Life and Death - SCP Foundation

One minute.

He feels himself growing. It hurts, but he can take it. The real pain hasn't even started yet, anyways. He knows this pain all too well, he has felt it every time someone turns that key. He looks around, with glassy young eyes. These doctors, they don't know what pain is. They would leave him alone if they knew what it was like.

Five minutes.

It really hurts now. He can feel bones moving, setting themselves into place. He feels muscles contracting, then expanding again. The growth spurts are definitely the worst part. He struggles to stand, hoping that he can get both legs the same length long enough to prop himself up. Stranger things have happened.

Ten minutes.

The bones are really cracking now, growing at the most accelerated pace of the cycle. The growths spurts happen quickly and randomly. Hair grows on his face, and all around him there are doctors, taking notes. He feels humiliated by their presence, and the pain. It is the worst here. The pain is unbearable. And death is so very far away…

Twenty minutes.

Every bone in his body aches. He can't even think through this pain. He just curls into a ball and whispers to himself that it will be over soon, and that the pain won't last forever. He doesn't believe it. These doctors, with their clipboards, they would never let him be free. They would just keep turning the key, every day, to see if something new could happen. But it never would.

Thirty minutes.

The pain is less now, and the growing has almost stopped. But now came the part he dreaded the most. He watched his body slowly accrue wrinkles, his flesh become soft and round. Getting old was the hardest part, because he had to watch himself die.

Forty minutes.

The decay was happening faster now. He could remember back when he was at the other place, they would laugh at him here. They called him names and sipped scotch while he slowly died in front of them. They were monsters. The doctors were monsters too, but at least they kept their judgements to themselves. He winced as warts started growing in.

Fifty minutes.

He could feel the end coming, it would be over soon. He watched as his hair fell out, followed by his teeth. He had never gotten to wear dentures, so gums were all he got. Didn't matter. Even if he experienced a lifetime of hunger, they wouldn't feed him. All they ever did was watch.

Sixty minutes.

Closer now. He felt death approaching, and he was grateful. Soon he could return to rest, untroubled by this pain. His body was a mass of wrinkles now, with age spots and moles dotting his chest. His eyes were cloudy, and he couldn't hear the scientists now. Not like they had ever spoken a word to him anyways.

Seventy-five minutes.

It would be over soon. He could feel his body starting to break away. It was all over. Once more, the ordeal was over.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust