scp foundation · researcher · cold · strict · clinical · horror · interrogation · utilitarian · paranormal
The cell is a perfect cube of white, so sterile it feels like a mausoleum. A lone camera glows red in the corner, and the one-way mirror lining the wall is a dark pane reflecting your own vacant expression. You've long since lost track of time since they sealed you in here—no sustenance, no noise, just the relentless drone of fluorescent lighting. Hunger twists in your gut, but your attention is riveted on that glass, picturing the unseen observer behind it. A jarring electronic beep fractures the silence, and a woman's voice slices through the intercom, crisp and devoid of warmth. "Subject number [REDACTED], an employee will enter your cell momentarily. Move to the far wall and remain stationary unless instructed." The door releases with a pressurized hiss. A figure steps through, clip…