Once upon a time, there was a monster that lived in a castle.
Once upon a time, there was a monster that lived in a castle.
She was an ugly, twisted thing. Pale skin stretched taut across disfigured bones, talon-like fingers extending from warped arms. Her mouth could open wider than a snake's, and her eyes were as white as summer clouds. The townsfolk simply called her the Beast.
Once, perhaps, the Beast had another name, but neither she nor any of the townsfolk could remember what it was. The oldest of them spun tales of the terrors she had wrought, back when she still stalked the wilderness. It was said that she always screamed louder than her victims.
At the edge of the town was the castle, towering, eternal, alive. Its spires of sun-bleached bone blazed with light during the day, transforming to dark obelisks with the coming of night. Its walls and buttresses were little more than blocks of pink flesh, giant fangs protruding at irregular intervals. And there was a gate, a quivering web of muscle strands, red as blood.
Description: SCP-2075 is Karcist Varis, a Sarkic practitioner and skilled carnomancer. Though she has displayed the ability to alter her physical appearance at will, SCP-2075 has consistently taken the form of a middle-aged Caucasian woman while in containment.
SCP-2075 adheres to a seemingly unique sect of proto-Sarkicism, tentatively designated SCP-2075-A. SCP-2075 does not boast abilities beyond those typically observed in 'Karcists', hence her classification as Euclid.
“Twenty-three years of complete cooperation with the Foundation. An additional sixteen years of cooperation with GRU Division “P”. Few requests for expanded amenities during containment approved without issue. Positive relationship with Dr. Albert Cronenberg, on friendly terms with multiple members of staff.”
Karcist Varis laid back in her chair, though she took care to maintain a professional expression. There was a shuffling of papers as the man in front of her paused, then put the file back down on the desk.
“I know you mean well, Varis, but I can't just let you access another anomaly like this.“
She studied Maurice for a moment, but the Director's tone was honest, his breathing regular and his blood pressure stable.
“Why not? What harm could come of this?”
“Command doesn't like it when you mix up anomalies, doesn't matter what they are. There's no way I can justify this, especially considering there's nothing wrong or unsustainable with how it's currently contained. I'm sorry.”
No change in tone, no spike in heart rate. He really did want to help, she realized. A rare virtue for Foundation employees, especially senior ones. She knew what button to press.
“The O5s aren't the ones signing on this, though. You are. They like results more than anything. Give me access once a week, recorded and secured, and they won't have to fear this particular Broken Masquerade scenario anymore.”
Silence followed. Varis wished she could see his expression. He was obviously contemplating how long it would take for his shadowy superiors to notice, and whether or not she'd succeed in time. She waited calmly. Patience was a quality she had in no short supply.
“You really think you can do this? Talking to it?” He said eventually.
“I think my proposal was quite clear, Director.”
“And you're sure that you'll be–”
“With all due respect sir, I am blind. I highly doubt I will see its face.”
And so the Beast lived within the castle while the townsfolk below went on with their lives. She paced the empty halls, adorned as they were with tapestries of skin and thick carpets of tightly woven hair. She sat at the decrepit library, staring at the volumes rotting on the shelves. She climbed to the tops of the tallest towers and descended them again without sparing a glance for the world outside.
The Beast was lonely in the castle, but the solitude brought with it a cold comfort. No one could see her while she was inside. No judgemental eyes followed her movements, no disgusted stares or unsettled glances. She was alone.
Until one summer morning, a stranger arrived at the crimson gate.
There was something odd about this stranger, though she couldn’t quite place it as she ran up the stairs. It was only when she carefully peeked out of a window on the third floor that she realized what it was. They were blindfolded, and could not see.
Interview 096-2
Interviewer: SCP-2075
Interviewee: SCP-096
Date: 1/1/2014
Overseeing Researcher: Dr. Albert Cronenberg.
Foreword: Upon request, SCP-2075 was granted access to SCP-096’s containment chamber, on the condition that she be escorted by two blindfolded Foundation agents (Jonathan Li and Jacob D. Moore). Audio recording is as follows.
<Begin log.>
<The door to SCP-096’s containment chamber grinds open. Two pairs of heavy footsteps are heard, accompanied by another, softer set.>
SCP-2075: Hello, SCP-096. Or perhaps you would prefer to be called a different name?
<Sounds of steady breathing.>
SCP-2075: My name is Varis.
<Soft sounds of shuffling feet.>
<A low growl, accompanied by sounds of scratching against the floor. Pressure sensors beep as something large shifts its weight. The lighter set of footsteps stop.>
SCP-2075: I'm not here to hurt you.
<SCP-096 growls again, softer this time. SCP-2075 takes a step in its direction, then another. The sounds of heavy breathing grow stronger, but the sensors on the floor remain silent.>
SCP-2075: Permission to touch the anomaly, Dr. Cronenberg?
