Placid eyes opened to greet a bland environment. The color of silver plated Subaru's surroundings and with a nauseous groan he awoke to a stiff bed. Looking about his new room he spotted an adjacent door from his orange bed. Oddly enough, it had no knob and no windows either. From what he could discern, he was in a prison cell, if anything.
"Request to open Cell 1-14!" Subaru heard a voice from outside the door and fear filled his lungs as he anxiously looked towards the door. "Roger that." The statement resounded through the hall as the door slid open to enlighten an armed figure. "Alright buddy, step out of the cell quietly and things won't have to get difficult for the both of us." Subaru was criminally still, but he stood up from his previous position. He was scared, but also upset, what right did they have to order him around? Even still, there was a barrel of a gun pointing directly at him, he didn't think they'd hesitate. "It's just a simple test, is all. Look, just follow instructions and everything will go alright. There's no need to be so hesitant, this isn't your first time, is it?"
Taking a gulp Subaru agreed to step out of the cell only for him to turn away from the guard. The barrel of the gun was jabbed in his back immediately, Subaru flinched at this treatment;. becoming increasingly uneasy and upset. Subaru wasn't sure what was going on, yet he had this intense desire to escape. Subaru obeyed the guard as he traversed through the corridors. Was this a repeat of before? Was he sent to another world already? If he died, would he come back this time? All these questions ran through his mind until he felt a sudden change, the guard seemed to lax his posture, the gun was no longer jabbing into his back, but he still had the insight to know that it was probably still pointed in his direction.
However, despite this he was reading the signs as they entered a checkpoint. "Heavy Containment Zone" what did that mean exactly? The environment began to be more dull, no longer were the corridors filled with cells, but many intersections. They took many left turns and right turns, stuff he was sure, he'd never be able to remember. The layout was so intricate it made Subaru wonder if he was still in Lugnica. Seeing the technology present, he was highly doubtful. The fear slowly started to get to him, the fear of the unknown. They finally arrived at a security door labeled "SCP 096."
"Doctor Clinton are you in there? I have the subject right here, so could you please open the door?" Muttering came from across the door and access was quickly granted, a gray haired man came out to greet us. He adjusted his glasses as if he had trouble seeing with those light brown eyes of his. He quickly looked towards Subaru who looked rather upset and uncooperative.
"A pleasantry to meet you again Mr. Wilson, and to meet you Class-D. Now then, your job is very simple, please follow me." A gun jabbed once more into the back, eerily close to his spine, forcing Subaru to follow the doctor. He grunted in compliance and the doctor pointed him to a 5x5x5 steel cube. Even from this distance he could hear a distant sobbing as from inside the steel cube. The doctor looked at a few monitors, yelling at a few personnel, seeming agitated. He quickly calmed down and handed Subaru a paper bag. Subaru took it but his only thoughts were of how insane these people were. "I want you to enter the cell and put this bag on the creature inside there."
"Wait, wait, wait, you want me to put this hand-me-down looking plastic bag on this thing's head?" Subaru quickly asked for clarification.
"Correct. Don't look at its face, it'd best if you didn't."
"What, why.. What'll happen if I do?"
"It's confidential, now please enter the cell we'll be opening it on the west side. Do you know which side that is?"
"Of course I do, what do you think I am, an idiot."
"I'd hope not, please proceed with the test." Surprisingly, the guard stayed where he was and hadn't bothered to follow Subaru. Subaru approached the west side of the steel cube, now that he thought about it, did they just call it a containment cell? What exactly were they containing inside here? The sobbing grew increasingly louder as the west side of the steel cube slid open. The light quickly made its way into the tiny opening of the cell, illuminating the back of a pale figure. It was malnourished: Subaru could even see it's spine poking out from behind it's skin. And it's body proportion was off, with incredibly long arms covering its face. It sat there sobbing in a fetal position. The sobbing grew louder as Subaru slowly approached it. The cell shut quietly behind him, leaving him alone, in the dark with this creature. He could still somehow make out the shape of the figure as his eyes had become accustomed to the dark. He got the bag ready to pounce onto the figure. He didn't know what to expect, but he knew that they wouldn't let him out until he got this done.
"Come on…" He voiced quietly to himself, almost as if it were self-motivation, but the figure noticed the sound. It turned in response and it looked at Subaru and in return, Subaru looked at it. It was pitch black Subaru couldn't really see it's face, in fact, he didn't even know it was a face that it was it's face, but it began to quickly stand up. It was agitated, it began to mumble standing in place, muttering inhumane incomprehensible noises. It grunted and groaned, the air became cold as Subaru stood there dumbfounded. He quickly backed up to a corner of a cell, unaware of what he was supposed to do. It started screaming, it started screaming as it's hands started to grip the edges of its face. It scratched at it and friveled about right and left. This thing, what was this thing? Subaru began to sweat; terrified he screamed for help. But there was no answer, the noise only echoed along the chamber along with this thing that grew increasingly agitated.
