Ricardo and I had been on duty for just over two hours when he turned to me.

Did you say something?

He asked, looking confused.

No.

I said, taking the opportunity to walk in place for a minute,

bending and flexing my legs to keep them limber.

It's something you have to do when you stand in one place for hours at a time.

Oh, Ricardo said.

I swear, he trailed off, looking blankly at the institutional gray wall in front of us.

What did you think I said? I asked him. I don't know. Peters. Nothing. Forget it.

You sure? If you're hearing things, you should go talk to Dr. Wagner,

or the other one. What's her name? The new one? Dr. McCalla.

Ricardo said, shaking his head.

No. I think I was just zoning out. Half asleep on my feet, you know?

I nodded. I knew exactly what he was talking about.

We had the most dull, mind-numbingly boring shift in the entire SCP foundation, guarding

a porcelain mask that looked like it belonged in the discount bin at a pop-up Halloween

store.

Ricardo and I stood on either side of a code-locked door leading into a room with walls

of layered steel, lead, and iron.

There was a small window in the door, and that was the only way you could look into the room

to see the mask sitting in the middle of the space, stuck in a glass case, like you'd

...