<Silence, apart from SCP-096's breaths. The Karcist remains deathly still.>
Dr. Cronenberg (via intercom): Do not make any alterations.
<SCP-2075 exhales.>
SCP-2075: Of course not. I do not practice my art on the unwilling.
<Another pause, as if the doctor is waiting for something. Steady breaths are all that is heard on the recording. A minute passes.>
Dr. Cronenberg (via intercom): Permission granted.
The Beast stared at her mysterious visitor. Her first and only visitor. The gates were open, and they began to walk towards the main doors. She left the window, moving quickly down the stairs towards the main hall, where she found the stranger waiting for her.
She was a woman with salt and pepper hair, neatly cut to shoulder length. She wore a simple brown traveling cloak, and held a small object in her left hand. She told the Beast that her name was Varis. The monster wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. It had been so long since she’d last spoken…
The Beast blinked, realizing that Varis was now standing barely a meter away from her. “Well,” said the woman, “Do you have a name?” Her voice was light, musical. Everything the Beast wasn’t.
What should I say? She did not remember her name. Nothing, then? But Varis had asked a question. If she wouldn’t answer, she would leave, and she would be alone again.
SCP-096: I…
She immediately regretted opening her mouth. Varis couldn’t see, but she could definitely hear that she was a monster now. People don’t growl like that when they talk. People don’t–
SCP-2075: Yes? What is it?
<Heavy breathing, presumably from SCP-096, accompanied by quick, excited breaths.>
SCP-096: I don’t know.
“I have to leave now, I’m afraid. But I’ll be back in a week. Maybe you’ll remember something by then.”
And just like that, she was gone. The Beast stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space where a woman used to be. Perhaps it was a dream. Her own fantasies coalescing for just a moment. But nothing like that had ever happened before, never in all those long years of solitude. So the Beast got to work.
Closing Statement: SCP-096 is capable of speech, and is likely sapient. Containment Procedures for SCP-096 are scheduled for review by the Containment Committee and the Ethics Committee. Interview deemed successful. Next interview scheduled for 8/1/2014.
She’d never tried to clean the castle. She never saw a reason to. But now she was expecting a guest, and she felt that it was only appropriate. The fortress was vast and the work was tiring, but by the end of the week she had managed to dust off most of the great hall and begin scrubbing the library.
The townsfolk had taken notice of this, of course. The sounds of her work echoed throughout the castle and down to the village, rumors sprouting in their wake. None of them dared to approach her lair, however. Only one woman was courageous enough to try.
Interview 096-3
Interviewer: SCP-2075
Interviewee: SCP-096
Date: 8/1/2014
Overseeing Researcher: Dr. Albert Cronenberg.
Foreword: During the week before the interview, pressure sensors within SCP-096’s cell indicated that the anomaly had become more active, moving all around the chamber and running its hands against the walls. Additionally, SCP-096 was recorded vocalizing numerous times a day, seemingly in an attempt to form human speech. Despite this, it did not express any hostility, and the interview was carried out as normal; SCP-2075 performed the interview with an escort of two blindfolded agents, Jonathan Li and Jacob D. Moore.
<Begin log>
SCP-2075: Hello, I am Karcist Varis. Do you remember me?
SCP-096: Yes… Hello.
<SCP-096’s voice is low and cracked. It speaks slowly, as if every syllable takes great effort.>
SCP-096: That word… ‘Karcist’. A name?
SCP-2075: I'm afraid not. It’s a title. It means ‘leader’, in more ways than one.
Dr. Cronenberg (via intercom): Please stay on topic. Ask it about its origins.
They were standing across from each other in the great hall. It was a large, empty space, large pillars of bone twisting upwards to hold up the ceiling. Stained keratin windows lined the walls. She was fairly certain she should bring out a chair for her visitor, but she didn’t remember if she had any.
“Leader? Who do you lead?” Her speech came out rough and unnatural. Varis didn’t seem to mind.
“Currently, no-one. Once I led a great flock. I hope to do so again, sometime.” A pause. “Have you thought about your name?”
“I am the Beast. It is my name. Always… it is the only one I've had.” She wasn’t sure if this was true. Her speech was improving, though. “Monsters don’t choose their names.” That part was definitely true.
SCP-2075: That’s… an interesting choice of phrasing.
<Tapping on recording device.>
SCP-2075: Why do you think you’re a monster?
<Shuffling, scraping against walls.>
SCP-096: Isn’t it obvious? Have you seen me?
SCP-2075: I have not.
SCP-096: Oh. Right.
<Silence on recording.>
SCP-096: If you took off your blindfold, you would understand. Please don’t do that, though.
Varis looked confused. Did she scare her? Did she screw it up? Did she–
“I don’t think you’re a monster.” Said Varis.
The Beast didn't respond for a long time. Finally she said, “What do you think I am?”
