"Now, Jim," Jeremy said, a finger raised, "you know as well as | do 
that the old trinkets of yesterday just aren't in as demand with my 
clients as they used to be. | just couldn't pay you as much for those 
as | could in the old days." 


Braddock winced. He couldn't afford to take a cut in payment. Not at 
this point. Not with his debts. "Right. Right." 


"Hey, you're a pro, Jim. I'm sure you can handle just about anything, 
right?" Jeremy gave him one of those brilliant smiles. 


"Right," Braddock said, his confidence returning. There were times 
he almost felt like a secret agent, going undercover. Just call him 
005. 


"Here's your payment. | think you'll find it's more than sufficient." 
Jeremy handed him the customary envelope. 


Braddock didn't bother opening it. Jeremy had never once failed to 
pay him enough once satisfied. Not in the entire time Braddock had 
known him. 


They shook hands, and Braddock hurried out. There was just time to 
place a bet. 


Braddock walked into the club, escorted by a frightened young 
woman with mousy brown hair. He cooed reassuring words to her, 
and she calmed down. Certainly, these days Braddock presented a 
rather harmless front, with his balding pate and prematurely lined 
face. Not even forty, and he was already starting to look old. He'd 
always hoped he'd age gracefully, like his father. No such luck. 


Ah well. No use griping about the inevitable. "Right this way, my 
dear," he said, in a fatherly tone. 


"Ah, Jim, there you are. And who's this enchanting specimen?" 


Jeremy asked. 


"This is Renee," Braddock said. "She's the girl | told you about." 
Renee was an amazing discovery. By chance, he'd found the order 
for her capture, and managed to find her before the MTF did. It had 
been a risk, but Jeremy had been so blasted picky these days. 


He didn't seem disappointed today, however. "Enchanté," he said, 
bowing gallantly, taking her hand lightly. 


Renee blushed, and smiled shyly. She looked more relaxed than 
she'd been since Braddock had found her the day before. "Thank 
you," she said softly. 


"Renee has a special gift," Braddock said. "She can regenerate 
parts of herself. Quite quickly, too, I'm given to understand.” That 
was an understatement. In the incident that had brought her to the 
Foundation's attention, she'd lost her arm in a car accident. It had 
grown back by the time they got her to the hospital. The official story 
was that the paramedics had simply made a mistake, but Braddock 
knew better. He'd even been able to experiment a little, with Renee's 
permission. Just a few tests, with full anesthesia. 


"Oh, Mr. Carter's going to love you," Jeremy said. He turned back to 
Braddock. "And here you go, Jim. Come back in a week. | think 
you've earned a bonus." 


"What's going on, Doctor?" Renee asked, suddenly suspicious. 


"Just a little business between us," Jeremy said smoothly. "Nothing 
to worry about." He stood, and held out his arm to her. "Why don't 
we just go arrange transportation for you? Jim, order whatever you 
like, and put it on my tab. I'll see you next week." 


Braddock nodded as he watched them leave. He felt a little... 
troubled by the affair. He'd given them plenty of objects in the past 
fifteen years, some of them almost alive, but this was the first time 
he'd ever sold a person. 


Well, she was better off in their hands than in the Foundation's. 
Probably. Anyway, what was he supposed to do? His funds were 


going dry. He just needed a little more, so he could make that big 
win... 


Braddock stumbled into the club, wheezing for breath. He cursed his 
body, letting itself become so old, so young. "Jeremy! Where are 
you?" 


The club was deserted. The lights were turned off, the decor 
removed. Even the furniture was gone. All except for one familiar 
table. Jeremy seemed to be the sole occupant of the building. "What 
can | do for you?" he asked politely. 


"They know!" Braddock said, miserably. "| don't know how, but they 
found out!" 


"| was afraid something like this would happen," Jeremy said. He 
was as smooth as ever, but there was something... distant about 
him. "You shouldn't have tried siphoning that money from their 
accounts." 


Braddock did a double take. "How did you know about that?" 


"We've watched your finances for a long time, Jim. How do you think 
we found you?" he asked. "Knew about your debts? When we saw 
all that money appear in your account, well, it had to come from 
somewhere. Where else could you have gotten it?” 


"What am | going to do?" Braddock asked. "Jeremy, you've got to 
help me." 


Jeremy sighed, and placed a hand on Braddock's shoulder. 
However, rather than reassure, it simply pushed him down. He felt 
the strength leave his legs, and he collapsed to his knees. "I'm afraid 
not, Jim. You've become a liability to us. You're just no use to us 
now. At this point, you're just a loose end. I'll leave it to your friends 
to clean you up. I'm sure you gave them a nice, clear trail to follow." 


"Jeremy! You can't do this," Braddock whimpered, unable to rise. 
"Jeremy!" 


