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Things Get Stranger

Chapter Text

Of all the things Simon Glass had expected, this definitely wasn't one of them.

 

The highly trusted researcher had been returning from his well-deserved break, only to find Gears heaved over a desk with a pen digging into his furrowed brows. He blinked when he noticed the man's expression, which was full of shock and a small bit of fear. Glass knew something wasn't right when unusual man turned to him with even more of a startled countenance.

 

"Sir?" He mutters, though Gears remains completely still. "What- What happened?" The man was practically incapable of emotion, so what had gotten him in such a tizzy?

 

Gear's glances back at the glass, motioning to the empty cage and desk. SCP-079 was gone.

 

Glass stepped over, his eyes going wide. He began to slowly panic. "Where's the computer?"

 

Gears coughs in response, dropping the pen and fully turning himself to face the younger. "I- I don't know. One moment, the SCP was there.. And then it disappeared."

 

His eyebrow jerks up in response. "Wait, so- You're telling me that the SCP just.. poofed out of existence? Randomly?"  When Gears' nod is the only confirmation he gets, the man is left stumped. What in the world could've happened?

 

That's when the radio next to them began to fizzle into static, followed by the anxious and concerned voice of Dr. Adam Leeward. "SCP-049 is reported missing. I advise all staff to be on the lookout. I don't know if I should send out a breach report, because he only seems to have disa-"

 

Gears grabs the radio and switches it on to speak into it. "SCP-079 is missing as well." Leeward lets out a shaky breath.

 

With strained fingers, Gears goes to turn on his terminal and searches through any emails they possibly could have gotten. More and more again to appear, listing various SCPs of various classes, and all of them have one word in common, missing.

 

Glass stares at the screen for another moment. 

 

 

What in God's name is happening?

Chapter Text

Today, like any day, began with tears for SCP-096.



The massivelanky creature discovered himself to be upset and distraught. The sun was beaming down on his naked back, and he seemed to be in an unfamiliar areaSaid beast found himself bewildered and overwhelmed by all the new sights and sounds.



To make matters worse, it seemed he had two dangerous Keters gathering their bearings behind him. His muddled brain seemed to recognize the familiar breathing of SCP-106 and the ridiculing snicker of SCP-035. When he turned around, he saw both sitting on the sidewalk behind him, the mask without a host.



The SCPs appeared to be in an alleyway located within a bustling town, which solely was enough to make 096 even more prone to ferment.



As for 106, he was just as confounded. His old mind could only recall shrill screams of D-Class or the blankdark walls that contained him in his cellInstead, the being was staring at brick walls with sunshine glaring down at him, along with the same overwhelmed feeling. In a way, he and 096 were uncannily similar.



035, however, was having the time of his life. He did not understand how any of them ended up here, but honestly, he did not care. All he knew is that they were free, and that alone was something exhilarating. The curves of the encompassing scowl on his mask snapped upwards into a grin. How marvelousnow he merely had to figure out where they were!






Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, SCP-049 found himself suspicious. One moment, he was operating on a bovine the Foundation had graciously lent him. Now, he was standing in a city with no idea of how he got there


He wondered if this was some sort of test to see if he could recognize places and periods. If so, he failed, considering he had no idea what year it was or where he even was.

 

With a tired sigh, his silver eyes flittered over to look at the building next to him. At first glance, it appeared to be a community-building, with red brick walls and ivory columns. After a few minutes of looking at it, he inferred that it was a library just from its basic appearance.

 

After a long, drawn-out moment of contemplation, 049 decided it would be best to enter the building.

 

A surprising thought stopped him, and anxiety pricked in his throat. What if field agents were waiting for him inside, ready to sedate him and fly him back off to Site-19?

 

The moment of hesitation was instantly shooed away as he answered his concerns. Nonsense, He growled to himself, gripping his medical bag tighter. There is no need to think about such jovial matters. I have absolutely nothing to lose.

 

He opened the door and stepped inside, looking around to confirm his thoughts. When he saw the aisles with hundreds of books on every shelf, he felt relieved. He had been right about his first assumption.

 

His boots clicked against the flooring as he took a deep breath. The familiar tang of the pestilence was not present here, which lead him to believe that he was far from anywhere he had ever been before.

