Scp-109 Novels & Stories

He was trembling and on the verge of getting panic attack. Stopping the black Porsche just an inch away from him the driver gets out of the vehicle as if in a trance. "Come back to Tehran." He snarled on the face of Victor, his face purely white with an ugly black scar right on the middle of his forehead. He went to the switch board fixed to one of the pillars in the parking lot and put his finger into the socket. His body shook with passing electricity surprising Victor and he died on the spot.

The date in the corner appeared. Three weeks after the first recording. No. No. No. Mira covered her mouth. Cassian looked away. Even Seraphine's face tightened. The footage ended. Immediately. Leaving only silence. Heavy. Crushing. "What happened?" Nova whispered. Hale swallowed. Then opened the final document. A medical report. Experiment failure. Subject terminated. Age: Ten. The room went cold. Because this wasn't intelligence. This wasn't strategy. This wasn't military information.

--- Chapter 49: The Red Room Part 2 The house was quiet, but it wasn't calm anymore. The stillness closed around Isla like a noose, tightening with each breath. She looked at the shredded contents of the "Project Lyra" folder. Brain scan printouts, personality overlays, pain tolerance tests. Pages marked with notes like: "Subject reacts violently to mother imagery." "Sensory deprivation behavioral modification had some success." "Mirror empathy almost complete—98.7% personality match."

Colton had given him the file—encrypted logs of off-grid sites funded quietly by Echo. The compound was nestled beneath camouflage netting, indistinguishable from the forest around it. Julian broke in through a side access panel with tools forged from memory and years of espionage. Inside, he found labs long since powered down—but not forgotten. Stasis chambers lined the walls, each labeled with names, genetic codes, and the prefix "H-X." Helix subjects. Some chambers were broken. Others were still… occupied. He snapped photos, sent encrypted messages back to Colton and Savannah, and then froze at one file in particular. MIRA: H-X-009. Status: Active. Escaped. Unknown.

There were two folders in the drive. The first was titled "S. STALKER - TERMINATION PROTOCOL." It included CCTV footage of him entering and leaving the Vauxhall complex, shot from different angles. They had surveilled him for hours. There were also architectural plans of the building, with this same room circled. A psych profile in great detail. It was a hunter's dossier. The bait had been skillfully set. The second folder sent shivers down his spine. "A. ROGERS - ACQUISITION PARAMETERS."

Ivy scrambled to inject a sedative, but the scanner shattered in her hand, sparking violently. Alessio hit the panic button. “Med team, now!” But then Noa stopped convulsing. Just… stopped. He lay there, breathing shallowly. Silent. Alessio dropped to his knees, gripping his face. “Baby. Look at me.” Noa’s eyes fluttered open. And they were black. Not just the pupils. Everything. Pitch, glassy black. He blinked. Then smiled. “Phase Ten,” he said softly, “has begun.”

Agnes whispered under her breath, her heart hammering in her chest. A sudden, blood-red file unlocked at the top of the queue: > **CLASSIFIED RECORD: OPERATION NIGHTFALL** > AUTHORIZATION: ARCHON MALAKOR / GRAND WOLF ASSEMBLY > EXECUTOR: MORRIGAN VANCE (STEP-MOTHER) > ORDER DETAILS: TOTAL INCINERATION / ASSET SEIZURE > Agnes’s breath hitched in her throat. Her eyes scanned the decrypted blueprint attached to the file—a highly complex, ancient Relic schematic stamped with her late mother’s personal crest: **The Apex Relic.**

His grip was firm, steady, and entirely grounding, trying to pull me back from the dark edge of my rising fury. “Kael,” Lucien murmured low in his chest. “Read the log from twenty years ago, Julian,” I said, my silver-ringed eyes fixed on the terminal screen mounted beside the tank. Julian stepped up to the panel, plugging his bypass tool into the ancient interface. The blue screen flickered to life, displaying a handwritten medical log signed by a rogue High Conservatory geneticist named Dr. Aris. “Subject 109 has achieved full cellular stabilization,” Julian read aloud, his rough voice tight. “The Pure Omega strain has successfully bonded with the host marrow. Inquisitor Vane has ordered i

Beneath it another hand had written: "It remembers." The same phrase. Sera froze. She had seen those words before. In another report. Dr. Rowan. "The blood remembers." Her breathing slowed. Why did everyone keep writing the same thing? She reached the final page of the folder. Unlike the others. It wasn't typed. It was handwritten. Messy. Hurried. As though the writer expected someone to interrupt. > If Subject H-01 escapes, terminate the project immediately. > Never attempt replication. > Never expose compatible bloodlines.

Pixie responded. “How do you know this?” I asked her. She shrugged. “I just do.” “I have to see my parents first,” Cyrus said. “Do you think they are also not human?” Edgar asked. The three of us shot him a ‘what do you think?’ look. “The more important question to ask is if his parents are the two people who were caught leaving the barrier,” I said. “Where’s the picture?” Cyrus asked. Edgar led him us to the room dedicated to Area Alpha 101 research.