“We don’t. They get collected at the end of the month by cleaners. 
Well, what's left of them.” 


“Oh.” 


| had the same experience with the next thirty cells as | did with 

room 474. However, halfway through the process a bloodcurdling 
screech echoed through the block from an unknown source. | was 
scared shitless, but Marta shrugged it off. She was used to it in all 
the years she had worked here. | realized this job was going to be 


far more terrifying when | was doing it by myself. 


“Now, this final room is a little different,” she warned me. “It used to 
be a security office, but before block four was finished last year the 
Foundation was running low on space so they renovated this office 
and changed it into a cell.” 


“So how does that affect the serving process?” 
“You have to go into the room.” 


My heart skipped a beat. No. There was no way in hell | was going 
to do that. 


Marta saw the anxiety spreading across my face. 


“Don’t worry, this thing’s harmless providing you’re a good fairy and 
don’t kiss it,” she said in a mocking manner followed by a chuckle. 


Oh my god, | haven't been called a fairy since junior high, | realized. 
| was a little taken back by her slur, but | decided to excuse it due to 
the fact that she was old and old people talked that way — my 
relatives were much worse. 


“Excuse you,” | scoffed. “What makes you think I’m gay?” 


“| saw the picture of your boyfriend when you were fumbling around 
with your phone,” she said smugly. 


As much as | wish Ryan Gosling was my boyfriend, he is not, | 
thought, but didn’t say because there was no use opposing her 
claim. She was old and would be gone by week’s end. But seriously, 
| doubt there’s anything in this block I'd want to touch even with a 
ten foot pole. 


When we reached room 217 Marta briefed me about the different 
procedure that went with this room. 


“So with this one there’s a red line down the middle of the room with 
a red square coming off of it. Do not step over this line. Just slide the 
tray into the red square and then go.” 


That sounded simple enough, but | was still worried about what was 
waiting for me in this room. 


| waved my key card over the sensor to unlock the door. Taking a 
deep breath, | opened it and stepped in with the tray. 


To my surprise, there was no psychotic monster waiting to tear off 
my flesh and drink my blood. There were only five things in the 
poorly-lit rectangular room. A metal-framed cot, toilet, sink, neatly 
stacked food trays in the corner and a pale boy curled up on the 
bed. He sat up instantly with a petrified look on his face as if he was 
expecting someone else. 


My god, | thought while gasping. This kid is young. He didn’t even 
look old enough to start growing facial hair — or because he was 
blonde his stubble was invisible. What disturbed me most was the 
shackle around his left ankle that was attached to the wall. It kept 
him from being able to go past the red line. 


“Hello,” he said politely even though he sounded quite scared. 


“Hi,” | replied awkwardly. “I’m, um, just here to give you this,” | stated 
while gesturing to the tray in my hand. 


He nodded with a smile. After placing the tray in the red square | 
stepped back. He hopped off his bed quite quickly and crawled over 
to the tray — he would not be able reach the tray if he was standing 
due to the chain. | noted how skinny he was. His grey jumpsuit was 
pretty baggy on him even though it was pretty small. The kid had to 
have no fat or muscle on his limbs. 


One meal a day isn’t enough for a growing kid. Hell, when | was his 
age | would go through eight whole meals. 


| heard a “thank you” as | turned to leave. Looking back, | saw that 
he was smiling up at me. 


“What’s your name?” he asked. 


| had to think for a moment. Would it be right to tell a kid locked up in 
a Foundation containment block my name? 


First name can’t hurt. 
“Jay,” | replied. “Yours?” 
“Danny.” 


“Nice to meet you, Danny. We'll probably be seeing a lot of each 
other,” | said in a semi-joking manner. 


He looked confused. 

“What happened to Marta?” 

“She’s retiring.” 

“Aw. Good for her.” 

| nodded before swiping my key card over the sensor to leave. 
“See ya tomorrow,” | said awkwardly. 

“Bye.” 


| slipped through the door and quickly closed the door. | was not 
prepared for that. | had not expected to see a poor kid being treated 
like an animal. What the fuck had he done to get himself in trouble 
with the Foundation? 


“I can’t do this,” | said more to myself than to Marta. “That kid is too 
young to be in this place.” 


Marta shook her head. 
“If he’s in here, he’s in here for a good enough reason.” 


“| don’t know what he could do that would land someone his age in 
here.” 


“Whatever he did... or whatever he is, that’s not your problem. You 
just have to feed him and avoid kissing him.” 


Okay, what am | doing that makes her think I’m going to fuck 
anything with a penis? | thought with a displeased expression. 


“I’m honestly surprised seeing lil’ Danny hit you so hard,” she stated 
while we were in the elevator. “After all, you were working in the 
human test subject area. Didn't seeing all those people and knowing 
what was going to happen to them make you feel strange?” 


| stared at her blankly. She sighed. It was clear | had no idea what 
she was talking about. 


