SCP-914:
The Clockworks
ROUGHLY ONE MONTH had passed since I first began my life in the mysterious SCP Foundation research facility. As I slowly fell into something of a daily rhythm, I became acutely aware of how my life here was starting to feel “normal.” It went to show that humans were a highly adaptive species. You can adjust to any environment, and the “abnormal” eventually becomes “normal.”
My daily routine included waking up in the morning and eating breakfast with Iris. On the days Dr. Bright led experiments, we devoted ourselves to their testing. But if there wasn’t anything scheduled for the day, I wandered around the facility aimlessly. Once evening rolled around, I ate dinner with Iris. Then we’d return to her room and chat or play board games (the only way to kill time in her room) until it was time to take our showers and call it a night.
Days like that cycled endlessly, one after the next. Of course, there were minor variances in the events that popped up on different days, but they were as insignificant as the items lined up on the facility’s canteen menu. Nothing drastic worth mentioning ever happened, as the days mostly marched steadily along without any ups or downs.
Coming to expect this as the norm, I fully settled in, letting my guard down and relaxing. I felt completely at home, passing through the days without the least bit of fear or uncertainty. It was just another one of those “typical” days when I met those quirky researchers.
✦ ✦ ✦
One early morning, Iris and I were walking along the corridors in the research facility after eating breakfast. A researcher in her own right, Iris generally headed out for her own workspace. Supposedly it was a lab somewhere on the site, but I didn’t know exactly where since she never took me. On those days she wasn’t scheduled to participate in experiments with me, but she was staying with me today.
Therefore, going from past experience, this was going to be a day of testing with Dr. Bright. Since the research site viewed me as Iris’s accessory, SCP-105-C, her presence was mandated for any and all experiments using me. The frequency of the tests was irregular, varying anywhere from multiple in a single day to none for several days in a row, making it impossible to know what to expect. Supposedly Dr. Bright decided whether to conduct tests based on their mood that day or whether they were hit by a stroke of genius.
In the event Dr. Bright needed us for testing purposes, Iris would receive notification to that effect early in the morning. It always left her extremely restless and agitated, so I could tell what was happening without needing her to spell it out for me.
After cohabiting (was there a better word for it?) for roughly a month, I could pick up on little signs like that. Iris seemed accustomed to leading me through the corridors now, no longer providing the meticulous explanations she did when we first met.
“Hmmm. Through the course of repeated testing, we’ve started to form a general understanding of your abilities, ███,” Iris said, tilting her head to look up at me. She seemed a bit sluggish in the mornings.
“We’ve learned that your powers allow you to travel back and forth between this reality and the one inside the pictures,” she said. Always one for exaggerated gestures and movement, she swished her hands back and forth, as if she were swimming. “Actually, scratch that. You can enter the photos, but you can’t leave them of your own accord… In the event you wish to leave the photo, I must lend a helping hand. Literally,” she said, as she opened and closed her hand several times.
“We still don’t understand how I am able to do that. Perhaps it is due to my ability to manipulate the contents of the pictures I take… I am able to touch you and anything around you displayed in the picture.”
We verified as much through the course of a multitude of tests. While I was in a photo, it looked like it was playing a real-time video to Iris (Since the picture looked like a normal, still image to Dr. Bright and everyone else, it was just as she said, and viewed as an extension of her powers.). And when she touched the photo, she could manipulate the contents displayed in the video/photo. That’s how her name was suddenly engraved next to me in the creepy theme park, the Carnival of Horrors. At the time, Iris used the tip of one fingernail to scrawl her name into the ground (or more precisely, she scratched the photo where it showed the ground).
Furthermore, Iris was capable of grabbing the photo-image of me and plucking me out of the picture. So far, we had yet to find alternative methods of expelling me from the photos. I hated to think of it, but if Iris were to die while I was in the photo-world, it was highly likely that I would be trapped in there forever. As a result, she was always present for the tests. She was my one and only lifeline.
“The fascinating—no, beneficial—aspect of this phenomenon…is that your ability to enter photos allows you to observe the events captured in the pictures as they happened,” she observed.
Exactly. By entering the photos, I could observe a score of things experienced with my five senses; seeing with my own eyes, hearing with my own ears, and smelling with my own nose. So long as there was a picture, I could conduct a wide array of investigations such as speaking with someone currently dead who was either in or near where the photo was taken.
This ability was highly valued here at the research facility dedicated to the analysis of SCP objects. If there was an SCP object where nearly all of the data was either redacted or practically non-existent to begin with, it only took one photo for me to be able to slip into the photo-world and investigate what happened.
I entered photos regarding various SCP objects each time we conducted tests, and the wealth of information I brought back always verified or overthrew numerous theories. And in doing so, the research concerning those SCP objects steadily progressed.
A picture truly was worth a thousand words. Rather than pull their hair out debating over a hundred possibilities based on insufficient data, it was generally easier to have me go into the photo and see what happened. I wasn’t entirely sure what the information I brought back was used for. Seeing as a great deal of it was technical stuff, I probably wouldn’t understand even if someone explained it to me, but apparently the SCP Foundation held my ability in extremely high regard.
There was currently no end to the influx of requests from researchers near and far claiming they wanted to borrow me to investigate the SCP object they were studying. However, Dr. Bright was keeping me all to himself (herself?) at the moment. Apparently the hassle of dealing with that mad scientist outweighed the benefit of using me, for everyone kept their distance, refraining from placing any adamant requests.
Considering the fact I could have been deemed worthless and suffered a horrible fate such as getting neutralized or dissected, the results of being considered useful were overall favorable. It was the reason why I was able to go leisurely about my days without any sense of danger…for now.
“Yes, you are a very valuable and convenient entity. Consequentially, it is unlikely for you to be simply put to waste,” Iris said, looking at me as if I were a loyal dog. I nodded my head while listening to her.
“Notice how you haven’t been sent into photos concerning terribly dangerous SCP objects lately? In the unlikely event you died while in the photo-world, there is a possibility you wouldn’t come back… This is evidence that no one wants to lose an entity as rare as you,” Iris said. Listening to her through the translation collar, her style of speech was just as unusual and perplexing as ever, but I got the message. She was happy and relieved that the likelihood of me getting misused had decreased, which I found sort of sweet. She cared about what happened to me.