Scp-118 Novelas e Histórias

Ethan stepped closer. “What is that?” Lila couldn’t speak. She just turned the file toward him. His expression darkened instantly. “What the hell…” he muttered. Lucas frowned. “This is surveillance,” he said. “Not an investigation.” Vanessa nodded slightly. “Now you’re getting it.” Lila flipped the page. Then another. Then she froze. A section labeled: “Subject Selection Reason.” Her fingers shook as she read it. “Lila Bennett shows high cognitive pattern recognition, emotional adaptability, and behavioral predictability under pressure. Ideal candidate for controlled observation and manipulation study.”

[Author's note: All the dialogues enclosed within asterisk are commmunicated through telepathy. So, even if the words said, roared, etc are used it is to be assumed that they are communicated through telepathy!] R-18 was busy working on the new project, assigned to him by his master when his mate S-15 mind-linked. *Your hostage is causing a ruckus. She has come out of the cell. Unfortunately, F-20 has seen this. You know how much he hates humans. I am sure he will kill her if he reaches before you*

“They want a reclaiming. They’re not attacking the Council nor humans; they’re coming for me.” “Why?” I looked at the last blinking light on the screen. Because I wasn’t the last Echo. Because I was the one who lived. And Subject One wasn’t trying to kill me. He was trying to correct me. That night, I sat alone in the medbay, staring at the old file I’d pulled from Malek’s restricted archives. Subject Eleven: NORA… my mother. Her name was Nora. The file was blurry and corrupted in places. But there were still fragments left—enough to make me wish I hadn’t looked.

“They sent it after the ones who fought back. To collect what was left.” The thing took a step forward. The ground shuddered under its weight. Ronan felt the chamber’s pull tighten again—not yanking, not dragging, but aligning. Testing responses. Measuring distance. “This isn’t the end of the lab,” he said quietly. “It’s the failsafe.” The construct stopped. Then tilted its head. And in a voice not spoken aloud—but pushed directly into Kiera’s mind—it said: “Subject Eleven. Return to position.” Kiera screamed silently as the pull surged.

Their elite shock troops were reduced to a writhing, incapacitated mob in seconds. Amidst the chaos, Jack found a chilling connection. The specific energy signature of the psychic dampeners, the way they interacted with lycanthrope neurology, was eerily similar to fragments of data he had seen in his parents' last, cryptic message. It mentioned a rogue military project, codenamed 'Cerberus,' designed to control and weaponize supernatural beings. The Iron Claw weren't just using Council technology; they were using a perverted, weaponized version of his own family's research.

Instead, she placed Vincent on the bed and patted his back gently, trying to calm his emotions. ... A hint of pride flashed in the Ivy’s eyes. "Those two brats overheard our talk. They'll go spill everything to Larissa. Our plan is on track!" While Subject 118 stared at Ivy, he unexpectedly coughed up blood. In a panic, Ivy rushed to support him. "What's happening to you?" Subject 118 wiped the blood away and said calmly, "I'm a clone. My genes are always unstable. Once I leave the hibernation pod, I'll soon die."

"You'll have to move eventually when security gets here." My body jerks back to life at the word security. "Please, sir," I blurt out. "My sister, Keisha, works here. I'm not an intruder." "Tell that to security." "Please—" "Don't move." His tone sharpens, as if he knows I'm about to make a run for his direction. Then I hear it, the sound of his phone dialing. My heart pounds so violently I promise one could hear it echo through the library.

The monster gulps and moves forward to stand at the front. He lifts up the bag he is holding and I am surprised to see a human within the bag. “Why do you hold a human?” I ask as politely as possible. “It’s not just any human, it’s one of their humans, one of the important ones that the Ma Vista’s talk to.” I look at him in surprise, “And how did you find him?”

"The 'Holding' protocol has expired. Repossessing raw materials." "Raw materials?" I yelled, the Red Blood surging back to life. I felt the violet spark Silas had left in me ignite, creating a strange, swirling energy that felt like a storm in my veins. "We aren't materials! We’re the ones who survived your 'Graveyard'!" The Null turned its green lens toward me. "Subject 01-A. Identified as: **High-Value Bio-Mass**. Synthesis of Red Blood detected. Recovery of the 'Prime Frequency' is mandatory."

It was chained to the rock with massive, glowing runes—Taoist binding spells that had been corrupted by time. "Subject 004-Delta," Caleb’s voice shifted slightly, the analytical tone of the AI blending seamlessly with his own observations. "Designation: The Cinder-Husk. Status: Dormant. Threat Level: Extreme." "It's not just dormant," Scarlett whispered, pulling out her jade brush. "It's suffering. Look at the chains. They aren't holding it; they're feeding on it. This thing is a living battery." "Then we put it out of its misery," Caleb said. He didn't transform into his wolf form. Instead, he simply took off his jacket, revealing the intricate, silver tattoos that now covered his arms—the