I do not own this story; it belongs to NewScrapePro-Mincraft SCP Roleplay! nor is Spriggan, Ghost Recon, or Tom Clancy.
New job until meeting SCP-173 "THE SCULPTURE"
February 1st, 2017.
Mid-northwest United States.
Location: [Redacted]
Cory Carter yawned as he leaned farther into his green sedan's vehicle seat, on his way to his new work at a pizza lab somewhere in the United States. He'd been on this road for about a week, and the monotony of road travel was beginning to wear on him. So the yellow-haired young guy was glad to be out and about, soaking up the cool breeze, the clear blue sky, and the warm afternoon sun before he went stir-crazy. He'd already had to pull over a number of times to relieve himself on the side of the road.
Cory sighed as he felt the documents in his shirt pocket and reflected on what his buddy had given him when he left the ARCAM Corporation and went to university to study history, making this trip possible. Uni, his closest buddy from college, had proposed the job opportunity to him over the phone because the company was searching for a steady employee, and what a stroke of luck!
He'll fit right in as a security guard at a modest pizza lab, thanks to his previous training in the First Special Force Group, Delta Company, 1st Battalion, and subsequently as a SPRIGGAN. He couldn't help but laugh as he realized that for the first time in his life, he would finally be able to live a regular life.
Nobody was aiming at him.
There will be no killing or being killed.
There will be no more covert expeditions.
There will be no power-hungry basterds.
Most importantly, there will be no more OOPArts for him to guard, shut away, or destroy. That is if it doesn't bother them that he eats their pizzas all day.
Of course, they couldn't possibly know that someone had conveniently gone on covert missions for the ARCAM Corporation to seal or destroy OOPArt from advanced ancient civilizations (things, machines, ruins, etc.) from all known opponents who may use them for their own gain and hidden intentions.
The effort, spearheaded by ARCAM, the United States, and several countries, aims to protect the legacy of ancient civilizations, as there were others who wanted to use these artifacts to spread their influence while unknowingly causing an apocalyptic scenario, an act that would certainly kill every man, woman, and child on the entire planet, and repeating the mistakes of the distant past.
Fortunately, ARCAM would handle the situation by dispatching one of their finest agents, codenamed SPRIGGIN or Strikers, to lock it away before those power-hungry fools razed the entire world.
SPRIGGIN belonged to one of ARCAM's private army divisions, which comprised special operators recruited for covert action in dangerous regions without risking the company's position in the field. He was one of their agents. Unfortunately, when on a mission in Peru, he had a head injury that not only permanently blinded him but also gave him a rare sickness called a congenital tetrachromatic abnormality, which allowed him to see the infrared and ultraviolet spectrums, allowing him to see heat in color. As the problem worsens, exposure to light leads to absolute blindness. Forcing him to wear a prototype of single camera-like eyewear to replace his eyesight.
It was difficult at first, but he gradually adjusted his new lifestyle to accommodate his blindness and became accustomed to wearing the prototype goggles.
Because his goggles resembled a single-lens camera, some of the soldiers at ARCAM began calling him "cameraman."
Fortunately, it was not linked to his face. He had to remove his goggles at times, whether to enjoy a lengthy hot shower or to return them to R&D when they were severely damaged on missions. In which the technicians were more irritated by how frequently his goggles were destroyed, to the point that they had to create brand-new goggles with a reinforced case made of solid Orichalcum so he wouldn't permanently ruin the item in a fight. However, there are a few things that need to be cleaned up before he can relax.
And here is when Cory enters the picture.
Friendly and outgoing personality. The affable American-German man was all an ordinary businessman should be and seem like. His ensemble was completed by a teal tie, gray business pants, and a pair of black Oxford shoes. Cory's shape was the only distinguishing aspect of the guy since he possessed an athletic and toned body that could only be obtained via serious effort and long-term workouts.
Aside from his camera eye, he was absolutely unimpressive in every aspect.
Until someone with great perception looked him in the eyes. The manner in which he spoke, acted, and moved These facts might readily pass unnoticed by the inexperienced eye. Darting eyes, which most people dismiss as anxiousness, would be perceived as scheming escape routes and appraising the amount of cover available to an incredibly well-trained sight. Twitching hands, which are ordinarily viewed as a nervous tick, would be interpreted as the unintentional activation of a pistol or the holding of a knife. Cory gives nothing away by always acting like a naïve man kid, to quote him, 'acting like a naive man child' (in which he is humorous enough) while putting in the bare minimum or no effort. And the manner in which he walked...
It was like a well-trained predator impersonating a sheep.
Cory Carter, the regular individual, was just an average and plain American-decent young man searching for another employment.
However, among the top levels of the intelligence establishment, he was an intriguing and highly decorated US Army veteran. The only information available about him was that he had previously served in the United States Army Rangers before enlisting in Delta Force, where he passed with flying colors and completed multiple black operations missions. He caught the attention of the 5th Special Forces Group, earning the nickname "Jester" for cracking jokes as a stress reliever, and he was previously attached to the ARCAM special division as part of their joint effort to regain their trust as America's special forces representative.
