Nodding, Light moved ahead of her, and into the elevator. Placing 
her empty glass onto her desk, Gillespie followed. The elevator 
doors smoothly and silently shut as they began to descend to safety. 


SCP-2322, Safe Object Wing 


The elevator took them to a quiet patch. They stuck to the walls, 
checking around corners and minimizing noise. Occasionally, a 
distant explosion or scream would remind them that there was 
trouble afoot, and made them watch each step even more carefully. 


"What exactly are we looking for?" whispered Light, as she peeked 
around one of the endless corners that made up the rat-trap of a 
wing. The small Roget crept along with her, poking his nose over the 
corners after Light passed them by. 


"Something useful," Gillespie whispered back, reading the labels on 
the doors as they passed. "Anything that might give us an edge." 


"Wait," Light said, crouching. "Look. That door's open." 


So it was. A door was ajar, halfway, standing perfectly still at the far 
end of the hallway. There were no marks on it, or the surrounding 
walls, to suggest what, if anything, had come out of that door. 


Behind it, a voice called out. "Is that you?" 
Light's brow furrowed. Was that Lament? She strained to look. 


Sure enough, it looked that way. Lament walked into the light 
coming from the open containment chamber. "| came as soon as | 
heard. Is everything okay?" 


Light frowned, and looked down at Roget. "... 


The phantastic child was too occupied with Gillespie's shoelaces, 
and didn't pay anyone any attention. Gillespie herself was chalk- 
white, speechlessly staring ahead. 


Light looked back towards the Lament, frowning. "What did you give 
me on our first date?" 


Shaking his head, Lament took a step forwards. "Don't do this, 
Sophia. I'm me. | said | came as soon as | heard what was going 
on." 


Sighing, Light took a step back. "Not what | asked you. What did you 
give me on our first date?" 


It was at that point that Lament's face began to melt. "Light... 

whabble... Gillespie Gillespiesgddgdsd..." the voice faltered, as the 
being drew closer. Like a ship seeing through the parting fog, Light 
could see there was no Lament. Only an oily, quivering fleshy blob. 


"The snot," gasped Gillespie, clutching onto Light for support. "Just 
the... damn... snot..." 


But not quite. A rubbery looking skin punched a hole out of its slimy 
vehicle, writhing with the robotic skeleton beneath it. It only 
managed to get its head and arm out, before becoming stuck. It 
flailed about, trying to free itself. 


Gillespie's grip on Light tightened. "It's using my specimens!" 


Light looked down, and took Gillespie's hand. "We need to get out of 
here, ASAP. Can you run?" 


"No... Yes... I'm fine... | just need a few seconds." Gillespie leaned 
against the wall, her face ashen. "I'm fine." 


The robot continued to worm its way out of its slimy vehicle. It 
seemed to be having a difficult time, and the two women watched it 
warily from afar. "| can help you, if you need it." 


As she leaned one hand against the wall, the other over her chest, 


Gillespie huffed. "I said | was fine." She righted herself, and stood 
tall. "Let's continue. We can go around the obstacle." 


"Where are we going, exactly? An armory?" 


Gillespie shook her head, and pointed further into the Site. "| don't 
know how to shoot. I'm also of the opinion that firearms are useless 
against that... he's wearing a dead boy's skin, you know that?" 


Light wrinkled her nose. "Do | want to know?" 


"No. But it stops bullets better than your vest does." Gillespie began 
walking away from the robot, still watching it. 


Light followed. "So we're not looking for a gun.” 
"No. We're fetching a mop." 


The robot managed to work out its other arm, and began eagerly 
digging the rest of itself out of its imprisonment. They booked it, 
going as quickly as they could down the hallway. 


Gillespie led them to a door that opened to a large, transparent tank 
filled with a clear liquid. Gentle jets of water kept a simple janitor's 
mop floating in the center of the tank, slowly spinning and not 
touching any of the edges. A shimmering green ooze leaked from 
the mop's end, before disappearing as it mixed with the tank's 
chemical containment compound. 


Light could hear the android coming down the hall, dripping with 
fluids. She kept her eye on the would-be assailant's route of attack 
while Gillespie picked up a large pair of tongs and extracted the mop 
from its container. 


Gillespie handed the mop to Light. Light looked at it for a moment 
before taking it in hand. The robot was free now, and it cast a 
shadow upon the wall as it came around the hallway's corner. 


Light took a stand as it came around the corner. It was covered in oil 
and looked like a man with the wrong skeleton. It blindly and wildly 
swung its knife as it marched towards. 


"SOPHIA LIGHT," it blathered, stumbling towards her. "WHY NOT 
DONATE TO THE LATTER CHURCH OF THE BROKEN SAINTS, 
for ONLY—" 


Light struck quickly, popping the mop into its mouth. "No solicitors." 


She twirled the handle, aggressively splashing the inside of the 
principal skin with acid. As the mop twisted and turned, creating 
unsightly bulges from beneath the loose skin, the android's wild 
swinging was reduced to slow sinking. Noxious gases rolled out of 
the skin's various orifices as the robot fell onto its back, spasmed, 
and was still. 


