File :-(, x, )
It's very /real/ Anonymous

I live in a halfway house. Or maybe it's a mental institute. I don't know anymore. The walls are soft enough to sleep on and that's good enough for me. Where I am? I don't know. Could be any city, any country. Maybe Mary down the hall is right; I'm on fucking Jupiter. I got this, this knife thing, a scalpel I'm told. Stupid fucking thing, bad enough that I was entrusted with it, it also was shoved into my damned chest. They're looking for me, they call me by what I call myself in my dreams, that name that tortures me, "Holder of Eternity". Fuck them, my name was George. Eternity, that is what I'm here for. The room smells like piss and bile. My back aches. Every few days a chap walks down that hall right outside. Right out-fucking-side. Just waltzes down the hall. But he stops sometimes. He whispers things. I wonder if he's a fucking loon. I feel comfortable here, in my floor of soft pillows. Clouds. Heaven. Fuck this; eternal Hell. Deep down in the bowels of this blasted basement. Or atleast it was a basement.

Down the hall Mary and Richard the Great scream. They scream all the time. You'd think they're fucking every five minutes. Or raping each other. Or both. Can't let me sleep. I want my sleep. But today is different, see. Today I hear the lock on my door groan and click, before hearing the sound of a pair of high heeled shoes running off down the hallway. Am I free? My chains set, I'm set to stay.

Alas, outside I hear the nervous breathing of a chap. A boy, a girl, I don't care, I can't see. Bad enough that I have to live with these blasted memories. This nightmares that haunt me at night. Mary and Richard stop screaming as he opens the door. Silence engulfs the room and I grin my toothy grin. And y'know what he asks me? In his little (yes, it's a he) boyish voice he asks, "Who created them?"

Anonymous
File :-(, x)

I laugh. I laugh like never before, a cackle reminiscing the very same cackle of that hyena I slaughtered in the desert. Or was it a hooker on Palm Beach? I don't care, I'll tell him something. I'll tell him my dreams, my nightmares. This clean little boy does not know pain, he doesn't know death or wrong or evil. He'll know. He'll know. I'll burrow deep into the well that is his puny little brain and tear his very dreamy world apart. Ha! A virgin brain, ripe for the picking. Oh, how I adore such morsels. But I fail in one vital respect. I tell him of how I obtained this prick, this scalpel in my chest, embedded in such a maniacal way so as to sting me eternally but not kill me, the removal of it, though, would do the trick.

He takes a step towards me. Why'd I tell him all that? Why did I tell him about the scalpel? About ending my agony, my hell?

I look down at the flesh that was only but my casket. I look at him as he holds the object. The third of 538. Will he know what to do with it? It's up to him whether the others are protected or destroyed. I wonder how Mary and Richard are doing.... This whole spirit thing is abso-fucking-lutely fascinating.

>>	Anonymous dude how are you doing, i remember me visiting you

>>	Anonymous And now the little boy, having completed his set of epic random gear, will face the final boss and save the world. GOOD END.

>>	Anonymous Superb.

>>	Anonymous >>962963 i did that already don't you pay attention to the news?

Anonymous
File :-(, x)

the objects were created using by Unicron as a method of respecting himself.

the only way to stop him is to merge the objects with SCP #1001: the infinity, which will set of a chain reaction causing all the SCPs to become one with the objects. They will destroy each other and Unicron will be no more

Anonymous
File :-(, x)

>>963021
typo

the objects were created by Unicron as a method of resurrecting himself.

the only way to stop him is to merge the objects with SCP #1001: the infinity, which will set of a chain reaction causing all the SCPs to become one with the objects. They will destroy each other and Unicron will be no more

>>	Alice Holy shit. I wrote something like this, it's eerily similar but from the viewpoint of the seeker, only thing is the one in my story is a girl. I wanted to have lots of raep.

>>	Anonymous File :-(, x) >>963021 You could always just destroy the Keywork, and let the rest of existence sort the remaining mess out itself.

Anonymous

There was this one MSpaint in which a guy goes to a receptionist asking for the Holder of Memories and she gives him a weird look and he remembers an excerpt from the instructions that said she would respond with a look of disbelief or something. The last panel has the :Awesome: face with "SCORE!" written above it.

>>	Anonymous >>963424 Oh, yeah. I forgot to ask for it.

>>	Anonymous >>963424 I made that.

>>	Anonymous Who the fuck is Richard the Great?