Another useless day at work. He had more important stuff to do, sure, but he just couldn't help himself from looking at all these anomalies. Gary had grown to love the supernatural, whether it be Bigfoot, The Loch Ness Monster, or plain yetis, he loved them all. He was a cryptologist, and even cracked the Zodiac killer's, but that wasn't enough for him. He joined the FBI; but it still didn't make him feel whole. But, as years passed, he had caught word of a secret government organization, the spc? After hearing about what they do, (and finally spelling it as "scp") He joined as soon as he could. He was ecstatic, but suddenly, he had heard from the main desk that he was gonna be moved to the middle of nowhere. This was heartbreaking for him, as he had to cut ties with his wife and kids. If he could turn back time to be a cyphertologist, he would. But, here he is, studying weird creatures in the middle of nowhere, a cold place. As he was taking notes on a fascinating creature, his name was called. "Gary Hartwell Smith, please report to your living quarters," the lady from the intercom said. over and Over and OVER again. He walked past, but he saw some new faces around here. was about time, as this vacation was going to be the first time he's seen their kids since they were 6 and 3. oh, a woe-some 29 years wasted. But this was it. the last time he was gonna be yelled at for the next 3 months. As he entered the office, he... saw party tape? and goodbye gifts? he was gonna leave for three months, not quit!
"What's all this about?"
"We're just wishing you a happy 3 months!"
He enjoyed the gesture, and played along with it.
After the party was over, that night, as Gary was packing, something blocked his door. he couldn't tell what, but he was trapped. Locked in. He banged on the door, but nothing happened. He called for help. Nothing happened. Gary tried calling the emergency hotline, but it was out of service. He wanted to break through the wall, but this was a high security building, not his kids cardboard castles...
...His kids.
HELP ME! KIDS? SAMANTHA? IT'S ME, GARY! PLEASE, SOMEBODY!
He laid on the floor, and cried himself to sleep.
all he could do was pray.