the Council on follow-up actions.”
Threads saluted again, and they walked out of the room fresh with red blood.
The Red Right Hand slammed the door of the automobile. The O5 Command expressed that they should depart from the sound as soon as possible. The neutralized creature sent to a Foundation-controlled port and shipped to the closest appropriate containment facility.
"Sir?" the driver suddenly asked.
"What?" Commander Threads asked.
"There is a local herd boy and a flock of sheep crossing ahead," the driver reported.
"What should we do sir?" Commander Threads turned to the Red Right Hand.
"You know what to do," the Red Right Hand responded.
"Got it," Commander Threads said. He opened the automobile door and shouted for a couple of combat personnel to come near. Two operatives came with rifles in their hands, following Threads to the herd boy.
The Red Right Hand sighed. He pushed open the door and stepped outside the automobile.
"Threads," he said loudly.
"Sir?" Threads turned.
"You still failed to understand," The Red Right Hand stated, "Unnecessary bloodshed is unnecessary. He only has to stay silent of what he saw. And in this case, make him forget us entirely."
"Sorry," Commander Threads apologized and ordered the personnel to retrieve amnestic injectors from the supply truck.
The herd boy led his flock of sheep closer to the operatives and their vehicles. He seemed unaware of there existence, and sang absentmindedly of a strange song as he led the sheep across the wet fields.
The two operatives headed for the boy. He looked up at them and paused. He spoke out loud in a foreign language, in a calm and welcoming tone. The operatives took hold and grasped the boy's arm. The herd boy yelled and struggled, as they injected him with a proper dose of amnestics. He then relaxed his muscles, and collapsed onto the ground.
"By the time he awakes," the Red Right Hand remarked coolly, "Our existence would disappear, both in reality and in his mind." They opened the automobile door and climbed into the car.
Then, shockingly, the herd boy shook his head and helped himself up. He continued to herd his large flock of sheep, closer towards the task force personnel.
"What the hell…" Commander Threads said to himself as he pulled out his pistol. The Red Right Hand gestured him to stop.
"Let me see," he said. The Red Right Hand once again got out of the automobile. He gazed at the herdboy. The boy looked about the age of eleven or twelve. He was wearing tattered woolen clothes and wield a short herding whip. Little hair protruded from his head and face. As the Red Right Hand stepped closer, he saw that he had one blind eye, encased in a pale white film. The Red Right Hand had a sensation to shudder. Below his dead eye was jagged scar, etched deep into his tender skin.
"Greetings," the Red Right Hand opened his mouth and spoke.
The herd boy ignored him. He continued to sing nonchalantly.
The Red Right Hand gazed at the flock of sheep. Then it dawned to him that there were hundreds of sheep in different shapes, colors, and sizes trailing behind the careless herd boy. They all grazed along the fields in a systematic formation, not fighting or competing with one another for food.
"A very experienced sheep herder," The Red Right Hand remarked, "You are."
The herd boy suddenly spoke up in English. "Herding is not hard," he said, "No matter what animal. So I am a good sheep herder. You are, a very experienced, man herder."
The Red Right Hand chuckled.
"And what makes you think I am an experienced man herder?" he asked.
"I can just tell," the herder boy said. "Anyone can herd men. It's just a matter of whether if they can avoid being herded." He paused. "Here, follow me. I have something to show you."
"If I follow you, won't you be herding me?" the Red Right Hand replied.
"Sometimes," the boy said, "You need to endure and take the shame of being herded to live. Like you did 35 years ago."
The Red Right Hand tensed upon hearing what the boy said. How did he…
"I shall see," he said coldly to the herd boy. The Red Right Hand walked back to the readied vehicles. He opened his car door.
"What happened sir?" Threads inquired.
The Red Right Hand ignored him. He then spoke to the driver. "Follow the boy. I want to be conversant of everything in his mind."
 CI RECOVERED DOCUMENT  Gamma Clearance Document All content from the following document must remain unchanged unless personnel carries ALPHA approval. Translated Iteration This document is a translated iteration of Document-SU-Epilson. The original document was created and recorded in Japanese. |
Project Jozu
PROJECT CODENAME: Jozu
PROJECT #: 736284
PROJECT SUPERVISOR: Dr. Sozen Yamashita
PROPOSED DATE: █/██/1941
PROJECT PURPOSE: Utilize the current technological capabilities developed in the bio-genetics project Project Henkei to create the proposed S.U. of the Imperial Army of Japan.
CURRENT STATUS: In Progress
[DATA LOST]
Development Day 23
Test-SU-6:
Materials:
- One (1) Biological Explosion Sac Gamma
- ReSolater Theta Set
- One (1) surgical tool set
Subjects:
- One (1) male Mitsukurina owstoni specimen
[DATA LOST]
Notes:
- Specimen was sedated.
- Specimen was administered anesthesia.
- Specimen's blood level is in control.
- BEC Gamma successfully installed.
- BEC Gamma was successfully connected to specimen with RT "Strangler".
- Specimen is conscious.
- Specimen was administered again with ane[DATA LOST]
Incident Report: BEC Gamma was successfully activated by specimen. 6 reported personnel deaths, 14 injuries. Minor damage to facility. Test-SU-6 is deemed successful. BEC Gamma is fully operational.
Personal Notes of Dr. Sozen Yamashita:
[DATA LOST]
It was impossible. I have contacted the supervisors of Henkei program, even they agreed that this affair is pure madness.I served thirteen years for the Great Japanese Empire, and would still be racing in front on the battlefields if my right leg was still intact. However, this folly was out of hand and unrealistic. Even if a certain shark specimen could last long enough after the operation, it would still not follow our commands. The shark, is a beast. It eats who it wants to swallow, and would bite you from behind even if you raised it from young. I don't even want to bring up the genetic proposals; our current technology does not allow us to intervene their genes and install a new inorganic organ for them to grow. Furthermore, the shark species we are experimenting upon is extremely slow and costly for the utilization by the Empire. I apologize for my incapability, but this project is just blatantly absurd. The Emperor's shark unit is highly impractical and a bad joke.
11/6/1942
BEC Delta's production of HBT bistetrazole is highly uncontrolled, and could result the entrance into a specimen's bloodstream. But hell, so far it was much more appropriate than plain trinitrotoluene. Now the detonation could be performed without external human support. Aside from the problematic transplant procedures, the species internal space would not allow such a [DATA LOST] issues. I still strongly advocate for the abandonment of this project.
Development Day 49
Materials:
- One (1) Biological Explosion Sac Delta
- ReSolater Theta Set
- One (1) surgical tool set
Subjects:
- One (1) female Mitsukurina owstoni specimen
Procedure: BEC Delta is to be transplanted into Pos.#45 and maintained with RT set. Further compl[DATA LOST] reported to supervisor of project. Specimen is to be released into Area #6 subsequently and kept under surveillance.
Notes:
- Specimen sedated and tranquilized.
- Specimen was administered anesthesia.
- Specimen's blood level is in control.
- BEC Delta transplant failure.
- Specimen experiences severe blood loss
[DATA LOST]
- One (1) surgical too set
Procedure: BEC Delta is to be transplanted into Pos.#47 and maintained wi[DATA LOST] Further complications of transplant involving defections of BEC are to be reported to supervisor of project. Specimen is to be released into Area #6 subsequently and kept under surveillance.
Notes:
- Specimen sedated and tranquilized.
- Specimen was administered anesthesia.
- Blood level of specimen under control.
- BEC Delta transplant failure.
- Specimen experiences minor internal blood loss.
- Specimen bleeding under control.
- BEC Delta transplant success after second attempt.
- RT "Pulse" initiated.
- Specimen's blood level under control.
- Operation complete.
- Specimen transferred to Area #6.
- Specimen expires after 3 hours.
- Specimen carcass detonates. 2 injured personnel and minor damage detected in Area #6.
3/18/1943
The BEC series had its own short glory of triumph; but the project still gives us no light ahead. More than a third of the birthed specimens die off from defects. The high command still refused to provide additional assets for the Jozu program. Only nine percent of the specimens will be capable of living on for more than a week after a BEC transplant, and none of them managed to not accidentally trigger the BEC. Pretty sure that a shark's intelligence is not going to work for military utilization.
[DATA LOST]
6/3/1943
No. The brain transplant was an absolute disaster. How many times did I have to Mizushima that it was not possible for a human brain to function again in a shark's body? He was so mad over his recent "discoveries", that he disregarded common medical knowledge. But Mizushima did remind me something. This project is complete bullshit. I have bullshit colleagues, bullshit authorities, and I work on bullshit projects. I don't care what treatment they plan to impose on me, this project is not going to be carried out.
6/24/1943
Stupid. Absolutely ridiculous. I was pinned on this position, and called a "disgrace to the Emperor" for attempting to abandon this hell of a project! They insisted on this project's completion, whether it costs my life or not. I would give my life any day for the Emperor, but I shall not perish for such absurd cause.
BEC Epilson was not much of an advancement. Still most specimens failed to survive, and those who are in no condition of swimming or hunting.
[DATA LOST]
8/4/1943
I was failing. Today they took me in. They complained of my slow progress. I rebutted that this project was ridiculous and had no avail of completion, but guess what they decided. They took me in for a lesson, or a thorough beating, as a punishment for betraying the Great Empire of Japan. I never was disloyal to my country. I had no choice. This project was impossible to continue. But I don't want to insult my ancestors of refusing to serve the Emperor. We are all children of the Emperor, and we shall never turn against him. But there are those buffoons who pretend to be the masters under the Emperor, forcing our nation into a land of chaos and turmoil. I wish I served in the front lines of Manchuria or conquest of the Midway Islands instead of being stepped on with this joke of a project.
[DATA LOST]
9/27/1943
The following incident was recorded via the neighborhood surveillance cameras located outside the scene.
May 26th, 2014 11:34 PM
11:34 Five subjects in civilian clothing entered the residence belonging to Mr. Pollard located in ███ ██████ Street of ███████, ███████. Mr. Pollard was in the living room.
11:42 One subject was seen to be communication with his cell phone by the window. Subject was seen to be wielding a pistol.
11:44 Three individuals wearing black robes entered the residence. Two of the subjects carried a large cargo crate.
11:48 Loud shouting could be heard.
11:49 All loud commotions ceased.
11:52 A large group of assault members belonging to the Global Occult Coalition were seen near the residence.
11:54 GOC personnel opened fire at all subjects in the residence. Subjects in the house retaliated.
11:56 All subjects in the house were killed. GOC personnel entered the residence.
11:59 A shrill mechanical sound was heard.
12:00 GOC personnel exited the residence. Several members were seen carrying a large metal container.
12:07 All GOC personnel left the scene.
"I want to know, who the hell authorized the item's use!" Dr. Deny shouted.
"We don't know," Porter replied, "When I came both guards were drugged. The item was gone."
"So it was stolen," Dr. Deny responded furiously, "With you on security.""
"I-I am sorry," Porter stammered, "We just didn't…"
"Sorry?" Dr. Deny raised his voice again. "I don't want apologies, dammit! I want answers. Who, took the fucking item!"
Porter gulped. "We're still investigating on this case," he finally managed to say, "But it was difficult since the surveillance videos were erased."
"Listen," Dr. Deny said, "This is a serious breach in the security. I want you and your hell of a team to cease all other activities and start investigating now. If you have any updates, inform me immediately."
"We already have an update," Porter whispered. He reached in his pocket a took out a blood-stained note. "We found a note on the scene."
"What does it say?" Dr. Deny inquired.
"We must remember our cause," Porter read, "We must remember how to make sacrifices for the greater good. We must remember, that we are the Insurgency of Chaos, advancing by using illogic to reach logic. We must remember, the words of Haos."
Dr. Deny turned. "Continue investigation," he ordered. "Find out whose blood does it belong to on the note."
Field Agent Howard stepped into the house. He greeted Dr. Simons.
"Hello, Howard," Simons responded, "So, a summary of the scene. Last night multiple unidentified subjects were seen entering this residence. They stayed in the house, had an argument with the other civilian subjects inside. Shortly after, GOC personnel arrived and killed all subjects in the house. It was probable that they were on the way, as usual, to retrieve an item."
"Are there any signs of anomalies within the proximity?" Agent Howard asked.
