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Yesterday, 09:46 PM
You open the 'personal item' box.
Inside is
a
stuffed toy.
You recognize the species it's based on immediately;
a type of blind, aquatic cave salamander.
But upon closer inspection,
it's got varying textures across it; the back and tail are somewhat bumpy, while the sides, underside, and face are squishy and soft, with a sort of rubbery texture for the frills.
Some part of this
very slightly bothers you.
No part of them is bumpy, and why wouldn't the frills have a more feather-like texture instead?
But,
this is a toy, and clearly not made to be anatomically accurate.
It isn't a big deal at all.
The far more important issue, anyway,
is that:
You would not have picked this.
Plush or not, this is a fidget toy, especially given that it's essentially small enough to fit in a pocket - though, it would need to be a rather large pocket.
You can't exactly use something like this, given your wrist problems.
And you wouldn't really order something like this to sit on your desk, either.
Plushes have never been much your thing, since
th h
n .
And, this is clearly a toy.
You'd feel self-conscious about picking this kind of thing when your coworkers, or your boss, or whoever handles the orders would know about it.
You still feel that way, even if you really feel like You didn't choose this.
Maybe
The options are always very limited
...you think. Your memory has been fuzzy, lately.
Maybe this really was, somehow, the best option available at the time?
Or, more likely, you misinterpreted whatever this option happened to be.
Maybe it just said 'SALAMANDER' and you guessed wrong at what it would be.
Or,
most likely,
they just sent you something you didn't choose.
It isn't as if you'll ever get an explanation, and you don't see the point in including this detail in the report.
Oh well.
You rotate the little thing in your hands.
A sticker on its underside commands 'SQUEEZE ME!'
You do not do this.
You debate leaving it here, in the delivery bay,
but you don't really want to end up seeing it on the security cam and doing a double-take.
Plus, something about doing that would make you
sad.
Abandoned toys, and all that.
You can't have it on your desk, as you'll be tempted to mess with it while working and you don't want to risk unnecessary pain,
and you don't want it in your bedroom; you feel like it'd creep you out at night, somehow.
Kitchen?
No, it'd just get in the way and get dirty.
Windowsill in the restroom?
Moisture would accumulate during showers. You don't want to make it moldy.
The couch.
It can just sit on one of the armrests.
Somewhere you won't end up staring at it, and won't be too inclined to mess with it, either.
That works.
You toss it into one of the supply bags and head back to the station.
By the time you've gotten all the supplies put away and organized, your hour is almost up.
Not only that, but the lack of sleep is really starting to hit you.
You push through it.
Just need to last until your shift ended.
You spin in your work chair, glancing over at the salamander on the couch's armrest.
From this distance, it does look less like a toy and more like a small, decorative pillow, or something.
Maybe you could stand to decorate a little more in general. Though, you'd rather get something practical for your weekly personal item.
Something to consider, at least.
You check off the task box.
11:15 AM - 12:00 PM: LUNCH BREAK
You still haven't eaten anything.
You still don't feel hungry.
Probably about time to force yourself, though.
You make your way into the kitchen/dining area and begin checking through the fridge and cabinets.
You just got fresh vegetables, meat, and they were even nice enough to actually let you have some spices, this time around.
But, you don't really have the energy to cook any of that.
You're getting to the point where you can feel your eyes trying to close.
With a sigh, you pull some spinach leaves out of the package and munch them down.
You debate taking a bite of one of the carrots, but the thought of raw carrot texture in your mouth makes you gag a little.
Vegetables done. Whatever.
You're better off clearing out the older food, anyway.
In the back of the freezer, you find a microwave meal; noodles, mushrooms, something or other. Fine.
You pull it out and examine the package.
Aren't these things meant to last for months?
How is this one expired by a week already?
They must be just putting up things they don't want as options; nearly expired or maybe not-so-fresh food.
It's
likely fine.
It's only a 'best by' date, it's only a week out, and you really, really hate to waste food, if you can help it.
You don't want to run out when you need it.
In a few seconds, it's in the microwave, with its various included packets strewn about the counter.
You re-read the instructions multiple times, including having to fish it from the trash can after throwing it away too early.
They're very simple instructions, but you keep somehow reading them and either not parsing them as language, or immediately forgetting what they say.
Maybe you're just that tired.
