Side Story #5: Walter the Ruthless
A dark blue and white patrol car bearing the insignia of the County Sheriff's Department pulled off the dusty gravel road and rolled into the large yard of a rural farm. The late morning sun glinted off its roof-mounted light bar as the car came to a stop near a weathered barn. Two deputies stepped out, their tan uniforms crisp against the backdrop of tall cornfields swaying in the breeze.
The first deputy, a burly man with a neatly trimmed mustache, adjusted his belt and tipped his hat to the elderly man waiting on the farmhouse porch. His partner, a younger officer with a notebook in hand, nodded politely.
"Mr. Randle?" the older deputy asked, his voice calm and professional. "You're the one who called?"
The elderly man, thin and wiry with a face creased by years of labor under the sun, nodded, gripping the porch railing with a gnarled hand. "That's right, Deputy," he said, his voice tinged with both weariness and frustration. "I appreciate y'all comin' out here."
The younger deputy opened his notebook, ready to take notes. "What seems to be the problem, sir?"
Mr. Randle stepped down from the porch, motioning for the deputies to follow him as he walked toward the barn. "It's my animals," he began, his voice tightening. "Past few nights, somethin's been takin' 'em. No tracks, no signs of a struggle, just gone. Chickens, sheep… even one of my goats last week. I've been raisin' animals on this land for forty years, and I ain't never seen nothin' like it."
He stopped at the barn door and pointed to the side of the structure. The deputies followed his gesture to see strange markings scrawled across the wooden planks, bite marks they couldn't immediately identify, etched deep into the wood.
"Found these a couple days back," Mr. Randle said. "Didn't think much of it at first, but they keep showin' up. I've seen 'em on my toolshed, my grain silo, even the windmill. And then this mornin'…" He paused, his voice trembling slightly. "This mornin', my whole damned chicken coop was gone."
"Gone?" the older deputy echoed, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean, gone?"
"Just like I said," Mr. Randle snapped, frustration overtaking his usual mild demeanor. "The whole coop, roof, walls, every last board, vanished overnight. My chickens were runnin' around like their tails were on fire. Took me half the mornin' just to round 'em up."
The younger deputy frowned, studying the markings on the barn more closely. "Any idea what these marks are, sir?"
Mr. Randle shook his head. "Not a clue. But I'll tell you one thing, this ain't the work of no regular predators. Somethin' unnatural's goin' on here."
The older deputy exchanged a glance with his partner, their initial skepticism giving way to concern. This wasn't shaping up to be an ordinary missing livestock report.
The senior deputy nodded briskly and turned to his junior partner. "Carter," he said, "keep talking with Mr. Randle. Get as much detail as you can about what he's seen and when it started. I'm gonna contact HQ"
"Yes, sir," Carter replied with a crisp salute, his notebook already open as he turned back to the elderly farmer. "Alright, Mr. Randle, let's go over this step by step. When did you first notice anything unusual?"
As Carter began his interview, the senior deputy strode purposefully toward the patrol car. His boots crunched against the gravel, but he kept his movements deliberate, scanning the surrounding fields and the farmhouse with practiced eyes. Satisfied that no one else was around, he reached the driver's door and unlocked it, sliding into the seat.
From his belt, the senior deputy retrieved a sleek, unassuming smartphone. He scrolled through his contacts until he found a name disguised in his list: "Garage Motors of Conway." Pressing the number, he waited as the line rang a few times before connecting.
"Garage Motors of Conway, how can I assist you today?" came a friendly but businesslike voice on the other end.
"This is Field Agent Bucket, designation number 3543-2318, Level-2 clearance, Class-C Personnel," he said, his tone shifting into the clipped efficiency of an experienced operative. "I've encountered potential anomalous activity at address XXXX in Arkansas with Field Agent Carter. I'm forwarding my bodycam footage for analysis."
He pulled a small cable from his utility belt and connected his bodycam to the phone. A few swipes later, the footage was uploading to a secure server. Bucket leaned back in the car, keeping a wary eye on the farmhouse as he waited for a response.
A few minutes passed before the operator spoke again. "Received, Agent Bucket. Continue your investigation on-site. If the situation escalates or presents too high a risk, evacuate the area immediately. A containment team has been dispatched to your location."
"Understood," Bucket replied. Then he hesitated before adding, "There is one civilian witness who's seen the markings left by the anomaly. What are the instructions regarding him?"
"Containment team will handle witness management upon arrival," the operator said without missing a beat.
"Copy that," Bucket acknowledged. He ended the call, pocketing the phone before removing the bodycam from the cable. After a brief pause to collect himself, he stepped out of the patrol car and closed the door, the faint click of the lock breaking the quiet.
With a steady breath, Bucket adjusted his hat and began walking back toward the barn.
