A month ago, Dr. Robert Maxwell was a senior
researcher working at the facility, but a tragic mistake had cost the lives of several
of his co-researchers. Now he was being led down a bleak hallway
in Armed Bio-Containment Area-14, a rifle-wielding guard flanking him on either side. The once rising researcher had a very different
title now: D-8724. He had been made a D-Class personnel… a
death sentence. However, as the guards led him to his possible
demise, he wasn’t dressed in the typical D-Class orange jumpsuit. No, he was dressed in frilly, rococo dining
wear more typical of 18th century France. If anything, Dr. Maxwell looked like he was
on his way to meet royalty. And, in a sense, he was. The former researcher had begged for any other
assignment, but the site director insisted on committing Dr. Maxwell to teatime with
SCP – 082. He’d always been the talkative type, so
the two would make a perfect pairing, and if the creature found him sufficiently amusing,
then Maxwell might even leave the containment cell alive. He’d heard legends of the giant creature
they called The Cannibal. Maxwell hoped they were just stories. Dr. Maxwell was pushed by the guards into
a large, luxuriously-appointed room and the doors were locked behind him. He felt like a child, surrounded by freakishly
large furniture and ten foot high ceilings. The fog of obnoxious floral perfumes couldn’t
fully cover up the pervasive smell of death that lingered in the cavernous halls of 082’s
palace. Thanks to an elaborate ruse conducted by the
Foundation, SCP-082 believed he was the king of France, and that his containment cell was
a palace where he remained for his own safety. The creature’s continued good behaviour
and everyone else’s safety relied on visitors keeping up that lie. Maxwell had never worked in this area of the
facility, so a lot of the standard procedures were new to him. Still, his superior had given him a clear
directive: Talk to the monster, communicate with him. Be cordial and friendly. See if you can find out more about his mysterious
past. And most importantly: If you want to survive,
don’t annoy him. The down-on-his-luck scientist gulped and
sighed, trying to steady his nerves in this oversized, fake French palace. He just kept thinking “Surely he can’t
be that big?” He almost talked himself into believing that
the accounts of the creature were just that - tall tales - until a huge figure began lumbering
into the main chamber. It was him: SCP – 082, also known as Fernand
The Cannibal. SCP-082 was an eight-foot-tall hulking monster,
built sturdier than the castles it likes to imagine are its true home. Swollen, bloated, and grossly out of proportion,
the creature clocks in at over seven hundred pounds – most of which is pure muscle that’s
almost impossible to pierce with conventional weaponry. SCP-082 stopped just feet away and stared
at Dr. Maxwell with its beady, sunken-in eyes, like a hungry rat. Just the sight of it struck terror into Dr.
Maxwell’s heart, but he didn’t dare show his fear. Instead he remembered his brief training,
bowing politely and forcing a smile, referring to the creature as “your highness” and
profusely thanking it for granting him an audience. The monster continued staring without saying
anything and then gave a wide, lock-jawed grin, showing off its huge teeth. It did everything through gritted teeth, except
eat and sing. Dr. Maxwell hoped he wouldn’t be a part
of either activity. Fernand gave a low, booming chuckle. He thanked Dr. Maxwell for coming to give
him some company and invited him to come further inside and take a seat. Adding, with a sly wink, that he won’t bite. The monster complained that he so rarely gets
visitors to the palace these days – but he omitted the fact that the main reason for
this was his tendency to devour them. Maxwell nodded and followed the giant deeper
into its oversized abode. He couldn’t help but notice that the monster’s
arms looked like huge, fleshy punching bags. He knew that if Fernand wanted to, he could
easily crush him flat, just like he’d done to so many unfortunate guards during containment
breaches. Fernand told Dr. Maxwell that he was thinking
of having some decorating work done. The walls of his palace were starting to look
awfully drab and he gestured to one covered with a rusty red streak. Maxwell remembered that D-Class cleaners were
sent into the containment cell twice a month to tidy any of Fernand’s messes, but they
often ended up becoming one the messes themself. The creature encouraged Maxwell to take a
seat at his oversized dining table, while he tended to a pot of what he said was full
of delicious onion soup. Maxwell obliged his host’s request and took
a seat at a huge chair that made him look like a six-year-old sitting at the grownups’
table. Meanwhile, Fernand was using a huge machete-like
knife to cleave onions in half for his bubbling pot of stew. Even though Fernand had shown no signs of
outward aggression, as he watched the Cannibal hack away at onions with his enormous knife,
Maxwell could feel himself beginning to sweat. After all, they didn’t call this creature
“The Cannibal” for nothing – this was a monster with a truly horrifying body count. During previous containment breaches it had
taken enough tranquilizer to put down two elephants to subdue the creature, but not
