Light looked around for Gillespie and found her again. She was 
brushing leaves from her clothing. 


The snowflakes were picking up. Gillespie looked at them, and then 
at Light. "We need to get out of here. Blast doors. Down the hall. 


remains constant between active periods. After an active period, 
topography and distance change to a new configuration. 


Once a driver has entered SCP-704, it begins its active phase. The 
active phase has been observed via remote cameras mounted to 
vehicles entering SCP-704 as part of various experiments. The first 
sign of the active phase is an increasingly excited disposition on the 
part of the driver. As the road becomes more challenging, the driver 
will begin to declare how much fun the road is and prod the 
passengers to watch his or her driving skills. Passengers show a 
uniform negative reaction to the road, exhibiting anxiety, paranoia, 
and fear. 


The road becomes increasingly more challenging, with mounted 
cameras recording the route actively changing in front of the vehicle. 
Several highly improbable road configurations have been observed 
including: 


¢ A tight circle that leads back to where it begins 
¢ A 70° incline 
¢ An apparent vertical loop 


The general appearance of the road and landscape changes as 
well, manifesting paved roads and dirt roads of varying degrees of 
quality. The driver’s excitement and the negative reactions of his 
passengers will increase, until the driver loses control of the car and 
crashes. A crash has never been recorded on camera, as all 
recording devices cease functioning before the event. 


This crash has consistently resulted in the deaths of all passengers 
but the survival of the driver. Passengers are generally found close 
to the crash, with injuries consistent with forcible ejection, although 
no signs of this are present on the vehicle wreckage. Interestingly, 
they are also generally recovered fused with local objects at a 
molecular level. No matter the severity of the crash, drivers will be 
recovered with nothing worse than scrapes and bruises. Drivers only 
retain partial specific memories of the time spent on SCP-704, but 
are always acutely aware that they have just been responsible for 
their passengers’ deaths. 


Take me." 


It didn't need to be said twice. Gillespie was a small woman, and 
Light had been stuck with a strict workout regimen for years. She 
scooped up and carried Gillespie as quickly as she dared down the 
hall, as the sounds of the battle behind them grew more intense. 


When they reached the security door Gillespie neatly typed a code 
into the keypad. The thick, green blast doors creaked open, and the 
last remnants of the frost dissipated as fresh air blew in. 


A flat tone shrieked, and through the mist there was a long howl. 
The doors were open now, as Light and Gillespie stepped through. 


As the door closed behind them, Gregory, his body weighed down 
with dead frost and dead robot weight, swung around the corner. 
Thundering down the hall, he was only moments too late to fit his 
body between the closing metal gate. For a few moments, there was 
scrabbling and scratching. Then, silence. 


Gillespie clutched Light, panting. "| Knew that would work..." 


Light patted Gillespie's head, and breathed a sigh of relief. They 
began walking down the hall. Behind them, Roget poked his head 
out from the ruined walls, and ran to catch up with his grandmother. 
Gillespie slowed down to accommodate him, then stopped. Walking 
to one of the doors dotting the wall, she punched another security 
code in, and opened the door. 


Inside was a sterile white room, with a navy blue door quietly 
occupying the opposite end of the room. Its light bulb was on behind 
the door, and shining through the slits. Gillespie hopped over to the 
door, murmuring to herself. "It's been... waiting for us? Yes, yes, this 
will work..." 


Light strolled in behind her, taking in the sights of the room. "What's 
going on?" 


The bulb clicked off, and Gillespie smiled softly. "Something useful." 


Gillespie opened the door, and scooped up the small piece of metal 
from the floor. She carefully inspected it, before turning to Light with 


a sparkle in her eye. "Better than | dared hope. We've got a chance 
yet." 


Light motioned to Gregory. "So, where to next?" 


Gillespie pocketed her new friend, and walked to the door. "We're 
burning down the house." 


SCP-2322, Motor Pool 
"Pontiac Azteks?" 


Gillespie walked among the fleet of Azteks, and frowned as she ran 
her hand across the car's oddly-shaped rear end. "This place is 
breaking down. These cars didn't even exist in 1999." 


Light, from across the room, called out to her. "This one has a tent!" 


Shaking her head, Gillespie turned her attention to the roof of an 
Aztek in the back row. Taking an adhesive from her purse, she fixed 
the laser pointer to the top of the car furthest from the wall, and 
tugged on it to make sure it was secure. 


Light ambled back over, and peered over Gillespie's shoulder. "This 
is going to be safe, right?" 


"Probably. If we cause enough destruction, it'll probably terminate 
the loop, and kick us all out." 


With that, she flicked the laser on. A red dot appeared on the wall 
across the motor pool, barely visible apart from the red line of light 
stretching from the car to the wall. They didn't have long to 
appreciate the sight, though. The pointer's effect was instant. Every 
car in the lot, dozens of Pontiac Azteks, began revving, starting up, 
and getting ready to go. 


