Part 1
>be tier 0 operator
>2020
>shady glowinthedarks offer me lucrative job working at facility
>a guy named Ted (spook) guides me across the facility. I am to watch for any “creatures” that have escaped their rooms.
>what kind of creatures?
>Ted instantly drops the subject, instead shows me to the staff room
>it’s fucking great, but the other guys look fucking miserable
>Ted gives me contract
>normal glowinthedark shit, I can’t use cameras or phones other than the radio issued to me in the facility
>can’t speak about the facility
>sign it cause sweet million dollars (US)
>first shift near containment cells 
>other guy talking to me
>he’s got the jitters, but for some reason I can’t stop talking as well.
>I talk about anything, the fucking floor beneath us if it’s a viable subject.
>guy gives in to the mouth diarrhea and both of us talk for hours.
>learn his name’s Dan. looks mid 40s, balding, but he’s /fit/ as fuck.
>sudden banging, hear a screech.
>he gets a semi heart attack, immediately stops talking. banging still emanates from the hall.
>tells me to be quiet
>I utter “OK,” but the guy immediately tells me to shut the fuck up,
>realize there’s a reason for it
>banging stops after a while. I stay silent for the rest of my shift

Part 2
>get to the staff room with Dan
>it’s the only place without a camera surprisingly
>immediately, he sits me down.
>”listen, the reason why you need to be quiet when you pass by that hallway is because of the fucking thing in the room,”
>”it can hear everything you say. It can also hear any movements you make that are too loud.
but it also fucks up your head whenever you go near it.”
>”it’s almost like psychological warfare; you feel a need to talk. mouth diarrhea ensues.” 
>it eventually heard us through the steel, apparently, two hours into the shift. felt like longer
>a fucking whimper through the wall and it starts pounding on the damn thing.
>freaked the fuck out. never had to deal with this before.
>sip on my coffee. tastes almost like fucking oil, it’s disgusting but i drink it.
>take a small nap in my chair, as to be ready for my next shift.

Part 3
>I wake up, grab the issued 8mm sbr and 10mm sidearm. this time I’m with some old fart named Bernard.
>he’s some french guy from Canada, completely bald with a white ass santa beard.
>constantly talking about how beautiful Quebec was.
>me and Bernard are walking to our assigned post: Room 710.
>he’s still blabbering, but I enjoy it.
>tells old stories about ‘Nam
>think he’s lying but don’t give a shit. guy looks kind of operator so I don’t bug him about it.
>anyway, it’s a different room.
>Bernard doesn’t give a shit about any cameras, straight up tells me what to do.
>there is some mean motherfucker sitting inside Room 710; Bernard tells me I won’t have to do much on the shift.
>Bernard will tap me on the shoulders if anything’s wrong, though. Idk why he doesn’t speak.
>there’s one rule, though.
>never listen to Bernard, and never, ever listen to the guy inside the room.
>reminds me that he will TAP me, never TALK to me.
>I understand, but Bernard keeps a close eye on my face as if there was something on it or something.
>he falls asleep and I have to kick him awake. he’s mad at me for a minute, then quickly realizes where he is and shrugs his shoulders.
>but the next time I look, the fucking boomer fell asleep again. this time I let it slide.
>about three hours into the shift, Bernard starts talking to me again.
>there’s something wrong. we need to open the door.
>wtf
>look over to Bernard and he’s fast asleep.
>realize what’s going on and close my eyes. I tell the faggot behind the door to shut up with my brain power.
>it continues to harass me, then fucks off after about a half hour.
>Bernard has woken from his nap. only another 25 minutes until the shift ended then.
>”I’m still here.” I imply.
>we end the shift and I tell him all about it.