Scp-298 Novels & Stories

N Protocol - Subject 07" Her hands trembled as she opened it. A series of medical reports filled the screen growth charts, DNA enhancements, emotional suppression records. And the she saw it. Subject Name: Aurora Collins Status: Contained - Relocation initiated Located: Facilty Delta - Sector 9 Jessica covered her mouth, tears flooding her eyes. Aurora. That was her baby's name. The one she'd whispered before the world burned. Behind her, the faintest creak of floorboards broke the silence. She spun, weapon drawn but her breath hitched when she saw the figure emerging from the shadows.

The alarms blared. Red light swept across the lab, painting the glass walls in flashes. Dr. Hattie Quinn's hands shook as she typed into the terminal. “No, no, no, containment was secure.” Her throat felt tight. “It was secure.” A shadow moved beyond the glass in a predatory movement. Then he stepped into view. Subject X-9. He shouldn’t have looked so… human. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with silver veins glowing faintly under his skin. His eyes were wrong though, they were a burning gold and were locked on her as if she were prey.

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.

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:

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:

It was chained to the rock with massive, glowing runes—Taoist binding spells that had been corrupted by time. "Subject 004-Delta," Caleb’s voice shifted slightly, the analytical tone of the AI blending seamlessly with his own observations. "Designation: The Cinder-Husk. Status: Dormant. Threat Level: Extreme." "It's not just dormant," Scarlett whispered, pulling out her jade brush. "It's suffering. Look at the chains. They aren't holding it; they're feeding on it. This thing is a living battery." "Then we put it out of its misery," Caleb said. He didn't transform into his wolf form. Instead, he simply took off his jacket, revealing the intricate, silver tattoos that now covered his arms—the

“Run Or become the weapon.” Aurora grabbed Lila. “We’re not running.” She turned to the pods there were lots of them, each of them labeled with a date and a name in her mother’s handwriting, spidery and precise. Subject 001: Failure – 1998 Subject 002: Unstable – 2001 Subject 003: Aurora – 2003

Matthew replied, "Every information network in the facility can only be accessed by local channels here!" They finally reached a section of pods with a Label Y. They both looked up and saw the subject Y-23T2 still unconscious within. The same dark skin human-looking fiend who caused major chaos some days ago, laying on the other side of the barrier. Matthew dabbed on his watch. Several panels of information manifested in front of him, all with Yaksha's information on it. He also clicked on the button beside the pod until a woman's figure manifested in front of them. Her features and movement were too mechanical to be a human's.

“That’s my Luna. My mate. My everything.” Inside the estate, my phone buzzed. Unknown number. Another message. I almost ignored it. Almost deleted it without looking. But something made me check. A video file. No text. Just the attachment. I opened it. Watched. Felt my blood turn to ice. The video showed a facility. White walls. Medical equipment. And rows of people in glass chambers. Hundreds of them. All unconscious. All hooked to machines. The camera panned. Showed a placard. Project Genesis. Activation in 89 days.

when in truth she stole everything. The young woman stood nervously by the door. “Commander… is something wrong?” I looked up slowly. “When was the last time this facility was used?” She hesitated. “This morning.” My jaw tightened. “On who?” “A shifter child from Sector Nine.” Sector Nine. The Garden. Cross was actively breaking children. Still. Today. My voice sharpened. “And where is the child now?” “There.” She pointed to an adjacent door. I opened it. Inside, a little girl, maybe seven, pĺsat on a chair with a blank expression.