Site Occupation: Researcher 

Date of Death: 1-18-2018 1-17-2018 
Time of Death: 1:07 AM 11:36 PM 
Cause of Death: Unknown 


Casualty Report 

Name: D-77283 

Site Occupation: D-Class 

Date of Death: 1-18-2018 

Time of Death: 3:21 AM 2:34 AM 
Cause of Death: Unknown 


Casualty Report 

Name: D-77212 

Site Occupation: D-Class 
Date of Death: 1-18-2018 


Time of Death: 11:07 AM 8:54 AM 
Cause of Death: Unknown 


Haley sighed, leaned back, and rubbed her eyes wearily. She hadn't 
been getting a lot of sleep these past few nights, she didn't think 
anyone had. She stared back down at the reports, not thinking about 
anything, until a Knock at the door startled her out of her stupor. 


"Who is it?" she yelped as she jerked upwards, scattering papers 
everywhere and knocking over her pencil jar. She frantically tried to 
organise the mess she had just made, but gave up when the door 
opened and a young man walked in. 


"Yo," Researcher Larry Alexander announced as he walked through 
the door and sat down on the edge of her desk, "| got the latest 
report for you. This one came with a video and everything." 


Haley looked at her hands. "Another one?" she inquired quietly. 


"Ya better believe it! This one happened just outside your office, 
halfway down the hall," Alexander exclaimed. "It's fresh too, only 
about three hours ago." 


Haley glanced up at the clock on the wall. 5:47! She had been filing 
the report on Bernard at barely noon! She must have fallen asleep 
while reading through the reports. She cursed herself quietly, but 
figured if this was the first time someone had come in nothing too 
important had happened. 


"You seem to get all the good reports lately," Alexander continued, "| 
swear you have some sort of connections or something. You wanna 
hook me up with whoever it is givin’ you—" 


"How many is that this week?" She interrupted, "How many times?" 


Alexander jumped slightly. "er, how many what?" he questioned, 
"How many times have | asked you about this? Maybe three, but | 
don't see why you're so upset abou—" 


"Not that," Haley demanded, "How many deaths, this week? 


Alexander looked down at the report as if he had just realised what it 
was for. "Twenty-six," He whispered, "That's twenty-six dead so far 
this week... how did I... twenty-six..." He slowly stood up, "I'm... 
gonna go see if they need me anywhere.” And he walked out of the 
room. 


Haley sighed again, she couldn't blame him for being so jittery, they 
all were. She reached over and pulled out the video tape from the 
earlier incident, slid it into the computer at her desk, and hit play. 
She opened the file and started reading it over, glancing up at the 
screen just often enough to avoid missing anything important. 


"Another D-Class," she muttered, "D-77335, hmmmm, | don't know 
much about her“ 


She felt a harsh pang in her chest, she remembered D-77335 so 
well. When she had first been assigned to Site-27 D-77335 had 
been the one who showed her around. They had spent the first 
week together, and even after Haley's job started full time, they had 
still tried to find time to go drinking together. Damn that girl could 
drink, she would drain shots like they were water and never seemed 
to get hungover for it. 

With tears in her eyes, Haley looked up from to file to the computer 
screen. She knew what was coming, and she didn't want to see it, 
but her job demanded that she had to watch. Her conscience 
demanded that she had to watch, to find some clue, some little piece 
of information that could be used to avenge her friend. 


But it was no different from any of the other videos. Everything was 
normal, and then D-77335 just fell, like a puppet with her strings cut. 
There was no exclamation, no sign that anything was wrong, she 
just fell over dead. And everyone else just kept going about their 
business. Haley slumped back in her seat. Nothing. There was 
nothing here that she hadn't already seen a dozen times before. She 
closed her eyes and tried to stop herself from crying, one of her 
closest friends, gone, just like that, without anyone even stopping to 


help her. 
Wait. 


Haley jerked upward. She frantically rewound the footage until just 
before the moment of death, then hit play. Sure enough, D-77335 
fell to the ground, dead, and sure enough, nobody stopped to help. 
Nobody even glanced down at her body as they walked past. 


Haley jumped out of her chair and dove into the filing cabinet, pulling 
out all of the recordings of previous incidents. And played them all 
one by one. 


Nobody noticed. Nobody ever noticed. The bodies weren't found 
until hours, days after they were killed. Nobody saw them, nobody 
noticed until they tripped over them or something. Nobody could see 
the dead. 


Unless they forgot they had seen them. 


Haley sat back down, and watched the times of death over and over 
again. Something. There had to be something that she could see. 
There had to be some unifying factor in each of the tapes. 


There it was. 

In the corner of her eye. 
The dark shape. 

A lost memory. 

A stolen memory. 


Haley could no longer ignore the pounding in her head. The voice 
was screaming at her to turn around. She slowly stood up, and, 
smiling, began to turn around. 


