Scp-993 Novels & Stories

After remembering for the eighth time that I am the real heiress to the wealthy Fletcher family, my brothers are about to hypnotize me again for the ninth time. My three older brothers, Dustin, Dominic, and Derek Fletcher, make me draw lots to decide the role that I'm going to have to assume after I'm hypnotized. The three lots are labeled "fake heiress", "the maid's daughter", and "the impoverished student the family is sponsoring". "Draw one." I don't move a muscle. Dustin's face turns grim first. "If you still want to continue living in the Fletcher household, Autumn, then stop trying to steal Daphne's identity away from her!" Dominic frowns and says impatiently, "Can't you be more

The floor opened beneath our feet. “Seraphina!” Lucien grabbed my waist and pulled me backward just as a section of concrete collapsed into darkness. A deafening roar rose from beneath the estate. Then the lights came back on. Every screen flashed red. FINAL PROTOCOL INITIATED. SUBJECT 001 — FULL AWAKENING SUBJECT 000 — LOCATED SUBJECT 002 — LOYALTY TEST REQUIRED I stared at the last line. “Loyalty test?”

One by one, I got each of them on the record confirming the photos were real, and confirming the woman in them was Sheila. I left the recorder on the bedside table next to my mother's death certificate, picked up the suitcase I had already packed, and walked out of the Veil estate. Julian called me during the pool party to check how I was feeling. The voicemail message clicked on, mechanical and cold. “The number you have dialed is no longer in service.”

I rolled my eyes in sheer disbelief and signaled for the track manager to come over. "Hi, could I see the surveillance footage from this area?" Caleb looked up in shock when he heard that. The manager knew I had come with Selene, so he quickly had someone pull the footage. Panicking, Caleb tried to stop him. "N-No, you can't!" Catching the flicker of confusion in Clara's eyes, he stammered, "C-Clara, do you not believe me? Why would you need to check the footage?"

I kept muttering, "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, Mom…" Rina followed close behind me, and she frowned before she got near me. "You're crazy, Micah. How can you do something so embarrassing in public? Do you really think I will allow you to continue doing whatever you want?" However, Rina suddenly stopped in her tracks when she saw the face of the person in my arms. She turned pale as she backed away and said in a quivering voice, "No, this isn't possible. Is your mother really dead? Why does that body look exactly like her?"

My legs felt like lead, so heavy I could barely move them without my knees buckling. “What have you done?!” I yelled. Henri snickered. “Whatever you are will be over today. Then we will chain you and bury you militia style for our Unit Nine.” Unit Nine. My eyes widened as memories flashed through my mind. Level Nine, the hidden facility, the experiments…. “Captain?” I whispered. Captain Reev answered from the phone. “You’ve got something there, Henri. Keep him calm.” I forced a weak laugh even though my body was shutting down. “Where did you get the tranq from, Captain? Tell me.”

Catherine looked at the rescued subjects. "The tribunal asked the survivors if they wished to make statements regarding your sentence. Twenty-two of the twenty-three declined. They said they had nothing more to say to you. They wanted only for you to disappear from their lives. But one survivor did wish to speak. Subject 92, would you please stand?" A man rose. Mid-forties. Scarred from radiation experiments. Blind in one eye from neural enhancement attempts. "Subject 92 is Dr. Richard Chen. He was genetic researcher before the freeze. Captured in 2015. Imprisoned for nine years. Used for experiments because Hammond valued his scientific knowledge. Dr. Chen, please address the tribunal."

He stumbled a step forward, only to have my bodyguard press the muzzle of a gun against his chest. "Elena..." He spoke, his voice raspy as if it had been rubbed against sandpaper, carrying a heartbreaking plea. "Please, hear me out. Just ten minutes... no, five minutes is enough." He completely ignored the bodyguard's threat. trembling as he pulled a stack of rain-soaked documents and a velvet box filled with red diamonds from his jacket. "This is the transfer paperwork for all assets under the Moretti family name. The Manhattan ports, the casinos in Atlantic City, the ancestral properties in Sicily, and all the overseas trusts in my name. And the red diamonds I owe you..."

On the walls were faded project logs, scattered files, and rusted nameplates. Lena stopped beside a cracked window and ran her fingers across a line of text etched into the glass. “Subject Pair 09-A / 09-B — Phase Three: Emotional Convergence.” Her throat went dry. “That’s us.” Adrian joined her, eyes scanning the line. “Then this is where it started.” Something flickered at the far end of the corridor — a monitor flashing to life with static. Then another. And another. “Adrian,” Lena whispered.

Damien turned to Elara. “They became ghosts.” Splice zoomed in on one particular file: Subject Echo-9. A redacted profile appeared—gender listed as female, age unknown, location: Garden Metro. But what froze the room was the image embedded in the file. A child’s drawing. Crude. Childlike. But undeniably powerful. A small girl holding hands with a woman in a white lab coat—presumably her mother. The girl had a red scarf around her neck, and a name written in crooked handwriting on the bottom of the drawing: