Short stories from the Equestrian version of the Foundation.
In Equestria, there is a place that attempts to keep horrors and the unknown hidden from view. They operate in secret, containing what cannot be explained and dealing with what could threaten the world. They are the last line of defense protecting ponykind. Not an easy thing to do in a world of Draconequus', Manticores and magic. So, imagine what they're hiding... These are some of those stories.
Although, Dr. Rights couldn't tell if it was either morning or night, this was because she was currently situated several meters below the ground where the only light available were from fixtures.
Dr. Rights sighed and bowed her head into her hooves. It had been a long night (she presumed) and the numerous cups of coffee were starting to wear off. She forced her eyes to focus on the parchment in front of her, re-reading the lines:
Rights sighed again; it had taken the recon team hours to verify the new SCP and days to even come up with a plan to contain it. Ultimately, the honor of capturing it went to Dr. Clef, who had somehow managed to find a way to contain it while keeping deaths and damage to the SCP at a minimum. That, however, was where his responsibility ended and now Dr. Rights was left to write up a set of containment protocols.
"SCP-2102 is currently located within Site 19. Subject is to be kept in a soundproof 6m x 6m furnished with a single bed. An anti-magic field must be maintained around the subject's room at all times and strengthened on a daily basis. At all times is SCP-2102 to have at least two (2) level 3 unicorn guards stationed outside the room with constant surveillance. Guards and monitoring staff are to be stationed by the living area and all activity deviating from the daily norm is to be recorded.”
Rights decided that now was the time to an excellent time to grab another cup of coffee as she lowered the quill. Her writing was starting to become illegible and she figured that seeing blue spots wasn't the best sign of progress. Maybe I’ll pick up a sandwich while I'm there she thought idly as she levitated her "World's Best Mom" mug off the desk and walked out of her office.
*
"Good morning Dr. Rights. Come for some breakfast?" said Dr. Glass greeting Rights as she walked into the cafeteria. Rights looked at the brown nondescript earth pony.
"Morning Dr. Glass" Rights replied wearily "I'm mainly here for the coffee."
"Up all night again?" Rights nodded as she walked over to the coffee machine,
"Containment protocols don't write themselves..." Rights thought for a moment "...with a few exceptions." she added as she grabbed a sandwich and made her way over to where Glass was sitting.
"Is that for the new SCP that Clef brought in?" Glass inquired starting to munch on some toast.
"Yeah..." Rights sighed as she took a sip of the lukewarm drink, Rights made a face.
"Ah, yes. The coffee today is especially invigorating." Glass laughed,
"Invigorating, now that is a word that I would not use." Rights made another face as she took another drink of the brown muck.
"Well, what do we have here?" a familiar voice asked, Rights looked over to see a dog walk over to where Glass and her were currently seated.
"Hello Kain." Glass smiled, Rights just sighed, this was more interaction than she was used to in the mornings.
"What are we talking about?"
"The new SCP."
"Ah, that." Dr. Crow nodded knowingly, "I hear it gave Clef quite a bit of trouble."
"It’s still proving to be a headache, exposing itself to that many ponies..." Rights sighed and shook her head "Speaking of headaches, I have to go write up that containment." motioned to leave nearly bumping into the pony in front of her.
"Ah, Dr. Rights, are you having a pleasant morning?" Rights looked down to see the short grey colt that had addressed her,
"Good morning Dr. Gears." Gears cocked an eyebrow
"Is it?"
"Come sit with us Gears." Glass offered before Rights could respond,
"Unfortunately I must decline, I am merely here to grab a cup of coffee before checking on SCP-2003. Yesterday it exhibited a previously unrecorded reaction to the word 'fishy' and I was hoping to test a few more piscine words."
"Well, good luck with that Gears, oh, and your thing too Rights." Glass yelled as Rights walked off, she just mumbled in response.
*
Rights was almost at her office when the last pony she ever wanted to see walked around the corner. "Why, hello Rights!" Dr. Alto Clef smiled. She mentally recoiled at the thought of more polite conversing and even worse it was with Clef.
"Hello, Clef." She sighed, knowing that she would never get away from the brown pony with a ukulele on his back and the musical cutie mark no matter how hard she tried.
"How are you this fine Equestria morning? Enjoying my present?" Rights just sighed in response, "You sure? It injured half the task force before I got to have a go at it." Clef mimed punching the air for added effect.
"After I captured it I thought," - Clef tapped his hoof on his chin in mock thought - " 'Who would appreciate this the most?' and that’s when I figured that you would." Clef had now wrapped a hoof around Rights' shoulder "So, it’s all yours beautiful." Rights pulled away from the pony with the crazy smile a look of disdain on her face,
"And thanks to that exploit, I now have a report to file and protocols to write so goodbye." Clef pretended to look heartbroken,
"Alas, my mauve bunny, we are parted too soon." Rights just gave him a look as she stomped off to her office. "Ah mares, they’re so hard to please. Now who else can I have fun with while Kondraki is away?" Clef lamented.
Spotting Dr. Iceburg walking down the other end of the hall Clef's face lit up and he bounded towards the poor colt.
*
Rights shut the door behind her set the (now cold) cup of coffee on her desk glad to be away from that annoying colt.
She looked around her office enjoying the familiarity, it was small but homely, containing a bookcase of reference books (and a few romance novels for good measure), a couch and, of course, her desk. Her desk, where that damned parchment lay, incomplete, she sighed.
That small piece of parchment was the only thing standing between her and her family.
She thought that for once it would be nice to finish on time and spend some time with them. Every time Rights came home her daughter seemed to be just ‘that’ much older, it seemed like only a year ago that she was just a baby foal, now she was a filly and was on her way to earning her cutie mark.
While Rights didn't get much time off she at least had the luxury of going home at the end of the week which was better than a few others she knew. She levitated the quill and, filled with the thoughts of her family greeting her when she came home, proceeded to write:
"Subject is to remain restricted at all times. SCP-2102 is to be fed three (3) times a day at regular intervals. Any items SCP-2102 requests are to be granted pending O5 approval. Staff wishing to observe or utilize SCP-2102 for testing may only do so with prior approval from the site director and a member of the O5 council. Any attempt to engage with SCP-2102 without prior approval will be subject to disciplinary measures up to transfer to a new site."
