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Chapter Text

It was her last day of lockdown. They always put her in the same cell. The same uncomfortable bed. The same sink and toilet. The same ceiling, walls, and door. She knew it was the same because she could see the scratch marks she left on the walls. Her tallying the days that passed. Not that she had a clock. She was going by her meal schedule. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. The same meals. What she needed to survive. But it wasn’t what she wanted.

Her body, her soul craved to feel warm, bloody flesh between her teeth. Not just to satisfy her physical hunger, but spiritual as well. This hunger wouldn’t kill her, but it would make every second in this prison feel like eternity.

She was starving and they knew it. They’re doing this to break her. To make her compliant.

The cell door opens and standing there is Dr. Clawthorne. Behind her are two guards. “Hello, -5.” Amity is on the opposite side of the cell, sitting down while hugging her knees. The Doctor places a human heart on a tray a couple feet in front of her. She scrambles for it and wolfs it down, blood staining her mouth and hands.

“God I’m pathetic.” she thinks to herself. Acting like a starved animal.

Other Nälkä were able to fast for a whole month and she couldn’t even last two weeks? The heart filled her stomach, savoring the last bite.

“Are you done, -5?”

She looks at the Doctor and the two guards behind her.

She glares at her, but nods. She doesn’t have the strength in her to make a break for it. Not yet.

“Good.”

The Doctor moves out of the door and turns to the guards.

“Take her back to her room.”

The guards nod and move in.

“Get on your stomach and put your hands behind your back.”

She begrudgingly did what she was told. They clasped her hands in a tight brace and muzzled her. It was standard procedure. She stands up and begins to walk through the door. The Doctor watches, looking down at her. She feels so small.

Item #: SCP-9200

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: MTF Psi-9 ("Abyss Gazers") are to infiltrate SCP-9200 events and are to find and secure any and all weaponry distributed from Blight Industries. Raids are to be performed on warehouses belonging to any affiliates and/or distributors of Blight Industries weaponry. Any organic material originating from carnomancy¹ found in said raids must be incinerated.

Members of MTF Psi-13 (“Witch Hunters”) are to track down any member associated with Blight Industries and detain them for further questioning and containment. Termination orders are to be carried out if deemed necessary.

The whereabouts of SCP-9200-1 through -4 are currently unknown, while SCP-9200-5 is currently under Foundation custody.

SCP-9200-5 is to be given a basic humanoid anomaly containment cell containing bed, bathroom, closet, desk, along with basic commodities and entertainment (books upon request, TV, new clothing Since the only clothing SCP-9200-5 mainly wears is made from its own skin and other organic components, new clothing is not necessary unless requested.) Along with a regular humanoid containment meal plan, SCP-9200-5 is to, once a week, be given one human heart for consumption². SCP-9200-5 is allowed limited free roam of the site but must be accompanied by at least two on-site security personnel armed with shock batons. Update: See below. SCP-9200-5 is also to be fitted with a shock collar that will administer a non-lethal but incapacitating shock that can either be activated remotely or automatically if SCP-9200-5 attempts to escape and manages to leave within ten feet of site proximity.

Privileges are to be temporarily revoked if SCP-9200-5 displays hostility and will be placed in lockdown for two weeks.

Update: SCP-9200-5 is only allowed outside its containment cell for interviews and mandatory therapy sessions until further notice. All meals will be delivered to SCP-9200-5 until further notice. Guards assigned to SCP-9200-5 are now required to carry shock batons and incendiary pistols. Please see SCP-9200-5 Incident Log.

Note: “This is ridiculous. The two guards? Fine, I get it. But the shock collar is too much. She’s just a child! Not the second coming of Ion³.” - Dr. Bump

Re: “She’s a child whose skill at carnomancy was so great, it was enough to take out two MTF and can morph and transfigure multiple points on her body with the only thing limiting her being a low pain tolerance. Be lucky I was able to talk the containment specialists down. They wanted to put an explosive collar on her. The containment protocol stays as is.” - Dr. Clawthorne

Description: SCP-9200 is the group designation for the Blight family, a Neo-Sarkic⁴ cult and its accompanying business, BLIGHT Industries located in Gravesfield, Connecticut. SCP-9200 is responsible for the manufacturing and selling of Sarkic weaponry for most of North America and has been able to branch out worldwide due to connections with other groups of interests, most notably, Marshall, Carter and Dark Ltd. who have purchased and sold Sarkic anomalies and bioweaponry from SCP-9200 in the past.

Blight Family Members:

SCP-9200-1: Karcist Alador Blight: Risk level: High. Patriarch of the Blight Family. High tier carnomancer and thaumaturge. Is responsible for the creation of multiple Sarkic anomalies and bio-tech weaponry distributed by BLIGHT Industries. Makes occasional public appearances but mainly works behind the scenes.

SCP-9200-2: Karcist Odalia Blight: Risk Level: High. Matriarch of the Blight family. Is considered the ‘face.’ Is responsible for the selling and marketing of blight family products and forming connections with other powerful corporations and Sarkic cults. Low tier carnomancer but efficient thaumaturge. Makes frequent public appearances.

SCP-9200-3: Edric Blight: Risk Level: Medium. First son of the Blight family. Twin of SCP-9200-4. Skilled carnomancer. Possesses high tier body transfiguration abilities and is able to transform and morph any part of its body, usually in the form of different animal species. Transformations recorded include, horns resembling those on elk, bulls, and rams; lupine jaws, cephalopod-like tendrils, immediate bipedal to quadrupedal body conversion and movement, ability to grow wings and gills, and ability to produce multiple limbs at once. Recommend using heavy corrosive and incendiary weapons. Unable to produce independent flesh constructs and possesses average healing abilities for a Sarkite. Rarely makes public appearances.

SCP-9200-4: Emira Blight: Risk Level: Medium. First daughter of the Blight family. Twin of SCP-9200-3. Skilled carnomancer. Possesses healing abilities rivaling those of a Karcist. SCP-9200-4 is able to quickly regenerate severed limbs, instantly heal wounds, slow blood flow for reduced blood loss, heal broken bones instantly, and possesses a high pain tolerance. One witness claimed to have seen SCP-9200-4 be decapitated but simply walked over to its severed head and reattached it. Full cellular destruction would be needed to combat abilities. Unable to create independent flesh constructs and cannot perform drastic body transfiguration besides rapid healing. Recommend using heavy corrosive weapons. Rarely makes public appearances.

SCP-9200-5: Amity Blight: Risk Level: High medium. Second daughter of the Blight family. A highly skilled carnomancer, despite her age. Has made numerous public appearances at Blight showcases and events. Update: For more in-depth details please see Extended SCP-9200-5 file.

The family is associated with multiple other Neo-Sarkic cults, including Adytum’s Wake, The Hunter’s Black Lodge, The Throne of the Worm, and other affluent Neo-Sarkic families. It is believed that these groups have purchased BLIGHT Industries products and have used them in the furthering of their goals.

Bio-weaponry produced by BLIGHT Industries include:

Abomiton: Humanoid, flesh constructs, bio mechanical in nature. Constructs display a similar appearance to SK-BIO Type 001 entities⁵. Said humanoids are stronger, more durable, and faster than average Sarkic flesh constructs of similar nature. Possesses two large vials filled with a powerful steroid on its back. These vials can pump the steroid into the flesh constructs at varying intervals and quantities. This steroid will raise the aggression and strength of the construct to the needs of the one who controls it. This steroid was seemingly purchased from The Hunter’s Black Lodge, an anomalous criminal organization with ties to Neo-Sarkicism. Are marketed as security and protection.

Abomibombs: Bioengineered explosives that, when activated and allowed to go off, will infect those within blast zone proximity with multiple deadly diseases. The diseases produced by these explosives rapidly progress, resulting in the fatal stages of infection within 30 seconds. Diseases found include malaria, tuberculosis, measles, multiple prion diseases and strains of SCP-610. Is marketed to criminal organizations and militia groups.

Bonecrafter: At first glance it resembles an ordinary syringe gun used for medical practices, but is composed of multiple organic substances, most notably bone. It is paired with and can be used to administer an organic solution. When injected into the body, the solution will begin to physically distort the injection area, most notably with rapid bone growth, causing immense pain and immobility. Is marketed as an interrogation or torture tool.

Mission Log:

Date: 07/29/2022

MTF Psi-9 ("Abyss Gazers") Agents: Commander Alpha, Agent Beta, Agent Gamma, Agent Epsilon, Agent Zeta

Mission objective: Termination of SCP-9200-1 and -2. Capture of SCP-9200-3, -4, and -5.

MTF Psi-13 (“Witch Hunters”) are to be on standby incase of escalation armed with pistols with incendiary ammo and mini explosives to take out any hostiles

[Abyss Gazers arrive at the Blight Manor at 9:23 p.m. They walk up to the door and display a sigil representing invitations to the doorman. The doorman nods and opens the door to reveal a massive room filled with up to 150 people. Some are in expensive suits while others are wearing ceremonial robes. Some individuals appear relatively human while others have heavy physical outliers. Outliers include extra limbs, abnormal proportions, and extra facial features including extra eyes and extra mouths. Classical music is heard playing.]

[The group scans the room, searching for the targets. -2 is seen speaking to a man in a red suit. -5 is seen next to her, looking uninterested. -3 and -4 are seen on the opposite side of the room, barely interacting with anyone. -1 is nowhere to be seen.]

Alpha: All right, fan out. Gamma and Beta. You take the twins. Epsilon, you do a sweep of this floor. Look for any possible exits. I want us to be able to get out of here quickly if something goes wrong. Also see if you can get access lights. We’ll want the dark on our side for a quick getaway. Zeta. I’ll separate -2 and -5 and you can take -5. I’ll eliminate -2. But before that I’ll chat her up for any interesting info and about where her husband is.

Zeta: “Off chance he’s not even here?”

Alpha: “4 outta 5 ain’t bad. Alright. Break.”

[The group fans out.]

[Alpha heads to -2.]

SCP-9200-2: “Oh I’m so glad you could make it! We have a lot of products to show that I just know you will enjoy. Isn’t that right dear?"

SCP-9200-5: “Mmh-mmm.”

Red-suited Man: “I’m looking forward to it. Your products have been very beneficial for us. Top flesh-crafting. Very nice.”

SCP-9200-2: “Splendid! I hope you enjoy the rest of the evening.”

[The man in the red suit leaves. Alpha nonchalantly moves in.]

Alpha: “Quite the gathering you have today.”

SCP-9200-2: “Oh yes, but expected. People tend to desire the best of the best and we make sure we are that best. Isn’t that right, Mittens?”

SCP-9200-5: “Yes, Mother.”

Alpha: “I can see that. I was wondering what kind of things we can expect to see tonight.”

SCP-9200-2: “Oh I wouldn’t want to spoil anything.”

Alpha: “Of course, of course.”

Alpha: “I’m curious, though. I haven’t seen your husband anywhere. I’d assume he’d be present.”

SCP-9200-2: “Oh Alador is with some of our manufacturers upstate. I swear that man is a workaholic. But I suppose so am I.

[SCP-9200-2 gives a haughty laugh.]

Alpha: “Oh that’s such a shame. I was looking forward to meeting him. I was hoping to discuss some potential business ventures and maybe get some insight on his inventions.”

[SCP-9200-2 sniffs the air. It looks like it’s made a discovery.]

SCP-9200-2: “Mittens. Can you go mingle? I’d like to continue my conversation with Ms…?

Alpha: “Harriet. Harriet Rouge⁶. I’m sure you’ve heard of my family?”

SCP-9200-2: Oh of course. Mittens mind giving us some privacy?”

SCP-9200-5: “Yes, mother.”

[SCP-9200-5 leaves and wanders into the crowd.]

[Meanwhile, Agents Beta and Gamma are making their way to SCP-9200-3 and -4.]

[Suddenly, SCP-9200-3 and -4 start to walk away from the party. The two are seen walking and exiting the party through a door near the back. Beta gives a nod to Gamma and both follow.]

[Gamma and Beta make their way through the door which opens to a long hallway. The walls are covered in an indigo wallpaper displaying intricate symbols. The walls also display multiple portraits showing SCP-9200 family members. As the two move further down the hall, they begin to portraits depicting Sarkic religious figures, most notably Grand Karcist Ion. The hallway contains many doors but only one of them stands ajar.]

[The two agents are cautious and proceed through. The door opens to a staircase leading to a large underground space, having a similar appearance to Sarkic temples. Sarkic symbols blanket the walls which appear to be bio organic in nature, having a similar appearance to bone.]

[The two agents pass by multiple “pods” lining the walls, with each pod containing a large Sarkic flesh construct, heavily modified with machinery. The pods are bio-organic in nature and the constructs have a large tube attached to the back of their necks, presumed to be providing sustenance. The constructs are still and are assumed unconscious.”

Beta: “This is definitely a trap, right?”

Gamma: “You’re just now thinking that? My hand hasn’t left my sidearm since I saw the portrait of Ion covered in blood.”

Beta: “Stay on guard. Remember. We’re supposed to take the kids alive so non-lethal take downs only.”

Gamma: “Yeah, yeah.”

[Gamma holsters his pistol and switches to his stun gun.]

[The two turn a corner but quickly become cautious as they see -4 standing with its back turn.]

Beta, whispering: “Get ready.”

[Beta moves slowly towards -4, readying his taser. He is suddenly struck and knocked backwards several feet. He quickly stands up to see -3, who is now holding a struggling Gamma in the air with a long, cephalopod-like tendril by his neck. Gamma has dropped his stun gun.]

SCP-9200-4: “Told you they’d follow.”

SCP-9200-3: “Didn’t expect them to be that stupid.”

SCP-9200-4: “They’re like lemmings. Instantly walking towards death.”

SCP-9200-3: “That’s actually a common misconception. Lemmings aren’t suicidal.”

SCP-9200-4: “Oh shut up and help me with my guy.”

[-4 raises its arm to its right where -3’s jaw distorts, grows, and extends into a jaw resembling a wolf’s maw. It then bites down on -4’s wrist, leaving a sharp, splintered bone. -3’s jaw returns to its normal state afterwards.]

[-4 lunges at Beta with its splintered arm. Beta is able to avoid being stabbed by dodging and grabbing the arm, putting -4 into a hold and pinning it down.]

[-4 then dislocates its shoulder and positions its arm so that it stabs into Beta’s shoulder, causing severe pain.]

Beta: “Shit!”

[-4 then leaps upon Beta and proceeds to stab his arm, shoulder, and face with its broken limb.]

Beta: “Get off!”

[Beta is able to grab on to the arm and slam -4 into a wall, hard. A snapping sound is heard. It is shown that -4’s neck has snapped into two places, however, this seems to hardly deter it as it simply stands up and snaps its neck back into place. Beta takes out his survival knife and lunges towards -4.]

[Simultaneously. Gamma is being manhandled by -3, using its cephalopod-like arm to slam Gamma onto the ground. Gamma takes out his combat knife and severs the arm before landing on the ground and tackling -3.]

[-3’s body shifts to be more serpentine, wrapping Gamma and attempting to constrict and crush him. Gamma is able to grab his dropped stun gun and shock -3’s skin, causing it to let him go.]

[Gamma pulls out his pistol and shoots two rounds into -3’s lower abdomen. It drops to its knees in pain, but quickly recovers and transfigures its body to be quadrupedal and having ram horns. It rushes Gamma, with Gamma continuing to fire rounds into -3, slowing it down but not enough to deter it. It rams Gamma in the stomach hard enough to send him flying. The sound of bones snapping is heard.]

[Beta is able to land several deep cuts into -4’s stomach, partially disemboweling it. Beta takes out his pistol to aim at -4, but hears Gamma moan in pain.]

[Beta turns to see his ally on the ground, with multiple injuries. -3 is seen moving towards Gamma, its body shifting back to bipedal. Beta aims his pistol at -3 but is attacked from behind by -4 who strangles Beta with what appears to be its own intestines.]

[He struggles against it until -3 quickly runs to Beta, leaps, and strikes Beta’s head with its hand transfigured into a horse's hoof. Beta is slammed into the wall, apparently making him unconscious.]

[-3 stands over Beta and offers a hand to -4]

SCP-9200-4: “I could’ve handled it.”

SCP-9200-3: “Your guts are hanging out.”

[-4 looks down. It then quickly heals its stomach injury with its intestines either dropping to the floor or receding back into its body. It appears to have healed its hand as well]

SCP-9200-4: “Now they’re not.”

SCP-9200-3: “Don’t think mom is going to be happy about this.”

SCP-9200-4: “Oh contraire brother, I think she’ll enjoy this.”

SCP-9200-3: “What makes you think that?”

[-4 smiles.]

…

SCP-9200-3: “So are you going to tell me or…?”

SCP-9200-4, annoyed: “I’m trying to build tension, Ed!”

[Alpha is talking to -2. She receives a message from Epsilon through her hidden communicator.]

Alpha: “Will you excuse me for one moment?”

SCP-9200-2: “Oh of course. Don’t take too much time though. There’s still some things I would just love to discuss with you, dear.”

[Alpha moves to a secluded spot.]

Alpha: “Talk to me.”

Epsilon: “Some bad news good news. Good news: Floors mapped out. We should be able to make a quick getaway if we play it smoothly.”

Alpha: “Bad news?”

Epsilon: “I’ve been trying to get into contact with Beta and Gamma and they’re not answering. Last time I had my eyes on them, they were following the twins.”

Alpha: “Thinking they got ambushed?”

Epsilon: “Not sure. We might have to speed this up if that’s the case.”

Alpha: “Lemme get an update on Zeta first.”

Alpha: “Zeta. Status?”

Zeta: “Following -5. Gonna try to get her alone.”

Alpha: “Try to hurry. Beta and Gamma aren’t answering their coms. We’re thinking they might’ve got ambushed. I’m gonna try to take out-.”

[Alpha sees -3 talking to -2. -2 nods its head and looks out to the crowd.]

SCP-9200-2: “Excuse me everyone! Excuse me! The showcase is starting. Please follow me.”

Alpha: “Shit.”

Zeta: “What’s the plan?”

Alpha: “Epsilon, got access to the lights?”

Epsilon: “Got some new fancy tech. Can shut em off remotely if needed. Are we going dark?”

Alpha: “Not yet. I wanna see what they’re going to do. Be on standby.”

[-2 walks over to Alpha.]

SCP-9200-2: “Come along dear. Trust me, you don’t want to miss this.”

[-2 smiles and walks off.]

Alpha: “Move out. Zeta keep eyes on -5.”

Zeta: “Yes ma’am.”

[The crowd moves into an adjoining room. The classical music starts to peter out, being replaced with what sounds like a dull, droning sound. The room contains a large pit in the center. Handrails line the upper sides of the pit, allowing the crowd to gather around safely. The lights in the room start to dim. -2 is seen at a platform near the upper rim of the pit. -5 is seen near her. Alpha makes her way to -2.]

SCP-9200-2: “Ladies and gentlemen. We at BLIGHT Industries thank you for coming tonight. We have quite the showcase for you. Normally I would prattle on about our history and our influence, but I know that’s not what you want to hear or see. You want to see our products. Actions speak louder than words and all that.”

[A trapdoor opens on one side of the pit. A large, Sarkic flesh construct begins to rise from the opening. Excitement is heard from the crowd.]

SCP-9200-2: “This is our latest product. The Abomiton 2.0. Now much stronger, faster, and deadlier than our previous model. Don’t believe me? Let me show you what it can do. I have the perfect test subjects.”

[-5 looks to -2, looking confused. -5 says something to -2 but is simply patted on the head and is instructed to watch.]

Alpha: “Epsilon, get ready to hit the lights. I have a bad feeling about this.”

[A trapdoor on the opposite side of the pit opens. Slowly rising out are agents Beta and Gamma, stripped nude with their hands bound.]

Alpha: “Epsilon hit the-!”

[Alpha is grabbed by her neck and thrown into the pit. She looks up to see -3 with its cephalopod-like arm smiling back at her.]

SCP-9200-2, cheerily: “Ladies and gentlemen we appear to have some party crashers. I knew they smelt wrong. Not to worry though. They’ll be our volunteers. Abomiton. Rip them apart!”

[The flesh construct raises arms above its head and roars. It quickly moves towards the three agents.]

[Epsilon attempts to shut off the lights in the room, but is accosted by -3 who has shifted into an appearance similar to a large wolf.]

[Agent Zeta activates a distress signal, signaling MTF Witch Hunters agents to move out. She pulls out her sidearm and fires two rounds into the air. The crowd becomes rattled and begins to scatter as Zeta makes her way to -2. Before she can get to -2, she feels a sharp pain on her side. She turns to reveal -4 wielding a BLIGHT Industries “Bonecrafter.” Bone begins to grow out of Zeta’s side, causing immense pain. Zeta shoots -4 in the chest twice, stunning it. The bone growth begins to slow, but Zeta now has a large chunk of bone protruding out of her.]

[Meanwhile, Alpha moves to her fellow agents to try and help them remove their bindings. She is tossed aside by the flesh construct, being thrown into a wall. The flesh construct grabs Beta by his torso, opens its mouth revealing rows of needle-like teeth. Alpha shoots two incendiary rounds into the constructs side which slightly deters it, but it does not let go of Beta. It bites down on Beta, completely severing his head from his body. The construct drops Beta’s still twitching corpse onto the ground and turns to Gamma who is trying to run.]

[The construct reaches for Gamma, but is incapacitated by Alpha who shoots multiple incendiary rounds into the back of its head. The construct leans on the side of the pit to recuperate. Alpha is able to reach Gamma and remove his bindings. The two look at the construct and then to each other. Both nod and sprint to the construct, climbing onto its back. The construct attempts to shake them off, but Alpha and Gamma use the construct's added height to leap out of the pit, barely reaching the handrails. Alpha is able to climb out but Gamma is quickly pulled back in by the construct. Alpha shoots at the construct but it is too late. The construct grabs both ends of Gamma, and rips him apart in one go. Alpha curses the construct, but quickly grounds herself and moves towards -2 and -5.]

[It is at this point MTF Psi-13 (“Witch Hunters”) breaches the manor. Multiple party goers run past the agents in a panic, while other party goers have undergone body transfiguration to attack multiple agents. The agents use heavy arms to eliminate the transfigured party goers with minimal loss to the agents. The agents make their way to the back room, encountering more hostiles.]

[Alpha runs after -2. She is accosted by -5]

SCP-9200-5: “Take your friends who are still alive and leave. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Alpha: “I don’t want to hurt you either, kid. But this whole operation ends tonight!”

[-5 sighs and transfigures its arms into two large tendrils. It swipes at her, barely missing. Alpha bull rush -5 and tackles her. Alpha runs towards -2 who moves to a far wall.]

Alpha, aiming her pistol: “On your knees. If you comply, I guarantee your children won't be harmed.”

SCP-9200-2: “Oh dear. You act like you’re the one in control here.”

[The side of Alpha is stabbed by -5 who appears to have transfigured her hand into a stabbing implement.]

SCP-9200-2: “Good job, Mittens! When you and your siblings are through with this riff raff, meet me in the tunnels⁷.

[-2 opens a hidden panel on the wall, revealing a keypad. It punches in a series of numbers which opens a secret passage. She moves through the passage and descends down a flight of stairs into the darkness.]

[Agent Epsilon and Agent Zeta are seen still dealing with -3 and -4. -4 is shot multiple times by Zeta, still holding onto her transfigured side, while Epsilon appears to have obtained heavy injuries by -3. -3 holds onto Epsilon with its transfigured wolf jaws and, in one go, bites down and rips a large section of Epsilon’s torso. Epsilon expires.]

[-4 appears to hear MTF Psi-13 (“Witch Hunters”) approaching the backroom and runs towards the hidden passage, signaling -3 along the way. -3 moves towards the passage, while -5 is still preoccupied with Agent Alpha.]

[-3 and -4 appear to wait for -5, but are goaded by -5 to leave without it so it can buy them some time. -3 and -4 protests but acquiesce and leave as Witch Hunters arrive.]

[Agent Zeta attempts to go and help Alpha who has been lifted into the air by -5. -5 sees the agents of Witch Hunters and tosses Alpha towards them. It then rushes the group, transfiguring other parts of its body (multiple tendrils growing on its back, large claws potruding from its hands, a larger maw with sharp teeth). This appears to cause it a fair amount of pain but still attacks the agents, tossing multiple agents into the pit towards the construct and ripping other agents apart with its extra limbs. It is fired upon and sustains injuries but is able to regenerate.]

[Agent Zeta moves towards -5 with a heavy sedative but is grabbed by -5. It wraps its tendril around Zeta’s arm and crushes and tears it off. Zeta screams in anguish and drops the syringe and falls to the ground.]

[-5 turns to look for other hostiles. Zeta grabs the sedative with her other arm and, with her remaining strength, agent Zeta is able to administer the heavy sedative into -5 before falling unconscious due to her injuries.]

[-5’s body begins to become sluggish, before eventually dropping to the ground.]

[-5 is captured and is detained for transit.]

[Remaining hostiles and flesh construct are terminated and incinerated with heavy incendiary and corrosive weapons.]

End of log.

Officially, the mission was a partial success. We were able to disrupt the event, take out some hostiles, secure some weapons, and capture one of our targets.

Unofficially, that psycho bitch and her family took out most of my team. Zeta is currently being fitted for a prosthetic because the brat ripped off her arm. I want this family and their business gone and if I see that nightmare child again, I’m using my strongest explosive on her.

-MTF Leader Alpha

Addendum 1: Extended SCP-9200-5 Biography:

Item #: SCP-9200-5
Birth Name: Amity Blight
DOB: 12/08/2007
Sex: Female
Age: 15 Years (As of Current Containment.) 14 Years (Initial Age at Acquisition.)

Biography: Child of Karcist Alador Blight and Karcist Odalia Blight. Was being groomed into being the future heir of Blight Industries and future Karcist of the Blight Neo-Sarkic cult. Displays advanced carnomancy abilities despite its young age. SCP-9200-5 is fluent in English, Russian, and a language presumed to be old Adytite. Displays a short temperament.

Abilities include:

• 
  Partial Body Transfiguration: Can morph the flesh and bone of its hands and arms. Can elongate arms, turn hands into stabbing implements, increase bone growth through its skin, allowing for offensive and defensive abilities; able to shoot sharpened bone fragments from its wrists, and can control its blood, being able to quickly liquefy and harden said blood for offensive and defensive abilities.
• 
  Flesh Construct Creation: Can create Sarkic flesh constructs showing similarities to SK-BIO Type 001 organisms, albeit smaller. Requires the use of deceased humans, with three humans for one construct.
• 
  Healing: Rapid healing factor. SCP-9200-5 possesses advanced regenerative abilities and can use these abilities to heal the injuries of others through contact between the injury and its blood. Incendiary weapons and explosives can slow this healing and potentially terminate SCP-9200-5.
• 
  Limited Necromancy: Can gain control of freshly deceased humans and/or animals. These resurrected corpses will deteriorate after five hours.
  SCP-9200-5 is to be closely monitored. It is to be occasionally interviewed of its past and information relating to the Blight family and its benefactors.

Initial Interview Log:

Interviewer: Dr. Lilith Clawthorne
Interviewee: SCP-9200-5

[Dr Clawthorne enters the interview room. SCP-9200-5 is sitting on one side of the table. Her hands are bound in a heavy restraint.]

[Dr. Clawthorne takes her seat.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Hello SCP-9200-5. How are you feeling today?"

SCP-9200-5: (growls something in old Adytite) *SCP-9200-5 later translated and said it meant: “Choke on your own entrails, you cow!”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I see. So not well?”

SCP-9200-5: “Are you going to kill me?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “There are currently no termination requests attached to you. May I ask why you would think this?”

SCP-9200-5: “You electrocuted me, kidnapped and detained me in this… whatever this is. What else am I supposed to think!?”

[-5 appears angry. -5’s skin starts to ripple. Guards ready electroshock collar. Dr. Clawthorne tells them to wait.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Calm down -5. We have no intention of harming you more than we already have.

SCP-9200-5: [Gestures to collar.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “A preemptive measure for new anomalies that are currently unpredictable.”

SCP-9200-5: “Oh that makes me feel so much better.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “-5, we can either continue this interview or we can put you in lockdown if you prove to be hostile. Your choice.”

[-5 noticeable calms down. Its skin begins to slow its rippling and eventually stops.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Good. So back to the top. How are we feeling?”

SCP-9200-5: “Terrible.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I would assume. I honestly do apologize for how rough you were handled. Our agents were told to acquire you and your family with as little damage-.”

SCP-9200-5: “Where’s my family? Ed. Em. Dad. ….Mother.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “We were not able to acquire them. Only you.”

SCP-9200-5: …

Dr. Clawthorne: “I am telling the truth.”

SCP-9200-5: …

SCP-9200-5: “Just me?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Just you.”

SCP-9200-5: …

SCP-9200-5: “So how long are you going to keep me here?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “That’s yet to be determined.”

SCP-9200-5: “So forever.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “No. Despite what you may believe, we are not a prison. We don’t throw things in a box and let them rot. We secure. We contain. And we most importantly protect. Not just humanity, but also the anomalous.”

SCP-9200-5: “You expect me to believe you’re not going to vivisect me?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Unnecessary. We’ve analyzed other flesh-crafters of your like and there is little variation in anatomy and biological structure.”

SCP-9200-5: “Oh.”

SCP-9200-5: …

SCP-9200-5: “So… what are you going to do to me?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “For humanoid anomalies we tend to focus on rehabilitation. Try to help you be more amiable and have you be able to enter Veiled society or enter locations made for the anomalous where you can live somewhat peacefully.”

SCP-9200-5: “Without my family.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Your brother and sister would be very likely to follow a path similar to yours.”

SCP-9200-5: “My parents?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I’m afraid at the moment I can’t disclose that.”

SCP-9200-5: …

[Dr. Clawthorne stands up to leave]

Dr. Clawthorne: “You will be escorted to your living quarters. You will be given 3 meals a day, and allowed to recreational activities to placate any boredom. You may also request certain items to aid in this. Any violations or violence will put you in lock down understood?”

SCP-9200-5: …

SCP-9200-5: “Yes.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Good. We want your stay with us to be as comfortable as possible.”

[She turns to leave before turning her head.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “We aren’t the bad guys -5. We’re here to help.”

SCP-9200-5 : “You almost sounded like you actually meant that. I wish it felt like that.”

End of Log.

Requests made by SCP-9200-5:

• The Good Witch Azura Book Series. Approved
• 
  Books related to Nälkä history and culture. Approved.
• 
  Interaction with other anomalous adolescents. Pending.
• 
  The Good Witch Azura Movie Trilogy DVD set. Approved.
• 
  Release. Denied.
• 
  Human blood. Denied.
• 
  Human bone. Denied.
• 
  Human tissue. Denied.
• 
  Garbs of Sarkic origin. Pending.
• 
  Removal of shock collar. Denied.
• 
  Apple Blood (nonalcoholic). Approved.
• 
  Limited access to the internet. Pending.

Interview 2:

Interviewer: Dr. Lilith Clawthorne
Interviewee: SCP-9200-2

Dr. Clawthorne: “Can you tell me about your family?”

[-5 cringes]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Sore subject?”

SCP-9200-5: “No no. Well, yeah. I mean… it’s complicated.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Take your time.”

[-5 takes a deep breath.]

SCP-9200-5: “I always saw my parents as entrepreneurs first, Karcists second, and parents third. Their priorities were always business and image before family. Family is a key aspect of the Nälkän⁸ faith. The flesh spread beyond generations. Bloodlines are very important to us.”
“I think my parents only ever saw my siblings and I as… dolls. Dolls to be dressed up in the way they wanted. Dressed up to be like… them.”
“Dad would always be in his workshop, tinkering and flesh crafting his newest project. The only time I really got to see him was when I learned of our culture. We didn’t talk about anything else. I think he just saw me as an extension of himself. Never as my own person. He’d also go along with anything my mother said.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “What was your mother like?”

SCP-9200-5: “Prideful. Arrogant. “Blights deserve the best” she would say. She was anything but humble. We… don’t have the closest relationship. We’d argue a lot. She’d say I should respect her. Respect everything she’d done for the family. Everything she sacrificed. Ha! She sacrificed nothing. And she was so…so…proud! Not of the faith but of our image."

Dr. Clawthorne: “Do you resent them?”

[-5 contemplates for a few seconds]

SCP-9200-5: “I think I don’t want to be like them.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “In what way?”

SCP-9200-5: “Selfish. Bastardizing our beliefs. Selling products to criminals.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Was it always this way?”

SCP-9200-5: “I started to realize it when I was 10.”

Dr. Clawthorne: "What changed?"

SCP-9200-5: “They started playing favorites, or at least my mother did. When my mother found out Ed and Em weren’t full flesh-crafters, she saw it as an insult. Like they did it on purpose. Like they didn’t work hard enough. When I started to show my abilities, all her focus turned to me. She made me the golden child. The future heir and Karcist. The inheritor of her legacy. Ed and Em were just there to stand around, look pretty, and try not to cause trouble.”

“I think my siblings resent me and I can’t even blame them.”

SCP-9200-5: …

Dr. Clawthorne: “Let’s change the subject. I’m curious about your body transfiguration abilities. You seem to only transform your hands and arms and rarely transfigure your whole body. Other carnomancers are able to transform their entire bodies with no issue. Why are you different?”

SCP-9200-5: “It. Hurts.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Excuse me?”

SCP-9200-5: *sighs* “A lot of people think flesh-crafters can just morph their body with no problem. Or at least that’s what it looks like. The truth is that it takes a large amount of concentration and discipline. We still feel pain. I feel it when my bones pierce out of my skin. I feel it when I turn the bones in my arms into scythes. I feel every muscle changing and reforming and shrinking and growing. It. All. Hurts. I’m not at the level to do full body transfiguration just whenever. Only when things get very, very dire”

“The pain is a price. A price to be paid in order to reach something bigger than us. A price to push our flesh to the limit and then to go even further beyond. When your body screams at you to stop, you keep going.”

“I’m more than willing to pay that price, but it will take time. But I am very patient.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Fascinating. It's less your unable and more you don't want to. Can you tell me when you started being able to do partial body transfiguration? If you’re okay with that, that is.”

SCP-9200-5: …

SCP-9200-5: “I was 6. I woke up in the middle of the night and my arm was throbbing in pain. And I mean a lot of pain. I got out of bed to run to my parents room. I thought they could do something to make the pain go away. I limped through the hallways of our manor, crying my eyes out.”

“Eventually I just fell to my knees. It was too much. And then I saw something move underneath my skin.”

“Next thing I know, I’m writhing on the floor in agony as my arm grows and sprouts new muscle and bone. I think I screamed. I probably screamed.”

“My parents came out and ran to me. Dad was able to stop the growth himself. But he wanted me to retract it. To reel it back in. I was bawling my eyes out. I kept telling him to do it for me. To remove it. But he just kept telling me to do it.”

SCP-9200-5: …

SCP-9200-5: “It took an hour for my arm to go back to normal.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I see. And how did your mother react?”

SCP-9200-5: “She had a sparkle in her eye. She was so excited at my development. She…”

…

Dr. Clawthorne: “-5?”

SCP-9200-5: “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

End of Log.

We have received anonymous claims that SCP-9200-5 has been mistreated by guards assigned to it. Mistreatment recorded includes verbal and physical abuse. Please note that any humanoid anomaly contained is to be treated with the same amount of respect as your colleagues. I don’t care if it's dangerous. I wish to build a level of trust with it and this abuse does nothing erase our progress. If mistreatment continues, disciplinary action will be carried.

- Dr. Clawthorne

Interview 3:

Interviewer: Dr. Hieronymus Bump
Interviewee: SCP-9200-5

Dr. Bump: “You don’t seem to have any qualms about cannibalism. Can you tell me your perspective?”

SCP-9200-5: “Besides the fact I need it to function, it holds religious significance. My people revere the physical form. The Mekhanites value the mind. The Daeva the soul. And for us, we value the body. The ultimate form. We savor every part. We honor one's memory through this. When my grandfather died, my family and I ate his flesh. Not out of maliciousness, or out of mindless, depraved hunger, but out of respect. We carry a piece of him. To carry on one’s memory. Unity. A family forevermore. And it is shared by those willing to accept the offering.”

Dr. Bump: “Speaking of family. You seem to show some contrast with your parents' beliefs. They display new age Nälkän beliefs while you are more traditional. Why is that?”

SCP-9200-5: “Before he met my mom, my father was more traditional. He came from a commune in Russia and learned of the ancient teachings. The rituals, history, what it really meant to be one with the flesh.”

“Then he met my mother. I don’t know how she was able to do it, but my mother was able to convince him to utilize his beliefs in a more… financial manner.”

“He still tries to make sure I know our history. Teaching me the old ways.”

“Whenever my family goes on trips to meet with potential buyers or other families of the faith and talk business, he would take me to ancient sites of worship. The holiest of holy. I even met the Great Mother and her pale walkers.”

“I’m not ignorant though. I see the limitations of the old faith, so I mix the traditional beliefs and new-age beliefs. I don’t fear technology and I’m aware of how I’m different  from other people, but I still practice the old ways and try to stay humble. It just seems more… equal.”

Dr. Bump: “I see. So if you don’t mind me asking. What does being Nälkä mean to you?”

[SCP-9200-5 contemplates for a few seconds.]

SCP-9200-5: “When I was younger, my mother told me we would be gods. I didn’t exactly know what she meant. I knew of Yaldaboth and Mekhane, the gods of instinct and intelligence. Fundamental concepts of humanity. I asked her what would we be the gods of? Emotion? Will? She responded with, “Everything.” I kept asking her to explain, but she slapped the back of my head, so pretended I understood. I think I know what she meant now. To her, being Nälkä is raw power and subjugation of others.”

“In Neo-Nälkän culture, selfishness is a common thing. Those who would sacrifice the many for their own gain. Survival of the fittest. There are those who pollute the teachings. Confusing freedom for selfishness.”

“Desire is the measure of all things. Be unbound from moral tethers. Do as you will, to whom you will. Have you ever heard that? It’s a common Neo-Nälkän proverb. Do what you want, morality and ethics be damned, not caring about who you hurt. When you think of the Nälkä culture as a whole, that's probably what you envision. You probably picture an insane cult that is drinking blood and mindlessly killing others for one’s pleasure.”

“When I think of the Nälkä, I picture family, unity, and being complete. A people who rebelled against their masters so that they would no longer be tortured and treated like property. People who fought for freedom against their oppressors so they could live their own lives. Live the way they wished to live.”

“Not to want more, but to be more. United and strong.”

“This is what being Nälkä is to me. To break my own chains. No limitations. To achieve full freedom for me and my fellow Nälkä and not to horde everything to myself, but to spread it among my people. I am an amalgamation of hundreds of lifetimes. An amalgamation of the ancient teachings of those who broke their chains and lived the lives they wanted.”

“Being Nälkän to me is to be free.”

Dr. Bump: “That is…. beautiful. I’ve never thought of it like that.”

SCP-9200-5: (SCP-9200-5 rubs its shock collar) “…Thank you.”

…

Dr. Bump: “-5?”

SCP-9200-5: “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

Dr. Bump: “That’s alright. We’ve made a lot of progress today. You may be escorted to your room.”

End of Log.

SCP-9200-5 has started to show signs of severe depression with its ongoing containment. Recommending allowing it to interact with others of its age. I believe this will greatly improve its mood. Submitting a request for monitored ‘play dates.’ Perhaps we can have her interact with that one Daevite girl? The one with the plants?

I am also recommending weekly therapy sessions to combat mental strain. I believe SCP-9200-5 has started to show signs of passive suicidal idealization. Recommending a minor dosage of antidepressants.

-Dr. Bump

Weekly therapy sessions and a dosage of antidepressants was approved. Interaction with other humanoid anomalies are still under review.

Incident Log:

10/18/2022 11:25 A.M.

[SCP-9200-5 is being escorted to the cafeteria for its lunch]

[-5 “trips” and falls on the floor.]

[Guard 1 goes to pick it up, before his throat is slit by -5 with a sharp bone protruding from its right forearm.]

[Guard 1 falls to the ground, gasping for breath and holding his neck.]

[Guard 2 activates -5 shock collar his shock baton]

[-5 shows immense pain by the collar, but is able to fight through it and transforms one of its arms into a writhing tendril that smacks Guard 2 several feet. Guard 2 drops the activation switch and -5 crushes it beneath its tendril.]

[-5 begins frantically running down hallways. Guard 2 has set off a site wide alarm.]

[-5 is looking for any possible exits when 3 security personnel arrive, two with shock batons and one with a firearm loaded with incendiary ammo.]

[-5 rushes towards security. The two guards with shock batons also rush towards -5 with Guard 5 providing assisting fire when needed.]

[-5 receives a massive shock of electricity from Guard 4 and slightly wavers. Guard 3 readies his shock baton when the tendril arm of -5 splits into four tendrils, grabs Guard 3, and slams him onto a wall.]

[-5 then grabs Guard 4 by his limbs until a shot is fired and a mini explosion near -5 erupts. -5 is slightly burned and knocked to its feet, but it still keeps hold on Guard 4. -5 uses Guard 4 as a human shield and moves toward Guard 5 who is unable to get a shot off without risk of severely wounding Guard 4.]

[-5 speeds up, eventually throwing Guard 4 at Guard 5 who dodges. Guard 5 begins firing at -5 while it runs toward him. -5’s tendril arm is blown apart. This appears to cause severe pain to -5, but it keeps moving, reforming its arm into its pre-tendril state.]

[-5 rushes Guard 5 while he reloads but he is too late. -5 turns its arm into a bone lance and thrusts it through Guard 5’s chest. Guard 5 collapses to the floor and expires. -5 is notably winded and is barely able to stand until its shock collar becomes active and brings it to its knees.]

[It turns its head to see Dr. Clawthorne with her finger on another switch.]

[-5 collapses.]

[More security is called and re-contain -5.]

End of Incident Log.

Post-Incident Interview:

Dr. Clawthorne: “Would you mind explaining to me this sudden outburst?”

SCP-9200-5: …

Dr. Clawthorne: “I have Two dead and three injured guards. The least you could do is give an explanation.”

SCP-9200-5: “They shouldn’t have gotten in my way.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “You were so cooperative before, what changed?”

SCP-9200-5: “This place is a prison.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “We are not a prison. We are a conta-”

SCP-9200-5, in a mocking tone: “Containment facility made to keep the world safe.”

SCP-9200-5: “Being trapped here goes against my fundamental beliefs. I’m not free, no matter how many pleasantries you give me. You don’t care about my wellbeing. You’re scared.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “We were making such progress.”

SCP-9200-5: “If you cage me like an animal, I’m going to act like one.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I thought you didn’t want to be like your parents?”

SCP-9200-5: “I’m not. I did what I had to do get my freedom. My parents were terrible, yes. But I am not them. I wanted to use my abilities to help people. Show them liberation through their flesh. I can’t do that while caged in here and used for information. I was always a prisoner. No matter what you say.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “You’re going on lock down until further notice. I hope you’re happy. Guards take her away.”

[Two guards go to SCP-9200-5 sides. SCP-9200-5 stands up.]

SCP-9200-5: “I am going to get out of here. And I don’t care what I have to do to achieve that goal.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Goodbye, -5.”

[The two guards and -5 leave.]

[Dr. Clawthorne pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs.]

End of Log

SCP-9200-5 has attempted multiple escapes since this log. Though none have been successful. New containment protocols are currently being discussed.

Due to increased hostility and violence SCP-9200-5 has shown, I recommend an alteration to its containment. Increase base shock intensity to 30% on its collar and security are now required to carry incendiary weapons when escorting it. I also wish to re-propose the explosive collar. I believe this will give it some incentive to stay in line.

- Dr. Wrath

Re: I’ll agree on the shock increase and limited use of incendiary weapons. But the explosive collar isn’t happening. It already hates us because of the shock collar and an explosive collar would just stoke that fire more. I still think we can rehabilitate it and build a level of trust, but the threat of death won’t aid us in that endeavor. It’s a child. It’s angry and scared. Remember that. We will only do what is required.

- Dr. Clawthorne

Video Footage of SCP-9200-5’s containment cell:

[SCP-9200-5 is seen in the middle of its bed in the fetal position. It can be heard softly weeping.]

