Alan grabbed on and downed it. He looked around, the 
man was collecting. He was collecting to survive. 
Flashlights, batteries, bullets. "Where did you get it all?" 


The man plopped onto the couch and opened a water for 
himself. "Instead of answering that question lets focus on 
getting you out. Yeah?" 


"Sure." Alan put his empty bottle back on the table. 


"You gotta." The man makes a gun with his fingers. "Off 
yerself.” 


Alan blinked a few times. "What? Why?" 


The man took another swig. "You're stuck in a timeloop. 

And to answer a previous question, yes, | think | am you. 
And | think you are me. Come to think of it, it might have 
been another you that asked me that. | can't keep track." 


"But won't I... ya know... die?” 


"Nah. You'll just reset back into your own timeline. We 
aren't in any timeline. We're somewhere in between... 
stuck... | think. The Foundation pricks don't really know 
how it works. | don't know how it works. It just is. And | 
stay behind to help all the other me get back so we can 
have a future.” 


"What happens when you die?" 


"Hopefully | convince me to stay behind and continue 
doing this... like when | convinced myself before. Now 
here we are talking to you. Or... something like that. You 
get it, man." 


He sipped the last bit of water out of the bottle. "Only two 
ways outta here. Die by your own hand, or slowly by 
time. Every other way is just another fucking loop." 


Alan gripped the hand gun and turns the safety off. 
"You're sure?" 


«Static» 


"Yeah. Trust me. | don't have any reason to lie to myself. 
Just make it count on the outside." 


Alan nodded and looked back at the gun. Then looked 
up at the man. 


Kill yourself. (3.1) 
Kill the man. (3.2) 


> Open 2.7 
"No. I'm don't think | should be going anywhere." 


The man looked at his watches again. "Look. | don't got 
time. It's now or—" 


"| said no. | gotta figure this out first." 


Pounding the door frame in frustration now, the man's 
temper began to boil. "Five seconds. Want me to pull you 
through the fucking door? | have before." The man 
rushed up to Alan and grabbed him by the collar. "We're 
leaving! We have to. Whether you like it or not." 


Kill the man. (3.2) 
Call for help. (3.3) 
Run into another room. (3.4) 


> Open 2.8 


Alan jumped through the door. It was the same. Exactly 
the same as where he just was. Even the dust was the 
same. Then he heard a voice. "Alan! You made it." Alan 
walked into the living room to find himself sitting on the 
couch. 


"Alan?" 


"Alan." 


"Be glad | got you away form that other guy. He's the 
whole reason why everything is fucked the way it is." 


Alan sat down in front of himself. He looked at the other 

radio on the coffee table. "That one still have juice?" The 
other Alan smiled and keyed up the radio. «D-3454, you 

copy?» 


Alan's radio repeated the message. Even though the 
voice was staticy, it was clear that he himself was the 
voice. "What? It was you this whole time? When did you 
get here?" 


"Yesterday | think? The other guy found me. Figured out 
what he was doing and why he was doing it." 


"What's he doing?" 


The other Alan brushed off the dust on his shoulder. 
"You don't want to know right now. But since you're here, 
you can start to take over." 


Alan shook his head. "Take over? Take over what?" 


Other Alan chuckled a little bit. "It's funny to hear my 
words again— No. You take over my spot and | head 
out. Even you being here means that lines are starting to 
close all over. That's good for us but bad for him. That's 
how it works | think." 


Alan took a breath. "Take over? Lines closing? Stop 
sending me in circles. I'm in a fucking nightmare here! 
JUST TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!" 


Other Alan just nodded his head. "You may think this is 
the right time to know all that, but it's not. And in about-" 
He looked down at his watches. "-half a minute, the other 
guy is gonna burst in here. You wanna be here when 
that happens?" 


"No." 
"Then let's get going then. We got a lead." 


Other Alan grabbed a gun and clip and headed for a 
door. The back door. "This might get a little weird." He 
opened it and stepped through. Alan followed behind 
him. 


Continue. (3.5) 

> Open 3.1 

Alan pressed the gun to his temple. 

"Here | go." 

He clenched his teeth and counted to three. 


"One.... Two... Three." That three seemed to hang in the 
air forever until finally his finger squeezed hard enough 
on the trigger. 


POP 


"He's not coming back is he?" The researcher turned the 
recording equipment off. "That's an asset loss then." 


The director looked down at his clipboard with cold eyes 
as he scanned the incident report. "I think we're done 
here at least. We're not getting anywhere." He put the 
clipboard back into his briefcase and packed up. "We'll 
seal off this quadrant to personnel for now. Keep the 
camera rolling just in case. We'll monitor it from the 
security station." 


The senior researcher nodded and packed up as well. In 
a small notepad he marked down some notes for later 
use. 


D-3454: remove asset from spreadsheet 


order more handheld radios 

seal off Cell-67, video feed to be patched to 
security station 

put out recovery order for missing object 


milk 

sliced ham 

eggs 

coffee 

cheddar cheese 
tomatoes 

ice cream 

b-day present, daughter 


END? 


