A week.

A week was all it took for me to do all but lose my mind. A week of constant nightmares of me being torn apart. Of me tearing things apart. Tearing people apart.

One night I screamed so loud my throat bled.

I practically lost track of the trials. Eat. Sleep. Time for another trial.

Some were good. Some were bad. The repetition was hell.

Avery opened my cell door. Speak of the devil.

He didn't have to say a word. I followed.

Down several corridors until I reached the room.

I read the numbers 049 and the word Euclid on the identification card before entering.

Before I knew it, I was alone with a shadowy figure and the words "Trial Fifteen" rang out over the speaker.

Just like clockwork, the man spoke. This time I didn't flinch. Let's just get over with it, I thought.

"It's maddening isn't it?"

The man (or thing for all I knew) turned around and I, again, didn't flinch. He wore a plague doctor outfit. The bird mask was a silvery color and the dim light reflected off of it. Intelligent, aware, but dark eyes reflected the light as well from beneath his mask; something I rarely saw with the beasts that repeatedly tore me apart mentally and physically.

I nodded, slightly impressed. But still not scared. His voice was metallic.

I nodded at whatever he was talking about. Might as well make it count, right??

"Day after day. They send you into rooms such as the one you are currently in. Intentions not to be foretold; corruption lurks from within this very foundation. You're not the first. The answer as to will you be the last is completely beyond us both. And you are the Foundation."

"Ah yes. I sense something within you," the man said. He stepped closer. "Immunity. You are incapable of being prone to the pestilence that contaminates so many veins."

I stared at the creepshow, wishing he would just kill me like I knew he would.

He turned his head to look at the surveillance camera in the corner of the room. "I know your secret, 6621."

My secret? What was he talking about

"But I cannot disclose information to you. But I assure you... everything— all the puzzle pieces— will be put together and it will all make sense."

I itched the back of my neck.

"I want you to do something for me."

His voice held zero emotion and I had a hard time interpreting his intentions. Ignoring the belief that I was making a major mistake by doing so, I nodded once more.

He reached behind him and pulled out something. At first I had trouble making it out, but then my mind identified it as a syringe. He handed it to me and I curled my cold fingers around it.

"I know more than I let on, 6621," the Plague Doctor said. "Soon, you will be exposed to another SCP 352, if I remember correctly. Inject the lady with this. It will kill her. And in return, you will survive. Become more powerful."

Without warning, he pulled out another syringe and plunged it into my neck. I immediately collapsed and fog filled my vision. I succumbed to death for what seemed like the thousandth time to the words "Trial failure."

Before my body shut down for good, I thought I heard the Plague Doctor say something. It sounded something like, "Pestilence ... you'll thank me later."