SCP-348: A Gift from Dad

SCP-348:
A Gift from Dad

 

AS CLOSE AS EVER, Iris and I were having breakfast together that day as well. We were dining in the canteen, a hot spot for the SCP Foundation’s on-site personnel for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Due to some atypical circumstances, we wound up sleeping in pretty late this day. The canteen was empty by the time we rolled in, completely void of any other diners. Silence hung so heavily in the air that the rattle of the revolving ventilation fan resounded clearly throughout the room.

“……”

Iris and I had been drawn into the upheaval concerning that horrifying Builder Bear until late the previous night. I have no doubt there will come a day I have a chance to recount that episode, although I’d personally prefer it stayed buried in my memories. It left us mentally and physically exhausted. It was obvious Iris took it particularly hard, since she used to dote on that strange, moving stuffed animal. For every nibble of toast, she sighed three times.

I didn’t have much of an appetite myself. It took all I had to slowly—slowly—sip at the piping hot, extra-strong coffee I’d brewed in hopes of fending off drowsiness. My actual breakfast of toast, a salad, bacon, and eggs remained untouched.

“You should force yourself to eat, ███,” Iris said in her typical mom-or-big-sister tone. “Dr. Bright is scheduled to return today from wherever he took off to under the pretext of work again. He’ll probably want to resume testing with us immediately upon arrival, so you need to eat up and get lots of nutrients,” she said.

I knew that. With a nod, I mechanically stuffed a cherry tomato into my mouth. It was surprising how that eccentric researcher—Dr. Bright—was constantly popping in and out of this research site. Rumor had it they visited research facilities around the globe. They seemed to truly be an elite researcher run ragged by their schedule. Dr. Bright had been gone a while, but supposedly they would return today.

Honestly, I mildly dreaded dealing with them. Neither Iris nor I were emotionally capable of dealing with their outlandish comments politely. They claimed the position of head researcher presiding over us as SCP objects, so if that weirdo said they wanted to use us for a test, we had to suck it up and comply.

At least we reaped some benefits from Dr. Bright becoming our supervisor and guardian. We hardly ever had anyone give us a hard time. It was almost as if no one wanted to get involved with Dr. Bright if they could help it.

There were times Dr. Bright’s presence came in handy, but they were fairly annoying and troublesome when around. We basically viewed them along the lines of an irritating parent. Iris and I were half-heartedly discussing our thoughts on the mad scientist when…

“Hey there! I’m home, kids! Did you miss me? It’s Daddy! ☆”

I could have sworn a grenade went off. Iris and I grudgingly turned toward the sound of the voice. As extravagant as ever, Dr. Bright was standing in the entrance of the canteen. I wasn’t sure if this was their favorite host, but lately they always used that mature, female beauty. Dr. Bright was in a crimson dress with a pure white lab coat. For some unknown reason, a massive number of paper bags dangled from both hands. For the finishing touch, a cheap lei hung from their neck. What in the world…? Did Dr. Bright go to Hawaii or something…? Lacking the energy today to balk over their antics, we simply gave unamused glares.

“My, my! Not much of a reaction! You’re going to make me sad! Of course, I heard all about the fascinating phenomena—er, I mean, unfortunate incident that you got mixed up in during my absence. Don’t let the past weigh you down forever! Turn your eyes toward the future! Push forward toward a bright tomorrow! C’mon, don’t break your promise to Daddy! ♪” Dr. Bright shouted gratuitously infuriating crap as they zoomed toward us at an amazing speed. They wasted energy trying to give Iris a return-home hug only for the younger girl to dodge it. Then Dr. Bright lunged at Iris and kissed the ground when the younger girl dodged again. Why did this weirdo always have to be so rowdy?

But thanks to Dr. Bright’s abnormally cheerful personality, the heavy, funereal atmosphere hanging over us dissipated as if it was never there. I was willing to give them that. As the rather rude thought of how even this freak could make themselves useful ran through my head, Iris spat, a finger pressed to the middle of her brow. “There are several issues I would like to raise, Dr. Bright. But first, you are not our father. Haven’t I told you countless times it’s unpleasant hearing you imply that we are related? Furthermore, wouldn’t you be our mother in that form, not our father?”

“Ah ha ha! You’re surprisingly nitpicky, Riss! If you’re too uptight, you’ll get wrinkles before your time.”

“Don’t shorten my name. Even if intended as an expression of affection, hearing it from you is infuriating.”

“That’s not a problem! Love and hate are two sides of the same coin! Just think, the disgust swirling around in your chest could be the buds of romance!”

“There is a 0% possibility of that. In fact, there is no need to discuss it further,” Iris snapped.

“I’m not surprised! After all, my sweetie Riss is too busy enjoying co-ed life with a boy nearly the same age, like something out of the pages of an old romcom manga. Your maiden’s heart is preoccupied with that!”

“……” Iris fell silent for a while. Either Dr. Bright’s last jeer threw her off-kilter, or she finally remembered a fundamental law of being left alone: don’t feed the trolls.

After moistening their mouth with some coffee, Dr. Bright began going over the contents of the paper bags—evidently souvenirs—without any prompting on our part. For the record, they were silly odds and ends from around the world, including an Akabeko cow from Japan, of all things. As the researcher commenced show-and-tell time, Iris gave them a death glare.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Bright, but you’re such an eyesore, please die… I mean, did you need us for something? You didn’t have to come out of your way to barge in on us while we’re eating breakfast. If you called for us, we would have gone to your lab later.” Iris tilted her head in curiosity even as she accidently let a rather terrifying comment slip out. Apparently, she really didn’t have the patience to deal with Dr. Bright today, and was sharper than usual. “Did you have something urgent to tell us?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s urgent, but it is extremely important,” Dr. Bright answered. Instead of taking offense at Iris’s questionable attitude, Dr. Bright seemed bemused as they gazed at her, and helped themself to a seat next to us. As if famished, they began to plow into the salads we had barely even touched. I swear, this person was too much.

“Num, yum! Dang, everyone gathered together at the table truly is wonderful! This is what life is all about! It is sheer bliss. And I actually mean that pretty seriously!” Dr. Bright released a satisfied belch and roughly pushed the dishes off to the side, making room for one of the paper bags they’d been holding.

“But unlike me, your lives are limited. Let’s make the most of your time. I’d like to take advantage of the fact we’re gathered around the table to conduct a little experiment. Is that all right with you?”

“If I said it wasn’t, you’d still drag us into it, wouldn’t you?” Iris said in defeat, too tired to put up a fight.

 

***

 

And with that, we began a somewhat spontaneous experiment led by Dr. Bright. Not knowing the nature or purpose of the experiment made me nervous, but honestly, it wasn’t like I had a reason to dig my heels in and refuse to participate. I didn’t have that kind of energy, either. Both of us were truly dead on our feet today.

With unconcealed excitement, Dr. Bright shuffled through the paper bag on the table. They pulled out some sort of dishware—a ceramic bowl—to show off to us.

“Okay, kiddies, check this out! I received permission from a certain site to bring this here! I didn’t steal it! I actually filled out the paperwork to transfer it for once!” Dr. Bright sounded so suspicious, I couldn’t help but suspect otherwise.

At any rate, it appeared to be a perfectly ordinary, unspectacular bowl. There was a pattern of light blue flowers on the exterior along with what appeared to be Chinese characters, although I couldn’t read what they said.

“By any chance,” Iris said with her eyes round in surprise, evidently recognizing the bowl, “is that A Gift from Dad?”

“Goodness! You already know about it, Iris?”

“Just the rumors. Isn’t it so beneficial to mankind that it’s held in the same light as the Panacea?” Iris asked.

“You have the right of it. And unlike the highly limited Panacea, it can be reused indefinitely, so there’s no need to be frugal with it. Sadly, it isn’t terribly effective unless you’re young, so it’s nothing more than a nifty bowl to me,” Dr. Bright said.

Iris noticed I was floundering, unable to follow the conversation held by these two SCP object experts. She was kind enough to fill me in. “Ah, you don’t know about it, do you, ███? As I recall, this is SCP-348…I think. It’s also known as A Gift from Dad. Object Class: Safe. As I just said a moment ago, it is considered an extremely useful item. I’ve never personally used it, but that’s what I’ve heard.”

Object Class: Safe, huh? One of the frustrating things with SCP objects was that even a Safe designation didn’t necessarily mean you could let your guard down. Up until just recently, the Builder Bear that threw us into the pit of Hell last night was also designated “Safe.” Whatever. I should put that accursed stuffed bear out of my head for the time being.

A “?” practically appeared over Iris’s head as she watched me shake my head to shoo away unnecessary thoughts. Despite being puzzled, she was kind enough to further elaborate. “A Gift from Dad is quite similar to the first SCP object I showed you, The Never-Ending Pizza Box, ███.”

Man, that took me back. The box that could produce an infinite number of pizzas… It was still sitting out here in the canteen, so I occasionally used it. Each time I did, its delicious pizza sent my taste buds to Heaven (It always produced exactly what type of pizza I was craving).

So this was similar… But what was that supposed to mean? Could this bowl produce an endless supply of pizza?

“No, of course not. It makes soup, not pizza. The soup is extremely delicious, loaded with various ingredients… Isn’t that right, Dr. Bright?”

“Indeed. Good call comparing it to The Never-Ending Pizza Box. In the case of A Gift from Dad, this bowl can fill endlessly with delicious soup the person sitting before it is bound to love,” Dr. Bright said.

Fill endlessly? They said that so casually, but it was a really big deal… I had no idea how that worked, but that was precisely what made it an SCP object. Yet having grown fairly accustomed to such anomalies, I was beyond freaking out or making wisecracks over something like that at this point. Instead, I silently listened to their explanation.

“Furthermore, the soup that springs forth in the bowl has mild healing properties for those who eat it,” Dr. Bright said, looking disappointed by my unenthusiastic reaction. “While it isn’t a cure-all to the same degree as Panacea, simply eating the soup from A Gift from Dad will completely cure minor ailments and injuries. To top it off, you’re enveloped in a sense of contentment while eating it, forgetting any and all dark emotions, such as loneliness and fear.”

“Ahh, we could certainly use that at the moment,” Iris said, looking at Dr. Bright in mild surprise, before smiling. “You heard we were upset and went through all that annoying paperwork just to bring A Gift from Dad to us? You can be pretty thoughtful sometimes, Doc!”

“Wah ha ha! But of course! The SCP Foundation brags to the entire world about how I’m such a nice guy!” Dr. Bright boasted proudly with their head held high and chest puffed out, their comment clashing with that hot body.

Hm… Seeing as this was Dr. Bright we were dealing with, I simply assumed they had a dirty trick up their sleeve. Was this actually a genuine act of kindness done out of the goodness of their heart? I still couldn’t fully trust them…but we’d never get anywhere if I doubted every little thing.

“Feel free to help yourselves, kiddos,” Dr. Bright said with a dazzling smile, before pushing SCP-348 in front of us with both hands. As they pushed the bowl, that mad scientist said somewhat ominously, “After this, I’m going to have you two—especially ███—experience something a bit shocking. The ordeal is too harsh to challenge when you’re emotionally spent; I need you to feel reasonably better.”

“Ordeal? What sort of trouble are you planning to get us mixed up in this time, Dr. Bright?” Iris asked. The expression on her face screamed, “I knew it!” Why, she even heaved a sigh, as if relieved. Honestly, there was no way this troublesome researcher would do anything out of the goodness of their heart.

As such thoughts ran through my head, I happened to glance down at SCP-348… I have no idea when it first started, but somewhere along the line, liquid began filling the ceramic bowl.

“Oh, wow! It really does fill with soup on its own,” Iris exclaimed, sliding her chair back some in surprise.

Seeing as it continued to rise at the same speed, the soup appearing in A Gift from Dad was probably meant for me. Despite not having an appetite all morning, simply the smell of it made me feel famished. It smelled great. I bet the soup would taste amazing.

I watched the bowl fill for a while, ultimately coming to a stop once the soup hit a certain point. It appeared to be a simple soup with odd-sized vegetable slices and the type of meat sold on discount at grocery stores.

Hold up. Something about it looked familiar… I could swear I’ve had this soup somewhere before…

 

***

 

“Go ahead. Have some, ███,” Dr. Bright urged, watching me with keen interest.

They looked so excited, I was struck with a strange sense of resistance, but I braced myself for whatever might happen and pulled the bowl closer. With a spoon in one hand, I began to sip.

“H-How is it? If it tastes bad or makes you feel weird, spit it out, okay?” Iris said worriedly, but for better or worse, there was nothing strange about the taste of the soup filling my mouth. It wasn’t as if it was amazingly wonderful, but it was nowhere near bad enough to spit out, either. It was normal soup.

A familiar flavor that tasted just right spread throughout my mouth. I was certain I recognized this seasoning. I’d had this soup somewhere before.