> Open 3.2 


Suddenly they both locked together into struggle, but that 
was quickly interrupted with a single gun shot. 


POP 


For a split second, Alan was unsure who was shot. After 
what seemed like unnecessary waiting, was ended when 
the man slumped down to his knees clutching his side. 
The gun in Alan's hand went off two more times, ending 
the man. 


Alan dropped the gun. He looked at the door. Briefly he 
thought about going through, but what good would any of 
that do now. Looking back at the floor, Alan stepped 
back in shock. The body disappeared. 


"Whoa! The fu—" 


Another body was flung from the door to Alan's feet. It 
groaned and spoke. "Motherfucker. Can you stop killing 
me? Doesn't get any easier you know." It was the man 
he just killed. As he stood, Alan didn't even have to think 
about it. He wound up for a punch. 


Continue. (3.4) 
> Open 3.3 


Alan didn't wait to reason with him. He punched the man 
right in the solar plexus. 


"OH! (wheeze) ...shit..." The man dropped to his knees 
to catch his breath. Alan ran around the couch and 
keyed up the radio. "Hey! Is anyone still there?" 


«(static) I'm here. What's happening?» 
"| hit him. The other guy. I— | don't know what to do." 


«There's a back door. You need to go through it. Can 
you see it?» 


The other guys braced himself up onto an end table. 
"DON'T! YOU CAN'T LEAVE THIS PLACE!" 


Alan looked behind him. Sure enough the faint outline of 
a door was present in the far darkness. "I see it." 


«He's not able to move through it. Make your way over 
there. I'll meet you.» 


Alan started to run for it. "Who are you?" No answer. As 
he pulled it open and stepped through, the other man 
was stumbling towards him up until the door shut behind 
Alan. 


Continue. (3.5) 
> Open 3.4 


Alan didn't wait to reason with him. He punched the man 
right in the solar plexus. 


"OH! (wheeze) ...shit..." The man dropped to his knees 
to catch his breath. Alan ran around the corner, in what 
looked like a bedroom. Maybe there was a window. 


Maybe there was a vent. Maybe there was a golf club in 
the closet. In his panic, he grabbed the first thing that 
looked like a weapon. It might have been a baseball bat, 
it was too dark for Alan to tell. He fumbled for a light to 
see better. 


click 


Splayed all over the room were skeleton corpses. The 
bed stained a dark red with old blood. Orange sets of 
clothes folded neatly in the corner. Drying meat hanging 
from the ceiling fan. An arrangement of kitchen knives 
placed neatly on the pillow. This wasn't a murder scene 
but more of a serial killer workshop. It was so methodical 
and horrific that Ed Gein could have been in the corner 
taking notes. "Ah! AAHHH! FUCK!" 


"GET OUT OF THERE!" 
"What the fuck! The fuck you do to these people!?!" 


Alan reared back out of the room ready to swing... which 
was now revealed to be a femur. He dropped it in 
disgust. 


"People?" The man rose back up and pointed a gun 
straight at Alan. "A man's gotta eat. Don't count if it's 
your own flesh. Same as biting your fingernails.” 


"You're such a motherfucker." 


The man shrugged. "Takes one to know one. So again... 
this isn't working. | ate recently, so | can wait. Third 
time's a charm? Or is this the fifth?" He then shot Alan in 
the head. 


POP 
Click to start over. () 


> Open 3.5 


Alan entered in through the door, or rather fe// into the 
empty space. "Ah— AAAAHHHI" He tumbled ass over 
head in zero gravity. "Fuck! FUUUUCK'" He tried to look 
back at the door he just left as it started to drift away. 


«Alan? Hey, just relax.» 


Alan nearly lost the grip on his radio as he tried to press 
it against his face. Slowly but surely he seemed to stop 
spinning "Where the hell am |? Where the fuck are you?" 


«We're kinda in the same place now. We're in the same 
body but in different timelines. Finally parallel, right? | am 
you and you are me now.» 


Alan jerked his head in defeat. He'll never understand 
this situation he thought. Maybe he should just stop 
trying in general. 


"Keep explaining." 


«The other guy is us. He wants to keep making more 
timelines so he can eat to survive.» 


"Eat?" 
«Other Alans.» 
"That's... fucked up. And what about that house?" 


«You never recognize it. It's the trailer where Diane died. 
Remember?» 


Alan never put more than two seconds of thought into it, 
but it did seem eerily familiar. His memories of that blurry 
night came rushing fast and hard as he tried to focus. His 
girlfriend. That's the last person he wanted to see ina 
place like this. The way things are going, he couldn't 
really rule that out. 


«Don't ask me why it looks this way. It just does.» 


"So where are we really?" 

«lf | didn't explain already. We're not anywhere. We're 
stuck in some kind of loop. But we can tweak things to 
get back on track.» 


"So what now?" 


«Well... right now we're coming up onto some lights 
here, right?» 


Alan looked in all directions until he spotted two orbs of 
sparking electrical light closing in. "Yeah?" 


