- Ghost Site
- Prometheus
- We Watch Over
- Big thing that kills the world.
- Playing the game
- halloween
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Item #: SCP-5000
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: As a fully-functional Foundation Site, SCP-5000 is considered to be capable of self-containment. SCP-5000 has constantly manned roadblocks, watchtowers and surveillance cameras.
Dr. Richard Faust is to always stay within SCP-5000 and inform the Foundation if there is a major alteration in its functioning, and will only exit in the final stages to avoid extermination. Dr. Faust has been validated by Foundation psychiatrists as mentally stable and capable of remaining within SCP-5000.
Research into the conditions surrounding and affecting SCP-5000 is currently in progress. The anomaly can only be monitored once a week, for the duration of the cycle's reset. Dr. Faust is exploring possible methods of stopping SCP-5000
Description: SCP-5000 is a self-contained recurring temporal anomaly located in a three kilometre radius around the ruins of the former Site 86.
SCP-5000 manifests by creating exact physical copies of objects and entities which became deceased, were destroyed or were removed from the SCP-5000 area over the course of the 5000-86 incident, known as SCP-5000-1. The replications possess no memory of the 5000-86 event and will repeat approximately the same routine each cycle, with slight variations in activity due to external stimuli. SCP-5000 stays active for seven days before the 5000-86 event repeats and SCP-5000 resets immediately after.
SCP-5000-1 who exit the area will become gradually less corporeal and visible, before disappearing completely. SCP-5000-1 generally do not notice this change, and staff often exit to retrieve supplies, although they do not visibly obtain items, despite recalling acquiring them.
Site 86 was a newly instituted residential site designed to contain Safe to Euclid level temporally anomalous objects. It had a total staff count of 467, with 448 present at the time of the incident. Among the 19 survivors was Dr. Richard Faust, who had been absent from the area at the time of the event . Researcher Valeria Faust and Security Officer Kristian Faust, Richard's wife and son respectively, were both casualties of the event. Once informed of the existence and function of SCP-5000, Faust requested permission to remain at Site 86. This request was granted when Dr. Faust proved himself to be completely mentally stable; as well as being a reliable candidate for monitoring and studying SCP-5000, due to his previous specialisation in temporal misalignment.
5000-86 Event Summary:
The 5000-86 event commenced at 6:45 PM, 22/12/2019. A convoy of unknown masked soldiers in armoured trucks forcibly entered Site 86 through the western checkpoint.
Foundation security defended at the entrance to the complex, but were quickly defeated by the advanced anomalous weaponry deployed against them. The forces then entered the facility, prioritising the termination of Foundation staff and procedurally searching each room. They retrieved a total of 54 SCPs. Only 18 members of staff were able to leave the Facility.
The attackers deployed an unknown device which they remotely detonated after they exited the radius, destroying most of the facility and triggering a level five isolated temporal warp.
Foundations agents arrived at the remains of Site 86. While the cleanup was in progress, SCP-5000 manifested for the first time. Researchers and MTFs arrived for principal containment.
Addenda:
Extract from Richard Faust's personal diary log:
12/12/2019
Richard: God damn, the new site has finally been set up. We've been working our asses off for the longest time to set up those living quarters. Of course, I would be lying if I said that that was the only reason why I haven't recorded in this thing for so long. It's all hands on deck with this new management, so they had me and Valeria working to move all the furnishings into our new apartment. At least the place is big, and the couch is comfy for when Val gets into one of her moods, heh.[End log]
14/12/2019
Richard: Well, we've moved in properly. We just opened the last box and everything is working properly. This place is pretty great. They even have dedicated personnel to get food. We also have the Christmas ornaments from the old house, but we can't get a normal Christmas tree like we used to because it makes a mess. I'm on my way to pick up a plastic tree right now, actually. I'll probably pick up a few other things for Christmas too.[End log]
16/12/2019
Richard: Shit, Val is absolutely livid. Kristian didn't want to spend Christmas over here because he's going to be over at his girlfriend's place. I personally think that he has a right to do what he wants. Val has a tendency to overreact over these kinds of things anyway-Valeria: What are you talking about? Overreacting? I'm perfectly justified! He has no right to abandon us!
Richard: Calm down. He's not abandoning us, he lives a five minute walk away from us.
