SCP-087.

It was a night like any other when my friend Alex and I stumbled upon something that would change our lives forever. We were avid urban explorers, seeking out abandoned places with a touch of mystery. Little did we know, our latest find would lead us to the most chilling encounter of our lives—the SCP-087.

We had heard whispers of an old research facility hidden beneath an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. The entrance was obscure, concealed behind layers of dust and forgotten memories. Armed with flashlights and a sense of adventure, we descended into the unknown.

The air grew colder with every step, and the oppressive darkness seemed to swallow our feeble beams of light. It wasn't long before we discovered a door, inconspicuous and partially ajar, leading to a seemingly endless concrete staircase that spiraled down into the abyss.

Curiosity outweighed our apprehension as we ventured deeper. The stairs were steep, and the occasional drip echoed like a distant heartbeat. The shadows danced menacingly on the walls, playing tricks on our anxious minds.

As we descended, a sense of unease settled over us. We both felt it—a presence, something watching us from the shadows. We pressed on, telling ourselves it was just our imagination playing tricks on us. Little did we know, we were stepping into the heart of an SCP nightmare.

After what felt like an eternity, we reached a landing, only to find another door. This one bore the ominous label "SCP-087." The air grew colder still, and a shiver ran down my spine as we cautiously pushed the door open.

Beyond the threshold lay a corridor that seemed to stretch into infinity. The walls were adorned with flickering lights, casting an eerie glow on the cold, metallic surfaces. It was then that we heard it—a faint, distant cry, like a tortured soul echoing through the abyss.

We exchanged nervous glances, but the relentless pull of the unknown urged us forward. As we delved deeper into the corridor, the cries grew louder, morphing into anguished whispers that reverberated in the cold silence.

Suddenly, the corridor ended, giving way to a vast, cavernous space. The whispers reached a crescendo, surrounding us in an otherworldly symphony of sorrow. In the dim light, we saw a figure—an ethereal, tormented soul, trapped in an endless cycle of despair.

SCP-087, the haunted stairwell, revealed its true nature. It was a gateway to a realm of lost souls, each one eternally tormented by the darkness that bound them. The figure before us moaned in despair, its eyes hollow and pleading for release.

We couldn't tear our gaze away. The haunting figure seemed to beckon us, drawing us into its suffering. Alex and I exchanged terrified glances, realizing we had stumbled upon a force beyond our comprehension.

As we tried to retreat, the corridor behind us shifted and twisted, trapping us in a labyrinth of despair. Panic set in as the cries enveloped us, clawing at the edges of our sanity. The malevolent force of SCP-087 toyed with us, dragging us deeper into its nightmarish depths.

In that dark abyss, time lost its meaning. We wandered aimlessly, haunted by the tortured souls that surrounded us. The whispers became taunts, and the shadows danced with malicious intent.

At the brink of despair, a glimmer of hope appeared—a faint, distant light. We stumbled towards it, our hearts pounding in our chests. The cries faded, replaced by an eerie silence that hung in the air like a heavy fog.

The light led us back to the staircase, and we ascended with a desperate urgency. Each step felt like a battle against an unseen force that sought to keep us in its clutches. The cries echoed in our ears, but we pressed on, driven by the instinct to escape the malevolence that lurked below.

Finally, we emerged into the cold night air, gasping for breath. The warehouse loomed above us, a silent witness to the horrors we had faced below. We looked at each other, our faces pale and drawn, forever marked by the haunting encounter with SCP-087.

We knew we had to share our story, to warn others of the malevolent force that lurked in the shadows of abandoned places. SCP-087 was real, and its echoes would forever haunt our nightmares, a chilling reminder of the thin veil between the known and the unknowable.