They kept me on the sixth floor of the Panopticon.
The word "panopticon" implies a prison with a guard tower in the center, but this one contained only objects. Well, except for me, of course.
Not much of a view. A concrete cube surrounded me on every side but the front. Through the ballistic glass I could only see more cells, and the Watch Tower with all its staircases. Sometimes glowing red human things flew up in the air or zoomed past my prison, but they didn't stop to talk...nor did they let me out.
In order to explain my sight, I have to explain the teddy bear.
Soft, plush, and brown around the edges. I can never really see the thing one hundred percent. Like the glass eyeball in Macbeth, it serves as my vision.
Why isn't it in the possession of a blind human? It tends to drip acid on anything touching it. My exoskeleton doesn't mind.
A whirring sound signaled the arrival of an automated dumbwaiter, laden with a tray of raw meat. The accompanying gurgle indicated sustaining water mixed with ammonia being pumped out of a machine into a concrete dog dish.
Cameras recorded my every move.
No visitors.
That didn't mean I had quiet.
The humans kept a pair of noisy...somethings in the neighboring cells.
To my right, a slow simple voice uttered endless streams of inanities:
"I love cheese and crackers!"
"My favorite letter is M!"
"Wow, I love going down to my room!"
"Donuts are a sometimes food."
Often times, it would sing, with full musical accompaniment.
To my left...the murmurer.
The thing sounded like a man under water attempting speech, or a toilet tank refilling. I could catch words and phrases, something mathematical, billing statements, something about a debt. I tended to stay on that side as much as possible, to avoid the obnoxious thing to my right.
The rear wall didn't seem to have anything behind it, but my cell didn't afford enough space to dampen the noise...anywhere.
Even when the things took a brief respite, for reasons unknown to me, I heard another thing, a sort of omnipresent whispering, like groups of humans talking together in low, inaudible tones. It should have driven me mad, but I remained in command of my senses.
At least for the present moment.
I ate my meal and drowsed.
Unusual noises and movement startled me to attention.
I stared as a hefty man with thinning gray hair slowly rolled a television in front of my cell. His rumpled tweed suit softly whispered with each step.
His pudgy hands pushed a button on a recorder, pressed the microphone to scarred lips. "Exposing Subject 5316219469 to Anomalous Object SCP 7003860. Object is safe, displaying no harmful or hazardous effects. I believe it may be of some entertainment value to the creature."
I waved. "Hello, Mr. Langston."
The man's baggy eyes widened in shock. "Creature is communicating to me."
He pressed the recorder up to the glass. "Hello, Subject 5316219469. I have a special program that might interest you. It is called `Hannigan.'"
"My name is Julie."
Fake laugh. He adjusted a peculiar box strapped to his torso, one resembling a stereo speaker. His sloppily tied, silken neck ornamentation became even looser. "Uh, yes. Sorry about my manners...Julie."
"Can I please see the Dancing Man?" I asked.
When that earned me a blank look, I added, "Casper...Darling?"
I got a genuine laugh this time. "Sorry, nobody knows where he's gone off to." Then, to himself, "Dancing man!"
"What is this program you wish to show me?"
"It's...interesting. Detective show. I'd prefer not to cloud the data by inserting my opinion."
He plugged in the TV.
The moment the screen lit up the front of my cell, something red lit up the corridor off to my right.
"Shit!" Langston glanced sideways in horror. "Shit shit shit!"
One of those flying creatures had shown up.
With eyes bulging in terror, he made a mad dash down the corridor to my left. The man could run surprisingly fast when he put his mind to it.
I didn't see him again for a very long time.