Valeria: And how many times have you seen him lately? Christmas is for family! He can't just leave us for whatever new woman he's picked up any day of the week!
Richard: Kristian is 27, for Christ's sake! It's not our responsibility to shackle him up.
Valeria: You're completely fucking blind, Richard.
Richard: Yeah? And you're delusional if you think that Kristian is still a kid who you can send around on a whim.
[Pause]
Richard: Val? Oh my God, I'm so sorry.
[End log]
20/12/2019
Richard: Valeria hasn't spoken to me the entire week, pretty much. The marriage hasn't been this bad in years. It might be stress from moving, but I don't think it's just that.[Pause]
Richard: Um, yeah. I absolutely can't function under these conditions. So I'm thinking…
What if I hire a prostitute?
Now, future Richard, hear me out. No one's has to know. I'll go to a different city, use a fake name, all of that stuff. I'm just proposing that we try it out and go from there. Nothing's even set in stone, just an idea.[End log]
22/12/2019
Richard: Well, that's something of a mission success, I suppose. I'm in Nevada now, heading back to the site. I told Val that I was going out to get some food, though I suppose taking eight hours to get it was a bit much. I guess I could pick up a few presents to-[A loud explosion can be heard]
Richard: What the fuck? Holy shit! Valeria! Kristian!
Hour Pause
Richard: What's happening here?
Security Officer: It's fine, sir, just a small mining operation, sorry for any inconvenience.
Richard: I'm Researcher Faust, I have level four access. Tell me what's happening. Now.
Security Officer: I'm sorry, sir. This site was attacked, there's been a large explosion in the site.
Richard: Oh God no. Researcher Valeria Faust and Security Officer Kristian Faust. Are they alright?
Security Officer: We don't know, sir. No one's come out yet, but rescue teams are en route.
Richard: I'm going in.
Security Officer: Sir I can't allow that-
[End log]
25/12/2019
Richard: Merry Christmas, future me. I suppose I should update you on what's happened, but how are you going to forget something like this? God I feel like shit. Granted I'd feel a whole lot worse without this liquid happiness here with m-[Phone rings]
[Phone conversation inaudible]
Richard: Are you serious? I'll come over now.
[End log]
01/01/2020
Richard: Well, this is my last time being in the real world, I suppose. And I won't be able to bring this recorder with me in case an - an SCP-5000-1, I think we're calling it? - finds it and has a mental breakdown. Anyways, the psychological examination was a bitch to get through and- actually, I'm not going to pretend that this is a reminder or anything like that, seeing as I'll never see this thing again.Think of this as more of a goodbye. I'm going to be heading off to watch my family be killed until my hairs turn gray, but you gotta take the bad with the good; cause on the flip side I get to spend more time with a family who was ripped away from me, and maybe get a chance to lay them to rest. And I know that I won't be able to stay in there forever. this is only a temporary arrangement, at least for them, but I'm going to try and do my best not to think about that.
[End log]
January eighteenth, 1892
Samuel Brooke applied a warm cloth to his wife’s forehead and checked the clock hanging from the wall; it was already 7 am. He shouldn’t have been awake for so long, but she just seemed to be unable to rest. She wasn’t quite sleeping. It was more of a trance as her brain lost the ability to stay active through all the torment its diseased body was going through.
When the cloth was put against her head, her breathing slowed and she seemed to react well, so he held it until she finally slept and then stepped back. He hurriedly washed the basin she had thrown up into repeatedly throughout the night and tossed the contents into the overgrown back garden. He was just on his way back when he heard the mail slat open, followed by a rustle of paper falling to the ground.
He frowned, cheated out of the sleep he desperately needed. At his desk in the corner of the small dining room, he opened the first envelope. The neat writing of the bank he had rented his house from was immediately recognisable; he skipped past all of the needless prattle about the company’s good intentions and got straight to the important part.
The seven month rental period for your house is almost over and you have failed to pay for a longer duration. The cost of rental must be paid in full within five months. If you are further unable to pay at or before the deadline you will be evicted.
Samuel looked around. The small abode was in obvious disrepair. The kitchen was home to a nest of mice, which still prospered despite his best efforts; the stinking bathroom was completely unusable; and the dining room had only held one person for the past year because his damned wife stayed in the bedroom and barely ever rose above complete catatonia.
