Chapter Text
My name is Charles Grainson, I’m a.. I suppose I was a researcher for the SCP Foundation and this is my final report before they officially-officially kick me out or maybe just lock me in. It details the events of Incident-TG-ORG from the point of view of both a player and lone survivor, though I wouldn’t be surprised if the big wigs are lying to me for security purposes. I can’t be the only survivor, right?
Anyways, back on topic, it all started on [REDACTED], I was going on my rounds in heavy containment. It sounded dangerous, it sounded fun when I signed up for it, bunch of excitement and thrill. Turns out it was just going around, checking boxes, writing dates on papers, all the sort of stuff that the big wigs passed off to interns and- Ok I get that it's work that needs to be done but it was boring. So when my eyes got caught on a shiny metal dog tag I saw on the ground, I was ready for an adventure to return it to whatever custodian or guard lost it. A fun side quest, ya know? And I was already ahead on my tasks so why not?
It was instant, reader. Instantly, I knew that I was playing tag and that the person who tagged you couldn’t be immediately tagged back and I had to get rid of it. Those were the rules and I was ready. So I started walking up to this custodian guy, big bushy mustache, a bit ridiculous if you ask me, he was leaning against the wall, asleep and.. I don’t know how to put this but the rules changed as I walked up to him. This guy was sleeping, he couldn’t react. Where is the fun in that? That might be important to whoever is working on 2017’s file.
So I snuck it into the pocket of another researcher that was too stuck in his own head to pay attention to me. The game had begun and I was shaking with anticipation, I didn’t… I didn’t think about where it was going to end because I didn’t want it to end. The thought that I was under the influence of some anomaly didn’t even occur to me, all I knew was that this was going to be fun.