SCP-6953

Link to article: SCP-6953.

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Like my stuff? Read more [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/blue-foot Here!]
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++* ##red|WARNING: THIS DOCUMENT IS NOT AUTHORIZED TO BE LISTED IN THE SCP FOUNDATION ANOMALY DATABASE##
##white|Access to this document is strictly prohibited, unless under the circumstance of authorized personnel viewing it with the permission of their respective site's head internet technician or a higher ranking superior. Otherwise, please report the existence of this document to your supervisor.##
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|item-number= 6953
|clearance= 0
|container-class= N/A
|secondary-class= N/A
|disruption-class= N/A
|risk-class= N/A
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**Special Containment Procedures:** Use this space to describe the procedures required to contain the anomaly.

**Description:** Use this space to describe the anomaly.

**Addendum.6953.1:** Use this space to add additional relevant information about the anomaly.

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My name is Adrian Walker. I am a security guard at Site-47. There has been a disaster at the site. I am holed up in Office 3-024 right now. I need help, or I'm going to die.
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Alright, I got the really important thing out there. If anyone is reading this, no, this isn't some new SCP, this isn't some bullshit memetic trap that's going to make you want to walk off a cliff or make your head explode, or something. I'm in Researcher Wise's Office. He had his computer open. He's got the clearance, so I just went and chose a spot and started typing into the SCP catalogue. No better way to call for help then put the entire Foundation on alert over some random new entry, eh?
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You know what? I've got nothing to do, I've got a computer, the site's on lockdown so I can't leave anyway, and I've heard that keeping busy can help get rid of stress. So what the hell. I'll tell you what's been going on at Site-47. For posterity, or some shit. Just make sure you read this once you get me out of here.

It all started a week ago. I was at Researcher Wise's-no, that feels weird, I'll just call him Harry. I was at Harry's birthday party a week ago. It really makes me feel like a kid to say that, but it's one of the few things the site manager will ever let us take extra breaks to do. It's a tradition to throw as many surprise birthday celebrations as we can, and random people from different departments will join in. Can you blame us when we work for some bitchy manager who won't give us a break from sunrise to sunset except for lunch hour? Anyway.

It felt like half of the site was waiting quietly in that dark cafeteria until lunchtime. Once we heard him walk in and mumble to himself, confused, it all came out like a dam breaking, it was awesome. Lights went on, party poppers went off, that stuff. The echoey ass room made it sound like we were singing "Happy Birthday," over radio static, but still. Half of the singers seemed to dip out at "Happy birthday dear Harry." but that's just part of the tradition at this point.

And, as usual, 90% of the people there didn't even talk to the poor guy. Everyone just got their cake and coffee and divided into their departments and made small talk, like they're high school cliques, or some shit. At least I talked to him, us [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-4265 SCP-4265] guys, we stick togeth

Fuck, what was that? I just ducked under the desk from that noise. That was a loud ass sound, it was cracking, or something. It was too wet to be metal or something like that. Maybe it was just someone dying down the hall? Probably.

Anyway, Harry is actually a good friend of mine. I guess you can call him my best friend. When your job is to stand over a guy for hours and make sure some freak accident doesn't take him out, you tend to either bond with him or barely even know his name. It seems I was more of the first case.

We were just standing around shooting the shit, and I gifted him a bottle of rum. I just had it around my room, I thought he would enjoy. Then, we overheard some of these MTF guys based at our site, Iota-17, I think, and they were talking about their next assignment.

"You heard about the next mission we're going on yet?" One said.

"No, I've been trying to avoid the commander after the whole door incident thing." Another said, chuckling. I have absolutely no idea what was going on between them, by the way. MTFs don't talk to us rent-a-cops.

"We're going out tomorrow. Some Chaos Insurgency guys set up shop not too far from us in the woods, in one of the old temporary containment facilities from before the site finished construction. I guess they think they're being sneaky. It's quiet, but the brass wants us to clear it out before they hit us when we're down."

"Fuck...what do they even have over there that we can't handle when they come to us?"

"The commander did some drone recon. An APC, a few troopers, and a biohazard transport truck. He thinks it's something important, seeing all the guards that were around it, but it's underground now."

Harry heard this, and he got way too excited. He should have mild interest at most, but he walked over to these guys and grilled them to hell. When they leave, where they're leaving from, what they know about that truck, if there's something anomalous in it, that stuff. They were getting more and more pissed at his barrage of questions, but then, he popped the big one:

"Would you mind if I went with you?" He asked one of them. If a slightly overweight 40 year old man could do puppy dog eyes, that's what Harry was doing. Unsurprisingly, the MTF guys told him to go pound sand.

