Vanessa

Get it over with.

My pace toward the building was halted by the quiet buzzing of my personal phone. There was a hint of agitation as I initially believed it to be Regan, wouldn’t put it past her to make demands seconds before a job was done. My steel nerves melted to slag as I realized the jingle was the voice of Mina. I immediately scrambled for my phone and answered, “Hey Ma.”

I heard a shuffle of movement that immediately made me roll my eyes, “Hey Lonny, are you busy right now?”

I was busy, really busy. But this could wait. My head was on a swivel as I ducked under the nearest tree in the front yard, “Nah, I can talk, what’s up?”

The click of a car door shutting sent my eyes to do an encore, “I was just letting you know I was leaving the cemetery.”

“Jesus, who died?”

“No one, it’s the only place I can visit my friends and tell them the gossip they’re missing.”

“Ma, you shouldn’t be going outside in your condition. ‘Specially not just to talk shit through six layers of dirt.”

“Well I can’t stay alone in that house forever, you know.”

“Yeah, just take it easy till your operation. What the doc say, anyway?”

“I ain’t gone yet,” she replied with the casual tone you would expect of a sentence not meant to piss me off.

“Ma, you’re on a fucking walker and you told me you weren’t sleeping. You need to go to the hospital and get checked out.”

“I’m not gonna put that kinda burden on you, son.”

A family passed by and I gave a wave as if I was meant to be there, seems they bought it, “I have very good coverage. You are on my plan, we’ve been over this.”

“Lonny… I just don’t think Lorenzo would like it.”

I scoffed, “There’s a fuckin’ surprise.”

“Lonny.”

“I know, I know, make nice… please at least tell me you aren’t seeing that one quack again.”

“Dr. Steven is a very respected member of the community, I see him at church every Sunday, you know?”

“Chiropractors are scammers, Ma. Snake oil salesmen. Promise me when that guy can’t fix it you’ll go to the doctor and use my coverage.”

“Okay son, well he’s put me on a 5 month plan.”

I mumbled under my breath, “Jesus Fuckin’ Christ.”

“But after that, I’ll go see the doctor.”

“Yeah, I think I’m just gonna break into your house and drag you there.”

We shared a laugh for a moment before all I heard was the rattle of fall trees for several seconds. She was the first to speak, “Are you coming to Thanksgiving?”

I nodded, “Yeah Ma, I’ll be there. Just gotta finish up where I am now. Then I’ll be on my way.”

“It’s next week.”

“Yeah, I know, this won’t take me longer than a day.”

“Okay son, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Love ya, Ma.”

“Love you, son.”

I hung up and pocketed my phone before turning back to the house and resuming my advance. My suit always stood out in the fall, my green jacket was like a beacon of evergreen among the falling dull reds and faded browns. It wouldn’t matter here though.

The lock gave me some trouble, but I was inside easy enough. The house was empty aside from the shuffling upstairs accompanied by the soft hum of the shower. I moved through the house silently, a ghost only remembered by the floorboards that recall a slightly different weight. Upon entering her room I made a mental guesses as to where the target might be and eventually pulled the tattered pages from the sock drawer. My second guess. With that, there was only one thing left to do. I sat on the bed, and waited.

When Vanessa did eventually leave the bathroom she was wrapped in a towel, her messily dyed hair still dripping stained droplets onto the carpeted floor. I was still. So still she didn’t even register my presence till I spoke.

“Don’t scream.”

She jumped but did as she was told, her voice was steady, “Jesus, fuck.”

“Martinez. Vanessa Martinez?”

She backed away but I was between her and the door, any escape attempt would be thwarted, “Who are you?”

“My name is Alonzo Moretti. You can call me Lonny. I represent an organization you would not know the name of, and I’ve been sent to snuff out a fracture within local reality.”

“What are you talking about,” she tried to feign confidence but her body showed she was scared. It shook and rattled like the dead leaves falling outside her window.

“On October 17th, at 1:17am you conducted a spell using these anomalous pages in hopes of winning the attention of Jessie Battles, a fellow student in your class. This spell caused a microtear with local reality, as I mentioned, and we detected this disturbance via the odd Hume levels emanating from your home. After listening in for a few days, I discovered you were the offender.”

“You… you can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

“That was just a stupid joke, I didn’t think it would work.”

“Unfortunately, it did,” I said in the neutral, formal tone that had come naturally to me over these past months, “And now, my employers will be taking possession of all copies mentioning this spell.”

She nodded to me, a bit of that fear melted away and it broke my heart to bring it back, “This includes the one in your head.”

I saw her shake as she asked how.

“Previously, we used a substance called amnestic to erase confidentiality memories.”

She nodded, “And now?”

“Now the amount of amnestics needed to preserve the veil has greatly exceeded our output, so for the bottom 25% of cases where the likelihood of discovery is negligible, my overseers have proposed a new, cheaper alternative.”

She didn’t ask what it was, her desire to know was made apparent with no words exchanged. I reached into my pocket and showed her the new method. A single .38 special. I sat it on her bed side table. I found that most targets were comforted when they got to see what I’d use. Touch it. Know it intimately before it lodged itself into their skull.

“You’re going to kill me?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Afraid?” Her voice was rising and I prepared myself to grab her mouth and silence her, “Afraid? You’re acting like this isn’t your decision! That it isn’t you with the gun!”

“Vanessa, if it isn’t me someone else will take my place. I’m just doing my job. If it were up to me-”

“What? If it were up to you how would you handle it?!”

I sighed, “Vanessa.”

“Stop saying my name.”

“Okay. I just need you to know it’s not my call.”

“Okay then who’s,” she asked, the tears in her eyes betrayed her false anger.

“You wouldn’t even know the name.”

“They’re killing me! I might as well know their name. And not just the name of their dog.”

I clinched my jaw at her words and nodded, it was wrong of me to get upset at her. She had every right to say whatever the fuck she wanted to me. And, in a way, I owed her this, “Regan Morgan.”

Vanessa nodded, “She’s your boss?”

“Everyone’s boss in one way or another.”

“And this was her idea.”

“Yeah,” I said, biting back a voice crack, “She thinks this’ll save millions that she can use to fund her projects for decades.”

“Right. And you’re just following orders.”

I didn’t respond, “Are you ready?”

She shook but her face held only rage, “Will it hurt?”

“I’ll make sure it’s instant.”

“What will my family think?”

“Your death will be ruled a suicide, barring unusual traffic, your mother will be the one to find you. An anonymous donation will help your parents cover funeral expenses.”

“Seems idiotic when the goal is to save money.”

“That isn’t from Regan.”

She spat at me, “Keep your fucking money.”

I sighed and wiped my face, “You’ve made your distaste for me clear. But we both know your parents are already thousands under. This will destroy them. I won’t help without your consent but consider what’s best for them.”

“Their daughter being alive and well would be best.”

“This is the best I can do, Vanessa!”

I regretted screaming the moment it came out. Silence hung between us a moment, then she nodded, “Fine. Get it over with.”

I got it over with.

As I walked outside my green suit stood in stark contrast with the reds and browns that fell from the autumn trees. At least now the splotches on my hands and face matched the fallen leaves.

Turned out I was wrong before, the father was the one to find her. The heartbreak that followed was… incomprehensible. Even despite a mysterious donation Vanessa’s mother soon followed in her footsteps. The father moved out of the house and into a shitty trailer park. Last I heard he was missing. Last I cared to hear, anyway.

Regan cared to hear even less. Even if I told her it wouldn’t have mattered, so, I told her the only thing that did matter, “Job’s done.”

She smiled at me across her vast desk. Regan loved this thing, thought it showed authority but I always thought she looked like a kid at the adult’s table on Thanksgiving. She never really grew into that authority her name and rank demanded, she still just looked like typical little Regan. Her office certainly grew though, I’d heard tales of an object that makes rooms bigger and I swear she’s been microdosing her office because it’s vastly different every time I visit. The one thing that stayed the same was her, that smile, “Well done, Lonny. You’ve been exceptional these past few months.”

I nodded at her, “Just doing my job.”

She giggled, “Don’t be humble, I’m trying to compliment you!” She stood, walking around her desk to get closer, “The ethics committee has tried everything to gut my program since its inception and if it wasn’t for the results, the results you have provided, we’d be left picking up the pieces. So all this success is owed to you.”

She leaned against the desk directly in front of me and smiled, “Thank you, Lonny. I’m glad I can rely on you.”

I nodded, my chest tightening a bit at her words. Regan tilted her head, “What’s your next assignment?”

“I umm… I was actually taking some time off to visit my mother for Thanksgiving.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t know you celebrated. Italians I mean.”

I chuckled, “They’re Americans now. Besides, they’ll take any excuse to eat and gossip.”

“So I’ve heard,” there was a silence as she stared at her shoes a moment, “well damn.”

“What?”

“No,” she chuckled, moving back to the other side of her desk, “it’s nothing, you should go be with your family.”

“At least tell me what it is.”

“Just a little situation brewing in the south but don’t worry, it won’t be difficult for me to replace you.”

I felt my mouth move on its own and before I knew it I had a folder at my side and my phone to my ear, “Yeah, Ma? I don’t think imma make it to Thanksgiving.”

Item#: 9570

Level3

Containment Class:

keter

Secondary Class:

none

Disruption Class:

keneq

Risk Class:

critical

link to memo

Special Containment Procedures: Due to their unavoidable re-emergence, the most consistent containment strategy is the organized termination of any SCP-9570 instance immediately upon discovery. After a period of 2 years following the successful termination of SCP-9570, the search for newly formed instances should begin (See Addendum 9570-A for patterns within instance behaviors)

Description: SCP-9570 is the designation given to a group of 5 meta-humans that embody broad concepts in baseline reality (see Addendum 9570-A for specific concepts). They are often considered minor deities and evidence suggests they may have existed, in some capacity, since the beginning of mankind. It is believed their existence is directly tied to a fundamental link within the collective human consciousness. This often has changes the instances themselves when humanity’s collective understanding of a concept changes. Theories suggested by Senior Researcher Regan Morgan suggest that SCP-9570 are the concepts themselves, able to exist in the physical world and Noosphere simultaneously. She believes this is why SCP-9570 instances cannot be killed in a traditional sense.

Upon termination, an SCP-9570 instance enters a 24–30 month hibernation period, after which a new iteration manifests. The process in which they re-emerge is still widely unknown. It’s important to note that different iterations of the same 9570 individual are not identical. They can be similar to their past selves, however they have limited memory of events prior to their rebirth. That being said, there are certain patterns in behavior and appearance that persist between instances. These patterns are what agents follow to find and eliminate rebirthed instances of SCP-9570.

While the personalities of SCP-9570-1 through 5 can vary between instances, the individual concepts stay the same. It is unknown why these specific deities choose to regroup after every rebirth, the main theory is that they were once partners in a pantheon and that remaining mental thread still unconsciously pulls them together. Regardless of how, it’s clear each instance is drawn to the others and where you find one, you will find five.

Addendum 9570-A: The following are documents that keep a detailed record of reoccurring behaviors found between past 9570 instances. Alongside these patterns are notes on the best way to approach terminating each instance. It’s advised personnel attempt to eliminate them individually as together they can cause extreme casualties and damage to the veil. It is also advised to have no less than 5 armed personnel when approaching 9570 instances. Any less is suicide.

Pyre

SCP-9570-1 is often male in appearance with ethnicities generally associated with Southern Asia. Across all recorded instances, 9570-1 has proven to be one of the weaker meta-humans, only truly stronger than SCP-9570-5. The main cause is likely a decrease of ‘fire’ in the collective human conscious. While certainly weakened, 9570-1 is still extremely dangerous and agents should rely on ambush methods to corner and eliminate the subject. The following are patterns 9570-1 exhibits upon resurrection:

Patterns:

• SCP-9570-1 displays a fondness for cooking, baking, and other culinary arts. Former iterations have appeared in the food service industry. With one notable instance being a contestant on the television program Master Chef.
• SCP-9570-1 has consistently shown an apathy towards physical fitness. This, compounded by his love for food, has led most iterations to have a build that could be described as ‘pudgy’.
• As mentioned before, SCP-9570-1 consistently appears as a man of South Asian descent.
• SCP-9570 has a fondness of community, often joining various clubs and organizations. Any film or writing group would likely appeal to 9570-1
• Despite being massively resistant to its effects, SCP-9570-1 has a serious alcohol problem. Some longer lasting instances often also experiment with narcotics.
• Of all instances, SCP-9570-1 is the most likely to reveal itself due to its temper. It often burns down the homes of people who upset it. These are often rude customers.
• Instances of SCP-9570-1 have a mid to long range fighting style. Able to conjure fire at will and increase the temperature of its hands making it a dangerous opponent. Agents attempting to approach should maintain a middle distance that allows them to out space 9570-1’s reach while still being close enough to avoid incoming fire before it blooms into a fireball.
• Decapitation is the most effective way to force SCP-9570-1 into a rebirth state.