Bucket approached Carter, who was just finishing up taking Mr. Randle's statement.
Suddenly, a loud CRACK echoed through the farm, drawing their attention. Bucket's eyes snapped toward the sound, and he spotted a distant wooden barn collapsing in on itself. Without hesitation, he drew his sidearm. Carter followed suit and pulled his weapon.
"Stay close," Bucket ordered in a hushed voice, motioning for Carter to follow him.
The two foundation field agents advanced cautiously toward the ruins of the barn. Around them, cows bolted in every direction, mooing in panic. The scene was chaotic, but they pressed on, determined to uncover what had caused the destruction.
As they neared the wreckage, a strange noise reached their ears:
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
It was rhythmic, deliberate, like something chewing through tough material. Bucket signaled for Carter to stop as they approached the collapsed structure's edge. Carefully, they peeked around a corner to investigate.
What they saw made both of their jaws drop.
In the center of the carnage, amid shattered wooden beams and scattered hay, was… a rabbit. Not just any rabbit, it was a pure white one, speckled with black spots across its fur. The creature was chewing on a large wooden plank, effortlessly reducing it to splinters with its unnervingly sharp teeth. Every bite came with a loud crunch, and it showed no sign of stopping, gnawing through debris as though it were a buffet.
Carter's eyes widened in disbelief.
"W-what the hell?" he stammered.
Bucket, equally dumbfounded, struggled to find words.
"You've got to be kidding me…"
Bucket and Carter froze, their breaths caught in their throats. The scene before them was as absurd as it was disturbing. A rabbit, a perfectly ordinary-looking white rabbit with black patches, sat amidst the wreckage of the collapsed stable. It wasn't panicking like the scattered cattle or scurrying for cover. Instead, it was chewing. Crunch, crunch, crunch.
The rabbit's small, twitching nose buried itself into a splintered wooden plank, and with an audible crack, it bit off a chunk. The wood splintered and disappeared into its mouth as though it were nothing more than a fresh carrot.
Carter was the first to break the silence, his voice high-pitched with confusion. "Is… is it eating the barn?"
Bucket didn't lower his weapon, but he stole a glance at his junior partner. "No sudden moves, Carter. Keep calm."
Carter's hands trembled slightly as he tightened his grip on his firearm. "Calm? That thing's chomping down wood like it's a five-star meal! When is the containment team coming?"
Bucket ignored the remark, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the peculiar creature. The rabbit didn't seem to notice the two armed foundation agents creeping closer, completely engrossed in its feast. Splinters and debris surrounded it, evidence of its relentless chewing spree.
"This is…" Bucket whispered. His hand instinctively moved toward his bodycam, ensuring every second of this bizarre incident was captured.
The crunching sound grew louder as the rabbit moved to a larger beam. It gnawed with mechanical efficiency, its small jaw working tirelessly as it reduced the sturdy wood to sawdust. Despite its size, the destruction it had wrought was extensive. The entire stable had collapsed, and this tiny, insatiable rabbit was at the center of it all.
"What the hell is it?" Carter muttered under his breath, his weapon trembling slightly.
Bucket didn't respond immediately. He glanced back at Mr. Randle, who was standing at a safe distance near the house, his face pale with shock. Turning back to the anomaly, Bucket spoke in a low tone. "Whatever it is, we're not equipped to deal with it directly. Just stay steady."
Carter swallowed hard. "Do we… do we try to catch it?"
The rabbit stopped chewing for a moment, its ears twitching as if it had heard Carter's words. Slowly, it lifted its head, revealing dark, unblinking eyes that gleamed unnaturally in the dim light. It stared directly at the two field agents .
Bucket's grip on his gun tightened. "I don't think that's a good idea."
Carter instinctively raised his weapon, his hands shaking as he aimed it squarely at the fluffy menace. "Stay back!" he shouted, his voice betraying a mix of absurd disbelief.
The rabbit paused, tilting its head as if contemplating the shiny object. Then, with alarming speed, it launched itself at Carter, jaws wide open.
CRUNCH!
Carter froze, staring at the now-empty space where his gun had been. The rabbit casually chomped down the weapon as if it were a particularly crunchy carrot.
"What the-!" Carter stumbled back, horrified.
The rabbit's gaze shifted upward, locking onto Carter's uniform. Carter blinked in confusion before realization dawned.
"Oh no. No, no, no, "
But it was too late. The rabbit pounced again, this time going straight for his clothes. Carter yelped as the rabbit expertly shredded and devoured his uniform piece by piece, leaving him in nothing but his badge and his boots. He flailed, trying to escape, but the determined bunny was too fast.
Standing there in his birthday suit, Carter crossed his arms in front of himself, his face a mix of fury and mortification. "You little bastard!" he bellowed. "You've eaten my equipment, my clothes, and my dignity! What more could you possibly want from me?"
