This kid didn’t want to be alone. | betted he only saw me and the 
scientists all day so | slumped against the wall in order to get settled. 


“Sadly, my life is very uneventful,” | explained. “I dropped out of high 
school, never went to university and I’ve only ever left the country 
once to go to Canada.” 


“I’ve been to Canada,” he said happily before taking another bite of 
his small meal. “My family went there to go skiing. Why did you go?” 


“Skiing as well.” 
“Cool.” 


Our mundane conversation continued for the next ten minutes. 
However, | realized it was probably time for me to go before the 
receptionist started to get suspicious. 


“I’m sorry, Danny, but | really think | should leave,” | explained while 
standing up. 


He nodded understandingly even though is expression was that of 
dismay. 


“Anything extra you want me to bring you tomorrow?” 

He ran his fingers through his hair awkwardly. 

“Uh, would you happen to have any spare pens or notepads?” 
“Yeah, I'll bring you some.” 

“Thank you. See you tomorrow.” 

“Bye.” 


Poor kid, | thought again while closing the door. | wondered how 
long he would be stuck in this place. He wasn’t like the other things 
here. He was just a normal guy who got confused for something 
else. 


| slipped a standard Foundation notepad, pen and extra plate of 
mashed potatoes into the cart before making my way to the block 
three reception. | was probably being unfair to the other creatures | 
had to serve, but this kid was so different from anything else in block 
three. | felt like | was doing the minimum | was supposed to do by 
treating him like a human being. 


“Here ya go,” | said while sliding the food tray along with the notepad 
and pen across the floor and into the red square. 


Danny beamed and scrambled over to collect his gifts. 
“Thank you so much,” he said enthusiastically. 

“Do you like drawing?” 

He blushed. 


“Heh, yeah. | loved art class in school. I’m not very good, but | can 
try to sketch you... if you want.” 


| had to think for a moment. If he was quick sketcher we weren't 
going to have a problem. However, if he was very precise with every 
detail that could take a whole hour. 


“You can give it a shot,” | said casually. 


He was done in five minutes. | asked to see, yet he seemed hesitant 
to show me. 


“It’s not very good,” he warned me as he flipped the notepad around. 


| smiled. This kid lacked confidence even though he was an 
amazing artist. 


“It looks great. Certainly better than how | actually look.” 
He laughed and shook his head. 
“No, this is terrible. You look much nicer in the flesh.” 


The following few weeks followed the same cycle. I’d serve all the 
other things and then hang out with Danny for a bit. He was a really 
sweet guy which only made me feel worse that | was standing by as 
he suffered in here. 


In fact, he was getting worse. Every day he got thinner and weaker 
no matter how much extra food | gave him. | assumed the tests the 
scientists were running on him were causing this. | felt helpless as | 
watched his body slowly degrade. 


At the end of the month | entered his cell only to find him crumpled 
up on the ground sobbing uncontrollably. Disobeying the rules, | 
quickly set the tray down and stepped over the line. | cradled his 
upper body only to discover his scalp covered in blood. 


“Holy fuck,” | gasped. 

“They’re going to kill me,” he wailed. 

My eyes widened at that claim. 

“What?” 

He took a few long breaths so that he could speak. 


“They’re gonna take my brain out of my body. I’m gonna die!” 


“Fuck,” | groaned. “They can’t do that!” 
“| don’t want to die,” he blubbered. “I don’t want to.” 
“| know,” | hummed while rocking him back and forth. 


We didn’t say anything more for a long time. | chose to neglect my 
usual leaving time in order to try and comfort Danny. 


They couldn't kill him. He was only eighteen. It was just wrong. 
“P-please save me,” he begged. 


His words pierced my heart like a knife. | felt sick. No matter how 
desperately | wanted to save him there was nothing | could do. 


“| can’t,” | admitted. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You have no idea how 
much | want to get you out of here. I’d sacrifice myself if meant you’d 
go free, but there’s no way out.” 


He cried for a little longer before he began to calm down. He leaned 
against my chest and stared at the ceiling — | assumed he was deep 
in thought. 


“Do you know, err, when the scientists plan to do this?” | asked. 
He sniffed before answering: “They’re coming back tonight.” 
“Fuck.” 

He closed his eyes to try and remove himself from reality. 


“Dan, is there anything you want me to do right now? If they’re 
coming back tonight then | have to leave within three hours before 
it’s six, but if there’s any final things | can do for you... just ask.” 


He sat up properly and rubbed his eyes. 
“W-would you kiss me?” 


| was a little surprised by that request and was conflicted about how 
to respond. | would be an asshole if | rejected him, but the age 
difference was a problem. | was a full decade older than him. 


“l-I’ve never kissed someone.” He sighed. “And | don’t want to die 
not knowing what it’s like.” 