Get it over with.

As I approached, the bar reeked of charred meat and peanuts. The peanuts I understood but I found it interesting that I smelled meat before liquor. This wasn’t a half grill half bar. This was the kinda place you went to get wasted after all your other friends went home. Definitely not an establishment you’d expect food to be ordered. The half lit neon sign flickered in the night air, one of the few things to pierce the fog that had descended on the small town of Nacogdoches. As the last car of the night pulled onto the highway in a manner that alluded to a future DUI, I stepped inside.

The bartender’s eyes flicked up from a worn paperback just long enough to roll before he turned back and screamed, “We got one more!”

I had to push my pinkie into my ear after that shrill voice but otherwise I made it to the bar unscorched, a nice change of pace from our last meeting 2 years ago. My hand absently moved to my neck where I felt the uneven smoothness of burn scars. Made me remind myself to be on guard.

From the kitchen came a pudgy man with his receding hairline hidden beneath a grease stained visor, “Hey man, I hate to do this to ya but we were just closing up. If you wanna grab a free drink that’s fine but we can’t serve you alcohol.”

I smiled as I sat at the bar, “I didn’t come for alcohol.”

“Good,” he laughed.

“I was honestly really wanting a steak.”

“Goddamn it,” I heard him whisper under his breath, “Yeah, that’s gonna be a similar story to the alcohol, man. We close in like five minutes, I can’t…” he stopped mid sentence the moment he got a good look at me, “Don’t I know you?”

“Oh yeah,” I replied, thinking on my feet, “I was here a week ago. Had a steak.”

The bartender didn’t even look up from his book to respond, “And you came back?”

Cook took off his visor and tossed it at the guy’s face, “Get out of here already, I ain’t got the labor to keep you on the clock. Shoo!”

With a sigh the bartender stood from his counter lean and walked through the kitchen door, never peeking up from the pages. That left me and Pyre alone in a quiet bar that swam with second hand smoke.

“Look, I know you wanted some food and I’m glad you liked the steak but I gotta get home. I made a promise to meet up with a friend early tomorrow and-”

As he spoke, I slowly reached into my coat, retrieved my handgun and placed it gently onto the bar. His words died as soon as he saw the black steel resting on his weathered counter. For a moment he showed confusion and hurt before understanding crossed his face. His eyes raised from the gun to my face, “Lonny.”

I nodded, “Hey Pyre. What’s it been? Two years?”

He produced a fake chuckle, “Ha, funny… how’d you find me?”

“You burned down a lady’s house a little over a week ago.”

He shrugged at the response, something told me he already knew and just wanted the opportunity to complain about the lady, “She was a bitch anyway. Asked for a well done steak and then complained when it came out dry. Do it again in a heartbeat, to be honest.”

I smiled at a distant memory, “Well these resets seem to have mellowed you out. I knew a time you’d have scorched a guy for thinking about ordering a steak well done.”

“Don’t tempt me. Culinary sin, that.”

There was a silence between us for a while. I saw his hands form into fists before emitting a glow. The edges of his sleeves browned and charred as smoke rose from the greasy flame. Normally, this would be where I attacked. Draw my weapon and put a bullet through his brain before he could turn me to ash. However, as my knuckles popped under the pressure of my own clenched fist, I saw her. Vanessa stood outside her bathroom door, her dyed hair dripping and eyes filled with malice.

“Medium rare,” I said on instinct.

His glare broke when a single eyebrow lifted, “What?”

“I told you, I wanted a steak. Medium rare is how I like them.”

For the second time there was a long silence between us, only this was different. The tension of a coming battle was dissipated and replaced by an air of confusion. This time it was Pyre who spoke first, “Are you fucking with me?”

“Look, this is our 3rd cycle meeting. Each time you’ve been some type of cook. I’ve never actually gotten to taste what you make. Just let me try a steak and we can go from there.”

Pyre’s clenched fists fell into open palms but that raised eyebrow never budged, “How do you know I won’t bathe it in bleach or something?”

“I’ll watch.”

And so I did. The two of us stood over a cool grill as Pyre slowly cooked a beautiful steak under his open palm. He complemented my choice of steak, he also preferred medium rare. I took a moment to look over the kitchen where he had decorated it with his own little touches of personality. Atop the frier stood an army of Mikus perched like gargoyles. I nodded at them as I passed, “Nice decor.”

He looked back and laughed, “That was Innie, she’s been getting me into all that anime crap.”

I saw more evidence of this when I discovered a stack of manga volumes on his work desk. Seemed he was halfway through “The Guy She Was Interested In Wasn't a Guy At All.” On the corkboard, above the desk, was a picture of Pyre and a young Asian woman in alternative clothing. Seemed they were at a club of some kind. Both were smiling.

“Influence lives in town too?”

He stopped speaking.

“You know I’ll find her regardless?”

“Yeah,” he said, “I won’t be the one to blame though. Never hear the end of it. What happened to your arm?”

My eyes drifted from the picture and to the bulky cast that clung to my left hand. I smiled, “Cut myself shaving.”

Pyre nodded, “Lonny… why are you doing this?”

“It’s my job.”

“No, I mean why do you have me making you a steak? You didn’t do this the last few iterations. You said that yourself.”

I nodded and searched my mind for the answer. It had to be there, right? Did I really want a steak? No, I wasn’t necessarily hungry. Didn’t really like steak either. So why’d I ask…

“You know we’re both here on Thanksgiving?” I said, surprising us both, “I don’t know if you celebrate, but it was always one of my favorite holidays. Spent every Thanksgiving over at my grandparents with the rest of our extended family. You should’ve seen it, at least sixty people, all bickering Italians, packed into that two bedroom house.”

“You’re Italian?”

“Half. My daddy was black but my Ma’s Italian. They never got married so my holidays were spent either with my dad’s family or my Ma’s. She got Thanksgiving, dad got Christmas.”

“Which was better,” Pyre asked, flipping the steak with a charred pair of tongs.

“They both had their problems. Never forget the food at my Ma’s though. God, those people could cook. She taught me a little but… here let me…” I grabbed a bowl before scavenging the kitchen for ingredients. Pyre made no objection as the kitchen grew rich with the smell of steaming spices and flavored smoke. When we were both done, we sat at the bar and put a plate in front of one another. Pyre poured both of us a whiskey, told me it enhanced the steak’s flavor. He took a sip of his own whiskey as he sat in front of the Pizzoccheri I had whipped up for him.

We both took in a healthy whiff before Pyre turned to me, “You first.”

I nodded, the meat bled when my knife pierced its charred hide, inside was a pink interior that just barely burned red at the center. I saw the moisture inside pour free as my fork pierced the free sliver and brought it to my mouth. Before my teeth bit down I let the juice wash over my tongue. Then I bit on the tender flesh, chewed and swallowed.

I nodded, “Fuck.”

Pyre laughed as I nodded my head and joined him, “Telling me I could’ve gotten a meal like this three times by now?”

“What can I say,” Pyre took another sip of his whiskey as he watched me take another bite.

“Honestly, I expected this shit to be burnt. You’re Pyre after all.”

He nodded, “Yeah, times change man. When I was young, fire was a weapon. I burned cities and men in droves, but now… fire’s a tool. It’s controlled and balanced. Think in humanity realizing that I balanced out too.”

“Could you cook this good back then,” I asked with my mouth full.

“Fuck no,” we both laughed as he continued, “I don’t remember much but I know I had servents.”

I took a sip of my whiskey and nodded, “This does add to it.”

Pyre picked up his fork and turned to the plate I’d made, “My turn.”

“Oh lord.”

He gathered a small knot of pasta and slid the clump into his mouth with his lips, “Oh. Oh wow. That’s terrible actually.”

We shared another laugh as we ate our respective plates, “Yeah I didn’t have all the ingredients in there. None of the family really liked Ma’s Pizzoccheri either but it was all I ate.”

“Why?”

I thought back for a moment, my eyes watching the blood leak from my steak, “My Ma’s family never liked me. Looked too much like my dad for their liking. In that house full of sixty bickering people I was always the one they couldn’t make room for. Slept on that cold floor and when it was time for dinner we had an order to eat in. Men went first, then kids, women, then me. By the time I got my plate the only thing left was usually a single scoot of Ma’s Pizzoccheri. They made it known I was lucky to get even that. Fuckers meant it as an insult but they were right. Fucking love her Pizzoccheri. Hope she saved that last scoop for me tonight.”

Silence hung between us a third time. Once again, Pyre broke it.

“This doesn’t change anything, does it?”

I closed my eyes and shook my head.

“Well, if you win, do me a favor? Tell the next iteration I was a better cook.”

I pressed down firmly on my cast, finished my whiskey, and opened my eyes.

“Well,” Pyre said, “Let’s get this over with.”

In less than a second his palm was leveled with my temple and a pillar of flame engulfed my head. By the time the burning stopped, not even bone remained and my charred body slumped over into plate.

Pyre stared down at what remained of me in confusion. That eyebrow raising once again.

You Died!

Continue?

Finished my whiskey, and opened my eyes.

“Well,” Pyre said, “Let’s get this over with.”

I dropped from my stool, taking the glass with me. The orange tongues scorched my neck as I began my swing. Before Pyre even realized I had dodged the glass had buried itself deep in his left eye. The bellowing flame ceased as Pyre fell from his stool, barely managing to stay on his feet.

“You fuck!”

Most iterations of Pyre are left handed meaning I had a massive advantage as long as I stayed in his blind spot. By the time he gathered himself and pulled that cracked shot glass from his eye my gun was already pressed to his left temple.

By the time I fired, Pyre’s hand had already redirected the barrel away from his body. The bullet whizzed past, shattering the bar’s mirror. I moved to escape his grip just as his hand super heated the metal and ignited the powder in its bullets. The gun burst like a grenade sending shrapnel through my face and jugular. As I fell, Pyre nursed his shattered eye, cursing the whole time.

You Died!

Continue?

Instances of SCP-9570-1 have a mid to long range fighting style. Able to conjure fire at will and increase the temperature of its hands make it a dangerous opponent. Agents attempting to approach should maintain a middle distance that allows them to out space 9570-1’s reach while still being close enough to avoid incoming fire before it blooms into a fireball.

Finished my whiskey, and opened my eyes.

“Well,” Pyre said, “Let’s get this over with.”

I dropped from my stool, taking the glass with me. The orange tongues scorched my neck as I began my swing. Before Pyre even realized I had dodged the glass had buried itself deep in his left eye. The bellowing flame ceased as Pyre fell from his stool, barely managing to stay on his feet.

“You fuck!”

Most iterations of Pyre are left handed meaning I had a massive advantage as long as I stayed in his blind spot. By the time he gathered himself and pulled that cracked shot glass from his eye I was a safe distance to his left, firing shots into his body.

The first shot was the closest to his brain, bullet tore through his lower jaw before shattering the mirror over the bar. The next two were affected by recoil, entering his lungs and liver.

He fell against the bar and I cursed, sprinting to get a closer shot. Pyre heard me coming and threw himself off the counter, swinging with his right hand and summoning a stream of flame. It came fast, I couldn’t dodge. I could only lift my casted hand against the flame. The fire spread from the point of impact spilling past my palm like water around a stone. The cast burned away revealing SCP-7680 beneath, unscathed by the onslaught of fire.

Unfortunately, the flames stopped me from seeing the second swing from Pyre’s left which delivered another piercing flame, this one through my heart.

You Died!

Continue?

Finished my whiskey, and opened my eyes.

“Well,” Pyre said.

“Let’s get this over with,” I finished.

I dropped from my stool, taking the glass with me. The heat scorched against my neck as I began my swing, before Pyre even realized I had dodged the glass had buried itself deep in his left eye. The bellowing flame ceased as Pyre fell from his stool but managed to stay on his feet.

“You fuck!”

Most iterations of Pyre are left handed meaning I had a massive advantage as long as I stayed in his blind spot. By the time he gathered himself and pulled that cracked shot glass from his eye I was a safe distance to his left, firing shots into his body.

The first shot was the closest to his brain, bullet tore through his lower jaw before shattering the mirror over the bar. The next two were affected by recoil, entering his lungs and liver.

He fell against the bar and I cursed, sprinting to get a closer shot. Pyre heard me coming and threw himself off the counter, swinging with his right hand and summoning a stream of flame. It came fast, I couldn’t dodge. I could only lift my casted hand against the flame. The fire spread from the point of impact spilling past my palm like water around a stone. The cast burned away revealing SCP-7680 beneath, unscathed by the onslaught of fire.

I shifted under his left arm as he swung again, lifting my pistol up to his chin and pulling the trigger.