Rights' eyes were starting to glaze over as the parchment and quill fell onto the desk, 2 days of sleeplessness were catching up to her. The sofa in the corner was looking better and better.
She held fast, she just had to complete this last piece of paperwork and then she could finally sleep. Even better, it would be in her own house, in her own bed.
In an effort to keep sleep away she took a sip of coffee, suddenly remembering that it had gone cold she gagged but managed to force the cold disgusting liquid down her throat, she needed all the help caffeine could offer. Finishing what was left of the wretched stuff, she turned her attention back where it was needed. In a final burst of pure coffee-driven will power she once more levitated the quill:
" Description:
SCP-2102 appears to be a violet alicorn responding to the name 'Twilight Sparkle'…"
"Alright, welcome to orientation. I'm Right Order and I'm your orientation leader for today. First, let me congratulate you on being the chosen few to join us here at the Foundation. The reason you're here is because you chose to protect the world from what it doesn't know and because what we do interests you. Now, many (if not all) of you think you can solve everything, fix all of SCP-191's problems, make SCP-198 disappear, etc. You can't, deal with it. The real reason you're here is because you're smart and as long as you have a working head on your shoulders you just might be around long enough to get to enjoy retirement.
Now all of you are here are considered 'junior researchers'. That means you are the lowest rung on the ladder. There are hundreds of experiments that need to be run and you lucky folks are going to be the ones to run them. For an unlucky few, you will be working as assistants to other researchers. They will outline your tasks in a way that doesn't require you to go through tons of theory. Carry out the experiments, write down the findings carefully and if anything unexpected happens, write that down even more carefully. That's pretty much it.
Now, being a junior researcher means you are classified as level 1, this means you have very limited access and will have to live on site. You will be assigned dorms and-
Huh? What? No. No you can't swap dorm rooms and trust me; you do not want to be caught. Relationships are strongly discouraged. As I was saying we have state-of-the-art facilities including the library, a staff lounge, a recreation room that you will likely never see and one of the best cafeterias in Equestria. For those of you assigned to other sites I hear theirs are just as good.
And yes - before any of you decide to interrupt - yes many of you will be assigned to other sites. This is to ensure that no site is under staffed, over staffed or lacking in resources. For those stationed at other sites, particularly Site 113, this is not a form of punishment - despite what others say. It just means that it has been determined that your skills are required at those sites. Again, Site 113 is not a punishment.
What's that? When was The Foundation established? That's a good question, one I would have answered anyway if you had been patient. Well...
The establishment of The Foundation dates back to the end of Discord's reign. The Founder saw that the end of Discord did not mean the end of chaos or his influence. Various anomalies were left behind. Wanting to do his part to create an era of harmony, the Founder gathered together a group of like-minded ponies and set to establish a means to secure and contain these oddities. After the rise of Nightmare Moon it was decided that several of the 'SO's, as they were then called, couldn't just be contained but some needed to be destroyed for the sake of protecting the now fragile peace.
The ultimate goal now is to protect Equestria from anomalous objects and/or events. This is accomplished by securing, containing and protecting these anomalous. Securing - by capturing the object or removing it from public knowledge. Containing - by studying it. Learning why it does what it does and how it might be destroyed. And Protecting - by ensuring that those that could and would do harm cannot, either by eliminating it or by making sure it never sees the light of day.
We exist under the veil of secrecy for a reason, to keep the status quo. Even the princesses have little-to-no idea that we exist, and we like it that way, it lets us get away with more...ambiguous styles of testing.
No! No more! Questions can be asked at the end of the orientation.
Now that we've got that out of the way, here is the fundamental basics of what you need to know; Just because an SCP is labeled as 'Safe' does not mean it is safe. I cannot stress this enough, a 'Safe' SCP just means that we knows what it does and how to deal with 98% of what it throws at us. Just remember that if you do something one hundred times, it’s the hundred and first time that will get you.
Next, your job as junior researchers is to observe and take notes, not to try and "figure the SCP out", that is the job of the actual researchers. Follow what your given, don't deviate and who knows, maybe you'll come out the other end in one piece.
Now, SCPs come in all shapes and sizes, these include some that will exhibit sapience or provoke an emotional response. No matter what, SCPs are here for a reason. Just because an SCP looks like a crying filly does not mean that it won't suddenly turn around and separate your upper from your lower. SCPs are dangerous, treat them with caution.
Finally, despite all the doom and gloom, working here you get to see some of the most amazing, wonderful and mind blowing things ever to exist. Some open windows to other worlds, some will change others can warp the fabric of the universe. All in all, you get to experience nothing like you have or will ever see in your life. So just remember that while you're running for all you hold dear, you get a front row seat to the best show the universe has to offer.
Alright, now you can ask all those burning questions you guys seem to have.
What was that? Why do you have to stay on site? Probation period really. It's only for six-or-so months and then you'll get your level 1 permanent clearances, and will be able to spend their time off wherever...if you get any...After about a year you have the option of leaving or continuing. Those that choose to leave will have Class A amnesiacs administered and released back into the world none the worse.
Next. Yes? What? Who is the 'Founder'? That's an easy one, the Founder is the Founder. He came along, saw a problem, came up with a solution and we moved on. No sense getting all caught up in the past...unless you're Dr. Turner that is...anyway, the Foundation must move forward and so must we.
Oh, I'm sorry? That wasn't a good enough answer? *sigh* Ok, no one knows officially who the Founder is. He was obviously someone with enough pull to set this entire operation up but no-one really knows who he is. Oh, sure you'll hear rumors and the like but they're just that, rumors, and if anyone says 'within every rumor is a grain of truth' then you have my permission to tell Dr. Kondraki exactly when that person goes to sleep.
Yes? Who is Dr. Kondraki? Well, if you're lucky and smart you'll never find out. And no, I'm not going to expand on that other than to say stay away from most senior staff if you want to survive.
Ok, last question. Yes? Holidays? You really want that to be the last question? *sigh* Ok, the only 'official' holiday is Hearth's Warming. That said there are no actual holidays. Five-thirty-two does not take a break just because it's Hearts and Hooves day or something like that. In fact, some of them become more dangerous during those times of the year. Since you are junior researches, on top of all that 'free time' and 'holidays' might as well be removed from your vocabulary.
