"Thanks again, Stephanie. Here's some extra money for the 


unexpected timing." 


"No worries Mr. Foxx. | had to study for a big final tomorrow anyhow. 
Good night." 


"Night." 


Foxx closed the door on the babysitter and turned into the kitchen 
for a glass of water. A strange shiver crawled up his back as he felt 
compelled to look at the kitchen window. Nothing but a view 
overlooking the quiet suburban street. 


He then looked across the way to see both Bridge and Dietrich fast 
asleep. Foxx shook his head, put the glass in the sink, and yawned. 
One last stop before his bedroom, he wanted to check on Lucille . 
Passing through the hallway, he noticed that the light in her room 
was still on. "Honey?" Foxx opened the door gently and peeked in. 


"Hi, Daddy." Lucille rubbed her eye and yawned as she placed a 
plastic kettle next to her books. 


"Lucille, it's very late for tea time." Foxx looked down to see cups for 
four. "Elsa, Anna, and Olaf will be around for your breakfast tea in 
the morning." Admittedly, he's seen Frozen far too many times to 
know the characters and songs by heart. He gathered the cups and 
put them next to the kettle. 


"No. Not Olaf, Daddy. | made a new friend." 
"Oh really?" Foxx picked her up and tucked her into bed. 


"He's black and fuzzy and wears a mask and likes to make shadow 
puppets and and he—" 


"Alright. Hush now. Time to sleep. Tell your new friend to sleep too. 
Foxx tucked her in snuggly. 


"He left already." 


"Well I'm sure he has things to take care of. Maybe you will see him 
in the morning, hm?" 


Lucille rolled over to the side of the bed facing the night light. "But | 
don't know if he likes pancakes." 


"We don't have to have pancakes if you don't want to." He smiled. 
"We'll just ask him what he wants for breakfast in the morning then. 
Okay?" 


"Okay. Goodnight, Daddy." 


Foxx smiled and closed her door, leaving just a small crack open, 
then went to bed himself. 


"DEE!" Betty squeezed her son as hard as she could. 


"Ma, please!" Dietrich squeezed past the door frame and 
shuffled inside, mother still attached. 


"Howdy, Dee. We cooked yer favorite. Open face roast 
beef sandwich." Jeff then lurched out of his chair towards 
the dining room. The old man pulled a chair out for his 
wife to sit next to him, then sat down himself. 


Before Betty could even think of sitting down, she 
hustled up the stairs, down the hall, and through the first 
door on the right to retrieve one more person. What 
followed were the slow and steady footfalls of Dietrich's 
deaf older brother, Bertrand. 


Why a simple country couple insisted on naming their 
offspring with Old German first names coupled with a 
proud Scottish family surname, Dietrich would never 
know. He also forgot why he was back home in the first 
place. 


He looked at the wall to see blurry photographs of their 
relatives living in the old country. He used to love hearing 
about fairy tales from Granddaddy Murdoch. But that 
was very long ago when him and Bertrand were waist- 
high. 


The whole Lurk family sat down and laughed and talked 


of older times. Funnier times. Even some strange times. 
Dietrich signed to Bertrand who was looking a bit worn 
for wear. 


SICK-BIG-BROTHER 
Bertrand shook his head and signed back. 
NO-TIRED 
BAD-SLEEP 


Bertrand's phone vibrated loudly, but nobody seemed to 
care much... except Bertrand who struggled to get his 
phone out of his pocket and then stare at the text 
message. Dietrich cocked his head a bit as he chewed 
his meal. 


WHO-IS-THAT 
YOUR-BOSS 


Bertrand signed nothing back and shuffled outside with 
slow hollow footsteps. Dietrich sat puzzled and looked at 
the fuzzy faces of his parents. 


"...What's wrong with Bert?" 


Dietrich woke himself up and rubbed his face trying to dismiss a 
weird dream. The smell of eggs and coffee were a good distraction. 
He rolled out and made several cracking noises as he rose up from 
the hard floor. 


