Interviewee: Walter Vaughn.
Interviewer: Dr. Jebediah Banesworth, Foundation Researcher, C.I.S Division.
Foreword: Vaughn was temporarily subdued and transferred to a secured facility shortly after discovery. Vaughn was restrained and interrogated in Interview Chamber 00-31-B.
<Begin Log>
Vaughn: Where the fuck am I?
Banesworth: Calm down. You are currently being held in a secure location. If you cooperate with our questioning, we might be able to help you.
Vaughn: Help me? You fuckers drugged me and dragged me down to god knows where! I have bloody rights!
Banesworth: Not here, you don't.
Vaughn: (Vaughn pauses for a noticeable period of time.) I… So what? You're just gonna kill me then?
Banesworth: I already told you, we're here to question you, nothing else. Would be a waste to drag you down here just to shoot you in the head. I don't want to keep you here any more than you do, and once we finish this up, I'll get you back to your normal life. If you don't lie to me.
Vaughn: Well, that's just fantastic, isn't it? And what'll happen if I don't answer?
Banesworth: (Banesworth sighs.) You misunderstand. This discussion isn't a necessity, it's a privilege for you. We have more efficient, and painful, I might add, ways of learning what we need to know. This is just courtesy.
Vaughn: Christ. Okay, okay, fine. What happens if I do answer? Will you let me go?
Banesworth: As I said, that depends on your answer.
Vaughn: That's… fine. Fine. Can we just… can we get started with the questions? So I can leave.
Banesworth: Sure. Just answer me honestly, and we'll get you out of here. (Banesworth clears his throat.) What is your name?
Vaughn: Seriously? You don't know that already?
Banesworth: This is for formal purposes.
Vaughn: Well, yeah, but you guys probably know everything about me already. My name, birthday, what I had for fucking breakfast…
Banesworth: Please, just answer the question.
Vaughn: Sorry. Walter. Walter Vaughn. By the way, that was a trick question. I didn't have anything for breakfast this morning.
Banesworth: Age?
Vaughn: Twenty six.
Banesworth: Now, Mr. Vaughn, you've been charged with multiple counts of vandalism, amongst other things.
Vaughn: I… yeah.
Banesworth: How many charges?
Vaughn: Oh god, I don't have a clue. Um… I want to say… five?
Banesworth: Actually, it's six.
Vaughn: Huh. Still don't understand why you're asking questions you already know the answer to.
Banesworth: As I said, formalities. Next question; what were you doing on the 17th of August, at 5:45 PM?
Vaughn: That was…
Banesworth: Thursday.
Vaughn: Yeah, not a clue. I had Subway for lunch, if that helps.
Banesworth: (Banesworth reveals a photo of a previous vandalization created by Vaughn.) Do you recognize this?
Vaughn: I… no.
Banesworth: Don't lie to me, Mr. Vaughn.
Vaughn: Fine. Yeah, yeah, I know it. I made it a little while back. It was meant to be a badass octopus, with fire coming out of it's mouth and everything. Would've been wicked.
Banesworth: Mmhm. (Banesworth reveals a photo of SCP-7797.) How about this?
Vaughn: No.
Banesworth: I told you already, don't lie to me. You're terrible at it.
Vaughn: I'm serious! I've never seen that in my life! I've seen eye stuff, sure, but nothing like that.
Banesworth: So you don't recognize this?
Vaughn: Nope.
Banesworth: (Banesworth pulls out his laptop, revealing footage of Vaughn creating SCP-7797.) Then what is this?
Vaughn: Is that… me?
Banesworth: Yes. Last Thursday.
Vaughn: What the fuck? I don't remember that.
Banesworth: The facial patterns match. That's you, I can guarantee it. Do you need eyedrops?
Vaughn: (Vaughn is rubbing his eyes.) No, I'm fine. Just allergies or something. Probably whatever weird ass chemicals you keep here.
Banesworth: Back to the topic. This is confirmed to be you creating this image, despite your denial. I need you to tell me why you created it.
Vaughn: I told you! I didn't fucking make it! That's got to be someone else!
Banesworth: Walter, I'm trying to help you here, but you're not making this easy. This is a matter of international security, I need you to-
Vaughn: I didn't fucking make it! Okay?! I don't know where the footage came from. Maybe some dumbass with photoshop tried to frame me. Maybe I did make it and I'm an amnesiac. But I don't remember ever creating something like that. What's the big deal, anyway? It's just some graffiti!
Banesworth: …you swear you had nothing to do with this?
Vaughn: Yes!
Banesworth: (Banesworth pauses.) Okay, okay. I trust you, Walter. But still, the evidence is hard to deny. You agree that this person does look like you, yes?
Vaughn: I guess. Looks like me, that's for sure. Like I said, might be photoshop or something. Christ, my eyes are killing me…
Banesworth: Are you sure you don't want eyedrops?
Vaughn: Honestly, I could probably use some.
Banesworth: Alright, give me a second. I'll go ask.
Vaughn: Sure, not like I can go anywhe- AUGH!!
Banesworth: (Banesworth quickly turns around.) What happened? Are you alright?