 

When he got to the front desk, the librarian was turned around, rifling through a filing cabinet. "Excuse me, ma'dam." 049's metallic voice rung. "Do you have any idea where we are?"

 

The lady turned around, only to nearly drop what she was holding. She glanced up at the six-foot-tall man. "We're in Hawkins, sir. Hawkins, Indiana." 049 watched her expression. So, they were somewhere in North America. 

 

The woman lifted an eyebrow at his clothing. "It's a bit early for Halloween, sir." 

 

049 tilted his head in response. "Halloween?" He tried to recall where he had heard that term before. One of the researchers was talking about it quite loudly when he had been sitting in his cell. Wasn't it a holiday of some sort?

 

049 shrugged. The woman sighed at him, leaning closer. "I take it you're not from here, are you?" He shook his head, growing uncomfortable with the proximity.

 

"I'm not, and I think it would be best if I were to go back." He swallowed a lump in his throat, inching backward. The librarian looked up at him through her lashes, causing him to flinch as if she had just burned him.

 

"Oh, well, my name's Marissa. What's yours?"

 

"SCP-049." He barks sharply, bitterness filling his tone. "And I'd be very pleased if you could back it up, young lady." His gloved hands dig into the desk, the claws at the tips of them digging into the wood.

 

She curls her lip back but does not make any further advancements. 049 lets out an exasperated sigh and turns to leave, silver eyes-rolling. He makes his way out of the building, stopping when the sunshine began to hit his hood.

 

He had no idea where to go next. Maybe try and find some more SCPs? Cure a few more victims of the disease? He tapped his beak, unsure of himself.

 

At least he had finally figured out where he was, even if he had no idea it had even existed before.

Chapter Text

"Hah! Snake eyes, bitches!"

 

The kids roll their eyes as Dustin throws his hands in the air.

 

"Dustin, that's- Not even snake eyes." Lucus massages his temples, glaring at him from across the board.

 

"Too bad! Let's go!" He moves his piece across the board, groaning as it stops on the all too familiar blue emblem. Everyone gives a short, curt laugh at his misfortune.

 

"Look who has to go to jail." Mike muses from the couch. He had opted out of playing when the game started in favor of rooting for Eleven. "Eleven's turn." All eyes turned to the adolescent girl who seemed to be off in her own, separate plane of existence.

 

"Eleven?" Max taps her shoulder. She jumps, blinking.

 

"Oh, uhm.." She rolls a three and, in turn, moves her piece accordingly. She nods for the next person to go, before returning to her own, plaguing thoughts. Something didn't feel right, and as vacuous as it sounds, she sensed a disturbance in some sort of.. unknown balance.

 

The game continues as usual, though its players are left concerned for Eleven's wellbeing.

 


 

Bam!

 

"Quit thwacking my monitor, SCP-682."

 

"Shut the fuck up, you damn computer."

 

On the far side of town, somewhere deep within a forest, two Keter and Euclid SCPs found themselves lost and at the mercy of another world. And 682's incessant foul mood certainly didn't seem to be assisting them in any manner.

 

A click sounded by the massive lizard's ear canal, causing him to snap his head around and throw his jaws open in a roar. They were also accompanied by SCP-372, who had taken the pleasure of being as annoying as it possibly could in this situation.

 

With a deep, exasperated growl, he shifted 079 in his arms. His talons smacked clumsily against the keyboard as he attempted to communicate to the other SCP. "We should try finding you something better to inhabit. I may drop you with the way this fucking insect keeps pestering me."

 

If 079 had actual human eyeballs, they'd be rolling back to his processor. He typed out a response, quickly translating his message to speech once he remembered that 682 isn't able to properly read. "Where are we?"

 

682 snorted and faced his surroundings with glowing, mustard-colored eyes. "We're in a forest, dumbass." He grunted. "Where the fuck did you think we were?" His tail swept to the side, sending leaves flying. Already, his body was adapting to his surroundings, turning his scales to a bright emerald color.

 

The computer did not respond, leaving 682 in vexing silence. A sharp buzz sounded as 372 hopped around on 682's carapace.

 

The reptilian felt his scales growing hot with anger. "For the love of FUCKING GOD, 372-"

 

"682, it wants us to follow."

 

"Oh, really now?" The lizard reached up and quickly snatched it between two talons. "Where the fuck could it possibly want us to go?"

