#recreyo scp

[no-thoughts-only-soup]

<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

The first (partly) rewritten chapter of the Tumblr version!

[no-thoughts-only-soup]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

New chapter for the AO3 Version! Just like the last one, this isn’t one you have seen before Recreyoblr! Specifically it’s about Curt’s first week on the job

[no-thoughts-only-soup]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

SUP NERDS FIRST CHAPTER IS ON AO3 NOW

And its a new one too ;)

[no-thoughts-only-soup]

To Secure / Risk It All

Chapter 10 / Epilogue 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

————

He hated them. No, that wasn’t right. He despised them. Loathed them. Or maybe, no word existed to convey just how much hate he harboured for them.

But he could not show it. Never say it.

He could only keep his face straight as the 05 council looked down on him.

The monitors were mounted to the wall above him on for that purpose. It had to. Of course they wanted to look down on anyone that wasn’t them. They didn’t even have the audacity to show their faces. Instead, they presented themselves as faceless silhouettes, peering down at him.

He hoped they didn’t notice the way his fingers dug into his hands, clasped behind his back.

“You may speak.” One, the leader, spoke, voice distorted.

Steeling himself and without moving an inch, he did.

“If I may be so bold to assume, I take this ‘emergency meeting’ you called is about the escape of SCP-9475, no?”

Even though the action made him want to hurl, he bowed his head. “I must confess my failure in containing and re-capturing SCP-9475. I underestimated their capabilities and the Foundation paid the price. I accept my mistakes come with a price and I am fully prepared to pay.”

He raised his head, looking up at the monitor in front of him. “However, I must stress that my failure is also due to a lack of resources. Their Euclid level, and the legal limitations in capturing that comes with it, restricted my ability to safely re-contain SCP-9475. Hence my request to the council to review SCP-9475’s status. I am positive that with a Keter status and accompanying resources, I can secure and contain SCP-9475 once more and this time without leaving room for any more escape attempts in the future.”

It was silent. Too silent.

He wished he could silence them forever.

“Please explain and elaborate.”

I won’t just kill you. “Research has suggested that SCP-9475’s abilities stem from the frontal and parietal lobes.” I’ll humiliate you. “Now, while removal of those areas is possible, it would be an unnecessary decommissioning.” I’ll will hurt and kill everyone you love. “Instead, I propose a similar containment option as SCP-239, where the SCP is kept in a medically induced coma.” I will break every bone in your body twice. “This way, we can secure SCP-9475 without risk of another containment breach.” I take and destroy everything you have. “Finally, with the research that can be conducted, we could potentially find a way to harness their ability to better contain Keter and perhaps even Apollyon class SCP’s.” And then I will put you out of your misery.

…

…

Why are they silent?

The faceless in front of him leaned forward. “Tell me. What does SCP stand for?”

…Why were they asking asking such an obvious question.

“To protect humanity from anomalies-“

“No. What does our acronym stand for?” They interrupted him.

……Why are they asking stupid questions!?

“………..May I ask-?”

“Answer the question.”

He tried to keep his gaze straight and face emotionless. “…….Secure, Contain and Protect, sir.”

Silence.

He wished he could tear out their eyes. Anything to stop the judging gazes upon him.

Finally, the faceless spoke. “We shall start with the first point. We have accepted your request to review SCP-9475’s status and we have come to the conclusion that Euclid is no longer applicable.”

He couldn’t keep a small smile from forming on his face.

“After discussion, we have decided to revise SCP-9475 status…”

This was it. This was his chance. His chance to-

“…to Archon.”

……… He was dumbfounded.

“What?”

“Archon is a class appointed to SCP’s that the Foundation is either completely unable or should not contain.”

“I know what Archon is.” The words blurted from his mouth before he could stop himself. He stopped, scraped his throat, and continued. “Apologies. But I want to ask why. Archon is reserved for SCP’s that are impossible to contain, such as concepts, or SCP’s that would be detrimental to humanity if contained. SCP-9475 is not a concept and can be contained. It also does not benefit humanity in any way. A Keter class would be more than sufficient.”

The faceless leaned back. “Even for a Keter class, containing SCP-9475 is a high risk-factor. The last attempt to do so resulted in disaster. More specifically a mass breach that you were barely able to re-contain.”

“It won’t happen again.” He stated, no, pleaded. “SCP-9475 will be separated and brought in a medical coma. This will keep them from activating their ability. We-“

The voice of the faceless raised. “I was not finished TALKING!”

He forced his teeth together.

“Conversely, despite SCP-9475’s reality altering abilities, the very nature of the pocket dimension they create means that all consequences of their actions are essentially erased, including memories, bodily harm and even death, as I’m sure you can attest to. This makes their actual risk towards humanity and the Veil minimal. SCP-9475 is no threat to civilians or their understanding of the universe. Granted, it’s not a perfect reset, as prolonged exposure can result in memories being maintained, but that is nothing the Foundation can’t fix themselves.”

No. He would not let this happen.

“This is against everything the Foundation stands for.” He argued. “SCP-9475 is an anomaly. It is not human. We keep other harmless SCP’s contained, as they should. There are containment options available to us. Why are you letting this one go!?”

They were silent. Silent for too long. But he didn’t mind this time. Because they were obviously considering his rightful words. There was no way he could allow them to just roam free. They had to see that. They would agree with him. There was no way they wouldn’t.

The faceless stared at him. Stared into his soul. He fought the chill going down his spine.

“You say that this is against the Foundation’s mission, correct?”

His mouth was dry. Why was his mouth dry? “Yes. Our mission is to Secure anomalies, Contain them and Protect humanity.”

Eyes pierced like daggers through him. He could tell the eyes of the faceless narrowed.

“Wrong.”

That single word caught him off guard, caused him to change his stance. He released the hands behind his back and one of his feet took a single step backwards. What was going on? Has the council gone mad!?

“Our mission is not just to protect humanity from SCP’s. It’s also to protect SCP’s from humanity. That is why we enact humane procedures on contained SCP’s and secure even the harmless ones.”

He pursed his lips to a thin line. “With all due respect, protecting the Veil is protecting humanity.”

For a moment, it seemed another member of council wanted to speak, but the faceless leaned forward again.

“Tell me, why do we keep SCP-085?”

“I don’t-“

“It’s a living drawing on a piece of paper. If we wanted to, we could easily toss her in the incinerator and she would be fully neutralised. So why do we spend Foundation money on her containment, allow personnel to draw items for her and talk to her? She’s a drawing, what kind of information could we gather from her that is helpful to society? So why, why do we keep her contained?”

“Curiosity?”

“No.” The faceless loomed over him. “It’s because we’re not monsters. We care. We care about humans, yes, but we also care about other beings with similar sentience. It’s why we installed rules, it’s why we installed the Ethics Committee.”

The room grew colder.

“An Ethics Committee that you have repeatedly brushed off, lied to and barred excess from your site.”

The cracks started to spring. It was in the way he widened his eyes ever so slightly.

“Oh, did you think we wouldn’t find out? I must admit, it was a good try. But we know and we are not happy.”

No. This couldn’t be happening.

“But that is a matter for later. In conclusion: SCP-9475 is a harmless non-to-minor threat to the Veil that is easily solved with amnestics. Contrary to that, SCP-9475 is near impossible to capture and contain, save for expensive, aggressive, disproportionate and inhumane measures. An Archon classification is more than fitting.”

No. He couldn’t let this happen!

“Are you all blind!?” He roared, the held-back venom finally spewing out. “With SCP-9475 contained, we can potentially get control over the power of reality altering! We can contain SCP’s thought to be uncontainable! Are you content with risking humanity’s safety for a single SCP!?”

There was a SLAM of a hand being brought down on the table.

“Johnathan Snee, I believe you must remember that Lady Luck already smiled upon you when SCP’s nature of undoing their actions saved you from death. Do not push her any further than you already have!”

He wasn’t even aware of the way he had balled his fists, narrowed his eyes or leaned forward until that last word left the faceless’s mouth. Taking back his composure, he fixed his stance, although he failed to look at the monitor directly.

“Facility Director Johnathan Snee, you are guilty of disrupting the Ethics Committee, unlawful experimentation of an SCP, being responsible for the death of said SCP, allowing SCP to break containment, and, if we are to believe some of your staff, abhorrent treatment of c-class and b-class. We shall discuss your full punishment, but do not believe you will be let off easily. For the time being, you are relieved of your duty and will remain in your designated quarters until further notice. You are dismissed.”

The screens turned off one by one, leaving him in darkness. Snee took a deep breath and turned on the lights with the remote, and turned them off when he left the room. He didn’t face anyone. He didn’t talk to anyone. He just walked to his room in the facility and closed the door behind him.

Those bastards. Everything he had worked for, gone in a flash. Gone because of a single, unimportant SCP. Every night of slaving away, every moment of hard work, every step he had clawed on the ladder, all for nothing.

And as he walked into his bathroom, his eyes caught his reflection in the mirror. Caught the faded red mark, like a bruise, right on his forehead. As a reminder of his greatest failure. Of the audacity, the nerve of the man and his so-called ‘friends’ to defy him, to shoot him, when he deserved-

He stopped his fist before it hit the glass.

Calm your mind. Count to ten. Breaking your things isn’t going to fix anything. It will just count against you.

He gripped the sink like a lifeline.

No. What he needed to do was think.

He needed plan B.

Snee took out his phone and walked out of the bathroom, then out the door of his quarters. Immediately, he activated the app, and walked back in.

The cameras would only show an empty room. But that didn’t mean he had all the time in the world.

