From: Dr. [REDACTED]

To: SRCB

While my departure from the SCP Containment center was sudden and recent, I believe I can be of some importance to your organization. There is an...entity...whom I believe you would be most interested in. While it currently is still in SCP possession, I have profiled this SCP over 6 times. I know what this SCP can do. I know that it's a key to something much greater.

I believe we can help each other.

From: SRCB

To: Dr. [REDACTED]

We accept.

Warner leaned back at his desk. A dark blood red wine in his hand and a stain on his shirt near the second button. He was thoroughly please with himself. The SCP would regret letting him go. He was sure of it.

For days the soured doctor had been stewing in his own hatred and loathing. Losing his beloved job was one thing, losing it because of Dreyfus was another. Dreyfus had a way of obliviously taking everything from him. Warner felt that he couldn't even count the things the man had his hands on that obviously belonged to him.

"Not this time" he brought the glass to his lips and took a controlled sip. "I was trying not to get drunk..." He chastised himself when he started to feel the buzz.

Warner had been kicked out of his files, his emails, even his company car was taken. His sandy blonde hair was disheveled and he hadn't taken a bath in days. He was constantly inebriated and his hands shook with inner rage. Dreyfus had everything...

Everything that belongs to me.

Not this time. I've got someone better on my side.

Emre had fell into a very uncomfortable silence while Able cherished the quiet. It wasn't that Emre didn't like quiet too. It was that Able forced silence upon her. Emre liked to talk when she was ready and be quiet when she was ready. So feeling forced to be silent felt completely...wrong. They were about a mile away from the house to the north east to reach the sheep, goat and cow pasture that was separated from the other enclosures. Able hadn't been any help the whole entire day and instead opted for watching her work. She tried to give him buckets of feed, pitchforks to spread hay and even gave him the simple job of turning on the water faucet for the cows water trough. None of which he did. He was completely insufferable. Miserable even.

Able was cold. He decided that he hated the cold. He also decided that he really hated the female that was given power over him. He wouldn't do it. A female telling him what to do? No. It would not work.

But this was better than the facility. A thousand times better. The cold, crisp air was not recycled. Or drugged. It was fresh. It made his nose crinkle.

Able walked behind the girl, his body heat prevented him from shivering, but the girl wasn't much of a shivering meat bag either. She was clearly used to the weather. At some point, when he wasn't watching her, she had pulled her hair into a Loose bun. Her long curls were beginning to fall out of it, framing her face and making the bun bob with every step she took.

She is attractive. He decided with carelessness. More of an observation than admiration.

He looked at the back of her head, where the bun loosely bobbed. But prettier when her mouth is closed.

"This is the sheep pen." Her voice, that Able quickly trained himself to be irritated with reached his ears. He was less irritated with this comment,

Sheep were his favorite.

"Oh no!" Emre suddenly gasped. She dropped the buckets in her hands and sprinted towards the pen. Able watched closely, his eyesight sharp.

Emre knelt down in front of an ewe whom had just borne a lamb. Her bottom half was torn open and bleeding. This was not the effects of birth. It was the work of coyotes. Able squat down behind her, he had the buckets on one arm. The ewe was still alive, bellowing for her lamb.

Emre looked around, the pasture was large, the lamb was probably dead.

"Put it down mortal." Able rumbled, "end its suffering."

Emre was going to turn around and tell him off. She thought that he was mocking her for losing the ewe. But Able reached out, and lovingly stroked the muzzle of the lamb. Emre watched him. His face was neutral, bordering on peaceful. It didn't last for long though. His large hand tightly wrapped around the ewe's muzzle. With a quick turn of his arm, a movement so natural and easy, it disturbed Emre. Able, had twisted the ewe's neck with an audible, *pop*.

Thanks for reading! Next chapter coming soon.

Sorry if it sometimes takes me a while to get a new chapter out. I need to take breaks to think and sort things out. Plus I got a family lol.

What did you think if this chapter!?