“Well, according to SCP-348’s test results, young subjects generally enjoy the soup produced, stating it reminds them of their parents’ cooking,” Dr. Bright offered. That would certainly explain it.

Sure enough, this tasted exactly like the food my parents made every day. It was home cooking… That would explain why it felt so nostalgic.

My parents… My family… Suddenly overwhelmed by sadness, tears welled up in my eyes. Family. They were part of my former life. It all felt very distant from me now. I was currently living somewhere awfully far from them. I was unable to bear that new reality; it weighed down on me relentlessly.

The soup was definitely good. It healed the soul, filling me with happiness by simply putting a spoonful in my mouth. But that wasn’t enough. I couldn’t take this any longer. Suffering a severe case of homesickness, I desperately wanted to see my parents—my family. Mom, Dad, my familiar old home…

I wanted to go home. At the very least, I wanted to talk to my family, if only to say a few words. I broke down against the flood of emotions; unable to hold them back, they turned into tears that streamed down my cheeks. Damn, this was embarrassing! I couldn’t believe I was crying… But I was bursting with such nostalgia and sorrow, I honestly thought I was going to lose my mind.

“███? A-Are you okay?” Iris asked, looking at me worriedly. She gently dabbed at my cheeks with one of the paper napkins placed on the table. I let her wipe my cheeks as I drowned in my tears.

What was I doing in this place? I’d given up on going back, telling myself this was simply how things were, accepted my fate, and even grew comfortable with my new environment. But as it clicked that the life I always took for granted had slipped far out of my reach without my even realizing it, I began to tremble in apprehension and fear.

“Uh-huh, I see. I thought that might be the case,” Dr. Bright said with a knowing expression on their face, as if they’d read my mind.

With a wry smile, they pointed at A Gift from Dad, their flashy red fingernail standing out a mile. “Look, ███. Now that you’ve consumed the soup, isn’t a message materializing on the inside of the bowl?”

I didn’t notice until Dr. Bright pointed it out, but on the inside of the simple bowl—A Gift from Dad—Japanese characters had at some point begun to reveal themselves. Hmmm, I wondered what the message said…

“Heh heh! This is one of the fascinating features regarding SCP-348… Upon finishing the soup, the message that appears will be in the language most familiar to the drinker of the soup. It isn’t guaranteed, but can be observed with high frequency,” Dr. Bright said.

Leaning in, Dr. Bright peered into the bowl. “What does it say? The messages it displays are typically warm words of comfort… Or rather, they are the most important message or warning the drinker of the soup’s parents wanted to pass on to their child.”

Embarrassed over having a woman’s face so close (Dr. Bright outwardly looked like an absolutely gorgeous bombshell), I felt oddly flustered as I listened to their explanation. “Previous cases have included ‘Don’t forget to brush,’ ‘I’m glad you’re happy,’ and ‘Thank you.’ In tune with SCP-348’s plain appearance, the messages are often simple… What type of message did you parents have for you?”

Hm, I tried to imagine what my parents wanted to say to me most right now… Since I was probably being treated as a missing person, I bet it would be along the lines of “We’re worried about you” or “Where are you now?” Expecting to find a message along those lines, I casually looked into the bowl.

As the line of characters entered my eyes, I was shocked. The message written on the inside of A Gift from Dad said, “I’m so proud of you for never skipping school.”

……

…What?

What was that supposed to mean? I haven’t gone to school in ages. But it was true that before I wound up in this eerie SCP Foundation research facility, I had perfect attendance and no tardies. Overall on the healthy side, I wasn’t undisciplined enough to play hooky. In reality, I was only attending school out of habit. Nevertheless, my parents often dropped words of praise for maintaining such a pristine track record. They’ve outright told me in person the exact same thing that was written in A Gift from Dad. I could still remember the hint of pride in their smiles…

Er, so what did this mean? Was this message what my parents in the past, not the present, wanted to convey to me…? It wasn’t horribly appropriate for me at the moment. In fact, it outright didn’t apply.

“No, the message displayed in SCP-348 is supposed to be a message that your parents currently want to pass on to you. Hm, this is most fascinating. Yes, I believe it will support my theory,” Dr. Bright said.

With a broad grin, they offhandedly claimed, “It’s just as I suspected. ███, apparently, you aren’t a resident of our world.”

Uh, what…?