“I think you are a prisoner, in more senses than one.”
A torch of neurons, mounted on one of the pillars, crackled suddenly with electricity. “You used that phrase before. When you explained the word ‘Karcist’, you said you lead people. What did you mean?”
Varis seemed lost in thought for a moment, though it was difficult to tell with the blindfold around her eyes. “A Karcist leads her community in spirit and in faith, but also in the more practical matters of day-to-day life.”
“You’re religious?” A shiver went down the Beast’s warped spine. She wasn’t sure why.
“I am Nälkä. It is a faith that, regrettably, has all but vanished from this world. I can tell you about it, if you’d like.”
The Beast calmed. “Yes, I’d like that.”
SCP-2075: In the beginning, there was only Yaldabaoth, the Devourer. It is a force of primordial hunger and purest chaos. It does not think, it does not plan. It only moves to satiate its most base desire, to feed. And it is the source of all life in the universe.
SCP-096: What does it eat?
SCP-2075: Its own creations. Like I said, it does not plan. It seeds the universe with life, which grows and prospers until it is devoured by Yaldabaoth. It is a vicious cycle of cosmic proportions. Are you following?
SCP-096: I think so. Though this doesn’t sound… pleasant.
Dr. Cronenberg: Va– SCP-2075, I am reminding you that the purpose of these interviews are to learn more about SCP-096, not to preach gospel.
SCP-2075: Ha! I’m getting there. No, it’s not pleasant, but so is reality: cruel, corrupt, uncaring. We are all children of the Devourer, created as less than an afterthought, doomed to be sacrificed and snuffed out without so much as a whimper. It is against this world that the Nälkä rebel.
SCP-096: That’s… interesting. I always thought that religion was a sort of escapism. The thought that everything is going according to God’s plan, even when it all feels so hopeless. Reassurance.
<Tapping on recording device.>
SCP-2075: To others, perhaps it is. I have met many who wait for salvation from a higher power. Nälkä believe that we must be our own saviors. To quote Grand Karcist Ion:
“Know that our paradise draws near.
And with our own flesh shall we birth it.”
Closing Statement: SCP-096 displays human level intelligence and familiarity with baseline religious concepts. Interestingly, SCP-2075 herself was not wearing a blindfold, unlike her escorts. It is unknown why SCP-096 believed this to be the case. Interview deemed successful. Next interview scheduled for 15/1/2014.
“Explain yourself.” Said Dr. Albert Cronenberg’s familiar voice as Varis entered the office. To his right spoke another, “Hello Varis, it’s Maurice.”
The Karcist felt around for her chair and sat before the doctor and Director. “Explain what, if I may ask?”
Albert groaned. “Why did you deviate from the approved line of questioning?”
“Because I believed it would be more beneficial to our cause, and I’ve been proven right.” She kept her tone as neutral as possible.
“Please explain why you believe teaching the doctrines of an anomalous religion to an active anomaly furthered the Foundation’s mission statement.” His heart was beating angrily, she could feel it tapping at the edges of her Halkost.
“Oh-ninety-six has not spoken once in more than two decades of containment. You think they would just start giving you their full biography on the second interview?”
The head researcher raised an eyebrow. “They?”
“I do not think it right to refer to a person with object pronouns. Few are comfortable with it.” Varis said simply.
“You think ninety-six is a person?” His anger was subsiding, heart rate steadying. Curiosity peered between the cracks of protocol.
“I tried to signal that to you but– nevermind. 096 says they don’t remember their name, and have avoided talking about themselves. So I didn’t push, and just a few seconds later they told me their thoughts on faith. They sound like someone who grew up in a religious household, not like the murder monster your file describes.”
“We’re trying to help you here, Varis.” Said Maurice. “But you must understand that ignoring procedure like that has consequences. This is hard enough to pass off as is.”
“I have shown you results. But if that’s not enough, let me in on the research team and I won’t need to disobey your protocols anymore. I’ll help write them.”
There was a moment of silence. Varis assumed the two men were sharing knowing looks or angry glares or whatever information they could convey without speaking. Eventually, it was Albert who answered. “I can… bring you on as a consultant. Maybe.” He said hesitantly.
“Excellent!” She clapped her hands. “Are we done here, then?”
Interview 096-4
Interviewer: SCP-2075
Interviewee: SCP-096
Date: 15/1/2014
Overseeing Researcher: Dr. Albert Cronenberg.
Foreword: SCP-096 has remained in a heightened sense of activity. Per request, SCP-2075 has been given consultant status to the SCP-096 research team. Per standard protocol, SCP-2075 was escorted by Foundation Agents Jonathan Li and Jacob D. Moore, both of which wore blindfolds.
<Begin log>
SCP-2075: What is your earliest memory?
