Scp-267 Novels & Stories

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

Subject designated for Memory Protocol 7 and civilian integration due to psychological instability concerns and Incident 17-B. *NOTE: Subject's genetic modifications remain active and transmissible to offspring. Monitoring to continue indefinitely. Re-acquisition may be necessary in future containment scenarios.* They didn't care if I had love or kids they wanted weapons. "Incident 17-B," I repeated aloud, searching the document for references to what this might have been. Several pages later, I found it, a heavily redacted entry with only fragments visible: