The day-to-day routine of Dr. Gears consisted
of a few constants: piping hot cups of black, unsweetened coffee, plain dry wheat toast,
the soothing sounds of his favorite white noise machine, and the endless carousel of
experiments with SCP-914. Not that he was complaining, he was perfectly
content to spend his time supervising one of the few anomalies he crossed paths with
on a regular basis that was unlikely to kill or maim him in any way. Not that the Clockworks hadn't produced its
fair share of unpredictable results over the years of extensive testing. It had definitely offered up more than a few
surprises. And anyone who knew Dr. Gears knew that he
was not especially fond of surprises. Dr. Bright had attempted to throw a surprise
birthday party for the man once, but when he turned on the lights and fired the confetti
cannon, all Dr. Gears did in response was give a deep sigh and say "Really, Jack? You're making a spectacle of yourself." Still, he had resigned himself long ago to
the fact that supervising the experiments with SCP-914 meant witnessing some truly unpredictable
outcomes. How could he forget the time Researcher Blais
tested an incandescent light bulb on the setting "Very Fine," and the machine spat out an anthropomorphic
humanoid lightbulb that spoke in German-accented English and claimed to be Thomas Edison himself. This was, of course, impossible, as historical
records surely would have indicated if Thomas Edison was a walking talking lightbulb rather
than a human man. The imposter was eventually incinerated after
its presence became too irritating to ignore. And then there was the time Researcher Thompson
filled out a Dungeons and Dragons character sheet and placed it into the machine on the
setting "Very Fine." The output produced was a sheet of paper promoting
the previously nonexistent tabletop roleplaying game Fear in the Foundation. Whenever a person read the paper, they would
suddenly find themselves in an out-of-body experience where they were inside of the game's
world, which contained several characters related to the SCP Foundation, as well as
items and locations based on real-world counterparts. A subject in this state would only snap back
to reality after winning or dying in the game. Researcher Jacobson rolled a 1 on stealth
and saw SCP-096's face in the game, and was later found dead in the anomalous item storage
wing. There was no shortage of Foundation staff
trying to use the machine for personal gain, too. Dr. Naismith placed his credit card inside
on the setting "Very Fine," using it to produce a card covered in unidentified corporate insignias
and reading “RANK-ALEPH INFINITE MONEY PRIVILEGES.” When Dr. Coltrane issued a written warning,
Dr. Naismith took that warning and then placed it into the machine on the same setting, producing
a piece of official documentation from the O5 council in support of his Infinite Money
Privileges. Junior Researcher Summers attempted to use
SCP-914 in a misguided attempt at self-improvement, placing not an object, but herself in the
intake booth before running the machine on the setting "Very Fine." It cleared her skin, lengthened her hair,
and improved her figure. This was, of course, in violation of several
employee guidelines, and she was promptly dismissed after emerging from SCP-914. Dr. Veritas left a note in the experiment
log following this incident, reading: "By the time we realized what she was actually
doing, it was too late to stop her. Needless to say, she's since been terminated,
and I hope I don't need to tell you all not to do it again." And with that, the guidance was clear: no
one was permitted to use SCP-914 for personal gain, or to change anything about themselves. Potential complications were too risky, not
to mention the conflicts of interest that would be introduced into what should be an
impartial research process. As scientific objectivity's biggest fan, Dr.