The top of Pyre’s head split like a melon before his body crumbled beneath its own weight. He twitched and shivered as he fought to control his malfunctioning body. It’s hard to kill a god. Even in this state he’d be back to perfect health in just a few hours. Bullet in a head isn’t permanent, just jumbles the electrical signals in their brains enough to make the next part easy.

From my coat, I retrieved a sharpened hand axe and got it over with.

The following are messages exchanged between SCP-9570 instances following 9570-1’s termination. These messages were recovered by Special Agent Alonzo Moretti via 9570-1’s acquired cell phone:

Innie

Yesterday at 8:28 PM

Ur gonna be at the show P?

P

Yesterday at 8:30 PM

Depends how crazy tonight is but if I'm conscious I'll be there

Innie

Yesterday at 8:30 PM

Yippie \(^o^)/

Apathy

Today at 3:24 AM

Ps dead
Lonny

Pine

Today at 3:24 AM

what the fuck?

Apathy

Today at 3:25 AM

Found the body
Heads gone
Still warm

Ambition

Today at 3:25 AM

Goddamn it.

Innie

Today at 3:25 AM

You saw Lonny?
Are you sure?

Apathy

Today at 3:26 AM

Big guy
Green coat
Ps head
Who else

Pine

Today at 3:26 AM

how did he find us?

Ambition

Today at 3:26 AM

P burned that ladies house down last week.
Can’t say that helped our anonymity.

Pine

Today at 3:26 AM

they really tracked us down from just that?

Apathy

Today at 3:26 AM

Not us

Innie

Today at 3:26 AM

What?

Ambition

Today at 3:27 AM

They found P. Not us. We’ve been more careful.
That brute always flies off the handle and now we have Lonny sniffing around.
Maybe we can keep our heads down.

Innie

Today at 3:27 AM

Oh you can fuck right off with taht shit

Pine

Today at 3:28 AM

take a breath.

Innie

Today at 3:28 AM

How about you take a dick, Pine? We just got fuckibg back and asshole has already killed one of us
Sent P back to that fucking hell
I’m not going back. Not again

Ambition

Today at 3:30 AM

That’s why we should stay quiet.

Innie

Today at 3:30 AM

Yeah, hide like Ap and wait for Lonny to show up with those dead eyes and a hacksaw

Ambition

Today at 3:31 AM

I understand. P was our friend too. But we have to think about ourselves.

Pine

Today at 3:32 AM

no one wants to go back there, innie. but what are we meant to do?

Innie

Today at 3:32 AM

Fucking kill him

Pine

Today at 3:32 AM

innie

Innie

Today at 3:32 AM

What? Why not? I remember when we could mow down a hundred jailors, a thousand. We’re fucking gods.

Apathy

Today at 3:33 AM

Youll lose

Innie

Today at 3:33 AM

Stfu bitch

Ambition

Today at 3:34 AM

He’s not wrong, Innie.
Last time we all fought side by side and he still won.

Innie

Today at 3:34 AM

So we should just lay down and take it? Don’t you miss that throne, Ambition?

Pine

Today at 3:36 AM

we live longer when we don’t make noise.

Innie

Today at 3:36 AM

Well ur free to stay in the forest and suck on tree bark. And ambition you can keep coddling ap but the truth is you are not on that throne anymore and I’m not your fucking subordinate. P was MY friend. I’m not going to be a fucking coward. I’m going to my show tomorrow and I pray to myself that psycho fuck shows up.

Ambition

Today at 3:37 AM

We’re not coming to bail you out.

Innie

Today at 3:37 AM

Don’t need you

Apathy

Today at 3:37 AM

Youll lose

I watched my empty inbox silently as crowds roared around me. After the silence that followed the gunfire and cracking of Pyre’s bone, I was drawn to sound. Luckily, this shitty small town was hosting a Thanksgiving parade around the city square. The mayor, a young woman for her position, sat atop the historic courthouse and announced the various floats that trampled by. She had a magnetic presence, a bolo tie wearing country politician who spoke with just the right amount of twang.

As for the floats, most of them were nothing to speak on, just a few local construction and plumbing businesses. The grinch managed to make an appearance one month early on the back of the local fire truck covered in Christmas lights, also one month early. One interesting feature was that the Budweiser horses were there. Beautiful bulls of horses that clicked their hooves across the ancient bricks of this old Texas street. The locals cheered and goggled at what was likely the greatest wonder most had even seen. A collection of massive horses dragging a cart of beer. I myself had seen glories far beyond this. Living gods cloaked in light who beat their hearts with songs that broke minds. However, I wasn’t above the electricity these beasts caused.

I found myself thinking about whether the horses knew they were famous. Did they know what Budweiser was? I found it believable the horse keepers gave them a healthy can in their troths every other night. Did they even like it though? I didn’t.

My eyes drifted back to the phone. I should have called Regan by now to tell her the job’s done. However, my thumb decided to click the number for my mother instead. I brought the phone to my ear as the crowd began to disappear.

“Hey Ma.”

I heard her smile through the receiver, “Lonny! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. You make it to Texas okay?”

“Yeah. I’m here now. Job’s going smooth, should have it finished in time to visit for Christmas.”

“You have to be at your dad’s for Christmas, son.”

I gripped the bridge of my nose, “You know he don’t want me there, Ma.”

“He’s your dad, Lonny.”

“I just wanna be with you, okay?”

She was silent for a few minutes, “Well that’s your decision. I just worry what Lorenzo will say.”

“Yeah. I don’t really give a fuck about Lorenzo, Ma.”

“I know son, it’s just I don’t want to make a scene and,” she sighed, “you look so much like your father.”

I bit my lip, “I know… Hey, did you make Pizzoccheri this year?”

“Oh, I’m getting too old to make much of anything anymore.”

“Well, get ready cus when I come down imma be in the kitchen and you’ll be telling me what to do.”

I heard that smile again as she laughed “Well okay, you be careful down there. Love you son.”

“Love you, Ma.”

I hung up the phone and smiled to myself. A few seconds later I noticed a young boy staring at me as I sat on the steps of the courthouse, “Sir… is that blood on your neck?”

My smile fell as I stood and walked away, “Don’t worry, it’s not mine.”

Influence

SCP-9570-2 has displayed a variety of vastly different appearances throughout rebirth cycles. That being said, all personalities show a preference to female bodies with almost all male instances receiving some form of gender affirming care. 9570-2 has shown the most varied traits upon rebirth and is often the second most difficult instance to track. Very little stays the same through rebirths and what is known may change entirely in the future.

Patterns:

• As mentioned above, SCP-9570-2 has a preference for the feminine form.
• SCP-9570-2 is often the most hostile of the 9570 instances. This, however, does not make it the most dangerous. 9570-2 is the second strongest, trumped only by SCP-9570-4 but its brash nature makes it rush into conflicts without planning.
• SCP-9570-2’s permanent trait is an innate ability to influence others to conduct its will. It can use this ability in many ways from political propaganda to radical cultist movements. Some subjects are immune to this ability for reasons that are currently unknown.
• While specifics are difficult to track between instances, SCP-9570-2 often takes interest in “nerd culture”.
• Decapitation is the most effective way to force SCP-9570-2 into a rebirth state.

Get it over with.

This place was different from the bar I’d visited the night before. Pyre’s spot was… quiet. There was a reverence in that air. To reason with the jobs I relied on Regan to assure me we were doing the right thing. Sometimes that even failed, and I’d envision myself as a pallbearer, treat my jobs as a funeral march. But here? The air was abuzz with cracking, crunchy music and bright beams of neon light. People screamed in cheer and euphoria. Where yesterday I had smelt charred meat, today was only alcohol. I couldn’t feign dignity in that place. I had never been to a club before, but if the constant screaming and half naked strangers were anything to go by I’d like to never visit again.

I grunted at the scene before me and made my way to the entrance, pushing past the line of sweaty partygoers. Some exclaimed as I shoved through, none of the college kids (however ignorant they might be) dared objected upon actually seeing that ogre of a man. Before long I was at the front of the line, a trail of silence left in my wake. I stood face to face to what had to be the smallest bouncer I’d ever seen. He was short and thin with long brown hair that did all but hide his face as his eyes scanned the lines of a weathered paperback. He was small enough for his hair to nearly swallow him whole.

“Hello, I’d like to enter.”

The bouncer looked up from his book and inspected my green coat with feigned interest, “You sure you’re in the right place, pop?”

I held up a flier showing a young Japanese girl screaming while holding a bass guitar, “Here to see Innie. She’s playing tonight, correct?”

“Yep.”

“So can I come in?”

“Look dude, you’re like fifty and we’ve already got more guys inside than we need. Not to be rude but you won’t exactly be dragging any new ones in.”

“Okay, I’m going to walk inside and you feel free to stop me.”

“Alright, enjoy the show.”

I walked through the door and into a sea of jumping, thrusting bodies. The interior was akin to the veins of a living being, red dripping cells pulsed in rhythm with the heartbeat of the song. I took a deep breath and dived in.

When I was young I ran away from my dad’s in hopes I’d find my mom. When things got too heated with dad, she’d tell me she was, “just right upriver.” So, in my young idiot mind, I thought I could walk upriver and see her sitting on the bank with a smile on her face, waving me to come inside. The hike was a lot less fairy tale esc when I actually had to walk there. The sides were overgrown so I pushed through the chest high brown water most of the way. That sensation, forcing against that weight of movement, motion taking will over your body, that’s how that crowd felt. It tossed me in circles as I shoved my way through to the stage. There was no doubt I was the strongest person in that building, but once it comes to more than five people strength stopped mattering and you became subjected to magnitude. However, unlike in my youth, I was not overcome by the river and made it to the stage.

According to the flier, Innie was the next set and if I had any hope of getting out of here without complications, I’d have to get to her before. You’d think I’d have trouble actually getting backstage, but I’ve learned if you look confident enough you can get just about anywhere. Behind the scenes was a different aura. There was constant movement, sure but this was organized. Like dozens of drones in a kicked bee hive. One stray drone saw me and pointed, “What do you need?”

“Innie, I got a message from her manager,” I lied.

She nodded, “Got it, I’ll see if I can catch her before she goes up.”

The drone took off and I silently followed, my uncasted hand reaching into the green coat and gripping the wood grain of my handgun. Innie was never much of a fighter, as long as I shot first I’d win. The only scary part were all these people. The fear wasn’t that they would interfere, most people run after the first shot, the fear would be Innie taking them. If you don’t take her out fast each person is a weapon. Even if it was quick though, this amount of witnesses was scary. I’d already gotten some hang ups from local law enforcement for the sin of them not recognizing me. It was going to be a pain.

The drone knocked on the green room door and cracked it open, “Innie, a message from your manager.”

I moved the drone aside as my weapon was pulled free, with it in hand I reached for my cast and pressed the save button just as the door swung open and a bright flash froze me in place. Not out of fear. Not out of surprise. When I say frozen I mean literally no part of my body could move. A law had been placed upon me. My muscles all flexed at once and kept me tied to that exact position, my fingers on the save button on SCP-7680.

“My manager’s dead, asshole.”

I couldn’t move my eyes to look at her, but from my limited view, I could see she had taken a picture of me with her phone. As usual she had a new, unseen lot of abilities and unexpected problems. I was lucky to have saved just before that photo was taken.

Innie stepped close, put an arm over my shoulder and took a selfie with her tongue out as the drone began to panic, “He’s got a fucking gun! Security!”

The room began to scream and scatter but Innie kept her cool, typing away on her phone as she sang to herself, “Gold teeth sitting’ on the dash, she a rockstar. Make your favorite singer wanna rap, baby, la, la.”

She turned to me again and smiled, “I’m glad you came.”

Innie gently placed her platform Doc against my chest and whispered, “Enjoy the show. It’s gonna be a fucking gap!”

In a single kick I felt the collective strength of all my attempted movements manifest into kinetic energy that tossed my body backwards. I only realized I was flying when I registered the blur of the crowd underneath me. This realization came a single second before my back made contact with the bar. I laid alongside the bartender who rightfully ran. A few patrons showed concern though, looking over the bar to investigate my condition. That is until Innie’s voice boomed over the speakers.

“Buddy of mine told me to hide out tonight, but I ain’t ever ducked a fade in my life! Who’s ready for a fucking show!”

Cheers outweighed the voices of concern as I pulled myself up and stared at Innie from across the crowd. She smiled at me as she held her phone in one hand and the mic in the other, “This song goes out to my former manager. Hope you’re watching P!”

An overhead projector kicked on, blasting a distorted image across the stage. The selfie of me and Innie. I’ve had better pictures, Innie looked great though. Her outfit was a white button up with sleeves that hung down to drag the ground. Around her neck was a thin black tie that matched her pitch black wolf cut. My face looked old in comparison, frozen in an unflattering expression and showing just how grey my hair was getting. The caption simply read, “Kill this guy!”

