Where...am I?

To Xavier's horror, he was chained to a table. In a panic, he started thrashing against his shackles. "Let me out! What did I do wrong?! I won't do it again, just let me out!"

It didn't take long for his abilities to manifest themselves, something he was far from pleased about. Molten metal was poured onto his sharpened appendages and nails, making the man they were attached to scream in agony.

When the metal failed to damage him, they then used diamond blades. Fuck! It hurts so much!

Did...Did something just shatter on the ground?

When the distressed guinea pig gazed at the floor, he saw a splintered piece of blue topaz lying there. Looking at his hands, a part of the claw on his left index finger was in pieces, right before his eyes.

"We still have many more tests to carry out on you, SCP-8166. You can rest for a bit before they resume."

If he had more energy, Xavier would have made his hatred and anger more obvious. But all he could do was glare at the smirking man before lowering his head in defeat, warm tears staining his cheeks.

Once his wings and claws had regenerated, he was unceremoniously shoved into a freezing room. And then, two voices he had come to recognize and loathe played on the loudspeakers. 5239's parents.

His integrated blades returned as he lunged for the loudspeakers. The researcher from earlier couldn't help but snicker. "I swear, this trick must have been used at least five times during testing by now! And he falls for it every time!"

"Agreed. Dusk was always a predictable, pathetic pinhead, and him being a designated anomaly changes nothing about that," his friend added with a spiteful laugh.

"I must say, it's nice to see him suffer for once. He was never anything but a spoiled little brat, pampered by his friends at the top," their mutual friend commented.

As for Xavier himself, he could hear the conversation the three men were having through the speakers, and it brought tears to his eyes. Did everyone else really hate me that much? I won't deny that I was a bit coddled by Tom, but he was my friend!

And now hearing that my own coworkers are celebrating my torment? That they're laughing while I'm breaking down in body, mind and soul?!

Well, not on my watch!

His rage state fully activating, Xavier leapt towards the observation window. His mismatched eyes made no attempt to conceal the fury coursing through him. But he would not reach his target.

Frost coated his wings and claws as he fell to the ground, the gems shattering on impact. As Xavier let out a bloodcurdling shriek, the trio that despised him so much cackled and clinked their glasses.

Xavier curled up in the fetal position and sobbed into his knees, drowning out the mocking laughter of his detractors. He stayed in this position until a security team came to fetch him.

While Xavier recuperated in his cell, he started apologizing to the wall as he bawled.

"SCP-8166, your next test will begin in thirty minutes."

Xavier turned around to face the entrance. His mismatched eyes looked red, tired and swollen and his cheeks were streaked with dried tear marks.

In a shaky, hoarse voice, he replied with, "Alright."

The watchman in the doorway nonchalantly tossed a tissue box onto the bed and left, locking the door as he did so.

Cleaning his face and blowing his nose, the latest inmate of Site-17 took some time to reflect on his past friendship with the Director.

"Tom? Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"You know we aren't supposed to get attached to anomalies. They are objects first, people second," Graham reminded him.

"I know, but should we really be so hard on Rainer? He was clearly sorry for what happened-"

"Need I remind you that 4051 caused Anthony Roswell to be placed in a coma? One that is likely permanent, no less? Whether or not it feels bad for the event changes nothing. It needs to be punished."

"I thought this was about using Rainer to get amnestics! Now you're saying it's about punishing him?! You're not making any damn sense!" Xavier snapped.

"Are you trying to be smart with me, Researcher Dusk?" Graham snarled.

"I...I'm sorry, Tom. I don't know what came over me. It won't happen again! I promise!"

"It better not. I expect your latest project to be completed in two weeks."

Why hasn't Tom come to visit me? I was one of his closest pals before I got contained. Sure, he ended our friendship, but a part of him still cares about me, right?

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the click of a gun. With a sigh, he got up and followed the orders of his captors.

Xavier was strapped to a table, a hydraulic press right above him. "No! Don't let it come closer! Please, anything's better than this!"

The hydraulic press whirred to life, drowning out the derisive jeers of Xavier's belittlers. In a panic, he struggled against his restraints, which only made the straps tighten.

"Too tight! Too tight!"

His properties showing themselves again, the press came closer and closer to the distressed lab rat. When it finally made contact with his crystalline constructs, Xavier hollered in agony, feeling every splinter and crack of the stones and metal attached to his body.

After three long minutes, he was finally, finally, released from the table, his wings and claws little more than disintegrating stumps. Hyperventilating and sobbing, he was hustled down the corridors of his prison.

How could Tom possibly allow this? Did someone more powerful authorize these torture sessions without him knowing?

Maybe if I got in contact with him, I could tell him about this and he could save me.

Conveniently, Dr. David Edwards, another friend of the facility's chairman, passed by him.

Well, great. The man I need to ask is the guy who let 4051 get tortured.

"Where is Graham?" Xavier snarled.

"Why are you asking me?" David laughed.

"I know we've had our differences, but I'd appreciate if you helped me out for once."

"Yeah, that ain't happening," David snickered before moving on with his life. Bastard.

The disgraced researcher got the shock of his life when he was taken to an interview room. Is Tom finally coming to see me?

But instead of Site-17's head honcho, he was seated in front of Douglas Snapdragon. Or, as the latter was now known, D-7117.