The guards push her through the door of her room, causing her to land on her stomach. The guards come over and unlock the brace, freeing her hands and removing her muzzle. They swiftly left, locking her door.

Assholes

She rubs her hand and wrists. She brings her hands to her shock collar. She felt the small scratches she was able to make on it, not anywhere close to removing it. She wasn’t strong enough. She was never strong enough.

She’d be able to start her old routine again in the morning. Wake up, eat breakfast, go to the recreation room to “socialize” with other people who didn’t understand her, eat lunch, go to her room and read her Azura books for the 80th time (she’d requested and had been waiting for new books which felt like forever. They probably delayed them because of her recent… outburst.), eat dinner, go back to her room and do whatever she could until lights out.

Compared to the bleak and isolating aura of her previous cell, her room was a palace. A decent bed, an actual shower, and a T.V. They say prolonged isolation with no stimulation could lead to severe mental problems and brain damage and she could believe it. That room she was forced in was hell. Just her and her thoughts.

She’d count, meditate, recite passages from ancient Nälkän culture, anything to ease the boredom. Hunger was a whole other issue. It was painful.

We’re not the bad guys -5, she recalled Dr. Clawthorne saying during their first encounter.

Total bullshit.

They didn’t touch any of her things as far as she could tell. Even her bed looked the same when she left it last, completely neat and well made. Not even the pillow was moved. She went to grab one of the sheets before stopping.

“Right. The blood.”

She went to her bathroom sink and scrubbed the blood staining her hands and face. She was tempted to lick it to savor every bit of her meal, but she had too much pride to act like a rabid animal… again.

She cringed at herself for her past behavior. She looked at herself in the mirror.

Yep. Just as bad as she expected. She looked like a mess. Disheveled hair and a face that had seen better days. Time for a shower.

She stripped off the foundation clothes she was given to wear, hopped in the shower, and turned the water up as hot as it could get.

She stood, letting the nearly scalding hot water drench her.

She had made three realizations since lock down.

1. She actually missed her family. Her dad, her annoying siblings, and, most shocking of all, her mother. It’s true she didn’t have the strongest relationship with them, but they were the few constants in her life. Not anymore though. It had been months since her capture. Months since she fought the Foundation’s wind-up soldiers and allowed her injured family enough time to escape. They didn’t abandon her, at least that’s what she told herself.
2. 
   They were definitely planning on killing her parents. When she asked what would happen if her siblings joined her, she was given a spiel about the rehabilitation process. Make them more agreeable with their standards of normalcy and be able to integrate in Veiled society or anomalous Nexus’. When she asked about her parents, she was told, “I cannot disclose that information.” It’d make sense. The children could be “civilized” but their parents? Karcists and manufacturers of extremely dangerous bio-weaponry? They were going to roast them alive and toss the remains in the bin.
3. 
   This is what really concerned her. Her and her siblings were going to be released separately and, most likely, have some of their memories erased. Not only that, but new memories and identities would also probably be planted into them. They couldn’t go out in society and blab about the Foundation’s existence to Veiled society. And they wouldn’t let the Blight children keep their names since they were so well known to the anomalous world. They’d be new people. New names. New identities. They’d release her siblings when they’d turn 18 and then release her two years later. Her siblings might not even know who she is.

She wanted to scream, to rage. How dare they do this to her and her family. She wanted to make them all pay.

…

But not tonight. She needed rest and to build her strength. They’ll be time for revenge later.

She stepped out of the shower, dried herself off, got into her pajamas (also Foundation made), and leaped into bed for sleep.

As if by cue, the lights in her room started to dim. Lights out.

She closed her eyes and said to herself, “I am going to get out of here. These chains will be broken.”

Chapter Text

“On a scale from 1 to 10, how is your mood?”

The therapist asked this question at the beginning of every session. And she always gave the same answer.

”One.” Willow said bluntly.

“I see.” The therapist wrote it down in her notepad. 

Next she would ask:

“Can you tell me what has been bothering you?”

Willow doesn’t now why she asks this when she already knew the answer. But ‘I want to leave’ isn’t a valid response apparently, so instead she goes with:

“I guess I’m just getting tired of this routine. I still don’t see how it’s supposed to help.”

“We think it’s important to keep tabs on your mental state. We want you to be as comfortable as possible during your containment. We’re here to help.” she says with a fake smile.

”Sure.”

Willow shimmies in her seat.

We’re here to help. It sounds fake. Almost like she’s reading from a script.

She probably is. 

“How has the medication been treating you? Any side effects?”

”Still a groggy feeling.”

She writes in her notepad again.

”That is a common side effect with these medications. We’ll switch you to a lower dosage, okay?”

”Sure.”

Willow isn’t listening. She’s just staring off into space. She looks at a plant sitting on a bookshelf behind the therapist. She concentrates, hoping it would move. 

It doesn’t.

Plastic. Of course.

"Now, have you still been having those dreams?"

"Almost every night."

"Anything different?"

She thinks to herself.

"Last night was... clearer."

"Do you mind sharing?"

She looks down at her hands and then to her therapist. She takes a deep breath. "It started the same like all the others. I'm with my parents and friends in a forest. We're all sitting around a campfire and they're talking, but I can't understand them. It's like their talking underwater. Just garbled drowning. The fire suddenly snuffs out and all of a sudden I'm sitting alone in the forest. I'm not scared though. It feels... familiar. Like I've been there before. The trees are all misshaped and bend at odd angles. It starts to get dark, very dark. I suddenly see a red light in the distance and I walk towards it. It's almost like it's beckoning me. I get near the light, close enough to touch it. When I do, it erupts and drowns the entire forest in dark, red light. Then I hear someone whisper something in my ear. It's one word and it's different every time. I've heard 'domination,' 'cruelty,' 'blood,'. This time, all it said was, 'Red'."

"What do you think these dreams mean?"

Her eyes glaze over to the ground.

"I don't really know." 

…

Item #: SCP-9140

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-9140 is to be contained within a standard anomalous humanoid containment cell. The containment cell is to contain standard humanoid amenities (bed, shower, closet, desk). No plant life is to come within 20 meters of SCP-9140, except for testing purposes. Any floral entities originating from SCP-9140 are to be incinerated. 

Once a week, SCP-9140's room is to be searched for plant material. Any plant material found must be confiscated and incinerated. 

SCP-9140 is to attend weekly therapy sessions. SCP-9140’s mental state and mood is to be monitored. Any abnormal changes to SCP-9140's personality must be noted and cataloged immediately. Researchers at Site-99 are to catalog any auditory hallucinations. SCP-9140 is to be sedated and kept under watch if a "Rubedo" event occurs. Any "Rubedo" events are to be acted on immediately. 

SCP-9140-2 instances are not to be viewed directly. All SCP-9140-2 instances are to be contained in lock deposit box 2A and may only be removed for the purpose of translation by SCP-9140.

Description: SCP-9140 is an adolescent female descendant of the ancient Daevites¹. SCP-9140 possesses advanced biomancy abilities. Specifically, it possesses the ability to manipulate any flora. SCP-9140 can use these abilities to create humanoid arboreal entities, produce large vines capable of immense strength, increased plant growth, rapid transmutation of plant matter, and create larger carnivorous plants capable of consuming human beings and other large mammals. 

SCP-9140 resembles a baseline human being with two differences: two small horns protruding from both sides of its head and a prehensile tail two feet in length. The horns are usually covered by SCP-9140’s hair and are unnoticeable unless examined close enough. The tail is covered in dark fur, with a tuft of fur at the end, and can act as a fifth limb of sorts.

SCP-9140-1 is plant life originating from SCP-9140's blood. SCP-9140’s blood, upon contact with soil, can cause spontaneous plant growth with the amount and size of growth dependent on the amount of blood used. Plant life originating from SCP-9140’s resembles Lilium². SCP-9140-1 flowers come in a variety of colors and species and the color and species is presumed to be based on SCP-9140’s mood. Besides their anomalous origin, SCP-9140-1 entities have not shown any major differences to other flowers and are not considered anomalous. 

SCP-9140-2 are multiple books of Daevic origin. All these books are bound in leather, later analysis revealed the leather was made from human skin. SCP-9140-2 contents include transcribed history of the Daevites, Daevite rituals and thaumaturgy, and Daevite botany. Analysis on the 'ink' used for SCP-9140-2 revealed that it was a mixture of ink and human blood. SCP-9140-2 contain a cognitohazardous effect when its contents are viewed by non-Daevite individuals. When non-Daevite individuals look into SCP-9140-2’s contents, they claim to feel nausea, immense eye pain, headaches, vertigo, and general unease. Prolonged viewing of SCP-9140-2 has shown to result in seizures and ruptured blood vessels within the viewers sclera. 

SCP-9140 is shown to be studious and has shown an interest in anomalous history, history of the Daeva, Daevite rituals and practices, and general thaumatergy. SCP-9140 has noted that it has not performed the more gruesome of rituals within SCP-9140-2 and has only used its blood in rituals related to botany. 

Discovery:SCP-9140 was discovered in [REDACTED], Connecticut after reports of rapidly growing and “unusual” flora in the area.

The plant life that SCP-9140 had created bared similarities to plant life created by ancient Daevite biomancy. The Department of Chronology was sent to detect any evidence of timeline manipulation or other Daeva influence, as is the case with Daevite anomalies, which led them to the Park family.

Analysis using Daeva inspired temporal techniques, the Department of Chronology discovered that the timeline was altered, showing that the Park family’s daughter, Willow Park, or, SCP-9140, did not previously exist in the past timeline. It is believed that SCP-9140 came into existence indirectly after the most recent use of SCP-140.

Interview:

Interviewer: Dr. Hieronymus Bump

Interviewees: Gilbert and Harvey Park

Note: Dr. Bump was under the guise of a school counselor who wished to discuss SCP-9140's schooling.

[Extraneous Dialogue Removed]

Dr. Bump: “That’s very interesting. Can you tell me more of Willow’s upbringing?”

Gilbert Park: “Oh our Willow has always been a sweetheart. Even when she was little she was precious.”

Harvey Park: “You remember when I accidentally stepped on a flower? She was bawling her eyes out. We ended up having a funeral for the flower.”

Gilbert Park: “I gave a great speech. Real tearjerker.”

Harvey Park: “Eh, a little long-winded.”

Gilbert Park: “Oh you were crying, don’t lie.”

Dr. Bump: “If we could stay on topic.”

Gilbert Park: “Sorry, sorry. Got wrapped up in old memories. Where were we? Oh yes! Willow was the biggest sweetheart. Though she didn’t make many friends for a while.”

Dr. Bump: “May I ask why?”

Harvey Park: “Oh she was reclusive for awhile. Took a bit to break out of her shell. I think it started when she got into her hobbies.”

Dr. Bump: “Hobbies?”

Gilbert Park: “Gardening. She has quite the green thumb. I think she really found herself when she got into it.”

Dr. Bump: “I’m sure, I’m sure. If you don’t mind me asking, did you two adopt Willow or was a surrogate involved?”

[The two are noticeably uncomfortable.]

Dr. Bump: “Oh apologies. I didn’t say anything wrong, did I?”

Harvey Park: “No, no. It’s just…”

Gilbert Park: “We haven’t been in contact with Willow’s birth mother in a long time.”

Dr. Bump: “I see. Has Willow ever met her surrogate mother?”

Harvey Park: “No. She cut contact with us soon after Willow’s birth. She did leave her presents though.”

Dr. Bump: “Presents?”

Gilbert Park: “Books. Books on plants.”

Dr. Bump: “Perhaps she got her green thumb from her.”

[The two men laugh awkwardly.]

Dr. Bump: “Let’s shift topics a bit. Had Willow ever seemed… different from other children?”

Harvey Park, noticeably uncomfortable: “Whatever do you mean?”

Dr. Bump: “Odd behavior or quirks.”

Gilbert Park: “No. Nothing of the sort. Our girl is completely normal.”

Dr. Bump: “I’m sure. But nothing outlandish? Like at all?”

[The two look at each other and then back to Dr. Bump.]

Gilbert Park: “No. Nothing at all.”

[Extraneous Dialogue Removed]

End of Log. 

SCP-9140’s parents were further questioned and amnesticized. SCP-9140 was taken in for containment while other family and friends were amnesticized as well. 

Inside one of the SCP-9140-2 instances was a note that read:

My Dearest Willow,

When I held you in my arms and saw your eyes for the first time, I felt true love.

Bringing you into the world was my greatest accomplishment. I know you will do so much with this life I’ve given you.

The Daeva, we are masters of our past and future. To bend time to our will to allow us to prosper. Our greatest creation was the chronicle. A book that would bring our Empire to the present, erasing our defeats.

Our bloodline is a result of this. Whether it be accidental or through the efforts of an outside benefactor, I was brought into existence. It is rare for our kind to make it this far. Changes in time are gradual and can be unpredictable. Things don’t always work out exactly the way we want.

Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was merely luck. It does not matter in the end. I am here now. 

I was young when I learned of our people and our practices. My mother, who has long passed, taught me the ways. I learned of our blood magic and rituals. However, what really caught my eye was our botany. The flora we could create with our own two hands was beautiful. The magic of LIFE. To be one with nature itself. It was outstanding!

This is how I learned of the seeds. Marvelous creations. Through one’s blood, they would grow and grow into a mighty tree whose leaves could display your entire life’s story. Not only that, the fruit from these sanguine trees could bear seeds that show us the future. The future of one’s child.

And in it I saw you. I saw what you would become. You would grow from a bud to a flower that would stretch as far as the sky! I heard a voice then. A voice from the dark that had no shape or form. This voice told me it was my duty to bring you into this world, that you would be this world's savior and bring upon a new era. You would be great. I knew you needed to be. It would be an insult to life itself to keep you away from this world. 

Our people are very few and most are hidden and too far spread. I am not long for this world. I have been in and out of care many times. I’ve been able to stave it off, but there is only so much our blood can do. Do not worry. I’ve taken measures to make sure my wretched blood hasn’t tainted yours. Your blood shall flow and create life, not death.

I’ve left you these books to learn of your people. To understand what you are. You are not human, at least not fully. You are something so much more.

I leave you in the care of your fathers. They are good men who will love and raise you the way you deserve. I’m sorry I couldn’t be a part of your life.

Take care, my sweet xaofaof³.

Sincerely, Your Dear Vam⁴.

Addendum 1: Note on SCP-9140’s Containment:

We are in a unique circumstance. We have in our possession a living, breathing Daeva! We’re not just going off old books and artifacts anymore. We can do actual analysis. SCP-9140 could be the key to combating a future Daeva invasion. 

I want researchers to stay cautious though. This is an anomaly brought into creation by timeline manipulation and is a descendant of an ancient, violent race. We aren’t sure what it's fully capable of. It might look like an innocent girl, but remember what it truly is.

- Director Faust

Interview:

Interviewer: Dr. Lilith Clawthorne

Interviewee: SCP-9140

Begin Log:

[Dr. Clawthorne walks into the interview room. SCP-9140 is seen sitting at a table, looking confused.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Hello SCP-9140. How are you today?

SCP-9140: “Um… fine? Why are you calling me that?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “It’s standard procedure to refer to you by your designated number.”

SCP-9140: “Well, can you just call me Willow instead?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I’m afraid I cannot do that and that is not what we’re here to discuss. I’m sure you have other questions you want answered.”

SCP-9140: “Where are my parents?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “You will be temporarily separated from them for an undetermined amount of time.”

SCP-9140: "Are they safe?"

Dr. Clawthorne: "They are unharmed. We simply wish to know more about you."

SCP-9140: “Is this because of… what I can do?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I take it you mean the biomancy. Yes. We are intrigued by how your anomaly works and would like to know more."

SCP-9140: "If I tell you what you want to know, I'll be able to see my parents again?"

Dr. Clawthorne: "Of course. I'll show you to your room and we can start asking questions tomorrow. Okay?"

SCP-9140: "I guess."

End of Log

Interview 2

Interviewer: Dr. Lilith Clawthorne

Interviewee: SCP-9140

Begin Log:

Dr. Clawthorne: "Now can you tell me about your surrogate mother?"

SCP-9140: "There's not a lot of things I know. Just stuff my fathers said. They were looking for surrogates for a long time. She showed up on their doorstep one day, smiling ear from ear. My mother apparently was very persuasive. My parents didn't find out what she actually was until she was a few months along with me."

Dr. Clawthorne: "And their reaction?"

SCP-9140: "They were shocked, of course. But they were very open-minded about it."

Dr. Clawthorne: "Really? That's interesting."

SCP-9140: "She told them I would be different from other kids. I would look different from others. I would be able to do things other kids couldn't. But they didn't care. They would love me regardless of what I looked like or what I could do."

Dr. Clawthorne: "They sound very loving."

SCP-9140: "They were-"

[SCP-9140 pauses.]

SCP-9140: "They are."

[Extraneous Dialogue Removed]

Dr. Clawthorne: "Now can you tell me more about your mother's books?"

SCP-9140: "My dads gave me them when I was 8. I remember my first thought when I held the first book was, 'It's SO old!’ I figured they must have been passed down by a lot of generations of people before me. The book cover was covered in dust and old, dried blood, or at least I think it was blood. I think it was my parent's first time seeing it too, because I remember how concerned their faces were. They told me that my birth mother left them for me and they just let me read through them for hours, which I didn't even realize had passed. Time always went by quickly when I read through them."

Dr. Clawthorne: “Interesting that they just let you read them no questions asked. No offense, but based on what we know about the Daeva, we wouldn’t exactly call them child friendly.”

SCP-9140: “They thought it was the best way to learn about my culture. They wanted me to know what I was. They didn’t want to hide anything from me.”

Dr. Clawthorne: "And the book's contents?"

SCP-9140: "They were written in a language I didn't recognize but understood immediately. My brain automatically translated everything. I probably should've been more concerned about that. A lot of it was history of the Daeva. I read of the mighty matriarchs that ruled over the kingdoms. I read of the spirit beast our sorcerers would conjure for battle. I read of rituals involving blood and sacrifice. I was more intrigued than grossed out by it. I remember one of my dads came into my room to check up on me. He looked at a page I was reading about utilizing blood to increase crop yields. He suddenly blinked really hard and grimaced. He said the book hurt to look at."

Dr. Clawthorne: "Yes. We've had people attempt to read from your books and they could barely get through a few pages. Which reminds me. Would you mind translating some of the books and their contents? It would be incredibly helpful."

SCP-9140: "I guess that's okay."

[Extraneous Dialogue Removed.]

Dr. Clawthorne: "I'm curious about your appearance. Did you always look like this or is it a more recent development?"

SCP-9140: "When I was born, my tail was just a little stump and I didn't have my horns. They started to grow in later. I had to start filing them down and wearing my hear long. When my tail grew in, I learned how to hold things with it. It's very useful. It's like having another hand. I even learned how to write with it! Though it does accidentally gets snagged on things a lot. I usually have to tuck it down into my pants or wrap it around my waist. My papa used to call me his little devil."

[SCP-9140 smiles.]

SCP-9140: "They never treated me differently. They always encouraged me. Never made me feel like a freak.”

End of Log

SCP-9140’s birth mother, who will now be referred to as PoI-140, was later identified as Anita [Redacted]. PoI-140 disappeared from the public soon after SCP-9140’s birth. According to hospital records, PoI-140 suffered from several blood conditions and is presumed to have used ancient Daevite techniques to stave off expiration. Despite this, and context given through SCP-9140 and SCP-9410-2, PoI-140 is currently presumed deceased.

Foundation operatives investigated PoI-140’s personal affairs further and discovered a remote log cabin located in [REDACTED], Maine. Objects discovered within included Daevite scripture, Daevite ceremonial implements, and murals depicting [DATA EXPUNGED].

SCP-9140-2 Content Excerpts:

Blood is life.

It is memory.

It is the spirit.

It flows through us like a river.

The Daeva are masters of the blood.

Using it in our rituals and our agriculture, it fuels our Gods and let us unlock that which is forbidden to mortals.

We, the Daeva, are the only ones willing to make such a sacrifice.

To rip the still beating heart from those to be sacrificed and let their blood flow into our chalices, our altars, our soil and rivers.

And we paint ourselves with the liquid soul and dance to the sound of drums and chanting.

We dance and dance, letting our liquid soul pump through us, reminding us that we are alive here and now. 

The Monarch of Crimson's blood flowed through the Seven Matriarchs and it was through them that his will was enacted.

Domination. Slaughter. Enslavement.

All those who opposed the Seven Matriarchs were butchered and their labor and bodies were used to strengthen the empire.

There was no choice. There was never any choice.

And so the empire grew, overtaking cities and land, ending entire bloodlines in a single night.

With their spirit beasts and behemoths of wood, the Daeva spread their rule and dominion.

And so The Monarch of Crimson's power did grow, as the cruelty of his people and hatred of their enemies fueled him.

Soon he would rise again and have full dominion of the land.

Dominion, Longing, Desolation, Wrath, Lack, Hidden, and the most hideous of all concepts...

Hope.

The false hope that their enemies hung onto. The lies they fed themselves.

It made their fall all the more sweeter. 

A’tivik, the most beloved of the seven matriarchs, and her children caused the greenery itself to turn upon their foes. Mighty vines of thorn twisting and turning upon the battlefield, ensnaring their foes by their necks and heads to be necklaces and crowns of torment.

The thorns pierced deeply into their enemies skin, drenching them with their very blood. They would bind them, tighter and tighter, agony never ending. They were to stay there, forever tangled, drenched in their crimson and they would bear the image of The Crimson Monarch.

The Daeva are children of the forest.

Red and Green.

Blood and Nature.

The blood drenches the land, painting it in pure crimson.

It feeds and enriches life.

It feeds our crops and forests.

Our battlefields, our offerings.

They are all to quench the thirst of our Mother Earth.

Testing Log:

Object: One apple seed.

Result: SCP-9140 accelerated the age of the seed to be that of a fully grown tree within 30 seconds. Apples from this instance were shown to be much more nutritious than other apples of its kind.

Object: One carnivorous plant (Venus flytrap)

Result: SCP-9140 caused the the plant to grow to large proportions. The plant entity became violent and attempted to attack researchers, but was able to be exterminated via use of flamethrowers. 

Object: Footage of SCP-9140's parents.

Note: Purpose of testing was to catalog all SCP-9140-1 entities 

Results: SCP-9140 was shown footage of it and its parents during a family trip. SCP-9140 has stated that this trip was a fond memory and event in her life. SCP-9140's finger was pricked after and blood was dripped onto soil. SCP-9140-1 entity displayed similarities to Lilium canadense⁵.

Object: A SCP-9140-2 instance.

Result: SCP-9140 was told to study the SCP-9140-2 instance. SCP-9140 considered the SCP-9140-2 instance to be very interesting. SCP-9140’s finger was pricked after and allowed to drip onto soil. SCP-9140-1 entity showed similarities to Lilium bulbiferum⁶.

[Extraneous Testing Logs Removed]

Subject: SCP-9140’s containment.

Result: SCP-9140 was told to explain its feelings towards containment and its new living situation. SCP-9140 was notably depressed while explaining, making references to missing its home life and companions. SCP-9140’s finger was then pricked and allowed to drip onto soil. SCP-9140-1 instance showed similarities to Lilium candidum⁷. This SCP-9140-1 instance, upon full growth, quickly turned black in color and the petals began to fall off one by one. 

Requests from SCP-9140:

• Books relating to the ancient Daevites. Pending
• Plants of multiple varieties. Denied.
• Workout equipment (Barbells, jump rope, etc). Approved. 
• Sports magazines. Approved.
• Books relating to nature. Approved.
• Release. Denied.
• To see its parents. Denied.
• To go home. Denied. 
• [DATA EXPUNGED]. Denied. 

Interview 3:

Interviewer: Dr. Lilith Clawthorne

Interviewee: SCP-9140

Begin Log:

[Extraneous Dialogue Removed.]

Dr. Clawthorne: "Now what would you say is your limit when performing thaumaturgy?"

SCP-9140: ...

Dr. Clawthorne: "9140?"

SCP-9140: ...

Dr. Clawthorne: "If you’re not up to interview anymore we can-."

SCP-9140: "When can I go home?"

Dr. Clawthorne: …

Dr. Clawthorne: "That is yet to be determined."

SCP-9140: "It's been months. How much longer til I get an actual number? Is there even a number?"

Dr. Clawthorne: "We will not keep you in containment forever. We just need you here for study and to protect you from the general public."

SCP-9140: "I was doing fine before!"

Dr. Clawthorne: "9140, your floral entities were discovered. We had to step in and clean up the mess."

SCP-9140: "Then I'll be more careful!"

Dr. Clawthorne: "We can't just go off your word. We need to put measures in place. Do you understand?"

SCP-9140: "No! I'm not a monster! Why are you treating me like one?"

Dr. Clawthorne: "9140, we are not treating you like a monster. You are an individual and we respect that."

SCP-9140: "Then use my name. I haven't heard my name in months!"

Dr. Clawthorne: "I'm afraid that is not protocol."

SCP-9140: "I thought so."

[Dr. Clawthorne pinches the bridge of her nose.] 

Dr. Clawthorne: "9140 please cooperate with us. I swear we are keeping you here for your own good. I'm sorry, but for the time being, you are to stay here. Do you understand?"

[SCP-9140's eyes flicker between a dark-red and its normal eye color. A second voice is heard under its. The voice is deep and guttural.]

SCP-9140: "How dare you try to chain me here and use me to your own ends! Do you know what I am!?"

Dr. Clawthorne: ...

Dr. Clawthorne: "9140? Are you still in there?"

[SCP-9140 composes itself and appears to calm down.]

SCP-9140: ...

SCP-9140: "What... What just happened?"

Dr. Clawthorne: "You didn't sound like yourself there. Are you alright?"

SCP-9140: ...

SCP-9140: "I... I think I need to lay down. Can we end the interview, please?"

Dr. Clawthorne: "Of course."

End of Log.

Researchers complained of auditory hallucinations for three days after this event occurred. These auditory hallucinations consisted of whispers, mainly indistinct. However, some researchers claimed to hear words such as “REGRET,” “LOATHE,” “HATRED,” and “RED.”

SCP-9140 is to be closely monitored for any other out of character behavior, with events now being referred to as "Rubedo" events.

Incident Log 1:

SCP-9140 escaped containment on 11/08/22. It is believed that SCP-9140 had acquired seeds and other plant material from its previous tests without researchers realizing and had used these materials to incapacitate guards. It had also created arboreal humanoids to aid in its escape from the facility, forcing open doors and blocking security from interfering with its escape route. These humanoids were terminated by use of flamethrowers. 

It was believed that SCP-9140 had escaped to its point of origin. MTF Theta-4 (“Gardeners”) were sent to SCP-9140’s point of origin to obtain SCP-9140 and dispose of any entities it had created.

Addendum 2:

During transit to SCP-9140’s point of origin, agents spotted SCP-9140 sitting on the side of the road. Agents approached SCP-9140 with caution but proved unnecessary as SCP-9140 appeared to be catatonic. SCP-9140 was gripping the sides of its arms tightly, drawing blood. SCP-9140 was surrounded by Lycoris radiata⁸ . SCP-9140 was taken into custody and taken back to Site-99.

Recovery Interview:

Interviewer: Dr. Clawthorne 

Interviewee: SCP-9140

Begin Log: 

Dr. Clawthorne: “SCP-9140, can you tell me what you were doing on the side of the road?”

SCP-9140: [Silence.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “9140, please tell me what happened and we can help you.”

SCP-9140: “You know what happened.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Well can you tell it for the record?

SCP-9140: [Silence.]

SCP-9140: “They didn’t remember me. My parents th-they looked at me like I was a stranger. I saw them at the park we would always go at on Sundays. I ran up and hugged one of my papa’s tightly as I could. I said I missed them so much. You know what they said? They said, “We’re sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.”

“They weren’t stand-offish. That was the worse thing. They called me sweetheart. Asked me if I was okay and if I needed anything.”

“I said no and I’m sorry. That I must’ve mistaken them for some other people. They asked me again if I was okay and I had to give my best smile and say I was, even though I wasn’t. They gave me a warm smile back and then they were gone.”

“I didn’t need to visit my friends. I knew it would be the same result. So I just walked and aimlessly wandered until I couldn’t anymore. And that’s when you guys picked me up.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, 9140.”

SCP-9140: “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend like you care when it’s your fault. The reason my parents don’t recognize me is because of you and this stupid organization!”

Dr. Clawthorne: “9140-.”

SCP-9140: “Admit it!”

[Dr. Clawthorne sighs.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Yes. We were responsible for your parent’s and friend’s memory erasure. But please understand, it was only standard procedure. There was no malice in it.”

SCP-9140: “Then reverse it! You must be able to. So give them back their memories!”

Dr. Clawthorne: “9140, we cannot do that. There are protocols in place that we must follow. Reinstating their memories could result in damage to Veil secrecy and Foundation operations. Questions would be asked. Investigations would proceed after. There are too many variables and is simply not worth the risk.”

SCP-9140: "You were never going to let me see them, were you?"

Dr. Clawthorne: "I’m afraid that was a necessary lie so you would cooperate with us. I truly do apologize for deceiving you."

SCP-9140: “You trap me here. You destroyed my life. Erased me from the minds of people I care about. And you won’t do anything because it’s ’simply not worth the risk’ and ‘it isn’t procedure’!?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “SCP-9140, please-.”

SCP-9140: “Stop calling me that! 

[SCP-9140 abruptly stands up.]

SCP-9140: “I’m Willow. Willow damn it! Not 9140. I’m not an SCP. I’m Willow! Why can’t you get that!? My name is Willow! Just call me Willow!

[SCP-9140’s eyes turn a dark-red. Guards in the room raise their rifles and tell SCP-9140 to stand down.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Hold your fire! 9140 please calm down. If you attempt to initiate another containment breach, you will be placed in lock down.

[SCP-9140 trembles violently. SCP-9140 breaks down into tears and falls to its knees.]

SCP-9140, through tears and a rough voice: “Just call me Willow, please.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I’m… I’m sorry 9140. I really am.”

End of Log:

Note: During this interaction, all plant life within 70 meters off the interview room began to writhe violently. Plant life became inanimate after this event subsided. 

Containment procedure revisions currently being discussed. 

Incident Log 2:

SCP-9140 Containment Cell Video Log

11/15/2022 2:33 a.m.

[SCP-9140 is lying on its bed staring at the ceiling. It had been crying for most of the night.]

[Suddenly, SCP-9140 gets out of its bed. It then reaches under its pillow and pulls out an unseen object. SCP-9140 moves to the center of its containment cell and opens its hands, revealing a seed (it is believed SCP-9140 was able to smuggle the seed after its previous escape). It whispers into its hands and the seed begins suddenly sprouting multiple vines. Security is notified and quickly moves to SCP-9140’s cell. The vines begin growing along the walls eventually reaching the ceiling. A single vine dangles down from the ceiling. Using another vine to move it up higher, SCP-9140 begins to construct what appears to be a crude imitation of a noose.]

[On-site security personnel are 30 seconds away from SCP-9140’s containment cell. SCP-9140 puts its neck into the loop of the noose and tightens it. On-site security personnel are 15 seconds away from SCP-9140’s containment cell. SCP-9140 says a Daevic prayer. On-site security personnel are 5 seconds away from SCP-9140’s containment cell. SCP-9140 closes its eyes and begins to step off the vine it was standing on. On-site security quickly opens the cell door and grabs SCP-9140 before it can hang itself. SCP-9140 thrashes about, using the surrounding vines to attack personnel. However, on-site security personnel are able to cut SCP-9140 down and sedate it, halting all plant life in the cell. SCP-9140 is brought to the on-site med bay.]

[All plant life in SCP-9140’s cell was promptly incinerated.]

End of log.

Post-Incident Log Interview:

Interviewer: Dr. Clawthorne 

Interviewee: SCP-9140

Begin Log:

[SCP-9140 sits in a corner in the interview room, curled up into a ball.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “9140?”

SCP-9140: [Silence]

Dr. Clawthorne: “9140 please talk to me.”

SCP-9140: [Silence]

Dr. Clawthorne: …

[Dr. Clawthorne clears her throat.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Willow⁸? Can you talk to me?”

[SCP-9140 looks up at Dr. Clawthorne]

SCP-9140: “J-Just let me die. Please.”

[SCP-9140 remains unresponsive for the rest of the interview.]

End of Log

SCP-9140 has now been placed on suicide watch. 

Note by Dr. Clawthorne: SCP-9140's Mental State and New Revelations:

SCP-9140's mental state has regressed dramatically during its containment and shows severe bouts of depression and suicidal tendencies. I am recommending mandatory therapy combined with anti anxiety and antidepressant medication. That isn't the only thing that I wish to discuss. Over the last few months, strange events have started to occur in connection to SCP-9140's anomaly. Researchers hearing voices and SCP-9140's out-of-character hostility. I believe SCP-9140's mental state is connected to these events. We've questioned SCP-9140 about whether it had experienced events like this before containment and it said these events have never happened before outside containment. I worry we may be poking a sleeping bear. I suggest we look into its origin more with the context of what we found in that cabin. If it means what I think it means, we might be in trouble. I don't want to lose an innocent child because of our coldness and carelessness.

- Dr. Lilith Clawthorne

Proposal: Alter SCP-9140's Object Class to Keter. 

Reasoning: Due to SCP-9140's ties to the Daeva being much stronger than originally assumed, its thaumaturgy growing more prominent, and its potential connection to [DATA EXPUNGED]

O5-1: Yae

O5-2: Yae

O5-3: Yae

O5-4: Nay

O5-5: Nay

O5-6: Yae

O5-7: Nay

O5-8: Nay

O5-9: Yae

O5-10: Nay

O5-11: Nay

O5-12: Nay

O5-13: Yae

Status: Denied.

Reasoning: Due to the extent of SCP-9140's abilities being unknown and it still being an adolescent, we do not feel Keter classification is necessary until further information is acquired. Seeing how SCP-9140 has regressed to a passive temperament and has seemed to have accepted its current containment, further escape attempts are assumed to be unlikely. However, in regards to SCP-9140's possible connection to [DATA EXPUNGED], SCP-9140's containment is to involve cataloging and acting on any "Rubedo" events that SCP-9140 may experience. 

Proposal: Administration of amnestics to target and eliminate specific memories relating to SCP-9140’s parents. 

Status: Denied 

Reasoning: The Ethics Committee has agreed on a 16-14 vote that elimination of SCP-9140’s memories of its parents is unnecessary. There are better ways to combat its depressive mood.

Proposal: Implementation of one-on-one therapy sessions with a Foundation therapist once a week with group therapy sessions with other adolescent anomalies once a month on the first of every month.

Status: Accepted

Weekly therapy sessions are to be included in SCP-9140’s ongoing containment. SCP-9140 is attend group therapy sessions at a yet to be determined time. 

…

She still had cuts on her neck from the thorns. That’s what they don’t tell you when you’re suicidal. When you’re going to do it, make sure you do right because if you don’t, the aftermath is going to hurt like hell. 

It’s the odd things you miss when you’re on suicide watch. She missed having a drawstring on her sweatpants. She missed having shoe laces. She missed being able to eat without having to be monitored to make sure she didn’t make herself choke.

Would she try again? Probably not. They have her monitored 24/7 and could stop her before she even tried it.

They won’t even let her die.

They took her parents, her friends, her home, everything. They didn’t even have the decency to end her suffering. 

The antidepressants help, sort of. She’s on a heavy dosage which makes her sleepy and groggy, so she barely has the energy to do anything. It’s a numb feeling. Or no feeling at all? 

They didn’t silence the voices though. Ever since she arrived to this prison, she’s heard them. The whispers were faint at first but as her misery grew, so did they. “Hate.” “Dominate.” “Let me in.”

In her dreams, she sees herself sitting upon a throne made of wood and bone.

She is regal, staring over a land demolished and entangled by nature

She wears a crown of thorns and a flowing dress stained with the blood of countless victims. Her horns have grown, becoming curled and pointing towards the sky which has turned crimson. Her horns are as dark as the void itself.

People, bloodied and wounded, prostrate themselves in front of her, acknowledging her power and their fragility.

She is a queen.

But that isn’t what she wants. She does not want to be a ruler. She does not want to be a monarch. She does not want to be cruel. So she pushes it far down.

She hadn’t told them. She didn’t want to give them anymore reason to fear her. 

They never cared. They never saw her as a person. Just a science project. They feared her because of her heritage. She wasn’t a monster. She was just Willow.

Willow. Her name was is Willow. 

…

Dr. Clawthorne enters SCP-[Redacted] cell. She holds a bucket filled with multiple dead mammals. She is followed by two foundation guards.

“Wait near the entrance.” she orders.

One of the guards speaks up. “Ma’am, the anomaly is quite violent. I’ve seen it easily shred through D-class. It is highly recommended that we come with you.”

Dr. Clawthorne smiles. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

“Started a few weeks back. I’ve seen the anomaly do some real damage. So I think it’s better if-”

Dr. Clawthorne raises her hand to silence him. “Your concern is appreciated but unneeded. She won’t hurt me.”

She moves further into the enclosure. It’s resembles a forested area. Multiple trees surround her. 

A tree branch breaks. Heavy panting is heard throughout the trees.

“There you are. Come on. I’ve brought your favorite.” Dr. Clawthorne picks up a dead rabbit by its neck and dangles it in front of her like a lure. 

Heavy steps are heard. There is a large silhouette seen within the brush. It scopes its surroundings.

“It’s only me. I told the guards to stay behind like always.” Dr. Clawthorne says in a soft voice.

The figure comes out, moving towards her. It is a chimeric-like creature, towering a foot over Dr. Clawthorne. White and gray fur and feathers covers its entire body. Its claws are the size of steak knives and look like they could cleave through flesh in one strike.

The creature sniffs the rabbit and bites down on it, barely missing Dr. Clawthorne’s fingers. It begins to voraciously devour it.

Dr. Clawthorne drops the rest of the mammals near the creature. She pets the creature on its head. It gives a growl of pleasure.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been visiting as much. Work has been… stressful lately.” The creature pays her no mind as it lowers itself to devour the remaining corpses. 

Dr. Clawthorne kneels down and rests on the side of the creature and stares at the ceiling. The warmth of the creature is comforting.

“I’ll make sure not to make a habit out of it.” 

The creature finishes its meal. It fully lays down and relaxes. 

“Can I ask you a question?”

The creature lets out a small growl.

“Am I a good person? It seems harder to tell everyday. The ends justify the means. That’s what I tell myself.”

She goes quiet to contemplate her next words. 

“I had to console a crying child whose life we destroyed because we were afraid of it. A crying child. I had to put another one in a shock collar and treat it-… her like an animal.”

“It’s protocol. It’s procedure. It’s what we’re supposed to do. Then why does it hurt so much?”

She turns and rests on her side. She sees the creature breathing softly. 

“Don’t tell anyone this, but I have doubts on what we’re doing here. What I’m doing here. Maybe I just need to harden my heart. Maybe I should stop seeing these anomalies as people. Would that make it easier?”

The creature rolls its eyes, or, at least that’s what she thinks it does. 

“Heh. You’re right. Like always. All I can do is try to mitigate their pain. Make their lives slightly easier.”

The creature stands up and turns to Dr. Clawthorne. It nuzzles her face and rests on her lap. Dr. Clawthorne rubs the top of its head.

Dr. Clawthorne smiles. “I love you too, Edalyn.”

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, there was a very lonely boy with starlight in his eyes. He had horns that curled like a corkscrew and legs that could run as fast as the wind. He lived in the mystic woods of the unnamed with the other children of the forest. The fellow star children would say mean things to him and call him awful names. Halfling. Half-blood. Ugly goat. The children saw him as an abomination.

But that did not matter. He did not listen. He ignored the names and focused on his own. His True name. He was called Augustus, child of Perry the human and Fern the fae, though Fern was not actually her name. She lost it a long time ago. It was not a True name, but it was a name nonetheless. His parents taught him a great many things. His mother taught him the way of the trees and the stars. His father taught him the way of man and metal. The boy was brilliant, as he learned from both sides of the well. His mind was open to a great many things.

Augustus would spend his days practicing his magic, bending light to forge illusions that could deceive any man or creature in the land. When he was lonely, he would make illusions to speak to and they would listen to his new discoveries of the world. They were the only ones who would listen. 

His father showed him stories of people who would travel the stars and go on incredible adventures. At night, he would look up to the night sky and dream of one day reaching and touching the stars. His parents would join him and they would point out the constellations. Orion, the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper, and most beautiful of all, the Zodiacs. 

Capricorn stood out to him the most. His mother told him that Capricorn was half-goat and half-fish. He could walk on land and glide through the water. One foot in both worlds.

“He’s just like me!” the boy would say with a big smile. 

His mother smiled back. “Yes. He was also loyal and hardworking. Just like you, my little goat.” She booped his nose. His father laughed.

He beamed. 

All was well.

And then it all went wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong. 

One night, the three of them went deep within the mystic woodland. They had done it hundreds of times before, gazing at the beauty of nature and at the stars. The boy smiled and ran into the brush, his parents calling for him to wait and slow down. He was in his own world. He wanted to go farther in. He wanted to see how far he could go. They kept calling to him. 

And then, the voices abruptly stopped. 

He called out to them. No answer. 

He went back and he found them. He wanted to vomit. Their bodies were mangled, torn and crushed, painting the grass shades of blue and red, mixing into a brutal shade of purple. Standing over them was a hideous creature. It stood on a single, bird-like leg and on top of it was a giant rounded head, covered in dark hair, with a mouth filled with needle-like teeth. The creature gnawed on them, snapping their bones in its teeth. He screamed. He couldn’t help it. 

The creature snapped its head towards him, training its large eyes onto him. Its eyes shined as bright as the moon and he was completely paralyzed. The monster moved its foot, crushing what was left of his mother, and launched towards the boy with its maw opened. God, the noise it made. A guttural screech of the damned.

He was going to die. He was going to die. He was going to-!

The next thing he knew, his eyes were opened towards the sky. Over him stood a fae woman with lizard scales, a healer by the looks of it. The boy raised up, frantically looking for his-.

He looked at the grass. He still saw purple.

No.

NO!

He saw another fae with the wings of a bird, standing over the corpse of the creature. It had been impaled by the earth.

The fae woman had told him that the two were walking past and attacked the creature before it could make contact with the boy. He must’ve passed out. 

She asked him if he was alright. 

But he could barely hear her through his cries.  

The boy was sadder than he had ever been. He was taken into a home of other children who lost their parents. He was told they would be his new family. It did not feel like they were. They wouldn’t let him play with them. Wouldn’t let him join in dancing or music. And so the boy stayed in his room, conjuring illusions of the ones he lost to fill the void in his heart. 

There was no warmth to them.

…

Item #: SCP-9122

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-9122 is to be contained in an altered humanoid containment cell containing basic amenities: bed, bathroom, T.V., closet. The entrance to this containment cell must be plated and lined with iron.

Researchers assigned to SCP-9122 are to be well versed in fae biology and nomenclative thaumaturgy. Researchers and personnel require a level 4 on the cognitive resistance scale to escort SCP-9122.

During testing and interviews, SCP-9122 must wear its nomenclature inhibitor for the full duration of these interactions. SCP-9122 is required to wear its nomenclature inhibitor collar at all times. 

Both SCP-9122-1 instances are to be contained in a standard lockbox in storage locker 36A. 

Description: SCP-9122 is an adolescent member of the species Homo sapien-sidhe , also known as fae. SCP-9122 possesses curved horns, hoofed-feet, and legs resembling those found on Capra aegagrus hircus , or the Irish goat. SCP-9122’s eyes are dark in color, resembling those found on Capra aegagrus hircus with yellow specks dotted on the iris. These specks have since faded. 

SCP-9122 possesses the ability to produce nomenclative hazards, effectively being able to swap names, and therefore identities, with individuals through speaking. These transitions go unnoticed by outside viewers not trained in nomenclature thaumaturgy, and individuals will now see SCP-9122 as the other individual until the process is reversed. SCP-9122 can also swap the names/designations of two separate people with no change being observed by outsiders. These name swaps give individuals cluster headaches and makes them question their surroundings and themselves. 

