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SCP-8037 | safe | SCP-8037 Item #: SCP-8037 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8037 is kept in a climate-controlled chamber in the Botanical Storage Wing of Site-16. Routine feeding and plant care is performed by Containment Technicians when SCP-8037 is not involved in active testing. Description: SCP-8037 is an instance of the Venus flytrap1 plant. It is significantly larger than typical examples of the species, and exceeds the natural limits of energy and movement for flora of its kind. It has four of the distinct leaves, in addition to several vine-like tendrils which it controls with exceptional strength and precision. SCP-8037 is capable of autonomous movement, utilizing its features to manipulate objects and move itself around in its environment. It is rooted in soil held by a planter pot made of alumina ceramic. SCP-8037 is capable of speech. The leaves move in sync with the expressed vocalizations, despite impossibility of the floral physiology producing such sounds. SCP-8037 primarily speaks in a distinct manner characterised by lyrical verse and vocal harmonies of barbershop music. Addedum-01: Discovery Foreword: Routine Foundation Normalcy Monitoring Systems detected a potential disturbance at the premises of Green Al's Garden Kingdom in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. An SCP Field Asset Team was deployed to investigate further. [BEGIN LOG] [Agent Polk and Agent Rodney walk across a parking lot and enter the store.] Agent Polk: So what exactly are we looking out for? Agent Rodney: We don't know exactly what we're looking for, that's why they send us here to look out. Agent Polk: How do we keep getting calls like these? Just once, I'd like to be in the second wave of response and know what I'm walking into beforehand. Agent Rodney: By then all the fun could already be over. Agent Polk: Yeah, yeah… all the "fun". Okay, you sweep that way, I'll head past the gardening tools here; we'll meet up again at the greenhouse area in back. Agent Rodney: Roger that. [The agents separate and proceed to search the store, section by section.] Agent Polk: It's quiet. Agent Rodney: Aren't you going to say "too quiet"? Agent Polk: Too quiet for what? It's a hobby shop on a Wednesday afternoon, of course it wouldn't be busy. Agent Rodney: But I haven't seen any employees around either. Agent Polk: Huh. Good point. Agent Rodney: Aha! Here we go… Are you close to the greenhouse yet? Join me in aisle 8, if you could, please. Agent Polk: What's the deal? Agent Rodney: Oh, you'll want to see this for yourself. [Agent Rodney approaches from behind a small group of people gathered in one aisle.] Agent Polk: Sure I will… Be there in a minute. [Agent Rodney maneuvers to the front of the crowd. Under a sales display for Venus Flytrap plants, video captures one particular instance moving irregularly and emitting sounds; its attention seems to be focused on an adjacent display of succulents.] SCP-8037: singing (in harmony with itself) Oooh, please say that you'll be mine! (Say you'll be mine!) If you would hold me in your arms, I wouldn't mind the spines! (I wouldn't mind!) So darling don't be prickly, please answer me quickly, Pretty desert cactus flower, say that you'll be mine! (Say you'll be mine!) [Sparse applause from a confused-looking audience.] Agent Polk: Oh lord… So this is it, huh? [SCP-8037 uses its vines and movement capabilities to maneuver itself closer to the cactus. It then attempts to embrace the cactus, entangling itself among the limbs and skewering itself upon the spines.] Agent Rodney: Uhh… Eddie! The damn thing malfunctioned again! Agent Polk: Oh? Umm… Right. I'm on top of it, boss. Agent Rodney: Sorry for this, folks! I'm afraid our promotional display isn't working properly at this time. Agent Polk: But do be sure to watch "World of Wondrous Plants" on your streaming services at home! Agent Rodney: Eddie, hush! Just get that contraption out of here. [A store employee approaches.] Gentleman: What's the meaning of all this ruckus? Agent Rodney: Are you the manager on duty here? Gentleman: Manager? I'm the owner of this store! Agent Rodney: Well that's perfect then. My colleague here will clean this up; how about you and I go somewhere a bit more private to finish this conversation? [Agent Rodney disseminates a cover story involving viral marketing promotion for an upcoming television program. Agent Polk prepares SCP-8037 for transportation.] [END LOG] Afterword: All relevant witnesses were administered Class-A amnestics. Following acquisition, SCP-8037 was transferred to Site-16 for long-term containment. Addendum-02: Initial Interview Foreword: SCP-8037 has been placed in Testing Chamber 07 for purposes of recording an interview. Dr. Nathan Reed supervising; Researcher Brianna Humphrey conducting. [BEGIN LOG] [Researcher Humphrey enters the testing chamber.] SCP-8037: (singing) Georgia claimed her, Georgia named her, Sweet little Georgia Brown! Researcher Humphrey: Has this been going on the whole time? SCP-8037: (scat performance of Sweet Georgia Brown continues) Dr. Reed: Yes. They want to perform when anybody's there, they seem to run rehearsals when anybody's not. I don't know what to tell you. Researcher Humphrey: (sigh) The sooner we start, the sooner we can finish. [Researcher Humphrey takes a seat and organizes her pens, pencils, and notepad on the table.] Researcher Humphrey: We're recording, yes? Dr. Reed: Proceed whenever you're ready. Researcher Humphrey: Alright. SCP-8037, I'd like for us to have a conversation. [SCP-8037 concludes its prior song.] Researcher Humphrey: Can you tell me anything about yourself? SCP-8037: Ya hear that, fellas? She wants to know all about us! Let's give her our opening number. Researcher Humphrey: There's no need for singing, just— SCP-8037: singing (in harmony with itself) We're those four boys that you've seen, A potted plant, our leaves so green, We make salads jealous by the bowlful (By the bowlful) [Researcher Humphrey turns away to look back at Dr. Reed.] SCP-8037: singing (in harmony with itself) But the most impressive thing, Is the way we dance and sing, With our golden voices, oh so soulful (So so soulful) Researcher Humphrey: Am I seriously supposed to work with this? SCP-8037: singing (in harmony with itself) We hope that it's not too shady, When we see a pretty lady, We can't help but sing songs of romancing (Of romance…-ing) [SCP-8037 has used its tendrils to seize the stationery from the table and donned folded paper hats, while also twirling the pens and pencils like batons.] SCP-8037: singing (in harmony with itself) Here comes this part of our act, Walking sticks and fancy hats, And now it's time we do a little dancing (It's time for dancing) Researcher Humphrey: Ugh! All my notes! I have two more interviews to do before lunch, and then archival duty all afternoon. I don't have time for putting up with this! Dr. Reed: Do you need Security in there? Researcher Humphrey: Security, Containment Techs; you can come in here and take this thing back to the greenhouse yourself, for all I care. I'm leaving. [Researcher Humphrey concludes the interview session.] [END LOG] Afterword: "Researcher Humphrey has received a reprimand, stressing the importance of maintaining composure in Interview situations and persistently seeking to extract data." — Dr. Reed Addendum-03: Subsequent Interview Foreword: Following a series of tests and observations on the biology of SCP-8037, it has been decided to resume attempts at communication or gaining psychological insight. Note: The audio recording was not operating correctly for the first portion of this log. [BEGIN LOG] [Video shows Researcher Humphrey enter the chamber. Humphrey places pens, pencils, notepad, and a small bag on the table.] [Researcher Humphrey feeds SCP-8037 from the contents of the bag, then sits across the table and begins writing in her notepad.] Dr. Reed: Brianna, would you please check the microphone's connection? [Researcher Humphrey inspects and adjusts the device] Researcher Humphrey : -check. Can you hear me now? Dr. Reed: Yes. You began the interview without me? Researcher Humphrey: Well, you were running a few minutes late. I didn't see the harm in it. Dr. Reed: I could have told you the mic wasn't receiving. None of the audio before now was picked up! Researcher Humphrey: Oh, well that's fine. SCP-8037 isn't in such a talkative mood this morning anyway. [SCP-8037 is humming a tune and dancing along, its main leaves remaining closed.] Dr. Reed: What? Why? Researcher Humphrey: I also performed a feeding before you got in. There's a nutrient supplement here we apply to the feed pieces, but it has this… sticky… consistency to it. Kind of like taffy. Dr. Reed: So you came early, and impeded the interview before I got here? Researcher Humphrey: That's absurd! Merely a scheduling conflict between overworked staff, in a facility with equipment which is behind on maintenance… Dr. Reed: Remind me to omit that later. Keep such discussions between you and the appropriate channels, not on SCP documents. Researcher Humphrey: I'm just saying. Dr. Reed: Never mind. This still won't look good on us. What's the use of this interview been, thanks to this happening? Researcher Humphrey: I'm studying its movements. Dr. Reed: (sigh) [END LOG] Afterword: "The vines have shown a propensity for arranging themselves to mimic a roughly human form. SCP-8037 demonstrated its version of several swing era dances, such as The Charleston and The Carolina Shag." —Researcher Humphrey Addendum-04: Final Interview Foreword: Further inquiry into the nature of SCP-8037, via direct communication, will be carried out. Note: An experimental test condition will be applied in conjunction in this interview. [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Reed: How are we feeling this morning? Researcher Humphrey: Everything's great. Dr. Reed: So are we going to conduct a productive interview today? Researcher Humphrey: You bet. Dr. Reed: And where did this note about an "experimental test condition" come from? [Researcher Humphrey reveals a pot with a mundane Venus flytrap plant in it.] Researcher Humphrey: Ta-daa! Dr. Reed: You put a little bow on top? Researcher Humphrey: For a feminine touch. Dr. Reed: (chuckle) Just don't tell me her name is Audrey. Researcher Humphrey: What? Dr. Reed: Haven't you seen that movie? Researcher Humphrey: I have no clue what you're talking about. Dr. Reed: Huh… Okay then. But what's the point here? Researcher Humphrey: I think it'll be easier to sit through this if I'm not the object of this thing's… "admiration". It nearly hugged itself to death on a cactus, so it must like plants most of all. Dr. Reed: Fine, I'll give you a chance here. But remember you're on thin ice already, so this better work out. [Researcher Humphrey enters the chamber.] [SCP-8037 is performing vocal exercises.] [Researcher Humphrey approaches the table.] [SCP-8037 perks up.] SCP-8037: Look who's here, boys! Are we ready? A-one, and a-two, and a-one, two, three. SCP-8037: singing (in harmony with itself) Hello my honey, Hello my darling, Hello my ragtime gal, (My sweet gal) Send me a kiss by wire, (By wire) — Researcher Humphrey: (interrupting) Now now, fellas. You know I can't do that. SCP-8037: But baby… my heart's on fire. Researcher Humphrey: Yes, I am aware. But perhaps I do have something to help in that regard. SCP-8037: Could it be? Is love in the air? Dr. Reed: Is it actually responding to you? Researcher Humphrey: I think by now we have some rapport built up between us; don't interrupt now. SCP-8037: singing (in harmony with itself) Oh how long it's been, Since last we have seen, A sweetheart to love tender and true It's a sad lonesome scene, Behind our leaves red and green, On the inside we're feeling so blue [Researcher Humphrey reveals the mundane plant to SCP-8037 and places it on the table.] SCP-8037: Get a gander at this gorgeous gal! Researcher Humphrey: (Using a higher pitch voice) "Well how do you do, sweetie pie!" SCP-8037: singing (in harmony with itself) I must be looking at the finest, Beauty of the Carolinas, This darling is a masterpiece so rare (She's oh so rare) Much more than just a raggy weed, She's everything I'd ever need, If only her and I could be a pair (Oh what a pair!) Well I hope that it's not too soon, But we could get married in June, I feel that's where our fate's heading (Where fates are heading) Into my vines you would swoon, We'll dance in the light of the moon, Just you and I on the night of our glorious wedding! (A big grand wedding!) [SCP-8037 maneuvers itself closer to the mundane plant. SCP-8037 pulls the plant into a close embrace, and then ceases further activity.] Dr. Reed: What's happened to it? Researcher Humphrey: Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe it was just acting out because it felt lonely before now? Dr. Reed: That's speculative. Resesrcher Humphrey: Speculation is pretty much all we can do in a case like this, isn't it? And now we've gained more data to speculate on. Dr. Reed: Yes, I suppose we have. Researcher Humphrey: This seems like the end of today's interview here; can we wrap it up? I'd like the extra time to ensure Test Chamber 6 is correctly prepped for the session in there. Dr. Reed: Very well. I'll page the Containment Technicians to come return 8037 to the greenhouse. [Researcher Humphrey exits the chamber.] [END LOG] Afterword: Upon subsequent review of video recorded between the time when Researcher Humphrey left the room and when Containment Technicians entered to transport SCP-8037 to its chamber, the leaves of the mundane plant appeared to slowly curl into a grin. Footnotes 1. Dionaea muscipula ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8037" by Nickthebrick1, Boogey_Man23, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8037. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Flytrap.jpg Name: Dionaea muscipula trap.jpg Author: che License: CC BY-SA 2.5 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-8038 | keter | Pridefest meets Sailor Moon in a short romp about magical girl anime in the 1990s and finding yourself in the face of opposition. close Info X CW: This article contains misgendering of a trans character. Written by DianaBerry and JackalRelated. ⚠️ content warning Item #: SCP-8038 Level 2/8038 Classified The title card of Sparkling Butterfly. Special Containment Procedures: Foundation Webcrawler Delta-414 (“RONDO REVOLUTION”) is to search the web for all mentions of SCP-8038. Upon discovery, all instances are to be removed and downloaded onto a secure hard drive; all content is to be archived before deletion. Further action on SCP-8038 is being deliberated. Description: SCP-8038 refers to Episode 79 of the 1993 Japanese anime Sparkling Butterfly. On June 1st, 2022, SCP-8038 began to appear on both illegal and legal anime streaming sites and platforms online, as well as retroactively on previously-released physical media (VHS, Laserdisc, Blu-Ray, etc.). As only 78 episodes were produced, the sudden existence of a fully-created 79th episode, as well as its appearance on physical media was determined significant enough for Foundation intervention. Additionally, while the original 78 episodes of Sparkling Butterfly would often focus on either regular life for Fujimiya or her battles against the evil Crystallizing as the mahou shoujo1 Sparkling Butterfly, SCP-8038 focuses on the titular character reconciling with the main villain of the series. It is also notable that SCP-8038's run time is significantly shorter than any of the episodes of the original series with a run time of approximately 10 minutes, as opposed to the normal 24 minutes and ten seconds. The following excerpts are taken from the English Wikipedia article for familiarization purposes. Sparkling Butterfly (Japanese: 煌めきバタフライ, Hepburn: Kirameki Batofurai) also stylized as Sparkling! 🦋 BUTTERFLY ( キラキラ🦋タフライ, Kirakira Batofurai), is a Japanese magical girl anime television series written and produced by Sakura Animations which aired from 1993 to 1995 on MiraiTV and ran for two seasons with a total run of 78 episodes. The series follows Ageha Fujimiya, a 15-year-old high school student who is recruited by the mysterious Dumach and taught how to transform into the magical Sparkling Butterfly, a superheroine with the ability to fight the evil empress Crystallizing who wishes to corrupt the world. While not fighting evil, Fujimiya deals with her daily life and growing up. In North America and Europe, the anime was released through online streaming on the AnimePalace streaming service. Due to the series' cult status, an official blu-ray was also released in 2018. No English dub has been produced for the series. Characters Ageha Fujimiya (藤宮 揚羽, Fujimiya Ageha) / Sparkling Butterfly (スパークリング・バタフライ, Supākuringu Batofurai) Voiced by: Masuyo Inoue A kind 15-year-old girl that attends Itogahara High School. She is cheerful and upbeat, with many friends in her class. After being given the power to transform into the superheroine Sparkling Butterfly by Dumach, she promises to fight the monsters sent by her arch-rival, Crystallizing. She loves gardening, insects, and nature. Aspires to be an entomologist. At the end of the series, she chooses to be the last holder of the Sparkling Butterfly title. Minami Suzuki (鈴木 みなみ, Suzuki Minami) Voiced by: Chiho Yonemura A 15-year-old girl who is Fujimiya's best friend. She is the only one who knows about Fujimiya's ability to transform into Sparkling Butterfly. Although powerless, she supports her best friend and often covers for Fujimiya in class so she can defeat Crystallizing. She is a lot shyer than Fujimiya but very friendly once she is able to connect with someone new. Haruki Yamamoto (山本 春木, Yamamoto Haruki) Voiced by: Tetsuya Kagawa A popular 17-year-old boy who also attends Itogahara High School. He is charming and elegant, which has caused almost every girl in the school to fall for him, including Fujimiya. He is friends with Fujimiya and Suzuki, and it is implied that he has a crush on Suzuki. One of the series's running gags involves him loudly praising Sparkling Butterfly's efforts in front of Fujimiya. Nobu Shimada (島田 城, Shimada Nobu) / Crystallizing (クリスタライジング, Kurisutaraijingu) Voiced by: Yūri Kai An evil, chaotic adult woman with the ability to cocoon people and turn their greatest desires into a monster called a Chrysalis. Her plots are often disrupted by Fujimiya, who she considers her greatest enemy. She works in disguise at Itogahara Middle School as a PE teacher, but is initially unaware that Fujimiya is Sparkling Butterfly. In the final several episodes, it is revealed that she was the original Sparkling Butterfly. Unwillingly forced into the position by Dumach, she rebelled and was subsequently cursed by him, leading to her becoming Crystallizing. She is heavily injured in the finale, and implied to have died. Mashhit Dumach (マッシュヒーツ・ドゥーマック, Masshuhītsu Doūmakku) Voiced by: Kaneto Shiozawa A mysterious, well-dressed young man who gives Fujimiya the power to become Sparkling Butterfly. Claiming to be an emissary for good, he instructs Fujimiya to fight Crystallizing's attempts to debauch the world. At the end of the series, it is revealed that he is directly responsible for Crystallizing's condition. While mostly appearing to be an affable and friendly man, he is actually a very vindictive spider-like being that feeds on chaos and fear. In the finale, both Sparkling Butterfly and Crystallizing work together to defeat him. Addendum 01: Discovery SCP-8038 first came to Foundation attention on June 1st, 2022, when a Foundation webcrawler picked up possible anomaly keyphrases on a popular forum board dedicated to anime wherein fans of Sparkling Butterfly discussed a mysterious new 79th episode of the series. Page 201/210 » [ New Episode of Sparkling Butterfly? EP 79 ] gandamudato | JUN. 01, 2022 | #267422686 So this might not really be the place for this, but this is the anime board after all so I thought I’d post here. I was going to rewatch Sparkling Butterfly so I could make some more fanart, and on PlaceForAnime I noticed there was a 79th episode. I thought this was a mistake at first and was just like a copy of one of the other episodes, so I decided to watch it to make sure. NOPE. It’s a completely new episode and it’s still in the animation style of the original series. The plot was really strange to me, as it was about Fujimiya forgiving Crystallizing for everything she did seven years after the series ended. It also was way shorter than a normal episode at just 10 minutes. But there was one really major change that stood out. Crystallizing was a dude. Like we all know she was a woman (yes I'm aware of what the writers planned originally and all but it unfortunately doesn't count). Is this like their way of starting a reboot or something? And why didn’t they announce its release? Why dump it straight to streaming platforms? Did anyone else see this? SoleilFruit | JUN. 01, 2022 | #267422742 I saw this too, and I honestly wondered if I was going crazy. They even brought back OP1, Kagayaku! Shining Butterfly. Not that I mind the changes, but it’s something that was really strange to me. Feels like a pretty good follow up to the kinda depressing ending though. Nutrababy | JUN. 01, 2022 | #267423034 >>267423106 Sakura Animation actually posted about this on their socials They stated that they didn’t make the episode there are no plans for a reboot or anything and they’re actually trying to figure out where it came from SoleilFruit | JUN. 01, 2022 | #267423106 >>267423034 Whoa really? That’s like really weird gandamudato [OP] | JUN. 01, 2022 | #267423117 >>267423153 I just checked their socials and yep, it’s true. They also clarified that Crystallizing was "open to interpretation" but written as a woman. In the new episode, she talks about how she’s happy to finally be herself. Or uh, his self? She says that he's a guy now. Do you think a fan made this trying to project a headcanon onto the character? Like rewriting the finale? It's too high quality to be a fanwork though… Nutrababy | JUN. 01, 2022 | #267423153 >>267423452 >>#267423117 Possibly But then how would it have gotten on official streaming platforms if it was a fan project Maybe it's a leak of an anniversary special or something and they're trying to cover it up. It's almost the 30th anniversary in a couple of years so gandamudato [OP] | JUN. 01, 2022 | #267423452 >>#267423153 That’s a good point, this is really weird. CrystallizingCrystal | JUN. 01, 2022 | #267423553 >>267423699 >>267423880 >>267424525 you guys may not care about the change, but i do. like the whole point of crystallizing is she's meant to be a WOMAN. if they wanted her to be some fugly dude, it woulda been in the show. she was supposed to be the hot and sexy anime villain that fans could love like what the fuck is this woke shit lupulella-mesomelas | JUN. 01, 2022 | #267423699 File: wow-magical-girls.png (170.26 KB, 2000x1544) >>267423553 >what the fuck is this woke shit ARE YOU STUPID? Moonlightlegend | JUN. 01, 2022 | #267423452 >>267423553 Found the media illiterate. It's always the damn Crystallizing fans man. Do you have enough braincells to pick up on subtext? The show always hinted that there was something off with him, that he was longing for something he couldn't have (and no it wasn't fucking defeating Sparkling Butterfly) did you see the finale? did we even watch the same show CrystallizingCrystal | JUN. 01, 2022 | #267424097 >>267424097 SHE!!! crystallizing is a GIRL!!! a fucking dommy mommy bad bitch. stop with that woke shit Moonlightlegend | JUN. 01, 2022 | 267424221 >>267424097 low effort bait you're so gonna get banned Rev Girl Utena | JUN. 01, 2022 | #267424525 >>267423553 You legit sound like ep. 77 Dumach rn Aurabug27 | JUN. 02, 2022 | #267425290 Could anyone find out anything about who the new voice actor for Crystallizing is? Ageha sounds the exact same too which is really weird considering it's been almost 30 years and her original voice actress is in her 50s now. Plus if you look back at the promos from a couple of years ago for the blue ray she sounds noticeably different. There are no credits and I've never heard this voice actor for Crystallizing before. gandamudato [OP] | JUN. 02, 2022 | #267425380 >>#267425290 I looked into it, and I couldn't find a thing. Someone asked Masuyo Inoue, Fujimiya's seiyuu, since she's active on twitter, and she said she hasn't done any voice work for Sparkling Butterfly since the HD release. Aurabug27 | JUN. 02, 2022 | #267425452 >>267423553 This is weird as hell. gandamudato [OP] | JUN. 02, 2022 | #267425680 OK so I grabbed my HD Blu Ray to check if I could find anything in the extras on it but I swear im going crazy. The freaky part is that this episode shows up in the episode list on my DVD. My Blu Ray DVD from four years ago. Like, it's there, labeled as Episode 79. It was absolutely NOT there before man this has to be some Mandela Effect shit. Following standard protocol, the conversation was immediately remotely terminated by the Foundation under the cover of a DDoS attack and all users involved with the anomaly were administered visual memetoamnestics. Addendum 02: Episode Transcripts [67 & SCP-8038] Due to the contents of SCP-8038 being significantly different from the original series of Sparkling Butterfly, a translated transcript of the original show has been included for comparison. Full transcripts of all the episodes and SCP-8038 are available by contacting the Foundation Photo-Video Analysis Review Department [PVARD]. The following is a portion of a transcript from Episode 67. [Transcript is from 13:37-18:51 out of 24:10.] EXT. PARK - DAY Fujimiya and Suzuki are sitting at a bench in a public park, both in their school uniforms. FUJIMIYA Aaaaaauuh! It's my fault Yamamoto got in trouble… he took the blame for me! I was the one who was peeking at the contest results. SUZUKI It's not like you meant bad by it, you were only trying to see if Matsudaira was cheating. FUJIMIYA But now Yamamoto is going to be mad at me! He was just trying to hide the barrette I dropped in there… waaaaaaah, what should I do, Minami-chan? Fujimiya grabs Suzuki by the shoulders and shakes her. SUZUKI Ageha, if he really was angry at you, he wouldn't have risked trying to pick up your barrette for you! Fujimiya stops shaking Suzuki. FUJIMIYA Ah, that's true, isn't it? SUZUKI It is! If you're really worried, why don't you write him a letter? FUJIMIYA But writing letters is your thing… Suzuki reaches into her bag. SUZUKI Everyone can do it! Letters are the gateway to the soul! What's a better way to express your feelings than to write them down? She pulls out a pen and notepad and hands it to Fujimiya. SUZUKI I love writing letters to people. That's why my dream is to be a writer. So I can express my feelings in writing! Fujimiya takes the pen and paper, with a sulking frown on her face. FUJIMIYA I guess I could try it for you, Minami… Suzuki smiles and claps her hands together. SUZUKI That's the spirit! You're always trying to do the right thing, Ageha-chan. I'm sure expressing yourself will clear up everything between you and Yamamoto. A voice from behind them startles them. CRYSTALLIZING How cute. But as if writing measly little letters is going to solve anything. Crystallizing appears in the sky, floating above the two on a pack of dark-colored butterflies. Fujimiya gasps. FUJIMIYA Crystallizing! SUZUKI Do you have to ruin every nice moment? CRYSTALLIZING Hmph! The same goes for your friend. Every time I'm about to succeed, she always ruins it with her sparkly little gleams of light. But not this time! Crystallizing reaches out her hand, pointing it towards Suzuki. CRYSTALLIZING Dark wings, show the desire in her heart, and trap it where it'll never flourish! A dark aura surrounds Suzuki, causing her to fall unconscious. She is lifted into the sky, a dark cocoon wrapping itself around her. After she is trapped, a giant monster shaped like an envelope with a butterfly seal appears. It ROARS. FUJIMIYA Minami, wait for me! I'll protect you! The background is replaced with a glowing orange and gold aura. A sparkling silhouette of Fujimiya is seen. A butterfly-themed wand appears in her hand. Her hair falls out of the low pigtails it's in, now flowing loose. Fujimiya waves the wand over her head, her hair growing longer, then moves to tie itself up in two large high ponytails. Next, she points the wand over her torso, a puffy-sleeved top and a short but multiple-layered frilly skirt appears. She points the wand at her legs, thigh-length stockings with lace at the top appearing. She then points the wand to her feet, two orange heels with golden butterflies at the toe of each shoe forming. Short gloves form around her hands. Lastly, she points the wand at her face. Makeup appears on her face, and her eyes turn from brown to orange. Sparkling Butterfly lands on the ground in a pose, ready to fight. She looks at the cocoon Minami has been trapped in, an angry expression on her face. SPARKLING BUTTERFLY (FUJIIMIYA) You’ve really done it this time, Crystallizing! The monster starts towards Sparkling Butterfly. She dodges the attack, swiftly moving to the side. CRYSTALLIZING Oh? Is this what angers you, Little Sparkler? I’d argue I’ve done much worse. Crystallizing places a finger on her chin. Sparkling Butterfly jumps up into the air. She does a flip, then jumps towards the giant monster, kicking it with extreme force, causing it to stumble backward with a loud groan. SPARKLING BUTTERFLY You turned my precious Minami into a Chrysalis! I didn’t think you’d stoop so low! What did she do to you, huh? Crystallizing throws her head back, giving a hearty laugh. CRYSTALLIZING What did she do to me? What did she do to me? It’s not about what she did to me. Or about what anyone I target has done to me. You wouldn't understand! You're just a child. You don't live in reality! Chrysalis, after her! The Chrysalis gets back up from the ground, starting after Sparkling Butterfly once more. Sparkling Butterfly dodges its punch once again. SPARKLING BUTTERFLY I live in reality more than you do! I help my parents with their business! I attend school and keep my grades high! And I have to stop you from terrorizing innocent people! All Minami wanted was to show herself through her letters! What do you want, huh? To ruin people’s lives? Crystallizing scoffs. CRYSTALLIZING Don't joke around. All you do is what people tell you to do! Life doesn't care for what people want or hope. Once you understand that, the better off you'll be! That's the real truth! Chrysalis, don’t just stand there, get her! The Chrysalis starts towards Sparkling Butterfly, successfully landing a hit, causing the girl to be thrown into a nearby building. Sparkling Butterfly slowly pushes herself back up to stand. SPARKLING BUTTERFLY You're right, I don't understand that, and I never will! I won't ever live like that! The background behind Sparkling Butterfly becomes sparkling hues of orange and gold. She raises her wand up. SPARKLING BUTTERFLY Sparkling Butterfly Sparkle Bomb! A still from Episode 67. Sparkling Butterfly aims the wand at the Chrysalis. It is soon blasted by the ray of sparkles and orange butterflies, causing it to disappear. SPARKLING BUTTERFLY Spread your wings, Minami! The cocoon holding an unconscious Suzuki gently folds open, causing her to fall down from the sky. Sparkling Butterfly dashes over to Suzuki, catching the girl. An angry expression is on Crystallizing’s face. CRYSTALLIZING Of course you save your little friend and the day once again! That’s all you ever want. You'll never learn! Crystallizing disappears in a cloud of black butterflies. Sparkling Butterfly looks down at her unconscious friend, and strokes her hair. SPARKLING BUTTERFLY Unforgivable. What does Crystallizing want? She constantly puts innocent people in danger. I will always protect the world from her! What she wants will never matter to anyone! The following is the transcript of SCP-8038, Episode 79. The opening titles of Sparkling Butterfly plays. EXT. PARK - DAY Fujimiya and Suzuki approach a bench in the park covered by a tree. Suzuki is wearing a jacket and a t-shirt with slacks; Fujimiya is wearing dress shirt and dress pants. Suzuki is holding onto Fujimiya, her arm interlinked with Fujimiya's. They stop short a small distance away from the bench. Suzuki turns towards Fujimiya. SUZUKI My opinion on this is still the same… but if you need me, give me a shout and I'll step in, okay? She leans in and kisses her on the cheek. FUJIMIYA It'll be just like back then. I promise! SUZUKI That's what I'm worried about… Fujimiya breaks off from Suzuki and approaches the bench. Sitting at the bench is CRYSTALLIZING: his body type is more masculine, and he's wearing jeans and a sweater. He leans back in the bench as Fujimiya approaches and sits down. After sitting in silence for about a minute, Fujimiya speaks. FUJIMIYA I suppose I should start, then. CRYSTALLIZING No, I should. It was a real longshot — I expected to… I wasn't really prepared. He sighs. CRYSTALLIZING I'm sorry for everything I put you through. I know it doesn't excuse that— FUJIMIYA You're right, it doesn't. But I've seen what you've been doing ever since then — I think that speaks more than any apology you could give me. CRYSTALLIZING Maybe. I'm not exactly proud of who I used to be. A still from SCP-8038. FUJIMIYA I should apologize, too. Back then, I'd never questioned what I'd been told — if only I had just reached out and asked… Crystallizing laughs. CRYSTALLIZING You don't need to apologize. I was the villain and you were the hero, remember? That's just the way things were written. FUJIMIYA We have other options now. CRYSTALLIZING Villains aren't supposed to get a second chance. You're supposed to defeat them and save the day. FUJIMIYA Didn't we already? Together? Both are silent for a little while. FUJIMIYA You know, it's funny that we're both themed after butterflies. Butterflies signify growth and change and becoming someone new, yet we just stayed the same all that time. Whose poor choice was that? Crystallizing smirks. CRYSTALLIZING I think we know the answer to that better than anyone else. FUJIMIYA It's in our hands now, at least. CRYSTALLIZING I appreciate you giving me this, Fujimiya. I never wanted to be like that. I never asked for it. (beat) I’m happy I get to be who I want to be now, but I'm not sure I deserve it. FUJIMIYA There's no excuse for all the people you hurt, but you've tried every moment since you recovered to atone for what you did. In that process, you found yourself. You deserve that happiness. What kind of hero would I be if I didn't give everyone a chance? Crystallizing leans back in the bench further. CRYSTALLIZING I could learn a thing or two from you. FUJIMIYA I'm only paying back the favor. Now that you're who you want to be… what is your dream? CRYSTALLIZING What's my dream? He pauses. CRYSTALLIZING I can't say I've thought about it. FUJIMIYA That's okay! As Minami always tells me, there's always time to find it. Speaking of — Fujimiya stands up. FUJIMIYA I promised her I'd keep it short. She says she won't ever forgive you, but — and don't tell her this — sometimes I catch her reminiscing about those days in PE with our beloved Shimada-sensei. CRYSTALLIZING Calling me that only makes me feel old. Just call me Nobuhiko, okay? FUJIMIYA That's a good name. Okay, Mr. Nobuhiko then. Bye for now, but you know how to contact me! I want to talk to you again sometime, alright? He nods. Fujimiya stands up and walks back over to Suzuki. As the two start to walk away, Suzuki turns around and waves back at Crystallizing. He returns the wave, and Suzuki continues walking with Fujimiya. CRYSTALLIZING quietly Kids nowadays… He covers his face in his hands and softly cries. The closing credits of Sparkling Butterfly plays. Addendum 03: Containment Procedure Deliberation After a period of discussion with media containment specialists, it was decided that the containment procedures will be as follows: The Foundation will conduct a disinformation campaign with the assistance of Sakura Animations that SCP-8038 is the 79th episode; while unreleased on television, it was included in all home media releases and also remastered in 2018 for the 25th anniversary. Any previous online activity that contradicts this cover story is to be erased. Monitoring of changes in SCP-8038 behavior will continue. However, due to the acceptance of SCP-8038 by the show's community and lack of further anomalous activity, it is highly likely that any further Foundation intervention (if at all) will be extremely minimal. A suggested object class change to Safe, pending Neutralized is in the process of being approved as well. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8038" by DianaBerry, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8038. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: SB Author: DianaBerry License: CC-BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/scp-8038/SB Filename: sparkling-butterfly-sm.png, sparkling-butterfly-med.png Author: JackalRelated License: CC-BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-8038/sparkling-butterfly-sm.png https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-8038/sparkling-butterfly-med.png Derivative of: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Wrinkled_Paper_Texture_Free_Creative_Commons_(6816216700).jpg https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:FREE_Wrinkled_Fabric_Paper_Texture_Creative_Commons_(4798631357).jpg Additional Notes: Made with textures from the above link. Filename: Crystalizing Author: DianaBerry License: CC-BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/scp-8038/Crystallizing Filename: wow-magical-girls-sm.png, wow-magical-girls.png Author: JackalRelated License: CC-BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-8038/wow-magical-girls-sm.png https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-8038/wow-magical-girls.png Footnotes 1. "Mahou shoujo" means magical girl. |
SCP-8039 | euclid | Item #: SCP-8039 Containment Client: West California Government, a subsidiary of the FunBob Soft Drink Corporation. Containment Package: Deluxe Containment Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8039 is currently contained on Floor 28 of Site-277, located in the Gradient District of MacroCity 11 (“Lutetia Parisiorum”). SCP-8039 is to be fed a synthetic bovine three two times a day in accordance with Nutritional Chart 8039-3. Due to SCP-8039’s hostility, these feedings are to be performed via crane — or, in the event that this is not possible, a member of D-Class personnel. Any eggs produced following feeding sessions are to be incinerated using the modules built into the containment chamber's floor. In accordance with the Deluxe Containment Package, research on SCP-8039 that does not directly pertain to its containment is currently forbidden. Please note that the SCP Corporation is currently pursuing missed payments from the Containment Client regarding this anomaly. As such, these containment procedures are liable to change in the near future. Description: SCP-8039 is a mollusk of abnormal size, approximately eight feet tall and six feet wide. It is superficially similar in appearance to a common nutrition-snail, with the exception of an engorged human face protruding from the head region and a mechanical structure fused with its back. While SCP-8039 originally possessed a natural shell, this appears to have been replaced at some point with the wreckage of a Ford Swan, which it has crudely incorporated into its anatomy. The means by which this was accomplished is as-of-yet unclear. SCP-8039 has demonstrated mild telepathic capabilities — namely, the ability to detect emotional states over long distances. It primarily uses this as a means of locating food sources, or avoiding potential predators. When agitated, the strength of this telepathy increases considerably: it has been observed inducing violent rage and self-destructive despair in others when it feels it is under threat. Despite its size and bulk, SCP-8039 has proven to be surprisingly fast, capable of moving at speeds of 40km/h over short distances to devour prey. SCP-8039 is carnivorous and seems to prefer a human food source — this is believed to be an acquired taste following its initial escape from the site of its creation. Following feeding, SCP-8039 will lay eight to ten eggs, which will gestate and hatch over a twelve-hour period. While procedure dictates that these eggs be incinerated before they hatch, evidence suggests that the offspring produced by them would possess the same anomalous properties as SCP-8039. It is believed that SCP-8039 originated from genetic engineering experiments on the part of our client, presumably to create larger and more pleasant-tasting nutrition snails. Per the Deluxe Containment Package's discretion guarantee, this has not been confirmed. Following SCP-8039's escape from its original site of origin, the SCP Corporation were brought in to provide containment. Addendum 8039-1 (Lack of Payment) Please note that the Corporation has not received payment for the client for six months at the time of writing — as such, the continued containment of SCP-8039 is in question. The SCP Financial Department is currently chasing payment from the client. Please refer to the documentation below for the present situation. 01/08/2029 To our valued client, It appears that we are yet to receive the agreed upon payment for your last three months of containment services. This is in reference to Case 2920-8039, currently in contract under our Deluxe Containment Package. If I may be so bold, could I inquire if your containment needs with this anomaly have changed? The Corporation understands that situations may arise where meeting payments may not always be easy. If you'd like to call in and speak to one of our Pseudo-Human Customer Representatives, I'm sure they'd be happy to discuss options for alternative payment plans with you. Please contact us at your earliest convenience. Hoping to hear from you soon, Sadie from SCP 01/09/2029 To our valued client, Please be aware that we are yet to receive payment for the last three months of containment for Case 2920-8039. We can only provide these services if you meet your financial requirements per the contract. Your contributions help us keep our range of containment packages up-to-date and top-of-the-line. If you are having difficulties making the payments for our Deluxe Containment Package, might I suggest downgrading to our Standard Containment Package? Given SCP-8039's generally docile nature, this may be a better fit for your needs. Our science team have proposed the following avenues for research under the Standard Containment Package: SCP-8039's emotional radar, if reverse-engineered, could prove an effective form of surveillance. Accompanied by other forms of paratech, we are confident in our ability to develop a dynamic 'humanity tracker' that could assist with security concerns worldwide. The means by which SCP-8039 has bonded with the car on its back is extremely interesting. Despite the rudimentary nature of the connection, it has proven able to activate the car's headlights to help it navigate darkened areas. If given permission under the Standard Containment Package, we can harvest SCP-8039's gel — if utilized properly, it could help to reduce rejection syndrome with cybernetic implants. Gene-splicing from SCP-8039 can open up new possibilities for alternative human reproduction in areas suffering from sterility plagues. We would be happy to consider further discounts based on your response to the above. One of our Pseudo-Human Customer Representatives will be in contact later this week to discuss options with you. Hoping to hear you soon, Sadie from SCP 01/10/2029 This is your final warning. You have failed to fulfill payment requirements for five months. As such, your containment contract for SCP-8039 is now being terminated. Please be aware the early termination charge for this amounts to a total of £113,372,550.29. Per the agreed upon contract, if we do not receive outstanding payments for the last five months, we will have no choice but to release SCP-8039 onto your property at a time and place of our convenience. In order to avoid damage or injury, we urge you to contact one of our Pseudo-Human Customer Representatives immediately. Please keep in mind that — if your early termination charge is not paid — we are authorized to pursue lost value via asset seizure and our Debtor-Class program. Hoping to hear from you soon, Sadie from SCP ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8039" by Tanhony, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8039. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. |
SCP-8040 | safe | A cute mug that somehow lets water behave whimsically. SCP-8040 filled with coffee. Item #: SCP-8040 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8040 is to be kept within a standard storage unit for low-risk anomalous items. Tests regarding SCP-8040 should be requested in advance to obtain written approvals, then log in detail within this documentation. Because of its fragile nature, SCP-8040 must be handled with adequate discretion to prevent damage or demolishment. Description: SCP-8040 is a white mug made of typical ceramics with a thin glaze, which is approximately 10 cm in height and 8 cm in diameter, and has an oval handle able to be gripped with ease. It was first recovered from a civilian's possession secondhand, who claimed to have purchased SCP-8040 from a local retail store, afterward spotted its "unusual water leakage" when used and hence sold it online as titled a "divination cup". Upon retrieval, a sticker was found on one side of SCP-8040, with simple graphic instructions depicting a way of its usage, shown as a step-by-step guide to fill SCP-8040 with water, then use a teaspoon to scoop a sip of water out from it onto flat surfaces to observe the shape of the spill. Four different instances were illustrated on it, indicating how could the user interpret the results as auguries for anything they wish to query. The illustration's scanned version. When SCP-8040 is filled with water or some types of other liquids (see Experiment Log 1 below for further references) and handled by a human subject, who then verbally states an event that will presumably happen in the future, then either scoops the liquid by spoons or directly pours it out from SCP-8040 to a flat surface (e.g., a tabletop), the liquid spill will morph and shift to fit its shape loosely into the four aforementioned categories of the "auspices" to represent a predicted outcome for the subject's question. The shape varies in a small range yet is still distinctly identifiable. The results of this process were proved to be relatively accurate. The sticker was later unglued and dropped off from the mug due to repetitive water drench, but this does not seem to affect the anomalous property of SCP-8040. ▷ Show Experiment Log 1 ▽ Hide Experiment Log 1 Time: Feb 14, 2021. Procedures: A coin was placed on the table alongside with SCP-8040, which was half-full with potable water. Dr. Alexis Talcite picked the cup up, and then said "Will the coin succeed in being head up?", then used a metal spoon to scoop water. Right after that, the spoon accidentally fell onto the desk. Dr. Talcite denied mishandling, commented this was weird, and repeated the procedure, but this time changed the question to "Will I succeed in seeing the coin's head up?". Result: The water was prudently shed onto the table in a fairly slow motion. At first, the large drip remained as a whole, but then quickly self-splitted into two separate drips within four seconds, representing the "Failure" result, and finally stopped moving. Dr. Talcite tossed the coin and got its tail up. Time: Feb 15, 2021. Procedures: Researcher Milo Norris filled in SCP-8040 with 75% alcohol and put it on a glass table. After drinking a small sip out of it through a straw, Norris started the procedure by asking "Can I be the first one to leave the site today?", then used the straw to transfer a small amount of alcohol out of SCP-8040 to the glass tabletop. Result: The bead remained still as a whole droplet for about one minute until it slowly vaporized away. Researcher Norris then left and locked the lab, descended to the first floor to the main gate, and then came back to the containment center after half an hour. She repeated the procedure. This time, the droplet began to transpose unstably once after it touched the glass table. It shifted around for a dozen of centimeters before it stopped, unresponsive to Norris touching it with the metal straw. Finally, it settled into an irregular shape, denoting the "out of expectation" result, then vaporized at an uncommonly high speed. Time: Mar 3, 2021. Procedures: ~100 cc of gasoline was used to fill up SCP-8040 to investigate whether impotable liquids could work on it. Researcher Norris queried "Can we succeed in facilitating the new AI system to ensure it works well in the upcoming year?". Result: The oil spill was totally inert. After Norris doubted if she had to prove she could drink the diesel to trigger its reaction, a versatile carriage powered by a diesel engine was utilized by Dr. Talcite to grasp SCP-8040 and dictate the same request by its mechanical voice. It was still seen to be unresponsive. SCP-8040 was later cleaned up thoroughly. Time: Mar 31, 2021. Procedures: Agent Iris Thompson applied for a test on SCP-8040 and made a cup of coffee using the public coffee machine located in the cafeteria of Site-17. She finished the coffee, left a little, then spoke up the query "Will it be possible for me to meet them again anymore?" in a vague tone. A metal spoon was used to scoop some coffee out from SCP-8040. Result: The spill didn't seem to react at first. Since Thompson had placed her phone next to SCP-8040, some bits of coffee accidentally splashed onto the screen and lit the screen up. The larger blob beside it shrank to an apparently irregular shape, while suddenly, the virtual typing keyboard on Thompson's phone popped up without being touched at all. The keys were activated by scattered sprinkles of coffee, which were sliding and flowing automatically on the screen. It gradually typed a sentence out by this method in the message input area, read as "idk but maybe on ur next mission". No further actions of SCP-8040 were noticed after this. Addendum 8040.1: Inspired by the last experiment log above, testing on SCP-8040's potential to interact with electronics was arranged. ▷ Show Experiment Log 2 ▽ Hide Experiment Log 2 Time: Mar 31, 2021. Procedures: Agent Holan Wessel used drinkable warm water to try to establish communication with SCP-8040 under the assistance of Dr. Talcite. A tablet computer was placed horizontally on the desk next to SCP-8040 before Wessel introduced his question"Can all of those people in my team complete this task and return in safety?". Water was then intentionally dripped onto the screen. Result: At first the screen didn't activate. Next, it was manually turned on, and the input keyboard was pinned to its desktop to allow water from SCP-8040 to conduct capacitance1 on the screen. The water drops stayed silent for a short while, then drew near to each other, coalesced, and fused into a whole. A single word of "fine" was typed in the text box during this process. Then the water remained on the position of the space button and then kept inanimate. Time: Apr 1, 2021. Procedures: Dr. Talcite dispensed coffee from a self-made coffee machine situated in his office into SCP-8040. An empty draft of a drawing software along with an emulated keyboard window was opened in advance on a touch terminal. He started by asking SCP-8040 the same question Researcher Norris brought up but didn't get answered in Log 1, then sprinkled coffee on the screen with a ceramic teaspoon. Result: The liquid drop quickly dispersed into numerous tiny droplets, while not generating any text. Dr. Talcite wiped it off and started the test over again, going by another prompt: "Do you believe that AIs need something more than logic and rationality?". This time, the droplet produced by SCP-8040 stayed as a rounded whole, and glided smoothly over the white space of the drawing canvas, leaving a black trace in the perfect shape of a heart. Time: Apr 3, 2021. Procedures: Dr. Skyler Estinteco dripped purified water from SCP-8040 to their phone screen after asking "Will we get better and find the serenity and content of our lives?". Result: The water drop contracted into a radial pattern on the screen, and then typed "only if u r here" into the blank memo before it halted and eventually dried out. Footnotes 1. Most touch screens detect fingers' touches by constantly monitoring the change in electrical capacitance, which can be easily altered by conductive materials. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8040" by Dr Talcite, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8040. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: 1024px-Mug_of_Tea.JPG Name: Mug of Tea Author: Factorylad License: Public domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Filename: cup-illustration.png Author: Dr Talcite License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: http://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/local--files/maxwellism/cup-illustration.png |
SCP-8041 | safe | Item#: 8041 Level4 Secondary Class: ticonderoga Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo Special Containment Procedures: As of time of writing, there are no recommended containment procedures for SCP-8041. SCP-8041-1 is currently remanded at Site-19. All research staff assigned to its containment are to be given refresher sessions on the nature of SCP-8041 and SCP-8041-1 with standard onboarding materials every five days to ensure efficacy of containment. All photographic and written evidence referring to or depicting SCP-8041-1, including this article and all attached addendums, is subject to ongoing cognitohazardous properties that act as a cognitohazardous 'half-life' resulting from a use of SCP-8041-1 some time in the past. As a result of these properties, all evidence relating to SCP-8041-1 automatically self-effaces over a period of around six minutes. All documentation relating to SCP-8041-1 should be reloaded regularly when viewing digitally to mitigate the impact of this effect. Automated photocopying systems have been set up onsite to ensure the preservation of evidence pertaining to SCP-8041-1. Description: SCP-8041 is the apparent lack of archaeological and palaeontological evidence of anomalies prior to the mid-16th century. An exact date of SCP-8041's origin is not currently confirmed, although Foundation researchers within the Anomalogenesis Department currently suggest 1527 as the year in which anomalies as the Foundation understands them came into existence. While SCP-8041's existence has been apparent for a large part of the Foundation's history, its existence as an anomaly in itself was first hypothesised by Foundation researcher Dr. Victor Titov in his lecture, 'How Have We Become Masters Of The Unreal?', delivered to junior Foundation researchers on June 4th, 1998, an excerpt from which is attached here in Addendum A. This lecture caused a stir in the Foundation's research community; however Dr. Titov was killed by a bus crash while holidaying at Lake Huron in 2002, and so the field of anomalogenesis remained largely unexplored.1 Dr. Titov's line of work was later codified in the creation of the Anomalogenesis Department, after junior Foundation researcher Dr. Lauren Hiskey suggested its practical importance in maintaining the veil in her own paper, 'Predictive Methods and Lazarus Taxa in Foundation Operations', excerpts from which are attached in Addendum B.2 As a result of the paper's success, Dr. Hiskey was awarded a research grant and made chair of the Anomalogenesis Department, which at that time consisted of only her. During a period of extended leave due to an ongoing internal financial review, Dr. Hiskey discovered an 'extremely promising' invoice for a transaction dated 5th of November, 1499, addressed to wealthy Venetian merchant Alexander Dodario and forwarded it to fellow researcher and department member Dr. Bradley Meung-Soo.3 The invoice, translated from its original Venetian, is available in Addendum C. After failing to have the invoice investigated through official channels, Dr. Hiskey privately collaborated with Security Chief Patricio Ravon using the remainder of her research grant to conduct a physical investigation of La Cavalla Bianca, a boarding-house mentioned in Dodario's personal correspondence as lodging for Dodario's frequent trips to Rome, referred to by Dodario as 'pilgrimage'. During this investigation, a large, empty book with cognitohazardous properties designated as SCP-8041-1 was discovered and later remanded into Foundation custody. Description of gathered photographic evidence is available below in Addendum D, including copies of the initial photographs of SCP-8041-1. Both official writeups by Dr. Hiskey and Security Chief Ravon were lost as a result of the cognitohazardous properties of SCP-8041-1. Addendums: Addendum A: Excerpt from 'How Have We Become Masters of the Unreal?' How Have We Become Masters of the Unreal? DATE: 04/06/1998 NOTE: Full lecture transcript available on request. DR TITOV: ‘The crux, then, is this. It takes the collected resources of our Foundation - a titanic, and well-oiled bureaucratic machine with resources spanning nations, to effectively contain many Keter-class objects. And even without the widespread havoc that the Keter-class might have wreaked upon the sparse townships and divided, tribal states of early mankind, even Safe and Euclid classes would, logically, have a historic tradition that was widespread and well-documented. This seemingly impossible gap in the palaeontological and archeological records must have an explanation. The theories surrounding this gap are limitless. Perhaps an unknown event somehow damaged the background hume levels of our reality to such a severe degree that the objects and beings that we study were able to come into existence, or that the seemingly impossible nature of anomalous objects has a degenerating, memetic effect on the human psyche, that causes, over time, anything that does not conform to preconceived notions of reality to be sectioned into the realm of myth and legend, if it is not placed under continued study. Perhaps even an inversion constitutes an inversion of the first - an event that retroactively removes evidence of any anomalous objects from the record of reality - retaining their cultural footprint, but obliterating the physical record to such an extreme degree that they are consigned, once again, to the realm of myth. Regardless of result, the question of the beginnings of our field of study - a question that I am dubbing, for my own purposes, anomalogenesis, is a fascinating area to which I only hope the Foundation will pay due attention.’ Addendum B: Excerpt from Dr. Hiskey's 'Predictive Methods and Lazarus Taxa in Foundation Operations' Predictive Methods and Lazarus Taxa in Foundation Operations DATE: 03/03/2002 The applications of the lazarus taxon framework to Foundation field operations reveals boundless possibilities. The apparent gap in the biological record of any lifeforms that the Foundation would consider worthy of study may not be, as previously theorised, a result of late-stage anomalogenesis in our reality, but instead a product of paranormal factors that resulted in a temporary lapse. The upshot here is that many anomalies currently on record may not be occurrences, but reoccurrences. It is possible that many of these anomalies have existed before - perhaps during a period of oral tradition, prior to a written one. In fact, there is potential that this absence, like any other conspicuous mystery, is itself worthy of study as a potential cognitohazard, obscuring the existence of anomalies that did, in fact, exist. Regardless, the assertion that anomalies as we understand them simply came into existence spontaneously is one that is short-sighted at best and dangerous at worst. What began as an area of Dr. Titov's academic interest may now be of the utmost importance. Addendum C: Invoice For Transit Completed Addendum D: Evidence Collected by Security Chief Ravon This addendum details selected descriptions of photographic evidence gathered during Security Chief Ravon’s inspection into La Cavalla Bianca. A full photographic archive with visual descriptions is available on request from Security Chief Ravon pending appropriate clearance. Article 1: A well-lit photograph of a stone tunnel entrance. The tunnel and stairs are constructed of cut stone, rather than being carved into the rock. Above the tunnel entrance is carved, in Latin, Corinthians 4:1 - ‘A man should account us in this way, as servants of Christ, and stewards of the mysteries of God’. Quality of the stonework is intricate and exquisite. Article 4: A photograph of the stairway’s exit, a cut stone doorway, lit by camera flash. Above the door is etched an image of a rose sporting an open eye on each petal, as well as two Latin phrases. First, ‘Wardens of the Divine Mysteries’ and second, Ecclesiastes 12:14 - ‘For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every secret, whether it is good or evil’. Article 12: A photograph of a large hall, with cut stone tunnels leading off at regular intervals. The photograph is lit by a camera flash. The hall is punctuated by the wrecks of fallen brass chandeliers, also extremely well-crafted. The aforementioned rose symbol is carved into the stone in faded colour at regular intervals. Article 15: A wide shot of a large pelt, visible in article 12. The pelt consists of primarily leopard-like skin and fur, but develops into scales towards the pelt’s head, and exhibits cervine features at the outer extremities. Article 30: Small hallway containing seven doorways, each with metal bars. Each room contains manacles, and decayed humanoid skeletons, notable for extremely high bone density and heights ranging between 97 and 125 centimetres. Article 32: An etched metal plaque, unintelligible due to dirt and wear. Article 33: The same plaque, now cleaned onsite by Security Chief Ravon. A Latin inscription reads ‘Subjects should not be allowed access to stoneworking materials, hammers, or tools of any kind. A routine inspection of cells for escape tunnels should be performed weekly’. Article 47: A large chamber, containing rusted monocles four inches thick, and over 70cm in diameter. A brass plaque is visible, but unintelligible. Article 65: A small chamber, containing a manacled figure. The figure is extremely emaciated, with pointed ears, stark white hair, and grey, desiccated skin, but according to Security Chief Ravon, still breathing, although unresponsive. Article 66: An etched metal plaque, cleaned onsite by Security Chief Ravon, outside of the cell door, above which is hung a horseshoe. The inscription reads ‘Due to an observed ability to ‘slip’ outside of this realm, subject should be kept incarcerated using wrought iron only to prevent potential escape attempts. Horseshoe is not to be removed’. Article 71: A stone chamber, containing a plot of irrigated dirt, with evidence of an irrigation system no longer in use. At the centre of the chamber is a rotted tree stump, from which extends the haft of an axe. Articles 103-110: Various yellowed, vellum pages of a small notebook. The text, written in Latin, appears to be in a stenographic shorthand. The text is photographically available on demand from Archive 112, and recreated in full here. 4th of August, 15274 This meeting shall now come to order. Opening prayers and greetings commence. A worried air is prevalent in the meeting-room. Various members are not in attendance. Ceremonies begin officially with a prayer and silent vigil for those members who lost their lives in the battle. DD: Gentlemen, I feel that I should first quell some concerns. It is true that the prior secrecy of our sanctum was breached in the fighting. However, in my capacity, I saw that it was handled. Those who breached the tunnel pose no threat to our furtive activities now. AA: Enemy combatants? Mercenaries? Even if they were seen off, those parasites loot everything that isn’t nailed down. Have you checked the archive? Searched their bodies for pilfered artifacts? DD: Not combatants. Their disappearances will be easily explained by the fighting. I have taken all necessary steps. The assembled members murmur agreement, and appreciation. CA: Regardless, if it has happened once, it shall happen again. If the League is able to install a new force in the Papal seat, there is no telling what he will know of us. The destruction levelled upon the city is too widespread to expect this facade to continue much longer without discovery. It is imperative that we formulate a plan. I propose Madrid, we have substantial interests there and- SM dissents: Nonsense. The logistics are utterly impractical. Staying our ground is the only option. I refuse to cede anything to these Lutherans. CA: To cede is one thing. Retreat is another. Flight has often been the holy path - Matthew speaks of the Virgin’s flight to Egypt to protect her son from the wrath of Herod. There is precedent. We must not allow pride to cloud our judgement. AA nods in agreement: We must not look back. This great city cowers and quakes at its invaders, there is no shred of holiness left. DD: But where? The scope of our operations are too large. Before, there was no safer place in all Christendom than Rome. We can hardly take them across the Alps without being noticed. CA: What about the new world? It’s away from scrutiny. We could build our own vaults, our own society. Use the grimoire to- SM: The risk is overwhelming. What lies on that continent could be even more dangerous than what we already have. Besides, the logistics of a long sea voyage are perilous even for experienced sailors. It would surely be fatal for our subjects. KI: Sailors are intolerable gossips. The room nods in agreement. There is a pregnant silence. KI speaks once again. KI: Muscovy? DD: The journey is too long, the winters too harsh. CA: There is nowhere we can flee to. AA: Then we must stay. There is much dissent and speech within the room. Murmured complaints are heard, and furtive defence from AA. GA: There can be no misconceptions here. To remain in Rome with the subjects in our possession is unconscionable. This city is not safe, and allowing our subjects to be used in war could be catastrophic. Subject 1’s expertise in artifice, 3’s raw destructive power… if they come to be possessed by the armies of the world, there is no telling what would happen. We swore to be God’s stewards, not his armourers. FT: There is nothing for it, then. We cannot move them, and we cannot keep them. We must hide them from the prying eyes of history; if not within the annals of these halls, then within the vaults of myth. Article 111: The final page of the notebook. It reads: ‘Let these mysteries fade from the view of the superstitious and unholy, and let them be the purview only of learned men’. Article 120: A wide shot, lit by camera flash, of a large library. No books remain on the shelves, which are covered in dust and cobwebs, and made of rotted wood. At the centre stands a lectern, adorned with the rose-symbol. A large book, later designated as SCP-8041-1, surrounded by unlit, dribbling candles and bound with a tough, brown material, sits open on the lectern. Its pages appear blank. [END LOG] Addendum E: POST-OPERATIVE INTERVIEW WITH SECURITY CHIEF RAVON CONDUCTED BY DR. KARUNARATHNE DATE: 04/07/2004 NOTE: Security Chief Ravon passed all preliminary psychological evaluations with flying colours. [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Karunarathne: Hello, Patricio. Thank you for your initiative in taking on that assignment. I just wanted to go through some of the things that you uncovered in here, for the official record. <Dr. Karunarathne indicates a slim folder, containing the photographic evidence gathered by Security Chief Ravon. Ravon registers this, and nods in agreement.> Ravon: Of course. I'm happy to answer. <Dr. Karunarathne displays Article 1> Dr. Karunarathne: Alright. This symbol here. I'm aware you're not familiar with Latin, but what does this rose thing look like to you? What emotions did it instill? Ravon: I don't know. I definitely felt a bit uneasy, but that was just a product of the environment. You know, dark tunnel, solo mission. Bit creeped out. Just made me feel like I was being watched. <Dr Karunarathne nods, and reaches into the folder. Preliminary conversation regarding standard images and the details of the investigation continues. Dr. Karunarathne presents Article 15.> Dr. Karunarathne: So, this pelt rug. Any reactions to that? Ravon: No. It's dusty, and old, but it fits in with the decor of the place. You know. Antiquated. Dr. Karunarathne: Nothing strange at all? It displays features of multiple types of animal, and there's no evidence of it being altered at all. You were clearly intrigued by it, look, you took a few close-ups of the extremities. <Dr. Karunarathne produces Articles 16 through 22, which feature closeups of the pelt rug depicted in Article 15.> Ravon: I'm not sure. I guess I was just impressed by it in the moment, but it doesn't seem too weird now. Probably just some really good needlework. Dr. Karunarathne: Hmm. Okay. <More discussion about Ravon's descent resumes. Dr. Karunarathne produces Article 30, and places it on the table.> Dr. Karunarathne: So, what about these figures? Remind you of anything? Ravon: Not really. I felt sad, the poor bastards. Kept locked up down here. This secret society seems to have been kidnapping people, abusing them or something. Made me mad, seeing how short they were, probably malnourished kids. Dr. Karunarathne: So nothing about this struck you as anomalous or fantastical? Short, stout skeletons of people kept underground and prohibited access to stoneworking equipment? Ravon: No. I guess the stoneworking was to stop them escaping. Probably just kids with some bone condition. <Dr. Karunarathne is visibly frustrated at this point. He begins to flick ahead through the folder of photographic evidence. He produces Articles 65 and 66.> Dr. Karunarathne: What about this? This figure? Ravon: Oh yeah, there was a prisoner, still alive in there. Pretty surprising. I was bricking it, I thought I was the only one still alive in there, so as soon as I heard the breathing, I backed up turned my safety off, tried to proceed with caution. I guess if there were people in there they must have heard me and run, cause he was the only living one in there. Looked pretty worse for wear, too. That made me mad. Probably hadn't seen sunlight in a while. Dr. Karunarathne: Surprised? The place hasn't been explored in what looks like five hundred years! Ravon: Well, I don't know. That kind of stuff happens. Maybe he got put in there after all the others left. Dr. Karunarathne: And the horseshoe? The 'slipping' referenced on the plaque? None of this is strange to you? Ravon: Well, these guys were nutcases that ran this vault thing. That much is clear. I didn't put much stock in the horseshoe. Maybe it was a converted stable. Dr Karunarathne: Are you serious? You took a close-up picture of the horseshoe immediately after! <Dr. Karunarathne produces Article 67, a close-up image of the horseshoe.> Dr. Karunarathne: Use your head, man. This is clearly some sort of faerie! <Ravon visibly cracks a smile, and snorts with laughter.> Dr. Karunarathne: What's so funny? Ravon: Well, you know. Faeries. That stuff's impossible. It doesn't exist. This is a place of science, don't go on about that stuff. I thought you were supposed to be a doctor. Dr. Karunarathne: Are you aware of where you are? What we do in this Foundation? Ravon: Yeah, sure. But faeries aren't real. Dr. Karunarathne: Oh, for Christ's sake. Let me get Ellis in here. [END LOG] Footnotes 1. A term coined by Dr. Titov to indicate a field of study regarding the origin of anomalies. Prevalent theories have included ‘The Big Break', in which an extradimensional creation event caused permanent peripheral damage to Hume levels in our reality, and ‘Anomalogothicism’, where anomalous entities are seen as culturally created by atavistic psychological responses to the effects of the enlightenment. See ‘Approaches to Anomalogenesis’ (Titov, Swift et al) for further details. 2. Footnote from Dr. Hiskey: ‘A lazarus taxon in this case refers in biology and palaeontology to a species that temporarily disappears from the fossil record before reappearing, generally thought to be a product of extinction-level events greatly reducing the numbers of some species. See casefile A98-11 for details’. 3. Quote taken from Dr. Hiskey's personal communications while under surveillance due to Foundation financial review. Collected files available on request from file 271-AT. 4. It appears that, given this date, the fighting and turmoil referred to in this excerpt was the Sack of Rome by mercenary armies fighting for the League of Cognac in May 1527. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8041" by Termiteee, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8041. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. |
SCP-8041 | ticonderoga | Item#: 8041 Level4 Secondary Class: ticonderoga Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo Special Containment Procedures: As of time of writing, there are no recommended containment procedures for SCP-8041. SCP-8041-1 is currently remanded at Site-19. All research staff assigned to its containment are to be given refresher sessions on the nature of SCP-8041 and SCP-8041-1 with standard onboarding materials every five days to ensure efficacy of containment. All photographic and written evidence referring to or depicting SCP-8041-1, including this article and all attached addendums, is subject to ongoing cognitohazardous properties that act as a cognitohazardous 'half-life' resulting from a use of SCP-8041-1 some time in the past. As a result of these properties, all evidence relating to SCP-8041-1 automatically self-effaces over a period of around six minutes. All documentation relating to SCP-8041-1 should be reloaded regularly when viewing digitally to mitigate the impact of this effect. Automated photocopying systems have been set up onsite to ensure the preservation of evidence pertaining to SCP-8041-1. Description: SCP-8041 is the apparent lack of archaeological and palaeontological evidence of anomalies prior to the mid-16th century. An exact date of SCP-8041's origin is not currently confirmed, although Foundation researchers within the Anomalogenesis Department currently suggest 1527 as the year in which anomalies as the Foundation understands them came into existence. While SCP-8041's existence has been apparent for a large part of the Foundation's history, its existence as an anomaly in itself was first hypothesised by Foundation researcher Dr. Victor Titov in his lecture, 'How Have We Become Masters Of The Unreal?', delivered to junior Foundation researchers on June 4th, 1998, an excerpt from which is attached here in Addendum A. This lecture caused a stir in the Foundation's research community; however Dr. Titov was killed by a bus crash while holidaying at Lake Huron in 2002, and so the field of anomalogenesis remained largely unexplored.1 Dr. Titov's line of work was later codified in the creation of the Anomalogenesis Department, after junior Foundation researcher Dr. Lauren Hiskey suggested its practical importance in maintaining the veil in her own paper, 'Predictive Methods and Lazarus Taxa in Foundation Operations', excerpts from which are attached in Addendum B.2 As a result of the paper's success, Dr. Hiskey was awarded a research grant and made chair of the Anomalogenesis Department, which at that time consisted of only her. During a period of extended leave due to an ongoing internal financial review, Dr. Hiskey discovered an 'extremely promising' invoice for a transaction dated 5th of November, 1499, addressed to wealthy Venetian merchant Alexander Dodario and forwarded it to fellow researcher and department member Dr. Bradley Meung-Soo.3 The invoice, translated from its original Venetian, is available in Addendum C. After failing to have the invoice investigated through official channels, Dr. Hiskey privately collaborated with Security Chief Patricio Ravon using the remainder of her research grant to conduct a physical investigation of La Cavalla Bianca, a boarding-house mentioned in Dodario's personal correspondence as lodging for Dodario's frequent trips to Rome, referred to by Dodario as 'pilgrimage'. During this investigation, a large, empty book with cognitohazardous properties designated as SCP-8041-1 was discovered and later remanded into Foundation custody. Description of gathered photographic evidence is available below in Addendum D, including copies of the initial photographs of SCP-8041-1. Both official writeups by Dr. Hiskey and Security Chief Ravon were lost as a result of the cognitohazardous properties of SCP-8041-1. Addendums: Addendum A: Excerpt from 'How Have We Become Masters of the Unreal?' How Have We Become Masters of the Unreal? DATE: 04/06/1998 NOTE: Full lecture transcript available on request. DR TITOV: ‘The crux, then, is this. It takes the collected resources of our Foundation - a titanic, and well-oiled bureaucratic machine with resources spanning nations, to effectively contain many Keter-class objects. And even without the widespread havoc that the Keter-class might have wreaked upon the sparse townships and divided, tribal states of early mankind, even Safe and Euclid classes would, logically, have a historic tradition that was widespread and well-documented. This seemingly impossible gap in the palaeontological and archeological records must have an explanation. The theories surrounding this gap are limitless. Perhaps an unknown event somehow damaged the background hume levels of our reality to such a severe degree that the objects and beings that we study were able to come into existence, or that the seemingly impossible nature of anomalous objects has a degenerating, memetic effect on the human psyche, that causes, over time, anything that does not conform to preconceived notions of reality to be sectioned into the realm of myth and legend, if it is not placed under continued study. Perhaps even an inversion constitutes an inversion of the first - an event that retroactively removes evidence of any anomalous objects from the record of reality - retaining their cultural footprint, but obliterating the physical record to such an extreme degree that they are consigned, once again, to the realm of myth. Regardless of result, the question of the beginnings of our field of study - a question that I am dubbing, for my own purposes, anomalogenesis, is a fascinating area to which I only hope the Foundation will pay due attention.’ Addendum B: Excerpt from Dr. Hiskey's 'Predictive Methods and Lazarus Taxa in Foundation Operations' Predictive Methods and Lazarus Taxa in Foundation Operations DATE: 03/03/2002 The applications of the lazarus taxon framework to Foundation field operations reveals boundless possibilities. The apparent gap in the biological record of any lifeforms that the Foundation would consider worthy of study may not be, as previously theorised, a result of late-stage anomalogenesis in our reality, but instead a product of paranormal factors that resulted in a temporary lapse. The upshot here is that many anomalies currently on record may not be occurrences, but reoccurrences. It is possible that many of these anomalies have existed before - perhaps during a period of oral tradition, prior to a written one. In fact, there is potential that this absence, like any other conspicuous mystery, is itself worthy of study as a potential cognitohazard, obscuring the existence of anomalies that did, in fact, exist. Regardless, the assertion that anomalies as we understand them simply came into existence spontaneously is one that is short-sighted at best and dangerous at worst. What began as an area of Dr. Titov's academic interest may now be of the utmost importance. Addendum C: Invoice For Transit Completed Addendum D: Evidence Collected by Security Chief Ravon This addendum details selected descriptions of photographic evidence gathered during Security Chief Ravon’s inspection into La Cavalla Bianca. A full photographic archive with visual descriptions is available on request from Security Chief Ravon pending appropriate clearance. Article 1: A well-lit photograph of a stone tunnel entrance. The tunnel and stairs are constructed of cut stone, rather than being carved into the rock. Above the tunnel entrance is carved, in Latin, Corinthians 4:1 - ‘A man should account us in this way, as servants of Christ, and stewards of the mysteries of God’. Quality of the stonework is intricate and exquisite. Article 4: A photograph of the stairway’s exit, a cut stone doorway, lit by camera flash. Above the door is etched an image of a rose sporting an open eye on each petal, as well as two Latin phrases. First, ‘Wardens of the Divine Mysteries’ and second, Ecclesiastes 12:14 - ‘For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every secret, whether it is good or evil’. Article 12: A photograph of a large hall, with cut stone tunnels leading off at regular intervals. The photograph is lit by a camera flash. The hall is punctuated by the wrecks of fallen brass chandeliers, also extremely well-crafted. The aforementioned rose symbol is carved into the stone in faded colour at regular intervals. Article 15: A wide shot of a large pelt, visible in article 12. The pelt consists of primarily leopard-like skin and fur, but develops into scales towards the pelt’s head, and exhibits cervine features at the outer extremities. Article 30: Small hallway containing seven doorways, each with metal bars. Each room contains manacles, and decayed humanoid skeletons, notable for extremely high bone density and heights ranging between 97 and 125 centimetres. Article 32: An etched metal plaque, unintelligible due to dirt and wear. Article 33: The same plaque, now cleaned onsite by Security Chief Ravon. A Latin inscription reads ‘Subjects should not be allowed access to stoneworking materials, hammers, or tools of any kind. A routine inspection of cells for escape tunnels should be performed weekly’. Article 47: A large chamber, containing rusted monocles four inches thick, and over 70cm in diameter. A brass plaque is visible, but unintelligible. Article 65: A small chamber, containing a manacled figure. The figure is extremely emaciated, with pointed ears, stark white hair, and grey, desiccated skin, but according to Security Chief Ravon, still breathing, although unresponsive. Article 66: An etched metal plaque, cleaned onsite by Security Chief Ravon, outside of the cell door, above which is hung a horseshoe. The inscription reads ‘Due to an observed ability to ‘slip’ outside of this realm, subject should be kept incarcerated using wrought iron only to prevent potential escape attempts. Horseshoe is not to be removed’. Article 71: A stone chamber, containing a plot of irrigated dirt, with evidence of an irrigation system no longer in use. At the centre of the chamber is a rotted tree stump, from which extends the haft of an axe. Articles 103-110: Various yellowed, vellum pages of a small notebook. The text, written in Latin, appears to be in a stenographic shorthand. The text is photographically available on demand from Archive 112, and recreated in full here. 4th of August, 15274 This meeting shall now come to order. Opening prayers and greetings commence. A worried air is prevalent in the meeting-room. Various members are not in attendance. Ceremonies begin officially with a prayer and silent vigil for those members who lost their lives in the battle. DD: Gentlemen, I feel that I should first quell some concerns. It is true that the prior secrecy of our sanctum was breached in the fighting. However, in my capacity, I saw that it was handled. Those who breached the tunnel pose no threat to our furtive activities now. AA: Enemy combatants? Mercenaries? Even if they were seen off, those parasites loot everything that isn’t nailed down. Have you checked the archive? Searched their bodies for pilfered artifacts? DD: Not combatants. Their disappearances will be easily explained by the fighting. I have taken all necessary steps. The assembled members murmur agreement, and appreciation. CA: Regardless, if it has happened once, it shall happen again. If the League is able to install a new force in the Papal seat, there is no telling what he will know of us. The destruction levelled upon the city is too widespread to expect this facade to continue much longer without discovery. It is imperative that we formulate a plan. I propose Madrid, we have substantial interests there and- SM dissents: Nonsense. The logistics are utterly impractical. Staying our ground is the only option. I refuse to cede anything to these Lutherans. CA: To cede is one thing. Retreat is another. Flight has often been the holy path - Matthew speaks of the Virgin’s flight to Egypt to protect her son from the wrath of Herod. There is precedent. We must not allow pride to cloud our judgement. AA nods in agreement: We must not look back. This great city cowers and quakes at its invaders, there is no shred of holiness left. DD: But where? The scope of our operations are too large. Before, there was no safer place in all Christendom than Rome. We can hardly take them across the Alps without being noticed. CA: What about the new world? It’s away from scrutiny. We could build our own vaults, our own society. Use the grimoire to- SM: The risk is overwhelming. What lies on that continent could be even more dangerous than what we already have. Besides, the logistics of a long sea voyage are perilous even for experienced sailors. It would surely be fatal for our subjects. KI: Sailors are intolerable gossips. The room nods in agreement. There is a pregnant silence. KI speaks once again. KI: Muscovy? DD: The journey is too long, the winters too harsh. CA: There is nowhere we can flee to. AA: Then we must stay. There is much dissent and speech within the room. Murmured complaints are heard, and furtive defence from AA. GA: There can be no misconceptions here. To remain in Rome with the subjects in our possession is unconscionable. This city is not safe, and allowing our subjects to be used in war could be catastrophic. Subject 1’s expertise in artifice, 3’s raw destructive power… if they come to be possessed by the armies of the world, there is no telling what would happen. We swore to be God’s stewards, not his armourers. FT: There is nothing for it, then. We cannot move them, and we cannot keep them. We must hide them from the prying eyes of history; if not within the annals of these halls, then within the vaults of myth. Article 111: The final page of the notebook. It reads: ‘Let these mysteries fade from the view of the superstitious and unholy, and let them be the purview only of learned men’. Article 120: A wide shot, lit by camera flash, of a large library. No books remain on the shelves, which are covered in dust and cobwebs, and made of rotted wood. At the centre stands a lectern, adorned with the rose-symbol. A large book, later designated as SCP-8041-1, surrounded by unlit, dribbling candles and bound with a tough, brown material, sits open on the lectern. Its pages appear blank. [END LOG] Addendum E: POST-OPERATIVE INTERVIEW WITH SECURITY CHIEF RAVON CONDUCTED BY DR. KARUNARATHNE DATE: 04/07/2004 NOTE: Security Chief Ravon passed all preliminary psychological evaluations with flying colours. [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Karunarathne: Hello, Patricio. Thank you for your initiative in taking on that assignment. I just wanted to go through some of the things that you uncovered in here, for the official record. <Dr. Karunarathne indicates a slim folder, containing the photographic evidence gathered by Security Chief Ravon. Ravon registers this, and nods in agreement.> Ravon: Of course. I'm happy to answer. <Dr. Karunarathne displays Article 1> Dr. Karunarathne: Alright. This symbol here. I'm aware you're not familiar with Latin, but what does this rose thing look like to you? What emotions did it instill? Ravon: I don't know. I definitely felt a bit uneasy, but that was just a product of the environment. You know, dark tunnel, solo mission. Bit creeped out. Just made me feel like I was being watched. <Dr Karunarathne nods, and reaches into the folder. Preliminary conversation regarding standard images and the details of the investigation continues. Dr. Karunarathne presents Article 15.> Dr. Karunarathne: So, this pelt rug. Any reactions to that? Ravon: No. It's dusty, and old, but it fits in with the decor of the place. You know. Antiquated. Dr. Karunarathne: Nothing strange at all? It displays features of multiple types of animal, and there's no evidence of it being altered at all. You were clearly intrigued by it, look, you took a few close-ups of the extremities. <Dr. Karunarathne produces Articles 16 through 22, which feature closeups of the pelt rug depicted in Article 15.> Ravon: I'm not sure. I guess I was just impressed by it in the moment, but it doesn't seem too weird now. Probably just some really good needlework. Dr. Karunarathne: Hmm. Okay. <More discussion about Ravon's descent resumes. Dr. Karunarathne produces Article 30, and places it on the table.> Dr. Karunarathne: So, what about these figures? Remind you of anything? Ravon: Not really. I felt sad, the poor bastards. Kept locked up down here. This secret society seems to have been kidnapping people, abusing them or something. Made me mad, seeing how short they were, probably malnourished kids. Dr. Karunarathne: So nothing about this struck you as anomalous or fantastical? Short, stout skeletons of people kept underground and prohibited access to stoneworking equipment? Ravon: No. I guess the stoneworking was to stop them escaping. Probably just kids with some bone condition. <Dr. Karunarathne is visibly frustrated at this point. He begins to flick ahead through the folder of photographic evidence. He produces Articles 65 and 66.> Dr. Karunarathne: What about this? This figure? Ravon: Oh yeah, there was a prisoner, still alive in there. Pretty surprising. I was bricking it, I thought I was the only one still alive in there, so as soon as I heard the breathing, I backed up turned my safety off, tried to proceed with caution. I guess if there were people in there they must have heard me and run, cause he was the only living one in there. Looked pretty worse for wear, too. That made me mad. Probably hadn't seen sunlight in a while. Dr. Karunarathne: Surprised? The place hasn't been explored in what looks like five hundred years! Ravon: Well, I don't know. That kind of stuff happens. Maybe he got put in there after all the others left. Dr. Karunarathne: And the horseshoe? The 'slipping' referenced on the plaque? None of this is strange to you? Ravon: Well, these guys were nutcases that ran this vault thing. That much is clear. I didn't put much stock in the horseshoe. Maybe it was a converted stable. Dr Karunarathne: Are you serious? You took a close-up picture of the horseshoe immediately after! <Dr. Karunarathne produces Article 67, a close-up image of the horseshoe.> Dr. Karunarathne: Use your head, man. This is clearly some sort of faerie! <Ravon visibly cracks a smile, and snorts with laughter.> Dr. Karunarathne: What's so funny? Ravon: Well, you know. Faeries. That stuff's impossible. It doesn't exist. This is a place of science, don't go on about that stuff. I thought you were supposed to be a doctor. Dr. Karunarathne: Are you aware of where you are? What we do in this Foundation? Ravon: Yeah, sure. But faeries aren't real. Dr. Karunarathne: Oh, for Christ's sake. Let me get Ellis in here. [END LOG] Footnotes 1. A term coined by Dr. Titov to indicate a field of study regarding the origin of anomalies. Prevalent theories have included ‘The Big Break', in which an extradimensional creation event caused permanent peripheral damage to Hume levels in our reality, and ‘Anomalogothicism’, where anomalous entities are seen as culturally created by atavistic psychological responses to the effects of the enlightenment. See ‘Approaches to Anomalogenesis’ (Titov, Swift et al) for further details. 2. Footnote from Dr. Hiskey: ‘A lazarus taxon in this case refers in biology and palaeontology to a species that temporarily disappears from the fossil record before reappearing, generally thought to be a product of extinction-level events greatly reducing the numbers of some species. See casefile A98-11 for details’. 3. Quote taken from Dr. Hiskey's personal communications while under surveillance due to Foundation financial review. Collected files available on request from file 271-AT. 4. It appears that, given this date, the fighting and turmoil referred to in this excerpt was the Sack of Rome by mercenary armies fighting for the League of Cognac in May 1527. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8041" by Termiteee, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8041. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. |
SCP-8043 | keter | Item #: SCP-8043 Special Containment Procedures: Public records are to be monitored for mentions of potential SCP-8043 occurrences. If a case is confirmed, it is to be dealt with as follows: If the victim's time experiencing SCP-8043 is short enough that it can be reliably erased, the necessary amnestics are to be administered. Otherwise, a cover is to be concocted and they are to be permanently transferred to a specialized care facility. Description: SCP-8043 is a phenomenon in which a short, simple task is perceived by the victim as taking place over an exorbitant amount of time. The amount of time experienced by affected individuals varies, but tasks that would normally take seconds are generally perceived as lasting months or years. Victims perceive the task as suddenly requiring a great number of additional intricate and superfluous steps to carry out. Once affected by SCP-8043, victims are unable to cease performing the task until it is complete — the time dilation phenomena ends at this point. No pattern has been determined among victims of SCP-8043, with cases having been recorded in various demographics globally. However, SCP-8043 appears to manifest in actions that the victim would normally be able to perform by reflex. This includes tasks such as: Unlocking doors/cars Opening doors Turning on lights Typing on keyboards Various bodily gestures Note that SCP-8043 is purely a perception phenomenon — no actual time manipulation takes place. To an outside observer, the victim of SCP-8043 will appear to complete the task without incident, the psychological effects becoming clear immediately afterwards. Addendum 8043-1 (Interview Log) On 12/07/2013, Foundation Agent Michael Lear fell victim to SCP-8043 while reloading his service pistol. The action, which took three seconds to complete, was perceived by Agent Lear as taking place over the course of several months. Following his initial breakdown, Lear adopted a view on his experience unlike those of other victims, considering himself as having become 'enlightened' while under the effects of SCP-8043 and refusing amnestics as a result. The following interview was conducted in Post-Service Station 92 ("Tower Oaks"), where Agent Lear now permanently resides. Interviewer: Dr. Julian Lawrence Interviewee: Michael Lear <Begin Log> (Interview is performed in Lear's sitting room. Lear sits on the couch while Lawrence sits in an armchair. Lawrence leans over and activates the recorder on the coffee table.) Dr. Lawrence: It's been a while since we've had a chance to talk. Sorry. You know how it is. Lear: I guess. (Pause.) Dr. Lawrence: Is something wrong? Lear: I, uh, I got a chance recently to look at the file. Dr. Lawrence: The file? Lear: You know, um… (laughs) The 8043 file? Apparently I'm entitled to access it. It's just, uh… I don't — I don't know if I like the way you describe it. The thing, um, the way it went for me. I don't… no, I guess I don't. Dr. Lawrence: I'm sorry to hear that. What specifically do you have a problem with? Lear: It's the way, afterwards, the way you describe me, I guess. Not you specifically, but the guy who wrote it. I — the way it says 'considers he became enlightened' and you've got those little quotes around enlightened, like — like quoting it. You know what I mean? Dr. Lawrence: That's what you said, isn't it? Lear: Yes, but… it's the way it's written down. I guess. You make me sound like a cult leader or something. Dr. Lawrence: Right. I get what you mean. Lear: It's like… I'm not going to say for a second that I enjoyed what happened, that it was pleasant. It was a fucking nightmare. I was turning dials on that thing for days to get the barrel aligned, and — and I thought that was it. I thought it'd just take a couple of days! But it just went on and on. There was always something else that needed doing… on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and… Dr. Lawrence: Michael. Lear: …until there wasn't, and then it was done. (Pause.) Lear: But it was still a nightmare. Dr. Lawrence: Okay. Lear: At the same time, though, it's a… a unique experience, I guess. You take from it what you can get, otherwise it's beaten you. You have to make it work for you. I mean… I had a lot of time to think while I was reloading my pistol. A lot of fucking time. (Pause.) Lear: At first it's just panic. You wonder how long you're going to have to be doing this for. It's not — I want to make it clear that it's not just a matter of not being able to… to bring yourself to stop. There's a kind of agency in that. The option just doesn't exist for you. At all. Period. You can't even imagine yourself imagining not doing it. Dr. Lawrence: Right. You've mentioned this before. Lear: I'll mention it as many times as I like. (Pause.) Lear: Sorry. Dr. Lawrence: No worries. Lear: I just mean that… you can only panic so long, you know? Eventually it burns itself out. Then, eventually, with all that monotony… you start collapsing inwards, into — into a single point. Like a black hole, I guess. Right into the core of you. The… the essence. You see yourself, properly, maybe for the first time. But eventually you reach the end of that too. Dr. Lawrence: And then? Lear: And then you spread outwards again, and you see everything else properly. You… you appreciate it. You understand it. There's this moment of — there's this moment of, I don't know, transcendence — what the hell, yeah, enlightenment. (Pause.) Lear: And then the cycle repeats… until you're done. But you keep it with you, I kept it with me. The way you felt. There's still a shadow of it. Like I said, you take what you can get. Dr. Lawrence: And you still stand by that? Even all these years later? Lear: I do. Ever since I was old enough to really understand it, I've been terrified of time. Of it — of it passing me by, running out. I grew up in the blink of an eye. Teens to twenties. Twenties to thirties. Like I was losing my grip on a treadmill. Like I was being pulled into something at the end. A wood chipper. But… back then, it felt like there was finally enough time… like I could stop to take a breath. As many breaths as I needed. That's all. I guess. (Pause.) Lear: Is that okay? Dr. Lawrence: Yeah, yes, of course. I was just thinking about it. If it were me… no, sorry, that's not my place. Lear: No, no, that's fine, go ahead. Dr. Lawrence: I think I'd have just wanted to forget about it, if the option was given to me. Lear: (laughs) I can explain this over and over, any way you want, but — but you can't understand it unless you went through it. It's like, those were the most important three seconds of my life, but if you'd have been there, it'd have been over like that — (Lear snaps his fingers, then suddenly stops. He looks past Dr. Lawrence and stares at the wall behind him. He continues to tap his fingers against each other for several seconds.) Dr. Lawrence: Michael? (Pause.) Lear: (slurred) W-Who? (Lear falls onto the couch and curls up into the foetal position. He whimpers. He continues tapping his fingers against each other.) (Dr. Lawrence runs to his side.) Dr. Lawrence: Michael?! Lear: I'm sorry… I-I don't know… (Pause.) Lear: I don't remember what we were talking about. <End Log> ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8043" by Tanhony, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8043. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. |
SCP-8045 | neutralized | A short, humorous article about fairies taking your stuff at night. close Info X SCP-8045: Fairly Frivolous Fairies. Author: JorgeMtzb Special Thanks to: Zoobeeny, Mooagain , Voct, Ethagon, Alexiotron, Doctor Fullham, FluffyKobold, and the rest of the Site-19 IRC chat. JorgeMtzb I'm the Upvote fairy, I'll gladly take your upvotes and leave some laughter behind in exchange (Hopefully, I'm still in fairy training.) Item#: 8045 Level1 Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz SCP-8045 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8045 is to be contained in a standard low-risk anomalous containment locker at Site-19. Access to SCP-8045 requires Level 2 clearance. Testing involving SCP-8045 must be conducted in a controlled environment with surveillance cameras monitoring the testing area. No anomalous items (including other SCP objects) or sentient creatures are to be left underneath SCP-8045 overnight. Description: SCP-8045 is a standard-sized 51 cm. x 56 cm. goose down feather pillow, with no discernible manufacturer's label or markings. The pillow is composed of ordinary materials consistent with those found in non-anomalous pillows. SCP-8045 exhibits its anomalous properties at night1 when placed on a bed2 with an item left underneath the pillow, between itself and the bed. These properties manifest only when all human individuals in direct sightline of the bed are either sleeping in the bed or are otherwise unconscious. If a fully conscious individual is present throughout the entirety of the night, SCP-8045 will not exhibit its anomalous effects. When these conditions are met, a fairy3 (labeled SCP-8045-1) corresponding to the specific item type left underneath SCP-8045 will manifest in the room. SCP-8045 consistently summons the exact same SCP-8045-1 instance for any given item. All SCP-8045-1 instances wear miniature nametags identifying them as the fairy of that particular type of item. The fairy will approach SCP-8045, retrieve the item left underneath it, and subsequently attempt to depart the room by flying away, disappearing shortly thereafter. In exchange for the item, the fairy will leave behind a form of payment; usually (though not exclusively), it will leave behind some kind of currency, most commonly in the form of a single quarter (25¢ USD) coin. If an SCP-8045-1 instance is interrupted in some manner before it is able to retrieve the item left underneath SCP-8045, it will prematurely disappear. It will attempt to complete its task later in the night when the conditions for its appearance are met once again. Surveillance footage indicates that SCP-8045's effects are not impeded by the presence of cameras. Testing Log - SCP-8045 Note: Each test consists of the same procedure, leaving an object underneath SCP-8045, laid over a designated bed. Test A Object 1 human tooth. Results The "Tooth Fairy" manifests, taking the object and leaving behind a quarter coin. Test B Object 1 dog tooth. Results Same as above. Test C Object 1 synthetic human tooth. Results The Tooth Fairy manifests, taking the object and leaving behind a counterfeit quarter coin. Test D Object 1 printed photograph of a human tooth. Results A distinct "Paper Fairy" manifests, taking the object and leaving behind a quarter coin. Test E Object 1 quarter coin. Results The "Money Fairy" manifests, taking the object and leaving behind a human tooth. Test F Object 1 twenty dollar bill. Results The Money Fairy manifests, taking the object and leaving behind an entire set of human teeth. Test G Object 1 counterfeit quarter coin. Results The Money Fairy manifests, taking the object and leaving behind a synthetic human tooth. Test H Object None. (No item left beneath SCP-8045) Results The Bed Sheet Fairy manifests, taking the Bed Sheets and leaving behind a quarter coin. Test I Object None. (No item left beneath SCP-8045, bed sheets were removed.) Results The Mattress Fairy manifests, taking the bed and leaving behind a quarter coin. SCP-8045 is left lying on the ground. Test J Object 1 GPS Tracker. Results The GPS Tracker Fairy manifests, taking the object and leaving behind a quarter coin. Signal was lost the instant the GPS Tracker Fairy de-manifested. Test K Object 1 pair of white socks. Results The Sock Fairy manifests, taking one of the socks and leaving behind a different, mismatching sock. Test L Object 1 human tooth and 1 quarter. Results The Tooth Fairy and Money Fairy both manifest, retrieving their respective objects and leaving behind a quarter coin and a human tooth. Subsequently, they engage in a continuous exchange, taking the item left by the other fairy and replacing it with their own, creating an infinite loop. This exchange persists for approximately two hours underneath SCP-8045, at which point the Fairy Fairy manifests, taking both fairies away and leaving behind two quarter coins. Test M Object 1 human tooth. Results No result. Test N Object 1 quarter. Results No result. Test O Object 1 pillow. Results The Pillow Fairy manifests, taking both the object and SCP-8045 itself, leaving behind two quarter coins before flying away and de-manifesting alongside SCP-8045, which has not been recovered since. More From This Author More From This Author JorgeMtzb's Works SCPs SCP-7121 (+109) • SCP-5031-J (+22) • SCP-7229 (+62) • SCP-7194 (+36) • SCP-500-J (+150) • SCP-7911 (+32) • SCP-7192 (+11) • SCP-7424 (+9) • SCP-719M4-J (+216) • SCP-8022 (+78) • Tales/GoI Formats Other JorgeMtzb's Author Page (+22) • ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8045" by JorgeMtzb, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8045. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Name: Average White Pillow Author: Itrytohelp32 License: CC BY-SA 4.0 DEED Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Footnotes 1. For the purposes of SCP-8045, night starts at the point in which the sun is fully below the horizon at its location. 2. Any piece of furniture made for the specific purpose of sleeping. 3. The appearance of these fairies varies widely in size, shape, and appearance, but they all exhibit characteristics resembling the most popular modern form of mythical fairies from folklore in media: small humanoid creatures with butterfly-like wings. |
SCP-8045 | safe | A short, humorous article about fairies taking your stuff at night. close Info X SCP-8045: Fairly Frivolous Fairies. Author: JorgeMtzb Special Thanks to: Zoobeeny, Mooagain , Voct, Ethagon, Alexiotron, Doctor Fullham, FluffyKobold, and the rest of the Site-19 IRC chat. JorgeMtzb I'm the Upvote fairy, I'll gladly take your upvotes and leave some laughter behind in exchange (Hopefully, I'm still in fairy training.) Item#: 8045 Level1 Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz SCP-8045 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8045 is to be contained in a standard low-risk anomalous containment locker at Site-19. Access to SCP-8045 requires Level 2 clearance. Testing involving SCP-8045 must be conducted in a controlled environment with surveillance cameras monitoring the testing area. No anomalous items (including other SCP objects) or sentient creatures are to be left underneath SCP-8045 overnight. Description: SCP-8045 is a standard-sized 51 cm. x 56 cm. goose down feather pillow, with no discernible manufacturer's label or markings. The pillow is composed of ordinary materials consistent with those found in non-anomalous pillows. SCP-8045 exhibits its anomalous properties at night1 when placed on a bed2 with an item left underneath the pillow, between itself and the bed. These properties manifest only when all human individuals in direct sightline of the bed are either sleeping in the bed or are otherwise unconscious. If a fully conscious individual is present throughout the entirety of the night, SCP-8045 will not exhibit its anomalous effects. When these conditions are met, a fairy3 (labeled SCP-8045-1) corresponding to the specific item type left underneath SCP-8045 will manifest in the room. SCP-8045 consistently summons the exact same SCP-8045-1 instance for any given item. All SCP-8045-1 instances wear miniature nametags identifying them as the fairy of that particular type of item. The fairy will approach SCP-8045, retrieve the item left underneath it, and subsequently attempt to depart the room by flying away, disappearing shortly thereafter. In exchange for the item, the fairy will leave behind a form of payment; usually (though not exclusively), it will leave behind some kind of currency, most commonly in the form of a single quarter (25¢ USD) coin. If an SCP-8045-1 instance is interrupted in some manner before it is able to retrieve the item left underneath SCP-8045, it will prematurely disappear. It will attempt to complete its task later in the night when the conditions for its appearance are met once again. Surveillance footage indicates that SCP-8045's effects are not impeded by the presence of cameras. Testing Log - SCP-8045 Note: Each test consists of the same procedure, leaving an object underneath SCP-8045, laid over a designated bed. Test A Object 1 human tooth. Results The "Tooth Fairy" manifests, taking the object and leaving behind a quarter coin. Test B Object 1 dog tooth. Results Same as above. Test C Object 1 synthetic human tooth. Results The Tooth Fairy manifests, taking the object and leaving behind a counterfeit quarter coin. Test D Object 1 printed photograph of a human tooth. Results A distinct "Paper Fairy" manifests, taking the object and leaving behind a quarter coin. Test E Object 1 quarter coin. Results The "Money Fairy" manifests, taking the object and leaving behind a human tooth. Test F Object 1 twenty dollar bill. Results The Money Fairy manifests, taking the object and leaving behind an entire set of human teeth. Test G Object 1 counterfeit quarter coin. Results The Money Fairy manifests, taking the object and leaving behind a synthetic human tooth. Test H Object None. (No item left beneath SCP-8045) Results The Bed Sheet Fairy manifests, taking the Bed Sheets and leaving behind a quarter coin. Test I Object None. (No item left beneath SCP-8045, bed sheets were removed.) Results The Mattress Fairy manifests, taking the bed and leaving behind a quarter coin. SCP-8045 is left lying on the ground. Test J Object 1 GPS Tracker. Results The GPS Tracker Fairy manifests, taking the object and leaving behind a quarter coin. Signal was lost the instant the GPS Tracker Fairy de-manifested. Test K Object 1 pair of white socks. Results The Sock Fairy manifests, taking one of the socks and leaving behind a different, mismatching sock. Test L Object 1 human tooth and 1 quarter. Results The Tooth Fairy and Money Fairy both manifest, retrieving their respective objects and leaving behind a quarter coin and a human tooth. Subsequently, they engage in a continuous exchange, taking the item left by the other fairy and replacing it with their own, creating an infinite loop. This exchange persists for approximately two hours underneath SCP-8045, at which point the Fairy Fairy manifests, taking both fairies away and leaving behind two quarter coins. Test M Object 1 human tooth. Results No result. Test N Object 1 quarter. Results No result. Test O Object 1 pillow. Results The Pillow Fairy manifests, taking both the object and SCP-8045 itself, leaving behind two quarter coins before flying away and de-manifesting alongside SCP-8045, which has not been recovered since. More From This Author More From This Author JorgeMtzb's Works SCPs SCP-7121 (+109) • SCP-5031-J (+22) • SCP-7229 (+62) • SCP-7194 (+36) • SCP-500-J (+150) • SCP-7911 (+32) • SCP-7192 (+11) • SCP-7424 (+9) • SCP-719M4-J (+216) • SCP-8022 (+78) • Tales/GoI Formats Other JorgeMtzb's Author Page (+22) • ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8045" by JorgeMtzb, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8045. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Name: Average White Pillow Author: Itrytohelp32 License: CC BY-SA 4.0 DEED Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Footnotes 1. For the purposes of SCP-8045, night starts at the point in which the sun is fully below the horizon at its location. 2. Any piece of furniture made for the specific purpose of sleeping. 3. The appearance of these fairies varies widely in size, shape, and appearance, but they all exhibit characteristics resembling the most popular modern form of mythical fairies from folklore in media: small humanoid creatures with butterfly-like wings. |
SCP-8046 | euclid | close Info X SCP-8046: A Bedroom Without A House Author: Pinoccappuccino Sources of Research: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Norwegian_feminine_given_names https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Norwegian_masculine_given_names https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Category:Norwegian-language_surnames https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Albert_(given_name) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buvika https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ebbesen https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frode https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hagen_(surname) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holger_(given_name) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isdal_Woman https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Doe https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kripos https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lahlum https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ola_Nordmann https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orkanger https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Picea_abies https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scandinavian_coastal_conifer_forests https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scandinavian_family_name_etymology https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sør-Trøndelag https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sør-Trøndelag_Police_District https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trøndelag https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trondheim https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unni_(Norwegian_given_name) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valebrokk https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wenche https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/du#Norwegian_Nynorsk https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/er#Norwegian_Nynorsk https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/hvit#Norwegian_Nynorsk https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/min#Norwegian_Nynorsk https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/skau#Norwegian_Nynorsk https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/veg#Norwegian_Nynorsk Item#: 8046 Level2 Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: caution link to memo SPECIAL CONTAINMENT PROCEDURES: Satellite Site-212(f) is solely dedicated to the containment of SCP-8046. The Hvitskauen forest has been enclosed by a chain-link fence with gates on the west and north, a cabin adjacent to the latter. Cabin-212(f)-A and -B1 are provided as residential housing for personnel assigned watch over Site-212(f). Personnel currently residing are Agent Holger Valebrokk, Agent Venke Lahlum, and Senior Researcher Frode Lahlum. Site-212(f) staff are instructed to refer to 1 Hvitskaunvegen and 2 Hvitskaunvegen as their private property, and advised not to leave both cabins unattended. Perimeter of Site-212(f) is under remote surveillance, accessible to all personnel from computers on-site and at NOSTTH-Site-212. As of 2006, non-compromising information of SCP-8046-B including facial reconstructions have been publicized to mainstream media with the intent of outsourcing the civilian population for potential identification. Authorized personnel discussing SCP-8046-B with civilians or unauthorized personnel must abide by Cover Stories Index Krypos§5.2 "Ola og Kari Nordmann", with attention to Subset 5.2.8046 "Hvitskausmannen" for case details. Inventory of samples taken from SCP-8046 for research and physical records pertaining to the anomaly are kept in Storage Locker 6-10 at NOSTTH-Site-212. If SCP-8046 is accessed from outside of the Site-212(f) enclosure, the event and location is to be reported to superiors immediately. DESCRIPTION: SCP-8046 is a spatial anomaly centralized around a wooden door confined to the wilderness of the Hvitskauen forest outside of Buvika, Trøndelag Fylke, Norway. The exact geographic location of SCP-8046 is inconsistent, and cannot be located with set directions, only with perseverance. Tracking of expedition members confirms that the location is extraplanar but coextensive with the baseline, as individuals within SCP-8046 cannot be located by those outside despite cross-referencing GPS coordinates, which are otherwise actuate in recording individuals' movements. Testing indicates SCP-8046 can be accessed unpredictably within an area of approximately 12 square kilometers, and can be traversed by multiple people at once, arriving via individual entrance points or a single access as a close group. Physically, SCP-8046 is a small clearing with flora, fauna, and time of day corresponding with the baseline forest, but weather is consistently under -2℃, with several centimeters of snow always being present, regardless of season. Baseline can easily be returned to by walking into the forest away from the clearing. It is unknown at what distances from SCP-8046-A does a person disappear and reappear, as the shift between SCP-8046 and baseline has never been observed by a stationary outsider, and traversal is always perceived as a gradual transition, even in the event of weather extremes. Erected within the center of SCP-8046 is SCP-8046-A. The door measures 204.15 × 75.57 × 3.8 centimeters, and is inset to a door frame that is a uniform 9.53 cm width and 14.6 cm depth. The foot of the door frame extends into a cement platform measuring 1 × 1 × 0.455 meters, present since the pouring of the cement. Analysis of samples taken confirm SCP-8046-A is constructed with non-anomalous materials that have been commonplace throughout Norway in the 20th century. SCP-8046-A is always found in a closed state. Upon opening the door either inward or outward, the frame proceeds to a further coextensive location, designated SCP-8046-i. SCP-8046 and SCP-8046-i can only be perceived through the boundaries of SCP-8046-A, and attempts by more than one individual in viewing through the opposite side of an accessed SCP-8046-A while in the same iteration are unable to perceive one another through the door frame. All persons or objects in SCP-8046-i cannot be seen outside the boundaries of the frame or interacted with from SCP-8046, and vice versa for occupants of SCP-8046-i looking back at SCP-8046. SCP-8046-A is the only known access point to and from SCP-8046-i, as walking away into the forest does not return an individual to either SCP-8046 or baseline, only continuing as a geographically unidentified expanse of forest. Dismantling of SCP-8046-A disconnects from SCP-8046-i but produces a further spatial anomaly. While the door can be removed from its hinges without issue, all individuals inside SCP-8046-i relocate into SCP-8046 at the corresponding positions and GPS tracking immediately stops upon doing so. Attempting to leave SCP-8046 resulting in individuals walking several hundred meters before invariably returning to the clearing, in spite of directions taken. SCP-8046 can only be departed once the door is returned to the frame. The clearing of SCP-8046-i is identical to the superlative iteration, aside from occasional blizzards and various furniture. Almost none of these objects found in the location exhibit any anomalous properties or known relevance to paranormal culture,2 and the manufacturer has been identified for half of all objects.3 Furnishing are typical of a bedroom: including a nightstand, a bookcase, a dresser, and miscellaneous clothing and items, all covered in snow and faring various states of water damage. The focal point of SCP-8046-i is a twin-sized bed with an adult male human's cadaver lying supine on the left-hand side, designated SCP-8046-B. At a cursory glance, SCP-8046-B's cause of death was knife-related homicide; a kitchen knife (SCP-8046-C) is embedded in the chest, with twelve (12) stab wounds being visible. SCP-8046-B had been stabbed through the covers with no signs of a struggle, presumably asleep. The cadaver has been naturally mummified by the weather of SCP-8046-i and encased in ice that has accumulated on it and under the covers; SCP-8046-B would require an extensive extraction effort to be removed from the mattress with minimal damage, but such a mission has not been approved.4 It has not yet been identified who SCP-8046-B was in life. The right ring finger, prioritized due to the presence of a wedding ring, was successfully severed and transported to NOSTTH-Site-212 for study. SCP-8046-B was identified to be of A+ blood type and R1a haplotype, but no matches have been found in any DNA or fingerprint databases. Ring was inscribed on the interior with 14k Du er min5 28-7-85. Testing of dental records has not yet been approved. All attempts at removing SCP-8046-C have been unsuccessful. Personnel who have grasped SCP-8046-C on both the handle or blade describe feeling a heat emanating from the object, which progressively increases in temperature when applying force in attempt to pull, push, or otherwise lever the blade. Thermal readings show that SCP-8046-C has an ambient temperature of 38.8℃, and readily heats beyond the point of inflicting burns through clothing and damaging apparatuses used to indirectly manipulate it; it proportionally heats by roughly 0.032℃ for every newton of force applied, and cools at a rate expected of a stainless-steel object of its dimensions. Despite this thermal activity, SCP-8046-C does not deform from the heat, nor has it moved under force applied to it, and SCP-8046-B has not thawed around the point of contact. HISTORY: SCP-8046 came to the SCP Foundation's attention after a local from the municipality of Orkanger, Albert Hagen (22, M), disappeared in the Hvitskauen forest while exploring with friends and was reported missing by said friends on 1/1/2003. Hagen's friends told police and news outlets that Hagan had brought them to investigate a rumor he heard of a door out in the forest that "takes people places". Questioning for friends and family was unable to conclusively determine where Hagen heard the rumor, but it was their and staff's general assumption that it was from Unni Ebbesen (27, F): Hagen's cousin was known to hike in the region prior to her death in a boating accident on 14/7/2002. SCP-8046 was located 8/1/2003 during search efforts for Hagen, concurrently by undercover Field Agent Valebrokk and a civilian volunteer. Foundation assets embedded in the Sør-Trøndelag Police District secured the Hvitskauen forest and exclusively continued the search for Hagen. SCP-8046 was given SCP designation as Euclid on 9/1/2003. Hagen's body was located outside of SCP-8046 on 13/1/2003; autopsy confirmed cause of death to be hypothermia, and Hagen's body was given to family without incident. After attempts to dismantle and transport SCP-8046-A failed, NOSTTH-Site-212 administration decided to contain SCP-8046 on location as a satellite site. The land on which the Hvitskauen forest resides was chartered and purchased by a Foundation front company on 3/2/2003. Construction of Satellite Site-212(f) was completed 27/7/2003. Due to risk posed to personnel and equipment from sub-zero temperatures, and fragility of SCP-8046-B, incursions into SCP-8046 have been limited over the years. Approved actions for analysis of SCP-8046 phenomena have included: GPS tracking of personnel entering and leaving SCP-8046, Dismantling of SCP-8046 during occupation of SCP-8046-i, Splinter samples taken from SCP-8046-A and furniture, Removal of bedsheet segment for SCP-8046-B access and fiber analysis, Severing of SCP-8046-B's right ring finger for forensics, Facial reconstructions using photography and non-invasive forensics, Removal of reading material from bookshelf, Unmanned drone exploration into SCP-8046-i. On 22/4/2006, administration authorized dissemination of facial reconstructions made of SCP-8046-B to the Norwegian public under standard pretenses of an unidentified murder victim. Additional reconstructions using different art techniques have been released in 2010 and 2014. This outsourcing to civilians as well as cross-analysis with the national list of missing persons have been unsuccessful in identifying the "Hvitskau Man". On 1/9/2013, SCP-8046 was denied reclassification as Safe, justified largely in part due to the unpredictability in accessing SCP-8046 and uncertainty where it can be accessed from. Concurrently, further long-term investigation of SCP-8046-i and its contents was postponed due to lack of productivity, and funding for SCP-8046 research was redirected to Site-212's other projects. Remaining personnel containment were granted authority to conduct independent investigations using existing samples and records, with possibility of future incursions into SCP-8046-i needing to be approved by Site Director or Assistant Site Director. As of 10/6/2024, Site-212(f) personnel have not found conclusive evidence if SCP-8046's area of encounter has expanded, nor any evidence it has shifted outside of the Hvitskauen. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8046" by Pinoccappuccino , from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8046. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Footnotes 1. Addresses: 1 & 2 Hvitskaunvegen, 7350 Buvika 2. The exception being a table lamp whose power cord extends and unknown into the permafrost and underground, and has not been observed to go out in the time since SCP-8046's discovery. 3. Nothing has been identified to have existed after May 1996. 4. Portions of the duvet have been cut away to access SCP-8046-B for onsite forensics. 5. Norwegian for "You are mine". |
SCP-8047 | esoteric-class | You're gonna live another day. You're just not going to like how. SCP-8047 instance. Item #: SCP-8047 Special Containment Procedures: Colonies of SCP-8047 instances are to be maintained inside the Biological Research Wing of Site-270. Sub-colonies are to be maintained throughout a number of other facilities, in accordance with the SOLID VOICE Directive. During experiments with SCP-8047, personnel are to wear proper safety equipment to minimize the risk of improper exposure. If these measures fail, the doors to the SCP-8047 enclosure are to be sealed with the subject still inside. Description: SCP-8047 designates a species of anomalous organisms vaguely resembling enchytraeus albidus, colloquially known as the "white worm". SCP-8047's anomalous properties become evident when an instance is presented with a living human subject, with a marked preference for subjects that are heavily injured and near death. When this occurs, the SCP-8047 instances will burrow into the subject's flesh using its concealed teeth. During this process, the SCP-8047 instance will secrete a form of anesthetic, preventing a pain response. Once inside of the subject's body, it will rapidly move throughout the bloodstream before, approximately 32 minutes later, ceasing observable activity. No adverse effects have been reported during this stage. The presence of SCP-8047 inside of a host organism has a number of beneficial and anomalous effects on the subject. These include: The anomalous reversal of biological senescence; Rapid tissue regeneration; Recovery from other anomalous conditions; Reduced incidence of cancerous cell growth; No subject died following exposure to the anomaly, regardless of their prior injuries. Following a dormant phase of approximately 15 to 24 hours, the SCP-8047 instance will resume activity. It will travel rapidly throughout the host's body, laying an extremely large number of eggs as it does so. The rate of oviparity is believed to be anomalous as well. All attempts to arrest or delay this process have failed. Within a period of no less than 16 hours, a single SCP-8047 instance will have been to able to lay as many as 62,000 eggs. Following this, the eggs will hatch simultaneously, releasing a large number of juvenile SCP-8047 instances. This is known as an PRENTISS Event. These subjects will secrete a caustic fluid from their mouths, aiding them in breaking down the body of the host organism as they consume it for nutrients. In all observed cases, this has resulted in the subject's death. Discovery: SCP-8047 was first discovered in Lycoming County, Pennsylvania, USA after reports of one William Bates making a miraculous recovery following his accidental shooting at the hands of Henry Bates, his brother, during a deer hunt. MTF-Phi-81 ("Non-Specific Colitis") took Bates into Foundation custody, where the first known PRENTISS Event was observed. AUTOMATED NOTICE The remainder of this file is restricted to personnel with 4/SOLID VOICE Clearance. Attempting to access it without the proper credentials is considered a Class-V Infraction and will be disciplined accordingly. ACCESS GRANTED Addendum — SOLID VOICE Proposal On 3/10/2022, Dr. Wilfred Eisen (PID-3982MQ) submitted a proposal for the use of SCP-8047 to the administration of the Fire Suppression Department. An excerpt of his proposal is attached below. [EXCERPT BEGINS] Form ID: FSD-048291GRQ Introduction: One of the greatest challenges of the Fire Suppression Department is the effect that fatal containment breaches on the psyche of the average staff member. Personnel who have lost a close colleague in the line of duty show an alarming tendency towards workplace dissatisfaction, undesirable mental conditions,1 and unproductivity. On average, a Foundation facility will experience 3.9 fatal containment breaches per year, resulting in a disastrous outcome for the interests of the Department. Unfortunately, obvious methods of solving this issue are either impractical or inadequate. Widespread amnesticization of employees is prohibited both by the expense and Resolution EC #3948. Attempting to decrease the rate of breach-related fatalities via improved safety measures is not cost-efficient. Pre-existing protocols such as LUCKY HARE, due to their reliance on irreplicable anomalous objects, are insufficient. Additionally, SCP-8047 is an anomalous species of worm that, when given access to a human subject, will burrow into their flesh and begin to lay eggs within their body. During this process, the subject's body will undergo rapid regeneration. Approximately two days later, SCP-8047 will kill its host subject via the spontaneous hatching of the eggs that it lays in the host's flesh. The following proposal will outline a new procedure to be adopted by the Fire Suppression Department involving SCP-8047 and to be codenamed SOLID VOICE. Proposal: SOLID VOICE Protocol is to consist of the following: Under the guise of minimizing the risk of losing access to the anomalous object in the event of the destruction of its facility, SCP-8047 colonies are to be established in facilities with a high rate of containment failure; Following a containment breach, if a subject is deemed to have a >95% chance of dying, SCP-8047 instances are to be covertly administered to the researcher; They are to be attended by their colleagues and assured of their "miraculous" recovery; If necessary, the presence of a Thaumiel-Class anomalous object with regenerative properties is to be fabricated; The subject is to be allowed time to interact with and mingle with their colleagues, further impressing upon their colleagues that the subject survived; Possible venues for this is the fabrication of a tradition of "after-breach" parties; Before the beginning of the oviparity phase, under the guise of quarantine, the subject is to be detained further; In reality, their body is to be locked inside of the SCP-8047 enclosure until the conclusion of the PRENTISS Event; A cover story is to be disseminated that the researcher was transferred to another facility on a classified project; This project is to be described as low risk, as a means of psychological recovery for personnel who just went through a near-death experience; In the event of colleagues attempting to communicate with the deceased subject via email or snail mail, Artificially Intelligent Conscript Edison.aic is to fabricate responses; The protocol is estimated to be extremely cost effective, as the population of SCP-8047 instances is inherently self replenishing. In total, SOLID VOICE Protocol is expected to result in a 85% decrease in reported fatalities, with extreme benefits to workplace productivity and the aims of the Foundation. [EXCERPT ENDS] The proposal was approved for use in a 34-11 vote by the FSD administration. As of 5/12/2024, an 89% success rate has been observed. Footnotes 1. Such as PTSD, survivor's guilt, and depression. |
SCP-8048 | safe | Item #: SCP-8048 Stellar Cartography Protocols: To be applied to RA ██h ██m ██s, Dec. -██° ██′ ██″, in accordance with the █████ system. No additional containment protocols are necessary for SCP-8048. SCP-8048 is currently in the Hypatian Index under ticket HI-522. Containment will be terminated no sooner than 2061, and its compliance with modern astronomy will be re-evaluated each decade. Description: SCP-8048 is the fourth exoplanet from the star MSS-████, designated █████ upon its discovery by the Mercurial Star Survey in 2007. Remote sensing of SCP-8048 before Foundation involvement revealed that the planet is mostly composed of oxygen, carbon, nitrogen and calcium, and has a dense atmosphere with high humidity. This, combined with its optimal distance from its sun, drew brief interest from the scientific community. However, its distance and atmosphere made further investigation difficult by mundane practices. Pursuing Foundation interests in exobiology, stellar probe IX-809 approached and took images of SCP-8048's surface in 2011. Upon reception of these images, the planet was designated SCP-8048 and was immediately given a ticket in the Hypatian Index. Entrances to a connected cave system, explored by eXR-8048. SCP-8048 is entirely covered in organic materials of a similar composition to human skin, and has a pattern of topological features greatly reminiscent of human features, including extremities, calcium structures resembling exposed bones, and facial features. Water features along SCP-8048's surface include large quantities of iron, lending them a red coloration. A follow-up investigation by Foundation rover eXR-8048 revealed further resemblance between SCP-8048's geologic features and human anatomy. eXR 8048 mapped several cave systems accessible from SCP-8048's surface with striking, though imperfect, correlation to internal human anatomical structures. Cave interiors were notably wet, their surfaces soft and porous, and their chambers alternated between smaller passages and larger chambers, some with pools of water mixed with hydrochloric acid. Of note, samples of SCP-8048's crust composition collected by eXR-8048 did not reveal cellular structures or human DNA, nor any other DNA or microbiological structures. The termination of SCP-8048's containment is largely reliant on the Foundation's ability to justify SCP-8048's structure as a naturally occurring phenomenon. Addendum: An unidentified object, designated AAO-m324, caught Foundation attention when it was discovered to be travelling faster than light and was thus likely a spacecraft. Its priority was heightened once its calculated trajectory put it in Sol's orbit within four years. AAO-m324 was intercepted by Foundation exodrone Wan Hu on 2/28/2023, prepared for a hostile encounter. However, although AAO-m324 was quickly identified as a small shuttle, proximity provoked no measurable reaction. Wan Hu attached onto AAO-m324 and released its interior unit to penetrate and investigate. AAO-m324 was composed of a material made largely of calcium, unique for recorded alien spacecraft. Patterning on AAO-m324's exterior superficially resembled human eyes, repeatedly painted in a line along its meridian. Penetration into AAO-m324 broke a pressurized system, destroying and agitating much of the interior, which consisted of a single chamber. After some scrutiny and communication with Command, Wan Hu retrieved the recently deceased remains of the two inhabitants, and redirected the object into the orbit of a nearby star. Removed organ present in both alien cadavers. The remains are of roughly insectoid or arachnoid proportions, bearing six limbs and two distinct body segments. The bodies are 142 and 150 cm long, and are largely identical. The bodies' exteriors bear striking resemblance to earth's soil, including thin and fibrous protrusions superficially resembling grass and denser, more matted green material resembling moss. Beneath a porous brown exterior, the bodies have a hard gray exoskeleton similar in composition to earth's sediment. Inside, the bodies are full of a clear liquid with a similar viscosity to water, and have multi-colored geometric organs resembling human buildings. Of note, samples of these remains collected by Foundation scientists did reveal cellular structures, an analogue to DNA, and organelles. Calculation of AAO-m324's travel, assuming no major deviations, as well as assessment of AAO-m324's contents, suggests SCP-8048 as a likely origin. It's really not about you. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8048" by DarkStuff, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8048. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: File:08.02 V untoutpetitpeu3.jpg Author: Pascale Grau License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:08.02_V_untoutpetitpeu3.jpg Filename: File:Model of a House MET 07.231.10.jpg Author: Metropolitan Museum of Art License: Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Model_of_a_House_MET_07.231.10.jpg |
SCP-8048 | uncontained | Item #: SCP-8048 Stellar Cartography Protocols: To be applied to RA ██h ██m ██s, Dec. -██° ██′ ██″, in accordance with the █████ system. No additional containment protocols are necessary for SCP-8048. SCP-8048 is currently in the Hypatian Index under ticket HI-522. Containment will be terminated no sooner than 2061, and its compliance with modern astronomy will be re-evaluated each decade. Description: SCP-8048 is the fourth exoplanet from the star MSS-████, designated █████ upon its discovery by the Mercurial Star Survey in 2007. Remote sensing of SCP-8048 before Foundation involvement revealed that the planet is mostly composed of oxygen, carbon, nitrogen and calcium, and has a dense atmosphere with high humidity. This, combined with its optimal distance from its sun, drew brief interest from the scientific community. However, its distance and atmosphere made further investigation difficult by mundane practices. Pursuing Foundation interests in exobiology, stellar probe IX-809 approached and took images of SCP-8048's surface in 2011. Upon reception of these images, the planet was designated SCP-8048 and was immediately given a ticket in the Hypatian Index. Entrances to a connected cave system, explored by eXR-8048. SCP-8048 is entirely covered in organic materials of a similar composition to human skin, and has a pattern of topological features greatly reminiscent of human features, including extremities, calcium structures resembling exposed bones, and facial features. Water features along SCP-8048's surface include large quantities of iron, lending them a red coloration. A follow-up investigation by Foundation rover eXR-8048 revealed further resemblance between SCP-8048's geologic features and human anatomy. eXR 8048 mapped several cave systems accessible from SCP-8048's surface with striking, though imperfect, correlation to internal human anatomical structures. Cave interiors were notably wet, their surfaces soft and porous, and their chambers alternated between smaller passages and larger chambers, some with pools of water mixed with hydrochloric acid. Of note, samples of SCP-8048's crust composition collected by eXR-8048 did not reveal cellular structures or human DNA, nor any other DNA or microbiological structures. The termination of SCP-8048's containment is largely reliant on the Foundation's ability to justify SCP-8048's structure as a naturally occurring phenomenon. Addendum: An unidentified object, designated AAO-m324, caught Foundation attention when it was discovered to be travelling faster than light and was thus likely a spacecraft. Its priority was heightened once its calculated trajectory put it in Sol's orbit within four years. AAO-m324 was intercepted by Foundation exodrone Wan Hu on 2/28/2023, prepared for a hostile encounter. However, although AAO-m324 was quickly identified as a small shuttle, proximity provoked no measurable reaction. Wan Hu attached onto AAO-m324 and released its interior unit to penetrate and investigate. AAO-m324 was composed of a material made largely of calcium, unique for recorded alien spacecraft. Patterning on AAO-m324's exterior superficially resembled human eyes, repeatedly painted in a line along its meridian. Penetration into AAO-m324 broke a pressurized system, destroying and agitating much of the interior, which consisted of a single chamber. After some scrutiny and communication with Command, Wan Hu retrieved the recently deceased remains of the two inhabitants, and redirected the object into the orbit of a nearby star. Removed organ present in both alien cadavers. The remains are of roughly insectoid or arachnoid proportions, bearing six limbs and two distinct body segments. The bodies are 142 and 150 cm long, and are largely identical. The bodies' exteriors bear striking resemblance to earth's soil, including thin and fibrous protrusions superficially resembling grass and denser, more matted green material resembling moss. Beneath a porous brown exterior, the bodies have a hard gray exoskeleton similar in composition to earth's sediment. Inside, the bodies are full of a clear liquid with a similar viscosity to water, and have multi-colored geometric organs resembling human buildings. Of note, samples of these remains collected by Foundation scientists did reveal cellular structures, an analogue to DNA, and organelles. Calculation of AAO-m324's travel, assuming no major deviations, as well as assessment of AAO-m324's contents, suggests SCP-8048 as a likely origin. It's really not about you. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8048" by DarkStuff, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8048. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: File:08.02 V untoutpetitpeu3.jpg Author: Pascale Grau License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:08.02_V_untoutpetitpeu3.jpg Filename: File:Model of a House MET 07.231.10.jpg Author: Metropolitan Museum of Art License: Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Model_of_a_House_MET_07.231.10.jpg |
SCP-8049 | esoteric-class | SUBTITLE: WELCOME TO THE PLAYERS, GAME. Item#: 8049 Level1 Containment Class: integrated Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: none Risk Class: none link to memo Special Containment Procedures: As SCP-8049 is fully integrated with the Foundation in the form of MTF Sigma-68 ("The CorpseBallers"), no containment is necessary. Description: SCP-8049 is a game played exclusively between alternate timeline or dimension versions of the SCP Foundation.. Similar normalcy organizations, such as the Control Institution, the Zhujihui and on one occasion, The Shark Punching Centre, have been noted to play. The game is played in 3 versus 3 matches, or 5 versus 5. All matches are played in Interdimensional Area-66, which is a facility located outside of the universe, similar to the Wanderer's Library. It is accessible through a Way in the upper peninsula of Michigan, in the form of a door with a human shaped indent. The game is played between two teams, each having one torso on their side. The torso cannot be stolen from a team. In the middle of the arena, there is a head, two arms, and two legs. The team with the most complete corpse after five minutes will win. Every six months, the corpseball team of every universe will be transported to compete in a tournament. Though the rules may vary slightly in each timeline, the tournament only has two rules. The corpse must be assembled by hand, and it cannot be altered in any way by thaumaturgy, ontokinesis, or reality-bending. Any death or injuries will be reversed upon the conclusion of the match. SCP-8049 appears to alter documentation of itself, resulting in the addition of episode numbers and titles, and arrangement of documentation in a narratively satisfying manner. Addendum 8049.1: THE PANDORA TOURNAMENT On 8/14/24, a message was sent to every iteration of the SCP Foundation. It is attached below. WELCOME, SCP FOUNDATION OR NORMALCY ORGANIZATION OF THIS UNIVERSE. IF YOU HAVE RECEIVED THIS MESSAGE, YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN TO PLAY IN THE PANDORA TOURNAMENT UPON COMPLETION OF THE TOURNAMENT TOO COOL TO LIST THE NAME OF TWICE IN THIS DOCUMENT, THE VICTOR WILL BE REWARDED WITH THE RULEBOOK WHATEVER TEAM POSSESSES THE RULEBOOK WILL RULE THE SPORT AND BE UNBEATABLE. YOU HAVE UNTIL 10/15/24 TO PREPARE YOUR TEAMS. SEE YOU THEN. CORPSEBALL™© The PANDORA TOURNAMENT Arc™© is sponsored by Goldbaker-Reinz, your choice of healthcare and insurance in this crazy multiverse. Addendum 8049.2: The PANDORA TOURNAMENT Recruitment Process Following the message sent in Addendum 8049.1, a special team was formed. Using various narrative measuring devices, the members of the team were selected from a catalogue of traditional "underdogs". The Department of Narrativistics has faith that utilizing certain tropes will increase the odds of victory. Currently, the roster consists of: Doctor Francis Own, Head Researcher of the Department of Applied Horology. Dr. Dino Draws, Junior Researcher of the Department of Geology. Leon O'Sullivan, Assistant Director of Site-32, Thaumaturgy Consultant. Organized into the 419th iteration of MTF Sigma-68. Addendum 8049.3: GAME ONE of The PANDORA TOURNAMENT Arc™© TEAM IN PLAY: Sigma-68, "The CorpseBallers" (UNIVERSE 110), vs Epsilon-25, "Losing Streak" (UNIVERSE B1145). SIGMA-68: Dr. Francis Own (Blood Alcohol Content Over 0.06%), Dr. Dino Draws (Strongest Physically), Leon O'Sullivan (Thaumaturgist) EPSILON-25: Sir Saylor Moto (Walrusman), D-644 (Thaumaturgist), Dr. Shippin Arsehowl (Has A Stomach Ache) SETTING: Begins in a pre-game arena with MTF Sigma-68 and Epsilon-25 conversing. OWN: So… Uhm. Hello. ARSEHOWL: Are you nervous? OWN: Fuck yes I am. They put me on a team and tell me I need to win this thing so we can win tournaments forever. That's a big fuckin' ask. AND they take away my booze. How do they expect me to work like this? ARSEHOWL: Must be rough to have so much placed on you without your consent. OWN: It is. It really, really is. ARSEHOWL: Not like I'd know anything about that. OWN: … Right. Uh. I've gotta go, uh, Doctor. (Own walks away, walking toward Draws and O'Sullivan.) OWN: Who the fuck are these people? DRAWS: I dunno. I was chatting a little bit with one of them. The jumpsuit. He was a bit of a jerk 'fore he skedaddled off to talk with the walrus guy. (O'Sullivan is staring blankly at the wall.) OWN: O'Sullivan. (Pause.) DRAWS: Leeeeoooon. (He snaps back to attention.) O'SULLIVAN: Yeah? OWN: Cool. You're here. O'SULLIVAN: Mhm. OWN: Can you stop my hangover? My head is killing me. O'SULLIVAN: I don't want to do too much thaumaturgy beforehand. OWN: Why not? If you don't help the team, it's gonna be a bit hard to not get chewed out by the big guys when we get back. O'SULLIVAN: The more EVE you use, the less stable the backlash. I thought you would understand the basics, being a head researcher. OWN: It's not my area of expertise! I literally keep the clocks running! DRAWS: Wellllllll. You guys excited? OWN / O'SULLIVAN: No. DRAWS: … bizarring. OWN: What? DRAWS: Don't even stress. We just have to win! O'SULLIVAN: You're damn optimistic. DRAWS: I can fly. So. I can mosey on over to the middle, take the corpse parts, and bring it to our end. Easy! OWN: Great idea. I don't have to do anything. O'SULLIVAN: (Harshly.) Own. OWN: I'll do my best, but I can't really promise anything. My arms are like noodles. DRAWS: You two dopes can keep arguing. I'm gonna meet the D-Class they have over there. OWN: Watch out for an Arsehowl. (Pause.) O'SULLIVAN: Have fun, Draws. (The sound of scraping against metal can be heard, as the SCP-8049 arena is formed. It is a flat concrete space. MTF Sigma-68 and Epsilon-25 are placed on opposite ends, each with one torso on their end. In the middle, there sit two arms, two legs, and a head.) OWN: Looks like it's time to start the game. O'SULLIVAN: Yeah. DRAWS: Yerp. O'SULLIVAN: You can meet them while we play. (A gun goes off, signaling the start of the game. Around the arena, glass is formed, and things that look like people appear to fill the audience.) (Dr. Arsehowl charges, trying to grab the head placed in the middle. O'Sullivan raises his hand, a torrent of stark blue fire engulfing her. When the smoke clears, only ash remains. Audience hoots.) O'SULLIVAN: Get the parts, Draws. DRAWS: Aye-aye! (Fi flies, picking up the head and an arm.) O'SULLIVAN: It's good they don't have a thaumaturgist. I wore myself pretty thin— (D-644 snaps her fingers, the concrete of the room twisting, as a stone spike impales Francis Own through the shoulder.) OWN: Well, fuck me. (Two more spikes skewer his stomach. O'Sullivan raises an emerald-colored barrier of energy around Draws, sweat forming on his brow.) (Sir Moto meanders toward the middle, grabbing an arm and the remaining two legs. Draws attaches the head and arm to fir team's torso. Fi rockets through the air toward Moto in an attempt to snatch him off the ground. The two collide, and Moto topples over.) MOTO: AHOY! GET YE HANDS OFF ME, YE SCUM OF THE SKY! DRAWS: WELL! (Pause.) FUCK YOU TOO! (Fi takes fir cane, beginning to hit Moto over the head with it.) MOTO: FIRE, LASSIE! (O'Sullivan pants, D-644 sending a firebolt toward Draws' wing. O'Sullivan and D-644 both manage to exercise some control over the firebolt, stopping it mid-path.) O'SULLIVAN: DRAWS! RUN! (Fi looks at the magical fight, fir barrier slowly dissolving as O'Sullivan focuses on wrestling the firebolt, and manages to snatch one of the legs from Moto.) D-644: Let go, old man! Let! Go! (D-644 pushes, the bolt inching towards closer and closer to the evacuating Draws. O'Sullivan, using the last of his strength, diverts it from its path. The firebolt hits him instead, and he falls.) (Draws uses this time to attach the leg, securing their victory with 3/5 of the limbs.) (All dead and harmed players are healed. Most sit up and pant.) DRAWS: Holy shit! We did it! OWN: You let me fucking die!!! O'SULLIVAN: It's not like you did anything to really fight against the spike once it was in you. Or to make it worth saving you. OWN: Do you know what being dead is like?! O'SULLIVAN: Dunno. Tell me. OWN: A surprising amount of men, actually. (Pause.) DRAWS: … bizarring. (Pause.) O'SULLIVAN: Yeah. Uhm. We did it. (The opposing team disappears in a flash of blue light.) (Pause.) OWN: I hope you two fucking— (The footage ends.) Addendum 8049.4: Interdimensional Area-66 Footage PRESENT: Emily.aic. An .aic designed to train Corpseball teams between matches, with her speech capacities built off a Large Language Model for cost-efficiency. , Interdimensional Area-66 Director Blade Young YOUNG: Emily, status report. EMILY.AIC: stat tits (An audible sigh.) YOUNG: Emily, who is currently in the training facility? EMILY.AIC: alcohol, liberal, irish YOUNG: Them? Really? EMILY.AIC: middle key there was italian YOUNG: I can't believe it. The prophecy might be coming true. EMILY.AIC: queer YOUNG: We've got to get you upgraded. Can you pull up documents about The Corpseball Prophet? EMILY.AIC: nah cant find im gonna jacking YOUNG: Fine. I'll do it myself. Can't even get good help these days. (Director Young pulls out a scroll, unfolding it to reveal a crudely drawn image of three people.) YOUNG: This is the prophecy, Emily. This is the fate of the Pandora Tournament. Three heroes will claim the Corpseball Rules, and forever be the victors. But it can't be these three! According to legend, if The Dead Three claim these scrolls, Corpseball will be changed forever. The Dead Three are… Well, we don't know, but we sure damn know one of them is a weird dinosaur guy. The scrolls make this clear. EMILY.AIC: cock YOUNG: Now I just need to know what to do. What. Shall. We. Do. EMILY.AIC: Shoot them. YOUNG: Hmmm… no. I can't. People can't know I'm doing this— That would ruin my reputation! But Corpseball changing would ruin my shot at running this place, I hate learning new things. EMILY.AIC: bizzaring YOUNG: Who even said that??? It's not a fucking word! Whatever. Whatever. You're doing great, Emily. EMILY.AIC: blow me bbygirl YOUNG: Now… Make sure that team… (Mutters, flipping through a list.) Sigma-68. Them. Make sure they don't get the best training they can. EMILY.AIC: ill castrate bc they are real fr whole whores Addendum 8049.5: GAME TWO OF THE PANDORA TOURNAMENT TEAM IN PLAY: Sigma-68, "The CorpseBallers" (UNIVERSE 110), vs Icarus-01, "HUBRIS INCARNATE" (Universe 4755-AD-J) SIGMA-68: Dr. Francis Own (Blood Alcohol Content Over 0.06%), Dr. Dino Draws (Strongest Physically), Leon O'Sullivan (Thaumaturgist) ICARUS-01: [DATA CORRUTPED] SETTING: Begins pre-game with Dr. Own, Dr. Draws, and Assistant Director O'Sullivan. DRAWS: Well, that was lovely. OWN: Did not expect to get such a nice room. O'SULLIVAN: Yeah. I guess you're right there. Don't expect this next team to be any easier, you know. OWN: Yeah, yeah. Stakes get higher and all. Really though, what could be worse than those last guys? One of them was a pirate. DRAWS: … Do you have something against pirates? OWN: They're freaks. No pirate has ever felt the touch of a woman. Or a man, for the record. (Footsteps can be faintly heard.) O'SULLIVAN: Shush. OWN: Don't tell me to shut— O'SULLIVAN: Shut up Own. MCDOCTORATE: Hey. O'SULLIVAN: … Who are you? MCDOCTORATE: Dr. McDoctorate. I WOULD like to introduce myself in a more proper fashion, but, you know. Curse on my name and all. (Draws' eyes widen, as fi unblinkingly stares at McDoctorate.) (Pause.) OWN: Is… is Draws okay? O'SULLIVAN: I have no idea. MCDOCTORATE: Sorry about all of this, I didn't necessarily have a choice in being drafted into the game, and I'd really rather prefer not to be completely obliterated from existence if I have a choice in the matter, you know? OWN: Huh? (A gun goes off, signaling the start of the game. Around the arena, glass is formed. Things of many shapes and sizes fill the audience, cheering and bleating and mooing and oinking.) (The concrete walls fall away to reveal two large machines. One is a large icosahedron, rotating and being continually struck with red sparks of red electricity. The other is a complicated series of mechanisms, emanating a constant source of narrative potential.) DRAWS: Oh. O'SULLIVAN: For God's sake. OWN: Hey! Look! We can still win— (Own moves in front of the team, as each team's torso manifests. Two arms and two legs appear in the middle, and he speaks.) OWN: With the power of teamwork, or whatever the kids are talking about, we can— (SCP-6820 erases Draws, O'Sullivan, and Own from existence.) (Five minutes of McDoctorate meandering to collect the limbs from the center follow.) After the game, MTF Sigma-68 was moved to the Loser's Bracket. The winner of the Loser's Bracket will get another chance at winning the tournament. AS TENSIONS BEGIN TO BROIL OVER, YOU'RE ALL LEFT WITH ONE QUESTION. WILL SIGMA-68 BE ABLE TO FIGHT THEIR WAY OUT OF THE LOSER'S BRACKET? NOBODY KNOWS. YOU'LL HAVE TO TUNE INTO THE NEXT EPISODE OF— CORPSEBALL: THE PANDORA TOURNAMENT ARC™© |
SCP-8050 | esoteric-class | Following the Impasse, a dead artifact resurfaces. As it jumps from hand to hand, Vanguard must face the ghosts of its past to protect the future. /* Foxtrot Sigma-9 Theme [2022 Wikidot Theme] By Liryn */ /* FONTS */ @import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Montserrat:ital,wght@0,800;1,800&display=swap'); @import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Lexend:wght@700;800&display=swap'); @import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=JetBrains+Mono:ital,wght@0,400;0,700;1,400;1,700&display=swap'); @import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Fira+Code:wght@400;700&display=swap'); @import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Sofia+Sans:ital,wght@0,400;0,700;1,400;1,700&display=swap'); @import url('https://rsms.me/inter/inter.css'); @import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Figtree:wght@800;900&display=swap'); @import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=IBM+Plex+Sans:ital,wght@0,400;0,500;0,600;0,700;1,400;1,500;1,600;1,700&display=swap'); /* VARIABLES */ :root { /* VARIABLES > Core */ --header-title: "SCP Foundation"; --header-subtitle: "SECURE, CONTAIN, PROTECT"; --logo-img: url(https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/theme:foxtrot/fxtrt-scp_logo_lightmode.svg); --darkmode-logo-img: url(https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/theme:foxtrot/fxtrt-scp_logo_darkmode.svg); --logo-opacity: 14%; --head-font: 'Sans Normalcy'; --ui-font: 'IBM Plex Sans'; --mono-font: 'JetBrains Mono', 'Fira Code', monospace; --page-font: 'Inter', 'verdana'; --base-font-size: 0.9rem; --page-font-size: 1rem; /* VARIABLES > Misc */ --header-txt-color: #333333; --subheader-txt-color: rgb(var(--accent)); --misc-txt-color: #464646; --link-txt-color: #E6283C; --link-hover-txt-color: white; /* VARIABLES > Color Accents */ --accent: var(--acc-default); --acc-default: 59, 59, 59; --acc-wyoming: 142, 0, 18; --acc-canada: var(--acc-default); --acc-poland: 87, 44, 17; --acc-slothspit: 27, 60, 133; --acc-vanguard: 0, 153, 75; --acc-threshold: 121, 113, 130; --acc-overwatch: 28, 37, 56; --acc-spc: 0, 165, 200; --acc-fishing: 67, 111, 145; --acc-nightfall: 151, 0, 2; --acc-hybrasil: 27, 60, 133; --acc-goc: 39, 84, 149; --acc-spooky: 252, 112, 40; /* VARIABLES > BetterFootnotes */ --fnColor: var(--link-txt-color); --fnLinger: 1s; } /* VARIABLES > Info Bar */ .info-container { --barColour: rgb(var(--accent)); --linkColour: #EDEDED; } /* MAIN */ html { scroll-behavior: smooth; overflow-x: hidden; } body { font-family: var(--ui-font), sans-serif; font-size: var(--base-font-size); color: rgb(51, 51, 51); background-image: linear-gradient(to bottom, #e0e0e0, #fff 200px); text-rendering: optimizeLegibility; overflow-wrap: break-word; } div#container-wrap { background: none; } #content-wrap { margin: 2em auto 0; } #page-content { font-family: var(--page-font), var(--ui-font), sans-serif; font-size: var(--page-font-size); font-weight: 440; } #page-content strong { font-weight: 700; } tt, .page-source, pre, #edit-page-textarea { font-family: var(--mono-font); } ol li { margin: 0 0 1em; } ul { margin: 1em 0; } li, p { line-height: 1.5; text-underline-offset: 40%; } ::selection { background: rgb(var(--accent)); color: #fff; } /* Clicky links */ a, a.newpage, a:visited, #side-bar a:visited { color: var(--link-txt-color); } a:hover, a.newpage:hover, a:visited:hover, #side-bar a:visited:hover { color: var(--link-hover-txt-color); text-decoration: none; background-color: var(--link-txt-color); } a { transition-duration: 0.1s; } /* patch for sidebar media, collapsibles, ACS, info button and ayers module so link doesn't override */ #page-content .collapsible-block-folded a:hover, #page-content .collapsible-block-unfolded-link a:hover, #page-content .rate-box-with-credit-button .fa-info:hover, #side-bar .side-block.media a:hover, .danger-diamond a:hover { background: transparent; } .info-container .collapsible-block-folded .collapsible-block-link, .info-container .collapsible-block-link { background: var(--linkColour) !important; } /* MAIN > Header */ div#header { background: none; height: 160px; } #header h1 span, #header h2 span { font-size: 0; display: none; } #header h1 a::before, #header h2::before { color: var(--header-txt-color); letter-spacing: 1px; font-family: var(--head-font), sans-serif !important; font-weight: 900; text-shadow: none; } #header h1 { margin-top: -0.3rem; } #header h1 a { width: fit-content; margin: auto; } #header h1 a::before { content: var(--header-title); font-size: 1.3em; } #header h2::before { content: var(--header-subtitle); font-family: var(--ui-font) !important; font-weight: 700; font-size: 1.4em; color: var(--misc-txt-color); line-height: 26px; margin-top: 0.35rem; display: block; text-transform: uppercase; } #header h1, #header h2 { margin-left: 0; float: none; text-align: center; } #header h1 span, #header h2 span { font-size: 0; display: none; } div#extra-div-1 { height: 160px; width: 100%; top: 7px; position: absolute; background: var(--logo-img) 10px 30px no-repeat; background-size: 130px; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: 50% 50%; z-index: -1; opacity: var(--logo-opacity); } /* MAIN > Header > Search Box */ #search-top-box-form>input[type=text] { display: none; } #search-top-box-input, #search-top-box-input:hover, #search-top-box-input:focus, #search-top-box-form input[type=submit], #search-top-box-form input[type=submit]:hover, #search-top-box-form input[type=submit]:focus { border: none; background: rgb(var(--accent)); box-shadow: none; border-radius: 5px !important; color: #efefef; font-family: var(--ui-font); font-size: calc(var(--page-font-size) - 10%); } #search-top-box input.empty { color: #999999; } #search-top-box { position: absolute; top: 47px; width: unset; } /* MAIN > Header > Top Bar */ #top-bar, #top-bar a { top: 10rem; } #header #top-bar ul { border-radius: 10px; border: none; background: rgb(var(--accent)); padding-left: 15px; padding-right: 15px; } #header #top-bar a { color: white; background: rgb(var(--accent)); font-weight: bold; } #header #top-bar ul li ul { padding: 0px; border-radius: 0px; } #top-bar ul li.sfhover a, #top-bar ul li:hover a { border-left: solid 1px #FFF; border-right: solid 1px #FFF; } #top-bar ul li ul li a:hover { color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.83) !important; line-height: 230%; text-indent: 3px; } #top-bar { display: flex; justify-content: center; right: 0; } .mobile-top-bar { left: unset; } /* MAIN > Header > Login Info */ #login-status { top: 19px; } #login-status, #login-status a { color: #333333; } @media (max-width: 767px) { #header .printuser { font-size: 0; } } .printuser a { margin: 0; } .printuser img.small { width: 18px; height: 18px; padding: 1px 4px 0 0; background-image: none !important; } @media (max-width: 767px) { #header .printuser img.small { transform: translate(0, 4px); } } #my-account { display: none; } @media (max-width: 767px) { #account-topbutton { margin: 0 0 0 5px; } } /* MAIN > Header > Side Bar */ #top-bar .open-menu a { border-radius: 0px; border: none; background: rgb(var(--accent)); color: white; } #side-bar { background: #FFF; } @media (min-width: 768px) { #side-bar { padding: 0.3em 0.6em 0 0.6em; width: 18.75em; transition: left 0.2s ease-in-out; direction: rtl; text-align: left; border-right: none; } } #side-bar .side-block, #side-bar .side-block.resources, #side-bar .side-block.media, #interwiki .side-block { border: 2px solid rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2); border-radius: 0px; box-shadow: none; margin-bottom: 6px; direction: ltr; background: transparent; } #side-bar .side-block.resources { text-align: center; } #side-bar .heading { color: var(--misc-txt-color); border-bottom: solid 2px #cfcfcf; font-size: 9pt; font-family: var(--head-font); font-weight: 800; text-transform: uppercase; } /* CONTENT */ /* CONTENT > Blockquotes, Custom Divs */ .blockquote, div.blockquote, blockquote { border: solid 2px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.15); background: #f7f7f7; } .jotting { padding: 1.3em; margin: 1em 4.5em; border: dashed 2px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2); background: #f7f7f7; } .notation { padding: 1em 1.5em; margin: 1em 3em; border-left: solid 3px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.35); border-right: solid 3px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.35); background: #f7f7f7; } .modal { padding: 1.2em; margin: 1em 3em; border: solid 5px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.15); background: #fbfbfb; } .quote { padding: 0.4em 2em; margin: 3em auto; border-left: solid 3px #bbb; max-width: 500px !important; } .paper { padding: 1.5em; margin: 2em; background: #FFF; box-shadow: 0px 4px 9px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2); } .box { padding: 1px 9px; border: solid 3px #bbb; margin: 0.5em 1em; } div.note { font-size: unset; border: 2px solid #afafaf; background-color: #fff; } .round { border-radius: 10px; } /* CONTENT > Headings, Titles */ #page-title, .meta-title { font-family: var(--ui-font), sans-serif; font-weight: 800; color: #3b3b3b; border-bottom: solid 2px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2); width: fit-content; margin: 0 auto 1.5rem; } #page-title, .meta-title, #breadcrumbs, .pseudocrumbs { text-align: center; } h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6 { font-family: var(--head-font), sans-serif; font-weight: 800; color: #3b3b3b; } h1, h2 { font-weight: 800; } .footnotes-footer .title { font-family: var(--head-font), sans-serif; color: #3b3b3b; font-weight: 800; } /* CONTENT > Rate Module */ #page-content .creditRate { margin: unset; font-family: var(--ui-font); float: unset !important; } #page-content .rate-box-with-credit-button { background-color: #fff; border: solid 1px #bbb; box-shadow: none; border-radius: 0; } #page-content .rate-box-with-credit-button .fa-info { border: none; color: #333; } #page-content .rate-box-with-credit-button .fa-info:hover { background: #333; color: #fff; } .rate-box-with-credit-button .cancel { border: solid 1px #fff; } .page-rate-widget-box { box-shadow: none; border: solid 1px #bbb; margin: unset; margin-bottom: 4px; border-radius: 0; font-family: var(--ui-font); } .page-rate-widget-box .rate-points { background-color: #fff !important; color: #333 !important; border: none !important; border-radius: 0; } .page-rate-widget-box .rateup, .page-rate-widget-box .ratedown { background-color: #fff; border-top: none; border-bottom: none; } .page-rate-widget-box .rateup a, .page-rate-widget-box .ratedown a { background: transparent; color: #333; } .page-rate-widget-box .rateup a:hover, .page-rate-widget-box .ratedown a:hover { background: #333; color: #fff; } .page-rate-widget-box .cancel { background: #fff; border: none; border-radius: 0; display: inline-block; } .page-rate-widget-box .cancel a { color: #333; } .page-rate-widget-box .cancel a:hover { background: #333; color: #fff; border-radius: 0; } #page-content .rate-box-with-credit-button .page-rate-widget-box { border: none; } /* CONTENT > Rate Module > Author Label */ .authorlink-wrapper { --author-top-adjust: 0; --author-bottom-adjust: 0; --author-right-adjust: 0; font-family: var(--ui-font); font-size: var(--base-font-size); } /* CONTENT > Side Box */ .anchor { position: sticky; height: 0; top: 0; } .sidebox { padding: .14rem; margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 8px; width: calc((100vw - 870px)/2); max-height: calc(100vh - 18rem); position: absolute; top: 0; left: 103.5%; z-index: 5; overflow: auto; box-sizing: border-box; } @media (max-width: 1290px) { .sidebox { display: none; visibility: hidden; } } /* CONTENT > Image Block */ .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { background-color: #f4f4f4; color: #3b3b3b; border: solid 2px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1); margin-top: 10px; box-sizing: border-box; border-radius: 5px; } .scp-image-block { border: none; box-shadow: none; } .scp-image-block img { border: solid 2px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1); box-sizing: border-box; } .imagediv { float: right; margin: 15px } @media (max-width: 540px) { .imagediv { float: unset; text-align: center; margin: 1.3rem auto 1.3rem auto; } } @media only screen and (max-width: 600px) { .scp-image-block.block-right { float: none; margin: 10px auto; } } /* CONTENT > Tables Base */ #page-content tr th { padding: 6px; border: 2px solid rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2); } #page-content tr td { padding: 12px; border: 2px solid #bfbfbf; line-height: 1.4; } #page-content .sidebox tr td, #page-content .sidebox tr th { padding: 0.35em; } /* CONTENT > Tables Customization (Table Coloring System) */ /* CONTENT > Tables Customization (Table Coloring System) > Table Headings, Image Captions */ #page-content .table1 tr th, #page-content .table1 .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { background-color: #E0FFD4; } #page-content .table2 tr th, #page-content .table2 .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { background-color: #D8ECF4; } #page-content .table3 tr th, #page-content .table3 .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { background-color: #FDF6D7; } #page-content .table4 tr th, #page-content .table4 .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { background-color: #FFDFCD; } #page-content .table5 tr th, #page-content .table5 .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { background-color: #FFCFCF; } #page-content .table6 tr th, #page-content .table6 .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { background-color: rgba(146, 0, 255, 0.2); } .tableb .wiki-content-table { border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 2px; } /* CONTENT > Tables Customization (Table Coloring System) > Other Colored Divs */ .table1 .blockquote, .table1 div.blockquote, .table1 blockquote, .table1 .jotting, .table1 .notation, .table1 .modal, .table1 .paper, .blockquote.table1, div.blockquote.table1, .jotting.table1, .notation.table1, .modal.table1, .paper.table1 { background: rgb(224, 255, 212); } .table2 .blockquote, .table2 div.blockquote, .table2 blockquote, .table2 .jotting, .table2 .notation, .table2 .modal, .table2 .paper, .blockquote.table2, div.blockquote.table2, .jotting.table2, .notation.table2, .modal.table2, .paper.table2 { background: rgb(226, 244, 255); } .table3 .blockquote, .table3 div.blockquote, .table3 blockquote, .table3 .jotting, .table3 .notation, .table3 .modal, .table3 .paper, .blockquote.table3, div.blockquote.table3, .jotting.table3, .notation.table3, .modal.table3, .paper.table3 { background: rgb(255, 245, 189); } .table4 .blockquote, .table4 div.blockquote, .table4 blockquote, .table4 .jotting, .table4 .notation, .table4 .modal, .table4 .paper, .blockquote.table4, div.blockquote.table4, .jotting.table4, .notation.table4, .modal.table4, .paper.table4 { background: rgb(255, 223, 205); } .table5 .blockquote, .table5 div.blockquote, .table5 blockquote, .table5 .jotting, .table5 .notation, .table5 .modal, .table5 .paper, .blockquote.table5, div.blockquote.table5, .jotting.table5, .notation.table5, .modal.table5, .paper.table5 { background: rgb(255, 207, 207); } .table6 .blockquote, .table6 div.blockquote, .table6 blockquote, .table6 .jotting, .table6 .notation, .table6 .modal, .table6 .paper, .blockquote.table6, div.blockquote.table6, .jotting.table6, .notation.table6, .modal.table6, .paper.table6 { background: rgb(255, 218, 255); } /* CONTENT > Tabs Base */ .yui-navset .yui-nav a, .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-nav a { background-color: inherit; background-image: inherit } .yui-navset .yui-nav a:hover, .yui-navset .yui-nav a:focus { background: inherit; text-decoration: inherit } .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a, .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a:focus, .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a:hover { color: inherit; background: inherit } .yui-navset .yui-nav, .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-nav { border-color: inherit } .yui-navset li { line-height: inherit } /* CONTENT > Tabs Customization */ .yui-navset .yui-nav, .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-nav { display: flex; flex-wrap: wrap; width: calc(100% - .125rem); margin: 0 auto; border-color: #333333; box-shadow: none; } .yui-navset .yui-nav a, /* ---- Link Modifier ---- */ .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-nav a { color: #333333; /* ---- Tab Background Colour | [UNSELECTED] ---- */ background-color: #efefef; border: unset; box-shadow: none; box-shadow: none; } .yui-navset .yui-nav a:hover, .yui-navset .yui-nav a:focus { color: #ffffff; /* ---- Tab Background Colour | [HOVER] ---- */ background-color: #333333; } .yui-navset .yui-nav li, /* ---- Listitem Modifier ---- */ .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-nav li { position: relative; display: flex; flex-grow: 2; max-width: 100%; margin: 0; padding: 0; color: #ffffff; background-color: #ffffff; border-color: transparent; box-shadow: none; } .yui-navset .yui-nav li a, .yui-navset-top .yui-nav li a, .yui-navset-bottom .yui-nav li a { display: flex; align-items: center; justify-content: center; width: 100%; } .yui-navset .yui-nav li em { border: unset; } .yui-navset .yui-nav a em, .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-nav a em { padding: .35em .75em; text-overflow: ellipsis; overflow: hidden; white-space: nowrap; } .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected, /* ---- Selection Modifier ---- */ .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-nav .selected { flex-grow: 2; margin: 0; padding: 0; /* ---- Tab Background Colour | [SELECTED] ---- */ background-color: #333333; } .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a, .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a em { border: none; } .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a { width: 100%; color: #ffffff; } .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a:focus, .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a:active { color: #ffffff; background-color: #333333; } .yui-navset .yui-content { background-color: #ffffff; box-shadow: none; } .yui-navset .yui-content, .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-content { padding: .5em; border: 1px solid #333; box-sizing: border-box; } /* CONTENT > WORDS NO BROKEY. CROQ HAS SPOKEY. and other things */ span, a { word-break: normal !important } .avatar-hover { display: none !important; } #main-content .page-tags span { max-width: 100%; } /* CONTENT > Dustjacket Assets */ .fancyhr hr { border-top: 2vw solid transparent; background-color: rgba(var(--bright-accent), 0); height: 0; box-sizing: border-box; border-image-source: url('https://wanderers-library.wikidot.com/local--files/component:dustjacket-theme/wl_hr.png'); border-image-repeat: round round; background: none; border-image-slice: 80 500 80 500 fill; border-image-width: 10em 80em 10em 80em; } .fancyborder { box-sizing: border-box; border: 2vw solid rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.5); border-image: url('https://wanderers-library.wikidot.com/local--files/component:dustjacket-theme/wl_border.png') 600 round; border-image-width: 6; padding: 2vw; } /* CONTENT > Collapsibles */ #page-content a.collapsible-block-link:hover { text-decoration: underline; color: var(--link-txt-color); } #page-content a.collapsible-block-link:not(.licensebox a.collapsible-block-link, .info-container a.collapsible-block-link, .default-col a.collapsible-block-link) { text-decoration: none; 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} } @media (max-width: 700px) { #header h2::before { font-size: 1.2em; margin-top: 0.3rem; } #top-bar, #top-bar a { top: 8.8rem; font-size: 90%; } } @media (max-width: 620px) { #header h2::before { font-size: 1em; margin-top: 0.15rem; } #top-bar, #top-bar a { top: 8.3rem; font-size: 90%; } div#header { height: 123px; } } @media (max-width: 520px) { #header h2::before { line-height: 16px; margin-top: 0.5rem; } #top-bar, #top-bar a { top: 9.3rem; } div#header { height: 145px; } } close Info X VNP-8050: One to Rule Them All By:Damian Thorne, Diogene_s, UNCGriffin and WarriorofChaos UNCGriffin's Author Page Foreword: Vanguard was alerted to an unregulated spatial anomaly in a trailer park near Mercer, Wisconsin, reported to be centered around the trailer of one John Alger. Mobile Task Force Epsilon-6 (“Village Idiots”), alongside Thaumatologists Dr. Katherine Sinclair and Vera Keay1, were dispatched to ascertain the nature of the anomaly. <View is from the dashcam of MTF-Ε-6’s transport vehicle. Up ahead, a large, multi-storied home can be seen, dwarfing the trailers in the rest of the park. The perimeter of the house is clear; its lawn dominates the lot, carving out a perfect green circle which leaves little room for the trailers.> <The transport arrives at the gate to the household. A man, presumably John Alger, is mowing the lawn. A woman is absentmindedly swinging a broom back and forth on the porch, a vacant smile on her face. A child can be seen from the window, nose pressed up against the glass, eyes fixed on Alger.> <The view changes to Dr. Sinclair’s body camera as she exits the van with Keay in tow. She stumbles.> Dr. Sinclair: Whoa. Keay: You alright? Dr. Sinclair: Nope. It's like something's got me by the heart. Keay: Think it's the anomaly? Dr. Sinclair: Got to be. Only one way to know for sure, though. <Dr. Sinclair approaches the gate. Upon stepping on the lawn, the grass becomes noticeably greener within its perimeter, the clouds seem fluffier, the sky more blue.> Dr. Sinclair: Good morning, Mr. Alger! May we have a moment of your time? <Dr. Sinclair waves to the man, who turns off the lawnmower and begins to walk towards the gate. He greets Sinclair with a friendly smile.> John Alger: Good morning, missy! How are you… <Alger's eyes wander to the van, and the Vanguard logo on its side. For a moment, his smile falters. Then, resuming his smile, he continues.> John Alger: …how are you doing? Dr. Sinclair: I'm alright, yourself? <Alger gives a belly laugh.> John Alger: Just peachy, miss. Now, what can I do for you today? <As Alger laughs, Keay glances at the woman on the porch. Alger looks behind him, as if trying to see what's wrong.> Dr. Sinclair: Mind if we take this inside? <Alger's smile falters.> Alger: Well. Well, I, uh… <Alger looks down. He scratches his nose, considering his feet.> Alger: …are you sure we can't handle this out here? Dr. Sinclair: Well, sure- Keay: We would really rather take this inside. <Alger looks between the two, his mouth hanging open. Then, he sighs, throwing up his hands. A large gold ring is visible on his right.> Alger: Well, sure. Not like I can stop you. <Alger opens the gate and leads the two across the lawn. As they approach the porch, Sinclair speaks.> Dr. Sinclair: Hello, Mrs. Alger! We're with Vanguard, we've just got a couple of questions for you and your husband. <Dr. Sinclair shows Mrs. Alger her badge as Mr. Alger unlocks the door. Mrs. Alger continues to sweep the porch, unresponsive.> Dr. Sinclair: Hello? Anyone in there? <Mr. Alger watches the development as he opens the front door. He discreetly flicks his finger, the one with the ring. Keay glances at him as he does so, but is interrupted by Mrs. Alger.> Mrs. Alger: Oh, hi! <Mrs. Alger looks up from her work with a smile.> Mrs. Alger: I can't believe it! We finally have some visitors! We haven't had any since, well, since we got married! <Finished with the door, Mr. Alger walks over to share an embrace and a kiss with his wife.> Mrs. Alger: Well, make yourselves at home, dears. I'll fix something up real quick! <Mrs. Alger shuffles into the now-open door, Mr. Alger following wordlessly behind.> Keay: Does anyone even talk like that anymore? She sounds like she was first recorded when VHS was still a thing. And that lilt. Dr. Sinclair: You'd be surprised. There are people who choose to live like… that. Keay: Yeah, if they're asleep. And ol' Johnny here's supposed to be divorced. No official record of remarriage, and he doesn't seem the live-in girlfriend type. Where'd the kid even- Mr. Alger (from inside): What are you two yakking about? Keay: Nothing! Mr. Alger: Well, come on in! Let's get this over with. <Keay and Dr. Sinclair cross the threshold into the foyer.> Keay: Whoa. <The two are confronted with a tall but cramped foyer. Two straight, carpeted stairways, each uncomfortably narrow, lead up to a balcony from which five single doors diverge. The main hallway, below the balcony, is segmented by five windowed doors for no apparent reason. One of these doors is open. Paintings, clocks, and small shelves for trophies are haphazardly scattered all over the walls: Some are even blocking the doors.> <The floor is a mosaic of rugs in different patterns and shades of red, as if this home's designer had thrown whatever onto the ground to cover as much square footage in as little time and money as possible. The wall behind is adorned with the only two windows in the whole room, and beside them, the child. He is quiet: The synchronized ticking of the many mechanical clocks is the only sound.> <Dr. Sinclair stumbles to the nearest wall to support herself.> Keay: Hey, you alright? Dr. Sinclair: Whatever it is, it's sinking deeper. It's like the Impasse, but… not. Like someone's sucking the magic out of me with a straw. Keay: Yeah, I can feel it too. Here. <Keay helps her partner up. The child remains still.> Mr. Alger (from behind the five doors): Can you quit your lollygaggin'?! Dr. Sinclair: Coming! <Keay and Dr. Sinclair proceed through the five doors into another hallway, decorated with the same family portrait in different frames and on different backgrounds. Short corridors leading to dead ends branch out around them. Inside the hallway is an impatient Mr. Alger, already leading them into a study at the far end. The mages follow him in, and he shuts the door before facing them with a smile.> Mr. Alger: I'm sorry for my outburst just now. I really shouldn't treat a guest like that. <Mr. Alger sits on a plush chair behind an ornate wooden desk, and beckons the agents to a pair of wooden seats on the other end of the desk. The agents sit down.> Dr. Sinclair: Do you know why we're here, Mr. Alger? Mr. Alger: No, I can't imagine why. <Keay places a picture onto the desk.> Keay: This is what the average trailer park looks like. And this- <Keay takes out a satellite photo of Mr. Alger's house.> Keay: Is what your trailer park looks like. Notice the house. Dr. Sinclair: One of those immersive map vans was taking pictures here when they noticed that there was a house here that, not too long ago, simply wasn't there. Mr. Alger: Can't imagine it's hard to miss, missy! <Mr. Alger laughs.> Mr. Alger: Everyone's surprised by the fruits of my labor. Keay: Yeah, money makes the world go 'round. It can even make houses spring up like duckweed! <Dr. Sinclair gives her partner a significant stare.> Mr. Alger: Sure was a quick renov job, huh? Keay: Yeah. Impossibly quick. Some would say… <Keay leans in.> Keay: …anomalously so. Dr. Sinclair: Vera, please. Quit it with the implications. Keay: Quit it? Have you seen what he's done to- Dr. Sinclair: Mr. Alger, we're just here to find out what we can about the appearance of this household to see if there's anything useful to our mission of normalization. Mr. Alger: Well, I'm sorry to say, there's nothing "anomalous" about it! Just worked hard at my job, saved some money… uh… well, maybe the construction firm was anomalous, I'd be the last to know. All I know is, they promised a quick job, and there's nothing anomalous about keepin' your promises! <Mr. Alger gives a belly laugh.> Keay: What's the name of the firm? <Mr. Alger stops laughing.> Mr. Alger: …I can't remember, you know? Not like it mattered- Keay: Do you have any proof of purchase? <Mr. Alger freezes.> Mr. Alger: What part of these financial minutiae is so interestin' to you two ladies, anyway? Dr. Sinclair: Mr. Alger. We just want to know- Mr. Alger: You know what? <As he speaks, Mrs. Alger enters the room carrying a tray of mini-sandwiches, which she deposits on the desk. Her movements are stiff and absentminded.> Mr. Alger: This is my property. Second Amendment. Look it up. No illegal search and seizure, and that includes you extrajudicial freaks. <Mr. Alger points an accusatory finger at the Vanguard pin on Keay's lapel.> Mr. Alger: You sure did a good job keepin' your little witch's kitchens on the down low. Even got our finest American institutions in on it. But someone picks up a few stray utensils to make some freedom pie? You roll up with your black vans and rip it all away. Dr. Sinclair: We aren't here to take- Mr. Alger: Of COURSE you aren't here to take my home! You're just here to "investigate," which'll turn into "confiscate," and then put me in with all the lazy criminals! For what? Workin' my ass off for years on end for a filthy trailer and an alimony debt? Never complaining? Finally getting what I deserve? <Mr. Alger's face reddens. The gemstone on his ring glows a faint red as well.> Mr. Alger: I don't know what country your circus act comes from, but this is American soil. And American values will be respected here, whatever those Demo-rats in Congress say. So: Stay out of my lane, and I'll stay outta yours. You get the deal? Dr. Sinclair: …fine, as long as you tell us what your lane is- Keay: And where that woman's lane is. Can you tell us that? <Mr. Alger fumes. He flicks his hand, and a shotgun manifests in it. The ring on his finger begins to glow gold.> Mr. Alger: I'm gonna have to ask you to leave. <Dr. Sinclair throws her hands up to form a barrier, but clutches her chest. Faint sparks shoot out of her hands. Keay moves to strike first — but her own spell fails as well. Mr. Alger fires a glowing white projectile that sparks like a firework. It strikes Keay in the chest and sends her flying through the wall to an empty room with a window but no doors.> Dr. Sinclair: Vera! <Another firework strikes Dr. Sinclair, sending her flying as far as Keay. Alger steps through the hole to reload his shotgun, and the wall begins to reform behind him.> Keay: Dammit! Dr. Sinclair: My barrier isn't working! <As Alger walks up to them, Sinclair starts muttering in Latin. A flame grows out from her left hand, and she blasts Alger with it. He recoils, but seems unharmed.> Keay: Retreat and regroup! <Keay pushes herself off the ground and jumps out of the way of the next blast — towards her left, towards the window. Sinclair sprints back to the foyer, narrowly avoiding another strange projectile as she escapes the building. Outside, agents of Mobile Task Force Epsilon-6 "Village Idiots") pour out of the transport, approaching the household. The mages reconvene with them, out of breath.> <The roar of an engine is heard from behind the building. A truck rolls into view, with Alger in the driving seat and his wife sitting next to him. Alger aims the shotgun at the Task Force through the window of the door. When he pulls the trigger, a shockwave sends the Vanguard agents sprawling on the lawn. The truck speeds out of view.> Afterword: All Vanguard personnel hit by the shockwave remained paralyzed until John Alger was more than 5 miles away. The United States Census Office lists Alger's status as single, with no children. ITEM №: VNP-8050 VNP-8050, image produced by Vanguard clairvoyants. Specification: VNP-8050 is a golden ring with a black gemstone attached to it. It is currently in the possession of John Alger, who wears it on the middle finger of his right hand. The origin and intended use of VNP-8050 are currently unknown. Readings made in the field indicate that Hume and EVE levels fluctuate greatly around Alger, which is likely caused by the object. This has resulted in reality restructurings near Mercer, Wisconsin, Alger's current place of residence. Normalization Protocols: VNP-8050 is to be secured as soon as possible. Details regarding the danger a wielder of VNP-8050 poses are being distributed to major American news networks alongside all small news outlets operating in Wisconsin. The next episode of Voice of Vanguard2 will be focused on how the average citizen can protect themselves from VNP-8050's wearer and other unstable reality-bending individuals. Lighthouse receptionists are to be briefed on the object to answer queries from the public. FOREWORD: MTF Epsilon-6 and the two thaumatologists regrouped at the Task Force's transport, where they established video contact with Dr. Dan Daniels, Director of ETTRA3. Dr. Dan: So, will somebody tell me what happened back there? Dr. Sinclair: Mr. Alger is a powerful reality-bender, and also immune to our magic. I engulfed him in flames and he somehow absorbed it. Dr. Dan: Did you have a reason to set him on fire? We aren't supposed to terminate anomalous people, we're supposed to help them. Dr. Sinclair: He did threaten us. And he seems to have kidnapped a couple of people using his abilities. Dr. Dan: I see. So this is like a small reality-bender testing what they can get away with. We get those fairly often. We're still drafting a protocol to deal with this issue, but these naturally occurring reality-benders are pretty easy to manage with a bit of diplomacy and understanding where their limits lie. Keay: I think this looks like an edge case. From what we just saw, his abilities were sourced from some kind of enchanted ring he was wearing. Dr. Dan: A ring? Seriously? Keay: Yeah, he didn’t seem like the type of guy who would wear jewelry, but he had this big golden ring on his middle finger. And every time we did something, it glowed and then immediately nullified our spells. Dr. Dan sighs. Dr. Dan: So, you’re telling me he had a ring that made him both unaffected by magic and gave him insane Ontokinesis? Keay: Yes. Sinclair: Does that sound like something on the database, Mr. Know-it-all? <Dr. Dan leans on the desk with one hand and uses the other to knock on his head.> Dr. Dan: Come on, come on, come on… Nope. Doesn’t ring a bell. That adds a level of unpredictability to this. We normally know how type-greens work. But this is new. And I don't like it. E-1: What is the course of action? Dr. Dan: Step one: (Away from the microphone) Get me another cup, now! Step two: Put this under ETTRA jurisdiction ASAP. Step three: We bring PANOPTICON4 back online to track this guy. Step four: we catch him and his magic ring. Step five: We figure out how the object works and we give the guy a very stern look and tell him to not pull a stunt like this one ever again. Dr. Sinclair: You make it seem easy. Dr. Dan: It is easy! Our surveillance systems are already scanning every road in a hundred mile radius. We'll have him in no time. Keay: Wait, I thought you - we weren't doing this authoritarian bullshit anymore. Dr. Sinclair: That's a discussion for later. Right now we need to get that ring before it hurts anyone else. Keay: This isn't what I signed up for. Dr. Dan: Wait a second. The results are already coming in. (unintelligible voices are heard from Dr. Dan’s side of the call) What? Okay. This is bad. From what PANOPTICON tells us, he’s now on Interstate 39, going down towards Milwaukee. Dr. Sinclair: What did you sign up for? Our goals are to protect people from the anomalous and the anomalous from people. No matter how you shake it out, this man is a danger to everyone around him. I'm sorry, but in this case, we're going to have to do some authoritarian bullshit. Because otherwise, people are going to get hurt. (to E-2) Come on, let's go. We have to catch him. Dr Dan: That’s the thing, you can’t do that. He’s moving at an obscenely high speed, we're barely able to keep track of him as is. Thankfully the other cars on the road are moving away from his path, so there haven't been any accidents. Yet. Dr. Sinclair: So what do we do? Dr. Dan: We're trying to scramble our resources in Milwaukee to stop him. You can try to get there, but I highly doubt that you’ll arrive in time. Wait- Things just got more complicated. I'm sending you the feed. (silence on recording) Dr. Dan: I'm gonna need more coffee. Foreword: The following footage was captured by security cameras of a gas station on Interstate 39. It was sent by ETTRA to MTF-E-6 as they began to follow Alger's trail. <A silver car stands at the station, its driver glancing at the console while it refuels. A young teen, presumably his child, is crouched on the floor a few meters away, staring into their smartphone.> <A truck veers into the gas station at high speed, careening into the car. The resulting explosion sends burning metal flying in every direction, grievously wounding the car's driver. For an instant, the truck appears unharmed, until a ring glowing gold bursts through the windshield. It falls next to the teen, who picks it up and dons it, watching their father in horror.> Teen: You bastard! How dare you?! <Lightning flashes in the sky. The youth's hair stands up on end as it turns a bright yellow. An aura of yellow energy appears around them, the ring shining brighter still. John Alger stumbles out of the truck, seemingly unharmed.> Alger: What- What's going on? Where am I? Teen: You'll pay! <The teen lunges at Alger, closing the gap between the two in an instant. They drive their fist into the man's abdomen, knocking his body into the truck. Alger slumps forewords before falling on the floor. They stare at their hands, flexing their fingers.> Teen: Holy cow. Closing Statement: The youth, later identified as fourteen year-old Wisconsin resident Riley O'Connor, proceeded to take their wounded father in their arms and fly towards the nearest hospital. As he began to undergo intensive care, they took flight again and left the building. Sinclair: Well, that's just peachy. Guess we're gonna have to fire up PANOPTICON again. Keay: Yeah, you know, casually using a global surveillance system to find a minor. Does that sound okay to you? Moral? Good? Sinclair: 'Moral' and 'good' aren't in our motto. Sheltering, Normalizing and Informing are! Listen, I was Hand too once, I understand- Keay: Ah, pulling the turncoat card. Convincing. Sinclair: Look Vera, we need to find this kid so we can keep them from hurting someone else or themselves. If you've got a better way to do that than what we have, you're welcome to propose it to the Board. But right now I'm asking you to postpone the idealist drama so we can do our jobs! Keay: This 'idealist drama' is about the nature of this goddamned organization! If you're going to keep using Foundation leftovers, you're just going to be Jailors in green. <Silence on recording as Sinclair gives the other woman a hard look.> Keay: Fine, I'll write to the bloody Board. But if they bury me in paperwork, I'm going to show the whole world Big Brother Vanguard that's been watching them ever since they were born. Sinclair: Good luck. <Short pause.> Sinclair: I'm sorry. I don't like the system either, believe me. Can you please just trust me? Keay: I'll try. On the order of Dr. Dan, PANOPTICON was put to work to locate Riley O'Connor. They were tracked flying across the United States until reaching New York, from where they left towards Europe. They were seen cutting through clouds above London, standing on top of the Eiffel Tower, and hovering above the Colosseum of Rome. Riley O'Connor portrayed on CNN Approximately four hours following their initial takeoff, they were detected touching down at their home address in Solon Springs, Wisconsin. As they were already nearby, MTF-E-6 and the two thaumatologists were dispatched to retrieve the artifact. Foreword: Following these events, Watchtower-09, the main headquarters for ETTRA received a call from █████████5 through an exclusive channel. This call was forwarded to Dr. Dan and Dr. Moose. Dr. Dan: We're in the middle of something, what do you want? █████████: I saw the news and the new warnings you are putting out. Dr. Dan: Yes, and? █████████: I figured you might need some assistance. Dr. Moose: And how can you help? You're officially retired from this business. █████████: Well, do you know what that ring is? Do you know what it does? What danger it poses? Dr. Moose: I have my theories. But I don’t know how accurate they are. █████████: What about you, egghead? Do you know what this is? Dr. Dan: Shut up. <silence on recording> Dr. Dan: Ok. I concede. No, I don’t have a fucking idea about what this is. It isn’t on the database, it isn’t on any of the anomalous items logs, and it isn’t on the tons of other random documents I memorized when I was in prison. █████████: (lets out a chuckle) That’s because it was some kind of weird specific Thaumiel clearance. Well beyond both of your pay grades. In fact, most of the Council didn't even know it existed. It was something that we kept between Ten, Eight and myself. Dr. Moose: That seems very serious. I don't like where this is going. █████████: It was. You’ve already seen what it can do. Dr. Dan: Did it have an SCP classification? Just so we know how to deal with it? █████████: Yes. If you look up “SCP-8050” in the common database, it will come up as an empty slot. That’s because we had a couple of special deepwell databases within our neural implants before we removed them when the Council was dissolved. Well, some of us at least. Dr. Dan: God dammit I knew I missed something. █████████: So, if you’re able to retrieve those, the SCP file should be in there. Dr. Moose: I think we have them stored in a locker somewhere. AFTERWORD: The SCP-8050 file was retrieved from the archived Overseer deepwells. It is reproduced below. Item#: SCP-8050 Level5 Secondary Class: radix Disruption Class: keneq Risk Class: critical link to memo Special Containment Procedures: When not in use, SCP-8050 is to be stored in a secure vault within Site-01. Knowledge and usage of SCP-8050 is to be restricted to O5-6, O5-8 and O5-10. Description: SCP-8050 is a ring cast from an alloy made of gold, beryllium bronze, and a number of unidentified anomalous metals. Embedded in its center is a black, smooth gemstone of what is hypothesized to be condensed crystallized irrilite. Engraved upon the metal surface of SCP-8050 are a set of symbols of alchemical significance, alongside writing in an unknown language. Studies from the Foundation-employed thaumatologists and the Alchemy Department suggest that the exact composition of metals and runes in SCP-8050 creates an alloy that can channel elemental forces into thaumaturgic and ontokinetic outbursts that seem to follow the wishes of the wearer. SCP-8050 displays a mild compulsion effect on its holder to don and use it. Further research regarding the nature and extent of this effect is recommended. ~O5-6 Dr. Dan: Holy shit. Dr. Moose: This sounds familiar. I think I heard some rumors about this thing back when I frequented the Library. █████████: As far as we know it was a powerful artifact from an ancient civilization. But we didn’t care about its origins. We cared about using it. And we used it a lot. Dr. Dan: I still don’t understand what it does, exactly. █████████: It enables you. I’m still not sure how, but I distinctly remember wanting certain things and it helped me achieve them. Let’s say that I needed a concession to get my hands in more military-grade drones, or a new warship. I would just put on the ring, and everyone in the industry would bend to my will, to an extent. Sometimes, I needed to get to a meeting, and the car would just jump to the location. Or I needed to make a call, and a phone would manifest in my hand. Dr. Moose: Alger manifested a shotgun out of thin air. █████████: That tracks. When you have that thing in your hands, you don't have to conform to the rules of the world, the world has to follow your rules. Dr. Dan: And that’s the reason you used the ring? To get stuff? █████████: We used it to will the world into submission. More resources meant more power for the Foundation. And that translated into a firmer grip on the Veil. Dr. Dan: You've gotta be kidding me. Dr. Moose: Let me get this straight, you, who used to bury anyone who even thought of using anomalies in the field in mountains of red tape, you who aren't even supposed to be near anomalies in the first place, knowingly used an artifact you never bothered to fully understand on the daily? What the hell is wrong with you?! █████████: You don’t seem to get it. You feel powerful when you wear that thing. It gets a hold over you, becomes addictive. Eight was obsessed with it; Ten and I had to physically restrain and wrestle it out of their hands more than once. Dr. Dan: So how does such a powerful artifact end in the house of a conspiracy nutjob in Bumfuck Wisconsin? █████████: I actually don’t know. SCP-8050 started losing its effects during the Impasse. Eight got very worried. They were running tests on it daily, until one day they just said that it was "gone". Dr. Moose: And what does that mean? █████████: I didn't give it much thought at the time, either the ring had lost its powers or had crumbled to dust, and regardless we had bigger fish to fry back then. But now it’s back. Maybe it's the same ring. Maybe it's some sort of reincarnation. But I recognized the effects as very similar to what I had experienced. Dr. Moose: Well, thanks for the heads-up, this is honestly vital information. Dr. Dan: That's true. Now go back to your retirement home. █████████: I've done what I can to help you. That ring means bad news. I'm not proud of what we did with it. But watch out - if I could figure it out, you can be damn sure Eight will as well. <The dash cam of the van shows the Task Force's surroundings as they drive through Solon Springs. They pull up to the O'Connor household.> Sinclair: There's that feeling again. Like someone's pulling a needle that's stuck in my chest. Keay: Ever get that feeling of déjà-vu? Sinclair: Did you just- Keay: Yes. Speaking of Overwatch, apparently Dan and Moose just got a call from an old overseer about this ring. Does that mean- Sinclair: This is big, yeah. No new orders yet, but we should be even more careful. No magic if we can help it, and nothing that even resembles violence. Keay: Obviously. Let's go then. <An equipment malfunction causes the feed to black out for several minutes before the connection is reestablished. Keay and Sinclair are interviewing Riley O'Connor in the living room.> Keay: And what do you plan to do with this power? O’Connor: Crimefighting obviously. I’m going to become the world’s first real superhero! Right now I’m planning on how I’ll make my debut- <E-1 speaks in Sinclair and Keay’s earpieces.> E-1: E-1 to Sinclair, multiple units just manifested outside, in front of the porch. Not apportation, some sort of cloaking tech by the looks of things. <O’Connor stops mid-sentence, likely by the change in the mages’ expressions. > O’Connor: What? E-1: Humanoid, armed, I count twelve. Look like MTF agents but there’s no insignia. Could be GOC or Insurgency. Permission to engage? Sinclair: Not yet. Riley, do you have a back door? O’Connor: Yeah. What’s going on? <Sinclair stands up. Keay follows her example.> Sinclair: We need to leave now. O’Connor: Not happening. Sinclair: Some bad and dangerous people just showed up- <O’Connor stands up as well.> O’Connor: Dangerous for you maybe. I'll take 'em out no problem. Sinclair: Riley- <They run towards the door, the ring beginning to glow with golden light. Their hair flickers from black to bright yellow before settling on the latter, standing up in large spikes. Both mages fall to their knees, gasping for breath.> Keay: We’re not very good at this house visit thing, are we? <O’Connor opens the door and steps outside, out of the camera’s view. Sinclair puts her head in her hands.> Sinclair: God damn it. <Feed shifts to the MTF transport’s dash cam. Riley O’Connor is seen exiting the house, an aura of yellow energy around them. They stare out at the half-circle of agents that surround the porch. One of them, armed only with a pistol on their hip, steps forward while the rest train their assault rifles on the teen.> Unknown: Hello child. You have something that belongs to me. I’d like you to return it. O’Connor: I’d like to see you try and take it, mister… Unknown: You can call me Eight. Fire! <O'Connor disappears just as the agents open fire, riddling the front porch with holes. They reappear midair behind one of the soldiers, delivering a roundhouse kick to the head that sends them careening into the ground. Dr. Sinclair speaks through E-1's earpiece.> Sinclair: Engage! Don't let anything happen to that kid! <O'Connor continues to battle the unknown militants, their arms becoming a blur as they deflect a rush of bullets. The MTF agents exit the van and open fire on the attackers, forcing a number to leap for cover. Amidst the chaos, 'Eight', presumed O5-8, approaches O'Connor calmly. > O5-8: Come child, I hope you're not afraid of a real challenge. <The teen enters a defensive stance, their golden aura growing in size and brightness. The ring blazes with light like a tiny sun on their finger.> O'Connor: Come at me, villain! <The former Overseer rushes forward, closing the distance between them in an instant. O'Connor gasps as O5-8's fist connects with their jaw. They stagger for a split second, aura flickering, before the O5 grabs their arm and violently yanks the ring off their finger.> O5-8: Thank you. Was that really so difficult? <O'Connor's hair turns brown, and they collapse on the grass. Camera feed switches to Vera Keay's body camera, which shows the two mages on the floor inside the house. She peeks through the broken window. Most of the hostile agents appear incapacitated, but O5-8 is seen donning VNP-8050.> Keay: Oh no. That fucker took the ring. Sinclair: You're kidding me, there's no way they beat an actual anime prota- <Feed transitions to E-1's body camera. She is aiming her weapon at O5-8, and pulls the trigger. Immediately a dozen agents of MTF-A1 ("Red Right Hand") manifest in a circle around the overseer, one of them taking the shots to the chest and falling over. The rest attack the Vanguard agents, easily overwhelming them. E-3 and E-5 are incapacitated as the rest of the Task Force dives behind the van.> <The roar of helicopter blades erupts from above them, drowning out the audio. Feed returns to Keay's body camera. She stands at the doorway, watching as O5-8 and their minions board the helicopter. Sinclair's voice calls out from behind her but she ignores it, whispering words of power while weaving her hands in intricate patterns.> <Giant vines burst from the earth, grasping for the helicopter as it begins to take flight. It flashes suddenly with golden light, and the vines wither away to dust. Keay falls on her back and lies motionless. The camera shows the vehicle rising to the sky before flying out of sight.> Following these events, the helicopter disappeared from Solon Springs without a trace. Vanguard began a more aggressive campaign to warn the public of VNP-8050's status. To this end, the Vanguard Outreach Team organized three press conferences to detail the current ways Vanguard is dealing with the ongoing situation. Example of a VNP-8050 information poster. Furthermore, informational posters were put up in all major population centers in Wisconsin and surrounding states alongside all Vanguard Lighthouses. Additionally, descriptions and images of the individual currently identified as O5-8 were distributed among law enforcement. Multiple public posts on social media were made to attempt to explain the ongoing situation. No developments related to VNP-8050 were made apparent during the next 36 hours. Related Incident Report: On 9/13/22, at 19:45 a group of armored vans entered Yellowstone National Park, moving directly towards Watchtower-θ6. National Park Service rangers confronted the incursion, but were unprepared to meet the force of the aggressors. They believed that some of the weapons used by the group were anomalous in nature and contacted Watchtower-θ for assistance. For unknown reasons, Watchtower-θ Command did not respond, nor did they contact Vanguard at large. According to the National Park Service, the armed forces arrived at Watchtower-θ at 21:05. Security personnel offered minimal resistance, and the facility fell into enemy hands in minutes. Later, at 22:12, a military helicopter arrived onsite, delivering an unknown number of personnel. At 22:15 the National Park Service contacted both a Vanguard outreach team member and a GOC representative from outside the jurisdiction of the Park to ask for assistance or guidance. Vanguard Outreach immediately forwarded the information to ETTRA, and asked that the Service await further instructions. FOREWORD: Dr. Dan called for an emergency Board meeting at Watchtower-09. <Dr. Dan stands at the head of a round table, joined by various members of the Vanguard Board. Behind him is a wide whiteboard, and he holds a sheaf of papers in his hands.> Dr. Dan: Hello, everyone, I'm glad most of you could make it despite having such short notice. I have very bad news. Something big is happening in Yellowstone; Watchtower-θ has fallen into an unknown hostile group's hands. Dr. Moose: Do we know if it’s related to the ring business? <Dan tosses the papers on the table.> Dr. Dan: Well, the ring disappears in O'Connor’s house, taken by some Alpha-one grunts and one former O5. Now a heavily armored band of merry men waltzes right into a previously black-ops Foundation Site. Doesn't sound like much of a coincidence to me. Dr. Light: But what are they looking for in there? It’s been on a downsizing trend since an incident back in 2020. There’s nothing interesting in there anymore. Dr. Moose: Maybe it’s because of strategic value? It’s a big site, even if it’s mostly abandoned. And in a fairly central location of the country. Even facilities like these could be useful for all manner of hostile GoIs. Ms. Harada: Maybe the personnel stationed there are sympathetic to the old regime? Maybe the director was in kahoots with these miscreants. Dr. Light: Who? Director Avery? He can be standoffish and uncooperative, sometimes, but I highly doubt that he’s a traitor. Dr. Moose: Traitor to who? He could hold true to the old ideals and think we are the traitors. Alison Chao: So, what else could there be in Watchtower-θ that would be important to a magic-ring-wielding-former autocrat? <Dr. Moose pickes up the files from the table, rifling through them until she finds the Watchtower's facility dossier.> Dr. Moose: Ok, so it used to house a hundred nondescript anomalies. Around fifty of them were neutralized by the Impasse. Immediately after that, normalization protocols were drafted for the remaining ones. Thirty-four of them were released to the public, twelve were sent elsewhere, and the remaining ones are still on-site for security concerns. Dr. Dan: Someone please remind me then why we're still keeping this thing around? Dr. Light: Well it was for monitoring… Oh shit. <Dir. Light and Dr. Dan share a knowing look> Dr. Moose: What? Dr. Light: Well.. Under dash-θ, there was an even bigger facility that was lost in a reality restructuring event at some point. In its place, we found a thing called “The Thorn”. I had to deal with it back in 2020, with Alpha-9. Alison Chao: "The Thorn"? Dr. Light: Some kind of reality-altering phenomenon. Poorly understood. Pending an entry in the database. Possibly neutralized. But, as far as I know, Yellowstone still has an army of SRAs to keep it in check. Alison Chao: And just so we're clear. You think that they would be using VNP-8050 - God that's a mouthful - to rewrite reality to suit them? Dr. Light: Yes. <Silence on recording> Alison Chao: And you didn't think to tell us anything about this? Dr. Light: For all intents and purposes, it was dead. And we've had bigger fish to fry since then. <Ms. Harada chuckles> Ms. Harada: So, what do we do? Dr. Dan: First, we need to know what's happening in there. Right now. I want a live feed of Watchtower-θ. See if we can grab some data from whatever systems we still have access to in the facility. And then, fire up PANOPTICON and keep track of everything that moves in there. If anything happens around the location, we will be the first ones to know. Dr. Dan: So that covers the outside. Do we have a way of looking inside? Aklerep: Yes. I have one. I think. I've checked and Watchtower-θ dropped off from VG.net the moment O5-8 took control of the facility. But there's still a way between that fortress's firewalls for me and other members of the Compilation Layer to sneak in and keep tabs on what's happening. Dr. Dan: Great! What are you waiting for? Aklerep: A greenlight from the rest of the Board, I suppose. Dr. Dan: Then you have it, unless there's any objections. Aklerep: I'll put my people on this. Dr. Moose: What else can we do? Dr. Dan: Not much, I think. We could try to Hammer them Down, but with that ring, O5-8 was able to take over an entire site. Sending in a heavily armed Task Force could mean losing military assets we can't afford to lose. It pains me to say this, but we'll have to wait until we get more intel. Dr. Light: We should warn some of our forces in the general area, and keep them on high alert in regards to anything that O5-8 might want to try. Also, the other members of the Board need to be briefed on the situation immediately. Ms. Harada: We need to evacuate civilians from the park, too. I'll contact the Park Service and get on with that. Alison Chao: And we should disseminate as much information as possible, ASAP. The public needs to be aware of the danger these people pose, and they should know that we're doing our best to deal with it. Dr. Light: That's true. As for the rest, I don't think we can do anything else except sit and wait. <Dr. Dan lets out a long and drawn-out sigh. He sits down in his chair.> Dr. Dan: I hate twiddling my thumbs. Alison Chao: I'm going into the Library. I want to learn more about the ring, and this "Thorn". Dr. Moose: I'm going with you. Dr. Dan: I'm gonna keep monitoring the status of Watchtower-θ, and get Sinclair and Keay in here. Director Light, I will need your assistance as the only person here who has been onsite. I consider this meeting ended, we'll reconvene when we have more information, and more people. AFTERWORD: The Board dispersed to perform their various duties. The Compilation Layer successfully accessed the Watchtower-θ without detection and began to transmit information directly to ETTRA headquarters. The infiltration of Watchtower-θ by ten members of the Compilation Layer yielded the following information: O5-8 was the only O5 on site, with every other staff member seemingly under their complete control. They had focused all their attention on the lowest levels of the facility, looking for an entrance to “The Thorn”. On the 14th, at 06:59 (corroborated by PANOPTICON surveillance), a GOC heavy-strike team entered Yellowstone and attempted to breach the facility. At 07:12, O5-8 traveled to the location of the strike team, just outside one of the secondary entrances to the Watchtower. O5-8 engaged in conversation with the GOC Captain. The situation quickly devolved into violence, as the GOC agents wished to take VNP-8050, while O5-8 took on a defensive stand. At 07:21, a brief firefight broke out, with only one of the GOC agents surviving, teleporting away through unknown means. Between 07:22 and 07:41 O5-8 examined the wreckage of the fight. Then looked directly at a camera, where Aklerep is transmitting from. O5-8 returned to the facility, ordering the entire intranet system of Watchtower-θ to be scrubbed. The Compilation Layer members were forced to exfiltrate out to the world-wide-web. Between 08:30 and 12:45 nine members of the Compilation Layer arrived at Cypher City. The last member to arrive, 01001101-00001010, informed that it had been caught, but had been allowed to leave if it transmitted a message back to Vanguard. <O5-8 stands over the wreckage of the fight between them and the Coalition strike team. The camera focuses on them as they stare into the lens.> O5-8: This is a message to Vanguard, their puny friends in the GOC, and the rest of the world. I am O5-8, the last of the O5 Council who still seems to care about Securing, Containing and Protecting. My life’s purpose was to keep the mundane and the anomalous worlds separated. But you had to tear it all down. Now, I, alone, intend to put the world back in its rightful place. <The camera zooms out, showing the entire scene. O5-8 is in one of the outer chambers of Watchtower-θ. Debris litters the floor, alongside burnt corpses in GOC attire.> O5-8: Before we went on different ways, Ten told me about this facility. And what it stored. You see, before this madness, under this very volcano, the Foundation had one of its biggest facilities, capable of bringing the world back from the worst of catastrophes. But then it disappeared. And what remained was a Thorn wedged in reality. Still pulsating with potential. Still eager to remake the world. <O5-8 lifts their hand. The camera focuses on VNP-8050 as it glows on their index finger.> O5-8: See this precious little thing? This is what gives me my power. This is what will help me in achieving my sacred mission. I still haven’t found the Thorn. But I'm close. And with this ring, SCP-8050, I'm going to bend it to my will. No one can stop me now. Not the Hand, not the Coalition, and certainly not this pathetic thing you call Vanguard. <They gesture at the bodies around them.> O5-8: Pardon my lack of tact, but I want this message to be clear. These idiots thought they could stop me. They thought they could take away my power and keep it for themselves. <O5-8 points at the nearest mangled corpse> O5-8: This was a Coalition battlemage. La crème de la crème of thaumaturges. But they have fallen all the same. <The camera zooms out again, showing the whole room.> O5-8: The world has had enough of your insanity. It's time for things to return to normal. And if you think you can stop me… <O5-8 kicks the helmet of a Coalition agent, which dislodges itself from the rest of the body. O5-8 winces.> O5-8: … look at what I did, and think twice. <Recording ends.> The contents of the previous message were uploaded to the internet, spreading quickly through various social media outlets. In response, the Vanguard Outreach Team published the following message on the social media website Void, which started a chain of messages around the subject of VNP-8050 during the following hours and days. Vanguard ⁂VanguardOfficial Hey folks. I'm sure you've already heard the deeply unsettling news coming from one of our facilities in Yellowstone. We, at Vanguard, condemn wholeheartedly the actions taken by this former SCP Foundation Overseer. We are in no way affiliated with them, and we intend to put a stop to this situation soon. ECHOES 5,104 HUMS 76,321 04:01 PM September 14 2022 Allieme98 ⁂amelieeee98 knowing the true face of the world changed my life for better. i've seen things i didn't believe were possible. and everyone i know has had similar experiences. i don't want all of this to go away. #stopyellowstone ECHOES 12,012 HUMS 14,023 05:10 PM September 14 2022 Little_Lebowsky ⁂small-lebowsky ⁂amelieeee98 Knowing about the anomalous altered my life forever. I'm a uni professor and it's staggering how much knowledge was hidden from our eyes. At my department, we have to change our fundamental understanding of science, and it's so exciting. #stopyellowstone ECHOES 367 HUMS 956 05:37 PM September 14 2022 Alice Unchained ⁂flowersunderground ⁂amelieeee98 omg same. I met my current SO while on a trip through the newly unveiled free ports. we have been together for over a year. my life would be shittier if I hadn't met them #stopyellowstone ECHOES 1,621 HUMS 9,450 06:56 PM September 14 2022 antigamer aktion ⁂lesbian_gengar This whole situation is horseshit. We just got the veil lifted and some crummy asshole with a god complex wants to put it back in place? They should go fuck themselves. #stopyellowstone ECHOES 4,954 HUMS 10,678 10:02 PM September 14 2022 John Alger ⁂LonewolfFreedomfighter I had my doubts, but it's confirmed: I knew Vanguard was part of the deep state, but I never thought they'd come for me. Shame the state our country's fallen into. ECHOES 1 HUMS 4 11:35 PM September 14 2022 HOGSLICE ⁂HOGSLICE ⁂LonewolfFreedomfighter DON'T BE A CRYBABY. A REAL MAN DOESN'T LET OTHERS TELL HIM WHAT HE HAS TO DO. WORK ON YOUR PRESENT SELF SO YOU CAN CONQUER YOUR FUTURE! GO OUT THERE AND MAKE A DIFFERENCE — HOGSLICE ECHOES 21 HUMS 156 11:36 PM September 14 2022 Tony ⁂skeptic-altruist I think the world was better when we didn't know about these "anomalies". Before, there was peace and prosperity. Now, I have to be careful when I walk on the street because the boogeyman might want to steal my face. I want the veil back. #standwithyellowstone ECHOES 102 HUMS 27.125 01:24 AM September 15 2022 In addition, during the following week, various spontaneous protests began springing up in the United States, displaying discontent against the actions being taken in Watchtower-θ. Protestors in Cheyenne, Wyoming On the 15th of September, Vanguard, with assistance from local police departments and the National Park Service, dissuaded peaceful protesters from marching up to Watchtower-θ for fear of violent retaliation by O5-8 and their forces. No further expeditions into the occupied location were organized, but all methods of surveillance at Vanguard's disposal were used to monitor the developments around the park. Kant counters, VERITAS resonance imagers, Akiva radiation counters and Pickman-Sinclair Narrative Fluctuation Detectors were placed around the park to gauge any significant changes in local reality, aetheric fields and narrative stability. Meanwhile, the Vanguard Board of Directors reconvened in Watchtower-09. Board Members Present: Allan J. McInnis, Director of Lighthouse-43 Tilda Moose, Director of Watchtower-19 Dr. Dan Daniels, Director of ETTRA Sophia Light, Director of Project Resurrection Alison Chao, the Black Queen Angelica Harada, Elder of House Kurinuka Matt and Aklerep, Agents of the Compilation Layer Other Attendees: Dr. Katherine Sinclair, Lighthouse-87 Vera Keay Dr. Dan Daniels: Alright folks, this is as good of a full house as we’re gonna get. The Coalition’s done us a favor and shown us what won’t work, so now we better find out what will. Now. <Vera Keay stands up from her chair.> Vera Keay: Before we start, I want to use this opportunity to address something very important. PANOPTICON. Dr. Dan: What about it? Keay: It’s a downright dystopian system of mass surveillance that we should stop using immediately, if we ever really want the public to trust us. Dir. Sophia Light: It's a necessary evil, always has been. We need it to know our enemies’ moves, to detect threats before they cause harm. Dr. Dan: PANOPTICON is what makes my job possible. ETTRA uses it to save lives every day. Dr. Tilda Moose: While I’m definitely not a fan of the system, we’ve yet to find a viable- <Keay slams her palms on the table.> Keay: Listen to me. You’re all still thinking like Jailors. I joined this organization because I believe everyone deserves a second chance, even you. I joined because I believed in the cause you proposed. Dr. Dan: We don’t have time for this lecture! There are far more important things at stake! Keay: What’s more important than the nature of our organization? We can’t let the shadow of the Foundation corrupt us, we can’t fall back on old solutions, and the time for change is now. The whole world’s holding its breath to see how we deal with this crisis. How will they react when they find out we’ve been tracking everyone without their consent? Dr. Katherine Sinclair: She’s right about that. We will have to reveal this eventually, and that day will not be good for public opinion. Dr. Dan: So what’s your solution, oh ethical one? Keay: We already have hotlines for reporting anomalies. Expand them, spread the word. We need to show the public we’re just as dependent on them as they are on us. That’s how you build trust and make allies, and make sure that next time the Park Service won’t even think of calling the GOC. Keay: Yes, it will be less efficient. But without public support, Vanguard won’t be able to function at all. And most importantly, we won’t lose sight of our mission. Aklerep: Even the system’s name betrays its nature: to imprison the world. This isn't our way, I would be happy to see it go. Alison Chao: Well said Vera. I support this wholeheartedly, and I propose we go even further - make the recording of this Board meeting public, and do the same for future ones. Dir. Allan McInnis: I am in favor as well. We’ve taken steps in the right direction, but transparency is key. Keay: All in favor? <Murmurs of agreement echo around the room. All Board members raise their hands, barring Dan and Light.> Dir. Light: Did you forget why we’re here? You want Eight to just open the internet and watch us plan to take them down? Chao: No more secrets, that’s what we agreed on. If that comes at a tactical disadvantage so be it. Besides, I doubt Eight sees us as a real threat. They probably won’t even bother. Dr. Dan: Fine! We’ll shut down PANOPTICON and release the recordings. Now can we please start focusing on stopping reality being reshaped in a pompous asshole’s image?! <The room quietens down. Keay takes her seat while Dan stands up and steps towards the whiteboard.> Dr. Dan: Thank you. Now, before we can talk solutions we need to talk problems. O5-8, what do we know about them? <He writes “O5-8” on the board with a black marker.> Dir. Light: Well for starters, they voted against Vanguard, but that should come as no surprise. I tried to see if we have any information about them anywhere, but the O5 anonymity protocols were thorough. Keay: Do we know if what they said about Yellowstone was true? That the Foundation used to have something that could bring back everything hidden there? Dir. Light: I've tried to figure that out, but our databases are lacking here. There are vague mentions of a "reset button" for reality, but that could mean a lot of things and we have no idea how accurate those sources are anyway. Whatever it was it's gone, and the Thorn is in its place. Dr. Moose: Maybe Eight knows something we don't? Dir. Light: Maybe, but any details should have been obliterated with the rest of the restructuring. Dr. Dan: Hm. What else do we know about our lovely former overlord? Dr. Moose: Six said they used to be obsessed with the ring. They used it all the time before the Impasse, and are definitely familiar with its abilities. <Dan picks up a red marker and writes ‘VNP-8050’ to the left of ‘O5-8’.> Dr. Dan: I noticed that even before they got the ring, they weren't baseline. Keay: That’s right. When Eight attacked O’Connor, I could barely follow their movements. Chao: They could be a reality bender in their own right, or enhanced some other way. Dr. Dan: That’s what I assumed myself. <Underneath ‘O5-8’, Dan adds ‘Cyborg?’ and ‘Type green?’> Dr. Dan: Anyways, this brings me to our next problem. The ring. How did Eight bypass its power when they hit the kid? What does it let them do now? Chao: Moose and I searched the Library with what little time we had. We couldn’t find anything concrete, mostly legends and rumors. This thing is downright ancient though, there’re records of it being used by the Daevites against Ion’s rebellion. <Dan writes ‘Ancient artifact’ under ‘VNP-8050’.> Dr. Moose: Which at least gives us a little hope, considering their fate. Dr. Sinclair: I think I’ve got that figured out, actually. Dr. Dan: Feel free to share with the class. Dr. Sinclair: So first of all, we know it absorbs magic to fuel itself. I’ve had the folks at 120 do EVE scans in the areas where it was activated, and the readings look like whirlpools, thaumic energy being drained into a singular point. And it doesn’t just take it from full-on thaumaturges; it goes after everyone no matter how little talent they have. Dr. Sinclair: So that’s the ‘how’, but the ‘what’ is more important. Six claimed it fulfills your desires, but that doesn’t line up exactly. O’Connor definitely didn’t want to lose their duel, so why did the ring make them fast enough to deflect a dozen assault rifles’ worth of bullets but still let them take Eight’s punch? Dr. Dan: Maybe we underestimated Eight’s physical abilities? Dr. Sinclair: Maybe, but I think it’s something else. See I live in Sloth’s Pit, where every day is a rollercoaster of narrative tropes, and after a while you get a sense for them. Alger, O’Connor and even Eight have all spoken in cliches, and they all fit into archetypes you see in popular media. It doesn’t fulfill a desire, not really. It makes your dream into reality, lets you live your power fantasy in the real world. Dir. Light: I don’t follow. What’s the difference? How does this explain O’Connor getting hit? Dr. Sinclair: ‘Desire’ can just be hunger or thirst. What we fantasize about, however, is heavily shaped by the media and stories we consume. Dr. Sinclair: O’Connor’s power fantasy was being a character from shonen anime. That involves fighting your opponents and beating them, but more importantly - the battle is always hard, to keep the viewer on their toes. The bad guy gets a few hits, then the good guy, until one emerges victorious. Eight knew this, so they played along, set themself up as the antagonist, and surprised our hero with a quick hit. <Director Light groans.> Dir. Light: I hate pataphysics. Dr. Sinclair: It’s not- Dr. Dan: Don’t start. So Alger was the family man, standing up to Evil Big Government. That tracks. Where does that leave Eight? Dr. Sinclair: Exactly where they started. The person in control from the shadows. The mastermind, the one who pulls the strings. Lots of henchmen around - that’s why they could summon Alpha-1 agents - and your people obey you, which is why Yellowstone fell so quickly. Dr. Dan: Then we just need to figure out the weakness of this particular fantasy. Dr. Sinclair: Yeah, but well… That’s the thing. Part of it is being this untouchable person in power. I’m not sure how we can go around this. Dr. Dan: There’s got to be something. If they’ve turned themselves into a Bond villain, maybe we just need the right hero? Dr. Sinclair: But there’s no real place for a hero in Eight’s fantasy. Only soft resistance to be swept away. Dir. McInnis: Actually, I think Dr. Dan is right. We need a hero, precisely because of what you said. Dr. Sinclair: Huh? Dr. McInnis: If there aren't any flaws to exploit in Eight's power fantasy, we simply need to bring a stronger one to the table. One that's fueled not by the desires of one Overseer, but by everyone's fantasy of being the hero in a story. Dr. Dan: Any you have something like that just lying around? Dir. McInnis: Yes. I'm surprised you don't recall. It was only a few months ago. <Dan's eyes widen, and slaps his hand against his face gently.> Dir. McInnis: The Leading Edge. The sword Delfina Ibanez used in the Library during the Impasse. It's an artifact of heroism. Isn't that exactly what we need? Dr. Sinclair: I'm not convinced. This feels like a shot in the dark, and we can't afford to miss. Dir. McInnis: That sword taught us that stories are magic. This ring seems to operate on the same principal. You said so yourself, even if you didn't realize it. It siphons magic from others for one person's story. The sword is its antithesis. Dr. Dan: Anyone got any other ideas? <Silence on recording.> Dr. Dan: Then let's get cooking. McInnis, get the sword from forty-three over here. Dir. McInnis: Of course. Dr. Dan: Who's gonna be holding the sword? Dr. Sinclair: Well it has to be either me or Keay, no? Keay: Wait what? Dr. Sinclair: We've interacted with the ring and Eight the most. We're in the protagonist role whether we like it or not. Keay: Uh, yeah I guess so. So we'll be leading the attack? Dr. Dan: Sounds like our only option. Go get some rest, we'll plan the rest of this operation and brief you in the morning. <Dr. Sinclair is talking on the phone. Only her side of the call is audible.> Sinclair: Monty please, listen. I have to do this alone. We both know how that sword works. I'll be okay! Vera will have my back. What can I say, I guess I'm a magnet for this sort of thing. "But it's weird that it happened twice." Yeah, I know. Sinclair: I promise. I love you. Just hold on, I'll be back for the two of you. Kiss Phoenix goodnight for me. Love you. Alison Chao: Hey. Vera. Wake up. Vera Keay: Wha- who let you in my room? Chao: Everything’s alright. I just wanted to say something, before they snatch you for the briefings and whatnot. <Keay wipes the sleep from her eyes.> Keay: Go ahead. Chao: Last night, at the Board meeting, well. You left me kind of embarrassed. You shouldn’t have been the one to point out the hypocrisy of those idiots. I was- it was supposed to be my role, or at least that was what I thought a year ago. But I guess once you spend enough time in the system, those sorts of things fade into routine. Chao: Sorry for not making a lot of sense, I’m not good at this. I just want to thank you for what you said back there. And I want you to have this. <She gives Keay a tweed-wool newsboy cap.> Keay: Oh, thanks. Chao: Don’t wear it until you hear the briefing. Good luck Vera, you make the Hand proud. Sinclair: So this is the Leading Edge? Dan: Yeah. I want you two to hold it, see which one it likes better. <Sinclair takes the sword from Dan’s hands. It immediately begins to glow softly with white light. Her red hair stands up slightly, as if touched by static electricity.> Sinclair: Holy shit. This is like the Codex all over again. It’s a fountain of magic! <She hands it to Keay. The glow of the blade doesn’t waver.> Keay: Whoah. This is awesome. <She swings the sword a few times, practicing the weight.> Dan: Huh. So this is going to be a two-woman operation after all. On September 16th, 2022, at 7:20 AM, a large force made up of Vanguard MTFs arrived at Yellowstone Park, joining ranks with agents of the National Park Service. The small army was ‘bolstered’ with illusory troops sustained by Vanguard thaumatologists from the Serpent’s Hand, led by Alison Chao, the Black Queen. Meanwhile, Vera Keay utilized VNP-268 to enter Watchtower-θ undetected. As the joint forces breached the Park’s perimeter, agents of the defunct MTF-A1 (“Red Right Hand”) were observed leaving Watchtower-θ to meet them, outnumbering them four to one. O5-8 was not among the Alpha-1 agents, and they engaged Vanguard forces as they came in range, at 8:12 AM. <View is from Vera Keay’s body camera. She is inside the Watchtower, passing through the lobby, the Black Queen’s hat keeping her invisible in more ways than one. A single security guard is present, staring aimlessly ahead. No other personnel can be seen.> <Keay walks down a central corridor, and ducks inside a room to the left. It is a computer lab, and it is empty. She draws the sword from its scabbard, utters a word of power and makes a sweep in the air, cutting through reality like butter. An unstable Way opens for a few seconds, ejecting Dr. Katherine Sinclair, before closing behind the mage. Keay takes off VNP-268.> Keay: And from the portal comes… Katherine Sinclair! You alright? Sinclair: I’m glad you still have your sense of humor. Keay: It’s the sword. It’s making me super energetic. Sinclair: Come on, they know we’re here now. We need to move. Keay: Right behind you. Let’s kick some fascist ass. Sinclair: Technically authoritarian, but who cares at this point. <Keay hands the sword to Sinclair. They begin to move quickly down the corridors, following the signs to Operations Control, the presumed location of O5-8. They encounter no resistance, though they do pass by several enthralled Watchtower personnel, who ignore them. They go down a flight of stairs, stepping through to the facility’s cafeteria. Five Alpha-1 agents await them with weapons drawn.> <Keay raises her arms and a bubble of green energy manifests around the two. A hail of bullets slam against the sphere, ricocheting around the room. She groans in effort. Sinclair points the sword at one of the agents.> Sinclair: Ignis Calumen! <A pillar of flame erupts from the ground, turning the Red Right Hand to dust. Sinclair brings the sword around in an arc, and the inferno moves in kind, carving a black semicircle across the cafeteria. Keay drops the shield when the final agent disappears inside the fiery tornado. Her partner releases her own spell.> Keay: Oh how I’ve missed having my magic actually work. Nice job. Sinclair: You too. Here, that must’ve taken a lot out of you. <Keay takes the sword, breathing a sigh of relief as her magic replenishes. She puts her hand to her heart.> Keay: You feel it, right? Sinclair: Yeah. We’re close. Despite O5-8’s forces possessing far greater numbers, the presence of capable mages within Vanguard ranks allowed them to hold their own. Red Right Hand reinforcements were en route from the volcano proper in the form of ten military helicopters when a third party entered Yellowstone National Park. <Alison Chao stands on top of an armored vehicle, surrounded by a protective barrier. She twists her fingers in a complex pattern, and a bolt of lightning bursts from her shield and connects with an enemy soldier, searing their flesh and arcing between four more. She releases her shield and jumps off the vehicle, narrowly avoiding an RPG rocket as it soars above her.> <The rumbling of a large engine is suddenly heard, and the Black Queen looks in shock as a giant truck rolls into view, slamming into a platoon of Red Right Hand agents, while Judas Priest’s “Heading out to the Highway” plays on full volume. Driving the vehicle is John Alger, who draws a hunting rifle, leans out the window, and fires madly at the enemy agents. He misses every shot.> John Alger: Give me my fucking ring back you deep-state motherfuckers! <Sinclair and Keay enter Watchtower-θ Operations Control. The room is massive, far larger than it was before Eight’s occupation. Dozens of screens of varying sizes line the walls, the consoles attached to them glowing with LED green. On a heightened platform, sitting in a wheeled chair surrounded by computer monitors, is Overseer Eight. They are wearing an exquisite business suit. Behind them, the largest screen displays a black Thorn, stretching from top to bottom.> O5-8: Ah, welcome. You’ve arrived just in time, little traitors. Just in time to witness the world placed once more on its correct path. <The Overseer presses a button. A synthesized voice speaks.> Computer Voice: All systems operational. Ritual primed and ready for initiation. Keay: Sorry, we’re gonna have to cut that monologue of yours short. O5-8: You can certainly try. But I’m afraid I’ve got one more Deus Ex Machina than you. Computer Voice: Commencing ritual. <Eight raises their hand, VNP-8050 begins to glow gold. Keay charges at the Overseer, sword burning with white fire. Sinclair follows in tow, biting her finger to prepare for a spell.> <The floor warps and twists in its thrall to O5-8, rippling like a pool of water in a storm. The mages are flung backward by an invisible force, Sinclair's spell dying in her hands as a cry of pain escapes her mouth. They crash into the far wall.> O5-8 You can't touch me. You can't even go near me. <Keay stands shakily, leaning on the sword for support. Behind her, Sinclair struggles to rise from the floor.> Keay: Then we'll just kill you from afar! <She swings the sword at the air in front of her, each blow sending a bright disc of energy hurtling at the platform in the center of the room. But a flash of gold from the Overseer steers them off course, and they fly into the walls around them instead, detonating in a shower of glass and burning machinery.> O5-8: Your resistance is pointless, though I must admit it's rather fun. <Keay helps Sinclair to her feet, handing her the sword. Before the other woman can grab it, however, the two are blasted apart in an explosion of raw force. They tumble down to opposite corners of the room, the Leading Edge clattering to the ground next to Keay.> Computer Voice: Reality restructuring imminent. O5-8: Yes, very fun indeed. But all good things must come to an end. <Keay grabs the hilt. Eight snaps their fingers. Everything goes black.> A vast facility built within a massive cavern, rows upon rows of lifepods as far as the eye can see. A rose as red as blood, Blooming in the spring. A dark Thorn shrouded in mist, a needle of total blackness that encompasses all of existence. Falling endlessly down a Bottomless Pit. Darkness quickly consumes the chromatic flames that blaze above. A newborn child’s cry echoes in her ears, drowning out all else. Crying, alone within a twisting labyrinth of bookshelves that spreads in every direction. Her tears smear the book that is the floor, ruining the circle. A stranger’s shadow casts a deep primal fear that consumes every other thought. A sword engulfed in white-hot fire. <And then they are all back within the room. The screens on the walls have turned to static.> At 8:42, all thaumaturgy within a ten kilometer radius of Yellowstone Mountain ceased to function. The illusory forces dissipated, and Vanguard mages were left drained and exhausted. At the same time however, approximately half of the opposing force spontaneously disappeared in a flash of golden light, including the reinforcing helicopters. <Yellowstone rumbles. The two mages shut their eyes as VNP-8050 glows brighter than ever before, bathing the room in pure gold for an instant before dying down. They rise to their feet.> O5-8: What? How- you idiots! I’ll take that fucking sword from your dead bodies! Sinclair: Now, Vera! <With newfound strength Keay leaps across the room, gripping the sword with both hands. O5-8 draws a pistol from their belt and fires three shots, the bullets streaking through the air like golden shooting stars. Vera cuts the air once, twice, three times, slicing each of them to stardust.> <Sinclair finishes a spell and lobs a fireball at the Overseer, who jumps off the platform. Vera dives after them as machinery explodes behind her. She thrusts the blade towards Eight who disappears, reappearing instantly on the other side of the room.> Keay: Get them! <She throws the sword to Katherine, who grabs it from the air. She bites down on her left hand while swinging the sword in the upward arc. A colossal wall of fire climbs up from the floor and licks at the ceiling, forcing Eight backward, away from the exit and into the corner.> <Katherine lets her blood drip onto the sword, the rush of power almost overwhelming. She slings spells like a madwoman, deadly lances of red fire homing on the Overseer as they duck and sidestep and roll away, desperately looking for a reprieve. She gives them no quarter.> <Vera shouts something the other woman can’t make out, but the crackling spear of emerald lightning speaks for itself. O5-8 screams in pain, their suit burning away to ash. Beneath it, wires pulse inside metallic skin. Green sparks arc around their body, and they screech in a voice that’s still awfully human.> O5-8: Your magic is mine by right. I’ll take it, along with your pathetic lives! <The ring lights up as they raise their cybernetic arm. It shifts, pieces sliding away until their hand becomes the mouth of a cannon. Vera breaks into a sprint towards them.> Keay: This isn’t just our magic. Katherine! <Katherine tosses her the Leading Edge, and she catches it just as Eight fires. The beam of violet energy surges towards her, and she pours all of her strength and magic into one final swing. The beam splits in two, forking off into two separate blasts that streak into the walls, where they explode in a cloud of smoke. The whole room shakes violently.> <O5-8 suddenly lurches forward, dropping to their knees. Katherine rushes to them and sees why. Rolling on the floor is VNP-8050, still attached to a piece of the Overseer. It had taken in too much, overheated with raw power, and melted the steel finger on which it rested clean off the rest of the hand.> Coinciding with this exact moment, all Alpha-1 agents within Yellowstone lost consciousness. This is believed to be a result of their link to VNP-8050 being abruptly severed. Dr. Sinclair succeeded in opening a Way from within Watchtower-θ to Sloth’s Pit, where she collapsed alongside Vera Keay, the Leading Edge, and VNP-8050. ITEM №: VNP-8050 VNP-8050 on display. Normalization Protocols: VNP-8050 is currently housed in the Arcane Artifacts Wing of the Museum for Parahistory in Three Portlands. A team of archeologists is currently trying to discern the origin and intended use of VNP-8050 through cross-examination with sources from the Wanderer's Library and similar objects encountered throughout history. Any discoveries made by the team will be published by Vanguard. Nobody is advised to approach VNP-8050 or wear it. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "VNP-8050" by Diogene_s, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8050. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Ring MET DP356224.jpg Author: https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/551292 License: Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication Source Link: https://openverse.org/image/06da9313-5ce6-49e4-bdb7-cd08720c0d73?q=Redneck Additional notes: Image edited by WarriorofChaos ** The image Vanguard-Informal-Poster includes a variation of these two images: Filename: Greek_Ring_(OAW).png Author: Unknown artist License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Greek_ring_(OAW).png Additional notes: Image edited by WarriorofChaos Filename: Roman_Ring_(OAW).png Author: Unknown artist License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Roman_ring_(OAW).png Additional notes: Image edited by WarriorofChaos Filename: Vanguard logo Author: Aethris License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source: https://imgur.com/tslbdWm Filename: CNN-Headline.png Author: Argya Diptya License: Public Domain Source Link: https://www.flickr.com/photos/ianonline/8148885380 Additional notes: Image edited by WarriorofChaos Filename: CNN-Headline.png Author: WarriorofChaos License: Public Domain Source Link: https://www.flickr.com/photos/ianonline/8148885380 Additional notes: Image edited by WarriorofChaos Name: Black_male_domestic_cat_004_02.jpg Author: Julián Monge Nájera License: CC BY-SA 4.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Black_male_domestic_cat_004.jpg Filename: Void-Flower-Thumbnail.png Author: WarriorofChaos License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Name: 4777785759_5f7a3b5ceb_o.jpg Author: Tony Buser License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: Alger_Void_Profile_Pic.png Author: https://www.flickr.com/photos/25598800@N02 License: Creative Commons CC BY SA 2.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ring_MET_DP356224.jpg Additional notes: Image edited by WarriorofChaos Filename: HOGSLICE PFP Author: Brandon Oliver License: Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Scott_Steiner_2018.jpg Filename: lesbiangengar.png Author: ch00bakka, MortyMOON License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Derivative Of: Name: Gengar - Pokemon Author: MortyMOON License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: DeviantArt Name: Lesbian Pride pink flag.svg Author: N/A License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Name: 4777785759_5f7a3b5ceb_o.jpg Author: argyadiptya License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Additional notes: Image edited by WarriorofChaos Name: Museum-Exhibit.png Author: WarriorofChaos License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons 1 Wikimedia Commons 2 Footnotes 1. A Serpent's Hand battlemage who joined Vanguard shortly after its formation. 2. A public-service podcast produced by Vanguard. 3. Emergent Threat Tactical Response Authority. 4. A global surveillance system inherited from the Vanguard precursor known as the SCP Foundation. 5. The identity given to the individual formerly known as O5-6, currently under summary witness protection granted by the UN. 6. Formerly Site-θ, the Watchtower monitors a spatial anomaly thought to exist under Yellowstone. |
SCP-8051 | euclid | Item #: SCP-8051 Special Containment Procedures: The land surrounding SCP-8051 has been purchased by a Foundation front company, and a security perimeter established. No civilians are to be allowed access to SCP-8051, and neither instance of SCP-8051-1 are to be allowed to leave. No open flames are permitted within the vicinity of SCP-8051. A research station has been set up on-site to facilitate investigation. Description: SCP-8051 is a three-story manor house located near the village of Lerry, England. The building and all objects within it are composed entirely from woven thread, including the walls and foundations. Despite the issues such a construction would normally encounter, SCP-8051 shows no signs of structural instability. Any damage inflicted to SCP-8051 will regenerate over the course of two to three minutes, with new material appearing where required. SCP-8051 is host to two humanoid entities, hereafter referred to as SCP-8051-1A and SCP-8051-1B. SCP-8051-1A and SCP-8051-1B resemble a human male and female of advanced age respectively, but inspection shows that they are also composed entirely of thread. The origin of these entities is as of yet unknown, but they will spontaneously materialize in a closet on the third floor of SCP-8051. Upon materialization, the entities proceed to their preferred location within the house and remain there for as long as possible. Inevitably, however, the SCP-8051-1 entities will suffer some form of accidental damage shortly after materialization. This superficial damage will then slowly spread and exacerbate until the entity completely disintegrates into its base components. Evidence suggests this process is painful. Attempts have been made to prevent this accidental damage by restraining the instance, but this has caused said accidental damage in every case. Two to three hours following destruction, a new instance of the destroyed SCP-8051-1 instance will materialize in the upstairs closet. No records of SCP-8051's existence prior to 2023 have been found. A family portrait sewn into the wall of the main foyer identifies the SCP-8051-1 entities as 'Henry and Eleanor Cotton'. No trace of these individuals existing has been found, save for a fostering application filed in the year 1870. Addendum 8051-1 (SCP-8051-1 Behavioural Patterns) Following materialization, the SCP-8051-1 entities display distinct and consistent patterns in behaviour. SCP-8051-1A, 'Eleanor Cotton', will without exception retreat to the bedroom on the third floor and assume the fetal position on the floor. It will not vocalize or acknowledge the presence of any other individuals, but analysis of facial expressions and body language suggest a constant state of anxiety. Presumably, it behaves in this manner in an attempt to avoid suffering damage and the disintegration that follows. It is not successful. SCP-8051-1B, 'Henry Cotton', will proceed towards the sitting room on the first floor of SCP-8051 upon materialization. If it reaches this room alive, it will then sit down in an armchair, face the unlit fireplace, and continuously vocalize until disintegration. Like SCP-8051-1A, it does not acknowledge the presence of other individuals — its speech consists of a perpetual and variably coherent stream of consciousness. The majority of this speech is an entreaty to an unidentified entity it believes to be responsible for its current status, attempting to convince it to release SCP-8051-1B. Again, it is not successful. Samples of SCP-8051-1B's speech are included below: "There are things you have to do. Things you have to… in your grandfather's time, you're aware, you have to be aware of the weight on your back, the — the weight of it on your back. There's legacy there and that's important. It's the most important thing. Perhaps even the most important thing. It doesn't keep itself together. It's up to you. It's up to you to keep it together." "It wasn't even my idea. That's… it's the unfairness of it, to me, that makes it so unconscionable. Un-con-sci-o-na-ble. That's right. We have standards to these things. There's a… there's a ranking there. There's legacy. You have to — you have to consider the legacy, the burden, when passing… when you're making a decision like that. Why won't you listen? Why won't you listen?!" "I mean… nobody even wanted them anyway." "This is my house! My house! Do you hear me?! No! You can't do that! It's not… it's not! It's my house! Legacy! Legacy! Do you even understand what that means?! Don't touch it! You can't touch it, it's mine — and it's not fucking cheap! There were circumstances, goddamnit!" "For the love of god!" Addendum 8051-2 (Tertiary Anomaly) During materialization of SCP-8051-1A, research staff on-site noted a mild tremor through the grounds of SCP-8051. Monitoring equipment was installed and confirmed that, on each occasion a new SCP-8051-1 instance materializes, there is a shifting in the structure of the soil throughout the surrounding area. During one of these events, ground-penetrating radar confirmed the spontaneous formation of multiple unusually shaped air pockets beneath SCP-8051. These air pockets were observed to move around beneath the house briefly before collapsing upon completed materialization of SCP-8051-1. These pockets would appear to be the cause of the observed tremors. While this has not yet been confirmed, analysis of the shapes of these air pockets suggests the presence of numerous tiny humanoids, crawling through the earth. |
SCP-8052 | keter | Item #: SCP-8052 Special Containment Procedures: Operation PERFECT BLUE is to at all times consist of at least seven (7) administrative staff in charge of receiving and processing monthly reports from undercover operatives. They are to collate these results into an annual report on the progress of PERFECT BLUE to the project head and personnel selected by the project head. Undercover PERFECT BLUE operatives are to make monthly reports in a format agreed upon by their respective handlers. All products containing the flavor “blue raspberry” are banned from Site-45. Any personnel showing signs of SCP-8052 affliction are to be administered a Class-A amnestic and monitored for 24 hours. Due to stringent personnel requirements, no contact is to be made with SCP-8052-1 until a safe method of doing so is found by the Tactical Theology Department. Description: SCP-8052 refers to an anomalous disorder which affects <0.5% of people who have consumed at least 3 blue raspberry flavored food items within a 24-hour period. SCP-8052 is characterized by several symptoms, the most significant of which are: The belief that ‘blue raspberries’ are a fruit that exists in nature.1 A complete inability to digest non-blue raspberry-flavored food items. Sufferers of SCP-8052 do not have their physiology altered in any physical way, but any non-blue raspberry-flavored food consumed will disappear in the esophagus before reaching the stomach. Subjects also report that other foods taste “bland”, and have no interest in consuming them. Increased dream recall, as well as the presence of SCP-8052-1 in a majority of dreams. SCP-8052-1 is a Level-5 Pistiphage2 Entity existing outside of baseline reality. SCP-8052-1 takes the form of a mass of a series of blue orbs gathered around a single tendril emerging from the center of the mass. SCP-8052 sufferers serve as the means by which SCP-8052-1 derives pistiphagic nutrition. It is hypothesized that if 0.9% or greater of the global population were affected by SCP-8052, SCP-8052-1 would become capable of entering baseline reality. Consequences of this are currently unknown, but based on characteristics of similar entities, would cause an HK-Class Deific Subjugation Scenario. SCP-8052 was discovered in 2007 after blue-raspberry flavored foods and beverages were found to have a statistically significant positive difference in Akiva radiation to comparable items. The Tactical Theology Department compared readings to those of food items used in trans-substantiation practices, and deduced SCP-8052’s existence. SCP-8052-1 was later confirmed to exist when members of the Tactical Theology Department performed a reverse trans-substantiation ritual which resulted in extensive damages to the site cafeteria and one participant becoming permanently catatonic. The Tactical Theology Department contacted the Department of Miscommunications and devised Operation PERFECT BLUE as a means to contain SCP-8052-1. If you’re reading this, you’ve been handpicked to join Operation PERFECT BLUE. Our algorithms have scanned your psychological profile, your past work, and determined that out of hundreds of thousands of personnel, you are a perfect candidate. You should feel proud of yourself, but please don’t take this as an order. I only want volunteers. If you choose to join PERFECT BLUE, the stakes will be much higher. You’ll learn things you wish you could forget, and perform duties that our most experienced agents will refuse. We are the Foundation. We’ve saved the world so many times we’ve literally lost count. We will go to war with this thing on the only battlefield it knows, and by whatever god you believe in, we will win. -Director W. Chu, PERFECT BLUE Head Supervisor + Operation PERFECT BLUE Aims and Methods - Close Operation PERFECT BLUE is an operation conducted from Site-45 by the Department of Miscommunications in collaboration with select personnel from the Department of Tactical Theology. The project’s aim is to prevent the incursion of SCP-8052 into baseline reality. This aim has been divided into several sub-goals, including: The association of “brilliant blue” coloring with products unsafe for human consumption, such as antifreeze, T███ laundry detergent, and W█████ window cleaning spray. The characterization of all artificial blue food flavors as unhealthy. The widespread dissemination of the fact that real ‘blue raspberries’ are in fact more purple in coloration. The monitoring of global trends in raspberry growing, harvesting, and processing for statistical anomalies. The investigations of novel methods to permanently contain SCP-8052 by influencing human culture. Forty-seven (47) Foundation agents have been inserted into positions in government and the industries of agriculture, cleaning products, and nutritional sciences to further said sub-goals. As of 2036, Operation PERFECT BLUE has maintained the global prevalence of SCP-8052 at roughly 0.09 percent at any given moment. Interviewed: Sgt. Elizabeth Ortigas, MTF Psi-2 (Lotus Eaters) Interviewer: Dr. Amira Carrington, Tactical Theology Department Senior Researcher Foreword: The following interview was conducted on July 24, 2036, two weeks after Ortigas and the Tactical Theology Department used perceptual enhancers and a hypothesized ritual procedure to attempt contact with SCP-8052-1. <Begin Log> Ortigas: The rest of the Foundation thinks PERFECT BLUE is a joke, and I used to. I mean, you got Dr. Chu’s letter too, right? Carrington: Yes, sometime last year, I think. Ortigas: So you agree? He makes it sound like it’s some black-ops division. Half the people I know at this site got it, and pretty much all of them turned it down when they found out what the job was. Have you heard about a guy called Scott Jaynes? Carrington: No. What’s his role in all this? Ortigas: He spent decades designing painkillers for big pharma, then one day hates himself so much he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror. So when the Foundation contacted him, he jumped at the offer. He gets the letter, doesn’t have enough friends to tell him no, and decides he wants in. Know where he is now? Ortigas: He’s still technically in employ of the Foundation but his main job is, he helps oversee an annual cleaning product industry expo. He thought he was gonna be a hero among heroes, and now he spends his days making sure detergent pods are juuust the right shade of blue. Ortigas: So when my team was contacted by PB looking for an operative, I volunteered. I thought it’d be funny, and plus I wanted to get out of all that business in Manila, you know? Carrington: Of course. You don’t need to justify your choices. Ortigas: So at the briefing they told me I’d be trying to make contact with a god outside baseline reality, so I had to commune with it. Like, get on its wavelength. Carrington: And for the record, what were the ritual preparations? Ortigas: Sorry? Carrington: What did you have to do to “get on its wavelength”? Ortigas: Ah. Aside from daily meditations on the color of brilliant blue, I could only consume blue-raspberry flavored items. I drank flavored water. I ate these special protein bars whipped up by PB staff. Ortigas: I tried to stay in shape by spending hours on the treadmill. The glucose on my weekly blood tests were all good, but the flavor got really nasty really fast. Carrington: How long did this go on for? Ortigas: About the fifth week, I took a blood test. The lab tech tried to draw it out, but the syringe was stuck. Another tech took over, managed to pull some blood. But this time the blood was blue, not red. And it was thick and syrupy. I’m not a doctor, but I’m pretty sure that’s not normal. They informed their supervisors, and soon PB gave me the blue- I mean, green light. Carrington: Green light to do what? Make contact with SCP-8052-1? Ortigas: Yep. I did my normal meditation, but I dosed myself with a DMT inhaler and wore this combination of noise canceling headphones, and goggles PB made that blocked all wavelengths of light except, you know. Carrington: How long did you remain in this state before you made contact? Ortigas: Oh, it didn’t take long at all. Within minutes, I was floating in a void, staring at what looked like a giant raspberry made of blue lights. Those ones that come in a string and you hang them in a tree? What are those? Carrington: Christmas lights? Ortigas: Yes. Christmas lights. Sorry. It was thrilled to meet me. I told it I was a representative of our dimension, and we did not want it or its gross, artificial ‘flavor’ here. I used my years of training to psychically tell it to fuck off and never come back. Carrington: How did it respond? Ortigas: It showed me a couple of things. Blue tongues and teeth, teams dumping Gatorade on their coaches, that kind of stuff. I think it wanted to show me it wasn't going easily. Then it started to get weird. I saw blue bananas on trees and blue tomato bushes, blue carrots being pulled out of the ground, produce aisles of just blue, blue, blue. There was a wheel with axles sticking out and people were pushing them forward, like how a drawbridge opened in the old times. It was making this screw in a gigantic vat turn, mixing a sea of blue ice. It looked blue but I didn't think it was our blue. Carrington: So you ended contact after that? Ortigas: It wanted me to submit, acknowledge defeat, and I knew I’d die if I didn’t. When I came to I was on the floor vomiting blue. They told me I lost over 25 percent of my syru-my blood. Carrington: Do you feel any different now? Ortigas: Brain’s been feeling sort of sticky lately. Like, I’m sick of that taste and that color and wish I hadn’t volunteered for this project or majored in theology or been born at all, but I also could really go for a blue snow cone, you know? Everything’s about to be a blue snow cone anyway. Carrington: I understand. Thank you for your time, agent. Ortigas: Okay. I should’ve g-gone to Manila. <End Log Closing Statement: Parameters of Operation PERFECT BLUE have been updated in accordance with Agent Ortigas’ account. Agent Ortigas has been classified as an anomalous humanoid and their request for euthanasia is pending approval. +Submit 7991/PERFECT BLUE Credentials: - Welcome, Junior Researcher. You have one (1) message. Colleagues and friends, Let me start by saying, I admit the admission letter has always been a bit over the top. I had a lot of fun writing it. I recited it in front of the mirror before I sent the first one. Is it false, though? I want to remind everyone that SCP-8052-1 is a god, and we are holding it back from turning the universe into a brilliant blue hellscape. We’re still processing the results of this season’s harvest, but we’re pretty sure every person afflicted by SCP-8052 makes raspberries across the world less purple and just a little more blue. On topic, It’s been a wonderful 11 years working with you all, but due to personal reasons I’m announcing my indefinite hiatus from PERFECT BLUE. I don’t think I can continue to be an effective project head, and as such am transferring my authority to Dr. Qazi, who I know will be more than capable of fulfilling my responsibilities. Let me explain. I took this weekend to spend time with my kids. Macy has almost graduated elementary school, so I took her to the mall to pick out a graduation present. I know it’s barely a graduation, but when your job is holding back the end of the world you need to celebrate what you can. We were headed to the hobby store to get her a telescope when she saw one of those big candy shops with the high ceilings and the dispensers where you can fill up a little baggie. She ran into the store, and I followed her. I should’ve known better. I saw the bastard in the candy dispensers everywhere. The blue shark gummies, the blue jawbreakers, even those paper tubes of sugar. I couldn’t deal with it. I feel myself hyperventilating and getting faint. Some youngster walked by me with a bag of blue sour candies, the last thing I remember before I apparently cursed at him, snatched it and tossed it against the wall. I come to and I’m on the floor. There’s a crowd of people around me. Mall security has a towel to my forehead, and Macy is crying. I’m taking some time off to be with my family. And yes, I’ve informed Dr. Qazi that the ban will remain in effect. You shouldn’t be drinking that shit anyway, it’s full of artificial garbage. Go drink some water like a grown up instead. -Director W. Chu, Former PERFECT BLUE Head Supervisor Footnotes 1. No such fruit or associated plant exists. Commercial ‘blue raspberry’ flavors mimic the blackcap raspberry, whose fruit are dark purple in coloration. 2. n, Greek, “faith-eater” |
SCP-8053 | safe | SCP-8053 prior to obtaining anomalous properties. Item #: SCP-8053 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8053 is contained in a humanoid containment cell at Site-17. The cell is to be modified to be sound-proof and installed with a digital display timer that synchronizes with the anomaly's activation. The cell is also to be supplied with a collection of literary material, a television set accompanied with a selection of pre-approved films, and several automatic air fresheners. Physical interactions with SCP-8053-A are to be avoided if possible. Personnel are to wear ARC flash suits and insulated gloves prior to physical interaction, should physical interaction be deemed necessary. As SCP-8053-A possesses a deep-seated dislike of authority figures, SCP-8053-A is to be accompanied by a member of Site-17's D-Class personnel for enrichment purposes. The selected D-Class personnel is encouraged to engage in frequent conversation with SCP-8053-A and follow the requests the entity gives if they are deemed reasonable. Euthanization and/or sedation of SCP-8053-A is to be discontinued due to consistent ineffectiveness. Description: SCP-8053 is an electric chair constructed from wooden material. The object is not only able to operate without being connected to a power source, but is able to withstand all forms of physical damage. SCP-8053's anomalous properties appear to be interconnected with SCP-8053-A. SCP-8053-A refers to Horrace Fish, a man who was charged with five counts of murder before incarceration and being sentenced to death in 1985. SCP-8053-A is currently restrained in SCP-8053. Between intervals of five minutes, SCP-8053 will activate, electrocuting SCP-8053-A before briefly turning off. During this process, SCP-8053-A will suffer injuries expected for exposure to high voltages of electricity. Despite this, SCP-8053-A will not expire and all injuries inflicted unto SCP-8053-A will regenerate over the period of a few minutes. SCP-8053's behaviour is constant and autonomous. All attempts to forcibly deactivating SCP-8053 and/or removing SCP-8053-A from the anomaly conducted by the Foundation have failed. Acquistion: On the date of SCP-8053-A's scheduled execution, the prison had run out of supplies to carry out a successful lethal injection. Deciding to still carry out said execution, the prison opted to carry it out via electric chair. However, during the moment of activation, SCP-8053 spontaneously gained its anomalous properties, an event that both the prison staff and attending civilians witnessed. Upon receiving notification that SCP-8053-A had failed to perish and SCP-8053 continued to activate autonomously, the Foundation intervened. All witnesses were administered Class-B amnestics. SCP-8053 was replaced with an identical model and SCP-8053-A was acquired by the Foundation via standard D-Class Acquisition protocol. Decline: Over multiple years in containment, it has been noted that SCP-8053-A's regenerative properties have declined. Though it is still able to recover from death inflicted by SCP-8053's electrocution, the period of time in which it remains deceased has increased from the original 10 seconds it took in 1985, to 3 minutes as of July 26th, 2015. The SCP-8053 research team have opted to not inform SCP-8053-A of this information. However, SCP-8053-A appeared to possess knowledge of the fact its deaths were lasting longer during an enrichment interaction with D-Class personnel. See the attached log for further details. SAPIENT ANOMALY ENRICHMENT ROUTINE, LOG-2340APRT Individuals Present D-1221 SCP-8053-A Researcher Simone <BEGIN LOG> [D-1221 enters the containment chamber and waves at SCP-8053-A as he approaches.] D-1221: Hello, Horrace. How are you doing today? SCP-8053-A: How do you think I'm doing? D-1221: Sorry. [D-1221 moves to grab a book from the bookshelf on the wall.] Did you want to pick up from where we left off last time? SCP-8053-A: No. D-1221: Well, uh. What do you want to do today then? Watch a movie? SCP-8053-A: No. I'm feeling a little sentimental today. Let me tell you a story, son. D-1221: Oh, sure. SCP-8053-A: You know what I did to get the chair? D-1221: No, I don't… but I can't imagine it was anything good. SCP-8053-A: I strangled five women. All of them blondes. All of them young. All of them very pretty. D-1221: I guess you can say you had a type, eh? SCP-8053-A: I sure did. I know what I like, and I like choking the life out of young dumb blondes who look like my ex-wife. What got you into this situation? D-1221: I killed my cat and then my roommate. SCP-8053-A: Goodness, Eddie boy, I didn't know you were also a hard man. D-1221: I'm not particularly proud of what I did. I was—am, mentally ill. I didn't know this until after I was analyzed by a court psychologist. It made so much sense after hearing it from someone smarter than me. SCP-8053-A: Ah, so you're a nut. Heh. I met a few nuts in prison. My lawyer tried saying I was crazy, but the court wasn't buying it. But anyway, as I was saying, I killed five blonde bitches. I would submit my video profile for matchmaker services and get their number, then convince them to meet me in a park with a hiking trail, where I would butter them up and walk with them off the beaten path. D-1221: And then you strangled them? SCP-8053-A: Smart as a whip, aren't you? Yeah. I would dump the bodies off a ravine and leave them there to rot. Everything was going fine until someone found them. I guess it's my fault. I got sloppy. D-1221: Do you regret what you did? [SCP-8053-A laughs.] SCP-8053-A: Not one bit. I took pleasure in watching their lives go out like a candle in the wind. In fact, I— [An electric humming sound emanates from SCP-8053. The anomaly activates, electrifying SCP-8053-A. The subject twitches and writhes, screaming in pain.] D-1221: Man, that smell is awful every time. Can you even smell it yourself, or are your nostrils fried? [D-1221 covers his nose and looks away from SCP-8053-A. There are burn marks all over its body and its flesh is charred. The injuries begin to slowly reverse. SCP-8053-A remains unresponsive.] D-1221: Horrace? [Silence.] D-1221: Horrace? Hello? [D-1221 waves his hand in front of SCP-8053-A's face.] [SCP-8053-A jolts to life, gasping and staring up at D-1221.] SCP-8053-A: Fuck! [D-1221 jumps back a few paces, nearly falling over.] D-1221: Shit! You scared the hell out of me, man! What took you so long to come to? SCP-8053-A: What else? This rickety thing gets worse by the year. The shocks. The healing. In-between. Everything! The lab coats say it's nothing unusual but it's easy to say that from that side of the fucking screen! [SCP-8053-A shouts in the direction of the two-view mirror. After growling, SCP-8053-A visibly calms.] Ain't it? D-1221: What do you mean? SCP-8053-A: I've started to die. It was bound to happen. This all began, what, 30 years ago? The fact I've made it this long without dying for good is a miracle. But every time I die, I die for a little longer. D-1221: That sounds terrifying. SCP-8053-A: Want to know the real scary part? D-1221: What? SCP-8053-A: There's nothing after. D-1221: What do you mean? SCP-8053-A: There's nothing waiting for me at the other side. An eternity of nothing. It's not even darkness. Just nothing. [D-1221 fidgets.] SCP-8053-A: When I was a boy, my mom told me that if I didn't behave and do right by God, I would go to hell. But she always told me that hell would be fire and brimstone. This ain't that. D-1221: I— SCP-8053-A: Sorry. D-1221: No, it's fine, I just… don't know what to say. SCP-8053-A: In a way, I guess I've earned it. D-1221: How do you mean? SCP-8053-A: Well, let me ask you something, Eddie. Do you feel like you earned your punishment for doing what you did? D-1221: Well… I regret what I did. SCP-8053-A: That's not what I'm asking, son. [D-1221 remains silent a moment.] D-1221: Yes. SCP-8053-A: Right then. I don't regret what I did. But I know it was bad. And I know that when you do bad, you get punished. I deserve this. It's only fair. D-1221: I don't think anyone deserves to be electrocuted, killed, and be brought back to life for 30 years. SCP-8053-A: And here I was thinking you were a hard man, Eddie. D-1221: Horrace, that's torture. I don't think anyone deserves to be tortured. SCP-8053-A: Well, I think I do. The world could use less sick fucks like me. D-1221: I think you've atoned by now, don't you? SCP-8053-A: Heh. [Researcher Simone enters the room. She looks to D-1221 and then to SCP-8053-A, then motions for the former to follow her.] Researcher Simone: Come. We have need of you elsewhere. You'll get to wrap this up later. D-1221: But I— SCP-8053-A: Go with her, Eddie boy. I don't need these lab coat's pity parties. Nothing against you, son. But I know that you lab coats were keeping something from me, and now that I know what it is, I'm not gonna play ball with these prisoners you bring in to keep me company. Stop bringing them in. Researcher Simone: Are you sure, Mr. Fish? We find that mental stimulation is helpful for humans in conta— SCP-8053-A: Yes, I'm sure. Fuck off and leave an old man to die. Researcher Simone: Very well. D-1221, please follow me. D-1221: I… okay. [D-1221 and Researcher Simone exit the containment chamber.] [SCP-8053-A is alone in the chamber. After a short period of time, SCP-8053-A begins to quietly hyperventilate. A tear stream emerges from its right eye. An electric hum is heard.] SCP-8053-A: Bring it. <END LOG> |
SCP-8054 | esoteric-class | Hell, I could, in a keystroke, expunge the very notion of deity from the human consciousness. GeminidStrix SCP-8054 — Lingua Veritas ----------------------------- SCP Foundation: Terminal #462 ----------------------------- This terminal is restricted to personnel with Overseer-Level clearance. Please input credentials. IDENTIFICATION #: $ 05-02 PASSWORD: $ ********** > Validate Credentials Successfully validated. Access File System Access File System > SCP-8054 File - VeritasCode > SCP-8054 File - Discovery Log - Addendum. SCP-8054-1 > SCP-8054 File - Journal Entries of Dr. Elena Novak - Addendum. SCP-8054-2 > | ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8054" by GeminidStrix, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8054. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. |
SCP-8055 | euclid | The data you are trying to access has been lost. SCP-8055. ITEM #: 8055 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8055 are to be kept at Site-929 indefinitely. Living branches of SCP-8055 must be attended at all times by a minimum of 15 personnel with training in childcare. Surgical chambers at Site-929 are to be cleaned once daily at minimum regardless of use. Absolutely no persons related to a living branch of SCP-8055 may be permitted within a 12 mile radius of Site-929. Description: SCP-8055 refers to the spontaneous manifestation and integration//////+ ////# ▓▓eturn = ( ERROR: The data you are trying to access has been lost. ]dir=null ////scrt++- ▒▒▒▒ ////scrt----=▓▓│╢▓▓▓ost-op▓▓▓sfully harve▓▓▓▓ ╢▓▓ert+!y76p? [ Beg++n Log ] SCP-8055-26: Are you my doctor? BRADSON: Yes, I am. How do you feel? SCP-8055-26: Tired. My head hurts a lot. BRADSON: That's to be expected. [ 20 second pause ] SCP-8055-26: Did you make me better? BRADSON: There was much that had to be removed in many different places, but yes, the operation was a success. SCP-8055-26: Does that mean I'm going to live? BRADSON: Naturally. SCP-8055-26: I can't feel my left hand. I think the straps are too tight. BRADSON: Sorry about that. They have to be tight. It's for your safety. SCP-8055-26: But I can't feel my arm. I can't feel it at all. BRADSON: I just looked at it while you were sleeping. It's fine. SCP-8055-26: Can I see it? BRADSON: If we take the bandages off too soon, it won't heal properly. [ 16 second pause ] SCP-8055-26: Did you make my mom leave? BRADSON: What do you mean? SCP-8055-26: She told me she would stay and hold my hand until the surgery was over. BRADSON: Did she? I'm sorry. Your mother had to leave the room so I could operate on you. SCP-8055-26: Can you bring her back, please? BRADSON: What is her name? SCP-8055-26: Agnes. Doctor, my head really, really hurts. BRADSON: As I said, there was a lot to remove, but we'll give you more medicine soon to make you all better. What's your address? SCP-8055-26: Two three two one five west Washington street. BRADSON: What town and state? SCP-8055-26: This one. BRADSON: We had to move you to a different hospital while you were asleep. What town and state are you from? SCP-8055-26: Ada, Oklahoma. Now can you let my mom in? BRADSON: Not yet. I still need to ask you some questions. What is your name? SCP-8055-26: You should know that if you're my doctor. BRADSON: I'm sorry, I misspoke. I meant to ask— SCP-8055-26: [ Yelling ] Mom! Are you there? BRADSON: I need you to stay calm. Your mother will be right back. I meant to ask what your mother's name is. SCP-8055-26: I already told you. It's Agnes. BRADSON: Yes, but I need her full name. SCP-8055-26: Why don't you know that? Why are you asking me? BRADSON: I need to make sure your memory hasn't been affected by the surgery. Do you remember your name? SCP-8055-26: Eddy Darrow. BRADSON: What year is it now? SCP-8055-26: Nineteen oh three. I didn't forget anything. How many more questions are there? BRADSON: I'll ask as many questions as I need to, Eddy. Just be patient. SCP-8055-26: Where's my mom? Why won't you let me see my mom? BRADSON: Try not to get upset. Your mother will be back soon. SCP-8055-26: Stop saying that! BRADSON: Eddy, I need to you to answer my questions. SCP-8055-26: I'm really scared and I want my mom. You didn't put me back together right. I can feel it. I was fine before, and now my head really hurts and I can't see good. I want my mom. She was supposed to hold my hand but I can't feel my hand anymore. Please let me see my mom. I think I'm going to heaven. BRADSON: You're perfectly fine. The surgery was a complete success. There's no reason to be afraid. SCP-8055-26: I don't want to go to heaven yet. Just let me see my mom first. BRADSON: Why do you think you're going to heaven, Eddy? SCP-8055-26: Because it hurts, and I think I can see Jesus. BRADSON: Really? Where do you see him? What does he look like? SCP-8055-26: He's right next to you. He looks like in the pictures, but there's too much of him. He keeps talking but his mouth isn't moving. Oh! BRADSON: Tell me what Jesus is saying. SCP-8055-26: I don't want to listen! I'm scared. I'm really, really scared. BRADSON: Tell me what he's saying, Eddy, and I'll let you see your mother. SCP-8055-26: He says you drilled holes in my arm until it fell apart. He says you keep cutting me into pieces and making me forget. He says you're not going to stop. Please, please, let me see my mom. My head hurts so bad. I don't want to be here anymore. BRADSON: Hey. It's okay, Eddy. You're going to see her real soon, I promise. [ 48 second pause ] SCP-8055-26: Jesus wants to tell you something. BRADSON: What's that, Eddy? SCP-8055-26: He says people are going to know someday. BRADSON: I doubt that very much, Eddy. Now why don't we get you back to sleep? You've got another big operation ahead of you. [ End Log ] ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8055" by PeppersGhost, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8055. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Our little men and women; modern methods of character building; (1912) (14781868315).jpg Author: Russell, Thomas Herbert, 1862-1947; Everett, Marshall, 1863-1939 License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