“Seriously, you never figured out what was going on over there?” 


“People sign up to be tested on and once they’re done they leave, 
right?” 


Marta laughed pretty hard at that. Clearly | was completely wrong 
about the Foundation. 


“Let them leave? I'll be surprised if they really let me retire,” she 
muttered. “If | conveniently die due to ‘mysterious circumstances’ 
you'll know why. You don’t get to leave if you know too much.” 


Now | was really unsettled. 
“You suggesting | shouldn't start thinking about my retirement plan?” 
“Hell no.” 


“Then why the fuck am | taking this job if they’re going to kill me for 
it?” 


“They rely on people as stupid as you to do the basic blue-collar 
work. They know you don’t have a clue about what’s going on here 


aed) 


and they know you won't see it coming when you ‘retire’. 


“Can | quit now and have a clean escape?” | asked anxiously. This 
situation had felt so surreal for the past hour that | wasn't properly 
processing what she was saying. 


“No. It’s too late. Just stick it out and hope you get forty years under 
your belt. Who knows? Maybe they'll let you go at the end of all 
this.” 


That wasn't reassuring at all. 


“So if you’re so sure they’re gonna kill you when you retire... why 
are you retiring?” 


She shrugged. 


“I’ve lead a decent life. All | ask is that they take me out in the most 
humane way possible.” 


| ran my fingers through my hair. | was either in some pretty deep 
shit or this woman was batshit insane — both seemed equally 
plausible. 


“Can | run?” | asked quietly in case there were any security cameras 
that had sound. 


“Probably not,” she said quite passively. “The Foundation has ties to 
basically every government in the world. They'll find you no matter 
how far you run. Your safest option is to play along for a few years. 
They might let you leave if you gain their trust.” 


“Do you have the Foundation’s trust?” 


“Nope,” she said followed by chuckle. “You probably don’t believe 
me, but | was actually more of a rebel in my youth. The only reason 
I've survived this long is because God’s got an angel working 
overtime to keep me safe.” 


Her voice was drowned out as | thought over everything. 


Be real, she’s an insane old lady just trying to make you paranoid. 
There’s no way they’d kill the random guy who just does the 
catering. 


| was about to ask her another question when she put her hand up 
as a gesture to tell me to shut up. We had reached the doors and it 
wouldn't be wise to continue this conversation among others. 


“Three more days,” the receptionist reminded Marta in a cheerful 
manner. “What are you going to do first once you’re retired?” 


Marta shrugged. 


“Order fast food. | haven’t had it since 1963.” 


The receptionist laughed before pulling out the plastic box. | grabbed 
my iPhone out of it before following Marta to the kitchen to return the 
Cart. 


“Same time tomorrow,” she said casually. | found that ridiculous 
seeing as she had just been telling me about how she was probably 
going to be killed. 


“Uh, yeah,” | agreed. 


Her hand landed on my shoulder. That was quite a reach for her 
based on the height difference. 


“Don't lose sleep over it, Jay. By the time you’re my age things will 
probably have changed and you'll get to retire properly.” 


There wasn’t much she could say now to make me feel better. | just 
had to keep telling myself that she was a crazy old lady who was 


lying. 


“How long has it been since you last left this place?” | asked. It 
seemed weird that she had not eaten any fast food since 1963 — 
unless she had been joking about that. 


“It’s been a Jong time,” she said with a smile as she ran through the 
memories of the out-of-doors in her head. 


She returned to reality pretty swiftly. Then with a quick wave, she 
was gone. 


| was back in my room half an hour later. Usually after work I’d go to 
the on-site bar with my friends from my previous job. They had all 
been happy for me about my promotion. A few of them had even 
been jealous — now | was beginning to think they had nothing to be 
envious of. 


| didn’t get much sleep that night. Partly due to the things Marta had 
told me and partly due to the nightmares | kept having about the 
creatures locked away in block three. 


electrical and computer systems, are subject to significantly more 
severe and dangerous symptoms than non-hybrid vehicles. 


« SCP-940 | SCP-941 | SCP-942 » 


What have | gotten myself into? 


Surprisingly, the next three days were rather uneventful despite the 
news Marta had dumped on me. When just went through the 
motions of serving all the cells. | still found it difficult to serve Danny 
because he looked so out of place in this hellhole. Every time | saw 
him | was on the verge of trying to start a conversation with him, but 
Marta would always bang on the door and tell me to hurry up if | took 
too long. It was clear to me that she didn’t want me to try and mingle 
with him. | found it hard to leave him. He looked so sad every time | 
turned to go. 


Marta did not have much enthusiasm after she finished her final shift 
ever finished. | assumed that was because she was under the 
impression that she was going to die — whether or not she was 
correct was anyone’s guess. 


