SCP-914: The Clockworks

SCP-914:
The Clockworks

 

ROUGHLY ONE MONTH had passed since I first began my life in the mysterious SCP Foundation research facility. As I slowly fell into something of a daily rhythm, I became acutely aware of how my life here was starting to feel “normal.” It went to show that humans were a highly adaptive species. You can adjust to any environment, and the “abnormal” eventually becomes “normal.”

My daily routine included waking up in the morning and eating breakfast with Iris. On the days Dr. Bright led experiments, we devoted ourselves to their testing. But if there wasn’t anything scheduled for the day, I wandered around the facility aimlessly. Once evening rolled around, I ate dinner with Iris. Then we’d return to her room and chat or play board games (the only way to kill time in her room) until it was time to take our showers and call it a night.

Days like that cycled endlessly, one after the next. Of course, there were minor variances in the events that popped up on different days, but they were as insignificant as the items lined up on the facility’s canteen menu. Nothing drastic worth mentioning ever happened, as the days mostly marched steadily along without any ups or downs.

Coming to expect this as the norm, I fully settled in, letting my guard down and relaxing. I felt completely at home, passing through the days without the least bit of fear or uncertainty. It was just another one of those “typical” days when I met those quirky researchers.

 

***

 

One early morning, Iris and I were walking along the corridors in the research facility after eating breakfast. A researcher in her own right, Iris generally headed out for her own workspace. Supposedly it was a lab somewhere on the site, but I didn’t know exactly where since she never took me. On those days she wasn’t scheduled to participate in experiments with me, but she was staying with me today.

Therefore, going from past experience, this was going to be a day of testing with Dr. Bright. Since the research site viewed me as Iris’s accessory, SCP-105-C, her presence was mandated for any and all experiments using me. The frequency of the tests was irregular, varying anywhere from multiple in a single day to none for several days in a row, making it impossible to know what to expect. Supposedly Dr. Bright decided whether to conduct tests based on their mood that day or whether they were hit by a stroke of genius.

In the event Dr. Bright needed us for testing purposes, Iris would receive notification to that effect early in the morning. It always left her extremely restless and agitated, so I could tell what was happening without needing her to spell it out for me.

After cohabiting (was there a better word for it?) for roughly a month, I could pick up on little signs like that. Iris seemed accustomed to leading me through the corridors now, no longer providing the meticulous explanations she did when we first met.

“Hmmm. Through the course of repeated testing, we’ve started to form a general understanding of your abilities, ███,” Iris said, tilting her head to look up at me. She seemed a bit sluggish in the mornings.

“We’ve learned that your powers allow you to travel back and forth between this reality and the one inside the pictures,” she said. Always one for exaggerated gestures and movement, she swished her hands back and forth, as if she were swimming. “Actually, scratch that. You can enter the photos, but you can’t leave them of your own accord… In the event you wish to leave the photo, I must lend a helping hand. Literally,” she said, as she opened and closed her hand several times.

“We still don’t understand how I am able to do that. Perhaps it is due to my ability to manipulate the contents of the pictures I take… I am able to touch you and anything around you displayed in the picture.”

We verified as much through the course of a multitude of tests. While I was in a photo, it looked like it was playing a real-time video to Iris (Since the picture looked like a normal, still image to Dr. Bright and everyone else, it was just as she said, and viewed as an extension of her powers.). And when she touched the photo, she could manipulate the contents displayed in the video/photo. That’s how her name was suddenly engraved next to me in the creepy theme park, the Carnival of Horrors. At the time, Iris used the tip of one fingernail to scrawl her name into the ground (or more precisely, she scratched the photo where it showed the ground).

Furthermore, Iris was capable of grabbing the photo-image of me and plucking me out of the picture. So far, we had yet to find alternative methods of expelling me from the photos. I hated to think of it, but if Iris were to die while I was in the photo-world, it was highly likely that I would be trapped in there forever. As a result, she was always present for the tests. She was my one and only lifeline.

“The fascinating—no, beneficial—aspect of this phenomenon…is that your ability to enter photos allows you to observe the events captured in the pictures as they happened,” she observed.

Exactly. By entering the photos, I could observe a score of things experienced with my five senses; seeing with my own eyes, hearing with my own ears, and smelling with my own nose. So long as there was a picture, I could conduct a wide array of investigations such as speaking with someone currently dead who was either in or near where the photo was taken.

This ability was highly valued here at the research facility dedicated to the analysis of SCP objects. If there was an SCP object where nearly all of the data was either redacted or practically non-existent to begin with, it only took one photo for me to be able to slip into the photo-world and investigate what happened.

I entered photos regarding various SCP objects each time we conducted tests, and the wealth of information I brought back always verified or overthrew numerous theories. And in doing so, the research concerning those SCP objects steadily progressed.

A picture truly was worth a thousand words. Rather than pull their hair out debating over a hundred possibilities based on insufficient data, it was generally easier to have me go into the photo and see what happened. I wasn’t entirely sure what the information I brought back was used for. Seeing as a great deal of it was technical stuff, I probably wouldn’t understand even if someone explained it to me, but apparently the SCP Foundation held my ability in extremely high regard.

There was currently no end to the influx of requests from researchers near and far claiming they wanted to borrow me to investigate the SCP object they were studying. However, Dr. Bright was keeping me all to himself (herself?) at the moment. Apparently the hassle of dealing with that mad scientist outweighed the benefit of using me, for everyone kept their distance, refraining from placing any adamant requests.

Considering the fact I could have been deemed worthless and suffered a horrible fate such as getting neutralized or dissected, the results of being considered useful were overall favorable. It was the reason why I was able to go leisurely about my days without any sense of danger…for now.

“Yes, you are a very valuable and convenient entity. Consequentially, it is unlikely for you to be simply put to waste,” Iris said, looking at me as if I were a loyal dog. I nodded my head while listening to her.

“Notice how you haven’t been sent into photos concerning terribly dangerous SCP objects lately? In the unlikely event you died while in the photo-world, there is a possibility you wouldn’t come back… This is evidence that no one wants to lose an entity as rare as you,” Iris said. Listening to her through the translation collar, her style of speech was just as unusual and perplexing as ever, but I got the message. She was happy and relieved that the likelihood of me getting misused had decreased, which I found sort of sweet. She cared about what happened to me.

 

***

 

In all reality, not only was my first experiment with the Carnival of Horrors pretty extreme, I had some close run-ins with some mighty dangerous SCP objects in the initial testing phase. I felt certain I was going to die on more than one occasion. And I sustained minor injuries, was infected with diseases, and even placed under some sort of curse.

For example, the experiment regarding the SCP object SCP-517, Grammie Knows, still made me toss and turn at night with nightmares. Simply thinking of the sequence “SCP-076” or the name “Able” made my flesh crawl. In the end, I couldn’t even get close…SCP-076 was a truly superior being, akin to an almighty god or demon. There was also—actually, there were enough examples to fill several books, so I decided to stop walking down memory lane for the time being and focus on the present.

Those initial experiments were brutal and perilous. But they hadn’t been like that lately, due to the Foundation acknowledging my intrinsic value. That was one thing for which I was genuinely grateful.

Thank goodness I had powers that were beneficial to others! I vaguely knew of some SCP objects who were subjected to extremely inhumane living conditions, under the pretext of “observation” or “isolation.” Compared to them, I was being treated exceptionally well.

“True, you don’t seem to bring the injuries or diseases you pick up in the photo back with you to the real world. But that doesn’t mean we know for sure that you’ll resurrect if I pull your corpse out of the photo, and I don’t want to test it to find out. It would be an irreversible mistake if it didn’t work, and generally, people don’t come back to life.”