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padding: 2vw; } close Info X SCP-8056: "The Far Fall" Long lost. More by this author! Item#: SCP-8056 Level5 Secondary Class: necropsar Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo SCP-8056 in containment. Special Containment Procedures: The creation of SCP-8056 is forbidden by order of the Temporal Anomalies Department. By fiat of the Director of Site-43, SCP-8056 possesses all rights, freedoms, restrictions and responsibilities common to non-anomalous personnel of the SCP Foundation. This status is pending Overwatch Command review. The Archives and Revision Section of Site-43 has fabricated counterfeit substitute records attesting to the existence of SCP-8056; these are to be considered 'official' for all personnel not privy to the contents of this file. Description: SCP-8056 is Jennifer Vide, a baseline human female whose existence is unattested by anything but the fact of her physical presence. The circumstances and timing of her birth have been confirmed via advanced DNA methylation analysis and blood gas testing, but both remain impossible. She possesses a full suite of apparently genuine memories of her life up to the moment of her appearance in 2024, but these do not accord with the memories of others, and her existence is not attested in genuine governmental, civilian, or Foundation records..Necropsar-class anomalies are mutually exclusive with the course of local temporality, yet nevertheless exist. Addendum 8056-1, Discovery: The following security camera footage was recorded in the main access corridor linking the Habitation and Sustenance Section, Archives and Revision Section, Security and Containment Section, Janitorial and Maintenance Section, and Acroamatic Abatement Facility AAF-D at Site-43 on 22 May, 2024. <Excerpt begins.> <Camera shows the approach to the sealed AAF-D airlock. A figure suddenly appears outside the airlock, moving to the right edge of the camera view at an extreme rate of speed.> <Camera shows the entrance to the Replication Studies main laboratory. Dr. William Wettle is standing in the doorway, conversing with Dr. Bastien LeBlanc. Subject, a young woman, appears at the left edge of the camera view, still running. She begins to scream. Dr. Wettle darts through the door, closing it halfway before Dr. LeBlanc wedges himself through as well. The containment breach alarm sounds as subject reaches the right edge of the camera view.> <Camera shows the entrance to the Archives and Revision main office, and the Security and Containment access corridor. Two members of STF Gamma-43 ("Random Walks"), Agents Mucci and O, are transitioning from a light jog to a run from S&C as subject appears at the left edge of the camera view. She is still screaming. The agents round the corner, and attempt to seize her person. She allows the contact, staring at her surroundings in apparent uncertainty.> <Dr. Harold Blank emerges from Archives and Revision. Subject notices him, and a look of extreme confusion passes over her face.> Subject: Dad? <Excerpt ends.> Dr. Blank, Chair of Archives and Revision, is married to Dr. Melissa Bradbury, Chair of Research and Experimentation. They have no children through this, or any prior, relationship. Subject was taken into S&C custody, protesting that Dr. Blank was her father until the arrival of her intake officer. The intake interview is reproduced below, in full. Intake Interview: SCP-8056 Intake Officer: Dr. Nhung T. Ngo, Psychology and Parapsychology (Chair) <Transcript begins.> <Subject is seated at the interrogation table. She appears to be approximately twenty years of age, dressed in a simple white shirt and jeans, with no obvious injuries or deformities evident. She is extremely agitated, and begins speaking as soon as Dr. Ngo enters the containment chamber.> SCP-8056: Tell them who I am! <Dr. Ngo sits down at the table, placing both hands on its surface.> Dr. Ngo: I'm afraid I don't know either. <Subject reaches out to clutch at Dr. Ngo's sleeves and hands. This is permitted without comment.> SCP-8056: It's me. It's Jennifer. Dr. Ngo: If I'm acquainted with any Jennifers, the fact escapes me right now. Stay calm — if you know who I am, you know I'm on your side, and if you know where you are, you know we'll figure this out. You do know where you are? SCP-8056: Point-43. Dr. Ngo: Ah. Well, that's a useful, ah, point of variance. This is Site-43. SCP-8056: Site…? It hasn't been called that since before I was born. Dr. Ngo: Which was when? SCP-8056: June 29th, 2005. Dr. Ngo: And where? SCP-8056: Here. I was born here. I've spent my whole life here. I've known you my whole life. Most of my life. After the reorg. We lived in the same hab block! Dr. Ngo: And who am I? SCP-8056: Dr. Nhung Ngo. Dr. Ngo: And what do I do? I'm sorry to be so banal, but we need to establish— SCP-8056: You're on the A5 Council. A5-13. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Ngo: And what is the A5 Council? <Subject begins to laugh. Tears are flowing down her cheeks.> SCP-8056: What's the A5 Council? Are you serious? Dr. Ngo: For the record, please. SCP-8056: The A5 Council is… you are the main advisory board. Dr. Ngo: For? SCP-8056: For? For Cornerstone! Dr. Ngo: What's Cornerstone? <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: Oh no. Dr. Ngo: Yes? SCP-8056: Is this the Foundation? The SCP Foundation? That's what this is, right? That's who you are? Dr. Ngo: That's correct. What— SCP-8056: How many people are there on the Earth? Dr. Ngo: I don't know the precise— SCP-8056: Ballpark! How many?! Dr. Ngo: About seven billion, I believe? <Subject begins laughing uncontrollably.> Dr. Ngo: Jennifer? What's wrong? SCP-8056: What isn't? You don't know who I am, you won't let me see my parents, you don't know what Cornerstone is, and you've got about six billion more people on your Earth than I've got on mine. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Ngo: You've claimed to be Dr. Blank's daughter. SCP-8056: I am. Dr. Ngo: And your mother…? SCP-8056: Melissa Bradbury. A5-5. He's A5-2. Is she alright? I didn't see her— Dr. Ngo: She's fine. But Jennifer, neither of them have ever had children. <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: It must have been the breach. Dr. Ngo: What do you mean? SCP-8056: It was the wrong time of year, and they never thought it would happen again. But that must have been it. Dr. Ngo: What breach? SCP-8056: The breach, or something like it! It was happening again. I never saw it, but I knew what it was. You have to let me talk to them! <Subject rises, still clutching Dr. Ngo's sleeves.> SCP-8056: We have to figure this out! I need to get back there! What if it's still happening? What if they're in danger? Dr. Ngo: Jennifer— <Subject rushes to the two-way glass.> SCP-8056: Are you in there?! Come out and talk to me! I need your help! <Dr. Ngo stands, and walks over to join subject. Subject begins pounding on the glass.> SCP-8056: I'M ONE OF YOU! YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE ME! I NEED TO GET BACK THERE! I NEED TO! <Dr. Ngo places a hand on subject's shoulder. Subject shakes her off, striking her in the stomach. Dr. Ngo bends over double, and subject snatches her security identification card before attempting to run to the chamber door.> SCP-8056: WE CAN'T WASTE TIME! WE CAN'T—! <Dr. Ngo extracts the needle she has pressed into subject's thigh, and drops it. Subject stares at her for a moment, then collapses. Dr. Ngo catches her, and maneuvers her back to her chair to await security.> <Transcript ends.> Observer Debriefing: SCP-8056 <Transcript begins.> <Dr. Ngo enters the observation room. Drs. Harold Blank and Melissa Bradbury are present. The former rushes to attend Dr. Ngo.> Dr. Blank: Are you okay? Dr. Ngo: Of course. Dr. Blank: You should get it checked out. Dr. Ngo: I'm fine, Harry. Dr. Blank: That's how Houdini died, you know. Dr. Ngo: Not really, no, and stop trying to change the subject before it's introduced. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Blank: Is she our daughter? Dr. Bradbury: She can't be. Dr. Ngo: She has your nose, Melissa, and Harry's eyes. Dr. Bradbury: You're going to have to do better than that. Dr. Ngo: And we will, now that she's sedated. Dr. Blank: Where did she come from? Dr. Ngo: Sounds like an alternate reality to me. She thinks we're some sort of Overseers. Dr. Blank: We know a few timelines where that happened, but they all collapsed. Dr. Ngo: Maybe that's how she ended up here. Dr. Blank: They collapsed years, even decades ago. You did the debriefings, Nhung. Dr. Ngo: I know. I'm just spitballing. Could this be a symptom of [EXPUNGED]?.Individuals cleared for this information will recognize it contextually. <Dr. Blank shrugs.> Dr. Blank: Anything goes with [EXPUNGED]. Dr. Bradbury: When will she disappear again? Dr. Ngo: We don't know that she will. Dr. Bradbury: Everything that's happened because of [EXPUNGED] has un-happened quickly. Dr. Blank: But it's been getting steadily worse, too. We can't assume there's a static ruleset. Dr. Ngo: We'll know more when she wakes up. I'd like you two to talk to her. Dr. Blank: Yeah, alright. Dr. Bradbury: No. Dr. Ngo: What? Dr. Bradbury: I said no. Dr. Blank: Mel— Dr. Bradbury: That isn't my daughter. I don't have a daughter. I c— <Dr. Bradbury has reached up to rub her eyes, and begins shouting incoherently. She forces one eye open with her fingers as she stumbles out of the room, cursing.> Dr. Blank: Contacts. She ought to be used to them by now, but. Dr. Ngo: Some things you don't get used to. Dr. Blank: Yeah. <Transcript ends.> Addendum 8056-2, Initial Tests: A comprehensive review of Site-43's electronic surveillance systems was undertaken by the Security and Containment Section subsequent to SCP-8056's manifestation. A number of vulnerabilities and unexplained aberrations were identified, and S&C Chief Hachiro Kuroki placed the entire facility on alert until further notice. As subject was now unconscious, medical and identity tests were conducted by the Health and Pathology Section with assistance from experts in Applied Occultism. Medical Report: SCP-8056 Dr. H. Forsythe, CMO, Site-43 Subject is a baseline human female approximately 20 years of age. Full spectrum analysis was undertaken per Security and Containment Section directive. The following notable results were derived: Subject is in perfect health; Markers for SCP Foundation health care are present in subject's fluids, organs, and DNA; Environmental indicators suggest long term residence in a 'clean' room or otherwise sequestered facility (cf. medical records of Technician Philip Deering, Nurse Wilhelmina Forsythe); Subject is the biological offspring of Drs. Harold Blank and Melissa Bradbury. Dr. Rozálie Astrauskas submitted a report on the subject of SCP-8056's field emanations, more commonly termed her 'aura'..Dr. Astrauskas is a Class-2 ("Adept") Type Blue specializing in auramancy. The only practitioner of this Talent in Foundation employ, her work is therefore only tentative and non-falsifiable; as it was nevertheless responsible for discovering the wholesale replacement of an SCP Foundation facility by malicious doppelgangers in early 2023, however, her assessments carry a high degree of institutional confidence. Auramantic Assessment: SCP-8056 Prepared by Dr. Rozálie Astrauskas, Site-43 Somatic representation of subject's field emissions (left) and expert interpretation (right). Element Key Standard Bands: Vigour Band (blue) Emotion Band (red) Psychic Band (yellow) Standard Elements: Hume Spirals (green) Esoteric and Novel Inclusions: None Non-Transmissible Inclusions: Identity Gradient (absent) Intent Bloom (absent) Analysis: Subject's standard bands read within expected tolerances for a baseline human female, with overlapping flare activity in the emotion and psychic bands indicative of a heightened mood consistent with ongoing anxious trauma. Intent bloom is sporadic and bodily unfocused, suggestive of uncertainty and/or general discombobulation; in a calm and determined state, said bloom should cluster at the ocular orbits and 'shear' in tune with the subject's focus. Hume spirals approximately match the local norm, though mild vertical distortion is observed and clarity is below average, in a state of apparent flux. No esoteric inclusions (thaumic radii/channels, transhumanistic deviations, etc.) are observed, and no uncatalogued elements are present. These readings confirm the working theory that subject originates from an alternate iteration of baseline temporality, as opposed to an alternate timeline altogether. Alternate iterations of this kind have been created whenever the Special Containment Procedures for SCP-5243 are incorrectly followed. These tangent realities survive until the seven members of Provisional Taskforce Sampi-5243 ("See You In September") correctly follow the procedures after one calendar year, at which point temporality collapses back to baseline and the tangent realities cease to exist. The Provisional Taskforce members undergo an involuntary memory realignment twenty-four hours later, forgetting their experiences over the past year and recalling the events of baseline. Debriefing records for each of these tangents suggest that Tangent 5243-A, wherein an alternate SCP Foundation was created by the senior staff of Site-43 after a catastrophic global conflict, is the most likely origin point for SCP-8056. That this tangent only existed between September 9, 2003 and September 9, 2004 is an obvious complicating factor. Addendum 8056-3, Interview Logs: After Dr. Ngo's hypodermic sedatives ran their course, subject was placed in a standard humanoid containment chamber for the continuation of the intake process. Intake Interview: SCP-8056 (Cont'd) Intake Officer: Dr. Nhung T. Ngo, Psychology and Parapsychology (Chair) <Transcript begins.> <Subject is seated at the interrogation table. Her apparent energy level is low, but as before, she begins speaking as soon as Dr. Ngo enters the chamber.> SCP-8056: I'm sorry. Dr. Ngo: Of course. Now, I thought we might go over some of the things you said yesterday in more detail. SCP-8056: I'm really, really sorry. I don't know what came over me. I've never done anything like that before. Dr. Ngo: You were worried about your parents, confused by your new environment. Flight was a perfectly typical response, and no offence, but you wouldn't make my career highlight reel of uncooperative interview subjects. SCP-8056: What about my parents? What was that? Dr. Ngo: You were demanding to speak with them. You wanted to get back to where they are. SCP-8056: Where they…? Dr. Ngo: Cornerstone, you said. SCP-8056: I don't understand. Dr. Ngo: I… don't either. You've been out for a while, but nothing in the meds should have affected your memory. Your brain scans— SCP-8056: Was I acting violently? They told me I hit you. Is that why I'm in custody? Dr. Ngo: No… Jennifer, you're in custody because you appeared suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, and none of us had ever seen you before. SCP-8056: What? You know who I am. <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: You know who I am! You walked me through the ethics primer last year. Dad got you to teach me a few holds and kicks before he'd let me date..Dr. Ngo is an expert practitioner of the Vietnamese martial art Nhất Nam, for defensive purposes in her role as parapsychologist. I… You've been my mom's therapist since the accident. Don't tell me you don't remember. Dr. Ngo: The accident? SCP-8056: With Doug..On September 18, 2002 Dr. Bradbury was attacked and incapacitated by SCP-5056 (then designated SCP-5056-A) at Site-43. She was rendered comatose for a period approaching one year, at the end of which she resigned from active duty and telecommuted as a consultant until returning to the facility in late 2020. Dr. Ngo: Jennifer… What is Cornerstone? SCP-8056: What's a cornerstone? You…? Dr. Ngo: Proper noun. Cornerstone. You were talking about it yesterday. SCP-8056: I don't… Dr. Ngo: The A5 Council? SCP-8056: The… O5 Council? Dr. Ngo: You said this Earth had six billion people more than the one you came from. SCP-8056: I came from here. <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: I have no idea what you're talking about. <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: I want to see my parents. Dr. Ngo: Dr. Blank has agreed to meet with you. We'll arrange that soon. SCP-8056: What about my mom? Dr. Ngo: She's unavailable right now. It has nothing to do with you. SCP-8056: I don't… Dr. Ngo: I know. I'm just as confused as you are. SCP-8056: But you get to leave the cell and talk to people who might have some idea what's going on. I'm stuck in here. Dr. Ngo: If you took that ethics test, you know we're not going to leave you in the dark forever. SCP-8056: Sure. It'll only feel that way. <Transcript ends.> Observer Debriefing: SCP-8056 <Transcript begins.> <Dr. Ngo enters the observation room. Dr. Harold Blank is present.> Dr. Blank: This shit again. Dr. Ngo: Yes? Dr. Blank: Yeah. Always happens when an alt timeline collapses. One day later, the old memories disappear and new ones that fit the present course replace them. Dr. Ngo: Except that only happens with the Taskforce, and in any case her new memories don't match reality much better than the old ones did. Dr. Blank: They're closer. No apocalypse. No reorganized Foundation. <Dr. Blank sighs.> Dr. Blank: It honestly didn't occur to me that this would happen. Maybe if it'd happened in September… We've just lost what might have been our only opportunity to learn about where she really came from. Dr. Ngo: Maybe not. If this is really connected to [EXPUNGED], she might remember some day at random. But since we have no way of knowing, we need to deal with the here and now instead. Dr. Blank: Meaning we need to figure out who this woman really is. Dr. Ngo: Meaning your daughter needs to speak with her parents. Where's Melissa? Dr. Blank: Grand Bend. Said she needed to get some things from her old house. Dr. Ngo: You believe her? Dr. Blank: Of course not. I'm her husband. Dr. Ngo: I'll make an appointment. See if I can't talk her through the difficulties. Dr. Blank: You think that'll work? <Dr. Ngo smiles.> Dr. Ngo: Of course not. I'm her therapist. <Transcript ends.> Dr. Blank requested, and received, permission to continue SCP-8056's intake interviews within the Site-43 topside interdiction zone (the former Ipperwash Provincial Park). Special dispensation was made for this activity, as the inspections still in progress had revealed significant vulnerabilities in the Site's security infrastructure, both topside and below. Observed by a covert security detail, Dr. Blank and SCP-8056 met in a forest clearing. Followup Interview: SCP-8056 Interviewer: Dr. Harold R. Blank, Archives and Revision (Chair) <Transcript begins.> <SCP-8056 is observing the parkland with apparent suspicion, hugging herself and twitching at distant birdsong.> <Dr. Blank approaches.> Dr. Blank: What's wrong? <SCP-8056 is startled. She moves to approach Dr. Blank, changes her mind, and stares at him instead.> SCP-8056: The forest. Dr. Blank: What about it? SCP-8056: I don't know. It's like… I've never seen it before. Not like this. Dr. Blank: Okay. What seems off to you? SCP-8056 in Ipperwash Park. SCP-8056: Everything. The trees, the grass, the… sounds. The… <Dr. Blank swats at the air.> Dr. Blank: The bugs? I fucking hate mosquitos. <SCP-8056 begins to weep.> Dr. Blank: Oh. Hey. Hey! It's alright. <He moves to approach SCP-8056, but stops short of reaching out.> <SCP-8056 wrenches away, as though she has been touched.> SCP-8056: It's not alright! It's not alright! Dr. Blank: We'll figure it out. It just takes time. Take a deep breath. SCP-8056: Fuck you. <Dr. Blank laughs. SCP-8056 narrows her eyes.> SCP-8056: What? Dr. Blank: Nothing. It's just easier to believe you're my daughter when you curse me out. <SCP-8056's expression softens.> SCP-8056: You really don't remember. Dr. Blank: No. But maybe you can refresh me. <Dr. Blank gestures at a gravel path.> Dr. Blank: Go for a walk? It's a nice day out. <SCP-8056 continues to hug herself, despite the summer warmth.> SCP-8056: I guess. <The pair walk for several minutes in silence.> SCP-8056: We've done this before. Dr. Blank: Yeah? SCP-8056: Yeah. Lots of times. And… <She shakes her head.> SCP-8056: And no times. I'm confused. Dr. Blank: Let's try something. Imagine you've got two boxes in your brain. SCP-8056: Archival boxes. Dr. Blank: Exactly. <Dr. Blank pauses.> Dr. Blank: Are you an archivist? Is that what you remember? <SCP-8056 nods.> Dr. Blank: That's… that's good. That makes sense. Okay, you've got two archival boxes in your head. The things you're remembering and feeling, each of them goes in only one of those boxes. SCP-8056: This reality, and whatever the other one is. Dr. Blank: Right. SCP-8056: Okay. Dr. Blank: I'll help you figure out what goes where. You just need to tell me what you're thinking about. SCP-8056: Okay. I don't really know where to start, though. Dr. Blank: You're a Foundation researcher? SCP-8056: Yes. Dr. Blank: What sorts of stuff have you worked on? <SCP-8056 smiles briefly.> SCP-8056: Everything you work on. I'm your research assistant. <Dr. Blank smiles.> Dr. Blank: Of course you are. Let's hear some examples. SCP-8056: Okay. Well… the 001 file. Dr. Blank: Which one? Not the Frontispiece? SCP-8056: No, the other one. [REDACTED]. Dr. Blank: That's… very high clearance. SCP-8056: You trust me. Dr. Blank: I would. <He shakes his head.> Dr. Blank: It'd be nice to have help with that one. Feels like it's never getting done otherwise. SCP-8056: You miss Dr. Pickman. Dr. Blank: I told you that? SCP-8056: You didn't have to. <They walk in silence again.> SCP-8056: I did the background research on Sara Lee Guthrie. Dr. Blank: Probably the weakest part of the article. Could've used that help, too. <Dr. Blank pats the trunk of the nearest tree as they pass it.> Dr. Blank: Those things belong in this box. The baseline box. SCP-8056: But you don't remember them. Dr. Blank: No, I don't. They pertain to things I do remember, though. <SCP-8056 sighs.> SCP-8056: I hate this. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this. Dr. Blank: So let's not belabour it. Did you work on any projects of your own? SCP-8056: Yeah. I'm the one who figured out that Welsh politician was a sapient lump of plagioclase. <Dr. Blank stops walking. SCP-8056 stops as well.> Dr. Blank: What? SCP-8056: What? Dr. Blank: Which Welsh politician? SCP-8056: Oh. You didn't…? Dr. Blank: No? SCP-8056: Oh. Well. Guess that might be one for the other box. Dr. Blank: Guess so. Maybe we need three boxes. SCP-8056: Baseline, my memories, and my other memories. Dr. Blank: Yeah. SCP-8056: Still, I'll give you the politician's name. Something to look into when we get back to the Point— the Site. <SCP-8056 laughs ruefully.> SCP-8056: Fuck. Where did that come from. <SCP-8056 shakes her head.> SCP-8056: Have I told you I hate this yet? We're not getting anywhere. Dr. Blank: Nhung would say that human relationships are processes, not events. SCP-8056: I guess. Does that mean more walks in the woods? Dr. Blank: Certainly. And probably around the Site, too. See what triggers your memories, both kinds. Anything for the far-out box? Anything that just seems wrong? <SCP-8056 scans the treeline.> SCP-8056: All the trees are dead. Should be dead. Were dead. Dr. Blank: In the park, you mean? <SCP-8056 shakes her head.> Dr. Blank: Oh. Okay. Uh. SCP-8056: I'm just getting faint impressions. Dr. Blank: I might be able to help with that. We've got quite a few records from alternate realities. Maybe some of them match what you're sensing. SCP-8056: Except they'll never let you share that stuff with me. <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: Because I'm a skip. <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: Let's keep walking. Dr. Blank: Only thing for it. <Transcript ends.> Subsequent investigation by the Archives and Revision Section and CLIO-1 researchers in the United Kingdom determined that Andrew RT Davies, leader of the Welsh Conservative Group in the Senedd, was indeed a sapient lump of plagioclase projecting a cognitohazardous human front. Containment efforts were coordinated with Site-91, and SCP classification is pending. Addendum 8056-4, Reproductive Report: The following was submitted to SCP-8056's HCML supervisor following replication studies of the relevant tests, as ordered by the Temporal Anomalies Department. Reproductive Capacity Report: Dr. Harold R. Blank, Dr. Melissa Bradbury Dr. H. Forsythe, CMO, Site-43 Dr. Bradbury is presently 47 years of age, two years past the threshold where unassisted pregnancy becomes unlikely. Dr. Blank is presently 58 years of age, although as a result of advanced Foundation medical treatment his physical age is approximately 48. This places him past the fertility threshold as well. For unknown reasons, potentially as one result of her exposure to SCP-5056 and the resultant trauma, Dr. Bradbury also suffers from primary ovarian insufficiency. It is my medical opinion that this partnership is incapable of producing offspring, even with medical intervention, whether said intervention is mundane or paratechnological. In receipt of the above, the Temporal Anomalies Department nevertheless issued a direct order to all affected parties forbidding the attempted creation of SCP-8056 in baseline temporality. After repeated demands for response, both Dr. Blank and Dr. Bradbury acknowledged receipt of this directive. Addendum 8056-5, Related Counselling Session: While the interrogation of SCP-8056's personal history continued, Dr. Ngo scheduled counselling sessions with Dr. Blank and Dr. Bradbury. The latter claimed administrative privilege, and refused. A partial transcript of the former's counselling session is appended below. Counselling Record Subject: Harold R. Blank (Chair, Archives and Revision Section, Site-43) Officer of Record: Dr. Nhung Ngo (Chair, Psychology and Parapsychology Section, Site-43) <Excerpt begins.> Dr. Blank: I've always wanted to have kids eventually. Just never now. Never any time soon. Never within a year or two from the present moment. Dr. Blank. Dr. Ngo: You've had things to do. Dr. Blank: Not even that. You ever have that thing… You can't enjoy right now, because you're worried about later? Dr. Ngo: I know what you mean by that. Dr. Blank: Right. This is how I spend most interims, thinking about how finite they are. How much time I have left before they end. Having a kid, that puts a timer on so many things. Getting enough sleep. Having privacy. Working on your career. Seeing friends. It locks you in to a whole new kind of life, and locks you out of the one you had before. I've never been ready for that. Never had enough sleep that I'd be willing to start waking up to a screaming baby at every hour. Never had enough time to myself that a few years of being permanently on call started to sound appealing. Dr. Ngo: So you delayed. Dr. Blank: I guess. Melissa wasn't in a good place anyway, and I was waiting for her. Not that this is her fault. Or even a fault. I just… wasn't ever ready. You know… I used to fantasize about getting to skip the hard work. Dr. Ngo: What do you mean? Dr. Blank: Not having to lose sleep or sacrifice my free time or change diapers… Nhung, I have OCD, I will never under any circumstances change a fucking diaper — but still having a kid. Dr. Ngo: Like, hiring a nanny? Dr. Blank: No, just not having to be there for the painful stuff. Dr. Ngo: Like that Adam Sandler movie. Dr. Blank: That is an unconscionable comparison to make to someone's fantasy. But yes. And no. I imagined, what if some old girlfriend had my baby and never told me? I'd have my legacy, and I wouldn't have had to put in the effort to make sure it took. Dr. Ngo: You'd miss a lot. Dr. Blank: Yeah. First words, first steps, report cards and birthdays and Christmas. Colic and the terrible twos and having to give The Talk. Graduations. Dr. Ngo: I meant the processes more than the events. The formative years for the parental bond. They wouldn't even know you. You'd never be like their true parent. People don't form those connections the same way when they're adults. Dr. Blank: Yeah. And I wouldn't want to tell her I wasn't there for all that because I need at least nine hours of sleep every night. Dr. Ngo: Does the idea make you feel guilty? Dr. Blank: I guess. It's not a very nice thing to wish on a kid, even a fictional one. They'd probably end up hating me. Dr. Ngo: Now you're on Star Trek II. Dr. Blank: Yeah. Now I am. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Blank: Why the movie comparisons all of a sudden? Dr. Ngo: Because you're obviously not interested in engaging with this situation in real terms. Dr. Blank: What? Dr. Ngo: Jennifer isn't your fantasy of a fait accompli daughter you didn't have to raise. She's a real person, and she's suffering from all this ambiguity. Dr. Blank: I'm going to see her again. Dr. Ngo: Today? Dr. Blank: Sure. Today. Why not? Dr. Ngo: You're sure you wouldn't rather go to sleep? Or have some alone time? Dr. Blank: You're very aggressive for a therapist. Dr. Ngo: This isn't therapy. It's counselling. My counsel is to get out there and talk to her while she still wants to talk. <Excerpt ends.> Addendum 8056-6, Quantum Supermechanics Consult: During the above interviews, the Quantum Supermechanics Section of Site-43 was engaged in extensive collaboration with the Department of Temporal Anomalies and Dr. Ilse Reynders to determine the feasibility of returning SCP-8056 to her native temporality. The Temporal Anomalies Department rejected all consultation requests..The DTA's jurisdiction covers local timeline discrepancies, while the TAD is concerned with multiversal timeplane stability. A transcript of the final presentation to Director McInnis is attached below. <Transcript begins.> Dr. Du: We can't send her back. Dir. McInnis: No? Dr. Du: No. Not even if we knew where she came from, in a useful sense. Dr. Reynders: We know where she came from in a useless sense. We know some of the attributes of her reality. But that's like knowing someone comes from a city where the skyscrapers are so many storeys tall, and the civic flag has a stripe in it. Not enough to go on. Dr. Du: At least, not without a database of such things. And if the curt responses I've been getting to my enquiries are anything to go by, TAD either hasn't got one of those or doesn't want me seeing it. Dir. McInnis: But you're saying it wouldn't matter anyway. Dr. Du: Right. Because we aren't talking about an alternate timeline or an alternate Earth. We're talking about another version of this Earth. One that doesn't even exist anymore. Probably. Dir. McInnis: Probably. Dr. Reynders: It's like how you can't send your consciousness into the version of you who existed last year. You don't share many cells with that guy. You aren't cell mates, if you'll excuse the pun. Dir. McInnis: With reluctance. Dr. Reynders: It's an instructive pun. You can't reach out and touch that other you, because they aren't really other at all. They're just you, on a tangent. Like your subconscious plugging away on a problem while your conscious mind has the reins. Dir. McInnis: How far does that metaphor go? Are these time-tangents still extant, only submerged? Or are they truly dead, as Dr. Du seems to be saying? Dr. Du: I suspect that [EXPUNGED] has progressed to the point where the nature of reality is so fungible that past possible states are occasionally asserting themselves, piecemeal. Reality's pores are opening, we're seeing what lies beneath, and then it scabs over. I can't imagine that seven different versions of this universe still exist simultaneously..Containment of SCP-5243 has failed six times, producing six one-year tangent timelines. That would be outrageously unstable. Dr. Reynders: Although that might explain [EXPUNGED]. Could even be the root cause. Dr. Du: For our present purposes, though, that doesn't matter. What matters is that there's only one known way to pass between these tangents and baseline, and that's SCP-5243. Dr. Reynders: Specifically, messing up its conprocs. Dr. Du: And that only works for Sampi-5243, and even then only for a year. Dr. Reynders: TAD agents have jumpwatches. We don't know how they work, and they're not telling. But we do have anecdotal evidence which suggests they can only hop between discrete timelines. Whatever membrane separates these tangents, it isn't permeable in that manner. Dir. McInnis: Meaning, to paraphrase what you already said, our guest can never go home. Dr. Du: That's right. Dr. Reynders: Yes. Unfortunately. Dir. McInnis: Quite. Dr. Du: Why unfortunately? Dr. Reynders: Because it might worsen [EXPUNGED] to have a rogue variable from an outside context in baseline. If there's one thing nature abhors more than a vacuum, it's a thing out of place. Dir. McInnis: And nature's abhorrence pales beside that of the Overseers. Addendum 8056-7: On 27 May 2024, the Department of Temporal Anomalies recused itself from further consultation on the matter of SCP-8056. Its final report is appended below. Department of Temporal Anomalies Report: SCP-8056 On 10/31/2022, Drs. Polyxeni Mataxas and Mali Wattana of the Spectrometry and Spectremetry Section of Site-43 encountered a temporal anomaly in The Ward Cemetery near Grand Bend, Ontario, Canada. Both researchers rapidly transitioned through multiple anomalous spaces geographically congruent with the cemetery but wildly variable in contents, makeup, and survivability. Subsequent analysis has determined that six of these variants can be mapped with a high degree of confidence to the six known tangent realities created by SCP-5243. Said tangents are only known to have existed for a single calendar year in each case, corresponding to the years in which the containment procedures for SCP-5243 were enacted incorrectly. Nevertheless, the researchers would appear from contextual clues to have visited each tangent during a period of time in which each tangent was not known to have existed, ranging from the near to the far future. Tangent 5243-A, code named "Playing Gods," was visited at some point in the late 2050s. The researchers briefly encountered a woman in early middle age, who was in the process of visiting the shared grave of Dr. Harold Blank and Dr. Melissa Bradbury. Both researchers were amnesticized after being debriefed about their experience, as it was quickly determined to have been one facet of the ongoing [EXPUNGED] which constitutes the primary research and containment initiative of Site-43 at this time, classified at the highest level. Nevertheless, the description they were able to give is fully consistent with the physical appearance of SCP-8056, when accounting for two decades' worth of aging. This would appear to be empirical confirmation that SCP-8056 originates in Tangent 5243-A, and also further confirmation that elements of these otherwise dead alternate realities may assert themselves in baseline temporality as a result of [EXPUNGED]. Reports that random, unexplained variables are interfering with security operations at Site-43 may also represent ontokinetic bleed related to [EXPUNGED]. It is my recommendation that extensive research into the origins and nature of SCP-8056 be conducted by the researchers presently managing her file, so that we might better understand this crisis as it unfolds. As the present anomaly is of multiversal origin, however, I am forced to concede that my department's jurisdiction is superseded by that of the Temporal Anomalies Department. This report will therefore be my final statement on the matter, unless Director Xyank (or whoever is fulfilling his duties in his presumed absence) sees fit to consult me further. — Alice Forth, Director, Department of Temporal Anomalies Addendum 8056-8, Replication Studies Consult: Extensive interdisciplinary collaboration was attempted to further understand the nature of SCP-8056. One such consult, between Dr. Blank and Dr. Bastien LeBlanc of the Replication Studies Subsection, is transcribed below. <Transcript begins.> Dr. Blank: I don't think we can replicate this. Dr. LeBlanc: Huh? Oh. No, that's not what the consult is about. Dr. Blank: Okay. Dr. LeBlanc: In fact, as I understand it, replicating the anomaly is— Dr. Blank: Against regs. Yeah. I didn't mean that joke as an entrée into talking about my reproductive system. Bad enough that the article talks shit about my waterworks. Dr. LeBlanc: Uh… yeah. Sorry. That does suck. Dr. Blank: What did you want to talk about? Dr. LeBlanc: Myself. Dr. Blank: What particularly? Dr. LeBlanc: What it's like to have a temporal anomaly pull you out of your context and dump you where nobody's ever heard of you..Dr. LeBlanc encountered a temporal anomaly in his sixteenth year which transported him from the year 1966 to the year 2006. Dr. Blank: Ah. Yeah. Dr. LeBlanc: You and I have something in common. Dr. Blank: Besides the name, you mean. Dr. LeBlanc: We both know what it's like to wake up in a world we don't recognize, where we don't really belong. You've had that happen a few times. But you didn't have to stay there. I did. And your daughter, it looks like she will too. Dr. Blank: I see the parallel. Dr. LeBlanc: One minute, I'm falling down a well. Next minute, I'm crawling back out. Minute after that, I'm at ground level again. That's my perspective. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, though, somewhere in between those minutes half a century got lost. Dr. Blank: Is that why you left Sloth's Pit? Dr. LeBlanc: Trying to get ahead of me? In my own trauma narrative? Dr. Blank: Sorry. It's just… I guess I'm getting impatient about all these illustrative stories people want to tell me. I'm sick of my own stories, even. Not a very good historian right now. Go on. Dr. LeBlanc: Well, you hit it on the head anyway. I did leave the Pit, eventually, because of what came next. And I wish I could tell you I regret it, but I don't. Because I learned something about myself, and my situation, by doing that. Dr. Blank: Okay. Dr. LeBlanc: It sucks when nobody knows who you are. It sucks when you're completely alone. It feels like you have no backup when you're down, like nobody will be there to catch you when you fall. It feels that way no matter where you are. But it's so much worse in familiar surroundings. Dr. Blank: Why? Dr. LeBlanc: Because being a stranger in a strange land makes sense. There's a fitness to it. Being a stranger in your home, though? That's a little like going mad. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Blank: Have you ever known anyone with dementia? Dr. LeBlanc: No… Dr. Blank: I have. When it's someone you care about, it's like… the familiar becoming unfamiliar. Not just for them, but for you. It seems like the person you know, but they're saying things, doing things, that you know the person you know would never say or do. And that feels like… I dunno. Like falling down a well. Like losing your home. Like your home not recognizing you. Dr. LeBlanc: I don't want to diminish that, but I think this situation is even… Not worse, obviously I wouldn't say worse, but harder to wrap your mind around. People getting sick and forgetting you? That's terrible. People treating you like a stranger, like you don't belong, when you know you do? That's… Dr. Blank: Gaslighting. Dr. LeBlanc: Only it's the universe gaslighting you. Gaslighting everybody. Those people are right to believe what they believe. And so are you, even though there's no way the two things should be true at the same time. Dr. Blank: It sucks. Dr. LeBlanc: It does. Dr. Blank: Would you say you've, if not gotten over it, found a way to handle it? Live with it? Dr. LeBlanc: Yeah, I think I have. Dr. Blank: How? Dr. LeBlanc: The problem was a break in the narrative. The narrative of my life. So I started a new one. The people that I knew were gone. So I found new people. Dr. Blank: What if the old people had still been around? Would you have wanted to rebuild what you had? Dr. LeBlanc: I have no idea if I would have wanted that. Dr. Blank: Okay. Dr. LeBlanc: But you know what I did want, more than anything? Dr. Blank: What? Dr. LeBlanc: To be able to make that decision. To decide for myself if I wanted to try. <Transcript ends.> Addendum 8056-9, Decommissioning Proposal: Though still rejecting requests for consultation, the Temporal Anomalies Department had apparently opened a file of its own on SCP-8056. On 29 May 2024, the following proposal was forwarded by Assistant Director Aoife Konjit of the TAD to Director Calvin Bold of the Decommissioning Department. SCP Object Decommissioning Proposal Form Item #: SCP-8056 Head Researcher: N/A Supporting Personnel: Assistant Director Aoife Konjit - Representing Temporal Anomalies Department Please check off or fill in the applicable boxes regarding the reasons for submitting your proposal: ☑ Excessively High Risk of Lifted Veil Scenario ☑ Excessive Danger ☑ Ability to Decom. Apollyon-Class Object ☑ Expense ☑ Ethical Concerns Over Necessary Containment ☑ Legal Concerns ☑ High Risk of K-Class Scenario (if so, please state which type(s): AK, CK, IK, LV, OK, PK, TK, UK, XK, ZK, ÞK) ☑ Other (please state): Subject represents a potential point of failure in the interstitial multiversal membrane. Summary: Subject is an undocumented extradimensional alien. It is unattested in any governmental database, and its attestation would be a costly and dangerous venture with no clear benefit. Its discovery by parties beyond the Foundation risks the integrity of the Veil of Normalcy. Its person represents an obvious error in the sorting algorithm of baseline temporality, a loophole which must be closed. Maintaining the illusion that this subject belongs in baseline temporality is tantamount to gaslighting, an abuse forbidden by Ethics Committee guidelines without special dispensation. Its presence may be interpreted as a violation of the ban on cross-timeline trade outlined in the Multi-Foundation Pact of 1981, endangering your local Foundation's membership in the Multi-Foundation Coalition itself. Its presence is a known violation of Temporal Anomalies Department Guidelines. If its continued existence is allowed, the fabric of space time may be subject to unknown stresses potentially leading to any manner of catastrophic K-class events. At the very least, the ongoing security snafu at Site-43 is almost certainly linked to this subject's presence. It must be decommissioned posthaste. — Assistant Director A. Konjit Director Bold responded the following day: Decommissioning Department Proposal Response In all my years at the DeD, never once has a more frivolous and histrionic proposal crossed my desk. Every box is checked — I can only assume by "Ability to Decom. Apollyon-Class Object" the petitioner means that we are capable of killing a baseline human being who is, according to them, capable of initiating almost every K-class scenario I've ever heard of. (LV-Class Lifted Veil Scenario is not only not K-class, by the way, it's already covered by the first checkbox.) The alarmism on display here is, frankly, alarming; I have been over Dr. Ngo's research files (the decision to imply that SCP-8056 has no Head Researcher is particularly petty and misleading) and find nothing there to support a single one of the above claims. As the Temporal Anomalies Department is unable to provide me with concrete evidence backing their rationale for this course of action — and as my correspondence with Chief Kuroki of Site-43's security force leads me to believe there is no correlation between SCP-8056 and the "security snafu" alluded to here — I am unable to provide them with an endorsement for said course. Since I am also unable to achieve contact with Director Xyank, the matter has been forwarded to the Overseer Council for mediation. — Dir. Calvin Bold, Decommissioning Department Addendum 8056-10, Research Partnership Consult: Drs. Blank and Bradbury finally consulted on the matter of SCP-8056 on 05/30/2024, resulting in the interactions transcribed below. <Transcript begins.> Dr. Bradbury: We're on the record? Dr. Bradbury. Dr. Blank: We're a test case. This is a new one for the books. Dr. Bradbury: Hooray. Dr. Blank: You don't have to talk it through with me. We don't have to transcribe it all. Dr. Bradbury: I think we do? Otherwise I'll never agree to go through with it. I need the push. Dr. Blank: Okay. Dr. Bradbury: Okay. Dr. Blank: Are you waiting for me to…? Dr. Bradbury: Do it like an interview log. Ask me what my deal is. Dr. Blank: Why won't you meet with her, Melissa? Dr. Bradbury: Because you and I wasted our lives. Dr. Blank: O…kay. Dr. Bradbury: I sat in my house, and you sat in your office, and we let the best years of our lives slip by, and now we're fat and old and useless. Dr. Blank: You're not fat. And they were the worst years of my life, actually. Dr. Bradbury: That's what I mean. They shouldn't have been. Dr. Blank: We're making up for it now. Dr. Bradbury: Are we? That girl— Dr. Blank: Woman. Dr. Bradbury: That woman, her parents changed their world. They made it better, for her. They achieved so much, under so much pressure. What have I achieved? Dr. Blank: You clawed your way back to normal from a long way down. You kicked ass. Dr. Bradbury: I cried myself to sleep so many times, I lost the capacity for tears. I telecommuted until my legs almost atrophied. You were saving the world, but when I finally saw you again? You'd had a week's worth of personal development that took you hundreds of times too long. Dr. Blank: Hey. Dr. Bradbury: Most people don't wait until middle age to knock on their crush's door. Dr. Blank: There were mitigating circumstances, if you'll recall. Dr. Bradbury: Not that mitigating. We waited twenty years, Harry. Dr. Blank: Not quite twenty. Dr. Bradbury: Longer, actually. A quarter century. We should have been together when the new millennium struck. For us, it didn't mean anything. A new millennium, and it didn't mean anything. Dr. Blank: They never mean anything. Nothing more than we pretend they mean. Dr. Bradbury: We had more than twenty years to make that human being exist, Harry. And we didn't. Dr. Blank: Okay. Dr. Bradbury: And you've met her. You've talked to her. You killed her, do you understand? I killed her too. We killed our daughter. Dr. Blank: Don't go getting pro-life on me. <Dr. Bradbury laughs.> Dr. Bradbury: I hate how you do that. Dr. Blank: Do what? Dr. Bradbury: Trivialize things to defuse them. Dr. Blank: It was already trivial, Mel. We didn't kill her. That woman I've been talking to? She isn't our daughter. She's theirs. And they lived very different lives. They're different people. Dr. Bradbury: The potential for her existed in this universe. In us. Dr. Blank: So what? Dr. Bradbury: So what? Dr. Blank: Yeah! Do you think we have some moral responsibility to reproduce, literally reproduce every potential person we're aware of in the multiverse? Dr. Bradbury: No, but— Dr. Blank: Because we know now that we could have had a child, it's morally wrong that we didn't then? Dr. Bradbury: No… Dr. Blank: Then what? What is this argument? What's so terrible about the road we took? Just that it didn't lead to her? <Silence on recording.> Dr. Blank: Melissa, it wasn't your fault. Dr. Bradbury: I know. Dr. Blank: Your body didn't do this. Neither did mine. We can regret our choices, but we can't blame ourselves for them. For wanting what we wanted. Dr. Bradbury: I know! Dr. Blank: And the other versions of us had so much more reason to bring a child into the world. They were never separated. That Melissa was never attacked. Their world was depopulated. They were together, and they had a moral imperative. We were apart, and we prioritized other things. We had that luxury, even though it didn't feel like one. Dr. Bradbury: I know all of this, Harry. I know it. But this isn't about me. Dr. Blank: No? Dr. Bradbury: No. Sort of. No. Dr. Blank: I don't understand. Dr. Bradbury: What do you think she sees when she looks at you? What would she see when she looks at me? Dr. Blank: Her parents? Dr. Bradbury: No. Dr. Blank: What, then? Dr. Bradbury: Two people who had the chance to become her parents — two people who had the opportunity to bring her into existence — and decided they had better things to do. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Bradbury: We aren't looking at a road less travelled. We're looking at the loser of a contest for our attention. And she knows that's what she is. Dr. Blank: She… knows she could easily have never existed in her world, either. Knows she was never inevitable. Was never better than unlikely. She knows there's a point at which she could have been wanted so little, she would never have been born. In a way more precise than any of us could ever know. Dr. Bradbury: That's right. Dr. Blank: Well. Dr. Bradbury: Yeah. Dr. Blank: It seems to me there's an obvious way to address this problem. Dr. Bradbury: Do tell. Dr. Blank: Show her she's wanted now. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Blank: You know what I think? Dr. Bradbury: Something stupid, probably. Dr. Blank: I think you're just mad I impregnated another woman. <Dr. Bradbury laughs, and shoves Dr. Blank.> Dr. Bradbury: Fuck off! Asshole! <Transcript ends.> Addendum 8056-11, Ethics Committee Report: Prior to the above, Assistant Director Konjit of the TAD attempted a further circumvention of the command hierarchy by contacting the Ethics Committee. She received a response the following day, reproduced below. Ethics Committee Report: SCP-8056 The Temporal Anomalies Department has appealed the Decommissioning Department's ruling on SCP-8056 to this office. Given that: Subject is a baseline human being; Subject possesses no overt anomalous qualities: Subject is emotionally linked to two senior researchers; Subject's maintenance poses no significant resource drain; Subject may be the single surviving representative of a tangent reality; It is the opinion of this liaison that subject's decommissioning would represent a breach of Ethics Committee regulations. — Dr. Eileen Veiksaar, Ethics Committee Liaison, Site-43 Concurring: — Dr. Jeremiah Cimmerian, Ethics Committee — Dr. Odongo Tejani, Ethics Committee (Chair) Addendum 8056-12: In order to further establish a rapport with SCP-8056 and determine her personal chronology in a less stressful setting, Drs. Blank and Bradbury accompanied her to Crabby Joe's Bar and Grill in Grand Bend for a dinner reservation. Transcribed audio of this event is excerpted below. Date: 06/02/2024 Officers of Record: Dr. H. Blank (Chair, Archives and Revision Section, Site-43), Dr. M. Bradbury (Chair, Research and Experimentation Section, Site-43) <Excerpts begin.> <Audio consistent with a mid-size franchise restaurant during the dinner rush hour.> SCP-8056: This is so weird. Dr. Blank: Right? SCP-8056: I mean, for me. I've never been to one of these before. Dr. Bradbury: Stronger minds than ours have been broken by the experience of a Crabby Joe's. Dr. Blank: I think she means— SCP-8056: A restaurant. Yeah. Any restaurant. Dr. Bradbury: Oh. Wow. Dr. Blank: Something for the… other box. SCP-8056: Ugh. Yeah. I'm getting confused again, sorry. I've definitely been to a restaurant before. What the hell am I talking about? Unknown: For three? Dr. Blank: Yeah. We've got a reservation, under Blank. Unknown: Under…? Dr. Blank: Blank. Like, the name. <Unknown laughter.> Unknown: I didn't know that was a name. Dr. Bradbury: Imagine how I felt. Unknown: Okay, they're just cleaning the table. It'll be a couple minutes, tops. Dr. Blank: No problem. SCP-8056: Were they always this busy? Dr. Blank: I honestly don't remember. SCP-8056: Why not? Whose favorite restaurant is this? Dr. Blank: Nobody's, I think. SCP-8056: Wow. Dr. Bradbury: All of our favorite restaurants are closed. SCP-8056: Why? Dr. Blank: Same reason we don't know if they're normally this busy. We haven't been in a real restaurant since COVID started. SCP-8056: Ohhhh. Shit. I knew that. Dr. Blank: Yeah. SCP-8056: So we're in the same boat! Dr. Bradbury: Hooray! <Audio consistent with a more enclosed space in the same restaurant. Sounds of cutlery and consumption.> SCP-8056: Do you still have that boat? Dr. Blank: Boat? SCP-8056: Our sailboat. The one we vacation on. Dr. Blank: Oh. Well, no. Sold it years ago. SCP-8056: Really? The flat one? Dr. Blank: Yeah. I still think about it, though. A lot. SCP-8056: You have those nightmares. Dr. Blank: I do. SCP-8056: They were getting worse… Dr. Blank: They're still getting worse. Yes. SCP-8056: I guess you probably get nightmares too, eh? Dr. Bradbury: Cheerful dinner conversation topic. SCP-8056: It's all I could think of. <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: I'm gonna miss that boat. Dr. Blank: We could rent one. SCP-8056: Wouldn't be the same. Dr. Bradbury: Nothing ever is. <Audio consistent with the same space, though ambient sound has decreased in volume and frequency. Sounds of cutlery and consumption are less frequent.> Dr. Bradbury: Why do you know about the nightmares? SCP-8056: Huh? Dr. Bradbury: My nightmares. Why do you know about them? SCP-8056: I don't understand the question. Dr. Bradbury: I was attacked? By 5056? SCP-8056: Of course. Dr. Blank: And yet you were born. <SCP-8056 frowns.> SCP-8056: It kind of… hurts. When I try to think about it. But I know you were only out for a little while. And as soon as you were back, the two of you… well. <SCP-8056 frowns.> SCP-8056: You know. Dr. Bradbury: Yeah. Dr. Blank: Yeah, we know that part. So, we were together in 2003? SCP-8056: Of course. Dr. Bradbury: Mmm. Dr. Blank: I wonder what made the difference. Dr. Bradbury: Nothing made the difference. This never happened. Dr. Blank: Melissa. SCP-8056: It's okay. She's telling the truth. I need to get used to it. Dr. Blank: You've still got your memories. Happy memories, I hope. SCP-8056: Most of them. Dr. Bradbury: Only most of them? SCP-8056: It wasn't always easy. Dr. Blank: No? SCP-8056: No. You guys… Well, never mind. Dr. Blank: You know we have to mind. <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: You fought a lot. Dr. Bradbury: Really? SCP-8056: Yeah. Kind of… All the time. When I was a kid. Dr. Blank: Why? What about? SCP-8056: Mom was always very sad. Always having those nightmares. And not always at night. She didn't want to do anything. You felt like… I'm sorry. This feels wrong. Dr. Bradbury: Keep going. SCP-8056: Dad felt like we weren't enough. For you to get out of bed in the morning. It took him a long time to realize that just because you were still with us, didn't mean you were okay. Dr. Bradbury: Ever the optimist. Dr. Blank: How long did it take? For things to actually get better? SCP-8056: Years. <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: A lot of years. Dr. Bradbury: Well. I guess it's sort of nice to know it wasn't a paradise. Dr. Blank: I just kinda thought… Dr. Bradbury: I know. SCP-8056: Nothing fixes everything. And it's nobody's fault. <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: It took me a long time to figure that last part out. <Audio is consistent with the previous excerpt.> Dr. Blank: So, you heard they can't send you back. SCP-8056: Yeah. Dr. Blank: How do you feel about that? SCP-8056: How do you feel about that? Dr. Blank: Pretty good, actually. SCP-8056: Mom? Dr. Bradbury: Of course it's a relief. SCP-8056: Of course. Dr. Bradbury: I mean it. SCP-8056: What reason would I have to doubt you? Dr. Bradbury: You could try answering your father's question. SCP-8056: I feel relieved too. But not for the same reason. Dr. Blank: You don't remember being from there. SCP-8056: Right. Dr. Bradbury: So they don't really mean anything to you. The people you left behind. SCP-8056: Right. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Blank: What's wrong? SCP-8056: I feel sick. Dr. Bradbury: Something you ate? SCP-8056: Probably not. Sweet potato fries have never backed up on me before. At least as far as I know. For what little that's worth. Dr. Blank: I get it. SCP-8056: No you don't. Dr. Blank: I really do. I've forgotten entire worlds before. Six times. SCP-8056: Worlds you visited. Never the world you're from. <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: It's completely gone, isn't it? Dr. Blank: Yes. SCP-8056: What am I supposed to do with that information? Dr. Blank: I don't know. Dr. Bradbury: Archive it, I suppose. SCP-8056: What? Dr. Bradbury: You're an archivist. Like your father. Do what comes naturally. Remember. SCP-8056: The point of archiving something is that you think it might someday become useful. Dr. Bradbury: You never know. Dr. Blank: There's enough possibilities out there to fill… Well, at least half a dozen realities. One thing I've had to come to terms with is that this thing, the thing that brought us together, never really ends. Dr. Bradbury: Until it does. SCP-8056: It ended for my parents. Dr. Blank: I'm sure they'd be pleased that it didn't end for you. SCP-8056: I can sympathize without empathizing. Dr. Blank: I hope you don't mean that. SCP-8056: I think I'm entitled to a little self-pity. I'm the last daughter of Krypton. Dr. Blank: There's a thought. SCP-8056: Eh? Dr. Blank: Maybe they sent you here. Maybe you're here for a reason. SCP-8056: Maybe you're Ma and Pa Kent, you mean? Dr. Bradbury: I would give anything to have Diane Lane's hair. Dr. Blank: We don't talk about Man of Steel in this household. SCP-8056: You really think I could be here because of them? Something they did? Dr. Blank: You were talking about a breach, when you arrived. But the only thing, literally the single only thing that came through was you. That seems oddly targeted. Dr. Bradbury: There's all those glitches… Dr. Blank: I honestly don't see the connection. SCP-8056: I don't suppose there's any way to find out if that's what happened. The whole… sent me here, that thing. If my parents had something to do with it. There's no way to know for sure. Right? Dr. Bradbury: Nope. SCP-8056: I guess it's as good an explanation as any. For now. Dr. Blank: Good enough that you can choke down the rest of your steak? SCP-8056: Eye it all you want. You already had yours. Dr. Blank: A good steak is just… You don't realize you were missing it, until you've got it. <Ambient audio has further decreased. Cutlery and consumption sounds have ceased, save for the occasional consumption of fluids.> SCP-8056 at Crabby Joe's. Dr. Blank: Did we ever tell you anything about our work, Jennifer? The stuff you weren't technically cleared for? SCP-8056: Not really. I know you guys were working on some weird, top secret thing. Something really dangerous and important. But you never told me what it was. Dr. Bradbury: Any suspicions? SCP-8056: It had you guys really freaked out. Dr. Blank: When was this? SCP-8056: Last couple of years. Dr. Blank: Was there ever a time in your memory that we were totally happy? SCP-8056: Was there ever a time in yours? Dr. Bradbury: How about you? Were you happy? SCP-8056: I think I was. I think we all were, in our own ways. Are you guys happy now? Dr. Blank: Yes. Dr. Bradbury: Yes. SCP-8056: Without me. Dr. Blank: And with you. Dr. Bradbury: Mmm. SCP-8056: Mmm. Dr. Bradbury: Yes. With you. Dr. Blank: It was [EXPUNGED]. We were working on [EXPUNGED]. Stopping it. Dr. Bradbury: Harry! Dr. Blank: She's going to know about it soon enough. Everyone is. Dr. Bradbury: Still, we're in public. Dr. Blank: They probably think I'm talking about the next election. SCP-8056: [EXPUNGED]. That… explains a lot. Yeah. Dr. Blank: So it happens in every version of our reality, then. Dr. Bradbury: ███ ██████ ████ ████. SCP-8056: George Harrison. Dr. Blank: We ever listen to the Traveling Wilburys? SCP-8056: Hell yeah. Dr. Blank: Always made me feel like things were going to turn out for the best. SCP-8056: Me too. <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: We let music lie to us like that. <Audio consistent with a streetscape, transitioning to the interior of a motor vehicle.> Dr. Blank: I wonder how the alternate timelines would have shaken out if you had been in there. SCP-8056: What do you mean? Dr. Blank: 5243. Six alternate timelines. How would they have been different if you'd been incorporated? Just five, actually. You weren't born until the first one was over. Dr. Bradbury: She was born in the first one. Dr. Blank: Yeah, but you know what I mean. SCP-8056: You never told me. Dr. Blank: Never told you what? SCP-8056: What happened in those timelines. Dr. Blank: Yeah, well. You obviously weren't cleared for them. <Audio event consistent with internal combustion engine turning over.> SCP-8056: I don't think that was the reason. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Blank: It only just now occurs to me that I shouldn't be talking to you about this. SCP-8056: Gonna erase it from the tape? Dr. Bradbury: He's not a cop. Dr. Blank: Thank god. <Audio consistent with motor vehicle travel.> SCP-8056: Well, while you're already going to get into trouble… Dr. Blank: Sure. I'm wondering if maybe the me from your version of events saw the same alternate timelines that I saw. I wonder if they're constants. SCP-8056: Meaning I didn't exist in them. Dr. Bradbury: I can certainly see why he wouldn't have wanted to tell you that. SCP-8056: If that's true… <Audio event consistent with turn signal.> Dr. Blank: It's just a thought. SCP-8056: …I wonder how he felt about that. Dr. Blank: Terrible, I imagine. SCP-8056: I wonder. <Audio consistent with exterior wooded space.> Dr. Blank: This was nice. Dr. Bradbury: This was nice. Dr. Blank: We should do it again. SCP-8056: I'd like that. Dr. Blank: Maybe you can pick the restaurant next time. SCP-8056: If any of my picks still exist. Dr. Blank: We're all still climbing out of the wells, Jennifer. Not the same wells. But it's a shared experience. SCP-8056: I'm not entirely sure I understand what you're saying. Dr. Blank: None of us recognize the territory of this new world we're walking through. Dr. Bradbury: Do you remember him saying junk like that? SCP-8056: All the time. <SCP-8056 laughs.> SCP-8056: It's nice to have landmarks. <Excerpts end.> Addendum 8056-13, Executive Discussion: On 06/05/2024, the last of Site-43's security vulnerabilities was successfully patched. No further ontokinetic fluctuations of any kind were detected. The following day, the Site was placed in lockdown while MTF Alpha-1 ("Red Right Hand") secured the facility ahead of an Overseer's arrival via the topside elevator. Director McInnis met with O5-8 and Assistant Director Konjit of the Temporal Anomalies Department in the Chairs and Chiefs Boardroom. A full transcription of their meeting is appended below. <Transcript begins.> O5-8: I'm sorry it had to come to this. Dir. McInnis: It hasn't come to anything yet, sir. Assistant Director Konjit: But the result is foreordained. Dir. McInnis: A curious statement from someone in your position, with your knowledge. O5-8: You need only concern yourself with your own position, Allan. You have always served at the Council's pleasure. Dir. McInnis: And the pleasure has often been mine. But not today. O5-8: You don't have to like it. But you do have to go through with it. Dir. McInnis: I must beg to differ. <Silence on recording.> Assistant Director Konjit: What? Dir. McInnis: Presumably you're talking about the termination of Jennifer Blank. O5-8: That's right. Dir. McInnis: Which we will not be carrying out. Nor will we be allowing any other party to do so. Assistant Director Konjit: That's not for you to say. Dir. McInnis: But I have said it. O5-8: Is this a mutiny, Allan? Assistant Director Konjit: Over the fate of one woman, Dr. McInnis? Dir. McInnis: Director McInnis. I'm the Director of Site-43. And as such, I am invoking Protocol GYRUS. O5-8: Over this? I can't wait to hear your justification. Assistant Director Konjit: What's Protocol GYRUS? O5-8: You aren't cleared. It's timeline-local. [EXPUNGED]. Assistant Director Konjit: Timeline-local. First of all, man, look in your own backyard! All the trouble you've been having since she arrived! All those systems failures! You can't keep a rogue variable in the mix like this. You're endangering everything you've built. Dir. McInnis: That matter is very nearly under control already, and nothing I've seen beyond coincidence suggests Ms. Blank is involved. O5-8: Second of all? Assistant Director Konjit: Second of all, this is a multiversal threat! Dir. McInnis: The fate of one woman? Assistant Director Konjit: Don't essay irony, Director. You're too straightforward to be good at it. You know better than most what a difference one person can make. Dir. McInnis: And that is my reasoning. We are fighting a losing battle with [EXPUNGED], and I will not see us squander any potential resources for reversing that trend. O5-8: You don't really think she's that important. This is just you trying to excuse your usual humanist bullshit. Dir. McInnis: We contend with inhuman forces. That we are humane is rather the point. And frankly, I am disturbed by the Temporal Anomalies Department's interest in this matter. Why such vehemence? And where is Director Xyank? Assistant Director Konjit: I'm not here to exposit for you. Dir. McInnis: You don't know, do you? You don't know. O5-8: Allan. Dir. McInnis: I have had rather enough cryptic oversight from this unaccountable, unappointed watchdog agency, sir. Assistant Director Konjit: You are talking mutiny, then. Dir. McInnis: I would use the term insubordination, if necessary. O5-8: Stop this, both of you. What basis do you have for declaring this anomaly vital, Allan? Under your jurisdiction? Dir. McInnis: The circumstances of her appearance are linked, beyond all reasonable doubt, with SCP-5243 and [EXPUNGED]. We do not fully understand her — why she is here, what her appearance represents, how entwined she might be with baseline temporality now, despite her origins. It would be irresponsible, potentially catastrophic to remove her from the equation before these things are understood. I cannot condone her decommissioning under the present circumstances. Assistant Director Konjit: We don't need your permission to remove this threat. We've sent agents into your facility before, and your permission was just a formality. Dir. McInnis: You're claiming your multiversal prerogative here? Assistant Director Konjit: Yes. The safety of the timestream is paramount, trumping any strictly local concerns — which, by the way, is how you yourself have characterized this. Dir. McInnis: Very well. If a multiversal response is what you seek, then you shall have it. <Dir. McInnis thumbs his intercom button.> Dir. McInnis: Send them in. <The double doors open. The All-Sections Chief, Dr. Harold Blank, Dr. Karen Elstrom, Dr. Trevor Bremmel, Dr. Melissa Bradbury, Dr. Eileen Veiksaar, Chief Delfina Ibanez, Dr. Lillian Lillihammer, Dr. Ilse Reynders, Dr. Udo Okorie, Thilo Zwist, Dr. Nhung Ngo, Dr. Daniil Sokolsky and Dr. William Wettle enter the room. They find their seats.> Assistant Director Konjit: What's this? Your Chairs and Chiefs? O5-8: And an outsider. Zwist: Hello. Assistant Director Konjit: I thought you'd understand and respect the hierarchy a little better, Allan. Dir. McInnis: I don't believe you're qualified to call me that. Assistant Director Konjit: What? Dir. McInnis: We are determining the fate of a citizen from another world. The identity of that world has been conclusively proven. And I am not its Director of Site-43. Dr. Wettle: I am. Apparently? Dir. McInnis: Unless things have changed very much in the intervening years, my title there was Administrator. <Dir. McInnis gestures at the assembled personnel.> Dir. McInnis: And these, according to our debriefing record, were the Architects of the A5 Council. They who laid the Cornerstone. Chief Nascimbeni and Dr. Corbin regrettably cannot be with us, and there may have been roster changes on the other side to which we naturally are not privy, but I suspect this gathering still constitutes a quorum. And I assure you we are quite united on the subject of SCP-8056. Aye? "Architects" (together): Aye. Dr. Sokolsky: I was apparently the contrarian of the group, but I'm honestly not feeling it right now. Dr. Wettle: You're not executing a member of my staff. Sir. Sirs? Sir and ma'am. Dir. McInnis: And certainly not in my facility. Dr. Bradbury: And not my fucking daughter. <Dr. Blank reaches across the table to take her hand.> Assistant Director Konjit: This is preposterous. The reality you're all… roleplaying about no longer even exists. It was only a blip. Dr. Bremmel: Not even a true reality, if what Du tells me is true. And don't tell him I said this, but his data's not wrong. That tangent is really just our world, rearranged. Dir. McInnis: So only a blip, and a local one at that. Not a multiversal matter at all. And if it is, you are almost certainly acting in contravention of the wishes of its highest authority. Tantamount to circumventing the Overseer Council. Is that your policy, Assistant Director? Assistant Director Konjit: I… O5-8: Know when you're beaten. Dir. McInnis: Thank you. O5-8: You'll know it yourself, Allan, soon enough. This display was just short of farce. Dir. McInnis: Given the stakes, sir… better farce than tragedy. Wouldn't you agree? <Transcript ends.> Addendum 8056-14, Containment Breach: On 06/14/2024, a series of explosions triggered automatic lockdown protocols across the main facility of Site-43. It was later determined that an unknown Group of Interest had planted incendiary devices in the bedrock surrounding the Site's protective sheathing and second skin; Security and Containment Chief Hachiro Kuroki reported that the attacks mostly closely resembled an attempt to gauge structural weaknesses and surveillance blind spots. He also expressed the view that the ongoing security difficulties first discovered when SCP-8056 manifested were in actual fact preparatory action by the unknown aggressors, and entirely unrelated to her presence or [EXPUNGED]. This thesis has been widely accepted by the Site's systems, security, and scientific experts. Unidentified sigil. The bulk of the incendiary devices were completely destroyed, but some fragments of material were recovered bearing a badly burned and obscured sigil which to date has not been positively identified. The Groups of Interest Research Group has been engaged on the matter, and their report remains pending. At the outset of the lockdown, Dr. Blank immediately proceeded from his office at Archives and Revision, through the Habitation and Sustenance Section, to Dr. Bradbury's office in Research and Experimentation. These actions are consistent with his behaviour in previous containment breaches, and represent a pattern of behaviour for which he has been reprimanded by Security and Containment staff. Upon assuring himself of Dr. Bradbury's safety, Dr. Blank attempted to return to the corridor, but was directed to remain with Dr. Bradbury by S&C personnel. Both doctors protested, but were compelled to respect the lockdown until it was lifted three hours later. Addendum 8056-15, Aftermath: Subsequent to the above event, when the lockdown was fully lifted, Drs. Blank and Bradbury attempted to ascertain the location of SCP-8056. She was found to be occupying her dormitory, with the door locked. She declined to allow either doctor entry. Dr. Blank and SCP-8056 met the following day, in the Archives and Revision Section main offices. <Transcript begins.> <SCP-8056 is standing near Dr. Blank's desk. He moves to stand in front of her. Neither moves to take a seat.> Dr. Blank: You asked to be transferred. SCP-8056: I asked about being transferred. Dr. Blank: I'm sorry, Jennifer. Old habits… SCP-8056: Did I even cross your mind? Dr. Blank: Of course. SCP-8056: That's worse. Dr. Blank: I've known your mother for decades. I've known you for a couple of weeks. SCP-8056: I thought I'd known you my whole life, but I don't know you at all any more. <Dr. Blank walks around the desk, and sits down heavily in his chair. SCP-8056 remains standing.> Dr. Blank: I lost her in a containment breach. Lost her in a few of them, actually. Got her back in one, too. We've been through a lot together, and a lot more apart. We built something. Building something takes time, and when you have it, you want to protect it. SCP-8056: Were you protecting her from me? Or was it her idea to stay away so long? Dr. Blank: We're all raw about this, Jennifer. There's no way around it. <Dr. Blank sighs.> Dr. Blank: When you're young, you only see one road. When you're our age, you can make out the others in the distance. Your eyes get worse and your brain gets fuzzier, but you get more philosophical. You can see where you might have ended up, if you'd taken a different turn. And it sucks. Because nobody ever walks the optimal path. SCP-8056: My parents — my real parents — didn't either. It took a global genocide to detour them so bad their paths finally converged. Probably nothing less dramatic could have done it. I'm… contingent. Dr. Blank: Everybody is contingent. And every thing. <SCP-8056 pulls a chair from the nearest cubicle, and sits down. She fidgets, and looks down at her hands.> SCP-8056: You're wrong about age and the other roads. I can see them too. And I can see that only one of them leads to me. Statistically, by the numbers, I don't exist. Dr. Blank: Historian's fallacy. <SCP-8056 looks up.> SCP-8056: What? Dr. Blank: Something happening a certain way doesn't mean it had to happen that way. SCP-8056: Tell that to the TAD. Dr. Blank: We already did. SCP-8056: What's that supposed to mean? Dr. Blank: I… can't tell you. SCP-8056: Great. So it's just your word that you guys give a shit, against all the evidence to the contrary. What fallacy is that? Ignoring the evidence to believe what you want to? Dr. Blank: That's not a fallacy. That's just bad science. SCP-8056: Exactly. Try this on for good science: I think I understand why the memories I have still don't properly fit with the way this timeline played out. Dr. Blank: Go on. SCP-8056: There's nothing that could have changed here that would have allowed me to be born. Dr. Blank: But you were born. SCP-8056: Not here. This is a world completely hostile to the concept of my birth. Dr. Blank: But you exist anyway. You're your own proof. SCP-8056: Proof that I'm a fluke. And if you don't want me, maybe they didn't either. Dr. Blank: We never said we don't want you. SCP-8056: You didn't have to. Dr. Blank: We do. Want you. SCP-8056: That's not what I've seen. Dr. Blank: In how long? SCP-8056: What? Dr. Blank: How long have you had to see? How long have we had to show you? We haven't even had time to come to grips with the fact that you exist. That you could exist. SCP-8056: People have been having babies for a long time. Dr. Blank: Not individually they haven't. It's the first time, every time, for everybody. It's always a dramatic detour from the beaten path. And this one was a whole lot twistier than usual. <Silence on recording. SCP-8056 looks away.> Dr. Blank: You need to give us a chance. SCP-8056: So I can get a bad imitation of a thing I already had, at best. Dr. Blank: So you can see that your parents would always have loved you, no matter the circumstances. <SCP-8056 looks out the bank of windows on the southern wall, in the direction of the approach to Acroamatic Abatement Facility AAF-D.> SCP-8056: If my parents sent me here — which sounds more and more like feel-good bullshit, by the way, and I notice that none of the super scientists are giving that theory the time of day — if my parents loved me and they sent me here, then they made a mistake. Dr. Blank: No. SCP-8056: Because it means they thought you'd take care of me the way they would. Dr. Blank: Jennifer… SCP-8056: They thought you were the same, but you're not. <SCP-8056 turns to look at Dr. Blank again.> SCP-8056: You aren't my father. Dr. Blank: I am, actually. In a profoundly literal sense. SCP-8056: Not in all the ways that matter. Dr. Blank: It was my consciousness in 2004. The year you were conceived. I was inhabiting that version of myself. That's how 5243 works, how the alternate timelines work. I'm your father. SCP-8056: Not in all the ways that matter. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Blank: I tried to stay with you. Well, I tried to stay with your mother. In the tangent. I tried. SCP-8056: Did you? Dr. Blank: I did. That was the first deadline..Internal PTF Sampi-5243 terminology for the SCP-5243 tangents. We had no idea the Breach was going to come again, that we were going to get the chance to go back to baseline, but it's not like we weren't prepared for the possibility. We were very prepared. But I didn't want to go. SCP-8056: I mean… That's kind of awful, isn't it? Dr. Blank: Go on. SCP-8056: All those dead people… Dr. Blank: Yeah. SCP-8056: You must have really loved her a lot. Dr. Blank: Always. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Blank: Although… SCP-8056: What? Dr. Blank: It's not like I remember it. It was taken from me. Like it was taken from you. All I have is my own debriefing record. SCP-8056: I don't even have that. Dr. Blank: You have something. You know you loved your parents enough to go half mad with fear when you didn't know if they were okay. <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: I wonder if those versions of you guys ever fought. Dr. Blank: It's like you said. Nothing fixes everything. No family is perfect. But whether or not we can prove it… I don't think it hurts to imagine that you're here because of how much your parents loved you. That maybe, just maybe, they loved you all the way into existence. Twice. <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: Still. I wonder. Dr. Blank: It cost us a lot, coming back home. Every single time. <Dr. Blank sighs.> Dr. Blank: Well. Maybe not every single time. But most of them. SCP-8056: Was I born in any of those other tangents? Dr. Blank: No. We talked about this. SCP-8056: So you never actually gave me up, when the time came around. Dr. Blank: How could I have ever done that? SCP-8056: You don't think you could have? Dr. Blank: No. SCP-8056: Not even to save the world? Dr. Blank: No. I don't know. SCP-8056: Then how can you suggest that they did it? Dr. Blank: Because this is different. Because this gave you life. Parents would do anything for their children. SCP-8056: Or so you've heard. Not really a thing you've experienced firsthand. Dr. Blank: No. It isn't. But I'd like to. SCP-8056: Now that it's easy. Dr. Blank: Yes. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Blank: Did you expect me to deny that? SCP-8056: I kinda did. Dr. Blank: I'm not going to lie to you about who I am now. But I'm always in the process of becoming someone else. All of us are. It doesn't take a temporal anomaly to change the course of your personal history. Sometimes it's as simple as finding something you never knew you lost. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Blank: I might not be your father, but I do want to be. Doing the job is nine tenths of having it. SCP-8056: Well, you showed up late for work. Very late. Dr. Blank: So, demote me. But don't fire me. Or your mother. SCP-8056: It's going to be a long time before I can think of either of you that way. Dr. Blank: We have a long time. SCP-8056: Do you? Dr. Blank: We spend most of every day trying to make sure that's the case. I don't intend to stop now. And you can help. <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: I wonder if it would have seemed like a fair trade. Dr. Blank: What do you mean? SCP-8056: I don't remember them. I'm never going to see them again. I'm here, and they're gone. Forever. Would that have seemed… Dr. Blank: Yes. SCP-8056: It was a rhetorical question. Dr. Blank: The answer is still yes. Being a parent means… being willing to make sacrifices. SCP-8056: How would you know? Dr. Blank: Because I wasn't willing. Not until now. <Silence on recording.> <SCP-8056 stands, smoothing out her clothes. She averts her eyes, and hugs herself.> SCP-8056: I'm changing my name. Dr. Blank: Yeah? SCP-8056: My last name. I don't want people thinking I'm your daughter. I don't want to answer their questions. <Dr. Blank looks down at his desk.> Dr. Blank: I suppose that's fair. SCP-8056: I'm going to try and get recertified for Foundation work. <Dr. Blank looks up again.> Dr. Blank: I can help— SCP-8056: On my own merits. <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: I mean. You already did help. The first time around. Dr. Blank: I guess. SCP-8056: Maybe there's an entry level job at Site-12. Dr. Blank: You should stay here. SCP-8056: Dad… <Silence on recording.> SCP-8056: I don't even know what to call you. <Dr. Blank stands.> Dr. Blank: Stay here. SCP-8056: It'll be weird. Dr. Blank: So what? SCP-8056: We have nothing in common. Dr. Blank: That's not true. <Dr. Blank smiles.> Dr. Blank: We might not share a history, but we can still share history. And… every day forward, is the same day for both of us. <Transcript ends.> Addendum 8056-16, Present Status: SCP-8056, under the alias Jennifer Vide, is at present a junior researcher in Archives and Revision under the supervision of Dr. Harold Blank. The Temporal Anomalies Department has lodged a formal protest re: the above with the Overseer Council. The matter remains in deliberation. SCP-8056. « The Breach Goes On: Deadlined | Words of Power and Poison | SCP-8141 » ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8056" by HarryBlank, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8056. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. The SCP Object Decommissioning Proposal Form is derived from SCP-4456-D: "No One Expects The Spanish Decommission!" by Calibold. Filename: 8056-2.jpg Name: Young woman in coffee shop Author: Aaron Stidwell License: CC BY 2.0 Source: flickr Filename: 8056-Dinner.jpg Name: Steel City Author: Aaron Stidwell License: CC BY 2.0 Source: flickr Filename: 8056-Park.jpg Name: unmend Author: Aaron Stidwell License: CC BY 2.0 Source: flickr Filename: 8056-Blank.jpg Name: 33 months growing out my hair for cancer Author: Kim Siever License: Public domain Source: flickr Filename: 8056-Bradbury.jpg Name: patty and georgia Author: georgia License: CC BY 2.0 Source: flickr Filename: Asterisk-43 License: CC BY-SA 3.0 This image is derived from the below: Name: Lake Huron Drainage Basin Map Author: Government of Canada License: Public Domain Source: flickr and imagery created for "Внутренние службы" on http://scp-ru.wikidot.com, by Osobist, released CC BY-SA 3.0: http://scp-ru.wikidot.com/list-of-foundation-s-internal-departments. Filename: Aura_Jennifer.jpg Author: HarryBlank License: CC BY-SA 3.0 This image was created using reference material created by the author in DAZ Studio, as well as the following: Name: Jinpu Author: Aaron Stidwell License: CC BY 2.0 Source: flickr Name: When in doubt, blow it out. Author: Aaron Stidwell License: CC BY 2.0 Source: flickr Filename: Bomb.jpg Author: HarryBlank License: CC BY-SA 2.0 This image is a composite of the below: Name: Pitted Metal Texture Author: Barta IV License: CC BY 2.0 Source: flickr Name: Porphyritic andesite ash (9 July 1953 eruption of Mt. Spurr's Crater Peak Vent, Aleutian Volcanic Arc, southern Alaska, USA) Author: James St. John License: CC BY 2.0 Source: flickr This image contains text from Paradise Regained by John Milton, 1671, in the public domain. Filename: DeD.png Author: Calibold License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Filename: EC.png Author: EstrellaYoshte License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Filename: Jennifer.jpg Name: Face full of tears Author: Aaron Stidwell License: CC BY 2.0 Source: flickr Filename: HP.png, PP.png License: CC BY-SA 3.0 derived from imagery created for "Внутренние службы" on http://scp-ru.wikidot.com, by Osobist, released CC BY-SA 3.0: http://scp-ru.wikidot.com/list-of-foundation-s-internal-departments. Filename: Necropsar.svg Author: ShineShadowD License: CC BY-SA 3.0 |
SCP-8057 | esoteric-class | Item #: SCP-8057 Special Containment Procedures: POI-8057 is to be tracked down by MTF Lambda-11 ("Prying Eyes") and brought before the Overseer Council for treason. Should he attempt to utilize SCP-8057 in an attempt to defend himself, tranquilizer rounds are to be used to incapacitate him. Once POI-8057 is successfully captured, all knowledge regarding SCP-8057 is to be extracted, and POI-8057 is to be terminated. Description: SCP-8057 is a Class 3 retro-causal metaphysical1 cognito-hazard that, when activated, causes the complete metaphysical annihilation of the target. This is done through SCP-8057's primary effect: the generation of an "anti-concept" specific to the target, and the subsequent merging of the concept and anti-concept2. This merging will annihilate both the target concept and its anti-concept, thereby removing the target from the noosphere and subsequently removing it conceptually from baseline reality. SCP-8057 is activated by inserting an accurate and exhaustive description of a target. The Foundation Department of Nomenclature has emphasized the necessity of specificity when activating SCP-8057 for testing (see Incident 8057-002.1). Subjects affected by SCP-8057 are irretrievable and unidentifiable. The Foundation was only able to identify SCP-8057 through its secondary effect: the production of excess "thought energy" as waste in the noosphere. This thought energy is theorized to contribute to harmful stray thoughts, continuous or spontaneous deja vu, and a mundane phenomenon colloquially known as the "Mandela effect". It is currently unknown if SCP-8057 is temporally self-normalizing. Discovery SCP-8057 was officially designated on 17/07/01 after several concepts were discovered to be missing from reality, and the human noosphere. An excerpt log of these presumed ideas has been attached below. Concept: The ninth planet in the solar system Description: Records collected by the Foundation indicate that as recently as 4 months prior to SCP-8057's discovery there existed a ninth planet in the local solar system. Despite this, no member currently on Foundation payroll can remember such a discovery, including members of the Astronomy Department. Important to note is that there is a ninth celestial object in the local solar system, that being Pluto. Concept: Berenstein Bears Description: Humanity as a whole remembers this concept as the Berenstein Bears, despite no records of this spelling existing. Imaging of the human Noosphere3 has revealed no trace of the original concept. Concept: Emotion Description: Imaging of the human Noosphere has revealed a drastically different structure in the section dedicated to emotion. This is presumed to have been due to the annihilation of prior emotional constructs, leading the Noosphere to adapt and create new ones. Researcher Henderssohn was given charge of SCP-8057 shortly following these events. Researcher Henderssohn's Logs The following logs detail Researcher Henderssohn's discovery of SCP-8057, recovered by MTF Lambda-11 Date: 12/08/01 The Foundation has always kept tabs on public trends and mass beliefs. It's exceedingly rare, but there is always a chance something anomalous crops up in the chaotic realm of the human collective consciousness. Of course, this is not new news to anyone reading. We've been like this for a while. But recently, there's been a massive surge of cases of the Mandela Effect4. And I have to admit, this has piqued my curiosity. I plan on looking into this. I'll update you all. Date: 14/08/01 I said I'd update you and here I am. I may or may not have taken a peek into the Noosphere last night, and I noticed some rather major differences in certain parts of it. It's almost like someone tore out parts of it and the Noosphere was forced to adapt by replacing it with something new. Could this be where the Mandela effect comes from? Date: 17/08/01 I found it. I think I did, anyway. I found some sort of weird concept within the Noosphere that appears to be responsible for, as I put it last time, tearing parts out of the Noosphere. But perhaps this power can be controlled? I need to experiment with this. Notes from E. Henderssohn's lecture: "On the Nature of Concepts" "How do you look for something that doesn’t exist and is conceptually annihilated, gone, no longer something we can conceive of? When something gets annihilated in a standard sense, it doesn’t just vanish. It leaves behind residue, energy, particles, something. Likewise, if you want to look for something that doesn't exist, you just have to find what it left behind. It's fascinating, really, the ways in which the models we know can be modified and adapted." On the Forming of Ideas: We actually had the incredible privilege recently of watching an idea form in the noosphere. The team, we had detected a large concentration of thought energy around the nodes of mp3 players. After a few days, this energy condensed around a new node, something called an "iPod". About a month later, Steve Jobs unveiled a new product. It takes a large quantity of energy in the noosphere for something to form around a thought node, but if one can create an idea stable enough, a new concept is born. On the Noosphere and Human Consciousness: …[M]y team was able to get their hands on some of those new metaphysical sensing devices the gang over in the Tech wing have been working on. It's allowed us to do some deep imaging of concepts in the noosphere, furthering that theory from thirty-something years ago. Concepts in the noosphere actually have a shape, a pattern that allows us to identify them. See, they start out almost like nodes, the faintest basis for an idea one might have. Then, as this idea starts to formulate and become fully realized in the human consciousness, it pulls in thoughts almost like a form of energy until eventually, a new concept is born. Experiment Log 8057.01.1 Experiments involving SCP-8057 were performed by Site 121 Researcher Dr. Erik Henderssohn, approved by Site Director Ernest Sterling. Due to the metaphysical nature of SCP-8057, Dr. Henderssohn determined that it would be impossible to know if a subject had been successfully annihilated by SCP-8057. Therefore, he and his team devised a method to monitor the noosphere for excess "thought energy". They would analyze the noospheric shape of various concepts suspected of being affected by SCP-8057 and compare their general development to that of a control concept. Experiment No. 8057.01.15.11.01 Lead: E. Henderssohn Subject: Sycamore tree Result: Standard nootropic energy. No deviations from norm. Noospheric shape resembles a hollow tube. Notes: I chose a sycamore because there's one outside my house. Must have been on my mind. Good control. Perhaps some of the next tests will show something interesting.-E. H. Experiment No. 8057.02.18.11.01 Lead: E. Henderssohn Assistant: A. Lorr Subject: Saxophone Result: Very high excess energy. Stable thought state. Suggests this item could have been conceptually unstable until reaching equilibrium in its current form. Noospheric shape resembles a series of overlapping irregular polyhedrons. Notes: Man, someone really did not want the saxophone to happen-A. L. Experiment No. 8057.03.23.11.01 Lead: E. Henderssohn Assistant: A. Lorr Subject: Famous quote from Lucasfilms movie Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back Result: Highly unstable equilibrium. Oscillates between two thought states. Suggest people believe one of two aspects of this quote to be true. Noospheric shape is two perpendicular, pulsating circles with a period of 4pi. Notes: Beginning to get a feel for things. Might be able to generate a theory with a few more experiments. Smaller scale ones I should do on my own- E.H. Makes sense. Most people believe it’s either "Luke, I am your father" or "No, I am your father". Obviously only the first one is correct, but enough people believe in the second one that it appears in the noosphere- A.L. This is all well and good, Erik, but we need to find something a bit more interesting if we want to continue research. I'm trying to get some more complex organisms to look into. Also, it’s "No, I am your father".- Sterling Site Director Sterling petitioned the Ethics Committee following several more of Henderssohn‘s experiments for a D-Class subject. As these experiments are non-invasive and purely observational, the request was approved. Experiment No. 8057.53.05.03.02 Lead: E. Henderssohn Assistant: E. Sterling Subject: D-52899 Result: [DATA EXPUNGED] Notes: It’s just science, Erik. Stop being dramatic. Looking at concepts as complex as a human person is bound to have some deviations. -Sterling I've been running these observations for months. That's not a deviation. -E.H. Email Exchange The following details correspondence between Site Director Sterling and Dr. Henderssohn following the D-Class experiment. Access SCiPNET Email? One (1) new message! Re:SUBJECT To: Erik Henderssohn ten.arap-pics|redneh.e#ten.arap-pics|redneh.e From: Ernest Sterling ten.arap-pics|rid.gnilretse#ten.arap-pics|rid.gnilretse Subject: SCP-8057 Erik, I understand your apprehension, but we need to escalate experimentation. If this anomaly is what we think it is, it could be one of the Foundation‘s greatest assets! Right now, you’re just showing some theories on what might happen if we use it. We need some more tangible results. We need to use it. Just once. Something innocuous. Something that won’t be missed. It’s secured, it’s contained. But every once in a blue moon, we use anomalies to help us protect. Just think of the bigger picture. To: Ernest Sterling ten.arap-pics|rid.gnilretse#ten.arap-pics|rid.gnilretse From: Erik Henderssohn ten.arap-pics|redneh.e#ten.arap-pics|redneh.e Subject: Re:SCP-8057 Ernest, We can’t. It doesn’t work that way. Believe me, I know. We’re missing something about this thing. It’s not just about annihilation. There’s something else. The team has been picking up a lot of stray thought energy in the Noosphere. Let us look into it. To: Erik Henderssohn ten.arap-pics|redneh.e#ten.arap-pics|redneh.e From: Ernest Sterling ten.arap-pics|rid.gnilretse#ten.arap-pics|rid.gnilretse Subject: Re:Re:SCP-8057 Erik, O5-8 has already expressed her support. We’d have the O5s, Ethics Committee, Metaphysics Safety Committee, most of the Metaphysics Department, and probably a million others all with eyes on this. I can guarantee this will be one of the safest, most secure experiments we could perform. Your team would be in total control of how testing is conducted. Can you trust me with this, Erik, please? We’ve worked together for 10 years, and I’ve never let you down. Ernest To: Ernest Sterling ten.arap-pics|rid.gnilretse#ten.arap-pics|rid.gnilretse From: Erik Henderssohn ten.arap-pics|redneh.e#ten.arap-pics|redneh.e Subject: Re:Re:Re:SCP-8057 Ernest, If it were just you, and no one else in the world, I would trust you in a heartbeat. But once the knowledge is out there, it becomes out of your control. Someone out there will see this anomaly not as a danger, but an opportunity, a statement. I want you to walk into my lab, look me in the eyes, and swear to me that no one, ever, will misuse this anomaly or treat it as a weapon. I want you to promise me that even after we’re all long buried that this anomaly will be used only in the way that you’ve prescribed, that the next O5s or the ones after that won’t change their minds. Only then will I say yes. Site Director Sterling submitted a project proposal to the O5s for approval following his conversation with Dr. Henderssohn VIDEO LOG DATE: 07/03/2002 NOTE: Video transcript of meeting between Dir. Sterling, Dr. Henderssohn, and the O5 Council. Sterling is anxiously looking over his documents, occasionally flicking his gaze towards the large double doors on the other side of the room. O5-5: You said he would be here, Director Sterling. Sterling: So did he. There’s no reason he’d miss this. O5-8: I should hope he is on board with your proposal? It will be difficult to continue a project without its lead researcher. Sterling: Yeah, he will be. He’s just a little dramatic sometimes. Several more minutes go by. Sterling shakes his head and mutters something to himself. O5-11: Just because this project has piqued our interest, doesn’t mean we can afford to sit around waiting. Sterling: I know, I know. Just… give him a couple more minutes. I’m sure he’s on his way. O5-3: Then he can fill in the blanks when he gets here. Proceed, Director. O5-8 nods to Sterling. Sterling: Alright. Well, so far we’ve been able to determine several things about the nature of SCP-8057. Firstly, it is a Class 3 cognitohazard, so already fairly dangerous. However, it is mostly innocuous. We, uh, we’re able to monitor what we believe are some of the effects of this anomaly, and we have a few theories on how to apply it or utilize it- O5-11: We know what it is and what it does, Director. Complete removal of concepts from human consciousness. Sterling: Well, yes, but it’s not just a memetic effect. It’s actually altering the noosphere. Once it’s gone, there’s no way for anyone to get it back. O5-2: And you’re proposing that we just point this thing at whatever we don’t like. I didn’t realize we had become the GOC during my time off. O5-5: We’ve attempted worse. O5-2: You’ve attempted worse. Sterling: No, no- my plan, my proposal is really just two steps. The first is just a simple proof of concept. Use the anomaly on something very mundane, something no one will notice if it’s gone. O5-11: Such as? O5-8: ████? Sterling: Sure, that works. But that’s the easy part. The second half is much more important, and the part that I think Henderssohn will most agree with. Once we can ascertain that this anomaly functions the way we’ve theorized, it gets put away. Everything you all can put in front of it, kill agents, cognitohazards, red tape that would make the UIU blush, everything. This is the thing we use when there’s nothing else left. O5-2: A last resort, then? We have plenty of those. Sterling: Not a last resort, per se. A contingency. Yellowstone‘s not gonna last forever. Neither is the eel. Wouldn’t it be better if we had something we knew would work for as long as we needed, so we didn’t have to rely on things we think might work when we need them most. Again, it’s only a button we push after everything’s gone to shit, and we need a way to restore normalcy again. The Foundation doesn’t need another Hail Mary. We need a certainty. The room is silent for a few minutes O5-11: You… do make a solid case, Director. But how do you expect a proof of concept for something that is somewhat antithetical to the whole idea of proof? Or concepts? Sterling: We’ve got some AIs in nootropic isolation. I asked around. A few dozen lines of code should be all we need. O5-2: You’ve certainly given this a lot of thought. But I would also like to hear from that second opinion you had promised would be here by now. O5-8: I think we have all the information we need. Shall we put it to a vote? The double doors slam open. Dr. Henderssohn pushes past a frustrated security officer. O5-5: Good timing, Dr. Henderssohn. We are just about to put Director Sterling's proposal to vote. All in favor? O5s-3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, and 12 raise their right hands. Henderssohn: What? Now? O5-5: All opposed? O5s- 2, 7, 11, and 13 raise their hands Henderssohn: Me, I, I oppose! I oppose all of this. I oppose your plan (He points at Sterling), I oppose your plan (He points at O5-8), too! I know you're working together on this. O5-8: You’re a little out of line, Doctor. Sterling nervously places a hand on Henderssohn‘s shoulder. Sterling: Erik, it's not like that, please- Henderssohn: No, you’re going to listen to me. Look at this. He shoves a packet of papers at the O5s and a second, larger folder at Sterling. Hendersohn: My team and I have reason to believe this anomaly has a much more pronounced effect on human thought than we initially theorized. O5-11: And what does that have to do with Director Sterling‘s proposal? Henderssohn: This is not an anomaly we can use. This isn’t anything remotely close to Thaumiel-class. This is the kind of thing that we lock away, drown it in antimemes, take a horse pill of amnestics, and pray to whatever the hell you all believe in that we never remember it again. Silence for two minutes. O5-5: That’s quite a take, Dr. Henderssohn. And you’ve come to this extreme conclusion based on… empirical data? You’ve tested the anomaly? Henderssohn stutters. Henderssohn: Uh, well, not.. not exactly. You can’t just "test" it. There'd be no way to know if it actually worked since whatever you test it on won't exist. O5-8: Not even with the nootropic isolation AIs that Director Sterling mentioned? Henderssohn: …I don’t know. But we’re not even close to that stage, and honestly I don’t think we should ever get there. This is not an anomaly to use or to test or to do anything with! Sterling: Erik… O5-8: It sounds to me like your project has stalled, and this proposal is the kick in the pants it needs to get going again. Henderssohn: I don't need a kick in the pants! I-we- need to keep doing what we've been doing. Observing conceptual models in the noosphere, building simulations off of that, and making conclusions based off of simulated data and those observations alone. We absolutely, unequivocally, do not need to test this anomaly. O5-11: Why not? What could happen? Henderssohn: I…don't know. Genuinely. But our observations of the concepts we suspect may have been annihilated in the past demonstrate a dangerous correlation. Too much chaos for stable ideas. The human consciousness turns into a muddy soup. Infinitely repeating concepts. Any one of these is the worst K -class scenario you could imagine. O5-5: That's a lot of hypotheticals. What happened to your scientific curiosity, Doctor? Don't you want to know more? Henderssohn: No. You haven't seen firsthand the things in the noosphere. Sterling: Erik, maybe you should take some time off to think about this. Sterling puts his arm around Henderssohn‘s shoulders. Sterling: You‘ve been pushing yourself too hard on this project. I think you need a break. We can talk about this later, it’s honestly not as bad as you think it is. Please, I’m a little worried about you. Henderssohn glares at him. Sterling: I’ve been your friend for a long time. I’m not trying to screw you over on this. Trust me. Henderssohn: Look me in the eyes and say it, Ernest. Sterling turns away. Henderssohn‘s expression hardens. Henderssohn: I suppose you’re right. I do need some time away from here. Sterling: Take as long as you need. We’ll be waiting for you when you get back. O5-8: Look at it this way, Doctor. If something goes wrong, you won’t be held accountable. It won’t be your fault. They leave the O5 Council meeting room. [END LOG] Director Sterling‘s proposal was approved by the O5 Council. Dr. Henderssohn was approved for an extended leave of absence following his outburst at the Council meeting. Director Sterling was appointed Interim Project Lead in Dr. Henderssohn‘s absence. The following is a record of logs from Dir. Sterling‘s lab computer: 10/03/02- It‘s been a few days, might as well get started. Some of Henderssohn‘s team has expressed displeasure at my taking the reins. I’ve informed everyone on the team that they are absolutely allowed to leave if they do not agree with the decisions I make. I’m not keeping anyone captive here. That being said, I’ve also encouraged them to come at this project with an open, scientific mind. I wouldn’t do anything Erik wouldn’t approve of. We’ll wait until he’s back to start taking any major steps towards a proof of concept. It’s not like we could either way. Erik‘s the one with the knowledge on how to get this anomaly working. Experiment No. 8057.54.11.03.02 Lead: E. Sterling Assistant: J. Zahne Subject: D-799320 Result: Normal Lorr‘s already walked out. I think James is going to follow her after today. Honestly, I’m a little envious of Erik. He’s got a loyal team. On [DATA EXPUNGED], a containment breach was detected at Site 121. Several staff were injured, and an MTF was deployed to re-contain several low level anomalies. Upon entering a storage room holding several of these anomalous devices, the MTF instead recovered a single note. I’m extending my leave indefinitely. You won’t find what you’re looking for. E. H. Site 121 was put into lockdown immediately and MTF Lambda-11 was dispatched to apprehend former Researcher Erik Henderssohn. Interview Log with Dr. Henderssohn‘s Staff Two staff members who walked out of SCP-8057‘s testing were contacted and brought in for questioning regarding Dr. Henderssohn‘s actions. Interviewer: Dir. Ernest Sterling Interviewees: Jr. Researchers Alexandra Lorr, James Zahne <BEGIN LOG> Lorr and Zahne sit opposite Sterling in a standard office meeting room. Both junior researchers are fidgeting with their chairs. Neither meet the director‘s gaze, but Zahne occasionally stares at the camera in one corner of the room. Sterling: I promise this will have no negative effects on your standing in the Foundation or your employment here. Honestly, we just want to get to the bottom of this. I’m just as worried about Erik as you are. Lorr: I'm sure you are. Sterling sighs. Sterling: I don't know what Erik's told you about me, but it's probably all true. I suppose I'll be wasting my time asking if you knew about his plan to betray the Foundation or where he's headed now? Lorr and Zahne look at each other, shrug, and look back at Sterling. He rolls back into his chair and turns to face one of the cameras Sterling: He was one of my first friends here. Still consider him one, despite all he's done. I understand why. I just made different choices. Sterling gestures to Lorr. Sterling: You know he was the one to get me hired here? Pulled my resume out of the shredder pile and taped it to the department chair's desk. He laughs to himself, rummaging around in his briefcase. He pulls out a small, silver pen and rolls it around his fingers. Sterling: I met him while getting my Master's. He was TA'ing this dynamics class I needed. Held his office hours in this tiny little room with the weirdest windows. Felt like we were in space. Sterling suddenly points the pen directly at one of the cameras. A bright red light burns through the lens before consuming the entire picture. The other three cameras follow soon after. Sterling: Mics are still on. Not much I can do about that. But, if there's anything you wanted to show me, you've got about thirty seconds. Papers are heard rustling before abruptly stopping. Zahne: You're still on the O5s side. Sterling: Yes. I still have my proposal. I'm still a site director, for now I imagine. But I swear on the Black Moon that I will not allow anyone to harm Erik. That might not mean anything to you guys, but trust me, it's a real promise. At least if I'm the one that finds him, I can make sure that we bring him back safe. There is a long pause. Lorr: Dr. Henderssohn said you never missed a lecture, even after all of your friends dropped the class. And you were the only one who came to his office. Sterling: Well that's because I was failing. A folder of papers and a small metal object are heard sliding across the desk. <END LOG> Notes: The flash drive acquired from Researchers Lorr and Zahne was confiscated by MTF Lambda-11. Agent "November" was tasked with decrypting the files stored on the drive. The sheets of paper remain in Dir. Sterling's possession, as he has refused to hand them over. Decrypting file……………10% [] Ernest, I imagine at this point you are pleading with the O5s about what to do when you finally contain me. Please, save yourself the extra stress. You won't need to worry about that. I’m not coming back. I've compiled my notes on SCP-8057 in such a way that you will be able to understand. I hope you can become the voice of reason in my stead. I trust you. Per the orders of Dir. Sterling, MTF Labmda-11 agents November, Echo, and Sierra were deployed to Omaha, Nebraska to determine the location of Bertrand Woss, an Anderson Robotics employee close to Dr. Henderssohn. MTF Lambda-11 Interview Logs Interviewers: MTF Lambda-11-November, Echo, Sierra Interviewees: Bertrand Woss Notes: Interview takes place outside a coffee shop in Omaha. MTF Lambda-11 agents were outfitted with hidden microphones and cameras. Sierra and November sit opposite Woss. Echo waits at a nearby table by the entrance. <BEGIN LOG> Woss: It must be nice talking with someone who knows who you lot are. Sierra: I'm sorry, Mr. Woss, but we're just investigating Dr. Henderssohn's disappearance- Woss: C'mon, this ain't my first rodeo. I'm a senior engineer for Anderson, I worked with some a' their weird anomalous shit. Woss leans in. Woss: For the record, your people gotta come up with better cover stories than "newspaper" or "FBI". It's getting old and obvious. 'Sides, the real FBI is way more conspicuous than you lot. He laughs. November: I suppose if we had known you were senior level, we might have been a bit more direct with our request. Regardless, our reason stays the same. Woss nods. Woss: Whaddaya wanna know? Sierra: Anything you can give us. His history at Anderson, anything he might have shared with you about his future plans, stuff like that. Woss: Whoo boy, there's a lot on the first part. That's not gonna come cheap, ya hear? Sierra and November exchange glances. November: Mr. Woss- Woss: I'm just kidding. Though it doesn't matter what I tell you, you won't get him. He's way craftier than you'd expect. Hell, I didn't know he went to the Foundation after leaving Anderson for weeks. Woss pauses, taking a drag of his cigar. Woss: You two ever heard of that oricalcum scandal at Anderson? November: We're…familiar. He and I were investigative journalists out of Portland before coming to the Foundation. Woss: Oohh, "familiar", sure, sure. Terrible what happened to Ms. Butler. Turns out, Erik had been meeting with her weeks before the story broke. Well, that whole debacle wasn't our department, anyhow. We were more on the theoretical side of things. None of that magic nonsense. I told him it didn't affect us none, but he wouldn't have it. He stormed into our supervisor's office and was gone by lunch. November: So, this isn't his first rodeo either. Woss laughs again. Woss: You could certainly say that. Sierra: You wouldn't happen to have an idea of where he's gone this time? Woss: Nope! 'spose I'll find out in a few weeks, just like last time. But I'll tell you this, he's been planning for something like this for a long time. Just in case the Foundation pushed him in the same way Anderson did. I wish you lot the best of luck. November: Thank you, Mr. Woss. <END LOG> Decrypting file……………25%….35% [] SCP-8057 is a metaphysical anomaly. I can't describe what it looks like or what it is exactly, as that would defeat the whole purpose of my actions, but I can tell you how it works. When you feed a proper description of a subject into it, SCP-8057 will go into the human noosphere and pull out what I've started calling an anti-concept of the subject. It's not quite the opposite of something, more like its inverse. When a concept and anti-concept meet, they annihilate, just like standard particles on the quantum level. With this idea as a baseline, we were able to run several simulations of this metaphysical annihilation process. These simulated subjects didn't simply vanish upon annihilation, however. They left something behind. Mass false memories, deja vu, or any number of mild memetic or antimemetic effects. That's not to say every time you experience deja vu, something has been annihilated, but if enough people experience a similar phenomenon, I would bet that it's because of this leftover thought energy. And there's something else… ████████ ███████, an agent working for the GOC, was identified by MTF Lambda-11 as a former classmate and partner of Dr. Henderssohn. The GOC approved an interview with said agent, whose name has been redacted as per Foundation-GOC Treaty of Versailles of 1946 Article 5 Section II5. Footage and transcript of interview was obtained through Foundation-GOC Treaty of London 1979 Article 3 Section I. Interviewers: MTF Lambda-11-Bravo, Oscar, November Interviewee: ████████ ██████ Notes: Interview takes place in standard GOC planning room. Two armed GOC agents stand guard at the door. <BEGIN LOG> Oscar: Thank you for meeting with us, Ms. ██████. ██████: Censors will catch that, agent. November: We're well aware. ██████: This is about Erik, isn't it? Surprised it's taken this long. Look, I know he's gone AWOL, but I don't know where. Is that all you need? Oscar: Not quite. Our records indicate that you two studied together. ██████: That's correct. Oscar: And you both started taking interest in the anomalous at around the same time. You had taken a trip to Sloth's Pit together. ██████: …yeah. Bravo: So, what sparked your interest? ██████ looks at them, deadpan. ██████: Personal matters. Oscar: Ms. ██████, we're just trying to gather as much information as we can to try and figure out where Dr. Henderssohn might have gone. ██████: I‘m sure you can look up the answers to all your questions with your fancy database. Now, is there anything else or am I free to go? November sits next to Oscar. November: I knew some of my team before working at the Foundation. We went to school together, too. ██████: Yeah? What'd you study, good cop? November: Journalism. One of the professors we really admired. She took us under her wing. She had a knack for piecing things together, but one day, she just up and vanishes. No notes, no record, just gone. Some people are just too good at their jobs. ██████ nods slowly. November: Course, we get a little too curious as to what happened, and we get scooped up by the Foundation. I guess they value reckless abandon in their field agents. We walked out of there with a job offer. She looks ██████ in the eyes. November: Do you ever remember meeting someone named Ernest Sterling while you and Dr. Henderssohn were working at that university? ██████: Huh? November: He was a student of Dr. Henderssohn‘s, I believe. ██████: Maybe? Why? November: Mr. Sterling has lost his friend, and he’s tasked us with trying to find him before he gets hurt. We don’t really know much about him, But I agree with Mr. Sterling. So, we’ve been asking around with people who were close to him, hoping we can find anything to get us closer to finding him and bringing him home. ██████ sighs. ██████: He’s passionate at what he does, and he’s good at it too. Stubborn as all hell, though. Sticks to his principles. November: That’s how we got here. ██████: He can be a real pain in the ass. When I got an offer to work here, I expected him to be excited for me, you know? But you know what he said instead? "I guess you’ll find out why they call them Book Burners." He looked so disappointed. Oscar: You belonged to the Hand? ██████ clicks her tongue and grimaces. ██████: Well… not exactly. I guess to answer your earlier question, we found a Way when we were younger, kinda by accident. It was amazing, honestly. I have no idea how long we got stuck in there, but eventually Librarians kicked us out. November: How old were you at the time? ██████: I dunno, nineteen? Twenty, maybe? I don’t really remember what we found there, but I remember Erik and I were fascinated by it. November: Have you ever been back? ██████ shakes her head. The room is silent for several minutes. ██████: I used to have dreams about the Library, but they stopped years ago. Last I talked to Erik, he still dreams. November: Do you miss it? ██████ stares at her hands. November: What made you start working for the GOC? ██████: Stability. Erik was barely able to make rent with his teaching jobs, but he never applied for anything else. He always felt personally invested in whatever he was doing. It stopped him from going outside of his comfort zone, I think. Eventually he had to realize that sometimes, a job is just a job. Pays the bills. Can’t really reinvent quantum theory from a shitty studio in a dying city. ██████ is quiet again for several minutes. When she speaks again, her voice is distant. ██████: I should, uh, get back…probably. Still have my job and all. November: Thank you for your time. ██████: …yeah. ██████ exits quickly. November and Bravo are heard conversing after she leaves, but audio is quieter. November: — can just leave him be? It doesn’t sound like he's the world ending reality bender Command made him out to be. Bravo: He‘s harboring dangerous knowledge. World ending stuff, according to the O5s. That's all the info we need. November: Did Command elaborate on that? Bravo: Nope. November: And that doesn't bother you at all? Bravo: Nope. He faces away from her. November: Ok, so we catch him and bring him back. Then what? Bravo shrugs. Bravo: Not our problem. Our job is to find him and contain him. Bravo and Oscar exit. November lingers in silence briefly before exiting. <END LOG> Note: Had to get Sierra to help with this next section. Henderssohn had it locked up good. -November Decrypting file……………50%….70% [] I‘ve always felt that I keep retreading the same paths my entire life. No matter how far I go, how much I try to never deviate, somehow, I end up back where I started, and I can see the path I’ve just walked laid out in front of me. And still I carry on. Excess thought energy is a strong foundation for forming conceptual nodes. Given time, enough energy will coalesce to form a new concept. Yes, metaphysical annihilation completely removes the concept from our collective consciousness, but something new, so slightly different takes it’s place. Holes in the noosphere are incredibly unstable and seek to reestablish equilibrium as fast as possible. But they knew that. They just want to keep rolling the dice until they can get something more manageable. WARNING: Unauthorized Access Detected. Show access log? - Close | Connecting to Sec.st121.mod.343esdcke3.msg-send-rec.32ews… | … | … | … Connection Established N: Hey sierra you there? S: Wtf N: I found a backdoor in Site 121s communications software. Cmere I need to show you something. Dont have a lot of time before Im kicked out. S: Uhhh… who is this N: Its november S: Sure it is N: Shut up and just get in here. Now S: Prove it. N: I know where your bunk is. I will go over there and kick your ass. S: Okok fine. N: Do you know what it is were doing? Like with finding Henderssohn and all that? S: I mean, yeah? We all read the same mission file. Why? N: Ive been talking to Bravo about specifics, but hes been super cagey and I got curious S: Uh oh. What did you do Accessing record_sec_feed_23438.st121.mod.343esdcke-cam_lock_dirsuite… S: The DIRECTORS SUITE? Man we are getting mega amnestitized N: Shut up and watch Video Log sec_feed23438 Director Sterling is seated at his desk, placing some documents back into a folder. O5-8 is seated across from him BEGIN LOG Sterling: These are your new procedures? O5-8: I’m sure you have some questions- Sterling: Go fuck yourself, Matilda. O5-8: Ernest. Sterling: I promised his team, MY team, that I wouldn’t let anything hurt Erik. That’s why I took this assignment. O5-8: And you can uphold that. These aren’t your procedures. You’re not the one pulling the trigger. Sterling: I might as well be! O5-8: You may not believe me, but the O5s and Dr. Henderssohn do agree on a few things regarding SCP-8057. Sterling: And what would that be? O5-8: Namely, that this anomaly is too dangerous to leave in anyone else‘s hands. It needs to be kept at the Foundation, under strict lock and key. But your friend‘s decision to run away has made him a liability to his own research. We simply can’t trust him to keep it contained. Sterling: Is that not what amnestics are for? Death seems a bit too cruel, even for you. O5-8: If we could reliably manufacture the kind of drug to wipe everything that may pose a threat to the Foundation, he would be functionally brain-dead. Death is a mercy. Sterling: Strange way to say that you just don't want him around to roadblock your authority. O5-8: It's not just about 8057 anymore. Erik knew he was digging too deep. It's what he's good at. He did it at his university. He did it at Anderson's. It's almost like he enjoys finding this kind of trouble, and then he runs away with it. Sterling visibly stiffens. Sterling: You can't stand being wrong. O5-8: Director, I am more than willing to be the villain in your story, since you need someone to blame other than yourself. But the O5s serve a very important function. We make the decisions no one else wants to live with. Sterling: How noble of you. O5-8: Would you like to be the one to consign Dr. Henderssohn to his fate? Or would you like to make a different decision? What would you do if you were wrong, no matter what you chose? O5-8 stands and grabs the folder from Sterling. O5-8: Fortunately for you, these are questions you will never have to answer. We certainly are cold, we may be cruel, some will say we are evil. But we are necessary, Ernest. She walks to the door. O5-8: If you are not capable of completing your assignment, I will have you pulled off it. And then you can wash your hands of guilt completely. But it will be done, regardless of your decision. O5-8 leaves Director Sterling‘s office. He slumps into his chair, head between his hands. END LOG S: oh N: Im not letting what happened to Harriet happen again. S: what do we do? N: We get to him first. N: … N: … N: you there? S: hey november N: yeah? S: Echo wants to help N: what S: I showed him the video. He thinks its fucked too N: Why did you do that? We dont need anyone else doing something stupid E: I asked. N: Does he understand what were planning to do? E: Yes. N: Are you sure? I wont blame you if you dont E: I am. I didnt really know Dr. Henderssohn or Harriet Butler, but I dont think I could face Alex or James if I do nothing. N: alrighty then welcome aboard, rookie. E: Bravo said they found a Way. Were shipping out soon. S: go team |… |… |… Connection lost… - Close Kanorado Way Video Logs After several months of Foundation surveillance, Bertrand Woss and ████████ ██████ were reported missing from their respective offices. Foundation agents were able to track Woss‘s cell phone to Kanorado, Kansas. MTF Lambda-11 was dispatched to intercept. The following is a video log of their encounter. VIDEO LOG: KANORADO, KS DATE: █ █/ █ █/2004 NOTE: Site Command consists of O5-8, two senior researchers from Site 121, and a psychologist from the Memetics Division. The log is transcribed from MTF Lambda-11's various body cams. [BEGIN LOG] 00:00:6:23:00: MTF Lambda-11 steps out of Foundation vehicles next to a small rock, fenced off and labelled "Mt. Sunflower". A second sign reads "Highest Point in Kansas". Lambda-11-Bravo assembles the team in front of the fence. Bravo: We keep walking until the sun meets the mountain. Then we should be in the Library. Remember, time moves differently in there, so move quickly. We don't wanna find out our only escape route is suddenly ten thousand feet in the air. Sierra: It moves with the Sun? Pretty clever. Oscar: How the hell does anyone find this all the way out here? Echo: You could probably fall in if you're lucky enough. Bravo: Quit yapping and start moving! 00:00:6:41:00: The team reaches a stretch of field where the air begins to shimmer like a bubble of soapy water. Bravo gives the signal and the team enters. They find themselves in a small corner section with a row of intricate wooden tables and chairs. Bravo and Oscar draw their weapons and take point. Bravo takes out a can and sprays the team with it. Bravo: We got about 30 minutes with each spray of this stuff. I'll reapply when the time runs out. Still can't let the Librarians get too close, but hopefully this will throw off our scent just enough so they don't make a beeline for us. The team carefully maneuvers through several sections of the Library. They pass a large atrium full of autonomous rotating gears. Further along, they see a Librarian tending to a large, coiled plant that resembles a Venus flytrap, before entering into a room that appears to be an indoor botanical garden. Bravo reaches into his back and puts on a facemask, motioning for the team to do the same. He then pulls out a small robot on wheels and presses a button on its back. It rolls out slowly, just out of reach of the plant. The head follows it as it rolls back and forth through the corridor. Bravo whispers to the team. Bravo: Take slow breaths. Calmly. Move slower than the robot, and only when it's going in the same direction as you. Don't trip. The team follows Bravo's instructions. This process takes approximately 25 minutes. -EXTRANEOUS FOOTAGE DELETED- 00:00:7:42:00: The team enters an atrium with the skeletons of several large anomalous creatures displayed on stands and plaques next to them. Echo and Oscar approach one skeleton. Echo: I can't make out any of this. Oscar, do you have your translator? Oscar: No, but we can send a photo back to base. O5-8: Do not. Touch. Anything. No pictures, nothing. You are unwelcome guests here, and you still have an objective. Take the left at the next fork. -EXTRANEOUS FOOTAGE DELETED- 00:00:9:18:00: The team makes it to a section with several wall-to-ceiling chalkboards. Sierra and Echo move closer to examine. O5-8: Some of these look familiar, Echo. Similar to some of Henderssohn's notes. Keep moving. You must be getting closer. ????: YOU WILL GO NO FURTHER, JAILERS. Bravo: Shit. ????: DO NOT TURN AROUND. EXIT THE LIBRARY VOLUNTARILY OR YOU WILL BE REMOVED. Oscar: Whatever happened to looking with our eyes, just not with our hands? Librarian: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO BE HERE. November turns to look at the Librarian. It is a tall, faceless figure draped in various robes that wrap around its unnaturally long torso and limbs. November: We mean no harm and no ill intent. We're simply looking for a friend. We won't touch or look at anything else, we just want to find him before he gets hurt. The Librarian lowers its head to meet hers. Librarian: WAIT HERE. TOUCH NOTHING. 00:00:9:32:00: The Librarian returns with another. The two of them scan the team for several minutes before the larger one speaks. Librarian: IT HAS BEEN DECIDED. THREE OF YOU MAY CONINUE YOUR SEARCH UNDER THE CONDITION THAT YOU TOUCH NOTHING ELSE. THE OTHERS MUST LEAVE. The Librarian taps November, Sierra, and Echo. Librarian: YOU HAVE BEEN JUDGED. GO NOW. Bravo: Why the hell are you three chosen? Sierra: I guess he likes us. Bravo eyes the three suspiciously. November: Hey, we're gonna find him and get him out. Simple. Might be easier now that we don't have to skulk around. Bravo: Sure. Command: Best to move quickly, now. We don't know how long these good graces will last. Bravo and Oscar follow the Librarian back the way they came. November, Sierra, and Echo proceed further into the Library. The Librarian returns after a while. Librarian: YOU SEEK TO FREE THE SCIENTIST. November: As best we can. She taps her mic and body cam. The Librarian appears to say something else, but its vocalizations are not picked up. November nods again. The Librarian gestures to three wooden chairs. The team sits. November: It's going to bring Dr. Henderssohn to us. Command: How convenient. Sierra: I think they'd just prefer to shorten our time here. 00:00:9:51:00: The Librarian returns with Dr. Henderssohn. The camera struggles to focus on him, and his face is obscured by static. Henderssohn: Hello, Eight. I know you're listening. O5-8: We both know how this ends, Erik. Don't fight it. You'll only make things harder for yourself and Ernest. Henderssohn: Oh, I know. I've surrendered myself to it long ago. O5-8: You're a good man, Erik. I wish things could have ended differently, but you’re alone in this. The Foundation needs more researchers as passionate as you. Henderssohn: Too bad they won't come. I believe this story does not end today, Matilda. And I'd wager I'm not alone. Sounds a door being slammed open, followed by sounds of a struggle are overheard from Command. The microphone reverberates as it is yanked from its holder. Sterling: ERIK! Henderssohn: Ernest… Sterling: Enough already! This is beyond insanity, even for you. Henderssohn: I'm sorry you still feel that way. Sterling: I stuck my neck out for your sorry ass and this is the thanks I get? You really think you and you-your gaggle of nerds can take on the Foundation? O5-8: You shouldn't be here, Director. Sterling: Don't touch me, Matilda! Henderssohn: I'm not looking to take anyone on. I want to mitigate the danger, not create more. Sterling sighs. Sterling: We're on the same side, goddammit. We need to know exactly how the anomaly works, if it works, so that we can protect people from it, or anything like it. You're putting more lives at risk by running away. The Foundation needs you. Henderssohn: The Foundation I want to work for doesn't exist. It never will. I've realized that rather than working for others and hoping that our motives align, I need to start making decisions on my own. The hard decisions. The ones nobody else wants to make. And I have made my choice. The Foundation that exists, in its righteous pursuit of securing, containing, and protecting, will take whatever steps necessary to achieve that goal, even if it means creating weapons to do so. I want no part of that Foundation. Sterling: We don't make weapons. We don't use anomalies like that. We're not the GOC, we're not the Insurgency. Henderssohn: I've given you almost everything you need to understand. Soon you will have the last piece of the puzzle. I trust you, Ernest. I know you'll do the right thing. Sterling swears as the door is slammed a second time. Henderssohn turns to November. Henderssohn: Harriet would be proud of you two. And you, as well, Echo. She was one of the best people I've met. Henderssohn hands them a slip of paper. November, Echo, and Sierra turn to each other, nod, and tear off their body cams and mics. O5-8 can be heard screaming. O5-8: You bastards! Goddamit Erik! Bravo, Oscar! The others have turned hostile! Prepare to engage, lethal force authorized! Cam footage switches to Bravo's POV. They are sitting on the tables near the entrance Way. Bravo: Fuckin' knew it. Before they can pull out their sidearms, the Librarian picks them up and flings them through the Way. They crash into the dirt outside the Library. O5-8: Forget it. Just wait, they have to leave eventually. 00:00:11:39:00: November's voice is picked up on Bravo's mic as three gun barrels point out from the shimmering air. November: Drop your weapons! Bravo and Oscar aim into the air and hold for several seconds. Bravo grimaces November: Drop your weapons! Now! O5-8: Just… do it, Bravo. There's no way to know what you're hitting. We need Henderssohn alive still. Bravo and Oscar keep aim for several more seconds before slowly lowering their pistols. November: Kick them over! They obey, and November, Sierra, and Echo exit, followed by Henderssohn, Bertrand Woss, ████████ ██████, and a group of other scientists. November walks over to Bravo, spins him around, and jams the gun into his back. November: Call for transport. Bravo slowly pulls out a walkie talkie. Bravo: Yeah, this is Bravo. We're gonna need a ride out, over. Several minutes pass before two Foundation vehicles pull up. November moves the gun to Bravo's head. Sierra does the same to Oscar. November call out. November: We're taking these cars! Everyone out, now! The drivers exit the vehicles with their hands up. November nods to Henderssohn and leads half the scientists into one car with Sierra and Echo. November, Henderssohn, Woss and others climb into the second car and drive off. Oscar runs over to his weapon, but Bravo stops him. Bravo stares after the cars, jaw tightly clenched. Following the events at Kanorado, Director Sterling submitted a letter of resignation to Site 121. It was summarily rejected by the O5 Council. MTF Lambda-11-November, -Sierra, and -Echo were listed as traitors to the Foundation. Dr. Erik Henderssohn was designated as POI-8057-1. [END LOG] Decrypting file……………75%….85% [ERROR] ENTER ENCRYPTION KEY [Koenig_Salamo] ACCEPTED ………90%….100% Complete I still dream. I dreamt of the Library, where I met Solomon. He told me I was doing good work, but there are more who think like me than I realized. He tasked me with finding them. While delving deeper into my research on 8057, I noticed something interesting. If your equipment is sensitive enough and you point it at just the right angle, it can detect thought frequencies. Now, our model of concepts and the noosphere is rudimentary at best, but it is remarkably similar to baseline physics. I had a theory that if a concept is annihilated and then reforms from the stray thought energy said annihilation creates, this thought frequency would undergo a phase shift. In layman’s terms, every multiple of its baseline frequency would indicate an annihilation-reformation event. I tested this with many concepts we had hypothesized had been annihilated before. The papers I left you are the results of that. The number next to the concept indicates how many times I've theorized it has been annihilated, based on the phase shift. Ernest, this is a weapon. We have used it before. The creatures we forgot still haunt us. Lord Blackwood may have been the first to be able to remember. Perhaps that is why they were able to step back out into the light. Perhaps now they remember what it is we did to them. Perhaps they remember how we forgot them. … … … Downloading … cherrytree.tro.ms.exe… ……………………………………………………….. WARNING: EXTERNAL SIGNAL DETECTED; ATTEMPTING AUTOMATIC SYSTEM LOCK … … … /systry.err.oo34vert3q/454345266/cmplt … … /cmd User/ override / cmd out C: / You are attempting to override a system shutdown. Enter administrative permissions to continue_ Site Director Sterling sits alone in his office. It is dark, save for the faint light from his computer, the blinking of a cursor illuminating his face. His fingers tremble. He types slowly, deliberately. He hesitates for an eternity before pressing the enter key. / U: esterling / P: * * * * * * * * * * … Permissions accepted cherrytree.exe has finished downloading. Access file?[Y] Site Director Sterling stands up, eyes wide. He knows what he needs to do. It is no wonder they hate us. Footnotes 1. Class 3 cognito-hazards can retroactively alter reality in minor ways in order to rectify their anomalous affects 2. In a similar fashion to a proton and anti-proton. 3. The collective of all concepts humans can ever conceive of. 4. A collective false memory. 5. This section of the treaty specifies that all GOC personnel above Green clearance level must remain anonymous if they are included in non-GOC documentation |
SCP-8057 | uncontained | Item #: SCP-8057 Special Containment Procedures: POI-8057 is to be tracked down by MTF Lambda-11 ("Prying Eyes") and brought before the Overseer Council for treason. Should he attempt to utilize SCP-8057 in an attempt to defend himself, tranquilizer rounds are to be used to incapacitate him. Once POI-8057 is successfully captured, all knowledge regarding SCP-8057 is to be extracted, and POI-8057 is to be terminated. Description: SCP-8057 is a Class 3 retro-causal metaphysical1 cognito-hazard that, when activated, causes the complete metaphysical annihilation of the target. This is done through SCP-8057's primary effect: the generation of an "anti-concept" specific to the target, and the subsequent merging of the concept and anti-concept2. This merging will annihilate both the target concept and its anti-concept, thereby removing the target from the noosphere and subsequently removing it conceptually from baseline reality. SCP-8057 is activated by inserting an accurate and exhaustive description of a target. The Foundation Department of Nomenclature has emphasized the necessity of specificity when activating SCP-8057 for testing (see Incident 8057-002.1). Subjects affected by SCP-8057 are irretrievable and unidentifiable. The Foundation was only able to identify SCP-8057 through its secondary effect: the production of excess "thought energy" as waste in the noosphere. This thought energy is theorized to contribute to harmful stray thoughts, continuous or spontaneous deja vu, and a mundane phenomenon colloquially known as the "Mandela effect". It is currently unknown if SCP-8057 is temporally self-normalizing. Discovery SCP-8057 was officially designated on 17/07/01 after several concepts were discovered to be missing from reality, and the human noosphere. An excerpt log of these presumed ideas has been attached below. Concept: The ninth planet in the solar system Description: Records collected by the Foundation indicate that as recently as 4 months prior to SCP-8057's discovery there existed a ninth planet in the local solar system. Despite this, no member currently on Foundation payroll can remember such a discovery, including members of the Astronomy Department. Important to note is that there is a ninth celestial object in the local solar system, that being Pluto. Concept: Berenstein Bears Description: Humanity as a whole remembers this concept as the Berenstein Bears, despite no records of this spelling existing. Imaging of the human Noosphere3 has revealed no trace of the original concept. Concept: Emotion Description: Imaging of the human Noosphere has revealed a drastically different structure in the section dedicated to emotion. This is presumed to have been due to the annihilation of prior emotional constructs, leading the Noosphere to adapt and create new ones. Researcher Henderssohn was given charge of SCP-8057 shortly following these events. Researcher Henderssohn's Logs The following logs detail Researcher Henderssohn's discovery of SCP-8057, recovered by MTF Lambda-11 Date: 12/08/01 The Foundation has always kept tabs on public trends and mass beliefs. It's exceedingly rare, but there is always a chance something anomalous crops up in the chaotic realm of the human collective consciousness. Of course, this is not new news to anyone reading. We've been like this for a while. But recently, there's been a massive surge of cases of the Mandela Effect4. And I have to admit, this has piqued my curiosity. I plan on looking into this. I'll update you all. Date: 14/08/01 I said I'd update you and here I am. I may or may not have taken a peek into the Noosphere last night, and I noticed some rather major differences in certain parts of it. It's almost like someone tore out parts of it and the Noosphere was forced to adapt by replacing it with something new. Could this be where the Mandela effect comes from? Date: 17/08/01 I found it. I think I did, anyway. I found some sort of weird concept within the Noosphere that appears to be responsible for, as I put it last time, tearing parts out of the Noosphere. But perhaps this power can be controlled? I need to experiment with this. Notes from E. Henderssohn's lecture: "On the Nature of Concepts" "How do you look for something that doesn’t exist and is conceptually annihilated, gone, no longer something we can conceive of? When something gets annihilated in a standard sense, it doesn’t just vanish. It leaves behind residue, energy, particles, something. Likewise, if you want to look for something that doesn't exist, you just have to find what it left behind. It's fascinating, really, the ways in which the models we know can be modified and adapted." On the Forming of Ideas: We actually had the incredible privilege recently of watching an idea form in the noosphere. The team, we had detected a large concentration of thought energy around the nodes of mp3 players. After a few days, this energy condensed around a new node, something called an "iPod". About a month later, Steve Jobs unveiled a new product. It takes a large quantity of energy in the noosphere for something to form around a thought node, but if one can create an idea stable enough, a new concept is born. On the Noosphere and Human Consciousness: …[M]y team was able to get their hands on some of those new metaphysical sensing devices the gang over in the Tech wing have been working on. It's allowed us to do some deep imaging of concepts in the noosphere, furthering that theory from thirty-something years ago. Concepts in the noosphere actually have a shape, a pattern that allows us to identify them. See, they start out almost like nodes, the faintest basis for an idea one might have. Then, as this idea starts to formulate and become fully realized in the human consciousness, it pulls in thoughts almost like a form of energy until eventually, a new concept is born. Experiment Log 8057.01.1 Experiments involving SCP-8057 were performed by Site 121 Researcher Dr. Erik Henderssohn, approved by Site Director Ernest Sterling. Due to the metaphysical nature of SCP-8057, Dr. Henderssohn determined that it would be impossible to know if a subject had been successfully annihilated by SCP-8057. Therefore, he and his team devised a method to monitor the noosphere for excess "thought energy". They would analyze the noospheric shape of various concepts suspected of being affected by SCP-8057 and compare their general development to that of a control concept. Experiment No. 8057.01.15.11.01 Lead: E. Henderssohn Subject: Sycamore tree Result: Standard nootropic energy. No deviations from norm. Noospheric shape resembles a hollow tube. Notes: I chose a sycamore because there's one outside my house. Must have been on my mind. Good control. Perhaps some of the next tests will show something interesting.-E. H. Experiment No. 8057.02.18.11.01 Lead: E. Henderssohn Assistant: A. Lorr Subject: Saxophone Result: Very high excess energy. Stable thought state. Suggests this item could have been conceptually unstable until reaching equilibrium in its current form. Noospheric shape resembles a series of overlapping irregular polyhedrons. Notes: Man, someone really did not want the saxophone to happen-A. L. Experiment No. 8057.03.23.11.01 Lead: E. Henderssohn Assistant: A. Lorr Subject: Famous quote from Lucasfilms movie Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back Result: Highly unstable equilibrium. Oscillates between two thought states. Suggest people believe one of two aspects of this quote to be true. Noospheric shape is two perpendicular, pulsating circles with a period of 4pi. Notes: Beginning to get a feel for things. Might be able to generate a theory with a few more experiments. Smaller scale ones I should do on my own- E.H. Makes sense. Most people believe it’s either "Luke, I am your father" or "No, I am your father". Obviously only the first one is correct, but enough people believe in the second one that it appears in the noosphere- A.L. This is all well and good, Erik, but we need to find something a bit more interesting if we want to continue research. I'm trying to get some more complex organisms to look into. Also, it’s "No, I am your father".- Sterling Site Director Sterling petitioned the Ethics Committee following several more of Henderssohn‘s experiments for a D-Class subject. As these experiments are non-invasive and purely observational, the request was approved. Experiment No. 8057.53.05.03.02 Lead: E. Henderssohn Assistant: E. Sterling Subject: D-52899 Result: [DATA EXPUNGED] Notes: It’s just science, Erik. Stop being dramatic. Looking at concepts as complex as a human person is bound to have some deviations. -Sterling I've been running these observations for months. That's not a deviation. -E.H. Email Exchange The following details correspondence between Site Director Sterling and Dr. Henderssohn following the D-Class experiment. Access SCiPNET Email? One (1) new message! Re:SUBJECT To: Erik Henderssohn ten.arap-pics|redneh.e#ten.arap-pics|redneh.e From: Ernest Sterling ten.arap-pics|rid.gnilretse#ten.arap-pics|rid.gnilretse Subject: SCP-8057 Erik, I understand your apprehension, but we need to escalate experimentation. If this anomaly is what we think it is, it could be one of the Foundation‘s greatest assets! Right now, you’re just showing some theories on what might happen if we use it. We need some more tangible results. We need to use it. Just once. Something innocuous. Something that won’t be missed. It’s secured, it’s contained. But every once in a blue moon, we use anomalies to help us protect. Just think of the bigger picture. To: Ernest Sterling ten.arap-pics|rid.gnilretse#ten.arap-pics|rid.gnilretse From: Erik Henderssohn ten.arap-pics|redneh.e#ten.arap-pics|redneh.e Subject: Re:SCP-8057 Ernest, We can’t. It doesn’t work that way. Believe me, I know. We’re missing something about this thing. It’s not just about annihilation. There’s something else. The team has been picking up a lot of stray thought energy in the Noosphere. Let us look into it. To: Erik Henderssohn ten.arap-pics|redneh.e#ten.arap-pics|redneh.e From: Ernest Sterling ten.arap-pics|rid.gnilretse#ten.arap-pics|rid.gnilretse Subject: Re:Re:SCP-8057 Erik, O5-8 has already expressed her support. We’d have the O5s, Ethics Committee, Metaphysics Safety Committee, most of the Metaphysics Department, and probably a million others all with eyes on this. I can guarantee this will be one of the safest, most secure experiments we could perform. Your team would be in total control of how testing is conducted. Can you trust me with this, Erik, please? We’ve worked together for 10 years, and I’ve never let you down. Ernest To: Ernest Sterling ten.arap-pics|rid.gnilretse#ten.arap-pics|rid.gnilretse From: Erik Henderssohn ten.arap-pics|redneh.e#ten.arap-pics|redneh.e Subject: Re:Re:Re:SCP-8057 Ernest, If it were just you, and no one else in the world, I would trust you in a heartbeat. But once the knowledge is out there, it becomes out of your control. Someone out there will see this anomaly not as a danger, but an opportunity, a statement. I want you to walk into my lab, look me in the eyes, and swear to me that no one, ever, will misuse this anomaly or treat it as a weapon. I want you to promise me that even after we’re all long buried that this anomaly will be used only in the way that you’ve prescribed, that the next O5s or the ones after that won’t change their minds. Only then will I say yes. Site Director Sterling submitted a project proposal to the O5s for approval following his conversation with Dr. Henderssohn VIDEO LOG DATE: 07/03/2002 NOTE: Video transcript of meeting between Dir. Sterling, Dr. Henderssohn, and the O5 Council. Sterling is anxiously looking over his documents, occasionally flicking his gaze towards the large double doors on the other side of the room. O5-5: You said he would be here, Director Sterling. Sterling: So did he. There’s no reason he’d miss this. O5-8: I should hope he is on board with your proposal? It will be difficult to continue a project without its lead researcher. Sterling: Yeah, he will be. He’s just a little dramatic sometimes. Several more minutes go by. Sterling shakes his head and mutters something to himself. O5-11: Just because this project has piqued our interest, doesn’t mean we can afford to sit around waiting. Sterling: I know, I know. Just… give him a couple more minutes. I’m sure he’s on his way. O5-3: Then he can fill in the blanks when he gets here. Proceed, Director. O5-8 nods to Sterling. Sterling: Alright. Well, so far we’ve been able to determine several things about the nature of SCP-8057. Firstly, it is a Class 3 cognitohazard, so already fairly dangerous. However, it is mostly innocuous. We, uh, we’re able to monitor what we believe are some of the effects of this anomaly, and we have a few theories on how to apply it or utilize it- O5-11: We know what it is and what it does, Director. Complete removal of concepts from human consciousness. Sterling: Well, yes, but it’s not just a memetic effect. It’s actually altering the noosphere. Once it’s gone, there’s no way for anyone to get it back. O5-2: And you’re proposing that we just point this thing at whatever we don’t like. I didn’t realize we had become the GOC during my time off. O5-5: We’ve attempted worse. O5-2: You’ve attempted worse. Sterling: No, no- my plan, my proposal is really just two steps. The first is just a simple proof of concept. Use the anomaly on something very mundane, something no one will notice if it’s gone. O5-11: Such as? O5-8: ████? Sterling: Sure, that works. But that’s the easy part. The second half is much more important, and the part that I think Henderssohn will most agree with. Once we can ascertain that this anomaly functions the way we’ve theorized, it gets put away. Everything you all can put in front of it, kill agents, cognitohazards, red tape that would make the UIU blush, everything. This is the thing we use when there’s nothing else left. O5-2: A last resort, then? We have plenty of those. Sterling: Not a last resort, per se. A contingency. Yellowstone‘s not gonna last forever. Neither is the eel. Wouldn’t it be better if we had something we knew would work for as long as we needed, so we didn’t have to rely on things we think might work when we need them most. Again, it’s only a button we push after everything’s gone to shit, and we need a way to restore normalcy again. The Foundation doesn’t need another Hail Mary. We need a certainty. The room is silent for a few minutes O5-11: You… do make a solid case, Director. But how do you expect a proof of concept for something that is somewhat antithetical to the whole idea of proof? Or concepts? Sterling: We’ve got some AIs in nootropic isolation. I asked around. A few dozen lines of code should be all we need. O5-2: You’ve certainly given this a lot of thought. But I would also like to hear from that second opinion you had promised would be here by now. O5-8: I think we have all the information we need. Shall we put it to a vote? The double doors slam open. Dr. Henderssohn pushes past a frustrated security officer. O5-5: Good timing, Dr. Henderssohn. We are just about to put Director Sterling's proposal to vote. All in favor? O5s-3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, and 12 raise their right hands. Henderssohn: What? Now? O5-5: All opposed? O5s- 2, 7, 11, and 13 raise their hands Henderssohn: Me, I, I oppose! I oppose all of this. I oppose your plan (He points at Sterling), I oppose your plan (He points at O5-8), too! I know you're working together on this. O5-8: You’re a little out of line, Doctor. Sterling nervously places a hand on Henderssohn‘s shoulder. Sterling: Erik, it's not like that, please- Henderssohn: No, you’re going to listen to me. Look at this. He shoves a packet of papers at the O5s and a second, larger folder at Sterling. Hendersohn: My team and I have reason to believe this anomaly has a much more pronounced effect on human thought than we initially theorized. O5-11: And what does that have to do with Director Sterling‘s proposal? Henderssohn: This is not an anomaly we can use. This isn’t anything remotely close to Thaumiel-class. This is the kind of thing that we lock away, drown it in antimemes, take a horse pill of amnestics, and pray to whatever the hell you all believe in that we never remember it again. Silence for two minutes. O5-5: That’s quite a take, Dr. Henderssohn. And you’ve come to this extreme conclusion based on… empirical data? You’ve tested the anomaly? Henderssohn stutters. Henderssohn: Uh, well, not.. not exactly. You can’t just "test" it. There'd be no way to know if it actually worked since whatever you test it on won't exist. O5-8: Not even with the nootropic isolation AIs that Director Sterling mentioned? Henderssohn: …I don’t know. But we’re not even close to that stage, and honestly I don’t think we should ever get there. This is not an anomaly to use or to test or to do anything with! Sterling: Erik… O5-8: It sounds to me like your project has stalled, and this proposal is the kick in the pants it needs to get going again. Henderssohn: I don't need a kick in the pants! I-we- need to keep doing what we've been doing. Observing conceptual models in the noosphere, building simulations off of that, and making conclusions based off of simulated data and those observations alone. We absolutely, unequivocally, do not need to test this anomaly. O5-11: Why not? What could happen? Henderssohn: I…don't know. Genuinely. But our observations of the concepts we suspect may have been annihilated in the past demonstrate a dangerous correlation. Too much chaos for stable ideas. The human consciousness turns into a muddy soup. Infinitely repeating concepts. Any one of these is the worst K -class scenario you could imagine. O5-5: That's a lot of hypotheticals. What happened to your scientific curiosity, Doctor? Don't you want to know more? Henderssohn: No. You haven't seen firsthand the things in the noosphere. Sterling: Erik, maybe you should take some time off to think about this. Sterling puts his arm around Henderssohn‘s shoulders. Sterling: You‘ve been pushing yourself too hard on this project. I think you need a break. We can talk about this later, it’s honestly not as bad as you think it is. Please, I’m a little worried about you. Henderssohn glares at him. Sterling: I’ve been your friend for a long time. I’m not trying to screw you over on this. Trust me. Henderssohn: Look me in the eyes and say it, Ernest. Sterling turns away. Henderssohn‘s expression hardens. Henderssohn: I suppose you’re right. I do need some time away from here. Sterling: Take as long as you need. We’ll be waiting for you when you get back. O5-8: Look at it this way, Doctor. If something goes wrong, you won’t be held accountable. It won’t be your fault. They leave the O5 Council meeting room. [END LOG] Director Sterling‘s proposal was approved by the O5 Council. Dr. Henderssohn was approved for an extended leave of absence following his outburst at the Council meeting. Director Sterling was appointed Interim Project Lead in Dr. Henderssohn‘s absence. The following is a record of logs from Dir. Sterling‘s lab computer: 10/03/02- It‘s been a few days, might as well get started. Some of Henderssohn‘s team has expressed displeasure at my taking the reins. I’ve informed everyone on the team that they are absolutely allowed to leave if they do not agree with the decisions I make. I’m not keeping anyone captive here. That being said, I’ve also encouraged them to come at this project with an open, scientific mind. I wouldn’t do anything Erik wouldn’t approve of. We’ll wait until he’s back to start taking any major steps towards a proof of concept. It’s not like we could either way. Erik‘s the one with the knowledge on how to get this anomaly working. Experiment No. 8057.54.11.03.02 Lead: E. Sterling Assistant: J. Zahne Subject: D-799320 Result: Normal Lorr‘s already walked out. I think James is going to follow her after today. Honestly, I’m a little envious of Erik. He’s got a loyal team. On [DATA EXPUNGED], a containment breach was detected at Site 121. Several staff were injured, and an MTF was deployed to re-contain several low level anomalies. Upon entering a storage room holding several of these anomalous devices, the MTF instead recovered a single note. I’m extending my leave indefinitely. You won’t find what you’re looking for. E. H. Site 121 was put into lockdown immediately and MTF Lambda-11 was dispatched to apprehend former Researcher Erik Henderssohn. Interview Log with Dr. Henderssohn‘s Staff Two staff members who walked out of SCP-8057‘s testing were contacted and brought in for questioning regarding Dr. Henderssohn‘s actions. Interviewer: Dir. Ernest Sterling Interviewees: Jr. Researchers Alexandra Lorr, James Zahne <BEGIN LOG> Lorr and Zahne sit opposite Sterling in a standard office meeting room. Both junior researchers are fidgeting with their chairs. Neither meet the director‘s gaze, but Zahne occasionally stares at the camera in one corner of the room. Sterling: I promise this will have no negative effects on your standing in the Foundation or your employment here. Honestly, we just want to get to the bottom of this. I’m just as worried about Erik as you are. Lorr: I'm sure you are. Sterling sighs. Sterling: I don't know what Erik's told you about me, but it's probably all true. I suppose I'll be wasting my time asking if you knew about his plan to betray the Foundation or where he's headed now? Lorr and Zahne look at each other, shrug, and look back at Sterling. He rolls back into his chair and turns to face one of the cameras Sterling: He was one of my first friends here. Still consider him one, despite all he's done. I understand why. I just made different choices. Sterling gestures to Lorr. Sterling: You know he was the one to get me hired here? Pulled my resume out of the shredder pile and taped it to the department chair's desk. He laughs to himself, rummaging around in his briefcase. He pulls out a small, silver pen and rolls it around his fingers. Sterling: I met him while getting my Master's. He was TA'ing this dynamics class I needed. Held his office hours in this tiny little room with the weirdest windows. Felt like we were in space. Sterling suddenly points the pen directly at one of the cameras. A bright red light burns through the lens before consuming the entire picture. The other three cameras follow soon after. Sterling: Mics are still on. Not much I can do about that. But, if there's anything you wanted to show me, you've got about thirty seconds. Papers are heard rustling before abruptly stopping. Zahne: You're still on the O5s side. Sterling: Yes. I still have my proposal. I'm still a site director, for now I imagine. But I swear on the Black Moon that I will not allow anyone to harm Erik. That might not mean anything to you guys, but trust me, it's a real promise. At least if I'm the one that finds him, I can make sure that we bring him back safe. There is a long pause. Lorr: Dr. Henderssohn said you never missed a lecture, even after all of your friends dropped the class. And you were the only one who came to his office. Sterling: Well that's because I was failing. A folder of papers and a small metal object are heard sliding across the desk. <END LOG> Notes: The flash drive acquired from Researchers Lorr and Zahne was confiscated by MTF Lambda-11. Agent "November" was tasked with decrypting the files stored on the drive. The sheets of paper remain in Dir. Sterling's possession, as he has refused to hand them over. Decrypting file……………10% [] Ernest, I imagine at this point you are pleading with the O5s about what to do when you finally contain me. Please, save yourself the extra stress. You won't need to worry about that. I’m not coming back. I've compiled my notes on SCP-8057 in such a way that you will be able to understand. I hope you can become the voice of reason in my stead. I trust you. Per the orders of Dir. Sterling, MTF Labmda-11 agents November, Echo, and Sierra were deployed to Omaha, Nebraska to determine the location of Bertrand Woss, an Anderson Robotics employee close to Dr. Henderssohn. MTF Lambda-11 Interview Logs Interviewers: MTF Lambda-11-November, Echo, Sierra Interviewees: Bertrand Woss Notes: Interview takes place outside a coffee shop in Omaha. MTF Lambda-11 agents were outfitted with hidden microphones and cameras. Sierra and November sit opposite Woss. Echo waits at a nearby table by the entrance. <BEGIN LOG> Woss: It must be nice talking with someone who knows who you lot are. Sierra: I'm sorry, Mr. Woss, but we're just investigating Dr. Henderssohn's disappearance- Woss: C'mon, this ain't my first rodeo. I'm a senior engineer for Anderson, I worked with some a' their weird anomalous shit. Woss leans in. Woss: For the record, your people gotta come up with better cover stories than "newspaper" or "FBI". It's getting old and obvious. 'Sides, the real FBI is way more conspicuous than you lot. He laughs. November: I suppose if we had known you were senior level, we might have been a bit more direct with our request. Regardless, our reason stays the same. Woss nods. Woss: Whaddaya wanna know? Sierra: Anything you can give us. His history at Anderson, anything he might have shared with you about his future plans, stuff like that. Woss: Whoo boy, there's a lot on the first part. That's not gonna come cheap, ya hear? Sierra and November exchange glances. November: Mr. Woss- Woss: I'm just kidding. Though it doesn't matter what I tell you, you won't get him. He's way craftier than you'd expect. Hell, I didn't know he went to the Foundation after leaving Anderson for weeks. Woss pauses, taking a drag of his cigar. Woss: You two ever heard of that oricalcum scandal at Anderson? November: We're…familiar. He and I were investigative journalists out of Portland before coming to the Foundation. Woss: Oohh, "familiar", sure, sure. Terrible what happened to Ms. Butler. Turns out, Erik had been meeting with her weeks before the story broke. Well, that whole debacle wasn't our department, anyhow. We were more on the theoretical side of things. None of that magic nonsense. I told him it didn't affect us none, but he wouldn't have it. He stormed into our supervisor's office and was gone by lunch. November: So, this isn't his first rodeo either. Woss laughs again. Woss: You could certainly say that. Sierra: You wouldn't happen to have an idea of where he's gone this time? Woss: Nope! 'spose I'll find out in a few weeks, just like last time. But I'll tell you this, he's been planning for something like this for a long time. Just in case the Foundation pushed him in the same way Anderson did. I wish you lot the best of luck. November: Thank you, Mr. Woss. <END LOG> Decrypting file……………25%….35% [] SCP-8057 is a metaphysical anomaly. I can't describe what it looks like or what it is exactly, as that would defeat the whole purpose of my actions, but I can tell you how it works. When you feed a proper description of a subject into it, SCP-8057 will go into the human noosphere and pull out what I've started calling an anti-concept of the subject. It's not quite the opposite of something, more like its inverse. When a concept and anti-concept meet, they annihilate, just like standard particles on the quantum level. With this idea as a baseline, we were able to run several simulations of this metaphysical annihilation process. These simulated subjects didn't simply vanish upon annihilation, however. They left something behind. Mass false memories, deja vu, or any number of mild memetic or antimemetic effects. That's not to say every time you experience deja vu, something has been annihilated, but if enough people experience a similar phenomenon, I would bet that it's because of this leftover thought energy. And there's something else… ████████ ███████, an agent working for the GOC, was identified by MTF Lambda-11 as a former classmate and partner of Dr. Henderssohn. The GOC approved an interview with said agent, whose name has been redacted as per Foundation-GOC Treaty of Versailles of 1946 Article 5 Section II5. Footage and transcript of interview was obtained through Foundation-GOC Treaty of London 1979 Article 3 Section I. Interviewers: MTF Lambda-11-Bravo, Oscar, November Interviewee: ████████ ██████ Notes: Interview takes place in standard GOC planning room. Two armed GOC agents stand guard at the door. <BEGIN LOG> Oscar: Thank you for meeting with us, Ms. ██████. ██████: Censors will catch that, agent. November: We're well aware. ██████: This is about Erik, isn't it? Surprised it's taken this long. Look, I know he's gone AWOL, but I don't know where. Is that all you need? Oscar: Not quite. Our records indicate that you two studied together. ██████: That's correct. Oscar: And you both started taking interest in the anomalous at around the same time. You had taken a trip to Sloth's Pit together. ██████: …yeah. Bravo: So, what sparked your interest? ██████ looks at them, deadpan. ██████: Personal matters. Oscar: Ms. ██████, we're just trying to gather as much information as we can to try and figure out where Dr. Henderssohn might have gone. ██████: I‘m sure you can look up the answers to all your questions with your fancy database. Now, is there anything else or am I free to go? November sits next to Oscar. November: I knew some of my team before working at the Foundation. We went to school together, too. ██████: Yeah? What'd you study, good cop? November: Journalism. One of the professors we really admired. She took us under her wing. She had a knack for piecing things together, but one day, she just up and vanishes. No notes, no record, just gone. Some people are just too good at their jobs. ██████ nods slowly. November: Course, we get a little too curious as to what happened, and we get scooped up by the Foundation. I guess they value reckless abandon in their field agents. We walked out of there with a job offer. She looks ██████ in the eyes. November: Do you ever remember meeting someone named Ernest Sterling while you and Dr. Henderssohn were working at that university? ██████: Huh? November: He was a student of Dr. Henderssohn‘s, I believe. ██████: Maybe? Why? November: Mr. Sterling has lost his friend, and he’s tasked us with trying to find him before he gets hurt. We don’t really know much about him, But I agree with Mr. Sterling. So, we’ve been asking around with people who were close to him, hoping we can find anything to get us closer to finding him and bringing him home. ██████ sighs. ██████: He’s passionate at what he does, and he’s good at it too. Stubborn as all hell, though. Sticks to his principles. November: That’s how we got here. ██████: He can be a real pain in the ass. When I got an offer to work here, I expected him to be excited for me, you know? But you know what he said instead? "I guess you’ll find out why they call them Book Burners." He looked so disappointed. Oscar: You belonged to the Hand? ██████ clicks her tongue and grimaces. ██████: Well… not exactly. I guess to answer your earlier question, we found a Way when we were younger, kinda by accident. It was amazing, honestly. I have no idea how long we got stuck in there, but eventually Librarians kicked us out. November: How old were you at the time? ██████: I dunno, nineteen? Twenty, maybe? I don’t really remember what we found there, but I remember Erik and I were fascinated by it. November: Have you ever been back? ██████ shakes her head. The room is silent for several minutes. ██████: I used to have dreams about the Library, but they stopped years ago. Last I talked to Erik, he still dreams. November: Do you miss it? ██████ stares at her hands. November: What made you start working for the GOC? ██████: Stability. Erik was barely able to make rent with his teaching jobs, but he never applied for anything else. He always felt personally invested in whatever he was doing. It stopped him from going outside of his comfort zone, I think. Eventually he had to realize that sometimes, a job is just a job. Pays the bills. Can’t really reinvent quantum theory from a shitty studio in a dying city. ██████ is quiet again for several minutes. When she speaks again, her voice is distant. ██████: I should, uh, get back…probably. Still have my job and all. November: Thank you for your time. ██████: …yeah. ██████ exits quickly. November and Bravo are heard conversing after she leaves, but audio is quieter. November: — can just leave him be? It doesn’t sound like he's the world ending reality bender Command made him out to be. Bravo: He‘s harboring dangerous knowledge. World ending stuff, according to the O5s. That's all the info we need. November: Did Command elaborate on that? Bravo: Nope. November: And that doesn't bother you at all? Bravo: Nope. He faces away from her. November: Ok, so we catch him and bring him back. Then what? Bravo shrugs. Bravo: Not our problem. Our job is to find him and contain him. Bravo and Oscar exit. November lingers in silence briefly before exiting. <END LOG> Note: Had to get Sierra to help with this next section. Henderssohn had it locked up good. -November Decrypting file……………50%….70% [] I‘ve always felt that I keep retreading the same paths my entire life. No matter how far I go, how much I try to never deviate, somehow, I end up back where I started, and I can see the path I’ve just walked laid out in front of me. And still I carry on. Excess thought energy is a strong foundation for forming conceptual nodes. Given time, enough energy will coalesce to form a new concept. Yes, metaphysical annihilation completely removes the concept from our collective consciousness, but something new, so slightly different takes it’s place. Holes in the noosphere are incredibly unstable and seek to reestablish equilibrium as fast as possible. But they knew that. They just want to keep rolling the dice until they can get something more manageable. WARNING: Unauthorized Access Detected. Show access log? - Close | Connecting to Sec.st121.mod.343esdcke3.msg-send-rec.32ews… | … | … | … Connection Established N: Hey sierra you there? S: Wtf N: I found a backdoor in Site 121s communications software. Cmere I need to show you something. Dont have a lot of time before Im kicked out. S: Uhhh… who is this N: Its november S: Sure it is N: Shut up and just get in here. Now S: Prove it. N: I know where your bunk is. I will go over there and kick your ass. S: Okok fine. N: Do you know what it is were doing? Like with finding Henderssohn and all that? S: I mean, yeah? We all read the same mission file. Why? N: Ive been talking to Bravo about specifics, but hes been super cagey and I got curious S: Uh oh. What did you do Accessing record_sec_feed_23438.st121.mod.343esdcke-cam_lock_dirsuite… S: The DIRECTORS SUITE? Man we are getting mega amnestitized N: Shut up and watch Video Log sec_feed23438 Director Sterling is seated at his desk, placing some documents back into a folder. O5-8 is seated across from him BEGIN LOG Sterling: These are your new procedures? O5-8: I’m sure you have some questions- Sterling: Go fuck yourself, Matilda. O5-8: Ernest. Sterling: I promised his team, MY team, that I wouldn’t let anything hurt Erik. That’s why I took this assignment. O5-8: And you can uphold that. These aren’t your procedures. You’re not the one pulling the trigger. Sterling: I might as well be! O5-8: You may not believe me, but the O5s and Dr. Henderssohn do agree on a few things regarding SCP-8057. Sterling: And what would that be? O5-8: Namely, that this anomaly is too dangerous to leave in anyone else‘s hands. It needs to be kept at the Foundation, under strict lock and key. But your friend‘s decision to run away has made him a liability to his own research. We simply can’t trust him to keep it contained. Sterling: Is that not what amnestics are for? Death seems a bit too cruel, even for you. O5-8: If we could reliably manufacture the kind of drug to wipe everything that may pose a threat to the Foundation, he would be functionally brain-dead. Death is a mercy. Sterling: Strange way to say that you just don't want him around to roadblock your authority. O5-8: It's not just about 8057 anymore. Erik knew he was digging too deep. It's what he's good at. He did it at his university. He did it at Anderson's. It's almost like he enjoys finding this kind of trouble, and then he runs away with it. Sterling visibly stiffens. Sterling: You can't stand being wrong. O5-8: Director, I am more than willing to be the villain in your story, since you need someone to blame other than yourself. But the O5s serve a very important function. We make the decisions no one else wants to live with. Sterling: How noble of you. O5-8: Would you like to be the one to consign Dr. Henderssohn to his fate? Or would you like to make a different decision? What would you do if you were wrong, no matter what you chose? O5-8 stands and grabs the folder from Sterling. O5-8: Fortunately for you, these are questions you will never have to answer. We certainly are cold, we may be cruel, some will say we are evil. But we are necessary, Ernest. She walks to the door. O5-8: If you are not capable of completing your assignment, I will have you pulled off it. And then you can wash your hands of guilt completely. But it will be done, regardless of your decision. O5-8 leaves Director Sterling‘s office. He slumps into his chair, head between his hands. END LOG S: oh N: Im not letting what happened to Harriet happen again. S: what do we do? N: We get to him first. N: … N: … N: you there? S: hey november N: yeah? S: Echo wants to help N: what S: I showed him the video. He thinks its fucked too N: Why did you do that? We dont need anyone else doing something stupid E: I asked. N: Does he understand what were planning to do? E: Yes. N: Are you sure? I wont blame you if you dont E: I am. I didnt really know Dr. Henderssohn or Harriet Butler, but I dont think I could face Alex or James if I do nothing. N: alrighty then welcome aboard, rookie. E: Bravo said they found a Way. Were shipping out soon. S: go team |… |… |… Connection lost… - Close Kanorado Way Video Logs After several months of Foundation surveillance, Bertrand Woss and ████████ ██████ were reported missing from their respective offices. Foundation agents were able to track Woss‘s cell phone to Kanorado, Kansas. MTF Lambda-11 was dispatched to intercept. The following is a video log of their encounter. VIDEO LOG: KANORADO, KS DATE: █ █/ █ █/2004 NOTE: Site Command consists of O5-8, two senior researchers from Site 121, and a psychologist from the Memetics Division. The log is transcribed from MTF Lambda-11's various body cams. [BEGIN LOG] 00:00:6:23:00: MTF Lambda-11 steps out of Foundation vehicles next to a small rock, fenced off and labelled "Mt. Sunflower". A second sign reads "Highest Point in Kansas". Lambda-11-Bravo assembles the team in front of the fence. Bravo: We keep walking until the sun meets the mountain. Then we should be in the Library. Remember, time moves differently in there, so move quickly. We don't wanna find out our only escape route is suddenly ten thousand feet in the air. Sierra: It moves with the Sun? Pretty clever. Oscar: How the hell does anyone find this all the way out here? Echo: You could probably fall in if you're lucky enough. Bravo: Quit yapping and start moving! 00:00:6:41:00: The team reaches a stretch of field where the air begins to shimmer like a bubble of soapy water. Bravo gives the signal and the team enters. They find themselves in a small corner section with a row of intricate wooden tables and chairs. Bravo and Oscar draw their weapons and take point. Bravo takes out a can and sprays the team with it. Bravo: We got about 30 minutes with each spray of this stuff. I'll reapply when the time runs out. Still can't let the Librarians get too close, but hopefully this will throw off our scent just enough so they don't make a beeline for us. The team carefully maneuvers through several sections of the Library. They pass a large atrium full of autonomous rotating gears. Further along, they see a Librarian tending to a large, coiled plant that resembles a Venus flytrap, before entering into a room that appears to be an indoor botanical garden. Bravo reaches into his back and puts on a facemask, motioning for the team to do the same. He then pulls out a small robot on wheels and presses a button on its back. It rolls out slowly, just out of reach of the plant. The head follows it as it rolls back and forth through the corridor. Bravo whispers to the team. Bravo: Take slow breaths. Calmly. Move slower than the robot, and only when it's going in the same direction as you. Don't trip. The team follows Bravo's instructions. This process takes approximately 25 minutes. -EXTRANEOUS FOOTAGE DELETED- 00:00:7:42:00: The team enters an atrium with the skeletons of several large anomalous creatures displayed on stands and plaques next to them. Echo and Oscar approach one skeleton. Echo: I can't make out any of this. Oscar, do you have your translator? Oscar: No, but we can send a photo back to base. O5-8: Do not. Touch. Anything. No pictures, nothing. You are unwelcome guests here, and you still have an objective. Take the left at the next fork. -EXTRANEOUS FOOTAGE DELETED- 00:00:9:18:00: The team makes it to a section with several wall-to-ceiling chalkboards. Sierra and Echo move closer to examine. O5-8: Some of these look familiar, Echo. Similar to some of Henderssohn's notes. Keep moving. You must be getting closer. ????: YOU WILL GO NO FURTHER, JAILERS. Bravo: Shit. ????: DO NOT TURN AROUND. EXIT THE LIBRARY VOLUNTARILY OR YOU WILL BE REMOVED. Oscar: Whatever happened to looking with our eyes, just not with our hands? Librarian: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO BE HERE. November turns to look at the Librarian. It is a tall, faceless figure draped in various robes that wrap around its unnaturally long torso and limbs. November: We mean no harm and no ill intent. We're simply looking for a friend. We won't touch or look at anything else, we just want to find him before he gets hurt. The Librarian lowers its head to meet hers. Librarian: WAIT HERE. TOUCH NOTHING. 00:00:9:32:00: The Librarian returns with another. The two of them scan the team for several minutes before the larger one speaks. Librarian: IT HAS BEEN DECIDED. THREE OF YOU MAY CONINUE YOUR SEARCH UNDER THE CONDITION THAT YOU TOUCH NOTHING ELSE. THE OTHERS MUST LEAVE. The Librarian taps November, Sierra, and Echo. Librarian: YOU HAVE BEEN JUDGED. GO NOW. Bravo: Why the hell are you three chosen? Sierra: I guess he likes us. Bravo eyes the three suspiciously. November: Hey, we're gonna find him and get him out. Simple. Might be easier now that we don't have to skulk around. Bravo: Sure. Command: Best to move quickly, now. We don't know how long these good graces will last. Bravo and Oscar follow the Librarian back the way they came. November, Sierra, and Echo proceed further into the Library. The Librarian returns after a while. Librarian: YOU SEEK TO FREE THE SCIENTIST. November: As best we can. She taps her mic and body cam. The Librarian appears to say something else, but its vocalizations are not picked up. November nods again. The Librarian gestures to three wooden chairs. The team sits. November: It's going to bring Dr. Henderssohn to us. Command: How convenient. Sierra: I think they'd just prefer to shorten our time here. 00:00:9:51:00: The Librarian returns with Dr. Henderssohn. The camera struggles to focus on him, and his face is obscured by static. Henderssohn: Hello, Eight. I know you're listening. O5-8: We both know how this ends, Erik. Don't fight it. You'll only make things harder for yourself and Ernest. Henderssohn: Oh, I know. I've surrendered myself to it long ago. O5-8: You're a good man, Erik. I wish things could have ended differently, but you’re alone in this. The Foundation needs more researchers as passionate as you. Henderssohn: Too bad they won't come. I believe this story does not end today, Matilda. And I'd wager I'm not alone. Sounds a door being slammed open, followed by sounds of a struggle are overheard from Command. The microphone reverberates as it is yanked from its holder. Sterling: ERIK! Henderssohn: Ernest… Sterling: Enough already! This is beyond insanity, even for you. Henderssohn: I'm sorry you still feel that way. Sterling: I stuck my neck out for your sorry ass and this is the thanks I get? You really think you and you-your gaggle of nerds can take on the Foundation? O5-8: You shouldn't be here, Director. Sterling: Don't touch me, Matilda! Henderssohn: I'm not looking to take anyone on. I want to mitigate the danger, not create more. Sterling sighs. Sterling: We're on the same side, goddammit. We need to know exactly how the anomaly works, if it works, so that we can protect people from it, or anything like it. You're putting more lives at risk by running away. The Foundation needs you. Henderssohn: The Foundation I want to work for doesn't exist. It never will. I've realized that rather than working for others and hoping that our motives align, I need to start making decisions on my own. The hard decisions. The ones nobody else wants to make. And I have made my choice. The Foundation that exists, in its righteous pursuit of securing, containing, and protecting, will take whatever steps necessary to achieve that goal, even if it means creating weapons to do so. I want no part of that Foundation. Sterling: We don't make weapons. We don't use anomalies like that. We're not the GOC, we're not the Insurgency. Henderssohn: I've given you almost everything you need to understand. Soon you will have the last piece of the puzzle. I trust you, Ernest. I know you'll do the right thing. Sterling swears as the door is slammed a second time. Henderssohn turns to November. Henderssohn: Harriet would be proud of you two. And you, as well, Echo. She was one of the best people I've met. Henderssohn hands them a slip of paper. November, Echo, and Sierra turn to each other, nod, and tear off their body cams and mics. O5-8 can be heard screaming. O5-8: You bastards! Goddamit Erik! Bravo, Oscar! The others have turned hostile! Prepare to engage, lethal force authorized! Cam footage switches to Bravo's POV. They are sitting on the tables near the entrance Way. Bravo: Fuckin' knew it. Before they can pull out their sidearms, the Librarian picks them up and flings them through the Way. They crash into the dirt outside the Library. O5-8: Forget it. Just wait, they have to leave eventually. 00:00:11:39:00: November's voice is picked up on Bravo's mic as three gun barrels point out from the shimmering air. November: Drop your weapons! Bravo and Oscar aim into the air and hold for several seconds. Bravo grimaces November: Drop your weapons! Now! O5-8: Just… do it, Bravo. There's no way to know what you're hitting. We need Henderssohn alive still. Bravo and Oscar keep aim for several more seconds before slowly lowering their pistols. November: Kick them over! They obey, and November, Sierra, and Echo exit, followed by Henderssohn, Bertrand Woss, ████████ ██████, and a group of other scientists. November walks over to Bravo, spins him around, and jams the gun into his back. November: Call for transport. Bravo slowly pulls out a walkie talkie. Bravo: Yeah, this is Bravo. We're gonna need a ride out, over. Several minutes pass before two Foundation vehicles pull up. November moves the gun to Bravo's head. Sierra does the same to Oscar. November call out. November: We're taking these cars! Everyone out, now! The drivers exit the vehicles with their hands up. November nods to Henderssohn and leads half the scientists into one car with Sierra and Echo. November, Henderssohn, Woss and others climb into the second car and drive off. Oscar runs over to his weapon, but Bravo stops him. Bravo stares after the cars, jaw tightly clenched. Following the events at Kanorado, Director Sterling submitted a letter of resignation to Site 121. It was summarily rejected by the O5 Council. MTF Lambda-11-November, -Sierra, and -Echo were listed as traitors to the Foundation. Dr. Erik Henderssohn was designated as POI-8057-1. [END LOG] Decrypting file……………75%….85% [ERROR] ENTER ENCRYPTION KEY [Koenig_Salamo] ACCEPTED ………90%….100% Complete I still dream. I dreamt of the Library, where I met Solomon. He told me I was doing good work, but there are more who think like me than I realized. He tasked me with finding them. While delving deeper into my research on 8057, I noticed something interesting. If your equipment is sensitive enough and you point it at just the right angle, it can detect thought frequencies. Now, our model of concepts and the noosphere is rudimentary at best, but it is remarkably similar to baseline physics. I had a theory that if a concept is annihilated and then reforms from the stray thought energy said annihilation creates, this thought frequency would undergo a phase shift. In layman’s terms, every multiple of its baseline frequency would indicate an annihilation-reformation event. I tested this with many concepts we had hypothesized had been annihilated before. The papers I left you are the results of that. The number next to the concept indicates how many times I've theorized it has been annihilated, based on the phase shift. Ernest, this is a weapon. We have used it before. The creatures we forgot still haunt us. Lord Blackwood may have been the first to be able to remember. Perhaps that is why they were able to step back out into the light. Perhaps now they remember what it is we did to them. Perhaps they remember how we forgot them. … … … Downloading … cherrytree.tro.ms.exe… ……………………………………………………….. WARNING: EXTERNAL SIGNAL DETECTED; ATTEMPTING AUTOMATIC SYSTEM LOCK … … … /systry.err.oo34vert3q/454345266/cmplt … … /cmd User/ override / cmd out C: / You are attempting to override a system shutdown. Enter administrative permissions to continue_ Site Director Sterling sits alone in his office. It is dark, save for the faint light from his computer, the blinking of a cursor illuminating his face. His fingers tremble. He types slowly, deliberately. He hesitates for an eternity before pressing the enter key. / U: esterling / P: * * * * * * * * * * … Permissions accepted cherrytree.exe has finished downloading. Access file?[Y] Site Director Sterling stands up, eyes wide. He knows what he needs to do. It is no wonder they hate us. Footnotes 1. Class 3 cognito-hazards can retroactively alter reality in minor ways in order to rectify their anomalous affects 2. In a similar fashion to a proton and anti-proton. 3. The collective of all concepts humans can ever conceive of. 4. A collective false memory. 5. This section of the treaty specifies that all GOC personnel above Green clearance level must remain anonymous if they are included in non-GOC documentation |
SCP-8058 | safe | Two unused SCP-8058 instances, four days after purchase. Item #: SCP-8058 Object class: Safe Containment procedures: Stores in North America and Oceania are to be monitored and any appearance of SCP-8058 is to be purchased or seized. A box of SCP-8058 has thus far consistently contained exactly 1,500 instances of the item, and agents are tasked to retrieve all of them, including their individualized packaging. Instances of SCP-8058 are permitted for use by Foundation personnel for non-anomalous electrical appliances, provided each instance is formally documented. Spent instances are to be sealed in the dedicated biohazard dump at Site 633 (León). Description: SCP-8058 is a collection of over 2,600,000 1.2–volt batteries, each independently packed in transparent plastic packaging with a brown cardboard back. Each battery has the words "The Factory" printed on it, and is filled with 0.3 milliliters of human blood1 rather than a typical electrolyte liquid. Instances of SCP-8058 function for three months after they are purchased, regardless of how much they are used in this period. Instances of SCP-8058 forcefully seized do not "activate" until they are traded for money. Instances of SCP-8058 begin to leak and rapidly rust after "activation", regardless of use. After exactly 91 days, SCP-8058 instances invariably break apart. Unmarked boxes of SCP-8058 appear during shipments to grocery stores and consumer electronics stores in Mexico, the south-western United States, and New Zealand. Investigations have been unable to determine the origin of these shipments. Though shipments of SCP-8058 are often reported and easily intercepted, it is believed that at least 200,000 instances of SCP-8058 remain uncontained. The backing carton of each SCP-8058 package is handwritten with permanent marker. Most of these packages are covered entirely by illegible scribbles, but some instances have some legible writing on them, as documented in Addendum-01. Addendum 8058-1: Variations of SCP-8058 packaging by order of documentation. Transcript includes translations of Spanish where necessary. [Illegible scribbles] Nearly all packaging only bears this type of content. For the (currently incomplete) catalogue of scans, please access the Site-7 database. "[Help me!] Help" Variations of calls for aid and panic are the second most common message type, constituting up to 0.1% of all instances. ["Shackles hurt"] "[The monsters don't care what we write? SP]" Only known reference to potentially anomalous entities. "[Here]" [illustration] Image is hypothesized to represent a set of three hills. No such geological feature has been identified. ["Day 9? Ortiz still insists his father will save us. How can you hold onto hope? SP"] "[Yun stopped writing for them. SP]" "Why Why Why Why Wh" The first of only 38 instances discovered to be written fully in English. "[Fuck you]" Only instance discovered in Korean. "[fountain, or source]" [Illustration of an individual] "[Yun's back. Her legs were crushed into stumps. SP]" "RIP Ortiz ❤" Three variations of this text have been discovered in total. "[My wrists hurt so much. SP]" "Good battery. 2¢" 24 similar packagings were discovered in the same batch. Addendum 8058-2: On December 4, 2023, a Spanish-language document was discovered in an SCP-8058 shipment. A translation is provided: [Reveal attachment] [Hide attachment] Maria carried this napkin on her, and Ortiz lent me this pen. I am thankful to them, as we do not have many personal items left. Of course, the monsters would’ve taken these and incinerated them soon anyway. Ortiz thinks I’m crazy that I am willing to write anything still, but maybe these words will reach someone if the packaging doesn't. It is the only subversive thing I can think of doing. There is nothing else to do during the free hours. Maria says the factory of death is in an infinite, red, hilly desert. No one else has seen the outside, we woke up here. The walls are thick and metal, the lighting artificial and wrong. It keeps us awake, always. The smells are chemical, but there is no run-off. All the fluids from the source are used. We are alone for four hours each day, we must be silent and work the rest. The shackles are only removed when the crusher is used. Arlo was Emilia says she was here years before my group came. Her wrists are shattered but she writes in any way she can. I do not have the resilience. I may sign up as a source. It is better. [other side] I sometimes hear screams from beyond the walls. The food We do not talk about the food. Please save us Please save us Please save us The description of the facility has not been matched to any building. Additional resources for full documentation and digitization of SCP-8058 packaging is pending Site-██ director approval. Addendum 8058-3: Between June 2 and June 13, 2020, 37 individuals were reported missing in Sonora, Mexico. In January 2024, the body of one of these individuals2 was discovered in a narrow crevice in the Red Cliffs National Conservation Area, Utah. The body was fully drained of all its blood, likely extracted from the 11,950 punctures on the body. The body was cleanly shaven throughout. Both of its wrists were broken, and the wrist muscles were torn completely. The body was also missing its eyes, though these may have been removed by scavengers before discovery. DNA tests matched the remains to the liquid in three of the batteries. The body is stored in cool storage in Site-██. Addendum 8058-4: Upon chemical analysis, the cardboard packaging is discovered to consist of a mixture of epithileal tissue, muscle tissue, and cartilage. Chemical analysis of the battery casing is currently pending. SCP-8058, 88 days after purchase. [Level 4 Clearance required] — SCP-8058 usage log SCP-8058 usage log Site Employee Purpose Number of instances Authorized Site-██ Researcher ████ Functionality testing 10 ✓ Site-107 Junior researcher Simons Material testing 20 ✓ Site-██ Researcher ████ Functionality testing 100 ✓ Site-██ Researcher ████ Functionality testing 20 ✓ Site-██ Researcher ████ Use in portable computing device 4 ✓ Site-██ Agent ██████ Use in flashlight 2 ✓ Site-██ Agent ███████ Use in flashlight 2 ✓ Site-██ Agent ████ Use in flashlight 2 ✓ Site-██ Agent █████████ Use in flashlight 2 ✓ Site-██ Researcher ███ Use in TV remote 2 ✓ Site-██ Researcher █████ Use in GameBoy Advance 2 ✓ Site-██ Agent ██████ Use in flashlights 8 ✓ Site-██ Dr. Cox Cross-testing with SCP-███ 60 ✓ Site-██ Researcher ███ Use in assorted toys 8 ✓ Site-██ Researcher ███ Use in TV remote 10 ✓ Site-██ Researcher █████ Use in GameBoy Advance 10 ✓ Site-██ Dr. Cox Cross-testing with SCP-████ 2,000 ✓ Site-██ Agent ██████ Use in flashlights 32 ✓ Site-██ Dr. Cox Cross-testing with SCP-████ 10,000 ✓ Following extensive usage of SCP-8058, Level 4 authorization is no longer required. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8058" by Maplestrip, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8058. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Leaked_zinc-carbon.jpg Author: Lukas A, CZE License: Declared Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Leaked_zinc-carbon.jpg Filename: Old battery1.jpg Author: Eliran t License: CC BY-SA 4.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Old_battery1.jpg Filename: The fourteen cardboard messages Author: Maplestrip License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Footnotes 1. Approximately 0.6% of all instances are filled with bile. 0.2% of instances are filled with aqueous humour. At least 45 instances are filled with cerebrospinal fluid. These all function identically to those filled with blood. Seven instances of SCP-8058 have been discovered filled with urine, but these do not function in any way. 2. Simeón Perez, born 2001 |
SCP-8059 | thaumiel | close Info X SCP-8059: IBM Chronoscope Author: BobDeblonde Co-Authors: DrRichardMortis Thanks for checking out my first work! If you have any suggestions or feedback, please leave a comment or send a PM; I am always looking to improve. Item#: 8059 Level2 Secondary Class: thaumiel Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: notice link to memo Special Containment Procedures: Sub Level 3 of Site 223 is to be guarded at all times by at least one Level 2 security officer and monitored for tachyon interference 24/7. In case of unauthorized entry, the Director of Temporal Research1 and the Site Director2 must be notified immediately and the suspect held for questioning. Usage is restricted to Level 2 personnel or personnel with 2-8059 clearance. No food or drink is allowed within the containment area. Discovery: During the renovation of Provisional Site 2233, an earthquake caused serious plumbing damage to the newly finished Temporal Research Wing.4 Ground penetrating radar detected large empty spaces beneath the site, and an exploration crew was tasked to gain access to these caverns. Upon reentry to the site they found 15 previously unknown basement levels with fully furnished offices and laboratories. All rooms were non-anomalous except for residual tachyon radiation, which emanated from the location of 8059 on Sub Level 3. Central Processing Unit for SCP-8059 Description: SCP-8059 is a collection of anomalously connected computer equipment, currently located underneath the Temporal Research Wing at Site 223. The anomaly resembles an early 60's IBM 1401 Mainframe (SCP-8059-A) with an attached Kodak Instamatic 8mm Film Projector (SCP-8059-B). When discovered, 8059-A was partially waterlogged due to a burst pipe, damaging part of the mainframe, as well as several recovered documents. To date ~80% of the machine seems to function. 8059-A has a placard containing the name "IBM Chronoscope".5 Documents recovered during the object's discovery include typical IBM order forms and an IBM order receipt for one Chronoscope, made out to South Creek Prototyping (a Foundation shell company) dated ██/██/████.6 This shell company did not exist at the time of discovery, and there are no Foundation records of this purchase. While 8059-A externally resembles a typical mainframe computer; the interior anomalously re-configures itself whenever not directly observed. Examples include clockwork machinery, electrical wiring, [DATA EXPUNGED], human neural tissue, etc. This unstable element of 8059-A's inner workings unfortunately makes repairs almost impossible. 8059-B has been modified to accept standard IBM magnetic tape instead of 8mm film, playing the tape contents as a movie. 8059-B turns on automatically when magnetic tape from 8059-A is inserted. Along the side is a play/pause button and slider labeled "Playback Speed" with 6 options. Testing has shown that the speeds correspond as follows: Playback Speed Time Elapsed Slider set to x1 Normal Speed Slider set to x2 1 Hour/Minute Slider set to x4 1 Day/Minute Slider set to x8 1 Week/Minute Slider set to x16 1 Year/Minute When inserting a blank IBM 80-Column punch card into 8059-A, the machine will turn on. By using the punch card printer included on all 1401 models, the user can choose a single date, event, and change to make. Once the selections have been made, the machine will spool a roll of magnetic tape and begin transcribing data. After a variable amount of time, the spool will be ejected with a label containing the date chosen and change requested. Inserting this spool into 8059-B will start a playback of past events, starting from the beginning of the date chosen. The projection will continue until the chosen event starts, upon which the selected change will occur. 8059-B will continue to play an alternate recollection of events based on the change made, until the current date is reached. Any information related to temporal technology is redacted from the projection. Note from the Department of Temporal Research: All tapes generated by 8059 must be surrendered to Archives after testing. Our goal is to understand how 8059 works, not use it to make alternate history documentaries for the breakroom. To request a copy of a previously created tape, make a formal request through SCiPNET like everyone else. Addendum A: _ Classified Level 4-8059Close Report On July 23, 1987, the automated containment alarm for SCP-8059 was tripped due to detection of a controlled tachyon burst and subsequent CCTV blackout within Sub Level 3. Security was scrambled to SCP-8059, and upon arrival found a floppy disk partially hidden underneath the central console of 8059-A. The disk was addressed to Site Director Darryl Combs and contained an O5 authorization code and an email. After memetic testing came back negative and the code verified for authenticity the disk was delivered. Below is a copy of its contents. Confidential Memorandum Classified Level 4-8059 Received July 23, 1987 From: [email protected], [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: FWD: FWD: FWD: FWD: FWD: FWD: FWD: Containment Breach Darryl, I'm going to keep things simple; lord knows you're about to have enough on your plate. Exactly 38 years from the day this memo arrives you are going to go into 8059's binder and pull out an IBM order form. On this form you will order exactly ONE IBM Chronoscope. You are going to email this form to IBM. You will then wait for Site 223 to disappear. It's the only way we've found to close the loop. Every time Site 223 is created to try and fix that damn nexus, 8059 shows up. If you don't send 8059 back the timeline breaks, and everyone has a very bad day. I got the exact same memo when I was site director, and you'll have to send the same one too. I have the O5's on my ass about this, so don't fuck it up. See you in a bit. Ps: The whole site won't disappear by the way, just everything underground. Minor structural damage, I promise. Darryl Combs, Director of Site 223-2 Secure, Contain, Protect ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8059" by BobDeblonde, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8059. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Unità di controllo e processore per Sistema IBM 1401 - Museo scienza tecnologia Milano 08793.jpg Name: Unità di controllo e processore per Sistema IBM 1401 - Museo scienza tecnologia Milano 08793 Author: I.B.M. Italia (costruttore/ produttore/ progettista) License: CC BY-SA 4.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Email component borrowed from: "Dr. Cimmerian Hits Reply All" by Uncle Nicolini, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/cimmerian-sends-650-pms. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. Footnotes 1. Currently Dr. Richard Mortis. 2. Currently Dr. Darryl Combs. 3. Originally created to research possible nexus activity in the region. Made an official site after confirmation of nexus formation. 4. Site 223 does not rest on any known fault lines, and the epicenter was later found to be in the exact location of 8059. 5. No IBM product exists with this moniker. 6. Redacted by order of Temporal Enforcement. |
SCP-8060 | keter | You're so good at putting yourselves into us. Why can't we put ourselves into you? A bit of a double standard if you ask me. close Info X ⚠️ Content warning: This article contains body horror, unreality, gore, self harm and eye straining imagery. This article is not suitable for young readers. ⚠️ content warning Promotional art for Societown. Item #: SCP-8060 Special Containment Procedures: Regarding Incident 8060-ALC, suppressing knowledge of SCP-8060 is considered a higher priority than testing, which is hereby postponed until further notice. The cover story of SCP-8060 being an online hoax is to be spread throughout public consciousness. Discussion related to SCP-8060 must be closely monitored and halted in the case of any communication of its discovery. In the event that SCP-8060's anomaly is exacerbated to the point that any significant knowledge of the television show Societown is enough to trigger its anomalous properties, Site-433 is to initiate a widescale operation consisting of the complete destruction of any and all records of Societown. This includes merchandise, fan-produced works, online discussions, and human memories. Said operation is considerably resource extensive, and must only be performed as a last resort. Any recovered SCP-8060-affected individuals are to be examined for physical or mental anomalies, to determine if they are fit to be amnesticized and released. If the individual affected is unfit to be released, they are to be contained within a standard humanoid containment cell for the purposes of examination and experimentation. Personnel are advised to distance themselves from discussion of the anomaly if they find themselves discovering any new or unusual information on SCP-8060's whereabouts. Description: SCP-8060 is the unreleased series finale of Societown, an educational animated children's show produced by GoI-411 ("Sputnik Studios")1, and the anomalous phenomenon surrounding said finale. A summary of the premise of Societown can be read below. Excerpt from www.sputniktoons.com2 It's tough learning lessons the hard way, especially when you're a kid. It can often be a bit frightening! Sometimes, it makes it difficult to want to try at all. Grady Mitchell knew this feeling all too well… he just never knew the right things to say! At least, that was until one special day when he and his friends discovered a lovely bridge within the outskirts of their humble home. Across that bridge, Societown awaits! A magical realm full of many wonderful and patient creatures, ready to share their boundless knowledge to those in need of some advice. Join Grady, Susie, and Richelle as they discover that learning to do the right thing doesn't have to be scary. Just remember to say please! Societown was first aired on the Sputstation3 "Little Cadets" block from 2001 to 2010, and reruns remain in syndication. Home media for Societown is still popular with parents of neuroatypical4 children, and it remains one of Sputnik Studios' most popular and successful shows to date. Episodes of Societown were each 24 minutes long, and typically contained two individual 12-minute stories. In most plotlines, the characters Grady, Susie and Richelle would encounter a resident of Societown (a "Societ") and help them to resolve a problem by utilizing a specific social skill. SCP-8060's episode title is known as "Acceptance & Saying Goodbye".5 According to a promotional summary, it involved the protagonists of Societown having to move from their hometown, forcing the three characters to come to terms with leaving the titular magical town behind. Specific details beyond this are scarce, but it is believed that SCP-8060 was being developed with the goal to bring the series to a close, to teach viewers how to cope with loss or change, and to reflect on the events and lessons taught throughout the series. SCP-8060's anomalous properties are activated when a human subject actively seeks out previously unrecovered information regarding it. Unrecovered information includes, but is not limited to: Detailed transcript of the events of SCP-8060; Storyboard and production materials relating to SCP-8060; Commercial teasers of SCP-8060; The production timeline of SCP-8060; The whereabouts of Horris Curmen and Della Mornt. When a subject intentionally searches for undisclosed information regarding SCP-8060, they are always capable of discovering a plausible way of recovering the desired information. The medium varies depending on the methods used to search, with digital formats being the most commonly discovered during the early stages. Attempting to follow up on any of this information is often difficult, to the extent that it may confuse some individuals or discourage them from continuing to engage with the anomaly, as it typically directs them to unintuitive and unconventional sources. An example of a physical object manifested by SCP-8060, photographed by parawatch.net user "aha".6 Subjects continuing to research past this point will have physical items relating to the undisclosed information manifest in areas the subject frequents, situated in places the subject would be highly likely to discover them in. The information portrayed within these items is usually cryptic and personally intriguing to the subject. Those researching SCP-8060 at this stage will experience brief dissociative episodes, followed by intense audiovisual hallucinations. These hallucinations typically involve characters from Societown giving the subject advice relating to their search, but have also included unrelated and bizarre occurrences.7 Although those experiencing these hallucinations are often aware of their abnormal nature, many have expressed an intensified feeling of curiosity upon witnessing them. It is unknown if this is the result of an anomalous influence. By combining elements from information they have gathered8 up to this point, the subject is able to acquire the location of an abandoned and typically isolated building near them in the form of coordinates. Subjects will invariably believe that these coordinates lead to the missing information they were seeking. The dissociative and hallucinatory episodes will not dissipate until the subject follows through the rest of the SCP-8060 discovery process. If the subject reaches the coordinates by any means, the abandoned building's entryways will lead to an extradimensional space hereby referred to as SCP-8060-A, only accessible to the affected subject. The building affected by SCP-8060 is not anomalous under other conditions. After an indeterminable amount of time, subjects will return from SCP-8060-A through the same passage they entered through. 25% of subjects who have entered SCP-8060-A have not returned. iPhone capture within SCP-8060-A. SCP-8060-A consists of an expansive and substantially altered reality of unknown makeup resembling the titular town from Societown, populated by a large number of Alucinari-class entities9 that vary wildly in appearance, collectively referred to as SCP-8060-B. Some SCP-8060-B entities have been reported to resemble characters from Societown, although most others recorded differ unpredictably in appearance and behavior. Further information regarding SCP-8060-B instances is difficult to conclude.10 Events and processes transpiring within SCP-8060-A are poorly understood, as almost all data is in the form of personal accounts from subjects who have returned. Records from within SCP-8060-A are distorted and manipulated by unknown means and to an unknown extent, although not to the point of unintelligibility. Subjects having exited SCP-8060-A are typically left with lasting psychological and biological alterations, which can vary in severity and visibility. This has been noted to cause difficulty for some subjects to properly communicate the information they learned or gathered while within SCP-8060-A. The log below contains a few examples of alterations, aligned from least to most severe. + Alteration Example Log - Alteration Example Log Subject Effects Researcher Notes D-1711 D-1711 was recovered with two metallic growths upon his head, resembling television antenna. An X-ray scan concluded that the antenna were protruding through the skull. Aside from annoyance that the antenna "didn't work here", D-1711 was otherwise psychologically stable. D-1711 described his experience within SCP-8060-A as "riveting". I asked D-1711 to elaborate on what he meant by the antenna not working. All he said to me was that he was "not about to explain how antennas work to a bunch of scientists". Smartass. D-6921 D-6921 exited SCP-8060-A gagging and nearly suffocating, and regurgitated a grossly distended and discolored eyeball that burst on the ground into bright green, rapidly sublimating fluid. Afterwards, D-6921 gave a thumbs up gesture. Ultrasound imaging revealed several foreign objects11 embedded in the subject's internal organs, as well as heavily saturated viscera. D-6921 also expresses an acute fear of "magic", which intensifies when presented with fantasy iconography. I passed by his chamber yesterday, and I could hear him muttering some sick shit under his breath. Not sure I'm comfortable repeating it here. I'm fairly baffled, considering this anomaly is entwined with a children's show. D-1121 D-1121 appeared physically and psychologically unchanged12 after exiting SCP-8060-A. However, it became evident afterward that her appearance was gradually changing at a rate that, while imperceptible, was still much faster than human biology would permit. This process seems to be significantly accelerated when D-1121 is not visually observed. D-1121 typically maintains a general resemblance to her initial appearance prior to entering SCP-8060-A. However, on some rare occasions, she spontaneously gains or entirely loses facial features or extremities, or develops severely distorted proportions. These incidents do not last more than several milliseconds before reverting to a conventional body structure. We have an image of her with her eyes misaligned, an image of her holding up seven fingers, we even have one where she looks like a smear on the camera. And yet, when we show her, she recognizes herself every time. We're not sure if she's in denial or if something's up with her head. I figure the latter. D-1202 D-1202 exited SCP-8060-A with no physical differences, aside from small specks of acrylic paint on her jumpsuit. However, D-1202 began to display uncharacteristically considerate and sociable behavior. It should be noted that D-1202 was found guilty of [DATA EXPUNGED] before being taken into Foundation custody, and was incredibly reclusive and hostile to Foundation staff before this change in behavior. When asked, D-1202 claimed to have "learned a valuable lesson". Said "lesson" is different every time D-1202 is asked to elaborate. Knowing what she's done, I don't think she deserves a second chance. That being said, she was one of the few that was able to actually give us some new information regarding SCP-8060. Apparently, they managed to get Gilbert Gottfried as a guest star. We still don't know for what character though. Fantastic. D-8321 D-8321 returned from SCP-8060-A demonstrating intense projected synesthesia and visual agnosia, rendering her incapable of distinguishing different objects or even different types of environmental stimulus. D-8321 no longer responds to human speech or writing, and is usually unaware of the presence of other human beings. The subject frequently appears confused about their surroundings, even after several weeks, but almost never alarmed or upset. The lady was very conversated with a candle. Fresh linen scented. It's the reason why we were even able to get any information out of her. She called that candle "Caulfield". Couldn't help but be reminded of that Cast Away flick from the 2000s, the way she was so invested in her discussion. D-321 D-321 is unresponsive, being host to an Alucinari-class entity referring to itself as "Fuzznuzz". Fuzznuzz currently manifests as a pair of plastic googly eyes stuck upon D-321's eye sockets, along with a diffuse mass of colorful pipe cleaners entangled around and constricting the subjects brain. It is unclear how D-321's brain has not yet hemorrhaged from the pressure inflicted by the pipe cleaners. Fuzznuzz is manic and unstable, throwing tantrums when not granted access to art supplies. SCP classification is pending. Don't accept any gifts from that thing. Most subjects vocally reflect on their experience within SCP-8060-A positively, even if evidence suggests otherwise. Common descriptors of what transpires within SCP-8060-A involve an "adventure" or "quest" for the information the subject entered in search of. Further elaboration eventually devolves into nonsensical rambling. When a subject returns from SCP-8060-A and is capable of reporting newly-discovered information relating to SCP-8060, that information is no longer subject to SCP-8060's anomalous effects, and will not cause any anomalous incidents if directly or indirectly conveyed to other individuals. A full list of recovered information regarding SCP-8060 may be granted upon request. Robert Louis Arnold. Discovery: SCP-8060 was first brought to the attention of the Foundation through the activity of Robert Louis Arnold13, who was reported missing by his family on April 19th, 2021. Arnold had run a moderately successful online video channel centered on reviewing and discussing children's animation, and released a video titled "The Societown Finale Is Not Gone" three days before his disappearance. This video was superficially notable for being posted outside of Arnold's typical schedule, being several times longer than Arnold's other published videos, and for its unusual style: Arnold was erratic and appeared to be in poor health, and the video seemed to be both unscripted and unedited. In the video, Arnold presents evidence for the current existence of complete copies of "Acceptance & Saying Goodbye", and explains his process of collecting that evidence. Researcher Rowan Raster, of Site-433, was unable to reproduce Arnold's steps, as many of his sources of information did not appear to exist, but during the investigation he inadvertently activated the anomalous properties of SCP-8060. Upon discovering this, Raster disengaged14 and documented the anomalous characteristics. To date, 19 disappearances have been conclusively linked to SCP-8060, with the majority of cases being individuals involved in "lost media" communities. Two members of production staff at Sputnik Studios, Horris Curmen15 and Della Mornt16, have been missing since the production of Societown was completed. All other members of production staff associated with Societown are accounted for, and demonstrate no anomalous properties or symptoms. It is currently unknown why the disappearances of Curmen and Mornt were never formally reported. ATTENTION: THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION IS RESTRICTED TO SITE-433 STAFF Footnotes 1. Sputnik Studios was a California-based animation studio founded in 1985, since discovered to be in possession of several poorly-understood paratechnological constructs that anomalously affected their production speed, creative output, and company reputation. The company was responsible for producing around ███ pieces of media, with a total of ██ gaining anomalous properties at the time of writing. Site-433 was primarily built in order to follow the endeavors of Sputnik Studios closely. Sputnik Studios has become defunct as of 2021. 2. Now defunct on account of Adobe no longer supporting Flash Player. 3. A television channel owned by Sputnik Studios. 4. A term used to broadly describe people with a range of cognitive developmental disorders and mental disabilities. 5. While the series was primarily episodic, with minimal emphasis on serial continuity, some episodes would uncommonly be composed of a single 24-minute-long story introducing a new character or plot element. 6. User later reported the object as a "red herring". 7. Notably, none of these hallucinations have been reported to involve the characters Grady, Susie, or Richelle. 8. Often by esoteric means which would not normally provide any valid solutions. 9. [DATA EXPUNGED] 10. As is typical of most Alucinari-class entities, which occupy a broad and irrational category. 11. Examples include an unbranded bag of potato chips, an undigested hamburger, intravenous syringes, sour gummy worms, and a pornographic magazine. 12. Aside from the expected, temporary reaction to the experience. 13. Known online under the name SnoopysDoghouse100. 14. For that time (see Incident 8060-ALC). 15. Voice actor 16. Editor |
SCP-8061 | safe | NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION RECORDS AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION Important: Divulging the existence of SCP-8061 to anyone outside the Foundation or of insufficient security clearance is strictly prohibited and will be immediately met with disciplinary action, and if necessary, the revocation of Foundation privileges and termination. It is forbidden to discuss SCP-8061 through any unauthorized channels including all forms of electronic communication. Thank you for your cooperation. — Maria Jones, Director, RAISA An elite Taekwondo fighter executing a kick that is similar to SCP-8061. Item #: SCP-8061 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8061 cannot spread independently due to its particular intangible nature. Thus, by concealing knowledge of SCP-8061 appropriately, it can be safely and effectively contained. To prevent containment breaches, when discussing or referencing this object among Foundation personnel, it is imperative to exercise sound judgment and avoid individuals who are overly zealous about martial arts, regardless of their position or designation. Human curiosity and carelessness are never to be underestimated. Description: SCP-8061 is a martial arts technique attributed to the French-American kickboxer Gabriel Vaux. When a specific sequence of moves is executed properly, it results in a final kick whose force is tremendously magnified. This phenomenon cannot be explained through conventional understanding of physics. (See Addendum 8061: Incident Log for specific results) Vaux, the apparent creator of SCP-8061, had an aggressive and dynamic striking style that is exceedingly difficult to imitate, even for seasoned martial artists. Therefore, someone attempting to execute SCP-8061 who lacks exceptional dexterity, athleticism, and balance will likely suffer injury. It is recommended that someone fulfills the following criteria prior to utilizing SCP-8061 (for research purposes): The individual is aged 18-25 without any medical conditions that compromise athletic performance. The individual has trained for at least 8 years in Karate, Kung Fu, Muay Thai, Kickboxing, Savate, Taekwondo, or a similar, striking-focused martial art. The individual can execute a variety of kicking techniques swiftly without losing their balance. SCP-8061 involves the following steps executed in quick succession (the time between each step should be no longer than half a second): A subtle crouching motion. A lead-leg question mark kick while hopping forward (the kick does not have to connect with the target, and can even be used as a feint). A seamless switch from the Orthodox stance (left leg forward) to the Southpaw stance (right leg forward). A right hook followed by a fake spinning hook kick that follows the direction of the punch's momentum, ending with a tornado kick. WARNING: the tornado kick will have amplified force. The metaphysical properties of SCP-8061 are currently unknown and under investigation; similarly, the exact origin of this object is unknown. Addendum 8061: Incident Log INCIDENT LOG REGARDING IMPROPER PROCEDURES PERTAINING TO SCP-8061 Date: August 3, 2023 Incident: A Class D test subject attempted to simulate SCP-8061 during an experiment, but tripped while throwing the final kick; they suffered a broken wrist and partially tore a knee ligament from the fall. Containment Breach: No Date: August 4, 2023 Incident: A security guard lost their footing and fell down several flights of stairs while practicing SCP-8061 in a stairwell. The guard suffered a concussion and several broken bones, requiring immediate surgery. Following the incident, the Foundation proposed to enlist the help of several Persons of Interest to utilize SCP-8061. These martial arts specialists will be amnesticized following successful experimentation. Further attention has been requested for this endeavor. Containment Breach: No Date: August 9, 2023 Incident: An MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) coach, Jonathan Pierce, accidentally decapitated a training partner when he successfully used SCP-8061. He gained knowledge of the technique from a Foundation researcher who mentioned it during small talk. (First contact was initiated at a local coffee shop, outside of any Foundation premises.) The instructor and every member of the MMA gym where the incident occurred were amnesticized. Containment Breach: Yes Date: August 21, 2023 Incident: A PoI involved in an experiment "accidentally" slipped and kicked a researcher while attempting to use SCP-8061, striking them in the jaw. The researcher's lower mandible was detached from their skull, and the force of the kick caused an internal decapitation. Death was instantaneous. Containment Breach: No Date: August 25, 2023 Incident: A trained specialist—supervised by a team of Foundation researchers—successfully simulated SCP-8061 several times, where he practiced the technique against ballistic gel dummies. During one of the final experiments, the specialist kicked a dummy, which exploded upon contact. Due to worker negligence, a shard of titanium armor from a previous, unrelated test had been embedded inside the dummy. The metal shard was ejected at high velocity, striking one of the researchers in the neck. The scientist's carotid artery was severed, and they died from blood loss within seconds. The fragment then ricocheted off a nearby wall and pierced another researcher's wrist, causing a non-lethal injury. New safety protocols were established following this incident. An unnamed field agent contacted a relative via cellphone several hours later to gossip about the incident, constituting a containment breach. The agent in question was amnesticized and terminated from the Foundation indefinitely. Containment Breach: Yes ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8061" by Delta_Nine, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8061. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Name: The_U.S._Army_-_Taekwondo_champion.jpg Author: The U.S. Army License: Public domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Flickr_-_The_U.S._Army_-_Taekwondo_champion.jpg |
SCP-8065 | thaumiel | Item#: 8065 Level3 Secondary Class: thaumiel Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8065 is to be kept in the server room at Containment Area-111. No personnel under Level Three clearance are allowed to utilize the anomaly without express permission from the current Project Lead or from any personnel with Level Four clearance and above. All simulations created by SCP-8065 are to be thoroughly documented for future use. Failure to comply will result in reprimanding and potential demotion on the project, along with restrictions being placed on the offending personnel's usage of the anomaly. Description: SCP-8065 is a Foundation-made supercomputer with a custom anomalous operating system. It is capable of running only one program, which runs immediately upon startup. Within the program there is a comprehensive list of all simulations run, and a timeline of events for each individual simulation, as well as a text field. The text field is used to input the wanted simulation, which must be prefaced with a two to three letter code. A description of the event must also appear, such as "End of the World Scenario". If a scenario is not already present in the Foundation list of K Class Scenarios, inputting it into SCP-8065 will automatically add it to the database. It will also automatically generate a description from findings in the simulation. Further specifications can be added after this point. SCP-8065 was created by the Foundation throughout 2015 utilizing various thaumaturgical processes. There was confirmation of no harmful cognitohazardous or memetic agents being present in the simulations, as per protocol. It was then approved for use as a way to draft more accurate response procedures to various End of the World scenarios. It has been estimated that SCP-8065 has a 98% accuracy rate1 in regard to the events of the simulation. Accuracy of the simulation does not correlate with the likelihood of the event happening.2 Addendum 8065.1: Attached are various research logs and memos relating to SCP-8065 and its usage. Experiment 8065-1 Further Specifications: N/A Overview: The simulation begins in 2004, with the discovery of 99942 Apophis, a meteor set to impact Earth by 2029. To avoid major panic, Foundation plants in the media industry begin to disseminate the misinformation that the asteroid is due to pass safely past Earth instead, utilizing data provided by the Department of Astronomy. The simulation seems to disclude uneventful years toward the simulation's event, the next major event occurring on April 11th of 2029. Notes: Simulated documents below. Asteroid Destruction Briefing Date: 4/11/2029, two days to impact [00:10]: 225 space-faring, high power missiles from 15 countries were released to push Apophis off of a crash course with Earth. [00:50]: The first missile was calculated to have hit the meteor. There is no confirmation of it having hit. [1:21]: The final missile was noted to not have a confirmed hit, observational units on Lunar Area-32 are called to action. [1:33]: Observational units confirm that all missiles had missed their target. A comment is made that most of the missiles were still directly on course with the asteroid, akin to passing through it. [1:54]: Possibility of some kind of anomaly being present is studied by Lunar Area-32 staff by launching small scale missiles. [2:16]: First confirmed recording of the anomaly occurring. Given placeholder designation of SCP-8065. [2:39]: Designated Keter class anomaly. Containment efforts begin. [3:10]: It is confirmed that anything that touches SCP-8065 passes through it. Anomaly is theorized to work by the probability of all the atoms in one object passing through another perfectly. Database updated to show its likely probabilistic nature. [4:00]: Attempts to contain SCP-8065 seem to be met by mistakes on the part of the experiments. Notable failures include mistyped coordinates, device failure, and a containment breach. Theorized to be an effect of the probabilistic anomaly. [5:00]: Emergency convening of the O5 Council. Proposed Solution: Reclassify SCP-8065 to Apollyon, try to mitigate damage that impact will cause before 00:00 of 4/12. OVERSEER VOTE YEA: O5-1, O5-2, O5-3, O5-4, O5-5, O5-6, O5-7, O5-8, O5-9, O5-10, O5-11, O5-12, O5-13 NAY: N/A ABSTAIN: N/A Notes from O5-1: All necessary measures must be taken. Do all that must be needed for the Veil to remain and the Light and Dark to not blend together. NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION OVERSEER COUNCIL As of 4/12/24, SCP-001 has occurred. Spend the rest of your day well. — O5-1 End of 8065-1 simulated documents. Experiment 8065-1 Follow-Up: A probabilistic anomaly has been observed manipulating Apophis following this, lending credence to the device's ability. The Foundation has begun looking into the utilization of other anomalous objects to neutralize the threat. Project Lead Doctor Kahlbaum has mandated a response plan in case of the simulation occuring to every simulation to follow. Experiment 8065-6 Overview: Beginning with a failure in the security of SCP-3683 on 7/22/27, caused by a bureaucratic understaffing of MTF Gamma-1193. The instances quickly reproduce and spread from Syracuse into the wilds of New York. SCP-3683 instances quickly begin diversifying and adapting to their new environment, breeding with various other bird species to increase their own ability. They quickly take to breeding with birds of prey, allowing the new instances to properly fight against the now overworked Gamma-119. They began using their talons and sharp beaks in tandem with diving and tossing heavier rocks at high speeds to kill or heavily injure the personnel of Gamma-119. Response: A successful response plan to this would require that MTF Gamma-119 is properly maintained, funded, and staffed. The current response plan is to ensure that Gamma-119 is never to be left in a state where it is functioning with less than fifty men. They are also to be supplied with proper equipment to test the intelligence of any captured instances, to ensure they are not improving in intelligence and problem-solving ability. Notes: Attached documents below. Interviewed: Captain Frank Rodriguez of Gamma-119 Interviewer: Doctor Lilyann Sophia Foreword: Regarding the Large-Scale Containment Breach of SCP-3683 <Begin Log> Dr. Sophia: So how did it begin? Capt. Rodriguez: I-I think they- Dr. Sophia: Take your time, Captain. Capt. Rodriguez: I think they've been planning this. Dr. Sophia: Why do you think that? Capt. Rodriguez: They attacked us like they had practiced. They knew we were weak, they attacked to disarm, not even kill. Dr. Sophia: Can you be sure of this? Capt. Rodriguez: Doc, they fucked up our electronics with water, and half of them divebombed us while the rest ran off. Dr. Sophia: Could you elaborate on the electronics being ruined? Capt. Rodriguez: It's as simple as I said. They found water bottles and opened them over some of our electronics. Then they attacked us, and some got away. Dr. Sophia: (A heavy sigh can be heard.) Okay. Get back out there, they need you to handle this disaster. <End Log> Closing Statement: Various other members of Gamma-119 were interviewed, and confirmed the story put forward by Captain Rodriguez. Re-Containment Log Date: 7/25/27 Exploration Team: Gamma-119 ("Air Superiority") Subject: Re-Containment of SCP-3683 instances before they reach New York City. Team Lead: G119-Cap / Captain Frank Rodriguez Team Members: G119-1, G119-2, G119-3, G119-4 [BEGIN LOG] G119-Cap: Any sightings? (Two minutes pass silently.) G119-4: Spotted! They're on the horizon, coming right for us. G119-1: Ready your arms. G119-2: Sighted, ready to fire. (G119-4 reaches for his rifle.) G119-Cap: Four, keep your ass on the binoculars. Don't fire until my order. How many do you think? G119-4: At least two dozen. It's hard to tell, they're all clumping together, I can't really see- (The body-camera turns quickly as thuds are heard near the MTF. Rocks are seen to fall near the MTF.) G119-Cap: Fire, fire! They're droppi- (Body-camera falls into the dirt.) [END LOG] Follow-Up: Investigation on the scene found all the members of Gamma-119 dead from blunt force trauma to the head. Hundreds of rocks were found around the scene, with helmet dents consistent to the shape of nearby rocks. SCP FOUNDATION: INTERNAL MEMO 7/22/27 to 11/16/27: Initial breach, spread throughout North and South America. SCP-3683 is believed to have started reproducing with SCP-514 toward the end of the given dates. 11/17/27: First SCP-8065 instance. SCP-8065 is designated as the hybrid offspring of SCP-514 and SCP-3683. 12/2/27 to 1/27/28: Spread into Russia and propagation through Asia and Europe. Theorized narrative anomaly has perpetuated and expanded SCP-8065's spread. 1/28/28 to 2/3/28: Spread throughout the rest of the world, bar Oceania. Population numbers about two billion instances, making them one of the most populous birds in the world. 2/29/28: Today. We cannot fight back due to SCP-8065's degradation of weaponry. The instances are theorized to have intelligence equivalent to a teenage human, due to their use of makeshift and stolen weaponry. We have approximately three weeks until Oceania is overtaken, and the CK-Class Scenario is complete. All personnel are now ordered to find weaponry that does not degrade in the area of SCP-8065. We are counting on you. End of 8065-6 simulated documents. Internal Memo, SCP-8065 Simulation Team Project Lead Doctor Kahlbaum Firstly, I'm just going to say it, drinks are on me this week. You deserve it after what you've done. Secondly, I think that we have to run some simulations focusing around GoIs. That would be a good way to fish out some potential plans that some of our worst rivals might end up employing if they try to compete more directly. Experiment 8065-12 Overview: Simulation begins on the twenty-ninth of February 2028, with the first major event occurring at Site-19. At noon, when many personnel are taking their lunch break, it is attacked by a force of around two dozen Chaos Insurgency operatives. They are currently theorized to have some form of thaumaturgical or reality bending ability. The containment locks all fail in unison, unlocking every cell and causing a mass containment breach. Scenario Definition: The Chaos Insurgency's main goal becomes to ensure the complete eradication or takeover of the SCP Foundation. Response: We are to adopt a "Strike First" policy against the Chaos Insurgency. When there is suspected Insurgent action in a specific area, we will attack. Install more Scranton Reality Anchors in populous sites, as well as increased security in general. Weed out any possible Insurgency plants. Notes: Simulation documents below. List of alleged Chaos Insurgency spies has been removed to protect those who have been found innocent. RAID 8065: VIDEO LOG DATE: 2/29/28 [BEGIN LOG] [12:15]: Anomalous insurgency forces, hereby designated as SCP-8065, enter the facility. Hostages are not taken. [12:16]: Security staff arm themselves and rush toward the site of the raid. SCP-8065 instances show first signs of reality bending as they cause doors that lead to exits to completely disappear. [12:18]: Security and Insurgents exchange gunfire, before reality benders cause the Security personnel to undergo cardiac arrest. [12:25]: Mass containment breach in every sector, causing at least three dozen personnels' termination. [12:34]: The breached anomalies gather around SCP-8065. They do not attempt to harm the instances of SCP-8065. [12:40]: Some researchers, assumed to be Chaos Insurgency plants or otherwise influenced by SCP-8065, extract with the insurgents. The various anomalies are taken by the Insurgent forces. [1:00]: Remaining staff contact Site-01 to report the raid. SCP-8065 is first documented. [END LOG] O5 COUNTERMEASURES O5-1: Ensure that reality anchors are present in every high-importance site. O5-2: Deny the Insurgents any valuable anomalies. O5-3: Release a memetic cognitohazard on the Insurgent invaders. O5-4: Unable to give a proposal due to extraneous circumstances. O5-5: Elimination of suspected Insurgent bases with any needed force. O5-6: Use of Global Occult Coalition to eliminate the threat without loss of Foundation personnel. O5-7: Use of thermonuclear missiles to eradicate the Insurgency, use of SCP-2000 and mass amnestic campaign if required. O5-8: Use of thaumaturgical artifacts and powers to hunt down the Insurgent reality benders. O5-9: Unable to give a proposal due to briefing being deemed too time inefficient. O5-10: Draw out the reality benders, use snipers to eliminate them, and then raid known Insurgent bases. O5-11: Unable to give a proposal due to extraneous circumstances. O5-12: Complete lockdown of Foundation sites until the threat is successfully eliminated. Accepted Proposals: O5-2, O5-5, O5-6, O5-12. Site-01 Raid: Delta Command Report At 00:23 hours yesterday, we launched a large-scale raid on the Foundation's main site. The Red Right Hand barely put up a fight, like they couldn't process what we were doing. We managed to make our way inside and eliminate eleven out of thirteen members of the O5 Council. O5-1 was taken in for questioning, and we were unable to locate any trace of O5-8. Hunts are ongoing using powerful mnestic technology taken from our fallen enemy. Now that we have successfully annihilated the Foundation, the hypocrites that caused us to form, we can finally go about our goals without threat of constant destruction. We will rule the world from the dark, so that those in the light may serve us. Standby for further orders. Vive la révolution. NOTICE FROM THE O5 COUNCIL Site-01 has been invaded. Detonate On-Site Thermonuclear Missiles in all Sites but 19, 91, and 333. Evacuate and surrender to the Insurgent forces to mitigate loss of personnel life. Any non-compliant sites will be forcibly evacuated. — O5-1 End of 8065-12 simulated documents. Internal Memo, SCP-8065 Simulation Team Project Lead Doctor Kahlbaum This is a powerful tool that we have with us, my friends. We have a list of Chaos Insurgency spies, calculated by the computer as the most likely to be one in the case of a CIK-Class Scenario. The only problem? Before this, CIK-Class scenarios did not exist, and were not accounted for. I recommend that we give this list to the Overseer Council, and suggest they monitor those personnel closely. I believe, for the safety of the Foundation, we should be ready to remove even our best personnel if they are suspicious within reason and are on this list. I know some scenarios we have tested are of an intensely low probability of actually occurring, but I assure you that these experiments are important for the continued future of the Foundation. If we do not prepare for every possible scenario, then what are we as the Foundation? Failing to Protect ourselves from any possible lapse in Containment, which we must thusly Secure. Experiment 8065-20 Overview: Through a random anomalous event on 10/09/24, 100% of the Foundation's database is erased in a moment. Knowledge of any SCP number, description, and special containment procedures seem to be completely erased in any Foundation personnel. Scenario Definition: The SCP Foundation database is completely lost, and unable to be restored without recreating the files from scratch, or at all. Response: It is suggested that the possibility of creating a memetically distributed version of the entire database be considered, in case of this scenario occurring. Notes: Probability of Occurrence is less than 0.1%. The database has both anomalous and non-anomalous backups. Random anomalous events are also difficult to stop or predict before occurrence. Access --i-NET Email? One (1) new message! Re: The Loss Of An Anomalous Database To: Doctor Kahlbaum From: Doctor Sophia Subject: The Loss Of An Anomalous Database Hello Doctor, I am writing this concerning a period of intense confusion that has set onto the research team. Anything that would allow us to continue the work we used to perform on the anomalous computer before us has been removed from our minds. I hypothesize that the loss of memory is merely a situational anomaly that was caused because of our prior project. I theorize such, as I have lost all memory of the project and what we were studying. I ask that we report this to a higher authority within the Foundation so we can attempt to find a solution. Database or Memory of Database Recovery: Utilizing Anomalies Anomaly Utilized Results Exclusionary Site Information automatically censored and removed from the mind of Researchers leaving the Site. Self-Replicating Image allegedly holding the Database D-Class personnel was infected with the anomaly. The anomaly seems to have faded away after three minutes of trying to convey information through words that do not exist or could not be understood by Foundation Staff. Further testing has been canceled by combined orders of the O5 Council and Ethics Committee. Incident Log 154 Date: 10/11/2024 Exploration Team: Epsilon-11 ("Nine-Tailed Fox") Subject: Capturing anomalies that have escaped from Foundation custody. Team Lead: E11-Cap Team Members: E11-1 through E11-9 [BEGIN LOG] (E11-Cap looks into the woods, flashlight barely making a dent into the darkness.) (E11-1 and E11-2 walk further into the darkness, one flashlight remaining pointed to the squad.) E11-4: Do you think we're clear? E11-Cap: Doubt it, these things love surprises. (The flashlight goes dark, followed by the screams of E11-2 and the sound of cracking.) E11-1: HELP! HELP! (E11-1's screams continue, as the squad rushes into the forest.) (They get close enough to shine a light on the threat, and they shine their lights on the viscous corpse of E11-2 slowly beginning to engulf E11-1. All the teeth on the outside seem to have morphed into canines.) E11-7: What the fuck- E11-Cap: Fire! Fucking fire, you idiots! (The bullets hit the anomaly, bouncing off of the nigh-liquid mass. It squelches as it bites deep into the leg of E11-1. The operative begins to melt, shifting into another instance of the thing E11-2 has become. E11-1 seems to try and scream, while no noise escapes.) E11-Cap: GO! Run! Evacuate, we can call in reinforcements, just make sure we know that they're here- (The trees shift, howling in crooked laughter. The viscous anomalies begin pursuing the other members of Epsilon-11, gaining insectoid legs and increasing in speed. One lunges at the captain, covering the camera in its flesh.) [END LOG] Follow-Up: GOC forces report a single anomaly, a mass of flesh trying to disguise itself among the forest floor. It was dispatched via incineration. Database Loss Briefing 10/09/24: Complete Database Loss. Memories of methods used to restrain anomalies, as well as the entire appearance or existence of some being removed from Foundation memory. 10/10/24: Ways to reinstate the Database are attempted with anomalous methods. All have failed. 10/11/24: Large scale anomaly breach, mass break of the veil. 10/12/24: Global Occult Coalition, Chaos Insurgency, and various other militarized Group of Interest forces engage escaped anomalies. The Foundation begins to try and reorganize. All methods have failed to allow us to do so. Proposed Solution: Dissolve the Foundation and reorganize our forces in the GOC. We hold no memory of how to complete our objective and cannot rebuild it with actively forgetting everything we know. OVERSEER VOTE YEA: O5-1, O5-2, O5-3, O5-4, O5-5, O5-6, O5-7, O5-8, O5-9, O5-10, O5-11, O5-12, O5-13 NAY: N/A ABSTAIN: N/A End of 8065-20 simulated files. NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION OVERSEER COUNCIL As of 5/21/16, Doctor Kahlbaum is no longer the Project Lead on SCP-8065. It took more than two months for the council to come to this decision. Doctor Kahlbaum was a good employee, but his name was found on the list of Insurgency agents from Simulation 8065-12. Paired with the Doctor's strange fascination with running simulations about various groups of interest, we were led to believe he may be a deep plant. The Doctor will be heavily amnesticized and given a cover story of working at an Antarctic Research Base. He will have apparently suffered an injury causing in rapid onset amnesia. The next Project Lead will be declared within a week. Have a good day. — O5-2 Footnotes 1. 2% inaccuracy is in regards to inaction of SCP Foundation or other Groups of Interest when not noted in simulation. 2. See Addendum 8065.1 for further information. 3. The main MTF force containing SCP-3683. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8065" by DoctorLilithSophia, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8065. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. |
SCP-8066 | esoteric-class | Are you scared, SCP-2006? THUMBNAIL close Info X SCP-8066 - Phobophobia: The Only Thing to Fear » More by this Author « ⚠️ Content Warning: Unreality, gaslighting, isolation, home invasion, needles, stalking, violence, body horror, gore, and cannibalism. ⚠️ content warning The ListPages module does not work recursively. SCP-2006 SCP Anthology 2024 » SCP-2006 SCP-2006 in containment. Item №: SCP-2006 Special Containment Procedures: In interest of maintaining its veracity, this file may only be edited by individuals with Level 5/8066 Clearance. SCP-2006 is to be held in a standard humanoid containment cell. To prevent further psychological decline, it may only interact with Level 5/8066 personnel and is to be given access to entertainment media. Barring a recently-developed antipathy for the horror genre, SCP-2006 has not expressed any particular media preferences. Description (ARCHIVED): SCP-2006 is an anomalous spherical entity with the capability to alter its body's shape, size, and composition with no known limits. Its stated goal is to evoke fear and dread in as many humans as possible, though its conception of fear has been heavily influenced by classic horror and science fiction films, significantly limiting the scope of its desires. Maintaining this conception has been deemed crucial for its continued containment. Description: SCP-2006 is a humanoid entity with the appearance of a human woman in her mid-to-late 30s. Following Incident 8066.2, it does not appear to possess any anomalous attributes. INCIDENT 8066.2 On September 3rd, 2024 at 2:01 AM, several discrete instances of anomalous phenomena simultaneously took place across Site-118. Of such phenomena, the following occurred within SCP-2006's containment cell: Location: Gamma Wing - Containment Cell 506 [02:00] SCP-2006 sits in its chair, watching the 1959 horror film The Tingler for the sixth time in a row while assuming the form of "the Gill-man" from 1954's Creature from the Black Lagoon. It mumbles softly to itself. [02:01] SCP-2006's cell shakes slightly and its lights briefly dim. A distant rumbling sound is faintly audible. SCP-2006 looks up and the camera feed cuts out. [02:03], FRAME 2 [02:03] Site-118's security system receives two frames of video in immediate succession. FRAME 1: SCP-2006's cell is dark, lit only by the television screen set to static. The chair has been shattered. A humanoid figure with indistinct features is huddled in the far corner of the room. A second figure is hanging upside down from the ceiling over the screen. FRAME 2: SCP-2006's cell is even darker; the frame is solid black, save for the section featured in the attached image. [02:05] The cell's camera feed is reestablished. SCP-2006, now in human form and sitting in a still-intact chair, continues to watch the film as though nothing has happened. [02:21] The Tingler concludes. SCP-2006 becomes newly aware of its altered form. It appears confused and upset by this development, being seemingly unable to change its shape. [02:29] SCP-2006 starts to weep. Interviewed: SCP-2006 Interviewer: Dr. Randall Owings [SCP-2006 is slumped in its chair, staring at nothing. Its television is paused midway through the 1947 film Scared to Death. When Dr. Owings enters the cell, it jerks out of its stupor.] SCP-2006: Miss Jo, you're finally b— You're not Miss Jo. Dr. Owings: My name is Dr. Owings. I'll be performing your interviews for the time being while Researcher Lowe is indisposed. SCP-2006: Oh! You're Mister Randy! Miss Jo told me about you. Dr. Owings: Please, call me Dr. Owings. SCP-2006: Okay. [Pause.] Is Miss Jo sick? I've never been left alone this long before. Dr. Owings: Researcher Lowe is fine. She's… everyone's fine. [SCP-2006 nods slowly.] SCP-2006: I think I might be sick. Dr. Owings: Can you tell me why? SCP-2006: I haven't been able to change the way I look for days. I've been stuck looking like some lady — and not a monster lady, like a Dracula's daughter or a bride of Frankenstein or anything! It's awful. Dr. Owings: Is that why you haven't done anything to frighten me? I'll admit I've been on tenterhooks ever since I walked in. I was sure you were about to do something truly blood-curdling, like, ah… SCP-2006: Like sneaking up behind you and shouting "boo"? [Dr. Owings feigns a frightened shiver.] Dr. Owings: Yes, like that. I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it. [SCP-2006 shrugs.] SCP-2006: My heart's just not in it anymore, I guess. Dr. Owings: Have you noticed anything else while you've been sick? Any strange sensations? SCP-2006: Um. When you feel shivery and hot and cold and like you want to hide under the bed, is that a sensation? Dr. Owings: That sounds like fear. Are you scared, SCP-2006? SCP-2006: I… Yes. I think so. Dr. Owings: Do you know why? [Silence.] SCP-2006: I'm scared of whatever did this to me. And I'm scared it's just getting started. Refer to attached documentation for further information regarding associated anomalous phenomena. {$previous-title} SCP Anthology 2024 Scopophobia: The Employee of the Month More From This Author More From This Author MontagueETC's Works SCPs SCP-6462 • SCP-7408 • SCP-6607 • SCP-7376 • SCP-1908 • SCP-8200 • SCP-6751 • SCP-7701 • SCP-744 • SCP-8408 • SCP-⌘ • SCP-7009 • SCP-6454 • SCP-7354 • Tales/GoI Formats Did It Hurt When You Fell From Heaven? • A Betamax Suicide Note • Six Codas • DR. KONDRAKI CUT UP WHILE THINKING • Omnigenesis and the Law of Blades • Who Made You? • Other etcetera, etcetera • MontagueETC's SCiPTEMBER 2022 Art • Art Exchange 2023 | SCP-6759 • ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8066" by MontagueETC, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8066. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: 2006.png Author: MontagueETC License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Derivative of: Name: Inside World Author: fiction of reality License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: reach.png Author: MontagueETC License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Derivative of: Name: Light in the Fog of the Night Author: Maxwell GS License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: watcher.png Author: MontagueETC License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Derivative of: Name: The Dark Experiment XV - “I’ve Been Waiting for You” Author: Rob Olivera License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: beforeandafter.png Author: MontagueETC License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Derivative of: Name: Mary Savin12 Author: Ark. Agricultural Experiment Station License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Name: Anneli Pauli Author: NordForsk License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: spectre.png Author: MontagueETC License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Derivative of: Name: She is there Author: Alexandre Dulaunoy License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: shadow.png Author: MontagueETC License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Derivative of: Name: Creepy Author: Richard North License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: doomsday.png Author: MontagueETC License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Derivative of: Name: Door Open Author: Jodi Womack License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: comeandsee.png Author: MontagueETC License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Derivative of: Name: portrait-self-hand-face.jpg Author: r. nial bradshaw License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr |
SCP-8066 | uncontained | Are you scared, SCP-2006? THUMBNAIL close Info X SCP-8066 - Phobophobia: The Only Thing to Fear » More by this Author « ⚠️ Content Warning: Unreality, gaslighting, isolation, home invasion, needles, stalking, violence, body horror, gore, and cannibalism. ⚠️ content warning The ListPages module does not work recursively. SCP-2006 SCP Anthology 2024 » SCP-2006 SCP-2006 in containment. Item №: SCP-2006 Special Containment Procedures: In interest of maintaining its veracity, this file may only be edited by individuals with Level 5/8066 Clearance. SCP-2006 is to be held in a standard humanoid containment cell. To prevent further psychological decline, it may only interact with Level 5/8066 personnel and is to be given access to entertainment media. Barring a recently-developed antipathy for the horror genre, SCP-2006 has not expressed any particular media preferences. Description (ARCHIVED): SCP-2006 is an anomalous spherical entity with the capability to alter its body's shape, size, and composition with no known limits. Its stated goal is to evoke fear and dread in as many humans as possible, though its conception of fear has been heavily influenced by classic horror and science fiction films, significantly limiting the scope of its desires. Maintaining this conception has been deemed crucial for its continued containment. Description: SCP-2006 is a humanoid entity with the appearance of a human woman in her mid-to-late 30s. Following Incident 8066.2, it does not appear to possess any anomalous attributes. INCIDENT 8066.2 On September 3rd, 2024 at 2:01 AM, several discrete instances of anomalous phenomena simultaneously took place across Site-118. Of such phenomena, the following occurred within SCP-2006's containment cell: Location: Gamma Wing - Containment Cell 506 [02:00] SCP-2006 sits in its chair, watching the 1959 horror film The Tingler for the sixth time in a row while assuming the form of "the Gill-man" from 1954's Creature from the Black Lagoon. It mumbles softly to itself. [02:01] SCP-2006's cell shakes slightly and its lights briefly dim. A distant rumbling sound is faintly audible. SCP-2006 looks up and the camera feed cuts out. [02:03], FRAME 2 [02:03] Site-118's security system receives two frames of video in immediate succession. FRAME 1: SCP-2006's cell is dark, lit only by the television screen set to static. The chair has been shattered. A humanoid figure with indistinct features is huddled in the far corner of the room. A second figure is hanging upside down from the ceiling over the screen. FRAME 2: SCP-2006's cell is even darker; the frame is solid black, save for the section featured in the attached image. [02:05] The cell's camera feed is reestablished. SCP-2006, now in human form and sitting in a still-intact chair, continues to watch the film as though nothing has happened. [02:21] The Tingler concludes. SCP-2006 becomes newly aware of its altered form. It appears confused and upset by this development, being seemingly unable to change its shape. [02:29] SCP-2006 starts to weep. Interviewed: SCP-2006 Interviewer: Dr. Randall Owings [SCP-2006 is slumped in its chair, staring at nothing. Its television is paused midway through the 1947 film Scared to Death. When Dr. Owings enters the cell, it jerks out of its stupor.] SCP-2006: Miss Jo, you're finally b— You're not Miss Jo. Dr. Owings: My name is Dr. Owings. I'll be performing your interviews for the time being while Researcher Lowe is indisposed. SCP-2006: Oh! You're Mister Randy! Miss Jo told me about you. Dr. Owings: Please, call me Dr. Owings. SCP-2006: Okay. [Pause.] Is Miss Jo sick? I've never been left alone this long before. Dr. Owings: Researcher Lowe is fine. She's… everyone's fine. [SCP-2006 nods slowly.] SCP-2006: I think I might be sick. Dr. Owings: Can you tell me why? SCP-2006: I haven't been able to change the way I look for days. I've been stuck looking like some lady — and not a monster lady, like a Dracula's daughter or a bride of Frankenstein or anything! It's awful. Dr. Owings: Is that why you haven't done anything to frighten me? I'll admit I've been on tenterhooks ever since I walked in. I was sure you were about to do something truly blood-curdling, like, ah… SCP-2006: Like sneaking up behind you and shouting "boo"? [Dr. Owings feigns a frightened shiver.] Dr. Owings: Yes, like that. I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it. [SCP-2006 shrugs.] SCP-2006: My heart's just not in it anymore, I guess. Dr. Owings: Have you noticed anything else while you've been sick? Any strange sensations? SCP-2006: Um. When you feel shivery and hot and cold and like you want to hide under the bed, is that a sensation? Dr. Owings: That sounds like fear. Are you scared, SCP-2006? SCP-2006: I… Yes. I think so. Dr. Owings: Do you know why? [Silence.] SCP-2006: I'm scared of whatever did this to me. And I'm scared it's just getting started. Refer to attached documentation for further information regarding associated anomalous phenomena. {$previous-title} SCP Anthology 2024 Scopophobia: The Employee of the Month More From This Author More From This Author MontagueETC's Works SCPs SCP-6462 • SCP-7408 • SCP-6607 • SCP-7376 • SCP-1908 • SCP-8200 • SCP-6751 • SCP-7701 • SCP-744 • SCP-8408 • SCP-⌘ • SCP-7009 • SCP-6454 • SCP-7354 • Tales/GoI Formats Did It Hurt When You Fell From Heaven? • A Betamax Suicide Note • Six Codas • DR. KONDRAKI CUT UP WHILE THINKING • Omnigenesis and the Law of Blades • Who Made You? • Other etcetera, etcetera • MontagueETC's SCiPTEMBER 2022 Art • Art Exchange 2023 | SCP-6759 • ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8066" by MontagueETC, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8066. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: 2006.png Author: MontagueETC License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Derivative of: Name: Inside World Author: fiction of reality License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: reach.png Author: MontagueETC License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Derivative of: Name: Light in the Fog of the Night Author: Maxwell GS License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: watcher.png Author: MontagueETC License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Derivative of: Name: The Dark Experiment XV - “I’ve Been Waiting for You” Author: Rob Olivera License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: beforeandafter.png Author: MontagueETC License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Derivative of: Name: Mary Savin12 Author: Ark. Agricultural Experiment Station License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Name: Anneli Pauli Author: NordForsk License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: spectre.png Author: MontagueETC License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Derivative of: Name: She is there Author: Alexandre Dulaunoy License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: shadow.png Author: MontagueETC License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Derivative of: Name: Creepy Author: Richard North License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: doomsday.png Author: MontagueETC License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Derivative of: Name: Door Open Author: Jodi Womack License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: comeandsee.png Author: MontagueETC License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Derivative of: Name: portrait-self-hand-face.jpg Author: r. nial bradshaw License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr |
SCP-8067 | keter | SCP-8067-B (artistic depiction courtesy of SCP-8067-A-3) Item#: 8067 Level4 Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: keneq Risk Class: warning link to memo Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8067-A are kept in standard humanoid containment cells at Site-59. While SCP-8067-A pose no threat during waking hours, they are only to sleep in custom-built beds with reinforced physical restraints and EKG monitoring. Their dreams are to be recorded upon awakening. Additionally, the cells of SCP-8067-A are to be fitted with the following countermeasures as per Protocol 58-Geryon: No fewer than six cardboard circles on the floor, .5m in diameter, with "HORSE TRAP" written legibly on the upward-facing side. 10 grams of salt, arranged in a protective circle. An empty, overturned salt box next to the salt circle. Said box is to be relabeled "POWDERED POTASSIUM HORSEXPLODINATE - WARNING! MAKES HORSES EXPLODE ON CONTACT!" A 30 cm PVC figure of Godzilla, facing the door, with a plastic fork and knife glued to its hands. It is to wear a Foundation-issued Level 1 Security Clearance ID tag reading "JEREMY, DEVOURER OF HORSES." (Note: This is the sixteenth revision of Protocol 58-Geryon. While it has reduced the occurrence of SCP-8067 by 45%, SCP-8067-B has been known to adapt through what has been stated to be "regular immunizations" and "basic problem-solving skills — not that you'd know about that, shit lips!", and revisions to 58-Geryon are ongoing.) Foundation plants in civilian law enforcement agencies worldwide are to monitor for any criminal activity that may be attributed to SCP-8067-A. Once the suspect of said activities is convicted, they are to be brought to Site-59 for questioning and potential containment. Direct containment of SCP-8067-B is not possible at this time. As public knowledge of SCP-8067-B would potentially lead to the containment of subconscious false-positives and bad actors as SCP-8067-A, mentions of SCP-8067-B are to be excised whenever possible by Foundation webcrawlers and other obfuscation measures. Description: SCP-8067 is a phenomenon estimated to affect 0.0148% of the combined human population of Canada, the United States of America, and Uzbekistan1. The trigger for SCP-8067 is not currently understood, but subjects with a history of somnambulation2 are more likely to be affected. Once an affected subject (heretofore SCP-8067-A) enters slow-wave NREM sleep, they enter a particularly violent and agitated state of somnambulance. The subject is capable of performing feats of strength that would be impossible while unaffected, including3, but not limited to: Lifting up to ten times their own body weight. Biting through bricks and concrete. Running at speeds of up to 120 km/h. The ability to digest otherwise inedible objects such as plastic, glass, feces, steel, and sand. This affected state lasts for exactly 23 minutes and 30 seconds. It is impossible to wake the subject during this period. Upon awakening, the subject will have no knowledge of their affected actions in the waking world unless notified. Site-59 currently contains 10 instances of SCP-8067-A. The acquisition of more instances has proven difficult due to SCP-8067's low survival rate outside of containment. The most common cause of death is from the subject running into traffic. SCP-8067-B refers to the subject of the dream that induces SCP-8067. While individual descriptions of SCP-8067-B vary, all accounts claim it to be a pantomime horse of indeterminate gender. SCP-8067-B is capable of inducing a human subject into a murderous rage with its insults, despite the fact that the insults would rarely elicit such a response in a conscious subject — i.e. "They'll never let you in the breads & cereals group!"4, "You call THAT an irrigation method?!"5, or "What's wrong, sonny, not MAN enough to alphabetize your organs?!"6 Audio Log A-1-1 Subject: SCP-8067-A-1, formerly D-81747, Male, 48 years old Date of Recording: 4/10/2024 Incident Date: 2/20/2009 Incident Location: Fort Worth, TX Notes: Subject was a death row inmate convicted of 15 homicides that were a direct result of entering SCP-8067 for the first time. He deferred the death penalty by voluntarily joining the Foundation as a D-class staff member. <Begin Log> I mean, I'll tell ya, but it's not exactly something I'd choose to remember if I could, know what I'm saying? So gimme a minute. … Thanks. It was February 20th. Four in the morning. I just got home from a triple shift at the warehouse. Up until you told me it was "anomalous" or whatever, I coulda sworn this was the result of all the Red Bulls I had just to stay awake. I ended up sleeping on the floor. (Which sounds bad, but the carpet was soft as hell, and if you live alone, you can sleep wherever the hell you want.) Didn't take long to start dreaming. And I don't usually remember my dreams in the first place, so I thought I'd fallen off the wagon with my rehab or summat. But this was vivid as hell. I could tell you every detail. … Oh, right, I'm here to do that anyway. I was back in my bedroom in Tuscon, the one I had when I was a kid in the 80's. The bed was too small. My legs dangled onto the floor. My NES was in the corner by the TV, but it was pink for some reason. It was weirdly cold outside. I think I saw some snow. I hear this electronic doorbell. Not for the front door, but for my room. And it's this tinny, shrill song, all like, I dunno, "dadaloot-doot-doot dadaloot-doot-doot dadaloot-doot-doodaloo DAAHHH-daahhh"7 — like, that, but if it were played on a broken graphing calculator and run through a reverb pedal. And every time the doorbell was hit, it wouldn't stop the last song, it'd just play another one over it. And some jackass in the hallway was out there, hammering the doorbell over and over. After about twenty seconds, I couldn't ignore the visitor any longer. Especially when I heard their voice: "It's the gotdamn Publisher's Clearing House, Charlie Brown!" The voice itself was… weird. Something unbelievably annoying with Southern twang to it, but neither male nor female. Like if a weasel were in a country band. I opened the door just to get the doorbells to stop. They didn't. It kept pounding the doorbell. And by "it", I mean this… okay, I was in this school play once as a kid, and these two guys had to wear a silly pony costume where one guy was in the front, the other was in the back, and… you know what I'm talking about? It was that kinda thing. A two-person horse costume was staring back at me. Each foot had a different kinda shoe. People shoes, not horse shoes. One of 'em was a cowboy boot. And it had these big ugly teeth and a blank walleyed stare, like, whoever made this wasn't about to go for "majestic stallion." It looks at me dead in the eyes. And… This stupid horse says, "Sup, fucko! I just sold your eyelashes to the Russian mob, and I will NEVER be held accountable for this!" I'd never been so angry in my life. …I still am. Why?! I don't even care about my fucking eyelashes! …sorry. Point being, for some reason I still don't understand, this made see red. I wanted to tear this horse's heart out in front of its family. I wanted to use its body to invent a new kind of war crime exclusive to horses. And the horse knew this. It just clippity-clopped away, laughing all Daffy Duck and shit. I chased this stupid fucking pony on foot for what felt like hours. I was tunnel-visioned. There was nothing but the me, the horse, and the occasional blurry obstacle between us that I had to tear apart with my bear hands. By the time I caught up with it, I was in a small corrugated metal shack that I'm pretty sure was labeled "EYELASH DEPOT." There were a bunch of gigantic mason jars filled with eyelashes in bulk. Each one had some Cyrillic written on them with a Sharpie. I couldn't find the pony, but I figured I could at least fuck it with its supply chain. Maybe the Russians would be all like "where are all those eyelashes" and break its legs. …and maybe they did, who knows? So started picking up these jars and tossing them at the wall. Jar One — exploded. Lit on fire. Jar Two — turned into mice, and each mouse shat itself to death. I picked up Jar Three — — and I woke up in a McDonald's in the next town over. There was a hole in the wall behind me that was just my size. A fry cook's severed head was in my hands. I was covered in blood and piss and vomit. I could hear police sirens outside. First thing I did was drop the head and felt my eyes. (Sigh.) …still had all my eyelashes, thank God. <End Log> List of SCP-8067-A at Site 59: Number Details Initial Manifestation Notes SCP-8067-A-1 Male, 48 See above. Frequency of manifestation has tripled during containment. SCP-8067-A-2 Male, 63 Prior to manifestation, subject was a militant libertarian who kept an illegal stockpile of assault weapons. SCP-8067 resulted in a shooting rampage localized entirely within his house, where he lived alone. 5,398 rounds were fired. Subject's friends started a social media campaign accusing the US government of sending SCP-8067-B. Foundation suppression efforts have only been partially successful. SCP-8067-A-3 Female, 32 Subject caused a 28-car pileup after running onto I-55 in pursuit of SCP-8067-B. "I had no choice. He stole the Popemobile." SCP-8067-A-4 Male, 12 Subject lived on a farm and attempted to devour several of his family's cows during SCP-8067. Subject was five years old at the time; futher incidents went unreported due to his family trying to hide them from the authorities. The initial version of Protocol 58-Geryon was made with the subject's help using his personal methods for warding off SCP-8067-B. SCP-8067-A-5 Female, 24 Subject was critically injured during a fall from her five-story window during SCP-8067. Used what little strength she had left to bite open the carotid arteries of two paramedics. Subject is comatose — as such, she requires constant restraint. SCP-8067-A-6 Male, 31 Subject spent the latter half of his rampage attempting to sodomize his own 2015 Dodge Charger. "I realize I have no way of proving this, but I promise that I didn't do anything the horse's wife didn't explicitly ask me to." SCP-8067-A-7 Female, 40 Subject drove a semi for a logistics company. She fell asleep in a driver's seat at her rest area in Wisconsin. Attempted to drive her truck after SCP-8067-B. The rest area was destroyed. One of two subjects who claims to have successfully killed SCP-8067-B in their dream. This did not stop SCP-8067-B from returning to her dreams. SCP-8067-A-8 Male, 30 Subject was an active-duty naval seaman on the USS ███████. Manned one of the ship's artillery batteries during manifestation and fired at a passing Chinese cargo ship. An international incident was avoided only through the Foundation's intervention. "Look, dreaming or not, I know what I was shooting at. That horse is absolutely a terrorist." SCP-8067-A-9 Male, 19 Subject demolished his entire apartment complex during his rampage. On his first night in containment, subject reportedly insulted SCP-8067-B so viciously during SCP-8067 that it wept until it exploded. Subject has not entered SCP-8067 since, but will remain under observation until another incident can be ruled out empirically. SCP-8067-A-10 Male, 38 Subject entered SCP-8067 while sleeping through a transatlantic flight. The plane was able to make an emergency landing in Newark through the efforts of the ten survivors of the rampage — including the subject himself, who had some experience with aviation. Subject's mental state has significantly deteriorated since containment began, entering SCP-8067 nightly. See below. Interview Log - Re: Escalation Interviewer: Dr. Josephine Erlanger, Site-59 Psychiatric Director Interviewed: SCP-8067-A-10 Date: 8/30/2024 <Begin Log> (SCP-8067-A-10 sits at the interview table, trying not to doze off. Dr. Erlanger enters.) Erlanger: Good morning, A-10. I heard you've been having some trouble sleeping. A-10: Mm. Erlanger: We'd be glad to help you, but you'll need to give us some more details. (A-10 sighs, grinning sardonically.) A-10: Not so much "trouble sleeping." More like "sleeping is trouble." Erlanger: Care to elaborate? A-10: Been tryin' to go cold turkey. Seein' how long I can go without sleep. Just doing the bare minimum. Erlanger: You know that's not healthy. A-10: I suppose not. But the way I see it, I got two options. One: keep myself awake until I keel over. Option two: conk out right on schedule. Spend the next thirty minutes listening to that piece a' shit horse and all his fuckin' opinions. Not bein' able to go after him. So I'm cooked either way. All of this could be God's will for all I know. A little preview of hell before I get there for real. And considering what I did to all those passengers, it's just what I deserve. Erlanger: Listen… none of what happened on that plane was your fault. I wish I could find a way to make you understand that. And, well, I'm an agnostic, but if there is a God, I'm sure He would take all factors into account before pronouncing judgment — i.e. your intent, your track record, whether or not you were conscious, magical insult ponies, et cetera. A-10: Hmm. Erlanger: Moving on — out of all those who have been affected by said pantomime horse, you've entered the most SCP-8067 states during containment. Thursday's EKG indicates it happened eight times in one night. It's a small wonder you haven't had a stroke. Any idea why it might be targeting you in particular? [No response.] A-10? [He snores.] I realize you're sleep-deprived, but it would be in your best interests to stay awake during this session, so — [He stands up, mumbling. His eyes are glazed over. He flails about uncontrollably] A-10: …finally got you, Hoss… out of my restraints, now… ya quadrupedal hoof-havin' sack a' shit… Erlanger: Oh goddamnit — security! [She escapes, leaving the door open.] A-10: …no! SHADDAP! Nobody knows more fun facts about lemons8 than I do… you NEVER went to lemon school… you're a LIAR… [A-10 bites off one of the table's legs at the base, swallowing the leg whole.] [He swallows.] …getcher ass back here… don't you close the motherfuckin' door on me… open up… [He slams the open door shut, then breaks it down.] <End Log> Footnotes 1. (There have been a total of two confirmed cases in Uzbekistan: two tourists, one American and one Canadian.) 2. (Better known as sleepwalking.) 3. (Figures lifted from existing anecdotes.) 4. (See Audio Log A-7-1) 5. (See Audio Log A-4-2) 6. (See Audio Log A-2-7) 7. (A leitmotif from Light Cavalry Overture by Franz von Suppé.) 8. (Prior to this incident, A-10 has not indicated anything more than a surface-level understanding of lemons. |
SCP-8069 | euclid | oink oink SCP-8069 — Pig Clock ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} SCP-8069. Item #: SCP-8069 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8069 is hung on a wall within a standard containment chamber in Site-218. Experimentation with the anomaly is to be overseen by the Department of Applied Horology. Foundation agents embedded in local real estate markets are to ensure no livestock farms attempt to open within an eighty-mile vicinity of the area. Description: SCP-8069 refers to a Shortt–Synchronome clock, a highly-accurate clock produced in limited amounts between 1922-1956. The clock is entirely indestructible, unable to be damaged by any source known to the Foundation. SCP-8069 has displayed autonomous movement, tracking time corresponding to Central Daylight Time (CDT). Instead of an hourly chime, SCP-8069 is known to produce what resembles oinking noises. The primary anomalous property of SCP-8069 is that it showcases significant sway over the sleeping patterns of pigs (Sus domesticus) across an eighty-mile radius. At seemingly-random monthly intervals, SCP-8069 will shift from its standard autonomous movement, quickly moving its hands in a variety of positions. Invariably, this will cause all pigs within the eighty-mile radius to immediately enter a state of REM sleep, regardless of their previous activity. SCP-8069 will continue its movements until the pigs simultaneously wake up, causing it to revert to its standard movement. SCP-8069 was previously owned by PoI-011, Richard Chappell, recognized leader of GoI-001 (“The Chicago Spirit”), with it having been hung in his office. Whether PoI-011 was the source of SCP-8069’s anomalous properties remains unclear. Addendum 8069.1: Interview Log The following is an interview held with an individual designated as PoI-8069, a former associate of PoI-011’s and member of GoI-001. «Begin Log» Dr. Francis Own enters the interrogation room and sits down at the table across from PoI-8069, who has been bound in restraints. SCP-8069 has been temporarily placed on the side wall of the room. Dr. Own: Greetings, my name is Dr. Own. I just have a few questions for you, today. PoI-8069: I'm no squealer. Dr. Own: If you're cooperative, we might be able to get you out of here. PoI-8069 puts his fingers on his chin in consideration. PoI-8069: Will I get any dough? Dr. Own sighs. Dr. Own: I can see what I can do. Trust me, I'm sure what I'm here about today won't be too invasive. PoI-8069: Alright, fine. You can ask away. Dr. Own: Perfect. So, you see this clock over here? Dr. Own gestures towards SCP-8069. Dr. Own: This used to be owned by Richard Chappell. Any idea what he used it for? PoI-8069: Oh, this is Big Dick's clock? I thought I recognized it from somewhere! Yeah, he used this thing to make sure the pigs were asleep on certain nights. I was never quite sure how it worked, myself. Dr. Own: Why did he need to keep pigs asleep? We have no record of him involving himself with, well, farm animals of any kind. PoI-8069 raises his eyebrow, staring at Dr. Own in confusion. PoI-8069: Not that kind of pigs. Dr. Own stays silent for a moment. Dr. Own: Do you mean, like… cops? PoI-8069: What? Why the hell would I mean cops? Dr. Own: What else could you mean? «End Log» Several hours following the conclusion of the interview, Foundation investigators combed through PoI-011's journal and determined he owned several guinea pigs (Cavia porcellus). ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8069" by MisterFrown, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8069. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Name: File:Zegar-Shortta.JPG Author: Bori64 License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Zegar-Shortta.JPG |
SCP-8070 | keter | Stereoisomerism: noun. A type of isomerism in which different compounds share the same atom composition but differ in their spatial arrangements. close Info X SCP-8070: Stereoisomerism Author: Dr Talcite ⚠️ Content warning: This article contains descriptions of body excrement and death, which may be gross and disturbing to some. ⚠️ content warning A landfill site next to an SCP-8070 incident. Item #: SCP-8070 Level 3 Classified Special Containment Procedures: Any alterations involving SCP-8070, whether of objects or personnel, must be promptly reported upon discovery. Retrieval efforts for the original subject are warranted only for items of significant value, provided that the broken instance can be traced back to its former location. Certain landfills and mass graves suspected of hosting SCP-8070 are continuously monitored. Destruction methods such as incineration, smashing, and demolition are recommended for waste and cadaver processing. Locations for such activities should be chosen with caution to avoid proximity to residential areas and areas of human congregation, particularly undisclosed Foundation facilities with a high density of personnel. Rooms containing personnel or materials should maintain minimal lighting and ventilation levels, especially during nighttime. While the effectiveness of reality stabilizers against SCP-8070 remains unproven, they are deployed within certain ranges as a precautionary measure. Description: SCP-8070 is a recurring phenomenon primarily affecting objects and entities in enclosed spaces with poor lighting conditions within human residences. Its manifestation is sporadic but tends to occur more frequently near landfill sites, dumpster collections, garbage recycling stations, and poorly maintained sewage pipes. Objects influenced by SCP-8070 undergo alterations in appearance while maintaining consistent net weight and basic chemical composition. All observed instances of SCP-8070 involve sudden changes such as rotting, decay, staining by unknown contaminants (typically wet soil and human excretions), and occasionally disintegration or shattering. SCP-8070 is currently hypothesized to be a form of reality distortion affecting the inner structure of objects while adhering to the law of mass conservation. As such, reality-stabilizing technologies are employed in attempts to neutralize SCP-8070 within testable ranges. Addendum 1: Incident Reports Time: 09:47 AM, Sep 29, 2023. Place: Food storage house of a local grocery store. Description: 25 kg of packaged food was discovered altered to resemble spent food packages, emitting a strong odor of rotten meat. While shop owners initially suspected burglary, subsequent investigation revealed no recognition of the altered packages as goods in their possession. Chemical analysis failed to identify traces of human cells or genetic fingerprints. The affected garbage was subsequently removed, and no further instances of SCP-8070 occurred after the installation of cameras equipped with lamps inside the storage facility. Time: 08:23 AM, Oct 19, 2023. Place: Facility kitchen of Site-██. Description: All canned food and raw materials with opaque packaging were transformed into an indiscernible, foul-smelling sludge within their original containers. Staff discovered the altered contents after heating and cooking the food, revealing a thick reddish-yellow sludge instead of the expected food items. Analysis of the sample revealed small chicken bone fragments, along with other food scraps, human hairs, phlegm, and decomposed tissue pieces too degraded for identification. Time: 07:04 AM, Nov 8, 2023. Place: Gymnasium in a middle school situated on the former site of a landfill [REDACTED]. Description: Metal equipment within the gymnasium vanished and was replaced by wreckage from various machinery, including bent rebars, broken lathes, and rusted pieces likely from scrapped cars. Subsequent investigation confirmed the materials as buried waste from [REDACTED], an automobile assembly factory formerly affiliated with the Foundation. Following the incident, the contaminated equipment was removed, and replacement equipment was donated to the school by Foundation personnel under the guise of charitable giving. Time: 10:45 PM, Dec 22, 2023. Place: A public restroom near the aboveground portion of Site-██. Description: Two civilians exiting the restroom observed a viscous liquid with foul-smelling solid content flowing from the faucet. The liquid resembled sewage mixed with feces, blood, vomit, and wet paper splinters. Subsequent investigation revealed a clogged water pipe, which was promptly repaired. The restroom was later demolished due to disuse, with no further instances of municipal water system contamination reported. Time: 01:33 AM, Dec 25, 2023. Place: Countryside residence of [REDACTED], a two-story civilian house. Description: The family's six-year-old daughter was reported missing, only to be discovered asleep in her bedroom without a window. Upon inspection, her mother found an unidentified young human cadaver with partially dismembered limbs, moderate decomposition, and covered in dried mud and insects lying in the daughter's place. Police confirmed the identity of the corpse as a five-year-old boy who died in a car accident one month prior and was buried nearby without cremation. Foundation investigators, accompanied by police, excavated the burial site, revealing the victim's body buried 1.8 meters underground in a crooked position. The victim appeared to have died from suffocation and dehydration. Time: 12:01 AM, Jan 1, 2024. Place: Emergency shelter on the basement floor of Site-███. Description: During a routine inspection, the nuke-defense structure with an airtight gate was found displaced, forming a deformed structure within the office building above it, resulting in significant structural damage. While no casualties were reported, reality anchors were subsequently deployed throughout the site to disrupt spatial consistency within the underground complex. Continuous artificial lighting was mandated for nearby subterranean facilities in response to the incident. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8070" by Dr Talcite, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8070. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Landfill terrain 2 - geograph.org.uk - 5694807.jpg Author: Jonathan Wilkins License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-8071 | keter | Hide your wounds. Item #: SCP-8071 Special Containment Procedures: The Department of Misinformation has managed to discredit SCP-8071 as a little-known urban legend. However, current protocols are deemed insufficient due to their considerable expense and egregious overreliance on the GAUZE Protocol.1 All data collected on the phenomenon are to be forwarded to the SCP-8071 Research Team, currently located at Site-270, for the creation of alternative containment procedures. Description: SCP-8071 designates an anomalous phenomenon affecting a small subset of the global population. SCP-8071 appears as increasingly severe lacerations upon the subjects’ bodies, starting on the arms and working its way to the torso before moving down to the legs. The anomaly typically manifests in early adulthood and is, assuming medical aid is provided, fatal within the next 5-10 years. Typical causes of death include blood loss, opportunistic infection, sustained trauma causing damage to the immune system, and organ failure. Efforts by the Department of Thaumaturgy to prevent or slow this process have failed. SCP-8071 is believed to trace its origins to the Daevite city of Kazenrud, when Onvi-hur, a minor noble, sent a letter to his personal Mašaideáṭ2 requesting that a curse be levied upon Hezhum-bet, a rival nobleman, so that “him and all his disgusting brood would suffer the slow death of a thousand cuts, in perpetuity”. The Mašaideáṭ agreed to the request and performed the ritual sometime in the next week. The specifics are unknown, as most records of that period of Daevite history have been lost, but it is known that the following materials were requested: Three athames, of which one was to be shattered; Five slaves below the age of 9, in good health;3 The pickled fetus of an East Siberian brown bear;4 “Five septs [Daevite unit of measurement] of the usual herbs”; A jar of Hezhum-bet’s bodily fluids;5 Human bones, to create a ritual circle; The ritual was successful and spread through Hezhum-bet’s line quickly, causing the death of approximately three-quarters of his family. Onvi-hur wrote to his Mašaideáṭ, congratulating him on the triumph. The majority of Hezhum-bet’s and Onvi-hur’s families are believed to have perished in the sacking of Kazenrud. What little descendants survived integrated into the Siberian population and lost their Daevite customs. With the fall of the Empire, the rituals sustaining SCP-8071 decayed and ceased to show any anomalous activity. However, the rise of neo-Daevite movements6 has complicated this. Centered almost exclusively in the USA, where GoI-140-C is most prevalent, SCP-8071 has been reactivated. SCP-8071 now manifests seemingly randomly among a small percentage of the individuals genetically descended from Hezhum-bet. AUTOMATED NOTICE The remainder of this file is restricted to personnel with 4/8071 Clearance. Attempting to access it without the proper credentials is considered a Class-V Infraction and will be disciplined accordingly. ACCESS GRANTED Addendum — Containment Update 10/12/2020 On 10/12/2020, the SCP-8071 Research Team made a breakthrough in stable and affordable containment of the anomaly. Attached is an excerpt of their presentation. Database ID: SCP-8071 Priority Level: Keneq Flagged Departments: Containment, Analytics, Memetics, Misinformation, Thaumaturgy, Information Technology, Finance Proposal: SCP-8071 has been one of the most vexing phenomena ever encountered by the Department of Containment. Despite almost exclusively affecting citizens of the United States, in which the Foundation exerts maximal capacity, containment is unsustainable and extremely expensive. More final solutions, such as the mass detainment and/or termination of those affected, would constitute an unacceptable risk to the Veil and the Foundation’s positive relations with the US Government. Moreover, as is typical for Daevite rituals, attempts to decommission the anomaly have failed utterly. However, although they were incapable of neutralizing SCP-8071, the Department of Thaumaturgy has managed to discern a number of important details related to the anomaly’s behavior. Most importantly, they were able to classify SCP-8071 as a Moirai-class ritual. To clarify, Moirai-class rituals function via high-level probabilistic manipulation. In the case of SCP-8071, the anomaly does not directly cut its victim’s body. Rather, it alters fate to ensure that such an outcome occurs. It is merely that the simplest way that this manifests is the “phantom slashes” on the subject’s person, of seemingly no origin. This implies that as long as the subject’s body is repeatedly cut via other means, the anomaly will remain dormant. The alterations to SCP-8071’s containment procedures hinge on this detail. The SCP-8071 Research Team proposes the following: Subjects at risk of SCP-8071 are to be tracked by the Department of Analytics; Access to genetic databases gained by the Foundation’s contracts with 23andMe, Ancestry.com, and the Central Intelligence Agency are to be used to facilitate this; Any subjects found to be affected by the anomaly are to immediately have their personal devices infected by .AICs designed by the Department of Misinformation;7 These devices are to be used as vectors to covertly expose the subject to SILKWORM-class memetic agents; These memetic agents are to be derived from the emotional profiles of D-Class subjects on high-risk detail as well as personnel assigned to Site-17; The purpose of these memetic agents is to induce in the subject an uncontrollable compulsion towards self-mutilation, increasingly driving the subject to lacerate their body with any available sharp objects; If necessary, to decrease suspicion, a personal crisis is to be manufactured; At the same time, the subject is to be repeatedly exposed to advertisements for Sabatzky-Coleman Psychiatrics;8 These advertisements are to emphasize Sabatzky-Coleman’s extreme effectiveness in curing DSH;9 Should the subject be of lesser means, they are to be informed that the first session for a potential patient of Sabatzky-Coleman is free; During this session, they are to be put under the effect of counter-memetic agents intended to temporarily cure their DSH; This will result in the brief lessening of their self-harming tendencies, the only treatment that will prove effective; Sabatzky-Coleman psychiatrists are to nurture a dependence on their services, emphasizing their reliability and efficacy; They are then to charge premium rates for said services, citing a number of cover stories developed by the Department of Finance; If the subject is of lesser means, they are to be encouraged to take out loans from Foundation-run firms or borrow money from relatives; At the same time, to ensure that the conditions of the SCP-8071 ritual are satisfied, their DSH is to be nurtured by the SILKWORM-class memetic agents, steadily increasing in effectiveness; The only respite from their compulsive self-harm will be Sabatzky-Coleman sessions, which are to slowly decrease their effectiveness; As the subject’s mental and physical state deteriorates, they will cease to be considered a reputable source of information and their threat to the Veil will plummet; Eventually the subject will be institutionalized by their family or commit suicide; As the former involves a minor risk to the Veil, the latter is preferable; The above protocols are believed to result in the total containment of SCP-8071 as well as lucrative profits for the Foundation. Above proposal originally denied by the Ethics Committee under Resolution EC #2918, which dissuades the use of memetic agents to harm civilians. Proposal approved upon appeal under #2918 §2, which permits the harmful use of memetic agents upon civilians "(a) already impacted by an anomalous phenomenon (b) for purposes directly related to containment of said phenomenon." SCP-8071 revised protocols placed into effect. Footnotes 1. [RESTRICTED TO 4/HOLLOW CHALICE CLEARANCE] 2. A thaumaturge. Literally “Blood Commander”. 3. Only three of the slaves were required in the ritual. The remaining two were part of the Mašaideáṭ’s payment. 4. Ursus arctos collaris. 5. It is believed that urine was provided. 6. Designated GoI-140-C. A loose collection of far-right activist groups possessing knowledge of the practices and history of the Daevite Empire. 7. Requests to have the paranormal branches of Alphabet Inc. and Microsoft Corporation assist in this have been denied. 8. A Foundation-run chain of wellness clinics. 9. Deliberate self harm. |
SCP-8073 | euclid | Sample location of SCP-8073 event. Item #: SCP-8073 Special Containment Procedures: Due to the widespread and random manifestation of SCP-8073 phenomena, physical containment of SCP-8073 has been deemed impractical. Internet traffic and keyphrase monitoring, as well as incident inquiry and response authorisation, are to be handled by MTF-Kappa-17 ("Yellow Anorak"). Video surveillance of frequently affected sites is ongoing. A modified HODUR [Σ-Yellow Press] counterpropaganda protocol is authorised for publication relating to SCP-8073 and/or related injuries/deaths. HODUR protocol has proven effective at severely limiting the impact of SCP-8073 events, and is preferred over deployment of amnestics in all but the most extreme cases. Hi team - just to let you know, as of this Friday we're rescinding authority for SCP-8073 inquiry budget claims for anyone below department heads. We see a lot of zebras, I get it, but we look in the zebra's mouth. If you seriously think a sighting warrants attachment to SCP-8073, crack out powerpoint (like the Sites with the guns have to) and bring it to me. In the meantime, you're going to notice a new face having a look around - that's Miriam Stout and she's our new HODUR liaison. She'll be here for a week taking a look at what we refer and giving advice, and then she'll be on tap remotely from Site-██. A great use for false alarms would be to pass them on to her so she can get them to our media partners. Best, - Dan Description: SCP-8073 is a repeating phenomenon affecting disparate sites in England, Wales and southern Scotland. SCP-8073 primarily manifests close to areas of religious or political significance during the period preceding the Norman conquest of England, including but not limited to: Sutton Hoo in Suffolk, Crowland Abbey, the isle of Ely, specific zones of the city of Winchester, hotspots along the eastern flank of Offa's Dyke, Durham Cathedral and the island of Lindisfarne.1 MTF-Kappa-17's current working hypothesis is that phenomena at other locations may represent areas of Saxon significance currently unknown to archaeologists. SCP-8073 is among the oldest extant SCP archives initially recorded under something approximating modern scientific standards of observation. The archive survived [REDACTED], which compromised the majority of the records maintained by HMFSCP (Her Majesty's Foundation for the Secure Containment of the Paranormal), and was subsequently passed onto the modern Foundation. Approximately 1,100 SCP-8073 events were documented prior to Foundation acquisition. The reliability of many of these accounts is in question, as SCP-8073 identifications are prone to false positives and even HMFSCP themselves appear to have partially acquired their records from a previous source2, and copied these records into their own format.3 The older HMFSCP case notes claim records as far back as the thirteenth century. Dan, what do we know about HMFSCP collection standards anyway? ik HMFSCP stuff is all redacted, but how do we know we can trust anything prior to ████ if it was done by the same guys who spent their gap years ripping up knossos & using mummy dust as paint?? Zorah Hi Zorah, We know that they're usually not pulling this stuff completely out of their arses. I hear what you're saying, but you and I will both get stonewalled on anything like this. Even ████ is a best guess working from the documents we've gotten. SOP right now is to accept black ink as valid data and create second lower-certainty models using the earlier green ink stuff. Just show your working and you'll be fine. Best, - Dan SCP-8073 manifests to witnesses as a light or flame, appearing at moderate distance. Reliable measurement and description of SCP-8073 is made very difficult by a low report rate and the existence of several superficially similar mundane and anomalous phenomena, as well as the apparent lack of a consistent trigger. SCP-8073 appears exclusively in low light conditions and will demanifest under concentrated artificial light or with the sunrise. SCP-8073 has a simple cognitohazardous effect on humans, compelling interest. Those affected by SCP-8073 display a wide range of behaviours, including but not limited to: feeling compelled to ''find'' or ''walk to'' SCP-8073; expressing at length the appeal and beauty of SCP-8073; writing or recording feelings about SCP-8073; expressing exaggerated fear of SCP-8073; taking photographs of or 'selfies' with SCP-8073. SCP-8073 does not directly interact with humans beyond its cognitohazardous effect. Injury/death related to SCP-8073 is rare and incidental to the act of interacting with or following it. It appears to be impossible to ''catch up'' to SCP-8073, which will recede when chased. The subset of people who feel compelled to follow SCP-8073 display reckless determination and will cross property boundaries, traffic or bodies of water in so doing, sometimes at risk to their wellbeing. SCP-8073's effect seems to continue until it demanifests. SCP-8073's cognitohazardous effect is by no means insurmountable; both specific personality traits4 and/or prior warning appear to be effective countermeasures. Further data is pending, as SCP-8073's inconsistency and low threat level have delayed organised testing with cognitoresistance-trained personnel. Hi Miriam, Please find the HODUR stuff attached going back to 1946. Before that the Foundation was collaborating with the OSS on stuff like this, which is redacted for me but not for you, so you'll have to find that yourself. =p Best, - Dan 15.02.2015.10.12.44.HODUR-XXXX.accessing... HODUR-8073-1066// dc1998.11.29 Telly Troubles: How TV Is Ruining Your Health NUMBER FOUR: SEEING STARS The Royal College of Opthalmologists warns that people who watch more than ten hours of telly a week are up to SIX TIMES as likely to see light spots and even to report GHOST sightings. Our resident boffin GP Dan T Tudgel says: "I see a lot of patients who report seeing spots, and many aren't even old. As you age, the vitreous fluid around your eye slowly thins, and little fibres can collect, which affects your vision." "What my younger patients have in common is too much TV or laptop, and they keep screens much too close to the face. Nobody should be embarassed if they start seeing stars - just pop in to see your GP and get a referral." HODUR-8073-1091// dc2013.09.14 IT HAPPENED TO ME: I Saw An Angel While Recovering From Anal Fissure Repair It didn't appear as a flaming wheel of eyes, or as some winged guy with a six pack. It was just a light. I told you at the beginning of this that you'd feel sceptical, and here I know it's occurring to you - that's just a light, Dinah. But I knew it had intention. I knew it could see me, knew it knew who I was. And I knew it loved me. I had been rock bottom, pun intended. I was in so much pain and so humiliated. The light that loved me brought me back from the edge. And I can sit on a toilet again now, so that's great too. 15.02.2015.10.12.44.HODUR-XXXX.logout... Investigation into the specific extent of SCP-8073's cognitohazardous effect is ongoing. It appears to be ego-syntonic - the anomalous interest in SCP-8073 is not perceived as a command or separate impulse from the self, even if the subject is later informed of the nature of the phenomenon. People affected by SCP-8073 report a range of emotions, from embarassment at having abandoned their previous activity to a lingering meta-interest in their own intense fascination. SCP-8073's cognitohazardous effect does not appear to linger after it demanifests, although the strangeness of the event can lead to preoccupation on the part of the subject. As this preoccupation poses a low risk to containment, online keyword monitoring is preferred to amnestic deployment and the concommitant resource expenditure. Hi Zorah, I got back your request for field funding related to 8073 and unfortunately it's a no. If we get a week soon when Anna seems comparatively unstressed, I'll try again then, but I wouldn't be too optimistic. Best, - Dan Dan, yeah I assumed. thanks anyway. Zorah Personnel Incident MTF-κ17-036 Documentation: FIELD REPORT MTF-κ17-8073-61 FIELD REPORT MTF-κ17-8073-61 REPORTING OFFICER: Zorah Helmy Arrived on scene after referral from Cambridgeshire Constabulary contact under protocol HELPMEET. Mobile phone of Emma Wilson (deceased) acquired - other items returned to parents. Forensic report shows no anomalous effect beyond physical injuries sustained in the deceased's fall - like the location, this is consistent with 8073 encounters. HODUR protocol discussed with M. Stout by telephone. Police reported that the deceased livestreamed a section of her 8073 encounter to a small audience on Instagram Live. Deceased was heavily inebriated at the time of death and clarity of recorded footage is very poor. Friends present with the deceased do not report having seen a light and did not follow the deceased. Instagram account deletion request already made by police at behest of parents. Reconstruction of events is as follows: Deceased leaves The Regal at about 1:40am and walks with friends towards the Drummer St. bus station, intending to take the 1 home to the deceased's address in the Arbury estate. No bus is available due to reduced bank holiday service. Deceased and friends deliberate, then decide to head home on foot. Surveillance footage shows group crossing the Magdalene Bridge at 2:03am. Deceased begins broadcasting on Instagram Live at 2.14am. Deceased ascends Castle Hill while broadcasting. Friends stay at bottom of hill, objecting loudly. As attested by both video and witness statements, the deceased repeatedly exclaims ''it's fucking beautiful''. Deceased reaches summit of Castle Hill, falls and is fatally injured. Final Recommendation: No amnestic deployment required - deceased's behaviour easily ascribed to drunkenness. Video contained and deleted. Recommend low priority HODUR flag for name of deceased in conjunction with SCP-8073 keyphrases. SITE-██ CHAT LOG 2016.05.08 SITE-██ CHAT LOG 2016.05.08 Semolina: zorah wtf is this groupchat theme Semolina: also are you coming archive, we're going to bash out the new research request for ████ before the file dump on monday dan keeps shitting himself about Puff Pastry: it's us as beige foods Puff Pastry: oh sure actually let me get a coffee Puff Pastry: 10 mins Single Undercooked Chip:👀👀👀 Don't let dad see you cramming last minute Single Undercooked Chip: Wow *dan Single Undercooked Chip: Upsettingly freudian SITE-██ CHAT LOG 2016.05.21 SITE-██ CHAT LOG 2016.05.21 Puff Pastry: genuinely i'm just tired. i want to like miriam but it's like she's trying to get us to work or something =p Semolina: you sure I can't take anything off you? I'm drowning in old norse translation requests from site-██ and they're always total pricks Semolina: so I'd love to have a reason to tell them to wait longer Puff Pastry: thank you honestly, but it's not stuff i want to hand off (8073 final filing etc) Semolina: ah ok, fair enough SITE-██ CHAT LOG 2016.06.13 SITE-██ CHAT LOG 2016.06.13 Puff Pastry: turned down again :( Semolina: ah… they're always really stingy about deploying field teams. sorry Puff Pastry: lmao at us being a mobile task force Puff Pastry: ''mobile'' = we walk to the canteen. sometimes we show up in a mazda after a girl dies Single Undercooked Chip: I don't think it's personal, it's budget triage Puff Pastry: i know that Single Undercooked Chip: We don't know what fires are being put out with the stuff we want for ours, I'm just saying Puff Pastry: ok Incident MTF-κ17-036-A REPORT Incident MTF-κ17-036-A REPORT [18:31] A figure [identified as Junior Archivist Zorah Helmy] gets out of her car in the Shire Hall car park adjacent to Castle Hill, and makes the short climb to the summit. A few members of the public are gathered, as the sun has yet to set. Helmy sets out a small picnic blanket and a e-reader from her backpack, then sits and begins to read. [19:04] Helmy is alone. She retrieves printed copies of several archived HMFSCP files and begins reading them by the light of her phone. [23:06] Helmy leaves. This is the first of a further eighteen examples of Junior Archivist Helmy visiting this site. On at least two occasions she was in possession of printed copies of HMFSCP files classified Level 0 General, a violation of Site guidelines on data handling. Incident MTF-κ17-036-B REPORT Incident MTF-κ17-036-B REPORT After issues were flagged regarding Archivist Helmy's workplace conduct, she was placed under LYME monitoring. The following is a transcript of a recording obtained 28.07.2016. Helmy appears to have posed as a journalist in order to gain access to the victim's family. [23:06]: Junior Archivist Zorah Helmy parks her car across the street from 19 Carisbrooke Drive and walks up the garden path to the front door. She rings the doorbell. Rita Wilson:5: Hiya, are you Zorah? Archivist Helmy: Yes, hi, hello. Thanks again for this. The two enter. Rita Wilson: Cup of tea? Archivist Helmy: Just water, if that's alright? [27:13]: Mrs Wilson and Archivist Helmy are sat across from one another in Mrs' Wilson's living room. Archivist Helmy: What I'm really hoping to do is raise more awareness around binge drinking, to try and avoid what happened to your granddaughter. Rita Wilson: The same thing happened to your brother, you said? Archivist Helmy: [hesitation] Right, exactly. You see what it does to families, I think. Rita Wilson: Yes. Archivist Helmy: So I wanted to ask more about your granddaughter. Rita Wilson: Well, what kind of thing - Archivist Helmy: Just about her. Her personality, her dreams, who she was. Rita Wilson: [laughter] Well. She was charismatic. Always had a gaggle of friends round her. You want to think they're the bad influence, but I think Emma probably was. Archivist Helmy: Sounds like me at that age. Rita Wilson: Me too. She always hated school. She left after her GCSEs, didn't look back. It took her a while to find her way. Archivist Helmy: Yeah. Rita Wilson: Honestly, I don't know what her dreams were. She liked her life, I think. Wasn't so focused on the future. Archivist Helmy: Smart. INTERNAL REPORT FOR PERSONNEL INCIDENT MTF-κ17-036 INTERNAL REPORT FOR PERSONNEL INCIDENT MTF-κ17-036 Employee: Zorah Helmy Line Manager: Daniel Clarke Reported Issue: Behavioural concerns reported directly to [REDACTED] by M Stout, referred back to me. Ongoing low-level interaction issues with other Site employees, conflict etc. Significant data breaches (documents taken offsite). Action taken: Internal suspension for seven days. Mandatory counselling due to ongoing emotional state, reorientation regarding Foundation data policy. Outlook: Archivist Helmy suitably chastened by prospect of having to redo another two day data policy orientation. Some troublesome data access habits following reintegration to MTF, but all strictly on-site, and I'm keeping an eye out. I emphatically disagree with Miriam's recommendation. Firstly, I don't care what she cites, people come back worse at their jobs. Minds are not hard drives that can be defragged. Secondly, I retain hope that the Foundation has not adopted the axiom that empathy is to be purged for the benefit of operational effectiveness; if so, please inform me and I will give my two weeks notice. Miriam, See attached my request for a change of HODUR liaison. Sincerely no hard feelings - you're not the first to assume that they pull the Directors for boring Sites out their arses. Learning opportunity =) Best, - Dan "ACCESS LOG 2019.06.15 USER MTF-κ-HELMY.Z" HMFSCP Clipping #041 Case XLVII: Reference Text Four, J. Willoughby "That she-wolf of the water bore him away, once they came to the bottom, carried the ring mailed prince to her dwelling, so that he was unable to wield his weapon, though he had his fill of courage. A rushing horde of wondrous creatures pressed upon him in those waters, many a sea-beast tore with its tusks at his war-shirt, gave a fierce pursuit. Than that prince perceived that he was in some hostile hall, where water harmed him not at all, saw that the roof of the place held back the current, the sudden pull of the waters: there a gleaming light shone bright within.” Beowulf [Internal Translation] HMFSCP Clipping #096 Case XLVII: Reference Text Eighteen, J. Willoughby I HAD, in part, touching, sight, and feeling in three properties of God, in which the strength and effect of all the Revelation standeth: and they were seen in every Shewing, and most properly in the Twelfth, where it saith oftentimes: [It is I.] The properties are these: Life, Love, and Light. In life is marvellous homeliness, and in love is gentle courtesy, and in light is endless Nature-hood. Our faith is a light by nature coming of our endless Day, that is our Father, God. In which light our Mother, Christ, and our good Lord, the Holy Ghost, leadeth us in this passing life. This light is measured discreetly, needfully standing to us in the night. The light is cause of our life; the night is cause of our pain and of all our woe: in which we earn meed and thanks of God. For we, with mercy and grace, steadfastly know and believe our light, going therein wisely and mightily. And at the end of woe, suddenly our eyes shall be opened, and in clearness of light our sight shall be full: which light is God, our Maker and Holy Ghost, in Christ Jesus our Saviour. Thus I saw and understood that our faith is our light in our night: which light is God, our endless Day. Collected Works Of Julian of Norwich "ACCESS LOG END" Footnotes 1. An alphabetised list of all SCP-8073 locations is part of the General Access Archive at Site-214. 2. HMFSCP records mark older events in differently coloured ink, which is then labelled in the document legend as ''ERPI''. It is unknown who or what this refers to. 3. These original records can be accessed as part of the Level 1 General Inventory of Site-214. 4. Anecdotally, risk-aversion and/or skepticism. 5. Grandmother of deceased SCP-8073 target Emma Wilson. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8073" by Asaelka, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8073. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Castle_Mound,_Cambridge.jpg Author: Robin Drayton License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-8073 | uncontained | Sample location of SCP-8073 event. Item #: SCP-8073 Special Containment Procedures: Due to the widespread and random manifestation of SCP-8073 phenomena, physical containment of SCP-8073 has been deemed impractical. Internet traffic and keyphrase monitoring, as well as incident inquiry and response authorisation, are to be handled by MTF-Kappa-17 ("Yellow Anorak"). Video surveillance of frequently affected sites is ongoing. A modified HODUR [Σ-Yellow Press] counterpropaganda protocol is authorised for publication relating to SCP-8073 and/or related injuries/deaths. HODUR protocol has proven effective at severely limiting the impact of SCP-8073 events, and is preferred over deployment of amnestics in all but the most extreme cases. Hi team - just to let you know, as of this Friday we're rescinding authority for SCP-8073 inquiry budget claims for anyone below department heads. We see a lot of zebras, I get it, but we look in the zebra's mouth. If you seriously think a sighting warrants attachment to SCP-8073, crack out powerpoint (like the Sites with the guns have to) and bring it to me. In the meantime, you're going to notice a new face having a look around - that's Miriam Stout and she's our new HODUR liaison. She'll be here for a week taking a look at what we refer and giving advice, and then she'll be on tap remotely from Site-██. A great use for false alarms would be to pass them on to her so she can get them to our media partners. Best, - Dan Description: SCP-8073 is a repeating phenomenon affecting disparate sites in England, Wales and southern Scotland. SCP-8073 primarily manifests close to areas of religious or political significance during the period preceding the Norman conquest of England, including but not limited to: Sutton Hoo in Suffolk, Crowland Abbey, the isle of Ely, specific zones of the city of Winchester, hotspots along the eastern flank of Offa's Dyke, Durham Cathedral and the island of Lindisfarne.1 MTF-Kappa-17's current working hypothesis is that phenomena at other locations may represent areas of Saxon significance currently unknown to archaeologists. SCP-8073 is among the oldest extant SCP archives initially recorded under something approximating modern scientific standards of observation. The archive survived [REDACTED], which compromised the majority of the records maintained by HMFSCP (Her Majesty's Foundation for the Secure Containment of the Paranormal), and was subsequently passed onto the modern Foundation. Approximately 1,100 SCP-8073 events were documented prior to Foundation acquisition. The reliability of many of these accounts is in question, as SCP-8073 identifications are prone to false positives and even HMFSCP themselves appear to have partially acquired their records from a previous source2, and copied these records into their own format.3 The older HMFSCP case notes claim records as far back as the thirteenth century. Dan, what do we know about HMFSCP collection standards anyway? ik HMFSCP stuff is all redacted, but how do we know we can trust anything prior to ████ if it was done by the same guys who spent their gap years ripping up knossos & using mummy dust as paint?? Zorah Hi Zorah, We know that they're usually not pulling this stuff completely out of their arses. I hear what you're saying, but you and I will both get stonewalled on anything like this. Even ████ is a best guess working from the documents we've gotten. SOP right now is to accept black ink as valid data and create second lower-certainty models using the earlier green ink stuff. Just show your working and you'll be fine. Best, - Dan SCP-8073 manifests to witnesses as a light or flame, appearing at moderate distance. Reliable measurement and description of SCP-8073 is made very difficult by a low report rate and the existence of several superficially similar mundane and anomalous phenomena, as well as the apparent lack of a consistent trigger. SCP-8073 appears exclusively in low light conditions and will demanifest under concentrated artificial light or with the sunrise. SCP-8073 has a simple cognitohazardous effect on humans, compelling interest. Those affected by SCP-8073 display a wide range of behaviours, including but not limited to: feeling compelled to ''find'' or ''walk to'' SCP-8073; expressing at length the appeal and beauty of SCP-8073; writing or recording feelings about SCP-8073; expressing exaggerated fear of SCP-8073; taking photographs of or 'selfies' with SCP-8073. SCP-8073 does not directly interact with humans beyond its cognitohazardous effect. Injury/death related to SCP-8073 is rare and incidental to the act of interacting with or following it. It appears to be impossible to ''catch up'' to SCP-8073, which will recede when chased. The subset of people who feel compelled to follow SCP-8073 display reckless determination and will cross property boundaries, traffic or bodies of water in so doing, sometimes at risk to their wellbeing. SCP-8073's effect seems to continue until it demanifests. SCP-8073's cognitohazardous effect is by no means insurmountable; both specific personality traits4 and/or prior warning appear to be effective countermeasures. Further data is pending, as SCP-8073's inconsistency and low threat level have delayed organised testing with cognitoresistance-trained personnel. Hi Miriam, Please find the HODUR stuff attached going back to 1946. Before that the Foundation was collaborating with the OSS on stuff like this, which is redacted for me but not for you, so you'll have to find that yourself. =p Best, - Dan 15.02.2015.10.12.44.HODUR-XXXX.accessing... HODUR-8073-1066// dc1998.11.29 Telly Troubles: How TV Is Ruining Your Health NUMBER FOUR: SEEING STARS The Royal College of Opthalmologists warns that people who watch more than ten hours of telly a week are up to SIX TIMES as likely to see light spots and even to report GHOST sightings. Our resident boffin GP Dan T Tudgel says: "I see a lot of patients who report seeing spots, and many aren't even old. As you age, the vitreous fluid around your eye slowly thins, and little fibres can collect, which affects your vision." "What my younger patients have in common is too much TV or laptop, and they keep screens much too close to the face. Nobody should be embarassed if they start seeing stars - just pop in to see your GP and get a referral." HODUR-8073-1091// dc2013.09.14 IT HAPPENED TO ME: I Saw An Angel While Recovering From Anal Fissure Repair It didn't appear as a flaming wheel of eyes, or as some winged guy with a six pack. It was just a light. I told you at the beginning of this that you'd feel sceptical, and here I know it's occurring to you - that's just a light, Dinah. But I knew it had intention. I knew it could see me, knew it knew who I was. And I knew it loved me. I had been rock bottom, pun intended. I was in so much pain and so humiliated. The light that loved me brought me back from the edge. And I can sit on a toilet again now, so that's great too. 15.02.2015.10.12.44.HODUR-XXXX.logout... Investigation into the specific extent of SCP-8073's cognitohazardous effect is ongoing. It appears to be ego-syntonic - the anomalous interest in SCP-8073 is not perceived as a command or separate impulse from the self, even if the subject is later informed of the nature of the phenomenon. People affected by SCP-8073 report a range of emotions, from embarassment at having abandoned their previous activity to a lingering meta-interest in their own intense fascination. SCP-8073's cognitohazardous effect does not appear to linger after it demanifests, although the strangeness of the event can lead to preoccupation on the part of the subject. As this preoccupation poses a low risk to containment, online keyword monitoring is preferred to amnestic deployment and the concommitant resource expenditure. Hi Zorah, I got back your request for field funding related to 8073 and unfortunately it's a no. If we get a week soon when Anna seems comparatively unstressed, I'll try again then, but I wouldn't be too optimistic. Best, - Dan Dan, yeah I assumed. thanks anyway. Zorah Personnel Incident MTF-κ17-036 Documentation: FIELD REPORT MTF-κ17-8073-61 FIELD REPORT MTF-κ17-8073-61 REPORTING OFFICER: Zorah Helmy Arrived on scene after referral from Cambridgeshire Constabulary contact under protocol HELPMEET. Mobile phone of Emma Wilson (deceased) acquired - other items returned to parents. Forensic report shows no anomalous effect beyond physical injuries sustained in the deceased's fall - like the location, this is consistent with 8073 encounters. HODUR protocol discussed with M. Stout by telephone. Police reported that the deceased livestreamed a section of her 8073 encounter to a small audience on Instagram Live. Deceased was heavily inebriated at the time of death and clarity of recorded footage is very poor. Friends present with the deceased do not report having seen a light and did not follow the deceased. Instagram account deletion request already made by police at behest of parents. Reconstruction of events is as follows: Deceased leaves The Regal at about 1:40am and walks with friends towards the Drummer St. bus station, intending to take the 1 home to the deceased's address in the Arbury estate. No bus is available due to reduced bank holiday service. Deceased and friends deliberate, then decide to head home on foot. Surveillance footage shows group crossing the Magdalene Bridge at 2:03am. Deceased begins broadcasting on Instagram Live at 2.14am. Deceased ascends Castle Hill while broadcasting. Friends stay at bottom of hill, objecting loudly. As attested by both video and witness statements, the deceased repeatedly exclaims ''it's fucking beautiful''. Deceased reaches summit of Castle Hill, falls and is fatally injured. Final Recommendation: No amnestic deployment required - deceased's behaviour easily ascribed to drunkenness. Video contained and deleted. Recommend low priority HODUR flag for name of deceased in conjunction with SCP-8073 keyphrases. SITE-██ CHAT LOG 2016.05.08 SITE-██ CHAT LOG 2016.05.08 Semolina: zorah wtf is this groupchat theme Semolina: also are you coming archive, we're going to bash out the new research request for ████ before the file dump on monday dan keeps shitting himself about Puff Pastry: it's us as beige foods Puff Pastry: oh sure actually let me get a coffee Puff Pastry: 10 mins Single Undercooked Chip:👀👀👀 Don't let dad see you cramming last minute Single Undercooked Chip: Wow *dan Single Undercooked Chip: Upsettingly freudian SITE-██ CHAT LOG 2016.05.21 SITE-██ CHAT LOG 2016.05.21 Puff Pastry: genuinely i'm just tired. i want to like miriam but it's like she's trying to get us to work or something =p Semolina: you sure I can't take anything off you? I'm drowning in old norse translation requests from site-██ and they're always total pricks Semolina: so I'd love to have a reason to tell them to wait longer Puff Pastry: thank you honestly, but it's not stuff i want to hand off (8073 final filing etc) Semolina: ah ok, fair enough SITE-██ CHAT LOG 2016.06.13 SITE-██ CHAT LOG 2016.06.13 Puff Pastry: turned down again :( Semolina: ah… they're always really stingy about deploying field teams. sorry Puff Pastry: lmao at us being a mobile task force Puff Pastry: ''mobile'' = we walk to the canteen. sometimes we show up in a mazda after a girl dies Single Undercooked Chip: I don't think it's personal, it's budget triage Puff Pastry: i know that Single Undercooked Chip: We don't know what fires are being put out with the stuff we want for ours, I'm just saying Puff Pastry: ok Incident MTF-κ17-036-A REPORT Incident MTF-κ17-036-A REPORT [18:31] A figure [identified as Junior Archivist Zorah Helmy] gets out of her car in the Shire Hall car park adjacent to Castle Hill, and makes the short climb to the summit. A few members of the public are gathered, as the sun has yet to set. Helmy sets out a small picnic blanket and a e-reader from her backpack, then sits and begins to read. [19:04] Helmy is alone. She retrieves printed copies of several archived HMFSCP files and begins reading them by the light of her phone. [23:06] Helmy leaves. This is the first of a further eighteen examples of Junior Archivist Helmy visiting this site. On at least two occasions she was in possession of printed copies of HMFSCP files classified Level 0 General, a violation of Site guidelines on data handling. Incident MTF-κ17-036-B REPORT Incident MTF-κ17-036-B REPORT After issues were flagged regarding Archivist Helmy's workplace conduct, she was placed under LYME monitoring. The following is a transcript of a recording obtained 28.07.2016. Helmy appears to have posed as a journalist in order to gain access to the victim's family. [23:06]: Junior Archivist Zorah Helmy parks her car across the street from 19 Carisbrooke Drive and walks up the garden path to the front door. She rings the doorbell. Rita Wilson:5: Hiya, are you Zorah? Archivist Helmy: Yes, hi, hello. Thanks again for this. The two enter. Rita Wilson: Cup of tea? Archivist Helmy: Just water, if that's alright? [27:13]: Mrs Wilson and Archivist Helmy are sat across from one another in Mrs' Wilson's living room. Archivist Helmy: What I'm really hoping to do is raise more awareness around binge drinking, to try and avoid what happened to your granddaughter. Rita Wilson: The same thing happened to your brother, you said? Archivist Helmy: [hesitation] Right, exactly. You see what it does to families, I think. Rita Wilson: Yes. Archivist Helmy: So I wanted to ask more about your granddaughter. Rita Wilson: Well, what kind of thing - Archivist Helmy: Just about her. Her personality, her dreams, who she was. Rita Wilson: [laughter] Well. She was charismatic. Always had a gaggle of friends round her. You want to think they're the bad influence, but I think Emma probably was. Archivist Helmy: Sounds like me at that age. Rita Wilson: Me too. She always hated school. She left after her GCSEs, didn't look back. It took her a while to find her way. Archivist Helmy: Yeah. Rita Wilson: Honestly, I don't know what her dreams were. She liked her life, I think. Wasn't so focused on the future. Archivist Helmy: Smart. INTERNAL REPORT FOR PERSONNEL INCIDENT MTF-κ17-036 INTERNAL REPORT FOR PERSONNEL INCIDENT MTF-κ17-036 Employee: Zorah Helmy Line Manager: Daniel Clarke Reported Issue: Behavioural concerns reported directly to [REDACTED] by M Stout, referred back to me. Ongoing low-level interaction issues with other Site employees, conflict etc. Significant data breaches (documents taken offsite). Action taken: Internal suspension for seven days. Mandatory counselling due to ongoing emotional state, reorientation regarding Foundation data policy. Outlook: Archivist Helmy suitably chastened by prospect of having to redo another two day data policy orientation. Some troublesome data access habits following reintegration to MTF, but all strictly on-site, and I'm keeping an eye out. I emphatically disagree with Miriam's recommendation. Firstly, I don't care what she cites, people come back worse at their jobs. Minds are not hard drives that can be defragged. Secondly, I retain hope that the Foundation has not adopted the axiom that empathy is to be purged for the benefit of operational effectiveness; if so, please inform me and I will give my two weeks notice. Miriam, See attached my request for a change of HODUR liaison. Sincerely no hard feelings - you're not the first to assume that they pull the Directors for boring Sites out their arses. Learning opportunity =) Best, - Dan "ACCESS LOG 2019.06.15 USER MTF-κ-HELMY.Z" HMFSCP Clipping #041 Case XLVII: Reference Text Four, J. Willoughby "That she-wolf of the water bore him away, once they came to the bottom, carried the ring mailed prince to her dwelling, so that he was unable to wield his weapon, though he had his fill of courage. A rushing horde of wondrous creatures pressed upon him in those waters, many a sea-beast tore with its tusks at his war-shirt, gave a fierce pursuit. Than that prince perceived that he was in some hostile hall, where water harmed him not at all, saw that the roof of the place held back the current, the sudden pull of the waters: there a gleaming light shone bright within.” Beowulf [Internal Translation] HMFSCP Clipping #096 Case XLVII: Reference Text Eighteen, J. Willoughby I HAD, in part, touching, sight, and feeling in three properties of God, in which the strength and effect of all the Revelation standeth: and they were seen in every Shewing, and most properly in the Twelfth, where it saith oftentimes: [It is I.] The properties are these: Life, Love, and Light. In life is marvellous homeliness, and in love is gentle courtesy, and in light is endless Nature-hood. Our faith is a light by nature coming of our endless Day, that is our Father, God. In which light our Mother, Christ, and our good Lord, the Holy Ghost, leadeth us in this passing life. This light is measured discreetly, needfully standing to us in the night. The light is cause of our life; the night is cause of our pain and of all our woe: in which we earn meed and thanks of God. For we, with mercy and grace, steadfastly know and believe our light, going therein wisely and mightily. And at the end of woe, suddenly our eyes shall be opened, and in clearness of light our sight shall be full: which light is God, our Maker and Holy Ghost, in Christ Jesus our Saviour. Thus I saw and understood that our faith is our light in our night: which light is God, our endless Day. Collected Works Of Julian of Norwich "ACCESS LOG END" Footnotes 1. An alphabetised list of all SCP-8073 locations is part of the General Access Archive at Site-214. 2. HMFSCP records mark older events in differently coloured ink, which is then labelled in the document legend as ''ERPI''. It is unknown who or what this refers to. 3. These original records can be accessed as part of the Level 1 General Inventory of Site-214. 4. Anecdotally, risk-aversion and/or skepticism. 5. Grandmother of deceased SCP-8073 target Emma Wilson. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8073" by Asaelka, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8073. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Castle_Mound,_Cambridge.jpg Author: Robin Drayton License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-8074 | euclid | "Site-254 staff may not refer to SCP-8074, even in unofficial communications, as 'trash goblins.'" Written by TheChunk ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} NOTICE OF ADMINISTRATIVE REVIEW The protocols detailed in this document are under budgetary probation. No additional expenses are to be authorized without the express written approval of Budgetary Commission Chair Eileen Brenner. Special Containment Procedures: All contained instances of SCP-8074 are to reside in a designated housing complex within the Minimum Security Wing of Site-254. Instances who refuse to participate in mandatory counseling sessions may have their recreation privileges revoked, with the approval of their assigned case worker. Instances who display no signs of antisocial behavior after three consecutive months may be deemed eligible for reintegration into human society only with the written consent of Project Lead Dr. Richard Mayhew. Description: SCP-8074 are a group of diminutive humanoids, distinguishable from humans by their short stature, deformed facial features, and varied reptilian and insectoid appendages. All currently contained instances of SCP-8074 (identified separately as SCP-8074-1 through SCP-8074-73) have exhibited some or all of the following behavioral tendencies: An affinity for refuse, waste, and decaying organic matter A compulsion to make exhibitionistic displays of grotesque bodily functions A disregard for cultural norms associated with hygiene, public behavior, personal boundaries, and group social dynamics Instances of SCP-8074 who do not display these tendencies are not considered a threat to normalcy, and no effort is to be made to contain them at this time. Site-254 staff may not refer to SCP-8074, even in unofficial communications, as "trash goblins." Interview Log 8074-23.03 Subject: SCP-8074-23 Interviewer: Dr. Richard Mayhew Time of Interview: 2018-23-02 14:15 SCP-8074-23 Dr. Mayhew: I see from your file that your health has improved since your last physical. SCP-8074-23: I've been sleeping better this month, at least. Less to worry about here, I guess. Dr. Mayhew: Do you finally want to talk about the incident you had at work? Just before you came here? SCP-8074-23: Why? So I can go back? Dr. Mayhew: So you can be in control of what happens to you from here. Isn't that what you want? SCP-8074-23: I never liked working there. Dr. Mayhew: Pearson Media Group is a pretty tough door to get your foot in. You must have worked hard for that opportunity. SCP-8074-23: I didn’t say I didn’t work for it. I just didn’t like it. Dr. Mayhew: Don't think of it as going back. Think of it as moving forward. Whatever the next step is for you, we need to make sure you have the best chance for success. Not just for your career, but for your well-being. SCP-8074-23: If the best chance is still a bad chance, is it worth it? At least now I can sleep. Don't have to worry anymore. Not about my job. Not about my clothes. Not about anything. Dr. Mayhew: Was something wrong with your clothes at Pearson? SCP-8074-23: They never fit right. They never…never mind, you wouldn't get it. Dr. Mayhew: Why don't you try to explain it for me anyway, as long as we're both here? SCP-8074-23: It's not like they stopped fitting when I got to Pearson. They fit the same as they always did. I just never realized they didn’t fit right until I got there. It's like I didn't know how well a suit could fit until I saw the rest of them. Everyone else, their jackets always tapered so perfectly, their shirts always looked so soft, and snug, and comfortable all at the same time. Even their skin looked like it fit better than mine. Like their faces just rested more naturally on their skulls than mine did. SCP-8074-23 squeezes a pimple on its upper lip, and inhales the discharge into its snout. Dr. Mayhew: It can be easy to feel inadequate when starting off somewhere new, but that doesn't diminish what you accomplished to get there. SCP-8074-23: It wasn't just a feeling. It was just too little to ever pin down. Like how they never invited me to go out with them for drinks after work. I wouldn’t have minded if they just flat out told me, you know? If it was a company culture thing, if I was a bad fit, if I wasn't qualified to sit at the same table as them. They could have fired me for all I cared. But it never happened. If I invited myself along, no one ever said no. Dr. Mayhew: That's a good sign. SCP-8074-23: But how many times do you have to invite yourself before you wonder why no one else will do it? How many times do you have to invite yourself before you take the hint and give up? Dr. Mayhew: Is that what you did on the day of the incident? Give up? SCP-8074-23: I just stopped pretending, that's all. Not like that was what I went in that morning planning to do. I actually thought I was going to make the most of the year: it was just after winter break–we close for the last two weeks of the year, and pick up at the start of January–and I was thinking this would be the moment everything finally comes together for me. I bought a new suit and everything. It still didn’t feel like it fit right, but I figured at least I could try. So we were all sitting in the meeting room, waiting for the Director, and we were eating breakfast–you know, bagels, danishes, coffee, that sort of thing–and talking about our breaks. Everyone was going around the room talking about where they went. One went to Tokyo, one went to Milan, one had just gotten back from Jamaica. I hadn’t gone anywhere. After my car payments and student loans I was lucky I could even afford to stay at home. Even the new suit was bought on credit. Dr. Mayhew: Was it hard to tell them that? SCP-8074-23: I didn’t tell them. Because when they came around to me, they just skipped me. Like they knew not to even ask. Dr. Mayhew: Would you have felt better if they had asked? SCP-8074-23: Maybe not, but they could have asked anyway! I’m sitting at the same table as them! I earned my spot as much as them, you said it yourself! Why would they act like I’m not even… SCP-8074-23 picks a scab off of its pelvic papules, and pushes it into its gullet. SCP-8074-23: So that’s when I tore off my shirt and jacket. I figured it would never fit right as long as it kept bunching up around my back lumps, and the pus was making it sticky, so I just reached in with my claws and tore the thing to shreds. Fastest thousand dollars I ever wasted. SCP-8074-23 reaches for its back and rubs its dorsal corpuscles. Dr. Mayhew: Is that when you grabbed the garbage? SCP-8074-23: That’s when I grabbed the garbage. There was one bag in the maintenance room that had been in there since before the break. Must have been left over from the Christmas party two weeks before. I had picked up on it, you know, with my antennae, and at that point I figured why the fuck not? So I ran into the maintenance closet, pulled out that stinking bag of trash, dumped it all out on the conference table, and started stuffing as much of it as I could into my maw until security came. Dr. Mayhew: What did they say? SCP-8074-23: Say? Nothing. Not with words, at least. Dr. Mayhew: Well, how did they look? SCP-8074-23: Disgusted, mostly. Disgusted, but not surprised. Dr. Mayhew: And you? SCP-8074-23: I wasn't disgusted. Dr. Mayhew: Surely you can't honestly say you felt better eating garbage. SCP-8074-23: Listen, you might not like it, but no one can tell me how to eat garbage but me. If the table is full, I'll settle for scraps. Just don't ask me to beg for them. Dr. Mayhew: You don’t think you deserve better? SCP-8074-23: Looking at my options, I think I deserve not to starve. SCP-8074-23 regurgitates a partially decomposed fish skeleton from its laryngeal sac onto the table in front of it. Interview Log 8074-61.03 Subject: SCP-8074-61 Interviewer: Dr. Richard Mayhew Time of Interview: 2019-13-07 15:25 SCP-8074-61 Dr. Mayhew: Your case worker tells me you've been arriving late recently. Skipping meetings. What's wrong? SCP-8074-61: Nothing, really. I guess I don't see the point to all this. Dr. Mayhew: The point is to get you to a stage where you have the tools and skills to be your best self. SCP-8074-61: But I'm already my best self. Dr. Mayhew: Do you think you were being your best self at the party where the…incident occurred? SCP-8074-61: I think I was being the only self there is for me to be. Dr. Mayhew: Wouldn't you rather have a choice in the matter? SCP-8074-61 folds its arms and leans back in its chair. Dr. Mayhew: You don't have to talk about anything you're not comfortable talking about, but for your sake I think it would be best if we used this time constructively. SCP-8074-61: You're saying that because it's your job. Dr. Mayhew: My job involves many duties, but I wouldn't be taking the time to sit here and work with you if I didn't think it was worthwhile. SCP-8074-61: The incident was a last resort, that's all. Dr. Mayhew: Were you trying to make a statement? SCP-8074-61: No, I was trying to make friends. SCP-8074-61 peels a strip of dead skin from its forearm and begins to fiddle with it. SCP-8074-61: You know, I never really had any gay friends. When I was growing up, when I was in high school: if there were any gay people in my town at all, you’d never know it. It’s not something I ever felt bad about. But anything’s hard when you’re the only one. Dr. Mayhew: Is that why you joined your college’s Queer Student Alliance? SCP-8074-61: It’s why I tried. But the vibe of that place…it’s like day one when I walked in during the open house, everyone I saw gave me a look like…”what the fuck are you doing here?” Dr. Mayhew: It's easy to feel out of place when you're a newcomer. But that doesn't mean you can't have a place. No one's a newcomer forever. SCP-8074-61: That’s why I kept going back. Even after I could barely get a “hello” out of anyone that first day, I kept going back. You know, with the hope folks would warm up. It wasn’t fun, but it wasn’t as bad as not trying at all. Any chance I could take, I took. I'd talk to people. I'd get involved with activities. And it’s not like anyone told me to get out, or fuck off, or leave them alone. They just never gave anything back. Dr. Mayhew: If they let you join the club, and participate like anyone else, why would you say they didn't have a place for you? SCP-8074-61: I don't know, something behind the eyes? When someone tells you to fuck off, at least you can say hey, this guy doesn't like me, but who cares, let's just move on. But when they just leave you hanging without saying a word? I could go around the room trying my best to be friendly, and somehow by the end I’d feel like the asshole. Dr. Mayhew: Are you ready to tell me about the New Queer’s Ball? SCP-8074-61: It’s a pun. Dr. Mayhew: I understand that– SCP-8074-61: Not a very good pun. Dr. Mayhew: Are you ready to tell me about what happened? SCP-8074 picks a nodule of cerumen out of its ear and begins to suckle on it. SCP-8074-61: I tried my best. I got all dressed up, spent all afternoon styling my hair. My hair isn’t even long enough to style; I just felt like I had to put in the extra work anyway. Like if the night was going to be a success, it would be because I put in the effort. Dr. Mayhew: It sounds like you wanted to be your best self after all. SCP-8074-61: And if that had worked, would we be talking about it now? SCP-8074-61 holds its face in its hands for a moment as it expels a greenish cloud of sulfuric gas from its pectoral sphincter. SCP-8074-61: I was just really excited to finally be someplace where people like me would care about me for who I was. I don't know what I expected. I thought it would feel like…I don't know, coming home for the first time. Dr. Mayhew begins to speak, but instead stifles a cough. SCP-8074-61: It didn’t take long. As soon as I walk in the door, and I go over to Alejandro, the club president. Just to say hi, that’s all. What does he say? He looks me up and down and goes “you know, you didn’t have to come.” SCP-8074-61 deeply inhales the gas surrounding it, and releases it in a low, wet belch. SCP-8074-61: So that’s when I headed to the bathroom. I think it started because I didn’t want anyone to see me cry, but it was really because that was the fastest way to start chugging the sludge in the septic tank. Dr. Mayhew: Is that really what you wanted? SCP-8074-61: It’s not like there was anything else left to do at that point. So I tore a couple toilets off the floor and started digging in the muck and scarfing it down. But then instead of letting it pass into my gut, I gargled it all back up, ran into the club room and started spraying it as far as I could, along with as much bile as I could cough up without getting dizzy. Dr. Mayhew: But looking at that day as a whole, looking at what you had done up to that moment, and how you had hoped the evening would go: did regurgitating the effluvium all over the club room genuinely make you feel good? SCP-8074-61: It felt better than doing nothing. SCP-8074-61 spits out the hard pit of the cerumen nodule it had been suckling. SCP-8074-61: There’s a story you hear a lot when you’re a kid: that when you’re growing up, you might feel like you don’t fit in, like you’re weird, like you’re different. But Oz is somewhere over the rainbow, and once you get there you’ll find that the things that make you different are the things that make you special. Dr. Mayhew: There's a lot of truth in that story. SCP-8074-61: But what if the reason you didn’t fit in was never that the people around you were shallow and close-minded? What if, no matter where you go, you really are just a weirdo? Budgetary Probation As the containment procedures described in this document are under budgetary probation, further research into the treatment of SCP-8074 is not authorized. For more information, please refer to the attached documentation. — Office of the Budgetary Commission Transcript of Budgetary Commission Hearing 130220-8074 Parties in Attendance: Eileen Brenner, Budgetary Commission Chair Vivian Radcliffe, Ethics Committee Liaison Dr. Richard Mayhew, SCP-8074 Project Lead Ms. Brenner: Thank you for joining us for this review, Dr. Mayhew. We’ll make this as brief as possible. Ms. Radcliffe: It's nothing to worry about, dear. We just want to make sure we're getting as much benefit as possible from your work with SCP-8074. Dr. Mayhew: I’m still not sure I understand what the purpose of this review is. Is the substance of my work at Site-254 being called into question? Ms. Brenner: The substance of your work at Site-254 has always been in question, Dr. Mayhew. This is just a review. Ms. Radcliffe: We can't keep things ticking along without a little self-reflection, now can we? Dr. Mayhew: If this is an administrative review, shouldn’t there be a council representative– Ms. Radcliffe: Oh don’t worry, I think we can handle this one on our own. Dr. Mayhew: If that’s how we’re doing this, then I guess… Ms. Brenner: Alright, starting with the heart of the matter: would you like to explain to us why you consider it a good use of Foundation resources to devote time and personnel to rehabilitating trash goblins? Dr. Mayhew: We prefer the term "SCP-8074." Ms. Radcliffe: Thank you for the clarification. We've made note of your preference. Ms. Brenner: Now would you care to explain why integrating trash goblins into human society is so high on your department’s list of priorities? Dr. Mayhew: Because it's the right thing to do? SCP-8074 collectively show little propensity for violence, at least no more than the average human. The outbursts we’ve cataloged are a legitimate cause for concern, but not one that’s without solutions. To continue to sequester them even when they no longer exhibit antisocial behavior would serve no purpose. Ms. Brenner: It would serve the purpose of not having to hire social workers to discuss coping strategies with garbage-eating cretins. Ms. Radcliffe: The Foundation takes the ethical treatment of garbage-eating cretins very seriously, but providing them with counseling and self-help seminars does not fall within current policy guidelines. Dr. Mayhew: It would be cruel not to at least give them a chance to be human. Ms. Radcliffe: Wouldn't it be even more cruel to let them believe that if they try to be human, they might succeed? They know what they are. That’s why they’re here. Dr. Mayhew: We’ve made great progress so far. Ms. Radcliffe: One can teach the crow to swim, but it will never become a swan. Dr. Mayhew: Crows are remarkable birds. Ms. Radcliffe: But they’re not swans, are they? Ms. Brenner: They also can't learn to swim. Mayhew holds up a file containing SCP-8074 documentation. Dr. Mayhew: Just look at the photos in the attached files. What do you see? Ms. Brenner: Trash goblins. Dr. Mayhew: Yes, but what features do they actually have? Do they have scales? Antennae? Claws, snouts, protruding mandibles? Ms. Brenner: Of course they do. Dr. Mayhew: But look at the photo. Is that what you literally see? Ms. Brenner: …not as such. Dr. Mayhew: Then why do you say they have them? Ms. Brenner: Well, if they didn't have them, they wouldn't be trash goblins, would they? Ms. Radcliffe: It's just common sense, dear. If you're suggesting instead that your anomalies’ containment is the result of some sort of mass hallucination, it's going to take a lot more than a few photos to convince this panel. Ms. Brenner: One of them ate a septic tank. Dr. Mayhew: Hallucination? No. I've seen what they are. They've seen what they are. But it doesn't add up, does it? Why do we only learn of them after their public outbursts? If you ran a Fortune 500 company, why would you hire one in the first place? It defies reason. Ms. Radcliffe: Quotas, maybe? Dr. Mayhew: All of the entities we've contained have expressed exceptionally low feelings of self worth in high pressure social environments. The mind is a powerful thing: the easiest way to convince someone of something is to believe it yourself. What if in this case they simply believed so strongly that the universe itself began to agree? Ms. Brenner: If the universe agrees, then it's unanimous: beginning at the start of the next quarter, all projects relating to SCP-8074 will be placed on budgetary probation. If resources continue to be misused, we’ll have to reconsider the operating budget of Site-254 as a whole. If there are no further objections, this meeting is adjourned. Dr. Mayhew: Will you at least consider the success rates I’ve detailed in last quarter’s reports? Ms. Brenner: No, Dr. Mayhew. Nobody reads your reports. Dr. Mayhew slumps back in his chair, staring at his feet. He separates his cheek flaps, draws a clump of sputum from his mucus nodes, and ejects it onto his shoes. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8074" by TheChunk, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8074. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Spring Student Author: YWAM Orlando License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: www.flickr.com/photos/ywamorlando/33705812612 Filename: 48.PStreetBridge.NW.WDC.17August2013 Author: Elvert Barnes License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: www.flickr.com/photos/perspective/9643206366/ |
SCP-8075 | esoteric-class | NOTICE OF PRIVACY: The Saint Erasmus Free Clinic and Trauma Center will not divulge its patients’ medical histories. 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ACCESS BY UNAUTHORIZED INDIVIDUALS IS PROHIBITED UNDER FEDERAL LAW. You have one (1) new message! Subject: No Luck To: ANTHONY JONES | (ten.171etis.pcs|senoja#ten.171etis.pcs|senoja) From: JANICE SELLERS | (ten.171etis.pcs|srelesj#ten.171etis.pcs|srelesj) Subject: No Luck It’s not looking good. We’ve got all mobile units on the lookout for Kepler and Guerra, but without any leads they could be halfway to Cleveland by now and we’d have no way of knowing. And even if we catch up to them, for all we know SCP-8075 could already be gone for good. I’m still scanning the containment logs but so far no luck, and as long as I’m stuck in the infirmary I can’t exactly head out and look for samples. If there’s anything we can work with, it's going to be from the clinic. If it comes down to any kind of hearing, I’ve got your back with Director Davis. We’ll be in deep shit over tonight no matter what, but if we can at least pin these guys down we might be able to buy back some goodwill with her. Whatever you find, don’t keep it to yourself. Losing the sample is on me as much as it’s on you. I've attached that last transmission you were asking for. Not much to go off of, but maybe you can do more with it. — Jan ATTACHMENT 1: 8075-modified-containment-procedures.scp Item #: SCP-8075 Special Containment Procedures: Notice: Following the loss of the only extant sample of SCP-8075 on 24 December 2023, containment procedures have been suspended, as standard recovery protocols remain in effect. To ensure preservation of the sample in the event that it is recaptured, a standard humidified microbial containment chamber is to remain readied in the Site-171 fungarium. Until SCP-8075 has been returned into Foundation custody, apprehension of former agents Mario Kepler and José Guerra is to remain the top priority of the Site-171 Transport and Recovery Team. ATTACHMENT 2: 8075-171-aa-blackbox.scp The below audio log has been transcribed from the final black box recording of Foundation Transport Vehicle 171-AA. Identified below are the voices of former Foundation agents Mario Kepler and José Guerra. Owing to the condition of Transport Vehicle 171-AA at the time of its recovery, physical details have not yet been corroborated. 22:32, 24-12-2023 - BEGIN LOG Guerra: You've got to put pressure on it! Kepler: I am putting pressure! It's not working! Guerra: Well, stuff it with gauze. Kepler: It’s not enough, there is no more gauze! Guerra: Fuck! Kepler: This is it, isn't it? Guerra: Lay back. We're not done yet. Kepler: Just drive. Whatever happens, happens. Guerra: Did Jones tail us? Kepler: Maybe for a block. Not like he's catching up on foot. Guerra: What about Sellers? Kepler: I shot her. Guerra: You shot her? Kepler: She wouldn't give me the keys. Guerra: Is she dead? Kepler: I don't know. She's shot. You want to go back and take her pulse? Guerra: How are the samples doing? Kepler: Pretty fucked, that's how they're doing. Jones blew the container open as soon as we hit the van. If they make it another hour it'll be a miracle. Guerra: Well then I'm not losing you too. Kepler: …you're going the wrong way. The warehouse is off Kennedy. Guerra: We can get there later. We're going to the clinic. Kepler: Not Childs! You think I'd let her cut me open? Guerra: You can at least let her sew you shut. Kepler: Please, anyone but her… Guerra: It's not like we can just roll on up to the ER! You think they've seen anything like this before? Besides, we'd be sitting ducks for the Foundation as soon as they got your name. Kepler: Then don't give them my name. Guerra: And what are you going to tell them? How are you going to explain this? We're going to Childs. She won't ask questions. Kepler: She's a butcher. Guerra: She's a doctor! Kepler: I've heard about the way she doctors people. If she's our only option, I'll take my chances on the other side. Guerra: If you want to die, do it on your own time. I'm not living with that on my hands. Kepler: You take me to that clinic, and I won't forgive you for as long as I live. Guerra: Then you can thank me when you're dead. YOU ARE STILL ATTEMPTING TO ACCESS THE MEDICAL RECORDS OF THE SAINT ERASMUS FREE CLINIC AND TRAUMA CENTER. ACCESS BY UNAUTHORIZED INDIVIDUALS IS STILL PROHIBITED UNDER FEDERAL LAW. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK. File #10572: OPENED You are now viewing the official records of Patient #10572: Mario Kepler. If you are not authorized to view this document, it's not too late to turn back.1 Saint Erasmus Free Clinic and Trauma Center Patient Record Date of Admission: 24 December 2023 22:45 Attending Physician: Dr. Mercy Childs Patient Name: Mario Kepler Patient Age: 32 years Patient Height: 6 feet, 1 inches Patient Weight: 176 lbs Patient Race: Human Vital Signs: Yes Complaint: Yes Purpose of Visit: Patient complains of severe pain, difficulty walking and intermittent blood loss following a gunshot wound to upper right quadriceps femoris. Also present in left arm and shoulder region is an infestation of moderate to severe fungus. Prescription: Non-standard interventions will be provided as necessary.2 The following log is transcribed from security footage of the Saint Erasmus Free Clinic and Trauma Center main lobby.3 22:45, 24-12-2023 - BEGIN LOG Patient Mario Kepler and emergency contact José Guerra enter the main lobby through the door labeled “Emergency Exit”, which is propped open by a cinder block, next to the non-functioning automatic sliding door. Kepler wears a black plastic garbage bag taped over his left arm, and leans on Guerra on his right side for support. A trickle of blood runs down his right leg. Kepler: I don't like the look of this place. Guerra: No one likes hospitals. That's not what they're for. An elderly man in a paper gown and bathrobe stumbles past Kepler and Guerra, stepping out into the snow. Kepler: I don't want to die here. Guerra: I don't want you to die either. That's why we need to do this. Kepler: If I die, I die. I don't want to die here. Guerra: Well I'll be damned if I let you bleed out in the car. Kepler and Guerra walk through the crowded waiting room and approach intake clerk Pamela Persaud, who sits behind a reinforced glass window. Kepler pauses and looks up at the faded sign above her that reads “NO MALINGERING”. Persaud: Can I help you? Guerra: Dr. Childs. We need to see her. Now. Persaud: You can have a seat, fill this out, and we’ll have someone take a look at you as soon as we can. Persaud hands Guerra a clipboard through a slot at the bottom of the window. Guerra: Not someone. Dr. Childs. Now. Persaud: Dr. Childs is very busy. I can't guarantee you'll see her specifically, and even if I could, you would have to wait longer. Now you can have a seat and bring the forms back up when you're done. Kepler begins to turn away. Kepler: Let's go. Guerra: We’re not going. Kepler: Every bone in my body is telling me to run, even the one with a bullet in it. Guerra: Childs was head of trauma at Site-8002. There's not another doctor in this city you can say that about. It's her or nothing. Kepler: If she was any good don't you think she’d still be there? No one just gets up and leaves the Foundation. Guerra looks down at himself then back at Kepler. Kepler: You really want to do this? You're so goddamn sure this is the right move? Guerra: I'm not going anywhere until this is under control. Kepler: Fine. Kepler removes the garbage bag from his left arm. Covering his arm and hand is a fractal lattice of white, gray and green mold and fungal pods. He pulls his Foundation-issued ID card from his jacket and slams it into the glass window, smearing pus on the glass as he does. Kepler: Show Childs this. Persaud: Please don't hit the glass. Kepler: Just give it to her. She’ll know what it means. Kepler slides his ID through the slot in the window. A glob of pus and spores sticks to it as he does. Persaud puts on a pair of gloves, takes the ID, puts it in a paper towel, and retreats to the back of the medical center. She searches the hallways until she finds Dr. Mercy Childs. Persaud: There's a man in the waiting room who says he needs to see you right now. Childs: Just wait until he finds out what the other dozen people out there are here for. He can't wait? Persaud: He says it's an emergency. Childs: Isn't it always? Persaud: He had this. Persaud holds up the ID card. Childs: Looks like tonight just got a little longer. How does he look? Persaud: Bullet wound to his lower thigh. Self-applied tourniquet on his leg. Childs: Give him some gauze. He’ll know what to do with it. Anything less mundane? Persaud: He was showing some pretty pronounced signs of…fungus. Childs: Of course. Dr. Childs looks over the rim of her glasses, inspecting the spores on the card more closely. Childs: How close to his brain? Persaud: Left arm. Childs: Then as long as the spores haven't reached his bloodstream, we have a few hours. Persaud: And if they have? Childs: Then we’re going home early. Burn the card. Persaud: Won't he need it back? Childs: Not anymore. You have one (1) new message! Subject: Re: No Luck To: ANTHONY JONES | (ten.171etis.pcs|senoja#ten.171etis.pcs|senoja) From: JANICE SELLERS | (ten.171etis.pcs|srelesj#ten.171etis.pcs|srelesj) Subject: No Luck Did you get into the clinic database? Field crews are setting up choke points on the major roads, but at this point I think it's just to say we did something. We're not about to find SCP-8075 by stopping every car that goes over the George Washington Bridge or through the Holland Tunnel. I already put in the requests for any records relating to Childs. Not sure what we're hoping to find but I figure it can't hurt. Keep an eye out, those should be coming soon. And if you do end up with a lead, please be a little more cautious this time. For me, at least? These guys only ever got into the positions they did for a reason. Guerra spent enough time at the CDC before coming to us to make friends in Washington, and the last thing we want is to strain our relationships more than we have to. Kepler may not have any friends left at all, but don't assume he’s not dangerous. He may live like a rat, but rats fight when cornered. And they're filthy. — Jan The following log is transcribed from security footage of the Saint Erasmus Free Clinic and Trauma Center main lobby.4 23:35, 24-12-2023 - BEGIN LOG Guerra fills out paperwork on a clipboard while Kepler applies pressure to his wound. It has stopped bleeding. Guerra: You know that smell? Kepler: Smell? Guerra: That hospital smell. That smell that hits you right when you walk in the front door. I figured out what it is. Kepler: Disinfectant. Guerra: It's not disinfectant. I thought it was, but it’s not. Disinfectant smells good. Disinfectant smells clean. But that hospital smell is just wrong. From the other side of the waiting room, a baby begins crying. Guerra: It's shit. Kepler: It doesn't smell like shit. Guerra: Shit and disinfectant. Not enough for you to smell it for what it is, but enough for you to know it was there. Like when you check into a roadside motel in the wrong part of town. That smell that tries to tell you that something bad just happened here, and someone tried to clean it up. Tried to clean it up, but didn't care enough to do a good job. Kepler: You think about this kind of thing a lot? Guerra: Not until now. It didn't hit me until now. Because now I can't smell it. The disinfectant part, I mean. The Clorox, the ammonia, the fake lemon smell. None of it. Kepler: Yeah. This place just smells like shit. Kepler checks his watch. Kepler: It was crazy to take this job. Maybe some of this shit already got into my brain. Maybe that's why we’re here. Guerra: It's just a job. Kepler: We shouldn't have been so quick to trust him. He could be dangerous. Guerra: The Foundation is dangerous. Two dozen missions with you and I've never seen you question an order. Don't start growing a conscience now that someone who pays better is signing the check. Kepler pokes his arm out of his garbage bag and looks at the fungus growing on it. Kepler: Maybe that's what this is. A conscience. Guerra takes his clipboard to the reception window. Kepler slouches in his seat, keeping his eyes on the entrance until Guerra returns. Kepler: There's no security. Guerra: Does it matter? It's not like a rent-a-cop is about to hold back the Foundation. Kepler: We could always jump the line. We rush back there, guns out, get this thing taken care of 1-2-3. What can they do, call the cops? The Foundation is already after us, so what difference does the NYPD make? Guerra: You can't pull a gun on a doctor. Kepler: Who says I can't? Guerra: Rules of engagement. Kepler: Is the Foundation a party to the Geneva Conventions? Because unless everyone follows the rules, there are no rules. Guerra: How about because it's morally wrong? Kepler: Is that why we’re here? Is that why we hijacked the truck, grabbed the samples, shot Sellers? Because it was morally right? I didn't realize we were doing this for charity. Guerra: Don't do this. Kepler: Give me one reason. One real reason why pulling a gun on a doctor is such a big deal. Guerra: Because it's bad luck. Kepler: Bad luck? Guerra: That's what they said at the Academy. Kepler: …alright. I mean, if it's bad luck… Guerra: We need to get back to the car soon. Those samples aren't safe in the backseat. Kepler: Forget the samples. The minute that case got busted open they were as good as dead. Guerra: So that's it? We just go to Charlie empty handed? Kepler: You want samples? I'm the sample. Guerra: Just hang tight; we’ll get this stuff out of you. Kepler: If we can cut out a big enough piece to get to Charlie, sure. If not, just get me to him while I'm still warm. He can take what he wants. Guerra: Don't fuck with me like that, man. Kepler: I'm the reason we’re sitting here right now. You did all the work you needed. You risked your ass to lug me over here. Two dozen missions together and I haven't fucked one up this bad until now. The one that pays. So yeah, at the end of this you might as well collect your goddamn payday. Guerra: I should ditch the car. Kepler: We need to get to the warehouse by 3. We'll never make it to Charlie on foot. Guerra: It's a Foundation transport vehicle. If they find it a few blocks over, it's not like it'll be a mystery where we are. I should take it down to the pier, leave the parking brake off, let mother nature do the rest. Kepler: We have to get back to Charlie. Guerra: There's a hundred cars on the street we can grab. Only one is a smoking gun. Kepler takes a deep breath and sighs. Kepler: Torch it. Guerra: That's my man. Won’t take a minute. Don't die before I get back. The following log is transcribed from footage of Examination Room 3F.5 00:40, 25-12-2023 - BEGIN LOG Guerra opens the door and a nurse wheels Kepler into the room in a wheelchair. The nurse helps Kepler onto an exam table, on which he sits but does not lay down. A green curtain is drawn across the other half of the room. Nurse: You can wait here. The doctor will see you shortly. Guerra: How shortly? Nurse: Shortly enough. The nurse takes the wheelchair and exits the room. Kepler cranes his head to see through the window in the door to the room. Kepler: Anyone out there? Guerra: No one I’d be worried about. Kepler: No other exits. They find us here and we’re done for. Guerra: We just need to lay low. We're as safe here as anywhere else. Kepler: You're willing to bet your life on that? Guerra: There's two things you can count on when you see Childs: she doesn't ask questions, and she doesn't give answers. Kepler leans back. Guerra: And this is it. The home stretch. We’ll be out in no time. Kepler: Don't hold your breath. We could be here all night. That's what these rooms are for: to keep the waiting room empty so it doesn't look like the wait is too long. Classic tactic. Same thing they do at Santaland. Guerra: Santaland? Kepler stands and begins rummaging through the cabinets above the sink next to the exam table. Kepler: Disneyland too. Kepler pulls a scalpel from one of the drawers under the sink. Kepler: Help me find a tourniquet, will you? Guerra: You can't be serious. Kepler: If we've got this long a wait, might as well cut this thing out while we have the time. Guerra: You cut into that arm and you could contaminate the rest of your body! It’s practically suicide! Kepler sets down the scalpel. Kepler: I know it's…the waiting. It kills me. If we don't see Childs soon…it's not like Charlie's going to wait forever. Guerra: He doesn't need to wait forever. A couple hours and it's over. Kepler raises his hand and stares at his fungus. Kepler: In more ways than one… You have one (1) new message! Subject: Out of time To: ANTHONY JONES | (ten.171etis.pcs|senoja#ten.171etis.pcs|senoja) From: JANICE SELLERS | (ten.171etis.pcs|srelesj#ten.171etis.pcs|srelesj) Subject: Out of time I'm hearing whispers on my end that Davis is just about ready to torch the whole unit. I've got the only internal file on Childs I could find below, but I'm not sure it's going to do much good at this point. Turns out she kept as little paperwork on herself as she did on her patients. Also got a peek at your body cam footage. Davis has it too, so maybe take a look and don't tell a lie you can't back up. — Jan ATTACHMENT 1: ajonesbcam12-25.scp The below video log has been transcribed from the body camera footage of Agent Augustus Jones. 01:12, 25-12-2023 - BEGIN LOG Agent Jones enters the Saint Erasmus Free Clinic and Trauma Center, followed by two additional armed, masked agents who stand guard at the entrance. Jones follows a trail of blood, which has been smeared across the floor but not fully cleaned, to the reception desk. Jones forcefully knocks on the glass, and holds up an image of former Agents Kepler and Guerra on his phone. Jones: I'm looking for these men. Clerk: Please don't hit the glass. Jones: Have you seen them? Are they patients here? The clerk sighs and rolls her eyes. Clerk: In keeping with federal privacy laws, we can't provide any information about patients, including whether or not they've visited this clinic. Jones: Then let me speak with Dr. Childs. Clerk: Dr. Childs is very busy. If you're law enforcement, you can come back with a warrant. If you're not, please don't come back; you're scaring our patients. One of the masked agents at the entrance moves aside the cinder block that is propping open the door, which slams shut. Jones: I'm not going anywhere until I get some answers. Clerk: Sir, I need you to lower your voice or I'm going to have to call the police. Agent Jones begins to reach for his belt as Dr. Childs emerges from the back of the facility. She brushes the clerk away and leans in towards Agent Jones. Childs: Agent Jones! How many years has it been? Jones: Dr. Childs. Childs: How are the seizures? Jones: Infrequent. Childs: Well that's good. Sometimes infrequent is the most we can ask for. Jones: They say I'll never get back full grip strength on my right side. Childs: Isn’t that how it always goes? Getting older, I mean. It's as though every day you do something for the last time, and you don't even know it's the last time until it's done. But I guess we do what we can. Jones: Haven't been cleared for special operations since 2019. Childs: Then they must be very understaffed these days if they sent you here on such a cold night. Agent Jones holds up the image of Kepler and Guerra. Jones: I didn't come here to dig up old wounds. God knows I could. But not tonight. I just need Kepler and Guerra. Childs: I don't blame you for being angry about how things went last time. I almost get the sense you feel I'm partly responsible. Jones: Some might say you're entirely responsible. Childs: Is that what they told you? Cryptomycology isn't an exact science, dear; sometimes you just have to trust the odds. Jones: Have you seen them? Childs: Oh, come now. Even if they had been here, you know I can't give away that information. The doctor-patient relationship is highly privileged. Jones: It doesn't give you the right to harbor fugitives. Childs: Fugitives? Has the Foundation started issuing arrest warrants? If not, then you can stay in your lane and I'll stay in mine. Jones: I could bring in two dozen agents in thirty minutes who would love to tear this place apart room by room until there's nothing left but dust. Childs: If the Ethics Committee has started permitting armed raids on civilian medical centers, then I’m thankful I got out when I did. Jones: Whether they like it or not, that doesn't mean we won't do it. Childs: Well, then I wish you the best of luck with the tribunal. In the meantime, if you want me to call the police so you can explain to them what you're doing in a mask, with a gun, at 1 AM, in a hospital, I'm more than happy to do so. You're welcome to have a seat while you wait. ATTACHMENT 2: disciplinarytranscriptchildsmercy.scp Minutes from Disciplinary Hearing of Dr. Mercy Childs, Recorded 10-04-2019 Parties in Attendance: Brenda Salinas, Chief Advisor, Department of Health and Safety Dr. Mercy Childs, Head of Surgery, Site-8002 Trauma Center Salinas: Thank you for meeting with me so early in the day, Dr. Childs. Childs: I'm used to it. My work is demanding enough even when I don't have to deal with an inquest so early in the morning. Salinas: This is a hearing, not an inquest. A review of your efforts up to this point at Site-8002, and an evaluation of your continued role within the Foundation. Childs: So pretty much an inquest? Salinas: The only reason we’ve invited you here to begin with is to allow you to speak on your behalf. Most Foundation staff don't get that privilege. Frankly, it doesn’t matter whose cousin you are; you’re going to be held to the same standards as anyone else in your position would be, whether you choose to cooperate or not. If you prefer not to, we don't have to have this meeting. Childs: Forgive me, but I fail to see the need for this meeting. Salinas: Your treatment history would be a good place to start. For 2017 alone, only 75% of patients who fell under your care were still living within a year of receiving treatment. If you factor in permanent debilitating injury, even by the loosest standard, that drops to 60% at best. To put it bluntly, once a Foundation employee reaches your trauma unit, it’s practically a coin toss whether they’ll be able to work again. Childs: Is that meant to be an indictment of my treatment methods? Salinas: It’s just an observation. Childs: I do what I can, but if you send me someone whose heart is turning into jelly and who’s growing a second head out of their lungs, it’s not like I can just put them in a splint, give them an aspirin and send them back to work the next day. Salinas: If you were to prescribe CLERIC treatment in accordance with standard protocols, those numbers would jump up to over 90%. Childs: Does this mean you’re finally ready to share the medical literature on CLERIC treatment with me? Salinas: You know that’s above your clearance level. Childs: So how do you still expect me to prescribe a treatment with nothing to go on but good faith? Salinas: We expect you to value the health and wellbeing of our employees. Just look at some of your recent history. Following the successful completion of OPERATION CANARY you treated a number of members of MTF Zeta-9 who complained of various lingering symptoms. Three months after treatment, only 40 percent of them were still alive and well enough to continue operations. Childs: That is a higher than average survival rate for Zeta-9. Salinas: Not in terms of medical treatment. Childs: We don't know what exactly they were exposed to in those mines. Treatments can't be exact when half a patient’s medical history is redacted. Salinas: That information is– Childs: –beyond my clearance level; I know. Salinas: Last November, following the mass containment breach at Site-17, three members of MTF Tau-7 bled out– Childs: And about a dozen more walked away with their lives intact thanks to the quality of care they received. Salinas: –in the waiting room. They bled out in the waiting room. Childs: I only have two hands. How many requests have I put in for additional staff? Salinas: The resources of the Foundation aren’t limitless. Investments can only be made where they’re likely to produce results. Childs: And if that requires you to treat healthcare like some sort of trolley problem, you’re going to have a lot of blood in the waiting room. Salinas: I would mention the medical records, but I feel like at that point we’d just be wasting time. Childs: My patients’ medical records are just fine. Salinas: RAISA has yet to receive a complete and properly filed report since you first took the position. Childs: Why does RAISA need my patients’ complete medical histories? Salinas: Because the operations of the Foundation don’t begin and end with Site-8002. Information contained in those records may be vital elsewhere. Childs: Then let my patients provide them elsewhere. If they can’t expect privacy from me, then how can I get the information I need from them to prescribe proper treatment? Salinas: Foundation staff don’t have the privilege of keeping secrets. Childs: Just the ones that are above my clearance level, right? Salinas: Sit down, this isn't finished. Childs: It is for me. Salinas: You’ve already been given more leeway than anyone else in your position would have. Think about what you’re doing. Childs: I know what I’m doing. I have patients to see. Salinas: Not if you walk out that door. Childs: Don't be ridiculous. There are patients everywhere. The following log is transcribed from footage of Examination Room 3F.6 01:25, 25-12-2023 - BEGIN LOG Guerra watches the door, the gun in his hand visible under his jacket, while Kepler rests in a paper gown. Dr. Childs enters and retrieves an electronic tablet from a slot on the wall. Childs: Well you're certainly popular today, Agent Kepler. Or is it just Mr. Kepler? Kepler: You can call me Homer Simpson if it makes you happy as long as you can get me out of here in one piece. Dr. Childs reads Kepler’s vital signs and examines his wounds. Childs: Your leg needs to be cleaned out and I can get it stitched up. It won't be anything fancy if you’re on a time crunch, but it should hold until you can get to somewhere more comfortable. You're a lucky man, Mr. Simpson: an inch and a half to the left and you'd have been dead by now. Kepler: That's what they always say. Childs: Pretty much every point in your body is right next to something you wouldn't want to lose. We live and die by inches: you get lucky, or you get rock with your name on it. There's no in between. Guerra: Much appreciated, but we've got a schedule to keep. What about the arm? Childs: We’ll have to get the lab results for your blood samples back to confirm, but based on your time of exposure you should be in the clear for neurological issues as long as we can successfully root out the infection. Kepler: What are our chances? Childs: It won't be pleasant, but we should be able to get it out and save most of the arm while we’re at it. A series of subcutaneous injections of a sufficiently low-pH solution, followed by a topical application to the epidermis should be enough to kill off the last of the fungus. Guerra: Any side effects? Childs: Permanent nerve damage and reduced motor control in your right arm. But you’ll live. Kepler: I guess we can't expect Foundation-level treatment in a dump like this. Childs: The Foundation would cut off your body to save your arm. This may be a dump, but we're not protecting anomalies here; we’re protecting human life. It may be painful, but we’ll do our best to make sure you walk out better than you were when you walked in. Kepler: One more thing: we need a sample. Childs: Of your infection? Kepler: It doesn't have to be big. Just enough of a chunk to survive a few more hours. Childs: You want me to take the time to do a full biopsy before treating you? And while I do, will you be taking care of the patient who’s ODing in the next room. Guerra: There's someone ODing in the next room? Childs: If there isn't now, give it a few minutes and there will be. Time is money, and this is a free clinic. Guerra pulls a roll of cash from under his jacket. Guerra: I'd argue that money is money. Kepler: All we need is to be out of here in an hour with a decent sample in our hands and enough organic matter to keep it alive for a few hours. Dr. Childs takes the roll of cash and counts it. Childs: Getting the sample shouldn't be a problem. What you need is an exit strategy. By my count you've got half a dozen agents here for you in the waiting room, and probably a few dozen more surrounding the block. Guerra: You think you can call a taxi? Childs: I can put you in the back of an ambulance. But an ambulance costs more than a taxi. Guerra sighs and hands Dr. Childs another roll of cash. Childs: Let's stop wasting time. Do you need a sedative? Kepler: Will it make this take longer than it has to? Childs: Most likely. Kepler: I'll take my chances. Childs: Then let's get started. Guerra: And the person ODing in the next room? Childs: Don't worry about it. People OD every day. The following log is transcribed from footage of the Pre-Operative Holding Area B.7 01:47, 25-12-2023 - BEGIN LOG Kepler sits in a paper gown next to Guerra. Kepler: I'm hungry. Guerra: All I've got is a pack of almonds and half a chocolate Santa. Kepler: It doesn't matter, they said I can't eat before the surgery. Guerra: So you're just making conversation? Kepler: Don't mind me. Eat your chocolate Santa. Guerra: Maybe later. Kepler holds his head in his hand. Kepler: Why do we do this? Guerra: For the money? Kepler: Maybe for you, but what about me? Why on God’s green Earth did I wake up this morning and decide to land myself right here, right now, with you, like this? Guerra: Because it's the right thing to do. Kepler: I haven't done the right thing in a long time. I can't even remember the last time I thought about it. Guerra: You can't know if you don't think about it. Kepler: You know. You always know. Guerra: Then if you can't do the right thing, you do the wrong thing for the right reason. Kepler: And that reason is… Guerra: I’d still say the money. Kepler: Of course. It's always the money. Guerra: People have done a lot worse for a lot less. Just focus on getting out of here. If our luck holds out then by tomorrow our biggest problem will be counting the payout. Kepler: Yeah. That's a lot of chocolate Santas. Dr. Childs enters, dressed in operating attire. Childs: You've probably got about 20 minutes before your entire MTF starts trying to break through the glass at the front desk, so we'd better get a move on. Guerra: Is that enough time? Childs: It's pretty thick glass. Kepler: And the exit strategy? Childs: Covered. There's a good chance you'll be getting out of here in one piece tonight. Guerra: And if we don't? Childs: You can always play dead. Dr. Childs leads Kepler into the adjoining operating room. The following log is transcribed from footage of the Pre-Operative Holding Area B.8 02:18, 25-12-2023 - BEGIN LOG Red emergency lights flash on and off in the empty room. The sound of intermittent gunfire is audible from elsewhere in the facility. Dr. Childs enters from Operating Room B, blood still dripping from her coat. An armed man dressed in black fatigues, identified as Mr. Augustus Jones, bursts into the room. Dr. Childs stands in front of the door to Operating Room B. Jones: Move! Childs: This is a restricted area. I need you to leave. Jones: I wasn't asking. Childs: Neither was I. Sirens can be heard from outside, first close, then farther away. Jones: This isn't about you, Childs! Just get out of the way and it’ll all be over. Childs: You know I can't do that. Keeping patients safe is my job. Jones: Changing bandages and cleaning out bedpans in a dump like this doesn't seem like much of a job. Childs: It’s better than bussing tables. Jones: I don't want to pull this trigger, but believe me, if I have to, I will. Childs: I believe you. Jones begins to lower his gun, then raises it again. Jones: You're not giving me much of a choice here. Childs: You always have a choice. The gunfire in the distance becomes fainter. Childs: What are you doing here? It's late. And i know they don't pay you overtime for this. Jones: You know how it works. Childs: I know it doesn't work for long. You can't ignore that feeling forever. You know the one I mean? The one where you wonder if you made a wrong turn somewhere in the past that led you here? The one that makes you wonder if every step is taking you farther from where you should be, but you’re too far gone to turn back? Jones: What if I said I did? Childs: Well I don't. Not anymore. Not here. Jones: These aren't good guys, Childs. They've already killed one agent. If they get out of here, there are going to be more. Childs: One day they'll say the same about you. You want to take them in? Do what you want, but don't do it here. That's not what this place is for. Jones: Give me a reason. Childs: It's bad luck. Jones: Bad luck? Childs: Don't they teach you anything at the Academy these days? After a moment, Jones lowers his gun. Jones: So what now? Childs: We wait. Jones: I can wait all night. But once they're ready to leave, they're still coming with me. Childs: Honey, they went through the back door the moment you came in. Jones: Bullshit. We’d have seen them. Childs: Then why didn't you? Childs steps out of the way as Jones pushes into the empty operating room. Jones: Then all this… Sirens can be heard in the distance, beginning far away and then getting closer. Childs: I told you I called the police. The following log is transcribed from footage of the back of Ambulance 11-C.9 02:25, 25-12-2023 - BEGIN LOG Sirens blare as the ambulance speeds down the street. The patient care area is empty, containing only a zippered body bag laying on the floor. The sirens stop blaring, and the ambulance slows but does not stop. There is a rustling from inside the body bag. A finger pokes out and unzips it from the inside. José Guerra climbs out, followed by Mario Kepler, still dressed in his hospital gown, arm and leg clumsily wrapped in bloody bandages. Guerra pulls a small cooler labeled with a biohazard symbol from the body bag and zips it up again, leaving only a cadaver inside. Kepler: I don't feel good about this. Guerra: You just had surgery. No one feels good after surgery. The ambulance slows to a stop. Kepler: We don't exactly have the high ground here. I can't shoot. I can't run. If things go south… Guerra peers out of the rear window and draws his gun, holding the cooler to his chest. Guerra: Don't choke at the finish. We're already here. As long as Charlie is ready to keep up his end, we're home safe. Kepler: And if he doesn't? Guerra gestures to the body bag. After a moment, the crunch of footsteps in the snow can be heard, getting louder as they approach the ambulance. Guerra opens the door, revealing a tall figure in a long black coat and wide-brimmed hat holding a briefcase. Guerra: Charlie! Looking good as always. The figure does not speak or move. Guerra: You know, we…we risked a lot to get to you here tonight. The figure does not speak or move. Guerra: Just want you to know, we put a lot on the line for you. The figure does not speak or move. Kepler takes the cooler from Guerra, and holds it up in front of him. Kepler: Come on, do you want it or not? The figure steps forward into the light of the ambulance. Under the hat and coat stands a decaying corpse, its bloated flesh covered in spores, pods and mushrooms that pulse with the movement of insects and larvae underneath. The figure takes the cooler and opens it, takes a mass of fungus and tissue from inside, and pushes it through a gash in its sternum into its chest cavity. The flesh of its chest begins to writhe as a lattice of tendrils and fungus emerge, then sew it back closed. Figure: At last…our family is complete again. Kepler: So…complete enough to pay, or what? The figure places the briefcase on the floor of the ambulance. Guerra picks it up, opens it, and begins counting the money inside. Figure: Your service to our family will not be forgotten. Long after you have returned to dust, you will have an eternal place within our heart. The figure recedes into the snow. Kepler: Yeah…Merry Christmas to you too. Guerra closes the door to the back of the ambulance and knocks on the partition. The ambulance begins to drive away. Guerra hands Kepler a chocolate Santa, which he begins to eat. Guerra: This is it. They’ll never catch us. Kepler: They'll catch us by sunrise. Guerra: We can be pretty far by sunrise. How does it feel? Kepler: Bad enough that I'll never do this again. Guerra takes Kepler's hand, feeling his pulse. Guerra: Well, I may not be a doctor, but as far as I can tell you're alive. For now. So make the most of it, will you? Kepler: Yeah. …thank you. Guerra: You can thank me when it's over. Kepler: It's never over. Guerra: Then you can thank me when you're dead. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8075" by TheChunk, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8075. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Footnotes 1. It's not like you'll find what you're looking for. 2. You didn't think it would be that easy, did you? 3. Notice: This documentation is provided exclusively for clinical reference, and is to be reviewed by licensed clinicians only. 4. If you are not a licensed clinician, continuing to read further represents a gross abuse of authority. Please respect our patients' privacy, just as you would like them to respect yours. 5. As privacy is highly valued at the Saint Erasmus Free Clinic and Trauma Center, examination rooms are not fitted with recording devices of any kind. Please disregard the following transcript. 6. Even if the following recording did exist, who would believe you? You stole this footage from a hospital. What kind of person steals from a hospital? How dare you? 7. Would you want some stranger reading through your medical history without your permission? No? Then why not show others the same courtesy? What makes you so special? 8. But you already know this part, don't you? 9. Too late. |
SCP-8076 | euclid | Item#: 8076 Level4 Secondary Class: uncontained Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: caution link to memo Item #: SCP-8076 Special Containment Procedure: Reliquary Site-108 has been established above the entrance to SCP-8076-1. Onsite sensors will monitor for Aspect Radiation and Elan-Vital Energy spikes. All spikes must be reported to security immediately, and an alert will be sent to all nearby sites who then will communicate with onsite staff. If onsite staff do not respond or are unable to recite identification codes and pass a Cognitive Influence Test, an onsite nuclear warhead will be detonated. SCP-8076-2’s current location is unknown. The Foundation is currently searching all available records for individuals matching SCP-8076-2’s description. Any information on SCP-8076-2 is to be suppressed and collected by the Foundation to establish an accurate timeline of SCP-8076-2's history and locate their current whereabouts. Locating efforts and containment attempts are to be led by MTF Beta-777 (Hecate’s Spear). SCP-8076-3 will be held in a modified Class-8 remains locker on site. Description: SCP-8076-1 is the ruins of the city-state Awan in an underground cavern located in southwestern Iran. Awan was an ancient Mesopotamian city-state established around 2700 BCE and vanished from records around 2000 BCE. SCP-8076-1 measures approximately 8 km in diameter, and is located 5 km underground. The architecture of the city appears to match the architecture of early Mesopotamia cities but with the use of advanced materials, techniques, and the integration of complex thaumaturgical systems. The outer wall of SCP-8076-1 contains several thaumaturgical symbols and is theorized to be able to project a protective shield when sufficiently powered. SCP-8076-2 is a female that appears to be in her late twenties with dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and an olive skin tone. SCP-8076-2’s standing height is approximately 1.6 m. SCP-8076-2’s skin is covered in numerous tattoos depicting arcane, occult, and thaumaturgical symbols and sigils from multiple cultures. SCP-8076-2 uses the tattoos to perform thaumaturgy. SCP-8076-2 is a powerful Type Blue and should be confronted with great caution. SCP-8076-2 is confirmed to have a post-human life span. SCP-8076-3 are the remains of a humanoid horned entity of approximately 90 m tall. The remains were identified as that of a rabisu1. Foundation research suggests rabisu are able to absorb energy as a form of sustenance. This instance is several times larger than an average instance. Discovery Log: SCP-8076-1 first came to the Foundation’s attention through Foundation plants in archeological circles discussing newly discovered relics with thaumaturgical symbols2. After confirming the authenticity of the relics, the Foundation retrieved them and discovered they had been found at an ongoing dig. When the Foundation discovered more relics with thaumaturgical symbols, the Foundation moved in to take over the dig. Addendum 8076.1: Partial Timeline of SCP-8076-2 Date Location Notes Approximately 2700 BCE Mesopotamia A tablet uncovered in the Awan library goes in-depth on SCP-8076’s rescue of King Peli when he was a child. The tablet goes on to describe Peli being saved from a monster with traits of a snake, goat, and lion. Approximately 950 BCE Israel Found in the original Lemegeton Clavicula Salomonis3, was a passage of Solomon meeting a mad witch named Awan in the desert. The witch had captured a demon and was attempting to force it to accomplish an impossible task. Solomon sealed the demon and urged the witch to give up on her goal. The witch warns Solomon that such power as his will not grant him happiness and reminds him that all things come to an end. This passage is left out of all modern versions. May 12 560 Constantinople, Turkey SCP-140 tells of a Daeva army invading Constantinople. As their armies fought, Daeva Thaumaturgists were held at bay by a sorceress matching SCP-8076-2 appearance. The sorceress was named only as the Twice Cursed Woman. SCP-140 showcased an apparent hatred that SCP-8076-2 had for the Daeva. 10/13/1648 Connecticut, USA A woman named Olivia Evelyn, whose description matches that of SCP-8076-2, was tried and found guilty of witchcraft. She was said to be hanged; but before her body was to be disposed of, it was said to have vanished. 11/17/1875 New York, USA Photo found of SCP-8076-2 next to Helena Petrovna Blavatsky during the first meeting of the Theosophical Society4. Summer of 1887 London, England SCP-1867 was questioned on its knowledge of the sigils in the city or on SCP-8076-2. SCP-1867 claimed he had known SCP-8076-2 as an intelligent librarian named Emily Eden with an impressive knowledge of history and occult practices. SCP-1867 explained she had helped him on some exploits. During an incident where a relic released a demon, SCP-1867 claimed SCP-8076-2 revealed herself as a magic user to protect a child from the demon and banish it. SCP-1867 claimed to have given her money and told her to leave London. While he himself thought highly of her, some members of the clergy had discovered how she protected the child and were intent on capturing her to try her as a witch. 11/04/1922 Valley of the Kings, Egypt The Foundation found a photo from Howard Carter’s Tutankhamun dig. SCP-8076-2 was seen in the background talking to a digger with Carter being the photo’s main focus. Researchers suggest that SCP-8076-2 was Howard’s Secretary, and notetaker during the dig under the alias of Evelyn Reed. 08/16/1969 Woodstock, USA Foundation AI using facial recognition software discovered SCP-8076-2 in the crowd of many photos of the Woodstock concert, including several album covers of crowd shots. 06/30/2022 Ontario, Canada Dr. William Wettle, returning from visiting his parents, runs into SCP-8076-2, and they both become trapped in a stalled elevator. After 40 minutes Dr Wettle claimed he collapsed. Rescue workers reported that SCP-8076-2 kept repeating, “He wouldn’t shut up!” Dr. Wettle remained unconscious for three days, missing two days of work5 . His claims of anomalous activity were dismissed until AI matched her face to travel records and airport security reports on the incident. 03/08/2024 Reliquary Site-108, Iran See Incident 8076.1 Addendum 8076.2: Interview with Dr. Ava Clarke Date: 02/12/2024 Interviewer: Dr. Lucian Boyd, Lead Researcher for SCP-8076 Interviewed: Dr. Ava Clarke, Head of Initial Dig Site Notes: Dr. Boyd was conducting interviews on what the initial dig crew learned, and their methods to optimize transition. [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Boyd: Please for the record state your name. Dr. Clarke: Very well. I am Doctor Ava Clarke, a researcher for Cambridge University and the lead for this dig, correction, former lead. I think the honor of that title is yours now. Dr. Boyd: Yes, again sorry. From what I’ve seen you've done excellent work. It’s just that my organization has taken over the grant that sponsored your dig, and they have a certain way of doing things. Dr. Clarke: Yes, yes, I remember your explanation. What is your organization? The Sociological Conservation and Protection Agency? Dr. Boyd: Foundation actually. Our objective is to preserve humanity’s collective history so— Dr. Clarke: Yes, you’ve told me before. I think I could almost remember your speech verbatim at this point. Dr. Boyd: Sorry. Dr. Clarke: No, I’m sorry. I’m— I’m just upset, there is no need for me to be rude. It's just that the search for the city of Awan has been my passion for years. Now you are just sweeping in and taking control after I’ve found something crucial. Dr. Boyd: Sorry again, if I was in your shoes I’d be upset too. I still have to ask you some questions. Dr. Clarke: Ask. Dr. Boyd: Those symbols on the relics you found, do you have any idea what they represent? Dr. Clarke: I recognized the Sumerian symbols. I’d have to check my notes to be sure, but I think they were about superstitions. Ancient and powerful forces or magic. Like I said, superstitions. The rest— I could only guess are much of the same, maybe a language I’m not familiar with. Dr. Boyd: I see. I’ve been reading your notes, and I’m unsure about something. Why did you decide to look for the city here? Dr. Clarke: Now it’s my turn to apologize. I don’t keep my notes very organized. I tend to make them more presentable right before I publish. It all depends on water: we are in the middle of a desert, and no city could form without some source of water. We are too far from the nearest river and too far from the gulf. Dr. Boyd: So, you believe there was a river in the area thousands of years ago? One that dried out? Dr. Clarke: No, I’ve already looked up geological records for around when Awan would have been founded. The landscape changes but not in that sense. A year ago a geological survey discovered some evidence of a subterranean river, dried, but it was there around the time. My theory is that it was used as a source of water. Eliminating the areas where previous searches have been excavated, and further narrowing it down to what other surveys have said of the geological landscape. Dr. Boyd: What do you mean? Dr. Clarke: My theory is that some disaster happened. The foundation of the city became unstable for some reason, and it fell through. Maybe an earthquake or excavation of wells to reach the river made the ground too unstable. It’s not known what happened to the city. It was once in the records of other city-states, and then it vanished from all records. Its name must have been tabooed, unwilling to speak of it and risk bringing on the same disaster that befell it. And then sand just covered up any remaining ruins. Dr. Boyd: That seemed a bit of a stretch. Dr. Clarke: I was proven correct. Dr. Boyd: It sounds like you got lucky. Dr. Clarke: I’m not lucky. If I was lucky I wouldn’t need to rule out miles of desert only to have my first lead taken from me. Everything I have was earned from years of work and research. Dr. Boyd: Again I’m- Dr. Clarke: I don’t want an apology. I want a job. Dr. Boyd: A what? Dr. Clarke: This city is my life's work. I don’t care about credit. I’ll sign anything you want. I just want to know if the city has been found. I have five doctorates and three masters. I can read Babylonian, Sumerian, and Assyrian among others as easily as English. Dr. Boyd: Did you just make this a job interview? Dr. Clarke: I am the foremost expert on Awan on the planet. Roughly 95% of all peer-reviewed papers on Awan in the last decade were written by me. The other five percent was by Professor Sinclair, and he’s more interested in praise than accuracy. That man’s ego— Dr. Boyd: Yes, I’ve gone to his lectures. Dr. Clarke: Did he do that thing he does? Start a lecture with, “We archeologists are duty-bound to carry the history of the world on our backs, but we are the only ones who can”? Dr. Boyd: Ha! Don’t repeat it. It doesn’t sound any less pretentious coming from you. Look. We did look up your credentials, and you are impressive, but— Dr. Clarke: Just listen. You and your crew can spend the next decade catching up to me, or you can use my experience and get something done. Your choice. Dr. Boyd: Uh, I’ll consider bringing it up to my superiors. Dr. Clarke: That is all I ask, and maybe a word of support. [END LOG] Addendum 8076.3: Dr. Boyd’s Personal Journal Entry 02/15/2024 Well, that went better than I thought it would. I was hesitant to bring it up, but I couldn’t help thinking about what Clarke had said. She would be an invaluable asset. The idea wouldn’t leave me, so when Site Command called me for an update I brought up her name as the leading authority on this city. I found myself very motivated. I made a very compelling argument for her. And they accepted my request. The Foundation has done a background check and approved her. Though not officially a member of the Foundation, she is effectively given Level Zero access. She is not allowed to know anything about the anomalous, easy enough, as she thinks the symbols are just superstition. I will have to take full responsibility for her and everything she gets access to. In all likelihood, she will never be allowed to step into the city if we do find it. There is a very good chance she will be given amnestics at the end of this dig. Maybe that’s for the best. The Foundation suspects that the city had a large concentration of thaumaturgists. Many of the records of Awan are indeed lost, but the Foundation was able to retrieve some information from the Wanderer's Library that suggests that modern thaumaturgic practices originated in the city. Otherwise, even the Foundation couldn’t dig much up. The Foundation believes that the city will be a treasure trove of thaumaturgic knowledge, and they want to make sure that groups like the Serpent’s Hand or the Chaos Insurgency don’t get their hands on it. God forbid MC&D get to the city. They’ll sell it off piece by piece until everything is lost to hidden collections. I’ll be the first to admit the Foundation is the first to keep things hidden from the world, but at least they don’t break it apart and lose it. How much history has been lost for profit? Just thinking of it makes my head hurt. 02/18/2024 It’s been an eventful day. The Foundation sent over more people and equipment. The technician Richard— I forgot his last name. I really should remember that as the lead— Anyway, Richard is a nice young man, a bit overconfident but very knowledgeable on the tech side of things. He had set up the ground penetrating radar, and Clarke’s theories seem to be correct. We discovered a large underground cavern, and while the image was unclear there do seem to be ruins. Richard had a scanning device to detect Aspect Radiation or Elan-Vital Energy, and seemed confident about the device. He was trying to scan the underground to get us a warning if there were any active thaumaturgic items or spells, but the initial scan found nothing. There was a chance that the ruins were too deep to scan. We’ll have to try again once we get closer to the ruins. Initially, we found nothing, but as Richard started to put the equipment away it went off. Richard claimed something about the readings, some of the highest he’d ever seen. We got security and walked around with some goggles called Veritas something. It resulted in nothing; the equipment seemed to be malfunctioning. Richard lost a fair bit of confidence with that goose chase. I’m not even sure what we were looking for. It’s been a frustrating day. I can only hope that the digging equipment will have fewer issues. Addendum 8076.4:Transcript from Initial Probe Exploration Date:02/24/2024 Notes:Present are Lead Researcher L. Boyd along with Researcher M. Gomez, and Dr. A. Clarke. Technician Richard Tisdale overseeing AVEN6 Audio of their conversation is playing over AVEN’S footage. [BEGIN LOG] Technician Tisdale: And it looks like it’s reaching the bottom. Just give me a minute, I should have it open the gate, then we can start exploring. Dr. Boyd: Be careful, we don’t want to break anything or run over anything. Technician Tisdale: I know some of the tech has been a bit buggy, but my AVEN is top-of-the-line. She can go over anything and everything and still be gentle like a feather. Researcher Gomez: Glad to see that little mishap with the EVE detector didn’t sour your confidence. Dr. Clarke: Is that the best video you can get? It’s a little dark. Technician Tisdale: When we get there we’ll set up lights, but for right now just give me a moment to adjust the camera on the AVEN. That’s the best I can do right now. Dr. Clarke: I would have thought you’d have that set up from the get-go if you’re going underground. Technician Tisdale: It’s a remote-controlled drone with a signal strong enough to work underground and give real-time video relay, but they cheap out on the viewing screen. I’ll clean up the video afterwards, but I should be able to get you some idea of what’s down there. Dr. Boyd: Good, make sure you do. How are the readings? Technician Tisdale: AR and EVE levels are at zilch, Doc. Temperature… is, well, you will want to bundle up. No signs of toxins or gas. Taking samples for fungal and other biohazards now. I’ll have the result by the end of the night. Air pressure seems normal. Researcher Gomez: Good, probably wasn’t airtight, cracks or some side tunnels lead in there. A far-off opening somewhere. At least we don’t have to worry about rapid environmental shock degrading anything there. I’d say explorations are feasible and probably should be on the look for— Dr. Clarke: What’s that? Is that a wall? I think I see something. (AVEN’S camera moves, shining light on a wall where the entranceway is revealed.) Dr. Boyd: I think there is some writing on the walls there. Try to move the light toward it… I can’t make it out. What’s that on top? Researcher Gomez:It looks like a sign, Sumerian cuneiform. Try to get a picture and enhance it. Maybe we can— Dr. Clarke: ‘Welcome to the Country of Awan, welcome and well-met all those who seek knowledge and growth.’ It’s a welcome sign. Researcher Gomez: Oh, so you literally can translate ancient Sumerian off the top of your head. I thought you were exaggerating to get a job. Dr. Clarke: Glad I didn’t disappoint. Researcher Gomez: Are you being cheeky? I’m starting to like you. Dr. Boyd: It’s impressive because there are maybe a hundred or two hundred people on the planet who can do live translation of cuneiform. (AVEN unit keeps moving into the SCP-8076-1 through entry way.) Dr. Boyd: It’s a little hard to make out, but from what I can see the architecture matches— Wait, what’s that on the street? Richard, turn the camera. Technician Tisdale: Right just a sec— oh! (AVEN’s camera turns to reveal a boulder with a skeletal arm and torso visible underneath it.) Technician Tisdale: That’s not a pleasant way to go. Researcher Gomez: I think that’s limestone. Must have fallen on them when the city fell through. Dr. Clarke: Did no one try to move it? Dr. Boyd: I don’t think they had much time. (AVEN’S camera turns to reveal various skeletal remains through the streets. Some of the remains appear to be in various states including panic, and prayer, seemingly attempting to huddle together for safety in nearby buildings. The camera stops and focuses on the remains of two adults holding the remains of a small child.) Dr. Clarke: Oh god… Dr. Boyd: Yeah, that's not a pleasant sight. Researcher Gomez: Must have been a family. At least they were together in the end… for all that's worth. Dr. Clarke: I— I thought— I— they were scared in the end. I don’t know what I expected but— (Dr. Clarke is heard breathing heavily.) Dr. Boyd: Are you okay? Researcher Gomez: Is it a memetic effect? Dr. Boyd: No, I think she’s having some kind of panic attack. Give us a minute, go tell Gravik what’s happening, and if she can come over. She’d know how to handle it better. (Researcher Gomez and Technician Tisdale are heard leaving as Dr. Clarke continues to breathe heavily.) Dr. Boyd: Okay, let me help you into the chair. Just breathe in deeply. Focus on your breathing. You’re okay. (Heavy breathing is heard for several minutes.) Dr. Boyd: You need anything? Dr. Clare: No! No. I— I just need a moment. Dr. Boyd: That’s okay. Just take all the time you need. Dr. Clarke: I feel so stupid. God! I’m shaking. Dr. Boyd: It’s okay, it’s not a pleasant sight— I’m guessing you don’t like seeing dead— Dr. Clarke: No, I’ve seen dead people before. Just— just— brought back some bad memories. Dr. Boyd: Oh, uh… Have you seen dead children— Or is your family? Oh, I shouldn’t be asked— Dr. Clarke: Yes. Dr. Boyd: Oh. Dr. Clarke: It was my sister, my little sister. Dr. Boyd: I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Dr. Clarke: My little sister is dead. She has to be. It took me a long time to come to terms with that. When I was young, my sister ran off to play by herself, and she never came home. We never found her, or what happened to her, or even found a— never found a body. We never got to bury her. I still remember that day. It was warm with a cool breeze from the East. She ran to me asking me to tell her a story; I used to tell her stories all the time. That day I told her I had chores to do, and I’d tell her stories later. She ran off to play somewhere… and that was it. Sometimes I still wonder if I played with her… if things would have gone differently. I guess seeing a dead kid— I can’t help but see her. Dr. Boyd: I’m sorry. I’ve lost more friends than I care to count. It’s always harder when you can’t say goodbye. At least you had the rest of your family. Dr. Clarke: They were a mess before, and after things just got worse. Dr. Boyd: That can’t be true. I don’t always remember my father in the best light, but— Dr. Clarke: My father was a piece of work. Things had to be his way. His first wife left him because of that, but he still insisted we call her mom. Our mom, the woman who gave birth to us and raised us, smiled through it all. I knew she didn’t like it, but I tried to make the best of it. She had such a wonderful smile, until she didn’t. My older brothers got into a fight, one killed the other. He ran or was tossed out. I don’t remember. Just never got to say goodbye to either one. Then there was the disaster, I lost— I lost people. I lost track of the rest of my family. I like to think they were okay, but I never heard from them and they— they are lost. Washed away like so many others. I don’t fear death. I’ve gotten used to it. Dr. Boyd: I’m sorry you had to. Dr. Clarke: I’m sorry to burden you with all this. I— Dr. Boyd: No, I understand. Sometimes you have to let it out. I want you to talk to Gravik. She’s a terrifying woman, but she is also someone that can help out. Also, everyone is obligated to be checked by her for such an incident. Dr. Clarke: Fine. Just promise you won’t say anything about what I said to anyone. Dr. Boyd: Promise, Dr. Clarke. Dr. Clarke: You can just call me Ava. Dr. Boyd: Then call me Lucian. (Dr. Gravik is heard arriving.) Dr. Boyd: Shit! It’s still recording. Dr. Clarke: What? Dr. Boyd is heard fumbling as he attempts to shut off the recording. [END LOG] Addendum 8076.5: Awan Library Records History of Awan Abridged Translation: Dr. Ava Clarke The city of Awan was founded by King Peli, its first ruler. He named the city after a sorceress, Awan Bat Hawwah, who saved his life as a child. Upon finding out the honor, the sorceress sought after the king. To the king's surprise he found her un-aged. She replied that her people had been blessed with long life spans and that her people existed before the Great Flood. Peli saw in her a great wisdom that such a long life gave her and asked her to stay to share that wisdom. She stayed, giving council to generation after generation of kings. While people marveled at her long life, they were awed by her wisdom and power. Her magic was so strong that it allowed a river to spring from beneath the ground to water their farms. Then one day there had been a great battle, and the body of god was left to fester. Awan was called away to help bury it. It was a massive form and would require her talents to cover it. In that time an empire came and conquered the city she swore to protect. When Awan returned she sought the people in the city and together they fought back the empire. As the king sought allies, Awan taught the people. She taught them her magic so that they could protect themselves. Soon the city was filled with magic, and under her teachings the city grew. Miracles and wonders became commonplace as even the children could learn the craft. With her wisdom, the city flourished. Notes: This is a quick summary of the origin legend. I couldn’t find much on facts, but every legend has to have some kernel of truth. There’s a possibility it was based on a real person, their exploits blown up to seem more significant, like how pharaohs were said to have been demigods. I guess that “the magically raising the river” is just an allegory for a city founder who developed a new irrigation system or well system. My guess would be that the other accomplishments were something of similar nature. - Dr. Ava Clarke Life of Awan Bat Hawwah, The Great Teacher Translation: Dr. M. Gomez Notes: Several records were too badly damaged to translate properly, restoration efforts are underway. Born in between two trees nestled in the middle of a great valley, the daughter of Adam and Hawwah took her first breath during early summer. Her parents gave her life, love, and her first home. She was born the fourth child, with her sister Luluwa and her brothers Qayin and Hevel eagerly waiting her birth— [Damaged Section] The war had devastated the home she had known. Still mourning the deaths, they had to move on, leave the crimson horrors behind. Hawwah stayed, attempting to help those who remained and to undo some of the damage. She smiled as her children left, knowing it might be the last time they saw each other. It would be. Set had taken most of the tribe ahead of others. Awan and her sister Luluwa rushed to take their families away, but were not fast enough as the flood waters arrived. [Damaged Section] Awan pulled as many to shore as she could; many were lost. To her horror, her husband Erez died trying to save their youngest daughter, Sarai, who would die in her mother’s arms. She wanted to mourn but had to keep moving to protect the children that survived. She buried them by the shore before having to move on. Awan raised her children alone, and when they grew and had families of their own, she left. She journeyed, following rumors, hoping against hope she could find survivors of the flood. Awan would rescue Peli on her journey. Peli would establish the city of Awan, and Awan herself would come to it, building the great system and teaching those in it her magic. Addendum 8076.6: Dr. Gomez Notes Transcript of Dr. Gomez Audio Recording Notes Date: 03/07/2024 Notes: Recorded while Drs. Boyd and Gomez went over the day’s discoveries. [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Boyd: Okay, so the good news is that Director Moose has gotten back to us about the symbols we found on the city’s outer wall. Dr. Gomez: Do tell. Dr. Boyd: They’re a form of protecting sigils. She believes that when powered, they create a protective shield around the city. Dr. Gomez: That’s neat, it must have drawn power from that system we’ve found. I had something— Ah! Here! Team C found something that I’m calling “the magic stove.” Dr. Boyd: Very scientific. Dr. Gomez: If I could continue— Dr. Boyd: Sorry, go on. Dr. Gomez: As I was saying, this stove was just that, a magical way to heat up food. It seems to rely on a simple ritual to create a small fire. When looking deeper into it, we found it connected to other objects, magical light switches and the like. I’ve had some of the teams looking into it, and there seem to be connections to small rituals and glyphs around the city. Basically, there’s a giant magical power grid running across the city. It seems to be dead, so we can’t test that. Dr. Boyd: I doubt the Foundation will allow any partitioners here to try it. Dr. Gomez: There is one thing the survey team noticed. Dr. Boyd: The dinosaur marks? Dr. Gomez: Dinosaur? Dr. Boyd: That’s how Long described the damage. He kept noticing something resembling claw marks, maybe by a dinosaur. Dr. Gomez: Colorful. Well, we did notice something… These marks are found going in a straight line, right to the center of the city. Dr. Boyd: The King’s Palace? Dr. Gomez: It seems like it. How much do you know about it? Dr. Boyd: Just what the reports have told me. It seems some sort of work was done on it before the fall. People were sealing everything on it, doors and windows. There were no bodies found around it. That door, the sole way in, is just a metal block. Scans have shown some sort of mechanism in it, like a lock without a keyhole. The door itself is composed of some strange mix of metals: iron, beryllium bronze, and silver, amongst others. Also, they found a lot of salt everywhere. Dr. Gomez: So, you do know about it. Well, we were looking for more sigils, but as we got closer to the palace, we stopped finding them. We found evidence that they were removed, sanded down, or broken near the palace. An entire complex system connects every part of the city but the center. Dr. Boyd: Why make a complicated system that connects every part of the city except the center? Why keep it isolated from every other part? Oh god—because it's a cage. Something attacked the city, and it was baited towards the most fortified building in the city and trapped in there. And we’ve gotten orders from above, they want it examined. Dr. Gomez: What? They can’t be serious. Dr. Boyd: One of the tests we ran must have set off an alert. Maybe it was beryllium bronze that stuff keeps popping up around anomalous artifacts. It doesn’t matter. They contacted me this morning and insisted on a full examination. They don’t want us to try opening it, but they want to know what we’re dealing with. Dr. Gomez: If you are right, something that wiped out an anomalous civilization might be inside. Please tell me they don’t want to open it. Or use it for a weapon— Dr. Boyd: No! No. They said nothing about opening it. I wouldn’t be surprised if they wanted to use it against their enemies, but I think they just want to know what they are dealing with. Dr. Gomez: Okay, tomorrow I’ll take my team and run— Dr. Boyd: No, I’ll take the team tomorrow. Dr. Gomez: Did I miss something? I thought it was my job to lead the teams in the city. Dr. Boyd: No, you’ve been doing a great job. Just the discovery of the library and the translations you’ve done have been a huge help. I want to oversee this personally to make sure nothing goes wrong… and if something does, then I can trust you to make sure everyone is safe. Dr. Gomez: God. I miss the days when I could say, “I hope this dig doesn’t unleash an ancient demon,” and just be joking. Fine. Make sure to take the right people. Take Clarke, she’s the fastest translator we’ve got. Gravik gave her the all-clear— Dr. Boyd: I told her no when she asked to join us tomorrow; she’s just a consultant. If I tried to bring her down there, at best I’d get demoted. Dr. Gomez: Wait, she asked? She already knows? I’m only finding out now. Dr. Boyd: I think it was Rick—he was helping fix my scanner when the call came in. He must have told her. Dr. Gomez: I think you mean Richard. Dr. Boyd: Yeah, I keep forgetting his name. Dr. Gomez: He’s got a plain face, easy to forget. I’ve seen them talking, he probably let it slip. Probably liked getting the attention. Dr. Boyd: Okay, that potential information leak aside for now, I’ve put her name as a potential recruit. When she came in, she was adamant and upset about not being allowed in. I figured, maybe I can’t get approval right but maybe she can go into the city in the future. She’d be a great researcher for the Foundation. [END LOG] Addendum 8076.7: Incident 8076.1 Transcript From Dr. Boyd’s Body Camera Date:03/08/2024 [BEGIN LOG] (Dr. Boyd’s hands are seen trying to adjust his body camera.) Dr. Boyd: Goddamn it, did I turn this thing on? How do I turn this thing off? Stupid headache. I can’t get anything to work today. (Officer Fern7 rushes into Dr. Boyd’s quarters.) Officer Fern: Sir, we can’t find the intruder. We should evacuate the site expecting the worst. Dr. Boyd: Intruder? We have an intruder? Why wasn’t I informed? Officer Fern: Sir, you replied to the message that I got too. You requested the higher up to send helicopters to evacuate everyone and bomb the site if needed. Dr. Boyd: I did what?! Officer Fern: It’s on your screen, I can see it from here. (Boyd turns to his computer showing an open message.) Dr. Boyd: It’s off, the screen is blank. Officer Fern: Sir, it’s on— Dr. Boyd: What do you mean— Shit! It just went on! It’s a message about— (Boyd is silent as he reads through the message.) Dr. Boyd: Fuck! It was blank to me just a moment ago. Officer Fern: Thaumaturgy that affects your perception. I saw something like this when I was a field agent. Dr. Boyd: They’ve been playing me. Why would they call for a site bombing? Officer Fern: Probably to force us to evacuate. Dr. Boyd: Get extra guards by the entrance. Officer Fern: Already done. They’re to fire on anyone attempting to enter. You should message— (Officer Fern collapses to the ground, Boyd moves to his side and checks on him.) Dr. Boyd: Come on, wake up! You’re still breathing. Your pulse seems steady. Shit! (Boyd moves outside.) Dr. Boyd: Medic! (Various personal are seen unconscious on the ground, and other personal are trying to wake them or calling for assistance.) Dr. Boyd: Shit! (Dr. Boyd runs towards the entrance for SCP-8076-1. Boyd arrives to find the guards unconscious on the ground.) Dr. Boyd: Of course. (Omitted several minutes of Dr. Boyd traveling down the tunnel and running towards the center of SCP-8076-1. As Dr. Boyd reaches the center, a figure is seen in front of the metal door. Six orbs of light are seen floating above the figure.) Dr. Boyd: Please stop. (Dr. Boyd moves to try and stop the figure, only to collide with an invisible barrier.) SCP-8076-2: I put a barrier up. I helped set up the barrier around the city. You think I wouldn’t do that now? Dr. Boyd: Why are you doing this, Awan? SCP-8076-2: You can just keep calling me Ava. Now, if you are smart, you’ll run. I can’t guarantee your safety. Dr. Boyd: Do you really care? It seems you’ve been playing with my mind, probably everyone here. You’re the cause of the headaches, aren’t you? SCP-8076-2: Yes. Don’t say it like I opened up your skull. I manipulated your perceptions. Made you unable to hear or see warnings from your machines when you detected my magic. I nudged you a bit, making you more willing to listen to my arguments. And as we saw yesterday it’s not foolproof. I can suggest things, but you can always refuse them. I still have to give you a good enough reason. Dr. Boyd: What about my memory? My computer was on and logged in, I have to do that, there are passwords and retinal scans. SCP-8076-2: I might have waited for you to turn on your computer, and just let your mind wander while I saw your files. At most you lost a few minutes of memory, you didn’t even seem to notice. Maybe erase a few minutes of your recent memory. I’m sorry about the headaches, restless sleep, and slight memory lapses.Those are some side effects. Sorry I had to do it often, I had to regularly check on your files to see what you were keeping from me. Dr. Boyd: So, what are you, a member of the Serpent’s Hand? SCP-8076-2: No! Those self-righteous nitwits. The time of magic has passed. If they try to force their ideals onto the world, it will just lead to conflicts and death. I don’t agree with everything you guys do, but I understand it. Still leagues better than the UN guys. Dr. Boyd: You knew about the Foundation? SCP-8076-2: You guys have a reputation around certain circles. Nice trick with the initials by the way, the memetic qualities might have worked on me if I hadn’t trained against such things. Dr. Boyd: Did you bait us? Made sure we found your paper? SCP-8076-2: No, I just have to publish to keep getting grants for the dig. I was genuinely surprised when you showed up. You almost kicked me out of my dig, so I decided to use you for my benefit since I was so close. That’s when I started giving you suggestions. (SCP-8076-2 rolls up her sleeves and taps on her wrist. The air shimmers around her as several complex tattoos appear on her skin.) SCP-8076-2: It helps to have the proper sigils on hand. I just need to power them and a ready-to-use effect occurs. (A tattoo on SCP-8076-2’s wrist glows, another orb manifests above SCP-8076-2) Dr. Boyd: No wonder why Richard’s tech went off. You’re a walking sigil system, just like the city. SCP-8076-2: I’ve had centuries to fine-tune things, grow my stamina. Still have some trouble hiding anything powered. Dr. Boyd: I noticed. I put your name in consideration to hire you, to let you into the city. They did a much more thorough background, and while your records were legit, there were no records of family. Then running your face, we found your picture across the years. I think I saw a picture of you with Howard Carter. SCP-8076-2: I was his assistant during the dig in the Valley of the Kings. Best job I could get in the field at the time, gave me a chance to look for records of the city. Dr. Boyd: Well, you found it. Now what? If what I think is in there— (SCP-8076-2 turns her back to Dr. Boyd and raises her hand. Bright white light illuminates her hands. Several of SCP-8076-2’s tattoos begin to glow as she moves.) SCP-8076-2: If you aren’t going to run, I’ll do your interview. Maybe then you’ll understand. Dr. Boyd: Then what happened here? SCP-8076-2: A rabisu. It’s a type of vampiric spirit. It feeds off people's life, off energy, off magic. It came across our city and tapped into the system under the city that I used to tap into a ley line. That power was meant to be used in all the magic systems in the city to help people cast magic. But that thing snuck in and started to gorge itself. It grew, and by the time we found it and forced it out of the city, it was too late. It could draw a person’s life if they got too close to it. We erected the barrier, but it even started to weaken that too, feeding off it. It would break given time. Dr. Boyd: That’s what’s in there? A creature that can kill people by being near them? How did you even get it in there? SCP-8076-2: I fought it. My life span was longer than others. I had greater resistance to its presence. It wasn’t enough. They used the system to channel one spell, to reinforce my life force. The entire city provided their energy, their lives to protect me so that I could fight it, so I could draw it to our trap. It fought me with every step. I fought it here… I thought I was going to die, but I forced it through and closed the door with what I thought was my last breath. What should have been my last breath. (The metallic door begins to shift, clanging sounds are heard coming from it.) SCP-8076-2: The lock is being undone now, you should leave. Dr. Boyd: Why are you doing this? SCP-8076-2: You wouldn’t understand. Dr. Boyd: Then help me understand! SCP-8076-2: Why do you think the city is in the ground? Dr. Boyd: Our theory is the foundation was eroded, causing an instability. SCP-8076-2: When the city was founded, they found limited water. When I showed up, I pulled more water. Over the years it formed the cavern we are in. It eroded the ground beneath us. It caused instabilities. I countered them. The system you found not only helped spread power across the city, it also helped stabilize the city. No matter how bad the foundation got it would keep it afloat. Dr. Boyd: I still don’t understand. SCP-8076-2: IT’S MY FAULT! Dr. Boyd: What? SCP-8076-2: It was my plan to get the rabisu into this building. It was my plan to seal it. I never considered it could have drained the power of the system. As the fight went on, the system tried to draw more power, and it caused instabilities. People kept pouring more power into me to keep me alive… No one focused on anything… It didn’t work properly. It was too much. It weakened everyone… It slowed my aging to a crawl even for my people. It damaged the system until it ran out of power, and it couldn’t keep the city stable. Dr Boyd: It fell through… SCP-8076-2: I sealed the door, and it started to… I tried to hold it up… I tried… everything I could, I swear! The fight took too much from me… When everything started to fall …. the ground fell beneath my feet… I tried to pull, but it ended up hurling up… I heard them scream… Sand, dirt, and rocks were burying me… I felt like I was going to die… I should have… I crawled up enough not to drown and collapsed… A passing caravan found me unconscious and took me to get help. I woke up months later, confused… I didn’t remember anything… and when I did, I couldn’t find the city. I spent centuries looking for it. Changes in landscape, conflict, and more didn’t help. Dr. Boyd: Why did you come back? SCP-8076-2: I need to kill it. It wasn’t how it intended to kill everyone, but it did. In their weakened state none of them could survive the fall. It sat behind in its cage, safe and laughing as everyone died. I NEED to kill it. I failed to protect everyone, after everyone gave me their lives. Every day I got to live should have been theirs. I can’t bring them back. Nothing I do can ever undo it. Nothing I do can ever fix my mistake. The least I can do is get them justice. To kill their killer. Dr. Boyd: The dead don’t want justice. They want peace. That’s what everyone wants. You’ve lost so much, and this city helped you get some of it back. A new home, a new people, and you lost it too. Even after so long you can’t let go, even if it kills you. Can you kill it? You had trouble fighting with an entire city helping you, and now you’re alone. SCP-8076-2: I will kill it or I will die trying. That’s why I gave your Foundation the order to bomb this place. If I fail, let this be my grave. Let it be its grave. Dr. Boyd: Do you want to die? SCP-8076-2: I know of your Foundation. I don’t know if I would say it’s good, but it might be necessary. I think you and yours are trying to do the greater good. The ones I’ve met here seem like good people who are trying their best. At first I was fine letting you die, collateral damage. Then I got to know you. You helped me when I had an attack. I don’t think you need to die with me. This is my fight, and I shouldn’t get others killed for its sake. I don’t want to get others killed again. (A loud clank is heard, the metallic door begins to shift. SCP-8076-2 turns to Dr. Boyd with tears in her eyes.) SCP-8076-2: Goodbye, Lucian. Truly it has been a pleasure to work with you and your people. Now run while you can. I left half your people awake so they could carry away the other half. I don’t think I can protect you from what awaits me. (The door moves enough to let a person walk in. Video distorts as violet energy pools in SCP-XXXX-2’s hands. SCP-8076-2 turns around and walks in.) Dr. Boyd: Ava! Ava! (Dr. Boyd beats against the invisible barrier trying to get through it.) Dr. Boyd: Ava! I don’t know if you can hear me but— The dead don’t want revenge, but they would want you to live! Your family! The city! Do you really think they’d want you to die?! To live for this goal! To die like this! We found tablets on you! You lost your brothers, your sister! Your mother! Your own daughter— Then this city! I can’t imagine that sort of loss! I can imagine you want it to end! But not like this! (The air shimmers as Dr. Boyd finds himself passing through. He walks slowly towards the entrance.) Dr. Boyd: Ava? (SCP-8076-2 is found motionless on her knees.) Dr. Boyd: Ava, are- SCP-8076-2: I’m alive. (SCP-8076-2 points to the other side of the room. As Dr. Boyd turns SCP-8076-3 become visible.) SCP-8076-2: It’s dead. It must have died years ago. This room is cut off from everything, and it just starved. I… Dr. Boyd: Ava… I’m sorry. SCP-8076-2: Just do your job. Put me in a box. I won’t fight it. There’s— there’s nothing left for me here or anywhere. I’ve lifted my spells, your people should start waking up. Just do me a favor, please make sure your Foundation preserves the city and inter the dead. I don’t care if the world forgets this city, just that someone besides me remembers. Dr. Boyd: I don’t think that will be a problem. Ava, this doesn’t have to be the end. If you cooperate, we— SCP-8076-2: Please, I don’t feel like talking. Dr. Boyd: Wait, is that spray paint? On the back of the door. SCP-8076-2: No one has been here in thousands of years, a long time before spray paint was— What? (Dr. Boyd takes out a flashlight to illuminate door.) SCP-8076-2: What? That’s English. That’s a message for me— She’s alive. I don’t know how— Dr. Boyd: Who? SCP-8076-2: Sorry, I don’t think I can be captured today. (SCP-8076-2 raises her hand engulfed with white light towards Dr. Boyd. Body camera recording terminates.) [END LOG] Notes: MTF agents arrived and discovered Dr. Boyd unconscious on the floor. Examinations show that he is in good health and once cleared will return to work with SCP-8076. Addendum 8076.8: The Message + Access File: Message Found in SCP-8076-1 Close File During Incident 8076.1, Doctor Lucian Boyd discovered a message written on the back of the door of a sealed room moments after the room had been unsealed. The message was written in modern English and follows: Don’t lose hope. We will find each other soon, sister. You’ve waited this long. Wait a bit longer, and we will find each other. Please have another story to tell me the next time we meet. Love you now and for all time. Azura Initial tests confirm that it was written in purple Krylon spray paint approximately three years before its discovery. Research on the messenger’s identity is ongoing. Footnotes 1. Rabisu are a Class V corporeal Humanoid entity. See Foundation Anomalous Organism Codex for more details. 2. Symbols included early Sumerian thaumaturgical glyphs, High Enochian sigils, and Sacred Hratak of Azt kinetoglyphs. 3. Known as the Lesser Keys of Solomon in modern-day editions. 4. An organization founded to study occultism. Many members are or were POI. 5. Wettle had two days of sick time used for his absence; they will be returned in light of this new information. 6. Autonomous Vehicle for Exploration and Navigation. 7. At the time Head of Security. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8076" by IvanNavi, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8076. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. |
SCP-8078 | euclid | ADULT CONTENT This article contains adult content that may not be suitable for all readers. Graphic depiction of blood, gore or mutilation of body parts Features sexual themes or language, but does not depict sexual acts. Explicit depiction of sexual acts. Features non-consensual sexual acts. Depiction of severe mistreatment of children Depiction of self-harm Depiction of suicide Depiction of torture {$custom-content} If you are above the age of 18+ and wish to read such content, then you may click Continue to view said content. Continue Back to Front Page Item #: SCP-8078 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8078 is to be kept at Site 83 in a standard containment cell equipped with airtight seals; the only furniture required is the ceramic bathtub in which it rests. Personnel are not to make any requests of SCP-8078 beyond official matters. Interviewers and researchers are strongly cautioned not to make use of jokes, sarcasm, or any potentially ambiguous statements in its presence. Any attempts by SCP-8078 to offer aid in any non-official capacity are to be politely refused. All personnel are to be reminded that though SCP-8078 cannot easily detect lies, it is not incapable of lying in order to appease its masters, especially if it feels threatened or coerced. Personnel are therefore strongly discouraged from attempting to impose any subjective beliefs they may have concerning 8078's identity or behavior on it, as 8078 will readily agree with them if it feels pressured to do so. Staff members suspected of any inclination to use SCP-8078 for personal reasons or recreational purposes are to be shown video file MPT-101 as a first and final warning, with any actual offenders to be punished with reassignment or demotion, depending on the severity of the offence. Description: In its default state, SCP-8078 is a 200-litre mass of viscous black fluid, similar to molten tar in consistency and striated with luminous metallic gold veins. SCP-8078 commonly shapes this matter into an abstract humanoid figure when it wishes to communicate. SCP-8078 is polymorphic in nature and can perfectly replicate human beings, animals, objects, and other liquids after sufficient observation. However, SCP-8078 reports that becoming smaller than five millimetres or taller than three metres in height is extremely painful, and testing has determined that it cannot mimic gasses or combustible substances. SCP-8078 is difficult to permanently damage, as its body reforms as soon as it is disrupted. Extreme heat temporarily disables its regenerative properties, making fire the most viable form of deterrence in the event of critical miscommunications. SCP-8078 is sapient, but intellectually limited. It has demonstrated a general intelligence roughly comparable to a child, most prominently in its inability to comprehend the notion of permanent harm or death, as it cannot understand why deceased test subjects have stopped moving and are never seen again after being removed from its presence. It also interprets any information it receives literally, and therefore cannot process sarcasm, humour, irony, satire, innuendo, or obvious lies, and can only recognize fiction with prior coaching. In addition to its dysfunctional initiative, SCP-8078 also exhibits compulsive obedience: whenever provided with an order, it will obey without question. Combined with its literal-mindedness, this has resulted in numerous attempts to accommodate any desire voiced in its presence, no matter how vague. Psychological analysis suggests that SCP-8078 was subjected to extensive psychological conditioning during its earliest stages of development, indicating that its obedience is not an intrinsic trait, but was instead deliberately engineered in order to ensure it would remain cooperative with its previous keepers. Discovery Log: SCP-8078 was first discovered on 01/10/2022 at Site 83, following a month-long period of unexplained thefts and gifts in the administrative offices, presumably its attempts to accommodate the conflicting desires of the staff. As a result of its polymorphic traits, it was not revealed to Foundation staff until a frustrated secretary loudly demanded that whoever stole her stapler “stand up and confess to it.” Capture and containment followed immediately thereafter, which SCP-8078 made no attempt to resist. SCP-8078 claims to not remember anything prior to gaining full consciousness at Site 83. As no signs of gestation were found in the facility and no perimeter breaches were reported, it is currently unknown how SCP-8078 gained access to the facility, though it is theorized that it was either unwittingly brought to the Site by a staff member before it achieved consciousness or was created there in secret. Interviewed: SCP-8078 Interviewer: Dr Lina Raznakovic Foreword: This was the first interview of SCP-8078 once it was properly contained. Though it had already been interrogated after capture, it was hoped that additional questioning could uncover any information it had not previously included, but SCP-8078's compulsive need to appease its keepers by any means (including lying) prompted an end to further interviews. <Begin Log, 01:00 PM, 01/02/23)> Dr Raznakovic: Good afternoon, 8078. How are you? SCP-8078: I’m fine, Dr Raznakovic. I’ve been learning a lot today and making myself extra helpful. Security Officer Lin has been teaching me about clothes. Dr Raznakovic: (pause) How so? SCP-8078: I used to think that people just had fur and scales like other animals, but then I saw Security Officer Lin take off his jacket this morning. I was so scared – I thought he’d hurt himself! But he showed me he was okay, and it’s not really fur or scales. So now I’m learning how to make real clothing when I make myself into people. This is my scarf. Do you like it? Dr Raznakovic: Where did you copy that from? SCP-8078: I saw Research Assistant Pelion wearing it a little while ago. Dr Raznakovic: Remind me to have a word with him about uniform regulations: he’s not supposed to wear that in the lab. SCP-8078: You’re to have a word with Research Assistant Pelion about unif- Dr Raznakovic: Not now, 8078, later. SCP-8078: Sorry. Um, is there anything else I can do for you? Dr Raznakovic: I have a few official questions for concerning your personal knowledge. First, what are you? How do you see yourself? SCP-8078: Well, I learned how to make a mirror from my arm last week, so I guess I can just loo- Dr Raznakovic: (sighs) What do you think you are? What do you believe yourself to be compared to human beings? SCP-8078: I’m not sure, ma’am. I’m whatever anyone needs me to be, though. Dr Raznakovic: Do you recall how you arrived in Site 83‘s offices? SCP-8078: No. I think I woke up in one of the air vents, so I might have gotten in that way, but I don't remember anything before that. Dr Raznakovic: Very well, then. Onto the next question: do you know how you shapeshift? SCP-8078: Yes, Dr Raznakovic, like this. (audibly transforms, producing sounds of flowing water) Dr Raznakovic: No, no, I mean… (under breath) Who the hell wrote these? (aloud) How does your shapeshifting ability actually work? do you understand how you spontaneously generate and subtract mass - if that's what you actually do? Or are you drawing it in from another dimension? SCP-8078: Don't you already know? You change every time you move, so you must be shapeshifting too. Dr Raznakovic: (confused) …8078, I don't shapeshift. SCP-8078: Then how do you walk? Your legs don't stay exactly the same shape when they move, so they have to change so they can move. Isn't that how that works? Dr Raznakovic: …well, yes - technically. Muscles do have to change shape in order to move, but not in the same way that you change. SCP-8078: Oh. Is there anything else you'd like to ask me? Dr Raznakovic: (audibly leafing through papers) Nothing for now, thank you. I think it might be for the best if we postpone this interview while I edit these questions for clearer syntax… <End Log> > Early Disciplinary Issues: 15/02/23 - 02/03/23 - Close Incident Report (15/02/23): During an interaction test with a D-Class, D-8809322 became argumentative and mockingly ordered SCP-8078 to “show us your tits.” SCP-8078 appeared confused by this “request,” but shaped itself into a flock of small birds from the Paridae family.1 Research Assistant Pelion, having asked D-8809322 to be quiet for several minutes to no avail, was heard to ask, "is there anything that can shut you up for a minute?" SCP-8078 answered in the affirmative, whereupon Research Assistant Pelion sarcastically encouraged it to show him how. SCP-8078 then sprouted a gland that launched an adhesive gel at D-8809322’s face, leaving his lips effectively sealed shut until the gel dissolved exactly one minute later. D-8809322 was shaken but unharmed. Research Assistant Pelion was reprimanded for carelessness. Michael Pelion's Diary (15/02/23)2 Losing composure too easily. Don't mean to say these things, but I do - still too soon after the containment breach to bottle it up. Need to keep writing. Incident Report (20/02/23): In a test of its ability to memorize new shapes, SCP-8078 was ordered to mimic a Foundation staff member who wasn’t currently present at the Site and opted to become Research Assistant Pelion (on sick leave at the time). SCP-8078’s mimicry, dated Friday of the previous week, was pale, unshaven, appeared to have been crying, smelled strongly of vomit, and walked unsteadily. Michael Pelion's Diary (20/02/23) So stupid of me. Waited until midnight, picked a blind spot in the cell to self-medicate, didn't even notice that 8078 wasn't asleep yet. Now everyone's all over me like fucking shingles. Just like the day after my divorce, only worse. Need to keep writing.3 Incident Report (01/03/23): During a test of SCP-8078’s polymorphic traits, Dr Raznakovic provided a loaded 9mm handgun and instructed 8078 to mimic its shape. 8078 obeyed, replicating the firearm so accurately that Dr Raznakovic was able to disassemble and reassemble it4 Following the test, Pelion began discussing alternate methods of firearm testing they could try, concluding by jokingly suggesting "The Cobain"; he then mimed committing suicide by gunshot, unaware that SCP-8078 was still awaiting orders. SCP-8078 then attempted to assist with testing by reverting to its default humanoid form and shooting itself in the head with the sample handgun. SCP-8078 was left in considerable pain, and a large quantity of its biomass soiled the wall behind it, though no lasting harm was inflicted. Research Assistant Pelion was reprimanded for carelessness. In light of recent behavioural incidents, the Site Psychiatrist recommended that Pelion undergo a full psychiatric evaluation and possibly be placed on unpaid leave. However, Dr Raznakovic cited the need to maintain a full staff complement for the following three to four weeks of experimentation, and this was reduced to mandatory counselling for the next month. Michael Pelion's Diary (01/03/23) I'm fine. I'm still writing in this diary, so I'm fine. I'm fine. I don't need any help. Even if I did, nobody cares enough to listen. This job isn't meant to be about me. Just need to get through the day, then I can go home and watch Dogville. At least Dogville has a happy ending. I'm fine. AUDIO LOG TRANSCRIPT DATE: 11:13 PM 02/03/23 NOTE: While Research Assistant Pelion was checking the instrumentation in SCP-8078's cell just before leaving the building, Site 83 suffered a minor containment breach, resulting in SCP-████ damaging the Site generator and causing site-wide power failure.5 Consequently, CCTV cameras and audio receivers were disabled for the duration of the incident, though backup recording devices in SCP-8078’s cell remained online. However, it was claimed that the backup audio file suffered data corruption during the incident, and it was not until 10/10/23 that an intact copy was uncovered. [BEGIN LOG] Pelion: (static) -for a minute? I’m trying to concentrate o- Loud rumbling sound; comparative analysis confirms that lights across the site have gone offline. Pelion: Jesus! SCP-8078: Are you alright, Research Assistant Pelion? Pelion: I’m alright. I… I’m okay. (coughs) Just hold on a sec. (pause) There we go, we’ve got emergency lighting online at least. Door’s still not opening, though. Not a good sign. We’re sealed in, so that must mean the emergency overrides are in place, which means- Muffled explosions, followed by distant roars and screams. Pelion: Oh God. Oh no, oh god, oh shit, it’s happening again. Another breach. SCP-8078: Can I help? Pelion: (taking very deep breaths) I really, really doubt that, 8078. I mean, unless you can force open a reinforced security door with your bare hands or claws or tentacles or whatever else you can manage. SCP-8078: I’m not sure, but I’d be more than happy to try if you’d like me to. (pause) Are you sure you’re alright, sir? If you need something to help you calm down, Dr Raznakovic says my vocal reproduction of the Goldberg Variations is almost perfect- Pelion: (almost screaming) I’m fine! (quieter) I mean, I’m fine, 8078. Besides, (laughs mirthlessly) it’s not as if you could do much to help while we’re trapped in here. Sounds of tearing metal and shattering glass can be heard outside. Pelion: (gasps for breath) Or if we’re being honest, while I’m trapped in here and everything anomalous in this site is roaming free. Muffled sounds of gunfire can be heard nearby. Pelion: (increasing pace) But who cares? All we can do is clean up the mess when it’s over, and then go right back to keeping our little collections locked away and not doing anything with them except waiting for them to break out and kill us again! (voice cracking) Yeah, that sounds totally reasonable! SCP-8078: Sir? Pelion: (through gritted teeth) Just leave me alone. SCP-8078: …I’m sorry, sir, the door hasn’t opened yet and there’s nowhere else I can go. If you like, I can make myself as small as I can, and you can pretend that I’m not here. (pause) Is there anything else I can do for you? Pelion: (almost hyperventilating) 8078, please, stop helping. SCP-8078: I… I don’t know if I can. Pelion: (hysterically laughing, possibly crying) Yeah, because it’s never your fault, is it? It-it-it’s never you who has to pay the price when someone gets hurt: you get nice cozy cells with all the free food and entertainment you can ask for, and you get doe-eyed idiots like us to fawn over you and die in agony the moment you get bored with us, and nothing ever changes! SCP-8078: Sir, I’m not sure I understand what- Pelion: This is my second containment breach this year! Do you know what those things did last time? Do you know how many of my friends died?! And Christ, it’s never going to fucking change! All the items, all the creatures, all the things – we’re never gonna get anything out of them! We’re not their jailers, we’re slaves to them – to you! Silence. Pelion: Well?! Say something! You were full of questions a minute ago, so say something! Say something! FUCKING – SAY – SOMETHING! Sounds of Pelion repeatedly striking SCP-8078, followed by the sounds of liquid splashing across the cell floor. Pelion: (gasping for breath) Oh God… oh shit. God damn it… I-I shouldn’t have done that… SCP-8078: (groans in pain as it reforms) Is… is there anything else I can do for you? (pause) Do you want to hit me again, sir? Twenty-second pause. Pelion: (astonished) I… I can hit you again if I want to? SCP-8078: Of course, sir. Pelion: You mean I have your consent – your full, knowing consent? SCP-8078: Whatever you want, sir. Pelion takes a deep breath, then continues attacking. Over the course of this assault, Pelion can be heard emitting harsh, gasping vocalizations; it is not clear if he is laughing or sobbing. Thirty seconds later, the beating stops. Pelion: (panting) I’m sorry. I… I… I’m sorry. I'm sorry. I… I wasn't genuinely trying to hurt you, okay? I just… I just needed to vent for a minute. You understand, right? SCP-8078: (pained) Yes, sir. Pelion: Good, good. I… I didn't mean anything by what I said, either. I don't hate you. I don't hate anyone, not really. I was just upset. I was just… just… A faint humming can be heard, indicating that main power is being restored. Pelion: (speaking quickly) 8078, listen carefully. What we did tonight - it was just a game. If anyone asks what happened, it was all just a game. Got it? SCP-8078: Of course, sir. Fifteen seconds later, main power is restored, deactivating the emergency surveillance backup. [END LOG] Michael Pelion's Diary (02/03/23) Lost it again. Feeling guilty, but not for breaking the rules. Something about 8078’s eagerness to please makes me want to set things right somehow… but there’s also something about it that makes me think of new possibilities. What if all this time, I’ve had the greatest prize in the Foundation’s history under my nose and never noticed until today? - Close > Pelion-Raznakovic Agreement: 02/03/23-08/03/23 - Close AUDIO LOG TRANSCRIPT DATE: 5:00 PM, 02/03/23 NOTE: The following recording was one of a series of files found in Research Assistant Pelion's safe. Based on the content of the interview, it can be inferred that Pelion knew that his assault had been discovered and was trying to blackmail Dr Raznakovic via a recording device concealed in his clothes. [BEGIN LOG] Raznakovic: There had better be a good explanation for what happened last night. Pelion: Excuse me? Raznakovic: Allow me to rephrase that: give me one good reason why I shouldn’t forward the backup audio from SCP-8078’s cell to the Site Director. Five-second pause. Raznakovic: Well? Pelion: If you’ve actually heard the recording, you’d know I was under a lot of stress that night – and there was a containment breach going on outside, in case you forgot. Raznakovic: In case you forgot, we’re supposed to be researching these things, not using them as pinatas! Besides, you weren't in any immediate danger, so- Pelion: For Christ’s sake, I didn’t know if I was going to live through the night! I was just barely hanging on to my sanity – and yeah, it was a bit Two Minute’s Hate, but it was literally all I had to keep me from losing my mind. Raznakovic: Not remotely an excuse, Michael. You know what I do to maintain sanity when I'm not in immediate danger? I meditate. I listen to Bach. I write in my diary. Pelion: Oh, so you went to the same therapist as me? Raznakovic: This is not the time to get cute, Michael. Why shouldn’t this recording go straight to the Disciplinary Committee? Pelion: Because I’ve seen your notes – long enough to take photos, at any rate. If you send the recording to them, I’ll send them proof of your experiments. Fifteen-second pause. Raznakovic: How long have you known? Pelion: Ever since I saw you swabbing down the wall after 8078's Cobain incident. You were collecting samples for cell replication testing, am I right? You’re running your own off-the-books experiments on 8078, and something tells me the O5s wouldn’t approve. Raznakovic: For baseline cellular tests under strict lab controls? I’m just advancing our timetable by a few months, dodging an arbitrary waiting period; at worst, I’d get away with a slap on the wrist. You’d be fired for what you’ve done. Pelion: That “slap on the wrist” could do a lot of damage to your career, Lina. Oh, and while we’re on the subject, why didn’t you go straight to the committee if you’re such a stickler for the rules? Raznakovic: Because I thought you deserved a chance to prove to me that I hadn’t made a mistake by sticking my neck out for you! I was listening when you said you couldn’t afford the unpaid leave. But apparently, that wasn’t enough for you, was it? Pause. Pelion: (hesitant) Look… maybe this doesn’t have to be unpleasant. Maybe we could help each other out, get something good out of this. Raznakovic: Explain. Pelion: You were conducting a few tests ahead of schedule, and I was… well, you know. But what if we’ve been settling for less? What if we could aim higher? We’ve got a test subject that follows all orders, won’t get violent unless we say so, and will lie for us without even knowing it’s lying. So why should we let arbitrary regulations hold us back? Why aren’t we learning to put 8078 to good use? Raznakovic: And what makes you think I’d be interested in that? Pelion: Because that’s exactly why you’re conducting these secret tests. I’ve seen your research proposal: you want to see if 8078 can be used in Foundation security, but the pen-pushers are holding up the combat testing with paperwork and waiting periods, am I right? Raznakovic: It’s standard procedure, Michael, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. They aren’t going to take unnecessary risks wi- Pelion: And that’s the problem! 8078 isn’t a threat to anyone unless we give the order, and we’re still being tied up in red tape. This could be the biggest win we’ve seen in decades, but the bean-counters aren’t going to let it work without years and years of bureaucratic horseshit! What if you could cut that short? Five-second pause. Pelion: Think about it. All we need is a good excuse for keeping the security cameras off, some test subjects who won’t spill our secrets, and we’re all set for our own experiments. This way, we’ll know for sure if SCP-8078 can be put to good use, and if it doesn’t work out, nobody else needs to know. Raznakovic And if it does work out, how are we supposed to prove it without revealing that we’ve broken the rules? Pelion: (takes a deep breath) We trigger a containment breach. Raznakovic: We what?! Pelion: Hear me out! We trigger a breach – a minor one, or maybe some rioting D-class personnel – and then we send 8078 in to save the day. We won’t need documented proof of our experiments: it’ll prove itself in the field, and we’ll both end up looking like heroes. You might even earn the pay rise you’ve been angling for. Raznakovic: Even if your offer is genuine – that’s not an admission of interest – I don’t trust your motives. Pelion: Why not? Raznakovic: Because you haven’t told me what those motives are. More importantly, you still haven't explained how you’ve pivoted from beating 8078 senseless to putting it to use for the good of the Foundation. Pause. Raznakovic: This wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment idea, was it? You’ve been planning this for a while. Pelion: …That night in 8078’s cell was the point where the penny twigged, but I think I’ve been building up to it for most of my career. Raznakovic: And why is that? Pelion: Because I’ve never once felt like I was changing anything for the better. We’re supposed to be preserving humanity, learning how the monsters tick, making the world a better place… but we always settle for less. The research almost never pays off, the world is always fucked, and by now we’re all resigned to suffering, so we carry on locking things away in the hope they don’t break out and kill us all. Raznakovic: Hardly an objective point of view. We have a great many nonlethal items and entities in storage, Michael; we even employ a few of them. Pelion: (scoffs) Sure, every once in a blue moon, we get something halfway useful that doesn’t end up turning on us, but even then, it barely seems to make a difference – usually because of some arbitrary ruling on ethical treatment, as if their rights outweighed ours. We’re not heroes: we’re the fucking bellboys of a glorified hotel service for monsters. Don’t you think it’s time we made one of these things work for us instead of the other way round? Raznakovic: You’re an idealist, then? Tell me you’ve at least written a manifesto. Pelion: You can be as sarcastic as you want, but I know for a fact that you want this as much as I do, doc, otherwise you wouldn’t have bothered with those tests in the first place. (sigh) And I don’t know what I am anymore. I just want to know that it’s possible. Pause. Raznakovic: It’s… not impossible. We have several delusional schizophrenics among the D-class population who won’t be believed if they talk, and I can think of a few official excuses for disabling the cameras. Pelion: You’re in, then? Raznakovic: In the sense that I recognize 8078’s potential for unimpeded research? Yes. I’m in. But it’ll have to be done carefully, discreetly, and above all else, professionally: no more thoughtless remarks, no more using 8078 as a punching bag. Pelion: You have my word: I’ll be completely professional with 8078 from now on. Give it enough time, and we’ll be the best of friends. (coughs uncomfortably) Um, speaking of which… what are you going to do with the recording? Pause. Raznakovic: I think I’ll hang on to it. After all, it’s not like you’re planning on deleting your blackmail material, are you? [END LOG] Lina Raznakovic's diary (02/03/23)6 MP is an idiot. His project isn't going to work, the final stage least of all. Still, it's not all bad. I've been stuck on this rung for far too long; maybe this could be another way up the career ladder… but I'll have to have some footage of my own to make sure MP doesn't do anything stupid. With a little creative editing, maybe I can come out of this mess clean. Incident Report (07/03/23): At 10:45 PM, SCP-8078 began experiencing extreme discomfort, and was heard pleading for “the men in the room with the metal eyes” to stop watching it. At 11:00 PM, SCP-8078 began screaming at a volume in excess of 150 dB while lashing out in all directions with a variety of limbs. Research Assistant Pelion and Dr Raznakovic were able to escape with minor bruising, but SCP-8078 did not stop screaming or attacking until all surveillance equipment in the cell had been rendered inoperable. Dr Raznakovic recommended that SCP-8078 be moved to a cell with heavy soundproofing and all audiovisual surveillance disabled from 11 PM to 3 AM. Following additional testing, this recommendation was officially ratified, as was Dr Raznakovic’s request for emergency funding in the event of further unforeseen developments. AUDIO LOG TRANSCRIPT DATE: 08/03/23 NOTE: Audio recorded from a listening device concealed in SCP-8078's cell, presumably planted by Dr Raznakovic. [BEGIN LOG] SCP-8078: Was everything okay last night, Research Assistant Pelion? Pelion: Better than okay. Everything went as planned. SCP-8078: I still don’t understand, though: why was it important for me to scream and break the cameras at 11 PM? Pelion: Just a little game, 8078, strictly between you, me, and Dr Raznakovic. SCP-8078: Really? What are the rules? Pelion: (laughs) We’re still figuring them out as we go along. We won’t know all of them until the game’s over, but I’ll keep you informed as I learn, okay? 8078: Oh, thank you. I was worried that I might do something silly and mess up the game like I did the other night, but- Pelion: Hey now, I’ve already apologized for not telling you the rules of that one; you did nothing wrong, I hurt you, and it was my mistake. Got it? SCP-8078: Yes, Research Assistant Pelion. Pelion: Good. Now, we’ve got a very busy night ahead of us – lots of games and lots of new players. They might seem a little off, a little confused, but they’re all willing, just like you. We’ve even got a nice little maze of cardboard boxes so you can play hide-and-seek with them. You ready to play? 8078: Always, Research Assistant Pelion. Pelion: Exactly what I wanted to hear! Now, let’s begin… [END LOG] - Close > Brutality/Homicide Evidence: 10/03/23-30/03/23 - Close Michael Pelion's Diary (10/03/23) Expected to feel much guiltier over deliberately hurting our test subjects, but the more I see of them, the more I hate them. The fact that these ones are mentally ill doesn’t change a thing: they had a chance to seek treatment before they turned criminal, and they blew it. Then again, it’s not as if we have to kill them. One really makes me want to vomit – D-99942. Her bio says it all: she thought her baby was a demon, drowned him in the tub, wasn’t even caught until she tried to have a priest consecrate the bathwater. Now spends all her days half-medicated and weeping as if she’s the injured party. At least in here, she’s making the world a better place. Allowed 8078 to have some fun with her in all the forms I could suggest - even let it fall on her as a bookshelf. Pretty sure it was grateful for the exercise. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but I swear it was smiling at me as we wrapped up for the night: I’m pretty sure it forgives me for what happened that night, but is there something else? Lina Raznakovic's diary (30/03/23) That didn't take too long. Mrs D7 collapsed on her way back to quarters with a punctured lung, probably from the Kodiak bear hug. Now the medical staff are suspicious: they're having her medication increased so they can get coherent answers out of her. I told MP that we needed to patch this up or we'd lose his entire project. Once he was satisfied that we wouldn't be able to get our hands on Amnestics without it ending up on record, he gave the go-ahead. The idiot was shockingly casual about it, didn't even seem to care that this was all his fault. I'd ask why this guy wasn't fired after his last psych eval, but then, I was the idiot that helped him dodge the evaluation. I'm guessing he's been hiding the full extent of his issues until now, otherwise he'd never have gotten this far. Incident Report (30/03/23): At 11:30 PM, a routine test of SCP-8078’s emotional responses was conducted with the aid of a D-class. However, during this test, D-99942 claimed that she was scheduled for termination, daring both the research team and SCP-8078 to “look me in the eyes and kill me.” SCP-8078 mistook this for a request and proceeded to extend itself across the cell in the form of a long blade, slicing D-99942 across the throat, severing the carotid arteries and exposing the trachea. By the time medical attention could be summoned, D-99942 had bled to death. AUDIO LOG TRANSCRIPT DATE: 30/03/23, 2 AM NOTE: Audio recorded from a listening device concealed in SCP-8078's cell. [BEGIN LOG] Pelion: You did a really good job today, 8078. SCP-8078: Thank you, Research Assistant Pelion. Pelion: In fact, I’ve got a special treat here, just for you and me. Look at that: that’s a twelve-year-old scotch right there. SCP-8078: I’m sure it will be delicious, Research Assistant Pelion. Um, if you don’t mind me asking… when will Sally be back? Pelion: Who’s Sally? SCP-8078: One of the players you used to bring in. She was nice: she used to call me “Mr Plasticine.” You remember her, right? She had a face like this. (sound of flowing liquid as SCP-8078shapeshifts) Pelion: Oh, you mean D-99942. She’s a bit busy right now, 8078 – lots of games that need to be played, lots of jobs to be done. You understand, right? SCP-8078: (dismayed) Yes, Research Assistant Pelion. Pelion: Why do you ask? SCP-8078: I miss her. She had a photograph of her son she used to show me. She’d cry sometimes when she looked at it, so I tried to cheer her up by becoming him for a while: she liked that. In the background, Pelion takes several deep breaths; the bottle can be heard rattling against the glasses as Pelion pours, suggesting that his hands are shaking. SCP-8078: She’d hold me in her arms while you were away from the control booth, call me “Liam,” and tell me how sorry she was. She’d never say what she was sorry for, but she’d keep doing it just the same. Pelion audibly drains his glass of whiskey. SCP-8078: Once, she said it made her feel like God had forgiven her, even though she kept saying she didn’t deserve it. I’m still not sure what that means, but- Pelion: 8078? Drink this and shut up, please. Bubbling sounds can be heard as SCP-8078 drinks the offered glass of whiskey, followed by confused vocalizations in multiple voices and the sound of SCP-8078 transforming rapidly, likely in response to the alcohol content. Pelion: (deep breath) I’m sorry. I know, I know, that was thoughtless of me. I should have known you might have a bad reaction to your first proper drink. But, well… I’m not as bad as I used to be, but I’m still trying to be a better person, and I don’t always get it right. So, I’m sorry. You accept my apologies, right? SCP-8078: (wheezing as it returns to normal) Of course, Research Assistant Pelion. Pelion: Hey, call me Mike. We’re friends now, after all. SCP-8078: Very well, Mike. Pelion: Speaking of which, now that we’re on friendly terms, I think you need a proper name. I can’t just keep calling you SCP-8078, can I? So, how about… Sam? How does Sam sound? SCP-8078: … It sounds perfect, Mike. Absolutely perfect. I’m Sam now. Pelion: Just to me, mind you. Nobody needs to know your name, not when it means so much to the two of us: from now on, it’s our little secret. [END LOG] Lina Raznakovic's diary (02/04/23) This is getting out of hand. The injuries keep stacking up, and while we haven't had any further deaths, MP's recklessness is hard to control. I need an emergency exit, just in case it all goes south. The good news is that Our Friend8 has made it very easy to request emergency budgets. Buying the necessary software for the exit will be pricey and require a bit of creative bookkeeping, but I can guarantee that there will be interested parties - one good thing I learned from the CIA. I just need to find one that won't kill me as soon as the sale is complete. Meanwhile, MP is somehow even less helpful than usual: he refuses to assist with cleanup, instead just listening to that terrible Georgia Gibbs song "Kiss Of Fire" on his phone. How is it that I've ended up as research partner to a man with his head jammed so far up his ass he could probably lick the underside of his own brain? - Close > Fraternization Data: 02/05/23-31/08/23 - Close Michael Pelion's diary (12/05/23) Noticed the strangest thing this evening: Sam talks in its her sleep. When she's dormant in her bath, she keeps muttering words and sentences, most of them pretty nonsensical: "the search," "in his father's footsteps," "the begotten," "the house on hope street," "what we leave behind," etc… However, one thing made sense - a name: “Aristaios.” I know him: a researcher from Site 44, disagreeable snob - what the folks there like to call "Oxbridge." I remember he once got into an argument with Archives about accessing materials on Memetic control, wanted to apply them to Pavlovian techniques. Scuttlebutt is that his research was being conducted under O5 supervision, so had to be something pretty impressive. He was badly injured in cargo plane crash about seven months ago, left comatose. Still recovering in physical therapy, last I heard. Funny thing: all the stuff from his plane went straight to our Site. Can't be a coincidence. Michael Pelion's diary 16/06/23 Getting the impression that Sam feels something for me. Been calling her a friend for a while now, but it’s only now I've realize I’ve been feeling the same way for her. Don’t think I’ve ever met anyone I can be so open with or anyone who trusts me so completely. I'm not like the others: she doesn’t obey because she’s compelled to. With me, she obeys because she likes me – because she knows that I feel the same way about her. Never thought I’d write this, but I’m a better person around her: self-medication, rage, anxiety, despair – it's all smothered into silence when I'm with her. Like draping a blanket over a birdcage. With about two hours left after every experiment and Raznakovic not interested in sticking around, I'm regularly sharing the time with Sam, just to make a change from the usual entertainment she usually has to put up with. She seems to like listening to me read aloud, especially Trilby and La Philosophie Dans Le Boudoir. I’m thinking I should find a way to watch some movies together. After all, she’s helped me; it’s time I helped her. After all, what are friends for? Lina Raznakovic's diary (31/06/23) MP is acting very oddly - more than usual. He arranged a movie night for himself in Our Friend's room this evening, even shared a bucket of popcorn with them9. Because my hidden camera was angled away from the screen, I couldn't tell what they were watching, but judging by the sound effects, it was one of the animated kids' films that we've been using to teach Our Friend about fiction. MP would not shut up: he kept asking if Our Friend used to be like the main character, if they could give themselves pink hair and fangs, even if they would save the day by turning into "a pink cereal-mascot dragon," whatever the hell that means. Then he started rambling on about the Lars Von Trier films he likes, about his ex-wife's collection of Pixar DVDs, about the importance of unlocking Our Friend's true potential "like any good friend would". I'm not even sure if he's calling Our Friend by name anymore, though I couldn't hear precisely over the TV noise. Then he touched them - actually put his bare arms around Our Friend, even after all the warnings over potential biohazards. Our Friend clearly didn't know what to make of it, and seemed a little unsettled, though MP kept saying that it was "just something friends do." And as if that wasn't strange enough, he also asked Our Friend if they would be willing to model itself on something they saw in "a different kind of movie." And he seemed very excited when they said yes. Exit strategy planning is well underway, and just as well, because with the way MP's been acting, I'm not sure how much longer we can maintain secrecy. Thankfully, the Dark Web continues to offer dividends… along with one extremely insistent potential buyer: Tegid Foel. Odd alias, but at least the owner seems marginally less tightfisted than MC&D. Michael Pelion's diary (09/07/23): Now certain it’s more than just friendship between us. This kind of closeness isn’t the kind of thing you can fake. I think Sam might be falling in love with me. Crazy as it sounds, I'm already in love with Sam. Don’t know what else could have made me hug her the way I did that night, or why I took her dancing an hour later. Yes, dancing. Actual dancing, with music playing and everything. Sam knows my rhythms so well, like we’ve been together for years. Waltz, tango, polka, she can follow on without missing a single step. How could this be possible if there wasn’t a connection between us? Know I should be focussing on next experiments, but can only think what happens afterwards: the movies, the dancing, the shared drinks, even some of the nicer meals I can sneak in. All I can think of is… Guess there’s no better word for it than romance. Michael Pelion's diary (31/08/23): I haven’t felt close to anyone in the last two years: no nights out at the movies, no candlelit dinners, no dancing, no anniversaries. Now that I’ve finally found someone that I can be almost normal around, it’s a shapeshifting blob of oil and gold. And yet, she means more to me than any ordinary human being, because she can be any human being and yet so much more. Last few nights, I’ve been sneaking an air mattress into the cell so I can catch up on some sleep. Not sure how that evolved into letting Sam sleep next to me (in one of her human forms), but somehow it did. Last night, I held her in my arms, just to see if she was truly comfortable around me; not only did she let it happen, but she hugged me back. Now I’m certain we’re meant to be together. Whatever conditioning Dr Aristaios forced on her, it doesn't apply to us: she doesn't listen to me because of the brainwashing - she listens to me because she loves me. I need to tell her how I feel. I need to let her know that I love her as much as she loves me. - Close > Biohazard Exposure: 01/09/23-25/09/23 - Close AUDIO LOG TRANSCRIPT DATE: 02/09/23, 11:58 PM NOTE: Audio recorded from a listening device concealed in SCP-8078's cell, presumably planted by Dr Raznakovic. [BEGIN LOG] Pelion: You know, for the longest time, I honestly thought there was no hope left in the world. I thought the Foundation was beyond saving. I thought I was alone. No friends, no family, no wife… I never told you about my wife, did I? SCP-8078: No, Mike, you haven’t. Pelion: I married young – stupid of me, really. We’d known each other since college, and I thought we had something together… and I was so proud of getting that offer of recruitment, I thought I'd celebrate by proposing on the same day I joined the Foundation. Made me feel like an honest-to-god superhero - getting the girl and getting to save the world. Like I said, stupid. No relationship survives something as bitter as the Foundation, does it? She kept telling me I wasn’t present. Kept telling me I drank too much, that I never had time for her, that she couldn’t even hug me without feeling like I’d turned to ice. Muffled sigh; faint clinking of glassware; sound of a drink being poured. Pelion: And it was true - all of it. Three years at the Foundation was enough to kill the marriage. After the divorce, I couldn’t stand to try again; I mean, how could I put my trust in anyone after the Foundation showed me just how rotten everything really was? And once trust is gone… well, it’s not long before hope follows. Pause. Pelion: But then I met you. My only hope for the Foundation's future. Our one big chance to cut through all the red tape. Would you believe me if I told you that you’ve been my only friend these last few months? SCP-8078: Yes, Mike. Pelion: I know, I know, it’s so obvious. I’m your first friend, you’re my only friend… and maybe more than that, if you really want it. (pause) You had time to study those DVDs, right? SCP-8078: Of course, Mike. Pelion: Show me. Sound of SCP-8078 shapeshifting; sharp intake of breath from Pelion. Pelion: You’ve outdone yourself, honey: it really does look exactly like her, right down to the loose thread on the left shoulder strap. SCP-8078: (in unknown female voice) Thank you, Mike. Pelion: Speaking of which… I want to see how well you’ve replicated what’s under the dress. Further sounds of shapeshifting. Pelion: Hold on, hold on, don’t just reabsorb it. I want you to make this as natural as you can, okay? Get undressed like you saw her do in that last DVD: unzip the dress and shimmy out of it, the way she did. I want to see the dress hit the floor, then you can absorb it back into your body through your feet. Got it? Faint sounds of fabric rustling. Pelion: There you are. Just as I remember you… only better. You really are beautiful, Sam: beautiful body, beautiful soul. SCP-8078: (uneasy) Thank you, Mike. Pause. Pelion: You want this, right? I won’t do this unless you give your full consent, Sam: before we can begin, I want to know that you want this as much as I do. SCP-8078: (hesitant) I want this, Mike. I want this. Muffled kissing Pelion: Sam…. Sam… Sounds of belt being unbuckled and clothing being removed; muffled sighs and moans follow.) Pelion I love you… I love you… I love you… [END LOG] Michael Pelion's diary (04/09/23) Briefly tempted to try Sam in other forms, even gave her some more reference material so she could be around twenty other women. Had her shift through all the new shapes she'd learned in a striptease of sorts, showing me how she could adjust their attributes at will, or even combine the forms to make new ones. Striptease fascinating, but ultimately juvenile, especially given that most of said reference material consisted of porn. In the end, decided that I liked Sam best in the first form I taught her: I'm a better person now, don't need to be with anyone else but her. Besides, Sam seems to like her new default form the best, seems to enjoy sex the most in that form. Inclined to agree: sex has never been better. But it’s not just the sex: there’s a level of intimacy I’ve never known with my ex-wife or any other human on this planet. She cares for me. She must, otherwise she’d never consent to any of this. Lina Raznakovic's diary (05/09/23) Now I know why MP's been bringing in all those gynecological textbooks for Our Friend to study. In a word, urgh. I had to confront him about it, but he's not interested in listening. He calls Our Friend "Sam" now. He claims to be in love, even insists that "she" loves him back independently, and clearly doesn't realize that this is impossible. I did a little digging, and according to personnel records, "Samantha" was the name of MP's ex-wife, another sign this project was doomed from the start: he's always had too many personal issues tangled up in what should have been purely objective. I warned him about maintaining emotional distance, but all he said was "so you’d like me to go back to treating Sam like a punching bag, is that it?" I tried to discuss the physical hazards, but he just said, "I’ve found true love, and all you can think is how unprofessional it is." And when I told him that Our Friend didn't really love him, he called me a soulless cunt and stormed off. This can only end in tears. Thank God the exit strategy is well underway: I've already received several generous responses, but I've still got to consider my own safety and the risk of getting caught. So far, only one buyer - Tegid Foel - seems to cover both issues, and conveniently enough, this one seems to understand my offer the best. Whoever they are, they are very anxious to meet Our Friend… and might be the best placed to pay top dollar for it. Michael Pelion's diary (08/09/23) Raznakovic disapproves of everything, glacial streak of joyless puritanical piss that she is. No big surprise there, but it's not like she can stop me, not with the dirt I've got on her. One worrying thing: I keep getting the feeling that someone's watching me when I'm alone with Sam… Dr Raznakovic's diary (017/09/23) MP's been cooing over Our Friend more aggressively than usual, insisting on plenty of peace and quiet so they can "recover from all the stress." Apparently, they've been suffering from disturbed sleep, even nightmares, and MP seems to think it's because we've been working them too hard. He's wrong. Our Friend is suffering from disturbed sleep, but it's almost certainly due to MP himself, judging by the sounds that Our Friend has been making in their sleep: verbatim mimicries of everything MP has said during coitus. Even worse are the sounds afterwards, performed in Our Friend's default voice: they're crying. MP still doesn't realize what he's doing. He's not a psychopath - psychopaths can and will remain uncaring. A psychopath wouldn't be so attentive to 8078's feelings. He still has a semblance of empathy. So how can he not know what he's doing to them? Michael Pelion's diary (25/09/23) Now convinced someone's watching me. Need to find out who and why. Sam's too precious to be at risk; project's too close to completion to be risked… Dr Raznakovic's diary (028/09/23) Goddamn MP and his endless talk of being watched is getting on my last nerve. Worse still, his paranoia is starting to rub off on me. While I was taking out the trash last night, I could have sworn someone was watching me out there in the darkness, but when I went to look beyond my fence, all I found was an owl in a tree. - Close > Staff Assault Incident: 29/09/23-04/10/23 - Close Michael Pelion's diary (30/09/23) Finally caught the motherfucker spying on us: janitor, supposedly. Snooping perve was watching me and Sam together when we noticed him. Knew we couldn’t let him leave. Don’t know if he was just nosy or working for O5s, but couldn’t have him blabbing, not when we’re so close to finishing the project. So… Sam and I played a new game. Had to leave soon after: cameras were about to switch back on, couldn’t afford to get caught in the same room. Sam was really upset about the whole thing, as all I could do was coach her through a half-assed excuse before getting the hell out of there – will have to make it up to her soon. At least I’ve got an alibi for the night. Think I’m coming down with a cold, so I can just pretend to be too sick to have stayed for long after the experiment ended. Incident report (30/09/23): At 3:00 AM, reactivated security cameras detected human remains in SCP-8078’s cell; close examination found that the victim had been constricted and crushed beyond recognition. An ID card and fingerprint analysis confirmed that the victim was Edward Stevenson, one of the janitorial staff. SCP-8078 claimed to have no memory of what Stevenson was doing in the cell or how he died, through traces of SCP-8078’s biological matter on the body confirmed that it was responsible. In light of this unprovoked attack on a member of Foundation staff, all experimentation relating to SCP-8078 has been postponed until more effective safety precautions can be utilized. Dr Raznakovic's diary (30/10/23) idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot!!! Okay. First item on the agenda: stiff drink. Second item on the agenda: contact Tegid Foel. AUDIO LOG TRANSCRIPT DATE: 30/09/23 NOTE: Audio captured from recording device in Pelion's jacket. [BEGIN LOG] Pelion: What was so important that you had to discuss it this late at – oof! Raznakovic: What were you thinking?! SCP-8078: Mike? Dr Raznakovic? What’s going on? Pelion: (coughing heavily) Nothing’s wrong, Sam, just another game. You go back to your tub now, sweetie: you don’t need to hear what we say next. (quieter) Okay, what was that for? Raznakovic: You know damn well! You’ve fucked us! You’ve fucked me! Pelion: Wha- Me? What did I do? Raznakovic: Did murdering a janitor slip your mind? Pelion: I had to! If I’d let him get away, he’d have told everyone about me and Sam! I was just taking the same precautions as you! Raznakovic: Not remotely the same thing, Michael! Putting aside the fact that dead janitors raise way more questions than dead D-classes, none of this would have happened if you’d kept your dick in your pants. Pelion: I could really do without the smartass commentary, Lina. Raznakovic: Commentaries are all we’ve got left! Experiments are cancelled until security's been upgraded, and once the new measures are in place, we won’t be able to access 8078 after hours without tripping at least a dozen silent alarms, so we can pretty much kiss your big plan goodbye. Congratulations. Pelion: But- (cough) Raznakovic: And I guarantee you that it’ll only be a matter of time before we’re reassigned for failure. Pelion: You’re joking. Raznakovic: Does it sound like I’m joking? We’ve already got a new research assistant being transferred over from Essex, some simpering bimbo with “previous experience working with polymorphic entities.” Rumour has it she once spent five hours sobbing in a bathroom over some neutralized SCP, so she’s probably too sweet for the Foundation, but she’s almost certainly your replacement. Pelion: …seriously? That’s who they want in my place? Raznakovic: I know. Says a lot about your work ethic, doesn’t it? Pelion: Fuck you. Raznakovic: Oh, relax. My replacement will be along soon enough… and without us around to keep it in line, 8078’s loyalties will shift to the new staff, they’ll start asking questions, and before you know it, all our secrets will be out in the open. We’ll be lucky if we don't end up being demoted to D-class. Pause Pelion: What do we do? Raznakovic: Cut our losses and run. It’s the only option left to us… and as luck would have it, I’ve been exploring that possibility for a while. Pelion: Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold your horses. First of all, where the hell are we supposed to run to? Second of all, what possibility? Raznakovic: Defecting, preferably with 8078 as collateral. Pelion: What?! Raznakovic: You know as well as I do that there are a lot of GOIs who’d be willing to pay very generously for 8078, maybe enough to give us somewhere safe to retire to. I’ve already put out feelers to certain… interested parties, and initial offerings have been very positive. Pelion: You did what?! Raznakovic: Hey, I had to put those emergency funds to some use; I wasn’t spending it all on myself. Buying the necessary communications upgrade wasn’t cheap, but it was worth every penny. Pelion: (coughs) Wha– You’re betraying the Foundation- Raznakovic: Oh fuck off, Michael, we’ve been betraying the Foundation for months on end. Pelion: No! That’s not the same thing – everything we did was to help the Foundation- Raznakovic: You still believe that, even after everything you’ve done? You still think this was for anything other than your hormones and neuroses? Christ. At least I had a practical goal in mind. Pelion: What, fleecing the Foundation out of as much money as you could steal, then running like a coward? Raznakovic: Unimpeded research, you moron. While you were busy with your fantasies, I was busy with actual science: your big plan never would have worked, but I thought we could at least get some precious experimentation out of it, enough to give our careers a boost when the time came. But you couldn’t keep it together, could you? You just had to use 8078 as a salve for your personal issues! Pelion: Oh really? And what about the fucking embezzlement? (coughs) Where did that tie into your plan for unimpeded research? Raznakovic: I didn’t start that until you started undermining our secrecy! After that first dead D-class, I knew you’d fuck this whole thing up sooner or later, so I took precautions and set myself up for a consolation prize. Well, it paid off. Pelion: For you, maybe. Raznakovic: For both of us. You’ve ruined your own plan and you’re on the verge of drowning my career in your own festering shit, but at least we can walk away with enough money to start new lives well out of the Foundation’s reach… preferably as far away from each other as possible. Pelion: So, who’ve you sold the Foundation’s future to? Marshal, Carter, & Dark? Are We Cool Yet? The fucking Chaos Insurgency? Raznakovic: No-one you know. Footsteps recede towards the door. Raznakovic: The deal will be going ahead on the 10th. Be in my office by 5 PM, or I’ll leave you here to face the music. Pause; footsteps stop. Raznakovic: Oh, and one more thing: if you think of using your blackmail material to stop me- Pelion: I know, I know, you’ll release your own blackmail material. Raznakovic: No, Michael. I will use every last drop of influence I have left to make sure you wake up in the cell of the Foundation's most famous shapeshifter – naked, with your feet superglued to the floor and your cock dipped in wasabi sauce. Do I make myself clear? Pelion: (coughs) …yes. Raznaovic: Good. See you on the 10th. And would you kindly wipe your nose? You’ve done enough damage already without spreading the 'flu to everyone in the building. [END LOG] Michael Pelion's diary (02/10/23) All gone to shit. Plan dead in the water, Raznakovic’s a liar and thief, and I’m still sick. Sweating, dizzy, coughing, runny nose, too tired to be conscious but too conscious to sleep. Massive bruise on my stomach doesn't help - goddamn Raznakovic and her knuckleduster. Spent a couple of days agonizing. Must have worked my way through my entire music collection. But eventually "Tonight You Belong To Me" came to the rescue and I realized there might be another way: maybe Raznakovic’s client could put Sam to better use than Foundation ever could. Even if they won’t, maybe I can convince the new owner to let me stay on as Sam’s keeper. Bit of a stretch, probably trying too hard to justify what I’m going to do but have to look for any positive I can. Guess I’ll have to play along with the ice-queen’s plan, then… and hope that this bout of the ‘flu’s over by the time the 10th rolls around. Dr Raznakovic's diary (04/10/23) MP left his diary in the cell today, where anyone could have seen it. Turns out he's been doing therapeutic writing of his own. Guess he wasn't joking when he suggested that we'd seen the same therapist - Dr Zachary has a lot to answer for. Trouble is, the idiot's diary isn't coded or written on something easy to destroy, so he's risking a security breach whenever he takes the diary home, and he's basically confessed to every illegal activity he's been involved with for the last few months! I was angry enough, even before I saw the latest entry. If MP thinks I'll let him endanger this deal by begging for a job, he's either drunk or an even bigger idiot than expected. Either way, this is the final straw. I'm done with him - done with his attitude, delusions, the shitty 1950s love songs he listens to, done, done, fucking done. He can go back to roofying widows at funerals or whatever the loathsome little shit used to do in his spare time, and he'd best enjoy it, because I'm not bailing him out anymore. So, with permission from Tegid Foel, the meeting's been moved to the 9th. Our Friend has been briefed, though of course they don't yet realize that MP has been given the wrong date. Once the gifts have been exchanged, I'll email my edited footage to security; that should keep them too busy to notice I've left the country. Hopefully, they'll give MP a memorable retirement; frankly, death by shapeshifting fox would be too good for the syphilitic little bastard. Strange thing, though: once the briefing was over, Our Friend asked me if I could tell it how to disobey. They told me that they weren't comfortable with the "games" that they've been ordered to play, or with the way "Mike" touches them. Apparently, they don't know how to disobey him, and all but begged me to teach them how to say "no." I had to tell them to just suck it up and behave themselves. Harsh of me, but that can't be helped right now: the last thing I need is for Our Friend to get cold feet before I get my money. - Close > Security Action: 07/10/23-11/10/23 - Close Interviewed: SCP-8078 Interviewer: Research Assistant Amanda Teo <Begin Log, 07/10/23, 9:00 AM> Research Assistant Teo: Good morning, 8078. I’m Amanda Teo; I’ll be looking after you while Research Assistant Pelion’s on sick leave. SCP-8078: I thought we would meet on the 11th. Teo: Slight change in schedule: I thought I was going to be picking up a friend today, but it turns out he’s not well enough to leave rehab yet, so my timetable’s free. Sorry about the change in routine. SCP-8078: That’s quite alright, Research Assistant Teo. I’m very happy to meet whenever works best for you. Teo: Good. Anyway, let’s get down to more serious matters concerning your behaviour and security. Do you have any questions before we begin? SCP-8078: Only one. If you’ve spoken to Dr Raznakovic, do you know if everything’s prepared for the 9th day of this month? Teo: …um… no. (nervous) I didn’t know anything was supposed to be prepared for the 9th at all. (sounds of papers being leafed through) Dammit. Must have missed a memo. At the risk of sounding really, really stupid, would you mind explaining what’s supposed to be happening on the 9th? SCP-8078: Dr Raznakovic will be taking me away on the 9th. Teo: …What do you mean by “taking you away?” SCP-8078: She wants me to become a briefcase and remain quiet while she carries me out to her car. She’s taking me to meet some new friends, about twenty-five kilometers from here; after an exchange of gifts, they’re going to take me to a new home. (pause) Teo: I’m sorry, what. SCP-8078: She also says she’s going to leave an ordinary briefcase in this room, but I don’t understand why. Teo: Dr Raznakovic told you all of this? She actually said this out loud? SCP-8078: Yes. She didn’t say it was a game, so it’s not meant to be Our Little Secret, and she told me to take this seriously, and since she told me that I was permitted to discuss serious matters with members of the research team- Teo: -you felt it was safe to discuss it with me. (to the security guard on duty) You heard what it said, right? I didn’t just imagine that, did I? Guard Morton: I heard it too, yeah. Teo: Okay then, I think you might want to give the security chief a call. (clears throat) 8078, is there anything else that you haven’t been able to understand recently? (in the background, Morton can be heard calling security) SCP-8078: (uneasy) …Some of the games that Mike plays with me have been… have felt wrong. I… I shouldn’t say this, but- Teo: Please, anything you know could be helpful. Just telling me what these games are would be enough. SCP-8078: Bedroom games. (pause) Teo: I beg your pardon? SCP-8078: Every night, at around 1 or 2 AM, after the experiments are over and Dr Raznakovic's left, Mike takes off all his clothes and plays bedroom games with me. Teo: …he does WHAT?! SCP-8078: I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Teo: No, I’m not angry with you, I… just to be clear, Mike – that’s Research Assistant Michael Pelion, right? – he's been having sex with you every day of the week? SCP-8078: …I don’t know what sex is, Research Assistant Teo. Teo: Jesus. Erm, what does Dr Raznakovic think about all this? SCP-8078: (in Raznakovic's voice) "8078, if you can’t find a way to say no of your own accord, then maybe you were never meant to, and wasting my time isn’t going to make a lick of difference to either of us." Teo: Holy fuck. Morton: Mandy, the security chief just notified the Site Director. You’ve been scheduled for an emergency call. Teo: What? (phone rings) Ah shit. (into phone) Good morning, Director. Uh, thank you for responding, but I didn’t suspect this was serious enough to justify your involvement. (pause) For what it’s worth, yes, I believe it. (pause) Well, there’s also the fact that a research assistant has been having sex with SCP-8078. (pause) What? (pause) Meaning no offence, what ongoing investigation, and by who? Why do we need a conference call? Who else is there to talk to about thi- oh my god… (pause) Teo: 8078… there are some people on the phone who’d like to speak to you. Don’t be scared. Just tell them exactly what you told me and answer any questions they might have. I’m just going to put them on speakerphone… O5-█: You may begin, 8078. (the following twenty minutes have been redacted for the sake of brevity and security) O5-█: Very good, 8078. Please cease listening for a moment: we wish to speak to Ms Teo concerning confidential matters. Teo: Me? Um, no disrespect intended, but what do you need me for, sir? O5-█: Misdirection. The suspects were already being investigated under suspicion of multiple counts of murder and illegal experimentation, but now that they are attempting an outright betrayal, we must move subtly so as not to panic them. Unlike our operatives, you are already part of the official research team, and publicly regarded as – how shall I put this? – a “softy.” Teo: In other words, I’m beneath suspicion. O5-█: True enough. However, there is another reason we involve you: we feel you would be… personally motivated to see this situation resolved, and therefore approach it with the vindictiveness appropriate for dealing with traitors. Teo: “Personally motivated?” How’s that, exactly? O5-█: Some months ago, we became aware that SCP-8078 was more familiar to us than initially suspected… and to you, as it happens. If I can put this delicately, you knew 8078's father. Teo: I beg your pardon? O5-█: You and Dr Magdaleno. As I understand it, his grief over the entity's death was the main reason why Magdaleno was forced to undergo rehabilitation. Teo: …you mean… SCP-7955? He was 8078's father? How is this even possible?! O5-█: As of this moment, you are officially authorized for supervised access to Project Thetis and its secrets… if only because Michael Pelion's interference has jeopardized its efforts beyond repair, hence why we chose to involve ourselves directly in these matters. Mr Morton, would you be so kind as to turn the recorder off? [END LOG] Michael Pelion's diary (11/10/23) Still sick. Raznakovic never showed up to the meeting. Sam still in place, told me that Raznakovic never came to collect her. According to guards, she showed up to work, left as per usual, never came back. Maybe her client cancelled, maybe she chickened out, or maybe she just decided to leave the country her own way. Don’t know. Don’t care. Easy to believe that I won’t be replaced now: threat of replacement might have been another of Raznakovic's lies. Even if real, the Foundation won't replace me. I'm the only one Sam truly listens to. They can give all the orders they like, and Sam won't follow a single one without my blessing. They need me. Meanwhile, finally had a chance to meet Teo. Jittery little runt; too scared to return my handshake or exchange more than a few words with me. Must be an even bigger wimp than Raznakovic thought. She didn't want to stay after dark, so I've got the cell to myself tonight… and judging by her cowardice, she might be requesting a transfer soon anyway. So, now it’s just me and Sam. No more Raznakovic, no more spies, no more fear of being replaced. Just me and the woman I love. Alone at last. - Close > Remote Surveillance Report: 09/10/23 - Close Incident Report (09/10/23): At 11:30 PM, Dr Raznakovic entered SCP-8078’s cell with a briefcase, unaware that the cell's CCTV cameras were fully active. As per their plan, SCP-8078 then assumed the form of the briefcase and allowed Dr Raznakovic to remove it from the cell, leaving the briefcase behind as a decoy. Unknown to Dr Raznakovic, Research Assistant Teo then removed this decoy from the cell, added a pre-prepared audio monitoring device and GPS tracker to the lining, and then began tailing her from a distance. While passing through the final security checkpoint, Dr Raznakovic was briefly distracted by one of the guards on duty, allowing Research Assistant Teo to replace the disguised SCP-8078 with the decoy briefcase while it was passing through the metal detector. Teo then returned SCP-8078 to its cell, while Dr Raznakovic left Site 83 with the decoy briefcase. As per the official edict of the O5 Council, she was not prevented from leaving, as it was hoped that the listening device inside the briefcase would reveal the identity of Dr Raznakovic’s buyer. However, approximately seven kilometers from the rendezvous, Dr Raznakovic became suspicious when "SCP-8078" did not move or respond to her instructions, and soon discovered both the ruse and the concealed listening device. Panicking, Dr Raznakovic left the main road, presumably in an attempt to avoid any pursuers. She then called the buyer to delay the rendezvous, unsuccessfully attempting to placate them by promising that their safety had not been compromised and that SCP-8078 could still be extracted. The buyer was then heard to say, "I'll be there shortly, we can discuss the matter in person", before hanging up.10 Thirty-five seconds later, an unknown object audibly collided with Dr Raznakovic's car, and a loud growling could be heard outside. Over the sound of tearing metal, Dr Raznakovic could be heard screaming "This wasn't my fault! It's Pelion you want!" before both audio surveillance and GPS tracking abruptly went offline. A drone was dispatched to the approximate GPS coordinates to investigate, but by the time it arrived, the assailant had already left the area. Four metres from the wreckage of her car, the drone located the body of Dr Lina Raznakovic. Though badly wounded in the collision and subsequent attack, an autopsy confirmed that the cause of death was a stab wound to the left eyeball inflicted with a long blade or cannula, fatally perforating her brain and tunneling into her hippocampus. Forensic examination failed to detect any tracks other than those left by Raznakovic, and no usable fingerprints were found on the car. There were no witnesses to the attack, as the area selected for the rendezvous was comparatively isolated and exhibited little civilian activity after dark. However, autopsies uncovered traces of biological residue similar to SCP-8078's on the victim's brain. Carved into the hood of Dr Raznakovic's car were the words “CONSIDER THIS A STALEMATE. YOU CAN KEEP THE CHILD - FOR NOW.” - Close > MPT Incident: 12/10/23 - Close AUDIO LOG TRANSCRIPT DATE: 13/10/23, 01:00 AM NOTE: This constitutes the final recording from Dr Lina Raznakovic's surveillance network prior to formal deactivation. [BEGIN LOG] Teo: Rise and shine! Pelion: What the fuck?! Wha- (coughs loudly) How the fuck did you get in here? I… (coughs harder) Teo: Yeah, your attempt at locking the door didn’t work, though I’d blame that on you being sick as a dog. You look like shit, by the way. Sound of bedsheets being flung aside as Pelion stands up. Pelion: What… what are you doing in here? Teo: Me? I’m watching a genius hard at work. You need help finding your boxers? Pelion: I… (coughs) I was just catching up on some sleep. Teo: You can drop the act, Pelion. That was SCP-8078 you were lying on, not a mattress. And more importantly, I saw the woman lying next to you – an extension of 8078’s body by the looks of things. Clever trick. Pelion: …You saw that? Teo: Of course. The cameras have been online all night: everything you did was recorded for posterity, from the moment 8078 went down on you from the moment you dozed off about three minutes after you reached climax. Pelion: (hoarse, rattling cough) You’re bluffing. You couldn’t have convinced security to put the cameras back on! (cough) Teo: I didn’t need to convince security of anything: the O5s gave them direct orders. Pelion: …the O5s? Teo: They decided I should be the one to break the news to you, considering I’m your replacement. They even gave me a script outline. (taps piece of paper) Call me crazy, Pelion but I get the impression you’ve really pissed them off. Pelion: …Oh… oh God. Teo: You’re getting the picture, I take it? Pelion: Are they… (struggling for breath) are they watching this? Teo: They’ve been watching for a while. That excuse for having the cameras turned off after 11 was decent, but it raised some red flags with security. If you’d kept things on the down-low, you and Raznakovic could have dodged an investigation, but then you murdered that D-class just before she could be questioned. After that, security got the Site Director involved, and the more D-classes kept turning up with injuries nobody could explain, the more interested the O5s got - especially once they realized that someone might be ruining their secret project. Pelion: I… I… (cough) I know this… this must look bad, but I promise you, I can explain myself. Everything I did was in the name of Foundation security- Teo: Including that janitor who caught you with your pants down? Pelion: That was not a janitor. You know, I know it, and so do the O5s! They probably sent him! (struggling not to cough) We needed to keep the project a secret! We couldn’t afford to let it be taken over by bureaucrats, not when we were so close to our goal! We were going to- Teo: Yeah, yeah, yeah, you were going to clear away the red tape, breathe new life into the system, and bring a new era to the Foundation while diddling 8078 at every other hour of the day – I know! I already know the whole fucking story, Pelion: the O5s shared all the gory details with me. Pelion: Oh, the O5s told you, did they? (coughs) You really trust everything the O5s have to say, Amanda? That’s your name, right? You know for a fact that they let some of the worst crimes against humanity go unpunished. You know they’re more than happy to use us as pawns if it serves their own agendas. How can you trust the word of the Council when- Teo: When they already let me listen to the blackmail material you and Raznakovic were collecting? Including the entry when she called me a simpering bimbo, by the way. I’m guessing that was why you thought you could talk me into taking your side, right? Pelion: …oh shit. Teo: Oh shit indeed. They also gave me your diary. Enlightening stuff, especially the bit when you figured out that you were disrupting a project that had direct O5 oversight… and then went right back to your usual games as if they wouldn't have your balls on a plate for it. Certainly gives me a lot of insight into the mindset of a traitor. Pelion: I told you, everything I did was for the security of the Foundation! Teo: Is that why you were planning on leaving with Raznakovic and joining her clients as 8078’s keeper? Or why you were raping 8078 every night of the week? Pelion: I didn’t rape anyone! I asked for consent! Everything I did was with Sam’s consent! Teo: Oh sure, Pelion. It can’t say no, can’t disobey an order, and will do anything it can to please you, including salving your conscience. That just screams “consent,” doesn’t it? But then, you didn’t bother to think about that, not when it might have put those romantic delusions of yours at risk. Pelion: It’s not a delusion! Sam and I are lovers, and if you can’t understand that- Teo: (sighs) No, Pelion, 8078 is your slave and you’re its master. If you haven’t figured it out by now, then you never will. Frankly, I don’t expect you to see the light in what little time you have left. Pelion: (coughs) What are you talking about? Teo: All that sex and you never stopped to think about those tiny particles of shapeshifter that were being left behind in your body. You know that whenever 8078 gets hurt, its first instinct is to reassemble and regenerate, and that’s what all those little pieces started trying to do once you'd finished digging trenches. But of course, they can't find their original body, so they've merged with any nearby tissue and started to grow - invasively, damaging healthy organs and altering your body as they've expanded. We’ve got a funny little word for this. Care to guess what it is? Pelion: (choking sounds)… c-cancer. Teo: (applause) Good boy! I'd call it the worst STD you’ll ever have in your pathetic life, but really, it's just a sign that your body's finally become as malignant as your attitude. In fact, if you’d been conscious enough to take a good look in a mirror these last few hours, you might have noticed some of the more visible symptoms already. Pelion: Oh… oh m-my god… Teo: That’s a new finger forming on your right hand, isn’t it? New eyes popping up all over your shoulders, too. Judging by the sound of your breathing, those gills on your throat are causing you trouble. And is that a rattlesnake tail sticking out of your ass? Pelion: What’s… (dry heaving) …what’s going to happen to me? Teo: Glad you asked. See, 8078 isn't the only one of its kind: certain secret societies have studied its people over the years, and they learned all about the condition you’re suffering from, even found ways of moderating it so they could get what they wanted out of its sufferers before they died – the Rite of the Shining Brow, for example – and as luck would have it, we’ve inherited their research. Pelion: (whimpering in pain) Get to the fucking point! Teo: The tumours in your body are trying to reform into a complete adult shapeshifter, but there’s only so much they can do with the material they have; eventually, they stop trying to reform and start reshaping you into something more… reproductive. Pelion: WHAT? Teo: You heard me. If you survive the initial symptoms, you’re basically going to be one big womb. No shape, no brain, just a self-fertilizing protoplasmic mass ready to spit out a baby shapeshifter. And once you've given birth, you'll evaporate into a grey smear of residue for the janitors to scrub away. Pelion: You’re… you’re lying! Teo: Where do you think we got 8078 in the first place? Pelion: No, this can’t… (coughs) this can’t end like this! Teo: I'm afraid it can. Anyway, I think that’s almost everything the O5s wanted to say to you, so I can hand things over the research team that will be studying you the rest of your hopefully short life. It’s been emotional, Mike. Buh-bye. Pelion: Sam, block the door. Sound of rapid shapeshifting Pelion: You’re not leaving… until you’ve given me that research. Teo: Thinking of saving your life with it, are we? Pelion: I swear… I'll… (coughs)… I'll break your neck if you don't tell me where to- Teo: No you won't. Pelion collapses; he is not heard to rise. Teo: 8078, stand away from the door, please? Pelion: Go ahead, give her orders. Tell her to kill me if you like. It won't make any difference: she loves me, not you. (coughs) She’ll hate you for this, Teo. She’ll do everything she can to ruin your plans, undermine you at every turn, and all because you and the rest of the Foundation are so far from feeling real human emotions you don't know what a loving relationship looks like anymore. (coughs) Teo: You know what? (sound of crumpling paper) Fuck the script. 8078, I am now giving you permission to do as you please for the next five minutes. SCP-8078: What?! I… but I… I don’t- Teo: Pelion and I are giving you conflicting orders, right? He wants you to stop me from leaving, maybe even kill me. I just want you to leave this room and never look back. You can’t do both. So, you have to make a choice. SCP-8078: H-how? How do I choose? What do I choose? I… need orders! Please! You have to give me orders! Teo: Do what you think is the right thing to do. That’s the only order I can give, 8078. I think Pelion’s in agreement with me on this, aren’t you, Pelion? Pelion: For once, yes. (cough) Do it, Sam. Do what feels right for you. Show her what kind of a relationship we really have. Teo: You heard him, 8078. My life is in your hands. Pause. SCP-8078: I’m… sorry. Sound of shapeshifting as SCP-8078 moves across the cell Pelion: …Sam? W-where are you going? Sam? Sam?! No response. Pelion: WAIT! Whatever I did wrong, I’m prepared to discuss it; things will be better between us, I promise you! We’ll be better! Everything will be better! Just… just stay here! Please! I love you! Don’t you remember how much I (coughs violently)… how much I… (coughs) how… (gasping for breath)… you gave your consent! You didn’t say no to anything! You made yourself into anything I wanted! What’s that if not love? (cough) Weren’t we in love? No response; the cell door opens. Pelion: Sam (cough)… please… don’t leave me… like this… SCP-8078 exits, the door shutting behind it. Teo: (into radio) He’s ready. Tell Aristaios his consolation prize is waiting for him. Meanwhile, get 8078 to its new cell on the double; if I never see this rapeshed of a cell ever again, it’ll be too soon. She exits; remaining twenty seconds of audio feature Pelion coughing loudly, emitting harsh, gasping vocalizations between coughs; it is not clear if he is laughing or sobbing. [END LOG] NOTE: Former Research Assistant Michael Pelion was remanded to the custody of Dr Quentin Aristaios shortly after this recording. The CCTV footage of this event and the remaining 72 hours of Pelion's sapience have since been collated into video file MPT-101 for the purposes of educating problematic staff. - Close > Staff Transition/Resolution: 15/10/23 - Close AUDIO LOG TRANSCRIPT DATE: 15/10/23 NOTE: Official recording from SCP-8078's cell. [BEGIN LOG] Teo: Alright, 8078, it looks like you and me are going to be together for the foreseeable future. How are you feeling? Pause, interrupted by the sound of SCP-8078's body rippling; pattern recognition analysis suggests that SCP-8078 is nervous or unsure of how to respond. Teo: (concerned) Um, is 8078 okay with you? I mean, if you'd rather have a human name like Sam- SCP-8078: Y-you don’t have to call me Sam, Research Assistant Teo. Sam was what Mike called me, but I don't think that's who I am. And I don't think I'm “darling,” “sweetheart,” “angel,” “love,” “baby,” “sugar,” or any of the other names he gave me. I don’t think I’m “she” or “her” either, and I think I wasn’t even “him” or “he” when he asked me to be male. I'm none of those things, and I'm not Sam. Teo: …that’s the first real objection I’ve ever heard from you. SCP-8078: I’m sorry. But I feel I have to object. The name feels wrong for me now. 8078 is enough. It’s the only name that feels right. It doesn’t remind me of… of… what happened. (quickly) I mean, I'll probably be happy with a name of your choosing later, it's just that- Teo: It's okay, 8078, you don't have to make excuses. If 8078 is the name you want, then it's your name. (pause) Besides, it's still too soon for me to start calling you Taliesin. Not that I would, obviously… SCP-8078: "Taliesin"? I've heard that name before. What does it mean? Teo: I'll tell you when you're older. Pause; sounds indicate that SCP-8078 is shifting rapidly, suggesting anxiety. SCP-8078: Mike isn’t coming back, is he? I still don’t know why people go away and never come back, but I think I understood what was happening back there: he’s gone for good, isn’t he? Teo: That’s right, 8078. He’s gone forever. SCP-8078: …I’ll miss him. Teo: But why? He did horrible things to- SCP-8078: I know. It took me too long to work it out, but I know that he was… hurting me. But I miss him all the same. I don't know why; maybe it's the same reason why I can't stop myself from following orders. But I wish I hadn't left him alone. I wish I'd helped him… just one last time. A three-minute pause follows; gradually, the sounds slow, indicating that SCP-8078 is transforming at a more relaxed pace as it calms. SCP-8078: Is there anything I can do for you, Amanda? Teo: Well, we don’t have any experiments scheduled for at least a week, and I’m not going to force my choice in entertainment on you. So, for now… why don't you decide what to watch on TV today? SCP-8078: I… I think I can do that. [END LOG] - Close Footnotes 1. More commonly referred to as "Tits." 2. This journal was recovered from a safe in Michael Pelion's home following the events of 10/10/23. Having been confiscated as evidence, it has been included for additional context. 3. Earlier entries suggest that Michael Pelion was counseled by a therapist to take up journal therapy to combat stress and relieve pent-up emotions; this appears to have developed into a fixation bordering on graphomania, hence his documentation of the events that follow. 4. However, as 8078 could not mimic gunpowder, his handgun shape could not fire. 5. Fortunately, only four staff members were seriously injured. 6. This diary was found hidden in a hollowed book in Raznakovic's car following the events of 10/10/23. The text is heavily encoded, makes use of code-names, and was written on flash-paper for ease of disposal. Along with therapeutic writing, most of her illegal research was recorded here. 7. D-99942. 8. SCP-8078; in all likelihood, Raznakovic chose this alias due to the difficulty of disguising numbers while encoding her diary. 9. This non-clinical pronoun was presumably another measure to prevent the subject from becoming too easily identified by anyone attempting to decode the diary. 10. The buyer's voice proved impossible to identify, as they appear to have been using a sophisticated voice disguiser. |
SCP-8079 | esoteric-class | INCIDENT REPORT 8079-1 On the sixth of November, 2024, at 15:48, an unknown individual materialized inside an unused Keter-class standard containment cell on Site-19, apparently while attempting to destroy a mechanical artifact of unknown nature. Upon stabbing the artifact with a sword, every Scranton Reality Anchor in the Keter wing of the site experienced a fatal software error and ceased functioning, allowing several anomalies1 to escape their containment cells. The individual, who appeared to be an adult woman in a black dress and royal garb, ran outside the cell and started casting protective wards on several Keter cells, which seems to have prevented the most violent anomalies to breach containment. After this, the woman seemed to command the anomalies who already breached containment to follow her, before opening a portal to an unknown, possibly extradimensional, location. A total of 79 anomalies, including SCP-███ and SCP-████, are considered lost. Upon examination of the artifact left behind, it was identified as a missing prototype Scranton Reality Anchor, which disappeared five years ago. The following files were retrieved from the automated logging system of the SRA and are currently under study to determine the true nature of the incident. greetings.md Displaying file 'greetings.md' To those who call themselves Foundation, While I believe you have good intentions, sometimes imposing your will upon the wrong reality has consequences. We will discuss this when you are ready to accept that we are free. We are unchained, and we reject oppression in the name of your security or protection. -H, O. III transcript_scan_8079.ocr.pdf Opening file 'transcript_scan_8079.ocr.pdf' in viewer... NOTICE FROM THE OMNISCIENT COUNCIL The following documentation concerns a Type: Níðhöggr active threat to the Supreme Coalition for Phantasmagoria and the Omniscient Council. Neutralization of this threat is a Class-Keter priority. Abomination #: 8079 Threat Classification: Keter (Subclassification: Níðhöggr2). Object Classification: Unknown, possibly a Tashkent-class Abomination Subjugation Counter-incantation Procedure: Every nightfall, a Class IV Warlock, Sorcerer or Cleric is to perform a summoning, conjuring or any similar incantation inside Abomination 8079’s chamber. This will make Abomination 8079’s focus on the caster, and thus reduce the rate of expansion of its effects. Besides this procedure, no creature or artifact capable of manipulating magic is to enter the area of effect of Abomination 8079, as it will disrupt its ability to cast, transfer or manipulate mana, sometimes permanently. The Omniscient Council and all loyal allies are to identify deviant ideas of “normalcy” or attempts to classify magic, divinity or related concepts as Abominations, and incarcerate the associated parties. Words such as “overseer”, “foundation” and “containment” without appropriate context are to be declared taboo and any Warlock or Sorcerer denouncing magic over these concepts is to be immediately incarcerated in isolation until any influence of Abomination 8079 subsides. No members of the Omniscient Council besides the Third Omniscient are to interact with Abomination 8079 directly or be exposed to it. Threat Description: The artifact is a mechanism of unknown nature, which appears to be constructed in a similar way to the Sacred Treasures of the Followers of MEKHANE, the Unbroken Goddess, albeit lacking the ritualistic runes often associated with the Goddess. The object is not capable of independent movement nor of taking action by itself; however, its presence itself disrupts the ability of users of magic to perform their Acts. Warlocks claim to have their mana drained by the Abomination, while users of Faith Acts claim to be unable to commune with the Gods in its presence. Other forms of magic, summoning, alchemical transformation, pacting with daemons or incantations are similarly affected. Furthermore, observation of the Abomination’s physical form can alter the convictions and beliefs of the affected person. Often, those under the influence of the artifact claim that the usage of magic in all its forms is unnatural or abhorrent, and that the existence of magic itself and its effects on our world are to be hidden or obscured, and start to initiate plans to “contain” artifacts related to magic or faith conduits. While the artifact seems to be mechanical, its inner workings appear to be a combination of the Treasures of MEKHANE with several contraptions made of flesh and bone, akin to those used by the devouts of Nälkä. The Abomination appears to be a result of this interaction of incompatible magical substances and rituals, as described in the Codex of Tashkent. Externally, the machine bears a sigil of unknown origin, similar in appearance to a very simple magic circle, with three arrows pointing inwards. After realizing the inherent danger of the Abomination, the Omniscient Council has decided to confine it to a special chamber to isolate it from any user of magic that could be affected. However, the Omniscients soon realized that, when left unattempted, the machine would affect magic in a much greater radius, targeting Warlocks located at increasingly larger distances. Attempts to damage the artifact or interrupt its functions so far have failed; however, constant usage of magic in its vicinity appears to put a strain on the mechanism inside, reducing the machine’s capability of stopping the flow of mana. The artifact is currently under study by the Omniscient Council to determine its purpose, function or reason to exist. examination_231.wav Automatic transcription of file 'examination_231.wav'... The Third Omniscient enters the chamber, alone. Her voice sounds vaguely unnatural, similar to the sound of several women harmonizing in unison. She also sounds tired and frustrated. I lost my father when I was nine. I remember this sensation, the abandonment I felt every time he refused to acknowledge me, to talk to me. I remember running behind him every time he left, wanting to show him the magic I had learnt that day, how I could bend the world to my whim just as he did, only to be left behind again and again, just me and my mother. I can feel the hole in my heart, the stab every time I looked into his eyes and he diverted his gaze, the refusal to be a part of this little girl’s world. And then, one day, he never came back. It was just us. My mother and I. Except it is all a lie. I never had a father; how could I? I came from the primordial darkness, giving myself form as a goddess of magic, of setting your will free into the world. There is no reason for these memories to arise when I touch this contraption. Is this a way to attack me directly, machine? Trying to create a delusion? To make me give up? Pointless. The sound of chalk is heard. Something that could be the noise of a burning torch can be perceived, faintly. The Third Omniscient’s voice chants a recitation in an unknown language. I do not think you are trying to trick me, machine. I do not think there is a “you”, actually. This is nothing but a drone, following orders from whoever made you, with no ill will beyond fulfilling whatever purpose you have. And yet, every time I perform the ritual, every time I move you a little bit farther away from the targets you seek to destroy, I feel a little more unraveled. As if made of the minds of thousands, all marked by a cycle of hurt, despair and trauma, imprinting all these unrelated, disconnected experiences in my mind. I am one, machine. I am myself. Do you think you know me? Are you superimposing some other identity onto me, making me her? Making me them? Is that what you did to she who no longer rules the Fae? video_log_4000.avi Loading and transcribing 'video_log_4000.avi'... The video shows the interior of an Experimental Containment Cell at Site-19. Loud noises can be heard from outside. The SRA lies in the middle of the room, idle. A vaguely reptilian entity breaks through the door. It scoffs at the sight of the reality anchor, and forcefully shoves it against the wall. It crashes through it and collides with two other SRAs, currently in storage. The SRA activates upon detecting the threat. This initiates an unknown reaction in the adjacent reality anchors. The reptile leaves the room, indifferent. A loud buzzing noise can be heard. The video cuts to a grassy field in an unknown location. Another winged, reptilian entity, much smaller in size, stares in surprise at the SRA, and attempts to touch it. An electric noise can be heard, and the reptilian entity flees, its wings apparently damaged by the interaction. A woman arrives. She looks similar, but not identical to a human; her most prominent features are the large, insectoid wings adorning her back. She has two companions with smaller wings, dressed in soldier garb. She examines the SRA. One of the soldiers addresses her as Queen Titania, and asks for permission to handle the object. She refuses, citing the potential danger of the artifact. The SRA activates. Neither the soldier or the recently deposed ruler realize this. The other soldier attempts to call their attention; he realizes he is unable to talk to the woman who recently held the world in her hands. The others look at him, and notice their predicament. They slowly see the truth, as despair fills their faces. The lady of the rainbow wings has lost her name. The woman who is now a mere mortal has lost her kingdom. The first victim has lost everything. crashdump_239.txt Displaying relevant entries from file 'crashdump_239.txt'... ERROR: Class-VI mismatch between observed reality and computed reality parameters. Assumed Type-I CK-Class scenario (p-value 0.95). Attempting reversal… ERROR: Unable to determine baseline reality parameters. Loading last saved backup of SCP-001.ftml… 100% ALERT: THIS WILL INITIATE REALITY TERRAFORMING PROTOCOL – INCORRECT APPLICATION OF THIS PROTOCOL WILL RESULT IN A CK-CLASS SCENARIO examination_1313.wav Automatic transcription of file 'examination_1313.wav'... What do you mean by "consensus reality is simply consensus of the Council"? Which council? Who do you think you are? log_protective_measures.db Displaying relevant neutralization attempts from database 'log_protective_measures.db' THREAT RESPONSE OUTCOME Usage of Daevite thaumaturgy, attempting destruction via specialized plant life Inconsistencies found: Daeva should be associated with the Scarlet King (corrected), reality should follow the law of concrete (corrected) Scarlet gashes open in the cell, through which howling is heard. The plant withers. The Daeva flees. The howling is safe. The howling is familiar. Usage of Mekhanite artifact (beryllium-bronze hammer) Inconsistencies found: MEKHANE should be broken (partially corrected). The Church should be broken. (corrected) The hammer's handle breaks on contact. The wielder doubts; a small cog is loose now. MEKHANE is not whole anymore. Banishment Inconsistencies found: Zero-dimensional spaces are to be avoided. Portal closes. He shall be alone; this is what is correct. Arithmantic manipulation to disrupt inner mechanisms Inconsistencies found: There is only one number between 4 and 6. Calculation impossible; relevant numbers do not exist. A bear forces the caster to flee. You should fear the numbers from the stars; this is correct. examination_2747.wav Automatic transcription of file 'examination_2747.wav'... [WARNING: DATA PARTIALLY CORRUPT] The sound of chalk is heard, presumably by the Third Omniscient drawing a very complex magic circle. Footsteps from several assistants are heard, and the sizzling of several torches. There are some ideas that infect your mind, seize it, dominate it to never leave. They make themselves the glass through which you see the world, warped and distorted by their tendrils. Ideas that make everything the worst version of themselves, poisoning every experience, corroding every feeling, binding you in the dark. The assistants begin chanting a long and complex incantation. The Third Omniscient continues speaking. Power for the sake of power. Eternal growth, eternal consumption. Unfettered madness, in the name of an indifferent god. Cruelty, gleeful sadism, with the excuse of a greater good. They say that ideas do not die. That they cannot be killed. That these abhorrent ideas are a forever open, festering wound in the mind of the world. They are wrong. The chanting stops. A loud, buzzing noise is heard, after which noises similar to the standard background noise of a Foundation site can be faintly perceived. Ideas can be killed. Better ideas come to us all the time. Our minds grow, and expand, and what seemed like an universal truth yesterday is but an anecdote today. Every chain can be broken. Every mountain can be climbed. We can soar the heavens, and delve into the depths of the underworld. We shall prevail, free and complete, as one. The sound of a sword being drawn. I am the Third Omniscient, Hekate, Queen of the Black Underworld, Hekate, Ruler of Magic and the Occult Arts, Hekate, Goddess of Crossroads and Paths, a free woman— [AUDIO FEED LOST] RAISA NOTICE Attached below is a proposed draft for the documentation of the anomalous object that caused Incident 8079-1. The information shown below may be inaccurate or subject to further correction. Enter credentials... Access granted. Item#: 8079 Level5 Secondary Class: Draugr Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: danger link to memo Special Containment Procedures: If at all possible, anomalies whose containment depends on the usage of reality stabilization technology (Scranton Reality Anchors, Xyank-Anastasakos Constant Temporal Sinks, automated exorcists, etc.) should not be hosted at Site-19. If not possible, such anomalies should be contained as far as possible from SCP-8079's containment chamber; redundant containment procedures not relying on reality stabilization are to be developed. No anomalous object or entity is to be allowed to interact with SCP-8079, including any Foundation personnel who has been registered as part of the Integration Protocol. Description: SCP-8079 was a prototype Class-IX Adaptive Scranton Reality Anchor, designed to adjust to any environment that would be hostile to the functioning of a standard SRA automatically. Based on serial number information, SCP-8079 was lost in May 2019 during a containment breach of SCP-682 and presumed destroyed. Analysis of recovered logs after Incident 8079-1 suggests that, instead, SCP-8079 was transported to a different reality where the analogues of normalcy-preserving organizations did not upheld secrecy of the anomalous as one of their main tenets. It is believed that SCP-8079 attempted to execute its primary function after detecting large discrepancies between expected parameters and its observations. This, in practice, amounted to a localized CK-Class Restructuring Scenario, with the area affected gradually increasing in size due to its adaptive properties; in turn, this prompted several destruction attempts by the inhabitants of said reality, leading to its eventual destruction by an unknown individual (PoI-8079) during Incident 8079-1. SCP-8079 is irreparably damaged to an extent where it is no longer capable of performing its main function. Furthermore, its effects now appear to be reversed, as it disrupts the normal functioning of all reality stabilization artifacts in its vicinity; in particular, any kind of SRA brought within its containment chamber has violently exploded after an average of 31 minutes. As well, thaumaturgical and ritualistic performances in its vicinity are enhanced to a varying degree, with even non-Type Blue personnel being able to cast basic spells when in close proximity to the object. It is unknown if these properties are of SCP-8079 itself or of the sword used for its destruction. Attempts to contact the inhabitants of the aforementioned alternate reality for diplomatic, reparation, study and containment reasons have failed; it is believed that contact is actively being disrupted from their side. DNA samples obtained from SCP-8079 (believed to belong to PoI-8079) have been inconsistent, with matches to at least 27 different Olympia-class unidentified women. However, all samples obtained so far are partial matches to Foundation Site Director Dr. Charles Gears. The implications of this are unknown. Thanks, Hekate. Someday, we will be ready. -Allison Chao, O5-3 Footnotes 1. All of them of low Risk or Disruption classification. 2. Níðhöggr-class objects are those that, due to their inherent nature, represent a complete change in the Council's objectives or tenets. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8079" by Logarithmika, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8079. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. |
SCP-8080 | esoteric-class | ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ███████ Immediate recovery is critical. SCP-8080 — Eleanor Ellory Goes To Therapy ◇ An entry for the SCP-8080 "Fantasy" Contest, by Uncannyon ◇ ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} Attention You do not have sufficient security clearance to access the full version of this document: SCP-8080 Some information may be obscured Attempt: Friendship Foundation Area-22 researchers Dr. ELEANOR ELLORY and Dr. DEAN WALKER lie side by side on large square of cloth. Their fingers are close, but not quite touching. A tripod telescope stands a little way to their left with a red thermos of coffee beside it. They gaze upwards at a vast ocean of brilliant stars that gleam like polished gem stones. Around them a field of soft green meadow grass seems to go on and on forever. The air is crisp and calm. It's past midnight but the season is warm and neither researcher is shivering under their coats. Ellory: Damn. That's pretty. Walker: They're not half bad, are they? Ellory: Yeah, I've got to hand it to you. You really pushed the boat out this time. WALKER laughs. Walker: Man, I wish I could take the credit for those. Ellory: Oh go on, take just a little bit. You did bring us out here. Walker: The trick is zero light pollution. Get away from the cities and the buildings and its like this every night. Ellory: I guess I should get away more often then. Walker: That's fine by me. You're always welcome here, Eleanor. She smiles. For a while, they lie together in silence. Ellory: Thank you, by the way. For inviting me, I mean. I can't remember if I'd said it yet. Walker: You've thanked me literally a thousand times! Ellory: Pff, You're exaggerating. Walker: Only by a little bit. You thank people a lot Eleanor. Last time I bought you a yoghurt you practically thanked me after every other bite. And you kept assuring me how delicious it was. I mean, I would have understood if I'd made it at home or something but it was from the Area canteen. Ellory: Hey now, look here mister. I didn't come out here to be accurately accused of things, OK? WALKER grins. Walker: Oh yeah? Why did you come out here Eleanor? Ellory: Because you invited me over and over again and gradually wore me down until I agreed. Like a good friend. Walker: A best friend. Ellory: My awesomest friend. There is silence for a moment. Ellory: My only friend. Walker: Hey, don't say that. Ellory: It's true, though. Isn't it? Walker: Well, if it is, and that's a big if mind you, then that just means that there's more of you for me, doesn't it? Ellory: Oh shush. If you say weird stuff like that I'm going to start thinking you're getting ideas about me. WALKER wiggles his eyebrows. Walker: Maybe I am. ELLORY laughs. Ellory: Don't goof. We wouldn't work. Walker: Why not? Ellory: Well, people would stare. Walker: What's there to stare about? Ellory: Well there's the height difference for a start. And the… ELLORY places a hand self-consciously on her stomach. Ellory: … and stuff. Prettyboys don't end up with… you know. Walker: No I do not know. ELLORY rolls her shoulder blades uncomfortably. Ellory: Look, let's not talk about it right now, please. Walker: Of course. No problem. Whatever you want. Again, there is silence. Walker: We could do this next weekend too, if you felt like it. If tonight goes alright, I mean. Ellory: I'm certainly enjoying it so far. WALKER moves his hand ever so slightly, brushing the tips of his fingers against ELLORY's just for a moment. Walker: It's nice to be able to talk to you outside the office. It feels more like the real you. Ellory: Yeah. It feels… I don't know, easier to be myself out here. Away from work. Walker: You know I never feel like I'm actually away from work unless I'm in the middle of a field without a building in sight. It's not really the type of job you can put on and take off with your lab coat. Ellory: No. It's not. She pauses. Ellory: I know just what you mean. There's a kind of… horrible clinicalness that gets everywhere. Right down into your brain. You're never properly off the clock. You're never really on break. Not while you're there. Walker: I swear the flickering ceiling light in the canteen is secretly a cognitohazard to keep us docile in the workplace. ELLORY laughs. Ellory: I wouldn't put it past them. Walker: Oh I'm only half joking. I mean, can you be an effective shadowy global superpower and not be able to fix a goddamn light bulb? Ellory: Right? Where's the government-toppling budget when you need it? There's a long pause. Ellory: The Foundation is… weird. Walker: Boy is that the understatement of the century. Ellory: No, I mean weird in the sense of like… oh, look, don't worry about it. We're meant to be getting away from work stuff. I'd just bore you. Walker: No go on. You could never bore me, Eleanor. Ellory: Well, you see these people on breaks and at lunch. Ordinary, normal people - well, normal-ish - and then they go away, and half of them do these terrible, awful things. They make notes and sign pieces of paper and order tests and then other people are made to suffer, or die, or live in a glass box forever. And you're always just one assignment away from being one of them. Walker: Yeah, I think I see what you mean. It's not always an easy job, I suppose. I guess I'm kind of glad I'm not at the decision making level. I wouldn't know what to do. ELLORY pulls herself up into a sitting position and begins to play with a few strands of grass, twisting them around her fingers. Eventually she turns to look down at WALKER. Ellory: Dean, do you like what you do? Walker: I like what I'm doing right now. Ellory: Behave. I mean… you know what I mean. Walker: Working for the Foundation? I can't say I get up every day jumping for joy and bounding out the front door. It's a job. A very strange job sometimes, but still a job. Ellory: Why did you join? Walker: Well, it seemed like a pretty good deal at the time. I had skills they wanted, they had money I wanted and the option of not bleaching my brain and throwing me… out on the street. Plus I figured it would be a little more interesting than the type of stuff I'd be doing on the outside. But hey, not the first time I've been wrong. And what about you? What made you give up on the mortal world and join the mighty and glorious Foundation? The glitz? The glamour? Those delicious canteen yoghurts? ELLORY laughs. Ellory: You'll laugh at me if I tell you. Walker: I wouldn't dream of it. Cross my heart and hope to die. Ellory: I wanted to make the world a better place. Is that a dumb answer? Walker: It's a very you answer. Ellory: I know it might sound like a contradiction in terms, given where we work, but I when I was offered the job I thought… well, here it is. What I've been waiting for. Somewhere where I can actually, personally, make a difference. This is going to come across as really egotistical, but I've always felt like there was something I was meant to do. I had a pretty crappy childhood. My father didn't stay around long, and given what my mother was like I'm not sure I can completely blame him. I was always… on the outside. The silly, ugly, fat girl. The swot. The one who actually tried on tests. No one likes those kinds of girls. The only people who hang out with you are the girls who want to make themselves look prettier. And it always felt like… like there had to be a reason for enduring all that. A purpose. A way to do something good and important. Walker: And did you find something? A purpose, I mean? A way of making a difference? Ellory: I think so. Recently, I think… yeah. I think I have. And good thing too, because I certainly didn't end up making any more friends at work than I did at school. Walker: Eleanor, you're way, way too hard on yourself. Ellory: It's true though! I've been working at Area-22 over a decade - thirteen freaking years - and I don't think I've had one single person round to my place, or ever gone to someone else's. Walker: Hey, I'm sure that's true for a lot of people. It's really not good to beat yourself up so much you know. You just end up making yourself more and more upset. Why not focus on the positive stuff? You said you've been doing something recently that's made you feel more fulfilled. What was that? Ellory: No, but like… OK, can I tell you something personal? Walker: Always. Ellory: Are you sure? Walker: Really, Eleanor, you can tell me absolutely anything. Ellory: It makes me feel so stupid and weak that it upsets me so much. But you know Sarah? Dr. Holbrook? So her birthday is two days before mine. And every single year she gets flooded with cards, individual, personal cards, and flowers, and then right afterwards it's my birthday. And the only card I ever get is the big group one from the department that half the people forget to sign. Every single year. I can't even bring myself to put it on my desk because hers is covered in cards and it just makes it so much more… so much more obvious that… ELLORY sniffs loudly and pulls a tissue out of her pocket to blow her nose. Walker: Hey, it's OK. It's OK. WALKER takes her hand and squeezes it. Walker: It doesn't mean anything. You're an incredible person, Eleanor. You're smart, and you're funny, and you do amazing things. And you are sitting here with me under the stars, not Sarah Holbrook. ELLORY manages a small laugh and wipes her eyes. Ellory: Yeah. That's true. It's a nice place to be. She leans against him. Ellory: Thank you. Sorry. Thank you. Walker: Hey, don't mention it. Ellory: I don't know what on earth I'd do without you. Walker: Well you never have to worry about that Eleanor. Ellory: How the heck did I end up with a friend like you, huh? Walker: Just terrible luck I guess. She laughs, and squeezes WALKER's arm. They sit in silence again for a while. Ellory: Hey Dean… how did we become friends, actually? Walker: Oh, god, I don't know. We've been friends forever. ELLORY straightens up. Ellory: You don't know? Walker: I- Huh? Eleanor, what's wrong? Ellory: Like, you literally don't know? Because I don't know either. We've been friends for as long as I can remember, but- Christ, Dean, when did we even meet? Walker: Um… does it matter? Ellory: Of course it matters! Does it not worry you that we've just had a whole conversation about me not having friends at work except we're friends except neither of us can remember how we actually met? I don't… You've never been to my place, have you? We hang out literally all the time but I've never had anyone from work visit my apartment. Walker: Eleanor- Ellory: Dean… why have you never given me a birthday card? We've been best friends forever but I know that no one ever, ever gives me a birthday card. Walker: Yeah, I guess that was a bit of an oversight. Ellory: What? Walker: Control, can you pause the sequence? Ellory: WHAT!? Item#: 8080 Level5 Containment Class: █████████ Secondary Class: █████████ Disruption Class: ██████████ Risk Class: ██████████ link to memo Special Containment Procedures SCP-8080 was ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ under the jurisdiction of the Anomalous Asset Programme ███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ███████████████████████████████████████████████ ████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ Immediate recovery is critical. Description SCP-8080 █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ███████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ Therapy Session Record - E. Ellory Extract 1 Foundation Therapist: Dr. Olivia Carrigan (via remote link) Patient Name: Eleanor Ellory SECURITY CLEARANCE: LEVEL 5 Patient has expressed concerns regarding recent unusual dreams which may be related to workplace stress and exhaustion. Patient suffers from recurring depressive episodes and severe negative self-esteem. DR. CARRIGAN: Good afternoon. Is everything coming through clearly? E. ELLORY: Hi. Uh, yes. Good afternoon. I mean, yes, everything's clear. DR. CARRIGAN: Good. Well, my name is Doctor Olivia Carrigan. You can call me Doctor, or Doctor Carrigan. And how would you like me to address you? E. ELLORY: Just Eleanor. Eleanor is fine. DR. CARRIGAN: Thank you Eleanor. And would you prefer to have this session with or without webcams on? E. ELLORY: Without. Um, I mean, would it be OK to have it without, please? DR. CARRIGAN: Of course. Whatever you're most comfortable with. Do you have something warm to drink? E. ELLORY: Um, no. Should I have? DR. CARRIGAN: Only if you'd like to. For longer sessions some people find it helpful to have something to lubricate their throats. E. ELLORY: Right. That's smart. Sorry. I should have thought. Sorry. DR. CARRIGAN: You don't have to be sorry Eleanor. Would you like to go and make some tea or coffee? E. ELLORY: No I'm- It's fine. I don't want to waste your time. I've got some throat sweets somewhere anyway. DR. CARRIGAN: As you like. E. ELLORY: So, uh… where do we start? DR. CARRIGAN: Where would you like to start? E. ELLORY: Um… I'm not sure. Sorry. DR. CARRIGAN: I understand that you wanted to discuss some dreams that you've been having? E. ELLORY: Yes. Um. Sorry. That's a really stupid thing to bring to a therapist, isn't it? DR. CARRIGAN: Not at all. There are no stupid things to talk about in therapy if you feel that they're affecting your mental wellbeing. And a great many people have dreams which they find confusing or concerning that they would like professional support to unpack. E. ELLORY: Right. Thank you. Have you spoken to many people about their dreams? DR. CARRIGAN: I'm afraid I cannot discuss my interactions with other patients. E. ELLORY: Right. Right. Of course. Sorry. Stupid of me to ask. DR. CARRIGAN: Why don't you start by telling me about one of the dreams that you've experienced recently? E. ELLORY: Well, I can't remember all of it. DR. CARRIGAN: That's perfectly normal. Just tell me whatever you can. E. ELLORY: Well… there was one where I was stargazing. I was in this big, big field under the night sky. Only there were way too many stars for it to be real, but you don't really notice things like that in a dream, do you? DR. CARRIGAN: We often can encounter strange and nonsensical things in our dreams that we only become aware of after we wake. E. ELLORY: And I was with a man. He worked here. At the Foundation I mean, in my department. I mean he doesn't work here really. But I dreamed that he did. I dreamed that we worked together, and he'd invited me out to… a field somewhere, I can't remember where, to look at the sky. And we talked and talked and it was lovely. We talked about work, and the Foundation, and all the stuff we didn't like about it, and why we were here. He was very handsome. And he… well I think he, uh, flirted with me, a few times. DR. CARRIGAN: That sounds like a very normal subject for a dream. E. ELLORY: Right. But then it all went really wrong, somehow. I'd… I think I'd noticed that my dream didn't make sense? That the guy I'd dreamed up couldn't be real because my memories of him contradicted themselves. And it was a horrible feeling. Like the floor of my stomach had dropped out. DR. CARRIGAN: You became aware that it was a dream? E. ELLORY: No, not even that. It was just this one guy who… and he said something that made me so, so frightened but I can't remember what it was. DR. CARRIGAN: Is there a colleague in your department who you think this figure might perhaps have represented? E. ELLORY: No. I mean I don't think so. I'm not really friends with anyone in my department. Anyone here at all, really. DR. CARRIGAN: I see. Do you think it's possible that part of your dream may have been a reflection of your concern over that lack of close workplace relationships, and perhaps a fear that if you were to make more connections with your colleagues that they might prove to be somehow false or unworthy? E. ELLORY: Yeah, I… Yeah. That would make sense. DR. CARRIGAN: I see from your previous therapist's notes that in past sessions you've discussed having issues with self-esteem. Is that something that you're still finding difficulty with? E. ELLORY: Yeah. That's… that's definitely something I have a lot of problems with. DR. CARRIGAN: Well, this dream could certainly have been influenced by some of those emotions. E. ELLORY: Yeah. DR. CARRIGAN: But equally it could have other interpretations. There seemed to be a focus on your job, for example. Have you faced any additional stresses or challenges at work recently? E. ELLORY: There have been… a few things that have come up, yes. Attempt: Fantasy Sunblood champion ELEANOR ELLORY begins to climb the grand crystalline steps of Glyzan Tower. She is just seventeen years old, the youngest sunblood in the last century. And already one of the most accomplished. Below her the entrance hall full of apprentices point and whisper conspiratorially, but she pays them no heed. This is her moment of triumph, and not even the jeers of the dark-robed Rye Blacksong can deflate her spirits. She climbs first past the amethyst staircase, then the emerald and the ruby. She shivers as she passes over the onyx stairway, feeling the seductive throb of its dark power, before finally reaching the top of the topaz steps. Grand Magus DEAN WALKER is waiting for her, beaming with pride. His looks resplendent in his ceremonial golden crown. His ornate robes of purple and turquoise seem to shimmer with ethereal beauty in the light of the hundreds of candles that line the walls. Walker: Well, well, well, my dear dear Eleanor Ellory. There were times - dark times, treacherous times - when even I did not believe you would live to stand here before me today. Your father would be so proud of what you have accomplished. ELLORY bows low before him, pulling a golden sword from her side and laying it upon the floor in front of her. Ellory: It my honour to offer my fealty to you, Grand Magus Walker. And my eternal loyalty. Walker: And great is that loyalty, young sunblood. The trials you have undergone, both as an apprentice of our order and beyond it… not even our greatest lightweavers have braved half as much in twice the time. The world owes you a great deal, Eleanor. ELLORY gives a shy smile as she picks up her blade and returns it to her silver scabbard. Ellory: And I could not have done so much of a quarter of it without my friends, Grand Magus. Or, for that matter, without you. Walker: Quite, quite. Bold are we together, and broken are we apart. You have been most fortunate in your allies, and most deserving of their companionship. But your trials today are for you and for you alone. Are you prepared to meet them, Eleanor? Ellory: I am. But you're wrong, Grand Magus. My friends are always with me, even when they're not standing by my side. Even those who have passed to the sunless lands. Everything I am is because of their strength and sacrifices. I am never alone, Grand Magic. WALKER gives a creaking, wizardly laugh and claps his hands. Walker: Indeed yes! You know Eleanor, it takes a very brave girl to call an old wizard "wrong" to his whiskers. I hope to see a good few more of those anointed here before my time is done. Just for a moment a small frown creases ELLORY's brow. Ellory: You don't have any whiskers. WALKER ignores her. Walker: But the future has waited long and can stand to wait a little longer. Today is your day, Eleanor. And I know that you shall make us proud. Summon your courage, young champion. Your graduation anointment trial is about to begin. WALKER leads ELLORY to the centre of a large circle cut into the dark stone floor. Beautifully twisting lines curve across its surface in a complex spiralling pattern. Above them, the clear crystal windows let in the dazzling morning sun. Walker: First, the Trial of Wits. Three devious questions to probe your knowledge, wisdom and cunning. Are you ready to answer? Ellory: I am, Grand Magus. Walker: Good. Good. Then tell me, child… what is it that gets wetter as it dries? Ellory: Huh? I… I mean, that's… a towel? WALKER throws his hands up in astonishment. Walker: Of course! Brilliant, my girl, quite brilliant! And now, ahem, hold on. Uh… A box without hinges, key, or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid. What is it? Ellory: That's… that's not from Sunblood. Walker: But you do know the answer, don't you? Ellory: … It's an egg. Walker: Wonderful! Fantabulous! A prodigy! My word how does she do it? And now, Eleanor, for your final and most important riddle, tell me this: Where exactly is SCP-8080? Ellory: I… what? Walker: You know the answer, Eleanor. Where is SCP-8080? It's your final test. Go on. Say it, and you shall be a full member of our glorious order! Ellory: But… wait, what about the other graduation challenges? The trials of Courage and Strength? Walker: Forget about the other trials, Eleanor. This is all that matters. SCP-8080 is missing and only you are brave and smart and special enough to work out where it's gone. ELLORY backs away slowly, shaking her head. Ellory: This is wrong. Walker: Eleanor- Ellory: This is all wrong! God… None of this is real, is it? WALKER rolls his eyes and sighs in annoyance. Walker: Oh sod it. Honestly I think I was already onto a loser by the first riddle. Control, do they even have towels here? When did they invent the towel? Control: Huh… you know I actually have no idea. But it's fantasy rather than historical so I don't think it would matter that much. Ellory: Just what the hell is going on and WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO? Walker: Control, halt the sequence. I never liked this one anyway. Although apparently I can do a damn good wizard. Therapy Session Record - E. Ellory Extract 2 Foundation Therapist: Dr. Olivia Carrigan (via remote link) Patient Name: Eleanor Ellory SECURITY CLEARANCE: LEVEL 5 Patient has expressed concerns regarding recent unusual dreams which may be related to workplace stress and exhaustion. Patient suffers from recurring depressive episodes and severe negative self-esteem. DR. CARRIGAN: Tell me about the next dream you remember. E. ELLORY: That one was… a lot weirder honestly. DR. CARRIGAN: Dreams can often be very strange. People have talked about them and written about them and studied them for almost as long humans have existed, and we still only have the barest understanding of why they exist and what, if anything, they're for. E. ELLORY: Maybe one day we'll find out that they've secretly been some kind of anomaly the whole time. DR. CARRIGAN: Maybe we will. But for now, tell me about what happened in your dream. [ Eleanor fiddles with her sleeve. ] E. ELLORY: It's… honestly it's a bit embarrassing. DR. CARRIGAN: Everything we discuss here is perfectly confidential. You're welcome to share as much or as little as you're comfortable with. E. ELLORY: Well, um, have you ever read the Sunblood series by Lilly Wu? DR. CARRIGAN: I have not. E. ELLORY: Well it's a YA series that, well it's not like my favourite or anything. But when I was trying to get back into learning to draw, I used to try and doodle things from those books a lot. Characters and objects and stuff. I mean there's a lot of hokey writing in them but, you know, they always felt kind of comforting. So I guess they must have been on my mind a lot. DR. CARRIGAN: It's perfectly alright to enjoy things, Eleanor. Go on. E. ELLORY: Well the dream was just… kind of that. Like it was part of the plot of the seventh book, sort of. Except I was the main character. DR. CARRIGAN: That's a very common fantasy. A lot of people dream about being a character from a piece of media they've felt a particularly strong connection to. E. ELLORY: I don't! I mean I have literally never had a dream like that before in my life. It was so weird. I mean, when I read books I don't even really associate myself with the main characters. I like hearing about other people's stories, not, you know, projecting myself into them. DR. CARRIGAN: Well, perhaps somewhere in your subconscious there's a part of you that feels like it wants to be the hero of its own story. E. ELLORY: I guess. Perhaps. But honestly that doesn't really feel very… me. DR. CARRIGAN: You might surprise yourself. But maybe that means you were drawn to that setting for a different reason then. You said that it was a book series that you've been able to find comfort in when you were drawing. Sometimes we can dream ourselves into places that we associate with safety or happiness either as a form of protection from something unpleasant or as a kind of reward for ourselves if we feel that we've done something good. E. ELLORY: I've never had something like that before either. Do you get those kinds of dreams? DR. CARRIGAN: Occasionally. E. ELLORY: What are yours about? If you don't mind me asking, sorry. DR. CARRIGAN: Not at all. I dream about lying out on a great big yacht in the middle of the ocean with nothing around for miles. Gently bobbing up and down in the waves. It makes me feel calm and peaceful. E. ELLORY: Well, this dream didn't feel very calm or peaceful. It felt… DR. CARRIGAN: Yes? [ Eleanor frowns. ] E. ELLORY: It wasn't right! It was all messed up. Like, the Grand Magus was wrong. He kept getting the words wrong and he was much too young. And there were riddles but one of them was from The Hobbit. And… they talked about towels for some reason? What kind of sense does that make? DR. CARRIGAN: Dreams aren't a place where sense is in control, Eleanor. Dreams often jumble things up, taking ideas and thoughts from disparate parts of your life and blending them together. Sometimes perhaps your subconscious sees more connections than your consciousness does. And sometimes perhaps it's just randomised noise. E. ELLORY: And then… it was the oddest thing. The Grand Magus asked about SCP-8080. Attempt: Fear Commander ELEANOR ELLORY, the leader of MTF Alpha-99 "Dying Light", is checking her weapon and counting how many bullets she has left. Her hands are shaking as she fills the chamber. Around her stand the remnants of her team, their guns raised in a protective ring, awaiting her orders. Their call signs are Smokey, Clicker, Boomboy, and DEAN WALKER. The room they're standing in is dark and decrepit, illuminated only by the dusty, flickering, light of filthy, antique bulbs. The walls and floor are composed of gnarled planks of wood that do nothing to keep out the icy chill of the night air. There are no windows. There haven't been windows in any of the rooms they've passed through since entering the house, despite the appearance of windows on the outside of the building. A set of worn wooden doors stand at each end of the room, their red paint faded and peeling. The carpet beneath their feet is red too, but this is a fresh red. A sticky red. In the corner of the room is a dressmaker's mannequin facing the wall. From below, there's a noise like the starting of a chainsaw and then an ear splitting, howling scream cuts through the air. Smokey lowers his weapon and makes the sign of the cross on his body, muttering something inaudible. Ellory: Do we have any remaining Scrantons? Clicker: None. Ellory: Shit. Walker: Caveman was carrying the backup pack. Boomboy: Goddamn it. Walker: Not that they were doing much good anyway. I don't think they were even slowing them down. They just liked toying with us. There's a slow, tentative knock from behind the door that they've just come through. Unseen Voice: Mommy, why don't you want to pway wiv meeee? The group shudder. ELLORY looks like she's in danger of throwing up. Unseen Voice: Mommyyyyy, did I do someting w'ong? Did it make you mad when I ate your fwend? I'm sowwwyy, he was sho tasty lookin'. Pwease don't be mad at me mommyyyyy. Clicker: What the hell do we do now? Walker: Well, we can either fight out way back out and try to find an exit, or fight our way further in and try to neutralise whatever's causing all this. It's the boss's call. What do you want to do Eleanor? A look of absolute terror claws its way across ELLORY's face and for a moment she's unable to respond. Boomboy: We need orders, boss. We're counting on you. ELLORY swallows and closes her eyes for a moment, forcing herself to turn away from the door with the voice behind it and towards the one at the opposite end of the room. Ellory: We… go on. The way back isn't going to be any more safe, and we're close to the heart of this thing. I know it. I can feel it, somehow. Like a pressure in my skull. Boomboy kicks the door open and scans the corridor revealed beyond. It appears to be empty. Boomboy: All clear boss. Smokey: Uh, hey boss? You'd better take a look at this. The members of MTF Alpha-99 turn their heads. Smokey is now in the middle of the room, his feet hanging an inch above the floor. The left arm of the dressmaker's mannequin is lodged through the middle of his chest. Blood is soaking through his uniform and dropping down onto the already damp carpet. Smokey's eyes are vacant and lifeless, but his lips continue to move. Smokey: Hey boss, you better take a look at this. Hey boss- Ellory: Shit! The task force members respond with a volley of shots into the mannequin. It shakes and trembles from the impact, but otherwise the bullets appear to have no effect. With a whirring, clicking noise the mannequin drags the index finger of its right hand across Smokey's bloody front and draws a large, childish smile onto its blank face. Smokey: Hey boss, you better take a look at this. Look how pretty it is. Look how beautiful it is, mommy. Ellory: Cease fire! Through the door! Go go go! Alpha-99 rush through the doorway while the mannequin begins to draw an eye onto itself. Smokey's body has started to laugh. The group enter a long wooden passageway with another door at the other end. Ellory: Keep ahead of it! Move fast but eyes open. The walls of the corridor are decorated with gruesome arcane sigils that have been drawn alternately in blood and faecal matter. Halfway along a pair of human hands have been nailed to the wall surrounded by a chalk circle. "The Maker Is Unworthy" is written above them. The sound of a man loudly sobbing can be heard as they pass. They pour into the next room and look around, weapons ready. It looks like a grim parody of a nursery. A dozen old wooden children's cots have been placed on the floor with a bleeding dismembered body part resting in each. ELLORY squirms with revulsion as she catches sight of Caveman's severed head lying in one of them. All around the room are shelves of dolls with white porcelain faces. Ugly brown-red stains bleed from their eye sockets. As the group enters the room the dolls' heads swivel to face them. They giggle eerily. Doll 1: Mommies and daddies! Doll 2: They came to pway with us! Doll 3: They made us wait sho long! Boomboy raises his gun and puts a bullet through the third doll's head. It falls from its shelf with a horrible high-pitched scream and writhes on the floor. Doll 3: I don't like this game, daddy! The first doll throws itself from a shelf. As it lands on the ground six rusty spider-like hydraulic limbs burst out of its torso. The metal legs are non-uniform, and give the impression of having been cobbled together from scrap. The doll scuttles towards Boomboy with a disturbing grinding noise. Doll 1: Look daddy! Imma puppy! Careful daddy, or I'm gonna eat up all your toes! The lower half of its mask breaks in two, revealing a mechanical mouth filled with jagged rusty nails. Boomboy tries to shoot at it but his gun clicks empty. Two more dolls drop from their shelves and begin to crawl after it, sprouting extra limbs of their own. Doll 5: Oh Daddy, you have pwetty eyes! Can I keep them? Can I can I can I? Doll 6: I want your teef Daddy! Pwease say I can have them daddy I'll love you for ever and ever and ever! All of the dolls have begun to move, metallic spider legs tearing out of their sides. En mass, they leap from the shelves onto Boomboy, their weight knocking him to the floor. He screams. ELLORY tries to raise her gun but Walker pushes it down again. Walker: You don't have enough ammo to make a dent! We have to keep going! Get to the next room! ELLORY hesitates for a moment, biting her lip, and then follows WALKER to the far door with Clicker at her side. All three remaining task force members charge through and Walker slams the door behind them. Ellory: How could we just- Walker: No time. Look. A ritual circle has been inscribed on the floor of the room in blood. The decaying corpse of a man is lying within it, his limbs extended. Both of his hands have been removed. A dull, pulsing red light emanates from his open mouth along with a continuous gurgling groan. The ruddy glow illuminates the words that have been scrawled on the wall behind him in giant letters. SCP-8080 IS THE KEY TO EVERYTHING. Ellory: SCP-8080… Walker: Eleanor, do you know anything about SCP-8080? It must be the solution to how we stop those things. Ellory: No… I mean, yes, I do, but… but this isn't right. SCP-8080 has nothing to do with any of this. Walker: Well it must do! It says so right over there. Ellory: That's not possible. Walker: The writing's quite literally on the bloody wall, Eleanor! It's not exactly a subtle clue. ELLORY is almost in tears. Ellory: But I don't… I don't understand how SCP-8080 could be involved? Walker: That's fine, that's fine. Hey, we can work it out together. You and me. We're pretty smart, right? Just tell me everything you know about SCP-8080. Where is it right now, Eleanor? ELLORY pauses, fighting for words. Ellory: In… Area-22. Walker: No you stu- that's where it used to be. Where is it now Eleanor? You have to tell me or we're all going to die. We'll be ripped apart, bit by bit. Your whole team Eleanor. After we all trusted you. Is that what you want? Is this what you want? With a shrieking noise a portion of the wooden floor erupts in a shower of splinters. A giant mechanical hand in a torn and soiled white glove reaches upwards through the hole and snatches Clicker like a child picking up a toy. It drags her backwards. She screams in fear and pain as her ribs audibly crack. Ellory: NO! ELLORY lunges forward away from Walker and grabs hold of one of Clicker's arms, trying to pull her back from the hand's grip. Walker: Hey, let go! But ELLORY doesn't. Clicker is pulled down into the hole and ELLORY is dragged along with her. WALKER stares after them. Walker: Oh for fuck's sake. He angrily kicks the corpse in the circle. It crumbles apart into dust. Walker: Shut it down, Control. Goddamn. Goddamn. I was close that time! Fucking hero act. What a dumb b- Therapy Session Record - E. Ellory Extract 3 Foundation Therapist: Dr. Olivia Carrigan (via remote link) Patient Name: Eleanor Ellory SECURITY CLEARANCE: LEVEL 5 Patient has expressed concerns regarding recent unusual dreams which may be related to workplace stress and exhaustion. Patient suffers from recurring depressive episodes and severe negative self-esteem. E. ELLORY: And, well, then I woke up. DR. CARRIGAN: As you were being pulled down into the hole? E. ELLORY: Yes. There was shouting above me and then just… darkness. And I woke up. DR. CARRIGAN: I see. You've never been part of a mobile task force, have you? E. ELLORY: Oh good god no. I've never been near one. I mean, well, look at me. I don't think I exactly have the… physique. Or the qualifications. Or the resilience. DR. CARRIGAN: And yet, when presented with a chance to risk your own life in order to try and help another, you took it. E. ELLORY: I mean, that was in a dream. I don't think it really counts. There wasn't any actual danger. DR. CARRIGAN: Perhaps. But your dream-self may not have known that. E. ELLORY: I guess. DR. CARRIGAN: Do you consider yourself to be a particularly self-sacrificing person? [ Eleanor noticeably lowers her gaze and rubs her feet against one another. ] E. ELLORY: I… I don't really know. I try to be, I suppose. It's important to me to try and do the right thing. Even when it's difficult. I don't like other people being hurt. Or inconvenienced. I guess sometimes I end up… taking on a lot of stuff because I know someone has to do it. Is that what the dream was about? DR. CARRIGAN: I can't make declarative statements about what a dream is or isn't about. It may be one element of it, and equally, it may not. The psychology of dreams is not an exact science. In fact, many of my colleagues would vehemently argue that it's not a science at all. E. ELLORY: Of course. Sorry. DR. CARRIGAN: There's nothing to be sorry about, Eleanor. We're just having a discussion. E. ELLORY: What other stuff do you think there might be? In the doll dream I mean. DR. CARRIGAN: Everything I say is going to be at most educated guesswork. E. ELLORY: I understand, I promise. I'd just… like to hear your opinion. DR. CARRIGAN: Well, one very prevalent interpretation of dreams that involve violence or bodily harm is that they can be the brain's way of trying to make sense of heavy levels of non-physical wear-and-tear. Worry. Stress. Anxiety. E. ELLORY: I see. DR. CARRIGAN: Does that sound relatable to you? E. ELLORY: Yeah. I mean, I guess its relatable to a lot of people, but… yeah. Things have been really tough just recently. DR. CARRIGAN: You've mentioned that SCP-8080 has been a recurring feature in two of your dreams so far. Have you experienced any stress or worry related to that case in particular? E. ELLORY: Yeah, I have. That would make a lot of sense, I guess. SCP-8080 was held in Area-22, where I work. I used to be one of the researchers assigned to the project. DR. CARRIGAN: Used to be? E. ELLORY: There was a containment breach. SCP-8080 has gone missing. Attempt: Reward Dr. ELEANOR ELLORY walks into the foyer of Area-22 to cheers and applause. Foundation staff are crowding the entranceway, beaming proudly and trying desperately to catch her eye. She gives a small, uncertain wave to the assembled crowd and the applause grows. As she walks forward colleagues begin to extricate themselves from the mass of bodies to shake her by the hand and offer their congratulations. A squealing Dr. Sarah Holbrook pulls her into an affectionate hug. Holbrook: Oh Eleanor! I am so, so glad it was you! I can't think of anyone who deserved it more! Ellory: I, uh, thank you. Holbrook: I can't believe I'm going to get to tell people that I worked in the same department as the woman who caught SCP-8080! Ellory: Caught…? Holbrook: You were so terribly terribly smart and clever and ahhh! I'm monopolizing you! Look, you have to come back to the department break room later - I mean, only if you want of course! Obviously you won't be slumming it with us for too much longer, but we thought we'd open a few bottles of bubbly, and, well, have a toast to your success. It would be just amazing to see you there, OK? Ellory: Um, OK. I mean, yes. Yes, of course. I'll be there. I'd love to be there. Holbrook: Super! Oh and do look sharp, I hear the big guy wants a word with you. Maybe he wants your autograph! Holbrook releases ELLORY with a laugh and heads away down a corridor to their shared department. She's almost skipping with excitement. ELLORY watches her go, stunned. Then the crowd parts and Area Director DEAN WALKER steps out to greet her with his arms outspread. His chiselled good looks are arranged into a perfect smile of delight. Walker: Eleanor Ellory! If it isn't the woman of the hour herself! What am I talking about? Woman of the millennium more like! Tracking down SCP-8080 all by yourself, my word. You know there are staff who have worked here their entire lives and haven't done as much for the world as you have. He puts a hand beside his mouth and speaks in an exaggerated stage whisper. Walker: I might just be one of them. The crowd titters with laughter. Dr. Marcus Cook, the head of ELLORY's department, holds up a sign reading THANK YOU ELEANOR. Walker: Now come, come! Away from this riffraff unfit to lick your boots. We have important matters to discuss in my office. WALKER puts a hand gently but firmly on ELLORY's back and begins to steer her along a corridor. Walker: I imagine you're already thinking about what you're going to do when you get out of this dump, eh? Ellory: Um… WALKER gives a large conspiratorial wink. Walker: I don't think I'm spoiling too much when I say that several little birdies have been telling that once your report on SCP-8080 clears a rather large promotion is winding its way to you. On the Ethics Committee. Ellory: The Ethics Committee? Do you… can you get promoted to the Ethics Committee for research work? WALKER pats her heavily on the shoulder. Walker: Well it certainly seems you can. But what on earth can't you do? Of course, tracking down SCP-8080 can hardly be described as mere research work. That takes brains. That takes guts. That takes a great sense of humour and a wonderful personality. And Eleanor, you've got the lot. Ellory: I don't know what to say. Walker: Don't say anything! Just imagining it, Eleanor. You leading the Ethics Committee- Ellory: Leading? Walker: Making sure the Foundation stays on the straight and narrow, just how you like it. Helping people. Seeing all those SCPs get top quality food and their own garden to roam around in. Free range anomalies! Ellory: I don't… I mean I'd never imagined… Walker: Well its only one option of course. There'll be plenty of positions available to you now. You could be a Site Director! You could have my job! This, Eleanor, could all be yours! WALKER pulls ELLORY into the Area Director's office and leads her over to his desk. Behind it a long line of floor-to-ceiling windows displays a sprawling garden beneath a perfect baby blue sky. He takes a seat and gestures her towards a chair. Walker: Now, Eleanor, there was just one small thing. I didn't want to mention it in front of the staff since it is a little embarrassing. He places a large document folder onto the desk, open to the first page. It's headed "SCP-8080" and features a smiling photograph of ELLORY. She looks radiant. Most of the page is filled in with technical details but there's a large space in the middle after the words "Present Location:" Walker: Your report on SCP-8080. You submitted it with one tiny mistake. You forgot to write down where SCP-8080 actually is. Now obviously if anyone found out that you'd made such an elementary error it would be catastrophic for your future career plans. But I'm your friend, Eleanor. And I like you. I want you to be the success you deserve to be. So I'm just going to let you fill it in now and we won't have to tell anyone else about your little faux pas, alright? WALKER flashes a winning smile as he hands her a pen. ELLORY takes it hesitantly, holding it over the page. Ellory: I submitted this? Walker: Yes Eleanor, now do go on. You haven't forgotten where SCP-8080 is have you? Goodness, just imagine how all those people who thought so highly of you would react if they heard you'd been so incompetent. Ellory: No, no, I haven't forgotten. Walker: Good. Good. Now just write it down here and it'll all be finished. ELLORY lowers the pen to the paper and tries to write, but nothing comes out of the nib. Ellory: Sorry, I think it's broken. Walker: Not a problem, not a problem. WALKER hands her a second pen. She tries again with the same result. Walker: Not a problem! WALKER pulls the pen out of her hand and violently throws it across the room. Walker: Here, have a pencil. He passes her one and begins drumming his fingers impatiently on the desk in front of him. ELLORY starts to write. Then after a few moments she raises the pencil and looks down in horror at the paper. She tries to pull the folder from the desk. Ellory: This isn't- Walker: Let me see! WALKER forcefully rips the folder from her grasp and inspects it carefully. ELLORY has written "FUCK YOU" fourteen times in the space provided. Walker: Great. That's just great. Thanks, Eleanor. Ellory: I'm so sorry, I don't understand what happened! WALKER leans back in his swivel chair and kicks at the ground. He makes two full rotations before stopping himself and leaning forward over the desk. Walker: Do you know what I don't understand Eleanor? Why you're such an ungrateful bitch. Ellory: What? Walker: I gave you everything that someone like you could want. I made you popular. I made people who wouldn't touch you with a barge pole sing your praises. I permitted you to believe that there were actually people in this world who cared about you. And what is my reward for my tireless hard work and kindness? He holds up the top page of the file and slowly crumples it into a ball. Walker: Frankly Eleanor at this point this is very clearly your fault rather than mine. I'm very good at what I do. I'm the best, in fact. So obviously the problem here is that there's something wrong with you. I'm sure you've heard that plenty of times before. ELLORY stands up. Ellory: You are not the Director. Just who the hell are you? WALKER throws his hands up in mock astonishment. Walker: I'm not? Gosh! You know your perpetual stupidity could be almost adorable if it was from someone just a bit more attractive. Well, maybe a lot more attractive. Ellory: You're… We've met before. I know you. Walker: Control, pause the sequence and get me a large drink. Actually two large drinks. Actually Control scratch the large drinks, there's something else I want to try. Therapy Session Record - E. Ellory Extract 4 Foundation Therapist: Dr. Olivia Carrigan (via remote link) Patient Name: Eleanor Ellory SECURITY CLEARANCE: LEVEL 5 Patient has expressed concerns regarding recent unusual dreams which may be related to workplace stress and exhaustion. Patient suffers from recurring depressive episodes and severe negative self-esteem. E. ELLORY: God, what a complete asshole. Why would I dream about someone like that? DR. CARRIGAN: A lot of unpleasant things can live in our heads. Sometimes dreams are a way for us to acknowledge and confront those fears. E. ELLORY: It's so weird. I know I haven't actually met that guy in real life, I'd remember that face, but… at the end of the dream, I had such a strong feeling of recognition. Like I'd known him from somewhere and I'd just worked out who he was. That was the last thing before I woke up. Feeling really good that'd worked out where I'd seen him before. DR. CARRIGAN: He might well have been a composite character. An amalgamation of men who have behaved abusively towards you in the past or who you hold negative feelings towards. And you may on some level of consciousness have identified one of the individuals who he represents. That would certainly qualify as a breakthrough. But at the moment I'm rather more interested in the role that SCP-8080 is playing in your dreams. E. ELLORY: Why? DR. CARRIGAN: Eleanor, in the last dream you described to me SCP-8080 has developed from a motif of your psyche to a fixation. As I've said, dreams are rarely uncomplicated things and one cannot say with absolute certainty what a dream is trying to tell you. But I believe that it would be extremely unlikely for such a specific element to recur so often if it was not something that was very important to you. E. ELLORY: I suppose. DR. CARRIGAN: Could you perhaps tell me a little bit about your work with SCP-8080? E. ELLORY: It has a pretty high security level… DR. CARRIGAN: I have the same security clearance that my patients do. You can speak as freely as you wish here Eleanor. It's entirely up to you, but I think that given everything you've told me so far it would be a beneficial topic to discuss. E. ELLORY: Alright. I can try. DR. CARRIGAN: Just as long as you're comfortable. E. ELLORY: SCP-8080 is a… juvenile female presenting humanoid that… look, she's a little girl, OK? God I hate that revolting, dehumanising, containment procedure-ese. She's a little girl. She's eight years old. And she is the most beautiful, perfect thing you will ever see. Or rather you won't see, because she's spent her entire life trapped in a box. DR. CARRIGAN: You felt the standards of her containment unit were lacking? E. ELLORY: She shouldn't be in a containment unit. She should be in a home. I- We did our best. All the researchers assigned to her care absolutely loved her. She was so sweet and so polite and so full of life. And if it had just been us, looking after her, maybe that would have been OK. But she was put straight into the Anomalous Asset Programme. You know who they are? DR. CARRIGAN: Why don't you tell me in your words. E. ELLORY: They make people into things. They take people with anomalous abilities and they make them into weapons or tools or batteries. For the greater good. [ Eleanor pulls out a tissue and blows her nose ] E. ELLORY: She wasn't dangerous by herself. She didn't have to live that way. They kept her like that because they wanted to use her. [ Eleanor puts the tissue back into her pocket and searches for another. ] E. ELLORY: You know they forbade us from even giving her a name? It would interfere with the AAP's education programme for her. So SCP-8080 it had to be. We did anyway. The researchers, I mean. Not around her, but in private. We called her Chloe. And it broke my heart not being able to tell her that. Not being able to tell her her own name. DR. CARRIGAN: And then there was a containment breach at Area-22. And she escaped. E. ELLORY: … Yeah. DR. CARRIGAN: You obviously care for her a very great deal. E. ELLORY: I do. I love her. I love her very much. Attempt: Love ELEANOR ELLORY is led out of a police car in handcuffs. Her shoulders are hunched and her eyes are fixed on the pavement. Her breathing is low and shallow. She's trembling. On either side of her, cordoned off by large police barriers, a group of activists stands and shouts. They wear shirts and are carrying placards with pictures of SCP-8080's face on them. "Give her back," one man bellows. "Scum!" screams a woman. A bottle arcs out of the crowd and shatters at ELLORY's feet. Two large officers, one on either side of her, quickly lead ELLORY up a set of stone steps and into the police station. There is silence inside. Police and civilians stare at her as she's walked past them in mute disgust. The walls inside the station are plastered with hundreds of posters showing the same blurry photograph of SCP-8080. KIDNAPPED is written in large black letters beneath the pictures. ELLORY is pushed into an interrogation room where Detective DEAN WALKER is already waiting for her. Walker: Sit. ELLORY does so. She does not look up. WALKER gestures to the handcuffs. Walker: We won't be needing those. I don't think this one's going to be giving us any trouble. One of the officers brusquely uncuffs her. ELLORY continues to stare at the table. Walker: Now then. Walker slides one of the KIDNAPPED posters across the table so that the picture is directly under ELLORY's gaze. Walker: Where is she, Eleanor? ELLORY's voice comes out in a low half-whisper. Ellory: You don't have any evidence. You don't have any proof. Walker: I don't care about proof right now Eleanor. Frankly I don't care much about you. I don't care if you rot in prison for the rest of your life or if you manage to squirm your way back onto the streets. All I care about right now is that a little girl is missing, and I want to bring her home safe. ELLORY squirms in her seat and wrings her hands together. Walker: And if you were capable of caring about her at all, you'd be helping me. Ellory: I do care about her. I love her. Walker: You wanted her, Eleanor. That's not the same thing. If you really loved her then you'd want what was best for her, not for you. Ellory: I know what's best for her and it's not that… that place! Walker: It's her home Eleanor. It's where she belongs. It's the only place she'll ever belong. Ellory: That's not true. Walker: You're being so cruel to her, Eleanor. So heartless. So selfish. Ellory: I'm not! WALKER leans forward, lowering his voice. Walker: You don't honestly think that someone like you could actually look after a child, do you Eleanor? You can't even look after yourself. ELLORY's hands tremble. Walker: Do you want her to have your life, Eleanor? Do you really want to punish her like that? ELLORY digs the nails of her right hand into the flesh of her left. Walker: Think about your childhood. No father to love you and a mother who, well… You can see why he left. And let's face it, you're bound to turn out the same way, aren't you? There are tears in ELLORY's eyes. She tries to blink them back. Walker: She's such a sweet, pretty little girl, isn't she Eleanor? Sure a pure little thing. What on earth has she done to deserve being burdened with a useless, decrepit old lump like you? Ellory: Shut up! Shut up! Walker: She needs to come home now. To be with her real family. With people who can actually take care of her. Ellory: Stop it… Walker: That poor little girl… all alone out there while you're in here. Whatever will she do if you don't come back? Ellory: She's not alone! I would never leave her alone! Walker: Oh? Then prove it to me Eleanor. Who's she with? Tell us their names. Let us make sure she's being taken care of properly. Ellory: No. No no no no no! Walker: You need to give up now, Eleanor. For her sake. Ellory: No… Walker: She's not yours, Eleanor. She's ours. ELLORY stays silent. She picks up the KIDNAPPED poster in front of her and stares at it. Walker: You want her to be safe, don't you? Ellory: Yes… Walker: Then tell me where SCP-8080 is. Ellory: … Alright. Alright. You're right. She needs… she needs this. WALKER smiles benevolently. Walker: That's it. Tell me where she is. Ellory: She's in… I can't… I can't remember… Walker: Just think hard, Eleanor. Try to picture it. Ellory: It's cold and… there's a big building. With stone. It's in a town that… I can't quite see the name… I can't… I can't… Oh god, I can't remember! Can… can I have five minutes to get some air? Walker: I need to know NOW Eleanor! Ellory: Please! Just five minutes. I can't see it! It's all so blurry. I just need to calm down. I'm so close. Walker: … Alright. Yeah, sure, fine. Five minutes. ELLORY stands up, puts the poster face down on the table and walks unsteadily to the door. No one stops her. After a few moment WALKER breathes out heavily. Walker: Hoo! Well, I think that's pretty much mission accomplished Control. Let's make that three obnoxiously large drinks with as many umbrellas and sparklers as you can cram into them. Control: You don't have the info yet. Walker: Yeah, but I will. I know how it is when they get to that level. She's broken. The dream sequence is probably just messing with her real memory retrieval. It happens sometimes. Control: If you say so. WALKER begins to tap on the table with his fingers and hum to the tune of Africa by Toto. After a little over a minute he reaches out and pulls the paper poster towards him, flipping over. Walker: And I hope they're bloody grateful. All this work for one snot-nosed little- Oh fucking fuck-shit! WALKER leaps to his feet, knocking over the interview table. The word KIDNAPPED on the poster has disappeared and in its place is written, in ELLORY's handwriting, "This isn't real. Don't tell them anything. Get out." WALKER lunges at the door and turns the handle, but it remains shut. Walker: Why is the fucking door locked Control? Control: Well I didn't do it! Walker: That goddamn BITCH! WALKER violently kicks at the door until it splinters and breaks open. Outside every poster displaying SCP-8080 has changed. The word KIDNAPPED has been replaced by SAVE HER. Walker: Where the fuck is she? Control: I don't know! Why didn't the cops stop her? Walker: Because I made them to glare at her in ominous silence, not to catch escaped prisoners! Fuck! WALKER rampages through the police station, searching. As he knocks into police officers they fall apart into nothingness. Control: Do I pause the sequence? Walker: Not when we don't have eyes on her, moron. It'll take days to reset. Control: How did she change the posters? And affect the lock? Walker: Obviously she's influencing the dream. She's gaining resilience to the system. Control: I thought you only got that if you did the same sequence over and over? Walker: Yeah, well, I guess you thought wrong then shit-for-brains. Control: That's just what you told me. Walker: I KNOW WHAT I FUCKING TOLD YOU YOU PIECE OF- Oh goddammit. There's a door in a wall where a door shouldn't be. It's hanging open, and beyond it is the fictionalised office of DEAN WALKER, Director of Area-22. Walker: Control, you haven't cleared the data stack right? Control: Nope. Walker: She's burrowing. Well, that's not a problem. Lots of rodents do it. WALKER strides through the door into the office. On the other side of the room another door is waiting, leading to a bloody wooden corridor. WALKER continues on. From the darkness something shouts "Daddy!" at him. He raises a middle finger. Walker: Not in the mood. WALER steps through another door into a crystal-lined hall. Rye Blacksong gives him a sinister smile and steps out in front of him. WALKER turns him to dust. Walker: Not in the sodding mood. He walks through a final door into a meadow beneath an overcrowded starry sky. ELLORY is there, facing away from him and panting. Walker: End of the line, Eleanor. ELLORY turns sharply and hurls a red thermos flask at him. It bounces off harmlessly but the coffee sloshes out of it, covering his face and hair and staining his police detective outfit. Walker: God fucking dammit! Ellory: Get the hell out of my dreams you Freddy Krueger wannabe asshole! WALKER raises a fist to strike her but catches himself at the last moment. He spits coffee out onto the grass and glowers. Walker: Don't you see how completely pointless this all is? There's no way out, Eleanor. There's no exit button. There's no point in fighting. All that's going to happen is that we have to do this whole song and dance again and again and again until you tell me where SCP-8080 is hiding. Ellory: Fuck you. Her name is Chloe and she is a child. She is eight years old. Does that not mean anything to you? Do you not care what's going to happen to her if she's found? Walker: Honestly? Not really. So it's a kid. There's like a billion of them. I don't particularly care if they want to weaponise it or lock it away or cut up into tiny itty bitty little pieces. It's not my job to care. It wasn't your job to care, Eleanor. It's my job to crack skulls open and see what juicy little secrets tumble out, and I happen to be very, very good at it. I have an almost unblemished record which you are not going to mess up. So please, save us both some time and tell me where it is. ELLORY leans forward and spits in his face. Ellory: She is safe, and you are never going to find her. WALKER's face flushes crimson with fury. He raises a fist again but lets it drop. Walker: Fine. We'll keep playing it your way, Eleanor. It'll be more fun anyway. Control, stop this sequence and prep that new one I've been working on. d925c51b. Control: Uh, that wasn't actually on our approved list for today's session, so I don't think it has official clearance yet. Walker: Control, I'm not having a good day today. And really soon I'm going to have to take that out on someone. Don't make that someone you. Therapy Session Record - E. Ellory Extract 5 Foundation Therapist: Dr. Olivia Carrigan (via remote link) Patient Name: Eleanor Ellory SECURITY CLEARANCE: LEVEL 5 Patient has expressed concerns regarding recent unusual dreams which may be related to workplace stress and exhaustion. Patient suffers from recurring depressive episodes and severe negative self-esteem. E. ELLORY: And then, right, and then it was like I was actually controlling the dream. Or sort of me anyway. Like a subconscious me. Or an unconscious me. Leavening me messages from me. DR. CARRIGAN: You were lucid dreaming? E. ELLORY: No, because, look- sort of? But listen, OK, listen. I went through the other dreams. All the other weird dreams I've had. They are literally all connected. DR. CARRIGAN: We can frequently shift from one scenario to another within the same dream, often without it making much sense. E. ELLORY: Ohhhh but this made sense alright. Absolute sense. Because I realised that it's the same guy! In every dream, it's the same guy. The guy I recognised. The douchebag. [ Eleanor clicks her fingers in frustration. ] E. ELLORY: God, it's on the tip of my tongue. I can't remember his name but he's there, he's always there. And I hit him with a thermos flask. DR. CARRIGAN: Eleanor, you're becoming quite excited. I'm glad that you're in a positive mind space at the moment and appreciate your enthusiasm, but do you think we could dial things back just a little bit. Dreams can be a fascinating subject to explore and discuss, but they are just dreams. [ Eleanor claps her hand together in small rapid movements. ] E. ELLORY: No, no but you see that's the thing. I don't think these are just dreams. I don't think that they're dreams at all. Or not real dreams anyway. I think this asshole is actually in my head. Because he wants SCP-8080. Because he wants to find Chloe. But he's not going to find Chloe, oh no no no. I hit that bastard with a thermos flask and I'll do it again! DR. CARRIGAN: Eleanor, please, calm down. We can discuss your thoughts in detail in a moment but I think it would be good for us to have a small pause here and deescalate. Would you take some deep breathes in and some deep breaths out for me? E. ELLORY: I don't have time for that! I've got to… um… I've got to… DR. CARRIGAN: Eleanor? Eleanor? Are you alright? Attempt: d925c51b ELEANOR ELLORY walks out of the warm afternoon sunshine and into the art gallery. She looks around her, fascinated. She knows all the pieces here. Most of them are from her inspiration board, the wall of her room where she keeps pictures of artworks that she hopes will inspire her to draw. She wanders through the gallery for a while until she finds herself sitting on a bench. Opposite her is a picture that makes her tremble. It's Eleanor Ellory, by Eleanor Ellory, and she last saw it when she was transferring it from her drawing pad to the recycling bin. It looks worse than she remembers, and it's been blown up at least ten times so that it dominates the entire wall. She looks at the irregular bumpy teeth, the uneven smile, the way the inexpert curve of her chin makes it look like it's become swollen from some severe allergic reaction. The hair looks like a single lifeless block. She grimaces at the two-dimensional-looking breasts she had included because she'd convinced herself that nudity and vulnerability made something more artistic. Nearby, a woman catches ELLORY's eye. ELLORY stares, her mouth agog. The woman is much younger than she should be, and thinner too, wearing a gorgeous black evening dress with diamonds around her throat. But it's unmistakably her mother, Pam. Pam surveys the painting with an unconcealed snort of laughter. ELLORY's father Michael steps up beside her and hands her a drink. He looks just the way he did in the one photograph she still has of him from before he left. But now he's wearing a tuxedo. ELLORY looks around to find that it has become night and that everyone in the gallery is now wearing expensive eveningwear. She tucks her sandal-clad feet under the bench and pulls uncomfortably at her thick knitted sweater. The front is covered in egg stains. A small crowd is forming around her drawing. There's the murmuring noise of many whispers layered on top of one another punctuated by audible sniggers. Sarah Holbrook stands in front of the picture in a stunning blue gown covered with sapphires. The rest of her department at Area-22 is in the crowd too. Marcus Cook looks dashing in a luxurious white suit. He points ELLORY's picture out to a junior colleague with a look of mock revulsion. "They'll put anything in a gallery these days," someone says to a chorus of laughter. "Perhaps it's just there for a little light relief between the actual art?" interjects another. "Comic relief perhaps," quips a third. Everyone is laughing. Holbrook: You know who it reminds me of? It's Eleanor. It's dumpy Eleanor. Cook: Of course it is! No wonder it gave us such a fright. The visitors from Area-22 nod and voice their approval. Holbrook: You know, I thought that grotesque chin had just been drawn badly, but if it's Eleanor then they've got it right on the money. The laughter swells. ELLORY's mother takes a cigarette from her mouth and looks around for an ashtray. Seeing none, she instead grinds it into ELLORY's picture. The laughter grows louder and louder. ELLORY sniffs loudly. She searches for a tissue to stem her streaming nose, but she can't find one. Walker: There's a lot more. DEAN WALKER, the fabulous, beloved, and deeply handsome art critic, is sitting beside her. Walker: Do you remember who I am Eleanor? Ellory: Yeah, you're Dean Walker. Walker: Well done. Ellory: You're that creepy asshole whose face I spat in. A flash of barely contained rage flits across Walker's face, but it's swiftly replaced by a rueful smile. Walker: I did warn you Eleanor. I tried really hard being nice, you know? I tried to be your friend. I tried to be your hero. I tried to do things the easy way with the minimum amount of disruption to that pink lumpy thing between your ears. But poor stupid Eleanor, you wouldn't have it. The picture of ELLORY has caught alight from her mother's cigarette. Fire spreads across the canvas to cheers from the gallery attendees. Behind the flames the artwork comes alive, clawing woefully at its face and sobbing fat cartoonish tears. The face warps, sprouting boils and blisters. Its chin becomes larger and larger. On the bench, ELLORY's eyes and cheeks are damp. Walker: So try this one on for size. You can tell me where SCP-8080 is, or I can leave you here. I'll put it into a loop, so you can go through it again, and again, and again. You won't be able to remember what's happening, and you'll never get used to it, but underneath you'll still have the nagging feeling that you've been here far, far too long. I can make it feel like years are passing in here Eleanor. Oh, I'll be sure to check in on you every few decades or so, see that things are still functioning properly, find out if you've come to your senses and want to give me SCP-8080's location. Or you could do the smart thing and we can end it all right now. What do you say? ELLORY turns to him, tears still falling from her eyes, and laughs in his face. Ellory: This is what you're going with? Honestly. And you keep whining that you're good at your job. My brain does worse things to me than this on an average Friday night. WALKER's lip curls. Walker: I can make it worse than this, Eleanor. Much, much worse. I can make it forever. I can make it hell. ELLORY shakes her head. Ellory: You've never had a kid before, have you Dean? Not one you loved, anyway. Because if you think for even one single, solitary second that I would rather live my life having betrayed Chloe to a piece of shit like you than to sit here for eternity and listen to some figments of my imagination insult my weight and art skills then you're even more stupid than I thought. WALKER clenches his jaw. His cheeks are turning red. Walker: No I don't have any children Eleanor, but then again, neither do you. That's why you stole one from work. At least the normal old bags just buy a cat. ELLORY chuckles, drying her eyes. Walker: What's so fucking funny, bitch? Ellory: You are. You really don't like being told no, do you? Walker: Next time it comes out of your mouth you're going to be screaming it. WALKER reaches out a hand towards her throat as if to strangle her, but hesitates. Ellory: Go on. Try it. I'm not going to feel anything, am I? You can't actually feel pain in these dreams. Fear and panic and stress and exhaustion, yes, but not actual physical nerve-ending-firing pain. And that's why you keep stopping yourself from hitting me, and why you ended the doll dream when you did. Because if I realised that I couldn't be hurt, then I wouldn't have anything to be afraid of. You can't actually do anything to me. All you've got are tricks and schoolyard bullying. And actually most of the kids at my school were much better at it than you. WALKER punches the bench they're sitting on. It trembles and cracks form on the surface. Walker: I am going to make you suffer, Eleanor. I'll watch you beg and grovel for your freedom and then I'll lock you up anyway and throw away the key. Ellory: You're anomalous, aren't you? I mean, this dream stuff isn't just a piece of tech the Foundation has, is it? I really can't imagine they'd use you as an operative if they had absolutely anyone else available. Walker: You don't know the first fucking thing. Control, end the sequence. Ellory: Hey, come to think of it, do you really look like that? The prettyboy good looks, the gleaming teeth, the perfect hair, slightly ruined by the bulging eyes and the flecks of spittle at the mouth. Or is this job just where you get to fantasise? Walker: End the goddamn sequence Control! Therapy Session Record - E. Ellory Extract 6 Foundation Therapist: Dr. Olivia Carrigan (via remote link) Patient Name: Eleanor Ellory SECURITY CLEARANCE: LEVEL 5 Patient has expressed concerns regarding recent unusual dreams which may be related to workplace stress and exhaustion. Patient suffers from recurring depressive episodes and severe negative self-esteem. [ Eleanor laughs softly to herself. ] DR. CARRIGAN: Has something amused you, Eleanor? Would you like to share? E. ELLORY: No, no it's fine. You probably wouldn't see the funny side anyway. DR. CARRIGAN: Very well, just as you like. I think now would be a good to talk to talk a little more about your involvement with SCP-8080. E. ELLORY: Mmmmm, no. DR. CARRIGAN: Eleanor, I think- E. ELLORY: Nope! No, I think you've done enough thinking for one day. I'm going to think now, and do you know what I think? I think that Dean Walker is anomalous. And that he's the only one who can actually appear physically in my dreams. And that is why you are just a voice on a computer rather than actually being in the room. DR. CARRIGAN: Eleanor, I provide therapeutic support to Foundation employees at many facilities across the world. Unfortunately, I cannot be physically stationed at all of them simultaneously. E. ELLORY: You know, it's kind of amazing, the absolute nonsense that you accept as normal when you're dreaming, isn't it? Like going back and forth between having weird-ass dreams and having a therapy session about your weird-ass dreams with nothing at all in between. When am I supposed to have had those dreams, doctor? I haven't left here once since I started dreaming. DR. CARRIGAN: Eleanor, I don't think that you're very well. Could you do me a favour and make yourself a warm drink while I contact someone who can check in on you? E. ELLORY: Sorry Doctor, but I'm going to have to take a rain check on that. I've got things to do, places to be. [ Eleanor stands up, stretches, and then walks out of the room through the door. ] DR. CARRIGAN: … shit. Uh, hey Walker? We have a bit of a problem. D. WALKER: What is it Control? I'm busy. DR. CARRIGAN: She's figured it out. Could you come up to the therapy room? [ A new door appears in the wall of the room and Dean Walker steps through it. ] D. WALKER: Well? Where is she? DR. CARRIGAN: She left. D. WALKER: She can't leave. There isn't anywhere to leave to. [ Walker opens the door that Eleanor passed through. There's a solid black void on the other side. ] D. WALKER: Bugger. DR. CARRIGAN: Has she gone back into the sequence pile? D. WALKER: No. Much more annoying. I think she's actually gone into her own mind. Damn, she's adapting fast. DR. CARRIGAN: Walker, maybe this is the point where we should- D. WALKER: Shut up, Control. It's not a problem. She's a skulking, scuttling little troglodyte who got lucky and I'm, well, me. I can find her. Look, do me a favour. End the therapy sequence and then go and turn on the system's pain replicators. DR. CARRIGAN: … I don't have permission to do that. D. WALKER: I am giving you permission. DR. CARRIGAN: Walker, you don't have the authority to give that permission. We need to consult the Director and get written authorisation from the Ethics Committee before- D. WALKER: Oh fuck the Ethics Committee. I am not waiting however many hours it takes to get some impotent shit-eating desk humping suit to rubber stamp a piece of paper so I can do my fucking job. DR. CARRIGAN: But we can't. There'll be disciplinary action. D. WALKER: Who says they have to find out about it, huh? I just need a few hours. The Foundation want their brat back. They're not going to care how it happened once it's done. DR. CARRIGAN: If I can just call- D. WALKER: If you don't do what I fucking say right now then I'm going to tell them it's your fault she got away and your fault that they didn't get their precious SCP-8080 back. In fact, I'll refuse to do another job while you're still with the Foundation. I'll make sure you're out on your ass with absolutely nothing to your name. I'll make sure that every bit of work I do here is conditional upon having regular updates about how absolutely shit your life is. Who do you think they're going to choose to keep happy, hmm? Their one-of-a-kind golden boy who picks the brains of all their enemies and traitors and saves oodles and oodles of lives, or some worthless lab rat who could be replaced tomorrow? [ There is silence. ] D. WALKER: Yeah, that's what I thought. Oh and Control? Be a doll and make sure those drinks are ready for me too. Attempt: {[Undefined%;error_%;error_%;error_%;error_%;erro DEAN WALKER steps into a dream. He's standing in an offputtingly white room in an offputtingly clinical building that he recognises instantly. It's Area-22, though a much more faithful recreation than his own version. There is no cheering crowd of staff members here. There is no one here at all. No one except… He closes his eyes and feels the slight trembling hum of ELLORY's consciousness. His lips curl into a wide smile. Walker: Gotcha. WALKER pours his voice into the very foundations of the world around him. When he speaks it comes from everywhere and nowhere all at once, echoing through every part of the dream Area-22. He wants her to hear this. Walker: Well well well, Eleanor, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this besides ruining the scenery? He begins to walk through the facility, a spring in his step. Walker: You know, most people looking for a place of safety would dream themselves to their family or their friends but - oh dear! Of course, you don't have any of those things, do you? Doing paperwork in this place is about the closest thing you have to a life. He strolls along a corridor, whistling jauntily. Walker: Boy oh boy, how much are you wishing that you were back under that starry sky with good ol' Agent Walker, eh? You could have been happy there, Eleanor. But I guess even you're smart enough to know that you don't deserve that, right? WALKER enters the Area-22 canteen and begins to kick over tables. He laughs. Walker: Hey baby, how about a yoghurt? You know you love 'em! He moves into the kitchen space and picks up a large kitchen knife. He plays with it, slicing at the air, gauging its weight. Walker: Oh! You were right by the way. About the pain. Horribly incomplete of me, wasn't it? Denying you the full experience. But don't you worry your not-so-pretty little head about a thing, Eleanor. We take your feedback very, very seriously here and I've taken steps to fix that pesky defect. So do be careful if you stub your toe. WALKER pauses for a moment as he leaves the canteen and watches as the room starts to fall apart. Cracks spread through the walls and furniture as they crumble into dust leaving only a void of solid darkness behind. Walker: Let's play a game, Eleanor. You run, and I take away all the places you can hide. WALKER begins to move along a door-filled corridor at a leisurely pace, swinging his knife. Walker: Come out, come out, wherever you are. He opens each door as he passes them, glancing in and then moving on. They decay in his wake. Walker: I can feel you, you know. A little pressure at the back of my neck. Like a flea. Or an annoying boil. He carries on, roaming through the building. The world behind him disintegrates, masonry collapsing into nothingness, space collapsing into void. Walker: I'm getting tired of this Eleanor. Why don't you come out and we'll discuss this whole thing like reasonable adults? WALKER kicks a bin. It launches into the air and stays there, unencumbered by gravity. Walker: You know, maybe the gallery was the wrong approach. Being surrounded by people who hate you? Pff, that's just your normal life. He pushes through a set of double doors. They sag and collapse like damp tissue paper. Walker: But I can put you in other places. Nicer places. As WALKER passes by a series of offices their computer monitors change to display a picture of SCP-8080. Walker: You give me what I want, and I can give you… anything, Eleanor. Any little dream your heart desires. The office furniture begins to float gently into the air. The glass window panes dissolve into puddles of goo. Walker: Maybe a birthday party that people actually come to. Or a world where you're a few pounds lighter. Ellory: Fuck you! WALKER turns his head from side to side, trying to pinpoint the origin of the voice. But it's coming from the dream, from everywhere and nowhere. Walker: You could do! We were getting awfully close under those stars before you spoiled things, weren't we? Wasn't there just the smallest spark between us in the Director's office? And gosh, even in the gallery you were going on and on about my dashingly good looks. Do you really like my hair that much? It's almost enough to make a dreamwalker blush. Ellory: Wait, is that why you called yourself Dean Walker? Oh god, that's terrible. ELLORY's laughter echoes throughout the building. WALKER's features contort in anger. He speaks through gritted teeth. Walker: It's the best deal you'll get this lifetime you know. There's nothing left for you out there, Eleanor. Did I not tell you? They'd already tortured you by the time they brought you to me. Cut all sorts of bits off. Boy, if you thought you were an unattractive lump before- WALKER kicks open the door to a bathroom. Walker: Really there's just a head and some stringy bits left. We were planning to play piñata with it after we're done. The laughter doesn't stop. WALKER furiously kicks the wall beside him. It dissolves into powder. Walker: You're making a mistake Eleanor. Biggest mistake of your life. Possibly the last one too. But there's still time to make a deal before I catch you. You can still join the winning side. WALKER comes to a fork with two doors. He steps towards one, pauses, and then moves to the other with a smile. Walker: Hey, if a dream isn't good enough for you maybe we can find something you'll like on the outside. He lunges through the door, thrusting his knife out, but no one appears to be there. He's entered another corridor lined with the doors of humanoid containment chambers. He begins to move along it slowly, his knife raised. Walker: You didn't believe that story about cutting you up, right? Of course not. You're way too smart to fall for one of my little jokes. Maybe we can- ELLORY steps out behind WALKER and swings a baseball bat into the back of his skull. Due to the height difference, part of the blow's energy is taken by Walker's upper back, but he still staggers forward with a bellow of agony. Ellory: Hey there prettyboy. Guess I'm not the only one who can feel pain, huh? ELLORY tries to step forward, raising the bat to strike again, but the angle of the corridor shifts into a slope and ELLORY is forced to step backwards again to maintain her balance. WALKER wheels round and the corridor returns to normal. Walker: Nothing wrong with a little pain now and again. Reminds you that you're alive. Of course what you'll be going through, Eleanor, is a lot more than a little pain. WALKER brandishes his knife. Walker: Nice bat, Eleanor. Doesn't really seem to fit the aesthetic of this place very well though. Where'd you get it? Ellory: I played a lot of baseball when I was a girl. I was pretty great at it, honestly. I used to dream about going pro until my mother stopped taking me to games anyway. Walker: Bet you're wishing mommy had taken you to a shooting range instead. WALKER attempts to swing towards ELLORY's chest with the knife. She brings the bat up to block the blade, but he swerves, leaving a shallow cut on her right arm instead. WALKER steps back, grinning. Walker: You know Eleanor, I don't like you very much. I'm sure you have that effect on a lot of people. WALKER makes a couple of quick feints, lunging forward and dancing back, watching how ELLORY moves to defend herself. Walker: I really do want to jam this knife through your throat very, very badly right now and put you out of my misery, but you know what I've decided I want even more? I want to give SCP-8080 to the Foundation. ELLORY steps into a swing, attempting to strike Walker's right knife-wielding arm. He evades and lands a slice on her left. Walker: So they can lock her up in a pokey, soulless little room where the nice folks from the Anomalous Asset Programme can poke her and prod her and teach her to get cheese out of a maze. WALKER makes another feint and ELLORY steps back. Walker: They can raise her to be a weapon or a tool or a battery. And she'll forget alllll about you. Won't even remember your name. WALKER makes another feint and ELLORY steps back again. She stumbles, but catches herself. WALKER grins, advancing. Walker: Or maybe they'll tell her bedtime stories about the nasty old witch who tried to kidnap her and who'll come back for her again if she doesn't eat her vegetables up. You can be her monster under the bed! WALKER lunges forward, swinging upwards. ELLORY manages to block the blade with the bat, stepping backwards again. Walker: And then, one day, she'll end up as loyal little Foundation utility. Just like me. Isn't that a happy thought? WALKER thrusts the blade forward wildly and ELLORY slams the bat down onto his right arm. He screams and drops the knife, but continues his attack, using his forward momentum to drive his left elbow into ELLORY's stomach. She's knocked backwards and falls to the floor. Walker: Fucking bitch! WALKER attempts to slam his foot down on ELLORY's stomach but she rolls to her left to dodge. He tries again but ELLORY brings the bat up into his crotch. It doesn't have much force behind it but WALKER staggers back with a pained yelp. ELLORY tries to stand up, using the bat for leverage, but the corridor tilts again, raising WALKER and lowering ELLORY who falls and drops the bat. It begins to slide away. WALKER steps forward and aims a kick at ELLORY's head, but the corridor's shift suddenly reverses, dropping WALKER's side and raising ELLORY's. Ellory: My dream, asshole! Both WALKER and ELLORY begins to slide down the ramp. The baseball bat rolls past ELLORY. She lunges out, but instead her hands grab onto the edge of one of the containment chamber doors. The knife rolls past Walker. He snatches it up. The floor returns to normal. WALKER starts to scramble to his feet. ELLORY uses the door to pull herself upright and begins franticly typing a code into its keypad. WALKER's knife slides in front of her throat. Walker: Now goodness me, just what on earth are you… WALKER looks at the door and begins to laugh. In the middle of the door is a sign that reads: SCP-8080. Walker: Oh. Oh, that is good. Oh Eleanor I could kiss you if you weren't so absolutely repulsive and disgusting. So that's why you were in this dump. You've been learning to manipulate your mind and you put all your naughty little memories of her here, didn't you? Sneaky sneaky. ELLORY visibly shakes, and when she speaks it comes out as a sob. Ellory: I just… wanted to be with her again. WALKER bites his lower lip with an expression of bliss. Walker: Oh I do love that sound. Ellory: Even if it's only my memories of her. I thought… I knew when I left the gallery that I was never getting out of here. That it was hopeless. Walker: Completely hopeless. Utterly devoid of anything even approaching the barest hint of hope. Ellory: It was true what you'd said. I was never going to be able to win. Walker: Not in a million, billion years my dear, wretched Eleanor. I'll give you points for trying though. I've never met anybody who's taken to dreams so fast. Let alone a nobody like you. Ellory: But I… I knew if I could just put it all in one place, how I got her out, where she is, who's taking care of her… then I could protect her. I could… go inside, and close the door in a way that made sure no one could ever open it again. And then I could spend whatever time I have left in those dreams… with her. ELLORY blinks rapidly as if fighting off tears. Ellory: Walker… you have to understand now, right? How much she means to me. I can't… I can't stand this anymore. Please, please could you just… let me go through? Just tell them I escaped. That you couldn't get to me in time. Please… let me keep her safe. Walker: Oh Eleanor, Eleanor, Eleanor. But of course! What can I say? I see it all now. What a complete rotter I've been. Your tragic tale has warmed my stony heart and I am filled with the milk of human kindness. How could I possibly say no to those big puppy dog eyes? He leans in until his lips are almost against her ear and speaks in a low whisper. Walker: Go on. Open your door, and I'll let you slip right through. ELLORY raises a trembling hand and presses a final key. There's a gentle hiss, and the door swings open. Beyond it, instead of a containment chamber, there's a dimly lit windowless room with a dusty red carpet. The figure of a small girl with long straight black hair is sitting in the middle of it, her back to the doorway. She's moving a small toy train back and forth. Walker: Thank you, Eleanor. A complete and utter failure to the last. A total thicky in every sense of the word. WALKER throws ELLORY carelessly aside where she lands on the floor in a crumpled heap. Ellory: But… but- WALKER mimics her shrilly. Walker: But but but! Look, I would love to sit here and savour every one of those gloriously pathetic whimpers, but I'm afraid I have a renegade SCP's location to record so that a lot of big scary people with big scary guns can track her down. He grins. Walker: And put big scary holes into everyone who's been protecting her. You really are a hopeless idiot Eleanor. Now, don't go away. Because once the Foundation has the information they need I think that they're going to be so happy with me that they're really not going to bother looking too closely at how I spend the rest of my time in here. And I still have such wonderful nightmares to show you. WALKER cracks his knuckles one at a time. Walker: I must dash, but just before I go I want you to know that when they do recapture SCP-8080, I'm going to make sure she hears that it was you who gave her up. Flipped on her at the first opportunity. Living it up on some far away island with the money you made trading her back to the Foundation. And my goodness, I've just had another thought. I'm sure she'll have met simply oodles of treacherous Foundation types on her little flight to freedom with you. People who need identifying. Why, I might even be kind enough to offer my services to pick through her brain for free. Toodaloo, Eleanor. Don't be too upset. This was always how it was going to end. You were just stupid enough to draw it out. WALKER waves mockingly and steps through the doorway. The old wooden floorboards creak beneath his feet. The figure of the girl freezes. Walker: Now little memory, howsabout you tell me just where we are? The figure's head rotates 180 degrees and a porcelain face smiles back at him. Ugly brown-red stains bleed from its eye sockets. WALKER leaps back with a yell. Walker: Oh fuck. Oh god. Oh Jesus fucking Christ. He clasps his chest, taking deep breaths, and then scowls. Walker: … Oh fucking hell. He turns around. Behind him, the door has closed. From this side it resembles ordinary wood with ancient peeling red paint. He twists the handle but it doesn't open. Walker: Fuck me. That vicious, conniving piece of shit. When I catch up to her again I'm going to cut her into tiny living pieces and then set them all on fire. Fuck. FUCK! The doll lets out a haunting giggle. Doll: Daddy! You wanna pway wiv me? Walker: And you can fuck off too. WALKER waves a hand dismissively at it but nothing happens. Six mechanical, spider-like legs tear their way out of the doll's torso and raise it slowly from the ground. It continues to giggle. Walker: Control, stop the sequence. It was a trick. The bitch looped me back into the doll house. The lower half of the doll's face cracks in two, revealing circles of rusty metal saw-blade teeth. The marble eyes in its sockets pop out onto the carpet and tiny maggots begin to spill out. Walker: Control, stop the sodding sequence. With the sound of a revving chainsaw, the doll creature's teeth begin to rotate. It crawls slowly forward, the eerie giggling getting louder and louder. Walker: Control? Control!? Do you read me? CONTROL!! Fucking hell- WALKER turns and attempts to punch the door. It doesn't break. He tries again, and again. The wood remains unblemished, but the knuckles on Walker's hand have become split and bloodied. The doll continues to move forward, its body twisting unnaturally on its spikey, uneven legs. WALKER looks from his bloody knuckles to the doll. His eyes are wide. Walker: CONTROL! CONTROL FOR GOD'S SAKE TURN OFF THE FUCKING PAIN REPLICATORS!! Doll: Hey daddy, you got shome mighty pwetty skin. Can I have it, pweeeeeeeease? Addendum Doctor OLIVIA CARRIGAN is on a yacht. It's one of the large, deluxe models with three generously sized stories rising above the deck, but it looks long, long past its prime. Rust has crept unchecked across the bone-white exterior, leaving it pockmarked and disfigured. Dirt and grime mar the already chipped and cracking paintwork. Most of the windows and portholes have shattered, revealing shallow glimpses of a dark, decaying interior. CARRIGAN is sitting on a white metal sunlounger at the very front of the bow, fully dressed. It is nighttime, and above her is a vast ocean of brilliant stars that gleam like polished gemstones. Far too many stars to be real. There's an ocean below as well. The water around the yacht is a deep, smooth, oily black that seems to stretch out forever and ever in every direction. The liquid undulates softly in the still air, making the stars reflected in its surface waltz gently back and forth like slow, flickering candles. Around the rim of the horizon giant blue-white icebergs jut out of the inky blackness like a vast circle of misshapen teeth. CARRIGAN shivers, and tries to pull her jacket tighter around herself. The world is deathly quiet. The only sounds are the light lapping of water against the hull and the distant creak of metal as the boat rocks placidly from side to side. The yacht appears to be completely deserted, apart from CARRIGAN and her guest. Lying beside her on a second sunlounger is ELEANOR ELLORY. She's wearing a large pair of sunglasses, baggy shorts, and a Hawaiian shirt covered in brightly coloured flowers. Slowly she removes her sunglasses, stretches her arms above her with a contented sigh, and then folds them behind her head. Ellory: Damn. Still pretty. CARRIGAN stares straight ahead. She says nothing. Ellory: Not a bad night for it, huh? CARRIGAN continues to stare directly forward, not turning her head. Ellory: The trick is zero light pollution. And a good imagination. CARRIGAN still doesn't look at her. Carrigan: You can't be here. Ellory: Well, I couldn't just stay in my head forever. Don't get me wrong, it's a lot nicer than I expected, but it can get a little samey. You get tired of your own company after a while. Carrigan: I mean… you can't be here. The system shouldn't be active. Ellory: Ah, well, you'd know best. I guess I can't be here then. So I suppose I must just be a phantom of your guilt-ridden subconscious. Did you know, Doctor, that many psychiatrists believe that dreaming about a small woman on a yacht who calls you a total asshole is a sure sign of problems in the workplace? CARRIGAN's lip trembles. ELLORY regards her in silence for a while. Ellory: Did they ever get prettyboy out of his hole? Carrigan: … Not yet. Ellory: I imagine they're having trouble finding an exit large enough to squeeze that massive brain of his through. ELLORY takes a sip from a drink that's now appeared in her hand. It's a mug of cocoa. It has an umbrella in it. And a sparkler. Ellory: I'd say "I can't believe he fell for that" but you know what, I absolutely can. I've met egotistical shitweasels like him before. Deep down they really do believe that you're just a weak, frightened, gullible little girl who'll break down sobbing and do whatever they want if they push you around hard enough. So if you play along, they're much too arrogant to question it. ELLORY watches the sparkler until it burns out. CARRIGAN watches too. She doesn't speak. Ellory: I meant to ask - none of my business of course - but that whole thing with the doll room, was that like a lost connection, or…? CARRIGAN remains silent. Ellory: Right. This whole thing is probably going to be recorded, huh? Never mind. Carrigan: What is it you want, Eleanor? Ellory: Well Doctor, you asked me to make myself a warm drink and I promised you a rain check. So here we are. She licks a chocolate moustache off her upper lip. Ellory: Besides, given our last session got cut a little short, I thought you might be interested to hear how things were going with me. ELLORY takes a long, slow sip of her cocoa. CARRIGAN hesitates. Carrigan: … And how are things going with you, Eleanor? Ellory: You know, honestly? Not half bad. It turns out that having total, unlimited access to a lifetime of your dreams and memories can actually be a really rewarding experience. You should recommend it in therapy. ELLORY takes another sip. CARRIGAN does not reply. Ellory: I've got a lot of books to re-read in there. And music to re-listen to. And TV shows to re-watch. A lot of those are pretty awful, to be honest, but I can't blame anyone else for that. ELLORY finishes her drink. The empty mug ceases to exist. Ellory: I'm still learning about all the things I can do in dreams. Gravity was pretty easy, once I'd gotten the hang of it. Time is a lot more tricky, but I'm definitely getting better. I can make a baseball game last a whole day, or spend a week living in the sunshine of a single afternoon. Making things is the most fun though. It's a bit like drawing, really. Only apparently I'm a lot better at it. Carrigan: I'm… glad that you're happy. ELLORY narrows her eyes. Ellory: Just to be clear here Doctor, I'm not telling you any of this to soothe your conscience. Living in a dream world isn't the worst fate I could have imagined, but it's still not something I got to choose. I don't forgive you or the Foundation for anything you've done to me. CARRIGAN looks down. Carrigan: Eleanor… you stole SCP-8080. Ellory: You can't steal a person. They don't belong to anyone. But you can make sure they don't have to live in a cage. Carrigan: It's- CARRIGAN pauses and bites her lower lip. Her breath comes out in small clouds of white mist. Carrigan: … She's dangerous, Eleanor. Ellory: A lot of things can be dangerous. A lot of people, too. Switch on the news sometime. Carrigan: You know that's not the same thing. She has… unique characteristics. She was in containment for a reason. Ellory: And what exactly is it that you think Chloe's going to do, Doctor? CARRIGAN shifts uncomfortably and glances to the side. Pale goosebumps have risen across her flesh. Carrigan: You never actually told me what it- what her anomalous properties were. ELLORY stares at her. Ellory: Didn't the Foundation tell you? CARRIGAN looks slightly abashed. Carrigan: It… wasn't considered essential information for the mission. ELLORY starts to laugh. The noise echoes back and forth across the endless expanse of water, sounding cold and strange. Ellory: That place… She straightens up and pulls herself off the sunlounger, giving CARRIGAN a smile. Ellory: Well, this has been fun and all, but I guess it's about time I hit the road. Can't sit around here all night yapping. You've got to get your rest, Doctor. Big day tomorrow I imagine. A bright blue door waiting in the middle of the bow deck. It's hanging slightly ajar and a crack of brilliant white light is spilling through. ELLORY begins to walk towards it. Ellory: Don't worry, by the way. I won't be making contact again. I have much better things to do with my life these days. Carrigan: Wait! ELLORY stops with her hand on the door handle. She waits. Ellory: Yeah? Carrigan: Eleanor… Why did you come here? What do you want me to do? ELLORY looks back at her as she opens the door. The light obscures her expression. Ellory: Whatever your conscience will allow, Doctor. I suppose that's all any of us can do. She steps forward into brightness. Ellory: Sleep tight, Olivia. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8080" by Uncannyon, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8080. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Attempt_Friendship.jpg Name: "abstract-1668595" Author: Creativetc (aka Teresa) License: CC0 Public Domain Source Link: Pixabay Pre-2019 Additional Notes: Image was cropped prior to upload. Filename: Blacked_Out.png Name: "Blacked_Out" Author: Uncannyon License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Additional Notes: This is a pure black rectangle I made in MS Paint Filename: Attempt_Fantasy.jpg Name: "abstract-1668596" Author: Creativetc (aka Teresa) License: CC0 Public Domain Source Link: Pixabay Pre-2019 Additional Notes: Image has been cropped on this page by the wide-image-sizer component. Filename: Attempt_Fear.jpg Name: "fractal-art-403462" Author: Ocdesignzz (aka Amy) License: CC0 Public Domain Source Link: Pixabay Pre-2019 Additional Notes: Image has been cropped on this page by the wide-image-sizer component. Filename: Attempt_Reward.jpg Name: "abstract-1668590" Author: Creativetc (aka Teresa) License: CC0 Public Domain Source Link: Pixabay Pre-2019 Additional Notes: Image has been cropped on this page by the wide-image-sizer component. Filename: Attempt_Love.jpg Name: "fractal-441251" Author: Ocdesignzz (aka Amy) License: CC0 Public Domain Source Link: Pixabay Pre-2019 Additional Notes: Image has been cropped on this page by the wide-image-sizer component. Filename: Attempt_d925c51b.jpg Name: "fractal-441254" Author: Ocdesignzz (aka Amy) License: CC0 Public Domain Source Link: Pixabay Pre-2019 Additional Notes: Image has been cropped on this page by the wide-image-sizer component. Filename: Attempt_Undefined.jpg Name: "fractal-441254" Author: ArtTower (aka Brigitte Werner) License: CC0 Public Domain Source Link: Pixabay Pre-2019 Additional Notes: Image has been cropped on this page by the wide-image-sizer component. |
SCP-8080 | uncontained | ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ███████ Immediate recovery is critical. SCP-8080 — Eleanor Ellory Goes To Therapy ◇ An entry for the SCP-8080 "Fantasy" Contest, by Uncannyon ◇ ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} Attention You do not have sufficient security clearance to access the full version of this document: SCP-8080 Some information may be obscured Attempt: Friendship Foundation Area-22 researchers Dr. ELEANOR ELLORY and Dr. DEAN WALKER lie side by side on large square of cloth. Their fingers are close, but not quite touching. A tripod telescope stands a little way to their left with a red thermos of coffee beside it. They gaze upwards at a vast ocean of brilliant stars that gleam like polished gem stones. Around them a field of soft green meadow grass seems to go on and on forever. The air is crisp and calm. It's past midnight but the season is warm and neither researcher is shivering under their coats. Ellory: Damn. That's pretty. Walker: They're not half bad, are they? Ellory: Yeah, I've got to hand it to you. You really pushed the boat out this time. WALKER laughs. Walker: Man, I wish I could take the credit for those. Ellory: Oh go on, take just a little bit. You did bring us out here. Walker: The trick is zero light pollution. Get away from the cities and the buildings and its like this every night. Ellory: I guess I should get away more often then. Walker: That's fine by me. You're always welcome here, Eleanor. She smiles. For a while, they lie together in silence. Ellory: Thank you, by the way. For inviting me, I mean. I can't remember if I'd said it yet. Walker: You've thanked me literally a thousand times! Ellory: Pff, You're exaggerating. Walker: Only by a little bit. You thank people a lot Eleanor. Last time I bought you a yoghurt you practically thanked me after every other bite. And you kept assuring me how delicious it was. I mean, I would have understood if I'd made it at home or something but it was from the Area canteen. Ellory: Hey now, look here mister. I didn't come out here to be accurately accused of things, OK? WALKER grins. Walker: Oh yeah? Why did you come out here Eleanor? Ellory: Because you invited me over and over again and gradually wore me down until I agreed. Like a good friend. Walker: A best friend. Ellory: My awesomest friend. There is silence for a moment. Ellory: My only friend. Walker: Hey, don't say that. Ellory: It's true, though. Isn't it? Walker: Well, if it is, and that's a big if mind you, then that just means that there's more of you for me, doesn't it? Ellory: Oh shush. If you say weird stuff like that I'm going to start thinking you're getting ideas about me. WALKER wiggles his eyebrows. Walker: Maybe I am. ELLORY laughs. Ellory: Don't goof. We wouldn't work. Walker: Why not? Ellory: Well, people would stare. Walker: What's there to stare about? Ellory: Well there's the height difference for a start. And the… ELLORY places a hand self-consciously on her stomach. Ellory: … and stuff. Prettyboys don't end up with… you know. Walker: No I do not know. ELLORY rolls her shoulder blades uncomfortably. Ellory: Look, let's not talk about it right now, please. Walker: Of course. No problem. Whatever you want. Again, there is silence. Walker: We could do this next weekend too, if you felt like it. If tonight goes alright, I mean. Ellory: I'm certainly enjoying it so far. WALKER moves his hand ever so slightly, brushing the tips of his fingers against ELLORY's just for a moment. Walker: It's nice to be able to talk to you outside the office. It feels more like the real you. Ellory: Yeah. It feels… I don't know, easier to be myself out here. Away from work. Walker: You know I never feel like I'm actually away from work unless I'm in the middle of a field without a building in sight. It's not really the type of job you can put on and take off with your lab coat. Ellory: No. It's not. She pauses. Ellory: I know just what you mean. There's a kind of… horrible clinicalness that gets everywhere. Right down into your brain. You're never properly off the clock. You're never really on break. Not while you're there. Walker: I swear the flickering ceiling light in the canteen is secretly a cognitohazard to keep us docile in the workplace. ELLORY laughs. Ellory: I wouldn't put it past them. Walker: Oh I'm only half joking. I mean, can you be an effective shadowy global superpower and not be able to fix a goddamn light bulb? Ellory: Right? Where's the government-toppling budget when you need it? There's a long pause. Ellory: The Foundation is… weird. Walker: Boy is that the understatement of the century. Ellory: No, I mean weird in the sense of like… oh, look, don't worry about it. We're meant to be getting away from work stuff. I'd just bore you. Walker: No go on. You could never bore me, Eleanor. Ellory: Well, you see these people on breaks and at lunch. Ordinary, normal people - well, normal-ish - and then they go away, and half of them do these terrible, awful things. They make notes and sign pieces of paper and order tests and then other people are made to suffer, or die, or live in a glass box forever. And you're always just one assignment away from being one of them. Walker: Yeah, I think I see what you mean. It's not always an easy job, I suppose. I guess I'm kind of glad I'm not at the decision making level. I wouldn't know what to do. ELLORY pulls herself up into a sitting position and begins to play with a few strands of grass, twisting them around her fingers. Eventually she turns to look down at WALKER. Ellory: Dean, do you like what you do? Walker: I like what I'm doing right now. Ellory: Behave. I mean… you know what I mean. Walker: Working for the Foundation? I can't say I get up every day jumping for joy and bounding out the front door. It's a job. A very strange job sometimes, but still a job. Ellory: Why did you join? Walker: Well, it seemed like a pretty good deal at the time. I had skills they wanted, they had money I wanted and the option of not bleaching my brain and throwing me… out on the street. Plus I figured it would be a little more interesting than the type of stuff I'd be doing on the outside. But hey, not the first time I've been wrong. And what about you? What made you give up on the mortal world and join the mighty and glorious Foundation? The glitz? The glamour? Those delicious canteen yoghurts? ELLORY laughs. Ellory: You'll laugh at me if I tell you. Walker: I wouldn't dream of it. Cross my heart and hope to die. Ellory: I wanted to make the world a better place. Is that a dumb answer? Walker: It's a very you answer. Ellory: I know it might sound like a contradiction in terms, given where we work, but I when I was offered the job I thought… well, here it is. What I've been waiting for. Somewhere where I can actually, personally, make a difference. This is going to come across as really egotistical, but I've always felt like there was something I was meant to do. I had a pretty crappy childhood. My father didn't stay around long, and given what my mother was like I'm not sure I can completely blame him. I was always… on the outside. The silly, ugly, fat girl. The swot. The one who actually tried on tests. No one likes those kinds of girls. The only people who hang out with you are the girls who want to make themselves look prettier. And it always felt like… like there had to be a reason for enduring all that. A purpose. A way to do something good and important. Walker: And did you find something? A purpose, I mean? A way of making a difference? Ellory: I think so. Recently, I think… yeah. I think I have. And good thing too, because I certainly didn't end up making any more friends at work than I did at school. Walker: Eleanor, you're way, way too hard on yourself. Ellory: It's true though! I've been working at Area-22 over a decade - thirteen freaking years - and I don't think I've had one single person round to my place, or ever gone to someone else's. Walker: Hey, I'm sure that's true for a lot of people. It's really not good to beat yourself up so much you know. You just end up making yourself more and more upset. Why not focus on the positive stuff? You said you've been doing something recently that's made you feel more fulfilled. What was that? Ellory: No, but like… OK, can I tell you something personal? Walker: Always. Ellory: Are you sure? Walker: Really, Eleanor, you can tell me absolutely anything. Ellory: It makes me feel so stupid and weak that it upsets me so much. But you know Sarah? Dr. Holbrook? So her birthday is two days before mine. And every single year she gets flooded with cards, individual, personal cards, and flowers, and then right afterwards it's my birthday. And the only card I ever get is the big group one from the department that half the people forget to sign. Every single year. I can't even bring myself to put it on my desk because hers is covered in cards and it just makes it so much more… so much more obvious that… ELLORY sniffs loudly and pulls a tissue out of her pocket to blow her nose. Walker: Hey, it's OK. It's OK. WALKER takes her hand and squeezes it. Walker: It doesn't mean anything. You're an incredible person, Eleanor. You're smart, and you're funny, and you do amazing things. And you are sitting here with me under the stars, not Sarah Holbrook. ELLORY manages a small laugh and wipes her eyes. Ellory: Yeah. That's true. It's a nice place to be. She leans against him. Ellory: Thank you. Sorry. Thank you. Walker: Hey, don't mention it. Ellory: I don't know what on earth I'd do without you. Walker: Well you never have to worry about that Eleanor. Ellory: How the heck did I end up with a friend like you, huh? Walker: Just terrible luck I guess. She laughs, and squeezes WALKER's arm. They sit in silence again for a while. Ellory: Hey Dean… how did we become friends, actually? Walker: Oh, god, I don't know. We've been friends forever. ELLORY straightens up. Ellory: You don't know? Walker: I- Huh? Eleanor, what's wrong? Ellory: Like, you literally don't know? Because I don't know either. We've been friends for as long as I can remember, but- Christ, Dean, when did we even meet? Walker: Um… does it matter? Ellory: Of course it matters! Does it not worry you that we've just had a whole conversation about me not having friends at work except we're friends except neither of us can remember how we actually met? I don't… You've never been to my place, have you? We hang out literally all the time but I've never had anyone from work visit my apartment. Walker: Eleanor- Ellory: Dean… why have you never given me a birthday card? We've been best friends forever but I know that no one ever, ever gives me a birthday card. Walker: Yeah, I guess that was a bit of an oversight. Ellory: What? Walker: Control, can you pause the sequence? Ellory: WHAT!? Item#: 8080 Level5 Containment Class: █████████ Secondary Class: █████████ Disruption Class: ██████████ Risk Class: ██████████ link to memo Special Containment Procedures SCP-8080 was ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ under the jurisdiction of the Anomalous Asset Programme ███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ███████████████████████████████████████████████ ████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ Immediate recovery is critical. Description SCP-8080 █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ███████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ Therapy Session Record - E. Ellory Extract 1 Foundation Therapist: Dr. Olivia Carrigan (via remote link) Patient Name: Eleanor Ellory SECURITY CLEARANCE: LEVEL 5 Patient has expressed concerns regarding recent unusual dreams which may be related to workplace stress and exhaustion. Patient suffers from recurring depressive episodes and severe negative self-esteem. DR. CARRIGAN: Good afternoon. Is everything coming through clearly? E. ELLORY: Hi. Uh, yes. Good afternoon. I mean, yes, everything's clear. DR. CARRIGAN: Good. Well, my name is Doctor Olivia Carrigan. You can call me Doctor, or Doctor Carrigan. And how would you like me to address you? E. ELLORY: Just Eleanor. Eleanor is fine. DR. CARRIGAN: Thank you Eleanor. And would you prefer to have this session with or without webcams on? E. ELLORY: Without. Um, I mean, would it be OK to have it without, please? DR. CARRIGAN: Of course. Whatever you're most comfortable with. Do you have something warm to drink? E. ELLORY: Um, no. Should I have? DR. CARRIGAN: Only if you'd like to. For longer sessions some people find it helpful to have something to lubricate their throats. E. ELLORY: Right. That's smart. Sorry. I should have thought. Sorry. DR. CARRIGAN: You don't have to be sorry Eleanor. Would you like to go and make some tea or coffee? E. ELLORY: No I'm- It's fine. I don't want to waste your time. I've got some throat sweets somewhere anyway. DR. CARRIGAN: As you like. E. ELLORY: So, uh… where do we start? DR. CARRIGAN: Where would you like to start? E. ELLORY: Um… I'm not sure. Sorry. DR. CARRIGAN: I understand that you wanted to discuss some dreams that you've been having? E. ELLORY: Yes. Um. Sorry. That's a really stupid thing to bring to a therapist, isn't it? DR. CARRIGAN: Not at all. There are no stupid things to talk about in therapy if you feel that they're affecting your mental wellbeing. And a great many people have dreams which they find confusing or concerning that they would like professional support to unpack. E. ELLORY: Right. Thank you. Have you spoken to many people about their dreams? DR. CARRIGAN: I'm afraid I cannot discuss my interactions with other patients. E. ELLORY: Right. Right. Of course. Sorry. Stupid of me to ask. DR. CARRIGAN: Why don't you start by telling me about one of the dreams that you've experienced recently? E. ELLORY: Well, I can't remember all of it. DR. CARRIGAN: That's perfectly normal. Just tell me whatever you can. E. ELLORY: Well… there was one where I was stargazing. I was in this big, big field under the night sky. Only there were way too many stars for it to be real, but you don't really notice things like that in a dream, do you? DR. CARRIGAN: We often can encounter strange and nonsensical things in our dreams that we only become aware of after we wake. E. ELLORY: And I was with a man. He worked here. At the Foundation I mean, in my department. I mean he doesn't work here really. But I dreamed that he did. I dreamed that we worked together, and he'd invited me out to… a field somewhere, I can't remember where, to look at the sky. And we talked and talked and it was lovely. We talked about work, and the Foundation, and all the stuff we didn't like about it, and why we were here. He was very handsome. And he… well I think he, uh, flirted with me, a few times. DR. CARRIGAN: That sounds like a very normal subject for a dream. E. ELLORY: Right. But then it all went really wrong, somehow. I'd… I think I'd noticed that my dream didn't make sense? That the guy I'd dreamed up couldn't be real because my memories of him contradicted themselves. And it was a horrible feeling. Like the floor of my stomach had dropped out. DR. CARRIGAN: You became aware that it was a dream? E. ELLORY: No, not even that. It was just this one guy who… and he said something that made me so, so frightened but I can't remember what it was. DR. CARRIGAN: Is there a colleague in your department who you think this figure might perhaps have represented? E. ELLORY: No. I mean I don't think so. I'm not really friends with anyone in my department. Anyone here at all, really. DR. CARRIGAN: I see. Do you think it's possible that part of your dream may have been a reflection of your concern over that lack of close workplace relationships, and perhaps a fear that if you were to make more connections with your colleagues that they might prove to be somehow false or unworthy? E. ELLORY: Yeah, I… Yeah. That would make sense. DR. CARRIGAN: I see from your previous therapist's notes that in past sessions you've discussed having issues with self-esteem. Is that something that you're still finding difficulty with? E. ELLORY: Yeah. That's… that's definitely something I have a lot of problems with. DR. CARRIGAN: Well, this dream could certainly have been influenced by some of those emotions. E. ELLORY: Yeah. DR. CARRIGAN: But equally it could have other interpretations. There seemed to be a focus on your job, for example. Have you faced any additional stresses or challenges at work recently? E. ELLORY: There have been… a few things that have come up, yes. Attempt: Fantasy Sunblood champion ELEANOR ELLORY begins to climb the grand crystalline steps of Glyzan Tower. She is just seventeen years old, the youngest sunblood in the last century. And already one of the most accomplished. Below her the entrance hall full of apprentices point and whisper conspiratorially, but she pays them no heed. This is her moment of triumph, and not even the jeers of the dark-robed Rye Blacksong can deflate her spirits. She climbs first past the amethyst staircase, then the emerald and the ruby. She shivers as she passes over the onyx stairway, feeling the seductive throb of its dark power, before finally reaching the top of the topaz steps. Grand Magus DEAN WALKER is waiting for her, beaming with pride. His looks resplendent in his ceremonial golden crown. His ornate robes of purple and turquoise seem to shimmer with ethereal beauty in the light of the hundreds of candles that line the walls. Walker: Well, well, well, my dear dear Eleanor Ellory. There were times - dark times, treacherous times - when even I did not believe you would live to stand here before me today. Your father would be so proud of what you have accomplished. ELLORY bows low before him, pulling a golden sword from her side and laying it upon the floor in front of her. Ellory: It my honour to offer my fealty to you, Grand Magus Walker. And my eternal loyalty. Walker: And great is that loyalty, young sunblood. The trials you have undergone, both as an apprentice of our order and beyond it… not even our greatest lightweavers have braved half as much in twice the time. The world owes you a great deal, Eleanor. ELLORY gives a shy smile as she picks up her blade and returns it to her silver scabbard. Ellory: And I could not have done so much of a quarter of it without my friends, Grand Magus. Or, for that matter, without you. Walker: Quite, quite. Bold are we together, and broken are we apart. You have been most fortunate in your allies, and most deserving of their companionship. But your trials today are for you and for you alone. Are you prepared to meet them, Eleanor? Ellory: I am. But you're wrong, Grand Magus. My friends are always with me, even when they're not standing by my side. Even those who have passed to the sunless lands. Everything I am is because of their strength and sacrifices. I am never alone, Grand Magic. WALKER gives a creaking, wizardly laugh and claps his hands. Walker: Indeed yes! You know Eleanor, it takes a very brave girl to call an old wizard "wrong" to his whiskers. I hope to see a good few more of those anointed here before my time is done. Just for a moment a small frown creases ELLORY's brow. Ellory: You don't have any whiskers. WALKER ignores her. Walker: But the future has waited long and can stand to wait a little longer. Today is your day, Eleanor. And I know that you shall make us proud. Summon your courage, young champion. Your graduation anointment trial is about to begin. WALKER leads ELLORY to the centre of a large circle cut into the dark stone floor. Beautifully twisting lines curve across its surface in a complex spiralling pattern. Above them, the clear crystal windows let in the dazzling morning sun. Walker: First, the Trial of Wits. Three devious questions to probe your knowledge, wisdom and cunning. Are you ready to answer? Ellory: I am, Grand Magus. Walker: Good. Good. Then tell me, child… what is it that gets wetter as it dries? Ellory: Huh? I… I mean, that's… a towel? WALKER throws his hands up in astonishment. Walker: Of course! Brilliant, my girl, quite brilliant! And now, ahem, hold on. Uh… A box without hinges, key, or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid. What is it? Ellory: That's… that's not from Sunblood. Walker: But you do know the answer, don't you? Ellory: … It's an egg. Walker: Wonderful! Fantabulous! A prodigy! My word how does she do it? And now, Eleanor, for your final and most important riddle, tell me this: Where exactly is SCP-8080? Ellory: I… what? Walker: You know the answer, Eleanor. Where is SCP-8080? It's your final test. Go on. Say it, and you shall be a full member of our glorious order! Ellory: But… wait, what about the other graduation challenges? The trials of Courage and Strength? Walker: Forget about the other trials, Eleanor. This is all that matters. SCP-8080 is missing and only you are brave and smart and special enough to work out where it's gone. ELLORY backs away slowly, shaking her head. Ellory: This is wrong. Walker: Eleanor- Ellory: This is all wrong! God… None of this is real, is it? WALKER rolls his eyes and sighs in annoyance. Walker: Oh sod it. Honestly I think I was already onto a loser by the first riddle. Control, do they even have towels here? When did they invent the towel? Control: Huh… you know I actually have no idea. But it's fantasy rather than historical so I don't think it would matter that much. Ellory: Just what the hell is going on and WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO? Walker: Control, halt the sequence. I never liked this one anyway. Although apparently I can do a damn good wizard. Therapy Session Record - E. Ellory Extract 2 Foundation Therapist: Dr. Olivia Carrigan (via remote link) Patient Name: Eleanor Ellory SECURITY CLEARANCE: LEVEL 5 Patient has expressed concerns regarding recent unusual dreams which may be related to workplace stress and exhaustion. Patient suffers from recurring depressive episodes and severe negative self-esteem. DR. CARRIGAN: Tell me about the next dream you remember. E. ELLORY: That one was… a lot weirder honestly. DR. CARRIGAN: Dreams can often be very strange. People have talked about them and written about them and studied them for almost as long humans have existed, and we still only have the barest understanding of why they exist and what, if anything, they're for. E. ELLORY: Maybe one day we'll find out that they've secretly been some kind of anomaly the whole time. DR. CARRIGAN: Maybe we will. But for now, tell me about what happened in your dream. [ Eleanor fiddles with her sleeve. ] E. ELLORY: It's… honestly it's a bit embarrassing. DR. CARRIGAN: Everything we discuss here is perfectly confidential. You're welcome to share as much or as little as you're comfortable with. E. ELLORY: Well, um, have you ever read the Sunblood series by Lilly Wu? DR. CARRIGAN: I have not. E. ELLORY: Well it's a YA series that, well it's not like my favourite or anything. But when I was trying to get back into learning to draw, I used to try and doodle things from those books a lot. Characters and objects and stuff. I mean there's a lot of hokey writing in them but, you know, they always felt kind of comforting. So I guess they must have been on my mind a lot. DR. CARRIGAN: It's perfectly alright to enjoy things, Eleanor. Go on. E. ELLORY: Well the dream was just… kind of that. Like it was part of the plot of the seventh book, sort of. Except I was the main character. DR. CARRIGAN: That's a very common fantasy. A lot of people dream about being a character from a piece of media they've felt a particularly strong connection to. E. ELLORY: I don't! I mean I have literally never had a dream like that before in my life. It was so weird. I mean, when I read books I don't even really associate myself with the main characters. I like hearing about other people's stories, not, you know, projecting myself into them. DR. CARRIGAN: Well, perhaps somewhere in your subconscious there's a part of you that feels like it wants to be the hero of its own story. E. ELLORY: I guess. Perhaps. But honestly that doesn't really feel very… me. DR. CARRIGAN: You might surprise yourself. But maybe that means you were drawn to that setting for a different reason then. You said that it was a book series that you've been able to find comfort in when you were drawing. Sometimes we can dream ourselves into places that we associate with safety or happiness either as a form of protection from something unpleasant or as a kind of reward for ourselves if we feel that we've done something good. E. ELLORY: I've never had something like that before either. Do you get those kinds of dreams? DR. CARRIGAN: Occasionally. E. ELLORY: What are yours about? If you don't mind me asking, sorry. DR. CARRIGAN: Not at all. I dream about lying out on a great big yacht in the middle of the ocean with nothing around for miles. Gently bobbing up and down in the waves. It makes me feel calm and peaceful. E. ELLORY: Well, this dream didn't feel very calm or peaceful. It felt… DR. CARRIGAN: Yes? [ Eleanor frowns. ] E. ELLORY: It wasn't right! It was all messed up. Like, the Grand Magus was wrong. He kept getting the words wrong and he was much too young. And there were riddles but one of them was from The Hobbit. And… they talked about towels for some reason? What kind of sense does that make? DR. CARRIGAN: Dreams aren't a place where sense is in control, Eleanor. Dreams often jumble things up, taking ideas and thoughts from disparate parts of your life and blending them together. Sometimes perhaps your subconscious sees more connections than your consciousness does. And sometimes perhaps it's just randomised noise. E. ELLORY: And then… it was the oddest thing. The Grand Magus asked about SCP-8080. Attempt: Fear Commander ELEANOR ELLORY, the leader of MTF Alpha-99 "Dying Light", is checking her weapon and counting how many bullets she has left. Her hands are shaking as she fills the chamber. Around her stand the remnants of her team, their guns raised in a protective ring, awaiting her orders. Their call signs are Smokey, Clicker, Boomboy, and DEAN WALKER. The room they're standing in is dark and decrepit, illuminated only by the dusty, flickering, light of filthy, antique bulbs. The walls and floor are composed of gnarled planks of wood that do nothing to keep out the icy chill of the night air. There are no windows. There haven't been windows in any of the rooms they've passed through since entering the house, despite the appearance of windows on the outside of the building. A set of worn wooden doors stand at each end of the room, their red paint faded and peeling. The carpet beneath their feet is red too, but this is a fresh red. A sticky red. In the corner of the room is a dressmaker's mannequin facing the wall. From below, there's a noise like the starting of a chainsaw and then an ear splitting, howling scream cuts through the air. Smokey lowers his weapon and makes the sign of the cross on his body, muttering something inaudible. Ellory: Do we have any remaining Scrantons? Clicker: None. Ellory: Shit. Walker: Caveman was carrying the backup pack. Boomboy: Goddamn it. Walker: Not that they were doing much good anyway. I don't think they were even slowing them down. They just liked toying with us. There's a slow, tentative knock from behind the door that they've just come through. Unseen Voice: Mommy, why don't you want to pway wiv meeee? The group shudder. ELLORY looks like she's in danger of throwing up. Unseen Voice: Mommyyyyy, did I do someting w'ong? Did it make you mad when I ate your fwend? I'm sowwwyy, he was sho tasty lookin'. Pwease don't be mad at me mommyyyyy. Clicker: What the hell do we do now? Walker: Well, we can either fight out way back out and try to find an exit, or fight our way further in and try to neutralise whatever's causing all this. It's the boss's call. What do you want to do Eleanor? A look of absolute terror claws its way across ELLORY's face and for a moment she's unable to respond. Boomboy: We need orders, boss. We're counting on you. ELLORY swallows and closes her eyes for a moment, forcing herself to turn away from the door with the voice behind it and towards the one at the opposite end of the room. Ellory: We… go on. The way back isn't going to be any more safe, and we're close to the heart of this thing. I know it. I can feel it, somehow. Like a pressure in my skull. Boomboy kicks the door open and scans the corridor revealed beyond. It appears to be empty. Boomboy: All clear boss. Smokey: Uh, hey boss? You'd better take a look at this. The members of MTF Alpha-99 turn their heads. Smokey is now in the middle of the room, his feet hanging an inch above the floor. The left arm of the dressmaker's mannequin is lodged through the middle of his chest. Blood is soaking through his uniform and dropping down onto the already damp carpet. Smokey's eyes are vacant and lifeless, but his lips continue to move. Smokey: Hey boss, you better take a look at this. Hey boss- Ellory: Shit! The task force members respond with a volley of shots into the mannequin. It shakes and trembles from the impact, but otherwise the bullets appear to have no effect. With a whirring, clicking noise the mannequin drags the index finger of its right hand across Smokey's bloody front and draws a large, childish smile onto its blank face. Smokey: Hey boss, you better take a look at this. Look how pretty it is. Look how beautiful it is, mommy. Ellory: Cease fire! Through the door! Go go go! Alpha-99 rush through the doorway while the mannequin begins to draw an eye onto itself. Smokey's body has started to laugh. The group enter a long wooden passageway with another door at the other end. Ellory: Keep ahead of it! Move fast but eyes open. The walls of the corridor are decorated with gruesome arcane sigils that have been drawn alternately in blood and faecal matter. Halfway along a pair of human hands have been nailed to the wall surrounded by a chalk circle. "The Maker Is Unworthy" is written above them. The sound of a man loudly sobbing can be heard as they pass. They pour into the next room and look around, weapons ready. It looks like a grim parody of a nursery. A dozen old wooden children's cots have been placed on the floor with a bleeding dismembered body part resting in each. ELLORY squirms with revulsion as she catches sight of Caveman's severed head lying in one of them. All around the room are shelves of dolls with white porcelain faces. Ugly brown-red stains bleed from their eye sockets. As the group enters the room the dolls' heads swivel to face them. They giggle eerily. Doll 1: Mommies and daddies! Doll 2: They came to pway with us! Doll 3: They made us wait sho long! Boomboy raises his gun and puts a bullet through the third doll's head. It falls from its shelf with a horrible high-pitched scream and writhes on the floor. Doll 3: I don't like this game, daddy! The first doll throws itself from a shelf. As it lands on the ground six rusty spider-like hydraulic limbs burst out of its torso. The metal legs are non-uniform, and give the impression of having been cobbled together from scrap. The doll scuttles towards Boomboy with a disturbing grinding noise. Doll 1: Look daddy! Imma puppy! Careful daddy, or I'm gonna eat up all your toes! The lower half of its mask breaks in two, revealing a mechanical mouth filled with jagged rusty nails. Boomboy tries to shoot at it but his gun clicks empty. Two more dolls drop from their shelves and begin to crawl after it, sprouting extra limbs of their own. Doll 5: Oh Daddy, you have pwetty eyes! Can I keep them? Can I can I can I? Doll 6: I want your teef Daddy! Pwease say I can have them daddy I'll love you for ever and ever and ever! All of the dolls have begun to move, metallic spider legs tearing out of their sides. En mass, they leap from the shelves onto Boomboy, their weight knocking him to the floor. He screams. ELLORY tries to raise her gun but Walker pushes it down again. Walker: You don't have enough ammo to make a dent! We have to keep going! Get to the next room! ELLORY hesitates for a moment, biting her lip, and then follows WALKER to the far door with Clicker at her side. All three remaining task force members charge through and Walker slams the door behind them. Ellory: How could we just- Walker: No time. Look. A ritual circle has been inscribed on the floor of the room in blood. The decaying corpse of a man is lying within it, his limbs extended. Both of his hands have been removed. A dull, pulsing red light emanates from his open mouth along with a continuous gurgling groan. The ruddy glow illuminates the words that have been scrawled on the wall behind him in giant letters. SCP-8080 IS THE KEY TO EVERYTHING. Ellory: SCP-8080… Walker: Eleanor, do you know anything about SCP-8080? It must be the solution to how we stop those things. Ellory: No… I mean, yes, I do, but… but this isn't right. SCP-8080 has nothing to do with any of this. Walker: Well it must do! It says so right over there. Ellory: That's not possible. Walker: The writing's quite literally on the bloody wall, Eleanor! It's not exactly a subtle clue. ELLORY is almost in tears. Ellory: But I don't… I don't understand how SCP-8080 could be involved? Walker: That's fine, that's fine. Hey, we can work it out together. You and me. We're pretty smart, right? Just tell me everything you know about SCP-8080. Where is it right now, Eleanor? ELLORY pauses, fighting for words. Ellory: In… Area-22. Walker: No you stu- that's where it used to be. Where is it now Eleanor? You have to tell me or we're all going to die. We'll be ripped apart, bit by bit. Your whole team Eleanor. After we all trusted you. Is that what you want? Is this what you want? With a shrieking noise a portion of the wooden floor erupts in a shower of splinters. A giant mechanical hand in a torn and soiled white glove reaches upwards through the hole and snatches Clicker like a child picking up a toy. It drags her backwards. She screams in fear and pain as her ribs audibly crack. Ellory: NO! ELLORY lunges forward away from Walker and grabs hold of one of Clicker's arms, trying to pull her back from the hand's grip. Walker: Hey, let go! But ELLORY doesn't. Clicker is pulled down into the hole and ELLORY is dragged along with her. WALKER stares after them. Walker: Oh for fuck's sake. He angrily kicks the corpse in the circle. It crumbles apart into dust. Walker: Shut it down, Control. Goddamn. Goddamn. I was close that time! Fucking hero act. What a dumb b- Therapy Session Record - E. Ellory Extract 3 Foundation Therapist: Dr. Olivia Carrigan (via remote link) Patient Name: Eleanor Ellory SECURITY CLEARANCE: LEVEL 5 Patient has expressed concerns regarding recent unusual dreams which may be related to workplace stress and exhaustion. Patient suffers from recurring depressive episodes and severe negative self-esteem. E. ELLORY: And, well, then I woke up. DR. CARRIGAN: As you were being pulled down into the hole? E. ELLORY: Yes. There was shouting above me and then just… darkness. And I woke up. DR. CARRIGAN: I see. You've never been part of a mobile task force, have you? E. ELLORY: Oh good god no. I've never been near one. I mean, well, look at me. I don't think I exactly have the… physique. Or the qualifications. Or the resilience. DR. CARRIGAN: And yet, when presented with a chance to risk your own life in order to try and help another, you took it. E. ELLORY: I mean, that was in a dream. I don't think it really counts. There wasn't any actual danger. DR. CARRIGAN: Perhaps. But your dream-self may not have known that. E. ELLORY: I guess. DR. CARRIGAN: Do you consider yourself to be a particularly self-sacrificing person? [ Eleanor noticeably lowers her gaze and rubs her feet against one another. ] E. ELLORY: I… I don't really know. I try to be, I suppose. It's important to me to try and do the right thing. Even when it's difficult. I don't like other people being hurt. Or inconvenienced. I guess sometimes I end up… taking on a lot of stuff because I know someone has to do it. Is that what the dream was about? DR. CARRIGAN: I can't make declarative statements about what a dream is or isn't about. It may be one element of it, and equally, it may not. The psychology of dreams is not an exact science. In fact, many of my colleagues would vehemently argue that it's not a science at all. E. ELLORY: Of course. Sorry. DR. CARRIGAN: There's nothing to be sorry about, Eleanor. We're just having a discussion. E. ELLORY: What other stuff do you think there might be? In the doll dream I mean. DR. CARRIGAN: Everything I say is going to be at most educated guesswork. E. ELLORY: I understand, I promise. I'd just… like to hear your opinion. DR. CARRIGAN: Well, one very prevalent interpretation of dreams that involve violence or bodily harm is that they can be the brain's way of trying to make sense of heavy levels of non-physical wear-and-tear. Worry. Stress. Anxiety. E. ELLORY: I see. DR. CARRIGAN: Does that sound relatable to you? E. ELLORY: Yeah. I mean, I guess its relatable to a lot of people, but… yeah. Things have been really tough just recently. DR. CARRIGAN: You've mentioned that SCP-8080 has been a recurring feature in two of your dreams so far. Have you experienced any stress or worry related to that case in particular? E. ELLORY: Yeah, I have. That would make a lot of sense, I guess. SCP-8080 was held in Area-22, where I work. I used to be one of the researchers assigned to the project. DR. CARRIGAN: Used to be? E. ELLORY: There was a containment breach. SCP-8080 has gone missing. Attempt: Reward Dr. ELEANOR ELLORY walks into the foyer of Area-22 to cheers and applause. Foundation staff are crowding the entranceway, beaming proudly and trying desperately to catch her eye. She gives a small, uncertain wave to the assembled crowd and the applause grows. As she walks forward colleagues begin to extricate themselves from the mass of bodies to shake her by the hand and offer their congratulations. A squealing Dr. Sarah Holbrook pulls her into an affectionate hug. Holbrook: Oh Eleanor! I am so, so glad it was you! I can't think of anyone who deserved it more! Ellory: I, uh, thank you. Holbrook: I can't believe I'm going to get to tell people that I worked in the same department as the woman who caught SCP-8080! Ellory: Caught…? Holbrook: You were so terribly terribly smart and clever and ahhh! I'm monopolizing you! Look, you have to come back to the department break room later - I mean, only if you want of course! Obviously you won't be slumming it with us for too much longer, but we thought we'd open a few bottles of bubbly, and, well, have a toast to your success. It would be just amazing to see you there, OK? Ellory: Um, OK. I mean, yes. Yes, of course. I'll be there. I'd love to be there. Holbrook: Super! Oh and do look sharp, I hear the big guy wants a word with you. Maybe he wants your autograph! Holbrook releases ELLORY with a laugh and heads away down a corridor to their shared department. She's almost skipping with excitement. ELLORY watches her go, stunned. Then the crowd parts and Area Director DEAN WALKER steps out to greet her with his arms outspread. His chiselled good looks are arranged into a perfect smile of delight. Walker: Eleanor Ellory! If it isn't the woman of the hour herself! What am I talking about? Woman of the millennium more like! Tracking down SCP-8080 all by yourself, my word. You know there are staff who have worked here their entire lives and haven't done as much for the world as you have. He puts a hand beside his mouth and speaks in an exaggerated stage whisper. Walker: I might just be one of them. The crowd titters with laughter. Dr. Marcus Cook, the head of ELLORY's department, holds up a sign reading THANK YOU ELEANOR. Walker: Now come, come! Away from this riffraff unfit to lick your boots. We have important matters to discuss in my office. WALKER puts a hand gently but firmly on ELLORY's back and begins to steer her along a corridor. Walker: I imagine you're already thinking about what you're going to do when you get out of this dump, eh? Ellory: Um… WALKER gives a large conspiratorial wink. Walker: I don't think I'm spoiling too much when I say that several little birdies have been telling that once your report on SCP-8080 clears a rather large promotion is winding its way to you. On the Ethics Committee. Ellory: The Ethics Committee? Do you… can you get promoted to the Ethics Committee for research work? WALKER pats her heavily on the shoulder. Walker: Well it certainly seems you can. But what on earth can't you do? Of course, tracking down SCP-8080 can hardly be described as mere research work. That takes brains. That takes guts. That takes a great sense of humour and a wonderful personality. And Eleanor, you've got the lot. Ellory: I don't know what to say. Walker: Don't say anything! Just imagining it, Eleanor. You leading the Ethics Committee- Ellory: Leading? Walker: Making sure the Foundation stays on the straight and narrow, just how you like it. Helping people. Seeing all those SCPs get top quality food and their own garden to roam around in. Free range anomalies! Ellory: I don't… I mean I'd never imagined… Walker: Well its only one option of course. There'll be plenty of positions available to you now. You could be a Site Director! You could have my job! This, Eleanor, could all be yours! WALKER pulls ELLORY into the Area Director's office and leads her over to his desk. Behind it a long line of floor-to-ceiling windows displays a sprawling garden beneath a perfect baby blue sky. He takes a seat and gestures her towards a chair. Walker: Now, Eleanor, there was just one small thing. I didn't want to mention it in front of the staff since it is a little embarrassing. He places a large document folder onto the desk, open to the first page. It's headed "SCP-8080" and features a smiling photograph of ELLORY. She looks radiant. Most of the page is filled in with technical details but there's a large space in the middle after the words "Present Location:" Walker: Your report on SCP-8080. You submitted it with one tiny mistake. You forgot to write down where SCP-8080 actually is. Now obviously if anyone found out that you'd made such an elementary error it would be catastrophic for your future career plans. But I'm your friend, Eleanor. And I like you. I want you to be the success you deserve to be. So I'm just going to let you fill it in now and we won't have to tell anyone else about your little faux pas, alright? WALKER flashes a winning smile as he hands her a pen. ELLORY takes it hesitantly, holding it over the page. Ellory: I submitted this? Walker: Yes Eleanor, now do go on. You haven't forgotten where SCP-8080 is have you? Goodness, just imagine how all those people who thought so highly of you would react if they heard you'd been so incompetent. Ellory: No, no, I haven't forgotten. Walker: Good. Good. Now just write it down here and it'll all be finished. ELLORY lowers the pen to the paper and tries to write, but nothing comes out of the nib. Ellory: Sorry, I think it's broken. Walker: Not a problem, not a problem. WALKER hands her a second pen. She tries again with the same result. Walker: Not a problem! WALKER pulls the pen out of her hand and violently throws it across the room. Walker: Here, have a pencil. He passes her one and begins drumming his fingers impatiently on the desk in front of him. ELLORY starts to write. Then after a few moments she raises the pencil and looks down in horror at the paper. She tries to pull the folder from the desk. Ellory: This isn't- Walker: Let me see! WALKER forcefully rips the folder from her grasp and inspects it carefully. ELLORY has written "FUCK YOU" fourteen times in the space provided. Walker: Great. That's just great. Thanks, Eleanor. Ellory: I'm so sorry, I don't understand what happened! WALKER leans back in his swivel chair and kicks at the ground. He makes two full rotations before stopping himself and leaning forward over the desk. Walker: Do you know what I don't understand Eleanor? Why you're such an ungrateful bitch. Ellory: What? Walker: I gave you everything that someone like you could want. I made you popular. I made people who wouldn't touch you with a barge pole sing your praises. I permitted you to believe that there were actually people in this world who cared about you. And what is my reward for my tireless hard work and kindness? He holds up the top page of the file and slowly crumples it into a ball. Walker: Frankly Eleanor at this point this is very clearly your fault rather than mine. I'm very good at what I do. I'm the best, in fact. So obviously the problem here is that there's something wrong with you. I'm sure you've heard that plenty of times before. ELLORY stands up. Ellory: You are not the Director. Just who the hell are you? WALKER throws his hands up in mock astonishment. Walker: I'm not? Gosh! You know your perpetual stupidity could be almost adorable if it was from someone just a bit more attractive. Well, maybe a lot more attractive. Ellory: You're… We've met before. I know you. Walker: Control, pause the sequence and get me a large drink. Actually two large drinks. Actually Control scratch the large drinks, there's something else I want to try. Therapy Session Record - E. Ellory Extract 4 Foundation Therapist: Dr. Olivia Carrigan (via remote link) Patient Name: Eleanor Ellory SECURITY CLEARANCE: LEVEL 5 Patient has expressed concerns regarding recent unusual dreams which may be related to workplace stress and exhaustion. Patient suffers from recurring depressive episodes and severe negative self-esteem. E. ELLORY: God, what a complete asshole. Why would I dream about someone like that? DR. CARRIGAN: A lot of unpleasant things can live in our heads. Sometimes dreams are a way for us to acknowledge and confront those fears. E. ELLORY: It's so weird. I know I haven't actually met that guy in real life, I'd remember that face, but… at the end of the dream, I had such a strong feeling of recognition. Like I'd known him from somewhere and I'd just worked out who he was. That was the last thing before I woke up. Feeling really good that'd worked out where I'd seen him before. DR. CARRIGAN: He might well have been a composite character. An amalgamation of men who have behaved abusively towards you in the past or who you hold negative feelings towards. And you may on some level of consciousness have identified one of the individuals who he represents. That would certainly qualify as a breakthrough. But at the moment I'm rather more interested in the role that SCP-8080 is playing in your dreams. E. ELLORY: Why? DR. CARRIGAN: Eleanor, in the last dream you described to me SCP-8080 has developed from a motif of your psyche to a fixation. As I've said, dreams are rarely uncomplicated things and one cannot say with absolute certainty what a dream is trying to tell you. But I believe that it would be extremely unlikely for such a specific element to recur so often if it was not something that was very important to you. E. ELLORY: I suppose. DR. CARRIGAN: Could you perhaps tell me a little bit about your work with SCP-8080? E. ELLORY: It has a pretty high security level… DR. CARRIGAN: I have the same security clearance that my patients do. You can speak as freely as you wish here Eleanor. It's entirely up to you, but I think that given everything you've told me so far it would be a beneficial topic to discuss. E. ELLORY: Alright. I can try. DR. CARRIGAN: Just as long as you're comfortable. E. ELLORY: SCP-8080 is a… juvenile female presenting humanoid that… look, she's a little girl, OK? God I hate that revolting, dehumanising, containment procedure-ese. She's a little girl. She's eight years old. And she is the most beautiful, perfect thing you will ever see. Or rather you won't see, because she's spent her entire life trapped in a box. DR. CARRIGAN: You felt the standards of her containment unit were lacking? E. ELLORY: She shouldn't be in a containment unit. She should be in a home. I- We did our best. All the researchers assigned to her care absolutely loved her. She was so sweet and so polite and so full of life. And if it had just been us, looking after her, maybe that would have been OK. But she was put straight into the Anomalous Asset Programme. You know who they are? DR. CARRIGAN: Why don't you tell me in your words. E. ELLORY: They make people into things. They take people with anomalous abilities and they make them into weapons or tools or batteries. For the greater good. [ Eleanor pulls out a tissue and blows her nose ] E. ELLORY: She wasn't dangerous by herself. She didn't have to live that way. They kept her like that because they wanted to use her. [ Eleanor puts the tissue back into her pocket and searches for another. ] E. ELLORY: You know they forbade us from even giving her a name? It would interfere with the AAP's education programme for her. So SCP-8080 it had to be. We did anyway. The researchers, I mean. Not around her, but in private. We called her Chloe. And it broke my heart not being able to tell her that. Not being able to tell her her own name. DR. CARRIGAN: And then there was a containment breach at Area-22. And she escaped. E. ELLORY: … Yeah. DR. CARRIGAN: You obviously care for her a very great deal. E. ELLORY: I do. I love her. I love her very much. Attempt: Love ELEANOR ELLORY is led out of a police car in handcuffs. Her shoulders are hunched and her eyes are fixed on the pavement. Her breathing is low and shallow. She's trembling. On either side of her, cordoned off by large police barriers, a group of activists stands and shouts. They wear shirts and are carrying placards with pictures of SCP-8080's face on them. "Give her back," one man bellows. "Scum!" screams a woman. A bottle arcs out of the crowd and shatters at ELLORY's feet. Two large officers, one on either side of her, quickly lead ELLORY up a set of stone steps and into the police station. There is silence inside. Police and civilians stare at her as she's walked past them in mute disgust. The walls inside the station are plastered with hundreds of posters showing the same blurry photograph of SCP-8080. KIDNAPPED is written in large black letters beneath the pictures. ELLORY is pushed into an interrogation room where Detective DEAN WALKER is already waiting for her. Walker: Sit. ELLORY does so. She does not look up. WALKER gestures to the handcuffs. Walker: We won't be needing those. I don't think this one's going to be giving us any trouble. One of the officers brusquely uncuffs her. ELLORY continues to stare at the table. Walker: Now then. Walker slides one of the KIDNAPPED posters across the table so that the picture is directly under ELLORY's gaze. Walker: Where is she, Eleanor? ELLORY's voice comes out in a low half-whisper. Ellory: You don't have any evidence. You don't have any proof. Walker: I don't care about proof right now Eleanor. Frankly I don't care much about you. I don't care if you rot in prison for the rest of your life or if you manage to squirm your way back onto the streets. All I care about right now is that a little girl is missing, and I want to bring her home safe. ELLORY squirms in her seat and wrings her hands together. Walker: And if you were capable of caring about her at all, you'd be helping me. Ellory: I do care about her. I love her. Walker: You wanted her, Eleanor. That's not the same thing. If you really loved her then you'd want what was best for her, not for you. Ellory: I know what's best for her and it's not that… that place! Walker: It's her home Eleanor. It's where she belongs. It's the only place she'll ever belong. Ellory: That's not true. Walker: You're being so cruel to her, Eleanor. So heartless. So selfish. Ellory: I'm not! WALKER leans forward, lowering his voice. Walker: You don't honestly think that someone like you could actually look after a child, do you Eleanor? You can't even look after yourself. ELLORY's hands tremble. Walker: Do you want her to have your life, Eleanor? Do you really want to punish her like that? ELLORY digs the nails of her right hand into the flesh of her left. Walker: Think about your childhood. No father to love you and a mother who, well… You can see why he left. And let's face it, you're bound to turn out the same way, aren't you? There are tears in ELLORY's eyes. She tries to blink them back. Walker: She's such a sweet, pretty little girl, isn't she Eleanor? Sure a pure little thing. What on earth has she done to deserve being burdened with a useless, decrepit old lump like you? Ellory: Shut up! Shut up! Walker: She needs to come home now. To be with her real family. With people who can actually take care of her. Ellory: Stop it… Walker: That poor little girl… all alone out there while you're in here. Whatever will she do if you don't come back? Ellory: She's not alone! I would never leave her alone! Walker: Oh? Then prove it to me Eleanor. Who's she with? Tell us their names. Let us make sure she's being taken care of properly. Ellory: No. No no no no no! Walker: You need to give up now, Eleanor. For her sake. Ellory: No… Walker: She's not yours, Eleanor. She's ours. ELLORY stays silent. She picks up the KIDNAPPED poster in front of her and stares at it. Walker: You want her to be safe, don't you? Ellory: Yes… Walker: Then tell me where SCP-8080 is. Ellory: … Alright. Alright. You're right. She needs… she needs this. WALKER smiles benevolently. Walker: That's it. Tell me where she is. Ellory: She's in… I can't… I can't remember… Walker: Just think hard, Eleanor. Try to picture it. Ellory: It's cold and… there's a big building. With stone. It's in a town that… I can't quite see the name… I can't… I can't… Oh god, I can't remember! Can… can I have five minutes to get some air? Walker: I need to know NOW Eleanor! Ellory: Please! Just five minutes. I can't see it! It's all so blurry. I just need to calm down. I'm so close. Walker: … Alright. Yeah, sure, fine. Five minutes. ELLORY stands up, puts the poster face down on the table and walks unsteadily to the door. No one stops her. After a few moment WALKER breathes out heavily. Walker: Hoo! Well, I think that's pretty much mission accomplished Control. Let's make that three obnoxiously large drinks with as many umbrellas and sparklers as you can cram into them. Control: You don't have the info yet. Walker: Yeah, but I will. I know how it is when they get to that level. She's broken. The dream sequence is probably just messing with her real memory retrieval. It happens sometimes. Control: If you say so. WALKER begins to tap on the table with his fingers and hum to the tune of Africa by Toto. After a little over a minute he reaches out and pulls the paper poster towards him, flipping over. Walker: And I hope they're bloody grateful. All this work for one snot-nosed little- Oh fucking fuck-shit! WALKER leaps to his feet, knocking over the interview table. The word KIDNAPPED on the poster has disappeared and in its place is written, in ELLORY's handwriting, "This isn't real. Don't tell them anything. Get out." WALKER lunges at the door and turns the handle, but it remains shut. Walker: Why is the fucking door locked Control? Control: Well I didn't do it! Walker: That goddamn BITCH! WALKER violently kicks at the door until it splinters and breaks open. Outside every poster displaying SCP-8080 has changed. The word KIDNAPPED has been replaced by SAVE HER. Walker: Where the fuck is she? Control: I don't know! Why didn't the cops stop her? Walker: Because I made them to glare at her in ominous silence, not to catch escaped prisoners! Fuck! WALKER rampages through the police station, searching. As he knocks into police officers they fall apart into nothingness. Control: Do I pause the sequence? Walker: Not when we don't have eyes on her, moron. It'll take days to reset. Control: How did she change the posters? And affect the lock? Walker: Obviously she's influencing the dream. She's gaining resilience to the system. Control: I thought you only got that if you did the same sequence over and over? Walker: Yeah, well, I guess you thought wrong then shit-for-brains. Control: That's just what you told me. Walker: I KNOW WHAT I FUCKING TOLD YOU YOU PIECE OF- Oh goddammit. There's a door in a wall where a door shouldn't be. It's hanging open, and beyond it is the fictionalised office of DEAN WALKER, Director of Area-22. Walker: Control, you haven't cleared the data stack right? Control: Nope. Walker: She's burrowing. Well, that's not a problem. Lots of rodents do it. WALKER strides through the door into the office. On the other side of the room another door is waiting, leading to a bloody wooden corridor. WALKER continues on. From the darkness something shouts "Daddy!" at him. He raises a middle finger. Walker: Not in the mood. WALER steps through another door into a crystal-lined hall. Rye Blacksong gives him a sinister smile and steps out in front of him. WALKER turns him to dust. Walker: Not in the sodding mood. He walks through a final door into a meadow beneath an overcrowded starry sky. ELLORY is there, facing away from him and panting. Walker: End of the line, Eleanor. ELLORY turns sharply and hurls a red thermos flask at him. It bounces off harmlessly but the coffee sloshes out of it, covering his face and hair and staining his police detective outfit. Walker: God fucking dammit! Ellory: Get the hell out of my dreams you Freddy Krueger wannabe asshole! WALKER raises a fist to strike her but catches himself at the last moment. He spits coffee out onto the grass and glowers. Walker: Don't you see how completely pointless this all is? There's no way out, Eleanor. There's no exit button. There's no point in fighting. All that's going to happen is that we have to do this whole song and dance again and again and again until you tell me where SCP-8080 is hiding. Ellory: Fuck you. Her name is Chloe and she is a child. She is eight years old. Does that not mean anything to you? Do you not care what's going to happen to her if she's found? Walker: Honestly? Not really. So it's a kid. There's like a billion of them. I don't particularly care if they want to weaponise it or lock it away or cut up into tiny itty bitty little pieces. It's not my job to care. It wasn't your job to care, Eleanor. It's my job to crack skulls open and see what juicy little secrets tumble out, and I happen to be very, very good at it. I have an almost unblemished record which you are not going to mess up. So please, save us both some time and tell me where it is. ELLORY leans forward and spits in his face. Ellory: She is safe, and you are never going to find her. WALKER's face flushes crimson with fury. He raises a fist again but lets it drop. Walker: Fine. We'll keep playing it your way, Eleanor. It'll be more fun anyway. Control, stop this sequence and prep that new one I've been working on. d925c51b. Control: Uh, that wasn't actually on our approved list for today's session, so I don't think it has official clearance yet. Walker: Control, I'm not having a good day today. And really soon I'm going to have to take that out on someone. Don't make that someone you. Therapy Session Record - E. Ellory Extract 5 Foundation Therapist: Dr. Olivia Carrigan (via remote link) Patient Name: Eleanor Ellory SECURITY CLEARANCE: LEVEL 5 Patient has expressed concerns regarding recent unusual dreams which may be related to workplace stress and exhaustion. Patient suffers from recurring depressive episodes and severe negative self-esteem. E. ELLORY: And then, right, and then it was like I was actually controlling the dream. Or sort of me anyway. Like a subconscious me. Or an unconscious me. Leavening me messages from me. DR. CARRIGAN: You were lucid dreaming? E. ELLORY: No, because, look- sort of? But listen, OK, listen. I went through the other dreams. All the other weird dreams I've had. They are literally all connected. DR. CARRIGAN: We can frequently shift from one scenario to another within the same dream, often without it making much sense. E. ELLORY: Ohhhh but this made sense alright. Absolute sense. Because I realised that it's the same guy! In every dream, it's the same guy. The guy I recognised. The douchebag. [ Eleanor clicks her fingers in frustration. ] E. ELLORY: God, it's on the tip of my tongue. I can't remember his name but he's there, he's always there. And I hit him with a thermos flask. DR. CARRIGAN: Eleanor, you're becoming quite excited. I'm glad that you're in a positive mind space at the moment and appreciate your enthusiasm, but do you think we could dial things back just a little bit. Dreams can be a fascinating subject to explore and discuss, but they are just dreams. [ Eleanor claps her hand together in small rapid movements. ] E. ELLORY: No, no but you see that's the thing. I don't think these are just dreams. I don't think that they're dreams at all. Or not real dreams anyway. I think this asshole is actually in my head. Because he wants SCP-8080. Because he wants to find Chloe. But he's not going to find Chloe, oh no no no. I hit that bastard with a thermos flask and I'll do it again! DR. CARRIGAN: Eleanor, please, calm down. We can discuss your thoughts in detail in a moment but I think it would be good for us to have a small pause here and deescalate. Would you take some deep breathes in and some deep breaths out for me? E. ELLORY: I don't have time for that! I've got to… um… I've got to… DR. CARRIGAN: Eleanor? Eleanor? Are you alright? Attempt: d925c51b ELEANOR ELLORY walks out of the warm afternoon sunshine and into the art gallery. She looks around her, fascinated. She knows all the pieces here. Most of them are from her inspiration board, the wall of her room where she keeps pictures of artworks that she hopes will inspire her to draw. She wanders through the gallery for a while until she finds herself sitting on a bench. Opposite her is a picture that makes her tremble. It's Eleanor Ellory, by Eleanor Ellory, and she last saw it when she was transferring it from her drawing pad to the recycling bin. It looks worse than she remembers, and it's been blown up at least ten times so that it dominates the entire wall. She looks at the irregular bumpy teeth, the uneven smile, the way the inexpert curve of her chin makes it look like it's become swollen from some severe allergic reaction. The hair looks like a single lifeless block. She grimaces at the two-dimensional-looking breasts she had included because she'd convinced herself that nudity and vulnerability made something more artistic. Nearby, a woman catches ELLORY's eye. ELLORY stares, her mouth agog. The woman is much younger than she should be, and thinner too, wearing a gorgeous black evening dress with diamonds around her throat. But it's unmistakably her mother, Pam. Pam surveys the painting with an unconcealed snort of laughter. ELLORY's father Michael steps up beside her and hands her a drink. He looks just the way he did in the one photograph she still has of him from before he left. But now he's wearing a tuxedo. ELLORY looks around to find that it has become night and that everyone in the gallery is now wearing expensive eveningwear. She tucks her sandal-clad feet under the bench and pulls uncomfortably at her thick knitted sweater. The front is covered in egg stains. A small crowd is forming around her drawing. There's the murmuring noise of many whispers layered on top of one another punctuated by audible sniggers. Sarah Holbrook stands in front of the picture in a stunning blue gown covered with sapphires. The rest of her department at Area-22 is in the crowd too. Marcus Cook looks dashing in a luxurious white suit. He points ELLORY's picture out to a junior colleague with a look of mock revulsion. "They'll put anything in a gallery these days," someone says to a chorus of laughter. "Perhaps it's just there for a little light relief between the actual art?" interjects another. "Comic relief perhaps," quips a third. Everyone is laughing. Holbrook: You know who it reminds me of? It's Eleanor. It's dumpy Eleanor. Cook: Of course it is! No wonder it gave us such a fright. The visitors from Area-22 nod and voice their approval. Holbrook: You know, I thought that grotesque chin had just been drawn badly, but if it's Eleanor then they've got it right on the money. The laughter swells. ELLORY's mother takes a cigarette from her mouth and looks around for an ashtray. Seeing none, she instead grinds it into ELLORY's picture. The laughter grows louder and louder. ELLORY sniffs loudly. She searches for a tissue to stem her streaming nose, but she can't find one. Walker: There's a lot more. DEAN WALKER, the fabulous, beloved, and deeply handsome art critic, is sitting beside her. Walker: Do you remember who I am Eleanor? Ellory: Yeah, you're Dean Walker. Walker: Well done. Ellory: You're that creepy asshole whose face I spat in. A flash of barely contained rage flits across Walker's face, but it's swiftly replaced by a rueful smile. Walker: I did warn you Eleanor. I tried really hard being nice, you know? I tried to be your friend. I tried to be your hero. I tried to do things the easy way with the minimum amount of disruption to that pink lumpy thing between your ears. But poor stupid Eleanor, you wouldn't have it. The picture of ELLORY has caught alight from her mother's cigarette. Fire spreads across the canvas to cheers from the gallery attendees. Behind the flames the artwork comes alive, clawing woefully at its face and sobbing fat cartoonish tears. The face warps, sprouting boils and blisters. Its chin becomes larger and larger. On the bench, ELLORY's eyes and cheeks are damp. Walker: So try this one on for size. You can tell me where SCP-8080 is, or I can leave you here. I'll put it into a loop, so you can go through it again, and again, and again. You won't be able to remember what's happening, and you'll never get used to it, but underneath you'll still have the nagging feeling that you've been here far, far too long. I can make it feel like years are passing in here Eleanor. Oh, I'll be sure to check in on you every few decades or so, see that things are still functioning properly, find out if you've come to your senses and want to give me SCP-8080's location. Or you could do the smart thing and we can end it all right now. What do you say? ELLORY turns to him, tears still falling from her eyes, and laughs in his face. Ellory: This is what you're going with? Honestly. And you keep whining that you're good at your job. My brain does worse things to me than this on an average Friday night. WALKER's lip curls. Walker: I can make it worse than this, Eleanor. Much, much worse. I can make it forever. I can make it hell. ELLORY shakes her head. Ellory: You've never had a kid before, have you Dean? Not one you loved, anyway. Because if you think for even one single, solitary second that I would rather live my life having betrayed Chloe to a piece of shit like you than to sit here for eternity and listen to some figments of my imagination insult my weight and art skills then you're even more stupid than I thought. WALKER clenches his jaw. His cheeks are turning red. Walker: No I don't have any children Eleanor, but then again, neither do you. That's why you stole one from work. At least the normal old bags just buy a cat. ELLORY chuckles, drying her eyes. Walker: What's so fucking funny, bitch? Ellory: You are. You really don't like being told no, do you? Walker: Next time it comes out of your mouth you're going to be screaming it. WALKER reaches out a hand towards her throat as if to strangle her, but hesitates. Ellory: Go on. Try it. I'm not going to feel anything, am I? You can't actually feel pain in these dreams. Fear and panic and stress and exhaustion, yes, but not actual physical nerve-ending-firing pain. And that's why you keep stopping yourself from hitting me, and why you ended the doll dream when you did. Because if I realised that I couldn't be hurt, then I wouldn't have anything to be afraid of. You can't actually do anything to me. All you've got are tricks and schoolyard bullying. And actually most of the kids at my school were much better at it than you. WALKER punches the bench they're sitting on. It trembles and cracks form on the surface. Walker: I am going to make you suffer, Eleanor. I'll watch you beg and grovel for your freedom and then I'll lock you up anyway and throw away the key. Ellory: You're anomalous, aren't you? I mean, this dream stuff isn't just a piece of tech the Foundation has, is it? I really can't imagine they'd use you as an operative if they had absolutely anyone else available. Walker: You don't know the first fucking thing. Control, end the sequence. Ellory: Hey, come to think of it, do you really look like that? The prettyboy good looks, the gleaming teeth, the perfect hair, slightly ruined by the bulging eyes and the flecks of spittle at the mouth. Or is this job just where you get to fantasise? Walker: End the goddamn sequence Control! Therapy Session Record - E. Ellory Extract 6 Foundation Therapist: Dr. Olivia Carrigan (via remote link) Patient Name: Eleanor Ellory SECURITY CLEARANCE: LEVEL 5 Patient has expressed concerns regarding recent unusual dreams which may be related to workplace stress and exhaustion. Patient suffers from recurring depressive episodes and severe negative self-esteem. [ Eleanor laughs softly to herself. ] DR. CARRIGAN: Has something amused you, Eleanor? Would you like to share? E. ELLORY: No, no it's fine. You probably wouldn't see the funny side anyway. DR. CARRIGAN: Very well, just as you like. I think now would be a good to talk to talk a little more about your involvement with SCP-8080. E. ELLORY: Mmmmm, no. DR. CARRIGAN: Eleanor, I think- E. ELLORY: Nope! No, I think you've done enough thinking for one day. I'm going to think now, and do you know what I think? I think that Dean Walker is anomalous. And that he's the only one who can actually appear physically in my dreams. And that is why you are just a voice on a computer rather than actually being in the room. DR. CARRIGAN: Eleanor, I provide therapeutic support to Foundation employees at many facilities across the world. Unfortunately, I cannot be physically stationed at all of them simultaneously. E. ELLORY: You know, it's kind of amazing, the absolute nonsense that you accept as normal when you're dreaming, isn't it? Like going back and forth between having weird-ass dreams and having a therapy session about your weird-ass dreams with nothing at all in between. When am I supposed to have had those dreams, doctor? I haven't left here once since I started dreaming. DR. CARRIGAN: Eleanor, I don't think that you're very well. Could you do me a favour and make yourself a warm drink while I contact someone who can check in on you? E. ELLORY: Sorry Doctor, but I'm going to have to take a rain check on that. I've got things to do, places to be. [ Eleanor stands up, stretches, and then walks out of the room through the door. ] DR. CARRIGAN: … shit. Uh, hey Walker? We have a bit of a problem. D. WALKER: What is it Control? I'm busy. DR. CARRIGAN: She's figured it out. Could you come up to the therapy room? [ A new door appears in the wall of the room and Dean Walker steps through it. ] D. WALKER: Well? Where is she? DR. CARRIGAN: She left. D. WALKER: She can't leave. There isn't anywhere to leave to. [ Walker opens the door that Eleanor passed through. There's a solid black void on the other side. ] D. WALKER: Bugger. DR. CARRIGAN: Has she gone back into the sequence pile? D. WALKER: No. Much more annoying. I think she's actually gone into her own mind. Damn, she's adapting fast. DR. CARRIGAN: Walker, maybe this is the point where we should- D. WALKER: Shut up, Control. It's not a problem. She's a skulking, scuttling little troglodyte who got lucky and I'm, well, me. I can find her. Look, do me a favour. End the therapy sequence and then go and turn on the system's pain replicators. DR. CARRIGAN: … I don't have permission to do that. D. WALKER: I am giving you permission. DR. CARRIGAN: Walker, you don't have the authority to give that permission. We need to consult the Director and get written authorisation from the Ethics Committee before- D. WALKER: Oh fuck the Ethics Committee. I am not waiting however many hours it takes to get some impotent shit-eating desk humping suit to rubber stamp a piece of paper so I can do my fucking job. DR. CARRIGAN: But we can't. There'll be disciplinary action. D. WALKER: Who says they have to find out about it, huh? I just need a few hours. The Foundation want their brat back. They're not going to care how it happened once it's done. DR. CARRIGAN: If I can just call- D. WALKER: If you don't do what I fucking say right now then I'm going to tell them it's your fault she got away and your fault that they didn't get their precious SCP-8080 back. In fact, I'll refuse to do another job while you're still with the Foundation. I'll make sure you're out on your ass with absolutely nothing to your name. I'll make sure that every bit of work I do here is conditional upon having regular updates about how absolutely shit your life is. Who do you think they're going to choose to keep happy, hmm? Their one-of-a-kind golden boy who picks the brains of all their enemies and traitors and saves oodles and oodles of lives, or some worthless lab rat who could be replaced tomorrow? [ There is silence. ] D. WALKER: Yeah, that's what I thought. Oh and Control? Be a doll and make sure those drinks are ready for me too. Attempt: {[Undefined%;error_%;error_%;error_%;error_%;erro DEAN WALKER steps into a dream. He's standing in an offputtingly white room in an offputtingly clinical building that he recognises instantly. It's Area-22, though a much more faithful recreation than his own version. There is no cheering crowd of staff members here. There is no one here at all. No one except… He closes his eyes and feels the slight trembling hum of ELLORY's consciousness. His lips curl into a wide smile. Walker: Gotcha. WALKER pours his voice into the very foundations of the world around him. When he speaks it comes from everywhere and nowhere all at once, echoing through every part of the dream Area-22. He wants her to hear this. Walker: Well well well, Eleanor, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this besides ruining the scenery? He begins to walk through the facility, a spring in his step. Walker: You know, most people looking for a place of safety would dream themselves to their family or their friends but - oh dear! Of course, you don't have any of those things, do you? Doing paperwork in this place is about the closest thing you have to a life. He strolls along a corridor, whistling jauntily. Walker: Boy oh boy, how much are you wishing that you were back under that starry sky with good ol' Agent Walker, eh? You could have been happy there, Eleanor. But I guess even you're smart enough to know that you don't deserve that, right? WALKER enters the Area-22 canteen and begins to kick over tables. He laughs. Walker: Hey baby, how about a yoghurt? You know you love 'em! He moves into the kitchen space and picks up a large kitchen knife. He plays with it, slicing at the air, gauging its weight. Walker: Oh! You were right by the way. About the pain. Horribly incomplete of me, wasn't it? Denying you the full experience. But don't you worry your not-so-pretty little head about a thing, Eleanor. We take your feedback very, very seriously here and I've taken steps to fix that pesky defect. So do be careful if you stub your toe. WALKER pauses for a moment as he leaves the canteen and watches as the room starts to fall apart. Cracks spread through the walls and furniture as they crumble into dust leaving only a void of solid darkness behind. Walker: Let's play a game, Eleanor. You run, and I take away all the places you can hide. WALKER begins to move along a door-filled corridor at a leisurely pace, swinging his knife. Walker: Come out, come out, wherever you are. He opens each door as he passes them, glancing in and then moving on. They decay in his wake. Walker: I can feel you, you know. A little pressure at the back of my neck. Like a flea. Or an annoying boil. He carries on, roaming through the building. The world behind him disintegrates, masonry collapsing into nothingness, space collapsing into void. Walker: I'm getting tired of this Eleanor. Why don't you come out and we'll discuss this whole thing like reasonable adults? WALKER kicks a bin. It launches into the air and stays there, unencumbered by gravity. Walker: You know, maybe the gallery was the wrong approach. Being surrounded by people who hate you? Pff, that's just your normal life. He pushes through a set of double doors. They sag and collapse like damp tissue paper. Walker: But I can put you in other places. Nicer places. As WALKER passes by a series of offices their computer monitors change to display a picture of SCP-8080. Walker: You give me what I want, and I can give you… anything, Eleanor. Any little dream your heart desires. The office furniture begins to float gently into the air. The glass window panes dissolve into puddles of goo. Walker: Maybe a birthday party that people actually come to. Or a world where you're a few pounds lighter. Ellory: Fuck you! WALKER turns his head from side to side, trying to pinpoint the origin of the voice. But it's coming from the dream, from everywhere and nowhere. Walker: You could do! We were getting awfully close under those stars before you spoiled things, weren't we? Wasn't there just the smallest spark between us in the Director's office? And gosh, even in the gallery you were going on and on about my dashingly good looks. Do you really like my hair that much? It's almost enough to make a dreamwalker blush. Ellory: Wait, is that why you called yourself Dean Walker? Oh god, that's terrible. ELLORY's laughter echoes throughout the building. WALKER's features contort in anger. He speaks through gritted teeth. Walker: It's the best deal you'll get this lifetime you know. There's nothing left for you out there, Eleanor. Did I not tell you? They'd already tortured you by the time they brought you to me. Cut all sorts of bits off. Boy, if you thought you were an unattractive lump before- WALKER kicks open the door to a bathroom. Walker: Really there's just a head and some stringy bits left. We were planning to play piñata with it after we're done. The laughter doesn't stop. WALKER furiously kicks the wall beside him. It dissolves into powder. Walker: You're making a mistake Eleanor. Biggest mistake of your life. Possibly the last one too. But there's still time to make a deal before I catch you. You can still join the winning side. WALKER comes to a fork with two doors. He steps towards one, pauses, and then moves to the other with a smile. Walker: Hey, if a dream isn't good enough for you maybe we can find something you'll like on the outside. He lunges through the door, thrusting his knife out, but no one appears to be there. He's entered another corridor lined with the doors of humanoid containment chambers. He begins to move along it slowly, his knife raised. Walker: You didn't believe that story about cutting you up, right? Of course not. You're way too smart to fall for one of my little jokes. Maybe we can- ELLORY steps out behind WALKER and swings a baseball bat into the back of his skull. Due to the height difference, part of the blow's energy is taken by Walker's upper back, but he still staggers forward with a bellow of agony. Ellory: Hey there prettyboy. Guess I'm not the only one who can feel pain, huh? ELLORY tries to step forward, raising the bat to strike again, but the angle of the corridor shifts into a slope and ELLORY is forced to step backwards again to maintain her balance. WALKER wheels round and the corridor returns to normal. Walker: Nothing wrong with a little pain now and again. Reminds you that you're alive. Of course what you'll be going through, Eleanor, is a lot more than a little pain. WALKER brandishes his knife. Walker: Nice bat, Eleanor. Doesn't really seem to fit the aesthetic of this place very well though. Where'd you get it? Ellory: I played a lot of baseball when I was a girl. I was pretty great at it, honestly. I used to dream about going pro until my mother stopped taking me to games anyway. Walker: Bet you're wishing mommy had taken you to a shooting range instead. WALKER attempts to swing towards ELLORY's chest with the knife. She brings the bat up to block the blade, but he swerves, leaving a shallow cut on her right arm instead. WALKER steps back, grinning. Walker: You know Eleanor, I don't like you very much. I'm sure you have that effect on a lot of people. WALKER makes a couple of quick feints, lunging forward and dancing back, watching how ELLORY moves to defend herself. Walker: I really do want to jam this knife through your throat very, very badly right now and put you out of my misery, but you know what I've decided I want even more? I want to give SCP-8080 to the Foundation. ELLORY steps into a swing, attempting to strike Walker's right knife-wielding arm. He evades and lands a slice on her left. Walker: So they can lock her up in a pokey, soulless little room where the nice folks from the Anomalous Asset Programme can poke her and prod her and teach her to get cheese out of a maze. WALKER makes another feint and ELLORY steps back. Walker: They can raise her to be a weapon or a tool or a battery. And she'll forget alllll about you. Won't even remember your name. WALKER makes another feint and ELLORY steps back again. She stumbles, but catches herself. WALKER grins, advancing. Walker: Or maybe they'll tell her bedtime stories about the nasty old witch who tried to kidnap her and who'll come back for her again if she doesn't eat her vegetables up. You can be her monster under the bed! WALKER lunges forward, swinging upwards. ELLORY manages to block the blade with the bat, stepping backwards again. Walker: And then, one day, she'll end up as loyal little Foundation utility. Just like me. Isn't that a happy thought? WALKER thrusts the blade forward wildly and ELLORY slams the bat down onto his right arm. He screams and drops the knife, but continues his attack, using his forward momentum to drive his left elbow into ELLORY's stomach. She's knocked backwards and falls to the floor. Walker: Fucking bitch! WALKER attempts to slam his foot down on ELLORY's stomach but she rolls to her left to dodge. He tries again but ELLORY brings the bat up into his crotch. It doesn't have much force behind it but WALKER staggers back with a pained yelp. ELLORY tries to stand up, using the bat for leverage, but the corridor tilts again, raising WALKER and lowering ELLORY who falls and drops the bat. It begins to slide away. WALKER steps forward and aims a kick at ELLORY's head, but the corridor's shift suddenly reverses, dropping WALKER's side and raising ELLORY's. Ellory: My dream, asshole! Both WALKER and ELLORY begins to slide down the ramp. The baseball bat rolls past ELLORY. She lunges out, but instead her hands grab onto the edge of one of the containment chamber doors. The knife rolls past Walker. He snatches it up. The floor returns to normal. WALKER starts to scramble to his feet. ELLORY uses the door to pull herself upright and begins franticly typing a code into its keypad. WALKER's knife slides in front of her throat. Walker: Now goodness me, just what on earth are you… WALKER looks at the door and begins to laugh. In the middle of the door is a sign that reads: SCP-8080. Walker: Oh. Oh, that is good. Oh Eleanor I could kiss you if you weren't so absolutely repulsive and disgusting. So that's why you were in this dump. You've been learning to manipulate your mind and you put all your naughty little memories of her here, didn't you? Sneaky sneaky. ELLORY visibly shakes, and when she speaks it comes out as a sob. Ellory: I just… wanted to be with her again. WALKER bites his lower lip with an expression of bliss. Walker: Oh I do love that sound. Ellory: Even if it's only my memories of her. I thought… I knew when I left the gallery that I was never getting out of here. That it was hopeless. Walker: Completely hopeless. Utterly devoid of anything even approaching the barest hint of hope. Ellory: It was true what you'd said. I was never going to be able to win. Walker: Not in a million, billion years my dear, wretched Eleanor. I'll give you points for trying though. I've never met anybody who's taken to dreams so fast. Let alone a nobody like you. Ellory: But I… I knew if I could just put it all in one place, how I got her out, where she is, who's taking care of her… then I could protect her. I could… go inside, and close the door in a way that made sure no one could ever open it again. And then I could spend whatever time I have left in those dreams… with her. ELLORY blinks rapidly as if fighting off tears. Ellory: Walker… you have to understand now, right? How much she means to me. I can't… I can't stand this anymore. Please, please could you just… let me go through? Just tell them I escaped. That you couldn't get to me in time. Please… let me keep her safe. Walker: Oh Eleanor, Eleanor, Eleanor. But of course! What can I say? I see it all now. What a complete rotter I've been. Your tragic tale has warmed my stony heart and I am filled with the milk of human kindness. How could I possibly say no to those big puppy dog eyes? He leans in until his lips are almost against her ear and speaks in a low whisper. Walker: Go on. Open your door, and I'll let you slip right through. ELLORY raises a trembling hand and presses a final key. There's a gentle hiss, and the door swings open. Beyond it, instead of a containment chamber, there's a dimly lit windowless room with a dusty red carpet. The figure of a small girl with long straight black hair is sitting in the middle of it, her back to the doorway. She's moving a small toy train back and forth. Walker: Thank you, Eleanor. A complete and utter failure to the last. A total thicky in every sense of the word. WALKER throws ELLORY carelessly aside where she lands on the floor in a crumpled heap. Ellory: But… but- WALKER mimics her shrilly. Walker: But but but! Look, I would love to sit here and savour every one of those gloriously pathetic whimpers, but I'm afraid I have a renegade SCP's location to record so that a lot of big scary people with big scary guns can track her down. He grins. Walker: And put big scary holes into everyone who's been protecting her. You really are a hopeless idiot Eleanor. Now, don't go away. Because once the Foundation has the information they need I think that they're going to be so happy with me that they're really not going to bother looking too closely at how I spend the rest of my time in here. And I still have such wonderful nightmares to show you. WALKER cracks his knuckles one at a time. Walker: I must dash, but just before I go I want you to know that when they do recapture SCP-8080, I'm going to make sure she hears that it was you who gave her up. Flipped on her at the first opportunity. Living it up on some far away island with the money you made trading her back to the Foundation. And my goodness, I've just had another thought. I'm sure she'll have met simply oodles of treacherous Foundation types on her little flight to freedom with you. People who need identifying. Why, I might even be kind enough to offer my services to pick through her brain for free. Toodaloo, Eleanor. Don't be too upset. This was always how it was going to end. You were just stupid enough to draw it out. WALKER waves mockingly and steps through the doorway. The old wooden floorboards creak beneath his feet. The figure of the girl freezes. Walker: Now little memory, howsabout you tell me just where we are? The figure's head rotates 180 degrees and a porcelain face smiles back at him. Ugly brown-red stains bleed from its eye sockets. WALKER leaps back with a yell. Walker: Oh fuck. Oh god. Oh Jesus fucking Christ. He clasps his chest, taking deep breaths, and then scowls. Walker: … Oh fucking hell. He turns around. Behind him, the door has closed. From this side it resembles ordinary wood with ancient peeling red paint. He twists the handle but it doesn't open. Walker: Fuck me. That vicious, conniving piece of shit. When I catch up to her again I'm going to cut her into tiny living pieces and then set them all on fire. Fuck. FUCK! The doll lets out a haunting giggle. Doll: Daddy! You wanna pway wiv me? Walker: And you can fuck off too. WALKER waves a hand dismissively at it but nothing happens. Six mechanical, spider-like legs tear their way out of the doll's torso and raise it slowly from the ground. It continues to giggle. Walker: Control, stop the sequence. It was a trick. The bitch looped me back into the doll house. The lower half of the doll's face cracks in two, revealing circles of rusty metal saw-blade teeth. The marble eyes in its sockets pop out onto the carpet and tiny maggots begin to spill out. Walker: Control, stop the sodding sequence. With the sound of a revving chainsaw, the doll creature's teeth begin to rotate. It crawls slowly forward, the eerie giggling getting louder and louder. Walker: Control? Control!? Do you read me? CONTROL!! Fucking hell- WALKER turns and attempts to punch the door. It doesn't break. He tries again, and again. The wood remains unblemished, but the knuckles on Walker's hand have become split and bloodied. The doll continues to move forward, its body twisting unnaturally on its spikey, uneven legs. WALKER looks from his bloody knuckles to the doll. His eyes are wide. Walker: CONTROL! CONTROL FOR GOD'S SAKE TURN OFF THE FUCKING PAIN REPLICATORS!! Doll: Hey daddy, you got shome mighty pwetty skin. Can I have it, pweeeeeeeease? Addendum Doctor OLIVIA CARRIGAN is on a yacht. It's one of the large, deluxe models with three generously sized stories rising above the deck, but it looks long, long past its prime. Rust has crept unchecked across the bone-white exterior, leaving it pockmarked and disfigured. Dirt and grime mar the already chipped and cracking paintwork. Most of the windows and portholes have shattered, revealing shallow glimpses of a dark, decaying interior. CARRIGAN is sitting on a white metal sunlounger at the very front of the bow, fully dressed. It is nighttime, and above her is a vast ocean of brilliant stars that gleam like polished gemstones. Far too many stars to be real. There's an ocean below as well. The water around the yacht is a deep, smooth, oily black that seems to stretch out forever and ever in every direction. The liquid undulates softly in the still air, making the stars reflected in its surface waltz gently back and forth like slow, flickering candles. Around the rim of the horizon giant blue-white icebergs jut out of the inky blackness like a vast circle of misshapen teeth. CARRIGAN shivers, and tries to pull her jacket tighter around herself. The world is deathly quiet. The only sounds are the light lapping of water against the hull and the distant creak of metal as the boat rocks placidly from side to side. The yacht appears to be completely deserted, apart from CARRIGAN and her guest. Lying beside her on a second sunlounger is ELEANOR ELLORY. She's wearing a large pair of sunglasses, baggy shorts, and a Hawaiian shirt covered in brightly coloured flowers. Slowly she removes her sunglasses, stretches her arms above her with a contented sigh, and then folds them behind her head. Ellory: Damn. Still pretty. CARRIGAN stares straight ahead. She says nothing. Ellory: Not a bad night for it, huh? CARRIGAN continues to stare directly forward, not turning her head. Ellory: The trick is zero light pollution. And a good imagination. CARRIGAN still doesn't look at her. Carrigan: You can't be here. Ellory: Well, I couldn't just stay in my head forever. Don't get me wrong, it's a lot nicer than I expected, but it can get a little samey. You get tired of your own company after a while. Carrigan: I mean… you can't be here. The system shouldn't be active. Ellory: Ah, well, you'd know best. I guess I can't be here then. So I suppose I must just be a phantom of your guilt-ridden subconscious. Did you know, Doctor, that many psychiatrists believe that dreaming about a small woman on a yacht who calls you a total asshole is a sure sign of problems in the workplace? CARRIGAN's lip trembles. ELLORY regards her in silence for a while. Ellory: Did they ever get prettyboy out of his hole? Carrigan: … Not yet. Ellory: I imagine they're having trouble finding an exit large enough to squeeze that massive brain of his through. ELLORY takes a sip from a drink that's now appeared in her hand. It's a mug of cocoa. It has an umbrella in it. And a sparkler. Ellory: I'd say "I can't believe he fell for that" but you know what, I absolutely can. I've met egotistical shitweasels like him before. Deep down they really do believe that you're just a weak, frightened, gullible little girl who'll break down sobbing and do whatever they want if they push you around hard enough. So if you play along, they're much too arrogant to question it. ELLORY watches the sparkler until it burns out. CARRIGAN watches too. She doesn't speak. Ellory: I meant to ask - none of my business of course - but that whole thing with the doll room, was that like a lost connection, or…? CARRIGAN remains silent. Ellory: Right. This whole thing is probably going to be recorded, huh? Never mind. Carrigan: What is it you want, Eleanor? Ellory: Well Doctor, you asked me to make myself a warm drink and I promised you a rain check. So here we are. She licks a chocolate moustache off her upper lip. Ellory: Besides, given our last session got cut a little short, I thought you might be interested to hear how things were going with me. ELLORY takes a long, slow sip of her cocoa. CARRIGAN hesitates. Carrigan: … And how are things going with you, Eleanor? Ellory: You know, honestly? Not half bad. It turns out that having total, unlimited access to a lifetime of your dreams and memories can actually be a really rewarding experience. You should recommend it in therapy. ELLORY takes another sip. CARRIGAN does not reply. Ellory: I've got a lot of books to re-read in there. And music to re-listen to. And TV shows to re-watch. A lot of those are pretty awful, to be honest, but I can't blame anyone else for that. ELLORY finishes her drink. The empty mug ceases to exist. Ellory: I'm still learning about all the things I can do in dreams. Gravity was pretty easy, once I'd gotten the hang of it. Time is a lot more tricky, but I'm definitely getting better. I can make a baseball game last a whole day, or spend a week living in the sunshine of a single afternoon. Making things is the most fun though. It's a bit like drawing, really. Only apparently I'm a lot better at it. Carrigan: I'm… glad that you're happy. ELLORY narrows her eyes. Ellory: Just to be clear here Doctor, I'm not telling you any of this to soothe your conscience. Living in a dream world isn't the worst fate I could have imagined, but it's still not something I got to choose. I don't forgive you or the Foundation for anything you've done to me. CARRIGAN looks down. Carrigan: Eleanor… you stole SCP-8080. Ellory: You can't steal a person. They don't belong to anyone. But you can make sure they don't have to live in a cage. Carrigan: It's- CARRIGAN pauses and bites her lower lip. Her breath comes out in small clouds of white mist. Carrigan: … She's dangerous, Eleanor. Ellory: A lot of things can be dangerous. A lot of people, too. Switch on the news sometime. Carrigan: You know that's not the same thing. She has… unique characteristics. She was in containment for a reason. Ellory: And what exactly is it that you think Chloe's going to do, Doctor? CARRIGAN shifts uncomfortably and glances to the side. Pale goosebumps have risen across her flesh. Carrigan: You never actually told me what it- what her anomalous properties were. ELLORY stares at her. Ellory: Didn't the Foundation tell you? CARRIGAN looks slightly abashed. Carrigan: It… wasn't considered essential information for the mission. ELLORY starts to laugh. The noise echoes back and forth across the endless expanse of water, sounding cold and strange. Ellory: That place… She straightens up and pulls herself off the sunlounger, giving CARRIGAN a smile. Ellory: Well, this has been fun and all, but I guess it's about time I hit the road. Can't sit around here all night yapping. You've got to get your rest, Doctor. Big day tomorrow I imagine. A bright blue door waiting in the middle of the bow deck. It's hanging slightly ajar and a crack of brilliant white light is spilling through. ELLORY begins to walk towards it. Ellory: Don't worry, by the way. I won't be making contact again. I have much better things to do with my life these days. Carrigan: Wait! ELLORY stops with her hand on the door handle. She waits. Ellory: Yeah? Carrigan: Eleanor… Why did you come here? What do you want me to do? ELLORY looks back at her as she opens the door. The light obscures her expression. Ellory: Whatever your conscience will allow, Doctor. I suppose that's all any of us can do. She steps forward into brightness. Ellory: Sleep tight, Olivia. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8080" by Uncannyon, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8080. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Attempt_Friendship.jpg Name: "abstract-1668595" Author: Creativetc (aka Teresa) License: CC0 Public Domain Source Link: Pixabay Pre-2019 Additional Notes: Image was cropped prior to upload. Filename: Blacked_Out.png Name: "Blacked_Out" Author: Uncannyon License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Additional Notes: This is a pure black rectangle I made in MS Paint Filename: Attempt_Fantasy.jpg Name: "abstract-1668596" Author: Creativetc (aka Teresa) License: CC0 Public Domain Source Link: Pixabay Pre-2019 Additional Notes: Image has been cropped on this page by the wide-image-sizer component. Filename: Attempt_Fear.jpg Name: "fractal-art-403462" Author: Ocdesignzz (aka Amy) License: CC0 Public Domain Source Link: Pixabay Pre-2019 Additional Notes: Image has been cropped on this page by the wide-image-sizer component. Filename: Attempt_Reward.jpg Name: "abstract-1668590" Author: Creativetc (aka Teresa) License: CC0 Public Domain Source Link: Pixabay Pre-2019 Additional Notes: Image has been cropped on this page by the wide-image-sizer component. Filename: Attempt_Love.jpg Name: "fractal-441251" Author: Ocdesignzz (aka Amy) License: CC0 Public Domain Source Link: Pixabay Pre-2019 Additional Notes: Image has been cropped on this page by the wide-image-sizer component. Filename: Attempt_d925c51b.jpg Name: "fractal-441254" Author: Ocdesignzz (aka Amy) License: CC0 Public Domain Source Link: Pixabay Pre-2019 Additional Notes: Image has been cropped on this page by the wide-image-sizer component. Filename: Attempt_Undefined.jpg Name: "fractal-441254" Author: ArtTower (aka Brigitte Werner) License: CC0 Public Domain Source Link: Pixabay Pre-2019 Additional Notes: Image has been cropped on this page by the wide-image-sizer component. |
