SCP - 021 "Skin Wyrm"
Object Class - Safe
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Site-19, Cell 217-A
D-139 sat on the edge of his cot, shirtless, sweat beading on his brow. The tattoo—an ornate, sinuous dragon—writhed across his chest and back, its scales rippling as it "swam" beneath his skin. He winced as the dragon's tail flicked around his ribs.
Dr. Lila Chen stood behind the glass, clipboard in hand. "How are you feeling today, D-139?"
He glared at the observation window. "How do you think? Feels like someone's taking a cheese grater to my insides. All the time."
She made a note. "Pain level, one to ten?"
He snorted. "Ten. Always ten. But… I don't get tired. Not really. I can do push-ups for an hour and not feel it."
The dragon's head slid up his shoulder, flicking a forked tongue at his neck. D-139 shuddered. "It's hungry again, Doc."
Dr. Chen nodded to the guard. "Bring in the ink."
A technician entered, rolling up D-139's sleeve. He quickly tattooed a bright red apple on the forearm. The dragon immediately twisted down, flattening over the new image.
D-139 hissed. "There it goes. Feels… weird. Not as bad as the rest."
The apple faded, colors draining into the dragon's mouth. In seconds, the skin was blank.
Dr. Chen leaned into the intercom. "Describe the sensation."
"Like ice water under my skin. Not pain, just cold." He flexed his arm, marveling at the blank patch. "It's gone."
She scribbled notes. "Any other tattoos before you came here?"
He shook his head. "Never liked needles. Irony, huh?"
That night, Dr. Chen visited the cell alone. D-139 was awake, tracing the dragon's outline with a trembling finger.
"Why me?" he asked quietly.
She hesitated. "You volunteered for extended D-Class service. You're strong. And you survived the transfer."
He looked up, eyes haunted. "I feel… different. Stronger. But angry, all the time. Like it's not just the pain. Like the dragon's in my head."
She nodded. "Aggression is a known side effect. But you're alive. And you'll stay alive, as long as you host SCP-021."
He laughed bitterly. "Some deal. Eternal pain for a few extra months."
She offered a sympathetic smile. "We're learning from you. Maybe one day, we'll find a way to make it less painful."
He looked down at the dragon, which seemed to meet his gaze. "Or maybe it'll just get bored and move on."
A week later, D-139 was pale and shaking. His skin was raw where the dragon had lingered.
Dr. Chen entered with a new D-Class, D-247, who bore a sleeve of tattoos.
"Ready?" she asked. Both men nodded grimly.
They pressed forearms together. The dragon's head lifted, tongue flicking, and with a shudder, it slid from D-139's skin onto D-247's, settling among the colorful tattoos.
D-247 screamed, collapsing to the floor as the dragon devoured his ink.
D-139 slumped in relief, skin pale and unmarked. "It's gone," he whispered.
Dr. Chen helped him up. "You did well. You survived."
He managed a weak smile. "Maybe now I can sleep."
End of Log