before multiple agents quite literally lost their heads in the process. Fernand was able to bite them off with one
huge chomp, like he was eating a drumstick, snapping right through bone with his incredible
tooth and jaw strength Surprisingly when he wasn’t on a violent
rampage, foundation researchers had found SCP-082 to be unusually polite and forthcoming,
offering the researchers plenty of information about himself and his past. The only problem was that almost everything
the creature said was a complete lie. From his time as a researcher, Maxwell knew
that there were only a few details about the creature that could be ascertained for certain
- SCP-082 would reliably answer to the name “Fernand”, and genetically, Fernand was
technically human. The means by which Fernand became so grotesquely
huge, strong, and cannibalistic are still unknown – Foundation personnel are still
looking into whether it’s due to some kind of anomalous genetic mutation, or by more
supernatural means. All we know is that he’s big, unpredictable,
and extremely dangerous. Dr. Robert Maxwell sat, terrified, at the
dining table of SCP – 082, listening to Fernand’s slightly dull blade chop through
the final onion, which he then tossed into the boiling soup. Fernand had switched the topic of conversation
to one of his favorite fictional characters – Hannibal Lecter. Of course, Hannibal the Cannibal isn’t quite
so fictional to Fernand. While he’s been shown to be extremely intelligent
in terms of puzzle-solving and memory, he seems to have no understanding of the distinction
between fiction and reality. He assumes all movies and TV shows are a form
of documentary or reality television. And ever since seeing The Silence of the Lambs,
Fernand has been eager to meet with Dr. Lecter, which he emphasized to Maxwell over and over. Since trying to explain the concept of fiction
to Fernand has never previously worked, Maxwell simply told him that Dr. Lecter is extremely
busy at the moment, but will visit whenever he gets a chance. This seemed to satisfy Fernand, who placed
two large bowls of steaming soup on the table before sitting down a little too close to
Maxwell. He couldn’t help but notice that the giant
cannibal was now sitting within biting distance, and as a lowly D-Class, nobody would be rushing
in to save him if things went south. Fernand began ranting through his clenched
teeth once more, occasionally stopping to consume a hefty spoonful of onion soup. Maxwell was sure to do the same, not wanting
to seem anything less than polite. But soon, the tenor of Fernand’s rant began
to shift. Typically, the monster spoke French or heavily
accented English. Now, he was affecting the accent of a Victorian
gentleman, peppering his speech with “tally ho” and “the game is afoot.” Maxwell was confused at first, but quickly
realized the game Fernand was playing. It’s well known that Fernand is a pathological
liar who likes to play numerous characters, changing his mannerisms and clothes accordingly. These personas have included: A vampire, Big
Bird, André the Giant, Foundation researcher Dr. Bright, The Incredible Hulk, Alexander
The Great, Captain Hook, Dr. Frankenstein, and Frankenstein's Monster. And of course, in this case, the iconic fictional
detective Sherlock Holmes. Fearing for his life in this strange situation,
Dr. Maxwell did the only thing he could - Play along. As Fernand reeled off his Holmesian delusions,
Maxwell began to play the role of Dr. John Watson, asking follow-up questions and complimenting
Fernand’s “impeccable” deductive reasoning. And it seemed to be working – Fernand played
along too, acting as though the two of them really were Arthur Conan Doyle’s crime-fighting
duo. Towards the end of their game, Dr. Maxwell
was even starting to enjoy it, amazed that his quick thinking was actually keeping him
safe. But just then the Cannibal froze, as if in
a trance. He locked eyes with Dr. Maxwell – like a
mad dog, that you can’t tell if it’s going to bite you or not. He saw the creature’s gargantuan teeth separating,
its huge jaws stretching open. This could surely only mean one thing. Dr. Maxwell winced and prepared for death,
cursing that all his quick thinking had amounted to nothing. Fernand leaned towards him, his gaping maw
with its hot onion scented breath just inches away from Maxwell. And then… he began to sing – the Cannibal
broke into a raucous Victorian pub song, happy and jovial. In his moment of terror, Dr. Maxwell had forgotten
that this was the other reason SCP – 082 opens his nightmarish jaws. Relief washed over him, as he knew he was
safe, at least for a moment. Not long after, foundation guards arrived
and escorted him from the cell, leaving the delusional giant to his own devices back in
the so-called palace. The former researcher had done it, he had
bested Fernand the Cannibal and hopefully it would be the last time he’d ever be face
to face with that deranged giant. Unfortunately for Dr. Robert Maxwell, in a
performance review later that week, one of his superiors remarked that Fernand enjoyed
his company and he had done a great job. Such a good job in fact, that Fernand insisted
he have Dr. Maxwell for dinner... or any other meal for that matter... sometime very soon. Now go check out “SCP – 096 – The Shy
Guy” and “SCP-3000 – Anantashesha” for more tales to capture the imagination
from the SCP Foundation!