"Hey! HEY! Is anybody out there? What do I do now? This thing it's- it's acting odd!" Still, no answer from the outside, eventually he realized that there'd be no answer. The creature finally removed it's large hands from its face, the long fingernails that scraped at its face showed no signs of damage. "GOD DAMN IT! SOMEBODY LISTEN TO ME! OPEN THE DOOR, HURRY! HURRY!" It began to scream, a heart wrenching scream that peaked Subaru's ears. It stampeded towards him pouncing on him, it tore at his arm, ripping it out as blood easily gushed out. It was as if it were taking apart a lego, the tendons ripped at the seams, and bones began to reveal, but the creature didn't stop there. Nor did Subaru's brain begin to process the pain until he felt the creature tore deep into his chest. His throat broke out into agony as air tried to rush out to vocalize his pain. Ribs were torn apart and the flesh that was meant to protect him, was supposed to protect him, that didn't protect him gave way. Blood spurted out like a fountain and Subaru thought to himself of the pain and how much it hurts, and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it god damn hurts. His throat retracted as if it were trying to gasp and breathe. Trying to find life, but that life was soon fading away. The guts poured out and they were ripped apart too, they ripped into shreds, how Subaru was still even conscious he himself didn't know. His eyes were pitch black, the pain was now numb, adrenaline had kicked in a while ago, but his brain still processed the agony and the mental strain throbbed for him to move, to escape. His limbs didn't cooperate with the request, organs torn apart, and it finally dawned on Subaru as to what was happening. The instinct of survival took away the realization, the fear, the agony of death. The feeling was nostalgic to Subaru, it felt like a cold grasp trying to rip him from his mortal coil, but it hurt to do so. The fear, the agonizing fear, sweat beaded down his head, his face grew red and purple, as vomit slowly trailed out his mouth in conjunction to the only way to release the air that he was trying to grasp and the mental strain put on his body. He could taste the blood as it trailed down and the creature finally made its way up away from his torso and up to his head, the skull easily gave away, it cracked and sizzled as pressure was put on it and eyeballs popped out, he could only hear at this point, the sense of touch was useless, it finally gave away, a soundless splat-
A gasp aroused as Subaru quickly sat up from his bed, his body shaking. He was afraid, Subaru was frozen still, of all the deaths he had before, that one was haunting. He couldn't get up even when the guard yelled at him, it all sounded like muffled silence. The opening of the cell, the voice of Mr. Wilson, it was all numb. Until the sound of a gunshot inches away from his head penetrated the wall adjacent from him. That woke him up, his head quickly turned towards the sound of the noise and the guard, Mr. Wilson was standing right there.
"Are you awake? Cooperate with me or you will be shot, do you hear me? Exit the cell."
"Right, right, I'll leave…" Subaru softly pleaded as his legs slowly drifted to walk out the cell. The barrel of the gun was expectantly jabbed into Subaru's back, he didn't flinch this time. Wilson muttered a quick comment of unease towards Subaru's apathetic behavior. As they approached the checkpoint Subaru slowly grew agitated. He didn't like it, why should he? Was he even human to them? He didn't deserve this, not now, not ever. How could they do this to him? Who did they think they were. He was scared, anxious, and overall unwilling. Unwilling to put off with this bullshit. He knew his opportunity, he would escape then.
"Greetings Mr. Wilson! What odd jobs are they making you do this time?" A guard spoke, sitting in the control room. The only thing separating them was a glass window and a speaker.
"Nothing much, just escorting this D-class to a test room. Ahh- give me a second…" Wilson started to rummage through his pockets and pulled out a certificate. He displayed it out in front of the other guard for confirmation. Subaru saw his chance here, however stupid it was, he tackled Wilson. A big thump resounded against the ground as Wilson dropped his gun. It misfired, the bullet collided against the window, leaving a huge crack. Subaru desperately made an attempt to grab the gun only for Wilson to retaliate. It wasn't a fair match, not at all, there wasn't only a gap in skill between the two, there was obviously a difference in strength. Sure, Subaru had often worked out, but when being compared to somebody who's job is dealing with men whose shape could be bigger or just the same, it wasn't fair. Wilson easily pushed Subaru out of the way, Subaru having been tunnel visioned on the gun lost his posture and fell over. This gave Wilson an easy opportunity to snatch the gun, he easily maneuvered his grip around the hilt of the gun and picked it off the ground. Subaru dazed, looked up only to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at his head, the trigger was pulled, and consequently brain matter spurred everywhere. The pain hadn't been processed as the bullet went straight through his frontal lobe.
Tired eyes looked up at a familiar ceiling. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair his mental conscience screamed. Subaru had been so far putting up an act, trying to be brave. He was an idiot, of course he was, he should've taken this seriously from the start. He thought he could handle it, but he would've known from past experience that everything won't just work out for him. What was he thinking? Attacking a trained professional? Tears of stress quickly filtered out of his eyes as he racked his brain for a solution.
They were insane, there wasn't even a sliver of hesitation in Wilson's eyes when he pulled that trigger. Those eyes… they haunted Subaru, so devoid of empathy. They weren't human! They couldn't be! What should he do? What should he do? What should he do? Subaru didn't wanna see that thing's face again. He just wanted to go back home and his body imitated that desire. Subaru rocked back and forth on the bed. Eyes shot open not daring to close, they were afraid to. A familiar voice resounded from outside the cell, it was time and yet, Subaru still had no idea what to do. He was reluctant, hesitant, he should have a plan, but none was coming to fruition. Wilson gave a similar speech to last time and Subaru quietly complied. Fear and anxiety drained his determination as they walked through the halls. At this point, Subaru became acclimated to the feeling of the barrel of the gun being jammed into his skin. They went through the checkpoint and into the "Heavy Containment Zone." Subaru's gaze wandered about with the dullish yet slight movements of his head he stumbled upon the sight of an elevator. A guard came out of it and greeted Mr. Wilson before heading on his way.
Finally, they had arrived at SCP 096's containment cell, Dr. Clinton repeated the same orders to him, same warning, same tone in his speech. Subaru obeyed, confused, scared, and desperate. If he did things differently this time, the outcome should be different. However, that theory has been proven wrong to him many times before. He figured he'd be better off going along with things, maybe then, he could find a means of escape afterwards. Entering the damp dark cell the sound of the sobbing resounded, echoed across the walls. Sounds of despair emitted from the entity sat complacently upon the corner. Subaru was far more cautious this time, yet still far more scared than he was before. In fact, he much preferred the lack of knowledge, the knowledge of that thing's face. But no matter what he tried to disway his mind towards, the image still never faltered to appear. Hesitantly, Subaru rose the plastic bag above the subject's head and he slowly placed it on the creature's head. Covering its face completely, the subject still mumbled and sobbed. A deep sigh arose from the deepest depths of Subaru's lungs. The experience felt surreal, in complete darkness, with almost simple ease he was able to successfully place the plastic bag on the creature's head.
"I did it! I-I did it!" Subaru screamed out to the personnel outside the cell. Muffled noises came from outside and after a few minutes the cell opened up to reveal light sinking into the containment cell. Subaru eyes flinched at this disturbance, but they quickly adjusted to the sight. Out from the corner came Mr. Wilson and two other guards. They quickly maneuvered past Subaru and grabbed the creature by its hand and led it out. Subaru couldn't believe how docile it was behaving. If he hadn't died to it he would've considered it innocent. Subaru was unconscious of the motion, but tears began to run down his face, his frustration slightly relieved. He did it, but now what more did they want from him? Mr. Wilson returned to escort him out of the cell, he looked rather concerned seeing the tears on Subaru's face.
