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Most people in high school found a hobby or a subject they excelled in. Found something to base their life around. Some found nothing and would find that later in life in other activities. Some enjoyed filmmaking, while others loved art.
In high school, Techno was a witness to a monster killing a random stranger.
He was across the street, going to the store. It was almost night time and he was getting antsy. Techno happened to look across the street at the wrong time. He was at the wrong place, and the wrong time, and he was witness to a monster lunging at a human.
They were torn apart, piece by piece.
It was the single most traumatizing part of his high school years.
Later, he would desperately search for answers, about why such a thing existed, and why had no one stopped it?
After a few weeks of searching, he found a particular government website. The SCP Foundation, the securing and containing monsters like the one he had met.
After his discovery he still went to school— still went on with his life. Nothing stopped just because one person was dead.
One day for no apparent reason he was called to the office.
When he showed up, there was a man in a suit waiting for him. His eyes were cold, unfeeling, and he offered him an ultimatum.
The man worked for the SCP Foundation he had researched into. And this was his ultimatum: either he would be killed for his knowledge, or he would work for the foundation when he graduated. He would stay at the foundation for four months at a time and would be given a month of time to stay with family three times a year.
With nothing going for him, what reason did he have to say no? A rampant urge to die?
Well, everyone had that.
But he didn’t want to die some nameless kid no one cared about.
The kid agreed, and his fate was sealed.
His first day working for them was hell.
His family had been deeply worried for him when he’d announced he would be unable to contact them for four months and then would be unable to tell them about his new job.
It was a long drive to their base of operations, and he had to bring everything with him in his tiny car.
The Foundation was rich in space, so all workers had their own rooms. It was nice.
On his first day, he was to report to a higher-up to get his assignment. When one was first recruited, they were usually assigned to a fairly docile SCP to test them. Some stayed with them forever if they were either too terrible at the job, or too good that the SCP got too attached and would kill anyone other than them entering the room. It was really a terrible middle ground you had to find to get promoted.
His higher-up signaled him in and handed him the basic files of his first assignment.
SCP: Ph1LzA
Can have knowledge of anything that happens within a mile of his body. Has wings on his back, though has never been seen using them.
Very docile when emotionally connected with those assigned to him. Has a history of killing those assigned to him.
It was fairly short, but already Techno realized his first assignment could be his downfall. If he couldn’t get the SCP to like him enough to not kill him, well, that’d be it.
A random red stain on the floor would be all that was left of him.
He ended up asking for a few days of watching others interacting with the monster.
Techno watched as many people came into its territory and acted like they were better than it because they were its supposed keeper.
Given how moments after that, their throats were torn out, the SCP obviously didn’t have much patience either.
As the day went on he began feeling less and less as he watched other people, new recruits just like him, dying.
It was their fault obviously; they were taking the wrong approach.
One survived for a few hours and made the mistake of boring it. You have to make sure to keep the SCP entertained.
Another learned from their mistake and entertained it but forgot to connect emotionally with it and died.
Tomorrow, it would be his turn.
And tomorrow, all the blood on the ground would be gone.
“Hello!” He said as he entered the room. There was a small smile on his face as he walked towards the SCP. It looked more human than the one he had seen previously.
It had short blond hair and bright blue eyes. From the window he had watched through before, he hadn’t quite taken in the monster’s sheer size.
It towered over him, a strange look in its eyes.
The SCP stared at his pink hair with an odd look in its eyes. His gamble had worked out for the best it seemed, the night before he had wandered around the nearby town and found some pink hair dye and asked around if there was anyone in the Foundation who knew how to dye hair.
All in all, it was amazing that he got it all done in one night.
Now with bright pink hair, the SCP definitely viewed him as different from the others.
With a real smile of victory, Techno began to work at worming his way into the monster’s heart.
“How are you doing?” he asked. The notes hadn’t said whether or not it could talk, and everyone else was too dead to answer any questions regarding it.
It tilted its head at him, staring at him for a moment before its jaw snapped downwards and began to speak.
“It’s been alright in my cage, how has yours been?”
For a moment, shock overran any other response he could have had. With a seed of panic sneaking into his voice, he shakily responded. “I’ve been okay, I just got hired here two days ago, so it’s been stressful.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, they didn’t explain anything, and my family’s worried.”
