Scp-154 Novels & Stories

The other was a tall man with the permanent scowl of someone who'd once been a bureaucrat and now had to carry a gun. The woman introduced herself as Marta Sánchez, formerly Control Acquisition Division. The man, DeWitt, didn’t give a first name. Marta pulled a tarp off a metal cart. What lay beneath looked like a human brain, roughly basketball-sized, mounted on a mess of tentacles and chitinous limbs. It had no eyes, but ridges across its central mass pulsed faintly, as if registering light. "Meet the enemy," Marta said. "This is a dead one. We think. Don’t poke it."

Alma’s breath caught as the doors slid open to reveal a clinical hallway lined with blinking biometric scanners and retinal cameras. “This is it,” Lena whispered. “Vault 12-B. It’s where he kept the serum and the test subjects.” Roman handed out comms and weapons. “We’re splitting up. Petra, secure the control room and start the EMP countdown. Lena and I will sweep the lab. Alma” “I’m coming with you,” Alma said firmly. “No arguments.” Roman met her eyes. Hesitated. Then gave a nod. “Stay close.” They moved quickly. Down a sterile corridor, passing rooms labeled with codes: NYX-01 NYX-06 NYX-14.

Level 2 — Surveillance Control Operators shouted across consoles, their eyes on security feeds. “Sector Four breach!” “She’s with it—some girl!” “That’s no girl. That’s Carson’s kid. The one who raised it.” One soldier barked into a comm: “Orders? Terminate both?” Static. Then a voice replied, grim and clipped: “Negative. The Chimera protocol is priority. Do not engage unless necessary.” The guards hesitated — but hesitation didn’t save them.

Nya asks, she's getting impatient. The intercom chimes again with another announcement; “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THIS IS YOUR CAPTAIN SPEAKING. THE PROVIDENCE PEACEKEEPERS HAVE IDENTIFIED THE FUGITIVE AND HIS ACCOMPLICE. THEY APPEAR TO BE OMEN; A MALE LYCAN DRESSED IN RED SWIM TRUNKS AND A FEMALE VAMPIRE DRESSED IN A GREEN BIKINI BOTTOM WITH A ROBE ON. PLEASE YOU ARE ADVISED TO KEEP YOUR DISTANCE FROM THEM, THEY ARE EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. REPORT ANY SIGHTINGS TO THE STAFF OR TO THE PEACEKEEPERS. THANK YOU.”

“What does it show?” Damian pressed play. The footage began. The camera angle showed a sterile research room filled with monitors and equipment. Two doctors stood near a glass observation chamber. The timestamp glowed in the corner of the screen. Five years ago. One of the doctors spoke into a recorder. “Trial log recording. Project Aurora. Subject verification beginning.” The second doctor glanced at a tablet. “Subject identification: S-V-017.” Evelyn felt her chest tighten. Silas. The doctor continued.

It looked like a relic, but beneath the vellum was a high-frequency biometric scanner. "This is the only device the Iron Mind still recognizes as an 'Absolute Override'," Julian explained. "Put your hand on the left page. I’ll put mine on the right. We authorize the 'Founder’s Protocol' together." The Hostile Takeover Xavier hesitated. His predatory instincts screamed, but the lure of total global control was too strong. He stood up and placed his hand on the vellum. Julian did the same. The room suddenly pulsed with a deep, blue light.

"I've spent my entire life running from what I am. Running from the hunters. Running from paranormal politics. Running from myself. I'm done running." The paranormal signatures get closer. The red one reaches the outer ward boundary first. An explosion of energy. The ward flares and holds but barely. A voice comes through the communication system, distorted by paranormal static. "This is Director Morrison of the Federal Paranormal Division," the voice says. "Adrian Wei is a classified paranormal threat. Stand down and surrender him peacefully. Failure to comply will result in forced extraction." "Morrison," I say. "The detective. The one investigating Elise."

The penthouse had turned into a waiting room again. But this time, they weren't waiting for a baby or a verdict or a stock price. They were waiting for a ghost to speak. Aurora sat in the study. The screens on the wall were dark, except for one. It showed a secure feed from a lab in Quantico. Not a live video—that wasn't allowed—but a status dashboard Agent Rivera had granted them access to. CASE ID: 2004-VALE-HAMPTONS.

Before the young spellcaster could finish, a blue beam of energy rained down on the Salamander, cutting off a small tip of its tail as the rest of its body was contained in a cylinder forcefield. “What the hell?” Scott said. Eight armed soldiers in green and white coloring appeared surrounding the Salamander. Each weaving a “S” shaped emblem with an arrow going through it diagonally. “Not them again,” Roxy said to herself. “War cloud, who are these guys,” Olivia asked. “I can answer that, Detective Cult,” A fourth voice chord as a dark skin woman with green eyes and short white hair appeared. I am Director Viola Sungold. We are an organization known as the supernatural prevention Espionage A

Outside, the birds fell silent. A figure stood in our garden, between the rosemary and the struggling carrots. It was neither male nor female, clad in a robe of shifting, neutral grey. Its face was pleasant but forgettable, and it held a slate of smooth, dark stone in one hand. In the other, a stylus of white light hovered, ready to take notes. “Designates: Sze and Kairi,” it said. Its voice was calm, measured, and utterly devoid of inflection. “I am Assessor Seven. I am here to evaluate Incident Report 4492-Alpha and the ongoing status of your localized anomaly.”