Chapter Text
The Prompt: Can you do SCP-1678-A x D-class reader?
The Response:
You didn’t do it. You didn’t fucking do it! That’s what you’ve told everyone, but no one listens! Maybe they think you’re lying- you’re not.
Okay. You’re lying. But you did it for them! That stupid corporation was going to throw out all those books- it wasn’t stealing if they were throwing it away! All you did was give them back to the community, and then some bitch reported you to the cops, and god, you just don’t understand. You did nothing wrong, and you tried to resist arrest, and…
And now you’re here. In a fucking box, who knows how deep underground. That stupid SCP Foundation. The prison just let them take you- it wasn’t like you had a family, but they just sold you to this shadowy bullshit agency, and now you’re part of ‘an experiment’ and god damnit you just want to go home.
… it’s really dark down here.
You sniffle; it’s a really gross, wet sound, ‘cause it’s kinda cold down here, and you get sick easily when you’re fuckin’ stressed.
You stand up, taking the initiative. There’s a headset in your ear, and some scientist is telling you something or another. But honestly? You don’t care. You’re not stupid: you know you aren’t coming out of here, and that’s the only ‘incentive’ they have to control you. With a flick, you take the headset out, and toss it away. The scientist squawks loudly, even being crushed underfoot.
There’s sound to the left. You turn, and walk towards the right, following the lights on the street. You’d always kinda like the whole ‘Victorian’ era vibe, and here you were, in an underground Victorian city. Would’ve been nice if you weren’t about to fucking die.
“Halt, citizen,” a voice stated. Welp, there goes your plan of finding a nice, quiet place to die. You turn around anyway, curious, and that’s when you see it. Him? Tall dude, with bandages, dressed like a… cop. Old time cop. You blink.
“Hey,“ you greet. You want to say, I don’t want any trouble, but you’re kind‘ve about to cry, so. Love those panic attacks. You feel useless.
The Bobby (oh yeah, that’s what they’re called) pauses, “I noticed you were in… distress. Are you in need of assistance?”
Wow. Maybe you won’t be instantly murdered.
“Yea- yeah,” your voice cracks a little, “Yeah, that’d be nice.”
So you fall into step beside the man, and leave behind that damn world that left you to die. It’s better down here, anyway.