Flinch

Dr. Sorts had a boring day. Supervising two pairs of D-class transporting 173 from the testing chamber back to its cell was actually a highlight compared to the red tape and paperwork of his morning. They had barely gotten halfway down the hall when the intercom blared up and the doors locked. "This is an alert! SCP-076-2 has escaped containment. Site 19 is on lockdown until further notice." Great. This day couldn't get any better.

"You four, place the blasted thing against the wall and keep staring at it till this stupid lockdown blows over. You know what it does and this hallway is locked down, so any funny business will kill all of us at the end of it."

The four D-class prepped SCP-173 against the wall with the finesse that 4 prison inmates carrying a statue all day have. The clunk as it hit the floor was enough to prompt Dr. Sorts into turning around to give them a good yelling about art, safety and not pissing off malicious statues. Not a second after 173 was dropped the metal door facing the wall ripped open, and a seething man climbing through the hole in the metal was staring at the five chunks of meat in front of him.

"Oh god dammit, what else!" Sorts shouted out in frustration, eyes locked onto 173 as the D-class scrambled for safety. Able cut down the first as he struggled with the handle into one of the side hallways. The second Tried to run past him as able cleanly chopped his head off in mid step. The third and fourth ran towards Dr. Sorts, reaching for the other end of the room. They didn't make 5 steps. 076 walked towards Dr. Sorts. He had to think fast.

"Don't kill me or you'll die!" Sorts called out, moving backwards with SCP-173 still in his vision. Able smirked. "And how would you do that?" Sorts was picked up by his coat and tossed into the ground. He refused to blink or look away from the statue behind Able.

"Tell me how you would kill me!" Able yelled, rearing up for a fatal swing at Dr. Sorts. He quickly blinked as the blade came down, he heard a crack and then a squelch all in that moment. He opened his eyes. 076's head lay between his legs, ripped from his shoulders. 173 was kneeling towards Sorts, with Able's corpse on the floor behind it and its hands outstretched, grasing the doctor's neck. "I wasn't going to kill you." Sorts remarked, eyes wide, staring into 173's painted face.