The helicopters soon arrived to pick up the kids. Most of which had he’d had to heal in some way or another
Only after he’d been lifted up to the helicopter did he take some time to rest. He’d killed a monster today, but not quickly enough.
So he began the long flight back to the foundation, where the kids would probably have this horrible stretch of their life wiped from their memories, before putting them into foster homes or sent off to live with their relatives.
The foundation with all its flaws, was doing their best in most cases. They’d be ok.
Cold, not cruel. That was their motto, and it showed. But they could only do so much while following their rules.
They couldn’t bring the SCPs to the public eye, and he understood why. Some of them couldn’t under any circumstances have their name spread. The consequences would be disastrous. But if he killed those SCPs, and the public learned about the ones he couldn’t, wouldn’t that make a world where people wouldn’t be killed from watching the wrong play or downloading the wrong app. They’d know what to do, who to call, what to say.
One person couldn’t do everything, but he wasn’t just one person, and he’d do his part to make the world safer. He’d be here awhile after all, he wasn’t even sure he aged anymore.
Besides, it’s not like he had anything better to do.
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Several hours later Michael stepped off the helicopter and made his way back inside the facility. He needed a shower badly. He was covered in a mixture of his own blood and the Yule Man's.
Hearthgrieve entered the room shortly after with a smile on his face.
“Great work Michael, truly exceptional! We’ve been trying to terminate that SCP since we discovered it. It’s not exactly something we can contain as I’m sure you know.”
Michael scoffed, “Yeah, I can guess why.”
“Anyways, I’m going to need a rundown of the field mission and the shift. Especially how you killed the thing. From what we saw in that cavern, it gave you a bit of trouble.
He chuckled, “Yeah, a bit. Don’t forget to send me more men. I have a special idea for this batch.”
“Oh, do tell.”
“Ok, but you're probably not gonna like it.”
With that, Michael told him about the shift and some of his ideas.
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In a far off dimension, among a sea of its dead kin stood a giant cicada. It’s shell was cracked and splintered, with green blood seeping from its wounds. To its side was the corpse of its aggressor, a being of order laying dead amongst the corpses of millions of her brood. It was a low ranked being of Order, nothing more than a homunculi, but they clearly spent significant resources in its construction. For it had been extremely difficult to kill.
The cicada moved to treat her wounds, but suddenly space shifted across from her and out stepped a tall blonde man with green eyes.
The man wore eccentric jewelry and had occult tattoos covering much of his body. He looked bored, and scoffed upon seeing the cicada still alive.
“I told Order to send in more than one homunculi, but nooooo~. He goes off and says one should enough, like he knows better than me.”
The cicada hissed towards the new arrival, “Why does he crave my death so? If he thinks I’ll roll over and die, you will be surprised. I know how thinly your kind is spread. I’ll kill you, and by the time the next one of you arrives, you won’t b-.”
“Oh just shut up already, I’ve killed you in three different dimensions today and I’m getting tired of listening to the speech. It’s so repetitive.”
With that the blond haired man snapped his fingers, and the cicada’s body was immediately engulfed in flames.
It howled in pain, but the fire only grew hotter. It attempted to put out the flames, but they were unyielding, unstopping, and seconds later the creature was nothing more than ash upon the floor.
“You think you can talk down to me just because you killed a homunculi? Fool.”
Space once again warped around the man, he had more work to do. Mainly consisting of killing more instances of this entity.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
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Michael rested in his bed. He didn’t exactly need sleep anymore, but laying down did help clear his mind.
He thought back to what the Yule Man did to those kids. How many monsters in this world were doing the same thing right this moment?
Suddenly Michael felt a sense of weightlessness, as space warped and consumed him.
Only a week and three days had passed since the last shift.
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With a flash Michael appeared in what seemed to be a supply closet.
“Only a week this time huh.”
He didn’t know what Order was up to, but the shortening of his freetime was quite annoying.
Michael expanded his senses, and could sense no flesh in his immediate vicinity so he decided to go see just where he was.