It was weird, but Harry's always been a sort of a strange dude, and, hey, when you're a good listener, that's all I really need at work. He doesn't seem to really get it when people don't want to talk, pretty immature in a lot of ways, way too interested in stuff like true crime (I know everyone has some interest in that, but he likes it in a //w//

Fuck, there it was again! Same shit. Wet cracking sound, I dive under the desk, pretty much piss myself, and it goes away. It's going to take a full day to finish this shit at this rate.

So, I could tell you how it went during that raid on the Chaos Insurgency, but I could just show you. I'd bet Harry's weird ass had it saved somewhere on this computer, anyway.
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It probably would've taken less time to do this if those two screams in the hall didn't fuck up my train of thought, but I found something. Harry had some of Iota-17's video from when they were out last week saved on this thing. They probably sent it to him when he transferred to his new project.

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**Operation Video Log Transcript**

**Date:** 05/27/15

**Assigned Unit:** Mobile Task Force Iota-17 "Glory, Glory, Hallelujah"

**Subject:** Chaos Insurgency-Occupied Former Temporary Containment Site

**Team Lead:** I17-Com

**Team Members:** I17-1, I17-2, I17-3, I17-4

//Mobile Task Force Iota-17 arrived at the occupied site with no sight of hostiles. Video footage begins as Iota-17 enters the subterranean section of the facility via a side entrance staircase. The interior of the facility is entirely unilluminated, so the video begins as scotopic footage.//

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[BEGIN LOG]

**I17-Com:** I'll scout this out. Stay here, guys.

//I17-Com cautiously advances into the facility, his firearm raised and trained on the dark corridor in front of him. The sound of I17-Com's footsteps indicate that he is stepping through small pools of liquid, though the green coloration of the scotopic footage makes the liquid uncertain in identification.//

**I17-2:** Is it just me, or does it smell in here?

**I17-3:** No kidding, something fucking died down here.

//I17-Com reaches a divergence in the corridor and stops moving forward.//

**Site Command:** Iota-17, we have not ascertained anything with the instruments located on your uniforms that would signify the presence of the occupying hostiles. However, there has been no monitored movement of the Chaos Insurgency from this location, so it is likely that they still occupy the site.

**I17-Com:** Alright, we'll stay on alert as we continue. Squad, turn on your flashlights, and be prepared to turn them off at the first sign of trouble.

**I17-3:** They probably fucked off as soon as we noticed them.

**I17-1:** Let's not take that chance. Don't want one of those bastards to shoot us in our backs because we're strolling down the hall making a shitload of noise.

//All squad members of Iota-17 activate their respective head bound flashlights. While surveying the immediate area, I17-4 discovers that there are many small pools of water accumulated on the floor. It is also discovered there are numerous bullet holes in the ceiling, walls, and floor.//

**I17:-3** Shit went //down// here, man.

**I17-Com:** It looks like they shot through the roof and into the piping above us. That's why there's water everywhere.

**I17-4:** The tiles are all soggy, too. They may have shorted the wires in the ceiling with those leaky pipes' water.

**I17-2:** Let's ponder on this thought later, okay?

**I17-4:** Well, if we know why the lights are off, maybe we can turn them on, can't we?

**I17-2:** We have flashlights for a reason, man.

**I17-4:** Alright, alright.

//The squad moves together as they navigate down the right path of the corridor divergence. Immediately as they turn the corner, I17-3 makes contact with a human corpse, clothed in the uniform of a Chaos Insurgency rifleman, in a sitting position on the floor. I17-3, directing his gaze towards the cadaver stumbles backward in response. The cause of death seems to have been from one round shot through the head, as evidenced by the hole in the cadaver's temporal bone the pistol laying besides the corpse.//

**I17-3:** Fuck, fuck!

**I17-2:** Shut up! Don't fuck this up-

**I17-Com:** Both of you, quiet down, this is important. Command, we've discovered a dead body of a Chaos Insurgent who seems to have committed suicide. What is your recommended course of action?

