Scp-590 Novels & Stories

"What is that thing?" Victoria Sterling stood in the center of the room, her elegant composure finally shattered. Her eyes were fixed on the machine rising from the woods. "It’s a Harvester. Silas Thorne’s final design. He called it the 'Ground Zero' protocol. It’s not a drone... It's a mobile laboratory. It’s coming for the Source." "Then we have to get my mother out now!" Maya cried. Victoria looked at her, a strange, desperate light in her eyes. "If we disconnect her without a bypass, she dies instantly. And if she dies, the mountain's security grid collapses. We’ll be buried alive."

"He’s trying to poison the well!" "Five years ago, I lived in an apartment on the edge of the Harrington woods," I said. My voice was steady. Cold. "I was an Omega. I was pregnant. And I was waiting for my Alpha to come home. The night of the attack, the emergency distress signal—the one wired directly to the Harrington barracks—failed." "Tech malfunctions happen, Dr. Scott," Hestia said. "They don't happen because of ghosts." I tapped the tablet. I projected the file onto the large screen behind the dais.

My legs felt like lead, so heavy I could barely move them without my knees buckling. “What have you done?!” I yelled. Henri snickered. “Whatever you are will be over today. Then we will chain you and bury you militia style for our Unit Nine.” Unit Nine. My eyes widened as memories flashed through my mind. Level Nine, the hidden facility, the experiments…. “Captain?” I whispered. Captain Reev answered from the phone. “You’ve got something there, Henri. Keep him calm.” I forced a weak laugh even though my body was shutting down. “Where did you get the tranq from, Captain? Tell me.”

“No, he wouldn’t– couldn’t–” But my father could. My father did many things no sane Alpha would do. Gavin moves toward me slowly, voice gentle but fraying. “Harley… you’re shaking.” I jerk away. “We don’t have time for this.” Luca swallows hard. “There’s more.” He scrolls. The next entry hits like a bullet to the heart. GENETIC SUBJECT C-37 – ALESSANDRA NOONE Status: FLAGGED / CLASSIFIED PROJECT FIVE – ACTIVE

“Creating what?” Dorian shifted uncomfortably, his hand resting near his gun. “If Elise’s father is trying to cover this up, it means either the experiment failed… or it worked too well.” I swallowed hard. “And if it worked?” Leon’s expression was unreadable. “Then someone out there isn’t just a survivor. They’re something else.” Dorian moved to the rusted shelves, rifling through the old files. “There’s got to be more.” He pulled out another folder, flipping through it quickly. “Here. ‘Subject Theta. Final Phase: Relocation Protocol.’”

*Test subjects. Aleksandr stepped forward, studying the nearest chamber. The label read: SUBJECT 017 – STATUS: ACTIVE Suddenly, the figure’s eyes snapped open. A sharp alarm blared through the lab. Elena’s heart pounded. “We need to move, now.” Hydra’s Trap Above ground, Dante and Luca had infiltrated the facility’s control center. Screens flickered with security feeds—guards mobilizing, alarms flashing red. Luca swore. “They knew we were coming.”

That wasn’t synthetic. Neither was mine. A soft tone interrupted the silence. New notification. Not from the apartment. From my tablet. I crossed the room slowly and picked it up. The screen displayed a single classified document. PROJECT ORPHEUS Behavioral Synchronization Trial – Phase III Primary Objective: Emotional Dependency Pairing for Executive Stabilization My blood went cold. Below it— Subject A: Reid, Shawn Subject B: Agreste, Catriona Status: Convergence Successful Shawn went utterly still behind me.

“It was sealed in a secondary vault — hidden even from the mimic cluster.” Charlotte pulled her rifle. “Because Malcolm didn’t want it watched.” Julian frowned. “Why build something like that?” She glanced at him. “To hunt the others.” The trip to Zone Five was different from the rest. No bioluminescent membranes. No synthetic corridors. Just bare steel. A single hallway that narrowed the further they went. At the end, a door. Massive. Reinforced. Sophie’s voice came through the comm. “You’re two meters from the containment floor. Motion trackers confirm a single moving entity. No known profile match.”

By sunrise, Serena was perched on her apartment rooftop, legs crossed, sketchpad in hand, gazing out at the skyline. But she wasn't drawing; she was waiting. Sure enough, Damien appeared just before eight. He looked worn out, hollow. Dust coated his black coat as if he had walked through something burning. She remained silent until he sat down across from her. "What the hell is Phase Five?" she demanded. Damien met her eyes. "It's what happens when control fails. When the subject deviates beyond recovery. It's the nuclear option." "They're coming after me?" she asked, her voice eerily calm.

He was trembling and on the verge of getting panic attack. Stopping the black Porsche just an inch away from him the driver gets out of the vehicle as if in a trance. "Come back to Tehran." He snarled on the face of Victor, his face purely white with an ugly black scar right on the middle of his forehead. He went to the switch board fixed to one of the pillars in the parking lot and put his finger into the socket. His body shook with passing electricity surprising Victor and he died on the spot.