"We found nothing yet," Dr. Simons replied, "But it is very likely that GOC personnel erased all traces before they left."
"Are any subjects identified?" Agent Howard asked as he scanned the room.
"Only the civilian subjects," Dr. Simons said, "All the robed subjects are facially disfigured, and so far unidentified."
"Is it confirmed that the identified subjects are just civilians?" Agent Howard.
"No, not yet." Simons responded. Another person entered the room.
"Hello," a man in a black suit and shades said. "I am Agent Horace, representing the Unusual Incidents Unit of the FBI. May I ask you a few questions?"
Agent Howard cursed silently. What was he doing here?
"Yes. I am Dr. Simons of the SCP Foundation. And he is Agent Walt Howard. We are here to investigate this scene, as it has the involvement of the Global Occult Coalition."
"Sir?"
"Yes?" Dr. Deny replied.
"We analyzed the blood samples on the note. Turned out it belonged to seven different subjects,” Porter reported.
“Different subjects?” Dr. Deny asked and narrowed his eyes, “Seven?”
“Yes,” Porter confirmed.
“Do any of them match our personnel’s blood samples in this site’s database?” Dr. Deny asked.
“Only one,” Porter said.
“Who was it?” Dr. Deny asked as he turned towards Porter.
“TWO’s,” Porter replied.
“What?” Dr. Deny asked again.
“The blood sample belonged to TWO,” Porter clarified. He leaned towards Deny’s ear and whispered, “Your Intelligentsia coordinator.”
Dr. Deny’s eyes widened and nodded. TWO. He needed to see him now.
“Alright,” Dr. Deny said, “I will be establishing a special team that will be assigned to just be investigating this case. For now before I can assemble a team, keep investigating.”
"Yes sir," Porter said as he saluted, and then walked out of the office.
"An update on the case," Dr. Simons said as he took a bite out of his sandwich. "We found abnormal substances on the scene."
"What type of substance?" Agent Walt Howard asked. He sipped from the soda can.
"Hydrochloric acid," Dr. Simons replied, "Very small amounts under a rug."
I walked across the grassy plains, filled with the smell of flowers. The sun glistened on the sky, and the soft grass danced in the gentle breeze. I stepped forward.
What is happening?
Am I in paradise?
I walked near a tree, seeing a doe munching berries from a nearby bush. I turned around, there were vibrant colors everywhere. So vibrant it seemed unreal.
Where am I?
Am I in paradise?
I walked forward into the forests, as my bare feet relaxed itself in the soft soil. I took a deep breath, smelling the wonderful scents of nature.
I am in paradise.
I heard running water, and I walked towards the sound. I felt thirsty. The stream felt inviting. I strolled slowly towards a peaceful flowing stream. I knelt down, and took a drink from it. It was refreshing.
"Hello." A soft voice said behind me.
I turned around, seeing a human figure sitting near the stream. She smiled at me.
I tensed as I saw her beautiful dark hair and her small pale face. She laughed and her cheeks turned scarlet as I looked at her.
Where am I? Am I in paradise?
Paradise? Paradise, it is.
I felt my heart melting and my skin flaring as I got up. I walked towards her, the world getting more vibrant and colorful as I took each step.
Suddenly, a dark cold force engulfed my vision from behind. The heartwarming colors of paradise were soon gone.
I felt something cold.
I opened my eyes and saw a dim ball of brightness shining above my head. Am I still in paradise?
No.
Subject is now awake. Initiating fourth inoculation. The voice was heard from a speaker nearby.
I moved my arms, but they were stuck to the surface I am lying on. Where am I?
Then a cold, ruthless wave of pain struck my head. I screamed, but I cannot hear myself. My head fell limp and my eyes went dark again.
I felt something cold.
I opened my eyes and saw a dim ball of brightness shining above my head. Am I still in paradise?
No.
Subject is now awake. Initiating fifth inoculation. The voice was heard from a speaker nearby.
I moved my arms, but they were stuck to the surface I am lying on. Where am I?
Then a cold, ruthless wave of pain struck my head. I screamed, but I cannot hear myself. My head fell limp and my eyes went dark again.
I felt something cold.
I opened my eyes and saw a dim ball of brightness shining above my head. Am I in paradise?
Strange images started to appear in my mind. Gunshots. Sewers. Shouting. Blood.
Blood.
Blood.
Subject is awake. Subject's mental state remains unstable. Initiating sixth inoculation.
I winced and struggled. It's coming again.
Then a cold, ruthless wave of pain struck my head. I screamed, but I cannot hear myself. My head fell limp and my eyes went dark again.
I felt something cold.
I opened my eyes and saw a dim ball of brightness shining above my head. I felt surprisingly relaxed. I moved my arms, but they were stuck to my bed. Where am I?
Then the door opened. An old man in a white coat walked in. I cannot see what he looked like, I can only see the reflection of light on his spectacles.
"Good evening, Hugh." the man said, but he remained in the room's shadow.
"Where am I?" I asked him. He chuckled.
"You were in paradise," he said, "Enjoying the wonderful gifts of nature that all men crave."
"Am I in paradise still?" I asked again, glancing around the shadowy room.
He sighed. "I'm afraid not," the man said as he walked out of the darkness, as the light unveiled his mysterious appearance. The man was tall, pale and skinny. He had a pair of dark round glasses rested on his nose. He was bald and had no eyebrows. In fact, his whole face was free of hair. He had two bright eyes glimmering in the dark. One eye was sky blue and the other was neon green. As he walked even closer, I began to see the even more unpleasant features of him. A jagged scar was drawn deep into his skin under his left eye.
"I am afraid that you are back into the world of hell you belonged for so long," the man whispered viciously into my ear, "And you will never return to paradise ever again."
I struggled against the restraints. I felt desperate to see the colors of that place again. "Why have you brought me back? Get me out of this place!"
He chuckled again. "There is one way, so you can get back to paradise," he said. He paused. The man came close to my ear again and whispered, "If you want to return to paradise, you have to die for the Falchion. You will have to serve for Haos." He laughed, showing his gleaming white teeth. I yelled. I kicked around. He kept laughing.
"I am serving for no one!" I shouted.
"Are you sure?" he said seriously. The doctor reached his hand towards a piece of machinery and pressed a button on it.
Initiating Final Inoculation…
I watched in horror as blue shining liquid charged up the injector stabbed into my stomach, shoulders, and neck.
"Hope you will learn to make the right choice soon," the doctor said before leaving the room.
I yelled in agony as multiple blue centipedes on fire covered my vision. Images flashed into my mind. Painful images.
Guns.
Bullets.
Strike teams.
Foundation.
Insurgency.
Falchion.
Haos.
Attack.
Escape.
Sewers.
Trap.
Shots.
Wounds.
Blood. Blood.
Blood.
Blood.
Haos.
Haos.
For Haos.
I woke up.
I was standing, restrained on a board with metal rings.
I felt pain on my neck. My stomach. And my whole body.
"Welcome to the New Chaos Insurgency," A voice beeped in the speaker nearby.
"We are the Insurgency of Chaos, making a better world out of this place. Making logic out of illogic."
"We follow the Haos Doctrine."
"Before the advent of logic, humans were shackled in chains forged of ignorance. They were exploited by religion, encouraged to blindly accept superstitions and myths. The few individuals refusing mindless submission suffered brutal oppression, persecuted by the intolerant ones who feared the truth. These people condemned humanity to senseless holy wars resulting in unnecessary bloodshed. It would take many years of toil before people gradually saw reason and heralded our species ultimate Enlightenment."
"A glorious future awaited all…" it continued.
"But were misled," I suddenly responded. Thoughts came like torrents into my mind. "The thinkers among us have reverted to the roles of our previous oppressors. They utilize logic against logic, withholding the promised knowledge. The new millennium has passed and we are more ignorant than ever! We pursuers of thought walk a path lined with taboos. Only we dare tread this forbidden path, for no one else dared travel where we walk. But if we are to advance to the next step and take our rightful place, such sacrifices must be made for the greater good. For our destiny! Only we can usher in the new age - only we can change this stagnant world. We are the force against the onslaught, the sole force making a difference."
"You've been chosen as the soldiers of Haos himself and the Falchion," the speaker said, "If you serve the Insurgency well, you will be granted back into paradise."
"Will you, Agent ___ Hugh, serve for Haos and die for the Falchion?"
"My pleasure."
"Welcome to the Insurgency of Chaos," it said in a lighter tone, "You are the nucleus of the new army. Your code name is Epilson. You are reporting to the Special Strike Force Beta-Four, receiving commands directly from Alpha commander Dr. Edward Grimshire Deny. Welcome again, Agent Epsilon."
The restraints disappeared. I collapsed to the ground.
My neck was in tearing pain. I rested my hand on it. It had a bulging mountain of flesh, with something shifting under the skin.
I felt my stomach. A large bloody flesh mass with holes was attached to it. I had trouble with breathing.
I tensed. I picked up a rifle nearby.
And pointing it at the overgrown flesh on my throat, I fired.
"Are the members ready?" Dr. Edward Grimshire Deny asked.
"Subjects seemed quite obedient," Dr. Friedrich replied, "I've personally checked them. They are safe to use now."
"Good," Dr. Deny sighed. Dr. Friedrich walked away. Since the OURANOS class was established, the Insurgency has been somewhat stabilized from the smoke of chaos. There are a few Loyalist resistance forces left sprinkled around the world here and there, but the Insurgency now has a strong nucleus. The tension between the ALPHA personnel had ceased, thanks to the control of what they call the Intelligentsia.
The Procedure was almost complete. A new Insurgency had risen, risen anew serving humanity. It may be young, but its visions are outreaching. Their leader, Haos, was said by some to be the one to provide support the Aleph-11-Tango unknowingly to most members of the Falchion. Others say it was moonshine and that Haos is a hoax and never existed. Dr. Deny had neutral views on Haos as a person, but he devotedly put faith into his doctrines and teachings. To him, the man Haos was his visions.
However, Dr. Deny did not have faith in the Intelligentsia. The Insurgency was filled with a history of rivalry, conflicts, military coups, and tension from all sides. Each ALPHA personnel basically established their own militia, and they were still existing and grinding against each other until recently. If one day cracks emerge in the Intelligentsia, surely the Insurgency will plunge into chaos (ironically). Dr. Deny needed to prepare to survive and continue to spread the words spoken by Haos himself.
He arrived at the station. He calmly took a step into the well-lit room, and stood in front of the observation window.
"They are prepared," Dr. Friedrich whispered, "They must be."
Dr. Deny cleared his throat. "All assets of SSF Beta-4, assemble and report to duty."
Twenty four individuals in heavy combat armor emerged from the cell doors. They walked slowly and systematically in a line, closing in into a tight formation of shining plates. They raised their guns and looked up towards Dr. Deny.
"Alpha," Dr. Deny spoke.
"Reporting for duty," a voice said.
"Beta."
"Reporting for duty."
"Gamma."
"Reporting for duty."
"Delta."
"Reporting for duty."
"Epsilon."
"Epsilon."
"I'm sorry," Dr. Freidrich suddenly said, "Epsilon had recently shot his throat due to unfamiliarity with parts extracted from the Creation of Darwin. He has healed well, but still cannot speak yet."
Dr. Deny nodded. At last, a programmable force is under him. Project Lupa deemed successful.
Two years after
"All loyalist influences have been wiped out globally."
"That is your improper method of viewing them, as the ignorant doctors facing cancerous growth. You eradicate the surface of them, they lurk along in the background only to return with a strike from the shadows," Haos responded.
"What do you expect us to do?" ALPHA Commander Crayfish urged. "The Loyalists had their asses burned off the face of the planet. Where do you want us to strike next? Mars?"
"Commander Crayfish, the roots of ignorance lies in your very own heart and mind," Haos replied.
"What are you saying?" Crayfish demanded.
"Silence!" ALPHA commander Andromeda spat.
"Correct me if I am wrong," THREE stated, "Are you proposing a full-scale reform of the Insurgency to clear itself even further from Loyalist methods?"
"There are two faces of a problem when you encounter one," Haos said, "One is resulted from harmful external forces that threaten your existence. Another is the negative, ignorant thoughts in your mind you possess that pushes you to sympathize your foes."