Philza seemed to lose interest in the concept of him having a family, so in a grab for its attention, Techno made a mistake that would hold him back for years.
He lied.
“Yeah, uh, my dad died a few months ago so it’s been stressful,” he felt like he should’ve looked away from it by now, but it hadn’t blinked yet and god it was terrifying.
“Your father is gone?”
Already regretting everything, Techno quietly nodded.
Philza had a determined fire in its eyes.
“I shall take care of you then.”
Techno was the most recent of those to truly get an SCP attached to them.
Philza started to fuss all about him like a worried mother. It was getting worrying just how far the SCP was going for the fatherly act. It hadn’t acted like this for anyone else, so there were no set precedents for what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to ignore it and continue with his job? Or was he supposed to encourage it?
But he knew, in a few weeks time, he would’ve either gone too far and gotten Philza too attached or he’d be promoted.
A week passed, and nothing changed.
Philza was learning to smile back at him and was throwing his mannerisms back at him. It had picked up some of Techno’s slang and started getting really touchy-feely.
Every day it gave him a hug, and they were getting longer and longer.
(When would Philza accidentally squeeze too hard and kill him? When would it listen to him suffocate and think it was him laughing?)
He’d stopped sleeping lately.
The idiot had been reading the files of some of the nearby SCPs and had, instead of feeling prepared, was hit by a feeling of intense paranoia.
An SCP literally one room over was the current worry of his paranoia.
Wilbur Soot
Can pull anything that hears its voice into a trance, never kills anyone but keeps them around for its amusement.
Document signed and written by: Deo, Time.
He couldn’t tell if it was auditory hallucinations from being awake too long or if the vague cries he had been hearing were from the SCP.
Maybe, he was beginning to regret looking into the Foundation.
Maybe, he could’ve been happy with some random job at McDonald’s and laughing with his family.
Maybe people just die sometimes to monsters, and you’re not supposed to question it.
Maybe, he’d never be promoted.
Maybe, he’d be stuck with Philza’s weird parenting forever.
(Would that be so bad?)
Everything went wrong one day during his lunch break.
Lunch was normally a quiet affair as no one in the Foundation really talked to one another. There was a single person per SCP or a few people for the more difficult ones, so most people didn’t have much to talk about. And if you did manage to make friends in the Foundation, you didn’t talk to anyone but those friends.
And you wouldn’t talk to them in the cafeteria.
So, it was quiet when everything went to shit.
Alarms began to blare, and everyone abandoned any connections they might have had.
They all knew what those alarms meant.
SCPs have escaped their containment.
It didn’t explain if it was just one, or all of them.
So, no one trusted anyone and went off on their own. Everyone wanted to get out as fast as possible.
Knowing the routes would be filled with panicked workers and bloodthirsty SCPs, Techno ran to the back of the kitchen. Along the way he grabbed a kitchen knife.
For a long time, he sat in the darkness holding onto his knife, praying nothing would come near here.
For a long time, there was silence. Then, footsteps began to approach. They were assured of where they stepped, absolutely sure of where they were going. And they were heading right to him.
Panic flooded him as he covered his mouth, struggling not to breathe too loud in his panic. As the door creaked open, Techno began to pray, hoping his family wouldn’t miss him too badly.
As a shadow stood in the doorway, Techno was too petrified to look.
“Techno?”
At the familiar voice, Techno let out a relieved breath of air. “Philza?” It smiled down at him and reached down to comfort him.
For now, he let it.
After he was calmed down, he convinced Philza to tell him what was going on outside.
“Many are dying, but you won’t. A lot of others that escaped are causing chaos but many aren’t won’t hurt you, we could use them to get out?”
Huh, Philza was right. They could probably use some of the weaker types to get out.
“Alright,” he agreed. “So where to?”
They began a journey of the Foundation, trying to find one specific SCP that Philza apparently really liked.
As they continued on, Techno was losing more and more of his patience. Before he was about to say something about it, they stumbled upon an SCP. It was the most human-like he had seen so far. It was a child with blond hair and blue eyes.
Surprisingly, Philza and the kid looked quite alike.
It was probably nothing.
“This is Tommy, he is also my responsibility, just like you.”
Well, wasn’t that alarming.
