Chapter 2
"O'Reilly to med bay! I repeat, O'Reilly to med bay! I need a response immediately!" I yelled into the walkie talkie that was set on the monitors that looked out over Banshee's cell.
"Med Bay to O'Reilly, what's the emergency?"
"I need a med team down to SCP zero-nine-six's cell! Somebody, I don't know who, has put a long mirror on one of the walls of its cell!"
"What exactly is the emergency, O'Reilly?"
"Zero nine six has seen its own reflection! It's on the ground, shrieking and scratching at itself!"
"Stand by, a med team will be there shortly".
To say Banshee's cell was a mess was the understatement of the century. In the faint light, there was an inky black substance, I assumed to be blood, all over the floor and some on the walls. Bits of torn, pale flesh were strewn across the room. And there, looking more pitiful than intimidating, was Banshee.
The best way I can describe Banshee is basically like this: If the Rake and Slenderman got married and had a baby, Banshee would probably be what the baby would look like as an adult. He was mostly pale gray in color, though had no pigmentation in his skin or eyes. His arms and legs were grossly out of proportion with his body, which was incredibly thin and malnourished. From a distance, he looked like an overgrown spider. He appeared to be blind, but now we knew better. Granted we also knew his sight wasn't the best, and he relied more on echolocation than any other sense, surprisingly. My father never formally got to work with him. He only lived long enough to give him a nickname and jot down a few behavioral notes, but that was it. He was killed before any other attempts at a personal session were made. Perhaps, most thought, it was for the better.
But then I found something else that about made my blood freeze in my veins. Looking over at the motion sensor cameras, I saw Banshee wasn't exactly alone. Some of the inky black substance I thought was blood actually wasn't. And then I heard it…
It was a somewhat metallic sound, like the beating of a dark heart. I watched from the control room in horror as the black inky substance formed into the shape of a man, elderly but appearing to be decomposing. The smell of rotten flesh hit me even through the metal door. I almost threw up as I forced myself to look away from the camera.
SCP Item number 106, the Old Man, or, as my dad and a lot of other researchers and agents called him, for some reason, Radical Larry had somehow broken containment and was now here in Banshee's cell. This thing had been my nightmare fuel since childhood. He had a knack for dragging people into his pocket dimension, usually when they were hurt and easy prey. I faintly remember hearing the screams of a victim at a demonstration after my father died. The Foundation wanted me to understand completely that not all SCPs were human creatures and that not all could or wanted to be helped. It saddened me at first, but after watching that D-Class be taken to that unknown dimension and then spat back out as a horrid corpse some time later I understood what couldn't be done. So no, I never worked with "Radical Larry" and I never wanted to.
But I knew I couldn't leave Banshee in alone with him, not like this when he wouldn't be able to stand a chance should Larry decide to do anything. For me, there was no choice or chance. For patients, for my friends, I'd do anything to keep them safe. I had to get Larry away from Banshee somehow, even if it killed me.
And knowing my luck, it probably would.
I moved quickly from my hiding place, back to the steel door of his containment cell. I pounded on the door as loudly as I could, hoping to get Larry's attention. When I looked at the camera, Larry was looming over Banshee. I cursed and ran back to the door, beating it even harder despite the pain in my hands. I started screaming.
"Larry! Larry, you sick tar covered bastard!" I screamed between hits on the door.
The old man then turned to the camera, almost as if he knew I was the one beating on the door. He gave me a malicious grin, but I didn't dare falter in my hits. I was terrified, truth be told, but I needed to save Banshee at all costs.
"Come and get me, you son of a bitch" I dared him.
His grin widened and suddenly the door behind me corroded black. I moved away before any of it could get on me, but the door was almost completely destroyed. Larry made his way through, grinning at me the entire time as he did. I backed away until I hit the wall opposite of him. Larry didn't quicken his pace, he had no need to. He had me in a corner. I breathed hard and stared at the Keter class SCP wide eyed, but determined to save the life of my patient and friend. Larry didn't stop until he was right in front of me.
Hello child, do you remember me? His voice was like a strained, dark whisper in my head.
"Y…yes, I remember….how could I forget?"
Hm…well you're not much of a child anymore…far from it, I see. He sniffed. You smell awfully nice…it's been far too long.
"Get the hell away from me!" I yelled boldly, picking up a nearby flashlight.
Based on what I read about this SCP, it hated light in all of its forms. If he got any closer, all I had to do was shine the light in his face and he'd back off, possibly going back to his dimension. He laughed darkly. I didn't like where this was going…
Such a brave one. His grin didn't falter. But not too smart, I'm afraid.
I knew courage didn't mean intelligence. I didn't care how smart or not this was. I only wanted to save my friend. I put my finger on the button of the flash light, but didn't respond to his comment. Larry continued.
The last I saw you, you were so small, so fearful. It appears they've been hiding you from me.
His hand reached out for me and I pressed the button on the light. I cursed, as it was dead. Larry let out a loud, almost hyena like laugh and I tried to inch my face away. But his fingertips caught my left cheek and forced me to look at him. It stung, badly. It was like acid being poured into a single spot, burning a lot slower than what it should've been. I trembled, partly from fear, but mostly from pain.
How fun would it be to watch you rot…And take my time picking what's left off your bones.
He inched closer, his face right there in front of mine. It was horrible, the stench combined with his touch. I closed my eyes, certain this was it. But Larry simply laughed and pulled away from me.
