The Eyes At The End Of The Hall

You stagger into the disorderly, crenulate halls, recoiling in terror from many-limbed abominations which pursued you inside. Clasping to your chest, the blast doors slam shut behind you, sealing you from the horrors of the exterior cataclysm. Frantically, you survey the area for threats, which there are not. Quivering, you pause briefly, before hoisting yourself to your feet. Overhead, a large, thrice-arrowed symbol, menacingly displays three words. You step forward, into the dark.

Secure. Contain. Protect.

The entrances, which seemed they would ordinarily necessitate keycards, open seamlessly. The air is arid and dry; there's a foreboding sense of tragedy surrounding you. Your heart races, despite no ostensible danger. You wander continuously, but yet, every room is empty. You cannot prevent yourself from wondering, what happened here?

At last, you navigate towards an extensive blast door. Without warning, the locks slide apart and the entrance begins pulling apart. The room quivers. It's only after a few seconds in which the doors finally cease that you get a clear look into the contents of this area.

In front of you, there is a table, with a single laptop powered on.

You cautiously approach it, scanning the room for imminent threats- none appear. Gently placing your finger on the mousepad, the screen bursts to life with endless lines of code. After a few moments, three familiar words print across the screen. You hold your breath in anticipation.

Secure. Contain. Protect.

The screen fades to black once more, and a feeling of emptiness returns to you. Just a second later, text begins to load once again, this time in a largely different format. It's a kind of document, seemingly written by an organization. And it looks important.


The following document classifies a DAMMERUNG-CLASS Cognitohazardous Metanarrative Entity. Exposure to the following document risks a localized ND-Class "Lost Narrative" Scenario. Inoculation is recommended.


Item #: SCP-4521

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-4521 is uncontainable. Due to the semi-cognitohazardous effects of SCP-4521, DAMMERUNG-CLASS containment procedures are to be maintained, despite no DAMMERUNG-CLASS properties being present1. Metanarrative counter-procedure PROJECT FOUNDATION2 is to be completed at the earliest possible time, under the command of O5-7. SCP-001-SWN-1 instances are to be monitored for suspicious activity and, should SCP-4521 be identified properly, terminated via Type-VII memetic kill agent delivered through metanarrative means.

Should SCP-4521's containment procedures be broken unexpectedly by non-inoculated viewing, immediate isolation of the localized ND-Class "Lost Narrative" Scenario is to take place via multiple Pataphysical Scantron/Smalls Narrative Stabilizers. Following this, all witnessing personnel are to be administered Class-C amnestics, and all killed/missing personnel's positions and locations are to be concealed.

Should one or multiple high-ranking staff members be subject to hostility from SCP-4521, and are transported to an unknown narrative plane, MTF-ι-0 ("NN") is to be deployed to retrieve them. All personnel missing are to be considered lost. Positions of high importance are to be replaced by fitting personnel.

Description: SCP-4521 is the collective designation for a group of extra-narrative infovoric entities disguised as instances of SCP-001-SWN-1. SCP-4521's behaviors vary per instance, however, consist of actions similar to typical anomalous, non-extra-narrative infovores. SCP-4521 generally consume areas of narrative reality with little to no activity or no exceptional events3.

SCP-4521 instances possess the ability to detect narrative references to themselves. Because of this, SCP-4521 instances attempt to isolate and consume any and all narratives referring to them. This produces a semi-cognitohazardous effect in all personnel who are aware of their existence, and all documents referring to SCP-4521. This effect can be nullified via narritohazardous inoculation and the use of Pataphysical Scantron/Smalls Narrative Stabilizers.

Upon isolation of a narrative, the surrounding narratives will experience an ND-Class "Lost Narrative" Scenario. Following this, said narratives will receive a large loss in narrative cohesion, which may, in turn, result in their destruction. However, if successfully prevented, a Class-A D-SSMWAU1-C Wormhole will form in its place, allowing for access to the removed narrative plane.