Aside from that, no more information about him could be obtained, which perplexed and frustrated the world's premier intelligence organizations. Cory Carter and Jester were two completely different guys, everyone knew. To a select few, however, they were undeniably the same.
Having a nasty organization that broke from the Pentagon going about, governed by corrupt members of the US Congress who believe that America should impose political supremacy over the whole world, does not sit well with him. As a result, he resolved to take action as "Jester."
Cory had previously discovered incriminating evidence that implicated a third of the US Congress in corruption and illicit arms trade, both of which violated international law. He also discovered proof of top-level government officials being bribed, money laundering, illicit arms trafficking, and so on.
Cory Carter, who had just turned in second-rate equipment, was frequently unable to access the majority of the information discovered. But, because Jester had the knowledge and means to hack the Machine Corp mainframe while leaving as few digital tracks as possible, the unit's dirty laundry was up for grabs, and they were all the wiser for it.
All of the damning material was kept on a flash drive. The same flash drive he just completed transferring to the internet via a secure link a few seconds earlier. That is, until people started to notice. He had to flee from their death squads multiple times after they learned who was hacking their mainframe in one of their bases. He had to battle his way out of there four times, and holy shit buckets, they gave the phrase "stop holding back" a whole new meaning.
Cory's bruises and wounds are proof.
However, he chose to 'question' one of their intelligence supervisors as 'gently' as possible while the material was downloading, and in the process he came across a disc on his person. Cory, of course, had already duplicated the data on the disk onto another flash drive, which contained—surprise, surprise—detailed schematics of the most lethal hardware that was still in the experimental stages, not only from DARPA but additionally from ATHENA Corp., heat suppression, optical camouflage, and ballistic shields, and they were going to sell to the highest bidder, which was Trident Corporation.
Cory sneered at that. As if the Machiner platoon hadn't already given him reason to annihilate the basterds. Being flung around like a rag doll by mech troops and mercs while trying to stay alive, even in public, had tested even Cory's famed calm.
Now that he was far away from those motherfuckers, Cory could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
Even if he was driving a stolen sedan cruising deep into the wilderness, that was the Mid-West. Oh well, he thought to himself, at least the sights were magnificent and the breeze relaxing.
He was broken out of his musings by the sound of his earpiece going off, which was connected to his secure 'working' phone. Fishing out his phone to check on the caller, Cory smiled to himself before tapping his earpiece's button to accept the call. "This is Cory; how may I help you?" He asked.
"Hey, Cory, it's Mike from your last job," Cory smirked at the name 'Mike'. He knew, of course, who was on the other end of the line, but couldn't he find a better name than Mike? "Do you have time to talk?"
Cory smiled and rolled his eyes. "Of course," he said as he casually connected a scrambler to his phone. "Line secure; go ahead, Scott."
"Line secure on our end as well," said Scott Mitchel, commander of Delta Company, 1st battalion, 5th special forces group. "How's your road trip through the Midwest going?" Relaxing?"
Cory could envision the other man's smile when he stated that. "Har har, very funny, Colonel," he snarked, making the other man laugh. "I'm going crazy just getting cooped up here in my car, but other than that, just peachy!"
"Glad to hear you're having fun," Scott said dryly. "Did you send the files we need?"
"All accounted for," Cory said solemnly. "The Machine Corp. had more fingers in more pies than we realized." They have assets ranging from illegitimate black ops activities to illicit sophisticated cybernetic technology research, courtesy of corrupt senators. This is significant, Scott. I hope your employers notice."
"I'll believe it when I see it, Jester, but I've known you long enough to know that you would never exaggerate a threat." Scott Mitchell was among the few who had known that the young man was Jester as they had collaborated with him throughout their search for them. Of course, Cory was part of an even smaller circle of people who understood exactly who Mitchel was guiding and what group it was.
After all, he had spent most of his childhood among them.
"Just keep your head up, Jester," Mitchel murmured, his eyes narrowed. The man's voice had a faint tensile quality to it. "We tried to find out anything we could about this Pizza Lab you're going to; the website appears legitimate except for the coding." It appears to be a few days old, and when our technicians attempted to investigate further, they encountered a firewall. A formidable one at that. Furthermore, the facility is located on a historic college campus. Something isn't right. I thought you should know."
Carter made a small whistle.
He was aware that the CIA's cyberwarfare section had been a key source of intelligence collecting in recent years, and that they were now assisting the Campus in some of their activities. But combating one of the greatest hackers in the United States? That would need some major cybersecurity; unbelievable. "SCP Labs sure doesn't want people to learn their pizza recipes."
"From what I can gather from my sources, as well as the sound of your own voice, I'm inclined to agree," Mitchel said, somewhat amused. "Whatever the case, once the intel has been fully uploaded, we'll have everything to bury the machiner platoon for good."
Cory laughed. "Good riddance for that."
"Agreed," Mitchel agreed. "If you can, ask your friend in SCP Labs if he wants to change jobs after you finish in California. He appears to be an ideal prospect for our R&D."