The microwave dings soon enough, and you follow the instructions before putting the
The microwave dings again.
You retrieve your meal, stirring it as you walk back into the work room and sit gently on the couch,
careful not to spill your garbage meal on yourself.
'Garbage meal' is more apt than you would ever want it to be.
You like mushrooms. What did they do to these?
Is it really just that expired? How?
You can hardly stomach this.
You wolf it down, regardless, forcing the food into your mouth in an effort to get it out of the way quicker.
It's done.
You finished it.
You toss what's left in the trash with gusto.
At least the ordeal is over.
There's still a few minutes left on your lunch break.
You're too tired to do much.
You pick out some movie and pop it in the player for later.
You spend the rest of your lunch break essentially staring at the wall.
It's eventually over, and you check off your lunch break.
12:00 PM - 3:00 PM: EXPEDITION (DRONE)
You've
been dreading this.
You did a good enough job keeping your mind occupied.
But now that it's Time again, all the worry is back, too.
At least you don't have to do it yourself this time.
You can just
do a quick one.
It doesn't require anything in specific of you,
and expeditions were sometimes shorter or longer than the allotted time.
The worst that happens is your employer docks a little bit of your pay when you actually make it back.
You could worry about that then; who cares.
You pinch your leg, trying to get yourself to move.
You open the drone control program.
You select the one at the gate.
It activates, and soon enough, you're seeing through its camera.
The controls were mostly simple enough; a bit like a game,
though the drone's movements were usually slower and weightier, especially the turning of its head.
There's a text box on the side where you can type in commands, too.
Usually this was easier for certain actions, especially ones that required dexterity, like interacting with objects.
With the drone awake,
you walk it to the main portion of the room.
The gate stands before it.
A huge, rectangular frame - at least ten feet tall and thirty feet wide - containing what looked to be iridescent sheets of glass in the center.
'ACTIVATE GATE', you type in.
With an ease of movement you couldn't replicate using the controls,
the drone pulling several switches on the console in front of the gate,
before pressing its hand on the button, holding it down for a few seconds.
The 'glass' glows brighter.
Bright, colored sparks shoot across the translucent panels like falling stars.
The panels
jut backwards improbably, one after another.
They extend out within the gate like telescopic lenses;
the gate's total dimensions becoming physically impossible.
Before
it all seems to collapse in on itself,
each sparking lens pulling back inward
with the sound of numerous closing doors.
Until a solid, concrete wall is all that remains where the panels had once been.
At their center
at the bottom
is a single, bright red, metal door.
It has a bar blocking it.
A dull hum buzzes in the air, now.
Sound from the powered gate.
'ENTER'.
The drone steps forward.
It removes the bar
placing it away
Then, it
Then, the other body steps inside.
A labyrinth of concrete extends before you.
Hallways,
tunnels,
and all manner of blank doorways-
painted-on spaces where doors would occasionally appear;
all of it is common.
You've seen this before.
Though, the concrete is new.
You want to make this quick.
You're very tired, still.
And an expedition is not the time to be exhausted.
You stop at the first real doorway you spot;
an average-looking, if rather heavy, wooden door with a plain, silver doorknob.
You guide the other body to turn the knob cautiously,
and peek your camera inside.
It's
a wide, dark hallway inside.
You adjust your camera.
There are many lockers along the hallway,
and various paper signs hung here and there.
You can see more doors at the back wall, which looks to be another hallway.
A school. At night.
This is startlingly specific to you.
Usually these spaces are more abstract.
Even watching through the screen, you hate looking at this place.
Make it a fast trip.
In, out.
Maybe you could just do one room.
Then you can leave.
You guide yourself to the closest classroom,
taking time to peek around the corner into the new hallway.
There's a red exit sign at the far end, where you can't see very well.
There does appear to be the school's library nearby, but one of the book carts is overturned, its books spilled out onto the floor.
You don't want to think about why it's like that.
You aren't going to.
As quietly as you can manage, you open the classroom door and walk inside, shutting and locking the door behind you.
You walk around the room, checking every nook and cranny that might house something to potentially attack you.
There's nothing in here, really.
Nothing malicious, that you can tell, anyway.
There's a tall, slim window in the corner, with a curtain pulled most of the way down.
You crouch down.
With a gentle pull, you tug it upwards and look outside.