If SCP-9122 attempts to transfer a name between an individual and an object, the individual’s body will begin to distort to match the object, usually resulting in broken bones, ruptured organs, and bodily disfigurement. SCP-9122 has shown a strong aversion to performing this ability. Please see: Testing Log.

SCP-9122’s nomenclative thaumaturgy fluctuates and at times it seems SCP-9122 tends to lose control when attempting to wield it.

SCP-9122 can manipulate light to create illusion constructs and environments. These constructs are used to deceive individuals by appearing identical to a location or person. Constructs of individuals display limited sentience with the level of sentience being determined by the user. SCP-9122 has shown the ability to delve into an individual’s memory, creating illusion constructs based on the individual’s memories and experiences on the physical plane. Individuals will claim to have relived traumatic experiences due to SCP-9122, although SCP-9122 has claimed that it does not mean to do this. The strength of these illusions is connected to SCP-9122’s emotional state. Despite the realism of these illusions, they cannot physically interact with individuals.

SCP-9122-1 are two brass pendants in the shape of a key. When these pendants are used on any doorway or entryway with a traditional lock, the entrance will become a Way¹ to the forest of those who were forgotten. In the center of SCP-9122-1 was a small, glass chamber that contained a blue liquid of unknown composition. SCP-9122 has stated that this liquid is what was needed for SCP-9122-1 to function. The glass chambers on both SCP-9122-1’s have become broken and this liquid has since been lost. It was originally assumed the substance needed for SCP-9122-1 to function was fae blood, but after acquiring blood samples from SCP-9122 and introducing it into the repaired glass chambers, no anomalous affect manifested. When not holding this anomalous substance, SCP-9122-1 can act as a “skeleton’s key” and can fit into any traditional lock of a door. Both anomalous properties of SCP-9122-1 do not apply to electronic locks and locks not connected to doors.

SCP-9122 has shown an interest in human culture and, despite volatile human and fae relations, possesses a very optimistic view of humanity. 

SCP-9122 was discovered by Foundation agents investigating claims of “goat-men” sightings in [REDACTED], Connecticut. Foundation agents tracked SCP-9122 to an abandoned house where it had been staying. SCP-9122 came with agents willingly and said it had come from the land of the unnamed.

Interview:

Interviewer: Dr. Lilith Clawthorne

Interviewee: SCP-9122

Begin Log:

Dr. Clawthorne: “Comfortable?”

SCP-9122: “Yeah! I really like the vibe of this place. It’s really sci-fi! The sliding doors, the metallic, all white hallways. It’s like Cosmic Frontier² !”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Well at least you're enjoying your stay with us so far.”

SCP-9122: “Definitely!”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Not the reaction I was expecting. Most fae, I would assume, would prefer to reside within nature.”

SCP-9122: “Well, don’t get me wrong. I love nature, my home, and my people. But I’ve always been drawn to stuff like this. Human tech and culture is fascinating to me! My dad, Perry, really got me into it.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Well certainly your parents would miss you, wouldn’t they?”

SCP-9122: “They’re… not around anymore.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I see. Then can you tell me how you came here?”

SCP-9122: “I used my pendant. My mother, Fern, gave it to me. Apparently it was an old family heirloom. It helps build a connection between realms. My mom would use it to bridge the gap to make it easier for my dad to come through. After they died, I would use it to travel between realms and study humans. I… accidentally broke it though. Do you guys think you can repair it? I’d like to have a way back home when I'm ready. It needs a type of blue liquid to work.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “We will try to recreate the substance used to operate it. In the meantime, you can stay with us.”

SCP-9122: “Thank you so much!”

Dr. Clawthorne, smiling: "Of course."

End of Log

Requests:

• Human history books. Approved.
• Human electronics. Approved.
• Cosmic Frontier novels and movies. Approved. 
• Removal of iron plating and lining on its cell entrance. Denied.

Addendum: Species Overview

The following document is to be used as reference for researchers assigned to Eshu class anomalies. It is imperative that researchers are fully knowledgeable and aware of the documented history and biology of the fae. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.

Genus species: Homo sapien-sidhe

Colloquial Name: Fae

Other designations: Faerie, Elves, Fair Folk, Sprites, and Star Children.

Lifespan: 1000+ years

Estimated Population: 12,000,000 7,500,000 4,500,000 100,204

Locations : Hy-Brasil, Three Portlands, Ireland, Scotland, Poland, and the woods we dare not speak.

Biology: Fae appearances vary wildly. While some fae can pass for baseline humans, most fae display animal characteristics. Animal characteristics can include horns, feathers, avian wings, scales, spines, insectoid wings, insectoid antennae, excess fur, hooves, claws, and sometimes heads appearing identical to other animals. 

Regardless of animal characteristics, all fae irises display a similar pattern of yellow specks, said to resemble distant stars in the night sky. 

Fae suffer from an allergy to iron, with contact with iron causing skin irritation and pain. Iron has also shown to weaken thaumaturgy originating from fae. Because of this, fae blood does not contain iron. Instead, fae blood will contain hemocyanins, a protein used to transfer oxygen throughout the body, with it being composed of copper, causing the blood to appear blue. Despite mainly appearing in invertebrates, fae with invertebrate characteristics (octopuses, mollusks, crustaceans) are considered rare. This is assumed to be the origin of the term “blue-blood”, a term relating to individuals of royalty, first originating from humans encountering fae royalty. 

Fae organ systems and structure are identical to humans, except in two regards: Their blood, as mentioned before, and their bile sacs. Near the heart of every fae is a large organ containing large amounts of phlegm-like bile that possess large amounts of thaumaturgic energy, allowing the fae to be more naturally magically inclined. 

Biography : The fae are one of the three major intelligent lifeforms on the planet, evolving along with Homo sapiens, humans, and Homo sapien-noctis, Yeren . Homo sapiens, Homo sapien-shide and Homo sapien-noctis are assumed to have evolved and originated from a common ancestor found on Earth. However, some fae claim they originated from an ‘other-worldly’ source, potentially originating from an alternate reality. This is only assumed through research compiled from fae creation myths stating that the fae “came from the stars” and “the in-between.” Regardless of origin, the fae species and ancestors are known to have existed as far as 4.8 million years based on analysis of fossils recovered from fae points of origin.

The Yeren ruled over humanity and the fae, outnumbering them in the millions, enslaving and imprisoning them. This was not seen as morally reprehensible by the Yeren as they did not view the fae or humanity as people, rather wild animals to be utilized in whatever way they saw fit. The fae and humanity would eventually overthrow the Yeren, apparently using power given to them by a Trickster deity/spirit, resulting in 75% of the Yeren population to be exterminated. The other 25% who did not flee to the dark forests, were said to have escaped to, “a world of scorching rain,” presumed to be a pocket dimension of sorts.

The first fae kingdom to be founded after the great rebellion was Avalon, a kingdom whose location is currently unknown. The first fae royalty were King Oberon and Queen Titania, who would later be revered as holy figures and even said to have ascended to fae godhood. It is believed that the fae royalty possessed powerful ontokinetic abilities, being able to create portals to other worlds, terraform the land, use telekinesis, use telepathy, and perform advanced thaumaturgy. Legends state that these powers were gifted to them by the fae’s gods for their devotion to their people.

Despite their previous alliance, humanity would betray their fae allies by imprisoning their Trickster savior/spirit out of fear of its destructive power and that the fae would eventually use it to turn on the humans. Relations between fae and humans became strained and humanity would eventually go to war with the fae over rights for territory and a belief that they were the true inheritors of the Earth. 

Fae populations have unfortunately dwindled due to wars with Yeren, crusades from humans for the purpose of religious cleansing and territory disputed, and early extermination efforts by GoI’s. Fae relations with humans are volatile because of this, causing fae to become isolated and avoiding human interaction. 

Due to a destruction to fae nations and populations, most of fae history has fallen into mythology within Veiled society, only appearing as fantasy in multiple pieces of media and legends. 

Thaumaturgy: All fae possess a basic understanding of thaumaturgy, or magic. Most fae will utilize some form of biomancy, controlling plant life and being able to communicate with animals. Geomancy is another common thaumaturgy type, with fae being able to manipulate large areas of land, soil, and stone. 

Magic strength is determined by two factors: a fae’s emotions and how much bile it can produce. A sudden spike in emotional distress in trained fae can increase thaumaturgy strength and the amount of bile a fae can produce determines a fae’s casting time.

Despite the variations of thaumaturgy, all fae possess a form of nomenclative thaumaturgy, or “name magic,” with varying levels of strength. Nomenclative thaumaturgy utilizes the manipulation of names, written or spoken verbally, to alter one’s perception of a person or object. When speaking with fae individuals, researchers are to speak with caution as fae do possess the ability to steal a True name and, therefore, steal someone’s very identity. If possible, only give long-winded descriptions of fae related individuals or objects rather than an official title. Please See: Eshu Protocols .

Zoology: There are many anomalous fauna that originate from fae landmarks and fae magic. Many fae fauna are endangered or extinct due to over hunting efforts by humans. Fae fauna include:

• Equus unicornis: Common Unicorn. An iridescent equine possessing a single, long horn on its forehead. Can produce large amounts of thaumaturgic energy, or, mana. Is often hunted for its horn, which possess medicinal purposes for healing and is used as a retroactive contraceptive. After horn removal, unicorns will display severe depression, a lower immune system, and loss of major offensive abilities (physically and thaumaturgically). Unicorns are now critically endangered. 
• Opisthocomus O. infernus: Phoenix. An avian possessing red and orange feathers. Possesses pyrokinesis and a form of “immortality” where after suffering from old age/severe injury, a phoenix will engulf its entire body in flames, shrink in on itself, and regress to an egg. These eggs are notably very durable, requiring sufficient force to break. Phoenixes hatched from this egg appear to retain memories from its previous “life.” Despite this renewal method, phoenixes are now endangered due to anomalous hunters who sell their eggs to high class restaurants that possess means to break the egg’s shell and prepare the unborn chick inside. 
• Canis sidhe: Cù-sìth: A large canine with green fur. Cù-sìth's are classified as both fauna and flora as it is able to gain sustenance from both an omnivore diet and photosynthesis, as well as being able to produce plants, mainly flowers, from its fur. Is currently endangered due to deforestation. 

For a full list of fae based fauna, please see: Fae Bestiary.

Religion: Fae religion shows similarities to human paganism with an emphasis on protecting nature and the worship of multiple gods. The major deities are 4 nameless, outer entities, all being connected to a form of self expression and/or creativity: Stories, Dreams, Art, and Music/Dance. Fae Elders will hold these concepts in high regard, encouraging self expression among younger fae. Most fae, in turn, will become authors, dancers, musicians, painters, and join dream based organizations such as the Oneiroi Collective.

Below these outer entities/old Gods are deific entities that more closely resemble Gods from other religions, possibly being a precursor to some. Most notable is Mother Gaia, the goddess of the Earth, who is said to have personally welcomed the first fae into the world and fed them the fruit of knowledge, allowing them to see beyond other sapient beings. Other gods would find their way into human legends and literature. Lady Mab, goddess of blood, the hunt, war, vengeance, and the celestial body known as Mars, was prayed to by fae warriors for strength. Lady Titania, goddess of the stars and Moon, who was even more revered than other fae goddesses for her connection to the stars. 

Stars and other celestial bodies play a significant role in fae religion, with some fae worshiping the very stars themselves. Belief in astrology is often common, as fae believe the stars and alignments can influence the natural world. It is believed that early humans who converted to this religious aspect were precursors to what would become the Fifth Church/Fifthism, a religion centered around stars and transcendence. Fae holds the church in contempt, seeing them as heretics and bastardizing fae beliefs to conflate human sins of greed and envy.

Testing Log:

Subject: D-81126

Task: SCP-9122 was told to switch the names of itself and D-81126

Result: SCP-9122, through some difficulty, was able to switch the name of itself and D-81126. Security personnel questioned how D-81126 got out of their handcuffs and almost tackled SCP-9122 before being reassured by nomenclative thaumaturgists on standby that the change was successful. SCP-9122 then switched its and D-81126’s names back. SCP-9122 developed a headache afterwards. 

Subjects: D-81126 and D-89500

Task: SCP-9122 was told to switch the names of D-81126 and D-89500

Result: SCP-9122, through some difficulty, was able to switch the names of D-81126 and D-89500, resulting in their identities being switched to outside observers. Only nomenclative thaumaturgists on standby were able to tell the difference. SCP-9122, through some difficulty was able to switch the names of D-81126 and D-89500.

Subject: SCP-9122’s illusion limitations.

Task: SCP-9122 was told to create an illusion of itself for as long as possible.

Result: The illusion displayed limited sentience, being able to hold a basic conversation with SCP-9122 and researchers. The illusion’s speech and appearance became more incoherent and distorted as time went on. SCP-9122 was able to hold the illusion for an hour before relenting from strain and head pain.

Subject: SCP-9122 illusion limitations.

Task: SCP-9122 was told to create multiple illusions of itself and hold the illusions for as long as possible.

Result: Results were similar to the previous test, with the only difference being that SCP-9122 could only hold the illusions for thirty minutes before becoming severely lightheaded and obtaining a bloody nose. 

Testing was temporarily suspended until SCP-9122 recuperated.

Interview:

Interviewer: Dr. Lilith Clawthorne 

Interviewee: SCP-9122

Begin Log:

Dr. Clawthorne: “Feeling better?”

SCP-9122: “A little. I’ve never really pushed myself for that long. How many of these tests are you going to have me do?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “We just want to make sure we have a complete understanding of your abilities. Speaking of. I’m curious. Usually with others of your kind, we have to follow so many rules and avoid walking on eggshells when it comes to your abilities. But with you, the rules seem more… lax.

SCP-9122: “I have two theories on that. One: I’m only half fae, so maybe the magic just doesn’t come as easy to me. That’s what the fae elders said anyway. Heh.”

“Theory two: It might just be an age thing. I’m still growing. It will probably be some time before I can do it seamlessly.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Let’s move on. Other fae have difficulty arriving to our world. What makes you different?”

SCP-9122: “Oh! That’s because I have a True name. Oh, sorry. I should probably explain.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “It would be good for the record.”

[SCP-9122 contemplates for several seconds.]

SCP-9122: “Names, at least for the fae, aren’t just names. They’re tied to your identity. They are a fundamental truth of the universe. Your name is meant to be a fact. A True name grounds us to the physical world.”

“A long time ago, something happened. Well, a lot of things happened. You probably already know, but humans went to war against us. I don’t really know why. They probably felt scared. It wouldn’t be the last time it would happen either. Anyways, during these conflicts, lives were not the only thing on the line. Fae don’t fear death. We see it as a natural process of the world. But we do fear losing our names.”

“I don’t exactly know how this works, but after the battles and conflicts, some of the fae lost who they were. Maybe we just weren’t made to bring destruction. Maybe the humans had some special magic of their own. I even heard a legend of a human ripping the name from a fae warrior's chest and the fae slowly fading into the ever wandering wood.”

“Their names became disconnected to them and so they lost their tether to this world. And if you don’t have a True name anymore, you can’t come back.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Why only the fae?”

SCP-9122: “The elders spoke of when Gaia’s children first walked this Earth, it was only the fae who could hear the music of creation. Only they could see the brush strokes in the night sky. We don’t just worship nature. We are nature. We see what others can’t. We are attuned to the universe and when we lose our names, we lose our purpose.”

“I think about it like this. Imagine if everyone on the Earth suddenly forgot what the concept of happiness was. That name, and all other synonyms related to it, was lost and so its meaning went with it. It no longer has a purpose or reason to exist in this world. This fundamental truth has been erased, this concept has been stolen. And so it no longer has a place in the universe.”

“I’m sorry, that was probably a bad explanation. Name magic can get very complicated.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I actually have done research on it and it can be quite a doozy.”

SCP-9122: “It made my head spin the first time I heard it, too.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “So if you try to enter the human realm without a True name…”

SCP-9122: “…you forcefully get pulled back into the glade of lost names. The universe literally rejects you.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I take it Fern was not your mother’s True name?”

SCP-9122: “Yeah. She lost her True name a long time ago. She was actually planning on stealing my dad’s name, but then he made her laugh and that changed her mind.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “You’re parents sound like they were quite the pair.”

SCP-9122, smiling: “Yeah, they were.”

[EXTRANEOUS DIALOGUE REMOVED.]

End of Log

Testing Log cont.:

Subject: SCP-9122

Task: SCP-9122 was told to create an illusion of something that brought it comfort.

Result: SCP-9122 closed its eyes for a few seconds before conjuring an illusion of a female humanoid with dark skin and long, dark hair. The female displayed characteristics of Capra aegagrus hircus . The humanoid gave off an aura of kindness and gentleness, softly placing its hand on SCP-9122’s cheek before dissipating. 

Note: SCP-9122 later disclosed that the humanoid was its mother. When repeat tests were done, other illusions included SCP-9122’s father and an individual referred to as ‘‘Matt.’ SCP-9122 later clarified this ‘Matt’ was a dear friend of its. 

Subject: D-89052

Task: SCP-9122 was told to approach a restrained D-89052, read their memories, and display an illusion based on the memories. 

Note: D-89052 has a history of violence, gang affiliation, drug trafficking, and drug use.

Result: SCP-9122 places its hand on D-89052’s forehead. SCP-9122’s eyes begin to glow a deep blue. D-89052 begins to violently struggle and audibly yells for SCP-9122 to stop. SCP-9122 was told to ignore this and continue.

An illusion of a warehouse is layered on top of the containment cell. A group of men in dark clothing is seen in the center of the warehouse. One of the men holds a suitcase.  A large, metal shutter ascends showing another group of men. One of the men is carrying a large duffel bag. D-89052 is seen in the second group.

The two groups discuss drug operations before the men place the duffel bag in front of the other group. The leader of the first group instructs one of the individuals to check the bag. The individual opens the bag to reveal multiple bricks of cocaine. The individual tastes the product before nodding to their leader. 

The leader snaps their fingers, signaling the individual with the suitcase. The individual places it on the ground in front of the second group, opening it to reveal a large amount of money. An individual from the second group obtains the suitcase and counts the contents, before stating that the amount isn’t what they agreed on.

The two leaders argue, before having the two groups raise their weapons. A firefight occurs, wounding some of the group and killing others. D-89052 is shot in the shoulder and attempts to run before seeing a man next to him be shot in the chest. The man screams and unloads his clip into the first group, killing the remaining gang members. D-89052 goes to their shot comrade, trying to put pressure on the wound. D-89052 says the individual is going to be okay, before the individual expires. D-89052 screams and cries loudly. 

The illusion then dissipates.

SCP-9122 is noticeably trembling while D-89052 begins to scream and curse at SCP-9122. Testing ends and D-89052 is taken to their cell.

Note: D-89052 later stated that the individual who expired was their brother. 

SCP-9122 was given an hour break before continuing testing.

[EXTRANEOUS TESTS REMOVED]

Subject: Dr. chair chair and D-table

Task: Impromptu test. 

Results: SCP-9122 accidentally switched the names of Dr. chair chair and D-table during testing. The two displayed confusion and headaches at the switch. SCP-9122 attempted to undo the switch, but accidentally switched the subject's names with the Harry Pines and 81245 in the room. D-table’s spine began to extend and bend backwards while their arms and legs broke and reformed into table legs. Their head turned 180 degrees and grossly flattened and extended over its torso, covering most of the surface. D-table displayed extreme pain for the entire duration of the change. 

Dr. chair chair’s body began to twist, bend, and break as it reformed into the Harry Pines, audibly screaming throughout the entire duration. It appeared the subject's fingers grossly extended, making up the legs to the Harry Pines. Dr. chair chair’s face was found on the back of the Harry Pines.

Both subjects expired soon after. 

SCP-9122 was found cowering in the corner of the room repeatedly saying, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

End of Testing Log

Despite SCP-9122 claiming it was an accident, SCP-9122 was placed on a one week lock down while researchers reevaluated testing procedures. 

After testing, SCP-9122 developed self-doubt, anxiety, and fear of its abilities. 

Addendum: X9-Nomenclature Inhibitor Collar:

Due to incidents related to SCP-9122’s abilities, Foundation containment specialists were instructed to construct a device to limit SCP-9122’s abilities. Collaborating with the Department of Miscommunications, containment specialists were able to manufacture the X9-Nomenclature Inhibitor Collar.

By stimulating the vocal cords of the subject, the device is able to filter and deter any nomenclative hazards and thaumaturgy that the subject may try to invoke. As nomenclative thaumaturgy is a mainly verbal based thaumaturgy, the collar should help reduce any containment breaches and/or incidents. 

Testing Log:

Subject: D-80007

Task: Switch the names of D-80007 and a table located in the testing chamber.

Result: After much coercion, SCP-9122 attempted to verbally name D-80007 and transfer their name to the table in the testing chamber. Before it could transfer, the collar was activated, disrupting the transfer. SCP-9122 exclaimed in pain, stating that the collar burned its throat and it “made the words taste wrong.”

Subject: D-89050 and D-88872

Task: Switch the names of D-89050 and D-88872

Result: SCP-9122 at first hesitated, but attempted to make the switch after much coercion. The collar activated and neutralized all nomenclature thaumaturgy SCP-9122 attempted.

SCP-9122 was brought to its knees, gasping in pain stating “It hurts to speak.”

[EXTRANEOUS TESTS REMOVED]

Testing concluded with the X9-Nomenclature Inhibitor Collar being a success. SCP-9122 was notably ill after testing and vomited soon after. 

Interview:

Interviewer: Dr. Clawthorne

Interviewee: SCP-9122

Begin Log:

[SCP-9122 appears uncomfortable and has eye bags.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Are you alright?”

SCP-9122: “Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just haven’t been getting that much sleep and these tests are… strenuous.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I’ll send in a request to decrease the number of tests. You shouldn’t be losing sleep over this.”

SCP-9122, smiling: “Thanks. Umm… Also, do I really need to wear this during the interview?”

[Gestures to collar.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “I’m afraid it is a security measure.”

SCP-9122: “I didn’t mean to hurt those people.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I know, 9122. I know. You don’t need to convince me.”

SCP-9122: …

SCP-9122: “There is another thing that's been bothering me.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Oh?”

SCP-9122: “I really want to go back home. Are you guys close to fixing my pendant?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I’m afraid the substance used to power it has yet to be found or recreated.”

SCP-9122: “Oh…”

Dr. Clawthorne: “But don’t worry! We are hard at work. Trust me.”

SCP-9122, smiles softly: “Okay.”

…

Dr. Clawthorne: “SCP-9122?”

SCP-9122: “I’m sorry. I just… I just really miss my friend.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Do you mean Matt?”

SCP-9122: “Yeah! I really miss him.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Tell me what he’s like.”

SCP-9122: “Very stubborn and hardheaded. But, and promise not to tell him I said this…”

[Dr. Clawthorne mimes the action of zipping her lips.]

SCP-9122: “…he’s actually kind of a sweetheart. He was the first fae my age who actually gave me the time of day. He didn’t treat me any differently for only being half fae. The only one would actually listen to me ramble about humanity. He was the best.”

End of Log

SCP-9122’s request for a return to the woods where names are void is currently being discussed. 

Incident log:

12/06/2022 

12:07 a.m.

[SCP-9122 is seen in its containment cell, sleeping in its bed. Outside the containment cell, Dr. [DATA CORRUPTED]³ is seen walking towards SCP-9122’s cell door. Dr. [DATA CORRUPTED] punches in a five-digit code and opens the electronic locked door. SCP-9122 startles awake and asks what’s going on. Dr. [DATA CORRUPTED] smiles and flickers slightly. The facade of Dr. [DATA CORRUPTED] dissolves and in its place is an adolescent male fae with boar tusks, boar’s tail, and a single horn on their forehead. SCP-9122 jumps up in excitement, runs over, and embraces the intruder. SCP-9122 questions how the intruder entered the facility and the intruder takes out a metal pendant, similar in appearance to SCP-9122-1. The intruder takes SCP-9122’s hand and leaves the cell.]

[A containment breach alarm is activated and security personnel are notified. Site-99 goes on lock down. SCP-9122 and the intruder race down the halls, looking for exits. They see security personnel approach and duck behind a corner. Security personnel pass by and the two continue their search for an exit.]

[The two eventually make their way to the cargo bay and sneak out through one of the entrances. The two make it out of the facility and proceed to run but are impeded by shots being fired near their feet by on-site security personnel.]

[Security personnel attempt to surround the two and prepare to apprehend the intruder and SCP-9122. Suddenly, the intruder raises his hands and uses geomancy to move the bare earth around them. The earth is launched at the personnel at high velocities, knocking some down and injuring others. The intruder then constructs a large, stone arm and fist and uses it to swipe at and beat personnel. SCP-9122 aids the intruder by providing illusions to deceive and distract personnel. Site Director Faust gives the order for deadly force and to eliminate the intruder.]

[As the chaos ensues, a sniper is placed on the roof of the site and aims towards SCP-9122 and the intruder's direction.]

[There is a lull in the assault as more personnel are called. The intruder builds a large wall separating the personnel and itself and SCP-9122. The sniper is still able to get a clear line of sight.]

[The intruder rests momentarily before checking on SCP-9122. There is a look of concern on their face. SCP-9122 appears to reassure them. The intruder grabs SCP-9122’s hand and begins to lead it forward. The intruder turns and gives a smile to SCP-9122 as the sniper delivers a direct shot to the intruder’s head.]

[The intruder momentarily wobbles forward, before falling into the arms of SCP-9122. Blue blood flows out from the exit left by the bullet. SCP-9122 appears to momentarily be in shock before collapsing on its knees and crying while holding onto the intruder. Blue blood stains SCP-9122’s hands and clothes as it rubs and pats the head of the intruder.]

[Backup personnel arrive as the wall of earth crumbles. They converge on SCP-9122 and the intruder. SCP-9122 eyes begin to glow a deep blue as personnel approach. It then lets out an ear shattering scream as a wave of blue light erupts from it. The light passes over all personnel, who stop in place and grab their heads in pain. Personnel begin to scream, cry, and show confusion as the area around them begins to distort into multiple illusions. The area takes on a non-euclidean shape as multiple scenes play out as if multiple illusions had been stitched together. Illusions seen include men being burned alive, MTF agents being shot and mauled, containment breaches from throughout the year, and distorted, deceased family members of personnel.]

[The illusion breaks as SCP-9122 falls unconscious. Personnel recuperate and secure SCP-9122. Security also acquired the pendant the intruder had held. The glass chamber had been broken.]

End of Log.

The body of the intruder was taken in for the post-mortem removal of the bile sac for further study. Bile sac was successfully removed and the body was incinerated. 

Interview:

Interviewer: Dr. Lilith Clawthorne 

Interviewee: SCP-9122

Begin Log: 

[SCP-9122 is seen shaking in its chair as Dr. Clawthorne arrives. Dr. Clawthorne runs and embraces SCP-9122 who is temporarily stunned, but violently pushes Dr. Clawthorne off of it as it glares at her.]

[Dr. Clawthorne pauses, composes herself, and begins the interview.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “SCP-9122, are you alright? I heard what happened.”

SCP-9122: …

Dr. Clawthorne: “SCP-9122, please talk to me so that-.”

SCP-9122: “Shut up.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Excuse me?”

SCP-9122: “Don’t you dare pretend you actually care.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I do care, SCP-9122.”

SCP-9122: [scoffs.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Try to help me understand. What exactly happened?”

SCP-9122: “I’m sure you have a report on what happened.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I want to hear it from you.”

SCP-9122: …

Dr. Clawthorne: “SCP-9122, I’m sure- I know what you went through was traumatic and I’m so sorry, but-”

SCP-9122: “DOES SORRY BRING MY BEST FRIEND BACK!?”

[Silence.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “SCP-9122, we don’t have to continue if you don’t want-.”

SCP-9122: “No! You know what? I actually do want to tell you. I want you to know what they did.”

“Matt had come to rescue me. He stole a key from one of the Elders, hopped through a portal and went searching. It took him awhile, but he found me.”

“I was so happy when I saw him I could hardly contain myself. We ran through the facility and tried to get to somewhere safe. Then your guards attacked. We defended ourselves. That’s probably not even the word you used in your report, is it?”

[Dr. Clawthorne shifts in her seat.]

SCP-9122: “Thought so. Anyway, me and Matt used our magic to defend ourselves. It was mostly Matt. Illusions aren’t traditional offensive, so I just tried to shroud us and provide distractions.”

“We were able to beat most of them, but Matt needed a minute to catch his breath. I checked on him, but he said he was fine. He’d always been stubborn. He held my hand and we were going to go home. I was so happy and relieved.”

...

“And then you shot him.”

...

“I still remember the sound. It lasted a split-second, but I remember it clearly. The wet, crunching sound of a skull shattering and brain matter being pierced.”

“Next thing I know, I’m holding my dead friend in my arms. I was so angry, so devastated. It felt like I lost everything in a single second.”

“I took it out on them. I wanted to make them suffer. To make them feel what I felt.”

…

“It felt like hell”

Dr. Clawthorne: “9122, I am so, so sorry. I understand the pain you are going through.”

SCP-9122: “No you don’t!”

[Silence]

SCP-9122:  “I understand why they hate you now. I should’ve listened to the elders. I should’ve listened to the stories more closely. I should’ve stayed curious. I had hope for you. I thought you would be better. But you’re not. This is a place where hope dies and cruelty thrives .”

“I offered you an olive branch and you clasped me in iron. I told you of my world and you clasped my throat. I saw the light in my friend’s eyes go out because of your metal and fire. At least the Yeren were cruel because they didn’t know any better. But you had history. You had all the context and you still chose cruelty. You aren’t misunderstood. You’re monsters who look like people.”

End of Log

Proposal: Return SCP-9122 to the home of the fallen Star Children.

Status: DENIED

Reasoning: Due to traumatizing events that SCP-9122 has experienced and its new attitude towards humanity, we believe that returning SCP-9122 could cause great harm to human-fae relations and would make the entities in the whispering, wandering woods more hostile towards Foundation operatives. The Ethics Committee has also stated that returning SCP-9122 to the place where names hide with it having no family members or companions to go back home to could greatly negatively affect its psyche even further. 

Until further notice, SCP-9122 is to stay in Foundation custody and is to attend one on one and group therapy sessions to help its mental health. 

Containment Cell Video Log:

[SCP-9122 is seen sitting in the center of its cell, knees to its chest. In front of it, an illusion is formed displaying a female humanoid with Capra aegagrus hircus characteristics, a man with dark skin and glasses, and a fae male adolescent. ]

[The group of illusions surround SCP-9122 and embrace it. SCP-9122 attempts to embrace back, but its arms simply move through the constructs.]

[It softly cries as the constructs slowly dissipate.]

…

The boy sat in his chamber, forever to be imprisoned. The whimsy and brightness of his soul was now gone. All that was left was a black, inky darkness. No warmth. No joy. Just sadness and hatred.

Why did they do this to him? Why did those monsters in people’s skin take away his joy? He had done nothing.

Their names tasted of bile and sour pus on his tongue. His throat burned trying to force them out. How could he be so easily deceived?

This isn’t how the story is supposed to go. In the stories of the stars, the heroes prevailed over the creatures of the night and the creatures would sink back into the chasm of darkness from whence they came. He was not a villain. So why do they treat him like one? Why do they keep him away from the only place he has ever considered a home?

The least he could do was to make sure they couldn’t enter his home, at least not as easily. He had broken the glass chamber in Matt’s pendant key. 

He wasn’t thinking clearly. It was his only way out, he shouldn’t have made such a rash decision. But as he saw the life of the eyes of his friend slowly fade, he thought of the other kids. The other fae in his home. 

They were cruel to him, yes. But they didn’t deserve to die at the hands of… them.

He curls into himself on his bed below the sheets. He prays. It’s all he can do.

“Lady Titania, goddess of the stars, the Moon, and motherhood, please forgive me. Forgive my ignorance. I did not know. I did not know what they would be like. I should’ve listened to my elders.”

He sniffles.

“Please allow Matt safe passage to the After. Don’t punish him for my mistakes. Please. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

His tears stain his pillow

“Lady Gaia, goddess of the Earth, nature, and the elements, please accept Matt’s body into the Earth. Let him nurture and feed you and your flowers and your trees. Please do this, so that I may feel his presence even if he is not truly near me.”

He pauses. His brow furrows.

“Lady Mab, goddess of the hunt, war, and vengeance, I beg of you. Unleash hell upon these monsters. Drag them deep within the Earth so that they may finally be of use and feed this world. Make them pay for every single drop of fae blood they have spilled.”

His anger and sadness combine and his screams echo within his chamber.

…

Lilith Clawthorne was a woman on a warpath, swiftly walking down the halls to the site director’s office, anger boiling in her.

“Ma’am please! The site director is very busy. I can schedule you an appointment for a later date just don’t-.”

Lilith almost threw the door off its hinges as she opened it. In front of her sat Site Director Faust, a middle-aged, bitter man who was going over paperwork.

“Hello, Dr. Clawthorne. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The secretary, who did not get paid enough, quickly came behind Lilith, flustered.

“I’m so sorry, site director. I tried to stop her, but she just wouldn’t listen to-.” Faust raises a hand and his secretary shuts right up.

“That is alright, Christopher. I can handle this myself. Go back to your station. This won’t take long.”

The secretary, looking defeated, gave a nod and shuffled out of the office. As soon as he left, Lilith shut the door behind him.

“Now what can I help you with, Dr. Clawthorne?”

“What the hell was that?”

“I know. My new secretary does lack a bit of a spine. I’ll have to meet with him about that later.”

Lilith goes over and slams her hand on Faust’s desk. “You know what I’m talking about. Why did you allow deadly force to be used on SCP-9122’s friend?”

“It was a dangerous Eshu-Class anomaly that stole and erased the name of one of our researchers. Do you think that didn’t warrant a strong reaction?”

Lilith brow furrows. “He was just a child for god’s sake! Not some deadly monster.”

“It.” Faust said absolutely.

“Oh don’t start that bullshit with me.”

“Language, Dr. Clawthorne.”

She was going to lose it.

“Dr. Clawthorne, what do you suggest we should’ve done? Talk to it nicely? Open the doors to the site nice and wide for it? You of all people should know how dangerous these things can be.”

She tenses up, but steadies herself. “Have you seen 9122 since the breach?”

“I’m a very busy man.”

She rolls her eyes. “Well I have. And you know what I saw? I didn’t see some dangerous anomaly. I saw a scared child who just lost his best friend. He hates us and I don’t blame him. I would hate us too. When that boy came in, his eyes were bright and filled with wonder. Now their eyes are cold and dead. How are we helping these children? Honestly. Because as far as I see, we’re just making things worse.”

Silence.

Faust readjust his glasses.

“Ah, you’re done. Good. Dr. Clawthorne, you have worked with us for over a decade now and you do very good work. Honestly you’re one of our top doctors on site. I would’ve expected you to understand what we do here by now. Our jobs are to study and contain unnatural objects from the world. It doesn’t matter if they look innocent. An anomaly is an anomaly. We need to do whatever is necessary to contain these threats. What do you think would’ve happened if those fae had escaped? You think they would just forgive and forget? No. They would spread word. They would make a volatile anomaly even more of a risk. And I don’t like risks. We are to continue operations as normal and if you don’t like how we do things, leave. But I don’t think you want to do that, so my advice to you is to grin and bear it and leave the moral questions to the Ethics Committee. Do I make myself clear?”

“But-!”

He gives her a stern look. She looks down in defeat. She sighs.

“Understood.”

“Good. Now would you please leave me so I can continue with my work.”

She turns to leave.

“Oh, and Dr. Clawthorne.”

She turns.

“Work on your diction. We use ‘it’, not ‘he.’ Make sure to remember that.”

She gives a fake smile and nods.

She returns to her office completely defeated. She walks to her desk with her terminal. She looks at the stack of paperwork and files piling on her desk. Work she couldn't focus on. She sighs. She grips her desk so tight that she can hear it start to creak. 

She sees the picture of her and her sister. Both smiling without a care.

“You aren’t misunderstood. You’re monsters who look like people.”

“-my advice to you is to grin and bear it.”

Her rage boils over and she punches her desk, splintering the wood and leaving her knuckles bloodied. 

"Dammit. God dammit."

Chapter Text

“Oi! Kid, ya ready?”

Vee turned to Duo, the two-faced clown. He was using his mean face that showed off an overly exaggerated expression of anger. 

“Get ya head outta the clouds! Ya betta not screw this up. Cause God knows I ain’t taking the blame.” His head twists 180 degrees.

“Just wanna make sure you’re prepared, sweetie.” His happy face’s voice was a lot more gentle. Almost motherly.

She nods.

His head turns back. “Good. Don’t want ya breaking down on us again. All cryin’ and snivelin’. Annoyin’ as hell!” 

He moves to his position. She sees his second face give her a reassuring smile.

She made sure to cry her eyes out beforehand. Her bosses I’ll give you something to cry about rang through her head.

The crowd was loud and obnoxious. Cheering and laughing in an unbearable cacophony.

Just focus on yourself, Vee. No one else.

Her stomach lurches.

No, no. You can get sick after. 

Puking on her fellow performers will just earn her another beating. Mr. Fuller had just gotten a new whip and she knew he was just looking for an excuse to break it in on her. 

She checks her face in a full length mirror. The skin pattern on her face resembling clown makeup was perfect. Did her face look uneven? Her body was long and lean, perfect for acrobatics and stunt work. Did she look a little chubby? She made her skin layer have the appearance of a colorful, frilly clown suit. She doesn’t think she wears it well. Not having to waste makeup and costumes on her was a big plus for the ringmaster. 

She hears the announcer.

“NOW LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. BOYS, GIRLS, AND EVERYTHING ELSE IN BETWEEN. I’D LIKE TO PRESENT TO YOU OUR STUNNING, STUPENDOUS ASSORTMENT OF CLOWNS! THEY’LL MAKE YOU LAUGH! THEY’LL MAKE YOU CRY! THEY’LL MAKE YOU SCREAM! ARE YOU READY?”

The crowd goes absolutely ballistic. They’ve probably had their fill of cotton candy. Sugar rushing through their brains. Always a sure fire way to get them going. Some people might get strokes or a heart attack but that was a price Mr. Fuller was willing to pay. 

“I THOUGHT SO! ALL RIGHT, BOYS! BRING ‘EM OUT!!!”

She breathes in deep and gets ready to put on a hell of a performance. 

She has to.

…

Item #: SCP-9733

Object Class: Euclid Thaumiel 

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-9733 is to be contained in a modified humanoid containment cell containing basic amenities: bed, closet, bathroom, desk; as well as heat lamps.

SCP-9733 is to be monitored during meal times. High calorie nutritional shakes and supplements mixed with artificial thaumaturgic energy are to be included in all of SCP-9733’s meals. SCP-9733’s mental state and physical health are to be monitored.

SCP-9733 is to undergo testing and analysis every two weeks. All shed skins originating from SCP-9733 are to be analyzed and stored in bio storage locker 2A.

There absolutely cannot be any imagery/music relating to the circus in the presence of SCP-9733. 

Description: SCP-9733 is a reptilian-like, metamorph, or, shapeshifter. SCP-9733's default form resembles a serpentine body with two humanoid arms, a round face with an upturned nose, and a long tail ending with fins in place of legs. SCP-9733 will ‘stand’ at a height of 162 cm with the full body measuring to a length of 212 cm. SCP-9733 is swamp-green in color, possessing cream-colored scales on its underbelly and bottom half of its face. SCP-9733 possesses tufts of ‘hair’ on its head, back, and ears navy-blue in color. SCP-9733 eyes are large with gold yellow pupils and aqua sclera and do not possess eyelids, instead possessing a layer of scales over each eye similar to snakes. 

SCP-9733’s body is covered in multiple scars and burns. Scars seem to have been administered through a whipping implement while the burns seem to be a combination of exposure to open flame and from cigarette/cigar burns.

SCP-9733 possesses the ability to shift its physical form to mimic the appearance of any human or animal. This mimicry is near perfect, with the only noticeable indicator being its pupil color will not change, staying its usual gold yellow color.

SCP-9733 will undergo a metamorphosis-like transition when attempting to mimic another individual subsisting in multiple parts.

1. SCP-9733 will begin to violently convulse, similar to a seizure. SCP-9733 will collapse and become inert for 10 seconds before abruptly becoming active again.
2. SCP-9733’s hair, nails, and teeth will begin to tear and fall off.
3. SCP-9733’s bone structure will begin to rapidly change and shift, with movement being seen under the skin. Full reconfigurement being achieved in 10 seconds. 
4. SCP-9733’s tail will split into two, creating a basis for bipedal legs when mimicking a humanoid or creating a basis for quadrupedal legs when mimicking an animal.
5. SCP-9733’s back will “unzip” displaying its dermis and spinal cord. SCP-9733 will begin to violently rip and tear out of its old skin, sometimes leaving the old skin mostly whole or tearing out small sheets of skin.
6. SCP-9733, after leaving its old skin, will appear fully skinned. This lasts for approximately 5 seconds. 
7. New skin, hair, and nails will begin to rapidly grow over SCP-9733.
8. SCP-9733 will grow excess skin to mimic clothing, even being able to change the pigments of its skin being used, similar to a chameleon.
9. SCP-9733’s transformation process will become fully complete with the entire process lasting approximately 1 minute.

Any scarring on SCP-9733’s original, default skin will reappear after transforming back. While the subject's appearance and height will change, the subject's weight will not. 

Along with its default appearance, SCP-9733 will frequently take the form of a baseline, adolescent female. SCP-9733 will use this form to “blend in” when in Veiled public and to increase movement speed with its new legs rather than moving in a slithering manner when in its default form. 

SCP-9733 requires basic concentration/effort when transforming and its form will begin to break down when emotionally distressed. 

SCP-9733 also possesses the ability to absorb thaumaturgic energy, or mana, from an anomalous, living subject or inanimate object. This is shown through strings of light-blue energy being siphoned from a subject. This process will lead the targeted individual in a weakened state, needing long hours of rest to recuperate. This is SCP-9733’s main form of obtaining sustenance, but SCP-9733 can also obtain sustenance by physically consuming an animal or object. The former is used more frequently due to convenience and as a way for individuals to rest and gain back thaumaturgic energy to be absorbed and consumed at a later date. 

SCP-9733 speaks a multitude of languages including English, Spanish, Japanese, Mandarin, German, and Russian, with rudimentary knowledge of French, Indonesian, and Fae languages. 

Discovery: SCP-9733 was discovered after increasing reports of animals foraging through trash receptacles and sightings of “abnormal reptiles” in the rural area of [REDACTED], Connecticut. MTF Epsilon-6 (“Village Idiots”) was deployed to investigate. This led the team in discovering SCP-9733 taking refuge in the local sewer system, having gathered discarded food items from trash receptacles for sustenance. 

SCP-9733 was sedated and later taken to Site-99 for containment. 

Interview: 

Interviewer: Dr. Clawthorne

Interviewee: SCP-9733

Begin Log:

[Dr. Clawthorne enters the interview room. SCP-9733 is seen sitting at the interview table with its hands folded on its lap and its head looking down. It is slightly startled by the sound of the door.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Hello there. I am Dr. Clawthorne. I will be your interviewer for today. Before we begin, I should ask…”

[Dr. Clawthorne sits at the opposite end of the table facing SCP-9733, who is still avoiding eye contact.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “How are you feeling? I want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

SCP-9733: …

Dr. Clawthorne: “If you aren’t up for an interview today, that's no problem. We can move it to a later date until you properly readjust to your new living situation.”

SCP-9733, meekly: “I think I’m fine talking today, ma’am.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Very good. Now can you tell me what you were doing when we found you?”

SCP-9733: “The sewers were an easy place for me to hide out. I would usually stick to the large tunnels leading towards them where people would be least likely to be.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “And did you originate from these tunnels?”

SCP-9733: “…No.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Can you tell me where then?”

SCP-9733: “Please don’t take me back to them.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Don’t take you back to who?”

SCP-9733: “The circus. If Mr. Fuller finds out I ran away, he’ll…”

[SCP-9733 begins to hyperventilate.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Calm down, 9733. We aren’t going to take you back to where you originate from if it gives you stress. Please breathe.”