The rabbit didn't respond. It simply stared, intensely, directly between Carter's legs.
Carter followed its gaze. His eyes widened in pure panic. "Oh, HELL no!" he shrieked and bolted, running as fast as his bare legs could carry him.
The rabbit gave chase, bounding after him with a single-minded determination.
Bucket, who had been watching the entire debacle unfold with a mix of amusement and disbelief, finally stepped in. He lunged forward and grabbed the rabbit by the scruff of its neck. The creature wriggled and squirmed furiously, its powerful jaws snapping in the air, but Bucket held firm.
"Relax, Carter," Bucket said, smirking. "I got it."
Carter peeked out from behind a haystack, his face bright red. "That thing tried to eat everything!"
Bucket chuckled, hoisting the rabbit up like a squirmy, oversized kitten. "Well, at least it has a bad taste."
The rabbit, still wriggling in Bucket's firm grip, paused its futile struggle. Its beady little eyes narrowed, glinting with pure, unfiltered rage. Suddenly, it shifted its gaze back to its own fluffy form, and, to the utter bewilderment of both agents, it opened its mouth wide and chomped down on its own tail.
"What the hell?" Carter whispered, frozen in his haystack hiding spot.
Bucket stared, his grip slackening slightly as the rabbit continued its… self-destructive meal. It chewed through its own tail like it was munching on a carrot, then, without hesitation, moved on to its hind legs. With unsettling efficiency, it devoured its own lower body, hopping slightly as it worked its way upward.
"Is it… eating itself?" Carter stammered, his voice tinged with disbelief.
By now, the rabbit had consumed its torso, leaving only its front paws and head. It seemed to pause for a moment, as if contemplating its next move. Then, with one last heroic effort, the creature twisted its jaws around, folding its head inward until it vanished completely in a bizarre, self-cannibalistic display.
The air was still. The only sound was the distant clucking of free-roaming chickens.
Carter emerged cautiously, staring at the empty spot where the rabbit had once been. "…What the actual hell just happened?"
Bucket, still holding the now-empty space in his hands, sighed and shook his head. "That rabbit…" He paused, glancing at the area as if trying to process it all. "That rabbit is so ruthless. It ate itself rather than let us take it in."
The two stood there in stunned silence, trying to piece together what they had just witnessed.
Before they could exchange any more words, the rumble of engines broke through the quiet. Several black Foundation vans rolled up the dirt path to the farm, parking in perfect formation. Agents poured out in tactical gear, moving with military precision to secure the area.
Bucket turned to Carter, his tone weary. "Looks like the cleanup crew's here."
Carter nodded, his face still a mix of shock and disbelief. "I… I'm not explaining this one. You do it."
Bucket glanced at him, smirking slightly. "Fine, but they're definitely going to ask why you're not wearing pants."
Carter groaned, burying his face in his hands as the Foundation agents swarmed the scene, their professionalism sharply contrasting with the chaos the two field agents had just endured.
---
Leonard reclined in his chair, half-heartedly listening to the audio feed from the ongoing O5 Council meeting. His phone occupied most of his attention as his thumbs danced across the screen in rapid succession, playing an online tower defense game. Every so often, a snippet of conversation from the Council caught his ear, phrases like "containment breach" and "Class-A amnestics", but none of it seemed to demand his immediate concern.
Suddenly, an unexpected chime resonated in his mind, accompanied by a notification from the system:
[Ding! Congratulations to the host for successfully containing SCP-524, "Walter the Omnivorous Rabbit."]
[Ding! The host has received 3,000 Golds as a reward.]
Curious, Leonard opened the attached file in his mental interface:
[SCP-524 File:
SCP-524 is a common white rabbit, identified as Oryctolagus cuniculus. It possesses white fur with symmetrical black markings. SCP-524 demonstrates the anomalous ability to consume any material regardless of its edibility. This includes wood, steel, glass, and even hazardous substances such as radioactive materials.
SCP-524 is unaffected by anything it ingests. Most notably, it has been observed consuming its own body, beginning with its tail, progressing to its hind legs, torso, and neck, until it flips its mouth inside-out to devour its head, disappearing completely in the process. SCP-524 reappears near the location of its self-consumption roughly 30 minutes later, entirely intact and unharmed.]
Leonard blinked at the description, pausing his game as he processed the absurdity of the rabbit's abilities. "So this thing eats everything… including itself?" he muttered.
He dismissed the file with a swipe, returning his focus to his game. "Well, at least I got some free cash out of it," he thought, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
The Council's voices droned on in the background as Leonard casually leveled up his towers. Occasionally, he muttered responses to the system's in-game notifications but continued to half-ignore the critical discussions of SCP breaches and global anomalies echoing through his office.
If anyone asked, he'd just say he was "multitasking."