Chapter Text
Item #: SCP-105-V
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-105-V is contained in a regular humanoid containment unit with an addition of a glass wall separating an extra viewing chamber, closed by a reinforced iron door with a mechanical lock where at least one armed security personnel must remain at to watch over SCP-105-V at all times. Security stationed are not allowed to approach SCP-105-V or enter its containment unit proper. The door to access both the viewing area and the SCP-105-V containment unit also has a mechanical lock and requires another key, both which will be held by an armed security stationed outside SCP-105-V’s containment unit. Security overlooking SCP-105-V are not allowed to engage in conversation or any other type of communication with SCP-105-V, and are at risk of replacement in case communication is established. Security overseeing SCP-105-V are not to bring any kind of electronics including cell phones and radio devices.
Additional containment notes:
Following concessions, SCP-105-V is allowed furniture including: a round carpet of 2m x 2m of local moroccan patterns picked by SCP-105-V, a handmade quilt, a wooden chessboard with the proper pieces as well as two wooden chairs, a bookshelf with a collection of poems by various authors (a list was provided by SCP-105-V and vetoed by the foundation accordingly),
an electric kettle and a collection of
█████ ███
brand tea, and an audio-player with music picked by SCP-105-V
. Following Incident 105V-2, no electronics of any kind are allowed in SCP-105-V’s containment unit, SCP-105-V is provided instead with a violin and will be provided tea prepared by personnel alongside meals if requested.
Description: SCP-105-V is a male in its late thirties of 1.76 m of height, sporting a lean frame and brown complexion of possible Moroccan origin. SCP-105-V usually wears a black full bodysuit accented in gold and blue composed of carbon fiber, dyneema fiber and other percentages of technofabric and plating as well as several copper wires (cut by foundation staff and rendered useless) tracing alongside its limbs and over its chest and neck. It also always wears a matching black mask that envelops its head made of the same material, with a gold-copper alloy frame around the eye sockets and glowing cyan lenses in the place of eyes. The eyes of the mask possess shutters and allow SCP-105-V to convey some expressions as well as ”blink”.
Although SCP-105-V presents regular human anatomy, it will refuse to remove its mask or bodysuit, only being coerced into removing its gloves at most, and prefers to keep its identity hidden. Through sedation staff personnel were able to remove the bodysuit during testing but were unable to remove the mask without possibly injuring SCP-105-V. When questioned about it, SCP-105-V assured there are no anomalous effects related to its mask affixation and it is a regular accessory. In accordance to its claim, SCP-105-V has been seen pulling the lower half of the mask up to consume meals. Staff cannot determine how the mask is powered on nor how it remains affixed when attempts to remove it are made by others.
SCP-105-V will often wear a cream coat and a matching hat with a triangular brim as well as dark pants with faded green chaps and knee high steel toed boots over its undersuit, claiming sentimental value over the garments. It however will also dress in other clothing provided by staff, always over the bodysuit and mask.
SCP-105-V has a high intelligence score, though not unusual for a human, and is often amicable, having a penchant for gallows humor and provoking staff for its own entertainment. It appears to know several languages including Standard Arabic and the Darija dialect, English, French and Spanish. SCP-105-V has a strong sense of justice though not always compliant with an average person’s sense of morality. Although it usually possesses a nice demeanor and is mostly cooperative with staff, SCP-105-V is very secretive about its own identity and goals and will often lie or obfuscate information from staff to get what it wants, displaying a selective degree of apathy towards its targets. It will go lengths to try to acquire information about those around it and use it in threats (the seriousness of SCP-105-V’s threats are hard to judge and thus should always be taken seriously by stationed security).
SCP-105-V’s anomalous properties manifest in two manners related to technology. SCP-105-V has the ability to access the live feed of any camera or otherwise film recording device as long as it is turned on through connection to a power source or battery and within SCP-105-V’s field of view. From this new point of view, it can access other cameras and thus further increase its reach up to an unknown distance for an unknown time length.
SCP-105-V’s secondary anomalous property
is activated whenever it comes in physical contact to a computer or hardware that contains software
. As of incident 105V-1, it appears SCP-105-V can connect to electronics it has not touched, suggesting that only direct line of sight is needed to access it. Once SCP-105-V accesses a computer or electronic, it can access all its files and databases regardless of passwords, firewalls or any other protections, taking control of all information it wants in a few minutes or seconds depending on the amount of files accessed. Once a machine is accessed, SCP-105-V would often implant a virus of no anomalous properties it programmed that would try to infect other machines through various means, that would then be affected by SCP-105-V’s anomalous properties.
Addendum.105V.1: Discovery
SCP-105-V was discovered after coming into contact with Dr. [REDACTED] on 08/24/ 2 ███ , whose phone was infected and hacked, although they were unaware of such. SCP-105-V proceeded to hack the phones of five more staff until facility personnel caught wind of the virus and started the purging process. Personnel disposed of the contaminated phones after failing to remove the virus or trace back to its source.
