Someone else's tale about one of my SCPs that is downvoted and may be removed.
Jerome laid on the cold steel. He was shaking, he was drenched in blood. The knowledge of what he had become was overwhelming, he trembled at the thought that a creature such as himself could exist. As he lay in the crimson puddle he reminisced on the last few days on the dreaded station. He had been taken there by The Foundation on the premise that he would part of an experiment on a recently acquired subject.
-”Oh goody”- He remarked sarcastically.
-”Now..”- He interrupted his words with a quick glance at the clipboard -
-”Mister Ramirez, don’t be so negative as you must know already everything we do here is only f—”
-”For the good of mankind, I know, yadda yadda yadda”- He interrupted.
-”Well” -replied the doctor, noticeably annoyed at his behaviour- “If you are so impatient to begin the procedure then i suggest you go into the next room and put this on”-
He handed Jerome an operation gown.
Jerome wondered at that moment how he had gotten himself into this mess, he knew that he was sentenced to life at the local penitentiary, what he didn’t understand was why government operatives had come to him offering him freedom on the condition that he participate in an experiment for a classified branch of the “ole guv” as his, now deceased, father used to put it.
As he changed he spotted the doctor talking to one of his colleagues. “Fucking negro” he heard him say. On any other day, this would have caused a violent outburst on his part, but he understood that he needed to comply with these people if he was ever going to resume being a free man.
He thought that after the first experiment dealing with a deadly creature he was done, but a lot more suffering was ahead of him. He had already been, as they put it, “a fundamental part of The Foundation” for three years, and it seemed this was the end of the road. They had informed him that they had finished working with him and after this experiment he would truly be free. He didn’t care, he had already lost hope.
-”Okay Jerome, now that you’re suited up, follow me” - A different, albeit friendlier doctor told him.
As they moved through the blank corridors Jerome was sure this couldn’t be any different, he had already seen everything there was to see. He felt nothing could surprise him.
He seemed surprised when he finally laid eyes on the new object. They were robotic arms, aimed downwards at an operating table, the complex circuitry and mechanical structures were visible.
-”Hop on” -Said the doctor accompanying him.
Strangely enough, he felt no reluctance to “hop on”
-”Might as well get it over with” - He muttered to himself
That was the worst mistake he ever made, had he known what was going to happen to him, he would have tried to escape, he would have attacked the bystanders, he would have at least got himself killed. The pain was excruciating, the machine opened him, sans anesthesia, and began by pulling out his heart and lungs, after which he blacked out.
Only to be revived moments later, after having been inserted a new organ, one that was more powerful. Procedures of this kind continued, he was flayed and mutilated. His bones realigned and restructured to turn him into a quadrupedal freak. Barbs lined his skin, he no longer had fingers, instead claws.
The pain had robbed him of his ability to do anything except scream.
He was no longer a man. He was a monster.