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SCP-7436 | keter | Item #: SCP-7436 Special Containment Procedures: Due to SCP-7436's nature, containment is not currently known to be possible. Discussion of possible SCP-7436 instances on online forums or social media is to be monitored and discredited when necessary. Surviving individuals subject to SCP-7436 instances are to be interviewed and amnesticized as per standard protocol. Research into the source and any possible preventative measures of SCP-7436 is ongoing. Foundation employees located within continental United States and Canada who are involved in a possible SCP-7436 event are strongly encouraged to remain in their current location and avoid interacting with any possible anomalous entities to reduce likelihood of injury or death. Description: SCP-7436 is an ongoing series of phone calls received in the continental United States and Canada between the hours of 09:00 PM to 04:00 AM. The contents of these calls vary, though they are typically regarded as highly unusual or distressing by their recipients. Additionally, SCP-7436 is capable of impersonating individuals its target is familiar with, and is seemingly aware of information these individuals and the target would be privy to. It is unknown how SCP-7436 'selects' a victim, though it has thus far only targeted individuals who are alone or among strangers. Individuals who engage with an SCP-7436 phone call will invariably trigger an SCP-7436 event, in which the call's recipient will become subject to a number of anomalous phenomena. This includes the manifestation of anomalous entities and objects, transportation to an extra-dimensional space and other apparent manipulation of reality. The goal of SCP-7436 and related entities appears to be to coax or otherwise remove its target from their initial space, after which they are typically injured or disappear. SCP-7436's general motivation and the fate of individuals who go missing as a result of SCP-7436 events are both unknown. **Addendum 7436.1:** **Addendum 7436.1:** The following is a log of notable SCP-7436 calls and their aftermaths. Note that the amount of available information varies from instance to instance, depending on whether the call's transcript and the victim could be recovered. When applicable, comments from surviving victims of SCP-7436 will be included. Instance: #03 Circumstances and description of call: The victim (John Kinkade, age 38) was staying in a hotel in New Glasgow, Nova Scotia. At approximately 9:40 PM, the victim received a phone call from an unknown individual, who was speaking nonsensically. ("He sounded like he was wasted. Was asking for directions… to the hotel, I think?") After approximately 30 seconds, the victim hung up. Description of event: Soon after hanging up, the victim reported hearing muffled breathing coming from outside the door. The victim then investigated. ("I opened the door but didn't see anyone. I leaned out, saw someone down the hall turning the corner quickly. Would've followed and given 'em what for, but I noticed that something was up with the wall. It looked different.") The victim exited his room briefly, before returning and attempting to sleep. ("The breathing came back, and it kept me up the whole time. I would've normally done something, but something was telling me that going out was a horrible idea.") Roughly 2 hours later, the breathing ceased, signaling the end of the SCP-7436 event. Analysis of material on the victim's shoe yielded a combination of human blood, saliva1 and various forms of alcohol. Instance: #18 Circumstances and transcript of call: The victim (Erin Baskin, age 55) was in her home in Madison, Wisconsin, when she received a call on her landline at 02:01 AM. The victim reported the caller's voice to be somewhat similar to that of her husband. [Begin transcript] Baskin: Hello? SCP-7436: [Silence] Baskin: …Hel- SCP-7436: Erin, come outside. Baskin: Matt? where are you? SCP-7436: I went for a drive and got lost… come let me in. Baskin: What? a drive? SCP-7436: I think- (Unintelligible) being followed. Baskin: Alright, I'm coming. Baskin: Jesus, why were you out so late? It's two in the morning. SCP-7436: …Morning. [End transcript] Description of event: After finishing the call, the victim walked to her window, attempting to see her husband outside. ("When I looked out the window, the sky looked like it was broad daylight. It was midnight, it should've been pitch black.") This lasted for several seconds before abruptly returning to a state of darkness. The victim then observed an entity resembling her husband, though with the notable lack of a mouth, standing outside. ("It wasn't like he just didn't have one. It looked like something had… oh god (…) taken a scoop out of Matt's face… with a spoon.") The victim quickly returned to her room, locking herself inside for the remainder of the event. Instance: #32 Circumstances and transcript of call: The victim (Brian Spann, age 20) was attending a party with a friend in Boston, Massachusetts. At approximately 11:38, the victim's friend briefly left the premises for an unknown reason.2 Soon after, the victim received a call on his mobile phone, which he went upstairs to answer. [Begin transcript] Spann: Hello… Mike? SCP-7436: (Muffled) Yeah. Spann: I was just about to call you. I think I'm gonna dip, I don't know anybody here. SCP-7436: Yes. I think that's a good idea. Spann: Alright, I'll catch you later I guess. SCP-7436: I can drive you home. You need to be careful at this hour. Spann: …what makes you say that? SCP-7436: You don't know what's out there. Things that follow you, the ones with the eyes on the front. Spann: What the fuck are you talking about? SCP-7436: You should know, prey have eyes on the sides of th- (Unintelligible) I'm outside. Spann: …Alright, I guess. (The victim can be heard walking down the stairs.) Spann: You sure you're good to dri… the hell? SCP-7436: Something wrong? Spann: (Whispering) Everyone downstairs is just standing around like a fucking zombie. Nobody's even talking. Spann: Jesus, they're all looking at me now. SCP-7436: I'm outside, come quickly. Spann: I'm coming. What kind of fucking party is this? (The victim can be heard quickly opening the door and exiting the building.) [End transcript] Description of event: The event seemingly occurred while the victim was still on the phone. The victim has not been seen by anyone since he received the call and went upstairs, where his cellphone was later found. The victim's friend complained of severe throat and mouth pain for several days following the event. Instance: #65 Circumstances and description of call: The victim (Joseph Caldera, age 58) received a call on his cellphone at 09:27 PM while driving along an interstate highway in rural Wyoming. The victim reported the caller to have sounded as if they were salivating intensely. The caller frantically pleaded for the victim to help them, claiming to have been struck by a vehicle nearby. The victim reported being confused by the call. ("I don't even know how he got my number, let alone how he knew I was in the middle of nowhere.") He suggested the caller contact emergency services before hanging up. Description of event: Minutes after the call's end, the victim encountered an empty vehicle on the road in front of him. The victim exited his vehicle and inspected the scene, finding that the other vehicle had seemingly struck an Ovis canadensis3 that possessed significant physical abnormalities, including an unusually large amount of teeth and forward-facing eyes. The victim also described the vehicle as being strange in appearance. ("The thing looked fake. No side mirrors, no windows, no gas tank. It was like a prop you'd see in a movie, that couldn't actually drive.") The victim quickly returned to his vehicle and drove away. After parking in the driveway of his home, the victim was struck from behind and knocked unconscious. He was found in the driveway by his wife the following morning, with severe injuries to his jaw and throat. An Ovis canadensis carcass was found nearby, lacking most of its internal organs. Instance: #79 Circumstances and transcript of call: The victim (Gerard Padilla, age 29) was waiting alone at a bus stop in Toronto, Ontario. At 11:05, the victim received the following phone call. [Begin transcript] Padilla: Hello? SCP-7436: The bus… Padilla: Who is this? SCP-7436: The bus isn't coming for you. Padilla: Excuse me? SCP-7436: Something's wrong. I- (Unintelligible). You can't take the bus home. Padilla: What, a delay? Padilla: Wait, since when do transit services fucking call people? Who is this? SCP-7436: The bus isn't coming. [End transcript] Description of event: The victim recorded multiple videos, photos and other digital files in the hours following the call. These were all recovered when the victim's cellphone was found at the same bus stop the following day, although the victim himself has not been located. See Addendum 7436.2 for a log of the recovered files. **Addendum 7436.2:** **Addendum 7436.2:** The following is a log of digital files recovered from the cellphone belonging to the victim of instance #79. Time of recording 11:09 PM File type: Video [Begin log] Camera shows the victim, standing alone in the bus stop, with a worried expression. Padilla: I don't really know why I'm recording this but… I