[SCP-9733 begins to calm down.]

SCP-9733: “Really?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Really. Now can you tell me more about this circus?”

SCP-9733: “I don’t really know where to start.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Start at the beginning. As far back as you can remember.”

SCP-9733: “Oh. Okay.”

[SCP-9733 contemplates for several seconds.]

SCP-9733: “I was born in captivity.”

“My parents got sold as pets to some rich assholes when I was 5. I… I’m not even sure if they’re still alive. Not sure they would even recognize me. I spent the next year alone in a cage. It was cold, wet, and dark.”

“I would see people in suits pass by the other enclosures that held other people like me. The people in suits would look us up and down while our handlers would try to market us. I felt like a piece of meat when they described me.”

“Not too loud. Compliant. Does as she’s told.”

“I’d flinch when they said I would be great as a pet or as a… main dish.”

“I saw through the bars two men speaking. One was a man in a big, curly mustache and an obnoxiously red suit and top hat. Like the kind ringmasters wear. They shook hands and next thing I know, I’m being shipped off to the circus.”

“I was in a shipping crate for what felt like hours. The doors swung open and I felt sunlight for the first time. Not heat lamps. Actual sunlight.”

“When I slithered out, I was surrounded by people of all types of shapes and sizes.”

“I saw a tall man with an upside-down face next to the ringmaster. I saw a man whose entire torso was just a skeleton. I saw a woman (women?) with two heads, three legs, and four arms.”

“They stared at me with blank expressions. It felt like they were sizing me up. I don’t think they were impressed with what they saw.”

“The ringmaster introduced me as the newest member of their little “family” and that I would start training soon. I was led to a tent that was better than the cage I used to live in, though that isn’t saying much. It had an actual bed instead of a mat on the ground. It was lit up with fairy lights though some of the bulbs were burnt out. It had a trunk to put all of the nonexistent things I owned in.”

…

“It was horrible. The things they did to me. I-I really don’t want to go back. Please don’t make me go back.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Calm down, 9733. You can rest assured that you are safe with us. We’ll make sure your stay with us is as comfortable as possible. We’ll make sure you never have to go back to them.”

SCP-9733: “O-Okay. Thank you.”

[Dr. Clawthorne stands up and moves towards the interview room door. She opens it and waits for SCP-9733. SCP-9733 remains seated.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “9733? Are you alright?”

SCP-9733: “Yes, ma’am. Why?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “You can get up and go to your room.”

SCP-9733: “Oh. Okay. Thank you.”

[SCP-9733 stands up and slithers to the door. It stops momentarily to stare at Dr. Clawthorne who gives her a warm smile. It gives a meek smile in return and exits the interview room.]

End of Log.

Investigators were able to obtain documentation relating to SCP-9733’s previous areas of dwelling and occupations:

Marshall, Carter, and Dark Ltd Item Listing:

V5OSQ/GY7LS/56SER

Status: Sold

Demand: Medium

Value: 15000 USD for each unit. 

Availability: 3 All units have been sold.

Identifier: Basilisk 

Description: Rare shapeshifting reptiles referred to as “basilisks.’ Makes an excellent exotic pet for one’s child who is interested in the mystical or an excellent dish when prepared by the most skilled of chefs. Skins provide resistance to mana. Units have been broken in and follow orders without question. 

Person of Interest Interview: 

Interviewer: Dr. Flora D’splora

Interviewee: Fredrick Tibbles

Note: Fredrick Tibbles is an employee of Marshall, Carter, and Dark Ltd. who works as an auctioneer and seller of items acquired by Marshall, Carter, and Dark Ltd. 

Begin Log:

Tibbles: “Is this going to take long? I’m a very busy man.”

Dr. D’splora: “You’re a trafficker. You’ll be lucky to see the sun again. But if you cooperate with us and tell us what we want to hear, we might be able to cut you a deal.”

[Tibbles laughs.]

Tibbles: “You think I am that desperate?”

[Silence.]

Tibbles: “Well you’d be correct. What do you want to know?”

Dr. D’splora: “What can you tell us about this item from your employers?”

[Dr. D’splora slides SCP-9733’s item listing towards Tibbles.]

Tibbles: “Ah. The basilisks. Great find. Very rare, you know.”

Dr. D’splora: “Where did you acquire them?”

Tibbles: “Well it wasn’t me specifically. We have a group of specialized hunters that acquire anomalous animals for us. The rarer the better. I nearly spat out my coffee when they told me they were able to find three basilisk. I thought they were extinct, but it was a nice surprise.”

Dr. D’splora, firmly: “Where?”

Tibbles: “I’m getting to that! Impatient. They were discovered in a cave system near some Free Ports. That whole area is teaming with lots of weird things, so it’s usually a good place to go. Griffins, selkidomus’, the occasional ratworm. It’s a great place to hunt.”

Dr. D’splora: “It isn’t a place you should be hunting at all.”

Tibbles: “Oh don’t lecture morals to me. I know the type of things your people get up to. The horror stories this place could tell. Anyway, the basilisks were captured and shipped to one of our holding facilities. We were able to sell the parents almost immediately while we kept the younger one until it could grow large enough. Not enough meat on the bones. Ever had basilisk?”

Dr. D’splora: “Can’t say that I have.”

Tibbles: “Well apparently they’re delicious. We held onto the younger one until we received an offer from our supplier of psychedelic cotton candy. Was willing to pay full price for an adolescent. Thought he was crazy. But hey, one less mouth to feed in the facility.”

Dr. D’splora: “And this supplier's name?”

Tibbles: “Herman Fuller. Cruel bastard but apparently he has an eye for talent. And I guess he saw it.

End of Log

Fredrick Tibbles was questioned further and was placed on monitored house arrest.

Poster Recovered:

Now presenting the Mystical, Metamorphic Mimic!!

Watch this rambunctious reptilian’s shape shift into a multitude of forms! Man. Woman. Human. Animal. There is no limit to what this curious creature can become! 

She ain’t just a one trick pony either. Watch her perform death defying stunts as she plunges from great heights into deadly rings of fire and astonishing acrobatics!

Not only that! We’re offering a sale on any skins shed during performances! Take a piece of the Mystical, Metamorphic Mimic back home with you! Don’t worry. She has plenty to go around! 

Find her and more! Only at Herman Fuller’s Circus of the Disquieting!

Interview:

Interviewer: Dr. Clawthorne

Interviewee: SCP-9733

Begin Log:

Dr. Clawthorne: “Can you tell me more about the circus?”

SCP-9733: “We traveled all over the world. I saw a new little piece of the world every day. I even learned some languages on the way. Though it was less because I wanted to and more that I had to. A performer who can’t interact with the audience doesn’t go very far. Mr. Fuller made that very clear.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “And your relationship with this Mr. Fuller?”

SCP-9733: …

[SCP-9733 seems uncomfortable.]

SCP-9733: “He treated us badly. Would beat us if we messed up even slightly. Would yell and say horrible things. He would make me feel so… so scared. Scared and worthless.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “He sounds like an awful person.”

SCP-9733: “Anytime I got emotional before a show, or just didn’t want to do the show, he and some of his hired muscle would force feed me clown milk.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Clown milk?”

SCP-9733: “It was horrible. It made me… happy, but the happiness felt wrong. Artificial. My face would smile so wide that it felt like it was going to rip apart. My mind was in a daze. I wouldn’t remember anything that would happen during those shows. It was all just a multicolored blur. After the show was over, I would just keep giggling and giggling like a mad person. Then the handlers would… make me stop. When I woke up, my entire body ached. I would puke my guts out and it would be black, shiny, and viscous. I could see my reflection in it and saw the bruises on my face.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I’m glad you’re away from that now.”

SCP-9733: “Heh. I’m just glad I don’t have to milk the clowns anymore. They can be… scary. My tent was usually next to theirs. I would hear laughing and… squelching all night long.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “How did you escape?”

SCP-9733: “One day I just couldn’t take it anymore. I… didn’t think things through. I just needed a way to get out. Fuller always had his guard clowns pertroling the campgrounds, just waiting to snatch up and tear into a runaway. I needed a distraction. I took a couple canisters of kerosene that we used for fire stunts and doused our supply tent. The whole thing went up in flames in seconds. All the performers ran out of their tents and I snuck out in the commotion. Last thing I heard was Fuller cursing up a storm and ordering the clowns to put out the fire.”

…

“I didn’t know it would spread that much, I swear. As the fire grew, I just kept running and running as fast as I could. Eventually, I hopped a train and rode it for a couple hours until I was in [REDACTED]. Haven’t looked back since.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “That’s quite a lot.”

SCP-9733: “Yeah. Not sure they know I’m still alive. I hope they don’t find out I did it. Everyday I’m scared I’m going to wake up and see Fuller’s hired muscle leering over me and take me back to him.”

[EXTRANEOUS DIALOGUE REMOVED]

Dr. Clawthorne: “What exactly would you do in these performances?”

SCP-9733: “I did a little bit of everything. Acrobatics, comedy routines, stunts. My main gimmick was my transformations. I would shift into an audience member or a fellow performer. With performers we would do this sort of mirror act where I would mimic all their movements. Do dance routines. The audience loved it.”

“Though sometimes I was told I had to amp up my acts. Get more grotesque and wild with my transformations. I told them that there was only so much I could do.”

“I got pushed to my limit everyday and just got told to keep going. The show must go on, they would say. How I felt didn’t matter.”

[EXTRANEOUS DIALOGUE REMOVED]

SCP-9733: “Fuller, he’d always complain about my weight. About how some of the performers complained about lifting my ‘fatass’ and how I was going to literally drag them down. He’d end up cutting my meals and making me do extra practice exercises.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “That’s horrible.”

SCP-9733: “I’m pretty sure I’m below the weight I’m supposed to be for a basilisk my age. I’m not an expert on basilisk biology, mainly because there’s not a lot of information out there. We’re very rare, apparently.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I’m sure we can get you back to a healthy weight.”

SCP-9733: “T-Thanks. I’ve always had issues with my weight. I remember when I would starve myself to make myself lose weight faster. The faster I lost it, the faster the complaints would stop, and I wouldn’t get the… motivation from the ringmaster.”

SCP-9733: …

Dr. Clawthorne: “9733?”

SCP-9733: “It’s funny. I can change my shape any way I want, but I almost never feel comfortable in my own skin. I… hated the way I looked. I saw how people reacted when they saw the real me. How their faces twisted in disgust. They would cheer when they saw me shift but they still wouldn’t dare touch my hand.”

“I’ve heard that people go to freak shows to make them feel better about themselves. “I might not look the best, but at least I don’t look like that.” Anything to make themselves feel better. It didn’t matter how many cheers I got. The people shouting “freak” always seemed the loudest. “

“I tried talking to the other performers about this. To see if they felt the same. They told me to screw off. I guess they’ve been doing this for a while so they don’t act like… self conscious teenagers. Maybe I should just suck it up. Grow thicker skin. Metaphorically.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I can guarantee you won’t be called anything like that while you’re with us.”

[SCP-9733 smiles. It stares at its reflection in the two way mirror. It frowns.]

SCP-9733: “I just wished I felt normal in my own skin.”

End of Log

Incident Event Log:

On 07/09/22, a containment breach occurred with SCP-[REDACTED]. SCP-[REDACTED] rampaged across the site, killing researchers and damaging the site as a whole. Researchers were told to barricade themselves in their offices and all anomalies were to be contained in their containment cells. SCP-9733 was out of its containment cell during this time and had encountered SCP-[REDACTED]. SCP-9733, in self-defense, used its thaumaturgic draining abilities on the anomaly. The charging anomaly became weakened and began to slow down on its onslaught before collapsing from severe fatigue. Site security detained SCP-[REDACTED] and the anomaly was declared as properly contained. 

End of Event Log

Based on how effective SCP-9733’s thaumaturgic draining abilities were in halting containment breaches, Site Director Faust proposed utilizing its abilities in aiding in improving containment, mainly improving SRA (Scranton Reality Anchor) technology and in the creation of an artificial Reality Sink.

Project Proposal: Utilize SCP-9733’s thaumaturgic draining abilities to aid in the study and development of SRA’s (Scranton Reality Anchor) and RS’s (Reality Sink).

Reasoning: Halting the abilities of anomalies would be incredibly beneficial for the Foundation and its containment efforts. SRA technology needs to constantly improve in order to contain increasingly powerful reality benders. 

Furthermore, research on SCP-9733’s abilities could aid in the creation of an artificial Reality Sink, a usually naturally occurring object that slowly drains the abilities from an anomaly, eventually neutralizing the abilities permanently.

Project Status: APPROVED. 

Testing Log:

SCP-9733 was instructed to drain the thaumaturgic energy from several low level anomalous items in containment.

Anomalous Item: A set of dice that always land on snake eyes.

Result: SCP-9733 drained the thaumaturgic energy from the anomalous item. The dice, when rolled, produced various results with the chance of rolling a snake's eyes being in the standard probability of 2.78%.

Anomalous Item: A notebook that contains approximately 3,285 pages of paper but appears as a standard notebook that would only be able to hold 200 pages.

Result: After draining the thaumaturgic energy from the anomalous item, the notebook burst from the excess paper, its bindings not being able to hold it. Researchers suffered minor paper cuts.

[EXTRANEOUS TESTS REMOVED]

Total # of Tests: [DATA REDACTED]

Note: SCP-9733 was notably nauseous after testing and vomited twice. Vomit was light blue in color and was bagged and sent to bio analysis. Analysis showed strong readings of thaumaturgic energy.

Afterword: Overall test results: After studying SCP-9733’s abilities and being able to recreate, researchers were able to progress the creation of numerous SRA’s, slightly improving the performance of all SRA’s produced. Research and development of an artificial Reality Sink is ongoing. Further testing and study of SCP-9733’s abilities are to be ongoing. Future testing on official SCP classified objects is currently being discussed. 

Furthermore, analysis of SCP-9733’s shed skin showed it to display medium resistance to thaumaturgy and thaumaturgic based offense. Utilization of shed skins in the development and manufacturing of field operative gear currently being discussed.

End of Testing Log.

SCP-9733 designation has now been changed to Thaumiel. 

On 12/01/22, SCP-9733 was placed in the on-site med bay to be monitored and given fluids and nourishment via intravenous feeding after collapsing and falling unconscious due to malnutrition 

It was later discovered that SCP-9733 was purging the excess mana through forced vomiting. Examinations of the mouth, throat, and body showed damage from excess vomiting. 

Damage included:

• Inflamed gums
• Damage to the esophagus 
• Severe dehydration 
• Muscle weakness 
• Damaged enamel (Despite SCP-9733 being able to regrow lost teeth during its metamorphosis’, regrowth and strength still depends on nutritional intake.)

SCP-9733 has also obtained severe mental issues following testing. Mental issues include:

• Body Dysmorphic Disorder
• Depression 
• Bulimia and other eating disorders 
• Anxiety
• Avoidance of mirrors
• Mood swings 

SCP-9733 has shown an aversion to food and eating, resulting in a dramatic decrease in its weight over the last few months. Below is a list of weights from physical examinations 

200 lbs/91 kg

197 lbs/89 kg

190 lbs/86.2 kg

Start of testing:

197 lbs/89 kg

207 lbs/94 kg

213 lbs/97 kg

219 lbs/99 kg

• Note: SCP-9733 showed mild distress after the examination. SCP-9733 started producing large sheets of loose skin over its frame as if to cover it. 

219 lbs/99 kg

• Note: SCP-9733 did not leave its containment cell for the rest of the day.

219 lbs/99 kg

215 lbs/98 kg

201 lbs/91 kg

• Note: SCP-9733’s voice was notably strained during its examination.

188 lbs/85 kg

176 lbs/80 kg

170 lbs/77 kg

159 lbs/72 kg

150 lbs/68 kg

• Note: SCP-9733 was noticeably weak and light-headed during its examination.

148 lbs/67 kg

140 lbs/64 kg

Interview:

Interviewer: Dr. Lilith Clawthorne 

Interviewee: SCP-9733

Begin Log:

[SCP-9733 sits up in its hospital bed. It picks at the skin on its fingers.]

[Dr. Clawthorne enters the room, knocking twice on the door frame.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Knock, knock.”

[SCP-9733’s gazes at Dr. Clawthorne and slightly smiles.]

SCP-9733: “Hi, Dr. Clawthorne, ma’am.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Just wanted to check up on you. Heard you took quite a fall.”

SCP-9733: “Oh. Yeah, I did. Heh.”

[Dr. Clawthorne sits to the side of SCP-9733.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “9733, can you tell me why you haven’t been eating?”

[SCP-9733 shifts uncomfortably.]

SCP-9733: “W-What do you mean?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “9733, I’ve seen the medical report. You’re showing signs of malnourishment.”

SCP-9733: “I haven’t been hungry.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “9733…”

[SCP-9733 starts to speak but hesitates.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “If you don’t want to talk about it now, we don’t have to but-.”

SCP-9733: “I felt guilty.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Hmm?”

SCP-9733: “Remember when I told you about how Mr. Fuller would call me mean things and hurt me when it came to my weight?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I do.”

SCP-9733: “Well every time I gained even just a pound, he would lay into me. Said I didn’t care about the performance and my fellow performers. That I was making them look bad. That they have a reputation and I was just going to drag them into the mud.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “9733, we’ve talked about this. Everything he said was not true. He only said that to hurt you.”

SCP-9733: “Well it worked. Anytime I eat too much or gain weight I start to freak out. It feels like I’m doing something bad. Like I’m a failure for not having basic discipline. God, I don’t even like the way I look. Nothing ever feels right. I never feel right. I hate looking in the mirror and seeing all my imperfections gaze back at me. I just feel wrong all the time and when I have to eat and eat all that magic and feel it pile inside me, I just feel gross. It’s gross and I just want it out of me. I hate what I have to do. I want to stop but I don’t want to let anyone down. And I hate it. I hate…”

[SCP-9733 falls silent.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “9733?”

[SCP-9733 remained silent for the rest of the interview.]

End of Log

SCP-9733 was in the med bay for three weeks until it was allowed release. SCP-9733 was officially diagnosed with bulimia and body dysmorphia on 12/24/22. 

Incident Log:

12/27/22

SCP-9733’s Containment Cell

9:02 p.m.

[SCP-9733 is seen in its containment cell, frantically slithering back and forth, grabbing its skull. The room is in disrepair, furniture being upturned and scattered. It begins to hyperventilate and bolts to its bathroom. Dry heaving is heard for five minutes. Sound temporarily ceases for three minutes. The sound of flesh tearing is heard over a duration of fifteen minutes. SCP-9733 is heard screaming and weeping. Its voice sounds distorted, as if multiple voices are speaking at the same time. The sound of glass shattering is heard and the door to the bathroom is forcefully shut.]

[Security personnel are called and within two minutes, arrive at SCP-9733's containment cell. Security personnel knock on the door to the bathroom and firmly ask SCP-9733 to open the door.]

[There is no response.]

[Dr. Clawthorne arrives and moves personnel away. She places her ear to the door.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “9733? Are you alright?”

[There is no response.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “9733 we believe you are having a traumatic episode. Can you please unlock the door so we can gauge your mental condition?”

[There is no response. Dr. Clawthorne slightly moves her foot and a squelching sound is heard. She looks down to see she is partially standing on torn flesh. She panics temporarily but then recomposes herself.]

Guard: “That’s it. I’m breaking the door down.”

[Dr. Clawthorne turns to the security personnel, wielding a serious look.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Wait! Just wait.”

[Dr. Clawthorne turns back to the door. She rests her forehead on the door.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “9733, please open the door. We just want to help. If you don’t, we’ll have to break the door down. We need to make sure you’re not hurting yourself. Please. You can just unlock it and I’ll open it. I’ll be gentle. I promise.”

[Seconds pass. Security personnel begin to move toward the door before the sound of the door becoming unlocked is heard. Dr. Clawthorne gives a signal to personnel to tell them to wait. She gently opens the door.]

[The bathroom light is flickering. The mirror above the sink is shattered. On the ground, shattered mirror shards and multiple shed skins litter the floor. The appearance of the skins vary. Skins show features resembling multiple genders and races. Some whole, some torn to pieces. Some are thin built, some are large built, and some are of average build. The faces on almost all the skins are damaged, as if scratched off.]

[SCP-9733 is seen sitting in the far corner of the bathroom. Its tail is curled and close to its chest and its head is bowed down. It holds a large glass shard in its right hand, the knuckles of which seem bloodied. It is shaking slightly and muttering incoherently to itself.]

[Dr. Clawthorne gently and carefully approaches SCP-9733. She speaks in a soft tone of voice.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “9733? Are you okay?”

[SCP-9733 gives no response, though it does stir slightly. Dr. Clawthorne slowly makes her way to SCP-9733, avoiding stepping on any skins. Dr. Clawthorne moves next to SCP-9733 and sits down.]

Dr. Clawthorne, gently: “SCP-9733, can you give me that glass?”

[SCP-9733 gives no response but drops the glass shard. Dr. Clawthorne moves the glass shard away from the reaching distance of SCP-9733 to prevent it grabbing it again.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “There we go. 9733? Can you look at me?”

[SCP-9733 slowly turns its face towards Dr. Clawthorne. It had been crying and biting its lip hard enough to draw blood. Its face slightly shifts. It speaks, its voice strained and hoarse.]

SCP-9733: “I-I couldn’t get it right. Nothing felt right. All wrong. It feels all wrong. Wrong. Wrong!”

[SCP-9733 begins to hit the sides of its head repeatedly. SCP-9733’s face begins to bulge, as if its bone structure is reconfiguring. It shakes, screams, and begins to violently tear at its face. Dr. Clawthorne tries to get SCP-9733 to stop, grabbing its arms.]

SCP-9733: “Stop! Please stop.”

[SCP-9733’s face tears and ‘blossoms’ over and over, again and again, its face shifting each time. It shifts through multiple faces: Dr. Clawthorne, Dr. Bump, multiple security personnel, multiple members of Village Idiots. Its voice is layered, multiple voices overlapping each other.]

SCP-9733: “Nononononono!”

Dr. Clawthorne: “9733-…Vee. Listen to me. You don’t need to be anyone else. You don’t need to fit anyone’s standards. You are beautiful just the way you are.

[SCP-9733’s shifting begins to slow.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “I’m sorry about what we’ve done to you. I’m going to fix this. I promise you.”

[SCP-9733 eventually shifts back to its default form.]

SCP-9733: “I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I’ll be better. I promise.”

[Dr. Clawthorne embraces SCP-9733 as it softly cries. Dr. Clawthorne begins to cry as well.]

[Security personnel enter the room to take SCP-9733 to the med bay. It is still crying.]

[Dr. Clawthorne stays on the ground for over a minute. She stands, seeming lightheaded. She eventually leaves SCP-9733’s containment cell and goes to a nearby restroom where she promptly vomits and continues crying for ten minutes.]

End of Log

All shed skins from this event were obtained and taken to bio storage for study.

Dr. Clawthorne was offered two weeks of paid leave due to mental strain, but Dr. Clawthorne declined the offer

Proposal: I am formally requesting an end to the  testing of SCP-9733’s thaumaturgic draining abilities. This testing has done nothing but severely damage SCP-9733’s mental condition and its view of itself. Whatever we can gain from this testing is not worth ruining its mental health and self confidence. - Dr. Lilith Clawthorne 

Status: DENIED

Reasoning: SCP-9733’s abilities are deemed too much of an asset to the Foundation and ceasing all testing could result in damage to future containment efforts. The amount of testing will be lowered but not halted completely. SCP-9733 is to attend weekly counseling sessions and monthly group therapy sessions. 

SCP-9733 is to be given a modified meal plan to aid its nutritional issues and recovery. 

…

Vee stares at the plate covered in food in front of her. It was a thick, artificial slab of high nutrition and a truck load of calories. She stabs her fork in it and breaks off a piece. She dangles the fork of food in front of her, slightly hesitating. 

She takes a bite. And another. Then another. She’s able to force it down with some difficulty.

That’s more than yesterday. Little victories.

She gazes down at her plate. Most of it is still covered. She grimaces and lays down her fork.

“Finished?”

She looks up at her councilor. She has kind eyes filled with genuine concern. Vee nods.

“You did very well today. Every little bit helps.”

Vee looks in the mirror and sees how visible her ribs are. She sighs. 

The magic inside her feels… wrong. She just wants to purge it out. To feel empty. 

It’s better than feeling bloated 

Are my arms too long? Too short? Did my face always look like this? 

She picks at her skin, picking off small sheets. It’s a compulsion. When she picks off one piece she needs to pick off two and then three. The skin flakes pile on the floor.

Her skin hangs off her. Loose and detached from her grotesque frame. She looks back into the mirror and pokes at all the parts of her she hates the most. Her bloated belly filled with the copious magic she has consumed like a pig with no self control. Her abnormal face with her misshapen skull. Her misshapen and damaged teeth. 

She is so, so hungry. And it hurts. And she is happy. And she is sad. She is disgusting. She is beautiful. She is scared. She is brave. She is herself. She is one. She is many. She is nothing. 

She doesn’t know who or what she’s supposed to be. 

She looks in the mirror one last time. She does not like what stares back at her.

…

Two months later…

Lilith had had a long day. It was a day filled with one too many meetings and mountains of paperwork she did not remember the contents of. Her mother was right. She was a workaholic. She needed a vacation.

…

Ha!

She can sleep when she’s dead.

She pulled into her driveway and gazed at the house that used to belong to her parents. Old and simple. Not too large. Not too small. And it had a layer of nostalgia draped over it that reminded Lilith of better times.

She leaves her car and stretches her back, giving a creak. 

Ok maybe she could ease up on the 12 hour shifts. God knows her back needed the rest.

Therapy for the children was going well. She actually saw them smile. Of course those smiles fell when she and the researchers came into the room and they would stare daggers at them until they left. She expected that, of course.

Amity and Willow got along well. Willow was the first person Amity didn’t seem to want to rip apart in months. Gus actually started talking to people. Granted, he only spoke to those not considered “human” but it was a step in the right direction. Vee was breaking out of her shell, poor girl.

Then there was that other boy-

“Hi Lu-Lu!”

Lilith dropped her house keys in surprise.

I know that shrill voice anywhere.

“Hello, Hooty.”

Her neighbor, Hooty, a large man in a tropical shirt and golden brown hair with scratches on his face, peers over her fence.

“Boy! That job is running you ragged. I barely see you anymore! Don’t tell me you’re getting tired of your good ol’ friend Hooty!”

She smiles warmly. “Of course not, Hootcifer. My job is just very demanding.”

“What do you do anyway? You never say. Is it some kind of secret government stuff?”

“Forgive the cliché, but if I told you, I would have to kill you.”

They share a laugh.

Lilith had lived next to Hooty for years. He was the closest person in her daily life she could consider a friend. She originally thought he was an anomaly based on his odd behavior. Shrieking in the middle of the night, spontaneously sprinting into the woods, having full conversations with the occasional raccoon or squirrel. Turns out, he’s just kinda weird. But she found it endearing.

“What are you doing out here, Hootcifer? The raccoons don’t come out until later.”

“Opossum stole my sandwich. I’ve been chasing it for the last hour.”

“That would explain the scratches. Doubt that sandwich is still edible, though.”

“It’s about the principle! This slight against me won’t go without punishment! There will be BLOOD!”

“That’s nice.”

“There was something else I was supposed to tell you. Ummm. Oh right! Someone was looking for you, Lu-Lu. He was dreeeeamy.~ I didn’t know you had a secret admirer.”

“What are you-?”

“Sandwich thief!”

Hooty quickly turns his head to see an opossum with scratch marks and a look of murder in its eyes. It hisses and scampers into the woods.

Hooty bolts to the woods. “Talk to you later, Lu-Lu! Tell my story!”

Lilith laughs at the absurdity.

She enters her home, kicking off her work shoes.

“Hello, Ellie.” Her pet white raven sat in its cage, preening its wings. It lets out several squawks.

“I missed you, too. Don’t worry, I’m about to refill your seed feeder.”

She opens Ellie’s cage and Ellie immediately bursts out, flying in circles and squeaking loudly.

“Ellie? What’s with you?”

A thump is heard upstairs. She wasn’t expecting guests. She takes out her phone and types in 9-1 and puts it on standby. She goes to a large bookshelf and picks out a thick encyclopedia near the top of the shelf. She opens it. The inside has been hollowed out and a firearm was placed inside.

She takes out the firearm and takes off the safety, making her way to her staircase. Ellie perches on the handrail of the staircase. Lilith gives a shushing motion to her obnoxious pet. It tilts its head. Lilith rolls her eyes and pets Ellie on her head.

She whispers. “Yes, yes. You’re a good alarm. Now stay put.”

She carefully treads up the stairs, taking mind not to make any noise. 

Quiet as a mouse, Lu-Lu.

She hears Hooty raging war against the wildlife outside. She stifles a laugh.

She makes her way to the top of the stairs and turns a corner to a long hallway. All the doors to it being closed except for… there. Her bedroom door near the end of the hallway was slightly ajar. She carefully moves down the hallway, keeping the gun steady and staying cautious of her surroundings. 

This might be a distraction. A way to get me when my back is turned.

She peers behind her. No one. She lets out a relieving exhale.

She’s in front of the door now, gun pointed. She takes another deep breath and kicks the door open, rushing in.

She expected her intruder to be more concerned with having a gun pointed at him, but as he sat at the foot of her bed reading one of her numerous fantasy novels, the only look that appeared on his face was mild boredom.

Hooty was right. He was handsome. And knew how to dress to boot. He had dark-skin, hair tied in a bun, was tall, about 6’5” at least, and had an aura of mystery to him. This man had a story. 

“Took you long enough.” The man’s voice contained mild annoyance and an ounce of sass. He places the novel on Lilith’s bed and slowly stands up, making sure to show his hands the entire time.

“You’ve exactly ten seconds to explain who you are and what you are doing in my house before I call the police.”

He raises an eyebrow and smiles. “Ah, good. You haven’t called anyone yet.”

She squints her eyes and takes a step forward.

“Answer the question.”

“To answer your first question. My name is Darius. Darius Deamonne. Charmed.” He puts his hand forward. She does not accept it. He shrugs.

“And to answer your second question. I’m here to talk.”

Lilith laughs. “And you thought breaking into my house was the best way to do that?”

“Well, I doubt you would’ve let a Chaos Insurgency member into your house.”

Silence.

“You’re Insurgency?”

He nods.

“Well that makes things a whole lot easier. I just need to kneecap you and have a MTF out here in five minutes to hall you off.”

“It would be odd if you didn’t. But I think you’ll want to listen to what I have to say.”

“What could you possibly have to say to me?”

“We both want the same thing.”

She raises an eyebrow.

Darius sighs. “I want my boy back.”

Chapter Text

Luz Noceda took vulture culture very seriously. Disposable gloves to handle bones and fresh meat, trash bags to hold and carry her finds, hand sanitizer and disinfectant to kill any lingering germs, small knives and tweezers to peel off any rotting flesh, Vaseline to rub under her nose to dispel any of the more putrid smells she encountered (the musky smell of rotting flesh can only be appealing for so long), and a small med kit just in case she got scratched or cut when exploring the Gravesfield Forest. The girl would gather her finds and take them back to her house, to her mother’s dismay, and would clean and display them onto multiple shelves in her room. The juxtaposition of the magical Good Witch Azura merch next to skulls of raccoons and deer was not lost on her, nor her taxidermy projects of her roadkill finds on the side of the highway. Her favorite piece she made, who she affectionately called Chuckles the Highway Chimera, was a Frankenstein-esque combination of a run over raccoon, opossum, and skunk. She even made mini sunglasses that covered the black, dead eyes of each of the animal heads. 

The Gravesfield Forest was her go to spot. She would venture deep into the woods and would always come out with at least a rib or a femur bone. Today, she made a big score. A fully intact, fully decomposed skeleton of a deer. Normally, she’d only be able to find half of the deer, the other half being carried away by scavengers and predators. It even still had its antlers! 

“Oh, you are a beauty!” She picked up the skull to examine it further. She moved the skull and jaw in a speaking motion and spoke in a gruffer voice. Why thank you! My mom always said I was drop-dead gorgeous! “Oh, you! You’re going in my bag.” Wait! No! I’m terrified of the dark! I had a traumatizing childhood experience!  “Too bad! In you go!” Nooooooooo! She made sure to add the echo for dramatic effect. She bagged the rest of the nyctophobic skeleton and was prepared to leave until she heard a groaning sound. She paused, staring down at the bag. “Did you make that noise?” She heard it again along with some slight whimpering. “Hello? Anyone there?” No response. She pulled out one of her biggest knives for protection, 3 inches, and proceeded towards the origin of the sound cautiously. She moves past some of the trees in the dense forest before coming across a ditch.

In the ditch was a boy who looked around her age. He had messy blonde hair, pointed ears, red eyes, and… tactical gear? He was sitting and nursing a wound on his abdomen the best he could. He sucked in air through his teeth when he touched it. “Dammit,” the boy said in frustration and pain. He didn’t notice Luz approaching him until she spoke up.

“Are you alright?” The boy flinched at the voice and drew a combat knife in her direction. Luz keeps her distance.

“Don’t come any closer. I’m warning you.”

“Hey, hey. Relax. I just wanted to see if you needed any help. You look pretty banged up.” The boy narrowed his eyes and gestured at the knife in her hand. She slowly closes it and puts it away in her back pocket. “See? All friends.”

The boy didn’t lower his guard as he tried to adjust himself, cringing in pain.

“Let me help.” She put down the garbage bag she was holding and pulled off her gloves so she could reach into her backpack and pull out her med kit. She shows it to him and he finally acquiesces and lowered his knife. “Thank you.” She rubs her hands with hand sanitizer to clean her hands for her immediate medical procedure. She crouched next to the little soldier and opened the med kit. It was filled with gauze, Good Witch Azura themed bandages, rubbing alcohol, and numbing ointment. She examined the damage. Luckily, the only severe damage she could see was to his abdomen. The rest of his body was only covered in small scratches. It’s strange, she swears the wound kinda smells like… tree sap? It had a sweet aroma to it. She shook her head to focus and took the small bottle of rubbing alcohol from the kid and wetted a cotton ball. “This might sting a little.” She placed the cotton ball on his wound, causing him to cringe in pain and suck air through his teeth. “Sorry.” After disinfecting the area, she moved on to the numbing cream and started to rub small dollops over it. “How’d you end up like this?”

The boy chuckles. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Let me guess,” she gestures to his gear, “Top secret agent stuff?” 

“Something like that.” She finishes rubbing the area, the cream already doing its work. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Still gotta bandage you up.” She puts a gauze pad over the wound and applies pressure to it. She wraps some gauze around his abdomen, securing the pad. “Almost done.” She moves on to his smaller scratches despite his protests that they’re fine and he can manage. Luckily, they only need cleaning and an Azura bandaid to cover them. She places the final bandaid on the scratch on his forehead. “One last thing.” She kisses the two tips of her fingers and presses it to the bandaid. He blushes and looks at her oddly. “Sorry. My mom used to do that to me whenever I got hurt. It helped the pain go away, or at least made it feel like it did. So it's kinda a habit with me now.” She starts to pack up the med kit. 

“Well… thanks. I appreciate it. What’s in that bag?”

“Deer bones.”

“Oh.”

…

The boy tries to get up but slightly falters. Luz puts on her back pack, grabs her bone bag, and puts his arm over her shoulder. “C’mon. I’ll take you to my house. My mom can help with anything else I couldn’t find. She’s a vet but I’m sure there’s some overlap with human medical care.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I’m not gonna leave you here to the buzzards. I’m Luz by the way.”

The boy begins to say something but hesitates. He looks at her curiously as if he’s debating with himself.

“If you don’t want to tell me your name it’s-.”

“Hunter. My name is Hunter.”

…

Item #: SCP-9500

Object Class : Euclid Neutralized 

Special Containment Procedure : SCP-9500 is to be contained in a standard humanoid containment cell with basic furnishings and standard entertainment material. SCP-9500 is to be interviewed about its past and connection to the Chaos Insurgency once every two weeks. SCP-9500 is to attend personal therapy and group therapy sessions as part of the Foundation’s Anomalous Youth Healing Program. 

Researchers are to be as noninvasive as possible when interacting with SCP-9500 with minimal physical contact.

Update: As of 05/05/23, SCP-9500 is assumed neutralized. This file is to be kept as a reference. 

Description: SCP-9500 is an artificial, adolescent soldier created by the Chaos Insurgency. Besides minor outward deviations (red irises, pointed ears, facial and bodily scarring) SCP-9500 appearance is that of a baseline human male, 16 years of age.

SCP-9500 also possesses a sigil imprinted on its right wrist. Said sigil is that of a winged sword pointed downward in front of a triangle. When asked about it, SCP-9500 replied that it was a “mark of ownership”. 

SCP-9500’s body is composed of multiple anomalous materials including:

• Palistrom wood: a wood grown from Palistrom trees, an anomalous plant that when its wood is carved in the shapes of animals, said animals will become mobile 

• Galderstone: a gemstone used to enhance thaumaturgy which acts as SCP-9500’s heart/power source.

• Parts of multiple anomalous animals including Selkidomus and Stonesleepers.
• Fibrous plant roots in place of veins and a sugary substance in place of blood. 

SCP-9500 is reclusive and rarely speaks to researchers. SCP-9500 is prone to lash out when asked about its past. 

Update: Since being placed in the AYHP, SCP-9500 has become more cooperative and willing to divulge information.

Interview:

Interviewer: Dr. Warren Wrath

Interviewee: SCP-9500

Begin Log: 

Dr. Wrath: “Now can you tell me about what you were doing?”

SCP-9500: “[EXPLETIVE REMOVED] off.”

Dr. Wrath: “Alright.”

[EXTRANEOUS DIALOGUE REMOVED]

End of Log

SCP-9500 did not cooperate with researchers and gave similar responses like the one above for the remainder of the interview.

SCP-9500 has not brought up anything regarding its past and is shown to be secretive. It seems that all that SCP-9500 wishes to discuss is the whereabouts of a girl who apparently kept it hidden from Foundation operatives. 

It has stated that it does not care what happens to it, but wishes for us to not hurt the girl it calls ‘Luz’.  

 - Dr. Clawthorne

I don’t really see the point of giving this thing a full SCP classification. It’s a Chaos Insurgency agent. At best it should be given an intense interrogation and placed in D-Class. At worst it should be terminated.

• Director Faust

I believe that would be unnecessary. I believe we can gain more from SCP-9500 if we used a more gentle approach with it during its stay with us and it exhibits enough anomalous traits to be fully classified and catalogued. I don’t want to be unnecessarily cruel. 

• Dr. Clawthorne

Fine. But if this causes any problems, it’s on YOU.

• Director Faust

…

“I think I’m fine walking on my own now.”

The two make their way to just outside of Luz’s home. It hadn’t been that long of a trek to her house since she lived so close to the forest already. Even with that, Hunter noticed Luz struggling to lift him, her backpack, and her bag of cervine bones. 

The girl protested. “Oh no you don’t, mister. You can’t hide those aches from me.”

Hunter sighs. “I’m fine, really. I’m just bruised and cut up a little. I can manage walking a couple of feet.”

The girl narrows her eyes but acquiesces, letting the boy stand on his own two feet. “Thank you.” The boy moved and immediately regretted it, losing balance and almost falling over. Luz is able to catch him.

“What did I say?” she smiles smugly. He rolls her eyes and lets her carry him to the front door. She sets down her bone bag and turns the knob and opens the door. She shouts inside, startling Hunter. “Mama, I’m home! And I brought company!”

“Is it another two-headed snake? That would be the third one this week.”

“Better! It’s a person!”

Camila walks out from the kitchen. “Oh mija, who did you bring-?” She stops in her tracks and stares at the two. She looks the boy up and down and notices his injuries and goes full mama bear mode. “Oh sweetie, what happened to you? Come, come. Lie down.” She helps Luz bring him over to the couch. He sits down, letting out a sigh of relaxation.

“Let’s get this gear off.” He’s apprehensive but complies, letting them slip his tactical vest and grieves off. He’s left with a long sleeved shirt and pants. Camila scopes out the damage. “Do you mind bringing your shirt up? I want to-.”

“I mind very much.”

She smiles. “Okay. You do just seem to be a little scratched and bruised. Luz, where did you find him?”

“Found him in the woods in a ditch.”

“Hmm. Luz, can you go into my bathroom? I have a cold pack and some painkillers in there he can use.”

“You got it!” She salutes and moves upstairs. Camila moves to a recliner in the living room and sits down. 

“Well, I can honestly say I did not expect my daughter to bring in an injured Insurgency member today.”

Hunter’s eyes go wide and he instinctively reaches to his side to pull out his knife before remembering it was with the rest of his combat gear. Instead, he stares her down cautiously, almost expecting her to pounce with a weapon of her own. “You with the Foundation?”

Camila gives a warm smile. “Former Foundation, actually. I left them a while ago. My morals didn’t exactly agree with them.”

He narrows his eyes. “What are you going to do with me?” He expected the worst. Interrogation, torture, threats of death. 

“Well, first I’m going to make sure you can actually stand on your own two feet. Then I’m going to get you something to eat. You’re probably starving.”

He was. Or at least he was starving for a meal that wasn’t sticks, berries, and the occasional wild rabbit he could catch. 

“Your team is probably looking for you, aren’t they?” 

“They probably think I’m dead and my coms are busted so I can’t even contact them. Not like they’d even answer. I’m considered expendable. Replaceable.” His face scrunches in slight anger. 

Camila walks over to him and attempts to put a hand on his shoulder but he flinches. She reels her hand back and decides to give him a smile instead. “Well, until you figure everything out, you can stay with us. I’ll make up a room for you in the basement.” He looks at her confused. “What’s wrong?”

“Why would you help me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I’m an Insurgent! I’m literally your former organization’s enemy. Hell, most organizations see us as an enemy. I’m dangerous. For all you know, I could be lying through my teeth and planning to betray you or something.”

“Quite a plan to get yourself hurt and lie in a ditch to wait for someone to betray. Very dedicated.”

“The point is that I’m dangerous. Why would you trust me?”

She stares at the boy, her gaze turning to the Azura band-aid on his forehead. She smiles. “Let’s just say I have a good feeling about you.” She walks away. “I’ll set up your room.” He looks at her with complete confusion. When she’s out of his eyesight, she sighs. “Porque mi hija esta intetesada en los chicos malos pero tristes?"

…

Addendum:

On 12/30/2022, Camila Noceda, former Foundation employee and current manager of the Connecticut location of Wilson’s Wildlife Solutions, entered the surrounding area of Site-99. Ms. Noceda would not leave until she met with a high-ranking member of site staff to demand SCP-9500’s release. Ms. Noceda was in the process of being escorted off the premises before Dr. Clawthorne allowed a meeting between the two.

Begin Log: 

Camila: “Do you mind telling me why my daughter and her friend were chased by foundation agents and also why those said agents kidnapped her friend?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Ms. Noceda. The boy your daughter was with has connections to a dangerous group. It was imperative that we retrieved him by any means necessary. I apologize for any mental strain we put on your daughter”

Camila: “¡Dios mío, this is exactly why I quit the Foundation!”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Camila..”

Camila : “Don’t you dare Camila me, Dr. Clawthorne .”

[Dr. Clawthorne sighs.]

Dr. Clawthorne:  “What do you want me to say? I’m sorry? Well I truly am. I wish we didn’t have to do things like this, but we do. We don’t gain any sick pleasure from it. No matter what you think. This is for the greater good.”

Camila: “The greater good! Is that what you’re still telling yourself?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “How did you even find us? Our agents make sure not to leave a trace.”

Camila: “Protocol states that a newly discovered anomaly is to be taken to the nearest site. Site-99 is the closest site in the area from where Hunter was taken.”

[Camila slams her hand on the desk.]

Camila: “And don’t change the subject. How dare you kidnap my daughter’s friend.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I know you didn’t just come here to lecture me about our ethics. You want something.”

Camila: …

[Camila sighs.]

Camila: “Luz wants to see Hunter.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Camil- Ms. Noceda. I just can’t have your daughter waltz in here to visit her friend.”

