Chapter 14: Permit

Crouched next to the living room couch, D stared emptily towards the floor. "Am I Harold? Or am I D?" The question plagued his mind.. Was he meant to come to terms with these memories? Were they even his to begin with? How could he have forgotten something so life changing?

He turned to look over at Bancroft's lifeless body a few feet away from him. The blood around the dead man's caved in head had begun to coagulate, forming an abominable crusty mass that locked his head in place. The dreary atmosphere surrounding him began infecting D's mind as well.

For the first time, D actually felt saddened that someone near him had died. Despite his raging hatred for Bancroft, he couldn't help but respect the man's devotion. He also hated how right Bancroft had been in knowing that C would be used to kill D. What the man had not expected was that he too was on C's kill-list.

D wondered if his room was under surveillance. "There's no other way they could have known, right?"

Realizing that pointless contemplation would get him nowhere, D mustered up the strength to get back on his feet. He wanted to stretch and release all the tension that had built up inside him, but felt awkward doing it next to Bancroft's limp body. Instead he walked over to the bathroom and washed his hands and face, removing any pieces of rubble that had embedded themselves into his skin.

Wiping all the water away he walked back into the living room, determined to move Bancroft's body to a more suitable location. D walked into the living room to find 4 men in hazmat suits clearing up the scene. 2 of them picked up Bancroft's body and placed him in a body bag, slowly dragging it out of the villa.

D wanted to question them but knew he wouldn't get any clear answers. The men had Chaos Insurgency logos printed onto the left breast of the suit, signaling to D that C's killing of Bancroft had something to do with the Insurgency.

He still couldn't think of a motive for the Insurgency to kill Bancroft. He knew that Bancroft was a key member of recruitment of new test subjects and his experience in the field had allowed him to excel to a higher position in a short amount of time. So why kill a key member of your new project?

The only theory D could come up with is that his villa was bugged and they heard Bancroft planning to kill C. Lost in thought, D didn't even notice that the men had finished cleaning the floor and had left. The clotted blood that had painted the floor was now gone, leaving behind only the small cracks the floor had suffered.

D lay down on the couch. Even though he had been beaten up by C, he felt no pain. A side-effect of his strengthened body due to multiple SCP related experiments.

"Professor Harold Banks," D thought. "I wonder what kind of person he would have become if it wasn't for that kid." D had set himself apart from his past life. He was glad now that his memories had returned, but he wouldn't let them overshadow his current sense of self. Sleep dulled his senses as he lost himself in a dream.

He used to be Harold. A healer.

But now he was D. A killer.

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D slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes to clear away the gratifying 6 hour sleep that had energized his body. Quickly gulping down a glass of water, D rushed out of his villa. He still had no idea how he would defeat C, and what he would do after that. But he knew someone, or something, that might help him out.

D's villa was located a few hundred metres from the main building the Insurgency operated from. Walking through the melancholic hallways without a thought gave D an odd sense of nostalgia. It felt the same as the Foundation, except this time there were no guards directing him.

After walking for what felt like 20 minutes, D finally found himself in front of a large oak door. The empty corridors on either side made the door seem larger than it actually was.

Catching his breath, D knocked the door. He waited a few seconds until being told to enter. A coarse voice greeted him and asked him to take a seat.

"Did you know that Bancroft was killed?" D did not hesitate to question the man seated before him. "Straight to the point, huh." The man chuckled. An odd response to hearing about the death of the man you hired.

"I know he died. I was the one that gave the order."

D was not shocked. He had figured as much since the man's response to hearing about Bancroft's death was lacking sorrow.

Seeing the unwavered look on D's face, the man asked. "Well Harold. How can I help you today?" D ignored the snarky use of his real name and did what he came here for.

"I'd like it if you could arrange a meeting for me. I want to meet SCP-4253 for the last time before C kills me."

Irritation invaded the man's composure as he snarled. "The diving suits? Alright, I'll do what I can since you've helped us quite a bit. But are you sure you want to waste your time with those things? They haven't moved since we got them here. It's almost as if they never existed, despite being right in front of us."

D did not reply. He just waited for the man to give him a time for the meating. The man tried desperately to hide his contempt as he filed for a permit for D but the grin on D's face told him that he wasn't as good at it as he thought.

I'll let you know when you can meet them. Until then stay in your villa."

D shut the door as he walked out with a victorious smile. Back inside, the man kicked his desk. His inferiority complex was on an all time high since D hadn't acknowledged his question.

He picked up the phone near his desk and called C. "Yes boss?" C answered.

"Tell me this, C. Why the hell did Harold know that you were going to kill him in 2 days? Wasn't it obvious enough that you had to sneak up on him and end his life?" The frustration in the man's voice was clear. C had twisted a rather simple mission into a duel of equal footing.

"Listen up, punk. I might gloss over this if you make sure that man suffers. His attitude gets on my nerves, so make sure you slowly pick him apart.

"I would have suggested to finish him off quickly, but -"

"I got it, boss. No need to explain any further." The man did not mind when C interrupted him. He knew that his greatest creation would get him results.

"I can tell that he's cooking up something in his head, so be careful when you fight him. Don't get too excited or he might pull a fast one on you." Those were the man's final pieces of advice. He trusted C enough to leave it at that.

"Alright Mister Fischer." C said with a sudden respect behind his voice. "I won't disappoint you." With that the call ended.