The Scientist looked beyond the railing of the balcony, it amused him that the facility he worked at even required railing, they'd let people die and sweep it under the rug, but heaven forbid someone fall and sue the Foundation. He chuckled to himself, staring at the nuclear reactor ahead of him, it was an odd sight but he found it fascinating compared to the horrors of his work. It was only respite, while others would socialize in the coffee lounge, or take a walk in the Foundation recreational area outside of the facility, he'd spent his days constantly around the inner workings of the facility. He couldn't remember the last time he actually saw the sun, it didn't matter though, the moment he put the ink on the paper signing his employment to the Foundation, he could almost sense the timer on his life going faster.
He sighed as he entered the decontamination chamber outside of the reactor room, his hair and clothes were a bit wet now, but he could deal with it. Walking out of the chamber and into the maintenance hallway, he searched around for anyone, it was a wonder the Foundation could afford to maintain such a facility with so little staff, O5 was always mysterious, and given his current clearance and time at the Foundation, he doubted that he would ever know every secret, maybe O5 doesn't even know.
He walked to the chamber of his 'favorite' anomaly, the porcelain mask. As he swiped his card for entry, he could already hear it talking. "Oooh, Doctor! Come once again to chat?" It said in a mocking tone. The Scientist scoffed and leaned on the wall in the chamber, "Of course, I love the irritating gravel of your voice and the constant thoughts of suicide you give me." "Oh please Doctor, you're the one who chooses your own torture, had it been my call I would've gone for that sweet princess of a scientist you adore." The room fell quiet. "Last containment breach resulted in two breaches, she was one of the forty-six casualties." More silence. The mask simply laughed, it felt awful talking to this thing, but he got paid a nice sum for his work, especially with the mask, he ran the numbers a month ago, if he finished his contract without incident, he'd have enough to settle down at the age of fifty, and pay for therapy. He was so caught in thought of leaving the Foundation that he hadn't noticed that the masks laughing stopped. "Doctor Mandrel, you're here forever, they'll wipe your mind until you die or you're of no use to the Foundation anymore, someday they'll finally wipe your mind again and you'll find yourself in a retirement home, unable to recollect the past seventy years of your life, unable to remember the scars of the loved ones you met here." The Scientist stared at the mask, he tried his best not to show his emotions but he felt sick to his stomach. This was the first time the mask had said something serious, if not helpful to him. It could read minds, he remembered that, but why the 'advice', if you could even call it that, he knew it could sense the disgust brewing in him. It could be right, it had been in the possession of the Foundation for decades, if not centuries, and he must've seen scientist after scientist leave and go. Maybe another fool like him had been in this same exact situation, talking to the mask as some twisted form of therapy, and their 'dying' wish was to tell the secret of all of their terminations to the mask.
Clear as day, Mandrel felt excited again. There must have been a spring in his step as he walked, he would meet up with her again and they would chat about their daily happenings, it was the only respite in this cruel facility that he had. As he sat down at the cafeteria table, waiting for her, he collected his thoughts on what to tell her. Maybe more news about 035, but she must be sick of hearing about the degradation from a porcelain mask. He could barely finish the thought before she finally sat down in front of him, "So, how was your day so far?" She asked. He began to tell her everything about the mask he studied so far, about it's supposed origin story that it had finally leaked, to the latest body it had acquired. It felt amazing, she always chuckled when he made a snide remark about the mask, and she seemed attentive to everything he was saying. He stopped mid sentence, frozen. After a second, she finally inquired, "What's wrong? Did you finally realize something about it?" "This isn't real." He mumbled. She raised an eyebrow, "Do you need to see the therapist again? I bet that'll drain your paycheck again." She laughed. "You died in an accident three days ago, I never got to say goodbye when you had to leave that morning." The room fell quiet, the lights had shut off and he felt the pain in his chest rising up again. She nodded her head and stood up, "You may never know what I last thought before I finally passed, but there's high likelihood it was you. Everyday we sat and talked, it was the most enjoyable part of the wretched place."
Mandrel opened his eyes, his imagination had run wild again, he was standing in front of that damned mask, its irritating grin, whoever molded it must've intentionally made it the most annoying thing to look at. "What's wrong doctor? Imagination acting up again? Do you need to see the therapist again? I bet that will drain your paycheck again." Mandrel couldn't take it anymore, he was about to leave when he swore he felt a hand on his shoulder, he let out an audible yell, jumping and turning around, even the mask was surprised by this, Mandrel faced the wall, there was nothing, the masks' grime hadn't made its way up that far yet. He remembered her 'final' words to him, he clenched his fist and left immediately, he didn't believe in ghosts, if there were ghosts, the Foundation would have contained them by now, maybe even made a ghost repelling device. He made his way to his office, wanting to take a break there, the mask wasn't a good idea, especially after the events of the last containment breach.
He sank his head into his hands, staring at the photo he had printed out of the both of them. He knew he should get rid of it, getting into a relationship, no matter how small, was a bad idea in the first place, considering how everyone in this facility can someday disappear without a trace. But he needed it, it was the only memory of her left in this world, it kept him sane knowing someone cared for him. There would be no happy ending for him, but the hope she gave him told him that he wouldn't die distraught.