Radio Silenced - SCP Foundation

It was not the first time Scip had seen the inside of a Foundation interrogation room, though this was certainly turning into the longest time he had spent in one. Maybe. The dull hum of fluorescent lights and the lack of a clock on the walls made telling time tricky. Still, it had to at least have been a few hours now. Maybe.

I guess things could always be worse. The Foundation could try its hand at launching skips into the sun again.

As he sat at the metal table, he cheerfully drummed out a tune, stopping only when the door on the far wall opened. An exhausted-looking woman with a frown on her face entered.

"Dr. Belford," Scip said with a smile, waving at the new company. "Well, this is a nice surprise. I hope I'm not taking too much time from your other projects. Actually, perhaps you can tell me what I'm doing here."

Dr. Belford didn't respond. Instead, she carefully took her seat across the table and let out a little sigh as she placed a folder down in front of her. Scip continued to smile, waiting for a reply.

At least I'm not as tired as her. I hope she can get some rest soon.

"Scip," Belford said, "I'm not going to sugar coat it. You're infected with SCP-4560. Likely the most advanced case we have discovered."

She slid the binder over to him.

"Wait, what?" Scip chuckled. "Did Andrew put you up to this? I mean, if he did, a round of applause. This was dedication."

"This isn't a joke, Scip," Belford replied. "Through your show, we believe you may have infected an additional six hundred personnel. It’s the largest outbreak to date. Happened right under our noses."

I had over 600 listeners!?!

Scip shook his head with another chuckle and flipped open the folder's cover. Inside was the usual format of an SCP document.

SCP-4560 is a memetic infection observed in those who identify as male, ages 15 to 45, preventing them from publicly expressing negative aspects of their life to others through written, verbal or somatic means.

As SCP-4560 infection progresses, infected individuals eventually lose the ability to publicly acknowledge negative events in any way, and will actively deny such events have occurred to them, often attempting to redirect the situation by focusing on their accomplishments to that point or other measures of success.

As SCP-4560 enters late-stage infection, individuals not only are fully incapable of public acknowledgment of negative events or emotions occurring to themselves, but also those which occur to others.

Additionally, at this stage of infection, the individual is capable of generating new vectors of SCP-4560. Such vectors have included:

Notes of encouragement.

Thank you emails.

Messages left on voice mail.

Yikes. Good thing I'm not one of these poor souls.

Scip closed the folder and shook his head, once more with a chuckle.

"I appreciate the diligence, Dr. Belford, but I don't really see it. I'd think I'd know if I was infected by something like this."

"For god sake, Scip," Belford sighed. "Did you even read the file just now or were you distracted by the pretty pictures? No one infected tends to notice! On top of that, don't you think you're a pretty chipper guy for what you've seen?"

Scip tilted his head, smiling as he offered a small shrug.

"What are you talking about? I'm just a radio DJ. It's not like I'm jumping in the trenches with an MTF."

Belford sank in her chair, her eyes closed as she rubbed her temples.

"You were kidnapped," she said. "You watched as someone hijacked your show. Hell, you watched the god damn sky fall! Don't you think that should have, I don't know, bothered you a little?"

Heh. She is right, that was some crazy stuff. I'm pretty lucky to be where I am today.

"Sorry I'm an optimist, I guess?" Scip shrugged. "I don't really know what you want me to say."

"There is a difference between optimism and denial." Belford stood and collected the file, beginning to make her way towards the door.

"Right…" Scip paused, and then gave a small nod of agreement. "So, uh, how much longer am I going to be kept here."

"Not for much longer, thankfully," Belford replied, looking back over her shoulder.

Excellent!

"Well hey, that's great!" Scip sighed in relief. He paused for a moment as he had another thought enter his mind. "So, wait, what was all this for then?"

"Standard debriefing prior to asset termination."

What?

"What?" The smile briefly vanished from Scip’s face, returning as he began to laugh. "Okay, now I know you're jok-"

"4560 isn't curable, Scip," Belford interrupted. "All that's going to happen is that you're going to infect more people. Greater good and all that."

At least I'm not going to infect more people.

"I see." Scip looked down at his reflection in the table. The smile was still there. "Who's going to take over the show then?"

"Andrew, I imagine, assuming you didn't infect him too." Belford shrugged. "That's not really my department."

"Oh. Okay then," Scip sighed. "Well, better than it going down entirely, am I right?"

I'm right.

"Sure, Scip." A sad smile came to Belford's face. "For what it’s worth, I thought your show was pretty good."

"Thanks. Me too."

Belford reached the door. As she began to cross the threshold, Scip called out once more.

"How many people did you say got infected?"

"Over 600, last time I counted."

Scip nodded in satisfaction.

"I had a pretty big audience, huh?"

The door shut behind Belford without another word. The room falling silent save the hum of the fluorescent bulbs. Scip's smile then began to fade, slowly creeping downward until it became a frown.

Scip placed his head in his hands and began to sob.