Oh god, were they going to fire him? He had been such a good 
employee all these years, what had he done to get himself laid off? 


He needed this job, he had three kids and a wife, he could barely 
pay for them now, if he got fired... oh god. 


He started imagining the conversation. 


Bob would just walk in, as nonchalant as possible. Probably 
humming a tune. He would take his time sitting down, pretend to sort 
through some papers in his briefcase, trying to pretend that Bill 
wasn't there. Suddenly, he would strike up a conversation, maybe 
flash those white fangs of his. 


"Oh, hey there Bill, how's the family?" 


Bill couldn't let him say that sentence. He needed this job so badly, 
in this market, there was zero hope of getting a new one, especially 
in his line of work. 


Bill sighed, whatever the problem was, it couldn't be good. 


The door to the meeting room started creaking open. Bill looked up 
from his thoughts and tried to see who it was. It was Bob. Bill 
narrowed his eyes, he was ready for any news. 


"Sorry to keep you waiting Bill, but as you can see nobody else is 
going to show up. And | was a bit late, had to lay off some poor 
suckers. | came here to give you some news..." Bob started, pulling 
out a chair close to the door. 


"Out with it man." Bill got through his gritted teeth. 


"Congratulations Bill! You're getting a promotion. Great job all these 
years Bill, you have really shown you have what it takes!" 


Bill's jaw dropped with surprise. "Wh.. What?" 


"You're now the head of Finances!" Bob flashed him his startlingly 
white teeth while extending a hand. 


Bill shook it slowly, slightly dazed, "| don't know what to say." 


"No need, we are going to be moving you to your new office right 
now. So pack your things!" Bob helped Bill out of his seat. 


Bill slowly started to smile, the day was starting to look up, and any 
fears he had before were gone. 


It wasn't having a good day. 


The only things it had been getting all day were stupid mundane 
things, mostly job related, and with new Illumilight system for kids, 
nobody was having any fears about going to bed. 


It was bored out of its mind trying to figure out ways to innovate on 
old ideas. 


There wasn't really anything to be afraid of anymore, in the past 
couple of years, all ideas of monsters or forgotten creatures of yore 
had been dispelled and forgotten. 


It would just have to wait, mankind always forgets why they do 
things, and man always goes back to doing the wrong thing when he 
forgets. It still survived on the fringe of civilization, in the dark 
corners of the world. And if it had learned anything from mankind, it 
was patience. 


And so It waited, biding its time, preparing for the day when we 
forget about it, but until then, It had some employees to scare. 


Interlude - The Faraday Girls 


“Shit shit shit,” said Donna. She was late for school. Stupid alarm 
had gone off an hour late, and now she was going to have to walk. 
“Shit,” she said again as she opened her closet and ruffled through 
the clothes inside. After five minutes she had picked out a short red 
jacket, black tank top, and ripped pair of jeans, but still couldn't find 
the right accessory. “Mom!” she called out. “Have you seen my white 
scarf?” No reply. She had probably already left for work. 


Finally she managed to dig out the scarf and throw it on. She 
glanced at the bedside alarm. 9:45. Add in another 5 minutes for 
breakfast, 15 for makeup, plus 40 to walk to school and... “Shit.” 
Mrs. Tunguska was going to chew her out for sure. 


Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was a message from Tyler- 
“where are you?” 


“overslept,” she tapped out, “be there soon. kisses.” She shoved the 
phone into her pocket and raced down stairs. Ignoring the human 
heart walking around the floor, she poured a bowl of cheerios and 
wolfed it down. Then it was back upstairs for makeup, which took 
longer than she expected. It was 10:15 by the time she was out the 
door. 


It was a beautiful day outside. For the first time all year, there wasn't 
a cloud in the sky, and the sun was out in full force. Still, it was 
pleasantly cool. She pulled her jacket straight and began to walk. 


She arrived a 11:03, halfway through second period. Officer 
Micheals, the armed security guard, was standing at the front gate 
carving symbols into his arm with a hunting knife. “Sorry Don. Gotta 
send you to the front office,” he said without looking up. 


Donna pouted. “Come on. I've already got two tardies.” 


“No exceptions. You know the rules.” 


“Hmph.” She entered the school and turned left to the office. Inside, 
the secretary was arguing heatedly with a man with no face. 


“Fuck you, she's my daughter!” he said. “You have no right to teach 
her that garbage.” 


“Sir, evolution is a required part of the ninth grade curriculum. Now, | 
believe that Principal Mayfield has already talked to you about-” 


“No!” he yelled, “Il demand to talk to the superintendent about this. If 
you don't take her out of that class, I'll sue you for so much you 
won't even be able to afford pencils.” 


“I'm sure you will Sir, but please hold on a second” she said, and 
turned to Donna, “Need a slip?” 


Donna nodded. The secretary began filling out a yellow sheet of 
paper. “This is your third tardy young lady.” 


