#fake SCP: -49

[random-things-thoughts13]

Fake SCP alert what is written below isn't a real scp

Thou i am working on one of my own, hit writer's block with it . Right now im bored and wanted to touch up my writing

item #: -49

Object class: safe

Special containment procedures: -49 is to be kept in a observation lab at site 13, due to -49 rather easy going nature its allowed to roam the lab freely as well as the floor its on as long as last one staff member is with it.

Description: -49 is a plague doctor plush toy from the brand squishable and is 14.5in × 13.5in × 17in in size and out of 100% polyester fibers. It carries around a small lap that seems to double as it's medical bag and can be seen pulling out smaller versions of medical tools and bandages from it. -49 can't speak and well try to communicate thou body movements and squeaks.

-49 is usually on top of the main table in its observation lab, often writing in a small book that it keeps in its lab and so far hisses at anyone who asks to see it. It has been seen reading medical books and has shown to have high intelligence.

The foundation came across -49 when receiving an anonymous tip of an anomaly in a abandon house the was roughly [Redacted] miles away from site 13. When task force first encountered -49 it was in one of the upper rooms of the house,seemly looking for something when seeing the task force it hissed at them and quickly hid in one of the nerby rooms and attacking agent [Redacted] when entering the room.

The body cameras from the task force shows -49 coming out from under a bed and running up to agent [redacted] before starting to hit the agent in the shin with its lamp while aggressively squeaking, doing no damage to the agent and was easily contained.

[morning-star-whump]

Smile for the Camera! 17

Chapter 17: Fake it Till You Make It

Masterlist || Previous

Someone has to pay for Alex's crimes...

CW: Mention of death, grief of a loved one, captivity whump

Tag List: @livingforthewhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thebaffledtiewriter @whumpkinpie @pretty-writing-things @make-it-gay-please @onlywhump @heeheehooho0 @basicallyachild2004 @susiequaz12 @pickywhumpreader @shameless-dumbass @scp-1296 @burningkittypoet @tiredghostboi @painsandconfusion @whump-queen @ilickedanenvelopeandilikedit

Nathan turned his computer and camera on. He was on the first floor of his cabin, surrounded by wigs and hair styling supplies. His peppy persona was in full force. He was so excited for this punishment.

“Hey, everyone!” He greeted his viewers with a wave. “So, yesterday, Alex tried to stab me. Idiot.” He broke down into laughter. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just funny how stupid he is. Anyway, I told him if he tried to attack me, one of his family members would get hurt. So that’s what we’re doing today.” He gestured to his equipment. “Now, obviously, I can’t go back to Chicago and kill someone. I only kill the boys I kidnap because by the time I do, they’re already presumed dead. Killing out of the blue could be traceable, I’m not stupid enough for that. Even if I’m in a different state.”

Nathan began slowly pacing around his room. “Still, I promised Alex I’d bring a piece of his loved ones when they ‘die.’” He used air quotes on the last word. “That’s what all this is for. Now, I have a selection of wigs because I haven’t yet decided which one I’m going to tell him I killed.” 

He held up a Polaroid to the camera. It was a candid, a side profile. A woman was walking out of a hospital building in light blue scrubs. Her wavy, dark brown hair blew in the wind, contrasting the light sky against her. “This is Selena Diaz, Alex’s mother. Single mom, the only family he has as far as I know.”

He removed Selena’s picture and held up another Polaroid. A boy with blue eyes was walking home from school, holding the straps of his red backpack. His curly brown hair framed his face as he looked at the ground, his steps small. “And Jordan Fielding. Alex’s boyfriend. Teen romance, isn’t it beautiful?”

He started pressing buttons on his computer. “I’m starting a poll, you guys! Which one should I tell him is dead today? Mother or boyfriend?”

While he waited for the votes to roll in, he updated the chat on how his sixth plaything was doing. He apologized for Alex’s behavior, ruining his face not once, but two times. He told them how proud he was that his toy had withstood thirty-two lashes, even if he was breaking rules while doing it. He made sure they knew every last detail.