His fist slammed the desk in frustration. It seemed outrageous to him that anyone should have to pay to live there when the rats in the roof lived more comfortably than they did. Samuel had gotten his first job at a government agency immediately out of college with a degree in theoretical physics. But he had gotten greedy, and his promising career was exchanged for being stranded with no job and a diseased wife.
Deciding that he had lost his lust for sleep, he decided to look through the others. A newsletter promoting some political candidate was discarded immediately, useful only as fuel for a fire. The next was equally dull, as was the next. The mundanity of the letters only hammered in the prospect of just how doomed he was.
“What are those letters?”
Samuel whipped around. His wife was standing in the hallway, leaned against a wall. Her hair was wispy and long, having lost its volume and colour long ago.
“It’s nothing, Penelope. Everything’s fine,”
She came and looked over his shoulder. “It’s not, is it? That’s a letter from the bank,”
“Yes,”
“How long do we have left?”
“Five months. But I’ll make it better, I promise. I can try and get a job in a mine, or on the railroads. Anything that works,”
She nodded, already tired from leaving her bed.
He stood and helped her from the room and back into bed. He held her close. “I will fix this,”
She looked up at him. “I know you will, Samuel,”
He left the room, went to his desk and continued to sort through the letters, the occasional involuntary tear trickling down his cheek and splashing onto the paper. When he got to the bottom of the stack, he noticed something he hadn't seen before. It was a sheaf of official-looking papers enclosed in a transparent folder.
Samuel pulled them out. Some of the papers were wrinkled, but they were still easily legible. It took a few seconds, but then he recognised the three familiar arrows within the bulging circle.
The Foundation, the agency dedicated to the study of impossible items. While working there, Samuel had attempted to steal a variety of those items with the intent to sell them. Of course, he had been caught almost immediately and and they had retrieved every single item and research paper. Although, with these documents in front of him, it seemed that their search had possibly not been as exhaustive as they had thought. As he read the notes, Samuel's eyes widened. He knew this was his only chance.
Samuel was in a manic rush, as usual. One of the notes he had read concerned a powerful anomaly, a being that resided in a small pocket world and had the boon of unlimited power, although this ability was made obsolete by the chains it was bound in. The part that had interested him the most, however, was that the notes contained the approximate dimensional location of the entity. And Samuel planned to take full advantage of this information.
He had spent the last four months in the dank, poorly lit basement dedicating himself to researching reality distortions, which were his specialised field, and how they could be applied to facilitate the traversing of dimensions. He then coupled that with what little he knew of reality-affecting symbols and emerged with a complex glyph that would transport him to the rough location of the being and back.
At that moment, he had completed tracing the sigil on the floor of the basement. Every line was done with perfect precision and width.
Upon completion, Samuel retrieved a squirming baby mouse from a nearby box. His stomach churned and, deciding to get it over with, he twisted the head and the body away from each other. There was a pop and the wriggles subsided. He dropped the carcass into the square in disgust.
Samuel closed his eyes in the basement and opened them to redness. There hadn’t even been a noticeable change, but now the heat was beginning to rise. The world had a surface of red and orange pebbles and the sky was endless scarlet stretching into the horizon.
There was only one direction to go. A mountain rose up in the distance, its cap extending through the clouds.
Samuel walked for hours. There was sweat running down his entire body, and his spectacles fogged and had to be re-wiped every few minutes. He stopped every so often to rest and eat his meagre supplies.
Then he saw it. There was a lump in the distance, so pale in comparison to the red earth and sky that it seemed alien even among the alien landscape.
Samuel reached the shape and was taken aback. It was twice the size of a man, yet its white skin was so heavily marked with bruises and wounds both recent and old that it seemed fragile. The creature, who must surely be the entity Samuel was looking for, raised its head, heaved itself off of the ground, and sat cross-legged. The chains that bound its body to the ground clanked and screeched off of each other.
Its eyes, brilliant orbs of deep purple with an amber iris, lazily drifted and landed on Samuel. At this moment, Samuel realised that he never actually considered what he would ask the god. Would he ask for money? Power?
In the end, he didn’t have to ask. The thing spoke to him in a velvet voice, one that seemed bizarre coming from its gargantuan form.
“You are a human,” it said, not quite asking a question, not quite making a statement. “I have not seen another living person for a long time. Who are you?”
