Chapter Text
You hear the scream first.
Piercing and loud, it echoes through the forest. Instinctually, your head whips around to search for its source.
“What is it?” your friend asks.
The others stop as well, looking at you expectedly for answers.
“You’re telling me you didn’t just hear that?” you ask.
Your friend shakes their head. “Must just be an animal.”
The others turn to continue their hike, but you’re shaken. You definitely heard someone scream. The wind carried its echo through the trees. The weight of it is carried in your mind, but you continue to hike.
“Hey, check this out,” one of your friends says.
You follow their gaze which lands upon a barbed wire fence. “What’s this doing here?”
“I don’t know. Don’t remember it ever being put up.”
A decrepit sign nearby reads: TURN BACK NOW. There’s a break in the fence and one of your friends slips through.
“Where are you going? We should turn back,” you say.
“Relax, it’s probably just a prank.”
“This seems too elaborate for a prank,” you argue.
Your other friends don’t seem to mind and continue onwards. You cave, following the crowd as you continue hiking.
The further you walk, the colder it gets. First, you noticed your breath. You lick your dry lips, suddenly feeling the chilly bite on the bit of moistened skin. The area is littered with various warning signs and plastic, yellow caution tape.
“I have a bad feeling. We should turn back,” you protest. Remembering the screams from before, you feel more urgent in your plea. “Hey!” you yell to the group ahead of you.
They promptly ignore you. “Hey, check this out,” one says.
Your group approaches a large privacy fence. Signs cover the wooden wall, shielding you from the view of the other side. The mystery starts to pull you in, but the echoes of fear plaguing your brain is enough to pull you right back out.
DROWNING
KEEP OUT
NO SWIMMING
YOU DO NOT RECOGNIZE THE BODIES IN THE WATER
Your heart is beating rapidly in your chest. The cold air feels suffocating, and you feel your lungs burning.
One of your friends manages to climb a nearby tree. They’re now looking over the privacy fence to get a peek of the other side.
“I think I see something?” they say. “Or maybe, someone?”
Help me, it whispers.
“You think you see someone?” another friend asks.
“Yeah, swimming in the lake behind the fence.”
“But these signs say ‘no swimming’?”
“Wait, they seem kinda familiar?”
Help.
