Scp-683 Novels & Stories

“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.”

"I say yes… I choose you… I choose us." Adrian's entire body tenses, the mark on his neck flares brighter, the bond between us becomes visible for just a moment. A thread of gold connecting us. Then the bunker's alarm system changes, not alarms anymore but a broadcast. Someone's voice echoing through the entire paranormal system. "This is Dominic Voss, Council of Elders. Effective immediately, a new paranormal government is being established and the human known as Bella Marchant is declared a paranormal threat. Apprehend or eliminate on sight."

Then— She saw it. A flash. A door. Faintly stamped near the biometric panel: Level VI. Her eyes widened. “It was… it was the door right after the failed test. When the doctor came running in screaming, ‘It worked!’—the scream came right before that. I remember now... the door had Level VI printed on it, clear as day.” Charles shot up from his seat. “Then that’s where they’re keeping the real project. Not the demo floor with the animals, not the staged trials. Level VI holds the key.”

“Scarlett’s proxies aren’t just programs—they’ve hijacked agencies, assets. Digital and flesh.” “Which means she’s not dead,” Liam said, jaw clenched. “She’s not alive either,” Tamar added from across the room. “We’re dealing with a consciousness embedded in code. A synthetic shadow of her mind.” Richter stepped forward, grim as ever. “We need to strike before she stabilizes.” I looked up. “How?” He tapped the map projected on the center table. “A fragment of her was traced to the Zenith Vault in Zurich. If she consolidates her presence there, she can rebuild physically.”

But Spider moved like shadow between shadows. She wore a cleaning uniform and an accent thick enough to fool the guards. The cameras never saw her slip that flash drive into the central system. Never noticed the scentless gas she left in the vents—slow-acting, memory-clouding. By midnight, she was in the vault. Files. Names. Photos. Children. She didn’t flinch. Until she saw a photo labeled: “Athens Holding. Cassiopeia Blackwood . Priority Leverage.” Her blood ran cold.

Their elite shock troops were reduced to a writhing, incapacitated mob in seconds. Amidst the chaos, Jack found a chilling connection. The specific energy signature of the psychic dampeners, the way they interacted with lycanthrope neurology, was eerily similar to fragments of data he had seen in his parents' last, cryptic message. It mentioned a rogue military project, codenamed 'Cerberus,' designed to control and weaponize supernatural beings. The Iron Claw weren't just using Council technology; they were using a perverted, weaponized version of his own family's research.

No orders — just motion. “Where did you find that tag?” Evelyn asked. Rhea sat beside her, the firelight flickering across her scarred cheek. “I didn’t,” she said. “You did. That’s why we came.” Evelyn frowned. “What are you talking about?” “You screamed. Three days ago, from somewhere near Hollowmere. Like your bones remembered something your mind doesn’t. That kind of scream carries.” She looked over at Evelyn, steady and unblinking. “We’ve been tracking the ones they called ‘control-class.’ You were E-113. S-019 was the one they couldn’t contain.”

He hesitated. "What about 6-A?" Dimitri demanded. "She's targeting something different. Not supernatural leadership... human leadership. Specifically, the UN Security Council members who are aware of supernatural existence. The goal is to eliminate anyone who could negotiate peace between humans and supernaturals. Force both sides into war." The implications crashed over Anya. "When?" "Coordinated strikes in ten days. During the full moon, when supernatural powers are at peak but also most visible to human observation. The attacks will be filmed, broadcast, used as proof that supernatural are too dangerous to coexist with humanity."

Not a Reaper, not a drone…but a black sphere, shimmering, humming low like a death song. It pulsed once. A voice echoed through the chamber: "Unauthorized presence. Resurrection protocol denied. Backup override initiated." "It's trying to wipe her," I said. Null screamed. "No! If she's erased, the root dies. And all of us with it!" The sphere opened. Needles of light. A soft hum of deletion. Subject 13 stepped forward. For the first time, his voice rang strong. "I won't let you touch her." He pressed his palm to the bone chair.