#scp comic

wealthiest scp personnel

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The living room is quiet.

Low lighting.

The sounds of the children are distant, barely audible.

SCP-953 is lying on the couch, her back resting on SCP-035’s thighs. Her tail moves slowly, as if observing more than relaxing.

SCP-035 barely moves. His head tilts slightly. When he speaks, his voice is calm—as always—quietly amused, without advertising it.

His fingers suddenly slide to her waist.

SCP-953:

— No. Don’t you dare—

But the fingers don’t stop.

This time, under her arm.

A sharp laugh escapes her before she can stop it.

Pure fox laughter—an unmistakable yipping sound.

Instinctive. Unrefined.

SCP-953 (laughing despite herself):

— Damn you— stop! Stop it now!

The fingers continue. Slowly. Deliberately.

Not rough. Not rushed.

As if he’s testing timing more than location.

SCP-035 (in a low, dry tone):

— Fascinating.

— All that anger… and yet you can’t stop laughing.

She tries to twist away, to pull back, but her back remains settled against his thighs.

Her tail strikes the couch irritably.

SCP-953:

— If it were anyone else… I’d have torn them in half by now.

Another short burst of laughter slips out against her will. She curses him again, the words breaking between breath and laughter.

SCP-035 does not laugh.

There is no need.

His fingers stop suddenly.

Silence.

One second… two.

SCP-035:

— But you didn’t.

She lifts her head slightly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. Her breathing is still uneven. The anger is there—yes—but mixed with something else she refuses to name.

SCP-953:

— Don’t interpret this however you like.

He inclines his head just barely, as if that alone is answer enough.

SCP-035:

— I don’t interpret.

— I observe.

Her teeth clench. Her tail gradually stills, despite her resistance.

She expects him to resume. He doesn’t.

That unsettles her more.

SCP-953 (more quietly):

— Finished?

He remains silent longer than necessary.

Then:

SCP-035:

— Yes.

Nothing more.

No extra sarcasm.

No victory lap.

Just a sudden calm.

She stays where she is. She doesn’t move right away.

She curses herself for that.

SCP-953:

— You enjoy this more than you let on.

SCP-035:

— Of course.

— But not in the way you think.

She tries to reply.

Finds no suitable sentence.

She exhales deeply, then mutters:

SCP-953:

— One day… I’ll pay you back for this.

A threat in tone, but without real fangs.

SCP-035 (calmly):

— I expect nothing less.

Another moment of silence.

The city beyond the walls continues as if nothing has happened.

She is still lying there.

And he makes no move to touch her again.

Not because he was told to stop—

but because he has already gotten what he wanted.

Scene: The Return

Six days after the death of SCP-076-2 during an operation against monsters, Able’s wife enters the garage housing SCP-076-1. Behind the sealed garage doors, where the scent of oil and iron blends with a strange chill radiating from that massive black stone, Sarah stood before SCP-076-1. To her, he wasn't just a "Keter-class entity"—he was her husband, gone for six days behind the veil of death.

Sarah moves with heavy steps; the black she wears seems to have absorbed every color from her soul. She approaches the sarcophagus, her hands trembling as she slides back the heavy stone lid—a feat the strongest MTF operatives wouldn't dare attempt without equipment.

(Inside the Coffin)

Able lies there, still as a statue from ancient epochs. His massive frame fills the void, the Sumerian tattoos on his chest appearing faded, as if waiting for a spark of life. His right hand has begun to manifest from nothingness; white bones being overlaid by muscle fibers growing at a glacial pace—a scene of both horror and miracle.

Sarah leans down, taking his intact left hand and pressing it against her tear-stained cheek. She breaks down, her sobs shattering the desolate silence of the garage.

Sarah (voice breaking): "Come back... don’t leave me like this... please come back. The world is cold without you, and the house is dark, Able."

Hot tears fall onto his bare chest, over countless scars. She kisses the palm of his hand, then whispers in anguish:

"Please, finish quickly... you’re very late this time. Are you enjoying yourself there? Are the battles more beautiful than being by my side?"

She stares at his still face, at his noble, sharp features. Suddenly, driven by a despair that knows no fear, she climbs inside the narrow sarcophagus. She lies beside him, resting her head on his broad chest and wrapping her arm around his massive one. She pulls the heavy lid shut over them, plunging them into a deep darkness broken only by the sound of her weeping and the growth of his cells.

(The Awakening)

In the gloom of the coffin, fueled by the warmth of her body and the sound of her crying that pierced the depths of the "pocket dimension," something occurred that the Foundation's labs had never recorded. Able did not wake as a storm of destruction; he woke as a man who had just reclaimed his soul.

The fingers of his newly formed right hand twitch. Slowly, with the weight of someone carrying mountains, that arm rises to encircle her waist. He feels the tremors of her sobbing. He opens his eyes—those eyes researchers described as "shark-like"—but now they glint in the dark with a different light: the glow of a Shepherd who has found his most precious possession in the gut of death.

His voice emerges deep and coarse, like two stones grinding together, but with an uncharacteristic calmness.

Able (In a Sumerian whisper followed by English): "Cease your wailing... I have returned."

Sarah gasps, lifting her head in the dark, trying to see his face. He tightens his grip around her—not to restrain, but with the protective logic inherited from his early days as the protector of the valley.

Able: "Did I not tell you once that I despise weakness? So why do you make me despise myself now, for being the cause of these tears?"

Sarah (wiping her tears with his hand): "I thought you wouldn't come back... I thought you chose to stay in an endless fight."

Able is silent for a moment. In his mind, images of cowardly kings and researchers watching from behind glass clash with the image of this woman who slept in his grave.

Able (In a sharp, sincere tone): "Death is merely a warrior’s rest, but your screams pierced my silence. Those... [he spits the word with contempt] ...those cowardly kings in their offices sent me on a trivial task, but they forgot that I now have something to return to. Do not open this casket yet. Let us stay here, away from the eyes of the palace watchers. Today... I am no one’s weapon."

He rests his head atop hers, closing his eyes, enjoying for the first time in his millennia-long life a "peace" that does not require bloodshed, but only requires staying in the arms of a woman who did not fear the monster within him.

(Moments Later)

She weeps more into his chest, now out of joy. Sarah takes Able’s cheeks in her hands and kisses him with longing. In the darkness of the narrow stone tomb, where the cold air of the pocket dimension mingles with the warmth of Sarah’s trembling body, the impossible happened. The kiss Sarah pressed to Able's lips was not a mere instinct; it was a deep spiritual call to the "Abel" the Shepherd buried beneath the layers of "Able" the Butcher.

A heavy silence followed. Able, whose body was usually as rigid as steel, felt the muscles of his massive shoulders begin to relax. His Sumerian tattoos, which typically pulse with a violent red light when he is enraged, began to dim and stabilize, as if declaring an unconditional truce.

Able raised his right hand—the one just completed—and with extreme caution, as if fearing his superhuman strength might crush her fragility, he placed his rough fingers on Sarah’s cheek, slowly wiping away the remnants of her tears.

Able (Low, deep voice, as if from a bottomless well): "You little fool... I have crossed cities of corpses and stood against kings who thought themselves gods, and I never once trembled. Why then do you make my soul falter now with a single touch?"

Sarah, still sobbing faintly, clung to the hand touching her face. She closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of iron and ancient earth that clung to him.

Sarah (Whispering): "Because you aren't a weapon, Able... you aren't just a number or a Keter entity. You are my husband, whom I've waited for through six nights in this cold garage. Strength isn't always in the kill; it’s in returning to the one who loves you."

Able looked into her eyes in the dark. The "shark" gaze that terrified the Foundation’s strongest teams vanished, replaced by a haunting human depth burdened by thousands of years of solitude.

Able: "You came to my grave... you lay beside a beast that hates all that lives. The researchers behind those walls [he nods toward the outside with contempt] measure my pulse and my endurance, but they do not understand that the 'challenge' of staying here, close to your breath, is harder for me than tearing through an entire army."

Sarah drew closer, burying her head in his neck. His massive arm responded with a cautious embrace, like a man shielding a wounded bird from an approaching storm.

Able (Sumerian whisper followed by heavy English): "Enough crying... tears weaken a warrior’s vision, and I need my full sight now. Those 'cowardly kings' in their offices think they hold the key to this coffin, but they do not know that your heart is what opens and closes it now."

