I awoke inside the facility again, looking up at Hatchet’s face.

“Come on! Wake up!”

I put a hand on his hand, stopping his vigorous shaking of my body. “I’m awake. Stop shaking me please.”

Hatchet looked petrified and let go of me. “How... How are you alive?”

I spat out some blood from my mouth and sat up, dusting myself off. “I’m kind of immortal. Didn’t I tell you that already?”

Hatchet looked like he was in a state of shock and his hands were shaking.

I put a hand on his shoulder and looked straight into his helmet. “Hey. I’m alive. That’s what matters.”

Hatchet didn’t react at all. I guess it might take some getting used to seeing someone literally come back to life. Ah, no matter.

I got off the floor and looked back outside the glass. There’s a crater there, all right. My dismembered leg was also on the floor out there.

Shame. I liked that leg.

I was suddenly reminded of the shrapnel embedded in my nose when I got a little too close to the glass, shoving the sharp metal shard further into my cranium. It hurt like all hell.

“OW! Fuck me!” I instinctively moved my hand up to my nose, twisting the metal piece further inciting yet more pain. “Ow, ow, ow! That’s it, you’re coming out right now.”

I yanked the metal shard out of my nose, which was surprisingly painless. Some blood spouted from the opened wound, but it was quickly closed off by my regeneration. I licked my upper lip, cleaning it from the running blood.

I cast the metal piece aside and cracked my knuckles, now with a clear mind.

“Hatchet, while I was knocked out, I suddenly remembered something far more important than chasing this random survivor.”

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

I looked at the helmeted man, who was still shaking from the shock. “Y-you’re a f-freak...”

I scoffed. “Fine, be that way. I won’t keep the pack of 939’s from chewing your face off if I end up finding them then.”

I took one last look at the broken man before walking off toward the main foyer again. I need to find Tomato and Cherry, stat.

I thought for a while about where my reptilian friends might be. There were no corpses in the Keter wing who had bite marks on them... Maybe they’re still in the containment area? They can’t use elevators, so unless something or someone powered it for them...

I decided to go over there to find out for myself. I made my way back to the Keter wing, ignoring the various corpses I had already looted when I was here earlier.

I entered the elevator and pressed -7 on the number panel.

“Sublevel #7, SCP-939 containment.”

The elevator quickly descended, and it wasn’t long before I stepped out of the elevator which had reached the correct floor. It closed with a hiss behind me, and I stepped onto the catwalks yet again.

It’s been too long since I saw this place, and more importantly, my friends.

I looked down at the SCP cells and saw they were all occupied. All except for Cherry’s, naturally as she sleeps with Tomato.

I looked over at tomato’s cell and... Wait. What is that?

Are those... tiny little SCP-939 instances???

THEY HAVE KIDS???

I rushed down the stairs as quickly as I could. It made an ungodly amount of noise as the hinges on the door sounded like they hadn’t been oiled in a year... oh right.

I burst out of the bottom gate and ran over to Tomato’s cell.

Oh yeah. My eyes are not deceiving me. Those are 939 babies. Oh my god.

I counted them. 2... 4... 6... 7 KIDS???

I put my hand on the glass, tears welling up in my eyes. “You two...”

They all seemed to be sleeping soundly. They were all in a big pile, lying on top of each other in an adorable little pile.

I wiped the tears from my eyes looking at the family.

“Sleep soundly, guys. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I sat down on the floor right outside the cell, not wanting to take a single step away from my friends.

I looked at the clock on the wall and saw the clock was 3am.

Well, I'm sure as hell not moving an inch. I guess I'm sleeping on the floor tonight.

I heard the adorable little snores of the young 939’s through the cell door, and I put a hand on the cold, hard steel separating me from them.

“I can’t wait to get to know you.”