"Are you okay, mate? It was a very easy and simple task, surely it wasn't that stressful. Anyways, I'll be escorting you back to your cell. You're done for the day."
"Was it all really that simple..?" Subaru requited as he looked around in disbelief, he felt cold, and yet warm at the same time. He couldn't wrap his head around the feeling and his breath pattern grew harsh, it was that of anxiety and excitement all boiled together at once. This was nothing new, he could handle it, he handled it, he could- Subaru passed out face colliding against the stone pavement.
"Hey! WOAH!" Mr. Wilson looked at Dr. Clinton who merely shrugged.
"As protocol suggests take him to a mental evaluation, I wouldn't worry about him too much."
"Right, yes of course doctor…" Wilson hesitated, but he quickly picked up the unconscious Subaru and headed out the door.
_
Screams could be heard from inside the containment cell, horrid inhumane screams. You could hear the person inside desperately crying out for safety, his voice coarse and filled with unadulterated fear. Only for that voice to quickly silence out along with the screams of the perpetrator. Mr. Wilson winced as he heard Subaru's voice scream from within the cell, he looked towards Dr. Clinton who was also a bit disturbed, but nobody dared opening the door. They all knew the consequences, the consequences of looking at SCP 096's face.
"Has the subject calmed down?"
"Yes sir he seems to have become docile, he is huddled up in the far east corner of the cell, sir."
"Good, and what about Chris?"
"Excuse me, sir?"
"The D-Class."
"Right, there appears to be no sign of him…"
"Typical… Mr. Wilson please do escort the next D-Class we had lined up in case of an occurrence like this."
"Right sir what about-"
"The plastic bag? We'll simply have the next D-Class retrieve it. Afterall, they are suitable for these types of tasks, they are expendable Wilson, don't tell me you're still having trouble understanding the motives behind our actions? We do what must be done, they're already on death row anyways. Do I need to request another mental evaluation for you?"
"No sir, I'll get right to it…"
"Good, I will now formally announce D-Class 4116 also known as "Chris" deceased. Please remember to leave a note to inform family members as soon as you can of his passing…"
_
Eyelids open to a more soft and clean environment, it seemed he had passed out unexpectedly. Subaru looked around, he was laying on a very soft bed, actually. It was white, in fact, the entire room was a bright white. Alongside his bed was a desk and sitting behind that desk was a formally dressed person. His apparel was very similar to Dr. Clinton's, Subaru wondered where he had gone.
"Good evening, it seems you have had quite the rough time as of recently. You came here after having passed out after a procedure affiliated with the likes of SCP 096 is that correct?
"Yes, but where am I? What am I doing here? I thought everything was over!"
"Calm down, I'll answer your questions after we finish this little chit chat alright? I am Dr. Mariah, are you able to recall your name?"
"My name? I'm Subaru, Natsuki Subaru."
"Subaru, huh?" The doctor wrote something down on the notebook located on her desk. Her expression looked perplexed after hearing Subaru's proclamation.
"What's your birthday?"
"What significance does this have to do with anything at all? What is this, a daily checkup?!"
"Sort of, it's just protocol, don't concern yourself with the minute details. I'm just trying to help, we can get this done a lot quicker if you just answer the questions."
"Fine… April first."
"Do you remember why you were sent here?"
"I-" Subaru wasn't able to respond, at least truthfully, there was still the penalty that accompanied his ability, Return by Death, and he felt his privacy was already being infringed upon. "I don't remember the reason, alright? Look, I don't care about this checkup or whatever it is. Just send me back to the cell, I promise I'll behave."
"This isn't a question about your loyalty to the Foundation, Subaru. Are you sure you don't remember why? Do you know why you help us with tasks like these?"
"I don't know what you're trying to say- I… I just wanna go back home, alright? The sooner that happens the better."
"I see, we'll see what we can do. Subaru, before I leave, prior to the event with SCP 096 did you have any headaches, nausea, or even experience any form of pain?"
"No, not at all."
"Alright, well then, please do not leave this room until further notice."
Dr. Mariah left the room only to conjoin with Mr. Wilson who was nearby at the time. With Subaru safely out of earshot Mariah quickly gave her diagnosis. "I will form a report about my opinion later. Mr. Wilson please escort Chris to his previous cell. Be expecting him to be moved to another subsection of this facility for proper observation."
Report 4116:
The subject seems to have false memories along with loss of identity, how this happened, I am unsure.
The subject is to be considered of higher importance than other D-Class subjects.
This could be a case of a cognitohazard and should be handled with proper care. Please issue a request for Class F amnestics for appropriate and immediate care.
I also formally request that the subject no longer be exposed to any anomalous activity, so as to avoid a repeat of this incident. As such I suggest the subject be reconvened to a different sector of the facility, preferably in Light Containment Zone.
The value gained from observing this change could be highly beneficial to our current understanding of cognitohazards. Please notify all relevant staff of this change, when and if, it happens to avoid confusion. If this change is opposed to our current resources then I suggest immediate termination of the subject.
-Dr. Mariah
_
Subaru woke up within his bed, looking around his new surroundings he didn't seem very surprised. A familiar cell and a familiar voice rang from outside the cells of the D-Class.
"Lunch time!"
All the cell doors simultaneously opened leaving Subaru's fellow ravenous D-Class to rejoice, for it was pizza day. Rushing out they all headed towards the direction of the nearest cafeteria which happened to be a sharp right from Subaru's cell. As the crowd passed by one D-Class stopped and entered Subaru's cell to greet him.
"Hey, hey, hey Chris! How's it been man? Do ya think ya could hook us up with some seconds, ya know? Butter up the guards like ya always do?"
"Heh! Ya right, they only listen to me because I'm apparently somebody important. Hell, I don't even know if I can agree with that sentiment. Anyhow, I've missed ya Bart! It's been a long while since I've seen ya."
"Come on man it's only been yesterday. Hey check out the growth of my beard since the last time! I'm about to hit a world record."
