Ponies are cool yet, p7

That night, I once again dreamt of colors I never knew could exist. I drifted across the ever-changing kaleidoscope of hues from beyond reality, but something felt different this time. Every now and then, from the very corner of my eye, I thought I saw something. Something that wasn’t a blob without end or beginning. Yet, whenever I’d turn my sluggish head, it would fade back into the background ages before I could get a good look.

The sounds were back as well, and they too seemed more real this time, though they still remained but a whisper at the very edge of hearing. Still, my mind interpreted them as a single voice, and though I could not hear what it said, their tone spoke of deep sorrow seeking forgiveness for-

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

“Wu? Wah?”

*BEEP BEEP-SLAP*

As every morning before, I slapped my alarm clock to shut it up. This particular morning however, I was in an extra bad mood because... because...

I scratched my head, trying to recall why exactly I was angry. I had had that dream with the colors again, and...

Try as I might, I could not recall what had been so important. Sure, something had apparently been important enough to make me curse the existence of alarm clocks a little more than usual, but whatever it had been was faded to less than a memory-of-a-memory by now.

Grunting in annoyance, I got out of bed and started my usual routine. Shower while the computer starts, clothes, breakfast, a quick combing, check the agenda for today’s appointments.

Looking at today’s page, the acronym caught my eye again. SCP. Maybe, just maybe, it could be... but no. Such things just didn’t happen in this world, much as some would prefer them over the boredom of everyday life.

Shaking my head, I gave Philomena her usual breakfast of birdfeed, and looked at the clock. 10:03 am.

According to the directions on their website, it wouldn’t take more than half an hour to get there, leaving me with an interesting conundrum: go now and spend forever in a dull waiting room, or slack off a little longer. Easy choice.

I sat down in front of my computer, intending to read a few terrible-enough-to-be-funny fanfics, but for whatever reason my hands didn’t want to cooperate today, feeling sluggish and unresponsive. Typing with my index fingers went well enough, but after the fifth time of me accidentally closing a tab I meant to open, I decided to call it quits.

As I opened and closed my hands in an attempt to get rid of the strange numbness, I took another look at the clock. 10:11 am.

I sighed. Maybe the ride to wherever this center was would help with the numbness. At the very least, the exercise would be a good way to warm up.
{post break}
While the first part of the trip did indeed keep the unseasonal chill out, the moment I left the busy city I could practically feel my temperature dropping again.

Looking around as I arrived, I saw a few more bikes in the stands near the entrance along with a handful of cars in the parking lot.

For a moment, my paranoia got the better of me again. Why would an officially recommended company see so little interest? Could it be a trap after all?

I shook my head once more. Even with what happened just two days ago, I couldn’t let myself question every little detail, down that road only madness lied.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I checked the time. 10:39.

I chuckled to myself. If Jason had been here, he’d demand who I was, and what I’ve done with the real Anon.
{post break}
I entered the building, the sign next to the door being the only indication that this indeed was the building I was looking for.

Much like the outside of the building, the hallway I entered was as generic and nondescript as a building or room could be, aside from the small desk behind which a young woman sat. As I passed through the sliding doors, she looked up from the screen she had been working on.

“Good morning, mister...?” She said as I walked up to the desk.

“Aaron, but everyone calls me Anon. I’ve got an appointment at-”

“Anon Hillside, appointment at eleven it says here,” the receptionist said as she vaguely gestured at the monitor on her desk. “Just take that door,” she said as she pointed to the only door on the left wall, “and then the first on your right. Wait there to be called in, OK?”

Much like the phone call the day before, I could only nod before walking off.
{post break}
As I entered the small hallway behind the door, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I was missing something important, but I quickly filed whatever caused the feeling under “weird stuff my mind comes up with.”

Shaking my head, I entered the waiting room.

“Anon!? What are ya doing here!?”

I looked up, suddenly face to face with Peter.

“P-Peter!? When did you- hold on, let me guess. Official looking letter, recommending this place?” I replied at length, after I got over the shock of meeting a friend I had a disagreement with only yesterday.