He closed the door and locked it, and headed immediately for his bed, pulling it aside and reaching into the secret compartment.

Important documents about SCP-9475. Test results he had stolen. Every bit of information he was and was not allowed to have.

He picked out one of the photos. A photo of his former B-class underling. Curt Richy, the man who rebelled against him and stole everything away from him.

But it didn’t matter. His rank didn’t matter. His job didn’t matter. The Foundation didn’t matter. Because he had found something more powerful:

The ability to manipulate reality.

Run as far as you can, little monster. He thought to himself with a smile. Because it doesn’t matter. I will find you again, and I’ll take everything I lost and more. Your powers, my revenge, my victory…

I will secure it all!

———————

Not me trying to finish before it officially ends. I can’t imagine I wrote another chapter before I put links in the previous one lol

One more chapter left! And then I’ll start posting everything to AO3, with some fixes (and maybe some additional prologue???)

[no-thoughts-only-soup]

To Secure / Risk It All

Chapter 9

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

———————————-

Teleporting was a surreal experience. One moment he was in a small room just barely big enough for the car, Foundation guards breaking down the door, and the next he was outside, the car dropping onto the dirt road.

Wait, shit!

Curt turned around. Yup, they had teleported outside… as in right outside the building.

Shit. He needed to think quickly. “Den! I’m giving you a bazooka, blow up the gates!” He yelled.

The weight of the bazooka nearly crushed her, but she simply kicked the car door open and aimed. Curt shielded his ears as she fired, the gates exploding into pieces.

“FLOOR IT KRISTINE!” Christian half-yelled half-cheered at her.

“On it!”

The car roared to life and sped past the remains of the gate, as alarms and sirens sounded behind them.

The sudden speed caused them all to slam forward. And then to the left. To the right. To-

“KRISTINE WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GET YOUR LICENSE!?” Curt screamed as he held onto for dear life.

“Foundation vehicle behind us!” Ivan distracted him, easily keeping up with the high speed.

Christian grabbed Curt’s shoulders. “Curt. My man. My dude. Listen to me. You gotta give me a machine gun. Do it for me!”

“I got you fam.” Curt grinned. “So the car has a machine gun on the roof!”

The car shook from the sudden weight, but Christian had already rolled down the roof window and climbed up. It spurred to life, ripping straight through everything behind them, until the truck behind them exploded.

Den pouted. “Awww I wanted to use a machine gun.”

Curt’s eyes caught something on the right. “You’re gonna be too busy with your bazooka for that!”

“Truck on the right!” Ivan yelled and Den took aim.

Kristine made another sharp turn and Curt slammed against the window. Two bullets missed them by a hair’s width.

“CHRISTIAN!”

“Bruh chill! I’m busy!”

Damn. This was bad. They had to find a way to shake them off, or else they’d never escape. But Curt smirked.

Reality was theirs to make.

He rolled down the window, hand curling.

“I throw a smoke grenade at them!”

He chucked the newly appeared item at the car behind them. A thick mist exploded from it, completely obscuring the area behind them. Curt sat back down, watching how Den took out another truck.

Ivan suddenly floated up next to him. “Dude, just make the car invisible.”

…Yeah, that was honestly a better idea.

“Kristine, you now have a button that makes the car invisible.”

“Aw, why?” Den whined from her seat. “I’m having the time of my life.”

“Yeah, when else am I gonna risk my life while using a machine gun?” Christian complained.

“This is too much fun, I’m keeping it like this.” Kristine laughed, turning the car around a sharp corner yet again.

“OH MY GOD JUST FUCKING GET US OUT OF HERE I’M TIRED OF THIS SHIT!”

“Yeah no.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Stop railroading us Curt!”

Loudly cursing, Curt climbed in between the front seats and slammed his hand on the button, ignoring his friends’ protests.

God punished him immediately, as the car jumped into a steep part, causing him to slam back into the back of the car.

Nevertheless, it seemed to have worked, as the car started changing colors.

Curt got up and looked into the rear window. No cars were following them anymore.

“Road ahead!” Kristine yelled.

Ivan grinned. “I sure hope-“

“I said ‘road ahead’ not ‘road work ahead’!” Kristine pointed out, causing the others to laugh while Ivan pouted.

She steered the car onto the road. A few civilians cars traveled the same path and Kristine seamlessly interweaved with them. A split in the road came up ahead and after they took the untraveled one, Curt erased the machine gun, pulled Christian down and removed the camouflage.

And as they trudged along the roads, Curt was so thankful Kristine had chosen a car out of all things. It allowed him to lay back and watch the sun setting in the distance, knowing that every second that passed, the facility got farther and farther away.

“Yo Curt, you good?”

He looked to his right to see Ivan in between him and Christian, looking at him with concern.

God, he could feel the bags under his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, just… tired. And hungry. Scratch that, I’m exhausted.”

Den perked up from her seat. “We can make up a McDonald’s.”

