Summary: Everyone’s always looking for a cure for mortality. Everyone wants to live forever. But for Joe Schemo, immortality is a curse.
Warnings: Might include hints of self-harm and some bad language
Do you know what it feels like to be immortal? To be able to live forever, to be unable to be killed or harmed?
Fucking terrible.
Joe hated it when people say they wish they could live forever, or stay young forever. They were imbeciles and naive in his eyes. They all thought it’s fun and games, not realizing the pain and costs.
Joe had to watch people he loved being born and die. Friends...family...lovers... They all come and go. Yet, it’s not the only reason he hated his immortality.
He was invincible. Well, not to the eye, of course. He looks like a normal person. The problem was that people ignored him. He could say one thing and they’d hear something that is completely unrelated to what he said.
He was suffering. He wanted to scream, to vent, but felt like his words would fall on deaf ears. He tried to do bad things to himself in order to feel pain, but with no success. No matter how many needles he used, not even one drop of blood came out. No matter how tall an object was, no bones were broken after the fall.
One day, he was captured by some organization. “SCP” they called themselves. He was surprised that some people finally noticed him. He didn’t care about the prison they put him at.
“If they caught me, they might be able to listen to me.” he thought.
He got his hopes way too high.
They didn’t. Just like other mortals, they’ve heard things he didn’t say.
He began to despise the place. His cold lonely cell, the security guards, doctor Loyd...
That day, he discovered other abilities. He can hack every electronic device with only one thought. He could read every file the organization had, even the most restricted data they have. He could control everything in that base...
It was perfect.
They nuked the goddamn base.
Joe can remember the loud alarm, the bright red lights, the panic... then he remembers the explosion.
He remembers the feeling of floating, and when he opened his eyes he saw people he once knew- the lovers he had, the kids that used to call him their father... They were all looking at him.
“Am I finally dead?” he asked them with a hopeful smile.
All they said was one word. One painful, breaking word-
“No.”
He remembers how his smile turned into a scream as he felt like something pulls him back.
And then he woke up.
Eyes teared up as he screamed in agony. He was still alive. He was still alive after a nuclear bomb exploded. If that didn’t kill him... then what will?
He got up, scanned the area. So many dead bodies and disoriented shapes. They didn’t make it. They didn’t make it and he did, and he fucking hated it.
He knew the rest of the organization would find him alive, so he decided to start running. He just ran as far as his legs could go.
He has reached a pub in some town. Alcohol... That would possibly cheer him up a little.
“Oh, come on, dude!” he heard a voice coming from a man near the bar. “I’m at the legal age to drink!”
“You look like a twelve-year-old.” The bartender responded.
The man let out a slur in a foreign language, Joe thinks it’s Russian, and left. The man stopped when he saw Joe, or rather, the outfit he wore with the SCP symbol.
“SCP...” the man said, looking at Joe. “Thought I was the only one to escape this place.”
Joe looked at the man, surprised. The man had dirty blonde hair and ocean blue eyes, wearing Adidas outfit and a trapper hat. His skin was pale and filled with freckles.
“You’re also an SCP?” Joe asked.
“Let’s not talk about it here.” the man said. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” Joe asked.
“Somewhere these guys won’t catch us.” the man said.
Joe realized he had a point. He wore the SCP outfit and came over there a few hours after an entire SCP base got nuked. He decided to go with the man.
The two of them reached a caravan. The man pulled out his key and opened the door, inviting Joe inside.
“Welcome to my place.” the man said, taking a bottle of Vodka out of a cabin as Joe sat on the sofa. “The name’s Mr. Mad.”
Joe recognized that name from one of the files he read.
“Mr. Mad as in SCP-2428,” Joe said. “You’re a safe object, made by Dr. Wondertainment. You can cause hallucinations, or maybe you’re the hallucination yourself. ”
“Wow, I’m not even going to ask how do you know that stuff.” Mr. Mad said with a smile. “And you are...?”
“Joe. Joe Schemo.” Joe introduced himself. “Just caused the site to get nuked.”
“Heard that explosion. How did you survive?” Mr. Mad asked.
“I can’t be harmed or killed.” Joe said. “It’s a fucking nightmare.”
“Why?” Mr. Mad asked as he sat next to him.
“I mean, not only that I have to watch everyone I love die, but it’s also that people ignore me or hear things I don’t say,” Joe said. “I bet that even you heard something else right now.”
“Unless that something else than the fact that people hear things didn't say, then no.” Mr. Mad said.
“You... You can actually listen.” Joe said in shock.
“Not entirely human, my guy.” Mad responded and handed the bottle over to him. “Vodka?”
“Maybe later.” Joe said, and then returned to the conversation. “Anyways... now I ain’t got nowhere to go.”
“Well,” Mr. Mad said. “You can live here with me.”
“What?” Joe asked.
“I mean, come on, we’re both escaping the SCP,” Mad said. “We gotta help each other.”
“You really mean it?” Joe asked.
“I mean, yeah. This house is pretty much mobile so we can move whenever they get close.” Mad said. “Plus, I can get this vibe from you that you’re scared of getting close to people because they die. I’m not really a human so natural death isn’t a thing for me. And I’ve been dying for a roomie.”
Joe pulled him into a hug. He didn’t know how to thank him for his kindness and for the fact he can actually listen. He tried to fight the tears as he simply laid his head on Mad’s shoulder.
“Uh, I’m gonna take this as a sign that you’re gonna live here.” Mad said, slowly hugging him back.
