Glacial Motion (An SCP Reader Insert)

[Alpha] CH.01 - S,0X447/1 (Pt1)

[Trigger Warning - Themes of abuse, graphic descriptions of this abuse.]

Ninth. It's the ninth time in the span of five hours that you've been jolted awake with hardly seconds before your body feels as if it would shut down out of malfunction to rest.

You have no will to sleep again, as each time you've been torn from the nothingness you couldn't describe as a dream, your body boiled with a writhing heat under your skin that compelled you once again to head to the bathroom to dunk your head in the sparcely heated water of a "hot" shower to keep from freezing yourself if you dared for what was a cold shower in your household.

You lived in, unequivocally, a dump. Dank in every corner, graced by the useless, even more so improbable, touching up of what was your aunt. Foster, aunt. A woman whose miserable spouse hoarded funds to spend on getting closer to the grave with every burning puff.

She was nothing to be proud of either, but you hardly payed any mind to her, regardless of the times she'd beat her words into your skin in brisk, sharp strikes. You grew accustomed to abuse, as it kept you in a home, and it gave you the baltic water that chilled your qualms and involuntary swells alike.

It had been fifteen minutes before the heat subsided and left your skin, and at that, your ever perked ears caught the booming bark of your foster as to get out of the bathroom in what felt like a millisecond to avoid her wrath.

Though you scrambled, turning the water off and whipping your unnatural, long (h/c) out of your eyes to charge for your room, it was inevitable that you were caught at the door in now soaked clothes you tugged on out of dignity, and thrown roughly into the hall.

With vicious intent, the woman picked up a key from atop the cabinet near the stairs, that escaped this wretched place to the ground floor and through the main door directly in front, and mashed said key forcefully against your cheek.

She ranted on how you weren't to waste her water on yourself, and how a hundred times under water wouldn't douse you of the filth that you were. To her credit, you were indeed filthy, but at that from her horrid treatment.

Scarlet fluid leaked down in droplets to the floor, but you simply hadn't the sufficient rest to concentrate on her ramblings anymore, nor enough to stop the pathetic whimper that you responded with to the pain.

It was about half an hour of beating you endured before she finally left, to sleep and mull over the spouse that had left her years ago. Not that you cared, as you wiped away the blood, smudging it on your wrist as you walked over to the mirror in the hall to check the damage.

Your hair was wild and messy from the struggle, your left eye was a deep icy blue oval in pure black that recently drained of colour like your other, more normal (e/c) eye. Your face was peppered by marks and a fresh cut on your cheek, your chest was flat as can be, and emblazoned by all sorts of injury, such like your thin limbs. You felt your stomach ache from both malnutrition and the large bruise newly forming on your right side, and most notably, you wore what could be complemented by being described as rags.

You wore worn leather boots, torn black leggings, a shirt so tattered it looked like aged papyrus and undergarments that could hardly even be called usable. All you had other than that was a blindfold you were often forced to wear if going anywhere out of the house. You could see without using your eyes, but it really hurt to do so for long periods, as it gave you a headache to sense what was around.

As you fixed your hair by hand, you debated whether you should go and read in the local library whilst your foster was unfocused on you. It was nearly impossible to gain any knowledge, as much as you craved, as the woman you lived with could at best be called a Phillistine.

After a minute of thinking, it was obvious, and you packed your things, being just a single item you had as an orphan, being a singular chess piece, made from ivory and ebony, half and half. Ornate and beautiful; it was none other than a queen, vertically half in white, and half in black. It was equal to you. Your entire right side was much darker than the pale right half, attributed to 'vitiligo' from birth.

This was what earned you so much hate. You were blamed for unrelated issues because you were different, and different was prohibited, something to fear, or to control.

You were done being abused, though. And as you pocketed your precious chess piece, you left your room with a dirty comforter wrapped around your delicate form and ran down the stairs before bolting out of the house, planning to not return this time, as even the homeless had a better chance at finding food than you did before that woman would have starved you.

Regardless of how you felt much better outside, you still needed to keep running with your heavy limbs until you were safely to the public library, as you knew that woman wanted her foster money, and that meant she was right after you.

Such was proven by a quick glance behind as you picked up your pace without the energy to be doing it at all. The adrenaline, after so long, must be the reason, you thought.

It didn't take long to outrun that hag and make it to where you wanted to be. As you entered the library and caught the attention of the attendant, your eyes felt heavy, and suddenly, your legs finally gave out from the stress.

Just like that, you could no longer resist your fatigue as you heard a faint voice call out your name in surprise. Or at least the one you told people to call you until you trusted them. "(Fake Name)?!".

[1049 words, Sufficient content?]

[A/n time.

My very first story on wattpad! What a miracle I made it to a thousand words without advancing the plot too quickly, as I am prone to do.

This is extremely early in this story's development, and whilst I expect a while zero people to read this, if you are here, then I appreciate the read, and hope you enjoyed this first page.

It's a bit brutal, though.

If you have anything that might help me to improve, or anything that's not very well done in this alpha stage of the story, then please do tell! I would find it very helpful to know what my audience wants, as I feel there's not enough SCP works for people that want them, like me, and wish to make a good story for you all on Wattpad.

Thank you.
Author Øwuelen out.]