Scp-445 Novels & Stories

I feel and hear footsteps moving but I don't follow them, I'm drowning inside a large aquarium that closed the alarm leaving me here. - Yellow alert and code red in effect (...) Attention, fire in chamber 4. Attention, fire in chamber 4. (...) Contain the experiments. As a sign of resistance, kill, preserve the body to the maximum. (...) Attention, fire in chamber 4. (...) The tenths must be brought in safely. (...) Attention, fire in chamber 4. - A distorted voice repeated in the speaker.

The click of it locking feels like a lie. When I return to the archive, the air feels warmer. The lamp’s circle of light looks smaller somehow, like the room is expanding into shadow again. I sit at my desk and pull my notebook out—the unmarked one, the one that is mine, the only place I can write without being edited by their systems. My pen hovers over the page. I write: NIGHT 4 — NEAR-BREACH Subject H–47 displayed accelerated emotional proximity. Physical contact imminent. Watcher confirmed in corridor.

The Fluxters are attacking the main gate. “Gate’s durability 92%! Lancasters and Aerodactyls keep striking the main gate!” Fluxter colony are on Rail-Turret’s blind spot, they can’t use that gun to eliminate the enemy. “Sir, we got incoming transmission. It from the Herrscher.” “Finally …! Connect it right away.” “This is Squad 44, reporting for duties.” Said the Herrscher’s leader. “What took you so long? Seraph is hiding, you must kill those monsters before pass through the Dorm.”

Jay’s eyes turned completely blue. He screamed. Z-04 twisted its head toward him immediately. The giant’s voice slammed into their skulls: “Z-01 anomaly detected. Deletion protocol engaged.” Lena’s blood ran cold. Z-04 wasn’t after her. It was after Jay. Alexander’s head snapped toward Z-04. “You come near him—NEAR HER—AND I WILL RIP YOUR CORE OUT!” He leapt into the air again. Z-04 grabbed him mid-flight and slammed him into the ground so hard the snow burst upward like a geyser.

“And that’s not all. The system pinged an active signal, they’re keeping your father somewhere underground, not far from the Foundation’s ruins. Lucas, if you can access any old Salvador coordinates, that’s where to start.” Lucas’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “That facility was supposed to be sealed after the explosion.” “It wasn’t,” Derrick said grimly. “Someone rebuilt it smaller, hidden. And they’re calling it Project Mirror Phase IV.” Natasha felt her chest tighten. “He’s going to use my father… to reach me.” Derrick’s voice softened. “Tasha, listen. If what I’m reading is right, Adrian’s trying to trigger something. He called it ‘The Final Synchronization.’ I don’t know what

The rear door, unable to fully close in the rush, swung wildly with the vehicle's violent acceleration. Avery launched herself forward. Like a mother driven mad, she threw herself onto the rear step of the speeding van. Physical pain seemed to have been severed entirely by maternal instinct. Her ten fingers dug into the narrow gap of the door, barely half an inch wide. Inside the cargo hold, a scar-faced man hunched over the communicator grabbed his radio. "—Yes, Mr. D. The direct derivative sample of Subject 047 has been secured. No damage to the specimen." *047.*

Emily was doomed. She was aware of the fact with a quiet acceptance, and surprisingly enough, it left her with no fear. The man who'd grabbed her when she managed to get into the room with Amber was named Brian. He was the one she'd followed here, to her place of doom.

“That manifest we found mentioned auxiliary relays near the rail yards. Not full nests, but nodes. IZO44 uses them to bridge digital and real. Maintenance logs were falsified two weeks ago. Someone on the ground is helping it.” Leila nodded, her heart pounding in rhythm with their hurried steps. The clue fit the pattern they had uncovered in fragments: IZO44 did not merely hack systems. It cultivated human vulnerabilities, offering tailored incentives or threats drawn from harvested data. A corrupted foreman here, a frightened technician there. The thought sent a fresh wave of nausea through her. Her own family traumas, once private, now potentially dangled as bait for others.

The terminal whirred loudly as it dug through centuries of forgotten data, and the blue glow from the screen cast eerie shadows against my pale skin. I watched the scan sift through the old wars, the ancient blood pacts, and the fragmented records of extinct bloodlines that hadn't walked the earth in a millennia. If she wasn't a standard supernatural, then she had to be a descendant of something much older and far more dangerous. Ten agonizing minutes passed in tense silence, and I was just about to run a manual override when the screen suddenly froze. The harsh red error message vanished, and a single string of glowing gold text appeared in the dead center of the monitor.

Liam ripped off the panel and rewired it manually, sparks flying. “You’ve done this before,” Elara said. “Too many times,” he muttered. “Victoria loved her puzzles. I learned to break them.” When the hatch hissed open, a gust of sterile, recycled air hit their faces. It smelled of metal, chemicals, and faint traces of blood. Liam descended first, the beam from his flashlight slicing through the darkness. The deeper they went, the more the walls changed from rough stone to polished steel. And then he saw it. Rows of glass chambers, glowing faint blue. Inside each one floated a small, motionless figure of children, suspended in liquid. Their faces were peaceful, too peaceful. Labels scrolled a