Scp 860 2 Novels & Stories

Between this morning and all the crap he was doing tonight, he was feeling the toll on his body. Scott pulled the armchair over, under the other vent, and went through the same routine. The screws were too tight. The equipment was gone. Vanished. In the living room. The bedroom. The kitchen. And the fucking office. The office was worse, because not only were the camera and microphone gone, but so was the transmitter. What the hell had happened? He pulled out his phone and hit the icon for his contact at Good Global. The line never even rang. "The number you have dialed has been disconnected-"

“What do you have to say to the victims of this inhumane act” Scar sat calmly throughout out not answering any questions,her timer beeped, She stood up and cleared her throat,the hall fell into silence, “I'm currently representing Liet and won't be answering questions concerning my personal life,when you meet me elsewhere you can ask me” “but you nearly ran over us this morning” “Yes you have a bad temper” Scar turned to Summer with a side smile as she walked out, Summer leaned over the microphone, “I was the one driving,and I don't know what you are talking about,and so you know,our fashion show still holds,keep that in mind”

Yachne took a peek at the laptop screen. EVERYTHING ON YOUR COMPUTER GOT CORRUPTED. CODE 28012 CLEARED ITS TRACKS.

ISLA'S POV Gabriel's SUV. Vernon Boulevard. 5:14 PM. I’m sitting in the passenger seat, the leather warming against my back, but the chill inside my bones won't leave. Gabriel is behind the wheel. Between us, on the dashboard, sits the small brass key. Number 847 stamped on the head. Metal that smells like pennies and old sweat. Gabriel pulls out his phone. The screen glow illuminates his knuckles. "I have a contact at a security company. They maintain databases of legacy safe deposit systems. Let me run the serial number."

There was a dragon tattooed down his whole back. Looked so lifelike. I was half expecting it to start moving. My eyes trailed further down to his lower back, where the letters S.I.X were inscribed. So wait six isn't actually a number, but an acronym? He turned slightly, enough for me to get a view of his front, but not for him to see me standing there.