As | latch the deadbolt and set down my rifle, | hear it scream. With 
the humor that only the condemned can know, | chuckle and think 
that the deadbolt wouldn't do a damn thing. 


I'll sleep with my head under the pillow tonight. 


Goodnight, world. 


SCP-860: Blue Key 


Item #: SCP-860 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-860 is to be contained in a 
small wooden box in a vault at Sector- . By itself, the object is inert, 
and no further containment procedures are needed. 


Description: SCP-860 is a dark blue key of unremarkable shape. At 
seemingly random intervals of time, a series of numbers, later found 
to be UTM coordinates, will appear on the key's blade. In the time 
SCP-860 has spent under containment, the numbers have changed 
three times, giving the coordinates for (Germany), 

(England), and Site- . 


SCP-860 can fit in any door lock that requires a key located in the 
area of the given coordinates, and will function identically to the 
correct key for that lock. SCP-860 only works on door locks, and 
only if they are attached to a door; it will not work on any other type 
of locking device. 


When SCP-860 is used to unlock and open a door, the door does 
not lead to its usual destination. Instead, it opens into a small forest 
clearing centered on an 80 cm wide footpath, designated 
SCP-860-1. Every observation of this grove has noted the presence 
of blue-colored mist. 


As soon as any person enters SCP-860-1, the door automatically 
closes. From inside SCP-860-1, the door appears attached to an 
infinite concrete wall, and is locked. No attempts to break the door 
from outside, with personnel inside SCP-860-1, have been 
successful. Attempts to break the door from inside SCP-860-1 have 
resulted in [REDACTED]. See Document 860-III for more details. 


The trail inside SCP-860-1 usually leads to another door attached to 


Gor'dun the Consumer 


Gor'dun the Consumer sat upon his throne in the Dark Quadrant of 
the Andromeda Galaxy, shifting his weight to rest his head on his 
fist. His cosmic, almost impossibly dark face twitched in anguish as 
his eyes darted across the reaches of space, tracking an asteroid as 
it gradually descended into a lush, green planet teeming with life. 
Normally, such an event would bring him amusement, but Gor'dun 
was stoic; he simply gazed upon it, saying nothing as the tall, yellow 
creature at his side continued to prattle. 


"Your efforts thus far have been admirable, but | ask that you give 
this matter your full attention," the being demanded, its voice thick 
with reservation yet assertiveness. Part of Gor'dun admired it for 
speaking to it in such a flippant manner, ignorant of the danger it 
was in. 


"My lord?" 


Finally, Gor'dun broke his stance. His endless, crackling legs 
extended from the chair, bringing him to the ground as the throne 
rocked violently. The yellow creature tensed its shoulders and 
stepped back as the Consumer stepped forth, eyes still fixed on the 
distant asteroid. 


"Yes?" Gor'dun inquired, his voice carrying an impossible power. 
The creature trembled. "What are you going to do, if | may ask?" 


"Nothing." Gor'dun shifted his weight once more, locking his hands 
behind his back with his chest puffed out. 


"Nothing?" Courage returned to the yellow being. "My lord, the relics 
are being treated as common science projects. They have 
disrespected us, our culture, and - " 


"Your culture?" Gor'dun interrupted, his eyes meeting the creature's 


for the first time. "Where did you say you were from, mortal?" 
"Kaju." 

"Kaju. And what can you tell me of ‘culture’ on Kaju?" 

The question seemed to baffle him. "My lord, | don't understand -" 


"Precisely. You understand nothing." Gor'dun grew closer to him, his 
eyes now mere inches from the face of the petrified alien. "You 
came to me seeking assistance. Seeking vengeance for 'dishonor' 
perpetrated against your primitive, revolting excuse of a civilization. 
Look into my maw, cretin." 


As if on cue, Gor'dun extended his jaw, revealing an endless and 
swirling amalgamation of forgotten planets. Tortured souls screamed 
from the abyss of Gor'dun's stomach, pleading for death and an end 
to their infinite torment. Words escaped the yellow being, his face 
now twisted in an expression of incomprehensible terror. 


"lam endless. | am death. | have subjected your kin to an abyssal 
torture beyond the reach of death, and you have the audacity to 
demand a petty errand from me?" 


It managed to speak in spite of overwhelming, intoxicating fear. "My 
lord, they have taken-" 


"They have taken nothing. | serve only my hunger." 
"They have taken Ra’ash, my lord. He is their prisoner." 


Ra’ash. Hound of the consumer. In an instant, memories of 
Gor'dun's conquests with Ra’ash at his side filled his malevolent 
mind. The Consumer was not without attachment or emotion. He 
had longed for his beloved pet to return for many eons, yet none of 
his spies were able to locate him. 


"Where? Where is he?!" Gor'dun's voice became more demanding, 
echoing through the endless carpet of stars. 


"This is why | have come to you. Ra'ash is on Earth, locked in a cell 
along with our relics." 