Tires squealed as every vehicle began chasing the red dot. Almost 
immediately, most of them crashed into each other. But before too 
long, the logjam was cleared, and the automotive automatons were 
smashing repeatedly into the wall, onto the little red dot if they could 
help it. 


The destruction was enormous. The cars smashed and smashed, 
and cracks spread from the walls to the roof. The constant pounding 
brought down dust and pieces of ceiling, and the whole room shook 
like a tweaking chihuahua. 


Crack, crunch, crumble. 


The wall fell like it was 1989, and the Azteks began fighting for 
position. Gillespie and Light watched as they plowed through the 
next room, and the next, and the one after that, until they were out of 
sight. 


They waited a little longer, listening to the sounds of destruction as 
the Azteks made their way further into the Site. 


"This probably ought to knock the site down, right?" asked Gillespie, 
brushing some rubble off of her sleeve. 


"... Yeah. Probably. As long as they keep going." Light stared 
through the hole. "You want to, uh, wait in a car? Maybe see if the 
radio works, or something like that." 


Gillespie walked through the hole, appraising the crumpled wrecks 
of the few Azteks which hadn't survived the initial onslaught. She 
picked one and pulled on the door to the driver's seat. The door 
came off in her hand. 


Shrugging, she moved onto the second closest, which had most of 
its damage on the rear-end. "This one seems to be relatively intact." 


She got in first. Light got in behind her, and closed the passenger 
door. Light hit the lock button, then settled into her seat and closed 
her eyes. "Phew..." she said. 


"Why did you do that?" Gillespie asked. 
"Do what?" Light popped one eye open, returning Gillespie's look. 
"Lock the doors." 


Light looked away, through the window. The Rogetian apparition 
was playing with a piece of twisted gears, from one of the more 


ruined wrecks. "Shirley, you never know what's out there." 
"| do. And don't call me Shirley." 


Light sat up, still looking out the window. "We're not on first names 
yet, then?" 


Gillespie shook her head. "It's not that, it's... nevermind. You can 
call me that if you want to." 


The entire room began to violently sway. In the distance, there were 
several rather loud explosions. Chunks of the ceiling began falling 
down onio the car like raindrops, denting all which had not already 
been dented. Gillespie looked up, dismayed. 


"| was hoping that the loop would terminate before something like 
this happened..." Gillespie looked out the window, pursing her lips. 


"Something like what happened?" Light asked, as baby Roget 
phased through the doors and into the backseat, silently wailing. 


"Everything actually breaking down. We've never run a destructive 
test that was quite on this sc—" 


A large heap of metal interrupted her, as it crushed the hood and 
cracked the windscreen. Gillespie jerked back, her hand over her 
heart. "Oh, my. Oh dear..." 


"Just hang on. We just have to wait for it to pass, and we'll be fine. 
Don't worry." Light took Gillespie's hand. "Just relax." 


At that moment, a large, furry appendage slammed into the cracked 
windscreen. From outside the car, they could hear it calling, in a pre- 
pubescent voice. "Like, ohmigod Jane, there's totally stuff in here!" 


"Shit." Light pulled out the sidearm. Outside, the apparition of Roget 
screamed in terror as spiders swiftly overwhelmed him. 


Gillespie just closed her eyes. 


Skittering down to the front of the car, the appendage's owner made 
itself clear. A giant spider, bows in its hair and lipstick smeared all 


over its mandibles. 


Spiders began crawling up, from the cracked ground and through 
the ruined walls. They descended from the ceiling from webs, and 
thudded onto the roof over and over again. 


The car began rocking, back and forth. The compatriot of the spider, 
previously unseen, began to come join it by the hood of the car. 


Soon, every window was blocked by pieces of furry exoskeleton, as 
they chattered and pounded at every surface. The windscreen bent, 
but did not break. Pieces of glass showered the front seat. 


The car continued to rock back and forth, and both women clung to 
their seats, and to each other. They were thrust into pitch blackness 
as the outside of the vehicle was swarmed. The back windows were 
punched in, and a dozen legs began squirming and pushing to get 
in. 


The two of them shrunk into the front seat, with Light pointing her 
firearm back towards the sound of flailing limbs. The roof above 
them began to give way, as three more spidery limbs began blindly 
thrashing around. Gillespie cried out, her forearm snapping as a 
spider's leg jabbed her. 


It was then that Light and Gillespie felt their ears pop. 


At once, the spider's leg stiffened, and crumbled like ashes. The 
pounding from all sides ceased at once. The windows were still a 
void, but there was no more movement. Gillespie groaned, and 
clutched her arm. An ambient light began to shimmer down from the 
holes in the roof. Light looked over. "How bad is it?" 


