Right, the "Chronologies of Chaos" left me feeling like I'd just crammed for a history exam written by Kafka and edited by a particularly grumpy poltergeist. Fascinating, mind you, especially the conflicting accounts of M.E.G.'s rise – shadowy cabal or just the universe's most organised complaints department? Either way, they were clearly central to the whole messy business of trying not to get eaten/erased/folded into origami. The Library supposedly had backups of their database, encrypted or not. Time to see if my Library card (metaphorical, sadly, no laminated plastic here) granted access to the juicy bits.
Finding the 'M.E.G. Archive' section wasn't straightforward. It wasn't brazenly signposted like 'Philosophy' or 'Travel'. It was tucked away down a side aisle, past 'Cryptozoology (Dubious)' and 'Applied Thaumaturgy (Theoretical Only, Please Do Not Attempt),' marked only by a small, unassuming plaque that read "Organisational Records - Restricted Access (Mostly)." Luckily, 'mostly restricted' seemed to mean 'if you look like you belong here and don't try to set anything on fire, the Librarians won't boot you into the void.' Good enough for me.
The shelves here looked different – less wood, more utilitarian metal, crammed with grey binders, data slates that occasionally flickered with static, and surprisingly few actual bound books. It felt less like a library, more like the world's most depressing server room. After a bit of cautious browsing (half-expecting an M.E.G. agent in full tactical gear to rappel down and demand my credentials), I found what looked like a series of standardised reports. My eyes snagged on a slim, unassuming grey folder. The label was stark, printed in block capitals: THREAT ANALYSIS: SMILER (Rev. 17b). The Call Number affixed by a Librarian was QL89.2 .S6 M4 2043. Zoology of Monsters, perhaps? 'S6' for Smiler, 'M4' for M.E.G.? Seemed plausible. Below the title, in smaller print: Cognitive Hazard Scrubbed Edition - Displaying this document outside designated safe zones is grounds for immediate disciplinary action (See Regulation 4.Δ.9). Right then, sounds like light reading.
This was pure Backrooms Book material, distilled M.E.G. bureaucracy attempting to clinically dissect pure nightmare fuel. It smelled faintly of disinfectant, hot electronics, and that specific kind of institutional dread you get in hospitals or tax offices. I took it back to my nook – the pot plant seemed to actually recoil slightly this time, or maybe I was projecting – and settled in.
The document wasn't written in flowing prose. It was bullet points, tables, cross-references, and dry, detached descriptions that somehow made the horror even worse.
M.E.G. THREAT ANALYSIS FILE
Designation: Smiler (Colloquial: "Grinner," "Wall-Face," "Shiny Teeth Bastard")
Threat Classification: Amber-Red (Variable - Dependent on Environment/Proximity/Lighting Conditions)
First Recorded Encounter: [DATE REDACTED - Temporal Anomaly Conflict] - Earliest credible accounts trace to Level 2 exploratory teams. Pre-M.E.G. sightings likely but poorly documented (See "Chronologies of Chaos," Vol. 1, Appendix F: 'Pre-Literate Depictions of Tooth-Based Aggressors').
Primary Habitats: Levels 2, 3, Darkened areas of Level 4, Level !, occasionally reported in anomalous shadowed regions of normally 'safe' Levels (e.g., Level 11 power outages, Level 6 infrastructural collapses). NB: Reports concerning Smiler variants in Level Fun remain unverified and potentially related to distinct entity subtype 'Partygoers' – FIELD AGENTS: DO NOT CONFUSE LETHAL THREATS.
Physiology (Observed/Inferred):
Form: Typically manifests as a disembodied pair of reflective eyes and an excessively wide, tooth-filled grin, seemingly floating in darkness. No other visible body parts are consistently reported. The source of illumination/reflectivity is unknown; does not appear to require external light source.
Footnote 1: Debate persists regarding whether Smilers possess unseen physical bodies or are purely visual/light-based phenomena. Autopsies... problematic. Preliminary analysis of environmental interaction (displaced air, residual bio-luminescence) suggests some physical presence, but form remains indeterminate. Avoid grappling attempts. Seriously.