"So a inner reform," TWO confirmed, "I am now seeing atrocious rules you are proposing to shape the inner structure of the Insurgency."
All the other ALPHA personnel were silent as the Intelligentsia debated with a speaker attached to an empty chair. Haos had so far made no appearances. This led some ALPHAs to question his existence.
Dr. Deny sighed, impatient with the arguing.
"I suggest we impose these regulations on a small section of the Insurgency first," FIVE said. "We will initiate by allowing Commander Crayfish to experiment them on his area of command."
"What the hell?" Commander Crayfish complained. "There are certainly others in this room who has more Loyalist habits than I have," he said while scanning his eyes across the ALPHAs in the meeting room.
 |
|
| Item Pincer Coffin during empty state |
|---|
| Item: | Pincer Coffin |
| Size: | Height ███ centimeters; Weight ██ kilograms |
| Type: | Wooden coffin |
| Living: | Unknown |
| Sentient | Possible |
| Location: | Base Five |
Usage
Item is able to be used as temporal protection for certain subjects during emergency events. The use of Item is best avoided, and it should be only utilized as a last-resort for protecting subjects.
To use, said subjects are to be instructed to lie down in the Item and remain inside it for at least 20 minutes. New subjects are required to be tranquilized and evacuated from hazardous locations.
Update: From now on, a dead human body is required to be placed into the Item every five years.
Report
The Item appears to be a plain pinewood coffin assembled together with iron door hinges and screws. Item has shown resistance to physical damage and gradual rotting. Originally recovered in a cemetery located in a rural area near ███████, England, the Item came to the Insurgency's attention after reports made by local civilians of a "dead-raising" coffin. Item was later transported to Facility ████-██ in 19██. Item is now stored in Base Five.
When a subject enters and lies down in the Item, the coffin lid will shut itself and remain irremovable for the next 15 minutes. After approximately 20 minutes after the subject's entrance into the Item, a different individual will move open the Item lid and leave the Item. All individuals that came out of the Item were supposedly deceased, and tended to be in a psychologically unstable state. When the different individuals are reinserted back into the Item the same events would occur, except that the original subject would return inside the Item. Currently it is still unclear on how is this process carried out. See Appendix C.
Appendix A
The following log was recorded when a subject was first tested on the Item.
Test Log-PC-Alpha
█/██/████ 9:31Subject: ████ ██████, a 43 year old Caucasian male
<Begin Log,>
0954: Subject enters Item. Item lid closes.
0958: Wood cracking noises are heard. Subject starts screaming and pounding the Item lid. Struggling noises could be heard inside Item.
0961: Screaming ceases. Deep groaning vocalization can be heard from the Item
0965: Loud snapping noises are heard from Item.
0968: A significant amount of the subject's blood starts to leak from the Item.
0972: Blood stops flowing.
0973: Blood starts to retract backwards towards the Item.
0975: Wet, squishing noises are heard from the Item.
0979: Clicking sounds are heard from the Item.
0982: All sounds cease.
0983: Screaming starts again from Item. An unidentified individual pushes open the Item lid and runs out. Subject tranquilized on sight.<End Log,>
Note: The individual was later identified as Thomas Headley, whom died of cholera 124 years prior.
Appendix B: As of ██/██/████, Item stopped to perform its normal functions. Numerous attempts were made to find out what caused this event and how to fix the Item, none of them succeeded in returning Item back to normal. At ██/██/████, Insurgency personnel Dr. Garrison tested on inserting a dead human body into the Item. Then a conversation was made between Dr. Garrison and an unidentified deep vocalization from the Item (referred as Item-PC-A). Item returned to normal state subsequently. The following transcript records the conversation:
Transcript-PC-Theta ██/██/████ ██:██
<Begin Log,>
Item-PC-A: I sincerely thank thou for thy offerings, young doctor.
Dr. Garrison: Excuse me?
Item-PC-A: I am fain to help people and I will always remain that way. but I need assistance from mine lord to help thou mortals to escape.
Dr. Garrison: Who, may I inquire, is your lord?
Item-PC-A: Mine lord is feared by all of thou. Mine lord thrives in the shadows. Mine lord inhabits the place of ground that thou will try to stay aroint from.
Dr. Garrison: How do you help us?
Item-PC-A: Thou mortals toiled and toiled again and again in thy ordinary. I tender thou escape from thy painful ordinary into the home mine lord dwells in.
Dr. Garrison: Escape..by leaving our world?
Item-PC-A: Ay, young doctor. As said 'ere, I will be always fain to tender thou escape. But for a meet and legal action, I hast to follow the rules of mine lord. A dead for an alive and an alive for a dead.
Dr. Garrison: A dead man for an alive man and an alive man for a dead?
Item-PC-A: I doth not hast a good enough of a reason to add souls to mine lord's dwelling. I hast to keep things same as 'ere.
Dr. Garrison: Why did you stop helping us a while ago?
Item-PC-A: Mine lord felt spleen and annoyance at me. He demanded me to help him in his affairs as a return to him helping mine. He stopped helping me to exchange souls in his dwelling. I thank thou again for helping me.
Dr. Garrison: How did I help you?
Item-PC-A: Collecting gone souls is a tiresome job, but 'tis mine lord's role. Mine lord hath to traverse thy ordinary to find recently lost souls. The dead belongs to the earth. With the corse thou just provided, I can hand it to mine lord so he can easily put it whence it belongs. In return, mine lord may be fain enough to help me. If thou mortals still want mine help, thou will need to hand me a corse every five years from anon on. It's just a shame that thou mortals always want to leave mine lord's dwelling and go back into thy ordinary after a time period. Anon colours me, as I need to hand this to mine lord. Farewell, young doctor.
Dr. Garrison: Farewell…your name sir?
(The body placed inside disappears from the Item.)
<End Log,>
Appendix C: A standard definition camcorder with an attached flashlight was placed inside the Item with a subject for testing. The following transcript records the process.
Test Log-PC-Epilson
█/██/████ 19:23Subject: ██████ ████, a 37 year old African American male
<Begin Log,>
1913: Subject enters Item with camcorder. Item lid closes in front of camera.
1917: Wood cracking noises are heard from two sides of the coffin. Numerous black pincers emerged from the side of the coffin and reaches towards subject. Subject starts to scream and swing camcorder. Subject proceeds to push pincers away and bang on the Item lid.
1918: Pincers start to make minor cuts over the subject's body; subject continues to scream and struggle.
1919: Pincers start to make deep and major cuts over the body of the subject; subject continues to scream and struggle against the pincers.
1920: Pincers proceed to break puncture major veins of the subject and slices through the subject's trachae; subject stops screaming and moving. Deep vocalizations are heard.
1921: Camcorder is dropped; pincers pushes it aside to continue on mutilating the subject's body.
1922: Loud, snapping sound of bones are heard.
1924: Subject's blood obstructs camcorder's view.
1925: Clicking sounds are heard.
1927: Blood starts to flow off the camera and back towards the subject's body
1928: Pincers are in process of placing subject's flesh on the subject's skeleton.
1929: Subject's body shape and skin coloration changes.
1933: Subject starts to move and struggle; subject screams and pushes open Item lid.
<End Log,>Note: The new subject is identified as Jane Davenport, a Caucasian female. Subject died of lung cancer in 1934.
 |
|
| Photograph of Item before [REDACTED] |
|---|
| Item: | Old Grandfather |
| Size: | Height █.██ meters; Weight ██ kilograms |
| Living: | Yes |
| Sapient: | Yes |
| Reported Anomaly: | Displaying a series of effects when provoked |
| Potential/Current Hazards | Attacking personnel if too close |
| Location: | Base ████ |
Usage
Item can be utilized for temporal site protection in emergency events. Item must be rendered unconscious2 in order to be moved to designated locations and no personnel be withing 10 meters from Item. Regular food and water supplies should be provided three times a day in a location Item is aware of.
Furthermore, personnel is required to leave Item immediately if negative interactions are made.
Report
Item is an elderly male Caucasian subject. Item claims to be 124 years old, and all lab results regarding age of Item are inconclusive. Item also claims to be an American military veteran who served during the World War I, World War II, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War. No personal records or legal documents could be found about Item, and Item currently has no known relatives. Item was originally found walking near Base ████ and showing hostility towards guards when told to leave. Item was moved into Insurgency custody after displaying anomalous effects in the said event.
When a subject is approximately within 10 meters of Item, it will show distaste and frustration at the subject and will inform the subject to leave. If the subject persists, Item will become enraged and will threaten to harm the subject if the subject does not comply.
| Item: | Imperial Sharks |
| Size: | 2.8 to 3 meters; 175 to 200 kg |
| Living: | Yes |
| Sapient: | Yes |
| Potential/Current Hazards | Displaying hostility to unidentified handlers |
| Required Wear/Weaponry | All personnel handling item are required to wear a World War II era Japanese army uniform |
| Location: | Base Six |
 |
|
| Recovered report of Item written in 1944 |
|---|
Usage
Item is capable of destroying or severely damaging enemy ship fleets when properly directed. Personnel interacting with specimens are required to be able to speak fluent Japanese and be dressed with a WWII Japanese Army uniform displaying a rank of army lieutenant or higher. Item could be only deployed into a large source of saline water, but possess the capability of damaging structures and killing enemy personnel when near shore. All personnel are advised to remain as far as possible away from shark specimens. Normally all Item specimens are to be put into separate aquarium containers with the minimum size of 8.5m x 8.5m x 4m filled with salt water. All Item specimens must be fed with at least 20 kilograms of raw mollusks or deep-sea squids every 4 weeks.
As a reminder, a specific order must be directed to Item specimens prior to deployment.
Report
Item includes 28 specimens of an anomalous species belonging to the Mitsukurina genus. Item originated as the Mitsukurina owstoni species but was later genetically modified in a project (See Document-Shark Unit Epilson) performed by scientists from the Japanese government during 1944. Specimens are currently sapient, and show a basic understanding of the Japanese language. Specimens will display hostility towards any subject that it perceives as a supporter of the Allied Forces in World War II. All Item specimens will respond to commands directed by a lieutenant or higher ranked WWII Japanese military official and support anyone who they view as allies with the Japanese Empire in World War II, albeit they have a tendency to judge subjects' identity by their appearance.
All Item specimens possess a long, penetrative snout mainly composed out of manganese-steel alloy enveloped with skin tissue. Specimens will utilize its snout to impale individual enemy subjects. Specimens are capable of detecting enemy ships within a 10 kilometer radius. If a specimen encounters an enemy ship, it will promptly approach the ship and attempt to attach itself to the ship by piercing its bottom with the shark's snout. When close to a ship or enemies on a nearby shore Item specimens will proceed to do what it appears to be inflating themselves. After approximately 10 seconds, the specimens will release an explosion with the force roughly equivalent with 4.5 kilograms of detonated Trinitrotoluene (TNT). Due to the rather undetectable size of the Item, specimens have proven effective weapons for bringing destruction to enemy ships. Specimens that are trapped on land will also detonate when they detect "threats", which prevented them from ever being studied by enemies. As specimens tend to display hostility towards a large amount of subjects, a direct order specifying targets must be given before they are deployed for operation to reduce collateral damage.
 |
|
| USS ████████ after SCP Foundation personnel's evacuation |
|---|
Appendix A:
At the date of █/██/████ █:██, an SCP Foundation reconnaissance ship (USS ████████) was spotted 18.5 kilometers away from the ██████ shore and Base █. Two Item specimens were instructed with specific commands and deployed by the CI Naval Strike Team-16. Approximately ██ minutes after the deployment, USS ████████ was reported to be in a severely damaged state. Most SCP Foundation personnel were able to evacuate before the ship sinks fully. The future use of Item Imperial Sharks was approved after this successful operation, as specimens proved themselves capable of destroying enemy ships effectively without being detected or captured by enemy personnel.
Spacing magicks
Appendix B: ██ after the completion of Operation-15-A, a wireless radio transmission was sent from an unknown source. The following message was interpreted from the transmission.
Tenno Heika Banzai
Agent Hugh chuckled at their quick defeat as two strike team members escorted him and Dr. Garrison out of the office. They had a four elite strike teams guarding that facility. There was absolutely no way the Falchionists could break through their defense. Every single corner, every entrance, ranging from big gates to small trapdoors leading to tunnels throughout the facility were under intent watch. But all teams still ended up being decimated like ants after an ambush by unspotted Falchion personnel.
