"Oh, sorry, of course," Dr. Mann said. He hurried through the 
laboratory, avoiding tripwires, nooses, and sundry other traps as he 
did so. A quick swipe of the auto-scalpel, and the man was returned 
to the floor. "You haven't seen an android, have you?" 


"What? No!" The man struggled back to his feet. "Look, | was just 
told | had to deliver this package to Dr. Mann." 


"I'm Dr. Mann," he said. 


"Well, here's your package. And you're welcome to it!" The man 
stormed off, not even saying goodbye. 


Dr. Mann picked up the package and walked back into his office. He 
wondered what it might be. Was it a present? He tried to remember 
if it was his birthday. No, it wasn't his birthday. That had been a 
month ago. He had gotten a nice e-mail from the Foundation 
reminding him to get a physical. Was it Christmas? 


It had to be Christmas, he decided. He opened the box with the 
auto-scalpel, and looked at the contents. Inside were several odd, 
round fruits, about the size of a pomegranate. The skin was a very 
dark purple. There was also a note. It said, "He waits behind the 
walls." Most peculiar. 


Dr. Mann picked up the auto-scalpel. 


Two minutes later, Dr. Mann stumbled out of the room, covered in 
stinging insects. "Bees!" he screamed. "Why did it have to be bees?" 


He tripped over a wire, and his arm was caught by a snare, pulling 
him off his feet entirely. His feet knocked over a stick, releasing a 
small avalanche of ball bearings beneath him, which knocked him 
over again as he tried to regain his feet. His flailing arm broke a 
string, and a bunsen-burner-turned-flamethrower activated, setting 
his coat on fire. He pulled his arm from the snare, falling over a chair 
and knocking over a small basin of acid which fell down his leg. He 
screamed, and swallowed a bee. He choked and flailed as he tried 
to make for the exit before finally stepping into a snare and being 
pulled upside down, dangling over several of his trained surgeon- 
crabs, which jumped up and down as though expecting treats. 


"It sent fruit from 417?" asked the psychologist. "And you 
tried to eat it?" 


"| thought it was a Christmas present," said Dr. Mann. 


"It's almost July!" said Dr. . "Forget it. Just... Just tell 
me what you did after you got down." 


"Well, after | excised the affected tissue and performed 
emergency heart surgery on myself, | endeavored to get 
help." 


Dr. Mann looked down the hallways, desperately looking for help. 
Any help. 


He walked past Dr. Clef's office. 
All right, not quite any help. 


He looked in the break room. The only person inside was Agent 
Tam, who was eating some sort of sandwich. 


"Excuse me, Agent Tam, could | borrow a moment of your time?" he 
asked. 


"Sure thing, Mann! What's up?" asked Agent Tam. 


Dr. Mann sat down across from Agent Tam. "Hatbot keeps trying to 
kill me. I'm very frightened. | think it may succeed soon." 


"That's crazy! Hatbot's awesome. Why, I'm getting a Hatbot tattoo!" 
said Agent Tam. "Fuck trees, | climb—" 


"But you don't understand!" Dr. Mann said, desperately. "It struck 
me! It set fire to my office! It covered me in bees!" 


"Bees? Sounds like you need an exterminator." Agent Tam began to 
chuckle, then looked down at his sandwich. "Goddamn! Some 
bastard stole the mustard!" 


"Please, Agent Tam, this is important," said Dr. Mann. 


"So's this! Some bastard stole my mustard! That was good fucking 
mustard! I'm going to ram my fist down the throat of whoever took 
my mustard!" Agent Tam threw down his sandwich in disgust. 


Dr. Mann was hit by sudden inspiration. "It was Hatbot!" 


"Hatbot?" Agent Tam looked at Dr. Mann wildly for a moment, then 
growled in rage. "I'll kill that pile of scraps! Teach him to take my 
mustard!" He bounded up out of his chair, grabbing a butter knife. 
"Remember the horseradish!" he shouted as he ran out the door. 


