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Tags: broken-god sarkic tale
Title: NY Noire
Credits:
Idea by sepiafishie
Tale by ThePaperMask

Detective Kaarn's office, 2:04 AM, 18.08.1932

It was a dark, cold and bitter night in New York. Detective Kaarn looked out of the window, on which the cold rain of the night pattered. His office was dimely lit. He smoked his pipe and felt the smoke going through his augmented, metal throat into his lungs. In the corner of his room, a vinyl record of the smoothest Jazz was playing. Kaarn blowed out the smoke in his mouth.

He went back to sit at his table to inspect the files of his current case. It was all so clear. It were the Hunters of the Black Lodge. It had to be. Human Trafficking, Slavery, witnesses described them as "fleshy mobsters". Obviously.

Kaarn had to think about this. His first thought was to kidnap low-rank members that they would not care about. And that was exactly what he did.

He stood up and went to his rotary dial telephone. He opened his notebook, filled with notes to the current case. He called a number, that was found below a text saying 'Call me if needed. Trust me, I'm a friend' in his notebook.

"I see you've called." the voice answered from the phone.

"I just picked up. How do you know who I am?"

With a metallic voice, the caller coughed.

"You-…"

"Yes."

Kaarn quickly grabbed his notebook and wrote 'mekhanite!!' next to the number.

"So, you-…" Kaarn was interrupted abruptly.

"I've been following this case for the past three months. I have recently heard of another Mekhanite in town, I left you the note."

Kaarn realized why and how the note has been there.

Alley of 67th Rd, 11:23 PM, 17.08.1932

Kaarn was on the crime scene, hiding his metallic parts with his leather coat. The officers had not yet arrived, thus leaving the body dead in the rain. Subject of human trafficking. Kaarn already had a slight idea of who it the culprit might be, although he was unsure.

It was when he got closer to the body that he found something unusal. A single cog lying on the ground. On the cog, a sticky note found itself saying 'Call me. I'm a friend' below a phone number. The sticky note was already too wet to be sticked into Kaarn's notebook, so instead, Kaarn tried to redraw every detail on the note into his notebook.

Detective Kaarn's office, 2:11 AM, 18.08.1932

"So, you too want to take down the Hunter's Black Lodge."

"Indeed. I left the note for you there because I knew you would come. I knew that you would — you would be there, you know? I've followed your work for a long time now and must say it is quite intruiging."

Detective Kaarn had to smile. "I'm charmed, really."

A silence unfolded itself into the discussion. After three several seconds, the caller interrupted the silence.

"Anyway, the name's Smith. We should probably meet sometime. How about later today? Do you… require sleep?"

"Minimal to none, no."

"Alright then, Metropolitan Ave, Jospehi's Café, today at 9 in the evening."

"Deal."

Josephi's Café, 9:02 PM, 18.08.1932

The rain pressed itself against the café windows once again.

Kaarn was too busy watching the rain outside, when he heard somebody sitting next to him. When he went to see who it was, he saw a figure hooded in a leather coat, just like Kaarn.

"Name, Religion." Kaarn whispered to his neighbour.

"John Smythe, member of the Broken Church. And " he got closer to Kaarn. " you?"

"Markus Kaarn, member of the Broken Church. Happy now?"

Smythe sighs and thinks about it, before abruptly telling Kaarn to "prove it."

Kaarn realized what Smythe wanted and lowered his coat, to show Smythe his augmented body.

"I am one with the broken one."

Smythe pulled back his forearms to reveal metally augmented forearms.

Kaarn chuckeled.

"forearms, huh?"

"Easy to hide in a public, full with those who are unworthy." were the words that Smythe said before quickly hiding his forearms.

Both were about to strike in a conversation, when a loud scream could be heard outside of the café. While Smythe still had to realize what was going on, Kaarn had already jumped up instantaneously. Smythe quickly followed him, yet it was hard, since Kaarn new exactly where the scream came from, while Smythe did not.

"How do you know where the scream came from?", Smythe yelled at Kaarn, who was running in the rainy, busy streets of New York.

"Cochlea augmentations!" Kaarn yelled back, which Smythe had trouble with hearing due to the busy traffic.

Kaarn arrived at the scene, which consisted of a dead body lying on the pavement. She was female, half naked, the only things covering her private parts being tattered rags. Three bullet wounds could be found in the victims stomach.

Kaarn investigated the body, with Smythe barely being able to catch up on him. While Kaarn was deeply studying the bullet wounds, he rapidly teared himself to stand up and began running into a dark alley. In the back of the alley, a silhouette of a person was seen running further. They climbed up a ladder of a building, making a run for the rooftop.

