The Anomalous Researcher

Hey! I Got Promoted!

                              Alita POV

It's been a week, a week of people doing nothing but congratulating me or demanding answers from me.  There is no in-between. But today, there are two important things to do. One, get my new clearance card, since I am now Level 2, and interview Avery. Avery is now SCP-6755, and testing with her has gone well so far.

"Congrats on the promotion!", Daisy shouts from across the lab. I'm just finishing up in here, studying some blood samples. "Thank you! I must go pick up my new ID now!", I reply.

I've changed so much, a new photo is in order as well.  The photo is taken care of quickly, thank goodness.  I don't like to waste time.  Normally, a promotion would be cause for celebration, but I have other things to do.

Junior Researcher to Researcher.  A nice step up.  I do get a salary, not much however.  I use it to pay other people for getting stuff for me.  It's how I got a laptop, a whole ton of books, and some sweaters.  I now own colorful clothing.

On the downside, after the "traumatic event" of last week, I now have to check in with Dr. Glass twice a month instead of just once.  Not only does this create more work for him, but it means less time for work for me.  So, I don't like it. 

I had a weird dream last night, that's for sure.  Back in the silver reality, a common setting for my dreams nowadays.  But this time, Avery- no, SCP-6755, was there instead of Alexandra.  All she said was "Come home, break the curse", over and over again.  Then, she yelled, "You belong to The House and The House wants you back!", and I woke up.  I don't want to acknowledge it.  Time to stop thinking about it.  I belong to no-one but The Foundation.

Sometimes I pay Dr. Bright to donate ridiculous amounts of money to charity.  It's kind of funny to imagine their reactions, especially with small charities.  Haha, they'd be so surprised.

My hand is cold.  The one that is still human, of course.  The metal one is fine.  State-of-the-art prosthetic, works like a charm.  Sometimes it still feels like my hand is there.  I miss my hand.  The new one is so cold.  So cold. 

Anyway, I have an interview to get to, and another therapy session with Dr. Glass.  Honestly, I'm fine.  Perfectly okay.  Nothing at all to worry about that I haven't already been dealing with.  Getting at what truly messes me up would mean tearing down at least twelve different walls, from all the times I've had to shift more than just a few minor personality traits. 

I doubt there's even anything behind those walls anymore.  Whatever's there, I don't want to know about it.  I locked a lot of things in there.  I locked my hope, my humanity, my empathy in there.  No Researcher needs any of those. 

No hope needed, I'll always be here.  Why would I hope for release when all I tolerate is here.  I do not love.  I like, I tolerate, but I do not love.  And why would I need humanity if I'm not human?  I can act human, but I'll always be just humanoid.  Iris could pass for human, but I could never. 

And empathy.  Many of my colleagues lack it, it's not just me.  Some of them don't have it at all, others have it for their closest friends only.  I lack it entirely, save for my innermost trusted people.  I have no friends, only coworkers. 

When both the D-Class and the anomalies are crying for mercy, you have to learn to shut them out.  To turn down their volume.  When the voices of guilt fill your head afterwards, you blast music to drown them out.  To be indifferent is something all of us have to learn.  For me, I'm sure I was born with that power. Nobody can learn to be as heartless as me.

I'm supposed to meet up with Dr. Wilson today, she is in charge of testing related to SCP-6755.  I haven't talked to her before, I don't tend to be very talkative.  I talk to Lucy, Luke, and Daisy.  Dr. Bright is fun when you need a laugh, but he's insufferable otherwise.  He's been pushed so far with everyone's jokes, he's turned the joke list into a bucket list.