TRIGGER WARNING:

This chapter contains torture and sexual abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

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A heavy pounding in your head shook you, leading to you to try to move your dazed head. Your head lifted up slightly trying to wake you. Only to sloppily fall back to your shoulder it felt so heavy and so weak. Your brow furrowed when you felt something hard and cold behind you.

Long and confusing moments passed before your eyelids finally opened. Your blurry vision revealed nothing but darkness and maybe some grey in the distance. Feeling as if the room was spinning you quickly closed your eyes again. Your heart began to race when you tried to move your arm only to realize something was holding it in place.

Forcing your eyes back open again you were met with the same blurry room. Looking down at your struggling arm your stomach began to feel sick. As Your vision began to clear, you could make out metal cuffs securing your arms and legs to a chair. Attempting to move your arms and legs only helped the panic grow inside you.

After your vision completely cleared you scanned the dark room, your body shaking against the cuffs and the metal chair. Squinting into the darkness you could barely see the wall from across the room. As the tranquilizer continued to wear off your shoulder began to burn, and a wet feeling dripped down your arm. Adding to the caked, dried blood going down your right arm.

As you stared at your aching arm a small table caught your eye. It's size and shape reminded you of what you would see at the dentist. Your heart sank at the thought. You couldn't see much of the room other than the table and a closed door on the far left wall. There was only one light inside, a dull small light that hung above your head. Illuminating you but making everything around you even darker.

Your panic began to grow as your memory of what happened replayed in your mind. You were tranquilized and taken... Your heart sank further, and so was SCP-049.

Your eyes snapped to back to the now opening door. A large man walked in humming happily wheeling some kind of cart in front of him. The cart had a little silver tray on top of it with a arrangement of tools that reflected from the light overhead.

He stopped in front of you pushing the silver tray to the side.

"Oh good, you're already awake." His voice was chipper as he looked down at you. Somehow keeping yourself from trembling you looked up at him.

He had brown matted hair that draped down his face only stopping at his blood-stained surgical mask. Along with the blood stains he had a painted smile, one long curved red smile that was obviously drawn by his finger. His eyes held a crazed and lustful look as his right hand gripped tightly onto the cart beside him. The reflective objects on the cart only amplified your fear. The light revealed scalpels, knives, syringes, small saws, plyers, and a drill.

Your stomach turned and your heart raced at the sight. You opened your mouth as if to speak only to realize that your throat had closed almost threatening to suffocate you.

He continued to hum letting go of his tray and taking out a little tablet.

"Alright, Let's see what we have for you today."

You stared at him fighting back the fear in your eyes, "where am I?" Your voice shook telling on your fear.

He smiled, "Now, I can't tell you that, that's not part of the game," his disgustingly warm voice replied. You gripped the metal arm of your chair.

His eyebrows raised then his eyes squinted from another smile. Sliding the tablet back into his pocket he continued, "this again? Well, whatever the boss wants." His voice still held that happiness from before. If anything, he seemed more excited after reading his tablet.

Your throat closed again, your breaths progressively became more and more shallow as he took out the knife from his tray. He looked over to you, "Without further ado, let's begin."

He immediately went for your hand, forcing it open and lifting your pointer finger off the metal arm rest.

"Wait wait!! What are you doing!?" you panicked trying to force your hand closed and away from him.

"I wouldn't fight me if I were you." He warned his voice still held the same tone.

You again fought for your finger, "Stop! Please I don't understand-"

"Shut up!" His chipper voice switched to a demanding and cruel yell. You opened your mouth again only for him to open his hand and slap You across the face. You went silent staring up at him with a stinging face. "You aren't getting out of this sweetheart." He held tightly onto your finger.

"I need to find the perfect opening for you." His chipper voice slowly returned as he moved the knife next to your fingernail. You froze watching the tip of the knife poke the bottom of your nail.

Tears flooded your eyes and a loud scream escaped your tight throat when the knife was immediately shoved underneath your fingernail. The knife went further than your nail, separating a few layers of skin behind your nail. You gripped the chair and clinched your jaw from the pain. The man then pulled up lifting the nail up, then grabbed a pair of pliers and grabbed the raised nail. The nail barely clung onto your tortured and bloody skin. He then slowly pulled the nail off of your nail bed earning another tearful scream from you.

Your tears fell down your cheek when the nail got stuck, stopped by your cuticle and a strip of skin fighting to keep your nail in place. With another pull your skin ripped up your finger along with your nail. It was as if he was trying to tear a tiny piece off of a corner of a paper only to accidentally rip a giant chunk out.

He laughed, "Whops," he said amused as he held your clinging nail up he brought a dull pair of scissors to your layer of skin.

You wept as he pinched your skin over and over again with the dull rusted scissors. It slowly crunched trough nerves, tissue and finally separated your nail from your skin. You felt nauseous from the pain, gagging on an empty stomach. You whimpered, it felt like the pain would never end. You never could have imagined the level of pain losing a fingernail would cause.

"Oh you poor thing," he chuckled examining your tortured finger. "after all that I can't even use this opening."

You wept harder.

"It's alright we will just have to make another one."

