I Am Ready - SCP Foundation

There is a man

In my attic

Walking around

With a soft patter

With a loud clatter

They brought my cat back

With an espionage bug

So I wrung its neck

With a harsh crack

And a soft snap

There is a man outside

In a lab coat

Talking into a cell phone

In German

And he uses words like

‘Eindringen’

‘Geheimnis’

And ‘termination’

And I know what that means

Oh yes, oh yes

I can see his cigarette through the dark

And the smoke

Of the monkey

At his side

Who peers in through my window

When he knows I’m looking

There are at least a thousand men in suits

All over town

Waiting for me to pass by

And to look down

They have a laser device

To scan my eye

And a pill

That will make me forget

Everything

That I have learned

About them

And their evil

Their experiments

And unwarranted merriments

They throw people to the lions

For science

But I know words, my dear

Words that they fear

Words like

‘Gears’

‘Kondraki’

‘173’, ‘231’, ‘343’

And ‘682’, too

And I chant

While I wait

For them to leave

They know that I know

And I know

That they know I know

So I will pray and pray and beg

For them to go

They’re digging a tunnel up through my basement

I have heard them, down there

I have put down caltrops

And a Winchester rigged to fire

(I hope they feel lucky)

If they try to come up the stairs

They will be in the crosshairs

Of my Ruger

And my Luger

I have a knife

Oh

How did you guess?

It’s the one they used

To kill my wife

She knew too much

There is a man across the street

He has a moustache

And a sniper rifle

I painted the windows black

And I hid in my bathroom

But I am safe nowhere

A man with tattoos

Was peering up from the bottom of the bowl

I slammed the button, listened for the flow

And wished he would go

I can hear them

Walking around

Above and below

And outside

But I will no longer hide

What I did is for the best

And the people must know

Of these men and their doings

They can come in, slow and steady

I have my gun

I am ready.

Agent McPhelty washed a few splatters of blood from his night-vision goggles in the sink. He shook the droplets off his hands and toweled them off, turning around. The living room in the stairway where clearly visible through the open door. His partner on this specific operation, Agent Konnicker, was standing over the prone corpse of the man he had taken down, his heavy sniping rifle slung over his shoulder. Blood and splinters of skull were alternatively splattered over and embedded in the fine oak planks of the stairs, and the stink of freshly-sheared copper hung in the air like a cloud of miasma.

"Hey Tom," the hefty Texan sniper mumbled through his impressive mustache, "check this out."

He was waving a sheet of A4 paper around. McPhelty snatched it from him, frowning as he looked it over.

"…now what in God's blue heaven is this shit, Bill?"

"I do believe he snapped and wrote hisself a little poem. Found it in his pocket."

McPhelty looked down at the fallen corpse of Richard Daublin, the dead spy. Their hacker would later discover there was at least half a terabyte of sensitive information pertaining to the Foundation scattered on various hard drives through his five laptops, but right now, with most of the top half of his head missing, he didn't look so smart.

"Wouldn't quit my day job, if I were him."