I watched the entire club freeze and turn their heads to me. A sigh escaped my lips.

“Ready!” Innie screamed to her brainwashed band.

I cracked my neck.

“One!”

I slammed my cast into the broken glass left by my fall, coating it in jagged shards.

“Two!”

I pull back the hammer on my handgun.

“One, two, three, four!”

I push against the river.

You Died!

Continue?

I won’t lie, I got some good hits in. Not on Innie. I didn’t even get fucking near that bitch. The crowd tore me apart before she even hit the chorus of her song. When I respawned I came face to face with my newest problem.

My save was placed exactly two seconds before Innie snapped that picture. At that point, I’m practically locked into fighting the whole fucking bar.

You Died!

Continue?

I tried to avoid that picture as best I could. First I tried running.

You Died!

Continue?

Tried grabbing her before the flash.

You Died!

Continue?

Even tried opening my mouth to speak.

You Died!

Continue?

No matter what, I ended up behind that bar and facing down a mob. Over one hundred innocent people, forced to violence by that manic freak strutting on stage. At no point did the pity I felt for them dissipate. Even as I experienced them rip my arms from their sockets and beat me with them.

It’s not them. It’s her. Innie who was making me intimately familiar with all the ways a human could be torn apart. I get the feeling she’s got a scatter brained. You see, a normal person affected by 7680 would just kill me the same way each time.

But Innie.

You Died!

Continue?

You Died!

Continue?

You Died!

Continue?

You Died!

Continue?

You Died!

Continue?

You Died!

Continue?

You Died!

Continue?

Each death was a different experience. She’d repeatedly tell the others to drag my broken body on stage, but to finish me off she kept it fresh. I felt the sting of fire and the ice of blades. Bit concrete curbs that split my head and swallowed buckets of broken glass that ribboned my esophagus. Each time she whispered in my ear as I died, “This is for P.”

I never understood their desire to avenge their friends who would be completely fine in two years time. Regardless, she seems pissed and no amount of words were going to convince her that killing P wasn’t actually that deep. Especially since I was here to kill her too. Just doing a shit job at it.

That being said, I wasn’t giving it my all. The army of innocent faces between me and Innie made my fists slow and my finger feel resistance against the trigger. These people, not a single one over 25, none of them deserved my worst. None of them had sinned so far that the only solution was to paint the walls with their insides. Then again, neither had Vanessa.

You get philosophical after death 30. I took a few cycles considering my predicament. These people didn’t deserve what I could offer but I could rationalize that it was for the greater good. I was just about to get serious when I asked myself an even more damaging question: Did Innie deserve it?

The gods never really do anything, save Pyre’s occasional arson. Innie though? She had a good thing it seemed. Innie had really done nothing wrong at the end of the day. Made a life out of playing a rockstar in a college town. The only reason she was acting out now was due to my actions. Was what I was doing right? Why was I even considering the morality of it now of all times.

My mind traveled back. Back to the very beginning of Regan’s amnestic cutback project. I’d spent just over a year with the Foundation at that point and this mission was so different. I’d fought incomprehensible gods capable of leveling cities. I went from that, to a young man passed out on his couch. He didn’t even fight, just begged for me not to kill him. Of course, his words did not stay my hand, yet they did shake my heart. I came to Regan with tears in my eyes. Told her I didn’t understand why I had to do it.

“It sucks,” I remember her saying to me, “The job requires us to do awful things to keep the big picture a pleasant one. You understand that, I know you do. Your time in the military-”

“That was different. There I knew the big picture. I could see how my actions were justified. But I don’t see that here.”

She nodded and placed a hand on my shoulder, “Lonny, you are my greatest soldier. You’ve done more than a dozen MTF outfits combined and I am eternally grateful.”

I remember how my heart warmed to her words.

“If we’re going to make this project work, I need you to stay focused, free of apprehension. So let’s make a promise. You trust me, right?”

I nodded.

“Good. Promise to do your job, and I promise to carry the burden of knowledge for you. I will never ask of you something that isn’t required to keep the peace. You be my sword, I’ll be your conscience. That sound good?”

I nodded.

The memory of 9570’s mission briefing came back to me as I stared down the river, “Ambition is a high priority Lonny. Do whatever it takes to contain her and her friends. But bring 9570-4’s remains to me. Trust me.”

I nodded.

My body hurtled the bar before the crowd could even react, the first of the attackers fell after I sent a bullet through his head. Killing them was muscle memory at this point, I barely considered them threats. My feet hit the sticky floor just as the crowd descended upon me.

I acted fast, two bullets to my right, both meant for the men who consistently reached me first. The next was at my left and too close to get a bead on. Instead, I’d started swinging my cast across his throat, opening it to spew blood across the bar.

Here’s where I always lost control, there were more people than bullets in my gun. I couldn’t kill them all before becoming a victim of magnitude. So, I needed to delay them. The best I came up with was a solid kick to the closest person. On an ideal attempt, his momentum would slow the onslaught enough for me to catch up. This wasn’t one of the ideal attempts and I had to stop myself from eating my barrel and resetting right there.

An attacker dodged the falling man, just managing to tackle me against the bar. It caught me off guard, but I was back the moment our bodies fell still. My cast arm found a nearby bottle and slammed it against the attacker, freeing me. Another from the left received the same treatment. Then another on my right. It wasn’t till the fourth swing that the bottle shattered and I changed my tactics to stabs instead of swings. Wounds weren’t enough, these people were acting on something primal Innie was exploiting. The only thing that would stop them was a slash deep and vital enough for them to understand this was it, they would die. Eyes were good. Throats were better. Even then some would fight on in which case they’d receive a bullet.

My advance was impressive but by no means was it done unscathed. At various points I’d suffer unavoidable damage, and used most of them as tells for what to do when. The punch to my left temple meant to throw an elbow behind me. The stab to my shoulder meant I needed to fire at the security guard advancing with his own firearm. All the while Innie sang away on stage, dancing as the crowd whittled me down. I was nearing a break in the assault. Previously, I had used this to catch my breath but just now I decided on a different solution.

As the crowd pulled back to strategize I took my opportunity. In a second, I raised my arm to the stage and fired mid chorus. The bullet was off target, blasting her ear to bits instead of her brain. She stumbled and cursed into the mic, “JUST KILL HIM ALREADY!”

The river’s current returned in full force, but the water wasn’t nearly as deep. My gun’s bullets ran dry leaving me to use it as a club. Skulls cracked. Blood spilled. Screams tore throats. The music was gone but Innie stayed on stage, watching me with hate filled eyes.

“I always wondered what kind of man could do this,” she called over the mic, “What kind of person could kill us over and over. He had to have been a god too, right?”

My broken bottle ripped through a cheek, exposing bloody bared teeth.

“Yet every time I’m so surprised by just how human you actually are.”

My pistol broke open a cranium.

“I’m starting to see it now, though. You aren’t human, at all?”

The shattered glass on my knuckles pierce eyes.

“I can influence others. Not control them. I could never put a chain on someone else’s pet.”

The last body fell. My breath was deep and heavy. My skin was gilded in blood. I stepped toward the stage.

“I always wondered why you never killed yourself when I asked, dog.”

My feet stopped, “What?”

“You think I couldn’t compel someone to kill themselves? My only limitation is that I cannot control someone who has already dedicated body and soul to something else. You’re a Foundation blood whore, there’s not a soul left for me to influence.”

I stared up at her, wondering what I should say. Should I say anything? Should I just kill her? She continued before I could decide.

“Something is different about you this time.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve told you all this before. Only you didn’t hesitate then like you are now. You just put a bullet in my head and said ‘job’s done’.”

My eyes stayed glued to her, “Well I’m out of bullets this time.”

This actually made a laugh escape, “Wow, you’re funny. Never actually heard your voice before, devil.”

“Shut up.”

“Or what, you’ll put me down either way.”

My brain hurt thinking back. I could see Innie’s mouth moving as she held up her hands in fear. I could see the gashes open beneath the axe. I could see her stare forward with glass eyes.

I couldn’t hear her voice.

“It doesn’t matter,” she lifted her phone to take a photo. And that’s when my heart dropped. I couldn’t run. I couldn’t hide. I couldn’t close the distance. She had me. All that work and she just needed to snap a picture. I closed my eyes.

Unfortunately, instead of a flash I felt a stabbing pain at the base of my neck. One of the living patrons jumped from the pool they were drowning in and attacked. The edge of jagged glass met my neck just as the camera shutter snapped shut.

I fell. Blood gushing around the weapon still in my throat. The patron stood above, frozen in place. I, however, writhed and whimpered in pain. I writhed. I moved.

Bingo.

My words gurgled out as I slit my own throat and smiled, “I win.”

You Died!

Continue?

My jacket was free and tossed forward just as the door swung open and flash swallowed the dark stage. The jacket froze but I was free. I couldn’t waste this opportunity. I pushed it aside and tackled Innie into the green room. My gun was still in my jacket, I would have to bust my knuckles in hopes of breaking her brain. My fist met her hard in the temple, felt her eye socket crack from the force. She didn’t take it lying down, her own fist met my jaw with the force of a truck. Barely conscious, I spat what that punch bought into her open eyes. Blood and shattered teeth blinded her before she could push me off.

Neither of us moved immediately, the drones behind us were the same. In shock by the sudden burst of violence. I needed to end this before they gathered their senses. Innie was crawling for the phone. I scrambled like a hound to meet her, grabbing her head and smashing it onto the tile floor. She knocked my legs from under me and we slid like worms, pushing, scratching and biting one another as we fought for the phone. I gave it my all but she was the stronger of us. The moment she got a good grip I was tossed back to the door, leaving her free to win the race.

Innie gripped the iPhone with bloody fingers as a wheezing laugh left her busted lips, “I win.”

When she turned around, I was on my feet again, my jacket over my shoulder and my gun aimed forward.

I pulled the trigger.

The bullet ripped through the camera lense and painted the floor with Innie’s brains. This broke the drones from their trance, but instead of attacking they scattered, screaming and cursing as they made their way to the nearest exit. I paid them no mind as I retrieved my axe and got it over with.

Ambition

Yesterday at 11:30PM

Are you coming or what?

Ambition

Today at 12:27AM

Ap and I have been here almost an hour, where are you?

Pine

Today at 12:27AM

there are cops all over innie’s show.
fuck i think she’s dead.

Ambition

Today at 12:27AM

What are you doing there?

Pine

Today at 12:28AM

what do you think? she’s a piece of shit but she’s one of us.

Apathy

Today at 12:28AM

Do you see her

Pine

Today at 12:27AM

no.
but i heard an officer mentioned a headless female.

Apathy

Today at 12:28AM

Thats her

Ambition

Today at 12:28AM

Can’t say I didn’t warn her.

Pine

Today at 12:31AM

what the fuck, ambition. apathy i get, he’s himself, but what is your excuse?

Ambition

Today at 12:32AM

No, see I’m done making excuses. For her and P. They brought this to our doorstep. They made their beds. They can rot in them.

Pine

Today at 12:32AM

her friend just died.

Ambition

Today at 12:32AM

We were her friends too.

Pine

Today at 12:33AM

sure didn’t act like it.
lonny knows the rest of us are here.
he’ll find us.

Ambition

Today at 12:34AM

Pine, don’t do anything stupid.
I have a plan.

Pine

Today at 12:34AM

oh yeah? was inne dying a part of it?

Pine

Today at 12:46AM

you fucking bitch.

Ambition

Today at 12:46AM

Calm down.

Pine

Today at 12:46AM

i will not calm down. This is the throne all over again.

Ambition

Today at 12:46AM

God, you assholes are so quick to bring that up. It was 100 years ago!

Pine

Today at 12:47AM

what about the Void? i was ready to give you the benefit of the doubt then, but now?

Ambition

Today at 12:48AM

You’re talking about things you don’t understand.

Pine

Today at 12:48AM

then tell me right now you did not plan innie’s death.

Ambition

Today at 12:52Am

Pine, I’m done playing games. We are at war and I have the ace in the hole to end it all. I order you to stop what you’re doing and come here now.

Pine

Today at 12:55AM

go to hell.
she was right, you really do miss it.

Ambition

Today at 12:55AM

Don’t go after Lonny.

Pine

Today at 12:56AM

im not. he’s just the pawn. i’d be like killing innie. nah, imma aim for the one on the throne.

Apathy

Today at 12:56AM

Youll lose

Pine

Today at 12:57AM

i don’t doubt it, but dying there beat staying alive with her. save yourself, ap.

Ambition

Today at 12:58AM

Do not speak to him like that. You wanna act virtuous when you’ve hidden in your woods every time Lonny came knocking. You’re a fucking coward, Pine.

