"I hope nobody else is on this line, sir."
"I assure you, it's just me."
"Remember that one former personnel who was..turned into some kind of anomaly?"
"The one in the mask?"
"He was blown up. We have his remains to prove it."
"Sir - I believe it was all a setup."
"His name was Malfrous, sir. And we think -"
"You really do think -"
"Dr. Malfrous is alive."
The welcome back party was the closest thing Malfrous had that warmed his little heart. A good pat on the back and a good glass of alcohol was enough to feel him back at home. Half the personnel at Site 95 came to their little party in the cafeteria. Food was passed around and stories were told of Malfrous, bringing good knee-slapping laughs to all personnel who dared listened.
“A nice party you have here, Drago.” Malfrous said, serving Drago a cup of vodka. "No wait- " Drago said, stopping Malfrous. "This is your party, I'll serve myself.. Uh, go enjoy yourself. Colms is waiting for you if he's not deciding whether to play the piano or not." Malfrous nodded with a slight smile under his mask and approached Colms. "Uh, Colms...?" Malfrous whispered. "May I ask - what. The. Fuck. Is. Up. With. That. Hair?" "So much for a happy welcoming." Colms said. "I have personally chosen to paint my hair pink!" For what, a charity?" "No." Colms said flatly. "Anyway - mind explaining why you tried to kill everyone last Halloween?" He asked. Malfrous glanced at Colms. "The fuck?" Malfrous said. Colms looked at the puzzled Malfrous, squinting. "Huh. Never mind, then."
Drago slid by their table, looking a bit dizzy. "That was a nice vodka, wasn't it?" Malfrous asked with a smile. Drago toppled to the floor, laughing like hell. "Ooooh, floor, go easy on me pleease!" Drago began to squirm on the floor making those weird grunting sounds. "Huh, some nice memories we had with drinking." Malfrous said, glancing at Colms. "Tell me - what did I miss when I was...uh...dead and all?" Colms sighed. "Nothing much... Except that Woods and Hudson died." He said flatly, as if it was nothing. Malfrous slammed his fist against the table. "Shit." He muttered. "Who did it?" He asked through clenched teeth. "Scruffy." Colms said, sipping at a can of coke. Malfrous looked like he was about to burst, but calmed down. He sighed. "We're in the Foundation, after all. We can't live forever... You can only die twice." Malfrous said with a weak laugh.
Drago got up from the floor and took a seat. "Whooo...some party, huh guys?" Drago said, still looking a bit tipsy. He began to giggle a bit, flirting at a girl across the table. "Yeah." Malfrous said. "Some party it is."
"Offense units in place, sir." Said a man in a ski mask as three men in suits with pistols began to mow down MTF units in the Site 95 control room. A tall man with a white Comedy mask in a suit walked in the control room, snarling. "Excellent... Activate the attack order when ready." The Comedy-mask man said. "Yes, Commander Comedy." The man in the ski mask clicked on a few buttons on a small device and talked into it. "All units, carry out Order 38." Comedy smiled as many voices said 'Yes, sir.' back through the device.
"The masked man will pay for this - he will not survive a third death." Comedy said, laughing as he finished off an SCP personnel crawling on the floor with a pistol.
Suddenly, Drago took a glass and bamned it across his fork. "Atteeention... I'd like to maake a tooast! Tooo Docturr Mallfowus...!" He said, nearly toppling over. The crowd laughed and cheered. "To Doctor Malfrous!"
Suddenly, gunfire rang out.
Screams filled the room.
An explosion sent a table and party-goers flying. "The hell, Drago? What kind of a joke is this?!" Malfrous shouted over the gunfire, ducking for cover by the icecream machine. Drago followed him, snapping out of his drunkenness. "This wasn't part of the party...." He said.
Another explosion erupted nearby, cracking the bridge above in half. A chunk of the bridge toppled onto a crowd of scared personnel, crunching them upon landing. The people on top of the bridge fell over into the pile of rubble, joining the pile of corpses.
Suddenly, a man in a black suit with a ski mask slowly approached Malfrous with an AK-47. Malfrous jumped up from the ice cream machine and lunged at him. The man struck Malfrous across the mask with his weapon with great force, causing him to fall, unconscious.
Drago woke up in a cafeteria, left in ruin as if it were in a battlefield. Colms laid nearby, a large block of brick laying on top of his legs, groaning. Blood spilled from his injured legs as he moaned for Drago to help. Drago jumped up, nearly tripping on a female corpse. "Colms, the hell happ-" "Explosion - chunk of bridge flew at me - I think- I think I broke my legs..." Drago shouted as loud as he could. "HELLO?! I NEED MEDICAL HELP!" He shouted into the radio. Static. All lines were down. The Site was evacuated - or worse.