There it was. The object. The thing that nobody else knew existed. 
The thing that nobody else could know existed. It had stored her 


memories so she wouldn't be suspected, and now they all came 
rushing back. 


She remembered Brandon Sullivan's terrified eyes, as she had 
chased him down a stairway. She remembered the way his blood 
seemed to glow in the dim fluorescent lights. She remembered how 
he didn't scream, not once, only whimpered. 


She remembered Andre Johnson. She remembered dragging his 
broken body down the corridor. She remembered how much he 
begged for his life. She remembered taking him apart, all while 
keeping him alive as long as she could. 


She remembered Shannon Bruce. She remembered how the girl 
had suspected nothing as she approached her. She remembered 
the shock in her eyes as a blade was driven through her heart. She 
remembered the pathetic gasp of surprise that escaped her as her 
lungs gave out. 


She remembered Eric Bernard. She remembered how he had fought 
frantically. She remembered how she had tied him up, and cut him 
open. She remembered how she had pulled out his organs, and 
crushed them in her hands. 


And she remembered D-77335. She remembered her screams, oh, 
such delicious screams. She remembered the way they 
reverberated throughout the building. She remembered how she 
begged those around her for help. She remembered the hope going 
out of her eyes when she realized they didn’t notice her. 


She remembered everything about everyone she had toyed with, 
everyone she had killed. 
The door opened behind her. 


"Hey," Alexander said, looking up, "They sent me back up here to 
see if—" 


The last thing he saw was his associate’s twisted smile, and the 
nothing she was swinging at his head. 


Don't Worry About It 


If you don't know what this is, don't worry about it. 


Part 1: The First 


Hi, everybody, my name is Margaret Sawyer-Sheen, and I'ma 
doctor with the SCP Foundation! This si the story of how | fell in love 
with my dearest love of all time, Dr. Clef! 


One fine spring evening Maggie looked deep into Clef's eyes, they 
were sparkling with violet and amethyst. And with sparkling tears. 
"But how will we stop 682?" she asked, eyes glistening. "he killed 
my parents too! please do not tell anyone, | could not bear it if 
everyone knew. it is my deepest secret." 


"Don't worry," Clef said, his handsome face clearly visible to his one 
true love. "we will find a way because we have each other and that 
is all we need. We can do anything if we work together." Clef took 
Maggie's hand in his and picked up his shotgun with the other hand, 
full of determination to not to let her down. 


"My luminous pear," Clef said, frowning, "I think | have the perfect 
plan to rid ourselves of that evil, despicable, and handsome lizard. 
But I'll need your help. We shall allure him with the power of 
compassion. Not even his thick skin could hope to stand against our 
love!" 


Together, Clef and Maggie walked through the scary dark halls of 


the SCP Foundation, holding hands together, bravely facing the 
darkness alone. Until finally they came to a big, steel door. The door 
tht held the monster called SCP-682. 


Suddenly another door opened and out from the door came scp-999 
who said | will help you against 682!" 


"Welcome, 999," Clef says. "we will have the power of friendship 
and also love. Our bright hearts will bring tears of happyness" After 
SCP-999 joiined them bravely, thehy contfroned the door with eyes 
sparklingly at the same time. The door opened cavernously to reveal 
the monster that hates all love, SPC-682. 


"We hav e come for you this day, 682," Clef challenged, only one 
small quaver in his brave, musical voice. 


Maggie clung to Clef's side, the power of her kindness surrounding 
her with a soft pink glow, a warmth that could banish any evil. 


"Be brave," she whispered to Clef. "we can do anything if we try... 
take the power of my love and use it against 682!" 


Suddenly, SCP-76-2 rushed in and glared at Clef handsomely. “No! | 
will not allow you to do this, Clef, even if you are my ex-boyfriend! 
Maggie is my own true love and soulmate , and | will not share her 
with the lizard! We must fight!" 


Fighting is wrong!" Maggie said, as she stepped between Clef and 
Able. "| Know we were in love once, Abel, but that was in the past. 
Cle fis my true love now and unless you're willing to le tme go, you'll 
never get past your own violent nature"! 


Able looked down agt the floor with eyes downcast. "You are right, 
Maggie," he said with a somewhat calmer voice. "You were the light 
of my life and Clef was my bright and morning star but evrything 
must come to an end someday and now | understand that Clef is 
your one treu love as you are his. | promise | will not be jealous 
again." Maggie and Clef smiled at Able and Able was their friends. 


The lizard watched them all with an angry evil eye. "PROFESSOR- 
SCIENTIST MARGARET SAWYER-SHEEN". it roared in its voice, 
stunned momentarily by the researcher's caring and kind beauty. 
"YOURE PARENTS TRIED TO STOP ME LONG AGO! YOU WILL 
NOT SUCCEED" He also looked at Clef and growled menasingly. 


