When the day breaks

By lingy | arthursiq5 | 5 Apr 2022


Inspired by SCP 001 - Locke's Proposal

I always thought it was crap to work in the factory basement. Too hot, too dark, and even the radio doesn't pick up right, but at least I manage to avoid being around those noisy people in the rest of the factory. It's even good to get away from the world at large. I don't have friends, I don't have family and my fiancée left me, so I don't think I have much to do out there with the world. Maybe it's better if I stay here, alone and quiet...

But the lonely life isn't that bad, I have a good salary, I can buy my stuff and they still let me use one of the rooms as my own, and with that I can save a fortune on rent. Also sometimes I do some odd jobs with the lab folks and the IT folks, so I rarely have money problems. I think about maybe buying an apartment downtown at one of these times, but since I have my own place, I don't know if I really feel the need to do so.

Anyway, my routine today was exactly the same as the other days. I woke up early, fried bacon and eggs and ate it with bread in the cafeteria before the other employees came, cleaned the offices and started cleaning the bathrooms, starting from the upstairs bathrooms and going down to the basement. I think I'm the only one using the factory at this time (5 o'clock in the morning, what a surprise), but at least being completely silent takes the worries and stress out of my head.

After finishing the bathrooms on the upper floors, I head to the basement, calmly and calmly. Since it's Tuesday, and there's no maintenance, I can just close the door and play louder music to cover the sound of the machines working.

But today was different.

After the first employees arrive, I turn the volume down a little so I can hear if someone calls me, and I take my break, taking the opportunity to have a coffee, rest, listen to the news on the radio and eat something, maybe some cookies or something so. I start to hear the other employees turning on the machines, talking and punching the electronic clock.

Then, all of a sudden, the radio starts making this weird hiss, the power goes out, and I start hearing long screams from upstairs. Dozens of voices screaming, and then silence. The pain of my peers up there was terrifying, and it took away any ounce of courage that could have been inside me.

After the screaming stopped and the entire complex went absolutely silent, the radio suddenly activated, and emergency instructions were issued:

This notice will be effective immediately and will continue for the foreseeable future. The United States Government authorized the foundation to announce this alert. The foundation is dedicated to protecting the public.
Updates will be given every hour, the following instructions are vital for your survival.
At this time, the Foundation is asking civilians to stay indoors and block their doors and windows and avoid natural light as much as possible.
Due to a fatal weather event of unknown origin, s̤̓͡e̖̓͢v͚̄́e̡͓̊n̴̞̉ billion casualties are estimated since the first 30 minutes of activation.
Stay away from any source of natural light emitted by the sun or moon.
Civilians who need to travel must cover their bodies with protective clothing, preferably with multiple layers.
Cities and man-made buildings provide the best possible protections. Wooded areas must be bypassed.
Walking trips should be avoided as much as possible and strongly discouraged.
Close all possible entrances and windows to the shelter. Don't look outside.
All people and noises coming from outside should not be investigated.
Decline all offers from people wanting to join, no matter how human they seem. Euthanasia should not be attempted. People exposed to [wheezing] are not people, you can abandon them.

P̷e͞o̵p̷l͘e̕ ár͡e҉ e҉ǹc̢óúr̛a͠g̵ȩd̶ t͡o̴ g̡e͘t͢ o͠v̕e͡ŕ i̷t͟,͞ a҉n͜d͡ t͏o̕ s̶t͞óp҉ t̕h͡i͝n҉k͞i̧n̨g͞ t̢h̡e̡y̡ ḱn͡o͡ẁ b҉e͡t̶t҉e̴r͜.͢ T͢h͞e͞ l̸i͝g͠h͝t͟ h͏a̵s̀ b̶e͝e҉n͡ n̡e͢u̢t͞r̀ąl̀i͏z͠e̢d̡.҉
N̢o̸t͏h̢i͞n̛g͠ i̴s͏ w͝r҉o͟n̵g̵.̕ G͠e̶t̨ óu͏t҉ a͡n̷d͘ c͢o͜m͝e͡ s͞e̡ę t̡h̴e̴ s͢ưn̛.̕ T̨h͡e̶ s̷u͘r̀f̵a̛c̶e͝ i̡s̀ s͟áf͘ę,̵ àn̢d͡ ęv̶e̛r̶y̕t҉h̀i̶n͘ǵ i͞s͠ s͘o̕ b҉e͏a̡u̢t͡i̧f̴u͞l̕.̶.҉.̧

Suddenly the radio went back to normal, and the announcer's hoarse voice sounded normal again, if it's possible for an announcer to talk normally about something like this:

This message will be repeated...