SCP-105-V proceeded to send an email to Dr. [REDACTED] claiming that “nothing stays hidden from [it]”. On 09/04/ 2 ███ , SCP-105-V invaded the property of technician [REDACTED] who was promptly murdered with a single shot to the head for what SCP-105-V would later claim was non-compliance. SCP-105-V would access [REDACTED]’s computer at 02:37am and log into SCP foundation database despite not having clearance to access it, which alerted the foundation who dispatched a task force for investigation.
SCP-105-V tried to flee the scene but was later captured after sustaining an injury to the leg from a bullet fired by personnel and was administered tranquilizers and detained by the facility.
Upon awakening, SCP-105-V managed to connect through the camera set for the interview, resulting in Incident 105V-1.
Addendum.105V.2: Information
SCP-105-V is fond of games of logic such as chess and other mentally engaging activities and seems to take a liking to gambling. SCP-105-V enjoys engineering and programming and will discuss such topics, however, in accordance with containment procedures, SCP-105-V is not allowed to produce, fix or otherwise tinker with any piece of technology as well as interact with any machinery or hardware without explicit foundation permission. SCP-105-V also seems to have a mischievous personality and will try to trick, fool or even steal from personnel if allowed to.
Given SCP-105-V’s wide scope of knowledge and penchant for manipulation, personnel are advised against offering any personal information willingly and should keep conversations on topic following a script. SCP-105-V has proven to be a very capable intelligence broker, confessing to having been working with such before containment and has offered to trade information in exchange for some concessions.
SCP-105-V has not been cleared to help collect information for the foundation as it cannot be trusted to tell the truth or handle foundation information in accordance with the foundation’s interest. However SCP-105-V was allowed to exchange previously known information as well as insight on foundation’s workings in exchange for concessions such as furniture for its room as well as permission to work on gadgets while accompanied by two armed security guards and two technicians for observation.
When questioned about the foundation, SCP-105-V confessed to being “unsettled” by its findings and claimed that foundation’s morals were “shaky” and at times “repulsive” but confessed that it wouldn’t know how to proceed if put in the foundation’s place as it lacks “the proper knowledge to handle the situation better”. SCP-105-V is not allowed access to information about foundation, foundation staff or other known anomalies. Given that information gathered by SCP-105-V of the foundation was minimal, no amnestics were administered as a sign of good faith by foundation ( Let’s make sure we keep it that way -Dr. Callas).
Addendum.105V.3: Interview on Identity
Due to the dangerous nature of SCP-105-V’s knowledge and possible risk of information breach, Site Director XX approved an interview by Dr. Callas in which SCP-105-V was administered ████████ also known as “truth serum” and inquired about foundation secrets as well as other information pertinent to the state or overall populous security. SCP-105-V demonstrated wide knowledge of government secrets of many nations as well as a high capacity to remember information accurately. Information given of the foundation revealed SCP-105-V knew more than revealed in previous interviews, but previously revealed information remained somewhat accurate.
SCP-105-V was also questioned on its identity. The excerpt of the interview is transcribed below.
Date: September 28, 2 ███
Interviewer: Dr. Callas, Site XX
Interviewee: SCP-105-V
—
[BEGIN LOG]
Dr. Callas: Could you state your name, age and place of birth?
SCP-105-V: Amir el Amari… Thirty eight… of the beautiful Rabat. (Responses are slow and the subject seems hesitant and confused. Such reactions are expected after administration of “truth serum”)
Dr. Callas: Could you tell me about your abilities? Their range, how they came to manifest.
SCP-105-V: I couldn’t really tell you when it all began. Growing up as I did, I barely had the opportunity to hold a phone. I learned from the streets, and I worked hard. I was collecting people’s information from their trash before I got it through their heads. As it turns out, my eyes can see much farther than my enemies.
Dr.Callas: Would you call your ability a virus?
SCP-105-V: (SCP-105-V huffs humorously) Not really. I’m just seeing from a new perspective, an insider one. If the information exists, I can see it. Simple as that.
Dr. Callas: What about Prometheus? (Note: Prometheus is a designation given to the virus SCP-105-V infects machines with).
SCP-105-V: Ah, that? I made it, so I suppose it is a virus. It is fun to create things. It is also fun to see people scramble to try to get rid of me, just scampering about lost (SCP-105-V chuckles). You’ve done it too, you lost, didn’t you?
Dr. Callas: Would you say you can absorb any information you gather through your abilities?
SCP-105-V: Are you a chef because you’ve read a cookbook? No. What I do with the information I gather is of my own merit and interest. I learn just like any other person, if I do it faster it only means I am better, yes?
Dr. Callas: Could you tell me about the incident regarding ███████ in a political scandal? Were you involved? How about the subsequent murders of █████ ████████, ███████ █████ and other 5 individuals?
SCP-105-V: (SCP-105-V leans away and hesitates to answer, taking a serious aspect) They’ve gotten what they deserve. After what they’ve done to my family… To Nora… (SCP-105-V mumbles something in Arabic, no translators were present at the moment).
Dr. Callas: Nora? Who is that?
SCP-105-V: My late wife. She’d done no wrong other than dream. And what for? A future away from our little one?
