Running With the Devil (SCP Fanfic)

Chapter 31: Replaceable Parts

In a forgotten area of forest, away from any cities, away from any highways or major roads, in the backdrop of civilization that most forget about trudged a robot through the land.

Many people call these quiet areas of the world home, but this place was buried deeper, behind any backwater town. A place long forgotten to many people.

The whirring of his mechanical joints followed by a crunch of dry leaves on the forest floor filled his audio receptors. The sound of the whirring grew louder and louder as his long journey drew on. Out in the wilderness, there is no way to upkeep a complex machine designed for combat like himself, but soon, he knew his joints would see oil.

RP-1-1, the first robot footsoldier given life by SCP-1010, which he knew as Mother, left the mountain facility behind a week ago. In his hand was a rectangular metal box he clung onto by a metal handle bolted on. It was painted a glossy orange with white stripes and had bold black letters that read: DO NOT OPEN MEMORIES INSIDE. It was damaged heavily with a dent in its side, exposing the bare metal under the paint.

He left the battle with nothing but this box. It was the only possession he had, but it meant a lot. But how he came across it was a different story.

Within the mountain facility, in one of its server rooms, SCP-1010 attempted to take over control, but the power was cut. Still, she managed to disable the facility's automated defensive system, leaving the air space clear.

"Battalions two and three, proceed with the attack. Dig as far into the facility as you can. Armor-1 commence assault. Air-1 commence assault," RP-1-1 radioed the rest of the force.

SCP-1010 looked at him, "RP-1-1, phase-2. All forces are under your command, distrupt any enemies, buy me time."

"Yes, Mother!" The robot gave a little salute.

She stormed off down the hallway with two black operations bots behind her, clearing the rest of the enemies and breaking into a stairwell by smashing the door off its hinges.

Watching her leave, he felt a sense of anxiety build up. He quickly ignored it, believing that a robot could not feel such emotions. But she left the entire army under his command, which meant to him only one thing: that she didn't expect to return. He turned to his troops, signaling them to keep pushing down the hallway.

Soon, more Foundation personnel arrived. They turned from simple guards to well equipped soldiers. The emergency power kept few systems on including the alarm lights planted high on the walls that seemed to build up a red glow like a stove heating up and die down when turned off. The lights weren't bright either, only staining the glossy white walls red and tinting the darkness that hung in the center of the hallway like a fog of muddy crimson.

RP-1-1 led the charge, a slow but steady walk down the hall, a step every ten seconds. The time in-between each step was enough time to put a bullet into another enemy. Bullets plinked off their metal armor which was bolted onto their frames, only a few well placed shots were the armor plates parted would put them down and that was next to impossible with the limited visibility. So the battalion continued its march into the storm of bullets until no more muzzles flashed before them.

The floor was soon mimicking the flash the glossy walls held from the alarm as blood pooling on the floor reflected its pulse.

RP-1-1 stood still, scanning the area. They had reached one of the elevator lobbies. Four elevators were on each side with a large freight elevator at the back.

Approaching the desk of the lobby, he made his way around it when a soldier popped out from behind it with a knife in hand. Reacting quickly, he grabbed the wrist with the knife in a tight hold and slammed his steel fist straight into the soldier's face with a terrifying crack. Grabbing his own knife in its holster on his chest, he unsheathed it and quickly slit the soldier's throat and pushed him aside.