**Site Command:** It is noted, I17-Com. Proceed with greater caution.

**I17-Com:** Affirmative. Stay vigilant, guys.

**I17-4:** Yes, sir.

**I17-3:** Don't need to tell me twice.

//The squad continues forward cautiously until it is necessary to make a turn in the corridor. All members of the squad turn the corner, training their rifles down the hallway.//

**I17-1:** Sweet Mary, mother of Jesus...

//Iota-17's path is largely obstructed by the mutilated corpses of several members of the Chaos Insurgency located further down the corridor. There are various limbs, organs, and tissues attached to multiple locations on the ceiling, walls, and floor of the corridor. There are three corpses visible in the footage. One corpse is relatively intact. The cadaver in question is bifurcated, as two halves of the corpse are attached to the parallel walls of the corridor, as a collapsed rib cage connects the two disconnected sides. All of the mutilated corpses' various parts are attached to their respective surface by a gray substance. The corridor has many bullet holes in its walls, floor, and ceiling. From some of these openings, flammable gases are escaping into the surrounding area.//

**I17-2:** Holy shi-shit.

**I17-3:** Jesus fuck! What the hell happened here?

**I17-2:** Better question, what the hell did this?

**I17-3:** That better not be three kidneys on the fucking ceiling?

**I17-Com:** Enough, guys!

**I17-4:** Do you think it's all that gray stuff holding them to the walls?

**I17-Com:** Maybe, it looks like glue. It could hold them to the walls, but glue can't mutilate a squad of armed troopers.

**I17-4:** Maybe some sort of reprisal killing. Mutineers?

**I17-Com:** Even if they're rebels of some kind, I doubt they'd go so far to make an artery spider web with their bodies and then scatter the pieces around.

**I17-2:** Maybe it's some-

**I17-3:** Fuck! Look out!

//A small, gray, imperfectly spherical mass appears from the gray matter connecting the corpses to their respective surfaces. It begins to accelerate towards the squad, occasionally bouncing off the ground as it advances.//

**I17-4:** You think it's what did this?

**I17-Com:** I'd rather not find out. Open fire!

//The squad members of Iota-17 begin to fire upon the small gray object. The rounds seem to neither damage the object, nor substantially impede its movement. The object continues to advance on the squad.//

**I17-3:** Kill it! Kill it!

//The squad's fire ignites the flammable gas escaping from the bullet holes in the wall. The gray object is engulfed by the flame, ceases movement, and begins to pulsate on the floor. The combustion quickly ends, as the flammable gas is incinerated.//

**I17-Com:** Cease fire!

//The squad ceases fire.//

**I17-1:** You think the bastard's dead?

**I17-Com:** You know what, Amir? I don't want to know.

[END LOG]

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//Mobile Task Force Iota-17 was recalled to Site-47 shortly after the events of this video log. The unit later returned to the site armed with incendiary weapons, and was instructed to capture and contain the anomaly within the abandoned temporary containment site later that day. They discovered that all of the members of the occupying unit of the Chaos Insurgency had expired, the majority of them due to mutilation. The anomaly described in this video log and five others similar to it were captured, moved to Site-47, and contained. The site's entrances were then sealed, as to ensure that any undetected anomalies do not escape the site.//

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Yep, that's pretty much it. Fuckheads in the Chaos Insurgency killed themselves with their own weapon. Pretty ironic, huh?

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So, whatever the hell was in that place came over to Site-47 by the next morning. I wasn't too excited about it, just another thing that can easily kill me stored five minutes from where I sleep. But Harry was all over that shit like a kid with candy.

He waited for it to come in at, like, 2 A.M. just to catch a glimpse. Then he was pissed at work that day because it was in a box covered with a sheet. But that didn't discourage him, he asked to transfer over to the new project on it. And that upset me, because then I had no one to talk to at work. Except Jackie, but still. If you care, she's another one of my coworkers. Sometimes we sat together at lunch and bitched about whatever was the problem that day.

Now that I think about it, he really //could'//

FUCK. What the fuck was that? Heard something just fall the fuck over, like a BANG sound, then the emergency lights went out. At least they're flickering now, but damn it, man.

Anyway, Harry gushed about this new skip all the time when I saw him. I'll be honest, I tuned most of it out, but this fucking thing didn't even get a number designation yet, and it seemed to be all he talked about. I remember some stuff. It doesn't like heat. It's smarter than most balls of gray goo. There was something about duplication or some shit, and also them squeezing through cracks. That probably explains why they kept it in what's pretty much an airtight oven. But that's all I remember him saying.

This went on for about a week. That brings us to today.

It all started at lunch hour, 12 P.M. We're eating the usual slop given to us, today was cube steaks, or at least whatever chemicals trick you into thinking you're eating that. The day was just the usual garbage all around.

