Author's Note
Okay, I'll admit, this idea came out of nowhere. I'd been watching Doctor Bob on YouTube when this idea hit me, and I had to put it down into writing. I felt like I just had to write this, because I practically have completely free reign to do what I want, as there is no established cannon for the SCP universe.
Uploaded
08/19/2023
LEGEND BELOW
"I don't know how to go on..." = Normal speech.
''What would you do...?' = Normal thoughts.
Chapter 1
A longing for what was lost
Rated-M
M rating for death, nudity, mentions of suicide and depression, and anything else dark related to the SCP universe.
Music of the day
Skyrim - Secunda
Snap!
Drop!
He jolted awake, practically throwing himself from his bed. He was screaming, eyes shooting wide as he frantically scanned his room, looking for it, frantically, desperately.
He fell out of bed, hitting the ground with a dull thud, the pain knocking some sense back into him.
He lay there on the ground, legs still entangled within his sweaty bedsheets, eyes blankly searching his ceiling above. His head throbbed in his skull but he couldn't bring himself to care, the weight of everything slamming into him with the speed of a bullet train.
He had that dream again…
That terrible, horrible dream…
It was a nightmare, a vivid retelling of his own memories, his experience of the past.
It was a nightmare that showed him how he'd lost her, lost her to that…
That thing…
The dream started off the same every time just about, little discrepancies here and there to mix it up within his tired exhausted psyche.
There was a containment breach at site nineteen, some poor fool had sneezed when trying to contain SCP-173. His companion had fallen way to fear and had looked away, and the rest was history. Due to a door malfunction and a host of other issues, the sculpture had escaped containment and had been running rampant throughout the facility.
D-class personnel had escaped from their cells, other SCP's were escaping in the chaos.
It was hell…
That's why he was sent in, as a member of the elite task force Nine Tailed Fox. His goal, alongside the rest of his team, was the re-containment of all escaped SCP's, and the neutralization of any disobedient D-class.
Things had started out so well at first.
His commander had gone in first, followed up by his comrades.
He followed them into the facility, bringing up the rear alongside another woman.
His wife, Camille Woods.
They'd made entry into the facility without a problem, making their rounds through the facility and tagging any disgruntled D-class personnel.
Things were going well…
Until they encountered the Sculpture.
The anomaly had been hiding in a server room, standing out of sight in the shadows. With the amount of eyes in the room, that should've prevented it from getting the better of them, without question.
But, they'd made a terrible mistake at the worst of times. And when he heard the scraping of stone on concrete, he'd spun around to face the sound, knowing damn well what it meant.
He had no idea that there was space behind the server that allowed the creature to sneak around. He remembered hearing her screams cut short by a terrible snapping sound.
He should've been dead too, with how fast the thing moved. But, as if to taunt him for his mistakes, the statue had stood there over its kill, waiting for him to turn around and lock eyes with it.
He couldn't explain, even now, the feeling of his heart sinking in his chest. His entire world had fallen apart in the span of a second, and he couldn't do anything about it, staring at the anomaly that had just taken his wife away from him.
He'd felt an overwhelming sense of loss in that moment, but he couldn't even look at his wife. If he'd looked away for even a moment, he'd likely join her on the ground forever. His team had rushed in, pinning the sculpture in place long enough to re-contain it.
But for him, he'd locked up. He didn't scream, didn't yell, didn't shout…
He just, locked up emotionally. After all, he was a member of Nine Tailed Fox, these things were to be expected to happen eventually. He couldn't lose his composure, not here and now.
But once the mission was over, the facility secured once more, and he was allowed to return home…
He broke down.
Everything had lost its meaning with her gone, and he'd lost the meaning of his life.
Every night, he was haunted with nightmares, reliving those memories of her death. He couldn't stop blaming himself for what had happened, even knowing it was not entirely his fault.
Most days, he'd wake up from the nightmare screaming, the smiling face of the sculpture staring at him in his mind's eye. When he'd finally calm down, he'd sink into the bed or floor, wherever he'd end up, pressed down by the weight of it all.
Most days, he'd found it increasingly difficult to crawl out of bed.
Today was just the same, the nightmares plaguing his dreams.
And he again found himself staring blankly at the ceiling above, alone in his room, on a bed that used to house two…
It took a considerable amount of time before he found the energy to pull himself out of the mess of sheets he'd been tangled in. Black bags hung underneath his sharp red eyes, carrying with him a sense of exhaustion that was bone deep.
