The Attack

I laid in bed that night, the word Dr. Roth said echoing in my head, the often thundering explosions being the only white noise for my brain. I sat up in my bed and looked around my room. The shelf full of books seemed to mock me, full of my diaries from over the years. I groaned as I kicked my legs out of the bed and walked over to the shelf. The dates of each diary were facing me.

I grabbed the one from the year I came here and opened to page one.

"Dear reader," It said, "I'm writing this down so when I am released from jail, you will be able to not make the same mistakes I have."

I recalled this memory. I was thrown into jail after I was falsely accused of murder. I turned the pages to a few weeks after that, when I was first brought to the SCP foundation.

"They told my parents I was dead! I can't see them either. It hurts a bit, knowing they'll never know the truth, but it's for the best. Also, my overreactive imagination isn't what made the pictures move! I have some sort of ability. I'm like a superhero! There is this Doctor who is working with me to learn more about my powers. His name is Dr. Kondraki. He won't tell me his first name, which is fine, but he really enjoyed photography too! Maybe we can be friends!"

I frowned. I was so hopeful about my new life all those years ago. I closed the diary and slid it back onto the shelf. 13 years of history were on these shelves. When I came here, I was twelve. Now, at 25 years old, I'm still in the same cell as before.

But I changed. It has been 10 years since Omega-7. 8 years since the incident, and 6 years since I tried to kill myself.

I'm different...

I sat down again on my bed. The thundering caught my attention. It wasn't unheard of that explosions would be around. It happened now and then, oftentimes from a test. They usually sounded more controlled, but that wasn't unheard of either.

My attention snapped up as my cell door opened. An agent walked in that I'd never seen before. He was young, with slightly darker skin and Hispanic features.

"105. Get up. We need to move you." He spoke.

Ok, he was definitely new. Most of the personnel at Site-17 said Iris instead of my SCP number. "Should I take anything?" I said, standing up.

He shook his head, "No time. We'll send someone for it later," he motioned me to hurry. I scurried after him, following him into the hallway. My security knowledge noticed he forgot to resecure the door. A chill went up my spine. Something was wrong.

Well, more than I was used to.

He looked down the hallway, before turning around, "This way." I could tell he was a bit turned around. I almost offer to guide him, but he probably didn't want a "Skip" showing him around. I followed him for about five minutes when I heard gunshots down the hall. The guard pulled out a sidearm, "Stay behind me."

My pulse quickened. That's why I'm being moved.

There's a breach.

We turned the corner and I froze. Three dead bodies lay in the hallway. Two were site security. The third one was in a black uniform I didn't recognize. Painful memories of Omega-7 came up in my brain. Images of dead bodies littering the floor, most of them my friends and comrades. In the middle of it stood a lean Semitic man, covered in tattoos and holding a large black sword. I shook my head and followed the agent again.

He opened a door for us to continue when another gunshot rang, this time louder. The agent fell backward as the back of his head blossomed outward. I held in a scream as he fell, backing out of the doorway. I crouched in the frame of another door as I listened to the sounds coming from the attacker.

Footsteps came closer. I held my breath as they stopped in the door frame, their shadow on the floor. I stayed silent, praying he didn't see me. A few seconds passed and he walked away, a wave of relief washing over me. I scooted to the dead agent. I needed to find help, but I also need defense. I picked up the dead agent's sidearm and went the opposite way. I wanted to avoid conflict if I could, and hopefully, I'll find someone to help me.

I passed by different containment rooms, ducking into crevasses when I heard something. A small part of me wanted to hide in one of the containment rooms till someone could find me. The other part knew that whatever was in the rooms was probably dangerous, and I'd have better chances with whatever is attacking site 17.

I turned the corner and froze. A containment chamber had its door torn off its hinges. Many dead bodies dressed in black suits were lying on the floor. Sitting next to them was a giant creature I recognized from my days in Omega-7. It was SCP-082, Fernand the cannibal he'd been nicknamed. He sat at a scary 8ft tall and was happily munching on the arm of one of the bodies. He looked up and smiled at me, his clenched teeth still around the arm, "Ah, ma chère, you join the party?"

I tightened my grip around the sidearm, keeping my breathing steady and forcing myself to remain calm. His soothing french accent did nothing to calm my nerves. "Fernand."

"Will you take a quick pique-nique with me?"He asked me, "I'm having my morning exercise."

"N-no thank you," I walked past him, going at a calm average pace. You need to stay calm around Fernand. He is a predator after all. Predators chase things that run, like prey.

"As you like. Perhaps we meet again later, eh? A little rendezvous, tres romantique!" He called after me. I suppressed a shudder. Fernand is one of the few SCPs on the site I can't stand. Still, he's better than 076.

I entered another doorway and closed the door behind me. I hurried down the hall and crouched as gunfire sounded above me. I looked at the hall to the left at what seemed to be a black cow. The air around it seemed to ripple, somehow distorting. It immediately turned towards me and I booked it. I heard it taking chase.

I needed to think fast.

I spotted another hallway to my left and slipped into it, shutting the door before the cow thing could get me. My heart was pounding again. I took some deep breaths to slow it down.

"Fire!"

I froze as the voice shouted the command. My instincts took hold and I rolled behind a piece of broken concrete. The sound of guns firing exploded in my ears, but nothing happened. I leaned over and spotted 5 more men in black suits down the hall, using an overturned desk as cover. I couldn't see what they were shooting at, but thankfully it wasn't me. The bullets flew overhead as I ducked back undercover.

I needed a plan.

I could play dead so they'd leave me alone. But if they do find me, they will know I'm an SCP. A dead SCP is still useful. And besides, they'll surely discover I'm faking it. Which is even worse!

I looked at the pistol in my hand.

I knew what I had to do.

I peeked to the side with my pistol in hand and shot the closest guy in the back of the head. Then the next. And the next. It was so easy.

That's why I hated it.

I was about to shoot the fourth when there was a click. The gun refused to fire. It was jammed. Without even thinking, I moved into action. I hit the magazine with the heel of my palm and the jammed bullet flew out. The last two guys began to realize something was wrong, so they charged at me. I cocked the gun again and fired at them, killing the fourth. The fifth raised his gun at me and my heart stopped.

A loud bang sounded, but it was the fifth guy who fell over. I looked out from my barricade as MTF agents moved toward me. I could feel myself again, and I could feel something rise into my throat as I looked at the bodies. I needed to get out of here.

"I'm over here!" I called. "SCP-105! They're dead!"

"Ok, come on out 105," One called to me. I kicked the gun toward them and got on my knees with my hands behind my head. The captain waved his hand and they advanced toward me. One of them stopped to cuff me and lift me to my feet.

"You alright?" he asked me.

"Yes," I replied, "Nothing more than a few bruises."

"Jason," The captain spoke in a deep voice, "Take 105 to the breach shelter."

I stepped over the bodies as we walked off to the shelter, where Cain was most likely being held. My hands tingled. Part of that was exhilarating to me, an excitement that had been missing before. I shook my head and let the agent guide me to the shelter.