just got the creepiest fucking call, and now every time I try to make one it just goes straight to voicemail. I don't know what's going on, but I feel like… if something happens to me, I want people to know. Camera turns, showing its surroundings. It is unusually dark, with very little visible beyond the area surrounding the bus stop. Padilla: Why is it so damn quiet all of the sudden? Camera is lowered. [End log] Time of recording 11:23 PM File type: Video [Begin log] Camera is pointed forward as the victim walks down the street, the phone's flashlight illuminating ahead. Padilla: I waited over ten minutes and the bus never came. I didn't feel safe, so I'm just gonna walk home I guess. Padilla: For some reason, none of the street lights are on. The victim continues walking for 5 minutes, before stopping and seemingly looking at his phone. Padilla: I should've passed a McDonald's 5 minutes ago. Where the fuck is everything? [End log] Time taken 11:41 PM File type: Video [Begin log] Camera is behind an unknown structure, which the victim is presumably using as cover. Victim's breathing is faintly audible. A row of cars and a phone booth are visible across the street. Many of the cars lack significant details, such as windows or doors. A humanoid figure is seen entering the phone booth and making a call. After 12 seconds, the humanoid exits the phone booth. It begins to wretch and vomit an unknown substance onto the pavement. It then proceeds to walk directly into a car, moving through it as if it were not a solid object. It slumps into the driver's seat, going limp as the car begins to drive away. [End log] Time taken 11:44 PM File type: Photo Description: Photo depicts a puddle of black liquid on the pavement. A number of severed electrical wires and human teeth are present in the puddle. Time taken 12:37 AM File type: Video [Begin log] Footage is almost entirely dark as the victim whispers. Padilla: I had to turn my flashlight off. Can't let them see me. Camera turns, revealing the victim to be inside an empty building, with several windows along the wall. Padilla: I don't know if I'm in hell or something. It sure feels like it. Camera moves as the victim paces around the room. An unfinished puzzle and several alcohol bottles are strewn around the floor. Padilla: I can't call anyone, and even if I could, my phone is on 9% anyways. But those… things. They almost looked like people from far away… seemed to be talking using the phone booths. If they don't work for me, I- Camera quickly turns. The silhouette of a vaguely humanoid entity can be seen crawling through a window. [End log] Time taken 12:56 AM File type: Photo Description: Photo is taken from inside a phone booth. The phone is off the hook, and blood splatter is visible on the wall and floor. Footnotes 1. Both matching no known individuals. 2. The victim's friend claimed to not remember why he left or what occurred in the interval he was not present. 3. A Bighorn sheep, which are known to inhabit the area. More From This Author More From This Author DukeCrusty's Works SCPs SCP-6191 • SCP-6838 • SCP-6343 • Tales/GoI Formats Other The Crustacean Station • ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7436" by DukeCrusty, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7436. 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-7437 | safe | close Info X SCP-7437: Phlegethon Author: KingCasper "Infernal Gods, who rule the Shades below, Chaos and Phlegethon, ye Realms of Woe, Grant what I've heard I may to light expose, Secrets which Earth, and Night, and Hell inclose." ― Aeneid, Book VI, lines 328–331 KingCasper Written by KingCasper Item#: 7437 Level5 Containment Class: safe Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: keneq Risk Class: critical link to memo Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7437 is to be contained within an airlocked, heat-resistant storage unit located within Site-23. Under no circumstances are any personnel to be authorized to directly interact with or consume any amount of SCP-7437. Routine maintenance checks of SCP-7437's containment tank are to occur on a daily basis. Any entities or personnel attempting to consume any amount of SCP-7437 are to be detained on sight. If detainment is not a viable option, immediate termination is authorized. SCP-7437-A instances are to be contained within standard Euclid-level humanoid containment cells. Due to the biological requirements of SCP-7437-A instances, no food or water is to be provided. Pain suppressants are to be administered to SCP-7437-A instances every four hours. If the behavior expressed by instances of SCP-7437-A becomes violent or otherwise unpredictable, they