Not even bothering to throw on pants, he sulked out of his bedroom in nothing but his boxers and a tank top. He was awake now, no use trying to fall back asleep.
After all, he couldn't escape his life in those nightmares either.
Some time later he found himself in the open kitchen of his home, the place wide open and spacious. Camille had wanted their house to have a huge living space with a kitchen as part of the center. Living out in the woods as they did, there was plenty of space.
Working for the Foundation and as a member of the Nine Tailed Fox task for allotted him quite the amount of cash to spend. It hadn't taken them what but a few months to have a construction crew build the thing from the ground up.
But now all that money meant nothing to him, because he no longer had anyone to spend it on.
He'd not left the house for days, not even the Foundation had called him or his team in, life going surprisingly smooth for the rest of the world.
He should feel so lucky…
Eventually he found himself in the dining room with a cup of coffee in one hand, and a plate of toast in front of him. He wasn't hungry, but knew he had to eat something to continue living.
Camille wouldn't have wanted him to sulk until he starved to death. If he met her before he was ripe and old, she'd probably beat the shit out of his ghost until he returned to life.
He smiled a ghost of a look at the amusing thought, finding his mind drawn to old memories of them together. It was the memories of her that kept him going, otherwise he truly had no one left.
His family had all died out or had been so far separated from him that they'd never spoken to him, and now seemed like a terrible time to start opening that boiling can of worms…
His smile faded after a bit, unable to focus on anything due to the feeling that his large house now felt so unbearably empty. It was far too big to fit just one…
They'd originally planned to fill it with more, but that was nothing more then a pipe dream now…
"What am I supposed to do…?" He asked to no one in particular, gaze drawn to the chandelier hanging above the dining room table. He found his eyes glued to the twinkling lights above, the lights dimmed to the point that they served to barely light up the room in the morning.
It was just how she'd liked it.
"What would you do, Camille…?" He choked out quietly, tears prickling at the corner of his dull red eyes.
But no one answered his questions.
He sighed, moving to stand up.
He needed some fresh air…
The sounds of a creek rushing met his ears, birds chirping quietly here and there, leaving the area in a state of serenity.
It was still early in the day, not even noon yet. He hadn't even bothered putting on shorts before he stepped out the front door, slipping into his sandals he'd set out some time ago, the footwear caked in dirt.
With coffee mug in hand, he found himself wandering down to the shoreline, gaze drawn to the beautiful lake he called his neighbor. Having built his house at the most beautiful lake in Tahoe, he'd come to expect a great view no matter where he looked.
Eventually he found himself standing by the water's edge, the pine trees that lined the ground moving about gently in the wind.
With nothing better to do, he sat down by the water, feet dipping into the cool blue liquid.
"This was your favorite place to sit, Camille." He said to no one, a broken smile on his face.
No voice responded to him, because he was alone.
"I come here whenever I'm desperate to see you again." He continued as if carrying a conversation. It was the only thing that made the pain in his chest lessen, even just a little.
"The water here reminds me of your eyes, although yours sparkled more… Heh…" He laughed quietly, tears falling from his dull red orbs.
He didn't know how long he sat there, pondering so many things that he lost count. Eventually though, it began to grow cold, and even he couldn't ignore it anymore.
But, as he went to get out, he noticed something peculiar.
True to what he'd stated prior, the water here did look similar to his wife's eyes. But more than that, there was a new color within the water.
It was a peculiar patch of emerald green liquid that looked like it was, strangely enough, the purest looking water he'd ever seen, despite the almost magical color of it.
He'd been so entranced by it that he couldn't help but drop everything as he ran back inside, rummaging through his kitchen drawers before finding what he was looking for.
A large jar. He'd no use for it before, but his wife had purchased it to use it for collecting things she found interesting. And he knew without a doubt that she'd be all over that green water in a heartbeat if she'd seen it, so he felt compelled to do it in her stead.
Without even throwing on his sandals, he ran back to the waterside, the strange green water still there, seemingly magically separated from the rest of the pure water. Carefully, he scooped the emerald waters into the jar, before sealing it with a lid to prevent it from being contaminated.
Holding it up in his hands so that the late morning sun could shine through it, he couldn't help but notice just how mysterious the water looked.
