Scp-975 Novels & Stories

The alarms blared. Red light swept across the lab, painting the glass walls in flashes. Dr. Hattie Quinn's hands shook as she typed into the terminal. “No, no, no, containment was secure.” Her throat felt tight. “It was secure.” A shadow moved beyond the glass in a predatory movement. Then he stepped into view. Subject X-9. He shouldn’t have looked so… human. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with silver veins glowing faintly under his skin. His eyes were wrong though, they were a burning gold and were locked on her as if she were prey.

Like seeing someone from a dream you forgot. Its head tilted slowly. Studying me. The scientist smiled. “Prototype Zero.” A pause. “Meet Ariana.” Silence. Then— the thing spoke. Its voice sounded distorted. Broken. Mechanical. Human. All at once. “…Subject… Nine.” My blood turned cold. Subject Nine. Me. How did it know that? Damien stepped forward instantly. “You don’t come near her.” Prototype Zero looked at him. Then back at me. Its expression changed slightly.

It was chained to the rock with massive, glowing runes—Taoist binding spells that had been corrupted by time. "Subject 004-Delta," Caleb’s voice shifted slightly, the analytical tone of the AI blending seamlessly with his own observations. "Designation: The Cinder-Husk. Status: Dormant. Threat Level: Extreme." "It's not just dormant," Scarlett whispered, pulling out her jade brush. "It's suffering. Look at the chains. They aren't holding it; they're feeding on it. This thing is a living battery." "Then we put it out of its misery," Caleb said. He didn't transform into his wolf form. Instead, he simply took off his jacket, revealing the intricate, silver tattoos that now covered his arms—the

My throat tightened as I clicked a video file labeled: Prototype 7. The footage flickered to life. Maria sat behind a sleek desk, her expression calm and deliberate. “The subject Scarlett Maria Devereux exhibits strong adaptive instincts, emotional volatility, and high persuasion thresholds. Predicted outcome: ideal candidate for control transfer.” Control transfer. I scrolled to the next document a contract signed under Damien Cole’s name, dated before Maria’s death. Subject assigned: Scarlett M. Devereux. Objective: integrate emotional dependency and ensure asset compliance. I couldn’t breathe.

Marcus grabbed an iron rod from broken railing and struck one across the jaw. Roselyn, wounded and furious, kicked another into shattered glass. Sabine dragged Clara behind a fallen console. The child did not run. She simply watched. Father backed toward the central column. For the first time truly defensive. Because every prototype ignored everyone else now. They wanted him. The younger Clara looked at Aurelia and spoke quickly. “There is a file beneath the cylinder. Code seven-nine-one. It contains your origin, his name, and why father erased him.” Aurelia turned instantly toward the platform.

Not since Elia. I open the encrypted drive I swore I’d never touch again. The one labeled Archive 7. It’s filled with fragments of reports, security logs, transfer records, every breadcrumb I collected after Elia vanished. And at the very end of it, a name I never could make sense of. Subject 29, Relocation Authorized. Custodian: S. Smith. The timestamp is fourteen years old. Same year as the photo. My stomach turns. I click open the attached document, heavily redacted, but one line remains clear:

Names began to scroll. Personality Templates: • MIA – Conflict Mediator • REX – Executive Strategist • LENA – Emotional Core Support • GRAY – Security Compliance Elias stiffened. “GRAY?” Charlotte zoomed in. A Ward-series clone. Active. Suddenly, Shade’s voice hit the channel. Urgent. “We have movement. You’ve got heat signatures shifting back to corridor C-9. Someone’s staying behind.” Elias froze. “Who?” “Looks like an admin override user.”

N Protocol - Subject 07" Her hands trembled as she opened it. A series of medical reports filled the screen growth charts, DNA enhancements, emotional suppression records. And the she saw it. Subject Name: Aurora Collins Status: Contained - Relocation initiated Located: Facilty Delta - Sector 9 Jessica covered her mouth, tears flooding her eyes. Aurora. That was her baby's name. The one she'd whispered before the world burned. Behind her, the faintest creak of floorboards broke the silence. She spun, weapon drawn but her breath hitched when she saw the figure emerging from the shadows.

As the Static Blanket dissolved, the vacuum left behind was filled with a new kind of sound, a high-pitched, metallic whine that vibrated in the teeth of every shifter in the city. ​Leo Vane stood in the center of the Chiyoda plaza, his boots crunching on the glass shards of the Ghost-Tower. Around him, millions of people were stumbling out of buildings, clutching their heads, their neural-links glowing white-hot as they disconnected from the Architect’s grid. ​"Leo, we have to move," Ren shouted, his eyes fixed on his frequency-mapper. "The Shadow Council isn't just sending drones. They’ve triggered Protocol 99." ​"What is Protocol 99?" Maya asked, her golden Force flaring as she shielded a

He held a tablet, its surface flashing a crimson encryption warning. “I gave orders not to be disturbed,” Kael said without turning. His voice was low, even. Too even. “You’ll want this,” Marcus replied. “Our deep-web monitors intercepted a Level Nine transmission.” Kael’s gaze shifted at last. Level Nine meant only one thing. The High Council. He took the tablet. Code scrolled across the screen—dense, layered, lethal. His eyes tracked it instantly, translating without effort. Subject: Anomaly Detected Location: Sector Seven – Moon Pack Territory