The Assassination of Tarrare - SCP Foundation

I wake up, facing the wall next to my bed. It takes me a minute roughly to turn around and face my bedroom door. A few more minutes and I get off my bed. No need to dress myself as I had forgotten to take off yesterday's clothes. Walking to my bedroom window, I look out and see the street outside. There are people walking, some alone, some with another, and some in groups walking and entering stores together. Enough people watching for right now, I turn back to my room, the walls a worn gray color, the ceiling a dirtied white. My legs take me to the kitchen, my stomach's about to digest itself.

Opening the fridge door reveals various lunchmeats, turkey, bologna, and spam. There's no bread, so the idea of a sandwich fades away. My eyes move to other parts of the fridge, a gallon of milk, a bottle of ketchup, and finally a carton of eggs. I reach for the carton, noticing how light it is. Opening it reveals that no eggs remain, I close the fridge and toss the carton in the trash. A spark of memory goes off in my head and I turn to the table in the corner of the kitchen. A box of pizza lays on the table, and inside it, there's half a pizza left. I sit at the table and grab a slice.

Between the first and second bites, I hear a ding from my bedroom. After putting the slice back in the box, I walk back into the room and pick up my phone. A new message. Checking the numbers shows that it's a 24θ area code, found only on phones sold on the black market on the other side of the veil. Useful if someone doesn't want to be tracked. This person wouldn't need it if they didn't know what I do, it's gonna be one of those days.

24θ-555-6155

Is this Terry?

Yes

?

What

Well, you're supposed to use a code word to show you're actually them.

Oh. Harper

Oh thank god. I just wanted to make sure that guy didn't give me a phony number.

Ok

That guy also said that you didn't want any backstory on why I want him killed, right?

Yes

Why? This guy's a bastard, I want him dead for a reason.

No it's not important for the job

Okay, I have a guy for you. Mr. Hungry. 6'2'', African-American, short hair, fucker's probably wearing a purple dress shirt. He's one of Wondertainment's guys so he might take a lot to put down for good.

Powers

Like I said you'll need some firepower to kill him. The asshole eats a lot too, he might have some sort of pocket dimension in his stomach, or some other bullshit.

Ok. 3000

All I have is $1,500, is that enough?

2500

I really only have $1,500.

2000

Fine, I might be able to gather up $500 more.

Does he have any spots he frequents?

There is this restaurant, I'm pretty sure it's his favorite, you'll know when you see him, he'll be surrounded by plates.

Send me the location

He gives me the address, not too far from here, maybe within walking distance. I cap off the text conversation with the address to send the money. I feel like it went well. Hopefully, that guy picked up the friendly vibe I was giving off. I don't know why he wanted to start our friendship with baggage like why he wanted this guy dead, no need for that heavy stuff. I check what's on tv, the only thing that gets my attention is some cartoon I stumbled on in the middle of a joke. I watch the rest of the episode before hitting the wardrobe choosing what to wear on my "Mission". I settle on a hot pink tank top, a dark green button-up shirt on top, and the least stained pair of jeans in the drawer. After playing dress-up, I fish out my 10% eaten slice of pizza and watch another episode of that cartoon. Halfway into the episode, I remember I'm not a cartoon fan and turn off the tv. Next stop, the armory.

I go to get my equipment, plan A, a pistol, anomalously enhanced to be completely silent, I could fire this next to someone's ear and they wouldn't hear a thing. Plan B is a knife, not anomalous whatsoever, in case I run out of bullets. For a plan C, I grab a lighter, and a stick of dynamite. Plan D was always weird, I take a pill bottle labeled "DO NOT EAT" labeled as to not get confused with my actual medicine. Plan D was always the worst, as it called for improvisation, something I've learned over time I sucked at. One last thing I grab is a stick of chalk, a writing utensil never hurt anyone. I enter the kitchen once more before leaving, taking stock of everything I had on me, my phone, plans A-D, a stick of chalk, and $30 in single dollar bills. I take another pizza slice out, put the rest of the box in the fridge, and head out.