Visual Acuity: Assumed high, particularly in low-light conditions. Seems attracted to direct light sources (flashlights, lanterns) and direct eye contact.
Auditory Perception: Unknown. Does not appear to react consistently to sound, though sudden loud noises may cause temporary retreat (or immediate attack, results inconclusive - See Incident Report 2-Gamma-44b: 'Private Jenkins and the Air Horn Incident'). Best practice: maintain silence.
Mobility: Capable of rapid, silent movement, seemingly gliding or teleporting short distances within shadows. Can traverse walls and ceilings. Speed estimates vary wildly, often exceeding baseline human sprint capability, particularly during interception phase.
Behavioural Patterns:
Stealth Predation: Primarily ambush predators. Remain hidden in darkness, revealing only eyes and grin upon detecting prey (wanderer). Often remains motionless initially, assessing the target.
Light/Gaze Sensitivity: Exhibits negative phototaxis (aversion to bright, direct light) but is paradoxically attracted towards light sources from a distance, likely as a hunting stimulus. Direct eye contact is strongly correlated with initiation of aggressive behaviour. AVERT YOUR GAZE. Standard procedure: peripheral observation only.
Attack Vector: Extremely fast lunge from darkness. Nature of attack varies: reports include high-speed collision causing blunt force trauma, rapid exsanguination via unseen means, and complete disappearance of the victim ('phased consumption'? Cognitive blind spot?). High lethality rate upon successful ambush.
Footnote 2: Some reports aligned with Fandom database entries suggest Smilers may attempt to psychologically torment prey before attacking, mimicking voices or creating auditory hallucinations. Wikidot-aligned data emphasizes purely physical, swift attacks. M.E.G. protocol: assume worst-case scenario (both psychological warfare and immediate dismemberment). Treat all auditory anomalies near suspected Smiler presence with extreme prejudice.
Social Structure: Generally solitary hunters, though multiple Smilers may inhabit the same shadowed area, creating extremely hazardous zones. No evidence of co-operative hunting or communication. Treat each Smiler as an independent threat.
Countermeasures & Survival:
Maintain Light Discipline: Avoid unnecessary use of flashlights in known Smiler territory. If light is essential, use low-intensity, indirect beams. Flares can act as temporary deterrents but may attract multiple entities.
Do NOT Engage Eye Contact: Standard Operating Procedure. Look slightly away, focus on the environment around the manifestation.
Seek Well-Lit Areas: Smilers rarely manifest in brightly, consistently lit zones. Movement between safe zones should be planned to minimize time spent in darkness or shadow.
Noise Discipline: Maintain silence. Avoid sudden movements or loud noises that could attract attention.
Retreat Vectors: If detected, do not run blindly into darkness. Retreat towards known light sources or defensible positions, maintaining peripheral awareness of the entity's position. Never turn your back fully. Zig-zagging may complicate pursuit (unproven).
Weaponry: Conventional firearms have limited/inconsistent effect. High-lumen tactical flashlights ('Strobe' function) can cause temporary disorientation/retreat but are not reliable stopping power. Incendiary devices show moderate effectiveness but carry obvious environmental risks. Experimental sonic weaponry results pending (See Project Nightingale - CLASSIFIED). Recommended: Avoidance is paramount. Do not engage unless absolutely necessary for escape.
Cognitive Hazard Warning (Scrubbed Elements Summary):
[REDACTED - Description of visual cognitohazard inducing paralysis/panic]
[REDACTED - Analysis of auditory mimicry memetic effects]
[REDACTED - Speculation on reality-warping properties during consumption events]
Note: Even in scrubbed form, prolonged focus on Smiler descriptions may induce heightened paranoia, scotophobia (fear of darkness), and pareidolia (seeing faces in random patterns). Recommend breaks and exposure to neutral stimuli (e.g., standard M.E.G. Relaxation Mandelbrot sequence) after review.
