#so it elevated my vague memory of simply liking the development of their relationship upon first listen. it became more tender next time

[veganhamsalad]

Amnesty please I have a sad backstory

[ayestein]

“Bart, you’re already in the midst of danger, I wouldn’t suggest pursuing the topic any further.”

Bart put up a lighthearted smile and ran to the nearest table patiently awaiting Chris to go get him some beans. Bart might’ve hated the beans, but he was a glutton, so any form of substance that went down his stomach would ultimately satisfy him. That should’ve been obvious considering his body stature, for being in a place that typically required physical activity Bart was surprisingly chubby.

“Are you ever gonna try to lose weight around here?” Chris said as he set the can of beans next to Bart and sat adjacent to him.

“I don’t wanna look like a twig like you, so probably not. Besides, what’s the bother? We’re both on death row anyway! Might as well have as much food as we can before we face the guillotine ya know.”

“I’m pretty sure they don’t use guillotines for executions anymore… How many days do you got left?”

“Hell if I’ll ever know, we don’t really have calendars around here. Barely can keep track of time around here.”

“That’s because you still are only able to read a digital clock Bart, that’s not the facility’s fault.”

“SHUT UP! They should be considerate for the disabled.”

“They are, it’s just that you aren’t disabled for not being able to read a clock, you’re uneducated.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly as you thi-”

An alarm rang out across the cafeteria cutting Chris off. He looked towards WIlson, who seemed to be in a considerable state of distress. Looking back at Chris he swiftly ran over and grabbed his hand yelling at his fellow inmates.

“Follow procedure, this is not a drill! Bart, Chris, you’re with him.”

“What about the others?”

“They’ll be dealt with by the other guards, later…” Chris at the time couldn’t tell, but there was a somber tone in his voice when Wilson said that.

The crew quickly ran towards the closest exit. Running across the dull gray hallway, Wilson spotted an elevator to their nearest left. Pushing the button furiously, he looked around in fear. Even Chris wasn’t oblivious to that familiar look in his eyes, the eyes of someone who was desperate. Another announcement rang throughout the building following the alarm.

“SCPs 049, 939, and 682 have breached containment. All staff please meet up at-”

The audio not so conveniently cut off. Wilson kept muttering to himself, something around the lines of “How did the test fail?” Nearby Bart was rather dazed in midst of the turn of events, he seemed oddly detached from reality. As if he were coping with the reality itself trying to decipher the difference between his own imagination and what was real. Chris seemed oddly complacent and as the elevator twitched open upon its arrival he heard gunshots, several. All of them had come from the cafeteria, screams, eerily familiar to the voices of his fellow inmates. Yet, Wilson still urged them inside the elevator. The machine whirred as it was directed to go down by the mechanical push of a button. And a feeling of abandonment, that seem feeling of shame flooded Chris’s eyes, and as such seemingly fake tears poured down. Oddly enough, bart too, was sobbing.

“Get a hold of yourself Chris, this ain’t the time for crying? Geesh I thought you guys were supposed to be horrible people, but apparently not! WHY ARE THE BOTH OF YOU CRYING?!? We gotta get out, just stay calm, clam and-”

The elevator opened to the sight of a large red beastlike creature, Wilson remained silent. However, Bart continued to sob despite the disaster occurring in front of them. The monster grew attached to the peculiar sound it seemed rather familiar to. It’s throat churned as vocals came out through an unknown origin. From whom, from when, did it imitate such a person, Chris was unsure. How did it know? How did it know exactly what to say to the poor, pitiful Bart who was huddled in the corner?

“Is that you? My old friend?” Bart looked up seemingly confused, but oddly relieved by the tone of this horrific monster. That was his first mistake, turning around, the creature engulfed the entirety of Bart’s head, blood gushed as a massive “SNAP” was heard. His skull had been crushed and in realization of this, Chris felt the urge to scream rise from his throat, the terror unbeknownst to him and also a familiar sorrow, it’s as if this had happened to him before.

