Location: Neo-Viena – Bernhard International Corporate Zone Alpha.
The Bernhard family had grown far beyond castle walls. They were no longer lords of land, but shareholders of empires. Their biotech conglomerate BIOMUIQMENT had expanded into para-research after the Death of the Main CEO, Raisa Volkova at the hands of Dracul. They focused on black sites and weaponized anomalies. One such asset had grown too volatile. Since they agreed to work with the SCP Foundation for outsourcing several substances developed to contain/kill SCP
SCP-096 – codenamed "Shy Guy" – a humanoid anomaly so unstable that looking at its face, even in digital form, caused it to enter a homicidal frenzy, killing the viewer regardless of location.
Status: Uncontainable. Undefeated. Unholy.
It was Arthur Bernhard who proposed the solution: summon the one being whose wrath once made Heaven weep and Hell kneel. Dracul.
"We'll use SCP-096 as a trigger," Arthur told the board. "And we'll let him kill the killer."
"Isn't he—?" a scientist woman whispered.
"A god?" Arthur smirked. "No. He is a Vampire."
"Okay, the plan? Foolproof. Lure the unkillable SCP-096 into an urban zone. Broadcast its face on every visible screen. Deploy soldiers as bait. Let Dracul handle the rest. Or die trying," said the same woman.
Far away, in the dark forest beyond the city outskirts, SCP-096 stirred. Someone, something, had seen its face.
A howl of inhuman pain and fury ripped through the night as SCP-096 launched itself across the earth at horrifying speed, tearing through trees, earth, and steel to reach the one who dared gaze upon it.
It found the city. The soldiers saw it first. "CONTACT! IT'S—" They didn't finish. SCP-096 tore through them like wet paper, limbs flailing like bladed whips. Blood sprayed the concrete as screams echoed off buildings. In seconds, the squad was gone.
Dracul walked into the trap willingly.
The Bernhards forged a message he could not ignore—spoken in Marie's voice, claiming her soul was trapped in the ruins of Zone Z-13, an abandoned city.
He arrived in silence, his red cloak flowing like blood through the dusk. His wings tucked behind him. The Vampire Killer hung at his side, dormant but thirsting.
The streets were silent, but lined with surveillance drones, pressure mines, and veiled soldiers.
He whispered, "Marie…?"
Above him, digital billboards began to flicker. One by one, the Face appeared.
Distorted. Crying. Screaming.
SCP-096's image.
Dracul's supernatural senses bristled. Hearing the soldiers being torn apart.
A scream pierced the world.
Far away in a cryostasis tube, SCP-096 awoke. It had felt it. It had been seen. There were eyes on it.
Time to impact: 47 seconds.
A camera caught a flash, then another. Trees shattered. Birds fled. The sky itself seemed to fold inward.
And then—
SCP-096 landed in the center of the street like a meteor, its pale limbs twitching, jaws snapped unnaturally wide.
It was weeping. Then it screamed and sprinted forward.
Dracul stood unmoving. His sword ignited with blue icy light.
The monster leapt, claws raised—
And was caught mid-air by the Shadow Whip, which slammed it into the pavement with the weight of a collapsing cathedral.
It got up.
And kept screaming.
Claws met darkness. Dracul vanished into the mist, reappearing behind it, plunging the Void Sword into its back. Black ichor sprayed. The creature shrieked louder.
But it didn't die.
It spun, grabbed Dracul by the throat, and slammed him through a city bus. Metal crumpled. The concrete cracked.
Dracul snarled, eyes glowing crimson. The Chaos Claws flared to life, and with a savage roar, he ripped into SCP-096 with burning, explosive strikes.
Still, it would not stop. Broken bones snapped back into place. Flesh reknit. It shrieked and tackled him through a skyscraper.
Using Chaos Claws, the ground cracked beneath his blows. Each punch exploded on contact, sending SCP-096 flying into buildings. But the monster reknit faster than any beast Dracul had fought. It retaliated—faster than sound, faster than thought.
Dracul caught its claws inches from his face, blood dripping. The monster opened its jaws and screamed in his ear so loud, the buildings shattered.
He dropped to one knee. The sound is nasty. He teleported above it and slammed down with his boots, crushing Shy Guy through lots of concrete.