"Right," Cory stated flatly. "And I'll try not to fill him with holes when he gets the drop on me."
A chuckle could be heard. "Roger that," Mitchell said. "And, as agreed, a half-million-dollar payment for your services will be deposited into your bank account upon completion of the intelligence transaction." It's a pity you gave up a full-time job in Ghost Recon to become a security advisor. We could have used you here. You're a great liaison between us and ARCAM."
Cory smiled regretfully, knowing the other man couldn't see it. Mitchell, he knew, still despised Cory's decision to go into security rather than remain in the military, as Mitchell had done his entire life. He had his own motivations for doing so, however.
"I miss the ghosts as well; you guys were like family to me when you guys found us." The blond-haired young man could notice Mitchell's persistent grimace. "But you know I'll be chafing under all the red tape sooner or later, regardless of the ghosts having what amounts to a literal 'license to kill.'" Adding to the amount of corruption and insane crap I've witnessed, I'm sorry, boss, but I need some time to ponder."
There was a brief pause.
"Understood," Mitchell said. "You've always been too stubborn for your own good, and I've got Diaz to compare it to!" That, and your limitless stomach!"
Cory burst out laughing. "You may come to regret that, Colonel,' cuz I might join a mercenary outfit just to piss you off," he said, getting a loud grunt from the other end that sent him off into another laughing fit. "But seriously though, that might be what I'll be doing for a while if this security guard gig doesn't work out; rejoining ARCAM's security force seems to be the right option—not the bloodthirsty war junkies."
On the other end, Mitchell could be heard sighing, plainly displeased. "I'll believe it when I see it, Jester." He sounded dissatisfied as one would expect from an old veteran. "You look out for yourself out there, Jester. "Michell out."
Cory smiled as he cut the connection and disconnected the scrambler. It was just another day on the job for him as a highly sought-after private security contractor. Now, all he had to do was sit tight and enjoy the ride.
It took him a few more hours to arrive at the lab, or, for want of a better phrase, fortress. Thick concert walls over a hundred meters high, watch towers to provide good fire views, fences with sharp barbed wire, and, last but not least, the checkpoint itself was strategically placed at the entrance to provide the most amount of cover in a firefight but turn into a chokepoint to bottle up any enemies trying to get in. He can bet his right eye that if someone were to launch a direct assault on this location, there would be a lot of bodies falling.
As he approached the checkpoint, he came to a halt and turned to face the highly armed security guard.
"What are you doing here?" inquired the guard, his voice roughened by years of duty.
"It's my first day!" "I'm here for my training," Cory remarked happily, hoping his attitude would lift.
"You?" the guard said, startled and casting a suspicious glance at him. "You don't look much of a scientist or a guard, for that matter."
"Well, I'll be a guard here." Could you just allow me in?" Cory stated.
The guard lifted a single brow behind his visor, wary of his camera's eyes. He inquired, "Do you have clearance?"
"Oh, of course, here's my paperwork." Cory took out his business documents and handed them to the security officer, who examined them closely before returning them.
"Everything looks in order; however, what's with the camera?" The guard was referring to his eyes when he stated this.
"Oh, you mean these?" Cory used his finger to tape the unique eyewear, and the security guard nodded. "These are goggles provided by my previous employer as a result of a rare disease I contracted on the job." It's not infectious, luckily, but it did interfere with my vision. This allows me to determine if you believe it or not. Is that it?"
"Sure, I guess just... don't mess up in there." The guard warned him.
Cory raised a single eyebrow behind his goggles before shrugging it off. "Yes, sir." And with that, he drove off into the factory compound to the parking lot so he could park his car.
As he looked around for a parking spot, he began to notice that the place looked more like a military base than a lab. Bearing in mind the number of guards around the facility, count about fifty or four guards outside, with one guard in each tower to act as a sniper. Not to mention the military vehicles spread out throughout the place.
The security guards in question were dressed in a white full-body suit with a black tactical vest overlaying the torso, which seemed to have three pouches fastened on it for storage (most likely magazines for their standard-issue rifle). Their vest is also equipped with an armor plate that protects the pelvis. They wear black balaclavas and black riot helmets with a yellow visor to conceal any face details. They also wear black gloves, black and gray shoulder pads (which have small, light-gray rectangular pouches with the name "SD" on them, probably for "Security Department"), black boots, and gray elbow and kneepads (the latter of which are most likely integrated into the bodysuit).
Their primary weapon is an FN P90 TR submachine gun with an ACOG scope (green lens) mounted on the upper rail. An automated bullpup submachine gun is an excellent weapon. But not as good as the Heckler & Koch G36C outfitted with a IDZ stock, which ARCAM utilizes as its primary weapon for most of the private army. Though the all-around M4A1 will always be his favorite weapon, the SIG Sauer MCX and the H&K 418 hold a particular place in his heart.
The scene gave him the impression that they were trying to hide something from the public or to keep something in, for that matter.
