Kevin was patrolling the fifth floor hallway when he heard the noise. 
It wasn’t unusual to hear yelling - a lot of the apartments were 
section 8, and a lot of the rest were college students, so he'd hear 
all sorts of stuff happening late at night. But this was coming from 
the south stairway, and it didn’t sound like an argument or a party. 
Just loud grunts, and clattering, and a deep voice saying fuck a lot. 
He frowned at his watch. More than five hours left. 


He was still new; if this was serious, it would be his first time. Most 
of the security thought their uniforms made them look badass, but 
he always felt ridiculous in his, and they wouldn’t even let him have 
pepper spray. Whatever, he thought, and pushed the door open. 


Somehow, the first thing he saw was the guy. He was tall, with 
sweatpants and an old T-shirt hanging off his frame. He looked 
exhausted and sweaty. He was wielding a huge stick - no, a spear. 
And then, after noticing that the guy was actually pointing the spear 
at something, only then did he see the tentacles. 


They were as thick as a man’s torso, a cluster of them filling the 
entire stairwell and suggesting more beneath. Unmistakably those of 
an octopus, but far larger (and, he would later realize, far too 
numerous). They wriggled along the walls, floor, and in the air, like 
probing fingertips. Whenever one got too far up onto the landing, the 
guy would slash at them, driving them back; whenever he came 
near the stairs, they tried lazily to snare him, forcing him to dance 
away. It looked like they’d been at it for hours. 


“What are you doing?” Kevin finally managed. 
“Holding... it... back,” the guy spat between spear thrusts. 
A moment passed. 


“What is it?” Kevin tried again. 


“It’s an octopus, man. | don’t know what it wants here, but shit, what 
was | supposed to do? Go back to bed after | saw it?” 


“How long has this been going on?” Kevin took a step back, toward 
the hallway door. 


“Every night for, | don’t know, like five years now. It goes away at 
dawn.” 


“Five years?” 


“Five years. | haven’t—“ he jabbed downward, yanking his foot out 
of reach. “I haven’t really made much progress.” He stepped back, 
tapping the wall with the spear, taking a break as the tentacles 
followed the sound. “I don’t know what it wants,” he whispered, 
conspiratorially, “but we obviously can’t let it happen.” 


Kevin swallowed. “Why us? Why doesn’t anyone else know about 
this?” 


The guy frowned. “I think, mostly, they just use the elevator.” 


Kevin eyed the wandering tentacles. They tried to grab at the guy 
whenever he got too close, but other than that seemed content just 
to poke around. “Where do they go?” he asked. 


“You know, once or twice, | tried to go around the other side and 
come up from underneath,” the guy said. “I went up the stairs to 
where its head should be, and you know what | found?” 


‘WN h—“ 


“More tentacles, my friend. More. Fucking. Tentacles.” The guy 
stepped abruptly into the creature’s path, swinging his spear. It 
recoiled, then sent two arms tumbling in his direction. He grit his 
teeth, raised the spear, and grinned. 


Kevin backed slowly out the door. He looked down at his radio. For 
a moment he stood, considering, but in the end he left it in his belt. 
He resumed his patrol. He still had five hours left. He made a mental 
note: next time he ended up on third shift, he’d stick to the north 
stairs. 


Proceed to next document, SCP-610-L2 


Life Saver 


Disclaimer: 


This is (more or less) a story related to me by a friend a 
few months ago. He's ok now, if that helps. Not sure if it's 
really all that creepy...but it's weird as all hell. 


| was on the roof about two weeks ago, with the full intention of 
ending my life. My girlfriend of three years had broken up with me, 
after cheating on me for six months. What's more, she might have 
given me a STD from that little encounter. | was unemployed, and 
my meager savings was not going to cover much of anything next 
week. And to top it off, most of my friends were not in the area, and 
my immediate family was still rather pissed at me for my decision to 
start work rather then attempt an associates degree. 


So, yes, | was not seeing a lot of good reasons to keep going. | sat 
on the ledge, swinging my feet in to space off the top of my fourteen 
floor apartment building, feeling that giddy, self-destructive tingle in 
my feet that | always get when I'm near a steep drop-off. It was cold, 
and | could see a few cars slipping along the dark streets...oddly, | 
worried for a second | would hit one on the way down, and thereby 
go from tragic suicide to an asshole. | was laughing at how dumb 
that was to worry about when | heard the guy behind me say “The 
hell you doing?” 


| whipped around, kind of wobbling for a second, and saw some big 
guy in a blue suit smoking a cigarette. He had dark hair, was really 
pale...| hadn't seen him on the way up, and didn't really remember 
hearing the door open or shut...then again, my mind was kinda 
elsewhere. He gestured to me, saying “you gonna jump or 
something?” 