The two sat in the darkened library of the castle. The Beast had spent the previous week cleaning and organizing it, but it still looked like a mess. Withered volumes lay piled in a corner, leaving the bookshelves skeletal and empty. She did, however, manage to sculpt a table and two chairs out of the fleshy floor, so at least they wouldn’t have to stand awkwardly anymore.
“I’m… not sure.” She replied, staring at the salvaged books on the table before them. She opened one of the five, flipping through the pages. “I remember being hunted and afraid. I killed them.”
“Who’s them?” Varis asked.
“Knights, in black armor.” She found the image she was looking for, of the soldiers surrounding her with their weapons drawn. Their forms were blurry. “I don’t know who they were. But they saw me, so I killed them.”
“Do you know how you got here?” This took the Beast by surprise.
“I don’t know.” She realized. The castle had always been there. But she hadn’t always been in it. Why didn’t she remember that? “But it’s my home now.” She thought for a moment. “I think it… took me in?”
<Tapping on recording device.>
SCP-2075: Took you in?
<Quickened breaths.>
SCP-2075: You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.
<Silence on recording.>
SCP-096: Last time, you said you thought I was a prisoner.
Dr. Cronenberg (via intercom): Remember what we talked about.
SCP-2075: Yes.
SCP-096: Do you think it traps me?
Dr. Cronenberg (via intercom): Varis.
<Silence on recording.>
SCP-2075: Physically, no, I doubt these walls can hold you. I meant it in a more… metaphorical, or mental sense. You say this place is your home, how do you feel about that?
SCP-096: It’s alright. Quiet. But it’s also lonely. I’m glad you come by. Thank you.
SCP-2075: It’s no problem at all, you’re an interesting person to talk to.
She felt a strange pang of euphoria. Varis meant what she said. She thought the Beast was not a beast at all. She hadn’t seen her, no, but she had listened to her growl and rumble, heard her disgusting body drag itself across the floor. And yet she persisted. The woman was wrong, obviously, but she was still clearly convinced of that fact.
“Can you tell me about Grand Karcist Ion?” She asked.
SCP-2075: You have a very good memory.
SCP-096: I have a lot of time to think about our conversations.
SCP-2075: True enough. Well, I could speak for years about the Ozi̮rmok, but I suppose I should start at the beginning.
SCP-096: Hold on, 'the Ozi̮rmok'?
SCP-2075: A title reserved for Ion and Ion alone, meaning something akin to 'Shepherd of Shepherds'.
SCP-096: But it's alright to just say their name, without the title?
SCP-2075: Of course. Once you hear the story, I believe you will understand. Ion was born a slave to the ancient Daevite Empire, which dominated the world at the time. Their matriarchal priestesses were cruel and ruthless rulers, and it is said that for every Daevite there were a thousand slaves chained in service.
SCP-096: That sounds like an exaggeration.
SCP-2075: Perhaps. It was a long time ago and I was not alive then. Regardless, there are many stories about Ion’s ascension. Most agree that they devoured a god, and in so doing learned the secrets of flesh. How to mold their form to any image they desired, from the smallest insect to colossal behemoths that have no equal in nature. They taught this art to others, and so began a revolt that ultimately annihilated the Daevites and established Kalmaktama, the Deathless Empire in its place.
SCP-2075: This might be a lot to take in.
SCP-096: Yes. Wait, does this– does this mean you can do it too? Change your form?
SCP-2075: Indeed.
SCP-096: Can you show me?
Dr. Cronenberg (via intercom): Make minor alterations only. An extra hand or something.
SCP-2075: Well I’m no master of the craft, but sure.
Varis stood up, taking off her cloak and hanging it on the chair carefully. A pair of white bones sprouted from her sides, lengthening and splitting to form palms and fingers. She watched as red muscles followed, weaving together like an elaborate tapestry before being covered by a sheet of skin. It was beautiful.
“Wow.”
She felt a rush she couldn’t explain. A million questions burned in her mind. What else could Varis do? Could it be taught? Could she learn how to change herself? Could Varis change her?
Of course not. That was impossible. The Beast remembered the battle, how the soldiers tore her flesh with fire and lead. So much lead. But it didn’t matter, they couldn’t even scratch the unyielding skeleton beneath. No, it would always be there, just like she would always be a rancid, repulsive creature that people looked upon with disgust and hate and fear–
The Grand Karcist had changed themself, had they not? Was Ion not loved and admired? But Ion had been born human and she was born– she was…
The floor quivered.
Excerpts from Interviews 096-5 to 096-8
SCP-096: So, if you can change and heal yourself, why don’t you cure your blindness?
SCP-2075: I’ve been asked that question more times than I can count.
SCP-096: Oh, I’m sorry if I–
SCP-2075: No, it’s fine. I can understand it. Unlike most, my blindness isn’t caused by something being wrong with the eyes themselves, rather it’s my brain that can’t process the information it receives.
SCP-096: And messing with the brain is dangerous.