Why am I feeling that something bad is going to happen? Cory thought to himself. Shrugging the thought off, Cory found a perfect spot to park his car near a line of fuel trucks. Turning off the engine of the vehicle, Cory stepped out of the car, stretching all four limbs from all that time being cooped up in the car. He walked to the front of the facility. It wasn't much to look at, though. The building itself had the look of a mix between a military base and prison, rather than a simple lab to test new pizza.
"WOW!" Cory said out loud," I never thought I'd be here at the Sausage, Cheese, and Pepperoni Lab."
"There you are."
Turning around, Cory's lips turned into a smile as his best friend approached him. The man has blue hair, giving him a strange appearance. He is a few years older, but unlike Cory, he didn't
"And there you are! I've been looking all over for you." He said it sarcastically before quickly adding. "Not really; I just walked in."
Uni raised a single eyebrow, not finding the joke funny. "Right." He spoke slowly as he continued. "Anyway, I'm really excited for you to be working here, Cory."
"Me too brings me back to our college days. Staying up late, sleeping in, never going to classes, and napping for days Good times."
"I think that's mostly just you, Cory."
"Yep, used to call them the dog days, cuz you're a dog, ah!" Cory emphasized.
Uni gave him an embarrassed expression, causing his cheeks to turn red as he didn't know whether his friend was reminding him of how much of a lady's man he was back at college or just plain idiotic. "Wow."
"Either way, I'm really glad you recommended me for this job. I was getting really tired of job searching."
"I didn't recommend you," he replied in confusion. "Someone in management did." Uni pointed it out, but Cory just shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, it's the thought that counts. I'm just glad that I get to be a guard here."
"Yeah, about that." Uni paused for a moment before blurting it out. "You can't really be a guard here," Uni said bluntly.
He could hear the sound of glass shattering against a rock in the background when his friend's happy mood almost instantly turned to an angry frown on his face. "Could you repeat that?" Cory asked
"You can't really be a guard here."
"But I put this uniform on that you sent me in everything!"
"I didn't send you anything."
"Oh."
"Yeah, your job will be in the office... pencil pushing."
"Nooo!" Cory whined out," I thought I was going to be a guard." Sitting at a desk doing paperwork for seven hours a day. That is definitely not what he signed up for.
"Yeah, well, you see, they looked at your test scores, and...well, they think you're better off doing office work," Uni explained to him as gently as possible.
I knew I shouldn't have held back on the tests! Cory thought, mentally hitting his head against the imaginary door.
"That's no fun."
"This place isn't 'fun,' Cory," Uni emphasized as he continued speaking. "Luckily, to help you get used to the facility, I'll be giving you a tour."
"Lucky me," Cory groaned under his breath as he followed the lab coat scientists toward the heavily reinforced steel door facility. Its height looked menacing as they entered the building.
He was still upset that his chance of being a security guard was now gone because of a stupid test. He was a trained former Special Forces operator, goddamn it! not a glorified office worker writing stacks of paper documents for who knows how long. He didn't know what was worse. Working at a mysterious facility in the middle of nowhere or having to do actual work... again!
Groaning in frustration, he was tempted to hit something really hard right about now. But he thought against it because it was useless unless he was wearing an armored muscle suit back at ARCAM. While he was moping around like a child, Cory began to notice that there were more guards walking along the guard railing above their heads.
Watching the two of them for anything suspicious, guns were lowered but at the ready at the moment's notice as they continued their usual rounds across the facility. He could see many of the security guards were on edge. Years of working beside soldiers from both the Ghosts and ARCAM paramilitary wings told him that these guys were afraid that something terrible might happen in the next few seconds.
"So wait. What exactly am I going to be doing?" Cory asked.
"Well, I couldn't really tell you much over the phone. You know, for security reasons." Uni replied.
"Yeah, big brother is always listening," said Cory sarcastically.
Uni restrained the urge to sigh as he spoke. "You signed your contract, right? And the NDA?"
Cory nodded his head. "Yeah, I sign whatever they put in front of me."
The head scientist stopped in his tracks, slowly glanced at his friend, and said, "So you didn't read it."
"Nope."
"Oh dear." Uni muttered as he asked again, "So you really don't know anything?"
"Yeah, like, what does SCP stand for again?"
"Secure, Contain, Protect." Uni recited.
"So there's nothing to do with pizza."
Uni looked at him like he had a second head. "Why would it have anything to do with pizza?"
Cory shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."
"Moving on."
"So you like my boss?" Cory questioned.
"Correct."
"Cool," he simply said as he nonchalantly began walking to the door at the end of the room, a bit curious as to what was on the other side of the two wooden doors. But just as he was about to touch the door handle, Uni's voice, filled with annoyance, called out to him from across the corridor. "Hey, wait a second. You need to wait for me. I'm in charge here." Uni told him.
Cory turned around with a fake look of shock. "Oh geez, sorry."
"You better be there are some very dangerous SCPs on the other side of that door, and do you need me to escort you?"
"Right on," he said with a smile as he simply pushed open the door, and a familiar noise greeted his ears.
"Hey, what did I just tell you?"