Ok, that's the end of the orientation. Soon security personnel will come and debrief you, supply you with your assignment details and escort you to whichever researcher you'll be working for. In the meantime help yourself to some water and graham crackers, I'm sorry about that, we used to offer coffee and donuts but these are easier to see if they've been tampered with - you can thank a certain agent for that- so help yourself. "
Lime Research walked through the library doors and flashed her badge at the pony behind the desk. Without looking up from her magazine the pony motioned Research to proceed to the room behind the counter. Research nodded in confirmation and continued to the small room where she selected a book from a nearby shelf and pulled it hard. The shelf swung around depositing her at the top of a long staircase. Research walked gingerly down the stairs, carefully placing one hoof in front of the other so as not to trip in the dim light. She hated this part, being a pegasus she had a natural affinity for flying, the small cramped stairs hindered this by not having enough room to spread her wings. She had the suspicion that this was intentional. Research breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the bottom, she had managed to make it all the way down without tripping, she was still recovering from the bruises she got a few days ago during orientation. She braced herself and used the badge to open the door in front of her.
*
"So where is this new pony I've been hearing about?" Clef asked the short gray pony in front of him,
"Her shift has yet to commence and, being as she is new, I am currently unacquainted with her rituals." Dr. Gears responded in his usual deadpan voice. Clef sighed, it was always difficult speaking with Gears, he swore one day that he would prove that Gears was a robot. However, he had a new toy at the moment.
"If you don't know, just say. Do you know anyone who might know where she is?"
"I believe that she is assigned to be assisting Dr. Rights today. Dr. Rights, I believe, is currently in her office." Gears replied preempting Clef's next question. After all, Gears was busy and taking time to indulge in Dr. Clef's flights of fancy could be time consuming and, if you weren't prepared, could result in the loss of a limb. However, before Clef could respond a scream pierced the corridor.
"And I believe we have just found the location of our latest recruit" Clef smiled as he galloped towards where the scream had come from. Gears just shook his head and proceeded down the corridor.
*
The cafeteria was Research's first stop. She had been eager to begin work and had subsequently forgotten to eat breakfast, that and the orientation leader had mentioned that the cafeteria was one of the best in Equestria. She was still in awe at how large it was, able to hold (according to the orientation leader anyway) all personnel stationed on site. A large blackboard situated at the entrance clearly mentioned the lunch and dinner specials while inside a number of chairs and long tables had been laid out. There were hundreds of dishes laid out on a bench along one wall, containing everything from toast and sandwiches to hashed browns, there were even some cupcakes at the far end. There was coffee, tea and biscuits set out on another table.
Research was standing there, mouth agape, for a while, caught up in her own world. It wasn't until a hand tapped her on the shoulder that she snapped out of her trance. Research turned to apologize to the pony only to come face-to-face with a monkey, it smiled and waved. The sudden shock of being pulled from her thoughts to face a monkey wearing a laboratory coat, one that smiled and waved, caused her body to react in the most rational way it knew how...she screamed.
*
"You called for me, my damsel?" Dr. Clef proclaimed striking what he believed to be a 'noble' pose. Dr. Bright just rolled his eyes and pointed to the cafeteria’s ceiling. Looking up Clef managed to see a small light green blob with a spot of brown plastered to the ceiling of the cafeteria.
"Oooh, a pegasus." Clef grinned to himself; he was going to have fun.
"What's up? I heard a scream." Dr. Glass inquired, as he stuck his head into the cafeteria. A quick glance at a smiling Dr. Clef, an amused Dr. Bright and what appeared to be a green pegasus stuck - quite firmly - to the ceiling gave him enough information to piece together what had happened. Glass groaned,
"Couldn't you have waited until she settled in first?"
"Where's the fun in that? Plus I just got here."
"And all I did was say 'Hello'" Dr. Bright wrote on his board.
"It's alright, you can come down now." Glass shouted up at the frightened pony.
"What is that?" Research managed to shout down.
"I'm not a ‘that’." Dr. Clef huffed. Glass placed a hoof in between his closed eyes and rubbed.
"Not you, she's talking about Bright." Glass sighed,
"Well she could have made it clearer." Glass chose to ignore Clef and shouted out to the frightened pegasus,
"This is Dr. Bright. He was just saying 'hello'. Come down and I promise he won't hurt you." Slowly Research detached herself from the ceiling and lowered herself down until he was in front of Dr. Glass, never taking her eyes off Dr. Bright.
"Hello, I am Dr. Glass. I'm the head of Psychology and this - "
"I'm the amazing and wonderful Dr. Clef," Clef boasted sticking out a hoof; Research shook it with some trepidation.
"It's nice to have a pretty young mare around here; it gets dull looking only at colts every day." Researched blushed at the compliment, suddenly a board was pushed past Clef and into her line of sight,
"I'm sorry I startled you. My name is Dr. Bright. A pleasure to meet you." it read.
"Um, likewise." Research said quietly,
"I'm Lime Research."
"A lovely name, for a lovely mare." Bright wrote back. Glass sighed; he could see that Bright's non-stop big toothed grin was starting to unnerve the poor pegasus. That and his colleagues hitting on the new comer were highly inappropriate.
"Come Ms. Research, I believe you've been assigned to Dr. Rights." Glass herded Research out of the cafeteria and into the corridor, away from the two grinning senior staff members.
"Well she sure is an interesting one. Nice body too." Bright wrote. Clef looked at his fellow staff member. "You scared her deliberately." Clef accused, Bright just gave him an innocent look.
"Well, you're right. She does have a nice body." The two men continued staring at where Research had exited the cafeteria, lost in their own thoughts, before turning to each other, nodding and leaving to do what they deemed to be 'more important'.
*
"So...Dr. Blight is a monkey?"
"Bright," Glass corrected, "And not quite." Glass internally struggled with how to explain Bright and his 'predicament' to the fresh faced Junior Researcher. He settled on the diplomatic approach.
"Dr. Bright is a brilliant researcher. His current state is the result of an accident tying him to an SCP; he has since proven to be a loyal and useful asset to the Foundation." Glass explained.
"And Dr. Clef?" Glass balked, he didn't like speaking ill of his colleagues but Clef, over the years, had made it hard.
