"Trial 16."

So the Plague Doctor was right. Sure enough, on the other side of the room was an old lady.

She had gnarled hands and wrinkled skin. She had to be at least 60 and her hair was white. "Chego ty khochesh'?," the woman said as I was inspecting her. I had no clue what she had said, but I knew she couldn't be that dangerous. Wouldn't 049 have said something if that was the case.

049. The syringe! It would kill her, right?

My blood ran cold and suddenly I fell ill with conflict. The lady before me was elderly and appeared fragile. If I killed her, it wouldn't be any better than if I would have killed a puppy. Or if I would have killed the little girl I had met in one of my previous trials before I lost track of time which was more or less defined by the Trial numbers. I still thought about her from time to time.

My hand seemed to repel away from the syringe in my pocket. I shook my head. I wasn't going to kill the old lady.

"Kto ty? Chego ty khochesh'?," she said, her foreign language turning my brain into spaghetti. She shuffled over to me at an agonizing pace. She said, "Podozritel'nyy. Vy rabotayete na nikh, ne tak li?"

And then she punched me. Full force. I didn't even flinch, even if I had time to— she seemed harmless until now.

My mind played back my awful experience with 096 as I felt my ribs crack from the force of her fist and my body collided with the wall across the room. It didn't hurt as bad as last time.

"Ublyudki!," she shouted and grabbed me by my throat. I gagged and she chokeslammed me. That hurt. Bad. She raised my body and I felt her slowly tighten her grip. Looks really could be deceiving. Fog filled my vision. I grabbed at her wrists, trying to loosen her vice grip to no avail.

I was blacking out. Another failed Trial. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, denying me the right to accept death.

Pain. The syringe...

I reached a shaking hand down in my pocket. Grabbed the syringe. With my last bit of strength that was left from the slow process of my dying I popped the cap of the syringe off with my thumb, barely aware of the rapid rattling clicking sound it made when it hit the floor, and plunged the needle into the woman's neck.

She dropped me with a angry "[RDFL]". I gasped and greedily forced air into my lungs quicker than my lungs were ready and I instantly coughed it back out. The world swam around me in a dull black, white and grey before my stomach clenched and I threw up.

I looked up, cringing at the acrid taste in my mouth and throat, to see the old woman on her back convulsing. I saw blood run out of her nose, ears, eyes and mouth. I couldn't force myself to look away from the horrible sight until her suffering seemed to stop and she remained still.

I heaved and threw up again. I was no better than any of the other SCPs. No, not even 096.

And then something happened. It suddenly felt like acid had filled my veins and, strangely, at the same time I felt energy course through me. It felt like... power.

"Trial success"

And then I lost consciousness.