"Sorry, Jim. But hey, thanks for your time." He turned away, paused, 


with the player, and continues to assist the player with each fight. If 
the game is beaten using SCP-951, the cutscene at the end 
detailing the fates of each of the characters plays as normal, 
however the scene detailing the fate of "Hirago" is replaced with 
SCP-951, and says "LUCAS made a new friend, and will always 
cherish the time they had playing together. Thank you for knowing 
me." Starting a new game after completing a game and performing 
the glitch will result in the new instance of SCP-951 having no 
memory of the player or any conversations it may have had. 


Addendum: The following is a sample of discussion concerning 
SCP-951-1 and SCP-951 for Foundation intelligence agents to use 
as a guide on how to handle discussions concerning SCP-951 (In 
this instance, the user Anonymoose is the Foundation agent): 


Show log 


Lizalfos , 9:40 

Hey, has anyone played Pauper Rise of the 
Monster King? | found it at a garage sale 
recently and so far it's pretty cool. Anyway, the 
reason | bring it up is because | found a pretty 
awesome glitch monster that kind of breaks 
the game and | was wondering if anyone else 
found it. 


ReGGie , 9:42 
@Lizalfos, are you talking about lucas? lucas 
is fucking bro tier 


Wetualo , 9:45 

LUCAS is definitey up there with shit like 
Missingno, although | didn't care much for the 
way he fucked with my screen. 


Lizalfos , 9:51 
Oh shit, is Lucas going to fuck with my save? 
Like what Missingno. does with Pokemon? 


Wetualo , 9:54 
Missingno doesn't fuck up your file, that was 


and turned back. "Oh, and Jim? It's Mister Marshall. Good day." 


Headache 


It was the end of the fucking world and MTF-Sigma-66 were doing 
what they always did: getting themselves killed. 


"So to be clear, this place is going to be toe to tits in guards, 
covered in goddamn traps, and might not actually have anything in 
it?" Dominic Alvares pulled on his tac suit gingerly, careful to avoid 
brushing against the stump of his right arm. 


Under a chorus of groans from the two other veterans of the group, 
their newest member piped up with nervous optimism. 


"Well, you know, this time we know there's a good reason for it, 
right?" said Charles Bouche, their own pet anartist. "The world is 
going to shit, and we might be helping out." Bouche shrugged as if 
to acknowledge the naivete of his words. This didn't save him from 
Aries’ disdain, though, nor the boot she expertly pelted across the 
locker room to hit him in the ear. 


"Shut the fuck up, Douche." she growled, stalking over to snatch the 
boot back up. "We don't help shit. Haven't you been listening to 
anything people have been saying the last few weeks? They're 
sending everyone everywhere. We're just following one more 
thread." 


Bouche, for his part, didn't say a word, avoiding looking at any part 
of Aries. The blood witch always cut an imposing figure, of course, 
but Dominic reckoned the avoidance may have had more to do with 
the fact that Aries had abandoned changing midway through pulling 
on a sports bra to berate him. Ah, well, the kid would grow used to 
that in time, if he survived long enough. 


Fenton, their fourth member, put a hand on Aries’ shoulder, 
wordlessly nudging her away from the kid. She shrugged him off and 
returned to her pile of gear. Unlike the others, Aries worked light, 
foregoing the protective tac vests the other wore for basic 


underclothes and a large many-pocketed jacket, revealing cuts and 
bruises covering every part of her body, from her shaggy legs to her 
shaved scalp. Dominic's lip curled slightly as he took in her face. 


Almost a year ago now, Dominic had been pulled out of a torturous 
limbo by Aries and Fenton, on orders from their new handler, Alesha 
Willow. Their o/d handler, well, that was the face he took in now. 
Aries had possessed the woman he'd once known as Via Davis at 
some point in the time he'd been stuck in his cold hell, and nobody 
would tell him anything more about it. Fenton claimed it was before 
his induction to the MTF, and all Aries would ever say was they'd 
had 'a disagreement at the movies'. 


He didn't know why the face bothered him so much - it's not as if 
he'd liked Davis before, the woman was a power-abusing bitch with 
no regard for the safety of anyone on the team - but a year later he 
still couldn't look at her without feelings of disdain. Across the room, 
Fenton was staring at him quietly behind his ever-present shades, 
sensing his mood. He rubbed a knuckle against his cheekbone and 
brought himself out of it, grabbing some fresh pants. 


Later, when they were all ready, Willow rapped on the door to the 
locker room, entering before any of them could respond. With her 
was a heavily-tattooed Asian woman in maybe her 30s or early 40s, 
her entire left side covered in ugly burn marks. 


"T minus fifteen til you're heading out, guys." said Willow, not even 
looking at them as she scanned a large chipboard clipboard. "Make 
sure you've got all your shit, prepared magic or whatever. Uh, this is 
Dr Way, she'll be joining you for today." 


"Emerald." said the woman, giving a small wave to nobody in 
particular. "Most people call me Emmy." 


"She one of yours?" asked Fenton, eyeing Emmy suspiciously. 


