AGreenSquidKid

remember to wash your hands

this image has nothing to do with the following content it's just a friendly reminder.

Hello!
My name is A Green Squid Kid!
I like writing, drawing, animating, and drinking the blood of children in my spare time.
I have a Youtube channel: I make animations, many of which are SCP related

Published works:
SCP-5731 Dolittle's Music Box
The Rainbow Baby
Art page

I use this a lot so I'm saving the link here
Link

I also created the theme of this page.

+ You can use it by copy and pasting all this

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Part 1

Think about the last time you got sunburnt. Maybe you spent the day at the beach, or maybe the park. Did you spend it with family? Did you forget the sunblock at home? Or could you just not be bothered to put it on? Think about that day. Was the warm sun just too alluring? Maybe you had waited all winter for a nice day like that one. You laid out yourself on the grass or the sand, and you let your skin bake. It felt good, at the time. That evening your face and back were red, and you lay on your bed as someone else rubbed lotion on you- or perhaps you did the lotion application yourself, yelping and crying with every subtle movement. But you felt better in another day or two. Sunburns can heal.

At least, that kind of sunburn can heal.

I think I must have turned twenty now. Two whole decades… although to be honest, only the last two weeks have been noteworthy. The last two weeks have been the most noteworthy in all of human history, and if I’m optimistic, I’d say my species has about two more weeks until total extinction.

I break from my brooding about the end times and tilt my head to the sky. The blinding red sun is at high noon. I have one hand around the pistol at my thigh, and the other resting on the pack I’m wearing on my front, reflexively guarding the priceless cargo inside.

I glance at the gun. I only have two bullets left. Two bullets is all that’s needed to do both Trinity and I in, but I know I’ll never bring myself to do it. Whether that makes me brave or a coward is up for debate.

From my perch, I can see the vast cityscape I call home, and I can see one of them, about a mile away. It looks to be about the size of a school bus- not the biggest I’ve seen, but not one I’m willing to clash with. Especially with just two bullets.

The gelatinous mound turns its body away from where I watch, although it takes me a moment to figure out which side is the front. I can still hear it growling and moaning, even through the distance and my head-wrap. It clambers through the wrecked streets using dozens of limbs that are randomly located around its body. I stand still like a deer. Fitting, isn’t it? Humans aren’t really the apex predator these days. These things are. Or -I look towards the sun again- maybe the sun’s the real predator here. I tighten the knot on my head-wrap. If the tiniest bit of skin gets exposed, I’m dead. I’ll become one of them.

When I’m sure the monster is out of sight, I latch the window and bound down the fire escape, leaving the shelter of my apartment, praying I’ll find something for the both of us to eat.

I remember these streets before everything went wrong. I remember the cleaner but crowded sidewalks. Now they’re deserted, but covered in fluids from the monsters- stuff that resembles blood and puss, but I’m not willing to get close enough to find out. Trinity and I might be the last ones alive in the whole city. We might be the last ones alive in the whole world.

The skyscrapers tower like bony fingers scraping at the blood-red sky. I turn a corner, recalling the layout of the city from its better days. Down the block there’s a grocery store I’ve been raiding lately. I tread lightly, my back to the walls of the buildings. I enter the store and move right past aisles of fruits and frozen goods. They all went bad weeks ago, and now it reeks of rotten eggs and milk in the whole store.

It’s cooler and darker in the store, but not dark enough for me to feel safe. Hateful rays of light still leak in from the entrance, reaching in with hunger, hoping I’ll slip up and they can add me to the ranks of the monsters. I climb over a tipped shelf to reach the canned food in the back. I shovel cans of corn and beef off the shelves and into my open bag.

There’s a skitter. My head shoots up. I can see one of the monsters. It’s rooting through a puddle of rotting eggs. Something that might have once been a woman’s face smears into the yokes. I remind myself that it’s not a woman anymore, even if it looks like it. The monster is pretty small. It might only have two or three creatures inside it. Maybe she and her dog or cat got stuck together. No! It! Not she! This is not a human, don’t forget it. I bite my tongue for empathizing with the creature that sits a few yards from me, drooling on the floor from its mouths and noses.