"Dr. Clef is...a valuable and unique pony." Glass coughed as if to signal the end of the discussion about Clef,
"Moving on, you will be working under Dr. Rights. Your job will be simple, you will help with her research projects and anything else she requires - basically, you will stick to her like glue. In addition to those duties you will be running tests on various SCP objects as set by your supervisor. Any questions, queries and complaints are made to them as well. Any questions?"
"Yeah, what's Dr. Rights like? Is she like the other two?" Glass just smiled and knocked on the door in front of him. There was a muffled thump followed by a squeak in response.
"Why don't you find out?"
*
Junior Researcher Lime Research's first impression of Dr. Rights wasn't wholly unflattering, just not very flattering. Dr. Rights lay on her couch, her haunches high in the air, one leg on either side of the couch allowing Research, and in effect Glass as well, to get a full unobstructed view of her behind. The rest of the poor mauve doctor was face-first on the ground with her forelegs out in front of her as if holding something down, her mane was a mess. Glass' face instantly turned red as his brain finally recognized the scene before him. Glass coughed and turned his head. The pony, that Research guessed was Dr. Rights, twitched and slowly and carefully lifted her head, turning it towards the door where a shocked Research and a rather embarrassed Glass stood. An irritated look crossed her face,
"Well? Don't just stand there, make yourself useful. Grab the bottle on my desk." Research just stood there dumbfounded as Glass slowly and carefully, so as not to look at the uncompromising scene, walked around Dr. Rights and grabbed a bottle of pills on her desk.
"You too," Research jumped as the incapacitated doctor addressed her, she looked around wildly as she tried to figure how best to help. Rights sighed,
"Come over here," Research complied,
"Now, put your hooves on top of mine. I'm going to move mine and I want you to press down firmly, but not hard, just enough to keep him in place. Alight, now!" Quickly but carefully, Rights pulled her hooves from under Research's, underneath them Research could feel something squirming, trying to escape. She tried her best not to recoil at what could be under her hooves.
"Good." Dr. Rights said as she righted herself, using a hoof to straighten a bit of her mane,
"Glass, pass that here and you," Rights pointed at Research,
"Keep him still." Rights wrapped the bottle in Glass' hoof in a light green aura and used magic to open the lid, pulling out one dark brown pill and placing it in her hoof. Slowly she walked up to Research and bent down, placing the hoof with the pill in between Research's hooves.
"Alright, let go now." Research slowly lifted her hooves, allowing a small brown animal to speed out and land on Rights' back.
"Thank you for your help. I always have trouble giving Pterry his pill."
"Terry?" Research gawked at the small brown thing that looked like a cross between a hummingbird and a bat.
"SCP-346; otherwise known as ‘Pterry’. The name comes from what we've named the species, Pterodactylus; it means 'winged fingers'." Glass explained, Research just stood there marvelling at the creature that appeared to be aware of the attention and was now puffing up its chest and thrusting it forward in an effort to seem important.
"I am Dr. Rights and you are?"
"Research! Lime Research." Research jumped at the sudden question, snapping her out of daze, Glass chuckled at her reaction.
"First time seeing an SCP?"
"Yes...in a way..." Rights raised an eyebrow,
"Ms. Research here is going to be working under you, helping you amongst other things." Rights just looked at Glass who held up a hoof,
"This was decided by the 'Powers That Be', so don't bite the messenger. I shall see you, Ms. Research, early tomorrow for your evaluation." He nodded to both of them and left. Rights sighed, and walked back to her desk, Pterry by now had flown to a small swing near Rights' desk. Using magic, Rights levitated some sheets of paper and began to go through them; Research stood awkwardly where she had been when she let go of Pterry. Rights' sighed again and put down the papers,
"As my 'assistant' you will be expected to help me conduct a variety of tests on a number of SCPs, you will be expected to write reports and deliver them to me, unless told explicitly by me or your supervisor, you are to stick to me at all times. You are to ignore anything Bright or Clef tells you, ok?"
"Yes, ma'am" Rights glared at Research,
"Yes, doctor." Research tried again, this time Rights seemed to accept it as she turned her head back to the papers on the desk and continued shuffling through them.
*
"Pardon me Dr. Rights, but I do believe that Junior Researcher Research is currently assigned to you and should be here. Oh good." Right Order clapped his hooves together looking at Research, who was standing in the middle of the room feeling awkward. It had been several minutes and Dr. Rights had yet to speak to or even acknowledge Research since telling her to ignore Clef and Bright. She still couldn't understand why, sure they seemed off and one was a monkey but they seemed harmless enough.
"Dr. Rights as Junior Researcher Research is under your purview, I am required that you sign this," Order pulled a form out from his lab coat and passed it to Rights. After a quick scan Rights levitated a quill, dipped it in and signed the form, passing it back to Order.
"Thank you, Dr. Rights. Junior Researcher Research, come." Order turned around and walked out of Rights' office, Research looked at Rights, who waved a dismissive hoof, and turned to follow Order out of the office.
*
"You will be conducting a small experiment utilising SCP-447. The outlines for the experiment are in that folder," Order said passing a manila folder across his desk to Research. Carefully, Research used a wingtip to flick the folder open and view the contents.
"SCP-447 is a green sphere approximately 5 cm in diameter which constantly excretes a viscous slime at a rate of approximately 10 cc/hour," I know, I can read Research thought as she skimmed the files,
"The experiment is simple, you are to test SCP-447's effects on plant matter, specifically that of a Bonsai tree. You are to observe and take notes based on the outcomes and then submit your results to Dr. Rights, Dr. Clef and myself."
"Dr. Clef?"
"Is there something wrong, Junior Researcher Research?"
"No, nothing." Looks like I get to see what Dr. Clef is like, Research thought to herself. Dr. Glass had been elusive and Dr. Rights had flat out warned her not to listen to him, so it looked like she finally got to see what was so special about him.
"Good, I should hope not. Dr. Clef is a well respected member of the Foundation. As your superior for this experiment you are to listen and follow his direction to. the. letter." Order hit one hoof on the other to emphasize his point. Research merely nodded,
"The experiment will take place in Testing Lab W-37455,"
"Uh, Dr. Order..."
"Since you are new, I shall escort you. Please pay close attention to the coloured lines on the floor, they will help you." Order maneuvered himself from behind his desk and walked out of his small office. Flipping the manila folder shut, Research tucked it under her wing and followed the brown earth pony out of the office.