"Morning, Dietrich." Bridge was chewing on a bagel looking dressed 
and ready for the day while sitting in front of his laptop. He was 
preoccupied with monitoring Alexandra decrypt the flash drive. 
Dietrich groggily lurched for a chair and sat. Across from him was a 
six year old girl with messy brown hair wearing Frozen pajamas. He 
watched her almost zombified as she feverishly scribbled with a 
black crayon on paper. 


Observation Log 709 


Record of observations made from SCP-709 


Please include your name, the date and initial time of observation, 
and the length of time spent observing. 


Name: Agent Talmor 

Date: 04/01/2009 

Time: 23:15 approx. 

Duration: 20 minutes approx. 

Observed: A family of raccoons playing in the snow, wearing 
mittens and boots. They made and threw snowballs, built a snow 
raccoon, and otherwise engaged in normal winter play. 


Name: Agent Thompson 

Date: 06/01/2009 

Time: 19:30 

Duration: 23 minutes 

Observed: Several species of wildlife including: bears, deer, 
wolves, birds, sheep, raccoons and squirrels (all of which were 
bipedal) engaged in warfare, using current day automatic weapons 
and several futuristic laser cannons. 


Name: Dr. 

Date: 01/08/ 

Time: 12:00 
Duration: 30 minutes 
Observed: 


1. Large tree-like being which moved a total of four feet during 
observation. Appeared to wave "branches" several times, and 
[DATA EXPUNGED]. 

2. A large viper-like lizard, with gliding wings that appear to be 
part of the rib cage. 

3. A small family of grizzly bears, which appear to have tongues 
similar to those of the chameleon, as well a second set of 


"Dietrich!?" 
"Huh, what?" 
Foxx squinted his eyes at him. "I said, how do you like your eggs?" 


Dietrich ran his fingers through his hair and straightened his shirt a 
bit. "Oh uh, over-easy... runny yolks if'n you can manage." 


"Ew," Lucille commented. 


Foxx cracked two eggs into a skillet. "Lucille that's not nice. Some 
people just like it that way." 


Lucille looked up from her drawing. "But gooey eggs look like 
boogies." 


"Lucille. We don't say gross things at the table." Foxx planted her 
fork into clump of scrambled egg and put it in her other hand. 
"C'mon, less drawing more eating.” 


"This one yours, Foxx?" Dietrich poured himself a cup of coffee. He 
could tell that Foxx used the European brands just by smell alone. 


"Hm? No. | just found her outside this morning. Must be a stray." 


Lucille giggled as Foxx straightened a few strands of messy hair. 
"Yeah. Lucille, this is Mister Lurk. Can you say, Hi?" Lucille smiled 
and waved. Dietrich nodded back. 


"| like the way you talk. You talk like the tow truck in my Cars 
movie." 


Bridge managed to not choke on his bagel in the background. 
Dietrich just smiled. "Where | comes from, e'ryone talks purty much 
like this, lil’ lady." He made sure to add on an extra layer of twang for 
her. Foxx slid a plate of eggs in front of him. Dietrich reached over 
for the pepper to sprinkle some on. Foxx sat down with his own plate 
of food and looked over at Lucille's paper. 


"What's this?" 


"That's me. That's my new friend. And that's our house. Can we put 
it on the fridge?" 


"We sure can." 


He slid the paper towards him and stuck it to the fridge with a 

magnet. Foxx also made a mental note to have a chat with the 
babysitter about what kind of shows Lucille is watching before 
bedtime. 


Dietrich went pale and ejected coffee out of his mouth and nostrils, 
covering the front of his shirt and plated eggs. 


"We don't spit at the table," Lucille corrected him. 
Foxx actually got up and approached him. "Woah! You alright?" 


Bridge, however, was frozen in place. He had an extensive 
knowledge of the SCP mainlist, with a specialization in the Euclid 
class. In two and a half seconds he connected the dots between 
Dietrich's behaviour, Lucille's drawing, and a particular image file 
recovered from a cell phone a while back. The pieces clicked 
together in his head - why Dietrich was always, a/ways looking at his 
reflection, why he talked to himself, why he stayed under the radar 
for so long, what the hell Merle is. 