A long, freshly-trimmed field extends out from the side of the school.
Or
maybe it isn't trimmed, on second glance.
The grass is thin, and most of it is yellow and dead, with only the occasional patch of green.
There are a few spots where the grass is gone completely, only dirt remaining.
Maybe the kids would
play sports there.
Or something.
You gaze out further, your curiosity not quite sated.
There are no other buildings, but you can see a road of cracked asphalt, and what look to be train tracks far, far ahead.
At the very back, though, to your side, you spot a dense mass of trees. A small forest, maybe. You aren't really sure.
Gazing out into them feels
horrible, somehow.
You don't want to look out the window anymore.
You pull your head back and pull the curtain all the way down to the bottom.
You want this over with.
Noticing the computer at the teacher's desk, you make your way over to it, bumping into the desk on your way.
The space is a bit tight for the other body to fit.
You manage it, leaning down to the computer.
It's plugged in, but doesn't seem to turn on.
Less work for you, at least.
Needing something to bring back with you,
you retrieve a nearby pen, a paper schedule, and a pair of scissors,
placing all of them in the small storage bag attached your front.
Easy enough.
As you turn to leave, you notice the projector plugged in at the front of the room.
Curious,
you walk your way over, peering at it.
You press the button to turn it on.
Light flashes directly into your camera,
playing
something.
You try to turn the drone quickly and scoot out of the way to see what exactly it's projecting,
but the drone is sluggish; as if it's stunned by the bright light shining into its camera.
By the time you've managed to steer it out of the way,
the projector has shut off.
You can't get it to turn on again.
You really wish you got a look at it.
You'd rather know what it was than not.
Now you're just going to be imagining it when you're trying to sleep tonight.
You've got enough nightmares as it is.
Oh well.
Time to leave.
You unlock the classroom door and take a step out into the hallway,
only to pull yourself back.
On the floor,
directly in front of the classroom you were just inside of,
is a torn scrap of paper.
You are
100% certain
it wasn't there before.
You reach down
and pick it up.
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You
know you need to take this.
You don't want to, but it's necessary.
This is your job.
You stow it in the smallest storage bag; the one on your side.
You can't stop looking around in the nearby hallways.
Checking.
You
are leaving.
You're leaving.
You're going right now.
Done Done. Done.
Your mad dash through the school hallway and the concrete labyrinth feels much longer than it is.
You practically burst your way back through the red door,
slamming the bar back into place.
The gate is deactivated.
You nearly repeat the command again,
aiming the drone's camera at the gate,
as you watch the process from before repeat, in reverse.
It's back to its usual state soon enough,
the dull hum it emitted disappearing as it powers off.
You nearly shut off the drone control program, before remembering what you brought back.
You pull yourself back over to the far wall,
into a smaller room with windows showing the main room.
There are various tubes in here that look to be heavily-protected, and likely impossible to break.
You open one, and place the scissors, folded schedule, and the pen inside.
You
get a strange feeling
and place the paper scrap in a separate container.
With everything locked down,
you put the drone back into its charging station against the wall of the main room,
and turn off the program.
You lean back from the chair.
You're fine.
Nothing happened this time.
You're safe.
Once you feel relatively conscious again,
you check the time.
You're nearly an hour and a half early.
The sun's already setting outside.
Doesn't matter.
You need a break, anyway.
You don't bother marking the task as complete yet,
and instead stand up from the desk.
A beep from the computer leads you to check it again.
There's already a mark on the footage, even though it's still processing.
Something from when you had the drone look out the classroom window, looks like.
Nope.
Not thinking about that.
Not right now.
You minimize the program and walk away from your desk.
You waste no time shoving the VHS into the slot on the TV,
flopping on the couch afterwards.
You likely wouldn't be able to finish the movie,
but you needed a break.
It starts playing.
You recognize this one from when you checked the movies before.
An older, black-and-white horror movie.
Something about some people breaking into a house.
A woman home alone. Intruders in the dark. That kind of thing.
You don't think a horror movie is the best thing for you right now.
But, you're too exhausted to get up and change it right now.
Besides, it's an old movie.
You aren't that worried about it.
You settle in against the couch,
giving the idle glance to the plush on the armrest.
The title card is
neat.
You
forget why.
You're having trouble keeping your eyes open.
The
protagonist is
talking with
some
somebody
her neighbor.