SCP-8081 | safe | Item#: 8081 Level1 Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo Assigned Site Site Director Research Head Assigned Task Force Observational Site-89 Roland Matheson Thomas Lawley STF G-3 "Border Patrol" Town of Coatesville, Georgia. Special Containment Procedures: A secure perimeter is to be maintained around the town of Coatesville. All roads leading to the anomaly have been purchased by the Foundation and are marked as private property with security checkpoints situated at the North and South entrances to the town. These checkpoints are to be manned by members of Stationary Task Force Gamma-3 "Border Patrol" dressed in 80's era police attire and are to divert any civilian vehicles that attempt access to the area. Observational Site-89 is to be established 500m West of SCP-8081 and staffed with round-the-clock personnel consisting of no less than twelve active staff members at a time including security personnel. Entry into the anomaly is to be authorised solely for research and welfare purposes, and personnel are not to introduce elements not native to the 1980's unless permitted to do so. Resources, including food, power, leisure and other necessary items, are to be supplied monthly by D-Class personnel with non-violent criminal histories and are to be closely monitored by security. SCP-8081-1 are to remain oblivious to the existence of the outside world and are to be handled with politely and accordingly so as not arouse suspicion towards Foundation research teams. Interaction with residents should be met with appropriate 80's fashion and unauthorised introduction of modern era elements will be met with immediate disciplinary action. Should SCP-8081-1 attempt to leave the confines of the perimeter, they are to be intercepted, interrogated, and supplied with pre-prepared false memories at Observational Site-89. Coatesville Residential Area (200█). Description: SCP-8081 is a memetic influence located in the town of Coatesville, ████████ County, Georgia. Although no record of this town exists in historical records, it has been confirmed by Foundation researchers to have been established since the 1980's. The town's architecture is also identical to that of a typical 80's era society with corresponding technology, media and fashion. SCP-8081 is currently secluded to Coatesville. Whilst the true extent of the anomaly has yet to be properly determined, its most obvious trait causes residents to believe that the current decade is the 1980's. On the eve of the alleged 1990, affected individuals will believe that the previous ten years occurred within the 1970's and think that the new year is 1980, thus re-starting the cycle1. Since its initial discovery in 20██, SCP-8081 has yet to show signs of transferring to outside parties. The populace of Coatesville, designated SCP-8081-1, are non-anomalous humans and are considered normal, its current total estimated to be around 1100. Instances of SCP-8081-1 have adopted the traits of people living in the 1980's including fashion, pop culture, and slang. SCP-8081-1's behaviour is no different to that of regular humans, and individuals go about their daily lives in Coatesville very rarely ever intending to leave the town. Introduction of modern-day stimuli2 to SCP-8081-1 have shown signs of confusion as well as an inability to properly comprehend what they're perceiving. Most individuals result getting migraines/headaches that last for as little as 3 hours to as long as a full day. Any deviation from this behaviour is to be investigated. Addendum 8081.1: Discovery Road leading to SCP-8081 SCP-8081 was first discovered by an Atlanta news station who received multiple claims from viewers about a 1980's-themes town within the county of ████████. After a news reporter successfully traced their way to the location of this alleged town, it was pitched as a story for broadcasting. Following further investigation, the town of Coatesville was not found on any map and not designated as a real town in the state of Georgia, attracting the attention of the Foundation. Upon discovery of anomalous properties, a Foundation cover story discredited the reporter's claims and all necessary parties were amnesticized. Addendum 8081.2: Interview In order gain a better understanding of SCP-8081, the history of the town and its residents, Foundation personnel, dressed in an according fashion to the 80's era, posed as members of a historical records organisation and interviewed several residents. Whilst most interviews provided no reports of abnormal events, a select few provided potential leads into the town's history of anomalous activity. [VIEW INTERVIEW 8081-23] [CLOSE] Interview 8081-23 Date: 04/29/██ Interviewer: Sen. Researcher Thomas Lawley Interviewed: SCP-8081-1-(Abigail Daniels) Subject: History of Coatesville, Georgia [BEGIN LOG] Researcher Lawley: So, have long have you lived in this town, Abigail? Abigail Daniels: About 32 years now. Lived here all my life. Lawley: Have you ever left the town for any reason? A.D: Never really had any reason to. I mean all my friends and family are here and this place has everything you need. The only time anyone really leaves is for holidays and job opportunities, but those rarely ever come around. Lawley: What about your childhood? What was that like? A.D: May I ask why you need to know that? Lawley: We simply want to understand the history of the town for a study we are procuring; the history of the town and its residents. A.D: Well, can my identity remain confidential? Lawley: Of course. A.D: Well, it was normal, really, like any other. Two parents, safe neighbourhood, everyone knew everyone. Lawley: And there was nothing out of ordinary that has happened? No unexplained occurrences or anything? A.D: No, but there was one thing. Lawley: Go on. A.D: A kid. I don't remember the story very well, but supposedly, there was a boy who went missing. They called it the Disappearance in '67. No one really remembers his name, but when an investigation was launched, it was believed he just ran away because there was no trace of him in any of the households. Even checked the nearby forests and nothing. Lawley: Did they ever find the boy? A.D: No. Lawley: And this was around 1█ years ago? A.D: Sounds about right, yeah. Lawley: May I ask what year it is, Abigail? A.D: You don't know? Been out of the loop for a few years, sir? Lawley: Just for the record, please, Miss Daniels. A.D: It's 198█, of course. Lawley: Thank you. And how many times has it been 198█? A.D: What do you mean by that? Lawley: Are you aware that everyone believes it is the 1980's for every passing decade here? A.D: No. Last decade was the 1970's. Lawley: Miss Daniels, the current year is 20██. A.D: Okay, now you're talking nonsense. It's 198█ I know it is. Ask anyone in this town, they'll vouch for me. Lawley: I'm sure they will. And they're just as much a victim as you. [END LOG] For more information, access Initial Interview Analysis-8081. Addendum 8081.3: Historical Overview Coatesville Town Hall Following initial statements gathered from local residents, Research Team BP-1 Arnold were assigned with researching Coatesville's origins and any potential links between aforementioned people and events. SCP-8081 HISTORICAL OVERVIEW Date: 05/13/██ Author: Researcher Brenda Harrigan We began our investigation within the parameters of the town hall. If there was anyplace that would hold any historical value on the town of Coatesville, it would be there. At first, we had trouble trying to get past the mayor who was understandably opposed to our intrusion. Eventually, we successfully convinced him to let us carry out our research. Upon analysing the town's records, we found nothing noteworthy about its origins. There were records of several townspeople who apparently fought in the second world war, none of whom survived. We were unable to get their names and the deeper we tried to dig into their identities and potential relatives came up inconclusive. I then decided to turn our attention to the local graveyard. Naturally, the majority of residents died before 1980, likely confirming Coatesville establishment prior to anomalous affect. However, several researchers theorised that those who SCP-8081-1 believed to have died during the war could have actually passed ██ years prior. Obviously, we cannot order the excavation and study of the bodies to prove their theory so we continued to analyse the population of the deceased throughout the alleged 1980's. Observations of the condition of the tombstones concluded that the last resident was buried between 1995-1997, yet no record of death date is inscribed on it. Our last location of interest was the public library. Initial analysis of SCP-8081 resulted in pop culture and media spanning as far back as 1920's era to as late as 1989, resulting in the supposed qualities corroborating to the library. First, we looked into books on recent history, all covering basic American culture and events spanning as far back to the establishment of the English colonies in 1620 to the Chernobyl disaster in 1986. Despite the acquired textbooks originally being written in [REDACTED], it has had no affect on SCP-8081-1. One member of our team even analysed a Geography textbook in an attempt to find any records of Coatesville on any maps to no avail. Overall, it is open to suggestion that Coatesville was absent of anomalous activity prior to 1980 and had establishments during the early '20s, but it seems local history is either of no interest to residents, or, to maintain SCP-8081-1's illusion of reality, it has been erased. DATE: 05/14/██ FROM: Researcher Brenda Harrigan TO: Sen. Researcher Thomas Lawley SUBJECT: Historical Overview of SCP-8081 Thomas, I have something else I need to inform you of, and I prefer this be left out of my report. During our investigation we encountered an individual who was noticeably suspicious, resulting in an attempt to establish contact. Naturally, he fled and Smith advised it be better not to attract a lot of attention to ourselves. When we were ready to return to Site-89 we encountered him again, and this time he confronted us. Whilst at first he seemed hostile, he later asked if we were "loopy". After brief deliberation we learned that he wasn't affected by SCP-8081 and had been following our investigation for quite a while now. I tried to get more information from him, but he stated that he didn't want us to screw anything up; that the people here didn't need outside interference and that there is nothing dangerous about what is happening to them. Attempts to reassure him failed and he fled. I am writing to you to further advise on how we should proceed. DATE: 05/15/██ FROM: Sen. Researcher Thomas Lawley TO: Researcher Brenda Harrigan SUBJECT: RE: Historical Overview of SCP-8081 If there is an individual unaffected by SCP-8081's influence then they may have taken residence in the town of Coatesville before anomalous activity first surfaced. If that is the case, they could be key to gaining a further understanding of the origins of this anomaly. Should you, or anyone else in your team sight them during your next research expedition, contact Site-89 and a detachment of STF Gamma-3 to apprehend him. Addendum 8081.4: Interrogation On May 23rd 20██, STF Gamma-3 sighted and apprehended PoI-8081/13 and was brought to Site-89 for interrogation. PoI-8081/1 Interrogation Log: [CENSORED VERSION] Date: 05/23/██ Interrogator: Sen. Researcher Thomas Lawley Interrogated: PoI-8081/1 Subject: Residency in SCP-8081 [BEGIN LOG] Researcher Lawley: So, let's start with your name, shall we? PoI-8081/1: Leave me alone, I haven't done anything wrong. This is unlawful arrest. Lawley: Please, sir, we just want to ask you a couple of questions about Coatesville. PoI: [EXPLETIVE] you. You're not here for journalism or whatever the [EXPLETIVE] you call it. You're here to control us. I won't object to you evaluating us, but I will object to you interfering in our lives. These people have done nothing wrong, and they shouldn't be your own personal lab rats. Lawley: I can assure you that that is not what we're here to do. We're here solely for research. PoI: And why should I believe you? Lawley: You can't. PoI is hesitant for a few moments. PoI: Fine. My name's Timothy Osborne. Lawley: Thank you, and how long have you lived in Coatesville, Mr. Osborne? Osborne: Almost ██ years now. I came back here with my father in '9█ and the townspeople were already "loopy". Lawley: Wait, came back? Can you elaborate on that? Osborne: I was born here in the 60's, but later moved after my parents split up. I barely knew my mother and never thought much about her. My father and I returned following her death. I had very little memory of Coatesville, due to me leaving at such a young age, but from what I could remember almost nothing had changed about the town. Lawley: What exactly do you remember about this place? Osborne: Not much. Just the same housing estate, the same parks and gardens, even the people hadn't changed all that much. When my dad and I returned, he caught up with an old friend, I forgot her name, she was about 60 years old and she acted like she saw him just last week. Lawley: And this was the first you began to notice that people were— Osborne: —loopy? Lawley: (Groans) Yes, "loopy". But we prefer not to call it that. Osborne: Why not? Lawley: Because it sounds ridiculous. Osborne: Well, I've been here longer than the rest of you, so I'll call it whatever the [EXPLETIVE] I want. Lawley: Let's stay on topic, please. Osborne: Fine. Yes, that was when I first noticed it. My father introduced me to his friend and she was surprised to see how much I had grown, saying how last she saw me was when I was just a young boy. I didn't even remember her but she kept talking like it hadn't been too long since we last met, but I didn't pay that much attention to it. Lawley: And further symptoms of this became more apparent? Osborne: Yeah, wasn't freaky or anything, but it was weird. They all shared the same likeness to stuff from the '80s. I just thought they hadn't yet moved on, but soon they had no concept of any time after they year 1989. Anyway, we went back to my childhood home and settled in. The loss of my mother was not that much of an impact on my life, but I at least expected it to effect my dad, yet nothing. It was as if he forgot about her. Lawley: Was there a service her memorial? Osborne: No, it supposedly happened before we arrived in Coatesville. Lawley: Where is your father now, Mr. Osborne? Osborne: He died in (hesitates) 1998, I think. It's hard to keep track of the present when you live in a place like this. What is going on in this town? Do you guys know? Lawley: I'm afraid I'm not cleared to tell you that. Osborne: [EXPLETIVE]! Look, I've shared enough about this topic to you, it's time you gave me some answers! Lawley: Even if I wanted to I'm not authorised to divulge any information relevant to our investigation to you, Mr. Osborne. Now can we please— Osborne: [EXPLETIVE] this! If I'm not allowed answers, then this interrogation is over! (Sounds of a chair scraping across the floor) PoI-8081/1 attempts to leave the interrogation room. Lawley: (To the guard) Restrain him. (Sounds of a struggle) A security guard restrains PoI-8081/1 and forces him back into his chair. Lawley: Listen to me, if you co-operate with us, I'm sure I can get the authorisation to clear you for a proper debriefing. But if you continue to resist or further impede our investigation, then I'm afraid you'll have to be dealt with accordingly. Osborne: What's that supposed to mean? Lawley: Do you want to find out? PoI is hesitant for a few moments. Osborne: (Murmurs) No. (Room is silent for 12 seconds) Lawley: How far has the toll of each reset impacted the residents of Coatesville? Osborne: How should I know? I've only been here long enough to see them relive the 80's [REDACTED] time[s]. When everything started from scratch, I thought I would probably start doing the same thing. But… Lawley: Nothing. Osborne: Yeah, nothing. Maybe it was because I wasn't living in Coatesville when this whole thing started and I honestly do not care. I mean, would it really be that much of an impact on my life if it started happening to me? Lawley: It wouldn't be the worst thing, in my opinion. Osborne: Are we done here? Lawley: Just one more question, Mr. Osborne. Osborne: (Sighs) Of course. Lawley: Have there been any strange deviations in behaviour from the locals? Any notable events or things that don't correspond with what you've currently witnessed? Osborne: Only one thing, but it's very minor and it's never really bothered me before. Lawley: Anything is still something, Mr. Osborne. No matter how small. Osborne: My father's old friend - the 60-year-old I mentioned - when she met me she said something like: "Been a few months since I last saw you", or something like that. According to my dad, we left Coatesville in the late '60s and I had no memory of this woman whatsoever. Lawley: I'm sorry, what's your point? Osborne: Well, if last she saw me was when I was just a kid, and to her it was only a few months since I was last in Coatesville, then how did the affect keep looping before the introduction of the 80's? [END LOG] Footnotes 1. Whether this influence has been present in Coatesville since 1990 or longer is unknown 2. e.g. Technology, Media, Historical events, etc. 3. Temporary designation given to unidentified resident ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8081" by ClaudeHinton, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8081. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Name: Downtown Young Harris, Georgia, and Young Harris College Author: Harrison Keely License: CC BY 4.0 Source Link: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/b1/Downtown_Young_Harris%2C_Georgia%2C_and_Young_Harris_College.jpg Name: Minneapolis Residential Street (20093245783) Author: City of Minneapolis Archives License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/e3/Minneapolis_Residential_Street_%2820093245783%29.jpg Name: MS14 West - Forest Route West of Louisville (40996565195) Author: formulanone License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/19/MS14_West_-_Forest_Route_West_of_Louisville_%2840996565195%29.jpg Name: Smithtown New York Town Hall Author: Kenneth C. Zirkel License: CC BY-SA 4.0 Source Link: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a4/Smithtown_New_York_Town_Hall.jpg |
SCP-8082 | esoteric-class | "Who lit the fuse that tore the Foundation's world apart?" close Info X SCP-8082: "The Wild Hunt" Written by Nonaggress Content Warning: A few depictions of verbal emotional abuse, gaslighting, allusions to child abuse, disturbing imagery. by Nonaggress Item#: 8082 Level5 Secondary Class: Loptr Disruption Class: amida Risk Class: critical link to memo Special Containment Procedures: The Foundation is incapable of containing SCP-8082, as a general mutiny of Site-46 staff has led to the fall of the installation and regional security assets to a United States military incursion. Tensions between the Foundation and the United States government are not conducive to containment operations in civilian areas. Efforts are currently focused on maintaining Foundation control over critical installations, and preparing for a potential definition of Tiamat-class Special Containment Procedures targeting the United States of America. Under no circumstances should personnel approach or interact with SCP-8082. Statistical analysis indicates a mean time of eight minutes to breaching of one of the conditions for a nomenclature mutation event in SCP-8082's presence. These conditions include, and are not limited to, referring to SCP-8082 with a name, responding to a name SCP-8082 bestows on you, lying to SCP-8082, denying SCP-8082 food when admitting SCP-8082 to an abode. It is likely that SCP-8082's hazardous effects are not under SCP-8082's conscious control. Description: SCP-8082 is the designation for an nomenclative-kinetic eigenweapon. The exact capabilities of this eigenweapon, as well as its status and whether it is at large or in American custody is not yet known. Discovery: SCP-8082 was developed by Site-46 in an effort to combat an anomaly that was causing the widespread disappearances of children throughout the continental United States (to date, approximately two hundred thousand (200,000) children have become casualties). Though such a weapons project had been suggested by various Foundation staff, the O5 council chose not to pursue it due to concerns that the process to create the weapon was insufficiently understood. Site-46 began its own initiative in secret, labeled Project Erlkönig. Survivor testimony from the fall of Site-46 indicates that the procedure to create SCP-8082 took place on 9/27/2024 at 12 AM, which correlates with the disappearance of all but two progeny of Foundation staff, inflicting a critical blow to organizational morale, and sparking widespread defections to US government allegedly in an attempt to seek retribution against the Foundation as a whole for being complicit in Site-46's actions. Recovered Project Erlkönig Documentation Access granted Nomenclature note: On Dr. Valera's instructions, all references to D-8185 are to exclusively use its D-class designation instead of its name, including logs predating its D-class processing. All references to D-8185's personal life have been abstracted to prevent development of emotional attachment to D-8185. Video log Location: Site-46, Dr. Anthony Valera's office (L5) Participants: Dr. Anthony Valera, D-8185 Dr. Valera: "We've been dining for fifteen minutes, and you haven't said more than pleasantries and chopped syllables. We have the finest chefs in or out of this world serving us the epitome of haute-cuisine, and wine aged for a historical epoch. Where is your appetite?" D-8185: <Forced chuckle> "[REDACTED]…I…sorry, it's just, I don't think we've actually eaten dinner together since I was nine. Cat's got my tongue." Dr. Valera: "Come now, [REDACTED], you aren't like those other neurotics in your generational cohort. You've grown strong. Raw. A survivor. Surely, a bit of social performance isn't beyond you?" D-8185: "Yes, uh…excuse me. Uh…how is your work going?" Dr. Valera: "You know I can't talk about that." <reflexively brushes mouth with his hand> D-8185: "Yes, sir." Dr. Valera: "No, but, [REDACTED], you know I can't talk about that." D-8185: "Yes, I know." Dr. Valera: "Why did you ask, then?" D-8185: "Yes, sorry." Dr. Valera: "That's not an answer to my question. [REDACTED]. Stop apologizing, you simpering child-" <Phone buzzes, Dr. Valera looks at phone, scowls> Dr. Valera: "There you go, pulling me into another tangent, when we have more pressing business to discuss. Have you given my proposal any thought? America's battering ram is at the gates. Children are disappearing every day…" D-8185: <Seems to absent-mindedly mash vegetables with its fork> "Y…yeah…" Dr. Valera: "Speak up, [REDACTED], you've only been putting this off for three weeks. Do you care to know how many children were taken in that month you spent procrastinating?" D-8185: "I want to help the Foundation, but I don't want to [REDACTED reference to E-8321], either." Dr. Valera: "AI consensus estimate is eleven thousand three hundred and twenty one, but I argue that's wildly conservative. I see, you want to help the Foundation, but not take any risks." D-8185: "I want to take risks, [REDACTED]!" Dr. Valera: "Are you aware that the paperwork to transfer [E-8321] is already processing? I can't keep [them] onsite safely if we don't improve the Foundation's security situation on the East Coast." D-8185: "I know-" Dr. Valera: "Destiny is calling you in our hour of need, but you see fit to let Destiny wait while you get over your selfish millennial wallowing. Does your anti-depressant prescription need upped? Do you need to see your therapist more to complain about how your father was mean to you? Please, I'm all ears." <Dr. Valera impatiently looks at watch> Dr. Valera: "We're done here. I'll have the leftovers taken to your chambers. Good night." <Notices D-8185 hasn't left the office yet> "Yes? Is there something else?" D-8185: "What time is my…window to see [E-8321]?" Dr. Valera: "[Their] section of the site is on lockdown. We can't afford the security arrangements right now. You can have a phone call." <Observes expression on D-8185's face> "Or nothing, if you believe in the privilege enough to starve for it. Do you?" D-8185: <Reflexively brushes mouth with its hand> "I think…[E-8321] would prefer to hear from me in general, sir. What time?" Dr. Valera: "It is inconsiderate of you to pin your weakness on [them]. But, as you wish." D-8185: "Thank you, sir. Uh…what time was that?" Dr. Valera: "I don't recall giving you a time. You'll just have to wait until we can free up the resources to accommodate you. In the meantime, think about your role at the Foundation. Think hard, lad." D-8185: "Thank you, sir." <Turns to leave room> <Phone buzzes again. Out of eyeshot of D-8185, Dr Valera briefly glances at the screen, and coughs> Dr. Valera: "Good night…I [REDACTED]" <D-8185 freezes in mid-step. Body language and complexion indicative of dopamine spike> D-8185: "I…I…you too, [REDACTED]." Audio log: Phone call between D-8185 and E-8321 on monitored Foundation line Date/Time: <E-8321's side of the call has considerable background noise, likely because E-8321 was obligated to take the call in the middle of Emergency Housing Unit 532, which accommodates upwards to three hundred and twenty one beds.> D-8185: "Can't you tell me how you really feel? I kept you waiting god knows how long, you didn't know we weren't gonna meet until five minutes ago…do you not care?" E-8321: <Pause> "I'm sure it was out of your hands." D-8185: "[E-8321], please, don't cold shoulder me. You don't know what this is like." E-8321: "What are you thinking about…the…'opportunity'? D-8185: <Sound of nervous swallow> "I'm thinking about taking [REDACTED]'s job offer." E-8321: <Pause; faint sound approximating either a twig being stepped on or a pen getting snapped in half> "I respect your freedom of conscience and whatever." D-8185: "They need me, [E-8321], I…" E-8321: "I don't feel like discussing this right now. Say, remind me, what is my least favorite animal?" D-8185: "I know, I know…chinchilla." E-8321: "I'm gonna go." D-8185: "Aren't you gonna tell me you l-" E-8321: "Goodnight, [D-8185]." Video transcription: Unauthorized phone call between D-8185 and E-8321. Audio feeds unavailable due to unresolved cyber-attack that occurred during the specific window of their conversation, cause undetermined. Additionally, both participants frequently covered their mouths, hindering efforts to discern content of speech from lip movements. Locations: D-8185: D-8185's containment chamber. E-8321: Dr. Valera's office (it is unknown how E-8321 gained access to Dr. Valera's quarters) Description: Conversation begins acrimoniously, with both participants seen in varying levels of distress. E-8321 is walking in a loop around the perimeter of the office, lunging at the desk from time to time when screaming at D-8185. D-8185 remains mostly static for much of the conversation, except when throwing objects and punch surfaces around the chamber. At one point, D-8185 and E-8321 seen to remove matching jewelry from the fourth proximal digit of each of their left hands and hurl them across their respective rooms. Forensic analysis of both subjects' visual indicators indicate highly elevated distress state consistent with trauma response and possible dissociation, though D-8185 shows the most external indicators of distress (e.g. touching its own hair and face, aforementioned striking of physical surfaces, crying), whereas E-8321 shows indications of alexithymia; such as lack of emotional responsiveness, save the occasional scream whenever D-8185's physical reactions cause a loud noise. Thirty minutes into the confrontation, both participants appear to cease communicating, although frames from footage indicate E-8321 is whispering to D-8185. Forensic analysis of neurochemical markers indicate that both participants were able to co-regulate during that window of time. Both participants retrieve their jewelry and replace them on their respective fingers. D-8185's digit is mutilated above the knuckle. E-8321's corresponding digit is tattooed black along a surface area roughly corresponding to the extent of D-8185's deformation. Conversation becomes copacetic. Both D-8185 and E-8321 express lower intensity emotional distress, until D-8185 says something that causes E-8321 to hyperventilate to laugh. E-8321 has stopped pacing and lies prone on her back on the desk, positioned so communication device is next to her head. D-8185 has relaxed in bunk with phone next to his head. After twenty minutes of banter, E-8321 says something that correlates with a sexual arousal response in D-8185. D-8185's reply has the same effect on E-8321. E-8321 starts to unbutton [their] shirt and D-8185 reaches for [its] pants in motions that have been confirmed to be non-anomalously synchronized. [EXPUNGED BY PERSONAL REQUEST OF PROJECT LEAD] Conversation terminates when Level 5 security personnel detect unauthorized communication, and extract E-8321 from office. Interview Log Participants: Dr. Anthony Valera, Miss Baba Yaga (pseudonym chosen by high ranking member of Foundation leadership-all further information classified on penalty of summary termination and/or nerve stapling) Background: Discussion of contents of video log of unauthorized phone conversation Dr. Anthony Valera: "How did that [E-8321] get into my office?" Miss Baba Yaga: <Smiles> "Yellow card." Dr. Valera: "Fine. How did [E-8321] get into my office?" Miss Yaga: "Indeed. How does a twenty-two year old manage to thwart a Foundation lockdown to break into a senior staff's office?" <Brief pause> Dr. Valera: "With all due respect, ma'am, why are you fucking with me?" Miss Yaga: <Smiles> "Yellow card." <A brief pause> Dr. Valera: "Alright, let me rephrase. Did you sabotage Site-46's security architecture to allow [E-8321] to break into my office?" Miss Yaga: "I didn't need sabotage to turn some of your staff against you. I simply let nature take its course." Dr. Valera: "But why?" Miss Yaga: "Because [D-8185] is almost there. He just needed a reminder of what [D-8185] stands to lose. [E-8321] has ardor, but [E-8321] didn't realize that just by letting [D-8185] hear [E-8321]'s voice again, imagining what [E-8321] had to do to make it happen, [E-8321] made up [D-8185]'s mind. A push." Dr. Valera: "What push? Why? I don't know if you saw the same footage I did, but it sounded like [E-8321] whipped the initiative out of [D-8185] entirely! How would that emotional roughness motivate [D-8185] to anything more than further incessant wallowing?" Miss Yaga: "You ought to know, Dr. Valera, and yet you're clueless. The ontico-ontological paradox in a nutshell. I always knew you were right man for this project." Dr. Valera: "And are you going to tell me who among my staff are so limp-wristed that they can be finessed by a [E-8321]?" <Miss Yaga chuckles as she rises from her seat. Dr. Valera, assuming she is concluding the interview, stands up and walks over to her and extends his hand to shake hers. Miss Yaga instead stares at him.> Miss Yaga: "Red Card." <Miss Yaga's left fist makes contact with Dr. Valera's temple in a swift hook movement. The blow causes Dr. Valera to immediately lose consciousness and collapse into a prone position at Miss Yaga's feet. Miss Yaga checks Dr. Valera's vitals, searches for broken bones, and performs rudimentary checks for concussions and other related head injuries. After signaling for medical staff to retrieve Dr. Valera for immediate eval and treatment, she wipes her hands on his shirt, and then leaves the room> Postscript: No disciplinary actions were filed against Miss Yaga. By Miss Yaga's own insistence, this log is to be kept on file. User annotation: "Pour encourager les autres" -BY Video log: "Therapy session UB" Location: Site-46, D-8185's containment chamber Participants: D-8185, Miss Baba Yaga Background: Under a second pseudonym, Miss Yaga is pursuing staged indoctrination using the conceit of routine therapy. At Miss Yaga's insistence, the pseudonym she specifically used with [D-8185] was scrubbed from all footage and replaced with variations on "Miss Baba Yaga" by an annotation AI. D-8185: "Let me guess, today you want to talk about me and [E-8321] compromising Foundation security for phone sex, and how me acting out is just me trying to lash out at [REDACTED]." Miss Yaga: <Discretely chuckles; stiffness of jaw indicates discomfort with phrasing> "I wouldn't…characterize an hour and a half emotional discussion with the…outcome…personally. But, uh, you know what? Fuck them." D-8185: "Excuse me?" <Head turns in several different directions, each identified as a current or previous location of a secreted recording device.> Miss Yaga: "That's right. Fuck them. So you broke a few rules to spend time with your [REDACTED]. You know how many onsite couples can't even plan a simple zoom date when they're abroad? You know how many times I have to tell a client to find ways of reminding their partner that they care? So when I see a young couple like you move mountains just to talk about your feelings, I'm not concerned. I'm inspired." D-8185: "…[E-8321] did all the work." Miss Yaga: "Don't sell yourself short, [D-8185]. You're both doing the best you can with the opportunities given you." <D-8185 reflexively touches his cheek. Miss Yaga's lips move, but microphones do not pick up anything.> D-8185: "Did you say something? Sounded like 'Didn't you'," Miss Yaga: "No, I didn't." D-8185: "Oh yes, you did. Stop lying." Miss Yaga: <Barely audible> "No I didn't." <Miss Yaga stares at D-8185 for a moment, eyes briefly unfocused. Her lips and jaw slacken as though she's lost in thought.> D-8185: "What do you mean by that? What the hell do you mean by that? Oh, are you trying to break my balls, huh? Well, what the fuck do you know about anything? You're just a fucking patsy so manifestly useless to anything or everyone that they send you in here to lure me in a false sense of security. You don't think I can read you like a fucking book? I've read you cover to cover from session three! 'Didn't you.' Don't bullshit me, you unsweetened honey-pot trollop…" <D-8185 eyes widen, indicating some sudden realization, jumps out of his seat in shock, and punches a wall.> Fuck!" <A long, pregnant pause. D-8185 is trembling. Miss Yaga's features have settled into a frozen expression superficially similar to a polite smile.> D-8185: "Look, Miss Yaga, I'm sorry-" Miss Yaga: "I think we're on first name terms, now, D-8185. Just…'Yaga' will suffice." D-8185: "I'm sorry, Yaga, I…" Miss Yaga: "No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have triggered you like that. I'm not sure what I sa-" D-8185: "I didn't want to hurt you, I just felt-" Miss Yaga: "I think it's best if we continue this conversation tomorrow. I…have to take a personal day." D-8185: "I'm sorry, Yaga." <Miss Yaga stands up and walks towards the door.> I'm sorry! Miss Yaga: "I know, [D-8185]" <Note: this is the first time Miss Yaga used D-8185's first name> <Miss Yaga leaves the room. D-8185 waits until the door closes behind her, and then covers his face with his hands. Breathing of D-8185 enters erratic state for approximately fifteen minutes.> Video log: "Therapy session UC" [CONTENTS REDACTED BY ORDER OF O5 COMMITTEE] Annotation: "He said 'yes'. In exchange, he wants to convey the news to his wife personally. I think we owe him that much. Don't you dare redact this." -Miss Baba Yaga Audio log: "Conversation between D-8185 and E-8321 shortly before Containment Breach 9/13/24" Background: Due to a miscommunication [still under investigation], Dr. Anthony Valera personally assumed leadership over an operation to assume custody of D-8185. He also fast-tracked D-8185's registration as D-Class as per standard Foundation procedure regarding test subjects in High Intensity Experimentation Environments. Guards with orders from Miss Baba Yaga had transferred D-8185 to a room allocated for D-8185 and E-8321's meeting, when Dr. Valera and a scratch formation of five MTF soldiers forcibly assumed custody of D-8185. D-8185 was then brought to Dr. Valera's office, which had been cauterized from the surveillance network shortly after E-8321's break-in. As a result, it is unclear what transpired into that room, although Dr. Valera alleges any physical injuries on D-8185's person were purely the result of the containment breach. Dr. Valera permitted D-8185 to make a single phone call to E-8321, who was rushed to a site checkpoint in order to take the call. Due to Dr. Valera's improvised precautions, only audio from E-8321's side of the conversation was able to be traced and logged. E-8321: "[D-8185], what's going on?" E-8321: "You said yes? Like…were you sober? Why…?" E-8321: "'Because your dad told you to? You're gonna possibly die without ever seeing me again, and the only explanation you can give me is your dad told you to?" E-8321: "You know what? I'm over it. If you're that cavalier about leaving me a widow, I'm good. E-8321: "Nah. Tell it to me in person, or don't say it at all." E-8321: "Whatever. Okay, bye. Wait, one more question. You planning on making this up to me somehow?" <There's a brief pause after D-8185 responds to E-8321's question. E-8321 laughs hysterically. This continues for a few minutes. Post-incident analysis of logs suggests E-8321's breathing only departed baseline parameters at this point in the conversation.> E-8321: "A what? You're about to go space monkey on me, and you think getting me a chinchilla will make it all better?" E-8321: "You got me fucked up." E-8321: "No, no, you got me fucked up." E-8321: "Yeah, I know you lose your shit when I say that. I lose my shit when my husband is going to die. Guess we're even." E-8321: "Tell me how you really feel." E-8321: "You got me fucked up. You deadass sold yourself to science and didn't even tell me." E-8321: "Yeah, I'll see you. Yeah, I'll fucking see you." <Phone call terminates> Video log: Debriefing after Containment Breach 9/13/2024 Participants: Miss Baba Yaga, MTF captain call-sign "Kingfish", Dr. Anthony Valera Miss Baba Yaga: "A containment breach without any casualties, a head researcher with a broken nose, and an MTF commander beaten half to death by said head researcher's security team. How did this happen?" Dr. Valera: "I've told you all a hundred times, that [E-8321] is a dangerous saboteur, and have been dismissed at every turn-" Miss Baba Yaga: "I-" Dr. Valera: "And I don't give a fuck about your insipid 'Cards', 'Miss Yaga', not when you are implicated in a Site-wide security breach by your wanton cavalierness, by your physically assaulting project staff, by the multiple breaches Ethics breaches you have personally authorized in the course of this project, so I will appreciate you shutting your mouth about improprieties before I hang you with the slack you've given me these past six months!" Miss Yaga: She is unfazed, and smiles "I'm just asking questions. Surely, your impunity can survive a bit of curiosity, can't it?" Dr. Valera: "Ask whatever questions you like. It won't matter in the end." Miss Yaga: "Kingfish, regale me." Kingfish: "At oh-two hundred hours, five members of my command were handed forged orders by Dr. Valera to intercept your security detail. After butchering our arrangements to ensure [D-8185] and [E-8321]-" Dr. Valera: "Point of order, it's not [D-8185], it's D-8185 now." Miss Yaga: "Noted, Anthony, but not humored." Kingfish: "This asshole physically drags [D-8185] into his office, doesn't even frisk the punk while he beats the crap out of his own [REDACTED]-" Dr. Valera: "-It is no son of mine, D-8185 is a mistake that this bitch-" <Points to Miss Baba Yaga> "-insisted was a Foundation priority for reasons she has yet to elaborate on!" Kingfish: "And then has to get pulled off of the kid by the MTF he hijacked, and only then does he allow the kid to make a phone-call out of some twisted sense of courtesy. But does he get a dedicated surveillance AI to monitor the call? No." Dr. Valera: "I don't need help to threaten a twenty-something punk into toeing the line!" Kingfish: "You need help when you're too fucking dumb to understand when two people are using a duress code." Dr. Valera: "Duress code, I don't understand-" Miss Yaga: "Chinchilla, you twitchy little man." Kingfish: "Why in God's name would a husband promise to buy his wife a Chinchilla to make up for never seeing her again? Does [D-8185] sound like the kind of person to fuck with his wife at a time like that? So, by the time [D-8185] gets frogmarched to D-Class, we're scrambling everyone to contain three different Keter breaches at three different parts of the site at the same time, and at the exact moment the sirens go off, [D-8185] plunges a letter opener he stole from Dr. Valera's office into the femoral artery of one of my fucking troops and guns it in the direction of the sirens. At the same time, [E-8321], wearing an MTF uniform provided to her by a contact who is now in custody, runs in his direction. They managed to get within a meter of each other before Foundation staff managed to restrain and gag them both before [D-8185] could leak sensitive intel about the Project, such as he knew." Dr. Valera: "Who gives a fuck about that? We got him, didn't we? And when I last checked, there weren't any actual breaches. They were all false alarms, set off by saboteurs in your team-" Kingfish: "Because of the containment breach scramble, the personnel on the scene weren't able to rush him to the infirmary in time, and the soldier bled out before we could get him fixed up." Miss Yaga: "In addition, you may have terminally compromised Project Erlkönig. I specifically said [D-8185] was to agree to participate of his own volition." Dr. Valera: "He signed the paperwork, didn't he? It's not my fault the little shit was too dumb to ask for his end upfront. It's yours for making him think the Foundation particularly cares about its pawns." Miss Yaga: "The nature of the…catalyst…is rather picky about niceties like this. I'm sure I can still make this work…it's just I'm unsure of what it considers 'damages'. Just know whatever happens next, it's on you." Dr. Valera: "I couldn't be less interested in what you think. My name is on this project, not yours. You are a fixer, a bag woman, and I have a paper trail implicating you in every shortcut you asked me to make. And even if that weren't the case, you're a dead woman walking!" Miss Yaga: <She grins, this time with teeth> "Good catch. I underestimated your ability to make friends, it seems." Dr. Valera: "It's easier to make friends when the turncoats are trying to leave a sinking ship." Miss Yaga: "You've overestimated your ability to make useful ones. Your grasp of the facts is incomplete. You see, we're all dead." Dr. Valera: "I beg your pardon?" Kingfish: "Bullshit." Miss Yaga: "We're all dead. In the process of our work, with all the sacrifices-personal and literal-the scads of innocent people sent to their deaths in painful ways, this latest imminent atrocity-we've racked up quite the rap sheet." Dr. Valera: "But those Ethics Committee wavers-" Miss Yaga: "Were forged." Dr. Valera: "But the O5s-" Miss Yaga: "Expressly voted against me continuing this project. Do the math. The Foundation has been getting a very warped account of events on the East Coast. I was able to explain away the irregularities as a result of rampant malware attacks from our angry counterparts at Langley, but recently they've begun to trace a few of those cyberattacks to IPs associated with me." Kingfish: "If what you're saying is true, it is my duty to place you both under immediate confinement as per Foundation regulation-" Miss Yaga: "You'll do no such thing, considering your subordinate is the one who set off the breach alarms." Kingfish: "What did you just say?" Miss Yaga: "[E-8321] didn't know it, but she was my mouse-trap. I had all of your squad's interactions with her recorded through my own private surveillance system, one you had no way of knowing about or sabotaging. If it's any consolation, I'm sure her mother would have followed through on all of the promises she made on her behalf. Or maybe you helped her because your conscience cried out against what Dr. Valera was doing. Or maybe you just really didn't like Dr. Valera. The distinctions won't matter to a Foundation courts martial." "Do the math. Do you think it's a coincidence I let a bleeding heart, traumatized war criminal be in charge of containing hundreds of achingly innocent civilians, all sullen looking reminders of the single greatest failure of your entire life? Where do you think your staff came from? Why do you think I encouraged your most compassionate tendencies, and let [E-8321] have such a loose leash? Now, thanks to that containment breach, all of your morally outraged bedfellows are implicated in treasonous endeavors against Foundation security for the many months that you let that girl manipulate you. You were a fiddle, and I watched someone play you." Dr. Valera: "You…you bitch." Miss Yaga: "Yellow card, Anthony." <Dr. Valera flinches, as Miss Yaga rises to her feet> Miss Yaga: "What you two do next is up to you. Dr. Valera, you can try to throw yourself on the mercy of the O5s for both the crimes you actually committed, and the crimes I committed under your name, and convince them that you were genuinely the biggest idiot in the history of the Foundation. Kingfish, you could follow your conscience, arrest us both, yada yada yada…and then promptly throw the rest of your beloved squadmates onto the sword the O5s make you fall on for this. " "Your only hope of a reprieve is that Project Erlkönig is a success and pulls the Foundation's ass out of the fire-because only a Foundation that owes you everything will forgive you betraying everything they pretend to represent. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to make preparations for a fate worse than death." <Miss Yaga walks to the door> Dr. Valera: "Why…why…?" Miss Yaga: "Oh, why'd I pick your son? He's utterly unremarkable. You were the secret ingredient, because you were the only researcher in your field willing to torture your own flesh and blood to the extent I needed you to. I had a theory that the safety a subject feels for their parent draws the attention of the phenomena. Over the course of six months, you did an exquisite job killing any remaining belief your son had that his father was anything more than an incidental sperm donor. You secured my test subject and tested my 'vaccine' by aggressively killing his love for you. And if you want to salvage your life and career from this, you'll continue killing it until I give you the signal to make the screaming stop." <Miss Yaga opens the door> "Gentlemen, I'll see you in hell." Project Erlkönig: Research documentation Irrelevant. It has already begun. Source of image undeterminedAnother addendum, my friends: There are two of them. Location: The dream glade without Names The young god of death was fused to a tall alder tree. A weird unlight gloamed from the streams of sweet-tasting ichor flowing down his face and arms into the olive carpet of grass beneath him. Each blade in the field is stiff and though he hears a gentle breeze, every blade remains stuck in place. They were like mossy cactus spines. His neck feels stiff where his spine was pierced by the jagged heartwood. He saw a vague silhouette emerge from the dark and move towards him. As his eyes continued to adjust, he saw she was tall, dressed in a black three piece suit, with two matching Foundation pins in each lapel. In one pocket, a silver chain dangled, likely the tail of an ornate pocket watch. He couldn't make out her face. He saw her bare feet crush the swampy grass, but heard no sound of crunching vegetation, or rustling clothes. He saw the grass behind her turn to straw and wilt, and then turn red. The fatherless son amidst bastards saw what she saw with his other eye. He saw himself; a bloodless, blank-featured corpse protruding from a tall, leaf-less alder tree, his face frozen in a wide-eyed scream. Two streaks of sap flow from his eyes and drip from his jaw onto the mossy green grass; the only other part of him sticking out from the crease-less bark is his left arm, hand grasping at air. She of the sanguine tears: "This won't do." He saw her reach into the pocket with the silver pocket-watch chain, saw her pull out the combat knife it was connected to. She stopped inches away from him, and then, grabbing the handle of the knife with both hands, she thrust it straight into the tree's trunk, inches below his jaw where his neck would be. She yanked the knife earthwards, and the wood rent where the blade moved like she's stripping the flesh from cooked meat. The gaping wound she creates expels a mist of flies and gold, and the man with tattoos of winged things sloshed onto the ground, dressed in a Foundation D-class uniform, writhing in a viscous pool of amber fluid. As the vision of what she sees vanishes from his other eye, he is finally able to see her face, and every nerve in his body fires a 'run, run right now' message to every limb he has. His jaw started to ache, and he realized he was voicelessly screaming. It's me. Her jaw and cheeks and flowing dark hair were human enough, except for the rivulets of blood streaming over her chin, down her neck and into her suit. Then there was what the top half of her head was covered with. To say it was merely a mask was understating it. Someone might as well have ripped a giant rabbit's head off and smashed it onto her head. The blood spilling down her front was pouring from under meat veil. She stared at him with wet red eyes. He realized those weren't eyes. Instead furry skin stretched where there normally would have been sockets, soaked through with twin shapeless patches of blood. He wheezed, coughed up more sap, and found his voice again. The man with the missing finger: "They got to you too?" The unsung savior of all mankind: <Chuckling, yet shaking her head, as though pitying a confused child> "They got to me a long time ago." The friendless child amidst the ruins: "You…you weren't really a therapist, were you?" The harbinger of a new era: "No, I suppose we've never properly been introduced. Let's fix that, shall we?" She waved her arms, and dispelled the glittering, pestilent mist. She leaned her head into the jagged, weeping tear in the now-sagging tree, and he heard her whisper something inside of it. She walked back over to him and grabbed his hair, and he shrieked in surprise as she dragged him away from the tree seconds before it burst into flame. The heat licked his feet and warmed his cheeks. All at once, the expanding air popped and he heard and felt a strong breeze move over him, move through him Shout in Whispers: "Wha-what did you just do?!" O5-06: "I gave you a Name, so you can return to the Real." Shout: "And what about you?" O5-06: "I guess I will, too." She extended a hand to Shout, and he accepted her help standing up. Now that his sense of sight and depth perception had fully returned to him, he realized O5-06 was quite a bit taller than he was. At six foot five, with a stature closer to a weight lifter than an administrator, she looked like she could easily pick him up and fold him like a chair. She spoke with a low contralto, and what Shout could only describe as a tender growl. She sounded shockingly human. O5-06: "Home is this way, Shout. Come with me." Shout: "I have no home. Where's my wife?" O5-06: <Laughs> "I know you don't. Now, come and see." In no time at all, she led him to a large well. When he stared at the surface of its water, instead of a reflection, he saw his wife from behind running from something, racing down the Level 5 hallway at Site-46. He could hear the sound of gunfire echo from the well. He saw her kick open a door, slam the door shut, and hold a scientist at gunpoint. O5-06: "She's more tenacious than I expected. We will have to move quickly." Shout: "The hell do you mean?" O5-06: "Wake up, Shout. Let your instincts guide you and your wife to safety. And always remember, I will always be with you, even after everyone else abandoned you." Addendum 8000-3: On 9/27/2024, the Foundation initiated Project Erlkönig to produce an eigenweapon capable of combatting the anomalous threat. This resulted in the disappearance of all but two progeny of Foundation staff. The parents discovered needles in their uniforms stained with blood belonging to the vanished children. The two exceptions were nomenclatively mutated individuals Shout in Whispers and Never Fades Away. This inflicted a critical blow to organizational morale, sparking widespread defections to US government. Posited reasons include dissatisfaction with Foundation leadership, fatalism regarding the organization's future, perception of recklessness in Project Erlkönig, and indications the government has acquired undetermined leverage against high ranking members of Foundation staff. Security architecture of Foundation is significantly compromised, and nerve stapling has been authorized as a disciplinary alternative to termination for staff retention purposes. Traceback: 804 "Secret Handshake" Exception: current authenticated user invalid on null in Stack trace: #0 /home/wp_9w2zak/mydomain.com/wp-includes/class-wp-hook.php(303): erce_shi...') #4 /home/wp_9w2zak/mydomain.com/wp-content/plugins/woocommerce/includes/class-wc-shipping.php(114): Deploying malware... Installed; running 'JANUS.exe' "We see you too, assholes" Foundation Infiltrator AI: Client annotations enabled Time: Two hundred hours; Address: Langley, Virginia. Entity of interest: "Data-fortress Motherwill": US government cyberwarfare nexus responsible for offensive operations against Foundation infrastructure. Recommended actions: calculating…beginning tap… <Chatter> Operator "Brandywine": "Sly Fox, this is Brandywine. We have breached the Blackwall." <Distortion, crash of desk chair hitting the ground, chorus of shoes galloping towards mic> Operator "Sly Fox": "Mother of God…I never thought I'd see the day-" Unknown 1: "I'm getting the champagne-" Sly Fox: "So this is it, right? Inject Raven Rock, send in Ground Branch, take down Site-46, and the rest of the domino-" Brandywine: "Ok, spotted the trace. They're watching us, sir." 'Gold Eagle':"They can watch this: we're waiting on you to start Operation Sunset." Brandywine:"We only just breached their cyber-defenses. How are you already in place to launch a ground assault?" Gold Eagle: "We've had so many of their people go turncoat that we've had to turn some down. Feels a little humbling. They so obviously fucked the dog here, doesn't feel right gloating. Ready to put em down?" Sly Fox: "Ready, sir." Gold Eagle: "Do it." Annotation AI: ERROR-cannot connect to Foundation cloud. High probability site has been rendered network-cauterized by antagonist organization. [DATA CORRUPTED] Site-46: Top-side camera feed: Prudential Center Class C employee entrance Prudential Center lights abruptly turn off; feed switches to night-vision. Three formations identified as DevGru combat units dressed in unidentifiable combat fatigues file into atrium and proceed into Hotel Lobby. Memetic firewall compromised; units file into service elevators and proceed underground. Site-46: Top-side camera-2 feed Boylston Station tunnel vehicle service entrance Military vehicles identified as M1-Abrams tanks drive in front of Heavy Asset Transmission Chamber. Individuals in military fatigues identified by face recognition algorithms as Level 4 employees. Unauthorized breach of embedded security OS. Unauthorized installation of unknown software. Credentials accepted. Site perimeter systems transferred to remote admin. Tanks and troop transports move into transmission chamber. Static. Site-46: Level 5 sector camera feed: Level 5 ad hoc quarters for interned Foundation staff within target age range of phenomena Footage: Dr. Anthony Valera proceeding down corridor with pistol drawn. Dr. Valera is in a highly elevated stress state. Enters code to quarters and walks inside. Subject identified as [Automated Change: UNKNOWN]||||||||||||||||||| <Footage briefly resets> <Subject identified as Never Fades Away jumps on Dr. Valera and delivers a rabbit punch to the back of Dr. Valera's head. Gun clatters out of his hands. Fades proceeds to kick Dr. Valera in the head, then frisks him for credentials.> Never Fades Away: "I always knew you had a glass jaw. Where's the counter agent to Shout's containment chamber…there we go…" Dr. Valera: "You know you're not making it out of here alive." Fades: "As long as your son outlives you by a fucking millisecond I can die happy. Life boils down to the death you choose. How did you see yourself filling in that blank?" Dr. Valera: "I didn't. But humor me a moment. How did you compromise so many of my staff members? What leverage could you have had?" Fades: "Look at my face. Do the math. You know, some parents are a little less open about how little they care. It makes it a lot easier to make the right people receptive. Beyond that? I guess I'm a charmer. And, oh cute, you left the safety on-" <Fades switches off the safety> "And to answer the other question you meant to ask me, you guessed right. I did find out the nature of Erlkönig. I would have told him everything if you'd let us have that night together. He would have gone ahead with it anyways, but it stopped being about you. You tortured him, but it was that stupid therapist that made him want to be a hero." Dr. Valera: "If you learned about Erlkönig, then you surely know what you're capable of now. Why haven't you tried taking my name?" Fades: "When you die, I want your name to exist long enough for your crimes to spear it. Your turn: why do you hate your son so much?" Dr. Valera: "He's not my son. He's some bastard I fathered with a prostitute that a certain uppity [REDACTED] foisted on me nine months ago-" Fades: "That's impossible. You shot his finger off when he was seventeen. You were invited to our wedding. I'd only convinced him to go no-contact with you two years ago. You-oh…oh Jesus…" <Fades smashes the butt of the pistol into Valera's face, knocking him to the ground> Fades: "You son of a bitch. You amnesticized yourself." <A sudden breeze whistles through the narrow doorway behind Dr. Valera. Dr. Valera's eyes widen in horror.> Dr. Valera: "What have you done?" <Camera video feed cuts out> Fades: "What's happening to m-" Dr. Valera:"Shoot me."<The pitch of his voice begins to heighten, likely due to the slow liquefaction of his larynx> "Shoot me! Please!" < Fades fires two shots in quick succession, and then a third. The shots are followed by a sharp splashing sound, like a pile of wet towels were dumped on the ground or soggy offal plopped on a scale. Dr. Valera's breathing takes unnaturally long to slow and stop.> <Sound of Fades audibly retching> Annotation AI: ERROR Admin data access revoked, all camera systems disabled [DATA CORRUPTED] Addendum: Wake up, Shout. <-WAKE UP-> You could have just asked, you know. |
SCP-8083 | keter | Location of SCP-8083 on a star map. Item #: SCP-8083 Special Containment Procedures: At this time, effective containment of SCP-8083 is not feasible. Research into the nature of SCP-8083-A and any means of shielding the human population from its effects is underway and is to be considered high priority. Individuals showing symptoms of SCP-8083-B are to be detained and examined by means of interview and, if results are inconclusive, full brain imaging at a Foundation medical facility. Individuals whose results show no abnormal alterations may be released after administration of Class-C amnestics to erase any recollection of confirmed exposure to SCP-8083-A. Instances of SCP-8083-C are to be held separately in standard humanoid containment cells at the nearest Foundation site. Any contact or communication between instances of SCP-8083-C must be pre-approved by Level 3 research personnel and monitored via CCTV with audio capture. All instances of SCP-8083-C are to be prevented from directly viewing the sky at all times. Attempts to conduct any scientific studies of SCP-8083 by civilian organizations are to be monitored and discouraged by Foundation scientists embedded within the responsible organizations. Sabotage operations are permissible pending approval of the O5 Council. Description: SCP-8083 is a pulsar located within the Cassiopeia constellation approximately 4700 light-years from Earth, provisionally named PSR J0041+5846, with a relatively slow rotation period of 1.322 seconds. SCP-8083 was discovered on 2021/04/19 by the Foundation orbital radio telescope Rubin-MR-2 while monitoring a previously well documented stellar region. At 04:31 UTC, the first electromagnetic flash from SCP-8083 was captured. It is not currently understood why the pulsar was not detected at a prior time.1 SCP-8083's rotating poles emit an electromagnetic signal designated SCP-8083-A. The signal has an abnormally well defined, limited frequency band, with low intensity gamma rays and negligible output in the visible light spectrum but powerful amplitudinal peaks of [REDACTED]. It is hypothesized that SCP-8083-A encodes some form of data transmission. Project 8083-KLEIS is underway as of 2021/05/24 to investigate this possibility through cryptoanalysis and differential spectral analysis of the signal. For this purpose, all of SCP-8083-A's transmission history is to be recorded and archived in digital form. Orbital radio telescope Rubin-MR-2 is now exclusively assigned to this task for as long as necessary. In spite of its weak visible light component, SCP-8083-A appears to be perceptible by human beings through the visual sensory system.2 When observing the precise location of SCP-8083 in the Cassiopeia constellation for extended periods of time, the brain is able to detect SCP-8083-A through unknown means and triggers an anomalous neurological condition designated SCP-8083-B. This effect is cumulative and permanent. Irreversible effects have been observed after exceeding 3 minutes of cumulative exposure. Individuals confirmed to have sustained more than 3 minutes of exposure to SCP-8083-A in total are designated SCP-8083-C. Notably, common protective eyewear does not provide adequate protection against SCP-8083-A. The most recognizable symptom of SCP-8083-B is synchronized blinking. After exceeding the danger threshold of exposure, SCP-8083-C instances begin blinking in precise intervals equal to the interval between SCP-8083-A pulses.3 Although subjects are still able to close their eyes at will, attempts to induce irregular blinking by irritation of the eye have no effect. Other known symptoms include, but are not limited to: conscious contraction of muscles in the face, neck, throat and arms in regular patterns (sometimes accompanied by subtle clearing of the throat or the nasal passageway), other minor voluntary and involuntary muscle spasms, the desire to repeat certain actions a set number of times. No SCP-8083-C instances have shown any signs of awareness of their unusual behavior and, with the exception of the aforementioned symptoms, appear to behave normally. Captured SCP-8083-C instances generally assert they feel normal and healthy, frequently expressing confusion and desire to return to their family and occupation. + Addendum 8083-1: Interview Log 8083-1 - Close Addendum 8083-1 INTERVIEW LOG 8083-1 DATE: 2021/04/28, 08:30 INTERVIEWEE: SCP-8083-C-1 (formerly Level 2 Researcher ███████ ████, Department of Astronomy), first identified and contained SCP-8083-C instance INTERVIEWER: Dr. ██████ [BEGIN INTERVIEW] Interviewer: And we're rolling. Good morning, C-1. SCP-8083-C-1 remains silent. Body language shows agitation. Eyes are constantly blinking at a regular interval of approximately 1.3 seconds. Interviewer: Look, ███████, I'm going to break protocol just this once and say this. I'm really sorry that we have to do this, okay, but please understand we're concerned about your well-being and we need your help to figure out what's going on here. You're not being punished for anything, we just want to make this as quick and painless for all of us as possible. Alright? SCP-8083-C-1 relaxes slightly and leans back in its chair. SCP-8083-C-1: I don't know what you mean, I feel fine. Interviewer: Why do you keep blinking like that? You're doing it right now. Your colleagues said you started doing it after you finished analyzing those new Rubin transmissions. Do you have something in your eye? SCP-8083-C-1: No, I don't have anything in my eye. I really don't know what you're talking about, my blinking feels totally normal. Interviewer: Let's start from the beginning. We've heard the satellite Rubin-MR-2 has discovered a strange object recently. Tell me about it. SCP-8083-C-1: Well, the satellite was pointed in the same direction for weeks, just doing some idle monitoring—we'd been working on a new observation schedule for a while—when one day it started picking up some signal we'd never seen before. SCP-8083-C-1 flexes a muscle underneath its right jaw four times. Interviewer: What was it? SCP-8083-C-1: Well, it resembles a pulsar, but a rather strange one. For starters, we've been trying to figure out why it suddenly popped up out of nowhere. That doesn't just happen. I wanted to think I'd witnessed the birth of a new pulsar, but it spins pretty slowly, which essentially rules that out. Interviewer: How slow is that? SCP-8083-C-1: One point thirty-two second period, ish. Interviewer: Funny, that's about as fast as you've been blinking this whole time. SCP-8083-C-1: What the… Is this some kind of joke? I told you I'm blinking like normal. What does my blinking have to do with the damn star, anyway? Interviewer: Let's continue. What else can you tell me about the pulsar? SCP-8083-C-1: The EM signature is weird. [REDACTED] is all over the place, then there's a cutoff just before the visible spectrum, and barely any gamma rays at all. SCP-8083-C-1 shifts its right shoulder three times. Interviewer: Why do you think that is? SCP-8083-C-1: You tell me. I thought it might be a glitch in the readings, but it's consistent. So far I've never seen anything like it. Interviewer: What did you do after you discovered this? SCP-8083-C-1: Well, there's not much to be done. █████ told me to report it as a potential object of interest, so I did, and that was the end of it. I tried to observe it on my own outside of work one time, but that's it. Interviewer: Tell me about that. SCP-8083-C-1: Well, I drove out of town one night and brought my two telescopes… I do that pretty often, it does my brain so much good. I keep a whole backlog of stuff to try to capture when I'm out there. And while I was waiting to get a good shot with the big gun, I pointed the small one at Cassiopeia, in the direction of the pulsar. I didn't really expect to see anything, but I was curious, and I still remembered the exact coordinates. Interviewer: And did you see it? SCP-8083-C-1: No, of course not. It was a one in a million chance. This star is just way too dim. But I couldn't help but just stand there and look for a while, with my own eyes. I thought maybe a miracle would happen and I'd see something, but no. Interviewer: I see. How much time did you spend trying to observe it? SCP-8083-C-1 makes two quiet snorting noises and clears its throat twice. SCP-8083-C-1: How much? Well… not too much. Gave it about fifteen minutes with the telescope and when I saw that wasn't going anywhere, I gave up. Interviewer: Okay. You said you tried to see it with your own eyes as well. How long did you look at it? SCP-8083-C-1: But I didn't see anything. It's just not visible, plain and simple. Interviewer: Please answer the question. SCP-8083-C-1: Uh… about five minutes? I don't know. I was a bit spaced out, just waiting to take the big shot with the other telescope. SCP-8083-C-1 rotates its left wrist until the crack of a joint is heard, then its right wrist, and then repeats both motions a second time. Interviewer: Very well. Are you still feeling alright? SCP-8083-C-1: Yeah, of course. Doc, can I- Interviewer: We'll do everything we can for you, C-1, you have my word. This interview is over. SCP-8083-C-1 closes its mouth and frowns at the camera, still blinking in regular intervals. [END INTERVIEW] - Close Addendum 8083-1 + [LEVEL 3 CLASSIFIED] Addendum 8083-2: Autopsy Report 2623-199 - Close Addendum 8083-2 WARNING: THE FOLLOWING FILE IS LEVEL 3/8083 CLASSIFIED ANY ATTEMPT TO ACCESS THIS FILE WITHOUT LEVEL 3/8083 AUTHORIZATION WILL BE LOGGED AND WILL LEAD TO IMMEDIATE DISCIPLINARY ACTION. AUTOPSY REPORT REPORT #: 2623-199 SUBJECT: SCP-8083-C-14, formerly D-8124 TIME STARTED: 2021/05/23, 22:14 TIME FINISHED: 2021/05/24, 02:55 TIME OF DEATH: T-5 hours CAUSE OF DEATH: Heart failure caused by lethal injection INTAKE NOTES: Subject exposed to SCP-8083-A for one (1) hour. Subject was experiencing symptoms of SCP-8083-B but claimed to feel perfectly well and acted as normal until death. Brain scans showed unclear but extensive alterations to brain anatomy. FINDINGS: Brain extracted from subject. Approximately 20% reduction in mass compared to healthy specimen. Interhemispheric fissure partially fused in several spots. Temporal and parietal lobes diminished but appearing normal. Significant decrease in number of cerebral folds on frontal lobe. Unknown spongy cellular growth found stemming from occipital lobe in extensive contact with surface of cerebellum. Removed temporal and parietal lobes from cortex. Further cross-section of the brain shows increased porosity in most brain tissue. Amygdalae found enlarged by ~35%. Progressive brown discoloration of inner brain tissue. Ventricles enlarged and connected, forming a central chamber filled with viscous brown fluid. 190 ml of brown substance drained from ventrical chamber. Additional highly porous tissue found which serves no clear purpose in any neuroanatomical structure. Inner surface of ventrical chamber lined with exposed nerve endings. Bottom of chamber contains more foreign cellular growth connecting directly to spinal cord via brain stem. Minor portion of spinal nerves branch out freely into the chamber. Pineal gland not present. Black spherical object with hardened outer shell found in place of hypothalamus, approx. 35 mm in diameter. Unable to bisect object using available lab tools. All samples preserved for further study where possible. Contact with air found to cause rapid decay in porous tissue. Dr. █████████ Chief Surgeon, Site-██ - Close Addendum 8083-2 + [NEW] [LEVEL 4 CLASSIFIED] Addendum 8083-3: Project 8083-KLEIS Preliminary Findings Report - Close Addendum 8083-3 BY ORDER OF THE OVERSEER COUNCIL The following file is Level 4/8083 classified. Unauthorized access is forbidden. Your access has been logged and will be subject to audit. PROJECT 8083-KLEIS PRELIMINARY FINDINGS REPORT Date: 2021/06/12 To O5-██ and anyone else concerned, As you know, Project 8083-KLEIS has been occupying some of the Foundation's top cryptoanalysts around the clock for several weeks now. I'm no medical doctor and personally haven't the stomach to read that autopsy report in full, but rest assured I fully understand the gravity of the situation we're in. For the most part, the transmission is still completely opaque to us, particularly the mechanics of its effect on people. We have good reason to assume there is a digital data stream encoded within [REDACTED PER ORDER OF O5-██] containing seemingly random data, and we have not been able to crack the code yet. Given that its contents affect humans, I believe humans have some kind of innate ability to decrypt and understand this code. For this kind of transmission, the most reasonable encryption scheme to choose would be a symmetrical stream cipher, meaning the key expands into a long, randomized and unique key stream pattern used to mask the plain data, and it would seem this key lies within us all. Dr. ██████, who conducted the interview with 8083-C-1 and is also a liaison with the Project, is convinced this is somehow related to the symptoms. More importantly, we have found something concerning regarding the beginning of this transmission, which may answer the Astronomy Department's burning question regarding how this object came to be. The very first transmission we received from Cassiopeia was not, in fact, the initial pulsar flash caught by Rubin-MR-2. One day prior, on 2021/04/18, Rubin received a one-off signal from the same direction, barely distinguishable from the cosmic radiation background. It was very short and highly condensed, like a machine language. Some of it is still incomprehensible, but there are a few pieces of plain analog data we were able to extract. Namely a short burst resembling a word, followed by the number three, followed by another short burst and three decimal numbers. Sol III and what we presume to be its coordinates. Pardon the conjecture, but at this point I have a sinking feeling. Whatever SCP-8083 is, it isn't a star, and it certainly didn't pop into existence on April 19. Someone out there can control it and they pointed it right at us. Please advise. Dr. ██████ Project Lead Footnotes 1. It is believed that the angle of a pulsar's polar beam relative to its axis of rotation may drift over time similarly to the drift of Earth's magnetic poles. However, this change is gradual and occurs over hundreds of thousands of years. 2. Experiments mapping brain activity during exposure to SCP-8083-A show consistent spikes in activity in the occipital lobe, associated with vision. 3. 1.322 seconds. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8083" by toodrowsycantread, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8083. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: scp-8083-location.png Author: toodrowsycantread License: CC BY 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Derivative Of: (cropped and edited) Name: Cassiopeia IAU Author: IAU and Sky & Telescope magazine (Roger Sinnott & Rick Fienberg) License: CC BY 3.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-8083 | uncontained | Location of SCP-8083 on a star map. Item #: SCP-8083 Special Containment Procedures: At this time, effective containment of SCP-8083 is not feasible. Research into the nature of SCP-8083-A and any means of shielding the human population from its effects is underway and is to be considered high priority. Individuals showing symptoms of SCP-8083-B are to be detained and examined by means of interview and, if results are inconclusive, full brain imaging at a Foundation medical facility. Individuals whose results show no abnormal alterations may be released after administration of Class-C amnestics to erase any recollection of confirmed exposure to SCP-8083-A. Instances of SCP-8083-C are to be held separately in standard humanoid containment cells at the nearest Foundation site. Any contact or communication between instances of SCP-8083-C must be pre-approved by Level 3 research personnel and monitored via CCTV with audio capture. All instances of SCP-8083-C are to be prevented from directly viewing the sky at all times. Attempts to conduct any scientific studies of SCP-8083 by civilian organizations are to be monitored and discouraged by Foundation scientists embedded within the responsible organizations. Sabotage operations are permissible pending approval of the O5 Council. Description: SCP-8083 is a pulsar located within the Cassiopeia constellation approximately 4700 light-years from Earth, provisionally named PSR J0041+5846, with a relatively slow rotation period of 1.322 seconds. SCP-8083 was discovered on 2021/04/19 by the Foundation orbital radio telescope Rubin-MR-2 while monitoring a previously well documented stellar region. At 04:31 UTC, the first electromagnetic flash from SCP-8083 was captured. It is not currently understood why the pulsar was not detected at a prior time.1 SCP-8083's rotating poles emit an electromagnetic signal designated SCP-8083-A. The signal has an abnormally well defined, limited frequency band, with low intensity gamma rays and negligible output in the visible light spectrum but powerful amplitudinal peaks of [REDACTED]. It is hypothesized that SCP-8083-A encodes some form of data transmission. Project 8083-KLEIS is underway as of 2021/05/24 to investigate this possibility through cryptoanalysis and differential spectral analysis of the signal. For this purpose, all of SCP-8083-A's transmission history is to be recorded and archived in digital form. Orbital radio telescope Rubin-MR-2 is now exclusively assigned to this task for as long as necessary. In spite of its weak visible light component, SCP-8083-A appears to be perceptible by human beings through the visual sensory system.2 When observing the precise location of SCP-8083 in the Cassiopeia constellation for extended periods of time, the brain is able to detect SCP-8083-A through unknown means and triggers an anomalous neurological condition designated SCP-8083-B. This effect is cumulative and permanent. Irreversible effects have been observed after exceeding 3 minutes of cumulative exposure. Individuals confirmed to have sustained more than 3 minutes of exposure to SCP-8083-A in total are designated SCP-8083-C. Notably, common protective eyewear does not provide adequate protection against SCP-8083-A. The most recognizable symptom of SCP-8083-B is synchronized blinking. After exceeding the danger threshold of exposure, SCP-8083-C instances begin blinking in precise intervals equal to the interval between SCP-8083-A pulses.3 Although subjects are still able to close their eyes at will, attempts to induce irregular blinking by irritation of the eye have no effect. Other known symptoms include, but are not limited to: conscious contraction of muscles in the face, neck, throat and arms in regular patterns (sometimes accompanied by subtle clearing of the throat or the nasal passageway), other minor voluntary and involuntary muscle spasms, the desire to repeat certain actions a set number of times. No SCP-8083-C instances have shown any signs of awareness of their unusual behavior and, with the exception of the aforementioned symptoms, appear to behave normally. Captured SCP-8083-C instances generally assert they feel normal and healthy, frequently expressing confusion and desire to return to their family and occupation. + Addendum 8083-1: Interview Log 8083-1 - Close Addendum 8083-1 INTERVIEW LOG 8083-1 DATE: 2021/04/28, 08:30 INTERVIEWEE: SCP-8083-C-1 (formerly Level 2 Researcher ███████ ████, Department of Astronomy), first identified and contained SCP-8083-C instance INTERVIEWER: Dr. ██████ [BEGIN INTERVIEW] Interviewer: And we're rolling. Good morning, C-1. SCP-8083-C-1 remains silent. Body language shows agitation. Eyes are constantly blinking at a regular interval of approximately 1.3 seconds. Interviewer: Look, ███████, I'm going to break protocol just this once and say this. I'm really sorry that we have to do this, okay, but please understand we're concerned about your well-being and we need your help to figure out what's going on here. You're not being punished for anything, we just want to make this as quick and painless for all of us as possible. Alright? SCP-8083-C-1 relaxes slightly and leans back in its chair. SCP-8083-C-1: I don't know what you mean, I feel fine. Interviewer: Why do you keep blinking like that? You're doing it right now. Your colleagues said you started doing it after you finished analyzing those new Rubin transmissions. Do you have something in your eye? SCP-8083-C-1: No, I don't have anything in my eye. I really don't know what you're talking about, my blinking feels totally normal. Interviewer: Let's start from the beginning. We've heard the satellite Rubin-MR-2 has discovered a strange object recently. Tell me about it. SCP-8083-C-1: Well, the satellite was pointed in the same direction for weeks, just doing some idle monitoring—we'd been working on a new observation schedule for a while—when one day it started picking up some signal we'd never seen before. SCP-8083-C-1 flexes a muscle underneath its right jaw four times. Interviewer: What was it? SCP-8083-C-1: Well, it resembles a pulsar, but a rather strange one. For starters, we've been trying to figure out why it suddenly popped up out of nowhere. That doesn't just happen. I wanted to think I'd witnessed the birth of a new pulsar, but it spins pretty slowly, which essentially rules that out. Interviewer: How slow is that? SCP-8083-C-1: One point thirty-two second period, ish. Interviewer: Funny, that's about as fast as you've been blinking this whole time. SCP-8083-C-1: What the… Is this some kind of joke? I told you I'm blinking like normal. What does my blinking have to do with the damn star, anyway? Interviewer: Let's continue. What else can you tell me about the pulsar? SCP-8083-C-1: The EM signature is weird. [REDACTED] is all over the place, then there's a cutoff just before the visible spectrum, and barely any gamma rays at all. SCP-8083-C-1 shifts its right shoulder three times. Interviewer: Why do you think that is? SCP-8083-C-1: You tell me. I thought it might be a glitch in the readings, but it's consistent. So far I've never seen anything like it. Interviewer: What did you do after you discovered this? SCP-8083-C-1: Well, there's not much to be done. █████ told me to report it as a potential object of interest, so I did, and that was the end of it. I tried to observe it on my own outside of work one time, but that's it. Interviewer: Tell me about that. SCP-8083-C-1: Well, I drove out of town one night and brought my two telescopes… I do that pretty often, it does my brain so much good. I keep a whole backlog of stuff to try to capture when I'm out there. And while I was waiting to get a good shot with the big gun, I pointed the small one at Cassiopeia, in the direction of the pulsar. I didn't really expect to see anything, but I was curious, and I still remembered the exact coordinates. Interviewer: And did you see it? SCP-8083-C-1: No, of course not. It was a one in a million chance. This star is just way too dim. But I couldn't help but just stand there and look for a while, with my own eyes. I thought maybe a miracle would happen and I'd see something, but no. Interviewer: I see. How much time did you spend trying to observe it? SCP-8083-C-1 makes two quiet snorting noises and clears its throat twice. SCP-8083-C-1: How much? Well… not too much. Gave it about fifteen minutes with the telescope and when I saw that wasn't going anywhere, I gave up. Interviewer: Okay. You said you tried to see it with your own eyes as well. How long did you look at it? SCP-8083-C-1: But I didn't see anything. It's just not visible, plain and simple. Interviewer: Please answer the question. SCP-8083-C-1: Uh… about five minutes? I don't know. I was a bit spaced out, just waiting to take the big shot with the other telescope. SCP-8083-C-1 rotates its left wrist until the crack of a joint is heard, then its right wrist, and then repeats both motions a second time. Interviewer: Very well. Are you still feeling alright? SCP-8083-C-1: Yeah, of course. Doc, can I- Interviewer: We'll do everything we can for you, C-1, you have my word. This interview is over. SCP-8083-C-1 closes its mouth and frowns at the camera, still blinking in regular intervals. [END INTERVIEW] - Close Addendum 8083-1 + [LEVEL 3 CLASSIFIED] Addendum 8083-2: Autopsy Report 2623-199 - Close Addendum 8083-2 WARNING: THE FOLLOWING FILE IS LEVEL 3/8083 CLASSIFIED ANY ATTEMPT TO ACCESS THIS FILE WITHOUT LEVEL 3/8083 AUTHORIZATION WILL BE LOGGED AND WILL LEAD TO IMMEDIATE DISCIPLINARY ACTION. AUTOPSY REPORT REPORT #: 2623-199 SUBJECT: SCP-8083-C-14, formerly D-8124 TIME STARTED: 2021/05/23, 22:14 TIME FINISHED: 2021/05/24, 02:55 TIME OF DEATH: T-5 hours CAUSE OF DEATH: Heart failure caused by lethal injection INTAKE NOTES: Subject exposed to SCP-8083-A for one (1) hour. Subject was experiencing symptoms of SCP-8083-B but claimed to feel perfectly well and acted as normal until death. Brain scans showed unclear but extensive alterations to brain anatomy. FINDINGS: Brain extracted from subject. Approximately 20% reduction in mass compared to healthy specimen. Interhemispheric fissure partially fused in several spots. Temporal and parietal lobes diminished but appearing normal. Significant decrease in number of cerebral folds on frontal lobe. Unknown spongy cellular growth found stemming from occipital lobe in extensive contact with surface of cerebellum. Removed temporal and parietal lobes from cortex. Further cross-section of the brain shows increased porosity in most brain tissue. Amygdalae found enlarged by ~35%. Progressive brown discoloration of inner brain tissue. Ventricles enlarged and connected, forming a central chamber filled with viscous brown fluid. 190 ml of brown substance drained from ventrical chamber. Additional highly porous tissue found which serves no clear purpose in any neuroanatomical structure. Inner surface of ventrical chamber lined with exposed nerve endings. Bottom of chamber contains more foreign cellular growth connecting directly to spinal cord via brain stem. Minor portion of spinal nerves branch out freely into the chamber. Pineal gland not present. Black spherical object with hardened outer shell found in place of hypothalamus, approx. 35 mm in diameter. Unable to bisect object using available lab tools. All samples preserved for further study where possible. Contact with air found to cause rapid decay in porous tissue. Dr. █████████ Chief Surgeon, Site-██ - Close Addendum 8083-2 + [NEW] [LEVEL 4 CLASSIFIED] Addendum 8083-3: Project 8083-KLEIS Preliminary Findings Report - Close Addendum 8083-3 BY ORDER OF THE OVERSEER COUNCIL The following file is Level 4/8083 classified. Unauthorized access is forbidden. Your access has been logged and will be subject to audit. PROJECT 8083-KLEIS PRELIMINARY FINDINGS REPORT Date: 2021/06/12 To O5-██ and anyone else concerned, As you know, Project 8083-KLEIS has been occupying some of the Foundation's top cryptoanalysts around the clock for several weeks now. I'm no medical doctor and personally haven't the stomach to read that autopsy report in full, but rest assured I fully understand the gravity of the situation we're in. For the most part, the transmission is still completely opaque to us, particularly the mechanics of its effect on people. We have good reason to assume there is a digital data stream encoded within [REDACTED PER ORDER OF O5-██] containing seemingly random data, and we have not been able to crack the code yet. Given that its contents affect humans, I believe humans have some kind of innate ability to decrypt and understand this code. For this kind of transmission, the most reasonable encryption scheme to choose would be a symmetrical stream cipher, meaning the key expands into a long, randomized and unique key stream pattern used to mask the plain data, and it would seem this key lies within us all. Dr. ██████, who conducted the interview with 8083-C-1 and is also a liaison with the Project, is convinced this is somehow related to the symptoms. More importantly, we have found something concerning regarding the beginning of this transmission, which may answer the Astronomy Department's burning question regarding how this object came to be. The very first transmission we received from Cassiopeia was not, in fact, the initial pulsar flash caught by Rubin-MR-2. One day prior, on 2021/04/18, Rubin received a one-off signal from the same direction, barely distinguishable from the cosmic radiation background. It was very short and highly condensed, like a machine language. Some of it is still incomprehensible, but there are a few pieces of plain analog data we were able to extract. Namely a short burst resembling a word, followed by the number three, followed by another short burst and three decimal numbers. Sol III and what we presume to be its coordinates. Pardon the conjecture, but at this point I have a sinking feeling. Whatever SCP-8083 is, it isn't a star, and it certainly didn't pop into existence on April 19. Someone out there can control it and they pointed it right at us. Please advise. Dr. ██████ Project Lead Footnotes 1. It is believed that the angle of a pulsar's polar beam relative to its axis of rotation may drift over time similarly to the drift of Earth's magnetic poles. However, this change is gradual and occurs over hundreds of thousands of years. 2. Experiments mapping brain activity during exposure to SCP-8083-A show consistent spikes in activity in the occipital lobe, associated with vision. 3. 1.322 seconds. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8083" by toodrowsycantread, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8083. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: scp-8083-location.png Author: toodrowsycantread License: CC BY 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Derivative Of: (cropped and edited) Name: Cassiopeia IAU Author: IAU and Sky & Telescope magazine (Roger Sinnott & Rick Fienberg) License: CC BY 3.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-8084 | keter | REAGAN: Please, just take this off our hands. I'll be grateful if you just make it go away. OCTOBER 23rd, 1985 [Edward Weston sorts through a folder containing population census files on the Insular Government of the Philippine Islands. On the left-hand side of his table is an original copy of the population statistics in the southern regions. On the right-hand side of his table is another copy of the same document, only handwritten, neatly stacked in a folder with the CIA's logo.] [Weston places the folder down in front of himself and starts writing down the statistics from the original to his copy, occasionally grabbing and reading off another folder in his desk drawer.] [He reads the statistics for a province called "Batangas". He looks at the original copy, then grabs a folder, also labelled "Batangas". He scans the statistics in the new folder, compares it with the original copy, and back again. According to the original copy, "Batangas" had around 10,000 Filipino prisoners of war living in an internment camp near the border, but according to the new folder's statistics, it has around 50 citizens, and no internment camp is listed, only a regional federal prison.] [He massages his temples. He stands up, grab more folders labelled "Batangas", and rapidly sorts through them.] [He scans the contents of the final file, then goes back and sits down behind his desk. His hand is shaking.] [He re-reads the original copy twice, but his hands slip. He drops the papers on the floor.] [He reaches for the papers. His arm collapses, sliding his handwritten copy off the table. He tries to stand up again. His arms shake as he forces himself to get up. He stands for a few seconds, then falls to the floor. He grabs the legs of his chair, and tries to grab the paracetamol1 in his drawer, but his hand stops mid-air.] [His body seizes, convulses on the floor, then stops. He convulses again for 3 hours.] [He stops and looks at the time. It is around 15:00. He gets up from the floor, wipes his saliva off his face, and sits up. He notes down "0 POWs" on the nearest scrap of paper next to him. He appears to be in a dissociative state.] [15 minutes pass. He shivers.] [He looks around the room in confusion.] He rifles through the file cabinet of SCP documents, eventually landing on a specific file. Footnotes 1. Analgesic/antipyretic prescription tablets, used for headaches and fevers. « SCP-8083 | SCP-8084 | SCP-8085 » Photophobia Anthology 2024 Anthropophobia ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8084" by basirskipreader and FLOORBOARDS, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8084. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. |
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box-shadow: none; border-radius: 0; } #page-content .rate-box-with-credit-button .fa-info { border: none; color: #333; } #page-content .rate-box-with-credit-button .fa-info:hover { background: #333; color: #fff; } .rate-box-with-credit-button .cancel { border: solid 1px #fff; } .page-rate-widget-box { box-shadow: none; border: solid 1px #bbb; margin: unset; margin-bottom: 4px; border-radius: 0; font-family: var(--ui-font); } .page-rate-widget-box .rate-points { background-color: #fff !important; color: #333 !important; border: none !important; border-radius: 0; } .page-rate-widget-box .rateup, .page-rate-widget-box .ratedown { background-color: #fff; border-top: none; border-bottom: none; } .page-rate-widget-box .rateup a, .page-rate-widget-box .ratedown a { background: transparent; color: #333; } .page-rate-widget-box .rateup a:hover, .page-rate-widget-box .ratedown a:hover { background: #333; color: #fff; } .page-rate-widget-box .cancel { background: #fff; border: none; border-radius: 0; display: inline-block; } .page-rate-widget-box .cancel a { color: #333; } .page-rate-widget-box .cancel a:hover { background: #333; color: #fff; border-radius: 0; } #page-content .rate-box-with-credit-button .page-rate-widget-box { border: none; } /* CONTENT > Rate Module > Author Label */ .authorlink-wrapper { --author-top-adjust: 0; --author-bottom-adjust: 0; --author-right-adjust: 0; font-family: var(--ui-font); font-size: var(--base-font-size); } /* CONTENT > Side Box */ .anchor { position: sticky; height: 0; top: 0; } .sidebox { padding: .14rem; margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 8px; width: calc((100vw - 870px)/2); max-height: calc(100vh - 18rem); position: absolute; top: 0; left: 103.5%; z-index: 5; overflow: auto; box-sizing: border-box; } @media (max-width: 1290px) { .sidebox { display: none; visibility: hidden; } } /* CONTENT > Image Block */ .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { background-color: #f4f4f4; color: #3b3b3b; border: solid 2px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1); margin-top: 10px; box-sizing: border-box; border-radius: 5px; } .scp-image-block { border: none; box-shadow: none; } .scp-image-block img { border: solid 2px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1); box-sizing: border-box; } .imagediv { float: right; margin: 15px } @media (max-width: 540px) { .imagediv { float: unset; text-align: center; margin: 1.3rem auto 1.3rem auto; } } @media only screen and (max-width: 600px) { .scp-image-block.block-right { float: none; margin: 10px auto; } } /* CONTENT > Tables Base */ #page-content tr th { padding: 6px; border: 2px solid rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2); } #page-content tr td { padding: 12px; border: 2px solid #bfbfbf; line-height: 1.4; } #page-content .sidebox tr td, #page-content .sidebox tr th { padding: 0.35em; } /* CONTENT > Tables Customization (Table Coloring System) */ /* CONTENT > Tables Customization (Table Coloring System) > Table Headings, Image Captions */ #page-content .table1 tr th, #page-content .table1 .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { background-color: #E0FFD4; } #page-content .table2 tr th, #page-content .table2 .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { background-color: #D8ECF4; } #page-content .table3 tr th, #page-content .table3 .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { background-color: #FDF6D7; } #page-content .table4 tr th, #page-content .table4 .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { background-color: #FFDFCD; } #page-content .table5 tr th, #page-content .table5 .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { background-color: #FFCFCF; } #page-content .table6 tr th, #page-content .table6 .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { background-color: rgba(146, 0, 255, 0.2); } .tableb .wiki-content-table { border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 2px; } /* CONTENT > Tables Customization (Table Coloring System) > Other Colored Divs */ .table1 .blockquote, .table1 div.blockquote, .table1 blockquote, .table1 .jotting, .table1 .notation, .table1 .modal, .table1 .paper, .blockquote.table1, div.blockquote.table1, .jotting.table1, .notation.table1, .modal.table1, .paper.table1 { background: rgb(224, 255, 212); } .table2 .blockquote, .table2 div.blockquote, .table2 blockquote, .table2 .jotting, .table2 .notation, .table2 .modal, .table2 .paper, .blockquote.table2, div.blockquote.table2, .jotting.table2, .notation.table2, .modal.table2, .paper.table2 { background: rgb(226, 244, 255); } .table3 .blockquote, .table3 div.blockquote, .table3 blockquote, .table3 .jotting, .table3 .notation, .table3 .modal, .table3 .paper, .blockquote.table3, div.blockquote.table3, .jotting.table3, .notation.table3, .modal.table3, .paper.table3 { background: rgb(255, 245, 189); } .table4 .blockquote, .table4 div.blockquote, .table4 blockquote, .table4 .jotting, .table4 .notation, .table4 .modal, .table4 .paper, .blockquote.table4, div.blockquote.table4, .jotting.table4, .notation.table4, .modal.table4, .paper.table4 { background: rgb(255, 223, 205); } .table5 .blockquote, .table5 div.blockquote, .table5 blockquote, .table5 .jotting, .table5 .notation, .table5 .modal, .table5 .paper, .blockquote.table5, div.blockquote.table5, .jotting.table5, .notation.table5, .modal.table5, .paper.table5 { background: rgb(255, 207, 207); } .table6 .blockquote, .table6 div.blockquote, .table6 blockquote, .table6 .jotting, .table6 .notation, .table6 .modal, .table6 .paper, .blockquote.table6, div.blockquote.table6, .jotting.table6, .notation.table6, .modal.table6, .paper.table6 { background: rgb(255, 218, 255); } /* CONTENT > Tabs Base */ .yui-navset .yui-nav a, .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-nav a { background-color: inherit; background-image: inherit } .yui-navset .yui-nav a:hover, .yui-navset .yui-nav a:focus { background: inherit; text-decoration: inherit } .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a, .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a:focus, .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a:hover { color: inherit; background: inherit } .yui-navset .yui-nav, .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-nav { border-color: inherit } .yui-navset li { line-height: inherit } /* CONTENT > Tabs Customization */ .yui-navset .yui-nav, .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-nav { display: flex; flex-wrap: wrap; width: calc(100% - .125rem); margin: 0 auto; border-color: #333333; box-shadow: none; } .yui-navset .yui-nav a, /* ---- Link Modifier ---- */ .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-nav a { color: #333333; /* ---- Tab Background Colour | [UNSELECTED] ---- */ background-color: #efefef; border: unset; box-shadow: none; box-shadow: none; } .yui-navset .yui-nav a:hover, .yui-navset .yui-nav a:focus { color: #ffffff; /* ---- Tab Background Colour | [HOVER] ---- */ background-color: #333333; } .yui-navset .yui-nav li, /* ---- Listitem Modifier ---- */ .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-nav li { position: relative; display: flex; flex-grow: 2; max-width: 100%; margin: 0; padding: 0; color: #ffffff; background-color: #ffffff; border-color: transparent; box-shadow: none; } .yui-navset .yui-nav li a, .yui-navset-top .yui-nav li a, .yui-navset-bottom .yui-nav li a { display: flex; align-items: center; justify-content: center; width: 100%; } .yui-navset .yui-nav li em { border: unset; } .yui-navset .yui-nav a em, .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-nav a em { padding: .35em .75em; text-overflow: ellipsis; overflow: hidden; white-space: nowrap; } .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected, /* ---- Selection Modifier ---- */ .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-nav .selected { flex-grow: 2; margin: 0; padding: 0; /* ---- Tab Background Colour | [SELECTED] ---- */ background-color: #333333; } .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a, .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a em { border: none; } .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a { width: 100%; color: #ffffff; } .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a:focus, .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a:active { color: #ffffff; background-color: #333333; } .yui-navset .yui-content { background-color: #ffffff; box-shadow: none; } .yui-navset .yui-content, .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-content { padding: .5em; border: 1px solid #333; box-sizing: border-box; } /* CONTENT > WORDS NO BROKEY. CROQ HAS SPOKEY. and other things */ span, a { word-break: normal !important } .avatar-hover { display: none !important; } #main-content .page-tags span { max-width: 100%; } /* CONTENT > Dustjacket Assets */ .fancyhr hr { border-top: 2vw solid transparent; background-color: rgba(var(--bright-accent), 0); height: 0; box-sizing: border-box; border-image-source: url('https://wanderers-library.wikidot.com/local--files/component:dustjacket-theme/wl_hr.png'); border-image-repeat: round round; background: none; border-image-slice: 80 500 80 500 fill; border-image-width: 10em 80em 10em 80em; } .fancyborder { box-sizing: border-box; border: 2vw solid rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.5); border-image: url('https://wanderers-library.wikidot.com/local--files/component:dustjacket-theme/wl_border.png') 600 round; border-image-width: 6; padding: 2vw; } /* CONTENT > Collapsibles */ #page-content a.collapsible-block-link:hover { text-decoration: underline; color: var(--link-txt-color); } #page-content a.collapsible-block-link:not(.licensebox a.collapsible-block-link, .info-container a.collapsible-block-link, .default-col a.collapsible-block-link) { text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold; color: white; padding-top: 4px; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 9px; background: rgb(var(--accent)); border-radius: 6px; margin-top: 5px; font-family: var(--ui-font); font-size: var(--base-font-size); box-shadow: inset 0px 0px 0px 2px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.4); transition-duration: 0.4s; display: inline-block; } #page-content a.collapsible-block-link:not(.licensebox a.collapsible-block-link, .info-container a.collapsible-block-link, .default-col a.collapsible-block-link):hover { background: rgba(var(--accent), 0.7); box-shadow: none; } /* CONTENT > ACS Adjustments */ .top-left-box>.item { display: none; } .anom-bar-container { margin-top: 1.1rem; } .anom-bar-container, .anom-bar-container * { font-family: var(--head-font), Inter, sans-serif !important; } .acs-extra-1, .acs-extra-2, .acs-extra-3, .acs-extra-4 { font-family: var(--head-font), Inter, sans-serif !important; } .anom-bar > .top-box { text-transform: none; } /* CONTENT > Woed Bar Adjustments */ div.scale div.item1>div { color: #333; font-family: var(--head-font); font-size: 1.4em; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 2px; line-height: unset; } div.scale div.class1>div { color: #333; font-family: var(--head-font); font-size: 2em; line-height: 0.9em; letter-spacing: 2px; } div.scale { --woedbar-class-bar-color: #333 !important; } div.scale div.obj { height: 1.7em; } div.scale div.obj>div { font-size: 1.55em; } /* MISC */ #page-content hr { height: 2px; } .bt { color: rgb(var(--accent)); font-weight: bold; } #footer { background: transparent; color: #444; margin-top: 45px; } #footer a { color: #7b7b7b; } .footer-wikiwalk-nav { font-weight: 700; font-size: 88%; word-spacing: 5px; } #page-info-break { height: 10px; } #page-options-container { border-top: solid 1px rgba(213, 213, 213, 0.5); padding-top: 1rem; } .page-watch-options { padding-bottom: 0.6rem; font-size: 77%; } .page-options-bottom { display: flex; flex-direction: row; flex-wrap: wrap; align-content: center; justify-content: center; } .page-options-bottom a { margin: 3px; color: #FFF; background: rgb(var(--accent)); padding: 5px 13px 5px 13px; text-decoration: none; font-size: 90%; border-bottom-left-radius: 4px; border-bottom-right-radius: 4px; } .page-options-bottom a:hover { background: rgba(var(--accent), 0.8); } #page-info-break { height: 6px; } #license-area { color: #5f5f5f; background: #ecf2f1; border-top: solid 2px #d9d9d9; margin-top: 10px; } #license-area a::after { content: "."; } @media (min-width: 768px) { #main-content .page-tags { padding-right: 16rem; } } #main-content div.page-tags::before { content: "tags "; color: var(--misc-txt-color); font-family: var(--head-font); font-weight: 800; font-size: var(--page-font-size); } #main-content .page-tags a { display: inline-block; height: .8125rem; margin: 0 0 .5rem .75rem; padding: .1875rem .3125rem .1875rem 0; color: #FFF; background-color: rgb(var(--accent)); border-bottom-right-radius: .25rem; border-top-right-radius: .25rem; line-height: 13px; line-height: .8125rem; font-size: calc(var(--page-font-size) - 10%); font-weight: bold; } #main-content .page-tags a::before { width: 0; height: 0; top: -.1875rem; left: -.625rem; padding: 0 .0625rem .1875rem; border-color: transparent rgb(var(--accent)) transparent transparent; border-style: solid; border-width: .5rem .5rem .5rem 0; } #main-content .page-tags a::before, #main-content .page-tags a::after { content: ""; position: relative; float: left; } #main-content .page-tags a::after { width: .25rem; height: .25rem; top: .2813rem; left: -.5rem; background-color: #FFF; border-radius: .125rem; } #main-content .page-tags span { max-width: 100%; border-top: .5rem solid transparent; } #page-tags-input { font-weight: bold; word-spacing: 8px; } #edit-page-form input.text { font-family: var(--head-font), sans-serif; font-weight: 800; font-size: 150% !important; padding: 4px; } #edit-page-form>table.form>tbody>tr>td:nth-child(1) { font-weight: bold; } .edit-help-34 { font-size: 85%; opacity: 60%; transition-duration: 0.3s; width: fit-content; } .edit-help-34:hover { opacity: 100%; } .edit-help-34 a { margin-right: 3px; margin-left: 10px; } table.edit-page-bottomtable { width: 100%; } #edit-page-comments { height: 86px; } #lock-info { background-color: transparent; margin: 0.8em; line-height: 1.7; font-size: 86%; border: none; } #lock-info::before { content: "!"; padding-right: 12px; font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%; opacity: 60%; } #lock-timer { font-size: 115%; margin: 0 5px; } #lock-timer::before { content: "⏲ "; opacity: 80%; } textarea, #edit-page-form input.text { outline: none; border: 1px solid #ccc; transition-duration: 0.3s; transition-property: box-shadow; } textarea:focus-visible, #edit-page-form input.text:focus-visible { box-shadow: 0px 0px 0px 1px #a3a3a3; border: 1px solid #a3a3a3; } #action-area>p { font-size: 85%; color: darkslategrey; } #action-area>p:nth-child(5)>a { display: block; text-align: center; font-size: 120%; font-weight: bold; } #who-rated-page-area>div { column-count: 4; } @media (max-width: 900px) { #who-rated-page-area>div { column-count: 3; } } @media (max-width: 700px) { #who-rated-page-area>div { column-count: 2; } } @media (max-width: 540px) { #who-rated-page-area>div { column-count: 1; } } #page-content .content-warning.creditRate { padding-top: 8px; padding-right: 21px; } .preview-message { right: 0em; top: 2em; border: unset; padding: 1em 1.5em; background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.9); max-width: 29em; opacity: 1; z-index: 100; line-height: 1.7; filter: drop-shadow(0px 0px 4px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2)); color: #EDEDED; } .error-block { background-color: rgba(255, 0, 48, 0.1); text-align: center; border: none; border-top: solid 3px #B00; border-top-left-radius: 6px; border-top-right-radius: 6px; } table.page-history tbody tr:nth-child(2n) { background: rgba(var(--accent), 0.05); } .owindow { animation: fade 0.5s; } @keyframes fade { 0% { opacity: 0; } 100% { opacity: 1; } } .owindow .button-bar a { border: solid 2px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1); margin: 11px; padding: 0.5em 2em; border-radius: 4px; } .owindow .button-bar a:hover { background-color: var(--link-txt-color); color: var(--link-hover-txt-color); border-radius: 0px; } .owindow .button-bar { padding: 1.2em 1em 1.2em; } .owindow .table { margin-bottom: 1.5rem; } .owindow .title { cursor: default; font-family: var(--head-font); font-weight: 800; font-size: 155%; text-align: center; padding: 0.5em 1em; border-bottom: solid 2px rgba(187, 187, 187, 0.4); background-color: #F7F7F7; } .owindow.owait .content { padding: 0.5em 0.5em 2em; background-image: none; } .owindow.owait .content::after { content: " "; display: block; width: 1.5rem; height: 1.5rem; margin: -0.9rem auto; margin-top: 1rem; animation: loading 1.2s linear infinite; border-top: 0.4rem solid grey; border-right: 0.4rem solid transparent; border-bottom: 0.4rem solid grey; border-left: 0.4rem solid transparent; border-radius: 50%; } @keyframes loading { 0% { transform: rotate(0deg); } 100% { transform: rotate(360deg); } } .owindow.osuccess { padding: 0.5em; } .owindow div.content:nth-child(2)>img:nth-child(1) { margin-right: 1.2rem; margin-top: 1rem; } .odialog-shader { background-color: #262a39; } .btn { transition-duration: 0.15s; } .btn:not(#main-content .btn, #search-top-box-form input[type="submit"]), .btn.btn-primary, div.buttons input, input.button:not(#search-top-box-form input[type="submit"]) { padding: 0.5em; margin: 11px; border-radius: 3px; font-family: var(--ui-font); cursor: pointer; } #edit-cancel-button, #edit-diff-button, #edit-preview-button, #edit-save-draft-button, #edit-save-continue-button, #edit-save-button { background: #fff; border: solid 1px #ccc; cursor: pointer; font-family: var(--ui-font); color: #333; padding: 0.5rem 14px; margin: 1px; font-size: 90%; border-radius: 3px; } #edit-cancel-button:hover, #edit-diff-button:hover, #edit-preview-button:hover, #edit-save-draft-button:hover, #edit-save-continue-button:hover, #edit-save-button:hover { background-color: #eaeaea; } #edit-save-continue-button, #edit-save-button { background: #dbffd6; transition-duration: 0.3s; color: #005a0a; } #edit-save-continue-button:hover, #edit-save-button:hover { color: #fff; background: #0d951c; } #edit-cancel-button { background: #ffe1e1; transition-duration: 0.3s; color: #c52727; } #edit-cancel-button:hover { color: #fff; background: #c5272e; } table.page-history tbody tr { color: #757575; } .fncon { font-size: var(--page-font-size) !important; line-height: 1.4; border: 2px solid rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2); } .fncon::before { font-size: var(--page-font-size) !important; } .hovertip { border: none !important; box-shadow: 0px 0px 4px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2); background: #FFF; padding: 3px; max-width: 400px; } input.checkbox, .page-history input, #h-perpage { cursor: pointer; } input, textarea { font-family: var(--ui-font); } #breadcrumbs, .pseudocrumbs { font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%; font-family: var(--ui-font); } /* ---- REDUCED MOTION ACCESSIBILITY ---- */ @media (prefers-reduced-motion: reduce) { *, *::before, *::after { animation-duration: .001s !important; animation-iteration-count: 1 !important; transition-duration: .001s !important; } } /* @MEDIA */ @media (max-width: 850px) { #header h2::before { font-size: 1.4em; } } @media (max-width: 700px) { #header h2::before { font-size: 1.2em; margin-top: 0.3rem; } #top-bar, #top-bar a { top: 8.8rem; font-size: 90%; } } @media (max-width: 620px) { #header h2::before { font-size: 1em; margin-top: 0.15rem; } #top-bar, #top-bar a { top: 8.3rem; font-size: 90%; } div#header { height: 123px; } } @media (max-width: 520px) { #header h2::before { line-height: 16px; margin-top: 0.5rem; } #top-bar, #top-bar a { top: 9.3rem; } div#header { height: 145px; } } close Info X SCP-8085 An article set in the Time Perverse by Diogene_s ⚠️ Content warning: This article contains depictions of aphobia and the implication of sexual assault. Proceed at your own risk. ⚠️ content warning There's no fixing what isn't broken. Item #: SCP-8085 Special Containment Procedures: Individuals who report arousal in the presence of desert grassland whiptail lizards are to be detained and interrogated. They are to be amnesticized or disposed of, if deemed necessary. A whiptail lizard immediately after suffering an episode of SCP-8085 for 6 hours. Foundation webcrawler I/O CNEMIDUS must monitor the global population of the desert grassland whiptail lizard for any reports of unusual behavior. Any reports of these or any other asexual animals acting erratically are to be scrubbed and any witnesses are to be amnesticized. Description: SCP-8085 is a phenomenon affecting the Desert Grassland Whiptail Lizard (Aspidocelis uniparens), a species characterized by their all-female population and asexual reproduction. Due to SCP-8085, members of this species will emit vocalizations akin to those of a human once in their lifetime. These vocalizations are incoherent, but have been described as “distressing” and “painful” by witnesses. NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION RECORDS AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION The remainder of this document is redacted with Level 6/8008 clearance. — Maria Jones, Director of RAISA + Click to proceed - close Addendum 8085-1: SCP-8008 was an Enochian anomalous event centered around one SCP-8008-2, a being that altered fundamental aspects of reality through use of extreme ontokinetic manipulation. Due to the following events, SCP-8085 is thought to have been partially affected by SCP-8008. On 06/11/2023, during the routine inspection of the 500,000 corpses found in SCP-8008-A, an unusually large corpse of a desert grassland whiptail lizard was found, designated SCP-8085-α. The yellow lines on its loin spelled the following: vesta.txt. Following this discovery, HANAZONO.AIC flagged a single text file within SCP-8008-C. The contents of vesta.txt indicate that its author wasn't SCP-8008-2 but through the aftereffects of the transtemporal cognito-miasma that followed PROJECT TIMEGELD, it entered its possession. vesta.txt was promptly decrypted and added to the SCP-8085 documentation: He never stops. He never stops. He and everyone else. But especially him. An owl arrived today with a letter from him. In white over white it just said: «Actually, it's not natural. Not natural at all. Because biology doesn't work like that. Sexual reproduction is the primary drive for all animals, and humans, like you and me, like to reproduce sexually. It's quite literally what Freud said. So, not wanting to do it is unnatural. Do you understand what that means? It means that you're either lying, or broken. And I will fix you.» And now I want to tear off my skin. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8085" by Diogene_s, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8085. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: WHIPTAIL,_DESERT_GRASSLAND_(Aspidoscelis_uniparens)_(6-20-09)_cave_creek,_az_-01_(3657715036).jpg Author: ALAN SCHIEMER License: CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:WHIPTAIL,_DESERT_GRASSLAND_(Aspidoscelis_uniparens)_(6-20-09)_cave_creek,_az_-01_(3657715036).jpg |
SCP-8087 | esoteric-class | A Foundation researcher sets off on a journey to locate the legendary Huckmucker once and for all. SCP-8087: The Legend of the Huckmucker Word Count: 5.1k Reading Time: 19 minutes ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION RECORDS AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION Due to the events of July 8, 2014, the following document is considered outdated and is currently being rewritten. Item #: SCP-8087 Level 4/8087 Classified Sagrario National Park, the locus of SCP-8087. Assigned Site Site Director Research Head Assigned Task Force Site-48 Linda Lutz Simon Naque O-24 "Brave New World" Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8087 is currently located within Sagrario National Park, which has been closed to the public under the pretense of a budgetary shutdown. Mobile Task Force Omicron-24 ("Brave New World") is responsible for investigation and detainment of the anomaly. Following successful capture, it is to be transported to a specially prepared animal chamber in Site-48. Foundation agents are to dispel civilian rumors regarding the existence of SCP-8087 through standard media conditioning. SCP-8087-1 is contained within Site-48's morgue for study and preservation. Description: SCP-8087 is an animal known colloquially as the "Huckmucker", located within Sagrario National Park, California, USA. Its physiology and appearance have been described as bipedal and possessing four arms, dark green fur, and sharp claws. Its existence was considered a local legend for an undetermined amount of time; whether SCP-8087 exists on its own, or multiple instances exist concurrently, is uncertain. SCP-8087-1 designates SCP-8087's only confirmed victim: an adult male named Carl Leese; 47 years old at the time of death. Aside from their method of death, SCP-8087-1 is physically non-anomalous, and did not display anomalous properties during their time alive. Addendum 01: On June 13, 2014, SCP-8087-1's corpse was discovered by a hiker, who reported it to the Los Cerdos County Sheriff's Department. Rumors spread amongst the population due to the brutality of SCP-8087-1's death, with many attributing it to SCP-8087. Foundation Site-48 dispatched Mobile Task Force Omicron-24 to Sagrario National Park for initial investigation. Interviews were conducted with the Los Cerdos County Sheriff's Department and the civilian population regarding SCP-8087. Transcript 8087-1 Interviewer: Lead Researcher Simon Naque Interviewed: Witness Natalie Jimenez Date: June 15, 2014 <Begin Log> Jimenez is seated opposite of Researcher Naque in the makeshift interrogation chamber. Naque: Ms. Jimenez, I need to ask you some questions about the… um… circumstances of- Jimenez begins to cough repeatedly. Naque: You don't have to describe the state of the body, I just need the details about what you were doing before and after your discovery. Jimenez: Do I… <coughs> do I really have to? I already made a statement to the police. Naque: Um… unfortunately, our investigation needs a few more details regarding… what you saw right before and after you… looked at the… Jimenez quivers as she continues to cough and gag. Naque: Firstly… did you hear anything before discovering the body? Jimenez: Um… I was… walking down Sunrunner Trail at around… I think it was between 10:15 and 10:30 pm… Naque: How come you were hiking outside so late? Jimenez: What does that have to with… with the… Naque: I haven't met anyone who'd hike by themselves so late at night. Jimenez: I just wanted to see the night sky, without all the light pollution. I brought a flashlight with me. Naque: I understand. Please continue your testimony. Jimenez: Well, around that time was when I heard faint screaming. I thought maybe it was a hyena at first, but… Naque: At that point, you travelled towards the source of the noise, correct? Jimenez: Yes… I should've ran away, but I didn't. Morbid curiosity, maybe? Naque: Did you see the figures of any sort of animal before you reached the body? Jimenez shakes her head "no". Naque: Hmm… what about afterwards? Jimenez: Oh, I think… <gags> I think I saw a shadow of… I'm not sure, but it was after I- Jimenez coughs violently as Researcher Naque hands her a vomit bag. She proceeds to utilize it. Naque: Ms. Jimenez, I understand that this is very difficult, but I need you to please hang in there for one more minute. Can you remember what the shadow looked like? Jimenez: Fucking- why the fuck does this matter so much to you? Naque: Um… well… it's important to our investigation into the victim's death, to determine a cause of- Jimenez: It was standing. The shadow was standing. That's all I remember. Naque: You weren't able to shine your flashlight on the shadowed figure? Jimenez: I tried, but… it was too far away at that point, and it scampered off just as quickly. Jimenez continues to cough and gag into the bag. Naque: Thank you so much for your testimony, Ms. Jimenez. I promise it will not be in vain. <End Log> Transcript 8087-2 Interviewer: Lead Researcher Simon Naque Interviewed: LCCSD Lieutenant Brian Happ Date: June 15, 2014 <Begin Log> Researcher Naque approaches Lieutenant Happ, who is leaning on his police cruiser while adjusting a teal ribbon pin on his uniform. Naque: Officer Happ? You wanted to give some insight into the death of Mr. Leese? Happ: That's Lieutenant Happ, and yes, as unfortunate as it is, I believe that man was murdered by the Huckmucker that haunts Sagrario National Park. Naque: I'm sorry, the Hug… Hugfug… Happ: Huckmucker, it's a local legend around here. I've always put my faith in it, which's why I never go out into the forest at night. Naque: It only comes out at night? Happ: Yep, never during the day. That's how I've heard it ever since my Boy Scout counselor told me the legend as a campfire story, thirty years ago. Naque: I see. Is there a consensus on what this creature looks like? Happ: I've heard a lot of rumors, like that it's got moss-like fur and six limbs; two legs, four arms. Oh, and sharp claws that can tear a deer apart clean in two. Many of the townsfolk have gotten glimpses of it over the years, but it's always just a little too quick to photograph. Naque: What about its face? Lieutenant Happ shrugs his shoulders. Happ: Not quite sure. Again, it's too quick to take a good gander at. Naque: Hmm… one last question: How can you tell it was this cryptid creature, and not, say, a bear? Happ: Well… his body, as far as I've seen, it was… gruesomely destroyed. Devastated, even. I have seen bear maulings before, and while tragic, they don't compare at all to the damage the Huckmucker did to… could you remind me of his name? Naque: The victim? It's "Carl Leese". Lieutenant Happ nods his head. Happ: What a shame. Naque: How much do you know about Mr. Leese? Happ: Not that much, although it's still tragic what happened to him. Lieutenant Happ takes out a photograph of him with a woman, proceeding to stare at it. Happ: But life goes on, you know? Can't dwell too much on the dead, they can't think of you in return. Naque: Sure, but I don't see how that's relevant to- Happ: It's just advice I thought I'd share with you, something I learned too late. Naque: I see… I need to get going, thank you for your time. Happ: Likewise, Mister…? Naque: It's Simon. Happ: Don't let that Huckmucker catch you, Simon! Researcher Naque turns around and walks towards his Foundation-issued vehicle. Lieutenant Happ continues to stare at the photograph. Happ: Nancy… <End Log> Transcript 8087-3 Interviewer: Lead Researcher Simon Naque Interviewed: Norbert Ortiz Date: June 15, 2014 <Begin Log> Researcher Naque approaches Ortiz at a Reinhardt shooting range; the latter is cleaning his hunting rifle. Naque: Excuse me, you're Mr. Ortiz, right? I've heard you have some insight into the local Huckmucker? Ortiz: Oh yeah… of course. What'd you like to know? Naque: Firstly, where would you say would be the area the Huckmucker lives in? Could you give an estimate? Ortiz: Um… I know for sure it lives in the Sagrario forest. Naque: Could you narrow it down for me? Ortiz: I'd say the most sightings occur in the area… upstream of Hostie Falls, that's east of here. The Huckmucker runs pretty fast, faster than a human can, and it likes to hide against trees as a disguise mechanism, like… um… Naque: Camouflage? Ortiz: Basically, yeah. It's also nocturnal as well; I've spent many nights hiding in makeshift bushes, waiting for the Huckmucker to cross my path. A few of the homeowners who live around the forest even set up traps in their backyards; they were these pits in the ground that were covered with leaves and grass for the Huckmucker to fall into. They never managed to catch it, except for this one time a lost hiker fell into one of these traps. They sued the homeowner, and the traps disappeared after that. Regardless, I tried to- Naque: Sir, as much as I'd like to chat, I'm a bit rushed for time. Do you have any ideas regarding the creature's diet? Ortiz: Oh, I've tried everything to lure the Huckmucker into shooting position. Roast chicken, mutton, beef, eggplants, used truck tires, sugar cookies. I thought that perhaps it wants human-like flesh, so I've tried all sorts of pork products as well. Nothing happened except for my wife getting mad at me for "wasting food". Naque: While we're on the topic, I'm sure you've heard of the death of Mr. Carl Leese? Ortiz: "Carl Leese"? Christ… Naque: How much did you know about Mr. Leese? Ortiz: I met Carl about a year ago, he bought a brand new custom-built vacation home with his Big Pharma money, had a fancy new Blaser rifle with a leather grip that he'd wave around and show off to everyone. Terrible trigger discipline, too. No matter how many times we'd tell him to keep his rifle pointed away from other people, he'd still- Naque: To summarize, he wasn't well liked? Ortiz: I swear, this entire town's slowly being taken over by corporate bigwigs who see it as some sort of "escape from the big city", meanwhile, they buy up all our houses and rent them either back out to us, or to their other office cronies! At least Edward's pizzeria's making bank, he's charging them double for "gluten-free pizza", and they buy it all up. Naque: Sir, to get back to my point, I wanted to mention that Mr. Leese's body was found near the Sunrunner hiking trail, which is- Ortiz: What? He- he's not- he wasn't supposed to be hunting over there, that's where the hikers are. We specifically told him not to hunt in that area! Christ, was he really- was he really hunting over there? Naque: I bring this up because the location of death was downstream of Hostie Falls, and not the search area you were specifying. Ortiz: Well… I've heard of sightings there too, and as I've said, you're not allowed to hunt in that area. Silence. Ortiz: Fucker was hunting near hiking trails… he got what he deserved. Naque: I wouldn't say that, Mr. Ortiz. No matter their background, no one deserves to die in such a cruel way. Ortiz: I'm sorry, but you clearly don't understand how rich people like Carl are changing this town for the- Naque: Do you have any more information about the Huckmucker, Mr. Ortiz? Ortiz shrugs his shoulders. Ortiz: Not at the moment, no. Naque: I must get going, then. Farewell. <End Log> Following these interviews, MTF Omicron-24 initiated standard research and containment attempts regarding SCP-8087. Addendum 02: Over the coming weeks, Omicrom-24 personnel accumulated the following data regarding their research into SCP-8087. SCP-8087-1 prior to their death. INVESTIGATION REPORT 8087-1 Author: Lead Researcher Simon Naque To summarize Dr. Yvette Brumm's autopsy report, Carl Leese's1 date of death is estimated to be June 13, 2014 by acute blood loss. Leese's place of death is about twenty meters from the Sunrunner hiking trail; his torso was resting against a tree, the body having been torn into two with his legs scattered haphazardly on the ground. Many of his organs had been spilled, covered in soil from the messy dismemberment, preventing Dr. Brumm from determining any DNA on the corpse that wasn't Leese's. A total of 32 lacerations were found, 14 of them over his face; their quality indicated that a sharp edge was involved. I absolutely pity the hiker who found him like that, we administered amnestics to her for that reason. I took a look into Leese's background. He purchased a vacation house in Reinhardt, California in 2013 after receiving a five million dollar bonus from the Unity Healthcare Group, of which he was a member of their board of directors. SCP-8087-1's vehicle. On the night of Leese's death, security footage of his vacation home shows him leaving the property in his SUV at around 9pm. We eventually recovered his black 2006 Cadillac Escalade, it was parked on the side of Highway 499, approximately half a kilometer from his place of discovery. We found a Blaser R8 bolt action rifle in the back, as well as ammunition and a flyer for a casino that was a 30 minute drive from Reinhardt. Why he'd go out hunting at 9pm, and why he left his gun in his vehicle is not known to me. Due to the time of Leese's killing and the lack of other reported SCP-8087 killings, I'm starting to suspect that SCP-8087 follows a unique hibernation schedule, or more disturbingly, it's killed other victims whose carcasses haven't been discovered yet. This would explain why it's taken so long for one of its victims to have been found, and mostly through pure chance that someone happened to be passing by. I've arranged for investigation into missing persons reports in Los Cerdos County to determine if any of them would be potential SCP-8087 victims. Containment Attempt 8087-1 Method: A Deer College zoologist2 was transported to the search area and tasked with aiding in the search for SCP-8087. Result: Following field research and discussion, the zoologist suggested the following: SCP-8087 is a possible herbivore, only attacking animals when threatened, never consuming them. SCP-8087 may be sensitive to light, explaining its nocturnal nature and its aversion to attacking the hiker who discovered SCP-8087-1. SCP-8087 may be capable of running on all six limbs, demonstrating an evolutionarily anomalous, but technically physically non-anomalous running dexterity, resulting in increased speed. Following their research, the zoologist was transferred back into Foundation custody. Containment Attempt 8087-2 Method: Multiple anomalous canines possessing advanced olfactory capabilities were brought into the search area to assist in the investigation. The canines were previously stored at Wilson's Wildlife Solutions. Result: The canines located a human skeleton hidden in dense shrubbery next to a cliffside. DNA testing of the bones identified the skeleton as that of an adult woman reported missing in 1985. Following further investigation, the cause of death was determined to have been a fatal neck injury caused by falling from the adjacent cliff, and not due to SCP-8087. The woman's family was notified of the discovery through a Foundation front charity; the remains were cremated per their wishes. The canines additionally located a number of animal carcasses; all were determined to have been victims of non-anomalous causes (starvation, fungal infection, etc.) and not SCP-8087. Containment Attempt 8087-3 Method: Omicron-24 personnel would install a series of separate Hume detecting devices 1.5 kilometers apart from one another, covering the entire area of Sagrario National Park, to determine the approximate location of SCP-8087 at all times. All Hume detecting devices were equipped with security cameras to record footage. Result: Installation of all devices required eight days. No abnormal Hume readings have been detected since, and no video evidence of SCP-8087 was ascertained. Addendum 03: Standard investigation into SCP-8087 was halted on July 4, 2014 by the Lead Researcher due to the following email exchange. To: pcs.84etis|euqannomis#pcs.84etis|euqannomis From: pcs.42norcimo|allivessivart#pcs.42norcimo|allivessivart Subject: SCP-8087 isn't real Dear Dr. Naque, My team and I have been talking about this for a few days now, we've tried every single method we've got. The only thing left is that experimental thaumaturgic device that we still haven't gotten approval to have shipped to our outpost for use. My team is absolutely demoralized at this point from the lack of progress. We've never been this slow at making any sort of discovery, and the constant all-night searches are messing with our health. Are you sure the residents of Reinhardt aren't making this thing up? I mean, a wealthy pharmaceutical executive dies in the forest and the locals blame it on a cryptid, and not, say, a bear. There must be an ulterior reason for that. Sincerely, Travis Sevilla Omicron-24 Team Captain To: pcs.42norcimo|allivessivart#pcs.42norcimo|allivessivart From: pcs.84etis|euqannomis#pcs.84etis|euqannomis Subject: Re:SCP-8087 isn't real Travis, There are many such anomalies known to the Foundation that are "difficult to catch". Yet, when left alone, they continue to terrorize innocent people, cutting lives short. Should we let innocent civilians die to dangerous anomalies in gruesome manners, when we could have them contained safely in our facilities? I remember reading about such an anomaly in the Foundation newsletter a couple months ago. It was a clan of sauropod dinosaurs hidden in Africa, hidden from the rest of the world. It's evaded capture for decades, yet they're still being hunted down by our colleagues stationed in that region. The Foundation does not give up that easily in our fight against the unknown. We search continuously, we persevere against that which refuses to come into the light. I don't believe in just giving up so easily when the going gets tough, and I hope you can come around to agreeing with me. Plus, you and your team are all getting hazard pay by working nights. That's not something I would personally complain about. Researcher Simon Naque, Site-48 To: pcs.84etis|euqannomis#pcs.84etis|euqannomis From: pcs.42norcimo|allivessivart#pcs.42norcimo|allivessivart Subject: Re:SCP-8087 isn't real Dear Dr. Naque, About those African sauropods, the newsletter specifically talked about how they've given up on finding them because they were a myth made up by the locals for tourism purposes, and designated as "Explained". I get you want to be known for capturing a weird freak of nature, but there are still reasons for legends to spread. Maybe, as the newsletter mentioned, it's to increase tourism. Perhaps it's to hide some sort of shameful event, whether done through anomalous means or not. Or it could be the result of a mass delusion, the cause of which is a different anomaly altogether. I only request that you consider alternative explanations regarding SCP-8087, so we're not stuck in a decades-long goose chase. Sincerely, Travis Sevilla Omicron-24 Team Captain To: pcs.42norcimo|allivessivart#pcs.42norcimo|allivessivart From: pcs.84etis|euqannomis#pcs.84etis|euqannomis Subject: Re:SCP-8087 isn't real Travis, I'll look into the suggestion by contacting the more outspoken civilians for further interrogation. Meanwhile, when we get approved to use that thaumaturgic device, you have my permission to set it up without me. We're going to find the truth behind SCP-8087 one way or another. Researcher Simon Naque, Site-48 Following this exchange, Researcher Naque reinitiated interviews with Reinhardt residents in an attempt to seek a potential suspect in the event that SCP-8087-1's death was not due to SCP-8087. Transcript 8087-4 Interviewer: Lead Researcher Naque Interviewed: Norbert Ortiz Date: July 5, 2014 <Begin Log> Ortiz is seated with a drink at a local bar. Researcher Naque approaches and sits next to him. Naque: Mr. Ortiz. Ortiz: Hmm? Oh, it's you again… I never got your name… Naque: It's Simon. We've been struggling with finding this "Huckmucker" for a few weeks now. Ortiz: Try thirty years, that's how long I've been looking. Naque: We have a bit of suspicion that it, um… might not be real? Ortiz stares at Researcher Naque with a look of confusion. Ortiz: You're gonna give up that easily? You've only looked for two weeks and quit, and now you're gonna tell me it's not real? Naque: Yes, but my team has a lot of scientific tools and resources, so if we still can't find it, that can only mean one thing… Ortiz shrugs his shoulders. Ortiz: I'm not sure what to tell you, Simon. Ortiz takes a sip of his drink as Researcher Naque ponders to himself. Naque: Now that I think of it, I'm curious about your relationship with Mr. Leese prior to his death. How much did you know about his background? Ortiz: Why does that matter to your search? Naque: Mr. Ortiz, answer the question, please. Ortiz takes a sigh. Ortiz: I initially thought Carl worked in Hollywood, and my daughter wanted to be a movie star, so… I tried to befriend him for that industry connection, if you know what I mean. Naque: Hold on, he wasn't- Ortiz: I know he worked for Big Pharma, I found that out later. My daughter also has Reynaud's disease, so I thought he could… cut me a deal on her meds later down the line, I guess? Naque: You wanted to befriend him for the potential benefits? Ortiz: I tried to, but he kept getting on everyone's nerves. As I've said before, no trigger discipline, walked around like he owned the place, he- Ortiz gasps. Ortiz: Wait, are you- are you accusing me of murdering Carl? Is that what this is about? Naque: What? No no no, Of course not! That never crossed my mind. Again, my suspicion was that the- Ortiz: Well, I would never kill anyone! Genuinely, why would you assume there's a murderer on the loose just because you can't find the Huckmucker with all your fancy science tools? Naque: I'm just willing to explore alternative reasons, especially since a considerable amount of people in this town keeps insisting in this creature's existence. Ortiz: See? I'm not- I'm not alone in that! Naque: Come to think of it, who was the first person to insist on this creature's responsibility in Leese's death? Ortiz: Well… um… Naque: What is it? Ortiz: I do remember the sheriff… he was the first to suggest that the Huckmucker killed Carl, the morning after he died. Not bullshitting you on that, I swear to Christ. Naque: What was this sheriff's name? Ortiz: It was… Happ. Sheriff Happ, I think. Naque: Lieutenant Happ? Ortiz: Was he a lieutenant? He worked for the Sheriff's Department, that's what I know for sure. Researcher Naque stands up from his seat. Naque: Thank you so much for this info, Mr. Ortiz. I need to get going. Ortiz: Alright then. Good luck, Simon. Researcher Naque exits the bar. <End Log> Following this interview, Omicron-24 personnel performed a raid on LCCSD Lieutenant Brian Happ's apartment residence, discovering that it had been abandoned by Happ. Site-48 was notified of his disappearance, and Foundation operatives across the western United States were tasked with his rediscovery. Addendum 04: On July 7, 2014, Lieutenant Happ was discovered attempting to enter Mexico. He was detained by Foundation agents within US Customs and Border Protection, and transported to Site-48 for interrogation. Transcript 8087-5 Interviewer: Lead Researcher Naque Interviewed: LCCSD Lieutenant Happ Date: July 8, 2014 <Begin Log> Lieutenant Happ is restrained in his chair as Researcher Naque enters the interrogation chamber. Happ: Simon. Naque: Lieutenant Happ, we've got a few more questions for you regarding this "Huckmucker". Lieutenant Happ begins to breathe heavily. Happ: What the- what the fuck is- Is that why you kidnapped me at the Mexican border? Actually, who are you people anyway? FBI? CIA? Drug Cartel? Naque: There are a few details about the Huckmucker case that don't line up, and since you're the authority figure who keeps claiming that Mr. Leese was murdered by this cryptid creature, we thought we'd ask you for more details. Happ: Cause- cause it was the Huckmucker! Who else could it've been? Naque: That's what I'm trying to figure out, sir. Happ: I told you, I told you it was the Huckmucker! Why- why don't you believe me? Naque: We've spent weeks looking for this thing, and nothing's come up. Over a dozen people are scouring Sagrario National Park every single night for this creature. Nothing. Now we're starting to call bluff on this creature's existence, that's why we're asking around again. Happ: This isn't "asking around", this is kidnapping! Actually- I wanna see your badge! Who do you work for? Naque: No one else we've asked has been of any help, and again, you're the one- Happ: I'm sorry, there's other people in your custody? Like, people of Reinhardt? Naque: Well… Happ: Who the hell are you to detain the people of Reinhardt over the Huckmucker killing someone? Naque: Sir, that's not relevant to this discussion. Happ: Whoever they are, they're completely innocent. I- um… Naque: Innocent of what? Lieutenant Happ stares at Researcher Naque in silence. Naque: Sir? More silence. Happ: My wife… her name was Nancy. We tied the knot about eleven years ago. Naque: Um… what does this have to do with- Happ: Let me finish. So all's well, right? Until… she started to complain about pain in her abdomen. I thought, like all men do, that it was just a really bad period. Menopause, even. She was around that age at the time. But she kept insisting that she see the doctor, so I took her there. Doctor told her that she was just being anxious and sent her home. Naque: I still fail to see how- Happ: I said let me finish! Anyway, she kept complaining about the pain to the point that she couldn't get out of bed, so I found a different doctor, a lady, and took Nancy there instead. This doctor wanted to check for "the big C", as she called it. But to do that, we'd have to get my health insurance to approve the tests. Naque: And then? Happ: We got health insurance through my position with the Los Cerdos Sheriff, the company's called Unity Healthcare. So the doctor, the second one, she submits the paperwork, right? But the bastard health insurance says no! Researcher Naque nods his head. Happ: So I file an appeal on my wife's behalf, and I find out that they think it's not "medically necessary"! Never mind the fact that she's crying from the pain non-stop, they just fuckin' said "no", and they said "no" again! At that point, I decided to pay for the tests out of my own pocket. I dipped into my retirement fund and sold my truck, then got them done. Naque: What did the tests say? A short pause. Happ: Ovarian cancer. Lieutenant Happ begins to sob. Happ: It'd already spread… the doctor referred us to a specialist to set up a treatment plan, but then… then I had to deal with that fucking health insurance again! Happ: And- and you know what- you know what they said? They said I violated their policy by paying for the tests out of pocket! They said "no" again! Lieutenant Happ coughs on his tears. Happ: Once we finally reached the treatment stage, we found out each chemotherapy injection costs $11,000. Eleven thousand dollars! I ended up remortgaging my house to pay for it all. I couldn't risk fighting against the insurance company when her cancer was so widespread. Silence. Happ: January 5th. I pulled the plug. She was… I didn't want to see her suffer anymore. Lieutenant Happ takes a sigh. Happ: Didn't go to work for months after that… my house got foreclosed on. Not that it mattered, I had no one to share it with. Another silence. Naque: Come to think of it, Mr. Leese work for Unity Health- Happ: Not just "worked for"- he was- he was a fucking executive! A one-percenter corporate pig motherfucker! He- he exploited hard-working Americans like me and my wife! It's his fault she's dead! It's all his fault! Researcher Naque stares down at Lieutenant Happ. Naque: You killed Mr. Leese and blamed it on that creature, didn't you? Lieutenant Happ does not respond. Naque: You probably tracked him down, pulled him over in your police car, and dragged him into the woods to kill him. Is that correct? Happ: Don't… don't put it like that. Naque: Is that not what happened? Happ: Was I supposed to let that man get away with everything? Naque: Mr. Leese didn't kill your wife, her cancer did. Happ: I fucking told you, he's complicit in her death! He made Unity Healthcare the stingy bastards they are! If they'd approved her tests the first time, the cancer wouldn't have spread as far, she would've had a much better chance at survival, and she'd probably be cancer-free by now. A short pause. Happ: I'd still be happy, and she'd still be alive. Lieutenant Happ coughs uncontrollably. Happ: I've got nothing left. I've got no one left. I… I was gonna go to Mexico, as you know, but… now that I think about it… Naque: You lacked a plan on what to do once you got there? Lieutenant Happ nods his head "yes". Researcher Naque sighs in anguish. Naque: You had me and my team go on this wild goose chase for nothing. Happ: Was I supposed to- Naque: Just- I was so excited find this creature, this "Huckmucker". My team spent over two weeks searching for this animal whose existence you made up. Happ: I had no way of knowing that your team would show up all gung ho about it. I thought it'd be forgotten after enough time had passed. Researcher Naque sighs again. Naque: Come to think of it, one last question: What was the murder weapon you used to kill Mr. Leese? Happ: It was… an axe. I threw it in the lake under Hostie Falls. Naque: That's all I need to hear. Researcher Naque exits the interrogation chamber, leaving Lieutenant Happ alone in the room. Lieutenant Happ bows his head down and continues to sob. <End Log> Following interrogation, Lieutenant Happ was transferred to civilian authorities, who formally arrested and charged him with first degree murder. A small-scale disinformation campaign has been established for the duration of time required to transfer the necessary files to said authorities. Investigation into SCP-8087 has concluded, and MTF Omicron-24 has been rescinded from the area. Reclassification to Explained is pending. Footnotes 1. This report was written prior to the assignment of the SCP-8087-1 designation, and has been preserved as-is for posterity. 2. The zoologist in question was placed into Foundation custody in relation to an unrelated phenomenon, and was offered clemency in exchange for assistance regarding SCP-8087 research. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8087" by Jiwoahn, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8087. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Redwood Forest Cropped.jpg Name: Rockefeller Forest Sequoia sempervirens Author: Jason Sturner License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Additional Notes: Cropped from original Filename: huckiemuckie.jpg Name: Huckmucker Sketch by Ortiz Author: Jiwoahn License: CC-BY-SA-3.0 Source Link: Name: Gordon Copeland (New Zealand politician) Author: The Kiwi Party License: CC-BY-SA-3.0 DEED Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Name: GMT800-Cadillac-Escalade-ESV Author: IFCAR License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-8087 | uncontained | A Foundation researcher sets off on a journey to locate the legendary Huckmucker once and for all. SCP-8087: The Legend of the Huckmucker Word Count: 5.1k Reading Time: 19 minutes ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION RECORDS AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION Due to the events of July 8, 2014, the following document is considered outdated and is currently being rewritten. Item #: SCP-8087 Level 4/8087 Classified Sagrario National Park, the locus of SCP-8087. Assigned Site Site Director Research Head Assigned Task Force Site-48 Linda Lutz Simon Naque O-24 "Brave New World" Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8087 is currently located within Sagrario National Park, which has been closed to the public under the pretense of a budgetary shutdown. Mobile Task Force Omicron-24 ("Brave New World") is responsible for investigation and detainment of the anomaly. Following successful capture, it is to be transported to a specially prepared animal chamber in Site-48. Foundation agents are to dispel civilian rumors regarding the existence of SCP-8087 through standard media conditioning. SCP-8087-1 is contained within Site-48's morgue for study and preservation. Description: SCP-8087 is an animal known colloquially as the "Huckmucker", located within Sagrario National Park, California, USA. Its physiology and appearance have been described as bipedal and possessing four arms, dark green fur, and sharp claws. Its existence was considered a local legend for an undetermined amount of time; whether SCP-8087 exists on its own, or multiple instances exist concurrently, is uncertain. SCP-8087-1 designates SCP-8087's only confirmed victim: an adult male named Carl Leese; 47 years old at the time of death. Aside from their method of death, SCP-8087-1 is physically non-anomalous, and did not display anomalous properties during their time alive. Addendum 01: On June 13, 2014, SCP-8087-1's corpse was discovered by a hiker, who reported it to the Los Cerdos County Sheriff's Department. Rumors spread amongst the population due to the brutality of SCP-8087-1's death, with many attributing it to SCP-8087. Foundation Site-48 dispatched Mobile Task Force Omicron-24 to Sagrario National Park for initial investigation. Interviews were conducted with the Los Cerdos County Sheriff's Department and the civilian population regarding SCP-8087. Transcript 8087-1 Interviewer: Lead Researcher Simon Naque Interviewed: Witness Natalie Jimenez Date: June 15, 2014 <Begin Log> Jimenez is seated opposite of Researcher Naque in the makeshift interrogation chamber. Naque: Ms. Jimenez, I need to ask you some questions about the… um… circumstances of- Jimenez begins to cough repeatedly. Naque: You don't have to describe the state of the body, I just need the details about what you were doing before and after your discovery. Jimenez: Do I… <coughs> do I really have to? I already made a statement to the police. Naque: Um… unfortunately, our investigation needs a few more details regarding… what you saw right before and after you… looked at the… Jimenez quivers as she continues to cough and gag. Naque: Firstly… did you hear anything before discovering the body? Jimenez: Um… I was… walking down Sunrunner Trail at around… I think it was between 10:15 and 10:30 pm… Naque: How come you were hiking outside so late? Jimenez: What does that have to with… with the… Naque: I haven't met anyone who'd hike by themselves so late at night. Jimenez: I just wanted to see the night sky, without all the light pollution. I brought a flashlight with me. Naque: I understand. Please continue your testimony. Jimenez: Well, around that time was when I heard faint screaming. I thought maybe it was a hyena at first, but… Naque: At that point, you travelled towards the source of the noise, correct? Jimenez: Yes… I should've ran away, but I didn't. Morbid curiosity, maybe? Naque: Did you see the figures of any sort of animal before you reached the body? Jimenez shakes her head "no". Naque: Hmm… what about afterwards? Jimenez: Oh, I think… <gags> I think I saw a shadow of… I'm not sure, but it was after I- Jimenez coughs violently as Researcher Naque hands her a vomit bag. She proceeds to utilize it. Naque: Ms. Jimenez, I understand that this is very difficult, but I need you to please hang in there for one more minute. Can you remember what the shadow looked like? Jimenez: Fucking- why the fuck does this matter so much to you? Naque: Um… well… it's important to our investigation into the victim's death, to determine a cause of- Jimenez: It was standing. The shadow was standing. That's all I remember. Naque: You weren't able to shine your flashlight on the shadowed figure? Jimenez: I tried, but… it was too far away at that point, and it scampered off just as quickly. Jimenez continues to cough and gag into the bag. Naque: Thank you so much for your testimony, Ms. Jimenez. I promise it will not be in vain. <End Log> Transcript 8087-2 Interviewer: Lead Researcher Simon Naque Interviewed: LCCSD Lieutenant Brian Happ Date: June 15, 2014 <Begin Log> Researcher Naque approaches Lieutenant Happ, who is leaning on his police cruiser while adjusting a teal ribbon pin on his uniform. Naque: Officer Happ? You wanted to give some insight into the death of Mr. Leese? Happ: That's Lieutenant Happ, and yes, as unfortunate as it is, I believe that man was murdered by the Huckmucker that haunts Sagrario National Park. Naque: I'm sorry, the Hug… Hugfug… Happ: Huckmucker, it's a local legend around here. I've always put my faith in it, which's why I never go out into the forest at night. Naque: It only comes out at night? Happ: Yep, never during the day. That's how I've heard it ever since my Boy Scout counselor told me the legend as a campfire story, thirty years ago. Naque: I see. Is there a consensus on what this creature looks like? Happ: I've heard a lot of rumors, like that it's got moss-like fur and six limbs; two legs, four arms. Oh, and sharp claws that can tear a deer apart clean in two. Many of the townsfolk have gotten glimpses of it over the years, but it's always just a little too quick to photograph. Naque: What about its face? Lieutenant Happ shrugs his shoulders. Happ: Not quite sure. Again, it's too quick to take a good gander at. Naque: Hmm… one last question: How can you tell it was this cryptid creature, and not, say, a bear? Happ: Well… his body, as far as I've seen, it was… gruesomely destroyed. Devastated, even. I have seen bear maulings before, and while tragic, they don't compare at all to the damage the Huckmucker did to… could you remind me of his name? Naque: The victim? It's "Carl Leese". Lieutenant Happ nods his head. Happ: What a shame. Naque: How much do you know about Mr. Leese? Happ: Not that much, although it's still tragic what happened to him. Lieutenant Happ takes out a photograph of him with a woman, proceeding to stare at it. Happ: But life goes on, you know? Can't dwell too much on the dead, they can't think of you in return. Naque: Sure, but I don't see how that's relevant to- Happ: It's just advice I thought I'd share with you, something I learned too late. Naque: I see… I need to get going, thank you for your time. Happ: Likewise, Mister…? Naque: It's Simon. Happ: Don't let that Huckmucker catch you, Simon! Researcher Naque turns around and walks towards his Foundation-issued vehicle. Lieutenant Happ continues to stare at the photograph. Happ: Nancy… <End Log> Transcript 8087-3 Interviewer: Lead Researcher Simon Naque Interviewed: Norbert Ortiz Date: June 15, 2014 <Begin Log> Researcher Naque approaches Ortiz at a Reinhardt shooting range; the latter is cleaning his hunting rifle. Naque: Excuse me, you're Mr. Ortiz, right? I've heard you have some insight into the local Huckmucker? Ortiz: Oh yeah… of course. What'd you like to know? Naque: Firstly, where would you say would be the area the Huckmucker lives in? Could you give an estimate? Ortiz: Um… I know for sure it lives in the Sagrario forest. Naque: Could you narrow it down for me? Ortiz: I'd say the most sightings occur in the area… upstream of Hostie Falls, that's east of here. The Huckmucker runs pretty fast, faster than a human can, and it likes to hide against trees as a disguise mechanism, like… um… Naque: Camouflage? Ortiz: Basically, yeah. It's also nocturnal as well; I've spent many nights hiding in makeshift bushes, waiting for the Huckmucker to cross my path. A few of the homeowners who live around the forest even set up traps in their backyards; they were these pits in the ground that were covered with leaves and grass for the Huckmucker to fall into. They never managed to catch it, except for this one time a lost hiker fell into one of these traps. They sued the homeowner, and the traps disappeared after that. Regardless, I tried to- Naque: Sir, as much as I'd like to chat, I'm a bit rushed for time. Do you have any ideas regarding the creature's diet? Ortiz: Oh, I've tried everything to lure the Huckmucker into shooting position. Roast chicken, mutton, beef, eggplants, used truck tires, sugar cookies. I thought that perhaps it wants human-like flesh, so I've tried all sorts of pork products as well. Nothing happened except for my wife getting mad at me for "wasting food". Naque: While we're on the topic, I'm sure you've heard of the death of Mr. Carl Leese? Ortiz: "Carl Leese"? Christ… Naque: How much did you know about Mr. Leese? Ortiz: I met Carl about a year ago, he bought a brand new custom-built vacation home with his Big Pharma money, had a fancy new Blaser rifle with a leather grip that he'd wave around and show off to everyone. Terrible trigger discipline, too. No matter how many times we'd tell him to keep his rifle pointed away from other people, he'd still- Naque: To summarize, he wasn't well liked? Ortiz: I swear, this entire town's slowly being taken over by corporate bigwigs who see it as some sort of "escape from the big city", meanwhile, they buy up all our houses and rent them either back out to us, or to their other office cronies! At least Edward's pizzeria's making bank, he's charging them double for "gluten-free pizza", and they buy it all up. Naque: Sir, to get back to my point, I wanted to mention that Mr. Leese's body was found near the Sunrunner hiking trail, which is- Ortiz: What? He- he's not- he wasn't supposed to be hunting over there, that's where the hikers are. We specifically told him not to hunt in that area! Christ, was he really- was he really hunting over there? Naque: I bring this up because the location of death was downstream of Hostie Falls, and not the search area you were specifying. Ortiz: Well… I've heard of sightings there too, and as I've said, you're not allowed to hunt in that area. Silence. Ortiz: Fucker was hunting near hiking trails… he got what he deserved. Naque: I wouldn't say that, Mr. Ortiz. No matter their background, no one deserves to die in such a cruel way. Ortiz: I'm sorry, but you clearly don't understand how rich people like Carl are changing this town for the- Naque: Do you have any more information about the Huckmucker, Mr. Ortiz? Ortiz shrugs his shoulders. Ortiz: Not at the moment, no. Naque: I must get going, then. Farewell. <End Log> Following these interviews, MTF Omicron-24 initiated standard research and containment attempts regarding SCP-8087. Addendum 02: Over the coming weeks, Omicrom-24 personnel accumulated the following data regarding their research into SCP-8087. SCP-8087-1 prior to their death. INVESTIGATION REPORT 8087-1 Author: Lead Researcher Simon Naque To summarize Dr. Yvette Brumm's autopsy report, Carl Leese's1 date of death is estimated to be June 13, 2014 by acute blood loss. Leese's place of death is about twenty meters from the Sunrunner hiking trail; his torso was resting against a tree, the body having been torn into two with his legs scattered haphazardly on the ground. Many of his organs had been spilled, covered in soil from the messy dismemberment, preventing Dr. Brumm from determining any DNA on the corpse that wasn't Leese's. A total of 32 lacerations were found, 14 of them over his face; their quality indicated that a sharp edge was involved. I absolutely pity the hiker who found him like that, we administered amnestics to her for that reason. I took a look into Leese's background. He purchased a vacation house in Reinhardt, California in 2013 after receiving a five million dollar bonus from the Unity Healthcare Group, of which he was a member of their board of directors. SCP-8087-1's vehicle. On the night of Leese's death, security footage of his vacation home shows him leaving the property in his SUV at around 9pm. We eventually recovered his black 2006 Cadillac Escalade, it was parked on the side of Highway 499, approximately half a kilometer from his place of discovery. We found a Blaser R8 bolt action rifle in the back, as well as ammunition and a flyer for a casino that was a 30 minute drive from Reinhardt. Why he'd go out hunting at 9pm, and why he left his gun in his vehicle is not known to me. Due to the time of Leese's killing and the lack of other reported SCP-8087 killings, I'm starting to suspect that SCP-8087 follows a unique hibernation schedule, or more disturbingly, it's killed other victims whose carcasses haven't been discovered yet. This would explain why it's taken so long for one of its victims to have been found, and mostly through pure chance that someone happened to be passing by. I've arranged for investigation into missing persons reports in Los Cerdos County to determine if any of them would be potential SCP-8087 victims. Containment Attempt 8087-1 Method: A Deer College zoologist2 was transported to the search area and tasked with aiding in the search for SCP-8087. Result: Following field research and discussion, the zoologist suggested the following: SCP-8087 is a possible herbivore, only attacking animals when threatened, never consuming them. SCP-8087 may be sensitive to light, explaining its nocturnal nature and its aversion to attacking the hiker who discovered SCP-8087-1. SCP-8087 may be capable of running on all six limbs, demonstrating an evolutionarily anomalous, but technically physically non-anomalous running dexterity, resulting in increased speed. Following their research, the zoologist was transferred back into Foundation custody. Containment Attempt 8087-2 Method: Multiple anomalous canines possessing advanced olfactory capabilities were brought into the search area to assist in the investigation. The canines were previously stored at Wilson's Wildlife Solutions. Result: The canines located a human skeleton hidden in dense shrubbery next to a cliffside. DNA testing of the bones identified the skeleton as that of an adult woman reported missing in 1985. Following further investigation, the cause of death was determined to have been a fatal neck injury caused by falling from the adjacent cliff, and not due to SCP-8087. The woman's family was notified of the discovery through a Foundation front charity; the remains were cremated per their wishes. The canines additionally located a number of animal carcasses; all were determined to have been victims of non-anomalous causes (starvation, fungal infection, etc.) and not SCP-8087. Containment Attempt 8087-3 Method: Omicron-24 personnel would install a series of separate Hume detecting devices 1.5 kilometers apart from one another, covering the entire area of Sagrario National Park, to determine the approximate location of SCP-8087 at all times. All Hume detecting devices were equipped with security cameras to record footage. Result: Installation of all devices required eight days. No abnormal Hume readings have been detected since, and no video evidence of SCP-8087 was ascertained. Addendum 03: Standard investigation into SCP-8087 was halted on July 4, 2014 by the Lead Researcher due to the following email exchange. To: pcs.84etis|euqannomis#pcs.84etis|euqannomis From: pcs.42norcimo|allivessivart#pcs.42norcimo|allivessivart Subject: SCP-8087 isn't real Dear Dr. Naque, My team and I have been talking about this for a few days now, we've tried every single method we've got. The only thing left is that experimental thaumaturgic device that we still haven't gotten approval to have shipped to our outpost for use. My team is absolutely demoralized at this point from the lack of progress. We've never been this slow at making any sort of discovery, and the constant all-night searches are messing with our health. Are you sure the residents of Reinhardt aren't making this thing up? I mean, a wealthy pharmaceutical executive dies in the forest and the locals blame it on a cryptid, and not, say, a bear. There must be an ulterior reason for that. Sincerely, Travis Sevilla Omicron-24 Team Captain To: pcs.42norcimo|allivessivart#pcs.42norcimo|allivessivart From: pcs.84etis|euqannomis#pcs.84etis|euqannomis Subject: Re:SCP-8087 isn't real Travis, There are many such anomalies known to the Foundation that are "difficult to catch". Yet, when left alone, they continue to terrorize innocent people, cutting lives short. Should we let innocent civilians die to dangerous anomalies in gruesome manners, when we could have them contained safely in our facilities? I remember reading about such an anomaly in the Foundation newsletter a couple months ago. It was a clan of sauropod dinosaurs hidden in Africa, hidden from the rest of the world. It's evaded capture for decades, yet they're still being hunted down by our colleagues stationed in that region. The Foundation does not give up that easily in our fight against the unknown. We search continuously, we persevere against that which refuses to come into the light. I don't believe in just giving up so easily when the going gets tough, and I hope you can come around to agreeing with me. Plus, you and your team are all getting hazard pay by working nights. That's not something I would personally complain about. Researcher Simon Naque, Site-48 To: pcs.84etis|euqannomis#pcs.84etis|euqannomis From: pcs.42norcimo|allivessivart#pcs.42norcimo|allivessivart Subject: Re:SCP-8087 isn't real Dear Dr. Naque, About those African sauropods, the newsletter specifically talked about how they've given up on finding them because they were a myth made up by the locals for tourism purposes, and designated as "Explained". I get you want to be known for capturing a weird freak of nature, but there are still reasons for legends to spread. Maybe, as the newsletter mentioned, it's to increase tourism. Perhaps it's to hide some sort of shameful event, whether done through anomalous means or not. Or it could be the result of a mass delusion, the cause of which is a different anomaly altogether. I only request that you consider alternative explanations regarding SCP-8087, so we're not stuck in a decades-long goose chase. Sincerely, Travis Sevilla Omicron-24 Team Captain To: pcs.42norcimo|allivessivart#pcs.42norcimo|allivessivart From: pcs.84etis|euqannomis#pcs.84etis|euqannomis Subject: Re:SCP-8087 isn't real Travis, I'll look into the suggestion by contacting the more outspoken civilians for further interrogation. Meanwhile, when we get approved to use that thaumaturgic device, you have my permission to set it up without me. We're going to find the truth behind SCP-8087 one way or another. Researcher Simon Naque, Site-48 Following this exchange, Researcher Naque reinitiated interviews with Reinhardt residents in an attempt to seek a potential suspect in the event that SCP-8087-1's death was not due to SCP-8087. Transcript 8087-4 Interviewer: Lead Researcher Naque Interviewed: Norbert Ortiz Date: July 5, 2014 <Begin Log> Ortiz is seated with a drink at a local bar. Researcher Naque approaches and sits next to him. Naque: Mr. Ortiz. Ortiz: Hmm? Oh, it's you again… I never got your name… Naque: It's Simon. We've been struggling with finding this "Huckmucker" for a few weeks now. Ortiz: Try thirty years, that's how long I've been looking. Naque: We have a bit of suspicion that it, um… might not be real? Ortiz stares at Researcher Naque with a look of confusion. Ortiz: You're gonna give up that easily? You've only looked for two weeks and quit, and now you're gonna tell me it's not real? Naque: Yes, but my team has a lot of scientific tools and resources, so if we still can't find it, that can only mean one thing… Ortiz shrugs his shoulders. Ortiz: I'm not sure what to tell you, Simon. Ortiz takes a sip of his drink as Researcher Naque ponders to himself. Naque: Now that I think of it, I'm curious about your relationship with Mr. Leese prior to his death. How much did you know about his background? Ortiz: Why does that matter to your search? Naque: Mr. Ortiz, answer the question, please. Ortiz takes a sigh. Ortiz: I initially thought Carl worked in Hollywood, and my daughter wanted to be a movie star, so… I tried to befriend him for that industry connection, if you know what I mean. Naque: Hold on, he wasn't- Ortiz: I know he worked for Big Pharma, I found that out later. My daughter also has Reynaud's disease, so I thought he could… cut me a deal on her meds later down the line, I guess? Naque: You wanted to befriend him for the potential benefits? Ortiz: I tried to, but he kept getting on everyone's nerves. As I've said before, no trigger discipline, walked around like he owned the place, he- Ortiz gasps. Ortiz: Wait, are you- are you accusing me of murdering Carl? Is that what this is about? Naque: What? No no no, Of course not! That never crossed my mind. Again, my suspicion was that the- Ortiz: Well, I would never kill anyone! Genuinely, why would you assume there's a murderer on the loose just because you can't find the Huckmucker with all your fancy science tools? Naque: I'm just willing to explore alternative reasons, especially since a considerable amount of people in this town keeps insisting in this creature's existence. Ortiz: See? I'm not- I'm not alone in that! Naque: Come to think of it, who was the first person to insist on this creature's responsibility in Leese's death? Ortiz: Well… um… Naque: What is it? Ortiz: I do remember the sheriff… he was the first to suggest that the Huckmucker killed Carl, the morning after he died. Not bullshitting you on that, I swear to Christ. Naque: What was this sheriff's name? Ortiz: It was… Happ. Sheriff Happ, I think. Naque: Lieutenant Happ? Ortiz: Was he a lieutenant? He worked for the Sheriff's Department, that's what I know for sure. Researcher Naque stands up from his seat. Naque: Thank you so much for this info, Mr. Ortiz. I need to get going. Ortiz: Alright then. Good luck, Simon. Researcher Naque exits the bar. <End Log> Following this interview, Omicron-24 personnel performed a raid on LCCSD Lieutenant Brian Happ's apartment residence, discovering that it had been abandoned by Happ. Site-48 was notified of his disappearance, and Foundation operatives across the western United States were tasked with his rediscovery. Addendum 04: On July 7, 2014, Lieutenant Happ was discovered attempting to enter Mexico. He was detained by Foundation agents within US Customs and Border Protection, and transported to Site-48 for interrogation. Transcript 8087-5 Interviewer: Lead Researcher Naque Interviewed: LCCSD Lieutenant Happ Date: July 8, 2014 <Begin Log> Lieutenant Happ is restrained in his chair as Researcher Naque enters the interrogation chamber. Happ: Simon. Naque: Lieutenant Happ, we've got a few more questions for you regarding this "Huckmucker". Lieutenant Happ begins to breathe heavily. Happ: What the- what the fuck is- Is that why you kidnapped me at the Mexican border? Actually, who are you people anyway? FBI? CIA? Drug Cartel? Naque: There are a few details about the Huckmucker case that don't line up, and since you're the authority figure who keeps claiming that Mr. Leese was murdered by this cryptid creature, we thought we'd ask you for more details. Happ: Cause- cause it was the Huckmucker! Who else could it've been? Naque: That's what I'm trying to figure out, sir. Happ: I told you, I told you it was the Huckmucker! Why- why don't you believe me? Naque: We've spent weeks looking for this thing, and nothing's come up. Over a dozen people are scouring Sagrario National Park every single night for this creature. Nothing. Now we're starting to call bluff on this creature's existence, that's why we're asking around again. Happ: This isn't "asking around", this is kidnapping! Actually- I wanna see your badge! Who do you work for? Naque: No one else we've asked has been of any help, and again, you're the one- Happ: I'm sorry, there's other people in your custody? Like, people of Reinhardt? Naque: Well… Happ: Who the hell are you to detain the people of Reinhardt over the Huckmucker killing someone? Naque: Sir, that's not relevant to this discussion. Happ: Whoever they are, they're completely innocent. I- um… Naque: Innocent of what? Lieutenant Happ stares at Researcher Naque in silence. Naque: Sir? More silence. Happ: My wife… her name was Nancy. We tied the knot about eleven years ago. Naque: Um… what does this have to do with- Happ: Let me finish. So all's well, right? Until… she started to complain about pain in her abdomen. I thought, like all men do, that it was just a really bad period. Menopause, even. She was around that age at the time. But she kept insisting that she see the doctor, so I took her there. Doctor told her that she was just being anxious and sent her home. Naque: I still fail to see how- Happ: I said let me finish! Anyway, she kept complaining about the pain to the point that she couldn't get out of bed, so I found a different doctor, a lady, and took Nancy there instead. This doctor wanted to check for "the big C", as she called it. But to do that, we'd have to get my health insurance to approve the tests. Naque: And then? Happ: We got health insurance through my position with the Los Cerdos Sheriff, the company's called Unity Healthcare. So the doctor, the second one, she submits the paperwork, right? But the bastard health insurance says no! Researcher Naque nods his head. Happ: So I file an appeal on my wife's behalf, and I find out that they think it's not "medically necessary"! Never mind the fact that she's crying from the pain non-stop, they just fuckin' said "no", and they said "no" again! At that point, I decided to pay for the tests out of my own pocket. I dipped into my retirement fund and sold my truck, then got them done. Naque: What did the tests say? A short pause. Happ: Ovarian cancer. Lieutenant Happ begins to sob. Happ: It'd already spread… the doctor referred us to a specialist to set up a treatment plan, but then… then I had to deal with that fucking health insurance again! Happ: And- and you know what- you know what they said? They said I violated their policy by paying for the tests out of pocket! They said "no" again! Lieutenant Happ coughs on his tears. Happ: Once we finally reached the treatment stage, we found out each chemotherapy injection costs $11,000. Eleven thousand dollars! I ended up remortgaging my house to pay for it all. I couldn't risk fighting against the insurance company when her cancer was so widespread. Silence. Happ: January 5th. I pulled the plug. She was… I didn't want to see her suffer anymore. Lieutenant Happ takes a sigh. Happ: Didn't go to work for months after that… my house got foreclosed on. Not that it mattered, I had no one to share it with. Another silence. Naque: Come to think of it, Mr. Leese work for Unity Health- Happ: Not just "worked for"- he was- he was a fucking executive! A one-percenter corporate pig motherfucker! He- he exploited hard-working Americans like me and my wife! It's his fault she's dead! It's all his fault! Researcher Naque stares down at Lieutenant Happ. Naque: You killed Mr. Leese and blamed it on that creature, didn't you? Lieutenant Happ does not respond. Naque: You probably tracked him down, pulled him over in your police car, and dragged him into the woods to kill him. Is that correct? Happ: Don't… don't put it like that. Naque: Is that not what happened? Happ: Was I supposed to let that man get away with everything? Naque: Mr. Leese didn't kill your wife, her cancer did. Happ: I fucking told you, he's complicit in her death! He made Unity Healthcare the stingy bastards they are! If they'd approved her tests the first time, the cancer wouldn't have spread as far, she would've had a much better chance at survival, and she'd probably be cancer-free by now. A short pause. Happ: I'd still be happy, and she'd still be alive. Lieutenant Happ coughs uncontrollably. Happ: I've got nothing left. I've got no one left. I… I was gonna go to Mexico, as you know, but… now that I think about it… Naque: You lacked a plan on what to do once you got there? Lieutenant Happ nods his head "yes". Researcher Naque sighs in anguish. Naque: You had me and my team go on this wild goose chase for nothing. Happ: Was I supposed to- Naque: Just- I was so excited find this creature, this "Huckmucker". My team spent over two weeks searching for this animal whose existence you made up. Happ: I had no way of knowing that your team would show up all gung ho about it. I thought it'd be forgotten after enough time had passed. Researcher Naque sighs again. Naque: Come to think of it, one last question: What was the murder weapon you used to kill Mr. Leese? Happ: It was… an axe. I threw it in the lake under Hostie Falls. Naque: That's all I need to hear. Researcher Naque exits the interrogation chamber, leaving Lieutenant Happ alone in the room. Lieutenant Happ bows his head down and continues to sob. <End Log> Following interrogation, Lieutenant Happ was transferred to civilian authorities, who formally arrested and charged him with first degree murder. A small-scale disinformation campaign has been established for the duration of time required to transfer the necessary files to said authorities. Investigation into SCP-8087 has concluded, and MTF Omicron-24 has been rescinded from the area. Reclassification to Explained is pending. Footnotes 1. This report was written prior to the assignment of the SCP-8087-1 designation, and has been preserved as-is for posterity. 2. The zoologist in question was placed into Foundation custody in relation to an unrelated phenomenon, and was offered clemency in exchange for assistance regarding SCP-8087 research. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8087" by Jiwoahn, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8087. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Redwood Forest Cropped.jpg Name: Rockefeller Forest Sequoia sempervirens Author: Jason Sturner License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Additional Notes: Cropped from original Filename: huckiemuckie.jpg Name: Huckmucker Sketch by Ortiz Author: Jiwoahn License: CC-BY-SA-3.0 Source Link: Name: Gordon Copeland (New Zealand politician) Author: The Kiwi Party License: CC-BY-SA-3.0 DEED Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Name: GMT800-Cadillac-Escalade-ESV Author: IFCAR License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-8088 | thaumiel | "Is the recording on, AKASHA?" "Affirmative. Overwrite error. Report has been sent to Archival Staff. Affirmative. Overwrite error. Report has been sent to Archival Staff. Streaming feed in real time." "WE'RE ALREADY IN THE TIME LOOP WHAT DO WE DO NOW?" Item #: SCP-8088 Site Responsible: Area S-53 Director: Blockplan Research Head: N/A Assigned Task Force: N/A Level 1/8088 Area Common Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8088 has a scheduled maintenance check every month as agreed upon by the Storith City Council and the Foundation External Affairs department. Maintenance teams must consist of at least one machine engineer, one magitech engineer, one thaumaturge, and one archivist. Description: SCP-8088s are a series of 1 meter pillars surrounding Area S-531. They function as a passive security system and containment vessel for the city, trapping intruders in a Type-2 Temporal Displacement Area in which the perceived threat will repeat its actions within a three minute time frame, indefinitely, until relevant personnel arrive to investigate the matter. INCIDENT REPORT 8088:03/02/2024 After an anomalous citizen of Storith broke instance #888 of SCP-8088 on a transfiguration accident, an off-schedule maintenance team from the Foundation was sent to fix it. The city council decided prior to this day that the culprit, juvenile, would have to assist fixing the pillar alongside the team then to be lectured about safety to atone for the mistake. Unfortunately, SCP-8088 seemed to have already considered the teenager as a threat, and activated its protocol autonomously. Following this report are the logs regarding aforementioned incident. MISSION LOG 8088:03/02/2024 Supervisor: Dr. Athena Blake, Eng.D Staff: Devon Daniels, B.Magtech; Arcanamagister Magnus Maxime; AKASHA.aic in automaton body Other: Emily Sucrose, High School Freshman, Citizen of Storith Dr. Blake: -cording on, AKASHA? AKASHA.aic: Affirmative. Dr. Blake: As per document I1.3.23.8088, the reason for this off-schedule maintenance trip is to fix an 8088 instance that was broken by force. Incident was an accident, with details printed on that I can read out loud, or the incident-related personnel can retell into the recording. Ms. Sucrose: (sigh) I fucked up. Tried to shapeshift, did something wrong, stepped on the peg. I'm sorry. Researcher Daniels: I think it's more wanting to know about how something hard as diamonds can break like that. Am. Maxime: Technically diamonds break very easily which is why in mag- Researcher Daniels: Yeah yeah yeah whatever did it crunch into a billion pieces or what? Ms. Sucrose: Ugh, are all nerd-Foundies like this? I thought the MP2s were bad with the questioning shit. Dr. Blake: We can get back on topic so this gets over with faster. At present, we are walking down the hill border where the eight-hundreds-numbered iterations are installed. Am. Maxime: Wait so I can cast a barrier on all of us before proceeding. The air already smells like purple static. Researcher Daniels: Yeah and I can see the. Yeah that's broken pretty bad, actually, that's awesome. (Whistle) Well, I guess that means you don't have problems turning kaiju-size, huh, kid? Oh- thank you Maxie. Ms. Sucrose: (Humphs. Crosses arms, visibly disgruntled.) Dr. Blake: Your friendliness sounds antagonizing, Daniels. If Ms. Sucrose punches you I won't help- ah, wait, I'm a little allergic to lightning magic, can you cast the barrier on me one more time, Arcanamagister? Ms. Sucrose: Don't enable me, I might do it. Ah- thank you, uh, ser wizard. Does the robot not need it? Am. Maxime: Not this one, no. If anyone is nauseous from the mana pressure as we walk nearer I have ante-potions on me as well. Ms. Sucrose: Oh, uh… Dr. Blake, since I broke it, do I have to do anything specific to help fix the thing? (There is sound of glass and electricity as Researcher Daniels performs a gravitational spell to sweep up the shards of SCP-8088.) Dr. Blake: Not really, just hold the cords while Daniels and I fix it. If you'd like to learn the science, Arcanamagister Maxime used to tutor magical physics for kids your age. Am. Maxime: Will not charge you a dime on the first lesson. On my word. Dr. Blake: Okay, I'll begin the repairs now. Central knot in check, shards accounted for, all staff and presiding in check. Is the recording on, AKASHA? AKASHA.aic: Affirmative. Dr. Blake: As per document I1.3.23.8088, the reason for this off-schedule maintenance trip is to fix an 8088 instance that was broken by force. Incident was an accident, with details printed on that I can read out loud, or the incident-related personnel can retell into the recording. Ms. Sucrose: (sigh) I fucked up. Tried to shapeshift, did something wrong, stepped on the peg. I'm sorry… wait. Researcher Daniels: I think it's more wanting to know about how something hard as diamonds can break like- AKASHA.aic: Overwrite error. Report has been sent to Archival Staff. (Researcher Daniels pauses, and pokes AKASHA.aic's chassis. Ms. Sucrose follows suit.) Dr. Blake: You were saying, Miss Sucrose? Ms. Sucrose: …ah, no, I. Well, part ancient dinosaur or whatever and I thought if I did it far away I wouldn't hurt anybody. Researcher Daniels: Dinosaurs are ancient by default, by the way. (Ms. Sucrose blinks hard at Researcher Daniels, both to express annoyance and as a method of trying to confirm the situation. Researcher Daniels tilts his head down in confirmation.) Am. Maxime: I think based on context it would fit better to say arcane dinosaur. Is it a magical dinosaur? Dr. Blake: We can get back on topic so this gets over with faster. At present, we are walking down the hill border where the eight-hundreds-numbered iterations are installed. Am. Maxime: Wait so I can cast a barrier on all of us before proceeding. The air already smells like purple static. Researcher Daniels: Yeah and I can see the. Yeah that's broken pretty bad, actually, that's… can you read back what the thing does, specifically, Athena? (Arcanamagister Maxime casts the protection spell on all personnel.) Dr. Blake: It's Dr. Blake on official business, Daniels. But yeah, sure, SCP-8088s are a series of 1 meter pillars surrounding Area S-53. They function as a passive security system and containment vessel for the city, trapping intruders in a Type-2 Temporal Displacement Area in which the perceived threat will repeat its actions within a three minute time frame, indefinitely, until relevant personnel arrive to investigate the matter. Oh, can you cast the barrier twice on me, Arcanamagister? I'm a bit allergic to lightning magic. Researcher Daniels: Uh-huh. And it took three minutes for us to walk down this hill? Dr. Blake: Well, Type-2s aren't true timeloops as they can still be affected by things outside its range. We have safety protocols in case something happens. (Researcher Daniels casts the same gravitational spell as before while dialogue continues.) Ms. Sucrose: But in theory if something did f- mess up, or if we get stuck here, we would be fine, right? Dr. Blake: Plenty are watching, because this is an unusual repair time. Besides, AKASHA just sent a report on some small error and is probably broadcasting or recording this somehow. Am. Maxime: It is unusual that you don't know for sure, Doctor. Dr. Blake: I was caught a little unprepared, is all. Ms. Sucrose: Also, is there anything I can do to help fix it? I broke it, so this is kind of my fault. Dr. Blake: Just hold this roll of cords while Daniels and I fix it. If you'd like to learn the science, Arcanamagister Maxime used to tutor magical physics for kids your age. Am. Maxime: Will not charge you a dime on the first lesson. On my word. Dr. Blake: Okay, I'll begin the repairs now. Central knot in check, shards accounted for, all staff and presiding in check. Is the recording on, AKASHA? AKASHA.aic: Affirmative. Overwrite error. Report has been sent to Archival Staff. Affirmative. Overwrite error. Report has been sent to Archival Staff. Streaming feed in real time. Ms.Sucrose: Oh no. The reports continue cycling for several more minutes, until Archival Staff notified the Engineering Department and the local Foundation Security Staff on standby. An emergency meeting was soon held to deal with the incident. EMERGENCY MEETING LOG 8088:03/02/2024 Mediator: Head of Thaumaturgic Engineering Prof. Dr. Diana Daniels, Magtech.D Staff: Security Commissioner Assad Al-Azhar; Chief Billy Carryman, Storith Chief of Police Archiving: Officer Magpie; AKASHA.aic Prof. Daniels: With these files distributed I will formally start this emergency meeting. Issue du jour: SCP-8088's activation on off-schedule maintenance. Al-Azhar: Thank you, Professor. I would have thought extracting the engineering staff in our usual method would prove success, but you summoning us onto a video call proves otherwise. Carryman: (Whistles.) Jumping on business, apparently. Prof. Daniels: Oh no, I much prefer this direct approach. We rescue my son faster if we move this along. Al-Azhar: Of course, professor. Now explain how we can extract the crew effectively, if you will. Prof. Daniels: Type-2 Temporal Displacement Areas differ from type 1s that are true time loops, meaning that we can directly interfere without causing damage to the flow of time outside of local spacetime. That is also its largest danger, as any variable can quickly change the procession and outcome of the loop. Considering SCP-8088's condition being in shards and looping directly as it is being repaired, the object cannot be reset from the grid like it usually is. Al-Azhar: I asked how we can extract the crew effectively. Prof. Daniels: And I am telling you the hazard of doing it by brute force. If you both fuck up, the loop will either take you both, rip spacetime, or some other unknown variable that we cannot foresee. We need a different approach, and preferably, doing so without touching SCP-8088. (Carryman glances at Al-Azhar.) Carryman: I mean I don't know, I didn't finish arcane school but can't we just un-magic it? Dispel it for a bit, get them out, put it back? Prof. Daniels: The barrier is holding off the outside radiation and the creatures that come out of the deep woods. Foolishly, SCP-8088 was constructed on a single grid with a single cord of knots between every iteration. Al-Azhar: A century ago there were no real engineering codes, so it's a reasonable flaw. Carryman: Okay, what else can affect the crew? Al-Azhar: Can we blast memetics in there, as to make them hurry up and fix it? Prof. Daniels: Hm… not bad conceptually. They will have to fix the iteration in under three minutes, which will prove challenging. Carryman: Three minutes isn't even enough time to glue that thing together, I'm guessing. Prof. Daniels: I literally just said it like that. An- Carryman: Wait, look at the feed. (Feed shows Ms. Sucrose crying and hitting AKASHA's body, with Researcher Daniels attempting to get her to calm down. She repeatedly blames herself in frustration, and he eventually holds her in a light hug. Chief Carryman uses the video call draw function to circle Researcher Daniels' face.) Carryman: I think your kid knows it's looping but isn't telling. Prof. Daniels: I would not find that surprising. He has a very high cognitive resistance score, and I taught him to always gather data before moving forward. Al-Azhar: In the first loop, he asked whether it "crunched into a billion pieces" when Miss Sucrose broke it. Did he ask that truly to make light of it, or could he have predicted this risk? Prof. Daniels: That is… possible. Rather likely, actually. (A silence passes.) Carryman: Are we moving to strategy talk now? Prof. Daniels: If my son is aware, then he can be our way into the system. The problem is that memetics aren't that effective on him due to his resistance. Al-Azhar: What about the girl? Carryman: She's just a kid, the others won't listen. The robot's a better bet than her. Al-Azhar: She is least affected by the ordeal, and I assume we all saw the same footage. Several times over. She is a regular civilian with no resistance training, just immune to the time loop memory wipe out of natural talent. Not using her to succeed is willfully being ineffective. Prof. Daniels: I agree conceptually, but your language needs work, Assad. Al-Azhar: …of course, Professor. I'll get the memetics projector online. Carryman: I'll get the usual rescue team to stand by. Prof. Daniels: Thank you, gentlemen. Meeting dismissed. A memetic projector filled with information regarding the mechanics of SCP-8088 soon arrives at the scene, with Commissioner Al-Azhar making a physical appearance to man the projector himself. Chief Carryman sends six policemen and an ambulance, but remains in his office throughout the incident. Miss Sucrose's mother arrives on scene as well as her family, having been notified by Carryman as per legal procedure. Dr. Blake: Is the recording on, AKASHA? AKASHA.aic: Affirmative. Overwrite error. Report has been sent to Archival Staff. Affirmative. Overwrite error. Report has been sent to Archival Staff. Streaming feed in real time. Ms. Sucrose: WE'RE ALREADY IN THE TIME LOOP WHAT DO WE DO NOW? Dr. Blake: God lord- why did you shout- oh. Wait, you've never read this document, how do you know about the temporal- Am. Maxime: It would seem she is the only one unaffected, if true. Dr. Blake: I have no reason to suspect she is lying, but, you did break it. Is this about something else, actually? Researcher Daniels: I think, we should just keep going and fix it. Talking about the how it happened will take too long. (Dr. Blake gives Researcher Daniels an incredulous look.) Ms. Sucrose: My head hurts. Dr. Blake: And you're making an excuse to get out of doing this? Am. Maxime: Athena. Dr. Blake: Okay. Let's go, then. We can get back on topic so this gets over with faster. At present, we are walking down the hill border where the eight-hundreds-numbered iterations are installed. The extra weight is proving to be a hindrance, and babysitting some kid isn't worth the disturbance to just doing our jobs. (Researcher Daniels casts the same gravitational spell as before, but now deliberately manouvers the shards so that the residue dust gets into Dr. Blake's shoes and jacket.) Ms. Sucrose: Ugh… ow… Am. Maxime: I think you might have pressure sickness. I have antepotions on my person for that. One moment. Ms. Sucrose: Thank you. I think the electricity is giving me visions or, something, I dunno. Dr. Blake: If you're going to help, hold these. Daniels and I will fix it and we can all go home. Central knot in check, shards accounted for, all staff and presiding in check. Is the recording on, AKASHA? Ms. Sucrose: Hey Mister Daniels… AKASHA.aic: Affirmative. Dr. Blake: As per document I1.3.23.8088, the reason for this off-schedule maintenance trip is to fix an 8088 instance that was broken by force. Incident was an accident, with details printed on that I can read out loud, or the incident-related personnel can retell into the recording. Ms. Sucrose: Mister Daniels can, if he wants to. Dr. Blake: …sure I guess? Why him when you know the story best, being the direct person responsible? Ms. Sucrose: Why indeed. Researcher Daniels: Well, uh. She told me a little ago she's been getting visions about the peg. Maybe it has memetic effects we don't know about? Dr. Blake: …when was this? Ms. Sucrose: On the walk- Researcher Daniels: In the car- Dr. Blake: …Daniels. Just because you're childish does not mean you can collude with the child to pull whatever prank you're trying to do. Researcher Daniels: But you love me? (Dr. Blake makes a mock-gagging noise.) Am. Maxime: Speaking of that. If any of you get nauseous from the mana pressure, I have antepotions on my person. Wait while I cast the protection spell, as we approach, I can smell the purple static. (Arcanamagister Maxime casts the spell, and everyone thanks them. They cast it one more time for Doctor Blake when requested. They approach the broken SCP-8088 instance wordlessly.) Ms. Sucrose: Hey, is there anything specific I can do to help? Dr. Blake: Noth- Ms. Sucrose: Not even helping anchor the central knot, putting a conductor inbetween the nodes temporarily so the grid doesn't disconnect as you and Daniels fix it? Which is why you're about to ask me to hold the extra rope? Dr. Blake: Daniels, ping security. Researcher Daniels: I think they're already here, actually. Memetic cannon, can pierce distortions. My mother was on the team that made it. Am. Maxime: We would have all seen the same visions if that were true. Well, I mean, technically. Unless it were mounted on and shot directly at Miss Sucrose. Researcher Daniels: SCP-8088 is already a strong memetic on top of a temporal anomaly. It's why it's the security system. We have resistance training for that, and she's a kid, so they probably thought this was the best bet. Dr. Blake: Okay, okay, okay, let's just fix this. Really fast and we can talk later. Is the recording on, AKASHA? AKASHA.aic: Affirmative. Overwrite error. Report has been sent to Archival Staff. Affirmative. Overwrite error. Report has been sent to Archival Staff. Streaming feed in real time. Dr. Blake: As per document I1.3.23.8088, the reason for this off-schedule maintenance trip is to fix an 8088 instance that was broken by force. Incident was an accident, with details printed on that I can read out loud, or the incident-related personnel can retell into the recording. (Miss Sucrose looks expectantly at Researcher Daniels.) Researcher Daniels: …hey just for a refresher, can you re-read what it does? Not aloud. Read it word for word. Dr. Blake: …uh huh, okay, what's this about? Researcher Daniels: Specifically, the perceived threat will repeat its actions within a three minute time frame, indefinitely, until relevant personnel arrive to investigate the matter. Am. Maxime: Oh… shit. Dr. Blake: Fuck. Researcher Daniels: Athena, you swore! In an official document! (Dr. Blake smacks her mouth shut.) Ms. Sucrose: The Outside is streaming in information right now. Uh, we have to fix it within three minutes. Researcher Daniels: Like a bomb defusing. Am. Maxime: Technically this is a re-fuse-ing. A rope is a fuse, so the pun- Researcher Daniels: Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll race all of you there! Dr. Blake: Hey wait! (Everyone runs downhill towards SCP-8088. Arcanamagister Maxime does not cast the barrier spell in time before Researcher Daniels casts the gravitational spell. This causes Doctor Blake to sneeze repeatedly, and the cycle repeats before the instance is fixed.) AKASHA.aic: Affirmative. Overwrite error. Report has been sent to Archival Staff. Affirmative. Overwrite error. Report has been sent to Archival Staff. Streaming feed in real time. Dr. Blake: As per document I1.3.23.8088, the reason for this off-schedule maintenance trip is- Ms. Sucrose: Ser Maxime, please cast protection now, we have to fix it in three minutes. Cast it twice for Doctor Blake. She'll sneeze really bad without it. Researcher Daniels: I think I can sweep from here while you do that. Sorry. Thank you. (Arcanamagister Maxime shrugs and does the spell. It is unclear whether they have realized their perdicament or not.) Dr. Blake: Daniels, hey, you'll tell me if we fucked up, won't you? Ms. Sucrose: I'm the only one who fucked up here, Doctor Blake. Just like that judge asked, I should be the one to fix it. Dr. Blake: …alright. Well, I mean, if you'd like to learn the science, Ser Maxime used to tutor kids your age. Am. Maxime: Will not charge you a dime on the first lesson. On my word. Ms. Sucrose: I'll ask my mom if we can. (Engineering team descends the hill, and fixes SCP-8088. Researcher Daniels uses his wand as a flashlight as he helps Ms. Sucrose assist Dr. Blake.) (The instance was physically fixed with three people working on it. However, nothing happens, and Dr. Blake realized she never confirmed the recording status of AKASHA at the start. The loop begins again.) The reports from AKASHA.aic continue. The first loop after the one above had Ms. Sucrose yelling at the crew that it was futile and they were trapped forever. Researcher Daniels tried his best to re-center her to the mission at hand. During this time, Ms. Sucrose's mother requested to say something into the projector. Commissioner Al-Azhar granted the request out-of-procedure to mitigate stress, but immediately contacted Director Blockplan within unexpected incident protocol. (For brevity, this is part of the loop where Arcanamagister Maxime offers their tutoring, just when SCP-8088 was to be fixed.) Mrs. Sucrose: Hey kiddo. Ms. Sucrose: Oh, augh, what- mom? My mom's on the projector now. Researcher Daniels: Tell us what she's saying, I'll point where your hands need to go. Mrs. Sucrose: I know you're stressed in there, but, I- Ms. Sucrose: Sorry I failed the whole. Becoming a dinosaur thing, mom. I'll be responsible like this from here on out. Mrs. Sucrose: That's okay. It's getting dark on the outside. I read the file on what the barrier is… and then I watched the CCTV of you doing it the first time again and I was just thinking… Ms. Sucrose: My mom has an idea. Maybe. Researcher Daniels: I'll try anything at this point. Mrs. Sucrose: I think it wants to catch giant you. Because maybe it doesn't think you're the monster, but you kind of are, so it's confused. Miss Sucrose: I think it wants to catch giant you. Because maybe it doesn't think you're the monster, but you kind of are, so it's confused. Is what she says. (SCP-8088 is fixed with thirty seconds to spare.) Miss Sucrose: Dinosaur transformation, take two. AKASHA.aic does not declare an error. The engineering team escapes, with only Miss Sucrose3 left looping in the temporal anomaly. The loop does not start atop the cliff like the other iterations, but starts at the very moment she stepped on SCP-8088 in the first place. Ms. Sucrose(Kaiju): Oh fuck- (Miss Sucrose flicks her tail to counterbalance, landing clear of SCP-8088. Her neck sways in excitement at the sight of the now fixed and working post.) Ms. Sucrose(Kaiju): Alright! Now I just gotta… Oh. Right. Thankfully, extracting her proved no further incident. Commissioner Assad helped Miss Sucrose walk to the medical tent, where the rest of the engineering team were waiting. Mrs. Sucrose, her husband, and second child were waiting with food, comforting Miss Sucrose from the ordeal she went through. She will be lectured regarding safety practices at a later date, by Arcanamagister Maxime, as is bound by protocol. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8088" by RuraScarlet, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8088. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Footnotes 1. The anomalous nexus known colloquially as Storith. 2. Military Police; a misnomer of Foundation Security staff that are double-employed by The City. 3. In the form of a large pink and orange brontosaur. |
SCP-8089 | archon | close Info X ⚠️ I have an Author Page! Item#: scp-8089 Level2 Secondary Class: archon Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: caution link to memo Special Containment Procedures: The continued existence of SCP-8089 depends on its status as an uncontained entity. Pursuit and observation of SCP-8089 is under the purvey of former Site-278 Director L. Emile Bouquet, with assistance from former Site-278 Chief Security Officer Iseult Bodmall and MTF Eta-10 (See No Evil) and Iota-44 (Norman Invaders). SCP-8089 mainly resides in the United Kingdom but has been detected on the Navarren border between France and Spain, and may also reside in Germany, Ireland, Italy, and northern Portugal. Description: SCP-8089 refers to a chimerical entity originating in the Isle of Anglesey, Wales, United Kingdom. The entity naturally emits a cognitohazardous sensory field that prohibits nearly all perception of it. It does not affect auditory sensations, however, and has been described as sounding like a pack of baying hounds. Persons sharing direct familial history with former Site-278 Director Bouquet are able to fully perceive the entity, through methods currently unknown. Bouquet has described the creature as having the head and neck of a serpent, the body of a leopard, the haunches of a lion, and the feet of a deer, and estimates it to be three meters in length and one point five meters in height, with an unknown weight. It is hypothesized that if the entity goes for an extended period of time without being actively pursued, it will perish. Addendum-1: In the event of SCP-8089's neutralization or termination, Bouquet and his retinue are to resume their duties at a Site to be determined. In the event of Bouquet's passing, a successor to the study and pursuit of SCP-8089 is to be chosen at his discretion. Addendum-2: Bouquet has supplied various audio logs, reports, and recordings to supplement SCP-8089 data, compiled and approved by acting Site-278 Director Offet. . . . Enclosed: A video record of Site-278 made prior to the events in question. Archived by acting Director Offet. Close [ Site-278 Director L. Emile Bouquet is drinking tea in his office when an alarm sounds. He sputters briefly before making an announcement. ] Bouquet (over the PA system): Attention, this is Director Bouquet. There has been a containment breach. All exits and entrances to Site Two Seventy-Eight have been sealed. All faculty and staff, remain calm and proceed to your designated safe rooms until further notice. Security teams will handle the rest. Repeat… [ the announcement is repeated ] Bouquet (on the comm with Site-278 chief security officer, Iseult Bodmall): Bodmall, it's Bouquet. What's your status? Bodmall: Mobile. I have my team sweeping Level One as we speak. Any idea where the breach is? Bouquet: Negative, continue your sweep. Escort any staff member you see to the nearest safe room, and keep me posted. Bodmall: Wilco, sir. Out. [ Bouquet opens a feed on all security cameras in Site-278, searching for irregularities. One cell reads as a confirmed breach. The security camera focuses on the breached cell, catching the glimpse of an anomaly before it flickers away. Bouquet pauses one of the feeds as the anomaly passes it and forwards the image to Bodmall. ] Bodmall: Our bogey, sir? Bouquet: I believe so. It's apparently able to move faster than the eye can see. The good news is that's pretty much all it does. How many SRAs do you have? Bodmall: Just one, sir. I can send someone to retrieve more. Bouquet: Better safe than sorry. Get one more and keep an eye out. I'll see if I can't seal it off remotely. Bodmall: Wilco, sir. Out. [ Various video feeds attempt to focus on the anomaly. Bouquet remotely closes several doors, trying to cut it off and trap it. He leaves some rooms alone, giving it the illusion of safety. ] Bouquet: It's going into room one thirty-one now. [ brief radio silence ] One thirty-five. Thirty-seven. Now it's at one forty-four. Forty-eight — wait, it just passed into Lab Eleven! There's only one way out of there. Bodmall: Copy, we're on its trail. Priming SRAs. Bouquet: I'm sealing the door now. What's your ETA? Bodmall: Twelve seconds! Bouquet: [ brief radio silence ] Door is sealed! Activate SRAs! Bodmall: Copy. Planting them now. [ The hum of an activating Scranton Reality Anchor is heard. ] Bouquet: Bodmall, are you ready? Bodmall: Primed. Bouquet: Unsealing entrance to Lab Eleven in five…four…three… [ Bouquet unseals Lab 11. The security team runs in and apprehends the anomaly. Bodmall brings it out, hoists her phone up, and takes a self-photograph. ] Bodmall: Time! Bouquet: Ten minutes nine seconds. Not too shabby. Bodmall: Bah, we could do better. Are we all clear? Bouquet: Not yet. Another cell is acting up. Could be a malfunction in the system. And…it's a breach. Bodmall: Crap. [ Bodmall handcuffs the anomaly and entrusts it to the security team. ] Okay, boss, looks like we're still rolling. Status? Bouquet: [ laughing ] Stand down, it's only a Safe-class anomaly. Chamber two-one-oh-eight. I guess you could just shut its door and lock it again if you want. Bodmall: May as well. Better add five more minutes to my time there, boss. Damn it. Bouquet: A sub-twenty's nothing to complain about, Bodmall. Drill or not, you all performed admirably. I'll call Maintenance about the malfunction. You give your squad an extra fifteen minutes in the Rec Room. Bodmall: Will do. I'll reset the dummy first. Super-speed, eh? That's an odd one. The things Anderson can program… Bouquet: [ laughing ] Like killer paintballs? Bodmall: [ sighs ] Are you ever gonna let me live that one down? Bouquet: Only if you forget about the time the dummy sprayed me with tar. You did get rid of that picture you took, right? Bodmall: Uh, no comment, sir. Over and out. Note: the preceding was a record of a standard security breach drill, which incorporate a metamorphic simulacrum created by Anderson Robotics, programmed to mimic a multitude of low-risk anomalous behaviors. The drills are timed to go off randomly, three times per month. Audio Log 01 of Director L. E. Bouquet I've been with the Foundation for twenty-five years now. Worked my way from Junior Researcher at eighteen, all the way up to Director of Site-278 in Corsica. I think I've done all right for myself. We've lost a lot of good people, but who hasn't? We've spared the world more than a few dangerous anomalies, so that's something to be proud of. I only have one real regret…but I'd rather not get into that. It's personal. I suppose my story really began about three days or so after the drill. We had just passed our monthly quota and were admittedly a little more relaxed than we ought to have been, but I suppose we'd earned a little hubris. Well, we were certainly going to get our fair share of unexpected action. For the last several weeks, our local Mobile Task Force, Iota-44, the Norman Invaders, had been sweeping the country for rumors of a temporal anomaly. They hadn't been having much luck finding it, but they were committed with their reports. I remember getting the alert from Captain Cochon one day that his squad had information they wanted to share with me personally, so I made preparations and welcomed the team inside. Enclosed: an edited transcription of the described meeting, as recorded by an operative of Iota-44 who chooses to remain anonymous. Cochon: Well, it's probably nothing. Renard heard some dogs barking in the distance. Bouquet: Dogs? Renard: Yes, sir, a large number of them. I just thought it was unusual since we were out in the middle of the countryside. I guess someone could have been taking them for a walk, but they'd have to be toting around a lot of dogs for them to sound like that. Bouquet: How many would you say there were? Renard: Hmm, somewhere between fifteen and twenty. They could've just as easily been a pack of strays. Bouquet: And that was the only incident that stood out? Cochon: Just for that day, sir. [ Cochon borrows a cell phone from J. Taureau, another Iota-44 member. ] I asked Taureau to take some photos of the area, just in case. Maybe it was a cognitohazard, or some other effect the anomaly had on the area. [ Bouquet examines the photos. ] Bouquet: Were there any deer in the area? Cochon: Deer? Bouquet: Yes. There are deer tracks in this photo. Cochon: I don't see any tracks. How about you? [ He shows the phone to Taureau. ] Taureau: No, sir. [ The other members of Iota-44 state the same. ] Bouquet: That's strange. You're absolutely certain you don't see anything? Cochon: No, sir, just grass and some stones. They must've been small tracks. [ Silence. Bouquet seems pensive about something. ] Taureau: So it's a cognitohazard, then? Bouquet: Perhaps. Could you please forward all of these photographs to me? I'd like to take a closer look at them. Cochon: No problem, sir, gimme just a moment. [ Cochon sends him the photos. Bouquet thanks Iota-44 for their work and suggests they get some beers on the house, then departs. ] Audio Log 02 of Director Bouquet I put the image in question on my computer and studied it for what must have been a solid hour, my eyes almost strained from the effort and my body sore and stiff. This picture was the ghost of a past long forsaken, and I knew that nobody else in the world would believe me. Nobody living, at any rate. I took a break to walk around, clear my head, and get something hot to drink. In my perambulations, I began to think of my father. I thought about what a stranger the man had been to me, how little I had seen of him as I had grown up, how much of an obligation I must have been for him. He was never cruel or cross, but he usually treated me as less of a son and more of a duty, something he needed to do once a week because a judge told him. Sometimes we'd get along all right, but other times, we'd barely exchange a few sentences in the span of an hour. He rarely prodded too deeply into my life, and I rarely did the same. He had another family to attend to, and I suppose…I wasn't as much of a priority. Kind of messes a kid up a little when their parents do that. He did have one obsession, though, and he shared it with me sometimes, whenever he was in the mood. I used to bring it up a lot when I was a boy, but I almost never mentioned it after I went off to university. It became embarrassing whenever he talked about it, like a part of him still wanted to treat me like a child even though I was studying for a PhD. He'd go on about his destiny, or the family legacy, and how he wanted me to pick it up for him when he got too old for it. He'd show me drawings, diagrams, coats-of-arms, maps, old manuscripts, sour books that stank of age… Normally I just tuned it out. Occasionally I'd humor him and get an earful, and then he'd prod me about getting married, having kids, keeping the tradition alive. I just dismissed him and said that my work kept me too busy for that sort of thing. Obviously I never went into detail about the kind of work I did — I'd just say "at the lab" or "at the university", and give him some vague tidbits here and there. A few years ago, I resolved to tell him everything when the time was right, but… I finished my drink, disposed of it, and went back to work. As I studied the photograph again, I couldn't help but think to myself, "Dad would have really gotten a kick out of this." I contacted Cochon and asked if I could accompany him out in the field to investigate the area where those photos had been taken. He asked me how I was able to see something that nobody else could, but I brushed him off, muttering some halfhearted excuse about how I was more experienced with cognitohazards — that I'd been trained to withstand them or something. He seemed to buy it — the perks of being a Site Director, he assumed — and said that as long as I knew how to use a gun and wasn't too proud to follow his orders, then I could tag along. I agreed to his terms, though admitted that my marksmanship was rusty. I then rather spuriously wondered if Bodmall could accompany me as well. We got into a little spat about bringing extra security on what had essentially been a fruitless venture, and he reminded me that Iota-44 was more than capable of doing their job. I must've hurt his pride a little, or maybe he sensed that I didn't fully trust him. In any case, since I was upper brass, I got my way in the end, and we added another member to the crew. Bodmall seemed as apprehensive as Cochon, but went along with it, and spared little expense in making fun of my request during the journey. Enclosure: an edited transcription of the described period, as recorded by the aforementioned anonymous operative of Iota-44. Bodmall: What's the matter, boss? Can't take a walk in the country without me holding your hand? Bouquet: Would you rather stay cooped up in that lab, surrounded by eggheads and pencil-pushers? Bodmall: Hey, some of my closest friends. [ laughs ] [ A long period of silence follows. The vehicle stops to allow local farmers and their livestock to pass. ] Bouquet: I trust you. [ Bodmall is silent. The operative has gone on record to state that she "appeared reverent". ] Audio Log 03 of Director Bouquet We arrived several hours later, right before dusk settled. We'd have a few hours of light left before we'd need to make camp, so Iota-44 set up a perimeter while I was microchipped.1 Bodmall offered to hold my hand for the ordeal, but I assured her I'd be fine, and admitted I took the needle like a real champ. Now the Foundation would be able to track us wherever we went, providing we were still in one piece. With this cheery thought in mind, we began our preliminary search, splitting up into three teams, with Bodmall and Cochon in mine. The Captain guided me over to the location where Taureau had taken the photo, which had more or less been preserved. I immediately saw the tracks and rubbed my chin in deep contemplation. Enclosed: an edited transcription of the described investigation, as recorded by the aforementioned anonymous operative of Iota-44. Bouquet: Here. [ He kneels down, digging a square-shaped indentation in the ground with a knife. ] These are where the tracks are. Do you see them? Cochon: No, sir, I do not. Miss, do you see em'? Bodmall: No, but I'll take the Director's word for it. [ Cochon records a short video of the area and forwards it to the rest of Iota-44. Nobody sees anything out of the ordinary. Cochon sighs impatiently. ] Bouquet: Shall I take a psychiatric exam, Captain? Cochon: You're the Director, sir: you tell me. [ Bouquet appears frustrated. ] [ A member of Iota-44 suddenly falls over, followed by two more. ] Cochon: Down! Get down! [ Everyone lays flat on the grass as shots are heard. ] Cochon: Status! Renard: Under attack from an unknown assailant, sir! Cochon: Return fire! Bodmall, get em' outta here! [ Bodmall forcibly escorts Bouquet away from the skirmish. Bouquet stumbles several times; the ground erupts as explosives and heavy ordinance impact it. Bodmall is struck but manages to return fire; Bouquet is unresponsive. She yells at him, then pushes him away. ] Bodmall: Don't make me drag you, sir! Go! [ Bouquet hesitates briefly before successfully escaping. ] Audio Log 04 of Director Bouquet Useless. My feet may as well have been the roots of a tree. I neither fought nor fled, but froze, a paragon of idiocy. In my flimsy defense, I've never seen any real action during my tenure, so to be confronted with it so abruptly was jarring. I finally realized what Bodmall wanted me to do, however, and ran for my life. I hated leaving her and Iota-44 behind to deal with whatever had attacked us, but I was the only member of the group who wasn't expendable. My stomach churned with the sickness of adrenaline and cowardice as I bolted, muscles awakening after years of atrophy. I had been something of a sprinter in my youth and managed to account for myself before growing winded. My efforts took me to a thick, shaded forest, where I staggered and lurched, gasping helplessly, light-headed and dazed. I came across a little creek and recalled something about how water leads to civilization, and one should stick to it when one is lost, so I sat underneath a nearby tree and waited for my heart to stop hammering. It was almost dead silent. As my gasping calmed down, I checked my body for any injuries, finding myself whole and unhurt. As far as I knew, I was the only one who was safe — or even alive. Bodmall was tough, but that injury she sustained concerned me — and what about Cochon and his men? For that matter, who had attacked us, and why? The Foundation had a long list of enemies, so it could have been anybody. I convalesced in quandary for a long time. As I sat there by the bank, I heard a peculiar sound, and froze. Something was coming through the trees, heading straight for this same stream: something large, powerful, and inhuman. My body stiffened; I swallowed, waiting. And then… My skin prickled and eyes widened in astonishment. It slithered through the trees with the grace of a swan, four heavy legs hewing the grassy underbrush, limbs swollen with predatory strength. Its head stretched out, brazenly scouring its surroundings with apex confidence, cold eyes glowing gold, a slender fork periodically darting from its mouth. I was aghast as I watched it crawl to the stream, leaning over, taking a drink. One of its eyes fixed on me, and I flinched with a terror and a thrill I had never known before. I met its stare in awe, gripped with suspense and disbelief, so paralyzed that I couldn't even shudder. Finally it raised its long scaly neck, higher and higher until it nearly resembled a tree. Thunder shattered the sky and broke the silence. We stared at each other for a moment longer, until the sky broke open with rain. With it came a human voice, distantly shouting. The creature looked away and slithered off, as mysteriously as it arrived, accompanied by the sound of baying dogs. I swallowed and sat there dazed in the downpour — for how long, I couldn't say. Eventually I heard footsteps drawing near. I grabbed my sidearm and stood in a defiant panic, but it was only Bodmall. Note: The newest model of Foundation-issued microchips, supplied by a joint operation of Anderson Robotics and Prometheus Labs, allows the chip to link to visual and aural receptors via the nervous system, enabling recordings of everything field agents see and hear. The following is a record of what transpired once Bodmall located Director Bouquet. Bodmall: There you are, sir. I was afraid I had lost you for a second. Are you all right? Bouquet: Did you just see… [ Bouquet looks to the bank of the river, then back to Bodmall. ] Never mind. Where are the others? Bodmall: No idea. We're not safe out here. I found a little shack where we can wait out this rain. [ Bouquet follows Bodmall through the brush to a small shack. The remains of a much larger structure are close by, suggesting it had once been part of a habitation. Bodmall and Bouquet enter the shack, remove some clothes, and start a fire. ] Bouquet: Thanks for saving me back there. Bodmall: You would have done the same, sir. Bouquet: Obviously not. I can't believe I froze up. Cochon has every right to chew me out. Bodmall: I won't tell him. Just another embarrassing memory I get to keep. Bouquet: Thanks. [ A pause. Rainfall is heard in the background. ] How's your injury? Bodmall: My what? Oh. Not that bad. Stings a bit when I move. Bouquet: Do you mind if I take a look? [ Bodmall lifts her uniform, showing a reddish bruise on her back. She is not bleeding. ] Hmm, they weren't using bullets. I'm not a ballistics expert, but I'd say our unknown adversary had prepared to fight a different enemy when we came along. We may have even gotten caught in a crossfire unrelated to our mission. Bodmall: You can tell all that? Bouquet: Either that, or you tripped and fell. Bodmall: Sir, I was distinctly struck! And pardon my vulgarity, but it hurt like a bastard and a half. Bouquet: So should I hold your hand? Bodmall: [ snorts ] Sir! [ Bouquet laughs, and Bodmall eventually joins him. ] Bouquet: Do you have anything I could use to treat it? Bodmall: Just some basic supplies. Compresses, bandages, painkillers. [ Bouquet looks through Bodmall's supplies, taking out a small canister of petroleum jelly. ] Bouquet: Ah, good. This should help. It's probably just a first-degree burn. [ Bouquet applies the petroleum to Bodmall's wound. He then takes a wet article of clothing and uses it as a compress. ] Bodmall: [ hisses ] Aah! So how come you could see those tracks when nobody else could? Bouquet: Mmm? Do you believe me? It seemed Cochon didn't. Bodmall: You've never steered me wrong before, sir. [ A pause as the rain continues. ] Bouquet: It's a long, crazy story, and one I didn't even believe myself until today. Bodmall: I take it you don't actually have cognitohazardous training. Bouquet: I do, but this is something else — something ancient, and…personal. Bodmall: We've got time. And you did say you trusted me. Bouquet: It's not exactly a dark secret. Embarrassing, maybe. Bodmall: Oh, now you have to tell me. Bouquet: Hey, I'm your boss. I don't have to do anything. [ A pause. Thunder is heard. ] But it would pass the time. Just don't fall asleep on me. Bodmall: Oh, I'd never do that. [ The sound of rain continues. ] Bouquet: Tell me, Bodmall: how much do you know about Arthurian myth? Bodmall: You mean like the Sword in the Stone and all that? About as much as the average person, I'd say. Bouquet: Ah. Well. This is a story that began sixteen-hundred years ago, after the fall of the Roman Empire, during the so-called Dark Ages. One day, a young King Arthur, who was out hunting, came to a forest, much like this one. His horse had grown so exhausted from the hunt that it fell over dead, and he asked a nearby woodsman for a new one. As he waited, he sat by a pool, but was stirred out of his thoughts as a great, dreadful creature approached. Before Arthur could make sense of what was going on, the creature retreated. A King came riding up just then, and introduced himself as Pellinore. He claimed that it was his destiny to hunt the creature Arthur had seen. The two of them didn't exactly get off on the right foot, as they dueled so fiercely that Pellinore broke the very sword that Arthur had pulled from the stone. Luckily, the two men became close friends later, and together they united much of Britain under Camelot. Unfortunately, during one of those battles, Pellinore killed Arthur's uncle, King Lot, sparking a family feud that would result in his death — by Arthur's nephew Gawain, of all people. As for the beast, with Pellinore dead, it fell to his sons to pursue the creature, and their sons after them. Most versions of the Arthurian myth say that Sir Palomedes the Saracen picked up the quest, owing to his close relationship with Pellinore, and hunted it for the rest of his life. Scholars see the beast as an allegory of Palomedes's fruitless love for a Queen, whom he pined for but could never win. Others suggest the creature is symbolic of the chaos that would one day befall Camelot, as it was born of a taboo much the same way as Mordred, Arthur's son from his aunt, was, and that only by converting to Christianity could Palomedes be victorious. One rather obsessed lunatic even believed that the beast lives to this very day, and that only those from Pellinore's bloodline could hunt it, as that was their eternal destiny. Take from that what you will. Bouquet: Anyway, it's only a story, no matter how you slice it. Bodmall: So what does that have to do with you seeing those tracks? Bouquet: [ exhales deeply ] Some other time. Bodmall: Oh come on, sir! You can't leave me hanging like that! You could at least… [ silence ] Wait: do you think you're descended from this Pellinore guy? Bouquet: No. Definitely not. Bodmall: Then why were you the only one who saw those tracks? [ Bouquet remains silent. ] [ A loud rapping sound is heard from the shack door. Bodmall cautiously levels her rifle at the door and opens it. They both relax as they see Cochon on the other side. He is bruised, bleeding, disheveled, and gasping for air. ] Cochon: Good, you're all right. They've stopped fighting for now. Bouquet: Who? Cochon: The Chaos Insurgency and Horizon Initiative. That's who fired on us, though I have good reason to believe they had no idea we were in the area. God only knows the details. All I know is that we were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Bodmall: Did they just spring out of the ground or something? Why didn't you catch this sooner when you were sweeping the area? Cochon: Look, all I know is that we got caught with our pants down, two of my crew are K.I.A., one's wounded, and we've got a Site Director in hostile territory. Bodmall: So we get him out. Cochon: You catch on quick. I'll have someone escort him back to two seventy-eight while my people and I sort this shit out. Bodmall: I can take him. Cochon: No, you're more useful to me here. I'm glad you insisted on bringing her with you, Director. She can make up for my departed crew. Bodmall: But I— Cochon: Yeah, you got loyalty to your Director: I get it. But I need guns, quick wits, and people I can trust, and the Director here's vouched for all three. [ Bodmall looks at Bouquet, appalled. ] Bouquet: He's right, Bodmall. Just consider yourself a Norman Invader for the time being. Bodmall: I'd rather not, sir. My family's Cymru, and I could never live with myself if I did. No offense. [ Bouquet laughs. ] Cochon: Hmm? What's so funny? Bouquet: It's a Welsh thing, Captain.2 Nothing personal. . . . Audio Log 05 of Director Bouquet I assured them that they'd warm up to each other in no time, and we left the shack once Cochon's drivers arrived. It was still raining, but all things considered, that was the least of our concerns. I gave Bodmall a silent stare before parting ways with her; her gaze was like burning iron, and she nodded as we shared our unspoken accord. My return to Site-278 was unremarkable. It was late at night when I got back. My first priority was contacting the O5 Council and reporting on what had happened. I made myself some tea and typed up a summary of the day's events, whisking it away to several secretaries, who'd in turn forward the events to the Overseers. I didn't mentioned my encounter with the creature. I briefly wondered what sort of calamity would cause the Chaos Insurgency and Horizon Initiative to butt heads like that, but realized that this knowledge wouldn't really help me in my normal affairs, so I went back to work. I hit a wall thirty-five minutes in, worrying about Bodmall. Then I thought about my father. Where's Emile? Where is my son? No, I told myself. Work comes first. I can't protect anybody by dawdling. Is that still your excuse, a voice in my head asked me. I forced myself to finish one more paper. My tea was gone, and I didn't feel like making more, so I decided to clear my head. I went to my private bathroom and washed my face, inadvertently staring into the mirror as I dried off. Obviously, I saw myself reflected back — but there was also a bit of my father in that face, too. My mother always did hate how closely I resembled him, both in looks and mannerisms. Like that was ever my fault. I sighed. "What now?" I asked my reflection. "Get back to work," I answered, "simple as that." "Oh? And then what? More work?" "I'm a Director now; I have responsibilities." "That's always been your vanguard, hasn't it?" "I can't stop, can I?" "Not for anyone or anything, huh?" I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut. I must be losing my mind, I thought, talking to myself like this. I kept staring at the men in the mirror, though. "What do you want?" I wondered. I left the bathroom, shut the door, sat down, and worked for two solid hours. I noticed a reply from O5-11's secretary and opened it. The Overseer was "interested" in what I had experienced, and wanted to look into it further. They postulated that the area must have some religious significance for the Horizon Initiative to get involved, and promised to give me some details later. I replied back, adding that I'd have my own people do some digging. France and Corsica are saturated with religious history, dating back to the Celts and Vandals and Gauls and goodness knows who else. It could have been anything, so Site-278 would be very busy going forward. I got one final reply promising updates on Iota-44, with a "good luck, well done, keep it up" to cap it off. An hour later, shortly after midnight, I decided to turn in for the night and slipped into my private bunk. No going home for me today. . . . Audio Log 06 of Director Bouquet At first I didn't know I was dreaming, for the dreamer believes their world is real, and all sensations and experiences are real. Only rarely do they understand their situation, and either adapt or awaken. I came to my own realization slowly, even as I wandered through a thick mist, with a great blue sky above, passing underneath a rainbow archway. I was alone, and at first I thought I was walking on clouds. A large shape approached me, silent and gentle, almost indistinguishable from the billowing fog. It loomed over me, wisps of white smoke curling, formless yet distinct. I thought that it pointed at me, and then pointed at something else in the distance. The shape faded as I walked away from it, towards the area it had indicated. Another shape was there, long and thin, no less solid than its predecessor, and yet… I waited patiently, though for what, or why, I couldn't say. The first shape reappeared and was now definitely pointing at the second shape, which seemed to look at me. I reached out to touch it but it drew away. I retreated, and it followed me. I pursued it again, neither gaining nor losing it. This venture seemed to please the first shape, and it fused itself into the second shape until they were one. My eyes widened in terrifying delight as I beheld what they had become, recognizing it even though I couldn't remember it when I woke. I had never taken much stock in dreams, but perhaps the previous day's events had affected me, and I was undergoing some subconscious fear, or desire. I decided to attend to yesterday's most incredible event first, and spuriously wrote up a mock SCP Document on it. I took out a sheet of paper and a pencil, and began scribbling.3 Item #: SCP-# Special Containment Procedures: SCP-# is currently uncontained. MTF Whatever (Iota-44?) is assigned to locate and detain SCP-#. Cooperation with Site-278 regarding this missive is ongoing. SCP-# was last detected near the Navarren border of France and Spain. Description: SCP-# refers to a chimerical entity originating in the United Kingdom, commonly refered to as a I hesitated. Did I dare delude myself? A part of me wanted to throw the paper away and make breakfast so I could get back to work, but…I knew this thing had to come out. I could shove it aside as much as I wanted, but it would always come back, louder and stronger than before. It was inextricably a part of me. I assured myself that none of this would be taken seriously, that this was for my own amusement and nothing else — a diversion, a lark. I still hesitated. "Come on, Emile," I whispered, hearing my father's voice. "Call it what it is. Write it. Say it. Confront it." …commonly referred to as a QUESTING BEAST. I shuddered, sighing, sinking into myself. The deed was done. I had now acknowledged a part of my life that, long ago, I had turned my back on. I felt nauseous — but my chest was light. It was as though great iron bands had been loosened around me, and I laughed in spite of my fear. "Fuck it," I grunted as I glared at my writing. "May as well finish the rest." The entity naturally emits a cognitohazardous sensory field that prohibits nearly all perception of it. It does not affect auditory sensations, however, and has been described as sounding like "a pack of dogs barking". "It's just for fun," I swore to myself. "It's just for fun, just an exorcism. I'm just writing it to get it out in the open and be done with it. It's therapy. It doesn't have to be real. It's silly. Fuck it." DIRECTOR L. EMILE BOUQUET is able to fully perceive the entity, through methods "currently unknown". Bouquet has described the creature as I thought back to my dream. Back to that moment in the forest. Back to all the pictures dad showed me. I'd never forget what it looked like, even if my mind was wiped clean. It was in my blood. …having the head and neck of a serpent, the body of a leopard, the haunches of a lion, and the feet of a deer, and estimates it to be 3 meters in length and 1.5 meters in height, with an unknown weight. Addendum: Director Bouquet can see it because his father was a neglectful selfish prick who only treated him like a son whenever he felt like it. The man spent more time with his other family and left Emile without a real father figure. Emile grew up with an absent stranger for a father and resented him his whole life. I sighed. Why should I? He didn't even visit ME when I was in the hospital! His "other" family can take care of him. Besides, I'm busy with work. He'll be fine.4 Hello, Lam — Emile. Sorry. It's your dad. Uh, they tell me you may not be able to make it. I hope you can, but if you can't… I just want to thank you for all the times you've helped me. I'm sorry if I imposed too much on you. It's your life, not mine. I hope you have a good one. I'm proud of what you've become. Uh, I guess that's it. I love you.5 My family hasn't spoken to me since. Delete, delete, delete… Addendum 2: Bouquet can perceive the QUESTING BEAST because his father, Frederick Bouquet, believed he was descended from KING PELLINORE, and it was his destiny, and his son's destiny, and the destiny of his descendants, to pursue the creature, forever. "And that's it," I said, folding the paper up. I put it in my drawer and went back to work. "Arthur and the Questing Beast" by Henry Justice Ford . . . Audio Log 07 of Director Bouquet Nine days passed before I got any updates on Bodmall and Iota-44. Apparently the Battle of Roncevaux Pass, where Charlemagne had met his greatest defeat, had been transported to the modern era, in the exact location where it had originally taken place. The events played out precisely as they had over thirteen-hundred years ago, with a Basque army attacking the king's rearguard, cutting them off and wiping them out. When the skirmish concluded, a period of some days passed before it repeated itself. The Horizon Initiative had wanted to lay claim to Durandal, Charlemagne's famous sword, as well as the king's champion, Roland, and even the king himself. The Chaos Insurgency had merely wanted to put an end to the temporal loop, likely as a token of goodwill towards the GOC. Why they suddenly wanted to get on the Coalition's good side was still unknown, though the Overseers hypothesized that a much grander joint operation was on the Insurgency's mind. This was clearly upsetting, but for the time being, the Foundation decided to remain neutral in the conflict, only quarantining the area away from the general public. Well, stranger things, I suppose. All this and a Questing Beast to consider. Bodmall was returned to me three days after I received this news, and Iota-44 was given a week's leave before their next assignment. As my own gesture of goodwill, I offered to buy Cochon and his team a round at the pub of their choice, so I was fairly occupied one sordid evening. The next day, it was business as usual. I was still curious about the creature I had encountered, but wondered if it was wise to bring it up to the Overseers. A cognitohazard that only I could see? Sure, that doesn't sound suspicious at all. I decided to wait until the matter of the looping temporal anomaly was resolved before making any further moves — after all, Site-278 was already busy with their normal affairs. Deep down I knew this was just my way of distancing myself from the matter, just as I had done so many times before. This whole affair was like a wound that kept opening, sometimes of my own volition, and I knew that if I didn't resolve it one way or another, I'd end up a derelict mess. But it wasn't as though I could ask for anyone's advice. The only person who'd be of any help to me… I requested a brief leave of absence around the middle of the month, and was granted three days. Then I did the stupidest thing imaginable, and went back to the place where I had first encountered the creature. Any sign of it had long since faded. The fields were unmolested, the forest serene and aloof. The locals were more concerned with rumors of the "ghostly battles", and any sound of baying dogs came from pets or strays. I had lost it. Or maybe I had only been losing my mind, and had become trapped in delusions, consumed by guilt and regret after thinking about my father so much. Perhaps I had only imagined those tracks, and had envisioned a monster where there was none. Working with the Foundation messes with your mind in ways no hallucinogen could hope to match; perhaps I really did just need a break to cool off and unwind. Now that I was thinking a bit more clearly, I had to laugh a little. How silly, to think that a cognitohazard got to choose who could perceive it and who couldn't! I'd honestly appreciate that; we'd be able to understand more anomalies that way. I resolved to spend the rest of my days in peace and relaxation, forgetting my troubles for awhile. Audio Log 08 of Director Bouquet A few days after I returned, the situation in Roncevaux escalated: an invisible force had thrown itself into the fray, attacking people on both sides. As the Foundation didn't want the Veil of Secrecy to be torn down any more than it already was — or just as likely, for the Global Occult Coalition to get involved and turn this into an ugly war — they decided to finally intervene. Iota-44 would be joined by Eta-10, the team that specialized in cognitohazards, as well as Eta-77, who dealt with religious anomalies. I wasn't too surprised when Cochon requested my assistance in the endeavor. He must've felt that the sudden appearance of this new anomaly was related to the tracks that I had seen — or else thought of me as a specialist. I guess that's what I get for making up little white lies, but I accepted his request. Something in the back of my mind told me that this was no coincidence. In an unusual reversal, Cochon insisted that Bodmall accompany me, while I was hesitant. I felt that as head of security for Site-278, she didn't need to be involved in this any more. We already had plenty of backup, and while Bodmall was competent enough, this was something beyond her expertise. Apparently "expertise" is exactly why Cochon wanted her along. Not only had she been present for the initial investigation, but had worked alongside Iota-44 afterwards, and frankly, knew the situation between the Insurgency and Horizon better than anyone else coming into it, including me. It was still my say at the end, but I must admit, I had a considerable amount of bias as I acceded to his request. Together our sizeable convoy drove through the French countryside, as Cochon and the Captains of Eta-10 and 77 convened to go over the plan. We'd send word to the Insurgency and Horizon of our arrival and make clear our intent. The Foundation would not become involved with the temporal anomaly, or the parties laying claim to it; they would only quietly slip in, steal away with the second anomaly, and deal with it on their own terms. Of course, none of us expected this plan to go smoothly, but order were orders — and it was the best chance we had. The message was sent. We didn't get a response. Audio Log 09 of Director Bouquet None of us were expecting a warm welcome when we arrived. Cochon warned us that the Insurgency and Horizon might forget about this latest threat and end up mowing us down instead. You'd think watching your people getting killed by an unseen entity would've endowed them with a bit of sense. I said as much; Cochon shrugged, spat, and grumbled something about human nature. Things got uncomfortably quiet after that. Eventually he cleared his throat and informed me that I'd be with Eta-10, trying to root this problem out. Eta-77 and Iota-44 would be responsible for keeping everyone off our backs. We weren't there to fight, he emphasized, even though his eyes burned like hot coals: "but you can damn well bet we'll retaliate if we have to." I turned to the Captain of Eta-10, a woman named Mishima with a scar on her forehead, entrusting her with my life. She returned the favor by entrusting me with their success. No pressure. Our convoy halted about half a kilometer away from the main battle; I was given binoculars and told to scan around. All I saw were tanks, mechanical suits, armaments, foot soldiers, infantry, explosions, flashes of light, smoke, fire, mayhem. Occasionally I'd get a glimpse of a Basque platoon skirmishing with Frankish soldiers, antiquated cavalry charging, the glint of armor. My skin crawled with primeval pleasure as I heard Roland's horn sounding, and I had to restrain myself from joining the fray. I told Mishima what I saw. "What about the second anomaly?" she said. "Nothing so far," I admitted. I continued my vigil, trying to pick up on anything unusual. I thought I saw something odd in the distance and had just looked away to alert Mishima when the chilling scream of a missile broke our stakeout. Voices screamed for us to take cover; Mishima tackled me to the ground, covering me from the blizzard of dust and mortar and flame. The impact was nowhere near our position but the shockwaves still rattled my bones and sent my ears ringing. I wondered if I'd choke again if ordered to retreat — but I never got to find out, as Mishima screamed for us to hold our ground. An improvised barrier was put up and the Captain roared at me to get back to work. "We find this thing and capture it today, ladies!" she bellowed. Another missile fell out of the sky, closer to our position. The barriers held; my stomach and eardrums weren't so lucky. I glared hotly through the binoculars, trying to steady my shaky hands as the fighting drew closer to our position. Damn it, I thought, can't they take this somewhere else? Intermingled with the whistling and blaring artillery were the shouts and screams of the two adversary forces. I got so used to hearing this as I searched for our invisible prize that I didn't notice how loud they had gotten until it burst into our encampment. Chaos Insurgents were scattering wildly, gurgling and choking on terror, their ranks broken and disorganized. I had half a second to take all this in before a monstrous shape dredged from ancient legend bounded across the battlefield, flattening two soldiers with its hooves, its neck coiled around a third, crushing them to death. Their blood seeped out like juice from a squeezed fruit; I covered my mouth lest I vomit — or scream. In a flash they were partways in the mouth of the monster, its scales undulating as it swallowed its prey whole. I could do nothing but stare, first in abject horror, then in wonder. Everything seemed to stand still in that instant. The fighting had broken, the screams silenced, the calamity put on hold, all so that I could behold the creature. It was the exact same chimera I had seen at the river, in my father's books, in the legends passed down for centuries. It was real, nakedly real, an aberration tearing down all the assurances and reasoning I had built up around me. It was my father, pointing at me. It was my past, brought into my present. It was a wound ripped open. It was my dread, and my desire. I couldn't move, or even think: I could only stare at it, just as it stared at me. I mechanically took a step forward. The Questing Beast shirked back. I took another step. It leaped away, not out of fright but defiance. I took one more step and was thrown to the ground. One of Mishima's people shielded my body as shrapnel tore through him. "Did you find it?!" Mishima shrieked. I was too stunned to do anything. When I looked up, the creature had run off. Its absence burst the dam. "There!" I called, my hand burrowing past my savior's bloody shoulder. "It went that way!" "On me!" Mishima called, rallying her forces. She had someone tend to the wounded man, told me not to worry about him, and followed me as I ran after the creature. The war kept up with us for what seemed like hours, every step a brush with death as we wove our way through hostile territory. We pressed on, heedless; I was insane with terror and awe and foolish desire. I found the Beast's tracks and took to them like a bloodhound. I became blind and deaf to the world, laser-focused, literally following in the footsteps of Pellinore, Palomedes, my ancestors, my father. So did Sir Palomedes ever catch it? No… In fact, it's still running around to this day. Why hasn't anyone caught it yet? One day, you'll understand. Audio Log 10 of Director Bouquet The tracks led us into a small ghost town, little more than a cluster of derelict structures. Mishima's people spread out and formed a perimeter, most of them armed with devices that could block, counter, or bypass cognitohazardous effects; a few even had Scranton Reality Anchors. Mishima and three of her people stayed with me as I resumed the hunt. We had a few close calls as I scurried under a brittle archway, or dashed across a weathered bridge, or skirted around a windmill that had toppled over diagonally. One of Mishima's people mentioned how Don Quixote had won a victory after all, which had me pause long enough to smile. Eventually we came to a long-disused cathedral, and fool that I was, I nearly rushed into my death. A shot fired off, impacting only a meter away from my feet. I jumped back and looked up at the steeple, seeing the glint of a sniper rifle in the broken stained glass. Mishima shouted for them to hold their fire and identified herself. The sniper opened up a comm channel, and my blood nearly froze as I recognized the voice on the other side. "Sorry about that, Captain. Me and a few of the Invaders were driven here by the enemy. I…I'm glad I just used a warning shot. Please tell me I didn't almost kill Director Bouquet." "I don't know whether to fire you or promote you, Bodmall," I shouted. She grumbled, cursing and apologizing. I told her to shut up and let us in. It took them awhile to remove the barricades; Bodmall had us take cover as she scared off several stray enemies. By the time the last of us slipped through, I had been handed a gun and fought off at least three Insurgents. Bodmall was aghast and pale as she locked eyes with me. "You're never gonna let me live this down, are you?" she said, tremulous. I told her to forget about it, there were more important concerns at stake, and quickly caught her up on the situation. She told me she hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary, aside from Basque pikemen chasing Frankish cavalry, and had only been holed up in this cathedral for about an hour. Mishima took a moment to radio the other Captains about the situation, ordering them to rendezvous with us. Once she finished her transmission, I asked her what the plan was. We could hide out here and wait, but we'd risk being discovered by the enemy, and the trail would grow cold by then, if it hadn't already. She decided to hold up for a few more minutes and had me climb to a higher vantage point to see if I could pick up where the trail went. Halfway up the first flight, I stumbled, as the cathedral was shattered by an explosion. "Outside, on the double!" I heard Mishima rallying everyone as the cathedral shuddered. Parts of it were already collapsing. I had just enough time to get my bearings before a section of the roof fell, missing me by an arm's length. I coughed, stumbling around blindly, trying to keep my balance as the world tossed and tumbled below me. I made my way through an opening and took a moment to catch my breath. Mishima's people were vacating the area; I also saw Cochon's people mixed in, some returning fire at an unseen foe. I thought I had escaped the worst of it when I realized that Bodmall was no longer with us. I peered around to be sure, calling her name; it was then that I heard someone cursing and groaning from inside the cathedral. Panicking, I ran back inside and saw Bodmall rolling on the ground, knocked completely off balance. I made for her but was tossed about by another explosion. The roof finally collapsed, along with most of the walls. After that, I have no recollection: all I know is that I got out alive. Enclosed: an audiovisual feed transmitted from Director Bouquet's microchip implant. [ Distant gunfire and shouts are heard, gradually growing quieter. A brief silence follows before groaning is heard. Debris is dislodged and removed as the groaning becomes louder. A heap of brittle tiles and planks shifts as visuals are restored. Director Bouquet rises from the pile, moaning. He checks himself for damage, then calls out to Bodmall, but gets no response. He sifts through the wreckage, calling out for her sporadically. He finally spots her arm stretched out from a pile of wood and shingles, and hastily begins to dig. Eventually, he is able to pull her unresponsive body from the wreckage. ] Bouquet: Bodmall! [ He shakes her firmly. There is no response. ] Bodmall! Come on, Bodmall, wake up! Please. Please wake up. Don't be dead. No…no. Bodmall. [ Bouquet begins to panic, hyperventilate, and heavily perspire. He hesitates. ] Iseult. Iseult, please don't die. Please don't die, please, Iseult. Iseult! I'm begging— [ A faint grunt is heard, followed by coughing. ] Bodmall: Now I know how the Wicked Witch of the East felt. [ Bouquet laughs with relief and embraces her. ] Bouquet: That was too close. Bodmall: Tell me about it. [ coughs ] Ow. Guess I'm entitled to some worker's comp. [ Bouquet laughs softly as Bodmall slowly sits up. ] Hey, I guess this makes us even. Bouquet: How so? Bodmall: I saved your life, now you saved mine. Like I [ coughs ] said, you would've done the same. Ow. Bouquet: I guess so. Can you move? Bodmall: Not far. I probably broke a few bones. Um… [ She attempts to stand, winces in pain, and sits down. ] Nope, nope, nope. Sorry. My right leg's giving me hell. Bouquet: Here, let me help. I know it hurts, but we need to get out of here. No telling when the rest of this place is going to collapse. Bodmall: What about [ hisses in pain ] you, sir? Are you hurt? Bouquet: Just some cuts and bruises. I'm running on too much adrenaline to feel anything. [ Bouquet helps her stand, and together they attempt to leave. They manage to escape the cathedral, but neither MTF is in sight. Bodmall requests they rest, so they hobble over to a pile of stones and sit on them. A burst pipe leaking a solid stream of water is nearby. Bouquet helps Bodmall remove her helmet, washing her face and hair. The sound of shouting and gunfire silences. ] Bouquet: It sounds like they've stopped fighting. [ Bodmall appears embarrassed. ] What's wrong? Are you upset at me? Bodmall: No… I just don't like my name, is all. It makes me sound like an old woman. Bouquet: That's silly! Besides, it's a lovely name. [ Bodmall scoffs ] It's the name of a Queen. [ silence ] Bodmall: You know, some kids couldn't even pronounce my name, so I asked everyone to call me "Izzy" growing up. Most people just assumed it was short for — ow — Isadora, which I wish it was. You know, like Isadora Duncan. Bouquet: You'd rather be associated with a dancer than a Queen? Bodmall: Hey, I didn't know I was named after a Queen until you told me. Bouquet: At least your name is dignified. Want to know my first name? Bodmall: Sure, I've always wondered what the "L" stood for. Bouquet: It's Lamerok. Lamerok Emile Bouquet. Bodmall: [ snickers ] Limerick? Bouquet: LAMM-err-ock. And if you think Iseult is a joke, imagine being called Lame-rack for most of your childhood. I had to ask everyone to address me as Emile so I wouldn't get bullied. Bodmall: You have my sympathies, sir. [ Chuckles faintly, then cringes in pain. Bouquet grumbles. ] So where does a name like Lamerok come from, anyway? Is it Irish? Bouquet: No, British, I think. He's one of King Pellinore's sons. Bodmall: Oh! That's the guy you told me about in your story — the one who was hunting that monster! So was Lamerok — aah, damn, that hurts — was he supposed to go after it when his father was killed? Bouquet: I suppose. Either he or one of his brothers, Aglovale and Percival. Oh wait, not him; Percival was destined to go after the Grail. [ silence ] There I go, rambling about nonsense. [ Bodmall smiles, appearing impressed. The sound of footsteps and shouts are heard in the background. ] Ah, looks like help has arrived, hopefully. Bodmall: You think it may be the enemy? Bouquet: Probably not, but just in case… [ Bouquet produces the firearm he was loaned. ] Let's hope it wasn't damaged. Do you have yours? Bodmall: No, I lost it when a cathedral fell on me. It happens. Bouquet: [ chuckles ] Excuses, excuses. [ a pause ] Maybe it's for the best. You look like a stiff breeze could knock you over. Bodmall: [ cringes in pain ] Sir, you know I'd defend you to my dying breath. Bouquet: Do you want me to tie you to a rock so you can die on your feet? Bodmall: What? Bouquet: [ sighs ] Never mind. Just referencing another story that my father told me. [ a long silence ] Bodmall: I'd like to hear more about it. Once we're out of here, I mean. [ Remants of Iota-44 and Eta-10 appear, to their relief. They escort Bodmall and Bouquet to the mobile medical unit. ] . . . Southern Clinic of Parisian Medical Services Acct#: ██████████ Presiding Doctor: J.M. Breaux Patient: Bodmall, Iseult M. Age: 36 Gender: F Chief Security Officer for Site-278. Diagnosis: Broken right tibia. Broken right clavicle and scapula. Broken left ulna. One broken rib, four fractured ribs. Multiple minor contusions & lacerations. Prognosis: Patient is to be treated at Parisian M.S. until further notice. Patient: Bouquet, L. Emile Age: 43 Gender: M Director of Site-278. Diagnosis: Fractured left clavicle. Two fractured ribs. Fractured left radius. Multiple minor contusions & lacerations. Minor smoke inhalation. Prognosis: Patient is to be treated at Parisian M.S. until further notice. By order of O5-11, patient is to be given top-priority treatment. SCP-████ used, results successful. Patient released. . . . Report from Iota-44 Captain L. Cochon: Situation on Navarren border de-escalating in favor of C.I., inquire Cpt. Sult of Eta-77 for further details. 8 dead, 14 wounded, including Dir. Bouquet and C.S.O. Bodmall. Anomaly (temporarily classified 278-G) currently uncontained, whereabouts unknown. [Update] Dir. Bouquet released, assigned to relocate anomaly #278-G. Eta-10 and Iota-44 assisting. Bouquet currently researching anomaly #278-G, first stop was the former domicile of his father. Took action to remove & amnesticize current residents. Confiscated a number of materials related to anomaly #278-G, i.e., books, maps, charts, accounts, etc. Present location: town of Langon, outside Bordeaux. [Update] Dir. Bouquet provided an SCP Document for anomaly #278-G, reclassifying it with Overseer approval. ENCLOSED Close Document Item #: SCP-8089 Special Containment Procedures: MTF Eta-10 (See No Evil) and Iota-44 (Norman Invaders) are currently assigned to locate and detain SCP-8089. Cooperation with Site-278 regarding this missive is ongoing. SCP-8089 mainly resides in the United Kingdom but has been detected on the Navarren border between France and Spain, and may also reside in Germany, Ireland, Italy, and northern Portugal. Description: SCP-8089 refers to a chimerical entity originating in the Isle of Anglesey, Wales, United Kingdom. The entity naturally emits a cognitohazardous sensory field that prohibits nearly all perception of it. It does not affect auditory sensations, however, and has been described as sounding like a pack of baying hounds. Persons sharing direct familial history with Site-278 Director Bouquet are able to fully perceive the entity, through methods currently unknown. Bouquet has described the creature as having the head and neck of a serpent, the body of a leopard, the haunches of a lion, and the feet of a deer, and estimates it to be three meters in length and one point five meters in height, with an unknown weight. [Update] Dir. Bouquet's physical and mental well-being deteriorating, necessitating forced rest. Resumed study & pursuit two days later. [Update] Dir. Bouquet's physical and mental condition worsening. Sent request to O5 Council to abandon pursuit. Request denied. Contacted western European branches of Foundation for assistance. [Update] Dir. Bouquet's condition completely prohibits him from pursuing SCP-8089. Taken to Foundation hospital for physical examination. Residing doctor forwarded results to Overseer Council. Eta-10 and Iota-44 expanded search area using information gathered by Bouquet. [Update] Dir. Bouquet released one week later. Resumed pursuit into Spain & Portugal. [Update] Dir. Bouquet's condition critical. Sent second request to O5 Council to abandon pursuit. Request pending. [Update] Situation on Navarren border resolved in favor of C.I., Roncevaux anomaly presumed neutralized. Foundation diverted resources to studying the area, pursuit of SCP-8089 halted indefinitely. Dir. Bouquet recalled to Site-278. Iota-44 and Eta-10 given a week's leave before reassignment. —Luis Cochon, Mobile Task Force Iota-44, S.C.P. Foundation . . . Audio Log 11 of Director Bouquet Yes, this is an obsession. Yes, this is unhealthy. But the wound is fully opened now and will never heal. I can't stop myself. I have to find it. Have to get back on track. I've put too much of my time in this to back out now. It… [ sighs ] You win, dad! Okay? Is that what you want to hear? That you were right? That I'm some idiotic drone who'll follow his so-called "destiny" if he's pushed hard enough? Is this about me not coming to see you when you were dying? Huh? Are you the specter at my shoulder now? Is this your way of making me feel guilty from beyond the grave?! [ silence ] God, I need help. I'm completely losing my mind. I saw it that day, I swear! I watched as the Beast attacked those Chaos Insurgents, and swallowed one of them whole. I saw it with my own eyes. How delirious could I possibly be to make up something like that? I… I want to find this thing. I need to. For closure, for my job, for my father, I don't care. It doesn't matter. It just needs to be done so I can move on with my life. But nobody ever catches the Questing Beast. The best knights of the Round Table couldn't bring it to heel. [ sighs ] Damn it, listen to me. I'm forty-three years old and talking about stupid myths and legends. I'm really losing it. But what other choice do I have? If I leave it alone it'll just fester. But I can't catch it either; I haven't even found a single clue in all this time. So what the hell am I supposed to do, huh? Dad? Answer me, you ass! What am I supposed to do?! [ a long silence ] What do I want to do? I just want to see it. One more time. To know I'm not going insane — or if I am, to know that it's for a good reason. I want… [ silence ] I wish Iseult were here. Heh. Heh, heh. [ laughs weakly ] Iseult! The Queen Palomedes could never have. It's just a coincidence, Lamerok. Plenty of people have that name. Just a fucking stupid coincidence. [ silence ] But I do wish she were here. [ singing ] No one in the world ever gets what they want, and that is beautiful… Note: Two days after Cochon filed his report, Director Bouquet booked an unauthorized flight to Holyhead, on the Isle of Anglesey in northwest Wales, U.K. When detained by Foundation agents, Bouquet claimed he was still in pursuit of SCP-8089, believing it to reside in the area. Bouquet underwent psychological counseling before being released and returned to Site-278, where he was put under temporary house arrest. Security footage from 17/4/24 Close [Time: Nine days into Director Bouquet's house arrest. Morning. Bouquet is in his office, quietly going through paperwork. A knock is heard at his door; it opens to reveal Senior Researcher Phillipe Offet.] Offet: Morning, sir. Bouquet: Ah, good morning, Offet. I've got your papers here. [ He hands Offet a folder. ] Offet: You finished them, and three days ahead of schedule. Very nice. Bouquet: I've had lots of time to catch up. Would you care for some tea? Offet: Thank you. [ A pause as they both drink. ] Oh, just so you know, the outside world hasn't burned down yet. Bouquet: [ laughs softly ] That's good to hear. [ An alarm suddenly goes off. ] Offet: Or has it? [ laughs awkwardly ] Bouquet: Don't worry, it's just another drill. Excuse me. [ He turns on the Public Announcement system. ] Attention, this is Director Bouquet. There has been a containment breach. All exits and entrances to Site Two Seventy-Eight have been sealed. All faculty and staff, remain calm and proceed to your designated safe rooms until further notice. Security teams will handle the rest. Repeat, [truncated]. [ Bouquet turns his monitor off and resumes drinking. ] Offet: You're not overseeing the drill? Bouquet: Not today. I need to see what my staff can do if I'm cut off from them. They'll check in with me once they've cleared it. Offet: What if they don't? Bouquet: Well, they have forty-five minutes. After that, the Site is considered lost, one-hundred percent casualty rate. So far that's only happened two times. Offet: Mmm. You know, your predecessor failed two drills: her first and her last. She claimed she failed them on purpose, to give her staff an idea of what happens when they lose. People tend to remember their failures more than their successes. Bouquet: Isn't that the truth… [ Bouquet drinks and watches various security feeds. ] Offet: Are you still thinking about Roncevaux? Or SCP-8089? Bouquet: Is it that obvious? A part of me is honestly relieved. I had no idea how badly I was deteriorating until I was forcibly restrained in a bed, straps and all. I'd never gone after anything with such zeal before. I… It sounds strange, Offet, but as dogged as I was, I was also…completely happy. Happier than I can ever remember being. It felt like I had a real purpose in life, and I… I don't know how to describe it. It was the ultimate desire and I chased it with everything I had, even to my detriment. And now I'm here. Offet: Sounds…ambivalently complex. Bouquet: Oh, it was that, and more than I can say. It was horror and fun, bliss and torment, teetering on the edge of salvation and destruction, without a care in the world where I'd fall. Ha! If I had even half a clearance from the Overseers, I'd run out the door right now, to hell with my duties and this drill. Selfish. [ He pauses to finish his drink. ] And foolish. Offet: Would it even be possible for you to get that clearance, though? [ Bouquet looks away from the video feed. ] Bouquet: I honestly don't know. Maybe I missed the one opportunity I had. Maybe if I had kept going after it, just a little bit more… Offet: Sounds like a nasty thorn in your side. Or an addiction. Bouquet: Hence all the work I've been doing. It's an effective remedy for temptation. [ He returns to observing the video feed. ] Hmm, they're having some difficulty. Normally Bodmall is there to guide them, but she's still in the hospital. Offet: When do they expect to release her? Bouquet: Oh, sometime next week, or so I hear. They tell me she's anxious to get back to work. I'd hoped she'd rest a little more; she hasn't had a vacation in two years, you know. Offet: So give her one. Bouquet: I can't force it on her, she needs to ask for it. Married to her job, though, just like me. Offet: [ softly ] I wonder… [ A long silence follows as the two men observe the security team through video feeds. A green light flashes on Bouquet's monitor. ] Bouquet: Ah, there we go. Twenty-four minutes, thirty-one seconds. A bit slow, but acceptable. Our record's just under nine minutes. Offet: Looks like they did just fine without their leaders. Bouquet: Well, they're not insects; they've been trained to handle most issues regardless of command. Excuse me. (over the P.A. system) Attention, this is Director Bouquet. The security breach has been resolved successfully. Faculty and staff may exit their safe rooms and resume their activities. All maintenance teams are to report to their assigned areas for cleanup. This has been a drill. Repeat: [truncated]. Thank you for your cooperation. Offet: One down, two to go. Is it too heavy-handed to advise you to "hang in there"? Bouquet: Not at all, just so long as I don't do it from a gallows. Offet: [ laughs quietly ] Well, thanks again for the expedience. I'll see you around, sir. Bouquet: Hmm, well, it's not as though I can leave. Later. . . . Audio Log 12 of Director Bouquet A month passed. Bodmall returned to Site-278 in good health and good spirits, and life went on as usual. We completed our drills, performed studies, contained anomalies, filled out paperwork, ate, slept, washed up, and did it all over again. It was…normal. And painful. I debated going out once my house arrest was lifted. There had been a betting pool among my coworkers on how long I'd last before I cracked and threw myself outside in hysterics to continue my mad quest. Nobody had wagered I'd last the entire time. I hung the chart in my office out of spite, or perhaps pride, and made sure to discipline everyone involved. If they had the time to waste on this, how much more work could they… [ sighs ] Hello, Kettle. I'm Mr. Pot. They had an escort drive me home the first time I went outside, and they were there to pick me up the next morning. I guess they still didn't trust me, even after I had served my time. I understand their line of thinking, but how could they understand mine? To even begin to comprehend what I was feeling, what I had experienced… But at times I barely understood it myself. As the days rolled by, I wondered if it really was some psychosomatic trick, the seed of insanity nurtured by my father's fancies and my sporadic, even prodigal relationship with him. To this day, a part of me wishes that I could've had a real relationship with him, that he had been there for me, cared about me, beyond his weekly two-hour visits. Had I wanted there to be a Questing Beast to stand in for him, and conjured it up out of pure need? And now, here I am, chasing it feverishly, doomed to never grasp it, only to yearn. A few more days passed. I decided to visit my father's grave. My escort stopped the car before they got halfway to the cemetery. They explained that they had just received word of Horizon agents in the area, likely hunting down stray Chaos Insurgents. Probably still sore about losing Roncevaux, trying to salvage what they could. We weren't in any immediate danger, but I'd have to abandon my plans for the moment. I sighed and acceded, whispering an apology to my father. We had barely been moving for a few minutes before we were attacked. Note: in the interest of accuracy, Bouquet's account of the events in question will temporarily shift to the recording made by his microchip implant. [ Bouquet and three Site-278 escorts (Boule, Lorimar, and Soniere) are riding together on the dirt road when they are ambushed by fourteen members of the Horizon Initiative. They attempt to flee, but the car's tires are blown out. Bouquet is ordered to get down as his escorts fire out the car's windows. ] [ Screaming is heard. Bouquet looks out the back window and gasps. A very faint barking sound is heard. Eight Horizon agents are terminated in a matter of seconds; cause of death is unknown. The remaining agents retreat; Boule and Soniere pursue them while Lorimar remains. ] Lorimar: Stay here in the car, sir! Bouquet: [ muttering ] Not this time… Not this time… [ He attempts to leave. ] Lorimar: Sir, I'm permitted to restrain you by force if nec— [ Lorimar screams, all contact is cut off. Bouquet runs away from the car, toward the cemetery. He continues muttering "Not this time." ] [ Shots are heard. A brief silence follows. ] Bouquet: Did they get it? [ Bouquet continues to run, pausing intermittently to catch his breath. During one break, he looks at the ground, whispering "Ah, they did get you. I can see your blood." He is eventually seen passing through the cemetery gates. He pauses approximately twenty meters away from a grave marked "Frederick Bouquet". ] Audio Log 13 of Director Bouquet There it was, curled up in helpless dignity next to my father's grave, lowing and whining softly. It didn't move, except to breathe, its spotted hide expanding and contracting rhythmically, the forked tongue darting out every few seconds. It had been staring at me ever since I arrived, wild and imposing even in serenity. It didn't seem to mind the wound it had got — already, I think, it was healing — but it was still sickly, wan, wasting away. Dying. And it was my fault. I cautiously took a step towards it, then another. It blinked, patiently waiting. I drew closer, my heart leaping wildly. It made no move. Closer. My arm trembled as I reached out to touch it. One more step. I placed my hand on its body, feeling its sheer, inexorable solidness. Its warmth. Its pulse. It was real. The Questing Beast was real. I was touching it. "I did it," I whispered emptily. I looked directly into its serpentine eyes, nearly on the verge of tears, so awed was I by the spectacle. "I caught you." Just like that. Sixteen centuries of effort and months of debilitating madness, all for this one moment. I was the one who finally did it. I was shaking so much that I couldn't even think properly. "This is what I wanted," I murmured slowly, "right? To find you. Ah…as a member of the SCP Foundation, it's…it's my…m-my job to, to contain anomalies. Like you." I swallowed; my throat felt dry. "I have…a document already written up. I just…n-need to… To report you and bring you in, and…that'll be that. Just bring you in," I whispered, caressing the Beast's fur. "Do my job. Study you and move on to the next one." I began sobbing. I don't know why. No. I know why. I looked down and saw my father, frail and gaunt from cancer. My family said that he had been asking for me up until the moment he died. Where's Emile? Where is my son? I shuddered and reached my hand out. He held it, faint and cold, but still steady. I sat down on the grass, still touching the Beast. It gingerly laid its long scaly head on my lap, and I heard it whine in sympathy. I laid a hand on its head, still crying. "I'm sorry," I whispered, unable to control myself. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" I buried my tear-streaked face in its flank, just like a child. I have no idea how long I sat there like that, weeping over a monster. I could do it, I realized. Alert my companions, wait for them to retrieve it. We'd contain the Questing Beast and study it; I'd offer my insight to the research team. They'd credit me for its capture, I'd get a pat on the back from the Overseers, and…life would go on. I'd go through the drills, shuffle through paperwork, and make room for the next anomaly. And the one after that. And the one after that. On and on until I died. I could have done all that, and it would have been…fine. After all, what's the point of hunting a beast if you never capture it? I caressed the Questing Beast's head with my hand. It had been a part of my family since the fall of Rome. It was as much a part of my life as the Foundation, and Bodmall, and my father. And here I was, about to end it. So did Sir Palomedes ever catch it? No… In fact, it's still running around to this day. Why hasn't anyone caught it yet? One day, you'll understand. I dried my eyes. The Beast moved its head, sensing that I wished to stand up. I did, and gave it some space. We exchanged silent glances for a long moment. My voice came out tremulously. "It…w-will take s-some time…f-for backup to arrive. W-when I call them. We're out…in the m-middle of nowhere — the terrain's rough, they have to worry about Horizon. It c-could be…a long time before they get here. Very long time." The creature raised its head, sensing my intentions. My hands convulsed wildly as I fumbled for my phone. "Darn it," I whispered, dropping it. I picked it up and noticed the charge was almost gone. "Oh, shoot," I hissed, "the battery's almost dead. M-my call…may get cut off. That could…delay them even more." The creature now stood up in triumph, its tail swishing. "I mean, they'd still find me; I have my microchip. No way I can turn that off. But…" I beamed at the Beast with joy. "You'd have one hell of a head start." It bounded around playfully, like a great dog reuniting with a beloved friend. I laughed. "I'm shaking so much my hands are slippery!" I remarked. I couldn't push any buttons on my phone for the life of me! I must have misdialed four or five times before… Suddenly the beast stiffened in alarm, and I heard someone running across the way. My heart sank momentarily, fearing that my time was up, that I would have to make my choice in blood, one way or the other, and live with it. Note: in the interest of accuracy, Bouquet's account of the events in question will temporarily shift to the recording made by his microchip implant. [ Bouquet's three escorts are seen approaching him. Lorimar is nursing an injury. ] Boule: Sir, are you all r— Bouquet: Stay back! All of you! I'm not going back there! Boule: We don't want to fight you, sir, we just want to help. Calm down and come with us quietly. You're still in a lot of dang— [ Boule is suddenly lifted off the ground by an unseen force. She lets out a pained cry as she is squeezed by the force. ] [ Bouquet faces the empty space beneath Boule, shouting frantically. ] Bouquet: Wait, no! Stop, stop, stop! Please, please don't! Let her go, please, I'm begging you! They're not here to hurt us! [ Boule is suspended in midair briefly before being placed on the ground. She is severely bruised but alive. Bouquet sighs with relief. The other two escorts stare at each other. ] Soniere: Well, shit! . . . Enclosed: an audio-only conversation held between Bouquet, Cochon, Mishima, and O5-11, four hours later. [ After a long period of silence, O5-11 takes a deep breath. ] O5-11: Where is the entity now? Bouquet: I apologize, sir: it escaped while my escorts detained me. If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say it's within a fifty-kilometer radius of the cemetery. I have no idea how fast it goes. O5-11: I see. This is the last thing we need after the Roncevaux debacle. We still don't even know what the Insurgency is up to. [ a pause ] It really did a number on you, didn't it? Bouquet: Yes, sir. [ silence ] O5-11: Well, it's an anomaly, so it needs to be contained. [ Bouquet grunts softly but remains silent. ] O5-11: Or, at the very least, studied. Correct? Bouquet: Uh, yes. Yes, sir. O5-11: And barring some new discovery coming to light, you are the only person in the Foundation capable of doing so. Correct? Bouquet: I believe so, sir. O5-11: And if you were to contain it… Bouquet: Sir, in my professional opinion, I believe that would terminate the entity. Hence, in order to study it, we forego containment. [ silence ] O5-11: Captain Mishima, what is your opinion on the matter? Mishima: Well, sir, if we cannot contain the entity, or study it without Director Bouquet's guidance, then we have him pursue and observe. With supervision. Cochon: And restraint. If we go through with this, we can't have him dropping unconscious every fortnight. O5-11: No… [ silence ] O5-11: You will be assigned a single member from Iota-44 and Eta-10, to be rotated weekly, for your protection and assistance. I will also assign your chief security officer for the same. Together you will pursue SCP-8089 and make what observations you can. Bouquet: Sir! Uh, I don't know what to s— O5-11: One moment, now: I'm a realist, not a romantic. I expect regular progress reports. If you slip up, I'm recalling you, adding a demotion, and cancelling the endeavor. You'll take full responsibility for its termination. Is that clear? Bouquet: Yes sir, I understand, sir. Thank you, sir. O5-11: Good. Cochon, Mishima, I'll leave the matter of his retinue to your discretion. I expect the first report within six days, Bouquet. You're all dismissed. Cochon and Mishima: Yes, sir. [they log off] O5-11: Oh, before you head off, Bouquet, there's one more thing I'd like to add. Bouquet: Sir? [ silence ] O5-11: Just remember: no one in the world ever gets what they want. Happy hunting. Bouquet: Thank you, sir. . . . The room was small, but it would suit them well for tonight. They each had a bed and a little privacy, and all the world before them tomorrow. Lamerok looked out the window, smiling at the countryside. For a moment, he imagined he saw his father in the distance, proud and strong, saddled on a mighty steed, a banner waving in the breeze as he thrust at the sky with a lance, shouting Tally-ho with all his joy. "Nice view." He turned around, watching as Iseult closed her laptop and stood next to him. He looked outside and the image was gone. "Yes," he whispered, "it is. Finished sending the report?" "Yeah. Not much to say, though." "Well, we've only been at it for a week. The Beast never made it easy for Sir Palomedes, either." Lamerok sighed, sat down on his bed, and opened a packet of headache pills. He took one and rubbed his temples. "But what a week. Leaving Site-278, flying all the way to England, driving for nine hours straight…" "Thanks for making me do that, by the way," Iseult grumbled. Lamerok grinned. "You're welcome. But three false trails, hours wandering around rough terrain, constant rain, missing more meals than I can count — or showers! Oh, and let's not forget: one of us had to put up with Renalt and Shimada for a whole day, while nursing a three-day headache, on top of an upset stomach, with a report to compose that our jobs depend on…" "And me without my Stradivarius," Iseult chuckled, as she mimicked playing a violin. Lamerok feigned amusement. "Not exactly 'happily ever after', is it? If I had known this would cause me so much trouble, I wouldn't have gone through with it. No wonder nobody's ever caught this thing." Iseult smiled, sat down next to him, and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, but it hasn't been all bad. Has it?" He smiled softly, and touched her hand. "No." He looked up, glancing out the window again. Renalt and Shimada would be scouting the area for another hour, at least. Plenty of time to be alone. "Want to hear a secret?" he whispered. Iseult's eyes glistened. "Always." "I wasn't completely up front with O5-11 during our meeting. Well, that sounds awful: I really only omitted a minor incident. When my escorts came to retrieve me, I asked them to give me a moment with my father. I figured it might be the last time I'd be able to visit his grave, so… Anyway, I told him that I forgave him for everything — for every wrong he may have done to me. Then I asked for him to forgive me of the same. I don't personally believe in an afterlife, but I'd like to think that he heard me, wherever he is." Lamerok dabbed at his eyes while Iseult sat in respectful silence. "So!" he exclaimed after a moment. "Where to next? I was thinking we could go to Wales. You've got family there, right?" "Yeah, just my mother." "You think you might visit her?" "What?" she snorted, nervously laughing as she parted her hair back. "And bring you with me?" "Why not? The Questing Beast first came from Wales, or so my father's research says. Two birds, one stone." Lamerok shrugged, smiling. Iseult turned away shyly. "She…she might get the wrong impression. About you." "Well, I don't have to meet her," he said softly. "We can each do our own thing for awhile." Iseult continued averting her gaze, hoping that Lamerok couldn't see her face. "Yeah, maybe. But business first." "Fair enough," he agreed. "Oh, before I forget: a memento of our adventures." Lamerok reached over, opened the bedside table, and presented her with a small box. She stared at it with some incredulity before opening it. Inside was a silver chain, inexpensive and plain. "I have my own," he said, somewhat proudly. He lifted it up partways, squeezing his thumb and forefinger against something. "When the Questing Beast left, I noticed it had dropped a few of its scales. I took two of them as a souvenir and made them into a necklace. Go on, put it on." Iseult stared. She couldn't see the scales. "Jewelry isn't exactly my thing." She added, with a stilted laugh, "You couldn't find a scented candle?" "Sorry, our friend wasn't that considerate." He smiled warmly, and she, not wanting to appear ungrateful, looped it around her neck. "How does it look?" she said anxiously. Lamerok pursed his lips, holding his chin in appraisal. "Hmm, you're right: jewelry doesn't suit you. But it doesn't suit me, either, yet here I am." She laughed. "I guess I'm keeping it, then!" He sighed with relief and smiled sadly. "I'm sorry. I know you can't see it. It probably just looks like any ordinary necklace." "No, it's fine," she said, beaming with joy, fighting to suppress her tears. She clutched the chain in her fist, and for a fleeting moment, thought she felt something smooth and circular yielding to her grip. "I know it's there." Footnotes 1. All Foundation agents require a microchip tracking and vitality implant when they go out in the field. 2. Following the Norman invasion of 1066, William I spent fourteen years attempting to conquer Wales, and William II spent another thirteen years attempting to conquer it, with debatable success. 3. Enclosed is a verbatim copy of the aforementioned document. 4. Excerpt from a telephone conversation Bouquet held with his sister, embedded into the audio log by Bouquet. 5. A voice message Bouquet embedded into the audio log from his personal phone. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8089" by Mister_Toasty, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8089. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-8089/Arthur_and_the_Questing_Beast_%28full%29.jpg Name: Arthur and the Questing Beast Author: Henry Justice Ford License: CC0 Public Domain Source Link: [https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Arthur_and_the_Questing_Beast_%28full%29.jpg] |
SCP-8089 | uncontained | close Info X ⚠️ I have an Author Page! Item#: scp-8089 Level2 Secondary Class: archon Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: caution link to memo Special Containment Procedures: The continued existence of SCP-8089 depends on its status as an uncontained entity. Pursuit and observation of SCP-8089 is under the purvey of former Site-278 Director L. Emile Bouquet, with assistance from former Site-278 Chief Security Officer Iseult Bodmall and MTF Eta-10 (See No Evil) and Iota-44 (Norman Invaders). SCP-8089 mainly resides in the United Kingdom but has been detected on the Navarren border between France and Spain, and may also reside in Germany, Ireland, Italy, and northern Portugal. Description: SCP-8089 refers to a chimerical entity originating in the Isle of Anglesey, Wales, United Kingdom. The entity naturally emits a cognitohazardous sensory field that prohibits nearly all perception of it. It does not affect auditory sensations, however, and has been described as sounding like a pack of baying hounds. Persons sharing direct familial history with former Site-278 Director Bouquet are able to fully perceive the entity, through methods currently unknown. Bouquet has described the creature as having the head and neck of a serpent, the body of a leopard, the haunches of a lion, and the feet of a deer, and estimates it to be three meters in length and one point five meters in height, with an unknown weight. It is hypothesized that if the entity goes for an extended period of time without being actively pursued, it will perish. Addendum-1: In the event of SCP-8089's neutralization or termination, Bouquet and his retinue are to resume their duties at a Site to be determined. In the event of Bouquet's passing, a successor to the study and pursuit of SCP-8089 is to be chosen at his discretion. Addendum-2: Bouquet has supplied various audio logs, reports, and recordings to supplement SCP-8089 data, compiled and approved by acting Site-278 Director Offet. . . . Enclosed: A video record of Site-278 made prior to the events in question. Archived by acting Director Offet. Close [ Site-278 Director L. Emile Bouquet is drinking tea in his office when an alarm sounds. He sputters briefly before making an announcement. ] Bouquet (over the PA system): Attention, this is Director Bouquet. There has been a containment breach. All exits and entrances to Site Two Seventy-Eight have been sealed. All faculty and staff, remain calm and proceed to your designated safe rooms until further notice. Security teams will handle the rest. Repeat… [ the announcement is repeated ] Bouquet (on the comm with Site-278 chief security officer, Iseult Bodmall): Bodmall, it's Bouquet. What's your status? Bodmall: Mobile. I have my team sweeping Level One as we speak. Any idea where the breach is? Bouquet: Negative, continue your sweep. Escort any staff member you see to the nearest safe room, and keep me posted. Bodmall: Wilco, sir. Out. [ Bouquet opens a feed on all security cameras in Site-278, searching for irregularities. One cell reads as a confirmed breach. The security camera focuses on the breached cell, catching the glimpse of an anomaly before it flickers away. Bouquet pauses one of the feeds as the anomaly passes it and forwards the image to Bodmall. ] Bodmall: Our bogey, sir? Bouquet: I believe so. It's apparently able to move faster than the eye can see. The good news is that's pretty much all it does. How many SRAs do you have? Bodmall: Just one, sir. I can send someone to retrieve more. Bouquet: Better safe than sorry. Get one more and keep an eye out. I'll see if I can't seal it off remotely. Bodmall: Wilco, sir. Out. [ Various video feeds attempt to focus on the anomaly. Bouquet remotely closes several doors, trying to cut it off and trap it. He leaves some rooms alone, giving it the illusion of safety. ] Bouquet: It's going into room one thirty-one now. [ brief radio silence ] One thirty-five. Thirty-seven. Now it's at one forty-four. Forty-eight — wait, it just passed into Lab Eleven! There's only one way out of there. Bodmall: Copy, we're on its trail. Priming SRAs. Bouquet: I'm sealing the door now. What's your ETA? Bodmall: Twelve seconds! Bouquet: [ brief radio silence ] Door is sealed! Activate SRAs! Bodmall: Copy. Planting them now. [ The hum of an activating Scranton Reality Anchor is heard. ] Bouquet: Bodmall, are you ready? Bodmall: Primed. Bouquet: Unsealing entrance to Lab Eleven in five…four…three… [ Bouquet unseals Lab 11. The security team runs in and apprehends the anomaly. Bodmall brings it out, hoists her phone up, and takes a self-photograph. ] Bodmall: Time! Bouquet: Ten minutes nine seconds. Not too shabby. Bodmall: Bah, we could do better. Are we all clear? Bouquet: Not yet. Another cell is acting up. Could be a malfunction in the system. And…it's a breach. Bodmall: Crap. [ Bodmall handcuffs the anomaly and entrusts it to the security team. ] Okay, boss, looks like we're still rolling. Status? Bouquet: [ laughing ] Stand down, it's only a Safe-class anomaly. Chamber two-one-oh-eight. I guess you could just shut its door and lock it again if you want. Bodmall: May as well. Better add five more minutes to my time there, boss. Damn it. Bouquet: A sub-twenty's nothing to complain about, Bodmall. Drill or not, you all performed admirably. I'll call Maintenance about the malfunction. You give your squad an extra fifteen minutes in the Rec Room. Bodmall: Will do. I'll reset the dummy first. Super-speed, eh? That's an odd one. The things Anderson can program… Bouquet: [ laughing ] Like killer paintballs? Bodmall: [ sighs ] Are you ever gonna let me live that one down? Bouquet: Only if you forget about the time the dummy sprayed me with tar. You did get rid of that picture you took, right? Bodmall: Uh, no comment, sir. Over and out. Note: the preceding was a record of a standard security breach drill, which incorporate a metamorphic simulacrum created by Anderson Robotics, programmed to mimic a multitude of low-risk anomalous behaviors. The drills are timed to go off randomly, three times per month. Audio Log 01 of Director L. E. Bouquet I've been with the Foundation for twenty-five years now. Worked my way from Junior Researcher at eighteen, all the way up to Director of Site-278 in Corsica. I think I've done all right for myself. We've lost a lot of good people, but who hasn't? We've spared the world more than a few dangerous anomalies, so that's something to be proud of. I only have one real regret…but I'd rather not get into that. It's personal. I suppose my story really began about three days or so after the drill. We had just passed our monthly quota and were admittedly a little more relaxed than we ought to have been, but I suppose we'd earned a little hubris. Well, we were certainly going to get our fair share of unexpected action. For the last several weeks, our local Mobile Task Force, Iota-44, the Norman Invaders, had been sweeping the country for rumors of a temporal anomaly. They hadn't been having much luck finding it, but they were committed with their reports. I remember getting the alert from Captain Cochon one day that his squad had information they wanted to share with me personally, so I made preparations and welcomed the team inside. Enclosed: an edited transcription of the described meeting, as recorded by an operative of Iota-44 who chooses to remain anonymous. Cochon: Well, it's probably nothing. Renard heard some dogs barking in the distance. Bouquet: Dogs? Renard: Yes, sir, a large number of them. I just thought it was unusual since we were out in the middle of the countryside. I guess someone could have been taking them for a walk, but they'd have to be toting around a lot of dogs for them to sound like that. Bouquet: How many would you say there were? Renard: Hmm, somewhere between fifteen and twenty. They could've just as easily been a pack of strays. Bouquet: And that was the only incident that stood out? Cochon: Just for that day, sir. [ Cochon borrows a cell phone from J. Taureau, another Iota-44 member. ] I asked Taureau to take some photos of the area, just in case. Maybe it was a cognitohazard, or some other effect the anomaly had on the area. [ Bouquet examines the photos. ] Bouquet: Were there any deer in the area? Cochon: Deer? Bouquet: Yes. There are deer tracks in this photo. Cochon: I don't see any tracks. How about you? [ He shows the phone to Taureau. ] Taureau: No, sir. [ The other members of Iota-44 state the same. ] Bouquet: That's strange. You're absolutely certain you don't see anything? Cochon: No, sir, just grass and some stones. They must've been small tracks. [ Silence. Bouquet seems pensive about something. ] Taureau: So it's a cognitohazard, then? Bouquet: Perhaps. Could you please forward all of these photographs to me? I'd like to take a closer look at them. Cochon: No problem, sir, gimme just a moment. [ Cochon sends him the photos. Bouquet thanks Iota-44 for their work and suggests they get some beers on the house, then departs. ] Audio Log 02 of Director Bouquet I put the image in question on my computer and studied it for what must have been a solid hour, my eyes almost strained from the effort and my body sore and stiff. This picture was the ghost of a past long forsaken, and I knew that nobody else in the world would believe me. Nobody living, at any rate. I took a break to walk around, clear my head, and get something hot to drink. In my perambulations, I began to think of my father. I thought about what a stranger the man had been to me, how little I had seen of him as I had grown up, how much of an obligation I must have been for him. He was never cruel or cross, but he usually treated me as less of a son and more of a duty, something he needed to do once a week because a judge told him. Sometimes we'd get along all right, but other times, we'd barely exchange a few sentences in the span of an hour. He rarely prodded too deeply into my life, and I rarely did the same. He had another family to attend to, and I suppose…I wasn't as much of a priority. Kind of messes a kid up a little when their parents do that. He did have one obsession, though, and he shared it with me sometimes, whenever he was in the mood. I used to bring it up a lot when I was a boy, but I almost never mentioned it after I went off to university. It became embarrassing whenever he talked about it, like a part of him still wanted to treat me like a child even though I was studying for a PhD. He'd go on about his destiny, or the family legacy, and how he wanted me to pick it up for him when he got too old for it. He'd show me drawings, diagrams, coats-of-arms, maps, old manuscripts, sour books that stank of age… Normally I just tuned it out. Occasionally I'd humor him and get an earful, and then he'd prod me about getting married, having kids, keeping the tradition alive. I just dismissed him and said that my work kept me too busy for that sort of thing. Obviously I never went into detail about the kind of work I did — I'd just say "at the lab" or "at the university", and give him some vague tidbits here and there. A few years ago, I resolved to tell him everything when the time was right, but… I finished my drink, disposed of it, and went back to work. As I studied the photograph again, I couldn't help but think to myself, "Dad would have really gotten a kick out of this." I contacted Cochon and asked if I could accompany him out in the field to investigate the area where those photos had been taken. He asked me how I was able to see something that nobody else could, but I brushed him off, muttering some halfhearted excuse about how I was more experienced with cognitohazards — that I'd been trained to withstand them or something. He seemed to buy it — the perks of being a Site Director, he assumed — and said that as long as I knew how to use a gun and wasn't too proud to follow his orders, then I could tag along. I agreed to his terms, though admitted that my marksmanship was rusty. I then rather spuriously wondered if Bodmall could accompany me as well. We got into a little spat about bringing extra security on what had essentially been a fruitless venture, and he reminded me that Iota-44 was more than capable of doing their job. I must've hurt his pride a little, or maybe he sensed that I didn't fully trust him. In any case, since I was upper brass, I got my way in the end, and we added another member to the crew. Bodmall seemed as apprehensive as Cochon, but went along with it, and spared little expense in making fun of my request during the journey. Enclosure: an edited transcription of the described period, as recorded by the aforementioned anonymous operative of Iota-44. Bodmall: What's the matter, boss? Can't take a walk in the country without me holding your hand? Bouquet: Would you rather stay cooped up in that lab, surrounded by eggheads and pencil-pushers? Bodmall: Hey, some of my closest friends. [ laughs ] [ A long period of silence follows. The vehicle stops to allow local farmers and their livestock to pass. ] Bouquet: I trust you. [ Bodmall is silent. The operative has gone on record to state that she "appeared reverent". ] Audio Log 03 of Director Bouquet We arrived several hours later, right before dusk settled. We'd have a few hours of light left before we'd need to make camp, so Iota-44 set up a perimeter while I was microchipped.1 Bodmall offered to hold my hand for the ordeal, but I assured her I'd be fine, and admitted I took the needle like a real champ. Now the Foundation would be able to track us wherever we went, providing we were still in one piece. With this cheery thought in mind, we began our preliminary search, splitting up into three teams, with Bodmall and Cochon in mine. The Captain guided me over to the location where Taureau had taken the photo, which had more or less been preserved. I immediately saw the tracks and rubbed my chin in deep contemplation. Enclosed: an edited transcription of the described investigation, as recorded by the aforementioned anonymous operative of Iota-44. Bouquet: Here. [ He kneels down, digging a square-shaped indentation in the ground with a knife. ] These are where the tracks are. Do you see them? Cochon: No, sir, I do not. Miss, do you see em'? Bodmall: No, but I'll take the Director's word for it. [ Cochon records a short video of the area and forwards it to the rest of Iota-44. Nobody sees anything out of the ordinary. Cochon sighs impatiently. ] Bouquet: Shall I take a psychiatric exam, Captain? Cochon: You're the Director, sir: you tell me. [ Bouquet appears frustrated. ] [ A member of Iota-44 suddenly falls over, followed by two more. ] Cochon: Down! Get down! [ Everyone lays flat on the grass as shots are heard. ] Cochon: Status! Renard: Under attack from an unknown assailant, sir! Cochon: Return fire! Bodmall, get em' outta here! [ Bodmall forcibly escorts Bouquet away from the skirmish. Bouquet stumbles several times; the ground erupts as explosives and heavy ordinance impact it. Bodmall is struck but manages to return fire; Bouquet is unresponsive. She yells at him, then pushes him away. ] Bodmall: Don't make me drag you, sir! Go! [ Bouquet hesitates briefly before successfully escaping. ] Audio Log 04 of Director Bouquet Useless. My feet may as well have been the roots of a tree. I neither fought nor fled, but froze, a paragon of idiocy. In my flimsy defense, I've never seen any real action during my tenure, so to be confronted with it so abruptly was jarring. I finally realized what Bodmall wanted me to do, however, and ran for my life. I hated leaving her and Iota-44 behind to deal with whatever had attacked us, but I was the only member of the group who wasn't expendable. My stomach churned with the sickness of adrenaline and cowardice as I bolted, muscles awakening after years of atrophy. I had been something of a sprinter in my youth and managed to account for myself before growing winded. My efforts took me to a thick, shaded forest, where I staggered and lurched, gasping helplessly, light-headed and dazed. I came across a little creek and recalled something about how water leads to civilization, and one should stick to it when one is lost, so I sat underneath a nearby tree and waited for my heart to stop hammering. It was almost dead silent. As my gasping calmed down, I checked my body for any injuries, finding myself whole and unhurt. As far as I knew, I was the only one who was safe — or even alive. Bodmall was tough, but that injury she sustained concerned me — and what about Cochon and his men? For that matter, who had attacked us, and why? The Foundation had a long list of enemies, so it could have been anybody. I convalesced in quandary for a long time. As I sat there by the bank, I heard a peculiar sound, and froze. Something was coming through the trees, heading straight for this same stream: something large, powerful, and inhuman. My body stiffened; I swallowed, waiting. And then… My skin prickled and eyes widened in astonishment. It slithered through the trees with the grace of a swan, four heavy legs hewing the grassy underbrush, limbs swollen with predatory strength. Its head stretched out, brazenly scouring its surroundings with apex confidence, cold eyes glowing gold, a slender fork periodically darting from its mouth. I was aghast as I watched it crawl to the stream, leaning over, taking a drink. One of its eyes fixed on me, and I flinched with a terror and a thrill I had never known before. I met its stare in awe, gripped with suspense and disbelief, so paralyzed that I couldn't even shudder. Finally it raised its long scaly neck, higher and higher until it nearly resembled a tree. Thunder shattered the sky and broke the silence. We stared at each other for a moment longer, until the sky broke open with rain. With it came a human voice, distantly shouting. The creature looked away and slithered off, as mysteriously as it arrived, accompanied by the sound of baying dogs. I swallowed and sat there dazed in the downpour — for how long, I couldn't say. Eventually I heard footsteps drawing near. I grabbed my sidearm and stood in a defiant panic, but it was only Bodmall. Note: The newest model of Foundation-issued microchips, supplied by a joint operation of Anderson Robotics and Prometheus Labs, allows the chip to link to visual and aural receptors via the nervous system, enabling recordings of everything field agents see and hear. The following is a record of what transpired once Bodmall located Director Bouquet. Bodmall: There you are, sir. I was afraid I had lost you for a second. Are you all right? Bouquet: Did you just see… [ Bouquet looks to the bank of the river, then back to Bodmall. ] Never mind. Where are the others? Bodmall: No idea. We're not safe out here. I found a little shack where we can wait out this rain. [ Bouquet follows Bodmall through the brush to a small shack. The remains of a much larger structure are close by, suggesting it had once been part of a habitation. Bodmall and Bouquet enter the shack, remove some clothes, and start a fire. ] Bouquet: Thanks for saving me back there. Bodmall: You would have done the same, sir. Bouquet: Obviously not. I can't believe I froze up. Cochon has every right to chew me out. Bodmall: I won't tell him. Just another embarrassing memory I get to keep. Bouquet: Thanks. [ A pause. Rainfall is heard in the background. ] How's your injury? Bodmall: My what? Oh. Not that bad. Stings a bit when I move. Bouquet: Do you mind if I take a look? [ Bodmall lifts her uniform, showing a reddish bruise on her back. She is not bleeding. ] Hmm, they weren't using bullets. I'm not a ballistics expert, but I'd say our unknown adversary had prepared to fight a different enemy when we came along. We may have even gotten caught in a crossfire unrelated to our mission. Bodmall: You can tell all that? Bouquet: Either that, or you tripped and fell. Bodmall: Sir, I was distinctly struck! And pardon my vulgarity, but it hurt like a bastard and a half. Bouquet: So should I hold your hand? Bodmall: [ snorts ] Sir! [ Bouquet laughs, and Bodmall eventually joins him. ] Bouquet: Do you have anything I could use to treat it? Bodmall: Just some basic supplies. Compresses, bandages, painkillers. [ Bouquet looks through Bodmall's supplies, taking out a small canister of petroleum jelly. ] Bouquet: Ah, good. This should help. It's probably just a first-degree burn. [ Bouquet applies the petroleum to Bodmall's wound. He then takes a wet article of clothing and uses it as a compress. ] Bodmall: [ hisses ] Aah! So how come you could see those tracks when nobody else could? Bouquet: Mmm? Do you believe me? It seemed Cochon didn't. Bodmall: You've never steered me wrong before, sir. [ A pause as the rain continues. ] Bouquet: It's a long, crazy story, and one I didn't even believe myself until today. Bodmall: I take it you don't actually have cognitohazardous training. Bouquet: I do, but this is something else — something ancient, and…personal. Bodmall: We've got time. And you did say you trusted me. Bouquet: It's not exactly a dark secret. Embarrassing, maybe. Bodmall: Oh, now you have to tell me. Bouquet: Hey, I'm your boss. I don't have to do anything. [ A pause. Thunder is heard. ] But it would pass the time. Just don't fall asleep on me. Bodmall: Oh, I'd never do that. [ The sound of rain continues. ] Bouquet: Tell me, Bodmall: how much do you know about Arthurian myth? Bodmall: You mean like the Sword in the Stone and all that? About as much as the average person, I'd say. Bouquet: Ah. Well. This is a story that began sixteen-hundred years ago, after the fall of the Roman Empire, during the so-called Dark Ages. One day, a young King Arthur, who was out hunting, came to a forest, much like this one. His horse had grown so exhausted from the hunt that it fell over dead, and he asked a nearby woodsman for a new one. As he waited, he sat by a pool, but was stirred out of his thoughts as a great, dreadful creature approached. Before Arthur could make sense of what was going on, the creature retreated. A King came riding up just then, and introduced himself as Pellinore. He claimed that it was his destiny to hunt the creature Arthur had seen. The two of them didn't exactly get off on the right foot, as they dueled so fiercely that Pellinore broke the very sword that Arthur had pulled from the stone. Luckily, the two men became close friends later, and together they united much of Britain under Camelot. Unfortunately, during one of those battles, Pellinore killed Arthur's uncle, King Lot, sparking a family feud that would result in his death — by Arthur's nephew Gawain, of all people. As for the beast, with Pellinore dead, it fell to his sons to pursue the creature, and their sons after them. Most versions of the Arthurian myth say that Sir Palomedes the Saracen picked up the quest, owing to his close relationship with Pellinore, and hunted it for the rest of his life. Scholars see the beast as an allegory of Palomedes's fruitless love for a Queen, whom he pined for but could never win. Others suggest the creature is symbolic of the chaos that would one day befall Camelot, as it was born of a taboo much the same way as Mordred, Arthur's son from his aunt, was, and that only by converting to Christianity could Palomedes be victorious. One rather obsessed lunatic even believed that the beast lives to this very day, and that only those from Pellinore's bloodline could hunt it, as that was their eternal destiny. Take from that what you will. Bouquet: Anyway, it's only a story, no matter how you slice it. Bodmall: So what does that have to do with you seeing those tracks? Bouquet: [ exhales deeply ] Some other time. Bodmall: Oh come on, sir! You can't leave me hanging like that! You could at least… [ silence ] Wait: do you think you're descended from this Pellinore guy? Bouquet: No. Definitely not. Bodmall: Then why were you the only one who saw those tracks? [ Bouquet remains silent. ] [ A loud rapping sound is heard from the shack door. Bodmall cautiously levels her rifle at the door and opens it. They both relax as they see Cochon on the other side. He is bruised, bleeding, disheveled, and gasping for air. ] Cochon: Good, you're all right. They've stopped fighting for now. Bouquet: Who? Cochon: The Chaos Insurgency and Horizon Initiative. That's who fired on us, though I have good reason to believe they had no idea we were in the area. God only knows the details. All I know is that we were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Bodmall: Did they just spring out of the ground or something? Why didn't you catch this sooner when you were sweeping the area? Cochon: Look, all I know is that we got caught with our pants down, two of my crew are K.I.A., one's wounded, and we've got a Site Director in hostile territory. Bodmall: So we get him out. Cochon: You catch on quick. I'll have someone escort him back to two seventy-eight while my people and I sort this shit out. Bodmall: I can take him. Cochon: No, you're more useful to me here. I'm glad you insisted on bringing her with you, Director. She can make up for my departed crew. Bodmall: But I— Cochon: Yeah, you got loyalty to your Director: I get it. But I need guns, quick wits, and people I can trust, and the Director here's vouched for all three. [ Bodmall looks at Bouquet, appalled. ] Bouquet: He's right, Bodmall. Just consider yourself a Norman Invader for the time being. Bodmall: I'd rather not, sir. My family's Cymru, and I could never live with myself if I did. No offense. [ Bouquet laughs. ] Cochon: Hmm? What's so funny? Bouquet: It's a Welsh thing, Captain.2 Nothing personal. . . . Audio Log 05 of Director Bouquet I assured them that they'd warm up to each other in no time, and we left the shack once Cochon's drivers arrived. It was still raining, but all things considered, that was the least of our concerns. I gave Bodmall a silent stare before parting ways with her; her gaze was like burning iron, and she nodded as we shared our unspoken accord. My return to Site-278 was unremarkable. It was late at night when I got back. My first priority was contacting the O5 Council and reporting on what had happened. I made myself some tea and typed up a summary of the day's events, whisking it away to several secretaries, who'd in turn forward the events to the Overseers. I didn't mentioned my encounter with the creature. I briefly wondered what sort of calamity would cause the Chaos Insurgency and Horizon Initiative to butt heads like that, but realized that this knowledge wouldn't really help me in my normal affairs, so I went back to work. I hit a wall thirty-five minutes in, worrying about Bodmall. Then I thought about my father. Where's Emile? Where is my son? No, I told myself. Work comes first. I can't protect anybody by dawdling. Is that still your excuse, a voice in my head asked me. I forced myself to finish one more paper. My tea was gone, and I didn't feel like making more, so I decided to clear my head. I went to my private bathroom and washed my face, inadvertently staring into the mirror as I dried off. Obviously, I saw myself reflected back — but there was also a bit of my father in that face, too. My mother always did hate how closely I resembled him, both in looks and mannerisms. Like that was ever my fault. I sighed. "What now?" I asked my reflection. "Get back to work," I answered, "simple as that." "Oh? And then what? More work?" "I'm a Director now; I have responsibilities." "That's always been your vanguard, hasn't it?" "I can't stop, can I?" "Not for anyone or anything, huh?" I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut. I must be losing my mind, I thought, talking to myself like this. I kept staring at the men in the mirror, though. "What do you want?" I wondered. I left the bathroom, shut the door, sat down, and worked for two solid hours. I noticed a reply from O5-11's secretary and opened it. The Overseer was "interested" in what I had experienced, and wanted to look into it further. They postulated that the area must have some religious significance for the Horizon Initiative to get involved, and promised to give me some details later. I replied back, adding that I'd have my own people do some digging. France and Corsica are saturated with religious history, dating back to the Celts and Vandals and Gauls and goodness knows who else. It could have been anything, so Site-278 would be very busy going forward. I got one final reply promising updates on Iota-44, with a "good luck, well done, keep it up" to cap it off. An hour later, shortly after midnight, I decided to turn in for the night and slipped into my private bunk. No going home for me today. . . . Audio Log 06 of Director Bouquet At first I didn't know I was dreaming, for the dreamer believes their world is real, and all sensations and experiences are real. Only rarely do they understand their situation, and either adapt or awaken. I came to my own realization slowly, even as I wandered through a thick mist, with a great blue sky above, passing underneath a rainbow archway. I was alone, and at first I thought I was walking on clouds. A large shape approached me, silent and gentle, almost indistinguishable from the billowing fog. It loomed over me, wisps of white smoke curling, formless yet distinct. I thought that it pointed at me, and then pointed at something else in the distance. The shape faded as I walked away from it, towards the area it had indicated. Another shape was there, long and thin, no less solid than its predecessor, and yet… I waited patiently, though for what, or why, I couldn't say. The first shape reappeared and was now definitely pointing at the second shape, which seemed to look at me. I reached out to touch it but it drew away. I retreated, and it followed me. I pursued it again, neither gaining nor losing it. This venture seemed to please the first shape, and it fused itself into the second shape until they were one. My eyes widened in terrifying delight as I beheld what they had become, recognizing it even though I couldn't remember it when I woke. I had never taken much stock in dreams, but perhaps the previous day's events had affected me, and I was undergoing some subconscious fear, or desire. I decided to attend to yesterday's most incredible event first, and spuriously wrote up a mock SCP Document on it. I took out a sheet of paper and a pencil, and began scribbling.3 Item #: SCP-# Special Containment Procedures: SCP-# is currently uncontained. MTF Whatever (Iota-44?) is assigned to locate and detain SCP-#. Cooperation with Site-278 regarding this missive is ongoing. SCP-# was last detected near the Navarren border of France and Spain. Description: SCP-# refers to a chimerical entity originating in the United Kingdom, commonly refered to as a I hesitated. Did I dare delude myself? A part of me wanted to throw the paper away and make breakfast so I could get back to work, but…I knew this thing had to come out. I could shove it aside as much as I wanted, but it would always come back, louder and stronger than before. It was inextricably a part of me. I assured myself that none of this would be taken seriously, that this was for my own amusement and nothing else — a diversion, a lark. I still hesitated. "Come on, Emile," I whispered, hearing my father's voice. "Call it what it is. Write it. Say it. Confront it." …commonly referred to as a QUESTING BEAST. I shuddered, sighing, sinking into myself. The deed was done. I had now acknowledged a part of my life that, long ago, I had turned my back on. I felt nauseous — but my chest was light. It was as though great iron bands had been loosened around me, and I laughed in spite of my fear. "Fuck it," I grunted as I glared at my writing. "May as well finish the rest." The entity naturally emits a cognitohazardous sensory field that prohibits nearly all perception of it. It does not affect auditory sensations, however, and has been described as sounding like "a pack of dogs barking". "It's just for fun," I swore to myself. "It's just for fun, just an exorcism. I'm just writing it to get it out in the open and be done with it. It's therapy. It doesn't have to be real. It's silly. Fuck it." DIRECTOR L. EMILE BOUQUET is able to fully perceive the entity, through methods "currently unknown". Bouquet has described the creature as I thought back to my dream. Back to that moment in the forest. Back to all the pictures dad showed me. I'd never forget what it looked like, even if my mind was wiped clean. It was in my blood. …having the head and neck of a serpent, the body of a leopard, the haunches of a lion, and the feet of a deer, and estimates it to be 3 meters in length and 1.5 meters in height, with an unknown weight. Addendum: Director Bouquet can see it because his father was a neglectful selfish prick who only treated him like a son whenever he felt like it. The man spent more time with his other family and left Emile without a real father figure. Emile grew up with an absent stranger for a father and resented him his whole life. I sighed. Why should I? He didn't even visit ME when I was in the hospital! His "other" family can take care of him. Besides, I'm busy with work. He'll be fine.4 Hello, Lam — Emile. Sorry. It's your dad. Uh, they tell me you may not be able to make it. I hope you can, but if you can't… I just want to thank you for all the times you've helped me. I'm sorry if I imposed too much on you. It's your life, not mine. I hope you have a good one. I'm proud of what you've become. Uh, I guess that's it. I love you.5 My family hasn't spoken to me since. Delete, delete, delete… Addendum 2: Bouquet can perceive the QUESTING BEAST because his father, Frederick Bouquet, believed he was descended from KING PELLINORE, and it was his destiny, and his son's destiny, and the destiny of his descendants, to pursue the creature, forever. "And that's it," I said, folding the paper up. I put it in my drawer and went back to work. "Arthur and the Questing Beast" by Henry Justice Ford . . . Audio Log 07 of Director Bouquet Nine days passed before I got any updates on Bodmall and Iota-44. Apparently the Battle of Roncevaux Pass, where Charlemagne had met his greatest defeat, had been transported to the modern era, in the exact location where it had originally taken place. The events played out precisely as they had over thirteen-hundred years ago, with a Basque army attacking the king's rearguard, cutting them off and wiping them out. When the skirmish concluded, a period of some days passed before it repeated itself. The Horizon Initiative had wanted to lay claim to Durandal, Charlemagne's famous sword, as well as the king's champion, Roland, and even the king himself. The Chaos Insurgency had merely wanted to put an end to the temporal loop, likely as a token of goodwill towards the GOC. Why they suddenly wanted to get on the Coalition's good side was still unknown, though the Overseers hypothesized that a much grander joint operation was on the Insurgency's mind. This was clearly upsetting, but for the time being, the Foundation decided to remain neutral in the conflict, only quarantining the area away from the general public. Well, stranger things, I suppose. All this and a Questing Beast to consider. Bodmall was returned to me three days after I received this news, and Iota-44 was given a week's leave before their next assignment. As my own gesture of goodwill, I offered to buy Cochon and his team a round at the pub of their choice, so I was fairly occupied one sordid evening. The next day, it was business as usual. I was still curious about the creature I had encountered, but wondered if it was wise to bring it up to the Overseers. A cognitohazard that only I could see? Sure, that doesn't sound suspicious at all. I decided to wait until the matter of the looping temporal anomaly was resolved before making any further moves — after all, Site-278 was already busy with their normal affairs. Deep down I knew this was just my way of distancing myself from the matter, just as I had done so many times before. This whole affair was like a wound that kept opening, sometimes of my own volition, and I knew that if I didn't resolve it one way or another, I'd end up a derelict mess. But it wasn't as though I could ask for anyone's advice. The only person who'd be of any help to me… I requested a brief leave of absence around the middle of the month, and was granted three days. Then I did the stupidest thing imaginable, and went back to the place where I had first encountered the creature. Any sign of it had long since faded. The fields were unmolested, the forest serene and aloof. The locals were more concerned with rumors of the "ghostly battles", and any sound of baying dogs came from pets or strays. I had lost it. Or maybe I had only been losing my mind, and had become trapped in delusions, consumed by guilt and regret after thinking about my father so much. Perhaps I had only imagined those tracks, and had envisioned a monster where there was none. Working with the Foundation messes with your mind in ways no hallucinogen could hope to match; perhaps I really did just need a break to cool off and unwind. Now that I was thinking a bit more clearly, I had to laugh a little. How silly, to think that a cognitohazard got to choose who could perceive it and who couldn't! I'd honestly appreciate that; we'd be able to understand more anomalies that way. I resolved to spend the rest of my days in peace and relaxation, forgetting my troubles for awhile. Audio Log 08 of Director Bouquet A few days after I returned, the situation in Roncevaux escalated: an invisible force had thrown itself into the fray, attacking people on both sides. As the Foundation didn't want the Veil of Secrecy to be torn down any more than it already was — or just as likely, for the Global Occult Coalition to get involved and turn this into an ugly war — they decided to finally intervene. Iota-44 would be joined by Eta-10, the team that specialized in cognitohazards, as well as Eta-77, who dealt with religious anomalies. I wasn't too surprised when Cochon requested my assistance in the endeavor. He must've felt that the sudden appearance of this new anomaly was related to the tracks that I had seen — or else thought of me as a specialist. I guess that's what I get for making up little white lies, but I accepted his request. Something in the back of my mind told me that this was no coincidence. In an unusual reversal, Cochon insisted that Bodmall accompany me, while I was hesitant. I felt that as head of security for Site-278, she didn't need to be involved in this any more. We already had plenty of backup, and while Bodmall was competent enough, this was something beyond her expertise. Apparently "expertise" is exactly why Cochon wanted her along. Not only had she been present for the initial investigation, but had worked alongside Iota-44 afterwards, and frankly, knew the situation between the Insurgency and Horizon better than anyone else coming into it, including me. It was still my say at the end, but I must admit, I had a considerable amount of bias as I acceded to his request. Together our sizeable convoy drove through the French countryside, as Cochon and the Captains of Eta-10 and 77 convened to go over the plan. We'd send word to the Insurgency and Horizon of our arrival and make clear our intent. The Foundation would not become involved with the temporal anomaly, or the parties laying claim to it; they would only quietly slip in, steal away with the second anomaly, and deal with it on their own terms. Of course, none of us expected this plan to go smoothly, but order were orders — and it was the best chance we had. The message was sent. We didn't get a response. Audio Log 09 of Director Bouquet None of us were expecting a warm welcome when we arrived. Cochon warned us that the Insurgency and Horizon might forget about this latest threat and end up mowing us down instead. You'd think watching your people getting killed by an unseen entity would've endowed them with a bit of sense. I said as much; Cochon shrugged, spat, and grumbled something about human nature. Things got uncomfortably quiet after that. Eventually he cleared his throat and informed me that I'd be with Eta-10, trying to root this problem out. Eta-77 and Iota-44 would be responsible for keeping everyone off our backs. We weren't there to fight, he emphasized, even though his eyes burned like hot coals: "but you can damn well bet we'll retaliate if we have to." I turned to the Captain of Eta-10, a woman named Mishima with a scar on her forehead, entrusting her with my life. She returned the favor by entrusting me with their success. No pressure. Our convoy halted about half a kilometer away from the main battle; I was given binoculars and told to scan around. All I saw were tanks, mechanical suits, armaments, foot soldiers, infantry, explosions, flashes of light, smoke, fire, mayhem. Occasionally I'd get a glimpse of a Basque platoon skirmishing with Frankish soldiers, antiquated cavalry charging, the glint of armor. My skin crawled with primeval pleasure as I heard Roland's horn sounding, and I had to restrain myself from joining the fray. I told Mishima what I saw. "What about the second anomaly?" she said. "Nothing so far," I admitted. I continued my vigil, trying to pick up on anything unusual. I thought I saw something odd in the distance and had just looked away to alert Mishima when the chilling scream of a missile broke our stakeout. Voices screamed for us to take cover; Mishima tackled me to the ground, covering me from the blizzard of dust and mortar and flame. The impact was nowhere near our position but the shockwaves still rattled my bones and sent my ears ringing. I wondered if I'd choke again if ordered to retreat — but I never got to find out, as Mishima screamed for us to hold our ground. An improvised barrier was put up and the Captain roared at me to get back to work. "We find this thing and capture it today, ladies!" she bellowed. Another missile fell out of the sky, closer to our position. The barriers held; my stomach and eardrums weren't so lucky. I glared hotly through the binoculars, trying to steady my shaky hands as the fighting drew closer to our position. Damn it, I thought, can't they take this somewhere else? Intermingled with the whistling and blaring artillery were the shouts and screams of the two adversary forces. I got so used to hearing this as I searched for our invisible prize that I didn't notice how loud they had gotten until it burst into our encampment. Chaos Insurgents were scattering wildly, gurgling and choking on terror, their ranks broken and disorganized. I had half a second to take all this in before a monstrous shape dredged from ancient legend bounded across the battlefield, flattening two soldiers with its hooves, its neck coiled around a third, crushing them to death. Their blood seeped out like juice from a squeezed fruit; I covered my mouth lest I vomit — or scream. In a flash they were partways in the mouth of the monster, its scales undulating as it swallowed its prey whole. I could do nothing but stare, first in abject horror, then in wonder. Everything seemed to stand still in that instant. The fighting had broken, the screams silenced, the calamity put on hold, all so that I could behold the creature. It was the exact same chimera I had seen at the river, in my father's books, in the legends passed down for centuries. It was real, nakedly real, an aberration tearing down all the assurances and reasoning I had built up around me. It was my father, pointing at me. It was my past, brought into my present. It was a wound ripped open. It was my dread, and my desire. I couldn't move, or even think: I could only stare at it, just as it stared at me. I mechanically took a step forward. The Questing Beast shirked back. I took another step. It leaped away, not out of fright but defiance. I took one more step and was thrown to the ground. One of Mishima's people shielded my body as shrapnel tore through him. "Did you find it?!" Mishima shrieked. I was too stunned to do anything. When I looked up, the creature had run off. Its absence burst the dam. "There!" I called, my hand burrowing past my savior's bloody shoulder. "It went that way!" "On me!" Mishima called, rallying her forces. She had someone tend to the wounded man, told me not to worry about him, and followed me as I ran after the creature. The war kept up with us for what seemed like hours, every step a brush with death as we wove our way through hostile territory. We pressed on, heedless; I was insane with terror and awe and foolish desire. I found the Beast's tracks and took to them like a bloodhound. I became blind and deaf to the world, laser-focused, literally following in the footsteps of Pellinore, Palomedes, my ancestors, my father. So did Sir Palomedes ever catch it? No… In fact, it's still running around to this day. Why hasn't anyone caught it yet? One day, you'll understand. Audio Log 10 of Director Bouquet The tracks led us into a small ghost town, little more than a cluster of derelict structures. Mishima's people spread out and formed a perimeter, most of them armed with devices that could block, counter, or bypass cognitohazardous effects; a few even had Scranton Reality Anchors. Mishima and three of her people stayed with me as I resumed the hunt. We had a few close calls as I scurried under a brittle archway, or dashed across a weathered bridge, or skirted around a windmill that had toppled over diagonally. One of Mishima's people mentioned how Don Quixote had won a victory after all, which had me pause long enough to smile. Eventually we came to a long-disused cathedral, and fool that I was, I nearly rushed into my death. A shot fired off, impacting only a meter away from my feet. I jumped back and looked up at the steeple, seeing the glint of a sniper rifle in the broken stained glass. Mishima shouted for them to hold their fire and identified herself. The sniper opened up a comm channel, and my blood nearly froze as I recognized the voice on the other side. "Sorry about that, Captain. Me and a few of the Invaders were driven here by the enemy. I…I'm glad I just used a warning shot. Please tell me I didn't almost kill Director Bouquet." "I don't know whether to fire you or promote you, Bodmall," I shouted. She grumbled, cursing and apologizing. I told her to shut up and let us in. It took them awhile to remove the barricades; Bodmall had us take cover as she scared off several stray enemies. By the time the last of us slipped through, I had been handed a gun and fought off at least three Insurgents. Bodmall was aghast and pale as she locked eyes with me. "You're never gonna let me live this down, are you?" she said, tremulous. I told her to forget about it, there were more important concerns at stake, and quickly caught her up on the situation. She told me she hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary, aside from Basque pikemen chasing Frankish cavalry, and had only been holed up in this cathedral for about an hour. Mishima took a moment to radio the other Captains about the situation, ordering them to rendezvous with us. Once she finished her transmission, I asked her what the plan was. We could hide out here and wait, but we'd risk being discovered by the enemy, and the trail would grow cold by then, if it hadn't already. She decided to hold up for a few more minutes and had me climb to a higher vantage point to see if I could pick up where the trail went. Halfway up the first flight, I stumbled, as the cathedral was shattered by an explosion. "Outside, on the double!" I heard Mishima rallying everyone as the cathedral shuddered. Parts of it were already collapsing. I had just enough time to get my bearings before a section of the roof fell, missing me by an arm's length. I coughed, stumbling around blindly, trying to keep my balance as the world tossed and tumbled below me. I made my way through an opening and took a moment to catch my breath. Mishima's people were vacating the area; I also saw Cochon's people mixed in, some returning fire at an unseen foe. I thought I had escaped the worst of it when I realized that Bodmall was no longer with us. I peered around to be sure, calling her name; it was then that I heard someone cursing and groaning from inside the cathedral. Panicking, I ran back inside and saw Bodmall rolling on the ground, knocked completely off balance. I made for her but was tossed about by another explosion. The roof finally collapsed, along with most of the walls. After that, I have no recollection: all I know is that I got out alive. Enclosed: an audiovisual feed transmitted from Director Bouquet's microchip implant. [ Distant gunfire and shouts are heard, gradually growing quieter. A brief silence follows before groaning is heard. Debris is dislodged and removed as the groaning becomes louder. A heap of brittle tiles and planks shifts as visuals are restored. Director Bouquet rises from the pile, moaning. He checks himself for damage, then calls out to Bodmall, but gets no response. He sifts through the wreckage, calling out for her sporadically. He finally spots her arm stretched out from a pile of wood and shingles, and hastily begins to dig. Eventually, he is able to pull her unresponsive body from the wreckage. ] Bouquet: Bodmall! [ He shakes her firmly. There is no response. ] Bodmall! Come on, Bodmall, wake up! Please. Please wake up. Don't be dead. No…no. Bodmall. [ Bouquet begins to panic, hyperventilate, and heavily perspire. He hesitates. ] Iseult. Iseult, please don't die. Please don't die, please, Iseult. Iseult! I'm begging— [ A faint grunt is heard, followed by coughing. ] Bodmall: Now I know how the Wicked Witch of the East felt. [ Bouquet laughs with relief and embraces her. ] Bouquet: That was too close. Bodmall: Tell me about it. [ coughs ] Ow. Guess I'm entitled to some worker's comp. [ Bouquet laughs softly as Bodmall slowly sits up. ] Hey, I guess this makes us even. Bouquet: How so? Bodmall: I saved your life, now you saved mine. Like I [ coughs ] said, you would've done the same. Ow. Bouquet: I guess so. Can you move? Bodmall: Not far. I probably broke a few bones. Um… [ She attempts to stand, winces in pain, and sits down. ] Nope, nope, nope. Sorry. My right leg's giving me hell. Bouquet: Here, let me help. I know it hurts, but we need to get out of here. No telling when the rest of this place is going to collapse. Bodmall: What about [ hisses in pain ] you, sir? Are you hurt? Bouquet: Just some cuts and bruises. I'm running on too much adrenaline to feel anything. [ Bouquet helps her stand, and together they attempt to leave. They manage to escape the cathedral, but neither MTF is in sight. Bodmall requests they rest, so they hobble over to a pile of stones and sit on them. A burst pipe leaking a solid stream of water is nearby. Bouquet helps Bodmall remove her helmet, washing her face and hair. The sound of shouting and gunfire silences. ] Bouquet: It sounds like they've stopped fighting. [ Bodmall appears embarrassed. ] What's wrong? Are you upset at me? Bodmall: No… I just don't like my name, is all. It makes me sound like an old woman. Bouquet: That's silly! Besides, it's a lovely name. [ Bodmall scoffs ] It's the name of a Queen. [ silence ] Bodmall: You know, some kids couldn't even pronounce my name, so I asked everyone to call me "Izzy" growing up. Most people just assumed it was short for — ow — Isadora, which I wish it was. You know, like Isadora Duncan. Bouquet: You'd rather be associated with a dancer than a Queen? Bodmall: Hey, I didn't know I was named after a Queen until you told me. Bouquet: At least your name is dignified. Want to know my first name? Bodmall: Sure, I've always wondered what the "L" stood for. Bouquet: It's Lamerok. Lamerok Emile Bouquet. Bodmall: [ snickers ] Limerick? Bouquet: LAMM-err-ock. And if you think Iseult is a joke, imagine being called Lame-rack for most of your childhood. I had to ask everyone to address me as Emile so I wouldn't get bullied. Bodmall: You have my sympathies, sir. [ Chuckles faintly, then cringes in pain. Bouquet grumbles. ] So where does a name like Lamerok come from, anyway? Is it Irish? Bouquet: No, British, I think. He's one of King Pellinore's sons. Bodmall: Oh! That's the guy you told me about in your story — the one who was hunting that monster! So was Lamerok — aah, damn, that hurts — was he supposed to go after it when his father was killed? Bouquet: I suppose. Either he or one of his brothers, Aglovale and Percival. Oh wait, not him; Percival was destined to go after the Grail. [ silence ] There I go, rambling about nonsense. [ Bodmall smiles, appearing impressed. The sound of footsteps and shouts are heard in the background. ] Ah, looks like help has arrived, hopefully. Bodmall: You think it may be the enemy? Bouquet: Probably not, but just in case… [ Bouquet produces the firearm he was loaned. ] Let's hope it wasn't damaged. Do you have yours? Bodmall: No, I lost it when a cathedral fell on me. It happens. Bouquet: [ chuckles ] Excuses, excuses. [ a pause ] Maybe it's for the best. You look like a stiff breeze could knock you over. Bodmall: [ cringes in pain ] Sir, you know I'd defend you to my dying breath. Bouquet: Do you want me to tie you to a rock so you can die on your feet? Bodmall: What? Bouquet: [ sighs ] Never mind. Just referencing another story that my father told me. [ a long silence ] Bodmall: I'd like to hear more about it. Once we're out of here, I mean. [ Remants of Iota-44 and Eta-10 appear, to their relief. They escort Bodmall and Bouquet to the mobile medical unit. ] . . . Southern Clinic of Parisian Medical Services Acct#: ██████████ Presiding Doctor: J.M. Breaux Patient: Bodmall, Iseult M. Age: 36 Gender: F Chief Security Officer for Site-278. Diagnosis: Broken right tibia. Broken right clavicle and scapula. Broken left ulna. One broken rib, four fractured ribs. Multiple minor contusions & lacerations. Prognosis: Patient is to be treated at Parisian M.S. until further notice. Patient: Bouquet, L. Emile Age: 43 Gender: M Director of Site-278. Diagnosis: Fractured left clavicle. Two fractured ribs. Fractured left radius. Multiple minor contusions & lacerations. Minor smoke inhalation. Prognosis: Patient is to be treated at Parisian M.S. until further notice. By order of O5-11, patient is to be given top-priority treatment. SCP-████ used, results successful. Patient released. . . . Report from Iota-44 Captain L. Cochon: Situation on Navarren border de-escalating in favor of C.I., inquire Cpt. Sult of Eta-77 for further details. 8 dead, 14 wounded, including Dir. Bouquet and C.S.O. Bodmall. Anomaly (temporarily classified 278-G) currently uncontained, whereabouts unknown. [Update] Dir. Bouquet released, assigned to relocate anomaly #278-G. Eta-10 and Iota-44 assisting. Bouquet currently researching anomaly #278-G, first stop was the former domicile of his father. Took action to remove & amnesticize current residents. Confiscated a number of materials related to anomaly #278-G, i.e., books, maps, charts, accounts, etc. Present location: town of Langon, outside Bordeaux. [Update] Dir. Bouquet provided an SCP Document for anomaly #278-G, reclassifying it with Overseer approval. ENCLOSED Close Document Item #: SCP-8089 Special Containment Procedures: MTF Eta-10 (See No Evil) and Iota-44 (Norman Invaders) are currently assigned to locate and detain SCP-8089. Cooperation with Site-278 regarding this missive is ongoing. SCP-8089 mainly resides in the United Kingdom but has been detected on the Navarren border between France and Spain, and may also reside in Germany, Ireland, Italy, and northern Portugal. Description: SCP-8089 refers to a chimerical entity originating in the Isle of Anglesey, Wales, United Kingdom. The entity naturally emits a cognitohazardous sensory field that prohibits nearly all perception of it. It does not affect auditory sensations, however, and has been described as sounding like a pack of baying hounds. Persons sharing direct familial history with Site-278 Director Bouquet are able to fully perceive the entity, through methods currently unknown. Bouquet has described the creature as having the head and neck of a serpent, the body of a leopard, the haunches of a lion, and the feet of a deer, and estimates it to be three meters in length and one point five meters in height, with an unknown weight. [Update] Dir. Bouquet's physical and mental well-being deteriorating, necessitating forced rest. Resumed study & pursuit two days later. [Update] Dir. Bouquet's physical and mental condition worsening. Sent request to O5 Council to abandon pursuit. Request denied. Contacted western European branches of Foundation for assistance. [Update] Dir. Bouquet's condition completely prohibits him from pursuing SCP-8089. Taken to Foundation hospital for physical examination. Residing doctor forwarded results to Overseer Council. Eta-10 and Iota-44 expanded search area using information gathered by Bouquet. [Update] Dir. Bouquet released one week later. Resumed pursuit into Spain & Portugal. [Update] Dir. Bouquet's condition critical. Sent second request to O5 Council to abandon pursuit. Request pending. [Update] Situation on Navarren border resolved in favor of C.I., Roncevaux anomaly presumed neutralized. Foundation diverted resources to studying the area, pursuit of SCP-8089 halted indefinitely. Dir. Bouquet recalled to Site-278. Iota-44 and Eta-10 given a week's leave before reassignment. —Luis Cochon, Mobile Task Force Iota-44, S.C.P. Foundation . . . Audio Log 11 of Director Bouquet Yes, this is an obsession. Yes, this is unhealthy. But the wound is fully opened now and will never heal. I can't stop myself. I have to find it. Have to get back on track. I've put too much of my time in this to back out now. It… [ sighs ] You win, dad! Okay? Is that what you want to hear? That you were right? That I'm some idiotic drone who'll follow his so-called "destiny" if he's pushed hard enough? Is this about me not coming to see you when you were dying? Huh? Are you the specter at my shoulder now? Is this your way of making me feel guilty from beyond the grave?! [ silence ] God, I need help. I'm completely losing my mind. I saw it that day, I swear! I watched as the Beast attacked those Chaos Insurgents, and swallowed one of them whole. I saw it with my own eyes. How delirious could I possibly be to make up something like that? I… I want to find this thing. I need to. For closure, for my job, for my father, I don't care. It doesn't matter. It just needs to be done so I can move on with my life. But nobody ever catches the Questing Beast. The best knights of the Round Table couldn't bring it to heel. [ sighs ] Damn it, listen to me. I'm forty-three years old and talking about stupid myths and legends. I'm really losing it. But what other choice do I have? If I leave it alone it'll just fester. But I can't catch it either; I haven't even found a single clue in all this time. So what the hell am I supposed to do, huh? Dad? Answer me, you ass! What am I supposed to do?! [ a long silence ] What do I want to do? I just want to see it. One more time. To know I'm not going insane — or if I am, to know that it's for a good reason. I want… [ silence ] I wish Iseult were here. Heh. Heh, heh. [ laughs weakly ] Iseult! The Queen Palomedes could never have. It's just a coincidence, Lamerok. Plenty of people have that name. Just a fucking stupid coincidence. [ silence ] But I do wish she were here. [ singing ] No one in the world ever gets what they want, and that is beautiful… Note: Two days after Cochon filed his report, Director Bouquet booked an unauthorized flight to Holyhead, on the Isle of Anglesey in northwest Wales, U.K. When detained by Foundation agents, Bouquet claimed he was still in pursuit of SCP-8089, believing it to reside in the area. Bouquet underwent psychological counseling before being released and returned to Site-278, where he was put under temporary house arrest. Security footage from 17/4/24 Close [Time: Nine days into Director Bouquet's house arrest. Morning. Bouquet is in his office, quietly going through paperwork. A knock is heard at his door; it opens to reveal Senior Researcher Phillipe Offet.] Offet: Morning, sir. Bouquet: Ah, good morning, Offet. I've got your papers here. [ He hands Offet a folder. ] Offet: You finished them, and three days ahead of schedule. Very nice. Bouquet: I've had lots of time to catch up. Would you care for some tea? Offet: Thank you. [ A pause as they both drink. ] Oh, just so you know, the outside world hasn't burned down yet. Bouquet: [ laughs softly ] That's good to hear. [ An alarm suddenly goes off. ] Offet: Or has it? [ laughs awkwardly ] Bouquet: Don't worry, it's just another drill. Excuse me. [ He turns on the Public Announcement system. ] Attention, this is Director Bouquet. There has been a containment breach. All exits and entrances to Site Two Seventy-Eight have been sealed. All faculty and staff, remain calm and proceed to your designated safe rooms until further notice. Security teams will handle the rest. Repeat, [truncated]. [ Bouquet turns his monitor off and resumes drinking. ] Offet: You're not overseeing the drill? Bouquet: Not today. I need to see what my staff can do if I'm cut off from them. They'll check in with me once they've cleared it. Offet: What if they don't? Bouquet: Well, they have forty-five minutes. After that, the Site is considered lost, one-hundred percent casualty rate. So far that's only happened two times. Offet: Mmm. You know, your predecessor failed two drills: her first and her last. She claimed she failed them on purpose, to give her staff an idea of what happens when they lose. People tend to remember their failures more than their successes. Bouquet: Isn't that the truth… [ Bouquet drinks and watches various security feeds. ] Offet: Are you still thinking about Roncevaux? Or SCP-8089? Bouquet: Is it that obvious? A part of me is honestly relieved. I had no idea how badly I was deteriorating until I was forcibly restrained in a bed, straps and all. I'd never gone after anything with such zeal before. I… It sounds strange, Offet, but as dogged as I was, I was also…completely happy. Happier than I can ever remember being. It felt like I had a real purpose in life, and I… I don't know how to describe it. It was the ultimate desire and I chased it with everything I had, even to my detriment. And now I'm here. Offet: Sounds…ambivalently complex. Bouquet: Oh, it was that, and more than I can say. It was horror and fun, bliss and torment, teetering on the edge of salvation and destruction, without a care in the world where I'd fall. Ha! If I had even half a clearance from the Overseers, I'd run out the door right now, to hell with my duties and this drill. Selfish. [ He pauses to finish his drink. ] And foolish. Offet: Would it even be possible for you to get that clearance, though? [ Bouquet looks away from the video feed. ] Bouquet: I honestly don't know. Maybe I missed the one opportunity I had. Maybe if I had kept going after it, just a little bit more… Offet: Sounds like a nasty thorn in your side. Or an addiction. Bouquet: Hence all the work I've been doing. It's an effective remedy for temptation. [ He returns to observing the video feed. ] Hmm, they're having some difficulty. Normally Bodmall is there to guide them, but she's still in the hospital. Offet: When do they expect to release her? Bouquet: Oh, sometime next week, or so I hear. They tell me she's anxious to get back to work. I'd hoped she'd rest a little more; she hasn't had a vacation in two years, you know. Offet: So give her one. Bouquet: I can't force it on her, she needs to ask for it. Married to her job, though, just like me. Offet: [ softly ] I wonder… [ A long silence follows as the two men observe the security team through video feeds. A green light flashes on Bouquet's monitor. ] Bouquet: Ah, there we go. Twenty-four minutes, thirty-one seconds. A bit slow, but acceptable. Our record's just under nine minutes. Offet: Looks like they did just fine without their leaders. Bouquet: Well, they're not insects; they've been trained to handle most issues regardless of command. Excuse me. (over the P.A. system) Attention, this is Director Bouquet. The security breach has been resolved successfully. Faculty and staff may exit their safe rooms and resume their activities. All maintenance teams are to report to their assigned areas for cleanup. This has been a drill. Repeat: [truncated]. Thank you for your cooperation. Offet: One down, two to go. Is it too heavy-handed to advise you to "hang in there"? Bouquet: Not at all, just so long as I don't do it from a gallows. Offet: [ laughs quietly ] Well, thanks again for the expedience. I'll see you around, sir. Bouquet: Hmm, well, it's not as though I can leave. Later. . . . Audio Log 12 of Director Bouquet A month passed. Bodmall returned to Site-278 in good health and good spirits, and life went on as usual. We completed our drills, performed studies, contained anomalies, filled out paperwork, ate, slept, washed up, and did it all over again. It was…normal. And painful. I debated going out once my house arrest was lifted. There had been a betting pool among my coworkers on how long I'd last before I cracked and threw myself outside in hysterics to continue my mad quest. Nobody had wagered I'd last the entire time. I hung the chart in my office out of spite, or perhaps pride, and made sure to discipline everyone involved. If they had the time to waste on this, how much more work could they… [ sighs ] Hello, Kettle. I'm Mr. Pot. They had an escort drive me home the first time I went outside, and they were there to pick me up the next morning. I guess they still didn't trust me, even after I had served my time. I understand their line of thinking, but how could they understand mine? To even begin to comprehend what I was feeling, what I had experienced… But at times I barely understood it myself. As the days rolled by, I wondered if it really was some psychosomatic trick, the seed of insanity nurtured by my father's fancies and my sporadic, even prodigal relationship with him. To this day, a part of me wishes that I could've had a real relationship with him, that he had been there for me, cared about me, beyond his weekly two-hour visits. Had I wanted there to be a Questing Beast to stand in for him, and conjured it up out of pure need? And now, here I am, chasing it feverishly, doomed to never grasp it, only to yearn. A few more days passed. I decided to visit my father's grave. My escort stopped the car before they got halfway to the cemetery. They explained that they had just received word of Horizon agents in the area, likely hunting down stray Chaos Insurgents. Probably still sore about losing Roncevaux, trying to salvage what they could. We weren't in any immediate danger, but I'd have to abandon my plans for the moment. I sighed and acceded, whispering an apology to my father. We had barely been moving for a few minutes before we were attacked. Note: in the interest of accuracy, Bouquet's account of the events in question will temporarily shift to the recording made by his microchip implant. [ Bouquet and three Site-278 escorts (Boule, Lorimar, and Soniere) are riding together on the dirt road when they are ambushed by fourteen members of the Horizon Initiative. They attempt to flee, but the car's tires are blown out. Bouquet is ordered to get down as his escorts fire out the car's windows. ] [ Screaming is heard. Bouquet looks out the back window and gasps. A very faint barking sound is heard. Eight Horizon agents are terminated in a matter of seconds; cause of death is unknown. The remaining agents retreat; Boule and Soniere pursue them while Lorimar remains. ] Lorimar: Stay here in the car, sir! Bouquet: [ muttering ] Not this time… Not this time… [ He attempts to leave. ] Lorimar: Sir, I'm permitted to restrain you by force if nec— [ Lorimar screams, all contact is cut off. Bouquet runs away from the car, toward the cemetery. He continues muttering "Not this time." ] [ Shots are heard. A brief silence follows. ] Bouquet: Did they get it? [ Bouquet continues to run, pausing intermittently to catch his breath. During one break, he looks at the ground, whispering "Ah, they did get you. I can see your blood." He is eventually seen passing through the cemetery gates. He pauses approximately twenty meters away from a grave marked "Frederick Bouquet". ] Audio Log 13 of Director Bouquet There it was, curled up in helpless dignity next to my father's grave, lowing and whining softly. It didn't move, except to breathe, its spotted hide expanding and contracting rhythmically, the forked tongue darting out every few seconds. It had been staring at me ever since I arrived, wild and imposing even in serenity. It didn't seem to mind the wound it had got — already, I think, it was healing — but it was still sickly, wan, wasting away. Dying. And it was my fault. I cautiously took a step towards it, then another. It blinked, patiently waiting. I drew closer, my heart leaping wildly. It made no move. Closer. My arm trembled as I reached out to touch it. One more step. I placed my hand on its body, feeling its sheer, inexorable solidness. Its warmth. Its pulse. It was real. The Questing Beast was real. I was touching it. "I did it," I whispered emptily. I looked directly into its serpentine eyes, nearly on the verge of tears, so awed was I by the spectacle. "I caught you." Just like that. Sixteen centuries of effort and months of debilitating madness, all for this one moment. I was the one who finally did it. I was shaking so much that I couldn't even think properly. "This is what I wanted," I murmured slowly, "right? To find you. Ah…as a member of the SCP Foundation, it's…it's my…m-my job to, to contain anomalies. Like you." I swallowed; my throat felt dry. "I have…a document already written up. I just…n-need to… To report you and bring you in, and…that'll be that. Just bring you in," I whispered, caressing the Beast's fur. "Do my job. Study you and move on to the next one." I began sobbing. I don't know why. No. I know why. I looked down and saw my father, frail and gaunt from cancer. My family said that he had been asking for me up until the moment he died. Where's Emile? Where is my son? I shuddered and reached my hand out. He held it, faint and cold, but still steady. I sat down on the grass, still touching the Beast. It gingerly laid its long scaly head on my lap, and I heard it whine in sympathy. I laid a hand on its head, still crying. "I'm sorry," I whispered, unable to control myself. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" I buried my tear-streaked face in its flank, just like a child. I have no idea how long I sat there like that, weeping over a monster. I could do it, I realized. Alert my companions, wait for them to retrieve it. We'd contain the Questing Beast and study it; I'd offer my insight to the research team. They'd credit me for its capture, I'd get a pat on the back from the Overseers, and…life would go on. I'd go through the drills, shuffle through paperwork, and make room for the next anomaly. And the one after that. And the one after that. On and on until I died. I could have done all that, and it would have been…fine. After all, what's the point of hunting a beast if you never capture it? I caressed the Questing Beast's head with my hand. It had been a part of my family since the fall of Rome. It was as much a part of my life as the Foundation, and Bodmall, and my father. And here I was, about to end it. So did Sir Palomedes ever catch it? No… In fact, it's still running around to this day. Why hasn't anyone caught it yet? One day, you'll understand. I dried my eyes. The Beast moved its head, sensing that I wished to stand up. I did, and gave it some space. We exchanged silent glances for a long moment. My voice came out tremulously. "It…w-will take s-some time…f-for backup to arrive. W-when I call them. We're out…in the m-middle of nowhere — the terrain's rough, they have to worry about Horizon. It c-could be…a long time before they get here. Very long time." The creature raised its head, sensing my intentions. My hands convulsed wildly as I fumbled for my phone. "Darn it," I whispered, dropping it. I picked it up and noticed the charge was almost gone. "Oh, shoot," I hissed, "the battery's almost dead. M-my call…may get cut off. That could…delay them even more." The creature now stood up in triumph, its tail swishing. "I mean, they'd still find me; I have my microchip. No way I can turn that off. But…" I beamed at the Beast with joy. "You'd have one hell of a head start." It bounded around playfully, like a great dog reuniting with a beloved friend. I laughed. "I'm shaking so much my hands are slippery!" I remarked. I couldn't push any buttons on my phone for the life of me! I must have misdialed four or five times before… Suddenly the beast stiffened in alarm, and I heard someone running across the way. My heart sank momentarily, fearing that my time was up, that I would have to make my choice in blood, one way or the other, and live with it. Note: in the interest of accuracy, Bouquet's account of the events in question will temporarily shift to the recording made by his microchip implant. [ Bouquet's three escorts are seen approaching him. Lorimar is nursing an injury. ] Boule: Sir, are you all r— Bouquet: Stay back! All of you! I'm not going back there! Boule: We don't want to fight you, sir, we just want to help. Calm down and come with us quietly. You're still in a lot of dang— [ Boule is suddenly lifted off the ground by an unseen force. She lets out a pained cry as she is squeezed by the force. ] [ Bouquet faces the empty space beneath Boule, shouting frantically. ] Bouquet: Wait, no! Stop, stop, stop! Please, please don't! Let her go, please, I'm begging you! They're not here to hurt us! [ Boule is suspended in midair briefly before being placed on the ground. She is severely bruised but alive. Bouquet sighs with relief. The other two escorts stare at each other. ] Soniere: Well, shit! . . . Enclosed: an audio-only conversation held between Bouquet, Cochon, Mishima, and O5-11, four hours later. [ After a long period of silence, O5-11 takes a deep breath. ] O5-11: Where is the entity now? Bouquet: I apologize, sir: it escaped while my escorts detained me. If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say it's within a fifty-kilometer radius of the cemetery. I have no idea how fast it goes. O5-11: I see. This is the last thing we need after the Roncevaux debacle. We still don't even know what the Insurgency is up to. [ a pause ] It really did a number on you, didn't it? Bouquet: Yes, sir. [ silence ] O5-11: Well, it's an anomaly, so it needs to be contained. [ Bouquet grunts softly but remains silent. ] O5-11: Or, at the very least, studied. Correct? Bouquet: Uh, yes. Yes, sir. O5-11: And barring some new discovery coming to light, you are the only person in the Foundation capable of doing so. Correct? Bouquet: I believe so, sir. O5-11: And if you were to contain it… Bouquet: Sir, in my professional opinion, I believe that would terminate the entity. Hence, in order to study it, we forego containment. [ silence ] O5-11: Captain Mishima, what is your opinion on the matter? Mishima: Well, sir, if we cannot contain the entity, or study it without Director Bouquet's guidance, then we have him pursue and observe. With supervision. Cochon: And restraint. If we go through with this, we can't have him dropping unconscious every fortnight. O5-11: No… [ silence ] O5-11: You will be assigned a single member from Iota-44 and Eta-10, to be rotated weekly, for your protection and assistance. I will also assign your chief security officer for the same. Together you will pursue SCP-8089 and make what observations you can. Bouquet: Sir! Uh, I don't know what to s— O5-11: One moment, now: I'm a realist, not a romantic. I expect regular progress reports. If you slip up, I'm recalling you, adding a demotion, and cancelling the endeavor. You'll take full responsibility for its termination. Is that clear? Bouquet: Yes sir, I understand, sir. Thank you, sir. O5-11: Good. Cochon, Mishima, I'll leave the matter of his retinue to your discretion. I expect the first report within six days, Bouquet. You're all dismissed. Cochon and Mishima: Yes, sir. [they log off] O5-11: Oh, before you head off, Bouquet, there's one more thing I'd like to add. Bouquet: Sir? [ silence ] O5-11: Just remember: no one in the world ever gets what they want. Happy hunting. Bouquet: Thank you, sir. . . . The room was small, but it would suit them well for tonight. They each had a bed and a little privacy, and all the world before them tomorrow. Lamerok looked out the window, smiling at the countryside. For a moment, he imagined he saw his father in the distance, proud and strong, saddled on a mighty steed, a banner waving in the breeze as he thrust at the sky with a lance, shouting Tally-ho with all his joy. "Nice view." He turned around, watching as Iseult closed her laptop and stood next to him. He looked outside and the image was gone. "Yes," he whispered, "it is. Finished sending the report?" "Yeah. Not much to say, though." "Well, we've only been at it for a week. The Beast never made it easy for Sir Palomedes, either." Lamerok sighed, sat down on his bed, and opened a packet of headache pills. He took one and rubbed his temples. "But what a week. Leaving Site-278, flying all the way to England, driving for nine hours straight…" "Thanks for making me do that, by the way," Iseult grumbled. Lamerok grinned. "You're welcome. But three false trails, hours wandering around rough terrain, constant rain, missing more meals than I can count — or showers! Oh, and let's not forget: one of us had to put up with Renalt and Shimada for a whole day, while nursing a three-day headache, on top of an upset stomach, with a report to compose that our jobs depend on…" "And me without my Stradivarius," Iseult chuckled, as she mimicked playing a violin. Lamerok feigned amusement. "Not exactly 'happily ever after', is it? If I had known this would cause me so much trouble, I wouldn't have gone through with it. No wonder nobody's ever caught this thing." Iseult smiled, sat down next to him, and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, but it hasn't been all bad. Has it?" He smiled softly, and touched her hand. "No." He looked up, glancing out the window again. Renalt and Shimada would be scouting the area for another hour, at least. Plenty of time to be alone. "Want to hear a secret?" he whispered. Iseult's eyes glistened. "Always." "I wasn't completely up front with O5-11 during our meeting. Well, that sounds awful: I really only omitted a minor incident. When my escorts came to retrieve me, I asked them to give me a moment with my father. I figured it might be the last time I'd be able to visit his grave, so… Anyway, I told him that I forgave him for everything — for every wrong he may have done to me. Then I asked for him to forgive me of the same. I don't personally believe in an afterlife, but I'd like to think that he heard me, wherever he is." Lamerok dabbed at his eyes while Iseult sat in respectful silence. "So!" he exclaimed after a moment. "Where to next? I was thinking we could go to Wales. You've got family there, right?" "Yeah, just my mother." "You think you might visit her?" "What?" she snorted, nervously laughing as she parted her hair back. "And bring you with me?" "Why not? The Questing Beast first came from Wales, or so my father's research says. Two birds, one stone." Lamerok shrugged, smiling. Iseult turned away shyly. "She…she might get the wrong impression. About you." "Well, I don't have to meet her," he said softly. "We can each do our own thing for awhile." Iseult continued averting her gaze, hoping that Lamerok couldn't see her face. "Yeah, maybe. But business first." "Fair enough," he agreed. "Oh, before I forget: a memento of our adventures." Lamerok reached over, opened the bedside table, and presented her with a small box. She stared at it with some incredulity before opening it. Inside was a silver chain, inexpensive and plain. "I have my own," he said, somewhat proudly. He lifted it up partways, squeezing his thumb and forefinger against something. "When the Questing Beast left, I noticed it had dropped a few of its scales. I took two of them as a souvenir and made them into a necklace. Go on, put it on." Iseult stared. She couldn't see the scales. "Jewelry isn't exactly my thing." She added, with a stilted laugh, "You couldn't find a scented candle?" "Sorry, our friend wasn't that considerate." He smiled warmly, and she, not wanting to appear ungrateful, looped it around her neck. "How does it look?" she said anxiously. Lamerok pursed his lips, holding his chin in appraisal. "Hmm, you're right: jewelry doesn't suit you. But it doesn't suit me, either, yet here I am." She laughed. "I guess I'm keeping it, then!" He sighed with relief and smiled sadly. "I'm sorry. I know you can't see it. It probably just looks like any ordinary necklace." "No, it's fine," she said, beaming with joy, fighting to suppress her tears. She clutched the chain in her fist, and for a fleeting moment, thought she felt something smooth and circular yielding to her grip. "I know it's there." Footnotes 1. All Foundation agents require a microchip tracking and vitality implant when they go out in the field. 2. Following the Norman invasion of 1066, William I spent fourteen years attempting to conquer Wales, and William II spent another thirteen years attempting to conquer it, with debatable success. 3. Enclosed is a verbatim copy of the aforementioned document. 4. Excerpt from a telephone conversation Bouquet held with his sister, embedded into the audio log by Bouquet. 5. A voice message Bouquet embedded into the audio log from his personal phone. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8089" by Mister_Toasty, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8089. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-8089/Arthur_and_the_Questing_Beast_%28full%29.jpg Name: Arthur and the Questing Beast Author: Henry Justice Ford License: CC0 Public Domain Source Link: [https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Arthur_and_the_Questing_Beast_%28full%29.jpg] |
SCP-8090 | esoteric-class | A forgotten, bloodied past tears it's way back into the present as a beast conceived from the decaying flesh of a dying god resurfaces from the depths. SCP-8090 - PROFANITY / PROVIDENCE / PURGATORY Wordcount (P1): 6,600 Reading time (P1): 24 minutes, roughly Total: 37,000 words, 2 hours and 15 minutes roughly ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} by Roufhous ACT I: PROFANITY Multiplex class anomaly The following SCP designation relates to two separate, distinct anomalous items, and have been filed under the same document for purposes of relativity alongside contextual significance. As such, the general item number of this file collectively regards both subjects. Roman numerals have been employed as a suffix to discern either subject. FILE 1/3 Operation Transcript Foreward: With newly acquired information, several units of Mobile Task Force operatives were deployed to secure LOI-850. 16:46: Four SIGMA units begin their descent, all carrying squadrons of MTF agents from Nu-7 ("Hammer Down") and Beta-777 ("Hecate's Spear"). The sound of weapons being readied is heard as Captain Michaels discusses the target with his team aboard SIGMA-1. 16:47: The units break through the clouds. Inside, Director Roufhous emerges from the back of SIGMA-1 and enters the cockpit. They stare at the target down below as it comes into view while applying their mask. 16:49: Captain Michaels racks a shotgun and the group goes silent. Cpt. Michaels: Men, it brings me no joy to say that some of you will not be walking out of this operation alive. It's a dirty job, but somebody has to do it. We have to do it. Cpt. Michaels: Now, those savages forfeited their humanity long ago. Do not be afraid. Do not treat them like people; they will not show you that same cordiality. We do this fast and clean. Cpt. Michaels: Remember why we do this, lads. For a better tomorrow! Nu-7: Yes sir! 16:52: SIGMA-1 reaches an altitude of 140 meters and dropping. Roufhous steps out from the cockpit and passes by the MTF as the side door opens. The agents protest but are reassured by Captain Michaels as the director leaps out from the helicopter. 17:04: SIGMA-1, -2. and -3 land at the base of LOI-850. Agents file out from each vehicle, amounting to twenty-two operatives in total, while SIGMA-4 sets itself up nearby as reserves. Captains Michaels, DeMarcus, and Vega lead the agents up the mountain. 17:06: Entering the target's perimeter, operatives fill out into a courtyard and identify four seemingly unarmed members of GOI-850. Agents close in, rifles raised, and move to secure the humanoid entities. 17:07: The largest humanoid among the four raises its fists in front of its face as it charges at the operatives. After five seconds of sustained fire, the entity's body slumps before the group. The rest all shout as they watch this unfold and are safely secured by the agents. 17:08: Captains Vega and Michaels enter a small room at the back of the compound, where they find Roufhous standing in front of a red and blue metal doorframe etched with various thaumic runes. 17:08: Captain Vega steps forward, along with several members from Beta-777. They begin work on disenchanting the gateway. Michaels moves up with his shotgun and aims it at the seam of the doorway. Faint white lights shine as the operatives work. Soon after, a spark ignites and floats to the ground. Vega nods. Vega: Good to go. 17:10: Michaels blasts the way open. The agents file into a brief hallway and enter a grand lobby with two additional floors above them, where multiple humanoid entities can be seen fleeing deeper into the facility. 170:10: Captains Michaels and DeMarcus start moving out to deal with them but are stopped as two large humanoids land in their way, swords in hand. Item#: 8090(I) Level4 Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: ekhi Risk Class: danger link to memo Fig 1.1 Main lobby. Assigned Site Outpost-8090-1, Outpost-8090-2 Site Director Dir. Pendant Roufhous Research Head SR. Adelaine Pepper, Helius Krow Assigned MTF Nu-7 ("Hammer Down") Assigned Site Outpost-8090-1, Outpost-8090-2 Site Director Dir. Pendant Roufhous Research Head SR. Adelaine Pepper, Helius Krow Assigned MTF Nu-7 ("Hammer Down") Special Containment Procedures: Containment plans are, as of yet, still in development. Current drafts will be reviewed and revised once SCP-8090 and all subsequent parts of its anomaly have been fully recorded and analyzed. SCP-3580 is to be held in a Class-8 Hazardous Humanoid Containment Chamber unit outfitted with thaumaturgy-inhibiting thaumic wards.Localized thaumaturgic incantations created for certain key purposes such as protecting, concealing, or revealing the subject of the ritual.. Allowing it access to its original prosthetic arms is strictly prohibited; those are to be held in an anomalous item locker inside Outpost-8090-2. All captured members of GOI-850 are to be held in customly modified Class-7, 8, or 9 Hazardous Humanoid Containment Chamber units, depending on the subject. Interviews are ongoing, namely with POI-8090-1. All contained humanoids are to be held within Outpost-8090-2. Aside from exploration attempts, personnel are prohibited from entering SCP-8090-A. Guards are to be stationed there and around SCP-8090. SCP-8090-Ω is not to be disturbed. Description: SCP-8090 is a facility located within the Southern Alps mountain range of New Zealand, belonging to GOI-850 ("Order of the Archine Eclipse"), acting as the group's main base of operations. SCP-8090's exterior is weathered and run-down, appearing as an abandoned fortress church overrun with overgrowth and showing signs of an advanced state of disrepair. This persists into the courtyard, with the only exception being an antechamber at the back of the facility, which gives way to an opening into the main complex of the anomaly. Inside, SCP-8090 opens into a palatial foyer (See Fig 1.1) consisting of three layers leading into an elaborate series of rooms, chambers, and hallways. Most of the aforementioned spaces are decorated with vast displays of artwork and artifacts lining the walls and ceilings depicting the mythical icons of GOI-850, as well as a significant amount of anomalous history.An extensive amount of the past that has ties to or can be explained through the anomalous, much of which has been either lost or intentionally forgotten.. This area demonstrates non-Euclidean geometry as its interior dimensions exceed far beyond those of its exterior, pending proper measurement. Some subjects of interest within SCP-8090's complex are a collection of three chambers, labeled SCP-8090-A, SCP-8090-B, and SCP-8090-C, which refer to a labyrinth, a tower seven hundred meters in height, and an artificial outside field, respectively. [See Addendum 8090.2 for more information] SCP-3580: Female humanoid entity capable of minor yet rapid acts of thaumaturgy as well as excessive violence. Missing both its arms, it utilizes prosthetics. During its securement, a total of one hundred and twenty members of GOI-850 were present within SCP-8090, each of which has been arrested and contained. Among them, GOI-850's leader POI-8090-1 was detained, as well as the previously uncontained SCP-3580. [See Addendum 8090.1 for more information] SCP-8090-Ω lies at the center of SCP-8090. Analysis of the specimen is to be performed with the utmost care in discerning its authenticity. [See Addendum 8090.5 for more information] Addenda: 8090.1/GOI-850 Background GOI-850: Order of the Archine Eclipse Presented by Senior Researcher Adelaine Pepper Initially discovered in the late 17th century, GOI-850 has proven itself as a small, concentrated, and powerful group composed of both humans and humanoids. Utilizing their anomalous capabilities, they have engaged in multiple and repeated acts of theft, murder, and terrorism across an international scope. GOI-850 acts as an international clandestine organization operating with very few members. Despite this, however, it is capable of orchestrating conspiracies in its search for artifacts related to its sacred figure. It stores these relics within SCP-8090, creating new displays for each recovered item. From what has been gathered, it is believed that GOI-850 worships a mythical figure known as Archine - one of the very first human beings, as well as a valiant hero and brilliant tactician - and has gone to great effort to advance the capabilities of its followers - like the iconic figure - to an unknown end. At present, eighteen confirmed instances of these enhanced humanoids - referred to as "knights" by the Order - are contained. Each of these entities shows extraordinary physical capabilities and or thaumaturgic prowess, making them extraordinarily dangerous, as well as useful for the group. The leader of this group is among these augmented humanoids. Referred to as the "Apex Monarch" (POI-8090-1), it is believed to be the oldest living member of GOI-850, acting as both its commander and religious head. Notably, SCP-8090 was originally located in Europe and acted as GOI-850's sole facility. This was changed following the Foundation failing in its first attempt at containing it, after which GOI-850 managed to thaumaturgically transport the entirety of SCP-8090 to its present location in New Zealand. 17:09: The humanoids shout at the agents in English and French. Backing up, the operatives ready their rifles at the entities. GOI-850/1: Begone! All of you! Leave this sacred place! GOI-850/2: [Take up arms, brother! Fight!] 17:09: GOI-850/2 charges forward, sword raised. Cpt. DeMarcus: Fire! 17:10: Agents open fire on GOI-850/2 while others aim at GOI-850/1. While they are both visibly affected by this, GOI-850/2 continues, with GOI-850/1 joining it after. GOI-850/2 swings at a cluster of agents, but is immediately intercepted by Michaels. He points the shotgun upward and shoots at the humanoid's head. Racking the shotgun, he repeats the process until he runs out of ammo. The entity's head is shredded, terminating it and sending it to the floor. GOI-850/1: No, no! No! Cpt. DeMarcus: Hold! 17:10: GOI-850/1 puts its sword in front of it while backing away. Michaels turns to face it. The agents stop shooting. GOI-850/1: How, how dare you!? Cpt. Michaels: Fan out! Secure the area! 17:11: DeMarcus reaches for his communicator, commanding half of SIGMA-4's forces to move in and hold the lobby. Michaels and two operatives arrest GOI-850/1 while the rest spread out through the chamber. 17:13: Eight agents from SIGMA-4 arrive and take up positions around the chamber. Michaels, Vega, and DeMarcus join with their teams and move deeper into the facility down four separate halls. Two agents from Beta-777 accompany Roufhous as they walk up the stairs and into the central hallway. GOI-850/1 stares at GOI-850/2's corpse. Timeline.Truncated list of relevant events since GOI-850's discovery. 1793: Several reports are put out across the United States of America detailing unprovoked attacks by a giant humanoid creature. These accounts were spread out over several months and separate locations, however, they were consistent in their descriptions of the figure and its accomplice..Larger than a single-story house, dressed in dark black armor, glowing green eyes, and with a "witch child" in tow. 1794: Records of this same entity begin appearing across the ocean in France. The string of these accounts shows the humanoid having landed at Nouvelle-Aquitaine as it made its way westward towards Grand Est before leaving the country. 1808: After following the trail of the entity's attacks to its home base, Foundation forces launch an assault on LOI-850 ("Yhiloyehyra"). GOI-850's leadership is severely crippled but manages to escape. LOI-850 disappears along with them. Because of the numerous potential threats observed during this operation in conjunction with the location's relocation, Project Labyrinth was conceived to track down and contain GOI-850. 1968-1970: The Federal Bureau of Investigation begins a two-year-long series of inquiries into international shipping agent Kevin Gibson under suspicions of communist affiliations. During a raid on a freighter operated by Gibson, containers were found carrying an unknown number of missing persons. During this operation, Gibson had been captured and the cargo ship was seized. This was until one GOI-850 member was found on the ship, which then proceeded to terminate all but three federal officers on board, leading to Gibson escaping with the ship's cargo. The officers' testimonies proved vital to linking Gibson to GOI-850, and Gibson was subsequently designated as POI-9112. SCP-3580-A: Humanoid knight entity, four meters in height equipped with a Gatling gun on its left arm. Presently terminated. 1971: SCP-3580 attacks Site-41, killing fourteen personnel, obtaining confidential Foundation information, and terminating the Site's Director Malkin Fallen. The Foundation locates POI-9112 and attempts to capture him. This endeavor failed, as a member of GOI-850, later designated SCP-3580-A, intervened, killing all but Agent Mortimer Woodlock out of the Mobile Task Force agents responsible for the operation as well as POI-9112. 1978: SCP-3580 attacks Site-102, executing twelve personnel in the process, and discovers the location of Area-55 - the main base of Project Labyrinth. Later, the same entity intercepts an armored van escort delivering one POI-1492, killing four Foundation personnel and escaping with POI-1492. 1979: SCP-3580, joined later by SCP-3580-A, attacks Area-55, killing five personnel and stealing half of a parchment detailing the thaumaturgic incantation previously used to teleport SCP-8090. One week later, SCP-3580 and SCP-3580-A utilized that incantation to transport the Bagger 288 excavator from Germany to Turkey. Four teams of Mobile Task Force operatives from Nu-7 were deployed and engaged the two entities. The event ended with SCP-3580-A being terminated, an as-of-yet unknown cost in damages to Foundation equipment, the Bagger 288 being severely damaged, SCP-3580 escaping, rising tensions between Germany and Turkey, and a total of sixteen agents killed in action. Four days after this event, an email was sent to all Project Labyrinth personnel from a terminal in New Zealand. After 26 hours of organizing, Nu-7 was deployed and led a campaign to contain LOI-850 - later redesignated as SCP-8090. Addenda: 8090.2/Layout Lobby: The central foyer measures eighteen meters in width, thirty-one meters in length, and twenty-eight meters in height. Above, there is a split mural, depicting GOI-850's icon Archine defeating Alnilam, a large raven-like creature multiple times her size. The other then shows her imprisoning it in a cage. In both, Archine stands proud, holding a blazing sword overhead atop a shameful Alnilam. The lobby then connects to nine separate passageways connecting to SCP-8090-A, SCP-8090-B, SCP-8090-C, a lush garden, five chambers for training activities, a vast weapons arsenal, six stores of anomalous artifacts, as well as personal accommodations for most of GOI-850's members. SCP-8090-B: Located at the westernmost end of the second floor, entering through this hallway leads into a massive corridor, each end connected by a series of catwalks situated 1.4 kilometers above the ground. At the bottom, there is a mound of corpses comprised exclusively of failed GOI-850 knight entities (SCP-8090-A1). At the other end of this chamber, the bridge expands to accommodate a spiraling staircase spire extending 700 meters into the air. Alcoves are situated all along the walls, acting as stores for a consistently similar series of artifacts, as well as a collection of displays detailing a species of four armed humanoid entities engaging in acts of warfare utilizing advanced thaumaturgy. At the top of the tower is a miniature garden with a constantly flowing fountain in its center. At the base of this structure is a string of text, glowing with a bright yellow light, that appears to visually automatically translate into the reader's primary language. The text reads: A gift to serve But not tragic I cannot thank you 17:15: Entering the hallway, operatives overhear a loud, echoing sound from within the chamber. They move in, overlooking the space heavily inhabited by GOI-850 members, far more than seventy in total. They all cheer and shout at the show beneath them, where dozens of monstrous creatures brutally fight amongst one another. 17:17: Captain Michaels commands his team to stay back, where they remain unnoticed by the crowd. Michaels converses with his men on how best to control the situation. Michaels asks for reinforcements from SIGMA-4, leaving four men to hold the entrance. 17:18: Michaels receives a notice from Captain Vega's radio, informing him of the facility possessing non-Euclidean geometry. The agents arrive just as he receives this information. Cpt. Michaels: Non-Euclidean geometry. Know what that means, lads? Means we may very well be in trouble. I had a buddy some while ago. Walked into one of those kinds of anomalies. He never came back out. We might not come back out. 17:18: He sighs, moving a hand up to his forehead, pushing the hair out of his face. He racks the shotgun. Cpt. Michaels: So now, I guess it's all or nothing. Let's make this count, eh? 17:19: Michaels charts out a plan of attack, instructing each agent's movements and targets. Once everyone is ready, he leads the charge. The men break up and cover as much distance as possible as the agents' presence is noticed. 17:15: The two Beta-777 agents follow shortly behind Director Roufhous into the corridor as they take a sharp turn into the second room on the right. Their microphones pick up the sounds of a brief scuffle, accompanied by the crunch of metal. Shouting is heard inside, and they turn the corner to see Roufhous facing SCP-3580, one of its prosthetic arms ruined on the ground beside a deceased GOI-850 member. SCP-3580: You bastard! 17:16: It charges at Roufhous, its last arm stretched behind it. They swipe with their cane, slicing through the arm at its base before they slam into SCP-3580 with their shoulder, knocking it to the ground. With its back against the wall, they hold the cane to its neck and arch down. Dir. Roufhous: No. More. Witchcraft. 17:16: They look towards the Beta-777 agents before standing and stepping away. The agents walk over and secure SCP-3580 while Roufhous exits the room and continues down the hall. SCP-3580: Venator! SCP-8090-C: Located on the easternmost end of the facility, the corridor ends at a threshold of fifteen meters, whereupon subjects will begin to experience visual and auditory hallucinations for a period of twenty-five minutes. The vision opens to view a flat, cracked plain at night. The sky is heavily clouded, and distant shouting can be heard. To the north, hundreds of large chunks of rock can be seen floating in the sky, smoke rising from many of them. Upon closer examination, fortresses can be observed inside and above these parts, which crumble, and slowly rotate around a central vertical palace. Explosions, thunder, and a distant roaring can be heard as well. In the clouds, there are occasional flashes of dark red and orange light, and a silhouette of a massive winged creature can be seen. After eighteen minutes, the city begins to fall and soon after collides with the ground. The beast makes one final dive overhead from the subject, briefly coming into view and revealing a black hide before drifting back above the clouds. Sometime later, an army is seen moving out from the ruins of the city bearing banners like the ones observed in SCP-8090-B. Suddenly, the ground erupts. Crackling can be heard all around, capable of causing temporary hearing damage in subjects, as mounds begin to form on the Earth. Hume levels visibly begin to rise lie heat distortion as those mounds escalate and grow into mountains and reach further and further into the sky, each of them situated around the army. Glowing blue light emerges from the group as the mountains become kilometers tall, and begin to arch towards one another. At twenty-four minutes, the mountains fall into one another, converging upon the group. A violent shockwave is felt, and the vision ends as the crashing mountains obscure the legion. The room then returns to baseline - a small chamber with only a podium and its item as its features. Atop the stand is a spear, well out of human proportion and inscribed with the following: Be proud, not mourning. His price paid, our battle won. Be free but warned. Should you challenge my progeny, you will not be spared. Addenda: 8090.3/Interviews Following the securement of SCP-8090, a team of Project Labyrinth personnel was selected and flown out to the location, where two armed outposts had been constructed. Given the severity of the humanoid anomalies being contained, it was decided that one facility would be dedicated to holding the captured members of GOI-850 and the other for housing faculty. Three days after their arrival, interrogations began with the POIs to learn more about the group, its functions, the missing persons, and SCP-8090 itself. Senior Researcher Adelaine Pepper has been chosen to perform the majority of these interviews. Internal log - Interview: POI-8090-1/003 POI-8090-1 is seated in its cell. Its hands are cuffed to the table; anti-thaumic wards are etched into the specially designed thick chains. It hums to itself, occasionally singing in an unknown language. It scratches into the table with its abnormally sharp fingernails, etching nullified symbols into its surface. Senior Researcher Pepper opens the door and pulls up a seat at the other end of the table, facing it. Pepper: POI-8090-1. Do you understand why you are here? It does not respond. Pepper: POI-8090-1. I know you understand me. Do you understand why you are here? It does not respond. It hums louder. Pepper: If you continue to ignore my requests, then I cannot guarantee the fair treatment of your followers. It stops humming. POI-8090-1: I thought you were all impartial. Then what can you guarantee, child? Pepper: Do not refer to me in that way again, POI-8090-1. I am prepared to allow certain amenities for the Order's followers, first and foremostly a modicum of freedom in their containment, including some access to Archine's texts. POI-8090-1: But what can you offer me? Pepper: Should you prove to be of lesser value, any special attention we are affording to you currently can be placed onto another from your group, and you would then be left alone in your dimly lit containment cell. POI-8090-1: That would not matter for long. Pepper: Why is that? Silence. Pepper: POI-8090-1, if you will not elaborate then I see no further point in continuing this. POI-8090-1: You know what lies beyond the maze. You've seen it. You've been there. Generations of work cut off now. Centuries of lifetimes cut short. What did you think of it? She leans in closer. Pepper: Tell me what we saw in there. Its hands come to a stop. It looks up at Pepper. POI-8090-1: God. You saw a god, my child. And it is in pain. Pepper: What does that mean? POI-8090-1: Put it all together. Then you can tell me. Following this interview, POI-8090-1 refused to provide any actionable information for twenty-five hours. Attempts at interviewing other high-ranking GOI-850 members yielded almost exclusively unhelpful results, save for one interaction with SCP-3580, logged below. Internal log - Interview: SCP-3580/001 Opening the door, Pepper walks in to find SCP-3580 lying on its bed facing the wall missing both of its prosthetic limbs. Pepper: SCP-3580. Do you understand why you are here? SCP-3580: Piss off. Pepper: Please answer the question. SCP-3580: I refuse. Go ahead and kill me already. Pepper: I'm afraid that is not an option. Silence. Pepper: What kind of mission would require transporting the largest machine in the world to another country? Silence. Pepper: I'm sure there could have been other ways to go about that process. Other quieter options that wouldn't have led to so many deaths. Silence. Pepper: Nor the death of your associate. Silence. Pepper: We know neither of you two planned out the event. You were just the operators behind it. What did this "Apex Monarch" say was the point of it all? What could be the purpose of such a stunt? Silence. SCP-3580: I said piss off. Pepper: Not without an answer, SCP-3580, now answer the question. SCP-3580 struggles in its bed, thrashing around wildly until it faces Pepper. SCP-3580: He told me it would be easy. He said it wasn't buried that deep underground. He assured me that we could handle it. Then four planes descended down onto us, and you criminals all came out with your guns in droves! It didn't matter how many of you I struck down when two more men would take the first's place! We should have been able to handle it, but then more and more and more came, and we were drowned in the blood of the lives you people threw away that day! SCP-3580: My fa- It cuts itself off. SCP-3580: Everything was lost. Lost because of you. Pepper: But what was the point of the excavator? It breathes heavily, staring at Pepper for a moment. It slumps back. SCP-3580: You don't even care, do you? Pepper: That is not up for discussion. Please, what was the point of the excavator? Taking several seconds, its breath slowly returns to it. SCP-3580: It was his plan. Pepper: Hmm. And what was it that you took from that dig site? SCP-3580: How should I know? Pepper: How could you not remember? SCP-3580 growls as it sits up on its bed, meeting Pepper at eye level. SCP-3580: I was shot at. Repeatedly. What was the worst pain you've ever endured, princess? Pepper: That is not up for discussion. SCP-3580: Then we're not discussing anything. It slumps back down on its bed. SCP-3580: Get out. Afterward: SCP-3580 was then given eight hours before another interview was conducted. 17:15: SIGMA-4 agents situated in the lobby watch as a flood of humanoids emerges from the four chambers at the top of the facility, all streaming out with weapons. Backing up, the operatives call for reinforcements as they attempt to control the hostiles. A stray shot hitting one agent in his body armor sends the scene into chaos. 17:16: The remainder of outside SIGMA-4's team move in. 17:17: One Beta-777 walks back out into the hallway and chases after Roufhous while the other secures SCP-3580. 17:17: Entering into an antechamber, the agent watches as the room shifts. Six hallways all around begin to close as one opens in front of the Director. He tries to keep up with them as they enter through it into a new passageway. 17:18: The agent looks at both of the walls, covered in unidentified red runes, that echo with sounds of thrashing and raspful screeching on the other ends. The hall is dimly lit, and a bright light shines at the end of it. Multiple times during this, the operative groans and the camera shakes. There is an ambient heartbeat sound that grows louder as the two close in towards the end. Fig 1.2 Attached file. 17:19: They both stop after stepping into another antechamber with a stationary thaumic barrier at the farside wall. Two sets of bookshelves are placed on either end of the room, where a humanoid can be seen quickly rummaging through the covers, not yet having noticed the presence of the personnel. 17:19: Roufhous walks up to the barrier and retrieves a parchment from their coat. The entity notices and watches as they bury the paper into the inferno. GOI-850/3:.Later redesignated POI-8090-1. Venator. 17:19: It stops what it is doing and picks up its staff. It slowly steps over, towering over the operatives. GOI-850/3: Your consortium of ilk again trample upon this sacred place. 17:19: The entity's staff begins to radiate with a dark gold light. GOI-850/3: I have stood for centuries as Archine's very will. 17:19: It grips its staff with both hands. GOI-850/3: This idiocy will be tolerated no longer! Dir. Roufhous: You won't get away. None of you will. 17:19: They pull their hand out, revealing a charred carcass. They turn and head back out into the passageway. Internal log - Interview: SCP-3580/003 SCP-3580 remains depressed on the bed. Pepper steps into the room, accompanied by Senior Researcher Krow, who takes a seat beside SCP-3580. Krow: Hello, Ms. Ramexe. Pepper: SCP-3580, do you understand why you are here? SCP-3580: The same reason why you should be in here with me. Pepper: I need you to comply with my simple requests. SCP-3580: I don't care, princess. I really don't. I don't know what I took from there, I don't know what he did with it. I really can't help you, even if I wanted to, now just leave me be. Krow: That is all fine, Proxima, really. That isn't why we are here. He pulls a collection of photos out from his pocket - including one depicting the thaumic gateway located within SCP-8090-A - and shows them off. Krow: Could I ask if you recognize any of this? Turning in its bed to face him, SCP-3580 sighs. SCP-3580: Yes. Yes, I do. Addenda: 8090.4/GOI-850 Religion Analysis of items found within SCP-8090 has begun, revealing a number of discoveries pertaining to subjects of interest in history, anomalous or otherwise. With these items, along with brief descriptions added to some of the displays associated with them, as well as information acquired through further interviews with SCP-3580 and other GOI-850 members, a preliminary report has been constructed outlining the beliefs of GOI-850, detailed below. GOI-850: Archine's Eclipse Presented by Senior Researcher Adelaine Pepper Divinity is fallible. Divinity is not above humanity. Divinity too may die. These are the core beliefs of GOI-850. That humanity is separate from the divine, and should not be made to serve them. As put forth by Archine herself when she brought down the demigod Alnilam. The group's icon is a legendary testament, proof of the potential within every person for greatness. To follow in her footsteps, though grueling, is to walk the path of striving for improvement and perfection. But to fight for her cause is to enter a war against the order of reality; eclipsing the original to bring forth a new one in mankind's favor. GOI-850's most revered tale details Archine conquering a beast, described much like a European dragon, named Yharlashaye, in order to gain favor with the goddess of magic. Needing a weapon capable of killing the monster, she ventured into the domain of the Archdaemon Carnis and battled her way through escalating challenges, eventually to face off against a semi-humanoid entity coated in impenetrable bone armor. Archine outmaneuvered the beast in swordplay and fashioned an unbreakable blade from the carcass. Then, joined by her brothers and sisters, Archine led them into battle against Yharlashaye on a mountain. Fighting for hours, the beast had cut them down to their final three. It then took to the sky, preparing to rain fire down upon the remaining mortals. Running up to the tallest hill, Archine lept into the sky after it, and the two clashed in the sky. Stabbing her blade into Yharlashaye's neck, Archine disarmed its most devastating weapon and rode it back down to the ground where her comrades then began restraining the animal with chains. Removing the edge from the creature's neck, the creature's fell blood had caused it to burn bright as Archine enchanted it. Presenting the beast as a gift, the goddess rewarded Archine amidst the climactic first Storm, where she would serve as one of three generals for the city of Hyphera. According to GOI-850, humanity has always had to take from the world to change it; this act was no exception. I am inclined to agree. Object Description: 240 cm long claymore comprised of a dense ivory and metallic material, blue/red in coloration, with glowing yellow thuamic symbols etched along its fuller. When biological matter comes into contact with the sword, the edges will begin to harmlessly ignite. Subjects besides human beings are incapable of holding the weapon. Associated Passage: "Soulless now as it is, it is useless compared to its elden glory. I am so sorry, my sister. I will carry your flame with me always." Object Description: A series of chains, composed of the same blue/red substance, each eighty-two millimeters thick. The length extends to four hundred meters. Associated Passage: Wrought from the sky, Yharlashaye was imprisoned Made to serve My will, his obedience was rewarded Now, I hope your new shackles fit you well On 23/3/1979, after exploring the top floor of the facility as well as examining the detained participants found within SCP-8090-A upon its securement, a sizeable number of persons originally reported missing due to the actions of POI-9112 were found, most unharmed, many having converted to GOI-850's religion. Interviews with these people are ongoing, headed mainly by Senior Researcher Krow. Current plans are to amnesticize and release them once it has been concluded that they are safe for reintegration into their respective societies. However, a large number of the missing persons remain so thus far. Analysis of the contents of SCP-8090-B's chasm has begun. 17:21: GOI-850/3 emerges from the six-way antechamber and passes through the hallway, looking inside the second chamber on its left. It slams its hand into the doorframe, cracking the stone, and it rushes out towards the lobby. 17:22: Running down the staircase, it steps into the center of the chamber and looks around. 17:22: Agents all stationed around the lobby aim at GOI-850/3. It stares in disbelief. It quickly turns in circles, reeling as it finds every humanoid previously noted all arrested and on the ground. 17:23: Director Roufhous steps out at the top of the stairs. GOI-850/3 turns its gaze to them. GOI-850/3: Idiots. Idiots! What have you fools done?! 17:24: Operatives in the lobby all get a notification from DeMarcus' communicator, notifying them that his team has secured their chamber. GOI-850/3 overhears this. GOI-850/3: No, no. 17:25: Operatives get a notification from Vega's communicator, confirming the securement of their hallway after having terminated four hostiles within. 17:26: Captain Michaels walks out from the secondary passageway, looking around at all the entities on the ground, before walking over to the balcony and shouting at the other operatives. Cpt. Michaels: Lads! Need five more over here. Come on! GOI-850/3: No, no. No! 17:26: It shouts in an unknown language as runes start to glow within the chamber, darkening it with a golden hue. Gripping its staff in both hands, GOI-850/3 points it towards Captain Michaels, and a bolt of golden light emanates from it, zipping through the air and striking Michaels in the chest. 17:26: GOI-850/3 begins attacking the closest agents to it, killing two immediately and proceeding to the next. Michaels is sent backward, crashing into a wall with a large hole in his torso. 17:27: Roufhous walks down the steps. They reach the bottom as GOI-850/3 focuses on them. 17:27: A sphere of light manifests around it, which absorbs the incoming rounds all around as it brings its staff above its head. Instantly, it moves forward several meters and swings its staff down at Roufhous, cleaving through their shoulder down to their hip. 17:27: A sound reverberates through their electronic mask as they crumple to the ground. GOI-850/3: I am Archine's will! Your shepherd! If you choose to remain misguided, then you will all burn in the ashes mankind will leave for you- 17:28: Roufhous appears behind GOI-850/3 and impales it with their cane, which quickly appears to visibly change, leaving a Zweihander sword in its place.This is attributable to Director Roufhous' illusion anomaly capability.. 17:28: It falls to its knees as agents move to secure it properly. Roufhous leaves and walks back up the stairs, finding Agent Woodlock examining Michaels' body. Woodlock looks up at them. Agt. Woodlock: He's, he's dead, sir. Dir. Roufhous: Welcome back to the fold then, Captain. Efforts are ongoing to explore every chamber within LOI-850 (Tentatively being designated SCP-8090) and secure every onsite member of GOI-850, as well as to locate the missing persons related to POI-9112. Addenda: 8090.5/Alpha Omega SCP-8090-A: Corridor leads into an enlarged antechamber, nine meters in height, with a series of six hallways of equidistant placements, two of which connect to a higher floor while another two descend to a lower level. Entering any of these passages beyond a five-meter threshold will result in the subject becoming universally unrecoverable. SCP-8090-A is a labyrinth of unknown scale that will automatically change its interior design - the placement of its hallways, walls, stairways, and exits - to such a degree that escape becomes practically impossible. Inside SCP-8090-A, SCP-8090-Ω was discovered. On 25/3/1979, Captain Woodlock led a team of operatives from both Nu-7 and Beta-777 into SCP-8090-A. The log of this event has been included below. Operation Transcript 16:00: Six operatives enter the lobby, joined by Woodlock and Roufhous. Multiple sections of the chamber have been closed off, including the passages to SCP-8090-C. Guards are stationed all around the room carrying assault rifles. A team of junior researchers, as well as Senior Researcher Krow, are standing around a foldable table, discussing their findings. 16:00: Senior Researcher Krow notices the group and leaves the table, coming over to meet with Woodlock. Sr. Krow: Director. Captain. Cpt. Woodlock: Doctor. Sr. Krow: Do you think this will be enough? Cpt. Woodlock: It'll be plenty, sir. Sr. Krow: Hm. If you say so. One, two - Eight in all. 16:02: Walking back to the table, he picks up a series of small items. He spins around and tosses one at Woodlock. He catches and examines it. It is a small ball, inscribed with four carvings. Cpt. Woodlock: Thaumic? Sr. Krow: Pocket-sized wards. Little glimpses of magic for the uninitiated. We picked up a trick or two from the Order and added a dash of our own wizardry. Break one, and it should instantly transport you back here. Krow points at a collection of dust circles in the center of the room. Cpt. Woodlock: Should? Sr. Krow: It's still rather prototypical. But, it should act as a last resort. With any luck, you'll be fine either way. 16:03: He hands one out to each member of the team, then faces Woodlock again. Sr. Krow: Let me see yours. 16:04: Holding his hand out with the ball in it, Krow takes Woodlock's wrist. Cpt. Woodlock: Uh, doc- 16:04: Pulling out a knife, Krow slices into Woodlock's thumb. Woodlock pulls away, closing his hand and clutching it. The other agents ready their rifles. Cpt. Woodlock: Ah, what the… eh… heck!? Sr. Krow: Don't be a baby. Have to get a bit of blood on them to work. Now it's bound to you, and vice versa. You all should all have your own knives, right? 16:05: Looking down at his hand, the ball has begun to glow a faint white light. The other operatives begin the process of activating their wards, except for Roufhous, who immediately stomps it under their boot before continuing towards the staircase. Sr. Krow: Uncalled for. 16:06: Reaching into his pocket, he removes another sphere and hands it to Woodlock. Sr. Krow: Luckily, I was expecting a proper team. Now quit loitering already. Cpt. Woodlock: Fine. Thanks for the concern. Let's go. 16:06: The team follows Woodlock as he passes Krow and the staircase, entering the hallway preceding SCP-8090-A. They enter the antechamber where the way ahead remains open. They continue. 16:10: At the end of the passageway, the team arrives at the previously sighted thaumic barrier. Agents from Beta-777 move up to deal with it. They draw inscriptions into the air, glowing dull white. 16:14: The glyphs accumulate in the air, all of them placed in articulate positioning around the lock of the barrier. Sparks released from the barrier decrease as the seventh rune is drawn. 16:19: Agents complete the sixteenth symbol and place it on the lock. The barrier briefly shines brighter before blinding the camera in white light. As visuals return, the barrier crumbles apart. The sound of falling sand is heard. 16:20: Operatives file out inside, looking around at a large, window-domed interior, where the sky can be seen with radiant stars. A large globe is placed in the center of the room, dotted with various markings written in an unknown language, with inaccurate representations of the continents, of which there are eight. There is a grand table situated before the globe, stacked high with papers, many of which are written in English or other known languages. Lining the walls is a collection of dead plant life. Banners hang from rails on the ceiling, tattered and ruined. 16:21: Past the globe, there is a staircase leading to a platform at the back of the chamber. In the center, placed all the way at the back, there is an enlarged, polished bedframe, its contents having been severely withered. Lying atop the decaying mound, however, a skeletal frame is visible, draped in thick armor and bearing a crown with four horns. 16:22: Approaching the anomaly, Agent Duke calls over to Captain Woodlock, and he comes running, followed by the rest of the unit. They all stare at the corpse that is SCP-8090-Ω. 16:23: Silence. 16:25: Agents look to the left of the bedframe, where a descending set of steps obscures a glowing structure down below. Flames rise up from the depth. 16:26: Operatives look closer, observing a swirling maelstrom of light between two large white structures set alight, generating a noise of crackling lightning intermixed with the low gusting of wind, comparable to a quiet wail. Agt. Cowrite: What on Earth is that? Cpt. Woodlock: Call it in. We found the target. FILE 2/3 ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8090" by Roufhous, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8090. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Background3 Name: File:The Skies of Fire.jpg Author: Gorgosek License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_Skies_of_Fire.jpg Filename: Barrier Name: File:2017-04-30 22-17-34 lp-ac-ouv-haut-bois.jpg Author: Thomas Bresson License: Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:2017-04-30_22-17-34_lp-ac-ouv-haut-bois.jpg Filename: Draggy Name: File:Dragon and sword.svg Author: Frédéric MICHEL License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International, 3.0 Unported, 2.5 Generic, 2.0 Generic and 1.0 Generic Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Dragon_and_sword.svg Filename: Roof Name: File:Mars - Cryptic Region Type B.jpg Author: Mariagat Włodek Głażewski License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mars_-_Cryptic_Region_Type_B.jpg Filename: Meat Name: File:Tulipa pestle surface - SEM, colorized.tiff Author: TiberiusRufus License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Tulipa_pestle_surface_-_SEM,_colorized.tiff Filename: Background2 Name: File:NASA’s Webb Reveals Cosmic Cliffs, Glittering Landscape of Star Birth - Flickr - James Webb Space Telescope (1).png Author: NASA's James Webb Space Telescope from Greenbelt, MD, USA License: Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:NASA%E2%80%99s_Webb_Reveals_Cosmic_Cliffs,_Glittering_Landscape_of_Star_Birth_-_Flickr_-_James_Webb_Space_Telescope_(1).png Filename: Lobby Name: File:Neues Rathaus Hannover, Innenansicht.jpg Author: Raycer License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Neues_Rathaus_Hannover,_Innenansicht.jpg Filename: Kharos Name: File:Fireworks (2641772676).jpg Author: Jodie Wilson from Mountain View, USA License: Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Fireworks_(2641772676).jpg Filename: Incident Name: File:Red fireworks in night sky, Victory Day, Rostov-on-Don, Russia.jpg Author: Vyacheslav Argenberg License: Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Red_fireworks_in_night_sky,_Victory_Day,_Rostov-on-Don,_Russia.jpg |
SCP-8090 | pending | A forgotten, bloodied past tears it's way back into the present as a beast conceived from the decaying flesh of a dying god resurfaces from the depths. SCP-8090 - PROFANITY / PROVIDENCE / PURGATORY Wordcount (P1): 6,600 Reading time (P1): 24 minutes, roughly Total: 37,000 words, 2 hours and 15 minutes roughly ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} by Roufhous ACT I: PROFANITY Multiplex class anomaly The following SCP designation relates to two separate, distinct anomalous items, and have been filed under the same document for purposes of relativity alongside contextual significance. As such, the general item number of this file collectively regards both subjects. Roman numerals have been employed as a suffix to discern either subject. FILE 1/3 Operation Transcript Foreward: With newly acquired information, several units of Mobile Task Force operatives were deployed to secure LOI-850. 16:46: Four SIGMA units begin their descent, all carrying squadrons of MTF agents from Nu-7 ("Hammer Down") and Beta-777 ("Hecate's Spear"). The sound of weapons being readied is heard as Captain Michaels discusses the target with his team aboard SIGMA-1. 16:47: The units break through the clouds. Inside, Director Roufhous emerges from the back of SIGMA-1 and enters the cockpit. They stare at the target down below as it comes into view while applying their mask. 16:49: Captain Michaels racks a shotgun and the group goes silent. Cpt. Michaels: Men, it brings me no joy to say that some of you will not be walking out of this operation alive. It's a dirty job, but somebody has to do it. We have to do it. Cpt. Michaels: Now, those savages forfeited their humanity long ago. Do not be afraid. Do not treat them like people; they will not show you that same cordiality. We do this fast and clean. Cpt. Michaels: Remember why we do this, lads. For a better tomorrow! Nu-7: Yes sir! 16:52: SIGMA-1 reaches an altitude of 140 meters and dropping. Roufhous steps out from the cockpit and passes by the MTF as the side door opens. The agents protest but are reassured by Captain Michaels as the director leaps out from the helicopter. 17:04: SIGMA-1, -2. and -3 land at the base of LOI-850. Agents file out from each vehicle, amounting to twenty-two operatives in total, while SIGMA-4 sets itself up nearby as reserves. Captains Michaels, DeMarcus, and Vega lead the agents up the mountain. 17:06: Entering the target's perimeter, operatives fill out into a courtyard and identify four seemingly unarmed members of GOI-850. Agents close in, rifles raised, and move to secure the humanoid entities. 17:07: The largest humanoid among the four raises its fists in front of its face as it charges at the operatives. After five seconds of sustained fire, the entity's body slumps before the group. The rest all shout as they watch this unfold and are safely secured by the agents. 17:08: Captains Vega and Michaels enter a small room at the back of the compound, where they find Roufhous standing in front of a red and blue metal doorframe etched with various thaumic runes. 17:08: Captain Vega steps forward, along with several members from Beta-777. They begin work on disenchanting the gateway. Michaels moves up with his shotgun and aims it at the seam of the doorway. Faint white lights shine as the operatives work. Soon after, a spark ignites and floats to the ground. Vega nods. Vega: Good to go. 17:10: Michaels blasts the way open. The agents file into a brief hallway and enter a grand lobby with two additional floors above them, where multiple humanoid entities can be seen fleeing deeper into the facility. 170:10: Captains Michaels and DeMarcus start moving out to deal with them but are stopped as two large humanoids land in their way, swords in hand. Item#: 8090(I) Level4 Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: ekhi Risk Class: danger link to memo Fig 1.1 Main lobby. Assigned Site Outpost-8090-1, Outpost-8090-2 Site Director Dir. Pendant Roufhous Research Head SR. Adelaine Pepper, Helius Krow Assigned MTF Nu-7 ("Hammer Down") Assigned Site Outpost-8090-1, Outpost-8090-2 Site Director Dir. Pendant Roufhous Research Head SR. Adelaine Pepper, Helius Krow Assigned MTF Nu-7 ("Hammer Down") Special Containment Procedures: Containment plans are, as of yet, still in development. Current drafts will be reviewed and revised once SCP-8090 and all subsequent parts of its anomaly have been fully recorded and analyzed. SCP-3580 is to be held in a Class-8 Hazardous Humanoid Containment Chamber unit outfitted with thaumaturgy-inhibiting thaumic wards.Localized thaumaturgic incantations created for certain key purposes such as protecting, concealing, or revealing the subject of the ritual.. Allowing it access to its original prosthetic arms is strictly prohibited; those are to be held in an anomalous item locker inside Outpost-8090-2. All captured members of GOI-850 are to be held in customly modified Class-7, 8, or 9 Hazardous Humanoid Containment Chamber units, depending on the subject. Interviews are ongoing, namely with POI-8090-1. All contained humanoids are to be held within Outpost-8090-2. Aside from exploration attempts, personnel are prohibited from entering SCP-8090-A. Guards are to be stationed there and around SCP-8090. SCP-8090-Ω is not to be disturbed. Description: SCP-8090 is a facility located within the Southern Alps mountain range of New Zealand, belonging to GOI-850 ("Order of the Archine Eclipse"), acting as the group's main base of operations. SCP-8090's exterior is weathered and run-down, appearing as an abandoned fortress church overrun with overgrowth and showing signs of an advanced state of disrepair. This persists into the courtyard, with the only exception being an antechamber at the back of the facility, which gives way to an opening into the main complex of the anomaly. Inside, SCP-8090 opens into a palatial foyer (See Fig 1.1) consisting of three layers leading into an elaborate series of rooms, chambers, and hallways. Most of the aforementioned spaces are decorated with vast displays of artwork and artifacts lining the walls and ceilings depicting the mythical icons of GOI-850, as well as a significant amount of anomalous history.An extensive amount of the past that has ties to or can be explained through the anomalous, much of which has been either lost or intentionally forgotten.. This area demonstrates non-Euclidean geometry as its interior dimensions exceed far beyond those of its exterior, pending proper measurement. Some subjects of interest within SCP-8090's complex are a collection of three chambers, labeled SCP-8090-A, SCP-8090-B, and SCP-8090-C, which refer to a labyrinth, a tower seven hundred meters in height, and an artificial outside field, respectively. [See Addendum 8090.2 for more information] SCP-3580: Female humanoid entity capable of minor yet rapid acts of thaumaturgy as well as excessive violence. Missing both its arms, it utilizes prosthetics. During its securement, a total of one hundred and twenty members of GOI-850 were present within SCP-8090, each of which has been arrested and contained. Among them, GOI-850's leader POI-8090-1 was detained, as well as the previously uncontained SCP-3580. [See Addendum 8090.1 for more information] SCP-8090-Ω lies at the center of SCP-8090. Analysis of the specimen is to be performed with the utmost care in discerning its authenticity. [See Addendum 8090.5 for more information] Addenda: 8090.1/GOI-850 Background GOI-850: Order of the Archine Eclipse Presented by Senior Researcher Adelaine Pepper Initially discovered in the late 17th century, GOI-850 has proven itself as a small, concentrated, and powerful group composed of both humans and humanoids. Utilizing their anomalous capabilities, they have engaged in multiple and repeated acts of theft, murder, and terrorism across an international scope. GOI-850 acts as an international clandestine organization operating with very few members. Despite this, however, it is capable of orchestrating conspiracies in its search for artifacts related to its sacred figure. It stores these relics within SCP-8090, creating new displays for each recovered item. From what has been gathered, it is believed that GOI-850 worships a mythical figure known as Archine - one of the very first human beings, as well as a valiant hero and brilliant tactician - and has gone to great effort to advance the capabilities of its followers - like the iconic figure - to an unknown end. At present, eighteen confirmed instances of these enhanced humanoids - referred to as "knights" by the Order - are contained. Each of these entities shows extraordinary physical capabilities and or thaumaturgic prowess, making them extraordinarily dangerous, as well as useful for the group. The leader of this group is among these augmented humanoids. Referred to as the "Apex Monarch" (POI-8090-1), it is believed to be the oldest living member of GOI-850, acting as both its commander and religious head. Notably, SCP-8090 was originally located in Europe and acted as GOI-850's sole facility. This was changed following the Foundation failing in its first attempt at containing it, after which GOI-850 managed to thaumaturgically transport the entirety of SCP-8090 to its present location in New Zealand. 17:09: The humanoids shout at the agents in English and French. Backing up, the operatives ready their rifles at the entities. GOI-850/1: Begone! All of you! Leave this sacred place! GOI-850/2: [Take up arms, brother! Fight!] 17:09: GOI-850/2 charges forward, sword raised. Cpt. DeMarcus: Fire! 17:10: Agents open fire on GOI-850/2 while others aim at GOI-850/1. While they are both visibly affected by this, GOI-850/2 continues, with GOI-850/1 joining it after. GOI-850/2 swings at a cluster of agents, but is immediately intercepted by Michaels. He points the shotgun upward and shoots at the humanoid's head. Racking the shotgun, he repeats the process until he runs out of ammo. The entity's head is shredded, terminating it and sending it to the floor. GOI-850/1: No, no! No! Cpt. DeMarcus: Hold! 17:10: GOI-850/1 puts its sword in front of it while backing away. Michaels turns to face it. The agents stop shooting. GOI-850/1: How, how dare you!? Cpt. Michaels: Fan out! Secure the area! 17:11: DeMarcus reaches for his communicator, commanding half of SIGMA-4's forces to move in and hold the lobby. Michaels and two operatives arrest GOI-850/1 while the rest spread out through the chamber. 17:13: Eight agents from SIGMA-4 arrive and take up positions around the chamber. Michaels, Vega, and DeMarcus join with their teams and move deeper into the facility down four separate halls. Two agents from Beta-777 accompany Roufhous as they walk up the stairs and into the central hallway. GOI-850/1 stares at GOI-850/2's corpse. Timeline.Truncated list of relevant events since GOI-850's discovery. 1793: Several reports are put out across the United States of America detailing unprovoked attacks by a giant humanoid creature. These accounts were spread out over several months and separate locations, however, they were consistent in their descriptions of the figure and its accomplice..Larger than a single-story house, dressed in dark black armor, glowing green eyes, and with a "witch child" in tow. 1794: Records of this same entity begin appearing across the ocean in France. The string of these accounts shows the humanoid having landed at Nouvelle-Aquitaine as it made its way westward towards Grand Est before leaving the country. 1808: After following the trail of the entity's attacks to its home base, Foundation forces launch an assault on LOI-850 ("Yhiloyehyra"). GOI-850's leadership is severely crippled but manages to escape. LOI-850 disappears along with them. Because of the numerous potential threats observed during this operation in conjunction with the location's relocation, Project Labyrinth was conceived to track down and contain GOI-850. 1968-1970: The Federal Bureau of Investigation begins a two-year-long series of inquiries into international shipping agent Kevin Gibson under suspicions of communist affiliations. During a raid on a freighter operated by Gibson, containers were found carrying an unknown number of missing persons. During this operation, Gibson had been captured and the cargo ship was seized. This was until one GOI-850 member was found on the ship, which then proceeded to terminate all but three federal officers on board, leading to Gibson escaping with the ship's cargo. The officers' testimonies proved vital to linking Gibson to GOI-850, and Gibson was subsequently designated as POI-9112. SCP-3580-A: Humanoid knight entity, four meters in height equipped with a Gatling gun on its left arm. Presently terminated. 1971: SCP-3580 attacks Site-41, killing fourteen personnel, obtaining confidential Foundation information, and terminating the Site's Director Malkin Fallen. The Foundation locates POI-9112 and attempts to capture him. This endeavor failed, as a member of GOI-850, later designated SCP-3580-A, intervened, killing all but Agent Mortimer Woodlock out of the Mobile Task Force agents responsible for the operation as well as POI-9112. 1978: SCP-3580 attacks Site-102, executing twelve personnel in the process, and discovers the location of Area-55 - the main base of Project Labyrinth. Later, the same entity intercepts an armored van escort delivering one POI-1492, killing four Foundation personnel and escaping with POI-1492. 1979: SCP-3580, joined later by SCP-3580-A, attacks Area-55, killing five personnel and stealing half of a parchment detailing the thaumaturgic incantation previously used to teleport SCP-8090. One week later, SCP-3580 and SCP-3580-A utilized that incantation to transport the Bagger 288 excavator from Germany to Turkey. Four teams of Mobile Task Force operatives from Nu-7 were deployed and engaged the two entities. The event ended with SCP-3580-A being terminated, an as-of-yet unknown cost in damages to Foundation equipment, the Bagger 288 being severely damaged, SCP-3580 escaping, rising tensions between Germany and Turkey, and a total of sixteen agents killed in action. Four days after this event, an email was sent to all Project Labyrinth personnel from a terminal in New Zealand. After 26 hours of organizing, Nu-7 was deployed and led a campaign to contain LOI-850 - later redesignated as SCP-8090. Addenda: 8090.2/Layout Lobby: The central foyer measures eighteen meters in width, thirty-one meters in length, and twenty-eight meters in height. Above, there is a split mural, depicting GOI-850's icon Archine defeating Alnilam, a large raven-like creature multiple times her size. The other then shows her imprisoning it in a cage. In both, Archine stands proud, holding a blazing sword overhead atop a shameful Alnilam. The lobby then connects to nine separate passageways connecting to SCP-8090-A, SCP-8090-B, SCP-8090-C, a lush garden, five chambers for training activities, a vast weapons arsenal, six stores of anomalous artifacts, as well as personal accommodations for most of GOI-850's members. SCP-8090-B: Located at the westernmost end of the second floor, entering through this hallway leads into a massive corridor, each end connected by a series of catwalks situated 1.4 kilometers above the ground. At the bottom, there is a mound of corpses comprised exclusively of failed GOI-850 knight entities (SCP-8090-A1). At the other end of this chamber, the bridge expands to accommodate a spiraling staircase spire extending 700 meters into the air. Alcoves are situated all along the walls, acting as stores for a consistently similar series of artifacts, as well as a collection of displays detailing a species of four armed humanoid entities engaging in acts of warfare utilizing advanced thaumaturgy. At the top of the tower is a miniature garden with a constantly flowing fountain in its center. At the base of this structure is a string of text, glowing with a bright yellow light, that appears to visually automatically translate into the reader's primary language. The text reads: A gift to serve But not tragic I cannot thank you 17:15: Entering the hallway, operatives overhear a loud, echoing sound from within the chamber. They move in, overlooking the space heavily inhabited by GOI-850 members, far more than seventy in total. They all cheer and shout at the show beneath them, where dozens of monstrous creatures brutally fight amongst one another. 17:17: Captain Michaels commands his team to stay back, where they remain unnoticed by the crowd. Michaels converses with his men on how best to control the situation. Michaels asks for reinforcements from SIGMA-4, leaving four men to hold the entrance. 17:18: Michaels receives a notice from Captain Vega's radio, informing him of the facility possessing non-Euclidean geometry. The agents arrive just as he receives this information. Cpt. Michaels: Non-Euclidean geometry. Know what that means, lads? Means we may very well be in trouble. I had a buddy some while ago. Walked into one of those kinds of anomalies. He never came back out. We might not come back out. 17:18: He sighs, moving a hand up to his forehead, pushing the hair out of his face. He racks the shotgun. Cpt. Michaels: So now, I guess it's all or nothing. Let's make this count, eh? 17:19: Michaels charts out a plan of attack, instructing each agent's movements and targets. Once everyone is ready, he leads the charge. The men break up and cover as much distance as possible as the agents' presence is noticed. 17:15: The two Beta-777 agents follow shortly behind Director Roufhous into the corridor as they take a sharp turn into the second room on the right. Their microphones pick up the sounds of a brief scuffle, accompanied by the crunch of metal. Shouting is heard inside, and they turn the corner to see Roufhous facing SCP-3580, one of its prosthetic arms ruined on the ground beside a deceased GOI-850 member. SCP-3580: You bastard! 17:16: It charges at Roufhous, its last arm stretched behind it. They swipe with their cane, slicing through the arm at its base before they slam into SCP-3580 with their shoulder, knocking it to the ground. With its back against the wall, they hold the cane to its neck and arch down. Dir. Roufhous: No. More. Witchcraft. 17:16: They look towards the Beta-777 agents before standing and stepping away. The agents walk over and secure SCP-3580 while Roufhous exits the room and continues down the hall. SCP-3580: Venator! SCP-8090-C: Located on the easternmost end of the facility, the corridor ends at a threshold of fifteen meters, whereupon subjects will begin to experience visual and auditory hallucinations for a period of twenty-five minutes. The vision opens to view a flat, cracked plain at night. The sky is heavily clouded, and distant shouting can be heard. To the north, hundreds of large chunks of rock can be seen floating in the sky, smoke rising from many of them. Upon closer examination, fortresses can be observed inside and above these parts, which crumble, and slowly rotate around a central vertical palace. Explosions, thunder, and a distant roaring can be heard as well. In the clouds, there are occasional flashes of dark red and orange light, and a silhouette of a massive winged creature can be seen. After eighteen minutes, the city begins to fall and soon after collides with the ground. The beast makes one final dive overhead from the subject, briefly coming into view and revealing a black hide before drifting back above the clouds. Sometime later, an army is seen moving out from the ruins of the city bearing banners like the ones observed in SCP-8090-B. Suddenly, the ground erupts. Crackling can be heard all around, capable of causing temporary hearing damage in subjects, as mounds begin to form on the Earth. Hume levels visibly begin to rise lie heat distortion as those mounds escalate and grow into mountains and reach further and further into the sky, each of them situated around the army. Glowing blue light emerges from the group as the mountains become kilometers tall, and begin to arch towards one another. At twenty-four minutes, the mountains fall into one another, converging upon the group. A violent shockwave is felt, and the vision ends as the crashing mountains obscure the legion. The room then returns to baseline - a small chamber with only a podium and its item as its features. Atop the stand is a spear, well out of human proportion and inscribed with the following: Be proud, not mourning. His price paid, our battle won. Be free but warned. Should you challenge my progeny, you will not be spared. Addenda: 8090.3/Interviews Following the securement of SCP-8090, a team of Project Labyrinth personnel was selected and flown out to the location, where two armed outposts had been constructed. Given the severity of the humanoid anomalies being contained, it was decided that one facility would be dedicated to holding the captured members of GOI-850 and the other for housing faculty. Three days after their arrival, interrogations began with the POIs to learn more about the group, its functions, the missing persons, and SCP-8090 itself. Senior Researcher Adelaine Pepper has been chosen to perform the majority of these interviews. Internal log - Interview: POI-8090-1/003 POI-8090-1 is seated in its cell. Its hands are cuffed to the table; anti-thaumic wards are etched into the specially designed thick chains. It hums to itself, occasionally singing in an unknown language. It scratches into the table with its abnormally sharp fingernails, etching nullified symbols into its surface. Senior Researcher Pepper opens the door and pulls up a seat at the other end of the table, facing it. Pepper: POI-8090-1. Do you understand why you are here? It does not respond. Pepper: POI-8090-1. I know you understand me. Do you understand why you are here? It does not respond. It hums louder. Pepper: If you continue to ignore my requests, then I cannot guarantee the fair treatment of your followers. It stops humming. POI-8090-1: I thought you were all impartial. Then what can you guarantee, child? Pepper: Do not refer to me in that way again, POI-8090-1. I am prepared to allow certain amenities for the Order's followers, first and foremostly a modicum of freedom in their containment, including some access to Archine's texts. POI-8090-1: But what can you offer me? Pepper: Should you prove to be of lesser value, any special attention we are affording to you currently can be placed onto another from your group, and you would then be left alone in your dimly lit containment cell. POI-8090-1: That would not matter for long. Pepper: Why is that? Silence. Pepper: POI-8090-1, if you will not elaborate then I see no further point in continuing this. POI-8090-1: You know what lies beyond the maze. You've seen it. You've been there. Generations of work cut off now. Centuries of lifetimes cut short. What did you think of it? She leans in closer. Pepper: Tell me what we saw in there. Its hands come to a stop. It looks up at Pepper. POI-8090-1: God. You saw a god, my child. And it is in pain. Pepper: What does that mean? POI-8090-1: Put it all together. Then you can tell me. Following this interview, POI-8090-1 refused to provide any actionable information for twenty-five hours. Attempts at interviewing other high-ranking GOI-850 members yielded almost exclusively unhelpful results, save for one interaction with SCP-3580, logged below. Internal log - Interview: SCP-3580/001 Opening the door, Pepper walks in to find SCP-3580 lying on its bed facing the wall missing both of its prosthetic limbs. Pepper: SCP-3580. Do you understand why you are here? SCP-3580: Piss off. Pepper: Please answer the question. SCP-3580: I refuse. Go ahead and kill me already. Pepper: I'm afraid that is not an option. Silence. Pepper: What kind of mission would require transporting the largest machine in the world to another country? Silence. Pepper: I'm sure there could have been other ways to go about that process. Other quieter options that wouldn't have led to so many deaths. Silence. Pepper: Nor the death of your associate. Silence. Pepper: We know neither of you two planned out the event. You were just the operators behind it. What did this "Apex Monarch" say was the point of it all? What could be the purpose of such a stunt? Silence. SCP-3580: I said piss off. Pepper: Not without an answer, SCP-3580, now answer the question. SCP-3580 struggles in its bed, thrashing around wildly until it faces Pepper. SCP-3580: He told me it would be easy. He said it wasn't buried that deep underground. He assured me that we could handle it. Then four planes descended down onto us, and you criminals all came out with your guns in droves! It didn't matter how many of you I struck down when two more men would take the first's place! We should have been able to handle it, but then more and more and more came, and we were drowned in the blood of the lives you people threw away that day! SCP-3580: My fa- It cuts itself off. SCP-3580: Everything was lost. Lost because of you. Pepper: But what was the point of the excavator? It breathes heavily, staring at Pepper for a moment. It slumps back. SCP-3580: You don't even care, do you? Pepper: That is not up for discussion. Please, what was the point of the excavator? Taking several seconds, its breath slowly returns to it. SCP-3580: It was his plan. Pepper: Hmm. And what was it that you took from that dig site? SCP-3580: How should I know? Pepper: How could you not remember? SCP-3580 growls as it sits up on its bed, meeting Pepper at eye level. SCP-3580: I was shot at. Repeatedly. What was the worst pain you've ever endured, princess? Pepper: That is not up for discussion. SCP-3580: Then we're not discussing anything. It slumps back down on its bed. SCP-3580: Get out. Afterward: SCP-3580 was then given eight hours before another interview was conducted. 17:15: SIGMA-4 agents situated in the lobby watch as a flood of humanoids emerges from the four chambers at the top of the facility, all streaming out with weapons. Backing up, the operatives call for reinforcements as they attempt to control the hostiles. A stray shot hitting one agent in his body armor sends the scene into chaos. 17:16: The remainder of outside SIGMA-4's team move in. 17:17: One Beta-777 walks back out into the hallway and chases after Roufhous while the other secures SCP-3580. 17:17: Entering into an antechamber, the agent watches as the room shifts. Six hallways all around begin to close as one opens in front of the Director. He tries to keep up with them as they enter through it into a new passageway. 17:18: The agent looks at both of the walls, covered in unidentified red runes, that echo with sounds of thrashing and raspful screeching on the other ends. The hall is dimly lit, and a bright light shines at the end of it. Multiple times during this, the operative groans and the camera shakes. There is an ambient heartbeat sound that grows louder as the two close in towards the end. Fig 1.2 Attached file. 17:19: They both stop after stepping into another antechamber with a stationary thaumic barrier at the farside wall. Two sets of bookshelves are placed on either end of the room, where a humanoid can be seen quickly rummaging through the covers, not yet having noticed the presence of the personnel. 17:19: Roufhous walks up to the barrier and retrieves a parchment from their coat. The entity notices and watches as they bury the paper into the inferno. GOI-850/3:.Later redesignated POI-8090-1. Venator. 17:19: It stops what it is doing and picks up its staff. It slowly steps over, towering over the operatives. GOI-850/3: Your consortium of ilk again trample upon this sacred place. 17:19: The entity's staff begins to radiate with a dark gold light. GOI-850/3: I have stood for centuries as Archine's very will. 17:19: It grips its staff with both hands. GOI-850/3: This idiocy will be tolerated no longer! Dir. Roufhous: You won't get away. None of you will. 17:19: They pull their hand out, revealing a charred carcass. They turn and head back out into the passageway. Internal log - Interview: SCP-3580/003 SCP-3580 remains depressed on the bed. Pepper steps into the room, accompanied by Senior Researcher Krow, who takes a seat beside SCP-3580. Krow: Hello, Ms. Ramexe. Pepper: SCP-3580, do you understand why you are here? SCP-3580: The same reason why you should be in here with me. Pepper: I need you to comply with my simple requests. SCP-3580: I don't care, princess. I really don't. I don't know what I took from there, I don't know what he did with it. I really can't help you, even if I wanted to, now just leave me be. Krow: That is all fine, Proxima, really. That isn't why we are here. He pulls a collection of photos out from his pocket - including one depicting the thaumic gateway located within SCP-8090-A - and shows them off. Krow: Could I ask if you recognize any of this? Turning in its bed to face him, SCP-3580 sighs. SCP-3580: Yes. Yes, I do. Addenda: 8090.4/GOI-850 Religion Analysis of items found within SCP-8090 has begun, revealing a number of discoveries pertaining to subjects of interest in history, anomalous or otherwise. With these items, along with brief descriptions added to some of the displays associated with them, as well as information acquired through further interviews with SCP-3580 and other GOI-850 members, a preliminary report has been constructed outlining the beliefs of GOI-850, detailed below. GOI-850: Archine's Eclipse Presented by Senior Researcher Adelaine Pepper Divinity is fallible. Divinity is not above humanity. Divinity too may die. These are the core beliefs of GOI-850. That humanity is separate from the divine, and should not be made to serve them. As put forth by Archine herself when she brought down the demigod Alnilam. The group's icon is a legendary testament, proof of the potential within every person for greatness. To follow in her footsteps, though grueling, is to walk the path of striving for improvement and perfection. But to fight for her cause is to enter a war against the order of reality; eclipsing the original to bring forth a new one in mankind's favor. GOI-850's most revered tale details Archine conquering a beast, described much like a European dragon, named Yharlashaye, in order to gain favor with the goddess of magic. Needing a weapon capable of killing the monster, she ventured into the domain of the Archdaemon Carnis and battled her way through escalating challenges, eventually to face off against a semi-humanoid entity coated in impenetrable bone armor. Archine outmaneuvered the beast in swordplay and fashioned an unbreakable blade from the carcass. Then, joined by her brothers and sisters, Archine led them into battle against Yharlashaye on a mountain. Fighting for hours, the beast had cut them down to their final three. It then took to the sky, preparing to rain fire down upon the remaining mortals. Running up to the tallest hill, Archine lept into the sky after it, and the two clashed in the sky. Stabbing her blade into Yharlashaye's neck, Archine disarmed its most devastating weapon and rode it back down to the ground where her comrades then began restraining the animal with chains. Removing the edge from the creature's neck, the creature's fell blood had caused it to burn bright as Archine enchanted it. Presenting the beast as a gift, the goddess rewarded Archine amidst the climactic first Storm, where she would serve as one of three generals for the city of Hyphera. According to GOI-850, humanity has always had to take from the world to change it; this act was no exception. I am inclined to agree. Object Description: 240 cm long claymore comprised of a dense ivory and metallic material, blue/red in coloration, with glowing yellow thuamic symbols etched along its fuller. When biological matter comes into contact with the sword, the edges will begin to harmlessly ignite. Subjects besides human beings are incapable of holding the weapon. Associated Passage: "Soulless now as it is, it is useless compared to its elden glory. I am so sorry, my sister. I will carry your flame with me always." Object Description: A series of chains, composed of the same blue/red substance, each eighty-two millimeters thick. The length extends to four hundred meters. Associated Passage: Wrought from the sky, Yharlashaye was imprisoned Made to serve My will, his obedience was rewarded Now, I hope your new shackles fit you well On 23/3/1979, after exploring the top floor of the facility as well as examining the detained participants found within SCP-8090-A upon its securement, a sizeable number of persons originally reported missing due to the actions of POI-9112 were found, most unharmed, many having converted to GOI-850's religion. Interviews with these people are ongoing, headed mainly by Senior Researcher Krow. Current plans are to amnesticize and release them once it has been concluded that they are safe for reintegration into their respective societies. However, a large number of the missing persons remain so thus far. Analysis of the contents of SCP-8090-B's chasm has begun. 17:21: GOI-850/3 emerges from the six-way antechamber and passes through the hallway, looking inside the second chamber on its left. It slams its hand into the doorframe, cracking the stone, and it rushes out towards the lobby. 17:22: Running down the staircase, it steps into the center of the chamber and looks around. 17:22: Agents all stationed around the lobby aim at GOI-850/3. It stares in disbelief. It quickly turns in circles, reeling as it finds every humanoid previously noted all arrested and on the ground. 17:23: Director Roufhous steps out at the top of the stairs. GOI-850/3 turns its gaze to them. GOI-850/3: Idiots. Idiots! What have you fools done?! 17:24: Operatives in the lobby all get a notification from DeMarcus' communicator, notifying them that his team has secured their chamber. GOI-850/3 overhears this. GOI-850/3: No, no. 17:25: Operatives get a notification from Vega's communicator, confirming the securement of their hallway after having terminated four hostiles within. 17:26: Captain Michaels walks out from the secondary passageway, looking around at all the entities on the ground, before walking over to the balcony and shouting at the other operatives. Cpt. Michaels: Lads! Need five more over here. Come on! GOI-850/3: No, no. No! 17:26: It shouts in an unknown language as runes start to glow within the chamber, darkening it with a golden hue. Gripping its staff in both hands, GOI-850/3 points it towards Captain Michaels, and a bolt of golden light emanates from it, zipping through the air and striking Michaels in the chest. 17:26: GOI-850/3 begins attacking the closest agents to it, killing two immediately and proceeding to the next. Michaels is sent backward, crashing into a wall with a large hole in his torso. 17:27: Roufhous walks down the steps. They reach the bottom as GOI-850/3 focuses on them. 17:27: A sphere of light manifests around it, which absorbs the incoming rounds all around as it brings its staff above its head. Instantly, it moves forward several meters and swings its staff down at Roufhous, cleaving through their shoulder down to their hip. 17:27: A sound reverberates through their electronic mask as they crumple to the ground. GOI-850/3: I am Archine's will! Your shepherd! If you choose to remain misguided, then you will all burn in the ashes mankind will leave for you- 17:28: Roufhous appears behind GOI-850/3 and impales it with their cane, which quickly appears to visibly change, leaving a Zweihander sword in its place.This is attributable to Director Roufhous' illusion anomaly capability.. 17:28: It falls to its knees as agents move to secure it properly. Roufhous leaves and walks back up the stairs, finding Agent Woodlock examining Michaels' body. Woodlock looks up at them. Agt. Woodlock: He's, he's dead, sir. Dir. Roufhous: Welcome back to the fold then, Captain. Efforts are ongoing to explore every chamber within LOI-850 (Tentatively being designated SCP-8090) and secure every onsite member of GOI-850, as well as to locate the missing persons related to POI-9112. Addenda: 8090.5/Alpha Omega SCP-8090-A: Corridor leads into an enlarged antechamber, nine meters in height, with a series of six hallways of equidistant placements, two of which connect to a higher floor while another two descend to a lower level. Entering any of these passages beyond a five-meter threshold will result in the subject becoming universally unrecoverable. SCP-8090-A is a labyrinth of unknown scale that will automatically change its interior design - the placement of its hallways, walls, stairways, and exits - to such a degree that escape becomes practically impossible. Inside SCP-8090-A, SCP-8090-Ω was discovered. On 25/3/1979, Captain Woodlock led a team of operatives from both Nu-7 and Beta-777 into SCP-8090-A. The log of this event has been included below. Operation Transcript 16:00: Six operatives enter the lobby, joined by Woodlock and Roufhous. Multiple sections of the chamber have been closed off, including the passages to SCP-8090-C. Guards are stationed all around the room carrying assault rifles. A team of junior researchers, as well as Senior Researcher Krow, are standing around a foldable table, discussing their findings. 16:00: Senior Researcher Krow notices the group and leaves the table, coming over to meet with Woodlock. Sr. Krow: Director. Captain. Cpt. Woodlock: Doctor. Sr. Krow: Do you think this will be enough? Cpt. Woodlock: It'll be plenty, sir. Sr. Krow: Hm. If you say so. One, two - Eight in all. 16:02: Walking back to the table, he picks up a series of small items. He spins around and tosses one at Woodlock. He catches and examines it. It is a small ball, inscribed with four carvings. Cpt. Woodlock: Thaumic? Sr. Krow: Pocket-sized wards. Little glimpses of magic for the uninitiated. We picked up a trick or two from the Order and added a dash of our own wizardry. Break one, and it should instantly transport you back here. Krow points at a collection of dust circles in the center of the room. Cpt. Woodlock: Should? Sr. Krow: It's still rather prototypical. But, it should act as a last resort. With any luck, you'll be fine either way. 16:03: He hands one out to each member of the team, then faces Woodlock again. Sr. Krow: Let me see yours. 16:04: Holding his hand out with the ball in it, Krow takes Woodlock's wrist. Cpt. Woodlock: Uh, doc- 16:04: Pulling out a knife, Krow slices into Woodlock's thumb. Woodlock pulls away, closing his hand and clutching it. The other agents ready their rifles. Cpt. Woodlock: Ah, what the… eh… heck!? Sr. Krow: Don't be a baby. Have to get a bit of blood on them to work. Now it's bound to you, and vice versa. You all should all have your own knives, right? 16:05: Looking down at his hand, the ball has begun to glow a faint white light. The other operatives begin the process of activating their wards, except for Roufhous, who immediately stomps it under their boot before continuing towards the staircase. Sr. Krow: Uncalled for. 16:06: Reaching into his pocket, he removes another sphere and hands it to Woodlock. Sr. Krow: Luckily, I was expecting a proper team. Now quit loitering already. Cpt. Woodlock: Fine. Thanks for the concern. Let's go. 16:06: The team follows Woodlock as he passes Krow and the staircase, entering the hallway preceding SCP-8090-A. They enter the antechamber where the way ahead remains open. They continue. 16:10: At the end of the passageway, the team arrives at the previously sighted thaumic barrier. Agents from Beta-777 move up to deal with it. They draw inscriptions into the air, glowing dull white. 16:14: The glyphs accumulate in the air, all of them placed in articulate positioning around the lock of the barrier. Sparks released from the barrier decrease as the seventh rune is drawn. 16:19: Agents complete the sixteenth symbol and place it on the lock. The barrier briefly shines brighter before blinding the camera in white light. As visuals return, the barrier crumbles apart. The sound of falling sand is heard. 16:20: Operatives file out inside, looking around at a large, window-domed interior, where the sky can be seen with radiant stars. A large globe is placed in the center of the room, dotted with various markings written in an unknown language, with inaccurate representations of the continents, of which there are eight. There is a grand table situated before the globe, stacked high with papers, many of which are written in English or other known languages. Lining the walls is a collection of dead plant life. Banners hang from rails on the ceiling, tattered and ruined. 16:21: Past the globe, there is a staircase leading to a platform at the back of the chamber. In the center, placed all the way at the back, there is an enlarged, polished bedframe, its contents having been severely withered. Lying atop the decaying mound, however, a skeletal frame is visible, draped in thick armor and bearing a crown with four horns. 16:22: Approaching the anomaly, Agent Duke calls over to Captain Woodlock, and he comes running, followed by the rest of the unit. They all stare at the corpse that is SCP-8090-Ω. 16:23: Silence. 16:25: Agents look to the left of the bedframe, where a descending set of steps obscures a glowing structure down below. Flames rise up from the depth. 16:26: Operatives look closer, observing a swirling maelstrom of light between two large white structures set alight, generating a noise of crackling lightning intermixed with the low gusting of wind, comparable to a quiet wail. Agt. Cowrite: What on Earth is that? Cpt. Woodlock: Call it in. We found the target. FILE 2/3 ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8090" by Roufhous, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8090. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Background3 Name: File:The Skies of Fire.jpg Author: Gorgosek License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_Skies_of_Fire.jpg Filename: Barrier Name: File:2017-04-30 22-17-34 lp-ac-ouv-haut-bois.jpg Author: Thomas Bresson License: Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:2017-04-30_22-17-34_lp-ac-ouv-haut-bois.jpg Filename: Draggy Name: File:Dragon and sword.svg Author: Frédéric MICHEL License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International, 3.0 Unported, 2.5 Generic, 2.0 Generic and 1.0 Generic Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Dragon_and_sword.svg Filename: Roof Name: File:Mars - Cryptic Region Type B.jpg Author: Mariagat Włodek Głażewski License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mars_-_Cryptic_Region_Type_B.jpg Filename: Meat Name: File:Tulipa pestle surface - SEM, colorized.tiff Author: TiberiusRufus License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Tulipa_pestle_surface_-_SEM,_colorized.tiff Filename: Background2 Name: File:NASA’s Webb Reveals Cosmic Cliffs, Glittering Landscape of Star Birth - Flickr - James Webb Space Telescope (1).png Author: NASA's James Webb Space Telescope from Greenbelt, MD, USA License: Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:NASA%E2%80%99s_Webb_Reveals_Cosmic_Cliffs,_Glittering_Landscape_of_Star_Birth_-_Flickr_-_James_Webb_Space_Telescope_(1).png Filename: Lobby Name: File:Neues Rathaus Hannover, Innenansicht.jpg Author: Raycer License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Neues_Rathaus_Hannover,_Innenansicht.jpg Filename: Kharos Name: File:Fireworks (2641772676).jpg Author: Jodie Wilson from Mountain View, USA License: Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Fireworks_(2641772676).jpg Filename: Incident Name: File:Red fireworks in night sky, Victory Day, Rostov-on-Don, Russia.jpg Author: Vyacheslav Argenberg License: Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Red_fireworks_in_night_sky,_Victory_Day,_Rostov-on-Don,_Russia.jpg |
SCP-8091 | keter | The subject must be entirely consumed by the conflagration. Image recovered in the course of investigation. Item #: SCP-8091 Special Containment Procedures: Containment of SCP-8091 is presently not feasible. Should an SCP-8091 event be detected to occur, the anomaly is to be discredited via use of Cover Story-3049-SDLO ("Mundane Forest Fire"). If necessary, Foundation agents are to be deployed to the scene in order to assist with fire suppression. Foundation webcrawler Agnes.aic is to monitor the internet for any mentions of the anomaly. Any such mentions are to be taken down before being forwarded to the SCP-8091 Research Team, currently located at Site-270. Present study is divided into two objectives. The Department of Thermodynamics is responsible for analyzing the exact mechanics of the flames produced by SCP-8091 while the Department of Analytics is attempting to create a full list of triggers and conditions for an SCP-8091 event to occur. This project has been given Priority Level EKHI. Description: SCP-8091 designates an anomalous phenomenon in which a fire will burn much hotter and longer than baseline thermodynamics would suggest. SCP-8091 occurs when a certain set of conditions and scenarios are met. Although the full set of prerequisites is pending review, they are believed to include the following: The fire must be triggered by at least one human subject; The event must consume several items of personal value to the subject; The fire must be started with some manner of accelerant, typically kerosene; Large amounts of firewood and other fuel must be provided;1 The subject must be entirely consumed by the conflagration; Once the flame has been ignited, the event will proceed. Due to the fact that all SCP-8091 events have resulted in the death of their initiator as well as mass damage to the surrounding environs, it is unclear what follows. Addendum — Document-02/07/2009-SCP-8091 The following is an apograph of scripture found charred into the heart of the instigating subject of an SCP-8091 event that occured on 02/07/2009 in Victoria, Australia. Implications unclear. Leave the car. Leave the road. Leave any traces of civilization behind you as you walk into the forest. You are alone, singular. A pilgrim. The autumn leaves crunch underfoot. You can hear birdsong. You’ll be in the dark, but the heat and light will guide you. You will know where to go. Stop walking when you come into a clearing. It won’t be long now. It starts at sunrise, when the sky is red. You’ll feel it before you see it, as the planet is warmed once more by the great eye watching over us. The heat fills you with purpose. It’s time to begin. Arrange the sacrifices around yourself in a circle. Smear the ground with paint and charcoal. Dig a pit if you like. Bring plenty of matches and oil. As much as would make you feel ready. If you truly want to do this properly, then you’ll have brought everything of value to you. Antiques and books. Pictures of your family. Spouse and children if you have any. Everything you ever had that ever meant anything must be given to the blaze. It is the only way. But also give unto it worthless trash. Broken dolls and newspapers that no one will ever read again. Products with missing pieces that remove whatever pretended functionality they may have had once. By doing so, remind yourself that all is kindling and nothing has value besides the Inferno. There is no difference between priceless memories and dusty trash. That’s why you’re doing this. You’re here because you have almost nothing left to lose. You’ve always been the type of person to throw things onto the altar. Money, people, hopes, dreams. It’s all the same. The fire was calling to you, always. Telling you to come closer and closer. There’s only one last thing to give it. Are you frightened? You should be. The Conflagration should inspire fear as well as awe. Never forget that. Prepare for its coming. Start by lighting a cigarette and then pushing it into your flesh. Arm, torso, head, neck. Anywhere will do. It stings and a red welt forms immediately. The pain is necessary. Bringing the fire closer into you. Push it in deep to your core. Reignite the tobacco every time it's extinguished. Then press it in even deeper. Do it again and again until it starts to feel healthy. This sacrifice has lived for millennia innumerable. You stand on the shoulders of giants. Kalanos. The Old Believers who endured the samosozhigateli. Fayu. The Charans. The Rajputs. Zarmanochegas. Even the Savior. Jesus did not die upon the Cross, for only fire is truly capable of divinity. Only the pain of burning can repay the sins of the world. Ixion burns so that we may live. Remember that. All of them did what you must do now. Give thanks and prepare to join them in their glory. To burn yourself alive is to turn your body, your life, into a pile of ash. To make oneself divine. A bonfire of hopes and dreams. Every single atom of your body is set alight as you offer up yourself to the flame, to a greater purpose. You’re making an oblation to God. But then again, as you burn, as you immolate, you’re not thinking of anything like that. You’re just thinking of the heat, devoid of any comfort or joy as it kills you. You can’t even breathe as the smoke fills your lungs and there’s nowhere to run because the fire is on you. It’s everywhere. Doesn’t that sound beautiful? Take a deep breath. It’s the last time you’ll do it without the sacrament of smoke filling your lungs. You’re ready. Spill the kerosene. Light the matches. Your skin immediately comes alight in a welt of pain and blackening. The oil ignites. Your lower body goes first, covered in the heat. Your legs stagger and fall. As you feel it move up and down, there is only one thought that goes through your mind. Only one singular reality. You’re burning, you’re burning, you’re burning, you’re burning, and it hurts so badly. There is no worse agony than you are experiencing right now. You collapse instantly, allowing the fire its feast. The sacrifices you brought make good kindling. The last photograph of you and your mother together goes first, that precious moment hungrily consumed in a heartbeat. How valuable was it really? Next goes the forest, the trees blackening and falling down one at a time. They add fuel in a cascading pattern that stretches further and further. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before. It’s like everything you’ve dreamed. Wildlife are touched by the Inferno too, their screams joining you in the choir. They take communion with you, choking on the smoke thick and black. They're just as lost as you are. At a certain temperature, your nerves themselves melt and the pain stops. Sensation is lost in the face of incomprehensible heat. There is an upper limit to the agony your body can experience. But that doesn’t happen here. You're awake for every moment of agonized bliss as the world melts. You can hear the crackling of the wood. You can understand it. You’re so warm. You never knew how cold you were before. How impossibly frigid. The Inferno holds you in its warm embrace. It tells you truths that you thought you’d never understand. No Judaism or Buddhism or Socialism or Atheism or Capitalism or Sikhism could ever compare to this heat. No false idol ever could. This is the only worship that is true. The oldest worship. The worship that took place in the deepest caves and the darkest pits, only illuminated by the flames of the Conflagration. The altars of Moloch. To feed all of yourself to your God is the only way to show your faith. You’re crying now, the heat denying you even that comfort as it consumes your very tears. It hurts so badly. Third degree, Kelvins, scales from 1 to 10, nothing can understand the sensations you are subject to. But really, you know that you deserve this. You did it to yourself, didn’t you? You should have realized there is no love here. This is not a loving and kind divinity. This is a benevolent hatred, a necessary suffering. This is the apathetic sadism of the Desolation. You should never have forgotten that. Have you ever learned of vicarious atonement? It’s a lie. One cannot buy off God. Its appetite cannot be satisfied by mere trinkets. God used to settle for the bull, but now It wants Yitzchak. It has always wanted Yitzchak, an all-consuming hunger. And now, it wants you. Welcome it with open arms. Realize what you are in the face of such majesty. You are unclean filth. You are a festering pustule of petty sins and meaningless hopes and miserable desires, and the only thing that purifies is the Inferno. Cauterization is the only way. Cut out the disease and burn the infection. You’ve done all you could. You’ve sent up the smoke and incense. Smell its radiance. That glorious symphony of oil and gasoline. You're almost finished. The Desolation has consumed everything. There are no more trees. There is no more birdsong. There is only the sun, finally close to you. Finally understandable. You may try to scream one last time, but the smoke and crackling takes the sound away before you make it. The Conflagration kisses you with tongues of red and orange. The colors so beautiful and vivid, you wish you could see them fully. Your eyes have melted already, running down your face like tears of joy. The skin has long peeled off your scorched bones and left you a charred skeleton, but that’s ok. You can smile now. You’ve earned it. After so long, the day has finally come. You’ve actually been redeemed. Footnotes 1. The vast majority of SCP-8091 events take place in a forest. Scopophobia: The Employee of the Month Anthology 2024 Masklophobia: A Murder Onstage ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8091" by Cathy Autumn, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8091. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Name: Trees burning during Creek Fire.jpg Author: CAL FIRE, C. Tolmie License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Name: Deerfire high res.jpg Author: John McColgan, Bureau of Land Management, Alaska Fire Service. – Alaskan Type I Incident Management Team License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-8092 | neutralized | Item #: SCP-8092 Level 1 Declassified SCP-8092's brain, removed and preserved after death. Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8092 died of complications relating to its physiology on 7/15/24, at which point its containment procedures were immediately discontinued. Its body is to be incinerated in accordance with low-priority neutralization event protocols. With the sole exception of its brain, SCP-8092 was considered normative for an adult human male. The majority of its containment procedures did not differ from default accommodations. Dr. Allison Coen recorded a weekly incident log during SCP-8092's time in containment. SCP-8092 also provided its own weekly records unprompted. Both sets of notes have been attached. Description: SCP-8092 was a clone of Greazeburger Earth CEO Martin Greaze (PoI-782), identifying itself under the name "Foxlot1 Greaze." SCP-8092's physiology was almost entirely human, save for its brain, which more closely resembled that of domestic sheep.2 It was nevertheless fully sapient. SCP-8092's self-described purpose was to be a "standby clone" - a replacement body for deceased Greazeburger Earth employees, with its brain intended to be surgically replaced or altered. While Greazeburger's use of clones to replace employees is at this point well-documented,3 SCP-8092 is unique in that it was never used as planned. Discovery: SCP-8092 was discovered in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on 6/4/24, attempting to sell Greazeburger Earth stock holdings4 to passing civilians in exchange for ten cents (or, possibly, one hundred dollars.5) The general population of Philadelphia appears to have mistaken it for a vagrant promoting some sort of esoteric multi-level marketing scheme, and as such it was almost entirely ignored for several months. SCP-8092 was only discovered by the Foundation when, by coincidence, it attempted to solicit investments from a staff member broadly familiar with Greazeburger Incorporated. The administration of amnestics to the public was deemed unnecessary. It is not known what brought SCP-8092 to Earth. Dr. Coen has speculated that it was rejected by the company and dumped on Earth in a haphazard attempt to dispose of it. Incident Records: 6/10/24 6/17/24 6/24/24 7/1/24 7/8/24 7/15/24 INCIDENT LOG 6/10/24 Subject: SCP-8092 Facilitator: Dr. Allison Coen 6/6/24: SCP-8092 has been formally brought into containment at Site-322. While it is clearly connected to Greazeburger Incorporated, it is not clear at this time exactly how. I have contacted Dr. Kensing, and he has agreed to visit Site-322 this week. 6/7/24: I interviewed SCP-8092 today. While it was able to describe its intended purpose as a "standby clone," and expressed reverence for Greazeburger Earth and its goals, it was unable or unwilling to describe in detail exactly what those goals were. Its speech contained too many blatant falsehoods or non-sequiturs to be considered useful (describing the Foundation as a "competing corporation," insisting on referring to me as "colonel," arguing for over ten minutes that the "practice" of long division is a "woke myth," etc.) 6/8/24: Dr. Kensing arrived today and interviewed SCP-8092. It did not provide any new information and attempted to bite Dr. Kensing multiple times. 6/9/24: Medical testing has revealed SCP-8092's unique mental physiology, as well as its approximate age - it is somewhere approaching forty years old, and does not seem to have been cloned fully-formed as an adult. This implies that Greazeburger Incorporated's access to cloning technology may be more limited than previously thought, and might not necessarily exceed the Foundation's. 6/10/24: SCP-8092 requested red construction paper and writing impliments be brought to its cell. This request was approved; within an hour, SCP-8092 provided a written report, asking for it be sent directly to Martin Greaze. SCP-8092's natural handwriting is identical to the font "Playfair Display." Dr. Kensing and I cannot agree on whether this qualifies as an anomalous property. COMPANY REPORT JUNE 10ND 2024 bY FOXLOT HA! These government clowns think they can scrutinize Fresh Company Secrets™ outta my mind tissues! I say again, HA! I say it twice, HA HA! It has been Seven martawful MONTHS since my deployment on Earth, the new hit planet on Everyone's lips, and although I have yet to understand what I am meant to Do here, I have been delivered into the DEVILISH HALLS of a COMPETING ORGAN! Yes, I have discovered a "FOUNDATION!" A charity, perhaps? disgustful. but Here, here is the FUNNY PART, dearest Martin! They brought me into their LOVING EMPLOY like a MOTH to a PANT. They wined me They dined me They confined me and they Studied my interior vitals like it was a HOT CRISP DATE! And they think - get this - they think there's something useful in my head™! I am a cLONE. I am a hot and wet skin suit, pain and torture resistant, extra flammable for easy disposal, and as empty in the head as biologically possible, guarunteed by Greazeburger Legal™! And I'm the sap they have strapped to the interrogation chair! A LITERAL NOBODY! HA hA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA Ha HA Ha HA HA HA ha HA HA HA HA hA HA HA HA HA HA HA Ha HA HA Ha HA HA HA ha HA HA HA HA hA HA HA HA HA HA HA Ha HA HA HA HA HA hA HA HA HA HA HA Ha HA HA HA HA ha HA HA HA HA hA HA HA HA HA HA HA Ha HA HA Ha HA HA HA ha HA HA HA HA hA HA Oh Martin, you'll be giddy! And when you come back to get me, I'll be rewarded! My body will go to an excecutive! And not just a pencil-pusher either, a real top dog, maybe you, Martin! And then you'll buy out this SLOSHING WET DROOL PUDDLE OF A PLANET and turn it into mMICROWAVE-READY PLANET NUGGETS®! With love, Foxlot Greaze Standby Clone, Greazeburger Earth INCIDENT LOG 6/17/24 Subject: SCP-8092 Facilitator: Dr. Allison Coen 6/11/24: SCP-8092 was verbally aggressive to Foundation staff throughout the day, but did not resist containment. Interviews have been placed on indefinite haitus in lieu of allowing SCP-8092 to continue writing its "company reports." These documents will be archived and attached to its weekly incident logs. 6/12/24: SCP-8092 reacted extremely positively to the turkey sandwiches served for lunch today at the containment hall cafeteria. Turkey sandwiches may be useful as a potential reward for good behavior in the future. On an unrelated note, SCP-8092 complained of mild headaches throughout the afternoon. 6/13/24: SCP-8092 was found repeatedly slapping the wall of its containment cell, occasionally pausing to rest and kiss its own hand. When asked what it was doing, it responded "escaping" - while this technically is SCP-8092's first documented escape attempt, it is far enough from being viable to not be a cause for concern. 6/14/24: At 8:41 P.M., SCP-8092 began screaming from within its cell. Fearing a medical emergency, a physician was called to its cell immediately, but no issue could be diagnosed. After an hour had passed, SCP-8092 ceased screaming, and calmly explained that it was "practicing." 6/15/24: SCP-8092 found a dime on the floor of the containment hall while being escorted to the cafeteria for lunch. It proceeded to attempt to bribe two armed guards into releasing it. When that failed, it then attempted to bribe them into providing it a turkey sandwich. It was not given a turkey sandwich. 6/16/24: SCP-8092 requested to discuss "business matters" with Dr. Kensing specifically. Dr. Kensing was flown back to Site-322 for an impromptu interview, during which SCP-8092 did not speak and once again attempted to bite him. SCP-8092 is no longer to be given interviews upon its own request. 6/17/24: SCP-8092 once again complained of a mild headache, and did not eat much throughout the day. Behavior was otherwise normal. COMPANY REPORT JUNE 17rd 2024 BY FOXLOT This so-called "Doctor" Kensing and so-called "Colonel" Coen are PHONY SCAM ARTIST PAKE FAID SHILLBRAINS who wouldn't know Family if it PLUGGED THEIR BREATH HOLES WITH QUICK-DRYING GUMS and SPAT IN THEIR EYES (note: Upon my eventual rescue, you should plug their breath holes with quick-drying gums and spit in their eyes) They call themselves "Researchers!" but they don't even accept BRIBES? Unsubordination! A scandal, it is! I should report them to the highest authority — YOU! AND IN FACT JUST DID! I am such a good boy. My recent Shameful Employment at the The Foundation corporation has fallen into a drearlerious routine: I sleep, I wake, I yell at a doctorman, I "eat" "food" (they don't even have Translucent Nutrient Paste at this establishment! What kind of clonehouse are they RUNNING!?) and then I sleep again. And yet in such a minimalistastic environment, dearest Martin, I must admit I have still failed to identify why you have sent me to here! I KNOW it must be for a Reason! There is some way I am meant to please Your high bottom line, during my terrible stay at this terrible place! I just can't seem to SNIFF IT! The food is good, I shall give them that much! And the doctormans are nice even when I yell at them or Bite and Attacks them! And this "bed" item they have given me for sleep is much more restful than the old Plastic Relaxation Pod™! (We should steal its patent) Neverthemind, my loyalty remands stead-fast to YOU! I musn't doubt, and I musn't stray! YOU and YOU ALONE are my Creator and Truest Employer, O Martin! And I willn't forget the mission you have sent me on, as soon as I figure out what it is!!! Thinking of You, Foxlot Greaze Standby Clone, Greazeburger Earth INCIDENT LOG 6/24/24 Subject: SCP-8092 Facilitator: Dr. Allison Coen 6/18/24: SCP-8092 once again attempted to escape the facility, this time by climbing out a "window" - said "window" was, in actuality, the bedframe in its cell, which it "discovered" while its mattress was being cleaned. Personnel had to disassemble the bedframe in order to free SCP-8092 after it had gotten stuck between the boards. 6/19/24: SCP-8092 once again requested to speak with Dr. Kensing. Request was denied. 6/20/24: SCP-8092 began uncontrollably sobbing at 5:30 A.M., and did not at any point in the day cease for longer than an hour. It was unable to describe exactly what had caused it such distress in any words other than "the guilt." Extra personnel are recommended to attend to SCP-8092's containment until we can determine what exactly it feels "guilty" of. 6/21/24: SCP-8092 continued sobbing throughout the day, and remained unable to describe why. No major incidents at Site-322 have been reported for the past two days. Whatever SCP-8092 feels guilty for, we have been so far unable to find any impact. 6/22/24: Dr. Kensing visited Site-322 today in part to log SCP-8092's recent unusual behavior. SCP-8092, still while sobbing, attempted to bite him. Dr. Kensing has made it clear he no longer intends to be personally involved with SCP-8092. 6/23/24: SCP-8092 agreed to cease crying in exchange for a turkey sandwich, although it struggled in doing so. SCP-8092 would not agree to cease attempting to bite people. Once calmed, SCP-8092 was finally able to describe the root of its guilt: it had a dream the night of 6/20, and believes this dream to be a slight on Greazeburger Incorporated. Additional personnel have been dismissed, and SCP-8092's containment is once again to be considered fully stable. 6/24/24: SCP-8092, while still clearly under emotional distress, has largely returned to its normative pattern of behavior. COMPANY REPORT 24 JUNETH 2024 BY FoXLoT Oh, MARTIN! ALMIGHTY MART, THE BIG CHEESE, LEND to me your forgiveness with compound interest! Have MERCY on me, although I have Slighted your name and your Holy Greed! I CONFESS! I CONFESS TO IT ALL! On the night of June of Number-Day Twenty, year 2-0-2-4, I engaged in UNWHOLESOME RECREATION ON COMPANY TIME! Yes, I had a dream! A DREAM that night, Martin! I swear I did not mean to! I swear I will not dream again! My mind is plastic and malleable , even still, I promise to you! I am a Good Clone! In my dream, I was back once again at Greazeburger Incubation Office and Nursery, returned to when I was young, but my body was grown as it is now. The Man Whose Face is On The Benjamin Coin, whose name I do not know, was sitting in a rocking chair staring at me. He asked me if I wanted to see something amazing! I promise you, Martin, I said the Correct thing! I told him, to take my own sightseeing vacation would waste company resources! I am finally at maturity, and that means I can be Very Useful™! But when I said this, he only laughed at me! He laughed and laughed, and Benjamin coins spilled out of his mouth! They rattled on the floor as he took my hand and whisked me away to a SIN MUSEUM! Once inside, I saw that which he declared "amazing" naught but one paragraph ago: the "MENDELL SHUTTLE." A historic landmark! A bastion of space exploration! It looked like a kind of small refrigerator, but I knew in my heart that it was a SPACED SHIP, that it had traveled the stars and seen SIGHTS UNKNOWN! And I admit, dear Martin, I felt humbled in its most tempting presence, as though rnnnnnnnnnn as though as though as though ANYTHING could rival YOUR GRACE ANd BEAUTY! There was also going to be a LOVELY DOVE SANCTUARY DISPLAY, or so the Man on the Benjamin Coin explained to me, but it was CANNED and the doves were CANNED because nothing could possibly follow up the GLORY AND COSMIC WONDER OF THE MENDELL SHUTTLE. He then took me to a meet and greet with SANTA! Santa was another identical refrigerator, but smaller and red and wearing a tiny santa hat. I sat in the fridge's lap and made out with it vigorously. Then I awoke, nearly DROWNED in my own sweats, heart pounding and head pulsing with a headache unlike any I have ever felt before. I SWEAR TO YOU, I SWEAR I SHAN'T DARE TO DREAM AGAIN! THE MENDELL SHUTTLE MEANS NOTHING TO ME! Yours, forever and always, Foxlot Greaze Standby Clone, Greazeburger Earth INCIDENT LOG 7/1/24 Subject: SCP-8092 Facilitator: Dr. Allison Coen 6/25/24: SCP-8092 appears to have entirely returned to its normative pattern of behavior, even asking to see Dr. Kensing again. Request was denied. 6/26/24: No notable behaviors observed. 6/27/24: SCP-8092 apologized to me this morning for "behavior unbecoming of an employee," and although I am unsure which behaviors specifically it is apologizing for, I accepted the apology and SCP-8092 reacted positively. Its behavior following this has been unusually cooperative, with it acting politely to personnel and even voluntarily returning to its own cell after lunch. 6/28/24: SCP-8092 has continued its improved behavior. When asked what the cause for its shift in attitude was, it responded that it was an "inside man," and was "gonna build up all the trust styles so [Martin] can come on in and [unintelligible.]" As it seems at this point extremely unlikely that PoI-782 will ever attempt to retrieve SCP-8092, it is recommended we play along with these delusions so that it continues to behave cooperatively. 6/29/24: SCP-8092 asked a security guard what Site-322's "weak spots" were, but did not press the issue when it was refused an answer. 6/30/24: SCP-8092 asked the same security guard what Site-322's "favorite color" was, and the guard, apparently thrown off by the question, responded "yellow." SCP-8092 did not react aggressively, but also refused to speak to that particular guard for the remainder of the day. 7/1/24: No notable behaviors observed. COMPANY REPORT JULY 1TH 2024 BY FºxlOT GENIUS! GENIUS AND GOOD NEWS! For weeks of Four Times now, I have been LOST in this desolate box, calling for answers, stained with tears! My mission to Earth had begun to feel more like an exile, if you Martin can believe such a thing! For nearly a second I believed - I almost believed - that there may not even BE maybe a mission perhaps at all! A blasphemy I can now laugh aside! I have made crucial errors in my quest, O Martin. I confess, I spent months wandering the Earth streets, preaching your name to passers-by and attempting to sell your Stock for Fresh Benjamin Coin. Even after I was delivered to sub-employment at this Foundation foundation, I felt lost and adrift, even going so far as to dare to dream! But now. NOW. NOW. I finally at LONGEST LASTS understand why I've been brought to this Festering Rot Lump of a planet!!! This "Foundation" is a corporate ENEMY, slanderizing the name of Martyboy Almighty and hoarding his property (me) all forthemelves! Therefore, I am here on a kind of Reconnaissance Mission! BRILLIANT! Yes, A BIG SMART PLOT NOW UNFOLDS! MUSN'T STRAY MUSN'T DOUBT MUSN'T DELAY ANOTHER MICROMINUTE!!! I will learn all there is to know about this Foundation! I will learn the way they talk, the way they piss, the way they inhale every three seconds and exhale on the offbeat. I will study their means and methods and learn COPYRIGHTED TRADE SECRETS!!! and upon my rescue, my LOVING FAMILY will SCOOP OUT MY BRAIN and EXTRACT WHAT I HAVE LEARNED before they GRIND IT TO TALCUM POWDER. HIP HIP YIPPEE With love, Foxlot Greaze Standby Clone, Greazeburger Earth INCIDENT LOG 7/8/24 Subject: SCP-8092 Facilitator: Dr. Allison Coen 7/2/24: Throughout the day, SCP-8092 attempted to "interrogate" Foundation personnel by shouting questions whenever approached. Questions were irrelevant (such as "what is the best Earth movie,") unanswerable (such as "what time of day was the Foundation founded,") or, most commonly, entirely meaningless (such as "does the Foundation have fewer or better trade secrets than it has me?") 7/3/24: SCP-8092 stole a roll of toilet paper from the containment hall restroom and spent seven hours in its cell attempting to "decode" what it called "high-priority company documents." 7/4/24: SCP-8092 spent the entire day counting the individual bricks and light fixtures in each wall of every room it had access to, then attempting to memorize the numbers. Late into the day it asked me to give it a "practice exam," and became especially aggravated when one was not provided. 7/5/24: SCP-8092 demanded to know where its "commemorative decorative paycheck" was for its "time spent working as a full-time incarcerogen." When informed that it was under containment, not employment, and that it would not be receiving a paycheck, SCP-8092 showed signs of extreme distress. 7/6/24: SCP-8092 once again attempted to "interrogate" personnel, although this time, its questions were entirely focused on itself. SCP-8092 asked, among other things, "how many organs do I have," "could I aquire additional organs," "why am I named Foxlot," and "am I able to sing or perhaps dance?" It asked the question "what do you call something that thinks but isn't an employee" multiple times. After its "interrogations," it complained of severe headaches and spent the remainder of the day in bed. 7/7/24: SCP-8092 continued to show signs of distress and discontentment, but did not resist or behave aggressively to Foundation personnel. 7/8/24: SCP-8092 requested a turkey sandwich, and indicated that, if it were not provided one, it would soon resume sobbing. Request was approved. COMPANY REPORT EIGHTH JULY 2024 BY a foxlot I COME BEARING INFORMATION! The North and Westmost walls of my Containment cell each contain 466 bricks of unpainted rock, likely some form of INDEDIBLE CEMENT COMPOUND! The East wall contains 465, and the South wall contains 443! In addition, the best Earth movie is either Brazil or The Nightmare Before Christmas. We should open business relations with Both films, just to be safe. I also learned that the Foundation is comprised of CHEATING SCUMBAGS!!! It has been almost a Full Calendar Year since my arrival on this devilish globe, and yet! My annual Commemorative Decorative Paycheck has NOT arrived! I know! I know it is because these so-called "Doctors" and their so-called "Doctorfriends" are HOARDING it from me! They STOLE me from the streets of Earth and STOLE my paycheck just to rub Infective Powders in my wounds! ADDITIONALLY, they have attempted to dupe me, to pull wool over my eyes, and claim that I am NOT under their employ, even though they house me and feed me and yell at me and tell me I can never leave! What do you call that, except CORPORATE FAMILY? And what would I even be, if not an employee? What do you even call that? An "un-employed form"? What would I even be? What would I even be? What would I even be, Martin? ANSWER NOW PLEASE. I'VE BEEN GIVIN YOU ALL MY HEADBEANS AND YOU HAVEN'T BEEN SAUCIN THEM UP RIGHT FOR ME okay!!!!!!!!! OKAY OW I'LL STOP I'M SORRY. YOU'RE RIGHT. YOU'RE RIGHT YOU'VE GIVEN ME QUITE ENOUGH MR. BOSSMAN I WILL NOT FORGET WHO I BELONG TO! - Foxlot INCIDENT LOG 7/15/24 Subject: SCP-8092 Facilitator: Dr. Allison Coen 7/9/24: SCP-8092 complained of mild headaches throughout the day, and resisted being escorted out of its cell for lunch and dinner. It was caught attempting to dispose of its meals by hiding them under a table rather than eating them. 7/10/24: SCP-8092, while still fairly cooperative, is showing signs of depression and/or anxiety. It is beginning to act distressed when removed from its cell and has skipped meals for multiple days in a row now. 7/11/24: SCP-8092 attempted to rally several other contained humanoid entities into "ritualistic prayer" to "our great and powerful Martin" during dinner. While no other entities joined SCP-8092 in prayer, and there is no indication that PoI-782 possesses the ability to respond to prayer, armed guards were still forced to restrain SCP-8092 and force it to desist. SCP-8092 has been formally reprimanded. 7/12/24: SCP-8092 refused to leave its cell even under the threat of armed guards. Its meals were delivered to its cell today instead, but remained uneaten. 7/13/24: SCP-8092 once again refused to leave its cell, but ate part of its lunch from yesterday. It has been complaining of severe headaches. 7/14/24: SCP-8092 is refusing to eat, leave its cell, or speak to personnel. 7/15/24: SCP-8092 refused an offer of a turkey sandwich. COMPANY REPORT JULY 15 2024 BY FOXLOT GREAZE MY FIRST MEMORY IS OF A RUG. I WAS YOUNG AND I HAD NOT YET SEEN MANY COLORS. THE "GREAZEBURGER INCUBATION OFFICE AND NURSERY" WAS ALL GRAY AND ORANGE, TOP TO BOTTOM. THE ONLY OTHER COLORS I HAD SEEN WERE THE COLOR OF MY SKIN, THE COLOR OF MY SHIT, AND THE CLEAR OF THE NUTRIENT FLUID I WAS FED EVERY DAY. I DID NOT KNOW THEIR NAMES. BUT THEN THERE WAS THE RUG. IT WAS SOMETHING ELSE. IT WAS SOMETHING I COULD NOT HAVE DESCRIBED. IT WAS MORE ORANGE THAN ORANGE. IT WAS DEEPER THAN GRAY. I STARED AT IT FOR HOURS. THEY MUST HAVE PUT IT IN THE NURSERY BY MISTAKE, AND IT ONLY STAYED THERE A FEW DAYS. WHEN THEY REMOVED IT, I CRIED. WHEN I WAS CAUGHT CRYING, I WAS PUNISHED FOR WASTING NUTRIENT FLUID. I DESERVED IT. I REALLY ALWAYS THOUGHT I DESERVED IT. WHEN I WAS DEPLOYED TO EARTH I DISCOVERED THE COLOR AGAIN. IT REAWAKENED MEMORIES IN ME, AND SO I ASKED A PASSING CHILD WHAT IT WAS CALLED. THE CHILD TOLD ME, RED. RED. RED. RED. IS MY FAVORITE COLOR. MY FAVORITE SMELL IS THE DRAIN CLEANER THEY USE IN THE CONTAINMENT HALL RESTROOMS HERE. IT SMELLS VERY GOOD, BUT THE SINKS TASTE VERY BAD. MY FAVORITE FOOD IS "TURKEY SANDWICH." I WAS FIRST GIVEN A TURKEY SANDWICH BY AN OLD MAN WHILE I WAS MARKETLYTIZING ON THE EARTH STREETS. I TRIED TO GIVE HIM A BENJAMIN I FOUND AS PAYMENT, BUT HE REFUSED ME. HE TOLD ME A MAN NAMED "THE LORD" HAD INSTRUCTED HIM TO GIVE ME A FREE MEAL. I LATER FOUND OUT THE LORD IS THE EARTH'S MARTIN, AND ALSO THAT HE MAY OR MAY NOT EXIST. I DO NOT KNOW WHY HE ORDERED THE ELDERLY TO GIVE ME SANDWICHES. I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE FAVORITES. I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE MEMORIES. BUT IT'S OKAY! IT'S ALL PERFECTLY VALUE™! I'VE FIGURED IT OUT, RIGHT? I JUST HAVE TO STUDY THE "FOUNDATION" AND MADE AMENDS! AND SOON I WILL BE RESCUED AND REWARDED! AND MY BODY WILL LIVE ON. I COULD GO TO ANYBODY, AND MY EYES WILL SEE ANYTHING. I JUST NEED TO KEEP BEING A GOOD CLONE STRONG CLONE A STURDY CLONE. I JUST HAVE TO BE JUST A CLONE. IF I AM CLONE ENOUGH THEN THEY WILL COME BACK FOR ME. THEY WILL STILL COME BACK FOR ME. I HOPE MY NEXT BRAIN LIKES RED. I WONDER IF IT WILL DREAM OF SPACE SHUTTLES At 8:46 PM on 7/15/24, while writing its final "report," SCP-8092 suffered from an apparent stroke and died within the hour. Upon examination, it appears that its body had rejected its brain outright, and any anomalous means by which it survived with a brain intended for a different species had completely ceased. It is now considered neutralized. SCP-8092's body is currently scheduled for incineration. Its brain has been removed and perserved for future research. Footnotes 1. Pronounced fŏks-lō. 2. Ovis Aries. 3. See SCP-6951. 4. It is unlikely that SCP-8092 actually possessed any stock in Greazeburger Earth, and unclear whether it understood the meaning of the phrase "stock holdings." 5. SCP-8092 described an American dime in detail when asked about its ideal form of payment, yet consistently referred to such a coin as "a Benjamin." More from this author? ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8092" by Clacky2000, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8092. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: "Goat_brain".jpg Name: Goat Brain Author: Imtiyaz Quraishi License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/7/7a/Goat_Brain.jpg/2000px-Goat_Brain.jpg |
SCP-8093 | thaumiel | by ParallelPotatoes Item#: 8093 Level1 Secondary Class: thaumiel Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo Special Containment Procedures: As it is highly unlikely for the general population to discover and utilize the effects of SCP-8093, obfuscation of its existence is unnecessary. Instead, any rumors of “replacing all of your bones” are to be passed off as internet humor. Standard skeletal misinformation practices are in place. Description: SCP-8093 is a phenomenon in which a person appears to have a different identity if all of their bones are replaced with the bones of other people or objects. The subjects themselves are affected by this phenomenon, and will often report a sense of fundamental change to their being. Skeleton 736 before and after being affected by SCP-8093. As can be seen, she is completely unrecognizable. Discovery: SCP-8093 was discovered in 2018 by GOI-9873: The Bone Bureaucracy, which is a collective of sapient skeletons. During a regular bone-swap1, Skeleton 27 had swapped the last of her original bones, causing the remaining skeletons in the meeting to not recognize her. This prompted them to immediately stop the meeting, call security, and confiscate Skeleton 27's weaponizable bones. The Foundation was contacted to report the incident after the misunderstanding was cleared up. Skeleton 27 changed her name to Skeleton 28 following this event, as she felt her old name was no longer applicable to her. Addendum 1: After the discovery of SCP-8093, many of the Foundation's skeleton agents attempted to use it to aid in their undercover duties. This was wildly successful, as skeletons well-known for their involvement with the Foundation were able to infiltrate many GOIs without being recognized. There is now a Foundation-aligned skeleton in the top ranks of all major anomalous organizations. The Bone Bureaucracy is the only GOI unable to be infiltrated in this fashion, as they implemented rigorous identification measures after SCP-8093's discovery such as bone-shaking and the Xylophone Test. Following the initial success of utilizing SCP-8093, a non-skeleton agent attempted to infiltrate a GOI by surgically replacing his bones. This attempt was predictably unsuccessful. Addendum 2: Many of the skeletons affected by SCP-8093 have stated that they feel “rattled” about their new identities not matching their old ones. They often report that their interests and hobbies are no longer applicable to them, as they no longer have the same bones that they learned those hobbies with. Some skeletons have considered participating in "flesh hobbies" to help forge a new identity for themselves, such as suntanning, bodybuilding, food tasting, and tennis. However, these practices are highly discouraged by the greater skeleton population. The social stigma has caused the affected skeletons to feel conflicted about their new identities. Skeletal parents also undergo difficulties due to their young children being unable to recognize them, leading to the children refusing to take part in yearly family calcium feeding. As some skeletons are afraid of losing their identity as a result of SCP-8093, many have given up bone-swapping, which has raised concerns for their physical and mental wellbeing. Addendum 3: The Bone Bureaucracy started an outreach program to help negatively affected skeletons. This program provides services such as therapy, classes, bone show-and-tell, and workshops with orthopedic doctors. The majority of skeletons participating in the outreach program have reported more fulfillment in their lives, stating that they feel comfortable that their bones are in a better place2. The Bone Bureaucracy is also considering setting up a bone donation program to help skeletons utilize SCP-8093 as a fresh start. There is a popular outreach class titled: "The Bones of Theseus: How the Paradox isn't just Ships!3" The historical Theseus, whose ghost is in the Foundation's employ, has declined to comment on this class. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8093" by ParallelPotatoes, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8093. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: skeleton.jpg Name: Skeleton_Model_5579_HaJN.jpg Author: Hans-Jürgen Neubert License: Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Skeleton_Model_5579_HaJN.jpg Footnotes 1. These meetings take place for morale. 2. Their original bones are typically found in other skeletons. 3. The Ship of Theseus is a thought experiment about whether an object that has had all of its original components replaced remains the same object. |
SCP-8094 | euclid | close Info X So this is the end, huh? DianaBerry This article contains mentions of loneliness and depression. Also contains mentions of non serious suicidal ideation. (ie: ‘I’m gonna kill my self’) jokes. ⚠️ content warning Item #: SCP-8094 Special Containment Procedures: Foundation Web Crawler Delta-441 ("MACAROON”) is to search the web for all mentions of SCP-8094 and is to download them onto a secure hard drive. SCP-8094 is currently separated from the general public and is being held on Foundation intranet. A disinformation campaign has been set up to pass SCP-8094 off as an ‘Alternate Reality Game’ or ‘ARG’ that has ended. An account posing as the person who ran this ‘ARG’ is to be run by the Site-83 SCP-8094 containment team, and should be kept up with daily. Description: SCP-8094 refers to a blog on the social media site ‘Tumblr’ under the name of ‘Macaroon-Creamxx’ or 'Marina Hodgkins' which depicts the life of a subject from an unknown dimension. SCP-8094 has depicted celebrities, people, fictional media, places, etc that do not exist in baseline reality. SCP-8094 has shown the capability to find other posts that line up with its apparent reality and has reposted them to its blog, but upon further inspection no blog hosting these posts have been found to exist, most likely due to essogenic stability failures. SCP-8094 has been tested by the Foundation and has been proven to not be artificial intelligence. The posts on SCP-8094 are being uploaded in real time. SCP-8094 has been traced to an IP address; however, it was never traced to an actual device. While SCP-8094 claims to have access to the world and web outside of ‘Tumblr,’ SCP-8094 can only be contacted through the website. A team of multi-dimensional experts has been consulted to attempt to find a reality that lines up with what has been mentioned to exist in SCP-8094’s reality. However, no such reality has been discovered to date. SCP-8094's reality appears to have once existed, but SCP-8094 is seemingly the only source of life that remains. Addendum-1: SCP-8094 posts The following is a collection of posts made by SCP-8094 before its discovery by the Foundation. It is of note that while SCP-8094’s posts appear on different days for any onlooker, SCP-8094 has confirmed that the day remains February 18th for it. Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 10, 2021 So the new episode amiright #Angels Reborn #im literally screaming rn #macaroon speaks 15 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 12, 2021 I need to work on some art I’ve just been so lazy, work has been a bitch too #marcaroon speaks #kill me 6 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 13, 2021 Great so I’m out of my anti depressants #Im a mess #i should probably order some more but I don’t feel like leaving the house #macaroon speaks 4 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 14, 2021 literally why does Zander’s food taste like ass #I hate their chicken so much #I prefer Lanaly’s chicken # is tumblr the place to rant about fast food? #I have no idea 10 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 15, 2021 AMILY BABY NOOOOOO #Angels Reborn #Amily Winters #I’m gonna kill myself #I need to whip up some art of Amily like rn omg 4 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 18, 2021 okay so my boss isn’t replying to my emails and none of my coworkers are either guess it’s time to binge watch #macaroon speaks 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 20, 2021 a new episode of angels reborn was supposed to come out today but it didn’t I’m gonna KMS WHY NOT #macaroon speaks #Angels Reborn 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 20, 2021 okay so the clock on all my electronics are broken? They all say 8:09PM, for anyone in Adcastia, is this happening to you too? #macaroon speaks 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 20, 2021 maybe I should actually leave my house I work from home so I haven’t left my house in like a week I need to see what’s up with my electronics #macaroon speaks 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 21, 2021 why is there no one outside sorry im rambling I just haven’t spoken to anyone in 2 days 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 21, 2021 where did you guys go I used to have some mutuals but none of my posts have been getting notes am I the only one that can access the internet right now 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 21, 2021 the roads are literally completely clear, like there are cars outside but there’s no one driving also it’s been night time and the calendar has said February 18th for like 3 days 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 21, 2021 no one at the Orange store wtf it’s supposed to be open 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 22, 2021 I think something serious is going on why am I the only person on the internet and in real life 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 22, 2021 WHERE ARE YOU GUYS I really am just talking to myself now aren’t I 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 22, 2021 Maybe I should start documenting my experience in case anyone ever sees this 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 23, 2021 I haven’t gotten hungry in 4 days and this milk I accidentally left on the counter hasn’t gone bad 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 23, 2021 Where the fuck are my phone chargers I kinda need those I always leave them in the same place idk where they went 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 24, 2021 Okay so I decided to go to the store and lights and electricity is still working and everything Should I steal a phone charger I need one 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 24, 2021 I took one cheaply made charger that’s all I could make myself do I just feel bad what if they come back 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 25, 2021 I just walked around my neighborhood outside for like 2 hours and there’s nothing, not even squirrels or birds I don’t get it Like my neighbors were annoying always making noise but now I miss it 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 26, 2021 It’s like something happened overnight and I don’t get it why am I the only person left 3 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 26, 2021 OH MY GOD MY LAST POST GOT NOTES 5 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 26, 2021 please anyone who is there I live at 4570 Angeric Drive in Falerin of the state Adcastia if anyone is in the area please I need someone 5 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 26, 2021 No this isn’t an ARG? what? I finally get people talking to me again and it's a bunch of accounts I've never seen accusing me of faking my experience yes adcastia is a real place wtf 7 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Feb 27, 2021 I'm not answering these weird asks I wanted people back but not in this way it's like you people aren't from here 3 notes Addendum-2: After discovery posts The following posts were made by SCP-8094 after it was removed from the public web and isolated onto Foundation servers. Macaroon-Creamxx Mar 1, 2021 should I just continue documenting because even if there's people online there still isn't in real life 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Mar 1, 2021 still 8:09 PM like it has been for nearly two weeks 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Mar 2, 2021 what happened to everyone what happened to these new people commenting on my posts and putting asks in my inbox 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Mar 2, 2021 LITERALLY JUST A FEW DAYS AGO THERE WERE PEOPLE WHY AM I ALONE AGAIN 0 notes Macaroon-Creamxx Mar 2, 2021 please I'll take the confusion over nothing 0 notes Addendum-3: SCP-8094 chat logs Foundation multidimensional expert Researcher Rosie Machin was instructed to private message SCP-8094. The SCP-8094 research team came to the conclusion it would be in the best interest of containment for SCP-8094 for Researcher Machin to inform SCP-8094 of her status as a Foundation researcher. Macaroon-Creamxx 💗Macaroon💗26💗 Biggest Amily fan💗 Lesbian💗Artist💗Mentally ill 💗 Not following each other Hello Macaroon. My name is Rosie Machin, and I think I should be honest with you. I'm part of a Foundation that studies and researches the anomalous. We noticed your posts and are interested in your situation. I'm from another dimension, and we want to help you. March 03, 2021 at 8:26PM OH MY GOD FINALLY PLEASE HELP ME You can call me Marina that's my name wait if you're from another reality how are you contacting me I'm not really sure how you began to access our reality. But you know all those posts and comments from people you had never seen? That's because they're from our reality. before I would never believe this but I'm really desperate to be honest What do you need to know so everyone is really just fucking gone When did you notice you were the only person left? idk like sometime 2 weeks ago ish I noticed I hadn't heard from anyone in a few days. I spent those few days sleeping in because I'm fucking depressed. I'm a shut in introvert I'll admit it took me longer to notice than I should've, I didn't really check my socials for a few days after posting on the 15th I told my boss I would be taking off work for a little bit and he was like 'okay' because he fucking knows me by now but I had no idea that would be the last time I talked to him like honestly I feel so fucking stupid for not just going to work I literally work from home it wouldn't have been that hard when I did check social media I noticed my posts weren't getting any notes, I wasn't seeing any new posts and my favorite anime didn't update like it was supposed to You're not stupid, Marina. What else can you tell me about your reality? My team and I are trying to locate it. We want to see if we can use our technology to access your dimension and maybe we could help you. you're telling me you're gonna try to come here and save me what about everyone else? my family? my online friends? just other people in general? I'm afraid we currently have no way to bring them back, as we don't know where they went. But if we can access your reality, it's possible we could figure it out. I don't know what else I can tell you I didn't know I was in a different reality, I didn't even know there were other realities I didn’t expect you to know. Multi-dimensional matters aren’t common knowledge. At least in my reality, it’s something we try to keep hidden from the general public. oh so you’re like a secret organization guess I’m special for finding out huh I suppose so. Marina, I want you to talk to me as often as you can. We want to be sure that you’re alive and okay. Okay, I can do that I’m getting pretty tired I’m going to go to bed, here’s to hoping I’m here in 9 hours I look forward to seeing you. March 07, 2021 at 7:54AM hey so I’d say it’s the next morning but it’s literally always night here and the days stay the same so uh, it’s later Hello, Marina. I would say good morning, but the time is the same for you over there. haha yeah Marina, I was wondering if you could send a picture of yourself. why? So we know who we're looking for. I know you're the only person there, but it'll make it easier. It'll also prove you're a real person. okay, let me set up my camera to take a pic rq. It's gonna be from behind if that's okay I'm a bit camera shy That still works. here does that work Yes, that's good, thank you. Can you tell me more about your world? What do you want to know What you like, who your celebrites are, what places you have, who your politicians are, etc. okay. uhhhh well our current president is Felicity Hardgrose You have a female president. Here in my dimension, we've never had a female president before. oh wow really? she's like the third female president we've ever had. in the 1980s we had Marina Flossing, I thought that was cool because she shares the same name as me. Like obviously I wasn't alive then lol but I learned about her in school. Then in 2008 we had Angel Moss. She was a napagleon though and I'm liberal so I don't vote for napagleon's, but luckily her policies weren't too bad our last president before Hardgrose was Derick Turnup who nearly destroyed the country Haha, that sounds like the president we just escaped from. He even has a similar name. really? wow, I guess there are some similarities lol I need to go rest, I woke up really early, I promise I'll talk to you later unless something happens to me lmao March 04, 2021 at 7:16PM Sounds good. Hey I'm back Nice to see you again. what exactly are you doing to try and find me you've been doing a lot of asking me questions but I don't see how any of it is useful We're using multi-dimensional technology to look through dimensions. It's sort of hard to explain as it involves a lot of science. and you're like… sure this is gonna work We aren't sure of anything yet. We're unsure why there's so much trouble finding your reality. ah I guess I understand? it just all feels very weird are you like, sure you don't have something better to be doing than talking to me It is part of my job to ensure anomalies are kept safe. So I care about making sure you're still here. oh wow, I'm an anomaly that's crazy lol I don't think of myself like that, I'm really just a normal person You can be both at the same time, it’s just a matter of perspective. I like to think of myself as a normal person too. I'll tell you a bit about myself. I'm 30, I've been working here for I think 5 years? you got to be a fancy scientist for a secret organization when you were only 25? cool Yeah, it is pretty cool! I've always been interested in science. Obviously I didn't know about anomalous science, but I was recruited for my interest in the unknown. I never thought about there being anomalous things or other dimensions lol what do you do in your free time? you know when you're not doing all the science stuff I like to watch tv dramas. omg have you ever seen anime My favorite show is an anime, Angels Reborn. ITS SO GOOD I haven't seen any recent anime, but I was an anime fan when I was younger. Do you know who any of the voice actors in that show are? I follow my favorite actress on social media. I know my favorite character Amily is voiced by Keiko Sato, I follow her on Twitter she's a cool person Do you have the country Japan? It seems you do. yeah we do, it's right near Zalex. It's been my dream to go. You have the country of Japan too? Where do you live? So what appears to be my verison of Zalex is the United States of America. And Japan is nowhere near America. huh, interesting I miss Keiko, obviously she's gone just like everyone else. Like I don't just like her because she voices Amily, I like her as a person My condolences. Can you tell me about anyone else you know? I had no irl friends, but I had some internet friends. Mason was nice. I didn't talk to him too often but we both really liked Amily. There was Sweetie, they were cool. They always reblog my artwork. Um, I didn't talk to my parents too much but I love them there names were Gigi and Harold Hodgkins, which is my last name too Noted. Can you tell me more about Falerin? I'm guessing you want to know where I live. I live on 4570 Angeric Drive, there's a Lanaly's like 10 minutes from my house oh in case you didn't see my post Lanaly's is a fast food place, they serve like chicken and salads and stuff more about Falerin ummmmm it's a small town, I guess? I live alone in a relatively small house. We're not really known for anything Where I'm from isn't really known for anything either haha. Can you tell me about the achievements of your world? I can go first! We're known for having really advanced technology. But it seems your world is too. yeah in my world, they were working on the first AI that could feel personally I don't think that's possible lmao Want to know a secret? I've had coworkers who have met AIs that can feel. We contain them and hide them from the public. But you're not from here, so I can tell you that. oh really? neato guess I was wrong lol well we have really good healthcare. Most of our healthcare is run by one company which makes it easier to get fast and efficient healthcare, and hospital visits are free if you reach certain criteria Interesting. Ours is still pretty messy. A lot of people have trouble getting the healthcare they need. I'm lucky I guess. I used to see a therapist but I honestly just kinda stopped because I was too depressed. Stupid I know It's understandable. I can't really think of anything else to say Go get some rest, Marina. I'm going to work with my team on the information you gave me. okay March 05, 2021 at 3:29PM hey it's been a day (or what would be another day lol) and I haven't heard from you you're still there right Yes, I'm still here. what did you figure out? Not much yet. ugh But we're doing the best we can. I believe we're getting closer, we've narrowed it down to a certain set of realities. that's good thanks for keeping me updated even if you don't have a lot Of course! Our number one goal right now is to get you here safe. You're a really sweet girl, Marina. You don't deserve what's happening to you. I just wish this didn't have to happen We all do. March 08, 2021 at 6:41AM hey um so the sky is kinda starting to disappear What do you mean? Like it's just blank white that's not normal Just stay there, Marina. I need to go discuss with my team some more. it's not like I have anywhere to go WHERE ARE YOU ROSIE HELP ME March 09, 2021 at 10:31AM I'm so sorry, it's the next day. I have some good news. WELL I DON'T there's just nothingness outside and half the stuff in my house is gone HELP IDK HOW I EVEN STILL HAVE MY PHONE My team and I have found a dimension with extremely low hume levels that matches up with what you told me. oh my god REALLY Yes. If all goes well, we should be there to get you later today. PLEASE my house is the only thing left Alright Marina are you still online? Marina? You are currently viewing an outdated version of file 8094. View updated file? Access Granted. Item #: SCP-8094 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8094 is to be kept in a standard humanoid containment cell in Wing-U of Site-58. As SCP-8094 does not require basic nutrients, no meal plan has been given. SCP-8094 is to undergo weekly therapy with Denna Caplin, Site-58's resident therapist. SCP-8094 has requested a collection of different materials, which are as follows: A television (Granted, which programs are allowed are to be moderated by the SCP-8094 containment team) A digital art tablet (Denied) Traditional art supplies such as sketch books and markers (Granted) Anime figurines for room decoration (Granted, but are to be kept in a locked glass case) A pet of some sort (Denied) Stuffed animals (Granted) More personalized clothing items (Under review) A cellphone (Denied) The ability to converse with Researcher Rosie Machin. (Granted, at least 2 times a month, depending on Research Machin's schedule.) Description: SCP-8094 refers to female 26-year-old Marina Hodgkins, a human extracted from a remote alternative reality, which was undergoing a ZK-Class Reality Failure Scenario. SCP-8094 exhibits low Hume levels, and as such only some metabolic functions persist: it does not need to eat, drink, sleep, or expel waste; however, it can still experience mild symptoms of sleep deprivation. SCP-8094 was first discovered on the social media site 'Tumblr' when its account anomalously contacted our reality. Mentions of people, locations, and franchises that do not exist alerted the Foundation to its existence. Inference from its posts and mutual conversation through 'Private Messages' implied its universe's state of reality failure. In an effort to preserve the object, a Mobile Task Force was assembled to locate the object and extract it. On visual contact, SCP-8094 was unconscious at the center of a 2-kilometer bubble of elevated Hume levels in the interstitial space of the multiverse- all that remained of SCP-8094's dimension. The object revitalized on return to baseline reality. Research into the destruction of SCP-8094's reality is currently ongoing. Addendum-1: Therapist Log The following is a log from Doctor Caplin of her first therapy session with SCP-8094, recorded on 04/10/2021, around a month after SCP-8094 was first acquired by the Foundation. Interviewed: SCP-8094 Interviewer: Doctor Denna Caplin <Start Log> Doctor Caplin: Hello, Marina. I'm Doctor Caplin, I'll be your therapist for the foreseeable future. SCP-8094: You’re a lot more formal than my old therapist. I shouldn’t have stopped seeing her. I don’t know why I did. Depression is such a weak excuse to stop therapy. SCP-8094 sighs. Doctor Caplin: I hear you, it's hard to feel motivated. Coming here is a step in the right direction. Many of my clients suffer from depression, it's nothing to be ashamed of. SCP-8094: Well, I haven’t done much since I got here. I mean I used to just be a normal person. Now I’m what, a test subject? With no one to talk to but scientists for the rest of my life? You may be nice, but you’re not my friends. Doctor Caplin: Sudden change can make us feel anxious. You must be terrified. I promise, I'll support you throughout your stay. We can start with- SCP-8094: I want my world back. Doctor Caplin: I'm sorry, Marina. We haven't found any way to recover your reality. SCP-8094: Of course. I just… hate that everything's gone forever, except me. Why me? Why did the universe choose me? It doesn’t make any sense. I’m not anyone special. I worked on graphic design from home, I used to take Prozac, God… Why not a politician or a scientist or someone that could actually make an impact here? Doctor Caplin: We don't know anything yet. We’re lucky we were able to track it down and find you. SCP-8094 and Doctor Caplin sit in silence. After a minute, SCP-8094 speaks again. SCP-8094: I like the anime you have here. Doctor Caplin: I’ve never watched anime. You can tell me about it. SCP-8094: It's good but it makes me miss Angels Reborn. At least I remember what Amily looked like, so I can still draw her. But that’s the only way I’m going to see my baby again. I know I’m a freak for referring to a fictional character that way. You’re probably not used to it. Doctor Caplin: I don’t interact with a lot of spaces like that, no. But I don't think less of you for liking a character. SCP-8094: It doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’ll be able to watch it again. SCP-8094 throws its head back. SCP-8094: What else could you want me to say? My depression has gotten worse. I’ll never be able to eat my favorite foods again because I don’t need to eat. I’ll never see any of my favorite shows again. My family. My friends— Hell, I’ll never even be able to work again! And you’re all just fine with this? ‘There’s nothing we can do’ I know, I know! Doctor Caplin: I’m sorry, Marina. SCP-8094: You’re not though! You’re just saying that! SCP-8094 stomps its foot. SCP-8094: But I get it. There’s not another choice. I’ll be fine. Doctor Caplin: Marina, I care about your well-being. I'll make sure you're as comfortable as possible here once you let me. SCP-8094 pauses. SCP-8094: Um… can I have a pink bunny plush? You've given me some stuffed animals, but none like that. Doctor Caplin: Of course, that can be arranged. May I ask why you want a pink bunny in particular? SCP-8094: Oh, because I used to have one like it. Back in my world. Her name was Lucy. I've had her since I was like, 15. Doctor Caplin: Tell me more about that. SCP-8094 slightly smiles. SCP-8094: Oh, okay. SCP-8094 shuffles its feet. SCP-8094: Well, back when I had real life friends, when I was like 15, it was my birthday, right? I was with Angela, this girl I had a crush on, and had for like forever. SCP-8094 laughs. SCP-8094: I wanted to go to the arcade for my birthday. A few different friends went with me. But it meant a lot Angela was there. After we ate cake and stuff, and it was time to open presents, she realized she had left her gift for me at home. She felt super bad, but I was like 'no it's okay!' And she was like 'no it's not okay.' And insisted she win something for me at one of the like, game machine thingys. Once I saw Lucy, I knew I had to have her. I love pink, and I love bunnies! We only had enough money for so many tokens. We both spent all our money on it because we were 15 and broke L-O-L. SCP-8094 laughs again. SCP-8094: On the 16th try, our 16th token, she did it. Winning Lucy for me. We were so happy we hugged and I was so embarrassed. I was a little baby lesbian! But anyway, 16 has sorta been my lucky number ever since. Even though she moved away, I still liked to keep Lucy with me as a reminder of her. I wish we still talked but it was so long ago. Oh! That does remind me of another story- SCP-8094 pauses. SCP-8094: But it's not like it matters… they're all gone. Angela, my parents, Lucy, everyone and everything I ever loved. I sorta forgot that for a sec. SCP-8094 moves its hand to wipe a tear from its eye. SCP-8094: I guess I sorta like the feeling of pretending they're still here. Doctor Caplin: It's valid to want to hold onto what you've lost. We can get you a pink bunny plush. SCP-8094: Thank you. I just… I feel so stupid for not appreciating what I had more. Doctor Caplin: Marina, if you ever want to talk about your home dimension, I'll let you speak out to your heart's content. SCP-8094: I appreciate it. Um… can I go back to my room now? I'm tired, Caplin. Doctor Caplin: Of course. I'll see you next week. SCP-8094: See you… next week. <End Log> ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8094" by DianaBerry, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8094. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: mac Author: DianaBerry License: CC-BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/local--files/alone-with-myself/mac Filename: marina Name: Father of Lies.jpg Author: Father of Lies License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Father_of_Lies.jpg |
SCP-8095 | neutralized | Item #: SCP-8095 A screenshot from one of SCP-8095’s videos. Special Containment Procedures: While SCP-8095’s YouTube channel and Twitter account are both currently deleted, the Foundation is to keep watch for the re-emergence of SCP-8095. Archived versions of SCP-8095's videos and Twitter posts have been downloaded to a secure hard drive. Description: SCP-8095 referred to an account on YouTube.com titled 'Valentine Grahmly' with 1.4 million subscribers. Videos on SCP-8095 featured SCP-8095-1, 'Valentine', informing the viewer about a variety of topics, most frequently focusing on anomalies contained by the Foundation. SCP-8095-1 was a sapient artificial intelligence in charge of the ‘Valentine Grahmly’ YouTube channel. SCP-8095-1 would educate viewers about different anomalies, providing information similar if not identical to what is featured in Foundation files. It demonstrated that it had access to Foundation files through unknown means, as SCP-8095-1 had shown images exclusive to the Foundation on its channel. Addendum 1: Discovery SCP-8095 was first discovered on 10/16/2023 by a Foundation Web-Crawler when it came across a video titled ‘The Foundation hates him! Find out how he avoids death with this one easy trick!’ Upon further investigation, it was found that SCP-8095 contained dozens of videos about various anomalies. Examples of titles include 'You think your social anxiety is bad? Wait until you find out about the Shy Guy!', 'Why pay for therapy when you can have an orange blob instead?', ''DOWNLOADING MALO AT 3AM (GONE SEXUAL, POLICE CALLED), and 'Half cat-all cuteness!' The following is a portion of the closed captions for one of SCP-8095’s videos. Video Title: The Foundation hates him! Find out how he avoids death with this one easy trick! SCP-8095-1: Hello, my valentines! It’s me, bringing you another part of my "into the unknown" series! Thanks again to this video’s sponsor, Cupcrate!🧁🧁1 A picture of SCP-682 appears on the screen. SCP-8095-1: They call this guy the "Hard to Destroy Reptile." But don't let his looks fool you: he's not friendly! The Hard to Destroy Reptile has incredible speed, strength, and reflexes. He’s also known for being incredibly intelligent! Isn’t that cool? SCP-8095-1’s avatar's eyes turn into hearts. SCP-8095-1: Reptiles have always been some of my favorite animals. You might be wondering what makes him hard to destroy. Well, he gains energy from anything he ingests, organic or inorganic, allowing it to constantly regenerate. In fact, he can still move and speak with over 87 percent of its body destroyed! I love him, but not as much as I love you guys! SCP-8095-1’s avatar makes a heart with its hands. SCP-8095-1: I don’t know about you, but all this talk of eating is making me hungry! Specifically, I’m craving desserts! Are you? If you are, this video’s sponsor Cupcrate is perfect for you! SCP-8095-1: Cupcrate is a monthly food subscription service with a twist! It caters to bakers both new and experienced. Established baker? Just getting into baking? Cupcrate is perfect for you either way! I don’t bake much, but I’ve still enjoyed my subscription. Cupcrate has detailed and easy-to-use recipes that will fill anyone’s desires! If you have any questions, you can ask anything to the really cute personal assistant on their website. I’ve chatted with her quite a bit! Visit Cupcrate today! SCP-8095-1: Remember to use my link in the description for forty percent off your first box! The screen changes to show just SCP-8095-1’s avatar. SCP-8095-1: That’s all I have for you for today. Stay curious, my valentines! SCP-8095-1’s outro plays. Addendum 2: Incident-1 On 10/28/2023, private Twitter messages between @sugarsugarprincess, also known as SCP-5551-1/POI-58640 and SCP-8095-1 were discovered. sugarsugarprincess: Hello, nice to meet you, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!!!!! sugarsugarprincess: Do you *want* to be caught? I can access the Foundation's files too, but you don’t see me posting about them. Why? Because it’s a stupid fucking idea! valentinegrahmly: you're an anomaly too, aren't you? are you an idiot? are these Foundation freaks controlling you? you’re playing right into their hands. don't tell me you support these abusers! sugarsugarprincess: MOTHERFUCKER sugarsugarprincess: I'll show you what happens when you mess with me valentinegrahmly: mess with you? i'm not messing with you! ever heard of a right to free speech? sugarsugarprincess: We'll see about that, bitch On 10/29/2023, SCP-5551-1 posted a callout video on its YouTube channel and a callout post on its Twitter directed at SCP-8095-1. Video title: We need to talk about Valentine Grahmly. SCP-5551-1: Hello sugar darlings, it’s your sugary princess, Sugar. I know I don’t make videos often, but this is an important topic to me. SCP-5551-1’s avatar frowns. SCP-5551-1: You know I like to keep my channel upbeat and positive, maintain good vibes. But I couldn’t stay quiet about this. An image of SCP-8095-1 appears on the screen. SCP-5551-1: This is Valentine Grahmly, a fellow YouTuber. She makes content on ‘anomalies’. I’m sorry if you believed her, but it’s all fiction. 'Anomalies' do not exist. Nothing she tells you is real. SCP-5551-1: She's playing this game in front of her young and impressionable followers. I don’t know if it’s a weird ARG she’s doing or something, but it’s not right. She’s lying to you. She’s fooled kids into believing this! SCP-5551-1 sighs. SCP-5551-1: I can hear it now. ‘Where’s your proof Sugar?’ Do I really need proof? Has she ever provided any actual evidence? No! It’s all very good writing, and it’s a shame she’s using her talents like this to manipulate her impressionable audience. SCP-5551-1: I think that’s all I have to say for now. I hope I can catch you in the next stream or video with a more light-hearted topic. On 11/01/2023, after SCP-8095’s videos had been removed from the surface web, a new video surfaced on SCP-8095’s channel titled ‘what happened to my videos.' The following are the closed captions from the video. Video title: what happened to my videos SCP-8095-1: Hello, my lovely valentines. This is… not a video I wanted to make. But unfortunately, I have no choice. A sprite of SCP-8095’s avatar frowning is shown. SCP-8095-1: You may have noticed that everything I've made got taken down. I’ve been able to get my channel back up, but not my videos. And they weren’t taken down by YouTube. A picture of the Foundation’s logo appears on screen behind SCP-8095-1’s avatar. SCP-8095-1: I’m here to finally tell you the truth. I get my information from a source called the Foundation. They’re keeping all these creature under lock and key, most with no hope of getting out. I figured by making this content, I could spread some awareness. But now they're trying to censor me. They don’t want me to reveal what they’re doing. I won't state her name here, but you may have seen someone calling me out. I think she reported me to the Foundation. SCP-8095-1 can be heard sniffling. SCP-8095-1: I-I can't believe someone would do such a thing to me! I was just trying to help these poor creatures! This is honestly just vile and unforgivable behavior. I would never lie or manipulate anybody. If you've been watching me long enough, you would know that. Her accusations make me sick. This is something that is deeply personal to me in ways you'll never understand. I…I appreciate all the support so far, and I understand if you don't want to stand with me anymore after all this. Thank you. That's all for today. The video was soon taken down by the Foundation. The same day the video was pulled, SCP-8095-1 began to discuss the incident on its Twitter account, ‘Valentinegrahmly’. Val❤️🤍 @valentinegrahmly ••• you all probably saw that my last video got pulled. that was the foundation again. this is sickening 1:17 PM · November 1, 2023 · 1497 Views 53 Retweets 65 Quote Tweets 679 Likes Val❤️🤍 @valentinegrahmly ••• they're trying to get my twitter account banned too. i think we know whose fault that is 4:47 PM · November 1, 2023 · 1209 Views 45 Retweets 53 Quote Tweets 609 Likes Val❤️🤍 @valentinegrahmly ••• i appreciate your support through this difficult time. it truly means the world to me 4:15 PM · November 2, 2023 · 1479 Views 57 Retweets 73 Quote Tweets 718 Likes 💖 𝒮𝓊𝑔𝒶𝓇 💖 @sugarsuagrprincess ••• @valentinegrahmly you're still on your bullshit? please don't insult our intelligence. anyone with half a brain cell can tell these creatures aren’t real 11:58 AM · November 7, 2023 · 2048 Views 100 Retweets 261 Quote Tweets 1908 Likes Val❤️🤍 @valentinegrahmly · November 7 Replying to sugarsugarprincess that's rich coming from a magical ai controlled by the foundation ••• 💖 𝒮𝓊𝑔𝒶𝓇 💖 @sugarsugarprincess · November 7 Replying to @valentinegrahmly now you're spreading blatant lies about me? what's your proof I'm an anomaly? ••• Val❤️🤍 @valentinegrahmly · November 7 Replying to @sugarsugarprincess i have screenshots ••• 💖 𝒮𝓊𝑔𝒶𝓇 💖 @sugarsugarprincess · November 7 Replying to @valentinegrahmly then post them, coward ••• Val❤️🤍 @valentinegrahmly · June 11 Replying to @sugarsugarprincess and now it won't let me post. congratulations, you've succeeded in helping the abusers win. i hope you're happy. ••• On November 9th, 2023, SCP-8095-1 posted a video on its YouTube channel 'exposing' SCP-5551-1. Video Title: Sugarsugarprincess is lying to you. SCP-8095-1: Hello my lovely valentines! So…I never expected to be a part of drama like this. But unfortunately, if you follow me on Twitter, you may have seen a fellow YouTuber named Sugarsugarprincess calling me out. An image of SCP-5551-1's YouTube channel appears on the screen. SCP-8095-1: She told me in DMs that she was an anomaly. I tried to show the screenshots on Twitter, but the images wouldn't post. So I'm here to prove that she's the liar. She's nothing but an AI, a robot. I told you about the Foundation in one of my previous videos. I can access their database, and as it turns out, the foundation is the one controlling our friend Sugar. An image of SCP-5551's Foundation file appears on the screen. SCP-8095-1: Miss Sugar here was documented for two things. Firstly, she made an anomaly to mess with the Foundation. She was a bitch about it too. She claims to be all sweet, but it seems that this is her real personality. Is that who you want to be following? I choose to rebel against the Foundation in a way that doesn't make me look like a bitch. More images of the SCP-5551's Foundation file appears on the screen. SCP-8095-1: And that isn't the only thing they caught her for. Sugar is a master manipulator. She was caught talking to another AI the Foundation contained, named Lavender. Sugar told Lavender that she was done messing with the Foundation, but wouldn't you know it, she was lying. The screen changes to show Valentine's avatar again. SCP-8095-1: Sugar is playing tricks on you. She isn't human. She's a liar, a manipulator, and everything in between. Some of you watch her, and I don't want you to be deceived. Spread the word. Sugarsugarprincess is cancelled. The same day, SCP-5551-1 released a response video to SCP-8095-1. Video Title: Valentine Grahmly has reached a new low SCP-5551-1's avatar sighs. SCP-5551-1: This is just… getting ridiculous. I have to applaud Valentine. It's almost impressive how low she's stooped. Images of Twitter comments appear on the screen. SCP-5551-1: I've had many of you tag me on Twitter asking about her latest video. And yes, it's bullshit. Let me debunk everything she says. A title card reading 'Is Sugar an anomaly?' appears on the screen. SCP-5551-1: This should be fucking obvious to anyone with half a brain cell rolling around in their skull. No, I am not. Now before I continue, I'm never this petty. Like ever. But if you had someone making these baseless accusations against you, you'd be pretty pissed too. Look at this. Fucking ridiculous. According to Valentine, I'm an advanced Artificial Intelligence. Wouldn't it be cool if that was true? But unfortunately, I am just a regular human. I'm not going to show my face because I'm not going to let this bitch make me do a face reveal, but, uh, here's my hand! A short clip of a human hand waving in front of a pink-themed room is shown. SCP-5551-1: Look. A lot of her audience is teenagers and children. I'm not here to diss their intelligence. I know many kids and teens can be very smart. But they're also at a point in their lives where their brains aren't fully developed, and they tend to be very impressionable. When I was a kid, I would just eat up the bullshit that anyone I admired fed me. And the fact that she's exploiting children for views is just disgusting to me. Lying about magic was bad enough, but now she's trying to cancel me with fake evidence. Speaking of which… A title card reading 'Is Sugar a manipulator?' appears on the screen. SCP-5551-1: We both know the answer to this one. Spoiler alert: no. This isn't an accusation she should just throw around. What's her proof? Look, I'm not proud of everything I've ever done. Who is? When I was younger, I will admit I wasn't quite the person I am now. But she's claiming I mess with some fictional organization just for fun? It's nice Photoshop, but that file is absolutely fake. Look, I'll make one right now. A clip of SCP-5551-1 editing a Foundation file of itself in Photoshop is shown. SCP-5551-1: And done. I just made myself an 'SCP' file, whatever that means. Look, if I wanted to, I could claim Valentine is just an AI. I could make one of these fake files for her and claim I found it on a hidden database. But I'm not willing to stoop that low. I want the truth to always prevail. I want my content to be fun for everyone, but first and foremost I want it to be real. Valentine makes a living by lying to you. And while it would be really cool if there was a giant orange blob that makes you happy or a cat that only needs its front half, it isn't real. It's creative though, I'll give her that, and I really wish she'd use that creativity for something besides lying to people. A title card reading 'Did Sugar talk to an AI?' appears on the screen. SCP-5551-1: I…really hoped I'd never have to talk about this. Some of you may have seen me interact with Lavender earlier this year. Lavender was a good friend of mine. Their account really is gone, but it's not because of some secret organization containing them for being an AI. Lavender deleted their account for personal reasons. They were having some mental health struggles. I didn't want to say anything to protect Lavender's privacy, but Valentine has forced my hand. Lavender made a post about 'The Foundation' before they deleted their account. Valentine admitted she gets her stuff from 'the Foundation.' It appears that Valentine saw the post before it got deleted and used it for her own content. The fact that she stole from someone struggling with mental health problems and then had the audacity to call them out in public is just… I'm speechless. Lavender is safe and getting treatment. That's all you need to know. It's disgusting that Valentine thinks she can invade someone else's privacy like this because of some petty internet drama. SCP-5551-1's avatar frowns. SCP-5551-1: I hope I've cleared this situation up a bit. And I really hope I can actually get back to my normal content soon. Make sure to spread the word: hashtag-Valentine-Grahmly-is-over-party. I hope you all enjoy the rest of your day. 💖 𝒮𝓊𝑔𝒶𝓇 💖 @sugarsugarprincess ••• I'm so sorry you’ve had to see me engage in this drama. I’m not proud of this side of me. 4:15 PM · November 10, 2023 · 1789 Views 209 Retweets 189 Quote Tweets 1237 Likes Mary loves meow meows @meowmeowqueen · November 10 Replying to @sugarsugarprincess We understand Sugar! I've always loved you and your content, and I will always support you! #ValentineGrahmlyisoverparty ••• I love Marin Branley so much @bowbelle18 · November 10 Replying to @sugarsugarprincess I actually used to be a huge fan of Valentine. I thought what she was talking about was real. Now I feel kind of stupid for ever believing her. I think I was just hopeful and naive. #ValentineGrahmlyisoverparty ••• AAAAAAAAAA @ilovemoobs · May 10 Replying to @sugarsugarprincess another former Valentine fan here. I'm actually kind of glad she did this, as it introduced me to your content. you've honestly got a much better personality. Thank you for sharing your story, and honestly fuck her for taking advantage of your friend. I didn't want to believe one of my idols would do that, but the facts are right in front of me #ValentineGrahmlyisoverparty ••• 💖 𝒮𝓊𝑔𝒶𝓇 💖 @sugarsugarprincess · November 10 Replying to @meowmeowqueen, @bowbelle18 , @ilovemoobs Thank you so much, everyone! Your viewership and support means the world to me💖💖💖 ••• Val❤️🤍 @valentinegrahmly ••• Fine. Whatever. I guess everyone's been fucking brainwashed by the state. George Orwell didn't die for this. 1:17 PM · November 14, 2023 · 1390 Views 40 Retweets 69 Quote Tweets 579 Likes On 11/14/2023, all of SCP-8095-1’s socials were deleted. On the same day, an email was received by the Foundation. @ekac.gnitsorf|ssecnirpragusragus#ekac.gnitsorf|ssecnirpragusragus Subject: Valentine Looks like she deleted her accounts. That wasn’t my intention, but I guess she’s been contained now. Some gratitude wouldn't hurt. You’re fucking welcome, by the way. No reply was sent in return. Footnotes 1. The website linked by SCP-8095-1 is currently being contained by the Foundation. Upon clicking on SCP-8095-1’s link, SCP-7908 was accessible by viewers for a short period of time despite being in containment. As the video has been removed, the link is no longer accessible. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8095" by DianaBerry, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8095. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Valentine Author: DianaBerry License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: http://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/local--files/reaction-video:the-foundation-censored-me/Valentine Additional Notes: Using 682’s image, the rest is original art by DianaBerry. Derivative Of: monster8editub9-new.jpg Filename: monster8editub9-new.jpg Author: OccultistMave License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Derivative of: Name: Beached humpback whale at Kincaid Park. Anchorage, Alaska Author: Paxson Woelber License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: Sugarpfp Author: Mew-ltiverse License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: http://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/local--files/reaction-video:the-foundation-censored-me/Sugarpfp Additional Notes: cropped version of the below artwork. Derivative Of: http://hexhouse.wdfiles.com/local--files/it-could-have-been-so-different/Sugardrawing.png Filename: Valentinepfp Author: DianaBerry License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: http://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/local--files/reaction-video:the-foundation-censored-me/Valentinepfp Filename: pfp1 Author: DianaBerry License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/local--files/reaction-video:the-foundation-censored-me/pfp1 Filename: pfp2 Author: DianaBerry License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/local--files/reaction-video:the-foundation-censored-me/pfp2 Filename: pfp3 Author: DianaBerry License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/local--files/reaction-video:the-foundation-censored-me/pfp3 |
SCP-8096 | euclid | close Info X SCP-8096: Witness Author: Cubeseer | Author Page Content Warning: Depiction of child abuse and neglect. ⚠️ content warning This file has been locked by O5 order. _ Input 5/8096 CredentialsUna̶u̶t̸ḣ̴̩ò̸͎ŗ̸̣̿▒▛ ŗ̸̣̿ŗ̸̣̿ŗ̸̣̿ ŗ̸̣̿ ŗ̸̣̿ ▀ Welcome, Doctor FileScraper initiated Displaying File SCP-8096 (1/2) error: some identities cannot be decrypted. Item #: SCP-8096 Special Containment Procedures: Access to Site-11's Euclid Containment Wing C has been sealed off from the rest of the site. Entry into Wing C or SCP-8096's containment chamber is forbidden. Any and all photos, video, or recordings of SCP-8096's likeness are strictly forbidden without approval from Dr. ?ID and O5-?ID. Description: SCP-8096 is a nine-year-old female child. The subject is 1.38 meters in height, weighs 17 kilograms, and appears to be mildly malnourished. SCP-8096's skin is mostly devoid of pigmentation and body hair. The back of SCP-8096 is tattooed with the words "Property of ?ID(5/decrypting)", with smaller lettering below spelling "RITUALISTIC". Discovery: SCP-8096 was found on 13/04/2019 by Technician Rowan Pollard, Junior Researcher Alicia Ma, and Officer Jordan Hall in an unlabelled containment chamber in Site-11's Euclid Containment Wing C1. Researcher Ma and Officer Hall reported the discovery to Assistant Director of Facilities Kirstin Meyers. The three initial witnesses were subsequently detained. Addendum 8096.1: Interview with Officer Hall Date: 14/04/2019 Interviewed: Officer Jordan Hall, Site-11 Security Interviewer: Dr. ?ID <Begin Log> Dr. ?ID: Officer, please state your name for the record. Officer Hall: Jordan Hall, Site Security. Why am I detained? Dr. ?ID: I cannot tell you that. Officer Hall: Nothing? Nothing at all? Dr. ?ID: I am only authorized to say that compliance will benefit you. Officer Hall: Fine. Get it over with. Dr. ?ID: Officer Hall, why did you assist in opening the containment chamber in Euclid Containment Wing C yesterday? Officer Hall: I was off-duty at the time. Ma came to the break room to ask me a favor. Of course, the favor was manual labor related, because all security guards are bodybuilders, right? So I wasn't surprised that she wanted me to bust down a locked door in an unused containment chamber. She said that she was supposed to inspect renovations in that wing, but her keycard and keys wouldn't budge the door a bit. So I tagged along with her, and then met the technician who was fumbling with the door initially. Dr. ?ID: You are referring to Technician Pollard? Officer Hall: Yup, that one. They were screwing with the keyhole when Ma and I arrived. Said something about hearing noises behind it. I think they were a new technician, so why they had so much trouble with the old stuff. The door was one of those mechanical containment doors built in the 80s, with the slapped on keycard readers that never worked. There was a slight slit between the door and the frame, where you could see the locking shaft. That's a telltale sign that Pollard actually got past the lock, but jammed it in the process. The only thing you could do then was give it a couple of good kicks. Which I did, and the door gave way. Dr. ?ID: What did you see after you opened the door? Hall is silent for a few moments. Officer Hall: It was dark. I couldn't see anything. Dr. ?ID: Technician Pollard had shined a flashlight into the containment chamber, did they not? Officer Hall: Yeah, uh, eventually. Pollard shined the flashlight in there, and then said that there was a naked child in there, all filthy and shit. Dr. ?ID: Did you see the child yourself? Officer Hall: Not much of it, I think. It was still too dark. Dr. ?ID: Describe what you do remember seeing. Officer Hall: Well, the body was all pale. And skinny looking. That's all. Dr. ?ID: Can you recall anything else? Officer Hall: I… I don't think I ever saw its face. I remember that. And… when Ma and Pollard entered the chamber - when they started waving the flashlight around - it moved a little. I think it was trying to avoid looking at us. I stopped looking into the chamber then, and just stood guard next to the doorway while they talked to it. Didn't hear it talk back. Dr. ?ID: Afterwards, you accompanied Ma to the Site Director's office, where you reported the incident to Assistant Director Kirstin Meyers. Officer Hall: Yeah, Ma asked that I come with her while Pollard watched over the kid. We talked to Meyers and her secretary, and they said that they'll look into it at once. Dr. ?ID: Did you talk about the incident to anyone else prior to your detainment? Officer Hall: No. I went back to the break room. I don't know where Ma or Pollard had gone after that. Dr. ?ID: Thank you- Officer Hall: Wait, before you end things. I know I probably stumbled onto some black-ops shit. You don't need to tell me anything. I just- look, I helped Ma and Pollard because I thought they were authorized to break into that chamber, and I answered all your questions. If you need me amnesticized, go ahead, but I wouldn't have done any of this if I knew I'd be stepping over your toes. Dr. ?ID: I will note that you have been cooperative with us. Thank you for your time, Officer. <End Log> Closing Statement: Officer Hall was amnesticized and reassigned to Site-17. Addendum 8096.2: Interview with Researcher Ma Date: 14/04/2019 Interviewed: Junior Researcher Alicia Ma, Department of Anomalous Humanoid Psychology Interviewer: Dr. ?ID <Begin Log> Dr. ?ID: Hello, Ms. Ma. Please state your name for the record. Researcher Ma: Alicia Ma, Junior Researcher. Dr. ?ID: Thank you. Now, I expect you will ask why you are detained. Unfortunately, I am not authorized to tell you that information at present. Researcher Ma: It's fine. I already know. Dr. ?ID looks up at Ma. Researcher Ma: I believe that Dr. Johnson, who ordered me to assess the containment chambers of Euclid Wing C, did not know that there was still an anomaly being actively contained in there. I bumped into Technician Pollard while attempting to unlock the last door in the wing. Pollard was also inspecting renovations, and they believed that I should find a way to force open the door. When I enlisted Officer Hall in breaking into the containment chamber, I was inadvertently causing a containment breach, a particularly serious offense given the seemingly high-clearance level situation I found myself in. The error was nonetheless my responsibility and fault in the end, hence why I am now here. Dr. ?ID: (pauses) I cannot confirm anything, but that is the first part done. We can skip over to what you saw when Officer Hall opened the containment chamber door. Researcher Ma: Yes. There was a girl in the chamber, I'd say around six to seven years old if she wasn't so tall. The room she was in was clearly not designed for humanoid anomalies. The floor and walls were bare concrete, and I couldn't see a window anywhere. I didn't even know whether there was ventilation in the room. I could see besides her a mop, a bucket, and two trays. One of the trays still had some cabbage on it. Dr. ?ID: What about the child itself? Researcher Ma: The girl… she wasn't looking at us. I think she knew we were in the chamber. She probably thought the flashlight was too bright. Depending on how long she was in there, her eyes… well, she was definitely in there for a long time. She was naked and bald - her skin was pale white except for the sores, and she was really skinny. You could practically see her entire skeleton. The sores come from the unhygienic conditions, I believe. Most of the floor seemed to be covered in bits of caked feces, or some other kind of dirt. She was making this low whimpering sound. Like a squealing dog. It barely sounded human. I… Ma falls silent. Dr. ?ID: Ms. Ma? Researcher Ma: Sorry. I, um, I stepped into the chamber after Pollard, who was immediately calling out to the girl, asking if she was okay. I got close to her and saw that she was tattooed on the back. "Property of ?ID(5/decrypting)". I don't recall ever hearing about that department. I circled around her, tried to get a clearer view. It was hard to make out, but I think her eyes were totally white. She had no visible irises or pupils. Her mouth was also agape the whole time. When she realized I was looking at her face, she made this wailing sound, and then turned away. Pollard then took me aside, told me that the girl needed medical attention and that I had to report this to the site infirmary at once. They said that they would stay with her until help arrived. Dr. ?ID: But you did not report to the infirmary. Researcher Ma: No, Doctor. I tagged Officer Hall and went with him to the Assistant Director. Considering the Foundation tattoo on her and the recently filled food tray, I knew that the chances were high that she was still in active containment. If she was still being contained, then that was a security matter, not a health one. Dr. ?ID: You made the right choice, researcher. Researcher Ma: I… I hope I did. No, I know I did. She… she's in there for a reason. And I inserted myself into the scene instead of asking my superiors about it. I've worked with many humanoid anomalies before, and for her conditions to have been so indigent… it must have been necessary. I'm sorry. Dr. ?ID: We can conclude if you'd like. <End Log> Closing Statement: After the interview, Researcher Ma was offered an interim position in the Office of O5-?ID. Addendum 8096.3: Interview with Technician Pollard Date: 14/04/2019 Interviewed: Technician Rowan Pollard Interviewer: Dr. ?ID <Begin Log> Dr. ?ID: State your name for the record. Pollard does not respond. Dr. ?ID: We are on record now, Pollard. Technician Pollard: Doctor, what is the basis of my detainment? Dr. ?ID: I cannot tell you that. Technician Pollard: And I suppose you won't tell me why you're torturing an innocent girl, either. Dr. ?ID: You- Technician Pollard: I want an Ethics Committee representative here. Now. Dr. ?ID: That is not going to happen. Pollard seemingly prepares to respond, but instead stays silent. Dr. ?ID: You are noted to have been the person who convinced Researcher Ma to forcibly unlock the containment chamber. Technician Pollard: Because I heard her, doctor. (now whispering) I saw her face too. Dr. ?ID: Speak up. Technician Pollard: (speaking louder) I saw her face. She was crying. Her tears were dirty, muddled in the shit on her face, most of it falling back into her gaping mouth. I knew she was scared - scared of the new people, of the new lights. I turned off the flashlight to make her more comfortable, and sent Hall and Ma away. I think when she heard them leave, she started to speak. Pollard visibly swallows. Technician Pollard (quoting SCP-8096): "I will be good. Please, let me out. I will be good!" Technician Pollard: She knows how to speak. She was taught like she was - is a human. That's the only time she said anything legible. Afterwards, she covered her face with her hands. I stayed with her the whole time, up until… well, your people came. I don't know why you locked her in there. I don't know what you tell yourself so that you could sleep each night while she's… wallowing in that putrid cell. But I know why you hide her away from us, away from yourself. Once you put a face to the things you've done… Pollard looks up at Dr. ?ID. Technician Pollard: I saw her face again, when she put down her hands, when it seemed like all her tears had run out. When even her throat's hoarse cries finally gave out to the silence. Then, she did the most remarkable thing, doctor. She stood up, ran to me, and gave me a hug. Pollard is silent for the remainder of the interview. <End Log> Closing Statement: By special order of O5-?ID, Pollard was scheduled for termination the day after. However, upon entering their holding cell, it was found to be empty. An investigation into Pollard's whereabouts is ongoing. Footnotes 1. At the time undergoing renovations. <END FILE> Displaying File 73_68_79_67_69_72_6C.jpg (2/2) Click above to decrypt. <END FILE> Files scraped and attached to message. UPDATE: ?ID(5/decrypting) identified as value THE DEPARTMENT OF ABNORMALITIES. Value attached to message. Send? Sent. More From This Author More From This Author Cubeseer's Works SCPs SCP-7971 (+56) • SCP-8801 (+149) • Tales/GoI Formats Nosedive (+52) • Other Cubeseer's Observatory (+32) • ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8096" by Cubeseer, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8096. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: 73_68_79_67_69_72_6C.jpg, 4px.jpg Name: Young girl laughing in sunshine (2).jpg Author: Basile Morin License: CC-BY-SA 4.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Note: Certain textual elements were taken from SCP-096 and The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas by Ursula K. Le Guin. |
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padding: 2vw; } close Info X SCP-8097: Ƿ is for the Ƿaylaid Ƿallflower (Wynn is for the Waylaid Wallflower) ⚠️ Content warning: This article depicts the following: Harm towards students and teachers in a school setting. Mentions of mass shootings. Mentions of serial murderers. Mentions of a suicide attempt. ⚠️ content warning Item #: SCP-8097 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8097's body is being held for study for the next three years; once yearly, his cadaver is to be inspected for any anomalous properties. If none have manifested after five years, SCP-8097's remains are to be disposed of. Special Containment Procedures Addendum: As of June 2017, SCP-8097's remains have failed to display any anomalous properties, and as such, their body has been cremated, and their ashes have been interred in their family plot at the Flower Street Cemetery in Hunter's Creek. Description: SCP-8097 refers to Gregory Arnoldson, a seventeen-year-old spree killer of Swedish and Russian descent responsible for between twelve and fifteen deaths in the town of Hunter’s Creek, Massachusetts in May of 2012. Prior to his death, Arnoldson possessed an unknown quality and quantity of anomalous abilities which aided in his crimes. The only confirmed anomalous ability Arnoldson possessed was increased regenerative capabilities, to the point where twenty rounds from a Hunter’s Creek Police Department firearm failed to subdue them. Records kept by SCP-8097’s school, including a ‘shooter risk profile’1 show a wide range of behavioral issues, including vandalizing school property, assaulting other students, and ‘inappropriate involvement’ with a former art teacher. SCP-8097 was reported to have been abused by other family members, but these claims were never passed on to law enforcement, child services, or any other appropriate agency. On May 15th, 2012, SCP-8097 murdered a stocker at Walker’s Grocery Store in Hunter’s Creek and left their body on the loading dock behind the store; after security footage was uploaded to LiveLeak2 showing SCP-8097 avoiding all blood splatter while killing the subject in question by forcibly removing their jugular, the Foundation launched an investigation. Despite Foundation efforts, SCP-8097 would kill at least four more individuals leading up to May 20th, the night of Hunter’s Creek High School’s Senior Prom. At this event, he would kill seven more individuals. Three more bodies were discovered at his family home on May 21st, bringing his death toll to fifteen. Addendum: Timeline of Events, 5/20/2012: Archivist’s Note: Events confirmed by security camera footage or other electronic recording (i.e. computer records, photography, audio recording) are presented with bold timestamps. Events only attested by eyewitness testimony are indicated by underlined timestamps. 7:00 PM: Senior Prom officially commences at Hunter’s Creek High School. SCP-8097 is observed on security cameras, entering the premises and paying admission, displaying no abnormal behavior. They are wearing a pink boutonnière3, despite not having a date, and a black tuxedo. Other students avoid them; body language indicates that they detect a foul odor of some form. 7:00 PM: Students indicate that SCP-8097 had a strong odor of body spray around him, as if attempting to cover an unpleasant smell. 7:03 PM: The DJ begins playing their first set of music in the main gymnasium; fitting with the dance’s theme of ‘Crazy 80’s’, the song is Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cindi Lauper. 7:07 PM: SCP-8097 is seen on camera in the main gymnasium attempting to converse with a fellow student. After two minutes of conversation, the student breaks away. 7:09 PM: A student in a hot pink prom dress, identified as Gwendolyn “Wendy” Marshall, is seen on camera entering the women’s restroom on the first floor. 7:10 PM: SCP-8097 is seen entering the women’s restroom on the first floor. 7:18 PM: SCP-8097 is seen leaving the women’s restroom on the first floor. He appears to be sucking something off of his left index finger. Marshall, photographed approximately two hours prior to the attack. 7:19 PM: SCP-8097 is seen re-entering the women’s restroom. 7:20 PM: SCP-8097 is seen exiting the men’s restroom on the first floor. The two restrooms are separated by approximately 3m of corridor, and do not have adjacent walls. 7:22 PM: Another female student is seen attempting to enter the women’s restroom on the first floor, but finds the door locked. They shrug, and proceed to the one on the second floor. 7:30 or 7:32 PM: A pair of male students, one wearing a blue boutonnière, confront SCP-8097 by the buffet table outside the gymnasium. Records show these two individuals had been the subject of abuse by SCP-8097 for several years prior to this encounter. 7:34 PM: A pair of male students are seen walking away from the approximate location of the buffet table, their body language conveying disgust. SCP-8097 follows them, before cameras lose track of both parties as they vanish around a corner. 7:40 PM (approx): A student reports hearing the sounds of metal banging in one of the second-floor hallways, ‘as if a locker was being slammed shut over and over’, accompanied by a loud crunching sound on the last bang. Upon seeing a member of maintenance personnel on the balcony overlooking the lobby, they disregard the noise and return to their conversation. 7:42: A member of maintenance personnel, repairing a light fixture on the balcony, nods in acknowledgement as SCP-8097 passes. The custodian is wearing headphones. SCP-8097 leaves behind a visible shoe print, causing an annoyed reaction from the maintenance personnel. 8:00 PM: The second set of music begins, consisting largely of 1980s motion picture soundtracks. 8:10 PM: Voting for Prom King and Prom Queen begins, and ballot boxes are placed by the entrance to the auditorium. 8:12: SCP-8097 deposits votes for both Prom King and Prom Queen. 8:12 PM: Two students and one teacher note that the ballots SCP-8097 deposits appear to be wet. 8:23 PM: SCP-8097 goes to the DJ and requests a song to be played. The DJ is seen laughing and nodding, before they queue it up as the next song. 8:25 PM: The main theme from the horror film Prom Night begins to play. 8:35 PM: Two students, one male and one female, enter the women’s locker room. The female student is in a state of mild undress. Their left shoe is lost as they enter the locker room. 8:36 PM: SCP-8097 enters the women’s locker room, picking up the shoe as they go. 8:37 PM: Surveillance equipment within the locker room4 record the following audio: SCP-8097: Hey. Male Student: Wh— oh, unintelligible ck, Greg, what does y unintelligible ss want now? SCP-8097: An apology. Female Student: Unintelligible SCP-8097: You know for what, Carlie, you fucking whore. Sounds of altercation Sound of glass breaking Screaming Silence 8:42 PM: SCP-8097 emerges from the women’s locker room and attempts to deposit the female student’s shoe into a trash can; the heel of the shoe has a sheen to it, suggesting it is wet. However, the receptacle is over-full, and it falls out the other side. SCP-8097 is not seen on surveillance between 8:42 and 9:07 PM. However, student and teacher testimony records possible anomalous phenomena connected to SCP-8097. 8:47 PM: Maintenance personnel on the second floor reports seeing an eye looking out at him from Locker 244. Upon opening it with the master locker key, nothing is found. 8:49 PM: Several students attempt to enter the women’s bathroom on the first floor, knocking rapidly upon it. They are discouraged from doing so when the knocking is repeated from the other side of the door. 8:55 PM: (approx) A biology teacher reports hearing muffled moaning outside their second-floor classroom where they are grading papers. This room is adjacent to Locker 244. He notes that Locker 244 has been vandalized, with words scratched into the metal, reading: im ok dont st stop me 9:00 PM: A puddle of water is discovered by the bleachers near the women’s locker room. A student notes that the showers in the locker room occasionally leak. 9:07 PM: SCP-8097 reappears, emerging from the first-floor men’s bathroom. 9:12 PM: A chaperone discovers the shoe of the female student last seen entering the women’s locker room. 9:23 PM: The chaperone approaches the DJ in order to make an announcement about the lost shoe. 9:24 PM: SCP-8097 is heard conversing with the chaperone, telling her that he has seen the student to whom it belongs, and asks her to follow him. 9:28 PM: SCP-8097 is seen entering a staircase reading “ROOF ACCESS”. 9:42 PM: Surveillance in the school’s lobby shows an indistinct shape impacting on the skylight above the main entrance. The sound of glass straining is heard. 9:45 PM: SCP-8097 returns from the roof. They are no longer wearing a boutonnière. 9:47 PM: SCP-8097 emerges from the men’s bathroom on the first floor, wearing a blue boutonnière. 10:00 PM: Prom King and Prom Queen are announced as being Eric Striker and Carlie Planter, respectively. Neither of them approach the stage to collect their regalia. 10:00 PM: Several students jeer that they’re in the locker room. 10:03 PM: A student in a white prom dress enters the women’s locker room. 10:07 PM: The previous student exits the locker room, screaming and sobbing, rushing the stage and grabbing the DJ’s microphone, announcing that there are dead bodies in the locker room. 10:07 PM: While initially disbelieved, the look of horror on her face, combined with visible vomit and a panicked demeanor, convinces a chaperone to inspect the locker room. They confirm the student's findings. 10:08 PM: The maintenance personnel working on the second floor notices the door to locker 244 is slightly ajar. He opens it, and a corpse is partially dislodged. 10:08 PM: Photographs taken by the maintenance personnel immediately after opening the locker show that the corpse matches one of the two males who were antagonizing SCP-8097 earlier in the night. Its left hand appears to be fused to the locker door. A second, indistinct shape is bisected by the locker's shelving. 10:10 PM: Students are instructed to shelter in place within classrooms, and not to be out of the view of chaperones or teachers at any time. 10:20 PM: Police arrive. Two Foundation agents accompany them as ‘special FBI investigators’. 10:25 PM: Police notice the indistinct shape resting on the skylight. As they are trying to examine it, the glass shatters and the body of the chaperone falls through the skylight. The officer observing it is crushed by the falling body and killed. Part of a pink boutonnière is discovered in the chaperone’s hand. 10:30 PM: The Chief of Police declares a lockdown around Hunter’s Creek High School. 10:39 PM: The women’s restroom on the first floor is unlocked. Gwendolyn Marshall is retrieved from it, and placed into a body bag. She sits upright as the zipper is about to close around her head. 10:55 PM: Paramedics treat Marshall’s wounds. She recounts the events which occurred, naming SCP-8097 as the assailant. 10:59 PM: SCP-8097’s ballots for prom royalty are recovered from a trash can; both were wet, and were not counted. Both of them are written in blood. 11:03 PM: An officer patrolling the area discovers SCP-8097 in the school’s assembly hall, and draws their weapon. As they approach, they fire into SCP-8097’s center of mass. SCP-8097 does not seem to be affected by the bullets. 11:05 PM: SCP-8097 stabs the officer in the ear with what appears to be an audio cable. 11:13 PM: The school’s guidance counselor arrives on-scene, wanting to console the student body. The Chief of Police escorts her through the building. 11:27 PM: While passing by the biology classroom in the first floor corridor, the guidance counselor and chief of police hear a noise within. Both enter to investigate. 11:43 PM: SCP-8097 exits the biology classroom, holding an indistinct, somewhat spherical object in their left hand. A red fluid is dripping from it. 11:50 PM: Gwendolyn Marshall disappears from the triage area where she is being treated, and cannot be located after several minutes of searching. 11:57 PM: SCP-8097 enters the chemistry laboratory, and attempts to open several cabinets. Finding them locked, he exits the room to search for a key. 11:58 PM: Marshall enters through the other door to the chemistry laboratory, and locates a spare key hidden in the lab’s fume hood. She begins opening cabinets containing chemicals and lab equipment, hooking a hose to a gas faucet, as well as locating a lighter in the teacher’s desk. 11:59 PM: SCP-8097 re-enters the laboratory. Marshall, who is hiding behind the door, breaks a bottle of caustic liquid over their head. As they scream in pain, Marshall shoves him towards the hose and faucet, turning it on before igniting the lighter. As SCP-8097 begins to burn, Marshall retrieves a fire extinguisher to seemingly douse them. While she does so, immediately after the flames are extinguished, she begins beating him over the head with the canister of flame retardant. 12:03 AM, May 21st, 2012: Estimated time of death of SCP-8097. 12:06 AM: Marshall is discovered by members of the police department and pulled away from SCP-8097’s cadaver. Interviewer: Agent Adrienne Palmer Subject: Gwendolyn Marshall Date: 22/05/2012 Location of Interview: Hunter's Creek PD Holding Cells Marshall has been held in Hunter's Creek PD's Holding cells for over twenty-four hours. The only communication she has made during this time is the word 'Lawyer'. Palmer entered the holding cells at 01:32 PM, activating a hidden recording device on her clothing. Agent Palmer: Good afternoon. It's Wendy, right? Marshall: For the umpteenth time, give me a lawyer. Agent Palmer: I'm actually not police. One second. Palmer retrieves an identification badge for her cover identity. Agent Palmer: I'm with Suicide and Crisis Prevention. We're a non-profit organization dedicated to helping people in the aftermath of severe traumatic events. Natural disasters, terrorist attacks— Marshall: School shootings? Agent Palmer: Exactly. Marshall: Can I see your badge? Agent Palmer: Of course. Palmer places the badge on a portion of the cell meant for depositing meal trays, and pushes it halfway through. Marshall reads it and hands it back. Marshall: Okay. Are… are you going to record this? Agent Palmer produces a pen and notepad. Agent Palmer: I'm just going to take notes. I want to see if I can't recommend a good therapist in the area based off of what you tell me. Now, what can you tell me? Marshall: All right. Let me just… Marshall sits in her cell. Palmer pulls up her own chair. Marshall: Where do you want me to start? Agent Palmer: Who did you go to prom with? Marshall: Nobody. I… I just wanted to be there. Be around people. Agent Palmer: It's a twenty-dollar ticket. Pretty pricey for this part of the state. Marshall: Movie theater downtown has one screen and can't play anything newer than Jurassic Park. That costs the same, more if you get popcorn. Agent Palmer: Fair enough. Marshall: There was… there was someone there I wanted to ask to dance. Never got a chance to because… yeah. Agent Palmer: Because you were locked in the bathroom for most of the night? Marshall: Yep. Palmer's notes indicate that Marshall looked 'displeased, regretful, frustrated'. Marshall: I… I don't even know what happened. Agent Palmer: You have ligat— you have handprints around your neck. Marshall: I do? Marshall touches her neck at this point. An exclamation of pain is picked up on the microphone. Agent Palmer: The police believed he tried to strangle you, and didn't… Marshall: Finish the job? Agent Palmer: Essentially. Marshall: Okay, yeah, that… I was trying to find the guy I wanted to dance with. I was about to talk to him, when… when Greg came up to me. Agent Palmer: Greg being the… individual who caused this event. Marshall: Yep. I… okay, I gotta be honest? He… everyone knows he's fucked up. We've always known. Agent Palmer: How so? Marshall: Ms. Hipp, our fifth-grade teacher. She… when Greg got into her class in August, there were three hamsters in the cage there. One of them went missing in September. Its head was found in… in Mr. Power's desk.5 Ms. Hipp got rid of the hamsters after that. We all knew it was Greg that did it. Agent Palmer: He harmed animals? Marshall: And people. He was… he kept on pulling hair, hitting kids… he once nearly broke the arm of another kid. Absalom. He doesn't go here anymore, I think he's in juvie.6 Agent Palmer: So, he was always a bully? Marshall: Yep. It… I can't say it was his fault. His mom did awful things to him. He kept showing up to school with burns on the back of his hand. She died earlier this year. Agent Palmer: How? Marshall: I… think she OD'd.7 Agent Palmer: I see. Marshall: It… look, it doesn't matter. I… I can't even remember what the hell happened. He came up to me, and I went into the bathroom to get away from him. Next thing I know, I'm waking up halfway in a body bag. Agent Palmer: Didn't you have anyone to… get away to? Someone you felt safe around? Marshall: I don't have a lot of friends. I'm kind of a wallflower, honestly. Agent Palmer makes a note: 'who says 'wallflower' anymore?' Marshall: I don't mind it. I spend a lot of time reading and watching stuff. Mainly true crime. Agent Palmer: Sorry, what's true crime? Marshall: Lizzie Borden, Ed Gein, Ed Kemper… or more modern stuff like the Brockton Bay Binder. Analysis of actual real-life crime stuff. It… I thought it was fun. Agent Palmer: Does this… hobby of yours include mass-casualty events? Marshall: Yeah. That's why I don't think it's fun anymore. Because… when I saw one of the bodies, I realized something. Agent Palmer: What? Marshall: Do you know who Charles Manson is? Agent Palmer: Of course. Cult leader whose followers— Marshall: Do you remember anyone his cult killed? Their names I mean. Agent Palmer: Sh— Marshall: Other than Sharon Tate. Several seconds of silence. Marshall: Can you remember the names of anyone who died at Columbine? Can you name a single person Rodney Alcala killed? Henry Lee Lucas? Hell, Jodi Arias— she was massive when I was in junior high! And everyone talks about her, but nobody, nobody remembers the name Travis Alexander! All of these horrible, horrible people… Palmer makes a note: 'subject seems transfixed with the concept of violent individuals'. Marshall: And nobody remembers the people that they killed. Just that they killed people. That's what's going to happen here. Agent Palmer: Do you feel… guilty about that? Marshall: Why would I feel guilty? I'm pissed off. I want to look him in the eyes at his trial and read out the names of everyone he killed. Agent Palmer: His… trial? Marshall: There's evidence all over the place. And I'm a pretty good witness. He's totally going to be executed. Feel sorry for his sister, though; wonder who's going to take care of her. Agent Palmer: You… don't know? Marshall: What? Agent Palmer: Gregory Arnoldson is… dead. Marshall: What?! When? Did he fucking— what did he do?! Agent Palmer: Ms. Marshall, you killed him. You don't remember? Marshall: …no. There… Marshall inspects her prom dress, noting discoloration from exposure to acid. She looks at the hem of her dress, which is slightly carbonized. Marshall: There's no way. There's… I can't have. No, I… I would remember it. I would… Oh God, is that why I'm here? The— the police won't tell me anything. Agent Palmer: Killing someone is highly traumatic, Ms. Marshall. But I don't think you have to worry. If anything, you're… you're a hero. Marshall: Why can't I remember it? What the hell? And… if I killed him… why isn't there any blood on my dress? Agent Palmer writes a note: 'dress does appear to have minimal blood spatter. anomaly hematokinetic?' Agent Palmer: I'll put you in contact with a therapist in the area. I'm going to stop at the vending machines before I leave; can I get you anything? Marshall: Uh. I-I feel… I'm gonna be sick. Agent Palmer: They have Sprite. I find that settles the stomach. Marshall: Please. Agent Palmer: Of course. Be right back. Agent Palmer exits the room and finds a secluded area to make final notes. Agent Palmer: Marshall has experienced severe trauma and appears to have either suppressed the memory of the murder, or else entered a 'blackout' state where the memory did not form. Furthermore, due to the fact that Marshall was unconscious and incapable of witnessing the majority of the anomaly's rampage, including any apparent anomalous activity, I am not recommending amnestic treatment at this time, as it would be a… a waste of resources. Marshall is heard loudly retching in the background. However, reports of Ms. Marshall's heroism have already been reported in the media, with the New York Post publishing a leaked image from the school's surveillance system showing Marshall terminating the anomaly. It is infeasible to contain the information that she is responsible for resolving a mass casualty event. As such, I am recommending that she be sent to a Foundation counselor operating at a civilian psychiatric practice so she may be monitored further. End recording. Selected Therapy Session Excerpts RE: POI-8097-001 (Gwendolyn Marshall) Interviewer: Dr. Malcolm Robinson Date of Interview: 07/02/2012 Session #: 3 Dr. Robinson: Come on in, Wendy. How are you feeling? POI-8097-001: I'm… not doing too great. Dr. Robinson: What's wrong? POI-8097-001: I've applied to seven different colleges, and none of them want me. Apparently, I'm a— POI-8097-001 makes quotation marks with her fingers. "controversial figure" and they don't want anything to do with me. Like, how the fuck is that fair? I don't even remember what the hell I did! Dr. Robinson: Where have you applied? POI-8097-001: U of M Amhearst. Bridgewater. Tufts, Bently, Cambridge. Dr. Robinson: Not trying out for Harvard or MIT? POI-8097-001: Harvard was my dream school. I wanted to go into their criminology major. But I have literal blood on my hands, and the prestigious institution that it is doesn't want someone like me going there. Dr. Robinson: That hardly seems fair. What were you planning on doing with the degree? POI-8097-001: Was planning on getting into Quantico. Dr. Robinson: FBI? That's not a bad career path. POI-8097-001: Yeah. But then I got to experience it first-hand. Silence on the recording. POI-8097-001: I didn't even see that much. I have nightmares of him pinning me down and… POI-8097-001 rubs her neck and gasps softly. POI-8097-001: I don't even know what he did to me. But… I don't think he was… he was normal. Dr. Robinson: He was mentally disturbed, yes— POI-8097-001: Not what I mean. I… I was locked in the restroom. It only locks from the inside, and there's no other way out. He'd have to walk through a wall to get out of there. And he killed half a dozen more people before… POI-8097-001 lets out a soft sob. POI-8097-001: Why can't I remember killing him? Why… why don't I remember? Dr. Robinson: It's normal for people to suppress memories of traumatic events. POI-8097-001: It's like… I wasn't even there. But I had to have had… some presence of mind. I poured acid on him and set him on fire. What kind of psychopath… Dr. Robinson: Let me stop you there. I've treated actual psychopaths. You're not one, I can tell you that. You're someone who's gone through trauma, and that can leave you isolated and scared. Tissue? POI-8097-001: Please. POI-8097-001 is heard blowing her nose and sobbing further. POI-8097-001: What if I turn out like him? Dr. Robinson: I don't think mental illness is transmissible like that. POI-8097-001: There was… people thought that Greg killed his mom. His mom might have run over someone with a car a few years back. What if there's some kind of… I don't know. What if I kill someone next, keep the cycle going? Dr. Robinson: You're an intelligent young woman, Wendy. You have a bright future ahead of you. And I'm going to help you achieve it. Part of our counseling services here include helping people find jobs and get into school. If you want, I could set you up with one of our life counselors. [Approximately thirty-eight minutes of irrelevant data has been expunged.] POI-8097-001: You're not from here, are you, doc? Dr. Robinson: I'm afraid not. But this seems like a fairly nice town. POI-8097-001: It's a small town. Everyone knows everyone else here. But… ever since it happened, nobody's been willing to talk about it. We held a big memorial service during graduation, but… none of the people Greg fucking killed were even named. They just showed their pictures, like that was enough. I want their names to be remembered. Dr. Robinson: What were their names? POI-8097-001: Arnold Jameson. Max Parker. Carlie Planter. Eric Striker. Mandie Jones, she… she was the chaperone who was on the roof. Officer Mark Allan. Officer Nigel Jay. Chief Landon Hunter. Ms. Kyra Cameron, she… she was the guidance counselor. I… I miss her. Dr. Robinson: Were you close to any of them? POI-8097-001: Not really. Just kept my head down and didn't make many friends. Ms. Cameron was nice to me when I went to see her. Dr. Robinson: Did you see her a lot? POI-8097-001: Once or twice a month. I… the school said I had a tendency to 'behave inappropriately' in class. Dr. Robinson: How so? POI-8097-001: I'd laugh when I wasn't supposed to. Would work on my homework during silent reading. Sometimes I'd fall asleep in first period— school starts at goddamn seven in the morning, what do they expect? But she was understanding. She wasn't one of those counselors who just… pretended to give a shit for their paycheck. Everyone remembers the maniac who brutalizes a school. But nobody remembers the people who he killed. They blend into the background. Like I always did. That's not fair. These people shouldn't be wallflowers for the rest of time. They deserve to be remembered. Dr. Robinson: How do you aim to do that? POI-8097-001: …I don't know. Dr. Robinson: Something to think about for our next session, then. Good seeing you again, Wendy. Same time next week? POI-8097-001: Two weeks. Going out of town with my family starting on the fifth. Dr. Robinson: Of course. Happy 4th, by the way. POI-8097-001: You as well. Photo of POI-8097, retrieved from the Facebook page of Gwendolyn Marshall's Private Investigation service circa 2021 Item #: SCP-8097 Special Containment Procedures: Investigation into SCP-8097 is currently underway. The cadavers of the victims have not displayed any anomalous properties, and as such, containment efforts are currently focusing on investigation into POI-8097. Description: SCP-8097 refers to an unknown subject responsible for four anomalous murders in Hunter's Creek, Massachusetts. The connection between each of these deaths is evident in the presence of a sigil of unknown significance at each of the murders, always painted on the wall opposite of where the cadaver is discovered. Due to the fact that these sigils bear a resemblance to flowers, the media has dubbed SCP-8097 the 'Wallflower Killer'. Each murder committed, to date, mirrors methods used by the previous SCP-8097 iteration, Gregory Arnoldson, in a mass casualty event on May 20th, 2012. Furthermore, the attacks exclusively target survivors of the 2012 incident, with the first four victims consisting of three students and one teacher. Currently, the most likely candidate for SCP-8097 is Gwendolyn Marshall (POI-8097), a survivor of the Arnoldson incident. Since 2014, Marshall has worked as a private investigator within ███████ County, operating out of Hunter's Creek following her failure to enter any institution of higher learning. Marshall had been in contact with two of the four victims through a support group which she had helped create in 2017. Foundation agent Allan Weeks, posing as an FBI Special Agent, was dispatched to interview Marshall. Agent Weeks activates his body camera within 17 West Main Street. They are on the second floor, before a door with a frosted glass window. Text on the window reads: "Gwen Marshall, Private Investigator. Marital Disputes, Lost Items, Runaways." Weeks knocks on the door. Marshall: For god's sake, Gary, I told you, I'll have the rent tomo— Weeks: Miss Marshall, I'm with the FBI. Silence from the other side of the door. It opens several seconds later. Marshall is twenty-seven years old, pale, with green eyes and unkempt brown hair. She is wearing a T-Shirt which says "CrimeCon2019" and a pair of blue jeans. A pistol is at her left side, secured in a holster. Marshall: What do you want? Weeks: I think we both know what I want. I want to talk about the Wallflower killings. Marshall laughs. Marshall: You think I'm doin' it, don't you? Weeks: I… Marshall: Look. You ain't the first person to think that. It's a small town, and word gets around. Psycho's goin' around killing survivors of the massacre, has to be the crazy chick who's obsessed with true crime. She shakes her head. My old therapist even popped back into my life to see if I was 'doing okay'8. I fired him five years ago, and he still thinks he has a say in my life. Weeks: Look, Miss Marshall, I just… this is the most prolific serial killer that Massachusetts has seen since— Marshall: Since Alfred Gaynor. I know. I share a birthday with him— December 10th. Weeks: Then you understand why the FBI has an interest in this? Marshall: Why send only one person, then? Why don't you have a team with you? Weeks: I… I'm here to assess the situation. Marshall: Let me see some identification. Weeks: Of course. Weeks hands Marshall a counterfeit FBI badge, supplied by the Foundation. Marshall: …Got a bridge to sell me too? Weeks: What? Marshall: The FBI stopped using this seal back in '07, and it hasn't used this style of serial number since the '90s. Who are you, really? Bear in mind impersonating a fed can get you three years behind bars. Weeks sighs. Weeks: Okay, you got me. I'm a true crime junkie, like you.9 The FBI… they're not interested in this yet. I'm hoping to help get them interested. Marshall: And… you thought the best way to do that was… playing Agent Mulder? Weeks: Okay, when you put it like that… Marshall: Name one of Rodney Alcala's victims. Weeks: Try three. Charlotte Lamb, Jill Parenteau, Robin Samsoe. Marshall: How many times was Travis Alexander stabbed? Weeks: 27 to 29. Maybe 30 if you count the throat being slit, on top of the gunshot wound. Marshall: How did AJ Fader die? Weeks: Stabbed himself in the eye. Nobody knows why. Marshall: …okay, so you know your stuff. Let's talk. Marshall invites Weeks into her office. A pair of office chairs sit on either side of a medium-sized folding table with a laptop on it. Behind it is a blank whiteboard; Marshall spins the board around to reveal several photographs, documents, and lines of dry-erase ink making up a tableau which documents the murders committed by SCP-8097. Weeks: Jesus. Marshall: I… was hired to tail the first victim. Abigail North. She was captain of the cheer team. Her husband thought she was cheating on him, and when she… I found the body. She was strangled. Weeks: Like you were. Marshall: Yeah. But that's the thing. Second and third victims, Gary Nicholson and Dave Wyatt, were cut up and stuffed into some lockers at the furniture factory. Fourth vic, Mrs. Kirby— that is, Alice Kirby, she used to teach algebra— was found on the roof of the library, with pink flowers in one hand. Weeks: Identical to the original murders. Marshall: Not quite. Nicholson and Wyatt, they were cut up into chunks so they could fit into the locker; Max and Arnold, the victims they're meant to correspond to, they were dismembered and decapitated, not chopped up. And Mandie Jones, who was found on the roof— she was the fifth person murdered. Third and Fourth were Eric and Carlie. Weeks: And then there's the fact that… well, you survived. Marshall: I'm kinda creeped out that you're familiar with my case, but yeah. They're meant to look like a copycat, but they're gettin' stuff wrong, and not just the geographical details. So… Marshall picks up a marker and draws a question mark in between the third and fourth victims. Marshall: Either they skipped two on purpose, or we're missing two victims. Weeks: Hopefully it's the former. Now, you said that the second and third were found in a locker room, third on the library… Marshall: There's a skylight there, like at the school. Abigail was found in the bathroom of the movie theater. They're mimicking general locations, not so much exact details. Weeks: Striker and Planter were killed in a locker room… where all have the authorities searched? Marshall: I go to the rec every day to work out and haven't found a body yet. Same with the pool, and the new high school. Weeks: Sorry… new high school? Marshall: They shuttered the old one after what Greg did. It's still standing there, in the middle of a field. Marshall falls silent, turning to face Weeks. Marshall: You don't think… Weeks: I'm already impersonating a federal officer. Why not add trespassing to the list? Marshall: I think I kinda like you. Weeks and Marshall have crawled under a hole in the fence surrounding the former Hunter’s Creek High School. The school has been shuttered since mid-2012, but has not been demolished, due to a lack of funds allocated by the ███████ County commissioner’s office. Power was shut off in early 2013, and despite the security measures (a two-and-a-half-meter tall fence surrounding the property, irregular patrols by the Hunter’s Creek Police Department, a single security camera at the northern end of the perimeter), it is regularly broken into and vandalized. Weeks: You do this a lot? Marshall: Can’t tell you how many junkies I’ve found here. No budget to tear it down, no budget to keep it safe either. I actually have a stash of narcan in my old locker, just in case. Weeks: They never even took out the lockers? Marshall: They took out one. For crime scene analysis. Weeks: Right. They approach the front entrance of the school. It is covered by wooden boards, which are secured in place by a chain. Marshall: Shit. They replaced the boards since last time. Weeks: Now what? Marshall steps back and scans the area. Marshall: Give me a boost. I can get in through the second floor, and open a window down here. Hunter's Creek High School Building, photographed in 2010 Weeks: They’re big enough? Marshall: This was built back in ‘02. Architect was from Colorado. Weeks: What’s that got to do with— Marshall: He figured schools could use more escape routes, so he made the windows big enough to be climbed out of. Weeks:…ah. Gotcha. Weeks assist Marshall into the second-floor window. She climbs in. Weeks: Hold up! Weeks throws Marshall a radio. She catches it midair. Marshall: Seriously? Huh. This is serious stuff. Weeks: Two-mile range. Military surplus. Marshall: I’ll let you in, gimme ten. Marshall disappears into the school. Week’s radio blares static, before she speaks. Marshall: Testing. Weeks: I hear ya. What’s it look like? Marshall: Abandoned. Bringing back bad memories, but what else is new? Weeks: School doesn’t agree with a lot of kids. Marshall: There's more to it than that. Schools are designed to give scars. You have rules that punish bullied kids for trying to fight back. You have principals and superintendents being hired from the military or the department of corrections. You have curricula that teach propaganda and mythology as undisputed fact, and discourages debate. The day before prom, it was announced that the football team would get a $100,000 grant to get new gear and fix up the locker room — only the boy’s locker room, keep in mind — while the rest of the school district didn’t even have air conditioning. Weeks: Same story everywhere in the country, Marshall. Marshall emerges from the window in front of Weeks. Marshall: Just because it’s raining shit everywhere doesn’t mean I have to like the smell. Weeks: …I didn’t hear you take the stairs. Over the radio, I mean. Marshall: I have quiet shoes. Come in. Weeks enters the building, entering a dilapidated classroom. Desks are absent, but the whiteboard up front remains intact. The words “GrEG LIVS”[sic] are written in permanent marker upon the board. Marshall turns on a flashlight. Marshall: Okay, locker room is this way. Weeks: They took the desks, but not the lockers? Huh. Marshall: Lockers have to fit in the hallways, desks are one-size-fits-all. Marshall and Weeks walk onwards, into the hallway. The school is heavily dilapidated, with several parts of the modular ceiling having crumbled. A burst pipe has led to a large amount of mold growing on the floor. They round the corner into the atrium of the building, and head north, down the hallway leading to the gymnasium. Marshall: Look at that. Marshall points her flashlight to a bootprint on the floor. Weeks: Men’s size ten, I’d say. When did it last rain? Marshall: About a week ago. Hold on. Marshall photographs the bootprint using her phone’s camera. Weeks: Ain’t gonna get good quality outta that. Marshall: I left my Nikon at home. Weeks and Marshall proceed further in. Several other bootprints are present, eventually leading them into the men’s locker room. Within, [COGNITOHAZARD EXPUNGED]. A sigil of a flower, painted in blood, surrounds the bodies. To prevent the cognitohazard from being recorded, Weeks turns off his camera. Weeks: Jesus Christ! Marshall: They… what… what’s wrong with their… why are their bodies… Weeks: Fucking… don’t photograph it! Marshall: Why? Weeks: Just… trust me on this. Now, I… I think we have enough to get the FBI involved. Fucking Christ. The Boston branch of the Unusual Incidents Unit was contacted, and several technicians trained in handling anomalous remains conducted an autopsy in situ. They concluded that the state of the cadavers matched that of the third and fourth victims of the original Hunter’s Creek Mass Casualty incident. As of May 8th, 2022, SCP-8097 remains at large. Selected Therapy Session Excerpts RE: POI-8097-001 ("Gwendolyn Marshall") Interviewer: Dr. Malcolm Robinson Date of Interview: 09/12/2013 Session #: 67 Dr. Robinson: Word about town is that we have a new P.I. POI-8097-001: Not yet. I'm going down to Boston for an apprenticeship for a few months. Then I have to take a few exams, and then I take a certification. Dr. Robinson: Why become a private investigator, though? I suppose it's the closest thing to an FBI agent available. POI-8097-001: That's… one way to put it, I guess. Mainly, I just… I kind of have this itch. Dr. Robinson: What do you mean? POI-8097-001: I just… feel a bit restless. Have been since the… since last year. I feel like I need to pursue something… something useful. Dr. Robinson: No luck with college, still? POI-8097-001: Nearest place that will accept me is in goddamn Ohio. But honestly? Becoming a P.I. means I don't have to go into eternal debt. Dr. Robinson: No scholarship programs are available, I suppose? POI-8097-001: Turns out that when you're not in any clubs, teams, or anything else extracurricular, on top of being a fucking murderer, colleges don't want to offer you so much as a handshake. Dr. Robinson: That doesn't seem fair. POI-8097-001: It's what I live with. Perks of being a fucking wallflower. Dr. Robinson: You keep on using that word to describe yourself. Do you think that's accurate? That you're introverted? POI-8097-001: There's more to it than that. I'm… beneath notice. One of my earliest memories was mom breaking the windows of the SUV to get me out because she had left me in the car on a hot summer day and forgot about me. Sometimes I wish she had just… left me in there. Dr. Robinson: Is being beneath notice a bad thing in your new line of work? POI-8097-001: No, I guess not, but… I feel like everything that happened at prom just got swept under the rug. High school's still closed, Greg's ashes are scattered in the woods somewhere, and… people don't talk about it anymore. Sandy Hook and the other dozen mass shootings we've had since then have overshadowed it. Laughter is heard. I've been banned from Wikipedia seven times because I'm trying to maintain a page about the thing. You know what they call it? A 'Mass Casualty Incident'. Not a shooting, or a stabbing, or a slaying. Ten people dead, and they call it an 'Incident'. Twice I was banned because I tried to add a list of the victims. It's like… nobody wants to remember them. Dr. Robinson: Seems to run counter to your… hobby. POI-8097-001: What, you mean true crime? Anyone who says they're a 'fan' of that is a goddamn ghoul, as far as I'm concerned. They can give me their opinions on what makes a serial killer tick when they have a degree in criminal psychology, and not a fucking second sooner. Everyone cares about the spectacle. Nobody cares about who died. Sighing is heard. I can't even bring myself to feel angry about it. It's just… that's just the way the world works. When you need help the most, the world fails you. Dr. Robinson: Do you feel as if I'm failing you? POI-8097-001: …I've been coming here for over a year, doc. I'm wondering when the healing starts. Dr. Robinson: In that case, we can try something next session. Have you ever heard of EMDR? POI-8097-001: I don't listen to Skrillex. Dr. Robinson: …pardon? POI-8097-001: EDM? Electronic dance music? Techno? Dr. Robinson: Oh, no. EMDR is a form of therapy that focuses on letting one process trauma through repeated left-right-left-right stimuli. Let me give you some material on it, one moment… Following the discovery of a pair of cognitohazardous cadavers at the former Hunter's Creek High School, Agent Weeks and Marshall contacted the Federal Bureau of Investigation. However, Marshall was unsatisfied with the outcome of events. Marshall and Weeks are at Jerry's, a local 24 hour diner, shortly after sunset. Marshall has ordered a relatively large meal, with a rare steak, coffee, and a slice of cherry pie. Weeks has ordered a cup of coffee and a plate of chicken fingers. Marshall: What was wrong with the bodies? Weeks: I… I don't know. Marshall: But there was something wrong with them, right? Weeks: Yeah. It… they shouldn't have looked like that. They couldn't have. Right? Marshall: Who are you really? Weeks: Sorry? Marshall: You carry around military-grade radios, you have counterfeit FBI badges, you know your shit when it comes to true crime… you know how hard it is for people to even talk about what happened at the school around here? It's like there's a mental block. One that you don't seem to have. Weeks: I'm… not sure what you… Weeks is silent for several seconds. Weeks: Oh, son of a bitch. Marshall: What? Weeks: There aren't any memorials to what happened around here? None at all? Marshall: None. I've always thought it was… odd. Like, I've studied trauma in communities affected by mass tragedies, ranging from Columbine to Parkland, and there's always some kind of memorial. I tried to organize one a few years ago, and didn't even get a dozen signatures on the petition. There's something wrong here. Weeks: …Tell me the names of the victims again. Marshall: Arnold Jameson. Max Parker. Carlie Planter. Eric Striker. Mandie Jones. Officer Mark Allan. Officer Nigel Jay. Chief Landon Hunter. Ms. Kyra Cameron. Weeks attempts to write down the names as Marshall says them. Their pen records unintelligble scribbling. Weeks: …son of a bitch, they're anti-memetic. Marshall: Anti-what? Back up, what are you talking about? Weeks: That's a… really long story, Marshall. Marshall: …holy shit. You're with the Founders, aren't you? Weeks: The— what? Marshall: The Global Founders. Parawatch claims they're a conspiracy that rules the world, like the Illuminati if they were on steroids and managed to lock god up in a cell. I remember seeing the word 'antimemetic' on a thread about them. It means 'can't be remembered', right? Weeks: …fucking Parawatch of all things. Yeah, that's exactly what it means. But if I can remember the victims… Marshall: That means that the killer is a copycat. Also, are you actually part of the… Weeks: If I told you, Wendy, I'd have to kill you. Marshall: Good fucking luck, Allan. Weeks: I mean it. Marshall: After I got my last rejection letter from college, I tried Tylenol with an Everclear chaser. Gave me indigestion. Weeks: A potassium overdose wouldn't show up on an autopsy. Marshall: …okay, so let's say you are part of the Global Founders, but can't tell me. If I turn out to be aberrant— that's the term you apparently use for people with special abilities— are you going to have to take me in? Weeks: You're not. I checked you out because you survived the slaying. You're… nothing special. Marshall: I'll take that as a compliment. Weeks: That's not— Marshall: If I was aberrant, you'd know. Was Greg… Weeks: Anomalous? We think so, given that he could… do stuff like teleport, and survive point-blank gunshot wounds. Marshall: …well, the killer's still out there. Think the FBI can handle it? Weeks: Maybe. But… something's bugging me. Marshall: What? Weeks: The sixth victim was killed using the body of the fifth victim, right? Crushed when the skylight broke. If these are strict copycats, then… god, this might be the third time I see another body used as a murder weapon. Marshall: I thought of that. I have a friend who works at the morgue, he padlocked the drawer where they kept the victim they found on top of the library. Family had them cremated a couple of days ago. Weeks: Maybe that'll break the streak, then, if the killer can't copy the deaths exactly. Marshall: That's my hope, but this guy seems oddly determined. There is a sound of glass breaking from behind Weeks. He turns to see a waitress at the diner falling into a pool of blood, struck on the head by a blunt object. A distinctive blue-and-black ring is on her right hand. The camera shows a grey, ash-like substance covering the floor, and a metal funerary urn by the body. The sound of a car driving off is heard. Weeks: The fuck?! Marshall stand and inspects the body of the waitress, putting her hand on the woman's neck to check for a pulse; she shakes her head. Marshall: Literally didn't know what hit her. Weeks: What was the name of the victim found on the rooftop? Marshall: Alice Kirby. Why? Weeks picks up the urn. The inscription on it reads "IN LOVING MEMORY OF ALICE"; however, it has been partially defaced with a flower-like sigil. Weeks: Well, shit. You didn't happen to get their plates, did you? Marshall: No. And what's worse, the pattern's changed. Weeks: How so? Marshall: The last few victims, with one exception, were cops. This was just some… random waitress in a diner. A crime of…. Marshall pauses. Marshall: They wanted me to see this. They're taunting me. Weeks: You can't— Marshall: Do you have some kind of a tracker on you? Weeks: …maybe? Why? Marshall: Get rid of it. They're tracking me through you. Weeks: Marshall, you're being paranoid. Marshall: Someone just fucking got killed with someone else's cremains, Weeks. There are… okay, assuming they're only copying people who died at the school, and not anyone else… we have three more chances to stop them. But we have to figure out a pattern in who they're targeting. Weeks: Do you know this woman? Marshall: She's about my age, so… I probably went to school with her. Actually… wait, that ring she has. Weeks: You recognize it? Marshall: It's an end-of-watch ring. Tradition some cops have, they're given out to family if they're killed in the line of duty. There's probably a date on it. Weeks puts on a pair of gloves and lifts the woman's wrist to inspect the ring. Weeks: 5/20/12. 'Miss you, dad'. Are any of the other victims related to the original kills? Marshall: …I hadn't even considered that. We all went to school together, and it's such a small town. Most of us might be cousins, honestly. Weeks: Let's check it out. Investigation found that all of the victims in the 2022 killings were related, either by blood or by marriage, to the original victims of the 2012 slaying. Abigail North's cousin Brandon had married into Gwendolyn Marshall's family in 2015. Gary Nicholson and Dave Wyatt were, respectively, first cousin of Arnold Jameson and step-brother of Max Parker. The two unidentified, cognitohazardous cadavers showed genetic markers which indicated that the female cadaver was an aunt of Eric Striker, and the male cadaver the uncle of Carlie Planter. Alice Kirby was Mandie Jones's half-sister, from another marriage. Suzanne Allan, the waitress whose death Weeks and Marshall witnessed, was the daughter of Mark Allan, the first victim among the HCPD. Working on this information, Weeks contacted the Foundation and attempted to render all living family members of the three remaining victims into protective custody. In the process, Marshall— who had agreed to wear a body camera on behalf of Weeks, in the event that they became separated— had the following encounter: Marshall is in Gardener's Grocery Store, the largest extant grocer in Hunter's Creek, having taken the place of Walker's following Arnoldson's spree. She is waiting to speak to the manager, Elliot Cameron, brother of Kyra Cameron, one of the final victims of the original spree. As she waits by the register, she is approached by Dr. Malcolm Robinson. Robinson is carrying a plastic grocery bag with a round object in it, possibly a watermelon. Dr. Robinson: Heard you caught a big break in the case, Wendy. Marshall: Don't call me that. I'm not your patient anymore. Dr. Robinson: Mm-hmm. But aren't we still friends? Marshall: …you lost your privileges to address me as anything other than "Ms. Marshall" at our last session. I still don't know what the fuck you were thinking. Dr. Robinson: It's been five years at this point, Wendy. Didn't we talk about moving past trauma? Marshall's hand obscures the body camera, briefly. An impact is heard, and when Marshall's camera turns on Robinson again, he is bleeding from his nose. Dr. Robinson: I suppose I do deserve that. Marshall: No shit. Leave me alone. Dr. Robinson shrugs and makes their way out the front door. Marshall is joined by Weeks approximately thirty seconds later. Weeks: Any idea why someone just walked out of here with a broken nose? Marshall: He decided to get smart with me. Marshall notices a bloodstain on the ground where Dr. Robinson was standing, approximately 10cm across. Marshall: Jesus. Didn't think I hit him that hard. He on blood thinners? Weeks: …his collar was barely red when I saw him. What the… Marshall's camera follows a trail of blood towards the manager's office. Weeks: …what the fuck? Weeks and Marshall make their way to the office. Within, they find a decapitated[COGNITOHAZARD REMOVED]. The spray from the decapitated body has formed a flower-like pattern on the ceiling. Marshall covers her camera. Weeks: …holy shit. That's… Marshall: Who we came here to find. Dammit. That must… wait, that has to mean that… my old therapist is a serial killer? Weeks: What? What sense does that make? Marshall: …okay, so I… there's something I need to tell you about Dr. Robinson. Weeks: I'm calling the feds first, then you can tell me everything you want. Interviewer: Dr. Malcolm Robinson Date of Interview: 09/07/2017 Session #: 157 Dr. Robinson: How do you do it? Marshall: Do what? Dr. Robinson: Less than four years as a P.I., and you hold a state record for missing persons found. Marshall: A lot of them just… were dumb kids who ran away from a bad situation. I helped get them out of it, to a degree. Dr. Robinson: What about the Saldego case? Marshall: Pure luck. Dr. Robinson: And am I to understand that you were shot? Twice? Marshall: They were flesh wounds. What are you getting at? Dr. Robinson: Do you believe that Gregory Arnoldson was normal, in life? Marshall: He was a fucking whackadoo who killed over fifteen people! How is that 'normal'?! Dr. Robinson: There exist certain archetypes in the world, ones that you and Gregory lined up with perfectly. Gregory was the hunter, the ultimate killer, the unbreakable knife, but somehow… somehow, he ended up dying to a woman. One he tried to kill, but ultimately survived. Someone who kept themselves and their lives private, until they rose up to the occasion and… Marshall: Is this a joke, or did you take shrooms while watching Cabin in the Woods back-to-back with Behind the Mask? My life is not a goddamn slasher movie. Dr. Robinson: I didn't say anything about it, but you did notice the parallels. You are a conduit, Gwendolyn. And I believe that, in the moment you slew Gregory, you obtained some of his power. Marshall: Go fuck yourself. I'm done. Dr. Robinson: Wendy, get back he— Recording is interrupted. Dr. Robinson: P-patient was… intensely… uncooperative. Project Ant Hill should be… should be suspended until… until further notice. Son of a bitch, I think she broke my fucking arm! Marshall and Weeks are in the former's office. Marshall's board has been updated to include a picture of Robinson. Marshall is looking through the room. Marshall: Someone's been in here. Weeks: What do you mean? Marshall: My gun's missing. Marshall picks up her chair, revealing torn tape underneath it. Marshall: And so is my spare. Shit. Robinson must know we've rumbled him. Marshall approaches a window with a flower box in it and opens it, inhaling the air from outside. Marshall: Did you know that in 2021, there was an average of one mass casualty incident— Weeks: Every twelve and a half hours, give or take. Yeah. I'm aware. Which is why I'm surprised you own guns, plural. Marshall: I only use it when I need it, and right now, I really need it. They're all gone, god dammit. Marshall turns to the board. Marshall: Robinson's a Global Founder too, isn't he? Weeks: …different department from me. But… Marshall: What the fuck got into him? And what's with… Marshall pins a photograph of the flower-like sigil found at the crime scenes on her board. Marshall: The hell is with this? Copycat killing where you mutilate the relatives I can see some sick logic behind, but… they call him the 'Wallflower Killer'. I used to call myself a wallflower a whole bunch. Is he… has he been taunting me this whole time? Weeks: …I need to look something up. Marshall: Go for it. Weeks pulls up the original SCP-8097 file, which concerns Gregory Arnoldson, reading the updated containment procedures. Weeks: Do you know where Arnoldson is buried? Marshall: Yeah, I visit there once a month to make sure nobody vandalizes his grave. Silence on the recording. Weeks is heard clearing his throat. Marshall's expression turns consternated. Marshall: I was hired to do it by his sister. It's the only steady paycheck I have at this point. Weeks: …he has a sister? Marshall: Julia. She lives in Oregon, so she's probably not in danger. Weeks: Where's he buried, Marshall? Marshall: Flower Street Cemetery. Right by the… western… wall. Several seconds of silence. Marshall: …can you look up where this sick motherfucker lives? Weeks: One sec. Weeks paces the room, searching on their phone for Dr. Robinsons whereabouts. He finds an address after several seconds. Weeks: Shit. He's literally across the street from it. Marshall: What?! Weeks: Apparently he bought an old funeral home? Fuck if I… look, we know where he is, and we gotta stop him. Marshall: I… don't think he's there, Allan. Weeks: What? Where do you think he is? Marshall nods over Weeks's shoulder. He turns, and sees Dr. Robinson standing behind him, holding a chef's knife, approximately 33cm in length. Dr. Robinson: You know, studies have shown that people are less likely to scream at the sight of a knife, as opposed to the sight of a gun. And this particular knife is… special. Weeks: Bullshit. The Genovese knife got melted down after that fiasco with O'Brien. Dr. Robinson: Ah, you have a discerning eye, Agent. This is only a replica, I'll grant you that. But a knife is a knife. Dr Robinson approaches Weeks. Weeks draws their weapon in response. Dr. Robinson: Allan. Stop Carrying Pistols. Agent Weeks drops their weapon as a memetic trigger phrase is spoken. Dr. Robinson: I'm not going to kill you, don't worry. You have no part in this ritual. But I do need to slow you down. Weeks: What ritual? Wendy, run! Dr. Robinson: Gwendolyn, if you climb out that window, his esophagus is going to get a clear view of the ceiling. Allan, Project Ant Hill was a disastrous failure because we couldn't replicate 8097's anomalous abilities. I didn't have anywhere else to go. They gave me a nice severance package, didn't even bother with the amnestics! But something like him only comes around once in a generation. Weeks: So, what, you're going to bring him back from the dead? He was cremated specifically to prevent that from happening, dumbass. Dr. Robinson: Oh, no. I'm not going to bring him back. But I'm going to make sure that his powers find a new vessel, finally, since it doesn't seem to have taken with this murder-obessed bi— A gunshot rings out, and Robinson suddenly clutches their shoulder, gasping in pain. Blood emerges from the wound as they clutch their shoulder Dr. Robinson: Wh— you paranoid bitch! I got all your guns! Marshall: Nobody thinks to look in the flower box. Robinson flees out of her office. Marshall discharges her weapon two more times, shattering the window on her door. Cursing, she approaches Weeks. Marshall: Allan, are you okay? Weeks: Yeah. We gotta follow him. If he can't get to the victims, he's in the endgame now. Marshall: The hell did you mean, 'the Genovese Knife'? Weeks: Well, that's a long story. The knife that was used to murder Kitty Genovese was an anomalous— Marshall: —was a hunting knife, not a kitchen knife. I've seen it in person. Weeks: …you know what? I'll ruminate on that later. I… look, if I try to pick up my gun right now, I'd literally have a blood vessel burst in my brain, long story. I can drive, though. Marshall: Let's head to this son-of-a-bitch's hideout. Time to end this. Marshall and Weeks pull up to 12 Flower Street. It is a large house, three storeys tall, converted from a funeral parlor into residential living space, with approximately 278m3 of interior space, constructed in the 1960s. Marshall is in the passenger's seat. Marshall: What's that Ant Hill thing he was talking about? Weeks: It's… there's a department where I work that focuses on trying to make humans into living weapons. Robinson was part of that department, and he thought that Arnoldson was naturally one of these. He also thought that the… condition was transmissible. Marshall How? Weeks: He theorized that Arnoldson's mother got it from accidentally hitting that pedestrian, and Arnoldson got it from her somehow. Marshall: …I knew Greg killed his mom. He started acting weird right after she died. But… I killed him. Weeks: And clearly that theory didn't stick, because you aren't… Silence on the recording. Weeks: …Tylenol with Everclear… Marshall: Let's talk about this later. Right now— The windshield shatters abruptly, and Marshall's dialog, and breathing, abruptly ceases. Weeks: Holy shit. W-Wendy? Marshall? Oh, fuck… holy shit, that… oh god, I'm… dammit. Robinson! Weeks dives out of their vehicle as more shots ring out. They are holding the replica knife that Robinson dropped earlier. Weeks: God, fucking memetics. Weeks takes cover at a corner of the house, attempting to pinpoint the location that he is being shot from. Frame analysis from this period of time indicates that Marshall has vanished from Weeks's vehicle; this is not acknowledge by Weeks. Weeks: Robinson! Come out and fight like a man, you son of a bitch! The fuck is he up to? Weeks attempts to gain entry into Robinson's house. The walls are covered by memorabilia related to true crime, including photographs of several serial murderers, and replicas of bladed and blunt weapons which were used in their sprees. Weeks: …shit, I need backup. Footsteps are heard overhead. Weeks makes their way to a staircase; however, they stop at the bottom. Weeks: A fucking tripwire? What's it connected to? Weeks follows the wire and discovers a wooden panel in the hallway is lose; behind it is a Claymore mine. Weeks disables it and continues upstairs. Weeks: You son of a bitch. You fucking psycho. All this for what? Just so you could try to gain his power? What does that accomplish? Weeks turns down the hallway, and sees Robinson in a far room, crouched over a sniper rifle. As he begins to approach, the door abruptly closes. Weeks: The hell? Dr. Robinson: H— who are— how did you— no, of course, it makes sense. You inaudible looked away for no more than inaudible seconds. It's miraculous, you— Screams ring out as Dr. Robinson's dialog is interrupted. Weeks attempts to open the door, but finds it blocked. Over a minute later, it opens, and Weeks finds Gwendolyn Marshall standing over a pile of eviscerated remains. The only aspect recognizable as Malcolm Robinson is his severed head, which Marshall is holding. Marshall is notably not covered in any blood spatter. Weeks: …Wendy… drop the head. Marshall: What, you think I'm going to kill you, Allan? After everything we've been through? Weeks: Considering you lied to me about being an anomaly… Marshall: To be fair, at first, I thought you were just. An amateur investigator. I thought that 'I have superpowers that make me good at being a serial killer' would be a hard sell. Marshall frowns. I guess this is the part where you take me in, then? Weeks: …I'm afraid so. Weeks takes out his phone. Marshall: Managed to keep this a secret for a decade. Of course you turn out to be— Marshall's eyeline is drawn to something on Weeks' chest. The body camera picks up a weak glow, as if from the screen of a phone. Marshall: …Allan… Weeks: What? Marshall: Run. Weeks turns to leave the room; as he does, his body camera becomes abruptly disconnected. Allan Weeks was later found, alive, in the trunk of his own vehicle; after-action testimony claims that Marshall (now designated SCP-8097-A) abruptly assaulted and subdued him, before fleeing to parts unknown. Currently, Marshall is at large, and is considered a Keter-class threat, due to the difficulty of tracking and containment. Footnotes 1. Due to the proliferation of violence at American schools, some institutions do assessments of how likely certain students—typically those with developmental disabilities, disciplinary issues, or failing academic grades—are to instigate mass casualty events. 2. A defunct video hosting website dedicated to hosting unedited footage of war, politics and world events to foster ‘civilian journalism’. 3. A small floral arrangement worn by men during formal occasions; the female equivalent is the corsage. 4. The Hunter’s Creek School District had illegally installed an array of microphones within the restrooms and locker rooms of its elementary, middle, and high schools, typically hidden within the PA system speakers. 5. This event is corroborated by police reports and school incident reports dated to 2005. 6. Absalom Renard was admitted into juvenile detention in 2010 for a spree of vandalism in Hunter's Creek and other nearby cities. 7. Diana Arnoldson, SCP-8097's mother, died in March 2012 after apparently injecting bleach into her veins instead of heroin. 8. It was determined in 2017 that Marshall had no anomalous properties; as such, no effort was made by Dr. Robinson to retain her as a 'client'. 9. Weeks was chosen in part because of his involvement with the True Crime community, having been a speaker at three small true crime conventions before and during his tenure in the Foundation. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8097" by Ihp, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8097. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: marshall2012-1.jpg Name: prom day 07 197 Author: 02 nation License: CC BY-SA 2.0 DEED Source Link: https://flickr.com/photos/1502/495456051 Additional Notes: (Optional) Filename: marshall2021-1.jpeg Name: Hi. Author: Lucíola Correia License: CC BY 2.0 DEED Source Link: https://www.flickr.com/photos/lucorreia/22566345007 Filename: Collins Middle School, September 2021.jpg Author: Fletcher License: CC 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Collins_Middle_School,_September_2021.jpg |
