"| create art because I'm insecure and | want to project my 
insecurities onto others. | want everyone else to feel just as insecure 
as me. | know, it's a selfish reason, and you can laugh if you like." 


He waited tensely. 
But no mockery came. 


"That's great to hear. I'm glad you've finally come to terms with 
yourself. Now then, do you want to hear why | create art?" 


The man took a few moments to process what she had just said, 
filled with anger for a brief moment. But then, he decided to drop it 
and take the easier path of continuing this conversation. 


"Why do you create art?" the man said, smirking at the sudden swap 
of positions. 


"| create art because | want to give other people meaning where 
there is none." 
The interview concluded, and the man in the trench coat and the yet 


to be described woman walked out of the unknown coffee shop. 


The woman turned to the man with a start, as if she had forgotten 
something. Which as it turns out, was exactly what had happened. 


"| completely forgot to ask! What kind of art do you make?" 


The man paused for a second before he stammered out, "M-music. | 
like to make songs. It's a good way to spread a message, you 
know?" 


"Oh, for sure. Want to know what kind of art | make?" 
"Suc" 


"| make art installations, hanging on a wall. Stuff you put in a frame, 
y'know?" 


"That doesn't sound like a very good way to spread a message.” the 
man said, confused. 


"Maybe not. But it's a good way to communicate a meaning." 
"Ah. | see." 


The man stood there, turning on the spot for a few seconds, his 
hands shoved into his trench coat. He was trying to pretend not to 
be nervous, but in doing so he just made himself look more nervous. 
Eventually, he gave up on procrastinating and asked the woman the 
question he had been meaning to ask this whole time. 


"So... are you in?" he said, sheepishly. 


The woman faked contemplation. Her answer was set from the 


moment he had told the truth. 

"Of course." 

"Glad to have you aboard, then." the man meekly muttered. 
"Glad to be aboard. Meet you here tomorrow?" 

"See you then." 


The two parted ways. The man in the trench coat walked away from 
the unknown coffee shop, wondering why he felt not like he had just 
conducted an interview with someone interested in joining his group 
of rag-tag anartists, and instead rather like he'd just left a particularly 
vigorous therapy session. 


Termination_Order 


TERMINATION ORDER 
by "Dr. Clef." 


"Interview Clef-88 commences now. Dr. Gears, interviewer. Dr. Clef, 
interviewee." 


"You know who you look like? John Malkovich. You've got the same 
head and everything, except where Malkovich has a great, 
expressive face, yours has no expression ever. It's honestly a bit 
creepy." 


"Your sense of humor is as sharp as ever." 


"You like that one? How about this one. So three guys are lost in the 
desert..." 


"Please do not attempt to divert my attention. My time is limited." 
"Mine isn't. I've spent the past three months lying on a hospital bed 
staring up at the ceiling. Not much new here. | spend a lot of time 
thinking, though." 

"Would you like to leave that hospital bed?" 

".,. what do you mean?" 

"Dr. Valdason is dead." 


"... shit. What about the little girl?” 


"Her fate is... undetermined at this time. Given the danger she 
possesses even while in a coma, termination may be necessary." 


"Let me guess. You want me to finish the job?" 


"Negative. If termination becomes necessary, another agent will be 
assigned that duty. However, my superiors asked me to investigate 
your background further, given recent events. Please take a look at 
this." 


"| haven't seen that picture in a long time. | don't know what | was 
thinking with those sideburns." 


"| have a proposition for you, Dr. Clef. There is an SCP on this 
facility that has been... problematic... as of late. Terminating it has 
proven to be difficult. If you will do us the favor of eliminating it, | am 
authorized to offer you twelve minutes of exposure to the Locket, 
which should be sufficient to heal your injuries. In addition, | will 
grant you Level 4 Clearance on all SCPs, and a permanent position 
with a support staff of up to six employees." 


"| don't need a support staff. Maybe an assistant, but that's it." 
"Then we have a deal?" 

"Just one more thing." 

"And that would be?" 


"| want a nifty hat." 


Audio Log recordedon - - , 


Clef: Come in. 


Dr. : Hello... 

Clef: Angela . What a surprise. 

Dr. : | heard you're the one who nearly killed the 
Witch Girl. 


Clef: Nearly. Didn't get close enough. 


Dr. : You're the one who's going to take down 531? 
Clef: If needs be, yes. 


Dr. : Good. Make him pay... make him pay for what 
he did to my Michael. 


Clef: No. 
Dr. : Why not? 


Clef: Because it's not about revenge. It's about doing 
what needs to be done. Besides, what he did to your 
husband is nothing compared to what you did to him by 
betraying him. 


Dr. : That's not fair, it was... 


Clef: Procedure, right? Never answer in the negative? 
Don't be ridiculous. You're a woman. You know ten 
thousand ways to say no without sounding like it. 


Dr. :... you misogynistic... 


Clef: Go home. Be with your husband. Let off some of 
your misdirected anger and assuage some of your self- 
loathing by lying to yourself some more about having no 
choice. Maybe if you lie enough, it'll actually be true. 


Dr. : Fuck you. [door opens and closes] 


"Kondraki." 


"Clef." 


"Sorry about the leg." 


"Sorry about the neck." 


SCP-951: My Friend LUCAS 


Item #: SCP-951 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: A copy of SCP-951-1 is to be 
kept in a standard containment locker and to be used only for 
testing. Extensive information suppression of SCP-951 is not 
necessary; however, websites concerning video game glitches or 
bugs are to be regularly monitored for descriptions of SCP-951, and 
any individuals discussing SCP-951 are to be made to believe that 
SCP-951 is a regular, non-anomalous glitch. Individuals further 
perpetuating SCP-951's anomalous nature are to be located and 
given a Class-A amnestic and their copy of SCP-951-1 replaced with 
a confirmed non-affected cartridge. In addition, Foundation- 
sponsored ROM image files of non-anomalous copies of SCP-951-1 
are to be distributed to avoid accidental upload of affected cartridges 
and minimize exposure to SCP-951. 


Description: SCP-951 is a glitch found in the Sega Genesis/Sega 
Mega Drive game "Pauper: Rise of the Monster King" (hereby 
designated SCP-951-1), a turn based role-playing game created by 
Japanese developer . The glitch has been found in 
approximately 1 out of every 3 cartridges; however, there does not 
appear to be any recognizable pattern found among the affected 
cartridges. Uploaded ROM image files of affected copies of 
SCP-951-1 do appear to have the same anomalous properties as 
physical cartridges. 


Typical gameplay consists of the player gathering party members, or 
"monsters", and using these monsters to fight in enemy encounters 
found throughout the game. Halfway through the first act of the 
game, the player is captured and taken to the "Dungeon of Dorlok". 
Normally in this instance, the player would meet with the character 
"Hirago" and use that character for subsequent battles during their 
escape. However, if the player skips talking to "Hirago" and instead 


"If it's any consolation, you had it coming." 


"| have to admit, | was a bit surprised by the way you broke it so 
easily. You've got a killer's hands, Konny." 


"Shut up. Gears told me you asked for my help, so I'm here to help. 
What do you want?" 


"| need the butterflies." 
"Go talk to them yourself." 


"They don't like me now that there aren't flowers growing out of my 
ass." 


"| can fix that." 


"Kondraki, I've just been asked to take down an extremely 
dangerous SCP with reality-bending powers. How | do that is up to 
you. | can do it alone in a way that wipes out the entire facility and 
probably half the city too, or you can help me and we can do it ina 
much more subtle fashion. How about it?" 


"First take back what you said." 

"What... oh, about her? Okay, | take it back." 

"| don't believe you're sorry." 

"Shit, man... is it that big a deal to you?" 

"| broke your neck over it, remember?" 

"Point taken." 

From the Global Occult Coalition's Pamphlet, "Special 
Circumstances: Reality Benders." 


Reality Benders (Type Greens) have a certain mystique 
among GOC operatives. They have been attributed a 


variety of powers, from immortality to mind control. Some 
operatives even argue that it is impossible to silence a 
Type Green, and it is suicide to even try. 


Bollocks. 


The truth is, Reality Benders are human, and they have 
human flaws. Consider the following: 


¢ Reality Benders cannot predict the future and can 
be taken by surprise. 


¢ Reality Benders have limited range and cannot 
affect what they cannot percieve. 


¢ Reality Benders cannot impose their will on 
anything if they have no will to impose. 


¢ Reality Benders have human foibles and can be 
manipulated emotionally and/or rationally. 


Note that this holds true for 95% of Type Greens. For the 
5% that this does not apply to... well, you've got a slight 
problem. 

"Take off your clothes." 

"... all right." 

"Wow, you're hot... damn, those are some nice tits." 


"Don't be shy, baby... come here..." 
"Mmmmm..." 
<BAM!> "I'm sorry, am | interrupting anything?" 


"What the ... GET OUT!" 


"Sorry, | don't think I've introduced myself yet... Dr. Clef. I'm taking 
over your case." 


"What? As of when?" 


"As of now. Get out, Becca, the kid and | need to talk. Oh, and here, 
take your panties, you might need them." 


"No, no, no, SCREW that! YOU get out NOW!" 


"No." 
"FUCK YOU!!!" 
On - - at :.: , Subject 531's containment facility suffered 


minor structural damage. 


"Got that out of your system?" 

"What the hell..." 

"Get going, Becca. Kiddo and | need to have a little chat." 
"Yes, Doctor." 


On - - at ::,, Dr. Rebecca Flanders left SCP-531's 
containment facility. 


"<wolf whistle> Hot damn, that's a nice ass. You were really gonna 
hit that?" 

"| hit it five times this week." 

"Whew! Not bad... what does her fiance think about it?” 

"Fiance?" 


"Yeah, Becca's engaged to be married next month. Nice guy." 


"... not my problem." 
"Sure it isn't. Do you mind if | smoke?" 
"Yes, | do, | hate it when people smoke!" 


