#it's odd

Caz stays still as he recollects his thoughts. No one new should be here. They hadn't managed to call for help. Did a fight break out between the creatures? No, no that's not right. They haven't attacked each other at all from what he's seen.

He's never actually seen those bloody things meet each other though, has he? The possibility isn't a far one by any means. The creatures seem to not be a hive mind, but he really hasn't had any chance to confirm that when he's either running for his life or trying to find something to get him out. There's no way it would fight itself. The creatures must be separate entities in a way if they were to fight.

"Damn it, Caz," he curses to himself. "Focus. The creature being a hive mind is not something you should be focusing on right now."

He goes over to the phone, keeping the boom in the front of his mind. The creatures must be fighting. That's something to tell Finlay. Since she isn't calling him, he'll call the room she should be in.

He brings the phone up to his ear while taking deep breaths. His mind is a full mess and he can barely type in the numbers. The phone instantly goes to a busy signal. His heart drops.

Caz's breath picks up as he listens to the signal. He slams the phone back in its place and puts in the number to where Finlay said she may be if she couldn't get to Marine Control. His hands shake while doing so.

Busy signal.

Caz lets go of the phone, letting it hit the wall. The signal still echoes throughout his head as though it's mocking him.

He can't be alone, he can't. The phone line may just be damaged due to the creature and Finlay is trying to call him just as he was trying to call her. That has to be the reason. It must be.

He goes to the door and his hand rests on the handle for only a few seconds. Maybe, just maybe-

Caz opens the door and slams it before he finishes the thought. The longer he stayed in the room with Roy, the more the thought would've seemed more pleasing. He won't do that. Not if there's a chance he can kill this thing.

Caz walks outside, careful not to slip. In the distance, clouds gather. If the situation wasn't life or death (the traitorous voice in his head whispers if it's really a life or death situation when the outcome is already so clear-) he would grin and laugh off the foreboding feeling being only Rennick kicking him off in the middle of the ocean instead of flying him on the heli.

He looks out from where he's at. The dark itself covers most of the structure aside from the red light coming from far away near him. The creature itself seems to stand tall, though never standing. The galaxy colors swirl around it and he can't help but think just how beautiful it is in a twisted way. It truly holds its own kind of beauty that can only be described as cosmic horror beauty.

Caz nearly gives himself a whiplash from how fast he turns his head away from it. The color that was slowly surrounding his vision fades away. He almost wonders if that's how it got some of his crew.

In the distance, he hears something.

A heli.

Caz runs to the opposite end of the platform he's standing on, looking out over the looming darkness and clouds. The chopping of the blades gets hope circling through him. Maybe, just maybe, the bastard of a boss actually called someone before taking off or perhaps Finlay got something to work.

"Hey," Caz begins waving his hands far above his head, shouting at the top of his lungs to the point he can feel his voice straining, "hey, I'm here! We're here!" He damn near begins jumping up and down until he remembers that platform is wet from earlier rainfall. He feels relief rise up within him as he continues his shouting and waving.

He may actually be going home. He may actually make it back home to his two girls. He may make it back to Suze. "Please!" The heli, much to his nervousness, seems to hover in one place. "No, no, please, wait!" His voice cracks.

After a moment, it begins flying closer, this time a bit slower. As it gets closer, Caz is barely able to read the words in white on the side: SCP.

SCP?

Caz halts as the feeling he was feeling earlier comes back at him. Something isn't right. He was so blinded that he didn't realize something he should've: No regular person would get any closer than they already have, flying or not. No military aircraft to his knowledge even has the words SCP written in all white on the side. No regular rescue heli would have what looks to be guns on the side.

Caz isn't a superstitious man. However, he feels as though he may have just fucking damned himself by the clouds being foreboding.

In instinct alone, he puts his hands up as he stops waving them. The heli is closer now and he can feel the wind coming from the blades. A voice, sounding like a mix between his own accent and American comes through.

"Back up and keep your hands above your head." The voice itself is male. It's demanding and leaves no room for argument. Caz follows what the male says, feeling the relief quickly die.

Jesus fucking Christ. What the fuck has he gotten himself into?

He listens for any noise, but he can't hear anything over the heli. Not even Muir.

Did the people in front of him have something to do with that? Did they kill him? How long have they been here then? How many of them are on the rig?

Caz keeps his distance as the heli lands. Immediately, two people in gear only people from the military could wear jump out. He doesn't dare move as they walk towards him. The two have a type of gun in their hands. He can't tell what ones they are.

Three more jump out with guns pointed. Before he knows it, he's put in cuffs quite roughly. If the situation wasn't dire, he would crack a joke about taking him out to dinner first.

Over their radio, he hears "roger wilco."

"What's your name?" One of them speaks up.

"Cameron McLeary," his voice is anything but steady. The feeling has only gotten worse and he knows damn well that any misstep in front of the military people will most likely result in death. The men holding the guns lower them into resting positions when the man who spoke to him waves his hand.

"Archer," the man--Archer-- introduces. "Are you a worker here?" At Caz's nod, Archer meets his eyes in disbelief. "You're fucking with me. You're here, sapient, and an actual human. How long have you been here?"

"A while." Caz focuses on the ocean crashing against the rig as thunder booms in the distance almost as though the sky itself is raging. At what, exactly, he doesn't know.

(Faintly, he recalls his friends' dead body and how close he was to getting that insulin. His friend could still be alive right now.)

"Are you fine?"

Caz paused his thinking on Roy at the question. Is he fine? Is he fine? He's been towing the line of life and death for that past however many hours and he's asking if he's fine?

The man seems to see his look. "Right, stupid question. I need to be more specific. Are you experiencing anything odd as in sudden nausea, spikes of dizziness, and odd hallucinations?" There's something in Archer's tone that isn't right. It's sharper.

"Yeah," Caz ignores his inner voice screaming at him to not say anything, "yeah. All of the above."

Archer hums. It's only then Caz notices a man hanging in his peripheral. Caz's heart sinks even lower.

Something pokes him in the neck.

Caz thrashes, but Archer's hold is unmoving and tight. He feels himself grabbed by someone else as restrained. He doesn't even know what he's doing other than the fact he needs to get away-

His vision darkens and he realizes just how fast he's losing any sort of coherence. He wonders just what the ever-living fuck they put into him because no drug should work that fast-

The last few words he can make out make him realize just how much shit he just got himself into: