TrashMammal

(Just a draft for an SCP tale, not based on an SCP that I know of, but, would appreciate some feedback/writing advice on this one. Thanks c:)

"Come on corporal, we're Mole Rats", what a bunch of horse shit. Does Captain Dinhaila really believe that just because we're Mole Rats makes us less human and immune to that kinda shit ?

Command's gonna be pissed reading the opening to this report but at least I have my humanity about me.

Sergeant Ko told me to suck it up and get on with it but- I heard it in his voice. Like he was forcing himself to say it. Shaky, unsure with his brows furrowed. Now that I think about it I'm not even sure why I was attached to Z-9 instead of what I thought my major of 4 years would get me.

Now that I think about it, I don't know how everyone else is laying on the bathroom floor spilling their lunch into the toilet after that shit. Sorry James, should've eaten an MRE instead, your cooking reminded me of mom.

Now that I think about it, I miss mom. She was never great, but, at least she was mom. Dad was dad. My sister was my sister and so on.

Now that I think about it, maybe that's why that fucking.. Thing.. Played on me so much. Maybe it did to me more than anyone else because I'm a sentimental shithead, I dunno. Couldn't say. I can hardly realize all of this around me.

Site 06-03 was great for a while, I mean, maybe it still is, but I dunno. I used to talk with a lot of people here, French, German, Russian, had a knack for it, picked it up, they were fun languages. Let me meet fun people.

Anyway, it's all- fucked. I don't even know if that skip is contained.. Or one of my squad, or one of them.

Maybe it's reading this right now.

Hah, I haven't even typed out the stupid after action report. Really losing my shit over here.

How do these things open up again ?

Name: Cpl. Terro Brimve
Operating number: 90826723
Unit: Zeta - 9 'Mole Rats'

I don't know how to start these fucking things off, it's my first one, and I can't be fucked to remember what the ever living shit happened to make a detailed report so you'll have to kiss my ass when you find me in here.

We got sent off to some remote village in northern Ireland, a shack here, a shack there. Apparently there were some local legends from the land of shacks, caught wind in a bigger town, then a bigger city, I mean, that's what Captain Dinhaila told us as we rolled up in our LAV- couldn't say if it was a fact or not with all this dodgy black ops and shit. Kinda hard to believe anything after hearing about amnestics.

Anyway, we rolled up and flopped out of the fucking thing. Bunch of fucking fanatics or some shit told us we either "needed to leave or pay 50 to head the advice of the living ghost".

Knowing what I knew now I would have just cut the bastards down and thrown the grenade from my kit.

Anyway, we gave the crazy shits 50.. Yeah, in Pounds, and they opened up a gap for us to approach this little shitty shack. I mean, yeah it was shit but to them must have looked deluxe.

We got in, rifles up, standard procedure and whatever the fuck else.

I don't know what it was- the fact he was just standing there in the middle ? That he had this- weird, fucked up, knowing grin on his face ? Or that the was just sitting alone in the dark ?

Now that I think about it- for a shack ? It was pretty damn air tight.

"You're standing in my light", was the first thing it said- but, in a weird way.

You know how you stand in a fun house mirror and it looks like you, but not really ?

That's what it sounded like, but not really.

Captain walked up a foot or two before it exclaimed "I want him", lifting it's fucking clammy looking pale hand, pointing a finger too long for it's own damned good.

I laughed, actually, thinking of a show I may have seen when I was a kid. I don't know why, it just seemed funny.

That's when everything went down the shitter. Door slammed shut behind me, fucking shit my pants not expecting it- actually, I know why I laughed. I thought when I was recruited into the foundation, it was all some elaborate prank. Yeah, sure they told me everything, but, I couldn't suspend my disbelief.

Was waiting for the punchline.

Guess the punchline was when that fucking thing gave me the worst headache in the 22 years I've been alive and - it morphed.

Not like, instantaneous, or, like in the shows where it's blurred- no, I saw it's skin bubble and stretch, almost like it was being exploded from within, then snap back down, over and over.

I heard and saw it's bones, cracking, snapping and shifting about within it.

Hearing it scream- in my mom's voice.

I don't know if it was childish fear coming back up or the fact of what I just saw happen in front of me- but.. I dropped my rifle and fell to the floor.

The thing just fucking.. Laughed.

It's like it knew.

I think that because it went from being my mom, to my dad, to my sister, my best friend, every face I knew and came to grow and love in my life.

I'm supposed to get over that because I'm a "Mole Rat". Not fucking likely.

Vodka's never tasted so damn good and that rifle next to me looks just as good.

Captain's banging on the door with some other site security or some shit because they noticed the rifle missing from the armory.

I don't wanna die but I don't wanna live with what I know.

Maybe if I open the door they'll give me an amnestic to help or demote me into class D. What a fun time that would be.

Or maybe, it's not Captain Dinhaila, now that I think about it.