Interview PH-SC-TAN-45-1903 - SCP Foundation

Interviewed: Agent Sarah Crowely

Interviewer: Dr. ███████

<Begin Log, ██/██/1903>

I was cold. It was Dark. I sat in my cramped space for I don't know how long. He opened the door, as light flooded the room.

Dr. ███████: So, Sarah. Let's talk.

Agent Crowely: What's this about? Was I too rough last breach, or… what?

Dr. ███████: No no, nothing like that. We just need a few things for our records.

Agent Crowely: O-okay. What'd ya need?

He dragged me out of the room, and I screamed like they always told me to. I had an audience now.

Dr. ███████: We need an account of your situation prior to joining, using your words. That's all.

Agent Crowely: Why? You guys know my background.

Dr. ███████: Yes, yes. To be quite honest, this is just red tape. But, you never know. Something important might come up from what you say. Never hurts to be sure.

Agent Crowely: Yeah, I suppose. Not much to talk about though.

He opened the door to my cage and led me to the bar room. In front of me was a man. Large, fat, drunk. He boasted wildly of what he'd do to me. He laughed to my face.

He was convinced he was the one. I was afraid. I charged him.

Reported location:

████████; New York, New York, ██/██/1903

Dr. ███████: Give it a shot.

Agent Crowely: Well. I was adopted, abducted as a baby, whatever you want to call it, by a couple of folks. E████ and T█████ Crowely. They were brothers, working together in managing some kind of fighting ring. Dunno if it was legal or not.

[pause]

Probably not.

It wasn't really a good situation. They treated me more like a rabid dog than an actual kid.

Dr. ███████: I'm sorry that happened. Could you go into more detail for me?

Agent Crowely: Well, I don't know what you want me to say.

I went for his legs. His weight betrayed him as I swept them aside. When he hit the floor with a thud, I latched onto his back.

The audience cheered. They wanted blood.

Dr. ███████: Try.

Agent Crowely: … They taught me how to fight for as far back as I can remember. Called me the "Savage Slant" like I was part of some freak show, and threw me out to the ring to fight grown-ass men. When I was seven.

"The child of the snow, raised from the savage north of Mongolia" or some shit was their pitch. "Come and see if you could take her on."

Dr. ███████: You're… Japanese though?

Agent Crowely: Yep. Born in Musashi, raised here. Surprised you knew that.

But yeah, apparently it was easier to sell a Chinese monster to a bunch of bumpkins than a Japanese one. Go figure.

Dr. ███████: Huh. So, you said that you were seven when you started fighting?

Agent Crowely: Yep. Well, I think. I don't really know, that's my best estimate. I coulda been eight, coulda been nine. Could even be ten. Mind you, this was… what, 15 years ago? I didn't have any concept of time back then, so it's all just this big chunk of "I dunno".

Dr. ███████: Okay. We'll mark that down as 'unsure'. So, how did you survive? You said you fought against grown men? When you were just a young girl?

Agent Crowely: Yeah. And I won each time.

Dr. ███████: I'm sorry, what?

I wrapped my arms around his head and went for his eyes. As I bit off his ear, he rolled on the floor, trying to get me off. I spit out a chunk of him and went to his neck to take another. He lost when my hardened nails split his eyes.

Agent Crowely: I uhh… I won most of them.

Dr. ███████: H-how?

Agent Crowely: I don't know, I just did.

Dr. ███████: I'm… having trouble understanding.

Agent Crowely: I just… tried really hard.

I threw him aside, and he fumbled around blindly, trying to escape. He smelled of piss. My hands were coated in red. Before I could protest, the brothers wrapped the man-catcher around my neck and led me back to the cage.

My job was done, but I refused. I swallowed my fear. I charged.

Dr. ███████: Sarah, you realize how insane this sounds, right?

Agent Crowely: I don't know what to tell you. You have any idea what I did back then?

I threw them out of the ring and broke their back. I slammed them to the ground and gouged their eyes out. I spit and chewed off bits of their face with filed teeth. It's why… It's why my hands are… it's why they're burned like this.

Dr. ███████: It's okay Sarah, you don't have to-

Agent Crowely: No. You don't get to do this to me, and then expect me to stop. Every night, I was put in that fucking cage. They put me in there, grabbed my hand, and held my fingers over a candle to make my nails hard as rock. Then, they filed tooth and nail so I could fight with them. Almost. Every. Night.

And you wanna know the fucked up part? They made me enjoy it. Tearing off limbs was the only real "interaction" I had with people. My life was either "cage" or "fight." And I did my damned best in the fighting 'cause… it'd make my time in the cage go by easier.

That kind of thing… it fucks you up. It fucks you up good… Can I leave? I don't know what else you want me to tell you.

I ripped the catcher from his hands and charged them both. I ran into one and skewered him on the handle. I pried my head from the collar and made short work of the other. The audience left in a hurry. I ran.

I was free.

<End Log>

Closing Statement: Before Agent Sarah Crowely returned to duty, she applied for a position in the Site-45 therapy group, as Crowely has reported deteriorating mental health, including frequent alcohol consumption. Reassignment has been considered; however, she has remained effective in her position and has shown signs of improvement in regard to her mental health.