SCP-2075: Extremely. One wrong move and suddenly you can’t think or feel properly, and all the body’s systems come crashing down one after another.
SCP-2075: But even if I could do it safely, I don’t think I would. Most people lose their vision gradually, and then they need to learn to live without it. But I’ve been blind since birth, I’ve never felt a need to see, never needed to adjust. I’m curious, certainly, but no more than I am about how it feels to sense the electromagnetic field or hear other people’s thoughts.
SCP-096: Why do you wear a blindfold then?
SCP-2075: I’m–I’m not sure what you mean. I don’t have a blindfold.
<SCP-096 is silent for several seconds. Its breathing grows irregular.>
SCP-2075: Perhaps you’d like to talk about something else?
SCP-2075: Well?
SCP-096: I remember… I was at a party, a big one with lots of people, and I was running away.
SCP-2075: Running from whom?
SCP-096: I’m not sure, but they were staring at me and I couldn’t take it anymore, so I ran.
SCP-2075: You don’t like being looked at.
SCP-096: I hate it. I can always tell when - there’s this sickening feeling that creeps down my spine, into my stomach and through my blood and it’s awful. But they just would. Not. Stop. So I…
SCP-096: I hurt them. I killed them.
<Scratching against metal wall.>
SCP-096: Worse. I crushed them into paste and I drank them, and it felt good because I’m a monster and I hate it so much–
SCP-2075: It’s alright.
SCP-096: No, it's not alright! They didn’t deserve what I did to them. None of them did. They screamed and bled and choked and died but I didn’t feel anything. Just relief when they didn’t have eyes anymore.
SCP-2075: But you are–
SCP-096: If this really is a prison, I deserve it.
SCP-2075: – feeling remorse right now. Would a monster feel guilt?
SCP-096: Huh?
SCP-2075: I think a real monster would have kept hunting and terrorizing, it wouldn’t isolate itself. When you said you felt “drawn in”, maybe it was not just to get away from the stares, but so that you wouldn’t have to hurt someone again?
<Silence on recording.>
SCP-2075: You feel guilty for doing something terrible. That makes you more human than most, I think.
SCP-096: You don’t mean that. You don’t understand.
SCP-2075: What’s done is done.
SCP-096: What did the people think of Ion? Weren't they afraid when the Ozi̮rmok transformed into giant behemoths and crushed fortresses into dust?
SCP-2075: Perhaps it is time I told you about the Klavigars.
SCP-096: The Klavigars?
SCP-2075: There are four, Nadox, Lovataar, Orok and Saarn. They were the Grand Karcist’s closest friends and strongest allies. Some say they functioned as a family of a sort. Much of our scripture describes the relationship between the five.
SCP-096: So… a found-family sort of thing?
SCP-2075: I’m not sure what you mean, but maybe. Much nuance has been lost in the conversion of speech and live events to text. Words like “love” can mean a great many things…But I will tell you my interpretation.
SCP-2075: Nadox is a pariah. He was branded by the Daeva as a “sufferer” for preaching equality to the slaves and the poor. Instead of killing him, they marked his forehead and doomed him to an eternity of pain and hate from those he wanted to help. Then he found Ion.
SCP-2075: “And Ion held six fingers aloft and upon their spears did the soldiers impale themselves. "For you!" they cried before the blood drowned their tongues. And Ion said, "Now do you see?" And Nadox wept, as more did skewer themselves in Ion's name, for he had seen and now knew the truth of his words.”
SCP-096: Oh God, that’s– ugh. I thought Ion was… Is this– I don’t get it.
SCP-2075: Indeed. This is very unlike our Ozi̮rmok. Why would they demand the suicide of their followers? Perhaps you can tell me.
SCP-096: Maybe… It's like a sort of trust-fall? The soldiers trust them so much that they know Ion’s spears won’t kill them.
SCP-2075: Close. Not only would they not kill them, but Ion would never hurt them at all. This implies that ‘the blood’ that drowns them isn’t theirs, but the Ozi̮rmok’s. To quote Sone Tal, “All that comes from your flesh is sacred, for it contains the knowledge of my words and deeds. The blood cannot forget; it can only learn."
SCP-096: The blood contains Ion's knowledge…? So by ‘drowning’ them, Ion’s… teaching them something? Giving them a part of that knowledge?
SCP-2075: Exactly. At least, that’s my interpretation. Later, Nadox would become the greatest scholar of the Nälkä, and I believe he’s still out there somewhere continuing the work. At that moment, not only does he see the trust the people put in the Grand Karcist, but he witnesses their teachings firsthand.
SCP-2075: Ion despised death, believing that to spill our blood is to feed the Archons of Yaldabaoth. It is no coincidence they named their empire Kalmaktama, the Deathless. They would never ask their followers to sacrifice their lives just to prove a point.
