Item: 8942
Containment Protocols: Item 8942 is currently held in a partitioned cell at Site-732. Item 8942 and its detritus are acidic hazards; all surfaces exposed to the Item must be protected from, inspected for, and cleaned of corrosion damage each week.
Item 8942 must be provided a basin of human-grade organic puree once daily, and a small pipe structure for use as a resting area. Personnel interacting with Item 8942 must attend monthly psychological counselling.
Item 8942/A is collectively stored in a filing cabinet in the unoccupied partition of the containment chamber; the organic components of Item 8942/A are preserved in a cryogenic storage dewar built into the lowermost drawer.
Description: Item 8942 was a human male approximately 190 cm in height and 57 kg in weight, who has been modified into a skinless invertebrate organism.
Excluding the nervous system, which has been modified to compensate for the brain being relocated into a synthetic, foam-like structure in the torso, and a series of rudimentary ear structures that enable the Item to detect sounds, all of the Item’s internal structures, sensory organs, and dermal layers have been replaced with muscle tissue, which secretes an acidic mucous enabling Item 8942 to absorb oxygen and nutrients directly from the environment.
The Item periodically attempts non-verbal communication, but lacks the necessary fine motor control and does not follow verbal instructions. The atypical brain configuration prevents direct psychic communication.
Item 8942/A is a collection of six items related to Item 8942:
- Two 15cm2 sections of excised skin, both with identical ‘Mr. Subject, from Little Misters® by Dr. Wondertainment’ tattoos, one with cryopreservation damage on discovery;
- A laboratory coat, dress shirt, pants, and shoes, with ‘Doctor’s Orders’ sewn into all tags.
Acquisition: On May 12, 2023, Foundation personnel embedded in a USPS undeliverable mail office discovered an envelope addressed to ‘the SCP Foundation’ by name only, with no return address. The following message, Document 8942/A, was enclosed within:
To the Wonderful People at the Foundation, I write this Wonderous Message.
I sincerely hope you are well, even despite our incessant disagreements these past 66 years. I know that a single message will not resolve our conflict after the events of '03 — but that is a subject to right another time. I reach out now requesting a temporary stop to our bickering, so we may resolve a significant problem developing under your nose and my own; one of little consequence now and probably beneath your notice, but a hill to overcome nonetheless, and better now than when it becomes dire.
I wish to bring to your attention Whateley Biotech, a private science institute founded 16 years ago or so, operating from 72 Strathconia Way, Calgary, Canada. Though you may know of them, I expect they are overlooked because of their miniscule stature; four published papers is the sum of their external accomplishments. Even I thought my hours would be better spent focusing elsewhere, but I have amply learnt from past experiences that caution rarely proves detrimental. The memo I received midday yesterday proved this true once again.
Whateley Biotech is not as new nor incompetent as it seems. Scrutiny will easily wear away the Mundane facade it hides behind; you will find the institute's founding doctors to be of particular interest — the familiar faces are still in charge there, and their orders have not changed much from their previous employment.
— W
Subsequent investigation identified multiple former employees of Prometheus Laboratories subsidiaries among the company’s founders, and found Whateley Biotech’s primary revenue source since 2008 was the production of artificially-grown organs; although genetically identical, the rate of production was deemed implausible without anomalous influence.
The company facility was raided on May 15, 2023, with resistance indicating prior awareness of the raid; the on-site databases were irreparably damaged, and an as-yet unknown anomaly escaped and injured multiple Whateley Biotech personnel during the conflict. Item 8942 was found roaming the facility; Item 8942/A were found on a desk in its room. The corresponding ‘Little Mister’ note has not been found.
Addendum I: Interview I
Interviewed: George Davidsson
Interviewer: Agent Reginald Falk
[BEGIN LOG - 15 MAY 2023, 16:12]
[George Davidsson is sitting at a metal desk in the centre of a bland, empty interrogation room; the left-hand side of his neck is covered by a large, lightly-bloodied bandage. He is uneasy, fidgeting with his hands and glancing around. He jumps when the door opens; Agent Reginald pauses in the doorway.]
Reginald: Oh, sorry. Always forget the echo these rooms have.
[Reginald closes the door and takes a seat opposite George, putting a manilla folder down and preparing a notepad.]