Then, there was noise in the vents. Shit sounded almost watery, but like it was tumbling at the same time. My best comparison would be dumping Jell-O down a metal slide, except a hell of a lot louder. We get pests all the time up there, but this wasn't some rat scampering down the vent, it made everyone shut the fuck up and listen. It stopped for a moment. I even heard a couple dumbasses try to start up their conversation again. Then, the lights flickered. People stood up. They came back. Everyone's just confused. Then, they went off for good. Like, red emergency lights go on, everyone panics sort of shit.

That god damn watery sound got louder and louder, but eventually stopped for a moment. Then, I saw the vent about twenty feet above the floor fucking GUSH with gray shit, colored red by the emergency lights.

Now, none of us knew what that stuff was. It looked to me like the room was flooding, it was pretty much a straight stream of that gooey stuff. I wish I was right that it was just water, we could've just called the plumber and ended it there. But when that stream started separating into little balls of goo? Fuck...

Now, I'm a security guard. I'm supposed to have some authority, responsibility to those I protect, or whatever. But I don't get paid 15 bucks an hour to be a hero to a couple of lab coats. So I ran. I was booking it out of that damn cafeteria, I wasn't going to risk anything with those things. Good thing too, I was right near the door. Definitely closer to it than most others in that room. Punish me when you get me out of here, I don't give a shit anymore.

Now, I got out of there before most of the people in the cafeteria could escape. I looked back. Damn, I was lucky. One bastard hit the emergency lockdown button on my side of the opening, and the big ass doors to the place started coming down. People were climbing over each other to rush out of that entrance before it was too late. Security guards, fellow cowards like me, were pushing aside old scientists to get out of the room in the rush. I didn't know what the goo even did then, all I knew was that my coworkers were turning into animals to escape it, and people were dropping like flies in the back of the stampede.

Shit didn't get real until the door came all the way down. There's a reason there are alarms blaring and lights flashing when they lower, you're supposed to lock your ass down. They stop for nothing, including people. Five people got stuck in the door as it came down. I wish they just left themselves to the goo. The worst part of it is that your body is too well made to get cut cleanly with that sort of thing. The one guy who had his head split open when he tried to slide under the door was the lucky one. The door pins you down, it chokes you, it crushes your insides. All their faces, the terror, mostly. Or maybe it's surprise? Their eyes fucking bulged from that shit. Now that I think of it, that's probably what a tick feels when you squeeze it. Not enough room anymore, all that excess gas and guts has got to go somewhere. Those fucking faces...

In just that one room, I'd guess the site lost around half its staff. Most of the researchers, a few D-Class, all of Iota-17. Pretentious jackasses died like the rest of the rent-a-cops. The site manager is gone, too. I guess we'll get some actual break time now, huh? Don't need to throw those surprise birthday parties anymore.

This really is just one big surprise party, isn't it? We've had a hell of a surprise, for sure. Bitch probably has a surprise party waiting for her in hel

Shit. It's those noises again. I gotta hurry this up. There's something that comes by the room constantly, it's like a bunch of bouncy balls going up and down the hall. I can't type when they're close, this keyboard makes so much fucking noise. I hear footsteps upstairs. I hope they're clean-up guys, maybe they broke the site lockdown. Probably not, I'd bet they're just some poor bastards wandering around for no reason. Whatever, whatever is in the hall probably heard me anyway. It's probably good that I was cut off, though, no reason to get all vindictive now.

So, the door closed. Not fully, but for whatever reason, the tsunami of gray didn't come out the opening at the bottom. Probably from the bodies all piled up on the other side.

It wasn't over yet, obviously. I realized then that I was still holding my food tray there. I saved the fucking cube steak from that room. Not a person, not even something valuable. Just some chemicals pretending to be beef. And it saved my life. Funny how those things work.

What I mean by that is what happened just after I got out. I'm looking around, totally lost. Hell, an emergency wasn't even technically declared yet. Half of Site-47 was gone, and the guards up top didn't even know to call for help.

For whatever reason, one of those little gray goo fuckers was on its own. Probably got lost in the wave that flooded the cafeteria. Bastard literally rolled into the room and stopped. It didn't even notice me for a second. I stared that shit down for multiple seconds. I know it saw me. We were just waiting for what the other would do, like a damn cowboy showdown. That was, until it jumped at me. Fast.

