Lynn just glanced up at Baxter and pursed her lips for a second. Eye 
contact was held for around ten seconds before Lynn turned away 
and closed her laptop. 


"I'm going to get another burger." 
"Stay on the radio." 


The door slammed behind her. Now that she was gone, Baxter 
rolled down the window and pulled out a cigarette. His hands were a 
bit shaky, and it was more challenging than normally would be. The 
cigarette was lit, and Baxter's nerves were calmed. Then, of course, 
he waited... and waited, and waited, and waited. The street became 
black. Baxter noted just how long Lynn was gone. He knew she was 
mad, but this was bordering on compromising the mission. Was 
that...? In the heavy traffic, Baxter thought he spotted a black car 
with pink undertones — the door opened and startled Baxter. 


"You were gone a long time." 
"| needed some air. Where's the kid?" 
"The kid?" 


The kid was gone, and they both spied a black Ferrari careening 
around the corner. Lynn slammed the door shut, Baxter slammed 
the gas, and they were off. The car squealed into gear and drifted 
around the corner, prompting multiple honks and displeased drivers. 
They had until the car got out of city limits to tag it; the car could only 
disappear if nobody could see it. Lynn scrambled to get her seat 
open, and pulled the tracker rifle out of it. Baxter pulled over his 
phone, hit a button, and had the car suddenly burst into police 
sirens. 


The Ferrari, windows too tinted to make out the passenger or driver, 
drove erratically. It swerved and slid and skid on the pavement, 
blowing a noxious grey emission behind it. The pedestrians on the 
sides screamed and fled into buildings, confused cars pulled over at 


the sound of sirens. 


"We've got him, requesting backup by Garden City, find us on the 
radar!" Baxter yelled into the transceiver. This place was far too 
crowded to really get out of sight, why would he have come here? 
They turned another corner, and the Nile was in sight. The Ferrari 
grated against the pavement as it hit a street light with its right 
bumper. Click. They needed to stop them from getting to the water. 


A couple shots resounded in the streets as Lynn leaned out the 
window and shot the tracker rifle. The Ferrari barely escaped the 
two shots, one landing on a garbage can and another breaking a 
window. For such an anarchic driver, they must have been blessed 
with some unholy luck. Lynn began to clamber out of the window, 
sliding on two slabs of magnet into the heels of her shoes. Her feet 
made a loud clang as they stuck onto the sides of the car, and the 
sound moved up onto the roof. Baxter bee-lined for the kidnapper, 
who in turn headed straight for the river. 


Lynn steadied the rifle as best she could while she got jostled from 
side to side, clinging to the roof by the soles of her feet. She fired 
just as the Ferrari turned the corner. Why did it do that? The thought 
was interrupted by her insides pushing to one side. Baxter turned 
the corner and the car screeched. There was a commotion as the 
Ferrari ran over someone's leg. Baxter, caught by surprise, turned 
the car sideways and was forced to stop to make sure he didn't hit 
the crowd. Lynn, seeing the Ferrari darting out of sight, made her 
movements quick. Reinforcements weren't going to get there fast 
enough, and Baxter was incapacitated by the crowd. She found a 
stopped car, pushed the driver aside and started driving. She kicked 
it into gear and slid onto the sidewalk and pressed on the car horn. 
Civilians fled this way and that, and Lynn ground her teeth. The 
Ferrari was getting too far away for comfort. She saw the break in 
the railing on the side, a few more feet that way. The car was too far 
away to hit, how would she bridge the gap? 


There was a big cargo boat in the Nile. She only had the faintest 
idea of what to do, but her instinct pulled her to the left. While the 
car was still running, she rolled down the window and climbed out 
onto the hood of the car. She had to use the momentum of the 
impact to make this work. Her heart felt like bursting, but this child 


SCP-752: Altruistic Utopia 


Item #: SCP-752 
Object Class: Keter 


Special Containment Procedures: Areas 752-1 through -4 have 
been constructed around the four known entrances to SCP-752. No 
personnel are permitted to enter SCP-752, although unmanned 
infiltration missions using technology taken from inside SCP-752 are 
permitted. In the event of an uncontrollable containment breach, 
Protocol Shangdu-47 must be implemented. Otherwise, termination 
is not advised as it could lead to the release of SCP-752-1 in the 
event of failure. 


Captured instances of SCP-752-1 must be transported to Site-17 for 
questioning and examination and under no circumstance allowed to 

return to SCP-752. Instances of SCP-752-1 found approaching any 

of the 752 sites are to be terminated on sight. 


