The smell of a high strength cleaning agent fills the air of the sterile corridors in the low security containment wing of Foundation Site 16. The pale gray concrete floor tiles glisten from their recent polish. Slowly, blood begins to run through the grout between the tile grid. Sirens and orange emergency lights blare in the otherwise brightly lit corridors. Sitting on the floor on one side of the corridor, a middle-aged man leans on the wall while gasping as he clutches his neck at the site of a deep gash. His purple badge marked with the number 4 indicated he was a senior researcher part of the Metaphysics department, in charge of understanding and determining means to better control reality warping anomalies and events. The man keeps his head angled towards the floor, trying not to stress the cut in his neck any more than he needs to. Slowly, he tilts his head up, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was starting to unfold around him, but then, he sees it. Casually walking towards him, a cloud of dark black fog pooling around the entity’s thin, gray-skinned feet. Their appearance resembled much like that of a human foot, except for the fact that the skin looked as if it belonged to that of a centuries-old mummified corpse. Its skin was stretched thin over the bones and tendons, coupled with an inconsistent thickness in other areas to create faint impressions of burn marks. Unable to look any higher he studies his surrounding area in hopes of finding a way out, but the voice in the back of his mind is right. Hush, it’s too late for that now. Wait, that wasn’t the researcher’s own voice in his head. Not even a few minutes now with the entity and he was already starting to lose his mind, he thought to himself. It was only around 15 ft away now, and its shadow already began to cover him from the corridor’s white fluorescent lights. Bit by bit, it gets closer. His heart beats heavily now, ba-bump, the darkness of the shadow growing to surround him, ba-bump, his vision growing darker, ba-bump, catching a quick glimpse of the entity. Wait, it’s stopped right in front of him. It kneeled down to face him, its joints creaking and cracking like a tree blowing in the wind. He tilted his head up, trying to steal a glimpse, but all he felt was a puff of cold air …
“Approximately 72 hours ago the entity designated SCP-8526 breached its low security containment cell on Site 16,” said Junior Researcher Dr. Jean Marshall as she presented her report in front of the O5 council. The room was dark with the only light sources coming from the projector displaying her presentation slides and a spotlight shining directly down on the researcher. This shrouded all but the silhouettes of the council’s 13 members, who sat on one side of a half circle table that curved around where the researcher stood in the center.
“Following this, the entity proceeded to rampage through the facility, indiscriminately damaging crucial infrastructure and at numerous times actively sought out and … consumed numerous foundation personnel.” The council remained silent. Marshall feigned a cough, then continued. “It must be noted that the entity had never exhibited many of the numerous abilities it displayed during the breach.”
She paused again, waiting for any reaction from the statue like figures. Again, there was no response.
“The damage incurred to Site 16 was … severe.” The slides switched to reveal a photo of a massive spherical crater, carved deep into the surrounding snow-covered tundra. “As you can probably already tell, the onsite nuclear warhead was detonated as well following the failure of all prior recontainment measures.”
One figure seated in the center slowly leaned forward and spoke in a deep, heavily distorted voice, “Dr. Marshall, your report specified that a Mobile Task Force supported by 2 squadrons of attack helicopters and a tank division had been dispatched to assist with on-site security personnel. The report, however, omits any mention of their status nor effect on recontainment efforts. Explain this.”
Marshall thought back through her memories of the events she had witnessed that day. Quickly, she glanced at the official report she had filed to make sure her near-death experience didn’t cause her mind to leave out or exaggerate key details. The last thing she wanted right now was for the council to think that her stories didn’t line up. She thought that if that happened, they’d think she was incompetent and probably the reason why this event happened in the first place, or worse they’d think she might have possibly helped it escape in some way.
“The omission is … uhm … correct. Shortly after the mobile task force and its accompanying support arrived onsite, they began to engage the entity. A live feed and radio contact was maintained with a mobile command station established just outside the blast zone. But this was before unknown interference began to block communications and stop most electronic devices from functioning. Staff on the ground reported numerous explosions and repeated gunfire. Approximately 4 minutes after the first shot was fired, witnesses reported seeing all helicopters simultaneously falling to the ground coupled with the sound of all gun fire stopping at once. The Scranton Reality Anchors positioned around the command center still showed high levels of reality distortion. It was 30 or so minutes after this that the warhead detonated; we think this might have been activated by some of the surviving operatives or site personnel in a last-ditch effort.”
“Why were the entities’ effects over electronic systems never discovered through routine testing?” responded the shrouded figure.
Marshall winced before hesitantly replying, “We were quite thorough when we first started our testing and no abnormal abilities ever showed up … This was the main reason why we thought it needed only a ‘Safe’ object classification. It was also pretty docile and seemed harmless overall when we first captured it …”
“Or, perhaps,” the figure interjected, “it had deliberately deceived your predecessor in order to access the classified information kept on the site.”
Marshall paused and blinked. Wait what did that mean? Did that mean they thought this … mindless thing they picked up was actually a lot smarter than it let them know? But how could they not have caught this? This thing was watched 24/7. It must’ve slipped up once, and they would have caught it.
Her thoughts raced, “I’m sorry?” she blurted out. Instantly, she cringed out of the fear she had for questioning the council’s authority. “But … but Site 16 was a low security research site, Foundation protocol prohibited valuable information from being stored there.” She added tentatively, trying to justify her previous remark.
For a moment, the figure was silent. Slowly, it turned to look at the other members seated to its side. Briefly, some words are exchanged, too faint for Marshall to hear. Another figure nods, before it turns back to face the junior researcher. “The information in question is contained within a specific artifact recently moved to the site at the request of the now deceased Dr. Alekzey Nowak. As his assistant and protégé, you are familiar with this.”
Marshall paused for a moment, she shuddered at the thought of Dr. Nowak’s disappearance early on into the breach. A tightness gripped her throat at the thought of what fate worse than death might have awaited him given the strange and abnormal nature of their field. At best he would have been killed quickly. But that was rarely the case for anyone caught up in a containment breach. At the same time it reminded her to be afraid of the Foundation too, as they could also be just as cruel to any researcher who broke standard protocol.
“Y-Yes… I am. It was designated as SCP-6198, ‘The Book of Chernobog’. The deity in question, Chernobog, is also known as …” She paused, composing herself as she read the second name listed on the file. “‘The Black God’ was the Proto-Slavic God of Chaos and Darkness. Dr. Nowak didn’t believe the entity was the deity itself, but he thought there was a link somehow between physical attributes it shared, as well as the few effects it exhibited that closely tied them together. He thought that by maybe bringing the two together, it might explain the origins of 8526, and perhaps help us translate more of the book… ” She trailed off.
Oh…Oh no. The realization suddenly hit her. It was on that same day that the artifact was brought onto the site that 8526 broke out of its cell. Oh, no no no no. She was one of the few surviving people who supported Nowak’s original idea. What had she done? And if that went down on record it could…
The figure shifted its posture slightly. “The level 4 clearance accompanying the artifact entails it be stored with specific protective measures. Remnants of its protective housing recovered from the blast site indicated it was physically damaged prior to the detonation.”
“But…” Marshall composed herself, alarmed by this new information. “But even if it took the artifact, there was no possible way it, nor the book could have survived the nuclear explosion.”
“We believe that to be quite the contrary, increased activity was detected in the remote Polish village where SCP-6198 was initially recovered. Satellite photos confirmed that SCP-8526 survived and is likely in possession of SCP-6198. Indications point to this having a possibility of leading to an Apollyon class threat.”
Marshall froze, her stomach dropped and face whitened.
An Apollyon class threat? That means the council thinks that whatever that thing is planning to do has a possibility to either end the world, or irreversibly change it for the worse. How did they know this for sure though? She thought to herself. But they were the O5 council after all, it seemed like they could see and hear just about anything that ever happened. Heck, some of its members were probably anomalous entities themselves.
“Dr. Marshall,” the figure called out, noticing that Marshall had physically reacted to the information.
“Yes,” shocking herself from the monotone of her voice.
“Armed response teams have already been dispatched with the sole objective of preventing SCP-8526 from achieving its end goal. 5 MTF teams will be deployed with assistance from the Nu-7 military corp. You’ve been given this information because you, Dr. Jean Marshall, have been appointed to lead this mission.” A second light from above illuminates a small spot on the desk in front of the still shrouded speaking figure. From the shadows, an enclosed file slides out stamped with the words ‘XK-CLASS SCENARIO’. Resting on top is the same purple bag that Dr. Nowak wore except this time it was branded with Marshall’s name.
With that the figure sat straight, regaining its stoic position and sat still in the center of the curved table. “Good luck Dr. Marshall. We’ll be watching closely.”
Declan Crowley is a first year student majoring in mechanical engineering. Declan writes, “As an avid Dungeons and Dragons player, I’ve always loved world building as well as creative writing because it allowed me to bring to life some of the characters and scenes I’d come up with in my everyday life. One community that I quickly became infatuated with was the ‘SCP Foundation’, one of the largest online collaborative fictional writing projects. I wanted to take the leap into adding my own piece as part of this fascinating universe.”