He stared at it for a bit, before sighing. The excitement he'd felt upon finding was dimmed considerably when he remembered that he no longer had that special someone to share his findings with.
Eventually he trotted back inside, not even bothering to shut his front door. No one else lived out here, the only thing he had to worry about was wild animals, but within the area, the only things were cats, oddly enough…
Without thinking anything of it, he set the jar beside the picture he had of Camille. With them to compare, he couldn't shake the resemblance his late wife's eyes shared with the strange green water.
"I think I'm going crazy… I'm comparing my wife's eyes with god damn water…" He groaned in self realization, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.
He needed more coffee.
But more than anything, he needed a shower. That nightmare had him sweating bullets and now he stunk like hell.
Sure, there was no one else around to smell him, but he wasn't fond of wallowing in his own filth all day either…
It felt strange…
She was floating on a sea of infinite possibilities for what could've been eons, but was more then likely a much shorter time then she thought.
Eventually, however, her surroundings changed. One moment she was everywhere at once, and then she was contained in some sort of strange little clear world.
For the first time in a while, she opened her eyes, finding her work limited to a small confined space. She pushed her body around, but it couldn't be helped.
She was trapped…
Perhaps she should've been scared, but she'd never experienced anything beyond her lake before.
This…
This was all new to her, and fear wasn't an emotion she was familiar with.
She thrashed around in the jar, shoving her glass container around for a while. Eventually she was successful, her tiny container falling from the wooden mountain it was trapped on and barreled towards the earth below.
Crash!
Glass went everywhere, but suddenly she was freed!
And now she…
She…
Well, she hadn't thought past that point. And now that she was free, she didn't know what to do. However, now that she was no longer contained in the jar, she could form into herself.
Only…
She didn't know what she looked like. She knew she was supposed to have a body, like all the other things in the world, and this small liquid slime body wasn't it. But she didn't know what she was supposed to look like.
She glanced around the strange wooden room for clues as to her identity, only to stumble upon a strange object. It seemed to reflect her.
It was a woman, with the name underneath her reflection. Camille Woods.
Camille Woods.
That was her name…
It must've been. And the face she was looking at, it must've been hers as well! That made sense!
After a few moments passed, she stood in the odd wooden room, holding the strange mirror thing in her hands, lightly tanned. She wasn't very tall, probably only five foot five.
She wanted to look at herself some more, but this mirror must've been broken because it only showed her face no matter how much she looked at it.
"Hmm…?" She hummed in question, turning to inspect her surroundings.
There must've been a better mirror around somewhere, all the humans had those strange mirrors when they visited her great lakes before. Maybe this human's house would have one too!
Oh she couldn't contain her glee!
She sat the photo down, not realizing the true nature of a photo.
She walked through the house, somehow not leaving a trail of green in her wake. She was stumbled by the sound of rushing water, and found her attention distracted by it.
Maybe the water would know where more mirrors were?
With that as her sole thought, she followed her ears until she'd appeared at her blockade.
It was a large wooden thing. It was blocking her path, but she could hear water behind it rushing. She bent down low, inspecting the strange wooden rectangular structure oddly.
Maybe if she…?
Pushed on it?
Would it listen and move for her?
It was worth trying!
Tentatively, she reached out, placing her hand against the frame. She pushed lightly, and not a moment later the door opened for her. She shook in glee, walking into the new room excitedly.
The rushing water was loud now, like a waterfall. But she didn't see any waterfalls, just a lot of steam, clouding her vision.
The wood around this area was odd, bland and white. It didn't make sense to her. However, before she could dwell on it for very long, she found the mirror she was looking for.
She stood in front of it, tilting her head at her reflection.
Glowing green eyes met her gaze, long silky green locks cascading down her bare naked backside. She glanced down at her chest, noticing the sizable orbs on her chest, how they moved with every motion she did. She poked and prodded them to see how they reacted to her actions, curious about their nature.
She'd seen many humans come and go through her lakes in her many years, some with chest orbs and some without. She'd studied them from her place in her waters, taking note of the differences between them all.
Some had things between their legs, while some did not. Some human's things were very large, while some were very small. The confusing part to her was the fact that they could also grow at random, it made no sense.