What happened then is just a blur, really. I jumped when it did that. More importantly, I threw up my arms to protect myself. It wouldn't have helped. I also threw my lunch tray up, and the food flew in a different directions. Somehow, the gray shit hit the cube steak midair and just...stopped. Thing was jumping at me at around 20 miles per hour, and it just totally stopped moving in the air and fell to the ground when it hit that shitty little cube steak.

The goo took my food to the ground with it, too. The shit started spreading out on the floor, but kinda slowly, though. The steak got stretched out with it, then was slowly torn apart. In what was maybe two minutes, that fist-sized goo sphere spread out to cover half the floor, and little meat chunks dotted the area it covered.

Have you ever messed with clay? You know how, if you press it out wide enough, like you're making a pizza, it gets thinner and thinner, and eventually it tears? Yeah, imagine that it's not your clay that breaks up. Instead, it's your fucking hand that's torn apart as the goo spreads out and takes you with it. That's pretty much what the gray ball things do.

About that time, if the screams from the cafeteria and the spreading goo shit weren't enough, I realized it was probably for the best to get the hell out of there. I just booked it out of that room. After about 30 seconds of sprinting, finally, the alarms started blaring. Full site lockdown, and all that shit. That finally made me stop and think.

I couldn't get out, no one was coming for awhile, and there was nowhere to go. So, I decided to go to Harry's room. It wasn't too far from where I was, maybe half way across the facility. No real reason not to, and, hey, at least that would mean I could go out sipping cheap rum with him when I got there. And who else was going to risk the goo noticing them to harbor me in their hiding spot, fucking Jackie?

So, I started walking. I felt weirdly confident. I had my pistol and a direction to go, more than most people stuck in this hellhole with me. The room after the next put an end to that confidence early on, though.

That room was a kind of intersection, the facility is fucking full of those. I thought I would keep going, until I heard woman a scream from the room off to the right. Not even really a scream of terror. More of a disgusted scream, an "Ew, what is this shit?" sort of yell. I looked over to the right. The door was open a crack. Like the dumbass I am, I ran over to see what was going on. I flung open that door, it was a janitor's closet.

In that closet was Jackie (or Researcher McCarthy, if you want to search her up on the employee list.) She was standing under the vent on the wall of the room. The goo had glued her hand to the wall, and she was trying push off of it with her foot. She turned to look at me. She looked concerned, but not like she knew she was already dead.

"Fuck," She muttered. "Adrian, help me pull my hand off."

"Yeah." I said, and God, that goo is //strong.// I wouldn't be surprised if it's impossible to make it let go. I grabbed her arm and pulled as well, and we got nowhere. The goo spread out more, and her occasional mutterings of "Ow." became more like repeatedly saying "shit" and "fuck."

About the time the gray goo flattened out to look like a pancake on the wall, I stopped pulling on Jackie's arm and pulled out my gun. I aimed at the parts around her hand and shot the goo a couple times. It did nothing except freak her out more. She looked back at me. There was no more disgust, just panic now. She was swearing like a sailor, she was pulling her arm back even harder than when she started. Nothing. I didn't think of it then, but the goo was tearing her knuckle apart right then.

Then, another fucking goo ball fell from the vent and landed on her head. She tried to tear it off, but all she managed was getting her other hand stuck to her head. A third ball fell from the vent, it hit the ground and glued her foot to the floor. A fourth one came from the vent and jumped out at me. I slammed the door. The thing left a dent in the God damn metal. I repeatedly yelled "I'm sorry, Jackie." as I ran away, while she screamed back for me to get my ass back there. Whoever is reading this, don't open Supply Closet 2-003 unless you really want to see what's in there.

Fuck, and just as I write that, that bouncing sound comes back! It slowed down by my room this time. That isn't good, I'd imagine. Those people upstairs are still there, too, they better hurry their asses up.

So, I ran until I couldn't hear Jackie's screaming anymore. What was it, a good thirty seconds of straight sprinting? However long it was, I then started walking , and I moved like that for a good ten minutes without much happening. That was until I ran into another poor guy in a hall. Thank God the emergency lights were on, I wouldn't want to see that clearly.

He was a fellow security guard, but I didn't know him. Poor bastard probably came in and had no idea what was going on. He was glued to the floor, I think his foot got stuck in one of the goo balls and he fell on his back. Whatever the hell happened, it wasn't pretty.