George: Look, I don’t - I don’t know what this is all about, but…
Reginald: It’s alright, Mr. Davidsson. I just want to ask you about your employer —
George: Everything was legal, I – I don’t know what you’re looking for but, I wasn’t involved…
Reginald: Please, sir, it’s alright. I know you want to stay out of trouble, and if you talk with me, I will personally make sure you get a fair deal out of this. Ok, Mr. Davidsson?
George: Look, I’m just a junior tech, alright? I just fetch coffees, help with the pharma —
Reginald: Pharmaceuticals, you mean?
George: Yes, pharma! The drugs, I just handle the - not illegal drugs, I mean, just - medical drugs, you know?
Reginald: Oh, I don’t know much about that sir, I wasn’t a very smart kid in chemistry – I’ll just take your word for it. Did you ever handle anything anomalous? You know, something a little magical, with a bit more oomph than normal?
George: Well - well yeah, but nothing major, you know? No superhero pills, just stuff like ectocytoline or hepta-oncazol.
[EXTRANEOUS INFORMATION REDACTED]
Reginald: Ok. Now it says here you had a container with you, during the raid —
George: Nyxotamine. Messes with light, or something – I was just delivering it to Dr. Vincenzza for his project. The one with the Little Mister.
[Reginald pauses.]
George: You know what I’m talking about, right? The Wondertainment guy?
Reginald: Yes sir, I do. Could you tell me about that project, please?
George: Well, uh, I don’t know much, it’s outside my wheelhouse, uh…
[A pause.]
Reginald: Anything would be quite helpful, Mr. Davidsson.
George: Right, right, uh… A-35 was the name, needed lots of Nyxotamine lately…
[A pause. George shrugs.]
George: I don’t know man. They’re testing on Subject so it must be something important, but that’s all I’ve got.
Reginald: … hold on, sir. You said the project is being tested on Mr. Subject?
[George nods. Reginald sits upright, resting a hand against his brow.]
Reginald: I’m a little confused, here. All the other Little Misters I know are all ‘limited edition’ – you know, the one-of-a-kind sort, unreplaceable. Isn’t it risky to experiment on him?
George: Well, it’s in the name, Mr. Subject. As in, test subject – you can reset him to new somehow, even bring him back to life if he dies. Saves time looking for new test subjects, and it’s ethical.
Reginald: Oh, I see. Now that makes sense. So you can do anything to him, and just change him back?
George: Yeah, exactly. But I don’t know how it’s done – I’ve only seen the results. You’d have to ask Dr. Vincenzza.
Reginald: So you’ve seen him? Between tests, when he’s back to normal?
George: Oh, uh, no, sorry. I’ve only seen him during tests - no point in visiting him otherwise.
Reginald: What do you mean?
George: He isn’t sapient. Or sentient, or - whichever it is. Moves and stuff, but it’s all just reactions and instincts, like an animal. Nobody’s home.
Reginald: Oh? That’s interesting…
George: … why? What’s…
[A pause.]
George: He… he isn’t sentient, right?
Reginald: I’m not sure, but some of the things he’s been doing don’t look like instincts.
[A long pause.]
George: …oh.
[Another pause.]
Reginald: I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to trouble you. I could be wrong - maybe it has something to do with something else he can do.
George: No, I don’t think…
[A pause.]
George: There were rumours of Alfonso having trouble with him, the Nyxotamine was supposed to help… maybe it was the Project, or… or maybe he was… starting to think…
[Another pause. Reginald nods.]
Reginald: Just one more thing – these Little Misters usually have a note with them. Do you know where it is?
[George shakes his head.]
George: No, I don’t… sorry. You’ll have to ask Alfonso.
[END LOG]
Addendum II: Notice from Marshall, Carter, & Dark
Approximately three hours after the Whateley Biotech raid, a civilian courier hand-delivered the following letter to Site-17.
To whom it may concern:
We here at Marshall, Carter, and Dark LLC. have been notified of your recent takeover of Whateley Biotech, and the acquisition of its personnel and assets.
One of the items you recovered, Mr. Subject (from Little Misters by Dr. Wondertainment), was on loan to Whateley Biotech; ownership was not transferred, and it remains the legal property of Marshall, Carter, and Dark LLC. The projects involving the item are also the property of Marshall, Carter, and Dark LLC by contractual agreement, and all information pertaining to them as well.
