Documentation of Site-■■■ [MCYT SCP FILES]

Side Report: Tommy

"Two thousand... eighteen?" He answered hesitantly, genuinely confused as to why she was asking him this. She merely glanced back down at her file, nodding, but gave him no other indication of what all of this was about. The guard behind her seemed to grow more bored.

"June, correct?" Tommy nodded hesitantly, but she seemed to be paying him as little attention as possible. "Do you remember the date?" Tommy's brows furrowed, for some reason unable to remember, so he shook his head yet again, which caused the lady to start to sigh before catching herself, brushing it off as though she wasn't bored out of her mind.

"Alright, I think we're done here," She ended up saying, stretching herself as she began to head out the door, completely ignoring Tommy and his confusion. "I  have a couple more I have to do before we're done."

"What do we do with him?" The guard asked, the gruffness of his voice surprising Tommy slightly, making him retreat further into himself, despite wanting so badly to ask the same question. "He's in the acceptable time frame for taking him back." The lady glanced him over with a tired expression.

"There's too many of them to do that," The lady grumbled, apparently no longer caring or even remembering Tommy's existence. "Make him into a D-Class or something, I really don't care." This seemed to surprise the guard only a little more than Tommy, who still had no idea what was going on.

After that meeting, it felt as though Tommy was stuck in a never-ending nightmare. He did eventually learn what a D-Class was from his bunk mates, and it was not pleasant in the slightest. Every day before he opened his eyes, the universe toyed with him, making him think albeit very briefly, that he would be greeted with the sight of his bedroom ceiling. Instead, he was greeted with the metallic view of the bunk above him. He wanted to scream.

Some of the D-Class had an idea what was going on, and Tommy felt as though he got the gist of it. This was the SCP Foundation, where they housed several monsters and supernatural objects, keeping them hidden from the outside world through, according to Tommy, immoral means. None of the people Tommy ever talked with had any clue as to how large the Foundation was or how it operated, and most were unclear as to why they were even here, Tommy included.

It was only through one of his bunk mates that he was even made aware of the fact that this was not 2018, but in fact, 2020, and that Tommy had been asleep in an unnamed SCP for a couple years. Tommy wasn't quite sure what was worse: The fact that he'd not only skipped forward eight years and was forced to work as a D-Class personnel in a hell hole, or the fact that the Foundation could have easily sent him back to his previous life but were merely too tired to do so. He knew they had amnesthetics. They all knew.

Tommy's initial rage from before had quickly melted away into fear after being assigned his first task, and even after three months, this fear did not fade. All of the personnel was well aware even the 'safest' of tasks could result in it being the last. Most did not last more than six months.

Tommy's first task had been one of the more of an experiment than a task. SCP-8811 was not necessarily the most dangerous SCP, but the D-Class tended to try and keep records of the different SCPs, against the wishes of the scientists. Understandably so, Tommy was mortified when he learned 8811 was most known for killing a D-Class and injuring several others. Thankfully, he ended up surviving, leaving the testing area with only minor injuries, which was apparently considered good by his fellow personnel.

Tommy wanted to be mad, he really did. It was just who he was, and he saw several others who made their anger well known to anyone who'd listen, D-Class or not. But his fear was just too great, and the sadness and grief he felt every time he remembered one of his stupid dogs, all his boring schoolwork, or even the way his mom always yelled at him for being too loud. So he stayed quiet, crying himself to sleep on those first few nights before the constant panic surrounding him soon became the norm.