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Chapter 1: What happens when Agent Marshall encounters Mouse in Bellamy?
Tapping his ear, Agent Marshall leans around the corner of the building, trying to get eyes on Agents Blanchard and Gordon. Sound off. Agent Marshall calls over comms. Give me your positions.
Stop. Just stop.
Agent Blanchard calls back. Man, you were letting this whole mission lead thing go to your head. Agent Gordon adds. Come on, guys. We've got to make the best of this, right? Agent Marshall says. You both know that this is a shit assignment. It got dumped in our laps because some senior agents didn't feel like driving 16 hours to investigate some homeless guy harassing folks here in...
Where are we again? Bellamy, Blanchard replies. Bellamy, great place. So far, I've seen two dogs humping and a pack of teens walking down the sidewalk, all of them staring down at their phones. Yep, a real live wire of an assignment. Did you read the brief, Marshal? Gordon asks. Yes, I read the brief. Marshal responds. Most of it, at least.
Jesus Christ, Marshal, how did you get mission lead again? Blanchard asks, laughing. Couldn't have anything to do with you being Dr. Marshall's kid, could it? Hey, I'm calling BS right there. Marshall snaps. My mother had nothing to do with this. I earned mission lead. Yeah, sure. You guys suck. Marshall sighs. Okay, I didn't read the whole brief. You stopped when it mentioned dreams, didn't you?
Blanchard asks. What's that mean? Gordon asks. Marshall has a thing with dreams. Freaks him out. They do not! Marshall exclaims. Dude. Okay, a little bit. Dreams freak you out? Gordon asks. Why? Uh, my mother, the eminent scientist, liked to conduct little experiments on me as an adolescent. Jesus. Gordon clears his throat. Sorry, man. It's cool, but it just shows that I'm no nepo agent.
I sure as hell didn't ask for this assignment. The other two agents stay silent. I didn't. Christ, guys. Still silent. Then they start laughing. Whatever, you guys suck.
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Chapter 2: Why is Agent Marshall uneasy about the assignment?
Marshall looks up and down the street. Seriously, where are you two? Four shops down, leading in the doorway of the music shop, Blanchard says. Marshall squints against the sun. Even with his sunglasses on, the light is glaring and harsh. About to give up, he sees the tips of Blanchard's shoes sticking out from a small alcove in front of Percy's Music and Trade. Got you, Blanchard. Gordon?
I'm on the same side as you. Sitting on the bus stop bench, reading the local newspaper, Gordon says. Marshall leans out further, but doesn't see a bus stop bench. Other way, dumbass, Gordon says. Blanchard chuckles over comms. Greeting his teeth, Marshall turns the other direction and sees Gordon instantly. All right, got you too, Marshall says. Any sign of the anomaly? Instance, Gordon says.
The whole town is the anomaly, Marshall. I know that, Gordon. Thanks for the heads up. Well, you are referring to SCP-8188-A as the anomaly when it's only an instance. Maybe the town is the anomaly, maybe. That's why we're here. The brass wants us to sort it out once and for all to see if Bellamy itself is the issue, or if this instance is actually the entire anomaly.
You two done bitching at each other like middle school girls? Blanchard asks with a laugh. And to answer your initial question, Marshal, no, we haven't seen the anomaly or instance or whatever it is. If SCP-8188-A were here, we'd report. Hey, I'm just trying to keep us all alert and awake. Marshal yawns.
Chapter 3: What is the significance of dreams in the SCP-8188 investigation?
I freaking hate stakeouts. Same. Agreed. The comms go silent as the three agents wait at their posts, watching the street, hunting for the instance while trying to look like they are definitely not Foundation agents on a stakeout. Blinking to keep the late afternoon drowsiness at bay, Marshall leans a shoulder against the brick building that makes up one half of the alleyway he's staked out in.
The brick is old and rough, and he can feel it through the old sweatshirt he's wearing. It leaves the assignment, allows them to dress down instead of having to don the black suits that Foundation agents typically wear out in the field. Marshall knows why he and the other two were assigned the mission. It wasn't hard to figure out. He didn't even need to run it by his doctor mother.
They are the three youngest looking agents on site. Marshall can barely grow a beard. Blanchard could easily go undercover at a high school and not even get noticed as the new kid. And Marshall can't count how many times Gordon still gets asked to show his ID when they go out for drinks.
As for the whole Nepo agent accusation, Marshall got mission lead only because he happened to be getting coffee at the same time as the assistant director. He didn't ask for it, doesn't really want it, but it wasn't like he could say no to the person who was second in command of the entire site. That's what he told himself at the time.
