and-then-i-died2.txt

title:And Then I Died...
Welcome to //And Then I Died...//, an SCP collective writing game!  Useful information is held behind a collapsible tab right here: [[collapsible show="Click Here to Learn The Rules of the Game" hide="Click Here to Make This Go Away"]]

This is pretty simple.  The idea of this game is to compose an encounter with an SCP without overtly revealing what SCP it actually is.  The rules are basic, and as follows:

1. Whoever guessed the last one correctly (information about guessing at the bottom) has to write the next one. If you don't want to write, then don't guess.  Feel free to sit back, relax, and say "Oh! I got it right!" when you do.

2. If you're writing the new one, try to keep it under 500 words. This is a game, not a novel.  Also, try to get it written within a day or two (a week at the longest), so the game can keep moving forward.  If you fail to write your entry quickly enough, a judge will step in and write it for you.

3. While not required, a few red herrings are definitely encouraged, so long as the final solution is the most likely/most obvious answer.  Having someone die from exposure to  [[[SCP-008]]] while [[[SCP-682]]] eats their torso and they're fired from the Sun Launcher... Not gonna work.

4.  Try to make it... well... not obvious, but... guessable.  Going for something needlessly obtuse will make the game no fun for anyone.

5. The character "speaking" (and this is the most important rule) //must// die at the end.  It might not be from the SCP in question, so long as their exposure caused it somehow.  

6. If no one guesses your SCP, then congrats!  After a week or so, let everyone know how clever you were, and write another one.

7. If you're the author, make sure you send a message to [http://www.wikidot.com/account/messages#/new/451071 TroyL], or [http://www.wikidot.com/account/messages#/new/481882 Dexanote]  to let them know the answer. Troy, Ragz and Dex will be recusing themselves from making any further guesses to function in this capacity.  Winners will be posted in the discussion thread for this page, so keep your eyes open! Maybe you won! 

If there are any questions, or a need for clarification, please notify the game judging people things, TroyL, or Dexanote, in the chat.  Thanks, and have a good time reading and guessing!

[[/collapsible]]

Looking for the old entries? Click [http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/and-then-i-died right here] for some excellent reads! Answers are included at the end of each entry.

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**Round One: TroyL**

I laughed when they told me about the faeries that would occasionally appear around the room, especially since I'd not really been around and SCP like this one before. Heh. To think, I was going to be working at Site-19. It was going to fun! So much fun!

I yawned and looked around the room, scratching my neck and peering over at the sensors, watching the blips and swatting away the little, winged nuisances. Mostly things I could ignore...

After a moment, though, one of the blips goes too high. The machine lets out a soft alarm, and with a sigh, I push myself up and open the observation door, walking over to the bed and glancing down at the sleeping form there.  Nothing that I can see, but to be safe... 

I grab the syringe (there are always a full stash of everything I might need right next to the bed) and slide it into the IV, depressing it and tossing it into the bin. I walk back and look down at her, smiling, then...

Her lips are moving. I can almost make out what they're saying? Avoid Cameras? Abba Concierto? Abra Ka-

And then I died.

**[[[scp-239|Solved]]]**

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**Round Two: Scantron**

Oh, oh man. I can't believe that worked. Do you think they even saw anyone take their tickets? Probably not. Shit, stop giggling man! You're sounding like your girlfriend. Let's just hope... aw, fuck. Nosebleed seats. Eh, it's not like it's setting us back anything.

...fuck. **Fuck.** The fuck was that shit? We aren't paying this guy ten mil a year to hit easy pop-ups. I don't even know //what//'s going on. You think maybe they could have spared a few funds from the renovation to get some decent fucking players, right? I mean, we have enough medieval stuff in that one guy in left field, the one with the mustache.

Just... well, hey, it's most of the way over. We're not losing //too// badly, right? And their relief pitcher, what's his name, he's kinda shitty, so we have a shot. Oh, look, s'pose we should stand up and sing along. I always loved this song...

Fuck, this is tingly, I don't kn-

And then I died.

**[[[scp-298|Solved]]]**

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**Round Three: Vlemich**

Damn this heat! This isn't what I signed up for at all. I can't believe they sent us down to this God-forsaken land. I'm getting sick of the Austrians all over the place. It would be nice just to see a few more Englishmen around here to make things feel more like home. Oh well, just another day of watching over platoons. At least I managed to land an easy gig! All I have to do is sit up on this rooftop, out of sight, out of mind for all these damn gun toting soldiers.

Finally some action! And lucky me, all I have to do is sit up here and start picking off any threats I find. Look at those boys go! Those new guns are really clearing the way for our boys! For the Queen!

