The UnLondon Account (SCP 1678)

Chapter 7 | A Message

Aiden and I sat in silence. It had been like that for over a day now. Ever since he'd told me the truth about his encounter with SCP-217, I could barely look at him.

This crippling silence created room to think. The thousandths that raced through my head mainly consisted of questions, like how could Aiden lie to me? Or, more accurately, how could he keep such a large secret from me?

Eventually, I grew sick of the silence and rose to my feet. Without a single word in Aiden's direction I left the room and headed for the rooftop of our temporary base. My legs were tired, so I had not intention of going far. I just wanted to get away from Aiden. He'd lied to me and I couldn't get over it. It didn't matter that his variation of SCP-217 wasn't infectious or fatal, it was the fact that he withheld the information. I'd heard of being stabbed in the back before, but this was more like being stabbed in the chest and having the knife twisted...around and around. An agonising lie.

Nonetheless I reached the top of our base, which was an average Victorian style house, located near UnLondon's version of the river Thames. I looked out at the city, the underground air filling my lungs. I remembered, once, I had idolised UnLondon. Once, I had dreamed of visiting UnLondon and I'd like to say that feeling had longing since been pummelled into nothing, crushed into dust. But to say that would be a lie. The truth was that simply being in UnLondon had renewed me.

It was weird to think that entering UnLondon had made me think that all my life something had been missing. But it's like UnLondon called to me, like siren on a rocky shore. UnLondon's deadly beauty called to me, but simply being in the city wasn't enough. Something else within UnLondon's limits called to me, I had no idea what it was.

I sat up against a chimney, that jutted out from the roof top. The building's surface was cool to the touch and radiated mystery. "Why do you call to me?" I questioned the cold empty city in little more than a whisper.

A tear slipped from my eye. I squeezed my eyelids together in an attempt to drown out the sadness of being trapped in UnLondon. But as I closed my eyes, my mind was bombarded with images of my dead colleagues, the images of their deaths burned into my mind, their screams like a broken record playing on repeat in my head.

Another tear slipped from my eye, as slowly I drifted off to a cacophony of screams.

•••

"Echo. Alpha. Charlie. Hotel." Words screeched in to the night (or what I thought was night) as my pocket buzzed with life.

I wiped my eyes as I surveyed my surroundings. Eventually, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the radio I'd fixed earlier. It had finally dried out and now buzzed with life.

"Charlie. Oscar. November. Tango. Alpha. India. November. Mike. Echo. November. Tango. Bravo. Romeo. Echo. Alpha. Charlie. Hotel." The words at first seemed nonsensical. That was until I recognised what was being transmitted. It was the phonetic alphabet, that spelled out 'containment breach.'

With that knowledge I focused on the words more intently. "Uniform. November. Lima. Oscar. November. Delta. Oscar. November." The second message spelled out 'unlondon', with my limited information I inferred that what was being transmitted was a distress signal explaining that there nah been a containment breach at UnLondon.

I let the message play again. "Charlie. Oscar. November. Tango. Alpha. India. November. Mike. Echo. November. Tango. Bravo. Romeo. Echo. Alpha. Charlie. Hotel. Uniform. November. Lima. Oscar. November. Delta. Oscar. November." As I let the message replay something in my mind clicked.

I recognised the voice.

It was a male's voice, a familiar male voice. A voice is heard many times before, a voice that I had convinced to bring me to this city. A voice I'd spent many nights with. A voice that I'd heard sensual moans from.

The man's was Donald McNeil.

Immediately, I spoke through the radio's microphone and replied to Donald's voice. "Donald!" I snapped eagerly, my voice carrying throughout the cavern.

"Elise!" The voice replied almost immediately. "Elise is that you?" Donald asked his voice crackling over the static of the radio.

"Yeah. Yeah it is." I smiled under my breath in relief.

"Where the hell are you lass?"

"The west side of the Thames— although...let's meet." I suggested.

"Where?" Donald asked. "At base camp?" Donald suggested.

"Alright. That's fine, be there within the next hour. Jesus, it's so good to know there's more than just two people alive." I spouted without thinking about my words first.

"Well that's not exactly true lass. There's another lass with me and a funny fella- I think the fella bats for the other team, if you know what I mean." Donald replied.

I chuckled, "holy shit, I'm so glad we're not the only ones. Alright I've got to get ready. See you soon?" I asked.

"Yeah ye will" Donald replied, as the radio once again went silent.

I smiled at the thought of seeing Donald once again. The thought of Donald was a light in the bleak darkness of UnLondon's murky grasp. It would only be a short time until me and Donald were finally reunited, I needed a friendly face, one that wouldn't lie to me or hurt me like Aiden did.

With a new hope in my heart I ventured back down into the base. However, before reaching Aiden the thought crossed my mind to just leave and not tell Aiden. To leave him alone, to have his metal body beaten and broken by a Bobby. But finally compassion took over and I continued down to Aiden. Downstairs to begrudgingly inform Aiden of the new revelation from Donald across the radio.