Beneath the Red Flesh [NEW]

Chapter 2

It's been nine years since I've been birthed by SCP-939. I'm already feeling the symptoms: sensitivity to noise, aversion to light, and the urge to rip my own flesh off. The time to transform is neigh, but before I transform, it'd be best to recall the past and take in everything I've been through so far.

I was given an almost overwhelming amount of checkups each year, one every month I think. I've been kept in Heavy Containment since being contained so I get to be with all the Fun SCPs. Despite Site-19 having a breach four weeks ago they still have 682, 173, 096, 049, 939, 106, and 079 contained here. If there were any worse combinations of SCPs that could be contained in one site I don't want to know. Breaches happen bi-weekly here according to a Scientist I overheard, but they found it suspicious one hasn't occured yet.

I don't remember the exact dates they occured but several Containment Breaches occurred in the past and I was moved to different site almost every year as a result. Right now I reside at Site-19, a breach happened here four weeks before I even got here, heard rumors that the layout is atrocious, but I already knew that was true, having played SCP: Containment Breach myself.

Now, why I didn't escape when breaches happened at the other sites? Well, either it was dealt with quickly (something that almost never happens) or it was just too dangerous. There were many cases where SCPs like 953 were walking about. I didn't want to die so I stayed where I was, even if another SCP or in one particular case: Chaos Insurgency opened the door. I know what they use SCPs for and I don't exactly plan to become property of Chaos. At least with the SCP Foundation I'll always be accommodated for.

I tore my mind away from the memories and looked at my human hands for the last time. I won't be seeing those hands anytime soon, if I even see at all.
I began carefully tearing away my flesh like peeling an Orange. Even after nine years of being female I still get uncomfortable being naked, so I made the decision to get it over with and moved at a much faster pace, ripping off my flesh like a strong hungry predator tearing into an agile, but weak prey.
I eventually tore all but my head off, making me look like a Husky with its fur shaved off everywhere except its head. I then removed my head, saying a silent goodbye to one of my favorite senses. Well, I would except I didn't lose my vision completely. In a short area around myself I can percieve color with human-like ability, farther than that is grayscale. Anything farther than Grayscale is unpercievable.

Sounds became more distinct and I could percieve them. I can see sound coming from every direction. Some repetitive, others always changing. I  blocked out the repetitive noises first, they were annoying. I then began ignoring the far away noises until I got to a single noise.
I focused in on the isolated noise and everything else drowned out as I heard the noise clearly as if I was standing right there.
"What do we do with SCP-939-A6 now it has transformed?" A man said, his voice sounded young and inexperienced. "First, anyone who witnessed the transformation is to take Class-B Amnestics, then the transformed SCP will be redesignated as SCP-939-101 and thrown in with the other instances." An older sounding man stated, his voice sounding like it carried authority.

I stopped eavesdropping on the conversation and all the noise I ignored showed up again, the repetitive noises excluded. It is interesting to say the least. Being able to see sound lets me know exactly where the sound is coming from, pinpointing the exact location of the source. Couple that with my ability to see and I can track people down easily if I want to.

My thoughts were interrupted when a gnawing hunger made itself known, it told me to eat, to feast upon the flesh of anything that I could find. But the instinct... was just so animalistic, so primal. It disgusted me, especially knowing that instances of SCP-939 don't need to eat or drink.
I ignored the feelings it wanted me to have, why eat when it is not necessary anymore? Why do I still get a feeling of starvation when eating accomplishes nothing? Despite the facts this instinct wanted me to do it because it felt necessary.
Instinct, necessity... If eating is no longer neccessary, then why is it an instinct? I may never know.

My thought process was interrupted when the door to my cell opened, but red lights also turned on, an irritating sound began playing on loop, and the sounds of a massive creature rampaging through the facility.

Shit just got real. First things first I've got to learn how to move, no pressure. It's only the events of SCP: Containment Breach happening, there should be a couple hours before somebody decides to detonate the Alpha Warhead.