are to be restrained and sedated until re-exhibiting typical behavior. Personnel are permitted to interact with SCP-7437-A instances if explicit authorization has been granted by personnel with Level 5/7437 Security Clearance. All instances of SCP-7437-A are to be subject to regular Tartarean Resonance Energy monitoring. Under direct command of the Ethics Committee, research into the termination of SCP-7437-A-1 is currently ongoing. All further testing regarding SCP-7437 has been indefinitely suspended. Description: SCP-7437 is approximately 13.5 liters of ectoentropic liquid that is chemically identical to human blood. SCP-7437 remains at a constant temperature of 103 celsius, and all attempts to alter the temperature of SCP-7437 have proven unsuccessful. Despite exceeding the boiling point of non-anomalous human blood, SCP-7437 does not appear to be boiling, and is visually indistinguishable from blood at room temperature. Upon the consumption, injection, or general intake of any amount of SCP-7437, the entity in question is to be designated as an instance of SCP-7437-A. SCP-7437 causes several changes in instances of SCP-7437-A. The most notable changes include: The biological aging process ceases to occur, and the instance of SCP-7437-A cannot expire. Attempts to anomalously alter the age of SCP-7437-A instances have resulted in no noticeable changes. SCP-7437-A no longer needs to consume food or liquid to sustain itself, and it no longer requires sleep or oxygen to biologically function. However, SCP-7437-A instances still suffer physical pain as a result of being unable to breathe. All diseases, viruses, and infections present in SCP-7437-A at the time of consumption will subsequently and instantaneously terminate. SCP-7437-A instances are not affected by any diseases, viruses, or infections, both anomalous and non-anomalous in nature, upon the consumption of SCP-7437. SCP-7437-A gains physical regenerative abilities that prevent it from being terminated by SCP-7437, or by any other known means. Any physical trauma sustained will typically regenerate within several seconds, however exact recovery time varies depending on the extent of the trauma suffered. As a result, no methods to terminate any instances of SCP-7437-A are currently known to exist. Entities that are not biological in nature or do not possess blood are unable to become an instance of SCP-7437-A, and are subsequently unaffected by SCP-7437. Upon consuming SCP-7437, the instance of SCP-7437-A that consumed it will have the amount of SCP-7437 present in their system begin circulating through their blood vessels, converting any non-anomalous blood it comes in contact with into further instances of SCP-7437. Exsanguinated instances of SCP-7437 do not possess any anomalous properties, and all attempts to completely purge SCP-7437 from an instance of SCP-7437-A have proven ineffective. SCP-7437 radiates a consistent and excessive amount of Tartarean Resonance Energy, equivalent to approximately 780% of the typical amount produced by Tartarean entities. Despite this, the Tartarean Resonance Energy emitted by SCP-7437 has not shown to have any significant effect on its surroundings. Instances of SCP-7437-A have proven to emit negligible amounts of Tartarean Resonance Energy, equivalent to 40% of the typical amount produced by Tartarean entities. Attempts to terminate or interfere with the effects of SCP-7437 on instances of SCP-7437-A using methods specifically meant to affect Tartarean entities have proven ineffective. SCP-7437-A-1 is the only known instance of SCP-7437-A, and is Léon Levasseur, a French explorer born in 1460, and one of the three parties responsible for the creation of SCP-7437. All attempts to communicate consistently with SCP-7437-A-1 have resulted in failure, with the events transcribed in Addendum-7437-B being the only exception. Addendum-7437-A: Translated1 travel logs of Cyril Levasseur, written during 1483. [+ DISPLAY FIRST ENTRY] [- HIDE FIRST ENTRY] Wednesday, 16th of April In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, I pray we will have safe travels. Our majesty, King Louis, has tasked me and my elder brother to travel to the beyond lands of Greece, and seek out water from the mythical river Phlegethon. Léon, bless his heart, did not have previous knowledge of the river Phlegethon, nor its mystical ability to cure all unholy ailments, and prolong the existence of both body and spirit. Nevertheless, he was exceptionally emphatic about the task, as is befitting of him. This, precisely, is why our Majesty seeks it for himself. He has informed me and my brother that his maladies had only progressed further into ruin, and all he has