Of Men and Monsters

Two: Parakeet Protocol

I stood up, my legs still sore, but I needed to keep moving. I stretched and unblocked the door, preparing for the worse.
Thankfully, I didn't open the door to see a monster.
I took a careful step out of the room, looking right and left like I was going to pass a street. In a sense, I was. I quietly closed the door and began to speed-walk to the nearest evac center. I wanted to run, but that would risk making unnecessary noise.
I really hope they didn't close down the evacuation centers

If they did, that lowers my chance of survival significantly.
My brain ran through some of the unfortunate ways I could die.
A host for 035, victim of 173, prey of 106, dismembered by 096, to name a few.
Just thinking about it made me want to sprint.
I was just a turn away from the evacuation center. I got the feeling I was too late.

I came across the inconspicuous door and turned the knob. Locked, so I pulled out my key card and found the scanner. I got an error message.

I couldn't help but feel like my life was over. I backed away from the door, and if this one was locked odds are the rest are as well. I put away my key card, and I tried my best to keep my emotions in check. No use in causing a scene or showing weakness.

My lifelines were severed, and I was dropped off in the middle of an ocean of danger. What good was swimming when there was almost a guarantee that I'd die. Hopelessness saturated the air, and I was taking shallow breaths.

Zara, you idiot, calm down! If you die, you die. I scolded myself and composed myself.

I walked away from the door, going through my options.

A) I could give up, going out by my own hand.

B) I could go and find a dangerous SCP and die that way.

C) I could keep going.

I decided option C was the way to go. After all, I don't want to give the others the satisfaction of knowing I died and they lived. I can name a good number of people that dislike me and would be very happy I was no more.

I began walking to the next break room, bottling all of the emotion and carefully storing it away.

The site was quiet, but not in a good way. More like the calm before the storm.

I walked into a break room and went a bit stiff at the sight of who was in there.
I silently cursed any higher power, as they really had it out for me.

SCP 049 sat at a table, writing in a leather journal. It glanced up at me and went back to what it was doing. I was confused, as usually 049 becomes hostile when he senses the 'pestilence'. I think it's batteries might have died and someone forgot to replace them.
I couldn't help but snicker at my own (bad) joke.

I decided to risk it and make myself coffee, acting like 049 being in a staff break room was normal. For some reason, things were fine. I waited on the coffee machine, trying to not think about the SCP that was calmly sitting at a table. The machine beeped and I quickly poured myself a cup of coffee, remembering to let it cool.

I waited a couple of minutes before taking a sip of my mug and resisting the urge to start a conversation. I guess I could ask it if it wants coffee. I shook my head and continued drinking my coffee. Hopefully the caffeine will hold off my need to sleep for a few more hours. That is, if I don't die first. Honestly, my desire to talk won.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" I tried my best to sound casual, but truth be told, I was waiting for the moment when 049 would kill me.

"Coffee?" 049 was looking at me now, and he was no longer writing in his book.

"Have you ever had coffee?" I just kind of stood there, realizing the creature has been in containment for a long time.

"No, I have not." 049 look me in the eyes, and I wanted to run. It's eyes were too human.