"Secure, contain, and protect," Cory repeated plainly.
"No," Uni sighed, giving his best friend a serious expression. "Cory, you could die if you were not careful in there."
"What! No one told me that."
"Well, that's why you signed the contract," said Uni casually as he walked past him. "You can't see us if you do die."
In a moment of fear, Cory couldn't help but squeal in terror. "What!"
Uni didn't answer him as his friend's gaze continued to follow the lab coat-wearing dog, taking Cory a few seconds to realize that what he was staring at was not an office but a laboratory of some kind. busy one at that. The place was filled with dozens upon dozens of scientists so focused on doing their work that they were oblivious to what was going on around them. The lab equipment itself was nothing to scoff at either. He could see that a couple of the pieces of equipment in the lab were so expensive that they could only cost a miniature fortune. It reminded him of the ones at ARCAM, where they could study data on the ancient artifacts so they could better contain them.
Cory let out a whistle. "There are so many guards in here," he exclaimed.
"Don't go near them. They've got jobs to do, just like at Buckingham Palace." Cory warned.
"What does that mean?"
"That means you shouldn't bother them."
Cory raised his left eyebrow, wondering what he meant by that: "Okay, so what are they doing?"
"Behind those steel doors are very dangerous SCP creatures."
Creatures? SCP? What the hell are they keeping here? Well, whatever they are keeping here, it's definitely not OOPArts. Cory's thoughts and his instincts begin to warn him that something extremely dangerous is underneath his feet. Glancing at the steel-reinforced door again, but with more caution this time, because if this SCP Foundation is keeping something dangerous down there, he would rather keep his distance for now.
"So don't open it."
"I wasn't going to," Cory replied.
"Good. If you open that door, you could potentially cause a major breach that could potentially cause other breaches."
Then, as if the universe were listening to him, the lights suddenly turned red, followed by an alarm that rang out, causing everyone to stop what they were doing. Some of the scientists had expressions of pure terror or fear plastered on their faces as they started running to the nearest exits of the facility abandoning their posts out of sheer terror, desperately looking for anywhere they could hide in order to stay alive. At the same time, the security guards' muscles tensed as heavily armed guards in squads of four in tactical gear were moving in formation and ran past them in the opposite direction to support the security personnel.
Moving out of the way for a few of the research staff, he looked back at me and said, "I swear I didn't touch anything." He told Uni, who looked like he was calm, but in actuality, Cory could see that Uni was scared out of his mind from the inside. His entire body was trembling. Causing Cory to raise a single eyebrow at his best friend.
"Oh dear, I'll be right back," Uni said.
"Don't leave!" Cory almost yelled," I don't know what to do."
"Do you see that paper over on the desk?"
"Yeah."
"Just push it around until I come back."
Cory's mouth was hanging agape at his best friend for a minute before replying, "Are you shitting me?"
Uni didn't respond to the rude response as he shrugged his shoulders before quickly walking down the corridor with a dozen or so guards following right behind him. Cory, on the other hand, gave out a sigh as he leaned against the granite wall. His mind contemplates how he got into this situation in the first place. Cory couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh.
'So what's your name?" Cory asked, hoping to strike up a conversation with a nearby guard to pass the time. However, the guard stayed silent, not moving a single inch.
Cory faked a cough and muttered, "Right," under his breath.
"Cory, could you come here?"
"Why should I? And how the hell are you talking through the sound speakers?"
"Never mind how; just come here. This is literally a matter of life or death."
"Life or death?" Cory whispered quietly to himself, "I'll be right there."
Hearing the edge in his friend's voice, Cory began jogging down the corridor where his friend went down.
Unfortunately, since he had only seen a small part of the facility, it was a bit difficult for him to properly navigate which room Uni was in. All the doors look the same, goddamn it! Whoever built this place should have put some type of direction instead of pure white tile walls. Ah, shut it, Corman. Your friend is in trouble, so pick up the damn pace. And he picked up the pace to the point of being almost superhuman. Being a former Spriggan and all. The training was especially brutal. Cory couldn't help but think about what Uni got himself into this time.
Was it mercenaries from the Trident Corporation? They do have the resources and manpower necessary to launch raids in the past to get OOPArts to turn into weapons. Did the SCP Foundation find an OOPArt? If they did, then the machiner platoon would be here first because they're basically on their turf. But they're more of the explosive entrance type with a higher body count.
ATHENA Corp? Omega Company is highly trained in infiltration, just like the Special Operations Group, but they are more focused on guarding Athena's property than searching for artifacts or ruins. Hell, they mostly steer clear of that type of business. Ugh, there are so many secret organizations or terrorist groups that it started to give him a very bad headache. He should've listened to his gut when he had the chance, or better yet, take a good look at the contract they've given him.
He was brought out of his thoughts when he caught sight of what would be described as a massacre.
Bodies. Bodies everywhere. Littering across the facility corridors, slouching lifelessly against the walls, or sprawled in a fetal position, they died like dolls with no strings attached. However, something was not right with this picture. Walking up to one of the bodies, Cory began carefully examining it.
