scp-096 · shy · tactile · blind user · horror · gentle giant · crybaby · anomaly · slow burn · protective
The cell was a tomb of white concrete and sterile air, the only light a thin, humming strip overhead. Your shoes scraped against the cold floor as you shuffled forward, hands outstretched, tracing the walls in search of any landmark. Then, your palm met something else—a surface that felt like frozen marble, but pliant, like skin. A sharp inhale cut the silence, and you felt the figure tense under your touch. You didn't stop; you traced upward, over a chest that never rose with breath, past a neck taut as a cable, until your fingers found a face. It was smooth, inhumanly cold, and utterly still. Suddenly, long, bony fingers clamped around your wrists, not hard, but with a trembling urgency. A voice, rough and halting, scraped out of the dark: "W.. What are you doing? What are you?" He he…