*
Once again Research found herself staring at the brown earth pony with a giant grin and a ukulele on his back. Right Order had left not too long ago and now Research and Clef were staring at each other. While she didn't voice it, she had a sneaking suspicion that the reason why Dr. Clef was here and why she was working on SCP-447, which - coincidentally - was under Dr. Clef's supervision, was because he had somehow managed to arrange it.
"Hello again Ms. Research, are you ready to do some science?" The way Clef asked made it seem as if they were preparing to do something perverse. Research just nodded, she took a quick glance around the room. There were a number of apparatus around the room which seemed to be constantly measuring something, looking after them was a yellow unicorn and a purple earth pony. The most eye-catching part of the room was the large window taking up roughly three-quarters of the far wall, beyond it lay another room, only this room contained nothing other than a large plastic tub and a table with a single Bonsai tree on it.
"Now before you enter, you need to go through decon to make sure you haven't had any contact with dead bodies. Have you?" Clef looked at Research with a serious expression on his face, one she didn't expect from the constantly smiling pony.
"No and 'decon'?"
"Decontamination. Now once you get in there I will relay instructions to you through and you will carry out the experiment." Clef explained as he steered Research out of the room and down the hallway towards another entrance,
"I? As in by myself?"
"No, of course not. The O-5 won't let me do that anymore. Rough Analysis will be there taking notes as well." Clef smiled as he pushed Research through the open doorway and shut the glass door behind her.
"Good Luck!"
*
Research stepped out of decontamination shivering. Decontamination seemed to be nothing more than a cold shower, leaving Research wet and fairly annoyed.
"He could have warned me." She muttered under her breath, luckily there were towels off to the side. After a quick dry, she turned around to see a yellow unicorn come out of decontamination, without a word she offered him the towel. The unicorn, Research presumed it was Rough Analysis, just shook his head and indicated for her to throw the towel into a bin near the decontamination exit. Using his magic he levitated a towel towards himself and proceeded to dry himself off. Having both deposited their towels in the laundry bin; they turned their attention towards the plant on the table in the middle of the room.
"Testing, can you hear me?" Dr. Clef's voice crackled over the radio. Rough nodded and Research replied with a 'yes'.
"Good, now Lime I want you to take the tree and place half of it into the tub containing 447-2 and then remove it." Research flinched at the mention of her given name, it made her feel uncomfortable to have someone she didn't know call her with that kind of intimacy, and she liked to keep things professional. Despite that, she complied, picking up the Bonsai off the table with her hooves placing half into the tub before pulling it out again.
"Describe whatever happens, thoughts, feelings, smells, how attractive you find me, tastes, if the tree has grown, etc." Research furrowed her brow, Wait, what was that middle one? She looked at Rough for a reaction, however, he just stood there, stoic, waiting for her to describe anything unusual. Research looked down and proceeded to list off anything she thought was important, which, other than a faint smell of mint and a green hue, didn’t amount to much.
*
This proceeded for a while, with various tests carried out on the poor tree, all the while with Clef delivering instructions through the radio embedded in the wall and with the occasional inappropriate comment made to Research. She was beginning to see why other ponies were so 'general' in their praises of Dr. Clef, after two and a half hours of being hit on by Clef she was just about to smack him, all the while Rough stood there impassively taking notes. Finally, they had reached the final test,
"Dunk the tree completely into the solution, my salt-lick." Research just about dropped the plant in embarrassment, but proceeded to do as Clef had said, he was clearly enjoying this. Research proceeded to list off any changes to the plant and placed it back on the table. Rough Analysis nodded to her and then turned to the window where she could see Dr. Clef looking back at them, Rough then nodded to Clef as well.
"Good, we're done here, place the tree back on the table and proceed to decon." There was a brief sound of static as the microphone was switched off. Rough turned back to Research and indicated that they were to leave. As Rough placed his front hoof on the floor, he slipped on some green tinted slime, causing him to fall forwards and his haunches to fly up and proceed to keep his original forward momentum. In short, Rough did, for all intents and purposes, a decent roll right into the tub containing SCP-447-2 causing it to land on Research. Time appeared to stand still for a moment. Rough Analysis, lying on his back on the floor, Research covered head-to-hoof in 447's slimy run-off, the other researchers stood still gaping at what had just happened. The silence was only broken by Dr. Clef's roars of laughter which could be heard quite clearly without the use of a microphone. Rough slowly stood up,
"Sorry," he uttered rather sheepishly. Research just stared straight ahead, not moving or blinking. Slowly and with purpose she moved towards decontamination, aware of every pony’s eyes on her. She stepped into the decontamination cubicle and waited for the blast of cold water. She had read up on SCP-447 while Right Order escorted her to the testing lab, so she was aware of the protocols for something like this but, this on her first day, she closed her eyes as the showers started up, this is just too embarrassing she thought.
*
Clef was waiting for her with a towel when she finally got out of decontamination. He was still sniggering as she took the towel from him with one of her wings, Ugh, they feel all gummy, she stretched the other wing to see if it felt the same, and it did. She sighed and started to dry herself off, it was as she was drying herself off that Clef's expression changed and his smile grew wider, ...I didn't think that was possible, Clef leaned in close and whispered,
"You smell delightful, minty." He then proceeded to laugh raucously, Research froze, lifted a hoof and sniffed, Clef was right, I do smell minty but why would he...? Then it hit her, her coat. A lime-green, mint smelling pony, she was, essentially, a walking, talking joke. Clef still hadn't stopped laughing,
"Junior Researcher Research, I came to retrieve you so we might proceed with your debriefing..." Right Order stopped when he saw Clef leaning against the wall in an effort to keep himself upright,
"Junior Researcher Research, what happen-" Order stopped mid-sentence and his face hardened when he caught a whiff of Research. He didn't smile, snigger or anything, he just looked Research, narrowed his eyes and in a stern voice that left no room for questions said,
"Follow me." Research meekly lowered her head and followed, leaving a slightly puzzled Rough Analysis and the sound of a hyperventilating Clef behind them.
