I wondered, not for the first time, what is it that I have done that warranted my stay here? A bleak cell in a dull white color with nothing but a toilet, a sink and with my fairly uncomfortable bed on the opposite side of the small room.

My thoughts turned to the uncomfortable bed I was currently resting in. I must have some inherent sense of what a comfortable bed once was in order to ascertain that this bed is an uncomfortable one – but the moment I try and grasp the memory, just like many others, it seems to slip away, as if it were never there in the first place.

In my many hours of idle time in the facility, I became aware relatively soon that I could not recall a lot of what must have been my cherished memories from the past and, with them, a big chunk of my own personal life seems to have evaporated into thin dust. I, however, will probably never be in the position to question any of this, no matter how much I might wish to or how much I might beg.

I am a D-Class personnel, after all. A criminal convict who is working off his crimes by participating in dangerous experiments they wouldn't have anyone else do, with details regarding the end of my sentence ominously absent. 'Them' being the SCP Foundation, a secret organization that amasses various anomalies found within the world and performs experiments geared towards understanding the anomalies, or rather, the SCPs, each designated with their very own number.

In a way, they're just as bad off as the D-Classes here, or at least the sentient ones are. We are going to be trapped in here forever, and even if we did manage to get out through some miracle, we would be hunted down and brought back. And good luck getting out of here in the first place.

Escaping this place is practically impossible, seeing as one would need to flee the whole wide facility full of trigger-happy soldiers and the locked doors which need varying levels of authorization, and that's not even mentioning the insane luck you'd need to have to navigate the utter maze this place really is and get out without any sort of foreknowledge of the way. It might technically be possible, but the chance is so statistically low it's basically impossible.

With these positive things in my mind, I rose completely from my bed and took in the sight of the familiar white room I was located in. Thank god I was not claustrophobic, otherwise this place would have been the death of me. I picked up the orientation leaflet from the table and gave it an idle skim.

D-9341... my official designation in the Foundation, not entirely unlike those previously used in concentration camps, both in naming patterns and treatment. In here, you had no name you valued except for the one they designated you as if you wanted to survive. I might have considered such a treatment degrading were it not for the absolute intolerance for any and all insubordination. To them, you were nothing better than a guinea pig, and would be just as disposable, but they'd probably find a way to make a guinea pig seem like more of a waste than you, I thought when I was in a particularly cynical mood one day.

Although, you weren't forced to work all day under terrible circumstances and a watery bowl of soup in four days like in a concentration camp, so there's that going for us. One might argue that it's offset with the experiments which might easily end in your death if they go wrong, though. D-Class get the privilege of participating in the particularly volatile ones.

The door suddenly slid open. A guard in a black and white military uniform with a military helmet that covered all of his features was standing there with a military weapon in his hands. Most likely not from the military, but I didn't care either way. The guards probably shove sticks up their asses every morning much the same way the military does.

"Hey. They've got some work for ya. Do me a favor, and step out of your cell." He said gruffly.

And so I did. I noticed another guard standing next to him that I couldn't see through the cell.

"Just follow me. Oh, and by the way, we're authorized to kill", he emphasized the last word, "any disobedient test subjects, so don't try anything stupid." He said before starting to walk away with me following after him, the other guard falling in line behind me.

I scoffed mentally. As if I were stupid enough to actually try anything overt and get myself killed. Honestly, I'm not quite sure as to why they needed two guards to handle a simple Class D, as even one of them could probably shoot me down faster than I could blink. What with the professionalism and the overall secrecy of this whole facility, I'm guessing that it isn't just my intuition that these guards are probably quite a bit more competent than your average guards. Probably got a bigger stick up their asses too.

As I was walking down the hallway between the guards, I heard beeping followed by an announcement. "Attention. Site. Director. Rosewood. Please report to: Administrations. Complex."

I made a mental note of the peculiar way the speaker seemed to take his time saying each word. Is it not more efficient to simply speak your message out instead of taking your sweet time pronouncing it? Sounds either like the guy is really dedicated to his job or there is a specific reason as to why he's doing that.

I spotted another guard, looking at us as we turned the corner to the left. The guard in front of me started speaking, presumably to his fellow guard behind me.

"Maan, I'm hungry. Hey, today's pizza day down at the cafeteria, right?" He asked casually. One might think he'd be working in a more peaceful environment and not with freaky sci-fi monsters.

"Eh..uh.. Actually, I think it's tuna cassarolle." He replied somewhat shyly. I decided, as I have never heard their voices and they seem to not be as professional as the other guards, that they must be new guys.

"Oh... God damn it! Now my day's ruined. The only reason I still come here is for the pizza. I don't know what it is about that pizza, but it's delicious." He said.

I might have overestimated these guards...

I spotted two other guards escorting a Class D in a hallway closed off by glass to the opposite of the hallway I was going through.

"Tuna cassarolle, on the other hand, is a disgusting abomination, and it should be locked up in here with the rest of these freaks." He continued speaking, distaste clear in his voice.

"Uh...Oh-kaaay.." The guard behind me answered, unsure as to how to react to the casual attitude of the guard in front of me.

I have definitely overestimated these guards...

I heard another beeping as we continued walking, scientists working at the tables below the hallway.

"Feeling tired, and overworked? Freshly brewed coffee is served in the cafeteria at all hours." Well... That was useless for me, but I'm sure someone in here appreciates the reminder.

The guard behind us stayed outside as me and the guard in front of me entered the room. He turned his head to me.

"Well, we're here. Kind of disappointed I didn't get to punch you in the face, but.. ah.. whatever."

"Oh... and by the way." He said, but didn't elaborate. I looked at him holding out a paper for me. I took it and saw that it was information about SCP-173. I quickly skimmed over the contents.

I glared at him mentally as I approached the containment chamber. I hope he gets that tuna cassarolle and chokes himself with it. I ogle the yellow sign next to the door leading up to the containment chamber. A picture of a statue looking backwards to the camera in a corner of a room is shown. The text says: SCP-173. Sentient and violent.

I gulp. Well, so much for having a stress-free day. Time to be a good D-Class and do whatever it is they wanted me to do so I could return to my cell all the faster.

I noticed two other Class D personnel as the chamber door began to open, with a guard stationed on top of the little balcony above us, most likely to make sure we're doing exactly what we're supposed to be doing from a safe distance. I stand in line next to them as the doors finish opening.

"Attention, all class D personnel. Please enter the containment chamber." Cue the exact thing I didn't want to hear. I focused on the room as I went in.

It wasn't a pleasant sight that greeted me. A lone room with puddles of – blood? - and, of course, the main star of the show. I gulped as I finally focused on the statue in the corner of the room. It's facing the wall in the upper left corner. I couldn't see its face from the angle.

If this were a normal statue, I'd probably find it slightly disconcerting, were I to see it somewhere else and had no clue of what it is.

As it stands, I'm scared shitless. This isn't just some random statue some weirdo made in his basement.

...Well, it might be. But the most important thing isn't even that it's alive...

I think it's the whole 'Blink and it moves faster than you can perceive to snap your neck' thing, really.

I hear gears behind me and I turn to see the doors completely shut off with a metal clang. 'Shit', I mentally summarized. I then remembered in just whose presence I was and whipped my head to look at the statue with newfound terror. Thankfully, my prisoner comrades seemed to have more common sense at me, as they kept their eyes trained on the statue.

"Blinking." The one to the far left stated.

"Gotcha." The one next to me said. He snapped his fingers in my face, causing me to blink in surprise.

"Keep your eye on the statue, rookie." He said firmly.

"Uh, sure." I said, and did what was asked of me. The guy ran both hands down his face and resumed looking at it.

"You new with Billy here, rookie?" I assume he's referring to me, but...

"Billy?" I asked. Is he talking about the-

"It's how some of us have taken to calling SCP-173 over here." He shrugged. "It's less of a mouthful." Then he turned his head to the other guy without losing sight of SC- screw it, he's Billy from now on. It really is a mouthful.

"Blinking." He said to him.

"Got it." He said. It's kinda ironic that two D-Classes were more professional than those guards earlier. Well, it's not their lives that are in danger right now.

The speaker blared up before I could say anything else. "Please approach SCP-173 for testing."

At the same time, I heard the the doors behind us open. Huh... that's strange. Was that supposed to happen?

"Uh... There seems to be a problem with the door control system. The doors aren't responding to our... uh..." Apparently not. I heard short blaring noises. "Attempts to close it, so, uh... Please maintain direct eye contact with SCP-173, then..."