Pine

Today at 12:59AM

yeah, i’ll make up for my old man’s sins today. hbu? feel like righting your past wrongs?

Pine

Today at 1:12AM

didn’t think so.
come with me, ap. you don’t need her.

Apathy

Today at 3:29AM

Youll lose

For the second time this week I stood in darkness before the neon sign of a late night bar. It was different for sure. The patrons from this bar wouldn’t go anywhere near P’s place. Pyre’s place. The building shined as if buffed with shoe polish. The glass was so transparent I could swear it wasn’t there, if not for my reflection.

I stared at the thing before me. A mountain of a man with dark skin stained black and blue from Innie’s stray punch. My body was outfitted with that same dirty green corduroy coat that I’d worn when I killed Pyre, Innie, and countless others. The only thing distancing me from that Lonny was the thin black tie that dangled from my neck. Inside the bar I saw Regan staring at a menu from behind her dark brown bangs. I took a breath and stepped inside.

“I’ll have mine well done,” Regan told the waiter, “for sides just get me double potatoes and brown gravy.”

The waiter, a short man with long brown hair, turned to me. In his back pocket I saw a well worn paperback, “And for you?”

“Just water,” I replied.

“Come on,” Regan said with a smile, “Get you something, my treat.”

I sighed, “You guys got lasagna?”

“Yeah.”

“How is it?”

“Bad.”

“Fuck. Fine. Bring it.”

The waiter nodded and walked away leaving me with Regan who smiled big, her bangs cut a perfect straight line across her shadowed eyes. Regan always said she cut them herself, I had my doubts. She opened the conversation, “You get it done.”

I kicked the leather bag at my feet over to her, “Innie’s in there.”

“Innie? Oh, ha, Influence. That’s cute. Just her?”

I nodded.

“Moving kinda slower than usual. I’d have expected you to have Ambition by now. Everything okay?”

I had stopped listening, staring down at the table which seemed to tilt toward me a bit. It wiggled when I tested the sturdiness with my knee.

“Lonny.”

I snapped back, “Huh?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Regan’s smile hadn’t wavered but her eyes now hid behind her bangs, “When was your last psyche evaluation?”

“No. I’m fine. Really, it’s just,” I stopped, my eyes returning to the table, “I think I might be losing trust.”

“Trust?”

“Innie, P, Vanessa, they all-”

“Vanessa?”

“One of the low risk microtears.”

“Oh, is that what this is about? Lonny, anyone can do that,” she started only for me to cut her off.

“I’m losing trust that we, the Foundation, are doing the right thing.”

The waiter appeared with our food, “Okay, one steak, and one lasagna. You wanna try that steak to make sure it’s up to your satisfaction.”

Regan didn’t comply at first, just stared forward behind her bangs, when she eventually did listen, her knife sloppily ripped through flesh and her teeth bit it free, “A bit dry. Let’s just make it medium rare. I’ll pay for it again if that’s required.”

“You got it.”

The waiter left us to our silent tension. I felt the need to shatter it, “Regan, I just feel like I’m going through a lot and I need a little reassurance.”

“I can’t help you.”

“Regan please, just-”

“I cannot help you. What you want isn’t reassurance, it's justification and in this job you need to let that go.”

“You… you told me you’d only give me jobs that are required to keep the world safe.”

“Grow up, Lonny! This world is always a microtear away from eating itself. Everything that poses even the smallest threat to normalcy needs to be snuffed out. It’s my job to identify those threats and it’s your job to follow orders. Fail to do so and I’ll find someone who can.”

“Jesus, Regan. What the fuck have to had me doing?”

“What is necessary. You think I like this? Sending my kill dog out to euthanize kids who fucked around with the wrong online spell?”

“Then why don’t we just amnesticize them?”

“Were it so easy. I’m building a better tomorrow and to do that I have to cut corners, amnestics don’t just spawn out of nowhere. You think when they just build a new site they hand wave the millions of dollars it takes to contain a single entity. No, and my projects require more. So, so, much more. You don’t want to know the bodies I’ve buried to keep the gears turning. I am not blind to our sins, but what we do puts us beyond sin and virtue. We are saving the world.”

I scoffed, “Yeah, it’s easy for me to see that while I’m killing young girls on nothing but orders.”

Regan’s new steak arrived, she began cutting, “Oh it’s just so hard for you. Poor little Lonny, doesn’t understand why we make the tough calls. Trust me, you do not want to be in my position. The knowledge of just how close we come to annihilation every week, every day, every hour. Right now there are three separate outer gods hurtling towards earth and those aren’t even high priorities. I have to know all of them. Each way that we can be wiped in the blink of an eye. It’s my job to prepare countermeasures. That requires good soldiers. Good soldier that follow orders.”

My eyes went down again. My lasagna looked fucking awful, just as advertised. Regan sighed. “Look. You’re my best agent, Lonny. I couldn’t have gone half this far without you. You are like no other person in the Foundation. I need you.”

I felt warmth in my chest. I nodded.

“Good, now let’s eat.”

“How long till we get to that tomorrow?”

“What?”

“You said we’re building to a better tomorrow. How long until we get there?”

She thought for a moment before answering, “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On how quickly you bring me Ambition’s head.”

We ate in relative silence following that. After we finished Regan paid for the meal and I walked her through the dark parking lot to her car. She smiled at me as she opened the door, “I hope this hasn’t damaged our friendship, Lonny. You know how much I care for you?”

She placed her hand against my cheek and I leaned into her touch. My heart hammered, “I know.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

With that, she got in her car and drove away. I wasn’t far behind, walking to my green pickup in the corner of the parking lot and crawling inside. It was just as my key entered the ignition that I felt the point of something sharp against my neck.

“Don’t move, don’t look back, don’t even fucking blink.”

I froze solid. My bare hands gripped the steering wheel. The feeling of dread washed over me as I realized 7680 was in my glovebox. I ached to reach but knew the moment I did my throat would be opened.

Whoever was behind me gestured to Regan’s car as it pulled forward onto the dark road, “Follow her.”

I wasn’t in a position to negotiate, so I put the truck into drive and started tailing Regan, “Which one are you?”

“You’re favorite.”

“I already killed P.”

The passenger laughed, “Ouch. I thought we were something special, Lonny,” he pressed his prickly lips against my ear, “It’s me,

Pine

SCP-9570-3 is the most similar between all instances. Always male, elderly, and Caucasian in appearance. Past iterations have been described as small in both height and mass. Task Force operatives have taken to calling it the “mountain man” due to its appearance and hobbies. 9570-3 is a solitary soul, more comfortable deep in the forests than around other people. It will often only come into town to meet with other SCP-9570 instances, although most commute to the woods to accommodate it.

Patterns:

• As stated above, SCP-9570-3 is always a small elderly male.
• SCP-9570-3 has consistently shown some control over vegetation. Specifically evergreen trees. The extent of this control has shifted significantly over various cycles.
• SCP-9570-3’s home is normally a makeshift survival shelter composed of intertwined living trees.
• SCP-9570-3 has an affinity for creating moonshine. Task Force members who have “sampled” his product have reported it was some of the best they’ve ever had. Additionally, the smoke created by his distillery acts as an easy indicator of his location.
• SCP-9570-3 is an amateur survivalist. Its home is often surrounded by tripwires and boobytraps.
• SCP-9570-3 is a hermit. It will not leave its home when it realizes Foundation agents are in the area.
• Decapitation is the most effective way to force SCP-9570-3 into a rebirth state.

Get it over with.

“What’s it been,” Pine whispered, “Two years.”

I followed behind Regan, the point of his tool constantly present against the back of my neck, “Hardy har.”

“Thought you’d like that one. Oh, by the way, not that I think you will, but I placed a contingency under your seat. If you stand up, you’ll be blown to bits.”

I gave a dry laugh, “Not just me. Foundation MTF vehicles usually carry an explosive or two just in case. If that goes off, they’ll take both of us. You’re not durable enough to survive that.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, “but only of us’ll be back in two years.”

I nodded, feeling the weight of life and death beneath my seat, “This a bit outta your wheelhouse, eh, Pine? I expected you to be holed up in the middle of the woods somewhere.”

“Yeah, lotta good that’s done me these past few cycles,” he said dryly.

“I don't know,” my eyes drifted to the rear view where I saw a pitch darkness behind me. No street lamps, no incoming cars. It might as well have been a void back there, “Out of all of you guys, you were always the biggest headache.”

No light revealed him, but when I pressed the break, his head was haloed in a deep red glow, there I saw his mangled, unshaply form. A form that almost seemed to move of its own-

“Watch the road!”

I immediately swerved back into my lane, following close behind Regan, Pine laughed from the back seat, “Old man gave you a hard time?”

“Old man?”

“You never talked this much from what I remember,” Pine said with an audible smile.

I shrugged, “Softening in my old age.”

“I saw what you did to Innie, I highly doubt that’s the case.”

Sweat poured down my face as my left hand twitched anxiously. I didn’t have the glove. If this went wrong he’d be able to put me down for good.

“I don’t plan on killing you, if that’s what you're scared of, Lonny.”

“That’s nice of you. Wish you'd shown me the same kindness two years ago,” I said, the lengthy scars down my back aching at the memory.

He sighed, “that wasn’t me, Lonny. That was-”

“Your old man?”

“Yep,” Pine chuckled, “now you're getting it.”

“Never realized y’all were descendants of the previous generations.”

“We all got differing views on how it works,” Pine started, “P and Innie seem to believe they’re exactly who they were 100 years ago. Ambition always says we actually possess living people and take their personality. Apathy might actually be the same person from 100 years ago, and I think of my past version as a father.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, they leave a big impression on you, but you only get glimpse of their full life,” Pine chuckled, “And still, that’s enough to fuck you up.”

This actually made me laugh with him, “Yeah… that’s the truth, right?”

“You see, my father would have wanted to kill you. It’s a son’s nature to defy his father with good old fashioned new age beliefs,” there was a crunch before he spoke with a full mouth, “I happen to believe you aren’t that much different than us, Lonny.”

“Are you eating?”

“Oh, yeah, hope you don’t mind. Want some?”

“Nah, just had lasagna.”

“How was it?”

“Miserable.”

Pine chuckled at my words before crunching in another bite, “Where was I?”

“We’re not so different, you and I.”

“Oh, right. So we’re not so different, you and I. Me and the others never chose our names. We were born slaves to humanity’s relationship with our titles. There’s a reason we’re always slightly similar to our previous iterations. However, I think you might be just like us.”

“A god?”

“A slave to your nature. You’re like us, you didn’t choose to crave violence, it was a part of you. You were meant to be Regan’s dog.”

I shook my head, “Predestination isn’t really my thing. Catholicism be damned. And if that’s true, what are you a slave to? The others I understood but Pine?”

“Yeah, I’m the baby out of the group,” he admitted, “and yet I’ve gone through more changes than most. There was a time I represented vigor and toughness. Now though? Humanity is scared of where they came from. I’ve changed a lot these past few cycles. Every time I wake up I feel it. The anxiety when a lonely driver sees a strange shadow on a dark road. The creaking call of oblivion from the forest. That’s what I’m becoming. A part of me is scared of what I’ll be when my personality changes. Right now it’s just my appearance. You wouldn’t even recognize me.”

“Well, for what it’s worth I think it’s a personality I’d be scared of losing too.”

“Thank you, Lonny. See, this is exactly why I didn’t kill you!”

“So how’s this gonna end anyway.”

“Oh, right! So, I’m going to have you follow Regan, and when we get to her place, I’ll hop out. Try to follow me and: boom. Once I’ve killed her, I’ll disarm the bomb and we can go our separate ways. You’ll be free and the rest of us can go back to how things were.”

My heartbeat cranked up to 11 instantly, Regan was in danger. I needed to save her. Needed to stop him. Okay, how? What were my options? I could try to jump out of the car. No, shifting my weight could be enough to make it explode. I could go for my weapon. And what? Fight him with a pick in my neck? I needed to think.

The truck’s speakers blasted my ringtone making both me and Pine jump. The middle console showed the contact name: Regan Morgan.

I felt the tip of his weapon dig deeper into my flesh, “Answer it. Say anything to tip her off and you’ll be warning her through bloody gurgles.”

My head nodded with as little movement as possible to avoid the tool digging deeper. I cleared my throat and pressed the answer button, “Hey Rae.”

Her reaction to the nickname was an immediate “Ew,” before telling me to never call her that again. Pine slapped me upside the head and whispered, “act naturally, dumbass.”

“What’s up,” I asked in a voice I couldn’t help but be a few octaves higher than normal.

“Oh, just wondering.”

“About?”

“About why you’re following me home?”

I remember chuckling despite the obvious tension, “Oh I just had something with the case I forgot to share with you.”