“YES ITS MCRIBBING TIME!” Christian yelled aloud, and Curt flinched a little.

“Ok but what’s the last time we actually got full in a scenario?”

Immediately, Christian sighed. “Come on, I hate it when you make sense.”

They laughed, and Curt leaned against the window. God, he wanted to take a nap so badly. He wouldn’t dare though. There was no saying what would happen if the host fell asleep. And with everything that happened, he’d probably have nothing but nightmares for the next three years.

Instead, he tried to focus on the talking and laughter of his friends. Their chattering. Their warmth. Their adrenaline. Their energy. Their joy. Their…

Christian shook his shoulder, and Curt snapped out of it.

“Don’t fall asleep, dumbass.”

Curt pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know, I know… Kristine, please tell me we’re nearing a town or a city or anywhere we can find a place to sleep.”

“I was about to say it. Town up ahead!”

Taking a steady breath, Curt looked out the window. The silhouette of houses quickly grew bigger as they neared closer and closer.

“I can barely keep my eyes open, so let’s end the scenario asap. Keep on the lookout for a place to sleep.”

Ivan frowned. “But is it good to go with this car into town? Won’t people recognize it?”

Kristine shrugged. “I mean we can change how it looks, but the facility has abnormality scanners, so it’s not like that matters…”

Curt sighed. “Fuck, I forgot about those.”

Den looked out of the window, at the grassy field next to the road. “How about we run the last few meters? It’s dark enough to not get spotted.”

Curt weighted the option. He didn’t like it. “We’d be so slow though, especially since we have to carry the full weight of Ivan’s bones. And who knows if this place even has somewhere safe to take a nap.”

But Christian leaned forward in his seat. “No, I agree with Den. Curt, no offense, but from the looks of it you’re gonna be knocked out by the time we find a motel. Let’s gun the last few steps.”

With the vote apparently being decided, Kristine turned the car towards a small dirt path. After a bit of driving on it, she stopped, and everyone got out. Curt breathed in the cold evening air, feeling the sleepiness die down a bit. Christian took over carrying the backpack with Ivan’s bones, the owner floating to their eye level to avoid making himself stand out too much. With a nod between all of them, they ran.

Trudging through a grassy field was a lot more difficult than running through stone hallways, as the uneven ground caused them to stumble occasionally. Curt didn’t mind, as with every step, they were one step closer to freedom. An excited smile spread across his face, and he was just this close to picking up the pace. He turned his head and saw Kristine, Den and Christian half-running half-stumbling behind him, and Ivan floating with them, exhausted themselves but with equally excited grins. He slowed his pace a little, so they had time to catch up.

“Okay, we’re pretty much in town, can we end the scenario so I can come back to life?” Ivan asked.

Den nodded in rare agreement. “I’m so hungry, I wanna eat somewhere.”

Instead of shouting it herself, Kristine looked at Curt. “Do the honors, Curt!”

The excitement grew in his chest. They were free. “RECREYO OUT!” He yelled, a little louder than intended, but with heart.

They were free. They did it. They-

BANG!

…

…

…

Curt didn’t realize what happened. Not at first. One moment he was running, the next it felt like someone had slapped on the back so hard, it caused him to lose his balance and trip.

As he fell, he took in the faces of his friends, and how they changed. From startled and confused, to horrified.

Only after he landed did he feel the searing pain. And he realized.

I got shot.

To say it hurt was an understatement, as it BURNED. White hot like a nail being driven through him, the feeling of flesh being pierced, and it HURT!

Out of his throat came only a gasp and he bit his lip to the point of bleeding just to avoid screeching it out.

“Curt!” They yelled, voices overlapping with each other. He wanted to reassure them. Get back up his feet, urge them to move, to slip into the dark alleyways of town.

The voice of the devil froze him in his place.

“Freeze.”

It was a simple command. One that worked. A voice that was firm and louder than normal, but not to the point of screaming. It was… contained.

Curt twisted around just enough to see Snee stepping towards him, arms behind his back and followed by a squadron of armed guards.

“I must admit, that was an admirable effort, SCP-9475.”

He stopped, just out of range if one of them were to make a move, but not too far. Curt glanced at his friends. They too were trying not to move, eyes moving between him, Snee, the guns, anywhere they could run…

“But your attempt fails here. By protocol, I am to have all five of you neutralized immediately…”

Snee turned his eyes towards Curt, locking gazes. “… but I am feeling merciful. Tell me, Richy, do you remember how I told you about choices, and how I prayed you made the right one?”

Curt choose to only answer with a glare.

Snee continued on as if nothing had happened. “I do. And I will give you a second chance.”

He turned towards the group as a whole, never once wavering. “You can choose to surrender yourselves to the Foundation. Your lives will be spared and will never be threatened again. Or…”

The guards trained their guns on them a little more, their fingers no doubt on the trigger. Snee simply smiled.