A fair request, | thought. / would never forgive myself if | denied him 
his final wish. 


“Okay.” 
| could see a faint smile on his face through all the tears. 
“Thank you. | know it’s stupid, but...” 


“You don’t need to explain, Danny. I’d want the same thing if, uh, 
never mind. Yeah, let’s do this.” 


He was quite quick to press his forehead against mine. | sensed 
some of his blood was now on me, but chose to ignore that detail. 


Something felt odd as he pressed his mouth against mine. His lips 
were unusually cold, yet | ignored that because it really didn’t matter. 


Something’s wrong, | realised when his so-called tongue slithered 
into my mouth and reached the back of my throat. It then flicked 
upwards as it attempted to break through the roof of my throat in 
order to get to my brain. Fuckity fuck. This is all wrong. 


At that point | began to push away from him. Opening my eyes, | 
was greeted by a pair of dark purple ones staring back at me. 


Holy shit! 


For a scrawny thing he was pretty strong. In fact he was inhumanely 
strong. | couldn't escape his vice grip on my shoulders and my 
attempts to push him away failed miserably. 


“Mmmph!” was all | managed to get out as my air got blocked off. | 
was now choking on his tongue. 


Everything went black when his tongue punctured the top of my 
throat and went straight for my brain. My first thought was that | had 
died... but if | had died then how would | have been thinking? 


To my surprise, all the pain faded within a few seconds as Danny let 
go of me and retracted his tongue. My vision gradually returned after 
my brief blackout. 


| was staring into my eyes. 
“What the fuck?” | gasped in voice that was not my own. 


| moved away from Danny and stood up. As | watched myself stand 
up | realized what was going on. 


Holy fuck, he’s in my body. This was confirmed when | looked down 
and saw the scrawny frame in a jumpsuit | now possessed. 


“W-what?” | asked, this voice cracking due to the crying Danny had 
been doing earlier. 


“You said you’d sacrifice yourself if it meant I’d go free,” my voice 
replied in a rather cocky manner. 


“But | didn’t mea—” 


“You didn’t mean it?” the monster in my body asked. It almost 
sounded offended. “Oh well, no take backs. See ya later, Danny.” 


“No!” | screamed as he headed for the door. 


Danny’s former body stumbled as | tried get up. | tried to chase after 
my own body, but the chain around my ankle took me by surprise 
and Danny’s body hit the floor. | was numb to the pain because my 
nervous system had not adjusted to the new body. 


“Danny, please!” | begged as he opened the door and stepped 
through. 


“I’m not Danny,” he replied. “My name’s Jay.” 


| continued to scream even after the door was closed. There was no 
one who could help down here. 


Why did | trust him? Oh my god, | trusted him. He was a monster all 
along. 


| screamed and cried for the following hours out of anger at my 
surreal situation. Three hours later Danny’s body was lying on the 
floor covered in tears and blood. 


What | have done? 


Danny’s heart skipped a beat when the door to the cell opened. Two 
men in white lab coats and a female guard poured in. 


No. Fuck! 


“You ready, Danny?” the black-haired scientist with a Spanish 
accent asked. The smile on his face suggested he was quite excited 
about what was coming. 


“?’m not Danny!” | cried. “I-l’m Jay Owens! Danny tricked me! 
Please... I-| need your help.” 


The red-haired scientist sighed and rolled his eyes. 


“For fuck’s sake, telling that same fib a hundred times doesn’t make 
it anymore true,” he growled. “Now, are you going to be cooperative 
or are we going to have to use force?” 


He gestured to the guard who lit up her cow-prod-like device. 
“I’m not lying,” | sobbed. “Please, he’s in my body.” 


The black-haired man ignored my pleas and instead pulled out a key 
before kneeling down near me. 


“Give me your ankle.” 


If he unlocks you he’ll take you away to be killed, | thought. He did 
not look pleased when | refused to obey. 


“Becca,” he grumbled. 


“No!” | screamed as the guard came over and jammed the cattle 
prod into my stomach. 


My whole body jittered as electricity ran through it. | just had to lay 


SCP-942: Blood Candy 


Item #: SCP-942 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-942-2 is to be stored ina 

locked safe-deposit box at Site 's Low Risk Object Storage. Access 
is to be limited to experiments with prior written permission from the 

current SCP-942 lead researcher. ! 


Any personnel affected by SCP-942-1 must remain within 
Foundation controlled facilities at all times. Contact with civillians, 
personnel without level 2 clearance on SCP-942, or other 
anomalous items is strictly forbidden for affected personnel. Affected 
personnel are to be given a higher priority for psychological 
screening and aid. Any civilians affected by SCP-942-1 are to be 
recruited or terminated with suitable cover stories on a case-by-case 
basis. 