Hugh’s scanned the areas for possible entrances as they tiptoed down the hallway. What the hell could have gone wrong? Holes in the walls? No. Embedded spies within their team? No, he had not seen any Resurgents before. Hugh reached towards his belt and reluctantly took out his Beretta M9 pistol. He was known for being an astounding sharpshooter; he had received promotions as a strike team commander for multiple times. But Hugh refused. He would not admit the fact to anyone, but he will grow sick and faint at the sight of blood. Hugh hated the blasting sounds that firearms emit. He muttered multiple times to himself that he will never be engaged in a gunfight. But analyzing the situation now, he probably will.
“Wow,” Dr. Garrison gasped, “Slow down! You haven’t told me what happened.”
“The damn Resurgents,” a strike team member replied, “Came out of nowhere. We had no time to prepare.”
“What the hell do you mean by ‘out of nowhere’?” Dr. Garrison whispered loudly, flabbergasted. “I thought you said you had guards everywhere!”
“At every entrance!” the other strike team member replied. “They must’ve came from somewhere underground. They must have spies on our side!”
The doctor, the agent, and the two strike team members dodged into a nearby storage closet as they heard footsteps coming nearby. One of the team member slammed open the door at the back of the closet.
“Do you realize that we are fleeing in circles?” Dr. Garrison said silently but firmly at the strike team members.
“Of course we do!” the strike team member replied as he led them down the hallway, “Now we just…” The man stopped in his tracks near the restrooms. His expression grew surprised and he suddenly turned and stormed into the restroom.
“What’s the matter?” Agent Hugh asked. “Do you really need to go now?”
“No, you dolt!” he cried. “Get over here!” The other strike team member led the doctor and Agent Hugh into the restroom. They looked down at a toilet stall. The door was ripped off and near the toilet was a deep man-sized hole.
“The sewers!” he cursed to himself, “They came from the fucking sewers!” Less than a second later Agent Hugh heard footsteps marching down the hallway. He was about to warn the team before a loud voice outside the restroom interrupted him.
“Attention! All personnel, drop your weapons and surrender to the Falchion! The facility is surrounded.”
"Damn," Dr. Garrison spat. "We are really screwed now."
"Wait," Agent Hugh replied. He looked down the dark hole, its long shadowy arm grappled to the sewer ground. "Are you now thinking what I'm thinking?"
“Don’t tell me you are considering going down there,” Dr. Garrison said furiously and shook his head. “Straight into the Falchion’s nests”.
"We can attempt to contact help from other bases," the strike team member suggested. He pulled out a small radio out of his belt and extended its antenna.
"I am gonna contact Base Three," he said. He turned the dial as the radio buzzed.
"Come out, now!" the Falchionists ordered from outside.
The radio's buzzing cleared a voice emerged. "The Falchionists have broken our outer defense. Please send reinforcements to Base Number Three."
"Goddamnit," the strike team member cursed. "Base Three is the closest base from here. There is no other facility close enough to send help on time."
"What are we going to do?" Dr. Garrison urged.
"Drop your weapons, put your hands on your head, and come out!" the strike teams outside yelled.
"There is one way. We can contact external help," the other strike team member spoke up.
"What do you mean by external help?" Agent Hugh asked.
"We can give the SCP Foundation this base's location," the strike team member said. "Although this won't gain much benefits towards the Insurgency, but once they are raiding the facility the SCP personnel will surely decimate all the Falchionists' main assault force."
"No," Dr. Garrison responded firmly, "Exposing this vital base's information to the SCP Foundation will cause unimaginable costs to the Insurgency."
"I'll give you ten seconds!" the voice boomed from outside.
"We must go into the tunnel or we are doomed for sure," Agent Hugh said. Dr. Garrison sighed and shook his head, but proceeded to climb down the rope ladder into the hole.
Hugh and the strike team members followed. They descended into a large dark tunnel filled with stench and dampness.
We gotta keep moving," Agent Hugh urged. The two strike team members led them into the pipe-filled maze. They twisted and turned when they heard the marching footsteps behind them. Gunshots were fired and yells were heard.
The strike team members, the agent, and the doctor stopped at a dead end. There was a rusty metal ladder leading to the top of the ceiling.
"Doctor, you go first. We will hold off the Falchionists as long as we could," Agent Hugh whispered.
"Oh cease your altruistic bullshit," Dr. Garrision replied. "Come up if you can."
Agent Hugh remained behind the wall as the sound of footsteps came closer and closer to them. Dr. Garrison hurriedly slid up the ladder and disappeared. Agent Hugh was about to move out to the ladder, but suddenly a gunshot was fired and a strike team member nearby collapsed.
“Hugh,” the remaining strike team personnel urged, “Go up and protect the doctor, now!”
Agent Hugh lowered his back as he race for the ladder. The strike team member threw a grenade at the incoming Falchion personnel.
He reached the rough ladder and proceeded to climb upwards. He then made a mistake of looking back at the fallen strike team member’s body.
His face was pale, highlighted with blue veins. Dark, fresh blood was oozing out of a gaping hole pierced in his skull.
Agent Hugh wavered. He had a shortness of breath.
Blood.
His vision was fuzzy. His ears were numb from the gunshots.
Blood.
“Hugh,” the strike team member gasped, “Move!”
Agent Hugh head was dizzy. He possessed an urge to vomit. His face and palms were sweating.
He used his fragile arms and lightly pushed himself upwards.
Then a gunshot was heard. A piercing pain emerged from his left shoulder. Agent Hugh faltered and fell from the ladder, onto the damp, concrete floor of the tunnel.
“Surrender to the Falchion!” a voice shouted. His mind was blank.
“Be quiet,” a cold voice uttered. An old man in a white lab coat emerged out of the darkness.
He had no hair or eyebrows. His eyes gleamed, one green and one blue, like that of a Persian cat. A dark, long scar etched beneath his blue eye.
“Doctor, that damned Garrison has escaped the facility.”
“A predictable act of fear,” he answered, “Dr. Deny had preparations. He’ll make sure a grain of sand won’t even leave our sight.”
“What should we do to him? the Falchionist gestured towards Hugh.
“Ah,” the old man chuckled, “The legendary Agent Hugh. SCP Foundation’s Site 5 Director Derek Montes, brought down with a bullet from Hugh through two skyscrapers.”
“What?”
“Deny has plans for him. Take him,” he replied.
Dr. Martin Caduceus stepped out of the room after he finished the weekly psychological evaluation of Edward Denhai. It was a whole frustrating hour of listening to bullshit. An whole hour of listening to Denhai babbling on about his scythe. Even under the influence of his notorious mental-illness-curing skills and the comfortable couch he used for the process Denhai did not get any better. He shouldn't have wasted so much time on him.
Martin walked slowly down the hallways and into his office. The day has made him frustrated. He felt like dartgunning someone's ass, but Dr. Deny placed a new rule of prohibiting shooting at personnel without good cause. Well, at least now the Shrek statue Dr. Strate made for Martin's birthday can actually be used for something.
After Shrek crumpled like a piñata, Martin sighed and placed his dartgun down. He propped himself into his leather chair and looked at his schedule. Recently, for some reason, Dr. Deny has been watching him, especially during his chats with QUAESITOR. After he discovered that Dr. Deny was surveying him with the security cameras, Dr. Deny placed another rule of 'not shooting at site surveillance cameras without good cause'.
Martin smiled at the thought of QUAESITOR. He was still puzzled why, but it was a great joy to talk with that spacecraft. Quasi had curious and cheerful nature for a machine. Despite being kilometers away, he hadn't felt the warmth from anyone for such a long time. He never felt so upbeat since… Dr. Caduceus reached towards his distant past, looking for a joyful moment. It was so long ago. Martin then remembered his history of dartgunning and invasive surgeries. He was never actually having a good time.
But the moment changed when he first started to communicate with her. When he first the ditty sounds of Morse code from QUAESITOR and saw her soar swiftly in the blue skies, he felt extremely free and yearned for adventure. Martin was tired from concealing himself in the shadows, away from the areas the SCP Foundation prospers, away into the margin of the world. Laying his eyes for the first time on Quasi's slender metallic body and intent red sensor, Martin felt compelled towards her graceful orbits and her seemingly innocent curiosity of the wide world. He wondered what brings her away from her home to this blue, intricate planet. Is it the nature? Is it the supernature? Or is it…him?
Martin slowly closed his eyes and remembered the wondrous moments he shared with her. Quasi always greeted him in a cheerful, warm manner, no matter what time of the day. It is strange to feel heartwarming talking with an artificial creature. Martin could also tell she felt pleased talking to him to, as he can always detect her full concentration on him when he was typing to her. He could sense her fascination towards him gain each time he talks to her. Martin wished he can see her up close one day.
In the middle of this peaceful and romantic moment, the irritating notification noise of his computer sounded. Martin sighed and clicked on it. It was a new message.
Subject: Regards on QUAESITOR's recent behavior
To: Dr. Martin Caduceus
From: Dr. Edward Deny
QUAESITOR has been displaying strange behaviors lately. According to all the reports from Montgomery-1 to 4, the Item started to orbit in gradually smaller circles yesterday, and lowered significantly in altitude this noon. QUAESITOR also started to send incomprehensible messages a while ago. From the order of the Alpha Command you have been temporarily assigned to QUAESITOR to investigate the cause of its erratic behavior. As you have spent an extensive amount of time contacting with the Item, I am inclined to believe that you may be able to tackle this issue better than anyone else.
Martin felt a wave of adrenaline pulsing through his body when seeing the message is about Quasi. He rubbed his eyes and reread the message. He was assigned to QUAESITOR. He wanted to smile and shoot darts at the Shrek remains in joy, but something troubled him. Why was Quasi slowing down? Why was she lowering down and sending unreadable messages? Is there possibly an error with the AI system? Martin cringed at the thought of that. And most of all…Dr. Deny seemed to be more than aware of his recent interest.
He replied:
Subject: Re: Regards on QUAESITOR's recent behavior
To: Dr. Martin Caduceus
From: Dr. Edward Deny
Got it. I will be coming shortly.
Dr. Caduceus arrived at Montgomery-3. He stepped out of the helicopter and walked into the facility. His pace quickened as he heard the distant tune of Morse Code.
Martin was almost running by the time he reached the door. He opened it and a surge of warm air blew into his face. He saw several researchers staring blankly at the monitor, listening to the strange messages QUAESITOR sent. Then he turned and saw Dr. Deny.
"You're here," Dr. Deny said with a chuckle, "You've been quite active here lately."
Martin ignored his scoffing tone. "What's the matter?" he asked.
"Just listen," Dr. Deny replied and directed his attention towards the wide monitor.
.- .-. . / -.-- --- ..- / ... . . .. -. --. / .- -. -.-- - .... .. -. --. / -.. .. ..-. ..-. . .-. . -. - / ..- .--. / - .... . .-. . ..--.. Are you seeing anything different up there?
.-..-. .... .. ... / --. .- --.. . / ... .-.. .. -.. / --- ...- . .-. / -- . / .-.. .. -.- . / .- / ...- . .. .-.. / --- ..-. / ..-. .. .-. . .-.-.- / .... . / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. / .. --. -. .. - . / -- -.-- / -.. . . .--. . ... - / -.. . ... .. .-. . ... / .-- .. - .... / .- / ... .. -. --. .-.. . / --. .-.. .- -. -.-. . .-.-.- .-..-. His gaze slid over me like a veil of fire. He could ignite my deepest desires with a single glance."
"What…" Martin whispered.
.-- .... .- - / -.. .. -.. / -.-- --- ..- / ... . . ..--.. What did you see?
.-..-. .. -. / ...- .- .. -. / .. / .... .- ...- . / ... - .-. ..- --. --. .-.. . -.. .-.-.- / .. - / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / -. --- - / -.. --- .-.-.- / -- -.-- / ..-. . . .-.. .. -. --. ... / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / -. --- - / -... . / .-. . .--. .-. . ... ... . -.. .-.-.- .-..-. "In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed."
"T-this…" Martin started to sputter.
.-- .... .- - / .. ... / - .... .- - / - .... .. -. --. ..--.. What do you mean?
