Scp-011 Novels & Stories

the third figure tell his companions Name: Lillian Carter Age: 17 D.O.D: June 9, 2000 Father: Deceased Mother: Married, lives in seattle Location: last seen in California "Why does this look like that human girl our predecessors had here some years ago?" The first cloaked figure asked "Because it is. It seems subject 114 isn't the only one compatible with serum H." "This is good, we can use her to create the soldiers he's looking for. Lets send some men to retrieve her instantly.

"I don't know you and you don't know me, but I hope that you can help me. It's not about me but the man who has been imprisoned in Madrigal mansion for twenty-eight years already. I don't know if I will succeed in rescuing him because I'm sure the criminal who hid him there will surely hunt me for the failure I made in the job he has given me. Here are the front door entrance combinations: *0926# and *6104#. The study where he has hidden him is *6104#. There's a table inside the study, and inside the right drawer is the button to open the secret passage to the underground, where the man is. The light switch is also in the drawer. It will move on the right so you have to stand a little far af

No name. Just a velvet box with a thumb drive inside. She stared at it. And slowly—slowly—inserted it into her laptop. A video began to play. Fuzzy at first. Then clear. It was a man’s voice: “Asset 02-27-B. Subject shows exceptional memory retention and elevated spatial reasoning. We recommend placement under secondary family cover until Phase Three.” A woman’s voice interrupted. “She’s too young.” “But if we don’t move her now, they’ll find her. Claire already suspects.”

I stepped closer, knife slipping from my belt. “K…kill—” The door creaked. Boots scuffed concrete. I froze. “Subject 11’s vitals spiked again,” a voice muttered. “Prep the sedative.” Bella’s chains clanked as she thrashed, a guttural growl building behind the wire. I fled. Silas

Alessandro was just staring at his brother’s empty face, lost in a private hell that I could only imagine. And then, a new voice, a voice that was not Alessandro’s, or Anya’s, or mine, echoed through the laboratory’s PA system, and through my headset. It was a calm, crisp, female voice, full of a cold, clinical authority. “Subject Zero’s vitals are stable. He is ready for activation.” There was a pause, and then the voice spoke again, sending a wave of pure, undiluted terror through my veins. “Initiate the Awakening Protocol. Director Moretti is on her way down.”

"He was the only survivor of the 2016 Starfall in the Mtwara region. His skin is denser than depleted uranium. He can walk through a hail of bullets as if they were raindrops. And unlike your 'New Dawn' friends, he is perfectly, beautifully obedient." She walked over to the giant, who stood like a statue. She reached up and patted his boulder-like shoulder. "Subject One," she said. "Go into the tunnels. Bring me the boy with the violet signature. Break his legs if he resists, but bring him to me breathing. Do you understand?"

Penelope circled the room, flashlight darting over control panels and embedded drawers. One caught her eye, no power indicator, no screen. Manual latch. She popped it open. Inside: a slim drawer of hardcopy files. Old-school. Labeled by hand. She pulled the one on top black folder, silver embossed: LUX PROTOCOL // PHASE ONE She flipped it open. Top page: biometric charts. Notes on “suggestibility thresholds” and “symbolic anchoring in post-trauma subjects.” She turned another page. Then I stopped cold.

I moved toward the nearest compartment. The panel opened immediately when I touched it. Inside rested a stack of thin folders. Real paper. Not digital storage. Paper. The sight felt strangely shocking. Everything inside Sublevel Zero revolved around technology. This did not. I removed the first folder carefully. The cover contained no name. Only a designation. SUBJECT 04. My pulse quickened. I opened it. Most pages had deteriorated. Others were partially erased. Yet enough remained to read. Psychological evaluations. Behavioral observations.

"The biological sensors are picking up a 'Culling Frequency' from the triangular ship. The creature is trying to detach itself from the peak. It wants to flee back into the dark!" ​"Hold it together, Harl!" I roared, my hands fusing with the central trunk of the Grove. ​I felt the mercury in my blood accelerate, the violet lattice pulsing with a new, intrusive stream of data. A window popped up on my internal HUD, a file I hadn't seen in a lifetime. It was a digital copy of my own medical residency papers from the university, annotated in a clinical, multifaceted script. ​Subject 09-Elara. Potential: High. Resistance to Conformity: Critical.

--- Meanwhile, in the back wing of the estate, Cassian sat alone in the study-flipping through a folder that didn't belong to him. The red seal on the front read: ZEPHYR – Eyes Only. He scanned the pages, his expression unreadable. A formula. A name. A blurred photograph of a girl with wires trailing from her temples. A note in Elijah's handwriting: > Subject 03 shows remarkable adaptation. If this works, we redefine consciousness itself. Cassian closed the folder and looked out the window. "I didn't come here for blood," he whispered. "But I might stay for fire."