Samuel calmed his nerves as best he could. “I am Doctor Samuel Brooke,” he said, stammering slightly, “I-I have worked so hard to come here."
“You have come to find Prometheus and you have succeeded. That is no small feat. I assume you have come seeking something?”
Samuel thought quickly and decided upon the thing that would give him the most immediate satisfaction: money.
“I have come seeking wealth. Enough that I may pay my debts and live comfortably for the rest of my life.”
“That can easily be arranged. But first, you must undo these chains and-”
“Wait, How did you get into those chains in the first place?”
Prometheus sighed and spoke: “I loved humanity. It was my wish that they could enjoy the power the Gods were endowed with from birth. One night, I stole into the Gods’ repository and took many things. I took the power to think and innovate, I took weapons that could end conflicts in seconds, I even took the nectar of the gods, which would make any mortal man into a being of equal power.” Prometheus shook his head solemnly.
“The Gods woke, and I was caught while fleeing their fortress. I was only able to throw three things down to mankind. Fire, inventiveness and thought.”
He then spoke of how he was chained to the ground and tormented each day by the Gods whose pets he had given free will. Samuel felt anger at this part, although a part of him whispered that this was the Titan’s anger and not his.
Prometheus preached for hours of technologies far beyond anything any mortal man could conceive. Crafts that could reach beyond the moon, power sources that would never wane and even ways to snap time itself into place. However, Samuel was utterly captivated and was only listening to the beautiful tones of the voice, not what they were saying. At that moment he would follow Prometheus to the end of the earth.
They had talked for a long while when a distant screech came from the mountain as the sun dipped behind it. Prometheus winced and a panicked look entered his face. He spoke a few words and extended his hand. Samuel reached to shake it and as he took it he suddenly realised he had no idea what he was agreeing to. He felt the world go cold and the Titan’s smile, once inviting and warm, now was a grinning mess of broken teeth and burst lips.
Prometheus opened his eyes. He saw darkness, then he saw light, then his eyes focused and showed him a dark room. He was sitting in what he instantly recognised as a primitive trans-dimensional gateway. Behind him there was a flight of narrow stairs leading up to a door, which opened to the rank smell of rotting meat. He wrinkled his nose and made his way out the front door.
He strode through the street, passing shops and houses and admiring the warm, yellow sun. One of the shop windows held the date, July fifteenth.
Prometheus grinned. He had big plans. But first, he needed a lab.
Far far away, deep deep down, in a red, burning world, Samuel Brooke screamed as eagles tore him to pieces.
First recorded sighting of SCP-5469. Photo features former President Abraham Lincoln’s wife with an unusually clear instance of SCP-5469 in the background, circa 18701
Item #: SCP-5469
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Foundation webcrawlers are patrolling image hosting and social media sites to locate and delete instances of SCP-5469.
In the event of an SCP-5469 instance becoming corporeal, all individuals who were present at the event are to be administered Class-B amnestics and any items left behind by SCP-5469 are to be retrieved.
Description: SCP-5469 are humanoid entities which can usually2 only be viewed in photographs. SCP-5469 are always captured in photographs of events that bear great emotional significance, including weddings, funerals, graduations, birthdays and baby showers. Instances of SCP-5469 appear next to or in between people in the photograph, and often appear to be attempting to hug or touch them.
SCP-5469 instances range in transparency, colour and form. The most vivid have discernable facial features, though most are vague dark blurs. They are usually disregarded as dirt smudges or abnormal lens flares by the photographer.
There have been reports of possible SCP-5469 instances becoming temporarily visible to the naked eye, primarily during funerals or shortly after death. The instances will vanish shortly after.
Addendum: An SCP-5469 instance materialised inside of a chapel on 12/01/21 during the funeral of Wilbur Brooke. The attendees fled and the instance dematerialised prior to the arrival of law enforcement.
Foundation Agents recovered the following text written on the back of the funeral program of Wilbur’s son, Jack Brooke. The handwriting was near illegible and the paper showed signs of discolouration.
I remember when I saw you just after you were born. Your cute little hands squeezed my fingers and I knew I wouldn't ever leave you.
When you were three, we started putting aside money for your university. Even then I had the feeling that you were a smart cookie.
