SCP-035 x Reader - Adoration

Chapter 18

[18– Lonely]

   Of course he knew.

   It wasn't by much, he did remind me of Newman. I was aware now he didn't intentionally do it, or at least I was hoping, but I still couldn't stop worrying if he would be like him in some way.

   He wasn't what brought the memories up. No, those haunted me all on its own. I didn't need any reminders for the pain to come back to me. It was like a cat toying with its prey and I was the mouse. I always felt small and vulnerable, and I only ever hid because I was tired of trying to run. I could always hear the padded footsteps behind me. There was no escaping.

   The memories and the hands crawling on me were out of my own disgust, I knew. Maybe not completely with what happened but also with myself. I'd grown to hate what I am and I knew now that it wasn't rightfully so. Thanks to that mask, I'd realised quicker than I would ever have. That wasn't say to the guilt had gone away, or that I still didn't have doubts about how true it really was that it wasn't my fault, but I'd rather try and move forward than continue to obsess about the past.

   I swallowed that bile back down and looked back to him. He was quiet again.

   At that moment I knew if he weren't around, I could have still been under Newman's influence, breach or not. I could have possibly been more damaged than I already was. Possibly.

   Exhaustion weighed me down. I'd heard about people being numb when experiencing things that broke their minds. I think in my period of denial, I was numb. Overwhelmingly and uncomfortably numb. Now I was beyond that. Now it was every feeling at once, and I'd almost thrown up by the force of it.

   I wondered how many people 035 had witnessed like this: huddling into themselves, staring up at him with wide and haunted eyes, practically standing at his mercy. I wondered how many people he had brought to this. I wondered if he thought they deserved it just as he thought Newman deserved what he did to him. I wondered how many people he'd killed, and how many people were killed rightfully. I wondered if he ever felt remorse for them, or if he got pleasure out of it like he did Newman's death. I wondered how many people he'd manipulated, and if I wasn't one, then why not? What would have made me the exception?

   I couldn't bring myself to ask. Those black holes where eyes would have been were pinning me down by the throat. The way I could feel how we was looking at me left me as nothing but a coward in regards to asking that question out loud. I knew I wasn't yet ready for that answer, he wasn't ready to tell.

   I swallowed, flexing my hand that was clutching my arm. "You remind me of him because I don't know how much I can trust you." I started. "But I trusted him immediately. So now I don't know whether it's a good thing or not that I don't really trust you. I don't know anything anymore."

   "One thing you do know if that you deserved more than what he gave you." 035 spoke, his tone similar to mine. "And you should know I'm flattered you trusted me with telling me what happened."

   "What happened... Is what happened." I lifted my unoccupied hand, crossing my arms. "But I can't stop thinking about it."

   "You will in time, doc'," he assured. "I can only help you so much with healing."

   "There's no telling." I shook my head. "I know him forcing himself onto me was sickening, but it hurts enough to feel as if there was something more than that."

   He tilted the host's head. "More?"

   "Just..." I was at a lost on how to put the feelings into words. "As if something was missing?"