“uh...1 mean...yeah, | guess. Are...you like a cop or something?” | 
felt stupid asking, but he had that weird aura of authority | always 
associate with cops. That's all | needed, to get arrested. 


He kinda chuckled, taking a deep drag. “Naw, just up for the view. 
Got nobody to live for, nothing to stick around for?” 


| sighed, and gave him a nutshell of what was going on. It felt 
somewhat good to tell someone, but at the same time it made me 
feel like a even bigger loser. 


He laughed at me. More of a chuckle, but still, it seemed kinda 
misplaced for the situation. He lit a new cigarette off his old one, and 
nodded at me. 


“Ok kiddo, that's pretty bad...but let me make you a deal. You go 
ahead and jump, and you'll get loose of all this. However, as soon 
as | finish my smoke, I'm going to go downstairs and wait for you to 
hit. Before anyone else gets there, I'm going to steal your wallet, and 
I'm going to use your driver's license to look up who you are. I'm 
going to hack in to your social networking stuff, and find everyone 
who you have loved or has ever loved you, and I'm going to hurt 
them for a while, then kill them.” 


| just stared, somehow positive I'd just hallucinated that somehow. | 
didn't even speak, just stared at this psycho. 


“I'm going to kidnap some, and torture them out in the woods for 
hours before | gut them and leave them for the wolves. I'm going to 
shoot others in their cars, letting them roll on in the wreckage as 
they try to figure out why their lungs won't expand anymore. | will 
butcher loved ones, class mates, every friend you've known.” He 
didn't even sound excited while he said this, like he was telling me 
the time. 


“W-what the fuck is wrong with you? You can't....you can't do that, 
you fucking psycho!” | was shaking, and not at ALL from the cold. 
This guy...| mean, | didn't know him from anyone, it was possible...It 
was insane, but this guy had a...weird aura around him. As | 
watched him, | didn't for one second think he was telling a lie. 


“The hell do you care? You're going to be dead. You're opting out of 
giving a shit about the world, you don't get to bitch about what 
happens after you leave.” He just kept staring at me with this blank 
expression. 


| freaked out. | jumped back on the roof and just ran like hell for my 
apartment. | called the cops, saying some guy had been on the roof, 
threatened my life. When they showed up, he was long gone. 
Nobody in the apartment knew him, I'd never seen him before or 
since. | ended up not getting a STD and managed to find a (shitty) 
job at the local grocery store, but | did have to move to a much 
smaller apartment. Still not really over my girlfriend, but it will take 
time. 


| still think about that night, now and then. It was just so incredibly 
odd, | don't think I'll ever really forget it. | have no idea if the guy was 
bullshitting, but | really don't think he was. It looks so dumb on 
paper, but if you could have seen him...heard him...you wouldn't 
really question it either. How sick of a person do you have to be, to 
save them from suicide by threatening them with something so 
horrible they don't dare leave the world unsupervised. Every time | 
see a unsolved, horrific murder on the news, | wonder. 


People ask me what | think happened that night. | tell them | think 
the devil saved my life. 


Love Springs Eternal 


Why, it was love at first sight, darling. You awoke to the early song 
of dawn, and as you rose from the clutches of Morpheus | was there, 
watching you, every dewdrop on the windowpane an eye into your 
world. | was watching as you drank deep in my flesh, through your 
glass vessel | was watching, and | was watching as you bathed in 
my skin, embracing me in your face. | was watching as you let me 
run my fingers across your naked skin, cleansing you, baptising you 
in my scent. And as | watched, | knew you were mine, darling. 


| made the first move, my humid breath caressing you in the 
morning light, lingering by your face and neck. You walked down the 
street, as | leapt from puddles and gathered at your tender feet. My 
hands crept up your body, stroking, moving in delicate rhythms to 
your nervous, quickening breath. You started to run, and for a 
moment | thought you were going to shake me off like the others, 
but | held on, drunk on desire. | wanted you, can't you see, darling? 
And 'want' is such a powerful thing, for both gods and men alike, 
that | continued to caress you as you ran, and more of me leapt out 
of you, and joined in the loving embrace. 


