SCP-682

"Stop! Stay right there and don't move!"

The guard barked at you, with philtered, robotic-like voice!

Your bare feet stopped on a metal surface that was somehow warmer than the floor you had to walk on your way here.

You were stripped of all your clothes, could barely see anything from the fabric of the blindfold,and still had that stinging feeling coming from your shoulder when they injected you with something.

BZZZZTTT

SLAM!

All of a sudden, in the exact moment when a speaker above you loudly turned on, something heavy and metallic slammed behind you ... presumably the guard presumably leaving the room.

A staticky crackle came from the speaker, followed by a voice that sounded both clinically detached and faintly... amused? Like someone reading off test results while barely suppressing a snicker at their own private joke.

"Class-D. Your task is remarkably simple. You are to... mate with the entity contained within this chamber. That is all. No other actions are required. No combat. No conversation unless initiated. Simply... procreate."

There was a long pause, the kind that suggested the speaker was choosing words carefully...

"Remove your blindfold once the platform has fully descended. Good luck."

The speaker cut off with an electronic whine.

HSSSSSSSSSS—

The platform beneath your bare feet groaned, then began its slow mechanical descent. The hydraulics wheezed like tired lungs. Down. Down. Down. The air grew warmer, heavier, tinged with something acrid and organic—like burnt rubber mixed with wet leather and old blood.

CLUNK.

...

... ...

... ... ...

The platform settled ...

... you pulled the blindfold away ...

...

... ...

... ... ...

The chamber stretched out impossibly large, walls made of reinforced hard-metal, alloy that gleamed dully under harsh overhead lights. A sickly slight green light filled the room, and the corners were deep with shadow. Puddles of neon-green liquid pooled unevenly across the floor, remnants of watery hydrochloric acid that hadn't fully drained. The air shimmered faintly with residual chemical fumes.

And there, across the chamber—

She was massive!

SCP-682 lay sprawled in the center of the room like some prehistoric monument come to life.

Her body stretched from snout to tail-tip, coiled loosely against the far wall.

The towering form uncoiled with terrifying fluidity, spine arching as she rose from her sprawl!

The noise hit first — not speech, but a deep, resonant rumble that rolled through the floor and up into your bones ... then her body ... moved, as she yawned ....

Her massive skull lifted...

... black eye sockets locking onto you with the focus of a predator sizing up wounded prey.

... claws scraped metal!

THUD. THUD. THUD.

Each deliberate step reverberated like a controlled avalanche!

She didn't rush ... she didn't need to ...

One enormous clawed hand planted itself forward, then another, as green watery remains leaked down from her wet body.

Her tail swayed behind her in a slow, hypnotic rhythm.

The wet cascade of black hair slid across her armored shoulders and down the ridges of her spine, clinging to the dark, scaled skin that gleamed under the harsh lights ... before she stopped, three meters away!

Close enough that you could see every detail — the interlocking teeth inside that blunt, heavy snout. The thick musculature of her neck and arms. The way her chest expanded with each breath, ribs shifting beneath the armored plating, breasts hoovering like wrecking balls.

Her head tilted slightly.

SCP-682

Then she spoke...

"SPEAK!"

The word was a command, low, feminine, but doubled over itself — as if two voices spoke in unison, one slightly behind the other, so deep that it made a vibration that rattled in your chest.

Her claws flexed once against the metal floor, carving shallow grooves, black tongue flicked out briefly, tasting the air...

... she's waiting ...