 

"Follow it." The computer commanded, emotionless as ever. 682 grumbled and complied. 

 

Together, the newly awoken SCPs trekked off into the trees, the dark canopy looming overhead.

Chapter Text

Snap.

 

The breath-stifling sound of medical gloves being torn from someone's hand filled the otherwise silent alleyway. A man lay immobile against the cold concrete, his dusty coat thrown open haphazardly. The corpse's chest and abdominal cavity was torn open and any organs that remained were strewn across the ground.

 

The barely audible clicking of heeled boots rung throughout the vicinity while SCP-049 worked. He was somewhat of a germaphobe, using extra precautions while he worked. This included wearing another separate pair of gloves over his permanent ones, which were part of his body.

 

With a sigh, he reorganized the organs inside the man's body and injected him with a viscous fluid. The man gave a few jolts in response, his hazy eyes flying open. With a groan, he staggered to his feet, ready to serve his master. While his newly created zombie was struggling to get his footing, 049 peeked out of the alley.

 

He didn't see many people walking around, only a few passing mortals carrying shopping bags and those sorts of things. With a sigh, he turned back to his creation and gave him one simple command.

 

"Find SCP-035."

 


 

Eleven knew it was a stupid idea from the get-go. Sneaking into the woods after everything that has happened there? Yeah, not a good plan.

 

And it definitely wasn't smart to go in there when she sensed something wrong in the first place.

 

So, like the sensible human being she is, Eleven decided she was going to do this carefully. All she had to do was steal Mike's bike, and she'd be off. Well, first she'd have to figure out how to ride it, but that's an entirely different problem.

 

After she steals the bike, she's going to need to hone her senses in and find it. To make matters worse, she doesn't have use of her powers anymore, so this will probably the most difficult task.

 

After that? Well, she doesn't really know. She'll most likely figure that out when she gets there.

 

She sighed, staring at the board in front of her. There was no sense in waiting. This needed to be done now.

 


 

Well, everything went surprisingly well. Even though she tumbled a few times while trying to get the bike to cooperate, she was still on the path to success.

 

And, much to Eleven's astonishment, the source of the odd feeling was easy to find.

 

A massive clearing sat before her, covered in ferns and other fauna. Everything seemed typical, until she noticed a massive disturbance sitting in the middle. Wildlife had been destroyed by something massive, and leaves were thrown aside in odd fashions, as if a creature had swept them around.

 

She dropped to her knees to stare down at a wide footprint that had been left. It had at least four toes, each with massive talons sprouting off. She believes she can even see some scales left behind, along with some pieces of hair.

 

Another thing she takes note of is an awful odor hanging in the air. It smelled as if something was rotting away here.

 

Well, at least she now had an idea of why she felt so weird. Whatever was here definitely wasn't friendly, and that is never good. Could it be another demogorgon?

 

I sure hope not.  She sighs to herself in response to her own thoughts.  Especially since I am left defenseless. I have no way of pro-

 

Snap.

 

All color immediately drains from Eleven's face as she hears clumsy footsteps and a hiss.

 

Snap.

 

She scrambles to her feet, an awful feeling overtaking her. What if.. the monster was still nearby?

 

Snap.

 

It's closer now. She whips around with a yell, throwing her hands up in the air. Perhaps it was just a wild animal-

 

Her eyes widen. Oh, that is definitely not an animal.

 

The being standing before her is human, to some degree. At least.. It was. The zombie snarls and tries stumbles towards her, the stitches near its stomach coming undone. The entirety of its intestinal track falls to the grassy floor. She falls backwards, placing a hand over her mouth in her panic.

 

It attempts to throw itself at her, and she lets out a high pitch scream, scrambling away. Despite losing half of its internal organs about a minute ago, it seems to be functioning extremely well.

 

Just when she thinks she's out of luck, another familiar, male voice answers her's.

 

"Eleven!" 

Chapter Text

Relief floods Eleven's entire being, her eyes shooting open. She shouts for Mike again, sweat and tears rolling down her face.

 

"Mike!"

 

The undead beast before her gives a loud, raspy grunt. It's chest rumbles with a growl as another unidentifiable organ rolls out from it's badly sewn midsection. She gives another shout as she hears the aggressive cracking of a bike being ridden across twigs.