As Iris said, I couldn’t bring anything back from the photo-world. It didn’t matter if it was treasure I found in the photo, an SCP object, a plain ol’ diary, or a stationary set. I couldn’t even bring back the air or dirt! Dr. Bright was of the opinion that if I could, it would have been possible to mass produce these rare and invaluable SCP objects. I personally couldn’t understand why they would want to mass produce these freaky anomalies that were so extremely difficult to keep under control.

Sure, there were some insanely useful ones, like SCP-500, also known as Panacea—as implied by the name, a bunch of pills that could cure any disease—but they were still incomprehensible SCP objects. I didn’t really approve of increasing their numbers.

Unable to bring back my injuries, pain, or even my fatigue, I reverted to the state I was in when initially entering the photo (or so we’d surmised based on how not only my injuries, but also the wear and tear on my clothes vanished) the instant Iris pulled me out.

However, this was only a physical reset to my initial state. The one thing I could bring back were my experiences in the photo-world—my memories of what transpired. I didn’t understand exactly how that worked (Dr. Bright was in the middle of figuring that one out), but I understood and accepted that this was the general premise behind my powers. I could enter photos, and only bring back my memories.

“How very poetic,” Iris appraised my offhand comment. She whistled for some reason before laughing happily.

“Furthermore, those memories are unique to you and you alone, ███. No matter what you do in the photo-world, it has no effect on the real world,” she added.

Precisely. We proved as much through the course of countless experiments. Let’s say, hypothetically speaking, I killed someone in the photo-world. Now if that person was alive in the real world, this didn’t mean he would retroactively die or plop over dead. I’d spoken with people in the facility countless times in the photo-world, but none of them here in the real world had any recollection of ever speaking with me. As Iris said, the events in the photo-world were for me alone to remember. They were like dreams cut off from reality.

“In other words, you are not traveling against the flow of time. You are essentially experiencing simulations of past events,” Iris pointed out.

Right. Just because photos displayed contents from the past didn’t mean I was traveling through time when I entered one. No matter what I did in there, it would have no effect on the present—on reality. In other words, I couldn’t prevent a tragedy that already occurred from taking place. My powers didn’t extend that far. Of course, simply going to the past and observing events was extremely useful and beneficial for SCP object research.

“Shame you can’t,” Iris whispered to herself.

The crimson photo, pinned up in her room even now, flashed across my mind. Even if I could go back into the photo and heal the man dying in that blood-covered room with something like Panacea… Even if I could save his life in the photo-world, it wouldn’t change reality out here. I never was told that man’s name, but I knew he meant a great deal to Iris, and I couldn’t save him. The dead remained deceased; history—the past—refused to change.

“Yeah, Dr. Bright theorizes that you’re jumping to temporal parallel worlds and experiencing the events there. Upon leaving the photo, the parallel world vanishes… In which case, it truly would be like waking from a dream.”

As if feeling that she’d come across unintentionally rude, Iris hastily continued, trying to gloss over her words. “Precisely because it’s like a dream, we’re unable to verify the validity of what you claim to perceive in the photos. That’s the troublesome aspect of your ability. You could feed us a bag of lies and we would have no way of knowing one way or the other.”

She was right, although I was honestly reporting the events as I saw them. I didn’t know if the researchers took what I said to be true, and even if they did, it was all from my perspective. There were bound to be misunderstandings and unintentional lies mixed in. But I figured the researchers were pros at this sort of stuff. They could check for errors or falsehoods.

And so far, it was believed—determined—that the information I brought back was most likely accurate. As such, I—or rather, my powers—were put to effective use in the research facility. So long as I continued to prove a valuable asset, my peaceful life was secured.

“Indeed. I’m also glad you’re guaranteed a peaceful life and things have finally settled down for you, but are you really okay with this? Don’t you wish to return to your old life?” Iris asked, somewhat nervously.

I wasn’t able to answer her. When I first wound up in this research facility, I was so freaked out and scared that I was dying to return to my old life—to the world I knew.

But honestly, that desire was growing faint as of late. It wasn’t as if I had any pressing reason to return to my old world right away. If I went back, I’d probably just resume my monotonous bouncing back and forth between home and school…

When I thought about how my parents and that strange upperclassman were probably worried sick about me, I wanted to drop home and let them know I was okay. But the desire to stay with Iris—my new second family—outweighed that. And I honestly wasn’t ready for these excitement-filled days interacting with various SCP objects to come to an end. I guess I already viewed life here at this research site as “normal.” It didn’t matter if everything was an illusion like the events experienced in those photos. I truly believed that I wanted to stay at least a little while longer.

 

***

 

“Now then,” Iris said, after a short pause in the conversation. Walking ahead to lead the way, Iris suddenly looked back over her shoulder at me. “Today’s tests will be held in the research cell down this hall.”

There was a large, intimidating door in the direction she indicated with her chin. The metallic, gray door gave no indication as to what could be on the other side… On the wall next to it was a keycard reader and the simple text “SCP-914.”

I cocked my head to one side, puzzled. No wonder our walk through these corridors dragged on longer than usual today. Apparently our destination wasn’t Dr. Bright’s lab, where we always conducted our experiments. Seeing as “SCP” was written next to those numbers, it was safe to say this research cell contained an SCP object. Were we going to use some sort of new, special method for this experiment?

“Actually, we’re here to prepare for the experiment,” Iris said lightly. “Dr. Bright supposedly has plans to move the research to the next phase, but in order to do so, he needs some things.”

What was that all about? It could only spell trouble… Every once in a while, Dr. Bright would pop out with something that made me question their sanity, so I couldn’t bring myself to fully trust the researcher. What type of experiment was that weirdo scheming to use me in?

“Beats me. But he said this experiment would prove extremely valuable to you. This just had to be one of the times he was excessively cryptic regarding the details… I’m not entirely certain, but I believe it is regarding the world you originally came from.”

Hmmm… The world I originally came from? What was that supposed to mean? That wording sounded as if it meant I originally came from a world other than this one. I was suddenly filled with uncertainty. This was a covert research facility in the United States of America…supposedly. In which case, it was still on the same planet as the modern Japan I knew, even if it was hidden from the eyes of the public. Or was I wrong on that account? Was I truly in a strange and incomprehensible world other than my own? “Hmph! He’ll only play you for a fool if you read too deeply into what he says,” Iris grumbled in disgust.

“At any rate, the experiment requires quite a bit of preparation. Dr. Bright has work that demands his attention elsewhere today, so he won’t be joining us. He said to get as much ready as we can while he’s gone. Taking orders from that freak bothers me more than it should.”

Hm, so Dr. Bright was busy elsewhere. I guess that was bound to happen. They were such a complete and total weirdo that it tended to slip my mind, but Dr. Bright was one of the most famous members of the SCP Foundation. I’ve heard they was quite the big shot! It wasn’t surprising they didn’t have time to focus solely on us.

“If you look at it another way, for Dr. Bright to take such interest in us and predominantly focus his research on us…it proves that we—or rather, you—are a highly valuable entity. I really do wonder… What are you?” Iris asked, as she heaved a heavy sigh.

In truth, no matter how much we gleaned about my abilities through countless tests, we still didn’t have the answers to any of the fundamental questions. Why did I appear in this research facility? What was I? How did these powers work? Although the Foundation tended to lump us together as associated entities, what exactly was my relationship with Iris? The more I thought about it, the more confused I felt.

“Those are questions anyone who associates with SCP objects has. Speaking from my experience in the field, I think you’re better off not thinking about it at a certain point. Dwelling on it too much is bad for your mental health. It is exceedingly common for researchers driven mad by obsessing over such thoughts to get walked off the site,” she said, warning of horrifying possibilities. She proceeded down the corridor until coming to the gray door that was in our view for some time now.

This was where we were going to spend the day conducting tests—or to be more precise, where we would be doing the prep work for an experiment. Lifting up the cardkey dangling from her neck to verify ID, Iris opened the door.

“This is where SCP-914, The Clockworks, is contained,” she said.

Clockworks? Unlike most of the labels that tended to describe SCP objects exactly as they were, this name didn’t instantly evoke a mental image. What did “clockworks” mean in Japanese again? Was it some type of clock…?

“You’ll understand when you see it,” Iris said. She gave a charming wink before entering the room ahead of me.

I tried to hastily follow after her, but…

“Stop!” she suddenly shouted in a piercing voice and threw all of her weight into shoving me back. Although this looked serious, there was too much momentum behind my step to suddenly pull to a stop; I crashed into Iris. Seeing as she was smaller than me, I wound up pushing her down and falling on top of her. As she whimpered in pain, I opened my mouth to apologize—and was struck speechless. The room that contained The Clockworks was thrown into utter disarray.

 

***

 

The space was in chaos. The first thing that drew my attention was a massive, mysterious machine that dominated roughly half the rather spacious room (The floorspace was probably ten times that of the room Iris and I shared.). The construction was so bizarre, I couldn’t begin to imagine what this machine was even used for.

Iris explained to me later that this giant contraption was none other than SCP-914, also known as The Clockworks.

SCP-914 was a large clockwork device—that was the origin of the name, and it had nothing to do with actual timekeeping. It weighed in at several tons and covered an area of 18 square meters, made from a mountain of interconnected belts, pulleys, gears, springs, and other clockwork parts. It was incredibly complex (or maybe just haphazardly thrown together), consisting of over eight million moving parts, most of which were arranged and configured in a way incomprehensible to the human mind. To my eyes, it looked more like an extremely difficult puzzle than a functional machine.

The majority of this grotesque contraption was made of copper and tin, with wood and cloth bits mixed in. The construction materials themselves were unspectacular, but the structure looked like a deranged artist poured his soul into creating an engineering masterpiece. Simply looking at it made my eyes whirl.

The main body of the machine was connected via tubes to two clean, encapsulated booths. Between the two booths was a control box referred to as the “Selection Panel.”

Iris covered her mouth with both hands, groaning. Behind her, I stood in disbelief, feeling like I suddenly stepped into a near-future sci-fi film.

Seeing as the room didn’t stink, I wondered what got into Iris. Worried, I followed her line of sight only to be struck speechless. The giant contraption—The Clockworks—was surrounded by piles of junk strewn before it without any rhyme or reason. There were mountains of coins and screws, a toy model gun, and an oddly outdated smartphone. The majority of things were metallic, but there was also a handful of random golden stuffed animals.

It looked as if the warehouse to a factory that specialized in processing metal was hit by a massive earthquake, one that sent all of their wares tumbling to the ground. There was also liquid spilled on the messy floor. It was red. Blood! That was fresh blood, yet to dry.

Hidden behind the mountain of metal, I could only see a pair of feet. But whoever collapsed back there was the source of all that pooling blood. They didn’t even budge. I sure hoped it wasn’t a corpse!

I figured Iris had seen the body and was either so startled or filled with such involuntary disgust that it rendered her speechless. She was such a sweet girl; I bet she couldn’t handle blood or violence. That was what I thought, but my speculation was a bit off the mark.

“Dr. Selkie!” Iris cried the unfamiliar name as she darted toward the pair of feet laying out on the floor.

Did Iris know the person laying over there? It was impressive she recognized them by their feet alone. Barely keeping up with this sudden turn of events, I pushed aside irrelevant details like that and instinctively raced after Iris.

Big as the room was, the mysterious feet were fairly close. We reached them pretty quickly. Peeking over Iris’s shoulders, I looked over the person sprawled out on the floor.

The person laying in a pool of blood was a woman. It was hard to put an exact age to her, but I’d say she was still young. I couldn’t tell a foreigner’s age at a glance, so my best guess, no better than a rough estimate, was that she was probably older than Iris. In other words, this petite Caucasian woman was somewhere between her upper teens to early twenties.

There was a sense of maturity about her. Part of that could probably be attributed to the white lab coat, a uniform especially common among those who’ve earned the right to be called “doctor,” but her facial features looked young. Childish, colorful clothes peeked out from under her lab coat. The material bore a print of small fluffy animals such as cute kittens. She wore thick, winter socks and super warm, fluffy slippers over them. And then there was the blood dripping from her mouth.

“Dr. Selkie! Are you awake? What in the world happened…?!” Iris grabbed the researcher (apparently named Dr. Selkie) by the shoulders and shook her, desperately calling out the young woman’s name.

Even my untrained eyes could tell Dr. Selkie was in bad shape. Blood was streaming from her mouth. There weren’t any glaring external injuries, but even now, there was an impressive amount of blood oozing out across the floor. I had no idea what happened, but simply leaving her here didn’t look like a bright idea. If we left her as she was, it wouldn’t take long before the researcher died of blood loss.

Iris slapped her cheeks to try and get ahold of herself. “███! It could be dangerous in here, so please leave the room for now! This is beyond my knowhow, so I’m going to call the medical staff!”

She was right; this woman needed the medical staff, a crack team which essentially served as the research facility’s in-house doctors. Seeing as neither Iris nor I had any medical knowledge, our being here wouldn’t do her any good. I nodded my head in agreement and was just about to hurtle helter-skelter out of the room when…

“Not so fast,” came a feeble voice.

Turning to look in surprise, I saw Iris was holding Dr. Selkie up by the shoulders. The researcher’s eyes were just narrowly open. She croaked out an intimidating whisper. “Don’t call for anyone… I’m begging—no, ordering you, by my authority as a researcher. Shut that door immediately, sever outside communication, and forget about me… Ack! Hack!” Dr. Selkie coughed blood, staggering as she got up.

Iris blanched. “You shouldn’t be moving!”

The young researcher would hear none of it. “Shut up! If you won’t follow my orders, I’ll do it myself,” she declared, her high-pitched voice still holding a youthful timbre. She pulled something that resembled a remote control out of the breast pocket of her lab coat. The moment she pressed one of the buttons on it, the door we came through slammed shut as if by magic. The room must have been made soundproof, for silence suddenly filled the air.

“Hmph. I’ve suffered minor internal damage, but this is hardly fatal,” Dr. Selkie said as she examined herself, coughing multiple times as she rubbed her hands across her abdomen. “I guess I got off lucky. Though it actually might have been better if I died. What should I do…?” she groaned, tears brimming in her eyes as she grew visibly more depressed by the moment.

She finally turned to us as we looked upon her aghast and offered a faint smile. “…Do you two need an explanation?” she asked in a tired voice, to which we nodded several times.

 

***

 

“I don’t believe I’ve met that boy before. I suppose introductions are in order first,” Dr. Selkie said as she glared suspiciously at me. Not that it was a big deal or anything, but it felt strange hearing the rather youthful Dr. Selkie refer to me as “boy.” Perhaps she was older than she looked. She waved her finger at me, shaking her head. She wasn’t as bad off as I feared.

For the record, we’d already carried Dr. Selkie to a wall and helped her lean against it, as per her orders. Iris and I hunkered down beside Dr. Selkie as we listened. It didn’t feel right to loom over her.

“Introductions can wait. Please tell us what happened,” Iris said. She fretfully dabbed away the splatter of blood around Dr. Selkie’s mouth with her handkerchief. In reality, Dr. Selkie was losing a great deal of blood. Her lab coat and cute outfit were so heavily dyed in gut-wrenching red that I could barely stand to look.

“What in the world happened, Dr. Selkie?”

“Of course… I’m sorry, you’re right. I should prioritize that first. Sorry, but my head is a little foggy from all this blood loss…or…no, perhaps I was always this way… Selfish, childish, and emotional,” Dr. Selkie rambled incoherently. Her consciousness was probably hazy at best. After all, it was obvious as the nose on my face that she was severely wounded. Her life was in danger if she didn’t receive medical treatment from a doctor and get some rest in peace and quiet. Yet Dr. Selkie adamantly refused to let us call for one.

“That was why, from the very beginning to the very end, I didn’t get along with that man. He was constantly fair, ever mature, and always intellectual—Dr. Goldman.” Dr. Selkie murmured, looking not quite right—as if she were possessed—as she glared at The Clockworks.

Dr. Goldman? I wondered who that was. I didn’t recognize the name.

“Dr. Selkie and Dr. Goldman are highly renowned researchers in this facility. They both possess quite high clearances and primarily conduct research on SCP objects classified Euclid or Keter,” Iris explained smoothly, on behalf of the barely conscious researcher. After seeing Dr. Selkie cough up blood so many times, Iris probably didn’t want her to talk more than necessary.

“Although they appear to have polar opposite personalities, they get along extremely well. They’ve produced great results by teaming together on their research projects,” Iris said, making a self-depreciating sneer flash across Dr. Selkie’s face. However, she kept her silence, taking deep breaths instead.

It was obvious she was in pain. Iris looked at her apprehensively as she continued, “Always calm and collected, but not without his own unique sense of humor, Dr. Goldman takes a serious approach to research. Although she is sometimes compared to a runaway train, Dr. Selkie’s wild ideas and reckless actions lead to astonishing experiments… Everyone talks about how they’re this facility’s greatest duo.”

“Really? That’s our reputation?” Dr. Selkie asked with a weak smile. “I could have sworn word had it we fought like cats and dogs.”

“Well, there are eye-witness accounts that you two start fighting the moment you set eyes on each other. But I’ve always been jealous of your relationship. It’s like you don’t have to stand on ceremony—like you’re close friends or family. It’s wonderful to have someone like that here in this research facility. Perhaps you’ve noticed that the warmth of others is in short supply,” Iris said without an ounce of sarcasm, probably expressing how she truly felt. She wasn’t a terribly tactful girl. But her straightforward opinion hurt Dr. Selkie more than anything, making her twist her lips in silence.

Looking at her in concern, Iris summarized, “At any rate, these two researchers were scheduled to fill in for Dr. Bright, since he has business elsewhere, to oversee today’s experiment—or rather, the tests to prepare for it. As such, there is nothing surprising about Dr. Selkie being here.”

As if patting a child on the head to comfort her after falling down, Iris wiped off the blood splattered across Dr. Selkie’s body with her handkerchief as she asked, “But what happened before we arrived? I don’t understand that, but I’d like to know. It is surely the most important thing at hand. Could you tell us, Doctor?”

“Yes, I suppose I must.” For a moment, Dr. Selkie caught her breath, as if overwhelmed by Iris’s momentum, but then she dropped her head in resignation. Although she still seemed to be in pain, she sounded surprisingly lucid. Probably the brief rest had helped psychologically stabilize her. “In that case, will you hear me out? This was going to be the happiest day ever for me and that horribly wonderful Dr. Goldman. At least, that was what I was hoping.”

 

***

 

Dr. Selkie told us what had happened as if making a confession. Even the way she spoke was childish, her thoughts bouncing every which way without rhyme or reason, making her rather hard to understand. Every now and then, Iris would provide clear and concise summaries, allowing me to just barely grasp what Dr. Selkie was trying to convey.

It was a strange story. It all began first thing this morning. For some time now, Dr. Selkie had been planning a certain magnificent and personal experiment (that was her bizarre way of describing it), so she was up earlier than usual to work on the preparations here, in this research cell dominated by the giant SCP-914.

“I practiced several dry runs of the experiment, and got so caught up in them that I completely forgot to eat breakfast. That was when my tummy began to get the rumblies. ‘Goodness me, this isn’t very elegant,’ I said to myself, and started debating about heading over to the canteen,” Dr. Selkie said. She was more of a talker than I first suspected; once she got going, there was no stopping her. Although her internal organs were damaged, that didn’t seem to slow her down.

“But it’d be pretty stupid if I did that, you know? I’d have to make drastic changes in my plans if I went to go get food at that point. The schedule I spent all night devising for this experiment was so perfect and precise, there wasn’t room for a single second delay.”

“By experiment…do you mean the one we’re supposed to participate in, or the preparations for it?” Iris asked.

“No, I told you this is unrelated… It’s my…personal experiment,” Dr. Selkie grumbled, embarrassed for some reason. “At any rate, while I was wondering what to do, that nasty Dr. Goldman suddenly popped up with a sandwich in hand. Acting as confident as ever, he said to me, ‘My darling Selkie, aren’t you hungry?’”

Having never met Dr. Goldman before, I couldn’t really picture the man, but I got the impression he was quite the gentleman.

“He could really ruffle my feathers with that smug face of his. Acted like he knew everything about me… But he never noticed what really mattered. It wasn’t like he knew and played dumb. I think he really was too oblivious to catch on,” Dr. Selkie said, puffing up her cheeks in an immature display of annoyance before looking into the distance.

“He was aware that I have a tendency to get so absorbed in my experiments that I forget all about eating. Knowing we were supposed to use the highly valuable Clockworks in our tests with you today, he likely made a highly accurate prediction that I would be famished after dwelling over what experiments we should conduct.”

“Isn’t eating and drinking generally prohibited in research cells?”

“Yes, so please keep this between us. Every now and then, Dr. Goldman and I would sneak off to the corner for a quick bite to eat. See, we attended college together. So this was a little ritual carried over from those days. Those brief moments meant the world to us,” Dr. Selkie continued, looking somewhat heavy-hearted.

“Anyway, every single word out of Dr. Goldman’s mouth grated on me like you wouldn’t believe. To be fair, I guess there was nothing unusual about that… I was super annoyed at myself for being stupid and forgetting to eat and at him for patronizing me when he foresaw I’d do just that,” Dr. Selkie said. Her mood was growing increasingly sour, as if the memory still irked her.

“I’m not the only one at fault here. I’ll admit that I can be emotionally unstable, a little childish, and extremely temperamental, but Dr. Goldman would go out of his way to poke fun and tease me… It was like he poured oil on my fiery temper every time he opened his mouth. I’d get so mad, I’d blow up like a bomb,” she explained, almost desperately. But eventually a look of sadness washed over her and she dropped her gaze.

“Dr. Goldman knew well and good how I’d react, but just had to go and play a prank on me anyway. After a lengthy fight, the hunger became too great, and I accepted the sandwich he offered me.” Dr. Selkie smacked her lips, as if reliving the memories as she told us…

“The second I bit into it, I thought he tricked me again! My teeth hit something hard. A strange sound and pain rang through my head. Instinctively recognizing the object wasn’t edible, I quickly spat out the sandwich,” Dr. Selkie said, thrusting the hand held to her mouth out and flapping it in front of her.

The researcher’s face grew serious as she continued, “That was when I noticed Dr. Goldman laughing so hard at me coughing up the sandwich that he was doubled over. I was red as a bull as I rounded on the idiot, demanding, ‘You put something in the sandwich, didn’t you? What was it? What were you thinking?’”

That was certainly uh, well, a childish prank. He had slipped something inside the sandwich he pretended to give out of kindness. Iris isn’t too different. During my life with her, she’s pranked me on more than one occasion. For instance, when we got into an argument over how to handle the laundry, she slipped some super spicy mustard into my food as a form of silent protest or punishment. When I ate the dish, I bounced around shouting about how my tongue was on fire. Feeling better after seeing that, Iris apologized for the prank and was willing to commence peace negotiations. It seemed like the sort of lighthearted prank you could only pull on someone you felt truly comfortable with.

“True, we played pranks like this on each other all the time. But today wasn’t the day for it…” Dr. Selkie murmured. She crossed her arms and turned her head away in a pout.

“I was already hangry as it was, plus there was something super important I wanted to tell him… It felt like he was trampling all over my resolve and making light of my feelings. As you can imagine, I royally exploded at the man,” she confessed with tears starting to form in her eyes.

“Of course, I realize I’m being extremely unfair. Dr. Goldman had no way of knowing what was going through my head. I’m sure he thought it was just another little prank like always… But it was the straw that broke the camel’s back,” Dr. Selkie whimpered, fighting back tears as she clutched the hem of her blood-soaked lab coat.

“When I realized the thing that I coughed up—the thing he stuck into the sandwich—was his beloved golden ring…I grew little devil horns. I snatched it up and threw it into The Clockworks’ booth without a giving it a second thought. Then I wound the key to activate it.”

“What were you thinking, Dr. Selkie?!” Iris exclaimed, making a full-body gesture to express her disbelief.

I still didn’t know what exactly The Clockworks did, so I was having a hard time following the conversation. I was just getting the general picture that Dr. Selkie did something outrageous.

“Believe me, I know. I’m well aware of how foolish I am… But I wanted to teach Dr. Goldman a lesson. I wanted him to know what would happen if he didn’t treat me right. No, I probably just wanted to get back at him,” Dr. Selkie groaned crestfallen like a little girl who just got scolded by her parents. “But my rash actions led to the worst possible outcome. I suspect Dr. Goldman was hoping to retrieve his gold ring before The Clockworks initiated its process and jumped into the booth after it.”

“That course of action was highly problematic and careless in its own right,” Iris said with a sigh, looking utterly flabbergasted. “I’m starting to see the gravity of the situation.”

“Yes, well, unfortunately, the process initiated the moment he jumped in, refining everything in the booth. I raced to look inside, but Dr. Goldman was no longer there,” Dr. Selkie said and buried her face in her hands. She began sniffling as she cried, “He vanished! No, he was ‘refined’ to the point I can’t even recognize him anymore. Ah, this truly is a disaster.”

 

***

 

SCP-914 was also known as The Clockworks. Ignorant of the nature of this SCP object, Iris offered me a brief explanation. According to her, The Clockworks was a device capable of altering or “refining” the state of an object.

I was struggling to imagine what exactly she meant by that, so we received permission from Dr. Selkie to conduct a simple test. That might seem awfully carefree with this Dr. Goldman guy missing (?) at the moment, but Dr. Selkie flew into a fit of tears after explaining what transpired. We needed to give her time to calm down anyway.

“Watch this, ███,” Iris said as she pulled out a ballpoint pen from somewhere and approached The Clockworks with it in hand.

“From our perspective, the booth to the right is the ‘Intake’ booth and the one to the left is the ‘Output’ booth. As you can see, both are connected to the main body of The Clockworks,” Iris explained.

Intake? Output? I wondered what that meant, quietly listening to Iris’s explanation. She gave me a satisfied smirk before continuing. “When using The Clockworks, first an object of some kind is put into the Intake booth. I’m going to use this pen for our test.”

Iris casually approached the Intake booth, opened the door located in front, and somewhat cautiously tossed the pen inside. Then she simply shut the door. Once it was closed, a small bell suddenly went off.

The booth walls appeared to be made of thick metal, so we couldn’t peer in from the outside to see what was going on.

“Okay, so as you can see, I’ve placed the ballpoint pen inside. I’ve already had you inspect the pen to see for yourself, but that was your typical, cheap disposable pen that you could get anywhere,” she said.

This was starting to feel like a magic trick. As if reading my mind, or perhaps out of sheer coincidence, Iris channeled the style of a stage magician. “I’ve got nothing up my sleeve! ♪”

With a few steps, the two of us moved in front of the Output booth.

“Now we’ll have to wait a bit. The process generally takes between five to ten minutes, during which time you must never, ever open the doors,” she warned.

Eagerly waiting for it to finish, Iris turned back to face me and added, “The Clockworks uses this time to refine the object placed in the Intake booth. How it works is a mystery still being researched, but SCP-914’s operators can arbitrarily manipulate what degree the object is refined.”

Uh… What was that supposed to mean…? Refined? I hated how slow I was on the uptake, but Iris didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she looked at me as if I were the cutest little thing. I knew she was older than me, but I couldn’t help but get the feeling she was going overboard treating me like a kid… Despite feeling mildly offended, I was a good boy and listened to her explanation.

“There is a control panel here referred to as the ‘Selection Panel,’” Iris said as she anxiously took another few steps, bringing her to the middle of the two booths in front of the main body. There was a panel there that definitely fit the bill.

A large knob was attached to it, holding a metallic sheen, as if made from copper. Turning the knob moved a small, adjoining arrow on top. Since it was currently in operation, Iris only pointed at the Selection Panel with her finger rather than outright touching it. “Can you see this? It says, ‘Rough,’ ‘Coarse,’ ‘1:1,’ ‘Fine,’ and ‘Very Fine.’ Do you know what they mean?”

Well, after countless rounds of studying English (as a cover for goofing off) with The Coffee Machine, my English word bank was a bit richer… But the translation collar wrapped around my neck couldn’t help me figure out written words, and there was one I didn’t instantly recognize. What did “Coarse” mean?

“Well, you should be able to get the overall gist if you think of ‘Rough’ as the worst setting and ‘Very Fine’ as the best… That’s all it means. By turning this knob to point the arrow at the various settings, you can increase or decrease the output quality,” Iris explained.

Huh. Yeah, that made enough sense. So SCP-914 here was a device that modified stuff, and this Selection Panel controlled the output refinement quality… With only five options, we were given a really broad range from “very bad” to “very good” to choose from.

The arrow was currently pointing at “Fine” (Come to think of it, I thought Iris had fiddled some with The Clockworks before activating it), so we should get something fairly decent. As such thoughts were running through my head, the bell sounded again, and Iris headed back toward the Output booth.

Bursting with excitement, she opened the booth door and pulled something out. A cylindrical, shining silver object came out of the Output booth.

“Hmmm. It would appear the cheap disposable pen was refined into a relatively valuable silver ballpoint pen. Go ahead and hold it. Isn’t it nice and heavy? That’s real silver,” Iris said, offering the ballpoint pen, though it looked more like a fountain pen to me. Without thinking, I accepted it.

Sure enough, there was weight to it. I looked at it up close, but aside from the fact it was somewhat unusual to see a silver ballpoint pen, it seemed perfectly normal. I bet it would write just fine if it had ink.

 

***

 

“Hm, so this is the best ‘Fine’ has to offer. I bet it would still sell for a pretty penny. Of course, using The Clockworks to turn a profit is strictly prohibited,” Iris said jokingly, as she walked toward the Intake booth and opened the door. Sure enough, there was no trace of the ballpoint pen she put in earlier.

“Now do you understand? As you just saw, The Clockworks alters the state of objects. Somehow or other, anything put inside the Intake booth is modified and transferred to the Output booth, where it reappears. No one understands exactly how it works, but this is essentially what the device does,” Iris said. It was an ambiguous explanation, but SCP objects were illogical to begin with. It would be impossible for her to offer a perfectly coherent description. I fully realized that the best way of facing these things was either to use them with a vague understanding of what they did, or isolate them.

“Your collar—the translation collar—was also made using SCP-914’s function,” Iris said, pointing at my neck.

Oh, now that she mentioned it, I remembered her mentioning something to that effect before. I was pretty sure I’d heard her bring up The Clockworks in the past as well.

