The helicopter hovered barely twenty meters above the ground, its rotors slicing through the air as the wind howled furiously around it. Beneath them, the nightmare known as SCP-096 rampaged across the terrain, its disfigured form a blur of unnatural movement and fury.
From the open bay doors of the helicopter, the task force unleashed everything they had. Rounds of bullets streaked through the air in a desperate attempt to suppress the horror on the ground. It was less a coordinated assault and more a release of raw terror and frustration. Yet, despite the relentless hail of bullets, SCP-096 pressed on, seemingly unaffected.
But not all hope was lost.
James stood steady inside the chopper, unfazed by the chaos. Cradled in his arms was the massive XM500 anti-material rifle. With calm precision, he locked in on his target and pulled the trigger—once, twice, then a third time.
Bang!
Bang!!
Bang!!!
Each bullet slammed into the back of SCP-096's head with terrifying force. These were rounds designed to pierce through steel and concrete like paper. And yet, they failed to penetrate the creature's skull.
Still, the impact was not in vain. With a grotesque shudder, SCP-096 finally stumbled and crashed to the ground, its limbs twitching, seemingly incapacitated.
Just as the team began to exhale in collective relief, the instructor's voice barked over the intercom.
"Quick! Hit that son of a b**ch with the AT-4 HEAT launchers! Blow him to pieces!"
Pssst~
Oink oink~
No sooner had the order been given than several anti-tank missiles streaked through the air, trailing smoke like furious comets. They smashed into SCP-096's prone form.
BOOM!
The resulting explosion sent a towering inferno of flames and smoke into the sky. The shockwave rattled the helicopter violently, nearly flipping it midair.
As the firestorm settled, what remained of SCP-096 was a charred mess, seemingly torn apart by the blast.
"Haha! I've seen these missiles punch through tanks like they were made of tissue paper!" shouted a white soldier with a thick New York accent, his laughter echoing over the radio.
But the relief was premature.
From the smoldering crater, a horrifying sight emerged. SCP-096 began to move again, dragging its broken and mangled body with agonizing slowness—but unmistakable purpose.
The laughter died in the soldier's throat. His eyes widened, his mouth hung open like a choked bird.
Even the live stream audience was stunned into silence.
"Oh my God… it's not dead?"
"What the hell is that thing made of?!"
"Is this some kind of immortal SCP?"
"This is insanity! The Foundation's got literal monsters!"
Back at S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters, Director Nick Fury watched the feed grimly, his one eye narrowing.
He wasn't as fixated on SCP-096's resilience as the others. That level of terror was expected of certain SCPs. No—what concerned him most was the failure in containment protocol.
The task force had clearly prepped for this mission. They'd brought D-class personnel designated as SCP-096-1 to safely trigger containment. Yet… someone else had become the target.
Which begged the question: How?
Fury glanced at the room full of agents and executives. A creeping suspicion took root in his mind.
Could there be a mole in the Foundation?
Meanwhile, back in the field, James remained composed. He kept squeezing the trigger, rhythmically firing shot after shot at SCP-096. Though he couldn't kill it, he had figured out how to stagger it—each bullet slowing its movements just enough to buy them precious seconds.
As he reloaded, James calmly called out over his shoulder, "Have we identified 096-1 yet?"
The instructor growled into his radio, frustration mounting. "Damn it! Why haven't we locked it down yet?!"
Static hissed through the intercom before a voice finally replied.
"The target has been preliminarily confirmed. MTF Tau-1 is en route to assist!"
No sooner had the voice cut out than another came over the frequency.
"This is Tau-1 Osprey airborne. Currently moving [DATA EXPUNGED] toward [DATA EXPUNGED]. Awaiting further instructions."
The talkative soldier scrambled to the surveillance screen and squinted at the data feed.
"The target's heading west... Wait—shit! It just plowed through a semi-truck. I think it's on Interstate-40. The next town's about... a few hundred kilometers away, but it's in the path."
He clicked frantically through the maps, then shouted into the mic.
"All units! MTF EchoRomeo should begin evacuating I-40 immediately! God knows how many cars that thing will tear through!"
Just then, a thunderous sound filled the sky. Eight V-22 Ospreys soared past the helicopter, heading straight toward SCP-096's projected path.
The instructor let out a breath of relief.
"Tau-1's moving in to clear out the civilian zones ahead of SCP-096. If we're lucky, we might prevent a massacre."
The helicopter surged forward at max speed. As they passed over three small towns, the team could see that most of the population had been herded into public squares, all blindfolded.
From below, the faint blare of loudspeakers carried upward.
"The target is entering the area! All units activate SCRAMBLE devices and begin crowd control procedures!"
"Civilians are NOT to remove blindfolds or move from their assigned positions! Anyone who does will be shot! I repeat—"
Watching this, the live stream audience held their collective breath. Everyone already understood how terrifying SCP-096 could be. If even one civilian were to catch a glimpse of its face…
It would be a bloodbath.
Unfortunately, the more one dreads something, the more fate conspires to make it happen.
Sure enough, SCP-096 appeared in the distance, sprinting straight toward the town with frightening intent. It wasn't lost or wandering—it was hunting.
Suddenly—
Bang!
A single gunshot rang out.
It wasn't aimed at SCP-096.
On screen, everyone saw the monster freeze. Even the loudspeakers paused, the audio garbled as chaos erupted.
"...Civilians are NOT to move—shit! Fire! Heavy fire! Identify the shooter!"
The audience watching the stream was stunned.
There, in the scope, was a man—a civilian—his body trembling violently, eyes wide and bloodshot, hands frozen around the pistol.
He had seen it.
James cursed under his breath. He had been too late to stop the man from looking.
SCP-096 began to twitch violently, then let out a gut-wrenching, soul-piercing cry that tore through the square.
"Wuwuwu~Ahhhhhh!!!"
The scream was so intense it drowned out everything else. People clutched their ears and dropped to the ground.
The instructor's face turned ashen. "Damn it! We've got a new 096-1!"
He grabbed the radio.
"Snipers, lock on to potential new SCP-096-1 targets! Kill anyone at risk of triggering it again!"
James's voice crackled through the radio, steady and cold.
"Understood."
"Everyone else," the instructor barked, "prepare for immediate bagging protocol!"
Below, SCP-096 covered its face with its spindly hands, a guttural snarl escaping its exposed, blood-covered mouth. Then, like a beast possessed, it dove into the panicking crowd.
It was like releasing a wolf into a pen of sheep.
People scattered, screaming. Some ripped off their blindfolds in confusion—dooming themselves.
Gunshots thundered through the square. Chaos reigned.
And finally… 096 reached its target.
The middle-aged man—the one who had fired the shot.
In a flurry of motion, SCP-096 tore him apart. The man's scream was cut short as his body was reduced to pulp.
Then… silence.
096 froze again, like a machine entering standby mode after completing its task.
"Now!" the instructor barked. "We can't waste another second!"
He scanned the sky, then looked back at the helicopter.
"Where the hell is James?!"
At that exact moment, a shadow dropped from the open bay.
Thud!
James plummeted like a missile from the helicopter, gripping a large containment bag in his arms. His face was set in grim determination.
The plan was simple.
Bag SCP-096. Or die trying.
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