If additional instances of SCP-942-2 are encountered, the object is 
to be retrieved as soon as possible and the surrounding area 
checked for affected subjects. Destruction of additional instances of 
SCP-942-2 is authorised if retrieval proves infeasible. 


Description: SCP-942-1 are colored gumballs of standard (2.53cm) 
size. From the moment an instance of SCP-942-1 is ingested, the 
consumer's bodily fluids will take on the appearance of blood upon 
leaving the subject's body. The fluids will coagulate like normal 
blood and are indistinguishable from blood by sight, smell, or touch. 
However, observation by means other than the aforementioned, 
such as chemical analysis or infrared spectroscopy, will indicate the 
original substance. Other than coagulation the fluids show no 
anomalous reactions or chemical processes. The subject's actual 
blood, and the properties of bodily fluids while remaining inside the 
body appear to be unaffected. The nasal cavity and the surface of 
the eye are not entirely free from the effect, resulting in the 


there as the scientist removed shackle around my ankle. The whole 
situation felt so unreal. At no point in my life did | ever plan on 
swapping bodies and then having my brain removed. 


I’m asleep and this is a nightmare. That is the only logical 
explanation, | told myself as the three Foundation workers carried 
me out. | was hung over the shoulders of the red-haired guy and the 
guard as the Spanish guy led the way. 


“Please,” | mumbled groggily as | slowly regained control of Danny’s 
mouth. “I’m not your guy.” 


“I’m going to go ahead and call bullshit,” the red-head said with a 
scoff. “| am impressed you've been able to keep this act up for the 
whole fucking month, but it’s over now. You don’t need to pretend 
anymore.” 


“No,” | whined. There was no way | was going to be able to convince 
these guys | wasn't Danny. 


The receptionist didn't bat an eye as Danny’s body was dragged 
past the counter. This was apparently a regular occurrence. 


In my desperation | started to scream “please help me!” over and 
over again and tried to squirm away from the guard and the scientist 
holding me up. The guard let me drop and pulled out the cattle prod 
again. This time she held it on my body for longer to ensure that | 
didn't try any shit like that again. 


The black-haired scientist led us to a small surgery room close to 
the test subject block. There was a full surgical team waiting around 
an operating table. | was dropped onto the metal slab and buckled in 
with the leather straps. | began to cry again. | was utterly helpless 
and about to die. 


There was a clicking sound as a metal brace was secured around 
my neck in order to make sure | didn't move my head. However, just 
out of the corner of my eye | could see the saws, scalpels other 
utensils that were going to be used for this procedure. 


“Please, Danny swapped bodies with me,” | tried to say, but all | did 


was moan. My mouth was numb from the second shock. 


One of the most disturbing factors in all of his was the fact that none 
of the surgical staff dared to look at my face in case they made eye 
contact. Even the chief surgeon who was standing right above my 
head looked at the opposite wall rather than down. | got the feeling 
none of them actually wanted to be doing this, but they were 
probably just as trapped here as Marta and | were. 


A nurse stopped next to me with a syringe in her hand. | made one 
last desperate attempt to communicate, yet only more gargling 
sounds escaped Danny’s mouth as she pressed the tip of the needle 
into my arm and started injecting sedative into my body. 


“Five seconds,” she stated coldly before moving away from the 
operating table. 


The last thing | ever saw was the chief surgeon picking up his saw 
running his finger gently across the edge to test its sharpness. 


I’m not Danny. I’m Jay. Somebody please help me. 


Some Are Born To Endless Night 


29th May, 2008. 
| am. | was. | will be. 
| am here. 


OK, OK, it's becoming quite difficult to dream this. Hang 
on a moment, diary. | will be with you shortly. 


There we go. 


My name is- or my name was, at any rate- Jacob 
Montauk. | am 14 years old. | was born in the St. Timothy 
Hospital, up in Birmingham. | never liked Birmingham. It's 
not the chavs or the dirt on the street or the dull grey 
colour of the buildings; it's the way the rain doesn't cool 
or chill, or make you think, or make a pleasant smell of 
dirt. It just seems to accentuate the surroundings, makes 
the grey greyer, makes the peoples' faces into strange 
and inarticulate nothings. 


Sorry. Auntie is always saying that I'm overarticulate, and 
that my prose is wildly self-indulgent. She's right, of 
course. | am only 14. | should be playing in the sun, not 
writing this purple nonsense. 


So. Four days ago, | fell into a shadow. | didn't mean to- 
it just sort of happened. I'd stayed late from school, with 
the animation club, and then I'd tripped and fallen right 
where a tree blocked the light. There wasn't anyone 
around to see me. Everything went... weird for a 
moment. Like the very beginning of something 
happening, when you first start to see someone's 
expression for a moment, before it's all suddenly cut off. | 
think it's because they saw me, sprawled all over where 


nobody could see or help. So they took me.