To the normal human, this seemed like the darkest and stormiest of nights. But to him…it was just another Monday.
The old town's roads seemed to be hollow and empty. Not a single soul in sight. The town was gothic enough, but this added to the creepy factor.
But after years of hunting, Abraham Van Helsing The Second couldn't feel fear anymore.
The seven Moonstones in his amulet were acting up. And they displayed a beacon that led right to this town in Essex County, Massachusetts. He knew this to be where Salem was located, infamous for those witch trials.
But this place? Arkham? That was a new one…
This place wasn't on any maps. Almost as if no one wanted anyone to be here.
No kidding. It looked like a sunken grave.
The puddle rippled as he stepped on it. It was a heavy downpour, but he kept following the beacon. There was a storm out in the distance of the coastal town. The waters seemed too raging to head to the docks.
Abe passed a gate labeled "Sanitarium and Asylum". Looked like it was in ruins from a massive breakout and riot. He could smell some blood as well. Something was wrong…
Once again, they spoke. Called to him through his mind. It felt pretty powerful, but he had mental spells in case of something like this. Yet it was stronger than he thought. It wouldn't be long before it bypassed the mental shield. Whatever the hell "It" was.
Helsing…
He pushed those thoughts aside. There had been odd reports about some things around those lines.
Strange and unpredictable mutations. In both man and monster. It all started with the voices. Then, the mind slowly died. And finally, the body became deformed. Some became supernatural and paranormal anomalies. Some were far worse than others.
The government had to prevent a global panic. Thus, the S.C.P. Foundation was formed. Their goal: Secure, Contain, and Protect anomalies. Keep them fictitious. Cover them up. Not even he was allowed in their bases.
Some were more aware of the danger they possessed. Like SCP-2662, aka Cthulhu Ripoff. He was aware of how he could make people go mad and make them do terrible things. So he turned himself in. It wasn't so bad. At least he could still play video games.
But then there were those like SCP-682, aka the Hard-To-Destroy Reptile. You can shoot it into swiss cheese, try to chop it to bits, and even drop a goddamn nuke on it, but that stubborn monster just won't die.
There were also many more: A Bundle Of Stories (aka Slender Man), Desert In A Can, Man's Best Friend, Anantashesha (a giant moray eel that could cause memory loss and confusion), and even SCP-999, aka the Tickle Monster. It was actually kind of cute.
There was even one, SCP-343, who claimed to be literal God. Van Helsing felt like scoffing at this. At the very least, it might as well be an avatar.
Through deep research, Abe learned that the founder of the SCP Foundation, the Administrator, was some kind of immortal being. Tasked with destroying the Black Moon and ending its quest to destroy the universe.
Hmph. It seemed like only Van Helsing knew what the Black Moon truly was. It was a form beyond mortal comprehension, and the voice in his head at that very moment.
Do not fight it. You have been chosen.
Chosen? He thought. For what?
Call him. He is fated to awaken.
Who's fated to awaken?
Confused, are you? Fear not. They will take you to him…
Who are they?
No answer. He only grew suspicious…
Abe passed a graveyard. What he noticed was…disturbing. Every single grave, open as if having been dug up from the inside.
"Oh…shit…"
He knew EXACTLY what this meant.
He quickly readied his Ultimate Armor, having mastered it without need for an incantation. And he readied his twin assault rifles as he heard maddening roars.
And from the eerie mist, green eyes rushed forward. The horde of zombies screamed and roared as they began to swarm Abe, charging right at him!
"AAAAAARGH! AAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!"