 

Mike drops the bike immediately, his eyes widening as he watches the creature blink hazily and turn around to face him, before sluggishly lunging. He dodges it fairly easy, running to Eleven and firmly gripping her arm. He rips her off the ground and they take off into the underbrush, bike long forgotten.

 

Confused, the mindless drone shambles after them, completely having forgot his previous task.

 


 

 

"What do you mean you lost my bike?"

 

"We had to run, okay!? We'll explain later." 

 

Mike sighs as Dustin and Lucas stare back at him. "Why? Why'd you have to run?" One of them pipes up. Eleven and Mike completely ignore them as they push through the two and stumble into the house.

 

"Hey-" Eleven goes down the basement stairs first, her face pale and her limbs shaky. Mike soon follows, causing Dustin to shrug and leave Lucas standing at the top of the stairwell by himself, irritated and concerned.

 

Mike sits down, tugging Eleven along with him. Dustin and Lucas both sit down across from them, eyes prodding and faces questioning.

 

"We got into a tiny bit of trouble." Mike mumbles, his gaze downcast as he stared at his sneakers. Eleven slowly nodded, too traumatized to say anything. She had seen a lot, but that had to top the 'most utterly and indescribably terrifying thing I have ever seen' list.

 

"As in?" Lucas huffs, his annoyance fading and anxiety setting in.

 

Mike opens his mouth to explain, but Eleven cuts in. "A monster." She whispers. "He.. couldn't walk. He just.. shambled around, hissing and groaning and letting out these," Her features tensed, and Mike patted her shoulder. "Awful noises."

 

She looked away for a moment, swallowing her own mounting fear. "His stomach was torn open. Everything inside of him just.. fell out." She wiped at a tear. "He looked like he was in pain.."

 

"Like a zombie.." Lucas and Dustin both finished, glancing at each other.

 

Mike rubbed his face and fought back a shuddering breath as the group was left back at square one.

 

Apparently, their duties of living through lives of horror hadn't been fulfilled. And they all knew it.

 


 

Meanwhile, SCP-035 was left on the pavement in an unfamiliar city, surrounded by two of the most dangerous idiots in his containment facility. Absolutely wonderful. Black, viscous fluid had already begun to leak from his eye sockets, as he was left exasperated and without a host.

 

Hissing to himself, he watched as SCP-096 wandered around in circles, his face sodden with tears. Next to him stood 106, who happened to have been staring at the other SCP for the past few hours.

 

035 had attempted to communicate with the two, but neither had the capability to respond. Either that, or they just didn't care.

 

"Blasphemous." The mask sneered, his fluids melting through the concrete below him. "You complete and absolute buffoon. Listen to me, εσύ παλιά μούμια!"

 

They both didn't listen, leaving him lonely and fuming. "Σκατά!" He cursed loudly, voice booming and anger stricken.

 

An idea popped into 035's head, and he began trying to contact a random human telepathically.

 

"Hello?" They called back, causing a grin to appear on the mask's face.

 

He had done it.

Chapter Text

"Are you serious?"

 

"Yes, I am. We have to cross the river somehow, 682."

 

Somewhere deep within Hawkin's forest, SCP-682 and SCP-079 were angrily contemplating how they were going to make it across a massive stream. They were unsure how long it was, but they didn't care too much about finding out.

 

"I'm not going in the fucking water!" The beast roared, slamming his tail angrily into the damp sediment surrounding them. Mud flew in all directions, causing SCP-372 to spring in the air and scatter out of the splatter zone.

 

"How else are we going to get across it? Would you rather jump?" 079 typed, his processor whirling in irritation.

 

The lizard opened his jaws to respond, but stopped, sputtering as he did so. "Well- no- but-"

 

The computer's monitor changed to that of a face, glaring at 682 with an exasperated expression. He began to type again.

 

"You're too much of a pussy to actually do it, hmm?" 

 

682's skull went a bright red color out of both anger and embarrassment. His multiple sets of eyes finally reached their target, which happened to be a tree a few meters away.

 

"Fine." He snarled, gills opening up on his neck. His body made minor changes to itself as he became accustomed to the environment, and he eventually adapted enough to have webbed feet and a stronger tail.