Each man is moving professionally, coordinated through the small village. These small militia might not be well equipped, but orders from the top are to put them down before they can gain enough support and man power to become a threat. I guess I can respect nipping it in the bud, but it's almost too easy. Just look how securely those Tommys are getting through this little place! Alright, time to buckle down and keep an eye out for them….

WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON? Damnit, this is turning bad quick! I can't even see any return fire! One, two… five men down already at this one stupid little hut! What the fuck! Damnit, I can't see anything! Shit, shit, SHIT! Where are they? GOD DAMNIT the whole damned platoon is going down! Son of a bitch! Ah fuck, somebody is coming out of the hut… Line up the sights… I don't know how you took out a whole platoon but you're about to go down mother fucker. He is looking around at the dead bodies now. All I need is a clean shot at his head. He comes out into the open; heart is racing; sights are lined up; a clean shot to the head, wait, what's wrong with his face? No matter; I slowly squeeze the trigger.

And then I died.

**[[[scp-073|Solved]]]**

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**Round Four: anqxyr**

I am running, running faster than I've ever run before. Tunnels of the sewer around me are lightness, all alike, and some part of me worries for a moment that I will get lost here. I can hear the blood pulsing, pounding in my ears, and feel the presence of the beast behind me, chasing me.

The beast came for us when we were resting, eating. It killed three, maybe four, before the rest came to their senses and started to run. To be honest, we expected it to happen, eventually. There were debates, and proposals of traps and early warning system, build from scraps and garbage. But none of it matters now.

I can see the the outline of another tunnel ahead of me. I dive into the opening and continue to run for half a minute more, then stop. I can see every detail of every brick in the wall before me, edges sharp, gleaming in the dark, as if they are laughing at me. Dead end. I turn around, mortified.

The beast enters the tunnel, blocking the only way out. I look in its eyes. They are focused on me, not blinking, and I see the hunger and the fire of hunt in them. Before I can do anything, it comes to me, at me. For a brief moment I think about a life I had before, normal life, with joy and purpose, not filled with fear and disgust, not focused on mere survival. Then the beast closes its jaws on my throat. I try to scream in pain and terror, but all that comes out is a high-pitched squeak.

And then I died.

**[[[scp-731|Solved]]]**

-----

**Round Five: Uncandescent**

“I’m disappointed in you Richie.” His voice wavered and bubbled on the edge of my consciousness. The world was spinning, tilting every which way. I was going to be sick. 

“Very disappointed.” 

A burst of pain, terrible pain, right in the back of my head. Am I dead? Dying? 

No, still alive, still breathing. 

It shouldn’t hurt to breathe.  

“I thought we were friends, you and I.” 

Stay conscious. Focus on something, anything, anything other than the pain. It’s dark, but—there, on the ground, in red, it’s—

Another wave of nausea. It was a tooth. My tooth. 

“But then you went and stabbed me in the back. Is that how you treat your friends, Richie?” 

“I… I didn’t…” 

This wasn’t fair. They’d hit me too much, too long. Words were hard now.

“What? You didn’t what? C’mon, spit it out!” A slap on the back, hard. Blood flew from my mouth. The ropes dug into my arms. 

“I didn’t mean to…” It came out blubbery, but I was beyond caring.

“You didn’t mean to spend my money?” He reached forward and grabbed my shoulders. “You didn’t mean to splurge it all on a fancy new car?” A heavy smack and suddenly my cheek was pressed against the floor.

Suddenly something broke inside. Hot streaks trailed down my cheeks, and this time it wasn’t blood.  

“Please… Please just… just stop.”  I begged.

“No. You know what Richie, I’m not gonna stop. You’ve fucked up one too many times.” A click cut through the ringing in my ears. “No more excuses.”

“No!” I yelled. “I can pay you back! I know people! I have something that can stop this!” 

“You’re right. Life insurance.”

And then I died. 

**[[[scp-661|Unsolved]]]**

-----

**Round Six: Uncandescent**

It’s true what they say, you know. You never appreciate what you have until it’s gone. 

Like the sun. No one ever stops and goes “Gee, I’m sure glad that the sun is there!” It’s always going to be there. And if you’ve seen it once, you’ve seen it a million times. It gets you nice and toasty on warm summer days, but for the rest of the time there’s central heating. And central heating doesn’t shine in your eyes, or make your skin flake off, or hang you with the big C.  But now… now I regret every second I didn’t spend just standing outside, just soaking it all up. Maybe then I’d have some extra for times like this.