“Okay, feel free.”

“Well it's best if I show you.”

There was a several second pause before she replied, “Whatever you say.”

“Okay, see you at your place.”

“Hey Lonny?”

“Yeah.”

Another long pause, “I don’t feel great about how we left things off. I wanted you to know I appreciate everything you do for me.”

I smiled. As she spoke I could almost forget about Pine holding a point to the back of my neck. Her voice was warm and flooded my body with sunglow. I swallowed every word like an addict, “This is very important to me. I need you to be strong. You matter very much to me, son.”

My ears choked on that sentence, “What?”

“I said you matter very much to me, Lonny.”

“That’s not-”

“I’ll see you at the cabin, okay?”

The call ended and my eyes stayed glued to her tail lights. Pine whispered behind me, “Think she bought it?”

“At the end. What did you hear?”

“What?”

“What did she call me?”

He paused for several seconds, “What did you hear?”

“She… called me Lonny, right?”

He chuckled, “That’s interesting.”

I needed an out. A way to get out of this seat instantly. When I saw headlights over the hill in the distance I knew my wish was granted. Just needed to keep him busy long enough so that he didn’t suspect. How could I do that?

“You know, I think there’s some truth to what you said,” I rattled off without thinking.

I heard his smile, “Telling you man, slaves to our nature.”

“Not that. What you said about fathers.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah… When I was a kid my dad was a mean son of a bitch. I was the product of an affair between him and my mom when she was 17. Ma’s a good woman but she was in no position to take care of me.”

Words were spilling out faster than I could stop them. I didn’t understand why I was saying all this and didn’t know why I couldn’t stop. The distant headlights ducked under a coming hill, I kept talking.

“Lived with my dad my whole childhood. Fucker beat me senseless every chance he got. Same with his wife. Anytime they looked at me they just saw his biggest mistake. I was a rotten afterthought behind his real sons. When they ate I watched. Making wishes about which scraps I’d get. When they’d play with toys I’d watch. Wondering when they’d lie to dad that I stole a ball so he could knock my teeth out. When they’d watch TV I’d listen from the closet they locked me in. Picturing the shows with nothing to go on but sounds.”

My truck began to tilt on an incline.

“Only time I wasn’t a mistake to him was my first day in middle school. Kid on the playground saw me making a sandcastle and thought it’d be funny to kick it over. I’d lived with violence so long I thought what I did was normal. He wronged me, so I took a plastic trowel and sliced open his right eye. Kid never got sight back. When the teachers cornered me and I was brought to the principal I knew I was in trouble but wasn’t sure on why. Regardless, I knew dad would beat me senseless when they called him. Thought he would at least.”

We neared the top of the hill. I saw the glow of nearing headlights kiss the pines.

“But he didn’t. After the teachers told him what happened he took me home, poured me a glass of Hennessy, and told me he was proud I was a real man. Think since then, when I carve someone open, put a bullet in a brain, I get a warm feeling. Maybe I was born to this. Maybe it’s just in my nature.”

I felt the point in my neck fall away.

The oncoming vehicle crested the hill and I swerved to meet it head on. What happened next was all too fast for me to remember clearly. I remember the sound. It was the crunch of iron bones before I felt ice against my skull. I remember seeing stars. Flying. And then fire. By the time I hit the ground, both cars were engulfed in flames. Not that I was focused on that. My only concern was the crippling agony stretching through my body as I rolled into a ditch along a quiet Nacogdoches road. Took me a while to breathe. Even longer to move. Something I do remember was my first thought when I pulled myself from that ditch and saw Regan’s vehicle idling a few yards away. The thought didn’t appear immediately, only popped in when the wheels rolled forward and her car vanished over the hill.

I thought it, and wept.

“Lonny!”

My attention was called back to the burning wreckage as my back seat door opened and out walked a pillar of living fire. This was the first good look I got of Pine and it was much different than his other appearances. A mass of shifting, animated pine needles soaked in flame walked the faded asphalt, each step dropping bits on itself onto the cracking stone.

I tried to will my body to move. Needed to find the glove, a weapon, anything. He was almost on me, I needed to get up. Get up.

I didn’t move.

Pine crumbled to ash two yards before reaching me and from that waste rolled a single pinecone.

I’ll spare you how long it took for me to move and how many failed attempts it took before it happened. However, eventually I was able to pull myself up and pick up the pinecone. On a hunch, I grabbed a few pine needles from the ditch and dropped them into my hand with the cone. They animated, forming a rudimentary mouth and sighing, “goddamn it.”

“I won’t lie to you, this was the best attempt one of you guys has made. If you had committed, I’d be dead.”

“I know,” Pine said, “Just not in my nature, I suppose.”

Silence sat between us for the last time, the crackling of fire atop the wreck filled the space, “Do me a favor,” Pine said, “If you end up seeing my son, tell him not to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

I nodded, “I can do that.”

“That story,” Pine asked, “Was that true? Or were you just talking out of your ass?”

“All fake. My father’s a kind man. Treated me right my whole life,” I said, my walls returning “I’m as tied to this as a clerk is to a register.”

Pine laughed, “Well… was good seeing you Lonny. Do me a favor?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t give me to that witch, Regan. Let me die in the fire.”

I got it over with.

Ambition

Today at 6:04AM

Ap, you there?

Ambition

Today at 6:25AM

Hello?

Ambition

Today at 7:00AM

Ap, I see you're online, you might as well talk to me.

Ambition

Today at 7:11AM

Goddamn it, say something

Ambition

Today at 7:25AM

I know you're mad, but they'll come back, I promise.

Apathy

Today at 7:26AM

They won't be the same

Ambition

Today at 7:26AM

I know, but this assures we'll never need to go back again.
I miss them too.
But, please. I'm working for a better tomorrow.

Ambition

Today at 7:39AM

Ap?

Ambition

Today at 8:00AM

Fine. I'm going to end this. I'll pick you up after.
Hey, I love you.
See you soon.

Apathy

Today at 8:00AM

You know I heard it

Ambition

Today at 8:02AM

Yeah. I know.

Apathy

Today at 8:02AM

Why
Anyone of them would have killed for you

Ambition

Today at 8:02AM

Then was it too much to have them die for me?

Ambition

Today at 8:05AM

I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.

Apathy

Today at 8:06AM

You dont have to lie

Ambition

Today at 8:10AM

They were happy, Ap. Happy to live like this. We're like pigs waiting for old man fuck face to throw out buckets of shit to swallow. They wouldn't have understood what I had to do. The Shade-Soaked King promised a second age of gods. What was I meant to say to that?

Apathy

Today at 8:11AM

I was happy
Lonny gonna find me next

Ambition

Today at 8:11AM

I would never do that to you.

Apathy

Today at 8:12AM

What makes me special

Ambition

Today at 8:12AM

You know.

Apathy

Today at 8:12AM

I can never be that for you

Ambition

Today at 8:13AM

I know.
Can you fault a girl for having ambition?

Apathy

Today at 9:09AM

Youll lose

Before I really knew what I was doing, I was walking up the dirt road to Regan’s Airbnb which glowed orange in the deep east Texas night. 7680 hung from my left hand as I stepped forward, unscathed from the roaring flames. No part of me remembered grabbing it, but I do recall choosing not to look in the poor car I’d crashed into to escape Pine. I only questioned what I was doing when I stepped onto Regan’s front porch.

I thought of the answer and tried the door.

It was locked but a solid kick eased it open, leaving a hole in the wall where the knob had found the stopper lacking. She wasn’t in the living room, wasn’t in the bedroom, wasn’t in the kitchen, that left only one real place she could be. So, bloody and covered in ash I stepped into the bathroom where Regan jumped at the sight of me. Nearly standing out of her tub before realizing its bubbles were the only thing keeping her decent, “Jesus Lonny, can’t you knock?”

“Where were you,” I asked, saving my place with SCP-7680.

“What are you talking about,” she asked with a roll of her dark eyes.

“You saw me crash. You saw my car go up in flames. You saw me get launched out of that goddamn windshield. I didn’t have the glove! I could have fucking died, 7680 wasn’t on, Pine had a fucking bomb in that car!”

She shook her head, “What did you want me to do? I’m not an agent, Lonny. Couldn’t hurt a fly if I wanted to.”

“I’d expect you to give a fuck, check on me? Call me a single time? Instead you come home and get in a fucking bubble bath.”

She looked at me and pouted her lip, “Oh I’m sorry Lonny, I’m sorry that you didn’t feel like you were oh so very special to me in that moment.”

“This is sick,” I ripped free 7680 and slammed it on the side of her tub, “I’m done, I quit.”

This time she actually laughed in my face before immediately covering her mouth, “I’m sorry, I just can’t keep a straight face for it anymore. I mean God, try it after how many times I have to go through this with you.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“We’re really doing this now? Oh well, okay, here we go,” Regan cleared her throat and looked up at the ceiling to recite something she’d said several times before, “Where did you last contain SCP-9570?”

“What?”

“This is your third time containing them. Two years ago, when you last did so, where was it?”

I stopped talking, I didn’t want to. I had so much I still wanted to say, so much venom in my chest I had yet to spit free. However, I couldn’t. I was dumbfounded because I honestly couldn’t recall. I remember fighting them. I remember killing them. I remembered bringing them to Regan. But the details, everything surrounding it was just… fog.

“How about your last 3 birthdays,” Regan asked, “Your mom’s injury? Your dad’s stroke? The annual Foundation mixer? Tell me anything about any of them.”

I couldn’t, “What…”

“This happens occasionally,” Regan said, shifting in her bubbles a bit, only her nose and above bobbing out of the fluff, “You’ve always been neglectful of your mental health. Skip out on a psyche evaluation here and there, these conversations would be solved but no, no, no. Lonny doesn’t need his pills. Lonny knows better.”

I leaned against the sink and held my head as she continued, “I lie to you a lot, Lonny. But the one thing that’s always been true is that you're my best soldier. When I saw your work in the field I was astonished. Four dozen dead MTF units left in the wake of a false god and one man was able to put it in a box. I knew I had to have you. Make you mine. This was after acquiring 7680 and I knew if I gave a man like you infinite lives we could move the world, and we did.”

Her dark eyes looked into the past longingly, “We contained the uncontainable. Put Legion in a cell. You would do anything, die a million times as long as I told you that you were a good boy. Then you had to ruin it.”

I think I’m losing faith.

“I think I’m losing faith. Can’t sleep with what I’ve seen. There’s nothing for me besides this, but if I keep going I’ll end up swallowing a bullet. Please Regan, please make the pain go away,” she smiled as she lifted her foot from the bubbles, using her toes to pull the hot water on, “And so, I saw an opportunity. Foundation agents using amnestics for mental health is far from unheard of. But, what I needed to do for you was far more than just erasing a few bad memories. I needed to pluck free your apprehensions, your guilt, your responsibilities, your worries. Ring you out so that all that remained was that need for approval, the warm fuzzies you get when I call you my good boy.”

My breath was heavy, my vision blurred.

“Of course, this took far more amnestics than anything ever attempted. Got to the point it was cutting a sizable chunk in my branch’s yearly supply. If I asked for an extension or ran dry there’d be an investigation. However, if I were to simply… expunge a few low risks that nobody would miss, who would know? The world would keep spinning. You’d keep doing what you do best. And that 25% of the amnestics can help you sleep better at night. The Ethics Committee would be none the wiser.”

I vomited into the sink, Vanessa hung over me with angry eyes, her soggy hair dripped dyed water onto my head, “Fuck… Fuck!”

Regan continued bathing herself, “Where’s Pine, by the way.”

“You sick fuck,” I screamed, turning to her, “How many people? Jesus, fuck! You told me-”

“That I’d keep the burden of memory for you. The truth is, since this has started, you and I have locked up over twenty anomalies previously thought uncontainable. You do the job of a hundred men every day. You’ve saved millions of lives and if that’s cost a few nobodies who cares?”

“The Ethics Committee… I’ll go to them. I have my memories, I can tell them everything! You’ll be ruined! Fucking crucified.”

She finally looked at me, “Lonny, nothing’s changed. I didn’t make you into this, I amplified what was already there. If you did that, left this behind, you’d still have nothing. Nobody and no one. We’ve had this conversation countless times and it always ends the same way. The truth is, you’re happy being mine. So, when you leave here, you’ll visit the nearest site’s psychiatric ward, get your personalized dose of amnestics, and come back to me. You always do.”

My heart hammered. My hands shook. My eyes filled with tears. I saw Regan smile.

Next thing I knew, I was walking the dark highway as the first rays of dawn shined over Texas.

