It was just a job. You were meant to be mopping floors and cleaning
toilets at the Johnston Labs and Pharmaceuticals Research Center for minimum wage. And you were happy about it, grateful for
any kind of employment - you didn’t even know that the company signing your checks
was the SCP Foundation, an organization dedicated to securing and containing anomalies and protecting
humanity from their negative effects at any cost. And today, you’re going to find out exactly
how steep that cost can be. The Johnston Labs and Pharmaceuticals Research
Center isn’t actually a research center at all: It’s a Foundation front business,
with a building solely dedicated to the containment of a single anomaly: SCP-3280. But again, you’re just the janitor, it’s
not like they would bother telling you what’s being contained here. If it breaks out, you won’t even know what’s
killing you until it’s too late. It begins, like most classic horror stories,
on a dark and stormy night. You’re mopping up a silent hallway, whistling
a little tune to yourself, when rain starts hammering down on the window next to you. Not long after, you see a bolt of lightning
split the distant sky followed by an immense thunder crack. Soon after you hear screaming and panicking
from below. Frantic footsteps. Then, the flashing lights and sirens. You think back to your employee orientation. These flashing lights and wailing sirens can
only mean one thing: Containment breach. You run for it, not even knowing what you’re
running from. You bring your mop and bucket with you, perhaps
just out of habit. You seek refuge in the only place in the facility
that truly seems to belong to you: The broom closet. The alarm blares as you lock yourself in the
closet. You’re shaking with terror and can hear
the screaming of your colleagues. You hear more noises - running, scrambling,
a wet dripping sound, gunshots, and then… silence. All this time, you can’t help but wonder,
“Why isn’t anybody coming to help us?” After a while, the only thing you can hear
is the rain and the distant thunder. It’s been hours. You’ve only managed to stave off dehydration
by drinking the filthy water from the mop sink. But at least it seems like the chaos outside
has died down. Carefully, you open the door and peek out
of the closet. Darkness, but no detectable movement. Now’s your chance and you make a break for
it, creeping down the hall. The dark hallway is suddenly lit up by lightning
and you can see that there are bodies everywhere. You step over the corpse of Dr. Cawthrone,
one of the few scientists working here who actually knew your name. If you can make it to the security office,
you might be able to radio for help, or maybe access a computer terminal. On the way to the office you hear another
horrific scream start to echo through the complex before it’s cut off by a thunderclap. You have to ignore it though and push on. When you enter the security room, you see
that the head security officer, Nichols, is already dead. His body has been cut open from neck to groin;
gutted. The anomaly, whatever it is, has already been
here. You access the computer terminal and open
the file for SCP-3280. You’re warned that, as Janitorial Staff,
you have Level 0 Clearance, and as a result, information will be omitted from the files
you access. It doesn’t matter. You press on and open up the file. Both the object class and the description
have been redacted. You can only see the Special Containment Procedures. They dictate that 3280 is to remain contained
at the Johnston Labs and Pharmaceuticals Research Center until long term Containment Procedures
can be drawn up. If the entity ever reaches beyond Sub-Level
2, the facility enters full lockdown mode. Not even information is allowed in or out
of the facility, as this could result in an XK-Class End of the World Scenario. In other words, nobody is coming to save you. The only other information on the page is
a picture of a lightning storm, much like the one you find yourself in right now. Lightning flashes in the hall. You dart around, paranoid, knowing the anomaly
could be anywhere. All you can hear now is a quiet drip, drip,
drip of blood coming from the body of Security Officer Nichols. Whatever this thing had done to him looked
painful. You try to remember him as he was in life,
and then, a revelation hits you. A security officer probably has a lot better
clearance than a janitor. You feel around Nichols’ mutilated torso
until you find his key card. Thankfully, Nichols was the kind of guy who’d
write his password on the underside of the card so he wouldn’t forget it. You easily gain access to the Foundation servers
with his login credentials. You now have Level 2 Security Clearance. The terminal gives you the option to view
security footage taken throughout the site. You’re given access to every camera still
working after the containment breach and the subsequent carnage. You select the camera feed for the Second
Floor Barracks. There, you see Researcher Jenson hanging from
a makeshift noose attached to his bunk. There’s a puddle underneath his corpse. You access the feed from the Second Floor
East Wing. There, you see Doctor Emmanuel stumbling down
a dark corridor. His movements are oddly listless, like he’s
in a trance. Suddenly, there’s another flash of lightning
and a crack of thunder. Doctor Emmanuel clutches his gut in pain and
crumples to the floor. You access the camera feed from the First
Floor Entrance. It seems that the whole area is flooded, is
this because of the storm? In a panic, many lower-tier staff members
had tried to escape, defying the lockdown protocols in the special containment procedures. Now, they’re floating face down in the water,
all dead. You access the camera feed from Sub Level
2, and see another corpse lying in the corner. He’s wearing an orange jumpsuit - D-Class,
no idea why he was down there. The only other notable thing in the basement
was a burst pipe, leaking and spraying more water everywhere. With trembling fingers, you select the camera
feed for the First Floor Cafeteria. The whole room is practically underwater - the
only evidence of the massacre that must have taken place are the fragments of clothing
