Scp-298 Novels & Stories

Catherine looked at the rescued subjects. "The tribunal asked the survivors if they wished to make statements regarding your sentence. Twenty-two of the twenty-three declined. They said they had nothing more to say to you. They wanted only for you to disappear from their lives. But one survivor did wish to speak. Subject 92, would you please stand?" A man rose. Mid-forties. Scarred from radiation experiments. Blind in one eye from neural enhancement attempts. "Subject 92 is Dr. Richard Chen. He was genetic researcher before the freeze. Captured in 2015. Imprisoned for nine years. Used for experiments because Hammond valued his scientific knowledge. Dr. Chen, please address the tribunal."

But a voice came from within it: “You opened the door… now I will open them all…” Naina rang the bell. Tannn… A sharp, piercing sound. Raghav’s body jerked and froze. Tann… tann… On the third ring, a scream tore through the hall—something not human. The scratches on the walls flashed briefly, as if fire ran through them. And then—silence. The lights returned to normal. The windows cleared. The doors unlocked. Raghav lay unconscious on the floor, looking completely normal. But his fingers… they were slightly longer than before. Just slightly. And carved into his palm was a number—509.

The trapdoor creaked open, revealing a stone stairwell descending into darkness. Sang-woo lit a lantern from the desk and climbed down. The walls below were lined with screens. Surveillance monitors. Not just of the estate. But in Yuri’s old school dorm. Devin’s safehouse in Moscow. Koji’s apartment in Tokyo. Their father had been watching everything. Even Azrael. Sang-woo’s fingers hovered over the dusty keyboard. Files. Recordings. Messages Vector had logged but never sent. He clicked open a file titled: N•17 — Stasis Protocol.

They were trapped—not by their mother, but by the very thing they had spent their lives trying to master. "We have to get out of here," Pim said, lunging for the service elevator. "It's dead!" Chalida shouted, hammering the buttons. "Everything's dead!" The screens in the room suddenly went dark, and the lights dimmed to a flickering, ghostly blue. A voice—mechanical, synthesized, yet strangely familiar—echoed through the penthouse speakers. "Target identified," the voice said. "Phase two: Elimination." Pim looked at the countdown on her phone. 00:00:01. The lights went out completely.

Agnes whispered under her breath, her heart hammering in her chest. A sudden, blood-red file unlocked at the top of the queue: > **CLASSIFIED RECORD: OPERATION NIGHTFALL** > AUTHORIZATION: ARCHON MALAKOR / GRAND WOLF ASSEMBLY > EXECUTOR: MORRIGAN VANCE (STEP-MOTHER) > ORDER DETAILS: TOTAL INCINERATION / ASSET SEIZURE > Agnes’s breath hitched in her throat. Her eyes scanned the decrypted blueprint attached to the file—a highly complex, ancient Relic schematic stamped with her late mother’s personal crest: **The Apex Relic.**

Now she was a pile of mangled flesh lying in the morgue. I turned and went back inside, locked the door, and slid down against it until I was sitting on the floor. My phone vibrated. "Backup slots are full. In the next cycle, death cannot be transferred." The next day, the sun came up, and the world went on as usual. Except for Unit 703. There was still no movement. I washed my face and looked at myself in the mirror. The scratch at the corner of my eye was still there. It was thin, narrow, and capped with a faint scab.

I turned the tablet toward him. On the screen was a photo of a glass incubator. Inside, a tiny, translucent shape was floating in amber fluid. PROJECT HARBINGER: SUBJECT 02. STATUS: VIABLE. "She has another one?" Richard’s voice was a whisper of pure horror. "She has a lab in the city," I said. "And Richard... according to the timestamps, Subject 02 is due to wake up tonight." The ground beneath the estate began to rumble. A low, vibrating sound—not a wolf, but a machine.

“Go see him, I will bring her in a moment. Let's see if you live or die first.” Their conversation was odd, but things weren't looking good for the man who was called Twenty-Nine. An odd name for someone. And odder were the features of both men. I may not be connected to my wolf, but I didn’t need shifter abilities to recognize that these two men were not… usual. Their skin was pale grey, and their eyes, though different colors were both strange shades of yellow and pale blue. Noses were flat and chins pointed. Twenty-Nine had a shade of brown hair, whereas the other man had a shade of pale blond. Everything on them just looked dim. As if all their color had been washed out.

"The biological sensors are picking up a 'Culling Frequency' from the triangular ship. The creature is trying to detach itself from the peak. It wants to flee back into the dark!" ​"Hold it together, Harl!" I roared, my hands fusing with the central trunk of the Grove. ​I felt the mercury in my blood accelerate, the violet lattice pulsing with a new, intrusive stream of data. A window popped up on my internal HUD, a file I hadn't seen in a lifetime. It was a digital copy of my own medical residency papers from the university, annotated in a clinical, multifaceted script. ​Subject 09-Elara. Potential: High. Resistance to Conformity: Critical.

Maybe I'd never listened close enough. Voicet pattern confirmed. Biometrictst pending. Enter code. Dominic typed. Six digits. A beep. Welcome, Mr. Blackwood. Sstandtanding orders purged. What are your instructions? "Lock this floor," Dominic said. "No one in or out without my voice. Cut external comms except this line. Bring med team to 901. Now. And send me the access logs for Directive 9.2. All of them. Since 1998."