“I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna, I can’t, I cannot, not now, no, no, no…” Oddly enough, it wasn’t Chris who spoke those words, but the usually reserved guard next to him, Wilson was incredibly afraid. The monster too heard his words, and saw the movement of his lips, it had found the source of another prey. It growled as if delighted and partook in the course so gracefully given to it. It caught Wilson by the arm and in instinct Wilson pulled back. That too, was obviously a mistake. The feeble arm came off like a tissue, blood splattered in Chris’s face, and yet he was frozen, unable to move. This wasn’t right, it couldn’t be, this wasn’t reality. This was a mistake, it had to be that was the only thing Chris could decipher from the grim situation. That folly of misunderstanding the cruelty of nature led Chris to watch as Wilson pleaded for his help as he was slowly torn apart by a predator happily playing with it’s prey.

Blood, that red liquid, or whatever you’d prefer to call it. It was everywhere, on Chris’s eyes, his face, his shirt, his shoes, the walls, the buttons. Only red perpetrated his vision and the sight was vaguely familiar. And the sight of a blue haired girl laying on the girl dead, came to Subaru’s brain. The sight of burnt corpses in a small field. The sight of a cute silver haired girl with blood soaking her clothes. Unable to process it all, he finally let out a wretched unfaltering screech that surmised his doom as the creature before him took a bite into a most delectable piece of human trash. Chris himself couldn’t believe his last words when they escaped his throat, but the last thing that could be heard from inside the monster’s mouth was a simple call for somebody’s name, an unknown person. That name being “Emilia.”

Falling off his own bed, Chris quickly stood up looking around at his surroundings. Oddly enough, he didn’t know why he expected to see himself in the creature’s stomach, for he’d obviously be dead by the time he got that far. Still, why was he alive? And why, why was he in his cell? Almost on que the cells opened only for Chris to see moments later Bart, who hadn’t had too much trouble getting to Chris’s cell. Nobody was excited for bean day, except Bart. He was always excited to eat anything.

“Hey dude, I don’t wanna be rude, but you kinda look like a pile of dog shit. Also, did you fall off your bed?”

“Wha-” Chris couldn’t process it, disregarding his newfound memories, disregarding everything that had happened. Here Bart stood, happy, cheerful, and giddy. He wasn’t crying, he wasn’t dead, his head wasn’t disformed anymore. Even so, it didn’t make sense! There’s no way it could! How could, how could, things be so perfectly normal after such an event. And the sudden realization finally hit Chris, by some grace he was given a second chance. But why him? Why now? Is this why the Foundation valued him so highly? He couldn’t understand, in fact, he didn’t want to understand.

“Hey, man, get up already. You’re kinda creeping me out with that blank look on your face, ya know? This isn’t like you…”

“What’s wrong with you two! I’ve been waiting for you guys, what’s going on in here?”

“Oh crap! Blueberry’s here you gotta pull yourself together man!”

“Cut the crap, Bart! What’s wrong with him..?”

Chris had filtered out their voices, for they hadn’t mattered, not yet, not now, not ever. Chris screamed internally for this to be a dream. Chris had come to realize that humans are often selfish. He too was selfish, for he was human. That was just a simple fact of reality. The reason why people liked him is only because he was of a certain use to them. That’s all he had going for him, if he acted right, if he stayed within the boundaries of society he’d be fine. The D-Class who asked him for extra food, the guards that only protected him because they were ordered to. He enjoyed that fake relationship. His friendship with Bart, too, that was just a ploy. He knew deep in his heart that Bart didn’t realistically care, Bart just wanted his food, and maybe Bart was also lonely. By accommodating this sense of comradery they were able to develop a “relationship.” Whatever you wanted to call it, it was fake, it wasn’t real. It was just a method to gain mutual benefit, that’s how human nature works, so he was confused by these memories. These memories that flooded his head, why did he feel a certain fondness for these unknown people. What benefit did he gain from knowing them, what benefit did they gain from knowing him? He didn’t know, so much information and yet reality tasked him to simply deal with it. Such a simple word but a rather rash concept. At first glance, somebody could state that they could do the impossible, but that was from an outside perspective, that was naive, and Chris was naive. Naivety is broad. His inaction could devalue him as naive, his standing here not competent enough to make a sound, that too could be naive? Like a child unable to make a decision when facing others, not having the guts. That too could be considered naive. So, is him trying to preserve his own life and forsake others, is that naive? Yet, there’s an obligation in his stomach to stop the catastrophe from occurring, to save Bart, to save Wilson. Because the benefit he gained from keeping them alive made him truly happy. To give value to that, to proclaim it as a benefit, that was the existence of Chris. Did that make him human? He was unsure, but he in his deepest desire wanted to be the hero. Do something other than sit in this cell waiting to be asked for the help that nobody wanted him for.

