#rambling but my legit moto for everything is “you may not like it but someone will”

[angelicvigilante]

A short and bad, not proofread drabble I wrote for an scp au I've been thinking of. I may not finish it, but it's inspired largely by this; Mc called Zephyr, because while there isn't really a defined personality or thoughts, I felt it fit more than doing stuff from an Mc's perspective where it should fit anyone.

Zephyr swallows nervously, wide eyes gazing up at the door– It looks like claw marks have indented into the metal, yet, here they are. Lamb to the slaughter, unwillingly presented to some keter class that’d have them dead in mere seconds, if the recent declining number of D classes and scientists have meant anything. They were at least thankful with the fact they weren’t told anything– Not.

Blood seeps out the metallic entrance as their led closer, some of it old, muddied, the others a bright, vibrant scarlet that stares back. As sickening as it is, they stay still as the door starts to open, loud and scratchy on the ears as the metal collides with the wall and the floors– Barely able to ponder it more as their shoved in, Zephyr’s heart pounding in their own ears without even seeing anything.

The doors already fucking closed, a death sentence laughing at them, it’s mocking, even more so with the fact that they know the scientists must be watching; Watching as they look around the dark room, stepping over mauled flesh, tattered like clawed clothing. Zephyr can only swallow again, breathing picking up as they hear something, someone move–

It’s inhuman, terribly so, but Zephyr can’t make it out.

So– Despite all odds, it’s already ending, right? They step closer, something ruffles, upon closer inspection, not close enough to disturb though, it’s wings. Feathers stained a deep, dark color, they can only guess one of the original colors– Most likely before the slaughter around, black. The creature doesn’t seem awake, but in its rest, it seems more human than any of the scientists they���ve come face to face with.

Zephyr’s breath dares to hitch, and it all goes to hell, wings fanning out, glowing golden-yellow eyes staring back at them, as wide as Zephyr’s own.

They stumble out as the creature lets out a horrid, screeching sound; breathing so fast they can’t even hear their own thoughts, chest heaving up and down– Just for it to get worse, the creature standing up, far, far taller than them, white claws– Almost like long nails, stained the same red everywhere else, everything is stained– Their going to be stained as well.

Zephyr’s back hits wall, a sob shaking their frame, the claws of the beast reach out and– And they– 

Hold their cheek, wiping away salty tears as they fall.

No pain comes to them, the creature must just love playing with their victims, doesn’t it? Up so close, Zephyr can notice the beast has feathers, scattered throughout their body, peppering their skin like freckles, for some reason– The front of their chest lays barren, tanned skin clean save for blood splatters and white lines, curling up and down in a pattern they can’t quite place. The creature has pants, same as Zephyr themself, but it doesn’t make them believe this thing is human in the slightest, despite the way their form might fool others– Zephyr knows this is a beast.

It croons, a sickeningly saccharine sound; Something they can’t decipher,  chirped out high pitched and needy. Almost greedy in the way it pulls them close, cradled right against the monster's chest.  They don’t kick, don’t scream, soaking up the little kindness they are allowed from it before it will, surely– All go to hell once more, when claws finally dig in.

But they never do.

Even as they shake and tremble, nothing happens– The greedy monster doesn’t do a thing, favoring the lamb it’s been sent like a treasure, for some weird, unknown reason. It sniffs at their hair, nuzzling into it like a starved man, and Zephyr can only think about how it could unhinge its jaw and swallow them whole. They don’t know how long they sit there, don’t know anything, until they cough, their tears stopped some time ago, eyes red and angry, fighting to keep open.

Zephyr wished it was earlier, with a nicer scientist, one only using them to stare into a tank– Even if something doused them in water, leaving them smelling exactly like whatever beast inhabited that tank.

They might have preferred that beast over one who can breathe oxygen– Though they don’t know if the one from earlier was a sea monster, or what; But now isn’t the time for thoughts, not when the beasts shifts Zephyr in its arms, head against its chest– Able to hear the beating heart, just like their own.

That doesn’t make it human, it’s not human in the slightest; A monster with no empathy waiting to attack. Even as that starts to feel farther and farther from the truth.