Clark had done his research. Public interviews, dated newspapers, police case records he may or may not have stolen.
It all lead here.
In hindsight, it was embarrassingly obvious that this was the place. Although he supposed this was a case of hiding in plain sight.
Clark felt the rumblings of the cars driving above him on the bridge, the stench of car exhaust heavy in the air.
Beneath the road bridge, was the tunnel. The outside had long been covered in graffiti and gang symbols, the concrete cracked and old. The tunnel itself looked less like a built passage, and more like some narrow hole that looked like it had been burrowed into.
Clark had already wondered why the city never fixed the hole, or at least close it off from public access. But now he knew.
Without a moment of hesitation. He hunched over, and went inside the hole.
With each step, the clouded sunlight began fading and soon enough, he was half walking and crawling through the cramped, rugged, tunnel.
He wasn’t sure if the tunnel was getting narrowing or if he was starting to hallucinate, but he kept going regardless.
This was the only way in. They had made sure of that. If there was any other way to sneak into the facility, Clark would have taken it, but since there was, Clark would have to play their game. Except this time, he would change the rules up a bit. He thought patting his left pocket, feeling the comforting weight of the item he kept inside.
By now, Clark imagined anyone foolish enough to crawl into the tunnel in the first place probably would’ve turned tail by now. Only the truly crazed or determined would’ve kept going. Clark was fairly confident he was both.
Half hour into his tunnel crawling, Clark could already feel his back start to ache.
Two more hours later, he didn’t have to worry about that anymore since the tunnel had narrowed so tightly that he had been forced to continue crawling. Trying his best not to scrape his limbs too hard off the rocks.
Finally, around the fourth hour of crawling, the tunnel had shrunken too much. He was too big now, the tunnel walls were pressing against his body on all sides. If he continued any further, he’d risk getting stuck between the rocks, unable to move.
This was the point where he was supposed to give up. To realize that all he had done was pointless. That he should go back and just accept defeat, to leave and never return...
Not on his watch.
Reaching into his pocket, he gripped onto the cold, hard metal of his trinket. An item he had nicked quite a while ago. It was a wonder they had never tracked him down.
He felt it in his palm for a moment, feeling the smooth, masterfully crafted material.
As he help the miniature octopus sculpture in his hand, everything seemed to change. The tunnel flooded, now becoming completely filled to the brim with water.
Micro coral and small barely visible sea life almost popped into existence around, tiny fish scurrying about.
If he wasn’t in such a cramped, confined environment, he would’ve been in awe, the amazement no less intense as the first time he had used the trinket. Thankfully this time, he knew what was about to happen, so that amazement wasn’t also coupled with the sudden realization of being underwater and the fear of being unable to breath... only to realize he could.
Clark felt his body change, limbs splitting into tendrils, his head almost seemed to melt into his torso, and all hair fell off as his skin turn smooth, almost rubbery.
In the span of several seconds, Clark became a octopus creature. His senses expanded. Nerves and synaptic connections now enlarged. Despite the non existent light, he could see clearly, the world now coated in a strange bluish green filter and the once rough squeezing stone tunnel now felt comfortable thanks to his now malleable body.
In one of his tentacles, he still held the small octopus sculpture, now that he looker at it though, it now suddenly looked incredibly old and rusted, as if it has spent the past decades at the bottom of the sea.
Better make sure to keep this safe, Clark thought, as with his new nimble octopus form, he half crawled half swam through the tunnel.
He was hesitant at first to use the sculpture, but now that he had used it, he regretted not using it from the start. He was practically speeding through the tunnel now.
In the back of his mind, Clark did wonder how the staff enter and left this place. There had to be another faster way in, although what that way in is... Clark had no idea... a concern best left for another time though. Up ahead, he could see a bright light, one that stood in contrast compared to the ethereal lighting he was seeing.
The entrance... so the tunnel really was an entrance.
With great excitement, he swam out of the tunnel hole, into a new underground room. Tempted to yell out with joy as he stretched out all his new limbs, letting them get used ti the feeling of unconfinement. The entire room was made of solid, rough rock. Completely barren. Save for one key feature.
The vault door... made of a strange metal that almost seemed to ripple and shudder at the slightest touch.
Inscribed perfectly into the metal was a symbol he knew all too well.
He was here. After so many years, he’s finally found it. The Foundation. The SCP Foundation