Of course, a conversation with his mother revealed most of the truth, a truth he won't share with the others. On my three, Gordon announces, pulling Marshall from his thoughts. Rowdy looking hoodie, could be our guy. Marshall leans out just enough to get a view of the man walking toward the bus stop bench. Stay sharp, he calls over comms. Don't spook him.
He's not the one to worry about getting spooked, Blanchard says. Don't piss yourself, Gordon. Already freaking har har har, asshole, Gordon says before he stiffens, then relaxes as the guy in the hoodie approaches the bus stop bench, looks about for a moment, then sits down. Just say the word, Gordon, Marshall says.
Gordon doesn't respond, but Marshall catches just the hint of a head nod from him. The guy in the hoodie shifts about on the bench for a moment. Then he reaches up and pulls his hoodie down so he can ruffle his hair, his bright red hair. Not our guy, Marshall calls. Wrong hair color. Damn it, Blanchard says. Sit tight, Gordon, Marshall orders. Maybe 8188A will show up because of this kid.
He doesn't look more than 17. Yeah, we'll see, Gordon says, causing the redhead to turn and frown at him. Sorry, on a business call. The redhead nods, smiles, shrugs, then scoots as far down the bench as he can get without going off the edge. making friends like usual, eh, Gordon? Blanchard laughs. A bus pulls up and the redhead gets on. Gordon waves the driver off and the bus drives away.
Marshall yawns. Screw this. I need a latte, he says, stretching his arms over his head. You guys want anything? Nope, I'm good. Moving out of the alley, Marshall looks up and down the quiet street, then jaywalks over to a coffee shop set between a yarn store and a store with a sign in the window that says shoe repair, even though the place looks completely deserted.
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Chapter 4: How does the team prepare for the dream experiment?
What happened to you, man? Senior year! Marshall shouts. Mouse doesn't turn around, only raises a hand goodbye in response. We're moving now, Blanchard says. I'll try to get ahead of him. I'll hang back and circle around if I need to, Gordon says. We might be able to box him in. Do not lose sight of him. Marshall whispers.
He tosses his latte into a trash can and follows Mouse, keeping a good 10-yard distance between them. He's moving toward an alley, Blanchard. I see it. Getting in position now. Marshall glances across the street and sees Blanchard hustling to get directly opposite the alley. Gordon, if he turns into the alley, you'll need to run your ass off and get to the other end, got it?
Already starting to do that. Good. Mouse turns into the alley. Marshall sprints down the sidewalk. You got him, Blanchard? I see him. He's walking toward the dumpster. Gordon? I'm running, man. Don't lose him.
I won't. He's going behind the dumpster!
Blanchard shouts as he runs across the street. Marshall watches as a car screeches to a halt, its horn blaring at Blanchard. Blanchard ignores the car and gets to the sidewalk just as Marshall reaches the mouth of the alley. The two agents skid to a halt.
Shit!
Blanchard shouts.
Where is he?
Marshall runs down the alley and stops at the dumpster. He checks one side, checks the other. No SCP-8188-A. Damn it, Marshall yells. How'd he slip us? It's what this instance does, Blanchard replies. Dematerializes as soon as he stops being observed. Gordon appears at the far end of the alley. He stops and puts his hands on his thighs as he bends over, breathing heavily.
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Chapter 5: What unexpected situation does Agent Marshall find himself in?
Marshall's eyes shoot open, and he lurches upright despite Blanchard still trying to hold him in place. His screaming doesn't stop. His eyes take everything in. Then they look down at the bed. Blanchard follows his gaze. Gordon does as well. The two men move back away quietly as Marshall holds up two bloody stumps where his hands used to be.
Marshall screeches, the words coming out garbled and broken.
Stop, please!
Blanchard's attention is drawn to the foot of the bed, where the end of the blanket is slowly darkening with blood. Right where Marshall's feet should have been, the blanket deflates. Gordon has his phone to his ear and is making the call. Control, this is Agent Gordon. We need to reclassify SCP-8188 immediately. He waits and nods, then lets out a small, frightened laugh.
Yeah, I think we're way past just a caution classification. Way past. Blanchard stares at Marshall, who is now slamming his bloody stumps against his head over and over.
Don't forget.
A voice whispers in Blanchard's ear. He spins, sees no one, then shakes his head and moves to the hotel room door. Yeah, I'll be outside. He says and leaves. Right behind you, Gordon says. The team will be here in 30. We should meet them outside. For sure. They glance at Marshall. Should we secure him? Gordon asks. He's not going anywhere. Blanchard replies as they both walk out the door.
He really should have read the whole brief.
The drawer closes, leaving Marshall to bludgeon himself over and over with his bloody stumps. Through his shredded vocal cords, he cries, Do you remember me, Mama?
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