Scp - 010 "Collars of Control"
Object Class - Safe
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Site-19, SCP-010 Testing Room
Dr. Sarah Kim stood behind the reinforced glass, clipboard in hand. Inside the chamber, D-9341—a gaunt man in an orange jumpsuit—shifted nervously as two guards fastened a heavy cast iron collar around his neck.
"Ready, Dr. Kim," called Agent Ramirez, stepping back and giving a thumbs-up.
Sarah nodded and turned to Dr. Pavel Orlov, who cradled the black, boxy remote. Its blue-white screen flickered, and the buttons looked like teeth in a mechanical grin.
"Frequency set for 010-2," Orlov said, voice thick with a Russian accent. "Proceed?"
Sarah took a breath. "Proceed."
Orlov pressed a button. D-9341 stiffened, his eyes going wide.
"Raise your right hand," Sarah spoke into the microphone.
Orlov tapped a sequence. D-9341's arm shot up, trembling.
"Lower it," Sarah said.
Another tap. The arm dropped.
D-9341's voice trembled. "I—I can't stop it. I'm not doing this."
Sarah's pen hovered over her clipboard. "Subject demonstrates complete loss of voluntary motor control. Emotional distress noted."
Orlov's fingers danced over the remote. "Let us try something… more advanced."
He twisted the frequency dial, pressed a new combination. D-9341's face contorted, his features shifting, bones subtly rearranging beneath the skin.
Sarah's eyes widened. "That's enough, Dr. Orlov!"
Orlov released the buttons. D-9341 slumped, gasping.
Chapter 2: The Debate
Later, in the observation lounge, Sarah paced.
"It's monstrous," she said. "Whoever built these—what were they thinking?"
Orlov shrugged. "The logo—workers building a pyramid. It is for labor, da? In old Russia, there were rumors of devices for control. Maybe this is one."
Agent Ramirez, arms crossed, watched the test chamber. "You saw what happened to the last owner. Mass suicide, but only after a struggle. Maybe the collars turned on him."
Sarah shivered. "Or he lost control. What if the remote fell into the wrong hands?"
Orlov's face was grim. "It already has."
Chapter 3: The Choice
Sarah returned to the chamber. D-9341 looked up, eyes pleading.
"Please, Doc. Don't make me do that again."
She knelt beside the glass. "I'm sorry. We're trying to understand how it works. We want to help you."
He shook his head. "You can't help. Not with that thing."
Sarah's voice was gentle. "If you could say something to the people who made this, what would you say?"
D-9341's gaze hardened. "I'd tell them: Just because you can control a body doesn't mean you own a soul."
Chapter 4: The Reflection
That night, Sarah sat at her desk, staring at the photo of the collar's logo—a pyramid of workers, faceless, climbing endlessly.
She wrote in her journal:
The collars make laborers, not people. The logo is apt, Dr. █████ said. But it's more than that. It's a warning.
She closed the file, the echo of D-9341's words ringing in her mind.
You can control a body. But you'll never own a soul.
End of Log