Recursive's Talebox


Unsorted Tales

For tales that aren't attached to any series that I am writing. Tales attached to specific series may be found below.


rating: 0+x

"…coming to yet?"

"…listening? Can you hear me?"

"Oh, thank god, you're awake. At least I'm not alone here.

"'What happened?' You don't remember? Well, you took a pretty bad hit to the head from the looks of it, so I guess I can forgive you for that. There was a breach. A big one. I'm not sure if anyone 'cept us is left alive in the site.

"Hey, take it easy, it already left this floor. For now, at least. We just have to wait for help, there's an MTF on their way. Just stay put. …Er, not that either of us could go anywhere. Ceiling's collapsed by the stairwell, and the elevator's totaled.

"Who am I? Man, you must have taken a really bad hit to the head. Don't worry about it though, I'll remind you. Heh, we've got some time to kill anyway."




I was… twelve, that's how old I was when it happened. I was living with my mom— Dad was out of the picture. She was all I had, but I didn't mind. We were happy.

Then one day this building that wasn't there before just… showed up. Right down the street from our house, in a pretty bad part of the city. My mom warned me to leave it well alone, but I was a nosy kid, and I would always watch it.

About this time, my mom started seeing a new guy. He was charming, and he… he reminded her a lot of my dad. But that's about all that was good about him. Every time she brought him over, he was a drunk mess. He'd get mad, or crazy, and yammer on about 'Em-Tee-Effs' or 'Yoo-Clids' or 'Ess-Ee-Peas'. But my mom was already head over heels for him- she trusted too easily.

Then one day, I think something happened that wasn't supposed to. That building down the street that I mentioned earlier? Something… came out of it, and the whole neighborhood went into chaos. I hid in my room for most of it, but I could still hear gunshots, and yelling, and…

But anyway, it calmed down after a while, and I went downstairs. My mom… Something was wrong with her. She just sat straight up in her chair, staring out the window. I stayed with her the rest of the day, but nothing changed. Towards sunset, her new boyfriend came over. Even then, he stunk like booze. Mumbled something into his walkie-talkie about a 'cog-neato-hazard'. He took my mom, didn't even seem to notice that I was there.

When two of the MTF agents brought her back later that night, she was unconscious. I hid when they came in— I thought they'd killed her— But I listened to what they were saying. One of 'em asked how something got out of containment in the first place. The other said that someone came in drunk, and fucked up really bad. Apparently they weren't sure who it was, but I knew. I knew exactly who it was.

Mom was a wreck after that. She couldn't remember anything about that day. That was scary to me on it's own, but it wasn't the only thing. She was always shaking, would wake up screaming in the night. It got to where she could barely take care of herself. Of course, I know now it was the cognitohazard. There's just some things the Foundation can't fix.

Her boyfriend didn't show up anymore. I went to the building to try and find him, but it was deserted. He left us a broken mess, like we were just supposed to move on.

She didn't last much longer. It was like she was getting ten years older every day, and what was I supposed to do? I was twelve. Towards the end, she couldn't even get out of bed. On her last day, it was like something changed. She knew it was her time. Just before she went, she grabbed my arm- her grip was like steel- and she sat straight up, like she was possessed. She said to me:

'Find him. Make him pay for this. For the both of us. I want the last thing he sees, before you gouge out his eyes, to be your face. So he'll finally have to face what he's done.'

Crazy, right?

It took me a few years to pull myself together. I was still just a kid, so that's understandable. I went around asking questions that normal people didn't know the answer to. What's a cognitohazard? What's a euclid or an MTF?

Finally, some kindhearted people took me in. They didn't have all the answers I wanted, but they had some of them. And food, they had that too.

I worked with them for a couple years, helping people who'd fallen victim to similar circumstances. You'd think maybe seeing all those people with problems like mine- worse than mine would make me appreciate what I did have, maybe make me give up on my mom's last request, right?

Nope.

I gave all I had to Manna, I really did. But the whole time, I felt like I was chasing a shadow. His shadow. I started to listen to the whispers of the people who'd worked at Manna for longer than I had, and I finally got a name.

SCP Foundation.

I knew as soon as I heard it, that's what I'm really looking for.

One day, we happened to be providing relief to a village in Africa after a pretty nasty event. One of the Foundation's MTFs was there as well- they contained the anomaly which caused it. We decided to pool our efforts, and before you know it I was bandaging up the arm of the MTF's commander. You know what he says to me?

'We could use a few more people like you in the Foundation, friend.'

A couple months and a metric fuckton of paperwork later, I'm a janitor at a small Foundation site in Canada. I was nervous that they'd find something in their background checks, but if they did, I never heard about it. Besides, I was a janitor, I doubt they were that concerned.

I floated through for a while- mostly low level positions, janitorial, cafeteria, et cetera, et cetera- until I wound up on this Site right here. Now, I'd learned from my street urchin days that everybody's got a story to tell. So I'd started breaking bread with some the D-Classes. You'd be surprised how insightful some of them are, for being… well, y'know, mostly violent criminals.

One time, on my lunch break, there were two of 'em talking about one doctor in particular, who matched the description of someone I've been looking for. Apparently, he even used to be the member of an MTF. You know who I'm talking about, I'm sure. Said he was a jackass, too. Had a pretty nasty drinking habit that he'd been reprimanded for, and wasn't too hung up on chucking the D's into the wood chipper. I caught a glimpse of him later that week, and I knew I had my man.

Honestly, I wasn't sure if I still wanted to do it. Now that I'd seen how crazy the world really is, could I blame him for being a drunk asshole? Besides, even if I tried something, I wouldn't get away with it. Security is a pretty big deal in the Foundation, after all. And… I don't mind working here.

Y'know what I decided on doing? I was going to confront him. I've let this revenge thing eat at me, until there wasn't anything left. I didn't have to forgive him, but I was going to make him acknowledge what he did.

Tonight was the night. I was scheduled to clean the hallway outside his office. Was on my way there, when I heard the alarms. I barely even had time to react before the ground started to shake. It tore through the wall, roaring like an explosion. Then came the gunfire, and the guards yelling. Somehow, I got slammed into the wall. And that's all I remembered.



"…And that's how I ended up here. No idea how I survived, everyone else got torn to pieces. I must have just slipped between its claws. When I came to, I was laying in a puddle of… well, look around, you can piece together that part of the story.

"As soon as I felt up to walking, I started checking for any survivors. That's when I saw his— that is to say… your office door busted in. You were in pretty bad shape, but I managed to dig you out of the rubble.

"Hah, you remember me now, huh?

"I know I said earlier that I changed my mind about revenge, but… It's crazy right? Here we are again, after a containment breach again, and you still stink like booze. Not to mention… No one else seems to be around.

"Hey, I wouldn't try to struggle too hard, your leg is broken. You're not going to get away, not this time. The MTF won't suspect a thing when they get here. What's another broken body in the pile of corpses to them?

"I've… I've waited a long time for this. I've dreamed about it, but there were times when I thought it would never happen. But this has taken long enough. Let's get it over with.

"I'm sorry I took so long, Mom."








If Only in My Dreams

Just put this here so I wouldn't have to scroll up so far while previewing.




Note: Foundation Gothic is in your backburner pastebin.