.-..-. -.. --- ..- -... - / - .... --- ..- / - .... . / ... - .- .-. ... / .- .-. . / ..-. .. .-. . ; / -.. --- ..- -... - / - .... .- - / - .... . / ... ..- -. / -.. --- - .... / -- --- ...- . ; / -.. --- ..- -... - / - .-. ..- - .... / - --- / -... . / .- / .-.. .. .- .-. ; / -... ..- - / -. . ...- . .-. / -.. --- ..- -... - / .. / .-.. --- ...- . .-.-.- .-..-. "Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love."
.-- .... .- - / .-.. --- ...- . ..--.. What love?
-.. --- / -.-- --- ..- / ... . . / - .... . / ... - .- .-. ... ..--.. Do you see the stars?
.-- .... .- - ..--.. / .... . .-.. .-.. --- ..--.. What? Hello?
The sounds ceased. The researchers turned around and shook their heads at Dr. Deny.
"Well?" Dr. Deny said, turning his head towards Martin. "Does this mean anything to you?"
Martin stood on the ground, eyes wide. He wasn't sure how to respond.
"I-I don't…know," he said slowly. "May I have a moment alone with her?"
Dr. Deny tilted his head. "Why?"
"Maybe she will respond better just to me," Martin replied silently. Dr. Deny released a slow breath and gestured the the three researchers to leave. They got up and went outside with Dr. Deny.
Martin shoved the heavy door close, although he knew there was the camera. Martin sat down on the chair in front of the monitor, laid his hands on the keyboard, and thought of typing something.
.... . .-.. .-.. --- ..--.. / .. ... / .. - / -.-- --- ..- --..-- / -- .- .-. - .. -. ..--.. Hello? Is it you, Martin?
Martin almost jumped out of his seat at the abrupt entrance of the new message. He held his breath and replied.
-.-- . ... .-.-.- / .. ... / - .... . .-. . / .- / .--. .-. --- -... .-.. . -- ..--.. Yes. Is there a problem?
-. --- .-.-.- / -. --- - / .- - / .- .-.. .-.. .-.-.- No. Not at all.
So, at least there wasn't a problem, according to her. Martin felt slightly relieved and continued to ask.
.- .-. . / -.-- --- ..- / ... ..- .-. . / -.-- --- ..- / .- .-. . / --- -.- .- -.-- ..--.. / -.-- --- ..- .----. ...- . / -... . . -. / .-.. --- .-- . .-. .. -. --. / -.-- --- ..- .-. ... . .-.. ..-. / - --- .-- .- .-. -.. ... / - .... . / --. .-. --- ..- -. -.. / .-.. .- - . .-.. -.-- .-.-.- Are you sure you are okay? You've been lowering yourself towards the ground lately.
-.. --- -. .----. - / .-- --- .-. .-. -.-- .-.-.- / .. / .- -- / --- -.- .- -.-- .-.-.- Don't worry. I am okay.
Martin rested his fingers. So Quasi didn't want to tell him what was up. What was really up with her?
-.-- --- ..- / -.- -. --- .-- --..-- / -- .- .-. - .. -. .-.-.- / -.-- --- ..- .----. ...- . / -... . . -. / ...- . .-. -.-- / -. .. -.-. . / - --- / -- . .-.-.- You know, Martin. You've been very nice to me.
Martin tensed and felt slightly embarrassed. Did she acknowledge his interest in her?
.. / .- -- / .--. .-.. .- -. -. .. -. --. / --- -. / .- / ...- . .-. -.-- / ... .--. . -.-. .. .- .-.. / ... ..- .-. .--. .-. .. ... . / ..-. --- .-. / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.- I am planning on a very special surprise for you.
Special surprise? What surprise? Martin was about to ask her, but the conversation ended with a loud beeping sound.
Martin wondered, and continued to wonder.
Dr. Caduceus woke up to the annoying notification sound of his computer. It was another new message.
Subject: Re: Re: Regards on QUAESITOR's recent behavior
To: Dr. Martin Caduceus
From: Dr. Edward Deny
You got to come now. QUAESITOR has just entered the ionosphere . At this rate it would be crashing in a matter of hours.
Martin sighed and put on his jacket. He had to figure out what was Quasi up to. Martin grabbed his cap and his dartgun and hopped out of his room.
Dr. Caduceus arrived again at the room.
"Still nothing from you," Dr. Deny muttered as he peered closely into the image of Quasi on the big screen. Cad approached him and tapped Edward on the shoulder.
"Ah," Dr. Deny says loudly, "Cad, I am afraid we must catch it."
"What?" Martin asked.
"According to some calculations I don't really understand," Dr. Deny walked to another nearby monitor and brought up a 3D display of the globe, "We have to wait there." Dr. Deny jabbed his index finger at the screen. His finger landed in a location somewhere in eastern Canada. "QUAESITOR may crash into Canada, and the it is too valuable for us to lose it."
Martin agreed on that part. "And how are we going to stop her from crashing?"
"We don't know yet," Dr. Deny replied. "We need to figure out first where it is exactly going to come in contact to ground," Dr. Deny told Martin as he narrowed his eyes.
"Uh huh," Martin mouthed while shifting uncomfortably, "Should we go now?"
"The earlier, the better," Dr. Deny said as he took himself and his briefcase out of the room.
Martin lowered his head and pondered. Should he be worried? Should he be excited? He didn't know.
The sky was darkening.
Martin laid down in the truck. He stretched and yawned in his seat as he listened to Dr. Deny's light snoring. It was a strangely intense moment. Not like the types of moment like when you are about to be shot by a pistol in the face, but rather a very long wait for some unforeseeable results. Results that will impact you big-time. Moments that will drag your anxious mind across flaming sandpaper for hours.
"Damn," a nearby researcher said as he looked at his laptop, "QUAESITOR's only about 70 kilometers from ground. That satellite is really going in for the kill."
Dr. Deny somehow flicked opened his eyes before he even stopped snoring. "Very soon," he said. "And about where will it land?"
"Probably somewhere located near Lake Melville," the doctor replied, "Although it could easily spin to somewhere far away at the time period before crashing. We'll have to wait and see."
Martin lightly moaned. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going outside for a short walk," he muttered as he opened the truck door.
"Don't go away too far," Dr. Deny called.
"Jeez, Ed. I don't need your tender care," Martin complained. But he was already snoring before Martin even finished speaking.
Martin walked outside and stepped into the dirt trail. The sky exhibited a marvelous color gradient, with the top dark gray, middle light blue, and the horizon blood red. Martin watched mindlessly as the blood orange sun lowered itself slowly behind the sparkling crystalline lake. Martin stood there for a long time, and just watched.
Nightfall came, as the sun ducked under the crystalline lake that glittered under the soft moonlight. The dark grays collapsed and concealed the blood red horizon. Martin shifted his legs and listened to the crickets' charming songs of the night. He turned around and saw Edward Deny approaching him slowly.
"You've been here all afternoon," Dr. Deny stated, "Want to eat some dinner?"
"No, I'm fine," Martin replied as he popped a berry mint into his mouth. He aligned his sight towards the dark sky, now seeing the stars clearly. Yes, I can see the stars, he thought. Yes, I can.
"QUAESITOR is slowing down," Dr. Deny suddenly said, breaking the silence. "It may not be crashing until tomorrow morning. We are lucky that it chose a rather remote location to act out this crap. If it landed near a major urban area, it is sure as hellfire that we won't be able to even get close to it."
"Maybe it is a good thing that she is coming down," Martin said profoundly.
"Maybe," Dr. Deny replied, "But most likely not." Dr. Deny turned around and walked back to the truck.
Martin turned around. Dr. Deny's specialty wasn't astronomy. Then why the hell is he on this assignment with Martin?
Dr. Martin Caduceus woke up this time to the sound of the starting engine. The researchers were backing out of the dirt trail, and up the hill.
"What is going on?" Martin asked.
"QUAESITOR is now less than 50 kilometers from ground level," Dr. Deny replied from the back of the truck.
"Where is she landing?" Martin asked again.
"The northeastern rim of Lake Melville," Dr. Deny replied, "Probably away from the water."
The truck tumbled up the rock road northeast. The long anticipated moment has finally came. Martin turned his head around and noticed that Deny was wrestling with a large cargo box.
"Um, Ed," Cad asked, "What is that?"
"That, is supplies," Dr. Edward Deny replied, "In case there will be trouble lifting it aboard the truck". The truck suddenly drove off course and entered the immense green forest. The researcher carefully maneuvered around trees and tumbled down the forest. Metal vibrated around the vehicle and papers flew around. Bushes and small saplings were ran over and green leaves enveloped the truck.
After twenty minutes of this turbulence, Dr. Deny ordered the truck to stop.
"Why are we stopping?" Martin asked.
Dr. Deny replied, "Well, we must remain as silent as possible. First, we spotted signs of action near Site 27 of the SCP Foundation. Second, we don't want to alarm QUAESITOR, do we?" Dr. Deny grabbed his suitcase. "Now," said Dr. Deny as he pointed at the researcher at the driver's seat, "You stay and wait for my signal to come okay?" He nodded.
All aboard personnel except the driver exited the truck, and resumed to tumble towards their destination.
"I can see her now," Martin yelled.
A distant, flaming dot fell from the sky. The dot size gained bigger and bigger. After a few minutes, a large red spacecraft came down into the forest behind the trees.
"It's crashed!" a researcher cried.
"No, there was no…impact at all," Dr. Deny observed. He took out a pistol and walked towards the spot Quasi landed. Martin and the other researchers followed him.
"There is no reason to be afraid," Martin said impatiently. He quickened his pace and walked towards the strange whirring sounds of Quasi.
"Stop, Martin," Dr. Deny ordered. He ignored Ed and kept walking. He jogged past the trees and saw Quasi on top of a small hill.
She was suspended in midair, with smoke floating from her body. She turned around and greeted Martin with her bright red sensor.
Martin froze.
She was indeed, beautiful.
Despite the fact on how out of place she seemed in a quiet forest like this, Martin adored the new addition. She seemed like an angel descended high from the heavens, waiting for him calmly. Her existence brightened the forest, and Martin felt extremely warm in the cold Canadian morning. Quasi's sensor seemingly winked, and Martin hear melted.
He surged forward, towards his lovely eye.
His lovely eye.
From the sky.
The chirping of the birds, the hustling wind, and the shouts from Dr. Deny all vanished from Dr. Caduceus mind. The world faded into darkness, with only QUAESITOR as the light.
His lovely eye from the sky.
Martin put his hand on Quasi's surface. He ignored the scorching burns on his hand and kept his hand there. He slid down and felt her strong but yet heartwarming surface.
Quasi let out a loud and clear beeping sound. Her happy sound. Which is also his happy sound.
"Martin," Dr. Deny called, "Martin!"
Cad ignored Deny's calls. He wrapped both arms against the satellite, against his lovely eye. He gazed deep into her red sensor, seeing the bright stars of the sky. Nothing mattered now. The SCP Foundation did not. Their dangers did not. The fact that Dr. Deny is ordering personnel to take a strange item out of the suitcase did not.
But it apparently did. Quasi's eye shifted from Martin's gaze towards Dr. Deny and his researchers. She emitted a loud, unpleasant beep. Martin heard a spinning whirring sound and turned.
He saw Dr. Deny watching with his cold eyes at the metallic disk floating in the air, spinning and consuming his sight with green neon light.
"Ed," Martin said in horror, "Ed, stop!" Martin reached for his dartgun, and took aim. He felt piercing pain on his arms and legs as several Insurgency personnel shot him with tranquilizer darts.
Martin watched helplessly as the disk vibrated its deadly blast into the air towards Quasi. She started to float up, but was struck by the wave. Quasi sputtered, spun around, and crashed into the earth. Her red sensor grew dark.
Martin tried to reach towards her. But his strength was failing him. His eyes went dark in vain.
Martin opened his eyes.
He was on a bed in a hospital or infirmary.
He tried to get up, but he was restrained to the bed.
Dr. Deny and another researcher entered the room. Edward walked towards him and gave him a cold smile.
"Well, well, well," Dr. Deny scoffed, "What happened to you?"
"Let me go, you son of a…" Martin demanded as he struggled against the restraints.
