The man strode away from Sam and sat across the table with the movement of a refined gentleman: Clean and precise with no wasted motion, however this movement happened in a flash. Sam stared blankly at where the man's before, his brain hadn't even registered the man's movement.
Currently, Sam's head was full of static and order like an office in chaos: clerks running down corridors with stacks of folders, some shouting for solutions, others frantically stuffing documents into cabinets while a handful tried to keep everything from collapsing into static noise.
They both sat in silence, each lost in their own world. The atmosphere lingering between them wasn't the awkward kind of quiet, it felt almost like the hush that follows after heavy rain, soft and oddly comforting, the kind that invites serenity rather than fear.
Seconds bled into minutes until Sam finally let out a heavy sigh, he lifted his head and closed his eyes while his body lean back onto the che chair. A sight of someone trying hard to swallowed and process something in their mind.
Compared to his state before, now there's this air of steadiness coming from him: a small and determined flare, it'd perfect if not for his dumb expression showing clearly. "Alright, I will keep all the things you said in mind."
What followed was Sam scratching the back of his head. "Is there anything else you want to say about me? What hobby should I take? What diet I should do? Hell, might as well throw love advise in there hm?"
The man obscured face turned toward Sam, the unseen eyes seemed to be analyzing him inside out pieces by pieces. After a bit too long of a pause, the man chuckled and replied. "Good, I like those burning ember inside your eyes." The man nodded approvingly, he continue. "There are a lot of things I'd like to talk about, but i'm afraid i won't be able to talk deeply about more things now, unfortunately our 'bonding' time are just a few more minutes away before we'll have to come to a stop."
Sam eyes went wide, both of his eyebrows raised. "Oh hell no, are you really doing this to me now? A damn cliffhanger? Our deal ain't over yet! You don't get to shove all that lecture down my throat and be done with it!"
"Who said it was over? You can still ask plenty of things, just not the heavy stuff. Sorry kiddo, I can't do anything about it." The man shrugged and continue. "This is for your own good."
Anger heated into Sam's chest, hot and immediate, but he swallowed it back down. Lashing out now would be childish and utterly useless.
'Hmmm...' Sam pondered for a moment upon the bizarre development shift, he can't really put his finger on it but something about the abrupt change felt strangely off, why say so much only to cut it short like this?
Sam leaned forward, watching every micro-shift: the tilt of the man's shoulder, the way his fingers flexed on the armrest. He hoped for a tell, a crack in the mask of facade, but there was nothing to read as the man gave nothing away easily.
'If words wouldn't come out of him,' Sam thought, speculation popping off in the back of his head. 'maybe the right question would work? There has to be a reaction or a hint, let's try this.'
"Hey, I'd like to ask a few more questions. Do you mind?" Sam said carefully.
The man chuckled in genuine amusement, watching Sam theatric. "Sure, go ahead."
"Just treat this question with a grain of salt, like something out of my ass. I don't know if i'm reaching, but I got a a strange feeling like someone's currently pointing a gun at your head, are you okay?" Sam asked bluntly.
The question made the man flinch, albeit in a blink of an eye that most people most likely missed to spot the fraction of a second change. Then as easy as the flip of a hand, he immediately went back unmoving as if struck with ice.
Sam could've sworn he caught that barely perceptible flinch, but as if nothing had happened the man relaxedly said. "Interesting question," he mused, tapping his finger on the table and continue. "i'm perfectly fine, Sam."
"Anything else piqued your curiosity?" The man asked back.
Sam felt his gut told him the man was struggling with something behind that placid voice, there was no outward cue beyond the tapping finger, but there has to be something.
'Seems like there's something he refused to tell me, hm alright I supposed I won't push it.' Sam thoughtfully considered the situation at hand, he continue. "Yes, when can I leave this place?"
"Since I've said most of what I intended and our time's almost up, i'll get you out of here with a snap now or you can leave now on your own accord, just say the word and you'll go." The man replied almost lazily as he adjust his hat and continue, this time asking back. "Say Sam, are you nervous?"
"You know damn well I'm nervous right now, goddamn it! I hate being chased by time and of whatever unspeakable thing going on right now." Sam spatted, the gears in his head shift and turned, he hesitated for a while, then launched the next question. "Will I be all right? Will anything happen to me when I leave?"
The tapping of the man index finger on the tabletop began to quicken just a bit, a soft, impatient tick. "Hmmm... There won't be any mortal danger to your body. But the moment you step away from this place, you're on your own. Brace yourself, it won't be a smooth ride."
Though Sam can't see his face nor guess his body language, his intuition gut feeling rang again, it somehow felt like the man was... Frowning? Like, struggling from something. But upon closer looks there's no physical indication of him being so.
"Got it," Sam said, nodding. "Is there anything I can should do to brace whatever bullshit i'm about to face?"