Perhaps some other time. Maybe when you least expect it. It'd be much more fun that way. And besides…the best mind game just so happens to be no mind game at all. He laughed maniacally and disappeared into his pocket dimension.
His laugh echoed in my head. I slid down the wall, holding my burning cheek and sobbing my eyes out. I dropped the flashlight and it immediately turned on. I didn't care, I just hoped the burning wouldn't spread to my whole face. I suddenly felt weak and light headed, drained of all energy. My vision blackened and I knew nothing else.
It was night when I came back to myself. I was in the infirmary, a pounding in my head.
"Carson!" I heard Jiminy's voice to my left and I turned my head, "She's okay! Doctor Clef, she's awake!"
Wait, why was Doctor Clef here? I turned the other way to see Alto Clef, one of the few researchers specializing on reality benders. Most didn't like him, and for fairly good reasons. Imagine being drugged at a seminar by muffins laced with some kind of hallucination inducing drug that made it seem like Clef himself was a reality bender. Hell it's been called into question many times among the therapists that worked in my site if he actually was a reality bender himself. I personally never had an issue with him, but I sure as hell would never take food from him.
From the outside he was a suspicious character enough. To me it appeared he had dark sandy colored hair and two different colored eyes. One was a bright green color and the other a bright blue. He was pale skinned, but not too much so that he looked dead. I remembered being terrified of him as a little kid, especially when he tried to offer me food after my father died.
"Doctor Clef…What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Stay down" he instructed, "106 took a lot of you".
"A lot of what exactly? I feel sick to my stomach and my head is hurting like crazy".
"Well he drained energy out of the flashlight we found with you and he may have drained you of some of your energy. Something we've never actually seen him do before. It would appear though that our inter-dimensional traveling friend has found a new food source".
"He feeds on energy now? Crap…"
"More than likely it's not gonna be an everyday thing. Knowing him, he probably just did this to shock or even scare you".
"Well, I'll tell you what, it worked".
"At least he didn't take you to his pocket dimension".
"Good point…"
"He's getting stronger from it though…but never you mind that. Doctor Cool sent me after he heard about your little mishap".
I sighed and looked down. Dr. Cool was an O-5, meaning he was one of the top dogs in the Foundation. Since Cool more than likely knew everything about this, except my side of it of course, for the time being I was probably in huge trouble. Cool was like a second father to me. After my dad died, Dr. Cool made sure I wasn't put into the foster care system. He became my legal guardian and taught me everything he could teach me about the Foundation and my father's work. He was a hard man, but not unnecessarily cruel. It was expected when you worked here. His heart had become stone years ago. How he did it, how he was able to stand that, was still beyond me.
"Is he coming to hear my side of things?" I asked, petting Jiminy in my lap.
"Well, partly. Otherwise, he's not coming alone. See, he also wanted me to relay a message to you".
"What is it?"
"You're about to have a new client".
"A new patient…a new SCP is coming here?!"
"Precisely, and it's one the good doctor says you'd be quite interested in".
"Which one?"
"The Plague Doctor".
I stopped petting Jiminy and my heart nearly leapt into my throat. I shook my head and gave Clef a half suspicious, half are you serious kind of look.
"049 is coming here?" Jiminy beat me to the question.
"He sure is. Doctor Cool thinks you're ready for him, Carson. Do you understand what this means? He trusts you now".
"But he shouldn't" I objected, "After what just happened! Clef, 106 could've killed me. Wait a minute, I almost forgot! Banshee, is he okay?!".
Clef gave me a hint of a smile. "Oh 096 is fine. He has some infections from the wounds he gave himself, probably from his exposure to 106. Specialists have put him on some antibiotic or so that has to be fed to him for a month. But besides that, he'll live".
"And has 106 been re-contained?"
"Thankfully yes, it took us a few hours but we got him back in".
"Oh thank god. Do they know who put the mirror in Banshee's cell?"
"Doctor Cool himself is looking into it. No one authorized this…experiment I guess, so I'm assuming he's going to make it a federal offense, possibly punishable by termination".
"Yeah when he finds out, don't tell me who it is. I may just have to terminate them myself".
"Oh now we can't have that".
"So how long will it be before he gets here 049?"
"It could take as much as a week. We're preparing a cell for him and everything".
"Thank you, Doctor Clef. I appreciate it. Hey, but what about my session with Dra-682?"
"Oh you can call them by your nicknames for them with me. As for your session, well, it'll have to rescheduled for at least another three days. Something Draco won't be too disappointed of, I assure you. But you need to rest, O'Reilly. You need it".
"Thanks again Doctor Clef".
"Oh think nothing of it. I'll take…Jiminy…back to his cell".
"But…but I wants to stay" Jiminy's big black eyes watered.
"Sorry little guy" I said, "You know the rules".
"I can come see you tomorrow?"
"I'll be looking forward to it".
Author's note: I don't own Dr. Clef or Dr. Cool. Dr. Cool is Haunted Reader's persona on youtube and I think all the other sites and social media he's a part of. He may have a big part in this story if Haunted would get back to me about making him a full time character. The only character I'm gonna probably own in this story are Carson O'Reilly and her dad, Derrick and maybe some OCs you don't recognize. The nicknames of the SCPs I come up with mostly myself. Anyway, please leave a review and I'll see you guys next chapter.