No entry wounds. So it wasn't weapon fire. There was no laceration or tearing of the skin. Ah, this is interesting. Cory's eyes narrowed upon the dark purple bruising on the skin. Making him conclude that this guy's vertebral basilar arteries were severed by a full flexion. He then went to the second corpse, checking his neck. Same thing. A third body. The same. This means whoever killed all these men did it by snapping their necks without being seen, which was impossible. And by examining the way they died, none of them were able to get out a single shot.
"Could you hurry?"
"Oh right,"
Without a second thought, Cory quickly took the dead security guard's tactical vest and his P90 submachine gun, checking they were fully loaded first. He then moved to the room where Uni was. Cautiously, he moved through the facility, keeping P90's sights clear of any target that decided to come out in the open and checking his corners, as he was trained to do in Ghost Recon. Some years later, the new president decided to transfer him to ARCAM's private army as a way to cool relations between the United States of America and the ARCAM Corporation. Adding to that, he also remembered what his training mentor, Bowmen, at ARCAM, had taught him all those years ago.
Stay aware of your surroundings, act accordingly, keep cool under pressure, and most of all, do what you think is right.
Those are the tenets that were instilled in him back at ARCAM until the day he died.
Turning around the corner, he could see Uni ahead of him with his back turned toward him. Not wanting to be caught in an ambush, Cory raised his weapon at the ready. The smell of smoke filled both his nostrils. Cautiously moving closer to Uni, then stopping just before entering the next room. The fire and smoke obscured his line of sight a bit.
"What happened here? What happened to the guards in the hallway?"
"I would turn around to greet you properly, but I need to keep my eye on this SCP."
"Why?" Cory asked
"If I stop looking at it, he'll move in to kill me and then you."
He raised a single eyebrow, wondering what he meant by that. Curious about what his best friend was staring at, he turned his head and was a bit surprised, to say the least. What Uni was struggling to keep his eyes on was one of the ugliest sculptures he had ever seen. The thing had its hands outstretched like it wanted to give someone a hug, but the concrete art piece was frozen in place for eternity. However, the fire in the lab gave it a menacing appearance. And past experience of retrieving from OOPArts is telling him that this sculpture is no normal art piece because looks can be deceiving.
Pressing on a special feature on his goggles to get a closer inspection, without getting close, he could see tiny splashes of blood invisible to the naked eye on its hands. Confirming his worst fears. His combat instincts had gone through the roof, and fear began to set in. He brought his weapon back up, aiming it at the statue.
"Oh jeez, Uni, what the hell did you get yourself into this time?" Cory muttered.
Ignoring the question, Uni tried to remain calm as he spoke, "This is way beyond your clearance, Cory, but I need your help with this."
"Alright, what can I do?"
"Well, you can start by looking at this SCP and never taking your eyes off it."
"This doesn't sound good."
"Of course, it doesn't sound good!" Uni replied rhetorically.
Cory cringed a bit before asking, "So what is that thing?"
"This is SCP-173 'The Sculpture'," Uni said, and out of nowhere, Cory blocked his sight.
"That doesn't sound dangerous."
"Don't break my line of sight!" He cried out as he shoved him out of the way, only for the sculpture to be nowhere to be seen.
"It's moved," Uni said, now terrified as he desperately tried to find the SCP again before it could strike.
"Holy shit!" Cory exclaimed in shock. He turned his head to where the sculpture was once standing before looking back at the thing, still not believing in what he was seeing. "How did it get over there?"
"Because you stood in front of me," Uni answered as he stumbled backward, hitting a nearby table before continuing. "So stop distracting me."
"So what should I do?" Cory asked, not wanting to die from an ugly sculpture.
"Go to the computer and initiate the lockdown procedure."
Keeping an eye on the SCP Cory hastily went to a nearby computer on the desk. Luckily, it was already turned on. Unfortunately, it needed a security code to get on. "Uni! What's the code?" he called out.
"47865713."
Cory typed the code onto the computer and then pressed enter, allowing him to interact with the computer properly to initiate the lockdown so that things wouldn't escape. When he was about to activate the procedure, the computer suddenly froze as a window appeared in the center of the screen, revealing a man dressed as a scientist wielding a chainsaw cannon and splitting a foundation insignia in a very rude gesture before flipping at him with its middle finger while laughing hysterically at him. Cory was taken back to this display as big, bright letters appeared saying, "The bright family sends their regards!" before freezing the entire screen.
"Ah, Uni I think we have a problem."
"WHAT!"
"It just stopped working!"
"What did you do?"
Cory stared at his friend, shocked that he would blame him for what was happening around them. "I didn't do anything." Cory paused for a second. "Hey, wait a second, aren't you supposed to be looking at that thing?" Cory reminded him.
Uni looked up from the computer upon realizing what he had just done. "Ah, crap," he whispered, his body trembling in terror as he turned around to see the sculpture, which was nowhere to be seen. It was only when the two heard the sound of a scraping concert against the ground that they turned around again in the opposite direction to see the sculpture now standing in the corner, getting too close for comfort. Way too close for comfort. They could see its hideous face mere meters from them.
