II

What I expected from a Keter level SCP was something big and scary, something that could kill you just by looking at it. What I wasn't expecting was a one-story farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. The closest structure was a chemical plant down the road, which was actually a foundation front so as to keep an eye on the farm house. We drove around the perimeter, seeing the house from a distance. It looked as though it had been deserted for years, worn by wind and rain. The roof seemed to be barely holding on, the porch sinking into the mud and windows blacked out.

Entering the chemical plant, it was a lot like the foundation site before. White walls, white floors, the smell of sterilization. We were greeted by two guards who verified us three times before allowing us in. Upon entering, we were given a holster and a pistol. Thompson put in on quick and easy, but I struggled. I'd never wielded a gun in my life, so I never really needed a holster before. Thompson adjusted the straps and explained the process. The guard offered to put it on for me but Thompson was adamantly against it. I think he was still worried about what happened in the car.

Guided through the halls, we didn't come across very many others. It was like a ghost town, silent aside from the echoing of our footsteps. Thompson frequently glanced back at me. Eventually, we entered a large room with monitors and at least three people. They were dressed in the old familiar white uniforms. They didn't bother to look up as we entered.

"See those monitors?" Thompson pointed to the line of screens. "They're along the fence we drove around."

"None in the house?"

"Can't."

One of the scientists approached us, offering his hand. Thompson shook it. I reached out to shake as well but the man pulled away after shaking Thompson's hand. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little insulted. He motioned for us to get closer to the screens. They were boring shots of different angles of the farmhouse, each in greying color and flickering quality. With the mass expansion of the foundation, you'd think they could spring for some better equipment.

"We're just hear to check the system," Thompson nodded. "Anything happen recently?"

"No, sir," the man sighed. "Haven't had a problem in more than a year. Been keeping people away and keeping those damn monsters from the fence."

"Fair enough," mumbled Thompson, coughing a little. "No explorations, right?"

"Of course. We're waiting for headquarters to send us some Ds to begin testing again. We can't afford to lose anyone out here."

"I understand that," chuckled Thompson, nudging me. I smiled by didn't reply.

"There has been something, sir," the man groaned, looking away. Thompson straightened up, demeanor changing to a more serious tone.

"We think the town may have been compromised," the man sighed.

"Compromised how?"

The man looked at me. His eyes were dark, placed deep in his skull with a thick forehead. His lip curled as he scoffed, turning back to Thompson. Couldn't tell if he was being sexist or classist. Thompson had warned me that some of the field positions were more elitist when it came to class and ranks. I guess this was what he was talking about.

"Compromised how?" snapped Thompson.

"Insurgence," the man whispered. "We're worried the…defectors might be attempting to get in."

"Proof?"

He motioned to the monitors again.

"We've had sensors go off around the fence. Same point. Same time. Like clockwork. Haven't caught them yet, but the cameras have them."

Thompson glanced at me before returning to the man.

"And you're sure it's the Insurgency?"

"They have the uniforms and insignias of foundation personnel," he gulped. "Only the Insurgency could have such access."

Thompson sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. I had no idea what they were talking about. If it was truly important, I expected it to be kept from me. If it was really important, Thompson would tell me about it later. With a groan, Thompson put his hands on his hips, looking over all the screens. The man nodded, glancing at me. He snarled his lip. I wanted to punch him.

"When do they show up?" Thompson asked, drawing the man's attention.

"Soon, sir."

"Where?" Thompson grabbed me by the arm, leading me toward the door.

"North sector. Section 27," called the man. "Should I send our troops?"

"Wait for my signal," Thompson instructed, waving to the man.

We began down the hall, footsteps echoing in our silence. He released my arm, crossing his arms over his chest. He let out a heavy sigh, the kind that someone does when they want to talk but want someone to start it. I groaned, rolling my eyes, but offered him a smile.

"What are we doing?" I chuckled, gesturing over the hall.

"We're gonna either catch some punks or we're gonna surprise some enemies," grinned Thompson, winking at me.

"Enemies?"

"You think a foundation like ours had no enemies?" he laughed, hardy but mostly fake sounding. "We've got plenty!"

"And what's the Insurgency?"

"The Chaos Insurgency," he hummed, puffing his chest, "are traitors to the foundation." He waved a finger at me. "They were once part of the black ops but decided they'd rather abuse the SCPs rather than contain them."

"How do you use an SCP the size of a house?"

"We probably should've read the file," mumbled Thompson, rubbing his chin. "It doesn't look like all that much so it either makes or traps."

"Makes?"

"Now, now, my lovely assistance! You must know that some SCPs create new ones!"

He seemed so proud of himself in this conversation. It was the first time in a while I'd seen him in a cocky mood. Since we'd left the hospital after what happened at the foundation site, he'd been kind of down and more serious. I still remember him in the hospital, holding a gun to me. He was willing to kill me. That's something I couldn't quite shake.

"I'll drive!" he cheered as we stepped outside, spinning the keys on his finger.

"No," I huffed. "It's still day, I get to drive."

He looked at me, eyes narrowed and lip pursed. I tried puffing my chest to give the air of confidence as he had before and yet I couldn't help but feel my expression betrayed me. He rolled his eyes, swinging the keys to me. Grasping them in my hands, I smiled at him.

"Keep us on the road this time," he joked, but I could see the twinge in his lip. He was worried again.