"Okay, mister santa! Please, it's only grown a tiny centimeter."
"Says the man with no facial hair whatsoever! What are you? A newborn babe?" Bart continued to tease Chris, the man who used to be Subaru had become an entirely new person. And in only one week, his identity had easily been revoked. His personality, the thing that makes Subaru himself was now gone.
"Geesh, just shut up man! Let's get to the cafeteria already, I'm sure we're both starving for some pizza!" Chris empathized with a slam of the wall next to him as he got up and quickly jogged out leaving Bart behind.
"Oi, oi, oi! Don't just leave me behind here?! How am I supposed to get extra pizza without you?!" Bart yelled as he ran to catch up with Chris who was immediately stopped by a guard.
"Are you ready to eat, sir?"
"Certainly! Is it true that it's pizza day? Oh, it'd be chill if my bro Bart came along, right?"
"Do you honestly think I care?"
"No, not really…"
"Then there's your answer, let's just hurry up so I can eat my own lunch."
"Right, right! Sorry… Hey Bart, he says it's okay!" Chris yelled back to the chubby Bart who was having trouble making his way over to him.
"Why wouldn't it be, dude?"
"Look I don't want a bullet in your head as much as you do..." Chris muttered as the guard escorted them to the cafeteria. The aroma of tomatoes and sausage attacked both Chris and Bart's noses. The guard have become accustomed and simply scoffed at them for being so appalled. Chris looked rather uneasy as they went by each table which gluttonous beasts sat feasting at their own subpar portions of pizza. Even the D-Class didn't expect too much of pizza day, but it was better than the cans of beans they were often given to help them persevere through the rest of an arduous day. So, the burnt crust, the somewhat expired pepperoni and sausage, they could all forgive it for something actually somewhat delectable. However, there was only one issue: they were only allowed two slices of pizza.
For some, that was enough and Chris would often observe people who left early to return to their cells and nap until they were called back to do god knows what. Others, however, would wait for Chris, so that they could beg for the simple privilege of having another slice of pizza. To put it simply, Chris felt a sort of euphoria when he visited the cafeteria. He ate the same quality food as them, but his quantity was different. On some days, he was a god on others he was worthless. Nobody wants extra beans after having them for three consecutive days. If a D-Class were to see even an image of beans on this fateful pizza day, they'd puke, and understandably so! Thus, it was natural that they'd want to enjoy pizza day while they could, and with as many pizzas as they could obtain. Chris was delegated to an infinite amount of pizza, however, one thing really dissuaded people from trying to steal from him. And that was Chris had mayonnaise with his pizza. That sight alone was equivalent to beans and the only D-Class who could tolerate that, was Bart. Thus, nurtured the friendship of two food freaks.
"Mayo again, huh? You know you're really starting to piss off some of our fellow inmates? One had recently complained about having nightmares, specifically about mayo!"
"What?! I'm innocent! Besides, if they're not man enough to deal with a little mayo then I ain't giving them any of my pizza!"
"Aren't you worried that one of these days you'll get jumped?"
"We both know they'd die if they tried that. You know how much these guards value me…"
"We all know, Chris! It's honestly kinda creepy, the fact that you don't even know why would scare off most people. Makes it hard to point a figure of blame, ya know?"
"Do you ever think that was intentional?"
"What?"
"That they never told me why..?"
"Ahh- I see what you're getting at. Look, I'm with you buddy no matter what. Afterall, you give me free pizza in this hell hole, but seriously dude you gotta fix your mayo addiction."
"It's the only thing I can remember though…"
"Dude? What are you talking about."
"This sensation, this feeling of belonging, I only ever get that feeling when I eat mayo."
Bart stayed silent not knowing how to respond. The evening quickly passed by with very little small talk between Chris and bart. This awkwardness only ceased when the guard came to escort Chris back to his cell. This was ordinary, everybody but him, was always called to go help the scientists while he, he alone procedurally sat in that cell.
"Don't you ever get tired of it?"
"If you're referring to the apple I'm eating, no."
"I meant watching me doing nothing."
"Sure, who wouldn't? I'm glad you even bothered to talk, you don't usually do that. Hey, may I ask what's up with you and Bart?"
"Bart and me? There's nothing wrong! Everything's been fine, really. You don't need to dispose of him too."
"No, I didn't mean it like that, it's just he looked uncomfortable seeing you depart."
"Isn't it normal to miss a friend when they say farewell?"
"Sure..? I get it if you don't wanna talk, but keep in mind it's my job to make sure your mental health is up to standards. Of course, that means I'm your temporary therapist, hell if I know what that even means. I just know I can lend an ear if ya need me."
"Why are you being so nice to a D-Class? What is your name anyways? I haven't realized, but me and Bart have just been calling you Blueberry."
"Blueberry?! Where'd that come from?"
"Where'd ya think? We just noticed your uniform, it's blue now."
"Oh, I got promoted, but they still saw this as a fit position for me. The name's Wilson by the way."
"Mr. Wilson, huh? Why does that name sound familiar?"
"Don't worry about it. Looks like my shift's over, can't believe it's already dark. I'll see you in the morning, try not to do anything stupid while I'm gone."
"Could I even manage that?"
"If Bart could, you probably could too."
"Cut me some slack, I'm not like that asshole! Geesh, barely got to know the guy and he's already lowering my self esteem."
Chris, however irritated, laid back on his head. His eyes grew droopy rather quickly, he was tired. He had done nothing again, just like the past week. He didn't feel a sense of progression at all and yet, that lack of progression, that lack of advancement, that's what stressed him out the most? Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. Chris chastised himself until he drifted off to sleep- A beautiful wonderful slee-
"SNAP!" A loud sound woke Chris up, and yet he found it rather odd that nobody else had woken up. He swear he heard it, the sound of some sort of glass falling apart, shattering upon the ground. He felt a sharp pain on the left side of his head, he clenched it hard. It felt like it too, was about to fall and shatter into thousands of pieces. He couldn't shake the feeling, the feeling of dread, a great feeling of shame and guilt. Suffice to say, he was unable to sleep that night.
"Dude, I don't wanna be rude, but you kinda look like a pile of dog shit." Bart commented towards Chris who was laid face down, his head stuffed into his pillow. He muttered something incomprehensible and struggled to get up. Scoffing at Bart's lackadaisical attitude, he quickly walked past him to meet up with Mr. Wilson.
"Another part of daily routine, eh? Does Bart always bother you like that at the start of the morning."
"Yes, it's insufferable."
"Woah! Come on man! I said I wasn't trying to be rude, don't pass me up like that. Hey Blueberry what day is it?"
"It's bean day, you should know this by now since all you D-Class seem to be traumatized from it."
"Hey Chris, isn't Blueberry acting a bit weird? He didn't call me out on insulting him."
"Bart, you're already in the midst of danger, I wouldn't suggest pursuing the topic any further."
Bart put up a lighthearted smile and ran to the nearest table patiently awaiting Chris to go get him some beans. Bart might've hated the beans, but he was a glutton, so any form of substance that went down his stomach would ultimately satisfy him. That should've been obvious considering his body stature, for being in a place that typically required physical activity Bart was surprisingly chubby.
"Are you ever gonna try to lose weight around here?" Chris said as he set the can of beans next to Bart and sat adjacent to him.
"I don't wanna look like a twig like you, so probably not. Besides, what's the bother? We're both on death row anyway! Might as well have as much food as we can before we face the guillotine ya know."
"I'm pretty sure they don't use guillotines for executions anymore… How many days do you got left?"
"Hell if I'll ever know, we don't really have calendars around here. Barely can keep track of time around here."
"That's because you still are only able to read a digital clock Bart, that's not the facility's fault."
"SHUT UP! They should be considerate for the disabled."
"They are, it's just that you aren't disabled for not being able to read a clock, you're uneducated."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly as you thi-"
An alarm rang out across the cafeteria cutting Chris off. He looked towards WIlson, who seemed to be in a considerable state of distress. Looking back at Chris he swiftly ran over and grabbed his hand yelling at his fellow inmates.
"Follow procedure, this is not a drill! Bart, Chris, you're with me."
"What about the others?"
"They'll be dealt with by the other guards, later…" Chris at the time couldn't tell, but there was a somber tone in his voice when Wilson said that.
The crew quickly ran towards the closest exit. Running across the dull gray hallway, Wilson spotted an elevator to their nearest left. Pushing the button furiously, he looked around in fear. Even Chris wasn't oblivious to that familiar look in his eyes, the eyes of someone who was desperate. Another announcement rang throughout the building following the alarm.
"SCPs 049, 939, and 682 have breached containment. All staff please meet up at-"
The audio not so conveniently cut off. Wilson kept muttering to himself, something around the lines of "How did the test fail?" Nearby Bart was rather dazed in midst of the turn of events, he seemed oddly detached from reality. As if he were coping with the reality itself trying to decipher the difference between his own imagination and what was real. Chris seemed oddly complacent and as the elevator twitched open upon its arrival he heard gunshots, several. All of them had come from the cafeteria, screams, eerily familiar to the voices of his fellow inmates. Yet, Wilson still urged them inside the elevator. The machine whirred as it was directed to go down by the mechanical push of a button. And a feeling of abandonment, that same feeling of shame flooded Chris's eyes, and as such seemingly fake tears poured down. Oddly enough, bart too, was sobbing.
"Get a hold of yourself Chris, this ain't the time for crying? Geesh I thought you guys were supposed to be horrible people, but apparently not! WHY ARE THE BOTH OF YOU CRYING?! We gotta get out, just stay calm, clam and-"
The elevator opened to the sight of a large red beastlike creature, Wilson remained silent. However, Bart continued to sob despite the disaster occurring in front of them. The monster grew attached to the peculiar sound it seemed rather familiar to. It's throat churned as vocals came out through an unknown origin. From whom, from when, did it imitate such a person, Chris was unsure. How did it know? How did it know exactly what to say to the poor, pitiful Bart who was huddled in the corner?
"Is that you? My old friend?" Bart looked up seemingly confused, but oddly relieved by the tone of this horrific monster. That was his first mistake, turning around, the creature engulfed the entirety of Bart's head, blood gushed as a massive "SNAP" was heard. His skull had been crushed and in realization of this, Chris felt the urge to scream rise from his throat, the terror unbeknownst to him and also a familiar sorrow, it's as if this had happened to him before.
"I don't wanna die, I don't wanna, I can't, I cannot, not now, no, no, no…" Oddly enough, it wasn't Chris who spoke those words, but the usually reserved guard next to him, Wilson was incredibly afraid. The monster too heard his words, and saw the movement of his lips, it had found the source of another prey. It growled as if delighted and partook in the course so gracefully given to it. It caught Wilson by the arm and in instinct Wilson pulled back. That too, was obviously a mistake. The feeble arm came off like a tissue, blood splattered in Chris's face, and yet he was frozen, unable to move. This wasn't right, it couldn't be, this wasn't reality. This was a mistake, it had to be that was the only thing Chris could decipher from the grim situation. That folly of misunderstanding the cruelty of nature led Chris to watch as Wilson pleaded for his help as he was slowly torn apart by a predator happily playing with it's prey.
Blood, that red liquid, or whatever you'd prefer to call it. It was everywhere, on Chris's eyes, his face, his shirt, his shoes, the walls, the buttons. Only red perpetrated his vision and the sight was vaguely familiar. And the sight of a blue haired girl laying on the ground dead, came to Subaru's brain. The sight of burnt corpses in a small field. The sight of a cute silver haired girl with blood soaking her clothes. Unable to process it all, he finally let out a wretched unfaltering screech that surmised his doom as the creature before him took a bite into a most delectable piece of human trash. Chris himself couldn't believe his last words when they escaped his throat, but the last thing that could be heard from inside the monster's mouth was a simple call for somebody's name, an unknown person. That name being "Emilia."
Falling off his own bed, Chris quickly stood up looking around at his surroundings. Oddly enough, he didn't know why he expected to see himself in the creature's stomach, for he'd obviously be dead by the time he got that far. Still, why was he alive? And why, why was he in his cell? Almost on cue the cells opened only for Chris to see moments later Bart, who hadn't had too much trouble getting to Chris's cell. Nobody was excited for bean day, except Bart. He was always excited to eat anything.
"Hey dude, I don't wanna be rude, but you kinda look like a pile of dog shit. Also, did you fall off your bed?"
"Wha-" Chris couldn't process it, disregarding his newfound memories, disregarding everything that had happened. Here Bart stood, happy, cheerful, and giddy. He wasn't crying, he wasn't dead, his head wasn't disformed anymore. Even so, it didn't make sense! There's no way it could! How could, how could, things be so perfectly normal after such an event. And the sudden realization finally hit Chris, by some grace he was given a second chance. But why him? Why now? Is this why the Foundation valued him so highly? He couldn't understand, in fact, he didn't want to understand.
"Hey, man, get up already. You're kinda creeping me out with that blank look on your face, ya know? This isn't like you…"
"What's wrong with you two! I've been waiting for you guys, what's going on in here?"
"Oh crap! Blueberry's here you gotta pull yourself together man!"
"Cut the crap, Bart! What's wrong with him..?"
Chris had filtered out their voices, for they hadn't mattered, not yet, not now, not ever. Chris screamed internally for this to be a dream. Chris had come to realize that humans are often selfish. He too was selfish, for he was human. That was just a simple fact of reality. The reason why people liked him is only because he was of a certain use to them. That's all he had going for him, if he acted right, if he stayed within the boundaries of society he'd be fine. The D-Class who asked him for extra food, the guards that only protected him because they were ordered to. He enjoyed that fake relationship. His friendship with Bart, too, that was just a ploy. He knew deep in his heart that Bart didn't realistically care, Bart just wanted his food, and maybe Bart was also lonely. By accommodating this sense of comradery they were able to develop a "relationship." Whatever you wanted to call it, it was fake, it wasn't real. It was just a method to gain mutual benefit, that's how human nature works, so he was confused by these memories. These memories that flooded his head, why did he feel a certain fondness for these unknown people. What benefit did he gain from knowing them, what benefit did they gain from knowing him? He didn't know, so much information and yet reality tasked him to simply deal with it. Such a simple word but a rather rash concept. At first glance, somebody could state that they could do the impossible, but that was from an outside perspective, that was naive, and Chris was naive. Naivety is broad. His inaction could devalue him as naive, his standing here not competent enough to make a sound, that too could be naive? Like a child unable to make a decision when facing others, not having the guts. That too could be considered naive. So, is him trying to preserve his own life and forsake others, is that naive? Yet, there's an obligation in his stomach to stop the catastrophe from occurring, to save Bart, to save Wilson. Because the benefit he gained from keeping them alive made him truly happy. To give value to that, to proclaim it as a benefit, that was the existence of Chris. Did that make him human? He was unsure, but he in his deepest desire wanted to be the hero. Do something other than sit in this cell waiting to be asked for the help that nobody wanted him for.
"I'm alright, I'm alright, I just got a bit of a headache."
"Do I need to contact the medical unit?"
"There's no need Blueberry, I'm good."
"Don't spook us like that Chris! Maybe you need some food to help ease your nerves or something."
"I told you I'm fine Bart."
Oddly enough, Wilson was easily convinced, but Bart wasn't. It took Chris to promise him more extra meals than usual to actually get him to shut up. Chris could finally take into consideration what would be the best action from here on out. It's obvious that the elevator was a no go, but how would he convince Wilson that was not the right way. If he told Wilson the truth… What would happen to him afterwards? Could he trust Wilson? Even still, it was either that or dying to that creature again, that disgusting amalgamation of a hellhound. It was soon, the alarm would set off, Chris anticipated its arrival only for nothing to happen. Chris found himself at odds with himself, was his ability to tell time absolutely demolished? What was wrong? Chris looked around, of course, everybody was acting normal. And a sudden thought entered his mind, that everything he had just experienced was a nightmare. Now that he thought of it, that too made sense. It was far less bizarre than what he assumed to be the case. Right, right, this was only natural routine, there was nothing wrong going on. How stupid was he? For thinking that something is wrong. He took his spoon and tried to take another scoop of the beans only to find red splattered across the table.
Well wasn't this odd, somebody must have spilt tomato juice on the table. Is what Chris assumed, but he wasn't aware. That the creature he had insulted before was now in the cafeteria with everyone, yet nobody seemed to care. Not Chris who was absent minded of the decapitated corpse of Bart right in front of him, he didn't question it. Thus, the chatter commenced and slowed as time passed, a crackle of a skull being popped only meant that one voice in the chorus of chatter disappeared. They didn't question it, many complained about the beans, not because the red liquid that was spilled onto their beans had spoiled it, but because it tasted kinda odd. Upon further reflection, people started to cumulatively agree that this different taste was different enough to make them like it, in some odd way. And so, the beast feasted and feasted upon the absent minded fools. The selfish human trash that plagued the cafeteria was quickly fading away.
"Oh! Hey, Wilson what's wrong? Why did you fall like that? Hey dude are you crying?" Chris voiced his concern as the deformed head of Wilson fell onto Chris's shoulder, Chris tried to comfort the corpse before him by caressing it's head. He patted it's back and continued to do this until the creature appeared directly in his view. Yet, in Chris's eyes there was no such monster, he only saw a dog. "Woah Wilson! Did the facility get a new dog, that's so cool! Can I pet it? Can I pet it?"
Chris immediately went to pet the creature, yet he was taken aback by the lack of fingers he possessed. He swear he didn't have such a serious birth defect, he would've realized it earlier in his life, but why now? Nonetheless, Chris tried the other hand and the same results came to fruition, his fingers were gone, now that was odd, very peculiar indeed. He figured the universe didn't want him to pet the dog. Which was kinda cruel and very rude especially considering it was directed just for this specific instance, he had been condemned to death row and this is the treatment God gave him. Honestly, the audacity he had to even attempt such a thing. That, of all things, it was absurd. Chris fell to the ground, maybe he had tripped? But his right leg was missing? That was fine, everything is fine, he just needs to get up. Throttles of pain entered his mental vision as his other leg was chopped off by the apparent cute dog behind him. But still this felt normal to Chris, his end, the dizziness he experienced as the red liquid poured out from underneath him and soaking into his clothes. This is to all be expected, especially under the circumstances, he must've deserved it. This dreadful feeling, this too should be expected, expected for a human trash like him. And so was expected the sound of flesh being gnashed apart and making its way to the skull that gave way to the juicy insides. In one fell swoop it was only natural that he died-
Shaking; Chris's entire bed was shaking, but not due to an earthquake. But Chris in realization of his return remembered the past events and how they weren't normal. There was nothing normal about them! Just thinking about it made him want to vomit. He was huddled in the corner paralyzed. How was he supposed to fix this? If he thought these creatures as normal, if he didn't even question the death of his own friends, how could he possibly intervene with the events that are soon to pass. Why did he even feel such indifference to everything that past run? That's not what happened last time and it didn't make sense! Why, why, why, WHY?! There was only one solution left he had to tell Wilson, no matter how afraid he was of the consequences he needed to tell somebody! He was sick and tired of trying and only after two tries too, huh? Could he really give up that easily?