Roget clapped. 


SCP-2322, Euclid Object Wing 


The walk over to the Euclid containment area had been surprisingly 
quiet, with only distant screams and explosions, and occasional 
power outages. It seemed like as good a place as any to find a way 
of defending themselves. They arrived to find it littered with debris 
and fallen fake men, but nothing of substance. 


Light gingerly slid the handgun out of the dead guard's grip. The 
small phantasmagoric child shielded itself behind its grandmother's 
legs, waiting for her to finish. "I think something's already been 
through here." 


"What makes you say that?" asked Gillespie, poking over some 
ruins with a broken piece of rebar. 


Roget's apparition, apparently bored of being afraid, toddled over to 
be by Light again. 


Pulling her jacket closed, Light shivered. "It's getting colder. Is that 
something to worry about?" 


"No... | don't think so. Possibly. Probably not," said Gillespie, as she 
sat down upon a pile of rubble. "Not unless you see snow." 


Light continued walking into the wing, stepping over the shattered 


remains of the entrance checkpoint. Broken glass crunched under 
her feet, as another gully gust of chilled air swept over her. 
"Something's definitely modulating the temperature. | can feel it from 
here." 


Gillespie looked over from her seat. "Do you think we should keep 
going in?" 


Light shrugged, and peered further down the hall. "It's your site. 
You'd know what it might be better than | would." 


Picking herself up, Gillespie gingerly followed through the debris 
field behind Light. "I don't think we're in any immediate danger... we 
should keep going. We'll be fine." 


The destruction became more apparent as they progressed deeper 
into the wing. Every single door was a singed remnant of its former 
frame, and there was broken glass and twisted, burnt pieces of 
metal littering the scorched halls. 


Lighting had become a luxury, so they kept a hand upon the wall as 
they proceeded, with only the occasional spark and Light's 
cellphone-light to keep them going. A low mist hung around their 
ankles. 


At a moment neither of them took note of, a delighted smile crossed 
over Roget's face. In the darkness, he slipped ahead of them. 


It was at that moment that the lights flickered back to life. 
Light and Gillespie both looked around for any signs of treachery. 
Down the hall, frosty winds billowed from an open steel security 


door. Light aimed her weapon at it, and began to walk closer. "I think 
we've found who's letting the cold demons out." 


Gillespie walked behind Light, and read the inscription next to the 
door as Light opened the door to its full outstretched position. 


".. It's Walt." 


Light glanced over. "What?" 


"Walt Disney. We've got his head on ice." 


A childlike voice squealed with delight from inside the room. 
Gillespie's head snapped towards the sound's source. "Ralph?" 


Before Light could say a word, Gillespie had shuffled into the cryonic 
containment chamber. 


Light followed. She was greeted with the sight of Gillespie's 
grandson's transparent replica, surrounded by prancing, ringing 
sheep with coats made of rotary dial phone cords. In place of a 
head, there was a telephone. 


Walt Disney's frozen head was poised on a pedestal at the center of 
the room, with two phones attached and off the hook. A voice 
emanated from one of the phones attached to Walt's pedestal. 
"Director! It's delightful to see you again!" 


Gillespie stepped forward, smiling and shivering. "Hello, Walt." 


"Please accept my apology for the chill, Director. We had a spot of 
trouble with the thermostat. Luckily, my ovine imagineers were here 
to help." 


On cue, all of the sheep's rotary phones began ringing off the hooks. 


"Now, to what do | owe the pleasure, Director?" asked Walt, his 
immobile head's lips staying in place beneath the glass. 


"... Where to start?" Gillespie exhaled, and crossed her arms. "It 
hasn't been the best day." 


"Well, it brought you and your grandson together, so how bad can it 
really be?" 


"Pretty bad, Walt. He's helping, but it's tough." 


One of the sheep came forward, Roget on its back. A small 
matchbook had been placed on the phone. "This might help you," 
said Walt. "It's how | kept myself presentable while my imagineers 
went to work." 


Light picked up the matchbook, examining it. "What is this?" 
Gillespie looked at Light. "It's a matchbox full of winter, dear." 


"Oh, cool," said Light, as Roget dismounted his mighty steed. 
"Thanks, Walt." 


Walt said nothing. Plucking the matchbox from Light's hands, 
Gillespie turned to leave, motioning for the little Roget to follow 
along. 


Walt called out after them. "Just one more thing, Director." 
Gillespie turned at the threshold. "Yes?" 

"It's dangerous to go alone. Please, be careful." 

Gillespie nodded. "I will, Walt." 


Light followed her outside. "Can't say | expected to meet Walt 
Disney when | woke up this morning." 


Gillespie walked around to the security door, and began pushing it. 
"Help me get this closed, please. The last thing we need is for things 
to get colder." 


Nodding, Light moved beside Gillespie and pushed. "Jeez, this is 
heavy. You need all this to keep a head locked up?" 