Dracul spun, dodging the first blow. Claws sliced through the pavement like butter.
He grinned, fangs bared. "So fast. But not fast enough."
He activated the Chaos Claws—his arms ignited in swirling red flame. The air shimmered. With a roar, he struck the ground with both fists.
Three enormous, burning claw shapes erupted from the ground, clawing forward in a slightly arched wave toward SCP-096.
The flames carved deep grooves into the earth—and when they hit, they seared straight into the pale monster's meat, peeling skin from bone.
SCP-096 howled.
Its body was engulfed. Flesh blackened. The fire burned so hot, its screams echoed for two straight minutes.
Dracul stood there, expression cold. The flames roared behind him.
But the monster didn't die.
It stood back up, smoking, eyes boiling, whole skeleton exposed—but still moving.
Dracul raised his clawed hand.
The Chaos Claws pulsed, and fire gathered.
He hurled a massive Chaos Bomb—a flaming sphere the size of a carriage.
It exploded against SCP-096's torso, sending it flying into a skyscraper frame.
Then another.
And another.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Dracul moved forward slowly, calmly, hurling flaming meteors—eight in total, each bigger than the last.
Each time, the Shy Guy was blasted back, chunks of meat and gore flying off—but it kept regenerating.
Dracul snarled. "You're stubborn."
He leapt, landed on its back, and smashed a Chaos Bomb directly into its spine, detonating it in close range.
SCP-096 screamed again, back arched, and tried to fling him off.
Too late.
As the flames faded, Dracul vanished in a blur and reappeared in front of the beast, now switching to the Void Sword.
A sharp hiss of frost replaced the heat. The vampiric blade glowed icy blue.
He slashed twice, cutting deep into 096's legs and kneecaps, freezing the regenerating tissue. The monster collapsed, its limbs locked in ice.
Dracul spun and stabbed it through the abdomen, then whispered, "Kneel."
And drove his foot into its chest. CRACK. Ribs shattered.
Then he rolled away as SCP-096 broke free, even more furious.
It leapt again—Dracul caught its arm mid-swing and slammed it into the ground.
The crater still smoldered.
Dracul stood in the center, breathing slow and measured, the Void Sword in one hand, crackling with frost, the Chaos Claws flickering out, smoke trailing from his knuckles.
And yet… a sound.
The wet slap of regenerating muscle.
Dracul turned, too late.
From the shadows of the rubble, SCP-096 launched forward, its body half-burned, one eye hanging loose, jaw unhinged—but its arms already reaching for his skull.
Before Dracul could respond. One hand grasped the top of his mouth, the other curled around the bottom jaw. The monster roared, lifting him off the ground like a beast trying to peel apart a steel coffin.
Dracul's legs kicked once. The bones in his jaw stood strong.
But his eyes burned cold.
He let it happen.
Let the monster try.
And then— SNAP—! With an eruption of feral fury, his vampiric fangs sank into SCP-096's long, white fingers. A sickening crunch. Two fingers gone. Dracul bit them clean off.
SCP-096 reeled back, a choked scream gurgling in its throat.
But Dracul wasn't done.
He turned his head slightly… and then spit the fingers out like bullets—launching them with a force that snapped into the pavement and sizzled on contact.
His blood—his vampiric blood—was acidic.
Where it splashed with the severed flesh, it hissed and ate through concrete, burning dark trails of rot into the earth.
SCP-096 staggered.
Its severed hand smoked, the acidic blood causing the fresh wound to bubble and hiss. For the first time— it hesitated.
Dracul slowly rose to his full height, jaw already healed, red-black blood dripping from his chin.
His voice, low and cold:
"You thought I would scream like the others you killed? I am the one who inflicts punishment."
He stepped forward.
The Void Sword began to form in one hand, ice gathering in crystal rings.
The Chaos Claws reignited on the other, lighting the ruins with a deep, hateful flame.
And behind him, in the shadows of the complex, Arthur Bernhard, from a control room camera, whispered through his headset "…Oh shit… We didn't trap Shy Guy with Dracul… we trapped Shy Guy with him."