"Earth. Pathetic excuse of a planet." Gor'dun swept his hand across 
the void, bringing an image of Earth into view. "What resides on 
Earth?" 


"One intelligent species. They are responsible for stealing our relics 
- for stealing Ra’ash." 


"Yes. The humans, they call themselves." Gor'dun again swept his 
hand, bringing a diagram of a nude man before his swirling black 
eyes. "Are they powerful?" 


"In general, no." The yellow creature drew a sheet of paper from his 
suit. "However, there is one group of note. They possess technology 
and knowledge far exceeding that held by any other group of 
humans." 


"And this group...they hold Ra'ash?" 
"Yes, my lord." 


"You will have three star cycles to retrieve your relics before | act. 
This group you speak of - could they pose a threat?" His tone 
implied he knew the answer already. 


"In theory, yes. They have failsafes - contingency plans. We believe 
they have limited control over reality, based on data from our spies." 


A grin stretched across his face. "Then they must be obliterated. | 
will see to it. Thank you, messenger of Kaju." 


As the yellow creature bowed and began to walk away, Gor'dun 
raised his hand to stop him. 


"Tell me...what do they call this group?" 


He turned to face The Consumer, hesitating to speak for a few 
moments. Finally, the words came to him. 


"The Foundation." 


The alien, clinical words brought a rare gaze of bewilderment forth 
from Gor'dun the Consumer as he watched the messenger depart 


his throne room. He smirked before returning to his seat, eyes 
trained on the still active image of Earth floating in front of him. 


"Hey, | know this question is probably meaningless, but what in the 
fuck are you doing?" 


Two men in lab coats stopped to face the source of the voice, their 
hands clenching the handles of a sealed metal box. They scoffed 
and began to speak in annoyed, preppy tones. 


"Taking SCP-6901 to temporary holding. You'd know this if you 
actually read the emails." 


"| do read the emails, Johnson." Doctor O'Connor lowered his head, 
eyes scanning Johnson's nametag. "If anyone can't read, it's you." 


Johnson's friend spoke first. "Who the hell do you think you are?" 


"| think I'm the project supervisor for SCP-6901. And | think you are 
blatantly disrespecting a superior. Wanna know what else | think?" 


Any sense of superiority vanished from the men's faces. 


"| think you're getting reprimanded if you ever speak to me in that 
insulting tone again." 


Silence grew like a cancer through the hallway. 


"What? Lighten up. You guys look like you've never heard a joke 
before. Christ." O'Connor chuckled. "Finish whatever it was you 
were doing, and do your best not to fuck it up, yeah?" 


The two men simply nodded as they proceeded down the hall. 
O'Connor giggled to himself as they turned the corner out of sight. 


"You can be a real ass, you know that?" 


Jessica approached him, her makeup-coated face stretched into a 
smirk. 


"Yeah, but I'm a funny ass." 


She exhaled through her nose, amused. "| suppose that's the best 
kind of ass." 


"What are you doing here? | thought you were on 8610 duty." 


"| was." Her body shifted towards SCP-8610's containment 
chamber, two doors down the hall. "Then | realized it was a piece of 
paper in a cardboard box and got myself a cup of coffee." 


"Well, I'm glad the world can rest easy knowing the only thing 
between normalcy and utter chaos is some chick with an espresso." 


"Hey, easy.” She playfully punched his shoulder. "And it's a fucking 
macchiato. Learn some culture." 


He said nothing, only softly laughing to himself as he looked in her 
eyes. 


Damn, | miss her, he said internally. 

"Don't do that." 

His smile vanished. "Don't do what?" 

"That. I've seen that look before, O'Connor." 


"| have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." He lied. His 
eyes, however, could not. 


"Right. Well, | better get back to work before you get all sentimental 
on me." She began to walk away, heels clattering on the floor with 
every step. "Oh, and don't be such a douchebag to the kids." 


"No promises." 


And, before he even realized it, Jessica was gone again. O'Connor 
buried the rapidly rising thoughts of Jessica and turned to return to 
his office, eyes somewhat glazed as painful memories played in his 
mind. Only when his hand turned the knob did they finally dissipate, 
his eyes bouncing back and forth across each piece of trash littering 
his desk. 


What a shithole. He lowered himself into his chair and typed a 
command into his terminal, the screen flickering to life with a 
comforting green glow. He typed another command, bringing a 
clinical document into view. 


Words began to filter into his mind. Highly dangerous. Predatory. 
Unknown origin. He skimmed several paragraphs before he caught 
something, rereading it several times as he attempted to process it. 


All of the addenda were redacted. 


O'Connor had read many heavily redacted documents, but not to 
this extent before. It was abnormal - there was nothing particularly 
intriguing about the item, yet practically all of the information 
available about it was restricted. Thoughts raced through his mind 
as his eyes stumbled upon a single word, burning it into his mind. 


