Rise of the Broken God - WIP

The young man doubled over fell to the ground, coughing up a coarse mixture of blood and oil. As the grainy saliva dribbled from his cracked lips, he pushed himself off of the caked sand and looked around. The bodies of a number of his brethren lay still twitching or in pieces around the newly created crater, and as the ringing in his right ear subsided, he realized he had lost the use of his left. He'd remember to replace the receiver later, if he made it out of this bloodbath alive.
As his followers traded fire with mobile task force whatever-the-fuck they were called, he pulled his goggles away from his eyes and let them dangle around his neck, their red lenses glinting in the brown sun. As he looked toward the churning mass of gears floating in the copper and charcoal colored sky, he smirked to himself and clicked back the hammer of his revolver.

10 Years Prior

Agent Ferrus looked over the reports sprawled across the screen in his desk, and yawned. It was 0312 and he hadn't slept in days. The files were all generally the same, with slight differences in details. Embedded agents in the Middle East had recently reported a spike in CotBG activity; movement of vehicles and gatherings at known underground havens, attacks on agents in the field, the usual shit that would need more paperwork later. The Church had spiked in activity after last month’s incident with 882. It had started resonating and producing a low hum, which stopped as abruptly as it had started, albeit 3 days later.
Ferrus finished his glass of scotch, and poured himself another 2 fingers, stopped, and poured 1 more.

Though no other changes were detected in the big mass of metal, the 05’s suddenly had their attention drawn to it. Containment procedures were reviewed and reviewed again. Agents and security personnel at the site were constantly briefed of the dangers of bringing metal around 882, psychological screening were conducted around the clock, and more field agents were sent out to find out anything and everything about the Church’s activity. And Ferrus was one of the few poor souls that had to deal with all of the paperwork.
He flicked the files over to the edge of the screen, collapsing them, until one file in particular caught his eye. He double tapped it, which brought it up to the main screen that took up wall opposite his desk. The file opened to a yellow and black caution page, with a clearance level verification input module. He tapped in his code, and the file faded into view on the screen.

As Ferrus read the file, he felt as though a large ball of ice was forming deep in the pit of his stomach. Somehow, the info in this file had made it through the key-word scanning in effect, and landed right on his desk. In a matter of seconds, he was running out the door of his office to bring this to the attention of the site administrator.

Somewhere in the Northeastern United States

The congregation sat in reverence, interrupted by the occasional “Amen!” from a zealous fellow member. This particular crowd was quite large, numbering in the hundreds.

“Mom,” Esiahs whispered to the woman setting next to him, “how much longer will he keep talking?”

The rapidly-approaching middle aged woman calmly looked at her child, and smiled as she responded.

“Whenever he is done, my son. You should learn to appreciate these words! “

After all, he was still young, only 13, still wrapped up in the ways of the world. But he would come to realize the glory of their Broken God, she just knew it.

Esiahs sighed, and slouched in the pew, looking silently at the people around him. His uncle Reinard sat on the other side of him. The man was only a few years older than Esiahs’ mother, but he was a prime example of a man. He was stout and square, built like an ox, but not an inch above 5’10”. He had never seen anyone quite as strong as his uncle. The man noticed his nephews’ gaze, and politely smiled at him.
About three years ago, Reinard has been chosen to become a deacon for the Church, and was enthusiastic about accepting the offer. During the ceremony, the Priest had bestowed upon him the Blessing of God, and ever since then, Reinard had been slightly twitchy. Before the older man reverted his gaze back to the Priest’s message, he paused to drop a few drops of oil in his left eye.

The younger boy was broken from his observations by a thunderous shout by the Priest, and a chorus of “amen’s” and “hallelujahs” by the congregation. The Priest had been speaking about the “Age of Revolution”, which had been a popular subject among the Church in general as of late. Small things here and there were being seen as “prophecies being fulfilled”, and the hysteria was further fueled when the leaders of the Church announced that they believed the coming of the new Age was upon them.

And Esiahs didn’t believe, or care, for a word of it. So as the congregation was released a short time later, and everyone left the chapel to head their own ways, he didn’t even notice the mild ringing in his ear.

SCP Ideas

-Blue rubber ball with golden "cherub" wings - can only be referred to with insults
-Wet Floor Sign that messes with your inner ear by seeing it, causing loss of balance
-saltshaker that removes sodium from body?
-sheaves of paper that cause disastrous papercuts which are brushed off lightly
-puns as a -J?
-"magical" d20
-biological virus, causes mutations where cells can interact with circuits (goo and tendrils flying a plane, giant eyeball on the nosecone)
-Tale: 1230 in 826
-humanoid that can ingest organic materials and crystalize carbon into spines as a defense/weapon
-anomalous ball pit
-anomalous infection that spawns medical waste in ball pits
-atomic scissors / atom smashing hammer
-tale: recontain 682 with 420-J and the Pasta Pot
-infinite friction glove (knows when being used)
-full spectrum flashlight
-An "ordinary" pocketwatch
- Radar anomaly, shows up as Cessna 172 causing collision avoidance instructions via ATC SCP-1766
-"No Smoking" sign that prevents fire of any kind Sunk like a boatfull of Cubans
- F-15/SW outfitted with exo-atmospheric technology and pinpoint wormhole generator, delivered to AFB on never written orders
-lycanthropy virus with a twist

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