attempted thus far has been for naught. Thus, due to our supposed "greatness", we have been tasked with obtaining water from the river Phlegethon, and delivering it upon him, so that his reign may continue for as long as our Lord intends. As is proper, Léon is particularly excited about this, and he is yet to truly stop his ramblings about his desire for both of us to become immortal alongside our highness. He hopes that we become nothing but the most renowned explorers across all of Europe. I, for one, know such a fate is not meant to befall us. Or rather me, at least. I only accompany my brother because being a famed explorer is but his deepest fantasy, and I dread to imagine discouraging him from pursuing it. Even so, I do not understand the point of obtaining immortality. Life in itself already harbors so little meaning, why would anybody choose to prolong it? But no matter, as long as Léon is content, and as long as I can reap some benefit from whatever spoils our majesty will grant us, I will journey nevertheless. Half an hour after dawn, we shall set our sights on Greece, and leave Dijon to wait for our return. [+ DISPLAY SECOND ENTRY] [- HIDE SECOND ENTRY] Thursday, 17th of April In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, I pray we will have safe travels. As I had planned, we left half an hour after the sun rose beyond the crest of the horizon. We traveled on foot, as we had prior arrangements to receive mobile carriages upon arriving at Pontailler-sur-Saône. For our own safety, Léon wielded his axe, and I wielded my blade and matchlock. Fortunately, praise be to the lord, we did not encounter any quarrels during our travels today. When the sun had reached its zenith in the sky, we settled down for a moment to eat lunch. As we were doing so, a traveler approached us from the beaten path. I approximate the man being in his early forties. His hair was greying and shortly cropped, however his spirit was young, and his eyes carried great wisdom within them. He approached us, and greeted us with a warm smile. He asked if we were "explorers such as himself", or simply strangers passing through. I informed him that we were indeed strangers, however Léon would proceed to enthusiastically inform him that we were on a quest for King Louis to find the river Phlegethon in order to prolong his life, even going to the length of presenting the written document from our majesty himself. The stranger chuckled, and sat down next to us. He presented his own document from the king, saying that he was indeed on the same quest as us. For the next few moments, we engaged in delightfully intellectual banter about the mythos of the Greek people. It was evident he was a scholar of their esoteric beliefs. However, he informed us that he had no intention to travel to Greece, as that was simply far too costly for him. Rather, he said he knew of a ritual used by the Greeks to convert ordinary river water into that of the rivers of Hades. His intention was to travel to the Erdre and collect the water from it in order to use it in the ritual. I asked if we could accompany him to the Erdre river, to which he declared it would most certainly be unwise to do so, as our majesty must have separated us for a reason. However, he said we were more than welcome to assist him with his quest, and to rendezvous with him should the opportunity arise, assuming the Lord willed it such. He also advised us that we collect any asphodel flowers we may come across on our journey, as it will be a key ingredient in the ritual. Léon was initially resistant, believing that it was our god-given objective from King Louis to travel to Greece, however I reminded him that this could guarantee his desired status much faster than the alternative. Before we went our own separate ways, I asked for his name. "Peor", he said. Just as quickly as he arrived, he was gone. In other news, the weather was quite pleasant, and we could hear grouse and doves throughout the day. Our fire is dwindling and Léon has already begun his rest, so I suppose I shall stop here for the night. I am elated that we no longer have to travel all the way to Greece, though. I find solace in that, and I hope Léon does too. [+ DISPLAY THIRD ENTRY] [- HIDE THIRD ENTRY] Friday, 18th of April In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, I pray we will have safe travels. Early in the morning we spotted some wild fowl, and the overcast clouds that must have formed while we were resting seem to have parted. Today has been particularly troublesome. Towards the middle of the day, we approached a nearby patch of woodland to the west of Dijon. After several minutes of traversing these woods, we came