“You can choose not to, and unfortunately I will be forced to enact on protocol and neutralize you on the spot.”

“Oh what a choice you’re giving us.” Christian snarked. “Surrender or die.”

The eerie smile on Snee’s lips simply stayed. “Of course, trying to activate your little pocket dimension again counts as no. So, what will it be, SCP-9475?”

Curt grit his teeth, trying not to let any noise of pain escape his throat. That motherfucking son of a BITCH! Had he been following them the entire time? Or was the whole town Foundation property? It didn’t matter, Snee had backed them into a corner.

It didn’t help that there was nothing to stop the seething pain. He wasn’t even sure if the bullet had fully pierced him, and quite frankly he didn’t want to know! But he could still feel blood escaping him at an alarming rate.

Snee glanced back at him, eyes cold. “I’d not hesitate for too long with your decision, if you want him to survive…”

Curt averted his eyes, looking at his friends instead. Kristine looked fearful and being close to panic, occasionally glancing over to him. Den was trembling in silent rage, no doubt fantasizing about stabbing the ever loving fuck out of Snee, but knowing that even with a knife in her hand, she wouldn’t never get that close to Snee again. Christian looked as if he was trying to keep calm, find a solution, come up with a plan…

And Ivan… floated up above them, face filled with more rage than Curt had ever seen.

“You know what? Screw you and your fake so-called ‘choices’ bullshit! I’ve HAD it with this shit! So, the five of us-”

“Fire.” Snee simply said.

They fired their guns, the loud noises threatening to deafen them. But the bullets simply phased through Ivan’s incorporeal form without any harm or damage done.

“SUCK MY COCK AND BALLS SNEE! The five of us are Eldridge-“

“Shoot the others.” Snee commanded, agitation slowly creeping into his voice.

“- BULLETPROOF man-eating monsters…”

“Shoot them.” His voice became a snarl.

“…Who have been PISSED. THE FUCK. OFF!”

“SHOOT THEM!”

Kristine slammed her hands on the ground, and dozens of large vines sprouted up between the shooters, snaring whoever was close enough. Den ran, slid underneath an incoming vine and stabbed a guy in the neck, half a dozen knives floating around her. She grabbed one and flung it directly into another guy’s head. Christian’s arm turned into a machine gun and he started shooting into the carnage, picking off those out of Den’s range.

Curt, knowing they had it, turned to his own wound and focused.

“I… use magic to push out the bullet and heal.”

His left hand glowed softly and he pressed it against his midriff. The wound flared, trying to close itself as the bullet tried to move, but to no avail.

Come on, come ON! Why isn’t it working!? It’s gotta work!

He looked up. Den had gone full Chaos God mode, a form he recognized from the past. She was stabbing people left and right, eating their souls and occasionally shooting out dark tendrils to pierce whatever seemed out of her range, all while floating a tad off the ground. Kristine had turned into a dog, biting any ankles that got too close for her. Christian was… giving one guy therapy? Oh wait, the guy was suddenly shooting at his comrades; it was gaslighting. He wasn’t even surprised Ivan’s ghostly form was naked at this point, using it as a distraction.

He focused on his injury again, gritting his teeth and focusing all his thoughts on curing it.

It wasn’t working nearly as well as he hoped.

Why is it not working? Is it because I got shot outside the scenario? Or has that bastard done something with their guns? Something that allows them to ignore our immortality? Come on, it’s gotta work, it’s gotta work, it’s gotta-

Something hit him in the side hard. Hard enough to topple him onto his back as he let out a gasp of air and a strangled cry of pain.

The click of a gun being cocked rang out.

Curt looked up, straight into Snee’s eyes and into his gun.

“Pity. Seems your ‘friends’ forgot about you and I.”

He swallowed back some spit. And despite everything, he broke into a shaky grin. “Y’know, shooting the black guy is kinda fucked up, y’know?”

Snee looked blankly at him. And broke in dark chuckles. It was only then that Curt saw how unhinged he had become. His carefully slicked back hair had gotten out of place, falling over his face, nearly covering the top half of his face, only allowing for his eyes and nose to poke through. His neat suit was dirtied with mud and in disarray, and his tie had gotten loose. And his cold eyes… were like a wolf’s.

“You only have yourself to blame for this.” Snee told him. “I was telling the truth when I said we could have worked together. But you have forced my hand. I cannot allow you to live anymore.”

He aimed the gun directly at Curt’s head. Curt’s eyes darted from left to right. Caught Ivan’s gaze.

“Farewell, Curtis.”

But Curt closed his eyes and laughed, catching Snee off guard long enough.

“You know, you’re wrong.”

Snee raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“They didn’t forget about anything. You did.”

Curt opened his eyes, propped himself up on his arms and stared directly into Snee’s eyes, no, soul.

“You forgot I am part of them.”

He spit at him.