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padding: 2vw; } close Info X SCP-8097: Ƿ is for the Ƿaylaid Ƿallflower (Wynn is for the Waylaid Wallflower) ⚠️ Content warning: This article depicts the following: Harm towards students and teachers in a school setting. Mentions of mass shootings. Mentions of serial murderers. Mentions of a suicide attempt. ⚠️ content warning Item #: SCP-8097 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8097's body is being held for study for the next three years; once yearly, his cadaver is to be inspected for any anomalous properties. If none have manifested after five years, SCP-8097's remains are to be disposed of. Special Containment Procedures Addendum: As of June 2017, SCP-8097's remains have failed to display any anomalous properties, and as such, their body has been cremated, and their ashes have been interred in their family plot at the Flower Street Cemetery in Hunter's Creek. Description: SCP-8097 refers to Gregory Arnoldson, a seventeen-year-old spree killer of Swedish and Russian descent responsible for between twelve and fifteen deaths in the town of Hunter’s Creek, Massachusetts in May of 2012. Prior to his death, Arnoldson possessed an unknown quality and quantity of anomalous abilities which aided in his crimes. The only confirmed anomalous ability Arnoldson possessed was increased regenerative capabilities, to the point where twenty rounds from a Hunter’s Creek Police Department firearm failed to subdue them. Records kept by SCP-8097’s school, including a ‘shooter risk profile’1 show a wide range of behavioral issues, including vandalizing school property, assaulting other students, and ‘inappropriate involvement’ with a former art teacher. SCP-8097 was reported to have been abused by other family members, but these claims were never passed on to law enforcement, child services, or any other appropriate agency. On May 15th, 2012, SCP-8097 murdered a stocker at Walker’s Grocery Store in Hunter’s Creek and left their body on the loading dock behind the store; after security footage was uploaded to LiveLeak2 showing SCP-8097 avoiding all blood splatter while killing the subject in question by forcibly removing their jugular, the Foundation launched an investigation. Despite Foundation efforts, SCP-8097 would kill at least four more individuals leading up to May 20th, the night of Hunter’s Creek High School’s Senior Prom. At this event, he would kill seven more individuals. Three more bodies were discovered at his family home on May 21st, bringing his death toll to fifteen. Addendum: Timeline of Events, 5/20/2012: Archivist’s Note: Events confirmed by security camera footage or other electronic recording (i.e. computer records, photography, audio recording) are presented with bold timestamps. Events only attested by eyewitness testimony are indicated by underlined timestamps. 7:00 PM: Senior Prom officially commences at Hunter’s Creek High School. SCP-8097 is observed on security cameras, entering the premises and paying admission, displaying no abnormal behavior. They are wearing a pink boutonnière3, despite not having a date, and a black tuxedo. Other students avoid them; body language indicates that they detect a foul odor of some form. 7:00 PM: Students indicate that SCP-8097 had a strong odor of body spray around him, as if attempting to cover an unpleasant smell. 7:03 PM: The DJ begins playing their first set of music in the main gymnasium; fitting with the dance’s theme of ‘Crazy 80’s’, the song is Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cindi Lauper. 7:07 PM: SCP-8097 is seen on camera in the main gymnasium attempting to converse with a fellow student. After two minutes of conversation, the student breaks away. 7:09 PM: A student in a hot pink prom dress, identified as Gwendolyn “Wendy” Marshall, is seen on camera entering the women’s restroom on the first floor. 7:10 PM: SCP-8097 is seen entering the women’s restroom on the first floor. 7:18 PM: SCP-8097 is seen leaving the women’s restroom on the first floor. He appears to be sucking something off of his left index finger. Marshall, photographed approximately two hours prior to the attack. 7:19 PM: SCP-8097 is seen re-entering the women’s restroom. 7:20 PM: SCP-8097 is seen exiting the men’s restroom on the first floor. The two restrooms are separated by approximately 3m of corridor, and do not have adjacent walls. 7:22 PM: Another female student is seen attempting to enter the women’s restroom on the first floor, but finds the door locked. They shrug, and proceed to the one on the second floor. 7:30 or 7:32 PM: A pair of male students, one wearing a blue boutonnière, confront SCP-8097 by the buffet table outside the gymnasium. Records show these two individuals had been the subject of abuse by SCP-8097 for several years prior to this encounter. 7:34 PM: A pair of male students are seen walking away from the approximate location of the buffet table, their body language conveying disgust. SCP-8097 follows them, before cameras lose track of both parties as they vanish around a corner. 7:40 PM (approx): A student reports hearing the sounds of metal banging in one of the second-floor hallways, ‘as if a locker was being slammed shut over and over’, accompanied by a loud crunching sound on the last bang. Upon seeing a member of maintenance personnel on the balcony overlooking the lobby, they disregard the noise and return to their conversation. 7:42: A member of maintenance personnel, repairing a light fixture on the balcony, nods in acknowledgement as SCP-8097 passes. The custodian is wearing headphones. SCP-8097 leaves behind a visible shoe print, causing an annoyed reaction from the maintenance personnel. 8:00 PM: The second set of music begins, consisting largely of 1980s motion picture soundtracks. 8:10 PM: Voting for Prom King and Prom Queen begins, and ballot boxes are placed by the entrance to the auditorium. 8:12: SCP-8097 deposits votes for both Prom King and Prom Queen. 8:12 PM: Two students and one teacher note that the ballots SCP-8097 deposits appear to be wet. 8:23 PM: SCP-8097 goes to the DJ and requests a song to be played. The DJ is seen laughing and nodding, before they queue it up as the next song. 8:25 PM: The main theme from the horror film Prom Night begins to play. 8:35 PM: Two students, one male and one female, enter the women’s locker room. The female student is in a state of mild undress. Their left shoe is lost as they enter the locker room. 8:36 PM: SCP-8097 enters the women’s locker room, picking up the shoe as they go. 8:37 PM: Surveillance equipment within the locker room4 record the following audio: SCP-8097: Hey. Male Student: Wh— oh, unintelligible ck, Greg, what does y unintelligible ss want now? SCP-8097: An apology. Female Student: Unintelligible SCP-8097: You know for what, Carlie, you fucking whore. Sounds of altercation Sound of glass breaking Screaming Silence 8:42 PM: SCP-8097 emerges from the women’s locker room and attempts to deposit the female student’s shoe into a trash can; the heel of the shoe has a sheen to it, suggesting it is wet. However, the receptacle is over-full, and it falls out the other side. SCP-8097 is not seen on surveillance between 8:42 and 9:07 PM. However, student and teacher testimony records possible anomalous phenomena connected to SCP-8097. 8:47 PM: Maintenance personnel on the second floor reports seeing an eye looking out at him from Locker 244. Upon opening it with the master locker key, nothing is found. 8:49 PM: Several students attempt to enter the women’s bathroom on the first floor, knocking rapidly upon it. They are discouraged from doing so when the knocking is repeated from the other side of the door. 8:55 PM: (approx) A biology teacher reports hearing muffled moaning outside their second-floor classroom where they are grading papers. This room is adjacent to Locker 244. He notes that Locker 244 has been vandalized, with words scratched into the metal, reading: im ok dont st stop me 9:00 PM: A puddle of water is discovered by the bleachers near the women’s locker room. A student notes that the showers in the locker room occasionally leak. 9:07 PM: SCP-8097 reappears, emerging from the first-floor men’s bathroom. 9:12 PM: A chaperone discovers the shoe of the female student last seen entering the women’s locker room. 9:23 PM: The chaperone approaches the DJ in order to make an announcement about the lost shoe. 9:24 PM: SCP-8097 is heard conversing with the chaperone, telling her that he has seen the student to whom it belongs, and asks her to follow him. 9:28 PM: SCP-8097 is seen entering a staircase reading “ROOF ACCESS”. 9:42 PM: Surveillance in the school’s lobby shows an indistinct shape impacting on the skylight above the main entrance. The sound of glass straining is heard. 9:45 PM: SCP-8097 returns from the roof. They are no longer wearing a boutonnière. 9:47 PM: SCP-8097 emerges from the men’s bathroom on the first floor, wearing a blue boutonnière. 10:00 PM: Prom King and Prom Queen are announced as being Eric Striker and Carlie Planter, respectively. Neither of them approach the stage to collect their regalia. 10:00 PM: Several students jeer that they’re in the locker room. 10:03 PM: A student in a white prom dress enters the women’s locker room. 10:07 PM: The previous student exits the locker room, screaming and sobbing, rushing the stage and grabbing the DJ’s microphone, announcing that there are dead bodies in the locker room. 10:07 PM: While initially disbelieved, the look of horror on her face, combined with visible vomit and a panicked demeanor, convinces a chaperone to inspect the locker room. They confirm the student's findings. 10:08 PM: The maintenance personnel working on the second floor notices the door to locker 244 is slightly ajar. He opens it, and a corpse is partially dislodged. 10:08 PM: Photographs taken by the maintenance personnel immediately after opening the locker show that the corpse matches one of the two males who were antagonizing SCP-8097 earlier in the night. Its left hand appears to be fused to the locker door. A second, indistinct shape is bisected by the locker's shelving. 10:10 PM: Students are instructed to shelter in place within classrooms, and not to be out of the view of chaperones or teachers at any time. 10:20 PM: Police arrive. Two Foundation agents accompany them as ‘special FBI investigators’. 10:25 PM: Police notice the indistinct shape resting on the skylight. As they are trying to examine it, the glass shatters and the body of the chaperone falls through the skylight. The officer observing it is crushed by the falling body and killed. Part of a pink boutonnière is discovered in the chaperone’s hand. 10:30 PM: The Chief of Police declares a lockdown around Hunter’s Creek High School. 10:39 PM: The women’s restroom on the first floor is unlocked. Gwendolyn Marshall is retrieved from it, and placed into a body bag. She sits upright as the zipper is about to close around her head. 10:55 PM: Paramedics treat Marshall’s wounds. She recounts the events which occurred, naming SCP-8097 as the assailant. 10:59 PM: SCP-8097’s ballots for prom royalty are recovered from a trash can; both were wet, and were not counted. Both of them are written in blood. 11:03 PM: An officer patrolling the area discovers SCP-8097 in the school’s assembly hall, and draws their weapon. As they approach, they fire into SCP-8097’s center of mass. SCP-8097 does not seem to be affected by the bullets. 11:05 PM: SCP-8097 stabs the officer in the ear with what appears to be an audio cable. 11:13 PM: The school’s guidance counselor arrives on-scene, wanting to console the student body. The Chief of Police escorts her through the building. 11:27 PM: While passing by the biology classroom in the first floor corridor, the guidance counselor and chief of police hear a noise within. Both enter to investigate. 11:43 PM: SCP-8097 exits the biology classroom, holding an indistinct, somewhat spherical object in their left hand. A red fluid is dripping from it. 11:50 PM: Gwendolyn Marshall disappears from the triage area where she is being treated, and cannot be located after several minutes of searching. 11:57 PM: SCP-8097 enters the chemistry laboratory, and attempts to open several cabinets. Finding them locked, he exits the room to search for a key. 11:58 PM: Marshall enters through the other door to the chemistry laboratory, and locates a spare key hidden in the lab’s fume hood. She begins opening cabinets containing chemicals and lab equipment, hooking a hose to a gas faucet, as well as locating a lighter in the teacher’s desk. 11:59 PM: SCP-8097 re-enters the laboratory. Marshall, who is hiding behind the door, breaks a bottle of caustic liquid over their head. As they scream in pain, Marshall shoves him towards the hose and faucet, turning it on before igniting the lighter. As SCP-8097 begins to burn, Marshall retrieves a fire extinguisher to seemingly douse them. While she does so, immediately after the flames are extinguished, she begins beating him over the head with the canister of flame retardant. 12:03 AM, May 21st, 2012: Estimated time of death of SCP-8097. 12:06 AM: Marshall is discovered by members of the police department and pulled away from SCP-8097’s cadaver. Interviewer: Agent Adrienne Palmer Subject: Gwendolyn Marshall Date: 22/05/2012 Location of Interview: Hunter's Creek PD Holding Cells Marshall has been held in Hunter's Creek PD's Holding cells for over twenty-four hours. The only communication she has made during this time is the word 'Lawyer'. Palmer entered the holding cells at 01:32 PM, activating a hidden recording device on her clothing. Agent Palmer: Good afternoon. It's Wendy, right? Marshall: For the umpteenth time, give me a lawyer. Agent Palmer: I'm actually not police. One second. Palmer retrieves an identification badge for her cover identity. Agent Palmer: I'm with Suicide and Crisis Prevention. We're a non-profit organization dedicated to helping people in the aftermath of severe traumatic events. Natural disasters, terrorist attacks— Marshall: School shootings? Agent Palmer: Exactly. Marshall: Can I see your badge? Agent Palmer: Of course. Palmer places the badge on a portion of the cell meant for depositing meal trays, and pushes it halfway through. Marshall reads it and hands it back. Marshall: Okay. Are… are you going to record this? Agent Palmer produces a pen and notepad. Agent Palmer: I'm just going to take notes. I want to see if I can't recommend a good therapist in the area based off of what you tell me. Now, what can you tell me? Marshall: All right. Let me just… Marshall sits in her cell. Palmer pulls up her own chair. Marshall: Where do you want me to start? Agent Palmer: Who did you go to prom with? Marshall: Nobody. I… I just wanted to be there. Be around people. Agent Palmer: It's a twenty-dollar ticket. Pretty pricey for this part of the state. Marshall: Movie theater downtown has one screen and can't play anything newer than Jurassic Park. That costs the same, more if you get popcorn. Agent Palmer: Fair enough. Marshall: There was… there was someone there I wanted to ask to dance. Never got a chance to because… yeah. Agent Palmer: Because you were locked in the bathroom for most of the night? Marshall: Yep. Palmer's notes indicate that Marshall looked 'displeased, regretful, frustrated'. Marshall: I… I don't even know what happened. Agent Palmer: You have ligat— you have handprints around your neck. Marshall: I do? Marshall touches her neck at this point. An exclamation of pain is picked up on the microphone. Agent Palmer: The police believed he tried to strangle you, and didn't… Marshall: Finish the job? Agent Palmer: Essentially. Marshall: Okay, yeah, that… I was trying to find the guy I wanted to dance with. I was about to talk to him, when… when Greg came up to me. Agent Palmer: Greg being the… individual who caused this event. Marshall: Yep. I… okay, I gotta be honest? He… everyone knows he's fucked up. We've always known. Agent Palmer: How so? Marshall: Ms. Hipp, our fifth-grade teacher. She… when Greg got into her class in August, there were three hamsters in the cage there. One of them went missing in September. Its head was found in… in Mr. Power's desk.5 Ms. Hipp got rid of the hamsters after that. We all knew it was Greg that did it. Agent Palmer: He harmed animals? Marshall: And people. He was… he kept on pulling hair, hitting kids… he once nearly broke the arm of another kid. Absalom. He doesn't go here anymore, I think he's in juvie.6 Agent Palmer: So, he was always a bully? Marshall: Yep. It… I can't say it was his fault. His mom did awful things to him. He kept showing up to school with burns on the back of his hand. She died earlier this year. Agent Palmer: How? Marshall: I… think she OD'd.7 Agent Palmer: I see. Marshall: It… look, it doesn't matter. I… I can't even remember what the hell happened. He came up to me, and I went into the bathroom to get away from him. Next thing I know, I'm waking up halfway in a body bag. Agent Palmer: Didn't you have anyone to… get away to? Someone you felt safe around? Marshall: I don't have a lot of friends. I'm kind of a wallflower, honestly. Agent Palmer makes a note: 'who says 'wallflower' anymore?' Marshall: I don't mind it. I spend a lot of time reading and watching stuff. Mainly true crime. Agent Palmer: Sorry, what's true crime? Marshall: Lizzie Borden, Ed Gein, Ed Kemper… or more modern stuff like the Brockton Bay Binder. Analysis of actual real-life crime stuff. It… I thought it was fun. Agent Palmer: Does this… hobby of yours include mass-casualty events? Marshall: Yeah. That's why I don't think it's fun anymore. Because… when I saw one of the bodies, I realized something. Agent Palmer: What? Marshall: Do you know who Charles Manson is? Agent Palmer: Of course. Cult leader whose followers— Marshall: Do you remember anyone his cult killed? Their names I mean. Agent Palmer: Sh— Marshall: Other than Sharon Tate. Several seconds of silence. Marshall: Can you remember the names of anyone who died at Columbine? Can you name a single person Rodney Alcala killed? Henry Lee Lucas? Hell, Jodi Arias— she was massive when I was in junior high! And everyone talks about her, but nobody, nobody remembers the name Travis Alexander! All of these horrible, horrible people… Palmer makes a note: 'subject seems transfixed with the concept of violent individuals'. Marshall: And nobody remembers the people that they killed. Just that they killed people. That's what's going to happen here. Agent Palmer: Do you feel… guilty about that? Marshall: Why would I feel guilty? I'm pissed off. I want to look him in the eyes at his trial and read out the names of everyone he killed. Agent Palmer: His… trial? Marshall: There's evidence all over the place. And I'm a pretty good witness. He's totally going to be executed. Feel sorry for his sister, though; wonder who's going to take care of her. Agent Palmer: You… don't know? Marshall: What? Agent Palmer: Gregory Arnoldson is… dead. Marshall: What?! When? Did he fucking— what did he do?! Agent Palmer: Ms. Marshall, you killed him. You don't remember? Marshall: …no. There… Marshall inspects her prom dress, noting discoloration from exposure to acid. She looks at the hem of her dress, which is slightly carbonized. Marshall: There's no way. There's… I can't have. No, I… I would remember it. I would… Oh God, is that why I'm here? The— the police won't tell me anything. Agent Palmer: Killing someone is highly traumatic, Ms. Marshall. But I don't think you have to worry. If anything, you're… you're a hero. Marshall: Why can't I remember it? What the hell? And… if I killed him… why isn't there any blood on my dress? Agent Palmer writes a note: 'dress does appear to have minimal blood spatter. anomaly hematokinetic?' Agent Palmer: I'll put you in contact with a therapist in the area. I'm going to stop at the vending machines before I leave; can I get you anything? Marshall: Uh. I-I feel… I'm gonna be sick. Agent Palmer: They have Sprite. I find that settles the stomach. Marshall: Please. Agent Palmer: Of course. Be right back. Agent Palmer exits the room and finds a secluded area to make final notes. Agent Palmer: Marshall has experienced severe trauma and appears to have either suppressed the memory of the murder, or else entered a 'blackout' state where the memory did not form. Furthermore, due to the fact that Marshall was unconscious and incapable of witnessing the majority of the anomaly's rampage, including any apparent anomalous activity, I am not recommending amnestic treatment at this time, as it would be a… a waste of resources. Marshall is heard loudly retching in the background. However, reports of Ms. Marshall's heroism have already been reported in the media, with the New York Post publishing a leaked image from the school's surveillance system showing Marshall terminating the anomaly. It is infeasible to contain the information that she is responsible for resolving a mass casualty event. As such, I am recommending that she be sent to a Foundation counselor operating at a civilian psychiatric practice so she may be monitored further. End recording. Selected Therapy Session Excerpts RE: POI-8097-001 (Gwendolyn Marshall) Interviewer: Dr. Malcolm Robinson Date of Interview: 07/02/2012 Session #: 3 Dr. Robinson: Come on in, Wendy. How are you feeling? POI-8097-001: I'm… not doing too great. Dr. Robinson: What's wrong? POI-8097-001: I've applied to seven different colleges, and none of them want me. Apparently, I'm a— POI-8097-001 makes quotation marks with her fingers. "controversial figure" and they don't want anything to do with me. Like, how the fuck is that fair? I don't even remember what the hell I did! Dr. Robinson: Where have you applied? POI-8097-001: U of M Amhearst. Bridgewater. Tufts, Bently, Cambridge. Dr. Robinson: Not trying out for Harvard or MIT? POI-8097-001: Harvard was my dream school. I wanted to go into their criminology major. But I have literal blood on my hands, and the prestigious institution that it is doesn't want someone like me going there. Dr. Robinson: That hardly seems fair. What were you planning on doing with the degree? POI-8097-001: Was planning on getting into Quantico. Dr. Robinson: FBI? That's not a bad career path. POI-8097-001: Yeah. But then I got to experience it first-hand. Silence on the recording. POI-8097-001: I didn't even see that much. I have nightmares of him pinning me down and… POI-8097-001 rubs her neck and gasps softly. POI-8097-001: I don't even know what he did to me. But… I don't think he was… he was normal. Dr. Robinson: He was mentally disturbed, yes— POI-8097-001: Not what I mean. I… I was locked in the restroom. It only locks from the inside, and there's no other way out. He'd have to walk through a wall to get out of there. And he killed half a dozen more people before… POI-8097-001 lets out a soft sob. POI-8097-001: Why can't I remember killing him? Why… why don't I remember? Dr. Robinson: It's normal for people to suppress memories of traumatic events. POI-8097-001: It's like… I wasn't even there. But I had to have had… some presence of mind. I poured acid on him and set him on fire. What kind of psychopath… Dr. Robinson: Let me stop you there. I've treated actual psychopaths. You're not one, I can tell you that. You're someone who's gone through trauma, and that can leave you isolated and scared. Tissue? POI-8097-001: Please. POI-8097-001 is heard blowing her nose and sobbing further. POI-8097-001: What if I turn out like him? Dr. Robinson: I don't think mental illness is transmissible like that. POI-8097-001: There was… people thought that Greg killed his mom. His mom might have run over someone with a car a few years back. What if there's some kind of… I don't know. What if I kill someone next, keep the cycle going? Dr. Robinson: You're an intelligent young woman, Wendy. You have a bright future ahead of you. And I'm going to help you achieve it. Part of our counseling services here include helping people find jobs and get into school. If you want, I could set you up with one of our life counselors. [Approximately thirty-eight minutes of irrelevant data has been expunged.] POI-8097-001: You're not from here, are you, doc? Dr. Robinson: I'm afraid not. But this seems like a fairly nice town. POI-8097-001: It's a small town. Everyone knows everyone else here. But… ever since it happened, nobody's been willing to talk about it. We held a big memorial service during graduation, but… none of the people Greg fucking killed were even named. They just showed their pictures, like that was enough. I want their names to be remembered. Dr. Robinson: What were their names? POI-8097-001: Arnold Jameson. Max Parker. Carlie Planter. Eric Striker. Mandie Jones, she… she was the chaperone who was on the roof. Officer Mark Allan. Officer Nigel Jay. Chief Landon Hunter. Ms. Kyra Cameron, she… she was the guidance counselor. I… I miss her. Dr. Robinson: Were you close to any of them? POI-8097-001: Not really. Just kept my head down and didn't make many friends. Ms. Cameron was nice to me when I went to see her. Dr. Robinson: Did you see her a lot? POI-8097-001: Once or twice a month. I… the school said I had a tendency to 'behave inappropriately' in class. Dr. Robinson: How so? POI-8097-001: I'd laugh when I wasn't supposed to. Would work on my homework during silent reading. Sometimes I'd fall asleep in first period— school starts at goddamn seven in the morning, what do they expect? But she was understanding. She wasn't one of those counselors who just… pretended to give a shit for their paycheck. Everyone remembers the maniac who brutalizes a school. But nobody remembers the people who he killed. They blend into the background. Like I always did. That's not fair. These people shouldn't be wallflowers for the rest of time. They deserve to be remembered. Dr. Robinson: How do you aim to do that? POI-8097-001: …I don't know. Dr. Robinson: Something to think about for our next session, then. Good seeing you again, Wendy. Same time next week? POI-8097-001: Two weeks. Going out of town with my family starting on the fifth. Dr. Robinson: Of course. Happy 4th, by the way. POI-8097-001: You as well. Photo of POI-8097, retrieved from the Facebook page of Gwendolyn Marshall's Private Investigation service circa 2021 Item #: SCP-8097 Special Containment Procedures: Investigation into SCP-8097 is currently underway. The cadavers of the victims have not displayed any anomalous properties, and as such, containment efforts are currently focusing on investigation into POI-8097. Description: SCP-8097 refers to an unknown subject responsible for four anomalous murders in Hunter's Creek, Massachusetts. The connection between each of these deaths is evident in the presence of a sigil of unknown significance at each of the murders, always painted on the wall opposite of where the cadaver is discovered. Due to the fact that these sigils bear a resemblance to flowers, the media has dubbed SCP-8097 the 'Wallflower Killer'. Each murder committed, to date, mirrors methods used by the previous SCP-8097 iteration, Gregory Arnoldson, in a mass casualty event on May 20th, 2012. Furthermore, the attacks exclusively target survivors of the 2012 incident, with the first four victims consisting of three students and one teacher. Currently, the most likely candidate for SCP-8097 is Gwendolyn Marshall (POI-8097), a survivor of the Arnoldson incident. Since 2014, Marshall has worked as a private investigator within ███████ County, operating out of Hunter's Creek following her failure to enter any institution of higher learning. Marshall had been in contact with two of the four victims through a support group which she had helped create in 2017. Foundation agent Allan Weeks, posing as an FBI Special Agent, was dispatched to interview Marshall. Agent Weeks activates his body camera within 17 West Main Street. They are on the second floor, before a door with a frosted glass window. Text on the window reads: "Gwen Marshall, Private Investigator. Marital Disputes, Lost Items, Runaways." Weeks knocks on the door. Marshall: For god's sake, Gary, I told you, I'll have the rent tomo— Weeks: Miss Marshall, I'm with the FBI. Silence from the other side of the door. It opens several seconds later. Marshall is twenty-seven years old, pale, with green eyes and unkempt brown hair. She is wearing a T-Shirt which says "CrimeCon2019" and a pair of blue jeans. A pistol is at her left side, secured in a holster. Marshall: What do you want? Weeks: I think we both know what I want. I want to talk about the Wallflower killings. Marshall laughs. Marshall: You think I'm doin' it, don't you? Weeks: I… Marshall: Look. You ain't the first person to think that. It's a small town, and word gets around. Psycho's goin' around killing survivors of the massacre, has to be the crazy chick who's obsessed with true crime. She shakes her head. My old therapist even popped back into my life to see if I was 'doing okay'8. I fired him five years ago, and he still thinks he has a say in my life. Weeks: Look, Miss Marshall, I just… this is the most prolific serial killer that Massachusetts has seen since— Marshall: Since Alfred Gaynor. I know. I share a birthday with him— December 10th. Weeks: Then you understand why the FBI has an interest in this? Marshall: Why send only one person, then? Why don't you have a team with you? Weeks: I… I'm here to assess the situation. Marshall: Let me see some identification. Weeks: Of course. Weeks hands Marshall a counterfeit FBI badge, supplied by the Foundation. Marshall: …Got a bridge to sell me too? Weeks: What? Marshall: The FBI stopped using this seal back in '07, and it hasn't used this style of serial number since the '90s. Who are you, really? Bear in mind impersonating a fed can get you three years behind bars. Weeks sighs. Weeks: Okay, you got me. I'm a true crime junkie, like you.9 The FBI… they're not interested in this yet. I'm hoping to help get them interested. Marshall: And… you thought the best way to do that was… playing Agent Mulder? Weeks: Okay, when you put it like that… Marshall: Name one of Rodney Alcala's victims. Weeks: Try three. Charlotte Lamb, Jill Parenteau, Robin Samsoe. Marshall: How many times was Travis Alexander stabbed? Weeks: 27 to 29. Maybe 30 if you count the throat being slit, on top of the gunshot wound. Marshall: How did AJ Fader die? Weeks: Stabbed himself in the eye. Nobody knows why. Marshall: …okay, so you know your stuff. Let's talk. Marshall invites Weeks into her office. A pair of office chairs sit on either side of a medium-sized folding table with a laptop on it. Behind it is a blank whiteboard; Marshall spins the board around to reveal several photographs, documents, and lines of dry-erase ink making up a tableau which documents the murders committed by SCP-8097. Weeks: Jesus. Marshall: I… was hired to tail the first victim. Abigail North. She was captain of the cheer team. Her husband thought she was cheating on him, and when she… I found the body. She was strangled. Weeks: Like you were. Marshall: Yeah. But that's the thing. Second and third victims, Gary Nicholson and Dave Wyatt, were cut up and stuffed into some lockers at the furniture factory. Fourth vic, Mrs. Kirby— that is, Alice Kirby, she used to teach algebra— was found on the roof of the library, with pink flowers in one hand. Weeks: Identical to the original murders. Marshall: Not quite. Nicholson and Wyatt, they were cut up into chunks so they could fit into the locker; Max and Arnold, the victims they're meant to correspond to, they were dismembered and decapitated, not chopped up. And Mandie Jones, who was found on the roof— she was the fifth person murdered. Third and Fourth were Eric and Carlie. Weeks: And then there's the fact that… well, you survived. Marshall: I'm kinda creeped out that you're familiar with my case, but yeah. They're meant to look like a copycat, but they're gettin' stuff wrong, and not just the geographical details. So… Marshall picks up a marker and draws a question mark in between the third and fourth victims. Marshall: Either they skipped two on purpose, or we're missing two victims. Weeks: Hopefully it's the former. Now, you said that the second and third were found in a locker room, third on the library… Marshall: There's a skylight there, like at the school. Abigail was found in the bathroom of the movie theater. They're mimicking general locations, not so much exact details. Weeks: Striker and Planter were killed in a locker room… where all have the authorities searched? Marshall: I go to the rec every day to work out and haven't found a body yet. Same with the pool, and the new high school. Weeks: Sorry… new high school? Marshall: They shuttered the old one after what Greg did. It's still standing there, in the middle of a field. Marshall falls silent, turning to face Weeks. Marshall: You don't think… Weeks: I'm already impersonating a federal officer. Why not add trespassing to the list? Marshall: I think I kinda like you. Weeks and Marshall have crawled under a hole in the fence surrounding the former Hunter’s Creek High School. The school has been shuttered since mid-2012, but has not been demolished, due to a lack of funds allocated by the ███████ County commissioner’s office. Power was shut off in early 2013, and despite the security measures (a two-and-a-half-meter tall fence surrounding the property, irregular patrols by the Hunter’s Creek Police Department, a single security camera at the northern end of the perimeter), it is regularly broken into and vandalized. Weeks: You do this a lot? Marshall: Can’t tell you how many junkies I’ve found here. No budget to tear it down, no budget to keep it safe either. I actually have a stash of narcan in my old locker, just in case. Weeks: They never even took out the lockers? Marshall: They took out one. For crime scene analysis. Weeks: Right. They approach the front entrance of the school. It is covered by wooden boards, which are secured in place by a chain. Marshall: Shit. They replaced the boards since last time. Weeks: Now what? Marshall steps back and scans the area. Marshall: Give me a boost. I can get in through the second floor, and open a window down here. Hunter's Creek High School Building, photographed in 2010 Weeks: They’re big enough? Marshall: This was built back in ‘02. Architect was from Colorado. Weeks: What’s that got to do with— Marshall: He figured schools could use more escape routes, so he made the windows big enough to be climbed out of. Weeks:…ah. Gotcha. Weeks assist Marshall into the second-floor window. She climbs in. Weeks: Hold up! Weeks throws Marshall a radio. She catches it midair. Marshall: Seriously? Huh. This is serious stuff. Weeks: Two-mile range. Military surplus. Marshall: I’ll let you in, gimme ten. Marshall disappears into the school. Week’s radio blares static, before she speaks. Marshall: Testing. Weeks: I hear ya. What’s it look like? Marshall: Abandoned. Bringing back bad memories, but what else is new? Weeks: School doesn’t agree with a lot of kids. Marshall: There's more to it than that. Schools are designed to give scars. You have rules that punish bullied kids for trying to fight back. You have principals and superintendents being hired from the military or the department of corrections. You have curricula that teach propaganda and mythology as undisputed fact, and discourages debate. The day before prom, it was announced that the football team would get a $100,000 grant to get new gear and fix up the locker room — only the boy’s locker room, keep in mind — while the rest of the school district didn’t even have air conditioning. Weeks: Same story everywhere in the country, Marshall. Marshall emerges from the window in front of Weeks. Marshall: Just because it’s raining shit everywhere doesn’t mean I have to like the smell. Weeks: …I didn’t hear you take the stairs. Over the radio, I mean. Marshall: I have quiet shoes. Come in. Weeks enters the building, entering a dilapidated classroom. Desks are absent, but the whiteboard up front remains intact. The words “GrEG LIVS”[sic] are written in permanent marker upon the board. Marshall turns on a flashlight. Marshall: Okay, locker room is this way. Weeks: They took the desks, but not the lockers? Huh. Marshall: Lockers have to fit in the hallways, desks are one-size-fits-all. Marshall and Weeks walk onwards, into the hallway. The school is heavily dilapidated, with several parts of the modular ceiling having crumbled. A burst pipe has led to a large amount of mold growing on the floor. They round the corner into the atrium of the building, and head north, down the hallway leading to the gymnasium. Marshall: Look at that. Marshall points her flashlight to a bootprint on the floor. Weeks: Men’s size ten, I’d say. When did it last rain? Marshall: About a week ago. Hold on. Marshall photographs the bootprint using her phone’s camera. Weeks: Ain’t gonna get good quality outta that. Marshall: I left my Nikon at home. Weeks and Marshall proceed further in. Several other bootprints are present, eventually leading them into the men’s locker room. Within, [COGNITOHAZARD EXPUNGED]. A sigil of a flower, painted in blood, surrounds the bodies. To prevent the cognitohazard from being recorded, Weeks turns off his camera. Weeks: Jesus Christ! Marshall: They… what… what’s wrong with their… why are their bodies… Weeks: Fucking… don’t photograph it! Marshall: Why? Weeks: Just… trust me on this. Now, I… I think we have enough to get the FBI involved. Fucking Christ. The Boston branch of the Unusual Incidents Unit was contacted, and several technicians trained in handling anomalous remains conducted an autopsy in situ. They concluded that the state of the cadavers matched that of the third and fourth victims of the original Hunter’s Creek Mass Casualty incident. As of May 8th, 2022, SCP-8097 remains at large. Selected Therapy Session Excerpts RE: POI-8097-001 ("Gwendolyn Marshall") Interviewer: Dr. Malcolm Robinson Date of Interview: 09/12/2013 Session #: 67 Dr. Robinson: Word about town is that we have a new P.I. POI-8097-001: Not yet. I'm going down to Boston for an apprenticeship for a few months. Then I have to take a few exams, and then I take a certification. Dr. Robinson: Why become a private investigator, though? I suppose it's the closest thing to an FBI agent available. POI-8097-001: That's… one way to put it, I guess. Mainly, I just… I kind of have this itch. Dr. Robinson: What do you mean? POI-8097-001: I just… feel a bit restless. Have been since the… since last year. I feel like I need to pursue something… something useful. Dr. Robinson: No luck with college, still? POI-8097-001: Nearest place that will accept me is in goddamn Ohio. But honestly? Becoming a P.I. means I don't have to go into eternal debt. Dr. Robinson: No scholarship programs are available, I suppose? POI-8097-001: Turns out that when you're not in any clubs, teams, or anything else extracurricular, on top of being a fucking murderer, colleges don't want to offer you so much as a handshake. Dr. Robinson: That doesn't seem fair. POI-8097-001: It's what I live with. Perks of being a fucking wallflower. Dr. Robinson: You keep on using that word to describe yourself. Do you think that's accurate? That you're introverted? POI-8097-001: There's more to it than that. I'm… beneath notice. One of my earliest memories was mom breaking the windows of the SUV to get me out because she had left me in the car on a hot summer day and forgot about me. Sometimes I wish she had just… left me in there. Dr. Robinson: Is being beneath notice a bad thing in your new line of work? POI-8097-001: No, I guess not, but… I feel like everything that happened at prom just got swept under the rug. High school's still closed, Greg's ashes are scattered in the woods somewhere, and… people don't talk about it anymore. Sandy Hook and the other dozen mass shootings we've had since then have overshadowed it. Laughter is heard. I've been banned from Wikipedia seven times because I'm trying to maintain a page about the thing. You know what they call it? A 'Mass Casualty Incident'. Not a shooting, or a stabbing, or a slaying. Ten people dead, and they call it an 'Incident'. Twice I was banned because I tried to add a list of the victims. It's like… nobody wants to remember them. Dr. Robinson: Seems to run counter to your… hobby. POI-8097-001: What, you mean true crime? Anyone who says they're a 'fan' of that is a goddamn ghoul, as far as I'm concerned. They can give me their opinions on what makes a serial killer tick when they have a degree in criminal psychology, and not a fucking second sooner. Everyone cares about the spectacle. Nobody cares about who died. Sighing is heard. I can't even bring myself to feel angry about it. It's just… that's just the way the world works. When you need help the most, the world fails you. Dr. Robinson: Do you feel as if I'm failing you? POI-8097-001: …I've been coming here for over a year, doc. I'm wondering when the healing starts. Dr. Robinson: In that case, we can try something next session. Have you ever heard of EMDR? POI-8097-001: I don't listen to Skrillex. Dr. Robinson: …pardon? POI-8097-001: EDM? Electronic dance music? Techno? Dr. Robinson: Oh, no. EMDR is a form of therapy that focuses on letting one process trauma through repeated left-right-left-right stimuli. Let me give you some material on it, one moment… Following the discovery of a pair of cognitohazardous cadavers at the former Hunter's Creek High School, Agent Weeks and Marshall contacted the Federal Bureau of Investigation. However, Marshall was unsatisfied with the outcome of events. Marshall and Weeks are at Jerry's, a local 24 hour diner, shortly after sunset. Marshall has ordered a relatively large meal, with a rare steak, coffee, and a slice of cherry pie. Weeks has ordered a cup of coffee and a plate of chicken fingers. Marshall: What was wrong with the bodies? Weeks: I… I don't know. Marshall: But there was something wrong with them, right? Weeks: Yeah. It… they shouldn't have looked like that. They couldn't have. Right? Marshall: Who are you really? Weeks: Sorry? Marshall: You carry around military-grade radios, you have counterfeit FBI badges, you know your shit when it comes to true crime… you know how hard it is for people to even talk about what happened at the school around here? It's like there's a mental block. One that you don't seem to have. Weeks: I'm… not sure what you… Weeks is silent for several seconds. Weeks: Oh, son of a bitch. Marshall: What? Weeks: There aren't any memorials to what happened around here? None at all? Marshall: None. I've always thought it was… odd. Like, I've studied trauma in communities affected by mass tragedies, ranging from Columbine to Parkland, and there's always some kind of memorial. I tried to organize one a few years ago, and didn't even get a dozen signatures on the petition. There's something wrong here. Weeks: …Tell me the names of the victims again. Marshall: Arnold Jameson. Max Parker. Carlie Planter. Eric Striker. Mandie Jones. Officer Mark Allan. Officer Nigel Jay. Chief Landon Hunter. Ms. Kyra Cameron. Weeks attempts to write down the names as Marshall says them. Their pen records unintelligble scribbling. Weeks: …son of a bitch, they're anti-memetic. Marshall: Anti-what? Back up, what are you talking about? Weeks: That's a… really long story, Marshall. Marshall: …holy shit. You're with the Founders, aren't you? Weeks: The— what? Marshall: The Global Founders. Parawatch claims they're a conspiracy that rules the world, like the Illuminati if they were on steroids and managed to lock god up in a cell. I remember seeing the word 'antimemetic' on a thread about them. It means 'can't be remembered', right? Weeks: …fucking Parawatch of all things. Yeah, that's exactly what it means. But if I can remember the victims… Marshall: That means that the killer is a copycat. Also, are you actually part of the… Weeks: If I told you, Wendy, I'd have to kill you. Marshall: Good fucking luck, Allan. Weeks: I mean it. Marshall: After I got my last rejection letter from college, I tried Tylenol with an Everclear chaser. Gave me indigestion. Weeks: A potassium overdose wouldn't show up on an autopsy. Marshall: …okay, so let's say you are part of the Global Founders, but can't tell me. If I turn out to be aberrant— that's the term you apparently use for people with special abilities— are you going to have to take me in? Weeks: You're not. I checked you out because you survived the slaying. You're… nothing special. Marshall: I'll take that as a compliment. Weeks: That's not— Marshall: If I was aberrant, you'd know. Was Greg… Weeks: Anomalous? We think so, given that he could… do stuff like teleport, and survive point-blank gunshot wounds. Marshall: …well, the killer's still out there. Think the FBI can handle it? Weeks: Maybe. But… something's bugging me. Marshall: What? Weeks: The sixth victim was killed using the body of the fifth victim, right? Crushed when the skylight broke. If these are strict copycats, then… god, this might be the third time I see another body used as a murder weapon. Marshall: I thought of that. I have a friend who works at the morgue, he padlocked the drawer where they kept the victim they found on top of the library. Family had them cremated a couple of days ago. Weeks: Maybe that'll break the streak, then, if the killer can't copy the deaths exactly. Marshall: That's my hope, but this guy seems oddly determined. There is a sound of glass breaking from behind Weeks. He turns to see a waitress at the diner falling into a pool of blood, struck on the head by a blunt object. A distinctive blue-and-black ring is on her right hand. The camera shows a grey, ash-like substance covering the floor, and a metal funerary urn by the body. The sound of a car driving off is heard. Weeks: The fuck?! Marshall stand and inspects the body of the waitress, putting her hand on the woman's neck to check for a pulse; she shakes her head. Marshall: Literally didn't know what hit her. Weeks: What was the name of the victim found on the rooftop? Marshall: Alice Kirby. Why? Weeks picks up the urn. The inscription on it reads "IN LOVING MEMORY OF ALICE"; however, it has been partially defaced with a flower-like sigil. Weeks: Well, shit. You didn't happen to get their plates, did you? Marshall: No. And what's worse, the pattern's changed. Weeks: How so? Marshall: The last few victims, with one exception, were cops. This was just some… random waitress in a diner. A crime of…. Marshall pauses. Marshall: They wanted me to see this. They're taunting me. Weeks: You can't— Marshall: Do you have some kind of a tracker on you? Weeks: …maybe? Why? Marshall: Get rid of it. They're tracking me through you. Weeks: Marshall, you're being paranoid. Marshall: Someone just fucking got killed with someone else's cremains, Weeks. There are… okay, assuming they're only copying people who died at the school, and not anyone else… we have three more chances to stop them. But we have to figure out a pattern in who they're targeting. Weeks: Do you know this woman? Marshall: She's about my age, so… I probably went to school with her. Actually… wait, that ring she has. Weeks: You recognize it? Marshall: It's an end-of-watch ring. Tradition some cops have, they're given out to family if they're killed in the line of duty. There's probably a date on it. Weeks puts on a pair of gloves and lifts the woman's wrist to inspect the ring. Weeks: 5/20/12. 'Miss you, dad'. Are any of the other victims related to the original kills? Marshall: …I hadn't even considered that. We all went to school together, and it's such a small town. Most of us might be cousins, honestly. Weeks: Let's check it out. Investigation found that all of the victims in the 2022 killings were related, either by blood or by marriage, to the original victims of the 2012 slaying. Abigail North's cousin Brandon had married into Gwendolyn Marshall's family in 2015. Gary Nicholson and Dave Wyatt were, respectively, first cousin of Arnold Jameson and step-brother of Max Parker. The two unidentified, cognitohazardous cadavers showed genetic markers which indicated that the female cadaver was an aunt of Eric Striker, and the male cadaver the uncle of Carlie Planter. Alice Kirby was Mandie Jones's half-sister, from another marriage. Suzanne Allan, the waitress whose death Weeks and Marshall witnessed, was the daughter of Mark Allan, the first victim among the HCPD. Working on this information, Weeks contacted the Foundation and attempted to render all living family members of the three remaining victims into protective custody. In the process, Marshall— who had agreed to wear a body camera on behalf of Weeks, in the event that they became separated— had the following encounter: Marshall is in Gardener's Grocery Store, the largest extant grocer in Hunter's Creek, having taken the place of Walker's following Arnoldson's spree. She is waiting to speak to the manager, Elliot Cameron, brother of Kyra Cameron, one of the final victims of the original spree. As she waits by the register, she is approached by Dr. Malcolm Robinson. Robinson is carrying a plastic grocery bag with a round object in it, possibly a watermelon. Dr. Robinson: Heard you caught a big break in the case, Wendy. Marshall: Don't call me that. I'm not your patient anymore. Dr. Robinson: Mm-hmm. But aren't we still friends? Marshall: …you lost your privileges to address me as anything other than "Ms. Marshall" at our last session. I still don't know what the fuck you were thinking. Dr. Robinson: It's been five years at this point, Wendy. Didn't we talk about moving past trauma? Marshall's hand obscures the body camera, briefly. An impact is heard, and when Marshall's camera turns on Robinson again, he is bleeding from his nose. Dr. Robinson: I suppose I do deserve that. Marshall: No shit. Leave me alone. Dr. Robinson shrugs and makes their way out the front door. Marshall is joined by Weeks approximately thirty seconds later. Weeks: Any idea why someone just walked out of here with a broken nose? Marshall: He decided to get smart with me. Marshall notices a bloodstain on the ground where Dr. Robinson was standing, approximately 10cm across. Marshall: Jesus. Didn't think I hit him that hard. He on blood thinners? Weeks: …his collar was barely red when I saw him. What the… Marshall's camera follows a trail of blood towards the manager's office. Weeks: …what the fuck? Weeks and Marshall make their way to the office. Within, they find a decapitated[COGNITOHAZARD REMOVED]. The spray from the decapitated body has formed a flower-like pattern on the ceiling. Marshall covers her camera. Weeks: …holy shit. That's… Marshall: Who we came here to find. Dammit. That must… wait, that has to mean that… my old therapist is a serial killer? Weeks: What? What sense does that make? Marshall: …okay, so I… there's something I need to tell you about Dr. Robinson. Weeks: I'm calling the feds first, then you can tell me everything you want. Interviewer: Dr. Malcolm Robinson Date of Interview: 09/07/2017 Session #: 157 Dr. Robinson: How do you do it? Marshall: Do what? Dr. Robinson: Less than four years as a P.I., and you hold a state record for missing persons found. Marshall: A lot of them just… were dumb kids who ran away from a bad situation. I helped get them out of it, to a degree. Dr. Robinson: What about the Saldego case? Marshall: Pure luck. Dr. Robinson: And am I to understand that you were shot? Twice? Marshall: They were flesh wounds. What are you getting at? Dr. Robinson: Do you believe that Gregory Arnoldson was normal, in life? Marshall: He was a fucking whackadoo who killed over fifteen people! How is that 'normal'?! Dr. Robinson: There exist certain archetypes in the world, ones that you and Gregory lined up with perfectly. Gregory was the hunter, the ultimate killer, the unbreakable knife, but somehow… somehow, he ended up dying to a woman. One he tried to kill, but ultimately survived. Someone who kept themselves and their lives private, until they rose up to the occasion and… Marshall: Is this a joke, or did you take shrooms while watching Cabin in the Woods back-to-back with Behind the Mask? My life is not a goddamn slasher movie. Dr. Robinson: I didn't say anything about it, but you did notice the parallels. You are a conduit, Gwendolyn. And I believe that, in the moment you slew Gregory, you obtained some of his power. Marshall: Go fuck yourself. I'm done. Dr. Robinson: Wendy, get back he— Recording is interrupted. Dr. Robinson: P-patient was… intensely… uncooperative. Project Ant Hill should be… should be suspended until… until further notice. Son of a bitch, I think she broke my fucking arm! Marshall and Weeks are in the former's office. Marshall's board has been updated to include a picture of Robinson. Marshall is looking through the room. Marshall: Someone's been in here. Weeks: What do you mean? Marshall: My gun's missing. Marshall picks up her chair, revealing torn tape underneath it. Marshall: And so is my spare. Shit. Robinson must know we've rumbled him. Marshall approaches a window with a flower box in it and opens it, inhaling the air from outside. Marshall: Did you know that in 2021, there was an average of one mass casualty incident— Weeks: Every twelve and a half hours, give or take. Yeah. I'm aware. Which is why I'm surprised you own guns, plural. Marshall: I only use it when I need it, and right now, I really need it. They're all gone, god dammit. Marshall turns to the board. Marshall: Robinson's a Global Founder too, isn't he? Weeks: …different department from me. But… Marshall: What the fuck got into him? And what's with… Marshall pins a photograph of the flower-like sigil found at the crime scenes on her board. Marshall: The hell is with this? Copycat killing where you mutilate the relatives I can see some sick logic behind, but… they call him the 'Wallflower Killer'. I used to call myself a wallflower a whole bunch. Is he… has he been taunting me this whole time? Weeks: …I need to look something up. Marshall: Go for it. Weeks pulls up the original SCP-8097 file, which concerns Gregory Arnoldson, reading the updated containment procedures. Weeks: Do you know where Arnoldson is buried? Marshall: Yeah, I visit there once a month to make sure nobody vandalizes his grave. Silence on the recording. Weeks is heard clearing his throat. Marshall's expression turns consternated. Marshall: I was hired to do it by his sister. It's the only steady paycheck I have at this point. Weeks: …he has a sister? Marshall: Julia. She lives in Oregon, so she's probably not in danger. Weeks: Where's he buried, Marshall? Marshall: Flower Street Cemetery. Right by the… western… wall. Several seconds of silence. Marshall: …can you look up where this sick motherfucker lives? Weeks: One sec. Weeks paces the room, searching on their phone for Dr. Robinsons whereabouts. He finds an address after several seconds. Weeks: Shit. He's literally across the street from it. Marshall: What?! Weeks: Apparently he bought an old funeral home? Fuck if I… look, we know where he is, and we gotta stop him. Marshall: I… don't think he's there, Allan. Weeks: What? Where do you think he is? Marshall nods over Weeks's shoulder. He turns, and sees Dr. Robinson standing behind him, holding a chef's knife, approximately 33cm in length. Dr. Robinson: You know, studies have shown that people are less likely to scream at the sight of a knife, as opposed to the sight of a gun. And this particular knife is… special. Weeks: Bullshit. The Genovese knife got melted down after that fiasco with O'Brien. Dr. Robinson: Ah, you have a discerning eye, Agent. This is only a replica, I'll grant you that. But a knife is a knife. Dr Robinson approaches Weeks. Weeks draws their weapon in response. Dr. Robinson: Allan. Stop Carrying Pistols. Agent Weeks drops their weapon as a memetic trigger phrase is spoken. Dr. Robinson: I'm not going to kill you, don't worry. You have no part in this ritual. But I do need to slow you down. Weeks: What ritual? Wendy, run! Dr. Robinson: Gwendolyn, if you climb out that window, his esophagus is going to get a clear view of the ceiling. Allan, Project Ant Hill was a disastrous failure because we couldn't replicate 8097's anomalous abilities. I didn't have anywhere else to go. They gave me a nice severance package, didn't even bother with the amnestics! But something like him only comes around once in a generation. Weeks: So, what, you're going to bring him back from the dead? He was cremated specifically to prevent that from happening, dumbass. Dr. Robinson: Oh, no. I'm not going to bring him back. But I'm going to make sure that his powers find a new vessel, finally, since it doesn't seem to have taken with this murder-obessed bi— A gunshot rings out, and Robinson suddenly clutches their shoulder, gasping in pain. Blood emerges from the wound as they clutch their shoulder Dr. Robinson: Wh— you paranoid bitch! I got all your guns! Marshall: Nobody thinks to look in the flower box. Robinson flees out of her office. Marshall discharges her weapon two more times, shattering the window on her door. Cursing, she approaches Weeks. Marshall: Allan, are you okay? Weeks: Yeah. We gotta follow him. If he can't get to the victims, he's in the endgame now. Marshall: The hell did you mean, 'the Genovese Knife'? Weeks: Well, that's a long story. The knife that was used to murder Kitty Genovese was an anomalous— Marshall: —was a hunting knife, not a kitchen knife. I've seen it in person. Weeks: …you know what? I'll ruminate on that later. I… look, if I try to pick up my gun right now, I'd literally have a blood vessel burst in my brain, long story. I can drive, though. Marshall: Let's head to this son-of-a-bitch's hideout. Time to end this. Marshall and Weeks pull up to 12 Flower Street. It is a large house, three storeys tall, converted from a funeral parlor into residential living space, with approximately 278m3 of interior space, constructed in the 1960s. Marshall is in the passenger's seat. Marshall: What's that Ant Hill thing he was talking about? Weeks: It's… there's a department where I work that focuses on trying to make humans into living weapons. Robinson was part of that department, and he thought that Arnoldson was naturally one of these. He also thought that the… condition was transmissible. Marshall How? Weeks: He theorized that Arnoldson's mother got it from accidentally hitting that pedestrian, and Arnoldson got it from her somehow. Marshall: …I knew Greg killed his mom. He started acting weird right after she died. But… I killed him. Weeks: And clearly that theory didn't stick, because you aren't… Silence on the recording. Weeks: …Tylenol with Everclear… Marshall: Let's talk about this later. Right now— The windshield shatters abruptly, and Marshall's dialog, and breathing, abruptly ceases. Weeks: Holy shit. W-Wendy? Marshall? Oh, fuck… holy shit, that… oh god, I'm… dammit. Robinson! Weeks dives out of their vehicle as more shots ring out. They are holding the replica knife that Robinson dropped earlier. Weeks: God, fucking memetics. Weeks takes cover at a corner of the house, attempting to pinpoint the location that he is being shot from. Frame analysis from this period of time indicates that Marshall has vanished from Weeks's vehicle; this is not acknowledge by Weeks. Weeks: Robinson! Come out and fight like a man, you son of a bitch! The fuck is he up to? Weeks attempts to gain entry into Robinson's house. The walls are covered by memorabilia related to true crime, including photographs of several serial murderers, and replicas of bladed and blunt weapons which were used in their sprees. Weeks: …shit, I need backup. Footsteps are heard overhead. Weeks makes their way to a staircase; however, they stop at the bottom. Weeks: A fucking tripwire? What's it connected to? Weeks follows the wire and discovers a wooden panel in the hallway is lose; behind it is a Claymore mine. Weeks disables it and continues upstairs. Weeks: You son of a bitch. You fucking psycho. All this for what? Just so you could try to gain his power? What does that accomplish? Weeks turns down the hallway, and sees Robinson in a far room, crouched over a sniper rifle. As he begins to approach, the door abruptly closes. Weeks: The hell? Dr. Robinson: H— who are— how did you— no, of course, it makes sense. You inaudible looked away for no more than inaudible seconds. It's miraculous, you— Screams ring out as Dr. Robinson's dialog is interrupted. Weeks attempts to open the door, but finds it blocked. Over a minute later, it opens, and Weeks finds Gwendolyn Marshall standing over a pile of eviscerated remains. The only aspect recognizable as Malcolm Robinson is his severed head, which Marshall is holding. Marshall is notably not covered in any blood spatter. Weeks: …Wendy… drop the head. Marshall: What, you think I'm going to kill you, Allan? After everything we've been through? Weeks: Considering you lied to me about being an anomaly… Marshall: To be fair, at first, I thought you were just. An amateur investigator. I thought that 'I have superpowers that make me good at being a serial killer' would be a hard sell. Marshall frowns. I guess this is the part where you take me in, then? Weeks: …I'm afraid so. Weeks takes out his phone. Marshall: Managed to keep this a secret for a decade. Of course you turn out to be— Marshall's eyeline is drawn to something on Weeks' chest. The body camera picks up a weak glow, as if from the screen of a phone. Marshall: …Allan… Weeks: What? Marshall: Run. Weeks turns to leave the room; as he does, his body camera becomes abruptly disconnected. Allan Weeks was later found, alive, in the trunk of his own vehicle; after-action testimony claims that Marshall (now designated SCP-8097-A) abruptly assaulted and subdued him, before fleeing to parts unknown. Currently, Marshall is at large, and is considered a Keter-class threat, due to the difficulty of tracking and containment. Footnotes 1. Due to the proliferation of violence at American schools, some institutions do assessments of how likely certain students—typically those with developmental disabilities, disciplinary issues, or failing academic grades—are to instigate mass casualty events. 2. A defunct video hosting website dedicated to hosting unedited footage of war, politics and world events to foster ‘civilian journalism’. 3. A small floral arrangement worn by men during formal occasions; the female equivalent is the corsage. 4. The Hunter’s Creek School District had illegally installed an array of microphones within the restrooms and locker rooms of its elementary, middle, and high schools, typically hidden within the PA system speakers. 5. This event is corroborated by police reports and school incident reports dated to 2005. 6. Absalom Renard was admitted into juvenile detention in 2010 for a spree of vandalism in Hunter's Creek and other nearby cities. 7. Diana Arnoldson, SCP-8097's mother, died in March 2012 after apparently injecting bleach into her veins instead of heroin. 8. It was determined in 2017 that Marshall had no anomalous properties; as such, no effort was made by Dr. Robinson to retain her as a 'client'. 9. Weeks was chosen in part because of his involvement with the True Crime community, having been a speaker at three small true crime conventions before and during his tenure in the Foundation. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8097" by Ihp, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8097. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: marshall2012-1.jpg Name: prom day 07 197 Author: 02 nation License: CC BY-SA 2.0 DEED Source Link: https://flickr.com/photos/1502/495456051 Additional Notes: (Optional) Filename: marshall2021-1.jpeg Name: Hi. Author: Lucíola Correia License: CC BY 2.0 DEED Source Link: https://www.flickr.com/photos/lucorreia/22566345007 Filename: Collins Middle School, September 2021.jpg Author: Fletcher License: CC 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Collins_Middle_School,_September_2021.jpg |
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padding: 2vw; } close Info X SCP-8097: Ƿ is for the Ƿaylaid Ƿallflower (Wynn is for the Waylaid Wallflower) ⚠️ Content warning: This article depicts the following: Harm towards students and teachers in a school setting. Mentions of mass shootings. Mentions of serial murderers. Mentions of a suicide attempt. ⚠️ content warning Item #: SCP-8097 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8097's body is being held for study for the next three years; once yearly, his cadaver is to be inspected for any anomalous properties. If none have manifested after five years, SCP-8097's remains are to be disposed of. Special Containment Procedures Addendum: As of June 2017, SCP-8097's remains have failed to display any anomalous properties, and as such, their body has been cremated, and their ashes have been interred in their family plot at the Flower Street Cemetery in Hunter's Creek. Description: SCP-8097 refers to Gregory Arnoldson, a seventeen-year-old spree killer of Swedish and Russian descent responsible for between twelve and fifteen deaths in the town of Hunter’s Creek, Massachusetts in May of 2012. Prior to his death, Arnoldson possessed an unknown quality and quantity of anomalous abilities which aided in his crimes. The only confirmed anomalous ability Arnoldson possessed was increased regenerative capabilities, to the point where twenty rounds from a Hunter’s Creek Police Department firearm failed to subdue them. Records kept by SCP-8097’s school, including a ‘shooter risk profile’1 show a wide range of behavioral issues, including vandalizing school property, assaulting other students, and ‘inappropriate involvement’ with a former art teacher. SCP-8097 was reported to have been abused by other family members, but these claims were never passed on to law enforcement, child services, or any other appropriate agency. On May 15th, 2012, SCP-8097 murdered a stocker at Walker’s Grocery Store in Hunter’s Creek and left their body on the loading dock behind the store; after security footage was uploaded to LiveLeak2 showing SCP-8097 avoiding all blood splatter while killing the subject in question by forcibly removing their jugular, the Foundation launched an investigation. Despite Foundation efforts, SCP-8097 would kill at least four more individuals leading up to May 20th, the night of Hunter’s Creek High School’s Senior Prom. At this event, he would kill seven more individuals. Three more bodies were discovered at his family home on May 21st, bringing his death toll to fifteen. Addendum: Timeline of Events, 5/20/2012: Archivist’s Note: Events confirmed by security camera footage or other electronic recording (i.e. computer records, photography, audio recording) are presented with bold timestamps. Events only attested by eyewitness testimony are indicated by underlined timestamps. 7:00 PM: Senior Prom officially commences at Hunter’s Creek High School. SCP-8097 is observed on security cameras, entering the premises and paying admission, displaying no abnormal behavior. They are wearing a pink boutonnière3, despite not having a date, and a black tuxedo. Other students avoid them; body language indicates that they detect a foul odor of some form. 7:00 PM: Students indicate that SCP-8097 had a strong odor of body spray around him, as if attempting to cover an unpleasant smell. 7:03 PM: The DJ begins playing their first set of music in the main gymnasium; fitting with the dance’s theme of ‘Crazy 80’s’, the song is Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cindi Lauper. 7:07 PM: SCP-8097 is seen on camera in the main gymnasium attempting to converse with a fellow student. After two minutes of conversation, the student breaks away. 7:09 PM: A student in a hot pink prom dress, identified as Gwendolyn “Wendy” Marshall, is seen on camera entering the women’s restroom on the first floor. 7:10 PM: SCP-8097 is seen entering the women’s restroom on the first floor. 7:18 PM: SCP-8097 is seen leaving the women’s restroom on the first floor. He appears to be sucking something off of his left index finger. Marshall, photographed approximately two hours prior to the attack. 7:19 PM: SCP-8097 is seen re-entering the women’s restroom. 7:20 PM: SCP-8097 is seen exiting the men’s restroom on the first floor. The two restrooms are separated by approximately 3m of corridor, and do not have adjacent walls. 7:22 PM: Another female student is seen attempting to enter the women’s restroom on the first floor, but finds the door locked. They shrug, and proceed to the one on the second floor. 7:30 or 7:32 PM: A pair of male students, one wearing a blue boutonnière, confront SCP-8097 by the buffet table outside the gymnasium. Records show these two individuals had been the subject of abuse by SCP-8097 for several years prior to this encounter. 7:34 PM: A pair of male students are seen walking away from the approximate location of the buffet table, their body language conveying disgust. SCP-8097 follows them, before cameras lose track of both parties as they vanish around a corner. 7:40 PM (approx): A student reports hearing the sounds of metal banging in one of the second-floor hallways, ‘as if a locker was being slammed shut over and over’, accompanied by a loud crunching sound on the last bang. Upon seeing a member of maintenance personnel on the balcony overlooking the lobby, they disregard the noise and return to their conversation. 7:42: A member of maintenance personnel, repairing a light fixture on the balcony, nods in acknowledgement as SCP-8097 passes. The custodian is wearing headphones. SCP-8097 leaves behind a visible shoe print, causing an annoyed reaction from the maintenance personnel. 8:00 PM: The second set of music begins, consisting largely of 1980s motion picture soundtracks. 8:10 PM: Voting for Prom King and Prom Queen begins, and ballot boxes are placed by the entrance to the auditorium. 8:12: SCP-8097 deposits votes for both Prom King and Prom Queen. 8:12 PM: Two students and one teacher note that the ballots SCP-8097 deposits appear to be wet. 8:23 PM: SCP-8097 goes to the DJ and requests a song to be played. The DJ is seen laughing and nodding, before they queue it up as the next song. 8:25 PM: The main theme from the horror film Prom Night begins to play. 8:35 PM: Two students, one male and one female, enter the women’s locker room. The female student is in a state of mild undress. Their left shoe is lost as they enter the locker room. 8:36 PM: SCP-8097 enters the women’s locker room, picking up the shoe as they go. 8:37 PM: Surveillance equipment within the locker room4 record the following audio: SCP-8097: Hey. Male Student: Wh— oh, unintelligible ck, Greg, what does y unintelligible ss want now? SCP-8097: An apology. Female Student: Unintelligible SCP-8097: You know for what, Carlie, you fucking whore. Sounds of altercation Sound of glass breaking Screaming Silence 8:42 PM: SCP-8097 emerges from the women’s locker room and attempts to deposit the female student’s shoe into a trash can; the heel of the shoe has a sheen to it, suggesting it is wet. However, the receptacle is over-full, and it falls out the other side. SCP-8097 is not seen on surveillance between 8:42 and 9:07 PM. However, student and teacher testimony records possible anomalous phenomena connected to SCP-8097. 8:47 PM: Maintenance personnel on the second floor reports seeing an eye looking out at him from Locker 244. Upon opening it with the master locker key, nothing is found. 8:49 PM: Several students attempt to enter the women’s bathroom on the first floor, knocking rapidly upon it. They are discouraged from doing so when the knocking is repeated from the other side of the door. 8:55 PM: (approx) A biology teacher reports hearing muffled moaning outside their second-floor classroom where they are grading papers. This room is adjacent to Locker 244. He notes that Locker 244 has been vandalized, with words scratched into the metal, reading: im ok dont st stop me 9:00 PM: A puddle of water is discovered by the bleachers near the women’s locker room. A student notes that the showers in the locker room occasionally leak. 9:07 PM: SCP-8097 reappears, emerging from the first-floor men’s bathroom. 9:12 PM: A chaperone discovers the shoe of the female student last seen entering the women’s locker room. 9:23 PM: The chaperone approaches the DJ in order to make an announcement about the lost shoe. 9:24 PM: SCP-8097 is heard conversing with the chaperone, telling her that he has seen the student to whom it belongs, and asks her to follow him. 9:28 PM: SCP-8097 is seen entering a staircase reading “ROOF ACCESS”. 9:42 PM: Surveillance in the school’s lobby shows an indistinct shape impacting on the skylight above the main entrance. The sound of glass straining is heard. 9:45 PM: SCP-8097 returns from the roof. They are no longer wearing a boutonnière. 9:47 PM: SCP-8097 emerges from the men’s bathroom on the first floor, wearing a blue boutonnière. 10:00 PM: Prom King and Prom Queen are announced as being Eric Striker and Carlie Planter, respectively. Neither of them approach the stage to collect their regalia. 10:00 PM: Several students jeer that they’re in the locker room. 10:03 PM: A student in a white prom dress enters the women’s locker room. 10:07 PM: The previous student exits the locker room, screaming and sobbing, rushing the stage and grabbing the DJ’s microphone, announcing that there are dead bodies in the locker room. 10:07 PM: While initially disbelieved, the look of horror on her face, combined with visible vomit and a panicked demeanor, convinces a chaperone to inspect the locker room. They confirm the student's findings. 10:08 PM: The maintenance personnel working on the second floor notices the door to locker 244 is slightly ajar. He opens it, and a corpse is partially dislodged. 10:08 PM: Photographs taken by the maintenance personnel immediately after opening the locker show that the corpse matches one of the two males who were antagonizing SCP-8097 earlier in the night. Its left hand appears to be fused to the locker door. A second, indistinct shape is bisected by the locker's shelving. 10:10 PM: Students are instructed to shelter in place within classrooms, and not to be out of the view of chaperones or teachers at any time. 10:20 PM: Police arrive. Two Foundation agents accompany them as ‘special FBI investigators’. 10:25 PM: Police notice the indistinct shape resting on the skylight. As they are trying to examine it, the glass shatters and the body of the chaperone falls through the skylight. The officer observing it is crushed by the falling body and killed. Part of a pink boutonnière is discovered in the chaperone’s hand. 10:30 PM: The Chief of Police declares a lockdown around Hunter’s Creek High School. 10:39 PM: The women’s restroom on the first floor is unlocked. Gwendolyn Marshall is retrieved from it, and placed into a body bag. She sits upright as the zipper is about to close around her head. 10:55 PM: Paramedics treat Marshall’s wounds. She recounts the events which occurred, naming SCP-8097 as the assailant. 10:59 PM: SCP-8097’s ballots for prom royalty are recovered from a trash can; both were wet, and were not counted. Both of them are written in blood. 11:03 PM: An officer patrolling the area discovers SCP-8097 in the school’s assembly hall, and draws their weapon. As they approach, they fire into SCP-8097’s center of mass. SCP-8097 does not seem to be affected by the bullets. 11:05 PM: SCP-8097 stabs the officer in the ear with what appears to be an audio cable. 11:13 PM: The school’s guidance counselor arrives on-scene, wanting to console the student body. The Chief of Police escorts her through the building. 11:27 PM: While passing by the biology classroom in the first floor corridor, the guidance counselor and chief of police hear a noise within. Both enter to investigate. 11:43 PM: SCP-8097 exits the biology classroom, holding an indistinct, somewhat spherical object in their left hand. A red fluid is dripping from it. 11:50 PM: Gwendolyn Marshall disappears from the triage area where she is being treated, and cannot be located after several minutes of searching. 11:57 PM: SCP-8097 enters the chemistry laboratory, and attempts to open several cabinets. Finding them locked, he exits the room to search for a key. 11:58 PM: Marshall enters through the other door to the chemistry laboratory, and locates a spare key hidden in the lab’s fume hood. She begins opening cabinets containing chemicals and lab equipment, hooking a hose to a gas faucet, as well as locating a lighter in the teacher’s desk. 11:59 PM: SCP-8097 re-enters the laboratory. Marshall, who is hiding behind the door, breaks a bottle of caustic liquid over their head. As they scream in pain, Marshall shoves him towards the hose and faucet, turning it on before igniting the lighter. As SCP-8097 begins to burn, Marshall retrieves a fire extinguisher to seemingly douse them. While she does so, immediately after the flames are extinguished, she begins beating him over the head with the canister of flame retardant. 12:03 AM, May 21st, 2012: Estimated time of death of SCP-8097. 12:06 AM: Marshall is discovered by members of the police department and pulled away from SCP-8097’s cadaver. Interviewer: Agent Adrienne Palmer Subject: Gwendolyn Marshall Date: 22/05/2012 Location of Interview: Hunter's Creek PD Holding Cells Marshall has been held in Hunter's Creek PD's Holding cells for over twenty-four hours. The only communication she has made during this time is the word 'Lawyer'. Palmer entered the holding cells at 01:32 PM, activating a hidden recording device on her clothing. Agent Palmer: Good afternoon. It's Wendy, right? Marshall: For the umpteenth time, give me a lawyer. Agent Palmer: I'm actually not police. One second. Palmer retrieves an identification badge for her cover identity. Agent Palmer: I'm with Suicide and Crisis Prevention. We're a non-profit organization dedicated to helping people in the aftermath of severe traumatic events. Natural disasters, terrorist attacks— Marshall: School shootings? Agent Palmer: Exactly. Marshall: Can I see your badge? Agent Palmer: Of course. Palmer places the badge on a portion of the cell meant for depositing meal trays, and pushes it halfway through. Marshall reads it and hands it back. Marshall: Okay. Are… are you going to record this? Agent Palmer produces a pen and notepad. Agent Palmer: I'm just going to take notes. I want to see if I can't recommend a good therapist in the area based off of what you tell me. Now, what can you tell me? Marshall: All right. Let me just… Marshall sits in her cell. Palmer pulls up her own chair. Marshall: Where do you want me to start? Agent Palmer: Who did you go to prom with? Marshall: Nobody. I… I just wanted to be there. Be around people. Agent Palmer: It's a twenty-dollar ticket. Pretty pricey for this part of the state. Marshall: Movie theater downtown has one screen and can't play anything newer than Jurassic Park. That costs the same, more if you get popcorn. Agent Palmer: Fair enough. Marshall: There was… there was someone there I wanted to ask to dance. Never got a chance to because… yeah. Agent Palmer: Because you were locked in the bathroom for most of the night? Marshall: Yep. Palmer's notes indicate that Marshall looked 'displeased, regretful, frustrated'. Marshall: I… I don't even know what happened. Agent Palmer: You have ligat— you have handprints around your neck. Marshall: I do? Marshall touches her neck at this point. An exclamation of pain is picked up on the microphone. Agent Palmer: The police believed he tried to strangle you, and didn't… Marshall: Finish the job? Agent Palmer: Essentially. Marshall: Okay, yeah, that… I was trying to find the guy I wanted to dance with. I was about to talk to him, when… when Greg came up to me. Agent Palmer: Greg being the… individual who caused this event. Marshall: Yep. I… okay, I gotta be honest? He… everyone knows he's fucked up. We've always known. Agent Palmer: How so? Marshall: Ms. Hipp, our fifth-grade teacher. She… when Greg got into her class in August, there were three hamsters in the cage there. One of them went missing in September. Its head was found in… in Mr. Power's desk.5 Ms. Hipp got rid of the hamsters after that. We all knew it was Greg that did it. Agent Palmer: He harmed animals? Marshall: And people. He was… he kept on pulling hair, hitting kids… he once nearly broke the arm of another kid. Absalom. He doesn't go here anymore, I think he's in juvie.6 Agent Palmer: So, he was always a bully? Marshall: Yep. It… I can't say it was his fault. His mom did awful things to him. He kept showing up to school with burns on the back of his hand. She died earlier this year. Agent Palmer: How? Marshall: I… think she OD'd.7 Agent Palmer: I see. Marshall: It… look, it doesn't matter. I… I can't even remember what the hell happened. He came up to me, and I went into the bathroom to get away from him. Next thing I know, I'm waking up halfway in a body bag. Agent Palmer: Didn't you have anyone to… get away to? Someone you felt safe around? Marshall: I don't have a lot of friends. I'm kind of a wallflower, honestly. Agent Palmer makes a note: 'who says 'wallflower' anymore?' Marshall: I don't mind it. I spend a lot of time reading and watching stuff. Mainly true crime. Agent Palmer: Sorry, what's true crime? Marshall: Lizzie Borden, Ed Gein, Ed Kemper… or more modern stuff like the Brockton Bay Binder. Analysis of actual real-life crime stuff. It… I thought it was fun. Agent Palmer: Does this… hobby of yours include mass-casualty events? Marshall: Yeah. That's why I don't think it's fun anymore. Because… when I saw one of the bodies, I realized something. Agent Palmer: What? Marshall: Do you know who Charles Manson is? Agent Palmer: Of course. Cult leader whose followers— Marshall: Do you remember anyone his cult killed? Their names I mean. Agent Palmer: Sh— Marshall: Other than Sharon Tate. Several seconds of silence. Marshall: Can you remember the names of anyone who died at Columbine? Can you name a single person Rodney Alcala killed? Henry Lee Lucas? Hell, Jodi Arias— she was massive when I was in junior high! And everyone talks about her, but nobody, nobody remembers the name Travis Alexander! All of these horrible, horrible people… Palmer makes a note: 'subject seems transfixed with the concept of violent individuals'. Marshall: And nobody remembers the people that they killed. Just that they killed people. That's what's going to happen here. Agent Palmer: Do you feel… guilty about that? Marshall: Why would I feel guilty? I'm pissed off. I want to look him in the eyes at his trial and read out the names of everyone he killed. Agent Palmer: His… trial? Marshall: There's evidence all over the place. And I'm a pretty good witness. He's totally going to be executed. Feel sorry for his sister, though; wonder who's going to take care of her. Agent Palmer: You… don't know? Marshall: What? Agent Palmer: Gregory Arnoldson is… dead. Marshall: What?! When? Did he fucking— what did he do?! Agent Palmer: Ms. Marshall, you killed him. You don't remember? Marshall: …no. There… Marshall inspects her prom dress, noting discoloration from exposure to acid. She looks at the hem of her dress, which is slightly carbonized. Marshall: There's no way. There's… I can't have. No, I… I would remember it. I would… Oh God, is that why I'm here? The— the police won't tell me anything. Agent Palmer: Killing someone is highly traumatic, Ms. Marshall. But I don't think you have to worry. If anything, you're… you're a hero. Marshall: Why can't I remember it? What the hell? And… if I killed him… why isn't there any blood on my dress? Agent Palmer writes a note: 'dress does appear to have minimal blood spatter. anomaly hematokinetic?' Agent Palmer: I'll put you in contact with a therapist in the area. I'm going to stop at the vending machines before I leave; can I get you anything? Marshall: Uh. I-I feel… I'm gonna be sick. Agent Palmer: They have Sprite. I find that settles the stomach. Marshall: Please. Agent Palmer: Of course. Be right back. Agent Palmer exits the room and finds a secluded area to make final notes. Agent Palmer: Marshall has experienced severe trauma and appears to have either suppressed the memory of the murder, or else entered a 'blackout' state where the memory did not form. Furthermore, due to the fact that Marshall was unconscious and incapable of witnessing the majority of the anomaly's rampage, including any apparent anomalous activity, I am not recommending amnestic treatment at this time, as it would be a… a waste of resources. Marshall is heard loudly retching in the background. However, reports of Ms. Marshall's heroism have already been reported in the media, with the New York Post publishing a leaked image from the school's surveillance system showing Marshall terminating the anomaly. It is infeasible to contain the information that she is responsible for resolving a mass casualty event. As such, I am recommending that she be sent to a Foundation counselor operating at a civilian psychiatric practice so she may be monitored further. End recording. Selected Therapy Session Excerpts RE: POI-8097-001 (Gwendolyn Marshall) Interviewer: Dr. Malcolm Robinson Date of Interview: 07/02/2012 Session #: 3 Dr. Robinson: Come on in, Wendy. How are you feeling? POI-8097-001: I'm… not doing too great. Dr. Robinson: What's wrong? POI-8097-001: I've applied to seven different colleges, and none of them want me. Apparently, I'm a— POI-8097-001 makes quotation marks with her fingers. "controversial figure" and they don't want anything to do with me. Like, how the fuck is that fair? I don't even remember what the hell I did! Dr. Robinson: Where have you applied? POI-8097-001: U of M Amhearst. Bridgewater. Tufts, Bently, Cambridge. Dr. Robinson: Not trying out for Harvard or MIT? POI-8097-001: Harvard was my dream school. I wanted to go into their criminology major. But I have literal blood on my hands, and the prestigious institution that it is doesn't want someone like me going there. Dr. Robinson: That hardly seems fair. What were you planning on doing with the degree? POI-8097-001: Was planning on getting into Quantico. Dr. Robinson: FBI? That's not a bad career path. POI-8097-001: Yeah. But then I got to experience it first-hand. Silence on the recording. POI-8097-001: I didn't even see that much. I have nightmares of him pinning me down and… POI-8097-001 rubs her neck and gasps softly. POI-8097-001: I don't even know what he did to me. But… I don't think he was… he was normal. Dr. Robinson: He was mentally disturbed, yes— POI-8097-001: Not what I mean. I… I was locked in the restroom. It only locks from the inside, and there's no other way out. He'd have to walk through a wall to get out of there. And he killed half a dozen more people before… POI-8097-001 lets out a soft sob. POI-8097-001: Why can't I remember killing him? Why… why don't I remember? Dr. Robinson: It's normal for people to suppress memories of traumatic events. POI-8097-001: It's like… I wasn't even there. But I had to have had… some presence of mind. I poured acid on him and set him on fire. What kind of psychopath… Dr. Robinson: Let me stop you there. I've treated actual psychopaths. You're not one, I can tell you that. You're someone who's gone through trauma, and that can leave you isolated and scared. Tissue? POI-8097-001: Please. POI-8097-001 is heard blowing her nose and sobbing further. POI-8097-001: What if I turn out like him? Dr. Robinson: I don't think mental illness is transmissible like that. POI-8097-001: There was… people thought that Greg killed his mom. His mom might have run over someone with a car a few years back. What if there's some kind of… I don't know. What if I kill someone next, keep the cycle going? Dr. Robinson: You're an intelligent young woman, Wendy. You have a bright future ahead of you. And I'm going to help you achieve it. Part of our counseling services here include helping people find jobs and get into school. If you want, I could set you up with one of our life counselors. [Approximately thirty-eight minutes of irrelevant data has been expunged.] POI-8097-001: You're not from here, are you, doc? Dr. Robinson: I'm afraid not. But this seems like a fairly nice town. POI-8097-001: It's a small town. Everyone knows everyone else here. But… ever since it happened, nobody's been willing to talk about it. We held a big memorial service during graduation, but… none of the people Greg fucking killed were even named. They just showed their pictures, like that was enough. I want their names to be remembered. Dr. Robinson: What were their names? POI-8097-001: Arnold Jameson. Max Parker. Carlie Planter. Eric Striker. Mandie Jones, she… she was the chaperone who was on the roof. Officer Mark Allan. Officer Nigel Jay. Chief Landon Hunter. Ms. Kyra Cameron, she… she was the guidance counselor. I… I miss her. Dr. Robinson: Were you close to any of them? POI-8097-001: Not really. Just kept my head down and didn't make many friends. Ms. Cameron was nice to me when I went to see her. Dr. Robinson: Did you see her a lot? POI-8097-001: Once or twice a month. I… the school said I had a tendency to 'behave inappropriately' in class. Dr. Robinson: How so? POI-8097-001: I'd laugh when I wasn't supposed to. Would work on my homework during silent reading. Sometimes I'd fall asleep in first period— school starts at goddamn seven in the morning, what do they expect? But she was understanding. She wasn't one of those counselors who just… pretended to give a shit for their paycheck. Everyone remembers the maniac who brutalizes a school. But nobody remembers the people who he killed. They blend into the background. Like I always did. That's not fair. These people shouldn't be wallflowers for the rest of time. They deserve to be remembered. Dr. Robinson: How do you aim to do that? POI-8097-001: …I don't know. Dr. Robinson: Something to think about for our next session, then. Good seeing you again, Wendy. Same time next week? POI-8097-001: Two weeks. Going out of town with my family starting on the fifth. Dr. Robinson: Of course. Happy 4th, by the way. POI-8097-001: You as well. Photo of POI-8097, retrieved from the Facebook page of Gwendolyn Marshall's Private Investigation service circa 2021 Item #: SCP-8097 Special Containment Procedures: Investigation into SCP-8097 is currently underway. The cadavers of the victims have not displayed any anomalous properties, and as such, containment efforts are currently focusing on investigation into POI-8097. Description: SCP-8097 refers to an unknown subject responsible for four anomalous murders in Hunter's Creek, Massachusetts. The connection between each of these deaths is evident in the presence of a sigil of unknown significance at each of the murders, always painted on the wall opposite of where the cadaver is discovered. Due to the fact that these sigils bear a resemblance to flowers, the media has dubbed SCP-8097 the 'Wallflower Killer'. Each murder committed, to date, mirrors methods used by the previous SCP-8097 iteration, Gregory Arnoldson, in a mass casualty event on May 20th, 2012. Furthermore, the attacks exclusively target survivors of the 2012 incident, with the first four victims consisting of three students and one teacher. Currently, the most likely candidate for SCP-8097 is Gwendolyn Marshall (POI-8097), a survivor of the Arnoldson incident. Since 2014, Marshall has worked as a private investigator within ███████ County, operating out of Hunter's Creek following her failure to enter any institution of higher learning. Marshall had been in contact with two of the four victims through a support group which she had helped create in 2017. Foundation agent Allan Weeks, posing as an FBI Special Agent, was dispatched to interview Marshall. Agent Weeks activates his body camera within 17 West Main Street. They are on the second floor, before a door with a frosted glass window. Text on the window reads: "Gwen Marshall, Private Investigator. Marital Disputes, Lost Items, Runaways." Weeks knocks on the door. Marshall: For god's sake, Gary, I told you, I'll have the rent tomo— Weeks: Miss Marshall, I'm with the FBI. Silence from the other side of the door. It opens several seconds later. Marshall is twenty-seven years old, pale, with green eyes and unkempt brown hair. She is wearing a T-Shirt which says "CrimeCon2019" and a pair of blue jeans. A pistol is at her left side, secured in a holster. Marshall: What do you want? Weeks: I think we both know what I want. I want to talk about the Wallflower killings. Marshall laughs. Marshall: You think I'm doin' it, don't you? Weeks: I… Marshall: Look. You ain't the first person to think that. It's a small town, and word gets around. Psycho's goin' around killing survivors of the massacre, has to be the crazy chick who's obsessed with true crime. She shakes her head. My old therapist even popped back into my life to see if I was 'doing okay'8. I fired him five years ago, and he still thinks he has a say in my life. Weeks: Look, Miss Marshall, I just… this is the most prolific serial killer that Massachusetts has seen since— Marshall: Since Alfred Gaynor. I know. I share a birthday with him— December 10th. Weeks: Then you understand why the FBI has an interest in this? Marshall: Why send only one person, then? Why don't you have a team with you? Weeks: I… I'm here to assess the situation. Marshall: Let me see some identification. Weeks: Of course. Weeks hands Marshall a counterfeit FBI badge, supplied by the Foundation. Marshall: …Got a bridge to sell me too? Weeks: What? Marshall: The FBI stopped using this seal back in '07, and it hasn't used this style of serial number since the '90s. Who are you, really? Bear in mind impersonating a fed can get you three years behind bars. Weeks sighs. Weeks: Okay, you got me. I'm a true crime junkie, like you.9 The FBI… they're not interested in this yet. I'm hoping to help get them interested. Marshall: And… you thought the best way to do that was… playing Agent Mulder? Weeks: Okay, when you put it like that… Marshall: Name one of Rodney Alcala's victims. Weeks: Try three. Charlotte Lamb, Jill Parenteau, Robin Samsoe. Marshall: How many times was Travis Alexander stabbed? Weeks: 27 to 29. Maybe 30 if you count the throat being slit, on top of the gunshot wound. Marshall: How did AJ Fader die? Weeks: Stabbed himself in the eye. Nobody knows why. Marshall: …okay, so you know your stuff. Let's talk. Marshall invites Weeks into her office. A pair of office chairs sit on either side of a medium-sized folding table with a laptop on it. Behind it is a blank whiteboard; Marshall spins the board around to reveal several photographs, documents, and lines of dry-erase ink making up a tableau which documents the murders committed by SCP-8097. Weeks: Jesus. Marshall: I… was hired to tail the first victim. Abigail North. She was captain of the cheer team. Her husband thought she was cheating on him, and when she… I found the body. She was strangled. Weeks: Like you were. Marshall: Yeah. But that's the thing. Second and third victims, Gary Nicholson and Dave Wyatt, were cut up and stuffed into some lockers at the furniture factory. Fourth vic, Mrs. Kirby— that is, Alice Kirby, she used to teach algebra— was found on the roof of the library, with pink flowers in one hand. Weeks: Identical to the original murders. Marshall: Not quite. Nicholson and Wyatt, they were cut up into chunks so they could fit into the locker; Max and Arnold, the victims they're meant to correspond to, they were dismembered and decapitated, not chopped up. And Mandie Jones, who was found on the roof— she was the fifth person murdered. Third and Fourth were Eric and Carlie. Weeks: And then there's the fact that… well, you survived. Marshall: I'm kinda creeped out that you're familiar with my case, but yeah. They're meant to look like a copycat, but they're gettin' stuff wrong, and not just the geographical details. So… Marshall picks up a marker and draws a question mark in between the third and fourth victims. Marshall: Either they skipped two on purpose, or we're missing two victims. Weeks: Hopefully it's the former. Now, you said that the second and third were found in a locker room, third on the library… Marshall: There's a skylight there, like at the school. Abigail was found in the bathroom of the movie theater. They're mimicking general locations, not so much exact details. Weeks: Striker and Planter were killed in a locker room… where all have the authorities searched? Marshall: I go to the rec every day to work out and haven't found a body yet. Same with the pool, and the new high school. Weeks: Sorry… new high school? Marshall: They shuttered the old one after what Greg did. It's still standing there, in the middle of a field. Marshall falls silent, turning to face Weeks. Marshall: You don't think… Weeks: I'm already impersonating a federal officer. Why not add trespassing to the list? Marshall: I think I kinda like you. Weeks and Marshall have crawled under a hole in the fence surrounding the former Hunter’s Creek High School. The school has been shuttered since mid-2012, but has not been demolished, due to a lack of funds allocated by the ███████ County commissioner’s office. Power was shut off in early 2013, and despite the security measures (a two-and-a-half-meter tall fence surrounding the property, irregular patrols by the Hunter’s Creek Police Department, a single security camera at the northern end of the perimeter), it is regularly broken into and vandalized. Weeks: You do this a lot? Marshall: Can’t tell you how many junkies I’ve found here. No budget to tear it down, no budget to keep it safe either. I actually have a stash of narcan in my old locker, just in case. Weeks: They never even took out the lockers? Marshall: They took out one. For crime scene analysis. Weeks: Right. They approach the front entrance of the school. It is covered by wooden boards, which are secured in place by a chain. Marshall: Shit. They replaced the boards since last time. Weeks: Now what? Marshall steps back and scans the area. Marshall: Give me a boost. I can get in through the second floor, and open a window down here. Hunter's Creek High School Building, photographed in 2010 Weeks: They’re big enough? Marshall: This was built back in ‘02. Architect was from Colorado. Weeks: What’s that got to do with— Marshall: He figured schools could use more escape routes, so he made the windows big enough to be climbed out of. Weeks:…ah. Gotcha. Weeks assist Marshall into the second-floor window. She climbs in. Weeks: Hold up! Weeks throws Marshall a radio. She catches it midair. Marshall: Seriously? Huh. This is serious stuff. Weeks: Two-mile range. Military surplus. Marshall: I’ll let you in, gimme ten. Marshall disappears into the school. Week’s radio blares static, before she speaks. Marshall: Testing. Weeks: I hear ya. What’s it look like? Marshall: Abandoned. Bringing back bad memories, but what else is new? Weeks: School doesn’t agree with a lot of kids. Marshall: There's more to it than that. Schools are designed to give scars. You have rules that punish bullied kids for trying to fight back. You have principals and superintendents being hired from the military or the department of corrections. You have curricula that teach propaganda and mythology as undisputed fact, and discourages debate. The day before prom, it was announced that the football team would get a $100,000 grant to get new gear and fix up the locker room — only the boy’s locker room, keep in mind — while the rest of the school district didn’t even have air conditioning. Weeks: Same story everywhere in the country, Marshall. Marshall emerges from the window in front of Weeks. Marshall: Just because it’s raining shit everywhere doesn’t mean I have to like the smell. Weeks: …I didn’t hear you take the stairs. Over the radio, I mean. Marshall: I have quiet shoes. Come in. Weeks enters the building, entering a dilapidated classroom. Desks are absent, but the whiteboard up front remains intact. The words “GrEG LIVS”[sic] are written in permanent marker upon the board. Marshall turns on a flashlight. Marshall: Okay, locker room is this way. Weeks: They took the desks, but not the lockers? Huh. Marshall: Lockers have to fit in the hallways, desks are one-size-fits-all. Marshall and Weeks walk onwards, into the hallway. The school is heavily dilapidated, with several parts of the modular ceiling having crumbled. A burst pipe has led to a large amount of mold growing on the floor. They round the corner into the atrium of the building, and head north, down the hallway leading to the gymnasium. Marshall: Look at that. Marshall points her flashlight to a bootprint on the floor. Weeks: Men’s size ten, I’d say. When did it last rain? Marshall: About a week ago. Hold on. Marshall photographs the bootprint using her phone’s camera. Weeks: Ain’t gonna get good quality outta that. Marshall: I left my Nikon at home. Weeks and Marshall proceed further in. Several other bootprints are present, eventually leading them into the men’s locker room. Within, [COGNITOHAZARD EXPUNGED]. A sigil of a flower, painted in blood, surrounds the bodies. To prevent the cognitohazard from being recorded, Weeks turns off his camera. Weeks: Jesus Christ! Marshall: They… what… what’s wrong with their… why are their bodies… Weeks: Fucking… don’t photograph it! Marshall: Why? Weeks: Just… trust me on this. Now, I… I think we have enough to get the FBI involved. Fucking Christ. The Boston branch of the Unusual Incidents Unit was contacted, and several technicians trained in handling anomalous remains conducted an autopsy in situ. They concluded that the state of the cadavers matched that of the third and fourth victims of the original Hunter’s Creek Mass Casualty incident. As of May 8th, 2022, SCP-8097 remains at large. Selected Therapy Session Excerpts RE: POI-8097-001 ("Gwendolyn Marshall") Interviewer: Dr. Malcolm Robinson Date of Interview: 09/12/2013 Session #: 67 Dr. Robinson: Word about town is that we have a new P.I. POI-8097-001: Not yet. I'm going down to Boston for an apprenticeship for a few months. Then I have to take a few exams, and then I take a certification. Dr. Robinson: Why become a private investigator, though? I suppose it's the closest thing to an FBI agent available. POI-8097-001: That's… one way to put it, I guess. Mainly, I just… I kind of have this itch. Dr. Robinson: What do you mean? POI-8097-001: I just… feel a bit restless. Have been since the… since last year. I feel like I need to pursue something… something useful. Dr. Robinson: No luck with college, still? POI-8097-001: Nearest place that will accept me is in goddamn Ohio. But honestly? Becoming a P.I. means I don't have to go into eternal debt. Dr. Robinson: No scholarship programs are available, I suppose? POI-8097-001: Turns out that when you're not in any clubs, teams, or anything else extracurricular, on top of being a fucking murderer, colleges don't want to offer you so much as a handshake. Dr. Robinson: That doesn't seem fair. POI-8097-001: It's what I live with. Perks of being a fucking wallflower. Dr. Robinson: You keep on using that word to describe yourself. Do you think that's accurate? That you're introverted? POI-8097-001: There's more to it than that. I'm… beneath notice. One of my earliest memories was mom breaking the windows of the SUV to get me out because she had left me in the car on a hot summer day and forgot about me. Sometimes I wish she had just… left me in there. Dr. Robinson: Is being beneath notice a bad thing in your new line of work? POI-8097-001: No, I guess not, but… I feel like everything that happened at prom just got swept under the rug. High school's still closed, Greg's ashes are scattered in the woods somewhere, and… people don't talk about it anymore. Sandy Hook and the other dozen mass shootings we've had since then have overshadowed it. Laughter is heard. I've been banned from Wikipedia seven times because I'm trying to maintain a page about the thing. You know what they call it? A 'Mass Casualty Incident'. Not a shooting, or a stabbing, or a slaying. Ten people dead, and they call it an 'Incident'. Twice I was banned because I tried to add a list of the victims. It's like… nobody wants to remember them. Dr. Robinson: Seems to run counter to your… hobby. POI-8097-001: What, you mean true crime? Anyone who says they're a 'fan' of that is a goddamn ghoul, as far as I'm concerned. They can give me their opinions on what makes a serial killer tick when they have a degree in criminal psychology, and not a fucking second sooner. Everyone cares about the spectacle. Nobody cares about who died. Sighing is heard. I can't even bring myself to feel angry about it. It's just… that's just the way the world works. When you need help the most, the world fails you. Dr. Robinson: Do you feel as if I'm failing you? POI-8097-001: …I've been coming here for over a year, doc. I'm wondering when the healing starts. Dr. Robinson: In that case, we can try something next session. Have you ever heard of EMDR? POI-8097-001: I don't listen to Skrillex. Dr. Robinson: …pardon? POI-8097-001: EDM? Electronic dance music? Techno? Dr. Robinson: Oh, no. EMDR is a form of therapy that focuses on letting one process trauma through repeated left-right-left-right stimuli. Let me give you some material on it, one moment… Following the discovery of a pair of cognitohazardous cadavers at the former Hunter's Creek High School, Agent Weeks and Marshall contacted the Federal Bureau of Investigation. However, Marshall was unsatisfied with the outcome of events. Marshall and Weeks are at Jerry's, a local 24 hour diner, shortly after sunset. Marshall has ordered a relatively large meal, with a rare steak, coffee, and a slice of cherry pie. Weeks has ordered a cup of coffee and a plate of chicken fingers. Marshall: What was wrong with the bodies? Weeks: I… I don't know. Marshall: But there was something wrong with them, right? Weeks: Yeah. It… they shouldn't have looked like that. They couldn't have. Right? Marshall: Who are you really? Weeks: Sorry? Marshall: You carry around military-grade radios, you have counterfeit FBI badges, you know your shit when it comes to true crime… you know how hard it is for people to even talk about what happened at the school around here? It's like there's a mental block. One that you don't seem to have. Weeks: I'm… not sure what you… Weeks is silent for several seconds. Weeks: Oh, son of a bitch. Marshall: What? Weeks: There aren't any memorials to what happened around here? None at all? Marshall: None. I've always thought it was… odd. Like, I've studied trauma in communities affected by mass tragedies, ranging from Columbine to Parkland, and there's always some kind of memorial. I tried to organize one a few years ago, and didn't even get a dozen signatures on the petition. There's something wrong here. Weeks: …Tell me the names of the victims again. Marshall: Arnold Jameson. Max Parker. Carlie Planter. Eric Striker. Mandie Jones. Officer Mark Allan. Officer Nigel Jay. Chief Landon Hunter. Ms. Kyra Cameron. Weeks attempts to write down the names as Marshall says them. Their pen records unintelligble scribbling. Weeks: …son of a bitch, they're anti-memetic. Marshall: Anti-what? Back up, what are you talking about? Weeks: That's a… really long story, Marshall. Marshall: …holy shit. You're with the Founders, aren't you? Weeks: The— what? Marshall: The Global Founders. Parawatch claims they're a conspiracy that rules the world, like the Illuminati if they were on steroids and managed to lock god up in a cell. I remember seeing the word 'antimemetic' on a thread about them. It means 'can't be remembered', right? Weeks: …fucking Parawatch of all things. Yeah, that's exactly what it means. But if I can remember the victims… Marshall: That means that the killer is a copycat. Also, are you actually part of the… Weeks: If I told you, Wendy, I'd have to kill you. Marshall: Good fucking luck, Allan. Weeks: I mean it. Marshall: After I got my last rejection letter from college, I tried Tylenol with an Everclear chaser. Gave me indigestion. Weeks: A potassium overdose wouldn't show up on an autopsy. Marshall: …okay, so let's say you are part of the Global Founders, but can't tell me. If I turn out to be aberrant— that's the term you apparently use for people with special abilities— are you going to have to take me in? Weeks: You're not. I checked you out because you survived the slaying. You're… nothing special. Marshall: I'll take that as a compliment. Weeks: That's not— Marshall: If I was aberrant, you'd know. Was Greg… Weeks: Anomalous? We think so, given that he could… do stuff like teleport, and survive point-blank gunshot wounds. Marshall: …well, the killer's still out there. Think the FBI can handle it? Weeks: Maybe. But… something's bugging me. Marshall: What? Weeks: The sixth victim was killed using the body of the fifth victim, right? Crushed when the skylight broke. If these are strict copycats, then… god, this might be the third time I see another body used as a murder weapon. Marshall: I thought of that. I have a friend who works at the morgue, he padlocked the drawer where they kept the victim they found on top of the library. Family had them cremated a couple of days ago. Weeks: Maybe that'll break the streak, then, if the killer can't copy the deaths exactly. Marshall: That's my hope, but this guy seems oddly determined. There is a sound of glass breaking from behind Weeks. He turns to see a waitress at the diner falling into a pool of blood, struck on the head by a blunt object. A distinctive blue-and-black ring is on her right hand. The camera shows a grey, ash-like substance covering the floor, and a metal funerary urn by the body. The sound of a car driving off is heard. Weeks: The fuck?! Marshall stand and inspects the body of the waitress, putting her hand on the woman's neck to check for a pulse; she shakes her head. Marshall: Literally didn't know what hit her. Weeks: What was the name of the victim found on the rooftop? Marshall: Alice Kirby. Why? Weeks picks up the urn. The inscription on it reads "IN LOVING MEMORY OF ALICE"; however, it has been partially defaced with a flower-like sigil. Weeks: Well, shit. You didn't happen to get their plates, did you? Marshall: No. And what's worse, the pattern's changed. Weeks: How so? Marshall: The last few victims, with one exception, were cops. This was just some… random waitress in a diner. A crime of…. Marshall pauses. Marshall: They wanted me to see this. They're taunting me. Weeks: You can't— Marshall: Do you have some kind of a tracker on you? Weeks: …maybe? Why? Marshall: Get rid of it. They're tracking me through you. Weeks: Marshall, you're being paranoid. Marshall: Someone just fucking got killed with someone else's cremains, Weeks. There are… okay, assuming they're only copying people who died at the school, and not anyone else… we have three more chances to stop them. But we have to figure out a pattern in who they're targeting. Weeks: Do you know this woman? Marshall: She's about my age, so… I probably went to school with her. Actually… wait, that ring she has. Weeks: You recognize it? Marshall: It's an end-of-watch ring. Tradition some cops have, they're given out to family if they're killed in the line of duty. There's probably a date on it. Weeks puts on a pair of gloves and lifts the woman's wrist to inspect the ring. Weeks: 5/20/12. 'Miss you, dad'. Are any of the other victims related to the original kills? Marshall: …I hadn't even considered that. We all went to school together, and it's such a small town. Most of us might be cousins, honestly. Weeks: Let's check it out. Investigation found that all of the victims in the 2022 killings were related, either by blood or by marriage, to the original victims of the 2012 slaying. Abigail North's cousin Brandon had married into Gwendolyn Marshall's family in 2015. Gary Nicholson and Dave Wyatt were, respectively, first cousin of Arnold Jameson and step-brother of Max Parker. The two unidentified, cognitohazardous cadavers showed genetic markers which indicated that the female cadaver was an aunt of Eric Striker, and the male cadaver the uncle of Carlie Planter. Alice Kirby was Mandie Jones's half-sister, from another marriage. Suzanne Allan, the waitress whose death Weeks and Marshall witnessed, was the daughter of Mark Allan, the first victim among the HCPD. Working on this information, Weeks contacted the Foundation and attempted to render all living family members of the three remaining victims into protective custody. In the process, Marshall— who had agreed to wear a body camera on behalf of Weeks, in the event that they became separated— had the following encounter: Marshall is in Gardener's Grocery Store, the largest extant grocer in Hunter's Creek, having taken the place of Walker's following Arnoldson's spree. She is waiting to speak to the manager, Elliot Cameron, brother of Kyra Cameron, one of the final victims of the original spree. As she waits by the register, she is approached by Dr. Malcolm Robinson. Robinson is carrying a plastic grocery bag with a round object in it, possibly a watermelon. Dr. Robinson: Heard you caught a big break in the case, Wendy. Marshall: Don't call me that. I'm not your patient anymore. Dr. Robinson: Mm-hmm. But aren't we still friends? Marshall: …you lost your privileges to address me as anything other than "Ms. Marshall" at our last session. I still don't know what the fuck you were thinking. Dr. Robinson: It's been five years at this point, Wendy. Didn't we talk about moving past trauma? Marshall's hand obscures the body camera, briefly. An impact is heard, and when Marshall's camera turns on Robinson again, he is bleeding from his nose. Dr. Robinson: I suppose I do deserve that. Marshall: No shit. Leave me alone. Dr. Robinson shrugs and makes their way out the front door. Marshall is joined by Weeks approximately thirty seconds later. Weeks: Any idea why someone just walked out of here with a broken nose? Marshall: He decided to get smart with me. Marshall notices a bloodstain on the ground where Dr. Robinson was standing, approximately 10cm across. Marshall: Jesus. Didn't think I hit him that hard. He on blood thinners? Weeks: …his collar was barely red when I saw him. What the… Marshall's camera follows a trail of blood towards the manager's office. Weeks: …what the fuck? Weeks and Marshall make their way to the office. Within, they find a decapitated[COGNITOHAZARD REMOVED]. The spray from the decapitated body has formed a flower-like pattern on the ceiling. Marshall covers her camera. Weeks: …holy shit. That's… Marshall: Who we came here to find. Dammit. That must… wait, that has to mean that… my old therapist is a serial killer? Weeks: What? What sense does that make? Marshall: …okay, so I… there's something I need to tell you about Dr. Robinson. Weeks: I'm calling the feds first, then you can tell me everything you want. Interviewer: Dr. Malcolm Robinson Date of Interview: 09/07/2017 Session #: 157 Dr. Robinson: How do you do it? Marshall: Do what? Dr. Robinson: Less than four years as a P.I., and you hold a state record for missing persons found. Marshall: A lot of them just… were dumb kids who ran away from a bad situation. I helped get them out of it, to a degree. Dr. Robinson: What about the Saldego case? Marshall: Pure luck. Dr. Robinson: And am I to understand that you were shot? Twice? Marshall: They were flesh wounds. What are you getting at? Dr. Robinson: Do you believe that Gregory Arnoldson was normal, in life? Marshall: He was a fucking whackadoo who killed over fifteen people! How is that 'normal'?! Dr. Robinson: There exist certain archetypes in the world, ones that you and Gregory lined up with perfectly. Gregory was the hunter, the ultimate killer, the unbreakable knife, but somehow… somehow, he ended up dying to a woman. One he tried to kill, but ultimately survived. Someone who kept themselves and their lives private, until they rose up to the occasion and… Marshall: Is this a joke, or did you take shrooms while watching Cabin in the Woods back-to-back with Behind the Mask? My life is not a goddamn slasher movie. Dr. Robinson: I didn't say anything about it, but you did notice the parallels. You are a conduit, Gwendolyn. And I believe that, in the moment you slew Gregory, you obtained some of his power. Marshall: Go fuck yourself. I'm done. Dr. Robinson: Wendy, get back he— Recording is interrupted. Dr. Robinson: P-patient was… intensely… uncooperative. Project Ant Hill should be… should be suspended until… until further notice. Son of a bitch, I think she broke my fucking arm! Marshall and Weeks are in the former's office. Marshall's board has been updated to include a picture of Robinson. Marshall is looking through the room. Marshall: Someone's been in here. Weeks: What do you mean? Marshall: My gun's missing. Marshall picks up her chair, revealing torn tape underneath it. Marshall: And so is my spare. Shit. Robinson must know we've rumbled him. Marshall approaches a window with a flower box in it and opens it, inhaling the air from outside. Marshall: Did you know that in 2021, there was an average of one mass casualty incident— Weeks: Every twelve and a half hours, give or take. Yeah. I'm aware. Which is why I'm surprised you own guns, plural. Marshall: I only use it when I need it, and right now, I really need it. They're all gone, god dammit. Marshall turns to the board. Marshall: Robinson's a Global Founder too, isn't he? Weeks: …different department from me. But… Marshall: What the fuck got into him? And what's with… Marshall pins a photograph of the flower-like sigil found at the crime scenes on her board. Marshall: The hell is with this? Copycat killing where you mutilate the relatives I can see some sick logic behind, but… they call him the 'Wallflower Killer'. I used to call myself a wallflower a whole bunch. Is he… has he been taunting me this whole time? Weeks: …I need to look something up. Marshall: Go for it. Weeks pulls up the original SCP-8097 file, which concerns Gregory Arnoldson, reading the updated containment procedures. Weeks: Do you know where Arnoldson is buried? Marshall: Yeah, I visit there once a month to make sure nobody vandalizes his grave. Silence on the recording. Weeks is heard clearing his throat. Marshall's expression turns consternated. Marshall: I was hired to do it by his sister. It's the only steady paycheck I have at this point. Weeks: …he has a sister? Marshall: Julia. She lives in Oregon, so she's probably not in danger. Weeks: Where's he buried, Marshall? Marshall: Flower Street Cemetery. Right by the… western… wall. Several seconds of silence. Marshall: …can you look up where this sick motherfucker lives? Weeks: One sec. Weeks paces the room, searching on their phone for Dr. Robinsons whereabouts. He finds an address after several seconds. Weeks: Shit. He's literally across the street from it. Marshall: What?! Weeks: Apparently he bought an old funeral home? Fuck if I… look, we know where he is, and we gotta stop him. Marshall: I… don't think he's there, Allan. Weeks: What? Where do you think he is? Marshall nods over Weeks's shoulder. He turns, and sees Dr. Robinson standing behind him, holding a chef's knife, approximately 33cm in length. Dr. Robinson: You know, studies have shown that people are less likely to scream at the sight of a knife, as opposed to the sight of a gun. And this particular knife is… special. Weeks: Bullshit. The Genovese knife got melted down after that fiasco with O'Brien. Dr. Robinson: Ah, you have a discerning eye, Agent. This is only a replica, I'll grant you that. But a knife is a knife. Dr Robinson approaches Weeks. Weeks draws their weapon in response. Dr. Robinson: Allan. Stop Carrying Pistols. Agent Weeks drops their weapon as a memetic trigger phrase is spoken. Dr. Robinson: I'm not going to kill you, don't worry. You have no part in this ritual. But I do need to slow you down. Weeks: What ritual? Wendy, run! Dr. Robinson: Gwendolyn, if you climb out that window, his esophagus is going to get a clear view of the ceiling. Allan, Project Ant Hill was a disastrous failure because we couldn't replicate 8097's anomalous abilities. I didn't have anywhere else to go. They gave me a nice severance package, didn't even bother with the amnestics! But something like him only comes around once in a generation. Weeks: So, what, you're going to bring him back from the dead? He was cremated specifically to prevent that from happening, dumbass. Dr. Robinson: Oh, no. I'm not going to bring him back. But I'm going to make sure that his powers find a new vessel, finally, since it doesn't seem to have taken with this murder-obessed bi— A gunshot rings out, and Robinson suddenly clutches their shoulder, gasping in pain. Blood emerges from the wound as they clutch their shoulder Dr. Robinson: Wh— you paranoid bitch! I got all your guns! Marshall: Nobody thinks to look in the flower box. Robinson flees out of her office. Marshall discharges her weapon two more times, shattering the window on her door. Cursing, she approaches Weeks. Marshall: Allan, are you okay? Weeks: Yeah. We gotta follow him. If he can't get to the victims, he's in the endgame now. Marshall: The hell did you mean, 'the Genovese Knife'? Weeks: Well, that's a long story. The knife that was used to murder Kitty Genovese was an anomalous— Marshall: —was a hunting knife, not a kitchen knife. I've seen it in person. Weeks: …you know what? I'll ruminate on that later. I… look, if I try to pick up my gun right now, I'd literally have a blood vessel burst in my brain, long story. I can drive, though. Marshall: Let's head to this son-of-a-bitch's hideout. Time to end this. Marshall and Weeks pull up to 12 Flower Street. It is a large house, three storeys tall, converted from a funeral parlor into residential living space, with approximately 278m3 of interior space, constructed in the 1960s. Marshall is in the passenger's seat. Marshall: What's that Ant Hill thing he was talking about? Weeks: It's… there's a department where I work that focuses on trying to make humans into living weapons. Robinson was part of that department, and he thought that Arnoldson was naturally one of these. He also thought that the… condition was transmissible. Marshall How? Weeks: He theorized that Arnoldson's mother got it from accidentally hitting that pedestrian, and Arnoldson got it from her somehow. Marshall: …I knew Greg killed his mom. He started acting weird right after she died. But… I killed him. Weeks: And clearly that theory didn't stick, because you aren't… Silence on the recording. Weeks: …Tylenol with Everclear… Marshall: Let's talk about this later. Right now— The windshield shatters abruptly, and Marshall's dialog, and breathing, abruptly ceases. Weeks: Holy shit. W-Wendy? Marshall? Oh, fuck… holy shit, that… oh god, I'm… dammit. Robinson! Weeks dives out of their vehicle as more shots ring out. They are holding the replica knife that Robinson dropped earlier. Weeks: God, fucking memetics. Weeks takes cover at a corner of the house, attempting to pinpoint the location that he is being shot from. Frame analysis from this period of time indicates that Marshall has vanished from Weeks's vehicle; this is not acknowledge by Weeks. Weeks: Robinson! Come out and fight like a man, you son of a bitch! The fuck is he up to? Weeks attempts to gain entry into Robinson's house. The walls are covered by memorabilia related to true crime, including photographs of several serial murderers, and replicas of bladed and blunt weapons which were used in their sprees. Weeks: …shit, I need backup. Footsteps are heard overhead. Weeks makes their way to a staircase; however, they stop at the bottom. Weeks: A fucking tripwire? What's it connected to? Weeks follows the wire and discovers a wooden panel in the hallway is lose; behind it is a Claymore mine. Weeks disables it and continues upstairs. Weeks: You son of a bitch. You fucking psycho. All this for what? Just so you could try to gain his power? What does that accomplish? Weeks turns down the hallway, and sees Robinson in a far room, crouched over a sniper rifle. As he begins to approach, the door abruptly closes. Weeks: The hell? Dr. Robinson: H— who are— how did you— no, of course, it makes sense. You inaudible looked away for no more than inaudible seconds. It's miraculous, you— Screams ring out as Dr. Robinson's dialog is interrupted. Weeks attempts to open the door, but finds it blocked. Over a minute later, it opens, and Weeks finds Gwendolyn Marshall standing over a pile of eviscerated remains. The only aspect recognizable as Malcolm Robinson is his severed head, which Marshall is holding. Marshall is notably not covered in any blood spatter. Weeks: …Wendy… drop the head. Marshall: What, you think I'm going to kill you, Allan? After everything we've been through? Weeks: Considering you lied to me about being an anomaly… Marshall: To be fair, at first, I thought you were just. An amateur investigator. I thought that 'I have superpowers that make me good at being a serial killer' would be a hard sell. Marshall frowns. I guess this is the part where you take me in, then? Weeks: …I'm afraid so. Weeks takes out his phone. Marshall: Managed to keep this a secret for a decade. Of course you turn out to be— Marshall's eyeline is drawn to something on Weeks' chest. The body camera picks up a weak glow, as if from the screen of a phone. Marshall: …Allan… Weeks: What? Marshall: Run. Weeks turns to leave the room; as he does, his body camera becomes abruptly disconnected. Allan Weeks was later found, alive, in the trunk of his own vehicle; after-action testimony claims that Marshall (now designated SCP-8097-A) abruptly assaulted and subdued him, before fleeing to parts unknown. Currently, Marshall is at large, and is considered a Keter-class threat, due to the difficulty of tracking and containment. Footnotes 1. Due to the proliferation of violence at American schools, some institutions do assessments of how likely certain students—typically those with developmental disabilities, disciplinary issues, or failing academic grades—are to instigate mass casualty events. 2. A defunct video hosting website dedicated to hosting unedited footage of war, politics and world events to foster ‘civilian journalism’. 3. A small floral arrangement worn by men during formal occasions; the female equivalent is the corsage. 4. The Hunter’s Creek School District had illegally installed an array of microphones within the restrooms and locker rooms of its elementary, middle, and high schools, typically hidden within the PA system speakers. 5. This event is corroborated by police reports and school incident reports dated to 2005. 6. Absalom Renard was admitted into juvenile detention in 2010 for a spree of vandalism in Hunter's Creek and other nearby cities. 7. Diana Arnoldson, SCP-8097's mother, died in March 2012 after apparently injecting bleach into her veins instead of heroin. 8. It was determined in 2017 that Marshall had no anomalous properties; as such, no effort was made by Dr. Robinson to retain her as a 'client'. 9. Weeks was chosen in part because of his involvement with the True Crime community, having been a speaker at three small true crime conventions before and during his tenure in the Foundation. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8097" by Ihp, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8097. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: marshall2012-1.jpg Name: prom day 07 197 Author: 02 nation License: CC BY-SA 2.0 DEED Source Link: https://flickr.com/photos/1502/495456051 Additional Notes: (Optional) Filename: marshall2021-1.jpeg Name: Hi. Author: Lucíola Correia License: CC BY 2.0 DEED Source Link: https://www.flickr.com/photos/lucorreia/22566345007 Filename: Collins Middle School, September 2021.jpg Author: Fletcher License: CC 4.0 International Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Collins_Middle_School,_September_2021.jpg |
SCP-8098 | euclid | Item #: SCP-8098 Special Containment Procedures: All instances of SCP-8098 are to be stored within standard containment lockers in Locker Room 8098 at Site-18. Additional copies of the same SCP-8098 instance are to be stored within the same locker for organization purposes. Due to the limited amount of SCP-8098-1, experimentation involving already documented SCP-8098-1 instances is strictly prohibited. Experimentation with SCP-8098-1 shall only be to document the effects of any newly discovered "flavor". Use of SCP-8098-1 in Foundation defenses pending. Description: SCP-8098 refers to a collection of ammunition boxes with the space to contain up to 18 .44 Magnum bullets per box. The bullets inside of SCP-8098 (hereby referred to as SCP-8098-1) display anomalous properties when fired from a .44 Remington Magnum. If SCP-8098-1 is fired from any other kind of firearm, SCP-8098-1 will not display its anomalous properties.1 SCP-8098 are small, cardboard ammunition boxes. All instances of SCP-8098 possess the space to contain up to 18 SCP-8098-1; however, most recovered SCP-8098 do not contain all 18 potential instances of SCP-8098-1. In addition, most recovered instances of SCP-8098 (before 03/08/2009) appear to be opened, implying use prior to Foundation discovery. Designs of SCP-8098 are typically compared to that of cereal boxes, with the logo "Morphic Munitions"2 written in large bubble letters on the front and back sides. Each box has a "flavor", and is decorated in cartoonish artwork relating to said flavor. In addition, some instances of SCP-8098 will have slogans as part of its design, typically being "Try To Collect Them All!", and "So Many Different Flavors To Collect!" Discovery: SCP-8098 was initially discovered during a raid on an abandoned farmstead in ███████, Kansas, believed to contain multiple anomalous objects. Recovered anomalies included SCP-███, SCP-████, and SCP-8098. Most instances of SCP-8098 were discovered neatly stacked on top of each other, and covered by a cloth in the corner of a caved-in barn. Two .44 Remington Magnums with some instances of SCP-8098-1 inside, as well as a few damaged instances of SCP-8098 were also recovered from underneath multiple nearby piles of debris. Currently, no other known locations containing SCP-8098 or SCP-8098-1 have been discovered. The different "flavors" written on SCP-8098 relate to the anomalous properties of the contained SCP-8098-1. When SCP-8098-1 is fired from a .44 Remington Magnum, an object, energy, or concept reflecting its labeled flavor will emerge from the barrel of the fired weapon. Non-liquid matter produced by SCP-8098-1 will typically launch at speeds consistent with a non-anomalous .44 Remington Magnum bullet. Currently recovered "flavors" of SCP-8098 include: Strawberry Coffee Meatball Water Leaf Electricity Rubble Cat Gasoline Hay Mystery Music Dust Entropy Anger Black Hole Recycling Sight Car Teleportation + SCP-8098 Experimentation Log - Close SCP-8098 "Flavor": Strawberry Target: None. Results: Upon firing, a strawberry emerged out of the barrel of the gun, and splattered against the wall. Tests have shown said strawberry to be non-anomalous. SCP-8098 "Flavor": Coffee Target: None. Results: While squeezing the trigger, coffee poured out from the gun's barrel. Trigger was able to be held for approximately 25 seconds before coffee ceased pouring. SCP-8098 "Flavor": Electricity Target: A standard metal spoon. Results: While squeezing the trigger, bolts of electricity shot out from the gun's barrel in seemingly random directions, and caused nearby electronic devices to malfunction. Testing concluded shortly afterward. Additional Note: When the instance of SCP-8098-1 was removed from the chamber of the gun used, it was noticeably smaller than how it was prior to being loaded. SCP-8098"Flavor": Cat Target: None. Results: A gray Felis Catus (American Shorthair) of approximately 3 years of age was launched from the barrel of the gun, and landed on its feet. It did not display any anomalous properties, and was taken to a local animal shelter shortly after analysis. SCP-8098 "Flavor": Entropy Target: None. Results: None. Loaded SCP-8098-1 instance disappeared after fire. SCP-8098"Flavor": Anger Target: D-12832. Results: When fired, the sound of a gunshot was produced, but nothing visible emerged from the barrel. After the gun was fired in D-12832's direction, he became irritated, shouting obscenities and refusing to comply with Foundation Staff for a 2 hour period. SCP-8098 "Flavor": Recycling Target: An empty, plastic water bottle. Results: When fired, the sound of a gunshot was produced, but nothing visible emerged from the barrel. The targeted plastic bottle instantly converted into a small Tupperware container. Additionally, the table that the plastic bottle was placed on turned into a block of solid plastic, as well as a block of solid steel. SCP-8098 "Flavor": Teleportation Target: None. Results: A small, purple ball of light launched out of the gun's barrel. Once colliding with a wall, Dr. ██████ (who fired the weapon) was instantly transported to the part of the wall that the projectile collided with. Clothes, the weapon used, and everything else that was on them was also transported. SCP-8098 "Flavor": Black Hole Target: None. Results: [DATA EXPUNGED] Additional Notes: All instances of SCP-8098 labeled with the "Black Hole" flavor have been moved to a different site. SCP-8098 "Flavor": Mystery Target: None. Results: A Blowpop brand lollipop flew out from the barrel of the gun and shattered into multiple pieces upon collision with the ground. SCP-8098 "Flavor": Mystery Target: None. Results: A grand piano emerged from the end of the gun's barrel and quickly fell onto the ground with substantial damage. SCP-8098 "Flavor": Mystery Target: None. Results: A flame, similar to that of a matchstick or lighter, appeared at the end of the barrel of the weapon used. The trigger of the weapon was able to be held for approximately 28 seconds before the flame died. SCP-8098 "Flavor": Mystery Target: None. Results: A copy of SCP-2081 was launched from the barrel of the gun, and collided with the ground. Additional Notes: Shortly after firing the weapon, a copy of SCP-2081 was reported missing from its containment locker. Due to the results of this test, it is strongly believed that SCP-8098-1 may not create new objects, but rather, replaces its fired bullets with objects from other parts of the world. - Close Addendum-01: On 03/08/2009, Dr. ██████ accidentally left a key to Locker Room 8098 within a locker containing multiple SCP-8098 instances. This mistake went unnoticed for a period of approximately 12 hours. Once Dr. ██████ went back to retrieve the key, a new SCP-8098 instance was in its place. The new SCP-8098 instance had its flavor marked as "key", was sealed, and had 18 SCP-8098-1 within itself. Following this incident, multiple new SCP-8098 instances have been recovered within Site 18. + SCP-8098 Instances Recovered Within Site 18 - Close Location: Site-18 Break Room SCP-8098 "Flavor" Recovered: Coffee Mug Additional Notes: Following the discovery of the new "flavor", Dr. Ena reported that her favorite coffee mug had gone missing. Location: Site-18 Staff Bathroom SCP-8098 "Flavor" Recovered: Sink Additional Notes: A sink within the bathroom was missing after discovery. All piping related to said sink was also missing. Location: D-12932's Temporary Holding Cell SCP-8098 "Flavor" Recovered: Human Additional Notes: D-12932 went missing after discovery of the new SCP-8098 instance, however, the uniform belonging to him was left behind. Location: SCP-2182's Containment Room SCP-8098 "Flavor" Recovered: Mystery Additional Notes: No objects within SCP-2182's Containment Room were reported missing after the discovery of the SCP-8098 instance. - Close Addendum-02: The following is a transcription of a conversation via email relating to SCP-8098 between researchers Dr. Elisa and Dr. Velez. Dr. Velez, I am getting increasingly concerned with the recent developments regarding SCP-8098. With what we have observed, it appears that random objects and people within Site-18 are being turned into new SCP-8098 instances, with no currently discovered means to revert to their previous states. I know that you, and many others are already partly aware of this, but I am surprised by the lack of attention this has been receiving. For all we know, a researcher or an important anomaly within the facility could be next. I theorize that the cause of these effects may be due to the high concentration of SCP-8098 within its dedicated locker room in Site-18. The reason I believe this is due to the fact that, after the first new instance of SCP-8098 was discovered in that locker, more and more have been appearing throughout the facility. Oh, and also, its object class should probably be changed from Safe to Euclid. -Dr. Elisa Dr. Elisa, Firstly, yes, I do believe that an update to SCP-8098's object class would be important regarding its newly discovered traits. Your theory regarding SCP-8098's new trait, while it could be true, obviously cannot be 100% proven, and we cannot take it as fact without definitive proof as to why it occurs. I believe it is important to know why this occurs, so I am open to conducting tests regarding SCP-8098, and finding out whether or not the large concentration of it in one area effects this ability. Please share any ideas regarding tests that could be conducted with SCP-8098. I will try my hardest to put them into effect, within reason, obviously. -Dr. Velez Dr. Velez, I propose that a test be conducted, whereas all instances of SCP-8098 are to be separated from each other and contained throughout different parts of Site-18 over a one month period. During this period, we will see if the effects of SCP-8098 slow down. If its effects slow, then there is a possibility that we may need to store SCP-8098 across multiple facilities, however, that may be thinking a little too far ahead. Either way, more separation would likely be needed. We can discuss further on what to do in the event that SCP-8098's effects do not slow. -Dr. Elisa Shortly after sending this email, SCP-8098's class was changed to Euclid. Additionally, the test proposed by Dr. Elisa was approved. All instances of SCP-8098 were moved into different parts of Site-18, ensuring that all instances were stored a far distance from each other. Over a one month period, all new instances of SCP-8098 were logged, alongside the location and date of appearance. + Log Of New SCP-8098 Instances Between 04/02/2009 - 05/02/2009 - Close Date: 04/05/2009 Location: Site-18 Mailroom. Recovered SCP-8098 "Flavor": Staples Additional Notes: This was the first time an SCP-8098 instance had its flavor pluralized. Upon firing the contained SCP-8098-1, approximately 100 staples emerged from the end of the weapon used, and penetrated a nearby wall. Date: 04/09/2009 Location: Outside of Site-18. Recovered SCP-8098 "Flavor": Tree Additional Notes: This was the first time an SCP-8098 instance appeared outside of Site-18 after its initial recovery. Date: 04/16/2009(?) Location: Dr. ████'s office. Recovered SCP-8098 "Flavor": Fingernail Clipping Additional Notes: Due to Dr. ████'s absence for two days prior to the recovery of this SCP-8098 instance, it is unknown exactly when it may have appeared. Date: 04/23/2009 Location: Site-18 Roof. Recovered SCP-8098 "Flavor": Sunlight Additional Notes: While testing the contained SCP-8098-1, the weapon exploded when its trigger was pulled. Dr. Kel, who fired the weapon, received third degree burns on all parts of his body that were hit by the pieces of the gun. All pieces of the weapon were recorded to be approximately 5,500° C shortly after firing, but did not melt. Any surface that a piece was touching did not melt, either. After multiple days, the pieces eventually cooled off, and were able to be disposed of. Date: 05/01/2009 Location: Locker Room 8098. Recovered SCP-8098 "Flavor": Confetti Additional Notes: See Addendum-03. - Close Following the results of the test, and no reported decrease in the appearance of SCP-8098 instances, the test was marked as a failure. Addendum-03: On 05/01/2009, at approximately 23:59, a new instance of SCP-8098 appeared within Locker Room 8098. Despite having its flavor marked as "Confetti", there was no confetti present within Locker Room 8098 for it to be turned into. Additionally, the "Confetti" flavor of SCP-8098 came with a note inside of its box. The following is a transcript of the note. YAYAY! Congratulations!! YOU are the first person to collect THIRTY different flavors of Morphic Munitions™3!! To celebrate this wonderous occasion, here is a UNIQUE, RARE, ONE-OF-A-KIND flavor of Morphic Munitions™ for you to sink your teeth into!! Or… to put into a gun, I guess! Which is okay! We don't care how you use your Morphic Munitions™! The point is, you're the first one to collect thirty unique Morphic Munitions™ flavors, and we wanted to celebrate that!! It wasn't easy to make this one, I'll tell you that haha!! There was no confetti for miles around here!! But that's okay!! YOU deserve it, you amazing little collector you!! Anyhoo, keep your eye out for new waves of Morphic Munitions™ in your area!! :D The following is a transcript of a conversation between Dr. Elisa and Dr. Velez following the failure of the test and discovery of the note. [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Elisa: Well, I guess we'll just get some things out of the way. Dr. Velez: Mhm. Dr. Elisa: The test was a failure… sort of. Dr. Velez: We still do not know for sure if the appearance of new SCP-8098 is due to the high concentration of them in one area, or not. Dr. Elisa: Yeah. Dr. Velez: New SCP-8098 still appeared around Site-18 despite spreading each instance far away from each other across the facility. Dr. Elisa: Yeah… Dr. Velez: However, we may have just gotten a new lead in regards to SCP-8098. Dr. Elisa: Yeah. The uh, the note. Dr. Velez: Remind me - what did it say, again? Dr. Elisa: So, basically, it appears to be from some kind of entity, or company, or group behind SCP-8098. Essentially, it talks about how the writer of the note is excited to know that someone is "collecting" a lot of SCP-8098. Dr. Velez: Right, right. And we do not know who or what is behind the creation of these things, right? Dr. Elisa: I mean, presumably whoever wrote the note is, but we do not know who or what wrote it. So, no. Oh, and also, whoever it is that wrote the note can… for lack of a better word, see us, I guess? They know that we've been "collecting" SCP-8098, so presumably they've been watching us in some way. Dr. Velez: Yeah, which also means that they're probably aware of the Foundation's existence. Dr. Elisa: I guess, but I'm not entirely sure that they're actually aware of what it is. They only ever commented on how there was a lot of SCP-8098 in the facility, and even then they referred to it as Morphic Munitions, rather than SCP-8098. There was never any implication that they knew exactly what the facility was. They seem pretty ignorant to it all. Dr. Velez: Is there any way that we can communicate back with this thing? Dr. Elisa: As far as I'm aware, no4. Dr. Velez: Shit. The two are silent for a short period. Dr. Velez: Maybe we need to try what you proposed earlier, in that email. Dr. Elisa: What I proposed… oh, moving them to different facilities? Dr. Velez: Yeah. I do not know what to do at this point. There's some kind of… thing behind all of these new SCP-8098, and it doesn't seem like it wants to stop any time soon. Maybe if we start to spread out all of the SCP-8098 across different buildings, it'll think we've stopped "collecting" them, and maybe that we don't want them anymore? Dr. Elisa: That… that could work, maybe. Dr. Velez: I mean, the only other option I see possibly doing anything would be to attempt to destroy them, though that is obviously a much more extreme option. Dr. Elisa: If I was making something for someone, and they destroyed it, I'd probably be pretty upset. Dr. Velez: Yeah, but let's not worry about that now. Should we start trying to spread these things out further? Dr. Elisa: I guess so. [END LOG] On 05/04/2009, a plan was approved to send an evenly-distributed number of SCP-8098 to different facilities in order to see if the amount of newly discovered SCP-8098 would decrease, as well as if any new SCP-8098 would be discovered within other facilities. Addendum-04: On 05/11/2009, a new instance of SCP-8098 was discovered within Dr. Elisa's office. Its flavor was marked as "Confusion" and contained a note inside. Hey, hey!! It's me again! I noticed that it seems like you gave a lot of your Morphic Munitions™ away… haha! Um, was this intentional, by any chance? Regardless, you are… uh… well, you are both the first ones to collect 30 unique Morphic Munitions™ flavors… so, um… yeah. I was just under the impression that you guys liked collecting Morphic Munitions™, so I kept making more for you all! Now, I'm sorta… starting to doubt that… Ohh… actually… you know what? I know why you did all of that!! You wanted to start a new, fresh collection of Morphic Munitions™!! Yeah!! Oh, you guys are so very very kind!! I'll be sure to increase the amount of Morphic Munitions™ you all are able to find, for being such nice collectors!! Yeah yeah!! Oh yes, be sure to collect all of these new, awesome, unique Morphic Munitions™ flavors!! Ha ha!! Following the discovery of this note, instances of SCP-8098 were being discovered in Site-18 at a much higher rate than previously documented. Addendum-04: On 05/15/2009, an order was given to destroy all newly-discovered instances of SCP-8098 and 8098-1 within Site-18. All instances of SCP-8098 and 8098-1 within Site-18 were gathered and sent to the Decommissioning Department. During this time, no new SCP-8098 instances were discovered within Site-18. To test how disposal of SCP-8098-1 may work, one instance of SCP-8098-1 (with the flavor of strawberry) was selected to be melted down. Shortly after the SCP-8098-1 instance was placed within a furnace (and started to melt), it exploded. Upon explosion, approximately 10,000 strawberries were launched in different directions from where the SCP-8098-1 instance originally was. Minor injuries were reported and a clean-up crew was called in afterward. Shortly after this event occurred, a new instance of SCP-8098 materialized on Dr. Velez's desk, containing a note. ACK!! Yes please do not destroy any of the bullets inside of any Morphic Munitions™ containers!!! Bad effects!! Bad bad bad bad bad!!!! You can use them in a gun fine whatever but do not break open any of the bullets!!!! PLEASE!! NO!!! NOO AAGHH!!!! PLEASE!! The rest of the page beyond this point is filled with the word "BAD" repeated over and over. The following is a transcript of a conversation between Dr. Elisa and Dr. Velez regarding the incident at the Decommissioning Department and the new note. [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Elisa: You called me in here? Dr. Velez: Yes. There have been more developments regarding the SCP-8098 situation. Dr. Elisa: Oh? Dr. Velez: All SCP-8098 and 8098-1 in Site-18 were sent to the Decommissioning Department in order to see if it would have an effect on the materialization of new SCP-8098. Dr. Elisa: Oh shit, okay. Dr. Velez: They didn't tell us much, but from what I've gathered, when they tried to destroy a bullet from a strawberry box, it caused hundreds and hundreds of strawberries to explode from where the bullet was. Now, they're sending them all back. Dr. Elisa is staring at Dr. Velez, with her mouth hanging open. Dr. Elisa: Oh. Dr. Velez: Yeah. Interestingly, though, ever since they started to pack up all SCP-8098 into a truck to deliver it to the department, there's been no new SCP-8098 sightings… Dr. Elisa: Huh. Dr. Velez: …besides one. There was this note left in a new SCP-8098 I found on my desk. Dr. Velez slides the note to Dr. Elisa. She reads it. Dr. Elisa: Huh. I don't know what to say, to be honest. Dr. Velez: Well, since SCP-8098 is one of our priorities, they're expecting us to do something about all of this. Dr. Elisa: About what? Dr. Velez: About stopping SCP-8098 from appearing around the facility and converting more shit into itself. Dr. Elisa: Well… you did say that there haven't been any new ones since all of that happened, right? Dr. Velez: Indeed. Dr. Elisa: Well, to me that sort of sounds like we've stopped them from appearing around the facility. Dr. Velez: Temporarily, as far as we're aware. Whatever it is that's behind this could easily decide to turn the whole facility into a box of bullets tomorrow. They're looking for a permanent solution. Dr. Elisa: …Are they not aware that we've already basically tried everything we could? Dr. Velez: I've tried to explain that to them. Dr. Elisa: Well… how about this: So far, we've done everything we can. Currently, there's no new boxes appearing around the facility. Once new boxes start to appear, we try to come up with something we haven't come up with already. Until then, as far as I'm concerned, we don't need to do anything. Dr. Velez: Elisa… Dr. Elisa: I'm serious! We've done everything! We've tried putting notes into the boxes to talk with the thing, that's failed. We've tried to move all of these things to different facilities, and that's failed. We've finally done something that's stopped them from appearing! So, as long as they don't appear again in the future, we should be fine! Dr. Velez: Elisa. Dr. Elisa: If you try to tell me that there's something more that we can do that we haven't already done, I'm gonna lose my fucking- Dr. Velez: ELISA! Dr. Elisa: WHAT?! Dr. Velez: Behind you. Dr. Elisa, confused, turns around and sees a new instance of SCP-8098 sitting on a table. She slowly gets up from her seat, picks it up, opens it, and pulls out a note from inside. Okay, okay fine. I get it. I get the hint :( You guys don't want anymore Morphic Munitions™, is that right? I'm sorry… I just haven't been able to do this in so long. It felt good to finally see someone take interest in what I was making again… but I suppose I can't just force someone to like what I create… :( I'm sorry for turning all of those things into Morphic Munitions™. If I could turn them back, I would, but I don't know how. I hope that you can accept my apology. I didn't want this to get so out of hand, but it seems like it has… I'll be around, still, but I promise to no longer hurt anyone!! I promise!! If I do hurt anyone else in the future, then I'll… I'll feel very bad about it!! I promise!! >:3 Um. But yeah. I'm sorry about everything that's happened. I hope you all don't hate me, but I understand if you do… Uh. Anyways. Goodbye. Dr. Elisa: Huh. Dr. Velez: What is it? Dr. Elisa: Uh… see for yourself. Dr. Elisa hands Dr. Velez the sheet of paper. As he reads, his expression changes from confusion to surprise. Dr. Velez: …huh. Well, uh… Hm. Dr. Elisa: Yeah, I'm uh… also kind of at a loss for words. Dr. Velez: Well, um… this seems like what you were asking for, is it not? Dr. Elisa: Huh? Dr. Velez: You asked for a new solution in order to stop the appearance of new SCP-8098. This… seems to be it right here. Dr. Elisa: Huh… I guess it is. The two are silent for a few seconds. Dr. Velez: Elisa? Dr. Elisa: Yeah? Dr. Velez: I'm sorry. Dr. Elisa: I'm sorry too. [END LOG] Addendum-05: As of 05/15/2009, no new instances of SCP-8098 have been discovered. Footnotes 1. Multiple tests have been conducted while using SCP-8098-1 in other firearms, including those capable of firing .44 Remington bullets. No instances of SCP-8098-1 have displayed their anomalous properties when fired from these firearms. 2. Currently, no manufacturer behind "Morphic Munitions" has been discovered. Additionally, despite the logo being marked as trademarked on all boxes, no record of the name's trademark exists in any database. 3. During the time of this note's appearance, only 29 (including the Confetti flavor) unique SCP-8098 had been contained within Site-18. 4. Attempts have been made to communicate with the entity, such as leaving notes inside of SCP-8098. All attempts have failed. |
SCP-8099 | keter | Siw, Lia and Juno Andersen by the stream, 1910. Item #: SCP-8099 Special Containment Procedures: Children living in Sweden aged 2–12 suspected of ontokinesis or thaumaturgy are to be immediately detained and investigated. The 19th century homestead formerly belonging to the Andersen family is under Foundation purview. Civilians who had met with the Andersen siblings were administered with amnestics and all accounts of the family have been erased from historical records. Due to a lack of information on the entity known as SCP-8099, further containment procedures are not deemed viable. Description: SCP-8099 is the collective designation for the seven siblings known as the Andersen siblings: Siw Andersen, 3 years old Lars Andersen, 4 years old Twins Keno and Meli Andersen, 6 years old Lia Andersen, 7 years old Sven Andersen, 8 years old Juno Andersen, 9 years old In 1910, local authorities in the area of Sala, Sweden received several complaints and reports on the Andersen family, a foster family consisting of the older Ada Andersen and seven orphaned children. These reports largely concerned suspected "witchcraft" and "heresy" among the siblings. Reports mentioned several items that had reportedly been "conjured" by the children, though civilians were first suspected to have been exaggerating strange or odd behavioral traits. However, based on the amount reports accumulated, Foundation researchers opted to survey the Andersen family leading to containment. Dr. Sven Linde was research lead. Addendum 8099-1: Initial interview with the Andersens [BEGIN EXCERPT] Dr. Sven Linde sits on a peg chair in the kitchen of Ada Andersen's 19th century homestead. Their grandmother hurriedly sweeps a whirlwind of children inside. Ada Andersen: Okay, now my darlings, pl- please try to be quiet and say hello to the young doctor from the, uh- the "Foundation", as it were. The siblings jab at each other, sniggering and chattering. When they notice Dr. Linde's presence, a few of them stiffen up. Ada Andersen: Now now, form a line! A beautiful line, just like you did so nicely when the priest was here. The children seem to be attempting to order themselves according to their length. Lia Andersen: Juno! Over there! By Sven! You're the tallest! Stupid- Lia, a blonde long-haired child, pulls Juno to the end of the line. Juno Andersen: Let me go! I can do it myself… MY NAME, is is, Juno! I'm the uh… The tallest of the seven knights! Lia makes a face at Juno. This face seems to resemble an old woman about to scold him. In a moment this face disappears. Lia Andersen: I'm Lia. These are my siblings. Dr. Linde: Well I- Keno & Meli Andersen: We- we, we- are Keno and Meli! Meli Andersen: I have my own island! Keno Andersen: I, uh- I!! I have got these… Keno pulls out a bag of marbles out of their pocket and starts pouring them all out on the floor, having the seven siblings disassemble in order to go after the lost marbles. The second smallest of the bunch is in the process of kicking the marbles away in every direction. Ada Andersen: Oh dear me! Lars! You don't need to kick them away! Lars Andersen: RAAAWR! AAARGH. A moon-eyed toddler is picked up by Ada as to avoid the commotion on the floor. Ada Andersen: This is dear Siw, she hangs along a lot. While most of the children are scrambling on the ground after the marbles, one boy still stands in his place. He looks at Dr. Linde almost with reverence, and raises his hand. Sven Andersen: Nice to meet you doctor. My name is Sven. What's yours? Linde clears his throats and shakes the boy's hand Dr. Linde: My name is also Sven, Sven Linde. What a, uhm… terrific set of siblings you have here. Sven Andersen: They are mostly not in the way. I hope you enjoy your stay. Dr. Linde: Well, we'll see shall we? Now, could I ask your grandmother some questions in private please? Ada Andersen: Oh, my dear, did I call them my grandchildren? That's not exactly true… Dr. Linde: Are you not related? The long-haired child is looking up from underneath the table. Lia Andersen We were left here by our parents! They were poor and unable to keep us! Ada Andersen: Oh my, oh yes I guess that is true. But sometimes, I like to imagine them as my own anyway, because they practically are, little rascals! The siblings have found most of the marbles, and has lost interest in the guest. They swiftly run outside, leaving an eerie silence in the kitchen. Dr. Linde: Have there been any reactions to your foster children's behavior in the area recently? Anything unusual? Ada Andersen: Well, yes there have been some rumours of course. But most people I believe mean well. I don't really believe in having the little ones on a leash. Children should explore for themselves and discover things, the world! I guess that's one of the reasons people react to their open ways. Ada Andersen clears her throat. Dr. Linde: What do folk usually say about your children? Ada smiles and closes her eyes for a brief moment to think. Ada Andersen: Oh well dear, they didn't say much about Sven or Juno, the oldest. When I suddenly had four of them, I started hearing all kinds of comments. That they lied about things, were up to no good, that they had stolen different items and that they were unfaithful… Dr. Linde: And… Is there any truth to this? Ada Andersen: Hmm. Yes, yes I can confirm. I think there have been moments were Juno or Sven or Lia has lied about things that have or have not happened, and I believe together, they have formed quite the band of rascals at points. But never have they sought to harm anyone! It is just their way… I mean, some things are bound to happen when you have seven of them! Dr. Linde: I am not here to judge your children on any accounts of thieving. But I am interested in all the reports I have heard about your children getting their hands on seemingly uncommon items. There have been reports of various innocuous items, such as rope, clothing and toys. However, you also mentioned another item you wanted to show me? Ada Andersen: Yes… Ada audibly sighs as she rises and lifts the seat of the kitchen sofa where a sharp tool is contained. As she puts it on the table, the shining blade reveals that it is a dagger. The grip is wired with leather, and it has a crossguard and pommel out of steel. Dr. Linde: It looks… Brand-new? Ada Andersen: You could cut yourself on it, I made sure to get it away from them as soon as possible. Dr. Linde: And, where could it have come from? Ada Andersen: Well, they could hardly carry it in their hands, let alone steal it! And there's no smith who makes weapons around here. Besides, it looks ancient! It could have belonged to a theatre, but there's no one around. I suspect some company must have dropped it on their way through Sala and they found it in a ditch. Dr. Linde: I suppose it's possible. And it's time I get some time with your children. If you will give me a hand. [END EXCERPT] File photograph of knightly dagger found in the Andersen residence. Addendum 8099-2: Excerpt from Dr. Linde's Logbook [BEGIN EXCERPT] My assistant and I have followed the object of study for a week at this point. We have had some difficulty following the siblings during the days as they often set about in different groups on the grounds of the property. The property, a 19th century homestead includes farmland and woodland, a main building with surrounding economical buildings such as a stable and a barn; pastures behind the main building crossed with a running stream. We try to shadow one group of children at a time and observe their behavior when they are not supervised by their parents, which is often. Seemingly completely undisciplined, the object of study was difficult to keep in conversation or obtain any valuable information from. Although, we did see examples of suspected conjurings. [END EXCERPT] An assistant made several paintings of the siblings during the course of the study. This is the only painting where all seven siblings were present at the same time, playing a game of 'flying machine'. Addendum 8099-3: Observational Logs [BEGIN LOG] Siw, Lars and Lia are running along the stream. They throw pebbles and rocks into the stream. Lia Andersen: Come on, harder! Lars proceeds to lash stones at the stream in a clumsy manner. Siw waddles behind her siblings, picking up dirt and pebbles from the ground before falling on her head, somersaulting in the process. Screeching ensues. Lia rushes toward her. Lia Andersen: No, no no. Siw, get up. You are okay! You are okay. Lia hugs her sister, almost carrying her onward, she picks up her arms and makes her walk as some sort of doll. Siw blurbs out a laughter as she is half-lifted onward. Lia Andersen: We need to follow them! Stop them! Lars has started throwing sticks, bigger rocks and logs into the stream. Lia Andersen: Yes good, wall! Big wall! Siw Andersen: Big wall! Sven Andersen: Are they stopping the serpents? Dr. Linde is caught surprised by this one, coming up from behind him. Sven has blonde hair, blue still eyes, different from the others. Dr. Linde: Stopping the serpents? They're throwing rocks into the stream. Sven looks upon Dr. Linde with unconcerned eyes, acting patiently. Sven Andersen: No, doctor, I think you are mistaken. Dr. Linde: Really? Dr. Linde smirks at the precocious young man who stands honorably with both of his hands behind his back. Sven Andersen: They are needed to stop the great rush of serpents. The serpents' fleet are usually moved to the east because of the tide but since they are allied with the Enemy, they need to be stopped. Dr. Linde starts laughing with no response from the boy. Sven Andersen: Tsk, tsk. How unworldly of you. He uses the word "unworldly" as if it was appropriated from some other source. At the same time, Lars stands on top of a rock in the middle of the stream, seemingly celebrating having repelled the bigger bass and trout of the stream with larger logs and stones. [END LOG] [BEGIN LOG] Keno, Meli and Juno Andersen are in a wooded area on the Andersen's property. Juno seems to lead the other younger ones into the forest, tipping on their toes. Juno Andersen: SCHHH! Quiet! Meli Andersen: I'm trying!! But these thickets are so stingy! Juno Andersen: They'll wake up! Schh! Okay. The company pauses for a brief moment in silence. Juno signals for the others, and then walks into a thicker bushy area. The two younger ones brush their feet against each other. Juno Andersen: I got it! There is a euphoric expression on the faces of the two younger ones as Juno comes out of the bushes, with three white objects in his hands. Meli and Keno: Yay we did it! They didn't wake up! Juno Andersen: Team effort. It slept like a log! The trio bursts out into terrible laughter at this. Dr. Linde: Young boy! What have you got there? The boy is visibly frightened by the sudden movements of Dr. Linde who has shadowed the trio from behind. Juno Andersen: Why this, this is… Juno puts his head down. The three objects that he now has distributed to the other siblings appear to be cones of a cold and soft kind of cream1. Dr. Linde: What in the… Where in god's name have you obtained these? Juno Andersen: The trees… Juno starts to sob. Dr. Linde: Wha-, the trees? What do you… Ah, don't cry like that. Juno Andersen: I'm sorry… I know we are not supposed to take them… But it's almost the end of dormancy… Dr. Linde: Taken them? Did you steal them from someone? Out here in the woods? Suddenly Sven appears out of nowhere and runs right in front of Juno. Sven Andersen: Juno! We can't take those! You know the Gameflies need the nectar of the Wontrees to survive! It is not ours to take. Juno Andersen: B-, b- but the Gameflies aren't here yet… How do you know they will come? Sven Andersen: They will come! They will help us! They have always done so! The bushes that Juno ran into has no remarkable contents different from a normal forest grove. The children continue to emphasize that the soft and cold cream was the nectar of so called "Wontrees". [END LOG] [BEGIN LOG] At a rare occasion, all of the siblings are gathered in an empty pasture field where they convene. Meli Andersen: Oh what can we do? What can we do? Lars Andersen: I can shoot them! I will shoot them, BLAM BLAM. Sven Andersen: No! That is not right. It doesn't work. Lia Andersen: I want to dance! Let's dance! We can use… The the the, the fairies! Lia makes a motion with her hands up in the air. Lars Andersen: I can stomp them! Sven Andersen: Let's dance! The fairies! Keno and Meli Andersen: Fairies! Dance everyone! The group takes each others' hands and start to spin in a circle in the grass. As they lift their legs and swing them across patches of grass, groups of butterflies lift and fly away. Juno Andersen: There! The fairies! Siw Andersen: Fairyyyy! The group continues to stomp and dance around, and at one time motioning toward Dr. Linde to join them in their circle. Dr. Linde stands up with hesitation, but sits himself down again shortly thereafter. [END LOG] Dr. Linde didn't find any items after this last event; however, he noted that the field looked exceptionally "bloomy" after the dancing. He could never confirm that the vegetation had actually changed. Keno, Juno and Lars simulating a 'naval battle' in lake Mälaren. [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Linde has followed the family down to the lake where the children had insisted on going. As Ada didn't dare to challenge the seven-part choir, she gladly made up an excuse to travel to the closest port market. When the group arrives, the children hurry to the brim of the lakeside, and start balancing on the rocks. They shout and make a terrible noise. Keno Andersen: Bah- bah ba!! Get all the people safe. Make them safe! I will build a fort. Keno assembles a pile of small sticks on one of the rocks. Sven Andersen: Quickly, we need to deploy! Deploy the armaments! Deploy defense! Siw Andersen: Defense, defense, defense! Juno Andersen: I'm coming! Meli and Lia throw pebbles into the lake, while Siw stands in a small crevice of water, stomping her bare feet in the water. Sven Andersen: Across the great Ethereal Ocean! Advance! While the boys a moment ago did not seem to carry anything in their pockets, now Juno and Sven carry a few miniature boats with sails that they let loose into the water. Cheering sounds are heard from the siblings behind them. Lia Andersen: Starboard! Portside! Watch out! Sven pushes one of the boats further out with a stick. Juno Andersen: Give em' everything you've got, oh great Fleet of Meneria! The children continue cheering on the little ships, throw pebbles and make waves until they finally celebrate victory. Lars Andersen: They cowards! They flee! The siblings in unison: They fleeeee! Meli Andersen: We win we win we win! Sven Andersen: Look, those cowards flee! Their fleet is decimated. And we have again made our stood our ground! Now we have control over the Ethereal Ocean, rid of serpents and ghouls. But we are not free yet! The Enemy is still out there. Now we must defend our beautiful prairies and lands from the approaching armies. Let us banish them from our lands! The children dance and cheer. There is a sulphury smell in the air. Dr. Linde stares at the rowdy boy and is about to speak when he notices the gunpowder that run from the young boy's hands down onto the ground. [END LOG] Some time during the last days of this summer in 1910, Dr. Linde grew suspicious of an individual allegedly living in the area. The person of interest called himself Stennja and seemed to be an outcast within the society of Sala. His appearance is recorded within one of the observational logs. [BEGIN LOG] A group of the children play in the garden, when they are distracted by a tall man walking past the garden. He takes his hat off and greets the siblings. They run up to the white picket fence and starts an eager conversation with him. He is dressed in a suit colored in a very deep color of black. Dr. Linde hurries up to talk to the man. The siblings in unison: We won Stennja! We did it! Dr. Linde: Well, uhm Linde clears his throat good day to you gentleman. The man's attention is switched from the children to Dr. Linde. Stennja: Oh, I'm sure you did. Did you avert the serpents as well? G'dday t'you Mister. Dr. Linde: So the children have told you about their, uh-, adventures? Stennja: Sure 'nough. They're heroes indeed. Stennja speaks in a northern dialect, typically shortening his words. Dr. Linde: I hope they don't bother the gentleman, when he passes? Stennja: Not'at'all! I'm glad to hear 'em. It's why I'm 'ere. Dr. Linde: You… Come here to visit them? Voluntarily? Stennja chuckles and picks up Siw who gestures for him to pick her up from behind the fence. He holds her in his right arm. Stennja: You've grown. Y'know these kids are not like most. They're allowed a good life. Out here on these grounds they learn to like all of it. Worthless things becomes treasure. There are kingdoms we can never take from them. Hey, Sven! Sven gets up closer to the fence and looks dutiful. Sven Andersen: Yes, Stennja? Stennja whispers something into the boy's ear. Sven looks hesitant at first, but soon lights up and runs into the house. He comes back with the dagger, carefully folded in cloth. He hands it to Stennja who has passed Siw back into the garden. Dr. Linde: Is… Is it yours? How did you come by it? It's at least- Stennja: An old relic… Yes it's as old as it looks. Been passed down for generations. I lost it somewhere here, good thing Sven could take care of it for me for a while. Stennja gives Sven a wink and puts his hat back on. Stennja: Well, I've gotten what I needed. I'll see you a- Dr. Linde: Okay, well listen sir. I am afraid that item needs to stay here. Dr. Linde pulls out a few papers of documentation. Dr. Linde: You see, we are from the authorities and we would highly appreciate if everything could stay on the properties so far. We might uh- need it for a while… Stennja: What, is something wrong? Dr. Linde: We are just looking into these children, whether they belong here, linde clears his throat in this foster family. I can not tell you much but I can assure you will get your heirloom back. Stennja hesitantly hands the dagger to Linde. Stennja: I sure hope I can trust the authorities with it. Dr. Linde: Or we can simply rely on Sven again, can't we Sven? For you to take care of it a little while longer? Sven looks on with a puzzled gaze. Stennja: Hmph, indeed. Stennja nods his hat before making his way down the road again. [END LOG] Addendum-8099-4: Excerpt from Dr. Linde's Log Book June 18th 1910 Dr. Linde assumed to have sufficient evidence to detain the orphans to Site-80 along with their foster parent, Mrs. Andersen. After this detainment, Dr. Linde made the following profile of the seven children. [BEGIN EXCERPT] Juno Andersen, 9 years of age. Mousy hair. Sensitive and dumb. Has an affinity for conjuring a cold kind of cream. Sven Andersen, 8 years of age. Blonde. Overly adult. Has conjured gunfire. Wants to be the hero. Lia Andersen, 7 years of age. Longer blonde hair. Playful but does her duties. Is very good at doing faces; so good at one point I was sure she had turned her face into a golem. The very next moment she had removed this face. Meli Andersen, 6 years of age. Short, blonde hair. Indistinguishable to their twin Keno. Outgoing. Is allegedly in the possession of a private island they visit regularly – investigate. Keno Andersen, 6 years of age Short, blonde hair. Indistinguishable to their twin Meli. Shy. Has shown to be able to conjure many colorful marbles at a time. Lars Andersen, 4 years of age Blonde. Quite aggressive. Has participated in anomalous events however has not performed conjuring directly. Siw Andersen, 3 years of age Small, stubby and with short brown hair. Yabbers quite a lot nonsensically. Will require further testing. [END EXCERPT] Addendum-8099-5: Interrogation with Sven Andersen [BEGIN LOG] Containment chamber # 33, Site-80. 13:10. June 20th 1910. Interrogation commences with Sven Andersen of SCP-8099. Dr. Linde: Hiya, uh. Hi again Sven. Sven is sitting quietly on a bench. Dr. Linde: I'm Dr. Linde. Sven Linde, as I am sure you remember. Now, this- this isn't a time to be angry. We just want to ask you some questions, okay? Sven holds his legs against his chest in a curled up position. He is looking away from Dr. Linde. Dr. Linde: Sven, Sven? Again, I am not here to be angry at you, or blame you for anything. I represent, an organization, a group… We uh- need to talk about your abilities. Your own land… The Ethereal Ocean, and the Wontrees. We would like to know it all. I am sure you know of what I am speaking better than anyone of your siblings. Sven doesn't move and Dr. Linde fidgets in his seat. After a moment of silence, Dr. Linde bends forward toward Sven. Dr. Linde: Listen. We are not, the Enemy. We are not, a part of them. If you want to rid your "world" of the Enemy, we are your strongest bet. Because you are not getting anywhere, without us. Do you understand me? The boy moves, and closes his eyes. Finally, he nods and begins to sob. Sven Andersen: Will you help us with the Enemy? If I answer your questions? Dr. Linde: Doing the opposite will certainly not deal with the Enemy. Your best bet is just to tell us all you know about it. We-, we will see what we can do. Sven Andersen: What we see is not visible to you, that I have known for a very long time. You are unworldly, like most. I hardly believe, you will be able to do anything against the Enemy. The Enemy is not a human being, not even a being. The Enemy has always, throughout our lives, moved closer. It is the shadow that puts nature under its forcing hand. We have been told by a great knight, that we must block the many minions of the Enemy to protect the land. Dr. Linde: You don't seem to be able to travel to this world you are speaking about. I can see you perfectly clear. On the other hand, several items have appeared here. Can you explain these? Sven Andersen: These items have always been here. This is our world. Dr. Linde: I thought you said the world was your own? Sven Andersen: There is only one world. But you don't seem to see its forthcoming demise. Dr. Linde: Maybe there's a chance of avoiding this… If we let you and your siblings out of your chambers for a little while? Dr. Linde looks over his glasses with a smile. Sven Andersen strokes his feet on the bench. [END LOG] Addendum-8099-6: Test Logs June 20th, 1910 Sven Linde requested further testing in order to see the extent of the children's ontokinetic abilities. Test #: 1 Subject: Lars Andersen Place: Containment Chamber 34 Complementary Items: A cardboard box. The young boy was made aware of a carton box that had been supplied during lunch time. Without knowing he was being supervised, the boy immediately took interest in the box, lifting it up, throwing it against the wall and hiding inside of it. When the boy was concealed under the box, a violent screaming and thrashing could be heard. The box was split in two when the boy rose up again and started stomping the parts of the box flat. When the boy was seen slicing the cardboard apart with means of a rusty key, guards intervened. The boy loudly protested: "GET OFF PRISON GUARDS! I GOT THE KEY. I KILLED YOUR SERVANT! DEAD DEAD DEAD!" A new containment chamber of higher security classification is considered as the conjured key perfectly fit the lock of the door to chamber 34. Test #: 2 Subject: Keno & Meli Andersen Place: On Site-80 grounds, supervised by a team of researchers and security personnel. Complementary Items: A wooden canoe with paddles is left together with the twins. The ground of the site allows for activities on bigger patches of grassland. The twins were let outside into the yard where the canoe was centered. They first approached the canoe with curiosity. Keno grabbed the paddle and wildly swung it against the ground while Meli rocked the boat. Soon however, they started pleading to the surrounding personnel for help. Apparently, their play had been interrupted by the perimeter fence. Finally, Dr. Linde conversed with them on the issue and was informed that a certain island had been "overrun by Bigfeet" and that the perimeter fence blocked the twins from reaching said island. Test #: 3 Subject: Lia & Juno Andersen Place: The siblings were supervised in a small wooded area. Complementary Items: No supplementary items. The siblings were encouraged to obtain that cone with cold cream in order to replicate the effects found during the observational period. However, the two were sceptical as there were "more important things to do". At last, Juno scouted the wood with more and more tension in his body. He started shouting incomprehensible words to nearby trees and started to claw at the ground screaming: "They're all gone! All gone! They have fled! Come help us someone!" Test #: 4 Subject: Sven Andersen Place: Outside the perimeters of Site-80. Complementary Items: Upon the object's request, a knightly dagger. It is also of note that the object required the help of Dr. Linde in order for this test to be realized. The boy was supervised when he led Dr. Linde to a nearby creek. "This is what we need to do. We need to cross this river…" The young boy paused and looked for Dr. Linde's understanding. While the doctor looked admittedly puzzled on this ordeal, he had rather wanted the boy to show what he knew rather than return to the state he was in before; As such, Linde clumsily followed the boy across the creek on a few rocks. Suddenly, the two began a fearsome "fight", with an invisible being. While Dr. Linde had lost his composure and looked shocked at the same time, the young boy straddled around on the ground and in the grass. "No!" the boy shouted and started to weep. The sword he recently had held in his hand had broken in half. Test #: 5 Subject: Siw Andersen Place: Containment Chamber 55 Complementary Items: An assortment of toys suitable for toddlers such as a ball and various building blocks. The toddler had crept up by the window of her chamber when her carer came in with the toys. She met these new supplies with a joyous cackle, waddled towards them and picked the ball up. However, as she held it she slowly started looking around the room. She soon started crying. The ball was dropped and the toddler sat down on the floor. Dr. Linde intervened, and sat down with the toddler for a moment, briefly stating, "You're not very magic are you, little one" before he was suddenly startled. He looked around the room, and called for the testing to stop and that the carer take over. Addendum-8099-7: Excerpt from Dr. Linde's Log Book [BEGIN EXCERPT] Working with the children so far have led us to draw four conclusions. Firstly, the children are not capable of conjuring items of their own will. In general, they do not seem particularly strong. Secondly, our world is interpreted as just as real as theirs. Thirdly, there is another world. However, if this world is conjured by the children, or existent all of itself is not clear. Being in contact with the object has allowed me to get brief glimpses of this world. It is a vast land with an impending threat threatening its nature and its people. Objects in this world have its own equivalent in the other world, a creek can become a river, a puddle can become a lake and a containment chamber can become a dungeon. Fourthly, this impending threat has revealed characteristics such as empathy and playfulness. The children do not differ much in this regard to other human children. With these conclusions in mind, I will recommend a lower level of classification and security protocol to be implemented. [END EXCERPT] Addendum-8099-8: Incident Log June 30th, 1910 SCP-8099 along with Ada Andersen escaped containment. Witnesses described an unstoppable force, which ripped apart doors and chambers for the children to run out into Site-80 grounds and onward. Security staff along with research lead Dr. Linde made their way out but were apprehended by a new perimeter fence and a man in a suit who stood waiting. [OPEN LOG] The suited man had met Dr. Linde before and introduced himself as "Stennja" once again. Dr. Linde: It's… You? Stennja: I've come to collect my kids. I thought I'd let them have some fun with you but… This is a place of nightmares. Dr. Linde: You've… Collected them? Where have you taken them? Stennja: Somewhere you can't reach. Don't worry. They are safer, and most importantly, more stimulated than with you. Dr. Linde: What is your relation to these kids? You said they were yours? You know of their… Abilities, so to speak? Stennja: I've known them all their life. I have followed them ever since I left them. Dr. Linde: You, you were the one who left them there? Stennja: We, left them. Ada Andersen is a righteous being, with a heart of gold. We don't trust ourselves with raising our own spawn. And so, we leave them. We left all of them, as they'd be happy. As you've seen. Dr. Linde pauses for a minute. Stennja puts his hat on to turn. Dr. Linde: Could we, could we meet with them again? Could we talk more? Stennja: Not if you so tried. They are in our land now. It's time I head back too. It was nice meeting you doctor. Dr. Linde: I understand, but what if there could be some arrangement made, maybe- When Dr. Linde looks up he notices that the suited figure has vanished. [CLOSE LOG] SCP-8099 have been unaccounted for since this incident in 1910 and no further documentation has been collected other than a single letter that Linde received in 1911. Addendum 8099-9: Letter Addressed to Dr. Linde Deer Doctor Sven, We ar home now. The won tres cam back and we usd ther help and the geimflys to fait the enemy. it tok som time. now we live with stenja in his Castel. we got You a piture You ar not veri scary doctor can You ryite back LOVE keno siv Lars meli Lia Sven JUNO Footnotes 1. This cream has later been interpreted as a kind of soft ice cream which had not been invented until the 1920s. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8099" by Nils Severin, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8099. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Name: Tornersvärd, kort Author: Livrustkammaren License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Tornersv%C3%A4rd_Sverige_1776-1800,_klingan_Solingen_ca_1600-1650_-_Livrustkammaren_-_34720.tif Additional Notes: Name: Barn lekande vid ån Author: August Malmström License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:August_Malmstr%C3%B6m_-_Barn_lekande_vid_%C3%A5n.jpg Additional Notes: Name: Lekande barn - sommar på fäbodvallen Author: Allan Österlind License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Allan_%C3%96sterlind_-_Lekande_barn_-_sommar_p%C3%A5_f%C3%A4bodvallen.jpg Additional Notes: Name: Lekande pojkar på stranden Author: Albert Edelfelt License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Albert_Edelfelt_-_Boys_Playing_on_the_Shore_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg#mw-jump-to-license Additional Notes: Name: Tattershall Castle, Lincolnshire, England Abstract/medium: 1 negative : glass ; 5 x 7 in. or smaller. Author: Bain News Service, publisher - Library of Congress Catalog License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Tattershall_Castle,_Lincolnshire,_England_LCCN2014689737.tif Additional Notes: Cropped by me |
SCP-8099 | uncontained | Siw, Lia and Juno Andersen by the stream, 1910. Item #: SCP-8099 Special Containment Procedures: Children living in Sweden aged 2–12 suspected of ontokinesis or thaumaturgy are to be immediately detained and investigated. The 19th century homestead formerly belonging to the Andersen family is under Foundation purview. Civilians who had met with the Andersen siblings were administered with amnestics and all accounts of the family have been erased from historical records. Due to a lack of information on the entity known as SCP-8099, further containment procedures are not deemed viable. Description: SCP-8099 is the collective designation for the seven siblings known as the Andersen siblings: Siw Andersen, 3 years old Lars Andersen, 4 years old Twins Keno and Meli Andersen, 6 years old Lia Andersen, 7 years old Sven Andersen, 8 years old Juno Andersen, 9 years old In 1910, local authorities in the area of Sala, Sweden received several complaints and reports on the Andersen family, a foster family consisting of the older Ada Andersen and seven orphaned children. These reports largely concerned suspected "witchcraft" and "heresy" among the siblings. Reports mentioned several items that had reportedly been "conjured" by the children, though civilians were first suspected to have been exaggerating strange or odd behavioral traits. However, based on the amount reports accumulated, Foundation researchers opted to survey the Andersen family leading to containment. Dr. Sven Linde was research lead. Addendum 8099-1: Initial interview with the Andersens [BEGIN EXCERPT] Dr. Sven Linde sits on a peg chair in the kitchen of Ada Andersen's 19th century homestead. Their grandmother hurriedly sweeps a whirlwind of children inside. Ada Andersen: Okay, now my darlings, pl- please try to be quiet and say hello to the young doctor from the, uh- the "Foundation", as it were. The siblings jab at each other, sniggering and chattering. When they notice Dr. Linde's presence, a few of them stiffen up. Ada Andersen: Now now, form a line! A beautiful line, just like you did so nicely when the priest was here. The children seem to be attempting to order themselves according to their length. Lia Andersen: Juno! Over there! By Sven! You're the tallest! Stupid- Lia, a blonde long-haired child, pulls Juno to the end of the line. Juno Andersen: Let me go! I can do it myself… MY NAME, is is, Juno! I'm the uh… The tallest of the seven knights! Lia makes a face at Juno. This face seems to resemble an old woman about to scold him. In a moment this face disappears. Lia Andersen: I'm Lia. These are my siblings. Dr. Linde: Well I- Keno & Meli Andersen: We- we, we- are Keno and Meli! Meli Andersen: I have my own island! Keno Andersen: I, uh- I!! I have got these… Keno pulls out a bag of marbles out of their pocket and starts pouring them all out on the floor, having the seven siblings disassemble in order to go after the lost marbles. The second smallest of the bunch is in the process of kicking the marbles away in every direction. Ada Andersen: Oh dear me! Lars! You don't need to kick them away! Lars Andersen: RAAAWR! AAARGH. A moon-eyed toddler is picked up by Ada as to avoid the commotion on the floor. Ada Andersen: This is dear Siw, she hangs along a lot. While most of the children are scrambling on the ground after the marbles, one boy still stands in his place. He looks at Dr. Linde almost with reverence, and raises his hand. Sven Andersen: Nice to meet you doctor. My name is Sven. What's yours? Linde clears his throats and shakes the boy's hand Dr. Linde: My name is also Sven, Sven Linde. What a, uhm… terrific set of siblings you have here. Sven Andersen: They are mostly not in the way. I hope you enjoy your stay. Dr. Linde: Well, we'll see shall we? Now, could I ask your grandmother some questions in private please? Ada Andersen: Oh, my dear, did I call them my grandchildren? That's not exactly true… Dr. Linde: Are you not related? The long-haired child is looking up from underneath the table. Lia Andersen We were left here by our parents! They were poor and unable to keep us! Ada Andersen: Oh my, oh yes I guess that is true. But sometimes, I like to imagine them as my own anyway, because they practically are, little rascals! The siblings have found most of the marbles, and has lost interest in the guest. They swiftly run outside, leaving an eerie silence in the kitchen. Dr. Linde: Have there been any reactions to your foster children's behavior in the area recently? Anything unusual? Ada Andersen: Well, yes there have been some rumours of course. But most people I believe mean well. I don't really believe in having the little ones on a leash. Children should explore for themselves and discover things, the world! I guess that's one of the reasons people react to their open ways. Ada Andersen clears her throat. Dr. Linde: What do folk usually say about your children? Ada smiles and closes her eyes for a brief moment to think. Ada Andersen: Oh well dear, they didn't say much about Sven or Juno, the oldest. When I suddenly had four of them, I started hearing all kinds of comments. That they lied about things, were up to no good, that they had stolen different items and that they were unfaithful… Dr. Linde: And… Is there any truth to this? Ada Andersen: Hmm. Yes, yes I can confirm. I think there have been moments were Juno or Sven or Lia has lied about things that have or have not happened, and I believe together, they have formed quite the band of rascals at points. But never have they sought to harm anyone! It is just their way… I mean, some things are bound to happen when you have seven of them! Dr. Linde: I am not here to judge your children on any accounts of thieving. But I am interested in all the reports I have heard about your children getting their hands on seemingly uncommon items. There have been reports of various innocuous items, such as rope, clothing and toys. However, you also mentioned another item you wanted to show me? Ada Andersen: Yes… Ada audibly sighs as she rises and lifts the seat of the kitchen sofa where a sharp tool is contained. As she puts it on the table, the shining blade reveals that it is a dagger. The grip is wired with leather, and it has a crossguard and pommel out of steel. Dr. Linde: It looks… Brand-new? Ada Andersen: You could cut yourself on it, I made sure to get it away from them as soon as possible. Dr. Linde: And, where could it have come from? Ada Andersen: Well, they could hardly carry it in their hands, let alone steal it! And there's no smith who makes weapons around here. Besides, it looks ancient! It could have belonged to a theatre, but there's no one around. I suspect some company must have dropped it on their way through Sala and they found it in a ditch. Dr. Linde: I suppose it's possible. And it's time I get some time with your children. If you will give me a hand. [END EXCERPT] File photograph of knightly dagger found in the Andersen residence. Addendum 8099-2: Excerpt from Dr. Linde's Logbook [BEGIN EXCERPT] My assistant and I have followed the object of study for a week at this point. We have had some difficulty following the siblings during the days as they often set about in different groups on the grounds of the property. The property, a 19th century homestead includes farmland and woodland, a main building with surrounding economical buildings such as a stable and a barn; pastures behind the main building crossed with a running stream. We try to shadow one group of children at a time and observe their behavior when they are not supervised by their parents, which is often. Seemingly completely undisciplined, the object of study was difficult to keep in conversation or obtain any valuable information from. Although, we did see examples of suspected conjurings. [END EXCERPT] An assistant made several paintings of the siblings during the course of the study. This is the only painting where all seven siblings were present at the same time, playing a game of 'flying machine'. Addendum 8099-3: Observational Logs [BEGIN LOG] Siw, Lars and Lia are running along the stream. They throw pebbles and rocks into the stream. Lia Andersen: Come on, harder! Lars proceeds to lash stones at the stream in a clumsy manner. Siw waddles behind her siblings, picking up dirt and pebbles from the ground before falling on her head, somersaulting in the process. Screeching ensues. Lia rushes toward her. Lia Andersen: No, no no. Siw, get up. You are okay! You are okay. Lia hugs her sister, almost carrying her onward, she picks up her arms and makes her walk as some sort of doll. Siw blurbs out a laughter as she is half-lifted onward. Lia Andersen: We need to follow them! Stop them! Lars has started throwing sticks, bigger rocks and logs into the stream. Lia Andersen: Yes good, wall! Big wall! Siw Andersen: Big wall! Sven Andersen: Are they stopping the serpents? Dr. Linde is caught surprised by this one, coming up from behind him. Sven has blonde hair, blue still eyes, different from the others. Dr. Linde: Stopping the serpents? They're throwing rocks into the stream. Sven looks upon Dr. Linde with unconcerned eyes, acting patiently. Sven Andersen: No, doctor, I think you are mistaken. Dr. Linde: Really? Dr. Linde smirks at the precocious young man who stands honorably with both of his hands behind his back. Sven Andersen: They are needed to stop the great rush of serpents. The serpents' fleet are usually moved to the east because of the tide but since they are allied with the Enemy, they need to be stopped. Dr. Linde starts laughing with no response from the boy. Sven Andersen: Tsk, tsk. How unworldly of you. He uses the word "unworldly" as if it was appropriated from some other source. At the same time, Lars stands on top of a rock in the middle of the stream, seemingly celebrating having repelled the bigger bass and trout of the stream with larger logs and stones. [END LOG] [BEGIN LOG] Keno, Meli and Juno Andersen are in a wooded area on the Andersen's property. Juno seems to lead the other younger ones into the forest, tipping on their toes. Juno Andersen: SCHHH! Quiet! Meli Andersen: I'm trying!! But these thickets are so stingy! Juno Andersen: They'll wake up! Schh! Okay. The company pauses for a brief moment in silence. Juno signals for the others, and then walks into a thicker bushy area. The two younger ones brush their feet against each other. Juno Andersen: I got it! There is a euphoric expression on the faces of the two younger ones as Juno comes out of the bushes, with three white objects in his hands. Meli and Keno: Yay we did it! They didn't wake up! Juno Andersen: Team effort. It slept like a log! The trio bursts out into terrible laughter at this. Dr. Linde: Young boy! What have you got there? The boy is visibly frightened by the sudden movements of Dr. Linde who has shadowed the trio from behind. Juno Andersen: Why this, this is… Juno puts his head down. The three objects that he now has distributed to the other siblings appear to be cones of a cold and soft kind of cream1. Dr. Linde: What in the… Where in god's name have you obtained these? Juno Andersen: The trees… Juno starts to sob. Dr. Linde: Wha-, the trees? What do you… Ah, don't cry like that. Juno Andersen: I'm sorry… I know we are not supposed to take them… But it's almost the end of dormancy… Dr. Linde: Taken them? Did you steal them from someone? Out here in the woods? Suddenly Sven appears out of nowhere and runs right in front of Juno. Sven Andersen: Juno! We can't take those! You know the Gameflies need the nectar of the Wontrees to survive! It is not ours to take. Juno Andersen: B-, b- but the Gameflies aren't here yet… How do you know they will come? Sven Andersen: They will come! They will help us! They have always done so! The bushes that Juno ran into has no remarkable contents different from a normal forest grove. The children continue to emphasize that the soft and cold cream was the nectar of so called "Wontrees". [END LOG] [BEGIN LOG] At a rare occasion, all of the siblings are gathered in an empty pasture field where they convene. Meli Andersen: Oh what can we do? What can we do? Lars Andersen: I can shoot them! I will shoot them, BLAM BLAM. Sven Andersen: No! That is not right. It doesn't work. Lia Andersen: I want to dance! Let's dance! We can use… The the the, the fairies! Lia makes a motion with her hands up in the air. Lars Andersen: I can stomp them! Sven Andersen: Let's dance! The fairies! Keno and Meli Andersen: Fairies! Dance everyone! The group takes each others' hands and start to spin in a circle in the grass. As they lift their legs and swing them across patches of grass, groups of butterflies lift and fly away. Juno Andersen: There! The fairies! Siw Andersen: Fairyyyy! The group continues to stomp and dance around, and at one time motioning toward Dr. Linde to join them in their circle. Dr. Linde stands up with hesitation, but sits himself down again shortly thereafter. [END LOG] Dr. Linde didn't find any items after this last event; however, he noted that the field looked exceptionally "bloomy" after the dancing. He could never confirm that the vegetation had actually changed. Keno, Juno and Lars simulating a 'naval battle' in lake Mälaren. [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Linde has followed the family down to the lake where the children had insisted on going. As Ada didn't dare to challenge the seven-part choir, she gladly made up an excuse to travel to the closest port market. When the group arrives, the children hurry to the brim of the lakeside, and start balancing on the rocks. They shout and make a terrible noise. Keno Andersen: Bah- bah ba!! Get all the people safe. Make them safe! I will build a fort. Keno assembles a pile of small sticks on one of the rocks. Sven Andersen: Quickly, we need to deploy! Deploy the armaments! Deploy defense! Siw Andersen: Defense, defense, defense! Juno Andersen: I'm coming! Meli and Lia throw pebbles into the lake, while Siw stands in a small crevice of water, stomping her bare feet in the water. Sven Andersen: Across the great Ethereal Ocean! Advance! While the boys a moment ago did not seem to carry anything in their pockets, now Juno and Sven carry a few miniature boats with sails that they let loose into the water. Cheering sounds are heard from the siblings behind them. Lia Andersen: Starboard! Portside! Watch out! Sven pushes one of the boats further out with a stick. Juno Andersen: Give em' everything you've got, oh great Fleet of Meneria! The children continue cheering on the little ships, throw pebbles and make waves until they finally celebrate victory. Lars Andersen: They cowards! They flee! The siblings in unison: They fleeeee! Meli Andersen: We win we win we win! Sven Andersen: Look, those cowards flee! Their fleet is decimated. And we have again made our stood our ground! Now we have control over the Ethereal Ocean, rid of serpents and ghouls. But we are not free yet! The Enemy is still out there. Now we must defend our beautiful prairies and lands from the approaching armies. Let us banish them from our lands! The children dance and cheer. There is a sulphury smell in the air. Dr. Linde stares at the rowdy boy and is about to speak when he notices the gunpowder that run from the young boy's hands down onto the ground. [END LOG] Some time during the last days of this summer in 1910, Dr. Linde grew suspicious of an individual allegedly living in the area. The person of interest called himself Stennja and seemed to be an outcast within the society of Sala. His appearance is recorded within one of the observational logs. [BEGIN LOG] A group of the children play in the garden, when they are distracted by a tall man walking past the garden. He takes his hat off and greets the siblings. They run up to the white picket fence and starts an eager conversation with him. He is dressed in a suit colored in a very deep color of black. Dr. Linde hurries up to talk to the man. The siblings in unison: We won Stennja! We did it! Dr. Linde: Well, uhm Linde clears his throat good day to you gentleman. The man's attention is switched from the children to Dr. Linde. Stennja: Oh, I'm sure you did. Did you avert the serpents as well? G'dday t'you Mister. Dr. Linde: So the children have told you about their, uh-, adventures? Stennja: Sure 'nough. They're heroes indeed. Stennja speaks in a northern dialect, typically shortening his words. Dr. Linde: I hope they don't bother the gentleman, when he passes? Stennja: Not'at'all! I'm glad to hear 'em. It's why I'm 'ere. Dr. Linde: You… Come here to visit them? Voluntarily? Stennja chuckles and picks up Siw who gestures for him to pick her up from behind the fence. He holds her in his right arm. Stennja: You've grown. Y'know these kids are not like most. They're allowed a good life. Out here on these grounds they learn to like all of it. Worthless things becomes treasure. There are kingdoms we can never take from them. Hey, Sven! Sven gets up closer to the fence and looks dutiful. Sven Andersen: Yes, Stennja? Stennja whispers something into the boy's ear. Sven looks hesitant at first, but soon lights up and runs into the house. He comes back with the dagger, carefully folded in cloth. He hands it to Stennja who has passed Siw back into the garden. Dr. Linde: Is… Is it yours? How did you come by it? It's at least- Stennja: An old relic… Yes it's as old as it looks. Been passed down for generations. I lost it somewhere here, good thing Sven could take care of it for me for a while. Stennja gives Sven a wink and puts his hat back on. Stennja: Well, I've gotten what I needed. I'll see you a- Dr. Linde: Okay, well listen sir. I am afraid that item needs to stay here. Dr. Linde pulls out a few papers of documentation. Dr. Linde: You see, we are from the authorities and we would highly appreciate if everything could stay on the properties so far. We might uh- need it for a while… Stennja: What, is something wrong? Dr. Linde: We are just looking into these children, whether they belong here, linde clears his throat in this foster family. I can not tell you much but I can assure you will get your heirloom back. Stennja hesitantly hands the dagger to Linde. Stennja: I sure hope I can trust the authorities with it. Dr. Linde: Or we can simply rely on Sven again, can't we Sven? For you to take care of it a little while longer? Sven looks on with a puzzled gaze. Stennja: Hmph, indeed. Stennja nods his hat before making his way down the road again. [END LOG] Addendum-8099-4: Excerpt from Dr. Linde's Log Book June 18th 1910 Dr. Linde assumed to have sufficient evidence to detain the orphans to Site-80 along with their foster parent, Mrs. Andersen. After this detainment, Dr. Linde made the following profile of the seven children. [BEGIN EXCERPT] Juno Andersen, 9 years of age. Mousy hair. Sensitive and dumb. Has an affinity for conjuring a cold kind of cream. Sven Andersen, 8 years of age. Blonde. Overly adult. Has conjured gunfire. Wants to be the hero. Lia Andersen, 7 years of age. Longer blonde hair. Playful but does her duties. Is very good at doing faces; so good at one point I was sure she had turned her face into a golem. The very next moment she had removed this face. Meli Andersen, 6 years of age. Short, blonde hair. Indistinguishable to their twin Keno. Outgoing. Is allegedly in the possession of a private island they visit regularly – investigate. Keno Andersen, 6 years of age Short, blonde hair. Indistinguishable to their twin Meli. Shy. Has shown to be able to conjure many colorful marbles at a time. Lars Andersen, 4 years of age Blonde. Quite aggressive. Has participated in anomalous events however has not performed conjuring directly. Siw Andersen, 3 years of age Small, stubby and with short brown hair. Yabbers quite a lot nonsensically. Will require further testing. [END EXCERPT] Addendum-8099-5: Interrogation with Sven Andersen [BEGIN LOG] Containment chamber # 33, Site-80. 13:10. June 20th 1910. Interrogation commences with Sven Andersen of SCP-8099. Dr. Linde: Hiya, uh. Hi again Sven. Sven is sitting quietly on a bench. Dr. Linde: I'm Dr. Linde. Sven Linde, as I am sure you remember. Now, this- this isn't a time to be angry. We just want to ask you some questions, okay? Sven holds his legs against his chest in a curled up position. He is looking away from Dr. Linde. Dr. Linde: Sven, Sven? Again, I am not here to be angry at you, or blame you for anything. I represent, an organization, a group… We uh- need to talk about your abilities. Your own land… The Ethereal Ocean, and the Wontrees. We would like to know it all. I am sure you know of what I am speaking better than anyone of your siblings. Sven doesn't move and Dr. Linde fidgets in his seat. After a moment of silence, Dr. Linde bends forward toward Sven. Dr. Linde: Listen. We are not, the Enemy. We are not, a part of them. If you want to rid your "world" of the Enemy, we are your strongest bet. Because you are not getting anywhere, without us. Do you understand me? The boy moves, and closes his eyes. Finally, he nods and begins to sob. Sven Andersen: Will you help us with the Enemy? If I answer your questions? Dr. Linde: Doing the opposite will certainly not deal with the Enemy. Your best bet is just to tell us all you know about it. We-, we will see what we can do. Sven Andersen: What we see is not visible to you, that I have known for a very long time. You are unworldly, like most. I hardly believe, you will be able to do anything against the Enemy. The Enemy is not a human being, not even a being. The Enemy has always, throughout our lives, moved closer. It is the shadow that puts nature under its forcing hand. We have been told by a great knight, that we must block the many minions of the Enemy to protect the land. Dr. Linde: You don't seem to be able to travel to this world you are speaking about. I can see you perfectly clear. On the other hand, several items have appeared here. Can you explain these? Sven Andersen: These items have always been here. This is our world. Dr. Linde: I thought you said the world was your own? Sven Andersen: There is only one world. But you don't seem to see its forthcoming demise. Dr. Linde: Maybe there's a chance of avoiding this… If we let you and your siblings out of your chambers for a little while? Dr. Linde looks over his glasses with a smile. Sven Andersen strokes his feet on the bench. [END LOG] Addendum-8099-6: Test Logs June 20th, 1910 Sven Linde requested further testing in order to see the extent of the children's ontokinetic abilities. Test #: 1 Subject: Lars Andersen Place: Containment Chamber 34 Complementary Items: A cardboard box. The young boy was made aware of a carton box that had been supplied during lunch time. Without knowing he was being supervised, the boy immediately took interest in the box, lifting it up, throwing it against the wall and hiding inside of it. When the boy was concealed under the box, a violent screaming and thrashing could be heard. The box was split in two when the boy rose up again and started stomping the parts of the box flat. When the boy was seen slicing the cardboard apart with means of a rusty key, guards intervened. The boy loudly protested: "GET OFF PRISON GUARDS! I GOT THE KEY. I KILLED YOUR SERVANT! DEAD DEAD DEAD!" A new containment chamber of higher security classification is considered as the conjured key perfectly fit the lock of the door to chamber 34. Test #: 2 Subject: Keno & Meli Andersen Place: On Site-80 grounds, supervised by a team of researchers and security personnel. Complementary Items: A wooden canoe with paddles is left together with the twins. The ground of the site allows for activities on bigger patches of grassland. The twins were let outside into the yard where the canoe was centered. They first approached the canoe with curiosity. Keno grabbed the paddle and wildly swung it against the ground while Meli rocked the boat. Soon however, they started pleading to the surrounding personnel for help. Apparently, their play had been interrupted by the perimeter fence. Finally, Dr. Linde conversed with them on the issue and was informed that a certain island had been "overrun by Bigfeet" and that the perimeter fence blocked the twins from reaching said island. Test #: 3 Subject: Lia & Juno Andersen Place: The siblings were supervised in a small wooded area. Complementary Items: No supplementary items. The siblings were encouraged to obtain that cone with cold cream in order to replicate the effects found during the observational period. However, the two were sceptical as there were "more important things to do". At last, Juno scouted the wood with more and more tension in his body. He started shouting incomprehensible words to nearby trees and started to claw at the ground screaming: "They're all gone! All gone! They have fled! Come help us someone!" Test #: 4 Subject: Sven Andersen Place: Outside the perimeters of Site-80. Complementary Items: Upon the object's request, a knightly dagger. It is also of note that the object required the help of Dr. Linde in order for this test to be realized. The boy was supervised when he led Dr. Linde to a nearby creek. "This is what we need to do. We need to cross this river…" The young boy paused and looked for Dr. Linde's understanding. While the doctor looked admittedly puzzled on this ordeal, he had rather wanted the boy to show what he knew rather than return to the state he was in before; As such, Linde clumsily followed the boy across the creek on a few rocks. Suddenly, the two began a fearsome "fight", with an invisible being. While Dr. Linde had lost his composure and looked shocked at the same time, the young boy straddled around on the ground and in the grass. "No!" the boy shouted and started to weep. The sword he recently had held in his hand had broken in half. Test #: 5 Subject: Siw Andersen Place: Containment Chamber 55 Complementary Items: An assortment of toys suitable for toddlers such as a ball and various building blocks. The toddler had crept up by the window of her chamber when her carer came in with the toys. She met these new supplies with a joyous cackle, waddled towards them and picked the ball up. However, as she held it she slowly started looking around the room. She soon started crying. The ball was dropped and the toddler sat down on the floor. Dr. Linde intervened, and sat down with the toddler for a moment, briefly stating, "You're not very magic are you, little one" before he was suddenly startled. He looked around the room, and called for the testing to stop and that the carer take over. Addendum-8099-7: Excerpt from Dr. Linde's Log Book [BEGIN EXCERPT] Working with the children so far have led us to draw four conclusions. Firstly, the children are not capable of conjuring items of their own will. In general, they do not seem particularly strong. Secondly, our world is interpreted as just as real as theirs. Thirdly, there is another world. However, if this world is conjured by the children, or existent all of itself is not clear. Being in contact with the object has allowed me to get brief glimpses of this world. It is a vast land with an impending threat threatening its nature and its people. Objects in this world have its own equivalent in the other world, a creek can become a river, a puddle can become a lake and a containment chamber can become a dungeon. Fourthly, this impending threat has revealed characteristics such as empathy and playfulness. The children do not differ much in this regard to other human children. With these conclusions in mind, I will recommend a lower level of classification and security protocol to be implemented. [END EXCERPT] Addendum-8099-8: Incident Log June 30th, 1910 SCP-8099 along with Ada Andersen escaped containment. Witnesses described an unstoppable force, which ripped apart doors and chambers for the children to run out into Site-80 grounds and onward. Security staff along with research lead Dr. Linde made their way out but were apprehended by a new perimeter fence and a man in a suit who stood waiting. [OPEN LOG] The suited man had met Dr. Linde before and introduced himself as "Stennja" once again. Dr. Linde: It's… You? Stennja: I've come to collect my kids. I thought I'd let them have some fun with you but… This is a place of nightmares. Dr. Linde: You've… Collected them? Where have you taken them? Stennja: Somewhere you can't reach. Don't worry. They are safer, and most importantly, more stimulated than with you. Dr. Linde: What is your relation to these kids? You said they were yours? You know of their… Abilities, so to speak? Stennja: I've known them all their life. I have followed them ever since I left them. Dr. Linde: You, you were the one who left them there? Stennja: We, left them. Ada Andersen is a righteous being, with a heart of gold. We don't trust ourselves with raising our own spawn. And so, we leave them. We left all of them, as they'd be happy. As you've seen. Dr. Linde pauses for a minute. Stennja puts his hat on to turn. Dr. Linde: Could we, could we meet with them again? Could we talk more? Stennja: Not if you so tried. They are in our land now. It's time I head back too. It was nice meeting you doctor. Dr. Linde: I understand, but what if there could be some arrangement made, maybe- When Dr. Linde looks up he notices that the suited figure has vanished. [CLOSE LOG] SCP-8099 have been unaccounted for since this incident in 1910 and no further documentation has been collected other than a single letter that Linde received in 1911. Addendum 8099-9: Letter Addressed to Dr. Linde Deer Doctor Sven, We ar home now. The won tres cam back and we usd ther help and the geimflys to fait the enemy. it tok som time. now we live with stenja in his Castel. we got You a piture You ar not veri scary doctor can You ryite back LOVE keno siv Lars meli Lia Sven JUNO Footnotes 1. This cream has later been interpreted as a kind of soft ice cream which had not been invented until the 1920s. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8099" by Nils Severin, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8099. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Name: Tornersvärd, kort Author: Livrustkammaren License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Tornersv%C3%A4rd_Sverige_1776-1800,_klingan_Solingen_ca_1600-1650_-_Livrustkammaren_-_34720.tif Additional Notes: Name: Barn lekande vid ån Author: August Malmström License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:August_Malmstr%C3%B6m_-_Barn_lekande_vid_%C3%A5n.jpg Additional Notes: Name: Lekande barn - sommar på fäbodvallen Author: Allan Österlind License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Allan_%C3%96sterlind_-_Lekande_barn_-_sommar_p%C3%A5_f%C3%A4bodvallen.jpg Additional Notes: Name: Lekande pojkar på stranden Author: Albert Edelfelt License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Albert_Edelfelt_-_Boys_Playing_on_the_Shore_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg#mw-jump-to-license Additional Notes: Name: Tattershall Castle, Lincolnshire, England Abstract/medium: 1 negative : glass ; 5 x 7 in. or smaller. Author: Bain News Service, publisher - Library of Congress Catalog License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Tattershall_Castle,_Lincolnshire,_England_LCCN2014689737.tif Additional Notes: Cropped by me |
SCP-8100 | esoteric-class | You could've saved a site director, a department head, hell- even a senior researcher. Anyone, anyone, would've been worth more in this situation than me. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 {$capt1} {$capt2} {$capt3} {$capt4} {$capt5} {$capt6} {$capt7} {$capt8} {$capt9} {$capt10} {$capt11} {$capt12} {$capt13} "I never knew you liked drawing!" said Jacquel, holding the comic. Eva sat tensely beside him. "As a kid, yeah. Not much time nowadays" "Shame, I would've liked to see more of your stuff!" He stood up. "This gives me an idea for a new project." "You sure you want to start another one?" "Of course!" Jacquel ran off to fetch his supplies, leaving Eva alone in the room. She hurriedly opened her laptop, clicking on the icon for the SCP Database. The preexisting file for SCP-8100 opens, and she takes to reading through it for what must've been the seventh time that day. Depiction of an SCP-8100 affected terrapin in Hindu mythology. Item #: SCP-8100 Special Containment Procedures: Measurements of native turtle species in human-populated regions are to be performed bi-annually by Foundation ecological teams. As of August 14th, 2025, one turtle exhibiting SCP-8100 properties is to be kept in every major Foundation site, preferably buried beneath the primary compound. Description: SCP-8100 designates a phenomenon that affects terrapin species worldwide, believed to be the root cause behind the convergent mythology of "World Turtles". Instances of SCP-8100 are thought to manifest in the time surrounding cataclysmic events and serve as havens for surviving humans during the aftermath of such occurrences. These terrapins are depicted or narrated as growing to varying large sizes to accommodate human settlements on their shells, and otherwise play an essential role in protecting and sustaining the humans they host. "What's that?" Eva is pulled back to reality by Jacquel peaking over her screen. He'd reappeared without warning, holding a container of clay and paint. Eva instinctively slams her laptop shut, causing him to recoil and drop his supplies. "Sorry," she mumbles. "Foundation stuff-" "You don't need to hide it from me." "I mean like…" Eva hesitantly reopens her laptop but keeps it tucked close to her body. "Sorry- it's just policy. Habit. Force of habit. Whatever." "It's alright- I know keeping this stuff safe is important to you. I can respect that." "Thank you." The pair exchange a smile, and both return to their work. With a growing wisp of hesitation, Eva begins to write. Addendum 8100-1 Everything is still and gray, save for a lone SCP-8100-affected turtle near the seashore. The remains of Foundation Coastal Site 93 are carried on its shell, and within it, some sparse seeds of life needed to restore the world. The sound of familiar footsteps echoes out from the site, and the turtle turns its great head to see Junior Researcher Evaline Monroes exiting the compound. The turtle is hereby referred to as SCP-8100 for brevity. "I'm done!" Eva gazes up from her laptop to find Jacquel holding aloft a turtle figurine. Its shell was encrusted with purple coral, and atop it was a painted clay compound. The item wasn't an exceptionally accurate recreation of Coastal Site 93, but it was recognizable, and it was enough to bring a smile to Eva's face. Depiction of SCP-8100 by Jacquel Williams. "It's quite lovely," she murmurs, before turning back to her laptop. On the screen are multiple video and audio files that she'd carefully selected from her time aboard SCP-8100. "Still doing your Foundation stuff?" asked Jacquel, looking at her screen again. This time, Eva didn't pull away. "There's some logs I need to transcribe. Updating the 8100 file and whatnot." "How far along are you?" "I've hit a bit of a wall," she admitted. "Well," replied Jacquel, placing the figurine- still sopping wet with clay and paint- next to Eva's laptop. "I'll let him sit there. He might give you some inspiration." "Thanks, Jacquel." Eva gently slid the messy item away from her laptop. SCP-8100: You've awakened. Eva: It's you! I never saw you again after they contained you. You've grown and- Eva stops mere meters from the shell's edge, amazement passing over her face as she marvels at SCP-8100's size. Eva: We have so much to talk about! SCP-8100: It's lovely seeing you too, Eva, but… Eva seems to suddenly notice the desolate landscape surrounding them. Her amazement changes to apprehension. Eva: What happened? Eva sat on the rooftop. "Eva?" called a voice from behind. The window behind her opened, and through it peeked Jacquel. "Are you alright? I don't think you're supposed to be up here." "I'm fine, I used to do this at Site 93 when I couldn't sleep," she said, all this without removing her eyes from the screen. "I'm still working." "Huh. I thought you'd be done-" they murmured, crawling out the window to join Eva. "You aren't tired?" "I'm fine. This is calming if anything- It feels good documenting things like this." "I'm sorry if I don't understand this properly. The whole idea of the Foundation is… still new to me." "It's new to me too. It'll never not be new." SCP-8100: They buried me underground not long after I last saw you. When I finally had the size and strength to dig myself out, the world around me had been burned. Eva: How… long did it take? SCP-8100: Eight thousand years. Eva: Eight thousand? She looks around once more. Eva: How are we still here? SCP-8100: I was able to protect you. I'm unsure how, but I was, and I'm unspeakably grateful for that. Eva: Well… thank you for keeping us safe. She gazes off towards Site 93. Eva: Where are the others? I take it they haven't woken up yet? SCP-8100: Eva, you're the only one that made it. Eva: You mean I'm here by myself? As in-? She pauses. You couldn't save all of us? SCP-8100: I tried, Eva. I truly did. But I was young and weak when they buried me, and ultimately, you were the only one I could support. I could feel each of their lives slipping away from me the longer I slept- but I made sure I clung to yours. The entire site seems to sink as SCP-8100 gives a despondent sigh. SCP-8100: I'm sorry, is all I can say. Eva was back on the rooftop the next morning, with Jacquel still accompanying her. It was one of the only places she could see the ocean. She wondered if SCP-8100 had returned to the sea, or if it had settled for a more terrestrial life after leaving her. "I have to say, SCP-8100 is a really weird name for a turtle," said Jacquel, disrupting her train of thought. "Is that a Foundation thing too?" "Some of the things we dealt with had names- or, well, nicknames. It never occurred to me to give my turtle one, though." Eva: So I'm alone? SCP-8100: In a way… Eva: I don't get why you saved me. SCP-8100: Pardon? Eva: Why me? You could've saved a site director, a department head, hell- even a senior researcher. Anyone, anyone, would've been worth more in this situation than me. SCP-8100: I only wanted to return your favor of caring for me. Eva: You can't just decide who gets to live or die based on favors. SCP-8100: You still seemed like a person worth saving. Eva: I mean, you saved me, but now what do you expect me to do? SCP-8100: It isn't what I expect you to do. My purpose is to protect you until you decide what to do. Until you're ready to start rebuilding it. Eva: Rebuilding the Foundation? SCP-8100: Humanity. Your world. Whatever you think deserves to be rebuilt. They were in the kitchen, eating some of the slimy, non-perishable foods that Eva had salvaged from Site 93. Though she was used to eating this, Jacquel had far fresher tastes. Still, it wasn't the food that bothered him. "Eva, you look genuinely exhausted." She didn't respond, her eyes fixated on the laptop. "Eva?" "Huh? Oh! Sorry, I'm just- The transcription." "It's fine, it's fine. Though, if you're alright with it, I'd love to read some of your writing one day. I wasn't ever good with words, but I think they're an amazing way to make art." "My transcription isn't supposed to be art." "So what are you making?" he pressed. "Just… making what I'm supposed to make." Eva: I didn't sign up to be— I mean I don't deserve to be the last piece of the Foundation. SCP-8100: This isn't a title or position of honor. It's one of resolve and responsibility. Eva: But I'm trying to take responsibility! I'm sure the Foundation has something I'm supposed to do. An anomaly, a procedure- a way to fix it. Anyone else would've known what the right thing was. When her mind and fingers had finally gone numb from typing, Eva came to sit cross-legged in front of Jacquel, watching him meticulously piece together wads of clay in his workshop. "How's your transcription?" asked Jacquel. "Almost done. How's your sculpture coming along?" "Almost done," they replied. Eva laid eyes on the misshapen, incomplete figure in his hands. She raised an eyebrow, and Jacquel shot a teasing, albiet somber smile. "Can I be honest?" "Of course." "I don't think you ever will be done." "With transcribing?" "With your transcribing, your childhood, your Foundation. Everything, really." "Oh." "It isn't a bad thing. Just something that's part of you." SCP-8100: Listen, Evaline- You made me better. To me, you're someone who makes things better. Whatever "right" is, I think you're already doing it; I want you to see that, and I want you to keep doing it. So let me fix your broken shell. The threat of tears lingers in Eva's eyes. Eva: I can't figure this out right now. I just- I need more time. SCP-8100: And you will have that time. I will be your world until you start anew. Relief washes over Eva as she comes to the final log. A distant rumbling calls out from the horizon. SCP-8100 and Eva gaze in unison towards the inland. Tolling bells are the first thing they can hear, followed by the singing of songbirds and calls of other beasts. And at last, they hear voices— human voices— hollering and laughing and crying out with joy. As they march forward, the horizon is soon replaced by a city skyline, all of it taller and grander than Site-93 could ever hope to be. SCP-8100 walks along the perimeter of the metropolis, drawing attention from the townsfolk. They come to the edge of the city, staring and pointing at the turtle. Eva shudders at the attention- a stark change from being alone so often. In her cowering, however, she notices the scrawny figure of a boy around her age in a skyscraper window- one that she would come to love seeing every day. He spots her in turn. Opening his window, the boy leans out to wave at her. With a tentative smile, she waves back. Eva sits in her bed, the laptop illuminating her face. It's nighttime again, and Jacquel has passed out beside her, a half-finished figurine still clutched in his hands. She's finally finished transcribing. Her fingers tremble over the "update" button, preparing to add her addendum. It would be her first- and presumably last- time making any contribution to the database. A milestone and an honor she'd been waiting to pass for a long time. Something that she might be the only person to witness. Something that she might've made just for herself. Before she can will herself to click it, she slams the laptop shut. Unwilling to wish away the rest of the night, she slides herself out of bed and makes her way to the rooftop. Eva sat there a while, her hands wrapped around her head as she gazed longingly toward the horizon. She felt herself slipping in and out of sleep, only for a familiar bellow to catch her off-guard. She lifted her head to find a familiar, turtle-shaped silhouette marching towards her. SCP-8100 comes to a stop mere meters away from Eva. "You're still here?" she asked. The turtle's eyes twinkled. "I never strayed too far," it replied. "I've been thinking about you… a lot, honestly." "Do you miss me?" Eva gazed at the turtle, then peered at its shell to find what was left of Site-93. The exterior had begun eroding, with plant growth threatening both the roof and base of the building. She couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort the sight brought her. "I think," said Eva. "You, and home, I suppose." "I understand. Are you doing well here?" "Jacquel's been very kind to me. He's really… tolerant, which I appreciate" Eva clasped her hands together. "But at times, I just want to be alone." "That's justified." "Is it? I had all the time in the world to be alone when I was with you." "You have a right to yourself. Always." The pair stay in silence for a little while longer, SCP-8100 watching over Eva as she presses her head back into her hands. "Do you want to be alone right now?" the turtle asks. "A bit, but I do want to see you again." "You will. Remember, you have time." SCP-8100 presses its snout against Eva, before speaking some parting words. "We are what the world was, and we are how it will come to be again." Eva makes her way back to her room. Rather than returning to bed, she sits at her desk, grabbing the first pencil and paper she can find. With a fading wisp of hesitation, she begins to draw. The morning finds her sprawled across the desk, fast asleep with the pencil still in hand. Near her head resides a drawing- her first willful creation in a long while. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8100" by Harmacy, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8100. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: the_hindoo_earth Author: Unknown Author License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:PSM_V10_D562_The_hindoo_earth.jpg Note: All pieces of original artwork in this article, including the comic panels and sculpture, were produced and photographed by Harmacy, the author of this article. All images in question are hereby released under CC BY 3.0 Footnotes 1. Item is anomalous in its probabilistic likelihood of existing as a means by which the human race can continue surviving indefinitely. |
SCP-8101 | safe | close Info X ⚠️ Content Warning: CW: Child death. Brief mention of terminal illness. ⚠️ content warning Item#: 8101 Level2 Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: caution link to memo Special Containment Procedures: Currently SCP-8101 is contained in a 98 square meter hangar located at Site 09. Due to the events surrounding SCP-8101-3 testing has been permanently suspended. Personnel are not to attempt to use SCP-8101 without the express consent of Dir. Clarkson acting Dir. Stanhope. Items dispensed by SCP-8101 currently in containment are to remain in standard non-humanoid hermetically sealed containers. Personnel experiencing feelings of regret, longing, or remorse, especially in regard to deceased family members, are not to interact with SCP-8101 under any circumstances, and are to instead report for full psychological evaluations. Description: SCP-8101 is the current designation for a standard 243 cm by 259 cm, red titanium storage container. SCP-8101 appears to be worn, with the paint having been roughly peeled off on the upper left, lower right, and center left corners. Although SCP-8101 seems to be heavily battered, it is otherwise structurally sound. The upper portion of SCP-8101 bears markings similar to symbols used by the Oneiroi Collective, although they appear to have been crudely painted on. Unless SCP-8101-2's requirements have been met, SCP-8101 cannot be opened. Furthermore, recording devices do not function upon being placed inside of it. Attached to the rear of SCP-8101 are a series of twenty-four electrical cables, all but six of which are connected to the left, right, and top of SCP-8101. The rest of the cables are attached to what appears to be a modified EEG cap, henceforth referred to as SCP-8101-1. Although a wooden bed frame was initially attached to SCP-8101, it was determined that as long as SCP-8101-1 is used by the subject, where they sleep is irrelevant, provided that the majority of the electrodes remain attached to the subject's head. If the subject successfully enters R.E.M sleep while wearing SCP-8101-1, they will be immediately presented with an Apple II computer henceforth known as SCP-8101-2. SCP-8101-2 will only manifest within the affected subject's dream, and manifestation will interrupt any dream currently in progress. SCP-8101-2 itself displays only one command, the word "Request?" Upon entering their requested item, the subject will proceed to dream normally and will receive their item upon awakening. However, it is theorized that the subject will not receive an item if it is too large to fit inside of SCP-8101. Furthermore, SCP-8101-2 will not manifest before subjects who do not or are not experiencing intense feelings of regret, or remorse. Due to this, instances dispensed by SCP-8101 are usually of a personal and/or meaningful nature to the subject(s) in question. However, subjects not experiencing regret(s), or subjects who ask for an item unrelated to their regret(s), will instead receive an error message asking them to "try asking again later." Discovery: SCP-8101 was first brought to the Foundation's attention after a pamphlet for the "Irio-Neo clinic" was discovered on the windshield of Dir. Clarkson's car.1 It is currently unknown as to the origins of the pamphlet, nor if its original owner had any knowledge of Dir. Clarkson's involvement with the Foundation. Below is a transcript of the pamphlet. Irio-Neo Pamphlet - Close Namaste! My name is Dr. Irio and if you're reading this the fates have brought you to me. Do you have feelings of dread? Anxiety? What about a lack of closure? If you answered 'yes' to any of these questions than you might benefit from a trip to the Irio-Neo clinic! At the Irio-Neo clinic we offer holistic, hypo-allergenic treatments for whatever might ail you. Just some of our treatments include: Reiki with trained massage therapists. Hypnosis and magnetic therapy to assist with combating negative energies. Guided meditation and crystal therapy for realignment of the chakras. But maybe none of this helps? Maybe you're still not over that photo you lost in that fire? Or that doll you left at that rest stop? Our patented Dream Machine can help you get that closure, you'll be able to reunite with that which you lost, and maybe even move on too. If any of this sounds good to you, please don't hesitate to stop in for a free consultation at our clinic, which for your convenience is located at [DATA EXPUNGED]. We hope to see you soon! Signed Dr. Irio PLEASE NOTE: The Irio Neo Dream Machine is to only be used ONCE per patient, further usage by the same patient may result in distortion of requested items. Furthermore, the Dream Machine is NOT to be used to generate living humans, animals, or insects, failure to adhere to this rule could result in catastrophic consequences. Metaphysical and/or theoretical concepts are not to be generated by the Dream Machine due to the concern of causing distortion, to this end, patients are not to request things such as "happiness" or "room-temperature superconductor." The Dream Machine is ONLY to be used in extreme circumstances, and is ONLY meant to begin the process of closure NOT provide closure. The Irio Neo clinic is not responsible for injury and/or death resulting from misuse of the Dream Machine. The Dream Machine is a registered trademark of the Irio Neo clinic. Notably prior to the pamphlet being discovered, Dir. Clarkson mentioned dreaming of his deceased daughter during a routine therapy, several concepts related to the Oneiroi Collective, as well as him admitting that he was planning on being at the cemetery on the same day as the pamphlet's discovery. Whether or not these events are related is currently unknown, however investigations are ongoing to determine a possible link. A partial transcription of Dir. Clarkson's therapy session can be found below: Audio Transcript: 08/20/22 - Close [BEGIN LOG] PsyD Morgan: How would you say you're feeling, Elias? Dir. Clarkson: I feel alright, I think I might be getting a cold though. PsyD Morgan: I meant mentally. I feel I don't need to remind you what today is? Dir. Clarkson: I'm well aware of that, but… PsyD Morgan: But? PsyD Morgan: So, you don't feel anything at all? Dir. Clarkson: I feel annoyed that someone I consider to be a good friend is asking me pointless questions, but no, I don't really feel anything too significant. PsyD Morgan: Are you still dreaming about her? Dir. Clarkson: Yeah, kinda, but not as much as before. PsyD Morgan: Do you want to dream about her more? Dir. Clarkson: I don't know, my dreams about her are rarely pleasant. PsyD Morgan: Could you explain what you mean? Dir. Clarkson: I'd rather not do that right now, I don't think it's too relevant. PsyD Morgan: I would argue that it is. Dir. Clarkson: <Clears throat> Fine, uh, where should I start? PsyD Morgan: Any dream will suffice. Dir. Clarkson: Uh, I dreamed this about a week ago. I was with her in a field, it was night and the clouds didn't look right. They were shaped like… eyes, and owls. There was this tree, and it had a big hole in the center of its leaves, the moon could be seen shining through on the other end. I woke up before I could figure out what any of it meant. PsyD Morgan: Did you have any other dreams about her? Dir. Clarkson: I had one last night, she was riding this… sheep that had an old rotary phone for a head. She said that she had a gift for me, but that I would have to be patient. PsyD Morgan: Do you know what she meant by that? Dir. Clarkson: No, no I don't. Honestly I didn't put too much stock into it, dreams aren't really supposed to make sense. PsyD Morgan: I see. Are you going to visit her after work? Dir. Clarkson: I might, but I haven't really decided yet. PsyD Morgan: I hate to ask this, Elias, but it has been a full month since, well, that. Are you absolutely sure that you're feeling alright? These dreams don't sound normal, and if you want I can authorize you taking some sick leave? Dir. Clarkson: I know, I'm sorry, Morgan, but… you needn't worry, I'm okay. PsyD Morgan: Are you sure you're okay? Dir. Clarkson: If I wasn't I wouldn't have been able to do my job for this long. PsyD Morgan: There's a difference between being able to do your job and being able to process things. Dir. Clarkson: Maybe so, but still, I'm okay, Morgan. PsyD Morgan: If you insist, but I'm here if you change your mind. Dir. Clarkson: <sighs> If that changes, I'll let you know, I'll do my due diligence but I really don't think you have too much to worry about. PsyD Morgan: I hope you're right, Elias. Dir. Clarkson: Oh, I am, trust me. [END LOG] Following the discovery of the pamphlet, the Foundation investigated the listed location of the Irio-Neo clinic, and discovered an office space, which was theorized to have not been used since the late 1970s. Furthermore; despite finding several more pamphlets for the clinic, as well as miscellaneous patient records, no other anomalies were discovered. SCP-8101 was found in the loading dock with a large tarp placed over it, and was recovered with no issues. Following recovery, testing commenced, and was overseen by Dir. Clarkson. Testing Log - 1 - Close Subject: D-19221 Regret: Having lost her mother's necklace. Requested item: Her mother's necklace. Result: SCP-8101 dispensed a single somewhat misshapen gold pendant. D-19221 stated that although it was not exactly as she remembered it, it was good enough. Notes: D-19221 requested to keep the necklace, which was granted on the grounds that she did not wear it during testing. Subject: D-19651 Regret: Never getting to finish reading Dune before the Foundation detained him. Requested item: One paperback copy of Frank Herbert's Dune. Result: SCP-8101 dispensed a single paperback book with Dune written on the cover in skewed white letters. Similar skewed text could be found throughout the entirety of the book. Furthermore certain scenes, including the ending, in the book dispensed by SCP-8101 were not congruent with the original novel. Despite this D-19651 reported feeling satisfied with the ending, and was glad to have had the opportunity to finish reading the book. Subject: D-11112 Regret: Not being able to remember grandmother's face. Requested Item: Photograph of grandmother. Result: SCP-8101 dispensed a single photograph of an elderly woman posed with a young boy which D-11112 insisted was him. Further research discovered that although the boy was indeed D-11112 the woman in the photograph bore no relation of any kind to him. Subject: D-19194 Regret: Forgetting which brand of beer he was drinking with his brother before he died. Requested Item: A bottle of beer of the same brand that he had been drinking at the time. Result: SCP-8101 dispensed a single bottle of Bud-Light brand beer. Several letters on the label appeared to have been distorted, and D-19194 stated that it tasted "odd" and was somewhat "flavorless." Subject: D-19211. Regret: Failing to reconcile with his father before he died. Requested Item: A way to apologize. Result: SCP-8101 sputtered for approximately five minutes before dispensing a single sticky note reading, "You are forgiven," in skewed black permanent marker. Although D-19211 insisted that the handwriting belonged to his father, it did not match any of his father's handwriting on record. Audio Transcript: 09/21/22 - Close [BEGIN LOG] Dir. Clarkson: I'm going to use it. PsyD Morgan: Hmm? Dir. Clarkson: The machine, I'm going to use it. PsyD Morgan: Elias I have to strongly object to that, y-you don't know <pauses and inhales> you have no idea what it might do to you. Dir. Clarkson: I'm well aware of that, but frankly Morgan, <Stammers> I have to at least try. PsyD Morgan: I personally would not authorize this if I were you. Dir. Clarkson: Well you're not me. PsyD Morgan: Pardon? Dir. Clarkson: You're not me, Morgan. PsyD Morgan: Elias, what exactly makes you think that this is a good idea? Dir. Clarkson: All the D-Class I sent through? PsyD Morgan: What about them? Dir. Clarkson: No negative symptoms, none, in fact it only made their mental health better. I've had my men monitor them for a month now, they've run all sorts of tests, cognito, info, Scranton, identical replacement, etcetera. The point is <Pauses> absolutely nothing happened, nothing. If they were going to show symptoms it would've happened already. PsyD Morgan: That still doesn't mean that you should use it, nothing physical doesn't mean nothing mental, besides how do you know you're not exposing yourself to those Oneiroi guys? Dir. Clarkson: I have to at least try, I owe her that much. PsyD Morgan: And if you are successful, what then? Assuming you do get her back, how do you know it's not a clone, or some sort of… physical manifestation of the Oneiroi or something? That's not even considering the possibility that it spits out her literal corpse, would you really want that, Elias? And let's say that you did get her back, do you know what they would do? They stuff her in a box or worse, terminate her. Dir. Clarkson: I have to try Morgan. I just want more time, just a little more time. PsyD Morgan: Elias listen I… Dir. Clarkson: <Shouts and interrupts Morgan> I don't want to hear it Morgan! Do you know what I gave up for this job!? Birthdays, ballet recitals, school plays, her-her <Beginning to cry> her goddamned diagnosis! PsyD Morgan: Elias I… Dir. Clarkson: Did you know who had to claim her body!? <Laughing sardonically while crying> not me! I was forced to send 'Uncle Stanhope,' because the damn council wouldn't let me leave due to one of those endless K-class scenarios! <Exhales deeply> So, yes I will be using the machine no matter what you say, I need to make this right, Morgan. <Sighs> I'll try it with some D-Class first but if that doesn't work, well I'll cross that bridge if I come to it. <tape abruptly ends> [END LOG] Testing Log - 2 - Close Subject: D-19224 Regret: Dir. Clarkson not having spent more time with his deceased daughter. Requested Item: Dir. Clarkson's deceased daughter. Result: SCP-8101-1 did not manifest and as a result the request could not be completed. Subject: D-18223 Regret: Dir. Clarkson not having spent more time with his deceased daughter. Requested Item: Dir. Clarkson's deceased daughter. Result: SCP-8101-1 did not manifest and as a result the request could not be completed. Subject: Dir. Clarkson. Regret: Not having spent more time with his deceased daughter. Requested Item: His deceased daughter. Result: SCP-8101 sputtered before dispensing a single video tape. Notes: Dir. Clarkson attempted the same test several more times, and received the same result each time. Following this Dir. Clarkson ordered all but one of the tapes be destroyed and demanded to immediately meet with PsyD Morgan. Audio Transcript: 09/22/22 - Close [BEGIN LOG] PsyD Morgan: You wanted to see me, Elias? Dir. Clarkson: … Was I bad a father, Morgan? PsyD Morgan: What do you mean? Dir. Clarkson: I was never there for her in life, I never had the nerve to tell the O5s to eff off cause I'm going to take her to Disneyland, I-I never even knew what her favorite TV show was. PsyD Morgan: You did your best in an impossible position, Elias. No one blames you. Dir. Clarkson: … Maybe, maybe so. <Sighs> I-I-I sleep with some of her plushies sometimes, b-but I don't even remember which ones she liked. Frankly, Morgan I don't even know if she still slept with plushies. PsyD Morgan: You knew more about her than you think you do. Dir. Clarkson: <Taps fingers on chair but does not speak> PsyD Morgan: Well for starters what was her favorite food? Dir. Clarkson: That-that sugary cereal I never let her have. PsyD Morgan: And it was always always in the cupboard, wasn't it? Dir. Clarkson: … yeah, it was <Groans> Morgan I don't get what… PsyD Morgan: What about her favorite movie? Dir. Clarkson: I don't? Uh, Finding Dory, she uh, she always liked the part with the octopus, said he reminded her of me. PsyD Morgan: Of course you remember her favorite video game? Dir. Clarkson: Morgan I don't understand what you're trying to do! PsyD Morgan: Just answer the question, please. Dir. Clarkson: <Scoffs> Pokemon Sun, she would always laugh at how I would pronounce the names. PsyD Morgan: And of course you know what her favorite place was? Dir. Clarkson: Morgan just stop please. PsyD Morgan: I think you should answer the question, Elias. Dir. Clarkson: I, ok, uh, her favorite place was… <Pauses and taps fingers> the back seat of my old Lincoln, especially after ballet. Uh, after her class I would buy her A&W. I could never stand the smell of it, not to mention all those grease stains, but I knew she loved it, <Swallows hard> and I could never bring myself to say no. PsyD Morgan: Speaking of never saying no, what did you get her for Christmas last year? Dir. Clarkson: Morgan you know damn well what I got for her. PsyD Morgan: I can't help you unless you say it. Dir. Clarkson: A puppy, this uh, little brown lab. I'll admit I was never really too fond of dogs, but I also knew that she wanted one more than anything else. PsyD Morgan: Do you really think you were a bad father, Elias? Dir. Clarkson: I-I don't know… PsyD Morgan: You know what I think? I think you were a great… you are a great father. Dir. Clarkson: Maybe, but, I uh, I couldn't save her, and I couldn't be there. Not when it mattered anyway. PsyD Morgan: Every moment mattered, Elias. The big ones, the small ones, the sad ones, and especially the happy ones. Those times you'd watch TV together even though it gave you a headache, how you said you would help her with her homework, how you would make those lunch box meals for her. Those are the moments that mattered. Dir. Clarkson: I-I don't know. I-I-I, even now I failed her, <Beginning to cry> I couldn't bring her back, Morgan. I-I-I couldn't do it, there was nothing that I could do, <Chokes> the machine wouldn't bring her back. PsyD Morgan: Well, what did the machine do? Dir. Clarkson: All it did was spit out a VHS tape. <Begins speaking softly> You know it's funny, Morgan, we had this old tape player, and uh, and she always liked the noises it made. Sometimes I'd just play tapes with the sound off because it helped her sleep. PsyD Morgan: Did you watch it, the tape I mean? Dir. Clarkson: No. PsyD Morgan: Well, I'd suggest that you don't, <Sighs> there are numerous things we can do now. I can try to arrange it so that you can see me more often, or I can recommend some paid leave? Or if you really want me to, I can try to get you some antidepressants, but keep in mind that's something of a last resort. Dir. Clarkson: I just want more time, that's all. PsyD Morgan: I'm so sorry, Elias. [Approximately three minutes pass with neither Dir. Clarkson or PsyD Morgan speaking.] Dir. Clarkson: <Clears throat> Could I have some water please? PsyD Morgan: <Sound of a plastic bottle being opened> Sure, here you are. Dir. Clarkson: <Swallows hard three times, followed by the sound of something being placed on a wooden surface> Thank you. I was, uh, I was thinking about it and I think I might watch the tape. PsyD Morgan: Look I'll be blunt, Elias I really cannot recommend enough not watching the tape. Dir. Clarkson: But? PsyD Morgan: <Sighs deeply> But… after that stunt you pulled you'll be lucky if you aren't canned, so… Dir. Clarkson: I might as well see what's on it, because I can't possibly get in more trouble? PsyD Morgan: You said it, not me. Dir. Clarkson: <laughs slightly> Maybe so, I owe her that much, I guess, thanks… you, uh, probably won't hear from me again, but thanks for everything. I-I know what I have to do now. PsyD Morgan: Of course, Elias, take care, and I hope you find what you're looking for. [END LOG] - Close Shortly after the last interview Dir. Clarkson viewed the tape, henceforth referred to as SCP-8101-3, in order to ascertain its contents. SCP-8101-3 Contents - Close VIDEO LOG DATE: 09/22/22 NOTE: Despite the risks posed by viewing the contents of SCP-8101-3, Dir. Clarkson demanded that staff allow him to view it privately. However as per protocol standard recording devices were placed in the testing chamber with him. [BEGIN LOG] 00:01: Tape opens with a message similar to a copyright warning, however the FBI insignia has been replaced by that of the Oneiroi Collective, furthermore the warning text has been entirely replaced by the phrase "read the fine print," repeated fifty times. 01:04: The footage shifts to display a series of sheep of similar appearance to SCP-1498 grazing in a meadow before cutting to the inside of a house. 04:04.45: A girl resembling Dir. Clarkson's daughter can be seen sitting at a kitchen table, she can be clearly seen creating crude doodles resembling the Oneiroi Collective insignia. 04.45:05: A man resembling Dir. Clarkson enters the frame, he is carrying two steaming mugs. The man places one in front of the girl, before sitting down across from her. 05:09: The man and girl discuss several mundane topics, including the weather and what the girl wishes to do as an adult. 09:12: The footage abruptly shifts to what appears to be the inside of an auditorium during a high-school graduation. The faces of most of the audience, as well as the school staff, and graduation class are indistinguishable. However, a girl resembling a noticeably older version of Dir. Clarkson's daughter can be seen receiving a diploma. 12:14 A man off camera, presumably Dir. Clarkson, can be heard exclaiming excitedly, shouting several compliments and words of praise. 14:20: The footage shifts to a black screen which lasts for approximately fifteen seconds before jumping to a scene of an older man resembling Dir. Clarkson helping a young woman resembling his daughter remove objects from moving boxes and place them on various shelves inside of what looks like a college dorm. The pair exchange playful and somewhat wistful banter while unpacking. Notably the young woman is dressed in a t-shirt with the Oneiroi Collective's insignia on it. 20:29: The Footage cuts to what appears to be the inside of an art gallery, several paintings depicting Oneiroi Collective insignias and concepts related to dreaming can briefly be seen. A banner reading "The Art of Abigail Clarkson," written in somewhat skewed text is visible in the background. Furthermore a woman in what appears to be her late 20s to early 30s is seen in the foreground. The woman is shown to be laughing while playfully mocking the cameraman for being a "silly old man." 29:36 A black screen is displayed for three minutes before cutting to the inside of a church, the woman, now wearing a wedding dress, is seen being walked to the alter by Dir. Clarkson, who now appears to be in his sixties. 36:44: The footage jumps to a now elderly Dir. Clarkson, who is smiling widely in a field while having a picnic with the woman and a young girl who greatly resembles the woman. 44:56: The footage abruptly jumps to a woman in her mid-forties, standing next to her is a girl in her teens, both are standing in a hospital room, and are holding the right hand of the cameraman. The cameraman can be heard attempting to reassure the pair who are crying softly while trying to smile. The scene slowly fades out until only a black screen is visible. 56:60 Skewed white text can be seen on the screen for the remainder of the tape's duration. The text reads, "was it enough time?" [END LOG] - Close Addendum: Following his viewing of SCP-8101-3 Dir. Clarkson instructed personnel to deliver the following written message to the site of SCP-8101's discovery. Please Enter Level Three or Higher Credentials: Close: To the Oneiroi Collective - It was enough, thank you. - Director Elias Clarkson. Footnotes 1. Which at the time was parked in front outside of ██████ Cemetery. |
SCP-8102 | keter | SCP-8102-Y192, a photographic instance of SCP-8102-Y demonstrating characteristic visual deformation Item #: SCP-8102 Special Containment Procedures: Physical visitation of SCP-8102 is no longer permitted for civilians or Foundation staff. All instances of SCP-8102-Y, including this document (SCP-8102-Y461), must be stored within secure archives, with copying or transmission not permitted outside of testing. Alteration of instances of SCP-8102-Y, including this document, is only permitted after inspection from a member of SCP-8102's research division. Description: SCP-8102 is an object possessing anomalous infohazardous properties that comprehensively and consistently affect all objects which record, describe or otherwise represent the original object, transforming them into instances of SCP-8102-Y. The physical characteristics and nature of SCP-8102 are otherwise not conclusively known. Instances of SCP-8102-Y retain their original medium and physical properties, but become visually, linguistically and/or semantically distorted to the extent that readers are unable to accurately recognize or distinguish any information. SCP-8102-Y instances, including this document, possess an additional infohazardous trait affecting any observer, causing them to interpret (or insist that they can interpret) the content of SCP-8102-Y legibly. + Show Sample Photographic SCP-8102-Y Instance + - Hide Sample Photographic SCP-8102-Y Instance - SCP-8102-Y238 SCP-8102-Y238 provides an example of visual interference in the form of altered colouration, substantial blurring, what appear to be compression artifacts and the addition of unrelated images. These factors collectively make it impossible to distinguish or identify any of the original elements of the photograph. Most viewers of SCP-8102-Y238 falsely report being able to observe a largely undistorted photographic image. + Show Sample Written SCP-8102-Y Instance + - Hide Sample Written SCP-8102-Y Instance - SCP-8102-Y085 Sample: The Fountainferry Enchanted Village is a park constructed in a forested area of Fountainferry, New Hampshire. The park consists of a walking path adjacent to multiple life-sized dioramas of fairy/folk tale scenes and other fantasy imagery, sometimes including animatronic models and characters. During operating hours, The Fountainferry Enchanted Village also features costumed performers reenacting parts of popular stories at scheduled intervals. This excised portion of SCP-8102-Y085 provides an example of textual interference in the form of transposed or removed words or letters, translation into multiple known and unknown written languages and the addition of irrelevant or contradictory statements. These factors collectively make the content and meaning of the original text impossible to discern. Most readers of SCP-8102-Y085 falsely report being able to read a coherent and plausible set of sentences. Depictions of SCP-8102, as described by interpreted SCP-8102-Y instances, vary widely and are inconsistent across individuals and instances. Noted examples include the following: SCP-8102 is a tourist attraction in the Northeast United States featuring fairy tale-related imagery, which cannot be accurately or intelligibly described. SCP-8102 is a fantasy-themed amusement park located in Fountainferry, New Hampshire, possessing direct and indirect infohazardous traits. SCP-8102 is "The Fountainferry Enchanted Village", a tourist attraction in New England that causes infohazardous distortions in all associated records. SCP-8102 is a theme park in New Hampshire based on European folklore, which anomalously affects writings or images related to it. All pieces of information interpreted from instances of SCP-8102-Y, including this document, are inaccurate and incorrect without exception. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8102" by Monkeysky, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8102. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: 8102.jpg Author: Nomar License: CC BYSA 3.0 Source Link: Kabouterdorp Filename: 8102b.jpg Author: Nickge4 License: CC BYSA 4.0 Source Link: Draak efteling |
SCP-8105 | euclid | Now's your last chance to dial that number. Chances are like that, rushed and squeezed in… I have this nasty habit of never knowing when my last one comes. Yeehaw Junction. Item #: SCP-8105 Special Containment Procedures: Yeehaw Junction has been cleared of civilians and converted into a Foundation front and research facility. As such, containment efforts primarily entail the installation and maintenance of radio signal jammers along segments of highway within SCP-8105's area of effect. Description: SCP-8105 is the designation for an anomalous radio signal that periodically interferes with devices located within a 40km radius of Yeehaw Junction, Florida. During occurrences, radio devices fulfilling an unknown criteria within the radius of activity will be forcibly retuned to 105.7 FM. Following this, the station will begin broadcasting a program of obfuscated origin taking the form of a talkshow segment, hosted by an individual self-identified as Danny Campo. Following the conclusion of the program, all affected devices will return to their previous tunings. The program will frequently prompt listeners to dial the show's hotline in response to questions posed by the aforementioned Danny Campo. As of 02/11/2023, no such number has been provided on-air. All attempts to identify or contact Campo have been unsuccessful. Selected Audio Log Transcript: <Begin Log> Danny: You're listening to 105.7 Easy FM - Old Listening for New Problems, and it's time for today's Speakeasy with Danny Campo, presented by yours truly, old Danny, Dan, or whatever, you all know who I am by this point. It's some lovely weather tonight, crisp, dry, a bright starry night. Looking out the window of my studio here, I can see we don't have a lot of clouds in the sky tonight. Perfect for stargazing with a special lady. Danny: I remember when I was younger, not that I'm old, mind you, but back in my high school days, driving out to the Purdy Flats, parked out front in my Chevy. Danny: Just late at night, waiting for a certain special someone to sneak out the front window to spend some time with me, laying on the flatbed, staring at the skies. It was easy to do the cutesy little things then; nuzzling doesn't work as a man with stubble, now. Too prickly, and then you get the whole lecture. Not worth the hassle nowadays. I'm sure the ladies can relate, too. Danny: Tonight's a good night for the kids up to no good, to maybe steal a moment away from the house, sneak off with some fling. I would do it again too, but it's just not as charming, you know. It's fine enough to sneak away at 2am when Study Hall's your first period, and Miss Hader'll gladly turn an eye when you conk out then, but 2am, and you get home at 3, and whew, clock in at eight? Is a hickey worth getting through the dayshift on two espressos and a dream? Hard to wager. Danny: The kids'll enjoy tonight's starry patchwork. A shining endorsement from Campo, unless it were my daughter- hah. Funny, that. You know, maybe it'd be better if some of those youthful endeavors were skimped out on. What's a guy gonna do when that dime you snuck out for trots off with a different goof? Clock in at 8, eh? I need the sleep and I don't wanna risk that girl's tears keeping me up at my age. Not that I'm old, wink. Ah. Danny: They never really tell you how your words bounce off the wall. Radio wasn't my first gig, it took some time to get used to just, talking out there. I wonder if some of my little gags need retiring. How old am I, anyway? John told me to pick up that bit, you know. I'm not terribly aged, just had a nasty smoking habit. Gives my voice a bit of weariness, they say. I think I sound my age, no? Danny: Well, anyhow, I've been waffling for a bit, so we're gonna open up the line now. Say, how's this for an icebreaker: Tell me about a time you went stargazing? You know what to do- Just dial up ol' Danny! Pick up the phone and watch that easy-to-remember hotline seem to enter itself in! Any minute now… Danny: Oh, here we are- Danny: This is Danny Campo, you're live on the Speakeasy! Caller: Hello? Danny: You're live, sweetheart. Caller: Oh my god, hi, hello! I'm a big fan of the show, I've been listening for- Danny: Slow down sweetheart, I need a name. Caller: Oh, Tina. My name's Tina. Danny: Tina, Tina, Tiny Tina, hah. Alright, where are you from, Tina Turner? Caller: Well, I live out by Loxy, and uh, well I grew up outside Raleigh. Danny: I knew I heard a twang! Love me a little country gal. And tell me, Tina, what do you do for a living? Caller: Well, I'm just a flipper at a burger place, doesn't matter which. Caller: It's not much anyways. Danny: A woman of America! I salute you- wait, you're not the miss who always messes up my quarter-pounder with too much mayo, are you? Caller: No, sir, I never! I've been doing this for 17 years now, I'm practically a professor. Danny: I knew my girl Tina wouldn't do that to me! And please, sweetheart, call me Danny. Caller: Ah, you're too much! Danny: Alrighty then miss Tina, you're my lucky little caller so I'm gonna ask you a very-very special question, and I want you to give me your best triple combo of an answer. I wanna hear from you about a special time you went about stargazing. Caller: I'm afraid I'm not much of a stargazer, Danny, but I remember once when I was much younger, I was about seventeen, the same year I dropped out of high school and vanned away from my pa's house. I was swept up in Joplin & Young, brought my vinyls in that wagon and gone. I ended up in PR by eighteen, and I had shacked up with this strapping young guy named Julio. Caller: He came right back up to the states with me and we lived in New York for a bit. Had a little studio we cocooned up in. I was washing dishes and he had a gig at a dry cleaner's that paid the rent. One night I threw up in our little stall, and I couldn't have known, but I knew. Eighteen, but I knew. Julio worked late that night but I stayed up until he got home. Spent two dollars and thirty seven cents on a calzone, and swiped a bottle of cola. Julio got home, saw the food, and frowned, said we don't got it like that. I told him "cayate" and that we ought to go up to the roof to eat. Caller: I felt young still, damn it. He rolled his eyes, but his handsome little face softened a bit, and I dragged him by the hand up to the roof. I set the food beside and we laid on our backs up at the sky. Caller: I think in my head I wanted it to be this sort of movie-like scene. I told him, I said "Julio, I'm pregnant." You could smell the gasoline from the streets down below. A few honks here and there. We weren't looking at each other, just up in the sky. He said, "You can't even see the stars anymore." I didn't know why he said that. I was pregnant by him, I guess I expected more from his reaction. Caller: We ate the calzone together. Caller: I noticed the stars weren't what I expected either. The brightest light was a bit buried in the city. Probably Chase. Caller: Didn't know then. Danny: How heartwarming, Tina. Tell me, you keep the baby? Caller: Well, of course I did! He's still with us now. My special boy, River. Went to college and everything. Fought like hell to get that kid there. Love him lots. Danny: He a momma's boy? Caller: He used to be, I don't know what happened. Wanted to meet his dad and I never heard from him again. I hope he comes home one day. Danny: Well, Tina, thank you so much for sharing, and I hope your boy phones home soon. Sadly, your time is up, but stay tuned for our other callers. I'm sure there's a plethora of folks eager to call in and share all their bits about stargazing! Caller: Bye bye! Thank you for having me, Danny. Danny: Don't forget to… Speak easy! Haha. Danny: Alright, that was Tina! Tina, Tina, Tina. Any young men listening, remember to ring up your mom every once and a while. I remember how much I regretted not talking to my ma more before she passed. We never got along all that well, you know. I'm the spitting image of my dad, and that's where all the trouble began. It's that time old tale, who hates each other more than enemies? Lovers, eh? Sad but true, sad but true. I don't think it ought to be that way, but hey, what do I know. Divorced twice. "Too much of a romantic" they said. Maybe there's not enough romantics left? Big shiny degree for what. Danny: Before I go too off the path, though, don't forget to call that hotline! It's always a pleasure to speak to my listeners. Remember that number! It's easy to dial, and absolutely free. Your fingers will seem to dial it faster than you can say "Was it always my fault?" Danny: I really do love what I do, folks. Radio wasn't my first calling. Or my second. Or my third, fourth, and fifth, actually. I kind of hated radio for a while. But I've really grown to love it. As I'm sure devoted listeners may know, I spent a great deal of time in other fields, other, much less profitable careers. But you know what they say, eventually you learn to hate something if you try hard enough. Bills, Bills, Bills. Danny: Here on Easy FM, being that little voice on the table is something I'm good at, something people listen to. Isn't that enough? But what, a nag? People listen to anything. Danny: Saw some comedian on TV five pints away from "I hardly knew her!", and it makes me wonder, really wonder. I could do that! If I had the chance. I like to think I'm a pretty funny guy here. I make you all laugh, and you all phone in to get a little taste of it, right? Danny: Danny Campo is a self-made man. A man who is ready to answer this new call- Hello this is The Speakeasy with Danny Campo you are now live! Caller: Danny? Hello? Can you hear me? Danny: You are live! Caller: Daniel, I'm pretty sure you can hear me, are you there? Danny: Oopsie! Must have had the wrong number. Don't worry though, folks, we've got another caller right on the way, coming… now! Danny: This is The Speakeasy with Danny Campo and you are live on the air! Say hello to 105.7 Easy FM! Caller: Hey, hello. Danny: Real stoic guy, eh? What's your name, boss. Caller: Dave. Didn't think I'd actually get through. Danny: Well, you did! How's it compare to your idea? Caller: It's alright, I guess. Danny: High praise. Now tell me, tough guy, what do you know about fluffed up stargazing? Ain't that for pansies? Caller: Don't have time for stars now. I listen to your show driving home from work along the junction. Work on a site in Jupe, live in Saint Pete. Long drive. Good pay. Driving now, actually. Good signal. You're right about the sky tonight, it's pretty clear. Caught a few glimpses so far. Caller: I've been working in construction for a while. Money's good now. Fought like hell to organize, but it worked out. Me and my buds cracked a few beers about it afterward. Great guys, love their wives and kids. They've got a fire in their eyes about it. I do well in work, but not amazing. Kinda just a day to day guy. Not super ambitious. Not to say I'm a slacker, I still work hard. But I'm happy with where I am. Seems to suit the guy I am. Not a thinker, never have been. I liked school a little, making friends. Caller: College was never in the picture. My family's working like me, and I never had the head for it anyways. The summer after I graduated from Belleglade High, I picked up a job digging pipes. Lousy pay even for then, but it was work, and I didn't have any better options with a record. I had slinked into a bar with a fake a few weeks into work, somehow, I guess because I didn't look my age. Did this pretty regularly from that point on. Caller: One day, I saw this girl, super out of place, real pretty thing, at the bar. Man, I remember Lily like yesterday. Only woman I ever loved. We caught on pretty quick, and so that summer we had a little thing going. Caller: One night she asked me to take her to Dreher to lay on the hill, 'cause the stars were supposed to be real bright. That girl was always so much better than me. Her mom and dad were old money, and she was studying African Art. Used to run my head off about all sorts of things I didn't understand. We were looking at the stars. Caller: She taught me how to find Big Dipper then told me I was the love of her life. I didn't say nothing. Put out my cigarette on her arm and stormed off into my truck. Caller: Never spoke to her again, best thing I could've done for her. How am I supposed to be a provider for a woman like that? Danny: How fast does that truck of yours go? Caller: I don't know, don't own it anymore. Was always just a thing to get me places. Danny: Well, Dave, you made the right call! I know I would've done the same thing if I knew I was gonna hold back a bright young flame. Thank you for calling, Dave. Sincerely. Caller: Yeah, yeah, keep up the good work Danny. I'll be driving. Danny: Well, we've had two interesting callers tonight. I'm gonna keep the line open for a little bit longer, but our time is going to be meeting its end very soon. Only 10 more minutes until our one hour of uninterrupted smooth tunes. Now's your last chance to dial that number. Chances are like that, rushed and squeezed in. Danny: I have this nasty habit of never knowing when my last one comes. A man is multitudes of mistakes in a crockpot. It builds character. One of my mistakes was fighting radio. I have a thing here, where folks like you call and tell me things. Isn't that neat? Like a little Revere on the road. Splayed upon my back of steel. Danny: Come on, dial it up. It's my cross to bear. I could do this all night, really. The window here gives a little peak of the sky. It's pretty, isn't it? That's the funny thing about this little city. I could walk three blocks down and know you're still looking up at this same sky. I move out of a place, you move in. Danny: You sit on the same benches, eat the same food. But our little bubbles don't quite align, do they? How's the mustard chaise? Danny: Drat- Danny: This is The Speakeasy with Danny Campo, you are now live! Caller: Hey, Danny, you got time for me? Danny: Always, Jack. What's on your mind? For any unfamiliar listeners, this is Jack calling. He's been my trusted caller for, what is it, 14 years now? Caller: It's been a trip. Been on the ground since day one. Danny: He's truly my number one fan, that man. So, Jack, what's your take on stargazing? Caller: You know, Danny, I was quite the romantic when I was younger. I took lots of pretty girls on fabulous dates through the years. Danny: I'm aware, Jack. Wife can't fathom how you've never sealed the deal. Caller: A man is more than just his feelings. Stargazing is fine and well, but the stars aren't around at Publix. Brioche buns and mandarins and halibut, 30% off. What's a telescope good for? Won't help out at the cookout. All my friends around me have a wife and kids. I still gaze upwards. Can't see the grass anymore. Danny, you look up, too? Your wife likes that. Caller: I can point out all the shapes and such. I still somehow feel like nobody ever really sees them like me. Maybe you, but not a whole lot of others. I listened in on the calls tonight, Danny. Do you think Tina still thinks of Julio? You should've asked her. Danny: Maybe I should've, Jack. Poor lady. Caller: I guess he didn't want her the way she wanted to be wanted. Sad that. It's kinder though, more benevolent, than something nastier, dirtier. Is it boring to want something so average? Stability? Danny: I don't think so, Jack. It's a crazy world out there. I like to think this station of mine helps make everything a bit more normal. Caller: Maybe, Danny. Maybe. I always think back to that year, that wonderful, saccharine year. Spending that entire year gazing at the stars. You look up so long that you forget to catch your feet. Come to and there's bills on the floor and a reporter knocking on the door. Career wise. Danny: It knocks for everyone, Jack. Nobody is ever really unique in that. I'm here in this station now, but not forever, I imagine. Eventually I clock out too. Everyone does. But I can't tell you how to live your life, Jack. It's your life. Danny: I just chat with you. Caller: Do you think we could ever stargaze again? Danny: Well, Jack, I can't really, uh. Would you look at the time. I'm afraid I'll have to cut our conversation short, as we've gotta wrap up The Speakeasy. Rest easy, Jack. Caller: Dan… Danny: Well folks, we laughed, we cried, we all wanted to punch Dave for being a sexist prick… but it's about time I signed off. The wife is making pork loin tonight: charbroiled! Yum! This was The Speakeasy hosted by yours truly, Danny Campo, and I'll be heading off now. Enjoy your one hour of uninterrupted music, starting…. Danny: Now. <End Log> More From This Author More From This Author PoufyPoufson's Works SCPs SCP-7151 • SCP-7575 • SCP-8465 • SCP-8010 • SCP-7541 • Poufy's Proposal • SCP-7419 • SPHERE • SCP-3169 • SCP-7811 • SCP-7783 • SCP-7471 • SCP-6541 • SCP-8332 • SCP-8541 • Tales/GoI Formats Other SCP-POUF • Fear of Death • |
SCP-8106 | keter | close Info X SCP-8106: Attempted Murder Monster Author: ubergoober Check out my author page! Item #: SCP-8106 Threat Level: Red ● Special Containment Procedures: As SCP-8106 poses a significant threat to human life, no personnel above Clearance Level 2 are to be assigned to the entity’s containment. No interaction with the entity is permitted except under approval from O5 Command. All staff are to remain at least two hundred (200) meters away from the entity's containment cell at all times. SCP-8106 is to be contained in a maximum-security humanoid cell composed of carbon steel reinforced with tungsten. The cell is to be sealed within a 60-meter spherical container lined with titanium lead. The containment area is to be under 24-hour visual and audio surveillance. Routine inspection of the cell for interior damage must be carried out by maintenance personnel weekly daily, and any cracks or corrosion is to be reported immediately. Containment breaches are common and are to be expected; in event of breach, the on-site HMCL supervisor is to be alerted. For sake of convenience, SCP-8106’s cell is currently located adjacent to the Site-40 medical ward. Description: SCP-8106 is a humanoid entity resembling a middle-aged man, with brown-gray skin showing signs of severe necrosis. The entity has a haggard, emaciated appearance, with little to no muscle mass. SCP-8106 displays the anomalous capability to pass through solid matter such as walls and floors, leaving behind structural damage to the surface, though this is hampered somewhat by the containment cell’s composition and structure. The entity will often lie in wait for periods ranging from 6 hours to 30 days before breaching containment. SCP-8106 is extremely hostile, and will attempt to pursue and kill any human being it encounters. The entity is known to manifest weapons including blades and firearms during its assault, before chasing down and attempting to kill its target. When SCP-8106 is provoked, almost nothing can prevent its impending attack. SCP-8106's psychology is extremely different from that of a human; the entity appears to have no desires besides killing, which it greatly enjoys. It has no concept of empathy or remorse, and expresses total contempt for human life. So far, SCP-8106 has been responsible for 46 47 incidents. Addendum 8106.1: Interview Log [BEGIN LOG] Researcher Smith: SCP-8106, please state your name for the record. SCP-8106: No. (SCP-8106 produces a knife, and attempts to stab Researcher Smith.) [END LOG] Notes: Researcher Smith was found to have no injuries from the attack, as SCP-8106 was wielding a butter knife. No further interviews are to be attempted with SCP-8106. Addendum 8106.2: Incident Report 8106-B Shortly after the preceding interview log, SCP-8106 breached containment, and attacked numerous personnel. The following footage was picked up over security cameras: [BEGIN LOG] (Dr. Wren is walking down a corridor in Containment Wing A, when SCP-8106 appears through the floor in front of him.) SCP-8106: Don’t be alarmed, human. I’ll make your death a painful one. (Dr. Wren slowly backs away from SCP-8106.) Dr. Wren: (Pulls out a handheld transceiver) We've got a containment breach down at Containment Wing A, please send security. Fast. SCP-8106: Security is going to have to glue you back together when I'm done with you. Your screams will echo throughout these halls, striking terror into the hearts and minds of all my future victims. (SCP-8106 produces a semi-automatic pistol. Dr. Wren appears panicked, and backs up against the wall.) SCP-8106: Say your prayers, doctor. Dr. Wren: Oh, fucking shit— (SCP-8106 pulls the trigger. The weapon does not fire.) SCP-8106: What?! Are you kidding me?! Not again! (SCP-8106 looks down the barrel of the weapon as it adjusts the magazine, which had been inserted incorrectly. The entity then pulls the trigger, accidentally shooting itself in the face.) SCP-8106: OWW, FUCK! CURSE YOU AND YOUR HUMAN TRICKERY! (SCP-8106, now blind in one eye, rounds the corridor corner, where Dr. Wren can be seen frantically running away. The entity gives chase.) SCP-8106: Think you can run, human? Soon the janitors will be scraping your innards off the linoleum floor! (Dr. Wren does not respond, and runs through the Site-40 canteen, where the floor is being mopped.) SCP-8106: I'VE GOT YOU NOW— (SCP-8106 slips on the wet floor, falling face-first onto the ground. Dr. Wren escapes unharmed.) Dr. Wren: (Through the transceiver) Yeah, could we get the janitor down at the canteen? We got a little mess on the floor here. SCP-8106: UGH, DAMMIT! DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT! GODDAMN IT DAG NAB IT DAMNIT GODNAG IT DABBIT NANG— (incomprehensible yelling) [END LOG] Notes: SCP-8106 was returned to its cell without incident. The entity's Threat Level is undergoing potential revision. Addendum 8106.3: List of Notable Incidents Date Incident Result 2024-9-5 SCP-8106 appeared in Director █████’s office with four blades in its hands. The entity stumbled and dropped all of its weapons, lacerating itself several times in its feet. 2024-9-8 SCP-8106 attempted to attack maintenance personnel in its containment chamber. The entity crashed its toe into a support girder, and began to wail loudly. The sound continued for six (6) hours. 2024-9-11 SCP-8106 disguised itself as a lunch lady in the Site-40 canteen, before attacking personnel who were being distributed their food rations. While giving chase, the entity stumbled into one of the tables, falling over and crashing its face into the floor. 2024-9-13 SCP-8106 assaulted personnel in the Site-40 Decommissioning Wing. SCP-8106 was accidentally knocked off the catwalks by a security guard into the incinerator. Entity survived. 2024-9-15 SCP-8106 attempted to attack SCP-████ during a total containment breach. SCP-████ engaged SCP-8106 in physical combat. The latter entity was found on the floor with several broken bones. 2024-9-16 While being treated for its injuries in the Site-40 medical ward, SCP-8106 attempted to unplug another patient’s life support system. 22 needles found in various parts of SCP-8106’s body. 2024-9-22 [DATA EXPUNGED] The walrus has yet to be found. After careful consideration, SCP-8106's Threat Level has been downgraded to Green ●. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8106" by ubergoober, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8106. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. |
SCP-8108 | keter | Item#: 8108 Level2 Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: ekhi Risk Class: notice link to memo SCP-8108's logo, as seen on its homepage. ✖ Special Containment Procedures: To combat the continued existence of SCP-8108, the O5 Council has instituted Operation Data Denial. The parameters of this operation are as follows; 1. MTF Delta-6 "Watchdogs" are to discontinue any involvement with ongoing SCP research and focus solely on searching for the perpetrators of SCP-8108's creation. They will be granted unprecedented Level 4 Clearance to pursue leads considered otherwise inaccessible. Anyone found to have connections to SCP-8108 are to be immediately detained and brought in for questioning. 2. Site-15's Networking Department will establish a new division, created with the sole purpose of targeting SCP-8108 as it appears on the World Wide Web and taking it offline through any means necessary. Only individuals with Clearance Level 3 or above will be permitted to take part in this division. 3. Foundation web crawlers, should SCP-8108 be noticed by a significant portion of the general population, will disseminate a cover story involving amateur coders creating a fictional site for a school project. Material evidence to provide legitimacy to this cover story has already been fabricated and sent to the necessary parties. Description: SCP-8108 is the designation granted to an anomalous website known originally as FoundationFantasyLeague.com. First recorded appearance of the website was on 12/08/21 before being taken offline by Foundation web crawlers. Since then, it has been taken down an estimated 100,542 times across 89,445 different domains. The website operates in a similar fashion to a fantasy football league website, the difference being that 'players' are instead Foundation personnel and their respective Sites are 'teams'. Users are able to draft Foundation personnel onto their fantasy team and earn or lose points depending on that personnel's achievements for the week. The website contains information on the personal history of the researchers, anomalies they are involved with, as well as details pertaining to the Site they operate under. Despite the best efforts of Foundation investigators; no organization, entity, or persons have been linked to the creation of SCP-8108. GoI-2979("Are We Cool Yet?") and GoI-α-019 ("The Serpent's Hand") have been investigated thoroughly for any link to SCP-8108 and have thus far proven to be ignorant of its existence. The Foundation was first alerted to the site's existence by Fred Teller, a Guest Researcher working in the Networking Department of Site-15. Likewise, investigation into Teller has yielded no significant leads. The information listed on SCP-8108, as stated prior, portrays Foundation researchers as 'players' and has statistics that are updated weekly. Attempts to seclude these researchers and prevent information leaks have failed unilaterally. As of this point in time, the only way to remove Foundation personnel from the website is to send them to a space completely separated from the Baseline Reality. This is only a temporary measure, as they will return to the site's listing upon re-entering our reality. A proposal from the Site Director of Site-15 to disconnect portions of every Foundation Site from the Baseline Reality to 'hide' researchers from SCP-8108 has been denied by the O5-Council with a 2-11 vote. An example of the information found on SCP-8108 can be found below. Certain sections have been redacted to protect the privacy of Dr. Lamb. Points System: A player's score for the week is based off a combination of their merits and demerits. For every anomaly studied, five points are added to the total. Ten points are added per page of paperwork filed and ten deducted per injury incurred. Finally, for every hour spent with an anomaly, the researcher is granted five points. Name Team Division Anomalies Studied Injuries Incurred Paperwork Filed Hours Spent With Anomalies Status Total Points Dr. Naomi Lamb Site-38 Archival Department SCP-3046, SCP-4720 0 Injuries Ten Pages 9 Hours Alive 155 Dr. Naomi Lamb, Site-38. ✖ Bio: Born December 5th 1979 in ███████, Ohio. Dr. Lamb graduated with honors from █████ University and was employed by The Foundation two years later where she has played for Site-38 ever since. Dr. Lamb has broken several records at Site-38 for consecutive days without injury among other achievements. News: Site Director Morin is rumored to be aiming to trade Dr. Lamb to Site-19. However, other reports suggest that Site Director Turner of Site-54 is hoping to bring Dr. Lamb in to create a new division. Please stay tuned for more details. Rankings: Dr. Lamb has consistently ranked in the 75th percentile of the players at Site-38 since she was drafted. NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION RECORDS AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION I am extremely disappointed to hear of a rumor circulating that some researchers find SCP-8108's existence humorous and have taken it upon themselves to 'gamble' on their fellow personnels' lives. Are you aware of the reason behind SCP-8108's disruption class being set to Ekhi? We are dealing with an anonymous source that is continuously broadcasting not only your coworkers, but also your activities. This information could have devastating consequences for the Foundation should it fall into the wrong hands. SCP-8108 directly threatens The Veil and anyone found to be accessing the website will face dire consequences. — Maria Jones, Director, RAISA Access SCiPNET Email? One (1) new message! Re:Important Audio File To: tni.pcs|wolrabffoeg#tni.pcs|wolrabffoeg From: tni.pcs|nosleknytsuj#tni.pcs|nosleknytsuj Subject: Important Audio File Date: January 3rd, 2024 12:55 Attachments: TestFile(1).mp3 Barlow, I apologize if you're busy, but I have an audio file I need you to analyze. It comes from one of our confidants in MC&D and we have reason to believe a suspected PoI might be mixed in there somewhere. Please isolate their voice at your earliest convenience. I also included a transcript of what we could decipher so far, so check that after you've listened to the file. Access TestFile(1).mp3 Transcript Research Assistant Kelson. Secure, Contain, Protect ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8108" by Malvarik1, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8108. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Logo.jpg Author: Malvarik1 License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Filename: Test2.jpg Author: Malvarik1 License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Alicia_Gordillo,_Doctora_en_Biomedicina_y_experta_en_Obesidad.jpg |
SCP-8110 | keter | BY ORDER OF THE OVERSEER COUNCIL The following file describes a Keter-class anomaly and is Level 4/8110 Classified. Unauthorized access is forbidden. 8110 Item#: 8110 Level4 Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: danger link to memo Apollo 14 Landing Site (█ Miles from SCP-8110's Initial Discovery). Assigned Site Site Director Research Head Assigned Task Force LFRMAU Area-02 Hu Wei Cheung Li I-77 "Silent Running" Skull of recovered SCP-8110 Instance. Special Containment Procedures: A secure perimeter is to be established around the Fra Mauro Formation at the site of SCP-8110's initial discovery, and is to be monitored remotely by personnel at Lunar Area-02. Observation and recording equipment is to be situated at the Northern and Southern regions of the site and footage is to be reviewed by Level 4 personnel at least twice every week. Interaction with SCP-8110 is strictly forbidden. Lunar rovers, operated remotely by personnel, are to undergo daily seismic inspections to record new SCP-8110 phenomena. Newly recovered instances are to remain sealed in radiologically-controlled containment vaults at all available Lunar facilities and are not to be interacted with under any circumstances. Due to the exposure of Foundation operations in the area, E-Class agents are to work in tandem with the National Aeronautics and Space Administration to cover up and discredit any recorded sightings of their presence by unauthorised parties. Personnel are not permitted access to the Fra Mauro without O5 approval. Description: SCP-8110 is the designation for a mass grave site consisting of a number of mummified humanoid corpses buried beneath the lunar surface, located in the Fra Mauro Formation. These corpses usually exhibit advanced decay and severe dehydration, and are regularly deprived of all their internal organs. Based on measurements via the use of Geiger counters, SCP-8110 instances maintain a stable radiation level of 50-70 microsieverts due to their prolonged burial within the lunar surface. Since its establishment in 2001, Site-51Lunar Area-02 has remained oblivious to SCP-8110's presence prior to its official discovery in 2008 (See Addendum 8110.1). Whilst no approximate estimate towards the total number of corpses has been achieved, the minimum population is confirmed to be ███. Upon recovery, SCP-8110 instances were first thought to be non-anomalous, however further research indicated that new instances suggestibly manifest every few weeks2. Following the cessation of research from the SCP-8110 project, (See Addendum 8110.6), these manifestation events have ceased. Addendum 8110.1: Discovery Map of the Fra Mauro Formation. SCP-8110 was first brought to the Foundation's attention on February 11th 2008 during an initial field analysis within the Fra Mauro Formation by research team ON-5 "Balthazar". Performing seismic scans in search of potential samples of Helium3, researchers noted abnormal readings detecting unidentified objects close to the surface and quickly began excavation with applied digging tools, leading to the discovery of the first instances of SCP-8110. Upon relaying the find back to Lunar Area-02, a full research division was deployed to perform a full field analysis. Further excavation efforts lead to an entire grave site consisting of an estimated total of 23 bodies. Advanced drilling and excavation equipment were requested by the Regional Director as well as personnel from Crypto-biological divisions to determine the nature behind SCP-8110. Nearly a month later, a containment perimeter was formed around the Fra Mauro and containment protocols were established. Initial analysis, carried out by field researchers, detected potential activity within the location of SCP-8110's discovery prior to initial contact despite the lack of expeditions carried out within the region, suggesting potential third party interference. This interference consisted mainly of footsteps and tire tracks with no discernible destination when followed by personnel, and investigation is ongoing. DATE: 03/07/08 FROM: Senior Researcher Cheung Li, (Lunar Area-02) TO: Assistant Director Jin Yakov, (Protected Site-98-2) SUBJECT: Initial Analysis of SCP-8110 We have successfully analysed the SCP-8110 grave site and have made several interesting observations. Whilst the site poses no potential threat to human intervention, Classification wants to hold off on Safe-class publication due to the unknown origins of the corpses we have uncovered. In order to change their minds, I have proposed the autopsy of several of the excavated bodies from the lunar surface. That's my reason for contacting you. You see, upon initial discovery we found traces of previous human interference such as footprints and tire tracks despite there being no former expeditions within the area. Perhaps if we knew how these people died (if we can even call them people), then we have a better understanding towards how they got here. What's more is our concerns over the current population total. We've held off on excavation for the time being and have estimated a total towards the amount of bodies currently uncovered, but every couple of days it seems to increase by a small few. All we've been told to do is set up monitoring equipment and watch. Not exactly the smartest course of containment in my opinion. For the bodies we have fully excavated, we have them sealed in radiological containment vaults at Lunar Area-02 and have been prohibited from interacting with them. I'm personally requesting we have them transported back home for autopsy so we can hopefully get some answers to explain this phenomenon. After all no one would think it'd be logical to send a pathologist to the moon to search for bodies. DATE: 03/08/08 FROM: Assistant Director Jin Yakov, (Protected Site-98-2) TO: Senior Researcher Cheung Li, (Lunar Area-02) SUBJECT: RE: Initial Analysis of SCP-8110 I'm afraid we cannot permit transport of radiological hazards with the current space crafts we have, and transit through SCP-120 has been denied by order of O5 due to possible cross-anomaly contamination. All recovered corpses are hereby ordered to remain contained at any and all Lunar facilities until further notice. Request for a pathologist has been approved, but preparation and deployment will take an estimated 18 months, so an autopsy will have to wait. As for the potential assumption of previous human intervention on the Fra Mauro, I looked into all lunar research expeditions and patrols within that area. There has been no recorded presence within the SCP-8110 grave site. It seems we have covered near to every corner of the Fra Mauro except that particular region. Following concerns over control of population growth, limit contact with the anomaly and observe until we have more information. In the meantime, I propose an investigation into the Apollo missions to the moon. From my understanding, Apollo 14 successfully landed in the Fra Mauro Formation. If there is any way of getting a clearer understanding of this anomaly's origins, it's there. Addendum 8110.2: Historical Overview Agents embedded within the National Aeronautics and Space Administration were authorised to carry out a low-level investigation relevant to the Apollo missions for further information into SCP-8110's origins. The following is an interview between Special Agent Robert Kennedy and NASA Administrator Michael D. Griffin after their initial investigation. Interview with NASA Administrator Date: 05/██/08 Subject: Apollo 14 Mission Analysis Interviewer: Special Agent Robert Kennedy Interviewed: NASA Administrator Michael D. Griffin Note: Prior to investigation, Griffin was already aware of the Foundation due to joint collaboration with the Department of Lunar Assessment at Site-98. [BEGIN LOG] Kennedy: What can you tell me about the Apollo 14 mission? Griffin: Not much, I'm afraid. I wasn't around during that period. Kennedy: I'm very much aware of that, but we are trying to find the source behind potential interaction with an anomalous presence during that mission. Griffin: Well, I know we changed 14's mission to the Fra Mauro Formation following several system failures in Apollo 13. I wasn't even here and I dread a repeat of such an event happening under my supervision. But I can assure you that whatever it is you are looking for, you won't find anything here. Kennedy: I'll be the judge of that. Now, have there been any notable occurrences or abnormalities during any missions to the moon? Griffin: No point in asking me, my career only began in the 1980's, long after the last Apollo mission: Apollo 17. You should really be asking someone who actually tended to those operations. Kennedy: Unfortunately, our most reliable sources present in the 1970's are now deceased. You're all we've got, I'm afraid. Griffin: Well, [EXPLETIVE]. Kennedy: Why did NASA stop going to the moon? Griffin: Oh, you're not going to believe this. We actually stopped going due to lack of interest from the public. We originally had plans for Apollos 18 through 20, but those plans fell through when money dwindled. It actually wasn't our choice, Congress were the ones who cancelled the Apollo program. As well as that, not every mission was properly defined; it seemed as if we were just sending men to walk on the moon and enjoy the view. Kennedy: Sounds believable, but irrelevant, to say the least. Griffin: I thought that if there were any information pertaining to the moon your Foundation would be the first to know. I mean, how long has the Foundation secretly overseen NASA operations? Kennedy: About ██ years now. Griffin: See? It should be me asking you about Apollo 14, not the other way around. What is it you are even investigating that involves our intervention? Kennedy: Hold on. The sound of papers shuffling can be heard as KENNEDY hands GRIFFIN an image of an SCP-8110 instance. Kennedy: This is what we're containing. A moment's silence is heard as GRIFFIN examines the image. Griffin: What is this? Kennedy: We've classified it as SCP-8110, a grave site consisting of humanoid corpses that we have discovered in the Fra Mauro Formation. Griffin: Interesting. I can see why you're investigating this. Never seen anything like this from our lunar observations. Kennedy: NASA still monitors the moon? Griffin: We never stopped. Granted, we haven't had as much of our funding invested into lunar evaluation as we did back in '69, but there was never any reason to take eyes off the moon completely. Kennedy: What happened to the crew of Apollo 14 post-mission to the moon? Griffin: According to our records, they gathered roughly 94lbs worth of lunar rock for study. The point behind this was for further understanding behind the early history of the moon. They spent roughly 30 hours on the moon, I think. During transit, I remember that 14 ran into similar complications as Apollo 13 that almost caused another disaster, but was thankfully resolved. Upon their return, they would have entered quarantine due to the potential exposure to harmful radiation. Kennedy: Okay, and those lunar samples that the crew of Apollo 14 recovered, would it be possible for us to borrow them for research and analysis? Griffin: So long as you can guarantee we can get them back, untampered with, of course. Probably won't be easy for me to secure the proper authorisation for this, but I should be able to get them for you. Kennedy: Thank you. We've been looking into SCP-8110's origins since we discovered it and this could be a great start. Griffin: Good. Now, is there anything else I can help you with, or is that all? Kennedy: Well, when we were analysing your records from throughout the early 1970's— Griffin: (Interrupts) I'm sorry, you went through our records? Kennedy: That is how we operate. And our investigation was to remain on the down-low. Griffin: (Hesitates) Fine. What about our records? Kennedy: Going over recorded funds and resources, we noticed a relatively large assignment of your budget to "Aquarius". Griffin: The Apollo 13 Lunar Module? Nothing strange there, if anything that was for the initial preparation, training and deployment of the Apollo 13 mission. As well as that, these missions were obviously expensive and would have taken a considerable chunk out of our budget. Kennedy: No. We accounted for those funds upon finding this. This was sooner, like after the deployment of Apollo 12. Griffin: What are you saying? Kennedy: Have there been any unscheduled launches to the moon in 1970? [END LOG] Post-interview, lunar samples recovered during the Apollo 14 mission were attained by the Foundation and taken to Protected Site-98-2 for research and analysis. Samples were then returned on ██/██/08 without incident. In an effort to further understand and track the age of discovered SCP-8110 instances discovered within the active zone of the Fra Mauro Formation, methods, such as carbon-dating, were used on recovered samples for comparison with SCP-8110. Upon being granted clearance to obtain a sample from SCP-8110-██ and SCP-8110-██3, results appeared inconclusive. It is apparent that there is no trace of an SCP-8110 encounter with the Apollo missions. We're done here. - Senior Researcher Cheung Li Addendum 8110.3: Excavation 10/02/08 Following SCP-8110's discovery, excavation equipment transported from various Lunar facilities were dispatched to the Fra Mauro Formation supervised by research personnel. DATE: 10/02/08 FROM: Foreman Richmond Lang, (Lunar Area-02) TO: Assistant Director Jin Yakov, (Protected Site-98-2) SUBJECT: Status of SCP-8110 Excavation Well, we've begun our excavation efforts. Never had this much drilling equipment here before. Normally we're tasked with simple mining jobs and don't have to be as careful as this. But that's not my primary concern at the moment. You see my crew have been rather tense ever since this job began, claiming they feel like they're being watched by these corpses we're digging up. Most of them would rather stare into the infinite abyss of space instead of work. Because of this, progression is slow. However we are relatively short on staff for this operation and would personally like to request a transfer of personnel from the other lunar sites to help speed up our efforts. Research just hangs around to watch and cart off the recovered bodies when authorised, but don't actually partake in the digging part. I can't let them—they're unqualified. At least they know to keep their distance when we're working, but we need more manpower; the equipment we have is sufficient enough but there just isn't enough staff to man them. I need more focus on this job otherwise you won't get significant enough progress until the new year. SCP-8110-09 post-autopsy. Addendum 8110.4: Autopsy Report Following Excavation 10/02/08, twelve SCP-8110 instances were successfully recovered from the Fra Mauro Formation and transported to Lunar Area-02. As per dated containment protocols [REVISION-8110-03/19/08], instances were kept in radiological-controlled storage lockers. On 06/17/09, a pathologist was dispatched to Lunar Area-02 to perform an autopsy on the recovered instances, labelled SCP-8110-01 through -12. Subject Date Prognosis Gender Age SCP-8110-01 03/19/09 Undetermined Supposedly Male Mid 40's SCP-8110-02 03/19/09 Blunt Force Trauma Unknown Undetermined SCP-8110-04 03/20/09 Asphyxiation Male Mid-Late 30's SCP-8110-07 03/22/09 Undetermined Unknown 40's-50's SCP-8110-09 03/23/09 [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] SCP-8110-10 03/23/09 Cerebral Hypoxia4 Supposedly Male Early 40's SCP-8110-12 03/24/09 Blunt Force Trauma Female 40's-50's SCP-8110-12 AUTOPSY REPORT Date of Recovery: 01/15/09 Gender: Female Identification: SCP-8110-12 Attending: Dr. Oliver Maldack Diagnosis: Brain Haemorrhage Description: Subject was first uncovered on January 15th 2009 and contained at Lunar Area-02 two weeks later. Specimen measures approximately 1.93m in height and emits roughly 63 micro sieverts of radiation every hour, making it increasingly hazardous for analysis to be performed. Specimen is deprived of approximately 83% of internal organs with the exception of its gallbladder, larynx, spleen, cochlea, diaphragm and pancreas. No discernible pattern or reasoning behind why these organs have remained has been procured. Subject appears highly dehydrated and is most likely the source behind absence of kidneys, brain and blood vessels. Bone marrow is in advanced state of decay that is impossible to presume and is even beginning to break down, making handling of the body incredibly difficult to achieve without causing damage to the specimen. Specimen is currently the most preserved one to hand and is suggestibly older than the rest in containment. Gross Description: N/A Microscopic Description: Confirmed blunt force trauma to the head, suggesting death from possible brain haemorrhage, however lack of subject's brain has yet to yield further insight into this theory. Malignancies caused in the skin via deteriorated bone marrow likely causing lymphoproliferative disorders within subject. Comment: Following recent review of SCP-8110-09 and SCP-8110-12, we can conclude that the corpses are indeed human in nature. However, we still have no clear understanding towards how long they have been here, let alone how they arrived. We can only assume how old the bodies are through their rate of decomposition, but due to the rapid rate of decay, especially in these environments, it is more than likely inaccurate. SCP-8110 Excavation 06/21/10. Addendum 8110.5: Excavation Report 07/06/10 On June 21st 2010, excavation within the active SCP-8110 zone was halted by order of Foreman Richmond Lang. After coming under review by the Department of Lunar Assessment and being deemed suitable to resume, several inquiries were filed by personnel. Eventually, progression led to discovery of new materials which sparked further interest from research personnel. A report filed by the site's foreman supplied insight towards the recent findings in the Fra Mauro Formation. SCP-8110 EXCAVATION REPORT LUNAR AREA-02 FOREMAN RICHMOND LANG Date: 07/06/10 I have called off current excavation efforts for SCP-8110 for the time being. In recent weeks, the deeper we have gone to find older instances, there has been a deviation from the usual pattern of discovery we've had with each new body. You see, recently we've been uncovering materials such as metals and what we believe is foil. The condition of these materials are highly corroded, not to mention fragile. Due to the new data, I have halted further excavation until we know more about what's going on here. As of now, the materials have been handed off to Research; maybe they can make heads or tails out of what's going on here. From what we have uncovered, I thought Research would want to stick their noses into it and they advised that there may be more materials such as what we've uncovered within the SCP-8110 active zone. Because of this, they want to hold off on the use of drilling equipment and for us to resort to using simple hand tools. I don't think they are aware of how hard it is to perform excavation on the moon for a job this big so, until I can get them off my back, I've withheld all further activity within the area. On another note, the longer we spend trying to understand what's going on here, the more my staff becomes paranoid. I've mentioned several times before about my men believing they're being watched by these corpses, but now it seems to be impairing their work ethic. After completing their shift, most seem to report to voluntary counselling. Due to all psychological counselling being confidential, I can't understand as to what it is they are on edge about, and when confronted about their paranoia they just remain silent. Upon discussion with Researcher Li, he has suggested that it may be result of the Oxygen quality within our mining gear. Granted, it is dated but I don't think that is the issue. I have inquired an evaluation of all our gear to prevent such an occurrence from happening, but productivity with excavation is still thoroughly impaired because of this. From the issues mentioned above, it has become increasingly challenging for me to understand what kind of attention we are getting here. We are still short on the required personnel to operate our machinery, Research seems to be hiding something from us whenever confronted about new developments, and incompetence with even my most experienced workers is becoming more common. The nature of these abnormalities have been filed with Area Director Hu Wei and he has issued a full-site evaluation by the end of the month. Request to transfer. Addendum 8110.6: Suspension of Research ██/██/10 FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE IMMEDIATE SUSPENSION OF RESEARCH & EXCAVATION OF SCP-8110 Effective immediately, the Department of Lunar Assessment has issued a reassignment of funds from the SCP-8110 project. The cost of continuous transfer of equipment and personnel has proven unsuitable and unsustainable in view of the limited returns the project offers. Over the following two years, we have spent more than 4.3 billion dollars in production of equipment, transportation of valuable resources and training of personnel. Furthering development and research into SCP-8110 has yet to exhibit potential leads into the origins behind the corpses' initial manifestation and/or arrival, and analysis of the Apollo missions have lacked any evidence of the anomaly's presence within the 1970's. It could be argued, and has been argued by Senior Researcher Li, that the origins of SCP-8110 are relevant to the understanding of a potential anomalous civilisation. Perhaps so, yet this is a hypothetical argument, and we are faced with potentially draining necessary funds to further development of other significant projects and endeavours. The SCP-8110 project will be discontinued and a change in Special Containment Procedures are to go into effect. Whilst changes are going into effect, funds and resources are to be redirected to the following efforts: CONTAINMENT OF ANOMALOUS STORAGE All fully recovered instances of SCP-8110 are to remain in radiological cold storage at all Lunar facilities. SUPPRESSION OF FOUNDATION VISIBILITY Since its discovery in 2008, SCP-8110 has posed potential exposure to Foundation operations following excavation and research efforts. These are to be covered up as soon as possible. TRANSFER OF RECOVERED MATERIALS All irrelevant personnel and resources are to be deported from the lunar surface immediately and recovered materials of any value or interest are to remain at Lunar Area-02. Closing Personal Statement: We're taking it back to simple containment protocols from here: Put it in a box and leave it alone. It may sound absurd and there is history here, but just to what has remained entirely unknown. Classification has brought this SCP under review and will make a decision shortly. Until then, there's not much left for us here; those who feel mothballed are to be reminded that not all anomalies hold the secrets that they're looking for even when it's not there. Addendum 8110.7: Recovered Items The following is a list of items recovered from the active SCP-8110 zone during Excavation 06/21/10. Item Recovery Date Weight (Kg) Condition Additional Information Aluminium alloy 06/21/10 0.3Kg Poor Item was highly corroded and its atomic structure heavily deteriorated. Titanium 06/21/10 1.74Kg Moderate N/A Steel 06/21/10 2.6Kg Poor N/A Polytetrafluoroethylene Fibreglass 06/21/10 0.09Kg Poor The composition of the fibreglass is similar to that of Apollo astronauts' space suits. Recovered Video Tape 06/23/10 0.21Kg Moderate Recovered later in the SCP-8110 active zone shortly after excavation in the site was halted. You told us to go deeper and that's what we did. We've been so wrong about this anomaly. -Senior Researcher Cheung Li [ACCESS RECOVERED VIDEO LOG] [CLOSE] RECOVERED SCP-8110 VIDEO LOG DATE: 02/12/1970 CONTEXT: Proposed Lunar Landing [BEGIN LOG] [00:00] [DATA CORRUPTED] Static for 43 seconds. [00:22] UNKNOWN 1: -ere is it? Distorted audio followed by further static. UNKNOWN 2: -ead us, Houston? RADIO: Affirmative, Holston. [STATIC] to the West. [00:43] Video returns. An Apollo astronaut is visible standing roughly 10 feet from a Lunar Lander. UNKNOWN 2/HOLSTON: Landon, you see it? The astronaut turns to the camera, suggestibly held by another Apollo astronaut. [00:59] [DATA CORRUPTED] [01:29] RADIO: -ollo 13, you're breaking up. Location has changed to an estimated 34 feet from the Lunar Lander. UNKNOWN 1/LANDON: (Raised voice) We need more men! HOLSTON: Houston? [01:44] The two astronauts continue trekking away from the Lunar Lander. Continued silence for 13 seconds. [01:57] Static returns. [02:07] RADIO: Aquarius, do you copy? Over. [02:13] Video returns. The astronauts are standing still before the camera turns to face the Lunar Lander. It is no longer there. RADIO: Apollo 13, do you copy? Over. [02:19] HOLSTON: Houston, are you seeing these rocks? UNKNOWN 3: (Over radio) Holston, do you copy? The camera turns back. The astronaut identified as LANDON is no longer visible. HOLSTON: I told you I didn't want to come down here alone, Oscar. UNKNOWN 3/OSCAR: (Over radio) What's going on, Andy? [02:38] HOLSTON: You won't believe what I'm seeing down here, Oskie. The camera turns down to the left of HOLSTON to see an instance of SCP-8110 emerging from the lunar surface. [03:47] [DATA CORRUPTED] [END LOG] Footnotes 1. There is no Site-5. 2. The source behind this phenomenon has yet to be determined. 3. The only instances successfully liberated from the lunar surface at the time of documentation. 4. Unconfirmed. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8110" by ClaudeHinton, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8110. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. 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SCP-8111 | archon | This world doesn’t need the old man that I am anymore, so I opted for a change as well. Magic for Liars SCP-8111 — Magic for Liars Prehaps I'm tired to try. [2 minutes read] ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} 5/8111 LEVEL 5/8111 CLASSIFIED Item #: SCP-8111 Archon + Revised Containment Procedures Archived by RAISA 4/4/1952 + Revised Containment Procedures Archived by RAISA 4/4/1952 + Revised Containment Procedures Archived by RAISA 5/2/1971 + Revised Containment Procedures Archived by RAISA 5/2/1971 + Revised Containment Procedures Archived by RAISA 8/9/1992 + Revised Containment Procedures Archived by RAISA 8/9/1992 + Revised Containment Procedures Archived by RAISA 1/7/1997 + Revised Containment Procedures Archived by RAISA 1/7/1997 Special Containment Procedures: Under directive from the Overseers, SCP-8111 is to be left alone by any SCP Foundation member. SCP-8111. Description: SCP-8111 is a Class X humanoid reality-altering entity and verified Grand Thaumaturgist who refers to itself as "Frill Wizard." SCP-8111 appears as an old, tall, human male with grey hair and beard. SCP-8111 can speak fluently in all languages and most known dead languages. SCP-8111 was born in an unknown period, presumably before 900 BC. They are responsible for creating, directly or indirectly, multiple SCP objects, anomalous entities and Groups of Interests. Addendum: Four years after the Foundation announced the Broken Masquerade Scenario in 1998, SCP-8111 quit its high-level position within the Foundation and joined the newly formed Group of Interest known as "Staging Hats." Since then, they have not been seen using any of their Reality-Bending or Thaumaturgical abilities. INTERVIEW LOG [SCP-8111 is seen walking with its cane in the streets of Chennai, India. He is wearing a top hat and holding a bag of groceries, and despite the heavy rain pouring, he is smiling.] [Another man with an umbrella walks in the opposite direction. He appears young and is wearing a black business suit. He stops in front of SCP-8111, who does so too.] Unknown: How are you doing? SCP-8111: Holding up. What about you? [Silence. The rain is growing stronger.] Unknown: Why? SCP-8111: It's starting to get wet. Maybe we should go somewhere more dry. [The man raises their hand and gestures to the sky. The rain abruptly stops, forming a dry circle around the two men.] Unknown: Let's talk. SCP-8111: If you wish. [They both sit in front of a little coffee shop, where two wooden chairs and a table are situated. A barista comes to them; SCP-8111 orders coffee in Hindi.] SCP-8111: That store has Kaapi. Have you tried it? I just discovered it yesterday, and it was a nice surprise. Unknown: Why did you leave the Foundation? SCP-8111: We really are coming back to this? I thought I made myself clearer in the file. Unknown: Look at you. You're walking with a cane. And we both know there are many easy spells to fix this. SCP-8111: I’ve seen people who grew another arm to be more efficient. A third leg is not so bad either. Unknown: You're letting yourself go. Less than a year ago, I could've sworn you were looking 10 years younger. SCP-8111: It feels right to be in a body that finally fits your age, at least a little more. Unknown: Sooner than enough, you’ll be senile and decaying. SCP-8111: Eh, it’s not so bad. [Silence. The barista returns with the Indian filtered coffee and places it on the table before them.] Unknown: Why? SCP-8111: I'm tired. What more do you need? Unknown: You were someone I admired. You were- SCP-8111: Oh, don't give me that crap anymore. There are many more important figures to be proud of in history than me. Unknown: And you left us for… that? I don't even know what that group is. SCP-8111: They are magicians. Unknown: Illusionists. A group of illusionists who emerged a bit after the fall of the Veil and considered the use of thaumaturgy a "cheat" for their magic. Fueled by frustration over their work being overshadowed by genuine magic. SCP-8111: The only non-anomalous GoI. They are determined to regain the spotlight through the sheer brilliance of their skill and creativity. Isn't that amazing? Unknown: It's stupid. SCP-8111: Maybe. But wouldn't you get angry if your job got replaced after only a few years? Unknown: You're avoiding my question. Again. [Silence. SCP-8111 takes a sip from their cup.] SCP-8111: Do you want to hear a story? Unknown: Will it answer my question? SCP-8111: Maybe. It's for you to see. Unknown: Fine. SCP-8111: Many many years ago, when I was nothing but a young and curious boy, a strange man visited our village. The man wore a grey robe and had the longest beard I had ever seen, it made me laugh. When I approached the man, he asked me, "What do you wish for." My simple child's mind couldn't think of anything bigger than my most basic needs currently filling my mind, so I asked for "some food." Out of thin air, the most reddish apple I have ever seen appeared in the palm of his hand. I took a bite out of it, and it was truly delicious. When I asked the man how he did such a thing, he smiled and vanished. Apparently, he had to go. I never saw the man again. SCP-8111: That's when I first learned about magic. You already know the following years of my life. I was eager for knowledge, so I quit my little village and my family to discover the wonders of this world. I promised myself not to stop travelling until I couldn't find something new in this world anymore. I witnessed and studied every phenomenon that could raise a question upon me. I discovered books of esoteric knowledge, an infinite library filled with also-infinite knowledge. I've discovered creatures of appearance indescribable, some smarter than my own species. I've met multiple people with powers and curiosity similar to mine, some good and some bad. And with all this knowledge I acquired over the years, I decided to join a group that could help me expand this wisdom even further. And I quit it, only to join another. And another. And so on. Until I found my own group, one I could be proud of. [SCP-8111 takes another sip from their cup.] SCP-8111: But recently, something changed the group's direction. Revealing most of the wonders I had previously discovered to the rest of the world. This did not bother me; my directive would continue either way. One day, I felt like going out of my office for once. See what the world is up to, I suppose. So I went for a walk in a random street. To my surprise, there was not much change. The dark world that I have hidden actually merged perfectly with the light. Children were now playing around with harmless spells, and creatures I swore to contain were now united with humanity. SCP-8111: I noticed a small crowd gathered around something I couldn't see. I approached to see what they could be looking at. A young man wearing a top hat and a red cape was presenting a street performance, the magic type. He was in the middle of a card trick, and apparently, he guessed the card of a little girl. The little girl was clearly left unimpressed, but he kept his cheerful smile on either way. After that, he chose someone else in the audience and pointed to me. I approached the man, and he asked me if I was hungry. I answered yes, curious as to where it would all go. And wouldn't you know it, he pulled a green apple from his hand, which he handed to me. As he walked away for another trick, my memories of my youthful years came back to me. Do you know what surprised me the most? Unknown: … What? SCP-8111: I had no idea how he did it. Despite my centuries of knowledge about magic, I couldn't guess how he pulled that trick. There are no signs of thaumaturgical radiation, unusual hume level or any anomalous artifacts to help him. He just did it! [Silence.] Unknown: That's it? The guy reveals a fruit that was hidden in his sleeve. And you quit the most powerful organization? SCP-8111: The apple was too big for his sle- Unknown: Oh my god! There are a thousand ways he could have hidden it! If you had been a little more careful, you could have seen through his trick! SCP-8111: And that's exactly the point. I didn't. I lost touch with reality because I was preoccupied with the hidden. [Silence.] SCP-8111: The fact is, this group truly amazes me. I use all my expertise to help them determine if their members respect their art without doing anything anomalous. Unknown: So that's it. You could use your power to do big, helpful things. Instead, you became the coach of a small GoI that will most likely be forgotten in the coming years. SCP-8111: I have done what I think is good all my life. Can you at least leave me this? [SCP-8111 takes a final sip. He rises from the chair.] SCP-8111: I have to go. There's a magic presentation not far from there I need to see. If you want, you can join me. [SCP-8111 picks up his cane and starts walking away from the coffee shop. He briefly looks back at the man while putting his top hat back on.] SCP-8111: If not, it was nice seeing you again. [SCP-8111 walks out from the dry circle and into the rain.] [The dry circle slowly closes. The Overseer doesn't move.] ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8111" by Felixou, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8111. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: magician.jpg Name: Photography wallpaper facial-hair man beard-chin moustache human elder portait Author: @nazanin License: Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication Source Link: Wikicommons THUMBNAIL Filename: rain.png Name: old man walking through the rain Author: Piotr Szczepankiewicz License: CC BY-SA 2.0 DEED Source Link: Flickr |
