Innocents Sleep Soundly


Up until now, Karsin hthought he had seen it all. He'd fought his way throught Chaos Insurgency sites, shut down containment breaches, even blew up an oil tanker with a rocket launcer. When he was informed he was being reassigned to Containment Area 25b and handed a file, he thought to himself, how bad could SCP-076-2 be?

The flooded floor of the corridor infront him had 20,000 volts flowing through it at a current of over 30,000 amps. One touch and even an african elephant would be roasted alive. On each side of him were M134 Miniguns, stripped off a helicopter and reuprposed as turretts. Together they were spitting out 200 rounds a second. There were several more automated turrets, firing away.

And Abel just laughed.

With one hand swatting bullets out of the air so fast it was a blur, he grabbed the enormous section of steel plating he had torn off the walls, hurling it at the first automated turret and sending it crashing down. He didn't even seem to be noticng the millions of dollors of electricity they were pumping into him.

He sure did notice the miniguns, though. Two more sections of plating came their ways, nearly taking off Jason and Cyril's heads along with them.

The only peace he ever had was in his dreams.

In his dreams he was in control, or at least it was pleasant. One minute he'd be running down an electrified corridor and swatting bullets out of the air, and then someone would throw a grenade, or get a lucky shot with a rifle, or trigger a warhead, and then darkness would set in.

In his dreams, he could remember the life he had lost so long ago. He could remember his mother's face, and how she would always manage to get him to sit still to fix all the scrapes and bruises the capricious young Able would wrack up each day.

He could remember sitting on his father's lap, clapping delightedly as Adam el Asem made the clouds dance and move across the sky for his sons.

And then he would dream of Cain.

They always started the same. It would be pleasant, at first. Like when they had been playing with the baby goats, or sword fighting in the meadow, or just eating dinner.

He would look up and see his brother, but changed. There would be this ugly mark scarring his brow, with an equally horrifying viasge upon his face. And cain would kill him, and then he would wake up.

When he woke, he could remember nothing but rage. He would rember the feeling of shock and betrayal and outrage when his brother, the one who he had ran with over the fields near his home and who he fought for, had killed him millenia ago, and he would scream.

All his happy memories were gone. In his place he could remember drifting back to the land of the living, only to find himself not in his bed, but outstretched on a stone slab with figures in blood red robes looming over him.

They did things to him that would make him scream and cry and beg for death, until it was finally granted to him. But the Brothers were too cruel to let him remain dead, and he would return only for the entire torturous process to be started again.

WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME?, he would scream in his head as he cut his way through scores of Foundation agents.

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