Scp-204 Novels & Stories

“Keep an eye on Carter here. Make sure he doesn’t release my plaything in the small bedroom. Also, that he keeps anyone else from taking it. You can play with it, though, along with my pet.” “Who is your plaything?” She questions. “Ransom Oscar, as I know him by, although like Carter here, I’m positive their last names are false. Get off and I’ll show you,” I command her. She removes herself from my lap. I stand and then zip myself back up. My phone rings. I answer one of my men as I walk down the hallway to the room Ransom is being kept in. “Boss, C.H.A.O.S. and Tempest have made their move against Zen. You ain’t gonna like this. The Death Kings are with them.”

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."

Boyd veered and jump down from the table he sat while Red Mantis breathe heavily and walked towards the figure who seemed to be some kind of Computer tech genius "Seir, some minutes ago, our devices seems to have took some readings on some weird energy coming out at the 4th floor and now that I had just looked into it, there seems to be some unknown Intruders and I found this!" The figure explained and clicked some few buttons while the computer screen before him flickered and then brought up a video that displayed on its screen. "What..... the hell.... Is that?" Red Mantis cooed and gasped as he stared at the screen, there standing at the screen was Scott and Whyte who seemed to have just a

A single monitor flickered back to life, showing a horrifying thermal image of the elevator shaft. A humanoid form of incandescent heat was forming, woven from the black-gold code and the shredded wiring of the building. It was tall, impossibly thin, its outline shifting and unstable. >REAPER PROTOCOL ACTIVE, scrawled across the screen in jagged, glitching text. >OBJECTIVE: SYSTEM PURIFICATION. The thing in the shaft took a step forward. The thumping was the sound of its footfall, a impact that vibrated through the floor. “We can’t fight that,” I said, the cold certainty of the protocol warring with raw, human terror.

Its limbs twisted and elongated unnaturally, sparks of electrical discharge leaping from fingertips to walls, igniting short arcs of flame along metal conduits. Harrow pressed herself flat against the far wall, heartbeat hammering, every nerve alert. “You… you think you can escape?” The voice wasn’t loud, but every word resonated like shards of broken glass. Subject Zero’s tone was layered, distorted, simultaneously mechanical and human. “You smell… fear. Weak. Temporal anomaly detected.” Harrow swallowed the fear lodged in her throat. “I’m not weak,” she spat, forcing her voice to steady even as her hands brushed the cooling serum vial. “And you won’t find what you’re looking for here.”

Over twenty entries. Dozens of files. Dozens of failures. And me – the only one who evolved. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In the corner of the room, a series of containment pods stood embedded in the wall. Dust and condensation veiled the glass. My feet moved before I could stop them. Each pod had a number etched onto the surface. 002. 006. 008. 013. But only one was lit from within. Pod 021. I wiped the glass. My heart slammed against my ribs.

Deep, desperate scratch marks made by human fingernails and wolf claws. I stopped walking. My feet felt like they were glued to the floor. “Subject 42 is ready for the serum,” a voice echoed in my head. It wasn't a real voice. It was a memory. It was Voss’s voice from a year ago. I looked at the metal table nearest to me. There were thick leather straps attached to the corners. They were stained dark brown. “Hold her down. This will burn, Amaya, but it will make you perfect.”

“Sera?” Then Saye seized control again. The transfer resumed. Fourteen percent. Fifteen. A distant explosion shook the facility. Adrian looked toward the corridor. Another followed. Saye turned Seraphina’s head. “Lucian.” The name came with irritation. Not fear. Then Halcyon’s emergency system spoke. UNAUTHORIZED VALE BIOMETRIC DETECTED CONTAINMENT RESPONSE ACTIVATED Steel walls began descending around the archive chamber. Adrian ran toward Seraphina.

"This is the Vanguard Directive. All passengers and crew of Freight 404, step away from the carriages immediately. We are searching for an unregistered temporal anomaly. Non-compliance will be met with terminal force." Anaya gripped the gunmetal cylinder tightly against her chest. The hunters were at the door, and the countdown was still ticking.

The voice was no longer filtered through speakers. It came from the dark at the far end of the service corridor, low and steady, carrying the same distorted resonance as the core itself. “Subject 47. Resonator. You have entered the primary imprint corridor. Further resistance is inefficient. Present yourselves for final registration.” Kael stopped so abruptly I nearly walked into his back. His hand stayed locked around mine. Through the bond the failsafe surged in open recognition of the voice, black flooding the edges of his amber eyes and holding there with more force than it had shown since the dais.