The Agent of Mercy
"Back so soon?" The man with the impossible smile asked of John, specified SCP-507. His breathy voice firmly wrapped itself around John's ear before worming it's way into his brain, now eternally burrowed within.
"C-Cassy." John panted beneath his breath.
"Gone." The Smiling Man stated.
John then leapt to his feet, putting distance between himself and the Smiling Man.
Even in the pitch darkness that was the slaughterhouse of his dearest companion, John could see the Smiling Man's face, at least in mind.
John put his hand on the gun he had been assigned, violently shaking.
In a swift motion of which he did not think himself capable, he drew it and fired at the Smiling Man. Even if they were just rubber bullets, he knew that causing at least a smidgen of pain to this man-whom John knew in body and soul to be the one who perpetuated Cassy's murder-would at the very least ease the unfathomable beast that had now taken the throne of his soul. That beast was known to humanity as Vengeance.
It felt good, each recoil of his pistol. As a skinny man, his very skeleton seemed to rattle with each shot, but god, did it feel good.
Click.
He tossed the gun to the ground and took out his flashlight. He knew he'd enjoy this. He charged to the Smiling Man, his hand wildly flailing for purchase for any inch of his body. He had violent thoughts in mind. Many, many violent thoughts. John would irrigate this pitch black hellhole with the brown liquids that was this man's blood.
His fingers settling nicely around a lapel, he raised his flashlight, his knuckles likely whiter than the death canvas that permanently seared a second loss into his retinas. He swung, screaming.
And then he shifted again. Back into his private quarters. In mid swing, he stumbled, his rage-fueled adrenaline allowing him to quickly regain balance.
In a daze, he felt sudden confusion at the loss of his prey. But with a glance or two at his new environment, the realization settled.
He was alone again, without satisfaction. Just like with the perfect woman from that perfect world. A chance at happiness, torn from him by this curse.
This time, his happiness was stolen from him by unknowable figures who colluded with that accursed Smiling Man.
His grip tightened around the flashlight. Without thinking, he hurled it into the wall, sending glass shards flying and sprinkling. The metal casing landed with a dull clang. This felt good, but it wasn't enough.
He fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself. He then felt Cassy's drawing pad in his pocket.
Empty. Lifeless. Dead.
He held it before him, looking at the empty page. No Cassy. No body armor. No grassy field. No hope.
What's your name? I don't want to call you SCP-507.
The ire that was the dam for his eyes had vanished, unleashing the flood. He wept loudly, the sound echoing in his small room and ricocheting back into his own eardrums.
I promise I won't laugh. Honest.
It's uh, John.
His sobs momentarily stumbled upon a small sound that resembled laughter, albeit deprived of all mirth.
"SCP-507?" A male voice accompanied a knock on the door to John's room.
John said nothing.
"SCP-507, please open the door. I can hear you. Now that you've returned from your shift, I must document it."
Reluctantly and slowly, John rose to his feet. With the weight of his heart on his shoulders, he opened the door.
"What's wrong?" asked the Agent.
John almost snapped out of it when he heard the genuine human compassion in the Agent's voice. And then it all rushed back upon him, spiraling him back to that grassy field. To that nightmarish nightfall. Cassy was a threat, apparently. How? And to who?
The Agent patiently waited for the waves of salty sadness to end, but it seemed as though they wouldn't. These waves were nigh bottomless. He then noticed the drawing pad that SCP-507 was clutching so tightly.
"May I please see that?" The Agent reached to it.
John had enough sense to comply.
"Thank you," the Agent said as he took the drawing pad. He examined it closely and immediately recognized it as the drawing pad for Cassandra, designated SCP-85.
"SCP-507, is this…?" He trailed off as a tactic to get John to speak. Maybe he could settle down enough after that for the mandatory interview.
"C-Cassy-" John spoke between sobbing gasps. "-they took her. They killed her."
"Who are they?" The Agent asked.
"They crushed us into a box and then they killed her. I shifted during a containment breach and I was holding her pad. She became 3-D when we shifted together and we walked down a field together. And-" he broke into loud sobs again. "They were black like shadows and-"
Get us out of here!
John ran to the Agent and embraced him tightly. To his surprise, the need for comfort was reciprocated.
"Black like a shadow?" The Agent asked, stroking John's hair.
John nodded against his chest.
"How long was this shift?" The Agent asked, the gentleness of his voice soothing John in a way few other Agents could.
"I don't know," John felt the pad pressed against him in the embrace. He then pulled away and reached for it. Astonishingly, the Agent allowed him to clutch it tightly once more.
"You two bonded quite a bit then, did you?" The Agent whispered.
John said nothing, only wept.
The Agent looked thoughtful for a moment. He had an idea, but would it work?
He gazed sympathetically at the broken, weeping man. He had closely followed John's case and knew about his first bout of separation with someone be deeply cared for.
Figures like shadows…?
The Agent frowned. That definitely rung a bell. Too many bells. He had launched an investigation on sightings of beings such as those not too long ago. It went cold, but now that another witness-
A particularly loud wail from John snapped the Agent from his thoughts. His thoughtfulness then led to anger, which he freely allowed himself to feel, but rarely to express.
How he wished he could aid in helping the more 'innocent' SCPs obtain some relief from their woes. Every idea he ever, had followed as few as the Foundations protocols as possible. Not wanting to risk containment breaches or something worse, he always refrained from enacting any of his ideas.
Then he smiled. This Agent didn't play by the rules like most of the others did, however. Where rules roamed, loopholes laughed.
"I think I know a way that we can bring her back." The Agent put a hand on his shoulder.
"No you can't." John gasped in between a sob.
The Agent gave John a gentle squeeze. "It's just a hunch, but it's something. This will be an extremely long shot, but I think I can make a convincing appeal."
"What kind of appeal?" John felt trickles of hope in his heart.
"To bring her back. It needs to be done in no less than six hours, however. Come with me." The Agent started down the hall without another word in order to subtly force John to follow.
And follow, he did. Down a winding maze of weaving paths here and there; this included Cassy's room where she was earlier. In her body armor pacing back and forth frantically.
He stopped for a moment, looking longingly at the door.
"Hey!" The Agent called for John, who jogged up to him.
At last, they turned one more corner and entered a room.
John wasn't completely sure on what to expect; perhaps something grand and imposing. Not something as simple as an office with personnel seated at ordinary tables.
"Agent Egrene?" One of the Council addressed the Agent that was with John.
"Cassy is dead. Murdered by mysterious entities described as black figures that resembled shadows. Subject SCP-507 has yet to fully disclose on his experience with them. I will interrogate him soon, but first I must make an appeal." Agent Egrene ushered John inside, who still clutched the drawing pad. "I wish to use SCP-318 to bring her back."
SCP-318? John had never heard any mention on such a device. Still, considering the track record of the Foundation, if absolute tragedies were allowed with impunity, perhaps the same could be said about miracles.
"SCP-85? Dead?" The Agent raised an eyebrow.
Agent Egrene then signed a message. John cursed his inability to read sign language.
"Allow us some time to think on that. Don't worry. We will make the decision before the supposed effective time runs out." The Council Agent answered.
"Thank you," Agent Egrene ushered John out before any of the Council members could confiscate the pad.
"One more thing, Egrene," The Council Agent added, "There was once contemplation on the idea of her termination. Should we agree to it, this Cassandra's death may very well be dismissed."
Agent Egrene stopped dead in his tracks.
"Excuse me for a moment, John." Agent Egrene motioned to the cafeteria. "I'll meet up with you there." Agent Egrene's face was blank and calm, yet his eyelids were near imperceptibly raised and strained in a subtle portrayal of what John could only recognize as anger. Mostly, the bulging vein was the biggest giveaway.
Even though John knew the gaze wasn't directed at him, he felt his blood run cold and he obeyed.
Near-absolute silence permeated the cafeteria and drilled itself into his ears. He spent most of the time sitting and staring at the empty drawing pad.
The quiet of the cafeteria intermingled with the blank page in front of him was gnawing at his very being. Even the ticking of the clock couldn't break this thick heavy cloud.
He decided to break it by tracing his finger across the paper. This weak ASMR was but a feeble attempt at easing his nerves; the sound of his fingertip lightly dragging across paper did nothing to calm him.
How long did he have to wait?
Did time even matter anymore?
John closed his eyes for a moment to listen to the clock.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
He laid his head on Cassy's drawing pad and tried to steady his breathing.
When Agent Egrene shook him awake, he couldn't remember when he'd fallen asleep.
His cheeks was firmly planted on the blank drawing pad. Thankfully he didn't drool on it.
"The appeal has been made. Now we wait." He took a seat beside John, who stretched and rubbed the grogginess from his eyes.
"Do you think they'll approve it?" John tried in vain to fight the hope rising in his chest.
"Now we wait," the Agent repeated. "Now tell me everything that happened on your end."
His answer did not satisfy John, but he complied.
"I was in a different Foundation. Site-17. The alarms were ringing and there were screams but no bodies. I knew I had to get away, but I can't explain it." He shook his head. "I saw Cassy's room and I let curiosity get the better of me. I found her and I took her with me." He stopped to make eye contact with Agent Egrene.
His eyes did not show the monotonous, blank business-like glossy gaze that was just a trait every other Agents shared. John thought he recognized genuine compassion. They seemed to sparkle as though they longed to share their tears with you.
John barely trusted it, but who else would talk to him right now?
"I offered to take her with me. I don't know what I was thinking. It just came out." John laughed, surprised at how naturally he smiled.
"I'll make that appeal as well." The Agent firmly promised. "And I'll make damn sure I get it through."
John frowned. "How the hell could you do that?"
"You don't believe me and you think I'm just a heartless bastard who would willingly dissect you at a moment's notice, just like how they did to that other instance of you. You think maybe I'm doing this just to trick you into being just a little happy." The Agent's words had a tinge of sass to them, strangely. "I have no reason to trick you into believing I could bring Cassy back. She's classified as Safe, therefore I can make an appeal that the Council has no reason to refuse. I WILL bring her back."
His straightforwardness shook John a little. It was unusual for agents to be so forthcoming like this.
"I tell you, SCP-507-"
"John," John corrected him.
"John." The Agent nodded. "I'll make that appeal. If I may brag a smidgen, I believe I have a little more sway with the Council than most Agents do. Now wait here."
Agent Egrene then walked back to the Council room.
So John waited, twiddling his thumbs.
He closed his exhausted eyes again. For a moment, he relived everything that had just happened. He vowed to keep his eyes open after that.
Every single blink that followed then served the function of bringing the harrowing flashbacks of watching his new closest friend dying in unknowable tortuous pain.
He clutched the pad closely again, shaking. The dams threatened to vanish again. This time, there was no rage to maintain them.
He took a look at the clock and felt his heart shrivel into a tiny sphere when he saw how much time had passed.
Five hours and twenty minutes.
John leapt to his feet and ran to the cafeteria door. He had good memory. He could definitely make his way to the Council.
And do what? Beg?
He walked back to his seat, head lowered, and sat back down.
"Goodbye, Cassy." He caressed the empty pad. "Thanks for keeping me company."
The doors opened loudly, presenting a very satisfied-looking Agent Egrene.
"John." It was the curling at the edges of his lips as well as the way his eyelids were just a tad more relaxed. His temples had also smoothed and no longer showed the bulging vein.
"H-has…?" John saw victory in those eyes.
"It's been approved. Let's go." He beckoned John to follow him.
They emerged into SCP-318's chamber.
John allowed his wide eyed gaze to wander across the complicated menagerie of mechanisms that adorned it. Endless blocks of woods and metals comprised it's body.
Agent Egrene led John to the machine, where he opened a lid to a small compartment.
Agent Egrene placed Cassy's drawing pad inside, closing the lid with a soft thud. The machine then came to life, lights previously unseen now casting shadows of their form upon the walls.
"Will this
actuall-?" John stuttered breathlessly. "Will this actually work?"
Agent Egrene gave him a response that was incredibly out of character with the persona he has thus shown so far. He smiled and said: "beats me."
John found that he could return the smile.
Although the saying goes that a watched pot never boils, they ignored that advice and did so anyways. Besides, the flashing lights were fascinating.
It was mostly quiet, however, partway through, voices emanated from it.
"Get us out of here!" John clasped his hands over his mouth. He heard her voice. It was Cassy.
"I know you can, John! I know it!"
John relived it again. The walls crushing them together. The demand for atonement.
The tears started again, but he barely seemed to notice.
SCP-318 then stopped just as quickly as it had started.
"…what now?" John stammered, wiping his eyes.
Agent Egrene slowly went to another box on the machine and opened it. He produced a rather large scroll from it and showed it to John. It was firmly tied with a string. "She's in here now." He handed it to him.
John took it, dumbfounded. He looked to the scroll, then to Agent Egrene and then back again.
"Is she!?" John quickly tried to pull the string off before Agent Egrene put his hand over his, stopping him.
"Do it in your room, John. Go."
John, with the new scroll in hand, sprinted back to his private quarters, his grip tight on the doweled parchment. His heart threatened to burst. How many rules were being broken here? Would Agent Egrene be severely punished?
None of this mattered as much as Cassandra.
On his way to his quarters, he saw the room that held Cassy's pad. The door was slightly ajar, so he peeked in like he did before.
There was a drawing pad.
He craned his neck to get a better look. There was a Cassy there. Likely the Cassy of this world.
That's how the appeal went through. This was a different Cassy he befriended. A Cassy that the Council likely deemed unimportant and disposable, therefore they would not have cared if she remained dead or came back.
With a grin, he sprinted to his room and locked the door behind him. He untied the scroll and opened it slowly, his fingers shaking and unsteady. As he unfurled the parchment inch by inch, his eyes were first greeted with some text that was organized somewhat wildly.
Upon unfurling it further, he realized…
It was Cassy, but this time, her body consisted of words.
More importantly, it was Cassy.
"Cassy?!" John overflowed with joy; his head was spinning from it.
Cassy turned to him, the look of surprise portrayed remarkably well in her new art style.
"John?" Her lips moved. Words floated next to her when she spoke.
"Cassy!" He screamed into his palm. The dams did not suddenly vanish this time. No. Cassy had gently removed them for him.
"John!" Cassy wept as well, her tears shown in harsh balls of ink. "I was so scared! I was hugging you and then I was ripped out! It…really hurt. I was erased." She held herself tightly. John saw that and felt the knot twisting around his heart at his current inability to be those arms.
John's tears fell on the parchment.
"Keep me dry, John." Cassy covered her smiling mouth. She was giggling. She then held a hand out to him.
The letters on the page became large enough to form the shape of a hand. The words shown were many instances of John, thank god!
John wiped the parchment with the blanket from his bed first before placing his hand over hers.
He removed his hand when the view zoomed in on her face. The lines of text flowed smoothly like water.
"Is this real?" she asked. "Am I real?" The message formed near her face.
"Yeah, Cassy." John laughed a bit. No. He actually laughed quite a lot. "I think it is...you know, I just realized you can hear me."
Cassy had a massive grin on her face. Smile. Happy. Joyful.
"I didn't think about that. I got so used to your voice, I just..." She trailed off.
John lightly caressed the paper, using just one fingertip.
The view zoomed in on her face, with circles of words flooding her cheeks.
Blush. Blush. Blush.
"Sit with me like this." She practically begged.
"Of course," John grinned. And so he did.
"Is this allowed? Us being here like this?" Cassy sat next to a bed frame of text, matching John's position.
"I think it is." John thought of Agent Egrene and smiled.
"Don't let go of me. Promise." Cassy asked.
"I promise." He held the drawing pad to the parchment. "I think this will be better if you come back to this."
She nodded and ran to her drawing pad. She immediately returned to her original art style, although with the text-based attachments added to her artistic flourishes.
"Can you still hear me?" John asked.
Cassy nodded. "I can still see you, too." John saw that she retained her new ability to just speak in text next to her head.
"Now I can keep you with me." John patted the drawing pad as he sat against the head of the bed and placed Cassy on his lap.
"Are you sure that's allowed?" Her face gave away the anxiety she felt.
"I don't know. I think so. I met an Agent who helped me revive you when I came back."
"Really, now? Someone did that for you? How? Why?"
