Subaru's Containment Breach (Chapter 3)

“SCPs 049, 939, and 682 have breached containment. All staff please meet up at-”

The audio not so conveniently cut off. Wilson kept muttering to himself, something around the lines of “How did the test fail?” Nearby Bart was rather dazed in midst of the turn of events, he seemed oddly detached from reality. As if he were coping with the reality itself trying to decipher the difference between his own imagination and what was real. Chris seemed oddly complacent and as the elevator twitched open upon its arrival he heard gunshots, several. All of them had come from the cafeteria, screams, eerily familiar to the voices of his fellow inmates. Yet, Wilson still urged them inside the elevator. The machine whirred as it was directed to go down by the mechanical push of a button. And a feeling of abandonment, that same feeling of shame flooded Chris’s eyes, and as such seemingly fake tears poured down. Oddly enough, bart too, was sobbing.

  “Get a hold of yourself Chris, this ain’t the time for crying? Geesh I thought you guys were supposed to be horrible people, but apparently not! WHY ARE THE BOTH OF YOU CRYING?!? We gotta get out, just stay calm, clam and-”

  The elevator opened to the sight of a large red beastlike creature, Wilson remained silent. However, Bart continued to sob despite the disaster occurring in front of them. The monster grew attached to the peculiar sound it seemed rather familiar to. It’s throat churned as vocals came out through an unknown origin. From whom, from when, did it imitate such a person, Chris was unsure. How did it know? How did it know exactly what to say to the poor, pitiful Bart who was huddled in the corner?

  “Is that you? My old friend?” Bart looked up seemingly confused, but oddly relieved by the tone of this horrific monster. That was his first mistake, turning around, the creature engulfed the entirety of Bart’s head, blood gushed as a massive “SNAP” was heard. His skull had been crushed and in realization of this, Chris felt the urge to scream rise from his throat, the terror unbeknownst to him and also a familiar sorrow, it’s as if this had happened to him before.

  “I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna, I can’t, I cannot, not now, no, no, no…” Oddly enough, it wasn’t Chris who spoke those words, but the usually reserved guard next to him, Wilson was incredibly afraid. The monster too heard his words, and saw the movement of his lips, it had found the source of another prey. It growled as if delighted and partook in the course so gracefully given to it. It caught Wilson by the arm and in instinct Wilson pulled back. That too, was obviously a mistake. The feeble arm came off like a tissue, blood splattered in Chris’s face, and yet he was frozen, unable to move. This wasn’t right, it couldn’t be, this wasn’t reality. This was a mistake, it had to be that was the only thing Chris could decipher from the grim situation. That folly of misunderstanding the cruelty of nature led Chris to watch as Wilson pleaded for his help as he was slowly torn apart by a predator happily playing with it’s prey.

  Blood, that red liquid, or whatever you’d prefer to call it. It was everywhere, on Chris’s eyes, his face, his shirt, his shoes, the walls, the buttons. Only red perpetrated his vision and the sight was vaguely familiar. And the sight of a blue haired girl laying on the ground dead, came to Subaru’s brain. The sight of burnt corpses in a small field. The sight of a cute silver haired girl with blood soaking her clothes. Unable to process it all, he finally let out a wretched unfaltering screech that surmised his doom as the creature before him took a bite into a most delectable piece of human trash. Chris himself couldn’t believe his last words when they escaped his throat, but the last thing that could be heard from inside the monster’s mouth was a simple call for somebody’s name, an unknown person. That name being “Emilia.”

  Falling off his own bed, Chris quickly stood up looking around at his surroundings. Oddly enough, he didn’t know why he expected to see himself in the creature’s stomach, for he’d obviously be dead by the time he got that far. Still, why was he alive? And why, why was he in his cell? Almost on cue the cells opened only for Chris to see moments later Bart, who hadn’t had too much trouble getting to Chris’s cell. Nobody was excited for bean day, except Bart. He was always excited to eat anything.

  “Hey dude, I don’t wanna be rude, but you kinda look like a pile of dog shit. Also, did you fall off your bed?”

  “Wha-” Chris couldn’t process it, disregarding his newfound memories, disregarding everything that had happened. Here Bart stood, happy, cheerful, and giddy. He wasn’t crying, he wasn’t dead, his head wasn’t disformed anymore. Even so, it didn’t make sense! There’s no way it could! How could, how could, things be so perfectly normal after such an event. And the sudden realization finally hit Chris, by some grace he was given a second chance. But why him? Why now? Is this why the Foundation valued him so highly? He couldn’t understand, in fact, he didn’t want to understand.