Then came the soft humans, the ones with the big orbs on their chests! Sometimes they'd have large chests, and sometimes they'd have small ones. But unlike the humans with things between their legs, the humans with chest orbs couldn't grow them at will…
Humans were strange creatures…
She could grow her chest, just a thought and bam! It was bigger! She laughed as she started playing with them, finding it pleasant to touch for some reason she didn't fully grasp just yet. They jiggled with every little movement she made, hanging heavily on her chest. They looked considerably larger then her reflection did when she first got out of the jar.
They seemed a bit uncomfortable now, yet she decided that she'd keep them that way for now. She could always change them later, but she'd observed that the other humans liked it when the humans with the chest orbs had larger chests. It was appealing to humans, for some reason she didn't understand.
Looking down as her chest now, she could no longer see her feet, her long slender legs obscured by her breasts.
Humans were so weird.
She'd seen the other humans before, doing strange things to each other. The humans with the things between their legs would touch the humans with the thin their chests. And sometimes the humans with the chests would touch the humans with the things between their legs.
She needed to figure out what it meant, but that meant that she needed to find a human to communicate with!
She'd never had a body of her own before, always a part of the water of the Great Lake. But now she did have a body, and she really really liked it. There were so many things she could do now, so many exciting experiences that she'd always yearned to feel.
And she was going to start with exploring the body that she'd sculpted.
She tilted her head to the side as she grew her hips slightly, making them wider. Maybe her shoulders needed to be a little more slender, or maybe not?
She was experimenting.
She grew her hair out, until it was longer, down to her rear end. She looked over her shoulder, grabbing her butt as she poked and prodded at it. It too looked weird, but perhaps she simply wasn't used to having one in the first place. Maybe she could make it just a tiny bit bigger, that way her husband would look at it more then he did Casandra's stupid ass-
Wait…
What even was a husband, and why did she know about it?
She'd been so busy playing with her human-like body that she'd never noticed how her mind was drawn to her strange newfound memories.
She closed her eyes, focusing on the vague memories that passed by her.
She remembered now, just a tiny bit…
She wasn't just a water creature…
But now she was also Camille Woods, agent for the SCP Foundation, part of the elite task force Nine Tailed Fox…
She was on a mission with her husband, to re-contain the escaped SCP's who'd been killing the personnel of the facility. Then she blinked and she-
She jolted in…
In…
In fear!
The sensation was so new to her, so strange, so otherworldly. She hated it! She didn't like it, not one bit.
Nononono!
What happened next?! W-Why?! Why couldn't she remember?
What had…?!
What had happened…?
For the first time since she'd awoken from her jar, she found herself truly looking at herself in the reflection of the mirror. She raised a hand to her face, green fingernails shining in the light of the bathroom as she stared at her reflection.
She was Camille Woods…
She was a woman, married to a man named Travis Woods. He was her husband, also an agent for the Foundation. They'd been on a mission together…
And then…
Nothing…
Her legs felt shaky underneath her, and she collapsed to the ground beneath her, finding it suddenly so cold and lonely…
Before…
Before she was just an observer, nothing more, nothing less. All she could do before was observe those that ventured into her lake, look at them, and watch them leave. It was a lonely life, but it was all that she knew.
Then he came along, the human with the thing between his legs-
Err…
No…
Man.
He was a man.
The man had a name, Travis Woods, husband to Camille Woods.
He talked to her at her lake every day, when the sun was still young in the sky. He would say things to her that she'd not understand, but eventually she would.
She was his wife, and he'd come to talk to her every morning. He'd cry because she was gone, but she was confused because she was right there with him all the time.
She hadn't died…
She'd only been misplaced.
And when he'd cry in her lake, she'd slowly begun to find her place. He'd talk to her every morning and night, telling her about her past with him, all their crazy escapades they'd gotten into. It made her feel like she was someone, that she was real, that she was a person, someone who was cared for.
When he scooped her up from her lake, her memories had become jaded. It took some time for them to settle into her new human body, but they were settling just the same.
She was Camille Woods, wife to husband. Husband was Travis Wood. American male, red eyes, six foot four, dark black hair.
Travis had grown sad lately, because she'd gone missing it seemed. But he had no need to be sad, she was here now.
She needed to find him, make him not sad. Yes, that made sense.
She stood up from the ground, catching one more glance of herself in the mirror. For some reason she couldn't quite make her hair not slimy, her hair still green and liquid, all shaped in the form of her long locks. Oh well, no one was perfect after all.
She spun around at the sound of the water's rushing, realizing that it must've been where her husband was hiding from her.
