SCP life (Male reader) [SLOW]

By Chapfam4

93.7K 1.4K 587

*Cover art is not mine. Text on image was edited by me, but not part of the art piece itself.* Y/n is an 18 y... More

Before you read [UPDATED]
Bio+Info
[ Maintenance ]
II: New day
III: The anomaly
IV: New toy
V: "Hello"
VI: Invisible friend
VII: Shriek of a beast
VIII: Dog food
IX: Questions
X: Doggy doodle
XI: Introduction
Intermission
[REDACTED]: Feast
The full explanation

[REDACTED]: "Dilf"

998 18 10
By Chapfam4

𝗔/𝗻: 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 "𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗼𝗱" 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝗮 𝗸𝗲𝘆𝗯𝗼𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗰𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝗱𝗱 𝗮 𝗯𝗶𝘁 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲... 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝘀 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗻𝘁𝘀.

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Dr. Clark worked quietly in his office as his fingers typed and clicked away on his keyboard for computer work.

Based on his looks, others would say he's been working for such a long time that he's deprived himself of sleep. But... he always states that's just his usual look.

Tapping [Enter] his current page on screen disappeared into a haste load and a notification that it was successful rang like music to his ears.

He softly exhaled in exhaustion as he stretched his chest out while grunting as his arms and back popped, leaving him to finally feel free for the day as he slouched in his seat.

He laid his head back onto his seat, staring to his ceiling, removing his glasses as he let his arms hang. Heavily breathing in, he exhaled once more in relaxation as he closed his eyes peacefully.

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*𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙*

Clark's eyes flinched back open and lifted his head to see a letter related notice on his computer screen.

Rearranging his posture back to the mouse and keyboard, he read that it was a directed message from a fellow scientist in the SCP Foundation.

Now, Clark, as a person, had no issue with speaking to his colleagues, but he was honestly debating whether to ignore and/or delete it if it had anything to do with extra work.

Although, bummed out as he was, he still found his manners to view the message given.

He hoped it wasn't what he would think it'd be as he read...

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ᴄʟᴀʀᴋ,

ɴᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ʜᴀʟꜰ ɴᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴏᴘ-ᴏꜰꜰ?

ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘꜱ ꜱᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴏx ɪꜱ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴏᴠᴇʀꜰɪʟʟ. ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴄʟᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇꜱꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɪɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ.

ꜱᴏ ɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ɢᴇᴛ ᴅᴇʟɪᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏꜰꜰɪᴄᴇ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜꜱᴜᴀʟ ᴡᴇᴇᴋʟʏ ᴅᴏᴄᴜᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ɴᴏᴡ ᴏɴ. ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴀᴛᴄʜ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴅᴇʟɪᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴏᴏʀ ɪɴ ᴄᴀꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ'ᴛ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ.


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At first read, he was relieved it wasn't extra work, but at the same time he felt suspicious as to what these letters he's been getting were about.

Opening his door, he turned his head to gaze upon a stack of documents on the floor. Leaning beside them was a yellow packet.

He picked it up along with the rest and set them into a basket while keeping the packet separate. Opening it revealed multiple envelopes with... very obscure names that he'd usually see as others' profile names on the internet.

Gently he opened the first while placing his glasses back in place to read it. What came out was a simple sheet of paper with a single word written on it.


"d-d-Dilf" it read.

𝗗𝗿. 𝗖𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗸: ...

He felt confused than anything else. Reading that singular piece made him raise an eyebrow.

He set it on the table to reach for the next as he tossed the open envelope to the side. As much as that first letter was just... out of nowhere, he felt a mix of flattery along with discomfort.

Opening the next he assumed it wasn't gonna be anything like the same, so he had somewhat of an expectation that it would be from an old friend, or-

"Daddy?"

𝗗𝗿. 𝗖𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗸: ......

...or his expectation would just be mercilessly thrown right out the window.

Without looking he placed it on top of the other with one hand at the same time he threw the envelope away with the other hand.