  “Hey, man, get up already. You’re kinda creeping me out with that blank look on your face, ya know? This isn’t like you…”

  “What’s wrong with you two! I’ve been waiting for you guys, what’s going on in here?”

  “Oh crap! Blueberry’s here you gotta pull yourself together man!”

  “Cut the crap, Bart! What’s wrong with him..?”

  Chris had filtered out their voices, for they hadn’t mattered, not yet, not now, not ever. Chris screamed internally for this to be a dream. Chris had come to realize that humans are often selfish. He too was selfish, for he was human. That was just a simple fact of reality. The reason why people liked him is only because he was of a certain use to them. That’s all he had going for him, if he acted right, if he stayed within the boundaries of society he’d be fine. The D-Class who asked him for extra food, the guards that only protected him because they were ordered to. He enjoyed that fake relationship. His friendship with Bart, too, that was just a ploy. He knew deep in his heart that Bart didn’t realistically care, Bart just wanted his food, and maybe Bart was also lonely. By accommodating this sense of comradery they were able to develop a “relationship.” Whatever you wanted to call it, it was fake, it wasn’t real. It was just a method to gain mutual benefit, that’s how human nature works, so he was confused by these memories. These memories that flooded his head, why did he feel a certain fondness for these unknown people. What benefit did he gain from knowing them, what benefit did they gain from knowing him? He didn’t know, so much information and yet reality tasked him to simply deal with it. Such a simple word but a rather rash concept. At first glance, somebody could state that they could do the impossible, but that was from an outside perspective, that was naive, and Chris was naive. Naivety is broad. His inaction could devalue him as naive, his standing here not competent enough to make a sound, that too could be naive? Like a child unable to make a decision when facing others, not having the guts. That too could be considered naive. So, is him trying to preserve his own life and forsake others, is that naive? Yet, there’s an obligation in his stomach to stop the catastrophe from occurring, to save Bart, to save Wilson. Because the benefit he gained from keeping them alive made him truly happy. To give value to that, to proclaim it as a benefit, that was the existence of Chris. Did that make him human? He was unsure, but he in his deepest desire wanted to be the hero. Do something other than sit in this cell waiting to be asked for the help that nobody wanted him for.

  “I’m alright, I’m alright, I just got a bit of a headache.”

  “Do I need to contact the medical unit?”

  “There’s no need Blueberry, I’m good.”

  “Don’t spook us like that Chris! Maybe you need some food to help ease your nerves or something.”

  “I told you I’m fine Bart.”

  Oddly enough, Wilson was easily convinced, but Bart wasn’t. It took Chris to promise him more extra meals than usual to actually get him to shut up. Chris could finally take into consideration what would be the best action from here on out. It’s obvious that the elevator was a no go, but how would he convince Wilson that was not the right way. If he told Wilson the truth… What would happen to him afterwards? Could he trust Wilson? Even still, it was either that or dying to that creature again, that disgusting amalgamation of a hellhound. It was soon, the alarm would set off, Chris anticipated its arrival only for nothing to happen. Chris found himself at odds with himself, was his ability to tell time absolutely demolished? What was wrong? Chris looked around, of course, everybody was acting normal. And a sudden thought entered his mind, that everything he had just experienced was a nightmare. Now that he thought of it, that too made sense. It was far less bizarre than what he assumed to be the case. Right, right, this was only natural routine, there was nothing wrong going on. How stupid was he? For thinking that something is wrong. He took his spoon and tried to take another scoop of the beans only to find red splattered across the table.

  Well wasn’t this odd, somebody must have spilt tomato juice on the table. Is what Chris assumed, but he wasn’t aware. That the creature he had insulted before was now in the cafeteria with everyone, yet nobody seemed to care. Not Chris who was absent minded of the decapitated corpse of Bart right in front of him, he didn’t question it. Thus, the chatter commenced and slowed as time passed, a crackle of a skull being popped only meant that one voice in the chorus of chatter disappeared. They didn’t question it, many complained about the beans, not because the red liquid that was spilled onto their beans had spoiled it, but because it tasted kinda odd. Upon further reflection, people started to cumulatively agree that this different taste was different enough to make them like it, in some odd way. And so, the beast feasted and feasted upon the absent minded fools. The selfish human trash that plagued the cafeteria was quickly fading away.

  “Oh! Hey, Wilson what’s wrong? Why did you fall like that? Hey dude are you crying?” Chris voiced his concern as the deformed head of Wilson fell onto Chris’s shoulder, Chris tried to comfort the corpse before him by caressing it’s head. He patted it’s back and continued to do this until the creature appeared directly in his view. Yet, in Chris’s eyes there was no such monster, he only saw a dog. “Woah Wilson! Did the facility get a new dog, that’s so cool! Can I pet it? Can I pet it?”