floating on the surface of the water. That, and the fleshy, pink slurry forming
at the bottom of the windows. It reminds you of the gooey meat runoff in
chicken nugget factories. You close your eyes and try to center yourself. It’s violent chaos. Looking at more of it isn’t getting you
anywhere. Instead, you decide to put those new Level
2 Security Access credentials to good use, and hop back onto the file for SCP-3280. You think to yourself, “There has to be
something I can use on here...” But even as you wait for the file to load,
some part of you knows that time is running out for you. Perhaps it’s the stress, or the fear, or
the filthy mop water you drank, but you’re feeling the pressure start to mount, physically. Your stomach is beginning to ache. You can see blurry shapes moving in the corners
of your eyes. It’s getting harder to focus your vision,
and harder still to quiet the terrified voices in your mind. But you can’t get up - not without knowing
what is doing this to you. The containment class for SCP-3280 is now
declassified. “Euclid.” And what’s more, the Special Containment
Procedures have altered, too. They now explain that every week, a new member
of D-Class personnel is to be deposited into the entity’s lair in Sub Level 2 through
Subterranean Access Point Gamma. The D-Class- or more accurately, the sacrifices
- are to be told lies about why exactly they need to descend to the lowest point in the
facility. They’re even given a working flashlight
and a defensive nightstick to create the illusion that the Foundation expects them to ever return
from the depths. Little do they know, they also have a tiny
transmitter sewn into their jumpsuit. This broadcasts a frequency that will attract
an eager SCP-3280 to the D-Class’ location, like a dinner bell only it can hear. The file specifies that SCP-3280 always prefers
live prey. “Well, at least that explains the dead D-Class
in Sub Level 2,” you think, hoping that it’ll somehow overwhelm the dizziness you’re
feeling, or the nagging pain in your gut. You read on. Somehow, the file’s tone becomes even more
severe. It says that failure to maintain the containment
of SCP-3280 will not only trigger a lockdown, it will always call in the intervention of
two different Mobile Task Forces: MTF Iota-12, “The Silencers”, and Tau-4, also known
as “Water, Water Everywhere.” If twelve hours pass from the point of initial
containment breach, and the O5 Council hasn’t been given the “all clear” signal by one
of these teams, preparation begins for an imminent XK-Class End of the World Scenario. Just reading the words sends you into a cold
sweat. “End of the World? What on Earth is this creature?” Finally, you reach the description. You get to find out what this horrifying entity
actually is. But the last thing you expect is for the first
sentence in the file to read, “SCP-3280 is a sapient entity composed of a fluid physically
identical to water, capable of traveling roughly two and a half kilometers per hour.” It’s water. It’s literally a living, thinking blob of
water. As you read on, the concerning details pile
up: Any water that the anomalous SCP-3280 water touches, it integrates into its own
mass. But any time water is separated from this
mass, it remains anomalous, and continues to act independently. When the creature was first discovered, it
was a mere 66.4 liters in volume. Now, it’s around twenty five hundred. The water infected by SCP-3280 is hostile
to all humans, and not just in a defensive manner. SCP-3280 will actively seek out human prey. And when it finds them, it forces its mass
into any available bodily orifice, including the victim’s pores. This can happen in such a subtle manner that
you may not even notice yourself being infiltrated. But below this, the file has a list of symptoms
for those experiencing 3280 infiltration: loss of motor control, weakening of the micturition
reflex, visual hallucinations, and abdominal pain. As you read the words, your stomach gives
another painful churn. Almost like something is moving around inside
you. It’s all coming together. You read on. The file states that SCP-3280 is so difficult
to contain because it exhibits claustrophobic tendencies. Any time it’s placed inside a container,
whether organic or inorganic, it escapes with pressurized water jets that travel at over
255 miles per hour. If the water is inside a human, it may literally
explode out of them, killing them in the process. Your jittering eyes turn to the gutted body
of Security Officer Nichols. It all makes sense now. Everything is becoming clear as the pain in
your stomach builds in its intensity. The file goes on to say that if ever SCP-3280
escapes Sub Level 2, it may be impossible to contain again. If 3280 ever escaped the site proper, it would
indeed cause an XK-Class End of the World Scenario to unfold, as 3280 merged with our
water cycle and destroyed all of humanity on a global scale. It would become truly impossible for anyone
to escape. You can’t read any more. The pain in your stomach is unbearable. You jerk from your seat and stumble out into
the hall, doubled over in agony. You can feel it pulsing in there. Fighting its way out. It must have gotten in through the filthy
mop water you were drinking. You didn’t even know it, but your fate has
been sealed for hours. You’ve been a dead man walking. The hum of pain builds in your ears and renders
you almost deaf. All you can hear is the patter of rain and
the distant thunder. You collapse against the glass, feeling the
coolness of it against the skin of your face. And in that moment, you see the water droplets
on the window pane reverse direction. They’re slithering up the glass towards
your face in defiance of gravity. Then, you realize it’s already over, and
not just for you. SCP-3280 has escaped. It’s out there, and it’s going to drown
the entire world. As you collapse to your knees and prepare
to be torn apart from the inside, your final thought is that at least you won’t be alive
to see it. Now check out “SCP-682 - Ways The Foundation
Tried To Kill The Hard To Destroy Reptile” and “SCP-1730 - What Happened to Site-13?”
for more SCP Foundation stories that’ll have you sleeping with the lights on!