You were ten when I got the diagnosis. I knew I would have to pull through for you and Melinda.
My heart stopped beating the same day that you got accepted into your dream university. My biggest regret is not living long enough to hug you and tell you how proud I was. How proud I still am.
Now here you are, a proper man, ready to face the world.
You're going to do big things, Jackie.
And I'll be here to watch them.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: Dr. Brooke and her team are to constantly monitor SCP-xxxx for a change of activity.
It is estimated that the Foundation will be able to maintain SCP-xxxx's secrecy for around 200 more days; after that point, it is predicted that all governments will begin construction of bunkers and China will be evacuated. The Foundation will not assist these efforts.
The O5 council has authorised the creation of a survival bunker in order to ensure the continued survival of the humanity and the SCP Foundation. The odds of humanity's survival are currently estimated to be 50%.
Description: SCP-xxxx is a large celestial object composed primarily of rock measuring at roughly 19 kilometres in diameter.
SCP-xxxx seems to be in a state of extreme stasis, thus ceasing all movement in correspondence to the universe. SCP-xxxx is unable to be affected by or affect gravity as well as being unable to be moved, damaged or altered in any way. SCP-xxxx is unable to contain or transmit any kind of energy, meaning neutrinos cannot pass through it.
SCP-xxxx was discovered on 4/11/18 by Foundation long-distance telescopes which were being used for monitoring of extra-terrestrial objects.
Earth is currently approaching SCP-xxxx at a rate of 2100000 kilometres per day and will intercept on 14/3/23. The event will result in severe damage to Earth; complete destruction of China and rupturing of the Earth's mantle, resulting in new volcano formations, extreme tectonic activity and incineration of most of Earth's surface. The sea level will drop significantly and the entire atmosphere will be filled with debris. For the most part, Earth will remain intact due to SCP-xxxx's lack of a gravitational pull.
Addendum xxxx:
Announcement, two months after discovery of SCP-xxxx.
Main speaker: Dr. Brooke.
Location: Site-32Dr. Brooke: Now, I am sure that all of you have heard about SCP-xxxx by now. For those of you that haven't, SCP-xxxx is a large extra-terrestrial object that is going to inevitably impact with Earth about four and a half years from now. This announcement is to clear up any questions you have.
Dr. Brooke: The good news is that although the SCP is bigger than the one that killed the
dinosaurs, it won't do as much damage, because it is indestructible it will go right through the earth cleanl [INTERRUPTION] Why yes it is indestructible Robert, are you going to do something about it? As I as saying, it will go right through us and it has no gravitational pull so it won't take us with it. The bad news is that because we are hitting it and it's not hitting us, we will have a big streak in our planet which will wipe most of China off the map and possibly rupture the Earth's mantle.
We deal with inevitability a lot in this job; we have things that can kill the world with the blink of an eye and the only thing keeping them from doing so is because we keep feeding them babies.
I'm not going to lie to you and say that we can stop this thing by putting it in a cage or shooting it, it's going to hit us and the best we can do is prepare.
So here's the deal, the O5 Council has authorised the creation of a big bunker complete with SCP storage that will keep us nice and cosy while the rest of the world burns. We will have to preserve just about every living species and SCP in that one place before we lock the doors, so we have a lot of work ahead of us.Researcher ████: What about SCP-2000?
Dr. Brooke: We can't repopulate the Earth if there is no Earth can we? We will have to wait a minimum of ten years until the world cools down and then get back there, if it's still intact and Yellowstone hasn't exploded from the pressure release. Now if you want my advice, grab a beer and drink 'till you forget about everyone you love who is outside those doors.
End Announcement Log
The red-haired woman slowly left the office building with her hands placed deliberately behind her head. She was followed closely by a tall man with a weak chin and a short old man with a bushy beard.
There were too many police cars to count. Their flashing lights painted her face blue and red, and the sirens all but drowned out the crowds of people screeching profanities and death threats at her and her fellow members of the O5 Council. Riot guards wearing shiny black body armour just barely held back the raging tide of people.
The police gripped the three tightly by their shoulders, handcuffed them, and threw them each into a separate car. The woman’s forehead bounced off of the car’s roof as she entered, leaving vivid red blood streaming down her face, the display of violence threw the mob into a frenzy, they pushed even harder against the metal shields, hoping to get their hands on her. Her seatbelt clicked in and her door was slammed shut not a moment too soon, as the first riot guard's knees began to buckle.