“I can see more of them. Hey, come check this out.”
Come to us.
“Fuck that, I’m not climbing a tree. Get down, there’s no one in the water.” your friend says.
The person in the tree looks visibly distraught. “No, I definitely know them. I think I can see my dad?”
Come to us. Come to us.
“Hey, we gotta help them! I think they’re drowning!” Your friend climbs down from the tree, hastily rushing over to the fence.
They begin a poor attempt to climb the wooden barrier.
The air grows colder. Your body shivers as your visible breath swirls in your vision.
You have to help us!
The voices are louder. You don’t know where they’re coming from. Your friends aren’t speaking those words.
No.
They’re trying to stop your tree climber friend from going over the fence. “Get down!” one of them yells.
Help us.
Save us. You have to come to help us us.
Go into the lake. Look into our eyes. You recognize us.Summerof75wetookatriphere. Save us. Come to us. Come be wi--us. Save us. You can join help us. W̴e̸ ̵c̴a̶n̸ ̴s̸t̴a̷y̵ ̴h̵e̴r̵e̶ ̴t̸o̸g̵e̵T̴h̸e̵r̴.̸ ̶B̷u̵t̷ ̷0̷n̸l̸y̷ ̶1̴f̵ ̸y̴0̶u̴ ̷s̴@̴v̷e̶ ̴h̴e̴l̴p̷ ̶u̶s̷.̸H̸3̵1̵p̴ ̴u̵s̵.̸ ̶H̶e̸l̸p̴ ̸u̷s̵.̵ ̴H̶e̵l̶p̷ ̷u̵s̸.̶ ̵H̶e̵l̸p̶ ̵u̸s̴.̵ ̴H̶3̵l̶p̸U̵s̷.̴ ̴. ̷̢̖̞̟͖̯̉͆͂́̍C̴̛͖̳̭̯̜̹̾͘ó̶̤͓̪̩̺̌̐̀̏̆m̶̢͈̞̘̣̔͂É̶̖́͜ ̶̧̭͈̯͓̭̺̔͐̎̉̽̓ṯ̴̡̨̡̜̝̩͐̍̓̓͆̕̕ŏ̷͚͝ư̵̛͓̱͖ṣ̶̛̈̍̎̈́.̵̡̩͒̔C̵̳͉͂0̸̨͈̯͚̩̻͂͘͝ͅm̴̢̠̭̮̖͎̜̔͝ę̸̔͌̑̀̈́̂͑ ̷̡̺̣̬̦̂́̈́͜ͅĩ̷̘̕ǹ̸͇̮̣̰̤͊́ ̸̬̫͕̀̕ͅt̴̡́̍̿ḫ̴̿̈́͒͆͐ë̶̡̦̗͎͕̬̯́̔͆͂͑ ̴̡̺͉̤̈́̅̾̀͝w̵̫͊̈́ͅḁ̸̧̬͉͇͊́̎͘̚͝t̸̖̙͐͛͆ę̷͚͚̱̈́̿̔̄̋͝͝r̴̸̡̙͖̫̖̫̬̼͖̬͉̭͉̿̌͌̏͆̓̓͘͢͝.̴̧̼̥̃̿͜ D̴̛͎͎͍̖͓̰̅͆̈̆͝ơ̸̡̼̯̪̙͇̻̥͈̬̞͙͍̜͙̱͎̿̈́͛͌̋̏̀́̽̇͊͆̑͠͠ ̸̺̼̹̳͚̼́͒̀ỹ̸̥̼̮͂̒̃̿ơ̵̪̠̼̳͚̥̊̓͌̋̀͑̿͊͛̏͑̂͝͝͝ų̴͎̫̖͔̭͉͍̾͛̋̑̽̆̆͊̅̚͘̕͝ ̶̡̝̦̞̫̮͎̞͚̈́̈́̃́̽͘͠r̶̢̡̬̘͕̗̯̮̗̟̙͇̼̍̂̈́̓́̾͊̀̍̋̓̌̚͜͝͝͝é̸̗͙̬̩͍͓͙͓̻̭͊̂̇̆́̅̓c̸̨̧̨̨͇̖̬̘͇̠̄̈̑͛̍̊͒̀͌͒̐̅̆́̿̐͝ͅo̶̡̧̡͙̺̦̦͍̬̮͔̠͙̩͙̫̅͘ģ̵̧̱̩̥̜͕͖͖́̕n̸̛͍̻̞̙͎͑͛̋̎̔̿̏̈́̔̒̈͂̂͝í̶̯̂̊̅̀̃̿̊̽̐̇̒͘͝z̸͓͕̺̜̗̱̘̫̱̗͖̈́̏̔̋̌͗̏͌̾̚͝ȇ̴͈̅̌̐̽̉̒͐̔͌̕ ̸̨̡̲̱̝͉͋̊͛̈́̏̆̄̇͝t̸͙̣̻͗̃̎͌̾̿́͊̓͂̉́͑̐̕̚̚ĥ̵̙͙̗̜̜͗͑͋͋̐̋͘͝͝͠e̵̳̟̘̟͖̟͍͇̦͖̹̩̓̄̒ ̵̗̺͔͇̣̺͎̫̣̰̆́̄̒̎͐̄̐̆̐͆̽͐̍̕̕͠b̷̙̮̰͍͙̠͎̘̬͈̼͍̱͇̣̐͛̒̾̓̓͌̇̊̕ơ̵̼̦̍̈́̓̍̓͐̈͌̃̀́̅͆̆͘̚d̴̨̟̙̤̦̻̮̟̣̥̤̩̀͋̑̑̿͊̐̓̾̋̔̀ͅḯ̷̢̛͖͕̬̦̻̼̖̩̯͇̹̿̌̀̃̈́̈́̔͊͒̿̓̇̆͘͝ḛ̷̺̠̪͚̝͓̱̐̔̈́͒̎̌̒̃̇̎͠s̶̖̝̖̦̼̲̐̍̒̊̕͝ ̵̡̡͍͚͚̗̟̠̟̟͈͓͎̹̓͐͑̊͆̋̈́̓͂͝͠i̴̞̣̯̺̤͍̩̺͎̹̳͑͛̒͂̇̌̀̆̑̕͜͝n̵̡̖̯̬̬̣̬̘̑ ̵̹̥͚̟̱̤̙͎̜̼̆̔̾̈́̈̓͋̇̊̃̎̑̕͜ṭ̷̢̧̤͉̻͙̪̼͕̻̱͖̘̇̊͋̃͜͝ḧ̷̛͖͖̰͚͚̦̰̜̗̹̗̬͚̭̥̟́͌̋̑̉̀̃̓͑̇͂̈̚̕͠ͅȩ̷̢͍͚̜͇͙͚͈̩̭͍͙̀̔̈̃̐̉̑̈́̍̄͜ ̴̨̢̧̺̞̮̱̞͎̤̼̻̝͈̹̺̇̇̐́̓͜w̴̻͈̙͚̖͙̣̌͐̈a̶̢̢͉̜͇̹͉̹̙̗̭͉̬̞̓̽̊̎̀̅̃̐̎̔͐̚̕͝͝ͅͅͅt̷̼̳̫̺͈̗͇͙͎͋͒̌͋̆̔͐͋͌̽̆̄̌̆̀ĕ̸̢̫͉͕̩̪̘͇͔̯͔͇͕̩̩̗̩̀̓̍̈r̸̢̧͈͚̒?̶̛̛͍͓̾͒̿̿͛̽̒͌͐͗̂̓͝
A heavy hand lands on your shoulder.
