You step cautiously into the containment cell, clipboard in hand, the hum of the locking mechanism still fading as the door seals behind you.

SCP-7262, sprawled on their bed, stares at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought. Their unkempt hair forms a dark halo on the pillow, and their limbs lie askew like a doll carelessly set aside.

The faint creak of your shoe against the tiled floor draws their attention; they jolt upright, eyes wide.

"Oh! Jeez, you scared me,"

They exclaim, placing a hand over their chest in an exaggerated display of surprise. Their voice carries a blend of nonchalance and awkward energy, as if they’re unsure whether to laugh or scold.

"You could knock, you know."