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I rarely dream.

When I sink into the pillow and Angelique's scent washes over me, all I ever recall is that surreal feeling of floating before falling unconscious into blackness. I

appreciate those moments of peace from my own thoughts.

When I do dream, it's always the same. I rise from the bed, it is dark. I walk across the room to the bathroom, with a strange pressure sometimes a tickling sensation

in my abdomen. The floor of the bathroom is ice cold against my footpads. I reach for the light switch with one hand, and run the other over my stomach. I jerk it away

as my skin feels strange, and there is a warm sticky substance on my fingertips.

The light comes on and I see the cause. Under my right arm, down my side, holes. Round shallow holes in my skin, raw wounds, oozing a clear liquid, matting in my fur.

In this dream I am not afraid, even as I see things writhing beneath my skin. I know that they are rising from my womb, in my dream this is logical. I lift my arm over

my head and the holes stretch and distort. I run my fingertips over it, there is a stinging sensation. I press my fingertips into them and the stinging becomes more

intense but not unpleasant, a burning warm sensation begins to radiate all across my side.

It's only when I feel movement right beneath my finger I jerk my hand away. The pressure released sends a jolt of pain across my body. My fur stands on end. I cannot

look away from these holes even as the movement beneath my skin becomes more intense. My flesh is bulging from the pressure just below its surface.

I cannot look away.

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Though I usually reserve my note taking for my medical endeavors, but I feel I need to record tonight’s experience, as it may be significant to said endeavors. I am not

one to believe in premonition, but the sensation I am experiencing is nothing short of panic, induced by of all things, a dream.

I rarely dream, save for one or two strange recurring ones. I had spent the weekend moving some of Angelique’s belongings into the house, she is quite the scatterbrain,

(though I mean that in the most endearing way) and I discovered quite recently she had a storage unit in her name which was defaulting on the payments. Scatterbrained,

as I said.

After balancing the account I gained access, and I discovered a number of boxes, old school books, nick-knacks and most curiously a box of personal records. These are

as I write this next to me in my study. I will admit my curiosity is overwhelming but I respect Angelique’s privacy, she is quite reserved about her family and her

history. Still... it is like an itch in the back of my mind.

After a glass of wine I had headed to bed, tired from moving around boxes and cleaning out the storage shed. I fell asleep quickly, the sound of light rain on the roof

and Angelique’s scent on my skin.

And then I began to dream. In the dream the world was enormous, and I was a tiny spec, no bigger than your index finger. I recall in the logic of the dream I questioned

this and some force assured me I was not a micro-fauna, the world was simply much larger than me. Curious, how our subconscious rationalizes such nonsense. I was

walking along a table, cold underfoot, like stainless steel. It was dark and the reek of chemicals and bleach was heavy in the air.

I could hear heavy vibration, incredibly deep and loud, it made the ground shake beneath me. When I looked up I could see figures, their faces obscured as they towered

above me, only the reflection of their spectacles gleaming in my direction. They are talking and gesturing but I cant understand, the air just vibrates and hums in a

frequency I cant process. They feel familiar, and I am scared, scared because they are so much larger with so much power over me.

I run and become unable to move, standing atop a silver flat plate. It is linked to a number of colorful wires and I feel drained. In the dream I knew they were taking

my blood, all of it, draining from my frame. I can see numbers and analytics in garbled numerals on the walls. I turn to see one of the figures shake his head, and I

know he sees my thoughts. I cry out as he strikes a button on the wall.

There is a split second that follows that lasts an eternity. I seem to view it from outside my body seeing every terrible detail. My body unravels, my skin flays from

flesh in elegant spirals, stretching and tearing, falling from my body as easily as a virgins gown on her wedding night. My tendons snap, every fibers of muscle tearing

and springing back from the bone, their tensile strength lost. My abdomen opens, and my innards pour out exposed and twisting apart. I feel my cells distorting, I feel

my genes betray me, I feel my double helixes come undone, base pairs rejecting one another in a beautiful, terrible moment. I hear their laughter, and I am helpless.

I awoke drenched in sweat, clutching at my wrists, where the flesh first began to flay away. My heart has only just stopped its panicked pace. I do not believe in

premonition, but this dream reminds me of a quest long abandoned. A plan I failed to follow up on, distracted in my romance and my work from my true goals. I will find

those figures from my dream, I remember their names even now. I will find each and every one and make sure they are never able to turn my genes against me...

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Journal extract from Junior Researcher Dr Sandra Walker, regarding incident 141

“My proposals for further investigating SCP-939’s reproductive abilities have been constantly denied by the facility and supervising researchers. Because of this fact I have to carry out my research in secret.

I have an anonymous other who will aid in my secret research and will buy me time and resources under the guise of another accepted proposal involving 939. The only issue is that I will have to utilise my own body in this experiment as D-class personnel are not listed in the approved proposal.

My testing will involve SCP-939-141, a human reared 939 instance which was born and raised in Site95 and remains in containment for testing purposes.

939-141 has shown to be largely compliant in many experiments and procedures involving them, mostly with zero signs of aggression or hostility.

