Request by @RoyalArii

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️
This SCP is called the "Insult Box" for a REASON. This chapter will have heavy insults and lots of swearing. Please proceed with caution.

It's been weeks of therapy, weeks of me being taken from my cell, just to be thrown in a room with some lady who would do a few relaxing sessions and I'd be sent off to my room again.

I didn't know what I needed the therapy for, all they said was it was related to an SCP I would soon be working with. What SCP would make me need therapy before I see it? It left a constant confusion clouding my mind.

I was currently in one of the therapy classes when a couple of guards came in the room, whispering with the Therapist, Doctor Grenasi. She walks over to me, explaining it is time for me to finally meet the SCP I have been prepping for two months to meet.

I follow the guards, excitement coursing through my veins. I'll finally get to know why I needed the therapy. Although, it seemed more like anger management to me. "Whenever you get worked up, take a deep breath and count to ten before letting it out. Do it until you are calm once more."

It made no sense why I would need to know that. I didn't have any anger issues. I shrug it off as we pass by the surrounding cells, passing many scientists. As we grew closer to the cell, more and more people were sending me almost regretful glances. Why?

I'm shoved in the room with the door quickly closing behind. I walk over to the table in the centre of the room, sitting in the chair. I look at the little grey box sitting alone on the table. This is what I needed the therapy for?

"D-7452, please touch SCP 735." I do as I am asked, confused what it will do. I hear a sudden whirring sound, similar to when you start up a desktop computer. I lean back in the chair as I wait for something to happen.

A sudden voice filters through, seeming to come from the slit in the box. It honestly looks like it should be a CD player.

"So some new shit-ass person was sent in here?" It scoffs, an arrogant aura surrounding it. I raise an eyebrow at the words. What did it call me? A "shit-ass" person.

I let out a snort at the insult, finding it hilarious. What the fuck is a shit-ass person. "You find that funny, slut? Shut your whore ass mouth before I shove my dick in there to shut you up." Instantly, I shut my mouth. I've heard that exact sentence before.

My eyes widen at the change of voice. Can this fucking thing know about my past? I swear to fucking God, I know who's voice that is.

I shake my head, crossing my arms. It didn't bother me much, it was just shocking. "You know, mimic some dude from my past isn't that hurtful. Honestly, it was a common occurrence for that and similar things to be said to me." I smirk as I lean towards the box, feeling powerful against it.

"You can't do shit to me." Alright, that may have come out cockier than intended but if it will get the message across than so be it.

The box is silent for a short while, as if it's trying to think of what to say. I roll my eyes at the silence, leaning back in the chair once more and throwing my feet up on the table. "Speechless?" I ask.

"Oh shut up you bitch. I'm well aware my insults mean nothing compared to those from mommy and daddy. Or how about those from your best friend? What did she call you again? Ah, right. A slutty excuse and a waste of material. God could have made something better but he made you instead. She's disappointed to have ever talked to you, she felt pity for you because you were always alone."

I close my eyes and lean my head over the back of the chair, face parallel to the ceiling. I continue to listen to his insults, none of them denting my thick skin I've managed to develop. After a while, I grow bored of just sitting and listening to him try and insult me.

"Are you done yet?" I ask, standing from the chair to stretch out.

"What?" He asks, a surprised tone hidden in his voice.

"I asked if you were done insulting me. I'm getting bored and hungry. Besides, it's obvious nothing you are saying is doing anything to me. So it's pretty pointless for me to stay here and listen to you babble on and on. I quite frankly don't care what you think of me." I turn to walk to the door, leaning against the wall as I wait for it to open.

"Of course your fat ass is hungry. You are always hungry. Now be a dear and sit down, we don't want a fatty to get any bigger." I raise an eyebrow as I look down at my body.

"Are you seriously calling me a fatty? Look at me, you dimwit! If anything, I'm slightly malnourished. The foundation doesn't do the best job of feeding us." I'm honestly growing annoyed by his relentless attempts of insults.

It's not even the insults so much as how inaccurate he is. I mean, you can see my ribs when I'm not wearing my orange jumpsuit. And he calls me a fatty. I scoff, exciting the room as soon as the door opens.

"Honestly, we thought you would have lost it. Not one person can leave that room without attempting to harm the box." One of the guards explains. I let out a short chuckle as I shake my head. "Some things you grow used to. It just so happens I was born to one of those verbally abusive families who didn't give two shits about you. That, plus someone spread a rumour at my old high school I slept with them and then people started adding onto it, saying I slept with them too. I think they were jealous I never would have slept with them, honestly."

The guards chuckle at my explanation, quickly leading me to my cell. "Anyway, due to your results, you will most likely be seeing SCP 735 again soon." I groan at that.

"Could you manage to allow me to have some form of entertainment, at least? Like a book or a pad and pencil. It gets boring just sitting and listening to him drone on."

The guards share a look before directing their attention forward again. "We'll see what we can do."

~~~

As the guards told me, I was once again going to meet the obnoxious Insult Box. I hoped they pulled through and managed to convince the scientists in charge of the operation to give me something to do.

As soon as I entered the cell, I let out an excited squeal as I see a drawing pad and a few pencils. I race forward and start to draw, brushing my arm against the box as I sketch out another of the SCPs I've seen before. If I recall it correctly, his number was 173. He was sorta funny looking in my opinion.

"So the bitch is back." The boxes default voice rings. I look up to it, letting out a hum of agreement before returning to my drawing.

"Couldn't resist me, could ya? Hm, strange. Considering out last meeting I would assume they would have moved on to the next subject. Although, not one person has left this room without having a meltdown. You are... Different, in a way. I sorta like you."

If he were a human, we would definitely be smirking. That makes my mind wander to what if we actually were a human. What would he look like? He'd probably be some attractive rich man who only cares about himself... Did I seriously just say if he were a human he would be attractive?

Dear God, kill me now! Why the hell would he be attractive if he were a human? He's just a snotty bastard that likes to insult people. He wouldn't deserve to be attractive.

"Hey dumbass, are ya listenin to me?" He snaps, immediately pulling me out of my dazed state. I blush a bright red, eyes wide. I quickly cover my face with my hands, not even sure if he is capable of seeing.

"Sorry I was... Thinking." I quietly apologize. He scoffs, his little box body moving the tiniest bit. It catches my attention. I pick him up and turn him over to look for any way he could have moved. I don't see any wheels...

"Hey! Put me down you fucking whore! Don't get all handsy with me, bitch. Now put me down, gently might I add." I roll my eyes as I comply with his orders.

"For a small box, you have a big ego." I laugh, pushing him back slightly to rest my arms on the table.

"For a human, you aren't a complete dumbass." He mutters quietly. I gasp, a bright smile gracing my face. "Was that a compliment... From the Insult Box? Why, I feel special."

"Yeah, special as in retarded." He sneers. I smile nonetheless, still happy he complimented me.

"Whatever you say, boxy boo." I hum, smirking.

"DON'T FUCKING CALL ME THAT, YOU DISGUSTING PIECE OF FLESH."

"You're warming up to me, admit it."

"AM NOT!"

"You sound childish. And are too, silly."

"You sound just as childish, stupid."

"You avoided the question, means it's true!"

"DOES FUCKING NOT."