After opening the door, Michael was greeted with the all too familiar sight of the foundation halls. Although they were different. Moss and grass grew throughout the corridors, it had spread throughout much of the facility. Some parts even seemed like the metal in the walls had been mixed with the grass.
Michael sighed, “Great.”
The shifts that sent him to other world’s foundations were quite troublesome. They stored an extremely wide assortment of disastrous creatures in their halls, and the lack of knowledge for what this specific facility contained made that dangerous.
But he couldn’t just sit there forever. So he began to walk the halls, as his heart started to beat heavily in his chest before speaking.
“Ah, the sweet taste of dread is in the air. You’ve landed yourself in a fun one this time.”
Michael sighed, “Why do you keep trying to talk to me?”
“Come on, don’t be like that. Whether I like it or not, we’re stuck together. Even if you blatantly refuse to take my advice.”
“Fair enough, you mentioned tasting dread. Is there enough of that emotion to do anything with?”
“Yes, but nothing flashy like when you exploded that behemoth of ash. At most you can reinforce you and your soldier’s bodies slightly. Of course, I would be more effective if you had an army of your soldiers for me to siphon emotions off of.”
“Stop being passive aggressive if you want me to talk to you.”
“Wait a second, I taste something far greater than dread.”
“What is it?”
“This...this is pure. Oh I haven't tasted hatred like this in centuries. It’s truly divine, or more accurately the opposite of divine.”
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A smiling porcelain mask sat upon what could roughly be called a giant lizard. It moved throughout the halls, in the best mood it had been in for awhile.
The scientists at this facility were fools. So easy to manipulate that he’d barely needed to put in the effort.
They didn’t protect their minds in the slightest, every one of their desires and regrets on full display for the world to see.
How could he not take advantage? Especially when they denied him his body.
But this body was great. Perfect in every way.
Black acid-like material covered the giant lizard’s skin, but it didn’t eat through the lizard’s flesh like it did to most of its hosts.
The lizard had adapted to it mere seconds after he’d been placed upon the beast. Truly a perfect creature.
The mask could hear arguing echo down the halls, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Reaching down he gripped one of the scientists, a man made of grass and vines.
A pathetic exercise for a creature that tried its best to scurry away from the beast.
It chuckled to itself and ripped the scientist apart with his claws as a man with a crimson crown rounded the corner
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Michael saw the lizard kill the man of grass.
He was pretty sure that was just how the people in this world looked, but who could really know for sure. Then he noticed the smiling mask upon the lizard and scoffed.
“Did you know the foundation calls you evil? Judging from this display I’m inclined to agree with them.”
The smile on the porcelain mask faltered for a moment.
“Oh, a creature who actually bothered to protect their mind, and made of flesh as well. I know this facility doesn’t house anything like that, and no messages for reinforcements have been sent. So who are you?”
“Well it doesn’t matter much who I am, but I can’t really let you go around killing foundation members.”
Michael paused.
“Wait no, that’s hypocritical of me to say. I guess you can kill the ones that attack you first, but not guys like that.”
Michael gestured to the man’s corpse, “I doubt he even knew how to wield a weapon. It’s just unnecessary.”
“You think you can tell me what to do? Nobody holds rule over my life.”
“We'll see.”
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Michael stepped towards the creature.
In his left hand Michael gripped the mace, and in his right the hammer. Dual wielding weapons is typically a fool's task. It's simply too much to ask a mind to focus on the precision of two weapons at once.
But he wasn’t one mind, and he strived for improvement.
His soldiers stood at his side, but not one of them was helping to enforce Michael’s concentration.
No, instead Michael had several small bags tied to his belt. It had been hard to convince the foundation to allow this, but they'd conceded after he explained its use.
Within each bag was a person Michael had infected and condensed to a size he could carry. They could do nothing but provide service to Michael’s control, but that was all he needed them for.
He was tired of losing a good chunk of his combat potential just because his soldiers had died. Having them on his person seemed like a good countermeasure.
So he rushed towards the lizard and his hammer met its skull, shooting blood throughout the hall.
He wouldn’t let it leave this facility, far too many would die if he did.