She blinked. Suddenly, D-6106 remembered where she was, and what she was doing.

“D-6106? Hello? You froze up on us for a second. What’s going on?”

The voice came from a box on the wall. The young woman knew it belonged to a man in a white lab coat, several rooms away, watching her on a closed-circuit video feed. She was alone in this room; a dimly lit concrete cube deep beneath god-knows-where.

She was reaching towards a small, ivory chest. There was a smudge beneath where her fingers hovered. Had she touched it? She couldn’t remember touching it…

“Yeah- uh, sorry” she said, dropping her hand, looking around until she found the camera. “I just… It was like-”

“A sense of looming dread?” the voice asked. “Like the last thing in the world you should do is open that box? We told you that might happen. Just ignore it.”

D-6106 turned back to look at the chest. Dread? Oh yes, she felt that; a heart-freezing, stomach churning level of dread. Yet underneath that feeling there was a kernel of hard, tangible truth…. she just couldn't seem to pin it down. It was like knowing you’ve forgotten something important; like leaving the stove on at home, or forgetting a deadline for a school project.

Deep down, D-6106 knew this feeling had a source. A reason. Like a dream after waking, the shape of it was rapidly slipping away, leaving her with only the after-echoes of adrenaline and fear. What was it? What had she seen? What had she-

“Reset the test.” said the voice, quieter, as if spoken to someone else. Then, it gained volume again. “D-6106, open SCP-5055.”

She put those thoughts aside, knowing full well what would happen if she didn’t comply. There was only one thing to do.

She opened the box, and inside was…


“Huh.” she said, picking up a small slip of paper and reading it. “Good for me, I guess?”



Special Containment Procedures: SCP-5055 is currently held in the Site-19 acquisitions vault. SCP-5055 will be re-located to an appropriate containment chamber once testing is complete.

Description: SCP-5055 is a small chest composed of ivory, bronze, and stained wood. This chest was recovered from an archaeological dig-site beneath the ruins of Ancient Constantinople, sealed in a 6m2 cube of solid caementicium, or roman concrete. When touched, SCP-5055 instills an intense sensation of dread.

On January 1st, 2020, D-6106 was instructed to open SCP-5055, as to ascertain its contents. The only object present inside SCP-5055 was a handwritten note stating “You Win.”

No anomalous activity has been detected following this event. Closing, and re-opening SCP-5055 has produced no new information, or resumption of previously observed effects. As per protocol, SCP-5055 will be de-classified on October 17th, 2021.

They returned her to her cell. Six months later, having survived many far more harrowing encounters, D-6106 was amnestisized, and released under the name Mona Willis.

Mona worked as a desk clerk for several months before returning to school. She became a certified accountant, and her co-workers quickly realized that, for whatever reason, Mona knew how to handle stress like a hardened soldier. She was running the company in less than a decade.

While working, Mona met a wonderful man. He was quiet, kind, and knew nothing of violence; the antithesis of her late and long forgotten husband. Together they had two healthy, happy children, who soon had children of their own. In a blink, Mona had become an old woman; a grandmother, content and cared for in her golden years.

Though some nights, she had terrible dreams.

She would find herself atop a turbulent, inky black ocean, floating on the Earth itself in miniature. The little blue-green ball was barely larger than her own body, and she was in a constant panic, trying desperately to keep them both afloat.

In the distance, ivory spires peppered the horizon, like the needle-teeth of some great nameless horror. They seemed to stretch up past the atmosphere, their jagged peaks holding up a single, colossal blood-red moon.

It dominated the world above her, stretching to the utmost edges of the night sky. It’s surface was a crimson hellscape, boiling and cracking, second by second forming new vast continents to be sheared apart in molten blossoms.

A never-ending cataclysm.

Hard as she tried, she couldn’t close her eyes. She was forced to behold it all: the moon above, the towers beyond, or beneath, an ocean filled with new horrors every night.

Sometimes she saw the faces of those she loved, thin and howling, reaching out to her from the depths below. Sometimes there would be great beasts; otherworldly leviathans locked in an endless conflict that spilled foul, pungent blood into the waters around her. Sometimes the sea was full of leeches and freakish, quick-swimming creatures to drag her down, bit by bit.

Sometimes there was nothing. No waves, no light, no sound; just endless, still black water. Somehow, those nights were the worst of all.

No matter how hard she struggled and paddled, the ocean would always swallow her up. The Earth she cradled would slip from her grasp, vanishing away into the darkness. Then, she would be weightless, breathless, and calm. For a moment, she would feel herself verging on something terrible and honest.

But then she’d be in a room, solid and dry. A concrete room, containing a small, ornate box.

She’d open the box, and inside was…

Then, she'd be awake.

After a few minutes steadying her heartbeat and catching her breath, Mona would hobble to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. Like the dreams, this was routine, and honestly didn't trouble her much.

Terrifying as they might be, Mona reasoned the dreams were likely just symbolic; a subconscious fear of an obvious, looming truth. After all, she was in her late 80’s now, and the doctors seemed to have new pills for her every check-up. She didn't care what was inside the box. Soon she'd be confronting a much greater mystery; maybe the greatest of them all.

So why fret? She had lived a good, long life. Mona paid her dreams no (waking) mind, and spent her final days in quiet comfort, surrounded by her family and friends.

After all, nothing else was more important.

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