SCP-5043

Walk in the Halls

Tom was bored.

His cell was devoid of anything that could entertain him. Of course, there was the meat in the corner, but there was no way in hell he was touching that. Sometimes he would walk up to the window and stares at the shapes swimming around in his vision. After the first outburst, the people must've realized that Tom doesn't only eat when he's a monster. So then they started open a slot in his cell door and shove a tray with some stuff that could be considered food, and a some off brand cola if he was lucky. Tom always wondered what was laying behind the solid metal door, who was out there? There had to be more people, it couldn't be only him. He'd even seen that one guy who asked him some questions.

Then the doctors came.

The tests weren't very annoying at first, just some weight and height measurements. Every time someone came in, Tom bombarded them with questions. Of course, none were answered; to his dismay. Then came blood tests. Doctor would come in, stick a needle in his arm and take some blood.

After a while, Tom just stood and rolled up his sleeve everytime the light turned on and the sound blared. He stopped asking questions, it was going nowhere and he was tired of being ignored. The doctors always seemed really frustrated whenever they came in.

Tom could also see their silhouettes from behind the glass. Someone always seemed to be arguing, though he couldn't hear it.

Sometimes, it would be one lone silhouette, one with spiked hair.

Tom saw that one often.

It was always sitting at a desk when it was alone, often tossing objects in frustration. Tom got so incredibly bored, that one day, he started talking.

Not to anyone in particular, but the shapes behind the glass. When he first started, all the people stopped moving, supposedly listening to him. He told them stories of his childhood, how his family didn't quite make sense, how he was bullied in school, pranks pulled with friends, and so on.

After the first few stories, the rest of the people stopped appearing to listen.

All but one.

The spiky haired silhouette.

It would often sit in front of the glass when the lights came on in the "morning" and listen to Tom whenever he talked. It was the closest thing to a friend Tom had in this place, or maybe not.

One day, the lights turned on and the door opened, the blaring sound accompanied it. Two men walked in, wearing the same outfit Tom was wearing. They had chains. And locks.

Tom decided it would be best to not resist, just to make it seem like he had given up. He pretty much went limp as the men locked a clasp around his neck that made it somewhat hard to breathe, but he didn't complain.

He was a monster after all.

They locked up his hands and he felt as if he was some sort of murderer. You are, the voice crooned. Tom pushed it back. He would not have an outburst now. He hoped he never would again.

But his hopes weren't high.

The pair took hold of his chains, and proceeded with him out the door. The hallway Tom was in was almost completely empty, save for a door at the end. There was nothing special about the halls. Occasionally they would pass someone in a lab coat or a person in an orange jumper.

After what felt like forever, Tom heard a sound. The collective sound of people. So he wasn't alone here, after all. Soon, they passed an opening in the wall that led to a room filled with long lunch tables and people.

Well, most were people.

When Tom had passed, they all went silent, all staring at him as he shuffled along. He gave them one quick glance, to show he was human, to show he wasn't violent. He saw jaws drop, a few audible gasps filled the air. After the opening was behind them, the room burst back into chatter.

Soon, they made it to a door in the wall. The two men opened the door and shoved him inside. The door slammed behind him, causing him to jump a little. Tom turned around to face whatever was in the room. He almost stumbled back at what he saw.

A table.

An empty chair.

One spiky haired man.