I take a step back, but the creature immediately notices me. I draw my gun in an instant.

“Hello…” it drawls. “Isn’t it a lovely day?”

“No, I’d have to disagree,” I snap, although I’m sure it’s unlikely the creature can actually understand me. They can only parrot words.

“The sun is so warm…”

I shoot it in the face, or at least, one of its faces. It recoils with a growl. I pivot and run off, throwing a shelf behind me to slow it down. I trip on something, and flip over in midair to land on my back instead, protecting my front pack from getting squished. My spine cracks into the cans of food in my backpack. I hear a watery footstep and the creature gets closer.

I aim and fire at it again, but I don’t stick around long enough to see if I hit it. I sprint through the city in a sort of quiet frenzy. I know that if I’m loud enough, I’ll wake up the whole neighborhood, which is especially bad when all your neighbors are blob-monsters.

I bound up the firescape to my apartment on all fours. I throw open my window and somersault inside. I lie on my side for half a minute, trying to get my heart rate under control. After shutting the window, checking and rechecking the light blockers over the glass, I begin to feel a bit safe. Which, to be honest, is a risky feeling to have these days.

It’s so dark I can barely see in here, but that’s how I like it. I remove my front pack and unzip the top. A faint smile dares to creep across my face. She’s asleep.

I lift Trinity out of the pack and lay her on my shoulder. I wish she was a bit older. Then I’d have the courage to leave her here alone. Her mother used to watch her when I went out but… well, let’s just say my wife used the third-to-last bullet.

Caroline was supposed to be the stable one. When we talked about survival scenarios and obsessed over zombie movies, she always had ideas for how to overcome them. She was the one who knew how to survive the end of the world. Not me. I’m the one that dies on the first day.

I’m not going to be the first one to die. I have someone to protect.

The morning this all started, Trinity happened to be in our bed. She’d been fussy the night before so we took her out of her cradle to be with us. That morning, sun beams beat down on the mattress where she normally lay.

We woke up late that morning to emergency notifications from the government, warning us to stay inside, to hide ourselves from the sunlight at any cost. We spent a lot of the afternoon listening to the radio for more information. “Come to Site-19” they said, as if I know where that is. All I know is that if a single human out there has hope things will get better, maybe I should consider having hope too.

The doctor sat unmoving at the table, his gloved hands folded, his shoulders slouched from the weight of the metal bag bolted around his head. He dared not move, he dared not lift his head, terrified to meet the eyes of another. An intercom switched on and a voice came from the next room over.

“Hello, 049. My name is Researcher Taylor. I’m just here to ask a few questions about your… recent changes.”

SCP-049 did not move. “… I do not know what is wrong with me, or how that came to be.”

“We know, but could you, in your words, describe the hours leading to the incident with Researcher Ali?”

“If I must,” the doctor sighed. “I awoke at some point early that morning, feeling feverish. A sickening depression pierced me. I was too miserable to get up and perform a self-examination to determine if I was ill. I haven’t felt like that ever before, even in the darkest and most hopeless times of my existence.” SCP-049 paused.

“… and then Ali came in to check on you?” said Taylor.

SCP-049 laughed lightly. “… and found me wailing like a child. Just to be blunt.”

“And then?”

“Oh, for the love of God! What are you throwing a tantrum about this time?” SCP-049 said with a note of sarcasm. “This time is what he said…”

“You’re in a surprisingly good mood, despite everything.”

“… a good mood? The nauseating sadness that awoke me never subsided, even after Ali was dead,” SCP-049 growled. He reached out and blindly pointed ahead. “I am jesting you to help myself cope with the sting of hellfire in my throat. I know every pain as if it were my own. I am the widow murdered and the child starved. I am the father at the grave of his child and the sickly elder dying alone. The suffering of a thousand generations burns in my mind. A good mood! Ha!”

“Is the Pestilence there too?”