He let your finger go, letting it fall limp on the metal arm rest. Your finger burned like you had never felt before, you had been shot twice, bitten by a wolf like beast, and had jeans ripped out of your skin. But this, you stared down at your empty nail bed and severed skin ripped almost up to your second knuckle. It was a level of pain that was foreign to you, such a small wound, but so much pain.

You gagged again when another surge of pain rippled up your finger and up your arm. It all happened so fast. He re-picked up the knife and looked at your fingernails again.

"Why are you doing this?" You asked, your voice weak. You stared up at his soulless black eyes.

He hummed again, "it's an experiment my dear, you see my boss, he likes to test his creations."

Your tearful eyes stared helplessly at him, "Creations?"

"Yes! Today I get to introduce you to your new friends." He put the knife down again and pulled out a glass box.

Your breathing hitched when you saw familiar creatures inside, "you worked at the SCP Foundation right? So I'm sure you'd recognize SCP-439?" You stared in horror at the little white bugs crawling around inside the box.

"Well, these are a little different- or modified is what they should be called. You see before they only could enter your body orally, well, now they can enter through almost any opening," he smiled at your expression.

"I just have to find the perfect place." He set the box back on the tray. He turned back to you with squinting eyes. "It's ironic isn't it?"

You stared up at him pain and confusion evident in your eyes.

"Only a year ago you would have been considering me as just an experiment... You would have been calling me disposable."

Your eyes widened in realization, "Now," he pat the glass box with a laugh, "Now it's your turn,"

You opened your mouth as if to respond but another wave of pain shot through your arm making you flinch. He seemed to delight in your pain until your shoulder caught his eye.

"Oh, what you got here?" He reached his arm out to your injured shoulder. His bloody fingers traced your bandages underneath your coat. "Hey! You've got something underneath here! You sneaky little thing," he teased unzipping your jacket.

You struggled against metal cuffs, your heart racing as he unzipped much further than he needed to exposing your breasts and stomach.

He chuckled at you, "Well well." He pulled down his mask revealing nose and his crusted lips.

"Aren't I lucky?" He asked starring at your chest he made his intent abundantly clear by biting and licking his bottom lip. Your trembled under his gaze feeling violated by his eyes.

You stared at him with another horrified look before he continued.

"Don't worry, I still have plenty of time to come back to this..." He turned his attention back to your shoulder, pulling your jacket down your arm to reveal the bandages.

He began to humm again using the dull scissors to cut your bloody bandages. Unravelling the remains of your dressings a huge smile plastered on his face when he looked down at your bullet wound and torn stitches.

"My, that will do perfectly..." His eyes flickered back to your face. "I just have to do a little something first." He stared at your body, his eyes full of a disgusting lust that made you wish you could just disappear.

Reaching his hand out he pulled the other sleeve of your jacket down revealing your good shoulder. You trembled when he brought his face closer to yours, "it's been a while since I've had the chance to do this," he whispered making the tears fall down your face again. "Torture and experiments is only so much fun, plus I haven't had a woman in here for a long while..."

Your heart raced as you fought against him in your locked chair and you attempted to kick him with restrained legs when you felt his cracked and dry lips touch your neck.

"Stop! Get off of-" his hand slammed against your injured shoulder keeping it in place and shutting you up from the impact. You cried out in pain when He stuck his fingers into your bullet wound. Breaking stitches and destroying what little healing your body had worked so hard to do. He ran his other hand down your chest and stomach.

You wanted to scream, run, or punch the sadistic creep in the face... Anything. You even tried to squish his face between your head and shoulder. It got him away from your neck, but that only seemed to encourage him to unbutton your jeans then reach to his own pants.

"Stop!"

He rolled his eyes taking his hand back to your face, "You really need to learn when to shut up." He growled waving a finger at your face. He then reached out to touch your cheek, the perverted look back in his eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak again and without a second thought you did the only think you could think to do. Opening your mouth you bit down on his hand with all you could. He yelled and a searing pain ignited in your wound from his fingers ripping out from your shoulder. The pain loosened your bite giving him the chance to free his hand.

"What is WRONG with you!??" He screamed backing up and holding his hand to his chest.

Your eyes furrowed at his question until your face turned to pure dread. He slammed his fist on the table beside you making you jump.

"I can't believe I was just about to waste my time on you. That was supposed to be someone else's job."

You trembled your breath catching on your pain and the inevitable when he picked up the glass box again.

"Such small creatures, so much damage. And all the revenge I need." He whispered.

"But I never did anything to you," you whimpered looking from the box of bugs to him.

"Oh, yes I'm sure you've never sent a D-class to their death. I'm sure you've never took your stupid notes as we were tortured until we finally died."

You opened your mouth to protest only to have to close your mouth again, sure you had never sent a D-class to an experiment before, but you had watched. You hated watching it but you still hadn't done anything to stop it.

"I am one of the lucky ones, I somehow didn't even loose a limb." He explained, "but never mind that, I have to actually let these little guys do their thing."

"I'm sure you know how these guys work?" He asked anger still lingering in his voice. He glanced at you looking victorious at your fearful expression.