It landed directly into Snee’s eyes and he stumbled back a step rubbing it off of his face. Curt felt something heavy and cold form in his hand, and he raised it up. Snee turned his eyes back on him. They widened.

He pulled the trigger.

BANG!

It was as if time had frozen once more. Two men, facing each other, the movement of the gun the only evidence that something had happened. Man and monster. Captivity and freedom. Reality and fiction.

Snee’s head snapped back. His body dropped to the ground, like a puppet cut from its strings.

Curt dropped the gun in his hand. A small puff of air escaped his mouth like a sigh of relief.

It was over.

…Maybe a bit optimistic, but for whatever reason, now that Snee was gone, it felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off of his shoulder.

……………..Actually, he was getting light in general.

He rolled over, bringing his arms under him to start getting up. Instead, he immediately fell back down. God, his body was feeling so light and weak and-

“Oh right. Blood loss.” He muttered.

He fell straight into the darkness.

———————

Originally, I was going to stop the previous chapter at the first BANG and the car scene wasn’t there. Happy I let the writing take the wheel (hehe)!

Also idk if animality scanners are canon but whatever it seems like something they’d have.

[no-thoughts-only-soup]

To Secure / Risk It All

Chapter 8

Aka Curt has another panic attack.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

———————————————

It was impossible. It had to be some sort of cruel prank. Because there was no way Chilly Panda was alive.

He wanted to believe she was. That despite all that happened, all evidence saying otherwise, that she had somehow escaped their clutches. Maybe she had somehow called upon her raptors. Maybe she had lived through it, and they hadn’t noticed. Maybe-

“Yeeeaaaaaaas!”

A chorus of cheers erupted throughout the room.

“We’re six now ya’ll!” Den cheered loudly, patting the monitor.

“There is SIX of us and 5 dozen of THEM.” Christian laughed.

Ivan rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t keep a straight face. “Damn, you couldn’t even stay dead?”

- Bitch. -

- 凸(⊙▂⊙✖ ) -

“They couldn’t even kill off Chilly.” Kristine pointed out with a giggle.

“Yeah why the hell did we go through all of that if you’re not even dead?” Christian joked, leaning in closer and tapping on the screen.

Ivan floated next up to him. “Bruh does that mean I died for fucking nothing?”

“Don’t forget Curt having an actual panic attack.” Den pointed over her shoulder at Curt.

At any other time, he would have joined in. Joined in with the laughter. Joined in with the jokes. But it felt like all energy had been sapped away from him, leaving him with just enough to keep standing.

She’s alright. They were still laughing and joking. She isn’t dead. They felt so far away. You didn’t fail her. Everything still felt so heavy.

Den shoved Christian aside. For whatever reason, the action snapped him out of his thoughts. Gathering whatever he still had left, he stepped closer. Kristine took a step aside to let him get closer, and he caught a glimpse of her face.

A smile on her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Was it a pang of guilt? Of remorse for ever helping the Foundation? Was it longing? For being more than a replacement for a lost friend? Was it a feeling of being an outsider? For not being able to understand some of the inside jokes? Or was it a mix of many things?

Curt didn’t know and he chided himself for trying to pry. Those weren’t his feelings to figure out.

“But where are you Chilly? From where are you typing this?”

“Yeah, how the hell do we get out?” Ivan asked.

That was a bit of silence. And finally typing.

- actually… -

Curt felt immense dread in his stomach.

- I’m really dead -

The air around them felt cold. Oppressive.

“Wh-“ Ivan began, but Chilly was already typing again.

- they ran a bunch of tests on me. dunno why and I don’t remember what exactly killed me, but I died. been haunting the facility since -

Curt swallow some spit into his dry throat. “Y-you… they tested you because you’re an SCP like us. To see if you could survive i-if you’re not in a scenario…”

- well clearly not :P -

He couldn’t laugh. He knew she was trying to lighten up the atmosphere, but he couldn’t bring himself to laugh.

He wasn’t alone in that. The closest was a slight, clearly forced smile on some of them.

“So,” Ivan interrupted the silence “are you a ghost like me now?”

- nah it’s different -

- it’s like -

Stop. Backspace.

- well -

Backspace.

- I’m kinda like a more cliché ghost? I can’t talk to u guys outside of this computer, I’m pretty much invisible, I dunno -

Heavy. It felt heavy. The air felt heavy.

A hand grabbed his wrist, grabbing Curt’s attention. He glanced over. Den still had her eyes on the screen, but the hand she had wrapped around his wrist said all that needed to be said. He choose not to address it, letting her keep him grounded.

It allowed him to focus. “Wait, maybe we can fix this. If you join us, maybe you’ll go back to life after we close the scenario.”

“Could work.” Ivan noted. “But we need her body too, right?”

“Chilly, you know what happened to your body?” Den asked her.

Pause.

- not really. I was drugged the fuck up for the whole thing -

No. He refused.

