SCP-5043

Show Off: AKA Tord Fucks Shit Up

Tord threw papers around his desk, set on finding a certain box. He finally spotted the matte sheen of the case. It was a chess set, one he had brought from his home, so none of the pieces were missing. The board itself was made of dark and light wood, and the pieces themselves were made of black and white marble. He opened the door and began to make his way towards Tom's cell. It was a much shorter walk to his cell now, since he had been moved out his previous office upon his request. His new office was much smaller than his old one, but he worked around it.

The seconds flew by as he entered Tom's cell, and began one of their countless games of chess.

Now, in the midst of playing (and winning) chess, Tom had been feeling...on edge. He felt nervous and fluttery, but like...in a good way? Tom had no idea why he was so happy, but he would gladly take this nervous feeling over anything else.

Tom was nearly about to take down Tord's king, which wouldn't matter much because Tord had requested that they play for pieces, since Tord wasn't necessarily the best at chess. Tom analyzed the board, planning his next course of action. Then, while Tom was thinking, Tord was silently moving one of his pieces to take out Tom's queen.

"The queen is dead!" Tord shouted in mock surprise.

"You can't do that! Violation of chess rule #368! Using the opponent's thinking time to take out pieces!"

"Is there really a chess rule like that?"

"Of course!" Tom stated, pointing his finger in the air like he was recalling it from memory, then pointing at Tord, "Nah, I just made it up to get you. And it worked! Because you're such a nooooob at chess. Yup that's you."

"Shut up!" Tord shouted, pushing Tom by the shoulders.

"Nooooooob! You are a...nooooob!" Tom retaliated by poking Tord's face.

"If you won't stop, then I guess I'm leaving." Tord sighed, beginning to pack up the board.

"Wait!"

"What? What is it?" Tord asked with a funny accent, enunciating each word.

Without saying another word, Tom leaned forward and hugged Tord tightly.

Tord immediately felt his face heat up as Tom squeezed the life out of him. He unconsciously took a deep breath, catching a whiff of wet dog and a slight tinge of alcohol.

"Uh- I'll uh...see you later Tom." Tord breathed as he snapped the case shut and hastily made his way towards the door. He could feel Tom's pits for eyes burning a hole in his back, and made an effort to not turn around.

He stopped right outside the closed cell door, and stayed perfectly still, trying to process what the hell just happened. Tom hugged him. Made unauthorized contact with a staff member. Normally, this would result in some sort of punishment for the SCP, but in this case...Tord didn't quite mind. Or he did. Even Tord himself didn't quite know.

...

Tom knew he was awake, but decided against it. He held his eyes shut and tried his hardest to stay still, barely noticing he was sitting upright. He had learned to sleep on uncomfortable surfaces very quickly once he'd arrived at that place so long ago. Finally, a scraping noise jolted him out of his half-slumber. As his eyes snapped open, he suddenly noticed everything had a slight green tint to it. And it looked sort of...pixelated? But it all looked so clear at the same time.

Tom soon figured out what the scraping noise had come from. And by soon I mean immediately. A metal door had opened and closed and the patter of shoes suggested that someone walked through. He tried to standing up, but found out rather quickly that his hands were tightly cuffed to the table. So tightly, in fact, the he could barely move his fingers due to lack of circulation. Tom struggled to slip his out of the restraints, when a familiar laugh reverberated in the small room.