"Shh…." Dr. Deny gestured and spoke, "No loud swearing in the infirmary."
"You bastard!" Martin spat.
"Now, we will be letting you visit the Staff Well-being center shortly for a psychoanalysis. Your duties will be dismissed until you returned to the stage which we call sanity," Dr. Deny told him.
"How dare you!" Martin shouted, "I will dartgun open your ass and shove a scalpel straight up your…"
"Martin," Dr. Deny said in a low voice, "The Psychiatry Department needs someone who will be a good example for their patients". Edward laughed. "Not a thing like what you are right now."
Martin had and ridiculous thought of him being placed in a same cell as Edward Denhai. No. Fucking no.
"Let me go, I am Beta clearance researcher of the Chaos Insurgency and you cannot fucking just…" Martin's rant was interrupted by a gag stuffed into his mouth.
"Be a good boy," Dr. Deny chuckled and left.
Edward Deny walked outside. He greeted Dr. Asclepius, Martin Caduceus's assistant.
"Until he improves," Dr. Deny informed him, "You will be taking his position."
"Got it, sir," Asclepius replied.
"This is ridiculous," Edward sighed, "Martin falling in love with QUAESITOR. I'll be keeping the two separated. How the hell can this whole event happen in the first place? And alien or not, robot or not, why would any woman fall for a guy we all call 'Cad'?"
"What?" asked Dr. Asclepius, with on eyebrow raised.
"Seriously, look it up," Dr. Deny laughed as he walked down the hallway.
"Come in," Edward Deny said tiredly.
Dr. Asclepius ran into his office. He laid his hands on his knees and took a moment to catch his breath.
"What's with you?" Dr. Deny asked as he sipped from his coffee.
"Martin," he gasped, "Dr. Martin Caduceus escaped."
"What!?" Dr. Deny spat his coffee and asked angrily.
"He had a scalpel," Dr. Asclepius said fearfully, "Hidden well in his underwear. He asked the guards if he could use the restroom, and he took it out."
"And?!" Dr. Deny asked, shocked with anger.
"I came in response to screaming," Asclepius panted, "There was no guard left but slit throats."
Dr. Deny's fist came upon the table like the hammer of revolution. "For goddamn heaven's sake," he ranted, "They were armed guards trained to restrain invasive surgeons for ten fucking years! And you are telling me they got killed and Cad ran?"
"Yes, I am afraid," Dr. Asclepius responded. "He also left a note stabbed into your photograph on the wall with the scalpel. It says…" Dr. Asclepius was interrupted as Dr. Edward Deny grabbed the note from his hand.
"Let Quasi go or invasive dissection," Dr. Deny muttered. He crumpled the paper into a ball and launched it into his wastebasket. "That bastard…"
"Since you are not letting QUAESITOR go, and knowing him for more than four years…" Dr. Asclepius suggested.
"I know, I know. I know what to do," Dr. Deny interrupted him again, "Prepare."
Martin raced down the hallways as he dartgunned various asses. He was all the way into the arsenal of the site.
Martin Caduceus kicked opened the vault door and gunned down more guards. He waltzed into the dartgun section and replenished his dartgun ammunition.
"Once I donate that Deny bastard's ass to science," Martin whispered, "I am going to spend rest of my life with you, QUAESITOR." He loaded his dartgun, and put on a full strike team combat armor. Martin started to leave the arsenal vault.
"Wait," he said as he saw something. He went back inside, and took the tin of mints from the fallen guard.
Martin took slow strides down the dim hallway. He ducked behind a trash bin as a defense team passed an intersecting hallway ahead. Martin rose up slowly and stepped near the metal ladder leading to the air vent. Slowly, he reached to top and unscrewed the screws to lid with a scalpel. Martin pushed the lid aside in the vent and proceeded to crawl in.
Dr. Caduceus shifted forward slowly, attempting to be as silent as he can. Martin inched forward towards the hallway Dr. Deny's office is in. He arrived at a vent filter and looked down. No guards. Okay. Martin moved on, until he reached a turn. Dr. Caduceus painstakingly shifted his posterior around, and squeezed into a smaller passage. He crawled forward and a bloodcurdling metal detector alarm sounded.
"How is the preparation?" Dr. Asclepius asked.
"I don't need your help," Dr. Deny said. He made a mental list. Six strike teams around his office, check. One naval strike team guarding his office restroom, check. Temporal metal detectors installed on top of doors, check. Full site video surveillance, check. One elite strike team guarding the windows of his office, check. Six bodyguards surrounding him, check.
Dr. Deny reached for his drawer. If all else fails, which could be possible, he would still have his pistol at hand. He took out his Lucky Luger, a World War II era pistol he stole from his local history museum when he was eight years old.
The metal detector sounded.
Everyone tensed.
All six strike teams rose their machine guns and pointed at the door. Edward's bodyguards took out their pistols. Dr. Deny gripped his Luck Luger.
"Um, sir…" Dr. Asclepius whispered.
"Shh.." Dr. Deny responded.
"Screw this," shouted a strike team commander, "Open fire!"
All six teams opened fire, and a constant chain of firecracker sounds was set off around the office. Dr. Deny held his ears as thousands of bullets flew to the door faster than the speed of sound, piercing the door into Swiss Cheese. The firing continued on, and the room was vibrating with gunshots. Finally, the gunfire stopped as everyone was out of ammunition.
“Reload!” shouted the commander.
“Cease fire, goddammit!” Dr. Deny yelled. It was probably enough. He ordered a bodyguard to open the hole-filled door. No one was behind it, except several unlucky strike team members down the hallway whose bodies were turned into CI roadkill.
“Damn,” Dr. Deny uttered. Cad was obviously absent. If the metal detector wasn't destroyed during the Swiss cheese transformation process, he could have still located him.
Edward suddenly felt a feeling of anxiety in his gut. He felt that Cad is close to foiling his plan.
"You, bring all six strike teams to the southeastern storage section of the site, where QUAESITOR is," Dr. Deny ordered to Asclepius, "This isn't going to end soon. But it has to. I'm afraid I am must do this."
"What?" Asclepius asked.
Dr. Deny chuckled. "You'll see."
Cad let out slowly a breath of relief. His ears were still ringing from the racket. He inched backwards. Dr. Deny is definitely off-dart-limits now, he thought. He should go find Quasi first.
"You, bring all six strike teams to the southeastern storage section of the site, where QUAESITOR is," Dr. Deny's voice said below Martin, "This isn't going to end soon. But it has to. I'm afraid I am must do this."
Well, that was convenient. Martin crawled backwards, painfully turned himself around, and set off to find where Quasi was.
Martin ambushed the small defense team.
He literally dropped down on a guard, neutralizing him on site. He fired off darts at three other guards before they could react to his arrival.
"F-f-freeze!" a guard with a pistol in hand shouted, "O-or I will f-fire!"
Martin threw his last scalpel into his abdomen. The guard collapsed.
Martin had never eliminated so many guards before. Of course, luckily this was a rather small facility in Canada. If he was back in Base Four, he would have been nailed through by bullets much earlier.
Martin is now at the storage site. It was enormous for a small site. Tons of shelves and boxes filled the halls, and they seemed endless. But he didn't see Quasi…
The door on the opposite side of the storage section slammed open, and strike team members surged in like a torrent. Out came last was a familiar figure.
Martin raised his eyebrow. What the hell was Asclepius doing here?
Martin ducked behind a plastic box labeled Type IV NR Drugs. He counted the people there in combat armor. At least thirty. How the fuck did that came to be?
Martin looked around for Quasi. She wasn't in this hall.
Martin got up and ran across the hall he was in. He kept running down the wide aisle and turned as he heard machine gunfire and footsteps. He raced into another hallway and dartgunned down two guards located in the proximity.
Dammit. Martin looked around. Where was Quasi? Martin looked around.
Martin grabbed the nearest object next to him. A smoke grenade. How convenient.
Martin poked his head out from the shelf, and immediately shrunk back as numerous bullets flew past him. He reached out again and launched the smoke grenade out.
"Watch out, grenade!" strike team members shouted. Cad turned around. Suddenly his felt a burning source of light bursting behind him and a deafening bang! Martin spun around and collapsed down hard onto a shelf. The shelf creaked and tipped over.
Cad groaned. Shit. He really needed, for once, to tell flashbangs apart from smoke grenades. He checked his ears to see if they were still working. Good. He blinked the black spots out of his eyes. Martin pushed himself up, ready to run. But his hand swiped on a handle on the wall where the shelf was.
Martin shifted his gaze towards a hidden door, now revealed due to his stupidness. Martin chuckled, and slammed the door open. It led to a dark hallway.
Martin slammed shut the door, and shot an asleep guard. He turned on the lights and the hall was unveiled.
Cad stared at the rows of boxes with slithering figures moving around inside on shelf. It was a reptile research lab. Martin looked around, seeing small pools with oversized crocodiles and a tortoises zipping around like sprinters in large cages.
The door burst open behind him.
"Aha!" Dr. Asclepius shouted, "We found you, now surrender!"
Martin proceeded to dartgun the three guards alongside with Asclepius. He then pointed his gun at him.
Asclepius reached for his radio. Martin pierced it with a dart before he could speak to it.
"If you were not my assistant who helped me," Martin said coldly, "I would've dartgunned your ass much longer ago. Now, be a good boy step aside."
"Oh, no," Asclepius replied and held up his hands, "I have no choice. Or Deny would kill me."
Martin pulled the trigger with fury. He waited for Asclepius to yell in pain.
Nothing happened.
Martin checked his ammunition supply. It was out.
"Shit," Martin muttered, backing up.
Asclepius chuckled. "Now we shall settle this," he said. Asclepius bent over and picked up a random thick metal rod on the ground. "Once and for all."
Martin took his stance. This is going to be painful.
For Asclepius, obviously.
Dr. Asclepius yelled and charged towards him. Martin ducked as Asclepius swung the rod wildly at his head. He backed up towards the end of the hall passing snake boxes as Dr. Asclepius repeatedly swung the rod around clumsily in a pompous style, not being able to touch Dr. Caduceus once. Martin stood there calmly as he waited for Asclepius to catch his breath.
"Are you done yet?" Martin scoffed.
"Never!" Dr. Asclepius chanted as he swung the rod again at Martin. Martin dodged it easily, but the rod slammed into a box labeled Anomalous Venomous Serpents. The box tipped over and lid smashed open. Asclepius screamed with a high-pitched voice as he backed up away. Two golden serpents landed on Dr. Caduceus' head.
Martin tried to be calm, and allowed the snakes to slither onto his arms. He bent one arm down and one serpent crawled away, but the other stubbornly stayed on his left arm.
"Well, you bastard," Martin muttered. He grabbed the snake by its neck and launched it towards Dr. Asclepius. He screamed again as he used his rod to block the serpentine projectile. The golden snake landed on his rod and curled around it. It hissed angrily at Asclepius.
"Holy shit!" Dr. Asclepius yelled. He swung his snake rod around, trying to shake it off. But in the process he ran towards Martin.
The snake flew off into a nearby trash bin as Asclepius swung once more. He readied his rod and pushed it hard towards Martin's head.
Martin caught it in his hands and started to pull it from him.
"Give me that, you little…" Martin grunted.
"No, you son of a…" Asclepius groaned.
Asclepius yelled in pain as Martin launched his tin of berry mints into his cheek. It was a necessary sacrifice. Asclepius' grip on the rod loosened and Martin pulled it away from him.
"How dare you!" Dr. Asclepius shouted, charging towards Caduceus once again. Martin dodged his punches and slammed the rod into his crotch.
"Ow! My snake!" Asclepius yelled in pain. He collapsed onto the ground and grunted in pain.
"Don't mess with Dr. Martin Caduceus," Martin spat and threw the rod on Asclepius' head. He passed out. Cad proceeded to find Quasi.
He still had no clue where she was. Unlike Base Four, which he knew as well as how to spell his name, this site seemed to surprise him every time he enters a new room.
Martin walked to a nearby computer monitor displaying lab surveillance. Maybe this will show answers.
There was no Quasi on any section of the surveillance monitor. What did catch Martin's eye was one section that had no signal.
It was section C-4 of the laboratory. He swiftly turned around and ran for the entrance.
He then saw one problem. Dr. Caduceus stopped dead in his tracks. The door to the room was behind a caged cell.
