Thursday, 17:30 PM

It was one of those rare days where things were peaceful and the SCPs (for once a year) are calm. A rare but savored time by many, including Site 17's director.

He's in his office, drinking coffee and skimming through files while the green butterflies were sitting at his desk, shoulders and plain cap. He had finish his third cigarette a few minutes ago, small smoke coming from the dying cigarette from the ashtray.

At some point, he was starting to feel tired. He leans the side of his head on the palm of his hand, yawning a bit. He glanced at his cup and see that the coffee is running out. He thinks of getting some more but is feeling a bit tired at the moment..