Dr. Callas: Your little one?
SCP-105-V: M-my daughter… You… You’re not allowed to approach her, I will kill you if you try. (SCP-105-V becomes visibly more tense, staying in silence for several seconds before continuing). You’re not-... Something is wrong. Did you do something to me? What have you done?
Dr. Callas: Please, let’s remain on topic.
SCP-105-V: You’ve done something to me. You’re trying to pull my secrets out by force. I’ll first cut my tongue than answer another question about them . (SCP-105-V takes an aggressive stance). How about I go digging up your dirty secrets, Doctor Callas? Please tell me, how’s the project with 003 going? I mean, twelve deaths under your belt in a single swoop is quite impressive. I wonder if that’s where the moniker “Viper” came from?
Dr. Callas: That’s enough. Let’s take a deep breath and resume this another time (Dr. Callas seems agitated and stops the interview according to protocol).
SCP-105-V: Careful what you play with, doctor . I am a dog that bites back.
[END LOG]
————————————————————————————————————————————————
Interviewer’s notes-a: SCP-105-V demonstrated spite and anger towards staff after effects of the truth serum were gone. I’ve decided against administering amnesics to the subject as it would seem its capacity to regain lost information could backfire on us. SCP-105-V seems to place some semblance of trust on the facility, enough to not cause it to retaliate against the facility and instead comply, so the best we can do is assure it our interests align.
Interviewer’s notes-b: There’s no record of an “Amir el Amari” being born in Rabat and marrying a “Nora”. Either information about SCP-105-V has been wiped from all systems or the subject is unaware of its own lie. Staff are still in search of this possible child.
—
Incident 105V-1:
Upon capture, SCP-105-V connected through cameras outside its interview quarters and glanced through around six other containment chambers including [DATA EXPUNGED]. It also managed to gain access to files pertaining to personnel handling its case. One such was Doctor Sabine Callas, her personal information and basic overview of her position within the facility as well as current and past projects including the incident revolving SCP-003-V were all breached. SCP-105-V did not show knowledge about any details other than superficial information contained in the local database as well as addendums recently added by the doctor without their full context.
Personnel involved in the information breach were removed from the case with the exception of Dr. Callas, who requested to handle the case personally. Permission was given by O5.
SCP-105-V did not show signs of understanding what it had glanced over the security cameras other than superficial information gathered from observation alone, as it would appear it did not have time or know how to access any terminal or computer containing their proper data.
Upon arrival, SCP-105-V remained cautious and untrusting, refusing to collaborate and using what information it gathered to threaten and attempt to blackmail foundation staff until it performed the data breach in the facility completely, when it turned quiet and pensive, reluctantly obliging to facility demands. It expressed some shock towards the facility’s methods and objective, and yet showed some interest in them regardless.
Incident 105V-2:
On the 10th of October 20 ██ , SCP-105-V had an accident with a teacup resulting in a gash (later revealed to have been purposefully inflicted). Security ██████ stationed for observation at the time, used the short wave radio provided by foundation to call in medical support but failed protocol by entering SCP-105-V’s containment unit for aid. SCP-105-V proceeded to use a gadget made of parts of the music player provided by foundation to shock and knock security unconscious before swiping the radio.
The first call for medical support never reached foundation, showing a likelihood that SCP-105-V had already affected the equipment. It is assumed SCP-105-V proceeded to eavesdrop the radio for around 45 minutes before outside security walked in and recollected all equipment and security.
When questioned about its intentions, SCP-105-V confessed to having only been “testing something” and that there should be no “hard feelings” over the situation. All electronics have been taken from SCP-105-V’s possession.
—--------------------
—--------------------
Amir sighs deeply, holding the collection of pages with some disappointment. “Is that it?” is the thought that comes to him as he flips back and forth through the last page of the file. His file. Given, he skimmed through parts of text seeing it is printed on paper and, although he’s a fast reader, he doesn’t absorb words as fast as when he takes them from a computer, and as it stands, time is of the essence. But through his quick read he finds the document lacking. Even putting aside the clear dehumanization of his person and clear breach of boundaries (he is well aware of how the foundation sees him), the document leaves him unsatisfied.
He doesn’t know what it is he wished to see there, just that it didn’t exist.
A bang sounds outside the door, something slamming against it and Amir pauses, head snapping up and body freezing in alert. He itches for a gun, or any weapon, but he has nothing.
Well… he has a lockpick. Crafted from a dismantled pen, the metal hinge of a chessboard and other collected knick knacks. It has served him well already, allowing him access to the viewing area of his… “containment unit”, but such a small tool would only get him through the next door, leading to the facility corridors before it lost its use.
But then, Amir could start using his tricks to get through any other pesky doors. That wasn’t an issue. The issues were the noise outside that attracted his security guard, who left him unattended long enough to allow his escape, and the commotion that is yet to die down.
There’s something going on outside. Something bad , given the nature of this facility. Avoiding it will take more than lockpicks and wit.
He wants a gun. Just in case.
He sets his files aside, moving to unlock the outer door of his living quarters. He takes out the lockpick and sticks to the lock, turning it carefully. Once the door clicks open, he pushes it gently first trying to listen in to what’s outside.
There’s no noise directly ahead of him, so he pushes the door open further. Ahead of him is a corridor, with another one crossing it in a T-section where he stands. He gets a glimpse of someone turning a corner several meters to his right.
He hears muffled gunfire.
It seems there might’ve been a containment breach, or something of the sorts. He shudders. It is true he doesn’t know much about the foundation, not as much as he’d like, but the little he saw did leave him feeling uneasy. It’s one thing to recognize you have abilities beyond the natural, it is another to come to terms that are more things defying the laws of nature, things that are truly dangerous and that are hardly understood.
And how nice it is to put them all in a building, in their tiny cells and hope they don’t get out.
Amir pushes his head out of the door, searching until his eyes land on a security camera stuck in one of the upper corners of the corridor. Perfect. He blinks and suddenly he’s looking at himself from the camera’s point of view, half hidden behind a door. He takes a step back to hide himself from view (it’s easy to be caught off guard when your eyes are somewhere else) and moves the camera, taking in the scenery.
Above his door he finds letters written in bold: “SCP-105-V”, and under it “Euclid”. Amir’s short venture granted him the knowledge of what such terminations meant at least, so it was nice to know they still took him for a threat in a way. Even after he started behaving.
He moves the camera away, connecting to another camera further away to his right, where the figure had turned a corner.
He catches a group of armored men mobilizing further down that direction. Amir clicks to the next camera and spots the first sprawled body, an arm torn off and blood painting the floor and walls almost artistically.
He doesn’t want to go that way.
He returns to the initial camera and decides to check out his left now. He only needs to go through two more cameras, seeing rows of doors with designations on top, to reach a heavy gate closing off any exit.
The lights blink, plunging his vision into darkness for three full seconds until they’re suddenly back on.
He goes back to the first camera again.
He follows the corridor ahead of him now.
This corridor has signs of scratches and bullets littered about, cracks and holes on walls that are quite impressive in size. The only open room he sees is a small one, possibly a storage, lined with metal shelves. No weapons inside that he can see.
And not too far from it, he spots one of the metal double doors lining the halls half open, bent at the center where they met, leaving a crack where a person could possibly squeeze through. Above the metal doors he reads “SCP-003-V”.
“Keter”.
He keeps moving down the corridor until he can see yet another door that was broken down, thrown on the floor and revealing a cafeteria beyond it. And beyond the cafeteria, he finds an elevator. That looked promising enough.
He returns to his body, feeling it prickle with restless energy as he readies to go out. He pushes the door and crosses the horizontal part of the T-section quickly, taking cover against the wall on the corridor ahead of him. He moves swiftly but doesn’t dare make too much noise, avoiding drawing attention to himself.
He tries to look as much as he can for any other cameras or devices he could access that were not in view before but he mostly finds locked doors with panels and rooms with SCP designations.
He keeps walking, his steps sounding too loud in the echoing corridors. It isn’t long before he is passing past the room with the shelves. He was right on his storage room guess, there’s a few bottles of cleaning supplies stored in it. He doesn’t spare it any more than a glance, attention drawn to the double metal doors a few meters away that were bent open.
He walks even more carefully, breath held as he peeks into the mysterious containment chamber from the other side of the corridor.
He sees a white wall first, brightly lit. As he keeps walking the back wall is also revealed: another blindingly white wall, though now he sees a deep gash over it. He realizes all the walls are scratched, even the third one that comes to view when he keeps walking.
He doesn’t see anything inside.
That isn’t really a good sign per say.
Amir doesn’t have the time to worry about it, he’s trying to get to a room where can speed up his long term objective.
He needs a computer.
The lights go out again and he freezes in place. He counts the seconds, one, two, three, four, and the lights flick several times tentatively before finally remaining on.
He uses the camera to check his surroundings, watching first the way he came from and thankfully finding it empty, and then checking the way ahead, the open doors of the cafeteria.
The elevator is no longer on this floor.
It seems it went down.
Amir swallows dryly, fingers itching to fiddle with something. He’d kill to have any of his equipment right now.
He continues to walk towards the cafeteria, flicking between the camera every few steps to check on the elevator.
It stops on some floor below, and after Amir walks further, it starts coming back up.
He pauses, watching the bright arrow pointing up announcing the elevator’s movement.
He starts hearing something from the camera. A static noise of some sorts. The camera feed flickers and he thinks for a moment that the lights blinked again but that wasn’t it.
As the elevator starts slowing down the camera feed glitches more and more, an uncomfortable humm sounding under the sound of static.
The elevator stops on his floor.
It dings as the doors open and the camera feed distorts completely.
There’s something bad coming.
Amir gets out of the camera and starts walking backwards.
Shit.
Shit!
He hurries, somehow feeling the approach of whatever came out of the elevator. He breaks into a half run, still trying to not make noise when the lights go out again and he’s plunged into total darkness.