The
music is
BEEP.
You blink awake.
The TV is just a black screen that says 'TAPE END'.
It takes you a moment to process what you'd heard.
The computer made a noise.
You force yourself to your feet,
rubbing your eyes as you make your way over.
Oh.
There's another mark.
A new one.
You tab into that program.
It
isn't from the expedition footage.
It's a mark from the gate security camera.
Wait, and
and marks on some of the outdoor cameras.
A loud CLINK from below you widens your eyes.
The door to the stairwell has just opened.
Your heartbeat's speeding up.
You hear footsteps beyond the nearby door.
Coming up the stairs.
What d
You need to
You hurry as quietly as you can,
practically diving behind the couch,
slamming your shoulder in the process.
You wince.
The door opens.
Whatever
has stepped in
shouldn't be able to see you
behind here.
The TV is buzzing just loud enough to cover up your breathing, too.
Hopefully they don't check over here.
The intruder stands in the doorway for a few moments.
Then,
they make their way over towards the computer, of all places.
Their footsteps are heavy.
You can hear the mouse clicking.
You have no time to dwell on any of this.
NO ONE should be out here.
And, with the mark on the gate security camera?
They probably came OUT of there.
You have
just enough time
to figure out a plan.
You could try to sneak out of the room, but there's no way they wouldn't hear you opening the door at least.
Once you did, you could just run.
There are
three places you know of that you could try to go.
If you made it outside, you could either run for the delivery bay and activate the drone to... maybe defend you?
Or, you could head for the bunker on-site.
Either way, you'd be betting on how fast you could run.
You could, instead, book it for the bedroom.
There's a large pipe wrench you've kept next to your bed.
You don't exactly know how to fight, but it's heavy, and easy to swing.
You could cause some damage, and they may not have a weapon.
You could also try to just
hide here.
That's what your instincts are telling you to do.
But if at ANY point they decide to check around the room a little more, they would find you.
And on the floor, without a weapon,
you don't really like your chances.
There could even be other things to try, instead.
Maybe you'd have better ideas,
but you do NOT have time to Think.
You're not even sure you can make a decision.
You're trying very hard just to stop shaking.
You make a decision.
Inside is
a
stuffed toy.
You recognize the species it's based on immediately;
a type of blind, aquatic cave salamander.
But upon closer inspection,
it's got varying textures across it; the back and tail are somewhat bumpy, while the sides, underside, and face are squishy and soft, with a sort of rubbery texture for the frills.
Some part of this
very slightly bothers you.
No part of them is bumpy, and why wouldn't the frills have a more feather-like texture instead?
But,
this is a toy, and clearly not made to be anatomically accurate.
It isn't a big deal at all.
The far more important issue, anyway,
is that:
You would not have picked this.
Plush or not, this is a fidget toy, especially given that it's essentially small enough to fit in a pocket - though, it would need to be a rather large pocket.
You can't exactly use something like this, given your wrist problems.
And you wouldn't really order something like this to sit on your desk, either.
Plushes have never been much your thing, since
th h
n .
And, this is clearly a toy.
You'd feel self-conscious about picking this kind of thing when your coworkers, or your boss, or whoever handles the orders would know about it.
You still feel that way, even if you really feel like You didn't choose this.
Maybe
The options are always very limited
...you think. Your memory has been fuzzy, lately.
Maybe this really was, somehow, the best option available at the time?
Or, more likely, you misinterpreted whatever this option happened to be.
Maybe it just said 'SALAMANDER' and you guessed wrong at what it would be.
Or,
most likely,
they just sent you something you didn't choose.
It isn't as if you'll ever get an explanation, and you don't see the point in including this detail in the report.
Oh well.
You rotate the little thing in your hands.
A sticker on its underside commands 'SQUEEZE ME!'
You do not do this.
You debate leaving it here, in the delivery bay,
but you don't really want to end up seeing it on the security cam and doing a double-take.
Plus, something about doing that would make you
sad.
Abandoned toys, and all that.
You can't have it on your desk, as you'll be tempted to mess with it while working and you don't want to risk unnecessary pain,
and you don't want it in your bedroom; you feel like it'd creep you out at night, somehow.
Kitchen?
No, it'd just get in the way and get dirty.
Windowsill in the restroom?