Crowds thronged around the cars as they drove to the courthouse, the woman was in the centre of the convoy, but even through the perimeter of police cars she could see the seething masses of people. A flaming bottle cracked against the roof of the car, spreading burning liquid over the entire hood. The driver swore and increased his speed while rocks began to pelt the car from every angle. Upon their arrival, the woman was shoved hurriedly out of the car, through the wrought-iron gates of the justice hall and ushered safely away out of view of the public.
The night in a cold dark cell passed without incident. The guards hadn't bothered to bring her food or even a mattress, for that matter, but, that didn’t stop her from enjoying a good rest on the cold concrete floor.
The lawyer next to her sweated anxiously, he had been paid to keep her out of jail at any cost, an impossible task. Of course, she had never expected him to succeed, the jury was leering at her like a pack of vultures and the prosecutor looked like he was already counting his money. The audience behind her, filled with reporters and civilians, jeered loudly. Her guilt was clearly a foregone conclusion in their minds.
The persecutor played with the defence like a cat with a mouse, His arguments countered clumsily by the defence. Eventually, the persecutor decided to finish things and brought up Korea. The defence didn’t reply to that, even the best lawyer couldn’t disprove a colossal crater.
The jury reached a guilty verdict without delay, and the judge eagerly sentenced the red-haired woman to death; the crowd cheered and even the judge openly showed her satisfaction. As the guards dragged her out of the courtroom, the woman begged and screamed, but only just managed to twist her thin smile into a grimace.
With a few strings pulled behind the scenes, the paperwork went through faster than usual. What normally took years of suffering on death row only lasted her a mere week, showing just how eager everyone was to kill her.
The woman lay in the same dingy cell, staring at the ceiling, the boredom was getting to her, but she'd be out of there soon enough anyway. A guard came past, strolling cockily up to the bars, and asked for her last meal. She ordered a salad. She was on a diet, after all.
Once she had taken her leisurely time to finish eating, she was led to a smooth concrete room. A throne with a scorched iron crown sat in the middle of the room, facing a window. Behind the window were select members of the press and citizens, all there to witness her final moments.
She slid into the chair calmly and let the executioner do up the buckles.
“Last words?”
The red-haired woman smiled. “Hardly.”
She barely felt the weak jolt of electricity passing through her body, but she jerked in her seat and went limp anyway, this was the most vital part, any signs of life from her and the game would be up. Once the witnesses had left, their faces tight in grim satisfaction, her buckles were undone and she stood up and left without a word.
A brown-haired woman stood on the side of the street, rain beat down on her but didn't manage to wet her unnaturally glossy hair. She stood there impassively until a white van with tinted windows pulled up beside her. She clambered into the passenger seat, next to a tall man with a strong chin and in front of an old man with a bristly moustache.
Crowds of people watched her as she made her way up to the platform. There were journalists, police and citizens alike, earlier they were so savage, but now their eyes were full of hope.
The brown-haired woman reached the microphone and cleared her throat. “Ladies and Gentlemen. My name is Hannah Clarke. I am the new Oh-Five-One, primary head of the SCP Foundation, replacing the recently deceased Danielle Carter. We will be working closely with the world governments to ensure the safety of all people from anomalous threats, and prevent what happened in Korea from ever happening again.”
The crowd applauded, and the brown-haired woman smiled. They wanted hope, and she'd give them just that.
They sat in the back of a black van, watching costumed individuals being waved into the facility by guards, and planned a murder.
"Who the hell over the age of ten even celebrates Halloween anymore?" This remark came from Sam Merwin, a skilled gunslinger with a Texan drawl. Brooke would never have chosen him herself, but rules were rules.
"Everyone does, you moron." This was Brooke herself. She was the organisation of this operation. Her British accent was still strong after her many years working as a Project Manager at The Foundation's Texan branch.
"What's wrong, beautiful? Bee in your bonnet?"
"Shut up, Sam." Snapped Bella Horowitz, the infiltration and reconnaissance expert, and their ticket inside the compound.
This was her team. An uncoordinated, rushed group assembled from the few resources that O5-4 could pool on such short notice.
"Bella, What have you got?" Brooke asked.
