VI

The rest of the day seemed like a blur of food delivery and standing with a tray so another person could take some tools and poke things. I was happy to sleep. It didn't last long. We were awoken just as abruptly as the day before. They lined the few of us up, marching us down to the canteen. It was surprisingly packed. People conversed happily, though albeit in a hushed tone. It was as if there were factions in the room and some were better than others. I found myself an empty end of the table, sitting alone with a mushed mess on my tray. I poked it with a fork. I think it moved.

"Hello?"

I looked up slowly, feeling already tired from the day. Readjusting to appear at least somewhat alive I was surprised to see the young anthropologist. She sat across from me, tray full of the same mush. My mouth hung open. I wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. That seemed to be my thing for today.

"You're the girl from the truck, right? Sat next to that sad old man?"

I nodded.

"Can you believe this place?"

"Didn't you leave?" I blurted.

"There was no other location," she cooed, wiggling her fingers. After a short chortle, she shrugged, "A few of us were sent back, is all. I made an impression I guess and was sent back this way for something."

"I see," I replied softly.

"Am I interrupting?"

It felt like my heart stopped in my chest. I was beginning to hate that voice. I glanced up, seeing Thompson leaned on the table, giving the anthropologist a smile and a wink. He pushed me down the bench, taking the seat at the end of the table.

"By no means," the anthropologist replied, waving her hands. "We were just talking about my return."

"You were sent to the facility not too far from here? Heard they had some problems with their containment procedures," he shrugged, still smiling. "Otherwise, a good day?"

"Yes. Long drives aren't always fun but it was nice to talk to the others. Meet people in similar situations."

"I understand," he nodded. "Days young! A lot to do!"

"I'm excited to get involved," she smiled. "I'm ready for my mind to be blown."

"If you're ready for it, it doesn't really work," he shrugged. "Assignment pretty simple today."

"You're the assigner?" She perked.

"For this group," he nodded.

"Oh, I'm so excited!"

I groaned, listening to the two optimistic tones continue. She didn't know the dark side that lingers in this man. Then again, I'm not sure I do either. I've only seen glimpses of his darker nature. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up when I thought about him leaning in to speak to me yesterday.

"I'll be right back," the anthropologist perked, leaving the table with her tray.

Thompson looked at me, resting his chin on his hand. I glared at him. I don't know why but in some way, I was angry with him. It was either him or I was projecting this entire place onto him. He smiled.

"Something wrong, my dear?"

"Leave me alone," I grumbled, turning away.

"Oh, we're not talking now?"

I glared at him, taking a deep sigh.

"How can you be so…happy? People died yesterday."

He chuckled, giving way to almost a howling laughter, but he stifled himself. Slamming his fist on the table, he grabbed my chin and directed my face toward his. The worst part was that his eyes were not shadowed as they were before when his demeanor changed. They still glittered with a fire that made my heart sink. I miss my ignorance.

"People die every day, every second. You didn't care about them before so why should you now?"

I pulled away from him, trying to avoid his gaze. Heart racing, it felt like I was standing off against a lion. Focused eyes, ruffled mane, and teeth bare, I was questioning my survival against this beast, armed only with my limited faith. Lion tamers were better armed than I.

"I stood beside those people. I sat with them in a truck for hours! They were people who had families and friends!"

"Doesn't everyone?"

I bit my lip.

"I got to sleep for my first day and give a lady some sugar. Those two people got killed. Why did I get out of this unscathed?"

"That's a little selfish."

My mouth hung open but I had nothing to say in response. He grinned.

"You think you're so important that you deserve to die more than them?"

He rested his chin on his hand again, looking up at me with flicking eye lashes like a dreaming girl.

"You know why you're here? Our relations with the prisons is slightly disgruntled at the moment. You understand what that means, right?" He looked over at the lunch line with his eyes, poking his chin over. "Most of the Ds here are criminals. Murderers, thieves, rebels…You? That other girl? Those two idiots that died yesterday? You're just slightly above those criminals. You're bottom of the barrel. You don't get to be so self-serving."

"Why is me wanting to die instead of someone else being self-serving?"

"Selfish as in," he nodded, standing up, "you think you have a right to choose who lives and who dies."

I felt slightly dazed, staring down at my lumped mush of food. I stared at it long enough for everything else to fade away to peripheral vision, leaving just a grey mess. I could see each black spot, reflective shimmer from the overhead lights, and every movement it made without aid. I couldn't feel my breath, hear the surrounding noise, or move in any thought. I felt as though I was stone.

"Ready?"

I hadn't noticed when he left and the anthropologist had leaned up to snap me out of my thought. I hadn't eaten but at this point I wasn't hungry. Following her back to the main room, Thompson was waiting. The line was longer than yesterday, since the group the anthropologist was part of had returned to this facility. I eyed the ground. I'm not sure I was ready for the day. The group began falling apart as Thompson sent them out. Reaching the end, there were only three of us left: June, the anthropologist, and me.