"Greetings, masked one." Said a gravely voice. "Long time no see." Malfrous grunted as a beam of light struck his eyes. Where was he? The light died down, allowing him to study the room. In front of him was a suited man with a Comedy mask, leaning over Malfrous, who was tied to a chair. The room had white walls and white tiled flooring, and four men with large guns stood at each of the four corners, the door being guarded by a man in a suit and a 'Phantom of the Opera' mask, a dark hood shielding his face in darkness. The man in the Phantom mask hummed to himself.
The one in the Comedy mask approached Malfrous with a small device that whirred softly.
Paper faces on parade...
The one in the Phantom mask watched as Comedy held the device to Malfrous' head.
Hide your face,
A man in a suit and a dark hood approached Malfrous and teared off his mask. Malfrous yelled as Comedy held it deeper into his head, electrifying Malfrous with terrible amounts of volts.
So the world will never find you.
"Now, masked one." Muttered Comedy as the Phantom masked man stopped humming. "You will tell us everything you know about the Foundation's plans - and if you do not -"
Two suited men walked from the corners and held similar electrifying devices to Malfrous' head.
"You will die at the hands of electricity."
Drago heaved the chunk of bridge off of Colms only barely, and helped Colms to his feet, allowing him to rest on his shoulder. "Colms, everyone's dead. We can't get help - I - I think I can help you get outta here." Drago wheezed and sputtered as he dragged Colms toward the cafeteria stairs. He stared at the bridge at the top of the stairs, cut in half. "That's the only way toward Gate A," He said, looking at the doorway at the other side of the broken bridge. The gap was about 6 feet long, and it seemed impossible to jump over - espicially with a wounded Colms on his shoulder. "Colms, we have to jump." Drago said. "Impossible..." Colms muttered, wiping blood from his nose. "Or -y'know - we can just rot here forever as an option." Drago said with a frown. Colms sighed. "Do it...." Suddenly, footsteps came from behind them. Standing at the doorway behind them was a man with a Tragedy mask with a suit on, and two other men with ski-masks on, wielding shotguns. "God no - it can't be him." Drago muttered as he glanced behind him. "God yes - it can be me..." Tragedy mocked, pointing at Drago. "Kill him." He said. The two men in ski-masks charged, shotguns in hand. Without thinking, Drago made a run for the gap, and heaved himself over the hole. Drago screamed as he landed at the other side of the bridge on his two feet, miracoulusly.
Colms nearly passed out as Drago continued to run, the men in sk-masks coming to a stop by the gap. They cussed as they backed off, unable to even try to jump. Tragedy punched a shotgun out of one of their hands and killed them both. "Shoot, damnit!" Tragedy yelled as the two men in ski-masks fell to their deaths. Tragedy aimed the shotgun at Drago and Colms and began to fire.
Drago closed the door behind him as he passed the doorway, blocking all the bullets from hitting him. He sighed of relief, tired. But he could not stop now. He continued running down the halls, passing SCP personnel corpses and dead men in ski-masks.
"Speak!" Comedy yelled as the men in ski masks constantly electrified Malfrous.
"I don't know what the Foundation will do -"
Another shock. Malfrous yelled.
"But know this -"
"You're all fucked..." He groaned.
Comedy sighed. "Enough. He won't speak. If mere volts cannot make him talk,"
Comedy walked towards the exit door of the room. "Bullets will." Comedy snapped his fingers. The men in the corners untied Malfrous and forced him off his chair. They dragged him to the exit. The man in the Phantom mask whispered to Comedy as he passed by. Comedy nodded then gestured for them to bring Malfrous. "Where....?" Malfrous groaned. Comedy smiled under his mask and led him to another dark room.
He found himself in a dark lit room, much like the last, only that he was sitting in front of a table - a table with a large gattling gun on it, aimed at Malfrous. He was again chained to his chair, and Comedy was nowhere in sight. A man in a suit with a scarred face sat across from him, hands on the trigger of the large gun.
"You must be Dr. Malfrous. Of the SCP Foundation." Muttered the man, frowning.
"Where am I?" Malfrous asked with an angered tone. "You are nowhere."
"Who are you?" He asked again. "I am nobody." The suited man replied.
"Answer me no-" Malfrous was cut off in mid sentence. "I am the one asking questions here, masked one. Not you." The scarred man said, loading bullets into the gun. "You are going to tell me all the SCP Foundations facility's locations." He said.
"I'll never tell you... You have no idea what you're messing with..." Malfrous growled.
"Do not threaten me, Samuel. I am the one with the gun, you are the one without one." The suited man laughed.