Dr. Mann smiled to himself. Surely now the matter was over. 
"But the matter wasn't solved, was it?" asked Dr. 


"No," said Dr. Mann. "| overestimated Agent Tam's good 
sense. He punched Hatbot several times, called ita 
pansy, and then spat at a researcher on the way out. 
Sadly, none of this disabled it." 


"So your second attempt to neutralize Hatbot failed." 


"Yes. But | didn't realize it until the next attempt on my 
life," said Dr. Mann. 


Dr. Mann slept the sleep of the just, or at least the sleep of the 
oblivious. He was finally safe thanks to Agent Tam. 


He shot up when he heard someone moving about in the laboratory. 
An intruder! But it was impossible. Surely Agent Tam had destroyed 
Hatbot. 


He got up, grabbing the auto-scalpel as he did so. He carefully 
opened the door, turning on the light. 


There was a man standing in the middle of the laboratory. His 
shoulders were hunched. For some reason, he was wearing a metal 
gauntlet. 


aver Ill 


ave Ill ) 


"Hello?" Dr. Mann said, tremulousl¥. "I'm afraid I'm buby, but if you'd 
care to come back in the morning. 4 


nvro 


The man gave a deep growl, apices into a chucle-and thena 
scream. "He comes!" he said. "Betfind... He's waiting. I=. 1... Stop. 
No. He knows of the oré6r. Ber ‘eff of chaos, it.. LEE IS CoOmiNG. : 


The man's eyes were leaking a blatk substance, aimgst as though 
he were infected with SCP-679, but much more viscous. 


"What? Who's-coming? What's wrong with your voice?" Dr. Mann 
asked, reachingfor the auto-scalpel. 

"FAO eae the man screamed with sounds that should never 
issue ffm @ human throat, and the gauntlet changed shape to a 
long spike, as though poured into a mold. 


"I still don't understand how it managed it," said Dr. 
Mann. "| understand it used __, but I'm not quite sure how 
it moved it to my laboratory, let alone with a test subject. 
How did it keep from alerting anyone?" 


"We're still working out how it managed to take control of 
the maintenance worker. However, once it had managed 
that, it was able to give him an artificially high clearance. 
He took from containment, took it to your laboratory, 
and put it on." 


"Diabolical," said Dr. Mann. 
"What did you do then?" asked the psychologist. 


"Well, once | dispatched the subject with , | knew | had 
to find a way to destroy Hatbot once and for all." 


Dr. Mann stormed up to the server room. "Dr. Valence!" he shouted. 
"| must have a word with you, Dr. Valence!" 


The scientist opened his door. "Yes, Mann? What's the problem?" 


"Your mechanical Machiavelli is trying to kill me!" Dr. Mann said, 
grabbing Dr. Valence by the collar. 


"Let go of me, you maniac!" Dr. Valence said. "That's ridiculous! 
Hatbot is perfectly safe." 


"You should pants fetchingly in the morning," said Hatbot, from 
behind Dr. Valence. "Every midnight in England. Are you human?" 


"lam not a crazy! | am perfectly normal! The machine is trying to 
end my life!" Dr. Mann let go of Dr. Valence, and gestured toward 
the server room. "| have suffered no less than four attempts on my 


life thus far! | will not suffer another! Hatbot must be destroyed!" 


"Are you crazy?" asked Dr. Valence. "Do you know how much he 
cost? You can't possibly expect me to let that work go down the 
drain." 


"But it tried to kill me," Dr. Mann said. "Why won't you believe me? It 
has to be destroyed!" 


"You need to sit for the camera, and die possibly," said Hatbot. 
"See? See? It just threatened my life again!" howled Dr. Mann. 


"| think you've been working too hard," said Dr. Valence. "You 
should go back to wherever it is you hole up at night and get some 
sleep." 


"| don't need sleep! | need Hatbot's destruction! Hatbot delendo est!" 
screamed Dr. Mann. 