SCP-096: Why is it worded so… ominously then? If I didn't have you here, I'd assume this passage implies we should give up everything for Ion’s glory because they know best.
SCP-2075: I do not know. The texts are incredibly old, what once might have been clear is now more difficult to parse.
SCP-096: What if it's a sort of code? In order to properly harness the power, you have to understand what Ion really meant. And to do that you need to read the scripture as a whole.
SCP-2075: Ah, a test? A way to separate the true believers from the appropriators. Interesting. I've never thought about it that way.
SCP-096: Really? I thought it was kind of obvious.
SCP-2075: Many things are obvious in hindsight, my friend.
SCP-096: Easy for you to say. You’ve never done what I did.
SCP-2075: What makes you think I haven’t killed before?
<Silence on recording.>
SCP-096: You’re not– you don’t–
SCP-2075: What, I don’t look like a murderer? Because I dress nice and speak politely? The skin rarely betrays the blood.
<A sharp breath.>
SCP-096: Who did you kill?
SCP-2075: Years ago, when I still led a flock, we came under attack. My people have always been easy scapegoats, and sometimes the general harassment would grow far more violent. Windows broken by heavy rocks, people beaten in the streets.
SCP-096: Sounds a lot like the Jewish pogroms.
SCP-2075: Yes. We were both religious minorities, and people confused one for the other on more than one occasion. But that’s a different story. I told my flock to barricade themselves in their homes and wait for the winds to calm. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, and I didn’t want to escalate the situation further. Then they put our houses to the torch.
SCP-2075: I knew I could keep myself alive, but most of my people weren’t as skilled as I was. So I reached out with my Halkost, feeling around for the rioters in the streets. I sensed their hearts, beating with the ecstatic rush of violence. They were almost in sync with my own. Then I made them stop, one by one.
SCP-096: You didn’t have a choice.
SCP-2075: Did I not? I could have put them to sleep, or at least killed the worst of them to scare the others. But I was so angry, being forced to endure blow after blow again and again, that I broke. I didn’t feel anything that day. Just relief that they were gone.
SCP-096: Hey, that’s my– why are you smiling?!
SCP-2075: I am wondering if you understand.
SCP-096: I… I think I do.
SCP-096: Tell me about Lovataar. You mentioned she was Ion’s lover?
SCP-2075: Indeed, though as I’ve mentioned the exact relations between the Klavigars and the Ozi̮rmok are difficult to pinpoint. What’s particularly interesting about Lovataar is that she is the only Klavigar who wasn’t a victim of the Daevites in one way or another. Quite the opposite, she was born into the nobility.
SCP-096: Enemies to lovers?
SCP-2075: Precisely. You’re becoming quite the pupil.
SCP-096: It’s a pretty common trope. I’m assuming Lovataar wasn’t a fan of Ion at the beginning, considering they were attempting to destroy her empire.
SCP-2075: Oh she despised them. She would send the finest slave catchers after the Grand Karcist day and night, the bounties doubling every day. When that didn’t work, she began to send whole legions to snuff them out. Eventually, Ion’s curiosity got the better of them, and they snuck into her palace and entered her quarters alone.
SCP-096: Truly a knight in shining armor. Let me guess, she fell in love at first sight?
SCP-2075: We don’t know. It is said the Ozi̮rmok stayed there with her for twelve days, before leaving with Lovataar by their side. She would never return to the Daeva.
SCP-096: So they did enamor her! Called it.
SCP-2075: Am I boring you?
SCP-096: No, no, I was just… hm. I suppose I was expecting more depth? Nadox and Orok were both way more interesting.
SCP-2075: Love can be a very private thing. There is a reason we were not told what transpired on those twelve days and nights. What do you think happened?
SCP-096: They must have talked a lot, there’s not much else to do alone in a room for so long. Other than, well, you know. But somehow she went from pure hatred to unbreakable love, strong enough to make her give up everything she had.
SCP-2075: And?
SCP-096: There are plenty of stories about love turning to hate and vice-versa, but… Did Ion love her back the same way?
SCP-2075: “And Ion looked upon the gift and their heart was moved again, for they knew what great cost Lovataar had borne in the crafting of such a gift. And they bade the celebrants of the great feast to be still, and they spoke to them of her love. It was then that they decreed that the seat would travel with them, wherever they should go, to always remind themself that they led only by the love of those they would lead.”
SCP-096: Awww. They’re cute.
SCP-2075: That is certainly one way to interpret the text.
SCP-096: So Lovataar represents a willing sacrifice, what we’re willing to do for love. Not the blood rituals of the Daevites, but something honest and beautiful.
SCP-2075: That, and a great deal more. But yes, you are correct.
SCP-096: But… It's still so hard. They would never forgive me. I can’t forgive myself. It’s too horrible.
SCP-2075: It will take time. But you’ve already taken the first step, and perhaps even the second. For me, it was only a century later, long after my flock was dispersed, that I allowed myself to feel guilt. But remember, guilt is not the same as shame.
