The Monster's Room - Chapter 34
<….You see all of this, don’t you?>
The woman on the screen, in white and black, seemed to be gazing directly at them. Amelia swallowed nervously, and Connor, already subdued and handcuffed, let out a hollow laugh.
“Impressive.”
“…….”
“To think that you guys would actually succeed.”
The scene before them—an SCP, surrounded by other anomalies with an Apollyon classification like its appendages.
“An SCP facing off against another SCP, a Thaumiel.”
Given the sight, it was understandable to draw such a comparison.
“Your victory…”
<It won’t be considered a victory.>
“What?”
The sound of heavy breathing filled the room. Everyone, including Connor, looked at the woman on the screen. Was it an illusion? No, it couldn’t be. The microphone connected to Zone F had been physically severed by the damn Mobile Task Force.
<I didn’t know anything.>
The woman on the screen spoke softly and sadly. She was growing more beautiful by the day, resembling a fairy or angel from a fairy tale rather than a mere human. Her lively, fair skin, hair that seemed to carry the Milky Way, and tattered clothes only emphasized the surreal quality.
<I truly am unlucky and drive people crazy.>
<<You’re not unlucky.>>
The one to counter Marie’s self-loathing was the Marionette Troupe Leader. Some researchers chuckled; it was hard for them to believe that such a mad creature could be so gentle.
<Look.>
Marie sadly brushed her fingers over the stitched mouth of the SCP on the screen.
<I don’t deny that I drive people mad.>
“……D-1705.”
The usually silent deputy director spoke, as if initiating a conversation.
<My name is Marie Garcia.>
She responded.
Researchers tensed up, some scattering. Each person began to prepare their respective roles—some backing up systems, others saving data—actions reminiscent of a Mobile Task Force’s protocols.
“What do you want?”
<Will I be contained going forward?>
“……”
<Or, am I already contained?>
SCP stands for three terms: Secure, Contain, Protect.
She had surely gone through this process. If she was already contained in Zone F-49, Marie had something to say.
<If I am indeed a monster that is unlucky and drives people mad, then I understand why people would want to keep me away.>
But…
The woman tilted her head as she spoke.
<It’s strange.>
Crackling and static noise increased on the screen. From a distance, Brooks muttered a curse.
<Isn’t it? My biological parents died because of me, it made the news, and I was adopted in America. Such coincidences, though, they happen more often than one might think.>
“Are you suggesting the Foundation might have been involved?”
<At least after that.>
Marie, holding the cotton doll, blinked her eyes. Despite the noise, her eyes sparkled like stars, giving her a charming appearance. The deputy director thought he should note ‘bewitching’ in the warnings for her—if, of course, they survived this.
<I killed my uncle, but there were mitigating circumstances. He tried to kill me, and later he died with my help. But I ended up being labeled as the one who killed both my uncle and the family that adopted me.>
“That…”
<When my path back to society was cut off and I became a death row inmate, someone from the Foundation came to me. At the very moment I was cornered, they offered me one path—like driving prey into a trap. What do you call that?>
“……”
Secure.
The deputy director could only manage a bitter smile.
“Miss Marie.”
This was the first time he addressed D-1705 by name. It was a gesture of retreat and an indication that he would treat her as a person.
“I know it sounds like an excuse, but we weren’t aware of this.”
<…….>
“Most projects are led by senior staff, and key information is not even permitted to junior staff like me. The only thing our team was allowed to know was that you might interact with SCPs in unique ways.”
<I know.>
“Pardon?”
<I know almost everything now.>
Marie showed them the broken mirror, just as she had with Kevin. The mirror, which should have reflected the ceiling or CCTV footage, still showed her own image.
<I am the Queen, and I have the magic mirror.>
It might sound crazy, but to researchers who only studied SCPs, it sounded completely different.
“So it really was the Queen’s magic mirror.”
“The magic mirror answers the Queen’s questions…”
“That’s information, right? But is the medium the mirror itself, or everything that reflects an image?”
“Quiet!”
The deputy director’s harsh command silenced the researchers. As if she had heard everything, Marie nodded.
<My request is simple. The person responsible for all this.>
The researchers felt as if they were bound from head to toe in an instant. No, they were indeed bound.
Sizzling. Crackling. Snap.
One of the CCTV screens went dark, and their figures were reflected on the pitch-black screen. They were bound by Spiegel.
<John Doe.>
Marie smiled. Her smile was so bright and pure that it only intensified the researchers’ fear.
<I want him to fall from grace. The project should be scrapped as well.>
It wasn’t a suggestion.
<How about it?>
It was a notification.
No one could oppose it.
