Scp-583 Novels & Stories

scrolled by in an endless, tragic loop. Subject 04: Cognitive Collapse at 42%. Subject 09: Neural Hemorrhage at 58%. Subject 14: Personality Dissolution at 71%. "He was trying to build a god," Elena said, her voice trembling. "He didn't care how many girls he broke to do it." She walked toward a heavy, pressurized door at the end of the hall marked COLD STORAGE. Before Alexander could warn her, she pressed her palm to the scanner. The door hissed open, revealing a chamber filled with hundreds of floor-to-ceiling glass tubes.

I'd almost forgotten he was a vampire after working so closely with him these last days. "In all of my long life, I've never seen anything this barbaric," Dimitri said quietly. "And I lived through some horrific times." Moving back to my laptop, I pulled up the file that corresponded with the footage we were watching. I scanned through it. "It says here that subject fifty-five continues to show high tolerance to pain with no indications of power manifestation. The doctor," I spat the word, "actually notes that the best use of this test subject is to keep subject thirty-eight in line."

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.

The guy was all gruff business, and his piercing brown eyes surely missed no detail. I inwardly sighed. There was no point in lying to them. They’d get this information out of us one way or another, and I wasn’t going to let this escalate into violence or torture if it could be avoided. “Silas Vexx, and the organization he runs, called 5th Circle, are on a mission to murder hybrids like me, and Vee, and Greystone.”

"Say your code. Now!" The emotional conflict shattered me. If I said the code, I gave the world to the monsters. If I didn't, I watched my son die on a monitor. I looked at the baby’s face, so peaceful in sleep, and the "Hidden Tycoon" within me died, replaced by something much older and more primal. "Seraphina Vance," I choked out. "Vocal ID 11-Omega-Four." The pedestals turned green. "Biometric Handshake Confirmed. Accessing Vaults..."

“Trying to control something that doesn’t want to be controlled.” Adrian stared at him for a long moment. “That makes two of you.” That night, Evelyn couldn’t sleep. The mark pulsed too steadily, like a metronome counting toward something inevitable. She opened the folder again, tracing the name R. Draven with her finger. Below it, a half-faded note: Subject exhibited secondary resonance. Suggest containment before phase two. Her phone buzzed. Unknown Number: Containment failed before. It will again. Her fingers tightened. Who are you? she typed.

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:

“What do you mean?” Marla tapped her keyboard. On the screen appeared a registration document. Not legal. Medical. Anita read it aloud. “‘Subject: SB-001. Genetic viability: confirmed. Psychological profile: compliant with conditioning. Intelligence quotient: stable. Risk level: dormant.’” Nathan blinked. “She’s not a person to them. She’s a project.” Ethan added, “They’ve been monitoring her since she disappeared. And guess where she was for the last six months?” Marla’s voice was grim. “A Rothschild psychiatric facility in Prague. Off the books. Not for treatment. For reprogramming.”

Comfortable silence fills the living room. Demetria broke the silence and said, “I’m thinking of bringing you to the hibernation chambers to meet the remaining five members of the forsaken vampires. Are you ready?” “Yes!” she replied. Demetria stood up. “OK, let’s go.” The women left the living room and proceeded to the hibernation chamber. They entered room number 5 and approached the glass coffin. Clarice looked at the woman in her 50s. “What’s her case?” she inquired.

Data, coordinates, intent and a face. I uploaded it to the neural scanner. The man beside Damian wasn’t just muscle. He was a known ghost from black-ops: Kazimir Vukov. Ex-SERAPH. Off-grid for six years. Now he was back—and working for the enemy. Sophia wasn’t being held for leverage. She was being held because she was the only one who could still outmaneuver him and if Damian got bored… he’d test her limits just to see how long it took to break her.