Actually, that wasn't much a problem. There was also a strange giant crocodile-snake-tortoise-salamander hybrid creature in the cell. It bared its fangs at Martin and growled deeply.
"Damn you, you son of a bitch!" Edison Denhai yelled as he spat on Dr. Deny's face. "You cannot do this to me!"
"And what are you going to do now?" Dr. Deny said amusingly as he wiped his face.
"You faux Grimshire Deny," Denhai uttered viciously, "You shall suffer upon my scythe!"
"Too bad you cannot do that," Dr. Deny said and he drank his cup of tea. Edward looked out of the window. They were disguised as Canadian intelligence officials on board a Boeing E-3 Sentry plane to investigate QUAESITOR's landing, and they had just questioned Denhai. With a lot of pounding and beating, of course.
"See," Dr. Deny said, "Now you are as worthless as you think everyone else is. You have no use for us anymore."
"No!" Edison Denhai shouted as he struggled in his straitjacket, "You guys cannot fucking kill Edward Grimshire Deny! You goddamned imposter! I shall raze upon your flesh and bones! Let me go!"
"Whatever you say," Dr. Deny rolled his eyes and chuckled.
Agent Xanders followed the tire tracks in the forest. The landing site must be near here.
"Report," he said into his walkie-talkie, "Unidentified personnel passed through forests near Lake Melville about three days ago." Xanders followed the tire path down the hill covered with crushed saplings and bushes.
Xanders and his team walked out of the forest into a small treeless hill. There was apparent scrapes in the ground in the landing site, but no crater. With the constant reports recently of Chaos Insurgency activity near the vincity, there was no doubt that they were here before the Foundation was able to react.
"Look!" Xanders' partner shouted as he pointed into the sky. There was a reconnaissance plane.
"It must be Canadian officials," Xanders remarked as he was ready to retreat back into the forest. Suddenly the plane dropped an object from the sky.
"Take cover!" Xanders yelled as he ran into the trees. This is not going to be good.
But it wasn't a bomb. It wasn't shaped like it. It…screamed.
It was a man.
The man landed onto the hill and stopped screaming. Xanders and his partner raced forward.
The man was badly beaten in a typical researcher's attire, with one cardboard weapon in his left hand shaped like a gun and another in his right shaped like a scythe.
"That is definitely not a government reconnaissance plane," Xanders muttered as he gazed at the plane.
Martin groaned. Weird reptilian animals. Not now.
He picked up a stick nearby and poked it at the creature in the cage, the common procedure. It snarled and snapped at the stick.
"Whoa," Martin said, "Calm down."
The creature did not listen to him. It snapped its jaws at Martin's direction, bending an iron bar.
Martin stood there, not knowing what the hell to do. He stared at the creature and had a long staring contest with it. It was interrupted by something touching his foot.
Martin looked down and saw two golden serpents. He had an idea. Maybe it would work, maybe it would kill him. It worth it either way.
Martin picked the snakes up and shoved them into the cell between the iron bars. They hissed at the weird reptile and tried to slither back out, but Martin pushed them forward with a stick. The gigantic creature roared at the two golden serpents.
Its neck suddenly extended out, and the creature's mouth opened. A long lizard tongue reached out, smacking on one of the serpents. The golden serpent was stuck to the tongue as it retreated swiftly to its mouth. The crocodile-snake-tortoise-salamander creature then chewed loudly, spraying golden juice all over Martin's face.
The other serpent hissed nosily in response, and its eyes turned bright crimson. The tiny serpent launched its head forward towards the giant stubby legs of the creature and sank its fangs in. The crocodile-snake-tortoise-salamander hybrid howled in pain. Then it hardened into a golden, shining sculpture.
Martin's jaw dropped. He would love to keep that snake as a pet. A thousand thoughts went off in his mind on what he could do with the snake.
The serpent startlingly opened and extended its jaw. It grew and grew into a ridiculous size. It expanded to a mouth size large enough to sustain the entire crocodile-snake-tortoise-salamander sculpture.
Martin slammed open the cell door and moved on. Although it was sure was hell tempting, there was no time to stare at the snake doing its thing. He kicked the door, rubbed his foot from the pain, and kicked the door again until he managed to go through the doorway.
Then Martin ran inside, and saw his beautiful eye from the sky.
"Quasi…" Martin said as he surged forward.
Quasi turned her red sensor towards Martin. She looked pleased to see him. At least that was what Martin thought. Martin wrapped his arms around her silver body and looked into her sensor. He moved his head closer towards her, closing his eyes and bringing his lips upon…
"Surrender now or die!" shouted ten strike team members as they suddenly entered the room.
Martin reached his hand towards his dartgun.
"Move one more inch and we will pepper you like Caesar salad!"
Martin stopped. There weren't any darts left anyway.
"Drop your weapon!" another strike team member shouted, "And come with us!"
"How the hell am I supposed to drop my weapon if I can't move an inch to grab it?" Martin inquired.
"Shut the hell up and do as I said!" he ordered again, "Otherwise you will become Swiss cheese!"
Martin turned around and wrapped his arms around Quasi. "Bring us out of here," he whispered softly.
QUAESITOR stared blankly at him, as if she wanted to protest at his decision. "C'mon, it's our chance," Cad ensured.
"What in the name of Haos are you fucking waiting for?" the strike team member ordered again impatiently, "Hurry up before we open fire!"
Martin suddenly felt the vibrating movement on Quasi's surface. He held her tight.
Quasi started to rise up, but was restrained by metal frames.
"Five more seconds!" the strike team members shouted again, "And we will pepper you into Swiss cheese!"
"Come on, Quasi," Martin whispered, "You can do this. We are meant to be together."
Quasi attempted with stronger and stronger force pulling the metal frame up. But it did not budge.
"Five!" they shouted.
"You can do this," Martin whispered to her again.
"Four!"
"Quasi, I believe you can. You are my lovely eye in the sky."
"Three!"
Martin leaned in towards Quasi, and kissed her rough metal surface. She smelled sweet. Metallic sweet.
"You are my guardian angel."
"Two! Someone, get the disk!"
Quasi rose up and popped up one iron bolt sedating the metal frame to the ground.
"One!"
The metal frame shattered into a million pieces. Silver fireworks sprayed outwards and the guards stumbled. Nails splattered on the ground with satisfying clinks.Quasi rose up to her full height, eyeing the guards with her red sensor. She floated in midair and charged out the room, with Martin holding on to her.
Martin almost lost grasp of Quasi. Her burst of speed was incredible.
Quasi rose up, slowly, towards the glass ceiling. The guards started to recover.
"Grab hold," Quasi suddenly emitted in a monotone voice. Cad was more than ever pleased to do so.
She quickly accelerated, and shattered the ceiling with the tip of her head. Quasi exposed herself and Martin Caduceus to the cool evening air, out from the dark. She rose up faster, and sped forward, narrowly missing the impact of a wave of green neon light.
Cad screamed. He wasn't going to hold on to her long enough at this rate.
But when he finally lost his grasp while speeding in midair at a speed of a million kilometers per second, he did not fall.
Martin managed to look down. His belt was stuck to Quasi. So was his wrist. And his ankles.
"Magnetism," Quasi beeped. Martin smiled and let out a sigh of relief. He relaxed his limbs.
"Not very reliable here," Quasi added. Martin instinctively held on tighter again. The air still blew strongly against his manly and handsome complexion. This was definitely a fun air-roller coaster ride to go on with a loved one.
Quasi slowed, and lowered little by little. They later landed in the broad wilderness.
Edward visited Asclepius in the infirmary.
He sighed. He palmed his face.
Caduceus escaped. QUAESITOR breached containment. Dozens of personnel were killed. Tons of machinery were sabotaged thanks to the failed activation of the Detrimental Disk. Reptilian creatures roamed the site after that.
But these events were expected.
Edward Grimshire Deny walked into his office. He walked towards his desk briskly and grabbed his Lucky Luger.
He rubbed his hand on a long metal suitcase.
Dr. Deny opened up his computer. He checked on the tracker's location.
Edward smiled. The tracking device was injected inside Martin Caduceus' bloodstream years ago. It was fragile, and could be only used on one occasion.
But the plan was going well.
Edward Deny thought of what to do after this operation. He gathered needed data, wrote a message, and sent it to Dr. Asclepius.
Taking a bath with an extraterrestrial satellite in a cave is supposedly weird.
But if the satellite was Quasi, it felt natural.
The natural spring was dark but wonderful. It was cool, but not cold. The water flow was gentle and there were no mosquitoes.
Cad rubbed Quasi's rough surface with his shirt dipped in the water. Martin could not tell from her expression, but she must had been enjoying it.
After the intimate bath, Quasi lifted herself out of the spring-tub. Martin got up, lacking any other clothes to put on, dressed himself in combat armor. He this time used his jacket to dry Quasi off, although she didn't seem to mind being wet.
"Water," Quasi beeped, "Is an amazing compound."
"It sure is," Martin said. He reached his mouth forwards and kissed Quasi.
He was about to engage in foreplay, but his ears intercepted the sounds of a helicopter nearby.
Martin tensed. Who managed to find them? How did they?
"Freeze!" a strike team personnel yelled as he came running inside the cave, "Or-what the hell are you…"
Martin cut his threat short by stabbing a forcep into his throat. He picked up the guard's heavy automatic and a strange rod attached to his black belt.
"Martin," a familiar cold voice said. Two assault team members marched into the cave. Martin opened fire, shooting both of them down.
Then, as the smoke cleared near the dark cave's entrance, a figure entered the mouth of the cave. It was Dr. Edward Deny. But he looked different. He was suited in a peculiar combat armor. His eyes were wild, filled with murderous light of insanity. His face was pale white. On his left hand he held his Lucky Luger pistol. At the right hand he clenched hard onto a…
Scythe.
Dr. Deny pointed his Luck Luger at Martin. He fired.
"How pathetic," Dr. Deny remarked.
Martin felt a sharp burning pain in his left thigh. Dr. Caduceus yelled. He dropped his rifle and collapsed onto the ground. His head was swimming, Martin's vision was red. He clutched at the wound. It stung like a melting nail in his flesh.
Dr. Deny walked towards QUAESITOR. She was in midair, with her sensor glowing bright red at Edward Deny. Gear-like parts on the side of her body shifted, as if she was bracing for an attack.
Dr. Deny simply swiped the scythe in front of QUAESITOR. A dark purple aura was emitted from the blades, impacting on her.
QUAESITOR sputtered in midair. Martin watched in shock. Quasi's sensor grew dark, but she eventually steadied herself in the air. Her sensor's color was back on again. But it was sickly white. Quasi abruptly orbited wildly around, and sped towards the light entering the cave. She, without turning back, shot out the cave into the blue sky.
Martin stared in shock. His leg stopped hurting. He stared into the sky. His lovely eye was gone. He felt himself burning up, and exposed to the hellish atmosphere he was encased in long ago.
Dr. Deny laughed. He cackled into the air. His laughs pierced into the silence, rumbled the cave. He lowered the scythe.
"What a pity," Dr. Edward Grimshire Deny taunted and laughed maniacally, "I wield the scythe in one hand, and Lucky Luger in my other. I blinded your third eye. Your so-called guardian angel, her thoughts dissipated with the swing of a scythe."
Martin couldn't think straight. He looked around. The world was blurry. The spot in the blue sky was gone.
He was blind.
His third eye was blind.
"Deny," Martin whispered. Martin clenched his hands. He shifted his gaze towards the madman.
"No one takes QUAESITOR, my angel, away from Dr. Martin Caduceus," Martin continued, "Without getting there asses darted fifty million leagues beneath the depths of hell." Martin released a yell of pain and anger. He took out the strange dark rod, and it transformed into a full-sized dartgun.
Martin aimed the dartgun at Dr. Deny. He fired. He fired. He fired. And again. The shadows of the flying darts blocked out Deny's pale face. He was enveloped by the oncoming raging toxin dart typoon.
Edward grunted. He stiffly stood in front of Martin. His knees weakened.
"I stand, ready and in command. The Great Armada at my back, the Emperors of the Fates at my sides, and the enemy in my gaze," Dr. Deny uttered weakly and fired his Luger. His final words floated away and he collapsed.
