Scp-298 Novels & Stories

I feel like I will never escape from the cage I spent so many years of my childhood in. The dream of my first time in the laboratory haunts my mind, a constant reminder that I am the Dark Alpha’s pet, Experiment 399. I subconsciously ran my fingers down the back of my leg, feeling the permanent engraved scar of 399, and then felt the scar over my lower abdomen. Closing my eyes, I let out a whimpered sigh. The buzzing of my phone breaks into my thoughts and I see its Benji calling. I swipe it open, and press the speaker before resting it on top of the small stool I keep near the side of the tub. “Hello?”

"EMMET ISLINGTON, FORMER HEAD SCIENTIFIC DIRECTOR AT A MILLITARY RESEARCH FACILITY SIMILAR TO THIS ONE, KEPT EXTENSIVE RECORDS THAT WERE HIDDEN AWAY WITHIN HIS OFFICE, AND ENCRYPTED. THE DISCOVERY OF THE DOCUMENTS AND THE EVENTUAL DECRPYTION LATER PROVIDED VALUABLE INFORMATION OF THE INDIVIDUAL KNOWN AS 'RED_TWO', AN INDIVIDUAL THAT WE BECAME AWARE OF AND ALLOWED TO CONTRIBUTE HIS EFFORTS ONTO THE TIME TRAVEL PROJECT AND THEN ALLOW TO KILL ONE OF OUR OWN TO ESCAPE US." "NOTES CEASE TO EXIST ON WHAT WOULD HAPPEN AFTER THIS INCIDENT, AND WE TOOK HIM INTO CONFINEMENT, FULLY ANTICIPATING HIS DEATH TO EXTRACT THE INFORMATION ACCUMULATED WITHIN HIS BRAIN AFTER HIS BODY HAD FAILED ON SITE. THAT IS

she didn't notice the final notification that appeared at the bottom of the screen. A notification the system seemed reluctant to show. [Warning] [Entity Detected Inside Crosswell Estate Basement] [Status: Active] [Status: Awake]

And in each observation room, paranormals are strapped to tables while scientists in hazmat suits run experiments. I see them drawing blood. Inserting tubes. Running energy tests that make the paranormals scream without sound. My father grips my arm so hard it hurts. "We need to move. Security rotates in ninety seconds." "Where's the stasis chamber?" Catherine asks Kieran. "Upper sublevel," Kieran says. "But the path isn't direct. And they've increased security since…" An alarm sounds. Not the gentle chime from before. This one is sharp. Immediate.

“Every file. Every iteration. Every genetic note.” *** The files unfolded like a slow dissection. VIOLET – Age 14. Status: Missing. Notes: Rapid adaptation to external stimuli; increased resilience to environmental extremes. Danger rating: Elevated. Savannah’s throat tightened. A missing child. Missing for how long? And in whose hands? NOVA – Age 9. Status: Under surveillance. Notes: Cognitive acceleration through induced maturation cycles. Danger rating: Pending assessment. Nine. And already under watch, like a creature in a cage. Savannah could picture it too vividly — the cold lights, the silence of steel walls, the endless eyes of security cameras.

I needed the names of every person in this system — scout, seed, shadow killer. Because I wasn’t going to survive this place anymore. I was going to end it. “Where’s the master log?” I asked. Kyro wiped blood from his lip. “What?” “The full list. With names. Targets. Assignments. There’s always a main feed. Where is it?” He hesitated, then whispered, “Level Nine. Server vault under the infirmary wing. Locked with biometrics.” “Whose?” He gave me a name I didn’t expect.

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."

The sound of it—metal screaming open—echoed like a dying animal. Eden and Cassel crept forward, peering through the crack in the wall. Inside, they saw it: a capsule. Nine feet tall. Frosted glass. Wires running like veins into the floor. And inside it… a body. Pale. Unmoving. Genderless. Eyes shut. Tubes in every vein. Cassel’s breath hitched. “He didn’t just steal data. He stole life.” “What is that?” Cassel pulled her back. “We leave. Now.”

The city in the distance was shrouded in red mist, and here here was silence so deep it pressed against the bones. --- They passed through the corroded iron gate and entered Factory Nine. The air was freezing. Under the beam of their flashlights, dark stains painted the floor hundreds of blood marks forming twisted, ancient symbols: the sigils of the Blood Cult. At the center stood a long steel table, and from it hung a human body upside down, completely drained. “Dear God…” one of the hunters whispered. Evelyn stepped closer and activated her energy scanner. The needle spiked violently. “Someone performed a summoning ritual here. This level of energy… it’s inhuman.”

There were two folders in the drive. The first was titled "S. STALKER - TERMINATION PROTOCOL." It included CCTV footage of him entering and leaving the Vauxhall complex, shot from different angles. They had surveilled him for hours. There were also architectural plans of the building, with this same room circled. A psych profile in great detail. It was a hunter's dossier. The bait had been skillfully set. The second folder sent shivers down his spine. "A. ROGERS - ACQUISITION PARAMETERS."