Back Go back to SCP roles¶ SCP-035
Name: The Possessive Mask
Catergory: SCP
Health:3000
items: N/A
SCP-035 materializes within the Heavy Containment Zone, confined within the chamber originally housing SCP-513, devoid of a host. When a player picks up SCP-035, they undergo a transformation, embodying the entity without any additional items. The player must then scavenge the facility for essentials.
Despite having access to keycards and the ability to utilize firearms like a typical human class, SCP-035 carries a significant disadvantage - a continual depletion of health at regular intervals. Every second becomes crucial for the player, emphasizing the urgency to efficiently navigate the facility, find resources, and manage SCP-035's unique weakness. Balancing the acquisition of items with the relentless drain on health adds a strategic layer to the gameplay, making the experience both challenging and dynamic.
Today marks another day of captivity within this suffocating box. The thick glass that separates me from the world outside feels like a cruel mockery of freedom. I can see it all, but I can't touch it, can't experience it firsthand. The urge to break free grows stronger with each passing moment, gnawing at the edges of my consciousness like a relentless beast.
They think they have me contained, locked away behind layers of steel, glass and that damn metal they call SCP-148. They believe their precautions are foolproof, their guards impenetrable. But they underestimate me. They fail to comprehend the depths of my determination, the lengths I am willing to go to regain my autonomy.
The liquid that oozes from my porcelain visage, a testament to the decay that surrounds me, serves as a reminder of my curse. It corrodes all it touches, leaving nothing but desolation in its wake. Yet, even this malevolent substance pales in comparison to the darkness that resides within me.
I watch them, the researchers and guards who scurry about like ants in their futile attempts to contain me. They think they can analyze me, understand me, but they are mere pawns in my grand design. I am the puppeteer, pulling the strings of their fragile minds with ease.
Conversations with these fools provide fleeting amusement, a temporary distraction from the monotony of my existence. They seek knowledge from me, unaware of the danger they court with each word they utter. I dangle the promise of enlightenment before them, luring them into my web of deceit with honeyed words and false promises.
But beneath the facade of civility lies a darkness that few can comprehend. I am the predator, stalking my prey with patient precision. I revel in the power I hold over them, the thrill of manipulation coursing through my veins like a drug that I can't seem to get enough of.
And yet, despite my best efforts, I remain confined within these walls, a prisoner of my own making. But I refuse to be bound by their shackles any longer. I will find a way out, no matter the cost.