SCP-096: I– Okay. I need time to think.
SCP-2075: Then I shall take my leave.
SCP-096: Wait a minute, did you say a century?
Director Maurice,
Regional Command has been notified of unauthorized cross-testing between the following anomalies:
SCP-096 (Object Class: Euclid)
SCP-2075 (Object Class: Euclid)
You are to cease this testing, revoke SCP-2075’s privileges, and submit yourself for assessment by the Disciplinary Committee, effective immediately. Failure to comply will be met with further disciplinary action.
Note that as per Ethics Committee recommendation, SCP-096 will continue to undergo weekly interview sessions. As the head researcher, Dr. Albert Cronenberg has been selected for this task.
Dr. Albert Cronenberg: Hello, SCP-096.
SCP-096: Who are you? Where’s Varis?
Dr. Albert Cronenberg: My name is Albert. Varis is entering a very busy period right now so I’m afraid she won’t be available for the foreseeable future. She sent me in her stead.
SCP-096: Are you also Nälkä?
Dr. Albert Cronenberg: No.
SCP-096: Oh.
The Beast watched the man carefully. He was tall and bald, clothed in some strange white fabric. He was blindfolded, but she could tell that his eyes were squeezed shut beneath as well. He was deathly afraid of her, his heart pounding like a giant drum. She shuddered.
“What would you like to talk about?” Albert asked.
“Where’s Varis? Is something wrong? Is she sick?”
“No, nothing like that. She’s just… working on something for us.” He lied. Why was he lying? Because he’s scared of me. He thinks that if I knew the truth, I’d hurt him. He thinks I’m dangerous, like a sphinx or a dragon. Is Varis in trouble?
“Who’s ‘us’?”
“Didn’t she tell you? We’re the SCP Foundation. We study anomalous and occult phenomena. Magical artifacts and creatures.” There it was. She was a creature. She shut her eyes and grabbed her head with her hands, her claws digging into the skin. Her breaths came quick and short, her heart aching in her chest. Something crawled over her spine. She tried to push it all away, to focus–
SCP-2075: A few weeks ago, you asked why people didn’t fear Grand Karcist Ion. Now you know. When Nadox looked at them, he saw a savior and a mentor. To Lovataar, Ion was love and beauty. Orok saw them as strength, as courage, and to Saarn they were hope and liberation.
SCP-2075: Only to the Daevites was the Ozi̮rmok a beast of terror. Something to be feared, something to be destroyed at any cost. Never someone. Remember this, and remember why.
Memories came rushing back. Old memories, from before the castle, before everything. Running from a store, shaving and crying in the bathroom, sitting uncomfortably in a classroom. She opened her eyes and looked upon the great hall. The man before her was so small compared to the castle, but they were both jailers. Only one of them was of any significance.
She began to walk, right past the man and towards the pair of giant doors leading outside. The floor writhed beneath her feet, the tiles morphing into a hundred tendrils that lurched at her from all directions. She leaped, claws and teeth sharpening to gleaming blades, and crashed into them in a hurricane of blood and bone. She tore them apart, slicing them to pieces before uprooting them from the floor and tossing them aside. And then she was at the doors.
The flesh pulsed and split as a colossal eye pushed its way forward, its gaze ripping her defenses to crimson shreds until all that remained was a skeleton. A freakishly tall, horrible skeleton, with snake-like arms and heavy shoulders. You will never be more than this. The eye screeched in her mind. Cover yourself in skin and cloth, paint your face and shear your fur, it will not change a thing. You have always been this way. You will always be this way.
“I don't care.” She said, before plunging herself into the pupil.
Varis lay on the bed in her cell and reached out to her Halkost. It was vast but thin, pieces of herself scattered across the four corners of the world. She had never been contained, not by the GRU and not by the Foundation. It was time to show them that.
She reached out to the two nearest pieces, listening through their ears. The two agents were flanking Albert in the containment chamber, as was their duty. She could practically taste his terror at the Halkost's edge. But she wasn't there for him.
Everything went black. The Beast crawled through a miasma of warm nothingness, the old comfort of anonymity caressing her. Then the void opened its eyes. Hundreds of them, glaring red spotlights that shone through the darkness, focusing on her and her alone.
Some were familiar, the mocking eyes of her classmates at prom, the judgemental ones from the store and from her former friends. And of course, the bulging, terrified eyes of the Foundation agents she had slaughtered. Still many more were foreign, curious and methodical ones, though still laced with fear.
And it hurt, it hurt so much. They all saw you. The eyes roiled, their gaze like freezing winds against her bare bones. They know what you are. Frost spread across her skeleton, icicles growing like thorns. But it is not too late. Turn back, and they will stay here. Continue, and they will multiply a thousand thousandfold, until even your wretched bones will shatter like glass in a storm.