His head was a good 15 feet away from his leg, that's how far this goo shit spreads. The goo wasn't really gray anymore. It was all red, and not because of the emergency lights. Big ass splotches of blood were around his limbs, and they were all over the place. His hand seemed to have rode with the goo as it began to climb the wall, and it hung onto it by the stump. It was like it was offering me a high five. His torso stayed mostly intact, somehow, but it didn't really even look human. The goo didn't tear him entirely apart, it more took the legs and arms to random areas in the hall and left the body almost caved in. The skeleton was slowly coming out through the back, the goo had gripped his tailbone and intestines after his upper and lower halves split. Everything above the shoulders was deflated, the skull was being dragged downwards and moving everything aside as it went, so his head was just skin. His brain was probably around where his heart should've been at that moment. Most importantly to me, though, was that this "Saw" style shit was in my way. I had to make a detour.

The trip was a little bloodier after that. I ran into a few more people. All dead, of course. I think the most striking was the guy who was dead on the ground near the rec room. His chest had burst open, and there were all these little cuts all over him, particularly his head. His face wasn't really a face by then, it was just all red. His arms were around five feet above him, glued to the fucking walls on opposite ends. The goo pretty much crucified him.

Actually, one might've still been alive. The crap had some poor lady by the face. She wasn't moving, but she wasn't limp, either. I think she just gave up. If I stayed for a few minutes, I think she would've looked like Ghost Rider, but without the fire.

I myself even had some run-ins with the ball form goo shit. They either move alone sneakily, or in packs. I remember standing behind an open door near the armory, and maybe 200 baseball sized gray fuckers came rolling down the door I was about to walk through. Elementary school hide-and-seek tactics, I know, but they're only smart for gray goo standards.

Finally, I came around Harry's office. I knew already that he was probably the first to die, his new office was right next to the goo's containment chamber. I walked by that chamber, too, and the open door and low heat inside that thing made me think that, somehow, the goo multiplied when the room got cooler at some point, then got out when someone opened the door. Makes no sense, but that's the shit I've got.

The first thing I did was visit the generator room that was just down the hall. What was important to me was that the generators handles the non-critical internet service in the facility, and emergency generators don't cover that. If I wanted to call for help in any way that's fast at all, I needed power.

And you can probably guess how well that went, seeing how I'm writing this shit in the database now.  The generators were fucked, I don't know how, but they were scorched on the outside. I think the goo got inside them and short circuited them, or something. At least I know the goo got the engineer, the guy was pretty much tangled in a web of the gray stuff between two generators. He wasn't even killed like the rest of them, I'm pretty sure he was covered in so much of that crap he suffocated in it. It was like a God damn spider got him, like how they wrap up the stuff they catch in silk. The only part of him not stuck in that shit was his arm reaching out, like he was drowning.

So, I had nothing to do in that room, and I went down to Harry's office. It was open a crack, so I pretty much knew what happened before I went in.

Yep, Harry was dead in there. Wasn't really a shocker to me. He wasn't like the other dead guys, though. He was just lying on the floor, totally bloated. He was a big guy, but not //that// fat, it looked like he had been rotting there for days. He didn't even look like a person, he just had a big lump in his gut and he lowered from either side. His round cheeks, his double chin, his arched back, it was all just bloat, a blob. Fucker was like a beached whale. Gray shit was coming out every hole in his body like roots. Out the mouth, the nose, hell, it pushed his eyes out the sockets and were coming out of his head. Did the goo somehow get in his mouth?

And, after three hours of writing next to that, I've written up to now. Fuck! Now I have nothing to do!
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Alright, so I've been digging around Harry's computer, and found a draft email called "Message to Lieutenant Abuev". Let me just copy-paste it in real quick.

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Dear Lieutenant Abuev,

I've worked in this site for over 10 years, and I've seen so many terrible things. You've seen your fair share as well. Today, I've finally done something about it. It's loose.

It's been a pleasure working with the Insurgency for the past half year. I'm especially happy that I can stop pretending to be mentally a child, I don't need to avoid suspicion anymore.  No more acting, no more hiding.

I'm not sure if I'll get out of here alive, but I'll find you if I do.

I hope to see you soon,

Researcher Wise

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Harry, you motherfucker.

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Alright, I'd love to chat all about how Harry stabbed us in the fucking back, but there's shit in the vent again. I can hear it. It's coming after me, I know it is. Pieces of shit must've heard me typing. I'm going to make a Molotov with Harry's lighter and his birthday rum. Fucker can pay me back a little bit, then. I'm going to torch the goo shit and run, those footsteps upstairs better be who I hope they are.

I end this with something for anyone reading: My name is Adrian Walker. I will be on the second level of Site-47. I need help, or I'm going to die.

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