"Don't. Trust. Anything." The man's tone dropped and each word landed like a hammer. "Rely on yourself, trust your instincts and your feelings."
The man throws both his hand in the air as if surrendering helplessly. "Hell, even if you meet 'me' again you shouldn't trust me."
Sam let out a low murmur. "Damn, sounds like this is going to be another rough ride."
"Is this 'something' related to whatever happened after me passing out?" Sam asked, head tilted.
The man let another silence stretch, refusing to answer.
Sam took the silence as assent. He tried a different tack. "Alright let me rephrase that: if you talk about it, will anything bad happen to me or you or this place?"
The man smirked in some sort of shimmering anger. "No, not really. At worst it's an inconvenience you see, I just don't like that... Let's say 'bastard', he has no manners." He spat the last word like an old irritation.
Sam blinked. The man had just cursed—a crack in the otherwise gentlemanly veneer. "Huh... the way you mentioned him reminds me of some evil noseless wizard I read about once." Sam said, amused despite himself.
"A noseless what?" The man asked, sounded genuinely puzzled.
"Never mind," Sam waved it off.
"Last question: will I meet you again?" Sam asked.
"If fate allows it," the man replied, smiling gentle as a promise. "I'll meet you again."
Sam stood and stretched, taking in the wide, impossible scenery one last time. He let a long breath out, like he was emptying a pocket of worry. "Well I'll be damned, alright then i want to leave now."
"Very well." The man rose too and straightened. "When I snap my fingers, you'll be pulled back to your body. Don't be afraid and always stay alert,remember what I said: don't trust anything. Got it?"
Sam swallowed. "I'll keep that in mind."
"One more thing," the man added, leaning forward. "Adapt to the present, don't travel a new road the same way you walked the old one, or you'll get lost, worst case, you'll die sooner."
Sam nodded, taking the words in. "Goodbye, Sam. Till next time."
*SNAP!*
Sam vanished like he'd never been there in the first place, the man smiled and shook his head almost sadly. No one could say what he was thinking.
Then everything in the space hummed greatly from a sudden tremor.
*RUMBLE!!!*
The air trembled as if an earthquake had struck the heavens and earth, the man looked up and for a heartbeat his hidden eyes showed: narrowed, bright yellow, wild with restrained anger. The expression passed in a flick, the brightness sliding back into shadow beneath the brim of his hat.
He muttered under his breath, voice low and rough, "Tsk! Bloody hell, when can these old bones ever catch a break? Sigh... looks like I need to move again."
*SNAP!*
Another snap and as fast as he did it, the man was gone, and the breathtakingly impossible view returned to emptiness.
Sam POV:
Sam's senses reassembled around a kitchen counter and a bell over a door. The cosmic panorama winked away and, in its place, his uncle's pizzeria stood exactly as it should: the portrait of Uncle Patrick above the kitchen door, photographs of customers tacked to the wall, the same cracked linoleum.
Nothing seemed to be altered or out of place, except now Sam's head felt like someone had dropped a heavy weight into it.
"Woah. Okay. Something's not right here." Sam's voice came out high and brittle. He lurched forward on unsteady legs, arms half-raised as if to brace himself. He scanned the room with paranoid quickness.
"Hey hey! This is not funny man! You promised to send me back!" Sam yelled at the top of his lungs, panicking and paranoid of everything. His eyes darting around vigilantly, double—no, triple checking everything.
Before Sam could get any answer from the mysterious man, Uncle Patrick came rushing from the outside through the front door, the bell rang as soon as he's getting inside. He still wore the usual dirty apron with flour and cheese stains on it but his face wore a confused and bewilderment as soon as he saw Sam acting like he's in the middle of a landmine.
"Sam! What the hell are you shouting for?? You want me to wake the whole neighborhood or something?!" Uncle Patrick's bellowed.
Looking at the familiar figure, Sam's eyes went wide open in almost a circular full moon in shock and surprise. "Uncle Patrick...?" Sam murmured to himself in disbelief.
'No... It can't be, is this another illusion? Am I still in that man's domain?' Sam's mind run at full speed, unconsciously ignoring uncle Patrick.
'But what for? My instinct tell me that man won't do something as sick as that, especially after his long lecture' Sam thought race some more, but then—
"SAM!" Uncle Patrick's voice pierce through like thunder from beside him right on his ear.
Sam immediately ceased all of his thought and snap his head toward his right, what he saw was uncle Patrick's angry expression, but the gaze that locked into his own eyes tell another story: it shows deep concern for Sam wellbeing, like any parents would if their child got hurt.
Sam eyes blinked slowly while his head trying to wrap around what's currently happening, fortunately it didn't take long for him to somewhat regain his composure again.
