Scp-661 Novels & Stories

Not wasting a moment, we rush into the room and find several scientists and guards trying to subdue a fully enraged Samael in demon form. Mikhail’s eyes widen as he takes in his father for the first time. The guards use taser guns to subdue him while the scientists try to inject him, but Samael is resisting. We don’t hesitate to join the fray. The scientist’s eyes widen with fear as soon as they see us. “Kill them!” one of the scientists calls out to the guards.

His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, neither of us moves. The voice on the other end of the line speaks. "Ken, are you okay?" Ken, short for Kendrick? My hands turn clammy. My head spins. He doesn't break eye contact. After what feels like forever, he responds. "Yes, I am. Call me when you get back." He ends the call. I collapse onto the floor, my veil slipping loose around my neck. Kendrick. The scar. The wheelchair. Kendrick Harrold is alive.

Luckily, these four were also new recruits who went down like dominoes getting hit by a pickup truck. The moment Jo turned back around, noting that they were at the exit for the twenty-eight floor, her IAC crackled, and then, a new voice was in her head. “Scott? Son? Are you really here?” “Dad!” Scott shouted, both aloud and through the IAC. “Yes. Do you know what floor you’re on?” “Scott, I really think you should leave. I don’t see how you can do this. We are surrounded by a few hundred Vampires at the moment, and Cassidy said it’s just you and Jo. You’ll never make it.”

I held his eyes for a moment and shrugged again. “Am I supposed to panic? Knock yourself out. Not like you don’t know the story already, right? So? The coordinates?” He chuckled under his breath and made me turn to the table and pointed at the plot land map. “The iron thing checks. Now we gotta go check the other five.” His words felt like a slap in the back of my head. “Wait! Six coordinates, six stars, six ghosts. Too much of a—” “Holy shit! Three sixes like in 666? What the fuck’s going on here? Is it some kind of portal to hell?”

Damien had his hand on my shoulder, grounding me. “Take a breath,” he said. I took one. Then nodded. “Again,” I whispered. Victor hesitated. “Elena too much at once could cause neural fracturing.” “Do it anyway.” --- Memory Two: The Chair. Metal restraints bit into my wrists. A circle of cold faces stared down at me, all masked. “Subject 6.3 is responding. Neural pathways forming abnormally fast” said a voice. Another replied: “Her emotional processing is higher than the rest. Dangerous.”

Scarlett clicked open the full file. The terminal whirred softly. A new document appeared. Transfer Notes Confidential Her eyes scanned the text. Subject Seven demonstrates exceptional early cognitive response and adaptive emotional resilience. The maternal guardian insists transfer is necessary for long-term protection. Protection. Her breath caught. Protection from what? Dominic leaned closer. "There's another page." Scarlett opened it. A recorded voice file blinked on the screen. Her heart slammed against her ribs. The date was fifteen years old. Her trembling finger pressed play.

“Alright.” As they took the left corridor, the hum of old machinery returned—an unnatural sound, too rhythmic to be background noise. Damien's hand instinctively rested on his weapon. Aurora moved closer, tense but composed. Then, they found it. A large, circular vault door stood at the end of the hallway, with a biometric scanner and rusted keypad. The sign above read: SUBJECT NULL – RESTRICTED. LEVEL 6 CLEARANCE REQUIRED. Damien’s heart pounded. “We’re here.”

A thin red line was moving across it. “That’s not a security alarm.” Marcus stared. “It’s a containment failure.” Victor’s face changed. “She’s getting out.” My blood went cold. “Who?” Victor looked directly at me. “The First Serael.” The corridor shook violently. A deep sound came from beneath the floor. Like something ancient had just awakened. Marcus stepped backward. “We have to leave.” Lucien pulled me toward the exit. “Then let’s move.” We reached the archive room. Marcus slammed his hand against the wall.

“Barrister Gabriel Mitchell called ten minutes ago. The Security Bureau has issued a Level-One Capture Order. Special police are authorized to deploy heavy high-frequency silver ammunition and carry out... immediate physical elimination... should they encounter any shapeshifting resistance.” “So old Samuel thinks that by finding a few vampires as backers and releasing this childish little video, he can take away my position as Alpha leader?” Colin turned around. A cold, mocking smile curved across his thin lips. Before he could finish speaking—

He received a detailed report from his subordinate about the attack on the safe house where Lucas’s located, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the wooden desk, a sign of his deep concern. He promptly made a call to the UN's top secret Division for Paranormal Affairs, located on the Malta Island. "Howard," Antonio's voice was firm yet laced with urgency, "regarding our agent under the alias 'Wolf66,' I need you to erase all traces of him. An investigation is looming, and you must deny any knowledge of him. The CIA no longer acknowledges an agent by this name."