The man in the chair struggled against his bonds, trying to shout something but failing due to the gag in his mouth. A guard stood in the corner of the room, his nose buried in a checklist. "Let's see…" he muttered to himself, "One 6x6 meter room, check. Walls lined in special Telekill alloy, check. Blast door sealed, check. Subject beaten and restrained…" He glanced over at the other man's attempts to break free, and smirked.
"Check. Subject bound and gagged, check. And one guard on duty armed with standard Foundation weaponry. Check." He looked over at SCP-631, who shot him a glare. "Well, mister, it looks like everything is all set and accounted for. You're tied up, and I get to spend the next eight bloody hours in here. Alone. With a man who can alter reality on a whim." The guard heaved a heavy sigh. "Brilliant, isn't it?"
SCP-631 ceased his efforts and muttered something through his gag.
"Yeah, whatever it is you said, you can say it again."
At that moment, the blast door slid open, and a man garbed in a long black coat stepped in. The guard leapt to his feet, reaching for his gun as the man looked around the room. "Yes, yes. Everything seems to be as they told me it would be."
"And just who would you be?" demanded the guard, aiming his weapon at the intruder. "I don't recall you being on my list of cleared personnel, and I highly doubt you're a member of senior staff."
"I go above senior staff," said the man coolly as he strode over to SCP-631. "I go above O5 Command. Above your administrator." He looked closely at the bound subject's face. "So I'd drop your weapon, if I were you, and just let me do my work."
The guard discharged several shots into the intruder, who barely flinched. "And please, do listen to what your told. I don't want to be in here any longer than I have to be." He ripped the gag off of SCP-631, who grinned maniacally.
"Whatever you're thinking about doing, I am ordering you to stop!" shouted the guard. "I've been ordered to keep this man from leaving this room, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to stop y-" He began choking on his own tongue at this point.
"Must he have written you so poorly?" asked the intruder to nobody. "Honestly, why did I… but that's not the point." He turned to SCP-631 and pulled out his gag. "I'm more here to deal with you."
"Oh, you're here to spring me?" asked the subject, smiling again. "It's about time. I've only been in here for a few days, but I'm already sick to my stomach with this place. C'mon, undo the bonds, and let's blow this place."
"James Doctrine," said the man. "SCP-631. Third attempt. Able to make any literary reference work to his advantage, captured in the midst of massacring a small town in Quebec. Current status, -21."
Doctrine gave the man a cock-eyed look. "Just what are you talking about? Come off of it, let me out of here."
"Sitting at three votes. A shame really. Personally, I rather liked you. I can see where they're coming from, though; You're overpowered, have Mary Sue-ish tendencies, overkill containment procedures. In my opinion, you're not that bad, but the others don't seem to like you, so it's fallen to me to do the job."
"Whaddaya mean?" demanded Doctrine. "What job?" A look of panic came into his eyes. "Hang on now, hang on now. I've read your archives, I know all about decommissions, how you kill off the ones you don't really like. I'm not letting it happen, do you hear me? Pro libarte! If a nation values anything more than freedom, it will lose freedom! Open sesame!"
The man sighed, as he pulled an object from within his coat pocket. "If there's one advantage to having Telekill in here, it's that you don't get to make things any harder than they have to be. Regardless, no. I am not talking about decommissioning. I am talking about deletion."
"What the hell is the difference?"
"Decommissioning, you still get to have an article. Deletion, you go away forever. Now shut up and let me work." He placed the small object on 631's lap, and stood back. Behind him, the guard stumbled over and clutched the stranger's coattails. He glanced backwards, and sighed. "Oh, fine. You can have your voice back for now." He waved his hand, and the guard stopped choking.
"What are you doing?" he whispered, pointing to object on Doctrine's lap. "What is that thing? Who are you?"
"I thought I'd answer that already," said the man, staring straight ahead. "I'm deleting him." He twitched his fingers slightly in Doctrine's direction.
SCP-631 began to shake slightly. "What do you mean by deletion? This isn't some sort of 1984 crap, is it? What are you, Big Bro-" He cut himself off with a scream as he began to violently rock back and forth in his chair. His head started jerking violently from side to side, regardless of the straps that bound his neck in place. Eyes bulged out of their sockets as fingers gripped the arms of their chair. A pool of sweat began to appear on the floor.
"Just to give you an idea of how this will work," said the man to the guard, "I advise you look at the clock." He waved his hand, and one appeared on the wall. The guard looked over at it, and saw the second hand suddenly come to a stop.
James Doctrine let out a mighty scream as his body began to blur, becoming more and more out of focus every moment. Small bits of it began to flake away as he thrashed against his bonds, in a manner resembling a seizure. His hands broke free and he reached down to undo his feet, only to find them already gone. Bits of gibberish flew out of his mouth, sounding mostly like a series of numbers too garbled to extract any meaning from. The guard instinctively hid behind the man, and whispered, "You're killing him."
"If I was decomming him, I'd be killing him. As it is, I'm only getting rid of him." He looked down at the now pale-faced guard. "He's been through this twice before, you know. The problem is, nobody remembers it."
"What the hell do you want from me?" screamed SCP-631 as his torso began to vanish. "I'll say anything you want, anything at all! Release me! Let me go! Do it to Ju-" The clock moved forwards a second.
And then he was gone.
The man strode over to where the subject and chair had been, and picked up the object. To the guard's eyes, he seemed much less tense now. "See? Less than a moment. Truth be told, I really wanted to use 055," he tossed the object up in the air here, "as part of a decommissioning. You know, make it part of his person, have him vanish from memory. Thought it would make for a good little story. But nobody would go for it. So I just decided to go for a bit of a personal fantasy while I deleted the page. Makes things a little more interesting on my part, see?"
The guard looked flustered for a few moments, and then said, "Look, I don't know who or what what you are, and quite frankly, I don't care. Just… just go. I want to get back to my job. Get a new assignment and forget this ever happened. Can you do that?"
"Naturally," said the man, turning to leave. "Of course, you'll be gone in a few seconds, too. I only invented you so I could have someone to talk to during this little fantasy." He strode forward for a moment, then paused and turned. "Would you say I'm a little weird for wanting to do that? Talk to someone while I have a fantasy?"
"Go."
"Fine." The man left, and the room vanished.
*Taken from mibbit*
Taximonay: Alright. 631's gone. I hope you lot are happy.