may_is_trash



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    It raised a gloved hand toward your face, and you froze in pure animal terror. You were going to die. Considering your place of employment, it wasn’t a surprise it would end this way.

    The hand hovered inches from your face. The SCP had paused, its fingers almost touching your cheek, and then it changed course. It brushed the loose strands of hair from your face.

    It touched you. The smooth leather of its glove grazed your temple, putting the hairs back in place behind your ear. It was a light touch, barely there, but more than enough to kill you.

    And yet, you still breathed.

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    15 May 2022