There’s just one spot of bright light coming from the opening in the double metal doors that composed SCP-003-V’s containment chamber. It means the cleaning closet is not too far away. He rushes blindly through the dark and bumps into the wall, feeling around until he grabs the handle of the closet door.
He promptly lets himself in and closes the door behind him, pushing further into the small room and crouching between shelves, trying to hide.
His heart is racing in his chest and he tries to calm it down with a few deep breaths. He needs to listen.
He can hear his own breaths, coming out of parted lips in hot puffs. He closes his mouth, willing the air to come and go even slower. In. And out.
There’s a bright sliver under the door through which a blue light starts pouring through.
Amir remains completely still, feeling his breath halt altogether. He can tell the thing is slowly approaching, coming in the direction of the closet at a comfortable pace.
The lights flicker back on.
Turn it off! Something screams in his brain and he gets up on buckling knees, slapping a hand over the lightswitch and plunging the room back into darkness.
He doesn’t understand why he did it other than a horrifying urge but it is done. He leans against the wall and slowly slides back to the floor, eyes glued to the small slither under the door. He drops heavily on the cold tile, hand grasping a nearby shelf, with nothing to protect him, pushing himself back away from the door carefully.
He sees the blue light become brighter as it starts coming closer to the door. He doesn’t move anymore, back against a shelf that his hands tensely held onto.
He could look into one of the cameras, take a peek to know how safe it was, but some deep instinct holds him back from doing so, keeps him from moving as he stays there, half collapsed on the floor holding his breath.
The lights outside flicker out again, leaving only the blue spotlight to hunt for little rats.
It keeps moving across the room, making shadows dance gleefully as if in mockery of Amir’s predicament, their brightness feeling as if it could sting his body where it touched. He knows whatever is out there, it is right in front of that door. It buzzes in his head.
But the spotlight never stops moving in its slow pace, caressing the fugitive’s figure one last time before dimming into complete darkness again.
He breathes out.
And then in. A trembling lungful, that is held for just a second before it too escapes him. The danger is gone and the rat gets to live another day.
His muscles relax minutely and his hand unclenches the now warm metal shelf it held to. Amir is again ready to act as he always has but there’s something still nagging at his mind.
It is a hesitation, that grips at his limbs that prickle with apprehension and stop him from getting to his feet. It is a doubt at the back of his mind that maybe he’s wrong, that he doesn’t really know if he can go.
He knows it is fear.
The feeling sits uncomfortably on his chest, a weight compressing his lungs into shallower breaths. It is wrong because Amir doesn’t recognize it as his, he has always performed well under pressure.
Throwing himself into a closet room and ducking is an improvised act of self-preservation. Standing still with no will to make a move when he should, however, is not.
Did he ever check if the closet was really empty before he stepped in?
Like if poisoned, his limbs lock and goosebumps trail through his skin as he breaks into a cold sweat, but he cannot bring himself to look behind him. He’s certain now that there’s something else inside the closet. Something in the dark, waiting patiently and quietly until something walked into its lair.
It makes sense, right? Afterall, Amir’s breathing ceased and yet he still hears an exhale not too far from his nape.
He’s fought for his life many times before. Had to do things he never wished to, pushed himself to his limit, survived. He couldn’t have fear snatch him like so, talons tight against his skin until it broke through to mark his bones. Amir had always been too clever, always found a way.
Through a camera, through a bullet, through his tongue.
He forces his mouth open, a trembling breath sucked in before being expelled.
“Hey.” The word escapes him barely a sound.
It floats about, an invite for whatever watches him to strike, but nothing happens. The air is still stiff and the shadows move and coil around his vision but they listen.
It eases the weight in his chest enough for him to breathe again.
“I was captured too. SCP 105-V.” He says, because in a place like this, his hunter could be nothing but another designation. Safe, Euclid, Keter. Put in a box and left unattended until disturbed.
“I won’t harm you, I’m just hiding. I hope you could do the same for me.” He whispers. His head is yet to turn, he’s still admittedly too afraid to do so, vision stuck forwards, glancing at the door. His means of escape.
There’s no response, no real sign there’s something listening at all, but still he hopes whatever is there with him will listen.
The lights outside flicker on and he feels something shift in the air, a small lightness takes over his body for a moment, enough that his arms tremble as if released from a heavy pull and his eyes snap to the light switch just outside his arm’s reach.
A hand twitches up, trailing after the switch when goosebumps crawl up his back once more. Something holds onto the tail of his coat. A threat.
“You-“ he has to stop to gather his breath before continuing. “You want the lights off?”
Again there’s no discernible answer other than the imagined whisper of the air pushing through the tension around, and yet, Amir feels as if the prowler stills.
He knows somehow that the light would be his safety, but they’re both prisoners of this place, crammed into a closet while trying to survive. They could be kindred in the eyes of the foundation.
So Amir lowers his hand.
“Alright.”
The monster in the shadows eases his grip on him. No, rather the monster is the shadows. It is draped over Amir’s body, feeling every breath that leaves his lungs. It is hiding against his back and it is afraid of the light. Funnily enough, now that he thinks about it, not even the light in his lenses seem to brighten the space next to his face.