Loop: ?

Much later on, the memory of what happened there still haunted me, even if the same scenario happened many times over. It must have something to do with it being the first time. I remember berating the man on the speakers in my head for his nonchalant way of speaking, ignorant of the horror I was about to experience.

Perhaps for the best, I didn't know that it didn't get any better from there on.

It all went to hell from here. I instinctively backed off as the lights completely turned off just as the blaring sound from before returned at full pitch, before the lights turned on again.

The sight that greeted me was one that left me muted in shock. The two prisoners who were just talking, being more professional than the guards outside and calling the statue Billy... were on the floor, their necks bent at unnatural angles. The one I was just talking with was looking directly in me. I could see his lifeless eyes. Bile rose up in my throat as I shivered, feeling the sensation of a million icy spiders crawl down my spine. SCP-173 was in my peripherals the whole time.

And it was staring right at me. I looked the statue in its cold, soulless eyes, indescribable dread and shock raging inside my body, before...

The lights turned off again.

/ Loop 1

I woke up screaming. I started thrashing wildly in my panic and, as a result, I felt myself fall and impact the ground. The shock of the impact caused me to come to my senses and stop screaming. I quickly disposed of the blanket which got wrapped around my head and try to find out where I was.

I was back in my room, no signs of anything out of the ordinary.

Just what the hell is going on here..?

My breath was coming out in harsh pants.

Was.. was that all just a dream?

It couldn't have been! How could anything so vivid be just a dream?

Did I have a nightmare? Ironically, I haven't had those in quite some time, my dreams being mostly unrecognizable blurs that I forgot quickly.

I shook my head. Was I getting crazy or something...? It all felt so vivid and real... The nonchalance of the guards, the prisoners, that thing standing right in front of me...

I shuddered and laid on my bed, feeling sick to my stomach. Whatever nightmares I had before this one, they sure don't hold a candle to this one... I could've sworn it was real...

I shook my head once more before getting off the bed. Whatever it was, I'd be better off not worrying about it right-

The door suddenly slid open. A guard in a black and white military uniform with a military helmet that covered all of his features was standing there with a weapon in his hands.

Much the same way he had in my dream.

"Holy shit." I gasped, feeling lightheaded. This was too familiar for comfort...

The guard didn't seem to have noticed my reaction.

"Hey. They've got some work for ya. Do me a favor, and step out of your cell."

...Is this for real? I stood there with my eyes open wide, anxiety bubbling inside me and locking my muscles into place. That couldn't have been real...

Surely not?

The guard noticed my hesitation. "What're you, stupid or something? I said, step out of the cell. If you don't step out of the cell, I'm gonna kick your ass." He said, annoyed at my lack of reaction.

That alone - in his own words - kicked my ass into gear. I don't know what they do to disobedient test subjects, but I'm not itching to find out, traumatic experiences or not. I hurriedly stepped out of the cell, noticing the second guard once out of it.

Again, in much the same position as the one before.

"That's more like it. Now make sure to follow me. Oh, and in the case you didn't know, we're authorized to kill", he emphasized the last word, just the same way he did last time, "any disobedient test subjects, so make sure to not lag around like you did at the cell. And do anything stupid." He seemed to fumble over his own words here. "That is, don't do anything stupid. Just follow the rules and we don't have a reason to use you as a training dummy." Okay, this part was different. Maybe it was a dream after all?

I was in the middle of them much the same way as before though, my anxiety increasing with each step towards the familiar direction we were heading towards. If... that all truly happened, then now there should be some kind of announcement right around-

"Attention. Site. Director. Rosewood. Please report to: Administrations. Complex."


I took a deep breath, before exhaling it slowly. Cold dread made its way from my stomach to the rest of my body.

...It wasn't a dream? It actually happened..?

Every single aspect of it...?

I took another deep breath, trying to keep my self control. After a moment, against all odds, I exhaled the air slowly, in a controlled fashion, desperately trying to bring my mounting despair in control and think about the situation.

As it stands, it appears that I have either somehow managed to see into the future with my dreams in - very - vivid details, or enter my body from the future after dying. The mere thought of death made me shudder, but I kept my mind working. So far, the more realistic - and how messed up is my life if those were the two 'realistic' options? - option seems to be the second one, the more I think about it.