Gears couldn't agree more. So, as he settled in for the day's round of
tests, he intended to keep a watchful eye on things and ensure that no funny business
would take place. He didn't have much reason for concern, as
his colleague Dr. Bonita prepped her research materials. She was working with two items: a small replica
of Michelangelo's sculpture of David, and a sealed envelope containing something that
was to be handled with extreme caution, a photograph of SCP-096's face. She planned to place the items inside on the
"Very Fine" setting, in an attempt to see what result might be produced from combining
an ideal of traditional beauty standards with the image of a creature that felt such profound
shame and distress at its own appearance that it would destroy anyone who looked at its
face. Like any good scientist, Dr. Bonita wanted
to remove any unnecessary variables from her experiment. So, as she placed her items inside the intake
booth, she slowly, delicately, unsealed the envelope. She wanted to put the picture inside by itself,
without the extra element of the envelope potentially complicating things. Unfortunately, like Marie Curie slowly, unintentionally
poisoning herself with her own research materials, she didn't truly understand the danger of
what she held in her hands. Just as she was setting the photograph down,
her eyes flickered to the image. Before she could even stop herself, before
she could look away or squeeze her eyes shut, she caught a glimpse of the one thing she
should never look at: SCP-096's face. She gasped and slammed the photograph down,
but she knew it was too late. The sound of an inhuman shriek coming from
across the facility signaled that she was right. It was coming for her, and nothing in the
world could stop it. In a containment cell on the other side of
the facility, Foundation staff were horrified as they heard the telltale scream of an enraged
SCP-096. The pale, thin creature, once huddled in the
corner silently, had stretched to its full height of 2.38 meters, and was screaming,
sobbing, wailing in gibberish, and beginning to tear its way out of its chamber. Guards tried their best to subdue the entity,
firing their weapons at it, but the bullets did nothing to damage the creature's pale
flesh or stop its movements. It ripped through the steel cube that contained
it, and knocked the guards out of its way with one swipe of its unnaturally long arms,
sending them careening into a nearby wall. Fortunately for them, SCP-096 only knocked
them unconscious. It didn't stop to harm them further, as it
had a more important goal in mind: Find the person who had seen its face, and destroy
them. As the alarm blared, signifying a high-threat-level
containment breach, SCP-096 loped down the hall toward Dr. Bonita in SCP-914's room. Dr. Gears had not spotted Dr. Bonita's grave
mistake, and had no idea what had triggered the alarm he was hearing. He stepped away from the observation window,
turning his attention to the crisis that was clearly happening somewhere else in the facility. Meanwhile, Dr. Bonita was panicking. She saw her life flash before her eyes, the
certainty of impending doom that was coming for her, and coming fast, all because of one
brief error in judgment. What could she do? There was nowhere to hide, no way she could
run away fast enough, unless... If she managed to lure 096 into the intake
booth, and start the machine while the creature was inside, maybe it would transform into
something less intent on tearing her limb from limb? It was a risky move, and one that could jeopardize
her position at the Foundation, but she couldn't very well keep her job if she was dead, so
it seemed like it just might be worth a shot. A primal roar of agony and fury interrupted
her thoughts, and she knew that SCP-096 was moments away from breaking down the door and
getting its hands on her. She would have to move fast. With the screech and grind of metal on metal,
SCP-096 wrenched the door off its hinges and barreled into the room. In its search for the person who had seen
its face, it ran toward the silhouette of Dr. Bonita, standing just at the entrance
to the intake booth. She tucked and rolled out of the way, just
as the monster entered the booth. The door automatically slid shut behind it,
and, as SCP-096 rattled the door and tried to free itself, she turned the knob to "Very
Fine" with every ounce of strength and speed she had. There was the ding of a small bell, and the
machine whirred to life as the objects inside were refined. Dr. Bonita has no idea what would be waiting
for her in the Output Booth, but she could only hope that her last-ditch effort had managed
to save her life. In the fog of panic, she briefly felt an itch
of scientific curiosity, too. What would become of a being like SCP-096
in a machine as strange and wonderful as SCP-914? What would the addition of the statue do to
it? As the door to the Outtake Booth slid open,
steam pouring out, it appeared her questions would soon be answered. Cautiously, in spite of herself, Dr. Bonita
called out: "Hello?" No one answered, but she heard the sound of
footsteps, slow and careful, as a figure emerged from the mist. She covered her mouth in shock, her eyes wide. "Dear God..." She whispered in awe. Standing in front of her, with pale, smooth
skin and the same imposing stature, was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Wide dark eyes shone under thick, sculpted