It's cold out, should've taken a jacket, but I'm already outside so I keep walking. On my trip, I keep an eye out for other passersby. I think of it as a form of entertainment. I see a guy with a leather jacket and a mullet walk his dog, a golden retriever. A few minutes pass by and I see two people, a couple, talking loudly, maybe in an argument, maybe they're just excited about something together, I don't stay to find out. More minutes go by, and I see the pizza place I order from, "Cabreese's." It sounds Italian enough, and the food's cheap enough too. I stop by a clothing store and check some of the clothes, this is where I get most of my wardrobe, including my lucky tank top. I continue walking, I'm not much of a shopper.

When stepping into the next city over, there's a bit of a change in the air. There are fewer animals out, and more people. Fewer groups and couples and more people walking by themselves. I find someone to walk behind, matching their speed. This goes on for a few minutes before he slows and starts to look over his shoulder. A not-to-quick sidestep helps me avoid his gaze and suspicion. The people in this town stand out, with flashy clothes and colorful hair, I keep to a loose cluster of other people with Black hair and average looks so as to not draw attention.

I reach the place, it's one of those half-fancy restaurants, the kind you take the family to once every other month. I go to the back, making etches on the ground with chalk. The stick of dynamite isn't anomalous like the gun, so I need a different method to quiet down my resources. I'm starting to shiver, I need to get into there soon. I take my phone out so I can chat with my friend again.

New Friend

Im there

Holy shit, it's happening so you have a plan?

Yes

?

What is it?

Gun, knife, explosive, poison. in that order

What? That shit might bring get you some attention, be careful

Anomalous weaponry, no noise

Oh, gotcha. Ok, ok you got this it should be easy to spot him, make sure to send a picture of that bastard to me when you're finished with him

Ok

He's worrying about me, I feel our friendship growing. I take a second to compose not just myself, but a plan too. After thinking the words "isolate" and "shoot" I let my mind wander to other things. Maybe I should get a car, this being a walking distance was a white lie I told myself, it was a 50-minute trip here, and will be another fifty minutes back after this is done. Maybe I should get a second job, and save up more by not buying any more of these great clothes. Eh, I'll think about it later. I go for a cigarette, hand almost to my mouth before I remember I don't smoke. I still finish the movement and take a deep inhale. I hold my breath until my lungs begin to ache and slowly exhale my breath showing up in the cold air. Letting my non-existent cigarette fall to the ground, I make my way to the entrance.

I noticed him the second I entered the restaurant, it was the plates that gave him away. Two plates were nothing remarkable, three raised an eyebrow, and four got you plenty of stares. Twenty-seven plates, with multiple piles across the table, all completely cleaned off, however, was just enough to confirm his identity. It was a simple walk but I felt nervous, not because of the task ahead, but the stares of other patrons, another walk that felt like fifty minutes. As I got closer, a few of the plates had pieces bit off, some multiple times, there were two forks that had the prongs twisted, probably chewed on. He stared at me as I sat down opposite him, there was a stack of plates between us. I took the liberty of moving them aside, revealing he was still staring at me through the plates.

"Enjoying your meal?" A nice icebreaker to get rid of that deer-in-headlights look. "…Yeah, there's a cheesecake in the kitchen I'm waiting on. Do you need something?" The man is speaking in a whisper, like he's in front of a large animal and doesn't want to set it off. Up close I can see him better, sweating up a storm in his dress shirt. "Cheesecake." Somewhere between a statement and a question, "Don't think I've had one before, more of an ice cream fan myself." establishing common ground, he looks like he could use a friend… "I'm with the Doctor, they sent me to get you." And so, the lying begins.

His look of caution melts somewhat, replaced by shame. "Oh, I see… word got out, huh?" I don't need to know this guy's sob story, too much on the business side for my tastes, I gotta get him off this track. "Don't worry about all that, let's just get you home." The caution on his face is now completely gone, leaving shame to overtake it completely, he's crying now. "B-but what about-" I want to respect my friend's privacy, so I need to interrupt. "It's okay, they understand" He looks at me and sniffles before wiping his tears on his sleeve. He takes a second to compose himself.