“Thanks for showing me the ropes,” | said with a smile while shaking 
her hand. 


She looked very out of place in normal clothing while everyone else 
was in uniform. It had been quite a while since | had seen people 
dressed casually here. 


“Good luck, Jay.” She squeezed my hand. “I really mean it.” 


| carried her duffle bag for her out to the vehicle. It would be rude to 
not help an elderly lady with her bag. The car’s windows were 
almost completely black. | went to open the trunk, but the chauffer 
quickly stepped out and grabbed the duffle bag from me. The guy 
looked like the freaking Terminator with his sunglasses and 
masculine physique. 


Shit, this is no regular chauffeur. | realized. No, stop freaking out. 
You're just being paranoid. 


Watching the car drive off through the tunnel out of the parking lot, | 
couldn't shake the feeling that Marta hadn't been kidding. That guy 

was going to take her out to a field, shoot her in the head and then 

hide the body. 


This is so fucked up. 


After another sleepless night, it was finally time for me to do the 
meal run without Marta — who | suspected was dead by now. 


“Try to relax,” the receptionist, who was now someone different, told 
me as | stopped by with the cart. “The things in there can smell 
fear.” 


The sound of the doors closing behind me echoed through the 
whole block. | didn’t see how | was ever going to get used to this 
place. It was so unsettling. 


What would happen if there was a power out? 
| cursed myself instantly for putting that thought in my head. 


| tried to go through all the motions as quickly as possible. However, 
that led me to fumble and nearly drop a tray. 


The receptionist was right about the whole fear-smelling thing. | 
heard an ungodly hissing sound coming from room 349 when | 
opened the tray port. This is why | went to the restroom before my 
shift — | wanted to avoid shitting myself. 


It’s nearly over, | reminded myself as | pushed the cart towards room 
217. And this final guy is harmless. 


As per usual, Danny looked quite scared when the door opened, but 
he calmed down when he realised it was just me. 


“Who do you keep expecting to show up at the same time every 
day?” | asked in a joking manner as | placed the tray in the red 
square. 


He laughed hesitantly. 


“Uh, sorry, | don’t really know what time it is so I’m not sure who’s 
going to arrive when,” he explained in a timid manner. 


| stood back up, but didn't turn to leave. | wasn't under as pressure 
to get out now that Marta wasn't demanding | hurried up. 


“Who else shows up here?” | asked in a concerned manner. He was 
only fed once a day so who else was coming down? 


“The scientist guys,” he said in a tone that suggested great fear. 
“What scientists?” 


“The ones who think I’m something I’m not,” he choked out. His eyes 
were a little watery now. “T-they think there’s some sort of... thing in 
my body and they’re trying to run tests on it. They don’t believe I’m 
who | say | am and | don’t know why. ” He lifted his blonde fringe to 
show a clean scar tracing his scalp and hiding behind his ears. 
“They ripped my fucking scalp off a-and drilled into my skull. | was 
awake for that!” 


“Jesus Christ,” | muttered. “They can’t do that to you. They can’t 
torture a kid. That’s just fucked up.” | dragged my hands down my 
face. “You’re just a kid. You’re fourteenish, right? That’s just so 
wrong.” 


Danny stared blankly at me. 
“Actually, err, I’m eighteen.” 


Despite everything, | was actually quite shocked by that revelation. | 
wouldn't have been surprised if he was in block three due to the fact 
his physical age was frozen at fourteen. 


“Wow,” | stated dumbly. “Danny, I’m so sorry. | really wish | could 
help you get out of here, but | can’t. Hell, | don’t think I'll be able to 
get myself out here.” He nodded in understanding. “However, | want 
to try and make this all a little more endurable for you. You seem like 
a sweet kid.” 


“Sweet adult,” he objected in a joking manner — | was amazed he 
had a sense of humor based on the circumstances. 


“Yeah,” | agreed. “So if there are things you want which | can get for 
you without getting in trouble then just ask.” He nodded with a little 
smile forming on his face. “And I'll try to sneak you some extra food.” 
| gestured to the tray. “That’s just bullshit right there. That’s barely a 
snack.” 


“Thank you,” he said softly before picking up the plastic cup and 
holding it up to the shitty 70s light bulb dangling above us. 
“Sometimes they put drugs in it,” he explained as he examined it 
under the light. He took a sip after coming to the conclusion it was 
clean. 


| don’t think I’ve ever felt this bad for someone in my entire life, | 
thought while watching him very slowly eat the mashed potatoes. 
He’s eating slowly so that he tricks his stomach into thinking it’s had 
enough, | concluded. 


“Anything else you need?” | asked. It was awkward to just sit here 
and watch him eat. 


He quickly looked up, there was a sad look in his eyes when he 
realised | was preparing to leave. 


“C-could you tell me about your life?” he asked desperately.