"Yes." said Willow, at the same time Emmy said "Fuck no." Willow 
frowned at Emmy slightly, then turned back to Fenton. 


"She's a contractor of sorts, from Serpent's Hand. She'll be... 
helping you remember anything you forget, | guess." Willow glanced 


at Emmy, shrugging her shoulders subtly. "That about cover it?" 


"I'm affiliated with them, not employed by them." Emmy said firmly. 
"Otherwise | wouldn't be here right now. but yeah, | guess it's fine as 
explanations go." 


There was a short silence as everyone waited for someone else to 
jump in. When nobody did, Willow gestured for Dominic to follow 
her, and asked the remaining members to get Emmy geared up and 
head to the standard assembly point. As the doors closed behind 
Willow and Dominic, Emmy reached into her pocket with her good 
hand and pulled out a crumpled baggie 


"Any of you smoke weed?" she said, flapping the baggie invitingly. 


"Fuck yes" responded all three together. 


"I still think this is bullshit." said Dominic, grimacing as he used his 
fresh new arm to switch gears. Why the hell had Willow neglected to 
mention he'd be getting a goddamn limb replacement in the ten 
minutes before having to drive a heavy vehicle, and how the hell had 
they just stuck it on like he was some broken action figure? He 
pulled slowly up the gravel path that led to their destination, what 
appeared outwardly to be an abandoned "tuna" cannery. 


As Dominic wondered idly what tuna was, Aries groaned from her 
hiding spot at the back of the van. He was pelted in the back of the 
head with a stuffed lion, one of the many children's toys they were 
"delivering" to the covert Marshall Carter and Dark facility they were 
tasked with breaking into. 


"Cut it with the grandma crawl, Alvares" Aries huffed. "Do you have 
any idea how cramped this is? Douche's boots are in my fucking 
face." 


There was a tiny apology from Bouche, quickly followed by a yelp. 
Dominic could only imagine what she'd done to him, as before he 
could ask he saw a lone figure strolling toward the van from the 
factory. The first of the guards, a portly older man with a carefully 
calculated boredom baked into the lines of his face. The 


transparency of the ploy was enough to make Dominic smile with 
genuine enjoyment as he rolled down the window. 


"Hey there!" he called, leaning out to let the man see his face 
clearly. The guard's expression didn't shift an inch. 


"Yer lost, fellas. Nothing here for ye unless you've got the pizza | 
ordered an hour and a goddamn half ago." The man, who's nametag 
read 'Rupert', shone his flashlight into the cab, and Dominic could 
swear he saw a tiny frown as he saw Fenton. Whether it was 
because the man was black or because he was wearing shades at 1 
in the morning escaped Dominic's judgement. How much could you 
really trust someone called Rupert to not be racist? 


"We're here with a delivery for the facility, actually. MC&D trans- 
dimensional whatever, right?" Dominic's vagueness wasn't just an 
affectation - this was practically all he knew about the place they 
were throwing themselves into blindly. "We've got a shipment from 
Wondertainment. Should be on your list?" 


If he'd expected Rupert's expression to change at this, he'd have 
been disappointed. The man's gaze swept over the van, and paused 
as he took in the logo on the side. 


"If yiz are Wondertainment, how come yer logo here says S & C 
Plastics?" 


"Well, uh," Dominic faltered, grasping at straws. "We're 
manufacturers. Plastics. Plastic... toys. We make the plastic toys." 
He smiled wide, hoping to cover the lie with charm he severely 
lacked. 


Rupert was scowling now, maybe, his eyes just a fraction narrower. 
"A manufacturer wi' initials that just happen to spell out SCP?" 
Shit. 


"Yeeessss?" he ventured, but Rupert was already pulling out a 
walkie-talkie. Dominic and Fenton both scrambled to open their 
doors. 


"Boys, we got janitors at the gate. Immediate backup requested, 
code-" The old man was cut off as a streak of red and black barreled 
into him, screeching. 


Aries was atop his shoulders in a second, toppling out of the back of 
the van, Emmy and Bouche falling to the ground as she pounced. 
Her teeth clamped around his throat and she bit down hard, ripping 
a strip of flesh away with a jerk of her head. Dominic skidded to a 
halt three feet away from the two, keeping out of range of the man's 
flailing limbs. Behind him, Fenton lightly jogged up and started 
helping the other two off the ground. 


Aries shoved her hand into the man's mouth to stop him yelling, and 
he bit down immediately. Dominic could hear the crunch of snapping 
bone. Rather than be pertubed by this, Aries seemed to take it as a 
cue, spitting the man's blood on his face and frantically smearing a 
sigil on his cheek and then her own. 


Rupert bucked her off and stumbled back onto his ass as one of 
Aries’ fingers fell out of his mouth. Aries rolled on the gravel and 
scampered up before the man could, then yelled some command 
words, in the kind of magic language Dominic forgot as soon as he 
heard it.