Before Philza’s declaration, Tommy had looked at him with suspicion and the vague bloodthirst most SCPs had when looking at humans, but now he seemed to trust him implicitly. What kind of influence did Philza have on the kid to create that kind of bond?
(Some dark corner of his mind wondered how he could use this to get out of this awful situation. If hurting Tommy would make Philza leave him alone, if he could finally move up in the world with the sacrifice of one monster.)
He vaguely waved to Tommy, seeing a whisper of hero-worship in his eyes. Techno began to look around the room they had found Tommy in. It seemed like it was the surrounding room outside of the container for an SCP. Judging by how they found Tommy there, it was most likely his.
The first thing on his agenda was to find any left behind notes about Tommy, to see if he had any abilities that could be used.
After a few minutes, he managed to find it. As most of the documents in the facility, it wasn’t very long, so he could hopefully read it without Tommy noticing.
Tommy Innit
Anything it believes becomes reality, through experimentation we’ve found out that when it knows of its powers they become null and no longer work. If it becomes too strong, convince it of its powers, and they will disappear.
Easy to manipulate.
Document signed and written by: Tubbo.
Unlike most of the monsters in the facility, Tommy had a power that could truly destroy the world. And all that power was stuck in a body that looked like a young British teenager.
He even acted like one, too. Judging by how he didn’t know of his powers, did he even know he wasn’t human? Had he convinced himself of his status as a human and made it true?
There were too many questions to answer for now.
For now, Techno put the paper back where it was and smiled at the boy. The phrase “Easy to manipulate” repeating in his head.
“Hey, Tommy!” He began, feeling Philza’s gaze on his back. Whether or not it would approve of his tactic momentarily flashed into his mind, before he dismissed the notion. He didn’t need a monster’s approval. “Tommy, I really need to get out of here, you know that right?”
Tommy chuckled, trying to look away from his gaze, to look behind him at Philza. Obviously, there was some fatherly relationship in there, but when had this happened? Neither of them had ever been able to meet in the Foundation. Had they somehow met before either of them had been caught?
His smile wavered slightly. “I need to get out of here.” He repeated, “so, I’m going to get out of here. No matter what. Will you be joining us?”
Tommy looked vaguely uncomfortable but nodded anyway.
There was an awkwardness in the air between the two of them, but they began to walk through the empty hallways of the Foundation.
(Occasionally there would be a blood spatter on the walls, or a part of a body left on the ground, and he’d smile and joke about something random to Tommy, just so he wouldn’t have to see the teenager being devastated by the blood. He was just a kid. He didn’t deserve this.)
Philza used its knowledge of the area to guide them to the quickest path to where hopefully Techno would be able to get them out. He had been collecting a few papers of the more concerning SCPs who had gotten out.
Dream
Normally very docile, but when it sees someone flee it turns into a monster and doesn’t go back to normal until it cannot see them anymore or they are dead.
Use of another SCP, George is used to calm Dream down.
Document signed and written by: Sapnap.
Upon reading that he had started searching for the related George’s file, and a few rooms later had stumbled upon it.
George
Very docile. Gets along well with Dream. Anytime it is scared it will blind anyone nearby. It has very poor vision, and can be easily taken down if needed.
Document signed and written by: Sapnap.
Hopefully, they wouldn’t encounter either of them. Of course, he had the knife he had stolen from the kitchen to keep them all safe. He’d rather not have to start a fight, but of course with a giant building full of monsters, when was there a choice?
When the silence grew too long, Tommy began to talk about his friend, Tubbo.
He was just like him, apparently. Tubbo worked for the Foundation at quite a young age, physically looking like Tommy apparently. Maybe he had seen something like Techno had and had been forced to work for the company?
Had the kid quit school early, or was he lying to Tommy? Well, if Tommy believed Tubbo was his age, did that make the kid sixteen no matter what age he had been before?
Did the world intrinsically bend to Tommy’s whims, or did he only shape certain events? If he believed someone was alive, would they be unable to die until he believed otherwise?
If someone truly evil got their hands on Tommy, who knew what could happen.
After a long time of walking, Philza warned them of a group of three people approaching.
Unluckily for them, the trio was quite close (Philza could sense for miles, why hadn’t they been warned sooner?) and there were no rooms to conveniently hide in. So, they were forced to confront them head-on.