Description: SCP-752 is an underground city in the northern 
Mountains, spanning km2, population approximately 10,000. An 
array of electric lighting devices powered by a geothermal generator 
create day and night matching the rhythm of the outside world. A 
shield built of an unknown metal surrounds the entire city and blocks 
all Known signals and radiation, including sonar. Study of this metal 
is restricted to on-site efforts to minimize the chances of 
containment breach. 


SCP-752-1 are the inhabitants of SCP-752. Physically, SCP-752-1 
appear human. However, the social behaviour exhibited by 
SCP-752-1 in large groups bears no resemblance to that of humans 
or any other social mammal (although parallels exist in ants and 
other social insects). Individuals of SCP-752-1 possess no self- 
interest whatsoever and are motivated solely by desire to advance 
the ’greater good’ of SCP-752. SCP-752-1 currently possess 
technology significantly more advanced than exists outside of 


abducting bastard wasn't going to get away with this. Not in a million 
years. Not on Lynn's watch. 


She remembered at the last second that she was tied down by her 
magnetic heels. 


Trying to mitigate the damage, she attempted to jump, but was only 
able to get one foot off of the hood of the car before the crash. Sure, 
she was able to get off of the car, but she could tell that adrenaline 
was a merciful drug. Her left knee was more than dislocated; it was 
shattered. She spun three times in the air before her right foot 
banged into the side of the boat. Reeling in pain and lurching 
forwards to keep her head out of the water, she spied the Ferrari 
crashing off of the street and lurching towards the river. Using her 
hatred and the last of her strength, she ignored what was now both 
of her broken legs and raised her rifle. 


The scope dipped in and out of the blue swaying waves. Each time it 
got closer to the car. Closer, and closer, and closer. Almost, almost, 
almost — 


Shhhhhhhp 


The car crashed into the water and began to sink. Lynn dropped her 
rifle and stared at the wreckage as it sunk into the Nile, out of sight. 
She heard commotion as crew members noticed her hanging off the 
side, and began to help her up. She collapsed onto the deck and 
recoiled at the pain. Staring at the grande Egyptian starlit sky, she 
grinned in smug victory. 


Team Leader Baxter and Quartermaster Wojcik and a handful of 
other random nameless field operatives and researchers were split 
between a couple of helicopters and talking over intercoms. They 
were high above the Pacific Northwestern wilderness, somewhere 
over the tall woods of Washington. If business wasn't so serious, 
Baxter might have taken the time to enjoy the greenery. However, 


he was missing a partner, and it was getting to him. Wojcik's 
haggard old voice came through the ear piece and startled Baxter 
out of his intimate moment with the landscape. 


"We're coming up on the blip, get ready to drop." 


Baxter shifted in his seat and grabbed onto a pole to steady himself 
as the helicopter dove low over a small valley between the hills. The 
big metal vehicles hovered as ladders were tossed down off the 
sides. Operatives and researchers alike began to scale the ropes 
and drop onto the forest floor. People still in the helicopters threw 
down large bags full of tents, stoves, weaponry, reality readers, 
deconstructed work stations, MREs, and the like. Everything needed 
to keep a search-and-research-and-rescue operation in working 
order for a week or more. Baxter caught another bag full of 
something heavier than he was expecting. The impact made him 
release an "oof", and he plopped it down next to a group of idlers 
who were beginning to pick things up and separate the supplies into 
useful organized piles. After it was all said and done, and the last 
stragglers remaining in the helicopters had hopped onto the ground 
and saluted the pilots, everyone but a small group began 
constructing tents and impromptu laboratories. Some set up 
shooting ranges, others constructed rifles out of parts, others had 
begun constructing some fire pits. The place was buzzing with 
humming conversation and the sounds of hard physical labor. 


Team Leader Baxter, Quartermaster Wo6ojcik, Lead Researcher 
Voynich, and a handful of other operatives and researchers of 
various types all began a hike to the blip. They wanted distance from 
it, because it is usually a smart decision to not sleep too close to an 
anomaly. No matter how benign an oddity might seem, the baseline 
is that they were unpredictable, and you don't want to be faced with 
unpredictability while half awake — and you most certainly don't 
want to deal with the consequences of unpredictability while 
unconscious. The walk was mild; mostly flat and only took about an 
hour or two. Along the way, Baxter could hear some of the 
researchers at the front mumbling something about the trees. Baxter 
looked intently at the wood, and noticed that all the trees were oddly 
elongated. It was as if they were being stretched towards the center 
of this area. Even their branches were thick and thin at odd intervals, 


giving the area a discomforting distortion to it. 