Ambition

For lack of a better term, SCP-9570-4 is the “leader” of the 9570 gang (although their interpersonal relationships are more complicated than simple hierarchy, final say on command defaults to them). As the strongest metahuman who also embodies the concept most present in humanity’s subconscious, SCP-9570-4 is the most dangerous of all instances. Its abilities vary, but all seem to rely on perception in some way, often able to twist what should be a straightforward ability into something that works because she believes it should. One previous instance was able to erase any individual they viewed as beneath them (both literally and metaphorically). Its gender and appearance vary wildly as well, but all instances are generally tall, none standing under six feet. It’s best to capture other SCP-9570 instances to draw 9570-4 into a trap, rather than attack it openly. Engaging SCP-9570-4 directly is suicide.

• SCP-9570-4 instances are all generally tall, none falling below six feet.
• SCP-9570-4 enjoys inhabiting positions of authority in their career. This has included high ranking police officials, company CEOs, and even political leaders.
• SCP-9570-4 has a closer bond with SCP-9570-5 than any other of the 9570 instances. When other instances were questioned on their connection, contradictory claims were made. Some said they were siblings while others insisted they are lovers.
• If given the chance, SCP-9570-4 will sell out other instances in exchange for power. This does not apply to SCP-9570-5.
• SCP-9570-4 will cause mass destruction if their life is threatened in a populated area.
• Decapitation is the most effective way to force SCP-9570-4 into a rebirth state.

Get it over with.

When I stepped into my dim hotel room it was like I was cutting through a fog that had previously blinded me. This room was littered with trash and filth I had neglected to clean in favor of sitting at the edge of my bed and staring at my cork board. It wasn’t as intricate as the ones you’d seen in the movies, just simple headshots of my targets with tips to watch out for and where I could find them. Save for 9570-5 which simply held a big question mark. As usual.

Didn’t matter, I could come back to this with my head clear. Regan was right, what we were doing was for the greater good. I was happy with how things were. What did it matter if she was lying? If it was all for show? I was happy. That’s all that mattered.

I started grabbing my clothes and stuffing them into my bag as fast as I could. Handfuls of trash and dirty laundry stuffed haphazardly as I tried to force the image out of my mind. Her face as she looked up at me from that bath. The… what was it? Pity? Disgust? Whatever it was, I’d give anything to forget it. Forget her words. Forget everything except the feeling I get when I please her. When I make her smile. Vanessa shook her head at me from the corner of my eye. I didn’t care. Didn’t care if my need for that release killed her. Killed a hundred more. I’d kill thousands if I could forget how she looked at me. I didn’t want to feel this way, I wanted to make her-

My phone spat Mina’s soft voice as my mother’s ringtone. I froze in my tracks and looked up at my cell as it vibrated across the nightstand. Picking it up revealed the object heavier than I remembered. With a deep breath, I answered, “Hey, Ma.”

“Hey son, how’s it going up there with your job?”

I slowly lowered myself onto the bed as we spoke, “It’s umm… it’s going fine. Yeah.”

“You sure,” she asked suspiciously, “I woke up with an awful feeling and you know I’m at least half psychic.”

I laughed but on the chuckle my voice broke into a quick sob that she caught immediately, “Lonny? What’s wrong? Are you in trouble?”

My eyes watered as I nodded, “Yeah. I think… I think I might be.”

“Where are you again? I can come down and get you.”

“No,” I stated firmly, last thing I needed was my mother limping around a future warzone, “No, I’m fine. I just. God. Fuck. Mom. I’m so fucking fucked. I’m pathetic.”

“Son? Where is this coming from? You’re not pathetic.”

“Yes I am! God you don’t know half the shit wrong with me. Either I’m too scared or not allowed to tell you.”

There was a pause on the other end before I heard her soft voice, “Tell me what you can.”

I shut my eyes. Not sure why I was fighting back tears in the solitude of my hotel room. No one would see them shed and yet I bit back all the same, “I just… I was born broken.”

“Broken?”

“Yeah… Like I was made to be used. I didn’t… I didn’t belong anywhere before I went to the military. The only time I felt at home was when I could blend into a sea of faceless drones.”

“Now Lonny, that’s not-”

“Ma, I enjoyed it. I loved being their dog. I remember sitting in front of the radio praying I’d get orders, praying I’d be able to prove myself. It’s the same as with my dad. I did everything he asked when I lived there,” I felt a crunch in my knuckles, “everything.”

“Lonny.”

“Ma, I just want-”

“Lonny. Listen to me. Do you know why I never had another kid?”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t.

“My father always told me to have another, pure blooded Italian son that they could brag about to their friends. I wanted to for a while. I’m ashamed to admit that you were a disappointment in my eyes for the longest time. Then, one Thanksgiving we had you over, business as usual, you were probably four at this time.”

I listened as she spoke, the shade of Vanessa behind me growing distant, “this was like any other Thanksgiving but worse because someone left a few pots unattended around me and I decided to make Pizzoccheri.”

“And I was the only one to eat it. I know this story.”

“No,” she said, “You don’t. The truth is I’ve always been shit at cooking, Lonny. You were sick as a dog for three days after eating that crap. Family thought I tried to poison you.”

I laughed, “Yeah, I don’t remember this at all.”

“I think about it every day because when you eventually got better the first thing you asked me was if you could have more Pizzoccheri.”

This time I did remember something, a flash of guilt crossing my mom’s face.

“That’s who you are, Lonny. You always do everything you can to make people happy. I could never have another son because you were the best I could possibly make. Your father always took advantage of your need to help. Sure other people did too. But after that day I did everything I could to work on my cooking and make you happy. You have the capability to make the world a better place.”

My smile grew grim as Vanessa’s presence behind me lingered, I cleared my throat, “Mom, I’m going to have to call you back.”

“Lonny, don’t hang up. I’m really worried about you.”

“You’ve helped me plenty, just something I gotta take care of. Love you.”

I hung up.

“Calling in for the holidays?” Vanessa asked. Of course, it wasn’t really Vanessa. This intruder just stood in her guilt shadow, likely with a bead on me.

“How’s it been, Ambition?”

“It was swell.”

“I could say the same.”

“How’d the others treat you?”

“Pine got close, Innie was a pain.”

“And Pyre?”

I looked at my feet, “He was the hardest.”

“Think you’ll find Apathy this year?”

“Nah. Regan only wants you. Once I take your head I think I’m gonna call it quits. I gotta make it home for Christmas anyway.”

“You sure this’ll go your way?”

I looked over my shoulder, she stood leaded against the wall, a bolo tie held in her right hand. Her dark brow furrowed as our eyes met, “Yes.”

Before I could save my place with 7680 she closed her left eye and pulled the bolo tie taught over her black, ruptured iris, “Boom.”

Don’t remember what I noticed first, the thunk on the floor or the empty space that was once my left arm. Looking down revealed 7680 lying on the floor alongside my severed limb and a growing pool of blood supplied by my gushing stump, “Fuck.”

I lunged for my bedside table where my pistol sat, if I could kill myself before the arm was removed I could go back to my last save. When was that? A day ago? Before Innie? It would have to do. Before I could decide, the room split in two, boards and bricks splintered like twigs beneath the weight of artillery. I fell on my ass as Ambition cried out on the other side of the room, “Stop moving!”

Instinct told me to run and it took a will of diamond to swallow that urge. You’d think a person would eventually be immune to their primal self after death became a common occurrence. But no, it never left. Especially when that glove came free.

Whatever that blast was had thrown everything loose like paper bags. 7680 and my missing arm were nowhere in sight, if I killed myself now there was a very real possibility I wouldn’t be coming back.

Another blast, this one smaller, only severing the bed in two, tossing it into the wall from the force. Unfortunately, the one standing behind that bed went with it. I was out the window and staring at the sky before I even realized my position on earth had changed, by then it was far too late to catch myself.

When I met the ground it was atop a beat up truck that cracked under my weight. Luckily, I didn’t see it hurting the resale value. With a groan and a few cracking joints I rolled to meet the concrete and stand tall. Well, as tall as I could manage. The blood loss was taking its toll fast. Steady heaps of crimson gore gushed as my body desperately struggled to clot off the opening. If it killed me now that would be perfect.

“Yo-hoo!”

I looked up to the giant scar on the motel’s second floor where Ambition stood holding 7680. She used it to wave at me, the loose arm slowly slid free and plopped down to join the jagged rubble. Damn. Guess I’d be getting accustomed to only having one arm.

Ambition dropped from the second floor, smashing the reflective windshield of the Prius she fell upon. At this point several curious civilians came outside to investigate, one such brave soul called out as her feet met pavement, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, that’s my-”

That was all he managed before Ambition closed an eye, held her thumb and index finger before her face, and pinched them closed. The man popped. One second he was there and in the next his skin was flattened like a soda can, blood and anything mailable burst from skin and openings fast enough to cause an explosion of blood. It painted Ambition's face who sighed and wiped her eyes.

I nodded as the crowd began to scream and flee. Forced perspective.

Ambition slid on 7680 before flashing a smile, “You’re like a cockroach.”

“Coming from you, that’s a compliment.”

She chuckled at this, “Come on now, you can’t be throwing stones. You might have enough deaths to match me. Do you keep count?”

I didn’t answer.

She didn’t care, “Sorry Pine couldn’t help you free yourself last night. I tried to warn him, but what do I know, right?”

I nodded, “He did his share. You probably won’t believe this but I was actually about to retire.”

She laughed and shook her head, “Even if I did, what would that change? Think I’d let you walk away?”

“Why not?” I needed to stall, she had never been like this. This strong, this prepared. I’d need every bit of my arsenal to kill her and currently had nothing. None of my weapons even had the courtesy to land outside with me. The only things within reach were crumbled bricks, broken planks and what was left of the motel mirror. Needless to say, I was fucked.

“Because you didn’t let us. Take a look around you, we were living our lives, had jobs, hobbies, fucking D&D on Wednesdays! Did that stop you from hunting us down? Sending us back?”

My eyes drifted back to the chunk of mirror where I saw myself covered in blood, “No, guess it didn’t.”

“The Foundation wants to treat us like mad gods? I’ll bring fire and brimstone to your masters and drag this world back to the time of divinity.”

She lifted her bolo tie and my mind raced with what to do. The answer was simple. Keep stalling, “How’d you figure out the glove?”

Her hand stopped for a moment. I saw some wisp of an expression cross her face, it wasn’t exact but there were shades of shades resembling guilt. My eyes narrowed, “You watched me kill them.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it, took a while before it opened again. For a second I think she considered just killing me. Instead. she spoke, “Just P and Innie. Tried to talk Pine out of going after you.”

“Yet you’re judging me?”

“They’ll come back.”

“After you’ve taken your throne again?”

“It’s not like that. I needed to know how you did it. How you kept winning. They were the only way. I had cameras. Streamed what was happening from miles away.”

“You could have saved them.”

“Shut up.”

“Speaking about morals when you let me kill your friends,” I saw her nostrils flaring and her glare deepen, “You always deserved what I brought the most.”

She shut her eyes in vain as tears streamed free. I felt my heart ache for her but I needed tensions high and when her eyes finally opened again I could see they indeed were high. Hatred boiled forth as she lifted her bolo tie, preparing to pull it taught, “I am a god, I am beyond sin and virtue. What are you to judge me? Flesh. And I will punish you and the rest of your kind for convincing me that I was anything less than your one true god.”

“Gonna be hard without hitting the save button.”

Her eyes dropped from me to the glove. Got her.

I quickly grabbed a broken brick from the ground as she was distracted, the movement startled her into pulling the tie taught just as I dropped to the ground, a blast sounded off behind me as an entire forest was laid low. Thousands of trees shook the earth as I stood and pulled back my hand. With the glove I’d have infinite tries to make this shot, 1000 attempts to hit her just right. But now? My only shot facing down certain death, I felt fear.

I threw that brick right into her eye before she could attack again. She cried out and cursed as I rushed forward, grabbed the mirror and held it in front of me.

“You worm!”

She pulled the cord taught.

Its abilities vary, but all seem to rely on perception in some way, often able to twist what should be a straightforward ability into something that works because she believes it should.

Her head lay slack against the asphalt that steamed against her blood. I knelt before it, the bleeding in my own arm slowing. Knew I had to move fast before I passed out. But I owed her this much.

“I’m sorry.”

The onlookers hadn’t come out and likely wouldn’t for another hour. That would make it easy for the amnestic teams. Or, maybe they would leave. I could care less. I took her keys and found her car. Just needed to bring it to Regan and get it over with.

Apathy

Today at 7:56PM

…
Youll lose…

The clean up wasn’t much to write home about. With Ambition dead the cycle would begin again and I’d have that to look forward to. Regan seemed pleased enough to have Ambition’s head. Or maybe she just wanted an excuse to say, “Good boy.”

Didn’t get much time to express my anger before the blood loss sent me falling. She did what she could and later a Foundation doctor did what she couldn’t. Bleeding stopped but despite that I didn’t see any violins in my future.

After the weekend was over, my arm was stable enough for me to leave. Before I went out the door, Regan stopped me and mentioned another job. I told her to go fuck herself.

Nacogdoches was in ruins. It’s like killing 9570 sucked the life out of the town. People evacuated to escape the encroaching fire that had started near the wreckage of two charred vehicles. One was empty, the other held the bodies of a family of five. I drove a new company issued truck through the city’s ghost. No one walked the streets. No one even drove away. It felt as if I was the final one.

Over the distant pines I could make out the shade of orange burning away the stars. It would be here soon. Here to swallow the oldest town in Texas.

Hopefully I’d be able to get gas before then.

Seemed I was in luck as I passed a gas station with its lights on. Chose the pump closest to the door and debated if I should get some snacks, eventually settling on a ‘fuck yeah’ before stepping inside.

The bell rang sharply as I walked into the quiet shop. The clerk didn’t look up, just continued through the worn paperback he was nearly finished reading. I grabbed the basics, Dr. Pepper, beef jerky, and an entire bag of Hostess donuts. The clerk finally looked up at me as I dropped the contents onto the counter. His light brown eyes looked through a curtain of matching hair, I nodded to him, “Slow night?”

“Always is.”

“What you reading?”

“No Longer Human. Buddy of mine said the manga was good.”

“That’s not a manga though.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping I can just read the book and she not know any better.”

I laughed. He didn’t.

“What happened to your arm?”

“Cut myself shaving.”

“Nice.”

“Just realized I have no idea how I’m going to drive and eat.”

“Well, I already rung you up. You’re paying.”

“You haven’t even moved.”

“So?”

“Goddamn it,” I dug coins out of my pocket. Then, something clicked. I don’t know what it was exactly, but I realized I’d seen him before. I sighed.

Apathy

Very little is known about SCP-9570-5 as no MTF operation sent to contain it has been successful in locating the subject. It’s believed that, due to the nature of apathy as a concept, 9570-5 is either non-anomalous or has abilities that could be considered negligible to devote resources to.

...

Apathy looked me in my eye and sighed, “What gave me away.”

“You were at Pyre’s.”

“And Innie’s. And the restaurant you and Regan went to.”

“What are you doing here?”

He looked around, “Oh, you know… my job…”

“You work here?”

“And Pyre’s, and Innie’s, and the restaurant. Pine was right. We’re slaves to our nature. What’s more apathetic than a minimum wage worker?”

I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I kill him? Never had before. So, I did what I was best at recently. I started talking without thinking, “Why didn’t you…”

“Help them? Tried. Told them they’d lose.”

“But you didn’t fight? Didn’t poison me and Regan at the restaurant?”

“Haven’t fought a day in my lives.”

I opened my mouth to speak again but couldn’t find the words. Eventually I just settled on the same question, “Why?”

Apathy shrugged, “I’m more Ambition’s friend than anyone else’s. Been an outsider since we crawled out of the Void. Couldn’t help them when our kingdoms fell. Couldn’t help them when the Foundation sent soldiers. Couldn’t help when they sent you. I think I know it’s wrong, but maybe the way things work now is fine. I just don’t know why I should fight nail and tooth. We all come back, right?”

His eyes dropped to the page he had finished, “… an angel… I did like this group, though.”

He was silent. I considered leaving.

“I think I have to kill you,” Apathy said bluntly.

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know… feels right…”

“I’ve done enough killing this week. Maybe we just go our separate ways?”

“Nah it’s fine, I’m good with killing you.”

I sighed, still had my gun and knife, even with one hand this wouldn’t be hard, “Fine.”

Before Apathy could react I pulled free my handgun and leveled it with his head. Would have been so easy to pull the trigger. Put a bullet in his head and let him join his friends. My finger flexed and stopped. It was so strange. Was as if I had lost the will to kill him, “Ah, shit.”

Apathy lifted his hand and with a single finger thumped my chest. Next thing I knew I was halfway in the drink cabinets gasping for air. I only realized he was speaking to me halfway through his monologue, “Course Ambition could still land a hit. Unfortunately, for you, you’re not her.”

From his spot at the counter he closed his book and stood. I grunted and pulled myself out of the fridge only to realize he was directly in front of me now. On instinct, my knife was drawn and swung only to not meet its mark.

“Didn’t I just tell you,” Apathy scolded, grabbing the scruff of my collar and tossing me up. I was outside, my head hurt. I began to question what happened before gravity took hold and dragged me back toward the gas station. I fell through the same hole I flew from, slamming on the tile floor just before Apathy where I spat broken teeth.

“The others always bullied me for being the weakest, back in the day, I mean. But, with the turn of the century I found humans gained a renewed interest in me. Through my veins runs the boredom of a million underapreciated register jockies.”

Apathy knelt and gently held my chin, “Your god died with Y2K. I’m what took its place.”

Was behind the register now, the cartoon outline of my body left in the counter. I must have crashed through. Apathy sighed, “You know, this isn’t really as fun when you aren’t fighting back. I’ll give you a go.”

The knife was still in my hand, maybe I couldn’t stab him but there might be something I could do. After a few failed attempts I stood with the help of the crumbling counter, “Is it even possible for me to beat you?”

“Been done before.”

“How?”

“Oh, they killed me.”

“Illuminating,” I gripped my blade and made an arc to throw it right at his head. His guard triggered, at the end of the arc, my will faded and my grip loosened.

Based on his speed previously, I’m sure he could have dodged the incoming knife, but he didn’t. It sailed through the air and pierced his left arm. He smiled, “there you go, now you’re getting it. You catch on fast.”

“You can still back out.”

“You kidding? This was just starting to get fun. In fact, I think I should go all out,” as he said this, the room began to shake and shift strangely around him. I watched as a rack of chips floated around his head to create a halo of Funyuns. The light left the room, gathering at his back to glow in the outline of wings that buzzed with flourecence.

“I’m curious if you’ll survive this,” a bag floated from the halo’s ring to its center. Before I could even contemplate if I should run, the bag opened and collapsed into a singularity. The building vanished in an instant, it and everything in it fell within the void to be pulverized into a single point. Everything, that is, but me. Apathy was kind enough to catch me by the throat before the black hole could swallow me. It couldn’t have existed for longer than a single instant but in that time it had swallowed so much. The only thing that remained of the gas station were the pumps and the front door. Apathy smiled at me as my lungs gasped for relief, “looks like you wouldn’t have.”

Another thump that shattered ribs that had only been broken previously sent me through the driver side door of my truck. I sat there a while, pondering if there was anyway I could actually kill this guy. What were my options? Options? He’s opening wormholes on my face and wavedashing. I was out of options the moment we started. The only benefit I had found was that I could throw something at him. A lot of good that would do, he’d be in trouble if I found a ball. Then it clicked.

I used my only arm to search the glovebox before sliding out the other side. Apathy called out to me in a sing-song voice, “Lonnyyyy, where’re ya going.”

My feet gave away my escape across the gravel lot, I dropped my last hope next to the pumps as I prayed I’d make it far enough. Unfortunately, Apathy grabbed it at a distance just before one I’d have considered comfortable, “Never seen you run before,” he mocked as his foot held my face to the ground.

“You’ll wish you’d had in a second.”

The grenade I left near the pump burst and ignited the wells of gasoline beneath into a great fireball. The flames were swallowing us both. For a moment, I was content. Always knew I’d die facing down a god. Sucks it was this guy but I’d be happy walking hand in hand into hell with him. I felt content, then I heard a chip bag open. The singularity swallowed the flames in an instant before vanishing from reality. Apathy smiled, “I’ll admit, that wasn’t a bad plan.”

He grabbed my face and with a flap of his ethereal wings, dragged my bare face against the gravel back to the store’s wreckage. I screamed as blood painted stone. Apathy lifted me and tilted his head, “Would be wise to kill you now, before you can figure out a way to kill me. But then again, I can’t be bothered to care.”

He began punching me, obviously holding back as to not take my head off but swinging with enough force to bust my skin and spray blood across the ground. For what felt like an eternity, I heard nothing but the crack of his knuckles against my skull.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Ding!

Apathy stopped beating my ass to turn and see none other than Senior Researcher Regan Morgan walk through the barely standing door with a big smile on her face. Apathy sighed, “hey lady, we’re actually closed right now. You’ll have to come back later.”

I gasped between lung fulls of blood when I saw her, “Regan… G-get outta here!”

“Regan, huh,” Apathy dropped me and turned his full attention to her, “didn’t think I’d be meeting you. Wanna join your pup?”

I gasped and tried desperately to stand only to find my legs lacking. Regan crossed the broken tiles, only stopping a moment to pick my gun up from the ground. Apathy sighed again, “Or just ignore me that’s cool too.”

Regan pulled back the hammer as her Docs crunched on the uneven ground on their way to Apathy. He didn’t seem to mind, even did a gesture that seemed to signal do your worst. And so she did. She stepped in front of him, placed the gun against his head and only in the last second did I hear Apathy quietly gasp.

“Boom.”

The bullet blew out the back of Apathy’s head who fell to his knees before slumping to the ground next to me. I stared into his light brown eyes as his voice quietly said, “damn… that sucks…”

Regan nodded then walked to me, “can you stand?”

Took many attempts to find out, but I eventually discovered I could. Regan nodded again, “Good, drive yourself to the Site in Milam. They’ll get you patched up. Oh, and don’t forget to saw off his head.”

She handed me my gun and turned to leave, through my broken voice, I called out to her, “How… how did you…”

She turned and smiled, “I was leaving town right behind you, decided to pull over and help out. Seemed you needed it.”

That’s when I saw it, likely the same thing Apathy saw right before he died. I saw her dark, ruptured iris staring back at me. She turned again, walking to her car. My grip on the handgun tightened. I needed to kill her. I needed to put a bullet in her head before she drove away. Now do it while you still had the chance! Kill her! Do it! Now!

I watched her climb into her car and drive away.

Alonzo Moretti

Good Boy

Ethics Hearing 9570: Sentencing

Subject: SENIOR RESEARCHER REGAN MORGAN’S UNAUTHORIZED EXPERIMENTS WITH AMNESTICS AND FOUNDATION ASSETS

Hearing Official: SENIOR CHAIRMAN JAMES PERISH

[BEGIN LOG]

(The Trial has reconvened following a 12 hour recess.)

PERISH: Apologies everyone. I believe that will be the last interruption.

MORGAN: Glad to hear that, chairman.

PERISH: Mr. Moretti, before moving to sentencing, I want to thank you for bringing this case to our attention. Given Senior Researcher Morgan’s authority and reputation, I know it couldn’t have been an easy decision for you.

MORETTI: It was easier than you’d think. I only wish I had made it sooner, chairman.

PERISH: The evidence you’ve compiled is extensive and, now that we’ve reviewed the names, we can confirm Foundation involvement in nearly every instance. The few we couldn’t were unusual enough to all but confirm it.

MORGAN: There’s no need for semantics, chairman. I believe the Committee has received my letter?

PERISH: We have. Mr. Moretti, Senior Researcher Morgan has admitted to all wrongdoing. She’d like to extend an apology-

MORETTI: She can extend her neck with a rope as far as I-

PERISH: Mr. Moretti, that is enough.

MORETTI: I’m sorry, but I’m tired. With the evidence I collected this should have been open and shut. You’ve dragged this out for weeks and now-

PERISH: Mr. Moretti.

MORETTI: And now she’s admitted to all of it! She should be in an orange jumpsuit right now.

PERISH: MR. MORETTI! If you allow me to finish. Senior Researcher Morgan is admitting to all wrongdoing and extending an apology in accordance with a plea she’s made with the O5-Council.

MORETTI: The O5?

MORGAN: Oh, Lonny, they just loved your document so much-

PERISH: Senior Researcher, you will remain silent for the remainder of this hearing. I am forced to carry out this sentence, but I will not abide your… indulgence in this courtroom.

MORGAN: Yes, chairman.

PERISH: Now, in addition to her apology, Senior Researcher Morgan will be expected to continue her experiments with amnestics, of course excluding the termination of “low risk individuals”. Her department will be granted an increase in amnestics to aid your assignment.

MORETTI: You’re going to allow her to keep doing this to people?

PERISH: No… No, the council is currently intrigued by the results but underwhelmed by the consistency. Mr. Moretti, I’m afraid further experiments will be conducted solely on you until standards are met.

MORETTI: No!

PERISH: Adjourned.

MORGAN: Take him.

MORETTI: Get off of me! No! Don’t make me go! Kill me! Please! Kill me!

[END LOG]

Hey, ma.

Yeah, sorry, I don’t think I’ll make it to Christmas, I had a job come up.

Save me a plate for when I come home?

You’re the best. I love you.

Bye.