Scp-109 Novels & Stories

The alarms blared. Red light swept across the lab, painting the glass walls in flashes. Dr. Hattie Quinn's hands shook as she typed into the terminal. “No, no, no, containment was secure.” Her throat felt tight. “It was secure.” A shadow moved beyond the glass in a predatory movement. Then he stepped into view. Subject X-9. He shouldn’t have looked so… human. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with silver veins glowing faintly under his skin. His eyes were wrong though, they were a burning gold and were locked on her as if she were prey.

“Run Or become the weapon.” Aurora grabbed Lila. “We’re not running.” She turned to the pods there were lots of them, each of them labeled with a date and a name in her mother’s handwriting, spidery and precise. Subject 001: Failure – 1998 Subject 002: Unstable – 2001 Subject 003: Aurora – 2003

He located the origin of the scent immediately. It was coming from a small woman who stood in the doorway of a hidden room, blocking the entry. In front of her was a large man with shaggy blonde hair, clad only in dark jeans. He held her arms in a painful grip and pulled her forward so far, she was on her tiptoes. William’s nose instantly marked him for what he was. Werewolf.

Not fear of him, but fear for him. Lucian let Allen drop to the floor. Allen crumpled, gasping for air, clutching his bruised throat. "You're right," Lucian said, his voice shaking with restrained violence. "Death is too simple for someone like him." Lucian looked at the recording device Allen had dropped. He crushed it under his boot with a sickening crunch. He then looked at the security camera in the corner of the aisle. "Aris," Lucian said into his wrist-comms. "Initiate Protocol 'Ghost-Light.' Sector Nine, Lower Archives. We have a cadet suffering from a 'psychotic break' due to neuro-stabilizer exposure. He’s becoming a danger to himself and the project."

"Damian, look at this," I said, showing him the thermal imaging data. "Nine warm bodies in the facility. But vampires only documented eight children." "Could be staff. Vampire caretaker or security." "Thermal signature reads as child-sized. Human temperature patterns. And look at the location, it's isolated from both the protected children and the vampire personnel. Separate containment." I cross-referenced the data with Chrysalis Initiative records I'd managed to access through Guardian channels. Looking for any child matching the ninth presence. Any documentation of enhanced individuals with Elara's specific consciousness profile.

"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?"

Somewhere high above, Maddox bellowed: "Security breach in Sublevel Nine. Contain the asset." Asset. That was all she was to them but to me, she was everything. The final door required biometric access. I grasped the guard I'd released a second ago and pressed his palm on the reader. The lock closed. It was colder in here and darker. Monitors lined all four walls, with images of brains and heat maps. She lay on a metal table now—bound down, wires on her temples and an IV delivering who-knew-what into her veins.

I needed the names of every person in this system — scout, seed, shadow killer. Because I wasn’t going to survive this place anymore. I was going to end it. “Where’s the master log?” I asked. Kyro wiped blood from his lip. “What?” “The full list. With names. Targets. Assignments. There’s always a main feed. Where is it?” He hesitated, then whispered, “Level Nine. Server vault under the infirmary wing. Locked with biometrics.” “Whose?” He gave me a name I didn’t expect.

Occasionally, there would be the silhouette of another man, tall and lanky beside her, and Graham figured that the person had to be Dean. He set his phone down and closed his eyes. He didn't know why, but he'd been dreaming a lot lately. His dreams were also a mess. Gwyneth was in it, Leanna was in it, and there was also a strange room that he hadn't seen before. He tried grabbing onto it, but he just couldn't. … Everything went well during Leanna's follow-up at the hospital. The doctor said that she was recovering very nicely, and she only had to come back for scans every six months.

He doesn’t open it. Not yet. ⸻ Cut to the Architects’ headquarters. The scarred observer enters Seraphine’s office. He places a file on her desk. Inside— Photographs of Clara. Every birthday. Every school report. Every medical record. He quietly says, “It’s begun.” Seraphine closes her eyes. “How certain?” He answers, “Ninety-eight percent.” Silence. Then— “Subject C has awakened.” Readers finally learn Clara’s file designation. Subject C.