Moisture would accumulate during showers. You don't want to make it moldy.
The couch.
It can just sit on one of the armrests.
Somewhere you won't end up staring at it, and won't be too inclined to mess with it, either.
That works.
You toss it into one of the supply bags and head back to the station.
By the time you've gotten all the supplies put away and organized, your hour is almost up.
Not only that, but the lack of sleep is really starting to hit you.
You push through it.
Just need to last until your shift ended.
You spin in your work chair, glancing over at the salamander on the couch's armrest.
From this distance, it does look less like a toy and more like a small, decorative pillow, or something.
Maybe you could stand to decorate a little more in general. Though, you'd rather get something practical for your weekly personal item.
Something to consider, at least.
You check off the task box.
11:15 AM - 12:00 PM: LUNCH BREAK
You still haven't eaten anything.
You still don't feel hungry.
Probably about time to force yourself, though.
You make your way into the kitchen/dining area and begin checking through the fridge and cabinets.
You just got fresh vegetables, meat, and they were even nice enough to actually let you have some spices, this time around.
But, you don't really have the energy to cook any of that.
You're getting to the point where you can feel your eyes trying to close.
With a sigh, you pull some spinach leaves out of the package and munch them down.
You debate taking a bite of one of the carrots, but the thought of raw carrot texture in your mouth makes you gag a little.
Vegetables done. Whatever.
You're better off clearing out the older food, anyway.
In the back of the freezer, you find a microwave meal; noodles, mushrooms, something or other. Fine.
You pull it out and examine the package.
Aren't these things meant to last for months?
How is this one expired by a week already?
They must be just putting up things they don't want as options; nearly expired or maybe not-so-fresh food.
It's
likely fine.
It's only a 'best by' date, it's only a week out, and you really, really hate to waste food, if you can help it.
You don't want to run out when you need it.
In a few seconds, it's in the microwave, with its various included packets strewn about the counter.
You re-read the instructions multiple times, including having to fish it from the trash can after throwing it away too early.
They're very simple instructions, but you keep somehow reading them and either not parsing them as language, or immediately forgetting what they say.
Maybe you're just that tired.
The microwave dings soon enough, and you follow the instructions before putting the
The microwave dings again.
You retrieve your meal, stirring it as you walk back into the work room and sit gently on the couch,
careful not to spill your garbage meal on yourself.
'Garbage meal' is more apt than you would ever want it to be.
You like mushrooms. What did they do to these?
Is it really just that expired? How?
You can hardly stomach this.
You wolf it down, regardless, forcing the food into your mouth in an effort to get it out of the way quicker.
It's done.
You finished it.
You toss what's left in the trash with gusto.
At least the ordeal is over.
There's still a few minutes left on your lunch break.
You're too tired to do much.
You pick out some movie and pop it in the player for later.
You spend the rest of your lunch break essentially staring at the wall.
It's eventually over, and you check off your lunch break.
12:00 PM - 3:00 PM: EXPEDITION (DRONE)
You've
been dreading this.
You did a good enough job keeping your mind occupied.
But now that it's Time again, all the worry is back, too.
At least you don't have to do it yourself this time.
You can just
do a quick one.
It doesn't require anything in specific of you,
and expeditions were sometimes shorter or longer than the allotted time.
The worst that happens is your employer docks a little bit of your pay when you actually make it back.
You could worry about that then; who cares.
You pinch your leg, trying to get yourself to move.
You open the drone control program.
You select the one at the gate.
It activates, and soon enough, you're seeing through its camera.
The controls were mostly simple enough; a bit like a game,
though the drone's movements were usually slower and weightier, especially the turning of its head.
There's a text box on the side where you can type in commands, too.
Usually this was easier for certain actions, especially ones that required dexterity, like interacting with objects.
With the drone awake,
you walk it to the main portion of the room.
The gate stands before it.
A huge, rectangular frame - at least ten feet tall and thirty feet wide - containing what looked to be iridescent sheets of glass in the center.
'ACTIVATE GATE', you type in.
With an ease of movement you couldn't replicate using the controls,
the drone pulling several switches on the console in front of the gate,
before pressing its hand on the button, holding it down for a few seconds.
The 'glass' glows brighter.
Bright, colored sparks shoot across the translucent panels like falling stars.
The panels
jut backwards improbably, one after another.
