Chapter Text
The blond sat in the seemingly normal apartment, again seemingly. The "researchers" only made it this way to make them more comfortable, yeah right. As if being in a prison which appeared to be a half decent room would make it any less a prison. With the researchers seemingly gone, the blond slowly got out of the bed, and started to look around the apartment, searching for anything that could possibly be of use, or at least a way out. A voice came over the intercom after a static cacophony, "SCP 2118, what do you think you're doing?" The blond rolled his eyes before rolling his eyes. "Not my name, I thought we established this." He was absolutely terrified of these people, but he never acted as such. Never show people your feelings, that was his older sibling's motto anyways. His sibling. The one who'd also been taken that day. The day that he'd been kidnapped and brought to this horrid place. The voice came back over the intercom. "Grayson, I'd watch your mouth." Stupid researchers never got it did they? Not even after 9 years in this place. "Also not my fucking name, damn it. If you're gonna keep me in here for gods forever then you might as well learn my name, Purpled. It Purpled. I don't care what's on the little file you have." The blond, Purpled, wasn't allowed to speak typically anyways, however he was allowed to speak to the researcher on the intercom. That researcher lacked a child who'd died, sometimes he wished the other had. Maybe then they'd get a fraction of a taste of their own medicine. You see, Purpled could mimic the last words of a dead child if the parent of said dead child was conversing with him, traumatizing them incredibly. Good, they all fucking deserved it. "Well, I'm sorry but you will be called whatever the hell the foundation wishes, you lack rights here and we both know that." The intercom carried an annoyed voice into the room. The researchers, for their part, were extremely well trained in the ways of not responding to obvious attempts to get under their skin. While this did not make them any less susceptible to being irritated by the child's words and actions, it did mean that they were good at hiding their irritation. This researcher had been the least experienced member of the team, so he was the most susceptible to such attacks. The others had the experience and self control to be able to take his insults or mocking tones with equanimity. It was, after all, a job requirement. Purpled sat on the futon provided by the researchers. He didn't give two fucks about what the "foundation" wished. He was a person damn it, not some lab rat. The blond was about to speak, but the intercom abruptly went out before he got the chance to speak. The voice of a man could be heard in the distance, but it was difficult to make out. The blond was left alone in the apartment, with neither researcher nor voice to keep him company. He absolutely despised these people, but he hated being alone. It made him think of the past. Before the tests and such. Almost a decade in here and yet these memories were vivid. He thought about when he and his sibling used to bicker, it was annoying at the time but he'd give anything to speak to them again. Purpled knew they were here. He just knew. Purpled was right in his assumption. His sibling was here, but they didn't know it due to the same precautions that Purpled was put through, if not more so. The researchers had no intention of telling them about each other. There was no use in doing so. They were simply here to be contained and researched. That was the entire point of this entire facility after all.
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Two floors down, another blond walked around a padded cell. "I thought solitary confinement was for prisons, not for scientific research facilities." He mumbled to himself. He knew the researchers could hear him. The researchers did indeed hear everything that he said. They had microphones in the walls, in the floors, and in some cases even directly above the prisoner's heads. They heard everything. Of course, they didn't directly tell the "subjects" that. There was no reason for them to know that their privacy had been fully violated, now was there? The blond in the padded cell rolled his eyes. "I suppose you're all just itching to run more tests on me, are you? That's why I'm back in this room again, right? I thought we did this one last week." He was certainly a smartass, but the researchers thought it was better than having him be as hostile as he usually was. To be put in this sort of situation was an extreme violation of his personal privacy and freedoms in his eyes. He would not submit to any sort of procedure without a fight. That's why he wasn't allowed human contact without proper restraints. The metal door appeared to unlock. Yet nobody came through. The subject's eyes narrowed in suspicion. He knew someone was there. But they wouldn't come through the door. Either they were scared or he was being set up. A voice came from the intercom. Great way to give away their surveillance of the confined subject, idiots. "Tommy, get in the damn room." A sardonic smirk formed on the blond's face. "So, their name is Tommy? "Come on, don't tell me you sent a newbie in here to die, remember the last guy." He said to the invisible security guard. The person on the other side of the door, Tommy was indeed new. A young guard, only really just turned 18, only a second week on the job, who was petrified of SCP 8588. 8588 sounded awfully human, and had an infamous history of violence. All he was ordered to do was walk in, shoot a dart, and hurry the fuck out of the room. Right as he gained enough courage to shift his grip on the gun, a shrill alarm rung out. The alarm system boomed. "CONTAINMENT BREACH"