Diary of someone infected with SCP-150

Dear Diary,

This is my first page of this diary these weird men have handed me to write some of my memories and other things in them. They probably just handed me that for two reasons: doing some tests on me or just to help me make the time flies faster. And I swear, these people are putting me in a ... some kind of maximum level security prison cell for no reason. And I mean! I-It is just a dammed cold, not Coronavirus. And even if I had, I would've most likely just isolated myself in my rent apartment from the city.

Anyway, I guess whoever will read this doesn't know what is going on. Who am I? Why am I writing in this diary? Why I am on this cell? Why there is a man who is wearing heavy armour like some sorts of FBI and guarding my cell which has no bars? Why is the deal with the weird logo on their armour and their shields? Why researchers are not doctors? And why are treating a cold like it is a disease with no existing cure?

First, my name is Martha Gregory, I have 23 years old, and I finished L.O.A. University, a university focused on literature and arts. Today I could've published my first novel, but a cold got me here. And these dudes even think someone possesses me because he has transformed my left leg limb into a leg that belongs to a bug, and this is crazy because my feet it is normal (Author Note: SCP-150 release some kind of chemicals which made the host whose infected with the parasite ignore the transformations which are happening in his body).

I am writing this diary because some "Researcher" or a science man called Dr. [REDACTED] wanted to know if the parasite inside me can have a weird manifestation while I writing or something like this. And I am sceptical about all of these things because I do not have a parasite inside me. After all, I suffer a normal cold, not a cancerous disease.

And I do not know why are going to do with this diary but I don't really care. I write on this one because I am bored and in a cell-like this you have just a bed, a few old books and a toilet. This feels almost like a prison than a medical room.

And the guys who are wearing armour and has some kind of guns at them, they are there for our protection and also protecting their facility. This seems quite reasonable, but how come they have to be prepared like that, because what else is in this weird place instead of people who suffers from the cold? A giant alligator who can eat people alive if he gets horny? Yeah right, this is not a fictional world, it is reality and the only scary thing for a human is the aunt of your husband or a deadline to an artist.

Anyway, I will keep it short. I hate this place. And I want to get out of this place because it is ridiculous to keep a woman who suffers from cold in this type of prison which they called a medical room.