I recall my thoughts shortly after waking up. How it felt so real and vivid...

Is it a stretch to think it actually was, in my current situation?

Well, I know for one that I wasn't going to sit idle and let myself die, crazy theories or not. This is a golden opportunity for me! With my newfound power, I shall fight to the bitter end in order to preserve that which is mine! My life! My hopes and drea-

My inner monologue was shattered as the guard in front of me started speaking.

"Maan, I'm hungry. Hey, today's pizza day down at the cafeteria, right?" Do you mind!? I was having a moment here!

"Eh..uh.. Actually, I think it's tuna cassarolle." The shy guard behind me answered once again. Or is it that this is the first time that he's answered, and I'm the one hearing it twice..?

"Oh.. God damn it! Now my day's ruined. The only reason I still come here is for the pizza. I don't know what it is about that pizza, but it's delicious." Now that I think about it...

Does this guy works here only for the pizza? That is a really weird life choice.

Well - Not that I'm in any position to judge, given my current situation...

I looked over to see the same guards escorting much the same Class D on the other side.

"Tuna cassarolle, on the other hand, is a disgusting abomination, and it should be locked up in here with the rest of these freaks."

How should I approach this situation? If I don't go in the chamber, the guard on the upper floor is most definitely going to shoot me...

Wait, didn't the door malfunction shortly before the lights went off? That might be my chance!


But how did I return to my room, anyways..? I shook my head and focused on my surroundings once again.

I looked at the scientists downstairs, all engrossed in their work. I heard a beep.

"Feeling tired, and overworked? Freshly brewed coffee is served in the cafeteria at all hours."

The same message played. The guard behind me stays as the one in front turns to me in the room.

"Well, we're here. Kind of disappointed I didn't get to punch you in the face, but.. ah.. whatever. Oh, and by the way..."

I took the leaflet and made a show of skimming over it.

Then I walked in the room, looking at the poster once again. Sentient and violent... It really does paint a different picture once you've lived through it. I walked through the door and stood in front of the containment chamber.

...And cue the terror welling up in my guts. What if, no matter what happens, I end up dying here and returning to my bed, only to march into my own death, over and over again..?

I shiver, before realizing that I've been standing around too much and not moving to the other prisoners. I hurriedly catch up to them just as the containment chamber doors finish opening.

"Attention, all class D personnel. Please enter the containment chamber."

If that is my fate... then I will change it! I won't allow myself to die here.

With firm resolve, and not an insignificant amount of terror, I stepped into the chamber.


And that's the first chapter.

Just as a warning to you guys, this is my first serious attempt at writing a story and it may or may not include random quality spikes, varying chapter lengths and/or infrequent update schedules. My main goal is doing weekly updates but since I'm not an experienced writer (This little gem of a chapter was sitting for a few months, forgotten) I will need to experiment a bit on how much I should write each day in order to have a decent chapter out next Saturday. Since I'm aiming to improve, I'm gonna try and force the chapters out, even if I'm unsatisfied with them. Another thing to consider is that this will most likely not be 100% lore accurate, as I've been away from the game for a few months and don't remember as much, so please notify me if I've missed any important. That being said, I do plan to take my liberty with the story and include my own elements as I see fit, all with the purpose of making the story better and more enjoyable, of course. For now, though, I'll keep the story canon.

As for the story itself, it's gonna be a narrative of the SCP:CB experience, taking the ideas gathered from "Who is D-9341?" from TheBatesee on youtube (Ideas which are canon, a developer basically confirmed it in the comments) and turning it into a story.

In short, it's gonna be a time-traveling loop-when-you-die story following the gameplay of SCP:CB with serious and (hopefully) comedic moments, focusing on many of the aspects of the gameplay (Most of which will likely be interactions with SCPs and subsequent gruesome deaths), character development and more, eventually ending in a crescendo of angelic choirs as the main character rides away on SCP-682 with his harem army of Teddy Bear-Chans, all trying their best to capture the heart of dopey D-9341 as the facility behind them explodes, directed by Michael Bay.

I kid, I kid.

But hey, omake idea for the end of the story, hmmm?

Author notes are also going to be much smaller.

Next Chapter: 11th August, 2018