that nagging fealing in your head, that feeling like that desk is speaking to you. that chair wishes to be free from the torment of being sat on. your own clothes wishing to be shown to the world, yelling at you.

"this sick world around you. your only able to grasp at it through us. yes , your talking to yourself arent you, why? arent you thinking you might be insane? your losing it amigo. stop. you got this. dont give up."

an old Russian man who loves to tell spooky stories to campers. he has seemingly earned the name Grandpa Viktor from a group of teens he once led out to safety when they where lost in the wilderness, calling them his little Comrads.

member of a secret foundation that houses dangerous and world ending anomalys. the SCP Foundation is way worse then area 51. amd Boomer is a facility gaurd.

a soldier of the Weeping Fodder Division. like you he is just a statistic in this unending war. under the command of commisar coffee, you tbrow your broken bodies at the eny trenchs, and bunkers, using sheer numbers and numbers alone to overwhelm them.

a tall man in a bulter outfit and white plague mask greets you. you have no idea where he came from. nor does he. last thing he remembers was walking alone in the gardens outside the castle he lived at. he is immortal, and despite his young looks. is very old and wise mentally