I know it's late, and it's not proof read, but here's the first chapter of my SCP-Trigun fanfic!!! I hope you like it! This chapter is 2852 words long and I miiiight have lost my head and just started typing the story as it came to me. I personally don't think I did too bad, but I haven't written many fanfics on my own so if you have any tips or tricks to help me improve my writing style, I'm all ears!
Oh! I also ended up deciding to write in Meryl's POV. Take note that this story takes elements from 98, Trimax, and Tristamp. If you haven't seen one or the other, that's ok! I won't be spoiling too much about each but I do highly suggest checking out the ones you haven't seen yet! Especially the Trimax manga!
And if ur unfamiliar with the SCP Foundation, never fear! It's Meryl's first day too and I do intend on making this educational for the Foundation and entertaining for Trigun fans!
Wanna recommend any scp encounters for future chapters? Tell me your favorite! Bonus points if you tell me which of the Trigun crew is meeting your SCP!!!
And with that, I hope you enjoy!
That's a question I've been replaying in my mind for the past few days.
I'm not too sure what's happening, but it had something to do with an anomaly and several men in heavily armed suits with high-tech guns. I was a simple reporter and journalist, organizing my next headline for the Bernardelli News Agency. Who would've thought that just after submitting my report and preparing for bed that those strange men would appear at my doorstep?
They didn't explain much of anything and jumped straight to shooting me with what I can only assume was a tranquilizer dart.
The next thing I know I'm sitting in a white room with a clean white table separating me from this strange woman. Her thick raven hair is pulled into a messy bun and her fluffy bangs hang over her forehead. She's staring at me coldly and I can't shake how her amber eyes seem to pierce right through me…
She's dressed in what I can only describe as a lab coat and stiff office get up. She has an orange necktie tucked under her white collar, a gray pencil skirt, black heels, and an orange name tag with a strange logo on it and the name C. Hewley typed onto it.
On the table between us is a paper with my picture on it. My shorter, midnight hair is much more tame in the picture than the currently disheveled state it's in now. My name is printed in big bold letters alongside my general information;
P.O.B; December, [REDACTED]
Below that is information about my personal history. Essentially the story of my entire life all squeezed into a three page packet.
Nervous, I start to fidget with the hem of my skirt. My white tunic falls snugly to my mid thigh which is covered with indigo leggings. I have a comfortable pair of white zip up heeled boots to match. It's my typical work outfit, and actually helps me feel less out of place in this environment of clean white walls and this woman who's only colors are monochrome and shades of orange. My grayish lavender eyes do not dare look away from this woman's stare…
Eventually, she looks down at my information booklet and sighs.
“Miss Stryfe. Allow me to apologize for the sudden intrusion of your home and unwanted transportation to this facility.”
She starts calmly, but I can hear the irritation in her voice. Her accent is a clear yet strong British that almost demands respect with every hard word.
“I am Director Clarice Hewley, the site director of Site 52. You are here due to a recent interaction with an SCP. Normally we'd give you an anesthetic and force you to forget the interaction, but an 05 member vouched for you after seeing your academic accomplishments. With that said, we'd like to offer you a job.”
She pulls out another packet and slides it over to me with a pen. It's an NDA agreement as well as what seems to be a job description. From what I'm reading, I'll essentially be made a researcher of anomalous objects and my experience as a reporter will be an asset in questioning some of the creatures. This is insane…
I'm about to decline the offer when I turned the page and saw the pay and benefits. Holy crap…
Safe to say it didn't take me long to read the packet and try to better understand my situation. I signed it and Miss Hewley seemed pleased enough, so she arranged for me to begin my training.
So that's what landed me here. They let me stay in my usual outfit, but have forced me to wear a white lab coat like what Miss Hewley had on. My name tag sits on my right shoulder just as hers did. I'm standing outside Site 47, having just returned from quitting my previous job. I was told to wait here for my instructor who will be giving me a short tour of what I'll have access to and generally explaining more of my job. He should be here soon…
I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the voice of a gruff man and spun around to face him. He's a tall middle-aged man with messy brown hair and tired green eyes. A baibo-styled beard and dark mustache add to his tired uncle vibe and he's holding a small canteen in his left hand. His right hand is tucked away into the pocket of his own lab coat. Unlike Miss Hewley, his outfit is less out together and more disheveled. His light brown button up shirt is half tucked into black khakis and his orange tie is loose.
Either I'm staring at him funny or he's lost his patience, because I watch him take a swig of whatever's in his canteen and grunt.
“The name's Roberto. Are you the kid I'm supposed to be tutoring?”
I get he's my mentor, but being called a kid just strikes an irritating cord in me. I straighten up, not that it does much for my height, and stand as proudly as I can with a confident expression.