"You're the sort of person that cannot give up on others… I believe in you… You're a hero..." Words resounded from the deepest depths of Chris's brain.
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! Where are these memories coming from, anyways? What do they mean, I can't think straight anymore! I'll just tell them, ya I'll tell them… everything."
"Tell us what, Chris? Why do you look so distraught..?"
"B-Bart… thank goodness, get Wilson now! We have to get out of here now, the S-"
Time stopped and a faint whisper adorned Chris's figure, it felt cold, a fear that surpassed any other fear. That even surpassed his fear of death, the pain that resided it was nothing compared to this sense of dread. Chris eyes could spot a dark entity from afar, it formed into the shape of a hand and it caressed his chest. Seemingly going through it and strangling his lungs. Time resumed only for Chris to have fallen on the floor gasping for air. In fear, he looked up at Bart, who then looked to Wilson. Wilson quickly pulled out his radio after watching the event transpire.
"Medical unit? This is Wilson, please send a doctor immediately, subject 4116 is experiencing medical issues. Yes, yes… thank you."
"What's going on, hey Chris are you okay?"
"You're coming with me Chris…" Wilson attempted to reach out his hand towards Chris only for him to swipe it away viciously.
"NO! No, no, no you don't understand! I can't leave! NOT NOW! NOT WHEN THAT THI-" Chris gasped for air as the pain resumed in his lungs.
"Chris, you have to go, I don't think you understand your circumstance right now." Wilson unsheathed his pistol and pointed it at Chris. "You're coming, whether you like it or not."
"No, no, not now… how could I make such a stupid mistake..?"
"Hey come on guys, calm down. Things don't have to be like this. Look I'll-"
"Don't get in my way Bart. You may have the misconception of your safety right now. But this includes Chris, I have been given authority to dispatch any disobedience, even if that means via force. I'm allowed to terminate either of you if you do not comply here and now. So back off Bart, we both know it won't end well, if you don't."
Bart gulped and complied there was a sad look in his eye as he watched Wilson drag Chris away. Chris was devastated, he honestly thought things were over. He was considering the possibility of just disobeying, so that he could intentionally get shot. But he was too afraid, too afraid of the pain. He hadn't grown accustomed to it, could he honestly ever grow accustomed to that feeling. Chris felt trapped. So trapped that he even thought that it was better to wait it out. Afterall, they're going away from the main source of the incident, aren't they? But that theory was based only on limited information and it was hard for Chris to gather more when his standing in ranking amongst the facility was borderline D-Class. The only right he had was extra food; even his escort could betray him at will, even his escort was a higher rank than him.
"Mr. Wilson? What's the matter? Why'd you call me at a time like this? Don't you know I have a test to get to?"
"That termination test? Look, I get that has precedence, but your most valued subject has shown signs of… mental deterioration."
"Deterioration? He's only been here for a week? That's simply impossible. Chris, look at me." Chris complied not knowing what else he was supposed to do, but listen.
"Are you sure it isn't just a lack of sleep?"
"He was- trying to tell me something, but despite his efforts, it seemed he was never able to finish his sentence? Isn't that fishy to you?"
"I'll take a look at it later, have him wait in my office for the time being. I'll check up on him once this test is over."
"Thank you, Dr. Mariah…"
Chris was escorted into Dr. Mariah's office where he sat there for a very large extended period of time. He didn't think anybody was coming back, he felt like he was in his lonesome cell all over again. Thus, he had time to contemplate, to think about what his next action would be. And honestly, his mind went blank, what was he supposed to do? What did it matter if he could reverse time?! If it only ended up leading to the same dead impasse. He hated it, he hated it as much as he hated the pain, as much as he hated the facility, and yet the only thing that he had ever truly known was the facility. He had often wondered why that was; he swear he could remember a life back at his old home. In a farm right outside Seattle. Now that, that was life and he made one tiny misstep. He just had to steal from some big hot shot and now here he was. He was an idiot through and through. Despite all this he continued to act as if nothing was wrong in the facility as if those dreams he were having weren't some type of premonition. He still couldn't figure it out, he truly was… A worthless excuse.
The containment breach alarm was once again set off. He looked towards the door expecting Mr. Wilson to pop in and escort him out, but he never came. Chris grew worried, so he thought he should check on him, only to hear a certain specific voice.
"Is there somebody in there, don't be afraid."
"W-What?"
Chris stammered only for the entity to open the door, and the voice revealed itself to be a man wearing what looked akin to a plague doctor outfit. Chris heard the D-Class talk about something similar to this, but he was pretty sure they were talking about a cartoon because the beak of the mask was way longer than what was presented in front of him.
"What an interesting way to cure the Pestilence! However, from the looks of it, it too seems to have flaws. Ahh, but we are men of science, so I believe that cannot be helped."
"The Pestilence?"
"Have all of you never heard of it? Are you not aware of what plagues the world today? That is especially saddening."
"Who are you?"
"Neither of our names matter right now. What matters is finding the cure. So, please do tell me how did you come across such a cure?"
"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're referring to, unless you mean-" A dark fog took place in the room and the familiar sight of the hand made itself apparent. It trickled down from Chris's cheek after caressing it, only for it to undoubtedly squeeze his heart. Chris gasped in pain at this, surprising the figure before him, however only slightly.
