5 5: Report

Phillip Foster was a lot of things. He was a married man. He sorta liked cable TV. But most importantly, he was the director of site 88.

However, at this point in time, never had he thought he didn't want to be so, yet here he was. In front of him, on his desktop, was a document. The document's contents were pretty troubling for him, as it was a damage report from a distant wing of site 88.

The wing was an abandoned mental hospital in Houston, Texas. Now, why site 88 has a location out of the state of Alabama wasn't on his mind, as often sites would have temporary locations of containment, researcher, personal, and storage if needed, wherever and whenever.

No, right now, the things on Foster's mind was the fact that one of the more notorious of SCPs had just wrecked the place down to its foundation in response to a break-in from "The Partnership," or so the report went, the reliability of the report questionable at best, being as it was around a day or two old as he had other work keeping him occupied until he could get to it now.

'That damn Able. If only those damn keys were found, then we wouldn't have to deal with his homicidal ass every again.'

But Foster wasn't one to solely determine the facts with only one source, as a couple of things about the whole thing seemed off to him.

First of all, as a site director, specifically for site 88, he should be privy to information as to why Able was sent instead of an MTF (moble task force) unit or two. But he got nothing, but vague statements of the like of "he (Able) was around to deal with it" and statements like that.

Then, there was the strange absence of anything actually being stored there at the hospital, in the first place. For "The Partnership" to target a random Foundation's owned empty hospital for nothing there to take is beyond improbable.

That particular GOI (group of interest) always hit when there was something to gain from it. The Foundation had first come into contact with them back in 1970, when "Jake", a class 2 reality bender, had single handedly dealt with an anomalistic being the Foundation was in the process of containing, utilizing reality warping ability to suffocate the beast with tendrils of stone, dirt, and air, before evading personnel, taking the corpse with him.

From then on, 2 more individuals would emerge out of the shadows, with both suspected to be around class 2 to 3.

Then, over the years and the trio would pop up every year or so and mess with the Foundation and other organizations, giving themselves the name of "The Partnership" around 1974.

But then around 1992, their activity dwindled, till 2000, where all signs of them stopped. And now, a decade and a half later, they now pop up again? It's so frustrating.

But at the same time, Foster recognized his status in the Foundation. While being at site director was a high position within the Foundation's hierarchy, it wasn't high enough to be in the know of everything.

Feeling upset as he thought more about it, he finished reading the doc and closed it. Then, looking at the time, he sees it had only just passed 5 in the morning.

Deciding that now was a good enough time for a break, he logs off, shuts his desktop down, and then gets up from his swivel seat.

Taking a moment to stretch, he sighs, some of the stress from today's workload dissipating as his muscles finally got some more movement besides sitting, typing, writing, and signing.

Grabbing his coat off his chair, he drapes it over his shoulders, but doesn't bother putting it on, as the forecast didn't expect rain that morning, nor for it to be that hot.

It was an unexpected nice morning in Baldwin County, Alabama. But that sentiment didn't last long.

As Foster was nearing the elevator, rapid footsteps behind him told him that someone was approaching. And given that this person was also rapidly saying his name, then it definitely wasn't good news.

Turning around, he faced and saw that it was one of the custodial staff that was scheduled for this mornings cleaning of the site's grounds.

The person in front of him was young, around 25 or so. With a head of short blonde hair and a freckled white face with green eyes that shined with childlike wonder, this janitor looked to one of the more recent recruits of the Foundation's custodial personnel

As she didn't have a nameplate on her; cause for some reason, they weren't a thing for janitorial staff, Foster was drawing up a blank on her name.

However, I mean, you couldn't really blame him for that. With over 100 or so custodial/maintenance personnel at the site, and that was only for custodial/maintenance work, mind you, it was totally within his right to not know her name.

Yet, for some reason, he had this invasive feeling that he should've known. Shaking his head slightly to rid the weird idea from his brain, he spoke to her.

"Yes, ma'am?"

Now able to catch her breath, she wiped her brow with a rag she had in her hand, seemingly not caring for its cleanliness.

"Hello, director, I'm Della. uh, one of the janitors. I've been looking for a person to tell this to. There is something wrong with the men's restroom on the first floor."

She goes on as she notices Foster frowning, like she was wasting his time with something minor.

"It's not like that! I've been hearing about complaints of voices coming from the toilets and urinals, from some of the staff on that floor. Naturally, as a janitor, I went to check it out earlier this morning. Sure enough, I heard it, too."

Foster's frown doesn't give, however. "How come you knew of this, and I wasn't informed?"

"Well . . . the men that heard the voices, seemed . . . fearful about the whole ordeal? Embarrassed? Whatever the case, they didn't report the strangeness to you or the other assistant directors because of it." She sheepishly answers.

"And who are these fools that experienced these so-called voices?" Foster now finding this talk a bother. Obviously, for Foster, she was either lying for whatever reason or she was exaggerating about the whole situation.

'What kind of moron would hear voices from the restroom and not report on it to upper management? We all work for the Foundation, so unusual or anomalistic activity is to always be expected and looked out for. ' Is what Foster was thinking.

She raises her hands. "Uh to my knowledge, me and 5 others. It was really odd, the voice kept on saying, "Karma lives, Go-."

"Stop!" Foster abruptly stops her from continuous that statement, even going as far as cover her mouth with one of his hands.

Then, as Della went to voice her complaints at Foster's reaction, they both went silent. But not because they heard something or saw something, but for something else, entirely.

It was subtle at first, but now there was no denying it. The ground was shaking, and no alarms were going off.