“Kristine,” he turned to her, “do you have any idea where it could be?”

She shifted around a bit, eyes looking in his direction but not really meeting his eyes. “No, I wasn’t allowed near the research stations…”

- curt, arent YOU the b-class? shouldn’t YOU know? -

“Do you think I would ask if I knew!?” He snapped at her, then leaned forward to type at another computer. “Come on, there’s gotta be a way to figure it out…”

The screens flicked from camera to camera, each adding to the growing pit of dread in Curt’s stomach. Every camera he checked, there were armed guards. There had to be something. Anything. They wouldn’t—

“Curt,” Den’s voice called out to him “they probably got rid of her body. I don’t wanna be a downer but—“

“They wouldn’t.” He cut her off. “Her body would be too valuable for that. T-They’d research it…”

“But that’s against the safety rules!” Kristine argued.

“Well clearly Snee doesn’t care about any damn rules!”

Come on, come on! It couldn’t be gone, it should still be there somewhere! He could still fix this, he could-

Christian grabbed his arm. “Dude, stop for a sec.”

Curt pulled his arm back.

“Oi, don’t fucking ignore me.” Christian said, grabbing Curt’s shoulder and forcefully turning him away from the computer. “Listen to me. I know you want to help Chilly, we all do! But we can’t help anyone if we get recaptured. We have to get the hell out!”

“AND LEAVE HER BEHIND!?” Curt roared at him.

Christian flinched from the sudden loud yell, and Curt took the chance to pull his arm away from his grasp. He glared at all of them.

“If we don’t get her out now we may never get that chance again! What the hell is wrong with you guys, am I the only one who fucking cares about her!?”

“Do you?” Christian snapped at him. “Or are you just trying to fix your ‘mistakes’ so you can stop feeling guilty?”

The silence was deafening. A knife wouldn’t be enough to cut through the tension. Everyone’s eyes were on Curt.

He wanted to reply. Make some snapping remark that of course he was doing this for Chilly. That of course he wasn’t doing this for some stupid sense of guilt. For making up to the fact it was his—

But the nasty part within him muted him before he could speak.

He has a point, doesn’t he?

So instead, he turned back to the computer. “…Both. And does it matter, the end result is still the sa—YEOUCH!”

An electric shock went through his hand, not strong enough to numb his arm, but still enough to sting. He shook out his hand. And then he saw Chilly typing.

- curt, leave it. it’s ok -

“Wha- No, its not ok!”

- no really. because, actually… -

There was a long pause.

- I’ve been thinking of taking a break from the group anyways -

He couldn’t breathe.

“Chilly…” Den whispered softly.

- it’s not because of you guys! I dunno how to best explain it, but it’s like, wanting to rediscover myself??? do some soulsearching??? trying to fuck around on my own and seeing what happens? if that makes sense??? -

Ivan raised an eyebrow. “You sure it’s not because of all the bullying?”

The computer vibrated with laughter.

- LMAOOOOO U COULDNT BULLY ME OUT IF YUO TRIED ಥ‿ಥ -

Den grinned and tried to nudge Ivan’s ghostly form. “We’d bully you out first.”

- absolutely (๑´• .̫ •ू`๑) -

- but fr don’t worry about me. ( ͒꒪̛ཅ꒪̛ ͒) if anything I can now go literally fucking anywhere I want and if I wanna be alive again we’ll just infiltrate this bitch -(๑☆‿ ☆#)ᕗ -

Den’s eyes sparkled. “Dude you can haunt a Starbucks.”

- KSNDBKSBSVKSJDBS SCRATCH ALL PLANS IM DOING THAT ⊹⋛⋋( ՞ਊ ՞)⋌⋚⊹ -

As Den, Ivan and Chilly laughed and teased, Curt felt like he was slipping. Everything felt like it was fading away. Their voices felt like they were melting together. The room felt like it was tilting.

No, no, no, he couldn’t fall into another attack now! They were on borrow time, at any moment the guards could barge in and—

But he was losing control. He was losing control. He was losing control. Losing control. Losing control. Control. Control. Control control control control control control control “Hey.” control control control control control control control control control control control control “hey!”

Christian moved into his vision. “Do you need to sit down for a moment?”

Curt stopped, his breath still uneven. His eyes flickered towards the others. They were still talking, but he caught the occasional glances they snuck at him. He stumbled back a little, getting some distance from the situation.

Almost without a single sound, Christian joined him, gently helping him breathe through it. Bit by bit, he pushed down the fear and panic once more.

He was definitely gonna throw up once they got out. If.

No. He steadied himself. We are going to get out. We will get out… or die trying.

And with a last deep breath, he locked eyes with Christian. The question went unspoken, but so did the answer. He stepped forward, interrupting the conversation between the others.

“It won’t be long before Snee finds us. We need a plan, stat.”

Ivan bit his lip. “We can’t get out through any of the exits. Maybe we could try a window.”

