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THE CELL WASN'T A CELL AT ALL. It was more like a bedroom in a five star hotel. Everything about it was sumptuous. The bed was king sized and soft, made from the finest of Egyptian sheets. There were leather arm chairs and recliners. There was a plasma screen television that showed all the latest children's cartoons. There was even a small piano in the middle of the room. The only thing that gave the room's true purpose away was the heavy metal door with bars at the window and a guard stationed outside 24/7.
Arms the color of milk stretched into soft sheets, pink scars of all sizes crawling down her skin. Melanie rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, her feathery mess of black curls tickling her cheeks. She couldn't tell what time it was, as there were no windows to be found on the beige walls.
The metal slot at the bottom of the door slid open, a plate of steaming food shoved through the slot before sliding closed.
Melanie crawled off of her bed, her toes curling at the cold floor underneath her feet. It was routine; wake up, eat, go outside, sleep. And repeat. The sun was a foreign concept to her, the walls of the foundation being the only thing she had seen ever since she was young.
It was like a prison meant for gods; It was a paradise, and yet she felt trapped, like a bird without its wings. If there was one thing Melanie learned during the years, it was that nobody escaped. You'd try, but fail as soon as the guards came around the corner with their steel guns. Multiple SCP's were killed that way during the breaches.
The mashed potatoes should have burned her tongue as she scarfed the food down her throat. The food was practically melting and yet she didn't feel a thing. It was one of her "anomalies", as they called it.
During the day, Melanie preoccupied herself with the television and her stuffed animals. She would sit there for hours, only coming out of her cell for tests or to go into an outdoor enclosure, which was really only a tiny glass room with grass and a few flowers here and there.
A flicker of the lights dragged blueish green eyes off of the television. It was a brief moment of darkness, before thae lights went back on.
Her eyes went back to the screen.
The television was crackling. The static was terrible; the bright cartoons being replaced by a grey screen. The lights flickered once more.
She sat up in her bed, her scarred hands hugging the giant plush rabbit in her apprehension. The knitted cloth that smushed her cheek did not do much to silence the thumping sound in her ears.
A scream sounded outside of her door, following with a loud crack. Her head spun around, staring at the iron door that kept her inside of the cell. The static became louder with each second that passed.
She walked over to the door, stopping a few feet away from steel locks. Red liquid poured under the balls of her feet; too much blood to be from one person.
A blaring alarm sounded from the speakers, red light blinding her eyes. She jumped at the sound, her grip tightening on the plush animal. Air caught in her throat, her eyes going wide.
