To reactivate SCP-173's ability, Luo Shu needed to see it again.
And that wasn't a problem.
As the newly appointed caretaker of SCP-173's containment unit, he had scheduled visits every two weeks.
But this opportunity came sooner than expected.
That afternoon, following the Site Director's orders, Luo Shu began his first official duty.
Technically, it had only been a week since SCP-173's last re-containment—too early for cleaning.
But the Site Director wanted to give Luo Shu some practice runs before the real thing.
Luo Shu didn't mind.
The sooner he reactivated the neck-snap ability, the better.
The D-class dormitory was basically another death row block, filled with violent convicts.
In San Quentin State Prison, no death row inmate had been executed since 2005—but plenty had died in fights.
Some even joked that if you just locked the inmates together and let them kill each other, you wouldn't need an execution chamber.
Luo Shu wasn't taking any chances.
Reunion with "The Sculpture"
Armed with a broom, mop, and shovel, Luo Shu arrived at SCP-173's containment unit.
Compared to Keter-class containment, this one was relatively simple—a double-door isolation chamber, like a biohazard quarantine room.
After entering the first door, security sealed it behind him.
Only then would the second door unlock, leading to SCP-173 itself.
This ensured that even if someone screwed up, the statue couldn't escape—unless both doors failed at once.
Luo Shu scoffed.
"With all these precautions, how the hell does this thing still breach containment?"
At least SCP-173 was only Euclid-class.
When it escaped, it only killed a few people—not exactly world-ending.
He opened the second door.
And there it was.
SCP-173.
Standing in the corner, motionless.
"Long time no see, brother!" Luo Shu grinned.
Just seeing it again made him giddy—he was about to regain his power!
But his smile vanished the second he stepped inside.
The floor was covered in filth—blood and feces, mixed together in a foul-smelling sludge.
According to the Anomalous Item Catalog, this was normal.
But Luo Shu was baffled.
"You're a concrete statue. HOW ARE YOU BLEEDING?!"
He sighed.
"At least this job's only twice a month."
Otherwise, it'd be absolute hell.
The Power That Won't Return
As he cleaned, Luo Shu didn't bother staring at SCP-173.
And SCP-173, traumatized from their last encounter, didn't dare move either.
Meanwhile, in his office, the Site Director watched the feed, utterly baffled.
"This D-class is… talking to it?"
"And it's just… letting him?"
He'd never seen anything like this.
Luo Shu, meanwhile, was scheming.
He needed to touch SCP-173 to reactivate the "O" in the catalog.
But with cameras everywhere, he had to make it look natural.
Finally, as he mopped near the statue, he casually patted it.
"Hey, buddy, mind moving? I need to clean under you."
SCP-173, of course, didn't respond.
In fact, it couldn't.
Ever since Luo Shu entered, it had been frozen stiff—not by sight, but by fear.
Last time, its neck-snap failed.
That humiliation had left psychological scars.
Now, just seeing Luo Shu made it lock up completely.
Luo Shu, however, was frustrated.
The "O" in the catalog was still an "X."
"What the hell?!"
He smacked SCP-173 again.
"Are you deaf? MOVE!"
SCP-173's internal monologue:
"Why are you hitting me?!"
"Just leave me alone!"
The Site Director's voice crackled over the intercom:
"Ahem. Skip the hard-to-reach spots. You're done."
He'd seen enough.
In all his years at Site-19, he'd never seen someone bully SCP-173.
Luo Shu left, grumbling.
The moment the door closed, SCP-173 finally moved—clawing at the walls in frustration.
Luo Shu, still in the airlock, heard the scratching.
Remembering the Catalog's note—"When no one is inside, scraping sounds are heard"—he opened the door again.
SCP-173 instantly froze.
Its internal scream:
"PLEASE JUST GO AWAY!"