Personal Log - 001
Dr. Rebecca Stone
The selection procedure was really creepy, why would they want me to
stare at a mirror and illicit a response from me? They say the mirror can tell
if I'm qualified for the Foundation, I didn't even know what "SCP" meant the
first time I heard it from the interviewer. I only brought my portfolio and
credentials at a certain office in Florida, they didn't want me to type the
address so I'll just say, it was an unfortunate event.
-Start of Log-
I've never been in such a huge library of curios that can either fascinate,
or scare the living wits out of you. As for my first day in the Foundation,
Dr. Richard, if it was his real name, had briefed me over the procedures on
which site I was to be stationed and the subject I was to do research.
He told me that it has something to do with SCP-682, and the reason
why the foundation is sending me there is quite unnerving. A researcher
has been recently killed by the said subject, and that they needed
someone to replace him immediately. I didn't volunteer for the position
of researcher, even if I knew it meant getting a higher salary and privileges.
"It's not worth it, I might as well pronounce myself dead as well."
I was given a room in the facility, very comfy I might say, with all the
minimalist would want in a 16x10 room. I requested for a small pot of
soil for my pet plant, whom I named Sally, I talk to her when I feel
lonely, and proved therapeutic for me in stressful times.
Walking me through the section of our site is Class-D personnel,
Margaret, I knew something was different in Margy(nickname), she
seems happy with her situation, even knowing her termination schedule
is in a few months. Save for the constant experiments she went through
that almost took her life abruptly, I both feel happy and sad for her,
happy that she has accepted her faith, and sad for the aforementioned.
My room is located three levels below the actual containment facility
of SCP-682, and is to be expected to have episodes of loud noises
originating from the subject on given intervals. I guess SCP-682 needed
a good yawn at some point in his boring containment chamber.
The cafeteria for this specific site is located within a brisk walk to the
left wing of the facility, I know I'm keeping tabs on location, I'm
paranoid in all these, things, being contained in this small, personal
hell that I had put myself into. I should have taken veterinary instead.
Having noted that, women bathroom is on the right wing, which needs
to be traversed by means of walkways directly above a crevice. I have
no idea that the whole place is rigged with a nuclear device below that
chasm of death and darkness, imagine! A nuclear bomb below your
sleeping bed? I don't think I'll be living to retire with this job.
I'll log more tomorrow, I'm beat with all the procedures this week
has taken on me. And I swear my reflection winked at me when I
was being interviewed that first day, creeped me out.
I can't look at my reflection the same way again.