«I'm going in that one, on your— well our left. You go in 
the other one and help the next Alan.» 


"What happens if | don't go in either?" 


«Likely... you'd float on until you die | guess. | don't 
know.» 


Alan had to decide. 
Left. (3.6) 

Right. (3.7) 
Neither. (3.8) 

> Open 3.6 


"I'm..." Alan cut off his own words as he made his 
choice. He was going to be the one to get out first. Fuck 
that other guy. 


«Alan?» 
Alan ignored his radio as he paddled toward the light. 


«Alan? Hey. Wait. You can't do it that way. You'll fuck 
the timeline again.» 


He didn't care. He figured this was not his first rodeo. 


Recovery Log: SCP-808 is located within an abandoned factory in 

: , France. An Agent embedded as a local city worker 
heard rumours of a constant “screech” in the local countryside, and 
called in a small investigation. Upon discovery of SCP-808 within its 
structure, the four present Agents were assaulted by a group of 
civilians, killed by Agents in self-defense. 


Investigation of the structure revealed a sect dedicated to the 
Church of the Broken God. associated members of the sect were 
captured and taken into Foundation custody. Documents and 
paraphernalia retrieved from civilian residences revealed that 
SCP-808 had been under construction for approximately seven 
months, and remains unfinished after being acquired by the 
Foundation. Documentation reveals that SCP-808 was intended to 
be a musician of sorts, in preparation for the eventual return of the 
"Broken God". 


Associated civilians have since been terminated under the guise of 
an attack by a mundane terrorist cell. Security for [LOCATION 
REDACTED] has since been increased. 


Addendum - Note from Dr. Bridge 

Judging by the main structure, I'd say that it was 
intended to be mobile. It has bits that look like the 
beginnings of legs... wheels as well. 


It's quite concerning that something the size of SCP-808 
has been built outside our knowledge. However, | find it 
even more disturbing that a cult of the Broken God grew 
this large without alerting the Foundation. In light of this 
recent growth, | recommend increasing surveillance on 
known Church activities. 


« SCP-807 | SCP-808 | SCP-809 » 


Who knows how many times he's been here. If he's 
stuck in a loop. If he's lying to himself. Either way, he 
wasn't going to be a sucker. He touched the light with his 
finger tips. 


"Wait! There." The researcher adjusted the recording 
equipment. "Another one." 


The director looked down at her clipboard with cold eyes 
as she scanned the security breach report. "Extract him 
and put it into another holding cell until we can figure this 
out. Can we debrief this one you think?" 


The researcher shook his head. "Don't know what good 
that would do if he's like all the others. Can't remember a 
damn thing and all claim to be the same." 


"Damn. We're not getting anywhere this way." She put 
the clipboard back into her briefcase and packed up. 
"We'll keep this quadrant off limits for now. Keep security 
teams on standby if anymore come through and keep the 
camera rolling. | have to report on the status of our 
little... incident." 


The director swiped her badge across the electronic door 
lock and left the young researcher to mop up. In the 
elevator, the director flipped through the security footage 
from yesterday on her phone. Obviously there's a lack of 
security detail and post-screening during testing with 
Safe-class artifacts. "What were you planning, Alan?" 
She asked herself. 


END? 


> Open 3.7 


"Fine. I'll make it for the right then." Alan paddled off to 
the right. "What happens to you?" 


«Me? | was told that when it's my turn that I'll be free. 


You remember why we're doing this right?» 


Alan searched his memory a little. Too much has 
happened in the loop, but he did remember an objective. 


«That's right. You barely remember anything and I'm 
supposed to tell you. Yeah. This is a jail break of sorts.» 


Alan nodded as his memory was jostled. "Yeah. | 
remember stealing that thing from the test chamber. So 
we figured out how it worked, huh?" 


«Kinda.» The light was within reaching distance. «See 
you on the other side.» Alan was about to touch the light 
as well when something in the darkness grabbed him. 
"Gah!" 


A mummified arm drifted into Alan as it wrapped around 
his body. The sunken eyes, over shadowed with the 
large exit wound along the side of the head was a sure 
indicator that it was in fact dead. The panic was enough 
to put him into a tumble again, over and under until Alan 
could regain a little control. The corpse now barely 
hanging on by Alan's shoe, which was about to come 
loose. He was starting drift out. 


Push. (3.8) 
Reach. (3.9) 


> Open 3.8 


Alan pushed away. It was enough to make him drift in 
the wrong direction. Out of reach from anything now. As 
he watched the lights fly away in the distance he 
wondered about what would happen next. The blackness 
seemed infinite. All around he thought he could hear 
echoes. What they were saying was another matter. It all 
seemed muffled. Alan continued to hang in that 
blackness. 


5 days later. 


Alan's parched lips and sore joints kept him in a rigor 
mortis state. His skin wrinkled like a plastic bag as it 
cried for hydration. The last two days, he didn't even 
open his eyes. He was going to die like this. He knew it. 
It was a slow death.