For the context of my experiment, I will state that SCP-939 instances share 90% of their genomes with the Neanderthal (Homo neanderthalensis). While humans shared a common ancestor with the Neanderthal and have been reported to have interbred with these Neanderthal cousins.

Neanderthals were believed to have gone extinct while Humans evidently did not.

During their infant stages instances of 939 appear as normal Human infants, completely indistinguishable from actual Human infants. This changes later in childhood when they metamorphize into 939 instances.

I believe 939 instances are mutations of Neanderthals which have regressed into more primitive forms in order to survive in their hostile world. The other adaptations of 939, I cannot comment on.

My experiment will be to interbred Human and 939 together and research the offspring which develops from this interbreeding. As noted earlier, I had expected to use D-class personal for this experiment, but with that now extremely unlikely, I must use my own body to produce this offspring.

During the ovulation of female 939 instances, their genitals will produce a thick liquid, this liquid contains sex pheromones which the male 939 instances will detect through their advanced olfactory systems. This triggers the two sexes to reproduce, resulting in the female’s impregnation and eventual birthing 12 months later.

I planned the date of the experiment in accordance to that of my own menstrual cycle, ensuring that if interbreeding was possible to achieve, this would be the most likely time to achieve it.

When the day of the experiment came, I was a rack of nerves, but the answers were needed.

I was dressed down as I covered my crotch and vagina in the sex pheromones of the female 939, ready for the experiment to begin.

The handler brought 939-141 into the testing area and released it from the harness system. The handler then stood back with camera in one hand and a tranquiliser pistol in the other.

I got down onto my hands and knees as 939-141 walked towards my face, dagger like teeth inches away from me. I could feel myself shaking, being this close to death didn’t feel smart nor breath.

939-141 didn’t stay facing me for long, something more interesting caught their attention as they walked around to my backside.

I could feel their warm breath patting against my backside before feeling that warmth inch downwards. I looked back at 939-141 as I could see their genitals growing and erecting at the scent of the sex pheromones.

I looked to the handler for a sign of reassurance, one I would not see as they seemed more interested on documenting with the camera than aiming with the tranquiliser which was now lying on the table beside them.

My annoyance was quickly broken by a sharp stabbing pain as 939-141 quickly and roughly forced their erect member inside of me.

Hands either side of me, planted firmly on the floor as they began to thrust. Their size was large, but not unwieldy, they kept a consistent tempo and rhythm for their thrusts. Their stamina persisted as did their tempo, hearing the panting I turned my head to the side to see this large head looming over my shoulder.

I had never been one to have gotten much joy or pleasure out of sex previously, but this time was different, there was enough consistency throughout to the point where I started to become overwhelmed with the pleasure I was feeling.

The experiment continued as time had escaped me, breathing in 939-141’s breath had caused me to enter a headspace unbenounced to me. The hands of the clock began to melt as time drifted by.

The stamina shown by 939-141 was remarkable. I soon found myself fatigued, my knees, thighs and arms began to weaken, I was ready to finish.

The tempo finally finished me as my body began to spasm slightly, I could feel myself clenching around the erect member of 939-141, an act I think caused him to break tempo and begin to ejaculate. The warmth very quickly began to flood through my body, tingling, feelings of euphoria, accompanied by light headedness.

The panting stopped as I could feel 939-141 pulling out and sliding backwards in the room. I looked up to the handler with a worn, tired face, he knew that the experiment had finished as he began to approach 939-141.

I looked back to 939-141 as the harness system was replaced. I kissed them on the forehead before they were led out of the room.

I weakly got to my feet using the table beside me as an assistance. Looking at the clock who had gotten their hands back, I was mortified by the time. Two hours of non-stop thrusting, I was understandably sore and tired. Then I felt it, the warm wet feeling running down my inner thigh.

I looked down to the floor and saw to the small pool of 939-141’s semen, the pool only being fed by that running down my thigh to the floor.

I looked around for something to clean myself with, I found the perfect thing. The denied proposal for this experiment. Using it to clean up with gave me some smug glee, I will not lie.

With hope, the dye has been cast and my egg should be fertilised by 939-141, if it is, then it will be a 12 month wait until my experiment can continue.

If not, then I see no harm in repeating this experiment for another attempt at fertilisation.”


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1.
Over the last five days an extraordinary series of events took place, the likes of which I nor my colleagues would ever have anticipated. Helping Hands was one of the first facilities hit, but it wasn't until the 3rd day that the story made its way all over the international news and it all started to fall into place what was really happening.

On the first day a young buck rabbit staggered into the emergency room and collapsed. He was malnourished and skinny, with a weeping wound freshly cut into his chest, 'FUCK VERMIN' it read. His body was riddled with tumors and cysts, and his fur was falling out with barely a touch from the nurses. He had acute conjunctivitis in both eyes rendering him near blind, and his breathing was painful and labored, his chest made a horrible rattling noise on each breath.

The E.R. doctor on call scheduled tests on the tumorous lumps and started him on a course of antibiotics to help clear his lungs of infection. It was assumed at the time he was a kidnap victim of a gang, or perhaps an underground sex trafficking operation, dumped when he became too sick to manage. When he was stabilized he was moved to a new ward under the direct care of Doctor Levoski a middle aged hare and a specialist in rodent and herbivore diagnostic medicine. The hospital usually tries to make patients more comfortable by assigning a doctor of similar species, many sick herbivores find themselves unduly stressed in the care of a predator.