Ra’‘ash. 


O'Connor uttered the word with a vague sense of familiarity, baffled 
as to the significance of it as he shut down his terminal and departed 
the office for the final time that evening. As he turned the corner into 
the employee parking lot, his pupils snapped to view the two 
researchers from before, struggling to maintain their grips on the 
now violently shaking box. An uncomfortable possibility slithered its 
way into his mind before he extinguished it and stepped inside his 
Car. 


He had only been driving for twenty minutes when he received 
notice of the containment breach. 


GOR'DUN THE RA'ASH THE Part Three 
CONSUMER COSMIC HOUND 


Gourmet 


She had a ritual that she always performed when approaching her 
meals. First, she laid out the pristine white cloth napkin and placed 
the implements upon it. Second, she poured the cup of water for use 
as a palate cleanser between courses. Third, she opened the 
lunchbox to inspect the food and select the first entrée. This time, 
she decided to start with some fried pork dumplings, with a small 
container of soy sauce on the side. Fourth, she took the first bite and 
savored. 


Oh god, she's finally here. It's finally happening. First day 
at college. First time away from her family. She's already 
on the verge of a panic attack. Her clonazepam was in 
her bathroom kit, god where is it, she needs to take a 
dose right now or she'll freak out now that her parents 
had left her. 


Okay, okay, there it is, good, good. Dry swallow one of 
the pills and sit and wait until it kicks in. 


Shit, someone's unlocking the door?! Who is it?! Oh, 
wait, roommate. That's right, she had a roommate now. 
Can't freak out on her first thing, appearances are 
important, first impressions are important, can't make her 
think she was a nutso or anything. The door's opening, 
stay calm. 


"Hi! I'm Janine, your roommate—" Tired-looking girl with 
her parents behind her, maybe they had to drive a long 
way? "Uh, do you need help bringing stuff in?” 


The trio look at her and she feels her ears start to burn. 


The new roommate says, "Yeah, could you hold the door 
open while we carry this in? We're parked at a meter, so 
we want to make this as fast as possible." 


Okay, first impression seems okay. Not actively hostile 
anyway. Maybe this can work. 


"Sure! I'll come down and help with the next load." 


Ah, a college experience. Delicious. Expectation and excitation and 
nostalgia wrapped together with just a soupcon of longing to add 
that wonderful aftertaste. Stressful without leaving a bad taste in the 
mouth. 


She took a sip of water to clear her mouth and the contemplated the 
next course. Perhaps a little of both sweet and sour. She removed 
the perfect, ripe orange from the lunchbox and began to peel it 
slowly, letting the intense citrus smell engage her as she collected 
the rind in a small pile. She idly considered turning that into a 
marmalade for later enjoyment. Finally, she gently sectioned the 
orange and brought the first wedge to her lips. As she took a bite, 
she was pleased to note that it was the perfect amount of both 
tartness and sweet. 


Her face aches from smiling so much. A pleasant ache, 
one of joy and happiness, the kind that reminds you that 
everything can be perfectly good. Is this what people 
mean when they say that they're deliriously happy? 


It's hard to believe that Jesse loves her, too. She's never 
known anyone as fun and kind as him, and she loves 
him dearly. Going to the basketball team's first home 
game with him sounds kind of silly as a first "official" 
date, but they both like the university's team this year 
and besides which, they met at a game anyway, so it's 
good luck. 


What to wear, what to wear? Casual, since it's a game, 
not a fancy dinner, but not too casual; don't want to make 
it look like she doesn't care about looking nice for him. 
The "nice" jeans and a red hoodie should be perfect. 
Just a little makeup, gotta get ready to meet him in the 
dorm lobby and oh! He's already waiting for her, a silly 
grin on his face, too. 


This is going to be a perfect night out with him, isn't it. 


She was slightly and pleasantly surprised to have more college 
experiences; usually her meals elicited unrelated enjoyments. She 
was also somewhat puzzled as to why this time she only had a 
single emotional note instead of something more... complex. She 
wasn't disappointed, per se, but more curious as she considered the 
situation. She absently ate another orange wedge, savoring the 
burst of juice across her tongue. 


The deep glow of her love and affection for Jesse warms 
her heart whenever she thinks about him. Gotta work on 
biochem homework but it's hard keeping her mind off 
him, especially with that Valentine's Day bouquet sitting 
right there. \t's even her favorite flower, daisies, instead 
of roses, and they're still in full bloom in the vase he'd 
made for her in his pottery class. 


Still, school is important, really really need to buckle 
down and focus. At least her roommate Kelly is listening 
to her music on headphones tonight, so the Europop she 
likes isn't filling the room. 


Gah! Why's Kelly shaking her shoulder? She'd just 
gotten into the zone! Wait, it's been an hour already? 
Sheesh. 


"Huh? What's up?" 


"Beth is here and wants to talk with you. Something 
happened but she won't tell me what."