"Yeah! It was Carlson, right? Go on, tell us again how that 
happened! Walk us through it. Convince us this time the way you've 
been convincing us the past few minutes, right!?" As my vision was 
about to go completely dark, that lunatic... my body was thrown to 
the elevator door. Air left my lungs in exchange for a second wind of 
life. No one said anything. No one moved. 


| think we were all waiting for each other to make the next move. | 
mean, what would you have done if you were any of us? | couldn't 
speak; my mind was too busy trying to get itself working again. Dean 
wasn't going to speak; he was clearly waiting for me to say 
something, and | wasn't going to look up at him glaring down at me. 
That would have enticed him. Jenna wouldn't help; | saw her gaze 
turn to the elevator buttons. Brian was trying to tend to Carlson's 
wounds; he was no good. And Carlson... well, you Know why he 
didn't say anything. And the smell almost incapacitated all of us. It 
was a tricky situation. Whoever spoke next was going to lose. 


So we stayed there. | don't know how long it was, but I'd say... ten 
minutes? Fifteen? Completely silent except for the breathing going 
on. | know how interviewers roll; we almost never get to experience 
blood, right? Try sitting in puddles of blood sometime. Your own, or 
someone else's, it's the same. Maybe you'll understand why most of 
us weren't able to speak even if we wanted to. 


Carlson spoke up first, unfortunately for him. 


"H... He's right, Dean." You could practically hear Dean's light fade 
from his grin as he turned to face our old boss. It was safe enough 
to look up by that point. Yeah, he was still grinning. But the look on 
his face? Altogether different. He was covering up his rage. It was 
growing. Have you ever seen a hungry, angry lion? That was the 
look. 


"| wasn't asking you. Learn not to —" 


"L-Like he said, | killed them." Dean turned around and slammed his 
foot into Carlson's other shoulder. Brian stumbled back and Jenna 
covered her mouth. Hell, | was shocked too. 


"LEARN." He slammed his foot into his shoulder. "NOT." And again. 
"TO." And again! "INTERRUPT!" This time he kicked the side of his 
body and Carlson slumped over. His breathing got more ragged. It 
was a miracle he could even still stay conscious. "Neither of you 
have shown any proof! You jackasses need to start making sense or 
I'll just kill you both." He grabbed Carlson's hair and lifted him up. 
"And | will enjoy it." The smile was gone by then. 


Carlson was dropped and Brian quickly set him upright and tended 
to his wounds again. "Dean, shut the fuck up." Bless him, honestly. 
He barely had any tools and was doing the best he could. | think that 
made the difference, ultimately. "You know what the Foundation 
does to people who start senselessly killing others." 


"Yeah. Our good friend Vince here is going to be locked up ina 
containment cell for the rest of his life, our teacher is going to die 
before the Foundation does anything, Harrison and May will rot 
forever in Hell, and the rest of us conveniently forget this shit from 
the Forgetting Juice. Sounds like a good deal to me, doesn't it?" 


"Fuck off, let them talk. Jenna, give me your labcoat. | need clean 
material to treat Carlson." Jenna sighed and nodded, handing it to 
Brian. She was still shaking, which made sense. She's the most 
junior of us, right? Honestly, what was that old man thinking, 
bringing a junior onto his team? He should have known the risks. 


It was silent for a few minutes again. This wasn't another game 
though, seeing who would give in first. It was just too awkward to 
talk. That was the sense | had anyway. | never imagined one would 
feel awkward, of all things, in a life-or-death situation, but now | 
know. It felt like relief. 


"Hhhh... Harrison and May didn't like Dr. Carlson's treatment of 
humanoid anomalies." | broke the tension this time. Carlson bought 
me the opportunity to speak, so | took it. The more | talked, the 
tenser Dean got. "Every interview was personal. He called them 
something other than ‘it’ in his documentation. | don't know what 
pushed them into this. Probably when they overheard Brian and 
Jeffery... Ash or whatever, when they were talking about 
interviewing that washing machine like it was an actual person." 
Brian's eyes went wide. | smiled. "You didn't know? | don't blame 
you. It was only a couple weeks ago. Not like you could have 
connected the dots. They wouldn't tell anyone about their 
frustrations, since all of us just went along with —" 


Dean lifted me up without a word. My smile got bigger. "Right, you 
want to know how, not why. Turns out, you work for the Foundation 
long enough, your rank is decent enough, and appear mentally 
stable enough, they'll just give you a weapon for safety. That one 


was May's by the way. You can check the serial on it." 


"But you didn't have a weapon, and Dr. Carlson didn't either..." 
Jenna finally spoke up. She'd learned to stop shaking and actually 
contribute. It was a valid question, you know, even if they all forgot. 
Everyone but Carlson turned to me now. I'm sure if the couple were 
still alive they'd be wondering that too. | didn't mention it last time, 
but they hardly had any time to see it coming. 


