SCP - 035 "Possessive Mask"
Object Class - Keter
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The sterile hum of the facility is punctuated by the faint, unsettling whispers that seem to seep from the walls. Dr. Harris and Guard Marcus stand before the sealed chamber housing SCP-035. The glass case is pristine, yet faint streaks of human blood ripple across its surface.
Dr. Harris: (checking his tablet) The readings are spiking again. The walls—it's like they're bleeding anew. We need to reinforce the containment, but I don't think it'll hold much longer.
Marcus: (nervously gripping his rifle) I feel like I'm being watched. Every time I look at that mask, I get this... uneasy feeling. Like it's trying to reach out.
Dr. Harris: That's normal. The whispers are getting worse. The blood patterns on the walls are shifting again. We've never seen them this active.
Suddenly, a faint whisper echoes through the chamber, unintelligible yet filled with malice. The lights flicker.
Marcus: (voice trembling) Did you hear that? It's like the walls are talking.
Dr. Harris: Stay alert. Remember protocol—no contact. We just observe.
As they watch, the blood formations on the wall seem to shift into a pattern resembling a human face, twisted in agony.
Later that day, Dr. Harris approaches the containment chamber alone, clutching a set of translation notes. The whispers have become louder, more insistent.
Dr. Harris: (muttering) The symbols... they're calling out. I need to understand what it's trying to tell us.
He presses his hand against the glass, and immediately, a surge of nausea hits him. His vision blurs, and he hears a voice—deep, commanding.
Voice (Telepathic):You cannot contain me forever. I see your fears. Let me in.
He stumbles back, clutching his head.
Dr. Harris: (shouting) No! Stay away! I won't let you—
Suddenly, the door to the chamber locks with a loud clang. The whispering turns into a cacophony of laughter and screams. The blood on the walls begins to ooze faster, pooling at the base of the glass.
Marcus: (over comms) Doctor! Are you alright? The door's sealed. We're getting an override signal.
Dr. Harris: (voice strained) It's... it's trying to possess me! The mask—it's in my head!
The blood on the walls forms a grotesque diagram resembling a ritualistic sigil, and the whispers crescendo into a deafening roar.
In a secure briefing room, the Foundation's senior staff debate the next steps.
Director Lee: The containment is failing. The blood patterns, the whispers—they're escalating. We're risking more personnel every minute.
Scientist Roberts: We should consider reinstating the host protocol. It might contain its influence, at least temporarily.
Dr. Nguyen: That's dangerous. The last time we tried, it almost escaped. Plus, the reports suggest it can influence minds telepathically, even without a host.
Director Lee: Agreed. We need to quarantine it somewhere new, perhaps with reinforced materials. The current chamber isn't viable anymore.
The room falls silent, the weight of the decision heavy.
Dr. Harris: (via video link) I've seen what this thing can do firsthand. We need to destroy it before it spreads beyond containment.
Marcus: (from the background) Or maybe... we need to understand it better. It's not just a mask. It's something else.
The decision is made. The containment chamber is to be sealed off, and SCP-035 moved to a new, more secure location.
As the new containment chamber is prepared, Dr. Harris and Marcus stand outside, watching as technicians carefully transfer SCP-035 into a reinforced, sealed container.
Marcus: Do you think this will finally end it?
Dr. Harris: (quietly) I don't know. But I do know this—whatever this thing is, it feeds on fear. And the more we let it, the stronger it gets.
The chamber door seals with a hiss. The whispers fade, replaced by an oppressive silence. But as they turn to leave, faint bloodstains appear on the walls of the old chamber, forming a final message:
"Soon."
End.