Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Honestly Michael knew he’d probably eventually be kidnapped by the government, but he didn’t expect it to be so close to finishing his goal of killing his father once and for all. Hopefully Henry can finish doing the rest of it, maybe he wouldn't even notice Michael gone, due to the fact that they don’t talk much, besides the rare phone call. 

The government agency had knocked on his door, and Michael, being the, semi, normal person he was, didn’t look through the peephole before opening the door. 

“…You’re here to kidnap me aren’t you?” Despite the agents being undercover, he could still tell that they weren’t normal by the way they moved.s

The agents looked towards each other, one speaking into a radio, receiving an order, before doing whatever to end a walkie-talkie conversations. And when the person receives the orders, the person nods to the other person, and they both point guns at Michael.

Michael huffs slightly, before laughing dryly, “you’d think I’d be doing cooler stuff if I was being kidnapped,” Michael says before when of the agents shove him along towards a, well army vehicle. And Michael follows along, most of the soap operas he used to watch don’t run anymore, and the new ones are well, terrible. So new form of entertainment unlocked, and it’s the actual pure form of improvisation in real life. Always the best. 

Of course the interior of the vehicle was far more uglier than the outside, although maybe the front of the car was nicer, due to the fact of being basically shoved into the back of the van.

Michael doesn’t know how many times he entered power saving mode, or what normal people called it, sleeping. Although he didn’t technically sleep, corpse and all that. Honestly escaping probably would’ve been easy, unscrew the loose paneling his claw like hands, and then just run, or something.

Honestly the compound in front of him was very bleak, all way too modern, with large gates and fencing, kinda of looked like Wally World, well minus the fact of fencing, and the fact that it’s not blue, or not a grocery store.

The inside was worse, it actually felt like a hospital, too close hallways, doors everywhere, those lights. He would know what a hospital was like.

The agents, having come across a specific door, opens it and shoves him in there. Honestly there’s nothing in the room, actually nothing, all it is is a white square room. The only thing that’s in there, is a small vent, probably just big enough to fit his head in. So he grabs the vent cover with his clawed hand, and just pops it off. You’d think they’d have stronger vent covers.

Sk he just crawls out of the room, and back into the hall. Even if he had to dislocate his shoulders to fit through, it wasn’t that bad.

He ends up waiting there for like two hours before anyone found about him escaping, in that time he was able to find a dropped toothpick, and had made a tiny gun out of it. Of course it only shot out tiny things, like other toothpicks but it was honestly quite fun. 

He’s pretty sure someone’s gonna lose their job due to the fact of not noticing he was outside the door of his room for two hours. It was actually quite hilarious watching multiple guards come up to him. 

Of course he went willingly back into his room, and after he was put inside, he realized the vent cover was covered by a child protection lock. And Michael knows exactly how to undo those, having learned too when he was ten and locked inside a room with it. 

Of course due to the fact of escaping, some one, probably a scientist was sent down to his room, to evaluate him or something.

”Scp-[REDACTED], do you have a name that you would like to be called?” The person said, looking at him expectantly, holding a clipboard. 

“You and any others may call me Mike,” Michael says scraping the table with his nails leaving scratches despite it being metal.

”Alright Mike, can you answer some of my, and many of my colleagues questions?” The person says, about to write whatever Michael says. Michael nods.

”Alright then, my first question is what exactly are you? We cannot prove exactly what you are.”

Michael, thinking of what to say, and how to say it, “Do you know what remnant is? Most of this revolve around this,” the person in front of Michael writes something down, before speaking.

”I don’t think I’ve never heard of what remnant is.”

”It’s basically what souls release when they die horrific and gruesome deaths, although for it to happen, there needs to be a large amounts of emotions.”

”Alright, how does this, remnant work? What does it do?” 

“Remnant can bring things to life, although I’m not sure if it has to be non living, it works better on objects.”

”How does remnant, as you so call it, do to you? We still have no idea what you are.”

“Remnant to me keeps me in this form, forcing me still be here, after dying the remnant in my body kept my soul here, and to answer your other question, I’m simply a rotting corpse, although I can assume you could’ve gotten that from me saying I’m dead.”

”My next question, what were you doing in the outside world? I can assume you can’t do much due to your… state.”

“Although I may look like a shriveled prune, I can hide my body quite well, what I was doing out there, well, let’s just say I was fixing some problems that my father caused for me.”

“Alright, let’s move to your stay here, why and how did you manage to escape your containment cell?”

”Ah, how did I? Well I simply pulled off the vent cover, and crawled through the entire vent system, before getting to the hallway. As for why, I had nothing to realistically do other than escape.”

”Alright, well then, one last question before we send you back to your room, what were you going to do before we captured you? As when we looked through your things, we found some things that we’ll talk about in our next session, but we also found plans you going to try, and burn down an establishment. Although we couldn’t figure out what you might be burning.”

”Oh, you found those,” Michael laughs dryly, “it’s your problem now, since you insist on having kidnapped me.”