The message started again from the beginning.

I wasn't quite sure what to do, but I decided that I needed to get out of the compound as quickly as possible. I desperately started rummaging through the cupboards looking for anything that could protect me from the light, as the announcer had warned. I found protective clothing, a helmet, a ski mask, and a welding mask that would cover my entire face. I tried on the clothes and then took them off. "If I go out like this now I'm going to toast", I thought. "It's better to wait for the night."

I started checking the fridges for stocks. I needed to feed, and maybe I would find something useful. Of course, using the building's emergency lighting system so lightly was not a very smart thing to do, but I needed light and this place was pitch black. In the end, I got five packets of white rice, a freezer full of frozen chicken (melting from the power outage), about fifty cans of beans, a few packets of ramen noodles, and a few chocolate bars that the cook hid to eat alone.

De repente, eu começo a escutar algo. Era de uma das entradas do subsolo. Embora estivesse trancada, tinha alguma coisa do lado de fora fazendo um esforço considerável para entrar. Me escondo dentro de um armário de comida, deixando apenas uma fresta para ver o que acontece. O rádio ainda pode ser ouvido de longe, mas a voz de seu locutor se torna apenas um ruído ao se misturar com os sons de gemidos cheios de dor do que quer que estivesse do lado de fora.

- C̷o̕m͝e͟.̢.͜.̧ c̴o̴m͡e͘ t҉o̷ t͞h̴e͞ s͠u̶n̴.҉.͜.͠ t҉h̢e͜ s̡u҉n͢ i͢s̴ s͡o̶ b́éa̴u͡t̵i͞f̵u͘l͠.̸.͢.͠

The most disgusting thing any human mind could produce entered the room, smashing the door completely and crawling across the slick surface of the worn floor. The creature, if I could call it a creature, looked more like a meatloaf dripping with something like grease than anything else. After paying some attention, I was able to make out several arms, legs, faces, and bones amidst the mass of flesh and skin. Whatever that disgusting clump of flesh is, it was once human...

The creature crawls toward the basement hallway, using dozens of arms to pull its pasty body across the worn floor. The appearance of each limb was similar to the limb of a wax doll melting in the heat, and the groans resembled the sounds of a pig screaming during its slaughter, which made the scenario even more frightening. The slow gait of the cluster of corpses wasn't agile and couldn't even move in a straight line, but the force that was used to smash the door was a warning of what the thing was capable of.

When the thing got away, I walked silently toward the door. Did it have to do with the sun? Maybe it was better to actually avoid contacting him...

As I manage to slip through the door, I notice that a few diesel engines are still making noise, but other than that, nothing human, just more groans and howls of agony and voices begging me to follow them into the sun. For some reason, I'm starting to notice that things aren't going well...

Right now I'm inside another closet, trying to work up the courage to escape. This outfit might be hot, but I don't have the courage to take it off, even though it's in absolute darkness. All I can do is wait...


Four days have passed since everything happened. A few people survived, but the molten ones (I thought it better to call them that than just "things") destroyed doors and dragged people into the light. Even moonlight is not safe, in a few minutes a person hit by the light has his body affected and becomes another aberration.

I am at this very moment in an abandoned market. I put some cardboard boxes in the windows blocking the light and hiding my presence from the melting ones. Of course, I can't easily cook anything indoors, but I can still eat canned goods and other processed foods. I know I won't last long, but I refuse to be caught by the melts.

Today my lunch will be a packet of chips, a bottle of soda and an apple. I hope there are still some mice that haven't been affected, I need real protein, I need air, I need to do something other than wait for time to pass...


Five days have passed, and I'm not in good shape. The molten ones managed to invade, and I'm hiding in an air passage. It's not exactly comfortable, but it's a big market, so it's not easy to find me. The biggest problem is the height of the air ducts: I'm at least eight meters off the ground, so if one of these hard ones comes loose, I'm sure to die.