We are formally demanding the immediate return of all property in your possession belonging to Marshall, Carter, and Dark LLC, untampered and unaltered. This includes:
- Mr. Subject, from Little Misters by Dr. Wondertainment;
- All documents and information pertaining to and resulting from all projects and uses of the above mentioned item;
- All Whately Biotech personnel involved with and/or critical to the continuation and completion of Project A-35.
This property must be returned at your earliest convenience. A bill for housing, recovery, and transportation costs should be presented no more than 30 business days from the receipt of this message.
Sincerely,
Marshall, Carter, and Dark LLC.
Addendum III: Interview II
Interviewed: Dr. Alfonso Vincenzza
Interviewer: Agent Elsbet Le Vaine
Foreword: Dr. Vincenzza was found unconscious in the room for Item 8942 during the raid; they regained consciousness one hour prior to the interview.
[BEGIN LOG - 16 MAY 2023, 09:31]
[Dr. Alfonso Vincenzza is lying in bed in a single-patient recovery room, heavily bandaged; those covering the left-hand side of his neck are blood-soaked, and his exposed skin is severely scarred from acid burns. Agent Elsbet Le Vaine is sitting nearby at a small desk.]
Elsbet: Please identify yourself for the record.
[Alfonso lifts the name badge on his coat.]
Elsbet: Verbally, please Mr. Vincenzza —
Alfonso: You just did.
Elsbet: Please co-operate. What was your role at Whateley Biotech?
Alfonso: … senior biotechnician. Oversee a few of the projects.
Elsbet: Such as Mr. Subject, correct?
[A pause.]
Alfonso: Why?
Elsbet: Please answer the question —
Alfonso: No, I – this is ridiculous. I’ve just come out of a coma, my skull is pounding, and you want to interrogate me now? Can’t this wait?
Elsbet: That depends. Can you explain what gave you those injuries?
[A pause.]
Alfonso: No, I don’t remember.
Elsbet: Neither do the other three who have perfectly-matching neck gashes to yours, nor the seven whose concussions give identical MRI scans to yours. Neither can any of twenty-five others remember how they burnt their hands with acid in such a way to make your fingerprints 100% matches with each-other. Neither can we explain why, hours after the raid, someone will be minding their own business, and suddenly find half their face scarred beyond recognition.
[Another pause.]
Elsbet: Mr. Vincenzza, something you or your colleagues were working on has escaped. I’m sure it’s intelligent – the attacks feel strategically paced, and some are clearly intended to deter interaction between our groups – and I’m certain it has a grudge over whatever’s been done to it. Someone is going to get killed.
Alfonso: And you think Subject is doing it?
Elsbet: He’s anomalous, and in his position I’d want revenge too.
[Alfonso scoffs.]
Alfonso: If only he were so lucky. Do you know what he can do?
Elsbet: We know he resets. What else?
Alfonso: Nothing. Beyond resetting, he’s an ordinary, powerless human.
Elsbet: The Project A-35 modifications?
Alfonso: Irrelevant.
Elsbet: How can you be sure? What was the goal of the project?
Alfonso: I don’t know.
Elsbet: You don’t know, or you don’t —
Alfonso: It was outsourcing; we get a list of specifications, we make it work. We don’t know what they’re for.
Elsbet: Can you tell me how to reset Mr. Subject, to be sure?
[A pause.]
Elsbet: Mr—
[Alfonso holds up a finger. Another pause.]
Alfonso: Something about the tattoo. I don’t remember.
Elsbet: You said Mr. Subject was an ordinary human once reset. Does that include consciousness? Self-awareness?
Alfonso: Yes.
Elsbet: And memories?
[Alfonso turns to one side.]
Alfonso: … yes.
Elsbet: Does its memories —
Alfonso: Persist across resets, yes.
Elsbet: Has its memories ever been erased?
[Alfonso scoffs, turning back to Elsbet.]
Alfonso: What about the word ‘reset’ is unclear? Every alteration is undone, every addition purged, everything missing replaced. Any attempt at permanent change is a waste. We don’t even bother with anaesthesia.
[A pause. Elsbet looks up from her notes.]
Elsbet: It doesn’t feel pain?
Alfonso: He does.
[A pause.]
Alfonso: The doses wear off the moment he resets – it’s better off used on an actual human being.
Elsbet: And he isn’t?
Alfonso: He’s a toy. A tool. It’s in the name, ‘Mr. Subject’ – his purpose is to be a test subject. He isn’t a patient, he doesn’t need to be happy, he just needs to be useable.