Vaughn: (Vaughn begins convulsing in the chair. A liquid substance, presumably blood, begins leaking from his eyes.) FUCK! FUCK! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?
Banesworth: (Banesworth turns to the stationed security agent.) Get a medical team in here, now! (He turns back to Vaughn.) Walter, are you okay? Are you in pain?
Vaughn: (Vaughn continues screaming.) FUCKING CHRIST! YES! MY EYES, THEY'RE BURNING- (Vaughn begins harshly coughing. Blood continues to leak from his eyes.) JESUS CHRIST, WHAT'S HAPPENING- (Vaughn bends over and retches out a black substance, later identified to match his DNA.) OH GOD! PLEASE, I… I…(Vaughn suddenly stops convulsing and looks up at Banesworth, his entire sclera and pupil now appearing to be filled with blood.)
Banesworth: I- Mr. Vaughn, are you alright?
Vaughn: … (Vaughn is silent.)
Banesworth: Mr. Vaughn!
Vaughn: Where is this? (Vaughn's voice and inflections are noticeably different.)
Banesworth: I… what?
Vaughn: Where is this?
Banesworth: I've told you, you're in a secure facility. Now, what is-
Vaughn: I do not care for your cages. Release this.
Banesworth: I… I can't do that. Who are you?
Vaughn: You attempt to restrain me? What is this place?
Banesworth: I'm not telling you until you tell me what the hell you did with Vaughn!
Vaughn: You… you restrict knowledge from me.
Banesworth: What? Yeah, I am! Tell me what you did to him!
Vaughn: Whom?
Banesworth: Vaughn! The person you're… in!
Vaughn: This vessel?
Banesworth: Christ, I-
Vaughn: (Vaughn begins looking around, before fixating intensely on the Foundation logo on Banesworth's coat.) You're them.
Banesworth: (Banesworth has begun backing away from Vaughn.) …What?
Vaughn: You prevent the King's expansion.
Banesworth: I… king? What king? Who are you?!
Vaughn: The One that Shatters Reality. The King of Scarlet Pain.
(Upon being alerted to the live recording of this phrase, the O5 Council immediately orders security towards the interrogation chamber and initiates a lockdown.)
Banesworth: I don't know who that is.
Vaughn: Then you are even less significant than your superiors.
Banesworth: How do you know who my superiors are? What in the fuck are you?
Vaughn: You would not comprehend, and I do not care to explain. Your conscious is limited, Jebediah. Mine is whole.
Banesworth: (Banesworth continues to back away from Vaught, who is still sitting at the table.) What… how- how do you know who I am?
Vaughn: You believe you are a savior, protecting against threats you barely comprehend. You are not.
Banesworth: No, I- we are. We're protecting humanity… How do you know all this?
Vaughn: Vaughn makes a high-pitched shrieking sound, causing Banesworth to visually recoil. Slowing the audio reveals that it sounds similar to distorted laughter. Do not delude yourself.
Banesworth: (Banesworth reaches the opposite wall and attempts to open the door.) What the fuck… why won't this open? Shit, shit… (Banesworth attempts to open the door.)
Door Keypad Terminal: This facility is currently under lockdown due to a potential infohazard breach.
Banesworth: No, no no no… Fuck! What the hell do you want?
Vaughn: Knowledge.
Banesworth: What? Why? And what the hell does that have to do with SCP-7797?
Vaughn: My eyes allow me to see, to experience. To learn. I have missed much since I was gone, and I am weak. And those it marks shall serve me well in regaining what I have lost.
Banesworth: Marks? Who are the marked? Wait… fucking christ… you mean the victims? What are you going to do to them?
Vaughn: Currently their numbers are not large enough for any meaningful change, but soon enough they shall serve their next use.
Banesworth: What use? What the hell are you going to do?!
Vaughn: (Vaughn tilts his head slightly.) This has gone on too long. You will not stop me. Attempt to defeat me if you wish, though my initiatives do not fail. Your time shall end soon enough. And I shall watch. (Vaughn stands from the chair.)
Banesworth: (Banesworth bangs on the door behind him.) Is anyone out there?! HELP! I'm fucking trapped! (He turns back to Vaughn.)
Vaughn: (Vaughn pauses for a moment, then begins repeatedly smashing his head into the desk.)
Banesworth: Oh… fuck. Fuck, fuck! (Banesworth runs over and attempts to restrain Vaughn.) Walter! Stop! (Banesworth is unable to restrict Vaughn as he continues to smash his head, though he begins to slow. A large dent has been made in his forehead, and he is bleeding profusely from multiple facial orifices. Foundation security personnel arrive outside the door but are unable to enter.)
Banesworth: He's fucking killing himself! WALTER! STOP IT! (Banesworth continues to attempt to restrict him to little avail. Vaughn begins slowing considerably, before eventually collapsing onto the ground, his blood pooling on the floor and table.)
Banesworth: Jesus fucking christ. (The lockdown on the facility is lifted and the security team enters to escort Banesworth as a medical dispatch is issued.)
<[END LOG]>
Closing Statement: Walter Vaughn expired due to self-inflicted head trauma. All involved personnel were provided with Class A amnestics, and Incident 7797-A was subsequently reclassified to Level 5 Clearance.