“Ah, you guys tied it– Nope! One last vote to push it over the edge?” Nathan squinted at the results. 51% Jordan, 49 % Selena. “Jordan it is.”

“So, Jordan’s hair is curly and dark brown. So let’s use this one.” He picked up the curly, ginger wig. “We’re going to have to dye this, and curl it a little bit more, but it’ll do.”

He cut off a short lock of hair and browsed his supply of colors. He matched each color with the Polaroid, and settled on a chocolate brown. “I think we found Jordan’s color, guys!” He snapped on some latex gloves and got to work. The color and developer were placed in a bowl, and he mixed the ingredients together.

“You want to make sure you get every last strand of hair dyed,” Nathan stated nonchalantly. He picked up a hairbrush and applied the dye to the lock of hair. “Now, we wait ten minutes. We can pass the time with suggestions for what to do to Alex next. I have to say, he didn’t seem to know what the cattle prod was, I’m curious to get him acquainted with it.”

Suggestions rolled in. Whip him again. Burn him. Stress positions. Every single one excited Nathan. Donations rolled in, too. How clever of you to fake Jordan’s death. You’re experienced at this. He’ll never try to attack you again. Nathan’s heart fluttered at the dollar signs.

“Now we run it in water,” he said. “This is making it straighter. We’re gonna need to curl it more than I thought.”

After the hair dried, he ran his fingers over two curling irons. One was normally-sized, one was for shorter hair. He picked up the smaller one and began curling the synthetic hair. He glanced between the lock of hair and the Polaroid, making sure he got it just right. “That’s looking like Jordan, everyone! Good choice, chat!”

“Okay, guys, I’m going to take you downstairs now. I’m sure you all want to see Alex’s reaction.”

—

Alex had passed out in the bathtub and woken up chained to the corner again. His cuffs were tighter this time, all but cutting off his circulation. There was a moment when he woke up where he didn’t remember everything that had happened, but it all came flooding back eventually.

It was his fault.

That was one of the last things he had heard before he passed out. It’s my fault they’re dead. 

He wondered if Nathan had killed both Jordan and his mother, or just one of them. Alex thought about which one he’d rather kill. He never thought his mind would reach such a dark place, yet here he was, sitting in the pitch-black dark, wondering which of his loved ones he hoped would die.

Jordan was his boyfriend. His mother was his mother. He loved them both in different ways. He’d do anything to make sure they stayed alive. Apparently, he was also capable of murdering them in one swift movement.

Nathan hadn’t told him that anyone was dead yet. As long as Alex didn’t get the news, he could pretend it hadn't happened. He could picture them happy, perfectly fine without him, smiling and laughing and crying and begging for their life and–

Alex tried to stop thinking.

The door at the top of the stairs creeped open. Nathan was carrying his recording equipment back downstairs, which couldn’t be good. Did he record their deaths?

Alex shrank back into the corner, wishing he wouldn’t have to hear the words bound to come out of Nathan’s mouth.

Before he knew it, Nathan was crouched down in front of him, holding something behind his back. “Remember your punishment, Alex?”

“No, nonono, please, don’t–”

“It’s a little too late for that.” Nathan showed his hands to reveal a ziplock bag with… hair inside it? He handed it to Alex. “I told you I’d bring you a piece of them.”

It was dark brown with fluffy curls. It looked a lot like– Jordan.

The realization came crashing down on Alex. He was able to deny it before, but now he was holding the proof of his boyfriend’s death. A death that he caused. He swore his heart stopped beating. Tears were streaming down his face, his eyes wide. He couldn’t breathe. Jordan’s dead. Jordan’s gone. It’s my fault.

“Jordan, no,” he cried, his voice barely above a whisper. “Jordan, I’m sorry, it’s my fault, it’s my fault–”

“That’s right, Alex.” Nathan smiled. “Jordan Fielding is dead.”

“No–”

“Because of you.”

“NO–”

“Yes.”

Alex sank back against the wall and kissed the plastic bag. “I love you, Jordan.”

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