Elsbet: But he’s conscious. Aware.
Alfonso: Yes.
[Another pause.]
Elsbet: To be clear —
Alfonso: When we work on him, he is awake, and aware, and rational. We tie him down, we keep him alive if we can, and we do our work. Because that is his purpose.
[A long pause.]
Alfonso: Don’t give me that look. You people are no better – you only want to reset him so you can use him, see how much he can take, or see what some other anomaly can do to him. You think what we’re doing is horrible? How are you any better?
Elsbet: That isn’t —
Alfonso: And for that matter, what about Dr. Wondertainment? She made Mr. Subject for this exact purpose, to be cut open and harvested and suffer, and for twenty damn years they haven’t lifted a finger to stop it. But no, you can’t blame someone for not acting, can you?
[Agent Elsbet tosses a copy of Document 8942/A onto Alfonso’s lap.]
Alfonso: What’s…
[Alfonso picks up the note and reads. Their eyes widen.]
Alfonso: Wonder…
Elsbet: They’ve acted.
[A silence. Alfonso continues reading.]
Alfonso: I… I didn’t think he’d intervene, over Mr. Subject of all things…
[Another pause. Alfonso hands the document back to Elsbet.]
Alfonso: But this changes nothing. We both know you people are insatiable hoarders – you intend to keep him to yourself, for your own study, your own experiments, and his suffering will continue. Aren’t I right?
[A pause. Elsbet sighs and nods, offering a copy of Document 8942/B. Alfonso reads it and scowls.]
Alfonso: You’ll meet their demands? Act like the mighty Foundation can’t fight some mouldy gentry, that the suffering of one is better than your own?
[Elsbet doesn’t respond. Alfonso tosses the note to the floor.]
Alfonso: Cowards. Take me back to Calgary.
Elsbet: We are still organising —
Alfonso: Now. I know the way, and have a claim to make with Goldbaker. I’m not showing up to Marshall and Carter like this.
[A pause.]
Elsbet: I will discuss with my superiors.
Alfonso: You do that. Oh! I just remembered.
[Alfonso retrieves a small, folded note (Document 8942/C) from the inner pocket of his coat, and gives it to Elsbet.]
Elsbet: How long—
Alfonso: Don’t remember. Turn off the light – it’s giving me a migraine.
[A pause. Agent Elsbet pockets the note and leaves the room. The lights remain on.]
[END LOG]
Addendum IV: Document 8942/C
Wow! You’ve just found your very own New Little Mister, a brand new limited edition collection from Dr. Wondertainment!
Help them heal to be Mr. Helpful!!
01. Mr. Leaf
02. Mr. Present (discontinued)
03. Mr. Shadows
04. Mr. Matches
05. Mr. Watches (discontinued)
06. Mr. Ties & Mrs. Suits
07. Mr. Skin
08. Mr. Bone
09. Mr. Subject ✔
10. Mr. Yawn
11. Mr. Tears
12. Mr. Fish
13. Mr. (Coming Soon!)
14. Mr. (Coming Soon!)
15. Mr. (Coming Soon!)
16. Mr. (Coming Soon!)
17. Mr. (Coming Soon!)
18. Mr. (Coming Soon!)
19. Mr. (Coming Soon!)
20. Mr. (Coming Soon!)
Fill every day with wonder and glee! - Dr. Wondertainment
Addendum V: Interview III
Interviewed: Oswald Harrold Whateley
Interviewer: Agent Reginald Falk
[BEGIN LOG - 16 MAY 2023, 15:25]
[Oswald Whateley – uninjured – is sitting at the desk in the interrogation room, leaning back with his arms folded and scowling. He briefly glances at Agent Reginald as they enter.]
Reginald: Afternoon, Mr. Whateley. Do you want a drink? A coffee?
[No response.]
Reginald: It’s no trouble, and the cafeteria makes a good cup, all things considered.
[No response. Reginald sits down.]
Reginald: So, Mr. Whateley - do you mind if I call you Oswald?
[No response.]
Reginald: Alright. Mr. Whateley, I understand your anger —
Oswald: I doubt that.
Reginald: — but you have to understand, it’s too dangerous for anomalies to be roaming free —
[Oswald slams his fists on the desk.]