  Chris immediately went to pet the creature, yet he was taken aback by the lack of fingers he possessed. He swear he didn’t have such a serious birth defect, he would’ve realized it earlier in his life, but why now? Nonetheless, Chris tried the other hand and the same results came to fruition, his fingers were gone, now that was odd, very peculiar indeed. He figured the universe didn’t want him to pet the dog. Which was kinda cruel and very rude especially considering it was directed just for this specific instance, he had been condemned to death row and this is the treatment God gave him. Honestly, the audacity he had to even attempt such a thing. That, of all things, it was absurd. Chris fell to the ground, maybe he had tripped? But his right leg was missing? That was fine, everything is fine, he just needs to get up. Throttles of pain entered his mental vision as his other leg was chopped off by the apparent cute dog behind him. But still this felt normal to Chris, his end, the dizziness he experienced as the red liquid poured out from underneath him and soaking into his clothes. This is to all be expected, especially under the circumstances, he must’ve deserved it. This dreadful feeling, this too should be expected, expected for a human trash like him. And so was expected the sound of flesh being gnashed apart and making its way to the skull that gave way to the juicy insides. In one fell swoop it was only natural that he died-

  Shaking; Chris’s entire bed was shaking, but not due to an earthquake. But Chris in realization of his return remembered the past events and how they weren’t normal. There was nothing normal about them! Just thinking about it made him want to vomit. He was huddled in the corner paralyzed. How was he supposed to fix this? If he thought these creatures as normal, if he didn’t even question the death of his own friends, how could he possibly intervene with the events that are soon to pass. Why did he even feel such indifference to everything that past run? That’s not what happened last time and it didn’t make sense! Why, why, why, WHY?!? There was only one solution left he had to tell Wilson, no matter how afraid he was of the consequences he needed to tell somebody! He was sick and tired of trying and only after two tries too, huh? Could he really give up that easily?

  “You’re the sort of person that cannot give up on others… I believe in you… You’re a hero...” Words resounded from the deepest depths of Chris’s brain.

  “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! Where are these memories coming from, anyways? What do they mean, I can’t think straight anymore! I’ll just tell them, ya I’ll tell them… everything.”

  “Tell us what, Chris? Why do you look so distraught..?”

  “B-Bart… thank goodness, get Wilson now! We have to get out of here now, the S-”

  Time stopped and a faint whisper adorned Chris’s figure, it felt cold, a fear that surpassed any other fear. That even surpassed his fear of death, the pain that resided it was nothing compared to this sense of dread. Chris eyes could spot a dark entity from afar, it formed into the shape of  a hand and it caressed his chest. Seemingly going through it and strangling his lungs. Time resumed only for Chris to have fallen on the floor gasping for air. In fear, he looked up at Bart, who then looked to Wilson. Wilson quickly pulled out his radio after watching the event transpire.

  “Medical unit? This is Wilson, please send a doctor immediately, subject 4116 is experiencing medical issues. Yes, yes… thank you.”

  “What’s going on, hey Chris are you okay?”

  “You’re coming with me Chris…” Wilson attempted to reach out his hand towards Chris only for him to swipe it away viciously.

  “NO! No, no, no you don’t understand! I can’t leave! NOT NOW! NOT WHEN THAT THI-” Chris gasped for air as the pain resumed in his lungs.

  “Chris, you have to go, I don’t think you understand your circumstance right now.” Wilson unsheathed his pistol and pointed it at Chris. “You’re coming, whether you like it or not.”

  “No, no, not now… how could I make such a stupid mistake..?”

  “Hey come on guys, calm down. Things don’t have to be like this. Look I’ll-”

  “Don’t get in my way Bart. You may have the misconception of your safety right now. But this includes Chris, I have been given authority to dispatch any disobedience, even if that means via force. I’m allowed to terminate either of you if you do not comply here and now. So back off Bart, we both know it won’t end well, if you don’t.”

  Bart gulped and complied there was a sad look in his eye as he watched Wilson drag Chris away. Chris was devastated, he honestly thought things were over. He was considering the possibility of just disobeying, so that he could intentionally get shot. But he was too afraid, too afraid of the pain. He hadn’t grown accustomed to it, could he honestly ever grow accustomed to that feeling. Chris felt trapped. So trapped that he even thought that it was better to wait it out. Afterall, they’re going away from the main source of the incident, aren’t they? But that theory was based only on limited information and it was hard for Chris to gather more when his standing in ranking amongst the facility was borderline D-Class. The only right he had was extra food; even his escort could betray him at will, even his escort was a higher rank than him.