"I don't know why…" John looked to the blank white wall of his room, as though he was looking for the answers there. "I don't want to think about that."
Time passed. And then John shifted. They shifted.
The feeling of being dazed after a shift was the one thing to which he would likely never grow accustomed.
He appeared in an office not unlike the one used by the Council, but with only one desk.
Seated on the other side was Agent Egrene, who looked quite calm yet quite smug, elbows on the table and chin on one hand. The other hand was held closely to him.
John then quickly noticed Cassy sat right beside him. The revival via SCP-318 added a new peculiarity to her; she now had tattoo-like text slipping across her skin similar to the way it flowed on the parchment. She was looking at her tattoos, flexing her fingers and feeling her face in disbelief. She did this until she noticed John. They made eye contact. She grinned an impossible grin that he could not hope to match.
Within seconds, he once again relived everything that had happened. Cassy must have seen the haunted look in his eyes.
That was all instantly expunged when Cassy took his hand. She squeezed and was not too gentle about it. Quite frankly, John found it rather painful.
Neither of them cared.
"Well, well, well, John!" It was Agent Egrene. "What a lovely surprise, just hopping into my office like this. I said I'd get the appeal through." He gestured to the both of them.
"Appeal?" Cassy interrupted, frowning. Realization then hit her. "You're the one who saved me."
"I suppose so, yes. I gave you as a gift to him. Your drawing pad, I mean. With you on it." He chuckled.
"So you gave him me?" Cassy giggled.
"Yes. So to speak." The Agent smirked.
"I saw the other Cassy," John blurted without thinking.
"Other...Cassy?" She frowned and tilted her head.
"That's the Cassy of that world. That's the loophole you used to bring this Cassy back." John squeezed Cassy's hand to calm himself. She squeezed back, even tighter than before.
"And," John added, "you're not the same Agent Egrene who helped me. When I shift, it's always a different dimension first before I come back to mine. Who are you?
No, what are you?"
"Everywhere." Agent Egrene stated this as though he expected John to comprehend it. "Leave it at that. I'm the same man who greeted you when you shifted back with a blank drawing pad. You're in a different dimension now, yes, but I'm still that same man."
"But-"
"No, John. Just leave it at that." He smiled a tiny smile and gave a small, satisfied, "hm."
"Thank you." Cassy's voice shook.
Agent Egrene nodded before continuing: "Ok, time for the ground rules." He clapped his hands together dramatically.
"So long as you two are together, you will shift together. When you two shift somewhere else, she'll have a physical body. Once you shift back home, she'll be on the drawing pad again. This works because other dimensions do not have to work on the same laws we do." He leaned back in his chair. "This is one of those."
"And that," Agent Egrene continued as he pointed to the drawing pad John still held, "as long as you have that, you're in contact with her, ergo, she will always shift with you."
"I'll never lose it," John quickly added.
"I know you won't." Agent Egrene reached into a drawer and pulled out flashlights, binoculars, firearms with actual bullets and other miscellaneous tools.
"These are for your own personal use. Cassandra, when you return home with John, your items will be with you in your art form."
"Is this real?" Cassy asked. John saw a tear silently sliding down her cheek. He wiped it for her.
Agent Egrene smiled. "Yes. This is real." He stood to his feet. "You have time here. Enjoy it for now. Good day." He walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.
"Umm…" Cassy said after some silence.
John looked at her for a moment, a single tear coming from his eye. Cassy, in return, wiped this with her own shaking hand. Compelled by this simple gesture, he stood up and pulled her into a tight hug, which she leapt into with full force, nearly toppling him.
"I still can't believe this. This is real. This is really happening." Cassy buried her face in John's chest, which heaved in an oddly comforting manner.
"Yeah. It is." John gently caressed the back of Cassy's head, stroking her hair.
Cassy pulled away a little, but still staying very close to him. "What do you think?" Cassy asked, looking at her tattoos.
"I think they look...nice? I don't know, I wasn't expecting that. Wasn't expecting..." He looked into her eyes again. The words gathered in her cheeks again.
Time passed. They shifted back to his room.
John smiled as he leaned back against his bed and held Cassy's drawing pad on his gut.
She smiled back.
