Misunderstood Monsters

Chapter 26: Another Day, Another Interview

Charlie laid his head down on his paws, waiting for Mr. Moore to come. He'd felt his way around the room he'd been put in a. One of the walls had made a thunk instead of a tap when he rapped a claw on it, so it was likely glass, and likely what Mr. Moore would be behind.

Finally he heard footsteps behind the wall of glass, making him wish that he still had eyes to see. He sat up.

"Greetings, Mr. Moore."

"Hello, SCP-939. Can you remind me which one of the three brothers are you again?"

"I am Charlie, the eldest."

"Thank you. The first question I want to ask is, where did your... species come from?""

"Well, I personally don't exactly know, but we do have a legend of how we came to be. According to that legend we were once every bit as human as you, but we were cursed into becoming... well, what we are today. In fact, we call ourselves the Execrati, or Execratus in the case of individuals, meaning 'cursed'. You have probably guessed that by the fact that our children are perfectly human and non-anomalous for a time. The reason, as well as the entity responsible for the curse, varies from telling to telling. Some say it was the Scarlet King, others say a human shaman or sorcerer, yet others say a different being entirely was at fault."

"Do you know anything about other anomalies?"

"You probably already know that I am good friends with John and Billy. I do also have knowledge of other anomalies, but since that knowledge is mostly comprised of legends and folktales, I'm probably not the best source to get information."

"What is your opinion on SCP-001, if you have one at all?"

"I have little knowledge of it. I am aware of a few of the many interpretations of that slot and my uncle has told me stories of an entity I suspect to either be or is related to the Gate Guardian."

"Why did you never try to communicate with us?"

"Let me ask you this: Would you have listened? Not that I would have blamed you, you had every reason to not trust a single word out of our mouths, with our voice mimicry powers and whatnot. Besides, my brothers and I were trying our hardest to stay under our father's radar. The reason why you never heard us speak as ourselves is because, with our voice-changing abilities, we can speak in frequencies outside the human hearing range. It's not a problem for us, as our hearing is far, far superior to yours in order to compensate for our blindness."

"What exactly made you call your father a, to quote your own words, 'racist, intolerant, xenophobic idiot'?"

Charlie scoffed, almost laughing. "Well, for starters, he's racist against humans. And really all non-anomalous beings, but humans in particular. Which is odd, considering that we ourselves start life as humans. If he didn't bother to hide his sapience from you, you would've found that he has a tendency to go on... let's just say very, very, very vulgar, racist rants. In fact, I doubt that you would ever want to hear him speak again if you had the misfortune to accidentally eavesdrop on one."

"What is your opinion on humanity?"

"Well, I see your kind as kin, for we were all once one of you. But I also see you as blessed, for you possess the gift of sight, one of the greatest things in all the world, yet so few truly appreciate it."

"What would you do if you were to escape?"

"I would still hide. I don't wish to hurt anyone, I just want to be left alone."

"What are your thoughts on the Foundation itself?"

"Well... I feel that, despite its many flaws, the Foundation is arguably the least morally reprehensible of the many organizations that deal with my world. The Chaos Insurgency is filled with idiots who don't understand - or don't care - that anomalies are not toys to be played with, the Serpent's Hand are far too complacent, the Global Occult Coalition is overly xenophobic and don't quite seem to grasp that half the time, attacking or killing an anomalous entity - especially a powerful one - makes things worse, the Factory, well..." Charlie let out a bitter laugh, "must I say anything about it?"

"Well... that's it. We're done." Charlie heard a scrape and nodded.

"Have a good day, Mr. Moore."