SCP - 011 "Sentient Civil War Memorial Statue"
Object Class - Safe
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The sun had just dipped behind the Vermont hills, painting the sky in lavender and gold. The old Civil War memorial stood at the town square's center, granite gleaming in the fading light. At its base, Anna Collins—caretaker, Foundation liaison, and the only person SCP-011 truly trusted—unpacked her cleaning kit.
"Evening, Anna," came a voice as soft and gravelly as shifting stone.
Anna smiled, glancing up. The statue's eyes, once cold and unseeing, now glowed with a gentle warmth. "Evening, Sam. You're looking a little dusty today."
SCP-011—Sam, as Anna called him—shifted slightly, the musket at his side scraping softly. "The birds have been persistent. I did not shoot at them."
She began scrubbing at a stubborn patch of lichen. "I noticed. You've been very well-behaved."
Sam looked away, face carved in perpetual solemnity. "I do not wish to frighten anyone. Not anymore."
Anna paused, looking up. "You know, people aren't scared of you. Not since you stopped firing at them."
A faint smile seemed to flicker across the granite. "You were never scared of me."
She laughed. "I suppose not. You always seemed more lonely than dangerous."
As Anna worked, Sam watched the stars begin to prick the sky.
"Anna," he said quietly, "do you ever feel… out of place?"
She set down her brush. "Sometimes. Why?"
"I was made to remember the dead. But I am not dead. I am not alive, either." He looked at her, eyes glinting. "You are the only one who talks to me."
Anna sat on the pedestal, legs swinging. "You're more alive than most people I know. You think, you feel. You even joke sometimes."
Sam's voice was hesitant. "I… feel something else, too. When you are near."
She blushed, glancing away. "You know, the Foundation's psychologist says you're as smart as a genius."
Sam's reply was gentle. "I do not care for tests. I care for you."
Anna's heart skipped. "Sam…"
He raised his musket, not in threat, but in salute. "I wish I could walk with you. See the world beyond this square."
"You did step down once," she teased.
He chuckled, a sound like pebbles tumbling. "It was terrifying. And wonderful."
Anna finished cleaning, packing up her kit. She lingered, reluctant to leave.
"Will you be here tomorrow?" Sam asked, almost shy.
She nodded. "Every day. I promise."
He gazed at her, stone features soft in the moonlight. "I am grateful for you, Anna. I do not know what I am, but you make me feel… human."
She reached up, touching his hand. The granite was cold, but she felt warmth all the same. "You are more human than most."
As the town square settled into silence, Anna walked away, glancing back to see Sam watching her, musket at his side, a sentinel with a heart of stone—and something more.