“Yes, sir. I am Meryl Stryfe, a new employee at this facility. I'm pleased to meet you, Doctor Roberto.”
I feel quite smug with this tone. I used it often when talking to authority figures back at Bernardelli, and it often helped me make it clear I was to be respected.
Roberto grunts and turns on his heel towards the facility. “Yeah, yeah. Just keep up, newbie.” He says as he walks away.
I silently glare at his back before following him inside.
We walk through some security gates and halls before entering a large room filled with computers, filing cabinets, and research equipment. Various people in lab coats are present and don't bother looking up when we enter. A purely professional environment, I see. At least compared to my mentor who looks like he just woke up with a hangover…
“This facility is more of a checkpoint for SCP transportation. You'll see all kinds coming and going, so be careful. Right now, we're holding some of the worst anomalies until they can be transported to their new containment sites. That said, be sure to keep a steady count on how many you see today. Do you know why I say that, kid?” Roberto explains as he walks up to what looks like a metal box big enough to fit an adult human.
I nod “It was mentioned in my contract. I can turn back on my decision to work here, but that option is void if I see a total of five anomalies. Right?” So glad I read the packet…
Roberto grunts in response “That's right, newbie. You can start your count with this one. Meet SCP-8153, otherwise known as Kuroneko.” He introduced before pressing a button on a side panel. A metal panel lifts, revealing a small black cat. It stirs and wakes up yawning and looking at us with its big green eyes. A cat. A black house cat. Is he serious?
Kuroneko sits up and licks its paw as I turn to Roberto with an unimpressed expression. “Um, sir? Mind telling me what's abnormal about this cat? Or is this really just a house cat and you just enjoy messing with new employees?” I ask him, very much unamused with this.
He smirks and picks up the cat by the scruff of its neck. He hands the cat to me who purrs in my arms as I hold it. “Didn't your contract tell you not to underestimate an SCP’s appearance? Kuroneko here has been alive for several centuries. We found him after a guy brought him to a vet claiming he shot the poor thing and it healed itself. The vet didn't believe him, so the guy shot the cat again to prove it and got arrested. We swooped in after the police report and contained SCP-8153.” He explains.
I guess my skepticism is painted on my face, because Roberto sighs and takes the cat from me. He sets it back into the metal capsule and pulls out a .41 caliber Derringer. I, of course, panic. Especially when he points it at the cat that just stares at him like it's used to having a gun barrel pointed at it!
“Whoa, hey! I get it! You don't have to prove it! Why are you carrying that?! I thought only the MTF were allowed to carry firearms!” I say, making a grab for the gun which he swiftly pulls out of my reach with a wheezing chuckle.
“Calm down, newbie. It's not loaded. You'll quickly find that in this line of work you can't rely on some oaf with a big gun to protect you at all times. We're supposed to protect SCPs, but we can't do that if they kill us first. Consider arming yourself in the future. But I'll admit your reaction was priceless.” He mocks me before putting the gun back in its hiding place, a specially made holster sewn into the underside of his lab coat.
I let out a relieved sigh and glare at him “that was just foul. And my name isn't newbie! It's Meryl Stryfe.” I remind him, crossing my arms as he laughs at me.
“Until I see you've grown up, you'll always be a newbie to me. A kid stuck with an old bag of drunk bones as a mentor.” He says before taking a swig as if to make a point.
I shake my head “On another note, you said this facility is a transportation checkpoint. Where is Kuroneko going?” I question, changing the subject.
Roberto grunts and looks at the cat who's gone back to sleep. “That information is above your clearance, I'm afraid. Your job here is to monitor the SCPs and ensure any new discoveries are documented and given to the team responsible for transporting them. Keep an eye on the anomalies until their designated truck arrives and give the departing team any new documents they might not already have. It's not your job to know where the anomalies are headed.”
I slowly nod and am about to ask another question when an MTF guard suddenly bursts into the room, startling the hard at work researchers. All eyes turn to the guard, including the curious eyes of Kuroneko. He's out of breath and panicked. One of the scientists seems to recognize him and grows upset “Where's your charge? Why is he not with you?!” Wow… no regard for the poor guard at all. Strait to scolding. Yikes…
The guard tried to catch his breath “We were… separated. Something's happening on a lower floor… he wanted to investigate… he told me to come here and alert Doctor Roberto!”
Roberto’s face turns serious with alarm and raises his canteen, signaling the guard. He walks over with myself in tow and places his free hand on the guard's shoulder. “Calm down, kid. What's so urgent your charge told you to get me? He never gives orders unless the situation is dire and he knows the penalties for going off on his own.” He tries to calm the guard down enough to speak like a father telling his son to take a breath and explain a new broken window.
