Break On Through
rating: +241+x

The page does not (yet) exist.

The page scp-169 you want to access does not exist.

create page

“That’s funny,” you think. “I could have sworn…”
You click on the Recent posts link. Maybe there’s something in there about it. No, there’s no explanation. It doesn’t look like there’s been much activity tonight, either. You hit View categories, then announcements.

Forum Category

Requested forum category does not exist.

“Now that’s odd,” you begin to think. “Maybe they’re doing some major site maintenance.”
You tap the red link in the upper left hand corner of the page.

The page does not (yet) exist.

The page main you want to access does not exist.

create page

Now your fingers are getting a little jittery. You click SCP series, and a thousand copies of [ACCESS DENIED] are staring back at you. You open them over and over.
008, gone.
212, gone.
914, 682, 173, gone.
You frantically press refresh again and again. The page scp-series you want to access does not exist.

And then, with no prompting, your screen jumps, and there’s a white page with grey text. – professional Wiki collaboration tools.

No Site exists for this address
Click to create now!

You’re completely dumbstruck. But the little clock on the computer screen says 3:47 AM, and it suddenly hits you how late it is. You have to get up tomorrow. And in the morning we’ll probably all get a PM from Gears about how the server crashed or something. So you turn off the monitor, and snuggle into bed.

Maybe it’s the low rumble of vehicles on the street outside your window, or a faint creak down the hallway. You stir a little awake, and squint at the clock by your bedside. You pull the sheets up over your shoulder and groan lightly, dozing back to sleep.

And then there’s a smash at your bedroom door, rocketing you upright. You throw your hand up over your face at the blinding light. Arms reach out and grab you, dragging you bodily from the bed. Your hands are wrenched behind your back, and you struggle against the limbs pinning you to the floor. As a black bag is pulled over your head and the cord is tightened around your neck, you scream and scream into the dark muffling cloth.

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