Kaarn quickly followed, climbing up the ladder. Smythe, on the other hand, decided to stay down there as his legs were not as fit as Kaarns.

Kaarn's coat was now overspread with rainy water. He has reached the roof. The figure stood at the end of the seven stories high rooftop, looking down onto the streets. When Kaarn came closer he could see, that the figure himself was not human. Of course. A hunter of the black lodge.

The sarkic turned around, revealing a head that not even a mother could love. Fleshy substance bewildered the entire upper part of his body. Kaarn had to keep himself from falling into anger.

"Did she have a name?"

"We don't give them names. If their new owners want to give them names, that's up to them."

"What are you doing outside of the soviet union?"

"That's none of your business."

Kaarn raised his Astra 400 handfire gun in the direction of the sarkic.

"You know when to talk."

"Exactly."

The sarkic ran straight at Kaarn, who quickly shot a bullet into the sarkic's shoulder, which he did not seem to care about. Kaarn was shocked, smashed onto the wet floor of the rooftops. The water of the rain fell right into his eyes, when he felt the sarkic's foot kicking his stomach again and again.

Kaarn looked to the side. His Astra 400 lying just in arm's reach. He grabbed it without the sarkic realizing and shot the sarkic's right foot.

The sarkic let out an outcry, stepping back from Kaarn, who quickly stood up, who started to hyperventilate.

Nontheless, Kaarn ran straight at the sarkic and punched him in the stomach, which lead to the sarkic coughing out. Kaarn quickly landed another punch on the face of sarkic, which again caused him to go back a bit.

The sarkic fell on the floor, hyperventilating.

"You're done, flesh-scum."

The sarkic tried his best to get up, but Kaarn shot him in his leg once again. The sarkic let out another outcry.

"Why are you here?"

"Soon, Ion will rule this world, converting it into a parad-"

A gunshot.

Blood streamed out of the fleshy head of the sarkite.

Metropolitan Ave, 9:15 PM, 18.08.1932

"What exactly did you see?" the officer asked Smythe.

"I was sitting in a café with a friend when we heard a scream."

"And you decided to investigate on your… own?"

"Well, yes. We tried to —"

Smythe was interrupted by Kaarn turning around the corner. Before the officer could turn around and see what Smythe was looking at, Kaarn was already running back, as he has killed someone valuable to the police.

The police officer looked back at Smythe.

"What are you looking at?"

"I — I gotta go."

Detective Kaarn's office, 10:19 AM, 18.08.1932

"So, what do we know?", said Smythe, looking around Kaarn's office.

"It's the Hunters of the Black Lodge. Outside of russia, which must have a specific reason, however —" Karn stopped talking.

"What is it?"

Kaarn rushed into another room, filled with filing cabinets,, which are again filled with files. He rushed into the back of said room, opened a cabinet, searched through the files and then pulled one out.

"Marshall, Carter & Dark ltd."

Smythe became confused.

"You — You know they sell anomalous objects, not slaves, yes?"

A lamp, in which an instance of SCP-3220 has manifested itself. Currently stored in Site-122.

Item #: SCP-3220

Object Class: Keter

Secure Containment Procedures: MTF-μ-13 ("Ghostbusters") are to search for evidence within all forms of media that suggest the existence of an instance of SCP-3220. MTF-μ-13 are to pursue said information and relocate any confirmed instances of SCP-3220 to Site-122 Site-98. Under no circumstances are objects that include confirmed SCP-3220 instances to be destroyed or damaged. However, should this happen, all objects near to the destroyed/damaged are to be checked for the instance of SCP-3220. Should any information concerning SCP-3220 be known to the public, μ-13 is to destroy/delete said information and treat all individuals with knowledge of SCP-3220 with suitable amnestics.

Previously found objects containing instances of SCP-3220 are to be brought into Storage-3220, which can be found 1 2 3 kilometers underneath sea level, underneath Site-122 Site-98. All Foundation personnel of class C or higher are to drink a highly caffeinated drink before entering a two-kilometer-radius of Storage-3220. Personnel are prohibited from staying inside of this radius for longer than four hours.

Description: SCP-3220 denotes a group of anomalies which can manifest themselves inside non-sentient objects. While these anomalies cannot be visually detected, objects affected by SCP-3220 emit a constant noise at 5dB with a frequency of 1600 Hz. Research into the production and effects of this noise is ongoing. It is unknown how many SCP-3220 instances currently exist - approximately twenty new instances of SCP-3220 are found monthly. Thus far, all instances of SCP-3220 have been found in the New York Metropolitan Tri-State-Area, mainly inside of New York and New Jersey.

As soon as any object affected by an instance of SCP-3220 becomes in any way damaged or destroyed, said instance will vacate the object, moving to the closest other object. This process is instantaneous. Testing has shown that multiple instances cannot reside within the same object. Instances of SCP-3220 are categorized into two different subgroups: SCP-3220-01 and SCP-3220-02.

The primary anomalous effect of SCP-3220 is that individuals entering REM sleep inside of a radius of one kilometer of any SCP-3220-instance will experience a specific dream, with the respective dream depending on which subgroup the instance belongs to. In case of several individuals being influenced by the same instance, those individuals are then able to interact with each other in the dream. In 22% of cases, these dreams are followed by total organ failure, leading to disability or death. While the cause of this is not confirmed, research indicates this may follow the death of the individual within the dream.

Storage-3220, found inside of Site-98.

If a person falls asleep within a one kilometer radius of an instance of SCP-3220-01, they dream about being inside of a padded cell with an open door. Due to the secondary anomalous effect of SCP-3220-01, it is currently unknown what is located beyond the exit of the padded cell. In a believed secondary anomalous effect, the majority of individuals who experience this dream awake with a severe psychosis, speaking incoherently. An interview with a D-Class affected this way can be found in Addendum 1.

If a person falls asleep within a one kilometer radius of an instance of SCP-3220-02, they dream of finding themselves inside of please help a complex building, consisting of several corridors, most of which have a room between them. Each corridor is approximately 2m high, 2m wide and 5m long, and starts and ends in a junction. Corridor walls are universally reported to be the least favourite colour of the dreamer.

The most commonly found rooms inside of the complex are listed below:

Room Type	Furniture	Anomalous Property (if applicable)
Luxury hotel room	Luxury furniture can be found throughout the room. A basket full of fruits can also be found on the desk.	If a fruit from the basket is consumed, the subject awakens with clinical depression.
Butchery	A saw can be found in the middle of the room, with several dead, skinned animals hanging from the ceiling. The room is cold, commonly reported to be below freezing temperature. A humanoid entity can also be found inside of the butchery performing a number of activities, most commonly cutting up meat or sharpening his cleaver.	As soon as the butcher spots a dreamer, they will attempt to follow the individual. Surviving individuals report a certainty that the butcher's intent was to kill them. The butcher cannot currently leave the room.
Rustic bedroom	The walls and the furniture all consist of wood. A wooden bed can be found in the corner of the room. A window can be found above the bed. Through the window, `my old parents` a farm can be seen. All attempts to open said window have failed
Storage room	Room contains a compact trash bin below a shelf filled with kitchen utensils and ingredients.	All items put into the trash bin immediately decompose.
`Please, send help.` Torture chamber	Room is large, with walls covered in blood and an operating chair in the middle. Next to this chair is a table covered in torture utensils¹.	`I have been inside of here for way too long.`
Bathroom	A regular bathroom, with a shower, a toilet, a heater and a window, through which a farm can be seen².	As soon as a person sits down on the toilet, all of their organs get filled with liquid, drowning them.

Site-122 on Mount Saint Ellis, destroyed by SCP-3220.

Addendum 1:

[[collapsible show="+ Interview 3220-1" hide="- Interview 3220-1"]]

Junior Researcher Andersson: Tell me, what have you found behind that door?

D-4415-2: Father. Mother. Father. Mother. Father. Mother.

Junior Rresearcher Andersson: A-Alright… what exactly do you mean by mother and father?

D-4415-2: The pain of the mother is the joy of the son.

Junior Researcher Andersson: Explain, please.

Can you hear me?

D-4415-2: The pain of the mother is the delight of the son.

Junior Researcher Andersson: Alright, I believe this Interview to be pointless. It is now terminated.

D-4415-2: Please, I just want some help.

Junior Researcher Andersson: W-What?

D-4415-2 looks at himself.

D-4415-2: I-I'm — free? .

Junior Researcher Andersson: I — could you explain, please?

D-4415-2: I have been trapped inside of the dreams for such an acheing long time.

Andersson begins to vibrate heavily.

D-4415-2: Oh…

Junior Researcher Andersson: What is happening to me?

D-4415-2: …

Junior Researcher Andersson and D-4415-2: Mother. Father. Mother. Father. Mother. Father.

… I will never be free.

Addendum 2: On the 18th of November, 2006 there was a containment breach in Site-122. All personnel awoke at 3 AM with rabies. They have all taken weapons out of the armory and have attempted to destroy the site. This incident has been dubbed sendhelp Incident 3220-01.