Camila: “Why not? You’re not going to let him go. The least you could do is give her some peace of mind.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Ms. Noceda, you and your daughter housed an agent belonging to a hostile group of interest. If it wasn’t for our past work relationship, I would have had you and your daughter amnesticized and we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. You are far from making demands here.”

Camila: “You’re horrible.”

[Camila turns to leave. She’s almost out the door before Dr. Clawthorne pipes up.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “But, perhaps we can make a deal.”

Camila: “A deal?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “We are having some trouble getting 9500 to talk about its past. We believe it could possess intimate knowledge related to the Insurgency, but it does not trust us.”

“There is a program being prepared that would allow anomalous adolescents to interact with each other. A way to combat depression and other mental illnesses that can arise from prolonged containment.”

[Dr. Clawthorne takes out a file filled with multiple documents. She hands it to Camila and she flips it open. The words ‘ANOMALOUS YOUTH HEALING PROGRAM’ are printed on the first page.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “We will allow your daughter weekly visits and recreation time with 9500 during this. I believe this will build a level of trust and comfort for 9500 and allow it to be more open with us. She can even interact with the other children we have contained.”

[Camila noticeably tenses up when Dr. Clawthorne says ‘contained.’]

Dr. Clawthorne: “It involves group therapy, bonding exercises, encouraged interaction, and recreational activities. Anything to make them feel safe and comfortable.”

[Camila narrows her eyes.]

Camila: “Did Faust agree to this?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Yes, actually. He’s given the full green light because he believes it would help the anomalies.”

[Camila raises her eyebrow and Dr. Clawthorne sighs.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Okay, I was able to convince him that less depressed and traumatized anomalies would lead to less containment breaches and would save on resources.”

Camila: “It’s always about saving resources and reducing costs and never about actually helping these kids-.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “No harm will come to her, the boy, or the other children. They will be monitored to make sure everyone is safe. You have my word. Deal or no deal. Choose now, Ms. Noceda.”

Camila: …

[Camila takes a deep breath and exhales.]

Camila: “Fine. As long as Luz gets to see him and if it gives him peace while in here, then fine.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Thank you, Ms. Noceda. We’ll contact you on further details later. We already have your contact info.”

Camila: “I know.”

[Camila turns back to leave.]

Camila: “You didn’t even have the decency to call him Hunter.”

[She leaves . Dr. Clawthorne sighs.]

End of Log

…

“I can’t believe your mom has to drive this far out of town to get to her job.”

Hunter steps out of the car onto the parking lot of Camila’s work. A large building with the words “Wilson’s Wildlife Solutions! Animal Rehabilitation and Conservation Center” branded at the front. Cartoon animals surround the words. Behind the building, Hunter is able to see several other buildings. Some appear to be large stables while others appear to be greenhouses.

“It’s a pretty big place. They needed the space to make sure all types of animals could be housed.”

As the three walk, Camila is greeted by multiple employees, giving pleasant hello’s in return. The three of them walk into the lobby and they hear someone shout at them.

“Hey, Luz! Hey, Miss Noceda! Hey, blonde boy with eye bags!” A teenager walks towards the group. They are in light brown cargo shorts and a green t-shirt reading ‘WWS’ at the front. They have short black hair and light skin. They are wearing a name badge with the name ‘Masha’ on it and below the name are the words ‘They/Them’ in non-binary colors. They have an aura of coolness and mellowness to them. Luz gives an excited wave.

“Hunter, this is Masha. They’re one of the best handlers here.”

“Oh, c’mon. I’m not that good. I’ve only been working here for a year.”

“And you’ve done exceedingly well while here. Oh! Masha, dear, can you show Hunter around? He wanted to do some volunteering and I need to take care of some things in my office.”

They give a salute and wink. “No problem, Ms. Noceda! I’ll show him the ropes.”

“Thank you. Oh, and he’s allowed to see the ‘backrooms’” Camila gives Masha a wink. They rub their hands.

“Oh, yeah! We’re gonna get weird. Come with me.”

The three walk and turn a corner to a short hallway with a door that says ‘push to enter.’ Hunter suddenly gets really uncomfortable while he stares at it.

“Does anyone else feel weird?”

“Oh, I forgot this is your first time,” Luz replies.

“It’s weird. Like, I know it’s there but I just want to ignore it and move on.”

“Yeah, that’s how it is with those not in the know. Just focus a little bit more.”

He concentrates, trying to focus on the door that screams ‘Don’t look at me!’. He starts to go cross eyed and he gets a mild pain in his head until…

It’s like a mental block is removed. Instead of shunning at disgust at the door, he can see it fully.

“Got it?”

“Yeah. Why do you need an antimemetic door anyway?”

“Oh, is that what it’s called? Well, here at WWS, besides taking care of “regular” animals, we also take care of animals that are very… unique and they need to be hidden for their safety.”

They open the door and Hunter feels like he’s walked into a whole other world. Inside are multiple enclosures holding a variety of ‘unique’ animals and their handlers. He sees the back half of a cat walking as if it was completely fine and not bisected, a group of mandrakes getting watered by a caretaker while they cheer in happiness, an ominous, floating eye literally sucking up words from a book while it hums in a way that Hunter assumes is happiness, a dog with green fur and flowers growing on its back sunbathing, a duo of hodags play wrestling, and what appears to be a decomposing fish skeleton , but then Hunter sees that it swims like it’s still alive. He sees critters of different shapes, sizes, and species all with their own unique quirks.

“Welcome to Wilson’s Wildlife Solutions!”

“Woah.”

“I know, right? Come on!” Luz grabs him by the wrist and walks him through the floor. The floating eye notices them and turns its gaze to them.

“Hi, Ivan! Eating lots of tasty knowledge today?” The floating, ominous eye moves down to the girl. Hunter puts up his guard but it proves to be unnecessary as the eye nuzzles Luz’s cheek.

“Aww. I missed you too, buddy! Psst! I’ll sneak you some extra, tasty pages from a math textbook when no one’s looking.” Luz gives a wink to the eye and it winks, or maybe just blinks regularly, in return.

Masha saunters over. “Ivan got cleared by the supervisors. He can stay with us full time.”

“That’s great!”

“Who’s the supervisors?”

Masha looked at Hunter with a confused look. “Y’know, the skippers. I’m sorry, I thought Camila would’ve told you already.”

Hunter immediately tenses up.

“You guys work with the Foundation!?” Hunter noticeably becomes more cautious, stepping in front of Luz as if to protect her from Masha.

“Relax, Hunter. They’re very hands off and rarely, if ever, come here personally. God knows Camila wishes they would just mind their own business. They only come here if there is anything we can’t handle and we can handle a lot I assure you. They ran some tests on Ivan to see if he did anything bad with the information he gathered. Turns out, he’s just really hungry for knowledge. Isn’t that right?”

Masha begins petting and nuzzling the eye, earning more joyful noises from it.

“How can you be so lax about that? You can’t trust them.”

“Don’t get me wrong. If they cause problems or try to hurt the critters, we give them hell. “

Luz reassures, “Hunter, it’s fine, really. We’re completely safe here.” She rests her hand on his shoulder for comfort. It eases him, her being here. 

“I mean, I guess it’s fine. Just give me a heads up on whether or not they come over. I don't want to take any chances with-. What’s so funny?”

Luz and Masha are stifling their laughter. Luz points to the top of his head. 

The boy looks to see a red, avian head pop its head from the top of his head.

“Ah! Get off!”

“Aw! Flapjack likes you!”

“Flapjack?”

“He’s one of our critters. He’s been here for a looooong time. Ever since they’ve opened. I’ve never seen take up with someone that quickly”

The cardinal flaps around the boys head excitingly, Hunter swatting at the bird in the process

“Well, can you tell him my hair is not a nest?”

He lands on his shoulder. He sighs.

“Looks like you got a passenger. C’mon, I’ll show you around more.”

Hunter goes with Masha and Luz, still swatting at Flapjack to leave him alone. The avian refuses to listen and keeps either landing on his shoulder and nesting in his hair and playing with the hair noodle that would always poke its way to the front. 

Hunter spent the next few weeks volunteering. He thought it would be a nice way to repay Camila for all her kindness. Kindness that he did not deserve. He cleaned ectoplasm from ghost critters, slept near the bakus so they could nibble on his dreams, helped herd a group of velociraptors, watered the Cu Siths, and played table tennis with Karey the Kraken. And everywhere he went, Flapjack wasn’t far behind. Always nuzzling up on his shoulder or resting in his hair. Hunter didn’t even fight it anymore. 

“I guess you are kinda cute.”

.

“You should work here full time. You’re great with the animals,” Luz said, waving bye to the critters and Masha as the two went through the door at the end of the day. Hunter could see Flapjack cocking his head to see him off. He gave a wave in return.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I did that well.”

“Hunter, trust me. You’d be perfect here.”

“Okay, maybe I’ll give it some thought. It’s been nice having something to do and I definitely don’t want to just sit around the house all day.”

“Yay!”

Hunter smiles. It really had been nice.

…

After the signing of multiple NDA’s, approval forms, and documents stating the Foundation takes no responsibility for any maiming, disintegration, disfigurement, concept erasure, and general dangers of death, Luz Noceda was granted visitation rights towards SCP-9500. She is to be permitted two visits per week under supervision of one security personnel and is allowed interaction with other anomalies in SCP-9500’s group therapy sessions. 

Recorded Interaction:

Begin Log:

[Luz Noceda is pacing back and forth nervously in the visiting center. She keeps looking back at the clock . The sound of a door is heard opening and she quickly snaps her head in its direction.]

Luz: “Hunter!”

[SCP-9500 is brought into the visiting center by an accompanying guard. Luz runs and tackles it into an embrace.]

Luz: “I missed you so much! Did you miss me?”

[SCP-9500 blushes and looks away.]

SCP-9500: “…Maybe.”

Luz: “I know that face! That’s your ‘I’m feeling a lot of emotions right now so I’m gonna try to look tough to hide it’ face.”

[SCP-9500 relents.]

SCP-9500: “Alright! I missed you a lot.”

Luz: “Knew it!”

Guard: “Ma’am, could you please step away from the anomaly until all safety checks have-“

[Luz hisses at the guard.]

Guard: “Ah!”

[The guard keeps his distance. Luz cups SCP-9500’s face.]

Luz: “Oh my gosh! Are you okay? They haven’t hurt you, have they?”

SCP-9500: “I might have been handled a bit… roughly.”

Luz: “Oh wait til Mami hears about this. She’s going to give them hell.”

SCP-9500: “I really don’t want to cause any more problems for you two.”

Luz: “Hunter. No more ‘I’m a burden’ talk. We’ve talked about this.”

[SCP-9500 chuckles.]

SCP-9500: “Sorry.”

[30 minutes pass.]

Luz: “-and Mami’s been taking good care of Flapjack. He’s been getting as many worms and wood chips as he wants.”

SCP-9500: “Glad he’s being spoiled.”

[Luz rests her hand on SCP-9500’s hand.]

Luz: “I’m really happy you’re okay. I’ve been worried sick.”

SCP-9500: “Sorry.”

[Luz glares at SCP-9500.]

SCP-9500: “Yeah, yeah. No more ‘I’m a burden,’ talk.”

[EXTRANEOUS DIALOGUE REMOVED]

Luz: “So, how bad is it? Be honest.”

SCP-9500: “Slightly better than the Insurgency. Then again, that’s not exactly a high bar. The bar was in hell.”

[Luz laughs.] 

[SCP-9200-5 is seen being escorted by guards to its containment cell in the background. It stops slightly and glances at the two and gives a confused look. Guards push SCP-9200-5 to keep moving. SCP-9200-5 hisses at the guard and continues moving.]

Luz: “Who was that?”

SCP-9500: “Amity. She’s one of the other teenagers I’m in a group with. She… doesn’t really like me.”

Luz: “What did you do?”

SCP-9500: “Nothing!”

[Silence.]

SCP-9500: “Okay, I might’ve accidentally called her a slur.”

Luz: “Hunter!”

SCP-9500: “No one told me I should say Nälkä instead of Sarkite! I learned not to make that mistake again.”

[SCP-9500 rolls its sleeve up to reveal a bite mark on its forearm.]

Luz: “Ouch. Did she do that?”

SCP-9500: “I’m like 60% positive she’s venomous.”

Luz: “So things aren't at the best start.”

SCP-9500: “Could be better. You should meet them, the others in my group.”

Luz: “You think they’d like me?”

SCP-9500: “Who wouldn’t like you? They’d be crazy not to.”

Luz: “Aww! You dork.”

[Luz playfully punches SCP-9500 in the shoulder.] 

[SCP-9500 laughs.]

End of Log  

…

Hunter needed some new clothes. Or, rather, he needed clothes in general. When he arrived at the Noceda’s, the only clothes that he had were the shirt and long pants he’d wear under his tactical gear. The acknowledgment of his lack of extra clothing came from when Camila had to do laundry and Hunter had nothing to wear besides his boxers while he waited for his old clothes to be cleaned. Hunter remembered how embarrassed he was when Luz walked in on him in the laundry room while he was wearing nothing but his boxers. Her complimenting the pattern of stars and spaceships on them did not make his face go any less red. 

Camila offered Hunter some of the old clothes her late husband, Manny, would wear that she still kept, but they proved to be too big for him. Camila had decided she would take the boy and Luz, who wanted to critique his fashion choices, to buy some new clothing so that he wouldn’t accidentally flash the two anymore. They had gone to a thrift clothing store on Hunter’s behest. He didn’t feel comfortable having Camila buying him brand new, average priced clothing when a less costly option was available. Camila had told him that it would be no issue if he wanted to go to the mall to get some fresh, new clothes, but he insisted and she relented.

The thrift store had a sizable collection of clothing. His options felt endless but also minuscule as it was hard to find something in the ocean of clothing that really spoke to him. He remembered that most of the clothing donated was here because the owners had developed better taste and felt embarrassment from their life choices. Tacky t-shirts with outdated wording such as “You Can’t Handle My Swag” or “Gamerz Don’t Die, They Just Respawn!”, parachute pants that definitely should’ve stayed in the 80’s, and shoes that only looked like they were ever worn for church.

Luz was having a better time than him, picking out shirts that said: “Men Fear Me. Women Want Me. Fish are Neutral to Me.” and “I’m Bi and Mad at the Government.” And she was going to criticize his fashion choices?

All he was able to find were some old jeans, sweatpants, and a loose fitting tank top. He was about to check out until he saw them. Hanging on a clothes rack hidden away were t-shirts. But not just any t-shirts. The shirts were all black with all of them carrying a depiction of a wolf on the front. One possessed a wolf snarling its fangs, looking fierce and deadly. Another possessed three wolves howling to a bright moon. Another had an anthropomorphic wolf sitting near a tree and staring out at the sunset. They were… perfect.

Luz came up behind him and noticed the shirts he was gawking at.

“I love these types of shirts. They're so funny. Right, Hunter?”

He didn’t respond.

“Hunter?”

His eyes had gone wide and stared at the shirts in awe 

Luz smiled. “Mom! Hunter wants to buy these shirts!”

Hunter broke out of his trance and remembered where he was. Camila had come over to confirm what Luz had said. “Is that right, Hunter? Do you want to buy those shirts?”

Hunter responded with an excited nod. Camila smiled. “Okay. Do you want to keep looking or do you have everything you need?”

“I have everything I need, ma’am.” Why did he feel embarrassed? He supposed he wasn’t used to, well, being excited about anything, so the sudden feeling was somewhat overwhelming. Him, Camila, and Luz went to check out the clothes they had chosen. 

He was actually able to choose something that he liked. 

A few days later…

“Luz, stop stealing my wolf shirts!” Hunter said firmly.

“You were right! They are cool,” Luz said back, wearing the oversized wolf shirt with pride.

“Then buy your own!”

“But yours are so comfy! I can wear them like pajamas.”

“That's because I’m a size bigger than you. Just buy a bigger size! You don’t need to steal mine specifically!”

“But those shirts aren’t seasoned with an angsty boy smell.”

“Give them back!” He lunged.

“Never!” She ran and he gave chase, following her mischievous laughter. 

…

Interview:

Interviewer: Dr. Clawthorne

Interviewee: SCP-9500

Begin Log:

Dr. Clawthorne: “Okay. Everything is recording. We can now begin. So, first question, how are you feeling?”

SCP-9500: …

SCP-9500: “Are you serious?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “…I see. Well, I suppose we can skip that question. How about instead I ask how you came about around here? Odd to find an Insurgent randomly displaced around this area. Especially since we haven’t recorded any Insurgent activity around here in months.”

SCP-9500: “First, I have a question that needs to be answered.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Go ahead.”

SCP-9500: “The Nocedas. Are they safe? You haven’t done anything to them, have you?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I assure you, we have done nothing harmful to them. Everyone has fully consented to this arrangement. No force. No violence. I promise.”

SCP-9500: “They haven’t done anything wrong.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I know, 9500. Nothing will happen to them. You have my word.”

SCP-9500: …

SCP-9500: “Fine. As long as they’re safe.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Well regardless, I’m happy that you’re willing to talk to us now.”

SCP-9500: “Yeah. Happy.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Now if you could answer the question, please?”

[SCP-9500 sighs.]

SCP-9500: “I messed up.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Elaborate.”

SCP-9500 : “My squad and I were sent out to some old ruins . We heard a lot of rumors of things snatching people. We were tracking… Oh it doesn’t matter. The point was it was deadly and dangerous and my uncle wanted it captured to see if he could… “train” it.”

“We were using this new experimental tech our scientists cooked up. It could make a Way, or portal, to home base in case things went south. Single use only though, so we had to save it for when we really needed it.”

“I’ll skip through the boring bits of us just wandering around until we found something. Things went south pretty quick. Darius got knocked unconscious by the thing we were trying to track and I was pretty banged up.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Darius?”

SCP-9500: “Squad leader. Codename: Bald Eagle. We kinda had a bird motif. I went by Red Cardinal. I didn’t choose it. Darius did. Said it suited me. Whatever that means.”

“Anyways, my team left me for dead and ran off carrying Darius. Leave the brat! they said. I kept yelling at them to help, but I got ignored. So there I was. Injured, terrified, and running for my life from horrifying monsters with no ammo left in my gun.” 

SCP-9500: …

SCP-9500: “I messed up. It was supposed to make a Way to home base. I got in a rush and messed up the input code or maybe it just got banged up in the fight. The point is I ended up in the middle of nowhere with a broken coms and no way to make a new Way. So I was pretty much stranded. I was lucky. I could’ve landed somewhere way worse. Could’ve gotten displaced over an ocean or desert or something.”

“I got a lot of time to think about my situation, wandering and surviving on my own. I thought I would have proved myself by now. That I was worth being kept around, but I guess not.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “And you eventually made your way to the Noceda home?”

SCP-9500: “More like Luz dragged me, but yeah.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Can you tell me what led to you being detained by us?”

SCP-9500: “One of the animals from Camila’s work got out of its enclosure. One of the hodags, Butterscotch. They think she ran off into the nearby woods when they let her out for enrichment time. Squeezed through a torn hole in the fence.”

“Now, despite their appearance, hodags are mostly docile. They don’t attack without reason. We were more afraid of someone going to hurt her than afraid of her hurting someone else. She’s a sweetheart.”

“So a lot of us volunteers fanned out. Me and Luz asked around Gravesfield if they’ve seen any strange things lately. We heard rumors of some “monster” rustling and digging through the trash of some businesses. I guess you heard the rumors too.”

[SCP-9500 gives a look to Dr. Clawthorne and the two security personnel behind her.]

SCP-9500: “We started going out at night, following claw marks and emptied out trash cans. We eventually found her downtown in some back alleys. She was frightened and dirty. She looked injured, a gash on her leg. We approached her slowly, giving her some gentle words. She started to move towards us before her head snapped to the side and ran towards us. Luz was able to scoop her up in her arms and she struggled to get out of the hold.”

“Two men turned the corner and started to move towards us. I took one look at them and knew who they were. They wore these suits like they were from Men in Black and I could see their pistols on their sides. I grabbed Luz’s wrist and ran.”

“We got chased through the street and back alleys. I convinced her we should split up and I would draw their attention. She argued against it. She didn’t want to abandon me. She’s sweet like that. But I was able to convince her to run with Butterscotch and hide away.”

“I ambushed the two and put my Insurgency training to work.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “You apparently gave our agents quite the scuffle.”

SCP-9500: “Yeah well, it wasn’t enough. One of them sedated me and I tried to fight it the best I could but eventually I fell unconscious on the pavement.”

“I woke up in a cell with some sore bruises. Thanks for not immediately wiping my memory by the way.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “We noticed some abnormalities with your physiology and we wanted to know what you knew.”

SCP-9500: “Do you know what I was told to do if I ever got captured by enemy forces and there was a high chance of advanced interrogation? Self-termination. Better to die with our secrets intact than to live as a traitorous coward. Even gave me a quick way to do it. Look.”

[SCP-9500 opens its mouth wide and leans closer to Dr. Clawthorne. It is missing its right farthest molar. SCP-9500 leans back.]

SCP-9500: “Had a false molar with a cyanide capsule. All field agents get one.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “And where did yours end up?”

SCP-9500: “Ripped out and flushed down the toilet. Kinda feel bad that I probably poisoned an alligator.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Alligators do not live in the sewers.”

SCP-9500: “Are you sure?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Positive.”

SCP-9500: “Can’t believe the movies lied to me.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Can I ask why you did this?”

[SCP-9500 stares down at the table, smiles and then looks up.]

SCP-9500: “I found a reason to keep living.”

[EXTRANEOUS DIALOGUE REMOVED]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Can you tell me more about Project Geppetto?”

[SCP-9500 is caught off guard and its face shows mild surprise.]

SCP-9500: “It was a project to clone soldiers from dead field agents that were deemed highly valued for their skills. How’d you catch word of it?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “We’ve been doing investigations related to tracking down suspected Insurgent field agents. We started to notice that certain soldiers were still seen in the field despite being assumed K.I.A. We found a connection between them and a supposed project.”

SCP-9500: “Huh. Well, I guess you know what I am, don’t you?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Not human. DNA analysis shows traces of various animals and plant tissue. Odd composition for a… clone? Are you confirming that is what you are?”

SCP-9500: “Grimwalker is the correct term, but I guess you can use clone.

Dr. Clawthorne: “So there are others like you? And they all bear a sigil similar to yours?”

[Dr. Clawthorne gestures to SCP-9500’s wrist. It covers the sigil with its other hand.]

SCP-9500: “Yeah. It’s meant to be a marker used to organize which station or team the Grimwalker was made for. Each sigil is different though. I'm the only one who bears this specific sigil. Usually the marker is on the back of the neck, but mine’s… here.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “What does this sigil mean to you?”

SCP-9500: “Shows who I… belong to.”

Dr. Clawthorne: …

Dr. Clawthorne: “Have you ever tried to remove it?”

SCP-9500: “Yeah, but it’s pretty stuck on here. I remember Luz would draw over it in marker. She’s a really good artist so she made it look less ugly. When I’m older, I’m going to get a tattoo over it. Promised Luz I’d let her design it.”

“I remember I had this “manic episode” once. I got really overwhelmed and emotional. When I saw this, I nearly lost it. I tried to take a knife and… Like I said, it’s pretty stuck on here.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “How many clones of you were made?”

SCP-9500: “There’s only one of me running around. The other Grimwalkers get clones made out by the dozen.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “And what makes you the exception?”

SCP-9500: “It’s because of the person I came from. Someone my uncle really cared about.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Uncle?”

SCP-9500: “High command. He…”

SCP-9500: …

SCP-9500: “I called him uncle. I remember when I learned what the word father was and I called him that once. He… didn't like that, so we settled on uncle. I always looked up to him. Always wanted to earn his praise. Earn his approval. I wanted to hear him say that I did a good job. But when he looked down at me, the only thing I could see in his eyes was… disappointment? Disgust? Like I wasn’t who he wanted me to be.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “So he made it aware that you were a Grimwalker early on? I’d assume he’d want to hide it since I can’t imagine it would be something that would go over well for a young mind.”

SCP-9500 : “Apparently, he did with the first few. But those Grimwalkers came out fully grown with the memories of the person they were based on. He wanted them to be just like… the person I was based on. I think he wanted to pretend everything was normal like the good old days when… Caleb was alive. When he told the clones, I guess it didn’t go over well because he kept having to make more. I asked him about it more and he just said they just weren’t “quite right.” I wanted to question him further, but he just gave me an ice cold glare that made me shut up.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “And what age were you… created?”

SCP-9500: “I was a baby. Guess he thought it was easier to just… start fresh and mold me into what he wanted. After every mistake, he’d always remind me that I was replaceable. That he always had the option to make someone better.”

SCP-9500: …

SCP-9500 : “I remember when he took me to see Caleb. He had a private garden. Only a handful of people even knew about it. In the middle of it was this grand tree covered in multicolored leaves and deep red bark. It was beautiful. Then I saw the face fused into the wood. Then I saw the ribs that extended out. Finally, I saw the still beating heart at its… his center. Philip brought me closer to it and told me who he was. How wonderful he was. How he was the greatest man he had ever known. I asked what happened to him and my uncle just said he was inflicted with a horrible curse by some awful creatures . He’d say he would always go into the garden to remind himself why he does the things he does. To make sure no one else ends up like that.”

“I would try so hard to live up to who I was supposed to be. But it was never good enough. I was never good enough.”

[EXTRANEOUS DIALOGUE REMOVED]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Can you tell me more about this Darius?”

SCP-9500: “Why do you want to know about him?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “The fact you referred to him by his actual name first instead of his field name makes me curious. What was your relationship with him like?”

SCP-9500: “When I turned 12, I was placed to train under him. Sparring sessions, lessons on proper weapon safety, pointers on proper medical treatment in the field. Wherever he went, I went. I could tell he didn’t want to look after some brat. He’d give me glares and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration when I kept asking questions.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Ah. A mentor.”

SCP-9500: “Kinda. I do think he started to warm up to me later on. I remember the first time I made him laugh, I nearly jumped in shock. Didn’t know he could even make that noise.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “So your relationship was overall positive?”

SCP-9500: “I still think he saw me as a nuisance, but he didn’t mind my presence as much as he used to. He was the closest thing I had to a positive role model. He smiled at me once and it felt… genuine? Like there was actual warmth to it. Not like my uncle’s smiles. Those just felt… cold and lifeless. I remember when I hurt myself on a field mission and was patching myself up. I tried to fight the tears as much as I could. He walked up behind me and asked if I needed help. I kept my face down because I didn’t want him to see how… pathetic I was, so I just nodded. He tended to my wound and told me that it was okay to cry. I told him my uncle told me not to and to not cause a scene because it was unsightly. You know what he said? He said: “You’re uncle is incapable of human emotion. You’re 14. Cry if you feel like it.” I always look back to the moment when I’m alone and need a good cry.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Were you able to get into contact with him at any point?”

SCP-9500: “I was tempted. I still had mixed up feelings about whether I actually wanted to return to them. Like I said, I learned I was always disposable. In the end, I decided against it. They probably thought I was dead and sent Darius a new trainee.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “You don’t think he would’ve liked to know you were alive? I’d have to assume after years of working together, a sort of kinship would form.”

SCP-9500: “He was probably sad for a bit, but probably got over it quickly. Pretty sure he was just happy that he didn’t have to deal with me anymore.”

[EXTRANEOUS DIALOGUE REMOVED]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Tell more about this uncle of yours. What’s his name?”

SCP-9500: “He’s only referred to himself as Belos. Just that. I didn’t know people were supposed to have last names until I was 10.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “That’s rather odd. Was he just really secretive about that sort of thing?

SCP-9500 : “I’d say paranoid was a better word. He’d always be odd about names. Always say you need to be careful about who you give them out to. He told me his name tasted wrong . I still don’t know what he meant .”

Dr. Clawthorne: “What was he like?”

SCP-9500: “Controlling, manipulative, always demanding, cruel.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Abusive?”

SCP-9500: “…Yes”

Dr. Clawthorne: “We can move on to another topic if this is uncomfortable for you.”

SCP-9500: “I’m fine to talk, it’s just… I think there was something wrong with him.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Sounds like it”

SCP-9500: “No, I mean physically. He was always sick. He’d groan in the middle of the night, he’d have a smell of rot that always lingered with him. I swear there would be days where he looked like a walking corpse and others where he looked much taller than usual. Pale, gangly, and uneven. He just felt… off. There were times he was too weak to take his special “medicine” so he would make me do it. I’d tilt his head back and help him drink it by bringing a cup of it to its lips. It always worked immediately. “

SCP-9500: …

SCP-9500: “He made me feel so special in those moments. It was one of the few times where it felt like he actually appreciated me. Said I was wonderful for taking care of him. He’d caress my cheek and I would just lean and melt into it. Physical affection was something I almost never received and it felt nice to be useful for once. It felt like, in that moment, he really appreciated me. I know better now. He never cared about me. You don’t do the things he did to people you care about.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Do you know what this “medicine” was?”

SCP-9500 : “It looked just like normal water . I don’t know what made it so special.”

[EXTRANEOUS DIALOGUE REMOVED]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Says here you’ve had trouble sleeping?”

SCP-9500: “I get pretty vivid nightmares sometimes. I always end up waking up screaming. It’s usually the same dream each time. Usually.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Tell me what happens in the dream.”

SCP-9500: …

SCP-9500 : “I’m in a coffin. It is old and wooden. No soft upholstery. I never got that. Why do we give the dead softness and comfort when we know they cannot feel it? To give us comfort? Whatever. The wood is chipped and in every movement I feel splinters stabbing themselves into my back, my arms, and my legs. And it is dark. So damn dark. I put my hand on the… ceiling? I put my hand on the ceiling and I feel rough, vertical lines going down. Scratch marks. I start to panic, even though that’s not what you’re supposed to do. I was trained on what to do if I were to be buried alive. It happens more times than you’d think. Step 1: Don’t panic. Failed, so I moved onto Step 2: Strike the same spot as hard as you can and eventually, the top of the coffin will give way. It takes a while. My knuckles are sore, swollen, and bleeding. I hear the wood begin to creak as it gives way to the weight of dirt and rocks on top, smothering me. I begin to dig. Dirt enters my mouth and I try to cough it up, but more just enters. My fingernails start to chip and break off at how desperately I claw at the soil. It’s suffocating, but I do not asphyxiate. My suffering continues for what feels like hours and when I start to lose all I hope, my hand breaches the surface and overwhelming excitement flows through me. With newfound strength, I claw and pull myself up to the surface, taking in a deep breath that is finally not muffled by the soil. I begin to laugh, and then cry, and laugh again. I fall silent when I see what’s in front of me. Four nubs breaching out of the ground. I go to touch them and they move. Not suddenly, but in a weak, pitiful way. I jump back and then I am aware of my surroundings. Blanketing the ground are dozens of fingers, hands, and arms reaching out of the ground, barely moving. I am in a mass grave. I try to pull the others up but they do not budge. I desperately look for anything to help me. A shovel or something to help me dig them out. I trip on something. I look back and see a nub in the ground. But it is not a finger. It is a nose. I claw at the ground to clear the dirt from his face and when I am done, I see my own face staring back at me. It is cold and rotten and it stares at me with blurry, long dead eyes. His face is frozen in terror. I start to step back, but then feel something grab my foot. A hand. I try to struggle to make him (me?) lose his grip and when I think I come free, another hand shoots up and grabs my leg. Then another. Then another. Soon an uncountable number of hands shoot out from the ground and drag me back into the dirt. I claw into the surrounding soil to try and lift myself up but it is no use. I am dragged back into the cold soil and the last thing I see before I am fully enveloped is the dark night sky, mocking me.”

SCP-9500: …

Dr. Clawthorne: “We can stop here if you want.”

SCP-9500: …

[Dr. Clawthorne reaches towards SCP-9500’s hand. SCP-9500 quickly brings its hand back to itself, avoiding Dr. Clawthorne’s hand.]

End of Log

…

He had a different dream this time.

He’s in a bathroom. It is small and cramped to the point if the door opened inward, it would take up half of the usable space. At least, it would if there was a door. There was no door, no window, no entry of any kind. How did he get in here? How is he going to get out? He hears the drip, drip, drip of the leaky faucet and tries to silence it so he can think, but pauses at what he sees in front of him.

He looks into the mirror but his reflection is not his. The face is sharper and more mature. Flesh a blotchy gray that screams of rot. The eyes are dead, no color or life in them at all. He goes to touch his face to see if the person in the mirror who was not him would mimic his movement. It did. The hand it raised was also gray and partially rotted. Hunter looked at his hand to confirm that it was completely normal. No gray. No rot. Normal. What is wrong with this mirror? He gets startled when he sees that the face's expression has changed from a neutral, emotionless visage to a visage that is dripped with malice and malcontent. And all that hate was directed towards Hunter.

He didn’t do anything. He didn’t harm or kill this imperfect doppelgänger. So, why does it hate him?

He jumps back when the person in the reflection that was not him began to bash its (his?) face into the mirror again, and again, and again, and again until a large, crimson, dripping stain covers most of the mirror. A small, unblemished part of the mirror still shows the duplicate’s rage and anger towards him. Hunter moves to the bathtub to hide and to avoid the face's evil eye. He curls up into a ball and covers his ears to drown out the resumed head bashing noises that came from the mirror. 

It’s okay. It’s okay. It can’t get in here. I’m sa-.

*Crack*

No…

*Crack*

No…!

There is a pause. Hunter, for just the briefest of seconds, thinks that it’s over.

…

Of course, it isn’t.

*CRACK*

*CRACK*

*SHATTER!!*

Sanguine soaked mirror shards burst out and rain down onto the floor, breaking into smaller shards. A hand reaches out from where the mirror used to be and grabs onto the sink. And then another. And finally, the crimson soaked head of his double lurches out. Hundreds of tiny shards of glass pierce its (his?) skin, heavily disfiguring it more. Its head snaps to Hunter sitting in the bathtub and stares at him with his one undamaged eye. It crawls from the opening and practically slithers onto the floor, more mirror shards piercing its body.

Hunter thinks fast and grabs the largest mirror shard he can find nearest to him and attempts to use it to defend himself. The double, now standing, cocks its head with curiosity. It moves closer to him and lurches down. Hunter begins to swing the shard wildly, occasionally cutting a gash into the double. It does not seem to feel pain and if it does, it does not care. It(?) grabs Hunter’s wrist and holds it tight. I(He)t brings the mirror shard to where it’s his mouth would be and makes Hunter begin to carve into the corners of HIS mouth. The sound is nauseating. Wet meat being torn into, skin and muscle sliced deeper and deeper. hunter cannot let go of the shard. He(?) can not stop HIM. 

He lets go of Hunter’s it’s wrist and opens his mouth nice and wide, giving (h)un(t)e(r?) a big smile. He moves the shard to hunters? the thing that does not deserve a name and starts with its eyes. It began to scream as He tore into him the useless sack of false organs starting with the right eye. (Hun) the thing that wouldn't stop screaming (ter???) tried to let go of the mirror shard, but it was as if it was fused to that thing's hand. He (Caleb?) moved on to the left eye, despite the bad copy’s pleading. Caleb presses the mirror shard into the false brother’s eye and the screaming starts again.

Hunter’s screams spill from the dream into his waking life as his body begins to thrash about. He had rolled off his air mattress. He breathes heavily, looking at the ceiling. His body is caked in sweat and he moves his hand to his eyes. He is relieved that they are still there. 

He puts his palm to his mouth and starts to retch, feeling the bile and vomit crawl its way up. He tries to fight and force it down. He fails miserably. He vomits onto the carpeted floor and keeps heaving. His throat feels rough and strands of saliva and bile trickle down from the corners of his mouth. He groans and cries as tears and runny snot pours from his eyes and nose. He pitifully tries to crawl his way back to the air mattress, but gives up, curling himself into a ball on the floor before he softly cries himself back to sleep. 

Before he drifts back into the slumbering void, he says to himself, “I’m Hunter. I’m Hunter. I’m Hunter.”

…

Minor Incident Log:

During a routine bodily exam, SCP-9500 became emotionally distressed, attacking doctors and examiners present. SCP-9500 told doctors and examiners to refrain from touching it. Two security personnel were called to deescalate the situation. SCP-9500 was holding a syringe directed towards personnel before being sedated by security personnel.

Interview:

Interviewer: Dr. Lilith Clawthorne 

Interviewee: SCP-9500

Begin Log: 

Dr. Clawthorne: “Can you tell me what happened?”

SCP-9500: “It’s nothing. I just overreacted.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Quite the overreaction to a routine physical exam. Are you sure nothing happened? Maybe something that triggered a traumatic episode?”

SCP-9500: …

SCP-9500: “I don’t like being touched. During the exam, I had to remove my shirt and I didn’t like the way the examiners were touching my back.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Can I ask why?”

SCP-9500: …

SCP-9500: “I’ve had some bad experiences.”

SCP-9500: …

Dr. Clawthorne: “If you’re not comfortable talking about it, we don’t have to.”

SCP-9500: “It’s fine. I’d rather get this out of the way now to avoid another situation like this later.”

[SCP-9500 takes a calming, deep breath.]

SCP-9500: “During a mission, I was teamed up with one of the members of my squad. We had some downtime and were waiting for further orders. My teammate got… close. Uncomfortably close. They started touching my back, trailing their fingers down my spine. Then they started to…um… they started to [DATA EXPUNGED].”

[Silence.]

SCP-9500: “I started to request more solo missions and excursions after that.”

[Dr. Clawthorne puts her hand to her mouth in shock. She quickly composes herself.]

Dr. Clawthorne : “9500-… Hunter. I am so, so sorry. You did not deserve that.”

SCP-9500: …

Dr. Clawthorne: “Have you ever… told anyone this before?”

[SCP-9500 breathes heavily and closes its eyes tight. It lets out a deep exhale and opens its eyes, fluttering them as if to stop them from tearing up.]

SCP-9500: “I never told Darius what happened. I wanted to spare him the headache. My teammate, Blue Jay, only did it one time. I would make sure we weren’t alone with each other or made sure Darius was close. But he’d always make… comments. Under his breath he thought I couldn’t hear. I would feel his eyes bore into me. I was the only one he ever did it to, I think.”

“Heh. I remembered how much I cried that night. Like more than I usually do. I thought I was going to throw up. I would hug myself to try and feel secure or to ground me. The day after, I had to pretend everything was normal. Same routine.” 

[Silence.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “We can stop here, if you want.”

[SCP-9500 nods. Its hands are balled up into fists and its legs are firmly closed.]

End of Log

All physical exams for SCP-9500 are to be as noninvasive as possible.

…

Hunter didn’t like being touched. Locking up or going in self-defense mode when someone touched his shoulder or grazed his back. He would remember clawed hands gripping around his throat. Horrors bending and twisting around his limbs and waist. People Monsters trying to harm him. Never again. Never again.

He was always on high alert. 

The first few weeks of living at the Noceda’s let him set up some boundaries. He had his own space for once, rather than sharing a barracks with his fellow agents. He wasn’t forced to interact with anyone, not counting Luz’s attempts to start conversations which he didn’t mind that much. All in all, it was a pretty noninvasive environment.

The best thing about living there was the selection of food. When he was at the Insurgency, he was on a very limited diet with very little changes each week. Here he had a variety of meals and snacks to choose from, though he would still only eat what was in his necessary caloric intake and would always choose the healthier choices if given the option. Even still, there were some things he missed, or, at least got used to when it came to the food of the Insurgency. He enjoyed the protein bars they would give as a special sweet treat during his meals if they felt like he deserved one. He walked into the kitchen and pulled out a protein bar from the cabinet that Camila bought specifically for him. He didn’t like asking for things but Camila wanted his stay to be comfortable. He unwraps the protein bar and bites a chunk of it off, savoring the chocolate flavoring. He enjoys his treat until he suddenly feels his hairs stand on end and a presence behind him.

“Guess who!”

Hunter feels the hands on his shoulders as they grip him. His reflexes spring into action and quickly grab the arm of his attacker. 

1. Make sure you have a strong grip on your attacker.
2. Bend both knees and begin to turn your body while shifting the weight of your attacker. Gravity will do the rest.
3. Once your attacker is on the ground, move in close and begin to bend and apply pressure to the arm. If done correctly you should hear a snapping-.

“Hunter!”

He snaps out of his daze and looks down to find a shocked Luz on the ground. He sees how far he got her arm bent and lets go. She gets up and rubs her arm. If he applied any more pressure he would’ve…

He steps back in fear of what he was about to do. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean…” He runs out of the kitchen and out the front door. He looked like he was about to cry. 

“Hunter, wait!” She tries to follow him but when she makes it out the front door, there isn’t even a stray hair of him.

“Where did he…?” She hears mumbling from up above her coming from the roof. 

How did he get up there without a ladder? Right, soldier. He’s probably like an expert acrobat or something.

She grabs a ladder and ascends up to see him sitting on the roof. She hears him mumbling to himself. “Stupid. Stupid. Why can’t you just be fricking normal?” 

“Hunter?”

He flinches.

Luz carefully walks her way towards him and sits beside him. 

“I’m sorry I freaked out back there.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Well, can you at least tell me what I did wrong so that I don’t do it again? You don’t have to say why it was wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me. I’m the thing that's wrong.”

“Hunter…”

“God, why can’t I just be normal about this stuff?”

…

“We don’t have to talk. We can just sit here in silence until you’re ready to come down.”

Hunter says nothing and they stay like that for a few minutes. They see the Sun start to dip down into the horizon.

“I don’t like being touched, okay?”

She thinks back to the kitchen. “Oh, Hunter, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, you didn’t know. So don’t feel bad about it. I’m the one who freaked out.”

“You shouldn’t feel bad about it either. It was an accident.”

“Luz, I almost broke your arm!”

She rubs her arm. A twinge of pain still emanates from it. “Key word: Almost. You didn’t mean it.”

“Luz, you don’t understand! God, even when I’m away from the Insurgency, I still act like a paranoid soldier or like a scared little kid. When you snuck up on me and touched my shoulders, I couldn’t even act normal about it. God, I’m screwed up! Thanks uncle! You got your perfect little soldier. All it cost was their mental stability and trust.” His eyes start to water and his voice starts to strain. His breathing quickens.

“Hunt, calm down. Breathe slowly.”

“If Darius could see me, he’d think I was a fucking disappointment. All those years spent training and you panic when a teenager sneaks up on you? What a disgrace! Wasting all those years on me. Why can’t I just-!”

“Hunter, name five things you can see!”

He looks at her with tear stained eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Just trust me.”

He’s confused but acquiesces. “Fine. Uh… I see houses, this roof, some trees, clouds, the setting Sun. What is this supposed to-?”

“Now four things you can feel.”

“Uh, the wind? The tiles on the roof. My sweater. And… my hair?”

“Now three things you can hear.”

“Okay, uh… leaves rustling, cars going past, the clack of the tiles when I thrum them with my fingers.”

“Now two things you can smell.”

“Fabric softener on my sweater and the hand soap I used to wash my hands. It’s lemon scented.”

“Good. Now one thing you can taste.”

“The chocolate from the protein bar I ate. The kind that you told me tastes like sadness.”

“It does!”

He pauses. “Why… Do I feel better?”

“Little trick my mom used to do when I got over emotional or had panic attacks. It really helps to ground you.”

“Camila’s a really smart lady.”

“She is! You okay now?”

“Yeah. Yeah I think I am.”

“Good.”

She raised her hand and wanted to touch his for comfort, but decided against it. Is this what he needs right now? 

In an attempt to provide some kind of comfort she extends her pinky finger towards him. He looks at it in confusion. 

“I can’t say that I know what you’re going through. I can’t even begin to imagine everything that happened. And I have no right to pry if you don’t want to talk about it. But, I want you to know that if you ever need someone to listen or just have someone near, I’ll be here.”

He stares at her, his expression unreadable. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re my friend and friends support each other, even through the tough times.”

A friend?

He contemplates her words for a brief moment before raising his hand and slowly interlocking his pinky with hers.

“Thank you.”

“Is this alright? Are you okay with just pinkies touching?”

“Yeah. Yeah I think I’m fine.”

They look at the sunset, pinkies still interlocked. 

