I am currently gloved and ugly sweatered up for the purposes of dealing with a nasty little corrupt thing. I hate the Corruption. I hate wearing gloves while I type out my reports. I feel absolutely ridiculous. Maybe I will just chance a bit of contamination next time, this is awful. I am starting to get gross honestly. I can feel the sweat dripping down my back, but I need more time with this object. I wish I was at a point where I could just know things or however it works. This is stupid, why do I have to get my hands dirty. I swear, the Corruption is laughable. One day someone could bring me a pair of stinky shoes, and it would be an artefact of the Corruption. Probably some gym bro with moldy feet or something.

A knock on the wall nearby breaks me out of my inner monologuing. It's one of the other employees down here, "Helen, Tim from the Archives would like to see you." Tim from the Archives! How exciting! It begins. Now we are getting somewhere.

I tuck the current object of my inspection away into a sealed container, and then I bag it. As soon as I can place the box somewhere out of reach, I rip the gloves off my hands. I hear footsteps creak against trusty floorboards. I think I really do love it here! "Sorry about that, give me one moment." I peel off my sweater, one hand keeping my shirt firmly down as I do. I am not trying to flash anybody, and certainly not Tim from the Archives.

I turn to face a man wearing a strangely patterned buttoned shirt. The top two buttons are not done, and his skin peeks out. I give him a once over. "You and Martin must get along well." Martin is the only other person I know in the Archives currently.

His lips twitch, "And you must be Helen! It's lovely to meet you."

He holds out a hand, and I find myself shaking two of his fingers. I have small hands and the occasional social anxiety, okay. He tries and fails to stifle a laugh. "You're alright," I tell him. I am going to breathe heavily in a closet after this conversation. This is a rough one.

"I hear that you are well versed in these old things," he waves his hands around, gesturing at the shelves. I am tucked away into a sometimes well lit portion of the archives. There are shoeboxes and containers filled with objects for me to examine. It is more than a mess, and the other employees usually just drop cases in here for me wherever there's space and leave. "I just wanted to ask you a few questions about some case I am looking into." I move a box onto a shelf and pull out a chair that was hidden away.

"Take a seat! Do you need anything to take notes? How long will you need?" He perches on the edge of the chair I have unearthed for him like an exotic bird. I feel like some preening is about to begin. I can only handle so much preening. I already have to survive Elias's ego.

"Did I just rescue you from some horrid task?"

"Not really. I wasn't doing anything." He raises an eyebrow, and then blinks away the moment of confusion.

"You're a weird one, aren't you?"

"Is that one of the things you came here to ask?" A shelf creaks. He turns to look over the direction it came from.

"Don't mind it." I follow his line of sight and lecture the noise, "Hey, I'm working! Let him speak."

He does not even try to hide his laugh this time. I can see him open his mouth to comment on something, but then he stops himself. "So, I was wondering if you know anything about some creepy lantern you got a hold of a few weeks ago?"

Oh. Yes, I know of the lantern he is referring to. It is an extension of the Lonely. "Would that be the one associated with all those disappearances?" So many objects are associated with disappearances. As if I could be more vague with him. Wow, I am so difficult!

"Yes, that! Have you been able to track down anyone associated with it, or learned anything about its history?"

"Well, no. They disappeared." That also is not what I do. I love misinformation. How much should I tell him? What does Elias want me to tell him? He probably wants me to decide for myself.

"I suppose that would make it difficult to have a chat with them, wouldn't it?" I wonder how much of this Tim believes. He has to at least believe some of it, but it doesn't seem to me he's reached a major change yet. He still retains much of himself.

"No, they actually show up and wander into my mother's house, and she locks them in her basement." That wouldn't be so incorrect actually. Some of it could be true. I don't remember if she is involved in this lantern specifically.

"Really?"

"No, Tim. My parents are dead."

"Oh."

"What do you know of it, Tim? How about we start there? Then, I can help you fill in some details."

"Well, supposedly it makes people disappear, but then how would we have it?" If every artefact was infallible, how would we have any? I am going to lie to him.

"Well, we did receive it from the prior user, who was noticeably well, not vanished. Maybe look into them? You could also see if there's anything like it mentioned or associated with Mikaele Salesa." His eyes light up at the suggestion, he leans forward. I finally have the right level of engagement.

Perfect! Time to deliver. "If you want my opinion, it does give you a bit of a headache and a disorienting feeling, but the light it gives off is weird if that makes sense. It is probably just something old and made with unsafe materials, although how it manages to light at all is a wonder to me." I sort through my papers and dash down a few of my comments with a broken crayon on the back of a children's menu from dinner the other night. I pass him the paper with my barely legible handwriting. "Hazardous materials may very well explain some of the effects attributed to it. Now that I think of it, it may have some kind of a ritual or ceremonial purpose. That might even explain the disorientation." I am so good at this.

He seems brighter than when he came in as he folds my notes. "Thank you so much! This gives me some ideas on next steps."