You tore into the woods, as | rose from the fresh grass and slithered 
down from treetops. If only you could stay still to take in my love, but 
you kept running, kept running as | hugged your chest and ran my 
hands over your features. Such an exquisite face, certainly a cut 
above the other mortals, | thought. But of course, that was why | 
chose you, darling. Why did you continue to sourn me, when you 
clearly are not like the rest of them? You did not answer, but kept 
running, and running, as | gathered around you and wove around 
your arms in a dance of fated romance. 


| pooled in your shoes, round your ankles and feet, gathering, rising, 
pleading for you to stop. But you somehow found the strength to 
keep running, and fora moment | was afraid you would keep 
running for ever, escaping me like so many others had did. Would 


you, in your irrational rejection of me, keep running till every last 
drop of me had been expelled from your tender body, running till 
your supple lips shrivelled and deep blue eyes dessicated like 
raisins in the sun, till you lay screaming in the dirt, begging for me to 
leave you alone? | panicked, and lost my hold, briefly slipping off 
your chest before the river joined in, rising in desire with me, 
cuddling your warm, sweet body as you ran, screaming now, out of 
the woods and into the dry, bare plains. 


The midday sun was unforgiving, sending me off your back in wisps 
of vapor before | managed to hold you again. It was a trial of love, 
and | strived to pass it, grabbing you, hugging you in a mad frenzy. 
You collapsed, and briefly | thought you were going to give up the 
chase and surrender your body, and | relaxed, but you started to 
struggle, and threw me off in splashes. | leapt right back on you, 
determined even as more of me lost my hold on you, but the heat 
and your tenacity started to prevail over my rushing desire. Would | 
lose you forever, my darling, in this arid field beneath the unforgiving 
sky? 


Then like an answer to my prayer, the clouds rolled over like a 
smooth satin blanket, and | fell down, in drips and drops, kissing 
your skin, pinning it down, preparing you for my love. And | ran my 
lips over you, licking your flesh lovingly, as you continued to struggle 
beneath the weight of my body. You continued to struggle as | put 
my hands on your head, holding it and smiling into your bewildered 
eyes. You continued to struggle as | rose from the earth and 
wrapped my legs around your hips, and pushed my face ever closer 
to yours. You continued to struggle as | rushed in for true love's first 
kiss, embracing your hair, your eyes, quivering with lustful wanting. 
You continued to struggle as | closed my face upon your nose, and 
put my lips to yours, and then you struggled no more as | fully took 
you into my grasp, cuddling you even as more of me fell gently on 
the soft, cool ground. 


Then you were still, and | forced my way past your lips and into your 
throat, and you were mine at last. 


Meat 


Chinese culture is a strange thing indeed. She found out, the day 
her First came tearing, screaming and mewling out from her womb, 
tiny unformed fingers clawing at her insides. The doctors and nurses 
crowded round, strange and deformed in her pain-fuelled haze, 
babbling things that she could not hear. She remembered 
shuddering, drenched in itching sweat that turned her light-pink 
hospital gown into a shade of carmine red. She let the 
congratulations wash over her, the excited exclamations of her 
husband pulling her from much-needed sleep, needling at her, 
drawing her mind long and tired. She took her turn of clutching the 
baby, cooing softly at it as quickly as she could, before she passed it 
on, swallowing down the rising vomit that clogged her throat, 
attempting to right the spinning room through sheer force of will. 
Then, it was thrown onto her lap. 


Her scream of disgust pierced the sterile operating room, jolting the 
sleeping child into its first wails. She looked up, searching for the 
source of this outrage, and her eyes met two beady pupils staring at 
her, behind a surgical mask. He was a short man, dressed in 
hospital blue, his long fingers steepled together at his waist, his 
eyebrows suggesting a smile hidden behind the white of the cotton 
mask. A long silence dominated the room, broken only by the 
insistent crying of the newborn flesh, and the low hum of the air- 
conditioning. Eyes travelled back down to the red, pulsing mass of 
bloody flesh in her lap, and then back again to the shrivelled doctor 
standing at the foot of her bed. 


-Eat. Is good for you. 
-But... Why is it raw? 
-Just eat! Is good for you, and the baby. 


Ryan just stood there, forced grin frozen on his face. He said 
nothing. He wouldn't. He actually believed in this Chinese nonsense. 
He reached out, a claw swimming through the open space between 


her and him, and grabbed her hand. He squeezed it, once. Her other 
hand shook as it edged towards the battered metal plate, slipped 
slightly in the pooling blood, and finally managed to clasp around the 
oozing organ, picking it up. It squelched in her grasp. Small showers 
of blood dripped from it, slipping from the cracks between her fingers 
and back into the plate, merging with the symphony of expectant 
silence in the operating room. 


It smelled disgusting. Loathsome. It smelled of fresh blood, of rotten 
flesh, of old torn clothes soaked in vinegar. It smelled like fresh fish 
gutted and smashed with a spoon. It took all of her willpower to not 
throw up there and then, to keep the vomit hidden deep within her 
throat, to gulp it down. Eyes were watching. Waiting. She had to do 
it. She had to. For the baby.