…

SCP-9500 sent in a number of requests. Requests include:

• Plushies of various animals. Approved.
• Limited internet access. Denied. Update: Approved. Please see: AYHP Chat Logs.
• Science fiction novels. Approved.
• Cell phone. Denied
• Plastic flowers to be sent to SCP-9140. Approved.

…

Hunter sat on the couch, rhythmically moving his head as he listened to music on his phone. The phone was an older model Luz used to own before upgrading. Camila had thought it would be good to give Hunter a way to contact them if they ever got separated and had offered to buy him a brand new phone, but Hunter insisted that he was happy with the older model. 

The music really spoke to him. A story about the unruly chaos that was life and how those in power would stoke the fire of this chaos for their own benefit. How we were all being puppeteered by a malevolent force and how we would not stand idly by as it uses and destroys us. It was extremely profound.

Luz came up behind and asked what he was listening to, causing him to give her his other wireless earbud. Her eyes went wide as she heard the song Discord by TheLivingTombstone playing. Hunter gave her a curious look and had asked her if something was wrong. In response, she hopped the couch and scooted up next to him, telling him to replay the song so they could listen together. He happily did it. The two jammed out to the chaotic music. Luz gave Hunter some other song recommendations that proved to be just as good. He would find himself humming to the songs when doing menial tasks.

“I hope you die in a fire.

Hope you'll be stabbed in the heart.

Hope you'll get shot and expire.

Hope you'll be taken apart.

Hope this is what you desire~.”

…

Notable Recorded Interactions Between AYHP Subjects: 

Location: Site-99 Cafeteria

Subjects: SCP-9140 and SCP-9200-5

Begin Log: 

[SCP-9140 walks to a table where SCP-9200-5 is sitting.]

SCP-9140: “Can I sit here?”

[ SCP-9200-5 gives SCP-9140 a look and shrugs.]

SCP-9200-5: “I won’t stop you.”

[SCP-9140 takes a seat directly in front of SCP-9200-5. It places its lunch tray down.]

SCP-9140: “You’re kinda the only person in here that I know so I figured we could keep each other company.”

[Silence.]

SCP-9140: “So what’s been going on with-?”

SCP-9200-5: “You don’t have to pretend to be my friend.”

SCP-9140: “What?”

[SCP-9200-5 sighs.]

SCP-9200-5: “Look. Just because we have group therapy together, it doesn’t mean we have to interact with each other outside of it.”

SCP-9140: “It’s not that-.”

SCP-9200-5: “And I see how other people look at me. I know all they see is a violent monster. So if you’re just trying to get on my good side-.”

SCP-9140: “I wasn’t trying anything. I just wanted to get to know you better. It’s true we don’t have to be friends, but it would be nice to have someone to talk to. Especially if it’s someone who can relate to what I’m going through.”

SCP-9200-5: “Oh.”

SCP-9140: “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. We can just sit here in silence.”

[The two eat their lunch in silence for several minutes.]

SCP-9200-5: “Who were those guys you walked in with?”

[SCP-9200 gestures to two medical staff sitting at a table near the two.]

SCP-9140: “Med staff. Anywhere I go, two medics have to be near. I’m kinda… “at risk” so they stay near so I don’t try anything.”

SCP-9200-5: “Oh. Shit. Sorry, I didn’t know.”

SCP-9140: “It’s fine, really.”

SCP-9200-5: “I was just wondering why I wasn’t the only one with handlers.”

[SCP-9200-5 points its fork towards two security personnel standing by a wall.]

SCP-9140: “Heh. Guess we both can’t be trusted.”

SCP-9200-5: “Hmm.”

[Silence.]

SCP-9200-5: “Soooo, you’re a Daeva, huh?”

[SCP-9140 abruptly stops eating.]

SCP-9140: “How did you-?”

SCP-9200-5: “The horns and tail for one. And you smell different from the other people in here. I was kinda trained to pick up on stuff like that. “Learn the scent of the blood-crafters so that we may never fall under their subjugation again!”.”

SCP-9140: “What do I smell like?”

SCP-9200-5: “Like… nature? It’s difficult to describe. Like describing color to a blind person. I think it’s like a pheromone type deal.”

SCP-9140: “Huh.”

SCP-9200-5: “I guess… aura would be a better term than smell. When I breathe in and concentrate, I can just feel it.”

SCP-9140: “That’s interesting. So… are you okay with that?”

SCP-9200-5: “Why wouldn’t I be?”

SCP-9140: “Well, judging on history, we probably shouldn’t be getting along.”

SCP-9200-5: “And yet we are. It’s a miracle.”

SCP-9140: “You really don’t have a problem with me being a Daevite?”

SCP-9200-5: “Unless you specifically were responsible for the enslavement of my people, I don’t see why I would have a problem. 9140, was it? Don’t feel guilty for something your ancestors did. You weren’t there.”

SCP-9140: “I guess I was just nervous because you seem more… traditional? I didn’t want there to be any bad blood between us.”

SCP-9200-5: “If my mom knew I was being friendly towards a Daeva, she would skin me alive. That’s not an exaggeration either. She’s actually done that.”

SCP-9140: “That’s horrible.”

SCP-9200-5: “Believe me, I’ve talked about it in length during my mandatory therapy sessions.” 

SCP-9140: “Still, I’m sorry.”

SCP-9200-5: …

SCP-9200-5: “Thanks. What’s your name? Like your real one.”

SCP-9140: “Willow. It’s Willow.”

SCP-9200-5: “Willow. Pretty.”

[SCP-9140 smiles.]

SCP-9200-5: “Oh? What’s that smile for?”

SCP-9140: “Sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve heard another person use my name. It’s just nice to hear.”

SCP-9200-5: “I’ll make sure to say it more often then.”

[SCP-9200-5 extends its hand. Security personnel become cautious. SCP-9200-5 just rolls its eyes.]

SCP-9200-5: “Nice to meet you Willow, I’m Amity.”

[SCP-9140 shakes SCP-9200-5’s hand. Both of them smile.]

End of Log

…

Location: Site-99 Commons Area

Subjects: SCP-9500 and SCP-9200-5

Begin Log:

[SCP-9200-5 is seen sitting alone in the commons area, SCP-9500 walks up to SCP-9200-5.]

SCP-9500: “Eldritch horror.”

SCP-9200-5: “Pinocchio.”

SCP-9500: “Shouldn’t you be locked up tight? It isn’t group therapy today.”

SCP-9200-5: “They’re doing renovations on my cell.”

SCP-9500: “Didn’t think they’d trust you to be here on your own.”

SCP-9200-5: “They don’t.”

[SCP-9200-5 gestures to two guards playing cards in the corner.]

SCP-9200-5: “My wranglers. And also…”

[SCP-9200-5 raises its hands that were hidden under the table. They’re locked in a brace.]

SCP-9500: “Ah.”

SCP-9200-5: “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be sharpening a spoon into a shive?”

SCP-9500: “Ha. I just needed to walk and clear my head. Saw you here and got curious.”

SCP-9200-5: “Hmm.”

[Silence.]

SCP-9500: “Well, I’m uncomfortable so I guess I’ll just-.”

SCP-9200-5: “Did you like being a soldier?”

SCP-9500: “I’m sorry?”

SCP-9200-5: “Did you like it?”

SCP-9500: “What makes you ask?”

SCP-9200-5: “Just curious.”

[SCP-9500 raises an eyebrow. SCP-9200-5 sighs.]

SCP-9200-5: “I was approached by a Doctor and they wondered if I would be interested in field work. Apparently my skills would be highly valued.”

SCP-9500: “What’d you say?”

SCP-9200-5: “I told him to screw off.”

SCP-9500: “Good.”

SCP-9200-5: “Oh? I figured you’d like to see me get my head blown off by some faceless enemy.”

SCP-9500: “Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

SCP-9200-5: “So, you didn’t enjoy it?”

[SCP-9500 sighs.]

SCP-9500: “It gave me purpose. I mean of course it did. It was literally what I was made for. I didn’t know anything else. My entire childhood was eating MRE’s and learning proper stitching techniques for wounds. I saw things I still have nightmares about. I thought the Insurgency was the right path. I thought what we were doing had to be justified. I got used to lying to myself. I faced the truth when I realized I was abandoned. They weren’t my family. I was… disposable.”

SCP-9200-5: “I’m sorry.”

SCP-9500: “Oh god. Did I trauma dump again? Sorry that happens a lot.”

SCP-9200-5: “It’s fine, really. You just made me feel really justified.”

SCP-9500: “I’m glad something else good came from that.”

[Silence.]

SCP-9200-5: “What was the other thing? The other good thing?”

SCP-9500: “I met someone who actually gave a damn about me.”

SCP-9200-5: “Was it that one girl I saw you with? The only person I’ve seen in months that still had lights in her eyes?”

[SCP-9500 smiles.]

SCP-9500: “Yeah. That’s Luz. She’s great.”

SCP-9200-5: “Girlfriend?”

SCP-9500: “Just friends.”

SCP-9200-5: “Makes sense. She’s way too pretty for you.”

SCP-9500: “Ha.”

SCP-9200-5: “Well, I’m glad one of us can get some peace in here.”

SCP-9500: “I can introduce you, if you want. I’ll even introduce Willow, Gus, and Vee. I know for certain she’d love you guys.”

[SCP-9200-5 goes to answer, but is approached by one of its guards.]

SCP-9200-5: “Renovations done? Alright. It was actually nice talking to you, by the way.”

SCP-9500: “Likewise.”

[SCP-9200-5 walks away with its guards.]

SCP-9500: “Hey, Amity.”

SCP-9200-5: “Hmm?”

SCP-9500: “Don’t let this place chain you down. You’re a person. Not a tool.”

[SCP-9200-5 smiles and walks off with its guards.]

End of Log

…

Location: Recreational Center

Subjects: Luz Noceda, SCP-9122, and SCP-9140

Begin Log:

[Luz walks towards SCP-9122 and SCP-9140 sulking in a corner.]

Luz: “Hi!”

SCP-9122: “What do *you* want?”

SCP-9140: “Gus be nice. Sorry he doesn’t really like humans.”

Luz: “Oh.”

SCP-9122: “Most humans. Willow’s fine since she’s only half.”

Luz: “Really? That’s pretty neat.”

[Silence.]

Luz: “Sooooooo. How are you guys doing?”

SCP-9122: “Terrible.”

SCP-9140: “We’ve been better. It’s nice to talk to people though. Most of the time we’re cooped up in our cells.” 

Luz: “I’m sorry to hear that.”

[Silence.]

SCP-9122: “So, you know Hunter?”

Luz: “Yeah! He’s been living at my house for the past few months.”

SCP-9140: “How was that?”

Luz: “Well, he sleeps with a knife under his pillow so I have to be careful when I wake him up. But other than that it’s fine.”

[SCP-9122 laughs. Luz smiles. SCP-9122 looks away.]

Luz: “Sometimes we went to the Wanderer’s Library.”

[SCP-9122 perks up.]

SCP-9122: “You’ve been to the Wanderer’s Library?”

SCP-9140: “What’s that?”

Luz: “It’s this infinite, multidimensional library.”

SCP-9122: “They have every book that has ever been written. Even some that haven’t been written yet. Or even some that will never be written.”

SCP-9140: “How does that work?”

SCP-9122: “I… never really asked. I’ve been there with my dad lots of times.”

Luz: “Wonder why I never saw you? I hang out there all the time.”

SCP-9122: “I’m usually in the science fiction and history sections.”

Luz: “Ah. I’m usually in the fantasy sections. I brought Hunter there once and he was really into the science fiction section, too. One time we brought some stuff over and stayed there overnight.”

SCP-9140: “You can do that?”

Luz: “Yep! They have rooms for people to stay for overnight study and reading sessions. You should’ve seen Hunter’s face when he found out there was only one bed. He wanted to sleep on the floor.”

SCP-9140: “Aw. He got embarrassed.”

Luz: “I said we’ve slept in the same room during sleepovers before. This isn’t any different.”

SCP-9122: “He seems like the type to gasp at seeing an ankle.”

Luz: “Or worse, what if our shoulders touched?”

SCP-9140: “Scandalous!”

[The three share a laugh.]

Luz: “It was fun though.”

SCP-9122: “Did you see the lantern koi? I remember seeing a school of them flying up above me when I was searching the shelves.”

Luz: “We did! They were so pretty! They had this bright, warm, orange glow to them.”

SCP-9122: “The koi I saw glowed a sea blue. Reminded me of the rivers back home. 

SCP-9140: “I’m so jealous that you two got to see all that.”

Luz: “Maybe they’ll let you guys take a field trip there one day.”

[SCP-9122 and SCP-9140 become down-heartened.] 

SCP-9140: “Yeah…”

SCP-9122: “One day…”

[Luz notices the sudden mood change. Luz pulls out a piece of paper and draws a circle. Inside the circle is a triangle located in the middle with a line bisecting the triangle, and bisecting halfway through the circle, with two more smaller, slanted lines just above the horizontal line of the triangle. At the tip of the triangle is a smaller circle with a smaller triangle at top. Luz presses the glyph and it, along with the paper, transforms into a small orb of light. SCP-9140 and SCP-9122 look at it in awe.]

Luz: “Here. It’s no lantern koi, but I think it's still something beautiful to look at.”

SCP-9140: “Whoa…”

SCP-9122: “You know how to do magic?”

Luz: “Just a few spells. I’m still learning. I can show you guys how to do it if you want.”

SCP-9122: “I…”

[SCP-9122 shakes its head and abruptly gets up.]

SCP-9122: “Me and Willow should get back to our cells.”

SCP-9140: “What? Why?”

SCP-9122: “We just do.”

[SCP-9122 gives SCP-9140 a look.]

SCP-9140: “Ah, right. Yeah, we should probably go. It was nice meeting you, Luz.”

Luz: “Oh. Okay, bye.”

[SCP-9140 waves back. SCP-9122 just grabs SCP-9140’s wrist and makes the two walk faster. Luz is left alone with her light.]

End of Log

…

“Holy shit.” 

Hunter stared in absolute astonishment at what he was seeing. He’s heard the stories of The Wanderer’s Library. Tales of it being an infinite stronghold of knowledge. The tales of legendary philosophers and thaumaturges studying in its great halls. He thought he would’ve been mentally prepared. 

He was so wrong.

All around him spanned impossibly tall shelves that looked like they stretched as far as the sky, maybe further. The shelves were scaled by these multi-limbed creatures that looked like they were getting books for people who pointed them out to them. The main hall was absolutely enormous, having hundreds of people of different shapes and sizes studying at ridiculously long tables. He saw hundreds of both regular and anomalous people chatting and reading. The walls were lined with an emerald green wallpaper with intricate images of serpents that he swore he could see slither on their own. He saw pathways bend and twist, certain spaces starting to look non-Euclidean. He could see people walking on these spaces upside down as if gravity was reversed. It was all disorienting. Hunter had to hold onto Luz to stop himself from falling over. 

“Yeah, I know. It can be a doozy seeing it for the first time. C’mon, let’s head by the front desk to get you a library card.” She takes him by the hand, leading him to the front desk while also carrying some books she needed to return for mom. The two passed by multiple unique library patrons.

Hunter sees an anthropomorphic vulture humanoid in robes giving newspapers to patrons. “Spread the news. Three Portlands’ Deer College is now starting to accept extra-dimensional applicants. New classrooms are to be built to accommodate 2nd to 5th dimensional beings.”

They pass by a girl around Luz’s age carrying a stack of books who appears to have some kind of spirit trailing behind her. He sees that some of the books she has include: Exorcism for Dummies, So, You’re Possessed?, and Spirit Unbinding and You. The girl has a look of annoyance on her face rather than the expected fear to have at her situation.

The two make their way to the front desk. At the desk was some sort of eyeless, centipede-like creature with multiple legs that all ended with human hands typing on a keyboard. “Hi! My friend wanted to get a library card. Oh, and I need to return these.” Luz placed a small stack of romantasy novels on the desk that the centipede took happily.

“Why does your mom get so many books about Fae princes kidnapping 19-22 year old women? I didn’t even realize that was a genre.”

The centipede leaned over its desk and looked(?) Hunter over, cocking its head to the side. Hunter started to sweat as it let out a shrill hiss, before gesturing to him to take out his hand. He cautiously obliged, immediately regretting his decision as the centipede spat out a card slick with green goo that had a series of numbers and a picture of Hunter’s nervous face on the front with a barcode on the back.

“Thanks?” The centipede bows its head and continues back to typing on its keyboard. Hunter attempts to wipe the goo off his card before Luz hands him some paper towels.

“I always come prepared. Ooh, you got green slime. I got blue the first time.”

He wipes the goo off his card and puts it in his pocket. “Okay. Now what?”

Luz gives a big smile. “Now we get to explore! Come on!” She grabs him by the wrist and leads him to the maze of knowledge.

.

Luz is carrying a stack of books ranging from fantasy novels to books geared to beginning witches, while Hunter only carries three books. Two are novelizations of stories from an old sci-fi show and the other is a book relating to outside survival.

“I cannot wait to break open these bad boys. How about you? You like your first time at the library?”

“Honestly, yeah. This place is amazing.”

“Heh, I knew I could turn you into a nerd.”

“Takes a nerd to know one,” he retorts, picking up a book off the ground that he assumed fell from one of the shelves.

She sticks out her tongue. “I’m not the one who wanted to go to the sci-fi section, science nerd. Didn’t even realize how far it was from the fantasy section.”

“I can see how someone can get lost in this-Ow!” Hunter yelped in pain and dropped the book he was holding. He saw that one of his fingers had been nicked. Did he get a paper cut? He looked down to his dropped book and went to pick it up before quickly retracting his hand as the book snapped back. “What the…?” The book suddenly grew spinally legs and its pages grew sharp, jagged teeth. Multiple insectoid-like eyes popped out and glared at Hunter. It then hisses at him and scuttles along a bookshelf, submitting itself into an empty slot.

“Oooh, Book Mimics. I hate when I pick those up. They’re really feisty.” She looks at Hunter’s nicked finger. “Don’t worry. Doctor Luz is on the job!” The girl reached into her backpack and pulled out an Azura-themed bandage and placed it around Hunter’s finger. “There you go!”

Hunter looked at her expectantly. “What? No kiss? How do you expect the pain to go away?” 

She couldn’t tell if he was joking or serious but decided to oblige regardless, kissing the tips of her index and ring finger and placing them on the bandaid, including a *Mwah!* sound as she did it.

“Thank you.”

The two checked out their books and received the keycard to the room for overnight stay. Hunter had protested when Luz suggested they sleep in the same bed, but eventually acquiesced. The two laid side-by-side, Luz reading one of her books and Hunter trying to stay as still as possible, trying to avoid physical contact. 

…

Location: Site-99 Courtyard

Subjects: SCP-9733 and Luz Noceda

Begin Log:

[SCP-9733 is seen laying on a towel and sunbathing. Luz walks up to it.]

Luz: “What are you doing?”

SCP-9733: “Sunbathing.”

Luz: “Can I join?”

SCP-9733: “Sure.”

[SCP-9733 gives Luz a spare towel. Luz lays down.]

Luz: …

SCP-9733: …

Luz: …

SCP-9733: …

Luz: …

SCP-9733: …

Luz: “This freaking rules.”

SCP-9733: “Right?”

Luz: …

SCP-9733: …

Luz: …

SCP-9733: “I like your earrings.”

Luz: “Thanks! I like your ear flaps. I like the shade of blue.”

SCP-9733: “Thanks! I grew them myself.”

Luz: …

SCP-9733: …

Luz: …

SCP-9733: …

Luz: …

SCP-9733: “We should do this more often.”

Luz: “I would love that.”

End of Log

…

Hunter sat at the table eating his breakfast and staring at Luz’s earrings. The girl shoved a fork full of eggs into her mouth before noticing her friend’s look.

“What?” Luz said with her mouth full.

“Where did you get your piercings done?”

“I got them done at the mall. Mom took me. Why?”

“Did it hurt?”

“I barely felt it. I was still nervous as heck during it, though. I was shaking like crazy.”

Hunter digested her words. He went to Camila with a nervous look on his face. He didn’t know why he felt nervous.

“Oh. What is it, Hunter?”

“Can I get my ears pierced?”

.

The mall was enormous with at least three separate floors full of shops. It didn’t overwhelm Hunter though. The Wanderer’s Library dwarfed the mall by literally a million times over. Luz dragged him past multiple clothing shops, knowing the boy would get sidetracked and distracted immediately. They arrived at the piercing shop. The sign at the front of the store read “Sam’s Piercing” with a smaller sign in the window that read “Customers below 18 need a parent or guardian to be allowed to be pierced.”

They entered the shop and saw a tired looking twenty-five year old with tattoos covering his arms and piercings all over his face. Camila went towards the counter.

“Excuse me. My daughter’s…”

Luz looked at her mother with confusion. “Friend?”

“Really? Still?”

“What does that mean?”

“Don’t worry about it, mija. My daughter’s friend wanted to get his ears pierced.”

“Alright. I need the both of you to sign this consent form and we can get started.”

His uncle would have never allowed him to get a piercing. He’s almost positive his uncle, upon seeing it, would immediately rip it out and let his blood drip down to the ground and would probably get angry that he was staining his carpet. 

No nephew of mine is going to involve himself in such delinquent behavior.

This would be a good way to really get back at his uncle . He felt so rebellious and badass.

The moment he entered the room where he would be pierced, all that confidence went out the window, nervousness overtaking him. 

C’mon, Hunter. You’ve gone through worse than this. This will be no problem.

He sat in the chair and tried to steady himself while the piercer got their implements prepared. The piercer, who Hunter assumed was the one called Sam, soaked a cotton ball in rubbing alcohol and rubbed lobes of his ears. The cold rubbing alcohol made him jump a little. 

“You alright, dude? You look like you're about to jump out of the chair,” Sam said in a monotone voice.

“I’m completely fine,” Hunter said with a nervous grin on his face. Sam didn’t react and continued to prep Hunter, dotting both his ear lobes with a black marker.

This is no problem, Hunter. You got this.

Sam finally took out the sterile needle and Hunter’s heart dropped. 

“Alright, you ready?” 

“Y-Yep!”

Hunter shakes as the piercer comes closer with the needle to his ear,

“Okay take a deep breath and breathe out in 3… 2…”

The needle slightly grazed Hunter’s ear and he immediately panicked, falling out of the chair.

“Whoa. Dude, you okay?”

“I’m fine! Uh… Can you give me a sec?”

“Sure. Take your time.”

“Thanks!”

Hunter stepped out of the room, sweating like crazy.

Luz and Camila sat in the waiting section, Camila reading a magazine and Luz literally twiddling her thumbs. Hunter smiled at her silliness and went to her. She looked at him and was prepared to gawk at his pierced ears, but showed confusion at the lack of jewelry.

“Hunter, is something wrong?” 

Camila put down her magazine and showed the same amount of concern.

“I’m fine. Uh. But, can you do me a favor?”

“Sure. What?”

Hunter returned to the piercing room with Luz in tow. Sam looked at the two in confusion.

“Is it okay if I have my friend near?”

“Do what you need, man. I don’t care.”

Hunter sat back on the leather chair with Luz by his side. The piercer redid his routine up to where Hunter freaked out. 

“Alright. Take a deep breath and breathe out in 3… 2…”

Hunter braced for the needle before feeling slight pressure on his left hand. He sees Luz grasping his hand and holding it tight, giving him a supportive look. Looking at her brought him at ease.

“And 1. Breathe out.”

She was right. He barely felt it. 

.

“They look so good!” The three exited the piercing shop. Hunter was rocking his new piercings with pride. 

“You really think so? 

“I know so!”

“Remember to do your aftercare, Hunter. We don’t want them to get infected.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Hunter, you can just call me Camila.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Do you two want to get some lunch in the food court?”

“That sounds great, Mami! Hunter?”

“I’d really like that.”

The three went and ate the greasiest mall pizza of all time.

…

Location: Testing Room 1B

Subjects: SCP-9500 and SCP-9140

Note: Purpose of cross-testing was to see how SCP-9140’s biomancy abilities would affect a partially plant based organism like SCP-9500.

Begin Log:

[As researchers prepare for testing, SCP-9140 and SCP-9500 are seen sitting in the waiting area. SCP-9500 seems to notice the skin abrasions on SCP-9140’s neck. SCP-9140 notices this and attempts to hide its scars.]

SCP-9500: “Sooooo, what do you think they’re going to make us do?”

SCP-9140: “Maybe they want to see if I can root you to the ground.”

SCP-9500: “As long as you don’t make me explode into flower petals, I’ll be fine with whatever.”

SCP-9140: “I’ll make sure you look really pretty.”

SCP-9500: “Thank you.”

[Silence.]

SCP-9140: “Can I ask you a personal question?”

SCP-9500: “Sure.”

SCP-9140: “How did you get those scars?”

[SCP-9140 gestures to scarred skin on SCP-9500’s arms.]

SCP-9500: “Ah. I got these from field work. I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I was kind of a master monster hunter.”

SCP-9140: …

SCP-9500: “Okay, maybe master is a strong word, but I did fight a lot of things with way too many teeth. Things would get dicey sometimes and I had some pretty close calls.”

SCP-9140: “Like what?”

SCP-9500: “Well, this one I got from fighting a writhing tentacle that shot out from the ground, this one was from getting slashed by an enemy agent, and this one I got from my body skidding across pavement.”

SCP-9140: “Ouch. What about that one?”

[SCP-9140 gestures to a scar on SCP-9500’s neck.]

SCP-9500: “Oh. I got that by not paying attention to my surroundings. I got ambushed and bit by something really nasty. I still don’t know how I survived it. I remember my squad captain putting pressure on the wound and screamed for the medic. I passed out and woke up in the med bay. My neck was bandaged up. I got a week off from field work, so that was nice.”

SCP-9140: “I’m so sorry.”

SCP-9500: “Thanks. Can I ask where you got yours?”

[SCP-9140 covers its neck again.]

SCP-9140: “I-I’d rather not. Bad memories.”

SCP-9500: “Say no more. Sorry I brought it up.”

[Silence.]

SCP-9140: “How do you deal with them?”

SCP-9500: “Deal with what?”

SCP-9140: “Your scars. Do you try to keep them covered or are you fine leaving them out in the open?”

SCP-9500: “I was really insecure about them for a while. Took me forever to build a positive mindset about them.”

SCP-9140: “Wish I could do that. Every time I look into the mirror, I see these ugly scars on my neck and I get reminded about how desperate I was to leave this place. I get reminded of how… pathetic I was.”

SCP-9500 : “Scars don’t always have to be a bad reminder.”

SCP-9140: “Hmm?”

SCP-9500 : “They mean you survived. It means you were strong enough to survive.

SCP-9140 : “I’m not that strong.”

SCP-9500: “Willow, I’ve seen you lift weights in the gym. Don’t lie.”

SCP-9140 : “I’m not emotionally strong. You should’ve seen me when I first got in here. I was so depressed and angry. I just wanted everyone to just leave me alone and disappear. I’d lash out, cry, and almost never leave my room. I was a mess. I still am.

SCP-9500: “And yet, you’re still here.”

SCP-9140: …

[SCP-9140 smiles.]

SCP-9140: “I’m still here and you all are stuck with me.”

SCP-9500: “I can think of worse fates.”

Researcher: “The testing chamber has been prepped. 9140 and 9500, we are ready for you.”

SCP-9500: “Promise not to blow me up?”

SCP-9140: “I’ll try my best.”

[SCP-9140 and SCP-9500 walk into the testing chamber.]

[Testing log omitted for brevity.]

[SCP-9140 is seen trying to hide its laughter as it and SCP-9500 walk out of the testing chamber. SCP-9500 looks mildly disgruntled and is seen with multiple flowers growing from its scalp.]

SCP-9500: “Shut up.”

End of Log

Note : SCP-9500 was later escorted to the med bay to remove the flowers from its scalp. The procedure was a success with minimal pain insured by SCP-9500. SCP-9500 requested the flowers be given to SCP-9140. Request was denied due to a potential containment breach. SCP-9500 put in another request to send plastic flowers to SCP-9140. The request was approved and flowers were sent to SCP-9140 along with a plastic vase. The flowers came with a note from SCP-9500 that said: I’m still mad, but you might as well have these. P.S. Sorry, they wouldn’t let me give you real flowers . SCP-9140 has since placed the flowers in the plastic vase on its nightstand.

…

Hunter sucks in air between his teeth as the razor blade slides across his thigh and the sting of pain hits him. Blood starts to flow out of him as the relief from the action starts to flow in. He rests his head on the basement wall behind him. He looks down to his bare thigh to see other parallel lines of past self-injury. 

“Like a cutting board,” he joked to himself.

He thinks back to those days in training. To those bruises and cuts he would get because he misread an opponent’s move or because he just wasn’t aware of his surroundings. He remembers how disappointed his uncle was after failed missions, pointing out how he’s supposed to be better than this. He remembered how hard his uncle could smack him.

I’m sorry, uncle. I’ll be better.

His uncle looks at him with a bitter glare and waves him off to leave his sight. He softly cries into his pillow, not wanting his bunk mates and fellow agents to hear.

He closed his eyes to let his mind wander.

“Hunter!”

He jolts awake to see Luz near the bottom of the stairs.

Shit.

Luz races over to him in a panic. “No, no, no, no. Oh no. How long have you been doing this?”

He covers his thigh. “Luz, it’s fine.”

“That doesn’t look fine.” She gestures to his thigh.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh really? Because it looks like you’re harming yourself. Let me get my med kit.”

“I don’t need a med kit,” he says firmly.

“Yes, you do. Hunter, let me help you. I can bandage you up, then we can talk-“

“I don’t need your help!” He didn’t mean for that to sound so forceful. He sees the look on her face and sees how much he hurt her. “Shit. Luz, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

She stands up abruptly. “I’m getting the med kit. Stay here.” She says it firmly. Firmly enough where Hunter on instinct instantly obeys.

She leaves and comes back with the med kit a minute later. She sanitizes the cut and bandages him up with a serious look on her face. She breathes a sigh of relief when she finishes. She sits next to him, her back on the wall.

A silence falls between them.

“Luz, I-.”

“Are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Hunter,” she turns her head to him, “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

No answer again. He’s not sure if he wants to tell her.

She realizes she’s not going to get anywhere at this point so she decides to throw out a haymaker.

“I can show you mine.”

He looks at her in confusion. “What do you-?”

She shows him her forearm. He sees the faint, parallel lines on her forearm. His eyes go wide and he looks at her with shock and concern.

“You too?”

“Yeah. When…” she hesitates, debating with herself on if she wants to share the information. She closes her eyes tight and opens, making eye contact with Hunter. “When my dad passed away, I was in a really dark place. I stayed in my room all day. I barely ate. I just slept all the time. One day, I was feeling really numb, like emotionally. I just wanted to feel something, anything at all. I remembered my dad had a shaving kit he would use and how there were some disposable razors in it. So I grabbed them, locked myself in my room, and just stared at the razor in my hand. I don’t know how long I stared. Eventually, I took the blade to my arm and sliced it open. The pain was intense at first, making me grit my teeth. But I still felt something that wasn’t just gray numbness. I remember feeling good seeing the blood run down my arm. It felt like the numbness was flowing out of me. It was the first time that I felt I had any sense of control.”

Luz sniffles. Hunter puts his hand on her shoulder. She moves her hand to meet his. “I only did it a few more times after that. Mom found out and she nearly cried her eyes out. I remember crying a lot too. She took me to a therapist soon after and it ended up really helping.”

Silence.

“Luz, I-.”

She cuts him off. “Can I ask why?”

He goes silent.

“If you really don’t want to tell me, fine. But I do think you should talk about this.”

He brings his knees to his chest to make him look small. 

“Sometimes things get too overwhelming for me. Too many emotions building up that I try to force down. Doing this brings me some relief. Comfort. Feels like my emotions just flow out.”

He starts to sniffle as well. “That’s not the only reason though.”

Luz cocks her head curiously.

He clenched his fists. “It’s to punish myself. Every time I let… him down, every time I failed him, I was punished. It gave me motivation. It reminded me that I had to be better so that I would never have to relive the pain. Every time I mess up, I have to do this. I deserve this pain for not being good enough. I was abandoned because I wasn’t good enough. Not good enough for anyone to bother with me.”

The tears start to well up.

“I deserve…” he sniffs and rubs his eyes. “Goddammit. I deserve…”

And it all comes flooding out. Raw emotion Hunter had building up for god knows how long finally bursts. Tears ran down his cheeks, loud sobs escaped his mouth, he held his face in his hands as if to hide his weakness.

Luz is upon him, wrapping him in the biggest and tightest hug she can muster. She’s crying now. Multiple soft “I’m sorry’s” tumble out from both of them.

Later, they’re lying in Luz’s bed, still holding each other close. Their eyes are still red and puffy. 

“I won’t tell my mom if you don’t want me to. I’m not sure if I have the right to tell anyone.”

“Thank you.” His voice is hoarse from the crying. “Sorry for getting tears on your shirt.”

She smiles softly. “It’s okay.” She strokes his hair.

“I’m not going to ask you to stop. I really want you to, but I know it’s not as simple as just deciding not to do it. I understand that it can get too much sometimes. But can you promise me one thing?”

He looks up to her.

“Talk to me about this. Let me know what I can do to help. I don’t want my friends to be hurting. Okay?”

He stares into her eyes. “Okay.” The okay is weak and strained. “Kinda screwed up that we’re bonding over our self-harm scars.”

“It’s okay to be a little screwed up sometimes.”

He listens to the thumping in her chest.

“I like your heartbeat.”

“Thanks.”

“That wasn’t a weird thing to say, was it?”

“It’s also okay to be a little weird sometimes.”

He chuckles softly.

“Us weirdos gotta stick together.”

“Of course. Who else will listen to my heartbeat?”

…

“Is it okay for me to… stay here a little longer?”

“As long as you want.” She pulls him in closer. 

He didn't touch a blade for a while after that.

…

Location: Site-99 Gym

Subjects: Luz Noceda and SCP-9200-5

Begin Log:

[SCP-9200-5 is seen running on a treadmill. After an hour, the treadmill begins to slow down and SCP-9200-5 steps off. Luz Noceda approaches her.]

Luz: “Hey! You’re Amity, right? You’re in Hunter’s group?”

[SCP-9200-5 barely looks in her direction as it wipes the sweat off its brow.]

SCP-9200-5: “Yeah. You’re Hunter’s girlfriend, right?”

[Luz blushes and her eyes go wide.]

Luz: “What!? No, we're not dating. He’s just a really good friend. I mean don’t get me wrong, he is sweet and cute- Ah! B-But not cute as in I have a crush or anything or-.”

SCP-9200-5: “Relax, I was joking.”

Luz: “Oh. Heh. Right.”

[Luz stands awkwardly as SCP-9200-5 drinks from its water bottle.]

SCP-9200-5: “So… did you want something or…?”

Luz: “Oh right! I just wanted to come by and say hi. You’re the last person in the group I haven’t met yet.”

SCP-9200-5: “Oh I wonder why.”

Luz: “Hmm?”

SCP-9200-5: “I’m guessing you’ve heard the rumors about me and that’s why you’ve kept your distance. You’re afraid of what I might do.”

Luz: “No, no! I just noticed you were a little standoff-ish whenever I visited so I was giving you space until I knew the rest of the group better.”

SCP-9200-5: “Oh? Did they tell you anything interesting about me? Let me guess, Hunter used words like ‘freak’ or ‘monstrosity’ or-.”

Luz: “He actually told me about how he kinda respects you.”

SCP-9200-5: “Really?”

Luz: “Yep! Said you were way too defiant to let this place hold you down. The others said the same. Willow also said you were really nice when someone gets to know you.”

[SCP-9200-5 smiles. It is now actually looking at Luz.]

SCP-9200-5: “She would say that. So, you’re really not here now because you were afraid?”

Luz: “Why would I be afraid?”

[SCP-9200-5 looks to make sure the guards are not looking. After confirmation, it gestures for Luz to come closer. It then shifts its arm into a red tendril. Its flesh and bone flow like water as the shift occurs . SCP-9200-5 looks at Luz, seemingly expecting an over the top reaction. Luz just stares at SCP-9200-5’s arm.]

Luz: …

SCP-9200-5: “Well?”

[Luz bursts in excitement, touching SCP-9200-5’s arm.]

Luz: “This is so cool! I’ve heard of flesh-crafting but I’ve never seen it in person. Can you turn your arm into other stuff?”

[SCP-9200-5 is temporarily stunned.]

SCP-9200-5: “Uh, yeah. I can change my bone structure, manipulate my blood, I can even split it into more parts. Look.”

[SCP-9200-5 tendril arm splits into four, smaller red tendrils. Luz gets more excited and claps happily.]

Luz: “That’s amazing! You are amazing! Oh you are officially the coolest person here!”

[SCP-9200-5 blushes at the compliment. It tries to speak but ends up stammering out the words instead.]

SCP-9200-5: “W-Well, it’s not really that impressive. I still have a lot more practice to do. I’d be happy to show you more! O-Only if you want to, of course.”

Luz: “Um, yeah! Of course I’d love to see more!”

SCP-9200-5: “I-Oh shit!”

[SCP-9200-5 de-shifts its arm back to its normal state as a guard walks towards the two girls.]

SCP-9200-5: “We’re fine. I’m not going to bite her head off, don’t worry.”

Guard: “Ma’am, is the anomaly bothering you?”

Luz: “She’s not bothering me at all.”

SCP-9200-5: “The only person bothering anyone is you.”

[SCP-9200-5 glares at the guard.]

Guard: “Hmm. As you were.”

[The guard leaves the two. Luz blows a raspberry in his direction and mimics his words in an exaggerated, gruff manner. SCP-9200-5 laughs.]

Luz: “Anyway. Yeah I’d love to see more. I’ve always wanted to try flesh-crafting but my mom always said no. Said I would get stuck mid-transformation.”

SCP-9200-5: “To be fair, that is an actual concern. My first time flesh-crafting I could barely control myself. It was honestly kinda scary.”

Luz: “Oh I’m so sorry.”

SCP-9200-5: “It’s fine.”

[SCP-9200-5 gestures to itself.]

SCP-9200-5: “I got better.”

Luz: “I see that! My mom only really lets me practice magic with glyphs. I got this book from the Wanderer’s Library that had a lot of information about it. Here, let me…”

[Luz reaches into her backpack and pulls out a pad and paper. She writes a glyph on the paper and touches it, causing the paper to fold in on itself. The paper has turned into a bright ball of light. SCP-9200-5 looks at it with curiosity.]

Luz: “It’s a baby spell, but it’s one of my favorites.”

SCP-9200-5: “It’s really pretty.”

Luz: “I know, right?”

[The light dissipates and Luz sighs.]

Luz: “Still the only magic I’m really allowed to do. I know how to do other glyphs. Plant, fire, ice, but that’s it. Guess the only magic I have to settle with is from this and reading my Azura books.”

SCP-9200-5: What?

Luz : “ Good Witch Azura ? It’s one of my favorite book series. Ever heard of it?”

[SCP-9200-5 gets a sparkle in its eye.]

End of Log

Note: Luz Noceda and SCP-9200-5 have now started a book club.

…

Location: Site-99 Cafeteria

Subjects: SCP-9500 and SCP-9733

Begin Log:

[SCP-9500 and SCP-9733 are sitting at a table together eating lunch. Half the food on SCP-9500’s tray has been eaten while SCP-9733’s tray is mostly still full. SCP-9733 grimaces at its food.]

SCP-9500: “Yeah. Not the best. I’ve had worse, though. At least they gave us salt.”

SCP-9733: “Yeah…”

SCP-9500: “If this was Luz’s mom’s cooking, I’d be licking the plate by now. She makes this meal called ‘La Bandera’ and it is absolutely delicious. Pretty sure I gained like 10 lbs over the summer and fall with how much I ate of it.”

SCP-9733: “Can we not talk about that type of stuff, please?”

SCP-9500: “Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry.”

SCP-9733: “I’m sorry. It’s just… I have some issues with food and my weight. I kinda have an… eating disorder.”

SCP-9500: “I am so sorry. I swear I didn’t know.”

SCP-9733: “No no, it’s fine. You couldn’t have known. God knows I don’t talk about it during group sessions. I’ve…”

SCP-9500: “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

SCP-9733: “Thanks, but it’s probably best you know. Make it easier to avoid. I’ve always had problems with food. I lived in captivity for the first few years of my life and was barely fed. I learned to savor every bit of food I could get. Then I went to work for the circus. I had more access to meals, but the people who took me in, my “family,” always made me feel bad about my weight. They’d always say I was too heavy for acts. The ringleader was the worst. He was bad with everyone, but especially me. He could yell. Ah man, he could yell. He’d always sweet talk me afterwards and say he’s doing what’s best for the circus and the family. Said he was doing me a favor, but…”

SCP-9500: “He cared more for what you could do for him and less about making sure you were happy and safe?”

SCP-9733: “Yeah! How did you…?”

SCP-9500: “I… didn’t have the best life before I met Luz. I felt like I always had to prove myself to other people. Pretend to be someone I wasn’t. It didn’t matter how hard I tried.”

[SCP-9500 moves the food on its tray around with its fork.]

SCP-9500: “You know what I’ve learned? They’ll be people out there who make you feel worthless or say that you need to justify your existence. But there are also people out there that won’t make you feel worthless. You just need to let yourself meet them. The people who make you feel okay when they’re near.”

SCP-9733: “Does that work? Thinking like that?”

SCP-9500: “I’d think so, to me at least.”

SCP-9733: “Does it also help with feeling like you got cheated out of your childhood? Because I’m not gonna lie, sometimes I think about how much I missed. I never went to school or made friends or had someone who cared about me.”

SCP-9500: “You can try to make up for lost time. I started doing actual teenage stuff. It did make me feel bad for missing out on certain things when I was younger, but getting to actually experience new things felt nice. The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago and the second best time to plant one is right now. Ever heard of that? It’s a quote I say to myself sometimes. Reminds me there’s still time.”

SCP-9733: “It’s just… Okay. I know I should hate them and I do, but sometimes it’s hard to get their voice out of the back of my mind. That… I don’t deserve this or I’m doing something wrong. That I still need to please them and be who they want me to be. How do you shut them up?”

SCP-9500: “I think about who they wanted me to be and I go against it. Every little act is a form of rebellion. Every moment I felt happiness, just for a little bit, meant they hadn’t broken me. It was liberating and having friends who encouraged you to be yourself helped, even if you didn’t know who ‘yourself’ was yet.”

“To those assholes who made your life hell: Ruin their day by loving yourself. That’s the best revenge you can do.”

[SCP-9733 contemplates the words before looking down at its tray. It clenches the fork it was holding and pierces the nutritional brick, breaking off a fairly large portion of food. SCP-9733 stares at the food on its fork. It gains a look of determination, takes a big bite, chews, and swallows the food.]

SCP-9500: “There you go!”

SCP-9733: “S-Screw you, Herman Fuller!”

SCP-9500: “Yeah!”

[It takes another bite.]

SCP-9733: “That did feel liberating.”

[It goes to take another bite, but hesitates. It takes a small bite from the fork and places it back down.]

SCP-9500: “That’s alright. Go at your own pace. This type of stuff takes time. God knows it did for me.”

[SCP-9733 drums its fingers on the table.]

SCP-9733: “Can you tell me more about the food Luz’s mom would make?”

SCP-9500: “I’d love to.”

End of Log

Note: After this interaction, SCP-9733 was shown to slowly improve its eating habits and nutritional intake. SCP-9733 has since then been steadily gaining weight.

…

“C’mon! Eat a donut!”

The two are sitting on the curb to Jo’s Donuts, a local donut and coffee shop. In between them was half a dozen assorted donuts: Two chocolate glazed, two regular glazed, one filled with strawberry jam, and one lemon custard that Luz had grabbed as soon as the box was opened.

“There’s no nutritional value in eating that. It’s just empty calories.”

“But it tastes really good.”

“That doesn’t matter. I’m on a strict diet plan. Any deviation could mess with my caloric intake and mess me up through the entire-. Stop doing that.”

Luz had been slowly moving one of the chocolate donuts close to Hunter’s face

She pouts. “Why’d you even come if you weren’t going to eat any?”

“No reason.”