“No… it’s not.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Since this morning I have not sensed it.”

“So it’s been cured?”

“That is wishful thinking, I’m afraid. Rather, my ability to sense it has disappeared, which means we are in greater danger than before. I cannot even make sense of notes I wrote a few days ago.”

“So then, what happened when Ali saw you?”

SCP-049 raised his head slowly. “He became the scapegoat for all that suffering, the cause of all that pain,” the doctor whispered, “The next thing I remember was standing over what was left of him, drenched in his blood.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Before all of this I would have said yes. He died painfully, and he was in good health when he did. He shouldn’t have died. But after feeling the rage his eyes struck me with… I believe it was what needed to happen.”

“And the others you killed?”

“I couldn’t have stopped what happened if I wanted to.”

The voice on the intercom went silent for a few seconds. “Thank you for the information, SCP-049. I have been cleared to inform you of our theory on what may have happened. It’s a bit strange-”

“I am familiar with what you consider ‘strange’, sir.”

“You are exhibiting the capabilities of another SCP. SCP-096 is an entity that kills anyone who sees its face. Your recent behavior- the depression, the rage, the killings- they mirror it exactly. Well, except for SCP-096 was never sapient, so you have certainly given us a new perspective on it.”

“So then… why have I taken on this creature’s behavior?”

“That’s just it. You haven’t. You, and a whole lot of other anomalies have swapped abilities. We don’t know why it happened or how to revert it, but someone else has your deadly touch and your ‘sense for the Pestilence’. This has become a matter of finding which anomaly belongs to which SCP before there is too much collateral damage.”

“…and if that is the case, who now possesses my abilities?”

The old man was just about as dissatisfied with his new powers as the plague doctor had been, but for the opposite reason. The doctor killed when necessary, SCP-106 killed for the fun of it. The ability to instantly and painlessly put a target to sleep was just about the most disappointing power for a monster who enjoyed toying with those he hunted.

To make matters worse, he didn’t even have access to his pocket dimension. And that meant he couldn’t even get out of his cage to hunt. Some Keter he was. The more the old man sulked, the more angry he became, and the more he noticed the stench of something new seeping from the humans that patrolled around his containment.

Pestilence.

They all reeked of disease. They were all too far gone to save, but they were too disgusting and pig-headed to be worth saving. The old man stood and stumbled to a wall. He pressed his face against it. His senses silhouetted everyone outside so strongly that he could almost see them. Someone ran the length of the old man’s cell. SCP-106 crept against the wall nearest to the person and grinned. Only a few inches of metal between the two of them kept that man alive.

An alarm went off. They must’ve known that SCP-106 was awake. He growled in frustration. There would be no hunt that night, not in this pathetic state.

There was one SCP that was enjoying the evening. The sculpture held a screaming man in its grip, watching as his face melted and corroded away. SCP-173 tossed the dead man aside and sank into the ground.

It resurfaced in the center of an MTF squad. They had arrived to deal with the escaped statue, but now one half wet themselves and the other half dropped their weapons and ran. SCP-173 stood fearlessly in their gaze, rolling its head and flexing its tiny arms, taunting them, showing them that, yes, I can move. And absolutely nothing can stop me now.

SCP 096 had no idea anything had changed. It lay on the floor, knees to its chest, feeling slightly less sad than usual. But it was unlikely that it would ever find out that it could be paralyzed when in line of sight, because no one would ever, ever have the guts to look at it.

2/XXXX LEVEL 2/XXXX

CLASSIFIED

Item #: SCP-XXXX

Euclid

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Instances of SCP-X

Special Containment Procedures:
Instances of SCP-X are kept in Aquarium #4 at Area 12. They are fed fresh meat once weekly, and the tank is cleaned monthly. Another aquarium has been installed in SCP-X-A's office for her personal use. Should SCP-X-A transform unpredictably, personnel are permitted to carry her to the nearest water source to prevent her from suffocating.