They extend out within the gate like telescopic lenses;
the gate's total dimensions becoming physically impossible.
Before
it all seems to collapse in on itself,
each sparking lens pulling back inward
with the sound of numerous closing doors.
Until a solid, concrete wall is all that remains where the panels had once been.
At their center
at the bottom
is a single, bright red, metal door.
It has a bar blocking it.
A dull hum buzzes in the air, now.
Sound from the powered gate.
'ENTER'.
The drone steps forward.
It removes the bar
placing it away
Then, it
Then, the other body steps inside.
A labyrinth of concrete extends before you.
Hallways,
tunnels,
and all manner of blank doorways-
painted-on spaces where doors would occasionally appear;
all of it is common.
You've seen this before.
Though, the concrete is new.
You want to make this quick.
You're very tired, still.
And an expedition is not the time to be exhausted.
You stop at the first real doorway you spot;
an average-looking, if rather heavy, wooden door with a plain, silver doorknob.
You guide the other body to turn the knob cautiously,
and peek your camera inside.
It's
a wide, dark hallway inside.
You adjust your camera.
There are many lockers along the hallway,
and various paper signs hung here and there.
You can see more doors at the back wall, which looks to be another hallway.
A school. At night.
This is startlingly specific to you.
Usually these spaces are more abstract.
Even watching through the screen, you hate looking at this place.
Make it a fast trip.
In, out.
Maybe you could just do one room.
Then you can leave.
You guide yourself to the closest classroom,
taking time to peek around the corner into the new hallway.
There's a red exit sign at the far end, where you can't see very well.
There does appear to be the school's library nearby, but one of the book carts is overturned, its books spilled out onto the floor.
You don't want to think about why it's like that.
You aren't going to.
As quietly as you can manage, you open the classroom door and walk inside, shutting and locking the door behind you.
You walk around the room, checking every nook and cranny that might house something to potentially attack you.
There's nothing in here, really.
Nothing malicious, that you can tell, anyway.
There's a tall, slim window in the corner, with a curtain pulled most of the way down.
You crouch down.
With a gentle pull, you tug it upwards and look outside.
A long, freshly-trimmed field extends out from the side of the school.
Or
maybe it isn't trimmed, on second glance.
The grass is thin, and most of it is yellow and dead, with only the occasional patch of green.
There are a few spots where the grass is gone completely, only dirt remaining.
Maybe the kids would
play sports there.
Or something.
You gaze out further, your curiosity not quite sated.
There are no other buildings, but you can see a road of cracked asphalt, and what look to be train tracks far, far ahead.
At the very back, though, to your side, you spot a dense mass of trees. A small forest, maybe. You aren't really sure.
Gazing out into them feels
horrible, somehow.
You don't want to look out the window anymore.
You pull your head back and pull the curtain all the way down to the bottom.
You want this over with.
Noticing the computer at the teacher's desk, you make your way over to it, bumping into the desk on your way.
The space is a bit tight for the other body to fit.
You manage it, leaning down to the computer.
It's plugged in, but doesn't seem to turn on.
Less work for you, at least.
Needing something to bring back with you,
you retrieve a nearby pen, a paper schedule, and a pair of scissors,
placing all of them in the small storage bag attached your front.
Easy enough.
As you turn to leave, you notice the projector plugged in at the front of the room.
Curious,
you walk your way over, peering at it.
You press the button to turn it on.
Light flashes directly into your camera,
playing
something.
You try to turn the drone quickly and scoot out of the way to see what exactly it's projecting,
but the drone is sluggish; as if it's stunned by the bright light shining into its camera.
By the time you've managed to steer it out of the way,
the projector has shut off.
You can't get it to turn on again.
You really wish you got a look at it.
You'd rather know what it was than not.
Now you're just going to be imagining it when you're trying to sleep tonight.
You've got enough nightmares as it is.
Oh well.
Time to leave.
You unlock the classroom door and take a step out into the hallway,
only to pull yourself back.
On the floor,
directly in front of the classroom you were just inside of,
is a torn scrap of paper.
You are
100% certain
it wasn't there before.
You reach down
and pick it up.
You
know you need to take this.
You don't want to, but it's necessary.
This is your job.
You stow it in the smallest storage bag; the one on your side.
You can't stop looking around in the nearby hallways.
Checking.
