SCP-008

Zone 19 had become a living hell. Footsteps, wheezing, bursts of gunfire. The storage room had become a mess of concrete and corpses. Hundreds of bodies had merged into a single mass with a hole in its face—the Hammer Strike had been destroyed. You crawled through the rubble, clutching a broken machine gun. Of the three hundred soldiers, less than fifty remained. They'd found a radio.

— Storm Zone 19! Mining and Processing Plant workers, where are you?! We can't hold out for thirty minutes!

Sector Director 00-11: "The GOC is on the move, but even they can't hold out." Dr. Elsie: "SCP-008 is offering assistance."

— Fuck it! Start landing! Better a deal with the devil than death!

You opened fire, but the bullets only irritated the creature. Twenty minutes of hell. Suddenly, a space siren sounded—the "guy" with white holes for eyes was standing nearby. SCP-008.

— We're retreating!

The creature dashed away while 008 tore it apart in one motion. The monster's body began to regenerate. The GOK soldiers pulled you out. As you ran, you saw a black hole growing from 008's palm. Half the building collapsed into blackness.

Half an hour later, SCP-008 emerged from the ruins, clean. The Director ordered the anomaly returned. You approached. The "guy" extended a black hand.

— We have an agreement: I help, you give me what I want.

He leaned over and said in an icy whisper:

— My wish is... to eat normally.

He smiled, baring his teeth. You understand: hell is just beginning.