Gillespie looked at the deformity on her arm. "Broken..." she 
mumbled, straining in her seat and gripping the steering wheel with 
a white-knuckle fist. "Look outside... is it over? Are we out?" 


Light pushed, and forced the door open, looking outside. 


"_.. It's different now. | think we broke it." 


222 


The shards of what were once a motor pool floated in space. The 
car, dented and twisted, sat on a small floating platform. Blue wisps 
of light twisted through the floating pieces of concrete. The air was 
thick, and permeated by a high-pitched ringing. 


Light carried Gillespie through the void. Gillespie's breathing was 
short, and her eyes closed. Light wasn't sure what she was walking 
on, as she strode past sections of rooms suspended in space. 
Occasionally, there were portions of people. Light tried not to look at 
those. 


There was a whistling in the air. 


"How are you holding up?" she said, adjusting her grip on Gillespie's 
frail form. 


"Fine... fine," Gillespie said, taking a deep breath. "Keep walking. 
He should be here... soon." 


Light looked ahead. There was something glimmering in the 
distance. It was a pink shimmer, drawing closer at every second. 


The whistling grew louder. 


In a flying V, they came. Pink flamingos, with sharpened metal 
prongs in place of legs. Dangling from three of them, suspended by 
thick, black leather straps, was the charitable robot, dripping oil, 
legless and covered in vines, but swinging its blade and silently 
flapping its waxen gums. 


"Fuck." Light groaned and took a step back. "Why won't this 
goddamn thing stay down?" 


The flamingos swept down from above, prongs at the ready. 
Ducking down and covering Gillespie, Light felt the prongs rip 
through her back, and the warmth as blood flowed freely from the 
wounds. 


The flamingos took the skies again, returning to formation with the 
android at the forefront. 


Again, they charged from the skies. The automaton swung its knife, 
with every wild swipe causing bolts and wires to be flung from its 
body. 


Light tensed, and rolled as it drew close, gripping Gillespie to herself 
as they dodged out of the way. The blade stabbed into the ground, 
and pulled the droid to the ground. 


Gillespie winced as Light set her down. Light stood up. 


The droid crawled towards them, clumsily waving its blade towards 
them. Its eyes dangled out of its sockets and its waxen lips cracked 
as they dragged along the ground. 


Light backed up, keeping a hand on her firearm. 


A figure darted towards them and stomped down onto the android's 
head, crushing it into pieces. 


Light watched warily, firearm still in hand. A young man approached 
them. He was a hairy little guy, coming only to Light's hips, and he 
was wearing a D-Class jumpsuit. 


"Director Gillespie... can you hear me?" 


Gillespie perked her head up, eyes open wide. "Oh... good, it's over. 
How nice to finally... meet you." 


E-8812 reached over and brushed the hair from Gillespie's eyes. 
"The feeling is mutual. You've made quite a mess today." 


"Wasn't... my intention.” Gillespie pushed against Light, who helped 
her stand. "I never intended to come here... like this." 


E-8812 took her hand, and instantly her pained face was washed 
away by relief. "Wow..." 


"It's a funny thing, pain. There was pain, when they all burned, or 
were crushed, or died in a myriad of other tragic ways. It was all real 
pain, even from fake people." 


Gillespie looked away. 


E-8812 looked around. "You know why this place exists?" 
"Because you created it?" 


He shook his head, pointing to Gillespie. "You made it happen. You 
were the first person... in quite some time, to show kindness. Really, 
it sort of wrote itself from there." 


Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a small picture. It was 
Gillespie, twenty years earlier. She was smiling with her husband, 
on a white porch in summer. "This is your world, Shirley. We're all 
just living in it." 


Gillespie took the picture. "Where did you get this?" 


"| don't have the answers, here, and we're almost out of time. Sorry. 
You're the only one who really has a final say." E-8812 clapped and 
waved his hands. The lights formed into a blue box, with a 
shimmering white spiral in the center. "Anyways, you know what we 
do now, I'm sure." 


Gillespie nodded. "Go on." 


The white spiral shone a bright white, and turned into the number 
three. "You blew up my base, and caused the deaths of thousands 
of people. You didn't recreate the day, but | sincerely look forward to 
the next time you try." 


Gillespie nodded, and then faded away. Light heard the sound of a 
door closing. 


"As for you,” said E-8812, stepping towards Light. "Don't ever come 
back." 


The white flashed to a big, red zero. Light felt the ground disappear 
from beneath her, and she fell. Everything went white for a moment, 
before shapes and sounds began to take form. Through the ringing 
in her ears, Light heard them saying her name. 


At the Lunch Counter 


Gillespie and Light sat by each other, in the center of the counter. 
Gillespie's arm was in a sling, but her spirits had never been higher.