Description:
SCP-X refers to twelve specimens, which are biologically similar to the Teuthida family. Each specimen is labelled SCP-X-1 to -12. They can be differentiated by the markings on their mantles.
SCP-X-A refers to Dr. Mariah Green, a Foundation employee affected by SCP-X-1’s venom.
SCP-X-1 was a female that was 94 cm in height and weighed 8.7 kilograms.
SCP-X-2 through -12 consists of seven males and four females. They are smaller than SCP-X-1, averaging 30 cm and 0.4 kilograms.

Blood sample from a prior host of an SCP-X instance

SCP-X reproduces via eggs and spawning. Instances of SCP-X can be identified from their non-anomalous counterparts by their unique beak-shape, which has radial symmetry with over a dozen pointed ‘teeth’.
Instances are able to administer a sedative via a bite. While their prey is sedated, they remain attached and consume their host’s blood. If the host survives this encounter, its blood will be permanently composed of squid ink. This has no immediate adverse effects on the host, however, the host’s body will reject any attempts at blood transfusion.
SCP-X-1 is unique from the other instances in that it was likely once human. It is also the only known instance to be capable of create more of its kind through its venom. This has only happened once. It affected Dr. Green, who, since the bite, has transformed into an instance of SCP-X without fail from 6 pm to 6 am every evening of a full moon.¹

Incident 10-17-2009:
Dr. Mariah Green was feeding SCP-X when SCP-X-1 propelled itself out of the open top of the aquarium and attacked Dr. Green’s neck. Dr. Green fought SCP-X-1 in self defense, rolling on top of it and scratching it with her fingernails. SCP-X-1 was terminated in the incident, and it released its beak from Dr. Green’s neck upon death. Following the incident, Dr. Green notably retained her normal blood type. She was monitored in the following days.

On 11-02-2009 at 6:00 pm, Dr. Green transformed into an instance of SCP-X. A coworker was able to get her to water, preventing her from suffocation. The transformation reverted at 6:00 am the following morning.

On 12-02-2009 a second transformation occurred from 6:00 pm to 6:00 am.

On 12-31-2009 a third transformation occurred.

Following this, it became apparent that the transformations were being affected by the lunar cycle, particularly the full moon. This allowed SCP-X-A and her coworkers to anticipate transformations.

Addendum:
On 2-16-2010, SCP-X-A was able to induce a transformation on her own. While forced transformations still occur during full moons, she is able to transform outside of them.

Interviews

11-03-2009

- Access granted

Interview 11-03-2009
Interviewed: SCP-X-A
Interview took place following the initial transformation.

[Begin Log]

Interviewer: How are we feeling today, SCP-X-A?

SCP-X-A: What…? No, absolutely not. It’s Mariah. Even Ms. Green, if you want.

Interviewer: It’s for the record, sorry. Again, how are we feeling today?

SCP-X-A: Quite a lot worse now, since you just discredited my humanity like that. But I suppose the real answer you want is, yes, I feel better than last night.

Interviewer: Had quite the adventure?

SCP-X-A: Well, that’s an understatement.

Interviewer: Could you explain, in your own words, what happened?

SCP-X-A: Well, I was just talking to ████, getting ready to go home, when suddenly, bam! I’m on the floor and I can’t breath. I remember ████ carrying me to a bathroom sink and practically waterboarding me. I don’t know how he thought fast enough to do what he did. In his shoes, I would've freaked out and ran away. Especially since I’m not that fond of squids anymore.

Interviewer: What do you mean?

SCP-X-A: Well, if what happened to me happened to you, you’d probably develop a bit of a phobia of squids. I was really fighting for my life that day. I was so sure I was gonna die. I’m sorry I killed it. I know you guys don’t like to lose skips.

Interviewer: We understand you didn’t mean it. Back on track, could you describe more about last night? Was the transformation painful?

SCP-X-A: Nope, I didn’t feel anything. There was a second where I lost consciousness, but that was it. After the sink thing, I sat in that bucket you got for me. In the next couple hours I saw a whole lot of faces through the surface of the water, and I knew they were talking, but I had no idea what they were saying. I knew it was English, but I couldn’t understand it no matter how hard I tried.

Interviewer: So you were sapient, but not able to understand humans?

SCP-X-A: Yeah. Anyways, come the next morning, there’s a blink of consciousness again, and suddenly I’m back to normal, naked with a bucket stuck on my butt, but otherwise fine. So, if you’re hoping I have the answer as to why last night played out like it did, I’m gonna have to disappoint you.

Interviewer: No, what you’ve told us has already helped a lot.

SCP-X-A: I’m assuming I’m not allowed to go home today? Or…ever? Since… you called me an SCP?

Interviewer: You might be demoted from the title ‘SCP’ if nothing else anomalous happens to you.

SCP-X-A: [SCP-X-A sighs] I guess I’ll call my mom and tell her I can’t visit this weekend. [SCP-X-A holds up her hands defensively] Don’t worry, I’ll leave out the squid part!

[End Log]

Interview 02-16-2010
Interviewed: SCP-X-A
Interview took place after SCP-X-A discovered she could induce transformations on her own.

[Begin Log]

Interviewer: Well, you’ve done it. Do you know how it happened? How do you know you actually did it yourself?

SCP-X-A: I know for sure it was me. I could feel it coming in my gut. I don’t really know how to describe it. I willed it to happen, just to see if I could.

Interviewer: Are you sure you’re not able to do that during the forced transformations?

SCP-X-A: Nope, I wouldn’t be able to do it. Those transformations felt different. Anyways I think you’re gonna be more interested in what other info I just learned. The first time I did it on my own, I was right next to SCP-X’s tank. As soon as I transformed, I could hear voices, talking and whispering excitedly. I figured out pretty fast that I was hearing the squids talking to each other.

Interviewer: What did they say?

SCP-X-A: I didn’t catch much of it, since I freaked out and turned myself back into a human.

Interviewer: Hold on, just a moment. [The interviewer leaves the room to speak with his superiors]

[The interviewer returns ten minutes later]

Interviewer: We’re going to have you transform in proximity to SCP-X again.

SCP-X-A: [SCP-X-A sighs]

Interviewer: Try to contain your excitement.

[SCP-X-A enters SCP-X’s containment tank and transforms without incident. The instances of SCP-X swarm her, but do not attack her. After nearly half an hour, SCP-X-A reverts the transformation.]

SCP-X-A: Well, that was… something.

Interviewer: Elaborate? What did they say?

SCP-X-A: They kept telling me to ‘take my throne as the queen of the swarm’.

Interviewer: Do you know what they mean by that?

SCP-X-A: They were telling me about how their queen was growing old and was looking for an heir. I think they were talking about SCP-X-1. They said that ‘blood is spilt over the throne every generation’ and I asked why. They said ‘that’s the best way’.

Interviewer: Do you think that’s why SCP-X-1 attacked you?

SCP-X-A: Yeah, she chose me. They pass over the monarchy by having a fight to the death. Killing the former queen is like the rite of passage or something.

Interviewer: That must be why your squid form is closer in size to X-1. You’re bigger than the others because you’re a queen specimen.

SCP-X-A: I guess… but you know what other horrifying thing I learned? Dash-one was like me. She was human. She was in my same situation many years ago.

Interviewer: Why didn’t she ever use her transformation ability?

SCP-X-A: I wondered that too. You’d think she’d use that to try and escape. According to the squids, the longer you’re a queen, the harder it is to maintain your human form. And she didn’t want to leave on her own, not if she couldn’t save her ‘swarm’ also.

Interviewer: How.. touching.

SCP-X-A: I think that means my situation is going to get worse. I’m… I’m afraid that… I… I think you should go ahead with the plan to fake my death. I think… I think I’m going to be spending a lot more nights in the aquarium. I wonder if the last queen really just wanted to pass on her curse and die. I wonder if one day that’s how I’ll feel.

Interviewer: Mariah…

SCP-X-A: No. I'm SCP-X-A.

[End Log]

SCP Sandbox III

Sandbox III: Revenge of the Sandbox