Therapy for the Lizerd - SCP Foundation

| Site-19, [REDACTED] |

He didn’t know who had ordered it. If it was Clef, Moose or one of the O5s. Senior Staff Psychologist Dr. Simon Glass strolled down the hallways, ever-so closer to his encounter with the dreaded lizard.

Anyone who worked any length at the Foundation had heard of the reptile — large, bloodthirsty, full of hatred. And Simon sure as hell knew of the damn reptile. It broke out on any other Tuesday, causing massive structural damage to the facility in its wake, not to mention the utter loss of blood and organs. He had lost too many nights to this feral beast; too many to remember.

He flashed his credentials at the checkpoint. After a preliminary scan, Simon walked past the many layers of solid, heaving metal between the beast’s enclosure and the rest of the facility. They closed as soon as he passed them. With each step he took, he felt his heart skip just another beat. His heart was palpitating, he was pretty sure.

The O5s must’ve gone mad. Taken over by some cognitohazard. Why else would they assign him, a simple psychologist, to take on the lizard? Out of curiosity? Was it some twisted sense of humor, an attempt to quench their undying thirst for blood? But why his blood? Had he done something wrong? He did vote for the Ethics Comittee to be granted more executive powers this year.

Simon Glass took a deep breath in and out. The air flowed freely through his lungs. His heart palpitations grew calmer again. There was nothing to worry about. He had spent too many years at the Foundation. Seen some rough stuff — and also heard about it.

As a psychologist, at the Foundation nonetheless, he’d heard of some wild stuff. It was difficult to deal with much of what his patients had dealt with in the past. Especially when those patients had forgotten most of the sensitive details. For a half of them, he couldn’t help them at all, regardless of what he tried, them continuing their duties. The other half either died in some horrific containment breach, spilling their guts out, were abducted and tortured to the brink of insanity by a rival agency, or their minds collapsed into a fine, metaphysical slurry. He felt sorry for each and every one of them.

Simon took another deep breath in and out. There was no time to feel sorry. This was his chance for retribution. His upcoming encounter with the lizard was frightening, but also a chance to avenge all of those people he couldn’t save. But not through force, but through the power of compassion, decades of experience in the field of psychology, and an innate knowledge of how people — and anomalies — ticked.

He strudded toward the observation chamber’s door, more determined than ever before. He nodded at the guard right next to the door, who nodded back at him. This was his chance. To finally set things right.

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[BEGIN LOG]

Dr. Glass sits down at a table. He is located inside the observation chamber, surveying SCP-682’s containment chamber. He lays out spreadsheets in front of him.

Glass: Good afternoon, SCP-68—

SCP-682 snarls.

Glass: okay.

[END LOG]

Closing Notes: Dr. Glass has requested immediate cancellation of all future SCP-682-related interviews.

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