For most of us, at least. | think there were a few lucky people who 
left in the middle of the first game to do... something. | don't know. 


Once the crazy religious guys figured out that they could leave when 
nobody else could, they started torturing 'em. Never got a word out 
before they resorted to just bashing their heads against the walls at 
the start of every repeat. 


But other than them, we don't have any way of getting out of this 
building. I'm not even sure an outside exists anymore. We're just in 
limbo, going around and around and... 


Several seconds of heavy breathing, followed by nervous 
laughter. 


The shit we've seen. Only took a few dozen go throughs before they 
started forming cults. Didn't take much longer before they were 
sacrificing players and children in a desperate attempt to get out. 
And it just got worse and worse from there. There was an outright 
war this one time; at least, they tried to have a war. Gave it up when 
they realized it was pointless if nobody stays dead. Few guys tried 
some psychological stuff on the heads of the people who could get 
out. They stayed catatonic for the rest of the time. We've had fires, 
electrocutions, shootouts - you'd be surprised how many crazy 
fuckers brought guns - holy crusades, cannibalism... even that day 
when the religious nuts tried drowning the babies in the backed up 
toilet. 


But it just keeps happening. We can change the way things happen 
all they want, but once that timer runs out, a few minutes later, 
everything goes dark and we're sitting right back where we started. 
The time between the go-throughs varies. Sometimes we have to 
wait a few minutes, sometimes a few hours, sometimes it's almost 
as fast as you can blink. It's all relative, of course. Feels like no time 
has passed at all once the go-through starts, but you can kinda 
remember an empty black period, like you don't even exist but 
you're aware Of it. It's really freaky. 


This one time, this one glorious time, we were gone for what felt like 
years. | was ready to just cheer that we'd finally gotten out. Then | 
realized that if | could cheer, that meant the game had started again. 
But just imagine: we could have just been out forever, and all the 
things that happened after they started trying to kill the kids would 
have never happened. 


But... we just kept going and going. The violence, the sex, the 
hatred, the fear, it was all there, and it just kept going. | died a fair 
deal of times during it. They even pulled my lungs out in an attempt 
to build a golem of some kind. But it's all in vain. | realized pretty 
early on there's no way out. 


And then everyone else did too. Every go-through, we'd have a few 
more people joining in on the suicide pact. They'd jump off the 
balcony, or get the guns and shoot themselves, or just bash their 
heads against the wall til they dropped. You'd have people being 
dragged along into it, people resisting, a few crude bombs designed 
to bring the ceiling down on us but... you know the drill by now. We 
die, it resets. 


So that's where we are now. Pretty much everyone but the smallest 
children have agreed to kill themselves as soon as everything 
resets. They drag the younger ones along. The ennui's finally gotten 
to us. We've all done the absolute worst things a person can do, 
even me. I've made myself sound like some kind of white knight 
while doing this, but really, I've done some horrible things too. | 
fucking brutalized a kid in one of the hallways out of frustration and 
just left him there. We hit rock bottom and kept going til we fell out 
into the void. 


That's that. Everyone else here has lost all hope, and I'm pretty 
much on the brink. It's only because I've got you out there listening 
that's keeping me here, and believe me, you're not that much help. 
I've got a kid's upper torso two feet away from me and the blood just 
keeps getting closer. There's a ringing in my ears and a voice in the 
back of my head that just keeps thinking of all the ways | have to kill 
myself. But so long as I've got someone out there, I... 


Oh, fuck, who am | kidding? There is no one out there. There hasn't 
been from the start. 


Thirty seconds of silence. 


| was never too much of a religious man. But | did go to church. 
Every Sunday. They said killing yourself is the fastest way to go to 
hell. Low as you can go. This place seems to be a whole lot lower 
than that. So if | just blow my brains out, maybe I've got a chance of 


climbing out of this place. 
Or maybe I'm just gonna wake right up here again. 


The man walks off camera. The sound of a gun being 
loaded is heard, followed shortly by the click of the safety 
being turned off. End of tape. 


getting out of there. 


We decided to wait for a bit until the thing shot its load, 
so to speak: if it made shit and cum, it would have to spit 
it out eventually, right? Anyway, that's when things 
started to go bad. 


[DATA EXPUNGED] 


| managed to wrestle the thing through 
the sphincter into the stomach. Its tentacles writhed at 
me as it started to melt. [DATA EXPUNGED] 


Then 835 blew its load and | flew out its ass into the 
ocean. 


You know the rest of the story, Bill. Except one thing. 
[DATA EXPUNGED] 


As for the rest, Fill itin from the reports and the logs for 
me, will ya? Oh, and be sure to edit it so the 
motherfuckers in command don't yell at me for being 
unprofessional in me AARs again. I'm gonna finish off my 
drink and take a couple Valium and go to bed. [DATA 
EXPUNGED] Thanks. 


BY SPECIAL ORDER OF O5-11 ALL EXPUNGED DATA FILES 
PERTAINING TO THIS REPORT ARE HEREBY RELEASED FOR 


GENERAL VIEWING. PLEASE SEE REVISED FILE HERE 


BY SPECIAL ORDER OF O5-11 ALL EXPUNGED DATA FILES 
PERTAINING TO THIS REPORT ARE HEREBY RELEASED FOR 


GENERAL VIEWING. PLEASE SEE REVISED AFTER ACTION 
REPORT HERE 


« SCP-834 | SCP-835 | SCP-836 » 


Entomophobia 


"Cold, not cruel" is how the Foundation was always described to 
you. From day one, you were told that the Foundation's actions were 
based on this motto. 


As an Overseer, you were supposed to keep it that way. Remain a 
cold, emotionless organization run by cold, emotionless humans. No 
matter the situation, you were to keep a straight face devoid of any 
emotion. Even if the world was coming to an end. 


Yet there was something different about this scenario. You've seen 
the world end more times than you could count on both hands. What 
specifically could make this apocalypse worse than all the others? 


"It's just my mind," you say to yourself. "we'll activate SCP-2000 or 
something and set everything back to normal within a week or so." 
You raise yourself up from your seat and decide to take a walk 
around Lunar Area-32. This is the only facility you never knew by 
heart. 


As you paced around the virtually lifeless Lunar Area-32, an almost 
childlike wonder filled you. Not only was it amusing to you that there 
was a facility on the moon, but it had everything you'd expect from it. 
It reminded you of when you were a child, watching the landing of 
Apollo 11 with your ray gun firmly in your hand. It almost brought a 
smile to your face. But all the years of drilling the words "cold, not 
cruel" killed it off before you could even stretch your face. To 
prevent yourself from getting nostalgic, you started to walk to the 
Level 5 dorms and check on the situation back on the blue marble. 


On your way back, something caught your eye. A "New 
International" Version Bible. Laying on the floor, almost as if it was 
placed there specifically for you. You abandoned Christianity after 
you read about that plane. The exact date and time was imprinted 
on your head. 


The 4th of January, 1981 at exactly 12:05 PM. The moment you 
stated that God was dead. 


Despite all this, the book was attractive to you. You picked it up and 
headed back to the restricted area. Upon returning, you decided to 
flip through some pages of the Bible. Despite the fact you swore to 
never return to God, everything in this book amazes you with that 
same childlike wonder. The revelations, the Angels, the beginning. It 
was all amazing and almost made you want to convert back. You 
decided to flip back to "Exodus" and read some stuff in there. 


If you refuse to let them go, | will bring locusts into your 
country tomorrow.... 


That was before the loud notification on your "SCiPtop" disturbed 
you and forced you to drop the Bible, and head onto the laptop. 


WARNING: ARBH-SCENARIO CURRENTLY IN 
PROGRESS. CLICK HERE FOR MORE DETAILS. ALL 
UPDATES WILL BE ENTERED HERE. TURN ON 
YOUR SYSTEM NOTIFICATIONS! ALL DETAILS ARE 
CURRENTLY UNCLASSIFIED FOR ALL CLEARANCE 
LEVELS. 


Nothing you haven't seen before. But you weren't too familiar with 
the whole ARBH Event, so it wouldn't hurt to take a quick read of the 
file. You stopped reading about world ending scenarios after those 
aliens invaded because you decided that dying in the darkness was 
better than dying in the light. This one was different though. It wasn't 
an alien invasion or World War 3; but just a load of bugs. 


It's named after the biblical 8th plague, the plague of 
locusts. ARBH is the phonetical translation of the 
Hebrew word for ‘locust’, 7218. 


...Biblical plague? You reread it just to make sure it wasn't your 
mind pulling tricks on you. And the it said exactly that. Biblical 
plague. Right then and there. You flipped open the Bible and tried to 
find the section you just read. You were just about to come upon 
something relating to a biblical plague prior to that damn computer 
distracting you. Yes, there it was. Exodus Chapter 10. Verses 4 
through 6. 


If you refuse to let them go, | will bring locusts into your 
country tomorrow. They will cover the face of the ground 
so that it cannot be seen. They will devour what little you 
have left after the hail, including every tree that is 
growing in your fields. 


Your heart stopped. You swore on your life that god was dead. All 
the horrors and apocalyptic events you've seen were enough to 
prove this. Even if god wasn't dead, he would have abandoned us 
by now. No loving god would let all of this happen. But a loving god 
would not live through all this. After sitting in your chair for a half 
hour pondering the great thought that just came to you, you came to 
one conclusion. 


This god is a vengeful god, and he is a bug. 


Everything you had believed for over half a century had just been 
crushed right in front of your eyes. God wasn't dead. God was alive. 
He was seeking revenge. These locusts were just the beginning. 
There was no other option from here on out. 


In that moment you began to break down into anger. You told 
yourself a big lie all these years. For more than 50 years, you 
thought one of the most dangerous entities in the universe was "just 
fairy tales". You launched your laptop at a door and smashed a 
lampshade with the laptop's remains. 


You began to think that there could be a way out of this scenario 
while you were smashing the lamp. "Anger isn't going to help... I'll 
just get more grays on my scalp". Maybe you could make a "deal 
with the devil", so to speak. Before you joined the Foundation, you 


were a telemarketer. A professional BS'er. Finding a way out of this 
should be easy. You picked up the Bible and prayed. 


Dear god, spare my world and everyone here will serve 
you eternally. 


Nothing. 


You prayed again. With more meaning and even using archaic 
language. 


Oh lord, spare this dying world and all shall serve ye for 
eternity. 


Nothing. 
One last time. With more emphasis than before. 


Father above, we repent here and now for all we 
have done. Retreat your locusts and let our world 
continue. We shall serve ye for eternity. Not as 
slaves, but as children of you. In your holy name, 
amen. 


Nothing. 


Nothing! That's all it was! That's all it ever would be! It was just an 
endless voice with no meaning. Oh what was the point of it all? 
None! You had no control of what this mysterious bug god was 
doing and now you had lost control of your body as you broke down 
in to tears. All those years of trying to entrench "cold not cruel" into 
your mind and blockading any and all emotion had been useless as 
now you were on the moon crying like a child who had juice taken 
from him. 


And yet you kept crying, not even over the bugs. But everything you 
had done over the years. Cheating death at another man's expense, 
feeding men to an eel just to make other men forget anomalous 
tidbits, oh it was all horrid! But you never thought it was until now. 
Such a hard thing to comprehend for one man like you. Seven 
minutes of silence in your puddle of tears would help you get over it. 


"Come on, Charles. Get your dumbass up". You lifted yourself up 
and sat back down. You've accepted that bargaining with this god is 
useless, you're too low on manpower to physically confront him. 
You... 


You're out of options. 
And you have accepted this fact. 


There are no more options left to fight the big bug bastard in the sky. 
It was time to call it quits. Under the desk was a .44, your favorite. 
Still in good shape too and it was fully loaded. A rare find these 
days. Shame you were about to waste it. The cold, metallic barrel of 
your favorite gun was pressed firmly against your forehead. It felt 
almost comforting in a way. Now to just to pull the trigger... 


Zero Hour 
Insect Hell 


/ 


Entropy 


It was inevitable. In a world full of monsters and cosmic horrors and 
all sorts of weird things, it was bound to happen. The end of the 
world. Some of the SCPs were designed to do it anyways. 


But it wasn't ever supposed to happen like this. Doctor Parker sat in 
his office, pondering what was happening. A week ago, it had all 
been fine. Many had left in the previous years, but containment had 
been maintained, and the world was, for the time being, safe. Life 
wasn't normal, but it went on. 


And then came the start of last week. A huge drop-off of Foundation 
personnel, while often mourned, was never considered odd. This 
group, though, had vanished out of existence. Many could 
remember them, but records of their deeds and history were simply 
gone. Task forces were assembled, naturally, but to no avail. 


The next day brought worse news. SCPs started disappearing. At 
first, it was the small ones, ones that had been locked up in the back 
of everyone's memories, like SCP-132. But then the more important 
ones began vanishing. Everyone swore they could remember 
SCP-082, but it wasn't in its cell. Its cell didn't even exist any more. 
The day 173 vanished was the worst. It had started the Foundation. 
With its disappearance, many lost hope. 


Two days after it all started, the task forces figured out something of 
a pattern. Many researchers and doctors were vanishing after all of 
the SCPs and Foundation history they had archived went. Not much 
to go on, but it gave those remaining an impression that there was 
some order to the senselessness around them. Though it didn't help 
matters, as those who made the discovery vanished soon 
afterwards. 


The world began to die. Whatever was eating away at the 
Foundation wasn't satisfied; it wanted to devour the whole world, 
and it was. Within a day, most everything was gone. At that point, it 


was only a group of less than a dozen, hidden away at Site 19 with 
the last SCPs. They had built up a field designed to combat entropy. 
A relic of a genius mind who had long ceased to exist. 


On the last day, Doctor Parker locked himself up in his office. In the 
past hours, the men and women around him had vanished, along 
with all their hard work. Site 19 was being consumed all around him, 
and only his office remained safe. So he ran in, locked the door, and 
waited. For what, he didn't know, but he waited nonetheless.