Faceless
rating: +30+x

It was a simple matter really. Just a few authorization codes he nabbed the last time he got out and….there it was. For all their security, the Foundation was essentially just a secret prison that excelled in covering their tracks. If you knew the right people, you could use their tricks against them. This time it was looping the cameras. It's kind of interesting really, all you have to do is stand still for a few days and that's what they expect you to do.

He adjusted his hat and locked in the codes. That was their one big flaw he thought, cocking his head at the unconscious guard slumped against the console. They expected the same. They expected their containment procedures to work and if they didn't, they at least expected them to break with a huge flourish and bang. They never check for problems until after the fact. He stuck his hands in his pockets, sauntering out into the halls of site 17.

His walk was uneventful, as he knew it would be. With each turn, the guards in the previous hall changed. With each step, the cameras moved over their blind spots, missing him. He had planned this too long to let a minimum security site stop him. And finally, here he was. Nodding to the content looking guards, he opened the door to the containment cell, letting it softly shut behind him. His skin rippled, letting a rare display of emotion affect him as he walked up to the old man. This time he had decided to do the Foundation a major favor, as it had come to a point that this issue could no longer be ignored. Oh it had been noted before that "God" couldn't see other SCPs. But he was special.

His skin changed, his form taking on the appearance of an old wizened man. There it was, finally recognition in the sage's eyes. His hands tightened around the neck of 'god' and squeezed. The fear in the abomination's eyes as his world slowly went dark was nothing short of blissful for the faceless man. Poor thing. Wiping his hands on his jacket, he once more strode out into the halls of Site 17.

This time there would be an alarm, but he would be back in his cell before that ever happened. People would talk, they would devise plans dealing with the death of God. It would be fun to watch at least, though if they knew what really happened they would create new containment procedures, and that wasn't something he planned on letting happen. His walk back was once more without incident. At this point researchers and guards were running to 343's cell, hell some of them would probably even take their own lives when they saw what happened if they had been corrupted far enough. But unfortunately that show wasn't for him. Just one last thing to do.

There was only one guard left patrolling the hallway, one guard to notice the man in the crooked fedora and gray suit stroll into view. He tilted his hat and answered the question as he always did, knocking the guard unconscious before he could radio it in. He would be fine, waking up in a few minutes to tell them the story about the mysterious man completely calm in a sea of chaos. And SCP-600 would be standing still in its room as always, with no features, nothing to identify itself except for the identity of those who approached it. After all, it really was just Nobody.

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