"I'm sorry for startling you uncle Patrick, I-i just have a lot on my mind right now. I promise I won't do it again." Sam replied, although far from completely calm and relaxed, his voice was steady enough.
Uncle Patrick eyes were narrowly looking at him up and down, as if searching for something. Then after a moment he ask with suspecting tone, "Boy, you're not on drugs are ya?"
Hearing that, Sam was taken aback, shock. Him? Taking drugs? There's no way in nine realms he would do such thing, becoming a druggie was something Sam frown upon, he hate it. Even if not for his personal beliefs of hating it, his mom would definitely beat the living crap out black and blue to hell and back of him the moment she knew about it.
Just even imagining it made him unconsciously shudder in fear, sandals and belt are the bane of any children no matter who's parents using it.
"What!? No! There's no way i'm taking drugs or anything along those lines, you know I hate that stuff." Sam replied defensively and rightfully so, call him anything but being a druggie? It's one of many things he couldn't accept.
Uncle Patrick took a step back and Crossed his arms, his eyes still looking at him narrowly with one of his eyebrows up. "You're not lying to me are ya boy? Cuz if so, be prepared to be in the mercy of my rolling pin."
"No! I swear to god, just look at me, i'm not under influence of any kind of drug. If that's not enough, I could even bet my whole salary on it!"
And then the room got silence for a few seconds, the silence though seems brief felt stretchingly long for Sam. Fortunately, Uncle Patrick break the silence with a heavy sigh that fills the pizzeria and scratches his head as if in resignation.
"Alright, I believe you. Seeing you going so far to bet your salary, I could tell you're telling the truth." Uncle Patrick replied and snorted in a somewhat still didn't believe him but did so anyway kind of thing.
Hearing that, Sam exhaled in relief, at least that's done now. Then onto the next matter, how can he tell the "reality" he's currently in right now an illusion or not? He can't just snap his finger and hope for something to happen, or even checking every single thing he came across, that be too inefficient and time consuming.
Suddenly—
Rumble... Rumble...
The sound of Sam's stomach yelling out loud reach his and uncle Patrick ears, it's begging Sam for the love of everything to eat something. If Sam said he doesn't get embarrassed, he'd be lying because on his have there's a faint hint of hint appearing on his cheeks.
"Heh! Turns out maybe you're just hungry huh?" Uncle Patrick said understandingly and looking at Sam like he just solved the puzzle. He shakes his head and said, "Haish... If you're hungry just say so, no need to make a ruckus like that. Tsk tsk tsk."
Without waiting for Sam's response, Uncle Patrick turned around and immediately head to the kitchen. From inside the kitchen he shouted, "Oi Sam! We only got pasta and meatballs! Is that okay with you?"
"Yeah it's okay! I'm good with anything! Thanks uncle!"
Uncle Patrick didn't reply back, but the sounds of kitchen utensils prattling and kitchen exhaust could be heard from the dining room. Sam sit down on a nearby couch, far from relaxing, his eyebrows knitted together and his expression serious, he's still trying to figure out his current problem.
"Hm... I don't think I can do much for now. Let's wait and observe, from that I'll see where this is going." Sam muttered to himself.
With nothing else to do at the moment, he slip one of his hand into his coat searching for his phone. Without searching for long, his hand found the phone inside and grabbing it out. A black touchscreen mobile phone, Sam touch the power button on the side and it immediately lit up, showing a blue background with times on the top screen.
Sam pondered for a while and hummed to himself. "Definitely not the real world I think, i'm sure if I remember it correctly: my phone is dead dead."
"Well you know what, let's browse the scp wiki. Maybe it could shed some light into my situation and I could prepare better with more information if there's unexpected thing jumping at me."
Sam open his internet bad began typing "SCP WIKI", it loads the page for about 3 seconds and viola! The wiki page appeared on top. He clicked on it, and when the page finished loading, what greeted him was the usual famously known scp in general but they're not what he's looking for.
He clicked the the stripped icon on the top right, it shows "list of scp", "credits", "about us", and "Customer Service". He clicked on the list of scp option, and then what it show was the same scp he saw before in the home page, even as he scrolled down there's no new entries or anything.
"That can't be right, there are numerous scp no?" Sam muttered confused.
He tried again and again to refresh the page and going back and forth, but there's still no changes whatsoever.
"Maybe the site went down or something?"
When he want to try the other site, uncle Patrick surprised him by setting down the pasta and meatballs on the table loudly. Immediately snapping Sam out of his research.
"Here you go, now eat a lot. Don't let me hear your stomach throwing a tantrum again, got it?"
"Thank you, uncle. Much appreciated."
Sam grab the fork from beside the plate, he wipes the drool rolling down from the corner of his mouth, he stab the meatballs with his fork, but when he's about to take a bite, a faint yet clear robotic voice rang inside his mind—
[Don't eat that, Host.]