MightyMightyena

QUESTIONABLE ETHICS

Agent Zach Fletcher glanced down at the printed-out email in his hand. He glanced up at the not-at-all helpful and frankly rather irritating map of Site-19. He looked at the email again.

"Its official, I'm lost…" he grumbled to himself as he peered at the map once more. He took a left by SCP-4057's containment, went straight past the break room further down, right at the intersection to some dormitories-

He frowned and glanced at the email again. "Left at the intersection. Damn stupid map…" Folding the piece of paper and slipping it into an inner pocket of his suit jacket, he doubled back the way he came with a disgruntled sigh and a shake of the head.

To the Foundation, Site-19 represented the largest facility dedicated to the main mission. An impenetrable fortress that specialised in almost every field of containment and research. To the staff that lived here, it was their luxurious and spacious home.

To a first time visitor like Fletcher, it was a God damned labyrinth. Running around from corridor to corridor past labs and containment cells alike like a lab rat hunting for the cheese. It didn't help that the site maps scattered all across the facilty were so hard to read.

Two more double-backs and asking an amused security guard for directions later, he finally reached his destination almost a full half-hour later than the time stated in the email. A lone standard facility door awaited him in the quiet and reclused corner of the site with an equeally as lonely guard on duty at the security desk next to it.

"Is this Project 1471-3?" Fletcher asked as he approached, glancing at the door and the wall around it for an identifying sign or a plaque but found none.

"Sure is. You're running late." The guard grunted as he sat up in his seat and picked up a clipboard.

"I got lost."

"Should've asked for a guide or escort. Security credentials please." Fletcher passed him the credit card-sized piece of plastic along with the printed email, watching him examine them both before giving the agent a questioning look. "You're supposed to verbally state your credentials too here." He grumbled after a moment of silence.

"Oh, okay. Field Agent Zach Fletcher; Clearance Level 2, Class C." The guard muttered something about tourists as he checked his clipboard for comparison again.

"Checks out I suppose, go on in." He handed out Fletcher's card back to him before lazily tossing his clipboard onto the table and pulling out his own card. He leant back in his chair to tap it against a card reader and as it chirped affirmatively the door slid open.

SCP Sandbox III

Sandbox III: Revenge of the Sandbox