So Amir sits back, breathing slowly and deeply in a pacifying manner. His plans are cut short by occasion yet again, but he adapts, as usual. He wants to get moving, to go through the elevator past the cafeteria, but the door between him and the corridor feels like a thin barrier standing tall and immovable to protect him from something he can’t quite name. Some imminent danger he just can’t face. A logical part of him tells him that it is his best chance, but his guts remain tangled up in an uncomfortable manner. No matter what, the dregs of fear still cling at him, but then, Amir has lived in fear for so long it is too familiar to truly bother him. It seems it is not today that he’ll get what he needs, so he’ll remain patient, play the slow game.
It pains him, yes, a sorrow for the things he’s lost and the ones he’s yet to save. And to think that locked in a cage he has the best chances to help them… help… her.
The shadows shift around him, there is a weight again in his chest, making his breaths stutter in his throat. He hears them again. Voices. They are screaming for help but he can’t help them. They will plunge into oblivion and the following silence will be much louder than the echoing screams. He finally turns his head, eyes fleeting from one corner to another, searching for them. There’s nothing but the swirl of the dark to which his eyes can never adapt. There are flickers of bright blue, pulsating to the muffled noise.
He desperately wants to help them, but he can’t.
He pulls in a harsh, shuddering breath, arms trembling under his weight where clenched fists press on the floor. There’s nothing in the dark, they are dead. His vivid nightmare lacks the images that assault him in his dreams, but feels just as real. But he’s awake, he’s aware, he breathes and the overwhelming feeling of loss presses his chest.
“I-is… is this your doing?” His voice trembles. The voices become lower, slowly fading away. It is not an answer but he takes it as so.
“Did you lose something as well?” The pain comes back, suffocating him, an empty where his heart should be stealing the air from him. And then, it eases again and Amir is left reeling, shaken from the experience he’s had to endure before.
“I’m sorry.” He says, though he doesn’t quite understand what the shadow could’ve lost or how it could be hurt. He understands the pain itself at least, and perhaps it understands him as well. Perhaps the wave of misery was just an attempt to communicate it, as awful as it was.
Amir draws his arms back, coiling in on himself slightly, trying to ground himself. There’s no more comfort to be offered.
He sits and resets his mind back to nothing, to that simple apathy that gets him through the roughest days. It is hard of course, there’s still a lingering anxiety, a paranoia, fear . He knows they’re not his.
Amir catches the sound of something outside. Movement. Noise. The slither of light is disturbed as something stands by the door.
It suddenly swings open.
Light bursts into Amir’s face, blinding him as he twitches. He hears a hiss and something sticks to his back, clawing at his neck painfully and once again his body is overtaken by fear. He somehow still manages to put both his hands up.
It is a facility guard who opened the door, standing against the light and pointing a gun at him.
“Don’t shoot!” Amir pleads rather pathetically, very unbecoming of him, but rationally is a little off his mind’s reach as the shadows claw at his back.
The gun remains pointed at him, but the security reaches for a radio strapped to his shoulder.
“Sir, I have a man in a mask, possibly 105-V, awaiting instructions.”
Amir’s eyes focus on the radio. It is simple enough, with a little more effort he can hear the voice coming from it clearly in his head.
“State your location and condition of target.”
“At the supply closest nearby 003-V’s containment unit. Target seems unarmed and unharmed.”
Amir feels something twist behind him, coiling like a snake.
“Any signs of SCP-003-V’s location?”
“No sir.” The security replies.
“Keep eyes on target and await further instructions. Careful, he’s a clever one.”
“Roger that. Over.”
Amir feels that anxiety turn into anticipation. Muscles tense as if ready to lunge.
“Don’t.” He whispers to his shadow, hoping it will understand.
“Mouth shut, 105-V. You’re not pulling any tricks.” The security reprimands him, unaware of the danger he’s in. Amir feels the shadows settle down uneasily behind him.
“But my arms are starting to hurt from being up like this, see?” He bobs his arms up and down slightly. It is not amusing to his watch guard.
“Keep them up or I’m knocking you out.”
Amir drops the fake smile, he won’t talk anymore so the childish tone isn’t needed. He focuses on the radio instead. He wants to listen in more, to fiddle with the thing until he knows enough about the situation, but he can’t do it without alerting the guard. He needs to play nice now, he needs their trust, as frustrating as it is. He wonders if the shadow glued to his back pouring godawful thoughts in his head is the elusive SCP 003-V. Its cage wasn’t too far away, it was plausible.
He doesn’t know much about SCP 003-V, he’s seen the “Keter” designation by the doors of its brightly lit containment chamber. Was it how it was kept at bay? Under a constant stream of light? He’s seen it mentioned, first in a small note in emails traded with the first foundation staff Amir killed as he wandered purposefully into his house. A string of words reading “003-V is giving some trouble with testing again. Data is too unreliable, how are we supposed to get answers? Why not give Callas’ monster back to her?”.
The reply had been intriguing.
“Perceived emotional connections are barriers to our research.”