“We’d first need to get out of the panic room though.” Den pointed out. “Chilly, are there any guards heading in our direction?”

The computer was still for a moment.

- yeah, there’s a few getting close. doubt y’all are getting out without a fight -

Den crackled her knuckles upon hearing that, but Curt cut her off. “There is no way we can barge through so many. It’s too dangerous.”

“Do we have a choice though?” Ivan questioned.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Kristine suddenly shouted, raising her hand in the air like a desperate student. “If we can pretty much create whatever we want, why don’t we just make a teleporter?”

There was a silence of more than 10 seconds as everyone gaped at her.

Curt sunk to his knees, covering his face with his hands. “OH MY GOOOOOOOD!”

Everyone around him descended into hysterical laughter, Den and Christian even throwing in a “looooser!”, and even Chilly displaying a large L on the screen.

“WHY DIDNT I THINK OF THAT WHYYYYYYYYYY!”

“Ok, ok, I am holding this one against you dude.” Christian laughed.

Curt sighed deeply. “I am so fucking done y’all.

The laughter finally faded enough for Curt to stand up, sigh, and look at Kristine.

“Alright Kristine, how do you wanna do this?”

She thought, but only for a split second. “Can our teleporter be a 2004 Toyota Accord Sedan?”

It immediately prompted another round of giggles and chuckled, and even Curt felt the corners of his mouth move. “Sure, sure. Everyone, stand back a bit.”

Once everyone had made room, Curt spoke: “Alright, so Kristine summons her trusty teleporting 2004 Toyota Sedan…”

The car popped into existence, pushing all of them back even further.

“Shotgun!” Den immediately yelled, followed by Christian pouting over it. Kristine cheered and made her way over to the driver’s seat.

Curt was about to join, but then paused. No. He had to say it. He turned to Chilly instead.

“Chilly,” he began, his heart feeling as heavy as lead “I know I’m not directly responsible for what happened to you. But maybe if I had stepped up sooner, figured it out sooner, then maybe we could have escaped before your death. I’m…” his voice cracked “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t prevent this.”

There was a break in the storm of laughter. All eyes were focused on him and Chilly. Waiting for what she’d say.

And she finally typed.

- BITCH DO YOU NOT THINK I WOULDNT FUCKING HAUNT YOUR ASS IF I BLAMED YOU EVEN A LITTLE???? -

“Wh-“

- CURT FFS HOW LONG HAVE WE KNOWN EACH OTHER??? HOW LONG HAVE WE BEEN BULLYING EACH OTHER??? DO U SERIOUSLY NOT THINK I WOULDNT TAKE THIS EXCUSE???? -

“I…I…” he stuttered.

- curt, I don’t blame u for shit so stop being such a sad sack about it -

She didn’t blame him. She wasn’t mad. She could’ve been. She should have been.

But she wasn’t.

- not even I’m blaming you so stop blaming urself already dumbass -

“Chilly…”

He took a deep breath… and smiled. “Thank you.”

Curt suddenly felt something warm against his chest, wrapping itself around him. And even though he knew how stupid he’d look, he hugged back.

It was gone before he knew it, but Christian next to him shifted, grinning ear to ear as held up one crooked arm, akin to how he would sling his arm around his neck. “Girl I better hear on the news how you haunted the White House.”

“You gotta get on an episode of Ghost Hunters.” Den laughed, and then grinned as Chilly’s spirit hugged her next.

When she moved on to Ivan, Curt could finally get a glimpse of her.

She was happy.

Ivan ruffled her head, or at least that’s what he intended, complaining how he was gonna get the full buttmonkey treatment. “Now I don’t got you to divert some of it, they’re all gonna focus on me now.”

And finally, Kristine held up her hand, only a little awkwardly. From the way she beamed, Chilly gave her the high five.

“I’ll bully them in your place.” She proudly vowed.

There was a quick moment of warmth again as she quickly phased through all of them…

And she was gone.

Curt exhaled slowly. And jumped as a loud BANG sounded from the door.

“Ok we gotta get the fuck outta here.”

“Kristine take the wheel!” Den yelled as she jumped into the passenger’s seat, Christian still complaining as he got into the back.

Kristine got into the driver’s seat with a laugh, and Curt went to sit right behind her. Ivan of course couldn’t actually enter the car, but he hang onto the roof anyways.

The door broke down just as Kristine started the car. Curt flipped them off. And a second later, the car and all those inside vanished from the room, and from the facility.

——————————————————-

I was gonna end the chapter somewhere else originally, but I’ve tortured you guys with my absences enough.

Wil edit properly once I got time.

[no-thoughts-only-soup]

Been trying to sketch the nasty bastard boy. Awful guy. The stinkiest. Been trying to use cocky anime business guys as reference but god he does not deserve

[melodylyricx]

YOOOOOO THEY CHANGED THE THUMBNAIL THERE'S RC!!!!