Before grabbing the third, he glanced at the letter that read "Daddy" on it, facing on the side that he could still read it on. Narrowing his eyes to the side while he breathed sharply, he flipped it onto its other side that left it unreadable.

He went a little faster with the next one and came to read it as-

"I simp...."


𝗗𝗿. 𝗖𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗸: .........

His eyes widened as his brows furrowed. He was shocked but didn't feel it be like a surprise. To say he was confused would be an understatement at this point.

Quickly he flew both the letter and envelope behind him as he grunted in displeasure.

On and on he opened each message one by one. All the same with little difference to their meaning as he was being constantly bombarded with messages he didn't know how to take seriously.

"I- *GAY PANIK*"

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"Who the **** is this man?"

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"*-**𝐡...𝐝-𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲.."

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"*-*-*-****"

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"*COUGH* hot *COUGH*"

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"I know I love able more BUT ****- DILF 100%"

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"Why does he look like Mr. Stark Dr. Strange and hawks combined?"

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"He looks like he needs mental help"

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"WHAT- HE IS OLD WHY ARE PEOPLE SIMPING 💀😱"

*𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓*

By the time he had gone through most of them, he was slouched onto his desk with his arms crossed and his forehead laying on them.

However, in his right hand, there still remained one envelope yet to be opened. His head slowly turned as he stared at it in a side eye glare.

He sighed as he straightened out, only to lean forward with his elbows resting his desk. He cared not for any more gentle approach as he ripped it open and flipped it out...

" Kenobi!"

Clark only kept a straight face while his brows sat flat atop his eyes, which would make the expression that he's seen enough.

Although not all of them were as shocking, he simply shrugged this one off and threw it back.

Immediately, he buried his head in crossed arms on the desk to at least get some rest, but after going through all that, he found it a bit too irritating to just forget about it so quickly.

He raised his head again to view his computer screen as it still had the message kept on tab.

He groaned as his head fell back down like a flop. He sat silently groaning to himself as he tried to sleep it off.

His arms shuffled in a few different arrangements before clenching his hands into fists and raising himself up only to release a pent up frustration as he smacked hid fists back onto his table. Immediately he grabbed his mouse and keyboard and started typing away in a hurry.

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ᴡʜᴏ ꜱᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ?

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He sat back in his seat, arms crossed, finger tapping as he awaited ever so patiently.

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*𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙*

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ᴅᴜɴɴᴏ. ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ɪɴ ʙʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ɪɴᴄᴏɴꜱᴘɪᴄᴜᴏᴜꜱ ᴅᴇʟɪᴠᴇʀᴇʀ.

ᴡʜʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀꜱᴋɪɴɢ?

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ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴄᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ᴀ "ᴅɪʟꜰ" ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ "ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ" ɪɴ ᴀɴ ᴏᴅᴅ ᴍᴀɴɴᴇʀ.

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ᴏʜ.

ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴꜱ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ.

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ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇxᴀᴄᴛʟʏ?

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ɪ ᴍᴇᴀɴ, ᴡʜᴏ ᴄᴀɴ ʙʟᴀᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ?

ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟ ꜱᴏʀᴛ, ʀɪɢʜᴛ? ʜᴇʜ ʜᴇʜ.

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ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ꜰᴏᴏʟɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ!

ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ?

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ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀʟʟ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴄʟᴀʀᴋ.

ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀɴᴇᴛ.

ᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟʟʏ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴅᴇꜱɪɢɴᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪꜱᴛ.

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ᴇxᴄᴜꜱᴇ ᴍᴇ?

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ɴʏᴇɪɢɴᴇᴏᴜꜱ! ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴᴄᴇᴅ, ɴʏᴇ_ɪɢɴᴇᴏᴜꜱ ᴏɴ ᴛᴡɪᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ/ᴏʀ ɢᴏᴏɢʟᴇ ꜱᴇᴀʀᴄʜ.