Oswald: Like hell it isn’t, half your damn staff are anomalous, and the other half don’t give a damn about them going out in public!
Reginald: Calm down, Mr. Whateley —
Oswald: No! I’m sick of you people tromping around like you’ve got some God-given right to just take whatever you want! I have to make sure my people are paid what they deserve, and unlike you I can’t just pull money out of my arse whenever I need it!
Reginald: Look, I understand –
Oswald: No, you clearly do not, because if you did we’d be back to work already, instead of sitting around losing millions by the hour, talking to moralistic idiots like you!
[A long pause.]
Reginald: How much do you owe?
[A pause. Oswald slumps, burying his face in his hands.]
Oswald: More. Always more.
Reginald: How much, and to who?
Oswald: Everything to every_one_ who’s so much as glanced our way. Rent, power, equipment, licenses, insurance… that damn test subject from MCD alone costs fifty thousand an hour.
Reginald: This is Mr. Subject you’re referring to, correct?
[Oswald glares at Reginald.]
Reginald: I’m just – nevermind. If he is such a drain, why not just give him back?
Oswald: We can’t. Five-year contract. We can’t afford the alternatives either – volunteers are expensive, or too contaminated to be useful. It’s him, or collapse.
[Oswald leans back in his seat.]
Oswald: Which is what’s going to happen now, because you’re going to take him and shove him in a box for a thousand years, aren’t you? Make it look like a lab accident so MCD is none the wiser?
[A pause. Reginald offers a copy of Document 8942/B; Oswald reads it.]
Oswald: Those… those bastards! They sent you, didn’t they?
Reginald: They weren’t involved —
Oswald: Like hell they aren’t, it’s only been hours since you hit us! The bastards have someone else lined up, so they sent you to break the contract, and they’ve got the damn audacity to poach my —
[Oswald pauses.]
Reginald: Poach what?
[Oswald glares at Reginald.]
Reginald: Mr. Whateley?
[Oswald drops the note and leans back in his seat.]
Oswald: Nothing. They’re right, everyone involved with the Subject projects, they’re all MCD people.
[A pause.]
Reginald: That doesn’t sound —
Oswald: They were helping, so we put them on the payroll. But they’re MCD. You can’t prove otherwise.
[Another pause. Reginald nods.]
Reginald: I understand. But – why are you working for Marshall and Carter?
[A pause.]
Oswald: What does MCD do.
Reginald: I believe they sell anomalies —
Oswald: That they have. When someone comes in with a suitcase full of gold and asks for something they don’t have, what would they do?
[Reginald nods.]
Reginald: Get you to create it.
Oswald: And pay. A lot.
Reginald: What did they want this time?
Oswald: Confidentiality clause, enforced with a geas. I can’t say.
Reginald: How do you reset Mr. Subject?
[Oswald crosses his arms.]
Oswald: I want a deal. You let us all go, then I show you.
Reginald: I’m not sure my superiors —
Oswald: I have more to offer. Twenty years of contracts, operations, products. Mr. Subject isn’t the only Little Mister I know of either.
Reginald: Such as?
Oswald: Deal first.
Reginald: That is a tempting offer, Mr. Whateley, but I’ll need evidence first.
[A long pause.]
Oswald: Those bodies down in Brazil, the ones with their skeletons removed - that was Mr. Bone. Our findings on Mr. Subject’s mutation might help with the others’.
Reginald: Mutation?
[No response.]
Reginald: The more you can give me, the more I can work with.
Oswald: These new Little Misters… I don’t know what Wondertainment did, but half of them are horrifically screwed up, and the other half were abandoned before completion. They’re desperate to clean up – I’ve received recall notices every week we’ve had Subject.
Reginald: You ignored them?
Oswald: A clause in MCD’s contract, and the geas enforces it. Too valuable to return, and Wondertainment would do more than send letters if they were serious.
[Reginald offers a copy of Document 8942/A; Oswald scoffs as he reads it, then tosses it back.]
Oswald: I got an email like that warning me of your raid a few minutes before it happened. Mine was signed ‘M’ – thought it was Marshall’s people, skipping the fancy paper for urgency.
Reginald: … interesting. We’ll need a copy of that message.
Oswald: Fine. Either way, I doubt yours came from the Doctor —
[Elsbet rushes into the room, straight over to Oswald.]
Elsbet: What was Subject’s mutation?