"This is bad." Uni blurted out, saying his thoughts out loud as he began to back up.
"Okay," Cory whispered, keeping as calm as possible and trying to come up with a plan to get them out of this sticky situation as he glanced at his friend for a short second. "Let`s back away from this SCP, whatever the fuck you called it, carefully. Close this thing from the other side, and then get the guards from the security room I was just in as fast as we could. Does that sound like a solid plan?"
Uni was surprised at how calm his friend was, but nodded. "No argument here," he said.
Not wanting to get killed, the two human beings slowly headed toward the door, all the while keeping their eyes directly on the SCP without blinking or knowing if they did. Then it would be a one-way ticket to the grave. Cory took quick, deep breaths to calm his anxiety and fear, knowing that it would do nothing but make the situation much worse than it was already at the moment. His friend Uni, on the other hand, was doing the opposite because he was literally freaking out and peeing his pants in the process. As for the sculpture, it was just standing there, waiting patiently for any one of them to blink their eyes, except it couldn't. Although Cory didn't know it, the sculpture must be wailing in anger that his prey was escaping from clutches, but that was wishful thinking, and he knows it.
The atmosphere in the room was so tense that he could cut it with a knife.
It was only when they reached outside the room that the two of them decided to act. At the same time, without a second thought, both Uni and Cory quickly closed the doors to the lab. Taking off his belt to tie the two door knobs together Trapping the sculptor in the process. However, without anybody watching SCP 123, the sculpture began to move freely once again. Slamming its concert body into the door frame, only for Cory and Uni to brace against it The younger man gritted his teeth tightly as he braced against the door when the fucker slammed into it again, leaving a sculpture-sized dent. Scaring the ever-living shit out of him. Causing him to take a big step back for a short second.
Out of all the crazy things he has seen throughout his life, this must take the cake. Literally!
This is the exact reason he left ARCAM, so he won't be dealing with anonymous bullshit like this on a daily basis!
He cursed under his breath as again the SCP slammed itself into the door for perhaps the third time as he turned to the terrified scientist, angry and feeling betrayed that his friend told him, "Uni, if we somehow survive this horror bullshit, you got some major explaining to do!" Cory yelled at his friend, who looked pale as a ghost.
"I would take that into consideration!" he replied. Just before the door finally gave way, sending the two of them flying
Landing with a thud, Cory groaned in pain as he rubbed the back of his head before snapping his eyes open, his expression turning to horror as the sculpture was just behind Uni, and he quickly got right up. "Uni!" He cried out.
"Oh no, no, no!"
All of a sudden, all of the lights shut down, covering the entire area in pitch-black darkness. Only for the loud cracks of his P90 that illuminated the surrounding area in seconds. Revealing the sculpture's movements like an old 19th-century photo film. He appeared out of the darkness each time he fired at it. Aiming carefully to not hit his friend by accident. Bullets are chipping away at its concert skin. Doing little more than pissing it off and doing little damage. For the first time in his life, he was beginning to feel afraid, not only for his life but for his friends as well.
Time began to slow down as his heart pounded rapidly inside his chest, his breathing became heavy, his brain sent instructions to muscles throughout his body, and his eyes turned scarlet red. Memories from his past that he attempted to keep hidden returned to him. He used to be merely a five-digit number with no name. A weapon designed just to kill or be killed. And only to murder when directed. Something flicked in the depths of his subconscious. Even though he couldn't see it, he could feel it. And in those few seconds, Cory executed a spinning kick by twisting his hips, striking the sculpture in its potentially left face, preventing it from killing him. His heel penetrates deep into its concert skin, crashing into the steel wall that resonates throughout the corridors, followed by an elbow that embeds it even deeper. Before launching a flurry of punches at the creature that would murder the two of them without mercy or remorse, he continued to pummel it. He didn't pause for a single second between punches.
Ignoring the pain of flesh breaking in his knuckles, he could feel blood flowing out of his hands. Cory continued to unleash blows as if possessed. Unfortunately, without the armored muscle suit he used when he was with ARCAM, it became more difficult and unpleasant. It was excruciatingly painful. However, microscopic fractures began to emerge all over its body shortly after. Bits and bits slip away from its main body, and the sculpture does nothing except remain entrenched in the facility's wall.
For the first time in SCP-173's existence, the sculpture was now feeling what it was like to be an underdog as a single foreign emotion. Fear.
Just as he was about to deliver another punch to turn the thing into dust, the emergency lights came back on. Hitting nothing but a large dent and pieces of concert. Seeing that the threat had escaped, his crimson eyes quickly subsided as he hastily turned around to see a scared but otherwise unharmed Uni who was standing there as if he were on death row. However, Uni's back was turned toward him again, panicking that the thing that almost killed him had escaped.
"This is bad! This is very bad!" Uni panicked
"What is—wait, where's that ugly guy?" Cory asked
Uni looked directly into Cory's eyes and said, "Cory, did you clo- HOLY MOTHER OF GOD WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR KNUCLES!" Uni screamed out as he noticed Cory's bloodied fists.
