Late Night - SCP Foundation

It had been dark for hours, and it was starting to get to him. Sitting at the computer, he'd caught himself glancing more and more times at the nearby window, the space beyond so dark it acted like a weak mirror. He hated having big, black open spaces near him. Childish, he knew, but knowing that didn't lessen the fear of walking past an open, dark doorway in a dimly lit hall. Which was probably part of why he was still up. He clicked off the page he was on and rubbed his eyes. The worst was, as it got darker, every site he browsed seem to take on a slightly sinister edge. Even the bright, garish social network sites seemed to be tools to help illustrate that, even with 184 friends, you are still alone, in the dark.

He leaned back in the chair, sighing as he noticed someone or something walk by the window. Instinctively, his eyes flicked to the computer screen, checking for any incriminating tabs. Probably a deer or something, they did live…he paused, suddenly looking around as if seeing the room for the first time, rocking to his feet hard enough to shake the computer desk.

The thing had had a face.

He was on the second floor.

And the face was back.

In the few seconds he watched, it was the absences that struck the strongest. No nose. No hair. No ears. No lower jaw. The additions were equally horrific, with the teeth, the too-long neck, the vertical mouth and yawning eyes, but it was the missing things that stuck the hardest. He sat, feeling drugged, hypnotized, even as the spidery, too-wide fist rose and pulled back.

The glass exploded in, the sharp slashing pain breaking the spell, but the thing was already there. It grabbed, the skin feeling electric and slimy-cool like a reptile, the last coherent sensation he experienced. The rest were Impressionist: Pulling. Pressure. Tearing. Liquid sliding. Sudden numbness. He finally passed out as his ribs were being worked slowly and methodically free. Idly, he wondered why it was tossing them in to the hall.