He was silly, thinking he could hide from his wife. What was he thinking?
She walked deeper into the bathroom, finding a glass door that was more easily opened than the wooden one. She grabbed the handle, pulling it towards her before she stepped inside.
She smiled softly at what she saw, the man facing away from her. She joined him in the shower, pressing her oversized bosom into his back as she enveloped him in a tight hug. He was crying, sad because she'd been gone.
But she wasn't gone anymore.
No.
She was here now, and she wasn't going to leave anytime soon. She was his wife, and wives were supposed to take care of their husbands when they were hurting.
"Good morning, Darling… I'm sorry I was gone for so long…" She whispered softly…
He was so tired…
He'd felt like he'd not gotten even an hour of sleep the last couple days, hanging on by a thread. He thought a shower would help wake him up, but he was having trouble not falling asleep in it.
He placed his hand's against the wall, the water pouring over his naked body.
He's tried to get over her, keep his head down and focus on his life without her. But his life without her was not a life he wanted to live.
Every day that passed he was more and more sure that he'd lost the will to live, and each passing day that came made the urge to end it all that much more appealing to him. The only thing that had stopped that from happening was the image of her face in his mind, staring at him in disappointment.
He couldn't end it here, not now. Camille would be furious with him.
"Heh…" He laughed quietly, the sound choked. The laugh slowly turned into sobs, and before he knew it he was crying, the feelings he'd been holding in for weeks slamming into him with the weight of a train.
"Damnit… I'm a highly trained elite soldier… I-I can't be crying over this…" He choked out, berating himself.
He said that, but his training meant nothing anymore now that she was gone. That hole in his heart had grown far too large to be ignored anymore, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe with every passing day.
And today, he felt like he was suffocating.
"Camille… What am I supposed to do?" He asked aloud, collapsing to the floor of the shower. He put his head in his hands, silent. "What am I going to do now? I need you…" He said…
But…
This time…
This time, he wasn't met with silence.
After weeks of talking to the lake, gaining no response. He finally had something talk back to him.
He sucked in a breath when a pair of breasts pressed into his back, long slender arms wrapping around him in a loving embrace with a sense of familiarity he'd oh so desperately missed.
"Good morning, Darling… I'm sorry I was gone for so long…" The voice whispered softly, the ghost of his late wife on her tongue. He felt his heart freeze in his chest, unable to react.
Tentatively, he turned to look over his shoulder.
What he saw, was the sad smiling face of his wife, embracing him from behind.
But this time, she was no mere illusion, conjured up by his desperation.
She was real, she was physical, she was alive. She was here now, holding him, touching him, her naked supple body pressed against his with that familiar sense of warmth he'd been so desperate to feel once he'd first lost it.
And…
Well…
He didn't know how to handle that.
"I'm here now. I've got you. I won't leave you again." She promised, staring into his surprised red eyes. Thinking about it for a moment, she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his in a passionate kiss, just like she'd seen all those other humans do.
She eventually pulled away, a small trail of saliva connecting the two together. She grinned softly, eyes closing as she laughed that familiar little laugh.
His eyes were wide, quivering in his head. He felt like he was being touched by a ghost, kissed by a ghost, embraced by a ghost…
And he realized something else too.
He didn't care anymore.
"I'm sorry that I took so-" She tried to apologize, but he cut her off. He grabbed her, pulling her into a passionate kiss that held all of his emotions in it. She felt her eyes roll to the back of her head as he kissed her back, his hands roaming her body.
"C-Camille…?" He whispered after pulling away, eyes wide. He studied her face, her body, the changes that had occurred.
Her chest was larger, physics doing wondrous things to them whenever she'd move. Her hair was made of a green water that looked more akin to slime than water, but it was long, pooling down in the shower around them. Her body was changed, different than he remembered it.
He knew every inch, every contour, every curve and crevice. This person looked like his wife, sounded like his wife, tasted like his wife, felt like his wife, and acted like his wife. But she wasn't.
In all likelihood, he was naked in the shower with an anomalous entity that had appeared in the shape of his late wife. Another escaped and or newly unknown SCP that had yet to be contained and studied, another creature to lock up in the facility where it would stay forever if found.
And…
He didn't care.
Because in the end, he had her back, and he didn't care how broken that made him in reality. And he wasn't going to turn her in, not now, not ever.
Chapter
1
End
If this story gets positively received, then I'll continue it, lol.