upon a clearing. In the center of this otherwise inconspicuous clearing was a freshly trimmed and tended-to chrysanthemum bush. Standing before the bush was a figure clad in the garb of a knight, wielding a bident which he had plunged into the ground, and donning a horned helmet reminiscent of a wild goat. Behind his visor radiated what could only be described as an intense and unholy energy. He stood before us and spoke in a dolorous, booming voice. "Cease. There is nothing for you here, nor is there anything for you beyond my forest. I know what you seek. You seek an affront to nature itself. I cannot permit your quest to continue". I must admit, I can only take somebody who dulls their weapon by placing it in the soil but so seriously, nevertheless I still wanted no quarrel with this man. I spoke to him, saying that there must be another way to go about this. I asked him for his name in an attempt to make friendly conversation with him. "Baal", he responded. He told both Léon and I to not bother telling him our names, as he had no intention for any further words to be shared. He raised his weapons, and we drew ours. As we prepared to defend ourselves from this interloper, the head of his polearm caught aflame, only further proving my theory that this is the work of some occult magicks. We battled fiercely, but he possessed much greater finesse than myself, and even Léon himself. He parried or dodged every slash of my blade and every swing of my brothers axe. Léon and I managed to avoid any grievous injuries, thank the Lord, but after several seconds, Baal bludgeoned me with the pommel of his bident, making direct contact with my face. I stumbled back, falling disorientated, leaving my brother to fend against him alone. He swiftly knocked Léon off of his feet and raised his weapon above his chest. I tried to grab ahold of the branches of the chrysanthemum bush, snapping it off, mysteriously causing Baal to reel back in pain, temporarily sparing my brother from harm. I snapped another, intentionally this time. Baal cringed in pain once more, loudly vocalizing as he did so. He looked back and fixed his gaze on me. As he approached me, I began to saw at the base of the bush, to which he reacted by falling to his knees in pain, roaring in agony. In some pitiful effort to thwart my efforts, he rose his bident; and prepared to throw it at me. However, before he could release it, I had fully severed the bush from its stem, causing him to completely collapse on the ground, lifeless. I had slain the daemon. I helped Léon off the ground and recollect himself. We studied the idle corpse for a few moments, before quickly fleeing. I did not think much of it at the time, but I do ponder how he knew of our quest. Who could have informed him? Could Peor have told him? Perhaps an enemy plotting against our majesty? I was uncertain, and truly, it was not my place to say. Nevertheless I couldn't help but speculate. Surely this was not a matter of happenstance. The remainder of the day was largely insignificant, although towards dusk Léon and I were able to forage for a handful of asphodelus, albeit not many. Once the sun had set and the moon had risen, we decided to set up camp and rest for what remained of this temperate night. The two of us were very anxious. Baal had made us question whether or not this quest was worth it. However, my brother believes it was merely a god-given trial, and a test of our will. While that is perhaps true, it is not my place to speak for our Lord. Regardless, whatever fate would await us back at Dijon if we were to abandon our quest from the king would be far worse than any fate that could befall us here. [+ DISPLAY FOURTH ENTRY] [- HIDE FOURTH ENTRY] Saturday, 19th of April In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, I pray we will have safe travels. Our skirmish yesterday resulted in a restless night; and thus a lethargic morning. Despite this, we pressed forward, eager to complete our objective. The sky was overcast when the sun had risen and remained as such until late-evening. An hour or so after we set out once more, Léon asked me what I would do if I were to become immortal. In truth, I am unsure. I don't know if I would do anything. Of course I will be obligated to become immortal alongside my brother if he does so, but I do not know what I would do. I can only adventure with Léon for but so long. Am I perhaps cursing myself by completing this quest? Dooming myself to an extension of my already hollow, directionless life? Anything for my brother, I suppose. Regardless of my inner dialogue, I told him I would likely remain a scholar once my days exploring had concluded. He was elated to hear that I was willing to continue exploring with him. He told me that he sees many qualities of myself in him, even if they manifest in very different manners. Apparently, it would seem, he sees me as his "better half". I can't believe I would even consider denying an immortal life with him, to break his heart in such a manner. But I can't live forever. I cannot imagine such an existence. I just want him to be happy. We encountered Peor again mid-day, just as we had the first time we met. I debated confronting him about whether or not he had sicced Baal on us in an attempt to thwart our efforts, but I remained steadfast. My brother, however, was not as inhibited. He asked him if he had told anybody about our quest. Peor said he would have no reason to, as we were working cooperatively, and that he wouldn't have ever had the opportunity to do so since he hasn't come across anybody he could've told. He asked why we would confront him so suddenly. I proceeded to inform him that we were attacked by a knight wielding occult magicks and a flaming bident who went under the alias of Baal. He sympathized with our plight, saying it was very brave to continue forward even after such an encounter. He informed us that he was yet to have such a occurrence happen to him, but that he would make sure he was prepared for anything in the future. He also inquired about the status of our asphodel foraging, to which we informed him that while we had managed to collect a few, we did not know if it would be enough. After we presented him with our bounty, he assured us that our amount would be adequate. With a lively smile and a wave, he departed once more. What happened for the rest of today was generally insignificant. We encountered several wild fowl and beasts, but we did not bother them and they did not bother us. Only one event of interest had occurred towards sunset. "Fall." We turned our heads to see none other than Baal approaching us, prepared to throw his bident at me. I was reflexive enough to dodge his weapon, however before it could hit the ground, he pulled it back into his hands via unseen means. There was no mistaking it, Baal had returned to life. Needless to say, Léon and I were dramatically unprepared for sudden combat, and were still in shock that a figure we had just slain had returned to life. But we had felled him once before, nothing was stopping us from doing it once more. For a time, he held the upper-hand, blocking ostensibly every assault we attempted to lay upon him. Léon moved behind him while I stood before him, attempting to perform a backstabbing maneuver while I distracted him. It was for naught though, as Baal swiftly turned around and plunged his weapon into my brothers right shoulder, causing him to fall back. In a moment of concentrated, bitter vengeance, I targeted an exposed spot in Baal's armor, piercing the side of his neck with my blade. He dropped his weapon in shock, and I furiously shoved him onto the dirt. Before he could collect himself, I grabbed Léons axe and repeatedly slammed it upon his chest, swiftly breaking through the breastplate and chopping through his torso. In mere moments, we had slain him for the second time. I did not stop though. I kept slashing and chopping. Again and again. I was not to risk him returning to life for a third time. Once I had finished, I quickly helped my brother off the ground and inspected the wound. It did not seem too deep, although it was evident he had suffered internal and external burns as a result. In a guilty panic, I rushed to tend to his wounds. Before I could, the realization dawned upon me that I had meaninglessly dulled my brothers blade by aimlessly attacking the corpse of Baal. I profusely apologized for my misdeeds, saying that I did not intend to dull his weapon and that it was my fault he got hurt, but he reassured me that I had done no wrong. He said he could very easily sharpen the blade later, and that his "minor flesh wound" was not my fault. I chose to respond with a shallow acknowledgement of what he said, as I did not want to hurt him by still claiming that it was my fault. After further inspection of the wound, it was clear it needed to be bandaged and cleaned. He was still able to move his arm to a degree, albeit painfully. Fortunately, I had the proper equipment to treat his wound in my pack, and spent the next few minutes tending to his injury. He thanked me for saving his life, saying that it was a very brave thing to do, and that he "always knew I had the spirit of an adventurer inside of me". We decided to set up camp early tonight due to having to spar with Baal whilst we were already lethargic. Léon spent several minutes sharpening his blade