(The New) Power of the 8 Elements: Part Two

Chapter Fifteen: Never Forget

"Cowards make the best torturers. Cowards understand fear, and they can use it." - Mark Lawrence
1 YEAR AGO
THRAX

"Hands behind your back," the lead containment specialist said, shoving me forward.

I was already beaten and sore enough. My legs felt as if they were going to give up on me.

"Frisk 'im," he ordered.

Armed soldiers stood by the doors while a few began running their hands all around my body. One shoved his hand into my chest floof and pulled out the various items I kept in there. A scientist, short in stature, jumped in front of me and took a picture of me. The flash blinded my eyes for a second. Once the photo developed, he handed it to the woman that put me in this situation.

With her free hand, she took the photo and looked at it before looking back up at me.

"You want us to shave them down?" a bespectacled scientist asked, holding up my left hand and primarily motioning at the longest claw.

"They're connected to bone," she said.

"Mmf," she said with a shrug, setting the nail filer down.

"You know what to do when you're done," the woman said, leaving the room.

They brushed my hair and combed harshly through every tangle. They ran through my pockets inside and out and sprayed a hose at my chest, then used a vacuum to clean everything out before combing through it dexterously. After that, tests were run. Lots of tests. They tested the abilities of all my senses—which I knew were far heightened than normal. They then measured the diameter of my chest and poked and prodded at my fangs. As one "doctor" measured the length of my legs, another had me stick my tongue out as they measured its length. I was half tempted to spit venom at him. It was gathering in the back of my mouth, but I refrained from doing so and tried to sit patiently while people touched me with their cold gloves hands.

"Sit here," a woman said.

She snapped her fingers, and the rest of the lab-coat wearing scientists left the cramped room. I looked around and then jumped from the counter I sat on. The room had no windows to jump from, and the door had a peculiar lock that I'd never seen before. I hissed out of anger before scraping my longest finger against the wall. Nothing happened. The cracks dissipated almost instantly.

"Don't bother," the woman said.

I turned around to find her standing in the doorway.

"It won't work. The drugs you've been given will limit your abilities, so there's no way out."

"What the h*ll did you to do me?" I snarled.

"You did this to yourself. Do you have a name?"

I growl animalistically and crawl away from her.

"Good. You won't need one. You never did. You're SCP-6536 now."

"Excuse me?"

"This place...we work to save humanity. You're a threat, you know. You can put many people in danger, and we don't want anyone to get hurt? I mean, you wouldn't want anyone to get hurt? Our tests..." She pulled out a clipboard and began looking over. "...conduct you have a top speed of 300 miles per hour. A height of eight and a half feet. 20/20 vision. You're a work of art. A peculiar species."

"I'm no art to you. I'm an experiment!" I shouted.

"We've never had anything like you before."

"The fuck do you want with me?"

"That isn't for you to know."

"So when can I leave? If all you wanted was a goddamn "check-up" on me, why didn't you just say so?"