“Yes ma'am,” said Donna. She stared at the ground. 


“I'll call you down again after lunch.” She handed Donna the slip. 
“Have a good day.” 


Donna raced to class. She arrived just as the teacher, Mr. Stilch, 
was wrapping up a lecture on some book. “Any questions?” he 
asked. 


A girl named Tracy with ugly makeup and and a garish blue 
windbreaker raised her hand. “What satisfaction do you derive from 
this filth? What great thing do you aspire to? Does it please you to 
know this garbage flowed from your fingers?” 


The teacher smiled. “Excellent question. These Bulgars are stand 
ins for the Prussians, not a reference to the seventh century 
nomads.” He turned and saw Donna. “Ah. Donna, nice to see you. 
Take a seat.” 


Donna sat next to her friend Lucy in the back row. The flesh of the 
seat squelched underneath her as she moved to get comfortable. 
She leaned over and whispered, “What are we doing?” 


“The Candide,” Lucy whispered back. “He's about to hand out our 
copies.” 


Donna nodded. “Cool.” 


“Remember,” said Mr. Stilch. He was moving through the rows of 
tables with a stack of books, handing them out as he went. “Bring in 
your own copy by next week and its ten points extra credit.” He got 
to Donna and plopped a book down in front. “Donna, you'll need to 
copy notes from Lucy,” he gave an accusing glare, “If she took any.” 


“Yessir”, said Donna. She examined the cover with boredom as he 
spoke on about some random bullshit she had to read and do and 
turn in. On it, a picture snake squirmed, wrapping itself around a 
man who struggled to get away. The snake opened its mouth and, 
as the man beat against it, swallowed him in one gulp. 


Mr. Stilch finished talking and walked away. “So, did you take 
notes?” asked Donna. 


Lucy snorted. “No. | don't want the purity of my thoughts tainted by 
writing.” 


“Tch. I'll ask Tyler at lunch.” 


“Your words are a filth that spreads to all mankind. Every blight you 
place upon this page only cheapens your species.” 


Donna shook her head. “Nah, he's a good student.” 


They spent the rest of the class reading. Occasionally a locust would 
smack into her face, or a beetle would fall into her hair, but she just 
brushed them away. When the lunch bell rang she grabbed her bag 
of lies and rushed to the front. Mr. Stilch put a hand on her shoulder 
before she could leave. 


“Can we talk for a second?” 
She sighed. “Yes sir?” 


“Humanity was safer in its ignorance. When it crawled in trees and 
bushes there was no need to fear death from above or pox or 


murder. Do you feel comfortable in this place, built by science and 
lies?” 


Ugh. Nosy fuck. “No sir.” 


He folded his arms. Blood poured out of his mouth as he spoke. 
“The downfall of your species was inevitable as soon as the first 
word was inscribed in the earth. Numbers and secrets and 
experiments- they only confuse you, muddle the true thought. Can 
you not see this?” 


“No, I'm fine.” 


He paused. The blood was pooling at his feet. “Alright. Have a good 
lunch.” 


“Right.” She walked out the class. The hallway was filled with 
students, talking, laughing, and reveling in their temporary freedom 
from the captor called knowledge. She pushed her way through a 
group devouring a girl's intestines to where Lucy, Tyler, and James 
were talking. Tyler had sunk into the floor, so everything from the 
waist down was hidden. 


“The page is a shackle on our thought,” he said. Everyone laughed. 
“We must tear it down in order to build.” He turned to face Donna 
and grinned. “Hey, what's up?” 


“Not much.” She leaned down for a kiss. “Mr. Stilch was on my ass 
again.” 


“That sucks,” he said. “What about?” 


“Stupid shit. He wanted to know why I'm so disgusting, so baseless 
and crude.” 


Tyler laughed. “That sounds like him. Wanna grab lunch?” 
“Sure.” 


The four of them walked to the cafeteria, Tyler sliding through the 
floor, pulling himself through the thick substance with his arms. They 
arrived and got their food, steamed hands. Donna got hers, then 


rubbed the stump of her wrist as she held the tray. She watched the 
chef slice off James' and knot a tourniquet around the wrist. The 
group took their food to a table near the stage and ate. 


“It makes me want to vomit,” said James, “these words that form us. 
Think of all the technology that was used to make them. Think of the 
men who slaved away for hours to create the machine to type them 
out. Such wasted potential. And the masses gobble it down. They 
eat their poison and beg for more.” 


