Link to article: Lonely.
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[[>]] [[module Rate]] [[/>]] They don't come anymore. I remember when they used to come every day. Talking quietly among themselves, walking through. Few of them ever talked to me, but them being here was enough to keep one amused through the days. Every now and then, they'd give me one of theirs. One that couldn't walk or talk anymore. Maybe it was a payment - what one of them always did before sort of hurt... but it didn't matter. I wouldn't mind if it hurt... if all of them were here, walking. If **he** was here. **He** stayed, almost all the time... **He** was one of the few who talked to me, **he**'d return from somewhere away with an unsteady gait, drop down into the grass, and we'd talk, until **he** stopped moving. At those times I could even touch **him**, feel **his** surface. It was different, nice, soft and warm. Some nights **he** didn't go, usually one or two nights after they'd given me another of theirs - instead **he**'d open a hole in me again, take out the one that was inside - they always put them inside boxes made of tree - do something with them, then put them back in. Through time I learned to help **him** open the holes, it was easier, so much easier for both of us. Those were the best times, times with **him**. One night like that, another man came and walked through. He stopped for a while, then ran away, then walked back next day, with two others, with heavy boots. They grabbed **him**, just as **he** was touching the flowers growing near my end, and took **him** away. **He** never came back, and I don't know why. I wanted to be with **him** forever, **he** loved me, **he** talked to me. I tried to talk to the others, but they didn't listen when there were many, and they ran away when they were alone. Then, soon, another man came and wanted to make a hole. But, he wasn't **him**. He didn't love me, he didn't talk to me. I tried to touch him, but he run away. Ungrateful, vile. Not like **him** at all. But still, at least some things happened then... walking, talking, a lot of things. I waited, many days, but **he** didn't come back. The others came less often, and were slower and slower, until one day they didn't come anymore. I waited and waited. A few times, some of them would come back, alone, or in small groups. I was so happy, doesn't matter it wasn't **him**, it was someone. I tried to greet them, help them, do anything for them, but they too were vile and ungrateful. One of them I tried to keep from running, and it worked - he went down, on one of the big stone slabs they have hauled in, and stopped moving. I was happy for a while - he wasn't **him**, he didn't walk or talk, but at least he stayed. I took him in, making a hole myself... that's what is proper, because that's what **he** did... even when he took them out, **he** put them back later. Besides, it hurts a lot less when I do it myself, I found. So, it's what I did with every one that stopped moving. Then, one day, a lot of them came again. I was happy, so happy, it'd be like the old times again, maybe even **he**'d show up again. But **he** didn't... instead they put metal rods into me, and did a lot of things, and then they left, and noone came or stayed since. Oh, one of them stayed... but he was just like the ones I talked about. Meh. And now they don't come anymore. Nobody does. I can't stand it... everything is the same, there are no footsteps, no talk. Maybe I should do something. No, I must do something. I wonder. **He** used to take them out from me, every so often. Maybe if I take them all out, in **his** name, for **him**, **he** will return. **He** will return. **He** will return! Why didn't I think of it before! I was stupid, unworthy of **him**, but now I know! It will hurt, it will hurt a lot, but I must be strong. I can withstand it. I must withstand it. For **him.** For love. > **Incident [[[scp-1673|1673]]]-1** > On ██/██/19██ , approximately 3 years after estabilishing containment, the guards located outside the perimeter of SCP-1673 have reported tremors consistent with seismic activity, and resulting in structural damage to the perimeter wall. Examination of SCP-1673 during its inactive period next day has found evidence of large-scale soil movement, and the exhumation of a large quantity of human remains in various states of decomposition, the freshest identified as D-833 (See Document 1673-Eta for experiment logs). > //Note: As the town of Westkin, Virginia isn't located in a fault zone, and subsequently collected evidence suggests the epicenter of the tremours to locate within SCP-1673, I request its reclassification to Euclid. - Researcher Cartwright// [[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]] [[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]