Your mind is swiftly brought back to the chaos of the present. People in biohazard suits and strange helmets restrain your friends. Looking up, you’re met with one of these strangers as well. Rough hands hoist you onto your feet, dragging you away from the scene. You’re shoved into the back of a large van. Before the doors close, you get one last glimpse of your friend as they successfully finish scaling the large fence.
You watch in slow motion as they slip over the top, falling to the other side.
You’ll never see them again, you realize, as the doors of the van shut, leaving you in complete darkness.
You’re unsure of when you passed out, but when you come to, you find yourself in a dimly lit room. Your head feels heavy and your mouth is dry. The cold metal of the chair you’re sitting in seeps through your pants. That’s when you notice that your arms are restrained to the sides of the chair.
You take a deep breath to clear your head and take in as many of your surroundings as you can. Aside from the metal chair, there’s an old television on the far end of the room directly across from you.
The screen flickers to life and a video plays. The voice over is deep and ominous. It doesn’t seem like it was recorded by a person.
“Repeat the following phrase loudly and clearly: ‘I do not recognize the bodies in the water’.”
You sit silently, confused as to what is going on.
The voice on the video speaks again. “Repeat the following phrase loudly and clearly: ‘I do not recognize the bodies in the water’.”
Clearing the lump in your throat, you ask, “What’s going on?”
“The phrase you have entered was not recognized. Repeat the following phrase loudly and clearly: ‘I do not recognize the bodies in the water.”
After a moment of hesitance, you finally answer, “I do not recognize the bodies in the water.”
There’s a pause, then the video continues, glitching as the voice speaks. “Warning, the following file contains classified information. This cognitive influence screening will determine if you do or do not recognize the bodies in the water. To continue the screening, repeat the following phrase: ‘I do not recognize the bodies in the water’.”
Albeit confused, you repeat the phrase again.
After another pause, the video continues. “If at any point you recognize the bodies in the water, shut down your device immediately.”
The video cuts to a clip of a lake.
It seems normal, although the surface of the water is completely still. It’s unsettling, no standing body of water should be that still. After what feels like several minutes, your eyes detect movement on the screen. A mass appears in the water.
More of these unidentifiable masses continue to appear, floating to the surface of the lake. They look like corpses.
You feel bile rising in your throat and you look away from the screen. Whatever it is that you’re watching looks like something out of a horror film.
The video cuts again. More text appears on the screen.
“Confirm now if you do not recognize the bodies in the water.”
You repeat the code and the video cuts out.
Fluorescent lights flick on, blinding you as you squint. A sharp pain stabs through your head, and you blink away the sudden migraine.
A man in a suit walks into the room.
“You’ve passed the cognitive influence screening, however, we will need to quarantine you to monitor your symptoms. Foundation personnel thank you ahead of time for your cooperation,” he says.
Before you have a chance to ask what’s going on, the man leaves. When the door is shut, you hear a distinct click. A red light above the door turns on.
There’s only silence, then a barely audible hiss is heard.
A dense fog fills the room, causing your heart to race.
You yell for help.
You yell for it to stop.
Until you feel the tug of the darkness pulling you back under.
Your whole body feels heavy, even making it difficult to open your eyes. After some effort, you manage to open them, blinking away the heavy sleep. Your mind still feels hazy, and confusion fills you.
The small room that you’re now in is very different from the one before. You notice that the walls and floor are made of metal. There’s a small cubicle with a showerhead, sink, and toilet on the adjacent wall. You’re sitting on a cot with white linens, a thin white blanket rests at the foot of the bed.
You place your feet on the ground, and after a moment, you find the strength to stand.
At the other end of the room is a simple table and chair. On its surface, is a microphone and button. A folder labeled SCP-2316 SYMPTOM MONITOR GUIDE.
You flip through the folder’s contents:
The quarantined individual is responsible for monitoring their own symptoms. More information on symptoms can be found on page 8. The individual is responsible for submitting their results twice a day: once upon waking in the morning, and once before going to sleep. Failure to submit results can lead to another full cognitive influence screening.
To submit results, press the button and speak the following phrase slowly and clearly into the microphone: “I do not recognize the bodies in the water”.
You flip further through the guide, rapidly scanning its pages and trying to wrap your head around what has happened.
Remembering the instructions, you press the button for the microphone. You clear your throat, trying to steady your nerves as you speak.
“I do not recognize the bodies in the water.”