"It's fucking fourteen-seventy-one," Bridge breathed, his eyes turning 
to Deitrich. 


"Oooh! Daddy! He said a bad TV word!" shouted Lucille. 


"Language! What's wrong with you two?" Foxx barked as he lifted up 
the oven mitt in preparation for a throw. Then he lowered it again, 
slowly. 


"Bridge? What did you just say?" 


Up To No Good 


Foxx pressed play on the Blu-ray player and the iconic Disney castle 
appeared followed by the intro to Frozen, the sing-a-long edition. 


"Can | sing loud this time?" Lucille asked as she slid on her Dad's 
BOSE headphones. 


"If you want to, sure. | just have to talk with Mr. Lurk and Mr. Bridge. 
You good?" Foxx fluffed a couch pillow for her as she leaned back 
and nodded. "Good. And uh— honey? You don't see... Mr. Fuzzy do 
you?" 


Merle in the corner of the room shook his head 'NO' vigorously. 
Lucille looked at him for a good second and lied as fast as her 7 
year old brain would allow. 


"Um... nope!" 


"Okay then. I'll be back in a bit." Foxx looked at the empty corner of 
the room, sighed, then headed into the garage. 


"Foxx! You gotta believe me. | didn't— she didn't—" Dietrich was 
desperately trying to explain a reason he didn't even understand. 
Bridge leaned against tool bench trying to find the words, or really 
how to follow protocol after this point. 


"Dietrich, calm." Foxx said reassuringly. "Can | call you Dee? As 
Bridge explained, it's a harmless thing and will probably just leave, 
when you leave. Alright?" 


Dietrich took a long breath and rubbed his sweaty face. "Yeah. I'm 
sure that's wha— HORK!!!" 


In one swift half-second motion Foxx pulled out an 8 inch stiletto 
knife and with almost surgical precision, pushed 6 inches of it past 


Dietrich's gag reflex. Foxx's other hand squeezed tightly around his 
windpipe clenching harder and harder. 


HACK 


Bridge quickly stumbled over. "Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa! Foxx! 
Stop! What the hell?!" 


Foxx pressed the knife further down the throat. "Stop? He's 
compromised. He's just paperwork at this point. Just a lift and a twist 
to sever the base of his skull. It'll be real fast. More than what he 
deserves." 


GURGLE 


Dietrich flailed helplessly as his eyes teared up and his skin turned a 
deeper shade of red. Bridge approached carefully, "Uh, no. Listen. 
We still need him. You need him. | looked at the flash drive Clef 
gave us. There's bigger things in there. Things that are more than 
you and me can handle by ourselves." 


"Bullshit. | don't care. | can handle things myself." Foxx's knife gently 
sliced the inside of Dietrich's cheek as he struggled to keep a grip. 
Dietrich could only continue to make horrible choking sounds while 
trying to breathe. 


"Yeah, no, | know what I'm talking about. Let him go, I'll deal with 
him afterwards. | can fix this." 


"| want your word Bridge. | want your fucking word on a gold platter 
served with caviar that you will make this right. Because | give no 
fucks about killing either of you." 


J) Do you want to build a snowmaaaan?! J) 
J) Come on let's go and plaaaaay! 1) 


Ignoring Lucille's singing in the next room, Bridge looked into Foxx's 
eyes. Eyes that had seen men die badly. Eyes that had seen more 
evil than Bridge cared to even be aware of. 


"| understand. Now drop him, please." 


Foxx closed his eyes and paused for a moment. Then very quickly, 
unsheathed his dagger from Dee's throat. 


COUGHING 


"Ffffugh... Thanks for listening." Bridge relaxed his shoulders as 
Foxx walked by him. Bridge was a little too distracted to react when 
Foxx swiped his taser from his hip. Without looking, Foxx walked 
back into the house and tazed Dee. 