"Good." <sound of a Zippo lighting> "Hot damn, it's been way too 
long since | last had a Lucky Strike." 


"<cough cough>" 


"Oh, quit whining, it's just a little smoke." <sound of a chair 
scraping> "So, please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of 
wealth and taste..." 


"What the fuck are you talking about?" 


"Guess you don't like the Stones... anyway. My name's Alto Clef, or 
at least, that's what they call me. | have a real name, but it's 
classified." 


"Right." 


"Anyway, Clef's what they call me around here, but back when | 
used to work for the GOC, they called me 'Ukelele Man.” 


"That's a faggoty name..." 
"| kinda liked it. Hey, mind if | turn on some music?" 
"Go right ahead. There's some Nine Inch Nails in..." 


"| said music, not noise." <sound of a CD player opening and a disc 
being tossed on the ground> 


"HEY! Give that back! Damn it!" <sound of splashing liquid> 
"Awww, now look what you made me do with my Diet Coke..." 
"Give me that! Damn it, it's all wet now..." 


"Trust me, you'll thank me later." <sound of a CD player closing. 
Music.> 


"What the hell is this shit?" 


"This shit, kiddo, is Elvis Presley, father of Rock and Roll. And you 
ain't nothin’ but a hound dog. Anyway, back to me. Back when | was 
with the GOC, my job was terminating metahumans like you. People 
with powers that are beyond normal. My specialty was Type Greens, 
reality benders like you, people who can change reality by imposing 
their will on it. I've got ninety-nine confirmed kills.” 


"And I'm number one hundred?" <laughter> 

"Maybe. Let's talk first." 

"Sure, why not, let's talk." 

From the Global Occult Coalition's Pamphlet, "Special 
Circumstances: Reality Benders." 


Never talk to the target. Never look them in the eye. 
Never do anything that will allow yourself to humanize 
them. When the time comes to make the kill, you must 
be direct, forceful, and without mercy. Don't do anything 
that will make that harder. 

"So, tell me about your mother, kiddo." 

"My mom's dead." 

"| know. You killed two thousand people telling us that." 

"It wasn't my fault. | couldn't control it." 

"So you Say." 


"IT WASN'T MY FAULT!" 


"Like | said... so you say." <sound of a cigarette being lit. More 
smoking.> "Tell me about her." 


"She was great... never beat me up or nothin’. Didn't try and make 


me do anything | didn't want to, either. Best mom ever." 
"Hmm. Sounds nice. What about your dad?" 


"Don't even ask about that asshole... skipped out on mom and me 
when | was ten. Motherfucker." 


"Want a cigarette?" 
"| don't smoke... can you turn that fucking music down?" 
"No. So, how did you feel when she died?" 


"Fucked up, man, she was the only one whom | ever loved, the only 
one who ever loved me, you know." 


"| see." <sound of a chair scraping against floor tiles> "Nice XBox." 
"It's all right. | wish | had LIVE, though. Single player's not as fun." 
"You like playing online?" 


"Sure. Who doesn't like pwning nOObs? This one time on Halo 3, | 
took out three of them with one grenade, it was great." 


"Sounds fun. Anyway, kiddo, like | was saying, reality benders like 
you are my specialty. There are a lot more than people think, but 
they all tend to follow the same pattern." 


From the Global Occult Coalition's Pamphlet, "Special 
Circumstances: Reality Benders." 


PHASE 1: Denial The subject refuses to acknowledge 
their Special Talent. The Type Green will attempt to 
rationalize away their abilities by various means. In some 
cases, the Type Green will end here: their ability will be 
self-suppressed, and they will not proceed. However, 
most then proceed to: 


PHASE 2: Experimentation The subject acknowledges 
their abilities and begins to test the limits of their powers. 


In general, Type Greens tend to experiment in one of two 
patterns: slowly, methodically, and carefully, advancing a 
small amount at a time, or in a small number of sudden 
jumps. In any case, the subject will generally remain in 
this mode for some time, before proceeding to: 


[MORE] 


"So tell me about Michael Flaherty.” 
"Michael who?" 


"Angela's husband. The one whom you turned from a 30 year old to 
a 45 year old because you didn't like him." 


"It wasn't my fault.” 

"So you Say." 

"It wasn't... | didn't mean to do it. I'll change him back, | swear." 
"Angela's pretty broken up about it, you know." 

"T'll bet." 

"... is that all?" 

"What? | said I'd fix it." 

"So you say." <sound of another cigarette lighting> 


"Seriously, could you stop that? It's giving me a headache, and my 
stomach feels all weird." 


"No." 
"Fuck you." 


From the Global Occult Coalition's Pamphlet, "Special 
Circumstances: Reality Benders." 


PHASE 3: Stability The subject reaches the limit of their 
powers, and determines the boundaries of their abilities. 
The Type Green achieves control over their reality shifts, 
and can manipulate them as necessary. More 
importantly, they can choose not to utilize their abilities, if 
needed.