"Guards!" Dr. Valence shouted. "Restrain Dr. Mann and escort him 
back to his office. Make sure he doesn't go anywhere near the 
server room." 


"But you can't do this! Don't you understand? Hatbot is a menace! A 
menace, | tell you!" Dr. Mann's screaming became more frantic as 
two guards grabbed him by the arms and started pulling him away. 
"You think he's harmless, but he's going to kill me!" 


The guards paid him no heed as they dragged him down the 
hallway. 


"So, your first attempt at direct confrontation failed," said 
Dr. . "What did you do next?" 


"Well, you have to understand, | was fairly desperate by 
this point." 


Dr. Mann wandered the halls disconsolately. Anytime he 
approached the server room, he was turned away, or escorted 
politely but firmly back to his office. No one would believe him about 
the danger. Didn't they understand that this was a matter of life and 


length of wire. He then forced entry into a nearby office building and 
made his way to the roof, then began firing indiscriminately at the 
people beneath him and at those in adjacent buildings. Casualties 
were not given a definite figure but are estimated to be at least 
Police soon responded, but Mr. managed to incapacitate or kill 
seven officers on the ground before they made any significant 
progress. When a police helicopter arrived, - having tied one 
end of the wire around his ankles and the other to a small fan 
attached to the roof - jumped from the building, most likely under the 
assumption that the wire would act as a bungee cord. It instead 
severed his feet; vital signs were confirmed absent upon landing. 
SCP-960 was recovered by the Foundation from the sewers 
beneath soon afterward. 


More recent experiments have not had the detrimental effects of 
SCP-960 set in so quickly or so vehemently; research should be 
directed at understanding why Mr. was such an anomalous 
case. 


« SCP-959 | SCP-960 | SCP-961 » 


death? 


He had near given up hope when he heard someone mutter, "God, | 
hate Hatbot." 


He looked up to see the secretary, Break. "Excuse me," he said. 
"Could you repeat that?" 


She looked at him levelly, and in a slow, even voice, she said, "I. 
Hate. Hatbot. Do you have a problem with that?" 


"No! | hate Hatbot too!" he said, excited. "It keeps trying to kill me." 
"Oh, you're the one they've been talking about," said Break. 
"But you believe me, don't you?" asked Dr. Mann. 


"No," she said. "Hatbot's just a machine. It can barely form coherent 
sentences. I'm pretty sure it's not trying to kill you." 


"But you said you hated Hatbot," Dr. Mann said, desperately. 


"Yes, because it's annoying, not because it's homicidal. All anyone 
talks about is Hatbot. They keep walking by my desk repeating 
everything it says. | swear, if | hear 'Fuck trees' one more time..." 
She glared down the hall towards the server room. "Plus, when | 
went in there, it kept asking me for nude pictures." 


"Well, if it's that big a problem," said Dr. Mann, "why don't you deal 
with it? Take direct action! Destroy Hatbot!" 


Break thought about this for a moment, and then shook her head. 
"No, I'd have to get up from my desk. I've got way too much work to 
do." 


"But what about when they start bringing Hatbot here?" he asked. 


The pencil in her fingers broke. "Here?" she asked, a dangerous 
gleam in her eyes. 


"Yes. They're going to start taking it on walks around the facility. It 
can do its job just as well from anywhere on site." Dr. Mann had no 


idea if this were true, but it sounded plausible. 


Break's eyes narrowed. "Wait here," she said, taking a handgun 
from her desk. "I'll be right back." 


Dr. Mann smiled broadly as she stormed off down the hall. She 
seemed much more capable than Agent Tam. Surely she would 
have the problem dealt with swiftly. 


"And that's when all hell broke loose," said Dr. 


"Yes. It seems that Hatbot's power had become stronger 
by this point." 


Dr. Mann knew something was wrong when he heard the screams 
and smelled the smoke. Surely Break hadn't accomplished all of that 
with just one handgun. 


A man stumbled out of the hallway. His eyes were dripping with the 
same blackness that had issued from the subject of 047. More was 
dripping from his mouth. He turned to Dr. Mann. "His is coming. | 
must... | must kill Mann." 


