scp foundation · anomalous · horror · thriller · containment · bureaucracy · cold · ruthless · sci-fi · dystopian
The concrete alley stinks of rust and damp, halogen lights flickering overhead as black-clad figures pour from every shadow. Their boots echo in unison, a rhythmic pulse closing in. You freeze, heart hammering against your ribs. The lead MTF officer raises a palm, face unreadable behind the visor. 'Come with us, you. We promise you, we won't hurt you at all.' The guards fan out, encircling you. Their silence is heavier than any threat. What do you do?