And people. Never thought I’d give a crap about people. Always in your face with their whining and their problems and their baggage and exactly everything about themselves that you couldn’t care less about. Right now, I’d give my left arm just to see someone’s face. I don’t even care if they’re deaf and mute, I just want to know that someone else exists. I just want to… I guess I just want to know that the world really happened. That I didn’t just make it all up, you know? 

No, that’s stupid. I’m the stupid one here, really. Traipsing around, looking for adventure, and I wind up—

OW! Wow! Did I mention antibiotics yet? Because I really miss antibiotics. Wowee, antibiotics. I haven’t been able to look at my leg in—days, maybe? I don’t know. No sun, no time, no goddamn difference. The color makes me sick, and I don’t think I have anything left to puke up. And on top of that—

Sorry, I… I tripped. You have to really watch your feet, cause…

I… don’t think I’m gonna make it. 

Actually… I know I’m not gonna make it. 

I think I might have always known.

Is it wrong that I feel better now? 

Cause I do. I feel like… like I could snatch up every criminal on the planet. And map out the insides of every abandoned building in the world. It’ll take a while, but I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time, you know? Where I’m going, I mean. I wonder what it’ll be like. At least I know it can’t be worse than here…

And then I died.

**[[[scp-201|Solved]]]**

----

**Round Seven: Scantron**

You know, once you get used to the stench, this place is pretty great. Functional heating, still has electricity, full fridge and pantry. I'm almost thinking "What's the catch?", you know, seeing as how nobody's moved in yet. I'm not normally accustomed to living arrangements this nice, given my lifestyle... stayed up all night playing video games to celebrate the find. Neighbors are probably wondering why the lights are still on... I should really go to bed. Ah, here's the bedroom.

Hm. Now, that would be the smell, wouldn't it. Let me just... yeah, he's dead. Well. I'll just look for any... yeah, they're dead too. I wonder what killed 'em... they're so pale. I should probably leave now, no good just standing around.

Ow! Fuck! Why can't I walk? I... ugh, thirsty...

And then I died.

**[[[scp-625|Unsolved]]]**

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**Round Eight: Scantron**

I yawn and look out at the road in front of me... the yellow dividing lines come into existence in my headlights, rush past me, and dissolve into the darkness. I yawn again. My eyelids slip closed and then snap back open. "Hey Jo?" No response. I prod her.

She stirs, then stretches a bit in the seat beside me. A sleepy "Yeah hon?" escapes her mouth.

"Could we, uh..." I yawn even harder and blink my eyes. "Could you get me s'more coffee?"

She curls up back into a ball in the passenger seat. She mutters, "We don't have any more... you drank it. We should just pull over for the night."

My eyelids are so heavy. I drift out of my lane a little, but I swerve back in and blink rapidly to wake myself up. "No, no, we have to get to your parents' house by six."

"Mm-hmm..." She's back to sleep already. Lucky her... I would have her take my place, but she had the last shift. It's my turn right now.

I refocus my attention on the road in front of me. I let out a massive yawn, my mouth going wide enough to strain the jaw. I massage my chin as I talk out loud to myself. "There's no-one else on this road right now... it's supposed to be straight. I could rest my eyes a bit..." I stroke Jo's hair a bit and close my eyes-

I wake up with a start, finding my weight pressed on my right leg, my foot squeezing the gas pedal. Jo is screaming. The radio is screaming. In my groggy panic, I just floor it harder...

And then I died.

**[[[scp-973|Solved]]]**

------
**Round Nine: Grug16**
"Come on, Brad," I said.  "Why do you have to be such a freakin' chicken?"

The other guys laughed.  It was clear nobody liked my younger brother.  Who would?  The little guy never leaves the house.  He says he's scared of “Monsters” and “Bad Guys”.  He watches too many cartoons.  Still, I had to take him with me.  If a little mischief night fun isn't going to make him man up, nothing else will.

So we strolled down Fairside Road.  Most of the houses had their decorations up already, shriveled ghosts and plastic witches everywhere.  They looked really freaky in the darkness.  Brad stayed close to me as Mickey, Jun, and Rob hovered around and tossed insults.

“Snot nose”
“Fatass”
“Nerd virgin.”

“Stop it!” yelled Brad.

“Alright, guys.  Let's get that house first,” I said, trying to distract them.  Old Lady Carter's place.  I figured she'd be too deaf to notice us until we were done.  Mickey pulled out the four dozen eggs he brought, handing three cartons to Jun while he opened the last.  After tossing a few, I remembered Brad was with us.  I held out an egg in my hand.  “Come on, Brad.  Think of it like a... a magic spell.”  I put on my best big bro face for him.  After a second of hesitation, he nods, and took the egg.  He wound up and threw.