“Your collar was originally a dog collar,” Iris said. “The kind that could be considered a sort of joke gift, while being marketed as the Holy Grail of dog lovers across the world, because it has the ability to translate a dog’s emotions into words its owner could understand.”

Oh, I could swear I’ve heard about those before. They measure the dog’s perspiration to determine if it’s hungry or tired and then translate that into words for humans to understand. They weren’t terribly accurate, but they weren’t a total sham either. But it wasn’t like they were actually translating what the dogs said for humans to understand either…or so I heard.

“We put one of those in SCP-914’s booth and wound the key with the arrow pointing at Very Fine. And it came out reborn as a terribly wonderful collar capable of translating any language,” Iris explained.

Ah-ha! Now it all made sense. I thought this translation collar seemed like some sort of incredible sci-fi device beyond the scope of modern science. In fact, it was only a product of coincidence, born from a collar through the phenomenal SCP object known as The Clockworks.

“Right. Even if you repeat the exact same procedures, The Clockworks won’t necessarily give you the same results. And since you have to fill out a pile of complicated forms every time you use it, mass producing that translation collar would prove difficult. As such, be very careful not to break it,” Iris warned.

Well, yeah. That went without saying. I was still a far cry from proficient in English, so I’d hardly be able to communicate with Iris without it. Basic daily life would become a struggle.

When I found myself fingering the collar, Iris said in an attempt to cheer me up, “But it’d be inconvenient if you didn’t have the translation collar. As such, we need to make a spare, along with a variety of other useful goods for future experiments. That is the purpose of today’s tests—or rather, the prep work for the upcoming experiments.”

Oh, now everything was starting to fall into place. The purpose of coming to this room dominated by The Clockworks today was to make things as helpful as this translation collar, if not more so. I could certainly use some handy gadgets. Although I could enter a photo at will, my body was still that of a normal senior high boy. I couldn’t put up much of a fight against any dangerous anomalies. I was powerless. The logical response was to try equipping me with gear that either heightened my physical capabilities or improved my investigative prowess.

I’d personally appreciate gaining a means to protect myself or expand what I could do. In all of the tests so far, I simply wandered aimlessly, feeling like a miserable nervous wreck more often than not… I would love to have something to set my mind at ease.

“I know. I consider it foolish to send you into the photos completely unarmed. I’m beside myself with fear each time you go.” Iris looked down, somewhat disgruntled.

Her eyes were on Dr. Selkie, who was still off in the corner of the room crying with her head buried in her hands. Combined with the blood she lost earlier, she was wailing so hard I was afraid all of the liquids were going to drain out of her body.

“Well, let’s put that aside for now. We should focus on the issue at hand: The researchers who were supposed to direct and supervise the process to create those handy items are currently in a nasty bind.”

Yeah, I wondered what we should do… After hearing the explanation for how The Clockworks functioned, I finally realized the severity of the situation. This Dr. Goldman guy ran after the gold ring Dr. Selkie threw in a hissy fit, following it into the Intake booth. And even after The Clockworks finished the refining process, he wasn’t anywhere to be seen in the Output booth…supposedly.

Where in the world did Dr. Goldman disappear to? I assumed he was probably modified to some shape or form… But if this contraption was so incomprehensible that even expert researchers couldn’t predict how things would come out, I couldn’t even begin to imagine his fate.

The idea of a missing body reminded me of some good old mystery novels. But seeing as a bizarre SCP object lay at the root of the mystery, I doubted any amount of clever deduction could crack this case.

 

***

 

“Kiddies, it’s great you two get along and all…but could you lend me a hand?” Dr. Selkie called to us after getting all that crying out of her system.

Iris and I nodded to each other and walked over to the youthful researcher. Crying so much left Dr. Selkie’s eyes puffy. Her hair and clothes clung to her skin in patches due to the dried blood and tears. She looked like a train wreck, but her eyes still shone with a piercing light.

Her own careless actions led to the loss of her precious partner (If Dr. Selkie heard that description, she would probably have a cow… But when she told us about Dr. Goldman, her words were filled with affection.). I wouldn’t blame her if she flew into a hysterical panic.

Either she lacked the strength to go into a frenzy or she was a stronger woman than her childish appearance suggested. Her breathing pained, Dr. Selkie said, “Notice all of the stuff scattered throughout the room? I realize it’ll be rough, but I’d appreciate it if you gathered it up. As you can see, I don’t even have the strength to stand. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to do it for me.”

I’d forgotten about all the things arbitrarily strewn across the room until she mentioned them. There was no correlation between the primarily metallic piles of random stuff… What was the deal with all of it, anyway?

“Well, I must have completely lost my head after Dr. Goldman vanished. I took what appeared in the Output booth and put it back in the Intake booth, repeating the process over and over again,” Dr. Selkie said, forcing herself to answer our question.

“I thought that if I operated it just right, I could reverse-refine the materials back to Dr. Goldman. Yes, yes, I know good and well that the refinement process is usually irreversible. Even if you don’t like the end results, there is no going back,” she said, downcast, but I could fully understand the motive and sentiment that drove her to such drastic measures.

Dr. Goldman vanished. He was probably modified by The Clockworks… In which case, there was a sliver of hope reversing the process and modifying the materials over again might bring him back to his original state.

“But you can see how that ended. No matter what setting I put the Selection Panel on, it only betrayed my expectations with all that junk. Once it even ignored the law of conservation of mass to produce a massive pile of gold. It was a nightmare hauling all of that out of the booth.”

Ah, so throughout the course of repetitively winding up The Clockworks and refining the materials, she created this massive mess. It was a testament to all of the times she wound the key and waited with bated breath for five to ten minutes… Each time she opened the Output door, filled with hope that it finally worked, only to be met with bitter disappointment. She repeated that process over and over again…

Growing utterly exhausted, Dr. Selkie must have fallen into despair. If it were me, I would have curled into a ball out of frustration, but she didn’t give up. And evidently, she did the unthinkable.

“After repeating that for a good while, I came to the conclusion that normal methods wouldn’t cut it. No matter how much I refined these things, Dr. Goldman wasn’t coming back…” Dr. Selkie whispered, glaring spitefully at the junk scattered everywhere. “As such, I put myself in the Intake booth.”

“…That was suicide. Biological testing with The Clockworks was discontinued. It usually ended in tragic results,” Iris said, the blood draining from her face. “Did you feel an impulse to punish yourself due to the guilt over making Dr. Goldman disappear? Were you hoping The Clockworks would make you disappear like it did him? Or give you an even worse fate? That wouldn’t make anyone happy! It wouldn’t resolve anything.”

“Yes, of course I know that,” Dr. Selkie replied. She suddenly came across mature as she rubbed her abdomen. “I set the Selection Panel’s arrow on Very Fine before I stepped into the Intake booth. Do you know what that means?”

She waited for our reactions, pausing briefly like a school teacher waiting on students to answer a difficult question posed to the class, before continuing, “I tried to make it refine me into a much, much better me. I was hoping that if it gave me a brilliant mind, I might be able to find a way to bring Dr. Goldman back… That was my ray of hope.”

I…I understood how she felt, but that was insane. There was no way to predict the results rendered through SCP-914’s refinement process. It was an unstable, irrational contraption that mankind could never hope to fully control.

Yet that was the method Dr. Selkie chose. Did she feel that responsible for Dr. Goldman’s disappearance? I didn’t know if there were greater emotions—a deeper meaning—that drove her to such lengths. Something about her actions seemed very noble to me. Dr. Selkie acted boldly to save another despite the danger to herself. Such self-sacrifice was commonplace in manga and movies, but I didn’t know there were people capable of that in real life… It was rather touching.

 

***

 

Unfortunately, Dr. Selkie’s perilous actions went unrewarded. They failed to bring about the desired results.

“It ended with a horrible flop. Rather than give me the brilliant mind I wanted, The Clockworks toyed with my insides and called it a day. I won’t know exactly what it changed until I undergo a proper exam,” Dr. Selkie said with a dry smile as she gripped her abdomen. “As far as I can tell from my self-examination, it seems like the thing just damaged some of my organs. I should consider myself lucky it didn’t instantly kill me…”

Coughing up more blood, she began to tremble, as if she were suddenly freezing. “No, I suppose you could say I got off quite lucky, seeing as I could have been turned into a ludicrous monstrosity. Certainly that would be consistent with the results that made us discontinue biological testing… But now I’m essentially up the creek without a paddle.”

Her face suddenly went frighteningly blank as she stared at us. “Listen, after you gather the things spread across the room, I want you to temporarily take them out of here. They are what Dr. Goldman turned into. So long as we have these items, it might be possible to revert him. No matter how small, the possibility is still there,” she said, resolute.

Hearing Dr. Selkie reminded me of the lady soldier I encountered in that terrifying Carnival of Horrors. She wore the proud expression of a determined adult.

“Once you’re done, I’ll go back into SCP-914’s booth, even if I have to crawl to get there. I’m betting all my chips on the improbable… I might die this time, or face a fate worse than death, but I’m betting everything on the hope that this time I will receive a wonderful brain capable of resolving this.”

With a gentle smile, she looked us square in the eyes and continued. “The Clockworks is a strange and mysterious SCP object in its own right. I don’t know how this will end, but chances are it won’t end well. So before I change, please run as far from here as you can.”

At the end, Dr. Selkie gave Iris and I each a gentle pat on the head. Perhaps due to severe dehydration and blood loss, her fingertips felt cold as ice. But strange as it might seem, there was still warmth to her touch. It was the warmth of her love and affection. I bet she put her heart into that pat…

“And then I want you to pass on everything you’ve seen and heard here to the Foundation’s higher-ups. Submit it as a single report compiled on the events concerning The Clockworks. That will pave the way for the future,” she instructed.

She sounded as if she were praying as she said, “No matter how great the sorrow or pain, no matter the accident or tragedy, we can confront it if we have the knowledge. Why, that is how we humans have isolated the threats posed by SCP objects so far, all to protect our peaceful daily lives.”

Having confronted these strange and bizarre SCP objects unknown to the masses, Dr. Selkie proclaimed proudly, “This case is no different. At the very least, I hope you put my failure to good use. Otherwise I won’t be able to pass on. My soul won’t be able to rest in peace.”

“Dr. Selkie,” Iris called to her, a serious expression on her face.

Seeing Iris grow tense, Dr. Selkie jumped to the conclusion the younger girl was filled with pity for her, or stiff with terror over the perilous situation, and so she offered a brave smile as she said, “Don’t worry; I don’t intend to die. The odds aren’t very favorable, but I’m certain I’ll come back reborn more wonderful than I am now. I’ll be remodeled by SCP-914’s incomprehensible clockwork hand of God.”

“No, uh, Dr. Selkie… I don’t think you need to go to such drastic measures.”

“…Why not?” Dr. Selkie asked dubiously, feeling she was no longer on the same page as the dazed Iris. Noting the other girl’s eyes were focused elsewhere, Dr. Selkie followed her gaze. Her whole body went taut as if struck by lightning.

“Wh-Wha… Wh-Wh-What?!” Dr. Selkie jumped to her feet as if she completely forgot all about her damaged internal organs.

Swinging her arm up and down countless times like a little girl, she shouted, “You! Why are you alive, Dr. Goldman?!”

At the receiving end of her angry glare… Someone suddenly popped his face out from the shadows of the massive SCP-914’s main body. He was a tall man I had never seen before. He wore a pure white lab coat that perfectly matched Dr. Selkie’s. His facial features were extremely well defined and his fingers were long. His beautiful blond hair seemed to emit an inner light.

This man—probably the very same Dr. Goldman we’d so long discussed—quietly looked around, as if disoriented. Then, in calm contrast to the practically hysterical Dr. Selkie, he winked. “Philosophy? That was never one of your strengths, my darling Selkie.”

 

***

 

“O-Of all the…! Damn you, Dr. Goldman!” Dr. Selkie cried.

We assumed Dr. Goldman was refined to oblivion by The Clockworks, but now he’d reappeared as if nothing ever happened. Dr. Selkie was struggling to accept the reality he was alive; her mouth flapped open and shut as her voice issued sounds that refused to resolve into words. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Relief gradually washed over her face, which turned to joy…

“You jerk! I can’t believe you! How far must you push my buttons before you’re satisfied? I swear, I will never, ever forgive you for this so long as I live!” Dr. Selkie shouted, pouring such strong emotion into her words that it came across like a marriage proposal.

Then she ran straight toward Dr. Goldman. On the verge of death, her innards a scrambled mess, I wondered where she found the strength to run. Was a flood of endorphins making her oblivious to the pain? Or was this the power of love? The only reason that bit about love popped into my head was due to what Dr. Selkie did next.

Overcome with emotion, Dr. Selkie flung herself onto Dr. Goldman in an ecstatic embrace. It was a passionate hug. Feeling like we weren’t meant to see this, I reached my hands out to cover Iris’s eyes. But Iris was doing the exact same thing, and my hands met hers midway in the air. We slipped our fingers together without thinking, falling into a funny position as if we were dancing a waltz or something. The wild turn of events left us too stunned and confused to realize how awkward that was and pull our hands apart.

“There, there,” Dr. Goldman cooed. He lovingly wrapped his arms around Dr. Selkie while she cried like a baby. He gently laid his cheek on the top of her head as if they were tight-knit lovers. Actually, that could very well be the case.

The two researchers had a long relationship extending all the way back to their college days. After all the years they’ve spent working so closely, perhaps a special sort of bond formed between them. Whether it was romantic or not, I lacked the experience in such things to say for certain. But I vaguely felt jealous of the two.

…This was awesome. It was like they got their fairytale happy ending. Not that I had any idea what the heck was going on.

“Now if you’ll allow me to explain what happened! This was payback for the way you cruelly threw my beloved ring into SCP-914’s booth,” Dr. Goldman said in a resounding voice, then laughed merrily. “It was to be an innocent, little prank. Upon giving the appearance of following the ring into the Intake booth, I immediately concealed myself in the shadows of SCP-914’s main body. I’m proud to say that glorious performance would put any magician to shame.”

“……” Dr. Selkie didn’t respond. She was aghast. It seemed less like she couldn’t understand what Dr. Goldman was saying, and more like she didn’t want to understand.

I couldn’t see her very well from where I was standing, but I could sense intense emotions raging throughout her entire tiny body. She was like a volcano about to erupt.

“I was hoping you would realize the egregious mistake you made, grow flustered, and ultimately regret the error of your ways. You have a tendency to be somewhat impulsive and reckless. While I find both traits endearing, I hoped some introspection would help you grow as a person,” Dr. Goldman continued.

“……”

“But you were so much fun to watch, I missed my chance to come out. I actually planned to pop out shouting, ‘Surprise!’ much sooner.”

“……”

“While I was watching you fiddle around, things suddenly took a drastic turn for the worse… You threw yourself into the Intake booth. Don’t do anything dangerous like that ever again, my darling Selkie. It’s truly a blessing you’re still alive.”

“But,” Dr. Selkie whispered in a forced voice, finally breaking her silence, “you vanished…! I had to do something! My rash actions brought about that accident, and there’s no one in the facility I can turn to! I-I had to figure something out myself! That’s why I—Oh, forget it!”

Dr. Selkie pushed Dr. Goldman away and stomped her foot. “I can’t believe it! I risked my life to save you! I was worried sick! And you were off in some corner laughing at me the whole time?! Unbelievable! You’re the worst! I hate your guts!” Dr. Selkie’s voice cracked as she shouted, unable to restrain herself against the tide of anger, embarrassment, and a surge of other emotions.