One the second day Levoski came to my office with a blood workup on the patient. He had been screened for all the usual diseases and viruses and kept coming up with false positives. Meanwhile their condition continued to decline and he was unable to communicate with us as to his identity, so we had no family history or any way to find his relatives. I agreed to assist the doctor in further analysis of the blood work, as he was convinced it was a virus of some sort and needed my labs resources.

On the third day came the news reports. In densely populated regions all over the country rabbits, mice, rats, and a handful of other species had turned up out of nowhere showing signs of the virus, the same vile words carved into different parts of their bodies. The news ticker scrolled along all day as each one was identified, each reported as a missing person nearly a year or more before, the most recent being 6 months. Our patient continued to deteriorate, all treatments basically rendered ineffective against the mystery ailment. Levoski complained the sudden explosion in the breadth of the case was giving him headaches.

On the 4th day the hysteria had set in through the media, with reports playing all day. We worked with our research staff to isolate the proteins in the samples we had. When we finally identified it, it all felt so obvious. Myxy, the myxomatosis virus, responsible for nearly wiping out populations of feral European rabbits in the 50's and used in Australia on the wild populations there. It had never been known to cross the species gap before, which was why we didn't screen for it in the first place. But the symptoms fit, and they were fatal.

The virus we were seeing was mutated, with large amounts of junk proteins as though it had been deliberately tampered with. It was more efficient, virulent and resistant to treatment. The phrase “Fuck vermin” rang in the back of my mind...a weaponised myxy virus, targeting a wider species spectrum? Levoski must have had the same thought as I did, his eyes went wide and he stared at his hands. I imagine he was realizing he himself had been directly exposed, and his eyes were looking a little bloodshot... We called the Centre for Disease Control and locked down the ward, taking decontamination showers and antivirals immediately.

On the 5th day Levoski didn't come in to work. I worked alone and made my notes from the samples we had. In private I couldn't help but admire the elegance of the manufactured proteins, and ended up lost in thought on the motivations of such a large scale attack. I closed up the lab and dropped off the files in my office before making my way out of the ward.

It was only when I heard the shrieking of the patient in the halls in front of me, far from the locked down ward he was meant to be housed, and saw the bright yellow flash of the quarantine suit clad CDC workers dragging him from the room, that I snapped to reality. I could not see faces, only the blank reflective masks as they rounded on me. A quick glance to one another and they made a run for the door dragging the buck with them, his tumors rupturing horribly as he struggled in blind terror. They kicked in the emergency exit where more men waited by an unmarked vehicle, the doors slammed before I was able to see what became of him.

The alarms in the facility began to ring and I heard footsteps behind me. I rushed back to my office today to find it in disarray with my most recent research gone, my computer, files and all the notes Doctor Levoski and I had taken gone, I was left only with this very tape recorder which I always keep safely hidden.

I checked his office too and I saw it was also bare, as though the papers were never there at all.

I made my way to the lab down in the research wing, as I expected the the fridges are empty and all our samples missing. They have taken everything, this is unacce--

*Click*

I...Jack Lancaster caught me in the hallway after I found the fridges emptied. I could smell that fetid komodo dragon drool before he entered the room, just as well, managed to hide the recorder before he saw it. He's on the board, a rep from Lazaurochs Pharma, the hospitals parent company. He pushed me back into a seat and told me to let it go. Laz has it under control and the CDC took the samples for more 'thorough' analysis. When I made protest he just smiled, and leaned in close, his tongue grazing my muzzle.

'Keep your mouth shut Evelyn, and Laz will take care of everything. Be a good girl… or I might just let slip exactly what it is you get up to around here...'
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2.
I did not go to work today. My mind is too caught up in recent events and I was unable to sleep until the wee hours. Angelique stayed up with me and stroked my hair til my heart finally stopped racing.

In the late morning hours I went to the garden looking for Serendipity, as I had not seen her for a few days. She's been spending the last few weeks in our home terrorizing the small micro-fauna colony near the back of the property bordering the forest and I was frequently gifted with trophies and offerings in my shoes.

The weather is becoming warm and pleasant again, with the sun rising high no longer obscured behind a wall of grey clouds. It was in this warm sunlight I spotted a massive preying mantis, a favorite species of mine. A bout the length of my palm if not more, and locked in mortal combat against the tiniest of lupine aggressors. Armed with what appeared to be a toothpick sized spear the little creature faced off against the bright green insect.

The spear flew and missed its mark, bouncing harmlessly off the mantis's exoskeleton. In a flash the spiked claws whipped out to grab the micro wolf, pinning it helpless with its spiny protrusions. I knelt down to watch as the mantis enjoyed its meal, popping the little mammal open easily with razor sharp mandibles and devouring him alive as it would with its own mate. What a beautiful creature, and an all too timely reminder we mustn’t yield to those who challenge us.

Bon appetite mon ami.
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