Reginald: Elsbet, what are you —
Oswald: I’m not saying any more —
Elsbet: Oswald, what was the mutation, and do his changes affect it?
[Oswald sits up, eyes wide.]
Oswald: Has he been reset?
Elsbet: No, he —
[Oswald swears, racing for the door.]
Oswald: Get me his note and his tattoo, quick. I told Alfonso to reset — get out of the way!
[Oswald struggles against a pair of guards blocking the doorway.]
Reginald: Mr. Whateley —
Oswald: He can subject you to his changes, that’s the mutation! If he’s still modified he can turn everyone around him to match, so get me his damn note and tattoo!
Reginald: You two, move! Elsbet —
[The guards part and the three rush out, sprinting throughout the facility, Elsbet in the lead; Reginald quickly falls behind and stops, breathing heavily.]
Elsbet: Why the hell would you keep experimenting on it —
Oswald: Alfonso said he had a medication dealing with it – I told him to reset before the raid, why the hell didn’t he do it?!
[The two enter the containment chamber of Item 8942; the Item, on the other side of a short partition, turns toward them. Elsebet retrieves the tattooed excisions and puts them on a metal table.]
Oswald: Why are there two?
Elsbet: I don’t know, it’s – here!
[Elsbet gives the original Document 8942/C to Oswald; he is staring wide-eyed at Item 8942.]
Elsbet: What are you doing?!
Oswald [mumbling]: Please be wrong, please be wrong, please…
[Oswald steps over to the desk, pressing the note against one of the tattoos, then doing the same with the other; on contact (at approx. 15:37), the second tattoo and the Document glow briefly. Elsebet and Oswald look to Item 8942, which is unchanged. Oswald pales, dropping the note.]
Elsbet: It didn’t work?
Oswald: It did, he…
Elsbet: But he hasn’t changed —
Oswald: That’s… that’s not Subject.
[END LOG]
Addendum VI: Aftermath
At 14:59, the entity self-identifying as Dr. Alfonso Vincenzza – Item 8942/B – was released from Foundation custody, with Agent Belowitz and Werski covertly following to monitor their activities.
[BEGIN LOG - 16 MAY 2023]
14:59: Item 8942/B is released at the Crowfoot Station bus transit, acquiring the time and $10 from the driver before departing. Agents Belowitz and Werski, parked nearby, exit their vehicle and follow.
15:05: Item 8942/B locates the information desk and requests a map of all public bus stops; once provided, they inquire about nearby food stores, and are directed north-east. Item 8942/B studies the map as they walk.
15:14: The Item enters a Tim Horton café, placing an order before taking a seat facing the shopfront windows and continuing to study the map. The agents places orders and sit nearby, feigning conversation. Other patrons repeatedly glance at the Item, or pointedly avoid looking at them.
15:18: Item 8942/B receives a medium coffee and bagel. They set aside their map, butter the bagel, then spend several minutes slowly consuming it and the coffee, savouring each mouthful; they eventually resume searching the map while continuing to eat.
15:26: Item 8942/B abruptly stands, dropping the map on the table. They stuff it into their pocket and immediately leave, powerwalking toward the bus station; the agents follow after a moment. The Item finishes its meal along the way, but squashes and pockets the cup instead of disposing of it.
15:28: The Item requests printed schedules for bus routes 40 and 138 (North & South). Once provided, Item 8942/B sits down to study them.
15:37: Item 8942/B sits upright and glows for three seconds; their clothes have been replaced with duplicates of Item 8942/A, however their bandages are still present. Werski reports this to Command as the Item departs north-east, still studying the schedules.
15:42: The Item stops, focuses on one schedule, then shreds and discards all three. They retrieve the transport map from their pocket, accidentally dropping a Tim Horton’s plastic butterknife as they do; they retrieve it and continue on, studying the map.
15:44: Item 8942/A discards the transport map, then procedurally removes and discards their bandages; their injuries are completely healed, and Belowitz spots a textual tattoo on the left-hand side of their neck, where the bandages had been bloodiest. Command orders the agents to apprehend the Item.
15:45: The Item abruptly stops and turns to face both agents, holding the butterknife in one hand; they do not match Dr. Vincenzza’s ID photograph. The following interaction occurs.
Item 8942/B: Leave me alone!
[Both agents stop.]
Belowitz: … what?