"You're a peculiar specimen aren't you? It appears my previous diagnosis was wrong, you are suffering. Suffering a great deal, don't worry, I am the cure."
The entity stepped forward laying his hand on Chris's shoulder only for him to fall face flat on the ground, dead. It was instant, there was no mental process to generate the figure of pain or even fear. It was swift and cleaner than most. But even then, Chris felt the absent minded procedure. Needles prodding through his body, flesh being torn apart. It all felt numb and he wondered why, wondered why he was still here. As if he were bound to the world by some force, unknown to him. His body jerked frivolously as the supposed "cure" worked on him. And finally Chris woke up, but he wasn't in control. He found himself roaming the halls, his thoughts were scattered. The legs wouldn't move like they were supposed to, his arms wouldn't move like they were supposed to, and his voice was coarse. He could hear himself moan as if he were in an eternal state of torment. For once, he was glad. He was glad that he couldn't feel whatever this thing he had turned into was. For it must've been pure agony. He found himself walking towards the direction of his fellow inmates.
He expected for them to be dead, but there were still conjoining in the cafeteria as if nothing was wrong, even with the alarm going off constantly they remained still. The guards seemed unresponsive even to him and a surge of anger rushed through his body, an unknown benign force had already taken hold. And one by one he began attacking them, ripping apart their smiling faces, their joyous expressions. Eaten, chewed, gnashed apart because of this obscure desire. What was going on? As blood sprayed across the room and necks were being decapitated everyone remained still, still as a statue. They were clowns, idiots, idiots for thinking that everything was okay, for it wasn't okay! NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS OKAY! He didn't want to taste the feeling of flesh go into his mouth, but he had to. He didn't want to see the organ inside of somebody else spill out and then munched up as if it were an everyday breakfast. It made him want to internally vomit, and yet he still continued. Not due to his own wishes, but because of a misfortunate event and honestly, he wanted to die. He wanted to die. Wants to die, should've died, better die, it'd be better if he'd just disappear. All these feelings go away! He doesn't want to see this, nor experience it, so anything attributed to it, as well, should disappear. Until he heard from afar one fateful word, "Emilia."
His rotten corpse was torn to shreds, the same creature that had torn apart Wilson and had eaten him was the one to end his misery, but was also the one to remind him of a certain person, and the only thing Chris could think from there on out was
"Who's Emilia?"
_
Item: SCP 1504
Test results: During the test, all staff members were advised to observe via thermal readings. When SCP 096's face was viewed by SCP 1504 it did trigger a reaction. SCP 096, as expected, entered a distressed state, however when enraged he did not engage SCP 1504, he attacked the nearby staff. Resulting in a containment breach. Nearby staff became negligent due to the effects of SCP 1504 and this resulted in several other containment breaches. Which inevitably led to the nuking of the site. All SCPS were successfully recovered. Casualty count came out to [REDACTED]
Addendum: Any information regarding D-Class 4116 is to be considered classified till further notice.
_
Tired, that was the only thing that could describe Chris, no matter what he did, stuff seemed to end badly. Of course, he messed up a few times along the way, so some progress was possible, but no matter how his brain could rack around it, the possibility of ending this cycle was nigh impossible. It became clear to Chris that he wasn't a hero, not by any means, if he was going to end this cycle. He either had to escape or live with the fear of experiencing the same day and same death over and over. How could he manage to change things?
"Chris! Step out of your cell for a moment." Chris was familiar with the voice, it was Wilson again.
"What is it? Why are we leaving this early anyways? Lunch hasn't even begun."
"Something important came up regarding the status of your containment…"
"My containment, what in the hell are you talking about?"
"It seems you're being transferred to another Site. Previously, this news was meant for you, but due to an undetermined risk which we are still unaware of how to proceed with. Due to your own safety you'll be transferred."
"Wh-what about Bart?"
"Bart..? I am unfamiliar with the person you're referring to. But if the question is aligned with if you can bring any friends, no. Now then…" Wilson unsheathed his gun and pointed it at Chris, Chris flinched as Wilson pulled the trigger, no hesitation in his actions. The gun shot out a tranquilizer dart, hitting Chris and knocking him out almost immediately.
"Subaru! Subaru!"
"Huh, what happened?" Subaru woke up in a daze from his bed, concerned expressions swept his vision. Subaru looked towards Emilia who immediately hugged him. This sensation, this feeling of belonging, this sanctity. It was a fond feeling, so this is why he ate that mayo. Was it all really just a simple dream?
"You were out for 3 months, I suppose." Beatrice commented scoffing, seemingly indifferent to Subaru's well being. Subaru smirked and scratched his head in minor shame. He had no idea what had come over him, but if it truly was a dream, why could he vividly remember almost all of it? The pain he felt, the sadness, the despair, it all felt too real. Subaru after apologizing to everybody eventually made his way to the mirror.
"Heh, I look like absolute crap. I can't believe I let Emilia see me like this…" Subaru's eyes were dull, having lost their usually bright color and his skin was rather pale. He wondered how he even made it through those 3 months, someone must've been taking care of him during the coma. He suspected it was the combined efforts of Rem and Emilia, but still, to be able to forget those both so easily. He was afraid that something like that could happen here, but he did his best to convince himself otherwise.
"Subaru? Are you okay?"
"Oh! Emilia-chan~ Surely, you were the cure to me waking up from my coma, perhaps, Emilia don't tell me!" Subaru's thoughts ran to the sleeping beauty and he couldn't help but gush as his mind wandered with the possibilities.
"Wh-What?"
"No, no, no it couldn't possibly be!" Subaru stated rather dramatically making Emilia somewhat confused, but also amused. He could hear her silently giggling and that in itself brought a smile to his face.
"So, I'm reeeeeaaaally curious. What were you dreaming about it? Sometimes, I saw you moving in your sleep, like you were having a nightmare…"
"It wasn't much really. Emilia have you ever heard of the SC-" The penalty happened again and Subaru stopped mid sentence, fear patching his usually joyous expression. It wasn't a dream, what had happened… was it really real..?
_
AN: So, this is titled as completed... However, I'm thinking of writing a sequel to this, so if you guys want a sequel... Let me know? Hope y'all have a nice day!