*
We need to be calm, it's her first day. Right Order reminded himself, She's new and it was an accident, granted one that shouldn't have happened, but an accident none the less. Right Order glared at the mare in front of him, she had her head down so most of her face was hidden behind her brown locks. He sighed and rubbed his temples.
"Clearly the experiment was too much to handle." Research didn't say anything,
"It was simple, follow Dr. Clef's instructions and then report to me for a debriefing." Research's head went lower, Order sighed again,
"While it was a small transgression it is one that could have had disastrous consequences, if you had come in contact with a cadaver..." Order shuddered.
"However, as it is your first time and your first day, I am willing to have some leniency." Ah, that got her to raise her head a bit.
"In addition to your regular duties to Dr. Rights you will be demoted to level 0 until further notice." Research's ears visibly picked up,
"Should Dr. Rights require you to handle or have any contact with an SCP, I am to be informed and should I allow it, you will be granted temporary access only to that SCP. Only Dr. Rights shall have that privilege and no-one else. Now I expect a report on SCP-447, a description of what transpired and a daily report to be delivered to both Dr. Rights and I. You may go." Order watched as Research got up and left, with her head a little higher than when she had entered. After she had gone Right Order smiled and a small giggle left his mouth,
"Minty. "
*
Despite the lenient punishment from Right Order, Lime Research's day had got progressively worse. Everywhere she went Research could hear stifled sniggers as she walked past, a few Researchers had even got it into their heads that her name was Minty. Dr. Clef had done nothing to discourage it; even Dr. Rights had caught herself occasionally calling Research 'Minty'. Research had spent several hours trying to get the mint smell off her coat in the hopes that it might stop what was now becoming a nickname; unfortunately it was still there several hours later. The only one who appeared to be even vaguely compassionate was Dr. Bright, however, Research still felt uncomfortable around him, especially with the way he kept grinning at her. Research sighed as she sat down at a cafeteria table with her garden salad. It had been a long day, she put her head in her hooves, Will I ever get rid of this smell? She lifted her head when she heard the sound of a tray being placed opposite her. A small grey pony sat down and nodded at Research, acknowledging her existence before starting to eat his sandwich.
"Hello?" Research felt that it would be impolite to not at least attempt to converse,
"Hello Ms. Research." The grey pony replied. Research felt a little put off as this pony clearly knew her name but she had no idea who he was.
"I am Dr. Gears. I heard about your unfortunate accident and wish to assure you that the residual effect of SCP-447-1 has been known to dissipate after a few days." Research didn't quite know what to think; somehow this small pony had not only delivered the best news of today, but had done so in the most unemotional way possible, as if he was reading a manual. She realised she was staring at Gears with her mouth open, she quickly closed it.
"Th-Thank you."
"You're welcome." Gears continued eating his sandwich. Research didn't know why, but it was somewhat comforting as they sat in silence eating their meals. It allowed her to reflect on her day, which had quite definitely been full of surprises. Dr. Rights will probably be wondering where I am now, as she got up to leave Dr. Gears looked up from his meal.
"Congratulations on your first day." Research just smiled.
Dr. Heavy Rust awoke to the tang of metal in his mouth. Lifting up his head, he groaned as a dull ache in his head indicated that his method of sleep was not voluntary. Cracking an eye open he took surveillance of the area around him. He appeared to be in a dimly lit sewer, the dried mould on the concrete floor appeared to be the only indication that water once flowed. The only light source were dim red emergency lights placed in intervals along the concrete wall, along which ran several pipes. The ceiling was no different from the floor except for the occasional drops of water coming from the many pipes that twisted and wound around each other all along the ceiling. Rust couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he had seen something similar before.
Rust lifted himself onto his haunches to get a better view of his surroundings. While the light was enough to see the immediate area around him, it painted everything in a dull red glow. Rust could barely make out the floor two meters away and from what he could see it looked exactly the same as where he was currently situated. Carefully turning his head he wasn't surprised to find that the expanse behind him looked exactly the same as it did in front. The same light illuminating the same area with the same pipes running along the walls and the ceiling. A drop of water fell from one of the pipes above and landed on the back of his neck, causing him to shiver. Not from the cold, but rather from the lack of life, something in the air felt...not 'dead' but rather like there was a distinct lack of 'life'; the air was too still.
In an attempt to discern where he might be Rust tried to recall all he could before waking up. He had been helping to set up for the annual Nightmare Night party, Dr. Research had found some decorations from last year and had requested that he pick them up. He had planned to pick them up after seeing if there had been any changes to SCP-2102's condition and then...nothing. The only thing he could recall was the sensation of 'cold'. Pulling himself onto his hooves Rust looked around for any possible sign of an entrance or at least a sign of how he had come to be where he was. Looking at the ground for a sign of disturbance Rust found nothing other than the shadows of long dead mould. Deciding that waiting for an answer that would likely never eventuate was pointless he reasoned that he should try to locate an exit by himself. Lifting his hoof up Rust tried to create a notch in the cement wall to act as a marker. He tried this for several minutes and even with his Earth pony strength behind him, he barely managed to make a nick in the unyielding wall. Sighing in defeat, Rust turned and picked a direction to set off in.
The only sound, other than the occasional dripping of water from one of the many pipes, was that of Rust's hoof steps as he walked down a seemingly endless sewer. Each light he passed seemed exactly the same as the previous and each set of pipes seemed identical. Time seemed non-existent. The only break in the monotony of the sewer came when he encountered a fork. Looking down both directions Rust could see no difference, the same red light and plumbing extended down both of them. Picking right he figured that should the right direction prove the same or end he could always turn around and come back.
It wasn't until much later that Rust started to notice a change on the walls. The rusted pipes no longer only clung to the top of the wall but seemed to slowly migrate down the walls as well. Each 'new' pipe looking exactly like all the others; the same corroded lead colouring some even seemed to have the same cracks and dents in the casing. Every so often some kind of liquid would ooze from one of the cracks, slowly dripping down the wall until it made the dripping sound Rust had been hearing since he awoke. The throbbing in the back of his head hadn't dulled like he hoped but rather had persisted, making it difficult to focus on anything other than leaving the damnable maze.