”Alright then, although I’d like to ask for questions, I unfortunately have other things I need to do, but thank you Mike, it’s been rather nice to talk to you, most aren’t like this.”

The person leaves, several minutes later, guards come and walk him back to his room.

While he was gone someone had placed a bed in his room, nice. Something he can do, sleep.

Although he probably wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while. 

Chapter Text

Honestly the Scp foundation was kind of fun to be in, get past the fact of being kidnapped and being taken from the outside world, and then it’s quite fun. Honestly the guards are the only reason he doesn’t just leave, he could probably pass as a guard, the guards whenever he escapes just sigh and escort him back to his containment cell.

Sometimes he’ll just watch on as another entity will escape, and he just watches as they cause havoc, a few times he’s escaped and then watched. It’s quite great fun.

Of course when Michael is being escorted out of his cell, he assumes the worst, is he going to have to attend therapy? But when he comes to room similar to the one he had that interview with, they explain to him that they’re putting him in with another entity. Them wanting to see what happens. Or something like that. He wasn’t really listening when they mentioned meeting another person. 

-

[REDACTED] was honestly not expecting to have a visitor, especially what happened after yesterday, honestly just expecting to be delivered a primate, or something similar. But instead a staff member told [REDACTED] that he was going to have, well something more human. Although the personal didn’t specify what the supposedly more human was. 

Something to look forward to.

-

The second coming came through the fact of being kidnapped once again and thrown into another cell. Pretty sure the guard that threw him in this room had a grudge against him, due to the fact of being roughly shoved in rather than just being escorted in.

kind of rude.

The thing he was meeting was very interesting to say the least. It sat at a tea table in the middle of the room, calmly drinking from a teacup. The thing looked like a bubonic plaque doctor, which honestly, looked way better than the costumes from spirit Halloween.

The thing looks up at Michael, and jesters towards the chair opposite. And having sat at a tea table before, he knew how to act, or at least knew, it’s been a while since then. 

So he sits down on the chair, and before it can get rather too awkward, the thing starts the conversation, “I’ve never seen anything quite like you, although I’ve seen several that looked, well rather interesting. I’m intrigued to find out what you are,” the person continues, “now that I’ve gotten that past me, I have to ask, what is your favorite type of tea, as I see you acting like you’ve at least sat down at a tea table.”

“I rather like African Solstice, although my father once introduced me to Belgium mint, I’ve grown to like that too. Even if I can’t have tea anymore, I still find it nice,” Michael says.

”Ah, a man of flavor, although I’ve never had African Solstice, although I have heard of it a few times. Belgium mint is one of my close favorites. But I’ve got to ask, you said that you can’t of tea anymore, and I find myself interested in why.”

”When I was younger, it’s been a few too long years since then, I had my organs ripped out of me rather gruesomely.”

”That explains, the well, purple coloring you have, suppose it’s common for dead human body’s to enter rigor mortis and turn a dark purplish hue, although I’ve never seen a purple that dark before. And how long would you say you’ve been in this state?”

”Well, let’s see, I died when I was rather young, early twenties, I’m not throughly sure though, and it’s been maybe ten years. Although I could be wrong, as it’s been quite a long time since I’ve died.” 

“That’s rather intriguing, since usually rigor mortis stops happening after 36 hours, never have I seen a case of someone being the same shade as you for ten years.”

”It might of have been caused by the remnant that has long since turned into agony.”

”I suppose you see it coming, but what is remnant and agony, I’ve never heard of those terms before.”

”Remnant is, or well happens when a soul, usually of a child, dies a horrific, or rather gruesome death, leaving behind the emotions of the person died. Although I don’t know all the specifics of it, my father was the one to find out about it.”

“That’s rather interesting, but I find it intriguing how you said it might of have been caused by it, which doesn’t really explain much,” the person says, tilting their head forward.

”Ah, I’m sorry for the confusion, my soul is kept here because of the agony of what used to be remnant, it there was no remnant to began with, my soul would’ve have already passed on.”

”I can’t help but ask how you ended up with what you call remnant in your body.”

“My father built what he called the scooper, at base level is was just suppose to fix what he worked on, but below the surface level, it injected remnant into what my father worked on, making them able to move more. When I died due to the machine, due to me not being what my father worked on, it injected me with the remnant, and the, well monster I would say that was, used me as a skin suit. Leaving more remnant in my body.”

”That’s rather interesting, I’ve never heard of someone coming back to life due to something that doesn’t directly come from their body, also what would you say your father worked on?”

”My father worked on advanced robotics, although they were made to entertain children, it’s not what he used them for. My little sister and brother died to the fact of him making animatronics that were intended to kill people. Although I played a rather large factor in killing my younger brother.”

Before the two of them could finish talking, a staff member came in and called for Michael to be put back into his room. So rather reluctant, he got up and left the room with the staff member, being escorted by them instead of guards.

