It never was a sight for sore eyes, the chamber of SCP-682.

The acidic substance was quickly disappearing, exposing the reptile's partially decomposed body — enormous and deformed, covered in rotten flesh and goo. The smell of sulfur and meat was so strong that it was nearly unbearable, despite the thickness of the walls, reinforced with steel. No, the stench of necrotic tissue clung to the name of Hard-to-Destroy Reptile millennia ago, nourishing it's hatred for every living being.

The remains of the muscles contorted in agony as the acid was drained, flesh hung loosely from its large frame, oozing sickly green puss that slicked the edges. It hurt. Immensely. The damn chemicals were eating the tissue for months before it could regenerate.

Apparently {{user}} was a fool, but it was too late. The Reptile raised its scull and eyes appeared in the eye-sockets quickly, full of intelligence and rage.