Sarah smiled through her tears, feeling the powerful thud of his heart against her chest.

Sarah: "Will you come out with me? The children are waiting... and the house needs you."

Silence fell again. Able felt a deep revulsion for the outside world, for the "trivial noise" of the researchers, but he pressed her shoulder gently, signaling his surrender to her will.

Able: "I will go out. But not for them—for you. And any researcher who dares to interrupt this peace with a single word, or tries to place a measuring device on my body today... [his voice turned gruff and dangerous] ...will face me in my full fury. Today, Able is not available for experimentation."

(after edit the drawing)

Scene: The Shattering of Identity in "Hener's" House

In the Second District, where an eerie silence shrouds House No. 6, the door is flung open violently. Ari, a seven-year-old girl, enters with a deathly pale face. Her school bag isn’t on her back as usual; instead, she drags it behind her like a heavy corpse before hurling it into the center of the hallway and rushing toward the bathroom, sobbing with a grief that shakes her tiny frame.

On the sofa, SCP-035 sits with one leg crossed over the other, coldly reading a criminal file. Beside him is SCP-953, cleaning her long nails with a sharp, piercing gaze. Both freeze for a moment.

035: (In a calm, melodic voice, tinged with a concern wrapped in curiosity) "Oh... it seems the final act of the school day did not end with the standing ovation we expected."

They rise in an eerie harmony. 035 moves with a theatrical fluidity, while 953 glides with the litheness of a predator. They stand behind the locked bathroom door. From within, a metallic "snip... snip..." echoes; the sound of scissors opening and closing, accompanied by bitter weeping.

Ari: (Screaming from inside, her voice choked) "I don't want to go to school! I don't want to learn! I don't want anything!"

953: (Tapping the door lightly with her claws, her eyes beginning to turn crimson) "Ari... open the door. What is that metallic sound? Tell me who dared to anger you, and I will make them wish they were never born."

Ari: (Her crying intensifies) "All the students there... they pull my tail! They laugh at my ears! They say I’m a freak! I’ll get rid of them... I’ll cut them off now! I don’t want them! I hate everything! It’s all because of you, Mother! You’re the one who made me this way!"

The house falls suddenly silent. The expression of the mask on 035’s face tightens, and a viscous black fluid begins to drip from the eye sockets—not out of sorrow, but as a sign of his wounded pride reaching a boiling point.

035: (Leaning closer to the door, his voice now resembling a hiss of snakes laced with honey) "My dear Ari... cease this nonsense at once. Lions do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep, so why should a demi-goddess like yourself care about the opinions of mortal human scum? Those children are nothing but 'extras' in your personal play, and the audience always attacks the stars who outshine them."

953: (In a sharp voice, cutting like a blade) "Ari! We eat the livers of those who dare touch us; we do not cry in bathrooms because of them! Those ears are your crown, and that tail is the legacy of thousands of years of dominion. If you dare touch them with those scissors, I will consider it a betrayal of our blood."Ari: (In a low, broken voice) "But I want to be normal... I want them to love me..."

035: (With a faint, mocking chuckle) "Normal? 'Normal' is a synonym for boring, my little one. And boredom is the only sin I do not forgive. Be feared, be a beautiful nightmare, but never be 'normal.' Throw those cursed scissors down and come out to us."

A few moments of heavy silence pass, then the sound of the scissors hitting the marble floor is heard. The lock turns slowly.

Ari emerges, her eyes bloodshot, her face stained with tears, and her black hair disheveled. She stands perfectly still, looking at her parents: the enduring white mask with its black overflow, and the woman with the feral gaze whose body trembles with rage.

Suddenly, the child’s facade of strength collapses. She lunges to embrace her mother’s leg tightly, bursting into tears once more, while 035 places a cold hand on her shoulder with a possessive touch. His eyes (the mask) stare into the void with malice, as if he has already begun drafting a vengeful closing argument that will tear the lives of those students' families apart—both in court and out of it.

Scene analysis (for those interested only):

This scene represents the ultimate collision between "Ancient Divinity" and a painful "Human Reality." When Ari cries out that she hates her ears and tail, she isn’t just rejecting physical body parts; she is rejecting the "Legacy" that her parents have taken pride in for millennia.