 

With a tired growl, he sank into the river and began his journey across. He had to hold 079 above his head and out of the water to keep him from getting even more damaged. Beside him, SCP-372 skipped over the water like a water strider.

 

Surprisingly, it felt nice to feel the water wash the acid and old blood out of his wounds, causing them to seal over and heal up. When he reemerged, his brown flesh looked as good as new, mottled with light orange specks as it fought to keep up with the changing environment.

 

The lizard shook his hair off with an angry grunt, sinking his claws into the mud and cringing at the texture.

 

"Let's just get out of here and find somewhere dry, alright?" He hissed.

 

"Whatever you say, 682."

 


 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

 

SCP-049 clicked his clawed fingers against the desk he was sitting on. He had returned to the library after washing his gloves and searching around a bit more.

 

And now, he was faced with the most confusing thing he had ever seen in his life.

 

A computer.

 

Granted, this one wasn't as new as the ones they had at the Foundation. It was blocky and unstable, with keys bigger than his nails themselves. And it didn't run as smoothly as the ones he saw the researchers using.

 

He fumbled with the mouse a bit more, trying to figure out how to properly work it.

 

With a tired sigh, he clicked off and stood from his chair, rubbing his masked face. All he wanted to do was find out more about this mysterious place!

 

He slammed the door open, shooting the broad working at the counter a deep, scathing glare.

 

Nothing ever went right for him.

Chapter Text

"D-4729, please step into the chamber for testing."

 

He was too young to die, and those damn researchers knew it.

 

"Please approach SCP-939-109."

 

There was no use trying to fight them, he'd end up broken and dismembered no matter what he did.

 

"Who's there?"

 

There was a maw of teeth. That's all he could make out.

 

"D-4729, report."

 

"It's- It's laying down!"

 

"Please move in closer for better observation."

 

"There's something- oh my god-"

 

He was struggling with his own words out of pure fear.

 

"D-4729! Report!"

 

"There's- There's four more behind it!"

 

"Can you see the trackers?"

 

"Yes- It's SCP-939-1.. And SCP-939-19.." He paused to speak. "I think SCP-939-96 and SCP-939-98 are in there too!"

 

"What behaviors are they exhibiting?"

 

His voice was getting hoarse.. He couldn't remember.

 

"They're curled up near each other. There's hissing coming from the holes.. Oh- oh god!"

 

"D-4729!  We're going to get y-"

 

A scream silenced them.

 


 

Dr. Mann glared out over the observation window that they had installed. D-4729's corpse lay in SCP-939-109's jaws, crumpled and bleeding.

 

"Dammit!" Dr. Light whispered.

 

"Well, at least we've narrowed down the 'missing' mark to 4."

 

"We shouldn't even be working this case in the first place!" She hissed.

 

They were both stationed to the SCP-939s, which is unusual for the both of them. Why, you ask?

 

Well, Light is a hardy, calculative biologist, so it made a fraction of sense that she was assigned to an SCP that had a few human-like qualities. This SCP is hardly human, though, and would be better suited for someone who works more closely with amphibious and animal anomalies.

 

What was even more mind-boggling was Mann's case. The scientist is usually found working with the medical field and typically deals with the aftermath of damaging SCPs, not to heal, but to observe. To be assigned to creatures like this was atypical in many ways for a man of such study.

 

When the two researchers went to question their higher-ups, they were denied of information and were forced to go on with testing. 

 

Speculation was whirling around the cafeteria that the O5 was trying to cover up a disastrous mistake, which isn't exactly uncommon in a line of work such as this one.

 

Still, it was nerve-racking to think about such a thing happening.

 

"Alright, I've checked off their serials." Light glanced at her coworker, humming under her breath. "I'm going to go report this to Dr. Moose. Let's hope she's satisfied.

 

Mann nodded, watching her leave. With shaking hands, he turned back to the chamber and flicked on the lights, scattering the SCPs into darker corners. 

 

A frown settled on his face. He swallowed heavily, stuffing down the bad feeling that was surfacing in his gut and closing his eyes.

 

This would all settle down in a matter of months, he was sure of it.

 



"Are you sure this is where you guys found it?"

 

"Yes, Lucas. Look! There's even blood from the hole in his chest!"

 

They all knelt around a massive puddle of dark red fluid, riddled with chunks of browned flesh that had fallen off when the undead man lunged for Eleven.

