Scp-182 Novels & Stories

I will not allow fear, anger, or temptation to dictate my choices. The first signs of the storm’s threat arrived at twilight. Scouts reported unusual activity along the mansion’s perimeter — shadows that moved with unnatural intelligence, intruders slipping through fog-laden paths, and energy disturbances that carried the unmistakable residue of Sipho’s unfinished rituals. Samkelo extended his awareness into the mansion’s pulse, feeling each movement, each intention, each subtle deviation from normal activity. Shadows along the walls responded instantly, curling, stretching, and shifting to mark potential threats.

The Spire’s core was just ahead, a pulsating, white-gold heart that radiated a frequency so powerful it made my teeth rattle in my skull. I reached the maintenance hatch—a circular plate of reinforced obsidian. It was locked with a biometric seal. "Vessel 002 detected," a cold, feminine voice echoed in the pipe. "Identity: Zora Vane. Status: Rogue. Biological purge initiated." The liquid around me began to boil.

The creature didn't scream; it hissed, its orange core flaring as it tried to stabilize. "That’s for Phuwin, you glowing bastard!" Somito roared, bringing the mace down again and again until the orange light flickered and died, leaving only a pile of cooling, amber slush on the floor. "You really need to work on your stealth, old man," Zilo said, rushing to the terminal and his fingers flying across the keys. "Okay, I’ve got the bypass. Cell 402. Restricted access. It says... 'Subject: Pilot. Status: Integration Complete.'"

That wasn’t synthetic. Neither was mine. A soft tone interrupted the silence. New notification. Not from the apartment. From my tablet. I crossed the room slowly and picked it up. The screen displayed a single classified document. PROJECT ORPHEUS Behavioral Synchronization Trial – Phase III Primary Objective: Emotional Dependency Pairing for Executive Stabilization My blood went cold. Below it— Subject A: Reid, Shawn Subject B: Agreste, Catriona Status: Convergence Successful Shawn went utterly still behind me.

“Trying to control something that doesn’t want to be controlled.” Adrian stared at him for a long moment. “That makes two of you.” That night, Evelyn couldn’t sleep. The mark pulsed too steadily, like a metronome counting toward something inevitable. She opened the folder again, tracing the name R. Draven with her finger. Below it, a half-faded note: Subject exhibited secondary resonance. Suggest containment before phase two. Her phone buzzed. Unknown Number: Containment failed before. It will again. Her fingers tightened. Who are you? she typed.

No ancient artifacts. There were eleven, upright, ice-covered cryo-pods. "Wrong... target," Breach whispered, confusion warring with his discipline. "This is not the asset. These are..." He didn't get to finish. The moment his boot crossed the threshold, a proximity sensor, which had been waiting for a critical mass of bodies, sent a single, silent pulse. In the command center, Catherine’s fingers flew. "They're all inside. Protocol 'Hungry Wolves' is active." She hit the final key. "Releasing the assets."

“When they’ve messed with it before, it’s been an extremely powerful Vampire, and they’ve been aware of what we are up to. These bastards have no idea what we’re about to do. All they’re worried about is Margie and her forces attacking them from outside the building. They won’t be expecting anyone with telepathy, and they certainly won’t think that we’d find a way to dig into their building without being detected.” She seemed very confident, and Jo wanted to believe her. After all, her aunt had been doing this a long time and had a lot of experience to dwell on. “All right then,” Jo said with a nod. “Then… that’s our plan. We’ll let our team on the ground know as soon as we can.” “Are you su

The master override code the hunter gave us doesn't work either. "This is the insider's test," Catherine says. "They want to see if we can pass what they pass through." "So what do we do?" I ask. The detention wing door slides open. Not because we opened it. Because someone inside opened it for us. Standing in the doorway is someone I don't recognize. Paranormal. Ancient. But his expression is conflicted.

It had too many joints in its arms, and its head was a smooth, featureless ovoid that reflected the room in distorted, funhouse-mirror angles. It was in the penthouse. It had bypassed all our security, all our shields, as if they weren't even there. It reached a long, multi-jointed limb toward the empty crib. And then it paused. Its featureless head turned slowly. And it looked directly into the camera. Directly at me. A voice, not a sound, but a thought forced directly into my mind, cold and alien, spoke. >We have come for the Catalyst. My blood froze. The Catalyst. Lina.

“Good. The last thing this place needs is another sycophant.” Later, Isabella wandered the empty corridors, her head spinning from the horrors she had witnessed. She paused outside the observation room where the C18 trial was being prepped. The young man, barely twenty, sat strapped to a chair, headphones pressed tightly against his ears. The technician adjusted the dial, and Isabella watched as the first tremors of confusion ran through him, his eyes wide, his mouth moving soundlessly. She pressed her palm against the cold glass, a silent promise. She wouldn’t let them erase him, not if she could help it.