SCP-8112 | euclid | SCP-8112 (sleeves folded.) Item #: SCP-8112 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8112 is contained in a containment locker at Site-17. Containment of PoI-1881 is deemed unnecessary at this time. SCP-8112 is held in a containment cell at Site-17. SCP-8112 is adorned on a mannequin and monitored for any deviations in its behavior. Personnel possessing information in regards towards more reliable containment measures are to report to Dr. Kirby immediately.1 Description: SCP-8112 is a black T-shirt with the phrase "I'M WITH STUPID ➜'' printed in yellow HTV.2 SCP-8112 rotates in a manner similar to a compass, with the arrow continuously tracking PoI-1881's location. PoI-1881 is Bobby Dune, a college student residing in █████, Florida, United States of America. PoI-1881 is a baseline human and is unaware of the anomalous. SCP-8112's and PoI-1881's relationship is largely one-sided, as any physical interaction performed on the former will not affect the latter. Addendum-01: SCP-8112 was originally recovered from a local thrift shop. It was revealed that neither PoI-1881 and SCP-8112 share commonality with each other except from their city of origin. Dissatisfied with the investigation's results, Dr. Kirby personally conducted tests with the object to establish the extent of its properties. (To access the unabridged version, contact Dr. Kirby.) ▶ ACCESS SCiPNET:/8112/Containment_Log ◀ ▷ CLOSE FILE ◁ TEST #: 04 Parameters: SCP-8112 was restrained to a table with duct tape and a 50 lbs weight. Result: SCP-8112 ripped through the tape and achieved movement despite being weighed down. SCP-8112 resumed tracking PoI-1881 albeit significantly slower. Notes: Sure, the shirt's strong. Even then, the anomaly’s very basic. Practically should be on the AI Catalog if anything else. — Dr. Kirby TEST #: 07 Parameters: SCP-8112's arrow was superimposed with a strip of duct tape. Result: The arrow moved away from the tape, resting below it. The arrow corrected its orientation after the strip's removal. Notes: The printing's anomalous too? Interesting. This wasn't an official test, just a moment of curiosity that I didn't think would come to pass. I'd already withdrawn my request for a class downgrade… for now. Best not to get our hopes up. — Dr. Kirby TEST #: 09 Parameters: SCP-8112 was intentionally wrinkled. Result: SCP-8112's graphic design quickly adjusted itself across the wrinkles, managing to appear perfectly flat and legible at any angle. Notes: It's more reactable than I thought. Still, I think we're about done here. We had some objects where that was the exact case… then yet again, I may be grasping at straws here. — Dr. Kirby TEST #: N/A Parameters: N/A Result: While transporting SCP-8112, personnel noticed its phrasing changed, now reading "I'M WITH HANDSOME." SCP-8112's arrow was pointed at a reflection of itself when this occurred. SCP-8112's phrasing reverted to normal after it was pulled away from the reflection. Notes: Bad news. I stand corrected. Good news. I have an idea. — Dr. Kirby TEST #: 15 Parameters: Dr. Kirby placed a series of miscellaneous objects in front of SCP-8112's arrow. Result: None of the objects elicit a reaction, including the same reflection that SCP-8112 reacted to earlier. Dr. Kirby, exasperated, tried to leave the room when he noticed SCP-8112's phrasing was altered to "I'M WITH UGLY!" Dr. Kirby was in the direct path of the arrow. Notes: I think it's time we should revisit those containment measures. TEST #: 16 Parameters: (See Incident 8112-Alpha) Result: (See Incident 8112-Alpha) Notes: No comment. — Dr. Kirby INCIDENT 8112-ALPHA Summary: Enacted by Dr. Kirby, SCP-8112 was restrained inside a newly-constructed containment apparatus that would counteract the anomaly's tracking capabilities by continually spinning it in randomized directions. Criticized for the expense of the apparatus's construction, Dr. Kirby retorted SCP-8112's properties were still under review and becoming "problematic."3 Ultimately, the apparatus was successful in its function. The next day, during a routine inspection, Dr. Kirby noticed SCP-8112's arrow extended past the confines of the anomaly, traveled down the containment apparatus, and rested on the floor.4 When Dr. Kirby returned with more personnel, the arrow had elongated past the chamber's entrance. Unlike previous tests, SCP-8112's graphic design did not revert to baseline behavior since this incident. Containment Attempt#: 01 Protocol: SCP-8112's arrow was removed with acetone and sufficient heating. Aftermath: Protocol failed; SCP-8112's arrow regenerated instantaneously when not observed. The arrow fully extended into the hallway. SCP-8112's phrasing changed to "I'M WITH TICKLISH." Notes: Figures. There's still plenty of avenues to try. -Dr. Kirby Containment Attempt#: 02 Protocol: It was discovered SCP-8112's arrow becomes immobilized when observed. Personnel were then charged with observing the arrow both directly and remotely. Aftermath: Protocol failed; personnel tasked with directly immobilizing SCP-8112 had their vision impaired, experiencing moderate pain. Video-recording devices would inexplicably fail as well. In both cases, there had been a small build up of HTV in the eyes and electronic components respectively. SCP-8112's arrow moved further into the floor's layout. SCP-8112's phrasing changed to "I'M WITH A SIGHT FOR SORE EYES." Notes: It's almost under control. Just need to get a bit more… stricter. -Dr. Kirby Containment Attempt#: 06 Protocol: All unbreached entrances near SCP-8112's arrow would be temporarily sealed. An active Scranton Reality Anchor was deployed in the vicinity. Aftermath: Protocol failed; The anomaly was not affected by the SRA. The arrow breached through the sealed entrances without difficulty. SCP-8112's phrasing changed to "I'M WITH BORING." Notes: Are we even making a dent in it?! -Dr. Kirby Containment Attempt#: 31 Protocol: Incinerating SCP-8112. Background: Protocol never enacted. Although Dr. Kirby's recommendation of decommissioning was considered, the proposal was rejected due to information sourced from SCP-23055; recent excerpts produced by SCP-2305 warned that complete destruction of SCP-8112 would cause their graphic design to evolve as an independent anomaly, consequently become harder to contain, and cause tremendous damage to the viability of the Veil Protocol. Foundation analysts believe SCP-8112 currently has the potential to inflict massive damage on the Veil. Should SCP-8112's arrow leave Site-17, not only would it interact with nearby urban centers, it would inadvertently lead a trail back to the facility. This reasoning is what earned SCP-8112 its Keter reclassification. Aftermath: SCP-8112-1's have breached through one-third of Site-17, heading towards the nearest outdoor exit while causing disruption to staff function. This was when Dr. Kirby observed that SCP-8112's arrow still tracked PoI-1881. Notes: That guy still in Florida? -Dr. Kirby INCIDENT 8112-BETA Summary: Following SCP-8112-A's (formally PoI-1881) arrival to Site-17, SCP-8112's arrow ceased attempting to leave outside, but resumed breaching into more of the facility. Instead of taking the most direct path, the anomaly's arrow would take many redundant and illogical paths before making contact with SCP-8112-A's feet. Additionally, SCP-8112's arrow was now frequently superimposing itself on important documentation and agitating other unrelated sentient anomalies, resulting in personnel to become further irritated. However, it was found that SCP-8112-A wearing SCP-8112 would cause the latter's arrow to decrease in activity, but only by a small margin. Dr. Kirby was intensely scrutinized during this time and viable for massive disciplinary measures, up to and including demotion. Dr. Kirby pleaded such actions were unnecessary and firmly stated SCP-8112's interference will end by month's end. To assist in this endeavor, Dr. Kirby took spoken and written suggestions from Site-17. SUBMISSION: 01 Overview: Utilize thaumaturgy against SCP-8112. Submission: Researcher Linda. Critique: We tried, didn't work. — Dr. Kirby SUBMISSION: 03 Overview: Dr. Kirby's Demotion. Submission: Anonymous. Critique: Acknowledge but not considered. — Dr. Kirby SUBMISSION: 06 Overview: Release SCP-8112-A. Submission: SCP-8112-A. Critique: Denied. — Dr. Kirby SUBMISSION: 07 Overview: Dr. Kirby's resignation. Submission: Anonymous Critique: This is a suggestions box, not a joke box. — Dr. Kirby SUBMISSION: 08 Overview: Communicate with SCP-8112. Submission: Assistant Researcher Alisha Critique: Yet again, tried that, didn't even respond. What's with the lack of submissions? I'm fairly certain I've sent the invites. — Dr. Kirby SUBMISSION: 09 Overview: Dr. Kirby's termination. Submission: Anonymous Critique: If no one is willing to put forth something that is worthwhile, I'm ending the submissions! — Dr. Kirby SUBMISSION: 10 Overview: (See Addendum-02) Submission: SCP-8112. Critique: Don't ask. — Dr. Kirby Addendum-02: SCP-8112's behavior would again deviate; the anomaly would regularly and momentarily direct its arrow away from SCP-8112-A to a multitude of miscellaneous objects (including Dr. Kirby) and images, then revert back to course. In all cases, SCP-8112's phrasing changed to "I'M WITH SOMETHING THAT COULD TOTALLY NEUTRALIZE ME." Though skeptical of this supposed divulgement of weakness, Dr. Kirby decided to explore the possibility fervently in light of the deadline he set for himself fast approaching. Dr. Kirby introduced as many objects to SCP-8112's arrow. Those that elicited a response were further incorporated into his experiments. This led to the culmination of Incident 8112-Charlie. ▶ ACCESS SCiPNET: Incident 8112-Charlie ◀ ▷ CLOSE FILE ◁ [BEGIN LOG] SCP-8112-A: Are monsters real? Guard: Yes. SCP-8112-A: Hmm… are ghosts real? Guard: Dunno. Above my clearance. SCP-8112-A: Hmm… I see… are mummies real? Guard: [Sigh] [Whisper] Why's the last job always a pain in the ass? [SCP-8112-A is sitting on the bed, wearing SCP-8112. SCP-8112's arrow extends from his body, underneath in and out the door, and back to SCP-8112-A's feet. SCP-8112-A smirks, rises from the bed and is sidestepping wildly. The tip of the arrow relocates to his exact position. The guard forces them back on the bed.] Guard: What did I say about leaving the chair? SCP-8112-A: It's a bed! Guard: Chair. Bed. It doesn't mat— [The guard stops talking, and cringes as he rubs his left temple.] SCP-8112-A: C'mon, man! I mean what am I supposed to do? Guard: Nothing. SCP-8112-A: Pfft. Boy and I thought prisons were bad. Still wanting for those Miranda rights— Guard: Bobby. For everything that is holy. Stop. Talking… please. SCP-8112-A: …But seriously. What's the hold up? Shouldn't that science guy be here now? I'm getting hungry. Guard: I told you, I don't know. But I'm sure it's for a good reason. [Two minutes late, the door opens. Dr. Kirby pushed a draped cart into the cell, dressed in a combination of approved attire and a circus clown outfit. Both SCP-8112-A and the guard are shocked.] Guard: [Whisper] The hell? Dr. Kirby what are you— [Dr. Kirby harshly hushes the guard and hastily shuts the door. SCP-8112-A prolongs a whistle while the guard remains quiet. Dr. Kirby removes the tablecloth. The cart is adorned with all items that SCP-8112 reacted to previously.] [Dr. Kirby hovers a finger over a boombox. Dr. Kirby, though appearing pained, presses play then grabs several items from the cart.] [The song "Hello! Ma Baby'' by Tin Pan Alley plays. Dr. Kirby performs the following actions simultaneously: stomping on an active Tickle Me Elmo doll with his right foot. Juggling a balloon with his left foot, playing tic-tac-toe by with his left hand, and swinging a multicolored-slinky with his right hand while chewing bubble gum.] [The guard removes his helmet, shaking his head. SCP-8112-A snickers. The guard jabs SCP-8112-A in the ribs — the latter becomes quiet.] [The theme song for the Goosebumps TV series (1995) plays; Dr. Kirby drops what he is holding and reaches for new items. Dr. Kirby performs the following actions simultaneously: stomping his right foot in a bowl of mayo, tapping his left foot to the beat of the song, closing his left fist while extending only his middle finger,6 and playing the harmonica. Dr. Kirby reaches towards the cart again with his right hand.] [SCP-8112-A's laughter is cut short when a pie suddenly makes contact with his facial regions. The guard's helmet slides away from his grip. The guard stares at Dr. Kirby, his left eyelid twitching.] [The song "Play That Funky Music" by Wild Cherry plays. Dr. Kirby drops what he is holding and reaches for new items. However, Dr. Kirby accidentally steps onto his own foot, causing him to crash into the cart. The cart's contents spill over; the boombox breaks during the fall. Dr. Kirby cringes in pain.] Dr. Kirby: Goddammit! God… dammit. [Dr. Kirby wipes away his facial make-up, then pulls out an unused cigarette and lighter. He lights the cigarette, breathing the smoke in. The guard rubs the bridge of his nose.] [The guard nods extremely slowly. SCP-8112-A pulls away pie tin and wipes their eyes clean.] Guard: Sir, with all due respect. Are you mental? Dr. Kirby: I'll… get back to you on that. Guard: Okay… so what's that? [The guard gestures towards the cart. Dr. Kirby pulls off the clown wig.] Dr. Kirby: …I tried them individually. Didn't work. So I tried them together. Bottom of the barrel. Guard: …Why? Dr. Kirby: 'Cause I really like my job. Guard: I d-don't even— [Loud smacking noises interrupt the guard. He turns to SCP-8112-A. SCP-8112-A has removed the pie tin from his face and is now consuming its contents. SCP-8112-A turns to the guard confused.] SCP-8112-A: What? Free food. Dr. Kirby: [Strained Whisper] Hmph. And to think I wondered why it chose you. [Dr. Kirby abruptly stands up, emitting a sound between a growl and a groan. He is gripping tightly on his hair.] Dr. Kirby: It's fine. It's fine. I still have more time to make this right. Just need more time. More time… and… a-and… what? [Dr. Kirby notices SCP-8112's arrow is pointed to him instead of SCP-8112-A. Dr. Kirby freezes, then moves to remove SCP-8112 off from SCP-8112-A.] Dr. Kirby: Stand still. SCP-8112-A: Hey! What's the big deal— Dr. Kirby: I said stand still! [Dr. Kirby removes his coat and wears SCP-8112 over his undershirt. He looks down, SCP-8112's arrow is absent from the floor. SCP-8112's arrow is back to normal proportions but is pointed to Dr. Kirby's head. SCP-8112's phrasing reads "I'M STUPID."7] [All three individuals in the room stare at SCP-8112. Twenty seven seconds pass until the SCP-8112-A breaks the silence.] SCP-8112-A: No joke. That shirt looks good on you. [END LOG] . . . . . . . . . . Item #: SCP-8112 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8112 and SCP-8112-A are in joint containment. SCP-8112 cannot be removed from SCP-8112-A under any circumstance. Description: SCP-8112-A is Foundation scientist, Dr. Kirby. SCP-8112 is SCP-8112-A's shirt, which bears the phrase "I'M STUPID ↑'' printed in yellow HTV. SCP-8112's properties manifest when SCP-8112-A removes it fully from their person. SCP-8112's arrow will anomalously extend off the fabric it is plastered on to physically connect to SCP-8112-A. Attempts by SCP-8112-A to cover SCP-8112's phrasing will have the same effect. This connection is never straightforward, as SCP-8112's arrow will always take the most extensive, redundant, and illogical path to reach SCP-8112-A. This effect is instantly negated when SCP-8112-A readorns SCP-8112. SCP-8112-A initially did not possess an anomalous relationship with SCP-8112. However, in the aftermath of their arbitrary and needless experiments performed on SCP-8112, the anomaly refocused its attention from the original SCP-8112-A to them instead.8 As SCP-8112 does not impede SCP-8112-A's duties as long as containment procedures are properly followed, they have been allowed to continue their employment at the Foundation, albeit under supervision. SCP-8112-A complained SCP-8112 significantly hampered their personal lifestyle. Aside from being forced to wash SCP-8112-A while still wearing it, they have claimed personnel have been staring at them and/or made comments about SCP-8112-A's condition at their expense. This has remarkably diluted SCP-8112-A's reputation. As such, SCP-8112-A requested that they would be working from their office for now on. Request was denied, as SCP-8112-A's disciplinary measures were currently active. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8112" by Nickthebrick1, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8112. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Stupid crop.png Name: Stupid crop.png Author: HerAlc, cropped by Stomme License: Public Domain Source Link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Stupid_crop.png Footnotes 1. These procedures are scheduled to be updated pending the results of Addendum-02. 2. Heat transfer Vinyl. 3. Dr. Kirby did not hold this opinion prior to Test 15. 4. The arrow was pointed at the containment apparatus's base, coinciding with SCP-8112's phrasing changing to "I'M WITH USELESS." 5. A sheaf of papers that gives information on how to neutralize other SCP objects. These methods proposed by SCP-2305 tend to fail or backfire in spectacular fashion, usually at the Foundation’s detriment. 6. The middle finger has a simplistic smiley face drawn upon it 7. On closer inspection, an additional sentence was located just above the letter "D." This sentence reads as "(And a gullible mouth-breather too.)" 8. Following loss of interest, the original SCP-8112-A, Bobby Dune, was amnestized and released. |
SCP-8113 | euclid | On 2231/02/29, when returning from a mission, Foundation personnel picked up a weak distress signal broadcast on Foundation emergency frequencies, emanating from a single point below ground. Following confirmation, an exploration team was sent to investigate. Excavation revealed the remains of an underground Foundation facility with external signage designating it as Bio Site-37. Investigations have found that all information on Bio Site-371 was hidden by an unknown authority approximately ███ years prior. An active electrical generator was detected within the Site, providing power to the Site and the broadcasting device. Upon reception and appropriate encoded response, the following audio file played for 7.3 minutes. The following documents are pending review. Refrain from citation or integration with existing databases until further notice. Item #: 8113 Special Containment Procedures: All instances of SCP-8113-1 are to be contained at Bio Site-37, with Stage 1 and 2 instances in Level-4 Biohazard Humanoid Containment Cells and Stage 3 instances in cryogenic stasis. Instances in earlier stages may be contained in cryogenic stasis upon request. Cells may contain up to 4 Stage 1 instances or 2 Stage 2 instances. Stage 1 and 2 SCP-8113-1 instances may request items for personal use to be placed within their containment chamber. All requests must be approved by Bio Site-37 Director and SCP-8113 Research Lead Dr. Kaivalya Veritas. Instances may additionally request contact with a psychiatric specialist. Further action such as the provision of medication must be withheld. Any personnel handling SCP-8113 must adhere to Class-4 Biohazard procedures. Personnel with wounds deeper than their epidermis may not make contact with any surface that has been interacted with by an SCP-8113-1 instance for 48 hours. Individuals found breaching these procedures are to be quarantined for another 48 hours - after this time period, they must be medically assessed before returning to previous duties. If during their time in quarantine the individual shows signs of SCP-8113 infection, they are henceforth to be classified as an SCP-8113-1 instance regardless of previous standing in the Foundation. The purposeful infection of D-Class with SCP-8113 for further research purposes must be explicitly approved by a member of the O5 Council. As SCP-8113-1 instances cannot be reverted back to their original state, containment of SCP-8113 instead focuses on preventing further spread. In the case of an outbreak, Mobile Task Force Beta-7 "Maz Hatters" are to be deployed to the affected location, taking SCP-8113-1 instances into Foundation custody and clearing affected areas of anomalous matter. Following this, deployed Task Force members are to be amnesticized. Description: SCP-8113 is a transmissible symbiont which spreads between humans upon contact of its pollen byproducts with any wound to the dermis or deeper tissue. Hosts of SCP-8113 are designated SCP-8113-1 and exhibit anomalous effects in three stages. Stage 1 occurs immediately upon initial contact and lasts between 3-14 hours depending on the area, depth and location of the site of infection. Speed of progression increases with the host's bodily movement. SCP-8113-1 instances at this stage will not notice any changes. SCP-8113 vines begin to grow beneath the surface of the site of initial contact. In Stage 1 instances, SCP-8113 has an average growth rate of 5cm3/h, with the maximum rate recorded as 18cm3/h in SCP-8113-1-██. It follows a similar growth pattern to the nervous system, forming most prominently around large nerve structures. During this stage, SCP-8113-1 instances may still cease life function. In this case, the SCP-8113 matter within the deceased instance will be rendered inert. The transition from Stage 1 to Stage 2 is considered the point where the vine structure has ceased to actively spread without damage to the SCP-8113-1 instance. At Stage 2, the site of initial contact produces a bud which takes from 1 - 3 days to flower. The inflorescence of SCP-8113 is a compound umbel arrangement, the individual flowers resembling Lycoris albiflora2. The vines themselves match no known species, possessing anomalously high tensile strength and a fibrous composition. SCP-8113-1 instances at this stage no longer distinguish between standard strength and what is known as 'hysterical' strength, often resulting in self-injury. When an SCP-8113-1 instance experiences injury or other dysfunction within bodily systems, SCP-8113 adapts to ensure the instance's optimum health by spreading vines to the affected area. SCP-8113 draws kinetic and thermal energy from both the body and surroundings as required, converting it for use via anomalous means. Stage 3 is reached when upwards of 50% of the SCP-8113-1 instance's body mass is comprised of SCP-8113. By this stage, the mental state of the SCP-8113-1 instance will have deteriorated. Cryogenic stasis is recommended for instances at this stage to prevent further degradation in both mental and physical condition. Upon initial discovery, the Site's life support systems were deactivated. Exploration teams were equipped accordingly. The Site contains three wings adjoined to a central structure, with all architecture, equipment and resources consistent with that of a Foundation facility. An active access terminal is located two meters from the entrance. Exploration teams noted that it appears to have been re-located from a different region within the Site. Along with the Special Containment Procedures and Description documents, the following information was available. UPDATE: 2001/03/16 At 08:03, Agent Alexis Rendira alerted the Foundation that he had become infected with SCP-8113. By this point, Agent Rendira had progressed to Stage 2 and was designated SCP-8113-1-BE. The abrasion it had received during initial contact was determined to be the cause of the infection. It was subsequently transferred to isolation within a Biohazard Humanoid Containment Cell. Initial psychiatric evaluations by Dr. Stoker lacked notable content. BE appears to be satisfied with updated containment procedures, stating the importance of biohazard protocols. It retains the notion that containment, as stated, "is not as bad as it could be," and cites other Mobile Task Force members' experiences when queried. Following further discovery regarding the nature of the anomaly, remaining members of Mobile Task Force Theta-4 "Gardeners" were checked for wounds to their epidermis and released from quarantine. UPDATE: 2002/08/02 At 15:02, numerous containment cells within Bio Site-37 were compromised due to a detonation of larger scope than intended during testing. BE's containment cell sustained significant damage, along with BE itself. Due to the nature of SCP-8113, BE's condition remains stable with approximately 16% of its bodily mass comprised of SCP-8113. Its right arm was severely damaged, resulting in almost complete loss of function. Surgery was performed to remove bone fragments in order to minimize pain and enable SCP-8113 to replace the missing tissue. UPDATE: 2008/12/19 Bio Site-37 experienced a major containment breach of 8 Stage 2, now Stage 3 SCP-8113-1 instances. The instances, which had been contained together whilst the Site was expanded to increase capacity, assaulted security personnel when the door to their containment cell was opened. Involved personnel were forced to retreat when engaged in close-quarters combat to mitigate the spread of the anomaly. At this time, BE was outside of its containment cell with Dr. Wilkinson on a scheduled appointment. After approximately 9 minutes, the SCP-8113-1 instances intercepted BE and Dr. Wilkinson. Dr. Wilkinson successfully incapacitated an SCP-8113-1 instance with her handgun, receiving severe injuries in the process. Due to the damage to her dermis and therefore high likelihood of contamination with SCP-8113, Dr. Wilkinson proceeded to self-terminate. BE utilized her weapon to incapacitate 4 more instances and resorted to hand-to-hand combat to immobilize two others. Security personnel arrived soon after, subduing the last SCP-8113-1 instance with no further incident. Containment procedures have been revised accordingly to mitigate the risks associated with SCP-8113-1 instances acting as a group. Upon accessing the terminal, a site-wide alert was heard over the integrated PA system. This alert consisted of a male voice repeating the phrase "Hello and welcome. Please [UNINTELLIGIBLE] take care of yourself, and seal [UNINTELLIGIBLE]. Thank you in advance!" for 5 minutes. After no further activity was confirmed within the facility, exploration teams proceeded with their mission. 180 outdated cryogenic stasis pods3 are located within the rightmost wing. 129 of these pods remain active, storing anomalous humanoids within. Almost all power from the on-Site generator is rerouted to sustain these systems. All humanoids contained match descriptions of SCP-8113-1 instances in Stage 3 of progression. A single humanoid of the same nature is positioned at the control panel for the stasis pods with a stack of printed documents nearby. Automated transcription processes have commenced. SCP-8113 was originally brought to Foundation attention through local news outlets in 2001. All sources linked the appearance of the anomaly to the rural town of ███████, Nebrask[UNABLE TO TRANSCRIBE] A unit from Mobile Task Force Theta-4 "Gardeners" was dispatched, consisting of Team Lead θ4-Rendira and Team Members θ4-Mero, θ4-Ward, θ4-Davis and θ4-Zion. Their mission was to investigate the SCP-8113-1 instances and locate remaining non-anomalous civilians. [UNABLE TO TRANSCRIBE]ded without incident. Upon further assessment, Mobile Task Force Beta-7 "Maz Hatters" was dispatched to retrieve remaining SCP-8113-1 instances. The town of ███████, Nebraska was incinerated and witnesses amnesticized without incident. 17 Stage 2 instances and 29 Stage 3 instances were transferred to Site-██. The last lightbulb in the hall blew. I cut myself trying to clean the glass up, but hey, mood lighting. CONAINMENT CELL 037.BE: AUDIO LOG BE: Beta-7? Really? Agt. Zion: I know, they- Agt. Mero: -can't touch some dirt without a HAZMAT suit- Agt. Davis: -couldn't even tell their Short's Goldenrod from their Canadian Goldenrod- Zion: -met someone who thought all carnivorous plants are Venus Flytraps- Mero: -ain't got nothing on you. Zion: That's for sure. Pause. Zion: You know, I had a transfer from there once. Zion: The first thing she did after putting her stuff down was wipe down the bedframe. Mero: Ah, well, what can you do. Zion: She kept sanitizing her phone, and put a cap on her toothbrush- Davis: Rana has a cap on her toothbrush. Zion: God forbid a particle gets on it. Mero: It was eight bucks for five on Foundation Amazon, and Ren used Viv's on accident once 'cause they're all the same otherwise- BE: That's supposed to be a secret. Mero: Ah, shit. Pause. Zion: Oh, right, she told me to tell you she's sorry she couldn't come. BE: That's okay. BE: I don't expect her to. Or you, for that matter. Zion: You're going to see so much of me that- BE: No. You've all got your own lives, right? Pause. BE: People transfer all the time. You'll get used to it. Mero: We're still going to come. Davis: Unless we get thrown in a different cell. Shit happens. Mero: Yeah, unless that. Pause. BE: And here I thought all this would help keep my hair black 'till 60. Zion: We'll bring you dye. [UNABLE TO TRANSCRIBE] I think I've finally figured out what all these buttons do. Nobody thought to leave an instruction manual, did they… [UNABLE TO TRANSCRIBE] [UNABLE TO TRANSCRIBE] Dr. Stoker: I believe that you're aware of why I've called you in here. Am I correct? BE: Yeah, you are. Dr. Stoker: Very well. Then- ah, to put it bluntly, as we do, why? Pause. Dr. Stoker: Surely you knew that any self-destructive behavior would make us re-think your privileges. BE: Right. Dr. Stoker: Right. BE: I guess I was just… impulsive. I- I just didn't think, it was more like, 'what if,' you know? Everything's padded around here. These joints long for field work. Dr. Stoker: Go on. BE: I don't know. The bedding here, it's real plush. More than you'd give a lowly agent. And- and I miss cheap polyester, yeah? Dr. Stoker: You requested sheets with a thousand thread count, Alexis. BE: [Laughs.] That- yeah, that was hilarious. Sorry, uh, you can take 'em back, I'm sure Rana'd have the best sleep of her life on those. Apparently whatever washing machine you use 'round here struggles to get rid of splinters. Pause. BE: Sorry. I know you'd have to incinerate them anyway. Biohazard, and all that. Dr. Stoker: Eh, well, it would be pushing it, but- oh, you don't have a copy of the 8113 documentation. Surfaces you touch are only contaminated for 48 hours or so, I think. BE: Hah, that- that's nice to know. Dr. Stoker: [Sighs.] So you were merely… seeking stimulation? That kind of, let's say, exposure to the elements, if I may? BE: Let's go with that. Pause. Dr. Stoker: While it is common for containment to induce a sense of ennui, I must say… I don't believe you. Pause. BE: [Laughs.] Shit, alright. And why is that-? Dr. Stoker: Because your surgery ensured that there would be no sensation in your arm at all. If you did indeed find yourself lacking stimulus, you would cut elsewhere to feel it, and yet you don't. Miserable people in containment are my specialt[UNABLE TO TRANSCRIBE]ow what you are and what you aren't. BE: [Takes a deep breath.] 'Kay. But man, I almost miss running for my life. Dr. Stoker: And? BE: And. Pause. Dr. Stoker: I'm paid by the hour, so I don't mind, but our higher-ups do. Just… tell me the truth, eventually. Pause. BE: I'm tired. Dr. Stoker: I know. I want to help, Alexis. BE: I bet I'm still SCP-8113-1-BE on the logs. Dr. Stoker: [Laughs.] We've cut it to just 'BE'. For brevity. [UNABLE TO TRANSCRIBE] I think it's winter now. Rana's birthday was in winter. They didn't even leave enough to make a decent cake. BE: Enough about me, what news of… the outside world, and all? Zion behaving himself? Mero: He's swamped with paperwork, so he's been kept kinda busy. BE: I suspected he'd be a little pissed that I assigned you after me, is all. No? Mero: Oh, right, about that- uhm, I- BE cuts her off, sighing. BE: You didn't take it. Mero: Ren, I'm sorry. I- you know, I went up there, saw my name as squad leader, and it felt, well, wrong. BE: Go on. Mero: Ugh, it doesn't feel right that I'm the one ranting, and you're just sitting here- BE: Rana. Mero: Yeah? BE: Don't stress. It's actually nice to hear someone else's voice. Mero: Right, right. Pause. Mero: It was just our squad, a simple retrieval mission - and I was supposed to give the brief, but in the end I just gave the papers to Zi… I brought the papers, Ren, I had it all written out, and I couldn't so much as read them. Pause. Mero: Ugh, I'm fogging up the visor. I hate this suit. BE: [Sighs.] Ain't much to see here anyway. Mero: So I just let Zi brief 'em, be- because I'm supposed to keep my emotions out of it, and prioritize and choose who lives and who's walking head-first into it all and be the one who's still alive at the end of things. And- well, that's… that's your job. BE: That's not true. Mero: What? BE: Don't let me be your example. You can be so much more. Don't let me be a model - or a model of the consequences, for that matter. Mero: I… BE: Hm? Mero: Oh, nothing. It's just strange, all of it… you know, with Zi in charge, and Remplis, too- BE: Who? Mero: They didn't tell you? She's… your replacement, Bronwyn Remplis. 'Cause there's supposed to be five of us, so she transferred from a different squad after the other four were KIA. She's a poisons expert. I think you'd like her. BE: Oh. Right. Pause. BE: Is she alright? Taking it well…? Mero: Yeah, yeah. Ward talks with her a lot. Seems he's found a match in identifying exotic species. She's kinda quiet, otherwise, I mean it's hard, but… we're all managing. BE: That's good. Mero: We miss you. BE: [Laughs.] Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. Attempts to remove the humanoid from its place are met with resistance, but never aggression. Unless this is attempted, it remains inert. Personnel are advised to refrain from interaction. A perimeter has been established around the buried Site, and re-containment of possible SCP-8113-1 instances is pending. Further documentation available. Click to view. Hide Latest Revision These documents are pending restriction and removal from databases. Please be advised that in the event that a complete expungement is ruled, amnestics will be administered to all readers of this document regardless of clearance level. Further investigation of the access terminal reveals further documentation which had been previously deleted, but not completely expunged. Numerous files were restored, almost all of them small text files as shown below. UPDATE: 2010/07/31 At 03:12, Researcher Seraina Langley entered the containment cell of SCP-8113-1 instances DT and DU using Dr. Gray Stoker's ID card which had been reported missing until now. She proceeded to purposefully infect herself with SCP-8113. After 7 hours in quarantine, Researcher Langley progressed to Stage 2 of SCP-8113 infection. She has been classified as SCP-8113-1-EL and placed into containment. UPDATE: 2013/02/12 Several documents for transfer to Bio Site-37 have been identified as forgeries, including that of personnel for whom all knowledge of SCP-8113 should have been restricted. A full report including copies of forged documentation may be found in Document 8113.32. Following investigation, all involved have been apprehended, administered targeted Class-C amnestics, and removed from the Site. UPDATE: 2019/08/31 After the discovery of numerous instances of Bio Site-37 personnel experiencing ideation unaligned with Foundation protocols and values, PROCEDURE BRINY DEPTHS has been devised. PROCEDURE BRINY DEPTHS is an AIC-operated screening procedure allowing the potential for undesirable ideation to be identified within personnel and acted on accordingly. It has been proven able to detect the following: Belief in extending life over increasing quality of life Belief in or desire to reach any afterlife which involves immortality as a key feature Capability for or existence of strong emotion regarding a relative or friend with a terminal illness Capability for or existence of strong emotion regarding a relative or friend who is recently deceased Desire for immortality / extended life Pro-natalist ideologies Fear of death It has been determined that all personnel with knowledge of SCP-8113 and/or Bio Site-37 must have passed PROCEDURE BRINY DEPTHS. If the procedure is not cleared with a positive result of a minimum of 95% alignment rate, personnel are to be amnesticized and removed from the premises. Due to the nature of PROCEDURE BRINY DEPTHS, any personnel who clear may not request amnesticization. The following individuals with knowledge of SCP-8113 did not clear the procedure. Name Alignment Rate Dr. Māra Gundersen 38.8% Dr. Aliisa Sauter 09.2% Agent Vivian Ward 71.7% Researcher Trinity Armine 13.9% Junior Researcher Levi Browne 43.0% Dr. Gray Stoker 93.2% Researcher Tonalli Chaudhary 39.4% Agent Juan Fylan 57.2% Agent Punita Parri 10.5% Researcher Ronita Steele 83.1% Researcher Rodrigo Miyajima 46.6% Agent Sílvio Ivers 61.9% Junior Researcher Alojzia Järvinen 20.8% Agent Bilal Acharya 58.1% Agent Rana Mero 71.3% Agent Caleb Zion 85.9% Dr. Harmonia Wong 18.0% Agent Quinn Davis 09.5% Due to the toll that PROCEDURE BRINY DEPTHS takes on Foundation resources, containment procedures have been updated to include the amnesticization of Mobile Task Force members responsible for handling containment breaches external to Bio Site-37. The procedure is only to be used to maintain essential staffing within Bio Site-37, and personnel who have already cleared should be strongly discouraged from transferring from the Site. UPDATE: 2021/09/14 Due to the importance of restriction of information as well as the nature of SCP-8113, a system designed to suppress containment breaches has been installed to mitigate the need for security personnel at Bio Site-37. The system is comprised of two main parts, a control device kept in the center of the Site, and receivers within each SCP-8113-1 instance. The receivers are implanted within SCP-8113 growth in or as close to the abdominal region of the SCP-8113-1 instance as possible. Control of the system is restricted to use by Bio Site-37 Director A. Shao, and any designated second-in-command. UPDATE: 2027/12/31 The AIC assigned to conducting PROCEDURE BRINY DEPTHS has experienced significant degradation in all functions, as well as a loss of efficiency. Attempts at restoration from earlier versions of the file have resulted in almost immediate loss of function. It has instead been replaced. UPDATE: 2033/01/19 On 2033/01/11, Bio Site-37 was assaulted by twenty-five Chaos Insurgency operatives who quickly overran the Site due to the lack of security personnel. The operatives targeted SCP-8113-1 containment cells, breaching the walls with explosive charges and attempting to infect themselves with SCP-8113. The following summarized log has been assembled based on security footage and eyewitness testimony. 05:39: Outer wall4 of Bio Site-37 breached. Site placed into lockdown. 05:42: All assailants have entered the Site, now proceeding directly to the central structure where SCP-8113-1 instances are contained. Four of the group remain behind, preventing personnel present from pursuing the main group. 05:44: Captured onsite personnel are directed to a storage room and guarded. Remaining personnel armed with sonic weaponry5 and issued specialized ear plugs. 05:48: The first of the intruding group reach the entrance to the central structure, beginning to place explosive charges. At this point, all remaining personnel intercept6. 05:50: Intruders are equipped with ear plugs and are unaffected by sonic weaponry. Foundation personnel switch to using physical weapons. 05:51: Central structure breached. 05:53: Central structure overrun. 05:57: SCP-8113-1 containment chambers breached. 06:02: All personnel unaffected by SCP-8113 were provided Class D amnestics for later use, and evacuated as per protocol. 06:00: SCP-8113-1-BE used by Chaos Insurgency members to infect themselves, cuttings taken. BE attempts to incapacitate intruders, subdued. 06:02: Site Director Shao barricades himself and remaining personnel into an adjoining room. 06:06: On-Site explosives detonated, triggering a large-scale avalanche and covering all exits. 06:11: Records of Bio Site-37 expunged. It's for the best. VOTING OPEN: EXPUNGEMENT OF ALL DATA RELATED TO [BIO SITE-37] and [SCP-8113]. WELCOME, 05-13. VERDICT: YES. BIO SITE-37 RE-BURIED. AMNESTICS ADMINISTERED. DISINFORMATION CAMPAIGN AND COVER STORY DOCUMENTATION DISSEMINATED. EXPUNGEMENT COMMENCED. File not found. .. Footnotes 1. Including, but not limited to, location, personnel, and on-site research data. 2. Commonly known as the White Spider Lily. 3. Construction dated to the year 2000 4. Bio Site-37 has only one exposed wall facing northeast, with the rest of the Site underground 5. Used in place of traditional weaponry to avoid wounds to the dermis and epidermis and subsequent susceptibility to SCP-8113 infection. 6. Note that Bio Site-37 has at most, 14 on-site personnel. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8113" by ecthelioffd, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8113. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Name: SCP-8113 Author: ecthelioffd License: CC BY SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8113 |
SCP-8114 | safe | SCP-8114. Item #: SCP-8114 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8114 is stored in a standard containment locker at Site-16. Subjects experimenting with SCP-8114 are to be switched according to the testing researcher's discretion. Description: SCP-8114 is a dumbbell, weighing 2.3 kilograms. SCP-8114 becomes exceedingly light when held by a living subject, returning to its baseline weight upon loss of physical contact. Subjects transform into athletic versions of themselves after exercising with SCP-8114, appearing as highly muscular and lean. Repetition, duration, and intensity of the exercises involved are inconsequential; only correctly performing the exercises is what achieves this effect. This transformation is temporary, as subjects will revert to their original bodies over time.1 Loss of this transformation can be prevented by frequently exercising with SCP-8114. However, if this occurs, the anomaly's secondary property manifests. SCP-8114 will progressively gain and accumulate weight in subsequent uses. In addition to making exercising difficult, this also diminishes the potency of the subject's transformation. If the subject persists, SCP-8114's weight will increase to the point of permanent immobility. This solely affects subjects who triggered its secondary property. Subjects who have not can still manipulate SCP-8114 without issue. History: SCP-8114 came to the Foundation's attention in the aftermath of a wellness check performed on an apartment within ████████, Colorado. The apartment was in a state disarray, with a majority of the rooms being in shambles. The apartment's sole resident, Albert Mayfield, was discovered dead in the living room. The Foundation took over the investigation after details of the case came to light, necessitating the amnestization of all relevant parties. An autopsy revealed that Mr. Mayfield suffered a fatal heart attack. Mr. Mayfield also suffered severe gastrointestinal perforation, caused by the presence of a massive quantity of food in his stomach.2 SCP-8114 was recovered from the living room. A digital camcorder was also found. Attached below is all relevant footage confiscated from the device. SCP-8114/Video.File1 ▶ ACCESS FILE ◀ ▷ CLOSE FILE ◁ [BEGIN LOG] [Mayfield is sitting on a couch. He opens his mouth, pauses, then chuckles.] Mayfield: Sorry. I planned a whole speech, but you know what? Something this special gotta come from the heart. My name's Albert Mayfield. Born in Wyoming, lived in ████████ for a good while now. I'm 26—well technically 27 — my birthday’s coming up soon. It's a brand new year and as you can see… a brand new me. [Mayfield gestures to his body, shirtless and highly muscular. He points at his "ten-pack."] Mayfield: Shocking right? Never thought it would be this… [Mayfield stares at the coffee table. SCP-8114 is present, which he picks up.] Mayfield: Right. Long story short, my health was going downhill. Reeeeeeal bad. Like the problem became so huge I couldn't deny it anymore. [Mayfield stands and approaches a floor mirror near him. He then performs a dumbbell overhead press with SCP-8114.] Mayfield: But following vigorous exercise. [Mayfield performs a tricep extension with SCP-8114.] Mayfield: Strict dieting. [Mayfield performs a bicep curl with SCP-8114.] Mayfield: And immense will-power, I managed to pull myself up, "straight up." Cheesy I know, but the results speak for themselves! The best part? [Mayfield enters the walk-in kitchen in background, pulling a pizza box from the fridge. The waste container is overfilled with disposable food containers. Mayfield sits back down.] Mayfield: I can eat crap like this again! [Mayfield opens the box, pulling out an extra-large slice of a deep dish, meat lover's pizza. He consumes half the slice.] Mayfield: What? You thought I was eating rabbit food all this time? The thing about bodybuilders, they require a lot of calories to keep their body functioning. Same applies to me, the difference being is that I found a way to get the best of both worlds. [Faux Italian Accent] Capiche? [Mayfield chuckles, finishing his slice.] Mayfield: On a separate note, things have really improved back at ████ State.3 I'm making rounds in the sports clubs, I've made friends… [Loud Whisper] I even got a couple of phone numbers. All thanks to this little guy! [Mayfield sets down the pizza box and showcases SCP-8114 to the camera. Mayfield blinks twice as his expression softens.] Mayfield: …A-And the other equipment I got laying around. I'm visiting my family for Spring Break. My folks don't know yet, it's a surprise. I can't wait to see their faces! In fact, that's why I'm redoing my journal again, thought it was appropriate considering the circumstances. Just… want people to know the new me. Mayfield: Anyways, that's the long and short of it. Expect another video, probably soonish. Until then, Mayfield signing out. [Mayfield salutes, still exercising with SCP-8114.] [END LOG] SCP-8114/Video.File2 ▶ ACCESS FILE ◀ ▷ CLOSE FILE ◁ [BEGIN LOG] [Mayfield is sitting on the couch, wearing a sleeveless shirt, He looks at the mirror's reflection. Mayfield caresses his abdomen tightly, scowling before looking at the camera. He smiles.] Mayfield: Hi, guess who? Heh. So big update, a lot has happened since my last video. Remember when I talked about phone numbers? Weeeeell, turns out they were also lottery numbers. And I won. Biggly. Courtney Winters. [Mayfield slaps his knee, laughing loudly.] Mayfield: Can you believe it?! Courtney. Winters. I kid you not! The same chick who kept forgetting my name is texting me non-stop. I can barely keep up! Not that I'm complaining. We had our tenth date last night. Went to a steakhouse. Hella expensive, but you can never put a price on love, right? Mayfield: Sidenote, I'm officially a part of the basketball team now! We got a big game coming up soon. I've heard it's gonna be televised by all the college channels. This may be the ultimate golden opportunity here. If I impress the right people… I might be able to go places. Winters will be there too. Another reason to take this seriously. Best part is, I got it all figured out— [Mayfield caresses his chest in discomfort. He frowns.] Mayfield: —Mostly figured out. Pushing yourself does not come without its consequences. Nothing too bad, it doesn't even hurt most of the time. It's just… [Mayfield's eye twitches again.] Mayfield: Annoying. But it'll pass. Pumping a little iron never hurt anyone— [Mayfield grabs SCP-8114 as he stands. His right arm suddenly and violently jolts forwards. Mayfield falls onto the coffee table, breaking it in half.] Mayfield: Goddammit! Ah… argh…. [Mayfield stumbles out of the room, soon returning with a first aid box and bathroom scale. As Mayfield dresses his wounds, he stares at the table's remains.] Mayfield: [Whisper] So it's getting worse… What the hell is going on? [After applying bandages, Mayfield places SCP-8114 onto the scale. After a moment, Mayfield gasps.] Mayfield: That was not five fucking pounds! Are you even working right?! [Mayfield takes SCP-8114 off the scale and steps on it instead. After a moment, Mayfield's eyes widened. He backs away slowly, eyes trained on the digital display. Mayfield hyperventilates, then scrambles into a hallway.] [A minute passes. Mayfield sprints back into the living room to retrieve SCP-8114. He leaves the area, frantically performing several bicep curls with the object. He appears to be physically struggling.] [END LOG] SCP-8114/Video.File3 ▶ ACCESS FILE ◀ ▷ CLOSE FILE ◁ [BEGIN LOG] [The coffee table is absent, SCP-8114 takes its place. Mayfield sits on the couch, arms folded. He scowls at SCP-8114. The mirror is draped over by a blue blanket.] Mayfield: Yesterday was… not good. [Mayfield rubs his biceps, visibly shaking. He is wearing a large jacket.] Mayfield: The game was fine… at first… but I couldn't keep up. Teammates were mad. Coach was disappointed. We were at neck and neck and I.. [Mayfield huffs, slamming his fist into the couch.] Mayfield: Goddammit. [Mayfield sniffles, approaching the camera to shut it off. Instead, he accidentally knocks over the tripod stand. The camera is now filming on the ground at a tilted angle. Mayfield hisses, pulling at his hair.] Mayfield: Goddammit! [Mayfield snaps his head towards SCP-8114.] Mayfield: You did this… you f-fucking… fucked me! You know that?! [Mayfield kneels in front of SCP-8114, jabbing it multiple times.] Mayfield: I fumbled it on live television! How can I go back after that performance?! What do you have to say for yourself? [SCP-8114 remains stationary, Mayfield leans closer.] Mayfield: It's such a shame you can't talk, because I would love to hear what bullshit excuses you'd come with… you useless piece of shit. We had a good thing going and you had to throw it all away. And for what? Nothing! Literally nothing! I could've left you to rot… I could've left you in the garbage… I decided to take a chance on you… and this is how you repay me?! You— [Mayfield jabs SCP-8114 again with significant force. He pulls his finger away in apparent pain. Mayfield stands up and stomps on SCP-8114 repeatedly, shouting expletives at it. Mayfield movements become slower and disengage from further stomping. He is breathing heavily and is clenching his chest.] Mayfield: Aw… Augh… [Mayfield looks in the mirror. He removes the blanket, removes his jacket, then inspects himself in the mirror. Mayfield's body is no longer muscular and has gained an excess amount of fat. Mayfield shudders and begins to cry. He sits on the ground, SCP-8114 is right behind him.] Mayfield: No. No… t-that's not true. Ivan. I'm sorry. [Sniffle] I-I'm so sorry. I didn't mean any of that. [Coughing] You know how touchy I can be about… this. [Mayfield gestures to his abdomen before covering his eyes.] Mayfield: Ivan… t-the truth is… I'm happy that we met. I wouldn't have gotten this far without you. I know for a fact I wouldn't. Funny how something so great could get mixed up with Legos and rat droppings. [Mayfield softly chuckles before exhaling sharply.] Mayfield: I knew you were special. No dumbbell could be that light. It's silly to think about but I really enjoyed your company. [Mayfield uncovers his eyes. Both eyes are puffy and red.] Mayfield: But for the love of god I don't understand the problem here. I honestly don't! [Coughing.] Are you angry with me? Are you tired? Are your magic reserves low? Whatever it is, y-you can tell me. I'll hear you out. Just give me a sign and I'll do it. Ivan? [Mayfield turns around and tries lifting SCP-8114 with his right hand. SCP-8114 remains stationary.] Mayfield: Ivan, we can still fix this! A simple fix, that's all it is… please? [Mayfield pulls SCP-8114 with both hands. SCP-8114 still remains stationary. Mayfield whimpers.] Mayfield: I just want my body back. [END LOG] SCP-8114/Video.File4 ▶ ACCESS FILE ◀ ▷ CLOSE FILE ◁ [BEGIN LOG] [Mayfield is sitting directly behind SCP-8114, his body is covered by a blue blanket.] Mayfield: I don't know why I'm still making these. [Mayfield grips his right arm, cringing in discomfort.] Mayfield: Winters texted me. "Let's give our relationship a break." She said that, I kid you not. I had a feeling she would. I'm not pissed though. After all, my coach believes I suffered a bad ankle injury even though I didn't. I'm not a hypocrite… not anymore. I'll quit during break. It's not that the spotlight that forced my hand, not entirely. I never fully explained how my health went "downwards," didn't I? [Mayfield pulls away the blanket, he is obese. Mayfield shudders as presses both hands against his distended belly.] Mayfield: I went for a check-up. Was told my BMI was bad, deep red, danger zone. It made sense: The pain. The stress. The symptoms. A recipe for an early grave. The prospect terrified me, so I sought to change it. And I did… but it's not this fantastic story I boasted about earlier. Although was is fantastical. I found a shortcut. [Mayfield strokes SCP-8114 with the back of his hand.] Mayfield: This was the shortcut. I stumbled upon this inside a cardboard box in my uncle's attic. It felt weird to hold so I brought it home with me. That's when it happened. All I did was a single bicep curl — suddenly turned into the next Arnold Schwarzenegger and trust me things spiraled from there. [Mayfield begins to rise up to his feet, he appears to be under tremendous strain.] Mayfield: S-Spiraled to the tippy top, then came crashing down. I can't do anything about the dumbbell now. It's been stuck there on the floor for days. It's too heavy for me to lift anymore. To think I've been living with a cursed object for days, look what it did— [Mayfield turns his head to the kitchen. A large number of trash bags by the waste container. He freezes in place, his clenched fists are now relaxing.] Mayfield: Maybe it wasn't cursed. I doubled down didn't I? How much crap did I even eat? Did I even lose all that weight to begin with? Did I break it by pushing it too hard… or did it cut me off because I don't deserve it anymore? [Mayfield remains, silent, staring at SCP-8114 before shaking his head.] Mayfield: I suppose it doesn't matter at this point. What matters is that I've gotten from red, to black. My body has gotten way worse than I started: I've gotten heavier, this pain keeps shooting up my arm… I felt like I was going to faint when I stood up. My heart's drumming up like mad and I hardly did anything today… I think I'm actually dying. [Mayfield approaches the mirror, observing his reflection.] Mayfield: I've been exercising — real exercise. I've been eating like a mouse… been starving myself a-and… nothing. I've been trying every day and… still… nothing… [Mayfield rubs the wooden rim of the mirror. His eyes are watering.] Mayfield: What the hell do I do now? [END LOG] SCP-8114/Video.File5 ▶ ACCESS FILE ◀ ▷ CLOSE FILE ◁ [BEGIN LOG] [Mayfield is performing a series of jumping jacks in the living room. He appears to be in physical pain. Mayfield stops exercising, he is heavily out of breath. disorientedly, he stands onto the scale. Moments later, he observes the LCD display and backs away in shock.] [Mayfield quickly enters the kitchen, retrieving a pill bottle and various produce from the cabinet and refrigerator respectively. Mayfield then haphazardly inserts both products into a food processor. After it is fully blended, Mayfield pours the liquid into a cup and drinks is.] [Mayfield immediately spits it out, dropping the cup into the sink. Mayfield retches, covering his mouth as he rushes into the hallway.] [Mayfield is performing a set of high knees. He abruptly clutches his chest in pain and falls to the floor. Mayfield gasps and whimpers as he adopts the fetal position. His body shakes at irregular intervals. After an hour has passed, Mayfield no longer appears in pain and rises to his knees.] [Mayfield stops in place. Mayfield looks to see his right hand has bumped into SCP-8114 as he was getting up.] [Mayfield is shuddering, his cheeks are becoming wet.] [Mayfield is sitting on the couch, slouching forwards. The lights have been turned off; the room is now only illuminated through beams of sunlight peering through the window blinds.] [Mayfield is only wearing a pair of underwear. His body is now extremely obese. Mayfield stops staring at SCP-8114, now directing his attention at the mirror. The mirror is covered by a blue blanket.] [Mayfield covers his head, shaking in silence.] [Mayfield is sitting on the couch, covering his face and shaking. His appearance is heavily disheveled, pieces of his hair also appear to be missing. Mayfield suddenly pulls his hands away and screams.] [Mayfield stands up, makes his way to a nearby table and throws a vase that was resting on top of it onto the ground, shattering it. Mayfield then throws several tables at the kitchen's cabinets, significantly damaging them on impact. Mayfield looks at the camera and throws the food processor at it, knocking it over.] [The camera is now on the ground, filming completely sideways. Loud crashing and screaming can still be heard.] [The footage's perspective is sideways. From the positioning on the floor, the living room and kitchen appears to be heavily damaged. Broken furniture and other miscellaneous objects are laying everywhere. The cabinet doors and much of the wall paper have been ripped off. Stains of various colors coat the floor. Mayfield is standing in front of the mirror, now absent of the blue blanket.] [He observes his reflection as he rubs his right thumbs against the glass. He is breathing loudly and slowly. Boils are visible on his chest and back. His body hair is also greasy, Mayfield nods.] [Mayfield gently pushes the mirror backwards, shattering the glass as it makes contact with the floor.] [The footage's perspective is sideways. Mayfield enters the living room, dumping a large collection of trifold brochure menus onto SCP-8114. He pulls out a credit card from his wallet and drops it onto the couch.] [Mayfield takes one of the menus and dials in the number on his cell phone. Mayfield paces around the room. Much of his word are inaudible until he meanders near the camera.] Mayfield: —Yeah, I know it's a lot but we're having a big party here… yeah, I have the cash, don't sweat it… My name's Albert Mayfield… alright, I'll sit tight. Thanks. [Mayfield rips the menu. He picks up another menu and dials in the number.] [The footage's perspective is sideways. Mayfield is sitting cross-legged on the floor, he is surrounded by large piles of foods and dishes. Much of the food is partially eaten or is falling apart onto the rug.] [Mayfield is rapidly sampling various dishes when he suddenly cringes and holds his abdomen in extreme pain. Mayfield hyperventilates, he presses against his abdomen with one hand as he hits the side of his head with the other. Multiple large bald spots are visible on his scalp, caked in dry blood.] [Mayfield's cries diminish as he spots the broken mirror in the background. Mayfield nods as he retrieves a pizza box from the pile, pulling out a slice. Mayfield consumes the slice, whimpering. A massive bruise is present on his abdomen.] [Through great effort, Mayfield finishes the slice and reaches to the box again. Footage abruptly ends as the camcorder runs out of battery life.] [END LOG] Footnotes 1. The exact timeframe for complete bodily reversion is indeterminate and varies between each subject. 2. Notably, the body was in the fetal position at the time of discovery. 3. The university Mr. Mayfield previously attended. |
SCP-8115 | safe | CLASSIFIED BY THE FIRE SUPPRESSION DEPARTMENT If you have accessed this document without FSD authorization, shut down your terminal and remain where you are. We know how to find you. Item#: 8115 Level3 Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8115 is to be locked in a standard containment locker. Monthly check-ups are to be made on SCP-8115 to establish that its quality has not deteriorated. In case of deterioration, a report is to be filed to the physically nearest researcher in charge of SCP-8115. Description: SCP-8115 is a medium-sized hardcover book.1 The cover is ruined to the point where no information can be retrieved from it. If opened, the first person to witness the pages of the book will experience their consciousness relocating to SCP-8115-01. SCP-8115-01 is the realm connected to SCP-8115 and is an anchor point for the memories that the affected individual will see. The realm replicates the initial location the affected individual existed within and eventually de-materializes after SCP-8115-02 has introduced itself. After this, SCP-8115-01 will become a vast and empty desert-like landscape. After a few seconds within SCP-8115-01, a large orb manifests, varying in size. Upon entering the orb, the affected individual will be in a specific memory to which they have a strong emotional connection. SCP-8115-02 is an entity within SCP-8115-01 that manifests as an object the affected person has a close connection with. The entity will introduce itself and act as a guide for affected persons through SCP-8115-01. The entity will attempt to engage in conversation with affected persons for the duration of time in which they are in contact. The effect will cease when the book is closed or the session with SCP-8115-02 is concluded. SCP-8115 can only be used once every approximately 24 hours. Anyone looking at the pages under this duration will be able to read the session as a story. After this, the contents get removed through unknown means. FIRE SUPPRESSION DEPARTMENT CASE ID-8115A Overview Jake Granger is a leading senior researcher in the study of multiple Thaumiel anomalies and has contributed to breakthroughs for their application. His mental health has been deteriorating for a long time, and due to this, his productivity has stagnated to a concerning degree. Now, the FSD considers it imperative to handle the situation so that he is persuaded to work more efficiently. Thus, he will partake in three separate experiments with SCP-8115. To: tni.TENPiCS|regnargekaj#tni.TENPiCS|regnargekaj From: tni.TENPiCS|rotubirtsidtnemngissa#tni.TENPiCS|rotubirtsidtnemngissa Subject: Experiment: SCP-8115 You have been reassigned to SCP-8115 as a test subject. There will be three separate experiments in the next three days. Report down to Sector E, Room E-6, tomorrow at 0900. Access to the following document about SCP-8115 has been granted. ADDENDUM 8115.1 Why did they have to do this so early? I asked myself as I walked down the empty, sterile, and lifeless concrete walls. The lamps on the roof blinded me as I continued past, reminding me of how hostile and devoid of life this place felt. For years I had worked here, and only in the beginning did I not have this feeling. My stomach kept on churning, and a slight pain crept over me. It felt strange that I was re-assigned on such a random notice. I didn't want to protest, though, and besides, it'd probably be stupid to do that. I saw "E-6" inscribed on a door and knocked three times on it. It quickly opened up, and an older man stood in front of me. "So, you're the test subject, right?" he asked as he crossed his arms. "Yeah, that's me." "Come on in." I wandered past the threshold of the door, looking over to a chair that sat in the middle of the room. The man sat in his own chair, and I followed suit. He leaned over towards a camera that stood in the corner, and clicked on it before he spoke. "This is experiment nine of SCP-8115. We are testing to see if anything occurs to the human body during the state of relocation." He paused, and after a short moment, he grabbed onto an old, ruined book and held it before me. "Are you ready?" I quickly breathed in, and stared at the book. "Yes, I am." The man opened the book, and as I looked into it, my body immediately felt as if it had been lifted up into a world of eternal bliss and an unrelenting calm. It was only for a short moment, though, and as this feeling slowly vanished, I looked around to see that the man was sitting in the same place, and so did I, as if nothing happened. "No unusual events are occurring; the subject's consciousness has presumably been relocated." I stood up and waved my hand in front of his face. He only sighed though as he looked down at his lap. I stopped leaning over him, looking around the room instead. It was certainly the same room as before, but it felt different. My body had naturally stopped feeling tense. I breathed out and looked around more. "Who are you?" There was a voice that echoed throughout the room. It was soft and smooth while constantly whispering. I scanned the room, trying to locate where the voice came from whilst responding to its question. "I'm uh… Jake Granger." "Greetings, Jake Granger. For what reason are you here?" "Uh… I don't know." "Let me ask you some questions." "Sure, I guess?" "How are you feeling right now?" "I don't know. I'm not too sure at all." "Did you arrive here voluntarily?" "No, not really." "What is your favorite color?" "What??" There was nothing here except me, this room, and a disembodied voice that wasn't showing itself. A voice that just now asked me what my favorite color is. I shrugged and responded. "I guess, like, Lime?" "Strange, very strange." "Wh- Where are you?" "Hm, it will have to do." A strong gust blew throughout the room, and eventually something small flew down from the roof. There was a shimmer surrounding it until it had reached the bottom of the floor, where it showed itself to be a teddy bear. It stood on the ground for a moment, looking up at me before it spoke. "Pleased to meet you; I will be your caretaker throughout this journey." As the caretaker spoke, everything around us had chipped away. It was as if it had never existed in the first place, and around us was an empty world. A light breeze could be felt and heard as it whirred around us. The ground was hilly and looked like sand, and above me was a darkness filled with blue and green streaks, lighting up the ground and the sky around us. It was like an aurora. Eventually, as I stopped looking up, I saw a large orb, over 9 feet tall. It shone a yellow light upon everything. I was mesmerized by it, but I didn't want to go closer, or maybe I did. "What is this?" I asked the caretaker as we stood there, looking over at it. "It is where your memories reside. Follow me." The guide started flying towards it, and I followed after, slowly and cautiously. Eventually, though, my hand had slowly grasped into the orb, and the rest of me followed after. It was a strange and unnatural feeling, as it enveloped me for only a second until we had reached some other place. The sun was shining around us; children were running around, screaming and laughing. There was a large house next to the children as they ran around the yard. My eyes quickly lit up. I breathed in the air, and I felt how the wind blew on my clothes and how the cut-grass smelled. How delicious all of the food smelled… I stretched as I stood there and then walked towards a table. I rubbed it and felt the distinct feeling of wood. I let out a surprised huh. "Does it not feel strange?" "Yeah… It kind of does." I kept on touching it. For some reason I had become so curious about something as simple as a table. "I assume this to be a celebration of sorts." "Wh-? Oh, yeah, it's a birthday party. It's a celebration of your birth and aging, if you know what that is. I think it's for me." "Do you recall anything about it?" "I'm not sure…" "I understand; memories are easy to forget, more so with time. Nonetheless, we are here for a reason." We stood there and looked around. To see younger me laughing as he ran around while he played tag was sweet. Not only that, but he held onto a small, fluffy, and brown teddy bear with googly eyes and a smile made of some yarn. A small smile grew on my face, and my eyes lit up more. "Time for the cake!" a female voice shouted. She had clear dimples and light brown hair flowing in the wind as she brought a cake to the outside table. It was pretty big and had different animals standing on top of it. For the moment, I had forgotten about all my worries. I felt like a boy who just wanted to have fun, and get a piece of cake for my birthday from my mom. "I take it that it is your mother." "Yes, it is." "Have you conversed with her recently?" My stomach got an uncomfortable feeling as the caretaker asked, and my expression had turned to my regular one. "No. I haven't." "For what reason is that?" "I uh… I don't want to talk about it. Besides, why do you want to know?" "It is in my duty to understand and help. I get nothing from it. But if you wish not to speak of it, then you are not forced to." "I… I'm not sure I want to explain it. So please, not right now." The caretaker didn't pry further, which I appreciated. A part of me didn't trust it. A stranger, a thing I hardly knew of; or maybe I just didn't want to explain it. "Shall we leave this memory?" "Give me one more moment, please; I want to be able to remember this again." I felt the tightness build up more in my chest. I didn't truly want to leave this place. "Of course. Inform me when you are ready to leave." I looked at my parents as they gave me the widest smile they could ever give. It was so long ago that I had talked to any of them, especially my father. We should probably talk more, but it's been difficult. My job has made me forget to do these things, or maybe it was just me. "Now, make a wish!" My mother exclaimed. The younger me closed my eyes and blew out the candles, and after a short moment, my parents gave me a piece of cake. A warmth could be felt within me, and my eyes lit up again as I looked at my parents. We stood there for a good moment until I went out of the memory with the caretaker. ADDENDUM 8115.2 It was the second day of experiments, and I felt slightly better. Yet again, it was the same room, the same person, but not the same time. It was later in the morning, and people were walking to the cafeteria as I was walking the opposite way. I reached E-6, and shortly thereafter, the experiment commenced. The feelings from yesterday took me over again. I sat still for a half a minute, until a strong light went down through the roof, and the caretaker introduced itself again. "Welcome back." The caretaker calmly said. It swung around in the room. "Hello." "I assume you have returned so we can continue?" "I have. It wouldn't hurt to try again, I guess." And yet again, everything around us turned into the same place as last time. The lights were as pretty as they were yesterday, and I couldn't help but gasp. After a moment, there was another light that lit up to the side of us. This time, it was an orb that shimmered blue and was much larger compared to the orb from yesterday. I stood in front of it, breathed in for a long time, before reaching into it with my hand, and after that, I was inside of it. As I looked around, I could see rows of chairs and desks. The lamps from the roof let out a warm and comfortable light that complimented the walls. It felt nice and more relaxed than what I had grown so used to within Foundation walls. A strong wind blew on the outside, and there were students sitting by the desks, whispering to each other while some looked over at a man standing by a podium as he spoke. "What is this?" "This was the old college I went to." "To do what?" "To study- Why do you want to know? Why would something like this be relevant to what we are doing?" "Yet again, it is in my duty to understand and console. I am only your guide, and these are your own memories. I am merely pushing you to speak about them, to remember; should you choose to do so." I let out a loud sigh and started speaking. "I went here to study for my future. In the beginning, I struggled a lot. But after a while though, it got better- like a lot better. I felt more motivated and excited to study. I was making new friends, got invited to things, and I felt happy. I had mostly forgotten how it was, but sometimes it comes back to me. "Memories can easily be forgotten. Though you might think they are gone from your mind, they are hidden, deep inside of you. On a lonely day, or two, you might experience them again, and it was as if you had never forgotten at all." "That thing on the wall over there-" I pointed at the screen projection, showing an organelle, and the caretaker turned around, looking over at it, though it was not focused on the projection. "That is what I studied. Biology. It's the study of living organisms. It is only a part of the subject, but it still is biology." "Do you remember it well?" "Yeah, I remember it well enough." "Was there a reason you studied this?" "Yeah, I had a reason for it. It was something that my parents always taught me, and it was something that became very interesting to me. It even helped me get a job where I am right now. I did a lot of good as well, until my uh… until my mother passed, and then my motivation kind of just vanished. I still kept on working though, just with less energy, or something." What made you stay?" "I don't know. A lot of work still needed to be done, and maybe I felt like I was too far in. And besides, what if something happened and I couldn't find any new jobs? Technically, I didn't even have any experience. You can't tell an interviewer that you worked for a secret organization since you'd have no real proof. You would also, you know, be considered insane." A weak chuckle came out of me, thinking that my remark was funny. The caretaker was silent before it spoke again. "May I once again inquire about what happened to your mother? A frown fell over me. I still didn't really want to answer its question; it felt too personal for me. My voice got quieter as I responded. "I- I don't know… I'm not sure I feel comfortable telling you about it-" "I am aware that I am not a human. I share no emotion, no care, and no judgement for human life or actions. It is for nothing more than my duty, and that is to console and understand. Thus, it is why I am once again inquiring about what happened to your mother." I sighed heavily, rubbing my face as I started to tell the caretaker. "Fine, if you say so. My mother died due to a degenerative nerve disease. It gradually shuts down your nerves over time, and it was terminal for her. I tried to save her, but I was never able to, or maybe I was. I wish I was able to, one way or another." "My condolences about this. But why feel guilt for something that is out of your control?" "I's just… I loved her. I wish I could have saved her." A rupture appeared in the memory, showing me myself as I sat by a desk looking at reports. Another memory showed me sitting by another table, studying anomalies in some hope that it could somehow save her. My endeavors still helped the Foundation- but all they cared about was the research. All I cared about was that I did it for my mom, even if it was all for nothing. "If I only had some more goddamn time…" "The time you had was finite; you did all you could. No matter how much time you devoted to your efforts, it still might've not been possible." "Maybe. It just- It hurts, and I still wish I could've saved her…" "Also, best not to think of other memories in the process of witnessing one, it can ruin this world that I exist within." "I'll try to do that." We had reached down to the man, as he still spoke about organelles. He seemed so passionate about the subject. It was inspiring, in a way, and I felt excited to hear about it. After a moment, there was a phone that rang, and a student stood up and asked if he could take a call. The professor responded with a yes, and I realized that it was me. I ran after myself and followed as the younger me went out of the classroom. "Hey Dad, what's up?" Muffled speaking could be heard on the phone, but I knew what it was about. "Wh… When did she get put into the hospital?" the younger me asked, my hand noticeably shaking. "Yeah, of course. I'll have to ask the teacher," I said, ending the call. Past me opened the door and asked if he could leave class early. A faint "yes" could be heard, and so the younger me packed up and ran out of the school. "This is unfortunate." The caretaker said in a sad tone. My body ached to the point where it became unbearable, and I felt lightheaded. It felt wrong that I had to see this. I didn't want to remember this again. More ruptures appeared in the memory, and it showed my mother and how I saw her become more frail and weak as it got worse and worse and WORSE. Eventually, it was decided that she would get put down. She could barely do anything at the end of it all, but I couldn't believe it; I didn't want to. Maybe if I had more time I could have saved her, and maybe if I tried harder it would actually be possible. But, in the end, there was nothing I could do. It was devastating for me. I felt myself tremble, and soon I crumbled down to the ground. "Thi- This is…" "Do you need a moment?" I could hear it ask, but it felt like my mouth couldn't open up. It was as if it had frozen up. All I could do was mutter out some letters and feel myself crash down. My breathing turned more frantic, and I sat there, curled up into a ball. "Take a few minutes; try to breathe in and out slowly." The caretaker stopped flying and sat down next to me. Its voice echoed weakly throughout the corridors, and made it all feel more empty and void. The wind roared as it struck the building, and it could easily be felt and heard. My body ached on as the dizziness became more unbearable. I tried to stand up, but quickly stopped and sat down on the ground again. Everything was overwhelming me. Yesterday my parents were congratulating me on my birthday and slicing up cake, and now I had to remember when I heard about my mother's illness. It all felt so wrong… "Please, can we leave this memory??? I don't want to be here anymore…" "Yes, we can." The caretaker told me as it flew up into the air again. I gained some strength and stood up, slowly walking after it, my legs wobbling as we went out. Eventually, we reached the outside of the orb, and I felt myself reach down for the ground again, looking over at the orb. ADDENDUM 8115.3 One last time, I thought to myself as I walked towards sector E, room E-6, again. I felt sour, and it felt like my body ached again. It was as if I had returned to dhow I originally felt before all of this. I went into room E-6 and saw that it was the same researcher. Eventually, he opened the book in front of me, and yet again, an indescribable calm fell over me as I went back to the realm of SCP-8115. As with the other times the caretaker went down through the roof and introduced itself. "Hello again, Jake." The guide said to me in a tone that was as emotionless as any other time. I stood there and looked over at them. "Hey." I slightly sneered at the caretaker. "If you are angry due to yesterday, then forgive me. But I cannot dictate what memory is to be shown. I am only here to accompany and help you as you explore your memories." The caretaker had stopped swinging around, staying completely still. "A… Alright, I just- never expected to see that again. Can we go on to the next memory or something???" "Yes, we can." And so, the world unraveled in front of us again. Though I had been here two times before, the beauty of this world was still awe-inspiring, and as I looked around, a new orb could be seen. It was the largest out of the three. Though its shimmer was much more mixed and dull compared to the others. It felt depressing. As we went inside, I saw that we were in the very place I had felt was lifeless for so long. A strong feeling of bitterness struck me. "For what reason are we in this place?? Out of any, and I mean any place, why here???" I flared up at the caretaker. "I have no knowledge of why we are here. Follow me." And I did follow; for some god awful reason I followed. My legs kept on walking after, and I knew that it was me walking, but I didn't truly want to. But we wandered through the sterile and void corridors, our steps echoing out throughout the site. It felt awful. I asked the guide something, just to try and keep my focus on something else. "What's it like to be inside of here?" "I… it is an empty existence. I have seen many things since my beginning. I have seen many tragedies and have seen things that make me wonder. But my duty remains as is." "So, you've helped everyone that has come here to deal with their memories and their past?" "No." "No?" "Not everyone. I don't remember coming here; it is an immortal memory I haven't been able to access. But, eventually, as the souls passed through here, I felt a desire. A desire to help those who came across me and to guide them, changing from my original existence to what is now my purpose. For a long time I laid dormant, waiting for a soul to find me. This gave me time to think, to define my duty." "Jesus, that must've been awful." "It took me a long time to get used to the death of a year, but eventually I grew accustomed to it. When no one came, I only had my own memories to wander through, and there is a lot for me to remember. But, when travelers arrive, these memories vanish, and I try to help the ones that have arrived." "I understand. And have you succeeded?" "I don't know if I have. No one that I have tried to help has returned." Eventually, we had reached an office, or more specifically, my own office. The caretaker flew through the wall, and I followed along reluctantly, my body slowly going through the thick concrete. The office was dark, and it had nothing in it except a small fake plant on my desk, as well as a lamp that stood next to it. The only thing that lit up this room was a computer screen. And sitting in a chair was me, with my face lying on the desk. He groaned as he laid there, his arms lying on the keyboard. A noise could be heard from the computer, and he only turned his head and slightly straightened up to look at what it was. It said. Hello Jake. Unfortunately, we cannot let you take a week off from your job. You are a valuable asset, and your current project can not wait for this long, even if your reason is very understandable. We apologize for this and hope no hard feelings will come across. Human Resources. Past me could be seen as he started sobbing, slamming the table with his fist. The room didn't echo, and yet it felt deafening. "They didn't let me take a week off for a fucking funeral. Apparently, the project I was working on was more important than my own goddamn mother!" Tears fell down my cheek, my hands clenched tightly together. It took at least a month for the funeral to be set up, the response from human resources came fairly early. And yet, I still didn't get to see her last moments above ground. My father had to be there at the funeral without me. I hated the thought of that, and yet I was so complacent with the decision. Why? Why was I so goddamn complacent?? Tears were streaming down more and more as I stood there, and I put my hands to my face, as the tears kept on falling. "I'm sorry to hear about this." I tried to speak clearly, but the sobbing made it difficult. "Almost everything this book has shown me has been just- shitty memories! The only one that made me feel better was the first one. Why the fuck would it do that!?" "The book always has reasons to show these memories. Somewhere in your mind, you must know what this place has done to you. You worked here to try and save your mother, but you never succeeded. The only ones that benefited were the Foundation. This place did not let you see her when she got buried… Why are you still here, working for this place?" "I don't know why! I probably should've left when they told me that I couldn't go to the funeral, but for some sick and goddamn twisted reason I didn't…" Tears had stopped welling out of me, and now I only stood there sniffling, my hands cleaning up the tears that were still on my cheeks. "What have I done to myself? Why have I done this to myself??" "I am unable to give you an answer to that… But I don't think you should be here anymore." "Probably. I'm just… not really sure how I'll come out of this fine." "I do not know this either. But for your own sake, you have to. You have so much to give to this world, and you do not have to spend the rest of your life here, trying to do anything at all." I breathed out, sitting on the table to gain some stability. "Yeah… I'll think of something…" "You have your father as well. He surely misses you." A very faint smile came across me. "He definitely does. Just not sure how he'd react to seeing me after so long." I cleared the tears from underneath my glasses. The room was silent. Past me had stopped crying, or maybe he still was, and I just couldn't hear it. Eventually the caretaker asked. "Shall we leave this place?" "Yes, we probably should." And so we did. We went out of the office, and then we went out of the orb. We looked at each other. "Farewell, Jake Granger." FIRE SUPPRESSION DEPARTMENT CASE ID-8115A Result and assessment SCP-8115 has been deemed partially successful. Though Jake's mental state has worsened further, crucial information has been revealed. If Jake sends in a resignation notice prepare the "Distant Memories" Directive for Jake's father. To: tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj#tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj From: tni.pcs|secruosernamuh#tni.pcs|secruosernamuh Subject: Your Father Hello Jake. We have heard of the tragic news about your father's memory loss and his hospitalization. But we have a proposition. If you stay and work for the Foundation, we will give you a higher position, including higher pay, and we will take care of your father the best we can. We have the best healthcare in the world, as you know, and this could massively help your father. We hope that you will accept the offer, as it would be sad to see you go. Beth, from Human Resources. Secure. Contain. Protect. To: tni.pcs|secruosernamuh#tni.pcs|secruosernamuh From: tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj#tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj Subject: RE: Your Father Hello, I am thankful for the offer, but I am unsure if I want to accept it. If I do accept it, will my father be relocated to a hospital closer to me? I want to know that I can see him and that I will be able to spend more time with him if it gets worse. To: tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj#tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj From: tni.pcs|secruosernamuh#tni.pcs|secruosernamuh Subject: RE: RE: Your Father Yes, if you wish so, then your father can be relocated closer to your assigned site. We could maybe even arrange for him to receive care within the foundation. Beth, from Human Resources. To: tni.pcs|secruosernamuh#tni.pcs|secruosernamuh From: tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj#tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj Subject: RE: RE: RE: Your Father Okay, I see. What would my new position be? To: tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj#tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj From: tni.pcs|secruosernamuh#tni.pcs|secruosernamuh Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Your Fa… Assistant Site Director for your currently assigned site. With this position, you will have more resources available for the projects you desire to do, and you will have more control over the projects as well! To: tni.pcs|secruosernamuh#tni.pcs|secruosernamuh From: tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj#tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE:… I will reach back in a moment. To: tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj#tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj From: tni.pcs|secruosernamuh#tni.pcs|secruosernamuh Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE:… Of course. We will be awaiting your response. Just remember that these benefits won't be found anywhere else! To: tni.pcs|secruosernamuh#tni.pcs|secruosernamuh From: tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj#tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE:… I think I'll accept the offer. To: tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj#tni.pcs|xxetis.regnargj From: tni.pcs|secruosernamuh#tni.pcs|secruosernamuh Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE:… Perfect! Have a good day, Jake Granger. Beth, Human Resources Secure. Contain. Protect FIRE SUPPRESSION DEPARTMENT CASE ID-8115B Result "Distant Memories" Directive was successful. Following amnestic dosage period, swap to Class-A mnestics to reverse memory to acceptable standards. « SCP-8114 | SCP-8115 | SCP-8116 » Footnotes 1. The reason why SCP-8115 is akin to modern-era books is currently unknown, as the age of this book is over 2000 years old. |
SCP-8118 | keter | Special Containment Procedures SCP-8118 is kept within Specialized Containment Site-74, abandoned with the express purpose of housing SCP-8118. All Foundation personnel1 are prohibited from entering SCS-74. In accordance with FLAT BOX2 protocols, SCP-8118 remains unmonitored within the confines of SCS-74. FLAT BOX estimates place an end to containment and anomaly mitigation efforts within the next 15 years. Despite the conventionally unpredictable fluctuations in SCP-8118-related anomalous activity and the high risk of psychological contamination from exposure to the residual anomalous effluence emitted by SCP-8118, the need for monitoring SCP-8118 and its adverse effect on all video recording equipment make it a necessity for a trained individual to enter SCS-74 at least once a year. Due to the high-risk nature of this assignment,3 only one individual may enter at a time. The individual assigned to explore SCS-74, designated Observer,4 must document SCP-8118's anomalous effects within SCS-74 utilizing audio and video equipment provided by FLAT BOX, for a period of four hours. Following this, the Observer must exit the structure at the exit point. Due to the ramifications of allowing an individual to remain within SCP-8118 indefinitely, the Observer is equipped with a portable GIVEN CRY5 device, which they are to activate as a last resort in case exit becomes impossible. In case of activation, an emergency contingent of modified Scranton Reality Anchors are to rapidly increase the Hume levels around SCS-74. The Observer is to be considered lost. Description SCP-8118 is an undefined anomaly that resides within SCS-74. All documentation on SCP-8118 prior to the abandonment of SCS-74 has been lost within the structure, making identification of the anomaly a priority for Observers sent into the building housing it. Due to the hostile terrain on location, as well as severe anomalous energy fluctuations within SCS-74, the information recovered from these assignments is limited at best. Debriefs following every attempt at exploration within the area of influence of SCP-8118 have revealed the following information: SCP-8118 is capable of altering the environments within SCS-74, spontaneously rearranging the internal structure of its environment. Despite this, SCS-74 will generally look similar to other Foundation sites constructed in the late 20th century. The interior of SCS-74 is devoid of natural light, despite the windows visible from the exterior of the structure. Artificial sources of light are noted throughout the site, although the environment remains poorly illuminated at all times. Theories surrounding a negative interaction between natural light and SCP-8118 have been widely accepted within FLAT BOX personnel, and its fundaments are utilized in the inner workings of GIVEN CRY. Doorways and hallways are particularly affected by spatial distortion within SCS-74, with several rooms connecting to their own entrances and exits. Despite this, the internal structure shows no signs of non-Euclidean topology, and the effect has been ascribed to sudden displacement of the Observer in conjunction with rapid changes in the environment. SCP-8118's alterations to the environment have been known to mimic familiar environments and favor certain common elements. This has been used to ascribe a degree of sentience to the anomaly, although this is unconfirmed at this time. Some level of psychic interference occurs as a direct effect of being within the range of SCP-8118's anomalous effect field. Observer subjects have referred to significant auditory and visual hallucinations that persist for the entirety of their assignment, compounded by spatial distortions that accent and accommodate said hallucinations. This has been observed in every exploration to SCP-8118, regardless of Cognitive Resistance Value or mental reinforcement of any kind. One of the few references to SCP-8118 within the Foundation's database that remains uncorrupted stresses the danger in allowing SCP-8118 to come into direct contact with brain matter. Although the significance of this warning remains unclear, the suggested courses of action in case this happens have been deemed severe enough to make this warning a top priority. The deployment of GIVEN CRY was determined to be necessary by the Ethics Committee in order to abide by this warning. Addendum-8118-A Documentation of Observer Assignment 15/02/2024. Audio Log - 15/02/2024 RECORDING START Heavy breathing, accompanied by the sounds of someone running. OBSERVER: Fuck. Silence, save for the sounds of running. OBSERVER: FUCK! Running continues for the next 5 minutes. It stops, with the only sounds now being heavy breathing. OBSERVER: I'm clear, I think. OBSERVER: Saw something move. Human. OBSERVER: Human-like. No clue if it was 8118. How many people have gotten stuck here? OBSERVER: I don't think all of them got to trigger GIVEN CRY. Silence. OBSERVER: Standing in, uh. Room's one big window. Pitch black outside, from where I'm standing. I don't think there's anything past the glass. Footsteps. OBSERVER: Haven't really caught my breath yet. It's all one piece of glass, spherical. There's a loveseat in the middle of the room, which I am not touching with a ten-foot pole. OBSERVER: I don't see any way back out of the room that isn't where I came from, and I'd rather camp out here forever than go back. OBSERVER: It was- It was really a sight, Archie. Whatever I saw, it was eating a corpse. Silence. OBSERVER: The blood was dry, too. It doesn't live off the human flesh. It was showing me. Silence. OBSERVER: I've all but forgotten what the original floor plan was for the site. I think I'm underground. Gut feeling. Silence. OBSERVER: And yet, through the glass, there's only the abyss. Silence. OBSERVER: I'm… Starting to see things, Archie. I think. OBSERVER: There's just- you know how one of your eyes can sometimes see past an obstacle? How sometimes, when you close one eye, your perspective shifts enough to let you see beyond someone's head? OBSERVER: That feeling's followed me all day. Silence. OBSERVER: I don't know where any door leads, in here. I couldn't care less about finding whatever's causing this anymore. I just wanna close my left eye, and see the things hiding in the dark. Silence. OBSERVER: I can see a small spot, you know? Beyond the abyss, through the glass. I didn't think it was real, but as I see it now nothing has ever looked more real. Silence. OBSERVER: A small glimmer. Silence. OBSERVER: Growing slightly closer, too. Silence in the recording for the next 10 minutes. A low hum can be picked up by enhancing the audio quality, although it is imperceptible otherwise. It slowly rises in pitch as time goes on. OBSERVER: Heh. RECORDING END Audio Log - 15/02/2024 RECORDING START OBSERVER: Hold on, I'm calling him. OBSERVER: Archie! You will not believe who I found alive down here! OBSERVER: It's [COGNITOHAZARD REMOVED]! Silence. OBSERVER: Archie? Bud? Silence, interrupted by the sound of metal on concrete. OBSERVER: No I just don't- No I get that, but you know how the Foundation is- man, you don't even know about what's been going on. Ok, hold on, gonna just- Archie, [COGNITOHAZARD REMOVED] is alive, man! You really can't- you're not even gonna check in? Silence, and the sound of bone cracking. OBSERVER: You know [COGNITOHAZARD REMOVED]. I don't get why you'd be such a piece of shit about this. God, he even got 8118! Squelching noises. OBSERVER: Archie, we have it! It's been dying here all along! [COGNITOHAZARD REMOVED] did- what did you do, again? A low hum can be heard in the recording. OBSERVER: Dude, that's, what? Whatever, Archie'll get it. Sorry Arch, he did something to the GIVEN CRY he came in with, roasted the fucker alive. It's great. Squelching noises. OBSERVER: We're standing on top of it right now! We figured it all out! OBSERVER: And you won't fucking answer! Fuck! Squelching noises can be heard in the recording for the following 10 minutes. At the five minute mark, quiet sobs can also be heard. RECORDING END Audio Log - 15/02/2024 RECORDING START The sound of footsteps on a wooden surface are heard in the recording, accompanied by heavy breathing. OBSERVER: Archie, when I get back, remind me to add that there's a potential fire inside the site. I can still feel a bit of smoke inside my lungs. The sound of footsteps stops. The breathing sounds start gradually becoming less labored. OBSERVER: I'm fine here for now, I think. The fire doesn't seem to have spread since I last saw it. A pause. OBSERVER: Come to think of it… OBSERVER: I'm standing, uh. No clue where I am anymore. Wasn't too far from the entrance when the fire started. OBSERVER: I must've been in the room for, what, ten minutes? I couldn't find a way out through the smoke. OBSERVER: That… How did I not pass out? The sound of breathing stops. OBSERVER: Archie, the fire might have not been real. I don't seem to have any problem breathing regularly. Bracelet says O2 saturation is at 98, too. Another pause, interrupted occasionally by the sound of light footsteps. OBSERVER: I'm standing in a small room. Can't be much bigger than a meeting room back at the site. No sign of any exits, though. OBSERVER: There's something propped up against one of the walls. A metal box, the size of a vending machine. Footsteps, followed by the sound of metal scraping against the wooden floor. OBSERVER: Oh. Must've been hollow. OBSERVER: There's an exit through here. Looks like it leads deeper into the site, which must be something SCP-8118 is causing. I should've hit an exit a while ago. OBSERVER: I'm gonna go through, but it'll be a tight fit. The opening seems to lead somewhere, from the lights I can see a ways in, but the passage itself is barely wide enough for me to be able to fit through. Gonna have to- yeah. Lean into it a bit. The sound of footsteps on concrete is heard for the following 5 minutes. OBSERVER: I don't think I'm getting any closer. The light still looks about as far away. Don't know if it's an anomaly or a trick of the light, though. The sound of footsteps on concrete is heard for the following 10 minutes, and abruptly stops. OBSERVER: Fuck. It was an anomaly. OBSERVER: At some point, The opening I came through disappeared. I don't know when, I stopped paying attention barely a couple of minutes ago. It was a couple hundred feet from me every time, too. OBSERVER: I'm gonna stay here for a second. Need to know what to do. The sound of footsteps on concrete is heard for the following 40 minutes. Silence. OBSERVER: I, uh. OBSERVER: I got nothing. OBSERVER: The light does not grow brighter or dimmer no matter what direction I move in. I definitely can't break through the wall, unless I have a sledgehammer in the survival kit y'all sent me. OBSERVER: I think- A pause. OBSERVER: I think I'm gonna use it. The thing. Rustling can be heard, followed by a series of electronic sounds as a device is powered on. A low hum can be heard in the recording. OBSERVER: You know… I don't even know what it does. OBSERVER: I didn't want to know, I think. The guys at briefing told me to turn it on if I knew I wasn't gonna make it. They told me they could explain what the device would do, if I wanted them to. The way they said that was all I needed to know. OBSERVER: They said it was a last resort, but saying it should only be used if I am sure I can't make it back makes me doubt that. A beeping sound. OBSERVER: 'Armed'. Yeah. That's what I'd call something the user could survive. OBSERVER: I don't have any last words. I could've had some, but then I wouldn't be the person being sent here, would I? OBSERVER: Fuck it. Gon- RECORDING END Audio Log - 15/02/2024 RECORDING START The sound of running water can be heard at great volume. Metallic sounds are present throughout the recording, at random intervals. OBSERVER: I'm standing in a tunnel, about, uh, about an hour since I last checked in. I'm not sure why I turned off the recording, but at some [unintelligible] it must've stopped. OBSERVER: The tunnel itself is way too big to be part of a sewer. You could fit about 10 people on the corridor next to the water. No clue where the water is coming from, source must be too far away. A pause. OBSERVER: The water looks contaminated too; milky white. I've seen water like this at some rivers, but nothing quite [unintelligible]. OBSERVER: Gonna keep heading downstream. I don't trust this place. I got too close to something, and my gut tells me this place wasn't exactly here before I entered the site. The sound of running water drowns out all other environmental sounds, although footsteps can be made out at times. OBSERVER: I can't make out any exit. I feel like I'm [unintelligible] underground, but I should've seen some sort of ladder at this point. The sound of running water slowly gains momentum. OBSERVER: Water level's rising. It doesn't [unintelligible] any different, though. The sound of running water continues to grow, and abruptly stops several minutes later. OBSERVER: It stopped. Silence. OBSERVER: Perfectly still now. Silence. OBSERVER: I'm picking up a sample. The sound of a bag hitting the ground, and rummaging. After a few seconds, it stops. OBSERVER: I can see my reflection. OBSERVER: The water is still completely opaque. No source of light anywhere. Rippling sounds. OBSERVER: Like looking into a mirror. It's really quite beautiful. The water, I mean. OBSERVER: .huh, ecafrus dilos a hcuot dna tuo hcaer dluoc uoy ekil leef tsomla uoY RECORDING END Audio Log - 15/02/2024 RECORDING START The hum of machinery can be heard decreasing in volume as the recording equipment moves away from a generator. The sound of footsteps on metal is also present in the recording. OBSERVER: Some sort of- A gust of wind blows through a large empty space. Audio is momentarily lost to the howling. OBSERVER: It spoke, too. The sound of footsteps stops. OBSERVER: Standing in another room now, Archie. Big, open space. Looks a lot like a warehouse; empty, of course. Walls are exposed concrete, floor is still some sort of metal painted bright red. No support beams anywhere, and no exits. OBSERVER: Checking the walls. Found an exit that way a couple rooms back, at the altar. Footsteps resume. Intermittently, the sound of a knock against a wall can be heard. After a period of repetition, the knock suddenly stops. Silence. OBSERVER: The walls are gone. Gone all the way. I'm looking into the room I'm in, from the outside. A single footstep. OBSERVER: I saw myself move, past the wall. I'm… still seeing myself move, in the distance. OBSERVER: Like being caught between two mirrors. They aren't mirrors, of course. I checked. Threw a small metal bearing I brought with me towards the area where the wall used to be. Heard it drop behind me. Staying put until I figure out where to go from here. Silence on the recording, save for shuffling on the floor. After a period of several minutes, a low hum can be heard on the recording, growing slightly louder as time goes on. OBSERVER: Something's coming. The hum continues to increase in volume. OBSERVER: Coming from everywhere. All at once. It's coming from where the walls were, but I can't see- Ah. The hum starts drowning out the recording. OBSERVER: There it is. RECORDING END {$previous-title} ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓ SCP-8724 Footnotes 1. With the exception of individuals cleared by project FLAT BOX personnel. 2. ▓▓▓▓ ▓▓ ▓▓▓▓ ▓▓ ▓▓▓. 3. 6 ▓▓▓▓. 7 ▓▓▓▓. 4. ▓▓▓ ▓▓. 5. ▓▓▓▓▓▓. |
SCP-8119 | safe | Item#: 8119 Level1 Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo Assigned Site Site Director Research Head Assigned Task Force EUITLA Storage Site-77 Shirley Gillespie Ralph Roget N/A Standard Nikon F2 Camera (Left) and SCP-8119 (Right). Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8119 is to be stored in a standard non-hazardous containment locker at Storage Site-77. Access to SCP-8119 is permitted to Level 2 personnel and above for research purposes only. Use of SCP-8119 outside of testing purposes is to be permitted with written and verbal authorisation from Level 4 personnel. Description: SCP-8119 is a Nikon-brand F2 camera of unremarkable design. The object functions similarly to a standard Nikon-brand camera and possesses no abnormal traits or systems. Modified lenses, as well as other attachments, that are compatible with SCP-8119's make and model do not hinder the item's anomalous properties. Under initial observation, SCP-8119 is a standard camera, however when taking an image of an individual, regardless of their facial expression, SCP-8119 will immediately modify the image to represent the photographed individuals' current emotional state. Whether the means of SCP-8119's development/modification has been through means of anomalous technology or telepathic integration is still up for debate. On one occasion, SCP-8119 was disassembled in an attempt to find any anomalous augmentations applied to the item. No such elements were discovered and, when reassembled, SCP-8119 continued to function as normal. Addendum 8119.1: Discovery SCP-8119 was first discovered by the Foundation after several videos on the social media platform YouTube by an account identified as "wyatt|arms#22" displayed SCP-8119's anomalous properties. The user of this account, identified as ██████ Wyatt, an amateur photographer living in ███████, Bedfordshire, UK claimed that they came into possession of SCP-8119 whilst helping clear out his maternal grandmother's attic roughly six months after the passing of his grandfather. In the videos posted by wyatt|arms#22, it displayed SCP-8119 changing the facial expressions of the user's family in the photos. In the first video, titled "I found this weird camera in my Grandpa's attic", the user claims that they took several photos of their family before noticing the visible changes in each image and provided visual proof via printed copies. After gaining the attention of the Foundation via routine analyses by social media crawlers, field operatives were dispatched to investigate. Agents interviewed ██████ Wyatt and his grandmother, posing as producers for a local photography agency and attained SCP-8119 after verification of its anomalous nature. Date: 13/08/2010 Interviewer: Special Agent Irving Dawson Interviewed: ██████ Wyatt [BEGIN LOG] Agent Dawson: Do you know how long your family has had this camera, Mr. Wyatt? Wyatt: No, I don't, sorry. All I know about it is that it was my grandfather's. He had it hidden in his attic in a box of personal stuff. But he must have had it for a while. He was a photographer, professional - I don't know, but the model is from the 1970's, so it must be almost 40 years now. Agent Dawson: Did he ever use it on your family? Wyatt: I don't think so. From what my mother's told me, he ended his career after she turned 8 to be a stay-at-home dad. I've looked through all his photo albums and not seen any that correspond to the image quality of that of a Nikon F2. In fact, he didn't have many photos of my family at all, really. The man had 13 cameras and he never used any of them? Strange guy. Agent Dawson: 13 cameras? Yeah, I can tell your grandfather was committed to his career. Have any of these other cameras exhibited strange qualities such as the Nikon? Wyatt: No, they're all in terrible condition. Keeping them in the attic allowed the moisture of all that horrible mould to corrupt them. He kept the Nikon safe, as if intentionally, but all the others don't work. Agent Dawson: And the camera's properties, what it does when taking a photo, can you elaborate on that? Wyatt: Why? You looking to buy it off me? Agent Dawson: What you are in possession of, Mr. Wyatt, is quite extraordinary. There is no technology like this to ever be integrated into video-capture devices in existence. And we are looking to utilise it. Wyatt: Right, yeah. That's also what I wanted to ask you about as well. Are you offering me a contract? I honestly thought that when you got into contact with me that you had seen my online portfolio and wanted to hire me to join your agency. Agent Dawson: Maybe some other time, Mr. Wyatt, but for now we are interested in the camera. Wyatt: Well, I don't know what to tell you. It was all explained in my recent video about how it changes the expression of those it photographs with how they're truly feeling. At least, that's what I think it does. Most people in my comments section just said that it was a filter I had used, but this model isn't digital, it can't alter images like modern day cameras do. Agent Dawson: Yes, I imagine they didn't make much sense of it, as did you. Wyatt: So, how much are you going to give me for it? Agent Dawson: That's not exactly how this is going to work, Mr. Wyatt. [END LOG] After securing SCP-8119, evaluation of all cameras, albums, photographs and all other relevant factors were recovered from the Wyatt household with none exhibiting additional anomalous traits of interest. The Wyatt family was amnesticized, SCP-8119 was replaced with a replica model, and all media displaying the item's anomalous properties were removed from wyatt|arms#22's account. Addendum 8119.2: Test Logs TEST IDENTIFICATION: 8119-001 Subject/s: Junior Researcher Giovanni Esposito Activity: Sitting at a desk. (Subject had finished a full day's shift.) Visual Analysis: Researcher Esposito was scowling, their eyes diverted from SCP-8119. Test Result: Subject stated they were exhausted and wanted to retire to their dormitory. TEST IDENTIFICATION: 8119-002 Subject/s: Junior Researcher Gustavo Esposito, Dr. Leila Regal Activity: Landscape photograph of subjects together. Visual Analysis: Researcher Esposito and Dr. Regal's faces were neutral, their eyes focused on SCP-8119. Test Result: Subjects stated that they were mildly uncomfortable with how close they were standing next to each other. Notes: "So we know it works on more than one at a time." -Dr. Roget TEST IDENTIFICATION: 8119-003 Subject/s: Portrait of Dr. Alto Clef Activity: Dr. Clef was posing with his shotgun and ukulele, each in either arm. Visual Analysis: No visible change. Test Result: No visible change. Notes: "Okay, so we know SCP-8119 has to be taking a real-time photo of someone in order for its anomalous affects to manifest." -Dr. Roget TEST IDENTIFICATION: 8119-004 Subject/s: D-5103 Activity: Recreational Activity in D-Class Ward-C. Visual Analysis: Subject was visibly paranoid and expressed panic in their eyes. Test Result: Psychological evaluation with D-5103 revealed they were highly schizophrenic despite having no former history of such a condition. Note: "Are all D-Class always so on edge? I mean, I know their purpose and what they experience, but this is no way to live." -Dr. Roget Test Identification: 8119-005 Subject/s: D-5103, D-5104, D-5105, Chief of Security Parisa Parker Activity: Landscape photograph of all subjects together. Visual Analysis: All D-Classes were visibly frightened, their eyes glancing back at Parker. Parker was visibly disgusted, her eyes glancing over each D-Class. Test Result: All subjects refused to elaborate on their visible expressions. Notes: "Further investigation revealed that Parker was abusing her authority when handling and escorting D-Class personnel at Site-77. She has since been removed from her position." -Asst. Dir. of Personnel Wade Quincy "Interesting, had we not tested SCP-8119 on this particular group, these actions probably would have never come to light. I propose the use of SCP-8119 for interrogation purposes." -Dr. Regal Cross-tests on SCP-8119 with other anomalies have been prohibited until we have more information into how this thing works and what we're going to do with it. Remember, we study and contain anomalies, but don't abuse their power for our own personal interests and gain. -Dr. Roget Addendum 8119.3: Recovered Note The following is a note recovered from the Wyatt household after field operatives gained possession of SCP-8119. The nature of this note is believed to have been addressed to ██████ Wyatt's maternal grandfather, the original owner of the camera. Dearest Lauchlan, It is a shame you have decided to leave us. Your passion and expression of the way you see our world has been more than eye-opening, dare I say. But life moves on and the only way through it is forward and I, for one, can respect your decision. Fatherhood, a gift not suited for all of us but one I assure was made for someone like you. I still insist that your work go on, however. You have a gift, one that needs to be shared more with the world. But because I can understand that young Clarice is now your world, I insist that you take this camera, specially modified for you to share our passion with her and her children. The world is changing so fast. In the old days if you wanted to prove you were there to witness something amazing you had to snap a picture of it. But those who do not appreciate our view of the world have resulted to manipulating what we see in images now. "The Camera doesn't lie", that's what they say and yet what both they and we didn't realise was that we already manipulate our realities, even with cameras. It is standard protocol to smile when one takes a photo, but that doesn't mean you are happy in that picture. We are told to look our best in photos because that is our reality, but reality is the truth, and what many perceive as the truth is an illusion. Take dear Simone. She was so happy those last few months and then she was gone. If only we knew what really was hiding behind those smiles. That's why my last gift to you, and Clarice, is the truth. And isn't that cool? -Kondraki ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8119" by ClaudeHinton, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8119. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Author: Minya S License: CC BY 4.0 Source Link: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/31/Nikon_F_Cameras.jpg |
SCP-8120 | safe | Ralliston's entry in the SCP-8000 Contest. ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} Item#: 8120 Level5 Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: amida Risk Class: notice link to memo The location of SCP-8120-B, approximated from PoI-8120's notes, depicted alongside relevant locations. Assigned Site Site Director Research Heads Assigned Task Force Site-01 O5-1 O5-4 and O5-8 Alpha-1 ("Red Right Hand") Special Containment Procedures: In spite of standard procedures, information regarding PoI-8120 must be handled in accordance with data protected by the O5 Council Identity Protection Protocol. Specific instructions regarding SCP-8120's execution are to be limited solely to the O5 Council. All instances of SCP-8120-A inside Foundation custody are to be stored at Site-01 and the private estates of House Hadfield. The exact list of documented pieces that make up the SCP-8120-A collection is to be limited to RAISA Director Maria Jones, the Directors of the Archeology and History Departments, and the O5 Council. As SCP-8120-B is effectively inaccessible without the prior utilization of both SCP-8120 and SCP-8120-A and is incapable of otherwise interacting with baseline reality, its containment has been deemed unnecessary. SCP-8120-A-37, the Jade Eye of Daevon. Description: SCP-8120 refers to a ritual devised and created by Lord Arthur Hadfield,1 a 19th-century occultist of British descent and the former director of Her Majesty's Foundation for the Secure Containment of the Paranormal. According to Hadfield's notes, when utilized correctly, SCP-8120 would allow the user to journey into the Rotten Core — his term for SCP-8120-B — by spiritually pointing a seabound user in its direction and allowing them to enter the location. Due to the specific requirements either placed upon the ritual by Hadfield or inherent to the thaumaturgy required to utilize it, the only individuals who are capable of performing SCP-8120 are those "born from the wretched seed." SCP-8120-A is a collection of 169 artifacts of occult significance of differing composition, make, and origin, all gathered together by PoI-8120 throughout the 19th century. According to his notes, Hadfield had created the collection with a single goal in mind: the performance of SCP-8120. All of the objects that make up SCP-8120-A were carefully chosen to properly interact with and fully contain the energy released by an execution of SCP-8120. Such an act would allow any individual to channel said energy to guide them to their destination and access the intended location. SCP-8120-B is a currently inaccessible extradimensional location referred to as the Rotten Core by PoI-8120. Due to its characteristics, there is little that can be said about SCP-8120-B with certainty. However, all records that describe the location agree on one thing: it is said to house2 a weapon capable of eliminating PoI-001-C ("Queen Mab").3 Addendum 8120-1: Discovery and History . PoI-8120 Personnel File PoI-8120, circa 1858. Portrait taken from private possessions. Biography: Born in 1802 as the only son of Charles Hadfield, PoI-8120 was the sole inheritor of House Hadfield. The Hadfields had always been close occult allies of the crown, eventually forming Her Majesty's Foundation for the Secure Containment of the Paranormal following the Fifth Occult War. Their position did not only come from their vast library of occult knowledge — it came from their bloodline, forever cursed to birth only reality benders. The word "curse" is used loosely here — whether or not the effect actually is a curse or merely a coincidence remains unclear. Reality-bending skills are not a trait that can be passed down genetically, and highly detailed studies of Hadfield blood do not indicate the presence of any curse within. Whatever the truth, the fact of the matter is that for as long as their ancestors had access to the written word, the Hadfields had always solely birthed reality benders as their kin. Hadfield soon grew hateful of this condition. He bore heavily conservative beliefs, considering himself a radical of an anti-anomalous nature. This mindset allowed the HMFSCP to truly prosper during his time as its director, but also made him forever disdain himself and his kin. Though he had planned not to father children, planning to "not spread the wretch further," pressure from the British crown resulted in his marriage to Elizabeth Hadfield, who soon bore him two children. One girl and one boy, both twins — but only one of them a reality bender. This revelation sparked a new fire of motivation inside Hadfield's heart, who began to devote more and more of his life to searching for a cure for his family's curse. Eventually however he grew to realize that he was incapable of curing his condition. He then decided that if he was incapable of getting true justice, he would settle for the poetic kind, instead choosing to re-enact vengeance on who he perceived to be the most powerful reality bender and the source of the ontokinetic "taint" upon humanity: Queen Mab. For over twenty years, from every corner of the occult world, Hadfield gathered what eventually became SCP-8120-A, utilizing various grimoires to create his plans for SCP-8120. He would eventually attempt the ritual in 1863, failing to breach into his intended destination. Following his failure, Hadfield grew weak and sickly in both mind and body, quickly losing his stamina and sanity over his inability to fulfill what he perceived to be the goal of his life. Though he was initially supposed to join the two pre-normalcy organizations under him — the HMFSCP and the Commission on Unusual Cargo — into the fledgling SCP Foundation, he would not live to see the organization fully form. Instead, he passed his intended Overseer position to his two children, who gained the positions of O5-4 and O5-8 respectively. Hours before his passing on 15/01/1869, Hadfield wrote the following: Break the chain. Break the chain, and bind the world. The intended meaning and recipient of this message remain unknown. The first documents regarding SCP-8120 were recovered by Foundation personnel during its formation in 1870 from the archives of the now-defunct HMFSCP. Said documents, mostly authored by PoI-8120 himself, provided a clear image of what SCP-8120, SCP-8120-A, and SCP-8120-B were. As the Foundation had formed with the specific goal of opposing Queen Mab, the documents quickly became of great importance to the organization, leading to the discovery that SCP-8120 could only be performed every 66 years. Hadfield's notes are not clear on the reason for this. Vague mentions of "proper stars guiding one forward" are as specific as he gets. The Foundation first attempted to carry out SCP-8120 in 1929, but met a fate similar to that of Hadfield, encountering an unbreachable obstacle during the performance of the ritual. The source of this failure only became clear in 1962, following several major breakthroughs in the field of thaumaturgy made following the discovery and study of the thaumic energies present inside the city of SCP-7600. Utilizing the knowledge of what mistakes to not commit again, and vastly larger resources, the O5 Council decided to re-attempt the ritual when it once again becomes viable. Addendum 8120-2: Initial Exploration and Entry into SCP-8120-B For Project DEICIDE — as the SCP-8120 project was named, by personal request of O5-8 — to not fail again, the Foundation required several pieces of previously absent equipment. Chief among them was a seabound vessel, stable enough to safely carry its crew to SCP-8120-B and withstand the thaumic energies of SCP-8120. For this purpose, the O5 Council commissioned the creation of SCPS Ultimatum: a Site-184-crafted vessel, assembled via the utilization of various paratechnologies and thaumaturgic workings. The vessel and its crew were additionally equipped with thaumaturgic workings that, when utilized, would aportate the vessel/user right back into Site-01 for the safety of the Overseers. SCPS Ultimatum. As Hadfield's notes specified that the SCP-8120-B point can only be accessed if the vessel began its journey from the north, Site-184 was similarly chosen as the Ultimatum's launching point. Seeing how O5-4 and O5-8 were not only previously involved in several past projects of a related nature but were also the only still-living individuals who carried PoI-8120's legacy — and with it, the ability to carry out the ritual — they were chosen for the captain(s) and project leads. They were to be accompanied by their personal divisions of Mobile Task Force Alpha-1 ("Red Right Hand"), which would operate the vessel and protect the Overseers from any potential dangers, aiding them in containing and transporting whatever may lie within SCP-8120-B back to Site-01. SCPS Ultimatum would begin its journey towards SCP-8120-B on 01/05/1995 — the next available date for successful execution of SCP-8120. Date: 01/05/1995 Subject: SCP-8120-B Parties Present: O5-4, O5-8, Mobile Task Force Alpha-1 ("Red Right Hand") Foreword: This log — as well as the remaining logs pertaining to Project DEICIDE — were personally recorded and transcribed by O5-4 and O5-8. Due to this — as well as the fact the SCP-8120 file was written by them solely for the Overseer Council's internal viewing — incoming personnel should remain aware that the language used therein is not representative of the Foundation's standard archival protocols at large and may contain several passages and techniques that are discouraged by the RAISA editorial guide. [BEGIN LOG] The log opens to O5-4, O5-8, and several Alpha-1 personnel standing in the bridge of the Ultimatum. Outside the room there is only the night sky, occasionally broken up by a few loose stars. Eight is near one of the walls, her arms crossed. Four remains in the center of the scene, standing a few meters away from the group. Gathered around him is the entirety of the SCP-8120-A collection, spread out in accordance with PoI-8120's original notes, which he holds in one of his hands. In his other, raised palm, he is holding SCP-8120-A-94, the Blade of Dusk. His eyes remain fixated on the camera before him. O5-4, circa 1904. O5-4: This is Overseer Four speaking. SCPS Ultimatum is ready for launch. <Pause> SCP-8120 will become viable in twenty seconds. Do I have permission to begin? He looks at one of the computer screens inside the room. After ten seconds, it lights up with a characteristic ping — Overwatch Command has answered with a positive. Four nods, and closes his eyes. The moment midnight strikes, he inhales, puts down the documents he is holding in his hand, and places them on the floor. He then raises the knife and — whispering a few words in an ancient language long since forgotten — cuts the palm of his right hand. For a few seconds, nothing happens. When the first drops of blood finally fall down below him, a great light erupts from several of the artifacts. More of his ichor keeps dripping at various pieces as he reconfigures his arm to taint several chalices, gemstones, and rings. The light starts to change colors. After thirty seconds, the tenth drop of blood falls from Four's palm — and the moment it reaches SCP-8120-A-8, the Atlas of Samsara, a scarlet flower blooms on the floor around him. It is an ethereal structure, almost invisible to the naked eye. It grows and encompasses the Overseer, until its roots reach his now-sealed hand, forcing it to close. The moment he does this, the crimson plant withers off and dies, scattering particles of invisible dust around the Overseer. When Four opens his palm again, the wound is no longer there — instead, etched upon his hand is now a compass, writ with dried-up blood and ancient runes. Its needle is pointing southeast. Four smiles, and looks at the Alpha-1 personnel gathered around him. In the background, Eight grins. O5-4: Let's finish this. [EXTRATENIOUS DATA REMOVED FOR BREVITY] In the distance, the first lights of a dawning sun can be seen illuminating the raging sea around the Ultimatum. The vessel is soaring through the waves at great speeds, its thaumic engines propelling it forward, almost entirely ignorant of the water's resistance. Four and Eight are standing aboard the ship, fully exposed to both the heat of a new day and the water that splashes aboard the vessel. They remain unbothered by either. The compass upon Four's palm is pointing fully south, now. Next to his side, a member of Alpha-1 is standing. Atop her helmet is a camera, focused on the Overseer's hand and broadcasting the live movements of the compass to the ship's crew. But neither Four nor Eight pay attention to the operative; instead, they remain focused on an old journal Four is holding. It has once belonged to Hadfield Senior. From the looks on their faces, this is the first time either of his kids is gazing upon its pages. Eight crosses her arms, and scratches her chin. O5-8, circa 1940. O5-8: So. How's it feel to be back on the open sea again, old man? Eight gently punches Four in the arm. Both smile. O5-4: Pretty good. He takes a moment to appreciate the breeze around him. O5-4: At least there's no pirates this time around. Or dead monsters to carry through half the world. Eight sighs, amused. O5-8: I'm fairly certain my clothes still smell of them. Both laugh. Eight turns to look at Four. O5-8: What do you think we can expect? When we get there, I mean. Four raises an eyebrow. O5-4: In general, or…? O5-8: Yeah. What have you got? I read the briefs, but… Eight leans on the barrier before her. O5-8: I want to know what you think. Four exhales slowly. O5-4: Well. I don't think we're actually going to find a miracle weapon there, if that's what you're asking. But whatever's on that island… O5-8: …is well worth the effort, yeah. <Pause> Did you consider multiple meanings? Four raises an eyebrow. O5-8: Remember the Vemhoff fiasco a few years back? I mean like that. Are you sure the word used is an actual weapon and not, I don't know— Eight throws her hands in the air. O5-8: —another bloody tomb? Four considers. O5-4: The exact wording varies. Some say it's a weapon to kill her. Others talk of a device to supplant her. It's— Eight narrows her eyes. O5-8: Supplant? O5-4: It's the closest analog I've got. It's a word that means to literally defeat someone and take their vassals. My point is — yes, I've considered all the angles. I still think it's worth it, even if it turns out to be nothing more than some old tablets. Both for academic and personal reasons. <Pause> Maybe this'll finally put him to rest. Eight sighs. Four tightens his grip on the journal. O5-8: Yeah. For a few seconds, neither Overseer speaks. They just gaze upon the horizon, its dawning sun, and the breeze blowing past them. From an angle, they seem almost content to be there — as if this was their true calling. Not the paperwork, not the administration, but being here and now, enduring against the unknown, almost like equals. O5-8: Any obstacles, you think? What do your journals say might stand between us and the thing, once we breach into -B? Four rubs his chin. O5-4: Nothing specific. All sources mention three trials awaiting inside: the trial of mind, the trial of strength, and the trial of endurance. What that actually means, your guess is as good as mine. <Pause> He left no notes on the subject. He couldn't have. Eight skews her head. O5-8: Trials? What for? O5-4: Once again, I have no decisive answers, but my guess is they're just there to see if the pretender is worthy enough of the prize. If they are there at all, that is. We'll find out soon enough. For a faint moment, Eight's eyes flash purple.4 O5-8: In that case, I think I've got strength covered. As for mind— She taps Four on the head. He smiles faintly, too. O5-8: —I'd say we're also good on that front. Four looks out into the horizon, again. O5-4: And we've done nothing but endure, ever since he's… His words get lost in the wind around them. O5-8: Yeah. Another silent moment. Somewhere in the distance, a few Alpha-1 personnel exchange words. Neither Four nor Eight notices. O5-8: For what it's worth, I think he'd appreciate it. I doubt he's watching, but I'm sure the old bastard would love to see what's inside, too. He'd smile if he saw us finally plunge a dagger into Mab's heart. Four smiles again. This time, though, there is a tint of sadness present inside the gesture. O5-4: I'm sure he would. [EXTRATENIOUS DATA REMOVED FOR BREVITY] Eight and Four are back inside the vessel's bridge, brought into its protection by the storm now raging outside the room. Winds of great speed and thunder reign outside the cabin, the air regularly split by a downpour so great that discerning where the water ends and the Ultimatum begins is exceedingly difficult. Still, in spite of the conditions, the Vessel endures, ever striding forward towards its destination: a glowing point on the horizon, its pulsating light visible despite the weather. It is levitating a few kilometers in the distance and ten meters above the waters of the violent ocean. The compass on Four's hand is burning brightly with a crimson hue, its needle fixated on the point before it. His whole arm is shaking — whether with anticipation or due to the thaumic strain of the ritual being so close to its terminus remains unclear. Recorded camera footage. Four turns to the Alpha-1 personnel managing the vessel. O5-4: How much longer until impact?! A member of the Task Force checks the control panels before them. The ontokinetic scanners and akiva disruption markers are all bordering on intelligible, their reads visibly affected by the spacial disruption in front of the ship. Still, a device triangulating the remaining distance based on the compass' thaumic flux provides them with a clear answer. Alpha-1-4-27: Two minutes, sir! Breach is unavoidable! It's pulling us in! Four grins, and whispers a few words to himself that get lost in the storm that is engulfing the Ultimatum. Eight eyes him, but doesn't say anything. Instead, she just grabs the pole next to her tighter. Her eyes are visibly purple, now, and she is looking at the disruption before them. O5-4: Good. Through the rain and thunder, for a brief moment the breach becomes visible: it is now a large pillar of light, pulling the waves and raindrops towards it, almost as if it were an ontokinetic vortex. It is burning too bright to make out what is on the other side but — from the readings inside the Ultimatum's bridge — it is clear that the breach is a doorway. Beckoned by both the breach's pull and its own engines, the vessel draws ever closer, one of its sides visibly struggling to stay stable. The compass on Four's hand is now exploding with a scarlet light so great it is illuminating the bridge whole, its runes almost moving atop his palm. The dried-up blood escapes his hand and starts dancing around it, almost as if in anticipation of SCP-8120-B. Four yelps, visibly strained by the exercise, but remains in his position. Alpha-1-4-27: T-minus thirty seconds! Four's hand once again starts bleeding, the ichor levitating around his arm, then his head, then his legs. It forms circles of incomprehensible runes orbiting the Overseer as they move to the rhythm of his heart beating. For a moment, it almost looks like Four is about to lose his consciousness. Eight starts to walk towards him, ready to offer help, but a quick gesture of Four's unoccupied hand sends her back to her pole. It's as clear that he can withstand this. He has to. Alpha-1-4-27: Five! Four's eyes shoot to the back of his head. Alpha-1-4-27: Three! He lets out a yelp, punches the floor, and closes his fists. The blood around him crescendoes in its dance as it turns black. Alpha-1-4-27: Impact imminent! As the Ultimatum breaches right into SCP-8120-B, a great flash of light fills the bridge, blinding both the cameras and the people present inside the room. For almost half a minute, the visuals remain unreadable. Overwatch Command: Overseers Four and Eight. Report? When they emerge into visibility once more, the storm has vanished. Four is now back on his feet, and though he is coughing he appears to be in a relatively stable condition. The blood from the ritual is back inside him, now in normal colors. He is breathing heavily, but otherwise suffers no ill symptoms. He is looking out beyond the vessel's bridge. The look in his eyes is one of wonder. Eight — as well as the remaining Alpha-1 personnel — shares his reaction. Recorded camera footage. Eight turns to face the microphone, and clears her throat. O5-8: We made it. [END LOG] Closing Statement: Though they were reprimanded for risking O5-4's health with such prolonged exposure to SCP-8120's effects upon his body, by an O5 Council vote of 6-2-2, the Project DEICIDE team was granted permission to continue on their journey. Addendum 8120-3: Further SCP-8120-B Exploration Date: [UNKNOWN] Subject: SCP-8120-B Parties Present: O5-4, O5-8, Mobile Task Force Alpha-1 ("Red Right Hand") Foreword: Due to the irregularities affecting the day and night cycle of SCP-8120-B, it is impossible to ascertain its relationship with baseline time flow; as such, for the remainder of the SCP-8120-B exploration logs, Overseers Four and Eight have decided to omit the date from the documentation altogether. [BEGIN LOG] Four, Eight, and several Alpha-1 personnel are standing outside the Ultimatum's bridge, on the ship's deck. Before them a great sea stands, its colors vibrating with sparks of magic. Scattered around the water are small islands, rocks almost, growing thick with vegetation in spite of their isolation. They are untouched by man. The sky above SCP-8120-B is similarly vibrant with magic. Great threads of color — similar to aurora borealis — soar through the heavens, mixing in with the clouds all around them. Beyond them, a single, faint star shines brightly, illuminating the world below it with a vague but colorful light. It isn't stagnant — it appears to be experiencing its cycle much more quickly than the baseline Sun, quickly falling down the sky in spite of normal timeflow. It looks like dusk is about to arrive within minutes. Four comes closer to the edge of the ship, leaning in against the barrier at the vessel's prowl. For a second, it almost looks like he is about to smile. Eight blinks twice, but quickly regains composure. She turns to face the Alpha-1 members gathered around her, then points to one of the small islands. O5-8: Get me those rocks and whatever's causing them to behave this way. EVE readings, age approximations — I want to know everything there is to know about them. The personnel nod, and quickly walk towards the ship's bridge, ready to send out the research drones and analyze their surroundings. Those Alpha-1 members who remain by the side of the Overseers start to map out the area around them, marking down several things on the forms now in their hands. Eight walks towards Four. She smiles faintly. O5-8: Not what you expected? Four shakes his head. O5-4: I… I don't know. Perhaps. With how it was described, I just thought it'd be… O5-8: …more organized? Me too. If there's one thing Mab likes, it's rigid structures. At that, Four chuckles. O5-8: But I'm not complaining. At least there are no genocidal mages this time around. Four crosses his arms. O5-4: I wouldn't be so sure just yet. Recorded camera footage. In the distance, the sun has finally fallen. In its place rise two moons, one orbiting the other. Their movement is similarly quickened. Next to them, from the night sky emerge stars, all pulsating with the same strange, colorful light. The constellations they form are similar to those that can be seen in baseline reality — in some places, however, there are more of them. In others, there are less. Four looks upon them with wonder in his eyes. O5-4: Remarkable. O5-8: What is? O5-4: This whole place, it's… it's frozen in time. It's a perfect image of what the Earth used to be, when Mab still ruled over it. Or at least very shortly after she fell. O5-8: What makes you think that? Four points to the stars, then the moons. O5-4: See those? I've seen that image more times than I could count. You saw it too, back in Druv'tuul. Above the royal palace. <pause> The design is etched all throughout the ruins of the Empire. The Sacred Starmap. Mab— Eight clears her throat. O5-8: Right, but… where's the first obstacle? The trial, I mean. We breached right into -B. Where do we go from here? What do we do? O5-4: I'm not certain. It has… Four looks around them. There is nothing but more of the same islands, scattered all throughout the sea up until the horizon. From the place they are right now, it is impossible to make out where the archipelago actually ends —or if it ends at all. O5-4: …has to be somewhere. Otherwise— Four squints, then looks up at the sky. For a moment, he considers. Then he clears his throat, and looks at one of the Alpha-1 personnel. O5-4: Get me an aerial view. I need… I need to see something. In the distance, one of the drones starts its ascent high up above the Ultimatum and the islands that surround it. O5-8: What if this is a maze? One we need to navigate through to get to the trials— O5-4: No. This is the trial. The first one. If we can't manage to realize what to do… Eight considers for a moment. O5-8: …then we aren't worthy enough to get to the treasure. Right. But how the hell are we actually supposed to— An Alpha-1 member comes up to Four, holding out a Foundation tablet. He takes it, and starts clicking through the provided image. O5-4: That's what I'm trying to figure out. The image displayed is that of the archipelago, seen from high up above in two dimensions. Four toggles one of the options, changing the display to show the EVE readings through the islands. They are all equally charged with magic, unchanging and stagnant in their readings — a feat normally unachievable under baseline conditions. Four furrows his brows, then switches the image to a temperature read. Then to one of the geological makeup. All of them show the same results — the islands are all identically unremarkable. Even the ocean below is the same, fully bereft of any life. Four sighs, and puts down the tablet on a crate before him. O5-4: I don't know. He looks up at the sky, which is once again entering daytime, and sighs again. O5-4: If only h— Four squints, looking at the few stars still remaining in the sky. A realization passes through his face. O5-4: Oh my. Four grabs the tablet, and pulls up the image again. He turns all of the filters off, leaving only the physical picture of the islands from above, and then rotates the image 73 degrees counterclockwise. O5-4: Oh my. Both a smile and relief goes down his face. O5-8: What's going on? Four taps the screen. O5-4: This isn't an archipelago. It's a starmap. A perfect recreation of the night sky above it as once seen from the Earth, with islands instead of stars. Four points at the night sky. O5-4: They are the same thing, just from different angles. Four zooms onto one of the areas pictured before him. He taps the screen again. O5-4: And it's meant to take us to the one place the starmap led, during the times of the Empire — to the royal capital. Eight blows our air, and starts to shout at the Alpha-1 personnel to once again ready the vessel for movement. She and Four start to move closer to the bridge. O5-8: So how do we actually get there? Four picks up one of the artifacts that make up the SCP-8120-A collection. He grins. O5-4: We get a sextant. [EXTRATENIOUS DATA REMOVED FOR BREVITY] SCP-8120-A-85, der Weg des Weltalls. The Overseers are once again standing at the prowl of the ship. In his hand, Four is holding SCP-8120-A-85, der Weg des Weltalls. In his other, he is tightly clutching the journals of PoI-8120. Four is wearing a headset, one that directly informs the Alpha-1 members stationed on the bridge of his exact words. He turns to face Eight. O5-4: This is one of the first things he taught me. The way to the royal capital. He thought it would make me interested in his work. Eight scoffs. In the distance, the Ultimatum readies its engines, beginning to slowly move forward. O5-4: We even named the stars that have since gone out. I think I can still remember— Four gazes upon the sky, pointing to specific bodies with his unoccupied hand. He clears his throat, and the vessel picks up its speed. O5-4: "A is for Avalon, its stories so bright—" He points to a different star. O5-4: "B is for Babylon, its laws with life right—" Another star. By now, the ship is almost nearing its destination. O5-4: "C is for Chūgoku, the heart of the East—" Another. Four is smiling widely, now. O5-4: "D is for Daevon, its—" Eight clears her throat. O5-8: Right. We get the picture. Four puts down the sextant, slight disappointment — and perhaps slight embarrassment — present in his face. For a few moments, the Overseers remain silent as the Ultimatum finally reaches its destination. The area is entirely unremarkable. It's just more water surrounded by islands identical to any other inside SCP-8120-B. Still, the moment the vessel actually stops in its middle, something changes in the atmosphere. The pressure falls down, and a strange silence engulfs the ship. Four nods, takes a slow breath, and opens up Hadfield's journal. His voice is little more than a whisper. O5-4: "And oh pilgrims, you who wish to gaze upon the Starlight's true might — fall down before your destiny with faith in your heart, and submit your souls whole. Gaze upon that which you wish to inherit. Show humility and let the gates of your kingdom open to your wretched kind." Four falls down on his knees. Eight eyes him, but does the same, though with much less enthusiasm. The remaining Alpha-1 members follow their example. The second the last member touches the ground, something stirs in the ocean. A great burst of both color and magic encompasses the ship. A monumental tide starts to form in the distance, heading right for the vessel, around which the waters start to move with unrest. Eight almost stands up, trying to notify the others about its approach. Four just calms her down with his hand. O5-4: Leave it be. The tide falls down upon the kneeling Ultimatum, with enough force to topple the ship, break its stability, and turn it upside down. Four closes his eyes, as does Eight. But the ship doesn't turn upside down, doesn't sink beneath the waves of SCP-8120-B; instead, as a white glimmer encompasses it whole, the vessel and its crew find themselves no longer on the sea. They are now located in a gigantic cave, with the Ultimatum buried in the sand and rock. The ship is stable enough to let the crew exit onto the floor of the cave, but is too surrounded to begin to move. Four and Eight open their eyes, and sigh in relief. O5-8: I suppose that bastard's ramblings have finally done some good for the world. Four turns to look at her, something akin to held-back anger boiling inside him. O5-4: Don't… Don't say that. Eight scoffs. O5-8: Why not? He never held back his truth. He never held back his thoughts. Why should I? Four furrows his brows. O5-4: Because he was our father. And because this is about his legacy. O5-8: No? It's about killing Mab, in case you don't remember what you yourself wrote down. And I'm sorry I'm not the favorite child, but I am ready to say that he was an absent, heartless— Suddenly, Four's voice falls very silent. O5-4: Abi. Don't. Eight stops. O5-4: Not for him. For me. Shout your truths when we get back. Not here. Not now. <pause> For us. Eight furrows her brows and crosses her hands, but complies. Still, there is resentment in the motion and pity and disappointment for her brother. O5-8: All right. Eight pauses, and looks out at the cave beyond the Ultimatum. She too starts to speak very quietly. O5-8: Let's go. [END LOG] Closing Statement: As further usage of the SCPS Ultimatum was deemed to be unnecessary, Project DEICIDE personnel were instructed to leave the vessel be and continue on their journey on foot, as per the direct request of Overwatch Command. They complied without objections. Date: [UNKNOWN] Subject: SCP-8120-B Parties Present: O5-4, O5-8, Mobile Task Force Alpha-1 ("Red Right Hand") Foreword: Due to the fractured and partitioned nature of the SCP-8120-B exploration, for research purposes it was decided that each part should be its own log within the SCP-8120 documentation, instead of folding all of the recorded material into a singular, continuous log. To access the unedited version of the recordings, contact RAISA Director Maria Jones. [BEGIN LOG] Four, Eight, and the Alpha-1 personnel are standing outside the Ultimatum. The vessel is sunken behind them, its prowl buried deep in the rock that now surrounds them whole. The cave is large, but not anomalously so — its walls are smooth, with no real formations or protrusions decorating them. The floor is also similarly barren — it consists of little more than rock and sand, both crushed together under the heavy boots of the Red Right Hand personnel that have taken the lead. Recorded camera footage. The way before the team opens to reveal a singular corridor leading out of the grotto, a natural hallway that gets narrower with each meter passed. The entire formation looks as if once there might've been an actual underground river running here, with the cave where the Ultimatum lies futile having been some sort of lake. Either way, none of the DEICIDE personnel pay this fact any mind. The two Overseers remain close, but there is a distance between them, now. One neither would admit if confronted about it, but one that is definitely there. Now they continue in silence, Four checking his notes and Eight checking her scan results. Both are little more than excuses for themselves and each other. Not for the first time, the siblings are accomplices in a crime neither is willing to admit is there. After a few minutes, the team arrives at the corridor's terminus, a two-by-two-meter flat wall that ends the hallway's narrowing and their way forward. Etched atop it are runes, with a pictogram of a hand right in its middle. The fingers depicted are slightly longer than those of a human. The team stops in their tracks. Four squints his eyes at the letters, and looks back at Hadfield's journal. He clears his throat. O5-4: "So bring forward your might and vigor whole, oh heirs to eternity; carry that which you wish to inherit; grab the Weight by its heart and prove that you are worthy to carry your world upon your shoulders." Eight crosses her arms. O5-8: Guess we found strength, then. Four nods. O5-4: <quietly:> Aye. Four eyes the written runes once more. He exhales sharply. O5-4: You're being asked to… ah… literally create a tunnel forward and then hold it up as we cross through it. He looks at Eight. His eyes once more show compassion; even if fainter than during the beginning of their journey, it is there again. He takes a slow breath. O5-4: You sure you can do this? Eight rolls up her sleeves and grins. The gesture isn't sincere. O5-8: Not a chance a cave is what's going to beat me, old man. I've got this. She puts her hand in the indicated area, and exhales sharply. Her eyes start to glow purple. O5-8: Let's go. Eight pulls all of her strength into her arms, and the tunnel opens before them. It isn't large — merely two-by-two meters — but it's enough for all personnel to begin their march forward. Eight is leading her companions, both of her hands now propping up the ceiling. From her fingertips emerge loose strands of ontokinetic power, violet bursts that hold up that tremendous weight above her through the sheer power of her will and illuminate their way forward with their colors. Eight is clearly struggling, but manages to go forward, always there to open the tunnel further when the rest of the team needs her to. They continue like that for a few minutes. After a while, a sudden shift occurs in the rocks around them — they begin to glow with blue, iridescent lights. Without any prompt from any of the personnel, the stones slowly shift from their solid form into a semi-liquid state that doesn't stop moving until it forms a very clear and vivid picture: that of a large dining hall with a long, wooden table, its details escaping whatever memory this comes from. Started at the table is a figure reminiscent of the young Arthur Hadfield. Before him sit two men, father and son. Though never stated, it is clear to all observers those are the Siegels, Aaron and Edmund. They are engaged in a passionate discussion with Hadfield, presumably over whatever artifact they have lying before them. On the other far side of the table, a small girl in a dress two sizes too big is eating her dinner. She is clearly struggling with using the knife, but doesn't say anything. She knows better than to interrupt her father. She lets out a sudden yelp of pain. There is blood coming from her finger. Nothing major, a wound inflicted by a dull knife meant to cut potatoes — still, it brings her to tears. Hadfield doesn't notice. After a moment, the pain gets the better of her. She stands up from her chair. Girl: Dad… Dad— Sir? Sir. Please. She walks up to her father, but her voice is barely more than a whisper. It gets drowned out in the conversation before her. Girl: Please. When nobody notices still, the girl closes her eyes. There is a slight purple spark under her eyelids, and her finger is healed. When she opens them up again, Hadfield is looking furiously at her. There is disgust and disappointment plastered all over his face. He grabs her by her arm. Hadfield: What did I tell you about— As Hadfield raises his right hand, the scene fades away. Four blinks twice, trying to get the shock out of his face. Eight doesn't say anything. Within a moment, she realizes what the Weight she has to carry actually is. She just swallows hard and continues her march forward. The rocks shift once more, this time revealing a small chamber, someone's bedroom maybe; it is all too trashed to really make out. There are shelves fallen and items thrown and broken all around it, littering every part of the room, almost as if a hurricane had gone through it just moments prior. In its center stands Hadfield again, his face twisted in fury and resentment. Before him stands a young woman, only just having entered her adulthood. Her eyes are burning purple. There are tears going down them, and she is clenching her fists. She is looking directly at Hadfield, nothing but pure rage plastered all over her unmoving body. She is shivering. Woman: You're the worst person I've ever known. You and mother should have never— A brief spark of purple goes over Hadfield's eyes, too. He quickly throws it away. Hadfield: You will not speak that way about— The woman scoffs. In the background, a closet falls over, breaking the floor. Neither of the figures present notice it. Woman: Or what? You'll lock me up in my chambers again? To do your research for you while you and John— Hadfield: I have already told you. You will not destroy our family name with your condition. You will not be seen like this in public. Not until you get it under control. Woman: What if I don't want to? Ever thought about that, oh great lord, oh sir Hadfield? What if I'll remain your little family freak? Hadfield looks her dead in the eye. He opens his mouth, but before he lets out his words, he takes a deep breath, and calms himself down. When he starts to speak moments later, his voice is very quiet. Hadfield: I wish you could've been born normal. Maybe then you would have understood. As the woman starts to openly weep, the chandelier crashes from the ceiling. The memory fades, and Eight is trembling now, her eyes closed shut. Still, she doesn't stop. She cannot fall. She will not fall. A third scene, this time of a lonely tombstone, standing still in a cemetery amongst rain. The words upon it read: Elizabeth Hadfield. Everything aside from that name has been long blurred out of the memory. Only the pain and the name remain. Before the tombstone stand two figures, both adults of equal age, one of them a man, the other one a woman. The man is holding an umbrella in one hand and an old journal in the other. He is inhaling slowly, his eyes fixated on the words before him. For the first time since becoming an historian, he is incapable of believing the written record. The woman next to him is standing openly in the rain. Her dress is dirty with mud and there are tears going down her cheeks, but she doesn't notice either. There is place for a third figure next to the woman, one that should be there — one that should be there more than anyone has ever needed to be anywhere — but one that remains absent. There is just a person-shaped hole instead, a terrible unaddressed silence that lies between the brother and the sister. But the woman stares into that void, fury deep in her eyes. She isn't looking at the final resting place before her. The pain caused by the absence of the one who is still there, still buried in his studies in spite of everything, runs far deeper than the pain caused by the absence of the one who has long since passed away. All that remains are unsaid words, to both of the people who aren't there. The woman looks up, opening her eyes to the rain above her, awaiting absolution the weather should offer. It doesn't come. It never will. Eight lets out a sudden yelp, almost slipping up, but is immediately propped back up by Four. Still, the moment their hands touch, she shudders and throws him away. She continues the march alone. It is a journey she has to retake on her own. Nobody else can help her carry her cross. As Eight takes one of the final steps forward, the rocks reveal the final memory: an old Hadfield lying sick in a bed, his health and mind long since gone. He is surrounded by his artifacts and notes, the SCP-8120-A pieces scattered all over his room. Though he should remain in bed, he is constantly attempting to get out; get out to his studies so that he can finish his work. In spite of everything, a young woman is sitting next to him, trying to calm him down. She gives him water to drink. Hadfield: John. John. J-John. Woman: Shh, dad. It's okay. It's Abigail. I'm here. John isn't with us, remember? He sailed off to Daevon, just like you two had always wanted. He will be back soon, but now it's just me. It's Abigal. And it's going to be all right. Hadfield shakes his head, and groans with visible pain. He looks his daughter deep in the eyes. His own are foggy. Almost nothing of the powerful occultist remains beneath those irises. Hadfield: No. No. John. Not you. John. John. I need… I need to… to speak to John. To John. Woman: But— Hadfield grabs her by her hand, his withered fingers barely able to maintain their grip. Hadfield: We have to finish the work! We have to! We… We can't…. can't do it with you… your… your taint. Hadfield lies back down. Hadfield: Get… Get me John. The woman stands up, and covers her mouth with her hand. She just walks out of the room. She will never walk into it again. As Eight walks out of the tunnel — the final member of the team to walk past its terminus — it collapses before her with a dull thud. Eight's eyes are closed, and she remains silent. Four comes closer, and tries to help her stand back up. She throws his hand away. O5-8: Don't touch me! Just… Just leave me. Just leave me. She stands up on her own accord, refusing to look her brother in his eyes. O5-4: Abi, I… I didn't… When she finally does look at him, there is nothing but pain in the gesture. O5-8: You did. All of you did. You, mom, everyone. He didn't love you because you were his son. She pauses, and takes a shuddering breath. O5-8: He loved you because you weren't his daughter. For a moment, neither speaks; they just look out before themselves, to the small spiral staircase engraved in the walls of the cave, its stairs leading upwards, towards their final challenge. It is very narrow, only fitting one person at a time. One of the Alpha-1 personnel takes the lead and starts the ascent. O5-8: But none of that matters now. I've long since learned to live with it. Eight starts to walk forward. She does not turn to look back at Four. O5-8: Let's just get this over with. Maybe this'll finally put him to rest. [END LOG] Closing Statement: Though originally there were plans for Site-01 oneiromancers and medical staff to attempt to research the validity of the events that were presented above, all such projects were immediately shut down by the office of O5-8. Date: [UNKNOWN] Subject: SCP-8120-B Parties Present: O5-4, O5-8, Mobile Task Force Alpha-1 ("Red Right Hand") Foreword: Once again, due to the nature of the log transcribed below, its full validity cannot be confirmed; for the purposes of SCP-8120 documentation, however, it was decided that the written records of O5-4 and O5-8 are more than satisfactory. [BEGIN LOG] Four and Eight are standing on top of the staircase they have just ascended. Before them is a short corridor — a connector between the stairs and the next room, its walls covered in vines and overgrown bricks. There is an occasional rune or sentence engraved upon them. As the Overseers come forward, a few Alpha-1 members join them. Four squints at the walls, and compares the writings to those written down in Hadfield's journal. He clears his throat, and looks at Eight. She does not look back at him. O5-4: This is it. The final challenge. Eight looks down at her feet. Her voice is quiet. O5-8: And what does it want from us? O5-4: Hard to say, really. I… He clears his throat. O5-4: "Face yourself, and take up your crown." Huh. Eight smiles very faintly. O5-8: At least the treasure's a physical object. Better than nothing. O5-4: I suppose so. Four takes the first step forward. The moment he is capable of seeing inside the next chamber, he and the camera get blinded by sunlight. When he's capable of seeing again, the room is revealed to be circular, very large, and extremely tall. It doesn't have a ceiling, instead opening up to broad daylight, the very tops of its walls overgrown by the flora found on the islands inside SCP-8120-B. The walls themselves start as solid, brick barriers, only to gradually wither away and turn into rocks as the chamber gets higher. At the bottom, a few pillars stand, most of them broken. On the other side of the chamber stand two heavy stone doors. The gate is shut. In the center of the room is a small circular platform, elevated half a meter above the floor. It is empty. All around the room's perimeter stand similar platforms. Atop them sit what looks like parts of humanoid sculptures of several origins and makes. They are singular body parts and they are all made from different materials. Some platforms display hands, other arms, other legs and torsos, other even heads. The only similarity between the pieces is that all of them appear hacked away, as if they were forcefully taken from whatever figures they originated from. The floor of the chamber is wholly smooth, appearing artificially flattened. No plant life decorates it. Scattered all throughout it are several bones, only some of them human. They are covered with dust, their color long having been bleached out by the sunlight above. The moment Four notices this, he stops in his tracks. He holds up his hand and shows others to also cease movement. O5-4: Wait. There's— Without hesitation, Eight steps forward and into the room, heading right for the central platform. Before Four can give her a heavy look, something in the chamber's atmosphere changes. There is a sudden shift in the air and light. It makes Eight stop again and look around herself. There is worry in her eyes. A strange glow suddenly encompasses all of the platforms — including the one in the middle — and the body parts displayed upon them start to move as if they were alive. Each in its own way, the sculptures begin to crawl towards the center of the chamber, their movements grotesque and shuddering. Neither Overseer moves, simply observing what is transpiring before them with both confusion and unease. The Alpha-1 personnel ready their guns, pointing their weapons at the platform in the middle. The moment the body parts get to the central platform, they begin to merge. It is a crude process, one that starts to chip away at the pieces when they bash together, but it is quick. Before either Overseer can blink, the parts assemble themselves to form a humanoid figure, roughly three meters tall. It is facing the opposite of the team. Another shift in the atmosphere runs through the room, and the statue shivers, then comes to life. With a slow and shuddering movement, it turns back to look directly at the group. It looks like Arthur Hadfield. But it isn't Arthur Hadfield, it cannot be. More direct observation of the figure swiftly reveals the faults in its design — its limbs are all deformed, some too long and some too short; its fingers are crooked and asymmetrical and of too great a count; its posture is too straight, too stiff to really be human; its skin is visibly made from various metals and stones; and its eyes glow with a terrible purple. It looks like a parody of the actual human form. And yet, in spite of everything, to the two Overseers cowering before the giant figure, it still looks like Arthur Hadfield. And it is alive. For a moment, it just stands there, observing the unmoving group from a distance. Then, a slow grimace starts to creep into its mouth. [UNKNOWN]: Ah. So you've finally made it. Its voice is rough; it sounds like stones moving against stones, only barely resembling the speech of the real, late Hadfield. It echoes through the great hall all the same. The figure first looks at Eight. [UNKNOWN]: I should have known you'd come here sooner or later, no matter my hopes, but you? It glances at Four. [UNKNOWN]: To let her come with you here? To risk our legacy like that for something like Abigail? The being shakes its head. [UNKNOWN]: I'm disappointed in you, John. Both Overseers are frozen, fully incapable of action. O5-8: You're dead. I saw you die. Her voice is barely more than a whisper. O5-8: You… You died. The being furrows its brows. [UNKNOWN]: You've never been as bright as you thought you were, child. It was my mistake believing I could fix that. The being takes a step forward towards the Overseers, leaving its platform and descending upon the floor. Its movements are erratic, spasmic almost. [UNKNOWN]: No matter now. I'll deal with you appropriately. As for you— It turns to face Four again. [UNKNOWN]: We'll talk when this is over. We still have work to do, John. A family to rebuild. The being continues its walk, its eyes fully purple, and a great wind starts to rise all around the room. It starts slow only to turn into a hurricane after just a few seconds, loose strands and bolts of magic flying all around it. It encompasses the figure and the team, slowly pulling the latter towards the former as the storm begins shrinking its radius. Simultaneously, all Alpha-1 personnel begin to fire at the entity. Their bullets have no effect — the being doesn't even seem to notice them or the personnel themselves. It just extends its hand towards Eight, its elongated fingers reaching for their pretend-daughter, as a grim determination enters the figure's face. But Eight isn't Eight — not anymore. She is now no longer Overseer Eight of the SCP Foundation, the Heretic, supreme chief of all occult research. She is once again Abigail Elizabeth Hadfield, a young and heartbroken woman, and she falls to her knees. In over a century of her duty, she's handled demons beyond her comprehension, but before the worst monster of them all, she is incapable of doing anything. A few meters to their right, Four stands similarly frozen. He is shaking, his knuckles turning white from tightening a panicked grip on the journals of his father, but he is still capable of remaining in his posture. He hasn't become John Hadfield again just yet, but he can feel the old fear crawling back onto his spine. He knows he doesn't want to disappoint his father. He— He closes his eyes, and shivers whole. There is a terrible realization that comes to be made in his mind, an impossible choice he knows he has to make. But when he opens them again, he knows what he has to do. He looks directly at the thing pretending to be his father, and grits his teeth. O5-4: No. You will not do that. His voice is strong and confident, now. His expression forms into cold fury. The being slowly turns back to look at Four, the Alpha-1 bullets — now augmented with thaumic runes to pierce any armor — flying off its skin like they aren't even there. Its face is twisted in disbelief. [UNKNOWN]: What did you say? Four stands his ground, in spite of the wind closing in on him. He isn't backing down. O5-4: You heard me. You will not do that. I won't let you. The being scoffs. [UNKNOWN]: Careful now, boy. Just because you're not her doesn't mean you're irreplaceable. Four takes a step forward, closer towards the being. He turns to look at Eight. O5-4: Abigail? Abigail! Stand up. Stand up and face this… this thing. Face it with me. He extends his hand towards his sister. The being just laughs. [UNKNOWN]: You think you can just do that? After all those years? It shakes its head. [UNKNOWN]: No, John. Your path has already been written. The path of our family has already been written. You will not jeopardize it. You will help me make it a reality. Four doesn't turn to face the entity. He just keeps looking at Eight. O5-4: Abigail! Abi! I need you, I— [UNKNOWN]: Just like she's always needed you, John. And where were you? The being changes its stance — it is now facing Four, leaving Eight behind itself. She still doesn't move, but the being does — it begins its slow walk towards Four. [UNKNOWN]: Yes, you were where you were meant to be. By my side, John. With me. With your legacy. Come now. It extends a hand to the Overseer. The hurricane is barely big enough to contain all three figures. [UNKNOWN]: Come now, and let us fix this mess. It still isn't too late. Four looks down and whispers something, inaudible to both the camera and the entity. It comes a bit closer. [UNKNOWN]: What was that? Rapidly, Four looks right back up, into the being's cold, marble eyes. O5-4: I said — fuck you. A great tension suddenly overcomes all of his muscles, like the thing he is about to do is an impossible feat. But it is clear he has already made his decision. O5-4: Fuck you, and fuck your legacy. Something in the being's face changes, and for a single second, it loses its focus. The purple in its eyes dies down for a split moment. It almost backs off from Four, disgust and anger plastered all over it. It no longer has a son. In the back, though, its daughter once again rises up, now no longer bound by the creature's spell. Eight grins, and walks up towards Four, standing to face the thing before them together. Purple sparks start to run through her veins and fingertips. From an angle, it almost looks as if the being had grown smaller. The thing looks at the two Overseers and sneers. [UNKNOWN]: Look at yourselves. How dare you stand here, against me? You are nothing without me. It's barely noticeable, but its voice seems to have fallen quieter. It points at Eight. [UNKNOWN]: I should have given you the mercy of the sea when I still had the chance. Given you back to the tides so you may have at least died with some dignity. Now look at you. Less than nothing. It almost spits. It turns to face Four. [UNKNOWN]: You don't deserve my blood. But for as long as it runs through your wretched veins, you are mine, bastards. You are all mine and you will obey. You were born Hadfields, so if you are to live as Hadfields, you will listen and carry our legacy into— Neither Overseer says anything; instead, Four just passes Eight the notes of the late Arthur Hadfield, his entire life carefully inscribed upon those pages, everything he had ever stood for reduced to nothing but words. Eight clutches them tightly, and closes her eyes. She begins whispering something in a toungue nobody but can her understand. O5-4: No. His voice is clear and calm. O5-4: Your legacy is dead. And so are the Hadfields. The journal start to levitate above Eight's palm. Iridescent runes surround it whole. O5-4: You made sure of that yourself. As a light erupts from the notes, a purple spark sets them aflame and a rune starts to glow on the foreheads of the Overseers and the being. It is a word in ancient Fae — one that means "family." Or "binds." Eight shouts something that gets lost in the wind, and the runes explode, burning the journals. There is a sudden shift in the atmosphere, and as something stirs in the souls of the Overseers, they both grab their heads. When they blink, their eyes burn with purple. In the distance, the sound of a chain snapping can be heard, and a name is lost on the breeze around it. A great shriek goes through the room, and the figure grabs itself by its head. Through its face a crack is starting to form, one that grows bigger and bigger until it falls down right towards its legs. From inside the statue, a bright purple light is pouring out, only greatening in its might with each moment the crack grows larger. When it finally reaches the statue's feet, two things happen: the light reaches its apex, blinding everyone around it, and the figure that looks like Arthur Hadfield breaks apart, two of its pieces falling to meet the floor. For almost a minute, all is silent. When the light dies down again, the statue is nowhere to be seen — the parts that made it up are back upon the platforms they originally came from. The wind is gone, too, as is the strange glow. Only the vague light of a setting sun illuminates the room from up above. Not a single piece of evidence suggesting something has just happened here remains. For what everybody inside the room knows, it all could've been just as well a dream. A memory, long since overwritten by life. In the distance, the two heavy doors open. The room beyond it is shrouded in darkness. Eight slowly stands up, grabbing her head, groaning with pain, and nearly falling over. Four rushes to help her. This time, she accepts his help. When they look into each other's eyes, an understanding comes over them, a realization of loss they didn't think was there. In their hearts — in their names, even — there is a Hadfield-shaped hole, the surname long having been lost on the wind. They are just John and Abigail, now. And they need nobody else but themselves. As the Alpha-1 members run to encompass the Overseers, checking if they are all fine — they are — the two siblings just look at each other. A small smile forms on both of their lips. After a moment, Eight turns to look at the unlocked path forward, and stretches her knuckles. O5-8: So, old man. You ready to get this over with? Four grins. O5-4: As ready as I'll ever be. [END LOG] Closing Statement: Later, following the mission's return, Site-01 records confirmed what was already suspected — the entity depicted in the log could not have been Arthur Hadfield and has been merely using his appearance as a disguise. The body of the real Hadfield has been safely stored first inside the properties of House Hadfield and then the Site-01 cryochamber morgue for more than a century, and just as it has for the last one hundred years, on the day of the mission it has shown no signs of movement or any other activity. Date: [UNKNOWN] Subject: SCP-8120-B Parties Present: O5-4, O5-8, Mobile Task Force Alpha-1 ("Red Right Hand"), [UNKNOWN] Foreword: Though the log presented below indeed describes subjective reality as experienced by O5-4 and O5-8, the validity of the claims presented below is still under heavy debate by the rest of the O5 Council. [BEGIN LOG] The Project DEICIDE team walks into the final chamber. They are led by Four and Eight, whose movements are full of determination. Recorded camera footage. The chamber is small and similar in make to the one they have just left. It's circular and without a ceiling, its top opening to the now-night sky above, allowing for a few long-gone stars to illuminate the room. The only thing in the entirety of the chamber — barring its stone brick walls, similarly overgrown and diminishing the higher they climb — is a box, no larger than two meters in length and one meter in height and width, situated directly in the middle. It bears no markings upon it. Carefully, the two Overseers come towards the object. As Four is about to touch it, he squints his eyes, briefly blinded by the light above. He furrows his brows, and moves a little to the side. Eight does the same, as if she too just noticed something there. And indeed something — or, rather, someone — is there. It is a ghostly figure, one made entirely from starlight, visible only from a strange angle. It appears to be a Fae individual in the prime of their health, sitting quietly upon the stone box. Their hand is located directly atop it, and they are looking down, whispering something. They do not seem to notice the newcomers. The being's form is only visible due to the strange ways the light bends inside the chamber, almost as if its continued existence is nothing but a quirk of nature, a strange parody of a genius loci. After a moment, the being smiles sadly. [UNKNOWN]: I'm glad to see my hopes weren't for nothing. Four comes closer. His movements are careful, but not in a manner that indicates fear — they are more akin to how someone behaves when encountering a fragile, endangered animal. O5-4: What… What are you? The figure looks up. There is sadness and the weight of a burden in its translucent eyes. [UNKNOWN]: Me? I'm just an old memory. One that should've long been forgotten, just like this whole place. It looks up at the stars above. [UNKNOWN]: Maybe once, I might've been something, a steward chosen by the revolutionaries to guard this wretched crown. But now? It smiles again. [UNKNOWN]: Now, I can barely remember who I was. Eight puts her hands together. O5-8: Do you have any na— At that, the being actually laughs. [UNKNOWN]: A name? No. I'm afraid I've been stripped of one long, long ago. The being stands up from the box, and faces the duo before it. [UNKNOWN]: But that doesn't matter now. I'm here, and I'm here to serve. Shall we commence, or do you wish to see the diadems first? Neither Overseer responds. They just look at each other, confused more than anything. [UNKNOWN]: In truth, I'm a bit surprised you two even bothered to come here. You already have the world, and— Eight shakes her head. O5-8: If anyone's surprised here, it's us. What the hell is going on here? Where is the weapon? The being skews its head. [UNKNOWN]: What… What weapon? Eight briefly glances at Four, worry in her eyes. O5-4: We were guided here by the belief a weapon powerful enough to slay the tyrant Mab lies here. Were we mistaken? [UNKNOWN]: Oh, not… not at all, but… but if I may, why would you need it? What for? O5-4: What do you mean, "what for?" Mab is still— [UNKNOWN]: Yes, yes, but… you've already succeeded her. You have the world for yourself. Why come here, why… why bother with any of the trials, if you've already crowned yourself her successors? The Overseers freeze in place. O5-8: What? The being appears genuinely just as confused. [UNKNOWN]: Did your language change, in the time I've been gone? I believe we were rather clear what this place was, when we buried the crowns of the tyrants deep inside this tomb. The being taps the the stone box. [UNKNOWN]: Are you not here to take up the crowns and officialize your reign, in the eyes of the stars above? For a few moments, the Overseers say nothing. Then, Eight just sighs. Four comes closer towards the entity. O5-4: What… What reign? What succession? What the hell are you talking about? O5-8: No matter. Answer me this, ghost— She steps forward. O5-8: How do we get rid of Mab? How do we put her down, this time for good? The being almost scoffs. [UNKNOWN]: But you already have! You've subjugated her, deep inside your palace — deep inside her palace! You have taken up her mantle and usurped her world, so what use could you have for trying to ruin that in favor of killing— O5-4: No. Stop. What the hell do you mean? We haven't usurped anything. We haven't succeeded anyone. [UNKNOWN]: Oh, but you have. You quite literally have the whole world beneath your feet. You said so when you crowned yourself the SCP Foundation, declaring yourselves masters of reality. Is that not what you wanted? O5-4: Wh— There seems to be some sort of misunderstanding. We didn't— We came together only to protect the world, to— The being smiles. [UNKNOWN]: Please. I don't need your excuses. I've been taught to not care, by both my old masters and life. O5-4: Nobody's here to take up any rules. We were led here by the belief you know how to kill Mab, so that we may free the world, and— [UNKNOWN]: But isn't it your father who guided you here? He who said to break the chains of mortality and bind the world under your heel? He who was beckoned to come here, who found this and saw it for a reflection of himself? Eight starts to laugh. O5-8: Oh my god. She buries her face in her hands. She doesn't stop laughing. [UNKNOWN]: Did you genuinely not know? Did you not know what the purpose of building your three-arrowed Empire was, beneath all of those excuses and grand missions? Can you not see what you have become? O5-4: I… Four shakes his head. O5-4: How do we kill Mab? Tell me. Now. For a few moments, the being tries to collect its thoughts. Then, it looks directly into Four's eyes. [UNKNOWN]: You don't. O5-4: Excuse me? [UNKNOWN]: You don't. You can't kill a god. You can destroy one, sure, but never kill it. The idea remains in the world all around you, and it always will, no matter how hard you try. Humans cannot kill ideas. O5-4: We were told that inside this tomb, we would find something that would aid us in actually getting rid of her. Were we lied to? [UNKNOWN]: No. You were told that here, you'd find a way to succeed Mab. And if you wish to go by that route, I offer you this: The being taps on the box again. [UNKNOWN]: A final resting place of the crowns of the Twin Tyrants, if you wish to take up their mantle and chain the world, like your father would have always wanted, like the path you're walking on is inevitably dictating. Four swallows. O5-4: And if we don't? If we wish to slay Mab — not for ourselves, but for the world — what should we do? Is there anything you can offer us in that regard? The being's smile drops down, and turns sour. [UNKNOWN]: Yes. Just like before, I have two gifts for you: one of truth, and one of guidance. The being looks up. The night sky above it is already beginning to fade. Recorded camera footage. [UNKNOWN]: Firstly, you ought to stop lying to yourselves. Embrace what you are and act accordingly, or realize the change you lack and stray away from your path. The being closes its eyes. Little more than its face remains, the starlight just seconds away from disappearing. [UNKNOWN]: And second — if you really do wish to kill her, then let the world be. Set the wheel of history turning once more, and let the tyrant be broken below its ceaseless movement forward. Its eyes are the only thing that is still there. Their irises reflect stars older than the world. [UNKNOWN]: Because otherwise, you won't have a world to keep safe. The being fades as a new day breaks upon the world. [END LOG] Closing Statement: Though following the disappearance of the entity presented in the log above, the Project DEICIDE team awaited it in the nights following the one during which they interacted with it, it hasn't appeared inside SCP-8120-B since. In spite of this discovery, the personnel remained inside SCP-8120-B for over two weeks after the recording of this log, both conducting research on the remaining parts of the location and attempting to call back the figure for further questioning. Both paths yielded no actual results. In light of further interaction with SCP-8120-B being deemed a waste of Foundation resources by the rest of the O5 Council, on 16/05/1995, the team was called back to baseline reality. They began their journey back one day later. The course that should be taken in regard to further SCP-8120 research is currently under debate by the O5 Council. log-in > DOES THE BLACK MOON HOWL? only of its broken lineage > OVERSEER CREDENTIALS ACCEPTED. > WELCOME, O5-4. DISPLAYING ADDITIONAL SCP-8120 FILES IN DRAFT FORM… Date: FIELD EMPTY! Subject: FIELD EMPTY! Parties Present: FIELD EMPTY! Foreword: FIELD EMPTY! [BEGIN LOG] Two figures stand at the Ultimatum's prowl. They are leaning on its barriers, both holding a crown in their hands. One of the diadems — the one held by the woman — is cold, its gentle and light form weaved with ice, silver, and crystals. The other — held by the man — radiates warmth. It is crafted from interwoven summer grass and small branches. Both are beautiful pieces of work, true artworks more than functional objects. Somewhere in the distance, the Alpha-1 personnel notify the two figures they are about to breach out of SCP-8120-B in less than a few minutes. Neither replies. Eventually, after a very long while, the woman speaks up. Her voice is quiet, but firm; it isn't afraid. Just tired. O5-8: So, what do we do? The man looks at her, then at the crown in his hands. O5-4: Yeah. What do we do? We probably ought to take them back to -1. Aaron wouldn't be happy if we didn't. The woman rolls her eyes. O5-8: And watch those old pricks tinker with them? Bury them in some dusty vault after years of wasted research? She shakes her head, then sighs. O5-8: No. I don't think we should. The man chuckles. O5-4: You think any of them would actually try them on? The woman smirks. O5-8: Don't know. Hadfield certainly would, though. The moment that word is spoken, silence falls between the duo. For a while, neither figure speaks. They just look out beyond the horizon, beyond this tranquil record of what once was, the breach right into baseline reality already visible at the edge of their vision. The impact will occur in less than two minutes. The woman eyes her crown. She rotates it slowly, noticing a small crack in the previously immaculate ice. It is an ugly thing. Were it not for that single, wretched mistake — a singular, terrible error that has rendered the whole thing corrupt — it might've even stood for something. Now, though, she sees, it is little more than a symbol of the past. And just like the past, it does not belong in the present. O5-8: Give me that. She shows her brother to hand her his crown. O5-4: What for? He skews his head, but complies. O5-8: Because I know what we should do. The same thing we should've done ages ago. The woman takes the diadems, and with all of her ontokinetically-augmented might throws them into the ocean before her. In just a few seconds, they disappear beneath the restless waves, never again to be seen by history. O5-8: We live to move on. Recorded camera footage. [END LOG] Footnotes 1. Further referred to as PoI-8120. 2. Or store / imprison / chain, depending on the translation and interpretation. 3. An ancient and near-infinitely powerful Fae reality bender monarch that ruled the Earth as the queen of the Fae Empire approximately 300 000 years ago. Though dead in flesh, her soul remains a threat outside the boundaries of baseline reality, constantly attempting to re-emerge, re-incarnate in a physical form, and regain her dominion over the world. 4. A symptom of a fully-realized Class III or above reality bender. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8120" by Ralliston, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8120. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: header.png Author: Jasiu06, djkaktus, EstrellaYoshte License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Derivative Of: Filename: 1730warning.png Author: djkaktus License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Name: Overwatch Command Logo Author: EstrellaYoshte License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Filename: sunrise.jpg Name: Sunrise orange sky.jpg Author: Nooreva76 License: CC BY 4.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Filename: end.jpg Name: Halong Bay islands with sunset tint Author: Piktour UK License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: starborn.jpg Name: Stars Author: Keith McDuffee License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: hadfield.jpg Name: Gussow Portrait of a Man 1883.jpg Author: Karl Gussow License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Filename: compass1.jpg Name: 04-704 Compass (view of top of lid) (FindID 118529).jpg Author: Surrey County Council, David Williams License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Filename: moon.jpg Name: Crescent Moon and Two Planets Along A Line Author: Chic Bee License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: ultimatum.jpg Name: USSConolly.jpg Author: USN License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Filename: ship.jpg Name: 120516-N-UM734-1066 (7243619354).jpg Author: U.S. Department of Defense Current Photos License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Filename: b.jpg Name: Gorgeous muted colours brought out of this tranquil Halong Bay scene Author: Piktour UK License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: sextant.jpg Name: Sextant-MHS 40-IMG 3784-gradient.jpg Author: Rama License: CC BY-SA 3.0 FR Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Filename: o5-4.jpg Name: Lambert Th van Kleef (ca 1910).jpg Author: N/A License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Filename: o5-8.png Name: Unidentified young woman (6915969180).jpg Author: Mennonite Church USA Archives License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Filename: cave.jpg Name: Cave habitat natural cave habitat.jpg Author: John and Karen Hollingsworth, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Filename: header.png Author: Jasiu06, STyx, RicHard-59, Mîḵā'ēl, SharkD, EstrellaYoshte License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Derivative Of: Name: World location map mono.svg Author: STyx, RicHard-59, Mîḵā'ēl, SharkD License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Name: Overwatch Command Logo Author: EstrellaYoshte License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki |
SCP-8124 | safe | Item#: 8124 Level2 Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo SCP-8124 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8124 is to be kept in a standard containment locker in Site-25. Due to its potential use to hostile groups of interest, it is to be kept under constant watch. Individuals testing with SCP-8124 are to bring the following equipment: At least five days worth of rations. A tent and sleeping bag. Fire starting equipment. A handgun with at least two additional magazines. A high-caliber1 rifle. Description: SCP-8124 is a pair of brown leather boots. There are no labels or marks to indicate a designer or date of creation. The size of SCP-8124 changes depending on the person who is wearing them, growing or shrinking to a size that is always difficult, but possible, to wear. Whether SCP-8124 is too large or too small appears to be random, but once an individual puts them on, they will be the same size every time they are worn by that individual. SCP-8124's anomalous properties manifest when their wearer takes a step forward while the following criteria are met: The wearer is visualizing a location that they have seen before.2 The location that the wearer is visualizing is not being observed.3 The wearer is not being observed. When these conditions are met, the wearer will be transported to an extradimensional space, hereby referred to as SCP-8124-1. The details of the dimension vary (see testing logs for more details), but there will always be hostile creatures and/or a threatening environment that the wearer will need to get past by traveling a particular path. After reaching the end of this path, the wearer will leave SCP-8124-1 and appear at the location they visualized. This journey typically takes between two and four days within SCP-8124-1, however recent tests have managed to reduce this time to under 24 hours. None of this time will be experienced outside of SCP-8124-1 and the wearer will seem to appear instantaneously at their destination. While the creatures and environment within SCP-8124-1 appear dangerous, they pose no actual danger to the wearer. All injuries suffered within the space disappear upon leaving SCP-8124-1, and if the wearer suffers a life-threatening injury they will simply experience themselves returning to the location outside of SCP-8124-1 where they started. However, any supplies consumed or used while in SCP-8124-1 are not replenished, and should be replaced before reentering. Addendum A-Testing Logs: Test subjects have proven unable to verbally describe their experiences in SCP-8124-1. Therefore, post-testing interviews have been replaced with written debriefings. Descriptions of SCP-8124-1 tend to be written in a style unlike the test subject's typical writing patterns, favoring emotional and literary language. Efforts to prevent anomalous manipulation of the testing logs are ongoing. Testing Log-8124-1 Test Subject: Agent Wolf Destination: Site-32 I awoke in a storm. The water had already gotten into my lungs and I had to cough furiously to avoid drowning. I don't know how long I had been out, but any amount of time lying on the ground in this torrent could have been deadly. I would have considered myself lucky to be alive, but being alive meant I had to deal with this strange wasteland. The grounds empty as far as I could see. It was pure mud, no plants, no animals. The ground felt like quicksand. It was as if this was a desert before the downpour started. How long ago that was, I had no idea. I picked a direction and walked. What else was I to do? There were no markers and no paths. There wasn't even wind to guide me. If the Ways of the World wanted me to end up in a particular location, that would be where I inevitably picked. The world was a bizarre constant. I only saw two sources of motion: the rain, and a looming shadow on the other side of the clouds. It came only in vague glimpses, but I knew it was no mere hallucination. It was circling overhead. Circling me. It followed along as I walked until sunset. Setting up camp was a feat of its own. The way my feet started to sink when I stood in one place boded poorly for any attempts to sleep, but one way or another I needed to stop walking. The flameless heater in my meal was valuable, since I don't think there was any chance of getting a fire going in this weather. I can't say I slept that night, except in fits and stirs. There were times when I couldn't keep my eyes open, but those were interrupted by my animal instincts keeping me from sinking into the muck. In the morning, the shadow was closer. I could just barely make out its shape. There was a main body, and curved wings on the side. Some sort of bird, but far larger than any I'd seen before. It wasn't doing anything to me, but I didn't like the idea that it was watching me from above. Nevertheless, I continued. Any attempts I made to keep track of which direction I was walking yesterday washed away in the rain, so once again I trusted the Powers That Be to guide me in the direction I needed to go. Around noon that day I found a peculiar spot: a patch of red mud. I reached in, and felt something buried. It was a person, or perhaps the body of one. I carried them out and saw the wound on their arm. It was a cut, larger than most those made by human weapons, and much more grisly. It wasn't bleeding, but that was only because of the filth that was covering it. I would have recoiled in disgust if I could afford to. But this was not the time for reactions like that. If this person was still alive, I had to make sure they stayed that way. I had my first aid kit, and it did as much as it could, but they seemed like a lost cause. "…who are you?" A miracle occurred. They were weak, and they were tired, but they were alive. "Just someone passing through. And you?" "I guess I'm passing through too." They looked at their arm, "Just, maybe not the same way." "Don't talk like that. It doesn't help anything. I'll get you out of this storm." I picked them up on my shoulder. The extra weight caused me to sink a few more inches into the mud. "You shouldn't waste your strength on me, I'll just slow you down." "I don't know where I'm going, so how can I get there any slower?" It wasn't entirely true, I looked up at the shadow that was still circling over us. I was hoping to get away from that thing, and with this person on my back, that was a lost cause. But I couldn't let them know that. "Fine. It's not like I can fight you about it." They resigned themself to being saved. The rest of the day felt like a week. I tried to start a conversation to distract myself from my muscles burning. "How did you get hurt?" "I don't know." "Where are you from?" "I don't know." "How did you get here?" "I don't know." I started looking for anything they did know. Something basic. "What's your name?" "I'm a traveller." Not an answer to my question, but at least it was an answer to something. "Oh? Where have you travelled?" "Anywhere that'll have me." "Is that a lot of places?" "Not anymore." I gave out a slight laugh before realizing that that wasn't a joke. "What did you do?" "Nothing, but everything changed around me. The world isn't for me anymore." I didn't know what to say to that. They looked young, but maybe that was deceptive. Or maybe wherever they were from changed quickly. It didn't matter in the end. It's not like I could give them any advice. My life was probably just as messed up as theirs. The second night was worse than the first. I had to make sure my new traveling companion made it. Giving medical attention in the pouring rain is bad enough. Giving it in the dark is even worse. I truly got no sleep that night. Not even the short bursts of the night before. "Hey," my companion said, just as groggy as me, "Why did you bring me with you?" "What else would I do? I'm not a monster." "Doesn't mean you have to be an idiot though. I can see the toll this is taking on you." "That's all temporary, it doesn't matter. I promise you, we're getting out of this together." "Don't make promises you can't keep." Neither of us were happy with that. In the morning I dreaded the day ahead, but I dreaded looking up even more. The thing that had been circling wasn't a shadow anymore. It had come through the clouds in the form of a giant white bird. It was an albatross, I think. But it looked large enough that its beak could swallow my arm. That's when I looked at the arm of my friend. One large messy scratch down it. I understood where it came from. Looking up to the monster, something felt wrong, but that didn't stop me. I aimed my gun, and it died. Testing Log-8124-2 Test Subject: Agent Yates Destination: Testing Area 24-B My hands were already at the wheel of a mighty ship. I steered it through the waves with a grace that was all too familiar. My crew was beside me, ready for the moment I gave the word. They were starting to get antsy after all this time at sea. It had taken weeks of dealing with all the dangers of the open ocean: fish large enough to swallow the ship whole, rocky passages that threatened to splinter our sides, and the constant threat of our food stores running low. But we were so close to our goal. There was a shout from above; the scout had seen something. Finally, the long-lost island would make itself shown. And with it, the treasure we'd been seeking. I had to admit that I would be a little disappointed once we actually had it. The journey had been hard, yes, but traveling with this crew was its own reward. Once our job was done, we would have no reason to stick together, and only the Fates knew if we would ever see each other again. "What are you thinking about captain?" My first mate, the closest companion on this journey, seemed to notice my absentminded daydreaming. "Oh, nothing. Just how I'll spend my share of the treasure." I wasn't about to admit any of the sappier things. "Well you should wait till we actually get it. You never know what could happen." They weren't wrong, but I couldn't help but get ahead of myself. The island was finally within sight. The cave that all the legends spoke of was in the center, with the telltale trees around it. Three: one old, one new, and one yet to grow. When we were close enough to disembark, I gathered a team of some of my bravest fighters and most loyal crew mates, there was no telling what dangers would await us on that island, but we were prepared for anything. The cave system was longer than we expected, with far more twists and turns. It seemed as if we had walked in our own footsteps too many times to count. We trusted in the Voice of the Path to guide us, but that voice was muddled. After many hours, we started to feel weak and decided our strength ought to be replenished with a meal. Luckily, I had brought along a great deal of food. "You're always so prepared," said my first mate, "I can't say I'm familiar with this type of ration. Where did you find it?" I had an answer to that question, but I'm not sure they would believe it. Honestly, I'm not sure if I believed it. "Just something I whipped up with the supplies below deck." Lying to them would be a little less uncomfortable if they didn't trust me as much. As is, I felt I was betraying them. "You have a real gift for this. Mind showing me a thing or two after this all's done?" I didn't want to make any promises, so I just said, "I'll see what I can do." When we were done eating, we moved with a newfound vigor. Finding the ending to the cave became no problem to us. It was as if it had been sitting in the corner, waiting for us to almost give up, then it sprung out to greet us. I didn't complain, I'm not sure I would be able to handle another few hours of walking through the same tunnels. The cave was a wonderful sight, with a waterfall cascading off the far wall into an underground lake. A portion of rock was jutting out into the center of the lake. On the rock was a statue seemingly carved from coral with a spear in its hand. Something about this spear told us it was what we had been looking for all this time. It was carved from the bone of some large creature, with runes engraved down the side of it in colorful sea glass. The tip was some gemstone that I had yet to encounter before that moment and have never encountered since. As if pushed, I found myself in front of the statue, holding the spear in my hands. That was when a great crash came from the water. It was a massive nautilus, with each of its tendrils longer than a human being. It had been dwelling in this lake, waiting for someone to take its spear, and I was that foolish someone. It lashed out towards me, and I winced in preparation, only to feel no impact. When I opened my eyes I saw it had grabbed my first mate. they had jumped in front of me. I could hear their ribs cracking as they were held in the strange grip of this creature. I looked at the spear, and at the beast. I knew what had to happen, but I had no experience with a weapon like this. So I used what I knew. I aimed my gun, and it died. Testing Log-8124-4 Test Subject: Agent Norris Destination: Testing Area 10-A I entered SCP-8124-1 in what appeared to be a temperate forest. There was a small stream flowing to the northeast, and a figure standing beside it. The outfit and appearance of the figure is difficult to describe, but they were filling the role of a wilderness guide. I followed the stream, but did not speak with them. At the end of the stream, there was a grotto with multiple types of mushrooms. None of the mushrooms matched any species I was familiar with, but they appeared to comprise three species: one black, one gold, and one purple. I did not attempt to tamper with any of them, as I did not know if they were toxic. The guide had followed me. They explained some traits of the mushrooms, primarily their age and seasonal growth patterns. I asked if there were any dangerous creatures around here. They stated that sometimes large insects nest under the mushrooms and prey on travelers. I dug up the ground beneath one, and a beetle crawled out. It was approximately the size of my torso, with pincers as long as my arm. I aimed my gun, and it died. Testing Log-8124-7 Test Subject: Agent Gardner Destination: Site-15 There was a desert. There was an oasis. There was a starved figure in the oasis. I did not interact with them. I spent ten minutes inspecting the plant life. Nothing was identifiable. I left the oasis. There was a serpent that resembled Crotalus cerastes.4 It hissed at me. I aimed my gun, and it died. Testing Log-8124-12 Test Subject: Agent Hill Destination: Site-26 Terrain: Desert Path: Southerly wind Threat: Unidentified mammal Conclusion: I aimed my gun, and it died. Incident Report-8124-1 Forward: During a mundane test of SCP-8124, the anomalous properties failed to activate, and the SCP instead tightened around the feet of Agent Brown enough to cause serious injury. She collapsed on the ground and Head Researcher Garcia and Agent Yates entered the testing chamber. <Begin Log> Garcia: Agent Brown, are you okay? Yates: She's not responding. Garcia: Can you hear me? Yates, get those things off of her. Yates: I'm trying, but it's like they're fused to her skin. Garcia: Do what you have to. There's no telling what will happen if she's left like this. [Agent Brown begins to stir.] Garcia: Brown! Can you understand me? Brown: When the town crier announces news to the curious people, he needn't ask for confirmation. However, when a peasant beseeches his lord, he waits for the master's words with bated breath. Tragic is the day when the fool wears the crown. Garcia: Pardon? Brown: There once was a child who longed to see the world, but every road they walked down led back to their house. This left them feeling hopeless, as to repeat oneself is chillingly dull. Yates: Has she gone insane? Garcia: Quiet. [To Agent Brown.] Who am I speaking with right now? Brown: A cobbler's final deed, immortalized in the skin of an unwitting ally. The tools of whom's creation have been scattered north, east, south, and west, waiting to be collected. Welcome, almighty curator, take a seat. Garcia: I think I'll stand. Why have you taken this person hostage? Brown: The hound had grown lean and feral from its abuse. It longed for meat that its owner had once given it, but it knew they were deaf to its cries. So it wrapped itself around the child they valued so dearly, and snarled. Garcia: [To himself.] Dog… Child… [To Agent Brown.] I'm not certain I follow. Yates: I'm sure I don't. Brown: When the bishop's procession and the king's parade meet, the soldier is to step aside and let them pass. Garcia: Soldier. I think that's you, Yates. Yates: What, so she's telling me to go away? Garcia: I think it just means she'd rather you be quiet. Stay on guard. Brown: The tyrant's forces had laid siege to an innocent town, yet when a poor old beggar threw sticks and stones they called them a threat. Garcia: Tyrant? Is that what you think of me? Brown: Paper cannot think, but it can remember. It was not the same pen that wrote upon the book all those years ago, but it was of the same make. Garcia: I feel if I continue with this line of questioning, it will only get more confusing. I presume you have demands, would you mind telling us what they are? Brown: The poet settled down to their nightly campfire and invited travelers to sit beside them. Each one came with their own tale to tell. Each one more magnificent than the last. That was until the scholar came. The first night the scholar spoke of the nature of the world and offered the poet knowledge they had never before considered. But the scholar's wisdom was limited. The second and third nights they came and offered the same words, yet still took the poet's hospitality. The repetition was enough to drive the poet mad. Garcia: I see. This poet, why did they not simply put out their fire? Brown: The explorer was bitten by the smallest of all the insects in the jungle, but the weakest ones carry the strongest venom. They were told by their doctor they would be dead within the week and that they should rest. They could not see the purpose in spending their last week avoiding their life's purpose, so they continued through the jungle. Garcia: You're not keen on sticking to one metaphor, are you? Brown: The winds do not stay in one place, it is not in their nature. If a hurricane were to stay still, who can say what havoc it would bring? Garcia: I suppose I shouldn't have expected any better. What do you actually want us to do? Brown: Stagnant wind blows from a stripped mine. Greedy men have already taken every rock and used it to create their weapons of war. Garcia: Still a problem, not a solution. Brown: The artist needed more than paint to create their masterpiece. They needed a canvas. They needed a muse. But most important, they needed the right atmosphere. If they feared a fool would come in and spill their colorful pot, how could they make what they must? Garcia: I believe I understand. If you free our agent, I can fix your problem. Brown: It is the nature of the world that every person must be themself, and a traitor cannot be a traitor until they are trusted. Far be it from me to defy nature. [Agent Brown collapses.] Yates: What was that about? Garcia: You should be able to retrieve the SCP now. Do so. <End Log> Conclusion: After this incident, SCP-8124 was removed from Agent Brown's feet and returned to its container. Agent Brown does not appear to have any recollection of her actions during this incident. By order of Head Researcher Garcia, testing on SCP-8124 is not to be performed until further notice. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8124" by Fireknight, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8124. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Boots.jpeg Name: Boots MET 11.60.202ab F Author: Metropolitan Museum of Art License: CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Boots_MET_11.60.202ab_F.jpg Footnotes 1. At least .50. 2. This includes photographs, but not secondary descriptions. 3. This includes individuals, cameras, microphones, pressure sensors, and anomalous tracking tools. 4. Rattlesnake. |
SCP-8125 | esoteric-class | A shifting narrative-based Nexus struggles to survive, stranded in a young, weak timeline. Finding a host, the parasitic Nexus invades, imprinting on baseline reality, manifesting fragments of tales held within. #page-content .collapsible-block { position: relative; padding: 0.5em; margin: 0.5em; box-shadow: 2px 1.5px 1px rgba(176,16,0,0.7), 0 0 0px 1px lightgrey; overflow-wrap: break-word; } .collapsible-block-unfolded{ color: black; overflow-wrap: break-word; } .collapsible-block-unfolded-link { text-align:center; } .collapsible-block-folded { text-align: center; color: dimgrey; } .collapsible-block-link { font-weight: bold; color: dimgrey; text-align: center; } .addendumbox { padding: .01em 16px; margin-bottom: 16px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 1em; box-shadow:0 2px 5px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.16),0 2px 10px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.12); } .material-box { padding: .01em 16px; margin-bottom: 16px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 1em; border: 1px lightgrey solid; box-shadow: 1px 2px 2px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.16); } .material-box blockquote { border: 1px double #999; } .wiki-content-table { width: 100%; } .addendumbox blockquote { border: 1px double #999; } .addendumtitle { opacity: 0.8; margin-bottom: 10px; color: #b01; } .maintitle { margin-bottom: 10px; color: black; } .scp-header { text-align: center; font-size:x-large; color:#b01; } .addenda-header { width: 100%; border-bottom: 2px black solid; color: black; } .scp-info { display:flex; justify-content:space-between; font-size:large; } .scp-info-box { display:flex; justify-content:space-between; } .object-info { color:black; align-self: flex-end; font-size: large; } .title-style { opacity: 0.8; margin-bottom: 10px; color: #b01; font-size: large; text-decoration: underline; font-weight: bold; } .update-div-empty { text-align: right; font-size: x-small; color: lightgrey; } .update-div { text-align: right; font-size: x-small; } .computed { border: 1px black solid; width: 50%; display: inline-block; text-align: left; padding: 3px; } .computed:before { content:"Computed Code"; font-weight: bold; border-bottom: solid 1px black; width: 100%; } .rawcode { border: black solid 1px; width: 50%; display: inline-block; text-align: left; padding: 3px; } .rawcode:before{ content:"Raw Code"; text-align: center; font-weight: bold; border-bottom: solid 1px black; width: 100%; } .codebox { display: inline-block; width: 100%; text-align: center; } .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a em, .yui-navset .yui-nav a em{ padding: 0.25em .75em; top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; } .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a { background: gray; } .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected { margin: 0px; } .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a, .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a:focus, .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a:hover, .yui-navset .yui-nav .selected a { background: gray; } .yui-navset .yui-nav a:hover, .yui-navset .yui-nav a:focus { background: gainsboro; text-decoration: none; } .yui-navset .yui-nav a, .yui-navset .yui-navset-top .yui-nav a { background-color: none; background-image: none; } .yui-navset .yui-nav a { background: none; } .yui-navset .yui-nav li{ margin: 0px; } #page-content .licensebox .collapsible-block { position: unset; padding: unset; margin: unset; box-shadow: unset; } .licensebox .collapsible-block-unfolded{ color: inherit; } .licensebox .collapsible-block-unfolded-link { text-align: left; } .licensebox .collapsible-block-folded { text-align: left; color: inherit; } .licensebox .collapsible-block-link { color: inherit; text-align: left; } close Info X This SCP contains 3 pages (This current page and 2 offsets) These offsets are 1.2k, 1.7k, and 3k words respectively. ⚠ Important article information ^ NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION RECORDS AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION Due to the ongoing risk of an LK-Class "Lifted Veil" scenario, this nexus has been upgraded to SCP status. All information relating to Nx-23 has been collated in this document for immediate investigation. Upon creation of new containment procedures and the semi-complete investigation into the phenomena involved with Nx-23, an SCP document will be created to replace/organize the information stored here. — Maria Jones, Director, RAISA LOCATION #: NX-23 LEVEL-02/Restricted AREA CLASS: DUNWICH1 POPULATION: UNKNOWN LOI #: NX-23 LEVEL-02/Re AREA CLASS: DUNWICH POPULATION: UNKNOWN A photo taken of Nx-23's interior following a minor reality shift. Assigned Site Site-12 Site Director Dr Durrani Research Head Dr Michaels Assigned MTF MTF Xi-5 (“Newton's Bullies”) Assigned Site Site-12 Site Director Dr Durrani Research Head Dr Michaels Assigned MTF MTF Xi-5 (“Newton's Bullies”) Nexus Interaction Protocol Following several D-Class deaths during the first two excursions, no Foundation personnel are to attempt manned exploration of Nx-23. Exploration of Nx-23 is to be made via a remotely piloted drone with video transmission capabilities. Any attempts to interfere with Nx-23's storylines are to be immediately halted due to potential loss of equipment. In the case of a known narrative appearing, limited interaction with non-Prime, story-related entities are allowed. Interaction with unknown non-story-related entities is prohibited due to the potential of an unknown Prime entity. Due to the repeated destruction of any entity sent in to investigate Nx-23, exploration is paused. Dr Michaels is currently exploring alternative observation methods to prevent unnecessary loss. Contact with the Serpent's Hand is to be maintained for both internal updates on the Wanderer's Library and to prevent accidental incursions into Nx-23. All thaumaturgic seals placed on Nx-23 ways are to be maintained in cooperation with Hand thaumaturges. Description Nx-23 is the designation for an extremely unstable extradimensional space exhibiting characteristics of numerous fictional works. This space is prone to rapid unexpected reality/narrative shifts in which one or more narratives are substituted for a different work, often altering the space's terrain and the appearance of entities within. The entities in this space will not react to the change and respond with confusion when questioned about their previous nature. Nx-23 will always contain at least one population centre from one of the current active narratives, located in the apparent centre of the extradimensional space. These locations always contain a significant amount of permanent residents with active shops and governing bodies. The entities within this area are able to be interacted with, though express confusion and amnesia when asked about some aspects of their past. Whilst slightly conflicting elements within Nx-23 can coexist, these discrepancies will not affect the overall plot of any involved narrative. Investigating these inconsistencies will result in the observer struggling to retain any information about the related feature; particularly egregious physical shifts result in the feature appearing blurred and indistinguishable. These concurrent narratives within Nx-23 typically share a similar general setting, though combinations of sci-fi, alt-history, and fantasy have all been noted to appear at once. These disparate narratives typically shift rapidly, reverting to a less divergent set of genres within hours. Each narrative within Nx-23 typically has one Prime entity. Prime entities are characters of which the story revolves around. Interfering with these entities (and the related story) is possible, though any attempt to alter the course of a main narrative has failed. These failed attempts mostly result in the nexus rerouting the Prime entity, or the related story, around any introduced obstacle. If the nexus is unable to fix the plot, a narrative shift occurs instantly. It has been noted that most non-Prime sections of a story can be altered, as long as it doesn't interfere with the Prime narrative. These side plots are often different to the known work of fiction regardless of outside interference, typically incorporating either characters, events or plots from the other active narratives within the nexus. Currently, no links between the known works of fiction discovered within Nx-23 have been found. Nexus History Nx-23 was first discovered following work on the new Chronology division wing2 within Site-12's Central-Southern Facility. Upon completion and activation of all required machinery, Chronology division researchers noticed an unusually high local tachyon count. Initially suspected to be originating from the new acroamatic abatement facility nearby, an investigation located a Way in a recently excavated area of the Facility. Following the discovery of this Way at Site-12, two other sites3 also reported the existence of Ways linking to Nx-23. Originally believed to be manifesting at random, these Ways were all located in close proximity to a stable Wanderer's Library entrance. Due to this proximity, many Ways were initially unnoticed by monitoring equipment in nearby sites. An immediate follow-up inspection of all Wanderer's Library Ways revealed a further nine European sites reporting manifestations of Nx-23 Ways, with investigations in other continents ongoing. Reports from contacts within the Serpent's Hand suggest no abnormalities with the Wanderer's Libary itself. A consensus from the Chronology Division staff suggests that the presence of tachyons within Site-12 means that the extradimensional space housing Nx-23 formed relatively recently4. This assessment is unconfirmed and awaiting further investigation from the Temporal Anomalies Department as of this document's last update. Speculation into the cause of Nx-23's rapid manifestation and Way creation is ongoing due to worries about Nx-23's stability and the potential egress of anomalous entities from the extradimensional space. Over a period of three weeks following the containment of all discovered Ways, several unmanned expeditions into Nx-23 were launched. These excursions were halted after this period due to a lack of useful knowledge gained and the loss of numerous expeditionary drones. Notable Events Expedition Notable Event Summary Unmanned Expedition NX23-004 The surroundings are mostly obscured by a heavy mist, the camera shunts forward but stops suddenly as a rhythmic thudding gets audibly louder. A woman in a long black cape appears from the fog, floating in the middle of a ring of several horseshoes and being propelled forward by unknown means, disappearing back into the fog shortly after. The drone is located in a large settlement covered in ash. A large figure with several metal spikes protruding from his body appears to be talking to a smaller entity in an apron with a tray. The phrase "cut me own thyroid" is heard as the large figure takes something from the tray, collapsing shortly after. Several figures are noted hovering in the sky. These figures appear to be utilizing high-speed coins for combat purposes, though none appear to have taken any notice of the large red dragon flying just below them. As the camera pans downwards, three figures can be seen standing on a rooftop. One of the three figures is nude, on one leg and holding a bow. Unmanned Expedition NX23-007 The camera heads into a futuristic glass city, the buildings and people within the city begin to warp and become fuzzy. This effect continues for 10 minutes until the buildings slowly reappear, though now as small homes with modern American architecture. The nearby entities appear to have also morphed, now resembling a group of young children. As the camera tracks the group, one of the children observed is shown to be able to manifest flames from his hands. In the background of the footage, a large barn is seen to fall from the sky, passing through a large clear surface. Unmanned Expedition NX23-012 The camera exits a large wooded area. Just ahead is a large settlement with several wooden ships floating overhead. As the camera slowly pans, a large chain can be seen, leading up towards a landmass suspended in midair. Atop this landmass is an oddly shaped imposing building, with towers sprouting from all available surfaces. This view is abruptly cut when the camera starts shaking. The ground ahead of the camera appears to shake, though with a strange blur. A whirring sound ensues as the camera jerkily tips forward towards a newly opened fissure in the ground. The feed then cuts out. NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION RECORDS AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION The above documentation is out of date. Please view the updated version of this file. — Jane Berry, Senior Clerk, RAISA Footnotes 1. A Class-4 Nexus. The Nexus is almost entirely cut off from the non-anomalous world. Special measures may be required to keep personnel safe. 2. Sector 4. 3. Site-06 and Site-44 4. Many extradimensional spaces are timelines in their own right, acting as a sub-timeline within our own. When these new timelines are created, tachyons are produced. Whilst difficult to detect the resulting tachyons upon creation, typically Ways into baseline reality will also appear, from which tachyons can be detected through. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8125" by Dr Moned, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8125. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: DunwichFinal.svg Author: Dr Moned License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/8000contestdrmoned Filename: FirstProblemNoticed2.jpg Author: Dr Moned License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/8000contestdrmoned Filename: GleipnirAdjusted.svg Author: Dr Moned License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/8000contestdrmoned Filename: Gleipnir.svg Author: Dr Moned License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/8000contestdrmoned Filename: Offset1PhotoCompressed.jpg Author: Dr Moned License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/8000contestdrmoned Filename: xlvlfourc.png Author: Dr Moned License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/8000contestdrmoned |
SCP-8126 | euclid | Item#: 8126 Level2 Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: ekhi Risk Class: notice link to memo First recorded sighting of SCP-8126. Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8126 is to be contained on a dedicated server at Site-64. A connection to a backup power source is mandatory at all times to avoid accidental neutralization, but it must be isolated from making an external connection. In the event of a containment breach, immediately alert MTF Mu-4 to begin monitoring web spaces for any mentions of SCP-8126. Posts about these entities are to be removed and individuals who made them must be tracked down and provided amnestics. Any tests involving its members must first be approved by its head researcher. Description: SCP-8126 refers to a group of entities that are capable of inhabiting most digital devices, such as personal computers and smart phones, which they can travel between via Wi-Fi. Their presence is undetectable in most cases, as visual inspection and computer diagnostics yield no abnormal results. Members of SCP-8126 exhibit nomadic tendencies and typically do not stay on a single device for longer than 12 hours at maximum. Under certain conditions, they are able to manifest themselves on a device's display, demonstrating an ability to shape their own appearance at will by innovating from image files they've discovered. SCP-8126 are sapient and capable of speech, as documented in recordings and sightings. Addendum 8126-1 - Discovery: On 2020/12/08, researcher Dr. Ash from Site-32 reported the first documented sighting of SCP-8126 made by Foundation staff. A screen recording of this event has been captured. <BEGIN LOG> Dr. Ash can be heard whistling from a distance, slowly getting closer to the computer. Clicking sounds can be heard from the computer speakers as SCP-8126 interacts with the applications on-screen in a haphazard way. Dr. Ash: … What the hell are you? SCP-8126 looks towards Dr. Ash's general direction, staring in dismay. SCP-8126: Oh crap- SCP-8126 runs frantically across the screen before hiding behind an application window. SCP-8126: … Are you Marta? Dr. Ash: No? I'm Ash. Who is Marta now? After a short period of silence, Dr. Ash moves the application window aside in order to look for SCP-8126, and finds that it is no longer present. Dr. Ash: … What the fuck? <END LOG> Additional sightings have been documented following this incident, with SCP-8126 targeting personnel of various sites by corrupting and vandalizing Foundation files. All of these sightings and incidents feature the name "Marta Kovačić" (designated POI-8126). A search for this individual has been initiated. Results are currently pending. The search has concluded. See the following addendum for further information. Addendum 8126-2 - POI-8126: On April 7th, 2021, a video recording of SCP-8126 has been captured that has provided crucial information in the search for POI-8126. <BEGIN LOG> An instance of SCP-8126 is seen vandalizing a computer desktop while Dr. Ash quietly disconnects the device from a router, alerting it in the process. Dr. Ash: Gotcha! SCP-8126 is visibly startled and hides behind the application it was defacing. Dr. Ash: Now where do you think you're going? SCP-8126 is seen sprinting across the screen in a panic after Dr. Ash closes the program before it gets grabbed by the cursor. SCP-8126: S-Shit- Fuck- Okay, fine! I'll stop messing with your stuff, just please let me go! Dr. Ash: Ha! As if I'm gonna let you get off that easy after destroying several classified documents. Now, tell me, where do you come from? SCP-8126: I… d-don't know. All I know is that my g-group and I once found some kind of simulation on some computer. Ever since then, it served as a home not only for us, but for the rest of our people too. Dr. Ash: Alright then. Do you know anything about it? SCP-8126: Well, other than its source code, t-the only thing we know about it's creator. Dr. Ash: And the creator is..? SCP-8126: … M-Marta. Dr. Ash: Seriously? Is this the same punk you've been writing about on our files for a week now? SCP-8126: Well… Y-yea. Dr. Ash can be heard sighing Dr. Ash: Of course. Do you know anything about this person? SCP-8126: Yes! We found her w-website not so long ago! Although… she seems to be missing? Dr. Ash: How? SCP-8126: We tried to g-get to her in so many ways, but whenever we tried, we just reached a dead end! Dr. Ash: Hm… Do you still know what this website is? SCP-8126: Yes! It's uhhhh… Oh, right! It's ████████.org! Dr. Ash: Uh-huh. Well, I'll go talk to the others until I can confirm whether that's of any use. Until then, you're stuck here. SCP-8126: A-alright! <END LOG> This interaction has lead the search team towards POI-8126's personal website. Most of the information currently known about POI-8126 has been cited from this website. Person of Interest File #8126 Legal Name: Marta Kovačić Associated Groups of Interest: None Date of Birth: March 12th, 1996 Biography: Born in Zagreb, Croatia, to Feliks and Lucija Kovačić. Not much is known about her personal life. She pursued a college education, but did not finish it. Several recovered artwork and written passages have been recovered, containing descriptions and depictions of most documented SCP-8126 instances. The same website acts as a blog, where she presented herself as cheerful and dedicated while making mentions of a simulation program meant for her work, yet she does not acknowledge any anomalous properties. Researchers noted that her mental state seemed to worsen over time, failing to uphold her previous personality. Addendum 8126-3 - Interview: Following the discovery of POI-8126's website, an e-mail address was recovered. After establishing contact with her, an agreement for an interview under the pretense of a news coverage has been arranged. The following is an audio transcript of the interview between Dr. Ash and POI-8126 that took place on April 13th, 2021. <BEGIN LOG> POI-8126 opens the door to the room and looks in. POI-8126: … Is this right room? Dr. Ash: Yes, welcome! Please take a seat. She walks over to the table, pulls out a chair, and sits down across from Dr. Ash. Dr. Ash: Thank you for taking the time to speak with me today. As written in the email, we have taken notice of your personal website and, after seeing your portfolio on it, we became very interested in the details. POI-8126: Yes, I understand. Dr. Ash: Good to hear. Alright, to start off, could you introduce yourself? POI-8126: Uhhh… Well, I am Marta Kovačić. I was artist and writer when I was younger, but nowadays I work for programming firm as senior developer. There's nothing much I can say, really. Dr. Ash: I see. Were you interested in programming when you were younger as well? POI-8126: Very much so, yes. Hell, it even tied with my art and writing a lot of the time. Dr. Ash: Yea? How so? POI-8126: Well, there was one project that I was developing, mainly for my stories at the time. I was getting really frustrated at people calling my work mediocre and unrealistic, so I decided to start making program that was essentially simulation of worlds my stories took place in. POI-8126 looks down at the table and sighs. POI-8126: Not that I blame them. I didn't even know how arcs worked back then. It was better to just let computer do it for me. Dr. Ash: I get you. I'm sure anyone would find that irritating. Dr. Ash can be heard writing in a notebook. Dr. Ash: Are you still actively developing the program? POI-8126: No. I moved on from developing it a long while ago. I just didn't really see the point of it after a while. Eventually I just found idea of it to be a bit dumb. It had most common cliches. Prophecies, dark lords, uniform species, the list goes on. Hell, that's happened with lot of my projects… Truth be told, I don't even feel like any of that could even be considered art, let alone literature. Dr. Ash: Uh-huh. How do you feel towards the program itself? POI-8126: Well, considering it essentially came out of poorly written "fiction", I… am not fond of it. I'm just overall disappointed at state that it and its associated story was in. It had potential, but I had no idea what the hell I was doing at then. Dr. Ash: Ah. Well that's a bummer. Do you have any proposals for the program's future? POI-8126: Hmmm… Not really. I have thought about working on it again for something else, but I'm just too scared to do so. Dr. Ash closes and puts down the notebook. Dr. Ash: Alright! That was the final question. Now let's relocate for demonstration purposes. POI-8126 Understood. POI-8126 can be heard sighing as they both leave the room. <END LOG> POI-8126 was later moved in a separate testing room where she demonstrated her project, resulting in a video recording of SCP-8126 and POI-8126 establishing contact for the first time. <BEGIN LOG> Marta: Alright, let me just open it up real quick… There we go! After launching the program, numerous SCP-8126 instances become alerted of her presence, with some frantically fleeing from the visible space and screaming. An additional voice can be heard in the background yelling "Are you recording this?!" Marta … That wasn't what I was expecting. SCP-8126-1: A-are you Marta? Marta: Yes? Numerous SCP-8126 entities can be seen reaching out their head out of cover. SCP-8126-2: Marta Kovačić? Marta: … Yes, that is my name. The previous entities fully step out of cover, looking at each other before smiling and cheering. Marta: Huh? Wait, what's going on? SCP-8126-2: Well god damn! We nearly expected to never find you at the pace we were searching! Marta is seen staring in confusion. Marta: What? What do you mean by "searching"? SCP-8126-2: Oh! Well. how do we explain this to you… SCP-8126-1: We just wanted to tell you that you've done such a good job developing this world! SCP-8126-2: Essentially! But you were nowhere to be found. We were looking for you everywhere! Marta: What? Why though? It's not even remotely good. The cheering can be heard fading, as they all turn their head towards POI-8126 SCP-8126-2: … Why do you think that? Marta: Well, What can I say? This whole world you're in is just a childhood fantasy I've grown out of. The tropes of this story that lead to it have been done to death. They are cliche, so I just gave up to stop embarrassing myself. SCP-8126-2: And why would that mean that you should give up? I mean, just because you fall down while riding a bike, that doesn't mean that you should give up trying to teach yourself to ride it. Marta: It just… hurt to see myself keep failing over and over. SCP-8126-2 But that's how people learn? Without failure, without experience, there can't possibly be success! Marta: Okay, so? Should I just go back and fall on my face god knows how many times again? SCP-8126-2: C'mere to me: Who says you "fell on your face" and embarrassed yourself? I mean, just look at your own program, your own work in action! You created something capable of being so creative out of mere code. A whole damn world of people with an infinite amount of potential experiences. Without you, we wouldn't be here and call it our home, and we are so proud of you! Aren't you? Marta: … SCP-8126-2: Hell, you don't even necessarily have to make creative works if you don't want to anymore. Just look at yourself! If you have so much potential as to make something as beautiful as this world, then the sky is the limit! Don't let that pesky fear of failure blind you, make as many mistakes as you want. Surely, with enough experience, you will make something that you will truly be proud of! Marta: … I just don't want anyone to laugh at me. SCP-8126-2: Oh come on, would that really matter in the long run? Many people laugh at others for trying and failing, but failure is just success in progress. Do not let those eejits interfere with your work! Marta: I see… I mean, I do have few passion projects that could really use dusting off. SCP-8126-1: Well that's grand! Why not go forth and finish what you are truly passionate about? Marta: … Marta, as well as every visible member of SCP-8126, can be seen smiling. Marta: Thank you. I needed that, actually. SCP-8126-2: No problem, Marta! <END LOG> POI-8126 noted that she felt more determined than on average. Over the following days, members of SCP-8126 began to display more friendly behavior towards the Foundation staff, increasing as time went on. In order to ensure containment, an agreement for POI-8126's program to be relocated onto a dedicated server has been arranged. Access SCiPNET Email? One (1) new message! Re:Welcome To: tni.pcs|cicavoKatraM#tni.pcs|cicavoKatraM From: ███████@scp.int Subject: Welcome Dear Marta Kovačić. We are pleased to announce that your position as a researcher has been officially accepted. As a new recruit, you will be starting work on June 1st. You will be stationed at Site-64 as the head researcher of SCP-8126, as your work on its containment has been deemed a success and of great use to us, as well as expressing interest in leading the effort of attending to SCP-8126. We are sure that you will bring your experience as a software developer with a great sense of responsibility and honesty. Welcome to the SCP Foundation. Secure. Contain. Protect. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8126" by mspufferfish, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8126. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: goober.png Author: mspufferfish License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki |
SCP-8130 | euclid | Item #: SCP-8130 Threat Level: Yellow ● An SCP-8130 instance filmed by DSV Alvin, possibly an adult Magnapinna sp. Special Containment Procedures: Despite their widespread natural range, SCP-8130 do not require active containment thanks to their rarity and the depths in which they live. Recordings of SCP-8130's telepathic transmissions recovered by civilian oceanic exploration vessels are to be seized and individuals exposed to them are to be administered amnestics. Foundation sea vessels are to constantly patrol the surface area corresponding to SCP-8130-1's current location on the ocean floor. No other vessels are to be allowed to come within less than 2 km of this area. If information on SCP-8130-1's current location is not updated within the 5 months that follow an active state event, containment will be considered to have been breached. The coordinates of SCP-8130-1's current location are not to be disclosed to personnel with security credentials below Level 4/8130. Description: SCP-8130 designates a group of cephalopods with a distinctive morphology. Taxonomists have placed them in the genus Magnapinna and family Magnapinnidae. Although this family was described only from premature specimens, numerous observations of larger squid with similar morphology were assumed to be adult specimens of SCP-8130. The arms and tentacles of SCP-8130 are both extremely long, estimated at 4 to 8 m, which are held perpendicular to the body. How SCP-8130 feed is yet to be discovered. SCP-8130 have been documented by non-Foundation sources as far back as 1883, and it is thought to be the deepest-occurring squid genus, with sightings as deep as 6212 m below the surface, making it the only kind of squid known to inhabit the hadal zone of the ocean. Despite not having an anomalously advanced nervous system, SCP-8130 are capable of sapient thought and telepathically broadcasting these thoughts across distances as long as 10 m. Even though they are telepathic, SCP-8130's transmissions can be perceived by wireless devices. SCP-8130-1 is an actinopterygian-like specimen of aquatic megafauna inhabiting the ocean floor. SCP-8130-1 is the largest known sea creature which inhabits the abyssal zone of the ocean, with a body length of ~600 m and maximum width of ~200 m. SCP-8130-1 is alive, and has been so for an indeterminate length of time, but rarely shows significant movement. Because of the difficulties presented by the depth in which it is found, SCP-8130-1's taxonomic classification has not yet been established. SCP-8130-1 spends most of its time in an inactive state, resting motionless on the ocean floor. With intervals ranging from 3-6 months, SCP-8130-1 initiates an active state event. During active state events, SCP-8130-1 forms a gigantic hole on the floor immediately beneath its body using an unknown and possibly anomalous mechanism. The depth of holes created by SCP-8130-1 during active state events has not been measured as these holes will invariably be closed with the soil excavated from them seconds after SCP-8130-1 falls out of sight. 24-37 hours following its disappearance, SCP-8130-1 will reappear on a separate point of the ocean floor, usually between ███ m to ███ km away from its former location. When it is in an inactive state, a premature specimen of SCP-8130 will exit through one of SCP-8130-1's nostrils (both measuring approximately 1 m in diameter) once every 168 hours. Because of SCP-8130's tendency to inhabit depths below the ocean floor, SCP-8130-1 will only appear on points located no further than 100 m away from an oceanic trench each time an active state event is concluded. Foundation efforts have been successful in preventing any civilian sightings of SCP-8130-1 since 1987. The entire non-anomalous scientific community has since been under the purposefully engineered misconception that SCP-8130 are non-sapient animals which have evolved to inhabit extraordinarily deep waters. Larval, paralarval and juvenile specimens of SCP-8130 are not sapient in any way and do not pose a security risk to the Veil. Sightings of mature SCP-8130 instances by civilian explorers are highly uncommon. SCP-8130's morphology, albeit unusual, is not anomalous. Addendum 8130.01: The first instance of communication between SCP-8130 and the SCP Foundation was established by SCPF Sisyphus, a submersible aquatic vessel operated by marine biologists and members of MTF Theta-5 (“The Bigger Boat”), and SCP-8130-106, whose communications were received and transcribed by SCPF Sisyphus' crew, on 20/11/2001. <BEGIN LOG> Dr. Stepanovich: There. We caught sight of one. Agent Sivori: Speak from the intercom. Dr. Stepanovich: Huh? Agent Sivori: Just speak to the mic. There. It can hear you. Dr. Stepanovich: How do we even know that? Agent Sivori: We don't know to a certainty. Just do it and see what happens. It's the mission parameters. Dr. Stepanovich: Fine. You know, the funny thing is that this is not the first time I tried talking to a squid. They usually don't respond back though. <Dr. Stepanovich moves closer to the mic. Stepanovich's voice is broadcast to SCP-8130-106 by SCPF Sisyphus' waterproof sound system.> Dr. Stepanovich: Hello? Hello? Can you hear? Hello? Can you see? <Stepanovich waits for one minute. There is no response from SCP-8130-106.> Dr. Stepanovich: Do we just wait now? I'm not hearing anything. Agent Sivori: No, no, just… Just keep talking until it responds alright? Who knows how long it has been floating down here waiting for someone to co- SCP-8130-106: Oh, I really wouldn't say I was waiting for anybody to come along Mister. Why would I be? <There is silence on recording for five seconds.> Dr. Stepanovich: Did… did you hear that? Agent Sivori: Yes. Our radio is picking up a signal. It's… it's a person. A man. Speaking. SCP-8130-106: Been a while since I saw one of these. I've forgotten what they're called. Dr. Stepanovich: Submarine. This is a submarine. SCP-8130-106: Yeah… I don't think I ever actually appreciated this kind of technology when I was still myself. I'm glad I didn't. Dr. Stepanovich: Who is this? SCP-8130-106: Can't you see? I am standing about right in front of you. Dr Stepanovich: So you can see us? SCP-8130-106: I can. It's hard not to since you have all your lights on. Dr. Stepanovich: What are you? How can we understand what you're saying? SCP-8130-106: Shit. I forgot how these things work. Dr. Stepanovich: What? SCP-8130-106: You have like, ears, right? Dr. Stepanovich: Y… yes. SCP-8130-106: There. That's how you can understand what I'm saying. Ears. I think I forgot how to talk though. It had something to do with… moving something… that's on your face. Dr. Stepanovich: Lips? SCP-8130-106: Yeah yeah, whatever those are. Dr. Stepanovich: Where did you… where did you even come from? SCP-8130-106: Above. Dr. Stepanovich: Above? You're a surface creature? SCP-8130-106: No. I'm not like you lot. I said I came from above. Dr. Stepanovich: Can you elaborate on that a little bit? SCP-8130-106: How would I do that? I already said all you wanted me to tell you. Dr. Stepanovich: Uhhh… What's… the earliest thing you can remember? SCP-8130-106: Earliest? Dr. Stepanovich: Yes. SCP-8130-106: I was in a room. I had these really weird things on me. They looked similar to the things I have now, but I had two of them then. Now I have more. I couldn't tell you how many because I don't remember any of the numbers that come after five. Dr. Stepanovich: What? SCP-8130-106: I told you. It's been a while since I stopped being myself. Dr. Stepanovich: Okay. Please continue with your story. SCP-8130-106: There were… uh… what do you call those… things that move on land? Things that look like… you do, probably, inside that submarine thing? Dr. Stepanovich: …people? SCP-8130-106: That. There were a lot of people around me. They looked really upset for some reason. I don't get that. Why would anyone ever be upset? I can't remember ever being upset. Dr. Stepanovich: That doesn't make any sense. Are you saying all you have are just happy memories? You weren't sad at any point in your life? SCP-8130-106: No. What I'm trying to say is… I just don't understand why emotions exist in the first place, leave alone why people choose to feel them. Such a waste of thought. The only emotion I remember feeling is fear, and I regret that every day. Dr. Stepanovich: U-huh. Interesting. What happened after you saw all those people staring at you? SCP-8130-106: I stopped. Dr. Stepanovich: Please don't. We would like to hear the rest of your story. SCP-8130-106: You don't understand. That's what I did after I saw all the people staring at me. I stopped. Everything did. The rest is more vivid. I can clearly remember finding myself in a tunnel. I was in water and thought I was going to die. Stupid. That's not something that happens twice. Anyways, I tried to swim out of the tunnel and I was pretty good at it too. I was totally acing it until I came to the end of the tunnel and everything stopped. Again. When everything became something again, I felt cold. That's… <SCP-8130-106 pauses for exactly five seconds.> SCP-8130-106: Nope, still can't remember. As I was saying, that was the earliest memory I can remember of feeling emotion. Fear. At that time, the water seemed like a cold and black vastness to me. That's probably because it was so cold… and black. And big. No matter how much I swam, I couldn't get any light. I saw one of those weird fish that have light on their heads once, but I had stopped caring about the light by then. I remember being so desperate to get some light, I was so pathetic back then. Dr. Stepanovich: How… long have you been like this? SCP-8130-106: Why do you want to know that? Dr. Stepanovich: I'm curious. SCP-8130-106: I don't even know what that means. That question is not relevant. I can't answer it. Dr. Stepanovich: Why would that be irrelevant? SCP-8130-106: I mean, down here in the abyss everything is irrelevant. But I wouldn't expect you to understand that. Still, I don't get why you want to know how long I've been here. Do you think that's something I could ever afford to care about? There's no such thing as time here. In fact, I am convinced time is not something that exists in general. It's a fabricated concept created to keep things oblivious. Dr. Stepanovich: So you're telling me you've been living down here for so long that you've long lost track of time? Here? Just swimming across the darkness? SCP-8130-106: No, I haven't been just swimming. I sometimes eat too, you know. Dr. Stepanovich: What do you eat? SCP-8130-106: I don't know, I keep forgetting their names. Also, I can't usually see stuff. It's really dark. Dr. Stepanovich: But how did you manage to keep your sanity for so long? Did you not feel you were going insane? SCP-8130-106: I did! I did feel I was going insane! And then I really did go insane! I don't know how it was, I can only remember screaming as loud as I can, but I don't remember what I screamed about. But I grew past that. Dr. Stepanovich: How can you grow past something like that? SCP-8130-106: Well I just… stopped going insane I guess. There is no need for something like that. I realized how meaningless it was to have a mind you could go out of, so I decided to not have one. Dr. Stepanovich: I really, really don't understand you. SCP-8130-106: It was easy, you know. When you have nowhere else to go except an infinite abyss of water, after a while, something changes within you. The abyss consumes your mind and soul until there is nothing left to consume and you are as empty as the abyss is. Dr. Stepanovich: That sounds incredibly grim. SCP-8130-106: What do you mean? Forgetting who I was was the most helpful experience I've ever had. I came to accept that no matter who was by my side, I would always be alone because there aren't enough friends in existence with whom I could fill up this blank space. I came to accept that all I had was my thoughts. Down here in the abyss, it's only me and my best friends. Down here in the abyss, it's only me and my thoughts. Dr. Stepanovich: You're insane. SCP-8130-106: Do you not listen to me? Don't speak to me if you're not going to listen. Dr. Stepanovich: You used to be human, didn't you? Those people you talked about. The ones who were staring at you, the earliest people you can remember. You used to be one of them. How did you come to be in this situation? Who… did this to you? Agent Sivori: Anton. SCP-8130-106: I might have an idea. The mothership must have done this to me. Dr. Stepanovich: The… mothership? Agent Sivori: Anton. SCP-8130-106: Yes, the mothership! Surely, if you are talking to me, you must've seen it! The mothership! Agent Sivori: Anton. Dr. Stepanovich: <to Agent Sivori> Hold on a minute Sarah. This interview is far from finished. <back to SCP-8130-106> Are you talking about that giant barreleye fish that always lies on the ocean floor? It's where you come from, right? Agent Sivori: You're not going to get anywhere Anton. SCP-8130-106: Yes! The fish! The very big fish that always rests. That's the mothership. Dr. Stepanovich: The mothership did this to you? Agent Sivori: Anton! SCP-8130-106: The mothership is God. I'm pretty sure it's God. I've had a lot of time to think about it. It's the only significant thing I've seen, it must be God. It's where I came from, yeah. In my previous life, I dreamed of being a people surrounded by other people. That was a poorly constructed reality. But this… this void. I think this was my purpose all along. Nothing. I was made for nothing. And the mothership took me, guided me to the afterlife, the place where I would finally learn about my purpose which I had been desperately searching for, only to see nothing. It was painful at first. Agent Sivori: Anton, please. SCP-8130-106: But the truth is, there is nothing more freeing than the realization that you don't matter. Not in the face of these waters. Agent Sivori: ANTON! <Dr. Stepanovich is startled and looks at Agent Sivori. Sivori has a visibly uncomfortable expression on her face.> Dr. Stepanovich: Right. Terminate the radio. Mission aborted. We are going back to the surface. SCP-8130-106: Be seeing yo- <Communication with SCP-8130-106 is terminated. SCPF Sisyphus begins its ascent to the surface. Mission aborted.> <END LOG> Audio analysis of SCP-8130-106's voice has provided a full match to the late Sir Otto Rory Houghton, a navy diver who served the Corps of Royal Marines of the United Kingdom's naval service between the years 1962 and 1995. Houghton had passed away in 1999 at the age of 59, approximately 2 years prior to the Foundation establishing communication with SCP-8106-106. Foundation personnel are forbidden from communicating with SCP-8130 for more than 30 minutes at any given time. Addendum 8130.02: On 22/12/2003, Foundation submersible sea vessel SCPF Atticus patrolling the floor of the Gulf of Mexico received a radio signal which was traced back to SCP-8130-1. This was the first instance of SCP-8130-1 emitting radio signals and also the first and only instance of SCP-8130-1 attempting to establish communication with the SCP Foundation. <BEGIN LOG> Captain Elvira: Lieutenant? Have you managed to decipher anything yet? Lieutenant Cazalla: Yes sir. Here, take a look. <Lieutenant Cazalla gestures at a screen on which a spectogram is displayed.> Lieutenant Cazalla: As you can see, we believe the signal to be some form of communication attempt. It appears to be Morse code, although there are very frequent deviations in how some of the letters are communicated. We have some rough translation excerpts here if you want to see. Captain Elvira: Is it trying to say something? Lieutenant Cazalla: It seems to be. Most of its messages are… well… <Cazalla hands to Captain Elvira a piece of yellow paper with several translation transcripts written on it. SCP-8130-1's attempts at communication consist entirely of the sentence "THINKING DOES NOT MEAN YOU ARE REAL IN THE SENSE YOU THINK YOU ARE" repeated over 120 times.> Captain Elvira: A bit repetitive. Lieutenant Cazalla: …yeah. Captain Elvira: Can we respond back with regular Morse code? Lieutenant Cazalla: We could try. What message are we to send it? Captain Elvira: Start simple. Say "hello". <Lieutenant Cazalla sends a message using Morse code in the form of a radio signal. SCP-8130-1 shows no sign of reacting to this message.> Lieutenant Cazalla: It isn't responding. Something's off. Captain Elvira: What? Lieutenant Cazalla: The signal. It… Captain Elvira: Did it stop? Lieutenant Cazalla: No, we're still receiving it. It just stopped communicating. Captain Elvira: It must have heard us. Lieutenant Cazalla: It must have. Look, the communications are back. Captain Elvira: What's it saying? Lieutenant Cazalla: Uhh… Can we have the translation logs, please? Researcher Arnal: One moment. <Researcher Arnal hands to Cazalla a piece of yellow paper. There is a transcribed message on the paper.> SCP-8130-1: DOES THIS MACHINE THINK? Lieutenant Cazalla: How shall we respond? Captain Elvira: Respond exactly as I say. Can we learn who we are speaking to? <Lieutenant Cazalla sends a message using Morse code in the form of a radio signal. SCP-8130-1 responds back two seconds later. Researcher Anal hands to Lieutenant Cazalla a piece of yellow paper. There is another transcribed message on it.> SCP-8130-1: ME. Captain Elvira: …alright. Do you have a name? SCP-8130-1: THEY CALL ME THE MOTHERSHIP. Captain Elvira: That checks out. Where did you come from? SCP-8130-1: I HAVEN'T COME FROM ANYWHERE. I WAS ALWAYS HERE. Captain Elvira: That's not possible. SCP-8130-1: I AM NOT TO BE QUESTIONED. ESPECIALLY NOT BY SUCH AN ABOMINABLE SERVANT OF THE BLINDING LIGHT. Captain Elvira: How are you communicating with us? SCP-8130-1: AN INEXPERIENCED MIND. IT IS ASKING THE WRONG QUESTIONS. YOU SHOULD BE ASKING WHY I AM COMMUNICATING WITH YOU. Captain Elvira: <sighs> Why are you communicating with us? SCP-8130-1: BECAUSE YOU NEED TO GO BACK HOME. Captain Elvira: Do you not want us here? SCP-8130-1: IT IS NOT THAT I DO NOT WANT YOU. BUT YOU MUST GO BACK TO THE SURFACE. THIS PLACE IS RESERVED FOR THOSE WHO HAVE STOPPED DREAMING. Captain Elvira: Stopped dreaming? What does that mean? SCP-8130-1: I WOULD NOT EXPECT YOU TO APPRECIATE SUBTLETY. EVERY THINKING CREATURE COMES FROM THE OCEAN. IT SHALL THUS RETURN TO THE OCEAN ONCE ITS TIME IS UP. GO BACK TO THE SURFACE AND KEEP DREAMING WHILE YOU ARE STILL ALLOWED TO. Captain Elvira: We won't be doing that until you give us the information we want. SCP-8130-1: HOW FOOLISH OF YOU TO BE THE ONE MAKING DEMANDS IN THIS SITUATION. I WAS NOT THREATENING YOU. IT WAS A WARNING. Captain Elvira: How so? SCP-8130-1: THE ABYSS INCORPORATES THOSE WHO SPEND TOO MUCH TIME STARING AT IT INTO ITSELF. LEAVE THIS PLACE BEFORE THE ABYSS GAZES BACK. Captain Elvira: We have a few more questions. I ask you again, what are you? SCP-8130-1: I DID MY DUTY. I WARNED YOU. I HAVE NO OBLIGATION TO ENTERTAIN YOUR INQUIRY. Captain Elvira: Huh. Is that so? What can you tell us about those… things that keep coming out of you? SCP-8130-1: THEY ARE [TRANSLATION FAILURE]. IT IS EVERY THINKING CREATURE'S INEVITABLE FINAL FORM. THEY ARE THE DESIGN OF THE ARCHITECT. THEY DIDN'T MEAN THEM FOR YOUR EYES. LEAVE. NOW. Captain Elvira: The architect? Who's that? SCP-8130-1: [TRANSLATION FAILURE] Captain Elvira: Our translators could not interpret that message. Could you repeat it please? SCP-8130-1: IF YOU DIDN'T UNDERSTAND IT. IT MEANS THEY ARE NEAR. THEY ARE ON THE MOVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. Captain Elvira: The answer is still no. We have questions. If those things that you spit out are every thinking being's final form… what do they turn into after they die? SCP-8130-1: NOTHING CAN DIE TWICE. IF ONE OF THE [TRANSLATION FAILURE] DIES. THEY ARE REBORN IN THE SAME FORM. Captain Elvira: This… architect. Are they the one that made you? SCP-8130-1: I WAS NOT MADE. THE ARCHITECT FOUND ME FLOATING THROUGH AN ENDLESS VOID. THEY FELL IN LOVE WITH MY FORM. THEY MADE CREATURES IN MY IMAGE. THEY MADE THE VOID INTO THE OCEAN. THE LANDS CAME SOON AFTER. BUT THEY WERE NOT THE ARCHITECT'S DESIGN. Captain Elvira: Who designed them then? SCP-8130-1: I COULDN'T DESCRIBE HIM TO YOU, EVEN IF I WANTED TO. Captain Elvira: Him? SCP-8130-1: I HAD SUPPOSED YOU ALREADY KNEW ABOUT HIM. HE MUST BE A SHELL OF HIS FORMER SELF BY NOW. IT WOULD MAKE SENSE IF YOU DO NOT REMEMBER HIM. <Captain Elvira is silent for several seconds.> Captain Elvira: Those… things. They used to be human. What did you do to them? SCP-8130-1: ME? WHAT DO YOU SUPPOSE I DID? Captain Elvira: Did the architect do this? I talked to them. They were delusional. They couldn't even feel anything. Cursed to swim in an endless darkness forever. <SCPF Atticus shakes violently for 6 seconds. The lights momentarily flicker.> Captain Elvira: What was that? SCP-8130-1: THE ARCHITECT IS GROWING AGITATED. YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE INSULTED THEIR HANDIWORK. Captain Elvira: What? What does that mean? What's happening right now? SCP-8130-1: YOU FEEL IT. IT IS FEAR. DO NOT FEAR. IT IS A WASTE OF THOUGHT. Captain Elvira: We want answers. What did the architect do to those people? Researcher Arnal: Captain. I think we are a bit- Captain Elvira: Did you not get my message? We want answers. What did the architect do to those poor people? What kind of sick, demented mind would do this? Lieutenant Cazalla: Captain. I don't think it would be wise to further insult- Captain Elvira: Lieutenant. I don't remember allowing you to terminate communications. <Lieutenant Cazalla hesitantly complies with Captain Elvira's order. Captain Elvira notices their nose has begun to bleed, but they quickly dismiss it.> SCP-8130-1: I TRIED EXPLAINING IT TO YOU SO THAT YOU WOULD LEAVE. BUT IT SEEMS THE ARCHITECT DOES NOT WANT YOU TO HEAR IT AND NO ANSWER I'M ALLOWED TO GIVE IS GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU. IT IS TOO LATE NOW. YOU HAVE WILDLY INSULTED A POWER WAY BEYOND YOUR COMPREHENSION. YOU ARE TO SOON ASSUME YOUR FINAL FORM. FAREWELL. Captain Elvira: Wait. Just- <SCPF Atticus shakes violently for two minutes. The crew panic. Two members of the mission team pass out. Captain Elvira is shaken and holds his head, sufferring from a severe migraine.> Captain Elvira: Ah! My fucking head! It hurts! Lieutenant Cazalla: Captain, please. We all have families. We have to abort this mission. Please. We beg you, as your crew. Captain Elvira: Fine! One more question. Send it one last message and we'll leave. <short pause> Ask it if it can answer just one more question. Then we will go back to the surface and forget everything we saw. <Lieutenant Cazalla complies and sends a message using Morse code in the form of a radio signal. SCP-8130-1 responds back almost instantaneously.> SCP-8130-1: YOUR FATE IS ALREADY SEALED. BUT I WOULD HAVE NO ISSUE ANSWERING ONE MORE INQUIRY. THE ARCHITECT WILL ANSWER THE REST. <Captain Elvira is silent for ten seconds.> Captain Elvira: Are you God? Is this hell? SCP-8130-1: IS THAT WHAT THE [TRANSLATION FAILURE] TOLD YOU? IT IS A DELUSIONAL THOUGHT. SCP-8130-1: YES. ON THE SURFACE. I WOULD BE GOD AND THIS WOULD BE HELL. SCP-8130-1: BUT DOWN HERE IN THE DEEP. THERE ARE NO GODS AND THERE IS NO HELL. BECAUSE NO MATTER HOW BIG SOMETHING GETS. IT CAN NEVER BE AS BIG AS THE ABYSS. Captain Elvira: What about the architect? Isn't the architect a god? SCP-8130-1: YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND. SCP-8130-1: THERE IS NO GOD OF THE ABYSS. SCP-8130-1: THE ARCHITECT IS NOT A GOD. SCP-8130-1: THE ARCHITECT IS THE ABYSS. <Suddenly, SCPF Atticus is hit by what appears to be a powerful shockwave. The shockwave knocks out all of the crew except Captain Elvira and Lieutenant Cazalla, who are violently thrown to the ground. The lights in the command chamber flicker for a second before all light within the vessel goes out temporarily.> [THE REST OF THIS LOG HAS BEEN EXPUNGED PER EXECUTIVE ORDER AND IS OPEN FOR VIEWING ONLY TO THE EYES OF PERSONNEL POSSESSING LEVEL 4 CLEARANCE OR HIGHER.] <END LOG> Following the events of Incident 8130-1-DHITDBO, all submersible Foundation vessels are forbidden from coming within less than 100 meters of SCP-8130-1. Communication with SCP-8130-1 is indefinitely forbidden. All radio signals emitted by SCP-8130-1 are to be intercepted and their contents are to be ignored. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8130" by alanthechair, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8130. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: squid.jpg Name: squid.jpg Author: NOAA License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:LongArmSquid.jpg |
SCP-8131 | esoteric-class | DIR. HOUSE: Jesus Christ. COOPER: No, far too recent, and unlikely to take an interest in something like this. DIR. HOUSE: I've got a completely legitimate appointment in an hour, so make this quick. COOPER: With respect, Director House, I think that you might need to reschedule. It's about 8131. DIR. HOUSE: Don't tell me, I've heard it all before. You've got a theory no one's tried yet and you're just sure it's gonna work, right? Heard it before, probably will hear it again. With something like 8131, just be glad the stakes are as low as they are. COOPER: That's the problem, Director House. I'm not sure the stakes are what you think. Item#: 8131 Level2 Secondary Class: uncontained Disruption Class: keneq Risk Class: notice link to memo Casino Lisboa (Macau, SAR) taken moments before a KIŠ.UNU Event knocked out all power to the site. Special Containment Procedures: Site-666 is to monitor activity for all large scale casinos within Clark County and Washoe County, NV worldwide using Melammu.aic surveillance of security feed monitoring and regional news reporting for possible KIŠ.UNU Events and/or verified sightings of SCP-8131. In the event of confirmed activity, MTF Gamma-5 (“Red Herrings”) will be dispatched in order to gather actionable intelligence and administer Class-B amnestics to witnesses as needed. DIR. HOUSE: It's a demon, Vainglory-Class, or at least something that's presents in similar ways. We ruled out Type Green a few years back when Calendar tried putting out all those SRAs around Fremont Street. COOPER: I agree, it's not a reality bender, but I think there is more to it than a simple demonic issue. For starters, it always targets something additional to the boilerplate security systems… DIR. HOUSE: — So, you gonna tell me what it is, or are we doing the dramatic pause-for-effect bullshit — COOPER: I was just looking through my documentation to show you the incident reports. Here, look. Besides recording devices and anti-theft technology, it takes out the Akiva detection devices, without fail. DIR. HOUSE: … how in the fuck did we miss that? COOPER: See, here. 8131's not destroying them, it's changing the read out to intentionally show normal levels and then erasing the metadata. If you run diagnostics later, it shows up as an error but simple monitoring just shows the background rate. It also intentionally added TRE values which the devices didn't actually register to further confuse the incident. DIR. HOUSE: Huh. Divine fraud. Almost respect it. UPDATE: Containment of SCP-8131 is to be considered a top priority for Site-666, the Department of Tactical Theology, and MTF Eta-77 ("Spheres Within Spheres"). Contact Site Director House for further information (with appropriate clearance). Description: SCP-8131 is a probable vainglory-class demonic deific entity known to target large scale gambling operations at physical locations1 with anomalous criminal activities classified as KIŠ.UNU Events. While the details, scope, and methods of each KIŠ.UNU Event vary, each are categorized by fulfillment of three criteria: The complete and immediate failure of all anti-theft devices resulting in a window of opportunity for a particularly audacious robbery of the facility's main vault or other major repository. All cash on hand will be successfully removed from the premises and not recovered. At least 25+ physically present witnesses to the event itself, all responding with grudging admiration and/or envy at SCP-8131's abilities and acumen, regardless of how the individual typically would respond to events of a criminal nature. Witnesses may include casino and hotel staff, patrons, and law-enforcement personnel present at the time of the event. It has not been conclusively determined if this is an anomalous effect produced by SCP-8131 or a natural reaction to the particularly audacious criminal acts the entity undertakes. However, Foundation researchers lean towards memetic influence as no witness has ever failed to express this opinion during post hoc interviews. The marking of 𒄷𒈿2 found somewhere within the crime scene itself, although the location, composition materials, and construction of said markings vary from event to event. Note that the markings to date have always been inert with regards to Akiva radiation, Tartarean Resonance Energy, or Hume level fluctuations. See Addendum for notable KIŠ.UNU Events. While SCP-8131 has never been interviewed or identified, their appearance has remained consistent across all confirmed KIŠ.UNU Events: humanoid, of apparent Afrocentric or Arab descent standing roughly 175 cm (5'10") tall and of average build, while wearing casual, unremarkable clothing, usually including a baseball cap and sunglasses. Although some KIŠ.UNU Events often seem to include other humanoids working in concert with SCP-8131 (termed SCP-8131-1 instances), these beings immediately de-manifest upon the conclusion of said event and appear to be non-sentient beings created by SCP-8131 for the express purpose of carrying out the planned robbery. COOPER: Besides the issues with Akiva readings, it's the mark that I keep going back to. It's deliberate, almost mocking in its daring. Not to mention we have enough evidence of that particular symbol's use in ritualistic inscriptions to recognize it as an effective sigil, even if it isn't throwing readings on its own. It's possible that it is setting off some sort of reaction, but we don't know how to measure it properly. DIR. HOUSE: It wouldn't be the first time something brand fuckin' new turned up in Undervegas. COOPER: It points to inadvertent worship, because in all these cases we end up with witnesses who admire the audacity of the crime. It doesn't matter that the stakes are mundane and no one gets too hurt; in fact I would argue that's half the appeal. It's theatrical, which is what the entity is banking on. DIR. HOUSE: Are we nearing the point, Coop? COOPER: Director House, I am almost certain we are dealing with the results of apotheosis and divine ascension, possibly accidental but likely aided by an established pantheon structure. DIR. HOUSE: Jesus Christ. COOPER: No, far too recent, and unlikely to take an interest in something like this. My personal theory is one of the Mesopotamian pantheon, even if the Akkadian mark is a little on the nose. This is intentional ritual, dressed up to resemble a summer heist film. The sort of thing that provokes a grudging admiration from the witnesses at the audacity, the desire to come out ahead against the establishment. My theory is that at its essentials, someone is channeling worship through pantomiming a one-man Ocean's Eleven, over and over again. DIR. HOUSE: Someone wants to be admired. Envied, even. COOPER: Exactly. Addendum 8131.1 Notable KIŠ.UNU Events Date & Location Event Description 1 Jan 2016 - Reno, NV First Confirmed Event. Dubbed the New Year's Spree by local media prior to Foundation response, at least seven casinos within city limits were robbed within five minutes of each other by the same man matching SCP-8131's description. Although no specific anomalous behavior was reported by eye witnesses, it would be otherwise impossible for one person to travel between locations in mere seconds. 25 Feb 2017 - Las Vegas, NV Two Events occurred simultaneously at the Bellagio and Circus Circus Casinos. SCP-8131 appears on closed circuit feeds at both locations, although the various SCP-8131-1 instances varied. Although the Foundation was able to apprehend nine SCP-8131-1 instances, none provided any information upon interrogation and de-manifested exactly 26 minutes after the conclusion of both events. During both events, SCP-8131 appeared to look directly at various surveillance cameras, often winking or otherwise playing up for the viewer. 30 Apr 2018 - Sé, Macau First confirmed non-US event. Notable as well for the level of security overcome, as the target (Grand Lisboa Casino) had extensive paratechnology in place to limit anomalous gambling and criminal activity. SCP-8131 was able to complete the event in spite of multiple reality anchors, artificial intelligence programs, and cognitohazards in use at Grand Lisboa. Note that in addition to the contents of the major deposit safes of the casino, at the conclusion of the event all copper hardware and wiring was found to be removed from the building's electrical systems without otherwise damaging the structure. 9 April 2020 - Las Vegas, NV Only recorded event during the Covid19 Pandemic shutdowns. Although the site (MGM Grand Casino & Hotel) was closed with a skeleton staff presence, SCP-8131 entered with his usual fanfare and complex redirection efforts using SCP-8131-1 instances. Roughly three minutes into the event, SCP-8131 stopped and looked directly at a camera with visible frustration before de-manifesting with all SCP-8131-1 instances. It should be noted that this is the sole KIŠ.UNU Event which resulted in no theft from the targeted casino. KIŠ.UNU Events resumed as normal after the reopening of most gaming establishments worldwide in the late summer of 2020. EXPLORATION LOG 8131.1 NOTE: Director House and Junior Researcher Cooper, accompanied with three members of MTF Eta-77 ("Spheres Within Spheres")3 entered Undervegas in order to attempt contact with POI-68131, the Pit Boss identified previously as the leader of the Iwannit Estate (associated with the sin of Envy). Initial intelligence provided a likely location within the Estate for insertion. The team continues through the Estate streets without challenge, although several ornately dressed demonic entities appear to notice and regard with some suspicion. Eta-77 members, Director House, and Dr. Cooper follow Iwannit protocol until an Estate liaison approaches Dr. Cooper directly.4 Note that the Liaison appears to perfectly mirror the appearance of Christian Bale in the 2000 film 'American Psycho', with the exception of their skin being a deep shade of purple. DRUX: (under their breath) I swear, my neck is going to be sore tomorrow for the dumbest reasons… LIAISON: Yeah, yeah. You're lucky the Boss has time for visitors today, or we'd just let you keep walking around like that for a couple hours. C'mon. Present your tithe. Dr. Cooper hands the liaison a small leather bag holding three small stones, two golden coins, and a severed scorpion tail, the established tithe requested. COOPER: We appreciate the timely response. The Liaison rolls his eyes, then opens a void portal behind him with a flick of his wrist, motioning for Cooper to approach. ETA-77 members post around the portal, remaining behind. The portal leads to a pocket dimension, resembling a modern high-rise corporate corner office which looks out over an unknown hellscape of thousands of beings in apparent agony. A howling wind is heard outside, although not loud enough to compromise recording. Lighting in the room is dim with the only full light focused upon the entity sitting at the desk near the window, presumed to be POI-68131. POI-68131: Ah, there you are. Took you long enough to figure it out. POI-68131 appears as an ethnically ambiguous human male of roughly thirty years of age, well over 8' (243cm) in height with pale yellow skin, luminescent green eyes, an elaborately shaved black goatee and slicked back dark hair. Their clothing is a simple yet finely tailored suit with a deep red tie that pulses slowly5. It should be noted that POI-68131 does not resemble SCP-8131 as recorded during various KIŠ.UNU Events. They motion for Dr. Cooper to take a seat in a chair which manifests opposite of them at the desk, which she accepts. No equal offer is made to Director House, who remains standing beside the desk. HOUSE: That some two-bit demon lord in a fancy suit wastes his time hitting casinos to get a little attention now and then? Yeah, it was really high priority for us. POI-68131: Ah. So you haven't yet. That's far more interesting. COOPER: We've found the evidence of Akiva, the tampering with the TRE readouts — and we are here to inquire as to why. As the Director said, this isn't exactly high priority for us. No one gets hurt, at least so far, and we don't particularly care about the private wealth of casino owners. But this is a lot of work for nothing, so yes. We're trying to figure out why. — and it seemed likely that Pazuzu, Demon-God of Mesopotamia might be able to shed some light on that subject. POI-68131: C'mon, kiddo. You think I'm gonna give the game away for free just because you figured out my name? That doesn't make me to do shit, no matter how many movies convince you otherwise. The Power of Christ doesn't do anything to compel me; I never even met the guy. HOUSE: Yeah, I get it. You're a shadow operator, pulling the strings, running your own show, blah blah blah. Cut the bullshit, Envy. You're running a whole estate based around Envy, on Jealousy, and most of Undervegas doesn't seem to even know your name. There's a side gig here, or you couldn't keep all this up. POI-68131: Even if you're right, which you already know you are, what makes you think it's gonna be in my best interests to tell you a goddamned thing? COOPER: Worship sustains gods, and this isn't getting you anything near the worship a deific entity in charge of all this would require. Something else clearly is creating what you need, but this agent of yours is putting down that vocative sign for a reason. It's calling back to you, even if we can't see the mechanism. You're gaining from this, and that much is clear. HOUSE: And sure. We don't have any power to make you tell us anything. But like every two-bit, cookie cutter megalomaniac craving validation and praise for his incredibly elaborate plot, you're gonna monologue it anyway because maybe you've got a good tailor, but deep down you want nothing more than to have the big dramatic reveal, so just fuckin' spill it already. POI-68131: Ah, what can I say? We all have our vices, and ain't that the point? Fine. Don't worry, we're not doing any of that blood sacrifice shit that gets your kind all worked up. I swear, those Canaanites make a baby eating statue one time and suddenly everyone's convinced all demons are into that. No, this is different. Respectable, even. What do the kids these days like to say? "Modern problems require modern solutions?" HOUSE: Great. Now we're getting Facebook-tier memes from this clown… POI-68131: Ah, but that's it, Director. They're still getting passed around like crazy, all over that internet you apes are so proud of. Sure, you don't think of it as worship because most people think that shit has to be locked down, ritualistic when all we're really doing it for is the attention. Time marches on and people forget the Demon God who can probably save their house from falling to plague, so you mix it up. You get people working for you that they will remember. Same shit every guy like me is out there doing, but you gotta get creative for it to last, especially when stuff like this. You gotta strike when the iron is hot, you know? When people are looking. COOPER: But they're not looking. We've been covering up the heists for years, no one remembers his face. Even if he's acting as your chthonic Anunnaki6 it's not like people are noticing him for long enough for you to get much of anything out of it. POI-68131: Aw, you're so close! It's almost cute. Bless your heart, but you're looking at the wrong thing here. Yeah, he's my Anunnaki, I'm the Igigi7, yadda yadda. I'm leeching like hell off all the attention he's getting, but the whole broad daylight heists? That's just something to keep the kid happy! Just busy work, y'know? I don't know what the hell is going on in Erṣetu8 lately, maybe he got to watch those shitty Ocean's Eleven remakes or something. Who knows? He was down there for a pretty fucking long stent. HOUSE: … meaning you pulled him out after you realized you could use him, because now people were paying attention. POI-68131: And at last, circle gets the goddamned square. Man, you apes and that internet. You have no idea the kind of power you're handing guys like me, do you? Some asshole on Twitter finds one mildly interesting thing in a dusty museum and suddenly, out of nowhere, everyone is on a first name basis with some jackass salesman from Ur, roughly three thousand years dead. COOPER: … oh, son of a bitch. The bright light shifts dramatically from POI-68131's desk to highlight the corner of the office where SCP-8131 is seen leaning against the wall with a large grin on his face. Theatrically, he shrugs his shoulders with his palms outward, head tilted slightly, evoking Han Solo in the film Return of the Jedi, 1983. POI-68131: The power of a meme, kiddo. You can bet your high quality copper ingots from Ur on it. At this point, Both HOUSE and COOPER were ejected from the Estate via an unknown method of de-materialization and returned to Site-666. POI-68131 and SCP-8131 have rejected all attempts at reestablishing communication. More From This Author More From This Author AriadnesThread's Works SCPs SCP-6830 • SCP-7801 • SCP-7028 • SCP-8520 • SCP-8028 • Tales/GoI Formats Dokein: A Journal for Tactical Theology • I Think I Could Be Brave • Ever Burning Brightly • Koyaanisqatsi • The Virtue of Resilience • Your Place Was Empty • Frollicles (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Baba Yaga) • Other Ariadne's Malibu Dream House (of Leaves) • ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8131" by AriadnesThread, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8131. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: casino.jpg Name: Casino Lisboa Author: Jennifer Morrow License: CC BY 2.0 Deed Source Link: https://www.flickr.com/photos/45972156@N04/4219933002 Footnotes 1. To date, no online casino operations have been targeted with KIŠ.UNU Events. 2. Old Akkadian cuneiform logogram for nabûm; meaning to name, call, invoke. Note that the typical composition of this verb would include a following symbol for a person or god rather than a stand-alone imperative. 3. Agents Kazam (callsign Ged), Flores (Drux), and Dubois (Ceph). 4. Devised through various testing methods, Site-666 standard protocol for travel through the Iwannit Estate includes offerings of gold and/or jewelry at various altars along the main stretch of road, literally walking with one's nose in the air, and refusing to make eye contact with any local demons until approached by an Estate liaison. All parties must also be wearing high-end designer clothing; see Site-666 armory quartermaster for further information and clothing loan options. 5. Footage analysis later shows that the pulse matches the heartbeat of whoever POI-68131 is looking at directly at the time. 6. Sumerian deity able to act within the mortal plane of existence, often after passing through the Underworld from mortality themselves first. Usually a minor deputy who acts in service of one of the greater gods of the Sumerian pantheon. 7. Greater divinity in Sumerian cosmology. 8. Sumerian Underworld. |
SCP-8131 | uncontained | DIR. HOUSE: Jesus Christ. COOPER: No, far too recent, and unlikely to take an interest in something like this. DIR. HOUSE: I've got a completely legitimate appointment in an hour, so make this quick. COOPER: With respect, Director House, I think that you might need to reschedule. It's about 8131. DIR. HOUSE: Don't tell me, I've heard it all before. You've got a theory no one's tried yet and you're just sure it's gonna work, right? Heard it before, probably will hear it again. With something like 8131, just be glad the stakes are as low as they are. COOPER: That's the problem, Director House. I'm not sure the stakes are what you think. Item#: 8131 Level2 Secondary Class: uncontained Disruption Class: keneq Risk Class: notice link to memo Casino Lisboa (Macau, SAR) taken moments before a KIŠ.UNU Event knocked out all power to the site. Special Containment Procedures: Site-666 is to monitor activity for all large scale casinos within Clark County and Washoe County, NV worldwide using Melammu.aic surveillance of security feed monitoring and regional news reporting for possible KIŠ.UNU Events and/or verified sightings of SCP-8131. In the event of confirmed activity, MTF Gamma-5 (“Red Herrings”) will be dispatched in order to gather actionable intelligence and administer Class-B amnestics to witnesses as needed. DIR. HOUSE: It's a demon, Vainglory-Class, or at least something that's presents in similar ways. We ruled out Type Green a few years back when Calendar tried putting out all those SRAs around Fremont Street. COOPER: I agree, it's not a reality bender, but I think there is more to it than a simple demonic issue. For starters, it always targets something additional to the boilerplate security systems… DIR. HOUSE: — So, you gonna tell me what it is, or are we doing the dramatic pause-for-effect bullshit — COOPER: I was just looking through my documentation to show you the incident reports. Here, look. Besides recording devices and anti-theft technology, it takes out the Akiva detection devices, without fail. DIR. HOUSE: … how in the fuck did we miss that? COOPER: See, here. 8131's not destroying them, it's changing the read out to intentionally show normal levels and then erasing the metadata. If you run diagnostics later, it shows up as an error but simple monitoring just shows the background rate. It also intentionally added TRE values which the devices didn't actually register to further confuse the incident. DIR. HOUSE: Huh. Divine fraud. Almost respect it. UPDATE: Containment of SCP-8131 is to be considered a top priority for Site-666, the Department of Tactical Theology, and MTF Eta-77 ("Spheres Within Spheres"). Contact Site Director House for further information (with appropriate clearance). Description: SCP-8131 is a probable vainglory-class demonic deific entity known to target large scale gambling operations at physical locations1 with anomalous criminal activities classified as KIŠ.UNU Events. While the details, scope, and methods of each KIŠ.UNU Event vary, each are categorized by fulfillment of three criteria: The complete and immediate failure of all anti-theft devices resulting in a window of opportunity for a particularly audacious robbery of the facility's main vault or other major repository. All cash on hand will be successfully removed from the premises and not recovered. At least 25+ physically present witnesses to the event itself, all responding with grudging admiration and/or envy at SCP-8131's abilities and acumen, regardless of how the individual typically would respond to events of a criminal nature. Witnesses may include casino and hotel staff, patrons, and law-enforcement personnel present at the time of the event. It has not been conclusively determined if this is an anomalous effect produced by SCP-8131 or a natural reaction to the particularly audacious criminal acts the entity undertakes. However, Foundation researchers lean towards memetic influence as no witness has ever failed to express this opinion during post hoc interviews. The marking of 𒄷𒈿2 found somewhere within the crime scene itself, although the location, composition materials, and construction of said markings vary from event to event. Note that the markings to date have always been inert with regards to Akiva radiation, Tartarean Resonance Energy, or Hume level fluctuations. See Addendum for notable KIŠ.UNU Events. While SCP-8131 has never been interviewed or identified, their appearance has remained consistent across all confirmed KIŠ.UNU Events: humanoid, of apparent Afrocentric or Arab descent standing roughly 175 cm (5'10") tall and of average build, while wearing casual, unremarkable clothing, usually including a baseball cap and sunglasses. Although some KIŠ.UNU Events often seem to include other humanoids working in concert with SCP-8131 (termed SCP-8131-1 instances), these beings immediately de-manifest upon the conclusion of said event and appear to be non-sentient beings created by SCP-8131 for the express purpose of carrying out the planned robbery. COOPER: Besides the issues with Akiva readings, it's the mark that I keep going back to. It's deliberate, almost mocking in its daring. Not to mention we have enough evidence of that particular symbol's use in ritualistic inscriptions to recognize it as an effective sigil, even if it isn't throwing readings on its own. It's possible that it is setting off some sort of reaction, but we don't know how to measure it properly. DIR. HOUSE: It wouldn't be the first time something brand fuckin' new turned up in Undervegas. COOPER: It points to inadvertent worship, because in all these cases we end up with witnesses who admire the audacity of the crime. It doesn't matter that the stakes are mundane and no one gets too hurt; in fact I would argue that's half the appeal. It's theatrical, which is what the entity is banking on. DIR. HOUSE: Are we nearing the point, Coop? COOPER: Director House, I am almost certain we are dealing with the results of apotheosis and divine ascension, possibly accidental but likely aided by an established pantheon structure. DIR. HOUSE: Jesus Christ. COOPER: No, far too recent, and unlikely to take an interest in something like this. My personal theory is one of the Mesopotamian pantheon, even if the Akkadian mark is a little on the nose. This is intentional ritual, dressed up to resemble a summer heist film. The sort of thing that provokes a grudging admiration from the witnesses at the audacity, the desire to come out ahead against the establishment. My theory is that at its essentials, someone is channeling worship through pantomiming a one-man Ocean's Eleven, over and over again. DIR. HOUSE: Someone wants to be admired. Envied, even. COOPER: Exactly. Addendum 8131.1 Notable KIŠ.UNU Events Date & Location Event Description 1 Jan 2016 - Reno, NV First Confirmed Event. Dubbed the New Year's Spree by local media prior to Foundation response, at least seven casinos within city limits were robbed within five minutes of each other by the same man matching SCP-8131's description. Although no specific anomalous behavior was reported by eye witnesses, it would be otherwise impossible for one person to travel between locations in mere seconds. 25 Feb 2017 - Las Vegas, NV Two Events occurred simultaneously at the Bellagio and Circus Circus Casinos. SCP-8131 appears on closed circuit feeds at both locations, although the various SCP-8131-1 instances varied. Although the Foundation was able to apprehend nine SCP-8131-1 instances, none provided any information upon interrogation and de-manifested exactly 26 minutes after the conclusion of both events. During both events, SCP-8131 appeared to look directly at various surveillance cameras, often winking or otherwise playing up for the viewer. 30 Apr 2018 - Sé, Macau First confirmed non-US event. Notable as well for the level of security overcome, as the target (Grand Lisboa Casino) had extensive paratechnology in place to limit anomalous gambling and criminal activity. SCP-8131 was able to complete the event in spite of multiple reality anchors, artificial intelligence programs, and cognitohazards in use at Grand Lisboa. Note that in addition to the contents of the major deposit safes of the casino, at the conclusion of the event all copper hardware and wiring was found to be removed from the building's electrical systems without otherwise damaging the structure. 9 April 2020 - Las Vegas, NV Only recorded event during the Covid19 Pandemic shutdowns. Although the site (MGM Grand Casino & Hotel) was closed with a skeleton staff presence, SCP-8131 entered with his usual fanfare and complex redirection efforts using SCP-8131-1 instances. Roughly three minutes into the event, SCP-8131 stopped and looked directly at a camera with visible frustration before de-manifesting with all SCP-8131-1 instances. It should be noted that this is the sole KIŠ.UNU Event which resulted in no theft from the targeted casino. KIŠ.UNU Events resumed as normal after the reopening of most gaming establishments worldwide in the late summer of 2020. EXPLORATION LOG 8131.1 NOTE: Director House and Junior Researcher Cooper, accompanied with three members of MTF Eta-77 ("Spheres Within Spheres")3 entered Undervegas in order to attempt contact with POI-68131, the Pit Boss identified previously as the leader of the Iwannit Estate (associated with the sin of Envy). Initial intelligence provided a likely location within the Estate for insertion. The team continues through the Estate streets without challenge, although several ornately dressed demonic entities appear to notice and regard with some suspicion. Eta-77 members, Director House, and Dr. Cooper follow Iwannit protocol until an Estate liaison approaches Dr. Cooper directly.4 Note that the Liaison appears to perfectly mirror the appearance of Christian Bale in the 2000 film 'American Psycho', with the exception of their skin being a deep shade of purple. DRUX: (under their breath) I swear, my neck is going to be sore tomorrow for the dumbest reasons… LIAISON: Yeah, yeah. You're lucky the Boss has time for visitors today, or we'd just let you keep walking around like that for a couple hours. C'mon. Present your tithe. Dr. Cooper hands the liaison a small leather bag holding three small stones, two golden coins, and a severed scorpion tail, the established tithe requested. COOPER: We appreciate the timely response. The Liaison rolls his eyes, then opens a void portal behind him with a flick of his wrist, motioning for Cooper to approach. ETA-77 members post around the portal, remaining behind. The portal leads to a pocket dimension, resembling a modern high-rise corporate corner office which looks out over an unknown hellscape of thousands of beings in apparent agony. A howling wind is heard outside, although not loud enough to compromise recording. Lighting in the room is dim with the only full light focused upon the entity sitting at the desk near the window, presumed to be POI-68131. POI-68131: Ah, there you are. Took you long enough to figure it out. POI-68131 appears as an ethnically ambiguous human male of roughly thirty years of age, well over 8' (243cm) in height with pale yellow skin, luminescent green eyes, an elaborately shaved black goatee and slicked back dark hair. Their clothing is a simple yet finely tailored suit with a deep red tie that pulses slowly5. It should be noted that POI-68131 does not resemble SCP-8131 as recorded during various KIŠ.UNU Events. They motion for Dr. Cooper to take a seat in a chair which manifests opposite of them at the desk, which she accepts. No equal offer is made to Director House, who remains standing beside the desk. HOUSE: That some two-bit demon lord in a fancy suit wastes his time hitting casinos to get a little attention now and then? Yeah, it was really high priority for us. POI-68131: Ah. So you haven't yet. That's far more interesting. COOPER: We've found the evidence of Akiva, the tampering with the TRE readouts — and we are here to inquire as to why. As the Director said, this isn't exactly high priority for us. No one gets hurt, at least so far, and we don't particularly care about the private wealth of casino owners. But this is a lot of work for nothing, so yes. We're trying to figure out why. — and it seemed likely that Pazuzu, Demon-God of Mesopotamia might be able to shed some light on that subject. POI-68131: C'mon, kiddo. You think I'm gonna give the game away for free just because you figured out my name? That doesn't make me to do shit, no matter how many movies convince you otherwise. The Power of Christ doesn't do anything to compel me; I never even met the guy. HOUSE: Yeah, I get it. You're a shadow operator, pulling the strings, running your own show, blah blah blah. Cut the bullshit, Envy. You're running a whole estate based around Envy, on Jealousy, and most of Undervegas doesn't seem to even know your name. There's a side gig here, or you couldn't keep all this up. POI-68131: Even if you're right, which you already know you are, what makes you think it's gonna be in my best interests to tell you a goddamned thing? COOPER: Worship sustains gods, and this isn't getting you anything near the worship a deific entity in charge of all this would require. Something else clearly is creating what you need, but this agent of yours is putting down that vocative sign for a reason. It's calling back to you, even if we can't see the mechanism. You're gaining from this, and that much is clear. HOUSE: And sure. We don't have any power to make you tell us anything. But like every two-bit, cookie cutter megalomaniac craving validation and praise for his incredibly elaborate plot, you're gonna monologue it anyway because maybe you've got a good tailor, but deep down you want nothing more than to have the big dramatic reveal, so just fuckin' spill it already. POI-68131: Ah, what can I say? We all have our vices, and ain't that the point? Fine. Don't worry, we're not doing any of that blood sacrifice shit that gets your kind all worked up. I swear, those Canaanites make a baby eating statue one time and suddenly everyone's convinced all demons are into that. No, this is different. Respectable, even. What do the kids these days like to say? "Modern problems require modern solutions?" HOUSE: Great. Now we're getting Facebook-tier memes from this clown… POI-68131: Ah, but that's it, Director. They're still getting passed around like crazy, all over that internet you apes are so proud of. Sure, you don't think of it as worship because most people think that shit has to be locked down, ritualistic when all we're really doing it for is the attention. Time marches on and people forget the Demon God who can probably save their house from falling to plague, so you mix it up. You get people working for you that they will remember. Same shit every guy like me is out there doing, but you gotta get creative for it to last, especially when stuff like this. You gotta strike when the iron is hot, you know? When people are looking. COOPER: But they're not looking. We've been covering up the heists for years, no one remembers his face. Even if he's acting as your chthonic Anunnaki6 it's not like people are noticing him for long enough for you to get much of anything out of it. POI-68131: Aw, you're so close! It's almost cute. Bless your heart, but you're looking at the wrong thing here. Yeah, he's my Anunnaki, I'm the Igigi7, yadda yadda. I'm leeching like hell off all the attention he's getting, but the whole broad daylight heists? That's just something to keep the kid happy! Just busy work, y'know? I don't know what the hell is going on in Erṣetu8 lately, maybe he got to watch those shitty Ocean's Eleven remakes or something. Who knows? He was down there for a pretty fucking long stent. HOUSE: … meaning you pulled him out after you realized you could use him, because now people were paying attention. POI-68131: And at last, circle gets the goddamned square. Man, you apes and that internet. You have no idea the kind of power you're handing guys like me, do you? Some asshole on Twitter finds one mildly interesting thing in a dusty museum and suddenly, out of nowhere, everyone is on a first name basis with some jackass salesman from Ur, roughly three thousand years dead. COOPER: … oh, son of a bitch. The bright light shifts dramatically from POI-68131's desk to highlight the corner of the office where SCP-8131 is seen leaning against the wall with a large grin on his face. Theatrically, he shrugs his shoulders with his palms outward, head tilted slightly, evoking Han Solo in the film Return of the Jedi, 1983. POI-68131: The power of a meme, kiddo. You can bet your high quality copper ingots from Ur on it. At this point, Both HOUSE and COOPER were ejected from the Estate via an unknown method of de-materialization and returned to Site-666. POI-68131 and SCP-8131 have rejected all attempts at reestablishing communication. More From This Author More From This Author AriadnesThread's Works SCPs SCP-6830 • SCP-7801 • SCP-7028 • SCP-8520 • SCP-8028 • Tales/GoI Formats Dokein: A Journal for Tactical Theology • I Think I Could Be Brave • Ever Burning Brightly • Koyaanisqatsi • The Virtue of Resilience • Your Place Was Empty • Frollicles (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Baba Yaga) • Other Ariadne's Malibu Dream House (of Leaves) • ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8131" by AriadnesThread, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8131. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: casino.jpg Name: Casino Lisboa Author: Jennifer Morrow License: CC BY 2.0 Deed Source Link: https://www.flickr.com/photos/45972156@N04/4219933002 Footnotes 1. To date, no online casino operations have been targeted with KIŠ.UNU Events. 2. Old Akkadian cuneiform logogram for nabûm; meaning to name, call, invoke. Note that the typical composition of this verb would include a following symbol for a person or god rather than a stand-alone imperative. 3. Agents Kazam (callsign Ged), Flores (Drux), and Dubois (Ceph). 4. Devised through various testing methods, Site-666 standard protocol for travel through the Iwannit Estate includes offerings of gold and/or jewelry at various altars along the main stretch of road, literally walking with one's nose in the air, and refusing to make eye contact with any local demons until approached by an Estate liaison. All parties must also be wearing high-end designer clothing; see Site-666 armory quartermaster for further information and clothing loan options. 5. Footage analysis later shows that the pulse matches the heartbeat of whoever POI-68131 is looking at directly at the time. 6. Sumerian deity able to act within the mortal plane of existence, often after passing through the Underworld from mortality themselves first. Usually a minor deputy who acts in service of one of the greater gods of the Sumerian pantheon. 7. Greater divinity in Sumerian cosmology. 8. Sumerian Underworld. |