Conclusion: Smilers represent a significant and persistent threat across multiple Levels. Their stealth, speed, and high lethality make avoidance the primary survival strategy. Adherence to light discipline and gaze aversion protocols is critical. Further research into effective deterrents is ongoing but hampered by the high risks involved in direct observation and interaction. Field Operative Prime Directive: Do Not Become Smiler Chow.
I let out a breath I didn't realise I'd been holding. Blimey. Reading that dry, clinical breakdown of something so pants-wettingly terrifying was... unsettling. It was like reading a health and safety manual for navigating a minefield infested with invisible sharks armed with chainsaws. The detached tone, the careful classification, the footnotes arguing about how exactly you get horribly murdered – it was pure Backrooms survival distilled into bleak bureaucracy. The subtle jabs about conflicting Wikidot / Fandom reports (psychological torture vs. instant munching) only added to the sense that even the 'experts' were just making educated guesses based on who screamed loudest before vanishing.
The "Cognitive Hazard Scrubbed... Probably" subtitle felt particularly cheeky. Even reading the safe version made the shadows in my reading nook seem a bit deeper, the silence a bit more pregnant with possibility. I resolutely did not look too closely at the dark gaps between bookshelves.
Right, time for the blessed routine. A transition back to comfortable normality. Almond Water first – cool, neutral, washing away the metallic taste of fear the M.E.G. report induced. Protein bar – today's flavour was 'Enigmatic Citrus', which tasted suspiciously like lemon-scented cleaning fluid, but beggars can't be choosers. As I ate, I deliberately focused on the mundane details of the Library: the intricate wood grain on the table, the gentle, unwavering glow of the lanterns, the soft rustle of pages turned by another wanderer down the aisle. This place, this absolute haven of predictable reality (well, predictable Library reality), felt like the ultimate Smiler repellent. All calm, all light, no nasty surprises lurking just beyond your flashlight beam.
Post-snack tidying felt especially therapeutic. I returned the M.E.G. Smiler file to its cold metal shelf. Sliding it back felt like locking a nasty little beastie back in its cage. Nearby sat other M.E.G. reports: "Hound Neurosonics: Preliminary Findings," "Skin-Stealer Camouflage Techniques: A Comparative Analysis," and a rather thick binder labelled "Level ! Traversal: Recommended Practices vs. Actual Outcomes (Highly Discouraged Reading)." Tempting, perhaps, for a more morbid day. For now, I straightened a nearby Frontroom Book – "The Complete Idiot's Guide to Birdwatching." The juxtaposition almost made me laugh out loud. Identifying finches felt like a positively zen activity compared to identifying which specific brand of floating nightmare grin was about to end your Backrooms career.
As I organized, the genealogist wanderer shuffled past, giving me a polite nod. "Delving into the official archives, are we?" he murmured, gesturing towards the M.E.G. shelf with his chin. "Fascinating stuff, if you can stay awake through the acronyms. Though I find their historical sections," he added with a slight twinkle in his eye, "sometimes differ amusingly from the Committee's 'Chronologies'." Another nod to the conflicting narratives swirling through this place. We chatted briefly about the sheer volume of information here, the endless task of trying to make sense of it all. His calm, scholarly persistence was a comforting counterpoint to the M.E.G.'s grim operational focus.
Reading the M.E.G. file, clinical as it was, brought the entities back to the forefront of my mind. Finch's journal gave the fear, the M.E.G. file gave the 'facts' (such as they were). It made me wonder about the other denizens of this place. Hounds were classic, ubiquitous. Skin-Stealers too. But what about the weirder ones? The more obscure critters mentioned in passing in some texts? Maybe something less overtly aggressive, more… bizarre? Like those Facelings, mentioned by K.M. as pointless to psychoanalyze. Or perhaps something unique to a specific Level or timeline? Time to browse the QL section again, perhaps looking for something a bit more 'niche' in the bestiary. Something less 'jump scare,' more 'existential head-scratcher.' That felt like a good direction after the stark terror of the Smiler report.