Per 
{this series will include music that I handpicked to fit each story and to liven up it all as a whole, if you don’t want to listen, or can’t feel free too}
In a back room, dark and lonely. A light shines, fixed from the ceiling, unto a colouring book. Splotched with gray and green, with no attention to color in or outside the line. A four and a half year old, atleast that’s what he would tell you when you asked, scribbles some more color into his outline of Spongebob.
…
Daddy had left him here to finish up his bussiness. Daddy was going to sell a statue today, he said it would make both mommy and daddy really rich. That they could buy him a trampoline! It had gotten really dark though. He’d spent all day in here and his dad hadn’t come back. He decided to go out and look for daddy, maybe he’d get to see the statue again too. Daddy had told him not to blink when he looked at it. It might jump at him if he did. His dad always kept the statue in a metal box, so it could never hurt him or dad. He wandered the halls of the big building, looking for auction hall 7A. That’s where daddy said he would be, if He needed him. He took a left down another hallway until he saw the numbers go down. “If daddy’s in 7A it’s probabwy close now” he said aloud as he counted down the numbers. 14A, 13A, 12A, he hadn’t ever officially learned to add or subtract, but he knew how to count. Logically he just saw the numbers go down, and thought there must be a 7 close enough. As he looked up at the numbers he saw it, just ahead of him. He heard a lot of shouting, like when Daddy sold other stuff he got. He put his ear to the door, hoping to hear his dad finally sell the statue.
…
It wasn’t a standard raid. Usually 05 members were kept as far away as possible from any danger, but 05-4 insisted he Had to go. Something about a personal grudge with 173 and Mr. Dark. I was the sqaud leader of MTF - Alpha 1 “the right red hand”, it always felt cool to say the name in full, and me and my team were assigned duty today. It was mandatory that we were dispatched whenever an 05 was present on a mission. A matter of protocol. Today was no different. I was to equip my team with silenced weapons and to infiltrate an auction for the sale of Scp-173. It was easy stuff. My team and I were to secure passage of 05-4 to the object, and whomever was in direct possession of it. It was supposed to be simple, in and out, with the Scp of course, and straight back to Site 19. Something wasn’t right though, 05s hardly left their concrete boxes, lest want to go to the danger. Why the need for stealth? it just didn’t make sense. I pondered and theorized as I hopped into the carrier. It peaked his interest for most of the ride, and they were nearing the auction house. I tried to clear my mind before I grabbed my rifle. No matter my doubts, I had a job to do.
…
“The mission was a success” I said through cracked voice “we secured 173, and escorted 4 back to site 1”. I was meeting with my psyche evaluator after the mission. “All civilians and guards. Whe- whe-“, “calm yourself Barkley”, she said. Reliving what happened was too much, for me. How someone could be so cruel, so heartless. “Where neutralized and amnestized”. “We made short work of them actually”. I was diverting my mind of it, thinking of anything but it, so I could speak clearly. It still tinged at the back of my mind. “Once we had everything sorted out, and all hostile were taken care of, 4 demanded we detain the caretaker of the statue, for questioning”. “It was fairly simple stuff, we’ve run ops in interior with common GOIs and taken some in for questions”. “It was commonplace”. “We rounded up the few people caretaking the statue, and the auctioneer”. He squirmed at the thought of what comes next. “He, 4, I mean, He looked then all up and down, I guess he was hoping for something, because the next thing”. He stayed silent looking at his evaluators face. Hoping for something, that she’d understand, that he didn’t have to say it. “Go on” she said. “The next thing he did, he said under his breath ‘plan b then’, and he, oh god, he just pulled out a gun and shot the auctioneer”. “His blood and brain splattered on my vest, the guy just barely missed me”. “Then, then, then”. “Christ Barkley your an MTF agent, pull it together”, her words cut. She didn’t know, I half felt like I should snock her here and now. Run, I don’t know to where, but forget about the foundation. I didn’t though, after what happened though I wish I did. “A kid barged in yelling daddy!”. “He heard the shot and just rushed in”. “4 just turned and shot”. “He didn’t look, it was rehearsed, something, anything but an accident”. “He killed a goddamned kid, the fucker shot a kidergartener”. “I see” she said from across from me. “Did you hear me woman, he shot a fucking kid”. “Yes, Barkley I hear, it hasn’t been the first time this has happened at the foundation”. “What do we just carry out belated abortions on a monthly basis”. “Barkley, you need to think about this logically, in a business this big and secret, it has have to had happened”. She said this to me, like she hadn’t just heard me say what I said. “I’m done with you woman, I’ve got a headache”. “Barkley be respectful. Here take one of these, it’ll help”. “Mind if I step away and take it with some water”. “Not at all”. I knew what amnestic looked like, did she expect a red hand agent to not recognize one? I slipped into the washroom and dumped it into the toilet. I walked out and greeted her again. “Now what were we talking about” she said. “I don’t quite know”. I lied through my teeth.
…
Soon after the session was over. I walked out and went to grab some food from the site 1 cafeteria. How I could develope an appetite after what I just discussed, seen. I didn’t know. All I knew, is that I was fucking hungry. As I walked down the hallway I saw him. HIM. I diverted my gaze I couldn’t look at him. “Excuse me Barkley, I just got out of a meeting, do you have the time of day”. Other 05s pushed past him, going their way to the cafeteria, or their blacked out limos. Unaware I knew, I knew it all. “It’s fucking 21 hours”. “W-what”. He blabbered. “It’s 2100 hours sir!” I said to him. “Oh- thanks” he said uncomfortably. As he walked away I felt a breeze, odd that it’s inside. Especially the most secure compound in the world. I swear, I heard it laugh.
