Scp-229 Novels & Stories

“Who?” “A stranger, he was at the party, he was wearing a black cloak and suddenly he disappeared. A box appeared and when I picked it up, an unseen hand clawed at my neck. And there was a tendril-like object from the box. I struggled and then spat up a handful of blood.” “Blood?” Alpha Thane asked. “Where is it?” “There.” I pointed at the floor which I was sure I spat blood but it was as without the slightest drop of blood. My throat dried.

“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.

Notes scribbled in code still clung to clipboards tossed across the floor. “What were they doing here?” Mason whispered. Evelyn opened a drawer, fingers trembling. Photos. Notes. Logs. She stopped at a page marked Case Subject 9A. Age 16. Male. Transfer from “Hollow Branch.” Subject showed signs of high aggression post-serum. Terminated. “These weren’t criminals,” Evelyn said, voice low. “They were kids. Street kids. Runaways. Easy to disappear.” She didn’t say it out loud, but they all knew what she was thinking:

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.

Its power throbbed through Mira’s veins, making her knees weak but her resolve unbreakable. “You were never meant to lead,” L-22 whispered. “You were designed to be perfected or replaced.” Suddenly, a low, guttural snarl rattled the trees behind L-22. L-20. More unstable than ever, its twisted body convulsed, jaws snapping wildly. Its skin split along glowing crimson seams, leaking vaporized blood into the cold night air. The agents shifted position, giving the creature wide berth as it approached the standoff. Mira’s wolf stirred, sensing the closing trap.

What did that even mean? “I have no idea what you're getting at,”she said to the young girl.”What are you speaking of?” “She has lived in the shadows for a long time,watching and waiting for you.” “You’re not making any sense,”Beth replied,agitation rising in her voice. “Have you not felt her Beth?Here in your home?She watches you,growing stronger every day,she wants your life and she will end it when she’s ready.” Now Beth was getting mad.Were hallucinations supposed to be this annoying?

That was answer enough. Fourth twist. She brought up the ledger mirror, ready for anything—except what she saw. A new entry flickered across the screen. Timestamp: after the heist. Subject Status: CONFIRMED ACTIVE. Bloodline: WHITE WOLF — PRIME VARIANT. Containment Probability: DECLINING.

I opened the folder. Inside were incident reports from other universities. Students with "extraordinary abilities" who'd lost control. Photographs of destruction, entire buildings collapsed, burn patterns that didn't match any known accelerant, people frozen solid in the middle of summer. And at the center of it all, casualty reports. Hundreds of deaths attributed to "supernatural awakenings." "Oh my God," Miguel breathed, reading over my shoulder. The final document was a psychological evaluation of Maya Cross, dated three weeks ago. The conclusion made my blood run cold:

His hair was snow-white, his features impossibly sharp, and his eyes—shining through the high-definition display—were a bright, glowing, unnatural violet. "Good evening, city," the man's voice echoed from every street speaker, smooth, cultured, and chillingly familiar. "This is Richard Kelvin. A security breach has occurred tonight at one of my corporate residential sectors. A dangerous fugitive and his accomplice have stolen high-value asset blueprints." The screen shifted. Vivian’s breath hitched in her throat, a cold spike of absolute horror piercing her chest. Displayed in massive, crystal-clear definition across every screen in the entire city were two high-resolution facial scans.

" I nearly vomit. Sierra? Sierra and Cassian—? No. That's not possible. But the next file opens before I can breathe. A photo. Emilia, holding a child. In the corner—Larsson, arm around her, eyes cold as death. Title: "Project Greyborn, Phase I: Subject Sierra L." The room spins. My stomach twists. A notification pops up on the laptop. Live Feed Enabled: Safe House Camera 2. I click. The screen opens—the hallway just outside the surgical room. A nurse passes by, then Malik. Then a— A figure in a black hood. I lean forward to get a closer look. The camera glitches— Then the feed goes blank. "No, no, no—" I sprint towards the hallway.