Martin exhaled harshly. He looked down, at the oozing hole in his chest. He reached inside and tore out the bullet, determined to die without Deny's bullet in his chest.
Martin fell and lay down. His gaze moved towards the source of light surging into the cave. He saw the blue sky.
She must be up there, Martin thought.
His lovely eye, up on the blue skies. Martin smiled. He closed his eyes.
"We have a problem," Dr. Edward Deny said as he slapped a green notebook on Dr. Martin Caduceus's desk. Martin eyed it suspiciously, turned it around, and read what it was. It was Dr. Victor Strate's journal.
"Why are showing me this?" Dr. Caduceus asked, utterly confused.
"I thought you are the psychologist," Dr. Deny replied, "Take a look here." Dr. Deny rummaged through the green notebook, through various crude drawings of strange green creatures, until he abruptly stopped at a page with lines of words.
"What is- Oh, god…" Dr. Caduceus whispered, looking at the page with wide eyes. He had no idea of what the hell it was, but it did not seem good.
What if laptops were Shrek?
What if keyboards were Shrek?
What if fingers are Shrek?
What if limbs are Shrek?
What if Shrek had no limbs?
What if Shrek had keyboards?
What if Shrek was keyboard?
What if Shrek was Oujia Board?
What if Shrek is dead?
What if deads are Shrek?
What if zombies are Shrek?
What if ghosts are Shrek?
What if Shrek was ghosts?
What if Shrek had Ghost Gas Masks?
What if Shrek Germany?
What if Shrek was Panzer?
What if Shrek panzerschreck?
What if Shrek panzershrek?
What if Shrek panzerfäuste?
What if tank Shrek?
What if Shrek wore tank tops?
What if Shrek wore turrets?
What if Shrek are turrets?
What if Shrek tore turrets?
Edward Deny nodded grimly at Caduceus. "I am afraid that we are in a huge trouble," he whispered.
Dr. Caduceus returned with a grim nod. "I am going to need to prepare well for this," he whispered as he popped a berry mint into his mouth.
Dr. Caduceus sighed and picked up the phone. "I should have been more careful," he said, "I should have been even more worried when I saw the notebook."
"There is no use complaining now," Dr. Deny replied sternly. "What am I worried more about is how the hell is this turning out to be so ridiculously real," Dr. Deny whispered. "And what the hell are we gonna do?" he continued.
"I don't know," Dr. Caduceus wearily replied and he hung up the phone. He already had to deal with Edward Denhai. Now this. Why are personnel at his site going mad by the hundreds?
Not knowing what to do, Martin took out Victor Strate's journal, just to see if it gives answers.
February 13th
The day has been shitty. After being poked multiple times with the Stickity Stick by an angered custodian which I pissed off by not pissing with good aim, I had to clean Polapup feces. Without being permitted to cuddle any of them. Anyhow, I asked Ingrid again if she had time to come over for a movie. She said she had to take care of her six-legged dog who recently lost one leg in an accident. Oh well.
But no matter. Today, the Shrek Forever After blue-ray disc came out, and I can now watch its green face in glorious high definition. It's an experience that everyone deserves to have. As soon as Dr. Caduceus approves, I would be playing this on the just-installed HDTV located in the break room at movie night next week. It's such a great worth of $25. I kept wondering, why didn't they release a green-ray disc for Shrek?
What if all blue ray discs play Shrek?
What if all blue ray discs are green-ray discs?
What if green-ray discs are Shrek?
Martin quickly flipped through some pages with Shrek fanart drawings, and finally found a rather normal journal page.
February 17th
Today I managed to get out of Polapup feces-cleaning duty. Martin, that bastard, did not approve me to play Shrek Forever After on movie night. He said that it was "inappropriate" for the first movie played on his HDTV to be a Shrek movie. That damn Shrek hater. He looked terrified when I shown him the disc, as if Shrek scares him. I live in a swamp! I put up signs! I'm a terrifying ogre! Not.
Well on the bright side, Ingrid finally agreed on going out to dinner tomorrow. I finally will be able to get my ass out of my swamp house and do something. Something meaningful and kind for my life. Wish me good luck.
February 18th
Phew. Wotta day.
I brought my Shrek, Shrek 2, and Shrek the Third today and waited for Martin's approval. Instead, he threw berry mints at me and threatens to dartgun me if I suggest to play a Shrek film again. Damn Martin Farquaad. He can never learn to enjoy Shrek. He actually requested me to take a visit to his psychoanalysis office, which of course I didn't go. God. Shrek. Why is he so afraid of Shrek?
Do you know what that thing could do to you?
Yeah, it'll grind your bones for its bread!On the bright side, today I went out to dinner with Ingrid. She was a little shy around me, as she is around ogres. The waiter came and I told him to that we will order the best they have. Way to impress a girl. The meal was indeed, good, but also expensive. Except that my steak was burnt too much for anyone's taste and I called the Donkey to recook my steak. But otherwise, Ingrid seemed pleased by the meal. Way to go on the first date Victor. I offered to drive her home and Fiona seemed pleased by the whole date. I told her that next time if she wants to come I will cook up a meal at my swamp and we will watch a movie. She just smiled and said okay.
What if Shrek ate steaks?
What if Shrek hate lemons?
What if Shrek chewed on berry mints?
What if Shrek chewed on dartguns?
What if dartguns are Shreks?
What if Shrek snapped pencils for fun?
What if pencils snapped Shrek for fun?
What if Shrek punches Puss in the groin?
What if Shrek punches Caduceus in the groin?
What if Caduceus punches groin in the Shrek?
What if Puss punches Caduceus in the Shrek's groin?
What if Shrek hugged dogs?
What if Shrek hugged six-legged dogs?
What if Shrek hugged fish?
What if Shrek hugged sharks?
What if Shrek hugged Imperial Sharks?
What if Shrek fishes sharks in his swamp?
What if Shrek sweat sweat in his sweaty swamp?
What if Shrek fed Donkey to Imperial Sharks in his swamp?
What if Shrek fed sweat to his swamp?
February 22nd
Shreeek. Shreeek. Seeekrrrit Shrrrekk. I invited Ingrid over to my swamp to watch Shrek today, and she was not pleased with the movie. Maybe it's because I am an ogre. But then Fiona turned ogre. Ha. She ran away, but we will probably be happy ever after.
My landlord came today into my swamp, and demanded this month's rent. Nobody comes to my swamp. My swampy swamp. I chased him out and snapped his pitchfork. He got eaten by Dragon. Oh, Shrek well.
What if Shrek roared at night?
What if Shrek roared in your backyard at night?
What if Shrek stilled roared in your front yard at night?
What if Shrek was vegetarian?
What if Shrek was vegan?
What if Shrek was freegan?
What if Shrek had green feces?
What if Shrek had green urine?
What if Shrek had green saliva?
What if Shrek had green blood?
What if Shrek had green earwax?
What if Shrek had green digestive acids?
What if Shrek wrecked potato sacks?
What if Shrek sacked potato wrecks?
What if Shrek is red?
Shrek is not red. Shrek is green.
What if Shrek came from the past?
What if Shrek came from the future?
What if Shrek is the past?
What if Shrek is the future?
What if Shrek was a historian?
What if Shrek was a reporter?
What if Shrek occupied Wall Swamp?
What if Shrek supported anarchy?
What if Shrek is Guy Fawkes?
What if Shrek is an imperialist?
What if Shrek is anonymous?
What if Shrek is a monarch?
What if all monarchs are Shrek?
What if Shrek was democratic?
What if Shrek is a freelance jihadist?
What if John McCain is Shrek?
What if Shrek ate John McCain?
What if Shrek supported socialism?
What if Shrek is communist?
Shrek is not red. Shrek is green.
More Shrek drawings. Martin felt his brain neurons dying off one by one as he read each word, but for some reason he was tempted to keep reading on what was his mind going through. Curiosity kills the cat, the phrase popped up from the side of his mind that urge him to insert the notebook into the nearby paper shredder. I have to be curious nine times to die, his other curious part of his mind argued and eventually took over.
February 27th
Shrek ears. Today I left my swamp late to work today, and was yelled at by Lord Caduceus for ten straight minutes. I told him that I didn't want to get my ass out of my swamp, but he disregarded my explanation and kicked me out of his palace. One day I will rescue Fiona out of this place ruled by this evil king. One day, until I am willing to get out of swamp and do something.
I was stuck with Ogre baby feces-cleaning duty and documentation again. I don't wanna be a father, Martin Farquaad! I said it ten times! I was a pissed ogre, covered in shit and crashed through hallway doors. I roared at the knights who tried to stop me, snapped their pitchforks, and spat on their torches. I went to the dungeon to save Fiona, but Lord Farquaad shot me in the back with tranquilizer arrows. Now I can go back to my swampy swamp. My swamp. Swamp. Shreky swamp. Swamp Swamp Swamp Swamp Swamp Swamp Swamp Swamp Swamp Swamp was Shrek and Shrek was swamp…
Martin rubbed his eyes and prepared for the worst.
February 28th
I went back to my swamp, with the TV Shrek. I binge-watched all Shrek series green-ray discs again, as they turned to Shrek. I had to order food, but my phone was Shrek. I went to my local swamp restaurant and ordered spider webs, and the waiter was Shrek. After dinner, I realized something was wrong the ogre I just ate and had to use the outhouse. After I had my Shrekpoo relief my toilet Shrek and I had call a plumber with my Shrekphone. The plumber came to my swamp and Shreked out my toilet. After I paid him with Shrek he left my swamp without hassle. Then my landlord came again, this time with knights, and demanded rent for living in his swamp. Its my swamp. I roar. Landlord was Shrek and I was Shreked unconscious by the knights. When I woke up I ended up in their ogre slave castle and was confronted by Chief Rumpelstiltskin. I snapped the handcuffs in half and it was Shrek. I knocked over the nearby knight and he Shrek. Rumpelstiltskin begged for mercy and he turned Shrek. I walked out of the door, which was Shrek, and ran out of their ogre castle.
February 32nd
Lord Farquaad locked me up in a room today. I tried to ogre out, but end up being Shreked by guards. They told me to write about ogre babies. I don't want to be a father. I want to Shrek. I want not ogre triplet. Word was Shrek and Chrome was Shrek. Computer Shrek. I knocked on the Shrek door for multiple times but Shrek. I don't wanna father but Shrek. Shhreekk. Shrek.
47th Shrekuary
I showed Lord Farquaad my Shrek. He did not like Shrek, and was Shrek at me. I felt ogred and want to go back to my swamp. Farquaad can no longer watch Shrek. Nobody can lock Shrek anymore. Nobody is Shrek.
Ogre 3289th Shrekday
I made a Shrek and it was Shrek. I ate Shrek donuts and yelled Shrek. Yelled was Shrek. Shrek was yelled. Shrek was was.
What is the meaning of life?
Shrek is meaning, Shrek is life.What is love
Shrek what is what, Shrek what love.Am I love?
Am I life?
No. Shrek is green and am love and am life.
Shrek is ? and ?.
Martin rubbed his head and used up three seconds to recover from a Shrek migraine.
Shrek is I.
Martin Shreked and swamped.
| Item during Phase One |
|---|
| Item: | Stream Dweller |
| Size: | Entity size varies from 2-7 meters in height, weight unknown |
| Type: | Hostile entity |
| Living: | Unknown |
| Sentient: | Yes |
| Potential/Current Hazards | Item carries risk of causing a massive amount of causalities and major structure damage to public fixtures |
| Required Wear/Weaponry | -What should people wear/have when around the object? Is it only in the containment cell, or facility-wide?- |
| Location: | optional -where is the item being kept? |
| Reported Anomaly: | optional -what IS the anomaly? Consult the Terms page |
Usage
How do you use the item? How do you activate it, if applicable? What safety measure do you have to do? What are the potential uses of the item?
The Usage portion should describe how we use the item, how careful we should be, how to take care of it, etc.
Report
What is the item? What does it look like? What's the size? What does it do? Is there something we should be aware of? What are its anomalous properties? How'd we find it? When? How do we store the item safely? How do we protect it?
The Report portion should describe the item, provide the protocols for storing it, etc.
 |
|
| Item during Final Phase after leaving storm drain, █ kilometers away from suburban area |
|---|