"Well now at this stage these guys can multiply every minute, we get to completely skip the larvae stage and eggs." He unlocked the container, "we've tested them a few times and each time the test subject never lasts a day."

Your stomach fell looking at the white creatures inside crawled around the sides of the glass. There were only about five of them, but at the rate that they reproduce at this age you would be completely infested in hours. Kayden's body crept back into your mind, the whole mystery how he could be infested so fast... The man put his mask back on and grabbed his tweezers. Could this be what happened.

Your focus snapped back to the man who now picked up one of these bugs in his tweezers. You fought against your restraints as he brought the bug closer to your shoulder. The bugs squirmed in his grasp, it's little white legs and abdomen wiggling everywhere. It sent tiny needles down your spine giving you that dreaded creepy crawly feeling.

You couldn't breath when he hovered the squirming insect over your bullet wound. Bringing the small bug closer and closer to the opening.

Kayden's corpse came back to mind. Infested with insects swarming the inside of his body. All the holes and tunnels on his body looking similar to a bee hive. Your mind quickly replaced Kayden's body with your own. Starting with your bullet wound the bugs would eat you inside out until you were nothing but an infested shell. Your eyes again flooded with tears at just the thought of bugs tunneling inside you as well as the sheer amount of pain they would cause.

"Please don't," you tried to spit out.

"Ohh, you're all out of pleas my dear," he stated holding up his other hand to show a now bleeding bite mark.

You closed your eyes when he opened your wound with his thumb sending searing pain up your arm to place the SCP inside you.

An opening door echoed through the room making both you and the man jump. Opening your eyes you were met with two green suited guards walking into the room.

"Hey! I'm working here!" The man yelled at them moving the bug away from your shoulder.

They didn't even spare the man a glance before they were at your side unlocking your hand and leg cuffs.

"There's been a mistake, she wasn't supposed to be in here." One said emotionless.

Your weak eyes filled with hope even with your anxiety peaking, threatening to make you gag again. Free, you dared to move your tortured arm only to bite your tongue to keep from crying out in pain.

One of the guards quickly zipped up your jacket. The man backed away from you with anger evident, "What do you mean there was a mistake?"

"Someone put her in here, we're not completely sure who."

The man rolled his eyes as they lifted your weak body out of the chair so you could try and walk.

Stepping into the hard floor your legs wabbled threatening to force you to collapse. You then were escorted out of the room; you could hear the man arguing with the guards further but after a while your hearing seemed to get fuzzy. As blood gushed down your arm from your open wound it was hard to find the strength to stand let alone walk.

When they finally took you out of the room you were met with a blurry dark hallway. It reminded you somewhat of the facility but it was significantly less perfect and clean. Your steps didn't make nearly as much noise as they did on the facilities floors, although that could be a part of your blood loss. You cringed fighting back tears after every step, pain rocketed through your arm and your torn finger.

They walked you down the hall towards an elevator where you couldn't seem to stand any more. Your legs growing limp as the world spun around you. Your body grew weak forcing your eyes shut and everything around you to disappear.

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Distant beeping stirred you allowing you to slowly be pulled back to consciousness. You could barely feel the pain anymore, all that was left was a mild stinging on your finger and your shoulder slightly burned.

Slowly you opened your eyes only to be met with a cream-colored wall. Everything was so quiet, only your head felt the same fuzziness as before. Scanning the room, you saw nothing but hospital beds, medicine cabinets and other medical devices. It reminded you vaguely of the safe room from the facility, yet this one was much more welcoming.

Looking up you found the source of the beeping. It was a heart rate monitor. Two IV drips were stationed next to it as well. Pulling your weak finger out from the blankets you studied the fresh bandages, the covered both your finger, shoulder, leg and side. Your stomach sank, now it really felt like how it was in the safe room when he had helped you and bandaged you then as well. Where was he now? After what they had done to you already, you couldn't imagine what they would try with him. Was he okay?

"Ah finally, Good morning." A new voice brought you away from your thoughts and over towards the source.

Your heart rate monitor beeped faster as you panicked at the sudden noise. Hopping up and backing away from the voice.

An older man walked in, his eyes looked startled by your reaction, "it's alright, I'm not here to hurt you." He tried to consul you.

He wore a doctor's coat with a small pair of glasses that fell down the bridge of his nose. His white hair was thin and was positioned to the left to try and hide two long scars on the side of his head. One of the most notable factors about him was his eyes, still vibrantly blue dispite the rest of his fading tones.

"My name is Dr. Snow, How are you feeling today?" He asked, his voice was warm, the best way you could describe it would be happily sympathetic. It somehow made you feel calmer despite your initial panic. He was a complete contrast to the masked man you had met not too long ago.

Hesitating you finally replied, "I'm ok, where am I?" You tried to ask the question again.

"You're in the infirmary." He answered checking on your vitals. His eyes caught your unamused expression. "And that's all I can tell you now, I'm sorry."

You pressed your lips together, "how long was I asleep?"

"Only a day. And by the looks of it your body really needed it. When you arrived, you were severely dehydrated and needed a blood transfusion and your wounds needed to be treated."

He paused after he said that, "I am curious about one thing, before me, who did your stitches?"

Your stomach began to sink again, "why do you ask?"