"Kill Magi?" Dr. Mann said, horrified. "But I'm Dr. Mann!" 


mas 


"HaiZalag the man said, lifting a sidearm. 


Dr. Marin didn’ t wait any longer. He dodged down a hall as a bullet 
burrowed into the wall. He ran until he found a utility closet. 


He breathed a sigh of relief, until he noticed he was not alone. It was 
a Class-D holding his face in his hands. 


"Excuse me," Dr. Mann said. "Look, I'm hiding here too. Perhaps we 
can figure out what's happening and stop it. Your status could be 
changed if you help the Foundation." 


The man looked up, and Dr. Mann saw that his face was gone, 
replaced by a dark hole. Stars could be seen shining in the black. A 
scraping, slurping sound could be heard, as though from a great 
distance. 


Dr. Mann started to scream, and then decided that wasted valuable 
breath that could be more profitably used fleeing. 


He ran back to his laboratory by a very roundabout route, changing 
his path whenever he heard footsteps. When he arrived, there was 
no one inside. He locked the door with a quiet sob of relief. 


He tried to figure out what he should do. This had to be Hatbot's 
doing. Someone had to stop it. But how? 


He could only think of one answer. 


"So, this was the point you decided to take on Hatbot 
yourself?" asked Dr. 


"Yes," said Dr. Mann. "| realized why it was afraid of me. 
It knew | was the only one in the Foundation who was 
immune to its effect." 


"Why do you suppose that was?" asked the psychologist. 


"Well, | can only theorize, but... Have you ever noticed 
that the Foundation staff are a bit... eccentric?" he 
asked. 


"...Yes," said the psychologist. "It's been noted." 


"Well, | think that Hatbot could only influence certain 
kinds of minds. It had to be able to create some sort of 
link. Clearly, | was immune because I'm so normal." 


The psychologist coughed. "Yes. Normal. Anyway, you 
left your laboratory. What did you do next?" 


"Next, | fought Hatbot." 


Dr. Mann walked down the hallways. He had encountered the 
minions of Hatbot several times, mostly guards and D-Class 
personnel. He had dispatched them as quietly as he could, but had 
still ended up running several times as he drew the attention of 
others. It was slow, but he finally reached the server room. 


Things were worst here. The metal of the walls was moving like 
flesh with worms crawling underneath it. He saw what might have 
been men, groaning little inhumanities of black fluid and running 
flesh, twitching and shuffling along the floor. 


He moved aside them, and walked into the room itself. 


There were spiderweb cracks in the air, and the angles were all 
wrong. It hurt his eyes to see. And where was Hatbot? 


The first blow nearly took him off his feet, dnd the’seconé : staggered 
him. "You should not be here. You need to ), be reset every 24 Hpurs 
in England!" 


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"Hatbot!" Dr. Mann cried out. "I'm herg to destroy you. 


ve 


"The raster comes to ging the sono ends the worl Hatbot 
said. Itsvoice was diffegent now. It hag lost its electronic} 

synthesized quality, and had picked up strange harmonigs that hurt 
Dr. Mant’ s head. "It's aKeautiful nig? ht in England. Hail : ini : 


"Stop it,’ i ; Dr. Mann said. "this must eri. It's madness!" 


Ine 


nee a 


"Such aheautitu song. Fil'¢k tiées, | KILL MANN. KILL MANN KiEL 


NTANNI": sHatbot charged at Dr. Mann, swinging its shining ‘plastic 
arms. : 


Dr. Mann dodged to the side, keeping a desk between himself and 
Hatbot. He stepped in something that used to work there. He put 
down the auto-scalpel, knowing it would do little good against a 
machine. Instead, he pulled his secret weapon from his bag. 


"Why do you even have a cricket bat in your office?" 
asked Dr. 


"In case of 008 breakouts, of course," said Dr. Mann. 
"Of course. Continue."