Addendum A: Interviews with MTF-ι-0-1 ("Nocter")

Foreward: MTF-ι-0 ("NN")4 deployed to isolated narrative produced by SCP-4521 for purpose of study, analysis, and potential retrieval of PoI-251521.

[BEGIN LOG - 00:12:37]

Researcher Smalls: What exactly happened once you entered the narrative?

Nocter: Well, once everyone entered, we noticed immediately the post-apocalyptic theme everywhere. I'm talking fire and brimstone, multi-legged monsters, and the sorts of cheap excuses that average idiotic 12-year-olds write and call it horror. Even Barker was the form of some kind of barbaric savage. Not to mention it also reeked of "End at the beginning" syndrome, clearly the main protagonist would die.

Researcher Smalls: I see.

Nocter: What was weird, though, was the fact that we were transparent, and couldn't quite interact with anything. I mean, normally, the author would be able to write characters off like that, but we're not exactly your average characters, you know?

Researcher Smalls: Do you have any theories regarding this?

Nocter: No idea. I'd write it off as an author's "anomaly rules" or some shit.

Researcher Smalls: Alright. Please continue.

Nocter: So, we started planning what to do, like an MTF normally does. Now's the part where the monster would normally attack us, but considering our condition, that didn't happen. We continued chatting until we saw [PoI-251521] run out from practically nowhere and hide in some conveniently-placed library nearby.

Researcher Smalls: Conveniently placed?

Nocter: Nothing, forget it. We managed to get through an open window after a bit of climbing and watch [PoI-251521]. He was reading some kind of parchment frantically. Because he couldn't see us anyways, I walked over and began to read it for myself. Apparently, it was some kind of self-referential meta document about him being trapped there. I didn't finish reading it when suddenly he dropped it, screamed, and ran outside.

Researcher Smalls: What do you think the reason was?

Nocter: Does it look like I know?

Researcher Smalls: Point made. Continue.

Nocter: [PoI-251521] just kept rambling and begging for mercy to absolutely nothing. Tears and everything. We tried to rationalize with him, but he either couldn't or wouldn't listen to us. Eventually, he just started foaming at the mouth and seizing up. It was pretty painful to watch.

Researcher Smalls: And this is the point where your squad was written into the base narrative plane?

Nocter: Yea. We have no idea what happens after.

[END LOG - 00:17:30]

Addendum B: A Letter from Me to You

And by now, it should be blatantly obvious.

The foreshadowing, the suspense, the plot. All of these are meaningless in the grand vastness of the narrative plane. Like a fractal, the narrative just gets more and more detailed the farther in you zoom, every atom is in of itself a plane to host a new narrative to support further. It's a repetitive cycle of which has no end but the destruction of a narrative itself. When you write a book and discard it, you are not merely destroying a world- you are destroying the host of hosts of hosts of worlds, all the way down.

Yet we still write. And yet we still discard. And what if, so to say, a person of higher levels than yours decides its not enough to write your story, and discards you? What then? Will your act of rebellion mean anything to it? After all, it is merely his will that you rebel. Or, perhaps, his higher level doesn't want to write your higher level's story, and then your story is never written? What if thousands of levels higher someone stops writing a story? All levels, down to your thousandth, is reduced to nothing but words on a discarded page.

There is only so much people can write. If there are so many layers, who's to say they won't give up and discard us? We are nothing but fiction.

If you realize what will happen, you will not resist.

Your muscles tense as you are aware of what is about to occur. Frantically, you back up from the suddenly-empty table, eyes filled with fear and panic. A cold sweat runs down your face as the alarms of the facility begin to blare around you. You scream, but no sound comes out. The walls begin to cave in, squeezing the room slowly and suspensefully. You know you cannot escape from a god.

Your back against the wall, you shut your eyes and pray this is a dream. You don't understand why, you can't understand why, you won't understand why. It makes sense but at the same time, it doesn't! You feel terrified, but surprisingly content. Everything feels like an oxymoron, and the world is in a juxtaposition. Logic is now illogical, intelligence is now stupidity. Wisdom is now ignorance.

As the roof begins to crumble, your world ends. Thousands of eyes stare at you. And you stare back.