Item 8942/B: I know when I’m the subject of surveillance. I know you’re Foundation. I’m not going back!
[The two agents separate to flank the Item, each preparing to draw their concealed firearms.]
Werski: We can talk about this —
Item 8942/B: No! Marshall and Carter will butcher me for profit, Whateley will keep torturing me, and you bastards will lock me up for the fun of it! The whole lot of you can go to hell, and I’ll send you there if I have to!
[Both agents draw their firearms and slowly advance, forcing the Item back several steps; Werski’s camera is close enough for the tattoo to be legible as ‘Mr. Subject, from Little Misters® by Dr. Wondertainment’.]
Belowitz: Nobody needs to get hurt here. We can negotiate the terms —
Item 8942/B: Leave me alone, or die in agony. Those are my terms.
[Item 8942/B reaches into their coat; Werski aims, but Belowitz gestures not to shoot.]
Belowitz: We know you’re unarmed.
Item 8942/B: Are you sure?
[The Item pretends to draw a firearm from their coat, but are instead holding a copy of Document 8942/C. The agents flinch, but don’t fire.]
Item 8942/B: Last chance!
[Belowitz lowers his weapon and advances toward Item 8942/B. The Item howls and drives the plastic knife into their own left eye; both agents simultaneously shout in pain, covering their corresponding eye.]
Belowitz: Get him! Get the —
[Item 8942/B thrusts the knife into their other eye; Werski drops their firearm to cover both eyes, while Belowitz shifts their hand to the same effect and blindly charges at the Item.]
[Item 8942/B holds their Document against their tattoo, briefly glowing and immediately restoring their eyes; the knife falls to the ground, severed where it intruded into the Item. The Item sidesteps and trips Belowitz, sprints over to Werski to grab her handgun, then executes her with a headshot; Belowitz attempts to flee, but Item 8942/B knocks them down with two shots, then executes them at close range.]
[The Item pockets their Document while staring at Belowitz’s corpse, then kneels down to search them; they find the active earpiece and microphone, putting the former in their ear while continuing to search.]
Item 8942/B: Can you hear me?
Command: Who is this?
Item 8942/B: Mr. Subject. Do me a favour, would you?
Command: What?
Item 8942/B: Tell Wondertainment that I remember everything. I remember it all. Tell him that I hate her, and I have what he made me into, what she made me for. I hate him.
Command: You’re going—
Item 8942/B: I don’t know what Message wants with me or what he’s planning, but I’m in. I’m not a toy. I don’t want to be fixed. If anyone who tries to – if anyone gets in my way – I’ll subject them to all the agony I’ve had to endure, ever since the Doctor made me.
[Item 8942/B retrieves Belowitz’s handgun, holster, wallet, and phone.]
Item 8942/B: Leave me alone.
[The Item takes Belowitz’s radio, unplugging the microphone but keeping the earpiece active, then flees beyond view.]
15:56: Item 8942/B arrives at Nose Hill Drive, sprinting to Bus Stop 6603 where they sit, intermittently checking Belowitz’s phone and the surroundings while catching their breath.
16:01: The Item gets to their feet and looks around, appearing distressed. They search the underside of the bench and find a note; they read it, then hold Document 8942/C in the air above them. A Dodge Challenger starts in the carpark behind the Item, the driver honking and waving them over; once in the vehicle takes off and navigates at speed onto Nose Hill Drive southbound, running two red lights and briefly losing control around a corner.
16:03: The vehicle skids to a stop at a red light. The Item talks with the driver, who is hunched over the steering wheel and glancing about erratically; their left cheek is tattooed, of which only ‘Hide & Mr. Hunt’ is legible. Item 8942/B discards the phone and radio onto the street; the vehicle takes off when the lights turn green, frequently and erratically changing lanes as it navigates westward from Calgary at speed.
[END LOG]
Afterword: The vehicle’s license plates had been stolen earlier that day. Neither the vehicle nor its occupants have been found.
It is now known that Item 8942/B, the true ‘Mr. Subject’, used its anomalous abilities to swap places with Item 8942 during the Whateley Biotech raid, then excised its tattoo and mutilated itself to avoid identification; Item 8942 is suspected to be Dr. Alfonso Vincenzza, however genetic manipulation employed in Project A-35 has prevented confirmation.
Item 8942 does not possess the restorative properties of Item 8942/B. No method of restoring the entity has been determined.