Amir didn’t know how literally the word “monster” was being used back then, he had been chasing after something unbelievable, but being brought to the foundation ended up surprising still.
In his first interview, he tried bluffing with this so-called monster against Dr. Sabine Callas. After all, as he spoke to her in threats he peeked into information that was very damning. Dr. Callas had been involved in an incident with SCP-003-V, at the start of its containment, and that got a lot of people dead. It had been so bad, she was indeed distanced from the project by higher ups. Had she not held such a high position in the foundation, Amir wondered if she would’ve been “fired” for her mishap. No matter, she was tough, his bluff didn’t work. And Amir was quick to realize this strange secret foundation had too many interests to just kill him or torture him for information, no. You see, Amir was reasonable and resourceful, he could be used. And Amir could use them as well.
What about his shadow, though? What was there to gain from it? Perhaps nothing. Perhaps all the foundation could do was lock it in a box where it couldn’t hurt anyone and prod at it to see what it would do. For everyone’s safety of course.
At least in their eyes.
Oh Amir was dying to know what they wrote on its files.
A voice sounds out from the radio again: backup is on its way. Looks like their location is clear, and indeed, not much later two more men appear behind his watch guard.
And they brought… ah, great. Someone properly debriefed on Amir’s abilities.
“SCP-105-V, you are to come along. Non-compliance will result in the use of lethal force.” One of the new arrivals approached with a pair of cuffs.
Amir sighed.
“So I get to choose between being shot in the back by you guys or mauled by the things out there?”
“Don’t concern yourself with that, just follow orders.” Was the reply he got as the guard grabs one of his wrists, turns him around and starts cuffing him. Fantastic, he’s only half reassured because of what he briefly heard through the radio. Once his wrists are locked in front of him, the guard pulls out a blindfold.
Really? Well, technically that would be the right way to keep him from snooping, but really ? They want to send him out there, cuffed and blind? The thing is tied over his eyes and once more Amir can’t see anything other than the brightness of his lenses against the fabric.
“Now I’m really hoping you’re not the regular security guard. You know how they often just miss and die.”
He’s ignored as the guard starts patting his body for anything he might’ve taken. He fishes the lockpick from his pockets. Goodbye, you served well.
He is grabbed by the arm and lifted up to his feet.
“Move.”
And then a set of footsteps rings out as they all start walking away. Amir has a second to think about his shadow before feeling it stick under his coat, tucked in the darkness between layers of cloth. It sends shivers down his whole body, but he doesn’t talk.
He can trace an imaginary path to where they’re going by counting his steps and taking notes of their turns, it’s not back to his containment unit, that he knows. He normally could’ve still accessed the cameras overlooking the corridors but he hated to admit that his encounter with the shadow had thrown his concentration off completely and made him lose that connection.
He could still hear the radio however.
West wing secured.
SCP 719-V recontained successfully.
SCP 208-V location unknown.
SCP 003-V location unknown.
They pass a set of hissing doors.
“Ah, 105. I’ve cleared the backroom, it will do for now.” It’s the captain, Byrne is the only name he had access to, he’d love to find out more. He’s passed hands quite literally as Captain Byrne’s hand clutches his shoulder in a reassuring pat.
“105, where did you get these?” He asks.
“Hm?” Amir answers, not quite sure what he’s asking about.
He feels the captain’s hand tug at the coat in his back and for a second he’s worried his secret smuggled captive will be revealed, but then there’s a sting on his skin as the captain instead presses a finger against his back.
“You’ve got a few cuts here.”
Amir is actually surprised. He thought he had imagined the pain, the gripping, the clawing. Apparently it was indeed real.
He swallows.
“Captain I don’t mean to alarm you… but it seems there are monsters in your closet.”
Byrne sighs loudly in an exhausted manner.
“Why do I bother with you… stay put, we’ll get you a nurse once this mess is dealt with.”
Amir almost likes captain Byrne. He’s the one the Moroccan convinced to allow him to keep having tea. But using the word “like” for anyone involved in this organization seems a bit unfitting, regardless of their purposes or beliefs for joining it.
Still he smiles, even though that won’t be seen.
“Thank you. You’re the nicest captors I’ve ever had.” He says cheerfully.
Byrne sighs yet again. He leads Amir to probably the next room over, there's the scrap of metal against tile and then he's gently being pushed to sit down on a rickety chair.
"I'm serious. You best stay put, for your own good." There's another clap on his shoulder, and then the sounds of steps going away.
"You're not even taking the blinds off?" He complains to no one as a door is closed and then locked.
Great… Now he's blind, tied and locked away. Ripe to be torn into shreds by anything wandering in. He still has his shadow at least, but he shouldn't have so much faith that it won’t kill him either. Unfortunately he's helpless and can do nothing but trust it will remain amicable.
As if on cue, he feels goosebumps move up his spine as something brushes against the small of his back. He hears a noise, so subtle it is almost a whisper, or a humm, and then again the air feels heavy with something. Amir's fingers twitch nervously, he moves his hands a smidge, pulling against his cuffs but it's no use, he’s completely unable to fight back if the occasion calls for it.
