Link to article: A Suicide Note.
:scp-wiki:component:license-box
:scp-wiki:component:license-box-end
[[>]] [[module Rate]] [[/>]] I am going to kill myself. Who am I kidding? I probably can't even die at this point. I know that the cyanide I injected isn't working because of the antitoxins put into my blood over a decade ago. Arsenic doesn't work, either; tried using rat poison and got no results. Everyone at the Foundation thinks I'm omnipotent, that I'm some kind of reality-bending psychopath who goes on 'wacky' adventures with Kondraki, Bright, Rights, Crow... oh, how fucking //wrong// they are. Konny's in a psych ward, Bright joined the Serpent's Hand and finally managed to die, Rights merged with that... //thing// she called her pet project, and Crow... poor, poor Crow. I had to shoot him myself. So, only I remain. Alto Clef. Alto "I will take a shotgun to a reality bender's balls and pull the trigger at point-blank range" Clef. Alto "I blew up the Challenger with my mind" Clef. Alto "I tried killing 239" Clef. Alto "Fucking Satan" Clef. Maybe the last part is true. Maybe I am Satan. And as my punishment for defying God, I'm forced to never be able to interact with anomalies. I'm not a reality bender; just the opposite. I'm a reality //anchor//. I'm the only thing that's certain in a world where Yellowstone National Park just started being noticed less than a year ago, and where the spontaneous combustion virus breached containment and killed an entire site in a week, where something that claims to be God walks around containment unhindered- except he can't very well walk anymore. I made sure of that. My last act in life, before I pull the trigger. I can't see ghosts. I can't walk into another universe; I've tried it, and there's an invisible barrier that keeps me from going through. I can't be affected by bends in reality, but I can touch those who bend it. I can't operate anomalous machinery- I nearly //broke// 914 by trying to use it in a test. I can't be seen by anything that would even remotely qualify as an actual deity or demon, and I can't see them, either. I can't see any of the hundreds of thousands of wonderful and terrible things that walk in our world. I can see bigfoot, aliens and some other cryptids, probably because they're not 'anomalous' in the traditional sense. They're part of this universe, not from outside of it. I've only ever been able to interact with three anomalies ever, all of them females. Go figure. The first one was... I can't even remember her name. I knew it, at one point. I think it started with a D. She was the love of my life, and I was told to kill her. I was told to take a shotgun to her head and blow her away just like I blew away a common bixby or a mary sue or a type green or whatever you called them. I couldn't. I saw in her eyes that she was afraid of me. So, I did what I had to. I ran from the Coalition, until there was nowhere left to run. I pledged my services to the Foundation if they promised amnesty for... Dáiríne. That was her name. I still remember the first bixby I killed. She was twelve years old. I had to run her over with a car. The only thing she did was make one of her dolls come to life because she was just so lonely and needed a friend. She was bullied at school to the point where she started cutting herself. She was //twelve.// She shouldn't have had to worry about what razor blades would leave the least noticeable scars or getting hit by people in black vans. Al Fine told me I was doing a service to the world. I had half a mind to shoot her right then and there. I waited for about six months before I actually did. Made it look like a mugging gone wrong. The second anomaly I was ever able to interact with was Epon. My daughter. I say 'interact', but I'm still immune to her anomaly. I knew it was her the instant I saw her. She had her mother's eyes. She's my only proof that there was a man named Alto Clef. My daughter, who's stuck in a cell because the Foundation is afraid that every male in the world is going to try raping her. They call her a succubus. What a joke. If she was a succubus, it would be the other way around. So, my daughter, who you know as 166, is being held against her will for the simple reason that she was //born//. She doesn't deserve it. I'm hoping that what I left with her will stop anything else from happening to her. And yet, I can't do anything about it. I can't even let her know I'm her father. The Foundation just thinks it's another anomaly that I'm immune to because I'm an anchor in a stormy ocean. But I know she's my daughter, and I want her to be happy. I tried to make her life a little better, but I had to use half of my contacts just to get a single note into her cell. I had to use the other half to leave my last gift for her. Epon, I'm sorry. The third one I could interact with was... was Sigurrós. 239, as you know her. That whole shitstorm with her... it was because I was scared. I could actually feel her in my mind. And I was //terrified//. I had to kill her because, if she could get into my mind, she could do anything. I couldn't let that power go unchecked. The whole Telekill Sword thing was bull. In my hands, a sharp stick could have killed her. I think that whole thing happened the way it did because, whatever 239 is, it wanted to toy with us. It wanted to laugh at us. It made me fight Kondraki. It made the thoughts in my mind into a dragon. It made everyone else act like fucking idiots just for a laugh. It was doing that for //years//, ever since we discovered it. She's dead, now. I put a cocktail of cyanide, arsenic, whatever 035 and 075 produce (I got it from the Coffee Machine with help from an assistant), and a few dozen other things into her system. She //melted//, right then and there. Since then, people have started acting normal again. --Gears-- Gerry actually laughed yesterday, when I told him a joke. It almost made me rethink this plan. But I know the Foundation is gonna figure out who melted 239 at some point. And because the Foundation's motto is Secure, Contain, Protect, not Destroy, --Destory-- Destroy, Destroy, I'm going to get my mind-wiped and dumped on the side of the road in Albuquerque or something. I'm not about to let that happen. My name is not Alto Clef. But it's probably the name you'll know me by, assuming the O5s don't expunge all record of my existence. My will can be found in Dr. Bright's old office, behind where he used to keep the picture of his family on the south-eastern wall. Assuming I can go to Hell, well, I'll see you all there someday. -Alto Clef. ------ > The above document was found in the office of Dr. Alto Clef following the sound of gunshots being reported from the general vicinity. When security teams arrived, blood matching that of Dr. Clef was found on the wall directly behind his desk, along with some brain matter and buckshot embedded in the wall. A spent shotgun casing was found underneath his desk, along with a Winchester 1912 shotgun that formerly belonged to Dr. Clef; saliva matching his DNA was found on the end of the barrel. > > To date, Dr. Clef's body has not been recovered. His current status is unknown. @@ @@ [[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]] [!-- N/A (No Images) --] [[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]