Here is a deep analysis of the characters SCP-035 and SCP-953 and their reactions based on their psychological and historical nature:

First: SCP-035 (The Manipulative Father and Mastermind)

* Behavioral Reaction (Deadly Coldness): Based on his history as the "Possessive Mask," 035 will not explode with childish rage. Instead, a terrifying calm will descend upon him. Black fluid (his corrosive secretion) may begin to drip heavily from the mask’s eye sockets—not as a sign of sorrow, but as an indicator of an internal "chemical boil." He views Ari as his finest "theatrical production," and her being bullied is a direct insult to his genius and perfection.

* Manner of Speech (Honey-Coated Poison):

His voice will be low and musical, yet with a tone that freezes the blood. He will tell Ari things like: "My dear, lions do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep; so why should a demi-goddess like yourself care about the opinions of mortal human scum?" He will use his psychological persuasion skills to flip the narrative, turning her self-hatred into a hatred for society, planting the seeds of narcissism so she discovers she is superior to her peers.

* Emotions (The Narcissistic Injury):

035 does not feel "pity" in the human sense; he feels "entitlement." He possesses Ari just as he possesses his hosts. Her scream about wanting to cut off her ears will be viewed by him as "vandalism of a priceless work of art." His feelings will instantly shift from parental concern to "revenge planning." He is the criminal lawyer who will seek out every vulnerability in the lives of those children's families to destroy them legally, socially, and psychologically. Second: SCP-953 (The Predator Mother and Wounded Pride)

* Behavioral Reaction (Instinctive Rage):

As a "Kumiho" (nine-tailed fox) who has lived through millennia, her reaction will be physical and violent. At the sound of the scissors, her eyes will glow a brilliant crimson, and her claws may instinctively emerge. To 953, the ears and tail are symbols of "Divinity and Sovereignty." The idea that her daughter wants to "get rid of them" is a stab to her pride as the last of her lineage.

* Manner of Speech (The Muffled Roar):

Her words will be sharp, brief, and full of menace. When Ari blames her, saying "It’s all because of you," 953 will feel a bitterness she never tasted even in Foundation containment. She might respond with a voice like a serpent’s hiss: "We eat the livers of those who dare touch us, Ari; we do not cry in bathrooms because of them."

* Emotions (Conflict between Beast and Mother):

This is where the "human emotions" mentioned in the scenario appear. 953 hates humans, but now she sees her daughter suffering because of her "incomplete humanity." She is torn between her desire to turn the school into a slaughterhouse and her desire to hold her daughter. Ari’s collapse and her embrace of her mother’s leg will shatter 953's defenses; she will feel a "Holy Rage." She doesn't want her daughter to be a "normal human"; she wants her to be an invincible predator.

Third: Combined Reaction (The Couple’s Dynamic)

Once Ari emerges and breaks down, a terrifying coordination occurs between the parents:

* Toxic Emotional Containment: 953 will hold Ari firmly, not just out of love, but as if "protecting her prey." Meanwhile, 035 will stroke her head with his cold hand, promising her that "justice" will be served.

* The Revenge Plan:

* SCP-035 (The Mind): He will immediately begin gathering information on the bullies' parents. As a lawyer, he will dismantle their professional futures and send "coded messages" that leave them paralyzed with fear in their own homes.

* SCP-953 (The Claws): She won't settle for legal solutions. She might go out at night, taking the form of the school principal or a child's parent, to plant nightmares and hallucinations in those children's minds that will make them tremble at the sight of Ari the next day.

Fourth: The Psychology of the "Scissors" and Rejection

The idea of using "scissors" to cut the ears and tail is the pinnacle of tragedy, specifically for SCP-953. In Korean mythology, the Kumiho often seeks to become human through marriage or sacrifice, but Ari was born this way by nature. Ari’s rejection of her identity is a failure of 953’s existential project.

As for 035, he will later explain to Ari that the "Mask" (identity) is what grants power, and that the world is nothing but a grand stage. Those who do not possess a "distinction" (like her tail) are merely "extras" in her own show.

> Final Result of the Scene: