SCP-105: “Iris”

SCP-105:
“Iris”

 

IT WAS THE first night I found myself lost (how else could I describe it?) in the SCP Foundation’s strange research facility. I was currently in Iris’s personal quarters, tucked away in a wing of what I could only assume was the underground personnel residential area. It’s not like they gave me a map.

Either Iris didn’t believe in collecting much stuff, or there were restrictions on how much she could own as an SCP object. Whatever the case, her room was extremely barren. It wasn’t what I imagined when I pictured a normal girl’s room. It lacked any kind of cute, feminine touch.

It was a pretty nice-sized room, just a bit smaller than the classrooms at my high school. Simple wallpaper was plastered on the walls and unappealing carpeting was laid out across the floor. A metal office desk, a locker, and a bed with a pipe frame like something taken from a hospital were placed throughout the room in an arrangement that pleased the eye.

The room was clean, but overall there were so few things that it didn’t exactly need tidying to begin with. I thought the place could use some stuffed animals or knick-knacks.

I could tell Iris worked to make the freakishly uninviting room acceptable for a young woman to live in. The books with marked pages, clothes strewn along the walls, wads of paper, juice boxes with the straws sticking out, and other odds-and-ends gave it a lived-in vibe. It was enough to make me aware that I was in a girl’s bedroom. Even under the circumstances, I was a bit nervous.

Figuring she didn’t want me snooping around, I did my best to keep my eyes focused on Iris. Despite all the times I saw her in the photos, most of them were taken head-on, so it was somewhat refreshing to her other angles.

“███, how do you customarily decide something in Japan?” Iris asked as she turned to face me after furiously throwing something that she didn’t want me to see (maybe panties or her diary…) into the locker. Not really catching her drift, I was at a loss as to how I should answer.

Iris shrugged and patted the bed twice with the palm of her hand. “Bluntly put, there is only one bed in this room. It is, after all, my private room. And sleeping together would not, logically speaking, be very desirable for either of us, would it? Therefore, it is imperative we determine who will obtain the right to sleep upon the bed! Do you understand?” she said, coming across polite and logical, but also rather hard to understand. It was true there was only one bed…and sleeping together would be bad.

We weren’t in that sort of relationship. But if you asked me to describe the nature of our relationship, I’d struggle to find any answer at all.

At any rate, this was Iris’s room, so she should get to sleep on the bed. I was like a freeloader, bumming in on her. Besides, it didn’t seem right to enjoy a good night’s rest while making a girl sleep on the floor.

There was a good chance I was originally supposed to sleep in that musky cell…and Iris was inviting me into her room out of the kindness of her heart. Getting to stay here was more than enough. I noticed there was a sofa, so I could borrow a blanket and sleep there. I wouldn’t be able to sleep fully stretched out on one that small, but it beat rolling around on the floor.

Personally, I was more concerned about sleeping in the same room as a girl, which felt foreign to me. Could I actually fall asleep while hearing the sound of her breathing? I wasn’t too sure I could. Simply the thought of it made my pulse race. As a normal, hormonal high schooler who didn’t have much luck with girls, this situation was bad for my heart.

“I see, but you really don’t need to hold back on my account, ███,” Iris said, her brow knit in concern after hearing out my jumbled opinion. “You’re a bit reserved… You don’t give your own unvarnished opinion very much, do you? Be more assertive! Do all Japanese come across this way?”

Although she didn’t seem happy with the situation, Iris pulled the blanket from her bed. Moving as nimbly as a little animal, she carried it over to me and plopped the blanket in my arms.

“It’s too late to argue over the finer details of life. I’m exhausted, so I’m going to bed. Sorry, but please sleep with the blanket on the sofa for today.” Pulling open the locker she probably used as a wardrobe, Iris said, “First thing tomorrow, I’ll request they either deliver an extra bed or set up a room for you… I’d like to change into my pajamas, so could you turn around?”

As soon as I heard that, I quickly averted my eyes. A moment later, I could hear the sound of cloth rustling. I guess she was changing… Oh, jeez! How did I end up in this situation?

 

***

 

If Iris was going to change right there, then I was going to try and divert my attention as far away as I could. I studied the things in the room in the order they entered my line of sight. The date displayed on the digital clock atop the office desk matched the day I went to the library. I’d randomly teleported (had I?) to a research facility supposedly located in the U.S.A., but that didn’t mean I’d traveled to the past or future, too. Well, I guess that was good news.

I realized a bunch of strange things were probably contained within the confines of this research facility. Nevertheless, my normal, lower-middle class mind couldn’t handle crazy mumbo-jumbo out of a sci-fi flick happening left and right.

…What was this? As my eyes drifted around the part of the office desk that held the digital clock, something caught my attention. True to my stereotypical image of a foreign girl, there was a large corkboard hanging on the wall next to the desk with several photos pinned to it. A bunch of framed photos were also placed across the desk nearby.

Come to think of it, Iris was the Girl in the Photos. She was almost always holding a camera in the photos. It was such a magnificent, high-end looking Polaroid camera that I was under the vague impression she was either a professional photographer or a hardcore hobbyist.

All of the photos were taken from unique angles, but there were only a handful to be seen. I guess she wasn’t snapping away all day, even if she was a shutterbug. With nothing better to do, such relatively trivial thoughts ran through my head.

As far as I could see, there was nothing but landscape photography. That came across to me as the mark of a true hobbyist. Most people liked to take pictures of other people, or themselves, be it in commemorative photos or selfies… Or was all of that unique to Japanese culture?

At any rate, each of the pictures were beautiful. All of them depicted places I had never been. I didn’t recognize most of the locations, but I did particularly notice one. It was probably the Grand Canyon. It was one of the greatest, most wondrous vistas around, a place that America took great pride in. As I recalled, that majestic canyon was among the biggest in the world. I’d seen what it looked like on TV. I guess Iris actually went there in person and hit the shutter. As someone whose life was just home and school, I was a bit jealous of her.

…Huh? Something didn’t feel quite right. I made my way to the corkboard. At first, I thought it was due to the lighting, but one of the photos shone white, preventing me from seeing what it was. It wasn’t as if there was a dire need to learn the contents of the photo, but I had nothing better to do while waiting for Iris to finish changing and was somewhat curious.

As I drew near, the answer became clear. No wonder I couldn’t tell what it was a picture of. For some reason, it was the only photo pinned backwards.

Either Iris didn’t want to look at it and intentionally pinned it up backwards, or she pinned it that way by mistake… If the former, it wouldn’t feel right to look without permission, but ultimately my curiosity got the better of me. I reached out for the photo, flipped it over, and took a peek.

It was an impulsive act driven by sheer curiosity. For a long time to come, I would regret ever touching the photo at that moment.

The picture was crimson red.

For a split second, I thought it was covered in red paint or something. Or if not, that maybe Iris made a mistake during the shoot that caused the photo to come out red… But neither of these were the case. This shade of red was…blood. It was the color of human blood.

Apparently, this was a murder scene. The grotesque photo showed blood splattered all across the room. Parts were blacked out, as if blood had splattered the camera lens. Thanks to that, I couldn’t clearly discern the contents of the picture.

At the very least, it seemed like it was a photo of some kind of room. A common Western-style living room. A pair of human legs looked as if they were growing out of the corner of the photo. Covered in bloody gashes and twisted at unnatural angles, they probably belonged to a corpse.

What the hell? What was this creepy, disgusting photo doing in here…?

“…Is something the matter?” Iris asked. She must have sensed something was amiss, for she turned to face me…or so I thought. I didn’t get the chance to find out.

As if the spray of blood in the photo came pouring out, my vision was drowned in the color red. I stumbled, staggered—like a man gone drunk—before falling unconscious.

 

***

 

The air tasted different. My surroundings were filled with a nauseating stench, denser than anything I had ever breathed before. Fighting the urge not to barf, I had to cover my mouth with my hands.

My eyes batted rapidly—I was utterly dumbstruck. This was a completely different location. I was just in Iris’s fairly comfortable, albeit stark, bedroom. Now I was standing somewhere else altogether, like I’d randomly teleported there.

I was struck with a strange sense of déjà vu, despite the fact I had never seen this place before. Oh, duh! I’d just caught a glimpse of this room in that picture… It was the same Western-style living room. Compared to Japanese living rooms, it was pretty spacious, but things were strewn about like a hurricane had blown through.

Popcorn was scattered everywhere. The curtains were tattered and torn. Gouges raced along the walls, floor, and ceiling. The light had fallen from the ceiling and shattered. The club chair was overturned. The piano legs were broken. Dirt was spilling from the overturned houseplant’s pot. Cracks ran through the big-screen TV. And then there was all that blood.

Everything was dyed crimson with blood. This was probably the source of the awful stench wafting in the air. It was abnormal, a miserable odor that I would probably never smell if I stayed in peaceful Japan.

Ignorant of the situation and what had transpired, I simply stood there stupefied, unable to so much as force out a scream… And then I heard groaning. Filled with hesitant trepidation, I turned toward the sound of the voice.

In the corner of the room, a man drenched in blood leaned against the wall, his legs sprawled out before him. In the corner of this vandalized room, he was knocking on Death’s door.

There was no way he would survive. I didn’t know what happened, but I could see his legs and hands were twisted in unnatural angles, and he was bleeding profusely from multiple lacerations across his body. The wounds were made by some kind of sharp blade. Cracks in the wall behind him spread like a spider web, his head substantially caving in on itself.

It looked like a giant monster with jagged claws had crushed this guy before bashing him into the wall… I was no doctor, so I couldn’t say anything for certain, but it looked pretty obvious these injuries were fatal. But this man, whom I still didn’t know by name at the time, was very much alive.

“Nnngh,” he muttered incomprehensibly, under his breath.

After a moment’s hesitation, curiosity got the better of me. I began to walk toward the man’s side. There wasn’t much distance between us, but my feet felt heavier with every step. My legs were unsteady, making the path to him long and drawn. I felt dizzy.

Overwhelmed by the strangeness of it all, it took all I had just to keep from toppling over to one side or the other. Even the slightest jolt would be enough to completely knock me out.

He eyed me through the strands of bloody bangs plastered to his face. “…Run.”

Now that I looked more closely, I saw that the blood-drenched victim was actually a young man around the same age as me. I wasn’t good at guessing the age of Caucasians, but he might even be younger than me. With his head dropped against his chin and his face covered in blood, it was hard to discern any distinguishing facial features. To top it all off, the room was fairly dark. Apparently, the only light bulb in the room was shattered across the floor, and it was evening outside. Thanks to that, I couldn’t see very well.

The same should have been true of the other boy. With all of the blood he’d lost from those severe injuries, he was probably barely hanging on to consciousness. I wouldn’t be surprised if he only vaguely sensed someone was standing in front of him.

For some reason, he desperately repeated that one word. “Run. Run. Run.”

Thanks to the translation collar around my neck, I was barely able to understand him as he said, “Run. Iris, he’s here to kill us.”

What could he mean by that…? But I was in no position to debate about the meaning of his words. The next moment, it felt as though something large wrapped itself around my body. And then it pulled me with great force. As it did, I briefly blacked out.

 

***

 

“███, ███! Are you okay? Please say something!”

Once again, my environment changed in the blink of an eye. I’d returned to Iris’s room without even knowing it. The stench of blood dissipated as I was embraced by a gentle, bittersweet fragrance.

“What happened? Can you explain in detail? First, let’s take some deep breaths!”

The sound of Iris’s voice calling out to me sounded awfully close. And little surprise there! Apparently, Iris was holding me tight against her chest. In an unfortunate turn of events, I was laying on top of her! My nose was buried in the cleavage of deceptively ample breasts left exposed by her pajamas.

This was bad! Sensing greater danger than when I was in the room drenched in blood, I slapped my hands on the floor and hastily put some distance between us. I slid on my butt all the way to the wall.

“…Are you okay?” Iris asked, an expression of genuine bewilderment on her face as she looked at me. She nonchalantly straightened her pajamas after noticing they were slightly disarrayed from our encounter and titled her head quizzically.

“The facts I observed are as follows: You just vanished from this room for the duration of a dozen to several dozen seconds. The photograph appeared to absorb you right before my eyes,” Iris explained, squatting down—who knows why—while twirling her finger in the air.

“I was so surprised, I walked over to identify the photograph that absorbed you. Whereupon I saw you moving around inside the photo,” Iris continued. Somewhat awkwardly, she said, “This is the one.” Pinched between her fingertips, she waved the abnormal photo of the blood-drenched room.

“Shocked, I tried touching the animated image of you in the photo. Although it appeared you were moving, there was a possibility my eyes were playing tricks on me. I wanted to verify things for certain. And despite me making it all sound intelligently planned, this was all done purely on impulse, not out of conscious thought.”

As if seeing something mystifying, she studied me intently and went on. “When I touched your image, you popped back out. Due to the difference in our physiques, you knocked me down, and, well…I believe you know the rest from there.”

The scene in the photo she indicated was identical to the blood-covered room I was in only moments ago. Did I truly go inside the photograph…? Was that even possible?

“I speculate that is what transpired, but I don’t understand the mechanics behind how. While this photograph is of great enough value and danger that it would prove problematic if discovered in my possession, it has never exhibited the ability to draw people inside,” she said.

Apparently, Iris didn’t care to touch the photograph a great deal. Deftly rising, she quickly flipped it upside down and left it on the desk for the time being.

“In which case, it would suggest that instead of the photograph being special, it is you who possesses the ability to travel between the photo-world and reality. When you were placed under initial observation, a similar phenomenon was noted.”

When I was placed under initial observation? I wonder if she meant when I first teleported to this research facility. Come to think of it, I felt a similar sense of something warm wrapping around my entire body or coiling around me back then, too.

“Hmmm, I’m afraid conjecture is all we have at this point in time,” Iris said. Folding her arms, she groaned, scowling. “Let’s ask a trustworthy researcher about this tomorrow. Although I possess personnel clearance, I am not much different from a regular civilian. You should seek assistance from a researcher well-versed in a relevant area of expertise. But it’s late now, so I’d like to go to sleep for tonight,” Iris finished with a dry smile.

The very next moment, a surprisingly loud round of applause pealed through the air like a firecracker.

“Wonderful!” a resounding young man’s voice boomed.

Iris and I practically jumped out of our skins as we turned to face the man. It was like he’d teleported in! He was a physically fit black man somewhere in his thirties. For some reason, he was wearing an outlandishly bright red polo shirt and black pants that glistened with sparkles. I probably shouldn’t let it bother me, since this was another country, but he was wearing leather shoes, right there in the bedroom! As if that wasn’t enough, his head was crowned with a top hat. In contrast to his otherwise gaudy fashion sense, he wore a crisp, white lab coat.

Who was this…? Although my head was reeling, Iris took one look at the man and spat out a rude “Geh!” Distaste for the man was written all over her face.

Seeing her reaction, he shut one eye, as if to say he would turn a blind eye to her. The man continued his applause until he was satisfied. Then he bowed elegantly with hat in hand.

“Sorry to intrude at this late hour! But rest assured, you need not stand on guard, for I am not an assassin! Nor am I an angel or demon! Let alone a magical girl or ninja!” Something must have struck his funny bone, for he burst into a fit of laughter.

“If any of those are more to your taste, I’ll change after I redo my big entry. So? How would you like me to look?” There must have been another glitch in the translation collar, because it emitted a strange noise when he said, “change.” Whatever he said probably meant something along those lines, but it was unable to translate it perfectly…I guess. Not that I was an expert on the device or anything.

 

***

 

“Dr. Bright,” Iris groaned in an exhausted voice, her thumb pressed against her forehead. “I thought you weren’t allowed to visit adolescent humans at night in their private rooms. In fact, weren’t you prohibited from interacting with adolescent humans at all, due to the bad influence you have on them?”

The term “adolescent humans” seemed like an awfully strange, roundabout way of putting it, but the English word I heard simultaneously issued from Iris was actually “teenagers.” It wasn’t a word generally used in Japanese to describe that age group.

At any rate, the strange researcher she referred to as Dr. Bright broke out into a broad smile, for some reason. “Oh, Iris! You’re as adorable as ever! Don’t tell me you not only believe ‘The Things Dr. Bright is Not Allowed to do at the Foundation’ is an official document recognized by the SCP Foundation, but also expect me to obediently adhere to the rules in that amusing joke of a list! You’re so cute!”

“At any rate, isn’t it unreasonable to barge into the private space of someone of the opposite gender without setting prior arrangements and receiving permission to enter first?”

“Aha ha ha! You could hold an exhibition displaying all of the unreasonable things collected here, so I’m quite intrigued by what precisely you deem ‘unreasonable!’ Do please explain it to me logically, so I can ignore it with the elegance of a true gentleman! I will boldly let it go in one ear and out the other…with style.”

“You ███!” Iris shouted ear-bleeding profanity at Dr. Bright, but it must have exceeded the capacity of the translation collar, for it didn’t convert the word into something I could understand.

After laughing for a while, Dr. Bright turned his attention to me. I was partially zoned out, pointedly steering clear of their conversation. But when his eyes fell upon me, I was struck by an indescribable cold chill. It was like a finger ran down my spine.

“…Look, I don’t know what brought you here, but I bet it’s nothing good. Could we resume this at another date?” Iris said, slipping protectively between me and Dr. Bright. “I am honestly extremely tired.”

“As you wish! Come, fly into my arms! I’ll cradle you to sleep, widdle Iris! My adorable Iris! Daddy will sing you a sweet lullaby!”

“You are not my father. Why, that was genuinely offensive. The next time you make any suggestions that we are related, I will use whatever physical or legal means necessary to completely obliterate your very existence,” Iris vehemently spat at Dr. Bright, while he held his arms wide open as if urging her to dive into his chest. Honestly, I was somewhat taken aback by her attitude.

Iris treated me well. She was an overall good person who came across as kind and straightforward. But she treated Dr. Bright on par with a pest caught in the house: with undiluted disgust.

“Okay, it looks like I went a bit too far. You’re so uptight, Iris!” Dr. Bright shrugged casually. “Which makes it all the more surprising you’ve dragged a boy you hardly know into your bedchambers! Do you merely come across as uptight, when you’re actually secretly one of those creatures so deliciously convenient to us men, commonly referred to as ███?!”

“Ah, if only I was permitted to use a gun.”

The two went on bantering back and forth. There was a lot of vocabulary that seemingly couldn’t be translated. Scenes like this frequently appeared in foreign comedies, but it was surprising to see people actually talk that way in real life. While it was hardly appropriate given the situation, I couldn’t help but feel astonished.

“Heh heh. I can’t have you shooting and killing me. It’s such a headache, how people seem to think they can kill me at the drop of a hat just because I’m essentially immortal. Where have my rights gone?” Dr. Bright jeered, “Will I find them if I go to the Lost Child Center?”

Never at a loss for words, Dr. Bright continued right on, throwing in some words I didn’t understand as he went. “Anyway, in order to sate my academic curiosity—what I’m saying is, it was necessary to my work as a researcher—I planted bugs throughout your room, Iris. Or should I call you SCP-105?”

Hearing this, Iris screamed in such a loud voice I thought she was trying to break the walls down. “Remove them right now! Right this instant!”

“…But all joking aside, it’s only natural for the Foundation—for this facility—to keep mystery boy SCP-105-C—tentative as that moniker may be—under observation. His background is currently unknown.” There was that weird title for me again. I definitely wasn’t used to it yet.

“I peeked in on you to get a grasp on the situation in here. Comprende? The other personnel are so obsessed with keeping things squeaky-clean, they blocked out their beloved Iris during the changing scene! So have no fear on that account. They really did, honest to God!” Dr. Bright wasn’t exactly doing much to inspire confidence.

His mouth kept right on flapping. “Anyway, I’ve formed a hypothesis regarding his existence. In order to prove it, I would like to conduct a variety of experiments—or to put it more softly, tests. As such, I want you to bring him to my lab first thing tomorrow morning! That was all I came here to say!” He turned before we had a chance to argue, making his lab coat flare (unnecessarily) out behind him.

“Of course, you’re free to reject my request, but I’d advise against it, myself. No matter how much you dislike me personally, there is no changing the fact that I am the greatest mind here in this facility—no, in the entire SCP Foundation!”

He spoke with an odd confidence, his grin so wide it seemed contrived.

“If you want to know the truth, feel free to ask me! I’ll thoroughly explain anything and everything, from ‘one plus one’ all the way to the simple question ‘Did the chicken come before the egg?’ From philosophical questions such as ‘Why are humans born?’ to the ins and outs of where babies come from! None other than moi, Dr. Bright, will shed light on all your questions!” He burst into a loud cackle as he opened the door, like any other human being, and walked right out. It felt as if a storm had just blown through.

 

***

 

After Dr. Bright left, Iris and I went straight to bed. Night broke, ushering us into the next morning. This didn’t turn into one of those scenarios where I wake up in the morning to sigh in relief at the discovery it was all just a dream. Instead, my eyes snapped open like usual and I had breakfast with Iris.

We ate in the canteen she took me to yesterday. It was fairly crowded with personnel coming in to eat breakfast, or on their way out, having just finished. If their curious stares and the way they were whispering about me behind my back were any indication, everyone here already knew about me. It was a bit unnerving.

This secret research facility supposedly located in the U.S.A. might as well have been another world, as far as I was concerned. The snippets of conversations I overheard went over my head more often than not. Their vocabulary was filled with technical terminology. So when one of the personnel-looking people in the canteen looked at me and said, “What’s a Class D doing in here?” I had no idea what to make of it.

After breakfast, Iris addressed that question while we were walking down corridors that seemed to extend forever. She said, “Detailed classifications are assigned to SCP Foundation personnel based on occupational duties. Three major titles you should know include field agent, researcher, and Class D personnel. There are also heavily armed soldiers, but we don’t interact much with them in our daily lives. We also have on-site security officers stationed here at all times.”

Although Iris seemed rather listless when she first awoke, eating breakfast must have gotten her blood sugar back up. The pep was back in her voice.

“As you can surmise from their name, field agents live undercover as normal people while they investigate anomalies related to SCP objects and report their findings to the Foundation. Researchers hole up in facilities such as this one and study the objects field agents find.”

Iris pulled up the ID card hanging from a lanyard around her neck to show me as she said, “I’m also technically classified as a researcher.”

Sure enough, “Iris Thompson/Researcher/Class 3B” was printed on the ID card. Printed in font even larger than her name, the characters “SCP-105” stood out far more than “Iris Thompson.”

“Class D personnel are, uh, gosh, they’re hard to explain. Honestly, their peculiar existence would generally be considered intolerable by most moral standards.” Iris awkwardly skirted around the explanation, so I still wasn’t exactly sure what they were.

Apparently having no intention of elaborating further, she hurried on, “You were knocked out immediately after you were found here yesterday and stripped of all your clothing. I suspect a researcher is inspecting them as we speak.”

Come to think of it, I’d been struck on the back of my head and knocked unconscious after I first teleported (?) to the research facility yesterday. Now that the pain was gone, I’d nearly forgotten all about that.

“We couldn’t leave you naked, so we changed you into a spare Class D uniform we had on hand. That’s why the low-clearance-level personnel not informed about you back at the canteen mistook you for Class D personnel.”

Pointing to my clothes, Iris said, “That is the Class D uniform right there.”

She was referring to the khaki workwear someone changed me into at some point yesterday. I could have sworn that back when I was at that prison-like place, the inmate-looking people I caught glimpses of were also wearing this… Apparently it was the standard uniform for these Class D folk.

Hardy and flexible, it was actually fairly comfortable. But not all that great for sleeping in. I’d taken off the workwear and slept in my underwear with the blanket over me last night.

“I put in a request, so I believe normal clothes should be delivered to my room shortly. You can change later! It isn’t wise to wear a Class D uniform more than necessary,” Iris said, enigmatically.

I wasn’t particularly picky about my clothing, so I was fine with staying in this.

“Moving right along! I wish with all my heart we could avoid turning to him, but you can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs. Do you have that idiom in Japan? I’m afraid we have no choice but to take Dr. Bright up on last night’s offer and go see him. We have to thoroughly investigate who and what you are.”

Iris led me through the facility’s nigh identical corridors, occasionally making a turn here or there without ever getting lost. I had no reason to argue and didn’t care to leave her side after she’d treated me so well, so I obediently tagged along. Iris’s presence served as a shining beacon of comfort in this confusing situation.

 

***

 

“Although Dr. Bright is an unpleasant individual who takes delight in pranks, he is overall brilliant and highly knowledgeable about SCP objects,” Iris explained, her voice dripping with distaste as she said his name.

“In general, researchers display great passion and interest in their field of study, and Dr. Bright is…no exception. Fortunately, you probably fall outside of his specialties, so you should be okay.”

I wondered what Dr. Bright’s specialties were. Our brief conversation last night wasn’t enough to offer insight on his true disposition, so it was hard to guess. Going by my superficial first impression, I didn’t even think he looked like a researcher. The sole aspect that hinted at his classification was the random lab coat, but even then, he came across more as a comedian than a researcher.

“He’s another difficult case to explain… Due to his strong connection with the SCP object known as ‘Immortality,’ Dr. Bright exists as something no longer quite human. Actually, he’s bound to tell you all about himself whether you—what’s this?” Iris cut her explanation short, her eyes growing big and round.

She suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, making me nearly crash into her. When I asked what was wrong, Iris unexpectedly dropped to her haunches.

“Wow! Lookie over there, ███. This is our lucky day. There is Bill,” she said.

Bill? Who was that? With questions like that running through my mind, I followed her line of sight. And boy, was I in for a surprise. A teddy bear was lying in the middle of the otherwise stoic corridor. It was an adorable stuffed bear. The fluffy fur looked so realistic, I thought it was an actual animal for a split second. But then when I looked closer, I saw it was just a teddy bear. What was a teddy bear doing out here? Did someone lose it?

“No, this is an SCP object. As I recall, it’s SCP-1048, Builder Bear. I like to call it ‘Bill’ for short,” Iris said, happily holding her hand out to the teddy bear apparently named Builder Bear.

As if by magic, that perfectly normal-looking stuffed animal, Builder Bear, suddenly moved. It deftly rose onto its round little legs and walked to Iris to snuggle up against her.

Did that stuffed animal just move?!

“Yes, as you can see, Builder Bear is a stuffed bear mysteriously able to move on its own. Manufactured from the same materials as a normal teddy bear, there are no mechanical parts inside. Yet for reasons unknown, it is able to move around as if it were alive,” Iris explained. She looked overjoyed as she rubbed her cheek against the stuffed animal.

“Since that is the extent of its anomalous existence, it is perfectly harmless. Deemed Object Class: Safe, it’s allowed to freely roam the facility. It’s studied as an SCP object since we don’t know why it moves, but we generally think of it as the SCP Foundation’s cute mascot.”

They even had a mascot? Well, I guess the SCP Foundation’s motto only specified that they “Secure, Contain, and Protect” anomalous entities that surpassed human comprehension. Not all of them would necessarily be dangerous monsters or harbingers of calamity. The mere sight of a girl happily hugging a stuffed animal melted my heart. It was a pleasant, peaceful interlude in the day.

“Oops, this is no time to get distracted. Let’s head on over to Dr. Bright’s lab… Bye-bye, Bill,” Iris said reluctantly as she gently placed Builder Bear on the ground.

Once its feet were firmly planted on the ground, Builder Bear slightly bent at the waist in a bow before waddling down the corridor. Was it really moving on its own, not via remote control? I could barely believe my own eyes. But if I stayed in this research facility, I bet this was just one of many similar encounters waiting for me. It made me realize anew that I was in a mind-boggling world above—or perhaps beyond—all comprehension.

“It’s so cute!” Iris squealed.

Iris watched Builder Bear hobble down the corridor until it disappeared around a corner. Bursting with energy from all the cuteness, she roughly began yanking my hand.

“Let’s hurry. We’re most of the way to Dr. Bright’s lab,” she urged.

I nodded and was about get moving, my hand still caught in hers…but a cold chill running down my spine made me spin around. That was when I noticed it. Although we thought it was long gone, Builder Bear was peeking its head around the corner. With those lifeless, black eyes, it was staring intently at us…like a carnivore hunting for prey.

“…Is something wrong?” Iris asked. She seemed confused as she followed my line of sight, but Builder Bear quickly ducked back around the corner before she did. Its head didn’t pop back out again.

When I fell silent, trying to find the right words to describe the intensely creepy sensation I’d just felt, Iris gave my hand a hearty tug.

“You should brace yourself. Dr. Bright is a bonafide prankster who takes delight in surprising people. I wouldn’t put it past him to have a bucket of ketchup ready to fall on us the moment we open the door,” Iris warned with a straight face.

Well, I guess we were currently occupied with Dr. Bright. I didn’t need to concern myself with Builder Bear. Having come to that conclusion, I quickly forgot all about the strange vibe I had felt.

 

***

 

Dr. Bright’s lab was a complete mess. It probably had either the same floor space as Iris’s room, or maybe even a little less, a row of computers claiming one of the walls. There was a workbench placed across from the computers with keyboards, test tubes, a brightly colored American comic, a confusing jumble of electronics, and a massive model collection in disarray.

The floor was also in horrible shape. There were countless stacks of magazines, and the trash can was overflowing with hamburger wrappers and crumbled documents. A familiar Japanese handheld game console and one of those toys that you spin around with your finger were carelessly strewn across the floor. Folded clothes were left out in piles.

I thought the sight seemed familiar, but then I realized it reminded me of the room of one my senior high buddies back in Japan who was an otaku. It didn’t resemble a lab by a long shot.

The room was designed so Dr. Bright didn’t have to leave when he needed his shuteye. Next to the entrance, there was a small door, which seemed to lead to a full bathroom. If the sound of the running water was any indication, Dr. Bright was in the middle of taking a shower. In fact, hazy steam was even spilling out of the room.

“How could he take a leisurely shower after making us come all the way over here?” Iris grumbled in annoyance, glancing at the narrow bed claiming a section of the room. There was an array of comics and junk there too, but she bound them in the comforter and shoved the whole lot off to the corner to clear space to sit down.

“It’s too much effort to come back later, so let’s wait here for him,” Iris said, slapping the spot next to her twice.

Catching her drift, I went to sit next to her. We were so close, our shoulders rubbed. It made me a bit nervous, but it couldn’t be helped. This was a cramped room! Not only was there nowhere else to sit, there was hardly any room to walk.

Hardly talking, we were stuck twiddling our thumbs. After a while, the shower shut off. I couldn’t help but hear the rustling of someone drying off with a towel. And then the bathroom door burst open.

“Sorry for the wait! I thought I heard something, but did you honestly come first thing in the morning, Iris?” The voice struck me as odd. It was a woman’s voice, but the manner of speech sounded just like Dr. Bright.

My head snapped toward the bathroom in surprise, just as the owner of the voice jumped out the door. It was a woman, not Dr. Bright, randomly talking in a high-pitched voice. A beautiful woman in her prime. Sensuality wafted from her shapely body. I had no idea what country she was from, but her black hair was long and lustrous while her eyes were as crimson as if she sucked blood.

To top it all off, she was practically naked, wearing nothing but the towel wrapped around her. Probably due to just hopping out of the shower, her slightly flushed limbs were still damp—I froze like a deer in the headlights. Noticing my reaction, the mysterious beauty enjoyed screaming, as if on cue, “Eek! You’re such a pervert, big bro!”

…Say what? While I was left too stunned to react, the mysterious beauty blinked in confusion several times.

“Huh? What’s this? I didn’t get much of a rise out of you! I guess the expressions in anime and manga are exaggerated, after all. Well, it is biologically programmed in humans to freeze upon suddenly encountering the unexpected! It’s not all that often that ‘truth is stranger than fiction!’”

“…Dr. Bright,” Iris snapped, sounding completely exasperated. “What purpose does this serve?”

“A philosophical question! I can’t answer that, since I am a scientific researcher, not a philosopher. But if I were to answer nonetheless, well, it’s my usual fun and games.”

The mysterious beauty laughed heartily, flapping her hands in the air before returning to the bathroom. Back up! Didn’t Iris just call her Dr. Bright? I could have sworn Dr. Bright looked like a completely different person when I met him last night. Their gender and race were totally different. What was going on here…?

 

***

 

A bit later, the mysterious beauty referred to as Dr. Bright reappeared after taking her(?) time getting dressed. They shared the same fashion sense as the black Dr. Bright I met last night. For some odd reason, they were garbed in an ostentatious bright red dress, as if about to depart for a ball. The bra strap intentionally slipped over the tip of one shoulder was a rich black. This strange beauty clad in the black and red color scheme grabbed a folding chair that was set off to the side, unfolded it, and sat crassly with their legs spread wide open. Then they smiled elegantly at Iris and me as we sat huddled cozily together on the bed.

“I didn’t give you a proper introduction yesterday, so I might as well start over with my name,” the mysterious beauty began—soon proving that the only feminine thing about them was their appearance. “The SCP Foundation has the immense honor of employing me, Dr. Jack Bright, the greatest mind in all the world! Feel free to simply call me Jack, uh… ███, was it?”

Even though I didn’t recall sharing my name, they somehow knew what it was. It went to show that the Foundation was taking measures to keep an “unidentified” person such as myself under observation without my noticing. In which case, this mysterious beauty who called herself—himself(?)—Dr. Jack Bright was cleared to view the data collected on me through such means.

“Hmmm. I expected Iris to go over this beforehand, but my existence is somewhat unique. I can copy my personality onto other people. But that doesn’t really paint much of a picture for you, does it?”

Dr. Bright (or so I’d decided to call him…her?) picked up a handheld game console on the floor and popped out the cartridge with the ease of familiarity.

“Let’s say this cartridge is the personality belonging to me, Dr. Bright. Couldn’t you insert the cartridge in any of these handheld game consoles scattered across the world and play the same game? It’s the same concept,” Dr. Bright explained.

I wondered what exactly that meant. But at least I got the general gist of what Dr. Bright was saying.

“That is what has happened to me, due to the unique characteristics of SCP-963, Immortality. If you get that general concept, you’re good,” Dr. Bright said, before leaning forward to emphasize all that cleavage.

“I thought you would appreciate feasting your eyes on this beauty rather than that Class D brute while we talked. I did this with you in mind, so you’re welcome to show some appreciation! I mean, aren’t you Japanese into this sort of thing? What do you call it again, moe? Anyway, that! Aha ha ha!” The longer Dr. Bright prattled on about irrelevant garbage, the more they got under my skin.

“I actually would have preferred a cuter little girl, but I have the damndest time getting permission to possess young children! If only I’d had the chance to possess a wider variety of ethnicities, ages, and nationalities before the Foundation came to fully understand my unique characteristics!”

“…Dr. Bright, I’m sick of listening to your drivel. Can you move on to the main agenda?” Iris sounded more than a little annoyed as she put an end to Dr. Bright’s tirade, one that would undoubtedly have continued on forever if left alone. “We didn’t come all the way here to have a fun chat. If you expect people to call you ‘Doctor,’ please live up to the title.”

“Of course, I am well aware of what the job entails. I’m sure you still have plenty of questions, but I’ll have to tell you more about myself in detail at another date and time…under the covers! Aha ha ha ha!”

In retribution for all of Dr. Bright’s inappropriate comments, Iris grabbed a slipper off the ground and chucked it at the beauty. Upon elegantly dodging the slipper, Dr. Bright made a show of sensually crossing their legs.

“Anyway, no one at the Foundation foresaw the existence of SCP-105-C—that’s you, ███—and hence, our research has only just begun. I don’t possess all of the answers myself, so I would like to conduct each test with the utmost caution and care as we uncover your true nature,” Dr. Bright declared.

“That is actually something I would appreciate,” Iris reluctantly agreed, nodding. “So long as you promise not to dissect him or subject him to dangerous experiments, I would be willing to offer my cooperation. I’m afraid the two of us don’t have what it takes to find the answers on our own.”

