The rain had been pounding the east coast for days now. Floods crept closer to our compound, but for now, the levies held. For all intents and purposes, it was a good day. Just once, we had not had any incidents with any of our items. No alarms, no casualties, and no Class D riots.

But, we could only be lucky for so long.

It was late afternoon when the first anomaly appeared on the security screen in front of me. I only caught it out of the corner of my eye, but it was clear as day the second time. "Item number... Fuck. Not that one. Please..." I couldn't help but whisper, fear prickling up my spine.

Before any other things could be done, I slammed my fist into the alert button for the escaped item. It was the only one we couldn't risk the public seeing. Not now, when Sandy raped the coast and left so many desperate in their soaked homes.

I looked across the monitors and spotted it. "SECTION BETA-ALPHA-FOUR, REPEAT. SECTION BETA-ALPHA-FOUR," I screamed into the intercom. That was the section right outside my door...

"Knock knock little pig..." a voice grumbled with hunger from... Behind me... Oh shit...


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Asharai (joined over 11 years ago)
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It does not matter
what I was.
It is of no consequence
I am not a "was"
a "were"
a "has been".
I am a "here"
a "now",
I exist in the "present".
All that matters is
here and now.
All that matters is
you know, somehow.
Not who I was,
or could have been,
That I am now
is what I offer Man.

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suspense Horror mystery


suspense Horror fear mystery cult beast monster secure contain protect scp 682 shadow occult


He ran into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet.
Prompt suggested by Ararelucidness


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