Per 
The Diaries From A Foundation Guard
JUNE, 20██
Dear diary, actually no, fuck that.
Dr. Judith Patterson recommended to me that I should keep a diary to record my thoughts as a way to expel the negative emotions attached to said thoughts. I've always thought diaries were for young teenage girls to write about their crushes in big squiggly writing but here I am, doing that exact thing - minus the crush thing, of course.
Actually, I guess it kinda is like that. I would say I'm attracted to Dr. Patterson but I think it's nothing more than sexual attraction. Or maybe there is romantic attraction and I'm too much of a muppet to understand it. Anyway, damn does her body drive me crazy - I haven't talked to a woman other than her here on Site-266 since I was brought in a few months ago from training. No girl in her right mind would train as Foundation security, considering half of the shit they had to see before even being put on the field, so it was a sausage fest all the way.
Judith though, she's all woman as they say, with purplish-black tights revealing spiny legs attached to a nice ass. Though she wears a white lab coat like most of the doctors here, when in her office during therapy, she likes to take it off and reveal a short-sleeved white-buttoned shirt and a black short leather skirt. God I'm surprised they even let her wear that shit here, considering I'm not allowed to even wear a ring without it being screened for "anomalous properties." Guess that's the privileges of higher level personnel or whatever.
Anyway, her hair is dyed a dark purple and her eyebrows are fuckin' fantastic. Her face appears a little gaunt from time to time and her nose ending in a small hook, but otherwise she's a knockout. And super smart as well, using all these big words that I've never heard of in my life. Going to her office every Sunday is the reason I get up in the morning and work my ass off - as hard as patrolling the Botanic Center is.
Yesterday, the sultry weather meant that the windowed dome that roofed the Botanic Center was closed and the internal cooling system was put on full blast, though the AC is hardly effective in such a large environment. So as I stood at Checkpoint 2B, the central checkpoint on the biome border between the desert and temperate sectors, a pool of sweat forming in my helmet, the loudspeaker announced my name:
"G-1442, Alex Parisha, report to Dr. Patterson's office immediately."
When I heard this, I almost screamed, "Yes!" I nearly flung my standard-issue rifle into the backseat of the transport truck as I got in and drove to the Southern exit point. When I reached it, I took out my rifle and waited for the substitute guard to climb in and drive off. After that, I ripped off my helmet and jogged to the elevator, slipping in-between the closing doors.
When I reached Floor BC, Steve was waiting outside of the doors, gesturing to me to hand my weapon over. I complied while giving him a simple greeting before jogging to Judith's office. It must've been a strange sight, seeing some six-foot five buff black dude jogging the way I was, but the busy office workers were too engrossed in their own work to give me any stink eye. When I reached her door, I cleared my throat and knocked.
"Come in," I heard her say.
When I entered, I was greeted with the cool lavender-scented air of her office. She sat behind her desk with her legs resting on it, a cup of Jo to her left and a laptop to her right. Her casual demeanor always made her appear as some slob or rookie, but from what I've gathered, she's probably one of the most important doctors in the site beside Dr. Allison and probably the smartest.
She gestured to the red chaise longue as she called it that sat beside the desk. I fell down into it and let out a long sigh.
"Wow," Judith said, the o always sounding like it had a u after it, "you must be tired. Didn't hear any breaches occurred today so I wonder why?"
"Nah, there was nothing. It was just so hot down in that damn center, place is lined with lead or something, keeps the sun heat in or somethin'." I chuckled. "I almost passed out from heatstroke a few times down there, Jim prodding me with the butt of his gun to make sure I stayed alert."
"Yeah, every time I go down to that place, it always seems claustrophobic despite being massive. I've brought up to admins that the place needs a better air conditioning system but I've gotten no word back so they've probably shredded my request alongside others requesting for new coffee or vending machines." Judith sighed. "I sometimes doubt they even exist and are more of a concept rather than actual people. Have you read 1984, Alex? It's like they're Big Brother, though don't tell anyone I said that."
We shared a laugh.
"Nah, I've never read a book in my life - they've never really interested in as much as the movies have, ya' know? But my brother, as you know, was a published novelist so I probably have some literature blood in me somewhere. Though don't expect me to write the next great American novel."
Judith nodded. "Ah, that's actually related to what I wanted to talk with you today." She stood from her chair and sat on the foot of the couch I laid on, crossing her legs. I had to keep forcing my eyes to meet hers rather than stay transfixed on them. "I've been doing some research…"
"You're never not doing no research," I interrupted.
She smiled. "…about ways as to deal with PTSD and one way I read about is keeping a diary - or a journal, in your case."
I raised an eyebrow. "A diary? Isn't that what kids doodle in?"
"Actually, a lot of highly influential people keep diaries, such as [REDACTED] and [REDACTED].1 It's an effective way to remove negative thoughts such as self-harm and suicide as it's like expunging them into the real world."
"Eh, I don't know, I've always thought little girls kept diaries, not grown-ass men like myself."
"I would really appreciate it if you at least wrote in it once or twice, just to see how it goes, ya' know?" Judith rested her hand on my foot. "Please? If it doesn't work for you, you can forget all about it and we'll try something else instead."
And so, with the light touch on my boots, Judith coerced me into writing this long draft of dribble. I don't know what's the point of it or whether I'm going to keep doing it, but I guess I'll write down interesting events as they come.
If they come.
— Alex
Oh shit, guess I forgot about this, huh?
Well, you haven't missed out on much, apart from something really funny that occurred a few days ago.
Remember that other guard called Jim who kept hitting me with his gun to keep me awake? Well that crazy-son-of-a-bitch started chasing after SCP-XXXX after it came to the checkpoint during our shift.
Area-U94
The vibrations shook Kyle from his bed, causing him to wake up with a gash on his brow. However, that was the least of his worries as he ran out of his quarters in his underwear, blood trailing over his left eye as the lighting fixtures blinked like they were the ones being blinded. The corridors seemed to twist and bend as his feet slapped down them. A trail of red followed in his stop-motioned shadow.
When he smashed through the door to the observation deck, he found himself facing complete darkness. Smashing his fist into the light switch, the deck illuminated. There, sitting in the central command seat with twelve different monitors blinking was James rapidly typing. Running to his side, Kyle leaned over his chair. "What's happening?" he asked.
"SCP-XXXX has started moving. What the fuck do we do?"
Kyle noticed that an empty glass sat at the base of the keyboard, the keys coated in a film of water. A straw sat on the ground, droplets still dripping from its tip. In the monitors, all situated facing different directions, had movement in all of them. Two people dressed in high-pressure diving suits were making the slow descent into the entity's cavern. The cameras present in the entity's vicinity were showing nothing but black screens with text in the center reading:
CONNECTION LOST
"So, how do we proceed to unfuck this situation?" James asked.
"Who is going down there — shit!" A huge eruption from the cavern caused the entire base to shake and creak. The two people out in the suits collapsed backwards though the water slowed their descent, making it appear slow motion. As Kyle stood back up, he noticed he had gotten blood over James' shoulder. But like a true champ, he thought, he hasn't noticed shit.
"Aleya and Akashi," he said with a cool voice. "They're going down there to see what the fuck is happening. Should we call a Priority-B Code-Blue or what?"
"Not yet, the Director only said to call a Code-Blue if the entity escaped."
"Sounds like escaping to me," James said, rolling the chair over to the microphone. Selecting the suit transmission to 03, he asked, "Are you two alright?"
Through the speaker, Aleya called out: "We're all good." In the camera feed, Aleya shows a waving thumbs up as Akashi brings himself from the sand.
"That woman, I swear."