“Aw! Do you get lonely when I’m not at home?” she says with her bottom lip extended and feigning eyes filled with tears. 

“Look, it doesn't matter. I already brought a snack. See?” Hunter pulls out a protein bar from his pocket. “30 grams of protein and way less sugar than one of your donuts.” 

He opens the bar’s wrapper and prepares to bite into it, but, despite him protesting, is blocked by Luz who takes a bite of his protein bar and immediately gags. “Hunter, that tastes like chalk!”

“No it doesn’t! See?” he points to the wrapper, “It says “Double Chocolate Crunch”.” 

“It doesn’t even have the decency to go all in on the alliteration!”

“This bar is a suitable dessert replacement.” 

She looks at him with slight concern. “Hunter, you know you’re allowed to enjoy yourself, right?”

“Of course I do! I’m enjoying myself right now.”

“No, I mean that you’re not in the Insurgency anymore. You’re not going on dangerous missions or having to risk your life. You can just relax.”

“I know that!” 

Does he though? He thinks to himself. It’s been months since he’s left the Insurgency and he’s still been acting like he needs to be on high alert. That his body needs to be in peak physical condition to protect those around him. That he needs to eat not for pleasure, but for direct benefit. Calorie counting, weighing the nutritional value of every food when making a decision on what to eat, and feeling guilty whenever he accidentally went over his daily recommended calories. Is he allowed to enjoy himself?

“Hunter?”

“Huh?” He shakes himself from his internal conflict.

“If you really don’t want any, it’s fine. More for me. Hehe.” She gave him a smile and began to bite into her sweet treat.

Hunter looked down at the protein bar in his hand and then to the box of donuts. “Can I have one?”

Luz’s eyebrows shot up and pushed the donut box towards him. “Please. Just make sure you save one for Mami.”

He reaches his hand in and pulls out one of the chocolate glazed donuts and holds it in his hand. He rewraps the bar and places it to the side. He stares at the donut before taking a deep breath and then taking a big bite of it. The sweet, chocolatey flavor hits his tongue and his eyes go wide. He looks at Luz in astonishment.

“So good, right?”

He nods and continues to devour the chocolate donut and one of the original glazed. Luz follows suit and eats the other. He licks the sticky glaze from his fingers before turning to Luz with a napkin and a smug look on her face. “So I’m guessing you enjoyed it?” He shoves his hands coated in saliva in her face in retaliation. She screams in protest. He soon forgets about the bar to his side.

Camila had started taking his eating habits in account and had started making specialized meals that were calorie compliant AND tasted good. He didn’t realize food was meant to taste good. He’d even sometimes ask for seconds which she would give gladly. 

A few months pass, he looks in the mirror to see some changes to his body. His cheeks are fuller, he’s not as lean as he used to be, and he looks like he actually has some meat on his bones. And the thing is… he doesn’t really mind it. A few months ago, if he looked into the mirror and saw how much he filled out, his first thought would be, “Hmm, I should start eating with a caloric deficit.”

Luz and Camila had commented on how healthier he had looked and how much more energy he had. 

Luz would stumble over her words trying to compliment him. “You look good. I mean you always look great. Not that I’ve been looking. I’m just saying I like what I see. Wait, um….”

He smiles. “Thanks.”

Camila would call for the two, informing them dinner was ready. He could actually say he was looking forward to a meal. 

…

Location: Courtyard 

Subjects: SCP-9122 and SCP-9500

Begin Log:

[SCP-9122 is seen throwing a ball at a wall and letting it bounce back to it. SCP-9500 has been watching for the past few minutes.]

SCP-9500: “Riveting gameplay.”

SCP-9122: “Go away.”

SCP-9500: “Okay.”

[SCP-9500 stays.]

SCP-9122: “I said go away.”

SCP-9500: “You got it.”

[SCP-9500 stays . SCP-9122 glares at SCP-9500 and puts up a light construct resembling a brick wall in between it and SCP-9500 . SCP-9500 slowly phases its face through the construct. SCP-9122 groans in frustration.]

SCP-9122: “What!?”

SCP-9500: “What’re you doing?”

SCP-9122: “Can’t I just be by myself? Is that a crime?”

SCP-9500: “Was just curious. We never really talk.”

SCP-9122: “Because we don’t have to. I don’t have to interact with anyone if I don’t want to.”

SCP-9500: “You talk to Willow.”

SCP-9122: “She’s different.”

SCP-9500: “How so?”

SCP-9122: “We have some things in common.”

SCP-9500: “Like what?”

[SCP-9122 groans.]

SCP-9122: “You’re really annoying. You know that?”

SCP-9500: “Guess my friend rubbed off on me. She’d ask me questions and wouldn’t leave when I asked all the time.”

SCP-9122 : “You mean the human ?”

SCP-9500: “Oof. I felt the hate in that. You got a problem with her?”

SCP-9122: “Not her, specifically. Just humans in general. All they do is lie, steal, and destroy.”

SCP-9500: “Well, she’s definitely stolen some of my snacks before.”

SCP-9122: “You know what I mean.”

SCP-9500: “I actually don’t. Luz isn’t anything like that.”

SCP-9122: …

SCP-9122: “She told you about me, didn’t she?”

SCP-9500: “Probably. Don’t think she knows any other goat boys.”

SCP-9122: “Yeah. She wouldn’t.”

[Silence.]

SCP-9500: “You know technically, I’m not human. I mean, I say technically like I have a minor difference but I’m literally made from wood and animal parts. I think you can spare a little trust with me.”

SCP-9122: …

SCP-9500: “Hang on.”

[SCP-9500 bites its finger, breaking the skin and letting a little bit of its blood flow out. It’s the shade of amber.]

SCP-9500: “Taste it.”

SCP-9122: “What?”

SCP-9500: “Trust me.”

SCP-9122: “I think you got me confused for the Nälkä girl.”

SCP-9122: ….

SCP-9122: “Fine.”

[SCP-9122 takes a droplet of SCP-9500 blood in its palm, smells, and licks it.]

SCP-9122: …

SCP-9122: “Tree sap?”

SCP-9500: “Being made from Palistrom wood leads to some… oddities. One time Amity bit me. Long story. Okay, not long. I just annoyed her. You should’ve seen her face. She was not expecting that at all.”

“Bright side, I never have to worry about running out of stuff to pour over my pancakes.”

[SCP-9122 gives a light chuckle.]

SCP-9500: “There’s a smile.”

[SCP-9122 fixes its composure and returns to its bitter visage.]

SCP-9500: “Speaking of pancakes, I might have another friend you might like. Though, I guess he’s more of a pet. I know this Palisman called Flapjack at my friend’s mom’s work, Wilson’s Wildlife Solutions. Ever heard of it?”

SCP-9122: “They take care of odd animals right?”

SCP-9500: “Yep! I used to volunteer there all the time. And Flapjack isn’t a human so you guys might hit it off. He’s great at conversation.”

SCP-9122: “You understand him?”

SCP-9500: “Yeah. I kinda just assumed he was telepathic or something. It wouldn't be the weirdest thing I've seen.”

SCP-9122: “If you understood him, that means you two actually bonded. Communication and understanding becomes natural between a Palisman and their owner.”

SCP-9500: “Huh.”

[Silence.]

SCP-9122: “What did you do at Wilson’s?”

SCP-9500: “Little bit of everything. Feeding, first aid, enclosure set up, enrichment activities. It was tiring but seeing the critters happy and healthy made it worth it.”

SCP-9122: “Mmm.”

SCP-9500: “It’s strange. I thought I would feel out of place, but I really felt like I belonged. It felt…”

SCP-9122: “Natural?”

SCP-9500: “Yeah! Like I was doing what I was meant to do. I wasn’t expected to be someone else or do something I didn’t want to do. They… accepted me.”

[SCP-9122’s face softens.]

SCP-9500: “It reminds me of a quote. Love and protect each other just as they are…”

SCP-9122: “Through supernovas, and solar winds.”

[SCP-9500 looks at SCP-9122 in surprise.]

SCP-9500 : “You know Cosmic Frontier ?”

SCP-9122: “Why is that a shock?”

SCP-9500: “I’d figure you’d be more into fantasy type stuff.”

SCP-9122: “I saw fantasy stuff everyday back home. But science fiction? Now that’s interesting and new. Traveling the stars in spaceships, discovering new planets, fighting alien invasions. It’s all just so…”

SCP-9500: “Cool?”

SCP-9122: “Amazing!”

SCP-9500: “Not to mention the writing and characters are phenomenal.”

SCP-9122: “Right? It’s so good!”

[ The two ramble about their interests for several minutes. SCP-9122 noticeably becomes less withdrawn and more talkative as the two go on .]

SCP-9500: “Did we just become best friends?”

[SCP-9122 smiles and prepares to say something else, but hesitates, becoming slightly cautious. It contemplates for several seconds.]

SCP-9122: “Definitely friends for now. But I won’t be making friendship bracelets.”

SCP-9500: “I’m fine with that.”

[The two continue to talk about their special interests.]

End of Log

…

Hunter lays on the couch in the basement reading a sci-fi novel. Luz comes down the steps and stands at the foot of the stairs, eating a bag of barbecue chips.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

She continues to munch on the chips. The munching is mildly irritating.

“Can I help you?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

Munching continues.

…

“Luz, what do you want?”

“Whatcha doin?”

“Reading.”

“Cool.”

…

Munching resumes.

“What are you doing?”

“Wanted to bother you.”

“Well, you’re doing it.”

*Munching*

He sighs.

*Munching*

“How many chips are in that bag?”

“Enough.”

*Munching*

*Munching*

*Munching*

*Munching*

*Munching*

This is a mild Hell.

…

Location: SCP-9200-5’s Containment Cell.

Subjects: Luz Noceda, SCP-9140, and SCP-9200-5

Begin Log:

[The three are sitting on SCP-9200-5’s bed. They are discussing a book they’ve all been reading. Luz is laying her head on SCP-9200-5’s lap.]

SCP-9140: “Okay, guys, I’m happy to announce that I understand the appeal of AzuraXHecate.”

Luz: “Yes!”

SCP-9200-5: “Finally!”

SCP-9140: “The second book did so much for their relationship. The progression of Hecate going from a rival to a friend was so good.”

SCP-9200-5: “And her developing her feelings towards Azure felt so natural. Their relationship is definitely a highlight.”

SCP-9140: “There were so many moments when I was just begging them to kiss already!”

Luz : “I am so glad that you understand how Good Witch Azura is high literature.”

SCP-9140: “Though, I kinda do ship Azura with Hart a little bit.”

Luz and SCP-9200-5, simultaneously: “What!?”

SCP-9140: “You guys don’t see it? They way they both bond over their shared trauma, the Sun and Moon motifs, the enemies to friends to lovers with a dash of forbidden love thrown in there.”

Luz: “No way. I get siblings vibes with them.”

SCP-9200-5: “I don’t even want to look at you for making that comment, Willow. Terrible ship tastes.”

SCP-9140: “Don’t you have a self-insert that you ship with Malingale?”

SCP-9200-5: “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Amelia is nothing like me.”

SCP-9140: “Amelia, the bad girl witch with a cold exterior but beneath the ice is a warm heart who cares for her friends, is nothing like you?”

SCP-9200-5: “That doesn’t sound anything like me. I’m cold and dangerous. No warmth.”

[Luz puts a sticker on both of SCP-9200-5’s cheeks and touches its nose, punctuating it with a “Boop!”. The stickers display images of kittens. SCP-9200-5 tries to resist, but ends up giving a warm, loving smile.]

SCP-9140: “So cold. So dangerous.”

SCP-9200-5: “I'm cold and dangerous when you two aren’t around.”

Luz: “When we’re around, you become a sweetheart.”

[SCP-9200-5 grabs a pillow and hits Luz in the face with it.]

Luz: “Bah!”

[Security personnel open SCP-9200-5’s cell. Luz sits up.]

Security: “Luz Noceda.”

Luz: “Oh, my mom’s here to pick me up. Bye guys!”

SCP-9140: “Bye, Luz.”

SCP-9200-5: “See ya.”

[Luz Noceda waves her hand and leaves the cell.]

SCP-9140: “It’s nice her mom lets her visit.”

SCP-9200-5: “At least somebody has good parents here.”

SCP-9140: “Heh. Yeah.”

[Silence.]

SCP-9140: “You never talk about your parents. Why is that?”

SCP-9200-5: “Don’t have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.”

SCP-9140: “That bad, huh?”

SCP-9200-5 : “Worse. They are so frustrating. Did I tell you that they were going to have me marry the son of an affluent family? Apparently, it doesn’t matter that I’m gay and would be miserable. It’s what’s better for the family. Don’t be unreasonable Mittens. Why are you being so selfish? Feels like they don’t even see me as my own person. Just a… tool they can use.”

SCP-9140: “I’m so sorry.”

SCP-9200-5: “It’s fine. Well, it’s not fine, but thanks.”

[SCP-9200-5 sighs.]

SCP-9200-5: “Y’know what actually hurts the most about being here? It’s not the imprisonment or being treated like an animal. I actually miss them. I miss people who were manipulative and abusive to me because at least I was familiar with it. At least it was a constant that I could deal with. At least they pretended to care. But being here? I’m even less my own person. I’m not Amity. I’m SCP-9200-5! They tell you they care. That they’re here to help. But for some reason, they comprehend that no matter what they do, I’m still stuck here and I don’t have a say.”

SCP-9140: “They’re scared of us. They won’t listen.”

SCP-9200-5: “Exactly!”

SCP-9140: “You think they’re actually going to let us out when we’re 18?”

SCP-9200-5: “I doubt it. They’re definitely not going to let me out, I know that. I’m probably too much of a risk to the public. I’m not, by the way.”

SCP-9140: “Well, if we do get out, I’d like to stay in touch. Maybe we can go to that Wanderer’s Library Luz was talking about. I’ve never been, but having you two near would make me less nervous. It could be really fun.”

SCP-9200-5: “You being here has really made this a whole lot more bearable, you know? I think I’d lose it if you weren’t near.”

[SCP-9140’s eyes light up. Faint red begins to spread on its cheeks.]

SCP-9140: “T-Thanks!”

[SCP-9140’s tail waggles happily.]

End of Log

…

Update: Mental health and general mood of SCPs -9200-5, -9140, -9122, -9733, and -9500 have steadily increased over the past few weeks. Increased social interaction between anomalies has been approved. 

…

Location: Hallway 2A

Subjects: SCP-9122 and SCP-9200-5

Begin Log:

[SCP-9122 exits the office of its weekly therapist. It sighs in mild frustration and walks down the hallway. It stops when it sees two guards stationed outside of another office. SCP-9200-5 steps from the office and the guards prepare and apply its restraints. SCP-9200-2 looks at SCP-9122.]

SCP-9200-5: “Hey, Gus. You just got done with therapy?”

SCP-9122: “Yeah. Finally.”

[The guards finish applying SCP-9200-5’s restraints.]

Guard 1: “SCP-9200-5, please come with us to your cell.”

SCP-9200-5: “Can you give me a minute? I want to talk to my friend.”

Guard 2: “SCP-9200-5, do not make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

[The second guard forces SCP-9200-5 to turn and walk. It grunts in annoyance. SCP-9122 begins to walk alongside the three.]

SCP-9200-5: “Am I still not allowed to talk?”

Guard 1: “You’re allowed to carry on your conversation on the way to your cell.”

[SCP-9200-5 rolls its eyes.]

SCP-9200-5: “Wow. Thanks. Gus, how have you been?”

SCP-9122: “Same old. They’re trying to get me to open up again. I told them I don’t want to talk to them.”

SCP-9200-5: “Yeah. They never really listen. Pretty sure they have a list of questions they ask each time.”

SCP-9122: “They ask how I’m feeling and I just stare and tell them the same thing. Terrible.”

SCP-9200-5: “Yeah. Though, I do think things have gotten slightly more tolerable. Talking to people other than a therapist is good. Have you talked to Hunter’s friend?”

SCP-9122: “The human. Yeah, I have.”

SCP-9200-5: “Didn’t go well?”

SCP-9122: “She talks too much.”

SCP-9200-5: “Well, yeah, but she is one of the few people in here that seems to actually care.”

SCP-9122: “You say that. Give it time. She’ll show she’s just like every human.”

SCP-9200-5: “Don’t think that girl has a bad bone in her body. She’s actually really sweet and funny. We even started a book club.”

SCP-9122: “Good for you.”

SCP-9200-5: “Still not convinced?”

SCP-9122: “It’s going to take a lot more than that to change my mind about her.”

SCP-9200-5: “Has she actually done anything bad to you?”

SCP-9122: “No, but-.”

SCP-9200-5: “Don’t think you can really judge her until you can get to know her.”

SCP-9122: “It’s not that simple.”

SCP-9200-5: “Why?”

SCP-9122: …

SCP-9122: “I don’t want to get hurt again. Trusting others just made things worse for me. It got people I loved-.”

SCP-9122: …

SCP-9122: “I don’t want to risk it.”

SCP-9200-5: …

SCP-9200-5: “Did Luz show you her magic?”

SCP-9122: “You mean the light?”

SCP-9200-5: “How did it make you feel?”

SCP-9122: “What?”

SCP-9200-5: “When you saw it. What did you feel?”

SCP-9122: …

SCP-9122: “Surprised. I didn’t expect her to be able to do that. It was simple, but beautiful.”

SCP-9200-5: “You think she learned that so she could be destructive?”

SCP-9122: “Obviously not, but-.”

SCP-9200-5: “Or the fact she wanted to get in here so bad to see Hunter. I think most humans would rather scream and run if they saw half the things in here, but never Luz. She looks at it all with wonder and whimsy. She likes to learn and know about us. Not because she’s secretly planning to do something nefarious, but because she actually wants to be our friend. She’s probably the most open-minded human I’ve ever met. She wouldn’t have helped Hunter for so long if she wasn’t and I’ve never heard him say a bad thing about her.”

SCP-9122: “I…”

[The group arrived at SCP-9200-5’s cell. It has its restraints removed.]

SCP-9200-5: “Just give her a chance, Gus. I know you won’t be disappointed.”

[SCP-9200-5 enters its cell and the guards depart. SCP-9122 is left standing in the hallway, its mind in deep thought.]

End of Log

…

Location: SCP-9122’s containment cell.

Subjects: SCP-9122 and SCP-9733.

Begin Log:

[SCP-9122 and SCP-9733 are sitting in SCP-9122’s containment cell. SCP-9122 has just finished showing SCP-9733 a number of its light manipulation abilities. This included showing SCP-9733 a number of individuals including other AYHP anomalies and its family members and past friends. SCP-9122 goes to touch the light projection of the individual called ‘Matt’ but its hand simply moves through the projection.]

SCP-9122: “That’s the big problem. You actually can’t feel illusions. There’s no warmth. No smoothness. Just empty air.”

[Silence.]

SCP-9122: “Vee, can you…?”

[SCP-9733 tilts its head curiously.]

SCP-9122: “Never mind.”

SCP-9733: “What was it?”

SCP-9122: “Nothing. Just forget it.”

[Silence.]

SCP-9733: “You want me to turn into him, don't you?”

SCP-9122: “Vee, that’s not… I didn’t…”

SCP-9733: “It’s fine. I actually used to do that a lot. People would have me turn into family members or friends they lost so they could talk to them again. Of course, they’d get upset when I couldn’t get the voice right or I couldn’t get the finer details correct. It always felt awkward when they started crying or saying stuff like-“

SCP-9122: “Good Titania. Please stop. I already feel terrible enough for even just thinking about it.”

SCP-9733: “Gus, if it would really help you, I wouldn’t mind.”

SCP-9122: “You wouldn’t feel weird or upset?”

SCP-9733: “I’d be a lot more comfortable doing it for a friend than a stranger.”

SCP-9122: …

SCP-9122: “Okay. If you’re sure.”

SCP-9733: “Close your eyes.”

[SCP-9122 closes its eyes as SCP-9733 fully morphs into the individual called ‘Matt’.]

SCP-9733: “Okay. You can open your eyes now.”

[SCP-9122 is taken aback by SCP-9733’s appearance. It is cautious at first, but steadies itself.]

SCP-9122: “Hey, Matt. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Um, I just wanted to say that I really miss you. I… haven’t really been doing that great since you… left. Still here in this, well, prison. Still got this stupid collar on.”

…

“I’ve let my horns grow in more and my illusions are getting better. I don’t get lightheaded when I do multiple illusions at once anymore. Well, I don’t get as lightheaded anymore. Still can’t hold a candle to your earth magic.”

…

“I’ve met some new people. They’re a lot nicer than I thought they’d be. I actually don’t mind them being around that much. Finally have someone I can nerd out with about sci-fi stuff. You don’t have to pretend to like it anymore. Not like I’m replacing you or anything! It’s just nice having another person to talk to.”

…

“I’m… really sorry about what happened. If I had been strong enough or if I knew not to trust… them , then none of this would’ve happened. I guess what I’m trying to say is…”

[SCP-9122 grabs SCP-9733’s hand.]

SCP-9122: “I’m…

[SCP-9122 starts to tear up.]

SCP-9122: “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

[Silence.]

SCP-9733: “Yeesh, Augustus. Didn’t expect you to be such a crybaby. Especially over stuff that wasn’t your fault.”

SCP-9122: “W-What?”

SCP-9733: “Listen. You’re allowed to feel sad about losing me. I’d be sad if I lost someone as amazing as me too. But what I’m not allowing is you blaming yourself for it happening.”

SCP-9122: “Vee, what’re you…?”

SCP-9733: “Don’t Vee me. It’s Matt you’re talking to. And, as Matt, I’m telling you that if you asked me if I would do all that again, I would say yes in a heartbeat because you’re my friend and I wanted to see you safe.”

SCP-9122: “But if it wasn’t for me, you’d still be…”

SCP-9733: “I didn’t die because of you. I died because of these jerky lab rats. The same jerky lab rats that trapped you here in the first place. If you’re going to blame anyone, blame them. You feeling guilty isn’t going to help anyone.”

SCP-9122: “But-.”

SCP-9733: “No buts! You are not allowed to talk about yourself like that. That’s my best friend you’re talking about. You still want to “apologize?” Then you can apologize by keeping on fighting and making it so that you get out of here. Maybe take this place out, too. That’s what I want.”

[SCP-9733 grabs SCP-9122’s shoulders.]

SCP-9733: “I want you to live for me.”

[ SCP-9122 is stunned. It sniffles, trying to fight back tears and embraces SCP-9733. It returns the embrace .]

SCP-9122: “Okay. I will.”

[SCP-9733 transforms back to its original form.]

SCP-9122: “Thanks, Vee. I really needed that.”

SCP-9733: “Of course.”

SCP-9122: “What are we going to do about… those?”

[SCP-9122 points towards SCP-9733’s discarded skins.]

SCP-9733: “I’ll have to bring them to bio storage. You wanna come with me?”

SCP-9122: “Sure.”

[SCP-9733 picks up the skins and leaves the containment cell with SCP-9122 in tow.]

End of Log

…

Location: Site-99 Cafeteria

Subjects: SCP-9733, SCP-9140, and SCP-9200-5.

Begin Log:

[SCP-9733, SCP-9140, and SCP-9200-5 are seen sitting at a table eating lunch and chatting.]

SCP-9200-5: “So, what have they been testing on you guys lately?”

SCP-9733: “Still draining the same small, weird stuff they keep giving me. Yesterday, they gave me a pen that occasionally teleports five feet and a coin that always lands on its side. Amazing, right?”

SCP-9140: “At least they’re slowing down on how many tests you get a month.”

SCP-9733: “Yeah. Lilith’s requests finally got through. I still won’t feel good, but it’s something.”

SCP-9200-5: “Annoy anyone enough and you can get anything done.”

SCP-9140: “Maybe I can do that so that they’ll let me keep some plants in my cell. Still upset they wouldn’t send the flowers I grew on Hunter to me.”

SCP-9733: “The plastic ones looked pretty, though.”

SCP-9140: “Yeah. It’s the thought that counts.”

SCP-9733: “Any new stuff with you, Willow?”

SCP-9140: “They’re just having me translate Daevite scripts. The kind that makes non-Daevites' eyes bleed when they read it. So same old, same old.”

SCP-9733: “How about you, Amity? Any cool tests you’ve done?”

SCP-9200-5: “I’m not allowed to do testing anymore.”

SCP-9733: “What happened?”

SCP-9200-5: “I’m kinda too destructive and the cost of equipment and losing personnel is apparently too much.

SCP-9733: “Damn, girl.”

SCP-9200-5: “Okay. Maybe I have a bit of a temper. I can admit that. No one’s perfect. Except Willow.”

SCP-9140: “Amity!”

[SCP-9140 playfully pushes SCP-9200-5. SCP-9140 and SCP-9200-5 giggle. SCP-9733 rolls its eyes and smiles.]

End of Log  

…

Location: SCP-9122’s Room

Subjects: SCP-9122 and Luz Noceda

Note: This is the first time SCP-9122 has allowed Luz Noceda to enter its containment cell. This is also the only time SCP-9122 has allowed any baseline human to enter its cell.

Begin Log:

[SCP-9122 and Luz are sitting on the floor of the containment cell. SCP-9122 is in the middle of explaining to Luz Fae culture, history, and traditions.]

SCP-9122: “So we have four major supreme deities that encompass the concept of creativity and expression: Dreams, music, art, and stories. Fae will often show more favor to a specific deity and will become artisans to that deity’s form of expression.”

[Luz looks completely engaged.]

Luz: “I can understand what a Fae might practice when they follow three of the deities,  but how does dreaming work?”

SCP-9122: “So there’s this type of magic called oneiroimancy. It’s a type of magic centered around the manipulation of dreams and the dreamscape. Some Fae consider the dreamscape as the ultimate form of expression and creativity with no limits to imagination. You cannot have dreams without passion and you cannot have passion without dreams. It’s the inner expression of one’s true emotions and feelings. Does that make sense?”

Luz: “Totally. Go on. I’m so into this!”

[SCP-9122 smiles and continues.]

SCP-9122: “So, under those four supreme deities we have Fae who were said to have gained godhood through the actions they took on Earth or because of how they were heavily associated with a major part of Fae culture.”

“The first Fae Queen, Titania, is considered the Goddess of stars, the moon, starlight, and motherhood. Her rule basically ushered in the closest thing to a utopia in Fae history after the wars with the Yeren.”

Luz: “Yeren?”

SCP-9122: “Children of the Night. You might know them as ‘Bigfoot’.”

Luz: “I knew he was real!”

SCP-9122: “Anyways, Titania would be said to still watch over the Fae from the night sky and that she even formed the constellations themselves. We even call shooting stars ‘Titania’s Tears’ because as soon as she passed, a meteor shower occurred. Ancient Fae claimed it was Titania crying from the heavens out of sadness from leaving her Fae children.”

Luz: “That’s beautiful! Tell me about other Fae gods.”

SCP-9122: “Well, let’s see. There’s Maeve, Goddess of the hunt and vengeance. Fae warriors would pray for her to bless them with strength in battle. There’s Gaia, Goddess of nature and the Earth. We would pray to her for a good harvest and to take care of our dead when they were buried. Uh…”

[SCP-9122 taps its forehead.]

SCP-9122: “C’mon, think!”

Luz: “Don’t strain yourself. I have enough knowledge to digest already. Fae culture is just so interesting. Thanks for sharing with me!”

SCP-9122: “Oh, well, thanks for listening. I actually don’t get to talk about my culture that much. I kinda started being more tight-lipped about it after…”

[SCP-9122’s face goes sour.]

Luz: “Gus?”

SCP-9122: “Huh? Oh, sorry. It’s just nice to tell someone about it that probably won’t do anything evil with it.”

Luz: “Not an evil bone in this girl’s body.”

[SCP-9122 laughs.]

Luz: “Yeah. But thanks for inviting me. I’ll be honest. I thought you hated me.”

SCP-9122: “Oh. Well, I kinda… did?”

Luz: “Oh. But you don't anymore?”

[Luz looks at SCP-9122 with hope in her eyes.]

SCP-9122 : “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Maybe you aren’t that bad.”

[Luz gasps.]

SCP-9122: “Don’t misunderstand what I’m saying. I still don’t trust humans. I still think they can be cruel and destructive. I’ve been hurt by people who I thought were different before. I used to hate myself for being so trusting. I still kinda do. Almost all of my hope died when I got here and I was about to give up on… everyone.”

[ Luz’s excitement deflates.]

SCP-9122 : “But I don’t think you are cruel and destructive. You're one of the few humans I actually kind of… trust.”

Luz: “Really?”

SCP-9122: “When I first met you, I thought you were no good and I thought nothing good would come from me interacting with you. But…”

Luz: “But..?”

SCP-9122: “I think Hunter was right. You are different. You’re kind, understanding, open-minded, and the first human I’ve met in the wild that didn’t see me as a freak. I thought it was an act. But now…”

Luz: “Yes…?”

SCP-9122: “I think I want to be friends. If you want.”

Luz: “Yes, yes, yes, yes! I knew I could chip away at that cold exterior.”

SCP-9122: “Don’t get a big head. It was mostly Hunter and Amity putting in a good word for you.”

Luz : “Remind me to thank them, friend.”

[Luz gives a cheeky smile. SCP-9122 laughs at her ridiculous nature.]

SCP-9122: “Friend. I really like the sound of that.”

End of Log

Note: SCP-9122’s eyes have slowly started to regain the golden-yellow sparkles they had previously lost.

…

Hunter sits on the couch watching a 80’s slasher movie when Luz walks in and sits on the couch.

“Hey.”

“Hunter, can you turn off the T.V. for a sec? It’s important.”

He looked at her with slight concern, turned the T.V off and turned his attention to her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can I confess something to you?”

“Of course.”

“It’s something I’ve been holding in for a while and I wasn’t sure about telling you at first. I was really nervous it would mess our friendship up and maybe you would think I was weird.”

This must’ve been really important. Hunter had never seen Luz this serious before. “Luz? What is it? You can tell me.”

She takes a deep breath and turns to him with a serious look on her face. “I used to keep my bedroom window open because I wanted Jeff the Killer to break into my room and kidnap me so he could take me to the Slender Mansion.”

He blinks. “What?”

“I was really into Creepypasta at the time and I thought the characters were real and wanted to live with them. I even made an oc called Jack the Slasher because I thought it would make them want to take me in more. Sometimes I would walk into the woods and wait for Slenderman to snatch me up.”

Hunter breaks into laughter.

“Don’t laugh! I’m pouring my heart out!”

“Luz, I thought you killed someone or something.”

“What? No. That’d be way less embarrassing.”

“How old were you?”

“…Twelve.”

“This happened two years ago?!”

“I was a cringe preteen! Give me a break! Now I’m just a cringe teenager.” She pinches his cheeks. “And I’m with my cringe teenager best friend now.”

He slaps her hands away. “Excuse you? I am not cringe. I am based.” He pauses. “Based is the good one, right?”

“Only cringe people ask that,” she teases.

“Shut up. Why’d you even bring it up anyway?”

“I was stargazing through my window and it just popped into my head. I realized I never told you. You had a right to know. A right to know your best friend is just as cringe as you are.”

He sticks his tongue out at her. She sticks her tongue at him back.

“I didn’t know you liked to stargaze. How often do you do it?” 

Her face turns bittersweet. Hunter thinks he said something wrong before she says, “My dad and I would take his telescope out and look at the constellations all the time. He was really big into astronomy. He used to show me all the constellations and I’d try to reach up into the sky and catch them.”

“Were those sci-fi novels in the basement his?”

“Oh yeah. Dad was a big sci-fi nerd. He almost got me into it, but I strongly pivoted to Azura and magic.”

“Do you still use the telescope?”

“I tried, but it didn’t feel right to stargaze with it on my own. It felt too… lonely.”

“Your mom never stargazed?”

“She’s usually really busy with work and I didn’t want to bother her over something… stupid.”

Hunter senses the slight sadness in her tone. He thinks for a moment.

“Where did you put it?”

Luz raises her eyebrow.

.

They’re in her backyard setting up the dusty telescope. Even though it had been a while, Luz still remembered how her dad would set it up. Hunter didn’t touch the telescope. He didn’t want to feel like he was tainting something that brought Luz joy. Luz stood up and wiped imaginary sweat off her forehead.

“All right! That should do it!”

“You set that up fast.”

“Yeah. Me and dad kinda did this a lot.”

Luz stared through the telescope first, though she was cautious and a little uneasy using it after so long. Hunter gave her a reassuring look and her confidence skyrocketed. She would point the telescope to constellations and have the two of them stare at the celestial bodies in awe. Hunter would look over to Luz and would feel warm and fuzzy when he saw how happy she was. Knowing he made her happy was the best feeling in the world. He realized he was staring for a second too long and shakes his head back to reality.

The two eventually laid their backs to the ground to gaze at the full expanse of little lights dotting the night sky, their hands slightly grazing. 

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For stargazing with me, dork. What else?”

“You needed to specify,” he retorted.

She gently slapped his arm. He returned it, feeling how soft her skin was.

A peaceful silence fell between them. 

“My mom and I are going to put flowers at my dad’s grave in two weeks. It’s a little tradition we do every year on the anniversary of him passing. You should come with us.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude on anything.”

“Not at all. You’re really important to me and I want to share this with you.”

His cheeks reddened slightly.

“O-Okay.”

“You guys totally would’ve nerded out on Cosmic Frontier stuff.” 

“Ah! So we both have good taste.”

“Meh. Sub-par taste.”

He lets out a false gasp and says in a faux offended tone, “How dare! I know for a fact you were into it when you, me, and your mom watched Cosmic Frontier: Generation Next. ”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“I saw your tabs. I saw the Cosmic Frontier fan fic you were reading.”

“Ah! Lies.”

“When we visit him, I’m going to say, “Mr. Noceda, your daughter is trashing your exceptional choices in books and T.V..””

“Oh, he definitely would’ve let you call him Manny and I’d be getting double teamed by sci fi dorks.”

“Says the Azura dork.”

“Azura is high literature!”

…

They both burst out laughing. She sighs.

“He would’ve really liked you.”

He feels honored when he hears her say that.

…

Location: SCP-9500’s Containment Cell

Subjects: SCP-9500 and Luz Noceda

Begin Log:

[SCP-9500 is speaking to Luz. It looks like it hasn’t been sleeping.]

Luz: “Hey, you alright?”

SCP-9500: “Huh? Oh, yeah I’m fine I just haven’t been getting that much sleep since I got here.”

Luz: “Why’s that?”

[SCP-9500 looks away and blushes.]

SCP-9500: “No reason.”

Luz: “Hunter, what’s wrong?”

[SCP-9500 sighs.]

SCP-9500: “Okay, fine. The bed doesn’t feel right. I got so used to sleeping next to you that now that I’m alone, I just feel uncomfortable.”

Luz: “Oh no. Anything I can do?”

[Silence. SCP-9500 contemplates for several seconds before cringing to itself.]

SCP-9500: “You think you can… um… God this is going to sound so creepy and gross. You think you can bring me a sweatshirt or something you’ve worn or maybe bring some sheets sprayed with your perfume? Having something to hold that reminds me of you or… smells like you would really put me at ease.”

Luz: …

SCP-9500: “God. That was creepy and gross, wasn’t it? Just forget I said anything.”

Luz: “Huh? No, I was just working out a schedule we could do.”

SCP-9500: …

SCP-9500: “What?”

Luz: “So I’m thinking like… what? Every Saturday? I can bring you some stuff like blankets or a jacket. And then next Saturday I can pick that stuff up when it’s lost its smell and bring some new stuff.”

SCP-9500: “You don’t mind?”

Luz: “Sure, you can have my sweaty clothes.”

SCP-9500: “Don’t say it like that! God, I sound like a weird obsessive stalker.”

Luz: “Hunter, really it’s okay. Heh. Honestly, I would’ve asked the same if I wasn’t sure this place wouldn’t let you give away your uniform. I’ve… really missed holding you.”

[SCP-9500 is stunned temporarily before stammering out some words.]

SCP-9500: “Uh um, oh, uh, yeah thanks. Heh.”

Luz: “See? We’re both creepy and gross.”

[SCP-9500 smiles.]

End of Log

…

He wakes up screaming again. His clothes drenched in sweat and his heart beating out of his chest. He hyperventilates and tries to ground himself, tries to confirm this is real.

“Calm down. Remember the exercises Luz showed you, Hunter.”

He takes in deep, controlled breaths and acknowledges his surroundings. The wood paneling of the basement, the smell of old paper in the books next to him, the sound of the fan above his head.

He feels his sheets, his clothes, the floor. He’s not in that place anymore. He’s safe. He’s not in a barracks or sleeping on a stone floor in some abandoned temple filled with atrocities. This is real. 

He calms down a little and rubs his face, feeling the droplets of sweat on his forehead. He gets up and goes upstairs to the restroom. He tries not to make a sound but the stairs and their creaks don’t comply. He walks out to a hallway. It’s still dark out. He splashes water on his face and looks at his face in the mirror. 

He sees the faint scars on his face and neck and cringes. He leaves to go back to bed but hesitates. 

He really doesn’t want to be alone.

He looks to the stairs leading to the upper floor. He takes a deep breath and moves. 

He goes to Luz’s door and stands there awkwardly. He keeps trying to knock but hesitates.

“This is ridiculous. You’re not a child, Hunter. Maybe I should just go. I could sleep on the couch. No, too close to the main entrance. If someone broke in, I’d be vulnerable and they could incapacitate me. Best to have distance and a hidden location to-.”

…

“I’m thinking like a soldier again.”

He groans and hits his head on Luz’s door in frustration. He continues to debate and weigh the pros and cons. 

“God, I’m pathetic. I get scared from a nightmare and suddenly I’m 8 years old again. I should just-.”

“Hunter?”

He sighs in frustration.

Luz opens her bedroom door. She’s in her Azura-themed pajamas and rocking a sick bed head.

“Hey, you alright? I could hear you mumbling to yourself.”

He contemplates his next move. He comes up with a genius response.

“Wait a second, this isn’t the basement! Silly me! Night, Luz! Ha, ha.”

Truly genius and fool proof.

“I heard you say something about a nightmare?”

But she was no fool.

He sighs in defeat.

“I… had a really intense nightmare and it really shook me. I really don’t want to be alone right now. Can I… stay in your room?”

Her eyes light up.

“Oh, of course! Bring your stuff up.”

He shimmies uncomfortably.

“It’s not, um, just that. I was wondering if we could um…”

He mumbles something under his breath

“What’s that?”

“You remember when we stayed over at the Wanderer’s Library and we had to sleep in the same bed in the room they gave us?”

“Aww! You want to sleep next to me?”

He blushes.

“Kind of. If that’s okay with you, of course. I don’t want it to be weird or anything. Having you near would just make me a lot more comfortable.”

She leans on the doorframe with a hand on her head, feigning being flustered.

“Why Hunter! Sharing a bed? What would the neighbors think?”

“It’s NOT like that!”

She giggles. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Just like seeing you blush.”

He blushes harder but tries to hide it. He fails. 

“Come on, I got an extra pillow.” She grabs his hand and leads him to her bed. Her hand is soft in contrast to his, scarred and callused. 

She grabs the extra pillow and places it next to hers. She hops into bed and raises her sheets, inviting him in.

He shimmies next to her.

“Comfy?”

“Yeah, actually. Thanks.”

She smiles. “No problem.”

They keep this routine for the next few months. He doesn’t even have to ask her anymore, it’s expected at this point.

Don’t hog the covers!

I’m not! You just like being wrapped in a cocoon!

You’re going to let me freeze to death?

It’s the middle of Summer! 

He wakes up screaming from another nightmare. Luz wakes up from the commotion and tries to calm him down. Remind him where he is. He looks at her with tears in his eyes and embraces her.

“It was so real. I-I thought I was… oh god.”

“Shh, breathe Hunt, breathe.”

He clutches her tightly while she gives out words of comfort. Tears stain her shirt and he keeps saying sorry. She rubs the back of his head, telling him she’s here.

He listens to her rhythmic heartbeat and starts to calm down. 

“You okay?”

He sniffles. “Y-yeah, thanks.”

Silence.

“C-Can we…?”

“Yes, we can stay like this.” She plants a soft, tender kiss on his forehead. 

They end up drifting asleep. They never let go. 

…

Location: Site-99 Event Hall

Subjects: SCP-9500, SCP-9200-5, SCP-9140, SCP-9122, SCP-9733, Luz Noceda, and other humanoid anomalies.

Note: As part of the Anomalous Youth Healing Program, a special social event took place that allowed interaction between multiple Safe and Euclid humanoid, adolescent anomalies. The one exception to a Keter anomaly, SCP-9200-5, was made as long as it was accompanied by its usual security personnel.

Begin Log:

[Party lights blanket the dimmed event hall. A DJ plays music from a pre-approved list of songs including multiple popular pop and dance songs chosen for their appeal to teenage demographics. Anomalous humanoids are seen mingling, talking, and awkwardly dancing. Luz Noceda and SCP-9500, 9200-5, 9140, 9733, and 9122 are seen sitting at a table together.]

SCP-9500: “Welp, this sucks.”

[SCP-9733 bursts out laughing.]

SCP-9140: “I mean, honestly? Not as bad as I thought it would be.”

SCP-9200-5: “I expected way less.”

SCP-9733: “I mean, I don’t really have anything to compare it to. I’ve never been to a school dance.”

SCP-9122: “Closest thing that comes to mind for me are the Fae festivals held during the summer and winter solstices.”

Luz: “We’re they anything like this?”

SCP-9122: “Not at all. Those were actually fun. There’d be singing, magic shows, and the food would be amazing. We would drink nectar out of these bell flowers and we would watch the sorcerers shoot streams of light into the night sky that would turn into vibrant images.”

SCP-9733: “That sounds awesome! Ah! This sucks even more now that I have something to compare it to.”

SCP-9200-5: “Yeah. Instead, we get okay snacks and Music for Teens Volume 32.”

SCP-9500 : “If I have to listen to Ice Ice Baby one more time, I’m setting the room on fire with all of us in it.”

Luz: “Hang on, I’ll draw some fire glyphs just in case.”

SCP-9500: “Thank you.”

[A member of security walks up and confiscates the glyphs.]

Security: “No arson allowed.”

Luz: “Oh, come on!”

SCP-9733: “What type of party is this? No good music AND you can’t commit arson?”

[Security personnel walks away from the group, stowing the glyphs in his back pocket. SCP-9733 discreetly displays its middle finger towards the security personnel.]

[SCP-9733 looks at SCP-9122 .]

SCP-9733: “You wanna cause chaos?”

SCP-9122: “Absolutely.”

[SCP-9122 and SCP-9733 giddily get out of their seats and walk into the crowd.]

SCP-9500: “While those two get in trouble, I’m going to get some punch.”

Luz: “I’ll come with. I wanna eat all the snacks.”

SCP-9200-5: “Oh, Hunter, get me and Willow some, too.”

SCP-9500: “You can get your own juice. I only have two hands.”

SCP-9200-5: “Wow. And here I thought you were a gentleman.”

[SCP-9500 rolls its eyes.]

SCP-9140: “I don’t need any, Hunter. Just get Amity some.”

SCP-9200-5: “If you spit in it, I swear-.”

SCP-9500: “You’ll devour my organs in alphabetical order. I know. We’ll be back.”

[Luz and SCP-9500 move to the snack and punch table, respectfully.]

SCP-9140: “Please don’t eat our friends.”

SCP-9200-5: “I was kidding! We just like messing with each other. He knows we’re just having fun”

SCP-9140: “That’s good.”

SCP-9200-5: “Plus, I already took a bite out of him and I know he doesn’t taste good.”

SCP-9140: “Amity!”

SCP-9200-5: “That was before we were friends. I’ve apologized.”

SCP-9140: “Good.”

[Silence.]

SCP-9200-5: “You really didn’t want anything? I can go and get you some punch if you want.”

SCP-9140: “I’m fine, really.”

SCP-9200-5: “Alright, if you’re sure.”

[SCP-9140 looks around the event hall.]

SCP-9140: “It really isn’t that bad. Kinda makes me miss school dances. Have you ever gone to one?”

SCP-9200-5: “Yeah, but the ones I went to were more “fancy dinner” rather than “dance party.” Private school and all.”