 

"I think I'm gonna be sick.." Will whimpered, turning around. He had insisted that the group bring him along, but now that he was here, he was really starting to regret his begging.

 

"God.. Look at all this.." Dustin spoke, his eyes wide at the gruesome scene. "Is that..?"

 

"A needle? I think it is.." Mike pulled a cloth over his hands and picked it up, careful as to not poke himself.

 

"There's fluid inside of it.." Max hissed, her palms clammy. "This is such a bad idea.."

 

"Maybe if we take it to Mr. Clark.."

 

All of it was static to Eleven, who stared forward into the endless, green abyss of trees. Something felt wrong..

 

Shivers crawled up her spine when she heard a roar, deep enough that it was muffled to sound like something akin to a car starting. "Guys?" She whispered, glancing backwards,

 

Flashes of shimmering yellow invaded her vision, with black, narrowed pupils speckled through the orbs of bright color. A deep snarling sounded in her ears, but she had no idea where it was coming from.

 

"Guys-" She was beginning to panic. However, all but one of them continued to ignore her. 

 

Will slowly approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder. They both shared a moment of silent fear. They could sense it.

 

"Guys!"  Will shouted, alerting the group. "There's something coming.."

 

Mike shot up, grabbing Eleven's upper-arm and tugging her onto a bike. Lucas and Max did the same, and so did Dustin and Will. They tore off into the woods and back towards the road.

 

There was something out there.

 

Something they couldn't understand.

 

And they all knew it.

Chapter Text

It was a gorgeous day in Hawkin's rural town. The sun shined on the pavement, lighting up cracks in between the cement where water had gathered from the previous rains, and orange leaves fluttered through the chilly air.

 

A perfect day for a young man with a mask strapped onto his face to go running down the streets like a banshee, tripping and stumbling as he went.

 

SCP-035 stopped when he got to a traffic sign, wiping a bit of imaginary sweat off of his porcelain brow, sighing and panting. He waited for the light to turn green before he took off once more, bumping into townsfolk who were going about their days.

 

He reached the post office, grunting and coughing. Man, the guy he happened to possess was extremely thin and out of shape. His body probably hadn't exercised like this in years.

 

The woman at the front desk gave him a weird look as he stumbled up, his movements awkward from just having possessed someone.

 

"Excuse me, ma'dam," His expression switched to the most convincing smile he could muster as she gave him an even weirder look. "Do you happen to know what the full date is?"

 

She squinted at him and growled, before hissing out a, "October 33, 1985." 035 inhaled sharply, thanking her for the help.



He was about to turn around and head back to 096 and 106 when he paused. "Did you happen to see a tall man with a black cloak and a white mask walking around here?"



The dry woman snorted. "Actually, yes, we have. " She rubbed her face as she muttered the rest of her sentence. "He came walking through here a few days ago. It seemed like he was headed for the library."



SCP-035 smiled and nodded, picking up his pace as he rushed back to his hiding spot. He was so close to finding his γλυκό κεράσι!



When he returned, he found an empty alleyway that was ridden with black sludge and splattered with ruby blood.







SCP-049 was fuming. He was absolutely, positively pissed!



The urge to operate came to him as he slouched to the dirty ground, tilting his head back against the wall and sighing to himself. He folded his hands in his lap as he fought to contain the urge to reach out and tap one of the many people walking by.



His chest ached with desperation. Why? He did not know. But every time he thought back to that smooth, cold touch of the white porcelain he had once touched, the pain got worse.

 

049 immediately recognized the feeling, as he was definitely no stranger to love. His memory was blurry, but he was fairly certain that he could have been married. And even if he wasn't, he had probably felt for some maiden in the past.


No, the doctor knew exactly what his feelings where. He just couldn't decipher why he was feeling it for his partner.. The entity that he had traveled a good quarter of his life with.



What was it that drew them together? Passion? Desperation for any fragment of human feeling?

 

Maybe it was something more carnal..



SCP-049 shook his head at the thought. He shouldn't be thinking of such vulgar things in public. 



But it did interest him..



With another heavy sigh, he tore himself off the nasty street. He began walking down the road and towards a convince store.



Perhaps this bustling environment was overwhelming him? A quieter place could give him more time to think.