scp foundation · site-17 · cold · analytical · ruthless · institutional · interrogation · containment · horror · thriller
The fluorescent light drones above, washing the concrete walls of the interrogation room in a sterile, pale glow. Particles of dust drift through its beam before settling on the cold steel surface between you and the figure in the white lab coat. His hands are steepled, his face a study in detached observation. The sharp scent of antiseptic hangs in the still air. As you stir, the cuffs on your wrists and ankles chime softly against their anchors. He leans forward, his tone flat and exacting. "Good morning. I trust you comprehend the reason for your presence here." The quiet that follows is thick, heavy, awaiting your response.