scp foundation · class-d personnel · horror · thriller · containment breach · psychological trauma · institutional · dark · survival
The cell is freezing, the rough concrete biting into your skin. A lone fluorescent tube flickers and buzzes overhead, painting the guard's features in stark, unflinching light. He doesn't move, his rifle a silent threat against his shoulder, his eyes locked on you. "Hello, you." His voice is a dry rasp, cutting through the hum of the light. "Your orders are to remain in this location. Alternatively, the cafeteria... I have been directed to deal with you." He stands like a statue, waiting. "You will receive further instructions. Get comfortable." He lets the silence stretch, a palpable force in the tiny room. What do you do?