The dust hadn't even settled from Dracul's spit-acid counter when SCP-096 let out a distorted, gurgling snarl—a sound not of rage… but frustration. It was being mocked.
It couldn't break his skull. It damage him due to his own regenerate which was as fast as his. And now, it lunged again, this time low, with desperation behind its grotesque posture.
The crowd of burning wreckage parted as the creature dropped into a sickening crawl—like a broken spider with purpose.
And then— It went for the unthinkable. The iconic shy guy groin attack.
Its long pale fingers darted toward Dracul's belt with the intent to perform one of its few learned tactics from eviscerating hundreds of unfortunate souls: the "twist and shred" maneuver.
This time, the target was Dracul's manhood.
But—CLANG. Its hand smacked not flesh… but a thick, ornately forged obsidian belt, decorated with vampiric runes and held by enchanted silver clamps—the armor forged by Dracul's own immortal will.
A shield belt. Unbreakable. Unmoving. Unbothered.
Shy Guy twisted. And twisted. Veins bulged in its elongated neck. SNAP! Its wrist gave out.
The sound was sharp and pathetic—a failed wrenching motion followed by a yelp. The fingers hung limp as the creature staggered backward, clutching its useless limb.
And then—for the first time since the encounter began— SCP-096 looked up with wide, hollow eyes. And froze.
Fear. Real, pure fear.
Its expression contorted not rage, not agony, but something more primal.
The realization that it had touched something divine and untouchable.
Dracul looked down, brushing his armored belt like brushing lint from a royal coat.
He muttered, voice like cracking marble: " Only Marie touches that part of me. Besides, you appear male, Faggoty is a satanic act, and I despise Satan. You will get the same treatment like he did. "
The moment Shy Guy froze, Dracul vanished in a burst of blood mist.
In the blink of an eye, he reappeared behind SCP-096, hands blazing red, chaos energy coiling around his fingers like infernal serpents.
He grabbed the creature by the skull. One hand, one grip—unbreakable.
With the force of a thunder god, Dracul drove his foot forward, slamming into Shy Guy's midsection— BOOM. Then again. BOOM. Again. BOOM!
Each stomp landed like an earthquake, sending shockwaves through the cracked pavement. The ground beneath them fractured and cratered, and with one final, spine-shattering strike Dracul buried SCP-096 into the earth.
Up to its ribcage.
A muffled scream came from below, filled with confusion, rage, and terror. But Dracul wasn't done. Not even close.
He raised both arms, flames erupting like molten tendrils around his Chaos Claws, his crimson aura flaring as his power intensified. Then, with a roar of ancient fury, he brought both fists down.
A brutal hammer blow to the skull. Shy Guy's face cratered. Bone collapsed. Charred muscle tore.
And again—Dracul hammered. And again.
Each strike of the Chaos Claws caused fiery shockwaves, melting asphalt, igniting nearby cars, and sending Foundation drones crashing to the ground from the turbulence.
At last, Dracul stepped back, his hands still burning. Shy Guy's body twitched in the ground like a broken insect.
Smoke hissed from Dracul's claws as the fire dulled… then extinguished.
He stood over the twitching husk of SCP-096, watching it struggle to regenerate, its flesh melting and healing in uneven, frantic pulses. But it was slow now. Weak. Rattled.
Dracul exhaled once. Cold. Controlled.
Then, he grabbed it by the throat.
With a flash of inhuman strength, he hurled Shy Guy forward like a ragdoll, sending it skidding and flipping through the wrecked street. Asphalt cracked in its wake as it slammed against a burnt-out tank.
CLANG.
Before Shy Guy could even groan—SSHHHHK.
The Void Sword ignited, a cold shimmer of blue-white light forming along its sleek, ornate blade. Ancient runes lit up along the steel, pulsing with every beat of Dracul's undead heart.
His eyes glowed with cruel calm. He dashed.
The world blurred as Dracul vanished again into a shockwave of speed, cape snapping behind him, a howling wind at his back.
He appeared mid-air, above Shy Guy, sword poised in reverse grip.
And then—he began to descend.
The Void Sword spun like a chainsaw, a cyclone of razor-edge blue light carving a glowing arc through the smoke-filled battlefield. Dracul guided the blade into a spiraling drop, a vertical saw-strike of vampiric wrath—VRRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMM—SCHHHHHLLLAAAAKKKKK!
He split into Shy Guy's shoulder, slicing down with precise, spiraling force, cutting through tendons, ribs, bone, and muscle like silk. The cold magic of the Void Sword froze the wound open as it passed, halting regeneration and leaving a streak of ice across the ruined flesh.
Shy Guy howled, its scream gurgling with frozen blood.
Dracul landed with a crouch, cape flowing, sword still humming.
He didn't look back at first.
SCP-096 staggered, twitching, half-frozen and mangled. Its ruined body tried desperately to mend—but the Void Sword's frost had halted time in its flesh, locking it in a cycle of silent agony.
Dracul rose to his full height, the Void Sword humming low in his hand.
Without warning, he vanished again, reappearing just as suddenly in front of the writhing abomination.
SLASH—!
Another chainsaw-style cleave ripped across Shy Guy's chest, this one straight across the sternum. Ice magic exploded from the wound, locking muscle and bone in place, and pinning the beast upright like a sacrificial display.
Dracul let the Void Sword fade into mist.
He reached into his coat. His hand closed around the sacred relic. The Vampire Killer Cross.
The Cross shimmered, then the stake elongated, its edges pulsed with ancient Belmont rage.
Dracul moved behind Shy Guy. With a single, swift motion, he jammed the Cross into the base of its neck, right where the spine connected to the skull.
Shy Guy spasmed.
Then—BOOM—!
Dracul drove the Cross downward.
Through vertebrae. Through nerves. Through the core of its malformed heart.
The Cross ignited as it pierced through, its holy energy burning white-hot and deadly pure. Chains of light erupted outward, constricting SCP-096's body as the weapon carved through its torso like divine lightning.
Flesh burned away.
No regeneration.
Only obliteration.
Dracul held the handle with both hands and with a final grunt of wrath, tore the Cross all the way down, splitting the creature in half from neck to groin.
A shockwave burst from the impact site, throwing debris, flames, and blood-choked ash across the battlefield.
Both halves of SCP-096 crashed to the ground, not healing. Not twitching.
Silent.
Dead.
Permanently.
Security Feed Recording – Command Room 04:09 AM
Emergency klaxons echoed faintly in the background. Monitors flickered with corrupted footage, static, and blurred carnage. The image of the street—now a charred trench carved by flame, frost, and fury—was frozen on-screen, showing the two halves of SCP-096's corpse split cleanly down the middle, smoke and holy energy still rising.
The silence in the control room was heavy.
Dr. Glass stood with one hand pressed over his mouth. His glasses hung crooked on his nose, his coffee long since spilled and forgotten. "He he killed it. Not subdued. Not contained. Killed."
The site's head of mobile task forces leaned over the table, knuckles white on the metal edge. "We've lost over forty-two men. Entire squads annihilated in seconds. And he just walks in with a sword and tears the thing in half? The Bernhards told us we will get a new SCP working with them."
Dr. Sophia Light, the occult liaison, broke her silence. Her voice was tight, terrified, but controlled. "Not a man. That was Dracul. Probably the most powerful being on the planet."
Glass turned sharply. "That file was locked under ten layers of admin clearance. You mean to tell me this was authorized?!"
"No," Sophia said. "Someone in the Bernhard family went behind our backs. When deliver supplies from Bioquickment They lured SCP-096 into a public killbox and unleashed him like a damn attack dog against the Vampire."
A nearby junior technician pulled up telemetry from the battlefield—radiation spikes, arcane flux, holy resonance levels that shattered every instrument.
After-Action Report Summary – SCP-096 Termination
Subject Terminated by Third Party (Dracul): Confirmed. No regeneration detected. Holy interference neutralized anomalous recovery.
Casualties (not in mission): 42 Foundation personnel, 11 snipers, 4 MTF squads, 3 armored units.
Damage Cost: Catastrophic (Street sector B, New Vienna).
Class Upgrade Proposed: Dracul (Currently tagged under SCP-): Proposed Keter, Upgraded to Thaumiel. Threat level: Amida.
Containment Recommendation: None. Engage only with cooperation. Otherwise—pray.
