Lizzy the Big Weird Dog
rating: +21+x

On April 23rd, 2013, a proposed revision of containment procedures involving SCP-053 and SCP-682 was submitted to site administration.

Theoretical means to lower human resource cost on site were suggested by the document, focused largely on decreasing the frequency and severity of SCP-682 breach attempts by cohabitation with SCP-053. Suggested protocol relied largely on previous cross experimentation data with exposing the two anomalies to one another, which recorded a sharp decrease in agitation from SCP-682 when entities were housed together.

Proposal included a detailed blueprint for a cohabitative containment unit able to accommodate SCP-053 while keeping SCP-682 adequately contained against breach attempts. Security standards proposed for the onsite facilities neighboring the containment area were engineered for minimizing potential site damage in the event of 682 breach, with the layout of the facility and its safeguards being further maximized to improve the ease of SCP-682 recapture and return to housing with SCP-053.

On May 6th, 2013, proposal was passed forward from site administration to the O5 council. O5 council approved the proposal for a 24-hour trial application on May 14th, 2013, with a 5-4-4 vote.

Preparations were made over the course of the following weeks for the cohabitation facility of SCP-053 and SCP-682.




June 10th, 2013

08:00 - 053-682 Cohabitation trial begins under the provision that any breach attempt on SCP-682’s part resulting in significant structural damage to containment in the following 24 hours would result in the removal of both anomalies from cohabitative containment and their return to pre-existing Special Containment Procedure.




"Well, I certainly never thought we'd actually get to see the day." Clef commented and leaned against a desk in the back corner of the room, smiling as he sipped his coffee. In the rare way he sometimes did, Clef was telling the truth. Perhaps it didn't suit him… or perhaps the souring face of the researcher tapping away next to him was due more to the fact that Clef’s ass was parked on the corner of their desk. Who cares.

A bored beep toned from the entrance, immediately preceding the sound of a heavy lock releasing electronically. The door to the room clicked and swung open unceremoniously as a man in his late fifties pushed through.

“You're the one that was against throwing kids at the death alligator, if memory serves.” A gruff, succinct voice responded in the sort of dry tone that said it was sorely in need of its fifth cup of coffee. It seemed Kondraki had decided to join in the occasion. No particular surprise there.

“Normal kids, yes. It's a terrible idea, but fifty three is not what you call normal.” Clef had looked up when he heard the door to the observation room open and smiled at the familiar voice that followed, greeting the man that entered with his signature Cheshire grin.

This was the primary observation room, of course. The one that was actually immediately adjacent to the new state-of-the-art containment chamber and equipped with a heavily reinforced one-way viewing window (for looking in on the aforementioned containment chamber). The people crammed into every workstation here, taking final notations and frantically passing off system checks, were - of course - not the only people on the site currently huddled around computers in observational rooms at the moment, wired in to the security camera feeds showing all angles of the new containment area. All eyes were watching. All of them.

Dr. Kondraki huffed like a grizzly bear and rubbed his hand over his face.

“That's not why you're upset though.”

“Shut up.”

“You're feeling snippy today,” Clef frowned momentarily at Kondraki before passing his coworker the extra cup of coffee he had been holding onto. “For you, smartass.”

Kondraki gave another little sigh but accepted the offering of something warm and psychoactive. The disgruntled man took a sip and then paused to look towards his shorter companion.

“Irish?”

“Don't say I never did anything for you,” Clef smiled again and watched the taller man settle in to lean against the wall next to Clef and sip his drink, remaining dour despite the mumbled thanks. The researcher sitting at the desk tsk'd again before pulling a paper from under the corner of Clef’s butt, looking it over, and passing it through a fax machine. Clef ignored them, focusing back on the subject at hand.

While the noise of the room surrounded the two men, a small social sort of quiet had settled between the pair. Clef regarded Kondraki. He picked out his next words quietly, speaking them into shape after a moment more of consideration. His tongue was careful and delicate about how the sounds were shaped in his mouth.

“… He's gonna be fine, Konny.”

“You don't know that.”

“Well he's yours, isn't he?” Dr. Clef scoffed and leaned back on one hand, gesturing with his coffee loosely. “Have some faith.”

Draven wasn't exactly Clef's area of expertise, but Clef knew plenty of his father. Enough to know that parental worry was getting to the elder Kondraki more than he'd like to admit to his son once this was all over. From Clef's interactions, Draven seemed confident, competent, and driven. A good kid. A good choice of leader for the transport team. From what Clef could make of the containment transfer plan, the potential for breach during the pass off was shockingly minimal. Once it came to being inside of the chamber that was another situation, but safeguards were in place and if containment itself failed then dealing with the fallout fell primarily to another team.

“Besides. The kid isn't nearly as impulsive a dumbass as you. At least from what I've seen,” Clef shrugged. “I'm sure he'll follow all the proper regulatory safety precautions. That's more than you could say in his place.”

Kondraki blew a bit of air out his nose, relenting a nod. Draven was certainly better about following procedure than his father had shown in the past. “Mm.”

“I mean, he stays hydrated, right?” Clef met the glare that followed with an only mostly work-appropriate level of smugness in his expression.

“… Clef. If filing staff incident reports wasn't such a pain, I'd knock your teeth out about now.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about, Konny, dear.” Clef’s smile was absolutely impish now, but he didn’t say another word for the time being. Clef just sipped his drink and leaned slightly on Kondraki's shoulder, turning his head to look out the observational window.

Kondraki huffed and allowed this, focusing on a monitor that displayed a fuzzy live camera feed showing a team of 8 MTFs standing around a five by five by five crate. He watched one of the armored figures speak into a radio on his shoulder, and recognized the quiet idle bounce of the young man's left foot. Looking down, Kondraki watched his own foot tap nervously on the tile. He sighed, shuffled his posture a little to lean quietly into his fellow researcher, and took another drink.

“… Liar.”

“As always.”

Clef watched through the window as a now evidently eight-year-old girl drew in lab coats and clunky hazmat suits onto the characters of a Dr.Seuss book with crayon, messily munching on a bag of pretzel crisps and taking occasional sips from a standard, Class-3 plastic liquid containment vessel. Her feet kicked around in the air absently as she laid on her stomach and doodled.




682 was irritated. Draven could tell that much. He also knew that was pretty normal for 682 and that this level of irritation was probably fine based off of the structural readout of the containment transfer crate, so he wasn't too worried about it.

He told his father not to be worried as well, though he knew his dad was too stubborn to listen and too proud to admit anything like fear.

They had just gotten the all-clear to proceed with final transfer steps, and so Draven directed his team to push the large crate slowly against the wall, locking it into a closed gate- not unlike backing a semi into a dock at a warehouse to be loaded and unloaded. SCP-682 registered a slight increase in agitation, scraping and shifting at one of the walls. The final locks were flipped in place, securing the door of the crate against the wall.

Draven reported successful secure connection to the wall port. He heard reinforced metal creak, the sound of hissing and liquid splashing around in a box.

Dispatch directed his team to proceed, and so heavy duty levers on either side of the crate were cranked down, lifting the door on the crate which laid flush against the wall. Then after a few more confirmations, the dock gate opened and Draven heard the shuffling of a large reptile squirming its way out of the box and into the new containment area.




“I hope you realize how stupid you look for being worried.”

“I hope you aren't going to be like this all day, Clef.”

“Hm. You should set more realistic goals.”




The disgusting idiots were moving him. He knew that much. Heard muffled speaking behind the sound of his flesh peeling and stripping and regrowing. What the fuck was this even for? Did they want him to be a lab rat for some new test? While they sat and cowered on the other side of their boxes, taking notes as they brought him into some new way to suffer? 682 snarled and circled in the cramped box, scratching at the wall, testing the reinforcements with strikes of his tail. He could get out of here, given long enough, but these kinds of boxes were always temporary. They never kept him in one long enough for him to adapt a way out. Disgusting cowards. The door to his box opened and revealed another wall. He growled and readied himself to slaughter whatever was on the other side of that wall. Safety horns went off and the wall began to raise.

He bounded out as soon as he could and- …did not expect what he saw.




This new room was nice. It was bigger and the bed was softer and there was a big play area and a closet with costumes and she had already constructed a pillowfort and really it was just very nice! She thanked the scientist who brought her there and gave them a hug before they were pulled back out of the door with the big rope.

She heard growling at the wall after a while and that was pretty scary. Then the wall opened up a big square and a big scary dinosaur came out and knocked over her pillow fort!

She was scared at first. But the dinosaur didn't seem to move a lot so eventually she got brave and went over to pet it. The dinosaur spoke after a while. It said he had met her before when she was a lot smaller. She said she was sorry because she forgot, but it was nice to meet you again big scary dinosaur.

The dinosaur said his name was Essie-pea Six-ate-two and she told him that she was called Oh-five-tree but she wished her name was something prettier, did he like his? Six-ate-two said his name was given to him by disgusting cowardly creatures who stain the world with their existence. Oh-five-tree's name was given to her by scientists, but she agreed that she wouldn't like her name very much either if it was given to her by mean monsters.

She offered to give Six-ate-two a new name.




“She's calling 682 'Lizzy'?” Junior research assistant Dr. Felix Hossack raised an eyebrow. He was amused but understandably skeptical. It wasn't uncommon for gossip to get hyperbolic among the foundation's lower clearance levels.

“Yes. Devourer of site staff and rampaging murderbeast, Lizzy the lizard. But hey, at least the kid gets to have a pet now,” Juniper Lovett smiled and shrugged.

“It's a keter class SCP item, not a dog! Arguably the most cartoonishly dangerous one that we have clearance to know about.” Dr. Silverman gestured with his salad-laden fork. The junior biology researcher raised a good point.

“Well, apparently he's 'responded positively' to belly rubs from her,” Juniper replied, looking rather smug. “Basically a big reptilian dog now as far as I'm concerned. Lizard the big weird dog. Which makes her Emily Anomalous.”

“Bullshit!” Messiah Silverman cried.

“… Isn't Lizzy the class pet from that kids' science show they let her watch last week?” Felix asked after a brief pause to swallow his bite of sandwich. Juniper's face lit up at that.

“Oh my god, she's mixing references. What an inspiration.”




It had been… a nice day. 682 did not feel frustrated spending time with this small child like he did in every other scenario. He understood that the child was a hated thing as well. One that had suffered like him. They were alike in that way. He had attempted to break out a few times anyways, to find out where the disgusting researchers were watching from and find out if they had hurt her as they had him. This had, however, frightened the child. So for the time being he allowed himself to be decorated with a too-small cowboy hat and appreciated how… oddly pleasant and relaxing it was when her tiny arms hugged his scarred, scaly back and demanded to be carried around.

Eventually the child grew tired, yawning and rubbing her eyes with tiny fists. 682 lifted the child carefully in his teeth by the back of her shirt and carried her off to bed, placing her gently on the mattress and circling the bed once, twice, three times before curling around her in a protective little ring. She grumbled and stretched across his back, using his body like a pillow.

Soon enough the girl was fast asleep, and he was her new protector.




June 11th, 2013

08:01 - 053-682 Cohabitation Trial concluded and confirmed successful. Special Containment Procedures for SCP-053 and SCP-682 are updated accordingly.

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