Soon enough, they arrived at the blip. After Lynn had hit the Ferrari, 
the GPS tracker disappeared off of Cairo and landed right here. The 
center of this whole disproportionate woodland was the blip, and it 
had a pervasive shrine like feeling. All the elongated trees clearly 
pointed to this spot as the center. At the very center, several 
disfigured rodents and birds were laid and fused on top of each 
other. Voynich suggested that no one step over the spot. The 
sentiment was unanimous. Some simple experimentation showed 
that people on one side of the blip could not hear people on the 
other side of the blip. Just standing a foot away from someone 
around the blip and you would have to yell to make any impression 
on them. An operative took a tangerine they had been carrying with 
them and tossed it onto the blip. It stayed in shape at first, but within 
a minute it rapidly flattened and its contents oozed and spiraled out 
from the center. It's rinds became intertwined with bird feathers and 
squirrel skin, and its juice dried extremely quickly. Finally, Voynich 
handed Baxter a GPS tracker and walked to the other side of the 
blip carrying a separate GPS tracker with him. Wojcik stared at his 
devices for a second, and then showed the results to Voynich. They 
both circled the blip and came back, uncomfortably close to Baxter 
so as to disclose the information with no threat of hearing issues. 


"The trackers don't lie, and they say that this side of the blip is more 
than 4 kilometers away from the other side of the blip. We can't hear 
each other because whatever magic is making our bodies stay intact 
as we move is not hiding the fact that sound is having to travel miles 
to reach the other people. Speaking of bodies staying intact, we 
should vacate the area. Who knows what prolonged exposure can 
do to someone. Should we walk and talk?" 


Baxter and Wojcik nodded. 


"Good, then. The easy assumption to make here is that KTE-12079, 
‘Child Predator’, is somehow inside the 4 kilometer long space 
inbetween where we stood. The original assumption that ‘Child 
Predator’ entered a pocket dimension or extradimensional space is 
far less likely than him — we think it's a him, correct? — having a 
space that exists on planet earth but is being masked by a spatial 
anomaly surrounding it. The way the trees and landscape are 


stretched suggests that it's trying to fill in where the previous space 
used to be. It's probably some separate extra magic that allows us 
to walk through the area without stretching ourselves. | suppose we 
should be thankful we are dealing with someone who likes to keep 
up an appearance, whether that be makeup or otherwise." 


Voynich stopped suddenly and addressed the small crowd of 
researchers jotting down notes. 


"We know where it is, we know what it is, we have our fair share of 
anomalous operatives and devices on the case — now all we need 
to do is take the blip and crack it open. Men, get ready to face off 
against this century's most creative pedophile." 


« | Don't Get It, | Functioned Before|Vend-a-Friend Hub|Be 
Strange or Be Forgotten » 


Be Strange or Be Forgotten 


| was nervous. Shaken and nervous, terribly so. The past few nights 
| had awoken to the sounds of helicopters, and | thought | imagined 
there to be voices reverberating through the space. The great dark 
woods outside of my window suddenly felt less like a wall between 
me and the rest of the world and more like a great suppressor of my 
senses. | stared between their bars of bark and their perfect ever 
blossoming greenery and felt uneasy. | couldn't fall asleep like this. | 
rose, closed the curtains, and then crawled back into bed. The 
mobile that hung over my crib tinkled softly, and the glow in the dark 
stars around the room twinkled and sparkled at me. | had closed the 
curtains, why couldn't | fall asleep? | pulled my blankets closer to 
me. | wished that Mom were here to tuck me in. It was cold. It was a 
cold dark night, and | had work to do in the morning. 


| decided that if | couldn't get to sleep then | would just get up and 
do it. | turned on my bedside lamp, and stared across the room at 
the empty beds. This room was too red for my tastes. | was going to 
have to move. | opened the big candy cane door and exited into the 
hall. The kids' room's door was ajar. | peeked in, and saw the six 
little guys fast asleep. They were all so cute. So precious. | gently 
pushed their door closed. There was a soft rustling once | had done 
that. Maybe they weren't as asleep as | had imagined. | silently 
locked their door. Didn't want them to wander the house at night. | 
limped down the stairs and flipped on the kitchen light. | opened the 
oven and took out a cinnamon bun. | hobbled over to the couch and 
laid down. It was hard to move now that | couldn't feel my right foot, 
but work had to get done as always. There was always work to get 
done. Another product to make, another hand to shake, another 
cookie to bake... | should have been a poet. | imagined that poetry 
would have been an easier occupation than toy making.