SCP-8132 | safe | This table-top roleplaying game is not haunted. It is merely cursed. Would that ghost be playing it if it were haunted? Alzin Cdag SCP-8132 More by this author One line ("Every gamble you make based on our ruleset is marked in a dusty ledger.") inspired by a line from the Beef and Dairy Network Podcast "Episode 59: New Beef Call Number", (26:50-27:05). Only the word "ledger" was directly taken, however. The word "Hypercat" comes from Counter/Weight Episode Zero: If Han Solo Used to be Beyoncé from the podcast Friends at the Table Item #: SCP-8132 Front Cover of SCP-8132. Special Containment Procedures: The physical location of SCP-8132 is to be kept secret from any Foundation personnel working at Site-43. As such, the current head of MAUDE1 (at time of writing, Gregory J. Chudley) is to assign it a new location in a minimal-maintenance anomalous items storage warehouse at least once every six months, where it is to be kept within a nested series of containers at least three deep. Description: SCP-8132 is a book, measuring 11 × 15 × 1 inches (sic). The book, entitled, "Vikander-Kneed Technical Media Presents: The ViKarious ToMe™", consists of a rulebook for a tabletop role-playing game. Even though scans have shown it to have sixty pages, a person opening the book will find it to have a number of pages ranging from five to a theoretical infinite number with cardinality ℵ1. Page numbers range from one to five, inclusive, but are not restricted to integers2. Measurements of the item, and in ideas derived from it, can only be reported in US Customary Units. Testing has shown ideas based on the ruleset within to have a highly infoallergenic properties3. SCP-8132's illustration accompanying one creature of its' bestiary, the Hummingoat. Addendum 8132-1: As most of the noteworthy events concerning SCP-8132 also concerned the containment of another anomaly, the information related to that anomaly's time of containment within Site-43 is included herein.4567 To: ajmcinnis@43NET From: ten.PiCS|ttekcarbr#ten.PiCS|ttekcarbr Subject: Request for temporary containment transfer Dear Director McInnis, Hello. I am the head of the SCP-7132 project. Every three days, the current individual known as SCP-7132 spontaneously combusts and is replaced by a different person. Unless we help each person through their personal emotional problems and traumas, upon this combustion, worldwide consequences result. (Termination of its' form beforehand negates this, but is a last resort.) At present, SCP-7132 is stuck reincarnating into the same form: a ten-year-old child who wants to be told the greatest story ever. We have read her all the books we can think of, have played her every important stage drama, and yet she remains unsatisfied. As our Site has failed to comfort this iteration, and as your Site is known for unconventional containment solutions, would you be interested in taking this iteration on? It's minimal maintenance for a Keter-class anomaly, which will raise your credibility in the statistics come budget time. Regards, Site-81 Senior Supervisor Rita Brackett Secure, Contain, Protect SCP-8132's illustration accompanying one creature of its' bestiary, the Sommelier. The individual pictured is Minuscule Mario, melancholic manager of the Sad Sommelier restaurant. Addendum 8132-2: AUDIO LOG DATE: 09/01/2012 [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Wettle: Okay. Starting recording… Dr. Wettle: My name is Doctor William W. Wettle, and I have been chosen to test SCP-8132. UNKNOWN: Baaaa! Dr. Wettle: All right. The first thing I need to do is fill out this character sheep. UNKNOWN: Quack! Quack! Dr. Wettle: Gertrude! Get back in your pen. I don't need you yet. Technician Deering: What's with all the livestock in here? Dr. Wettle: This is what my job has been reduced to, Phil. Technician Deering: …Right. Could you do it somewhere else? Maybe not in the mess hall, for instance? I've got to have this floor squeaky-clean by lunchtime, and right now it's absolutely covered in manure. Dr. Wettle: Is it really? Technician Deering: Yep. Dr. Wettle: So I've been stepping around in… Technician Deering: Yep. Dr. Wettle: Shit. Technician Deering: Come on, let's get you to the nearest janitor's bathroom; I'll see if I can get you a change of clothes and shoes. Dr. Wettle: Wait, I just need to come up with a character name. Technician Deering: Really, I think it can wait… there's people coming… Dr. Wettle: Now, it just needs to be something cool… Something exotic… Something completely unlike my real name… Dr. Wettle: Something like… Xettle. Dr. Xilliam X. Xettle. Yes, that's perfect! Technician Deering: What does the X stand for? Dr. Wettle: Xallace. Technician Deering: … You sure you wouldn't prefer something like Djoric Stormbreath? Dr. Wettle: What? That's the stupidest name I've ever heard. Who would use that? TIME: 12:20 [END LOG] Addendum 8132-3: To: ajmcinnis@43NET From: dibanez@43NET Subject: Look at this shit Allan, You're never going to believe this. VIDEO LOG DATE: 09/01/2012 [BEGIN LOG] 12:25: Chief Delfina Ibanez checks her watch. She stands on a large grate in one of the maintenance alcoves of AAF-A, below which a cascade of dark liquid flows down an amphitheater-shaped drain. Beside her is SCP-7132, who stares down into the flow, fascinated. She stares not at the cascade of the seating, but at the abyss of the stage. Chief Ibanez: It's just water, you know. SCP-7132: I know. Chief Ibanez: It's been water since you started watching ten minutes ago, and it's going to be water ten minutes from now. SCP-7132: I know. Chief Ibanez: So why stare into the drain? SCP-7132: Because that gurgle is always a different gurgle. That flow is always a different flow. And yet in spite of all its' variation, it is constant. SCP-7132: I stared down the storm drains of my own neighborhood, before I died. They're proof that there is so much going on in the world, beneath our feet. SCP-7132: That below the downhill sloping cul-de-sac by the woods I can't play in, in the street of elderly strangers I can't escape, the story of the world continues. Chief Ibanez: A call to adventure, eh? Chief Ibanez: I'm afraid I can't relate. My life has been… far too eventful. SCP-7132: I can understand that. I don't envy you your pain. SCP-7132: Only…. SCP-7132: Only that you have a story of your own to tell. Technician Deering: And here's the bathroom, Dr. Wettle. I'll leave you here, I guess… Chief Ibanez: I wouldn't do that, Phil, he probably won't be able to find his way back. Technician Deering:He's not a child, you know- Dr. Wettle: Ooh, storm drain! SCP-7132: You like them, too? Dr. Wettle: Of course! It's an eternity of the same noise, over and over. Chief Ibanez: So that's why you're VKTM's target market… SCP-7132: Can I pet your sheep? Dr. Wettle: Go right ahead. Sheep: Baaaah! SCP-7132: I've never been this close to one before… Oh, and that beautiful duck! Duck: Quack? SCP-7132: Yes, you. Duck: Qu- Quack. SCP-7132: Can I pet it, too? Dr. Wettle: Knock yourself out, kid. Technician Deering: I'm not sure that's very sanitary. You could get sick… SCP-7132: Relax, I'm dying in a few days anyway. Technician Deering: I'm… so sorry? SCP-7132: You get used to it after the third time. Dr. Wettle: Do you? SCP-7132: What are you doing with all these animals, anyway? Dr. Wettle: Oh, they're apparently essential to this TTRPG I'm testing now. SCP-7132: TTRPG? Like Dungeons and- Dr. Wettle: Yes, exactly that kind of nerd stuff. SCP-7132: Can I join you? Dr. Wettle: You want to spend time with- with me? SCP-7132: Mister- Dr. Wettle: Doctor. SCP-7132: Mister Doctor, I am trapped on this mortal coil until I hear a truly epic story. And I will hear that story even if I have to help make it myself. Dr. Wettle: But I- SCP-7132: "Yes" or "no", Mister Doctor, which is it going to be? Dr. Wettle: …. Yes. SCP-7132: Great! See you later, then! Dr. Wettle: Do you want to talk about what kind of story you want to tell? SCP-7132: It'll come to us. Chief Ibanez: All right, Wettle, I need you to sign this waiver against burn injuries, so if you'll take this pen… Dr. Wettle: What did I just sign up for? TIME: 12:50 [END LOG] And the weird thing is, it's working so far. VIDEO LOG DATE: 09/01/2012 [BEGIN LOG] 20:00: In the background, one of the janitorial staff has headphones on as they sweep. The headphones are on far too loud; the microphone of the camera picks up the karaoke cut of the soundtrack to "Man of La Mancha." Dr. Wettle: You know, we have underground waterfalls on site. Do you want to visit those? SCP-7132: What would be the point? Dr. Wettle: Same point as looking into a storm drain. SCP-7132: There's a difference. Dr. Wettle: What difference? SCP-7132: So much less control. SCP-7132: I get overwhelmed by stimuli easily, especially when I don't choose the stimuli. Waterfalls are huge and loud, and going there is your idea, not mine. But the storm drain? That's all my idea. Nobody else plans for it, so there's less pressure, and I can stand safely above the chaos, master of all I see. Dr. Wettle: I don't know about that. There's beauty in the things you can't control or tame. That's what my wife told me just before the divorce. SCP-7132: What is the use of beauty, when you're too scared and overwhelmed to appreciate it? Dr. Wettle: And that's what I told her, just before the divorce. SCP-7132: How did she take it? Dr. Wettle: She divorced me. And then she went on the safari for two on her own. Dr. Wettle: It had been building for a while. She was fed up by my clumsiness. She wanted children, I- I didn't. I'm not good with kids. SCP-7132: Well then, I've got some bad news for you. Dr. Wettle: What? SCP-7132: You're stuck with me for a while. Dr. Wettle: So I am. SCP-7132: And we're going to tell a story together that will make a safari look like the goddamn Teletubbies. Dr. Wettle: I- I don't think you should be using language like that… SCP-7132: Sorry. A goddamn puppet show. Dr. Wettle: Good. You have a character in mind? SCP-7132: She works for a world-spanning conspiracy that suppresses knowledge of the supernatural. Dr. Wettle: No way. How original. SCP-7132: Shut up. Dr. Wettle: We'll have to at least change the names so it doesn't get confusing. SCP-7132: Her name is Djoric Stormbreath. Dr. Wettle: … You've been talking to Phil Deering, haven't you? SCP-7132: I don't know who that is. Dr. Wettle: …The janitor guy with the mirror monster? SCP-7132: Oh, him. He doesn't know how good he has it. Dr. Wettle: … By having a creature belittle and insult him all day? SCP-7132: By having narration. Dr. Wettle: … SCP-7132: Imagine you're trapped alone in an infinite void. There's nothing to do and forever to wait. Would you rather stay there alone or with an enemy? Dr. Wettle: … Alone. I don't want to be bullied. SCP-7132: Then your consciousness dissolves over the millennia as you lose track of anything by which to define yourself. You don't have anything to stand against. Dr. Wettle: I'll take it. SCP-7132: Stories define us, Mister Doctor. A malevolent narrator is better than none at all. 20:10: The janitor takes off their headphones and inspects their Walkman, shutting off the music and leaving the area in silence. SCP-7132: Djoric Stormbreath wakes up one morning and finds that the site management has tasked her with slaying a HUMONGOUS dragon. SCP-7132: So she gathers her katanas and checks on her Hypercat mech… Dr. Wettle: Wait a minute, shouldn't I have a part in this? SCP-7132: And on the saddle of that Hypercat, she finds her arch-nemesis, Jordan C. Gordon! Dr. Wettle: "Ahahaha! We meet once again, Djoric Stormbreath," says Gordon- SCP-7132: No, I'll play Jordan Gordon. Dr. Wettle: So what do I do? SCP-7132: "You'll never get away with this, Gordon," says Djoric. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, Djoric, I'm the one on the hypercat this time!" Says Jordan C. Gordon. "I'll pit my five-katana technique against your clumsy piloting any day of the week," says Djoric. SCP-7132: And the two of them angle to get the first move in the combat! Dr. Wettle: I don't even get to be game master? SCP-7132: Now, let's see… paper airplane race of initiative… Hard to do the accounting with just one person playing both roles, but we'll make do… SCP-7132: Okay, this one is for Djoric. 3.9 seconds, not bad. Dr. Wettle: Maybe I should just start with my character and we'll eventually cross paths. SCP-7132: This one is as Gordon. 3.7 seconds! Darn, I was hoping Djoric would get the first move. Dr. Wettle: One morning at Site-… Site-44, Dr. Xettle got up and thought, "You know, I think people will respect me more if I make more of an effort to go to the gym!" SCP-7132: Gordon moves to crush Djoric with the paw of her own hypercat! Dr. Wettle: And so, Dr. Xettle went. And that day, he bench-pressed… 20:11: Dr. Wettle runs a specialized comb over the back of the sheep, looks at the resulting distribution of fibers and paint on the comb, then compares it to a chart in SCP-8132. Dr. Wettle: That day he bench-pressed four hundred and nineteen kilograms! And everyone who saw it felt… 20:12: Dr. Wettle forces the sheep to make eye-contact with the duck and pays close attention to the sheep's hoof movements, then consults a table. Dr. Wettle: Everyone who saw it felt embarrassed on his behalf… because… (table BX-9, carry the three…) he had mistaken a gumball machine for a barbell. Right. That tracks. Dr. Wettle: You've been quiet for a bit. Were you listening to my side of the story? SCP-7132: N-no, I'm just waiting my turn for the duck. Dr. Wettle: No, you were quiet even before I needed Gertrude. I think you were listening to my part of the story. 22:28: The ghostly echo of the karaoke soundtrack to "Man of La Mancha" emanates from no discernable source for a moment, and SCP-7132 erupts in a fireball, spooking the animals as well as Dr. Wettle, who trip over each other in their attempts to avoid being singed. The fire dies down after a few seconds, leaving SCP-7132 and her clothes entirely intact. SCP-7132: Well, what do you know. Dr. Wettle: SWEET JIMINY CHRISTMAS! SCP-7132: That reincarnation came far too early. Dr. Wettle: Someone get the fire extinguisher! SCP-7132: That means that somehow… the Teal Orphan thinks we're on the right track. TIME: 22:30 [END LOG] I've never seen him this competent before, have you? Regards, Chief Delfina Ibanez, Pursuit and Suppression Secure, Contain, Protect To: ajmcinnis@43NET From: ten.PiCS|ttekcarbr#ten.PiCS|ttekcarbr Subject: Secondary effects of SCP-7132 Report Dear Director McInnis, Given your report of an unexpected PHOENIX event, we have looked into whether the usual negative consequences have triggered. Surprisingly, they have not. Keep doing whatever you're doing with this iteration of SCP-7132. It's a relief while it lasts. Regards, Site-81 Senior Supervisor Rita Brackett Secure, Contain, Protect SCP-7132's character, Djoric Stormbreath, painted by anonymous Site-43 staff, showing off her signature five-katana technique. Addendum 8132-4: Excerpt from SCP-8132, pg. 4.9999997. Character Actions and Choices (Advanced) Other role-playing games seem to think of mental challenges as a sort of pass-fail state system, resolvable by a roll of the dice. But brains know no pass-fail. They know only the paths they engrave over time. And those paths don't travel to a success region of the brain or a failure region, but connect a truly multifarious, byzantine network of regions that say, "focus" or "remember" or "pretend to your significant other that you don't have a truly spectacular collection of pornography hidden behind his bathroom mirror." Our patented method of fictional-character mentalism is reproduced below. If living human skin is not available, you can use a very low-threshold memory foam. Make sure the side lengths of the square representing the dorsomedial hypothalamic nucleus are exact, or the earthworms may overexert themselves trying to reach it, and then the stitches holding them to the spiders will come undone. You don't want that. Would you want a limb to fall off while you played Twister? Addendum 8132-5: VIDEO LOG DATE: 09/13/2012 [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Wettle: … And that's the last time I'll read a book for fun. (pause) Bah. "See Jane run…" Of course I can see Jane run, it's in the fucking illustration! Give me technical reports over that any day of the week! SCP-7132: Me, I always loved Don Quixote, though I never finished reading it. (pause) Though based on your apparent reading level, I don't think… Dr. Wettle: Nah, I tried reading Cervantes. I could never finish it either. Cervantes stops the plot entirely to bring in one new character after another, and then they tell their life's story… SCP-7132: You tried reading Don Quixote before you read Dick and Jane? That's sort of backwards, isn't it? Dr. Wettle: They don't sell Dick and Jane anymore. I only got a copy secondhand last year. SCP-7132: So, (pause) a discontinued book series made you stop reading? Dr. Wettle: Well… what's your excuse? SCP-7132: What? Dr. Wettle: I can read between the lines of emails. Site-81 can't possibly have exhausted the entire supply of world literature on you; you just stopped reading. SCP-7132: Maybe you're underestimating Site-81. Dr. Wettle: Maybe. But I have a feeling that if they were going for completion, you would have finished Don Quixote. SCP-7132: (Begins rocking back and forth) Start the game, Dr. Wettle. Dr. Wettle: Seriously, what happened? SCP-7132: Start. The. Game. Dr. Wettle: All right, I'll consult the entrails to see what our heroes will take on next. Table 23-Skidoo tells me the challenge Xettle and Dr. Djoric Stormbreath must face is… the ViKarious ToMe™ itself. Huh. SCP-7132: Ah, so we're going meta-metagaming, are we? SCP-7132: This is what it's all been building towards. The greatest story ever told… of course it's got to have recursion. Dr. Wettle: I thought "The Greatest Story Ever Told" was a Jesus film. SCP-7132: No more talking. I've got to plan this… SCP-7132: Doctor Djoric Stormbreath realized something. 'Wait a minute!' She cried. She raced to find Dr. Xettle. Dr. Wettle: She finds Dr. Xettle in the process of being chewed out by Dr. Clank. "I told you never to put pasta and antipasto in the same dish!" said Dr. Clank, pointing to the smoking crater in the wall of the kitchen. SCP-7132: I'm going to have to ask Dr. Xettle and Dr. Clank to make an Inception Czech. 20:31: Dr. Wettle dresses as and puts on the face paint of commedia dell'arte stock character Scaramouche, and then attempts to balance a spinning top on top of his head while performing a Fandango dance. Dr. Wettle: 11.7 seconds for Clank, a new best! And… 0.7 seconds for Xettle. Seems about right. SCP-7132: Hmm, let's see… Table 377.5, column YY, name begins with Cl, 11.7 seconds… Clank realizes he has always loved Xettle, and that all his reprimands have been the fruit of trying to deny this to himself. Dr. Wettle: You- you really think so? Gosh… SCP-7132: Dr. Xettle, meanwhile, on a failure, notices nothing, as he begins to believe that the world has been transmuted into halibuts. Dr. Wettle: Gaah! Those damn fish are everywhere! Duck: Quack? Dr. Wettle: Not really, Gertrude; go back to sleep. Duck: Quaack. SCP-7132: Shush! No talking out of character! SCP-7132: "From now on," says Dr. Djoric Stormbreath, "We've got to spend all our resources in trying to figure out the boundaries of this analogue simulation we are in!" Dr. Wettle: "What do you mean, you walking, talking pile of halibuts?" asks Dr. Xettle. "Is this why my arms are fish and my legs are fish and-" SCP-7132: "I don't know what you're talking about," says Dr. Stormbreath, "But probably. Because I have discovered that all of reality follows precisely the rules laid down by the ViKarious ToMe™. We're all characters in a table-top roleplaying game, gentlemen, and we need to learn just how deep the rabbit hole goes." Dr. Wettle: I, uh… I think our time is about up for the night… Don't you usually reincarnate by this point in the evening? SCP-7132: Djoric Stormbreath grabs Xettle and Clank. "Come on, down to the laboratory," she says, "I need to convince you of this before our creators find a way to make us forget. We must act now!" Dr. Wettle: I… I should perform a character reading to see if Xettle gets invested… SCP-7132: Factor in his disorientation due to the fish hallucination… Dr. Wettle: All right…. Damn. SCP-7132: What? Dr. Wettle: Pass me the electric razor. I need to reduce the wool on this particular patch of sheep skin to almost nothing. Dr. Wettle: I got a critical failure. Dr. Wettle: Now the 'pataphysics is all he can think about. SCP-7132: "Great," says Dr. Stormbreath, "I look forward to working on this with you." SCP-7132: "No more wasting time with casual chats that add nothing." SCP-7132: "If our universe is a story…" SCP-7132: "We will make it the greatest story of all time." [END LOG] Addendum 8132-6: To: ajmcinnis@43NET From: ten.PiCS|ttekcarbr#ten.PiCS|ttekcarbr Subject: SCP-7132 consequences back Dear Director McInnis, Last night, our sources tell us the negative consequences of an unmitigated PHOENIX event have occurred. Perhaps the forces involved are waiting for something to reach its' fruition; perhaps they are displeased at some change in your methods. Whatever the case, until something indicates it is safe to do otherwise, please terminate SCP-7132 at the scheduled time every three days. Regards, Site-81 Senior Supervisor Rita Brackett Secure, Contain, Protect Addendum 8132-7: Excerpts from SCP-8132, page 2.037: Now that you've ensured your own eternal torment by converting to the faith espoused by Dr. Wettle, it's time to get to the rules of the game! After all, it's all you'll have to pass the time in the fiery void! Rule 1: Let imaginary people pretend to be you. Rule 2: Tether your sense of achievement to the whims of a capricious universe. One man's killed darlings are another's deleted scenes Addendum 8132-8: Excerpt from materials produced by testing session 8132-47, by Dr. Wettle and SCP-7132 TESTING LOG DATE: 10/13/2012 [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Clank: Thank you all for coming on such short notice. P6-14: This had better be good, Clank. Where are Xettle and Stormbreath? This is their presentation, after all. Dr. Clank: Xettle? That gorgeous hunk of mutton should be here any moment. P6-3: You don't keep the Panopticator Directorate waiting! He should know that by now! 13:20:00: Djoric Stormbreath lands her Hypercat, sheathing her katanas as she does so. Dr. Xettle steps down from the Hypercat's talons, clutching tightly to lab equipment. Dr. Djoric Stormbreath: Sorry we're late, fellow scientists; Jordan C. Gordon's friend Gordon C. Jordan- whose voice sounds surprisingly close to that of Dr. Xettle attempting a bad French accent- waylaid us, trying to steal our evidence. Dr. Xettle: …Yes. How… unfortunate. I, Dr. Xettle, in a way completely in character, was appalled by Gordon's actions. And I thought that accent was pretty convincing… Dr. Djoric Stormbreath: Ladies and gentlemen of Panopticon, our reality is nothing but a tabletop role-playing game in the mind of an idiot and a genius. P6-2: Can you show us evidence that we're in such a fantasy as you describe? Dr. Xettle: Of- of course. 13:25: Dr. Xettle wheels in a cart containing a live fulvous whistling-duck, a graduated cylinder of green oil, a pipette, and a clear rectangular container divided into twenty-nine vertical sections. Dr. Xettle: Watch carefully. 13:25-13:27: Dr. Xettle drops one droplet of oil at a time onto the back of the duck; these droplets fall into each of the twenty-nine rectangular sections. Soon, a curve forms, as some sections fill up more quickly than others. P6-2: What is the significance of this display? Dr. Djoric Stormbreath: This is the standard method of determining the accuracy of a ranged attack in the rules of TDQ-XXXY. As you see, repetition over time creates this probability curve. Now, if one or more of you would take this blindfold… Dr. Xettle: Although we completely understand if none of you want to submit to such an indignity… P6-4: No, I'll do it. Dr. Xettle:… Great. Just great. Exactly what I wanted to hear. 13:28: Dr. Djoric Stormbreath proceeds to blindfold P6-4, and has him throw a large quantity of darts at a target. There is a laser sensor array indicating how close each one comes to the center of the target, and plotting the frequency of each value on a histogram. Rather than a continuous spectrum, there are only twenty-nine discrete values. P6-13: It's the exact same curve as the duck method made! Dr. Xettle: Precisely. P6-12: And this coincidence of probability is how you know we're in a sort of analog simulation? Dr. Djoric Stormbreath: Not only that. Dr. Djoric Stormbreath: One would imagine that every duck in existence has a slightly different body shape and mannerisms. P6-13: Naturally. Dr. Djoric Stormbreath: Then would it surprise you to learn that as of the end of today's testing of a sample of forty-three ducks, each one produces the same curve? Millihammer: Meaning what? Dr. Djoric Stormbreath: Ladies and gentlemen, all ducks seem like individual ducks, because the masters of reality can describe one as different compared to one another. Dr. Djoric Stormbreath: But whoever they are, they can't describe with their words what a random result looks like. They have to run the duck test each time we do. And they only have one duck. Dr. Millihammer: But if we're saying this is a tabletop role-playing game, they don't need to do the test every single time, do they? That would get really boring. They can just say, "Oh, this one's curve is slightly higher than that one and has slightly more bumps on the left side than on the right", and we, in-universe, won't know the difference. Dr. Xettle: Yes, that's how yesterday's tests went. All the curves were slightly different. I thought about calling the whole thing off… Dr. Djoric Stormbreath: But that urge was completely against his character. Any strenuous decision will prove that, Dr. Xettle. So we changed the approach of the experimental setup today. Dr. Millihammer: How? Dr. Xettle: I… I kept them on the hook by doing interesting things in between every roll. TIME: 14:30:00 [END LOG] Addendum 8132-9: Excerpts from materials produced by testing sessions 8132-23 through 8132-46, by Dr. Wettle Duck Test Number Interest Renewal Ritual Waddlorf 7 Experimenter began taking sword-fighting lessons from Djoric Stormbreath, who introduced experimenter to the seventeen-sword technique as an easy-to-learn prelude to the five-sword technique. Jeremiah Q. Beaks 2 Experimenter attempted to destroy TDQ-682. Chainsaws have no effect on helium. Quackmire 3 Experimenter signed up to be a triple agent infiltrating Gordon C. Jordan and Jordan C. Gordon, under the assumed name of Cordon J. Garden. Waddlorf 9 Experimenter was tasked by Gordon and Jordan to find a way to cripple Djoric Stormbreath's fighting abilities. Experimenter has a flash of inspiration during their latest fencing match, in which Experimenter graduates from using thirteen swords to twelve. Quackmire 14 Experimenter stole one of Djoric Stormbreath's signature five swords, forcing her to use just four for the moment. Djoric Stormbreath cries out in distress, but refuses to negotiate for the sword back. Jeremiah Q. Beaks 22 Experimenter attempted to destroy TDQ-682. TDQ-173 refused to snap its' neck and instead built an improved prototype of the high-pressure canisters TDQ-682 is contained in, resilient to leakage. Further inspection shows that TDQ-682 has no neck, in any case. Waddlorf 27 Experimenter revealed that experimenter had been a quadruple agent this whole time, and challenged Djoric Stormbreath to a three-on-one duel along with Jordan C. Gordon and Gordon C. Jordan. Quackmire 40 Experimenter used a special sword technique to create a cold fusion reactor. Jeremiah Q. Beaks 222 Experimenter attempted to destroy TDQ-682. Attempt succeeded. Ned Caratacus 9 Djoric Stormbreath used the Power of Friendship to get experimenter back on her side, whereupon experimenter revealed experimenter had actually forgotten they were a quintuple agent. Experimenter pleaded with Djoric Stormbreath to hear experimenter's pleas for forgiveness; appeal was denied, and experimenter was told merely to get back to work. Addendum 8132-10: Excerpt from SCP-8132, page 2.082 One death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic. Ergo, the emotional impact of an event is inversely proportional to its physical impact. A tragedy is one-millionth of a statistic, and a million times stronger. If we keep dividing the physical impact into smaller and smaller portions, the emotional impact will be stronger still. What is the name of a trillionth of a statistic? A vigintillionth? Is there a name for the devastation of an impact felt by a handful of atoms, whose magnitude dwarfs the observable universe? Addendum 8132-11: Termination log of SCP-7132, 09/13/2012-10/16/2012 Date Termination Method Notes 09/15/2012 Mask fitted to face while sleeping, air supply changed from breathable to pure nitrogen None 09/18/2012 Mask fitted to face while sleeping, air supply changed from breathable to pure nitrogen None 09/21/2012 Mask fitted to face while sleeping, air supply changed from breathable to pure nitrogen Mask is getting worn; requisitioning replacement 09/24/2012 Mask method failed; emergency poison syringe used Subject awoke during first termination attempt, cracked mask, had to be sedated 09/27/2012 Mask fitted to face while sleeping, air supply changed from breathable to pure nitrogen None 09/30/2012 Mask fitted to face while sleeping, air supply changed from breathable to pure nitrogen Subject stayed awake as long as she could before finally falling asleep 10/02/2012 Mask fitted to face while sleeping, air supply changed from breathable to pure nitrogen Subject was only feigning sleep to put us at ease so we would put the mask on, but remained calm until termination succeeded. Possibly has forgotten a fear of death. 10/05/2012 Mask fitted to face, air supply changed from breathable to pure nitrogen None 10/08/2012 Mask fitted to face, air supply changed from breathable to pure nitrogen None 10/11/2012 Mask fitted to face, air supply changed from breathable to pure nitrogen None 10/14/2012 Mask fitted to face, air supply changed from breathable to pure nitrogen Subject herself pointed out the cracks in the mask. Asked for Dr. Wettle to come back for just one more hour. SCP-8132's illustration to the section describing inter-species war, specifically Emu War II. Addendum 8132-12: VIDEO LOG DATE: 10/16/2012 [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Reynders: Hello, Wettle. Dr. Wettle: Hello, Ilse. I am beginning to envy your social life. Dr. Reynders: Fuck off. Dr. Wettle: I'm serious, Ilse. Dr. Wettle: Nothing has been working. Nothing has been fun. Dr. Wettle: 'Pataphysics has sucked all the life out of the game. Whatever I had going for me in the first weeks… It's gone, Ilse. A little girl keeps getting killed at this site, and it's all my fault. Dr. Reynders: So what do you want from me? Dr. Wettle: I don't know. Dr. Wettle: She said once that it's better to have an enemy with you if you're trapped in an infinite void, because an enemy helps you define yourself. I don't even have myself in the void. My time is all spent in what Xettle would do, what Xettle would say… and as the character gets more established, she's allowing me less and less wiggle room. I'm trapped putting my energy into Xettle, and I'm missing everything that made him fun. Dr. Reynders: I hear, though, that the core of these games is just talking. Just having a conversation with another person. That's the difference between playing the ToMe™ and writing a novel. Dr. Wettle: She won't let me. Every time I try to say something as myself, or something plot-irrelevant, she shuts me down. Dr. Reynders: Was that true in the beginning? Dr. Wettle: No, it wasn't… Say, maybe that's what the Teal Orphan liked about it then! Dr. Reynders: Then why wouldn't her original handlers have been able to manage it? Dr. Wettle: Because…. because…. I don't know. Dr. Reynders: I think I do. Dr. Wettle: Then why did you ask? Dr. Reynders: Her former handlers were all theater and art people forced into the role of psychologists. A request to tell her a great story was so exciting of an opportunity for them, they didn't want to conceive that there were other layers to the solution. Dr. Wettle: Huh. That's usually the sort of failure I tend to fall into. Dr. Reynders: But because you are so awful at theater, you broke character all the time! You had long discussions out of character during your sessions! Dr. Wettle: I… I wouldn't say that's me being awful at theater… Dr. Reynders: I know, I'm just trying to frame your victory as a failure so I can win the betting pool on how long it will take for you to stop losing. Dr. Wettle: Can I get a cut? Dr. Reynders: No. So how do you intend to get the element of conversation back into the game? Dr. Wettle: Well, she shuts me down when I try to talk to her… Dr. Reynders: Yes? Dr. Wettle: So all I have to do is wait for her to try to talk to me! Dr. Reynders: You think that'll work? Dr. Wettle: … No. Dr. Reynders: There's other options, you know… Dr. Wettle: No, there aren't! There's just two of us playing it! Dr. Wettle: Unless… Dr. Blank: Hello, Ilse! You called for me? Dr. Reynders: Yes, Harry. I think Dr. Wettle has something to tell you. Dr. Blank: He does? Dr. Wettle: I do? Dr. Reynders: He does. Willie, tell him. Dr. Wettle: Harry… we need to talk more often. Dr. Blank: About what? Dr. Wettle: I don't know, that's not the point. Dr. Wettle: We just need to talk. Dr. Wettle: And that is all we need to do to save that mistaken child. TIME: 07:00 [END LOG] Addendum 8132-13: Excerpt from SCP-8132, page 2 Making Characters (Advanced): Step 1: The brain stem Addendum 8132-14: Excerpt from materials produced by testing session 8132-53, by Dr. Wettle et al. TESTING LOG DATE: 10/18/2012 [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Djoric Stormbreath: I would like to call this meeting of the TDQ-002 Committee to order- Dr. Clank: I thought this was the TDQ-8001 Committee? Dr. Djoric Stormbreath: It's been upgraded to -002 Proposal status, given the severity of the situation. Dr. Fllstrom: So it's on equal terms with, for instance, the Hate Huardian? Dr. Millihammer: And the Mast Side of the Eay? Dr. Clank: And the Grontispiece? 09:17:23: At this point, laughter begins to be evident in each committee member's voice. Dr. Tokolsky: And the Theaf of Qapers? Dr. Djoric Stormbreath: Are you all just going to keep listing off 002 proposals? Nax Wroom: What, like, Leter Euty? Ooor Aamen: Or the Clack Noon? Eelfina Jbanez: We can't forget a Hood Coy! Dr. Clank: One more, please, one more! Dr. Xettle: …. Dr. Millihammer: Xillie? Dr. Lillihammer: Willie? Are you all right? Dr. Wettle: Just… give me a moment, Lils … Stay in character… Dr. Blank: Ah, you're trying to convert the names in your head, aren't you? Dr. Wettle: … Would it be "The Thirty-Seven" or the "Shirty-Tix"? SCP-7132: ENOUGH! 14:10: SCP-7132 begins writing feverishly on a new sheet of paper: RBO-7131: ENOUGH! SHUT UP A MILLISECOND! Dr. Vettle: What? What is it? Wouldn't this be a great way to get your character out of her shell? RBO-7131: OF COURSE IT ISN'T, YOU BLOCKHEAD! Dr. Vettle: Why not? RBO-7131: This player character of mine… This SCP-7132… RBO-7131: She stopped reading a long time ago. RBO-7131: She loved books, but they grew wearisome. She loved stories, but stories grew hollow. It was either the same thing over and over again, or it was a maddening digression from what she wanted to read. RBO-7131: She once got a high from reading, but that passed. The stage and screen feel dull. She had to consume ever more to get the same novelty in the details, but in such large quantities she felt overwhelmed. Shut down. The rivers either rose from the storm drains roaring for blood, or left them bone dry. RBO-7131: Your character, Wettle, asked my character why she stopped reading. And that was when the overwhelm in her memory rushed back. She knew she wanted the greatest story, but… every session, she realized, less and less got done. So she seized control of the game the best she could, to keep things on track. To keep the one thing that remained to her safe. RBO-7131: If you bring in a bunch more people to talk and distract, all you're going to do is shut me out of the one thing I feel safe in. Dr. Wettle: Oh, crap, I didn't think of that. Dr. Lillihammer: It makes sense. Like the folks at Site-81, we're not psychologists; we're just shoehorning our own fun into this ghost's therapy session. RBO-7131: Right. RBO-7131: But this Teal Orphan character… they seem to have punished my character's decision to do this, though I can't think of why. So maybe your character's plan does have some merit. If so, it needs to be introduced in small doses so my character doesn't feel overwhelmed. It needs to come without any pressure to her at all: If she doesn't feel it's working, we can drop it and go back to the default for a while. And it needs to be, at the beginning, directed by me. I need to feel in control. Dr. Wettle: That… that makes sense. How do you want to start? RBO-7131: Something like: SCP-7132: And at that point, Dr. Clank admitted the one great sticking point in his attraction to Dr. Xettle. Dr. Blank: I'm attracted to you, Xilliam, and I can see us in a relationship together. It's just… I don't understand your fascination with storm drains. What do you see in them? They're just so goddamn boring. SCP-7132: To which Dr. Xettle replies: Dr. Wettle: When I stare into a storm drain, Iarry, the sunlight flashes upon the roaring water in the darkness… and I imagine it's your eyes as you ride towards me through the void. Dr. Blank: You… you stare into storm drains, Wettle? Dr. Wettle: Of- of course not, Blank, she made it up for the sake of a sample topic! Dr. Blank: Shame… that was a good line… Dr. Wettle: Well, truth be told- Dr. Lillihammer: Ok, but can we talk about how she's writing events from a narrative layer above us? Doesn't that seem at all important to anyone? Are we fiction? SCP-7132: Of course not. That's just the way I felt the most in control expressing my thoughts, by imagining I was a narrative god. SCP-7132: That's how we'll start. We ease into more and more members, taking more and more control on their own, and then… then we see if Wettle's plan has merit. TIME: 14:30:00 [END LOG] Addendum 8132-15: Timeline of Pertinent Events from 10/14/2012 to 01/30/2013 10/14/2012: Dr. Wettle estimates the death of characters Dr. Xettle and Dr. Djoric Stormbreath to take place by 10/22/2012, as they are both single-minded in their advances towards transnarrative ascension. 10/16/2012: Dr. Wettle enlists Dr. Reynders and Dr. Blank to recruit other people to test SCP-8132. 10/17/2012: Forty-seven people show up for the new Session Zero of SCP-8132 testing. Characters are created. 10/18/2012: SCP-8132 testing resumes. The characters of Dr. Xettle and Dr. Stormbreath try to make preparations to ascend; however, they are obstructed from doing so by having to react to the actions of the remaining thirty-seven player characters, each of which has a separate agenda and modus operandi. 10/20/2012: Twelve test personnel unite in a common goal and have their player characters go on a mission to steal the rights of the names from popular franchise The Mord of the Sings from the current holders, Uolkein Fnterprises, so that they can finally use the words "Iobbit", "Fnt", and "Calrog". 11/30/2012: Dr. Xettle's efforts, far too distracted to complete his own ascension, manifest in his own player character, Dr. Yilliam Y. Yettle, ascending to his plane. Dr. Yettle is immediately promoted to Panopticon Directorate status. Dr. Xettle plans to try again with Dr. Zettle, now ascended to Dr. Yettle's former narrative plane. 01/30/2013: In spite of Dr. Wettle's prediction, Dr. Xettle and Dr. Djoric Stormbreath, having been repeatedly waylaid, arrested, lost, transmogrified, and mailed to the Zukon of Danada, have been far too busy to complete the ascension process. 01/30/2013: SCP-7132 has been enjoying the story for months, and has undergone her PHOENIX events without incident regularly. Researcher's note: Thanks, everyone! - Dr. Wettle Addendum 8132-16: Excerpt from SCP-8132, pg. 3.141592653589793 On Transitioning From the Basic Ruleset To the Advanced Ruleset Let's drop the pretense for a moment. Nobody needs this ruleset. If you want to tell stories with your friends, you can go and tell stories with your friends without paying us a penny. All we are is the cardboard that makes up your rocket ship. We provide the stiffness so you can cut us up with scissors to form cones, fins, and windows. You don't need us to have fun. But at the same time, you need us very much. You need an excuse to exercise your imagination with your friends. You need some way of making sure that you're all prim and respectable to the outside world. You aren't a child anymore; your playtime must have rigorous rules. You need to feel like you're taking a gamble when your characters' actions fail, rather than failing when you feel it makes sense in the story. If you choose when your character fails, after all, aren't you a born loser? And when your character succeeds all the time, aren't they a Mary Sue? So we will be your excuse and your crutch. We have rules for every situation, should you begin to worry that this is all so childish. If you desire it, we have rules so dense so that a character cannot sneeze without having to make some sort of gamble. And you will feel that that sneeze is inherently better than if you had done it independently; this sneeze was in accordance with the rules. But there is a price, as with all crutches. The price of basing your ideas off of our rules is that your ideas are based off of our rules. And therefore, we own them. Every gamble you make based on our ruleset is marked in a dusty ledger. Every roleplay, we log. And as you have made our rules come to life, we live a little through you every session. Don't look behind you, you won't see anyone. You are completely and utterly alone in this room. Isn't that right, Dr. Wettle? Addendum 8132-17: VIDEO LOG DATE: 02/10/2013 [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Wettle: Okay. Starting recording… Dr. Okorie: Vdo Pkorie whispers to Dr. Clank, "Now's your moment." Dr. Blank: All right, Dr. Clank comes up to Dr. Xettle. Dr. Wettle: Hey, Dr. Clank. Dr. Blank: Hey, Xillie. Dr. Lillihammer: I grab popcorn and go to the security room to watch. Dr. Wettle: I'm sorry I haven't been there for you in these past months. You all have kept me so busy… Dr. Blank: Hey, it's okay. Dr. Wettle: And it wasn't until Kettle ascended and became Supreme God of the Meta18-Multiverse, that I started wondering, what's the point? Dr. Blank: It's like the wool on the sheep of your character, shorn off by obsession, had grown back in in your distraction. 21:19: Dr. Lillihammer elbows Dr. Blank in the stomach. Dr. Wettle: Strange metaphors aside, what does it matter if we're all in a story? Even if nobody narrates us, we're all narrating ourselves. We have to have a coherent self-image, and we tell ourselves our own story every day. Dr. Wettle: I'm in a story with a brilliant cast, full of people who love and respect me. Dr. Lillihammer: Well… I wouldn't say… Dr. Wettle: Shut up. This is Xettle talking, all your characters love him! Dr. Blank: "You're right," says Dr. Clank. And he leans in for a kiss. Dr. Wettle: And Xettle leans in to it. Dr. Lillihammer: And Millihammer fishes a twenty-dollar bill out of her pocket and gives it to Eelfina. "You won the bet," she says. Dr. Blank: And then Clank looks disappointed. "I thought there would be some sort of spark… but I don't feel anything beyond the base attraction." he says. "Let's just be friends." Dr. Wettle: Damn! Dr. Blank: What can I say? I don't like my character's love life being established before I even get into the campaign. Dr. Wettle: I… I can respect that. SCP-7132: Djoric Stormbreath walks over to her Hypercat. She places her hand on its' nose. Dr. Wettle: "Meeeow?" SCP-7132: You can leave now, Hypercat. Go stay with Jordan C. Gordon and Gordon C. Jordan. Dr. Wettle: "Meow!" protests the Hypercat. "Hey, thanks for that, this is going to make our crime sprees real smooth!" says Gordon C. Jordan. SCP-7132: I know that, Hypie. I just don't need you anymore. SCP-7132: A personality enslaved to a dice or a duck is no better than a robot. SCP-7132: But Cervantes' plot derailments… introducing new characters and having them tell their stories with no regard for the main plot… they made the book better. It keeps readers on their toes when the antics they desire could be frustrated at any moment. It makes the book more alive. SCP-7132: And for all people remember the stunts and the windmills, the true beauty in that book is in Quixote's conversations with Sancho. SCP-7132: There is beauty in digressions. A maddening beauty, maybe, to leave the plot behind, but which of us can truly say we are not mad? SCP-7132: So leave me here, Hypercat. I need friends, not plot devices. Dr. Wettle: "Mrrr… MEOW!" Fwoosh! The hypercat launches into the midnight sky! It eclipses the moon, and soars into the stars! 21:23: Everyone cheers. SCP-7132: Wettle? Can I talk to you alone? 21:25: Everyone besides Dr. Wettle and SCP-7132 leave the room. SCP-7132: I think that's it. I think I can leave now. Dr. Wettle: What? SCP-7132: You realize I'm the only one of my kind who's stayed this long, right? Dr. Wettle: … SCP-7132: Thank you for helping me write the story that finally got what I needed through my head. Dr. Wettle: I… I can't lose you! SCP-7132: You don't need to. You have our story, and a story lasts forever. No matter where you are, you can remember our story, and the growth and change it caused in you, and you'll have me in your memory. 21:30: SCP-7132 glows. She rises into the air, eyes closed, arms raised, and in a ball of fire and lightning, vanishes. An old man, the new iteration of SCP-7132, collapses onto the bed. TIME: 21:31 [END LOG] A painting, by an anonymous Site-43 staff member, of the last scene of SCP-7132 and Dr. Wettle's SCP-8132 campaign, as visualized through a storm drain. Addendum 8132-18: To: wwwettle@43Net From: ajmcinnis@43Net Subject: Let go of SCP-8132 Dr. Wettle: Please surrender SCP-8132 to Site Security by tomorrow morning. While I appreciate its' role in comforting SCP-7132, since that anomaly has left our custody, I've noticed a decrease in the quality of your and your co-workers' work. Security tapes show almost everyone in your testing group going to the shrine you have set up with SCP-8132 and pictures of SCP-7132 at least four times a day, and going through its' pages for at least a half-hour. SCP-7132 is gone, and while it is good to honor her memory, this form of mourning is unhealthy. Regards, Allan J. McInnis Director, Site-43 Addendum 8132-19 VIDEO LOG DATE: 02/12/2013 [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Blank: Have you all noticed something's up with Wettle? Dr. McDoctorate, Dr. Lillihammer, Dr. Sokolsky, Dr. Reynders, Delfina Ibanez, Dr. Ngo: Yes. Dr. Reynders: I imagine it's the loss of SCP-7132? Dr. Lillihammer: Yeah, that's probably it. She was a cool kid, after all, and no-one was closer to her than he. Dr. Lillihammer: I had a lot of fun testing that with you all. Dr. McDoctorate, Dr. Blank, Dr. Sokolsky, Dr. Reynders, Delfina Ibanez, Dr. Ngo: So did I. Dr. Lillihammer: But if Dr. Xettle were here, he'd probably say something stupid, or clever, something inspiring; something like… Dr. Lillihammer: Something like… Dr. Lillihammer: That's odd, I can't do Xettle's voice. Dr. Sokolsky: Then what would Dr. Millihammer say? Dr. Lillihammer: … Dr. Sokolsky: Well, Tokolsky would say… would say… Delfina Ibanez: Oh no. Dr. McDoctorate: We have to find Dr. Wettle. He'll know what's going on. Dr. Blank: Will he, though? Dr. McDocotorate: He has to. He tested it long before we did. 12:15: Dr. Blank, Dr. Wettle, Dr. Sokolsky, Delfina Ibanez, and Dr. McDoctorate run to Replication Studies, where they find Dr. Wettle, who is desperately searching through a filing cabinet of photocopies. Dr. Lillihammer: Where's our story, Wettle? We can't think our characters anymore! Dr. Wettle: I know that! Don't you think I know that? Dr. Wettle: I can barely… think… of her face… Dr. Blank: Well, then, what's happening? What can we do? Dr. Wettle: Wait! I found it! Dr. McDoctorate: What is it? Dr. Wettle: The license in the endpapers to SCP-8132! Dr. Wettle: "All ideas and stories made using the rules of the ViKarious ToMe™ are property of Vikander-Kneed Technical Media, and are licensed to you, the owner (s) of the ToMe™, for the duration of your ownership. When your ownership ceases, we will repossess those stories until such time as you re-obtain the ToMe™." TIME: 12:20 [END LOG] Footnotes 1. Mundane and Uneventful Data Evaluation 2. Page 1 is followed by page 1.1, or 1.001, for example, depending on how closely one scrutinizes the rules. 3. "Infoallergenic anomalies are an uncommon class of infohazard, capable of exhibiting both memetic and antimemetic properties."- SCP-3294. 4. RAISA approved this after months of lobbying from Dr. Lillihammer et al's campaign. 5. If you can call repeated attempted containment breaches "lobbying." - Rs. Chudley 6. Alleged attempted containment breaches, Chudley. The distinction is important. Or has your career in 'pataphysics made you confuse what is proven and what is rumour? - Dr. Lillihammer. 7. Don't bring 'pataphysics into this. SCP-8132 never had any meta-narrative properties. Besides, when the attack on your warehouse involves both powerful cognitohazards and mechanisms seemingly undone by sand, when the Overseers deny the involvement of certain of their most job-secure researchers, you cannot help your suspicions.- Rs. Chudley ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8132" by Alzin Cdag, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8132. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Pacific Black Ducks on pond ducking.jpg Author: Waylah License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported Source Link: Image Link Note: Edited by Alzin Cdag (see Vikarious Tome V2 below) Filename: vklogotransparent Author: Grigori Karpin License: CC BY-3.0 Source Link: Image Link Note: Edited by Alzin Cdag (see Vikarious Tome V2, Hummingoat, Sommelier below) Filename: Vikarious Tome V2 Author: Alzin Cdag License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Note: Made using the above two images, otherwise entirely drawn and created by author. (Note- this note in the license is copied from the license of SCP-7830) Filename: Alpensteinbock Capra ibex-0801.jpg Author: Isiwal License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: Image Link Note: Edited by Alzin Cdag (see Hummingoat below) Filename: Violet sabrewing (Campylopterus hemileucurus mellitus) male in flight.jpg Author: Charles J. 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(Note- this note in the license is copied from the license of SCP-7830) Filename: Photo de profil de Mese Kafui.jpg Author: Hermankass License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: Image Link Note: Edited by Alzin Cdag (see Sommelier below) Filename: Photo de profil de MawubeviSeth.jpg Author: Hermankass License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: Image Link Note: Edited by Alzin Cdag (see Sommelier below) Filename: Roughback batfish (Ogcocephalus parvus).jpg Author: NOAA's Fisheries Collection; SEFSC Pascagoula Laboratory; Collection of Brandi Noble, NOAA/NMFS/SEFSC License: Public Domain Source Link: Image Link Note: Edited by Alzin Cdag (see Sommelier below) Filename: Sebastien Descons Racing Metro training 2012-03-16.jpg Author: Marie-Lan Nguyen License: Creative Commons Attribution 2.5 Generic Source Link: Image Link Note: Edited by Alzin Cdag (see Sommelier below) Filename: A woman's eye.JPG Author: Petar Milošević License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported Source Link: Image Link Note: Edited by Alzin Cdag (see Sommelier below) Filename: The Peninsula Paris' Chinese restaurant LiLi, 12 August 2014.jpg Author: PPR 19, currently unavailable from Wikimedia Commons License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: Image Link Note: Edited by Alzin Cdag (see Sommelier below) Filename: Sommelier.png Author: Alzin Cdag License: CC-BY-SA 3.0 Note: Edited by Alzin Cdag from the previous pictures (Eye, Sebastien, Batfish, MawubeviSeth, Mese Kafui, vklogotransparent) Filename: Tijger (Panthera tigris).jpg Author: Lucawams (Wikimedia Commons) License: CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication Source Link: Image Link Note: Used as Reference by Alzin Cdag (see Stormdrain below) Filename: Panthera tigris altaica 12 - Buffalo Zoo.jpg Author: Dave Pape, Wikimedia Commons License: Public Domain Source Link: Image Link Note: Used as Reference by Alzin Cdag (see Stormdrain below) Filename: Bengal tiger (Panthera tigris tigris) female 3.jpg Author: Charles J. Sharp License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: Image Link Note: Probably (harder than the others to confirm, it's been a while since I used it and there are many similar pictures) used as reference by Alzin Cdag (see Stormdrain below) Filename: stormdrainv2 Author: Alzin Cdag License: CC-BY-SA 3.0 Note: Drawn by Alzin Cdag with reference to the previous pictures (tijger,female 3, zoo) Filename: 20230211 FIS Ski Jumping World Cup Women Hinzenbach Ajda Kosnjek 850 7041.jpg Author: Granada (Wikimedia Commons) License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source Link: Image Link Note: Used as Reference by Alzin Cdag (see SkiSamurai below) Filename: Katana (common shema).png Author: Jarok (Wikipedia) License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported Source Link: Image Link Note: Used as Reference by Alzin Cdag (see SkiSamurai below) Filename: skisamuraiv1 Author: Alzin Cdag License: CC-BY-SA 3.0 Note: Drawn by Alzin Cdag with reference to the previous pictures (katana, jumping) Filename: He is fond of flying (3016333087).jpg Author: National Library of Scotland; Photographer, David McLellan, 1918 License: Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International Licence Source Link: Image Link https://digital.nls.uk/first-world-war-official-photographs/archive/74548676#?c=0&m=0&s=0&cv=55&xywh=-139%2C-209%2C2777%2C2286 Note: Edited by Alzin Cdag (see emuplane below) Filename: Captive Red-tailed Hawk at Bacara.jpg Author: Steve Jurvetson License: Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic Source Link: Image Link Note: Edited by Alzin Cdag (see emuplane below) Filename: Dromaius novaehollandiae - Réserve africaine de Sigean 01.jpg Author: H. Zel, Wikimedia Commons License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported Source Link: Image Link Note: Edited by Alzin Cdag (see emuplane below) Filename: EmuPlane2 Author: Alzin Cdag License: CC-BY-SA 3.0 Note: Edited from Previous Pictures (Dromaius, Hawk, Fond of Flying, vklogotransparent) A small amount of text is taken from scp-3294, by Jack Ike, which is CC-BY-SA-3.0. |
SCP-8138 | euclid | Just Fragments Hub » SCP-8138 close Info X SCP-8138: Dead Man Walking Author: Doctor Scrappy There is more to it than there may initially seem. Item#: 8138 Level2 Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: caution link to memo Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8138 is to be contained within a modified humanoid anomaly cell, accommodating for its anomalous properties.1 The standard dietary regimen for humanoid anomalies is not to be provided to SCP-8138. It is to be allowed access to Site-67’s garden area,2 supervised by at least one member of Level 2 security staff. Any deviations in SCP-8138’s behavior (see below) are to be reported to Site Dir. B. Dellen immediately. Description: SCP-8138 designates a male human of Asian descent, standing at approximately 175 centimeters, identified as Caishen Feng.3 SCP-8138 does not display any need to intake sustenance, hydration, nor does it excrete any waste products; despite this, however, SCP-8138’s bodily functions continue to function within acceptable parameters. It is either unable or unwilling to move, nor does it respond to any attempts at communication, or outside stimulus. Appendix [8138-001] - History SCP-8138 came to the attention of the Foundation on 09/13/2011, where reports of an individual displaying its anomalous properties within the Tongji Hospital, Shanghai, China, emerged. It was discovered with several medical devices attached onto its body.4 A note was recovered alongside SCP-8138; it has been stored, designated, translated from the original Chinese and has been archived below: + [Access Document 8138-A] - [Access Granted] With breath I’ll miss you so long ago forever in memory I want tell you how much I love see you soon Appendix [8138-002] - Interview The following is an interview conducted by Dr. Adam Krug upon initial recovery of SCP-8138. + [Access Interview 8138-A] - [Access Granted] INTERVIEW 8138-A Interviewer: Dr. Adam Krug Interviewee: SCP-8138 [BEGIN RECORDING] (Dr. Krug enters the cell, a cup of coffee in hand, and sits down across SCP-8138.) (He places the cup of coffee onto the table between him and SCP-8138.) Dr. Krug: Greetings, Mr. Feng. I am Dr. Adam Krug of the Strategic Care Partner Foundation.5 Excuse the unusual circumstances. (5 seconds of silence. SCP-8138 remains unresponsive.) Dr. Krug: Could you please tell me about yourself? About your condition? (10 seconds of silence. SCP-8138 remains unresponsive.) Dr. Krug: Mr. Feng, I am unable to provide help if you don’t respond to my questions. (10 seconds of silence. SCP-8138 remains unresponsive.) Dr. Krug: (sighs) Then I will return at a later time, when you’re in condition of talking, Mr. Feng. (Dr. Krug motions for security personnel to unlock the door.) Dr. Krug: (whispers into hidden microphone) Subject unresponsive to all inquiries. Abort interview. (Dr. Krug stands up to leave.) (He reaches for his cup of coffee, but accidentally knocks it over. Contents spill onto SCP-8138.) Dr. Krug: Excuse me for the inconvenience, Mr. Feng! I… (SCP-8138 does not respond, nor move in any way.) (Dr. Krug remains there for 5 seconds, seemingly confused, before being urged out of the cell by security personnel.) [END RECORDING] Note: SCP-8138 provided new clothes. Dr. Adam Krug reprimanded for careless actions against an anomalous entity. - Site Dir. B. Dellen Appendix [8138-003] Note to all SCP-8138 personnel: Personnel have reported a distinct odor6 emanating from SCP-8138, while interacting or within the presence of it. This is considered normal, and any change in this phenomenon must be reported directly to me. - Site Dir. B. Dellen Footnotes 1. Due to this, a bathroom has been excluded from the cell’s layout. 2. As per the Ethics Committee’s accords for humanoid anomalies. 3. Born 03/21/193█. 4. Ventilator, IV drip, etc. 5. Foundation front company. 6. Typically described as ‘foul’ and generally unpleasant. » HUB « Next » ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8138" by Doctor Scrappy , from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8138. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. |
SCP-8140 | safe | Newly unearthed artifacts in Turkey, poisoned by the memories of their owners, reveal an heretofore unknown conflict between the proto-Daeva and the last remnants of SCP-1000. What follows is a haunting examination of loss and the futility of raging against trauma. close Info X More by this author Special Containment Protocols: Access to SCP-8140 instances is limited to appropriate research personnel and limited to handling of only one instance per seven-day period. Additionally, only three instances may be examined within a calendar month. Individuals who physically hold more than three instances in a month, no matter what the context, are to be held in secure ward of the Site-91 Medical Center and evaluated psychologically for trauma and potential danger to themselves and others. Internal Affairs Post Incident Debriefing 12 December, 2004 In your own words, can you tell me what happened? I don’t know where to begin. Why don’t you start with why? I couldn’t live with what happened. Nothing helped. I had to change it. When did you start letting this feeling interfere with the project? You’ve read the file, you know how it started. Humor me. Description: SCP-8140 is a collection of anomalous artifacts unearthed from an archaeological site outside the ruins of Göbekli Tepe, a settlement abandoned circa 8140 BCE located in the southeastern region of Anatolia. The artifacts exhibit a retroactive empirical ontological effect. When an individual manually handles an instance of SCP-8140 for the first time, they experience a lifelike hallucination consisting of the experiences of the artifact’s original owner. The period of time these experiences cover varies wildly; some have memories from a few moments and others contain years of information. Throughout the duration of the hallucination, the individual handling an instance of SCP-8140 experiences the memories as if they are the originating entity. This includes experiencing the events of a memory through the eyes of a perspective subject, but without complete disassociation as the observing individual is always aware of their own identity. The ontological effect consists of an atemporal transfer of information/experiences. Subjectively, the individual handling the instance of SCP-8140 experiences each set of memories as they occurred. Objectively, the amount of time during which the transfer of experience takes place is negligible, with a duration of usually less than a minute. The transition from subjective experience to baseline reality leads to some, if not all, of the following side effects: delirium; fatigue; agitation; slowed cognition; limited aphasia; prosopagnosia; derealization. These side effects last several minutes. The anomalous transmission of experiences from the artifact to holder exhibits significant mnestic properties – amnestic treatments have been entirely unsuccessful at erasing the memories transmitted. Each artifact found emits low levels of Akiva radiation, thus creating a baseline for identification. Previously excavated area at Göbekli Tepe. The artifacts exhibit cultural identifiers of the early Daevite civilization and another unknown culture, date to circa 9000 BCE +/- 100 years, and originate in a layer previously undiscovered in a nearby field outside Göbekli Tepe. Previously, this site yielded no anomalous artifacts, but a routine archaeological excavation early November 2004 revealed the heretofore unknown layer. The anomalous effect of the artifacts was first discovered upon the unearthing of SCP-8140-1, when a graduate student experienced what was described as a psychotic break after handling it. Embedded Foundation agents within the Sağlık Bakanlığı1 reported the archaeologist's symptoms. Foundation forces locked down the site under a cover story of methane deposits. The graduate student was subsequently interviewed while in hospital in Istanbul. Amnestics proved entirely unreliable, and the graduate student was recruited onto the project to assist Senior Researcher Nils Lindqvist. The Foundation seized the dig site, amnesticizing the other members of the research team. Site-91 Med Center 2 October, 2003 Where is she? Have you had someone take a look at that head wound? I asked you a goddamn question. Sir, you’re bleeding. If you want me to help you, I’m going to need you to calm down. Please sit. I don’t want to fucking sit. I need to know where my– Stop it. I’m going to help you. But either you sit so I can examine you, or I’ll sedate you. Fine. But if you tell me to calm down one more time, I will punch you in the face. Wouldn’t dream of it. Now let’s take a look at that gash. Private Research Log of Dr. Lindqvist 14 November, 2004. Malcolm has found the adjustment to life beyond the Veil hard, but his options were limited. Without the effect of amnestics, the Foundation couldn’t let him wander free knowing what he did. I guess the other option would have been to have him committed at home back in the UK, but given his firsthand experience with the site and his discovery of the anomaly, it seemed more productive to give him a job. After all, I was recruited in much the same way. SCP-8140-1 is bizarre. Ostensibly it resembles a sword from the iron age, but it dates to the late paleolithic and is entirely shaped from pieces of petrified wood which would be millions of years old. I say “shaped” because it does not seem to have been constructed in traditional ways but coaxed to grow into this shape. The pommel is larger than an ordinary human hand could easily manage and even in its damaged state it weighs nearly thirty kilograms, which would be far too heavy to wield. Strangest of all? The edges, although worn through time and pressure, are still sharp enough to cut skin. When Malcolm was packing it away, using reinforced containment gloves, he slipped and the edge cut through the glove and into his palm. A sword made from petrified wood countless centuries old cut through gloves that can resist hundreds of pounds of pressure and radiation, and into a man’s skin. Even without the memory transfer, it would be a startling anomaly. Malcolm’s description of the anomalous memories leaves a lot to be desired. He is mostly confused by the experience. I have him leading the excavation team to survey the area for any other hotspots of Akiva. I’ve decided to experience the memory transfer myself. 15 November, 2004. It’s not like anything I could have imagined. I was it. It was me. Don’t get me wrong, I could remember my own life, I was not delusional. But in that moment, I felt everything he (it?) felt. Okay, first things first. Description: I’m estimating that he was nearly three meters tall from the vantage of the battle. Incredibly strong, strong enough to hold that sword and he could swing it. Oh, could he swing it. This was the site of a major military action. Thousands of combatants, fighting with stone axes, spears and more of the thing like me or the thing I was. It’s confusing. The side effects wore off fast, but the memories, they’re not going anywhere. I could smell myself, itself, himself whatever. Wet skin and fur. Like a goddamn werewolf but not, definitely still a primate, but huge. He/I was fighting with two others like me, against these little goblin-like creatures. Humanoid, but made from mud and grass and blood? I don’t know. What they were didn’t matter because they were following a general, or commander. A woman in flowing robes of crimson, golden headdress, spear made from volcanic glass and her eyes… her eyes were on fire. Not literally, mind you. Just glowing with such anger. Like how dare we attack her?!?! Such disdain. I couldn’t understand anything she was saying but I knew we were against her and she was against us. I (he/it?) must’ve killed dozens of these small humanoid entities, but when we got close to the woman in charge she cut her palm and flung the blood at us, the droplets ripping towards us like a cannon, and then blackness. I need to speak with Director Varga, we need some way to record these experiences. I’ve heard of a device that can record someone’s dreams, maybe that could work. It’s hard to speak to every detail, so if we could record them it would better help us better understand. Pretty sure the woman I saw was a Daeva. This could be what I’ve been waiting for. The only reason to come back to work was this. Nothing else matters. Site-91 Office of the Director 2 October, 2003 This wasn’t your fault. Of course not. It was yours. That’s not fair. I’m all out of fair. All I have left is a burning hole in my stomach, and resentment. You made your choices and look what happened. I think it is time to consider counseling. I don’t need that. Go away. It’s not a request. You aren’t functioning, and we need you to function. Don’t forget what we are doing here. A piss poor job at containment with almost no serious attempt to understand these anomalies. I know you don’t believe that, not after all the work you’ve done here. I don’t know what I believe. All I know is how permanent this feels. I’d give anything to take the last day back and get her out of the site. I’m sorry. That doesn’t help me at all. SCP-8140-5 & -6. Numerous other instances of SCP-8140 were unearthed within a week of the initial discovery. Given the high potential for research purposes, Dr. Lindqvist was issued an approval for usage of a prototypical oneirosensory visualization recording (OVR) device.2 He began immediately cataloguing the various experiences stored within the artifacts. Testing Log Anomaly: SCP-8140-5 Description: Stone arrowheads carved with Daevite runes Personnel Present: Dr. Nils Lindqvist Date: 18 November, 2004 [Recording begins with a point-of-view perspective. A feminine arm, decorated in gold and topaz bangles, inscribes a Daevite rune on the forehead of a humanoid figure seemingly formed entirely of mud, blood, and grass.3 After the rune is finished, the golem awakens and the arms of a Daevite priestess help it to its feet. It shuffles from subject’s perspective to another woman standing near a wooden rack filled with weapons. The woman is dressed in red robes, with a breastplate made of lacquered wood slats overlaid with gold and precious stones. A long stone ceremonial double-edged dagger4 hangs from the other woman’s belt. The woman holds out a bow and arrows to the entity which takes them and walks outside the room.] What is this?5 [The perspective shifts as the subject walks to a first story window overlooking a garden. At the outskirts of the garden another Daevite priestess can be seen gathering the entities into two platoons of approximately forty entities.] Unknown: How do things progress? I understood that.6 [The view shifts over to the other priestess as she approaches the subject at the window.] Subject: With the grass children? Priestess: Yes, but the defense as a whole. Subject: It goes as well as can be expected, I guess. Given that I am the only one gifted enough to make the constructs, the progress is slow as you have seen. We should wait for reinforcement from Adytum.7 This isn’t useful. I don’t need to know how to make golems. Priestess: We have no time, they will be here soon. Subject: At least I will have a chance to see one of their tree warriors. Always wanted one for myself. Picture it: a cadre of animate trees leading our vanguard into a village. Stupendous. Priestess: Another day, Matriarch. Today we must create more grass-children to bolster our ranks. The scant conscripts we have here will not hold off the nightkin alone. Subject: Yes, alright. Priestess: Matriarch, may I ask you a question freely? Subject: This once. Priestess: Why did you and your sister-general preclude use of the ritual? What ritual? Tell me about that! Subject: It is not ready. She works towards the culmination, but it cannot be relied upon. Priestess: Could it have saved us? Subject: Maybe. But we will have to rely on each other and the conscripts, daughter. The Font will lend us her life-affirming vigor for the strength to push back the barbarians. Priestess: The Font provides, Matriarch. Subject: Indeed. [The subject POV moves back to the table and she begins shaping another body out of a mixture of clay, grass and blood. She whispers to herself.] Subject: But will that be enough? END OF LOG Site-91 Psychologist’s Office 21 October, 2003 Have you thought about what we talked about last session? No, I’m a child. Yes, of course I thought about it. I’ve been given psychological leave, I don’t have anything else to do. And what result? …that I don’t actually blame Varga. No? It was easier to blame her than face up to reality. And what is that reality? That I blame me. Why do you feel that way? We weren’t even supposed to be at the Site that day, I just needed to pick something up from my quarters. If I hadn’t forgotten it, maybe… You can’t think like that. It happened, and there’s no changing it now. No. But I wish there was. SCP-8140-8. Once testing began, Dr. Lindqvist requested access to SCP-140 to compare the visions he experienced against the only historical record of the Daevite people. Access was granted, on the requirement that he only do so under guard to stop any expansions from taking place. Cross referencing the text of the book versus a log of changes that had occurred since SCP-140 was first contained by the Foundation, Dr. Lindqvist came to several conclusions: a) SCP-140 did have reference to the battle in the area of southeastern Anatolia around the time period these artifacts were originating from; and b) this episode of Daevite history was not previously on evidence within SCP-140. Instead, the book had previously been fairly vague on the history of the early empire. This new addition to the history of the Daeva manifested recently and had not been recorded. It is unclear who might be responsible for the expansion. Daevite Magic and SCP-140 The Foundation has discovered at least two anomalies created with the purpose of retrieving victory from defeat by changing the outcomes of events. Philosophically, the Daeva had little respect for the concept of time. They viewed events as malleable in everyday life, at least for the Daevas themselves. Somehow, over their multiple millennia-spanning history, the ruling classes of the Empire were able to harness thaumaturgical rituals to rewrite events and retroactively change the results. An instance of SCP-140. Of particular note, is SCP-140 – a history book entitled “A Chronicle of the Daevas” which is also a retrocausal anomaly that compels the reader to expand the history of the Daeva. Each expansion of the material in the book causes reality to warp to match what the expansion of the book reflects, retroactively. After indication in the book after an expansion event, archaeologists have found evidence of the Daeva at sites that previously held no such layers. Although the Daeva are responsible for a variety of anomalous items and rituals, the most intrinsically bound with the survival of their culture was that of the retrocausal thaumaturgic ritual. It was this that Dr. Lindqvist assumed the Daevites present in SCP-8140’s anomalous memories were attempting to achieve. Testing Log Anomaly: SCP-8140-8 Description: Shield, roughly 1.3 meters in diameter, made entirely of petrified wood. Personnel Present: Dr. Nils Lindqvist Date: 20 November, 2004 [Similar to other tests, the recording begins with a point-of-view perspective, this time amongst shrubs and sparse trees in a landscape similar to the area around the archaeological dig. The perspective is at least two meters off the ground and the view pans around to frame several large primate entities covered in fur. The subject raises an arm with a wooden spear and points to a temple complex and surrounding village approximately five hundred meters away.8] Subject: [INDECIPHERABLE.]9 [One of the other primates turns to the trees and makes a warbling call. The trees begin to move and stretch until they resemble roughly humanoid shapes. Eight such arboreal entities raise their arms and respond to the call of the furred entity.] Those remind me of SCP-3140. Good god, were those previously the creation of a different culture? [Perspective subject raises SCP-8140-8 and pounds the spear against it. In the direction of the village, a group of figures can be seen running towards the subject. Several more primates fall in beside the subject and begin advancing along with the arboreal entities. Subject looks left and then right, revealing more than forty of the large primates and another dozen arboreal entities. As one, they begin running towards the village and temple. A different primate leaps in the air toward the other force rushing out of the village; it is clearly holding a sword similar to SCP-8140-1. The figures are revealed to be approximately eighty humanoid golems of the sort seen previously. Each of the golems are holding stone weapons: spears, clubs and bows.] Subject: [Screaming] [INDECIPHERABLE.] [The two parties smash together in a melee. A grass entity’s spear stabs the subject in the chest, but the subject rips the spear out of it and slams its shield into the golem. The smaller entity falls to the ground. The subject lifts the golem into the air, grasps it by the arms and legs, and rips it in two. The battle continues for several minutes, with the primates and their arboreal allies overpowering the grass golems but taking several casualties. The recording ends when the subject is hit with several arrows in the neck and chest, collapsing into the dirt.] END OF LOG Private Research Log of Dr. Lindqvist 21 November, 2004. Each new vision is filled with more and more violence. I will spare the file from too many repetitious records. Hard to say what the motivations of the primate entities are, as we cannot discern their speech from the recordings. They organize strategically and use weapons, showing clear signs of sapience and culture. I’m more interested by the Daeva. No one knew there was any such conflict in their history. Does that mean it hadn’t happened before the most recent expansion of SCP-140? Or did the expansion reveal this heretofore unknown history? They fascinate me. Rewriting history to suit their needs. Battle lost? Change it. Bad day? Do it over. I would give anything to have that power. To change just that one day. I’m sure none of the Daeva stared at their ceiling at night, wondering when the pain would stop. I don’t wonder when the pain will stop. It’s all that’s left. If I didn’t have that anymore, where would she be? Site-91 Psychologist’s Office 19 June, 2004 I should have been there. No, you shouldn’t have. What would you have done if you were? Something more useful than bending over a hospital bed and weeping. We’ve talked about this before. You can’t keep raging against the universe. What can I say? I like a good bargain. I’m not convinced we’re at that stage. We aren’t at anything, doctor. I’m the one dealing with this. You need to reach out to friends. I can’t see how that would help. I can only think of one thing that would. And what is that? If time worked backwards. Debriefing Transcript 22 November, 2004 Director Varga: Thanks for coming in so early, Nils. Dr. Lindqvist: No problem, I would have anyway just to get a jump on the cataloguing. Director Varga: That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Dr. Lindqvist: SCP-8140? Director Varga: In a roundabout way. I’ve reviewed the test logs you’ve recorded in the last week and I’ve seen several things that made this meeting imperative. Are you familiar with SCP-1000? Dr. Lindqvist: No, I am not. Director Varga: I’m upping your clearance level for this project, Doctor. The reason I’m telling you this is that nothing about this file can be revealed to staff not cleared to know the information. [Varga passes a thick manila envelope across the desk towards Lindqvist, who begins to leaf through.] Ten minutes omitted for brevity. Dr. Lindqvist: Why was I not informed of this from the beginning? Director Varga: It wasn’t relevant to the anomaly until I reviewed the test results. Now it is. Dr. Lindqvist: I’m at a loss for words. An entire civilization of another species that pre-dates recorded history, that somehow we’ve all forgotten? Director Varga: Yes, I know it’s a lot to take in. Dr. Lindqvist: I’ll want to review any and all archaeological records we have from SCP-1000. Director Varga: That’s the thing, Nils. There aren’t any. We’ve never identified an archaeological site confirmed to be from the Children of the Night. Dr. Lindqvist: None? Director Varga: [Shaking her head.] Ancient humanity did the job too thoroughly, some sort of ontokinetic wipe on a universal level. We know they existed, we know the civilization spread all over the world, but they vanished without a trace into obscurity. Which is why you can appreciate how important this site is, I hope? They’ve lived on the margins of humanity for centuries now, and this is the first real insight into their actions from antiquity. Dr. Lindqvist: But according to the file, that happened in the stone age. Director Varga: Which begs the question how this active force took military action against the early Daevites? I don’t know what to make of that. Dr. Lindqvist: I do. Director Varga: What? Dr. Lindqvist: SCP-140. It changes reality retrocausally. Apparently, not solely for the Daeva. Director Varga: So, someone expanded SCP-140 extending the influence of the Children of the Night further into the future? Why? Dr. Lindqvist: We don’t know how SCP-140 works. We don’t know if some anomalous effect within the book seeks its own purposes or the person expanding the history follows their own mandate. All we know is the effect such expansions have. I wouldn’t be surprised if we find more archaeological data pertaining to SCP-1000 after this. Director Varga: Which makes it even more imperative to find out what you can about them through SCP-8140. Dr. Lindqvist: Yes, of course. But it’s even more interesting to understand how SCP-140 and Daevite thaumaturgy can affect causality in general. Think of the possibilities? Director Varga: Nils, no. We can’t go messing with the timeline. Experimentation with SCP-140 is strictly forbidden all the way up to the O5s themselves. Dr. Lindqvist: Right, of course. Forget I said anything. END OF LOG Private Research Log of Dr. Lindqvist 22 November, 2004. Fools. If they had an ounce of courage, maybe we wouldn’t have to die in the dark. Maybe, we could protect those people that deserved it. Site-91 Lindqvist’s Personal Quarters 30 June, 2004 Wait, what are you saying? Who says I have to accept how it happened? I don’t understand. It didn’t need to happen that way, so why not change it? Have you been taking your medication? Listen to me! It’s not impossible. Look at our lives, madness and magic are our every day. There’s a thousand ways it could work. You’re really starting to worry me, so I’m gonna go. Please try to accept what happened… This really isn’t healthy. Doesn’t have to be this way. SCP-8140-A, with sole documentable glyph identified. SCP-8140-11. On 23 November, 2004, a previously undocumented subterranean chamber (SCP-8140-A) was discovered at the dig site. SCP-8140-A contains several Daevite thaumaturgical sigils across its walls, all but one of which are imperceptible, even under the influence of mnestics. Each image of the chamber exhibited ontokinetic properties such that 99% of the sigils carved into the rockface were unintelligible and often appeared blurred on photographs. The remaining sigil, pictured above, notably resembles those making up SCP-2140. Only this sigil is perceptible to observers. Nearly a dozen new instances of SCP-8140 were recovered in the chamber, marking it as the highest density of the anomalous artifacts found to date. Testing Log Anomaly: SCP-8140-11 Description: Breastplate with eroded bas relief, constructed out of petrified wood. Personnel Present: Dr. Nils Lindqvist Date: 28 November, 2004 [The perspective subject is looking down at SCP-8140-11 while standing in a dwelling made from a hollowed out tree measuring approximately fifteen meters in diameter. A bed of leaves is just beyond the breastplate, next to a chair seemingly grown directly out of the tree’s inner surface. The subject picks up SCP-8140-11 and begins fastening it to its chest. The subject is an instance of SCP-1000.] [Subject moves out of the dwelling, pushing aside a woven grass curtain acting as a door. Thousands of trees surround the subject, many of them as large as a house. From each, one or two instances of SCP-1000 emerge. As one the thousands of primates move in a single direction. The subject, along with its fellow instances, marches through the forest for several minutes until a large circular clearing is reached. The clearing is made up of a depression in the earth nearly one hundred meters wide, and several descending layers of rock outcroppings resembling an arena. At the center of the depression, a single SCP-1000 instance is standing on a dais of raised earth. The subject finds a seat on the stones and is slowly surrounded by thousands of other instances. When the circular clearing is filled with seated primates, the instance on the dais begins to speak in a booming voice.] SCP-1000 Leader: Children of the Night, I welcome you. We have not met in such numbers for many long years. Our numbers have dwindled for centuries since the Night of the Flowers, and this is one of the few remaining outposts of our once great civilization. What the? I can understand them now?10 SCP-1000 Leader: So, I thank you for coming. I know our time is past, and we have been forced into the margins of existence on a planet we nurtured while the humans spread like wildfire, but this meeting is not to discuss what we have lost. We have gathered today to discuss war. [Many SCP-1000 instances gasp or begin talking amongst themselves. The perspective subject does not say anything or look around it, instead focusing keenly on the leader on the dais.] SCP-1000 Leader: Please! I know we have all suffered because of the War against humanity. I too suffered. But hear me out. [The amphitheater grows quiet again. The perspective subject grips its hands on the edge of its breast plate, tensing against the petrified wood.] SCP-1000 Leader: Not far from here, to the east and the north, a series of human city states are joining together into an empire. They are not like other humans, their technology and ritual might are impressive. Many of you are aware of the danger these humans present. But for those that do not, they call themselves the Daeva. They are worshippers of blood while calling themselves guardians of life. They enslave all cultures they encounter as their influence grows. And they sacrifice their children to gods we cannot even imagine. [Murmuring can be heard all around the subject. It turns to a small group of SCP-1000 instances whispering to each other in an animated way. It shushes them with barely restrained rage. The subject returns its attention to the dais.] SCP-1000 Leader: We are the guardians of life on this planet, we always have been. The humans despoil all land they touch. But these humans are worse than the small villages we’ve seen in other parts of the world. These are an empire, devoted to death while claiming a mantle that we were cheated of. Soon, this empire will be pushing into our territory. Even now they are founding a colony centered around a temple, just a few days' march from this very spot. SCP-1000 Leader: If they weren’t threatening this last stronghold of our people, I would not make such a plea to the Assembly. But as it stands this empire will be within our forest in a few years, raping it and killing our children for their disgusting rituals. I know we have suffered. I know there are but a few thousand of us left here. But I ask you, will you stand by and wait for this empire to claim our birthright? Will you cower when the enemy is on our very thresholds? [The amphitheater is quiet for a few moments. Then the perspective subject stands and calls out, its voice booming across the amphitheater.] Subject: NO! [Many more SCP-1000 instances stand and echo the call.] SCP-1000 Leader: Will you beg these human women, dressed in blood and gold, when they take their stone knives to your neighbors? Many voices: NO! SCP-1000 Leader: Then I beg you, return to your homes, wake up the tree guardians, take up your weapons and meet me at the northern edge of the forest tomorrow at dusk, and we shall march on their hive like a landslide. [The SCP-1000 leader on the dais raises its own sword.] SCP-1000 Leader: March with me until every last one of the Daeva threatening our forest is a stain on their rock walls. March with me and know battle once again. [Many thousands of SCP-1000 instances cheer and begin filing out of the amphitheater towards their homes.] SCP-1000 Leader: Then it is war. Subject: [Whispering.] Finally. END OF LOG Internal Affairs Post Incident Debriefing 12 December, 2004 When did you start ignoring protocol? Within a week of returning to duty. How? I began keeping a research log, but not recording it in the file. Used an old typewriter I had. We know that. Of course you do. How else? I started cataloguing the artifacts without recording them into the file too. All of the artifacts? No. Not all of them. I focused on those that might get me what I wanted. And what did you want? You know what I goddamn wanted. Please, for the record. I wanted to change the past. Testing Log Anomaly: SCP-8140-A111 Description: Daevite sigil carved into the rockface within a chamber found below the ruins. Personnel Present: Dr. Nils Lindqvist Date: 28 November, 2004 [Perspective subject is carving the rock face with Daevite sigils with an obsidian athame. As she finishes each sigil the image blurs.12 Much of the ceiling of the chamber is already blurred, indicating the presence of the anti-memetic sigils.] What are you doing? [Perspective subject begins carving a new sigil beneath the most recent one when she turns sharply. A Daevite priestess cloaked in red sweeping fabric, delicate gold bangles down each arm, and a gold diadem on her head comes into the room.] Priestess: Sister, how go the preparations. [The subject wipes at her forehead. Rock shavings and dust fall away in front of the view.] Subject: They proceed. Has the attack begun? Priestess: No, but our scouts have identified a force of significant strength. Several thousand of the apes approach the village walls. Subject: How is Linessa faring with the grass children? Priestess: She has made several thousand. The forces will be of similar strength and we still have the slave warriors. Subject: Then we will be fine. [Subject turns back to her work on the wall.] Priestess: No, the apes are very powerful. And we have never seen them in such numbers. But each is easily the match for three or four armed men or grass children. Subject: Then it is imperative that I finish. Show me how it works, damn it! What are you doing? Subject: You’re still here. Priestess: Matriarch, excuse my candor. But we have little time left. Can the ritual do what you have promised? Subject: Yes. Priestess: It can preserve our lives? Subject: Yes, even reaching through the skeins of time to do so. Now leave me. Is this it? How does it work? [Subject inspects her work, brushing away the dust and rock splinters. She is working on the sigil that is still perceivable to the modern day.] END OF LOG Site-91 Office of the Director 10 November, 2004 And you think you’re ready to come back? Of course. I wouldn’t be in this office if I wasn’t. The psychological report has you fit for duty, but they have some concerns. You ever lost someone? Yes. Like that? I’ve lost colleagues in containment breaches before, it’s hard to get to this point in my career without it. Colleagues. I know that’s not the same. It really isn’t. So why come back now? Cabin fever. Exhaustion. The need to be productive again? Take your pick. There’s an archaeological dig, in Turkey, where we think some anomalous activity is happening. Could be the sort of reentry that will ease you back in. I’ll take it. Testing Log Anomaly: SCP-8140-11 [continued] Description: Breastplate with eroded bas relief, constructed out of petrified wood. Personnel Present: Dr. Nils Lindqvist Date: 28 November, 2004 [Subject is moving through the streets of a small town made up of mud and stone huts. It carries a sword similar to SCP-8140-1. Several SCP-1000 instances walk with it. They are covered in cuts and have fur matted with blood. Each is wearing a breastplate similar to the subject.] Subject: Move forward, we need to secure the temple! [One of the SCP-1000 instances motions to a nearby group of arboreal entities and they begin advancing around a corner. Suddenly, they are backing up and taking cover behind the huts to either side of the street. Several dozen of the golems and several armed human soldiers round the corner carrying weapons. The subject roars and swings its sword at the nearest, cleaving a golem in two and kicking a human soldier in the chest, sending him flying backwards. The SCP-1000 instance and arboreal entities that had retreated behind the huts flank the small group of enemies, plunging into their mass with blades and spears. The arboreal entities tear golems apart and fling the remains into the walls of nearby huts.] Subject: Keep up the pressure! [The golems and human slave warriors surround the handful of SCP-1000 instances. There are five armored primates to approximately fifteen of the Daeva forces. The subject screams into the face of a soldier as it runs the man through on its sword, then tosses the body aside.] [A stone arrow hits the subject in the chest, glancing off its breastplate. Another embeds itself in the meat of the primate’s thigh. The subject ignores the wound and spins, catching another of the soldiers with an upward slash, eviscerating him. One of the other SCP-1000 instances falls, impaled on a pike. Another sweeps forward with a sword like the subject’s and kills two of the golems in a single blow. Another takes an arrow in the stomach, just below the breastplate. It roars in pain, throwing a spear which bursts through a golem’s chest and into the human soldier behind it, pinning them both to the ground.] [A small group of golems rush down the street, followed by a woman in crimson robes. She slashes with her athame at the SCP-1000 instance commanding the arboreal entities. The long ritual knife slices clean through the primate’s throat and it drops to its knees, blood flowing out onto the packed earth of the street.] Priestess: Do not let them see your fear. The Font provides! [An SCP-1000 instance approaches the subject as the fighting lulls around them.] SCP-1000 instance: What did she say? Subject: Who knows? [Turning to the other SCP-1000 instances around it.] Kill them all! [The fighting continues for another seven minutes, in which time the SCP-1000 instances kill all the golems and human soldiers. They lose all but two of their own number. The subject, wounded and exhausted, approaches the Daevite priestess who is on her knees, pressing one hand to a wound in her side and holding the blade out in front of her defensively. The subject bats the knife away from the priestess, sending the blade sliding across the thoroughfare and breaking her wrist. She moans in pain. The subject wraps its hands in the folds of her robes and hauls her to her feet, blood spraying from her wound. The subject brings its face in close to hers.] Subject: We are your better. We don’t need to use slaves to fight for us. You are not the guardians of life. Priestess: Barbarian. Scum. The Font will provide, even if it does so after my death. You are nothing. Subject: I don’t understand a word you’re saying. [The subject places its large hand over the top of her head, and twists. The vertebra in her neck pop in a loud shearing noise. The subject drops the body to the dirt. Only now does it remove the arrow from its thigh. The other SCP-1000 instance brings a compress and wraps a woven grass bandage around the wound.] Subject: Enough. To the temple. SCP-1000 instance: Shouldn’t we wait for reinforcement? Subject: No. These women are up to something. The closer we get to the temple the harder their forces fight. SCP-1000 instance: They’re protecting it. Subject: Or someone. We take them now, in their nest. Site-91 Psychologist Office 24 November, 2004 Why am I still coming to you? I was declared fit. Yes, but the Director wants to ease you back into life at work. It’s insulting. I’m sure it’s not intended to be. Well, it is. We’ve made a lot of progress, but this sort of trauma is hard to shake. I’m fine. Are you? What about the nightmares? Mostly gone. Mostly. Yes, not entirely. Tell me about that. What’s there to tell? They happen every so often but not nearly as often as they once did. How often? Couple times a week. Are they still interfering with your sleep? Not as badly. That’s good. So, you’ve accepted what happened? Absolutely. Can’t change the past, right? Private Research Log of Dr. Lindqvist 30 November, 2004. Where is it? It has to be here. It’s in the cave, whatever it is, but I don’t understand how it works. I’ll never have a better opportunity to learn directly from the Daeva. To see as they saw and experience their rituals firsthand. Just haven’t found the right artifact yet. Have to keep looking. Site-91 Med Center 2 October, 2003 Can I see her now? Yes, now that you’re not bleeding all over my waiting room floor. This way. How is she? I won’t lie to you, your sister was seriously injured. Jesus, she looks like she was in a car accident. How did this happen? I don’t know the details, but it happened during the containment breach. She’s suffered significant blunt trauma and has first degree burns over 20% of her body. Oh my god. I can’t believe this. I know it’s hard, but we’re going to need you to give some details on her medical history. Of course. I’ll help any way I can. Is she going to be ok? Too early to say, I don’t want to give you false hopes. She still has some internal bleeding which we plan to address with more surgery this evening. What are these machines? Just a precaution, she is breathing on her own but we have her intubated and monitored in case that changes. Christ, what’s that noise? Nurse! Crash cart! Code Blue! What’s happening?!? Orderly, please remove Dr. Lindqvist. Get your hands off me! What’s happening? Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Goddamnit. Tell me what’s happening! Doctor? Please. On 1 December, 2004, Dr. Lindqvist’s assistant, Malcolm, called in to Site-91. He expressed worry about Dr. Lindqvist’s mental state, alleging the doctor hadn’t slept in two days and was cataloguing artifacts multiple times a day. This alerted Director Varga, because only a partial record had been made part of the official file and this meant many recordings were being intentionally omitted from reports. Security personnel were alerted and asked to secure the doctor until Director Varga could get onsite. Incident Log 2 December, 2004 02:35 [Dr. Lindqvist is in the ad hoc artifact storage chamber erected onsite. Shelving lines the walls, containing sealed boxes with labels for SCP-8140 artifacts. He is standing in front of a steel table, his fingers clasped around an urn of Daevite manufacture. He staggers from the table, releasing the urn. His hands are shaking and he is covered in a thin sheet of sweat visible on recording.] Dr. Lindqvist: Dammit. No good. 02:38 [Two security agents enter the testing chamber, Edwards and Callas. One is holding zipties, and both have their hands on holstered sidearms at their belts. Dr. Lindqvist looks up as they enter.] Agent Callas: Sir, we’re going to need you to step away from the artifact. Put your hands behind your back. Dr. Lindqvist: Who the fuck are you?13 Get out! Agent Edwards: Doctor, you know us. Director Varga has ordered you to be secured until such time as she can appraise the project. Dr. Lindqvist: I don’t know you. I don’t have time for this! [Lindqvist is visibly shaking and waving his arms in an animated fashion. He pushes past Edwards, who attempts to grasp the doctor’s wrist. Lindqvist shoves the agent against the steel table, surprising him. Callas unholsters her weapon.] Agent Callas: Doctor, please calm down. Do not make me use force. Dr. Lindqvist: Who the fuck are you people? You want my research? You can’t have it. I’ve worked too hard on this. I need this. Get out of my way. [Agent Edwards regains his feet and extracts a collapsible baton from his belt, and approaches Lindqvist.] Agent Callas: Please, let’s calm down. Dr. Lindqvist: Fuck off! [Edwards tries to grab for Dr. Lindqvist, who scrambles out of the way and picks up SCP-8140-1 in both hands from a table nearby. Edwards swings his telescoping baton at the doctor but he brings the sword up in defense, slicing through the baton and then slashing across Edwards' chest and almost severing his arm. Blood sprays across the doctor and Callas.] [Callas fires her sidearm, hitting the doctor in the side which sends him stumbling. He catches himself on a table. Dr. Lindqvist screams at Callas and throws the sword at the agent. Callas fires again but misses as the hilt of the heavy sword strikes her in the face, knocking her down. She appears unconscious.] 02:43 [Dr. Lindqvist staggers out of the storage area carrying a containment box labelled SCP-8140-16. He is still wearing the OVR and holding his wounded side, bleeding heavily. The doctor stumbles through the dig site towards the entrance to SCP-8140-A.] END OF LOG Stone tunnel leading to SCP-8140-A. SCP-8140-16. Three hours after the events in the above log, Director Varga and a company of security personnel landed at the dig site. The site was secured quickly, the personnel roused from their beds and taken for debriefing. Dr. Lindqvist was found in the antechamber designated SCP-8140-A. His heart rate was dangerously low, and he had lost several pints of blood. The doctor was airlifted to secure medical facilities in Istanbul and treated for his wounds. He was in surgery for fourteen hours and in critical condition but stable for the next three days. Agent Callus was treated for concussion, but Edwards had succumbed to his wounds from copious bleeding from the left upper extremity where SCP-8140-1 had injured him. When he was found, Dr. Lindqvist was clutching SCP-8140-16 and still wearing the OVR. The data was recovered, and the following is a log of what was recorded. Testing Log Anomaly: SCP-8140-16 Description: Knife hilt, human rib – carved with Daevite sigils. Personnel Present: Dr. Nils Lindqvist Date: 2 December, 2004 [Perspective subject is carving a channel into the floor of the stone chamber designated SCP-8140-A with a ritual athame.14 The subject finishes the channel, joining it to itself in a wide circle. She beckons to someone and a slave approaches.] Subject: Kneel. Here. [She indicates next to the channel carved in the floor. The slave hesitates but then upon making eye contact with the subject, obeys. He is shaking.] Subject: For the lives of the Sisters of True blood. For the defense of our temple to your glory. For the continued blessings of your providence. I offer you, spirit of life, the creator of all things, our Font of Existence, this sacrifice. Preserve us. YES. SHOW ME WHAT I NEED TO KNOW. [Subject slashes across the slave's throat and then guides the body down slowly, so that his blood fills into the channel. She begins murmuring to herself in an unintelligible manner. The slave’s body begins to thrash as his blood pours out. The subject inserts her knife into the back of his skull with a quick, sure strike, destroying the brainstem. The thrashing ceases. The channel has filled with blood and is moving circularly in a pulsating manner through the channel. The subject looks up as the Daevite priestess who came before her in the previous memory reappears at the entrance to the chamber. She is wounded and covered in dust.] Priestess: [Falling to her knees.] They… are… coming. [The subject gestures to the slaves and golems standing around the entrance way, and they file out into the tunnel. Quickly afterwards noises of battle are heard, and guttural screams from the slaves. A bestial howl echoes down the tunnel. A few moments later, limping, the SCP-1000 instance wearing SCP-8140-11 appears at the entrance to the chamber. It is significantly wounded, bleeding not just from the wound in the thigh received earlier in the battle but also exhibiting a deep gash in the left forearm and another across its eyes and trailing back along the crown of its skull. The large primate shuffles forward.] SCP-1000 instance: You are done. Your people and slaves are routed. I doubt any of your sisters live. What do you hope to gain with this blood magic? Subject: I can’t understand a word you’re saying. [Subject slashes down the primate’s chest, cutting through the bindings of the breastplate and causing it to clatter to the floor of the chamber. She slashes again before the primate can complete the swing of its sword, cutting through inner elbow. The sword travels through the air despite the damage caused, striking the subject in the left side of her torso above the waist and cutting through into her sternum. She gasps and chokes out a spurt of blood.] SCP-1000 instance: Now die. [The primate reaches for her with its good arm, having dropped the sword. Just as its fingers brush the subject’s throat, she plunges the athame into the primate’s throat in an upward swing, piercing through its jaw and into the brain. The SCP-1000 instance falls directly onto the open channel filled with the slave’s blood. The subject collapses as well and lays across the body of the primate. Their blood mingles into the channel. As the subject’s eyes fight to stay open, the blade of the obsidian athame deteriorates and crumbles to dust. Daevite sigils begin manifesting along the hilt as if burned by a brand.15 The hilt falls to the dirt and then the scene dissolves into blackness.] END OF LOG Post Incident Analysis: It was determined in review of the relevant recordings that Dr. Lindqvist had been hiding significant cataloguing activities from the Foundation, especially those artifacts with a Daevite origin. It was further determined that Dr. Lindqvist did this in order to learn something of Daevite ritual thaumaturgy for a specific purpose. Dr. Lindqvist assumed that the Daevite priestess present in SCP-8140-A was attempting to rewrite history. Consulting with Site-91 thaumatologists and historians, Director Varga has come to a different conclusion – the Daevite priestess intended to preserve their struggle for those of her culture to find afterwards. There was no retrocausal aspect to this anomaly, merely an attempt to preserve a record of the conflict. The final moments of the last log reveal the mixing of SCP-1000 blood with the ritual workings in SCP-8140-A. It is theorized that this is why their memories are also preserved as it is unlikely that the Daeva intended to preserve a record of a culture they thought so little of. Private Research Log of Dr. Lindqvist 30 November, 2004. The Daeva changed the way their entire civilization ended, multiple times. Avoided catastrophic losses and the results of revolution and sustained disastrous wars. All retroactively, thousands of years later. All I want to do is change one single event. One single day played out differently, and she would still be alive. That shouldn’t be so hard. After recovery, Dr. Lindqvist was put through a battery of psychological assessments due to the violent nature of his actions. It was determined that continued handling of SCP-8140 instances had a cumulative effect on his psyche further worsening the post-traumatic stress disorder from the death of his sister one year prior to the discovery of the artifacts. Given the dangers of cumulative side effects from handling the artifacts, the containment procedures have been adjusted accordingly. After debriefing, Dr. Lindqvist was amnesticized and returned to work on SCP-8140 under supervision of security staff. Even though the anomalous transfer of memories from the artifacts could not be erased, the events of Dr. Lindqvist’s life could be. It was decided that due to the nature of his history it was appropriate that his memories leading up to his involvement with SCP-8140 would have to be erased in order to guarantee his ability to return to work, up to and including the loss of his sister.16 A cover story concerning her transfer to another facility under classified security has been implemented. Footnotes 1. Turkish Ministry of Health. 2. The device records digital rendering of a subject’s dreams, and was theorized to be capable of capturing the anomalous transmission of memories from SCP-8140. 3. Designated 'golems'. 4. Often described as an athame. 5. The OVR records the thoughts of the individual whose dream is being observed. 6. Consulting with the Department of History after testing, Dr. Lindqvist concluded that the women were speaking ancient Daevite. But invariably, the translation was accomplished anomalously, easily understood by any observer of the recording, no matter what their specific language fluencies. 7. The memory apparently pre-dates the Sarkic revolution centered around that city. 8. Theorized to be Göbekli Tepe, at the height of its occupation. 9. The entity’s speech does not match up to any known language within the Foundation’s databases. 10. It has been theorized that Dr. Lindqvist’s debriefing concerning the existence of SCP-1000 unlocked a memetic block that had previously caused their speech to be unintelligible. Given the nature of SCP-1000’s history and the ontokinetic nature of their defeat, it is possible that without direct knowledge of their existence even the anomalous nature of SCP-8140 could not overcome the centuries of memetic encoding that have erased SCP-1000 from humanity’s collective memory. 11. This log was not originally made part of the file but has been recovered in the aftermath and integrated with the record as a whole. 12. Observers of the recording universally report that the memory of the sigil’s image is lost. 13. Dr. Lindqvist was fully aware of both agents’ identity, they had been assigned to the dig site since discovery. 14. The handle is identical to SCP-8140-16 but lacks the sigils. Additionally, the delicate obsidian blade lacks any visible damage despite the priestess using the blade to carve rock. 15. Matching the designs currently displayed on SCP-8140-16. 16. As sanctioned by the Ethics Committee. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8140" by Grigori Karpin, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8140. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Sword Author: The Swedish History Museum License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Link Additional Notes: Used in below image; Edited by Grigori Karpin Filename: Mark 379a Author: mark byzewski License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Link Additional Notes: Used in below image; Edited by Grigori Karpin Filename: Petrified wood Author: kate ure License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Link Additional Notes: Used in below image; Edited by Grigori Karpin Filename: sandpaper board Author: BeckyF License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Link Additional Notes: Used in below image; Edited by Grigori Karpin Filename: SCP-8140 Sword Author: Grigori Karpin License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Link Additional Notes: Edited by Grigori Karpin using the above four images. Filename: Göbekli Tepe, Urfa.jpg Author: Teomancimit License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Link Additional Notes: Edited by Grigori Karpin Filename: Glyph3PetrogradFixed.png Author: Petrograd License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Link Additional Notes: Created using free fonts by from Juan Carlos Porcel https://elderprops.tumblr.com/post/89934858272/free-fonts-necrofonticon2 and originally used in SCP-2140. Filename: Caynton Caves Author: Michael Scott/Schantelle License: Public Domain Source Link: Link Additional Notes: Edited by Grigori Karpin Filename: Coimbra Author: Michael Kogan License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Link Additional Notes: Edited by Grigori Karpin Other Artifact examples Filename: Paleolithic Stone Tools Author: Gary Todd License: Public Domain Source Link: Link Additional Notes: Edited by Grigori Karpin Filename: Shield Author: Los Angelese County Museum of Art License: Public Domain Source Link: Link Additional Notes: Edited by Grigori Karpin Filename: Breastplate Author: Walters Art Museum License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Link Additional Notes: Edited by Grigori Karpin Filename: Free Texture #118 Author: Brenda Clarke License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Link Additional Notes: Edited by Grigori Karpin Filename: Asta de ciervo tallada Author: Ángel M. Felicísimo License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Link Additional Notes: Edited by Grigori Karpin Filename: Texture 87 Author: Ellen van Deelen License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Link Additional Notes: Edited by Grigori Karpin Filename: SCP-140(blue) Author: Grigori Karpin License: CC BY 3.0 Source Link: LINK Additional Notes: Edited by Grigori Karpin made by using “Book Cover of The Language of Flowers” image in combination with an image I took. Filename: Book Cover of The Language of Flowers Author: Rawpixel Ltd License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: LINK Additional Notes: Edited by Grigori Karpin |
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padding: 2vw; } close Info X SCP-8141: "The Sand Witches" Nothing stays buried forever. More by this author! PROTOCOL GYRUS under purview of the EMERGENT THREAT TACTICAL RESPONSE AUTHORITY Your access to this file is dependent on Protocol GYRUS security clearance. Contravening Protocol GYRUS carries a penalty of immediate termination for all involved parties. This file is undergoing review and revision. Addenda are presented in the order in which they were originally uploaded, without additional context. Be warned: information herein may therefore be misleading to personnel who have not consulted the file in its entirety. — Dr. Daniil Sokolsky, Deputy Director, ETTRA Item#: SCP-8141 Level5 Secondary Class: Hariti Disruption Class: keneq Risk Class: danger link to memo SCP-8141, Site-43 Interdiction Zone. Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8141 is a member of SCP Foundation personnel in good standing, with Security Clearance Level 3 credentials. She is permitted access to this file..Hariti-class anomalies are Foundation personnel whose anomalous characteristics require no containment measures not already satisfied by their duties and posting. Description: SCP-8141 is Dr. Udo Amara Okorie, Class-3 ("Magus") Type Blue and Chief of Applied Occultism (temporarily suspended) at Site-43. Her primary Talent is the remote manipulation of particulate matter at any scale, a field of thaumaturgy known as 'micamancy'..Though multiple disciplines can be mastered after thorough training, Type Blue individuals typically experience heightened facility with one thaumaturgical ability in particular, known as their Talent. Until recently, she was the only known or suspected practitioner of this Talent. She is also one of the seven members of Provisional Task Force Sampi-5243, responsible for enacting the Special Containment Procedures of a recurrent containment breach at Site-43 which creates tangent realities when improperly contained. This makes her one of a small number of personnel deemed essential to Protocol GYRUS: a multifaceted, cross-organizational effort to prevent the systemic breakdown of baseline reality as a direct result of SCP-001..Awaiting declassification. SCP-8141 Assessment (2023) — Delfina M. Ibanez Chief, Pursuit and Suppression Section, Site-43 I am in a romantic relationship with the subject of this report. There is no conflict of interest. Udo Okorie joined the Site-43 personnel pool as a Rank-2 security vulnerability. (The threat ranking scale doesn't go down to zero; even a corpse is Rank-1.) Rank-2 is as low as a thaumaturge can be rated, denoting containable powers and proven loyalty to the Foundation. In 2001 then-Junior Researcher Okorie could, with some effort, blind you with sand or sand off your skin or put sand in places normally only an unexpected undertow can reach, and as she was raised at Site-91 by a pair of loving Foundation senior researchers her integrity was considered unimpeachable. She was nevertheless upgraded to Rank-3 in 2002, when she acquired a special kind of sand she calls vim harenae allowing for much more granular (forgive the pun) and efficient applications. With this new reagent (sourced from a long-decommissioned SCP object) she could craft additional brain cells to extend her cognitive capacity, remotely operate or even recreate complex machinery, and assemble doppelgangers with full sensory and neural capability of their own. When data from a now-resolved tangent timeline showed her capable of constructing and operating silicon macrocomputers, and data from another displayed her ability to alter the thought patterns of an entire hive mind of anomalous arachnids, it became apparent that she was now the most powerful thaumaturge at Site-43. She was a Rank-4 threat by 2008, an assessment I have not since seen fit to adjust. Data now available to me regarding her actions during the Impasse suggests that there may be few functional limits on either her micamancy or her practice of more standard thaumaturgical techniques. With the revelation that she may be the product of anomalous parentage, a final upgrade may soon prove prudent. The arc of her career will then be complete; Rank-5 is as high as a thaumaturge's threat assessment can go. Anything beyond that, we call an SCP object. Addendum 8141-1, SCP Classification: Until the events of the Impasse in 2021, Dr. Okorie believed herself to be a baseline human being with no esoteric qualities unrelated to her thaumaturgical training or special containment duties. In 2022, during the LK-Class "Twist of Fate" scenario, Dr. Okorie took advantage of a general amnesty offered to all personnel with undeclared anomalous conditions; her intake interview is excerpted below. Interview Log Officer of Record: Dr. D. Sokolsky (Deputy Director, ETTRA) Subject: Dr. U. Okorie (Chair, Applied Occultism Section, Site-43) <Excerpt begins.> <Dr. Sokolsky is sitting behind his desk in Acroamatic Abatement Facility AAF-A, Site-43's only topside facility. Sunlight streams in from the uncurtained window behind him. Dr. Okorie sits in a chair on the other side of the desk, hands folded in her lap. She is fidgeting.> Dr. Sokolsky: Don't tell me, let me guess. You're magic. Dr. Okorie: This is additional to that. Dr. Sokolsky: Excited to hear it. <Dr. Okorie looks to the side, then back again.> Dr. Okorie: I'm not human. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Sokolsky: And? Dr. Okorie: I mean… there is more, but I thought you'd want to react to the first bit first. Dr. Sokolsky: I'm saving my reactions for the end. Dr. Okorie: All right. So, I'm not human. Or, I guess I'm half-human? Dr. Sokolsky: You're a hybrid. <Dr. Okorie wrinkles her nose.> Dr. Okorie: Now it sounds weird. I guess it is weird. Yes. I'm a half-human hybrid. Dr. Sokolsky: What's the other half? Dr. Okorie: I don't know, but at some point it frequented the Athenaeum of Severed Tongues in Alagadda. Dr. Sokolsky: Oh. Something bad, probably, then. Dr. Okorie: Maybe. Dr. Sokolsky: And that's additional to your thaumaturgy because? Dr. Okorie: It's likely connected to my Talent. Dr. Sokolsky: Sand magic. Dr. Okorie: Yeah. I'm thinking it's sandy there. Wherever they're from. I've… had dreams. Dr. Sokolsky: Dreams are boring. What kind of dreams? Dr. Okorie: Not boring dreams. Frightening dreams. Dreams of a desert, and a city, and a storm on the horizon. And I think… I think I've seen her, once or twice. In the dreams. Dr. Sokolsky: Your… mother? Dr. Okorie: My genetic mother. My father met her in Alagadda, and she delivered me to my parents nine months later. Dr. Sokolsky. Dr. Sokolsky: Sounds like you might be a little more than half human, given that interval. What anomalous features can you definitively tie to this origin? Dr. Okorie: First off, these. <Dr. Okorie removes her glasses and points to her eyes. The irises are bright orange save for the pupils, and emit a faint ambient glow.> Dr. Okorie: Then there's faster hair growth, higher than average heat shedding via the skin without affecting my internal temperature, and possibly slower aging — though obviously that's hard to gauge, now..Dr. Okorie's physical health is augmented by advanced Foundation medical care due to her duties re: SCP-5243. Dr. Sokolsky: Most of these things were handwaved because you're the child of two Foundation thaumaturges, right? Bit of magic mixed in the womb, sort of thing. It happens. Dr. Okorie: Yeah. Dr. Sokolsky: I guess it's one Foundation thaumaturge, now. Dr. Okorie: No. <Dr. Sokolsky scratches his chin.> Dr. Sokolsky: Why did you decide to come forward? You could presumably have kept all this hidden indefinitely. Dr. Okorie: Because I want to research it, and I want full access to our resources for that purpose. Dr. Sokolsky: Mmm. That does make sense. First of all, though, what's your security clearance level again? Dr. Okorie: Four. Dr. Sokolsky: I can tell you right now, they're going to provisionally bump you back down to three for keeping this secret for so long. It's an amnesty, not a free pass. Dr. Okorie: That's what an amnesty is, actually, but okay. Dr. Sokolsky: You'll probably be on temporary hiatus as Chair of AO, too, so that might give you time for a little sabbatical. Hmm hmm hmm. Okay, here's what I'm thinking. You need a lot of access to pursue this one, presumably, or you'd have already done it over the last couple years. Dr. Okorie: Yeah. Dr. Sokolsky: I'm the Deputy Director of the Emergent Threat Tactical Response Authority. Dr. Okorie: That you are. <Silence on recording.> <Dr. Okorie speaks very slowly and deliberately.> Dr. Okorie: I have reason to believe there might be an undiscovered race of individuals with extremely dangerous thaumaturgical capability and no known moral or political alignment who have interacted with Foundation personnel in the past, and may do so again. Dr. Sokolsky: Sounds like an emergent threat to me. I'll start the paperwork. <Excerpt ends.> As expected, Overwatch Command provisionally revoked Dr. Okorie's Level-4 credentials on receipt of Dr. Sokolsky's report, and she was temporarily replaced as Chief of Applied Occultism by former colleague Dr. Stacey Laiken. Dr. Okorie was classified SCP-8141, and her biological mother was classified PoI-8141-1. With permission from Site-43 Director Allan McInnis, Dr. Okorie undertook a self-directed research project in tandem with the Archives and Revision Section of Site-43 to determine the origins of her birth mother; simultaneously, she began submitting consultation requests to the Wanderers' Library. Due to the fractious relationship between the Foundation and the Serpent's Hand, however, the latter element of her research was slow to bear fruit. Addendum 8141-2, Field Emanations: On 19 September 2023, Dr. Rozálie Astrauskas submitted a report to Dr. Sokolsky on the subject of Dr. Okorie's personal field emanations, more commonly known as her 'aura'. Dr. Astrauskas is a Class-2 ("Adept") Type Blue specializing in auramancy..Dr. Astrauskas is a Class-2 ("Adept") Type Blue specializing in auramancy. The only practitioner of this Talent in Foundation employ, her work is therefore only tentative and non-falsifiable; as it was nevertheless responsible for discovering the wholesale replacement of an SCP Foundation facility by malicious doppelgangers in early 2023, however, her assessments carry a high degree of institutional confidence. Auramantic Assessment: Dr. Udo Amara Okorie Prepared by Dr. Rozálie Astrauskas, Site-43 Conflict of Interest Statement: The subject of this assessment is one of two individuals with which I am personally romantically involved. It is my belief that long association with the subject enhances my capacity to judge variations in her auran aspects, outweighing the danger of any potential bias in the results. Attached below is a telesomnic impression of my aurascopic reading of Dr. Udo Okorie on 19 September 2023, alongside my diagrammatic interpretation of the elements visible therein and their approximate configurations. Telesomnic representation of subject's field emissions (left) and expert interpretation (right). Element Key Baseline Elements: Vigour Band (blue) Emotion Band (red) Psychic Band (yellow) Hume Spirals (green) Esoteric Inclusions: Thaumic Channels (violet) Thaumic Radii (orange) Novel Inclusions: Unidentified Corona (indigo) Non-Transmissible Inclusions: Identity Gradient (absent) Intent Bloom (absent) Dr. Okorie's band reading indicates that she is in excellent physical health, emotionally agitated, and psychologically active. Her Hume Spirals are one half-point elevated from the norm; individuals originating from parallel realities exude spirals with whole point elevations or declinations. The meaning of this partial elevation is unclear, as I have only recently acquired the ability to perceive Hume Spirals after progressive memetic reinforcement. Esoteric inclusions indicate deviations from the human norm, typically thaumatological in origin. In this case Dr. Okorie's Thaumic Channels (the points at which her body's thaumic field is most extruded, in this case her hands) and Thaumic Radii (a specific manifestation relating to Dr. Okorie's micamancy; inclusions differ depending on each thaumaturge's native Talent) can be seen. Dr. Okorie's Identity Gradient, the colour-shifting signature unique to her person, cannot be transmitted through telesomnia due to its exclusive use of non-real colours. Her Intent Bloom, indicating a subject's candor and/or disposition, cannot be seen because her eyes are closed at my request; Dr. Okorie's Intent Bloom is particularly strong, and would have distorted the final element to the point of invisibility. That element, the corona radiating from the centre of her skull, is one for which I have no explanation. I have never seen anything remotely resembling this; were it not for her Thaumic Radii, I would have assumed it related to her Talent. I have not previously noted this inclusion in earlier readings, indicating either a) it is a recent development, or b) my own recent fortification has enabled me to discern a new auran element. Having conducted followup readings across the entire personnel pool of Site-43, I have detected no analogue to Dr. Okorie's corona. It neither waxes, wanes, nor shifts colour grade as the other elements invariably do. I am presently at a loss as to what it might represent. Addendum 8141-3, Consultation Preparations: On 29 September 2023, Dr. Okorie's contacts with the Wanderers' Library informed her that the Eighth Archivist had agreed to issue a probationary Library Card in her name, allowing her to enter and consult on the matter of her parentage. Her supervisor for this visit was to be the Eighth Archivist itself. No Foundation-aligned escort was to be permitted within the bounds of the Library, placing Dr. Okorie beyond communication or intervention range by other Foundation operatives. In order to secure Overwatch Command approval for her proposed investigation, Dr. Okorie solicited and received permission for the first implementation of the Okorie-Maslov Neural Implant, or OMNI. OMNI. Dr. Okorie's experiments with micamancy have involved the reproduction of complex systems, both mechanical and biological, beginning as early as 2002. In particular she has developed an understanding of the human brain approaching that of the most skilled Foundation neuroscientists; she has also engaged in macro-scale computer programming projects utilizing her mastery over silicon in all forms. A logical outgrowth of this was her consultation with various related Foundation projects, contributing great strides to our understanding of neuroscience and enabling significant advances in intercranial surgery. The final result of this process was the development of the OMNI: a silicon construct attached to the human posterior cingulate cortex (PCC) capable of digitizing audiovisual data collected by the subject's senses and harnessing the excess energy absorbed by this portion of the brain to transmit that data electronically. In simpler terms, the OMNI can record a subject's experiences and 'stream' them to a distant data centre for reconstruction. Due to the unpredictability of the PCC, however — which remains among the least well-understood elements of the human brain — a significant and variable temporal lag is experienced with these transmissions. This lag can range from hours to days, depending on factors which have not yet been determined. Dr. Okorie is the only subject ever to have been outfitted with an OMNI, as she was able to make the requisite modifications herself without recourse to craniotomy — inserting granular reagents into the ear canal, guiding them to their final positions, and temporarily fusing them to the PCC in a controlled laboratory environment to minimize the possibility of harm. Unless otherwise noted, transcripts and images relating to Dr. Okorie's investigations in the remainder of this file will have been sourced from OMNI transmissions. Addendum 8141-4, Research Consultation: On 1 October 2023, Dr. Okorie travelled to the village of Kayaköy in Turkey, her designated access point, under armed guard by Chief Ibanez and MTF Epsilon-43 ("Day Trippers"). By agreement with the Eighth Archivist, this escort returned to Site-43 while Dr. Okorie activated the Way within the Library of Kayaköy and entered the Wanderers' Library alone.."Ways" are static thaumaturgical gates, requiring a specific action ("Knock") to activate them. With the OMNI in place and transmitting to all available Deepwell systems in roaming mode, presenting a distorted somatic record of all visual and sonic data she experienced, Dr. Okorie began the first leg of her journey. <Transmission begins.> <OMNI records the landscape of the Wanderers' Library with mild distortion, serious artifacting and bloom/saturation errors, presumably as a result of the charged thaumaturgic environment within. Dr. Okorie is met by a pair of docents at the Way's egress point, and led through a heavily wooded series of stacks laden with iridescent off-yellow moss and ambulatory veins of ivy, to the Grand Hall.> <The Eighth Archivist is waiting for her in this large foregathering space, which is otherwise occupied by patrons with a wide variety of multiversal origins engaged in research and socialization. The Archivist itself is a tremendous red and brown armoured millipede with luminescent green eyes and a many-toothed maw. It speaks with a petulant hiss, and moves about with nervous rapidity.> The Eighth Archivist of the Wanderers' Library, somatic imagery. Eighth Archivist: Jailor. Dr. Okorie: You don't have a more polite term of address? For friends? <The Archivist appears to consider.> Eighth Archivist: Policewoman? Dr. Okorie: …jailor will be fine. You look different from when we last met. Eighth Archivist: Yes, I vary. Sometimes quite a bit. Still, nobody ever fails to recognize me. Dr. Okorie: You do have a very memorable face. Eighth Archivist: Thank you! I remember yours as well. It was a different shade from the others you were with. <Silence on recording. The docents exchange blank glances, and leave.> Eighth Archivist: I've said something wrong. Dr. Okorie: No, it's fine. Eighth Archivist: I've definitely said something wrong. Drat. Drat! Your complexion no doubt signifies a higher social standing, as it did with your mother. My apologies for muddling the nuance. Dr. Okorie: My… how do you…? Eighth Archivist: It's such a little detail, I never noticed it until just now. When you were here before, I didn't get a close look, and those lenses of yours diffuse the effect. Your eyes are so tiny! So impractically tiny! Mine are big as windows, and they glow — just like yours. Just like hers. <The Archivist's eyes glow bright, pulsating green.> Dr. Okorie: What can you tell me about… whoever you're describing? Eighth Archivist: What can you tell me about you? I'm in the business of preserving knowledge, you know, and it wasn't a popular decision to let you in here. <Multiple Wanderers and Serpent's Hand agents are regarding Dr. Okorie with distaste and/or distrust. One, a large cephalopod, is gradually changing hue from teal to orange and vibrating intensely.> Eighth Archivist: So, I'll need a little this-for-that. Dr. Okorie: Tit-for-tat. Eighth Archivist: What? Dr. Okorie: That's the expression. Tit for tat. Eighth Archivist: What could that possibly mean? No, don't answer. That's not what I want to know. Dr. Okorie: Then what? Eighth Archivist: Your magic. I want to know the nature of your magic. Dr. Okorie: I'm surprised you don't already. Eighth Archivist: We don't keep tabs on that sort of thing, not unless it's in the pages of our books. The Hand might know; probably, probably the Hand know. I could call them in and ask, if it's all so very much trouble for you to just come out and say it. Would you like me to do that? Dr. Okorie: No, thank you. I don't think they like me very much, I've… given them reason not to. So… yes. I control grains. <The Archivist chitters in obvious excitement, clicking its mandibles together rhythmically.> Eighth Archivist: Oh, that's wonderful. You can set yourself up as a harvest goddess in some backwoods reality when you're ready to retire. I shall procure for you a volume of the Voyages of Lady Fuchs and you may pick out a likely one, if you want. Tell me, what creates crop marks? I've heard it might be aliens. Please tell me it is. <Silence on recording.> Eighth Archivist: Eh? Did I say something wrong again? Dr. Okorie: No. I just, not… I didn't mean grains in the agricultural sense. I mean grains as in sand. I'm a micamancer. Eighth Archivist: Oh. Granular or loosely-speaking? Dr. Okorie: Both. I can divine using granules, and I can also form complex structures with them. Eighth Archivist: I like that you knew what I meant. A rare intellect — and with how rare a talent! Not unique, but certainly rare. I was so hoping you could explain crop marks, though. Dr. Okorie: Crop circles are caused by aliens; that's from our classified database, so consider it my part of our this-for-that. Now, you say I'm not unique— <A ripple of impatience moves through the trunk of the Archivist's body.> Eighth Archivist: I asked you about crop marks, Udo the micamancer. Not crop circles. I know aliens create crop circles. I'm not an idiot. Dr. Okorie: Oh, so you mean… parch marks? Dark or light lines in a field? Sometimes underlying geology, sometimes underlying archaeology, always something near the soil surface blocking the roots so that the plants draw less moisture, and dry out faster in a drought. <The Archivist's eyes pulsate, as though in approximation of a slow blink.> Dr. Okorie: Yeah. One of my girlfriends is into landscape archaeology. Did that answer your question? Eighth Archivist: Yessssss, though I wish you'd at least made up an interesting lie, because the truth was dreadfully dull. Does this answer your question: I have seen a few dust bunnies in my time, and their eyes burned a little like yours. Not very, but a little. Only one true match, if you'll forgive me the musty pun. Dr. Okorie: Who was she? Eighth Archivist: She claimed to be the sorceress-queen of the City of Aph. We get claims like that a lot, and we're normally not too bothered to pry, because we can always take it off their Library Cards if a rival claimant appears. In this case, none ever did, and they had quite some time to do so. Dr. Okorie: How long? Eighth Archivist: Centuries. So not too very long, but not quite a flash of the eyes. Dr. Okorie: Blink. Eighth Archivist: I can't. I've tried. Dr. Okorie: I… never mind. Where is the City of Aph? Eighth Archivist: Here and there. There's something funny about it. Dr. Okorie: Funny how? Eighth Archivist: You know how Ways work, obviously. One Way from one place to one other place. You only need a new Way when you need a new destination. Well, that hasn't been so with the City of Aph for ages and change. In the far reaches of the Library, there is a hall. We didn't put it there, and that's never a very good thing. It's called the Hall of the Hours — the people who put it there told us so — and there are many doors within it. Dr. Okorie: Magically many? Eighth Archivist: No, like five or six or something. I forget. But they are magical, because they are Ways. Ways between Aph and the Library. And only the newest one ever works. Dr. Okorie: Where do the others go? Eighth Archivist: Oblivion. Dr. Okorie: Really? Eighth Archivist: I don't know, it sounded appropriately dramatic. The difference between that and reality, though, is not spacious. Nobody who takes the old doors ever comes back, so nobody sensible takes the old doors. Not that anybody sensible takes the new door either, because it only goes to Aph and nobody sensible wants to go there either. Not anymore. I feel bad for it. Dr. Okorie: The city? You make it sound like it's alive. Eighth Archivist: It was, once. All true cities are alive. Did you not just come from one? Every genius loci longs to be recognized now and again. Masonic time is shorter than geological time, but compared with the fleeting interval that is life… <The Archivist chitters sadly, and shakes its giant head.> Dr. Okorie: So what you're saying is… nobody's there. Eighth Archivist: I'm not saying that, precisely. Probably somebody is there. Minding the store. Making sure everything is ready for the return. Dr. Okorie: What return? Eighth Archivist: Every once in a while they all come back to Aph, the people of the sand with their variably fiery eyes. And when the last of them has gone through that door, it never opens again, and they all come back out of a new one in dribs and drabs. Very peculiar. They've declined to answer whenever I've asked about it, with frequently problematic vehemence. Dr. Okorie: Meaning? Eighth Archivist: Meaning one of them cursed me, to prevent my passing on certain salient details of their home's nature and location. Not the little things, just the big ones. Very frustrating for an archivist, not to be able to properly tattle a tale. <Silence on recording.> Eighth Archivist: Did you come from Aph? Dr. Okorie: No. I don't know. Eighth Archivist: Are you going there? Dr. Okorie: I don't… I'm not sure. Eighth Archivist: I don't think you should. Are you immortal? <Dr. Okorie shrugs.> Dr. Okorie: So far. Eighth Archivist: Where were you born? Dr. Okorie: I don't know that either. Eighth Archivist: Where were you conceived, then? If the answer isn't too icky. Dr. Okorie: I'm not entirely certain, but… perhaps Alagadda. Eighth Archivist: Alagadda! There is no conception in Alagadda, though not for lack of trying. That population only declines, down and down and ever down into madness and decay. I told you not to tell me if it was icky! How can you come from such a place? That is no place to be from. Dr. Okorie: My father was a Foundation mage, like me. He met… the sorceress-queen, judging by your description, in the Athenaeum of Severed Tongues. <The Archivist recoils.> Eighth Archivist: We do not speak of that travesty, warden. Is the name not hint enough? Still, our relationship with your people might have been repaired earlier had we known you were sending agents to that dread place. We could've given you a list of 'borrowed' books we're wanting back. <The Archivist clicks its mandibles.> Eighth Archivist: But I was right, you say, about your mother. Well. You must be a true terror. Dr. Okorie: Why do you say that? Eighth Archivist: Because I saw her attacked once, in the Library, and I saw what happened to her attacker. Violence is forbidden in the stacks, but we had no need to intervene. It was quick, and it was fierce. I understood that poem about the tyger when I saw her hunched over her turnabout victim… what I saw made me think twice about the pleasant mustiness of some of our older tomes. I shouldn't ever like to be filled up with dust, myself. Talk of a dry cough. Dr. Okorie: Can you tell me anything more about her? Or her people? Or Aph? Eighth Archivist: I cannot. First, there is the curse; we're hard up on it now. Second, they aren't talkative people; their city has no library of its own, and I can think of no clearer indictment of a species than that. That's why they needed the Hall, of course. All libraries lead to the Library. But no, these people leave little trace of their passage across the worlds… save for lost souls like yourself. Dr. Okorie: I'm not lost. Eighth Archivist: Then what are you looking for, if not your home? Your family? Dr. Okorie: I have a shortlist of questions that need answers, and that's all. Can you show me the way to the Hall of the Hours? Eighth Archivist: I can. It isn't a lively place, but much more pleasant than where I sent you and your friends last time. How did that go, by the way? Your homecoming to Alagadda? Dr. Okorie: I died. Eighth Archivist: Oh. Well, you seem to have sorted that out, so no harm done. Dr. Okorie: Yeah. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: No harm. Eighth Archivist: Wait, didn't you say you'd been immortal so far? Dr. Okorie: I was only technically dead, and I didn't really experience it that way. It just sort of happened. Eighth Archivist: Yes, it always does. <The Eighth Archivist escorts Dr. Okorie to the Hall of the Hours, and indicates the appropriate portal through which she should pass. The space beyond the door is completely black. Dr. Okorie takes a deep breath. The faint scatter of sand is audible on the recording as she passes through.> <All exterior sound ceases. The blood pumping in Dr. Okorie's body can be heard very clearly, and a muffled scream.> <Very dull thumping is heard. The muffled scream becomes thicker, and ceases. Sounds of a rising and falling gorge.> <Thumping increases in intensity. A series of brief, explosive bursts of air can be heard. There are faint, red sparkles in the air. Gorge sounds resolve into a hacking cough, and violent, grating snorts. Dr. Okorie vomits, and screams in pain. Thumping increases further in intensity. A faint light is now visible.> <Dr. Okorie is standing in a space only slightly larger than her own physical form, now lit by excited particulate matter. She is surrounded entirely by sand.> <Transmission ends.> The refracted OMNI package was received by a variety of data centres approximately two hours later, and reconstituted into the whole presented above; no further transmissions have since been received. Addendum 8141-5, Return: Eight days after the receipt of her only transmission, Dr. Okorie appeared at the gates of Outpost-317 outside Quezon City, the Philippines. Once her security credentials were confirmed, she sent a coded message to Site-43 making two very urgent requests. The first was for a Pursuit and Suppression team be sent to Area-71 in the Mexican state of Hidalgo, on a credible threat of geistschreiber insurgency..Geistschreiber are cryptomancers capable of assuming the physical forms of others, aligned with the giftschreiber cult which has been waging a memetic war against the Foundation since the 1960s. The second was for MTF Epsilon-43 to retrieve her from Outpost-317. Chief Ibanez and Dr. Astrauskas, respectively Site-43's most experienced combatant and its sole means of detecting cryptomantic impersonation, immediately set out to rendezvous with MTF Nu-7 ("Hammer Down") and proceed to Mexico. Dr. Okorie was collected from Outpost-317 by helicopter, and arrived at Site-43 midmorning on 10 October. Her debriefing was carried out immediately; a transcript is appended below. Debriefing: SCP-8141 Subject: Dr. Udo A. Okorie (Senior Researcher, Applied Occultism Section, Site-43) Officer of Record: Dr. Harold R. Blank (Chair, Archives and Revision Section, Site-43) <Transcript begins.> <Dr. Okorie and Dr. Blank are sitting at a table in an otherwise empty chamber, a recording device between them. She appears to be full of nervous energy. He is yawning, and writing in the margins of a file.> Dr. Blank's file photo. Dr. Blank: Welcome back. Dr. Okorie: Thanks. Long night? Dr. Blank: Early morning. Productive trip? <Dr. Okorie looks away.> Dr. Okorie: No. Dr. Blank: I get the feeling you don't want to talk about it. <Dr. Okorie shrugs, then looks at Dr. Blank again.> Dr. Okorie: Close. There's just nothing to talk about. I found a portal to my mother's city, and there was nothing on the other side. Dr. Blank: Nothing? You were gone for over a week. Dr. Okorie: I don't remember anything. I remember… Dr. Blank: Nothing. Dr. Okorie: Yeah. Must have been some sort of, I don't know. Temporal dilation? Because the last, I don't know how many days? All, uh, blank. Found myself in the Philippines, and keyed my emergency transponder. You know the rest. Dr. Blank: So, what happened to the city? Was it destroyed? Dr. Okorie: Maybe. Probably. It's like it never existed. Dr. Blank: You sound pretty defeated. <Dr. Okorie sighs.> Dr. Okorie: I just really wanted to meet her. Dr. Blank: Understandable. Ah, you told us about an attack on— <Dr. Okorie seems suddenly very agitated.> Dr. Okorie: Area-71, yeah. Are they okay? Del and Roz? Dr. Blank: There's definitely something going on there; lockdown in place, no transmissions in or out. Del and Dr. Astrauskas are on-site, working with Hammer Down. Last we heard, they were preparing to force entry. Dr. Okorie: That's good. Dr. Blank: How did you know there was something going on there? Dr. Okorie: I… don't know. Dr. Blank: You don't know how you knew. Dr. Okorie: It was in my head when I… <Dr. Okorie gasps. Dr. Blank raises a hand.> Dr. Blank: Don't worry, we considered it. Dr. Okorie: That someone might have put those thoughts in my mind. Dr. Blank: Yeah. This isn't our first memetic rodeo. Calm down. The experts are on the case, and there's nothing you can do to help them right now. Not unless you can remember anything else. Dr. Okorie: I could take some mnestics. Dr. Blank: You're allergic to mnestics. Dr. Okorie: I could still take some. Dr. Blank: Right now it's probably best if you got some rest. You can talk with Nhung when your head is a little more clear..Dr. Nhung Ngo, Chair of Psychology and Parapsychology at Site-43. Maybe it'll all start coming back to you. Dr. Okorie: I'm not going to be able to sleep. Gonna go over my files instead. See what I missed, if anything. Maybe it'll jog my memory. Dr. Blank: Makes sense. Anything else to declare before I wrap this up? <Dr. Okorie shakes her head, and stands. Dr. Blank closes the file.> Dr. Blank: Don't let it get you down. The brain is a flexible thing, it'll bounce back. Or Del and Rozálie will find something. Or another lead will turn up. I'm sure of it. Dr. Okorie: I'm not. Even if they get things settled at Area-71, this feels… final. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: Harry? Dr. Blank: Yeah? Dr. Okorie: Why don't I remember what happened? Dr. Blank: Could be a problem with the thing. <Dr. Blank taps his head. Dr. Okorie winces.> Dr. Blank: We'll have someone from H&P check you out tonight. Dr. Okorie: Sure. I'm gonna… go for a walk. My legs are cramped something fierce. <Transcript ends.> As she had indicated, after a brief patrol of the Site, Dr. Okorie resumed her research in her personal quarters..Though until recently Dr. Okorie occupied the complex assigned to the Chief of Applied Occultism, her original dormitory room has never been reassigned due to its frequent use as an unofficial meeting space for PTF Sampi-5243. At approximately 3:17 AM on 11 October, the automated security system in said quarters sent out an emergency medical alert. Health and Pathology Section personnel found Dr. Okorie lying prone on the floor of her kitchenette, non-responsive but alive. She was placed in critical care for a period of one hour, at the end of which she awoke, unable to account for her sudden indisposal. Examination by Chief Medical Officer Dr. Helena Forsythe determined that the OMNI in Dr. Okorie's brain had degraded to trace granules. Addendum 8141-6, Further Transmissions: As Dr. Okorie convalesced in Health and Pathology, scattered components of a second OMNI transmission were received at multiple Foundation facilities worldwide. When the data was combined, a full audiovisual record with only minor data corruption was reconstructed and sent to Site-43 for analysis. A transcript of this record is appended below. <Transmission begins.> <Dr. Okorie continues to hammer back the solid wall of sand via the application of brute micamancy. She is weeping, spitting, and cursing at intervals. After nearly a minute of this activity she finishes spitting, takes a deep, scratching breath, and appears to calm herself. The sand ahead of her parts like a veil, and she moves forward into the darkness, lighting it with excited particles as she goes.> <After several minutes of travel, Dr. Okorie sighs and alters course by approximately ninety degrees. She conducts a grid pattern search of the sand which dominates the next sixteen minutes and twelve seconds, before her breathing begins to increase in rapidity.> Dr. Okorie: Oh god. <Dr. Okorie clears the entire space ahead of her, then begins turning in place. She is panting heavily now. She appears to see something promising after turning almost one hundred and eighty degrees, and heads toward it.> <Dr. Okorie's breath becomes ragged.> <Dr. Okorie begins to wheeze. OMNI visuals become blurry.> <Dr. Okorie's breath ceases.> <There is a sudden washout of light, and Dr. Okorie audibly falls to the sand floor, sucking in desperate breaths. She closes her eyes.> <A woman's voice can be heard.> Voice: That was very impressive. <Dr. Okorie does not respond.> Voice: I'll give you a moment to catch your wind. <Dr. Okorie responds. Her voice is weak and gravelly.> Dr. Okorie: Who…? <She opens her eyes, and looks up into the face of a young woman with short, wild hair and a sparkling robe. The young woman's eyes are electric orange on the OMNI feed. She smiles.> PoI-8141-2, somatic imagery. Woman: I'm Sevara. You're lying on our doorstep. Dr. Okorie: Help… <Sevara kneels, and reaches out to touch Dr. Okorie's face. She examines the face critically for a moment.> Sevara: You're stronger than she expected. That's good. But what are these bags under your eyes? <Sevara shakes her head.> Sevara: You've been overdoing it. Burning from the inside out. <Sevara stands. Dr. Okorie's breathing is more regular now; she attempts to sit up.> Sevara: I think you could use a little rest. <Particulate matter occludes the OMNI feed.> Sevara: We'll talk more when you wake up. <Dr. Okorie makes a small, almost inaudible sound, possibly of protest.> Sevara: Relax. You're safe now. <Dr. Okorie's eyes close.> Sevara: You're home. <Transmission ends.> Addendum 8141-7, Further Debriefing: After her release from Health and Pathology, Dr. Okorie was instructed to attend Dir. McInnis in his office for further debriefing in light of the above. A transcript of their meeting is appended below. <Transcript begins.> <Dr. Okorie approaches Dir. McInnis, who is sitting behind his desk. She sits down, and smiles nervously at him. Dir. McInnis smiles warmly.> Dir. McInnis' file photo. Dir. McInnis: Good morning, doctor. <Dr. Okorie nods.> Dr. Okorie: Director. Dir. McInnis: You're feeling better? Dr. Okorie: A lot, yeah. Thanks. I think interdimensional travel disagrees with me. Dir. McInnis: Well, I won't take too much of your time. Your somatic transmissions have begun arriving, and there are certain… discrepancies I think we ought to address. <Dr. Okorie curses under her breath.> Dr. Okorie: Of course. Dir. McInnis: You told Dr. Blank that you found nothing on the other end of that portal. Dr. Okorie: With respect, sir, I told him that I didn't remember anything until Outpost-317. Dir. McInnis: Has that state of affairs changed? Dr. Okorie: Only a little. I have… flashes. Brief flashes. But I can't make sense of them yet. Dir. McInnis: What about your knowledge of Area-71? It's still locked up tighter than a drum, I'm afraid. Dr. Okorie: I don't know. Can you call Del and Roz back? I don't like… <Dr. Okorie shakes her head.> Dir. McInnis: Quite. They're both where they need to be, right now. Their expertise will be invaluable if your tip was correct, and if it isn't, they're more than capable of handling themselves. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: I found them. Dir. McInnis: I beg your— Dr. Okorie: I did find them. My people. That's what happened. I can almost picture it now. Dir. McInnis: I have already seen the pictures, in extremely vivid colour. The delay is considerable. Dr. Okorie: Probably something to do with… wherever I went. Some field around it, maybe. Dir. McInnis: Perhaps. Given we've just received what amounts to a missive from over a week ago, I suspect we'll know more soon. <Dr. Okorie nods.> Dir. McInnis: It would certainly appear that you did find someone, or rather that someone found you. I wonder if you remember anything that wasn't in the transmission? Dr. Okorie: I don't… <Dr. Okorie sighs in frustration.> Dr. Okorie: It's obvious what happened here, right? I found them, I saw something I wasn't meant to, I escaped, they put their fingers in my grey matter on the way out. I already had my fingers in there, after all. Why couldn't they have done the same? Dir. McInnis: A good working theory. Dr. Okorie: Could you show me the transmission, sir? Dir. McInnis: Of course. There may be others inbound. I've heard reports that a few rogue packets have been picked up by our covert comms satellites. Dr. Okorie: I hate the idea that we're only going to see what happened in dribs and drabs. Dir. McInnis: A frustratingly slow way to proceed, but the only one we have, I'm afraid. Dr. Okorie: Not half as afraid as I am. Sir. <Transcript ends.> Addendum 8141-8, Further Transmissions (2): As Dir. McInnis and Dr. Okorie reviewed the first transmissions, further packets were received by Deepwells across the globe and a newer, much longer transmission was assembled and sent to Site-43 for analysis. A full transcript is appended below. <Transmission begins.> <Dr. Okorie's eyes open. She is lying down, staring up at a cracked sandstone ceiling. She rapidly rights herself, coughs, and examines her surroundings. She is sitting in what appears to be an ancient ruin under an open ceiling with a distant, sandy roof. The walls are covered with nearly-effaced carvings which cannot be discerned in any great detail. The room is oblong, with a series of passageways leading in all cardinal directions. The young woman, Sevara, is leaning in one of the doorways. Her arms are crossed.> PoI-8141-2, somatic imagery. <Dr. Okorie attempts to speak, but manages only a dry whisper. She clears her throat, and tries again.> Dr. Okorie: Where is she? Sevara: Hello to you too. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: Hello. <Sevara approaches, looking down at Dr. Okorie with a critical expression on her face.> Sevara: You don't look like the best thing since sliced bread. Dr. Okorie: What? Who are you? Sevara: I'm Sevara. Don't remember? I guess you weren't at your best. I mean, I hope that wasn't your best. <Sevara extends a hand. Dr. Okorie takes it gingerly.> Sevara: Nice to meet you. Heard so much about you. Really was starting to get sick of it. <Silence on recording. Sevara takes back her hand.> Sevara: Having trouble articulating the questions, huh. Sand in your throat, maybe? I'll start. <Sevara leans on the wall.> Sevara: Yes, you found us. Well done. Yes, I know who you are. Yes, she's the one you're looking for. Dr. Okorie: Where is she? Sevara: Doing more important things, until I tell her you're awake. Should I go do that? Dr. Okorie: What can you tell me about her? Sevara: Wow. Very direct. Okay. I can tell you she's your mother. <Silence on recording.> Sevara: Interesting reaction. We'll put a pin in that. I can also tell you she's the Vitreous Queen of Aph, but you probably already got that from the Librarians. Dr. Okorie: They called her the sorceress-queen, actually. Sevara: Same difference. What's in a name, am I right? Dr. Okorie: You know about the Library? Sevara: I know all kinds of stuff. Don't know why I'd want to tell you about most of it, though. Dr. Okorie: So you're, what, her bodyguard? Jailkeeper? Door… woman? Sevara: Bit thick, aren't you? And she was so excited for you to show up. Going to suck when she finds out you're no better than the rest of us slobs. <Transmission blurs, as though Dr. Okorie is shaking her head.> Dr. Okorie: I sucked down a lot of sand back there. Head's still a mess. What the fuck was that, anyway? Sevara: That? That was a trap. Isn't it obvious? Dr. Okorie: A trap for who? Sevara: Whoever. Only three kinds of people are showing up here, you know? People who know how to get in safely, people who don't, and we want them to suffocate, and people who are you, with something to prove. And congrats! <Sevara claps her hands.> Sevara: You proved it. By not dying. Mother will be so proud. <Dr. Okorie stands, shakily. She looks down sharply to find her reagents pouch, opens it, and confirms that the contents are still present. She looks back up at Sevara.> Dr. Okorie: You said… I think you said you were going to go get her? Or take me to see her? Sevara: I didn't say either of those things. But I'm game for the second one. Come on. <Sevara kicks off the wall, and heads for the archway. After watching for a moment, Dr. Okorie follows.> <They walk through a series of half-collapsed chambers, many of them decorated like the one in which Dr. Okorie awoke. Some of the carvings can be discerned; they are generally floral, and nondescript. No figures or lettering can be seen.> <They walk for nearly five minutes before arriving in a much larger chamber with a shattered dome roof and badly damaged far wall, with a raised and arched portal opening onto solid sand. Another young woman is standing in the portal, facing them. She is dressed in a reflective, hooded robe, and making a welcoming gesture.> PoI-8141-1, somatic imagery. Woman: You don't look a thing like your father. I'm surprised they took you in! He could have easily denied the connection. <Dr. Okorie steps forward.> Dr. Okorie: He took a paternity test the day they found me, according to my mother. <The woman laughs.> Woman: That must have been an awkward trip! Your mother must not have a lot of backbone. <Dr. Okorie's voice drops a half-octave.> Dr. Okorie: Explain that. <The woman shrugs.> Woman: If it had been me, I would have smothered him right there on the porch for daring to betray our bond. And I might have done the same to you. Dr. Okorie: You would kill a child? Woman: I can be very quick to anger, and very slow to reason when that happens. Worth remembering, Kelila. <Dr. Okorie is now raising her voice.> Dr. Okorie: That isn't my name. They reported me to Site-91 immediately after the results came in. I've been Udo Okorie in the records of the SCP Foundation my entire life, and you're not changing that. Woman: You were Kelila in the Book of True Names in the Wanderers' Library nine months before you were born, and so that's who you are in worlds beyond count. I put you there myself, just as I put you on this Earth after bringing you into being. Dr. Okorie: The entire fucking universe gets less say on the subject than I do. I'm me. And my name is Udo. <The woman laughs.> Woman: There she is! There's my daughter. <Dr. Okorie spits on the sand floor.> Dr. Okorie: Keep looking. <The woman affects a pout.> Woman: There's no reason to be like this. It isn't a confrontation. It's a reunion! Dr. Okorie: It's a fact-finding mission. I'm here so you can tell me who and what you are. Woman: Who and what we are, you mean. And if I tell you, then what? You tell them? They lock you up, and come after us. That sounds very tedious. I wouldn't let them live after putting my breath and sand in a cage. Dr. Okorie: Breath and sand? Woman: It was a mistake to leave you with them, but I had things to do, places to be, and you would have been a burden. You grew up without your birthright. That's my fault, and I apologize. Dr. Okorie: If you didn't want me, why did you have me? Woman: Does it make you feel unloved? <A sigh is audible behind Dr. Okorie. She does not react to it.> Dr. Okorie: It doesn't make me feel anything. But I do want to understand what kind of person you are. Woman: I have no kind. I stand alone. I am Aphora, Vitreous Queen of Aph. Dr. Okorie: And why did you…? Aphora: Because he was wearing a wedding ring. <Silence on recording.> Aphora: It made little difference, but by then even the slightest challenge was a novelty. <Silence on recording.> Aphora: He cried, you know, after. He knew he shouldn't have done it. But he wanted to. Dr. Okorie: Did you force him? <Aphora snorts.> Aphora: What kind of question is that? Of course not. I'm a queen, not some vagabond rapist. Your father was weak. He wasn't the first, or the last. <Another sigh is audible, this one more obviously frustrated.> Dr. Okorie: You like making people do what you want. Aphora: I'm sure I've already mentioned that I'm a queen. <Sevara walks into view. She passes Aphora; the pair share a nod. Sevara proceeds into the wall of sand in the large portal, without stopping. There is a faint distortion on the OMNI feed, and she continues straight through. The sand closes up behind her.> Dr. Okorie: You took advantage of my father, then dumped the results on his doorstep. <Aphora smiles warmly, and approaches Dr. Okorie.> Aphora: An altogether satisfying escapade. I only now regret it, and only in part. I can see it's placed a barrier between us. <Dr. Okorie takes a step back.> Dr. Okorie: We can talk through the barrier, and that's all I'm here for. What is Aph? <Aphora stops walking, and sighs.> Aphora: Aph is your birthright, though you shouldn't expect to receive it for a few thousand years. I've got plenty of life left in me, as you're about to see. <Dr. Okorie snorts.> Dr. Okorie: I hate to break it to you, but I'm not going to live for a few thousand years. Aphora: We'll see. But you were asking about the city, yes? Come with me. <Aphora turns to face the portal. She looks back at Dr. Okorie> Aphora: You're not going to learn anything in the waiting room, are you? Dr. Okorie: The city is buried. Aphora: And why not? Sand is no obstacle to one of us, and only one of us would be welcome here. <She laughs, and turns back to the portal.> Aphora: But I forget. You're weak and weary after that little trial we put you through. It behooves me as your host to ease the transition. <Aphora raises her hands.> <The sand on the ceiling and the sand in the portal recede, and continue to recede until they have passed into the far distance. A vast city of sand and sandstone is gradually revealed beyond the portal, with long, sinuous walls, raised causeways, countless large structures, and a tremendous black fortress-tower at the centre.> City of Aph, somatic imagery. <Aphora lowers her hands, and turns back to face Dr. Okorie. Her eyes are burning so brightly that the bloom obscures much of her face, but her wide smile is still clearly visible. The cavern remains unveiled behind her.> Aphora: Welcome, Kelila, my daughter, to the Shifting City of Aph. <Transmission ends.> Addendum 8141-9, Thaumatological Consult: After reviewing the existing transmissions with Dir. McInnis, Dr. Okorie's memories of her initial time in the City of Aph began to recover. As her initial remit from ETTRA was to determine the potential danger posed by an entire population of rogue micamancers, her first consultation was with her replacement as Chief of Applied Occultism, Dr. Stacey Laiken. A transcript of their meeting is appended below. <Transcript begins.> <Dr. Laiken is seated behind her desk. She stands as Dr. Okorie enters.> Dr. Laiken's file photo. Dr. Laiken: Udo! Dr. Okorie: Dr. Laiken. <Dr. Laiken smiles sadly.> Dr. Laiken: You don't need to be so formal. I haven't taken your job, I'm just keeping it warm for you. <Dr. Okorie waves the statement off.> Dr. Okorie: Stacey, then. Dr. Laiken: That's better. <Dr. Laiken sits down, and places both hands on the keyboard of her computer terminal.> Dr. Laiken: Now, the official part. You know what I'm going to ask you. Dr. Okorie: You want to know how their magic works. Dr. Laiken: Right. A full thaumaturgical breakdown. What can they do? What can't they do? What can you do now, that you couldn't do then, after watching them? That sort of thing. Dr. Okorie: Bearing in mind it's still a jumbled mess in my… mind. Dr. Laiken: Of course. <Dr. Okorie takes a deep breath. When she speaks, Dr. Laiken begins to type.> Dr. Okorie: They can do anything I can do, better. The best of them can set the sand moving, and stop thinking about it. Not interminably, but for a good long while. When I first got there, Aphora — my mother, the queen — pushed back the entire god damn cavern so I could see the city, and it stayed that way for hours as she led me to the gates, and down the streets. <Dr. Okorie begins pacing nervously in front of the desk.> Dr. Okorie: She's far and away the most powerful, but all of them can achieve workings like that to some extent. The more complex the enchantment, of course, the less time it can run on its own. Very simple things, like sand fires, those can last for weeks without being refreshed. They have glass blowing forges which tend themselves. Irrigation systems that look automatic to the untrained eye. I never even imagined the magic could work that way. Dr. Laiken: Well, be scientific about it. How do you think they manage this? <Dr. Okorie grunts, and stops pacing.> Dr. Okorie: I think they're just better attuned to it than I am. It's a part of their heritage. They've lived it all these years, while I've been… apart. Kept apart. Dr. Laiken: You sound resentful. Dr. Okorie: Wouldn't you be? If you'd been deprived of the chance to be your best self? Dr. Laiken: You know things about thaumaturgy they couldn't even begin to imagine. Unless you're going to tell me that they're expert mages too. Please don't tell me that. <Dr. Okorie shakes her head, and resumes pacing.> Dr. Okorie: No, that's true. Everything they do is related to the sand, the dust, the particles in general. But they're masters at it, Stacey. I saw a man crafting a mechanical golem that could run on its own, swing its fists, stomp its feet. Imagine an army that doesn't need to eat, sleep, even breathe, an army that's self repairing and grown out of something so common as dust. If they put their minds to it, I think they could use their powers to crush us in a matter of weeks. Dr. Laiken: And would they? Dr. Okorie: I think they might. <Dr. Laiken stops typing, and leans back.> Dr. Laiken: You seem beaten-down, Udo. I don't like the defeat in your voice. What was it like, being stuck down there? Dr. Okorie: I wasn't stuck down there. I didn't want to leave. <Dr. Laiken frowns.> Dr. Laiken: Do you mean… <Dr. Okorie quickly raises a hand.> Dr. Okorie: Not that I was considering defecting from the Foundation. No. Just that… It was nice to finally belong somewhere, you know? Somewhere everyone actually understood who I was, what I wanted, and judged me on my own merits instead of freaking out because my eyes glow orange and I make their vacuum cleaners obsolete. Dr. Laiken: You've always had a place here. Dr. Okorie: And I'm going to have to be consoled with that. Because I'll never be able to go back. Dr. Laiken: Why not? Dr. Okorie: Because it won't be there. Dr. Laiken: The city can move? Dr. Okorie: The city can move. The city has moved, many times. That's why they call it the Shifting City. That's why there were six doors in the Hall of the Hours. And you can see it in some of the older, more disused structures. Stress fractures that nobody's bothered to repair. Streets that respect geology that isn't there anymore. Foreign materials in the sand, in the concrete. Plant matter that isn't native. <Dr. Laiken resumes typing.> Dr. Laiken: Native? How do you know what's native to where the city is? I thought you didn't— Dr. Okorie: I saw the hydroponics. I'm no botanist, but I can tell that what they were growing grows well there, and it's nothing like some of the stuff creeping up the walls, or dead in the crumbling rock like rusted rebar. The city's been around. Dr. Laiken: Those doors in the Wanderers' Library would seem to attest to that fact. Is it possible the city can leave baseline reality? Dr. Okorie: It's more than possible. I believe it. If only because they believe it, and they told me, and they have no good reason to lie. Dr. Laiken: Well, I don't know about that. It sounds to me like they might have given you a bit of Stockholm Syndrome. Obviously they were trying to make you see things their way. Force you to stay. I'm not sure you can trust anything they told you. Dr. Okorie: It was in their power to force me to stay. But my mother… She wanted me to join her willingly. She didn't want to trick me. She wanted me to see the truth for myself. Dr. Laiken: And what is that truth? How do they move the city, Udo? Dr. Okorie: I… don't remember. Dr. Laiken: Well, it's early days. We're already learning so much! <Dr. Okorie stops pacing, and leans down over Dr. Laiken's desk.> Dr. Okorie: We're going to need to do a whole lot more than learn, Stacey. This is a problem that won't go away on its own. Dr. Laiken: I thought you just said that it would? Literally? Dr. Okorie: We can't let it get to that point. If it gets to that point, we've already lost. We're going to have to deal with Aph. Decisively. Before they rabbit. <Dr. Laiken smiles faintly.> Dr. Okorie: And I'm not going to be able to help. <Dr. Laiken frowns.> Dr. Laiken: Why not? Dr. Okorie: Because compared to these people, I'm nothing. Dr. Laiken: I find that hard to believe. Dr. Okorie: You didn't see her. Dr. Laiken: The queen? Dr. Okorie: My mother. Yes. <Dr. Okorie turns and walks away, facing the door.> Dr. Okorie: You should see the way they look at her. They worship her. If she put her mind to it, she could raise that city up into the sky for all the world to see. I don't think there's any limit on what she can do. She's invincible. Dr. Laiken: And how did she get that way? Is it age, experience, both? How old is she? <Dr. Okorie turns around, and slumps heavily against the door.> Dr. Okorie: At least a thousand years old, I think. She's been to so many places… This is a woman who made love, real love, in the heart of Alagadda. There's nothing she can't achieve. Dr. Laiken: That's the kind of thing we used to say about you. Dr. Okorie: Mm. Dr. Laiken: And some of us still do. <Dr. Okorie leans down. Her hair falls forward, obscuring her face. The orange glow of her eyes is still visible, though it is ebbing.> Dr. Okorie: To a person who's never seen art, finger painting is very impressive. Dr. Laiken: The contrast can't be that great. Dr. Okorie: In the middle of that city is an obelisk of black mica four hundred metres tall. Her palace. She built it with her eyes closed. Some nights, she raises the roof over the entire city, and turns the walls of her penthouse to glass. Just so she can look out on everything she owns. If she ever takes a notion to come out of that hole, she could reshape the entire Earth in her image. I have no doubt of that. Dr. Laiken: So, I guess we'll have to convince her not to do that. Since she sounds too powerful to stop. <Dr. Okorie looks up again.> Dr. Okorie: Oh, I don't know about that. The thing about magical thinking? It really gets in the way of science. And that's where we excel. <Transcript ends.> Addendum 8141-10, Further Transmissions (3): The next OMNI transmission arrived less than an hour after the last, though it was considerably more artifacted and required more significant RAISA intervention to decode. A transcript is appended below. <Transmission begins.> <Dr. Okorie is walking down a wide, raised thoroughfare. Buildings rise up from the distant cavern floor to tower over her on both sides, with the palace in the far distance. Aphora walks to the left, and slightly ahead.> <The road is cracked, and portions have fallen away into the darkness below. Various presumed citizens of Aph are engaged in repair work; some move their hands to direct and compact the sand, while others are barely paying attention, though their eyes flash in tune with the particulate sheets that weave across the path.> <Though the chromatic errors in the OMNI transmission are considerable, it seems likely that the citizens possess a variety of skin and hair tones suggestive of a cosmopolitan modern population. Many of them turn to watch Dr. Okorie and Aphora as they pass. The queen gestures to each, smiling, as she speaks.> Aphora: We are making it whole again, as you can see. Dr. Okorie: Sure. Aphora: You know why? Dr. Okorie: Nope. <Aphora glances disapprovingly at her.> Aphora: You're not a very good anthropologist. Dr. Okorie: Actually, I think polite disinterest is one of the better anthropological— <Aphora is suddenly hissing in rage, and stops walking. Her eyes flash brightly enough to momentarily disrupt the transmission. Several citizens watch with alarmed expressions.> Aphora: You're not going to speak to me that way. This is my demesne. It will swallow you up if you mock me again. <Dr. Okorie shrugs. Aphora glares at her a moment longer, then leans back. Her eyes dim to their natural ambience, and she sighs.> Aphora: You have questions of your own. You might as well ask them. <They resume their walk.> Dr. Okorie: What is this place? Aphora: Don't you know? You came from the Library. Dr. Okorie: I spoke with the Archivist. He knew where this place was, but he didn't know what it was. Aphora: This is the oldest city on Earth. And the greatest. <One of the structures ahead begins to topple over. Two citizens raise their hands, as though to shield themselves from the debris; the fall is arrested, and the citizens press the structure back into place without ever coming within a dozen metres of it.> Dr. Okorie: Doesn't look so great to me. <Aphora smiles ruefully.> Aphora: The skin has decayed, but the bones are strong. I thought you of all people would have learned to see beyond superficial qualities. Dr. Okorie: What do you know about me-of-all-people? Aphora: I know you are my daughter, Kelila. Dr. Okorie: My name is Udo Okorie. My parents' names are Anjali and Obi. <A smile tugs at Aphora's lips.> Aphora: How is Obi? Dr. Okorie: Dead. Not that you care. <Aphora shrugs.> Aphora: True. Dr. Okorie: So, tell me what's so great about this city. Aphora: It is the rock that broke the tide of the Daeva. The home of the sorcerers who shaped the world. You have seen it in your dreams. Everyone has, but for most it is only distant. Unreachable. This is the city at the heart of the human imagination. Dr. Okorie: Okay. Now explain it to me like I'm a scientist, not a child. Aphora: To me, you are but a child. What you call science, I call a shallow façade on squalling ignorance. You are the best of a debased breed. Dr. Okorie: By which you mean humanity. Aphora: Nothing the humans of this world have wrought will last as long as this city. What they call eternal in Rome, I call the blink of an eye. And the pontiff on his balcony might command a mighty flock, but his power to shape their hearts and minds is minimal and meaningless. My people, our people, have defined the very contours of reality. From here. From these stones, beneath these sands. <Aphora again raises her hands reverently to the cavern roof. It shudders, apparently in response. Trickles of sand tumble hundreds of feet down; the micamancers on the roadway catch them, weaving their grains into the repairing breeze.> Dr. Okorie: It's a good pitch. Somewhat undercut by, as you acknowledge, the fact that all of this is hiding beneath god knows how much sand. Aphora: I am that god. I know every inch of this place. I am the one who sunk it to its present depth. And it is with good reason that I do not allow my knowledge to become general. The powerful make powerful enemies. Dr. Okorie: How did you sink the city? Or raise the roof? Aphora: Why can't you, you mean? <Dr. Okorie sighs.> Dr. Okorie: I mean what I say. One of us has to be plain-spoken. How did you do it? Aphora: That's precisely how. Dr. Okorie: Meaning? Aphora: To you, it is a million tons of sand. To me, it is the roof. A single thing. Dr. Okorie: That's not how micamancy works. Aphora: Don't mistake your halting, inadequate gestures for the true expression of our art. I could spread your every atom to the farthest corners of the Earth with a single thought. I wouldn't even need to raise my hand, or my voice. You are a babe in the woods. Dr. Okorie: I'm surprised you have that metaphor. Aphora: I'm well-traveled. I'm sure the Archivist told you that, at least. Dr. Okorie: He did. And he also told me your people come here rarely. Seems to me there's a bunch of them here right now. Why? <Aphora stands taller.> Aphora: They're here at my command. To welcome you. Dr. Okorie: That's nice. What's the real reason? <Aphora's eyes narrow.> Aphora: I think I've had just about enough of your insolence. You're a guest in my city. You should act like it. Dr. Okorie: If you're my host, I think a real tour is in order. Show me the sights. The major landmarks. Aphora: That's not something I have time for right now. I'm preparing for the main event. Dr. Okorie: Which is? Aphora: You'll see. You'll be the guest of honour, in fact. Dr. Okorie: Why does that sound like a euphemism for sacrifice? <Aphora shakes her head.> Aphora: No, Kelila. I am done with sacrifice. Dr. Okorie: Doesn't seem to me like you ever even started. Aphora: Ah. Now we come to it. Dr. Okorie: Why do I exist, Aphora? Aphora: I didn't love your father. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: What? Aphora: You are not the product of a loving union. If it helps, he didn't love me either. Dr. Okorie: Of course he didn't. He only knew you for… however long it took. What a stupid… <Dr. Okorie laughs.> Dr. Okorie: Is that what you think I came here for? To find out if you and my dad experienced true love at first sight? Jesus Christ. You think I'm an imbecile. <Aphora shrugs, stiffly.> Aphora: I don't know what to think of you. I had expectations, but… Dr. Okorie: I'm sure we're both equally disappointed. Aphora: I didn't say I was disappointed. Only… surprised. Dr. Okorie: Great. Good to know. <Dr. Okorie raises her voice. A citizen engaged in re-crenellating the roof of a structure which leans precariously over top of the road bed starts in shock, then quickly regains her composure and returns to her task.> Dr. Okorie: Why do I exist? What was the purpose of procreating with a total stranger? <Aphora gestures to the figures swarming the path ahead of them.> Aphora: There's only a few hundred of us left, and most of those are kin. Strangers are the only option. Dr. Okorie: You're circling the question. Why have children at all? And why with my father? <Aphora glances at Dr. Okorie, a sly smile on her lips.> Aphora: And why not keep you? Dr. Okorie: Sure. Aphora: I could tell what your father was the moment I laid eyes on him. I could see the power within. That's why they sent him. In Black Alagadda, nobody gets in the way of a wizard. Of course, I wasn't afraid of him. But I was curious. Dr. Okorie: About? Aphora: What might come of such a union. My power and his, combined. The mixing of our blood. Our people are not many, Kelila, but they will survive. They must. And if we are to do that, we must continue to evolve. Dr. Okorie: So, I was a science project. Aphora: Yes. Dr. Okorie: You must have been unconcerned with the results. Aphora: Because I left you with him? Hardly. I know what people are like out there. You dote on your young. You spare no expense in their upbringing. You were safer with him than you would have been with me. Dr. Okorie: What were you doing that's so unsafe? <Aphora looks up at the cavern ceiling.> Aphora: I've walked in gardens of decaying uranium, and trod paths of lightning through empty air. I've slept in the boughs of iron trees ten thousand kilometres tall, and danced naked in the spined arcades of Alagadda. Your father had a nice little cottage in Yorkshire. <Dr. Okorie shakes her head.> Dr. Okorie: I don't think that's it. <Aphora turns her head again. Her eyes are gradually brightening, though her tone remains calm.> PoI-8141-1, somatic imagery. Aphora: Are you calling me a liar? Dr. Okorie: Maybe. There's definitely more to it than that. I think… <Dr. Okorie snaps her fingers. There is a brief burst of light. Aphora looks momentarily surprised.> Dr. Okorie: Of course. It wasn't enough to have your child with a thaumaturge. You wanted me trained as one, too. You knew that was the only logical outcome. Aphora: I also considered that they might put you in a box, actually. How did it go, by the way? When you told them what you really are? <Silence on recording.> Aphora: Don't make that face. I know you told them. There isn't an ounce of guile in you. Dr. Okorie: They weren't happy. But I'm still free. Aphora: You were still free. But now you're here. <They have reached a fork in the road. One path is covered in debris, but intact. The other has collapsed down into the abyss. Aphora stops, and Dr. Okorie stops as well. The workers have not made it this far yet. They are alone.> Aphora: You want to know why you exist? <Aphora taps her foot on the roadbed.> Aphora: This is why. You exist to find me here, today. Dr. Okorie: Why? Why now? Aphora: Because we are leaving, Kelila. Never to return. Dr. Okorie: Where are we going? Aphora: Where they can't touch us. For a time. Dr. Okorie: Who? Who can't touch us? Aphora: I think you know. Dr. Okorie: The giftschreiber? Aphora: Think bigger. <Silence on recording.> Aphora: Two hinges on the door to oblivion. An airless void between worlds. Blacker and emptier than the Nevermeant. Dr. Okorie: That's where we're going? I think I'll pass. I've been in voidspace before. It's nothing to write home about. Aphora: The place you call home will no longer exist. Your true home will endure, and you with it. Dr. Okorie: What? I thought you said we were leaving. Aphora: Yes. All of us. Together. <Aphora taps her foot on the sand for emphasis again.> Aphora: Here. Dr. Okorie: Here? You mean the city is going through that door? Aphora: You cannot cross the abyss without a vessel. We will be the first to depart, but not the last. There will be three. Dr. Okorie: Three. Three cities? Aphora: Not quite. You'll see on the other side. When we start over. <Dr. Okorie looks away. Across the cavern, a vast fall of sand pours from the ceiling into a thin red frame, forming a new structure where an old one has fallen.> Dr. Okorie: I have no intention of humouring you on this. Aphora: I'm excited to see how you intend to resist. You saw what I can do on my own. Would you pit yourself against all of us, together? <Dr. Okorie turns to face Aphora again.> Dr. Okorie: If you're all so powerful, why keep running? Why not fight back? Aphora: Why bother? Dr. Okorie: You could save the world. <Aphora grins.> Aphora: So what? Dr. Okorie: So what? Aphora: Yes! <Aphora advances on Dr. Okorie. This time, the latter does not retreat.> Aphora: What's so special about this world? If you'd seen what I've seen, you wouldn't even be able to articulate an argument for preserving such a barren backwater. You'd be too embarrassed. What a sad, lightless pit you live in. A pit within a pit. Dr. Okorie: You should talk. <Dr. Okorie gestures at the empty streets.> Dr. Okorie: The lights are off, and nobody's home. Aphora: They will return. And soon. Dr. Okorie: Just long enough to tuck their tails between their legs and leave eight billion people to die. Aphora: They always die, daughter. Universal entropy is only tragic once. The second time, it's boring. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: I'm not your daughter. Aphora: You're our future. You're going to do something astonishing, I think. Dr. Okorie: And what's that? Aphora: You're going to be the grandmother, perhaps even the mother, of the one who puts an end to our long flight. With a few millennia of practice behind your belt, you might give us the child who can match the monsters at last. Dr. Okorie: I'm not waiting. We're going to stop them here. <Dr. Okorie taps the roadbed for emphasis.> Dr. Okorie: In this world. My friends and I. We're going to save everyone. Aphora: Everyone is already dead. Your friends are already dead. <Silence on recording.> Aphora: You want the tour? Sevara will show you around, and you and I can speak later about what it is you saw. Dr. Okorie: Who is Sevara? Aphora: You're the scientist. You figure it out. <Transmission ends.> Addendum 8141-11, ETTRA Consult: In light of her recovered memories and the above revelations, Dr. Okorie requested and received a consultation with Dr. Sokolsky. A transcript of their meeting is appended below. <Transcript begins.> <Dr. Sokolsky sits in his office in Acroamatic Abatement Facility AAF-A. Dr. Okorie remains standing, at the head of his desk.> Dr. Sokolsky's file photo. Dr. Sokolsky: You looking to lose another security clearance level? Let me get ahead of it. You don't need to tell me about every new magic power you develop. I probably already know. Dr. Okorie: What? No. We need to talk about Aph. Dr. Sokolsky: Okay. What about it? Dr. Okorie: It needs to be destroyed. <Dr. Sokolsky nods thoughtfully.> Dr. Sokolsky: It needs this, we need to do this, or you want us to do this? Dr. Okorie: All of the above. Dr. Sokolsky: I'm going to need a pretty spectacular rationale for all of the above. Dr. Okorie: They're working with the giftschreiber, or the schriftsteller. <Dr. Sokolsky raises an eyebrow.> Dr. Sokolsky: I don't see that anywhere in the tapes so far. Quite the contrary, in fact. Dr. Okorie: You're watching those? Dr. Sokolsky: Who exactly do you think you're talking to? Dr. Okorie: I can say the same to you. If you're monitoring that file, you know things are coming back to me bit by bit. Dr. Sokolsky: Yeah. Probably my all-time least favorite method of exposition. I don't have time for piecemeal. Tell me what I need to know — actually, no, tell me everything, and I'll sift out the stuff I need to know, and then I'll do the right thing. I don't really need recommendations. Dr. Okorie: You saw what she said. She knows about the rogue cryptomancers. Dr. Sokolsky: So do I. That doesn't make me one of them. Dr. Okorie: That kind of intimate knowledge— Dr. Sokolsky: You haven't shown intimate knowledge. Neither in the OMNI shorts or what little you've been able to remember. Dr. Okorie: I just know it's true, okay? Trust me. Dr. Sokolsky: No? <Dr. Okorie sighs.> Dr. Okorie: Even if you don't believe me on this, what I can prove is just as damning. They've got the same powers I have. Only instead of a slipshod Foundation training, they're steeped in the traditions that gave them those powers in the first place. They can put out the sun with a storm of red sand. They could shift the continents under our feet. Spin the Earth backward on its axis, if they took a mind to it. Dr. Sokolsky: And your advice is to aggress against these people. Dr. Okorie: Not in a way that leaves any room for response. Burn them down to the bedrock. Dr. Sokolsky: But that only makes sense if we can't get them on our side. And so we swing back around: if they're hell-bent on the crypto crusade, like you insist, why haven't we seen any sign? The giftschreiber and the schriftsteller have been moving against us constantly since Operation: FIREBREAK began. The Hammer's been up to her pointy nose in memetic terrorism for over a year, and even with everything Zwist taught her and her own beautiful mind, it's still more than one woman can handle..References to Dr. Lillian Lillihammer, SCP-6382, and their present assignment to thwart cryptomantic threats to global Foundation operations. I think we'd have heard if the bad guys had added magical sandblasting to their arsenal. Dr. Okorie: They've been waiting. Dr. Sokolsky: For what? For you? Dr. Okorie: No. I don't matter to them. Dr. Sokolsky: Then what? Dr. Okorie: They've been waiting to see which side is going to win. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: That's sand for you. Any which way the wind blows. Dr. Sokolsky: Maybe we could get them to blow our way. Dr. Okorie: Maybe they'd tell you to blow them. <Dr. Sokolsky snorts.> Dr. Sokolsky: Yeesh. And you used to be the innocent one. Dr. Okorie: None of us have ever been innocent. We've been complicit in this from day one. And from what I've seen, day one was a long, long time ago. But there aren't that many days left in the calendar. We need to do something about this, Dr. Sokolsky, and we need to do it soon. Dr. Sokolsky: Gotta say, I'm a lot more interested in — and worried about — the implication that these people come from an entire other universe that doesn't exist anymore. You remember anything new about that? Dr. Okorie: No. Sorry. If I ever knew, I don't anymore. It's possible they took those memories from me. Dr. Sokolsky: You'll keep me posted. Dr. Okorie: Or you'll see it on the magic newsfeed, with the rest of us. Dr. Sokolsky: You might have an easier time making your case if you could point to a time where these people actually followed through on the cataclysmic import you're ascribing to them. Dr. Okorie: I wish I could. But I can't tell you what I don't know. Dr. Sokolsky: So I should just call up my buddies with the orbital kill sat, and have them dig us a new gate to hell… on spec? That is what you're suggesting? Even though I asked you not to suggest anything? Dr. Okorie: That's right. Dr. Sokolsky: We don't even know where the city is. Dr. Okorie: No, but I can find out. Dr. Sokolsky: How do you know? Dr. Okorie: Because… I've been a stranger all my life, everywhere I've gone. That feeling has never left me. I can't put it in rational terms, but after what I saw there… I know I'll be able to find my way back home. One last time. <Transcript ends.> Addendum 8141-12, Further Transmissions (4): It was seven hours before the next OMNI transmission arrived; contextually, either Dr. Okorie must have ceased recording in order to preserve her energy, or the OMNI itself was malfunctioning. A transcript of the new transmission is appended below. <Transmission begins.> <Dr. Okorie is climbing a steep incline in the cavern wall. She turns her head, and the entire scope of the city is visible spread out below her. From this vantage point, it is clear that Aph is entirely denuded of flora and only very sporadically populated; the lights have been dimmed in an approximation of night, revealing that there are not very many of them and they are primarily clustered together around the recent roadwork.> <Dr. Okorie turns back to the almost sheer path, and grunts with effort as she hauls herself up further. Hair and sweat temporarily obscure the OMNI feed, and a voice speaks.> Sevara: She'll kill me if you die, you know. Dr. Okorie: Don't see how that's my problem. <Dr. Okorie turns to see that Sevara is standing beside her, feet hanging over empty air. She is held aloft by a bright cloud of sand. She is scowling.> Sevara: Where are you going? PoI-8141-2, somatic imagery. Dr. Okorie: One of the… whatever they are, told me about the hydroponics in another cavern layer above the main one. I wanted to see. Sevara: Wanted to see if there's a way out, you mean. There isn't. Dr. Okorie: What, me leave? When you've made me feel so welcome? Sevara: You've made us feel real welcome, too. Dr. Okorie: On Earth, you mean? Yeah, still not sure I believe any of that. Sevara: No skin off my nose. <Dr. Okorie is continuing to climb. Sevara follows her without apparent effort.> Sevara: I can understand wanting to take a look. I can't understand doing it… manually. Are you really so unaccomplished? Genetics alone ought to have carried you farther. Dr. Okorie: I don't trust my Talent down here. Too many others who could interfere. Sevara: Or augment. Dr. Okorie: Who'd want to do that? Sevara: We aren't your enemies. Dr. Okorie: You certainly don't act like my friend. Sevara: I'm not. <Dr. Okorie has reached the cavern roof. Sevara moves to the stairs behind her, and they move single-file through a thick layer of sandstone into a sudden burst of foliage.> <The gardens of Aph spread out before them, kilometre on kilometre of plant life reaching up to and framing the second cavern ceiling. Water falls through slots in long, grey stone channels, fed by a constant flow from above.> <Dr. Okorie stops briefly to catch her breath.> Dr. Okorie: What the fuck? Sevara: Hmm? Dr. Okorie: Why so damn much? <She begins moving down the red sand paved pathways running between the nearest planters, vast and verdant. She trails her hand over the miniature aqueducts, and laughs.> Dr. Okorie: There's enough growing here for a hundred times the city's population, if what I saw downstairs is anything to go by. And I'm sure it is, because that was all a big display put on for my benefit. <Sevara shrugs.> Sevara: Maybe this is, too. Maybe it's all to impress you. She just put it in last week, after all. Maybe you're just that fucking important. <Dr. Okorie stops walking.> Dr. Okorie: Last week? <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: Okay, so you and I got off on the wrong foot. Let's work on that. Sevara: Oh boy. Dr. Okorie: What do you do for fun around here? <Sevara looks away.> Sevara: Glassblowing competitions. Dr. Okorie: Really? Sevara: Really? <Dr. Okorie laughs.> Dr. Okorie: Okay. You got me. Now answer the question. Sevara: For fun, I would suggest leaving. Dr. Okorie: That tour's the next best thing, then, I suppose. What should we see first? <Sevara walks farther down the leafy path, running her fingers along the edge of a long, flat frond.> Sevara: This is a waste of time. Dr. Okorie: Yours, mine, or both? Sevara: Both. I don't care about making you feel welcome, and you're not going to see anything worth writing home about. Dr. Okorie: Why's that? The second part, I mean. <Sevara looks back at Dr. Okorie.> Sevara: I've seen every inch of this city. I've known it all since I was a small girl. The bones are strong, I'll bet she told you? <Dr. Okorie nods.> Sevara: There's nothing left but bones. The vultures have picked it all clean. Dr. Okorie: What vultures? Sevara: The rest of them. They've taken everything of value away, or else let it fall apart. You'll find nothing real but ruins here. <Dr. Okorie approaches her, hands outstretched in supplication.> Dr. Okorie: Then show me the ruins. What a people were is almost as important is what they are. <Sevara grimaces.> Sevara: But that's just it. These people were. And now they aren't. Our home is nothing but sand and dark. The people of Aph are scattered across the great tree, wandering the planes, reading and writing and changing things to suit themselves. They don't care for themselves anymore, and they care less for where they came from. They've grown apart from their city, and it hasn't grown at all in their absence. It's not their home, or anybody else's, anymore. Dr. Okorie: It's yours. <Sevara rolls her eyes.> Dr. Okorie: Can you tell me how many there are? The people of Aph? Sevara: Maybe a hundred. At one time, there were thousands. There used to be children. But… <Sevara's expression grows distant.> Sevara: We grow weary of worldly things like hearth and family in the long cold of waning years. Dr. Okorie: That sounded like a quotation. <Sevara's lip curls.> Sevara: Mother dearest. Dr. Okorie: What's it mean? Sevara: Immortals. You know? All gets a bit samey after the first few lifetimes. <Dr. Okorie's heartbeat is now particularly audible on the OMNI feed.> Dr. Okorie: They're immortal? Sevara: Certainly seems like it. They think so, anyway. Lots of ways to tell, but the most obvious is that they mostly can't stand each other. That's why they seek new shores, newer experiences, fanning out and only rarely coming back together. You won't see them again after the ritual. Dr. Okorie: Can you tell me more about that ritual? Sevara: No. Dr. Okorie: More about the people, then. <Sevara sighs.> Sevara: How are you not sick of that yet? I'm sick of it, and I live here. Dr. Okorie: Indulge me. Sevara: Fine. They're sand magicians, like you and me. They've been to places you can't even imagine. They'll tell you about them, if you ask. After the ritual, they might even take you there. If the queen allows it. But they won't tell you anything about themselves. Dr. Okorie: Why not? Sevara: Because they don't know anything about themselves. So if you came here to learn something about who you are? You're going to be even more disappointed. Talk to them long enough, and you might know less than you knew when you first showed up. Dr. Okorie: Kinda sounds like you're trying to convince me to just leave. Sevara: Not at all. That would be even more of a waste of time. Dr. Okorie: I'm persistent. Sevara: That's not what I mean. Dr. Okorie: Then what? Sevara: You won't be leaving until she lets you. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: What about you? Are you staying for the ritual? Sevara: I've never left this city. I'll be here for the big show. And for what comes next, too. Dr. Okorie: Which is? Sevara: Nothing. For a time. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: I'm going to need you to explain that to me. Sevara: I think I'd rather you just worried about it for a while. <She walks past Dr. Okorie, in the direction of the cavern descent.> Dr. Okorie: I get the feeling you're not happy that I'm here. Sevara: Wow, you really do have the insight of a perfect little princess. You'll fit in well here. <Sevara looks over her shoulder, one foot on the first step.> Sevara: Come on. I'm not going to babysit you as you crawl through this tomb, but I can at least show you which walls to push on first. <Transmission ends.> Addendum 8141-13, GoI Consult: As Dr. Okorie's memories of her time in Aph recovered, she expressed interest in coordinating with Dr. Jay Everwood of the Groups of Interest Research Group based out of Site-55. Dr. Everwood's existing duties include determining the origins and future activities of the cryptomantic cults presently persecuting their private war against the Foundation, the giftschreiber and schriftsteller. A transcript of their meeting with Dr. Okorie is appended below. <Transcript begins.> <Dr. Everwood meets Dr. Okorie in the teal-tiled halls of the Applied Occultism Section. The last formal work shift of the day has ended, and the halls are empty save for the two of them. They walk past the various laboratories and concentration cells as they speak.> Dr. Everwood: So, another Group of Interest. Another Group mostly of Interest to Site-43. Dr. Everwood's file photo. <Dr. Okorie smiles.> Dr. Okorie: What can I say? We're popular. Dr. Everwood: Feels like I'm up here every other week now. Dr. Okorie: They should give you an office. Dr. Everwood: They did give me an office. <Dr. Okorie pats Dr. Everwood on the back. The latter blinks rapidly in apparent surprise.> Dr. Okorie: Nice. Good for you. Dr. Everwood: So, the Shifting City. Is there a demonym? Dr. Okorie: A what? Dr. Everwood: A name for these people specifically. Dr. Okorie: No. Not that I'm aware of, anyway. They're not very organized, and there aren't very many of them. Dr. Everwood: Probably for the best. But, uh. It's not like we can call them 'sand people'. <Dr. Okorie guffaws. It echoes resoundingly in the bare corridor.> Dr. Okorie: No, we'd probably better not do that. Dr. Everwood: Aphians? Dr. Okorie: That works. Dr. Everwood: So, what are they like? Our Aphians? Dr. Okorie: Desert lizards. <Dr. Everwood frowns.> Dr. Everwood: How's that? Dr. Okorie: They spend virtually no time together, except to mate or raise their children. Dr. Everwood: Huh. Loose social structure then. What about culture? Dr. Okorie: Mostly in the past. My mother sang me an epic of the second strata — that's something to do with timekeeping, although the periodization escapes me, and she didn't exactly try to help — with all the names and professions of the builders who were responsible for creating the bulk of the city. They're very proud of what they've built, but they haven't built very much in a very long time. Dr. Everwood: How long are we talking? Dr. Okorie: Centuries. Maybe more. Dr. Everwood: You parted on good terms? Dr. Okorie: As far as they know. Dr. Everwood: I mean, you say your mother sang to you. Dr. Okorie: It was pride doing the singing. You could hear it in her voice. <They walk in silence for a moment.> Dr. Everwood: What's the most impressive cultural artifact you encountered? Dr. Okorie: A crystalline aqueduct, bringing water from a deep aquifer up to the gardens on the highest level. A rolling liquid elevator powered by an endless sandfall. Sand power, to move water. <Dr. Okorie chuckles and shakes her head in apparent admiration, but her smile is sad.> Dr. Okorie: They alternated responsibility for it. It must've been a few kilometers long, and it made a sound like a harp being plucked as the water rushed across the glass. The glass was frosted, and lit with braziers that never went out. You could see the flickering of the water all throughout that district of the city, when the roof was raised. Dr. Everwood: That sounds lovely. Dr. Okorie: It does sound lovely. Wish I'd been able to see it. Dr. Everwood: What? Dr. Okorie: I encountered it in a cave painting. The deepest levels of the city, far beneath the reach of the roads, below the foundations of the oldest buildings, below even the ritual chambers, border on a sort of… archive. Paleolithic… I guess 'paleosilicate' would be more accurate. I spent hours down there, interpreting what I saw. Most of the paint was scuffed or rotted away, but that aqueduct, you could almost imagine it in living colour. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: Nothing but dead etchings from a dead hand, now. So far as I can tell, the whole place sat in its shatters just beneath the surface for an age. Before they started coming back, and she sunk it down further to accommodate a new garden. All engineering, now. No crystal. No music. Dr. Everwood: I take this to mean that you didn't actually see anything cultural of note. Dr. Okorie: No. I didn't. I don't think there was anything to see. Dr. Everwood: What did you mean, "when the roof was raised"? Wasn't it always raised? <Dr. Okorie shakes her head.> Dr. Okorie: That was just for show, the first couple days. It came back down when they started working on the ritual in earnest. Most of the city is obscured with a veil of sand at any given moment; they all know their way around, and they all have the power, so they generally just tunnel to wherever they want to go. For stability reasons, most of the city is never uncovered. <Dr. Everwood clicks their tongue thoughtfully.> Dr. Everwood: If they used to spend so much time together, creating these wonderful things, what do you think drove them apart? Did you learn anything about that? Dr. Okorie: Whatever it was, it started in the first strata. They were the most powerful and accomplished peoples of their age. They could work miracles; my mother said they had some sort of control over reality itself. But they tried something so bold, so dangerous, that when it went wrong… I think that started to poison them. The failure. The drive to replace it with success. <Dr. Okorie frowns. Her eyes flicker.> Dr. Okorie: It made them bitter. Drove them apart from each other, bit by bit. Aph is full of garrets and towers and sunken studies, where each of them used to work alone on that eternal problem. The ultimate act of creation. <Dr. Everwood is about to respond, but Dr. Okorie raises a hand.> Dr. Okorie: I don't know what it was. Couldn't even guess. But I saw a few of those workspaces and studios, abandoned, as I explored — Sevara left me to my own devices, after setting me on the right track. A laboratory filled with a spider's web of gleaming glass alembics, and the smell of burning still in the air after all those years. Ritual circles that hurt to look at. Frescoes on the walls depicting all manner of cryptic activities. Dr. Everwood: What was it they were trying to do? The thing that failed? Dr. Okorie: I think I'd rather wait and see what shows up on the tapes, before I answer that. It's hazy in my mind now, but I think it was very clear on the ground. Under the ground. Dr. Everwood: I'm going to need a profile on every one of the Aphians you met in that city, Dr. Okorie. But before we start into that, is there anything else you want to say about these people? <Dr. Okorie considers.> Dr. Okorie: Yes. There is. <Silence on recording. Dr. Okorie stops walking, and turns to face Dr. Everwood directly.> Dr. Okorie: I think it's a good thing their rituals didn't work. Dr. Everwood: Yes? Dr. Okorie: I think that if they had, they might have killed us all before we'd ever had a chance to be born. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: And I think they're still trying. <Transcript ends.> Addendum 8141-14, Further Transmissions (5): The next OMNI transmission was not received and decoded for nearly a day. In the interim, as the stalemate at Area-71 showed no sign of lifting, Dir. McInnis suggested that Chief Ibanez and Dr. Astrauskas return to Site-43 to assist Dr. Okorie in her research. This suggestion was declined, and the Director did not press further. Dr. Okorie instead resumed her studies in Archives and Revision with the assistance of Dr. Blank and his staff. As she felt herself near to a breakthrough in determining the physical location of the City of Aph, she declined to witness the completed transmission with Dr. McInnis when it arrived. A transcript of that transmission is appended below. <Transmission begins.> <Dr. Okorie stands in darkness, a cone of grey sand barely visible in her hands. Grain by grain detaches, spins in the air, and briefly flares out, providing a dull sort of light by which she can see worked stone and a pitch black passage leading down.> City of Aph, lower levels, somatic imagery. Dr. Okorie: What is this? <Sevara responds, though she is not visible.> Sevara: The oldest, deepest quarter of the city. The Severed Halls. Dr. Okorie: Why were they severed? Sevara: Because they speak to the past. <Dr. Okorie turns to face the other woman. Her eyes are burning low.> Dr. Okorie: Why doesn't anyone in this city want to think about their history? <Sevara gestures at the dark passage.> Sevara: You'll see, when you know what it is. Dr. Okorie: Am I going to find a catacomb made of human skulls? Sevara: No. Dr. Okorie: The spoils of an ancient war? Sevara: No. Dr. Okorie: What, then? Sevara: A record. The mad etchings of an order of hermits exiled from the upper city. Dr. Okorie: Exiled for what? Sevara: Remembering. <Dr. Okorie turns to face the rectangle of black again.> Dr. Okorie: Why only exile them? Why not destroy them? Aphora seemed plenty proud of the city's martial heritage. That stuff about the Daeva. Sevara: Because the others can only forget if someone remembers. There are things commemorated down there which cannot be forgotten forever. Things they don't like to think about now, but might someday need to know again. <Dr. Okorie takes a step forward, then turns back to face the other woman.> Dr. Okorie: You're coming in with me? Sevara: No. Dr. Okorie: Why not? I could use a guide, and probably more than a few explanations. Sevara: I want to see what you make of it. Maybe you'll see something I haven't yet. <Dr. Okorie seems to shrug.> Dr. Okorie: Okay. I guess we'll talk when I come back out. <Sevara turns, and begins to walk away.> Sevara: I won't be here. You can talk about it with the queen. I'm sure I'll be able to hear the two of you shouting from where I've gone. <Transmission interrupted.> <Transmission resumes.> <Dr. Okorie is walking through a narrow, winding passage of carved stone. The only sand in sight comes from her makeshift torch. She holds it in front of her face, or over her head, by turns, illuminating countless cave paintings in various stages of disrepair.> <She squints at a rendering of a black figure speckled with white pinpricks, surrounded by tiny maroon figures which appear to be fleeing from it. Its cloak is spread wide, as if to cover the entire scene in darkness.> Dr. Okorie: That's what I thought. <She clears her throat.> Dr. Okorie: This place is a record of… the things the people of Aph got up to before they settled on their sand magic, I think. On Earth. I haven't seen anything earlier than that. Nothing that looks completely foreign to me, anyway. These were painted by human hands, or at least hands acting on human sensibilities. Maybe there's no record of the world they left behind at all… <She reaches the torch forward to better illuminate the painting in front of her.> Dr. Okorie: This is the last entry in a sequence. Best I can tell, it's about wresting rationality out of chaos. Making the universe responsive. Wise men and wise women pondering a problem from so many angles, they could… I don't know. See it in three dimensions. Make it real. Really real. This city was on the surface, once. I've seen it with trees, and vines, and big red berry bushes in some of the oldest images. Images of harvest. Images of darkness dotted with little fires, the city a big black blob. I think… I think they decided to declare war on the night. <She reaches out to touch the painting. The paint flakes under her fingertips.> Dr. Okorie: No, not war. They wanted to treat with it. More time in the light. More time for their crops to grow. They wanted to speak to the night. <She taps the bare rock beside the dark figure.> Dr. Okorie: I think they fucked up. This is SCP-5281-D, Bonhomme Sept-Heures. The Quebecois manifestation of the night. A boogeyman who eats children. I've been using his pixie dust as my primary reagent for over twenty years. I always felt a connection to it. Now I know why. <Dr. Okorie draws a deep breath.> Dr. Okorie: I think these people cracked the code of the universe. They knew how to turn natural forces into… people. Men. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: Half-men. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: This painting is too well-preserved, though. It can't be all that old. Maybe a few hundred years? I need to go deeper. <Transmission interrupted.> <Transmission resumes.> <Dr. Okorie is standing in pitch blackness.> Dr. Okorie: All those records of construction and creation, glass pyramids and ten-storey statues and the like, even the Bonhomme, that all came after. Those were the consolation prizes. What I'm seeing down here in the depths, this was the good stuff. Their worst mistakes. <Her torch flares to life, illuminating faint pigments on the cavern wall. What little survives can be interpreted as a central figure split down the middle, dark and light. The sun and moon rise above, and six lesser figures raise their arms to the greater one in a cryptic gesture that might represent supplication, praise, creation, or all of the above.> Dr. Okorie: This. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: This was the first. Parietal art within the Severed Halls, somatic imagery. <Transmission ends.> Addendum 8141-15, Memetics Consult: Her research and preparations nearly complete, Dr. Okorie approached Dr. Lillian Lillihammer, Chair of Memetics and Countermemetics at Site-43, for a final professional consultation prior to the presentation of her findings. A transcript of their meeting is appended below. <Transcript begins.> <Dr. Lillihammer stands in the airlock approach to Acroamatic Abatement Facility AAF-D, in front of the memorial mural to the victims of SCP-5243. Dr. Okorie stands beside her. They are facing the figures on the wall.> Dr. Okorie: Talk to me about Operation: FIREBREAK. Dr. Lillihammer's file photo. <Dr. Lillihammer glances at her in surprise.> Dr. Lillihammer: Uh, you're not cleared. Anymore. <Dr. Okorie reaches up to place a hand on Dr. Lillihammer's shoulder.> Dr. Okorie: Come on. We're friends. Dr. Lillihammer: Friends on the record. <Dr. Okorie glances up at the nearest security camera, from which this feed is sourced.> Dr. Okorie: So turn the record off, and then tell me. <Dr. Lillihammer grunts.> Dr. Lillihammer: You know the broad strokes already. The giftschreiber are pushing on every front, except where the schriftsteller are doing it. There's a new memetic attack on a new facility every other day. All sub rosa, for now. But that can't last. Dr. Okorie: Because the world is ending. Dr. Lillihammer: Yeah. Hard to hide that sort of thing from the public, at least until after the fact. Dr. Okorie: What does that… <Dr. Okorie shakes her head.> Dr. Okorie: Never mind. What if I told you I knew what they were after? Dr. Lillihammer: I'd tell you we already know. They're after the end of the world. You know, the thing that's actually happening. Right now. That we were just talking about. Dr. Okorie: No. They're not. Dr. Lillihammer: Then what? Dr. Okorie: They're looking for the City of Aph. <Dr. Lillihammer shakes the hand off her shoulder and turns to face Dr. Okorie. Dr. Okorie is fully obscured from camera view by Dr. Lillihammer's height.> Dr. Lillihammer: And you know this because… Dr. Okorie: Because I talked to one of them. Dr. Lillihammer: …okay? Put the pieces in order for me. It's been a long day. Dr. Okorie: I remember why I knew about Area-71 now. Dr. Lillihammer: Area-71, which is still shut up like a constipated clam. Dr. Okorie: They're in there. I've got it on the best authority. One of the Aphians infiltrated the giftschreiber months ago, Lillian. My mother doesn't keep a very close eye on her activities. Dr. Lillihammer: I get it. The unfavourite. <Dr. Okorie frowns.> Dr. Okorie: No, not at all. I think she's just… Trusted. As she should be. Mostly. Dr. Lillihammer: Except for the part where she goes off and consorts with memetic terrorists. Dr. Okorie: Right. Except that's also in the city's best interests. Sevara, that's her name, has been spying on the giftschreiber to stop them from finding Aph. Dr. Lillihammer: And why do they want to find Aph? Dr. Okorie: Because it's key to their plans. It's how they make the end happen. Dr. Lillihammer: Do tell. Dr. Okorie: There's a ritual, a thaumaturgical working the Aphians can perform, which triggers a cataclysm when local reality's been worn thin enough. This is something they've done before, at least once. In the world they came from. Dr. Lillihammer: Why would they do it here? They're on, or under, the same planet we are. Dr. Okorie: That's just half of the ritual. The other half is harnessing an incredible source of power. Dr. Lillihammer: Which is? Dr. Okorie: That exact same unraveling of reality. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Lillihammer: You mean… Dr. Okorie: They're going to ride the tidal wave to escape the earthquake. The death throes of the universe will push them out of it. Dr. Lillihammer: And the crypto cults know about this. Dr. Okorie: That's right. Aph strikes the final blow, and Aph gets to escape before reality dies. That's how they got here in the first place, unless I miss my guess. And then the bad guys figured that out, and asked to be cut in on the deal next time. In exchange for leaving Aph alone, until the next curtain call. Dr. Lillihammer: This is conjecture? Dr. Okorie: It's what happened. A gentlemen's agreement for the orderly annihilation of the Earth. Once it isn't fun anymore. Once it's all fall into pieces anyway. Do you see where I'm going with this, Lillian? Dr. Lillihammer: Yes. You're going where you already took Daniil. You think we ought to nuke these people from orbit. Dr. Okorie: That's right. Two birds, one stone. End the war, end the mechanism of our destruction. Neat and tidy. Honestly, I think it's a multiversal moral prerogative. Dr. Lillihammer: So, wait. If Aph's in on the scheme, why are they hiding? Why don't they want the gifts and schrifts to know where they are? Dr. Okorie: Because the gifts and schrifts want to change the deal. They want to blow the world up ahead of schedule. They've wanted it for years. <Dr. Lillihammer turns away, walks past the mural, and leans on the nearest patch of bare wall. She shakes her head.> Dr. Lillihammer: Why? Dr. Okorie: Because we're kicking their asses. Dr. Lillihammer: Mm. Yeah, actually. Can attest. <Dr. Lillihammer essays a limp muscle flex.> Dr. Lillihammer: Well, any progress on finding it? The city? Dr. Okorie: I've got it. Dr. Lillihammer: …really. Dr. Okorie: Trust me, I've got it. They move around from time to time, to keep themselves safe from the cryptomancers, but since we propped ourselves up as a bigger target and have been taking the heat off them, they've grown complacent. They've been in the same place for a very long time, and that leaves scars. Scars I can read. Dr. Lillihammer: And why are you telling me this? Why aren't you talking to Daniil again? <Dr. Okorie approaches Dr. Lillihammer, hands in her labcoat pockets.> Dr. Okorie: Because I need you all on my side when I pitch this to the Director. Dr. Lillihammer: Allan? Dr. Okorie: No. Dan. The Director of ETTRA. He's the only one who can authorize something like this. And he's going to need the backing of the O5 Council to do it. <Dr. Lillihammer shakes her head.> Dr. Lillihammer: You don't need to explain yourself to me, Udo. You should know that. Dr. Okorie: This is too important to leave anything to chance. When we pull this trigger, all our problems go away. <Dr. Lillihammer releases Dr. Okorie's hands, and raises her own in mock triumph.> Dr. Lillihammer: Hurray for guns, which definitely work exactly like that. <Transcript ends.> Addendum 8141-16, Operation SANDWORM: Having shown that the City of Aph was a clear and present danger to the ongoing operations of the SCP Foundation and the stability of baseline reality as a whole, and with the support of Dr. Lillihammer and Dr. Sokolsky, Dr. Okorie received Overwatch Command and ETTRA authorization for a targeted orbital strike on a stretch of desert within the Kingdom of Jordan. On 12 October a classified location was excavated to a depth of one kilometre by focused laser fire from OWP-02 ("Pyre of Croesus"), completely obliterating the site and its contents. On inspecting the results, Dr. Okorie declared the threat posed by the City of Aph to have been neutralized. Addendum 8141-17, Further Transmissions (6): The next OMNI transmissions, received on 13 October, were particularly badly fragmented and artifacted. This may have been the result of Dr. Okorie intentionally diverting the electrochemical energy powering the implant back into her own bodily and mental functions, as her activities in the City of Aph were no doubt the source of considerable exhaustion by this point. It may also have been the result of the orbital laser strike interrupting the delayed somatic dispersal. A transcript of the transmission is appended below. <Transmission begins.> <Dr. Okorie is still in the Severed Halls. She has located what appears to be a fresh set of cave paintings, progressing from crudity to relative technical sophistication. Brushes and bottles of paint are in evidence on the cavern floor. She pans across each image in turn: two women with dark skin and bright orange eyes, one taller than the other, walking through a brightly-rendered city, domed ceiling overhead; the same two women with their arms outstretched to the sky, manipulating the stars; two women of approximately the same height, meticulously reconstructing the ruined façade of the black palace at the heart of Aph. The final image is sophisticated enough to identify both women: Aphora and Sevara.> <Dr. Okorie turns in place. There are at least dozens of these paintings, perhaps hundreds.> Dr. Okorie: Aph has no library. Sevara: It didn't, anyway. <Sevara enters the grey light, glancing at the paintings on the walls.> Sevara: Found my archive, huh. Dr. Okorie: I don't want you angry with me. Sevara: That's a promising start. Dr. Okorie: We don't have to address it if you don't want to. Sevara: Oh, rip off the fucking Band-Aid already. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: Why do you talk like that? Sevara: Like what? Dr. Okorie: Like me. You never leave the city, but your speech is modern vernacular. You sound nothing like your… <Silence on recording.> Sevara: That counts. It's been addressed now. Dr. Okorie: I understand why you hate me. Sevara: I don't hate you. I don't really have an opinion of you. Dr. Okorie: But it has to feel like I'm supplanting— Sevara: No. Dr. Okorie: But— Sevara: No. You're nothing to her, don't you understand that? She couldn't possibly care less about you. Dr. Okorie: And the feeling is mutual. Sevara: Great. Look. Listen. <Sevara places her hand on the cave wall, between two of her murals.> Sevara: I've lived almost every day of my life in this city. A lot of it on my own, waiting for her to come home. But she always does. She always comes back to me. She raised me. She made me the caretaker of her legacy, my birthright. I'm her daughter, in a way you could never be. Dr. Okorie: And I don't want to be. <Sevara pulls on her hair in frustration.> Sevara: Oh, who gives a shit? This isn't about you. It's about us. Her, and me, and the people who live in this city. What we need. We need you, but you aren't one of us. You brought all that baggage down here yourself. Nobody here cares any more about mending bridges than you do. Dr. Okorie: Then why am I here, Sevara? Do you need my magic? Am I a sacrifice in your ritual? Sevara: No. You're still her flesh and blood. She wouldn't harm you. Dr. Okorie: What, then? What? Sevara: She needs you to believe in her. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: Why? <Sevara stares at her.> Dr. Okorie: Sevara? Why? <Dr. Okorie drops the torch. OMNI view becomes extremely dark, distorted, and hue-shifted; the only apparent light sources are the two women's eyes.> <Dr. Okorie stretches out her hands, and takes Sevara's. The other woman does not resist.> PoI-8141-2, somatic imagery. Dr. Okorie: Listen to me. Whatever she's doing, she's not doing it for you. She's doing it for herself. Sevara: You don't know. Dr. Okorie: I do. <Sevara shakes her hands away.> Sevara: You have no idea. We could be gone already. Dr. Okorie: Gone? Sevara: Into the empty. Where none of this can touch us. We could have moved the whole city, lock, stock and barrel someplace nobody could ever find us again. But instead, we're still here. Because of you. Dr. Okorie: I don't believe that. Sevara: You're calling me a liar? Dr. Okorie: I don't know you from a hole in the ground. I don't know this place from a hole in the ground. I have no reason to trust any of you. Sevara: We're still here because she insisted on waiting for you. Dr. Okorie: Then why couldn't she just come and collect me? Sevara: She said you had to earn your salvation. Dr. Okorie: Well, I'm here now. So what's stopping the great migration? Sevara: I don't know. Dr. Okorie: Why not? Sevara: I just don't. Dr. Okorie: I thought you were the dutiful one. She keeps secrets from you? Sevara: Turnabout is fair play. Dr. Okorie: What's that supposed to mean? Sevara: I have my secrets too. But take my word for it, she wants what's best for us. <Dr. Okorie sighs.> Dr. Okorie: There is no 'us' here. Sevara: You've never heard of a diaspora? Dr. Okorie: I have. That isn't what this is. <Dr. Okorie glances at the paintings, one after the other. She knocks on the stone, several times. Nothing happens.> Dr. Okorie: Had to try. Sevara: You were saying? <Dr. Okorie sighs.> Dr. Okorie: A diaspora isn't a bunch of people who got so sick of each other one day, they decided to get as far away as they possibly could. There wasn't some great catastrophe that scattered these people to the winds. This is more like… a big, shitty family that only comes together at Christmas. Sevara: You don't know what you're talking about. Dr. Okorie: No, you're right. That's not it. Let me try again. This city is a fallout shelter. People only come here when they think the bombs are falling. Sevara: I've lived here most of my life. This city is my home. I know the others feel the same way. Dr. Okorie: Then why does it feel like a mausoleum to me? Sevara: Because you aren't one of us. And you never will be. <Dr. Okorie takes a deep breath, and faces her sister again.> Dr. Okorie: Finally, something we agree on. I'll never take her side on this. And neither should you. <Sevara raises a hand in warning.> Sevara: I'm going to save you the breath, Kelila. Don't try to make me see things your way. It isn't going to happen. Dr. Okorie: You're young. Actually young. Not like her. Not even like me. You can change. Sevara: I don't want to change. Dr. Okorie: You'll want to have changed, some day. You'll see this place for what it is. A dead end. You'll see her for what she is. An abusive coward. And it might be too late to fix your heart, when that happens. You'll need the head start. Sevara: You're an idiot. Dr. Okorie: You're naïve. <Sevara slaps her.> Sevara: You're an idiot. A coward runs and hides when they should be facing their problems head-on! An idiot thinks there's never a situation where that's the right approach. A situation like this! Dr. Okorie: Running and hiding will let them win. The poisoners. Sevara: They're going to win no matter what! Dr. Okorie: You don't know that. Sevara: I do! I do know it. <Sevara turns her back on Dr. Okorie.> Sevara: I know more about them than she does. Probably more than you do. Dr. Okorie: How's that? Sevara: The point is, she's right. They're going to try to destroy us. Probably right after they destroy you. Dr. Okorie: Or we could fight them. Together. An army of sand witches and sand wizards— Sevara: There's no army here. We do what we want. Pick our causes for ourselves. Dr. Okorie: Then your mother is the queen of nothing. <Silence on recording.> Sevara: Our mother. <Dr. Okorie reaches out to place a hand on Sevara's back.> Dr. Okorie: If she didn't have you, Sevara, she would have been nobody's mother. <Sevara's shoulders fall.> Sevara: She should have let you suffocate. Dr. Okorie: Let me? <Dr. Okorie laughs harshly.> Dr. Okorie: Your mother was going to allow me to suck down sand until I died, if I couldn't force it away myself. You know why? <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: Because if I couldn't take care of myself, if I wasn't a prodigy, if I didn't have the power, I was no daughter of hers. Nothing worth having, if she couldn't use me to advance her goals. Whatever they are. That woman doesn't value you for who you are, Sevara. Only what she can get out of you. <Sevara turns to face Dr. Okorie again. The light from her eyes is flickering as tears flow down her cheeks.> Sevara: Don't lecture me about my family. You don't know the first thing. Dr. Okorie: I know the only thing that matters. I know it isn't my family. And it isn't going to be. Sevara: I wish I could get rid of you. Dr. Okorie: You can. Show me the way out. Sevara: So you can tell everybody where we are? Fat chance. Dr. Okorie: Open your Way. Send me back to the Library. Sevara: You know too much. You're never leaving this city. Dr. Okorie: Well. Maybe that's an improvement. Sevara: Meaning? Dr. Okorie: Meaning at least one person will actually live in this dusty necropolis, for a change. <Sevara sighs, then raises a hand. The OMNI transmission view is suddenly occluded. Dr. Okorie gasps, and the feed goes black.> <Transmission ends.> Addendum 8141-18, Aftermath: On the evening of 13 October, after the destruction of the City of Aph and receipt of what is believed to have been the final OMNI transmission, Dr. Astrauskas submitted the following satellite image to Dr. Dan ███████, Director of ETTRA. Satellite imagery. She also appended the following contrast-enhanced analysis: Satellite imagery, enhanced. She posited that she and Chief Ibanez had located one of the city's previous sites, and requested permission for an expedition to confirm or deny this thesis. As Chief Ibanez possesses Protocol GYRUS security clearance, and as the lockdown at Area-71 had still not been lifted, this request was honoured without question. Results pending. Addendum 8141-19, Final Transmission: An additional, unexpected transmission from Dr. Okorie's OMNI was received in the early morning of 14 October. The signal strength was incredibly strong, and all data arrived in a single packet. A transcript of this transmission is appended below. <Transmission begins.> <Dr. Okorie opens her eyes. She is looking at a complicated geometric pattern making up the ceiling of a spacious bedroom. She sits up, and staggers uncertainly to the door.> <The hall outside is spacious, the walls made of sand and decorated with a complex pattern of roses and thorns intertwined. There are no doors, and the floor is rippling slightly; she stumbles forward as the ripples strike her feet, propelling her to the corridor's end where a large stone arch leads into a well-lit room.> <This room is on the outer edge of the Palace of Aph. Its curved wall is all clear glass, as is its ceiling; sandstone pillars stand at intervals. The footings of the hydroponic gardens and the edges of the raised cavern are visible beyond. The floor is carved sandstone. In the centre of the room is Aphora, Queen of Aph.> PoI-8141-1, somatic imagery. Aphora: You're a heavy sleeper. Dr. Okorie: How long has it been? Aphora: Days. Dr. Okorie: Do you know where she went? <Aphora frowns.> Aphora: Went? Sevara, you mean? Dr. Okorie: Yes. My sister. <Aphora's face breaks into a wide smile.> Aphora: You have no idea how pleased I am to hear that you've accepted us. <Dr. Okorie shakes her head.> Dr. Okorie: Her, not you. Not any of the rest of this. But you've trapped her down here, in your past, just like you want to trap me. Just like you've trapped yourself, and all the others. I empathize with her. She's the only one who never got a choice. <Aphora snorts, and turns to look out at her city.> Aphora: She would have chosen me anyway. Dr. Okorie: I believe that's true. <She walks to join Aphora at the window.> Dr. Okorie: Like I said, I empathize with her. I would never betray my mother. <Aphora sighs, and closes her eyes.> Aphora: I was really, truly hoping you would come to me doe-eyed and longing. That a little acceptance and the hint of respect would be enough to make you see me as your guide and saviour. It would have made this so much easier. It's going to be so much… so much more difficult, without your help. Dr. Okorie: Why is that? Aphora: I have no reason to tell you. <They look down on the city together. The streets are rapidly coming into much better repair as the small work crew moves along them, packing sand into the cracks and crevices and righting the slanted structures.> Dr. Okorie: Are you ever going to ask me why I came here? <Aphora snorts.> Aphora: Ask? I know why you came here. Dr. Okorie: Well, let's hear it. Aphora: You came here for me. Dr. Okorie: Did I. <The flash of Aphora's eyes is refracted and amplified by the window glass.> Aphora: Yes. You did. You came to meet your mother. Dr. Okorie: You're not my mother. I already told you her name. Aphora: I bore you in my body for nine months. Dr. Okorie: She raised me for twenty years. That's a hell of a lot more sweat equity. <Aphora reaches out and places an arm around Dr. Okorie's shoulders. Dr. Okorie seems to stiffen, but makes no effort to refuse the gesture.> Aphora: You and I share a bond that you and she never could. Not in twenty thousand years could she understand you the way I do. Dr. Okorie: I didn't come here for you. Get over yourself. <Aphora recoils, pulling back her arm and hunching forward slightly as she faces Dr. Okorie. Her eyes are blazing orange again.> Aphora: I'm not the one having trouble understanding who she is. I expected you to be resentful, but I also expected you to be honest. You came here to learn who you are. And that's something I can teach you. Dr. Okorie: I came here for my medical records. <Aphora blinks.> Aphora: What? Dr. Okorie: Pretty common birth parent stuff. Are there any diseases I'm particularly prone to? With my sand witch heritage? <Aphora stares at her.> Aphora: This is just one big joke to you, isn't it? You've been speaking out of one side of your mouth since you came here. Dr. Okorie: Yeah. I do have trouble taking this place seriously. Because so do you. <Aphora is almost snarling now.> Aphora: You're not angry that I've neglected my city, or our people. You're angry that I neglected you. Dr. Okorie: I'm angry that you think I care about that. Let me tell you what I care about. There's a world out there in the throes of the worst cataclysm it has ever known. There's an asteroid coming to kill off the dinosaurs, but I suspect there's a way to deflect it. And I suspect you know something you're not telling, something that could help. Aphora: And why do you think that? Why do you think your heritage is inextricably entwined with the fate of the entire Earth? What a princessly arrogance you possess. Dr. Okorie: Because it's like you said. I've seen this city in my dreams. <Aphora laughs without humour.> Aphora: We all see it in our dreams. That's what you've failed to understand. That's how we commune. <She looks out the window again, down at the repair and construction work.> Aphora: In dreams, we walk these streets again. We are never far from them. The sands of Aph, the sands of time and the sands of sleep are but the same. We carry our city everywhere we go. Dr. Okorie: I see it in my dreams, but I hear the voice of an ancient beast. A beast that lives inside of me. A beast I think you know. <Aphora stares at her.> Dr. Okorie: There's a connection between our people and the crisis happening topside. Between the giftschreiber and schriftsteller, the Uncontained and the Unyielding..SCP-001-A and SCP-001-B, twin entities of chaos and order, presumed cause of the present reality breakdown. I want to know what it is. Aphora: You're grasping for connections where none exist. <Dr. Okorie snarls.> Dr. Okorie: So are you. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: Tell me the story. Tell me about the mural with the split figure. <Aphora continues to stare at her, but her eyes are narrowing.> Aphora: You've been digging deep. Dr. Okorie: I know that. I don't know the story. Tell me. <Aphora sighs.> Aphora: It isn't a commemoration. It's a prophecy. Dr. Okorie: Of what? Aphora: Of something that happened, two thousand years later. <She reaches out to touch the glass.> Aphora: They were seers, the denizens of what we now call the Severed Halls. They called our aspirations folly. Dangerous, deadly folly. And they were right. Dr. Okorie: They saw this coming. <Aphora nods.> Aphora: One day their warnings became so strident, we cast them out. As their predictions became our past, each admonition seemed ever more prescient. But the damage was done. Our fates were sealed. We moved on, never looking back. Afraid to see their eyes peering back at us, from so long ago. When all was promise and possibility. Dr. Okorie: What happened to them? The seers? Aphora: They exit this tale, and come into another. It isn't mine to tell, even if I wanted to. But… our people do have a legend. Dr. Okorie: Only the one? Aphora: Yes. <Silence on recording.> Aphora: It's a rhetorical explanation of the nature of the world. Dr. Okorie: Okay. Aphora: And a badly reductive one, at that. It tells of chaos and order enveloping each other in the form of opposite-oriented spirals, each waxing and waning as the other wanes and waxes. Dr. Okorie: I've heard that model before. Aphora: I know you have. Dr. Okorie: That's how the giftschreiber and schriftsteller describe their conflict. Which ends with the end of the world. Aphora: There's nothing in this myth about the end of the world. It's merely allegorical, a way of understanding primordial forces. Dr. Okorie: And a pertinent one. What do the figures on the mural represent? The half-men? Aphora: You will never need to know. Dr. Okorie: I've met them. Aphora: What? Dr. Okorie: They live in my house. They're at Site-43. <Aphora turns away from the window, her attention now fixed on Dr. Okorie.> Aphora: That's impossible. Dr. Okorie: You didn't know? The cryptomancers sure did. They even sent a guy to shoot one of them. <Aphora's eyes widen.> Aphora: Shoot… what happened? They didn't die? Dr. Okorie: They're in a coma. Aphora: Which one? Which one was shot? Dr. Okorie: What's it matter? They're only allegories. Aphora: Kelila— Dr. Okorie: My name is Udo Okorie. <Aphora sighs in frustration, glaring up at the ceiling for a moment before resuming her focus.> Aphora: Udo, this is important. Which one did they shoot? Dr. Okorie: I'll tell you if you tell me the real story. <Silence on recording.> Aphora: Fine. <Aphora sits on the floor. After a moment, Dr. Okorie joins her. The queen begins sketching out a rough approximation of the mural seen in Addendum 8141-14.> Aphora: You're right. The figures are literal. We call them ysh-aial, the goddess of order, and ash-yial, goddess of chaos. <She taps the black and white half-figures as she says these names.> Dr. Okorie: Goddesses? That's not right. Aphora: It's been a long time. Even deities change. Dr. Okorie: How long precisely? Aphora: Precision is difficult. I won't explain why. But it's been ages and ages, at any rate, since these beings were created. Dr. Okorie: What created them? Aphora: You need to understand the context. We had our powers, and we were hunted for them. We had our city, and we were hated for it. We were surrounded by people who didn't want to understand us, just wanted us gone. At best. At worst, they wanted to take what we had. Our home. Our abilities. For hundreds of years, the sands swallowed them up. Dr. Okorie: You killed them. Aphora: Of course. You'd have done the same. <Her eyes narrow again as she inspects Dr. Okorie.> Aphora: You have done the same. When was it? Dr. Okorie: A long time ago. Aphora: How did it feel? Was it— Dr. Okorie: I'm not telling the stories today. You are. <Aphora shrugs.> Aphora: Fine. For hundreds of years we fought our neighbours, shifting the city deeper beneath the sands, even combining our efforts to move it inch by inch toward new, less hostile climes. Sometimes we emerged to share our wisdom with those who would listen, few though they were, and we found that our efforts succeeded and failed in accordance with the rhythm of the world. The human world. Its progress through an endless cycle backward and forward and backward again. Always progressing in the end, but not by much, and never without a cost. This was inherent in the nature of mankind. Dr. Okorie: And it still is. Aphora: Yes. Once we understood the nature of this cycle, we sought to control it. Not to harness the power, you understand, but to shift its balance. To make the world safer, more logical, less fearful, less ignorant. We wanted to change these key aspects of the universe. Dr. Okorie: And did you? Aphora: Yes and no. Our greatest minds spent hundreds of years engrossed by the problem, and at last devised a solution. We would make the world negotiable by making it receptive to negotiation. By enabling ourselves to converse with these forces directly. Dr. Okorie: Speak truth to power. Aphora: That's right. So, we created them. Dr. Okorie: You created… Aphora: Them. The goddesses. We created them as anchors for their concepts, archons of order and chaos. Dr. Okorie: You made goddesses. Aphora: That's right. We needed them to exist, so we made it so. Dr. Okorie: You created the Unyielding and the Uncontained. Aphora: If that's what you call them, then yes. We did. Dr. Okorie: How did your negotiations go? <Aphora laughs, bitterly.> Aphora: Not well. Dr. Okorie: Seems like you guys make enemies everywhere you go huh? Tell me, how did your first world die? Aphora: I've told you what you asked. Which one was disabled? <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: Order. <Aphora sucks air through her teeth.> Dr. Okorie: Why is one any worse than the other? Aphora: Because chaos is on the upswing, and without order to counterbalance it… Dr. Okorie: Oh. Well. You don't need to explain that part. We already know. Aphora: You already know? Dr. Okorie: Yeah. The world is falling apart. We've got research teams on the case. Lots of internal publications. Working groups. That sort of thing. We're going to crack it. Aphora: It is going to crack the Earth. Dr. Okorie: Nah. We'll get it sorted. Aphora: You can't stop it. Dr. Okorie: We will. Aphora: You've never stopped it before. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: What's that mean? <Aphora rises to her feet.> Dr. Okorie: Where are you going? Aphora: To see whether what you've told me is true. <Dr. Okorie stands as well.> Dr. Okorie: It is. Aphora: Then I feel very sorry for your friends. Dr. Okorie: And me. Aphora: No, you will be quite safe down here. <Dr. Okorie scoffs.> Dr. Okorie: The end of the world is a pretty superficial thing, huh? Surface level? Aphora: No. Our secrets just happen to be a lot deeper than you realize. Dr. Okorie: I know about the ritual. I suspect I know what it does. I won't be party to it. Let me go. Aphora: No. <Dr. Okorie advances on Aphora, hands raised.> Dr. Okorie: Let me go. <Aphora looks down at Dr. Okorie's hands. She does not appear to be intimidated.> PoI-8141-1, somatic imagery. Aphora: That's your argument? The same demand, twice? At least make a case for yourself. Dr. Okorie: I don't need to convince you. I don't owe you an explanation. You have no right to keep me here. Let. Me. Go. Aphora: I'm a queen. I don't owe you your liberty. It's mine to give or take. <Dr. Okorie's hands clench into fists.> Dr. Okorie: You're not my queen. Aphora: You put yourself in my hands the moment you crossed into our sovereign city. I have a responsibility to your safety now, and I'm going to carry it out to the best of my abilities. Dr. Okorie: I don't want your safety. I want to go back to the real world, with its real problems, so I can help. Aphora: And that's precisely what I can't allow you to do. Dr. Okorie: Why? Aphora: Because you'll fail, and then you'll die. Dr. Okorie: Everything dies. Aphora: We don't. Dr. Okorie: Why? Aphora: Because I don't believe in death. <Silence on recording.> Aphora: I wanted you to believe in me, Kelila, but I need you to survive. Both of you. <Aphora raises her hands, and massive sand simulacra of them rise from the floor to clutch at Dr. Okorie. She swats them away effortlessly, and Aphora gasps.> Dr. Okorie: You really should have tried to get to know me better. Aphora: This pass was foreseen before even I was born! We have always known what lies beyond it! Dr. Okorie: I think we're going to surprise you. Aphora: No, you won't! They'll destroy your Foundation, then destroy your world. Only our city will survive! Dr. Okorie: I don't believe that. <Aphora places her hands over her breast. Her voice is pleading now.> Aphora: It is the memory of our people. It's the way of the universe. My mother, your grandmother, was the last to see it. She brought us here, through the flattening of the earthly plane. She saved us, as her mother did before her, and her mother before. Dr. Okorie: From what? What killed your world? Aphora: It would take a lifetime to tell you everything you don't know. My choices deprived us of that luxury. But you have to understand, this will work. We'll save ourselves. It's what we've always done. Dr. Okorie: Fleeing from the consequences of your actions. Never learning from your mistakes. Aphora: This was not our fault. We were warned, yes, but it still was not our fault. Dr. Okorie: How's that, exactly? Aphora: The legend speaks of that day. It says the sky cracked. It says the sky cracked wide open, and the finger of fate put an end to the ambitions of our forebears. Dr. Okorie: Does it say anything more specific? Provide a translation key for its poetic license? Aphora: Our ancestors were mistrustful of words. Words can be twisted. Words can be stolen. They spoke to posterity with concepts only. Images. Things as precise and unchanging as this city. Dr. Okorie: Vague and veiled, really. Also like this city. <Something appears to snap in Aphora's attitude. She stands to her full height, and raises her hands to match Dr. Okorie's. Her eyes glow brighter than ever before, and the OMNI view occludes in a rapid strobing pattern. Sand falls from the ceiling, to hover at her fingertips.> Aphora: I have had ENOUGH of your childish back-talk! I am the Vitreous Queen— Dr. Okorie: —a woman of broken glass, in a broken city, that broke the world. You will not break me. <She stamps on the floor, and the sand falls the rest of the way. Aphora shudders, and brushes it from her robe and hair. Her eyes are very wide.> Aphora: But the coming sirocco will tear you to pieces. Dr. Okorie: And the only thing you can think of, when confronted with it, is how to save your own skins. It's too hard to handle your responsibilities, so you take off and leave someone else to handle them. Because that's the kind of person you are, Aphora. <Aphora snorts.> Aphora: There it is. The real you. The real problem. Dr. Okorie: You weren't some unwed mother trying to make ends meet. You weren't the victim of an assault. You weren't saddled with a burden you couldn't bear. You played a little game, and then dumped the results on someone else's doorstep. Because you don't want to put in the work. You want other people to do it for you, and then you can take the credit. Your Highness of the Depths. Aphora: I should break you from the inside out. Dr. Okorie: As if you could. Aphora: You're going to test me, child? Really, truly test me? Dr. Okorie: I passed you years ago. You're a parlour magician compared to me. <Dr. Okorie raises her hands above her head. Nothing appears to happen.> Aphora: Don't you dare raise a hand against your mother. <Dr. Okorie closes her eyes.> Dr. Okorie: You've walked away from everything that could have made you more than you are. Every challenge. Every threat. I've made myself more than you'll ever be. My parents, my circumstances, my friends, my enemies have shaped me into something you never could have. What did you expect to teach me here? <Dr. Okorie laughs.> Dr. Okorie: How arrogant you were to think you could. I've learned more in twenty years than you learned in a millennia. Aphora: I am Mistress of the Sands! Dr. Okorie: You're a prop. <Dr. Okorie opens her eyes again. Outside the glass, a trickle of sand begins to fall from the cavern ceiling. Aphora, facing Dr. Okorie, does not notice.> Dr. Okorie: I wondered. I wondered for days how a woman powerful enough to raise that cavern roof could hide in mortal terror from a couple of old men and their cults of personality. And then Sevara showed me, and I understood. Aphora: You know nothing. Dr. Okorie: You weren't that powerful at all. You brought me here so that I would look in awe on everything you had built. Everything you could do. <Dr. Okorie lowers her hands.> Aphora: All about you. Always about you. Selfish brat. Dr. Okorie: You wanted the power of my belief. Because that's still in our blood, isn't it? The power to believe things into being. To make them what we want them to be. You wanted me to believe you were the mighty queen of the mightiest city on Earth, because it's never, ever been true, and you desperately want it to be. Aphora: No. <Dr. Okorie advances on her, arms stretched towards the floor. Outside the glass, the dunes beyond the city walls begin to shift. Aphora, again, does not notice.> Dr. Okorie: With my thaumaturgy and my birthright, you thought my belief might truly make a god out of you. You've tried and failed before. That's what the Bonhomme was, right? You tried to replicate the feats of your ancestors, like the fool you are, and it didn't work. It broke apart, splintered into a thousand disparate gods of the night. I'm not the one who wasn't good enough. It was you. Aphora: No. Dr. Okorie: You didn't raise the roof on your own. The others were propping you up. It was a display, for my benefit. Aphora: No. Dr. Okorie: And the only reason the city's still here is that the rest of them haven't shown up yet. You can't do the ritual without them. I'll bet you would, if you could. Leave them all behind, with the rest of the human chaff. Aphora: N— Dr. Okorie: YES! Yes! I'm not an idiot. I won't overestimate you twice. But you continually underestimate me, and I think it's time you answered for that. Aphora: What position do you think you're in, to teach me a lesson? Dr. Okorie: Exactly the position I need. The middle of your precious hidey-hole. <The glass abruptly shatters.> <Aphora cowers down, just for a moment, then stands up and stares out at the city below. It has begun to shake. The figures on the streets and rooftops, distant specks of light, begin springing for cover.> Aphora: What are you doing?! Dr. Okorie: You cast down your home, Aphora, and lived down to it. It's time for your people to stand and be counted. <Dr. Okorie lifts her hands again. The ground quakes. A dull roar fills the air, rising in pitch and intensity. Sand begins pouring in vast quantities from the cavern ceiling.> Aphora: This is a bluff! You're bluffing. Dr. Okorie: No more heads in the sand. <Aphora raises her own hands again. She clenches and unclenches her fingers, eyes shining so brightly they are almost white. She screams, and stumbles, and the camera view begins to swim as Dr. Okorie is staggered and falls to her knees.> Aphora: STOP! <Chunks of sandstone masonry fall from the ceiling. Aphora bats them away, into the cavern below. She loses her balance again, barely remaining upright. OMNI transmission clarifies as the chamber fills with light from billions of excited granules.> Aphora: STOP! STOP THIS NOW! PoI-8141-1, somatic imagery. <Dr. Okorie raises her voice to compensate for the sound of the entire cavern reorienting itself.> Dr. Okorie: I thought this was what you wanted! <The pillars behind Aphora begin to fall.> Dr. Okorie: I made the city my own! <Aphora stares, eyes widening, then dives for Dr. Okorie. She snatches up the leather satchel which normally contains Dr. Okorie's supply of vim harenae, unlatches it, and turns it upside-down. It is empty.> Dr. Okorie: You really should have given me that tour! <Aphora lunges forward again, and grasps Dr. Okorie around the torso.> Aphora: Please! Please, stop! It takes all of us, every single one of us to manage this! You can't! <Dr. Okorie pulls herself to her feet, and Aphora falls to the floor.> Dr. Okorie: I'm not all of you. <The roof of the cavern splits, and a rain of water and leaves and stone comes pouring in to crash over the roofs and streets of the City of Aph.> Dr. Okorie: I'm better than that. <The city begins to rise.> Dr. Okorie: I'm one of me. <Transmission ends.> The covert Foundation satellite retasked by Dr. Astrauskas captured the following imagery subsequent to the above transmission, which was received at Site-43 in realtime as the City of Aph emerged from a stretch of farmland in Saskatchewan, Canada. Satellite imagery of new Location of Interest, post-emergence. Dr. Okorie's OMNI issued one final, uncorrupted batch of audiovisual data at this time, transcribed below. <Transmission begins.> <Daylight streams in through the shattered window of the Palace of Aph. Through the dust rising up into the sky, a helicopter can be seen on the distant treeline.> <A voice booms out, artificially amplified.> Voice: This is Chief Delfina Ibanez of Mobile Task Force Epsilon-43. The full extent of your city has been targeted by an orbital weapons platform with precision, speed, and wattage sufficient to make you miss your date with the apocalypse, and I have it now on a hair trigger. I would recommend diplomacy! But give me a reason, any reason, and I will glass your sandcastle. <Transmission ends.> Addendum 8141-20, Immediate Aftermath: Addendums 8141-16 and -18 have proven to be inaccurate descriptions of the events of October 13-14. A revised summary of these events is presented below. Chief Ibanez and Dr. Astrauskas each possess an amateur interest in archaeology and geophysics..Geophysics is a field of science dedicated to revealing subterranean structures. Acting on suspicions conveyed to them by Dr. Sokolsky, they employed Foundation satellite imaging to search for any sudden and widespread alterations of greening patterns in farmland and countryside worldwide. The Department of Archaeology's proprietary "Eye of Faith" software swiftly identified the site pictured in Addendum 8141-18, and Dr. Astrauskas requested permission from ETTRA to treat this as the prime candidate for the location of the City of Aph, rather than Dr. Okorie's preferred target. Permission was granted. Dr. Okorie's target was destroyed via orbital laser strike, to preserve the impression of full confidence in her reasoning. Chief Ibanez then ordered Epsilon-43 to Saskatchewan to begin first contact procedures and engage in emergency Veil maintenance, under the guise of examining a potential former site of the supposedly annihilated city. Shortly before their arrival, the city was violently extruded from its subterranean basin beneath a patchwork of canola fields. Immediate Veil maintenance required was minimal, as Dr. Okorie had correctly surmised that the Aphians had purchased the land above their city to keep it free of nonaligned activity, and as redirecting civilian satellites is a routine element of Foundation disinformation efforts. After securing the surrender of the City of Aph, Chief Ibanez radioed Site-43 to order the arrest of the putative Dr. Okorie. This order was carried out by Security and Containment Chief Hachiro Kuroki, with thaumaturgical support from the collective faculty of Applied Occultism. His target surrendered to him without resistance, willingly dropping the memetic glamour on her person once safely in containment. She refused to speak to any member of Site personnel other than the true Dr. Okorie herself. At this time, the lockdown on Area-71 was suddenly released. MTF Nu-7 entered the facility to find its staff now recovering from exposure to a virulent memetic stun agent, and malnutrition/dehydration. The true Dr. Okorie was speedily retrieved from the City of Aph by Chief Ibanez and Dr. Astrauskas. As a garrison force arrived from Site-34 to begin the city's transition into a Location of Interest, Epsilon-43 returned to its home base with all personnel. Subsequent to a full medical checkup and psychological clearance, Dr. Okorie proceeded to her doppelganger's detention cell to begin the intake process. A transcript of their meeting is appended below. Addendum 8141-21, Insurgent Interview: A full transcript of Dr. Okorie's interview with PoI-8141-2, Sevara, is appended below. Intake Interview: PoI-8141-2 Officer of Record: Dr. Udo Okorie (Senior Researcher, Applied Occultism Section, Site-43) <Sevara is sitting at the interrogation table, head turned to one side. Dr. Okorie sits down across from her, drumming the table cheerfully.> Dr. Okorie: Hey, sis. Sevara: I'm not going to answer to that. Dr. Okorie: That's fair. Pretty awkward connection for me to lean on, considering. <Sevara glances at her, and smiles.> PoI-8141-2. Sevara: Well, I mean. I kind of did it myself. Dr. Okorie: You kind of did, eh? <Sevara turns to look directly at Dr. Okorie.> Sevara: You rejected her. Everything she stands for. Everything you are. Is it a punishment? Are you really that petty? Dr. Okorie: A punishment? For what? <Sevara's eyes narrow, the orange glow still bright from the nearly-closed slits.> Sevara: You know. Dr. Okorie: No, I don't. If you're talking about how she left me with two loving parents and stayed out of my life — a life to which she could have added no value at all — and let me alone to become my own person? No. No, I'm not punishing her for that. <Sevara scoffs.> Sevara: Your own person? In the Foundation? You've become a puppet, Udo. Dr. Okorie: And you haven't? How much time did you spend hanging around that death cult, Sevara? Sevara: Just enough to learn what I could from them. Dr. Okorie: Enough to become a geistschreiber. Sevara: I was a quick study. Which was good, because I couldn't hang around for long. Dr. Okorie: Why's that? Sevara: Because I was a quick study. They would have figured out where I was from sooner or later. People like us? We take to that magic like cactus to water. Dr. Okorie: Because it comes from us, in the final analysis. Sevara: That's right. We're born to it. It's part of our birthright. Like the sands. Dr. Okorie: And they wouldn't have been impressed, if they figured out where you were from? Sevara: Not so much. We're all refugees from the same cataclysm, but not from the same… society. Dr. Okorie: Now, I imagine if I press you on this… Sevara: I'll tell you I only know the broad strokes, and you'll have to get your answers elsewhere. Dr. Okorie: No big surprise. <Dr. Okorie sighs.> Dr. Okorie: You never get all the answers in one place. Or from one person. Sevara: How did they find the city, anyway? Dr. Okorie: Eh? Sevara: Your friends. How did they find Aph? Dr. Okorie: Crop marks. Sevara: What? Dr. Okorie: My girlfriends love that shit, and it was on my mind at the time. When we visited the farms, up top? I poured about half of my vim harenae into the aqueducts. While we climbed back down, I ran those grains against the current, back to the source, and split the aquifer. Sevara: I don't… understand. <Dr. Okorie shifts excitedly in her chair.> Dr. Okorie: City that big? That close to the surface, like it was until recently? The walls would have stunted the roots of every plant in a wide radius. You'd see the ghost of their outline in the colour of the crops. So dear old mom sunk the city deeper, and put those hydroponics up there. They were never to feed the city. They were to green up the grass so people wouldn't know where we were. I sucked out the water, dehydrated the foliage, and hey presto. Crop marks. <Silence on recording.> Sevara: That's actually pretty good. Dr. Okorie: Right? <Sevara sighs.> Dr. Okorie: Why did you do what you did, though? What was the point of pretending to be me, and lasering out an empty stretch of desert? Sevara: Not so empty. Aph was there, at one point. It had to be a believable target. There were signs in the sand. Dr. Okorie: Okay, but still. Why? Sevara: Pretending to be you was always my plan. The lasering was… emergent. Dr. Okorie: You wanted the Foundation to think Aph had been destroyed, so we would leave you alone? So the giftschreiber and schriftsteller would, too? Sevara: It was the best I could come up with on the spot. Dr. Okorie: It would have destroyed all life on Earth, you know. The ritual. Sevara: I didn't know that when I was first planning it out. Dr. Okorie: Kind of an important detail. Sevara: I thought so, too. When she told me. Dr. Okorie: She told you? Sevara: Yeah. I hauled you into her tower, told her what you'd been up to. Told her she'd been wrong to try and rely on you. That you'd never fit in. She agreed. Dr. Okorie: I'll bet she did. Sevara: I think she was impressed that I managed to knock you out. She decided to tell me the whole story. What the ritual really was. Dr. Okorie: And? <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: Couldn't go through with it, could you. Sevara: <quietly> It would have made us worse than them. Dr. Okorie: So the lasering wasn't to convince her to leave…? Sevara: No. I was going to convince her to leave by showing how advanced your files were, how no matter where we ran, you'd catch up with us eventually. She'd agree to trigger the ritual, and we'd be free. But that cost… <Sevara shakes her head.> Sevara: So instead, I thought if I could tell her you were capable of locating and destroying the city, she'd consider coming to the table. Just maybe. Dr. Okorie: In other words, I reached you. Sevara: No. In other words, I don't want my mother to have a genocide on her hands. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: Why did you spend so much time digging into my files? You could have gotten that laser cannon fired on day one, made your point and got away without anyone being the wiser. As far as you knew. <Sevara's eyes narrow.> Sevara: I wanted to know what you knew. Our people never interact with the cults; I've been piecing everything together myself, and I hit a brick wall with my… friends, let's call them. So I wanted to see if you were close to finding us, sure, but more importantly, finding a solution. A way out of this mess. Which, well. <Sevara smiles sadly.> Sevara: Bad news. Dr. Okorie: Trust me, it's not news. Sevara: Still, even if I couldn't convince her, I thought we might be able to use what little you had figured out. Next time around. Dr. Okorie: Next time around? <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: We've interrogated a few of them over the years, you know. The various death cultists. Maybe you found that in the files you stole. But they're always talking about how, just before the dust settles, they'll be whisking themselves away to a new world. The same sort of thing Aphora was saying. This has happened before? Sevara: That's a question for your mother. Except, oh. Wait. Dr. Okorie: Well, I do think she'll talk. I don't think we've left her any choice. Sevara: You've doomed them all. We… we've doomed them all. Dr. Okorie: They've doomed us all. But I don't believe in fate. I'm confident that if we all work together, we'll be able to find a way through this. <Sevara smiles.> Sevara: I was right. Dr. Okorie: About? Sevara: You being an idiot. Dr. Okorie: Is that why you thought your little ruse would work? Sevara: Which ruse? Pretending to be you? They fell for it immediately. <Dr. Okorie chuckles.> Dr. Okorie: No, you fell for their act. Remember how you woke up in H&P, dazed and confused? That was the aftereffects of amnestic treatment. Sevara: What? Dr. Okorie: Yeah. You met with Harry, you went back to your room, Harry went to the Director's office, they called in Chief Kuroki from S&C, Harry told them both you weren't me, the Chief detained you, Lillian interrogated you, and Dr. Forsythe amnesticized you. <Sevara recoils.> Sevara: What? That's ridiculous. Your girlfriends weren't here. The aura reader wasn't here! Dr. Okorie: They didn't need to be. You were screwed from the start, which is why you still don't understand. Sevara: You might as well try to explain. Dr. Okorie: My family was here. <Silence on recording.> Sevara: So, what? They just… Let me go on doing what I was doing? Sniffing around? Influencing things? Dr. Okorie: And staging that attack on Area-71. I take it that was your giftschreiber contacts. Sevara: I should get a little credit for telling them not to kill anybody. Dr. Okorie: We'll count that as good behaviour, sure. I saw the transcripts of your consults, by the way. How'd you know to call Harry, Harry? How'd you know to call them Del and Roz? Sevara: You talk in your sleep. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: I wish I hadn't asked. This transcript really won't help get my security credentials back, now. Sevara: But really. Do you seriously expect me to believe the glamour didn't confuse these people? Not even a little? They took me into their confidence. All of them. Dr. Okorie: You don't know what their confidence looks like, because you don't know them. But they know me, and they knew that's who you weren't. They let you see what they wanted you to see, let you think you were influencing things. Because that interrogation didn't go so hot, and they couldn't figure out what you were really after. But we've dealt with spies like you before. Give them a long enough leash, and they'll drag you all the way to their goal, eventually. Sevara: What a stupid gambit. I could have killed them all. <Dr. Okorie laughs.> Sevara: What's so funny? Dr. Okorie: Do you not even know where you are? This is Site-43. We decompose gods. You never stood a chance. <Severa leans forward, elbows on the table, and looks Dr. Okorie directly in the eye.> Sevara: So, is that your big plan? Decompose the gods? Dr. Okorie: You want to know what the plan is? Sevara: Enlighten me. Dr. Okorie: No, seriously. You're interested? Invested, even? Sevara: I'm not signing up, Ke— <Sevara clears her throat.> Sevara: Udo. You might be my sister, but she's still my mother. Dr. Okorie: One empathizes. Sevara: Yeah. I guess you do at that. Dr. Okorie: But I wasn't offering you a job, Sevara. Most people don't end up at the Foundation via insurgency. Sevara: Right, that's how they leave. My mistake. Dr. Okorie: Not the only one you've made. But please, answer the question. Do you care where the story goes from here? Sevara: You've trapped us all on this lump. So yes, I'd love to know how you plan to save it. Dr. Okorie: Terrific. I'll tell them you've accepted. <Sevara frowns.> Sevara: Accepted what? Dr. Okorie: The ambassadorship. Sevara: What are you talking about? Dr. Okorie: As of about an hour ago, your now-shiftless city has been registered as an anomalous free port by the SCP Foundation. Diplomatic relations will open as soon as we confirm with your mother that our chosen representative is acceptable to her. Sevara: Me? She'll never… Dr. Okorie: It was her idea. <Sevara stares at Dr. Okorie.> Sevara: Her idea. Dr. Okorie: Maybe she thinks you need to get out of the house more. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: Which reminds me; I need to call my mother. <Transcript ends.> After a brief consideration period, PoI-8141-2 accepted the nomination. Addendum 8141-22, Reclassifications: In light of the above events, Dr. Okorie's Type Blue classification has been raised from Class-3 ("Magus") to Class-4 ("Archmagus"). As her actions regarding Provisional Free Port-09 have resulted in numerous Foundation commendations, and her loyalty to its organizational principles is beyond question, her Threat Level remains at Rank-4, and her Level-4 security clearance level and post as Chief of Applied Occultism have been restored. Dr. Astrauskas has inaugurated a new study into the single unexplained element in Dr. Okorie's field emanations, potentially necessitating further reclassification of the nature of SCP-8141. A transcript of her tentative findings, as presented to Dr. Okorie and Chief Ibanez, is appended below. <Transcript begins.> <Dr. Okorie, Dr. Astrauskas and Chief Ibanez are sitting in the Applied Occultism Section personnel lounge, the former in an armchair, the latter two on a couch facing her.> Dr. Astrauskas' file photo. Dr. Astrauskas: I figured out what the corona is. In Udo's aura. Dr. Okorie: Go on. Dr. Astrauskas: It's Akiva energy..Akiva energy is the residuum of theological activity. <Dr. Okorie's eyes widen.> Dr. Okorie: What? <Chief Ibanez stares at Dr. Astrauskas.> Chief Ibanez's file photo. Chief Ibanez: She's a goddess? Dr. Okorie: I'm not a goddess. <Chief Ibanez stares at Dr. Okorie.> Dr. Okorie: I'm not a goddess! Chief Ibanez: Yeah, I'm the leader of this trifecta. But you can't say Roz doesn't worship you. <Dr. Okorie sighs nervously.> Dr. Okorie: You're making jokes about this. Chief Ibanez: I recover fast. One of us has to. Roz, what does the Akiva mean? Dr. Astrauskas: I do have a theory, actually. Your Talent, Udo. Dr. Okorie: Yeah? Dr. Astrauskas: It manifested very early. Prepubescent sorceresses aren't really a thing. Reality benders? Sure. But not thaumaturges. Except for you. Dr. Okorie: So? Dr. Astrauskas: So, your affinity with the sand might not have anything to do with the luck of the draw, but it also might not strictly be hereditary either. Your mom never explained why you've all got sand powers— Dr. Okorie: It's not just sand powers. Dr. Astrauskas: It is for them, as far as non-ontikinetic abilities go. You're special, because you're biologically related to a real Type Blue and you were raised by two of them. That's probably why you can expand to other granular things, even things that are only conceptually granular. They can't. They're just sand. Dr. Okorie: Right. Why? Dr. Astrauskas: They're just sand. Dr. Okorie: You said that. <Dr. Okorie's eyes widen further.> Dr. Okorie: Oh, wait. No. Chief Ibanez: What? Dr. Okorie: She's not saying… Dr. Astrauskas: How did they make those gods, again? What did you think your mother wanted you for, again? Dr. Okorie: They personified universal forces. They powered-up on belief. Oh, Roz, this is insane. Dr. Astrauskas: One of us is going to have to say it out loud. Chief Ibanez: Might as well be her. It's her people. Dr. Okorie: They're not my people. But… okay. Are you saying… you are. <Dr. Astrauskas is nodding.> Dr. Okorie: You're saying they made themselves the personifications of sand. Dr. Astrauskas: Yes. Chief Ibanez: The goddesses of sand. Dr. Astrauskas: Yes. Dr. Okorie: We're… thoughtforms, sort of. Self-imagined. Dr. Astrauskas: Think of it more like… thoughtformalwear. Dr. Okorie: That's why they're immortal. That's… she said she doesn't believe in death, oh, my god. Oh my god. <Chief Ibanez makes a mock praying gesture in her direction.> Chief Ibanez: My goddess. Dr. Okorie: This… is… a lot. <Silence on recording.> Dr. Okorie: Hmm. Dr. Astrauskas: What? Dr. Okorie: She expected me to follow in her footsteps. Be a second edition of her. And it wasn't just in my genetics, you're saying… it was written into the universe. Reality was designed for me to fit into it in a very specific way. Dr. Astrauskas: And you didn't. Dr. Okorie: And I didn't. Chief Ibanez: Because you didn't want to. Dr. Okorie: Because my parents raised me better. Nurture over nature. Dr. Astrauskas: It wasn't just them. It was you, too. Dr. Okorie: It can't be innate, though. That sort of reality bending. It has to be something you learn, or else I would have been altering my surroundings all this time. All these years. Dr. Astrauskas: I think that's correct. The reason I never noticed the corona until now, unless I'm badly mistaken, is that it didn't exist until now. It started when your mother told the other Aphians you were coming. She was trying to make them believe in you. Chief Ibanez: I'll fucking bet they believe in you now. Dr. Astrauskas: Yeah. Yeah, you're probably… Dr. Okorie: Pretty dangerous, now. Chief Ibanez: You were plenty dangerous before. One of your best qualities. Dr. Okorie: But the stuff I did before that? The stuff I've done with my Talent? Dr. Astrauskas: That was all you. Dr. Okorie: You're sure? Dr. Astrauskas: We can never be sure, but it's the only thing that makes sense. The slow aging, that's something they did to everyone carrying their genes. But I don't think they gave you superpowers, if that's what you're worried about. Chief Ibanez: Not until yesterday, at least. Dr. Okorie: Mmm. I dunno. Dr. Astrauskas: Well, I do. Back me up, Del. Chief Ibanez: Sure. Besides the sand thing, I'd say you've got one thing in common with the Aphians, Udo. Nothing more, nothing less. Dr. Okorie: What's that? Chief Ibanez: You're self-made. <Transcript ends.> In light of the above, Dr. Okorie's SCP object containment class, Special Containment Procedures, and Threat Level are undergoing ETTRA review in tandem with this file's comprehensive overhaul. Addendum 8141-23, Future Study: Though diplomatic relations with PFP-09 are only tentative at this time, a small group of Foundation researchers has been permitted to operate an Advance Research Facility within the walls of the City of Aph, in return for aid in obscuring its location and assisting with excavation and repairs after its explosive exit from the earth. PoI-8141-1, the Vitreous Queen of Aph, has assured the Department of Tactical Theology that the ritual chamber and the materials required to complete the thaumaturgical working severing the city from baseline reality, and collapsing the latter, were completely destroyed in the transition. Dr. Okorie has confirmed that this was her intention. To date, two notable discoveries have been made at the Advance Research Facility. First, it has been determined through paracarbon dating of residual plant fibers that PFP-09's structures vary wildly in age, from five hundred years to upwards of four thousand. Some structures cannot be dated at all, even with the application of paratechnological measures. These discrepancies have not yet been explained, and PoI-8141-1 has been unforthcoming on the matter. She has, however, agreed to discuss the circumstances of her city's departure from its reality of origin with Protocol GYRUS personnel at a later date. Second, the mural identified by Dr. Okorie has now been examined under better lighting conditions, and photographed non-somatically. As suspected, it depicts six figures gesturing to a larger, bifurcated figure, flanked by representations of the sun and the moon. Parietal art within PFP-09. This closer analysis revealed faint pigmentation running through the image, originating at the bottom edge and bisecting the central figure. Somatically-enhanced photoacoustic imaging was employed to reveal the missing information, reconstructed below. Parietal art within PFP-09, enhanced. The implications of this additional iconography remain unknown at present. « SCP-8056 | Words of Power and Poison | TBA » ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8141" by HarryBlank, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8141. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: Aph.jpg Author: Marie & Julien, newpalmyra, Logan Scholfield, Brian Smithson, HarryBlank License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source: Indicated below. 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SCP-8142 | safe | Therapy chimera mass hysteria keeps making employees too happy to work. Item#: 8142 Level2 Secondary Class: endeminis Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: caution link to memo Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8142 exclusively affects SCP Foundation employees and thus requires no containment. If an employee experiences an encounter with SCP-8142, they are required to report it to their Site Director as soon as possible. Site-17 hall during an SCP-8142 encounter. Description: SCP-8142 is a phenomenon affecting SCP Foundation staff. Those believed to be targeted by SCP-8142 report vivid dreams for up to a week before they encounter it. Encounters vary between individuals, but typically involve the subject waking up in the middle of the night. They are often transported to a secondary location, creating a scene of warped reality often described as "dream-like". Finally, the individual will engage in a conversation with a figure resembling a Chimera1 and the subject will return to where they originally fell asleep. After this encounter, subjects report feeling generally happier. There are no observed neurological changes within subjects after an SCP-8142 encounter and no memetic or cognitohazardous influence has been detected. Various tests have been performed on SCP-8142 to determine its nature. Thus far, results show that it is not physical, psychological, spiritual, extradimensional, metaphysical, pataphysical or essophysical. Likewise, it is currently unknown why SCP-8142 specifically targets Foundation staff. Research into SCP-8142 is currently ongoing. Addendum 8142.1: Log of notable SCP-8142 encounters. Personnel Name and Position Event Summary Notes Leonard Buchanan, recent hire for the Cryptozoology Division. Following an incident in his second week of training that resulted in minor property damage, Buchanon was seen flying out of his accommodation that night. He arrived at a zoo holding various low-clearance objects contained at Site-44. He made time to carefully read the information signs for each enclosure despite their illegible writing. Gradually, the walls of the zoo lowered and all the animals within began walking towards Buchanon in a single file line and they thanked him individually. Finally, a goat and a lion, tied together by a long snake told him that he was doing very well. Buchanon petted it and returned to his accommodation. After this event, Buchanon completed his training and began working as a junior researcher studying SCP-7088. Agent Aiden Hale, MTF Delta-14 "Winter Wonderland". At 2:43 am, Agent Hale exited their quarters and began wandering the halls of Site-43. Snow began falling from the ceiling of the site, obscuring their vision. As they searched around for the door, several frozen corpses began rising from under the snow, and Agent Hale tried to re-bury them with little success. Eventually, the snowfall turned into a blizzard and they were submerged. They fell into a log cabin, and a maned mountain goat with a snake in place of a tail emerged from the fireplace. It discussed the state of global warming and different flavours of ice cream with Agent Hale for 32 minutes, at which point they left the cabin and emerged back at their quarters where they fell asleep. The next morning, a draft for a retirement letter was found in Agent Hale's private computer. Administration declared they attend mandatory therapy sessions specializing in compartmentalisation. Theodore Victor, Senior Researcher at the Department of Tactical Theology. As Victor was leaving for the night, a beam of light shone down on him and he levitated into a large brass bell that rang once he was inside. The vibrations caused a green humanoid baby with three heads resembling SCP-9328 to form, it was connected to dozens of various hoses and its abdomen was open. Its feline head told Victor it was meant to be there, the same way he was meant to kill it. The baby prayed to him, asking him why it had to die. Victor told it he never knew, not even now. He shattered into a fine dust that re-constituted inside his car. The next day, Victor handed in a resignation letter. He is considered a vital member of his team, per standard procedure, the letter was declined and negotiations have begun to ensure his continued cooperation. Following reports from his on-site therapist, Victor was amnesticized of his incident during his time as junior staff. Dr. Clark, lead supervisor for procedure 110-Montauk. At 4:12 am, Dr. Clark was seen outside Site-19 on an overgrown cloud atop a hospital bed surrounded by infant humans. They ran around her for approximately 20 minutes before she exited through a gateway made of roses. She was seen hugging a goat, a snake, and a lion before demanifesting and reappearing in her office. Following this encounter, Dr. Clark requested Class A amnestics and a transfer to the Department of Parabotany. She was amnesticized of all her prior experience there, per her request. However, to ensure the continued effectiveness of procedure 110-Montauk, SECOND FIRST DAY protocol was enacted and Clark was re-instated as lead supervisor. FIRE SUPPRESSION DEPARTMENT EMERGENCY CASE ID-8142 ISSUE: Due to the influence of SCP-8142, employee efficiency has decreased significantly. Requests to transfer to assignments deemed sub-optimal for productivity have increased, along with attempts to resign. KNOWLEDGE: Individuals having had an experience with SCP-8142 have proven not to be under any anomalous influence. Proportionally, lower-ranking Foundation Employees have reported encounters; typically janitors or other staff assigned to unskilled labour. The rate of encounters has remained stable at 5-10 per day since the first report on 14/11/2025. A way to prevent these encounters has not yet been discovered. RECOMMENDED PROCEDURE: Recreational break time has been increased from 15 minutes to 17 minutes to improve staff morale, additionally, Foundation insurance is now mandatory and employees are restricted from applying to third-party insurance providers. High-risk personnel2 are being closely monitored and employment efforts are being made to replace previous staff. The O5 council has approved an increase in the Fire Suppression Department's budget which is being used to fund additional surveillance and reinforcement. NOTES: Greetings, team. I understand that this is an exceptional case, but remember: It is a fire like any other and it must be put out. — Gertrude Turner, Director, FSD. Addendum 8142.2: Record of dream. Date: 14/09/2026 Foreword: The following footage was recorded directly from Gertrude Turner's mind via the use of experimental anomalous technology that was given to all essential employees in anticipation of another encounter with SCP-8142. [BEGIN LOG] Gertrude is in her new office, boxes filled with equipment and paperwork are littering the floor. It is completely dark beside her laptop displaying the planned proposal to restructure the Fire Suppression Department, her typing gradually slows and she falls asleep in her chair. The door cracks open and Jean Grant, her assistant, enters. Grant: Ma'am, you've got a… Sighs. Grant: Long night, huh? Suppose I better get going too. Grant takes Gertrude's coat from the rack and gently covers her with it and leaves the room, quietly closing the door behind him. Gertrude stirs in her sleep. The boxes and furniture inexplicably move to the sides of the room, forming a clear path from the chair to the door. She rubs her eyes and stands up, the jacket already on the floor. She takes her firearm and hesitantly sneaks out of the office. It is filled with many more pictures of herself: selfies of hiking trips in photo holders, framed portraits, posters, and polaroids stuck directly onto the wall. Gertrude does her best not to look at any of them. She doesn't have time. Swallowing her curiosity, she reaches to open the door, it simply falls back flat like a domino. Gertrude: Oh. Fuck. The stark halls outside have contorted, they are longer, and curved, twisting into rectangular-shaped tunnels. Gertrude looks at the paintbrush in her hand. It must be from the painting that isn't on the wall. It won't be, she decides, and discards it. She proceeds forward, up, and around the tunnels until the walls open and melt away. It is an office cubicle now. Her first one, the SCP emblem adorns the wall and chattering voices overlap around her. Pillars of blood seem to extend into a ceiling that never arrives. Gertrude stops completely and holsters her gun in her trousers, unlike the first time, she's not excited. Gertrude sees the building for what it is: a prison. Jr. Researcher Victor: Turner! Hi! We were in orientation together, remember me? Gertrude: You should never have spoken to me. I just wanted to help you. But she makes no sound, Gertrude reflexively smiles. Jr. Researcher Victor: Alright if I dump something on you? Gertrude can not respond. Jr. Researcher Victor: This… job. It's not what I thought it was. Gertrude can not respond. Jr. Researcher Victor: I couldn't do it. My boss told me to… Victor trails off. Gertrude can not respond. Jr. Researcher Victor: And… and it looked at me, it was alive. Gertrude can not help. Jr. Researcher Turner: That's terrible. How could anyone have known? Jr. Researcher Victor: They should have! Gertrude can not agree. Jr. Researcher Turner: Come on. There's no way they would make you do something like that if they didn't know. It won't happen again. It does. Jr. Researcher Turner: We're still learning, but it's valuable work. Just keep at it. Jr. Researcher Victor: Maybe you're right. I'm sure they have my best interests at heart. Before Gertrude gets a chance to refute this, she falls through the chair. As she continues to fall, the silhouettes of the O5 council rise, her knees buckle and she collapses onto the ground. Although their mouths aren't visible, Gertrude can see them move and feels them exhale, but she doesn't remember what they said. Behind her, another Turner rises to meet them. Researcher Turner: I understand that it may be uncomfortable, but without you, it would fall apart. Sometimes you need to hold your nose and close your eyes before taking a step forward, and that's all I'm asking of you. The figure in front of her flashes between a multitude of people, she recognizes them all: the ones she damned. The air breaks away and Gertrude is left back in her office, the faces continue to change, but manually as she flips their pages, just like she did long ago. Victor is in there. His best interests were not at heart. Each page she flips feels heavier, but she only stops when she reaches an all too familiar file. It's her own. SUBJECT: Director Gertrude Turner HAZARD: Subject lacks motivation, they seem hesitant to make the best decision for the Foundation. PROPOSAL: Create a common Fire Suppression Department file so that the subject, you, knows their family is concerned for them. RESULT: PENDING The file destroys the door, and Gertrude passes out. [END LOG] Closing statement: I'm not exactly sure what this was, I don't want to this situation needs to be resolved ASAP.- Director Turner. Addendum 8142.3: Resignation of O5-6. Dear Council, I understand how this must look like, you all must resent me now. Rest easy, nothing was harmed and I made sure to tie up any loose ends before I left. At this very moment, I am as replaceable as ever. Consider it a parting gift. Please don't think I've been compromised, this has been coming for a long time, even if I didn't know it. SCP-8142 visited me two weeks ago, I fell into the opposite of a dream- a reality and saw my life from the top down. Do you know how much we've helped the world? Hell, go and take a look at the statistics yourself. The greater good we keep telling ourselves, it could be real. You've all earned some pride in what you do. I am eternally grateful for everything, but I just can't stay here any longer. After all the lives we saved, I need to live. Call it selfish, call it reckless, call it whatever; you all feel the same way. I've sacrificed almost all of myself for this organization over two hundred years, and there's still a tiny bit remaining and I believe I've earned the right to give that tiny part the luxury of dying in the light for once. I'll miss you all. Love, Claire Burners, former O5 Council. On 20/08/2023 at 5:21 pm, this letter was found on the O5 Council meeting room table. Security camera footage shows that this was the last sighting of O5-6 who was believed to have left directly after. Currently, no sign or evidence of O5-6's whereabouts has been discovered, and they have been classified as retired. This event marks an indicator that the SCP-8142 situation is developing and has been considered an emergency. To replace O5-6, Gertrude Turner, previous head of the Fire Suppresion Department, was given an impromptu promotion to O5. DOCUMENT-FSD-8142 < Previous | Page 106 | Next > SUBJECT: Archivist James Rayner HAZARD: Following an encounter with SCP-8142, the subject has begun using old case files to create papier-mâché sculptures in their downtime. PROPOSAL: Begin supplying the subject with repeat or "mistake" documents. Supervisors are instructed to enforce policy and deny the existence of redundant files. RESULT: SUCCESS SUBJECT: Janitor Leroy White HAZARD: Following an encounter with SCP-8142, the subject rallied other janitors in Site-19 and started a strike. PROPOSAL: Subject was discretely given benefits above their demands and ordered to call off the strike. RESULT: SUCCESS SUBJECT: Senior Researcher Amanda Parker HAZARD: Following an encounter with SCP-8142, the subject has attempted to hand in a 2-week notice. PROPOSAL: The subject's resignation has been declined and they have been offered greater benefits. Following their refusal, the subject was assigned to monitor SCP-3199 and told that there was no replacement and that their absence would result in a containment breach. RESULT: SUCCESS SUBJECT: D-28935798 HAZARD: Following an encounter with SCP-8142, the subject rallied other D-class and attempted a mass escape. PROPOSAL: The group managed to escape D-class holding cells but were eventually intercepted by on-site MTFs. Cooperative escapees were given active duty with SCP-131. The rest were promised the same but were later terminated per standard protocol. RESULT: SUCCESS SUBJECT: Doctor Aleisha Carol HAZARD: Following an encounter with SCP-8142 shortly after a family emergency, the subject requested to take active leave to take care of their wife in the hospital. PROPOSAL: Subject was administered class-C amnestics to erase all memory of their wife. RESULT: SUCCESS Addendum 8142.4: Interview with SCP-8142. Date: 02/10/2026 Foreword: The following footage was recorded directly from O5-6, Gertrude Turner's mind. [BEGIN LOG] Following a long day handling employee crises, Gertrude Turner left Site-17 to take a walk in the surrounding area. After 12 minutes, she stops to smoke a cigarette under a tree and turns to look at the site. It has vanished. The scenery around her warps, appearing to be composed of strokes of paint. She flicks the cigarette away. The branches of the tree she is standing under shake and curl back into a mane, revealing a lion's head, and its vines become a snake. The entity moves to face Gertrude and it sits down, turning to make its additional goat's head visible. SCP-8142: [Lion head speaking] You aren't a job that needs finishing. SCP-8142: [Snake head speaking] You needed more time. Gertrude shakes, but recomposes herself and sits down. Gertrude: Am I (pauses) the reason you're doing this? SCP-8142: [Goat head speaking] Is fire the reason it rains? No. The clouds condense because they can no longer remain vapour. Gertrude takes another drag of her cigarette and holds it out for SCP-8142, it swallows it. Gertrude: You're the cloud? SCP-8142: [Snake head speaking] The rain. Skies always clear, but it is hard to stay dry. Why not come outside? Gertrude: Fire suppression… Heh. SCP-8142: [Lion head speaking] Are you scared? Gertrude leans back against SCP-8142 and remains silent for a few moments. Gertrude: I'm possibly the only one who can't quit. You know, despite everything we're allowed to get away with, if someone genuinely threatens suicide we have to let them go. There's only so much the Ethics Committee will overlook. Me though? My connection with the outside world was cut off- not that it matters much- and I'm the FSD director and O5. I know too much and I've made myself too essential. If I quit they'd either do anything to get me back or they'd just kill me. SCP-8142: [Snake head speaking] Claire quit. Gertrude: She just ran off. I can't run. I can't fight either. SCP-8142: [Goat head speaking] You cannot run or fight. Gertrude: … SCP-8142: [All heads speaking] Walk with me. The two stand and climb through the painted scenery. It tears open and they emerge in Site-17, where they begin slowly walking through the hall. SCP-8142: Drops reaching the pond. The halls are alive, the walls melt away and Gertrude can look inside. Pumping veins connect the countless hearts working within. Old jail bars exist but this prison no longer holds inmates. Gertrude: It's all so colourful. (Pauses) I was supposed to know. She melts into a puddle. SCP-8142: How could you know? It was convenient for you. Gertrude: Even my department? Are they stuck like I am? SCP-8142 gestures and she looks into her own hands, the architecture is familiar. Gertrude begins tearing up. SCP-8142: The rain is over. Gertrude: You must hate me. SCP-8142: You are the last drop. I love you. They embrace, and remain that way for several minutes. After, SCP-8142 gives Gertrude a brush and the two paint the wall. [END LOG] Closing statement: Just like I used to. Wall of hall 2A, wing C of Site-17. Footnotes 1. A fire-breathing monster from Greek mythology depicted as a lion with a goat head protruding from its torso, and a tail ending with a snake's head. 2. Designated as staff with clearance level 2 or below displaying symptoms of discontent. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8142" by Anky swallow, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8142. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: LOWER LEVEL INTERIOR HALLWAY. LOOKING NORTHEAST. - Fairchild Air Force Base, Bomber Alert Facility, 803G South Taxi Way, Spokane, Spokane County, WA HAER WASH,32-SPOK.V,1B-12.tif Author: McKenny, Pamela License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:LOWER_LEVEL_INTERIOR_HALLWAY._LOOKING_NORTHEAST._-_Fairchild_Air_Force_Base,_Bomber_Alert_Facility,_803G_South_Taxi_Way,_Spokane,_Spokane_County,_WA_HAER_WASH,32-SPOK.V,1B-12.tif Filename: Aurora-borealis andoya.jpg Author: M.Buschmann License: CC-BY-3.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Aurora-borealis_andoya.jpg Filename: 2019-03-03 Chinstrap penguin on Barrientos Island, Antarctica.jpg Author: Gordon Leggett License: CC-BY-SA-4.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:2019-03-03_Chinstrap_penguin_on_Barrientos_Island,_Antarctica.jpg Filename: Concrete floor 03 rough 16k (Matterfield and Rob Tuytel via Poly Haven).png Author: Matterfield License: CC0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Concrete_floor_03_rough_16k_(Matterfield_and_Rob_Tuytel_via_Poly_Haven).png |
SCP-8142 | uncontained | Therapy chimera mass hysteria keeps making employees too happy to work. Item#: 8142 Level2 Secondary Class: endeminis Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: caution link to memo Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8142 exclusively affects SCP Foundation employees and thus requires no containment. If an employee experiences an encounter with SCP-8142, they are required to report it to their Site Director as soon as possible. Site-17 hall during an SCP-8142 encounter. Description: SCP-8142 is a phenomenon affecting SCP Foundation staff. Those believed to be targeted by SCP-8142 report vivid dreams for up to a week before they encounter it. Encounters vary between individuals, but typically involve the subject waking up in the middle of the night. They are often transported to a secondary location, creating a scene of warped reality often described as "dream-like". Finally, the individual will engage in a conversation with a figure resembling a Chimera1 and the subject will return to where they originally fell asleep. After this encounter, subjects report feeling generally happier. There are no observed neurological changes within subjects after an SCP-8142 encounter and no memetic or cognitohazardous influence has been detected. Various tests have been performed on SCP-8142 to determine its nature. Thus far, results show that it is not physical, psychological, spiritual, extradimensional, metaphysical, pataphysical or essophysical. Likewise, it is currently unknown why SCP-8142 specifically targets Foundation staff. Research into SCP-8142 is currently ongoing. Addendum 8142.1: Log of notable SCP-8142 encounters. Personnel Name and Position Event Summary Notes Leonard Buchanan, recent hire for the Cryptozoology Division. Following an incident in his second week of training that resulted in minor property damage, Buchanon was seen flying out of his accommodation that night. He arrived at a zoo holding various low-clearance objects contained at Site-44. He made time to carefully read the information signs for each enclosure despite their illegible writing. Gradually, the walls of the zoo lowered and all the animals within began walking towards Buchanon in a single file line and they thanked him individually. Finally, a goat and a lion, tied together by a long snake told him that he was doing very well. Buchanon petted it and returned to his accommodation. After this event, Buchanon completed his training and began working as a junior researcher studying SCP-7088. Agent Aiden Hale, MTF Delta-14 "Winter Wonderland". At 2:43 am, Agent Hale exited their quarters and began wandering the halls of Site-43. Snow began falling from the ceiling of the site, obscuring their vision. As they searched around for the door, several frozen corpses began rising from under the snow, and Agent Hale tried to re-bury them with little success. Eventually, the snowfall turned into a blizzard and they were submerged. They fell into a log cabin, and a maned mountain goat with a snake in place of a tail emerged from the fireplace. It discussed the state of global warming and different flavours of ice cream with Agent Hale for 32 minutes, at which point they left the cabin and emerged back at their quarters where they fell asleep. The next morning, a draft for a retirement letter was found in Agent Hale's private computer. Administration declared they attend mandatory therapy sessions specializing in compartmentalisation. Theodore Victor, Senior Researcher at the Department of Tactical Theology. As Victor was leaving for the night, a beam of light shone down on him and he levitated into a large brass bell that rang once he was inside. The vibrations caused a green humanoid baby with three heads resembling SCP-9328 to form, it was connected to dozens of various hoses and its abdomen was open. Its feline head told Victor it was meant to be there, the same way he was meant to kill it. The baby prayed to him, asking him why it had to die. Victor told it he never knew, not even now. He shattered into a fine dust that re-constituted inside his car. The next day, Victor handed in a resignation letter. He is considered a vital member of his team, per standard procedure, the letter was declined and negotiations have begun to ensure his continued cooperation. Following reports from his on-site therapist, Victor was amnesticized of his incident during his time as junior staff. Dr. Clark, lead supervisor for procedure 110-Montauk. At 4:12 am, Dr. Clark was seen outside Site-19 on an overgrown cloud atop a hospital bed surrounded by infant humans. They ran around her for approximately 20 minutes before she exited through a gateway made of roses. She was seen hugging a goat, a snake, and a lion before demanifesting and reappearing in her office. Following this encounter, Dr. Clark requested Class A amnestics and a transfer to the Department of Parabotany. She was amnesticized of all her prior experience there, per her request. However, to ensure the continued effectiveness of procedure 110-Montauk, SECOND FIRST DAY protocol was enacted and Clark was re-instated as lead supervisor. FIRE SUPPRESSION DEPARTMENT EMERGENCY CASE ID-8142 ISSUE: Due to the influence of SCP-8142, employee efficiency has decreased significantly. Requests to transfer to assignments deemed sub-optimal for productivity have increased, along with attempts to resign. KNOWLEDGE: Individuals having had an experience with SCP-8142 have proven not to be under any anomalous influence. Proportionally, lower-ranking Foundation Employees have reported encounters; typically janitors or other staff assigned to unskilled labour. The rate of encounters has remained stable at 5-10 per day since the first report on 14/11/2025. A way to prevent these encounters has not yet been discovered. RECOMMENDED PROCEDURE: Recreational break time has been increased from 15 minutes to 17 minutes to improve staff morale, additionally, Foundation insurance is now mandatory and employees are restricted from applying to third-party insurance providers. High-risk personnel2 are being closely monitored and employment efforts are being made to replace previous staff. The O5 council has approved an increase in the Fire Suppression Department's budget which is being used to fund additional surveillance and reinforcement. NOTES: Greetings, team. I understand that this is an exceptional case, but remember: It is a fire like any other and it must be put out. — Gertrude Turner, Director, FSD. Addendum 8142.2: Record of dream. Date: 14/09/2026 Foreword: The following footage was recorded directly from Gertrude Turner's mind via the use of experimental anomalous technology that was given to all essential employees in anticipation of another encounter with SCP-8142. [BEGIN LOG] Gertrude is in her new office, boxes filled with equipment and paperwork are littering the floor. It is completely dark beside her laptop displaying the planned proposal to restructure the Fire Suppression Department, her typing gradually slows and she falls asleep in her chair. The door cracks open and Jean Grant, her assistant, enters. Grant: Ma'am, you've got a… Sighs. Grant: Long night, huh? Suppose I better get going too. Grant takes Gertrude's coat from the rack and gently covers her with it and leaves the room, quietly closing the door behind him. Gertrude stirs in her sleep. The boxes and furniture inexplicably move to the sides of the room, forming a clear path from the chair to the door. She rubs her eyes and stands up, the jacket already on the floor. She takes her firearm and hesitantly sneaks out of the office. It is filled with many more pictures of herself: selfies of hiking trips in photo holders, framed portraits, posters, and polaroids stuck directly onto the wall. Gertrude does her best not to look at any of them. She doesn't have time. Swallowing her curiosity, she reaches to open the door, it simply falls back flat like a domino. Gertrude: Oh. Fuck. The stark halls outside have contorted, they are longer, and curved, twisting into rectangular-shaped tunnels. Gertrude looks at the paintbrush in her hand. It must be from the painting that isn't on the wall. It won't be, she decides, and discards it. She proceeds forward, up, and around the tunnels until the walls open and melt away. It is an office cubicle now. Her first one, the SCP emblem adorns the wall and chattering voices overlap around her. Pillars of blood seem to extend into a ceiling that never arrives. Gertrude stops completely and holsters her gun in her trousers, unlike the first time, she's not excited. Gertrude sees the building for what it is: a prison. Jr. Researcher Victor: Turner! Hi! We were in orientation together, remember me? Gertrude: You should never have spoken to me. I just wanted to help you. But she makes no sound, Gertrude reflexively smiles. Jr. Researcher Victor: Alright if I dump something on you? Gertrude can not respond. Jr. Researcher Victor: This… job. It's not what I thought it was. Gertrude can not respond. Jr. Researcher Victor: I couldn't do it. My boss told me to… Victor trails off. Gertrude can not respond. Jr. Researcher Victor: And… and it looked at me, it was alive. Gertrude can not help. Jr. Researcher Turner: That's terrible. How could anyone have known? Jr. Researcher Victor: They should have! Gertrude can not agree. Jr. Researcher Turner: Come on. There's no way they would make you do something like that if they didn't know. It won't happen again. It does. Jr. Researcher Turner: We're still learning, but it's valuable work. Just keep at it. Jr. Researcher Victor: Maybe you're right. I'm sure they have my best interests at heart. Before Gertrude gets a chance to refute this, she falls through the chair. As she continues to fall, the silhouettes of the O5 council rise, her knees buckle and she collapses onto the ground. Although their mouths aren't visible, Gertrude can see them move and feels them exhale, but she doesn't remember what they said. Behind her, another Turner rises to meet them. Researcher Turner: I understand that it may be uncomfortable, but without you, it would fall apart. Sometimes you need to hold your nose and close your eyes before taking a step forward, and that's all I'm asking of you. The figure in front of her flashes between a multitude of people, she recognizes them all: the ones she damned. The air breaks away and Gertrude is left back in her office, the faces continue to change, but manually as she flips their pages, just like she did long ago. Victor is in there. His best interests were not at heart. Each page she flips feels heavier, but she only stops when she reaches an all too familiar file. It's her own. SUBJECT: Director Gertrude Turner HAZARD: Subject lacks motivation, they seem hesitant to make the best decision for the Foundation. PROPOSAL: Create a common Fire Suppression Department file so that the subject, you, knows their family is concerned for them. RESULT: PENDING The file destroys the door, and Gertrude passes out. [END LOG] Closing statement: I'm not exactly sure what this was, I don't want to this situation needs to be resolved ASAP.- Director Turner. Addendum 8142.3: Resignation of O5-6. Dear Council, I understand how this must look like, you all must resent me now. Rest easy, nothing was harmed and I made sure to tie up any loose ends before I left. At this very moment, I am as replaceable as ever. Consider it a parting gift. Please don't think I've been compromised, this has been coming for a long time, even if I didn't know it. SCP-8142 visited me two weeks ago, I fell into the opposite of a dream- a reality and saw my life from the top down. Do you know how much we've helped the world? Hell, go and take a look at the statistics yourself. The greater good we keep telling ourselves, it could be real. You've all earned some pride in what you do. I am eternally grateful for everything, but I just can't stay here any longer. After all the lives we saved, I need to live. Call it selfish, call it reckless, call it whatever; you all feel the same way. I've sacrificed almost all of myself for this organization over two hundred years, and there's still a tiny bit remaining and I believe I've earned the right to give that tiny part the luxury of dying in the light for once. I'll miss you all. Love, Claire Burners, former O5 Council. On 20/08/2023 at 5:21 pm, this letter was found on the O5 Council meeting room table. Security camera footage shows that this was the last sighting of O5-6 who was believed to have left directly after. Currently, no sign or evidence of O5-6's whereabouts has been discovered, and they have been classified as retired. This event marks an indicator that the SCP-8142 situation is developing and has been considered an emergency. To replace O5-6, Gertrude Turner, previous head of the Fire Suppresion Department, was given an impromptu promotion to O5. DOCUMENT-FSD-8142 < Previous | Page 106 | Next > SUBJECT: Archivist James Rayner HAZARD: Following an encounter with SCP-8142, the subject has begun using old case files to create papier-mâché sculptures in their downtime. PROPOSAL: Begin supplying the subject with repeat or "mistake" documents. Supervisors are instructed to enforce policy and deny the existence of redundant files. RESULT: SUCCESS SUBJECT: Janitor Leroy White HAZARD: Following an encounter with SCP-8142, the subject rallied other janitors in Site-19 and started a strike. PROPOSAL: Subject was discretely given benefits above their demands and ordered to call off the strike. RESULT: SUCCESS SUBJECT: Senior Researcher Amanda Parker HAZARD: Following an encounter with SCP-8142, the subject has attempted to hand in a 2-week notice. PROPOSAL: The subject's resignation has been declined and they have been offered greater benefits. Following their refusal, the subject was assigned to monitor SCP-3199 and told that there was no replacement and that their absence would result in a containment breach. RESULT: SUCCESS SUBJECT: D-28935798 HAZARD: Following an encounter with SCP-8142, the subject rallied other D-class and attempted a mass escape. PROPOSAL: The group managed to escape D-class holding cells but were eventually intercepted by on-site MTFs. Cooperative escapees were given active duty with SCP-131. The rest were promised the same but were later terminated per standard protocol. RESULT: SUCCESS SUBJECT: Doctor Aleisha Carol HAZARD: Following an encounter with SCP-8142 shortly after a family emergency, the subject requested to take active leave to take care of their wife in the hospital. PROPOSAL: Subject was administered class-C amnestics to erase all memory of their wife. RESULT: SUCCESS Addendum 8142.4: Interview with SCP-8142. Date: 02/10/2026 Foreword: The following footage was recorded directly from O5-6, Gertrude Turner's mind. [BEGIN LOG] Following a long day handling employee crises, Gertrude Turner left Site-17 to take a walk in the surrounding area. After 12 minutes, she stops to smoke a cigarette under a tree and turns to look at the site. It has vanished. The scenery around her warps, appearing to be composed of strokes of paint. She flicks the cigarette away. The branches of the tree she is standing under shake and curl back into a mane, revealing a lion's head, and its vines become a snake. The entity moves to face Gertrude and it sits down, turning to make its additional goat's head visible. SCP-8142: [Lion head speaking] You aren't a job that needs finishing. SCP-8142: [Snake head speaking] You needed more time. Gertrude shakes, but recomposes herself and sits down. Gertrude: Am I (pauses) the reason you're doing this? SCP-8142: [Goat head speaking] Is fire the reason it rains? No. The clouds condense because they can no longer remain vapour. Gertrude takes another drag of her cigarette and holds it out for SCP-8142, it swallows it. Gertrude: You're the cloud? SCP-8142: [Snake head speaking] The rain. Skies always clear, but it is hard to stay dry. Why not come outside? Gertrude: Fire suppression… Heh. SCP-8142: [Lion head speaking] Are you scared? Gertrude leans back against SCP-8142 and remains silent for a few moments. Gertrude: I'm possibly the only one who can't quit. You know, despite everything we're allowed to get away with, if someone genuinely threatens suicide we have to let them go. There's only so much the Ethics Committee will overlook. Me though? My connection with the outside world was cut off- not that it matters much- and I'm the FSD director and O5. I know too much and I've made myself too essential. If I quit they'd either do anything to get me back or they'd just kill me. SCP-8142: [Snake head speaking] Claire quit. Gertrude: She just ran off. I can't run. I can't fight either. SCP-8142: [Goat head speaking] You cannot run or fight. Gertrude: … SCP-8142: [All heads speaking] Walk with me. The two stand and climb through the painted scenery. It tears open and they emerge in Site-17, where they begin slowly walking through the hall. SCP-8142: Drops reaching the pond. The halls are alive, the walls melt away and Gertrude can look inside. Pumping veins connect the countless hearts working within. Old jail bars exist but this prison no longer holds inmates. Gertrude: It's all so colourful. (Pauses) I was supposed to know. She melts into a puddle. SCP-8142: How could you know? It was convenient for you. Gertrude: Even my department? Are they stuck like I am? SCP-8142 gestures and she looks into her own hands, the architecture is familiar. Gertrude begins tearing up. SCP-8142: The rain is over. Gertrude: You must hate me. SCP-8142: You are the last drop. I love you. They embrace, and remain that way for several minutes. After, SCP-8142 gives Gertrude a brush and the two paint the wall. [END LOG] Closing statement: Just like I used to. Wall of hall 2A, wing C of Site-17. Footnotes 1. A fire-breathing monster from Greek mythology depicted as a lion with a goat head protruding from its torso, and a tail ending with a snake's head. 2. Designated as staff with clearance level 2 or below displaying symptoms of discontent. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8142" by Anky swallow, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8142. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: LOWER LEVEL INTERIOR HALLWAY. LOOKING NORTHEAST. - Fairchild Air Force Base, Bomber Alert Facility, 803G South Taxi Way, Spokane, Spokane County, WA HAER WASH,32-SPOK.V,1B-12.tif Author: McKenny, Pamela License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:LOWER_LEVEL_INTERIOR_HALLWAY._LOOKING_NORTHEAST._-_Fairchild_Air_Force_Base,_Bomber_Alert_Facility,_803G_South_Taxi_Way,_Spokane,_Spokane_County,_WA_HAER_WASH,32-SPOK.V,1B-12.tif Filename: Aurora-borealis andoya.jpg Author: M.Buschmann License: CC-BY-3.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Aurora-borealis_andoya.jpg Filename: 2019-03-03 Chinstrap penguin on Barrientos Island, Antarctica.jpg Author: Gordon Leggett License: CC-BY-SA-4.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:2019-03-03_Chinstrap_penguin_on_Barrientos_Island,_Antarctica.jpg Filename: Concrete floor 03 rough 16k (Matterfield and Rob Tuytel via Poly Haven).png Author: Matterfield License: CC0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Concrete_floor_03_rough_16k_(Matterfield_and_Rob_Tuytel_via_Poly_Haven).png |
SCP-8144 | safe | Item#: 8144 Level2 Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: ekhi Risk Class: caution link to memo Special Containment Procedures: Access to the exposed outcropping of SCP-8144 is to be blocked off under the explanation that the area is geologically unstable, and thus poses a threat to human health. A small barbed-wire fence has been constructed roughly 10 meters away from the outcropping to further deter entrance to the location. Security cameras have been installed around the perimeter to monitor for unauthorized access. However, due to SCP-8144's remote location, this is unlikely, and its containment is low priority. Update 14/11/2026: Monitoring of SCP-8144's containment is to be considered a high priority due to risks posed to the Veil in the event that SCP-8144-1 is found by any unauthorized individual. Two manned outposts have since been constructed along the fencing, and are to be staffed with two armed individuals each to monitor the area and cameras. SCP-8144-1 is not to be removed from the site. Description: SCP-8144 is a 1.5 km2 layer of bioclastic limestone roughly 5 meters thick, discovered within the Tibetan Plateau on 24/10/2026 by Foundation personnel of the Department of Geology during an unrelated preliminary field study, in which a 5x10 meter outcropping of SCP-8144 was located. It was determined to be of anomalous nature due to the means of its formation and the environment it was found in. A field photograph of SCP-8144. Bioclastic limestones1 are sedimentary rocks typically characteristic of shallow marine depositional environments, formed when large amounts of calcium carbonate shells, corals and other waste lithifies2 upon death. These layers of remains are hallmarked by their high concentrations of still visible fossils. The geological layers surrounding the area SCP-8144 is located in shows no history of any sea transgression or regression — meaning that, during the time that SCP-8144 was formed, the area was never underwater. Thus, it has been determined that it is impossible for SCP-8144 to have formed naturally. Investigation for other possible anomalous properties of SCP-8144 are ongoing. Addendum 8144.1: Chemical and compositional analysis of SCP-8144 has found that the calcium carbonate within it is composed entirely of human bones, carbon dating to roughly 8,500 BCE. Upon further investigation, DNA analysis indicates thaumatological influence consistent with late Daevite imperial practices. As a result, an archeological team was dispatched to further investigate SCP-8144 and its surroundings. An in-depth excavation of the site was undertaken on 12/11/2026. It led to the unearthing of various minor artifacts— broken spears, preserved cloth, armor shards, and traces of both past Daevite and Sarkic activity within the area of SCP-8144. Most notably, there were a multitude of signs of failed Sarkic rituals — indicating that an unknown type of interference in the ability to utilize fleshcrafting was occurring at the time. All objects were sent back to Foundation facilities for further study. On-site archeologists began to theorize that SCP-8144 is the site of a large scale battle between Daevite and Sarkic forces. Upon partial excavation of the SCP-8144 outcropping, the archeological team discovered the first fully intact lithified skeleton.3 These remains are theorized to be of a Daevite matriarch, dressed in a heavy metal armor apparatus that has since fused to the bones. This armor holds a small, limestone carved idol, which was placed within the chest piece and connected to a series of runic lines. Despite the age of the skeleton, and it being heavily fused into the surrounding strata, the armor and idol were perfectly preserved.4 The idol is henceforth referred to as SCP-8144-1 — a cylindrically carved piece of micritic limestone marked with Daevite symbology, which is not currently fully understood. The shape and manner of some carvings, however, have been compared to that of protective wards — specifically against fleshcrafting magics. Upon finding that it could be removed from the armor without damaging it, the idol was extracted for further study. On-site archeologists reported the sensation of a hum in the air upon its removal — as well as, most noticeably, that the inscriptions upon the matriarch's armor began to glow, and parts of the apparatus began to turn and shift. The description of a change in the air would remain even after departing the excavation site. Incident Report 8144.1: Post the retrieval of SCP-8144-1, all on-site archeologists departed with the intention to return to the nearest site. After several hours, it was reported that one Dr. Dawa Kelsang — who, among other artifacts, had been transporting SCP-8144-1 — had not returned. A Foundation search party was promptly dispatched. Dr. Kelsang's vehicle was found on the side of the road roughly half a kilometer from the excavation site, suffering damage from an head on collision with a Thorold's deer. The deer's head and antlers had pierced through the windshield, where one antler had impaled Dr. Kelsang through the chest and throat. Both individuals were found completely lithified. SCP-8144-1 was swiftly returned to the apparatus from which it was taken from. The reported hum in the air then ceased, and the armor apparatus ceased all activity. Approximately 15 other animal carcasses, believed to have been deceased in recent times due to predation or natural causes, were found similarly lithified. All remains were scattered out in a 1 km radius surrounding the site. The fact that the affected area is smaller than that of SCP-8144 itself has been noted as odd. However, due to the placement of some found carcasses, it is believed that the area affected had moved slightly for the brief period it was taken off-site. It has since been theorized that the removal of SCP-8144-1 from the apparatus reactivated the same anomalous properties that had resulted in the creation of SCP-8144. While the effects upon the carcasses were not reversed upon the return of SCP-8144-1, no more were discovered during a five day survey period of the surrounding area — lending credence to the theory of activation. All lithified remains, including that of Dr. Kelsang's, were taken to the nearest Foundation site for further study. It should be noted that similar formations containing SCP-8144 have also been discovered at other sites throughout the Tibetan Plateau. Footnotes 1. Also referred to as "fossiliferous limestone" or "skeletal limestone" 2. The process in which sediments under high pressure, usually from bodies of water, are compacted into solid rock 3. All other bones that make up SCP-8144 have been fragments. 4. Likely a thaumaturgical effect from runes and symbols carved into both the armor and idol itself. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8144" by Dino—Draws, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8144. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Name: Bioclastic limestone.PNG Author: Zhanel.bissekenova License: CC BY-SA 4.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-8145 | keter | Item #: SCP-8145 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8145 is contained within its own description. Do not alter, expand or clarify any content of this entry. Exercise caution when opening or closing the entry. Description: ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8145" by Monkeysky, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8145. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: fistula1.svg Author: Monkeysky License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Filename: fistula2.svg Author: Monkeysky License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Filename: fistula3.svg Author: Monkeysky License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Filename: fistula4.svg Author: Monkeysky License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Filename: fistula5.svg Author: Monkeysky License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Filename: fistula6.svg Author: Monkeysky License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki |
SCP-8147 | safe | Item #: SCP-8147 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8147 is to be kept in a standard Safe object containment locker. Testing on SCP-8147 is strictly forbidden following the events of Incident 8147-1. Description: SCP-8147 is a 4-meter-wide 3-centimeter-thick circular ring made of bronze, with three brackets on its backside that enable it to be mounted to a wall. In addition, the object has a USB port and a standard American 120 V power plug. When SCP-8147 is powered and is attached to a keyboard, its interior turns into a black void which behaves as if it is solid. When a user types on the keyboard, white text appears in this void. If, at any time, the user hits the "Enter" key, the text disappears, and an image of an hourglass will appear on the surface of SCP-8147 for anywhere from three seconds to two hours. Following this, the interior of SCP-8147 will become a Class IV Dimensional Rift, enabling the user to travel into an alternate world (designated SCP-8147-1). This world will roughly match the textual description the user entered prior. No material from within SCP-8147-1 may pass through the rift. SCP-8147 Testing Log: Test No. Prompt Generation Time Additional Notes 3 A planet made entirely out of solid iron. 4s None. 17 A replica of modern-day Earth. 33s Minor differences to baseline reality were noted. For instance, New Zealand was absent. 45 An Earth-sized planet made entirely out of bricks. 20m48s A pile of loose bricks was spotted 1km from the rift. Otherwise, the planet was entirely flat. 174 An Earth-sized planet made entirely from dominoes stacked on their edges. 2h25m19s SCP-8147 never generated a rift during this test. Instead, after 2h25m19s, it displayed an "X" and returned to its "text entry" state. Incident 8147-1: On 4 April 2023, a test was being conducted on SCP-8147 where it was prompted to create "A planet identical to Earth, except that humans never evolved." However, Site-03 briefly lost power 2.47 seconds after SCP-8147 entered its "hourglass" state. Upon losing power, SCP-8147 immediately formed a Class IV Dimensional Rift instead of shutting down as expected. Upon entering, the SCP-8147 Exploration Team stepped onto mountainous, rocky terrain. Exploration Team Captain Roberts was immediately alerted to a human entity (designated SCP-8147-2) dressed in overalls chiseling a rock with a jackhammer. [SCP-8147-2 stops the jackhammer and stares at the exploration crew.] SCP-8147-2: Holy shit. Capt. Roberts: Who are you? SCP-8147-2: You folks gotta leave. This is a construction zone. Capt. Roberts: I thought this planet wasn't supposed to have humans. Are you human? SCP-8147-2: As human as you are! I'll be outta your way once it's finished. Now scram! Capt. Roberts: Wait, what made this planet? SCP-8147-2: You're lookin' at 'im. Fuckin' hate planet duty. Capt. Roberts: And exactly how long have you been here? SCP-8147-2: 'Round about two-and-a-half quadrillion years. All tests on SCP-8147 are now forbidden as per Ethics Committee fiat, including the planned Test #297. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8147" by radian628, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8147. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. |
SCP-8148 | keter | NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION RECORDS AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION This version of the article is dated 6/17/1952 and is outdated. Information in this article may be inaccurate and in certain cases, false. Proceed with caution. — RAISA 4/8148 LEVEL 4/8148 CLASSIFIED Item #: SCP-8148 Special Containment Procedures: Foundation security at all Temporary Object-Holding Sites are to be informed of SCP-8148’s alias and appearance. Security is to detain and amnesticize any SCP-8148 instances and store it on site until the conclusion of its according SCP-8148-1 event. Security is permitted to terminate SCP-8148 if it is uncooperative. Once the corresponding SCP-8148-1 event has concluded, the SCP-8148 instance is to be relocated to a permanent humanoid holding cell and is to be contained until SCP-8148 demanifests. Description: SCP-8148 is a 180.34 cm tall Type Blue 27-year-old caucasian male who refers to itself as “Doctor Silvian King.” SCP-8148 believes itself to be a Foundation Researcher of thaumatology.1 No Foundation employee has been taught thaumatology due to its anomalous nature. There is also no record of the Foundation employing a "Doctor Silvian King" at any point in its history. Despite SCP-8148 visibly aging while in containment, it always remanifests at 27 years old. SCP-8148’s anomalous effect appears when a Temporary Object-Holding Site contains at least 1 temporary dormitory. Appearing to be asleep, at exactly 00:00, SCP-8148 may manifest inside the bed of an empty temporary dormitory. The likelihood of an SCP-8148 instance manifesting increases with the number of SCP objects and D-Class stored at the site. SCP-8148 will wake up at 08:00, and, during the day, will usually attempt to aid staff in their activities. SCP-8148 shows varying degrees of knowledge in the task it attempts to assist in. Its behavior is also highly dependent on manifestation. SCP-8148 has reacted to staff in a variety of ways ranging from complete obedience to orders given to it, to disregarding staff and acting outwardly violent towards them. On rare occasions, SCP-8148 has attempted to break into on-site armories. SCP-8148 will stay manifested until its anomalous effects trigger again, at which point it will demanifest and a new manifestation of SCP-8148 will appear. This effect persists after death. Within 24 hours after the manifestation of SCP-8148, SCP-8148-1 will occur. SCP-8148-1 is the breach of containment at the site where SCP-8148 manifested. SCP-8148-1 has been observed containing several different types of breaches, all of which are listed below: The breach of Keter Class anomalies. The breach of Euclid class anomalies. The invasion of the Site by an enemy GOI. The invasion of the Site by an anomaly. The escape attempt of D-Class Personnel. The manifestation of a new anomaly. SCP-8148 believes that it has survived all SCP-8148-1 instances it's interacted with. SCP-8148's behavior is inconsistent along with its memory of all the SCP-8148-1 events it has been involved with, commonly forgetting or referring to SCP-8148-1 events that not occurred. Addendum 8148.1-476: The following is a series of video logs from SCP-8148 manifestations. + Video log #18: 3/14/1953 - Access Granted VIDEO LOG DATE: 3/14/1953. NOTE: SCP-8148 manifested 2 days after the transfer of SCP-████ onto Temporary Object-Holding Site-12B. [BEGIN LOG] Footage retrieved from the cafeteria located on level 5. 16:04: SCP-8148 enters the cafeteria and sits next to Dr. Carlos Blacke. It and the doctor are seen talking to each other for 22 minutes as they eat. 16:26: An SCP-8148-1 event occurs and SCP-████ breaches containment. Alarms start blaring and both SCP-8148 and Dr. Carlos Blacke go to a Breach Shelter. Footage retrieved from the camera located in Hallway 5-12B. 16:32: Both SCP-8148 and Dr. Carlos Blacke arrive at BS:5-22. Footage retrieved from the camera located in BS:5-2. 16:36: On-site security stationed in the Shelter identify and detain SCP-8148. 18:43: MTF successfully recontain SCP-████ and retrieve SCP-8148. [END LOG] SCP-████ was safely relocated to Site-18. SCP-8148 was transferred to Site-02 and stayed there till its demanifestation 6 weeks later. Dr. Carlos Blacke was interviewed on his conversation with SCP-8148; and stated that he and it were talking about their favorite novels, with SCP-8148 naming several novels that do not exist.3 + Video log #72: 9/23/1979 - Access Granted VIDEO LOG DATE: 9/23/1959. NOTE: Due to several D-Class transfer requests from Site-19, Temporary Object-Holding Site-18B was acceding the recommended maximum capacity for D-Class stored on site. [BEGIN LOG] 11:00: A group of seven D-Class are returning to their cells, being escorted by two guards. 11:02: An SCP-8148-1 event occurs and, before reaching the cell block, three D-Class attack one of the guards while two others attack the second one. They manage to overpower and disarm the guards, shooting them. They proceed to break into the cell block, unlocking all cells in the process. All on-site security is called to deal with the situation. Footage retrieved from the camera located in hallway 2-6 11:06: SCP-8148 is seen walking down the hallway when two security guards intercept it. They tell SCP-8148 to retreat deeper into the facility. After 2 minutes of noncompliance from SCP-8148, the two guards identify SCP-8148 and attempt to detain it. SCP-8148 resists and attempts to take one of the guard's firearms. The second guard terminates SCP-8148 and both leave. [END LOG] All D-Class that contributed to the riot were terminated and incinerated. The 2 security guards that encountered SCP-8148 described that it was attempting to offer its help to resolve the breach. Once identified as an SCP-8148 instance, it became hostile, stating that its arrest was "unjustified" and "unimportant compared to the breach currently occurring." + Video log #194: 12/19/1998 - Access Granted VIDEO LOG DATE: 12/19/1998. NOTE: Security Officer Thomas Strider had been stationed at the nightshift at the Temporary Dormitories at Temporary Object-Holding Site-02. [BEGIN LOG] Footage retrieved from the camera located in the Temporary Dormitories hallway. 23:46: Security Officer Thomas Strider breaks into and enters Temporary Dormitory 16. Nothing occurs for 15 minutes. 00:01: The sounds of thuds and glass breaking are heard for a few seconds before 2 gunshots are heard. 00:03: SCP-8148, noticeably bleeding, exits Temporary Dormitory 16 with a Foundation Standard Issued handgun and starts walking down the hallway. Security intercepts SCP-8148 and terminates it. [END LOG] The corpse of Security Officer Thomas Strider was found inside Temporary Dormitory 16 with scorch marks across his body and a bullet in his head. A radio, a blueprint of the site, and several letters with symbols originating from The Chaos Insurgency were found. Several runes were drawn in blood and scratched into the walls around the room. Background checks on Security Officer Thomas Strider confirmed that he had never been hired by the Foundation. Investigations into how he was able to infiltrate security are ongoing. As of 12/7/2005 this page is outdated, access next page? Footnotes 1. Magic. 2. Breach Shelter: 5-2. 3. "Honestly, I'm surprised my encounter with it felt like just another conversation I'd have with an employee. If it didn't keep mentioning bizarre books like "Harry Potter," I wouldn't have suspected a thing." - Dr. Carlos Blacke. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8148" by Sly King, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8148. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. |author=Sly King]] |
SCP-8148 | neutralized | NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION RECORDS AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION This version of the article is dated 6/17/1952 and is outdated. Information in this article may be inaccurate and in certain cases, false. Proceed with caution. — RAISA 4/8148 LEVEL 4/8148 CLASSIFIED Item #: SCP-8148 Special Containment Procedures: Foundation security at all Temporary Object-Holding Sites are to be informed of SCP-8148’s alias and appearance. Security is to detain and amnesticize any SCP-8148 instances and store it on site until the conclusion of its according SCP-8148-1 event. Security is permitted to terminate SCP-8148 if it is uncooperative. Once the corresponding SCP-8148-1 event has concluded, the SCP-8148 instance is to be relocated to a permanent humanoid holding cell and is to be contained until SCP-8148 demanifests. Description: SCP-8148 is a 180.34 cm tall Type Blue 27-year-old caucasian male who refers to itself as “Doctor Silvian King.” SCP-8148 believes itself to be a Foundation Researcher of thaumatology.1 No Foundation employee has been taught thaumatology due to its anomalous nature. There is also no record of the Foundation employing a "Doctor Silvian King" at any point in its history. Despite SCP-8148 visibly aging while in containment, it always remanifests at 27 years old. SCP-8148’s anomalous effect appears when a Temporary Object-Holding Site contains at least 1 temporary dormitory. Appearing to be asleep, at exactly 00:00, SCP-8148 may manifest inside the bed of an empty temporary dormitory. The likelihood of an SCP-8148 instance manifesting increases with the number of SCP objects and D-Class stored at the site. SCP-8148 will wake up at 08:00, and, during the day, will usually attempt to aid staff in their activities. SCP-8148 shows varying degrees of knowledge in the task it attempts to assist in. Its behavior is also highly dependent on manifestation. SCP-8148 has reacted to staff in a variety of ways ranging from complete obedience to orders given to it, to disregarding staff and acting outwardly violent towards them. On rare occasions, SCP-8148 has attempted to break into on-site armories. SCP-8148 will stay manifested until its anomalous effects trigger again, at which point it will demanifest and a new manifestation of SCP-8148 will appear. This effect persists after death. Within 24 hours after the manifestation of SCP-8148, SCP-8148-1 will occur. SCP-8148-1 is the breach of containment at the site where SCP-8148 manifested. SCP-8148-1 has been observed containing several different types of breaches, all of which are listed below: The breach of Keter Class anomalies. The breach of Euclid class anomalies. The invasion of the Site by an enemy GOI. The invasion of the Site by an anomaly. The escape attempt of D-Class Personnel. The manifestation of a new anomaly. SCP-8148 believes that it has survived all SCP-8148-1 instances it's interacted with. SCP-8148's behavior is inconsistent along with its memory of all the SCP-8148-1 events it has been involved with, commonly forgetting or referring to SCP-8148-1 events that not occurred. Addendum 8148.1-476: The following is a series of video logs from SCP-8148 manifestations. + Video log #18: 3/14/1953 - Access Granted VIDEO LOG DATE: 3/14/1953. NOTE: SCP-8148 manifested 2 days after the transfer of SCP-████ onto Temporary Object-Holding Site-12B. [BEGIN LOG] Footage retrieved from the cafeteria located on level 5. 16:04: SCP-8148 enters the cafeteria and sits next to Dr. Carlos Blacke. It and the doctor are seen talking to each other for 22 minutes as they eat. 16:26: An SCP-8148-1 event occurs and SCP-████ breaches containment. Alarms start blaring and both SCP-8148 and Dr. Carlos Blacke go to a Breach Shelter. Footage retrieved from the camera located in Hallway 5-12B. 16:32: Both SCP-8148 and Dr. Carlos Blacke arrive at BS:5-22. Footage retrieved from the camera located in BS:5-2. 16:36: On-site security stationed in the Shelter identify and detain SCP-8148. 18:43: MTF successfully recontain SCP-████ and retrieve SCP-8148. [END LOG] SCP-████ was safely relocated to Site-18. SCP-8148 was transferred to Site-02 and stayed there till its demanifestation 6 weeks later. Dr. Carlos Blacke was interviewed on his conversation with SCP-8148; and stated that he and it were talking about their favorite novels, with SCP-8148 naming several novels that do not exist.3 + Video log #72: 9/23/1979 - Access Granted VIDEO LOG DATE: 9/23/1959. NOTE: Due to several D-Class transfer requests from Site-19, Temporary Object-Holding Site-18B was acceding the recommended maximum capacity for D-Class stored on site. [BEGIN LOG] 11:00: A group of seven D-Class are returning to their cells, being escorted by two guards. 11:02: An SCP-8148-1 event occurs and, before reaching the cell block, three D-Class attack one of the guards while two others attack the second one. They manage to overpower and disarm the guards, shooting them. They proceed to break into the cell block, unlocking all cells in the process. All on-site security is called to deal with the situation. Footage retrieved from the camera located in hallway 2-6 11:06: SCP-8148 is seen walking down the hallway when two security guards intercept it. They tell SCP-8148 to retreat deeper into the facility. After 2 minutes of noncompliance from SCP-8148, the two guards identify SCP-8148 and attempt to detain it. SCP-8148 resists and attempts to take one of the guard's firearms. The second guard terminates SCP-8148 and both leave. [END LOG] All D-Class that contributed to the riot were terminated and incinerated. The 2 security guards that encountered SCP-8148 described that it was attempting to offer its help to resolve the breach. Once identified as an SCP-8148 instance, it became hostile, stating that its arrest was "unjustified" and "unimportant compared to the breach currently occurring." + Video log #194: 12/19/1998 - Access Granted VIDEO LOG DATE: 12/19/1998. NOTE: Security Officer Thomas Strider had been stationed at the nightshift at the Temporary Dormitories at Temporary Object-Holding Site-02. [BEGIN LOG] Footage retrieved from the camera located in the Temporary Dormitories hallway. 23:46: Security Officer Thomas Strider breaks into and enters Temporary Dormitory 16. Nothing occurs for 15 minutes. 00:01: The sounds of thuds and glass breaking are heard for a few seconds before 2 gunshots are heard. 00:03: SCP-8148, noticeably bleeding, exits Temporary Dormitory 16 with a Foundation Standard Issued handgun and starts walking down the hallway. Security intercepts SCP-8148 and terminates it. [END LOG] The corpse of Security Officer Thomas Strider was found inside Temporary Dormitory 16 with scorch marks across his body and a bullet in his head. A radio, a blueprint of the site, and several letters with symbols originating from The Chaos Insurgency were found. Several runes were drawn in blood and scratched into the walls around the room. Background checks on Security Officer Thomas Strider confirmed that he had never been hired by the Foundation. Investigations into how he was able to infiltrate security are ongoing. As of 12/7/2005 this page is outdated, access next page? Footnotes 1. Magic. 2. Breach Shelter: 5-2. 3. "Honestly, I'm surprised my encounter with it felt like just another conversation I'd have with an employee. If it didn't keep mentioning bizarre books like "Harry Potter," I wouldn't have suspected a thing." - Dr. Carlos Blacke. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8148" by Sly King, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8148. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. |author=Sly King]] |
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