eyebrows. Under the eyes, an aquiline nose, full pouty
lips, a strong, sharp jawline. His head was topped with a tangle of lustrous
dark curls. It was the kind of hair she had only seen
flowing in the wind on the covers of the romance novels she wanted desperately to buy, but
was too embarrassed to be seen purchasing. His physique was, well, statuesque, like the
build of the very Michelangelo sculpture she had placed into the machine just moments ago. There was no other way to say it: he was handsome
- Despite still being a little lanky, and nine feet tall. He peered at her curiously, towering over
her in a way that had been terrifying in his former shape, but now made her heart skip
a beat in an entirely different way. "Hi..." Was all she could think to say. Was she blushing? She shook her head, snapping herself out of
it. She was a scientist, dammit! Not some giddy school girl passing notes in
class. This was an incredible achievement, something
she would need to study thoroughly. And she very much wanted to study him thoroughly...No! No time for that. She needed to write up a report, to inform
her superiors, to try her best not to lose her job over this. She had to remain professional. "Hi," the man that had once been, or perhaps
still was, SCP-096 spoke. "Oh! You can talk!" Dr. Bonita laughed in surprise. The man's brow furrowed. His newfound ability to speak was a surprise
to him too, it seemed. "Yes. I can. What...happened to me?" he asked, stumbling
over his words slightly, getting used to the feeling of them. "You ran into the machine..." She gestured to SCP-914. "I'm not exactly sure, to be honest. But you're...very different not." He nodded. "I feel different. I feel...calm." He sighed, the relief plain on his face, before
a shadow of sadness fell over him. "I don't think I have to hurt anymore. I'm...I'm sorry. For what I did before." Dr. Bonita didn't know what to say. How do you respond when something you've been
studying from afar, been horrified and fascinated by in equal measure, looks at you with a new,
beautiful face and apologizes for all of the harm it caused? This whole experience was so surreal that
she might think she was dreaming if she didn't work at a place that was one long waking dream,
or nightmare depending on the day. "Dr. Bonita? There's been a containment breach, are you
alright?" Dr. Gears had returned to the room, taking
in the sight of the destruction left in 096's wake. "I'm fine..." She called to him, and he followed her voice
into the room, then stopped at the sight of the transformed anomaly. "Hm. I don't have time for whatever this is. I trust you'll handle it?" Dr. Gears took a long sip of his coffee, and,
taking Dr. Bonita's shocked silence as a confirmation, had a leisurely stroll back to his office. A few moments later, the guards responsible
for containing SCP-096 arrived on the scene, expecting to see carnage and find a docile
SCP-096 crouched over a lifeless body, but instead they found the same truly bizarre
sight that Dr. Gears had shrugged off, and Dr. Bonita was still doing her best to process. They entered the room with their weapons drawn,
but quickly lowered them, scratching their heads in confusion instead, before radioing
their supervisors and asking for further instructions. Responses from various Foundation staff who
caught a glimpse of SCP-096's bold new look included "Huh, would you look at that?" "Who's that guy? He's WHAT?!" and, in the words of Dr. Jack Bright, "Oh
NO, he's HOT!" Dr. Bright also proposed making the new SCP-096
a tiktok account and YouTube channel, seeking modeling representation for him, or selling
a novelty calendar filled with pictures of 096 in various costumes. These would be, in his words, "Excellent ways
to increase revenue for the Foundation. So really you're the weird ones for thinking
my ideas are weird." Dr. Bright was asked to leave SCP-096 alone,
and stop trying to take his headshot. In the days that followed the incident with
SCP-914, the SCP Foundation was at a loss about what to do with this new, seemingly
harmless version of SCP-096. Dozens of D-Class were brought in to look
at his face, and see if the entity would still enter one of his rage states after a few days
of getting used to his new form, but he never did. No screaming, no swallowing people whole,
nothing more than a polite, if somewhat shy, greeting, and a courteous "How are you doing
today?" The D-Classes were relieved, but confused
about being pulled from their cells just to stare at some random handsome man. Dr. Clef suggested dissecting SCP-096, to
see what his new body looked like on the inside. This request was denied. Several interviews were conducted to evaluate
SCP-096's mental and emotional state. Now that the anomaly was capable of coherent
speech, it was much simpler to evaluate the potential threat level he might pose. Every researcher who spoke with him came to
the same conclusion: gone was the danger of the old SCP-096. He had not just become beautiful in a classical,
superficial sense, but he had become beautiful on the inside as well. Interviewers reported a warm, friendly demeanor,
a talent for engaging in conversation once he was made to feel comfortable, and a sincere
interest in the thoughts, opinions, and feelings of those he spoke with. There was only one thing left to do, to make