I didn’t blame her. That was definitely a bit cruel of him. He took the prank too far. But something about his story didn’t add up.

Before I could determine why I thought something felt off, the gears in my head froze as Dr. Selkie began to make the most incredible proclamation. “I came here today with a specific purpose in mind. I wanted to move our relationship to the next level… I carefully practiced for the big proposal to ensure it was perfect down to the most minute detail, from the speech to the flick of my wrist,” Dr. Selkie wailed, her head lowered. She wiped the stream of her tears with the back of her hand.

“Here I was going to discuss something very important with you, and you had to pull that stupid prank… It made me so outraged, I lost my temper and threw your precious ring. But after this, I’m glad I didn’t tell you any of the things I had planned,” she sobbed.

With a loud crack, Dr. Selkie slapped Dr. Goldman across the cheek, spat in his face, turned on her heels, and ran toward the closed door. She didn’t turn back, face twisted in pain. She howled: “Stupid! A scoundrel like you should spend his whole life unloved and alone! I hope you die in some ditch without leaving any footprint on the world! Jerkface! I’ll have you know, I—” The rest of her words were lost in sobs.

Opening the door, Dr. Selkie ran out of the room. We could hear the sound of her feet hitting the floor grow distant. Silence began to waft through the space dominated by The Clockworks.

“……”

Left behind, neither Iris nor I were able to say anything as we simply stared like fools down the direction Dr. Selkie ran. Honestly, what could more-or-less uninvolved bystanders such as ourselves do when caught in the middle of a fight like this?

But Dr. Goldman was still frozen stiff on the floor where he fell from the slap, so I turned toward him out of concern. I hoped he was all right. If everything he said was true, he really was as big of a scumbag as Dr. Selkie claimed… While there was no room in my heart for sympathy, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. The whole time he played the villain, his eyes were filled with sorrow…

 

***

 

“Ha ha ha! What a riot! I have a feeling this will go down as the funniest story of my life,” Dr. Goldman suddenly exclaimed with a bark of laughter, making me jump.

He slowly sat up and elegantly brushed the dust off his lab coat. He appeared to be wearing a fine suit under the coat. He straightened his necktie to perfection, the image of a sophisticated gentleman. Yet in contrast to his refined mannerisms, the look on his face was as much a mess as his hair.

“We may seem like polar opposites, but we’re kindred souls where it counts, my darling Selkie. I, too, intended to tell you something important today. But I was too embarrassed to straight up tell you how I love you when we always bicker like an old married couple,” he said.

Suddenly jumping to his feet, Dr. Goldman simply stood in a frozen daze like an abandoned scarecrow.

“So I decided to tease you a little with an innocent prank. I slipped your wedding ring into the sandwich… Would you get angry like always upon finding it? I love that fiery temper of yours. I was going to say that, hug you, and take our relationship a little further…” he said as if talking to himself, but loud enough I could hear every word.

Well, they certainly were made for each other. They just so happened to come here today with the exact same purpose in mind. But minor misunderstandings and accidents prevented their dreams from coming true. The gears slipped off track, failing to mesh…

No, something still felt off. It wasn’t adding up. If Dr. Goldman genuinely loved Dr. Selkie, there was no way he would have acted the way he portrayed himself in that explanation. It was hard to believe he pretended to enter the Intake booth and watched everything unfold from the shadows… Could he really play such a cruel prank on Dr. Selkie and then watch her panic the whole time?

That was actually unbelievably mean. If he cared for Dr. Selkie, he’d rush to show her he was okay and put her mind at ease. At the very least, he would have tried to stop her from entering the Intake booth, by force if necessary.

Would he pop up claiming she was so much fun to watch, that he missed his cue because he was too busy laughing? And after being so heartless, would he have the nerve to mope like a character from some tragedy now that it was all over? I’d question his sanity if all of that was true!

“Oh, you two… That’s right. I was supposed to supervise your work today,” Dr. Goldman said. As if finally noticing us, he flashed Iris and I a bright smile.

Neither of us were able to respond. Iris and I turned toward each other at a loss of what to do.

“I’m terribly sorry, but I’d appreciate if that could wait a bit. We need to clean this room first and fore—” I cut Dr. Goldman off with a shriek when I turned to look the researcher in the face. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Dr. Goldman had a handsome face, but his cheek was peeling off! The impact of Dr. Selkie’s slap was making chunks crumble from his face. It was reminiscent of paint slowly peeling away from a rickety old building. Normally muscle peaked out from under flayed skin. Dark-red muscle. But for some reason, his cheek was shining—shining golden. Was a layer of his flesh replaced with gold…?

“Oops. You’ll have to pardon me. Please pretend you didn’t see that,” Dr. Goldman said with a charming wink as he covered his cheek with one hand.

“I’m afraid Selkie would blame herself. She had no way of knowing The Clockworks would refine me into nothing more than gold retaining Dr. Goldman’s personality when I entered the Intake booth with that gold ring.

“It’s most fascinating. Much like in the old movie, The Fly, I’ve merged with the gold ring that was inside the Intake booth at the same time as me to create a hybrid. I’ve been reborn as organic gold capable of altering my own form at will,” he said and regrew the skin that peeled from his cheeks right before my eyes. It regained normal flesh tones, turning back to Dr. Goldman’s usual face. The flakes of flesh that peeled off turned into gold dust that danced around him.

“Although my psyche belongs to Dr. Goldman, I was fundamentally reborn. The lucky man who loved Selkie and was probably loved by her in return—that Dr. Goldman—has already died. As I am now, in this form, I cannot return her love,” he explained.

So he intentionally said all of those cruel things to push her away. She leapt toward sacrificing herself as atonement without a moment’s hesitation, so he did it to ensure she wouldn’t do anything else rash.

But this was love, too. It was a very human emotion filled with devotion and consideration. Dr. Goldman was a man who knew love. But that was precisely what made this such a tragedy.

If Dr. Selkie knew it was her fault Dr. Goldman changed, she would be overcome with regret. This time she really might leap into SCP-914’s booth again to change him back. Knowing how she would react, Dr. Goldman told that gentle lie and intentionally tried to make her hate him. It was all done out of love. Still lacking life experience, it was hard for a simple high school kid such as myself to comprehend such deep affection.

“Now, now! Don’t look so serious. I can’t stand when things get tense. I’ll have you know, the scientist in me is somewhat enjoying the situation,” Dr. Goldman said. He rubbed his finger along his body and barked an indomitable laugh. “The results for this test are most fascinating. This is what makes researching SCP objects so alluring.”

It sounded to me like he was putting on a show for us, but there was nothing I could say. It wasn’t my place as an ignorant kid to speak against him, not if this was what a mature adult had decided was best after careful consideration. I couldn’t explain how or why I thought it wasn’t right. So at the very least, I wanted to remember how he truly felt. I didn’t want to forget about his love, which shone as majestically as his golden body.

“Now then, let’s get busy cleaning up. Of course, you’re willing to help, aren’t you? I’m eager to finish our tasks so I can gently pacify Selkie and reconcile with her. So let’s clean this up in a jiffy. The possibility of being united with her has greatly decreased, but even so, I still want to be with her,” Dr. Goldman said with a somewhat forced smile. We both nodded in understanding.

I finally noticed I was still holding Iris’s hands, but somehow it felt right to keep holding them anyway… For a while, I couldn’t budge. I stared at what became of a man who knew what it was to love someone—or perhaps I should say, at the nonhuman organism that was filled with a love greater than any other.

In the back of the room, the countless springs and gears that created The Clockworks made a sound like an innocent baby laughing.