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Legacy of Longinus

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Author's note:  This creature is a sadistic, messy thing.  The link for SCP 106 is at the bottom.  I'm a huge horror fan, and this creeped me right out.  Regardless, he's one of my favourites, and I had to put him in this story.

Chapter  4



Dean got up quickly, watching all around him as he made his way towards the sounds of the other agents. Apparently, the now missing agent Yorman had yelled loud enough that they were running towards him.

I heard Joe down here!”


Sounds like he was with someone.”

Dean made his way slowly around the corner with hands up to keep the others from shooting him. “Agent Yorman's gone. Whatever the hell that thing was, I think it pulled him into the ceiling. We have to get him out of there.”

The other men went silent. One flipped open a cell phone as the others kept an eye on the surrounding walls, floors, and ceilings. “Major? Yes, it's Agent Jameson. It's 106 again, he's breached containment. Yes, we've already set the bait in the new cell sir, but it took Agent Yorman instead.”

Jameson listened to the phone and the men started to move down the hall. The sirens continued their incessant warning cry as a soundtrack to their march. Everyone tried to stay away from the shadows as much as possible. Dean noticed one of the agents he met earlier in the hallway was with them and he bumped the other man's shoulder. “Walt,” he whispered, “What bait are we using here?”  Walt looked grim. “Human. We use D-class. You know, the death row guys? SCP-106 usually goes for men between 18 and 24. It don't usually go for anyone older, but why it took Joe...”

Shit! Move!” Dean yelled. Hands reached out from a shadow cast on the wall by a chair and grabbed at Dean's jacket. He slipped it off and lunged away from the decrepit form as it pulled back quickly into the wall with an enraged shriek. Dean ran to catch up with the team. The ungodly wails seemed to continue on in another area nearby until Dean realized that the cry was not of rage, but of agony.

Before Dean could take off in the direction of the cries, a guard rounded the corner at full speed. He stopped short before colliding with agent Jameson and saluted. “Sir, the corridors have been cleared of staff. We have added more bait to the cell to see if that'll bring it into the enclosure.”

Good work. Stay with us until the SCP has been contained.”

More bait? Were they using another poor son of a bitch? This was insane! “What about Yorman?” asked Dean. “Are you sure we can't get him back?” Agent Jameson cast a hard glare at Dean. “Son, once people get pulled into whatever place that fucker pops out of, they're gone. If they come back at all, they're like corn dolls; dried up husks that still blink and breathe but dead within the hour. This thing hunts for sport, not for food. We secure them in a new cell that'll hold off corroding for a while, then wait until the bastards get out again.”

That's it? You just wait until they escape? There's nothing in this place to kill it!?”

What, you think you know something that we don't, rookie?” Jameson growled. Dean met the glare and nodded. Another shriek echoed down the hallway; it was getting closer and was nowhere near the pain-filled noises of the two injured and terrified convicts. It definitely wasn't heading towards the bait. The thing seemed to want to hunt instead, and the prey was the small group of agents crouched in the hallway intersection. The men took off again, watching each other's backs with growing worry as it seemed that the normal containment procedure may not work after all.

Dean looked beside him to Agent Jameson. “I'll need salt, iron, silver, holy water, the goddamn kitchen sink of sacred shit that you got here.”

We have an angel,” said a voice from behind him.

Agent Jameson spun around to see who leaked that high-level information. No rookie should know about that! The agent looked at the blood-flecked man in the lab coat. Haunted eyes stared back evenly at the agent; clearly, he didn't care who knew, not after whatever he had seen had painted his lab whites like a crime scene. “Its behavior has altered, Agent. It's not going for the bait. We brought in the second man, and it's not working. It...took my lab partner. Slashed him open with its claws from throat to groin, then it...reached into his guts and pulled him into the ceiling by his spine. Jesus, I don't know if I'll sleep again after seeing that.” He took a breath to steady himself as another shriek echoed down the hall. “If the angel will help us, then we should use him.”

Dean, along with the rest of the small group was stunned. An angel? The hunter wondered if they really had managed to capture Gabriel after all.

The Agent in charge took a moment to consider the idea, then flipped open the phone and dialed. “Hello, Major? Jameson again. The bait isn't working. It's been suggested to use SCP 1829. I'm requesting authorization to retrieve him from containment. Wait. No, one of the scientists leaked the intel!”

One of the men grabbed at the doctor to pull him away from a rapidly growing patch of rust on the floor, but it gave way before he could move. The doctor grabbed for the guard and instead of hoisting the doctor free, the guard ended up being pulled in along with the other man. A malevolent cackle erupted from the gash in the floor before it sealed tight.

Major, 106 just took two more men. We need the angel.” Jameson said into the phone. They were down to three agents now; Dean, Walt, and Jameson, as well as a lone guard. The alarm had ceased it's shrill beeps and the lights were starting to short out and flicker, causing shadows to appear and disappear without a pattern. There was nowhere to run. A second later Jameson closed his phone and started down the left hallway. “We have permission. The room is this way.”

Dean's heart clenched in his chest as the quartet ran full speed through the labyrinth of corridors towards the cell where the angel was contained. Did they really have Gabriel? Was it someone else? “Who do you have sir?”

The angel won't say his name, Winchester,” replied Jameson. Dean prepared himself when he caught a glance at who was beyond the glass in the door. His breath caught in his chest at what he saw.

Gabriel looked awful. The archangel's angry red skin on his arms and hands was a horrible contrast against the white room and the gray hospital clothes he wore. Dean remembered seeing Castiel when he had fallen from Heaven near the end of their battle with Lucifer, but Gabriel looked beaten and about to fall over. Something here was draining Gabriel of his strength, and Dean started to wonder if any of them would get out of this situation alive. “You know this angel, Winchester?” asked Jameson.

Dean nodded. “We have history.”

You sure he'll be up to this?” Walt asked as he looked through the glass. “He ain't looking so hot, Dean.” Jameson was grabbing the mobile angel containment unit from beside the door. Dean could see the Enochian etched into the glass, and knew instantly why Gabriel couldn't leave, and why no other angel could see in. The Foundation really had done their homework on how to keep a pet angel. Dean turned to Walt and shrugged, trying to keep his poker face in place. “I don't know, Walt.”

A scream sounded down the hall from behind and Agent Jameson turned to Dean. “You think he'll help you?”

Let me put it this way, sir. The first time I met him he tried to kill me. The second time he killed me over and over in a Groundhog Day movie scenario just to prove a point, and the last time he took on Lucifer to my sorry ass...and lost.”

Meaning...”

Flip a coin, sir. You'll get better odds.”

Agent Jameson cursed silently, then shook his head and swiped his keycard in the lock.

<SCP-106>