I was of a similar mind. I was completely ignorant as to how or why I wound up in this American research site. Although I was worried about leaving my fate in the hands of this mad scientist, if Dr. Bright could give me the answers to my questions, I had no qualms about helping.

“Uh-huh. If possible, personally, I’d love to conduct amusing tests until I’ve gotten them all out of my system, but each and every SCP object is invaluable—truly one of a kind! I have absolutely no intention of ruining one in violent experimentation,” Dr. Bright proclaimed.

A rather serious expression washed over Dr. Bright’s face as they looked at me with an intellectual gleam in their eyes. They continued, “If you two are willing to offer your assistance, I’ll make headway by leaps and bounds. Now that I’ve established communication with my test subjects, I can proceed with this case with greater peace of mind than the majority of SCP objects, seeing as I won’t have to constantly fear for my life.”

The strange researcher licked their lips before saying passionately, “So where should we begin?”

 

***

 

After that, Iris and I gave a detailed report of all of our experiences leading up to that moment. Dr. Bright occasionally interjected with a question, but methodically typed away at the PC without interrupting us for the most part. I guess they were compiling an interview log or writing a report. It was far more tedious and lackluster than I’d imagined… I’d been bracing myself for some sort of extreme test.

“Fascinating!” Dr. Bright declared once we finished giving our reports, eyes shining like a child. “Heh heh! We’ve gleaned essentially all there is to know regarding SCP-105, Iris, so the Foundation deemed it unlikely we would discover new elements regarding her. I’m thrilled to see you’ve given us yet another new mystery!”

“That wasn’t my intent,” Iris groaned, sounding genuinely annoyed. “And why are we being treated as a set? What is the relationship between ███ and me? Even if it’s just a hypothesis, could you tell me why?”

“Sure. He—███—is considered a new anomaly generated by the SCP object known as SCP-105, ‘Iris.’ At least, that’s what the higher-ups have decided for the time being. That’s why he is tentatively named SCP-105-C,” Dr. Bright explained, before taking a short pause and turning to Iris. “How much have you told him about your own unique trait?”

“Hardly anything… There wasn’t any time yesterday. And today we woke up, got dressed, ate breakfast, and came straight here. I never had the chance to tell him,” Iris explained apologetically.

In all honesty, I currently saw Iris as just a straightforward girl who treated me warmly. As of yet, nothing about her came across as an anomalous SCP object.

“I see. But if we’re going to collaborate on this investigation and research henceforth, we should make learning that a prerequisite instead of leaving him in the dark. As I said before, the two of you are contextually viewed as the same anomalous phenomena… Would you like me to provide a brief explanation?”

Dr. Bright motioned to Iris with the palm of their hand as they said, “She—Iris Thompson—is an ESPer, in a sense. Science cannot begin to explain her paranormal abilities.”

Really? When I shot Iris a sidelong glance, she nodded her head.

“It would be much quicker if I could actually show you… But I’m not supposed to use my powers very much. So I don’t have SCP-105-B, which is necessary to activate my powers, or any of the photos taken with it on hand,” Iris said.

“Couldn’t you activate your powers to a certain extent with a normal photo?” Dr. Bright asked.

“It’s not impossible, but it doesn’t always work. It really needs to be my camera and a photo taken with it.”

Their exchange went right over my head, but Dr. Bright nodded. “I thought that might be the case, so I took the liberty of removing SCP-105-B from its safety deposit box beforehand.”

With the childish grin of someone who’d just pulled off a little prank, Dr. Bright slipped their hand under the bed and pulled out an attaché case. It popped open with surprising ease. Nestled inside was none other than the ancient camera Iris was always holding when I saw her as the Girl in the Photos.

“Ah, my camera!” Iris exclaimed, eyes bulging. She effortlessly pulled the camera out of the case and cradled it. Apparently that camera meant a great deal to her. She touched it with loving care.

“Heh heh! I explained that it was necessary for testing and filled out the paperwork to formally retrieve it. I received permission without a hitch. To be fair, you never stir up any trouble and this camera isn’t particularly dangerous. The fact that I was the one retrieving it was actually considered more of a cause for concern,” Dr. Bright explained, looking touched as they watched Iris.

“As you can see, SCP-105-B is a perfectly normal camera. It’s a Polaroid OneStep 600 camera that was manufactured in 1982, although I doubt that means anything to you. It does not appear to have any out-of-the ordinary physical characteristics and appears to be, for all intents and purposes, a normal Polaroid camera, operating normally for all persons aside from Iris.”

Sure enough, nothing about that camera stood out as abnormal. As a modern-day man accustomed to taking pictures with my smart phone, it was full of rustic charm, but I probably would have felt that way about any antique.

 

***

 

“Iris, why don’t you try your powers on something?”

“Oh, okay… I’ll just take a quick snapshot.”

At Dr. Bright’s suggestion, Iris rose and moved about the room, eyeing it like a highly experienced cameraman, before taking a quick picture. The flash went off, its blinding light making me close my eyes for a second. Since it was a Polaroid camera, it popped out a picture that quickly developed.

Apparently, Iris took a picture of a model on Dr. Bright’s workbench. It was a masterfully sculpted monster. Not just me, but anyone from Japan would be able to recognize the character of this model: Godzilla. For just a quick snapshot, the tremendous impact of the photo suggested that Iris’s camera work was phenomenal. Nevertheless, it was just a photo. There was nothing peculiar about it.

“Please watch this photo carefully,” Iris said, showing the picture to me as she returned to her spot on the bed.

“Allow me to lend a hand,” Dr. Bright offered, stood up, and walked over to the real Godzilla model. Then they waved their hand in the air. “Can you see me?”

I was blown away! In the photo, Dr. Bright’s hand was traveling by the image of Godzilla. They started horsing around, jumping across the photo and making goofy faces.

“Now do you see? In Iris’s hands, the photograph changes from a still image to real-time video,” Dr. Bright explained.

I had to admit, the photo in Iris’s hands looked less like a photograph and more like a small screen displaying a video. The images in the photo were actually moving! That was all there was to it, but that alone was mysterious enough.