“I’m alright, I’m alright, I just got a bit of a headache.”

“Do I need to contact the medical unit?”

“There’s no need Blueberry, I’m good.”

“Don’t spook us like that Chris! Maybe you need some food to help ease your nerves or something.”

“I told you I’m fine Bart.”

Oddly enough, Wilson was easily convinced, but Bart wasn’t. It took Chris to promise him more extra meals than usual to actually get him to shut up. Chris could finally take into consideration what would be the best action from here on out. It’s obvious that the elevator was a no go, but how would he convince Wilson that was not the right way. If he told Wilson the truth… What would happen to him afterwards? Could he trust Wilson? Even still, it was either that or dying to that creature again, that disgusting amalgamation of a hellhound. It was soon, the alarm would set off, Chris anticipated its arrival only for nothing to happen. Chris found himself at odds with himself, was his ability to tell time absolutely demolished? What was wrong? Chris looked around, of course, everybody was acting normal. And a sudden thought entered his mind, that everything he had just experienced was a nightmare. Now that he thought of it, that too made sense. It was far less bizarre than what he assumed to be the case. Right, right, this was only natural routine, there was nothing wrong going on. How stupid was he? For thinking that something to be wrong. He took his spoon and tried to take another scoop of the beans only to find red splattered across the table.

Well wasn’t this odd, somebody must have spilt tomato juice on the table. Is what Chris assumed, but he wasn’t aware. That the creature he had insulted before was now in the cafeteria with everyone, yet nobody seemed to care. Not Chris who was absent minded of the decapitated corpse of Bart right in front of him, he didn’t question it. Thus, the chatter commenced and slowed as time passed, a crackle of a skull being popped only meant that one voice in the chorus of chatter disappeared. They didn’t question it, many complained about the beans, not because the red liquid that was spilled onto their beans had spoiled it, but because it tasted kinda odd. Upon further reflection, people started to cumulatively agree that this different taste was different enough to make them like it, in some odd way. And so, the beast feasted and feasted upon the absent minded fools. The selfish human trash that plagued the cafeteria was quickly fading away.

“Oh! Hey, Wilson what’s wrong? Why did you fall like that? Hey dude are you crying?” Chris voiced his concern as the deformed head of Wilson fell onto Chris’s shoulder, Chris tried to comfort the corpse before him by caressing it’s head. He patted it’s back and continued to do this until the creature appeared directly in his view. Yet, in Chris’s eyes there was no such monster, he only saw a dog. “Woah Wilson! Did the facility get a new dog, that’s so cool! Can I pet it? Can I pet it?”

Chris immediately went to pet the creature, yet he was taken aback by the lack of fingers he possessed. He swear he didn’t have such a serious birth defect, he would’ve realized it earlier in his life, but why now? Nonetheless, Chris tried the other hand and the same results came to fruition, his fingers were gone, now that was odd, very peculiar indeed. He figured the universe didn’t want him to pet the dog. Which was kinda cruel and very rude especially considering it was directed just for specific instance, he had been condemned to death row and this is the treatment God gave him. Honestly, the audacity he had to even attempt such a thing. That, of all things, it was absurd. Chris fell to the ground, maybe he had tripped? But his right leg was missing? That was fine, everything is fine, he just needs to get up. Throttles of pain entered his mental vision as his other leg was chopped off by the apparent cute dog behind him. But still this felt normal to Chris, his end, the dizziness he experienced as the red liquid poured out from underneath him and soaking into his clothes. This is to all be expected, especially under the circumstances, he must’ve deserved it. This dreadful feeling, this too should be expected, expected for a human trash like him. And so was expected the sound of flesh being gnashed apart and making its way to the skull that gave way to the juicy insides. In one fell swoop it was only natural that he died-

Shaking; Chris’s entire bed was shaking, but not due to an earthquake. But Chris in realization of his return remembered the past events and how they weren’t normal. There was nothing normal about them! Just thinking about it made him want to vomit. He was huddled in the corner paralyzed. How was he supposed to fix this? If he thought these creatures as normal, if he didn’t even question the death of his own friends, how could he possibly intervene with the events that are soon to pass. Why did he even feel such indifference to everything that past run? That’s not what happened last time and it didn’t make sense! Why, why, why, WHY?!? There was only one solution left he had to tell Wilson, no matter how afraid he was of the consequences he needed to tell somebody! He was sick and tired of trying and only after two tries too, huh? Could he really give up that easily?

“You’re the sort of person that cannot give up on others… I believe in you… You’re a hero...” Words resounded from the deepest depths of Chris’s brain.

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! Where are these memories coming from, anyways? What do they mean, I can’t think straight anymore! I’ll just tell them, ya I’ll tell them… everything.”

“Tell us what, Chris? Why do you look so distraught..?”

“B-Bart… thank goodness, get Wilson now! We have to get out of here now, the S-”

Time stopped and a faint whisper adorned Chris’s figure, it felt cold, a fear that surpassed any other fear. That even surpassed his fear of death, the pain that resided it was nothing compared to this sense of dread. Chris eyes could spot a dark entity from afar, it formed into the shape of a hand and it caressed his chest. Seemingly going through it and strangling his lungs. Time resumed only for Chris to have fallen on the floor gasping for air. In fear, he looked up at Bart, who then looked to Wilson. Wilson quickly pulled out his radio after watching the event transpire.

“Medical unit? This is Wilson, please send a doctor immediately, subject 4116 is experiencing medical issues. Yes, yes… thank you.”

“What’s going on, hey Chris are you okay?”

“You’re coming with me Chris…” Wilson attempted to reach out his hand towards Chris only for him to swipe it away viciously.

“NO! No, no, no you don’t understand! I can’t leave! NOT NOW! NOT WHEN THAT THI-” Chris gasped for air as the pain resumed in his lungs.

“Chris, you have to go, I don’t think you understand your circumstance right now.” Wilson unsheathed his pistol and pointed it at Chris. “You’re coming, whether you like it or not.”

“No, no, not now… how could I make such a stupid mistake..?”

“Hey come on guys, calm down. Things don’t have to be like this. Look I’ll-”

“Don’t get in my way Bart. You may have the misconception of your safety right now. But this includes Chris, I have been given authority to dispatch any disobedience, even if that means via force. I’m allowed to terminate either of you if you do not comply here and now. So back off Bart, we both know it won’t end well, if you don’t.”

Bart gulped and complied there was a sad look in his eye as he watched Wilson drag Chris away. Chris was devastated, he honestly thought things were over. He was considering the possibility of just disobeying, so that he could intentionally get shot. But he was too afraid, too afraid of the pain. He hadn’t grown accustomed to it, could he honestly ever grow accustomed to that feeling. Chris felt trapped. So trapped that he even thought that it was better to wait it out. Afterall, they’re going away from the main source of the incident, aren’t they. But that theory was based only on limited information and it was hard for Chris to gather more when his standing in ranking amongst the facility was borderline D-Class. The only right he had was extra food; even his escort could betray him at will, even his escort was a higher rank than him.

“Mr. Wilson? What’s the matter? Why’d you call me at a time like this? Don’t you know I have a test to get to?”

“That termination test? Look, I get that has precedence, but your most valued subject has shown signs of… mental deterioration.”

“Deterioration? He’s only been here for a week? That’s simply impossible. Chris, look at me.” Chris complied not knowing what else he was supposed to do, but listen.

“Are you sure it isn’t just a lack of sleep?”

“He was- trying to tell me something, but despite his efforts, it seemed he was never able to finish his sentence? Isn’t that fishy to you?”

“I’ll take a look at it later, have him wait in my office for the time being. I’ll check up on him once this test is over.”