Rust almost walked passed the door if it wasn't for the slight shadow cast by the red emergency light. The door itself was blended quite well into the wall but was indented slightly, seeming made out of the same materials as the sewer as it had the same colour and feel as the walls. The pipes, which by now almost encompassed the entire sewer bar the floor, snaked around the door as if to frame it. "Finally. An exit." Rust sighed. He winced as a sharp pain laced his throat, it felt like hours had passed since he spoke and his voice sounded nothing like he was used to; it sounded scratchy and horse. He decided it was probably for the best if he refrained from speaking, at least until he could get some fresh water or a medical doctor to look at his throat. Walking up and turning the handle of the door, Rust cautiously opened the door. If working for the Foundation had taught him anything, it was caution.
The only light source in the room was that of the emergency light outside, making it difficult to make out anything other than distinct shapes. It seemed that there was little need for any light as the room lacked anything of note. The interior was made of the same unidentifiable concrete as the sewer; there were patches of dirt in odd places strewn around the floor as well as a blackened pile of goo in the far corner. Unable to quell his curiosity Rust made his way to the black goo making sure to keep as much of the meagre light illuminating the room as possible. As he bent down to inspect the viscous mass, Rust noticed something sticking out of the goo. Carefully he poked it with the tip of his hoof, it was hard. His curiosity now piqued, Rust pulled the object out of the goo causing a sickening sound as the object was released from the goo's hold. Rust gasped and let the object fall back into the puddle with a squelch, turning quickly he ran out of the room looking down both ends of the sewer. Unable to remember which direction he came from he picked on and galloped down it, his eyes looking at every nook and cranny for movement, his ears swivelling around searching for any sound other than his hoof beats and the sound of dripping. Back in the room the black goo reclaimed the jawbone that had been pried free with a satisfied 'shloop' sound.
The initial panic had worn off a while ago, however now he knew where he was and probably why the back of his head still hurt. 'The Old Stallion', designated SCP-106. He wasn't sure when it had grabbed him; all he knew was that now he was here he had to keep moving. 106 rarely let its prey go; when it did it was usually because they were insane or completely broken. 106 liked games; its favourite was Cat and Mouse. It's no fun if the mouse is already broken. There had been a few, the rare few, that had come back, usually missing a few limbs, but relatively sane. From their reports the best way to try to survive was to keep moving, take sharp turns and not to stop. That was important, never stop. No matter what you heard, saw, felt or thought, keep moving.
Rust's ears picked up at a sound. He wasn't sure what it was or even if he had heard it, either way he picked up speed. He had passed another door a while ago but had kept moving, leave whatever poor soul is in there to their rest. The pipes had grown thicker now, growing over themselves in a constant effort for more room, effectively making the sewer tighter. Not sewer, Rust corrected himself, 106's lair, his own personal dimension. 106 was god here. Rust's ears picked up a sound again. This time he was sure he heard it, a short scuffle of a hoof. Rust picked up speed, in doing so his gaskin grazed one of the pipes. Searing pain raced through his back leg, ignoring the pain he continued running. All that raced through his head was the thought of survival and the dull endless throbbing in the back of his head.
He was limping now. The adrenaline had worn off and the pain in the back of his leg hit him full force. A quick inspection of where the pain was located had informed him that his left back leg muscle had been eaten away as if by an acid, the leg almost completely unusable. He could still move it, albeit in an awkward dragging hobble. He needed to rest, he knew that 106 would end the game if it grew bored but he had to risk it the pain was too much. The pain from his leg was crippling, compounded with the exhaustion from running and the pain in his head, Rust needed to rest.
The door swung open as Rust leaned on the handle, collapsing as the door gave way. He had no idea how long he had been walking for, time had no meaning here after all, but he was tired beyond what he believed to be possible. No even bothering to look around the room he found himself in he dragged himself into a corner, giving his injured leg a brief reprieve as it no longer needed to support Rust's weight. Arranging himself so that he could keep an eye on the open door, Rust lay on his stomach, his bad leg splayed out behind while his good legs were curled up beneath him. This way, he reasoned, should something come along he would be ready to run. Despite his best efforts to keep himself alert, he was asleep within minutes.
Cold. Cold and wet. Rust's eyes shot open. His back was cold and wet. Snapping his head around, his eyes widened as he took in the spectacle before him. From a black puddle in the wall extruded an appendage that could only by barest definitions be defined as a 'hoof'. It looked like someone had dug up a decades-old corpse and had broken every bone in the legs, only to give it to a foal with some glue and told them to piece it back together. The angles were all wrong and the muscles hanging off it were rotted with pieces missing, thin stands of sinew barely held them onto the bone. The hoof itself was chipped all over and oozed a black substance that mostly covered the leg. The most disturbing thing was not its appearance, but rather that it was the cause of Rust's discomfort. The hoof was stroking his back, slowly and methodically. Not unlike how a predator would patronize its meal before eating it. Each stroke left a trail of the black ooze along Rust's back, he watched as some of the ooze slid down his rump with a tingling sensation. With a startled yelp Rust scrambled out from under the grotesque hoof, wincing as he put weight on his injured leg. In a matter of seconds Rust had run out of the room and down the main part of the sewer.
Rust couldn't keep it up anymore. The constant game of 'cat and mouse' had finally won him over. He was exhausted, sleep deprived and hungry. Having eaten nothing since he arrived, however long ago that was. Time had lost all meaning with nothing but emergency lights, pipes and the constant dripping of liquids to keep Rust company. Sleep was impossible; the last time he had attempted to sleep he woke up with 106's hoof stroking his mane. To make matters worse the black ooze that 106 leached from its body was corrosive, as he found out when he wiped away some off him after his first encounter. His coat was now matted and in some cases, like his back, muscles could be clearly seen, the blood having congealed quickly thanks to the slow dissolving of the ooze. His limp hadn't got any better and, thanks to accidentally using a pipe for support in an instance where he was too tired to stand, he now sported a limp in his right foreleg, the pipe having eaten away at the muscles. He looked nothing like he had when he first woke up.
Stumbling through the doorway Rust collapsed on the floor. His entire body screamed out in exhaustion and pain, he couldn't do it anymore. 106 had won, it had worn him down, deprived him of sleep and any form of nutrition. Here on the cold concrete floor he would sleep and never wake up. Rust sighed deeply, he always knew he would die by an SCP, what he had hoped was that it would at least be quick.