sure that SCP-096 had really changed from something deadly to something almost resembling
an ordinary person. A photograph of SCP-096's face, of its original
face, was removed from a secure vault by a D-Class. Then, the D-Class was sent into a room with
SCP-096, and instructed to place the photograph on the table. SCP-096 looked down at what had once been
his face, and his eyes filled with tears. A soft, broken sob left his lips, and he wrapped
his arms around himself, hunching over as if in physical pain. Outside the room, guards prepared to handle
things if 096 began to attack. Instead, he wiped his tears, took a deep,
shuddering breath, and looked at the D-Class with a somber expression. He picked up the photograph of the table,
and tore it in half, as he finally summoned the strength to speak. "Please...get rid of these. That's not who I am anymore." At Dr. Bonita's strong insistence, backed
up by the conclusions of the research staff who interviewed SCP-096, a reevaluation of
the entity's containment measures was ordered. It seemed cruel, and an unnecessary waste
of resources, to keep 096 trapped in a steel cube in its current form. He would be moved to a standard humanoid containment
cell, and treated as well as other safe-class anomalies provided with books, films, food
and drink upon request, and other comforts. Of course, the O5 council insisted on evaluating
the entity before any of these changes could be approved. Dressed in a specially tailored suit, provided
by Dr. Bonita, SCP-096 appeared before the council to present his case. "I know that I may not have the best record
at the Foundation. I've done a lot of damage over the years. Though, let's be honest, you all aren't exactly
innocent either. Sorry, that was an attempt at a joke. I'm still very new to talking. All I can say is, please consider giving me
another chance to make a real life here, to make this place my home. Thank you for your time." What SCP-096 didn't know is that the O5 Council
was so flabbergasted by the sight of his new face that they didn't retain a single word
he said. They had all given their official approval
before he even finished his short presentation. Before long, SCP-096 was moved out of his
steel cube and into a new containment chamber that resembled a mid-range studio apartment
complete with a bed, a kitchenette, a television, and a table and chairs. He was provided access to all major streaming
platforms, as well as a large stack of books to help him develop his grasp of culture and
language after so very long being isolated from human society. Though he wasn't exactly human, he was determined
to act like it. Word quickly spread around the Foundation
site, and humans and anomalies alike flocked to SCP-096's new home to visit him, and see
the miraculous transformation for themselves. SCP-999 was the first to come and see the
new and improved 096, chirping excitedly as it oozed into his room. He pet the slime gently, his face breaking
into a warm smile as its euphoric effect washed over him. The slime became so excited at meeting this
new friend, someone it had known as a source of sadness and hurt for so long, that it tackled
him to the ground and tickled him for several minutes, 096 laughing uproariously all the
while. SCP-343 stopped by to give 096 his blessing
and wish him well in this new chapter of his life. A few days later, SCP-507 popped back into
the Site and wanted to see the changes for himself. He was thoroughly impressed, though privately
confessed to missing SCP-096's more monstrous form, which reminded him of some of his favorite
cryptids. There was one anomaly that was not thrilled
with the appearance of SCP-096, however. SCP-056 was furious upon hearing about the
new beautiful man that everyone just couldn't shut up about. It demanded a chance to speak to SCP-096,
and to tell him that "This place isn't big enough for the both of us. I'm the fairest of them all, you sniveling
little worm!" But the request was denied. SCP-056 sulked about it for several weeks. Meanwhile, Dr. Bonita was still intent on
getting to know SCP-096 better. During previous testing with SCP-978, the
Desire Camera, a photo taken of SCP-096 revealed that his greatest desire was to disappear. Curious about what the results would be now,
Dr. Bonita received permission to take another picture of SCP-096. She snapped the photo while 096 was sitting
in a chair in his new containment chamber, looking directly at the camera. When the photo developed, the result was simple:
Everything in the picture was exactly the same, with one exception. Dr. Bonita was pictured sitting next to SCP-096,
her hand clasped in his. Both were smiling soft, contented smiles. When she showed him the photograph, he smiled
at her and shook his head. "It really is an amazing camera." She flushed. "Doctor...before you go, could I ask your
name?" Dr. Bonita smiled, and nodded. "It's Isabelle. What should I call you?" SCP-096 paused thoughtfully for a moment. He was giving himself a name for the very
first time, allowing himself an identity other than a strange, hollow, pale thing that existed
to cry, and suffer, and hurt. Finally, he answered her: "Call me David." Now go check out “The Whole Story! - What if SCP-096 Wore SCP-035?” and “SCP-049 Cures SCP-096 of the Pestilence?!” for more bizarre “What Ifs” about SCP-096!
