Scp-732 Novels & Stories

Arthur said. He dragged her toward the edge of the violet pool. The liquid was humming a sound so loud it felt like it was vibrating the teeth in Maya’s head. Mother... The twins kicked. It wasn't a fight this time. It was a warning. They felt the pool. They felt the hunger of the Root. "Seven! Do something!" Maya yelled, looking back toward the pod. Seven was standing in the doorway with her face looking like a mask of terror. She held a small, silver disc; a high-yield thermal detonator she had pulled from the pod’s emergency kit. Her thumb was hovering over the trigger.

He wasn't a student, and he wasn't a teacher. ​He was an Obsidian Scout, one of the elite few Darius had sent ahead of the main extraction team. ​"Subject 7—the Sterling girl—is showing increased heart rate and body temperature," the scout whispered into his comms. "The digital sabotage by the local alpha-female is working. The subject's emotional distress is triggering her essence." ​"Good," a voice crackled back—Darius’s voice, cold and distant. "Let her simmer. We need her power to reach a peak before we move. What about the Commander?"

“And what will they do when they cannot?” I laughed, and I felt like it was real for the first time in days. “Then they will see how it feels to be scared.” Way up above the forest, in the Council ship, was a new voice in the clamor of command. “All hunters, pull back. Subject 7 is unstable.” Another voice whispered, “She’s getting accustomed too fast." A black screen made out a figure upon it, tall, female, with eyes that glowed violet rather than gold. ‘Order the Reclaimers,” she said, in a voice of ice upon steel.

A figure stepped into the room. Tall and slender, they were clad in a sleek, charcoal-grey jumpsuit that seemed to absorb the blinding white light, almost erasing them against the stark background. Their face was unreadable, framed by short, dark hair pulled back severely from a high forehead. Eyes, dark and piercing, scanned Thomas with an unnerving intensity, devoid of any discernible emotion. They carried no weapons, no files, no visible accoutrements, only a slim tablet held in one hand, its screen glowing faintly. "Subject 734," the figure stated, their voice a low, modulated hum, perfectly even, devoid of inflection. It wasn't a question, but a pronouncement. Thomas flinched, the numbe

“They didn’t destroy the prototypes. They stored them.” “And fed on them,” a new voice said behind them. Evryn spun. Someone had joined them on the lift. A tall, pale figure in a technician’s coat, eyes glowing with a dull amber light. But it wasn’t human. Not anymore. “I’m Iteration 07. They left me awake,” it said. Evryn narrowed her eyes. “Why?” “Because I remembered too much,” 07 said quietly. “And now, so will you.” Suddenly, the lift jerked to a stop. The platform doors slid open, revealing a spherical chamber filled with floating data glyphs, all spiraling around a monolithic core. It pulsed slowly, like a sleeping heart.

"Feeling things is what makes me reliable. I won't let another child suffer because of Project Seventh. Tell me where she is." Wraith's hand shook violently, gun barrel pressed against her temple, finger on the trigger. Dimitri calculated angles, could he disarm her before she fired? Sixty percent chance. Not good enough. "Site Seven, outside Denver," Wraith whispered. "Her designation is Subject 3-A. They call her Ana. She has my eyes." A tear tracked down her face. "Promise me. Promise me she'll know I tried to save her." "I promise," Anya said. "Now put down the gun."

And in the dark corners of that tapestry, the Sovereign Seven were moving. "They think they’re invisible, Caspian," I said, my voice echoing in the cold, high-altitude air of the Richard Tower’s balcony. My head was throbbing, a rhythmic pulse that matched the Grid’s heartbeat. "But they aren't. They’re using Deep-Vibration Analog. They’re communicating through the resonance of the city's old pipe systems. They think it’s a dead zone, but to my link, it’s a scream."

Elias lifted his head— and saw Kass typing rapidly at a console. “What are you doing?!” Alexander shouted. Kass smiled coldly. “Ending this chapter.” She pressed the final key. A deep alarm shook the chamber. CONTAINMENT PROTOCOL: SELF-PURGE INITIATED. Alexander’s eyes widened. “Oh no. NO—NO—LENA, GET UP—WE HAVE TO MOVE—” Sable’s voice crackled over the intercom from somewhere above. “Alex! Elias! The entire level is about to detonate! They’re purging Sub-Level Seven!”

I really wanted to stay with our kids, but stopping this new threat was a main priority now. Sophia looked thoughtful, then pointed to a specific configuration near the edge of her pattern. "Here. Where Mommy and Daddy are going. The biggest door is almost open." Her finger moved to another section. "And here. Close to us. The crying man sent shadows to find me." Alex went alert, and I gasped, grabbing Liam's arm. Reid looked around before grabbing her communication device. She meant business and also promised me in my office that she would protect us all with her life if it came down to it. Her apologies for my younger years were an everyday thing. She always felt bad that she didn't stop t

Bigfoot, Loch Ness monster; were they all wondering around these halls, just waiting to snap her up for a midnight snack? “Many," he said with a careless shrug. "I'm not sure of the exact number, but the Coven is the court for our world. There are hundreds here at any time.” “Of course," she mumbled bitterly. It only made sense for her to land in the Grand Central Station of the immortal world. Fabulous. "Paoli is a vampire, I'm apparently half-demon, and you claim you're 'complicated'," she counted them off. She put finger quotes around the word 'complicated'; a testament to how infuriated she felt since she never air quoted.