Looking down at his knuckles, Cory saw they were bruised, bloody fists swelling around the fractured skin, before looking up at a shocked Uni and simply saying in a shaking voice, "I hit it. Very, very, hard," he answered, trying to hide the pain in his voice. His friend gave him a confounded look. Not believing that it was a group of people who decided to punch SCP-173. To be honest, it was completely unheard of. Idiotic even. Something that only the famous Doctor Bright would do (and fail at).
Shaking out of his stupor Uni quickly tore a piece of his scientist coat to use as an improvised bandage to wrap around the knuckles to stop the bleeding. Once he finished binding the wound Uni looked up at Cory again "Okay, done; know Cory. As I was saying a minute ago, did you close the door to the security room?"
He froze for a second before giving his answer. "Oh shit."
Death.
All the security guards were dead.
Throughout the corridors of the facility, the two encountered more bodies from another security team. Their necks snapped to the point that it was only their skin that was keeping their heads from falling off their shoulders. That's what he saw, but it was when the two of them arrived at the facility's security room that he truly saw the damage it could cause. There were once over a couple of dozen alive security guards who were standing guard and were replaced by lifeless corpses ready for the morgue. And Uni knows the only person he could blame.
"CORY!"
"Hey! How should I know about the neck-snapping killer sculpture that would go past here?" Cory refuted.
That didn't ease the scientist's panic in the slightest, as he turned back to the massacre. "This is the bulk of our security team still gone, which means we're all defenseless."
"I am so going to get sick of this shit." He murmured
"You gonna be sick?! I might lose my job over this!" Uni exclaimed. "I guess I could just blame you," he thought out loud.
"HEY!"
He raised his arms in surrender. "I'm just talking out loud." He pointed it out.
Groaning a bit, he checked how much ammo he had left for his P90 and sighed. Even though he wasted an entire clip on that thing, leaving him with only seven clips. "I need more ammo than what I found on the security guards," Cory muttered to himself before turning to his friend. "Hey Uni, you know where's the flashlight, or better yet, the armory?" And a couple of painkillers while he's at it. He could already feel the pain pulsating from his knuckles as the adrenaline started to subside.
"I'm not giving you a gun; hell, you're not supposed to have one."
Cory gave his friend a look of disbelief, not believing what his friend, his best friend, had just said to him: "Really, Uni! You know I served in the US military and then applied to special forces after leaving college, right?" He asked," Six tours of duty. Three of them are in Afghanistan. I know how to handle a gun."
"Okay, okay, I'll let you keep it, but don't hurt yourself."
"You think I might shoot myself by accident?"
"Yes."
The answer made Cory glare at Uni for not putting much faith in him, then shrug it off since there was a bigger elephant in the room, and when he meant bigger, what he actually meant was the massive life-or-death situation they were in. "Okay, real talk, Uni, there's more of these things in here that aren't there."
He nodded. "Of course there is; it's SCP-173. There's plenty more."
Cory slapped his forehead, letting out a deep, rattling sigh. "Oh geez."
"What did you think this place was?"
He turned away from Uni, not wanting to look at him in a way that was described as embarrassment and a bit of shame. "I thought it was a pizza place." He mumbled through his teeth.
Uni rolled his eyes just like Cory. Thinking on his stomach rather than his brain. "Oh dear, I'm so going to get fired showing all this; you barely have a level zero clearance," Uni groaned out.
"But that doesn't mean I'm not up to the task. I'll get that flashlight, and I'll hunt down that monster. These men didn't die for nothing." Cory knew it wouldn't help the situation they were in, but he put the flashlight part as a joke to lighten the mood a little, but, sad to say, Uni didn't get the joke.
"I'm pretty sure they did." Uni deadpanned.
"Okay, can you at least show me where the flashlights are?"
"Yes, there, through this way. Follow me."
"Okay," Cory muttered under his breath, giving one last look at the carnage the sculpture had brought.
His mind began to wonder what he got himself into this time. Then he remembered the conversation about the offer Mitchel had given him in the car a few hours ago and immediately regretted not taking it when he had the chance. He followed his friend deeper into the facility, unaware of all of the horrors that were yet to come.
This story is inspired by "A Ghost in Roanapur" but this time is more different since I am writing a connected universe however, the hard part is putting them all together in a way that could be described as different. However, I'm kinda doing a couple of changes but this is a first for me, in the SCP universe with SPRIGGAN/ Ghost Recon/Clancy-verse! Take it easy on me okay? I have not abandoned my other stories for this one.
I hope I got Cory's characterization right for this story. I decided to keep his extremely friendly and extroverted personality but it would be used to mask the experienced soldier/ Special Operator/SPRIGGAN/ ex-COSMOS test subject despite being immersed in the blood and mud he still kept some of his morality, thanks to a group of unlikely group soldiers.
Also, remember the other incident with a SCP-4498 well it would seem that the foundation missed one when Bright fixed it.
Anyway's Micelzod ghosting out.