"You three lucky ladies can follow me!" he cheered, spinning on his heels and moving toward the adjacent hall.

Moving like ducklings behind their mother, we clung close to his step. I glanced at the windows, hoping to get a glimpse of the outside world. Every glass panel only led into an empty office or lab room. The boring walls and darkened rooms were getting to me. I looked up.

It hadn't occurred to me until this moment but we were all dressed in uniform. White uniforms with black lines, black boots, white caps. The only odd one out was Thompson, who was dressed in tan pants, grey shirt and a flowing lab coat.

"I'd like to remind all of you of the securities in place at this facility," he spoke up suddenly. "In every room, every hall, there will be a camera." He pointed up at a camera we were passing. "They catch everything!"

He stopped suddenly, spinning on his heels to face us. Though he smiled, I could see the shadow in his eyes. His smile, baring teeth, became ominous as he looked at our little group of ducklings. I gulped, looking away. Did he know about my conversation with the SCP from yesterday?

"Everything, my dears," he reiterated. "Such as a taking something they shouldn't."

I perked, looking up. Not me.

He reached over, grabbing the doorknob to the room beside us. The door was solid black with no label. It seemed to give off a dangerous aura. I sighed, trying to not seem scared or anything. I wanted to seem flat. I hope it came across like that.

"Taking anything from SCP-038 is prohibited unless authorized," he spoke harshly, turning the knob. "I'm afraid you're going to need to go this way, miss."

June stood up straight, stepping out from the group. Attempting to stand toe to toe with Thompson, she was revealed to be much smaller than him. Her bubble gum popped. His expression did not change. He opened the door, letting out a small gust of musty air. June glanced in the room but remained unmoved.

"Whatcha gonna do, fire me?" June snapped.

"Wouldn't that be fun?" he hummed. "Please step this way."

"Right," June smirked. "And do what?"

His smile twitched slightly.

"You're being reassigned," he responded. "There's a few SCPs that require…'additional' experimentation. I don't know where you'll be sent, and, honestly, I don't care."

Two shadowy figures emerged from the doorway, grabbing onto June. She jumped as their gloved hands gripped her arms, lifting her off the ground. She struggled, kicking and pulling her arms. The two men carried her into the room, allowing Thompson to shut the door behind them. I gulped.

"She stole something?" the anthropologist spoke up.

"Yes," Thompson nodded. "Luckily, in this case it wasn't anything dangerous but we can't take any error lightly. You understand, yes?"

We nodded.

"Miss, you've been requested specially," Thompson offered, gesturing to her. "Right this way."

We continued following him down the hall, turning left and then the second right. I held up the end of the line, watching the anthropologist's hair bounce along her collar and Thompson's coattails rub against his boots. It created no noise but moved with such grace.

"Where will she go?" the anthropologist eventually spoke.

"They're starting up testing for SCP-004 again," he sighed. "Last few tests weren't very well, at least for the test subjects. Miss, you'll be right here."

We stopped by another door. This one was familiar with the plaque of to the side. Thompson opened the door quickly, revealing the familiar interior and man seated at his desk. He stood up, motioning for us to enter. I stood in the doorway as Thompson led the anthropologist in. She shook the man's hand and sat in front of his desk. They exchanged pleasantries as Thompson shuffled me out.

"What's happening?" I asked.

"She's getting a…promotion," he explained, continuing down the hall. "A girl of her knowledge and expertise could be useful for the time being."

"And me?"

He stopped. There were no doors near us, just empty walls. I took in a deep breath. He was going to say something condescending again. I was going to fight him. We were going to argue again over right and wrong. Sure enough, he turned on his heels, giving me a sly little smile.

"I'm giving you a choice," he prompted.

I didn't know how to respond, and he picked that up right away.

"At breakfast, we were talking about life and death," he responded.

"Right, I'm selfish," I groaned, crossing my arms.

"Exactly," he nodded, "You felt so bad that those two nobodies died instead of you, so I'm giving you an option today." He leaned in. "You can pick between SCP-1723 or SCP-049. SCP-1723 is considered safe. Nothing lethal. 049 on the other hand can be quite deadly."

"So, I get to pick?"

"Whichever you pick, I've got a guy to take the other one," he grinned. "You wanted to be the big hero, eh?"

"Why are you doing this to me!?" I shouted, poking him in the chest. "Why me? Aren't there some puppies you could be kicking?"

He chuckled slightly.

"You are a puppy, sweet heart," he snickered. "People come to this place already broken. You on the other hand seem to think you're gonna get out of this place in one piece. No one really leaves this place. It will haunt you for the rest of your life. You either die to something stupid or something you never imagined or you'll get your mind wiped clean and left in the middle of nowhere. Life sucks. Give up."

I shook my head but didn't say anything.

"Pick."

I sighed, looking up at him. He seemed so confident, hands on his hip and smiling from ear to ear. I looked him dead in the eye and for the first time since I got here, I smiled.