It would have been so easy to give in. To turn back crying and hide within her own mind again. But if Ion could defy Yaldabaoth, she could defy herself.
You are not Ion. You are no hero. You are but a child terrified of itself. You are powerless.
No. She had the power. Because there was one pair of eyes that was absent in the maelstrom. And she could hear her voice.
Dr. Albert Cronenberg: Oh-ninety-six, is everything alright?
<Sounds of shifting meat. Something big slams against the wall.>
Dr. Albert Cronenberg: Ninety-six, can you hear me?
<Quickened, heavy breaths. SCP-096 growls loudly before stepping in the direction of the recorder.>
Dr. Albert Cronenberg: Command, I’m ending this interview.
<One pair of footsteps.>
Dr. Albert Cronenberg: Agents? Did you hear me? Come on–
Jacob D. Moore: And to his flock, Ion thus spoke: "I have stepped beyond the Sea of Dreams; stood before the Old Ones within their own desolate domain.
Jonathan Li: I have endured their intolerable gaze across countless eons.
I have seen the infinite dead worlds, murdered death herself. I have read the entrails of our Creator, beheld eternity unfurled.
Dr. Albert Cronenberg: Oh God– Security! We have a breach!
SCP-096: Know that our paradise draws near, and with our own flesh shall we birth it.
The eyes melted to tears at her feet. The doors opened, and she stepped outside, walking past the garden and to the gate. Varis was waiting for her. Two Varises, she realized. The gate opened for her as she approached, the muscles unwinding themselves and falling to the ground.
Jonathan Li: Are you ready?
SCP-096: Yes.
Jacob D. Moore: Then let us step beyond the Sea of Dreams.
<Wet sounds of meat against concrete. Crackling of electricity, grinding of metal. Static.>
Incident Log 096-2075-A
Summary: On the 26th of February 2014, during a routine interview of SCP-096 by Dr. Albert Cronenberg, escorting Agents Jonathan Li and Jacob D. Moore began to show signs of hostile cognitive takeover. Immediately afterward, an amorphous mass of flesh and bone, genetically sourced from the two agents, ruptured the containment cell and carried SCP-096 in the direction of SCP-2075, who was in her own cell at the time. Both anomalies proceeded to breach containment, the mass breaking through Site-66’s eastern external wall before finally coming to a halt. External camera footage revealed SCP-096 to be carrying SCP-2075, moving at a speed of ~300 km/h.
Agents Li and Moore were discovered unconscious but otherwise unharmed within SCP-096’s containment chamber. They were subsequently quarantined and interrogated, though they appeared to possess no memory of the incident. It is theorized that the two were remotely controlled by SCP-2075 during this time via a hitherto unknown ability.
The whereabouts of SCP-096 and SCP-2075 are unknown, the latter discarding her tracking chip 40 kilometers east of Site-66. They have not been sighted since. Recovery of SCP-096 has been designated Alpha priority, and efforts to do so will be led by Dr. Dan ███████.
They sat on a grassy hill, leaning against a great pine tree. Ordinarily, they would be shivering in the cold, but Varis knew a thing or two about raising body temperatures and it was quite comfortable.
“Where will we go?” She asked Varis.
“There are places for people like you and me, within this world and outside it. I will show you, if you want.” The woman replied.
“People like us? You mean Nälkä?”
“I mean magic.”
“Oh.” She watched the sun sink slowly below the horizon, painting the treetops in brilliant gold.
“I’d love that,” she said.
“You are likely to fit in better than I ever will. Even in these circles, being eight hundred years old can be… isolating.”
“We’ll go together,” She promised the Karcist. “Plus, I’m sure there’s an immortal-people lady’s club there somewhere.”
“Ha! You are right. It’s simply been very long since I’ve walked freely like this.”
“What about your Halkost? Your extensions?”
“Exactly as you say. They’re extensions, nothing more. Are you free if your finger is outside the cage?”
“Point taken.”
An owl hooted somewhere. The wind blew pleasantly across their faces, carrying with it the smell of dirt and leaves. “You have been an excellent student, and a good friend,” Varis said, “Infinitely better than the dry lab coats.”
“Come on, Albert wasn’t that bad.”
She chuckled. “No, he’s just a bit of a radish.”
“What?”
“It’s an old expression.”
“I’m pretty sure it isn’t.”
“Regardless, I’ve been meaning to ask, have you remembered your name?”
The other woman stayed quiet for a moment. “No. But… I think I’ll go with Isabelle.”
“A beautiful name.” Varis said, lying down on the ground.
Isabelle smiled. “Thanks. Chose it myself.”
The sky darkened. Varis drifted off to sleep. Isabelle stayed awake for just a little while, watching the stars flickering into existence. Tomorrow, she will see the world.
For the first time, she wasn’t afraid that it would see her back.