"No, good sir... You brought me mine." Malfrous kicked the table upwards, sending the gattling gun flying in the air. The gattling gun fired multiple rounds by itself. Malfrous jumped up, taking his chair with him. The bullets peirced the chains connecting him to his chair, and Malfrous was free. He landed onto the table and kicked the gattling gun to the right, so it would point towards the man in the suit. "Holy shit.." He said, as Malfrous mercilessly fired at him - blood spraying against the opposing wall. Malfrous grabbed his mask from the table and jumped from the chair.
"There are no strings on me!" Malfrous ran toward the exit door and slammed it open, yelling in anger.
Drago found himself in the medical area, laying Colms onto a bed. "Where the hell is Bush when you need him?" Drago grumbled. Colms muttered, "Bush... for..President..Bush..for..." Drago put a hand over Colms mouth. "Shut the hell up, crossdresser." Drago took out a walkie talkie. "Hello? Anyone there? Medical help, needed, ASAP." Drago sighed. Colms continued to groan. Then, a knock on the door. "Hello? Doctor Ramsey - medical nurse.""Thank God!" Drago shouted and opened the door. Upon opening it, he saw a man in a ski mask, with a suit. "Have you scheduled an appointment?" The man said beneath the mask and hooked Drago across the face, sending him flying to a wall, crashing, and falling unconscious. Colms jumped from his bed, followed by the crunching of his back, and the VII Agent spun around pulling a pistol from his pocket. Colms pulled out his revolver, and shot first - the bullet peircing the agent's chest. The agent fell like a ragdoll ontop of Drago. "Now its time I do my part..." Colms said, lifting Drago on his shoulder. Colms yelled in pain as the weight of Drago weighed him down. "Not good.. not good.." Colms mumbled, and slowly walked out of the medical area.
Malfrous ran into a poster on the wall of the hallway.
"What the -" Malfrous said, only to be cut off by a, "I HAVE YOU NOW!" Malfrous glanced over his shoulder, only to see a group of three VII agents with their skimasks on, wielding knives and machetes, charging from the other side of the hallway.
Malfrous stood his ground, pulling Old Reliable from his pocket. Then, he charged forth, slicing at one man's neck, spinning around to stab another in the back, and jumped to avoid an incoming swipe of a blade from the third. Upon landing, he threw his knife at the back of the remaining agents skull, followed by a thud. Malfrous turned back only to see the corpses of all three agents, and took Old Reliable from the skull of the agent. Then, alarms began to blare. He knew more men were coming. Malfrous made a run for it in a random direction and prayed for the best.
Colms found himself at Gate A, barely escaping nearby VII agents. With Drago weighing him down, he limped towards the elevator, traveling back up to the surface.
Colms beamed. "Hey, Drago, wake up! We're fr-"
"There they are!" A voice said. "Shoot 'em!" Colms looked up only to see men in dark suits, standing in front of the exit. One of them fired, missing terribly over Colm's shoulder. Suddenly, Drago's head jerked up in fright. "Wuh - mum, I swear, I wusn't druunk, t'day, I swurr....' Suddenly, his eyes widened as he saw the VII troops. "Ah, shit! Run!" Drago said, jumping off Colms shoulder and running for cover. Colms followed him, running towards the exit. The VII agents fired like hell, hitting Drago in the leg. "Aack!" Drago screamed, nearly tripping, but, he caught himself and marched on. Colms pulled out his revolver and fired at them, bringing down atleast one. The other four reloaded desperately. Drago charged at one of them, tackling him down as Colms kept on firing. The three fell to the floor, while Drago wrestled the last one. Finally, Drago socked the last one square in the nose, knocking him out.
"Well, that was fun." Colms said, slipping his revolver back into his pocket. "C'mon, lets go." Drago said, strolling over to the gate. "Wait -" Colms said, stopping Drago. "Where's Malfrous?"
Malfrous found himself at a catwalk over a pool of lava. The walls were entirely of stone.
He looked toward the end of the catwalk, though covered with smoke, Malfrous could make up a dark, tall figure.
"Malfrous." The voice growled.
"Comedy." Malfrous yelled, recognizing the gravel-like voice.
"When I first found you, I underestimated you. You had bested me." Comedy said, still wrapped in a cloud of smoke.
"None of that will ever change, Comedy. I'm going to rip you apart - and nothing will bring you back from the dead again." Malfrous held Reliable high.
"You and I, Malfrous, we are so alike. I was once blind like you. That was until I saw the damage and destruction the Foundation has brought upon this world."
