SCP - 023 "Black Shuck"
Object Class - Euclid
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Site ██, SCP-023 Containment Corridor – 21:00 Hours
Officer Lena Carter adjusted her flashlight, its beam cutting through the dim hallway. Beside her, Sergeant Marcus Holt checked the rubber eye inserts in his toolkit.
"Remember," Holt said, voice low, "replace the left insert first. If the glow breaches twelve candela, we have twelve hours. And don't look up."
Lena nodded, her grip tightening on the door handle. "What happens if the inserts fail?"
Holt's jaw tightened. "It phases through the walls. Finds a crossroads. And people die."
The containment door hissed open. SCP-023 lay motionless in the center of the intersection, its massive black form blending into the shadows. The rubber spheres in its eye sockets pulsed faintly, like embers in ash.
Lena knelt, her hands steady as she pried out the left insert. The moment it loosened, a sliver of orange-red light seeped through. The air grew hot, smelling of burnt hair.
"Hurry," Holt whispered.
She slid the new insert into place, but the right eye's sphere crumbled in her glove. The glow intensified, casting long, flickering shadows.
"Twelve candela," Holt muttered, checking his meter. "We're at thirteen. Clock's ticking."
As they retreated, Lena glanced back. For a split second, the rubber shifted—and the eye beneath stared directly at her.
03:00 Hours
The alarm blared. "Containment breach! SCP-023 has phased through the eastern wall!"
Lena sprinted down the corridor, her pulse roaring. Around the corner, SCP-023 stood at a four-way junction, its eyes now fully exposed. A junior guard, transfixed, locked gazes with the creature.
"NO!" Lena tackled him, but it was too late. The guard collapsed, screaming as his skin blackened.
Holt arrived, flamethrower in hand. "It's heading for the main intersection! If it reaches the surface—"
"We can't let it," Lena said, voice shaking. "I… I made eye contact earlier."
Holt froze. "Then you've got a year. Maybe less. Focus on now."
They cornered SCP-023 in a storage room. The canine growled, eyes blazing. Holt aimed the flamethrower. "We need to drive it back to containment!"
Lena grabbed a steel pipe, her hands blistering from the heat. "It won't stop until it's at a crossroads. We have to trap it!"
The creature lunged. Holt fired, flames engulfing its fur—but SCP-023 phased through the wall, leaving scorch marks.
"Follow it!" Lena yelled.
They chased it to a basement intersection, where SCP-023 settled, eyes dimming. Holt replaced the inserts, his hands steady.
"Why here?" Lena panted.
"Crossroads are its anchor," Holt said. "Its prison. And its power."
One Week Later
Lena sat in the infirmary, a photo of her sister in her hand. Dr. Ellis entered, avoiding her gaze.
"The guard who looked at it died this morning," he said. "Ash filled his lungs."
Lena stared at the security feed—SCP-023, motionless again. "How long do I have?"
"If it follows pattern? A year. But it's random. You or your family."
She stood, resolve hardening. "Then I'll make sure it stays contained. Even if I'm counting days."
Epilogue
In the shadows of the crossroads, SCP-023's eyes flickered. Somewhere, a clock ticked.