Gamers Against Discord, #general-shit, 19:25

jockjamsvol6: I might've found something concering
polaricecraps: we kno that ur dick is small, no need to tell us :v
talman_corvett: srsly tho, what is it?
jockjamsvol6: While surfing around le deep web I came across a forum that calls itself the "Forum of Maxwellism". Seemed to be some fetish forum for machines, but then I found something concering.
talman_corvett: go on
jockjamsvol6: A thread called "About the Gamers", and the OP starts with saying "About 'Gamers against Weed, […]"
polaricecraps: what does it say
jockjamsvol6: It says how "they" shall deal with us.
talman_corvett: Jesus just copy the thing into here
jockjamsvol6: "About 'Gamers against Weed', the group that manifests themselves in internet phenomenon.

As I have seen multiple disputes here, discussing how we should deal with GAW¹, I wanted to give my own opinion. I believe that we should stay away from them. Yes, they use the creations of his fragmented greatness, WAN, to do questionable things. Yes, that is against our guidelines. But they do not know about the WAN, about his greatness. They do not know implants.
^{1 Abbreviation for Gamers Against Weed}"
talman_corvett: oh
polaricecraps: they got discord?
hisnamejeff?: polar I dare you
polaricecraps: oh, hi jeff
jockjamsvol6: No, I was not able to find anything Discord-related, although I could ask
jockjamsvol6: nvm i need to input my fucking login implant chip (what even) to register in the forums
polaricecraps: I wonder if they have dick implants
jockjamsvol6: I swear to fucking god
hisnamejeff?: Alright, I can see. Were you able to find anything more about their mythology?
jockjamsvol6: Uh, hol up. They have several of their… bible versions on a section of the forum. Hol up a minute
polaricecraps: Get ready for some spicy shit bois
jockjamsvol6:

tttp_chapter1.py

tttp_chapter1.py

The Tale of Ten Prophepts
Chapter 1: MAXWELL
print("1. When the first civilizations started to grow, and the first humans started acting like how YALDABAOTH did not intend them to act, the great argument occured.")
print("2. And when WAN fragmented himself in order for YALDABAOTH to not cause anymore damage to his creations.")
print("3. From the cages of his own body, WAN was able to communicate with persons he has chosen as his worthy.")
print("4. And after people started hearing about word of WAN, they started becoming worthy of him, they started using implants.")
print("5. The first prophet of WAN was the one having founded the church: Dr. MAXWELL. ")
print("6. His Job with the Jailors had just ended and he was lost.")
print("7.'My son.', his fragmented vastness said to MAXWELL. 'I have been mistakenly called many names before, although nobody has managed to fully write down the true, full story. You know it.")
print("8. MAXWELL, emotionally broken, heard out those cries of WAN. 'I do not know how.', he respondend.")
print("9. And WAN responded, saying 'The Church of Maxwellism shall be born from the ashes of your old life. Your old principles shall be scrapped. Adapt those of me, and you will be rewarded.")
print("10. And so MAXWELL abandoned his old values and standarts and adapted those of the great fragmented WAN, and soon created the Church of Maxwellism.")

polaricecraps: oh thats funky thats funky
hisnamejeff?: shouldnt a first chapter of the holy writ describe the creation of the world?
jockjamsvol6: Yeah, but they have multiple writs. I think this one just speaks about prophets
talman_corvett: What's special about it?
jockjamsvol6: Every three chapters deal with a different prophet, and each prophet is written in a different programming language. Maxwell, the first one, here, is written in Python. The next two chapters are also about him.
hisnamejeff?: What should we do against them?
jockjamsvol6: Eh, idk, leave 'em. They dont seem to be hostile against us so whatever
jockjamsvol6: Uhh
jockjamsvol6: We might
jockjamsvol6: have a fucking problem
polaricecraps: how come
jockjamsvol6: The forum thread has a reply, saying "Yes, I agree with you, PR34CH_IMP, I believe that we should not act against these people. I have been infiltrating them, just like Priest Haarm (known as FRAGMENTED_GL0RY in this Forum) has commanded me to do."
talman_corvett: When was that posted?!
jockjamsvol6: Three months ago
polaricecraps: Fucking piece of shit
jockamsvol6: @hisnamejeff?#2172 please explain this.
jockamsvol6: Why doesn't the ping work?
polaricecraps: He left the server
talman_corvett: fucking

SCP Sandbox III

Sandbox III: Revenge of the Sandbox

Gamers Against Discord, #general-shit, 19:25