“Mhm,” said Diana. She saw the truth in his speech. Only a blind 
man could not. Science, literature, art music. All are poisons upon 
man. A virus (virus. Such a filthy word, and even moreso that 
mankind has taught it to me) that would only destroy them. Look 
how they embrace knowledge! They swarm upon it like maggots. 
They shelter themselves in their metal homes and towers and hope 
it will protect them when the time comes, but it won't, nothing will 
save them then, not science or art or beauty, when the true 
darkness comes and swallows you whole. But | can protect you. | 
can rip this knowledge out of your head and lead you back into the 
safety of ignorance where you'll hide your eyes from the oncoming 
doom. Put down this tome of self-destruction! Fling it from your 
hands. Find all you can and burn them. Burn your knowledge, burn 
your literature, burn the art in museums! Break free from your 
oppressors! Look inside yourself. You know it is your desire. It's your 
one true wish. Can you feel it burning inside you? The desire to 
know nothing. It's a normal desire. You remember how you were as 
a babe. You were happiest naked and ignorant. You know this. You 
feel this. Come back into the dark. 


Be free. 


400,000 copies of Linda Fronze's new Young Adult novel, “The 
Faraday Girls”, were recalled this Saturday after a printing error was 
discovered in chapter 11. Several mothers have complained that 
their girls are now suffering from “nightmares” due to the disturbing 
content, and are filing a class-action lawsuit against the Scholastic 
publishing company. More to follow. 


The New York Times 


The End 


The two figures met each other as they always did, by the sofas. 
Both seemed to flicker, their outlines faded and blurry. As always 
happened, the short one began the speech. 


"Hail, Myala, King of Swords, Soul of Valor, God of the Warrior!" Its 
voice was shaky and indistinct. "May your blessings always fall upon 
us, as the blood of the wicked falls upon your altar! We ask of youa 
portion of your strength so that we might do your work." 


The taller one grew more defined. He was now a four-armed 
creature, each arm holding a separate sword, pitted and dull. Five 
pairs of eyes, which had once been filled with burning fury, were 
now all half-closed. He gave a weary smile through a dull-tusked 
mouth, each of his arms raised in salute to his partner. 


"Hail, Alik, Mistress of Luck, Fickle Hand of Fate, Goddess of Tricks! 
We beseech you upon this day to look favorably upon us. Stay the 
hand of your wrath from our heads, letting it fall instead to our 
enemies. For this, we offer you the first coin made in a game of 
chance!" 


The shorter one gave a sigh as she felt herself tighten into 
existence. Her silken finery was frayed, its once-vibrant colors 
having long since faded into pale imitations. She laughed as she 
adjusted her tarnished crown. 


"Do they still have games of chance?" she asked, her voice now 
clearer. 


Myla sighed. "I don't think so. There's not much left in the way of 
chance any more. | think they just measure out the variables and 
give or take money. If it makes you feel better, the closest I've felt to 
a war was two children slapping each other the other day." 


Alik gave a snort of laughter. "Still, that's better than that cat. | don't 


believe it. | could stay in a place like this for 
the rest of my life. (Subject begins to hum, 
ignoring Dr. 's prompts). [TAPE ENDS]. 
Again. | want to go back there again. No | don't 
want another medical exam, | want that money 
you promised me and | want that tape! 
[RECORDING ENDS] 


« SCP-690 | SCP-691 | SCP-692 » 


think there's been anything for it for at least a century. Where is it, 
anyway?" 


Myla was quiet. His ten eyes all stared at the floor. 
"Oh." 
"Yeah. Now it's just you and me, | suppose." 


"|... | Suppose so." 


"How long do you think we can keep this up?" 
"Just the two of us? | don't think it'll even work with only two." 


"Well, for what it's worth, you were always one of my favorites. | 
can't think of anyone else I'd rather be with at the end." 


The two dead gods embraced one another for the last time. All 
around them, the Library continued its business unabated. 


No one was sure when exactly it happened. 


It didn't happen as it had in the stories countless times before. There 
was no dragon slain, no warlord defeated, not even a demon 
outwitted. There was just a gradual tapering off. Eventually, it just 
wasn't. 


For too many centuries to count, Science and Rationality had been 
dual monarchs of mankind's understanding. Mankind had colonized 
the distant stars, charting each new worlds, encountering new 
species, none intelligent. 


Vast banks of statistics explained the sweep of history far better 
than any of the former romantic theories of Great Men or Common 
Folk. The nature of almost all of the physical world, down to the 
tiniest sub-atomic particle, was explained. Knowledge ran through a 
million worlds, dispelling ignorance bringing the universe together in 
one tight-knit community. 


Parts of the brain associated with harmful groupthink and tribalism 
atrophied, and were eventually removed altogether. 


It had been several centuries since the introduction of the Unified 
Theory of Anomalies. In the ensuing time, the theory had been 
refined to explain the few anomalies that had escaped its initial 
grasp. Tales of explorers became more prosaic, describing new 
potassium deposits and moon sizes. There was no possible 
unknown; Science had explained all. It was no longer a model of 
reality, it was reality, understood perfectly and without fear by every 
single human being. 


In time, the pages of stories withered. The words were all there, but 
there was nothing to support them. They stood on the page, dry and 
lifeless as a hunter's trophy. Interest in pre-understanding 
narratives, never high to begin with, vanished almost entirely.