“Thank you, Dr. Mariah…”

Chris was escorted into Dr. Mariah’s office for where he sat there for a very large extended period of time. He didn’t think anybody was coming back, he felt like he was in his lonesome cell all over again. Thus, he had time to contemplate, to think about what his next action would be. And honestly, his mind went blank, what was he supposed to do? What did it matter if he could reverse time?!? If it only ended up leading to the same dead impasse. He hated it, he hated it as much as he hated the pain, as much as he hated the facility, and yet the only thing that he had ever truly known was the facility. He had often wondered why that was; he swear he could remember a life back at his old home. In a farm right outside Seattle. Now that, that was life and he made one tiny misstep. He just had to steal from some big hot shot and now here he was. He was an idiot through and through. Despite all this he continued to act as if nothing was wrong in the facility as if those dreams he were having weren’t some type of premonition. He still couldn’t figure it out, he truly was… A worthless excuse.

The containment breach alarm was once again set off. He looked towards the door expecting Mr. Wilson to pop in and escort him out, but he never came. Chris grew worried, so he thought he should check on him, only to hear a certain specific voice.

“Is there somebody in there, don’t be afraid.”

“W-What?”

Chris stammered only for the entity to open the door, and the voice revealed itself to be a man wearing what looked akin to a plague doctor outfit. Chris heard the D-Class talk about something similar to this, but he was pretty sure they were talking about a cartoon because the beak of the mask was way longer than what was presented in front of him.

“What an interesting way to cure the Pestilence! However, from the looks of it, it too sems to have flaws. Ahh, but we are men of science, so I believe that cannot be helped.”

“The Pestilence?”

“Have all of you never heard of it? Are you not aware of what plagues the world today? That is especially saddening.”

“Who are you?”

“Neither of our names matter right now. What matters is finding the cure. So, please do tell me how did you come across such a cure?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re referring to, unless you mean-” A dark fog took place in the room and the familiar sight of the hand made itself apparent. It trickled down from Chris’s cheek after caressing it, only for it to undoubtedly squeeze his heart. Chris gasped in pain at this, surprising the figure before him, however only slightly.

“You’re a peculiar specimen aren’t you? It appears my previous diagnosis was wrong, you are suffering. Suffering a great deal, don’t worry, I am the cure.”

The entity stepped forward laying his hand on Chris’s shoulder only for him to fall face flat on the ground, dead. It was instant, there was no mental process to generate the figure of pain or even fear. It was swift and cleaner than most. But even then, Chris felt the absent minded procedure. Needles prodding through his body, flesh being torn apart. It all felt numb and he wondered why, wondered why he was still here. As if he were bound to the world by some force, unknown to him. His body jerked frivolously as the supposed “cure” worked on him. And finally Chris woke up, but he wasn’t in control. He found himself roaming the halls, his thoughts were scattered. The legs wouldn’t move like they were supposed to, his arms wouldn’t move like they were supposed to, and his voice was coarse. He could hear himself moan as if he were in an eternal state of torment. For once, he was glad. He was glad that he couldn’t feel whatever this thing he had turned into was. For it must’ve been pure agony. He found himself walking towards the direction of his fellow inmates.

He expected for them to be dead, but there were still conjoining in the cafeteria as if nothing was wrong, even with the alarm going off constantly they remained still. The guards seemed unresponsive even to him and a surge of anger rushed through his body, an unknown benign force had already taken hold. And one by one he began attacking them, ripping apart their smiling faces, their joyous expressions. Eaten, chewed, gnashed apart because of this obscure desire. What was going on? As blood sprayed across the room and necks were being decapitated everyone remain still, still as a statue. They were clowns, idiots, idiots for thinking that everything was okay, for it wasn’t okay! NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS OKAY! He didn’t want to taste the feeling of flesh go into his mouth, but he had to. He didn’t want to see the organ inside of somebody else spill out and then munched up as if it were an everyday breakfast. It made him want to internally vomit, and yet he still continued. Not due to his own wishes, but because of a misfortunate event and honestly, he wanted to die. He wanted to die. Wants to die, should’ve died, better die, it’d be better if he’d just disappear. All these feelings go away! He doesn’t want to see this, nor experience it, so anything attributed to it, as well, should disappear. Until he heard from afar one fateful word, “Emilia.”

His rotten corpse was torn to shreds, the same creature that had torn apart Wilson and had eaten him was the one to end his misery, but was also the one to remind him of a certain person, and the only thing Chris could think from there on out was

“Who’s Emilia?”