Gillespie struggled beside her, as the door slowly began to squeal 
closed. "Just keep pushing. | think... after this I'd like to rest a spell." 


Light huffed and puffed. "That's a great idea." 


As the door locked into place, they both leaned upon it, wiping their 
brows and sliding to the bottom of the door. The cold steel felt good, 
like a cold shower frozen solid. They leaned on each other, the 
exhaustion suddenly catching up to them. 


Eventually, Light spoke up. "What a day, huh?" 


"Yes... but I'm guessing it's nothing new for you." 


"| don't go out looking for danger. A lot of those stories are... 
exaggerated." 


"Oh." Gillespie looked down at the matchbox. "You were... very 
good with the mop. That robot was relentless..." 


"Oh, uh... thank you." 


Gillespie touched the frost on the ground. "It's warming up already. 
We should go." 


Light groaned. "In a minute." 
Gillespie closed her eyes. "| was hoping you'd say that." 


For a time, they laid there, their breathing slowly descending from 
exhaustion, too tired, too sleepy, too asleep. The Rogetian 
apparition curled up in his grandmother's lap. Underneath the 
buzzing lights and lying on frozen steel, they waited for the sake of 
it. It wasn't until a malodorous scent invaded the corridor that the 
peace was broken. 


"Do you smell that?" asked Gillespie, slowly picking her head up 
from Light's shoulder. 


"Yeah... like a biology lab. Or my garage." Light stood up, bracing 
herself as stiff muscles whined about a rude awakening. "It's coming 
from down there." 


From whence they had came, it emerged. Before them stood a 
gigantic and leafy doberman topiary, with the head of a man. It was 
a decapitated and aged head, covered with mollusks and with 
sagging, pallid flesh. The vines and leaves swiveled menacingly as it 
came upon them. 


Before either of them could move, it was already on top of Light, 
pinning her beneath tree trunks of paws. Gillespie scrambled away. 
Light was too astonished to struggle. 


The thing opened its mouth, and a mollusk-like tongue oozed out of 
its mouth. 


It licked Light's face like man's best friend ought to, and then sat 
obediently, awaiting command. 


Gillespie had found Light's gun, and was now staring at her and the 
thing. 


Light let out her breath. "... | think it's friendly.” 


SCP-2322, Safe SCP Wing 


It took Light around fifteen minutes to decide that she'd forgive 
Gregory for getting goo all over her face. Riding on his back was 
very comfortable, and there were delightful flowers to look at while 
they zipped along. 


It was around the same time that it leapt over the makeshift 
barricades that permeated Site-77's Euclid wing. If Gregory hadn't 
come along to help them when he did, they might've still been sitting 
pooped outside Walt's pad. 


Light leaned towards Gillespie, who had makeshift reins in her 
hands and Roget in her lap as she guided Gregory through the odds 
and ends of Site-77. "Did you find it?" 


Gillespie shook her head. "Not yet. But we're close. I'm sure this 
might've been before they moved it." 


Light watched the doors and rubble as it went by, in a blur. Gregory 
zipped past everything, responding to Gillespie's commands almost 
subconsciously. "You're good at this." 


Gillespie shrugged, handling the reins. "I've... we've done tests with 
1513 before." 


Light laughed. "No shit? You should've showed this to me before!" 


They took a hard left. Gillespie gripped the grassy neck. "| was 
going to... oh, heck." 


Bracing herself on handfuls of daffodils, Light scrunched her face as 
a the floor ripped itself apart, pulling the ground out from under 


them. Gregory stumbled over the remains of a wall, wrapping Light 
and Gillespie in flowery vines as it fell. Roget sailed through the wall 
altogether, landing out of sight. 


Between the vines, Light saw it coming towards them. It was the 
android— skinless, but very much intact— wearing earbuds, 
seemingly covered in softly vibrating sub-woofers. Its waxen head 
was deformed and coming off in chunks, revealing a gigantic 
speaker in place of a head. 


"SOPHIA LIGHT! We can work past YOUR attempt 
TO LIQUIDATE ASSET... It is PERHAPS times for 
you to give up MUCH MORE, SOPHIA LIGHT. WE 
CAN HELP." 


Light winced and covered her ears. "Should be slag... how the hell 
did it even find us?" She looked over to the bundle of vines lying 
next to her. 


Gillespie pulled the vines apart and stood up, her hand already 
throwing the small white box from her pocket. It skidded across the 
floor, coming to rest a fair ways from the android assailant. It 
watched as a couple of snowflakes emanated from the matchbox. 


The android threw its head back, and let out a deafening tone. 
"DRRRRRRRRRRRRRRARRARARARARRRRRRARRARARAARAARAAR 


Gillespie stumbled back, ears covered, into the bushy beast behind 
her. Thick leaves covered her up. 


The vines abandoned Light as Gregory pounced upon the android. 
There was a flurry of foliage as they struggled, with occasional 
piercing tones being muffled by leaves, and slashing metal tearing 
through the dampeners.