Link to article: SCP-3939-22.
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[[div class="scp-image-block block-right" style="width: 300px;"]] [[image https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-3939/scp.jpg style="width: 300px;"]] [[div class="scp-image-caption" style="width: 300px;"]] IMG_201802280039.JPG [[/div]] [[/div]] **Item #:** SCP-3939 **Object Class:** Unclassed **Special Containment Procedures:** Object is kept in standard pre-containment holding cell. A researcher is to be assigned to classify it as soon as possible. **Description:** None yet available. [[div class="story"]] Somehow, it manages to keep your attention for most of the day. You end up going to bed a little earlier than you'd've liked, but it's fine. You wake up at the normal time, when you alarm goes off. You feel like shit, but it's the same way you normally feel in the morning. You get ready and leave for work. When you arrive at your office, you notice that your door is ajar. It's never ajar. You always make sure you close it properly when you leave. It's possible that you just didn't notice, but that doesn't seem likely. Even so, you are very much on your guard as you slowly push the door open. Feet up on your desk, leaning back in your chair, is the last face that you wanted to see today. Skinny, pallid skin, dark hair that lies flat against her neck. Amanda Salisbury, the Site Director. "Hello, ████." she says. "Dr. Salisbury. Can I help you?" "You can, actually." She withdraws her legs from the desk, plants them on the floor, stands up, and gestures for you to take a seat. The two of you swap places in the room. "You can explain to me exactly why, when I check SCP-3939's file, it's empty." You close for eyes for a moment and inhale sharply. "I haven't written it yet, Director." "Why not?" "I was going to do it today, actually, I—" "Of course you were going to write it today. Today is your deadline, right?" "Yes, Director." "Tell me what you've got so far." You pause for a long moment — far too long. "It's a gramophone." As soon as the words leave your mouth, you kick yourself mentally. "Of course it's a fucking gramophone, you fucking idiot, it's right there in the fucking picture. Have you done any research?" "No, Director." "Why have you not uploaded the research I sent you?" You're confused for a moment. What research? Did she send you research? Did you miss it, did you not notice? You decide it's best just to ask. "What research?" "Did Rodriguez send you the research I asked him to?" "I haven't seen him at all, no." "Useless bastard. Take a look at this." She picks up a small pile of papers which had been on your desk — in your confusion, you hadn't noticed them. Sensing that the first half of her utterance was directed at Carlos and the latter half at you, you take the papers from her hand and read through them. It's the previous research you needed from day one: a full description of 3939 and basic containment procedures. "This is the containment report for 3939. I found it yesterday morning and sent it to Rodriguez, assuming he'd pass it on to you. Clearly not. But I also assumed that you'd get some actual work done in the meantime. Clearly I was wrong about that, too." "Thank you, Director." "Write it up." "Pardon?" "Write it up, now. Come on. I need this uploaded." You write up the article into the document. All the while, she watches you from the far side of the room. "Publish it." [[div class="choices"]] [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-3939/offset/11 Publish.] [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-3939/offset/5 "No."] [[/div]] [[/div]]