"Do you all have that short of an attention span?" | opened my hand 
and concentrated for a bit. The gun appeared and dropped to the 
floor, and now everyone went wide-eyed! | can give you a 
demonstration now, but I'm sure that's in my documentation by this 
point. "I stole it from them and gave it to him. No ammo left. They 
only brought three bullets after all. One for Dr. Carlson, that one got 
in his shoulder, and two for... you guessed it." | grinned. 


"Fuck off." Dean dropped me and pinned my body to the elevator 
door, picking up the gun and aiming it at my chest. Oh, he was 
pissed. 


"Go on," | said. He pressed the trigger. Nothing. 
"Fuck off!" 
"But why you too?" Jenna exclaimed. 


"He treated me like a human instead of — ggh, fuck — instead of an 
anomaly. Turns out the lovebirds are very good at eavesdropping. 
Probably saw me more as a dangerous threat. Their fault for not 
reporting it sooner." 


"When did you tell Dr. Carlson, though?" 


"A few months ago when the anomaly manifested. Turns out, even 
the most benign anomalies one researches can have unintended 
side effects years down the line." Brian sighed, and Jenna buried 
her head in her hands. Must've been disbelief. 


"Which one, Vincent?" Brian's turn to question me. 


"That will go to the grave with the two lovebirds, Dr. Carlson, and I." 


The next thing | could recall was hearing that brute yell at me, since, 
well... | still have a giant bruise on my face. Probably kicked me, 
that bastard. | think he yelled for a couple minutes after that by that 
point. He sounded more hoarse and upset at that moment than 
when he was so confidently choking the life out of me. If | had the 
energy at that moment to look confident, | would've. 


"| said get up, you asshole! Tell us what it was!" | coughed up blood. 


"W-What... ggh." It got harder to speak. The only regret | had about 
the whole scene was Carlson not coming to my aid at that moment. 
He had problems of his own, yeah. Still, we were both in this mess 
together; shouldn't he have known to back me up too? And after all | 
was doing for him. 


ding 


The elevator started moving again. Everyone looked up. Jenna 
started the elevator again. 


"But __" 


"I've had enough of this. We need to get everyone here to the 
Medical Ward. We'll..." She looked down and away from everyone 
else. Couldn't blame her. "We'll let the Foundation sort the rest of 
this nonsense out." No one could dispute that. 


"Wh... what difference will it make if | tell anyone here what anomaly 
it was? The Foundation would j-just put it down in their 
documentation for a skip that hasn't been tested on in over a 
decade. I-| was the only one to do any testing on that specific part of 
it anyway. It doesn't... doesn't change what happened here. We siill 
need a mystery after all." | chuckled and continued. What? Can you 
blame me? It was just too amusing at that point. 


"And if Jenna didn't let the elevator... the elevator go down, you 
would have killed me anyway. You're a psychopathic, insolent child, 
and I'd... I'd rather sit in a containment cell than work with you for 
another seven, eight years." The smirk died down on my face. "The 
rest of you are fine enough. J-Jenna, take Dr. Carlson, Brian, take 
me, Dean..." | looked up at him. That felt good to say. 


"I'll go on my own." He dropped the gun by my feet. "Useless." No, | 
don't know who that was directed to. It doesn't matter much anyway. 
The elevator reached its destination, and everyone went to do their 
own thing. Dean walked down the hallway towards the Medical 
Ward, and the commotion and chatter from everyone on the floor 
could be heard. No alarms went off, at least. | guess he told them 
the situation was being resolved. At least he could be of use for one 
moment. 


Jenna picked up the old man and carried him towards the ward, and 
Brian picked me up. As he did, he questioned me one last time. 


"Which one?" 


"We worked on it before. You know the one." He frowned, but 
nodded anyway. | could tell; he knew the one. | wrapped an arm 
around him and let him drag me off, though | still had one last thing 
to take care of. 


"Ack __" 


| coughed and spit out some blood, and with my other free hand, 
dropped the two unspent bullets to the elevator floor. 


Oh, was that not where | should have started? Hah, my bad. You 
know how it is. Sometimes you don't know where the beginning and 
ending of these things are. Let me back up a bit then... 


« You've reached the "beginning", so to speak. | Flick of the Wrist | Now I'm Here » 
Hub 


Footnotes 
1. Really, his students, but with enough charm you can command 
anyone you want. 


Now I'm Here 


This is the second part of the Misfire series. First part 
can be found here. 


« Flick of the Wrist | Now I'm Here | Stone Cold Crazy » 
Hub 


So let's see, if | start back a couple weeks ago, that should be fine? 


Oh, you have a different account of the lead-up to the elevator. This 
is why you're coming back to ask me about it. Okay, let's hear it 
then. I'll clear up whatever you want. How do you think it went, then? 