"I have two Level Four clearance cards, a Chaos Insurgency knife and…" Bella held up a skin-tight skeleton costume, "This."
"Um," said Sam, "Why the skeleton costume?"
Brooke and Bella stared incredulously at Sam.
"Did you read the file I sent you?" Brooke asked, exasperated.
"File?"
"Jesus Christ, Sam."
"Can't I just read it now?"
"That file is two hundred pages long, monospaced, font eleven."
Sam paled visibly. "Can't you just summarise it to me now?"
Brooke sighed. "Fine. We're here to assassinate O5-5 by order of O5-4 so that O5-4 can discreetly take over with minimum violence. This team was rushed together when we got word of this Halloween party because this could be our only chance. The party will be going from Halloween to All Saint's Day morning. You got all that?"
"I'm not stupid."
"Yes you are. You and Bella are going into the compound while I stay here in the van and tell you what to do. The Chaos Insurgency knife will let us pin the killing on them and the suit is to help us blend in with the other costumed people."
Sam peered around. "So Bella is going in with the skelly suit here and I'm here for backup?"
"Actually, you are wearing the suit and Bella is going with you. I'm here to keep track of things and make sure you don't mess up the plan."
"I'm not wearing it. It goes against everything I stand for." Sam whined petulantly.
"You kill people for a living, Sam. You don't stand for much." Bella retorted. She folded her arms and leaned against the van wall.
Sam let that slide. "Why doesn't Bella have one?"
"I'm not a murderer, also, people actually like me."
Sam gasped in mock horror. "You will regret that, young lady!"
Bella turned to Brooke. "Hard to find good help these days."
"Don't worry, she's talking about me." Whispered Sam, unhelpfully.
After Sam had struggled into his full-body costume and Bella had put on a crappy witches hat and makeup, the two jumped out of the black van and headed to the Site-69 Security Check-point. Bella had the Chaos insurgency knife tucked up her sleeve and Sam had a ready-loaded revolver with an unnecessary number of bullets.
They swiped their Level Four cards that Bella had prepared earlier that day and the metal detector conveniently failed to register their illegal items. The guards, who were wearing little skull hats, waved them through to the main hall. The main hall had been decorated with jack-o-lanterns that sat upon tables, emitting a cozy orange light. The tables themselves were piled high with food and drink. Costumed people chatted in groups and a few armed guards stood in the corners.
Brooke directed them to the nearest passage and they made their respective ways there. Bella mingled in the crowd, expertly dispelling suspicions and elegantly dodging passersby; Sam stumbled around like an idiot in a sweaty skin-tight skeleton costume.
"You're embarrassing yourself, Sam." Brooke's voice came through his earpiece.
"This suit is hot as hell," Said Sam as he fell onto a table. "And I mean that in both ways."
"Har Har." Brooke snapped off the comm.
Sam and Bella slid through the door, making sure none of the guards saw them, and shut it behind them. The din of voices quietened instantly.
Brooke came back on. "The target will be in his office eight floors down. Catch the elevator at the end of the corridor and I'll direct you there."
Sam slammed the button and the elevator went down and dinged as it opened. The two made their way down the corridor, following Brooke's directions and stopping only to dump the body in a broom closet. They stopped in front of a large, imposing door.
"Alright," Said Brooke. "O5-5 should be in there with his bodyguard. I'll leave you to it." She clicked off.
Bella made an 'after you' gesture and Sam knocked. The door swung open and a burly man carrying an assault rifle, presumably O5-5's bodyguard, looked out.
"I have a trick for you." shot the man three times in the face. His gun was reloaded before the body hit the ground.
Ahead of him, a scrawny, Hobbit-like human specimen was trying in vain to lift a metal hatch that used to be hidden beneath a tasteless rug. The man turned, saw the body of his guard, squealed and finally succeeded in pulling open the hatch. But by this time, Sam had already strode over and seized the man by the scruff of the neck and was just waiting for him to notice.
The man turned, swung a punch that collided with nothing and performed an acrobatic manoeuvre that Sam had never seen before, which efficiently broke his own nose. O5-5 stood back up, wiped blood away from his nose and head-butted Sam's fist before falling to the floor again.
"This guy," Sam said. "Is O5-5?"
"Yup." Said Bella.