"Actually," I have an idea, "if you leave me your number or a way to contact you, I can send you some more clean notes. I could go dig it up at some point, and I can send you a picture."

"I would definitely appreciate that. Thank you." He leans over my desk, grabbing my broken crayon. He writes very large and impossible to misunderstand numbers. He draws a smiley face to the right of it. How flirty.

"Have a good night," I tell him. He pauses mid-step, and then continues on his way out.

I wonder who shall be next?
Now that he is gone, I should get back to my corrupted object. I have yet to figure out everything I need to about it, and I believe Elias will want to see me about it tomorrow first thing.

Obviously, I am going to make it entirely useless. I am excited. Unfortunately, this does mean I need to spend a bit more time with it. I need to grab a new pair of gloves. I would wear socks on my hands if I could write legible reports that way. Where is my glove box?

I have noticed that objects such as these become less potent the more I know about them. Unfortunately, I have to record my research somewhere in order for it to take effect. It really comes down to my decision on whether to destroy the object or maintain its power. The amount that I write decides its fate.

This object seems to be some cruel joke on the Corruptions part:

Magnus Institute - Artefact Storage Division
Report on Corruptive Face Mask
Date: [XXXX] Investigator: Helen Supervisor: Elias Bouchard

I. Artifact Identification

A. Codename: The Rotskin
B. Classification: Corruptive Artifact
C. Origin: Unknown
D. Previous Owner/Incident: Details pending investigation

II. Physical Description

The Rotskin appears to be an innocuous disposable face mask, seemingly clean and ready for use. However, its true nature becomes apparent once worn. The fabric of the mask adheres to the wearer's skin, and attempts to remove it prove futile.

Project Status:
Ongoing research is being conducted to understand the magical properties causing The Rotskin's curse and teleportation capabilities. Extreme care must be taken to prevent unintentional exposure to this dangerous artifact.

III. Anomalies and Safety Measures

Anomalies:
A. Rapid Decay: Upon donning The Rotskin, the user experiences a rapid onset of necrotic decay on the covered areas of their face. The rotting process is accelerated, causing severe physical and cosmetic damage.
B. Teleportation Resilience: Disposal attempts, such as tossing the mask into the trash, result in the artifact reappearing in pristine condition at a new location. The mask seems impervious to traditional means of removal.
C. Cursed Attachment: Any effort to forcibly remove the mask results in intense pain for the wearer. It seems to be magically fused with the skin, resisting any attempt at separation.
Instances of self-mutilation reported.

Safety Measures:
A. Avoid Usage: Under no circumstances should the Rotskin be worn. Immediate disposal in a secure containment environment is recommended.
B. Isolation Protocol: Any individuals coming into contact with the Rotskin , whether intentionally or accidentally, should be quarantined and monitored for symptoms of decay.
C. Containment Procedures: The artifact should be handled with extreme caution. Containment specialists equipped with protective gear are advised for retrieval and containment.

Observed Effects

A. Rapid onset of paranoia and rot among those in proximity.
B. Increased aggression and hostility towards non-infected individuals.

IV. Containment and Surveillance

A. Containment Protocol:
Secure the artifact in a consecrated containment chamber to mitigate its corruptive influence.
Restrict access to authorized personnel only.

B. Potential for Destruction:
Assess the feasibility of destroying the artifact to eliminate its corruptive influence. It is a danger to store, and better off separated from the Corruption.

C. Surveillance and Monitoring:

Establish a surveillance protocol to monitor individuals exposed to the mask for any signs of transformation or influence.

V. Recommendations and Conclusions

A. Destroy

VI. Approval and Acknowledgment

A. Submitted By:Helen X
B. Approved By:Elias Bouchard _

Note: This report is subject to ongoing investigation, and updates will be provided as new information becomes available.

VII. Final Notes:

In the ever-expanding collection of supernatural accessories, The Rotskin makes a rather lackluster appearance onstage. A disposable face mask, apparently aiming for a brief glimpse of the limelight before inevitably becoming obsolete. One might wonder if it misunderstood eternal chic, for its self-imposed curse seems overdramatic for an item with such a fleeting lifespan.

Once the darling of the Corruption Couture scene, it is now relegated to the bargain bin of supernatural artifacts. It clings desperately to the wearer's face, as if afraid of being forgotten, while attempts to teleport between potential victims only underscores its apparent lack of purpose.

In the annals of cursed accessories, The Rotskin's journey is more risible than sinister. Perhaps it harbors dreams of eliciting gasps of horror, but reality paints a different picture. The more one wears it, the more it seems like an accessory desperately seeking relevance. The mask's supposed power is almost comical in its efforts to be taken seriously.

So the diva of disposable masks ought to be condemned to the clearance section of supernatural fashion. It may have thought it was destined for greatness, but in the grand tapestry of mystical allure, it's little more than a temporary eyesore, a comedic footnote in the vast catalog of the arcane.