Scp-599 Novels & Stories

Countdown: T-minus thirty-one seconds. The female voice from the ceiling was calm, almost kind. “Termination protocol engaged. Subject Elias Hart-Resonance, Iteration Nine. Thirty seconds to neural cascade shutdown.” The replica, Nine, was on his knees in the server room doorway, fingers clawing at the back of his own neck like he could rip the kill switch out with his bare hands. Mara stood frozen between the two men who wore the same face. One perfect.

​Julian checked the balcony, his rifle remaining locked on target as he stepped up the grand marble staircase, clearing every step before pulling Elena up beside him. ​At the end of the high glass corridor, behind a set of double-paned steel doors, Sterling was furiously keying commands into a master console. The blue glow of the terminal reflected off his sweating forehead as he attempted to trigger a total network wipe and unlock his private helipad on the roof. ​"Access denied," the console’s automated voice chimed smoothly. ​Sterling slammed his fist against the desk. "Override! Code alpha-nine-nine!" ​"The override port is already locked, Uncle," Elena’s velvet voice cut through the qui

The machine did. SUBJECT FIVE — ACTIVATION COMPLETE. My breath caught. “Subject Five.” Lucien looked at the screen. “You said he was a child.” Samuel’s expression changed. “He was.” “Where is he?” Samuel looked directly at me. “Standing in front of you.” I froze. “What?” The machine suddenly opened. A hidden chamber beneath the floor began rising. Everyone stepped back. Metal doors separated. Inside was a man. Alive. Barely moving. His body was covered with scars.

His grip was firm, steady, and entirely grounding, trying to pull me back from the dark edge of my rising fury. “Kael,” Lucien murmured low in his chest. “Read the log from twenty years ago, Julian,” I said, my silver-ringed eyes fixed on the terminal screen mounted beside the tank. Julian stepped up to the panel, plugging his bypass tool into the ancient interface. The blue screen flickered to life, displaying a handwritten medical log signed by a rogue High Conservatory geneticist named Dr. Aris. “Subject 109 has achieved full cellular stabilization,” Julian read aloud, his rough voice tight. “The Pure Omega strain has successfully bonded with the host marrow. Inquisitor Vane has ordered i

“But once you start, there’s no reversing it.” Mom laughed softly under her breath. Broken “There hasn’t been a reverse button for a very long time.” The house lights flickered violently. Then every screen in the kitchen lit up again. WARNING: TERMINATION THREAT DETECTED. The voice returned immediately “Preservation protocols activated.” The stranger’s face hardened. “It knows.” Mom grabbed the drive with shaking hands. “Where’s the core?” “Basement server room.” Tomás looked at me instantly. “You stay here.” “No.”

The rest of the messages seemed to be about menial stuff, and I exited out of it, scrolling through the rest of the messages and information. I'm finally able to read the notes that two of the employees that take part in the Testing in Main City, reading through the strange abbreviations and terms I don't understand. Through context, I'm able to see that it was in fact Celia that they're observing, subject #C555. She's going through all the tests with flying colors. I freeze as I read the next paragraph. "...subject #C555 has been tested to terminate rogue Senator Shayla Connors. Subject has passed and is confirmed for leveling up."

I knew that this was a killing machine with no moral or conscience. “That is the first successful one, it has been alive for fourteen days,” a cold feminine voice said. I turned and saw a dark-haired woman in a lab coat. “We did not think you were ever going to come.” “Who are you?” Sia asked. “I am doctor Strahovsky,” she replied. “Welcome to the Den.”

Somewhere high above, Maddox bellowed: "Security breach in Sublevel Nine. Contain the asset." Asset. That was all she was to them but to me, she was everything. The final door required biometric access. I grasped the guard I'd released a second ago and pressed his palm on the reader. The lock closed. It was colder in here and darker. Monitors lined all four walls, with images of brains and heat maps. She lay on a metal table now—bound down, wires on her temples and an IV delivering who-knew-what into her veins.

“What does it show?” Damian pressed play. The footage began. The camera angle showed a sterile research room filled with monitors and equipment. Two doctors stood near a glass observation chamber. The timestamp glowed in the corner of the screen. Five years ago. One of the doctors spoke into a recorder. “Trial log recording. Project Aurora. Subject verification beginning.” The second doctor glanced at a tablet. “Subject identification: S-V-017.” Evelyn felt her chest tighten. Silas. The doctor continued.

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.