"He looks like a bloody gremlin!" He exclaimed. "I thought the world was in good hands!"
"It will be, once we get rid of him," Said Bella, while plunging the knife into O5-5's back. "There, done."
A low growl came from behind them and they turned slowly.
"Sam?"
"Yes Bella?"
"Did you use the silver bullets?"
"What bullets?"
"This is why you always read the goddamn file!"
And the werewolf, formerly the late O5-5's bodyguard, charged.
Sam didn't hesitate, he grabbed O5-5's corpse and slung it directly into the beast's snapping jaws; and vaulted the table, emptying his gun into the creature as he did so. He rushed down the corridor, with Bella close behind. He reached the elevator and began frantically pressing the close button. Those shining claws would be tearing into him soon enough unless he did something to distract it. Sam gripped the bars on the inside of the elevator, hoisted himself up, swung to build momentum and, at the right moment, slammed his heels directly into Bella's solar plexus. She doubled over as the air swept out of her and she slid between the beast's legs; it turned and tore her apart while Sam rode up in the elevator.
He prepared himself to make a run through the crowd when he heard an odd scrabbling sound. The creature, it was climbing up the shaft to get to him. He was two floors away when the metal below him began rending and opal black claws showed through.
The door opened and Sam sprinted to the main hall. He slammed the door open with his shoulder and barged his way through the crowd and at the exit, he pulled out his gun and fired it in the air, herding the party-goers towards the beast. He shot down the guards and ran out the front gate.
There it was. The van. He tried the door. Locked. He moved to the driver's seat and pounded on the tinted windows. His comm was one-way so he had no way of calling Brooke.
He realised what she had done. She and O5-4 had planned for this to happen, they had planned ahead and done something to the bodyguard, something that'd turned him from a normal guy to an unstoppable monster. There was no doubt in Sam's mind that his and Bella's documents would have been changed to suggest affiliations with the Insurgency.
The van's engine started and he was quickly left behind.
At the mercy of the Beast.
Item #: SCP-3824
Object Class: Keter, a market leader in quality plastic home and outdoor storage solutions.
Special Containment Procedures:
Servers are already reinforced against invasions of SCP-3824, however, it may still be introduced through A: Browsing through sites outside of the Foundation Server. B: Opening emails from unknown senders. C: Attempting to access sites with a surplus of pop-up ads or downloading software illicitly.
All staff are obligated to use Ad-block, VPNs and military-grade firewalls in order to preserve file organisation, Foundation security and low employee stress levels.
Update:
Staff are not to click on any ads created by SCP-3824 under any circumstances in order to reduce the odds of an information breach. Penalties will be decided depending on the negativity of the outcome. Once again: do not click on these ads if you see them.
-Dr. Brooke
Description:
SCP-3824 is an undetectable anomalous force that covers the entire planet and constantly tracks the actions of all members of the Anomalous Community (All those who are aware of the existence of anomalies) as a real-life counterpart to digital 'Cookies', which follow user's activity on the internet and employ the gathered information in order to supply suiting advertisements to users as well as informing the Foundation and other government agencies of any and all suspicious activities. Ads supplied by SCP-3824 are usually similar those found on fraudulent websites, featuring click-bait titles, eye-catching colours and will usually lead to a scam or a virus when clicked on.
The anomalous properties manifest when anyone being actively tracked by SCP-3824 accesses the internet, the user will be bombarded supplied with fitting advertisements provided by anomalous retail companies such as Marshall, Carter and Dark.
SCP-3824 was originally a project proposed and developed by the Foundation's Accountancy Division in order to increase funds. In the aftermath of this event, the total money owned by the Foundation went from 4.3 trillion to 1.2 quadrillion. Upon learning of this development, MCD managed to penetrate Foundation server defences and steal SCP-3824 for their own uses.
Archived messages regarding SCP-3824:
Message from Robert Chandre to Site 69 Overseer:
This appears after clicking: Want to be as thin as her? extreme violence and Herman Fuller's circus ads. (It doesn't really steal your credit card data, don't worry.)
Enter these details so that you can retrieve your Purchase
A popup that will display the MCD shopping site when the page opens.
The MCD shopping page: Work In Progress.
The skin lotion ad goes to the original SCP page:
SCP-3276
the message from O5 ad takes you to this survey:






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