ᴀɴ ʟᴏɴᴅᴏɴ/ᴇɴɢʟᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴛ ɪʟʟᴜꜱᴛʀᴀᴛᴏʀ, ᴀɴɪᴍᴀᴛᴏʀ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ꜰᴀɴᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ʜᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ ᴅʀᴀᴡɪɴɢ ɢᴜɴꜱ, ᴘʟᴀɴᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟꜱ, ᴄᴀᴍᴘɪɴɢ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴏʟᴅ ꜰᴏᴏʟꜱ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ.

ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ? ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ, ʀɪɢʜᴛ?

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Clark was honestly at a loss for words, which in this case doesn't happen to him a lot.

He stared blankly at his screen almost as if he was staring at something else while his thoughts ran amok.

For a solid half minute he sat idle before his eyes flinched wider for a second. Immediately he placed his hands on keyboard and mouse as his fingers clicked and typed away hurriedly.

ɴ - ʏ - ᴇ - ɪ - ɢ - ɴ - ᴇ - ᴏ - ᴜ - ꜱ
(Or nye_igneous)

He typed every letter each more hesitantly than the last, his heart pounding in his ears growing louder as he continued the pursuit.

All he would have to do to find answers now was to hit [Enter].

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*𝙋𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨*

His page went blank for merely a moment as it loaded in the questionable search, landing right towards a page... with himself on it.

He appeared... happy. In a joyful sense his expression was that of a man with nothing holding him back, but Clark...

His forehead was sweating, his pupils shaking, his fingers twitching, he was not happy, but appalled.

More questions than ever beforehand flooded his brain. How was such a thing possible? How could he be just an artistic piece of drawing/painting? Was he even a real, or more-or-less a living person?

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ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪɴ ***'ꜱ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ɪꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ!?

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ꜱᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ɪᴛ? ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ! ɴᴏᴡ ᴡᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ꜱᴇᴛᴛʟᴇᴅ, ʜᴏᴡ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴡᴇ ʜᴀʟᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇʀꜱᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ꜰɪɴᴅꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪʀᴇꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴜꜱ.

ᴏʀ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴜꜱ.

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𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 **** 𝗜𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦???

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ᴡᴏᴀʜ! ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴇᴀꜱʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴄʟᴀʀᴋ.

ɪ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ɪɴ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ -ᴀʟᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ "ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ" ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴀɴ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄᴀꜱᴇ - ʙᴜᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴄᴀʟᴍʟʏ ꜰᴏʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ.

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𝗛𝗢𝗪?

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ꜱᴏʀʀʏ. ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴇɴᴅ. ɪ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴀ ɢᴇᴛ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ.

ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ, ᴡᴇ'ʟʟ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇɴ.

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𝗗𝗢𝗡'𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗘!

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[𝙈𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙫𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚. 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙫𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚]

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𝗗𝗿. 𝗖𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗸: No no, no no no NO NOOO-AAAUGH, ****!!!

In a fit he smashed his hands onto his desk, not minding towards what he'd hit and what would be thrown off.

Slowly lifting his hands again he was still visibly shaking. Staring at his hands like they were... something that was nonexistent. Searching for any outlines on his skin like in the drawing to find none. His touching went into a rapid rub, and then scratching, until he shortly stopped once he realized how crazy he was acting.

Was he crazy though, for believing he would be just a figment in the world devised by something like God? Maybe it was true. Maybe it would be something worse than a God, or... something entirely unexpected like a... a, uh... book writer for who-knows-what.

Still petrified he slowly but surely recollected his thoughts to begin thinking more rationally for himself. As for whether he would've kept it up, he had no doubt he'd eventually be thrown into an insane asylum... or worse.

Just as before, he laid back, head rested, facing the ceiling, removed his glasses, staring curiously into the sky even though there was no sky to see. Just his thoughts trying to help him drive off his worries.

𝗗𝗿. 𝗖𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗸: Who is Nye... eh, ig... ne-ous?

He said to himself, mostly expecting no answer with the silence that was his office. His hand came up to rub his eyes as he sighed. This day would surely be one he would not so easily forget if never.

He closed his eyes but now had no shred of tiredness to keep them closed.

He was now worried that he may not get any sleep that night.

--------------------------------------------------------------

𝗔/𝗻: 𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗖𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗯𝘁𝘄.

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