Scp 432 Novels & Stories

Between this morning and all the crap he was doing tonight, he was feeling the toll on his body. Scott pulled the armchair over, under the other vent, and went through the same routine. The screws were too tight. The equipment was gone. Vanished. In the living room. The bedroom. The kitchen. And the fucking office. The office was worse, because not only were the camera and microphone gone, but so was the transmitter. What the hell had happened? He pulled out his phone and hit the icon for his contact at Good Global. The line never even rang. "The number you have dialed has been disconnected-"

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