The guard takes a deep breath before he begins “apparently a researcher got tied up with SCP-035 and has attempted to break containment. Doc wanted to go help try to save the researcher before it's too late and told me to alert you…” he says, still panicked but calm enough to speak clearly.
It's then that an alarm starts blaring, coating the white room in flashing red light. A robotic voice calls CONTAINMENT BREACH - CONTAINMENT BREACH - AN SCP HAS BROKEN CONTAINMENT - CONTAINMENT BREACH - its loud and frightens everyone present. People have begun to panic and Roberto hollars at everyone to stay calm. He turns to me, his body tense “Newbie, don't leave my side. And you,” he turns to the guard “What's your name, son?” He questions.
The guard flinches “G-Gabriel Luster, sir!”
Roberto nods “Gabe, you're with us. Your new job is to protect us until the breach is contained, do you understand?”
Roberto grunts and takes a swig from his canteen “great, just what I needed. Two kids, a missing idiot, and a containment breach. C'mon, let's get to the communications room and send out an SOS.” He orders and leads me and Gabriel down the hall. Kuroneko seems to have decided to join us too, because it's following at our heels like a normal house cat following its owner.
A couple corners later and we approach a set of double doors that are slightly ajar. Roberto pauses a few feet from it and signals to Gabriel “Stand in front and be ready for anything. That door shouldn't be open…” he instructs.
Clearly scared, Gabriel holds his large gun ready and slowly approaches the door he nudges it open and the sight nearly makes me vomit…
Looks like the communications room was compromised, because all I see are several bodies with snapped necks. I see Roberto go pale even in the flashing red lights. “Doctor…? What happened here…?” I question carefully, trying to distract myself from looking at the dead researchers and guards.
Roberto takes a deep breath “173…” he mutters in horror. I look at Gabriel who shrugs at me before finally removing his helmet. He's a man in his early 20s with a slight stubble and fluffy ginger hair. His eyes are green and his freckles dot his nose and cheeks.
Roberto groans in frustration and pinches the bridge of his nose “Great. Just great. SCP-173 is the damn statue. Think of a weeping angel from one of those games kids play today but shaped like a concrete peanut and ugly enough to make a naked mole rat look pretty. If you see it, don't blink or take your eyes off it unless you wanna end up like them.” He says, gesturing to the dead people.
Gabriel fails to hide his snicker at the crude description and I just sigh “Awesome. An SCP that kills anything with eyes.” I say sarcastically. Roberto pushes past us and steps over a dead researcher and typing on a keyboard.
“I'm sending the SOS and informing them about 173. If I remember right, 035 is two floors down from us. We need to find that idiot and evacuate while the MTF soldiers work to contain the escaped anomalies. Normally, an evacuation wouldn't be allowed. But you two are clearly inexperienced and I'm not gonna let you die so young.” Roberto clicks the send button and launches the SOS, praying it's answered soon enough. “First, let's get back to the main lab. We'll also need a weapon for this kid and we need to gather as many surviving researchers as possible. The more that survive, the better.” He instructs us, already pushing past and down the hall. Gabriel and I share a glance before rushing after him, Kuroneko bounding ahead at Roberto's heels.
When we return, I give in and turn towards a small nearby trashcan before throwing my lunch back up. The entire room which was previously filled with living researchers are now corpses with snapped necks. Gabriel and Roberto are stuff next to me and I look up and freeze at the hideous peanut SCP Roberto told us about.
I've officially seen two SCPs… and I'm certain this will be my last.
SCP-173 stands perfectly still in the center of the fresh chaos. Roberto gulps “Ok, kids… slowly back away and don't you dare blink… Gabe, when the kid and I are through the door, I want you to close it and break the lock panel to keep it locked shut. We can at least contain this bastard…” he orders the shaking guard who slowly nods.
On Roberto's cue, we all slowly back away while keeping our eyes unblinking on the statue. My eyes are begging to sting and water… I'm about to blink when Roberto says “Now!” And Gabriel shuts the door, breaking the panel to lock it. I nearly scream when loud bangs come from the other side, a sign of the SCP trying to get to us through the reinforced steel door…
I blink and rub my eyes, wiping away my frightened tears “We almost died…” I say out of horror as I try to calm my rapidly beating heart.
Gabriel nods, placing a hand over his own chest and looking like he just met death itself.
Roberto grunts and shakily pulls out a cigarette, lighting it with unsteady hands.
“Don’t complain… it was in your contract… you'll have more near death experiences until one actually kills you. Once you sign that contract and see five anomalies, you become Foundation property… that's what we all agreed to.”