"Comedy, I know what's under that mask now. You are my old friend. I know Mark Cain is still under that metal armor you call a body. I know my best friend is still under that suit. Come back with me, please. We can end all this, you can leave Palk right now - walk away. Once Palk has what he wants- our SCPs- he isn't going to destroy them. He's going to use them for himself. He's going to use them to bend the world to his will."
"That's not true!" Comedy yelled. The smoke began to fade. Comedy's white mask shone under the reflection of the lava like the sun. "They've lied to you, Sam. Join me. Together, we can save this world. Together, we will be worshipped by all! We will be gods!"
"Then it is true - maybe Mark really did die in that containment breach." Malfrous looked down at the lava. "Maybe my friend really did burn in Hell, only to be reborn as....as Comedy."
Comedy yelled, so loud, it echoed wildly and bounced off the stone walls.
"Here, in the Anomaly Boiling Sector, it is here you will burn as I did. It is here I will watch you become one with the lava, and leave you for dead as you left me in Site 31, all those years ago where you left me to die." Comedy said, taking off his black leather gloves. He had no hands, only metal claws with long, blood-stained steel tips.
They lunged at eachother, claws outstretched and knives raised. Malfrous swung at Comedy, but Comedy grabbed the tip before it could stab at its chest. Comedy ripped it from Malfrous' grasp, and raised his arm to throw it into the lava. Malfrous tackled him before he could do so, and socked Comedy in the face, only to bring his arm back in pain. "ACK!" Malfrous yelled and backed away. Metal. That's what he felt when he sent the punch - only metal. Comedy jumped up and swung the knife at Malfrous. Defenseless, Malfrous kept on jumping back as Comedy kept on swinging. Malfrous ducked to avoid one last swing, and punched Comedy in the gut, and fortunately, it was not metal he had hit, flesh. Comedy dropped the knife as Malfrous kicked him in the gut once more, sending him falling back on the catwalk. Malfrous raised his knife and pried it between the mask and his metallic face, and swung the mask off.
Malfrous kicked Comedy in the gut, sending Comedy falling to the ground on his knees.
Comedy looked up slowly, only to reveal the face of a demon. His features were unrecognizable, all covered in blood, all scrunched up together. He had no nose, as it was torn off. Metallic bodyparts took place of what was there no longer.
It was once the face of an innocent, confused child, Mark Cain. But that was different now. He was Comedy, scarred for life, driven by only anger and hate.
Malfrous raised his knife, ready to destroy an old enemy, ready to cripple the Seventh Squad forever.
But he didn't. Malfrous stood, unable to do anything. Comedy, shocked, looked up at Malfrous. Comedy should have been dead.
"Mercy." Malfrous muttered. "Why...would I show mercy to you?" Malfrous said, looking down at his feet. "Funny..it's almost..bad comedy."
Comedy coughed and weezed, his voice unaltered by the processors in his mask. His voice was gravelly, almost like a man who had smoked for a thousand years.
"Leave me." Comedy growled. "Please...do not witness me as this...The only exit..." Cough. "Is behind that gate..." Violent coughing, turning into choking. Comedy barely pointed to the gate which was earlier covered by smoke. "Go...!" Comedy yelled, crawling towards his mask and slid it on, desperately. Malfrous could have sworn Comedy looked afraid. Afraid of what Palk would do to him when he found out Malfrous had escaped.
Malfrous approached the gate, sliding open. Malfrous saw an elevator.
As Malfrous entered and he turned around to look for Comedy, he found nothing.
Comedy was gone.
Drago and Colms found themselves at a large gate. The exit to the outside world. Freedom. No VII guards. Where have they all gone? It was if they had all rushed home in an instant. But why? "Drago." Colms said. "We're free." Drago looked up and got to his feet. Drago laughed, and smiled. "Yes!" He yelled. "FINALLY!" Even Colms began to rejoice. The gate slid open, and the bright light of the outside world blinded them. Just as they were to make a break for home, they stopped. They saw a figure out of the light, limping towards them. Malfrous. His mask torn and his shirt stained in blood. "My god." Drago said. "Malfrous, the hell happened to you?"
Malfrous took Drago by the shoulder and stared him in the eyes. "Its over." He sighed, huffing for air. "I'm...I can't go back." Malfrous said. "To all...this." He looked up at the large SCP logo within the building. "My days as one of the guys here is over." He said. He almost sounded sad.
He let go of Drago and looked at Colms. "Thank you. Both of you. For everything." He said. Colms and Dragos stood in disbelief.
And Malfrous took off his mask.
It revealed only a pale face of dark hair, with a large scar crossing his eye and his nose.
"Where will you go?" Colms asked.
Malfrous turned back and smiled. "Back to where I started."