SCP-9140: “Have you ever gone with anyone?”

SCP-9200-5: “No. I never really had the guts to ask out anyone. What about you? I’m sure lots of people have asked you out to dances.”

SCP-9140: “No one’s ever asked me out to the dance.”

SCP-9200-5: “No one? You only went alone?”

SCP-9140: “Well, I went with friends, but I never had an actual date. No promposals for this girl. It’s not a big deal. I still had fun. It would've been nice to get a corsage, though. I know I could’ve made my own, but it would be better if someone actually gave me one.”

[SCP-9200-5 contemplates for several seconds.]

SCP-9200-5: “Can you be a lookout real quick? Don’t want to get stopped by security.”

SCP-9140: “Um, sure? What are you going to do?”

SCP-9200-5: “You’ll see.”

[SCP-9200-5 reaches under its shirt. Several squelching noises are heard as it is seen pulling out several ribs, presumably each regenerating after each one is pulled out. SCP-9200-5 holds the rib bones in its hand and begins to bend, twist, and morph the bones in different shapes. It finishes the process and presents to SCP-9140 its own bones twisted in the imitation of a traditional corsage. SCP-9140 looks at it in awe.]

SCP-9200-5: “I know it’s a little gruesome, but any pretty girl needs a corsage for the dance.”

SCP-9140: “It’s… perfect.”

SCP-9200-5: “I was worried it would look a little crude. It's been awhile since I’ve seen a corsage so I went off memory. May I?”

[SCP-9140 happily extends its wrist and SCP-9200-5 fastens the “corsage” around it, bending a piece of bone around the wrist to hold it in place. SCP-9140 looks at it. It is unable to stop smiling.]

SCP-9140: “Amity, thank you! This is the nicest thing anyone has ever given me.”

[SCP-9200 rubs the back of its head and averts its eyes, laughing awkwardly.]

SCP-9200-5: “It’s no problem! I actually really like ‘bone turning’ so I was happy to do it. Plus, you deserve it.”

[SCP-9140 hugs SCP-9200-5, surprising it. SCP-9200-5 reciprocates the hug. The two eventually break the hug and look at each other with warm looks in their eyes. The two then both blush and look away from each other, both making comments towards the event lighting and music to quickly change the subject.]

[SCP-9122 and SCP-9733 crouch behind a table, spying on a security guard that ascertained Luz’s fire glyphs. The two give each other a nod and SCP-9122 produces a light construct around SCP-9733 in the appearance of a standard Foundation security guard. SCP-9733 moves towards the security guard and acts as a distraction as SCP-9122 sneaks up on him from behind.]

SCP-9733: “Man, looking after these kids sure does suck, doesn’t it?”

Security: “You’re telling me. I hate playing chaperone to these brats. Don’t even know why the higher ups are doing stuff like this. Just seems like a waste of time.”

SCP-9733: “Right, right.”

[SCP-9122 is now up close to the glyphs located in the security guard’s back pocket. It gestures to SCP-9733 to keep distracting the guard.]

SCP-9733: “Man, it’s crazy how us humans have to sweat to cool down.”

Security: “I hear that. When I used to work out in the field, I’d be drenched in sweat. Swear to god I sweated so much one time, I was able to-. Do you smell burning?”

[The security guard looks behind and sees that his posterior has caught on fire. Instead of doing standard fire safety protocols a.k.a stop, drop, and roll, he begins to run around in a panic and scream wildly. SCP-9733 and SCP-9122 are seen laughing as the two leave the scene to avoid possible accusations. The two are heard uncontrollably giggling as they return back to their table. The security guard’s behind was soon after put out using a fire extinguisher. The scene is considered amusing to staff.]

[SCP-9500 fills a punch cup for itself and another for SCP-9200-5 from the punch bowl. Dr. Clawthorne walks towards SCP-9500. She is seen holding SCP-2295.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Are you enjoying yourself?”

SCP-9500: “Why are you holding a teddy bear?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “SCP-2295.”

[SCP-2295 waves at SCP-9500.]

SCP-9500: “Okay, why are you holding SCP-2295?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “He likes to be held.”

[SCP-2295 is given a cup by Dr. Clawthorne. SCP-2295 begins miming drinking juice from the empty cup.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Where’s Luz?”

SCP-9500: “She’s busy hoarding all the Doritos.”

[SCP-9500 gestures towards Luz who is filling a plate with Doritos and other snacks at the table. She occasionally chats with SCP-2599 and SCP-191. The former is more receptive to the conversation, while the latter is seen attempting to shove snacks into its nonexistent mouth. The snacks crumble and fall to the floor, but this does not deter it.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “I’m glad she’s enjoying the snack table.”

SCP-9500: “Yeah.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “You didn’t answer my question.”

SCP-9500: “Hmm? Oh. The party’s fine.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Be honest.”

SCP-9500: “Okay, it’s not great, but it’s better than just sticking us in a room with a few boxes of pizza.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “We try to do more than the bare minimum.”

[Dr. Clawthorne points to SCP-191 .]

Dr. Clawthorne: “191, the robot girl. We’ve finally been making some leeway with her. She started to interact with things without initial input from researchers. She’s even started making paintings as a pastime. It seems to bring her some comfort. She’s more cheerful and receptive than how she used to be.”

SCP-9500: “That’s good.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I’m sure you were informed, but be careful when you speak to 2599. Don’t give her any demands. It really upsets her.”

SCP-9500: “You’re really trying to help, aren’t you?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do since I first joined here. I wanted to help people. Help the world. But I knew I needed to start helping the people in here as well.”

SCP-9500: “I appreciate that you’re trying to help, but-.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I’m sorry.”

SCP-9500: “Huh?”

Dr. Clawthorne: “I’m sorry that we did this to you.”

[SCP-9500 stares at Dr. Clawthorne and then to its punch.]

SCP-9500: …

SCP-9500: “I…”

Luz: “Hunter! You got the punch?”

SCP-9500: “Yeah, I’ll be right there. I should get back. Amity might rip my head off if I don’t give her her punch.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Of course. Enjoy the rest of the party, Hunter.”

SCP-9500: “Thanks. Bye 2295.”

[SCP-2295 waves its paw as SCP-9500 moves back to its table.]

[SCP-9500 and Luz return to the table. SCP-9500 hands SCP-9200-5 its juice. SCP-9500 walks over to SCP-9733 and rests its chin on its head. SCP-9733 does not seem to mind.]

SCP-9500: “So, what trouble did you guys get into?”

SCP-9122: “Nothing.”

SCP-9733: “Definitely not arson or anything nefarious.”

[Luz drops her snacks on the table and begins to eat while the group converses.]

SCP-9500: “What do you got your wrist, Willow?”

SCP-9140: “Amity made me a corsage! Isn’t it pretty?”

[SCP-9140 shows off the “corsage”.]

SCP-9500: “Is that bone?”

SCP-9140: “Yep!”

SCP-9500: “At least you guys found something to do. I’m thinking I might just go back to my room and-.”

The group of five in unison: “NO!”

SCP-9500: “Alright, alright.”

SCP-9122: “I’m actually starting to have fun. I’m sure we can get you to enjoy yourself, too.”

SCP-9733: “Yeah! We can all go dance or something.”

SCP-9500 : “I’m not dancing to Party Rock Anthem. ”

[Luz leaves the table without a word.]

SCP-9122: “What about some party games?”

SCP-9500: “Are there any even here?”

SCP-9733: “We’ll make our own. Let someone say a swear and then the next person will have to repeat it but louder each time.”

SCP-9500: “You just want to yell swears.”

SCP-9733: “Yeah! So?”

[Luz returns to the table.]

SCP-9500: “Where’ve you been?”

Luz: “Just putting in a request to the DJ.”

[The beginning notes to the song Discord by The Living Tombstone starts to play. SCP-9500 looks at Luz, eyes wide and a smile starting to creep on its face.]

SCP-9500: “You didn’t.”

[Luz smiles smugly. She grabs SCP-9500’s wrist and pulls it to the dance floor.]

[SCP-9140 sees the two move to the dance floor and immediately grabs SCP-9200-5.]

SCP-9140: “C’mon!”

[SCP-9200-5 smiles and accompanies SCP-9140. SCP-9733 and SCP-9122 come along as well.]

[The group begins to dance. The group's dance skills are questionable.]

[SCP-9500 laughs.]

SCP-9500: “We look so fucking stupid.”

Luz: “Own it!”

[The group continues to dance and laugh together.]

End of Log

Update: Mental health and general mood of SCPs -9200-5, -9140, -9122, -9733, and -9500 has increased dramatically over the past few months. 

Addendum: AYHP Chat Logs: SCP-9500, SCP-9200-5, SCP-9122, SCP-9733, and SCP-9140 were given restrictive internet access and were allowed to communicate with each other via chat on Foundation monitored chat forums such as Parawatch. All subjects were given a private server where they could interact. Luz Noceda was allowed to join after agreeing to abide by the Foundation’s non-disclosure policy. 

Chat Logs:

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: You guys here???

CarpenterQueen🥩: I’m here. It’s Amity btw.

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: Hi it’s Willow 👋

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Hey.

caprikid♑️: Gus!

Clown_chamel3on🐍: oh it’s Vee. 😅

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Hunter! Come on!

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: ??????

Hunter12345: Hey

CarpenterQueen🥩: real creative name you got there 😒

Hunter12345: I wanted people to know who I was so there wouldn’t be any confusion!

CarpenterQueen🥩: Whatever you say Gus

caprikid♑️: 💁‍♂️ hey guys it’s me Hunter. Sorry I’m late.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Hunter! I’m glad you could make it!

Hunter12345: Thanks Luz.

caprikid♑️: Thanks Luz. 

Hunter12345: Goddammit Gus.

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: ASDFGHJKLLHFS

Clown_chamel3on🐍: soooo what do you guys wanna talk about??

CarpenterQueen🥩: Be careful. They are absolutely going to read this.

Hunter12345: Awwww. And I wanted to reveal my escape plans.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: You guys wanna see all the animals I took pictures of at my mom’s work?

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: *gasps* BABIES!

caprikid♑️: SHOW EM!

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: one sec

[Luz shares multiple photos that are of various anomalous wildlife. Photos include a newborn unicorn, a tapir/baku hybrid, a short and green Alucinari-class entity , several Palisman of various appearances, and multiple insects with their heads being that of infant humans.] 

Clown_chamel3on🐍: *dies from cuteness*

Hunter12345: The bakus ended up really liking me because I would sleep near their enclosure and they would eat my dreams. It was nice not having nightmares.

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: I could really use that.

caprikid♑️: Ditto. 

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Same. I’m sick of screaming in the middle of the night.

CarpenterQueen🥩: It would make solitary confinement more bearable. No more dreams about getting blown apart.

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Wow. What is wrong with us?

CarpenterQueen🥩: What isn’t wrong with us?

Hunter12345: Luz, how’s Flapjack doing?

CarpenterQueen🥩: Who’s Flapjack? 

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Hunter’s pet.

caprikid♑️: Hunter’s baby bird.

Hunter12345: Hang on there isn’t a cardinal emoji

Hunter12345: 🐥🔴

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Baby boy. Baby.

[Luz sends a picture of a red cardinal eating wood chips.]

Hunter12345: Baby boy. Baby.

caprikid♑️: Baby

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Baby

CarpenterQueen🥩: Baby

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: Baby

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: I just took a Which Danganronpa 2 Character Are You quiz and I got Komaeda. I don’t know how to feel about that.

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Luz you wanna see something funny yet slightly disturbing?

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Always

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Alright one sec

[ SCP-9733 sends a picture of itself transformed into an appearance similar to Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair character Nagito Komaeda .]

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Hi Luz! I’m Nagito Komaeda. 

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: ASDFGHHJKJ!?!?!

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: VEE I JUST SHOT JUICE OUT MY NOSE!!!!

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Who’s Vee? My name is Nagito.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: NO YOURE NOT! 

Clown_chamel3on🐍: But, Luz, don’t you want to find true HOPE with me?

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: NO! AAAAAAAAHHH!

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Such a shame. I guess that's just my luck.

[ SCP-9733 sends a picture of its transformed self frowning .]

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: I don’t trust you, you albino twink!

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Alright I’ll bring Vee back. One sec.

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Hey Luz what did I miss??

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Nagito Komaeda tried to get me to experience true hope with him 😥😥😥

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Man that's crazy. I wish I was here for that. You want to see something else strange?

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: I’m scared

Clown_chamel3on🐍:

[ SCP-9733 sends multiple pictures of its shed skin of the character it was imitating. Certain parts of the skin have been torn, most notably the eyes .]

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: 🙃

CarpenterQueen🥩: Hunter I have a question.

Hunter12345: And I have many answers. Shoot.

CarpenterQueen🥩: Hunter you’re made from Palistrom wood, right?

Hunter12345: Yeah. Why do you ask?

[SCP-9200-5 sends images of multiple trees of various species.]

CarpenterQueen🥩: Did you know them?

Hunter12345: Amity, I swear to god.

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: Hey, Amity. Can I ask a question?

CarpenterQueen🥩: Shoot.

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: So you’ve eaten human flesh before, right?

Hunter12345: I’m terrified of where this line of questioning is going to go.

CarpenterQueen🥩: I have and still do. Why do you ask?

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: What does it taste like?

CarpenterQueen🥩: It tastes sometimes like veal, sometimes like pork. It varies from person to person.

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: It varies on the person eating or the type of person being eaten?

CarpenterQueen🥩: Yes. If you’re curious, I’d be willing to share. Maybe I can even show you some Nälkän practices while I’m at it. 

Hunter12345: No one wants to join your Meat Cult, Amity.

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: I want to join it.

CarpenterQueen🥩: Thank you, Willow.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: I too would like to join the meat cult.

CarpenterQueen🥩: All are welcome. Except Hunter.

Hunter12345: Oh. What a tragedy.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Amity let him in he’s practically crying!

Hunter12345: Luz don’t help.

CarpenterQueen🥩: I’m convinced. Hunter welcome.

Hunter12345: God dammit

caprikid♑️: No Gods or Kings. Only MEAT!

CarpenterQueen🥩: Gus you basically just summed up my entire religion. Well done.

caprikid♑️: YEAH! MEAT!

CarpenterQueen🥩: MEAT!

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: MEAT!

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: MEAT!

caprikid♑️: MEAT!

Hunter12345: MEAT!

Clown_chamel3on🐍: MEAT!

CarpenterQueen🥩: MEAT! MEAT! MEAT!

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: 🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩

Hunter12345: The hell are we doing?

Clown_chamel3on🐍: I don’t know. I just wanted to be a part of the group.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Hooray for mob mentality!

CarpenterQueen🥩: Hey Hunter.

Hunter12345: What?

CarpenterQueen🥩: Hunter.

Hunter12345: What??

CarpenterQueen🥩: Hunter hey.

Hunter12345: What is it???

CarpenterQueen🥩: Hey Hunter hey.

Hunter12345: What!?

CarpenterQueen🥩: Bitch. 

Hunter12345: 😑

CarpenterQueen🥩: 😈

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: What do you guys think of my Azura cosplay 👉👈

[Luz sends an image of herself in a costume similar to the character of Azura from The Good Witch Azura book series.]

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: CUTE!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

CarpenterQueen🥩: AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜. THANK YOU GOD FOR MAKING CUTE GIRLS!!!!!!

Hunter12345: I know it’s only been five minutes but I’ve been staring at this picture for hours. I’m incapable of looking away. 

caprikid♑️: Amazing! Astonishing! Outstanding!

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Luz are you THE Good Witch Azura because this is really convincing?

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: 🥹🥰

Hunter12345: I really love you guys

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Awwwwww!🥹❤️❤️

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: Hunter! Love ya too!

Clown_chamel3on🐍: You too. I’m really glad you’re my friend

caprikid♑️: I’m glad I met you.

CarpenterQueen🥩 Reply to Hunter12345: Awwwww! Faggot.

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: Asdfhjfsakhg

caprikid♑️: LOL

Clown_chamel3on🐍: 🤣🤣🤣

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Amity!

Hunter12345: I pour my heart out and this is what I get!? /jk

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: Don’t worry Hunter that’s just how she shows love

Hunter12345: Does she do that to you?

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: Well, no.

caprikid♑️: Literally never.

Clown_chamel3on🐍: She’s always nice to me.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: complete sweetheart 

Hunter12345: I’m killing myself.

CarpenterQueen🥩: keep me out of the note

Hunter12345: 🖕

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: If I’m not allowed to do it, neither are you

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Willow!

caprikid♑️: Guys suicide pack who’s with me?

CarpenterQueen🥩: oh Hell yeah

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: do it in front of a researcher. Scar them for life.

CarpenterQueen🥩: 👆👆👆

Hunter12345: To any researchers reading this. This is a JOKE.

Clown_chamel3on🐍: To any researchers reading this. This is not a joke and we’re all going to do it.

Hunter12345: You let me down, Vee.

Clown_chamel3on🐍: It’s what I do best! 👉😎👉

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Guys I can’t join the group suicide. My mom would be sad.

caprikid♑️: BOOOOOOOOO!

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: I’m sorry! I’ll do it in Minecraft.

Hunter12345: There is something severely wrong with ALL of us.

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: I think it makes us unique 

CarpenterQueen🥩: I think it makes us traumatized 

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Welcome to the Trauma Club! We have snacks.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: I don’t think I have enough wrong with me to be in Trauma Club. 😓😓😓

caprikid♑️: Luz! Trauma dump and we’ll decide

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Uhhhhhhhhhh. I have a dead parent and I was bullied? Is that enough?

caprikid♑️: Council?

CarpenterQueen🥩: Yae

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: Yae

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Yae

Hunter12345: *sigh* Yae

caprikid♑️: and a Yae from me as well. Luz. As president of the trauma club I now decree you a member. Everyone clap hands. 👏

CarpenterQueen🥩:👏

🌺flytrappzzz🍄:👏

Clown_chamel3on🐍: 👏

Hunter12345: 👏

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: *sniffles* I’m honored 🥹🥹

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Hunter!

Hunter12345: What?

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Whatcha doing?

Hunter12345: About to go to sleep.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Nooooooo!

Hunter12345: No?

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: I wanna talk!

Hunter12345: Talk to the others. I’m sleepy.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Willow, Amity, and Gus aren’t online and I’m still traumatized by Vee skinning Nagito Komaeda

Hunter12345: Who?????

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Talk to me!!!

Hunter12345: Alright, alright.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Yay! 💜

Hunter12345: Yay 😑💛

Hunter12345: What did you want to talk about?

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Would you still like me if I was a worm?

Hunter12345: I’m logging off.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Hunter! Wait! Don’t!

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: 🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Hunter12345: 😒

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: 🥺

Hunter12345: Of course I would. I’d make a terrarium full of dirt and dead leaves for you.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: AWWWWW!

Hunter12345: Is that it? Can I sleep now?

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: I have one more question and they’ll I’ll leave you alone. Promise.

Hunter12345: Okay what is it?

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: You remember when you were telling me about how your therapy was going and how you told your therapist you had a reason to keep going?

Hunter12345: Yeah.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Sooooooo I was just wondering 👉👈

Hunter12345: 🙄Yes, Luz. You are my reason.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Just wanted to see you say it. Okay that’s all I wanted. Byyyyyyyeeeeee!

Hunter12345: Night, Luz.

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: Why weren’t you guys at breakfast? I wanted to eat together.

caprikid♑️: I slept in. 😴

Hunter12345: I woke up late and decided to do my workout instead.

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: You guys missed out. They had French toast sticks today.

caprikid♑️: TOASTIES!?!?!? I MISSED TOASTIES!?!?!?

Hunter12345: The ONE time I skip breakfast and they had French toast sticks!?

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: They were really good, too.

caprikid♑️: 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫

Hunter12345: *falling to my knees*

[ Luz sends an image of multiple possums digging through the contents of a knocked over trash can .]

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Us 😊

[SCP-9140 sends an image of a group of Venus Flytraps .]

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: Us 😊

[ SCP-9122 sends an image of a group of rats “dancing” in a circle with the caption: Rat Rave .]

caprikid♑️: Us 😊

[All three give a heart emoticon to each other’s images.]

Hunter12345: Luz, did Dean and Cas get together yet?

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Not yet.

Hunter12345: Still!?

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: Are you guys talking about Supernatural?

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Is that the show with the angry and repressed bisexual, gay angel with autism, and man with the best hair I’ve ever seen? 

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Hunter walked past me watching it and started watching when he saw Dean shirtless.

Hunter12345: Pretty sure that was the moment I found out I was Bi. 

CarpenterQueen🥩: Ew. Boy kisser

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Boooo

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Boy kisser 🤮

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: Disgusting 

caprikid♑️: Can’t believe I’m friends with a boy kisser.

Hunter12345: OVER HALF THE PEOPLE IN THIS CHAT LIKE BOYS!!!

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Like seriously. At least pick a side.

Hunter12345: YOU ARE A RAGING BISEXUAL!

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: You have no proof!

Hunter12345: Oh? Is you kissing me not proof enough?

Clown_chamel3on🐍: AYE YO!?

caprikid♑️: 🤯😱🤯😱

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: *GASPS!!!!*

CarpenterQueen🥩: I KNEW YOU TWO WERE TOGETHER! 🫵

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: IT WAS A PRACTICE KISS! IT WAS A PRACTICE KISS!

CarpenterQueen🥩: Luz you are kicked out of the anti boy kisser club.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Aw man. Hunter, this is your fault!

Hunter12345: I regret absolutely nothing.

caprikid♑️: Hang on I know how to make this right. We are no longer the anti boy kisser club we are now the Skittle Squad.

CarpenterQueen🥩: I’m open to that. Dibs on the red Skittle.

Clown_chamel3on🐍: I call green.

caprikid♑️: As leader of the Skittle Squad, I will take orange, the best flavor.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: I choose purple. Purple flavor is the best.

Hunter12345: You mean grape?

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: It does not taste like grape at all. It tastes like the embodiment of purple.

Hunter12345: I guess I’ll take yellow.

CarpenterQueen🥩: Wait! Willow doesn’t have one! That’s all the colors.

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: I’ll be different and choose the pink strawberry Skittle from Tropical Skittles.

Clown_chamel3on🐍: No one told me we could use non-original Skittle flavors! Hang on.

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Guys did you know there are 150 Skittle flavors!?

caprikid♑️: One for every fruit.

🌺flytrappzzz🍄: There’s actually around 2000 different types of fruit.

caprikid♑️: I changed my mind. We are now the Fruit Bowl.

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: Nooo! Skittle Squad has the alliteration. It makes it fun to say!

Hunter12345: I’m on Luz’s side on this one. Skittle Squad is perfect.

CarpenterQueen🥩: Quiet boy kisser

Hunter12345: YOU ARE THE ONLY NON BOY KISSER HERE!!!

CarpenterQueen🥩: No I’m not. Vee back me up.

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Amity I haven’t been completely honest with you.

CarpenterQueen🥩: Et tu, Vee? 

Clown_chamel3on🐍: Et tu. I’ll get the knife. 🔪 

Hunter12345: 🔪

CarpenterQueen🥩: Don’t you dare.

Hunter12345: *stabs you*

CarpenterQueen🥩: Rude! *Bites you*

Hunter12345: Ow. Luz avenge me

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: *Bites both of you.*

Hunter12345: : *Bites you lovingly.*

CarpenterQueen🥩: *Bites her more lovingly.*

GoodwitchLuzura🪄: *Bites both of you lovingly.*

Clown_chamel3on🐍: You guys are so gay. Skittle Squad was accurate.

End of Chat Logs

…

“Okay. That’s enough bones for today.” 

Hunter and Luz had spent their entire Saturday afternoon searching for bones in the woods. They had a pretty good hall. Some raccoon bones, some deer, even a coyote skull. Hunter had the designation of “bag boy” where he would carry the trash bag of remains if Luz picked up the remains. The two made it far into the woods, making their way to Gravesfield Lake. They ended up staying out longer than expected because Luz wanted to keep moving to see if they could find anything else. It was almost like she was trying to distract herself.

“Oh. Yeah, it is getting late, isn’t it?”

Hunter stretches. “Let’s rest our legs first, then we’ll go back.”

“Okay.”

The two sit on a log gazing out at the lake. The twilight of the setting Sun gives a special kind of beauty to the moment. Hunter looked over at Luz grimacing.

“Okay. What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You keep scrunching up your face and shaking your head. I know that means something is frustrating you.”

“Everything is perfectly fine.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

…

“Okay, maybe something has been bothering me.”

“Wow. Who would’ve guessed?”

“Promise me you won’t laugh.”

“I promise I’ll try.”

She takes a deep breath.

“So there’s this girl at school that I kinda like and I was thinking about asking her out. But…”

“But?”

“It’s stupid.”

“C’mon. You think I’ll judge you?”

“No. It’s… it’s just… okay so I might’ve thought through how a potential date with her could go and I have everything planned out except for one thing.”

“Which is?”

“The… kissing part?”

Hunter laughs.

“I’m serious, you jerk!”

He wipes a tear from his eye. “Okay. So what’s the actual issue with the kissing part?”

“I never even kissed anyone.”

“Me neither. Surprise! We’re both losers.”

“Shame I can’t ask you for pointers then. I need someone who has kissing experience to give me advice. Like, when is it the right moment to actually initiate a kiss? What are the signs? Do I lean in first? Does she? What type of lip balm should I use? Should I even use lip balm? Is that too much? Hunter, what do I do?” Her face goes into her hands as she falls into teenaged despair.

“I feel like you shouldn’t put that much thought into it. It should happen naturally.”

“But it’s my first kiss! It should be electric! It should be perfect! And unless you want to kiss me for practice, I’m doomed.”

There is silence between them. The only sound being the wind and the rustling leaves.

“Do you want to?”

She’s temporarily stunned by his words. “What?”

“Like for practice. Good way to build some experience.”

A shade of crimson spreads across her face. The shade is apparently contagious as Hunter gains it as well

“Not to be weird! I just thought that since we both didn’t have any experience and since we trust each other it would feel safe and easy and we wouldn’t have to worry about embarrassing ourselves or anything and I’m going to shut up now just forget everything I said! Okay? Okay!”

Silence.

“I’d be willing to try if you are.”

“Oh.”

“One stipulation.”

“What?”

“You’re not allowed to fall in love with me.”

“Aw man, well there goes all my plans.”

“I know it sounds almost impossible because I’m just so enchanting.”

She strikes a pose meant to give a sense of allure but it just makes her look like a dork. A cute dork, but still a dork.

He laughs. “So enchanting. But you’re sure? Things won’t feel weird afterwards?”

“Only if you make it weird.”

“Well, we’re both pretty weird so we already failed.”

“Not that weird.”

“Luz. I am made of wood and you check out books from a magic library on a snake’s back.”

“Okay maybe a little weird, but there’s nothing wrong with some weirdness.”

“True.”

…

“So?”

“So?”

“C-Can I kiss you?”

She nearly loses it when she hears him say that. “Right! Practice kissing. Let’s do it!”

“So how do we…?”

“Well, it’s just smooshing your faces together, so maybe let’s just…”

Both start to move in, pausing only to laugh nervously. Their eyes are focused on the other’s lips. They’re so focused in fact, they hit their foreheads before they even get the chance for their lips to touch. They rub the soreness on their foreheads to relieve it.

“Ow.”

“Okay. Tip 1: Don’t do that.”

“Shut up! You act like you didn’t do it, too.”

“Okay, okay. Maybe just… close our eyes and move in?”

“Yeah. Yeah I think that would work.”

They close their eyes and move in, tilting their heads. Time seems to slow. Their lips touch. The kiss is soft and pleasant. They melt into each other slightly, letting themselves relax and lean in more. Hunter decides to improv and gently places his hand on her cheek. Luz moves her hand to slightly caress his hand, giving light touches to Hunter’s skin.

The kiss lasts about 30 seconds. When they pull away, they both have unreadable expressions. Happiness? Disappointed? Surprised? They gaze into each other’s eyes for a few moments.

Luz breaks the silence.

“Not bad. No notes.”

“No complaints here.”

They both laugh awkwardly 

They don’t talk for a while after that.

They both spend most of the night thinking about it. The next day, neither of them bring it up. Soon things just go back to normal. Luz badgers Hunter about some new project she’s working on, usually involving raccoon carcasses, and Hunter watches in abject horror and intrigue as Luz Frankenstein's a new creation. They have fun at the Wanderer’s Library, having sleepovers and debating about which genres are better, science fiction or fantasy. Both ends with them agreeing both have their merits. More volunteering at Camila’s work and sneaking Flapjack extra wood chips.

Luz doesn’t bring up how the kiss felt like electricity shooting through her system. How it made her feel alive and vibrant. How it made her heart race and her blood pump. 

Hunter doesn’t bring up how warm and pleasant it was. How it felt that all his worries didn’t exist in that brief moment. How in that single moment he felt absolutely safe.

It just becomes a funny thing they did once.

…

So funny.

…

She didn’t end up asking out that girl.

…

The following log is classified as requiring Level 4 clearance. Please input your credentials. If this document is above your clearance level, please leave the document now or face disciplinary action.

730498LC

Credentials Accepted.

Welcome, Dr. Clawthorne.

.

.

.

Addendum: Site-99 Incident Log

At 9:09 p.m., a series of events involving a mass site wide containment breach and an infiltration by a group of Chaos Insurgency agents unfolded in Site-99 that resulted in the eventual mass destruction of the site and loss and neutralization of multiple anomalies. 

Below is a full log of events including relevant events before said major event for context.

Begin Log:

[O5-2 peers through the reinforced glass of SCP-[REDACTED]’s containment chamber. They smile solemnly as they watch SCP-[REDACTED] glide through the artificial forest in its containment chamber. SCP-[REDACTED] lands in its nest made from large tree branches and animal bones located in the largest tree in the enclosure.]

[Dr. Clawthorne approaches O5-2, but O5-2’s bodyguards step in front of her. Dr. Clawthorne rolls her eyes.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “Raine, do you mind calling off your guards?”

[O5-2 turns slightly and smiles at Dr. Clawthorne .]

O5-2: “At ease.”

[O5-2’s guards move aside, allowing Dr. Clawthorne to pass. She walks past the guards and embraces O5-2.]

Dr. Clawthorne: “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Raine.”

O5-2: “You too, Lily. How’s Eda been doing?”

Dr. Clawthorne, teasingly: “You’d know if you’d visit more often.”

O5-2: “I know, I know. Unfortunately, being a part of a group of the most powerful members of the Foundation doesn’t give you a lot of free time. Speaking of, you really should be calling me O5-2, Dr. Clawthorne.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Well, while we’re at it, we technically should also be calling Eda SCP-[REDACTED]. So we’re both guilty.”

[O5-2 laughs.]

O5-2: “Fair, fair. Though maybe we should catch up in private. Because technically, everything I’m saying is a security risk.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Wanna grab a tea and go to my office?”

O5-2: “I would love that. Let me just say goodbye to Eda.”

Dr. Clawthorne: “Take your time, you love birds.”

[O5-2 laughs but then stone faces.]

O5-2: “Not funny.”

[Dr. Clawthorne leaves as O5-2 continues to gaze towards SCP-[REDACTED].]

…

[SCP-9500, along with SCPs -9200-5, -9140, -9122, -9733, and Luz Noceda are seen sitting in a specially reserved room for small get togethers. Multiple blankets, pillows, and floor mattresses are piled together on the floor. The group is doing a number of activities. Luz and SCP-9122 are playing Mario Kart on the Nintendo Switch Luz brought over.]

Luz: “Gus, I swear if you drop another banana peel in front of me I’m going to scream.”

SCP-9122: “You’re acting like you haven’t been launching green shells at me the entire race. They don’t even lock onto you! You are deliberately aiming them at me. This is revenge!”

Luz: “I’m knocking you off Rainbow Road.”

SCP-9122: “Don’t you dare. Luz. Luz no!”

[SCP-9122 lets out a high pitched scream. Luz laughs maniacally.]

[SCP-9200-5 is brushing SCP-9140’s hair while it reads a book on agriculture. SCP-9200-5 is seen eating from a bowl containing human teeth.]

SCP-9200-5: “-and the song itself is meant to be sung by five individuals but, in Nälkän festivals, it’s performed by a single singer who possesses five separate mouths that all harmonize with each other.”

SCP-9140: “Are there any instrumentals involved?”

SCP-9200-5: “Yes! A lot of the instruments are usually drums made by stretching skin over the top or woodwinds made from femur bone.”

SCP-9140: “Oooooh.”

[SCP-9500 and SCP-9733 are seen playing UNO. SCP-9500 possesses one card in its hand while SCP-9733 possesses three. The two are staring each other down intensely. SCP-9733 pulls a card from its hand and holds it in front of it with two fingers.]

SCP-9500: “Don’t. You. Dare.”

[SCP-9733 smirks before dramatically revealing the card in its fingers to be a Draw-4 card. SCP-9500 silently seethes before composing itself and drawing four cards from the deck.]

SCP-9500: “I hate this game.”

SCP-9733: “The color is yellow.”

SCP-9500: “I have no yellow! God!”

[SCP-9500 draws a card. It then draws another card. Then another. SCP-9733 is seen chuckling to itself with the chuckles getting louder with each draw. SCP-9500 is seen holding twelve cards in its hand. It looks mildly frustrated.]

SCP-9500: “Okay. Yellow 7.”

[SCP-9733 slams one of its two cards down. It is a yellow 3.]

SCP-9733: “UNO!”

[SCP-9500 smirks and places a green 3 down, changing the color. This does not matter as SCP-9733 slams down yet another Draw-4 card.]

SCP-9733: UNO! I win!

[SCP-9500 slumps in defeat.]

SCP-9500: Why?

SCP-9733: I am a master of strategy!

…

[Video footage shows several armed individuals entering Site-99. Several of the individuals proceed to capture several staff members and non fatally injuring multiple on site security guards. The assumed leader of the group questions a captured staff member. During this, one of the armed individuals is seen slinking off away from the main group. The individual is not seen with the main group of agents for the remainder of the event.]

…

[The site wide intercom turns on with an automated message.]

Intercom: Attention to all Site-99 inhabitants. This is an automated message. Warning: This is not a drill. A site wide containment breach is currently in progress. Repeat. A site wide containment breach is currently in progress. All occupied containment cells have been compromised. All staff are to secure themselves in the on-site safe room. If you are unable to access the safe room due to an outside factor, please secure yourself in the room closest to you and barricade all doors until breach has been contained. Thank you.

[The group looked at each other with confusion and concern on their faces. The intercom plays again.]

Intercom: Attention to all Site-99 inhabitants. This is an automated message. Warning: This is not a drill. The site is currently under attack by a hostile group of interest. They are assumed to be armed and dangerous.  All staff are to secure themselves in the on-site safe room. If you are unable to access the safe room due to an outside factor, please secure yourself in the room closest to you and barricade all doors until the attack has been resolved by on site security and MTFs. Thank you.

[SCP-9500 noticeably tenses up when it hears this announcement. It stands up and goes to the door of the cell. A guard opens the door.]

Security: “Please do as the announcement said. Remain in your room until the threat has been neutralized.”

SCP-9500: “You don’t understand. I know who the attackers are. They’re-.”

[A scream is heard down the hallway.]

Security: “Stay in your room and let the professionals handle this.”

[The guard, ignoring SCP-9500’s protesting, leaves and moves toward the origin of the scream. SCP-9500 quickly closes the door.]

SCP-9500: “Dammit!”

Luz: “Hunter? What’s wrong?”

SCP-9500: “They’re here.”

SCP-9140: “Who?”

SCP-9500: “The Insurgency. They found me.”

Luz: “Those psychos are here!?”

SCP-9500: “I’m sure of it. They’ll tear this whole place down to try and find me.”

SCP-9200-5: “I thought you said they thought you were dead.”

SCP-9500: “I thought so, but…”

[SCP-9500 opens the door a crack and peers through. A faint male scream is heard in the distance along with several gunshots.]

SCP-9500: “It doesn’t matter. We’re all in danger here.”

SCP-9733: “Okay. So, what do we do?”

SCP-9500: “I’M going to go out there and try to talk them down. Or they’ll capture me. It doesn’t matter. I need to stop them.”

SCP-9200-5: “It’s funny that you think we’re going to let you go alone.”

SCP-9500: “What?”

[The group continues this back and forth until SCP-9500 relents and agrees for the group to accompany it. SCP-9733 is seen shifting into its default human disguise to aid in quicker movement. The group steps into the empty hall. The group decides to take the opposite direction of where the previous scream was heard. The group walks for several minutes, coming across clutter left on the ground, most likely dropped by researchers who went to shelter themselves. The group reaches a corner, but are abruptly stopped by SCP-9500. The group peer around the corner to see a gruesome sight. Down the end of the hallway are three instances of SCP-939 devouring the fresh corpse of the previous security guard. The group whispers and debates their next move. During this, SCP-650 is seen to have positioned itself behind SCP-9122. SCP-9122 senses an odd feeling and quickly turns around before being startled by SCP-650. The fright causes it to fall and domino the group out into the hall, alerting the SCP-939 instances. The SCP-939 instances roar and run toward the group, causing the group to quickly flee. The group runs to an intersection of four interconnected hallways. They debate which route to take before hearing the SCP-939 instances and all panicking and deciding to quickly split up and take different directions . SCP-9733 and SCP-9122 run towards the northwestern section of the facility . SCP-9500 and Luz run towards the northeastern section of the facility . SCP-9140 and SCP-9200-5 run towards the center of the facility . Each group is chased by a SCP-939 instance.]

…

[SCP-9500 and Luz run for several minutes from the SCP-939 instance before quickly taking shelter in a vacant research lab. The two remain quiet until the SCP-939 instance passes. Both breathe a sigh of relief and allow themselves to momentarily rest.]

Luz: “You think the others are okay?”

SCP-9500: “I’m sure they are. They definitely have more ways of dealing with those things than we do. Speaking of. Do you have any glyphs on you?”

Luz: “I didn’t draw any down. I didn’t expect us to be running for our lives.”

SCP-9500: “I’m sure we can find some paper and a pen here.”

[The two begin to look for the needed supplies for Luz. Luz eventually acquires what she needs and sits down to draw several glyphs on pieces of paper.]

Luz: “Are you really going to give yourself up?”

SCP-9500: “It would be the quickest and best way to at least handle one of our problems. Less people die and it would give Lilith and the other researchers more room to get things under control.”

Luz: …

SCP-9500: “Luz, I know that silence. What’s wrong?”

Luz: “You know what’s wrong! I’m not going to let my friend get captured by another group of psychos.”

SCP-9500: “Luz…”

Luz: “Don’t “Luz” me! I lost you once and I’m not going to lose you again.”

SCP-9500: “But-.”

Luz: “No buts! I forbid you from being a “hero” and sacrificing yourself.”

[SCP-9500 smiles in disbelief.]

SCP-9500: “You forbid me? Really?”

Luz: “Yep! And that’s a nonnegotiable order.”

SCP-9500: “Luz I-.”

Luz: “Nope.”

SCP-9500: “Can we just-!”

Luz: “Nuh-uh.”

[SCP-9500 sighs.]

SCP-9500: “Alright, fine. God, you’re stubborn.”

Luz: “Got it from my mom. Alright, I think that’s enough glyphs. I’ll carry some extra paper if we need more.”

[The two slowly exit the research lab and step into the hall. The two debate on where to go next, before deciding they should go towards the main entrance of the facility. The two walk to a hallway that splits into two directions. While the two debate on which direction is best, SCP-1370 is seen walking in the background. It notices the two. SCP-1370 approaches the two and announces its presence.]

SCP-1370: “Cower in my presence worms and I might just spare your insignificant lives! If you are foolish enough to face me, then bring out your swords and be prepared to be annihilated by the horrifying Pesterbot!”

[Silence.]

[SCP-9500 walks over to SCP-1370 and lightly kicks it, causing it to immediately break apart. SCP-9500 walks back to Luz and the two decide to take the hallway on the left.]

…

[SCP-9122 and SCP-9733 run through multiple hallways as the SCP-939 continues to chase them. SCP-9122 suddenly forms a blue aura of thaumaturgic energy around the two, earning mild confusion from SCP-9733. The thaumaturgic energy splits from the two, creating identical light constructs of the two. The light constructs begin to act as distractions, causing the SCP-939 instance to move its attention to the constructs. SCP-9733 and SCP-9122 take shelter in a broom closet as the constructs and the SCP-939 instance pass them, going down another hallway. SCP-9733 and SCP-9122 breathe a sigh of relief and exit the closet.]

SCP-9733: “How long will that illusion last?”

SCP-9122: “I’ve gotten better at keeping them active longer. They should keep it busy long enough to…”

[SCP-9122 pauses.]

SCP-9122: “I’ve never been to this part of the site before.”

SCP-9733: …

SCP-9733: Neither have I…”

SCP-9122: “You remember how many turns it took to get to the main hallway?”

SCP-9733 : “Ugh, no. But it would probably be smartest to not go in that direction.”

[SCP-9733 gestures down the hallway the SCP-939 instance and two light constructs ran through.]

SCP-9733: “So I guess…”

[SCP-9733 gestures to the opposite direction. The two shrug and begin to move down the hallway.]

SCP-9733: “Might be best to go to the main entrance. Let’s just hope we can avoid any more of those things.”

SCP-9122: “Yeah.”

[The two walk for several minutes in silence. SCP-9122 breaks the silence.]

SCP-9122: “You see Luz running off with Hunter?”

SCP-9733: “Yep. Girl’s down bad.”

SCP-9122: “Hunter is, too. Did I tell you about how I found him sniffing a sweatshirt she gave him?”

SCP-9733: “You’re kidding.”

SCP-9122: “He tried to play it off that he was just sniffing the type of detergent that was used. Didn’t explain why he had her sweatshirt in the first place.”

SCP-9733: “Those two should just date already.”

SCP-9122: “Like, just do it already. Take the leap!”

SCP-9733: “Wanna bet on it? Bet how long it takes?”

SCP-9122: “Oh, you’re on!”

SCP-9733: “I’ll bet they’ll get together within three months.”

SCP-9122: “I’ll say ten months. Those two can be kinda dense with this type of stuff.”

SCP-9733: “Yeah, you’re right. Like, guys, friends don’t stare at each other like that.”

SCP-9122: “They especially don’t kiss each other that much.”

SCP-9733: “That “practice” kissing confession was hilarious.”

SCP-9122: “Yeah, we’re just friends but we cuddle, stare longingly into the other’s eyes, and kiss sometimes. Normal best friend stuff.”

SCP-9733: “It’s just what besties do.”

SCP-9122: “Still going with the three months?”

SCP-9733: “Hmmm. I’ll change it to five months. Deal?”

SCP-9122: “Deal.”

[The two shake hands.]

SCP-9122: “Wait, what does the winner get? Because I don’t have any money.”

SCP-9733: “I… don’t either. I’m sure we'll figure something out by then.”

SCP-9122: “Wanna throw Amity and Willow in while we’re at it?”

SCP-9733 : “Oh my god, don’t even get me started. They are so into each other.”

SCP-9122: “I know Willow’s been way happier ever since she met her.”

SCP-9733: “Like, making a corsage out of your own ribs to give to someone is absolutely NOT platonic, right?”

SCP-9122: “Absolutely not. That is literally how my mom asked out my dad.”

SCP-9733: “Seriously?”

SCP-9122: “Fae traditions are weird. Do basilisks have any weird traditions?”

SCP-9733: “I read up that we give our discarded skins to our mates so that they can consume them and be one with each other.”

SCP-9122: “Oh, Amity would love that.”

[The two walk for several more minutes, occasionally commenting on any odd things they see. The two eventually make their way to the main hallway. The two celebrate before the two light constructs that SCP-9122 made pass by them and finally dissipate. The two stare at where the construct dissipated with mild concern. The concern is valid as the SCP-939 instance barrels towards their direction. The two prepare to run before SCP-[REDACTED] tackles and proceeds to effortlessly tear the SCP-939 instance apart. SCP-9122 and SCP-9733 begin to cheer before SCP-[REDACTED] looks at the two, still looking hungry.]

SCP-9122: …

SCP-9733: …

SCP-[REDACTED]: *Growls.*

SCP-9733: “Um…”