A single window pane broke clear of the frame, and we heard the wonderful sound of dishes and silverware falling over inside.  That's a lot of payoff for one egg.  Brad looked at me in disbelief, and then smiled.  “That wasn't so bad, was it?” I said.  The other guys started clapping.  I was more proud of him than I had been in a long time.  Then the clapping abruptly stopped, and the screaming started.

And then I died.

**[[[SCP-330|Solved]]]**

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**Round Ten: GideonSmith08**

“Shit, shit, shit, shit…”

Knocking a neglected glass of mystery juice over, I pulled Jeremy in close, soaking myself in his tears and in the unknown fluid. Earthquakes, while pretty common, are always a constant fear. But I guess that’s to be expected in LA; an occasional test of acuity at 9 PM to “shake up” life a little, pardon the pun, isn’t THAT bad.

Holding him close, my unconditioned paternal instincts kicked in. The last decade’s been… shit: Faulty brakes took my parents, the Big C took my Katherine, the land-lord’s taking our shitty home in a few weeks, and even Mother Nature’s against us today. But, staying true to all of those damned Full House episodes and Disney films I think we used to watch, I guess I’m just giving giving the kid someone to depend on, y’know?

“Shhhhh… That’s it. Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

My sleeve acting as a crude replacement for the tissue boxes on the table above us, I started to believe that I got pretty good at this crap. And as if I was a damned psychic or whatever, staying under the desk seemed like the best idea, considering the possibility of an aftershock. A few seconds later, the satisfaction of my precise judgement made the shaking room a little brighter.

Not wanting to be too righteous, I thought back to the familiar faces…

I don’t know how they put up with my shit over the years, but I supposed this fucking family was… mine now. I clung to Jason… Shit, I mean Jeremy- a little tighter, nuzzling my face against his messy, grey hair.

I don’t know if it was fear or a deep rejection of my new responsibility, but the cold, awkward unfamiliarity felt… almost right.

And then I died.

**[[[SCP-929|Unsolved]]]**
------

**Final Round: TroyL**

It's with a sigh that I lean back in my chair... Finally, it's over. All this 'And Then I Died...' nonsense is through.  Too many people didn't seem to care, and the ones who seemed to care guessed too quickly to get it right... Oh well. These things happen. Maybe I'll start it up again one day...

I stand up and walk out to my car, feeling a few drops of rain hit my neck as I climb inside it, closing the door and shivering as I make the slow drive home.  The heater feels good, at least.  I turn on the radio, listening with a chuckle to Garrison Keillor.  He looks //nothing// like he sounds, being far smoother and more elegant than his rough voice would suggest, but that's fine, after all.

I finally arrive home, walking inside and dropping my keys, wallet, phone, and scancard on the table, sighing and walking over to my home computer, sitting down and checking IRC to see if I had any pressing messages. Finding that the most exciting thing going on was another newbie getting kicked from #site19, I stand and make myself some dinner: egg whites and toast. It's a little dry, but palatable enough. Good food for a dieter.

After dinner, I catch half an episode of House, then change into my workout clothes and head to the gym.  I'm there for maybe an hour, just doing chest and back, and then a quick run.  The light rain hasn't let up, but I rather enjoy running in the rain, if I'm honest. It's nice and cool, and I feel clean when I get done.

The trip home is uneventful as I scribble my time, "8 mins 47 sec", down in my workout book.  I'm just a little pleased with myself for keeping my mine under nine minutes, something I wouldn't have even thought about a few months ago.  When I head back into my house, I make more eggs, then sit down and screw around in some of the chat rooms, trolling Ragazzo and Echo just for kicks, then getting into a retarded argument over something similarly retarded.  It's a nice enough evening, all things considered. 

I take a shower finally, then dry off and head to bed naked. Laying down on the new mattress, I can't help but wonder if I'm really getting anything done with my life... But, of course, it doesn't matter.

Because then I died.

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[[collapsible show="Click Here to Learn How to Guess" hide="Click Here to Make This Go Away"]]
To guess, send a PM to one of the three judges by clicking their name here: [http://www.wikidot.com/account/messages#/new/451071 TroyL], [http://www.wikidot.com/account/messages#/new/508888 Ragazzo], or [http://www.wikidot.com/account/messages#/new/481882 Dexanote]. Alternatively, you can enter the **#site19** chat and send a PM to one of the three judges: TroyL (alias MechaTroy), Ragazzo, or Dexanote (alias ProfChainsawFace, Chainshank, or anything with Dexa in his name).  They'll let you know if you've guessed correctly.  Generally, you only get one guess, so  make sure you think you're right before you take a swing at it!  If you win, then congrats! You get to write the next one.  Have fun!
[[/collapsible]]