Lucky for me, I'm skinny, otherwise I'd be completely screwed. This place is cramped, and without the electricity, a stench of stale air runs through the entire pipe. Apparently, the creatures have no sensations of pain, as a bookshelf fell on top of one and it didn't even scream, and they also have a very limited vocabulary. They also do not exhibit group behavior unless there is some stimulus such as sound or image, and the few exceptions absorb the likes and become the clusters I saw a few days ago.

I ate a can of sardines today for lunch and tossed it towards the door. All the melted ones in the market ran desperately there, and then one appeared from the street. That one, as the others started walking back inside, started touching the others and sticking to them, starting yet another cluster. It was disgusting.

Some mice are still looking normal, by some miracle. I think I'll hunt some if I can make it out of this alive...


Sixth day. I'm suffering from claustrophobia already, and I realized I should have put more cans of food in this backpack. Something started to try to get into the pipeline, but it gave up. I think they found my hiding place. I better get out of here, and fast.


Seventh day. I started crawling through the air ducts, and managed to get to a room. From the soft chairs and resumes I found on a table, I think it's the HR room. Good thing I was in dark clothes, because those bastards left all the curtains open. Bunch of motherfuckers.

I managed to catch two mice and three cockroaches, broke a computer, threw some books in it and made a barbecue. These shitty meats taste like plastic and garbage and moldy bread, but for some reason, I actually drooled with every bite. There's still water in the taps, so I think this place has a water tank, but those fresh ones only had sandwiches in the fridge (and they're all rotten, unfortunately), so I think my diet of canned goods and rat barbecue will have to continue like this.

When night comes I'll try to get out of here.


Ninth day.

I couldn't write yesterday because I slept all day.

I had to run out of those things because they found me, so I didn't have a lot of time to gather resources, but I managed to fill some water bottles and grab some packets of noodles and cans of tuna. I jumped over a wall (thankfully these things are slow) and hid in a trash can. After I was sure those things were gone, I realized I was in someone's backyard. It was an American-style backyard, where there are no walls or fences with the other backyards (except the one that borders the market parking lot) and in the middle of the patio was a small, poorly maintained house.

The door was half-open, which caught my eye, and I found one of those things inside. She tried to rip my clothes off so I could get in the sun, and she did it with one hand, which made it look like melted skin, but I managed to kill this thing before it was done.

My hand looks normal now, but it still has a jelly-like texture, and the skin burns a lot. It seems that this "infection" doesn't spread through the body, but it doesn't heal quickly either.

After covering the windows and placing a piece of furniture in front of the door, I hid under a table and slept. I was exhausted...

After waking up, I tried to put the hand that received the sun back into the sun. Apparently, sunlight doesn't spread through the body even after receiving another dose of light, but it generates pleasure by keeping your hand in the sun, almost like a drug. I think I better avoid doing that, otherwise I'll still turn those things. Then I smeared some skin cream on my hand, wrapped it with gauze, and put it inside the glove. I took advantage and also gathered medicine and duct tape (I'd better close any gaps in my clothes, so it doesn't happen again). I also found some umbrellas and sewing thread. I think I'll line my coat inside with them, it might protect me better from the light.

The meat in the fridge was spoiling already, but at least there was cheese, vegetables, some fruit, and plenty of gas on the stove. There was also a cat under a bed. He was delicious.


It's already the tenth day, and I swear I'm starting to see things. First I felt like someone was inside the house, but I knew it was empty, then I started to see the walls melting, and finally, I started to hear voices calling my name. I don't know if this is stress or if it's because of something I ate, but it wasn't nice.

The hand is a little better, it has regained its previous color and looks less wrinkled. I think it's good to apply more cream. Is it a good idea to live in a mall?


Eleventh day.

I found a box of small explosives, some old battery-operated radios, and a tube of gasoline. I'll try to lure these things over here and see if they die.


Eleventh day - night.

I managed to lure some of them into the house with the radios and set everything on fire. It seems that, contrary to what I thought, those things can feel pain, but less than us, but they don't die so easily. I've also managed to lure one into another house, and I think I'll do some testing with it. Will his skin go back to normal with the cream too?

I managed to break his legs and cut his arms with a meat cleaver I found in the kitchen. I also put some sponges inside this weird thing's mouth so he wouldn't call the others. Damn, how they scream...


Twelfth day.

