Scp-204 Novels & Stories

"Your file on me was very informative, Dr. Reid. Especially the parts about Incident 17-B. I'd be happy to share what I've remembered with Alex and the rest of our pack leadership." It was a bluff—I still hadn't recovered those specific memories—but my gift confirmed its effectiveness as Reid's expression tightened with genuine concern. "Very well," the director finally conceded. "A brief observation only. The containment level is experiencing fluctuations today—the entity is... restless." They followed Reid to a secure elevator that required both biometric authentication and a coded key card. As we descended, I felt a growing pressure behind my eyes, my gift responding to something powerful

Seriously, this room looks like an expensive room in a Five Star Hotel in Paris, France! My amazement and awe instantly faded away as I realized that someone abducted me and brought me to this room. Who could it be? I haven't received any threats on my life and one thing, I don't have that much money if it's a kidnap for ransom! My chest filled with panic when the double doors suddenly opened and two women in maid uniforms entered. I lifted the white duvet as if it could protect me from the two women approaching me. Their faces are sporting a blank expression, they step slowly and together as if they have practiced every move. When there is enough distance between us, they bow together as if

The wolf's flinched, looking around wildly for him, but he hadn't materialized as of yet. "You guys," Nat said softly as she seemed to notice something. Pink and Sam looked back at her as she held up the tracking sphere. It glowed a bright blue when pointed towards the cradle. "Allena soul is in there?" Pink asked as she looked back and forth from the orb to the churning spire of magic. Sam was the first to break from the group, moving swiftly towards the pulsing indigo mass. "Sam, don't touch it!" Nat called as she came up behind him.

I don't know if I will succeed in rescuing him because I'm sure the criminal who hid him there will surely hunt me for the failure I made in the job he has given me. Here are the front door entrance combinations: *0926# and *6104#. The study where he has hidden him is *6104#. There's a table inside the study, and inside the right drawer is the button to open the secret passage to the underground, where the man is. The light switch is also in the drawer. It will move on the right so you have to stand a little far after pressing the button. "It's positive that my dad is in the mansion?" I asked.

My throat tightened as I clicked a video file labeled: Prototype 7. The footage flickered to life. Maria sat behind a sleek desk, her expression calm and deliberate. “The subject Scarlett Maria Devereux exhibits strong adaptive instincts, emotional volatility, and high persuasion thresholds. Predicted outcome: ideal candidate for control transfer.” Control transfer. I scrolled to the next document a contract signed under Damien Cole’s name, dated before Maria’s death. Subject assigned: Scarlett M. Devereux. Objective: integrate emotional dependency and ensure asset compliance. I couldn’t breathe.

His eyes were empty. I walked past the second cell. Empty, except for a chair in the center of the room with leather straps. I checked the clipboards hanging next to each door. Subject 892. Reconditioning Complete. Subject 411. In Process. I walked faster, my breath misting in the cold air. Then I saw it. Room 404. The clipboard was older than the others. The paper was yellowed. Subject: Elena Thorne. Status: Permanent Resident. Notes: Memory wipe successful (1998). Personality graft stable. Do not engage in discussions of the past.

Her mother looked terrified. “No.” Lucien grabbed Seraphina’s hand. “What?” She stared at the screen. The archive began transferring files. Not to Alessandro. Not to Gabriel. To an unknown location. Then a final message appeared: SUBJECT FOUR HAS TAKEN CONTROL OF THE ARCHIVE. Seraphina’s breath caught. The speakers crackled. A familiar male voice filled the headquarters. “You wanted to know who I am.” Seraphina’s heart raced. The voice continued. “Now you’ll remember.”

"Don't attack. Just... find them." As they closed their eyes, the room seemed to bend. Shadows stretched, and for a fleeting second, I saw a ghostly image projected onto the glass wall: a man in a white lab coat, sitting in a dark basement, hunched over a bank of monitors. He was typing a command labeled Extraction Protocol: 0400. My blood turned to ice. They weren't waiting for the morning. They were planning to move in four hours.

I moved toward the nearest compartment. The panel opened immediately when I touched it. Inside rested a stack of thin folders. Real paper. Not digital storage. Paper. The sight felt strangely shocking. Everything inside Sublevel Zero revolved around technology. This did not. I removed the first folder carefully. The cover contained no name. Only a designation. SUBJECT 04. My pulse quickened. I opened it. Most pages had deteriorated. Others were partially erased. Yet enough remained to read. Psychological evaluations. Behavioral observations.

I pulled an unmarked folder free from the furthest corner, and a wave unease crashed over me. This wasn’t just paper and ink, I could feel the malice vibrating in my nerves. It was a record of lives stolen, futures erased. Grainy and stark photographs showed small, cold forms wrapped in lace, newborn pups whose eyes would never see daylight again. Beside them, names, dates, clinical notes, all of it a catalog of cruelty. ‘Subject 402: Discarded. Essence insufficient for the ritual.’ Zebub’s unmistakable elegant, looping, precise handwriting detailed a massacre.