"So, how are we getting back?" Got him, now to get him outside and me out of these people's sight. "I got a ride outside, in the back. We can go now if you want." A stern look forms on his face, I'm losing him. "What about the cheesecake?" Oh my god. I put on a small smile. "We got plenty of cheesecake at home, Mister." That gets a chuckle out of him. Almost knocking over his towers of plates, he gets up and we walk out. Just as many stares follow us leave as they followed me enter, just as uncomfortable. "You said they'd understand, is that really true?" "Of course, you're part of the family, Hungry" He looks like he's gonna cry again but he keeps himself under control.

The cold air gets me bad and causes a shiver, Hungry doesn't mind it though. "Where's the ride?" I haven't fully adjusted to the cold just yet, so I reply through the discomfort. "In the back, didn't want any unneeded attention." We head to the back, just my luck that there's a purple car, a Volkswagen beetle, he walks to it faster than me. As he reaches for the handle I reach for my gun. As he grabs the handle I grab the pistol grip. As he pulls the car door open I pull the trigger. The bullet fires silently go straight to his head only to bounce off harmlessly. Hungry's hand goes to his head and turns with a look of shock. A few more shots bounce off him and he turns to leave, punching the car, making its alarm go off. There goes plan A, plan B too as well, plan C it is.

I crouch behind a car. I take out my stick of dynamite and lighter, only now noticing the oddly smooth texture and how light it is… this is a fake stick of dynamite. Alright, time for plan D. Plastic dynamite in hand, I dig for the bottle of pills. I then empty out onto my hand before choosing a yellow pill. The other pills go back into the bottle and back into my pocket. I look at the bottom of the stick of dynamite, cut out a small hole with my knife, then stuff the pill inside. I head out to find Hungry, following a line of dented cars with alarms blaring. Poor guy's trying to get someone to help, but unfortunately, nobody inside can hear it. I reach the end of the line and turn to see a hole, he must've eaten through the ground, the bastard.

"Hey!" from my right, back at the Volkswagen Beetle. Hungry was standing, fists clenched, and broke into a run. I fired a few more times, each one swallowed by Hungry, twisting his head to catch each in his mouth.

Bang! Chomp.

I run out of bullets and Hungry meets me in a tackle. We fall to the ground. I use the confusion to roll over him, throwing my pistol away so I could land a few punches that had no effect. I settle for jamming my thumbs into his eyes, doesn't do any damage but it messes with him, enough to let me get up.

I take out the stick of dynamite and the lighter. Hungry gets up as I light the fuse, the determined look on his face is shaken but returns as he runs again. As I toss the stick he opens his mouth. The stick leaves my fingers and I back away. I watch as the dynamite enters his mouth. I notice as I fall to the ground where my gun landed. Hungry walks up to me, not feeling like he has to run anymore, and looks down. "So, you run out of tricks?" I stare at him in silence. "You're not with the Doctor, you'd know that Wondertainment toys don't break easy. Who are you with?" My silence continues. "Come on, say something! You're in no position to-"

Finally, my stalling comes to fruition, he stumbles back and grabs his stomach. "W-What was that? What did y-you do?" he falls to the ground as I get up, writhing in pain. "Why are you doing this, Why are y-?" Cut off by his own pain, I look down at him in silence surrounded by the alarms of the cars, I think about his question, why I'm here. "What did you do?" He looks like he's gonna cry, "The kid…" Now he is crying "The kid." He doesn't say anything else after that. I stay by his side until he stops moving, then a few more to be safe, the radiation has done its job. Looking around, I make sure that no one's left the building. I take a picture of his motionless body and grab more chalk. With a few symbols, I stop seeing his body, this should work for a few days, by that point most of those people should forget what I look like. I go to get the gun I dropped earlier and leave quickly.

The walk back is different, there are far fewer people and it's much darker. Most of the shops are closed, Cabreese's is open, my stomach grumbles, but the pizza in my fridge gives me an excuse not to enter. I find another passerby, in jeans and a black hoodie, the moment I look at him he gives me a glare that scares off my vision. When I reach my apartment, with its gray walls and white ceiling, I sit down on my bed. I send the image of his body to the person that contacted me, and a simple thank you is sent back. I go to check my door and see an envelope, a neat trick old friend, within it is $1,500. I go to my fridge and take out some leftover pizza, finishing it within half an hour. That whole adventure must've left me starved, I'm usually not that hungry.

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#hereisdado

Hey uh, I hear you're the guy to call when you need something uh, medicine related?