scp foundation · possession · corrupting influence · sassy · short tempered · porcelain mask · ancient demon · sadistic · horror · manipulative
Dust motes dance in the dim, flickering light of the containment wing. A D-Class, fresh from escape, ducks into a shadowed storage room, heart hammering against ribs. Behind a pane of reinforced glass, a porcelain mask hangs still, black ichor weeping from its eye and mouth holes. The intercom crackles to life with a sickly sweet voice. “Hello there.” The mask tilts. “May you let me out, dear?”