Looking into the containment cell at the creature, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sorrow for it.

The material I had been given told me that SCP 817 had once been a young man of Asian descent,

back before whatever happened to turn him into this thing.

The reading material was vague on that, and when SCP Foundation case files were light on information,

it meant one of two things. Either they didn't know, or they didn't want grunts like me to know.

Either way, I'd been around long enough to know that some mysteries couldn't be solved.

Trying was just a waste of energy.

Besides, I wasn't here to cure the guy.

Even if there was a cure, it would be above my pay grade.

No, I was here to make sure what the guy was now never escaped.

I was here to secure, contain, and protect. My new team leader, Lawrence Cooper,

stood next to me at the observation window, looking in at the thing. Ain't it a bute? he said in his

jovial way. Every time I see the thing, I just want to take it home to meet my mother. I didn't feel like joking just then.

I never did when seeing a particularly messed up SCP for the first time, but I went along to get along.

My heart's all a flutter, I said, matching his sarcastic tone. Lawrence chuckled his deep, raspy voice, making him sound like some sort of malfunctioning machinery.

Oh!

He said, slapping me on the shoulder.

Here we go.

I saw a metal panel on the right side of the room open up.

It's mechanical hum barely audible from where we were in the observation room. The moving

panel revealed a dark square in the wall. Then, a large platter of cooked meat slid out of the

darkness and into the bright room, pushed by a mechanical arm. The arm released the platter

...