Without his vision he can only guess where the shadow is moving by the faint whispers of the wind and the oppressive aura of its presence. He swears it is circling him, but otherwise it is leaving him alone.
"Quite a predicament I'm in, right? I fear we will be stuck here for a while." He says. He's terribly nervous and the urge to stall comes up to him through silly jests. As usual there’s no reply to his words so he fidgets, rolling his shoulders a bit and stretching his neck. He’s still trying to find a weakness in his cuffs, twisting his wrists and moving his fingers.
Something growls.
Amir freezes in place, not daring to even breathe as his muscles lock in place. The noise has no follow up other than the before present whispers. Something brushes against his ear and he startles, jerking away reflexively, but the feeling was just a ghost of a touch, nothing more.
He tries to ease back into a proper sitting position, willing his breath to return to normalcy even as his fingers keep fidgeting.
Then he hears a voice.
“ Fear. ”
Goosebumps follow the gravely noise that comes to him. Somehow he thinks he’s hearing himself, his own voice echoed back at him, and yet that’s not right, the voice he heard was deep and almost hissed. His brain cannot make up which one is the truth and it stresses him further.
“Pardon?” His voice barely comes out of his throat, trying to guess what it is the shadow is trying to communicate.
It must’ve come closer, for suddenly Amir feels as if he’s suffocating, a sensation that he’s about to be killed. Escape! Fight back! Scream! Do something!
There’s another low growl.
“I think-“ he stops halfway to gulp a lungful of air. “-you are very aware of how afraid I am.”
The shadow doesn’t say anything, leaving Amir to drown in the thoughts of being watched, hunted, feeling trapped, wanting to just hide and be left alone, of snapping at anything coming too close.
Ah… that’s right, again those feelings are not his.
“You don’t want to be contained again.” He concludes and the shadow seems to agree, the suffocating thought dying down bit by bit to leave Amir only with that uneasiness the shadow’s presence brought.
“How did they contain a shadow in the first place?” He mumbles, mostly out of curiosity. After all, the shadow did escape by nestling against Amir. Why hadn’t it left the base entirely yet?
Something brushes against his chin, almost like a blow of air. He only twitches away this time, but the soft feeling puts a bit of pressure, coaxing him to tilt his head back. He does, pointing his chin up, not too far, just until the overhead lights placed a meter or so ahead of him hit his blindfold more directly, only slightly getting through it.
“Ah…” So there it was. “Do the lights hurt you?”
There is no response. Admittedly, Amir wouldn’t have answered that either. He’s not in the business of telling his weaknesses to people he’s just met (or anyone else for that matter), but he has a feeling his shadow has good reason to hate the light.
“You probably want that off.”
Something shifts again. Goosebumps trail up his skin as he feels that shifting sensation against his back. Restless, it is.
He takes that as a yes.
“I am a bit handicapped at the moment, but I could look for the light switch were I not blindfolded.” He explains, cuffed hands coming up a bit for emphasis. He wonders if the close proximity of his company is due to the shadow his hat no doubt casted. To think it could navigate so… was a mere lamp truly able to deter such a curious creature or was there more reason as to why it didn't escape through slithers of shadow until it could expand infinitely in the darkness of the night outside?
He ponders for a bit. If the shadow has reason to stay then really they weren’t so different after all.
Something touches his face and, still not used to or expecting it, he again jerks away an inch. He stills after it and the touch returns. It is a heavier touch, trailing up his jaw slowly, brushing against his cheek. He breathes in deeply as the sensation moves up very slowly. It stops in the middle of his face, where the golden rim around his eyes begins. And then, it pushes up. Centimeter by centimeter, so very slow. The blindfold is being pushed further up his face. He stills, waiting for the shadow to keep going.
It manages to push it halfway up, with Amir gradually getting glimpses of the wall and door ahead of him. Only one eye is being uncovered and half his field of view from that is thrown in shadows that he guesses are not natural.
He wants to look at the shadow properly. Know what it is like, but it is too close, there’s no discernible shape.
From where he is sitting, he can see when the door is unlocked and suddenly opens.
And then… it is chaos.
The shadow moves and the blindfold falls back down, leaving only a slither for Amir to see through. From the fraction of a second he saw the door, he knows someone in a security uniform is standing there.
The next things happen almost simultaneously.
The guard shouts a swear, the shadow coils and Amir yet again can’t breathe as a survival instinct kicks in as he’s handcuffed and blinded. There’s more than one man outside, there are many voices. At least he’s sure of it for a moment, as in the next the room is flooded with lights, an inhuman screech piercing his ears as something clutches at him painfully. The shouts of security blend and melt away as Amir’s head is filled with screams. His mind is no longer in his shaking body, which is knocked to the floor as it curls up. It is floating in oblivion, surrounded by darkness, it hears the screams and the pleas for help, but he’s drowning in shadows, unable to come to their aid. He can’t! He needs to-!
Please! Please!
It’s too much. It’s too loud. He doesn’t realize his breathing seized under the stress.
He passes out, surrendering to his nightmares.