____________________________________________________________________________

Item: SCP 1504

Test results: During the test, all staff members were advised to observe via thermal readings. When SCP 096’s face was viewed by SCP 1504 it did trigger a reaction. SCP 096, as expected, entered a distressed state, however when enraged he did not engage SCP 1504, he attacked the nearby staff. Resulting in a containment breach. Nearby staff became negligent due to the effects of SCP 1504 and this resulted in several other containment breaches. Which inevitably led to the nuking of the site. All SCPS were successfully recovered. Casualty count came out to [REDACTED]

Addendum: Any information regarding D-Class 4116 is to be considered classified till further notice.

____________________________________________________________________________

Tired, that was the only thing that could describe Chris, no matter what he did, stuff seemed to end badly. Of course, he messed up a few times along the way, so some progress was possible, but no matter how his brain could rack around it, the possibility of ending this cycle was nigh impossible. It became clear to Chris that he wasn’t a hero, not by any means, if he was going to end this cycle. He either had to escape or live with the fear of experiencing the same day and same death over and over. How could he manage to change things?

“Chris! Step out of your cell for a moment.” Chris was familiar with the voice, it was Wilson again.

“What is it? Why are we leaving this early anyways? Lunch hasn’t even begun.”

“Something important came up regarding the status of your containment…”

“My containment, what in the hell are you talking about?”

“It seems you’re being transferred to another Site. Previously, this news was meant for you, but due to an undetermined risk which we are still unaware of how to proceed with. Due to your own safety you’ll be transferred.”

“Wh-what about Bart?”

“Bart..? I am unfamiliar with the person you’re referring to. But if the question is aligned with if you can bring any friends, no. Now then…” Wilson unsheathed his gun and pointed it at Chris, Chris flinched as Wilson pulled the trigger, no hesitation in his actions. “ The gun shot out a tranquilizer dart, hitting Chris and knocking him out almost immediately.

“Subaru! Subaru!”

“Huh, what happened?” Subaru woke up in a daze from his bed, concerned expressions swept his vision. Subaru looked towards Emilia who immediately hugged him. This sensation, this feeling of belonging, this sanctity. It was a fond feeling, so this is why he ate that mayo. Was it all really just a simple dream?

“You were out for 3 months, I suppose.” Beatrice commented scoffing, seemingly indifferent to Subaru’s well being. Subaru smirked and scratched his head in minor shame. He had no idea what had come over him, but if it truly was a dream, why could he vividly remember almost all of it? The pain he felt, the sadness, the despair, it all felt too real. Subaru after apologizing to everybody eventually made his way to the mirror.

“Heh, I look like absolute crap. I can’t believe I let Emilia see me like this…” Subaru’s eyes were dull, having lost their usually bright color and his skin was rather pale. He wondered how he even made it through those 3 months, someone must’ve been taking care of him during the coma. He suspected it was the combined efforts of Rem and Emilia, but still, to be able to forget those both so easily. He was afraid that something like that could happen here, but he did his best to convince himself otherwise.

“Subaru? Are you okay?”

“Oh! Emilia-chan~ Surely, you were the cure to me waking up from my coma, perhaps, Emilia don’t tell me!” Subaru’s thoughts ran to the sleeping beauty and he couldn’t help but gush as his mind wandered with the possibilities.

“Wh-What?”

“No, no, no it couldn’t possibly be!” Subaru stated rather dramatically making Emilia somewhat confused, but also amused. He could hear her silently giggling and that in itself brought a smile to his face.

“So, I’m reeeeeaaaally curious. What were you dreaming about it? Sometimes, I saw you moving in your sleep, like you were having a nightmare…”

“It wasn’t much really. Emilia have you ever heard of the SC-” The penalty happened again and Subaru stopped mid sentence, fear patching his usually joyous expression. It

wasn’t a dream, what had happened… was it really real..?

________________________________________________

SCP 096: Don't look at his face or else you're dead. Doesn't matter if it is via picture or video feed, if you see his face he'll seek you out and kill you.

SCP 939: Beast like predator who repeats the words of its victims.

SCP 049: Plague Doctor whose touch is deadly and can turn you into a zombie via surgery.

SCP 1504: Him or anything around him is seen as normal, or within expectation. As shown here, not even death of close friends is questioned. Everything is simply normal.