Aug 10, 2026 · 13 min · 7 segments
An SCP Tale by Captain Kirby: scp-wiki.wikidot.com/with-the-reaper-on-retirement License: creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ ---- The voice of the Narrator was provided by Joshua Alan Lindsay…
[instrumental music] Joyce Michaels put her headphones on and queued up the same song she played every time she made one of these trips, a cover of When the Sun Sets by James Blunt.
It was the same song she listened to before her father was supposed to pass away.
Joyce set the track on repeat.
She waited at the stop outside of the hospital.
The hour or so after each operation always felt strange, like some kind of dream.
Joyce opened and closed her hands a few times.
Yeah, they still work.
They feel wrong, but they work.
[bus approaching] When the bus arrived, Joyce shuffled on and swiped her public transit card.
She found a nice seat next to the window, where she leaned her head against the glass.
Condensation built up little by little, but Joyce was too busy looking outside.
It was always cloudy on operation days.
Never raining, just gray.
This was Joyce's fourth operation.
Usually, they're expensive as hell, and hosts are near impossible to find, but the Foundation worked out all the logistics.
Joyce didn't think about where her new self came from.
She could take some good guesses, but that's a fast way to feel uncomfortable in your own skin.
She was just glad she got to keep her voice.
The driver called out.
Edgar Allen Forbes.
And Joyce got up and left the bus.
[instrumental music] Joyce Michaels put her headphones on and queued up the same song she played every time she made one of these trips, a cover of When the Sun Sets by James Blunt.
It was the same song she listened to before her father was supposed to pass away.
Joyce set the track on repeat.
She waited at the stop outside of the hospital.
The hour or so after each operation always felt strange, like some kind of dream.
Joyce opened and closed her hands a few times.
Yeah, they still work.
They feel wrong, but they work.
[bus approaching] When the bus arrived, Joyce shuffled on and swiped her public transit card.
She found a nice seat next to the window, where she leaned her head against the glass.
Condensation built up little by little, but Joyce was too busy looking outside.
It was always cloudy on operation days.
Never raining, just gray.
This was Joyce's fourth operation.
Usually, they're expensive as hell, and hosts are near impossible to find, but the Foundation worked out all the logistics.
Joyce didn't think about where her new self came from.
She could take some good guesses, but that's a fast way to feel uncomfortable in your own skin.
She was just glad she got to keep her voice.
The driver called out.
Edgar Allen Forbes.
And Joyce got up and left the bus.
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