Cwazzy's Page 2: The Box
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You grab the door to your office and let out a long yawn. That meeting dragged on far longer than it needed to. "A human person can only listen to ramblings on expenditures for so long," you think to yourself. Your eyes begin to droop and your lab coat gets a little heavier on your shoulders. "Finally I can just screw around on the computer for a few hours, maybe get a nap." You push the door open.

You try to take a step into the dark office when your foot hits something. You look down and find a small cardboard box at your feet. You wonder briefly how you hadn't noticed it before, but chalk it up to poor perception due to your tiredness. You bend down and poke at the flaps in its top; a fair precaution given your line of work. You lift it up in your arms and inspect the sides, searching for any sort of marking. You find none. You look to your left and to your right, looking for its owner and again find none. You come to the conclusion that it must have been left for you, and take it inside.


You set the box down on your desk and stare at it, perplexed. You weren't expecting any sort of delivery, nor do you know of someone who might've left it for you. You consider the possibility that it's some sort of prank, like a glitterbomb package. You suppose there's only one way to find out. You pull out a drawer in your desk and fumble around in it, shoving various office supplies back and forth. You finally pull out a pair of scissors that hadn't seen use in at least a month. You cut the packaging tape and the flaps come loose. You set the scissors down on your desk and open the flaps, peering inside.

There's a stack of manila folders inside the box, and a single printed note on clean white printer paper. You pull it out and read it briefly…


Hey Boss,

I quit.

-Cwazzy


You are a level 3 researcher, and are most definitely not anyone's boss. You're more puzzled than before now; all of the "bosses" offices are in a different part of the bureaucratic wing. Your office isn't even one of prominence. If they had left it on the delivery table up front or at one of the offices by the entrance to the wing, that would be excusable, but instead it was somehow mistakenly left by the office in the back, by the bathrooms. Weird. You look back into the box and pull out a stack of folders. You inspect the folders themselves closely and skim their contents quickly.


The first folder, labelled "Previous Work," seems to be consist of various SCP articles, each with a somewhat campy "title" scrawled at the top. There's a note on the back of each, apparently author commentary. There's not much discernible relation between them, besides having apparently been created by the owner of the box, this "Cwazzy" person, whoever that is. How the hell do you even pronounce that anyway? Is it "qu-ay-zee" or "qu-ah-zee?"

Regular Files

SCP-5696 - "One Last Ace." - This appears to detail a firearm that, when reloaded in an oddly specific manner, transports the user to a pocket dimension where they're subjected to a game of cards. It seems as though the setting of the pocket dimension is somewhere in the prohibition era, as if it ripped a moment out of time, and the other persons within it seem almost like real people.

SCP-6606 - "Spectrum Says" - Where the previous article was a couple pages, this is a rather thick stack of documents. You look over the first couple pages and the formatting is all wrong. Somebody has filled in the first page with a description of an individual rather than a SCP, and the addendums are all document formats you don't recognize, written by some organization called "Spectrum." They read as if the individual has been enslaved, almost, and forced to fill out all this paperwork, even if he doesn't know what he's doing. Weird, even for this place.

SCP-7043 - "Murphy Law in... Skip 7043 - THE MONTAUK FALCON!" - This one's big. There's what feels like a hundred pages worth of documents here. You flip to a page somewhere in the middle. Its formatting is unusual - it reads like a film script, but with far more verbal flourishes. The main character of the "film" is this "Murphy Law" guy. He's a detective, you think. The entire thing has this noire tonality to it. Funny, you could swear you'd heard of him before.

SCP-6605 - "Asteroidea" - This one is about… a severed foot? A severed foot that is evidently still alive. It's very short. You could probably read the entire thing right now in five or six minutes or so. The length is in such contrast to the previous file that you feel somewhat let down, and yet, a sense of intrigue still cultivates in your mind. Why is this foot still alive, and what's the deal with the D-Class who lost it?

These next few seem to be vaguely related, actually. They both detail a group known as the "M.O.M." Mom. Kind of a funny acronym. You set these in a separate stack, and mentally you label them as

M.O.M. Files

SCP-6610 - "Dial-Up Drama" - This one seems to detail a fax machine recovered after a raid. An IT guy inspects it and finds it can sort of command people to do things based on what it prints, but the aforementioned group seems to be using it as part of an outdated communication method. Nothing about that is terribly unusual, but the object class of "Uncontained" has you mildly intrigued.

SCP-6647 - "Forget-Me-Too" - This appears to detail a bottle of perfume that makes its user imperceptible and forgotten about for ten minutes. It doesn't seem to have been tested very much, but it was used in a break-in gone awry, followed by an apparent break-out. How you didn't hear about this is alarming - it looks fairly action-packed, not that a break-out isn't concerning in its own right.

SCP-6628 - "Some Time Apart" - Another M.O.M. article. These people might just be a problem. It starts as a simple man trapped in a time anomaly, but as the interviews go on, the poor researchers get more distressed by how little they know of the origin. The problem is those magicians, always there, covering their own tracks, taking whatever they damn well please through a series of parlor tricks… although, this one, the ending of it… this sounds more like a massacre.

You put the documents back inside and set the folder down on your desk, then look back into the box.

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