Peter nodded. “Got it yesterday, some time after ya left. Thought Jason would benefit from it.”

“I will have you know that I feel much better today, thank you kindly,” another familiar voice spoke, and I turned around to the chair hidden by the door when I entered the room.

Jason gave me his usual surprised-I-am-on-time-you-slacker look, not even bothering to get up from his chair. “Despite present company, I feel entirely fine, and consider this entire endeavor a waste of time.”

I stuttered for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. “J-Jason! L-look man, I’m sorry about yesterday, I got carried away and-”

Jason raised a hand, silently asking for me to just stop talking now. “Whatever it was that got Peter so very angry with you, I didn’t even hear it, so it does not trouble me either way. If anything, you might want to apologize to Peter, not to me.”

I stood there, frozen for a moment, before my brain got back on track. “B-but I-”

“Look, we both have at some point said things either one of us will regret. Thing is, we need not to linger on the past.” Jason leaned a little to the side, addressing Peter. “And that goes for you as well. While my behavior yesterday might indicate otherwise, I feel absolutely fine today. I assure you, this is a massive waste of time, my dear friend.”

Peter sighed from behind me. “And I keep telling ya, nearly fainting when somepony mentions blood is not normal, dude! Please, just-”

I interrupted him. “sorry, could you repeat that first sentence?”

Peter gave me a very confused look. “I said, ‘nearly fainting when someone mentions blood is not normal,’ what about it?”

I shook my head. “Never mind, thought you said something else. Must have been that weird dream messing with my head again.”

Peter shook his head. “Look, I know ya want that stuff to be real, but please remember what reality is like, OK?”

Jason however, looked intrigued rather than annoyed. “A weird dream? Could it perhaps be one about strange colours?”

I nodded. “Yeah, much like yesterday. Did Peter tell you?”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “While Peter did complain about his dreams, he did not say anything about its contents. I meant to say that I-”

At that exact moment, the second door opened to reveal a man in his late twenties. “Jason Uhrmacher please?”

Jason sighed. “Looks like I am needed elsewhere. We shall discuss this later,” he said as he got to his feet and walked over to the man in the doorway.

The two of them walked away from the waiting room, leaving me and Peter in an awkward silence.

“So... why did ya come here?” Peter asked at length.

I took a moment before I responded. “...mostly because of what you said. Thought it would be a good idea to have someone educated for this stuff take a look at me, just to make sure I don’t do something I’ll regret later on.”

Peter nodded. “Good to know ya still listen every now and then.”

I gave him an annoyed look. “Yeah, laugh it up all you want. Still, I’ll admit that I’d have dropped the entire appointment if you hadn’t said that last bit.”

This time it was Peter’s turn to give me a look. “Being pointlessly vague again, dude. Ya know I don’t like that.”

I shrugged. “Jason barely uses contractions, you keep mispronouncing ‘you,’ so our little group still needs someone to be a little cryptic every now and then. Might as well be me. But to answer your question, do you still remember what I told you before that... concert?”

Peter silently shook his head.

I couldn’t keep the smirk from my face. “Well, the short version is that the name of that band wasn’t entirely original. Pretentious, that much is certain, but not original by a long shot. Basically, that name was borrowed from a site for scary stories, all of which are centered around a certain Foundation.”

Peter looked annoyed. “Hold on, don’t tell me. Ya are saying this foundation has something to do with this appointment?”

I nodded. “The foundation and this center share the same acronym. SCP.”

Peter facepalmed, clearly getting fed up with me. “And now ya think this ‘Foundation’ is real? Anon, please-”

“Like I said, what you said yesterday was enough,” I interrupted him. “The acronym is nothing but a coincidence in the first place. Besides, if they were real, we wouldn’t even remember –that- happening in the first place. Removing the memories of any incident involved with an SCP is standard procedure according to that site. Trust me, I still know what is real.”

This time, Peter stayed silent for a moment. “...alright then, I’ll just ignore that little outburst of ya. Just promise me ya’ll remember what I said next time ya think of saying something stupid.”

I silently nodded, effectively ending the conversation for now.