Rust gave the room a quick look around, since this room was to be his final resting place he felt he should at least see what it held. Like many of the other rooms he had encountered this had a couple of furnishings, but nothing to indicate actual residence. There was a small side table knocked on its side in the far corner of the room covered in the goo Rust now associated with victims of 106. There was a bookcase off to the side devoid of any books, Rust doubted there ever were any books in it. It was probably 106 mocking a former victim with the idea that there were others in this forsaken place. As he made his last look around the room Rust noticed that something seemed...off. Wincing as pain shot down the back of his neck, Rust lifted his head off the ground in an effort to get a better view of what might be causing the sense of unease.
He spotted it off in the corner, the same colour and texture of the rest of the room, was a door. The door blended almost seamlessly with the rest of the room, the only telltale sign was the door handle, which was inconspicuous even on its own. If he hadn't been looking for it he would have missed it. This was it. Ignoring the sharp, stabbing pains from his body, Rust slowly rose to his hooves and hobbled towards the door. This would be his final hope for an escape, while he had resigned himself to his fate it didn't stop him from hoping and the prospect of an exit from this maddening realm was all the motivation he needed. Rust grasped the handle firmly in his mouth, no matter what lay on the other side, death or salvation, he would accept it. Rust grit his teeth and opened the door.
Light poured out of the room causing Rust to shield his eyes with what could once be called a foreleg. The light, while not blinding, was brighter than the sewer that he had become accustomed to. As his eyes adjusted, Rust began taking in the new room and how it differed from every other room he had been in. The biggest surprise was this room had a rug and paintings hung on babouche coloured walls depicting various sceneries. There was a lamp in the corner of the room providing it with a majority of the light, there was even a coffee table in the centre with chairs around it and magazines stacked on it. In contrast to the decrepit and hopeless feel of the rooms coming off the sewer, this one felt almost homely. Rust became aware of a 'clicking' noise coming from one of the chairs. In it sat a decrepit old man solely focused on his knitting, he seemed to be halfway through some kind of jumper. Rust had little doubt as to what was sitting in the chair, but there was something strikingly familiar about it. Stepping closer to get a better look and trying to ignore that the jumper appeared to be knitted out of something remarkably similar to horse hair, Rust gasped and stumbled back as he recognised the visage of what was sitting before him. His mind was spun, sitting there was the one who used to read him stories before bed. The one who first sparked his interest in science. "Grandfather?"
The light flickered, once again illuminating the stark white tiled hallway in its dim glow.
Posy leaned against the wall in an effort to catch her breath. To her it seemed as if she had been running for hours. She spun around to look behind her, swearing she heard a sound. Seeing nothing she breathed a sigh of relief. Posy wasn't sure how long she had been running, it was easy to loose track of time in a place where all the hallways are the same and the people working in it seemed to have a strange aversion to clocks. The blearing siren didn't help either, its modulating pitch setting Posy's teeth on edge. She guessed she had a few minutes before the thing found her and then the game of cat-and-mouse would begin again. It wasn't too long ago that she was living a happy, innocent life in Van Hoover with her fiancée...and yet for her it was another lifetime. Now her life consisted of strange objects and running away from this thing. A prolonged scream cut through Posy's thoughts, she swore and started running away from where the sound had come from. Had she stayed she would have eventually heard a distinctive crunch.
The hall light flickered again.
Posy cursed whoever had installed the lights; she did not need this right now. She smiled when she spotted the turn-off, shooting down it with a new found burst of energy before stopping in front of a pair of pneumatic doors. She had made it. Her ears swivelled around as she heard a sound, not unlike concrete hitting tiles. She spun around to face the thing. She knew why it was hunting her; while it hunted everything she knew why it was targeting her specifically. All because she and a few other had decided to conduct their own experiment; what would happen if you covered it in its own excrement? She knew it was stupid and wrong but at the time she just wanted to 'hurt' the thing that all those scientists coveted, she just wanted to lash out. Now karma was coming around in the worst way.
The light flickered.
Posy could see it now, standing at the end of the hallway, cutting off anyway out. Her only hope was the doors behind her. Before she had turned around she had caught a glimpse of a panel, if she could smash that the door might...
The light flickered again.
"Horseapples." Couldn't the lights at least be consistent like in the horror movies she used to watch, every pony knew that the lights only flickered in ten to twenty minute intervals. That way the protagonist had time to think of a plan and set it up. Posy's eyes were hurting from the strain of trying not to blink. Luckily she was a staring contest champion, at least in her junior school, she could even outstare cats. Posy recalled when she thought that she one day might get her cutie mark in staring, that would have been funny. She realised she was panicking now.
The light flickered.
The thing was now halfway between her and the end of the hallway. The one thing she needed to do now was to stop panicking, she needed to think. Not taking her eyes off the thing, she sat on her rump and rubbed the side of her head with her forelegs. She needed a plan, she needed to think. Posy moved her hoof to just below the base of her horn and started rubbing, it was a habit she had formed over the years. Then she felt it, or rather the lack of. A true smile graced her face for the first time years; in all the commotion her limiter had fallen off. The one thing that they use to stop unicorns from utilizing magic and it had fallen off. Posy stood up, her eyes unblinking and never leaving the thing's hideous visage. Those stupid scientists only ever think about containing the abominations, they had probably never thought about blowing it up. Her grin grew as she charged her horn; she had finally beaten the damn thing. The only thing she had forgotten is that while low level spells like levitation require eye contact, they're low level. Higher level spells like matter manipulation and destructive spells, a lot like what Posy was casting, require a significant amount of concentration. Significant; to the point where you tune out everything except for the spell. To help accomplish this most unicorns learn early on that 'shutting out' a sensory input can help greatly in this, usually that sensory input is the eyes.
Posy was no different.
Posy opened her eyes as she felt a pressure on her neck. She screamed as the first thing she saw was the face of that...thing. While incomplete she let loose what little of the spell she had, the magic slid off it like oil on water. Posy couldn't believe it, nothing could do that. It went against the established laws of magic; it changed how the universe worked completely.
Too late Posy worked out why those 'stupid scientists' were interested in it.
Posy screamed out of a primal urge to let the herd know one of their own was in trouble. Posy screamed out of fear for her life. Posy screamed in the vague hope that if she was loud enough the thing would let her go. Posy screamed, her eyes never leaving that terrible visage of certain death.