When he was back into his room, some one had added more things to his room, a nightstand, with a notebook with blank pages and a pencil, a rather, in his opinion, ugly rug, his mask from his house, and a clock. Honestly he was glad about the notebook, and very happy about the mask.

Chapter Text

Michael officially hated everything. Well he did before, but now it’s amplified.

Because 1. They took his TV away, Claiming it was because he caused one of the guards to have to get therapy(score!).

Then they decided to take some samples, and hey he could respect that(somewhat at least), but then his rotten purple flesh caused a fire or something, and they wanted more. For whatever reason. And like a good, well behaving young adult, he proceeded to climb under his bed, and cling to the bed’s under frame.

Of course they came looking for him, and when one of the weird guys with orange jumpsuits looks at him, under the bed, Michael, not a freak of nature, hisses at him. Like an angry cat on steroids. The man in the orange suit proceeded to scream before running out of the room. Michael drops down from his hiding space, before calmly sitting on his bed, like a proper gentleman. Unlike a yankee.

An entirely different scientist approaches him after a few more minutes, a scowl on their face. They don’t even grace him with a response before grabbing out a scalpel from wherever, probably a bag, before grabbing his arm roughly.

The person starts cutting a strip off of his arm, dead nerve endings don’t allow for pain, but still, phantom pain shoots up his arm, causing him to grit his teeth.

The person pulls the piece of flesh away from his body, the gash slowly starts healing over, and the person leaves, locking the door behind him. The guy didn’t even notice when he stole his scalpel. He carefully turns to the wall, before slipping it into the crack between the wall and the bed, and sticking it into the side of the bed. 

He hopes that the camera didn’t catch him hiding it.

——

Later, at night he’s pretty sure(time is hard in a place without windows or clocks), he grabs the scalpel, before going to the door, he slides it into the crease between door and doorframe, right where the scanner on the other end is, before jabbing and pushing it up. He hears a click, before shoving the door open, it gives a little resistance, but it opens easily. 

Michael decides to go to the cafeteria, the people don’t feed him, he doesn’t need to eat, but he likes chewing things even if he doesn’t have taste buds left. There’s a few signs here there, arrows leading to more halls, halls leading to more arrows leading to more halls.

After a while of looking, he does find the cafeteria. He sits down at one of the many tables before resting his head on his hand. 

People pass by him, oblivious to the corpse in front of them. He hears conversations better then any opera he’s ever heard.

”Oh my god! Did you hear Trisha? Josh got with the secretary of our manager?”

”He’s gay?” 

Something said quietly after that, before laughing pours out them.

“Well anyways, did you know-“ before back to hushed talking. 

Another conversation he overhears, “yeah my dad got stuck in that IKEA building, came out uh, semi normal”

Michael can’t help but be confused, IKEA? Isn’t that Swedish?

”Sorry? I guess man?”

”it’s fine, hated the man, beat me till I was bloody when drunk. Anyways, how’s your sandwich?”

Michael decides it’s either being in here, or getting his TV back, and he will bite someone. Probably.

Someone sits down in front of him, with a tray, “You a new hire?” The person asks, clearly having not noticed the plum like skin he adorns like a coat.

”Yeah, let’s go with that,” the man nods, before taking a bite out of their apple. 

“So how’d you end up in this” the man makes a little swirling motion with his hand, “shit hole?” The man takes a big bite of his apple.

”I was kidnapped.”

”Same”

The man doesn’t ask anything else for a little bit, before looking up at him, finally, for the first time, and while doing so says, “So what do you do in this pigs- oh what the fuck.”

And Michael, like the nice, amazing, cool, young adult, waves.

”Ah, you know what? I could honestly care less, welcome to the team, you’re coming with me after lunch, yeah?”

Michael nods, because what are you going to do when someone says something like that? Not go with them?

The man goes on and on about mundane things, his wife cheating on him with his ex, murdering his ex(?), and then being brought here.

”So! What your life story kid?”

”When were you born?”

”Ah, why’d you want to know? In 1989, why?”

”I was born in 1970, I am not a kid,” Michael grins as the man gains a confused look, before shrugging. 

“Still gonna call you kid, kid.”

Whatever.

——

The man does make good on his promises, after throwing the items he had on his tray, and the tray, the man then proceeded to start dragging Michael until Michael actually reregistering what was happening, and started walking along with him. 

“Got any hobbies kid?” The man asks, as they turn around a corner, the man waves at a presumed coworker.

”Robotics, guitar, I guess.” 

“Luckily you then! I work in the tech department, get to suffer all day long as people flood my inbox with questions about why their pen didn’t work writing that document out. And you get to mess with the robotics parts I keep in my drawers.”

”Ah, ok then,” Michael has no words, well three words actually, but. 

A sign next to a door, “TECH DEP.” And below that a sticky note, “press the power button on the underside of your computer before contacting us.”

The man opens the door, before leading him in to sit in one of those cool spiny chair things. Before pulling out a whole drawer filled with wires and metal, and whatever.

”Go crazy kid.”

And crazy he did.