Dr. Marcus Hale tapped his commlink nervously as he and Dr. Evelyn Shaw approached the massive reinforced steel door of SCP-002's containment chamber.
"Ready for this?" Evelyn asked, her voice calm but tinged with unease.
Marcus swallowed hard. "As ready as I'll ever be. Every time I think about what's behind this door... I get chills."
Evelyn gave him a reassuring smile. "We've trained for this. Just remember the protocols. Stay together. Keep your suit sealed. No sudden moves."
He nodded, heart pounding. "Right. Teamwork."
The door hissed open, and a thick, humid air wafted out. The faint rhythmic thumping of what sounded like a heartbeat pulsed from within.
Marcus shined his flashlight into the chamber. "I swear, it's like the thing is alive."
Evelyn's voice lowered. "It is alive, Marcus. That's the terrifying part."
They stepped inside, boots sinking slightly into the fleshy floor. Around them, the walls and ceiling twisted into familiar shapes — a sofa, a battered television set, a low coffee table all grotesquely crafted from bone, hair, and tissue.
Marcus swallowed. "How does something like this... grow? How is it even possible?"
Evelyn checked the readings on her tablet. "From the tests, it converts living human tissue into these... furnishings. But not just any tissue it has to be alive. Cadavers don't trigger growth."
Marcus's gaze lingered on a lamp woven from pale strands of hair and bone. "We've lost seven people already. Seven. And it's still growing."
Evelyn glanced at him with a grim expression. "That's why the security protocols are so strict. Two-person minimum, physical contact at all times. If you lose sight of your partner or feel... weird, you alert immediately."
He shuddered. "I don't think any of us truly understand what 'weird' means with this thing."
Later, during a briefing with the site's security chief, Captain Ramirez, Marcus and Evelyn went over the containment procedures.
Ramirez's voice was sharp. "Listen up. SCP-002 requires constant power to stay 'recharging.' If the power cuts out, we seal the chamber and evacuate immediately. You'll see bursts of X-ray and UV light until power is restored."
Marcus interjected, "Why the strobe lights?"
"Disorient and suppress the entity's biological activity. Keeps it from expanding uncontrollably."
Evelyn frowned. "And if it breaches?"
Ramirez didn't flinch. "That's what we're here to prevent."
A week into the project, Marcus sat in the observation room, staring at the video feed from inside the chamber.
"I keep thinking I hear voices," he confessed to Evelyn during a break.
She frowned. "You're not imagining things. The Mulhausen Report mentions whispered voices and distant cries. Some think it's memetic influence."
Marcus sighed. "It's getting harder to focus. I've been waking up drenched in sweat, nightmares of those faces trapped inside."
Evelyn placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You're strong, Marcus. But we'll get through this. Together."
One afternoon, while conducting an experiment introducing a remote-controlled drone into the chamber, Marcus's curiosity overwhelmed him.
"There's a hatch," he told Evelyn, pointing to a small iron door embedded in the fleshy wall. "I've never seen it open before."
Evelyn's eyes widened. "Don't get any ideas. It's sealed for a reason."
But Marcus's eyes were already fixed on the hatch. "I just want to see what's inside."
Evelyn hesitated. "If you insist, I want full security measures. No solo trips."
That night, Marcus prepared to enter the hatch's interior with a small team.
Captain Ramirez led security while Dr. Kaldis monitored psychological health remotely.
As Marcus stepped through the hatch, the team's comms crackled nervously.
"Marcus, do you copy?" Ramirez's voice came through steady but tense.
"Loud and clear," Marcus replied. "The room... it's... filled with human shapes embedded in the walls. Faces frozen in terror."
Evelyn's voice was shaky. "Are you sure you want to go deeper?"
Suddenly, a guttural growl echoed through the comm channel, followed by static.
"Marcus!" Ramirez shouted, but the line went dead.
Hours later, the recovery team broke through the hatch.
Marcus was found slumped against the fleshy wall, pale and trembling.
Evelyn helped him to his feet. "You okay?"
He looked at her, eyes haunted. "The walls... they know we're here. It's alive in a way I can't explain."
Dr. Kaldis reviewed the footage and Marcus's mental state during the debrief.
"The entity's memetic influence is strong. Your mind may be imprinted with residual trauma."
Marcus nodded slowly. "I don't know if I'm losing my mind or if the Living Room is changing me."
Evelyn squeezed his arm. "We'll get through this. One day at a time."
Days later, Marcus sat alone, writing in his journal:
The Living Room is more than a containment. It's a living prison, a predatory organism shaped by human fear and flesh. Each day I learn a little more but at what cost?
He closed the notebook and looked toward the chamber, knowing this was just the beginning.