"How come he gets two weeks off at a time? I've been working for 
the Foundation as long as him and I'm lucky to only get one," May 
stated. Her flat tone conveyed it all; she wanted someone to 
validate her frustration. 


"Because he's a Senior Researcher with Level 3 access who gets 
treated like he's Level 4, and you're only Level 2," Brian retorted. 
May looked away. "Hell, considering how hectic Site-19's been 
lately, we should feel lucky that we even still have the option to 
take vacations." 


"A tropical resort really does sound nice though, doesn't it?" Jenna 
sighed. Everyone in the room had a look of contentment on their 
face, clearly imagining what it'd be like to go to a resort for once. 
For safety reasons, especially during periods of unease at major 


sites, Foundation staff could rarely vacation to luxurious or tourist 
destinations without some kind of security, if at all. It was enough 
to pretend the sun was shining down on your face. 


"What are we supposed to be working on, anyhow? His video didn't 
really touch on that." It was Vincent's turn to speak up. "I assume 
the same projects, but he was doing solo work for a couple of 
them." 


"Don't be an idiot, Vince. That just means he gave those projects to 
people who aren't us." The atmosphere got tense as Dean stared 
down Vincent. An argument was bound to erupt. 


"Look who's talking." 
"What'd you —" 


"Enough," Brian interrupted, walking over to Vincent and grabbing 
his shoulder. "Do we have anything else to discuss before going to 
work for the day?" He gave Dean a sharp look. It was enough to 
defuse the situation at that moment. "The last thing you two need to 
be doing is fighting, unless you want me hovering over your backs 
all week." 


"Didn't realize you were our dad, sir." 


"I can call anyone who's been working with Dr. Carlson and see if 
they took over his projects. If not, I'll just see how we can split up 
the work." 


"Thanks, Vincent. We should get to work on our projects if there's 
no objections." Brian looked around the room. 


Harrison shook his head; everyone else stayed silent. 
"Great." 


After the morning meeting, everyone would go to their stations and 
work on their assignments. Usually, Dr. Carlson would try to 
supervise each of them when possible, as a way to prepare them to 
become project leaders or senior researchers, regardless of prior 
experience. Since everyone worked relatively close to each other 


(especially considering how big Site-19 was), it was easy to look 
over everyone. 


¢ Vincent was working as an advisor to various Mobile Task 
Forces specializing in dealing with artistic Gols, specifically 
Are We Cool Yet?. Agent Navarro assisted. 

* Dean was assisting MTFs with more combat experience. 

* May and Harrison were studying chemical-based SCPs. As 
they both ranked high in tests pertaining to mental resistance 
against cognito and infohazards, the three SCPs they were 
undertaking research on were SCP-3104, SCP-2022 and 
SCP-1711. During that two-week span in particular, they 
were focusing their attention on 2022, as Carlson couldn't 
alleviate the workload for them on the other two skips. 

¢ Brian's main project was SCP-2620, although he was 
preoccupied with helping Researcher Min on SCP-2211, as it 
had just entered containment. 

¢ Jenna was assisting Doctor Yamada with research into 
SCP-3224. 


This time was slightly different. With Dr. Carlson on vacation, it 
meant a lot more solo work and less hand-holding. 


Vincent had to place a number of calls before doing anything else. 
He went to Carlson's office; he was one of the two researchers 
working under him with trusted access to his office, Brian being the 
other one. Six calls were made. Five were to Dr. Carlson's 
colleagues. 


"Hey, Ms. Anderson! Yes, yes. I'm calling about Dr. Carlson and his 
outgoing projects. Do you know if he assigned anything of his to 
you or others while he was on vacation today?" 


"Hello, is this Researcher Piotrowski? Yes, it's Vincent Madyson. I 
was wondering if you had spoken to Dr. Carlson recently about 
anything he was working on? Do you know if he assigned that to 
you or others?" 


And so on. The final call took multiple tries before it connected; 
once it did, his tone, demeanor, and posture dramatically changed. 


Mr. Deeds' response: "Sir, the simplest and quickest method — 
which | must point out would not be the most efficient — would be 
for me to offer myself up for the creature to devour me; certainly its 
offensive capacities would be lessened whilst it is occupied in 
consuming my flesh. This would be simplest as it requires no 
preparation on my part, sir, but I'm certain you'll understand that the 
overall effect on the creature would be insignificant. Were | to 
engage the creature in combat, either with or without weapons, | 
could certainly occupy its attention and offensive capacities for a 
longer interval; unfortunately, I'm afraid the creature would 
eventually defeat me, at which point it would begin consuming my 
flesh as | have previously described. However, | could certainly 
booby-trap my person with a variety of noxious substances - 
soporifics, perhaps, or explosives, or perhaps encapsulated 
neurotoxins, or even [REDACTED], so that when the creature does 
inevitably consume me, it sustains further damage. That said, sir, | 
must remind you that the creature's tendency towards regeneration 
means that any damage | inflict would be sadly temporary."