"Your parents never told you who | really am, did they Maggie!? the 
lizard said with vileness. "They couldn't stop me because | was their 
own son all along!" He grinned. "No, but that would mean you were 
my brother all along and how could you kill our parents?!" Maggie 
yelled, her good heart crying. "They tried to kill me because they 
loved you most because of your specialness!" The lizard raged, 
"You are as strong as me but also smarter and pretty and lovely, it's 
not fair! Now | will kill you!" "No you will not, because | have a power 
you can't hope to defeat." said Maggie with a smile. 


Because that was the truth about Maggie: Maggie was the daughter 
of SCP-343 and SCP-469, but while her twin brother, SCP-682, was 
given all of the evil and darkness in the world, she was made into a 
creature of beauty and light, incorruptible and pure. It was the light 
of her purity and goodness that cleanesd the darkness from Clef and 
Able's souls, and it was her light that now defeated her twin brother 
an dbanished him from the world until he could be reborn as a 
creature of goodnesss. 


And that is the story of how me and my true love Clef saved the 
world from SC-682. Feedback please! 


04@13:44 


05@00:00 


06@00:00 


06@13:23 


07@00:00 


07@11:15 


Specimens begin to chip ceramic 
from commode in observation 
chamber, using previously 
documented instruments. 
Chamber observed to contain 
approximately at least 22,000 live 
specimens of SCP-831. The pile 
of paint scrapings has been 
reconstructed. 

Chamber observed to contain 
approximately 40,000 live 
specimens of SCP-837. 
Containment breach of [DATA 
EXPUNGED] at Site-36 interferes 
with observation for 
approximately 122 minutes. Upon 
re-commencement of 
observation, the steel buckets 
and the commode in the chamber 
are missing. Dr. Garcia directs 
that from this point forward, wood 
pulp, water and sugar solution 
that are introduced to the 
containment chamber are to be 
spilled on the floor rather than 
contained in a vessel. 

Chamber observed to contain 
approximately 100,000 live 
specimens of SCP-837. 
Personnel D-334 enters the 
observation chamber at the 
direction of Dr. Garcia and 
intentionally scatters the pile. Pile 
is observed to contain a 
rudimentary crucible, a small 
mechanism resembling a lathe, 
and other objects of indeterminate 
function. There are several deep 
holes bored into the floor of the 
chamber. Dr. Garcia orders the 


Part 2: The Flashback 


Author's note: Okay, so people were complaining that my first story 
isn't aobut how Clef and | met at all, and they didn't get that it was 
called a flashback, so now I'm going to tell that sotry now, WILL 
YOU PEOPLE PLEASE GET OFF MY CASE!? 


Margaret Sawyer-Sheen looked in the mirror and sighed. She hated 
herself. She was so ordinary, not like the popular girls in the school, 
not like Lydia Erickson, the cheer captain. She didn't like how her 
mousy brown hair looked, or the fact that she had slightly too big 
front teeth, or the spattering of freckles over the bridge of he rnoe, or 
the fact that her boobs were slightly too big. She was bored, she 
was tried. She was looking for something new. 


Don't Get Used To It 


One-year-youngs don't understand hate. Don't get malice or 
violence. Evil won't be part of their vocabulary for another two years 
or so. They just see what's around them, and they take it in. 


Six-year-youngs on, the other hand, do understand hate. They've 
developed enough to feel it. They know that churning deep down 
inside that comes over you, and the vision turns red and all you want 
to do is grab the kitchen knife and start slashing until the blood is 
everywhere. Then your heart beat slows down. 


Thirty-year olds also understand hate, but they understand it better. 
They can live hate. Big hate, little hate, directed hate, universal hate. 
Contempt, disgust and revulsion too. From their own failures to the 
failures of others to vicarious failures, they have so many different 
reasons to hate. 


However, six-year-youngs and thirty-year-olds can't get used to 
hate. They have to shout at each other and threaten each other and 
have one beat the other with their belt because "you don't talk back 
to me like that". And then after the shouting stops, both of them 
recognize that hate is not a normal thing. 


One-year-youngs don't understand hate. But if you don't understand 
something, you can adapt to it. You can mistake it for something 
entirely normal. That hate is the way things are. That normal dinners 
consist of yelling and screaming. That on Friday nights daddy should 
come home with a slur. That every big sister has bruises across 
their backs and under their dresses. 


One-year-youngs can smile, suck on their pacifier, and get used to 
hate. 


And two years later, when the handcuff men take away mommy and 
daddy, and bring big sis to the orphanage, they'll find the three-year- 
old. They will hate it. And it will hate them right back with a smile. 


Because the hate will always be there for the three-year-old. To 
protect it from love. 


Closure