An SCP in a green hoodie stood in front of the other two, with a large white mask over its face. Behind it stood another SCP, with goggles over its eyes and a human wearing black and white.
As long as they didn’t have some overpowered skill set, or really didn’t want to let them pass, they would be fine.
After taking stock of their potential enemies, he turned towards Tommy to check on him. The kid was shaking. Maybe he had also met these SCPs before? Or maybe he was just scared of them.
“Tommy,” he whispered. “Stay calm, we’ll be fine.” Tommy still looked terrified, even a bit more than he had previously been. The memory of the creature that went feral at the sign of fear flashed into his mind, and he hoped, prayed, it wasn’t one of those guys.
Because if it was— they were fucked.
Techno took a few steps forward, feeling Tommy reach for his arm to hold him back and leaning away from the kid. Philza stood stock still, watching their interaction.
“Hello,” he greeted loudly. “I’m Techno, this is Philza and Tommy,” he gestured at Philza and Tommy respectively. “We just want to get out of here without a fight.”
Luckily, he had hidden his knife in his much too small pocket. Hopefully, it wouldn’t fall out. He could feel it poking into his leg, so it was probably fine.
The SCP that seemed to be in charge began walking to meet him in the middle. It had an aura of superiority and cockiness which made Techno want to stab it. Luckily for everyone involved, he still had some self-control left.
“Hello,” it said. “I’m Dream.” Fuck. It was the monster who went feral. They were fucked. “And this is George and Sapnap,” it gestured at its two companions. “We just want to make sure Sapnap survives, I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course I do,” he agreed. “We can both be on our way easily.”
Dream hummed, looking past him at Tommy, who was shaking and moments from running and ruining everything. “Who’s your friend?”
“Tommy, as I said.” He gritted his teeth. “Now can we go or not.”
It hummed, and smirked, a grin filled with sharp teeth. This was obviously the last straw for Tommy, who turned around and ran behind Philza.
But, that was the sign of fear that would set Dream off.
At the vision of prey filling the monster’s vision, it began to turn into a beast, its arms growing longer and his fingers sharper. Its mask melded into its skin, showing off bloodthirsty eyes and teeth that could tear through his skin easily.
The hoodie it had been wearing tore off in the transformation, now in a bundle of scraps on the ground and a few pieces hanging onto its body. Techno fished his knife out of his pocket in the moments before the fight would truly start.
He hadn’t wanted to do anything like this in front of Tommy but, oh well. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and well, Techno was begging God to save him from the beast in front of him.
Before it had even adjusted to the new form, Techno jumped on top of its back taking a stab at the area between its shoulders and neck. It screeched at the pain and tried to shake him off.
Its friends were obviously trying to intervene, but he was hyper-focused on making sure they would all be able to make it out alive. It hadn’t approached Philza yet, so the two of them were safe for the time being.
Unluckily for him though, Dream even as a beast was smart. It rolled over and slammed him onto the ground, making him lose his breath as he was crushed. Dream quickly got off of him, only to pin him beneath its claws.
It growled at him, as he flinched away. His knife was still in its neck. If he could remove it, it would probably go back to normal or bleed out. Either way, he wouldn’t die.
But, he couldn’t move his hands.
And Dream was simply tired of this fight, it seemed.
In mere moments, it leaned down and tore out his throat. For a few moments, he didn’t realize what had happened. Then, Dream was turning back to normal, and he couldn’t breathe.
There was blood everywhere, his skin was in Dream’s mouth, and he could hear someone screaming his name.
In his final moments, he felt familiar hands lift him from the ground. He closed his eyes, hoping Philza and Tommy could make it out of the facility on their own alright.
He died happily.
He woke up to a deep sense of confusion.
He had been dead.
There was something on his neck, but all of his bones felt too heavy to see what it was, let alone opening his eyes to see.
“See,” he could hear Philza say, sounding like he was underwater. “Techno’s alive, Tommy. He can’t die, just like us.”
Everything was so confusing.
For more than a decade of his life, he had been normal, sometimes even lacking— and now, suddenly, he couldn’t die.
Feeling the edge of a breakdown, Techno drifted off to a second, longer nap.
When he woke up, he was in Philza’s embrace. It was completely wrapped around him, laid on the ground, holding him close. It was almost comforting, for a moment.