You
are leaving.
You're leaving.
You're going right now.
Done Done. Done.
Your mad dash through the school hallway and the concrete labyrinth feels much longer than it is.
You practically burst your way back through the red door,
slamming the bar back into place.
The gate is deactivated.
You nearly repeat the command again,
aiming the drone's camera at the gate,
as you watch the process from before repeat, in reverse.
It's back to its usual state soon enough,
the dull hum it emitted disappearing as it powers off.
You nearly shut off the drone control program, before remembering what you brought back.
You pull yourself back over to the far wall,
into a smaller room with windows showing the main room.
There are various tubes in here that look to be heavily-protected, and likely impossible to break.
You open one, and place the scissors, folded schedule, and the pen inside.
You
get a strange feeling
and place the paper scrap in a separate container.
With everything locked down,
you put the drone back into its charging station against the wall of the main room,
and turn off the program.
You lean back from the chair.
You're fine.
Nothing happened this time.
You're safe.
Once you feel relatively conscious again,
you check the time.
You're nearly an hour and a half early.
The sun's already setting outside.
Doesn't matter.
You need a break, anyway.
You don't bother marking the task as complete yet,
and instead stand up from the desk.
A beep from the computer leads you to check it again.
There's already a mark on the footage, even though it's still processing.
Something from when you had the drone look out the classroom window, looks like.
Nope.
Not thinking about that.
Not right now.
You minimize the program and walk away from your desk.
You waste no time shoving the VHS into the slot on the TV,
flopping on the couch afterwards.
You likely wouldn't be able to finish the movie,
but you needed a break.
It starts playing.
You recognize this one from when you checked the movies before.
An older, black-and-white horror movie.
Something about some people breaking into a house.
A woman home alone. Intruders in the dark. That kind of thing.
You don't think a horror movie is the best thing for you right now.
But, you're too exhausted to get up and change it right now.
Besides, it's an old movie.
You aren't that worried about it.
You settle in against the couch,
giving the idle glance to the plush on the armrest.
The title card is
neat.
You
forget why.
You're having trouble keeping your eyes open.
The
protagonist is
talking with
some
somebody
her neighbor.
The
music is
BEEP.
You blink awake.
The TV is just a black screen that says 'TAPE END'.
It takes you a moment to process what you'd heard.
The computer made a noise.
You force yourself to your feet,
rubbing your eyes as you make your way over.
Oh.
There's another mark.
A new one.
You tab into that program.
It
isn't from the expedition footage.
It's a mark from the gate security camera.
Wait, and
and marks on some of the outdoor cameras.
A loud CLINK from below you widens your eyes.
The door to the stairwell has just opened.
Your heartbeat's speeding up.
You hear footsteps beyond the nearby door.
Coming up the stairs.
What d
You need to
You hurry as quietly as you can,
practically diving behind the couch,
slamming your shoulder in the process.
You wince.
The door opens.
Whatever
has stepped in
shouldn't be able to see you
behind here.
The TV is buzzing just loud enough to cover up your breathing, too.
Hopefully they don't check over here.
The intruder stands in the doorway for a few moments.
Then,
they make their way over towards the computer, of all places.
Their footsteps are heavy.
You can hear the mouse clicking.
You have no time to dwell on any of this.
NO ONE should be out here.
And, with the mark on the gate security camera?
They probably came OUT of there.
You have
just enough time
to figure out a plan.
You could try to sneak out of the room, but there's no way they wouldn't hear you opening the door at least.
Once you did, you could just run.
There are
three places you know of that you could try to go.
If you made it outside, you could either run for the delivery bay and activate the drone to... maybe defend you?
Or, you could head for the bunker on-site.
Either way, you'd be betting on how fast you could run.
You could, instead, book it for the bedroom.
There's a large pipe wrench you've kept next to your bed.
You don't exactly know how to fight, but it's heavy, and easy to swing.
You could cause some damage, and they may not have a weapon.
You could also try to just
hide here.
That's what your instincts are telling you to do.
But if at ANY point they decide to check around the room a little more, they would find you.
And on the floor, without a weapon,
you don't really like your chances.
There could even be other things to try, instead.
Maybe you'd have better ideas,
but you do NOT have time to Think.
You're not even sure you can make a decision.
You're trying very hard just to stop shaking.
You make a decision.
