Scp-192 Novels & Stories

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.”

She shrugged nonchalantly with a sardonic shake of her head, "Well, then you'd be right. I tracked you here because I had important news but it seems like I'm interrupting your staring contest with a heap of sand. I'll just come back later." Saint made a move to leave when a guttural growl made her pause. "What is it that you need to tell me, Saint?" My alpha tone leaked into the words without much effort, making it difficult to not obey me. She turned back to face me with an impish grin, "Oh, I just wanted to tell you that the wolf working on the security cameras completed the job. Not only did he wipe your presence from the building, he hacked into all four of their emails and sent in thei

Recalling a peculiar encounter in a white room earlier, where he had noticed an individual who stood out due to their height, Stallion's anger grew. He had wanted to confront that person, but a vital meeting had intervened, preventing him from doing so. Stallion recognized the urgency of the situation, considering the capabilities of Queen and Shawn, who had managed to infiltrate his residence. With his plans in jeopardy, Stallion called upon someone he believed could assist – the police chief. When the police chief answered the call, Stallion urgently conveyed, "My residence is under attack, led by Shawn Diesel and Queen Scorpion. I need them apprehended and brought to me. Deploy your best

I snarled, my voice dropping into that chilling, double-toned sovereign resonance that made the standing puddles of water beneath our boots ripple in outward rings. I stepped onto the central platform, my crimson pupils ringed by liquid gold flaring with a dangerous, ancient intensity that pierced the darkness. At the center of the vault stood a shattered obsidian pedestal. The iron containment box—which Vance had reported as a collection of old architectural blueprints—was torn open. The parchment was gone, replaced by a single, terrifying object left in its place: a fresh, severed wolf head from one of our frontline Northern scouts, its mouth stuffed with a single, highly refined silver ne

He raised his satellite phone to his ear and spoke in a low, emotionless tone: “The target is securely inside the cage. Rebirth Phase Two: Host Integration. Initiate twenty-four-hour surveillance. Do not make contact or interfere until the child is born. That child… is the true subject we have been waiting for these past thirty years.” The mysterious figure vanished into the darkness, leaving behind a threat far greater and more terrifying than anything Mavric and Liora had faced so far a dark cloud looming over the “normal” life they had only just begun to build. END OF CHAPTER 170.

𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗖𝗘: VANCE_PRIME. 𝗢𝗕𝗝𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘: RE-CONSOLIDATE CONSCIOUSNESS. 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: BIOLOGICAL COLLATERAL ESTIMATED AT 98%.

"On the previous watch, your vocal cords released the names of Rickey Owen and Janet Lawrence; however, my intelligence units found zero matching records in the Dominion ledgers. Provide the missing network markers so my scouts can narrow the parameters." The second my voice hit the space, the old woman's pupils shrank with intense, paranoid vigilance. She dragged Chika deeper into her personal space, her claws digging into his uniform as she shielded his frame with her own body. A wave of raw terror rolled off her skin, her beast misidentifying my chair as a extraction unit designed to tear Chika from her sector. Chika winced, his muscles locking under the sheer force of her grip.

The voice”her own voice, yet stripped of all warmth”had drifted from the darkness, but the source remained hidden behind the wall of canisters. She moved the light forward. In the canister nearest to her, a young woman slept”or was suspended”in a clear, viscous fluid. Her features were identical to Cattleya’s, down to the small, crescent-shaped birthmark on the left collarbone. The tag bolted to the base of the glass read: Subject: 402 - Termination Protocol: Failed. "I’m not¦ I’m not a copy," Cattleya whispered, her voice cracking. The sound was swallowed by the vast, oppressive silence of the vault.

A line of text was scrolling across the black surface, glowing in a familiar, sickly green. "Calibration Complete. Subject 01 and 02 have reached Phase 3: Mutual Obsession. Deploying the Harvester." I looked at Jinyan, but he wasn't looking at the tablet. He was looking at the front door. The door didn't open. It didn't break. It simply turned into light. And standing in the center of our kitchen, bathed in a glow that was neither sapphire nor emerald, was a woman who looked exactly like my mother—but her skin was made of the same silver as Jinyan’s scars.

The stranger stops beside it and opens the side door, a tall man in a black suit stepping out. Blue immediately moves to stand in front of me, one arm subtly angled to shield me. "Name," she says. The man raises both hands in surrender. "Captain Finn Torres, Werewolf Corps, Veil Containment Division." He nods towards me without breaking eye contact with Blue. "Mrs. Lakewood." Blue doesn't budge. "ID." He reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a matte black card. There's no photo. Just the Corps insignia in silver and a short alphanumeric code. Blue takes it and studies it for three long seconds, then she hands it back.