“I can also reach through the photograph and manipulate objects within reach of the original point at which the photograph was taken…like this,” Iris said.

When she pressed her hand against the surface of the photo, something peculiar happened. A black hole—or something that looked like one—opened up next to the Godzilla model she photographed. From the black hole, out came what appeared to be Iris’s hand. With the tip of one finger, she flicked the model over.

“Ah, how could you?! That’s the extremely rare Godzilla vs. Biollante edition!” Dr. Bright cried hysterically, but Iris ignored the researcher and smiled at me.

“It might be a bit confusing, but these are my powers. They come in pretty handy. Distance has no influence on them, so even after we leave this room…even if we went to the other side of the planet, I could still manipulate the contents of this room through the photo,” Iris explained.

She turned to shoot Dr. Bright a triumphant grin, threatening, “I can move everything within reach of the original location of the photo. If you do anything unsavory or try tricking us into any weird tests, I will crush your beloved models one at a time, Dr. Bright.”

“You wouldn’t! You’re a monster! A child conceived by a ███ murderer who ███ a swine!” Dr. Bright roared. Either the translation collar was having trouble with the crass vocabulary or it couldn’t understand what the words meant, but I could tell they were dissing Iris.

“Ugh! I need to move anything that would prove problematic if broken outside of Iris’s range—out of her reach,” Dr. Bright exclaimed with teary eyes, running every which way, a bundle of models lovingly cradled in their arms.

As Iris happily watched that go down (I was a little freaked out from catching a glimpse of her scary side…), she returned to the topic at hand. “███, you were appearing in all of the photographs I took of late with SCP-105-B—this camera—for experimental purposes.”

With the topic turned to me, I straightened my back and gave her my full attention.

“I swear, I do not remember seeing you when I took the pictures. Nevertheless, you always appeared in them without fail… In order to pursue the truth behind the mystery of that strange phenomenon, I followed the instructions of the researcher with me and touched you.”

Iris pushed on, informing me that all happened yesterday.

“When I did, I somehow pulled you out of the photo… Although I can manipulate things I touch in the pictures, I have never been able to pull something out. Ever. It’s unprecedented…and we don’t know what to make of it.”

 

***

 

“Our current objective is to investigate the mechanism behind how this works,” Dr. Bright chimed, joining the conversation now that they were done moving all of the models to a corner of the room.

“You only appeared in photos taken by Iris. Furthermore, she was able to pull you out of the photograph when utilizing her ability to manipulate the photo-world. Taking these facts into consideration, you were tentatively named SCP-105-C as an anomaly related to SCP-105.”

Upon returning to the folding chair, Dr. Bright studied me, a passionate gleam in their eyes as they continued, “I wonder what you are…? For the record, after you were knocked out, we checked your clothes, personal possessions, and every inch of your body. We even took blood and DNA samples for testing, but all of the results so far claim that you are a normal human.”

Yeah, no surprise there. The thought that they took my blood for analysis while I was out cold was terrifying, but I was a perfectly normal human. Nothing strange had ever come up in any of the school physicals. I was just like any other normal high school boy out there.

“And as a fascinating case in point…didn’t you enter a photo last night?”

We told Dr. Bright about that incident when giving our detailed reports earlier. Last night, the moment I casually touched a photo that was turned over, I got zapped to that blood-drenched room. Then a man covered in blood, breathing his last breaths, talked to me. Ingrained deep in my brain, I could still hear his voice: “Run. Run. Run. Iris, he’s here to kill us.”

Who was that man? How did he know Iris’s name…? Why was he so grievously injured?

“Just to make sure, was this the man covered in blood?” Dr. Bright placed a laptop on their lap and fiddled with it for a moment before turning the screen to face me. It displayed a large portrait of some man’s face.

I wasn’t sure why, but Iris’s face crumbled in sadness at the sight of it. Although I was curious, I turned back to the screen and nodded. I didn’t get a clear look at the man’s face since his head was lowered and his visage was covered in blood, but it was probably the same person. The eyes, nose, and mouth were all the same. I wasn’t very good at telling foreigners apart, but no matter how much I wanted to, I would never be able to forget what I saw in that bloody room… I could say with fairly strong confidence it was the same person.

“I thought so,” Dr. Bright said, twisting their lips as they nodded knowingly. “Information regarding him is classified, so I can’t divulge his name, but he was someone Iris knew. Several years ago, a terrifying SCP object murdered him.”

I see… So he passed away. I wasn’t surprised. It was obvious just by looking at the man that his injuries were fatal. But hold up; he was killed several years ago? Didn’t he just talk to me last night…?

“That was a photo of the crime scene. Or to be more precise, the camera was at the scene of the murder and happened to catch the final moments when it was knocked or dropped to the ground. In other words, there was a chance he was still alive when the picture was taken,” Dr. Bright said excitedly, teeth showing in a too-wide grin.

“This could be the last picture taken of him still alive. After intense pleading and dogged negotiations, Iris made several concessions in exchange for keeping it on display in her room.”

“……”

Iris was struck speechless. It felt as if she were on the verge of tears—my heart went out to her. Honestly, I thought that photo was too grotesque to keep on display in her room. And in fact, she constantly kept it flipped over, as if she herself didn’t want to see it… If she went to such lengths to obtain a photo she didn’t even want to look at, it was safe to assume that guy meant a great deal to Iris.

“Yes, yes…! I think I’m beginning to understand. The synapses in my gray matter are on fire again today,” Dr. Bright declared with a satisfied nod, before pulling a photo from the pocket of their lab coat. “I should know for sure if we conduct a little experiment. That having been said, ███, would you be so kind as to touch this photo for a second?”

Iris seemed a bit rattled at the moment and I was busy worrying about her. Distracted, I did as asked without thinking. Dr. Bright probably had this whole conversation scripted out beforehand, probing us along with this goal in mind. I fell right into that mad scientist’s hands—and touched the photo.

Iris noticed before I did it. She cried out: “Don’t!”

She tried to warn me, but it was too late.

I briefly blacked out, and my surroundings changed.