SCP Foundation Oneshots

Enouement and Butterflies

‘Enouement, N. The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self.’. He was in a state of rubatosis, every little flickering, dying, beat of his heart was loud like a drum in his ears. He didn’t feel pain, he knew it was there but it was just a numb throb against his temples like those headaches he got when he first met Alto. He could feel the throb move to his heart, an almost painful ache deeply embedded in the crevices of his heart.

He could feel the musk of ellipsism clouding his thoughts, the sadness that he’ll never be able to know how history will turn out churning his gut like the feel of blood running down his face, he’ll never get to see his son marry, he’ll never get to see his daughter blow out her birthday candles, he’ll never get to see Alto again.

Tears brimmed his eyes, falling down his cheeks in tinted red hues. Alto’s laugh rang softly in his head, one that happened in the morning with a cup of coffee in hand. He looked content then, lazy and warm in a shirt he knew the other stole from his dresser and a pair of pineapple shorts Bright got him as a gag gift. Bright never knew how much Alto loved them.

His laugh was only beaten by Draven’s own excited guffaw, jumping into the room with Abon hot on his heels, her hair almost completely blocking her sight as she jumped at him, smile wide and happy. She was the one who always woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed in the morning.

He felt light on his feet, content and calm in the warmth of his home that held many memories. His and Alto’s honeymoon, the day they brought Draven home since his birth, the same with Abon’s, the birthdays and anniversaries and random dates that etched into his mind.

He felt Draven’s hand in his, the one not safely clutching Abon from falling, a happy tight squeeze before he jumped away to the living room that he knew James was in. Abon left his arms after that, the call of breakfast carrying her away to the made table. The other man took another sip of his coffee before striding close, a gentle sound emitting from his throat. Alto’s lips were soft against his own, a quick chaste little thing before he pulled away, the chorus of Draven and Abon’s mock disgusted sounds following another burst of laughter from the one he loved, a soft “I love you.” escaping his lover’s lips.

Kondraki’s tongue grew heavy in his mouth with the feel of iron ladened blood covering it like a blanket, he could hear Gears’ heavy breathing, the gun shaking in his hand. “I’m so sorry Ben, I’m so sorry…”.

Kondraki’s head lolled as he shook his head, gazing at the broken man in front of him. The other man was shattered, loss and grief containing his form after Iceberg’s passing. Kondraki sorrowfully thought about how Alto would react to his passing.

His eyes closed, his last words dying with his breath.