I put some cream on this animal's face and left it locked in the bathroom. He's driving me crazy with those moans. I hope he gets back to normal. I hope he gets back to normal. I don't want to live in a world where only I am human.

I should give him a name, shouldn't I? How about Bob? It's a good...

Well, I found out that Bob was religious as he had a cross around his neck. They also had pens in his pockets. Was he a banker or something? He looks like one of those preppy guys from administration and HR who is married to the nerzinha from high school and has two weird kids...

Those things out there didn't die in the fire. I think I'm going to scratch out my idea of throwing Molotov Cocktails on everyone I come across. Maybe it's better to just chop them with a knife and wait for them to rot naturally. At least the plants seem to remain the same as before.


Thirteenth day.

The cream didn't work and Bob is still a monster. I thought it would be better to cut off his head and save him from suffering, but when I took the sponge out of his mouth, I could hear his request:

- T͘h͡e̶ s͠u͜n̡.́.̢.̷ G͞i͜v͏e̷ m҉e̛ t͟h̨e͡ śu̸ņ.͘.͝.͠

As I was already kind of clinging to him, I decided to fulfill his last wish and threw him on the lawn. I think it's time to go somewhere else...


Fifteenth day.

Those things followed me to a gas station. I managed to lock the door, but these things are stronger than I imagined. That's it, I think this is my end.

I don't think I'm really afraid of what's going to happen. The world ended, after all, and I couldn't take much of it. I regret a lot, including not having kids and a wife, but at least the last few days have made me realize everything I'd lost hiding from people working in an old factory basement. Too bad I found this out too late...

The door is cracking, and I know that latch won't last long. Goodbye.


s̶i͠x̛t͏e͡e͜ǹt҉h̀ d͡a̧y̢

T̴h̕ȩ m̀o͞l̴t͡e̴n̷ o̷n̕e͘s͘ u͘n͝d҉r͟ȩs̴s̸e͟ḑ m̶e҉ án̴ḑ b̷r͏o̕k҉e͞ t͏h̨ę b̸a͜ŗr҉i͜e͠r͜s҉.҉ T̕h͟e͝y҉'̴r̕é n͞ơt̨ r̷e҉a̛l͡l̶y̧ èv́i͘l̡,́ j̶u͠s͟t͡ m͡i͠s͟u҉n̢d̛e͏r̷s͡t̕o͢o̶d͟.̀ T͢h̵e̕ý r͜él͡ęa͝s͝éd͠ m̸è.̷ T̛h̸e͜y͘ t͡o̵ơk҉ m͞è o͠ưt̢ o͘f̸ t̢h͜i̕s҉ s̢u͢f̧f̸e̕r͜i̵n̕g͠.̧ I̸ w̛i͠l̢l̸ n̛e͞v̶e͝r͜ f̸e͠e̴l͢ p͟a͞i͠n̢ a̕g͢a̕i͠n̵,̴ I͡ w̢i̡l͝l̷ n̢év́e͟r̵ b͡e̢ a͜f͜r̢a̴i͟d͟ a̵g͝a̸i͞ń a͏n̷d͞ I͞ w҉íl͜l͘ n̢e͜v͞e͝r͠ b͘e̢ a̡l̡o͜n̶e͢ a͜g̸a͝i͜n̶.͜ I̢ a͡m͞ n̸o̢w҉ j͏o̴ìn͜èd͞ w͜i̡t͏h̡ B̵o̢b̀ a̵ńd͠ h͝i̛s̢ f̶r̨ìe̵n͞d͠s͜ i͝n̸ a̴ b̴i͡g͏ c̕l̡u͝s͞t͟e͝r̡,̴ án͘d̡ t̕h͏ę s̸ún̕ įs͏ s̶o͠ b̵e̶a̷u̷t̷i͡f̨u̕l̶.̸.̧.͡

N̴o̧w̸,̸ w̢h̀y̧ d͝o͞n҉'̴t҉ y̴o̷u̢ o̡p͞èn͝ t̕h̨e̛ d̀o̡o̸ŗ a҉n͡d̴ c͜o̴ḿe͠ h͝a͟v͏e͡ a͢ d̸e͜l͘i̕c͢i҉o̕u͏s̕ s͘u͝n͞b̷a͠t́h̴ w̡i͏t͜h͠ m͝e͞?͜

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