"G-g-goddamnit!" Dee dropped like a sandbag onto the hard 
concrete floor. 


All three of them sat, awkward, around the kitchen table. Foxx gave 
a death stare at Dee, Dee rubbed his sore throat, and Bridge typed 
at his keyboard ready to start an impromptu briefing. 


“Alright Alex, go over what you found on the drive." 
Bridge swiveled the laptop around so Lurk and Foxx could see. 


«So... very interesting intel on what has been gathered on General 
Bowe. Specifically those related to him and what they've been 
doing. However, these files are... well scattered. For sure, | can tell 
that at least some of this intel has been lifted off the Site-19 
servers.» 


Bridge tightened his grip a little. "And also off the Ssite-66 
servers. Least someone's using them, right?" He glanced at Dee 
who was still rubbing his sore windpipe. "Show them the other thing, 
Alex." 


«Yes... a lot of this intel is really REALLY encrypted. | thought it was 
corrupted at first but there's a lot more here that | can't access.» 


Dee tilted his head. "What do you mean you can't crack it? It's 
Foundation encrypted." 


«Yes, but this data has Gershwin-Laramie cipher algorithms. That's 
anti-Al ciphers developed for human-only privileged information.» 


Dee pursed his lips and leaned towards Alex's avatar on the screen. 
"Okay, so how do we read the documents?" 


"You can't," muttered Bridge. "You'd need a Gershwin-Laramie 
decryption device. That's all newer Foundation tech developed by 
the AIAD. And the only ones | know of that we could even pretend 
are easily accessible were in Site-19." 


"So?" Foxx finally focused on Bridge. "Can't you get access to one 
on site?" 


"No, nononono, it's not that easy," Bridge shook his head and gave 
an uneasy chuckle, with a too-toothy grin. "You're thinking about the 
current Site-19. I'm thinking about the old Site-19." 


"Old Site-19?" 

"Alex. Pull up the layout of Site-19 with the classified layers." 
«Sir. They don't have clearance to—» 

"They don't, | do. I'm giving them clearance. Show them." 


Alex shrugged and pulled up a diagram of the entirety of Site-19. 
Nothing new honestly. There were containment wings, labs, offices, 
break rooms, a weapons armory, etc. Bridge pointed to what looked 
like a shaft extending down underground and then cutting off some 
hundred feet. 


"Now, load up the rest." 


Suddenly the screen zoomed out and panned down to reveal an 
entire installation under it. Just as complex and as vast as above. 
Several access shafts seemed to stretch down from the surface but 
they all seemed to be cut off. 


"This is the old Site-19. The one that got nuked." 


Dee rubbed his temples, trying to process this. "So you mean to tell 
me... they done built Site-19... on top of Site-19?" 


Bridge nodded, twitching a little, cracking his neck. "What I'm about 


to tell you is waaay the fuck above your clearance level. The current 
Site-19 installation is partially responsible for containing the 
dilapidated Site-19 installation. After the blast, many anomalies were 
lost, but some... well... some just up and broke. For lack of a better 
word." 


"Broke?" Foxx got up for a coffee and to check on his daughter in 
the living room around the corner. She was still preoccupied with her 
movie as far as he could tell. But if he could see, he'd see a looming 
figure sitting next to her preoccupied with the movie as well. 


"That's Elsa." Lucille explained to the invisible space next to her. 
"She's not a bad guy." Then she whispered, "It's actually the prince.” 


Foxx pinched the bridge of his nose and suppressed the anger 
inside his gut. He knew he needed to get this Lurk fucker away from 
his daughter before that thing decided to make a home here. 


Bridge continued to talk even though he wasn't sure Foxx was 
listening. "Let's just say old Site-19 was destroyed, and what was 
left just became an unstable mess. So they buried it and built a lid 
on top." 


He and Dee waited patiently, and Foxx eventually walked back over, 
coffee in hand. "So what are you suggesting?"