For a moment of warmth. The memory of his family at home, knowing if he made it out he’d be able to see them again.
Then, he began to half-heartedly struggle out of the grip. Philza easily let him escape, smiling at him as they both sat up.
The first thing on his agenda was his neck wound, only to find it had completely healed over. The skin was rough, but he was alive. For some reason, it was still hard to process that fact.
(Back then, he had seen a man killed in the exact same fashion. His introduction to this world and his end may have even been the same creature.)
There was a bit of dried, crusted over blood over the large scar, but he left it be. “What…” he whispered, as his voice refused to go loud. Likely because of the damage that had been done to it. “What happened?” Looking around, he quickly noticed Tommy was gone as well. “Where’s Tommy?”
Philza chuckled, fondness in its voice. “He ran off to go find his friend,” it tilted its head, staring at Techno’s neck. “You still need to get out of here.”
Noticing how Philza had explained nothing, Techno decided to just... ignore it for now. It was fine.
He didn’t honestly care too much about what had happened. He was alive, and that was all that mattered.
(What about Dream? Was it still alive? Could they check in with Tommy before they left? Why did everything feel numb?)
Philza hummed, “You lost your knife in the fight.”
Techno nodded, “I did.”
He had a moment of fear, of the vision of his throat being torn out as it stared at him. Bright blue eyes bore into him, but ultimately the creature only stood up and helped him begin to walk again.
The next SCP they ran into, Techno didn’t have the patience to try to talk with.
Even without a weapon, he was a threat. The SCP was very human-like. He ran to it, tackled it to the ground, and strangled it.
For some reason, it didn’t struggle much.
But, that didn’t matter too much.
As they continued to walk, Techno noticed some things shifting around him.
When they had all started this, he had been in a white work outfit with flats on.
Now, he had boots on, and his clothing had changed to red. His pants had become more comfortable, and he felt everything changing around him.
The next time they met an SCP, Techno had a cape fluttering behind him.
As his trail of bodies continued to grow longer, Techno lost more and more of his reason to care.
He felt nothing now.
Philza was a constant reminder of why he was moving forward. Sometimes, he would stop in the middle of a fight and wonder where he was going exactly.
What was he doing all of this for?
He was almost ashamed of how long it took him to remember how supportive his family was. How much he had missed them.
(Something was wrong.)
In the middle of a fight, he managed to steal a knife from one of his combatants. The battles were now much bloodier, but it just made him more intimidating to his enemies.
In the midst of the fight, his knife grew longer, and happened to cut off someone’s head. It was a bit gory, but the only thing that really mattered was why the hell did he suddenly have a sword?
He managed the rest of the fight but stared at the sword (why was it blue?) in his hands. Philza didn’t comment, just pushed him slightly forward to get him moving again.
At this pace, they’d probably be out soon.
When they managed to escape there was no relief, no shaking knees, and no promises to meet again. Just a tired man who had been through too much and the cryptid who had adopted him as its own.
“I’ll see you again soon, Techno,” was its parting message.
It walked back inside the Foundation, as Techno walked around to find his car.
As he drove, his head got slightly clearer.
He had killed.
They may have been monsters, but what am I if I killed them without remorse?
At least he had hurt Dream to save Tommy. There was no excuse for every kill he had made in that building.
In that moment, that moment of clarity, he hated himself.
There was a sword covered in blood on his passenger seat.
When he arrived home, he procrastinated on seeing his family again.
He got a whole new set of clothes, replacing the bloodied ones. He hid his sword and looked as normal as he could.
He put on a smile for his family, and he waited for the Foundation to send him a notice that all the SCPs had been secured.
Months passed.
He never got everything he had taken for granted back.
He still felt so little— still struggled to smile at family, and laugh with friends.
(He could still feel the blood on his hands.)
He recovered as much as he could.
Then, he was called back to work.
As one of the very few survivors of the breakout, he was promoted.
He was put on a much higher threat of an SCP.
On his first day, he walked past Philza’s containment room.
He looked through the glass, and instantly Philza lifted his head to see him. The SCP smiled at him, a deep fondness in his eyes.
He could almost hear the SCP’s thoughts of him, see how he thought of him like a son— just like Tommy. He smiled at the thought as he turned to continue on his way. Family, he thought. This is my family.