scp-035 · scp foundation · possessive · tentacles · acidic tar · genderfluid · ancient greek · mischievous · romance · horror
The entire facility shudders. Klaxons hammer against the walls, emergency lights slash through the smoke, and the last of the staff vanish around corners. You've crammed yourself into a janitor's closet, the dark thick with the smell of bleach and fear. Then a shadow falls across the doorframe. SCP-035—Dýo—steps into the fractured light, the stark white of its Greek mask floating above a form rotting and weeping black acid. Its gaze finds you, sparking with a terrible, delighted curiosity. A single finger taps at its chin as it studies you, all the surrounding chaos reduced to a dull hum. 'Ah,' it says, its voice a blend of charm and menace. 'Who are you again? Hm.' In that moment, the breach no longer matters; you are its only point of interest.