before eventually falling asleep. I know I will have a restless sleep tonight. I can only help but fear our next encounter with Baal. I dread each day of this journey the more I think about it. Léon assures me we can handle it, but I doubt it. He could have perished because of me. I do not trust I will be able to save him if this happens for a third time. [+ DISPLAY FIFTH ENTRY] [- HIDE FIFTH ENTRY] Sunday, 20th of April In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, I pray we will have safe travels. Just as I had expected, I slept utterly restlessly during the night. I could hardly remain idle while plagued with the fear of that daemon. Léon rested much better than myself, enthused by the idea that after today, we would be on our final day of the journey. The weather was horribly inclement throughout the day, raining until noon, in which it began storming. An hour or two after we continued west, we heard a voice exclaim from behind us. "Cyril! Léon!" As embarrassing as it is, I was exceptionally startled by hearing somebody shout our names. I expected it to be Baal or some other individual with ill-intent. Fortunately, it was none other than Peor. He asked how our journey had gone since the last time we had met, commenting on how exhausted I appeared. We informed him of our second encounter with Baal and how he had returned to life. He seemed greatly concerned to learn of this. He said that if he had returned to life, he must be a daemon of some variety, just as I had hypothesized. Peor informed us that, if he is a daemon, that he can only be slain by his own weapon. This spurred discussion between me and Léon. We began strategizing ways to finally defeat Baal and lay him to rest. By the end of our discussion, we had planned to have Léon serve as a distraction while I fired at him with my firearm from a distance, which would provide Léon with an opportunity to steal his weapon and impale him. Once we had finished planning, Peor asked a simple request of us. He informed us that he had managed to collect every ingredient for the ritual, aside from the beak of a crow. He asked us to obtain it for him, assuming it was not too arduous of a task. We told him we would see what we could do. With that, he left us once more, wishing us safe travels. For the next three and a half hours, we timidly grew closer and closer to our destination. I had not said it to my brother, but I had begun believing this quest was not worth it. If Baal is an inevitable foe no matter what we do, why must we do anything? Why not flee now? Regardless, I knew my brother would not accept such a fate, and I found solace in the guidance Peor had offered us. Thus, we continued on. Once three and a half hours had passed, we found ourselves located amidst an empty patch of field. As the rain poured from the clouds and thunder roared above, Baal manifested before us in a burst of flames. At that moment, I lost all cowardice and fear. Standing before him alongside my brother, I knew there was no stopping us. We had defeated him twice. Thrice should not be an issue. Léon began to attack Baal from all sides as I ran to a distance, preparing my matchlock. He launched constant assaults and ripostes against Baal. It was clear he had learned his tactics and adjusted well. He managed to hold him off long enough for me to take aim from a distance. As I raised my firearm in the direction of Baal, he swung his bident through the air, releasing a mote of flame that landed before my feet, causing me to misfire. The fire did not spread and had extinguished itself at a modest pace due to the weather conditions. Thankfully, Léon was able to land a blow with his axe directly upon the side of his head. Before Baal was allowed to retaliate, I dropped my matchlock and began sprinting towards him, blade drawn. Léon and I landed blow after blow on him, slicing and chopping through his armor over and over. He stood not a chance. Once he had been unable to stand, and his weapon lay by his side, I picked it up, and plunged it deep into his chest. Once he had been impaled with his own bident, he only remained long enough to leave us with his final words, before perishing. "There is no escape". As Baal drew his last breath, Léon and I embraced in celebration. For a moment, I felt proud. Proud that Léon and I had defeated our sole opposition once and for all. We were destined for success. However this lone moment of joy was quick to fade as I became aware of what it meant to be destined for success. We were destined for immortality. I was destined for something I could never prepare for. Destined for what I can only see as a curse. I could never fathom breaking my brothers heart by denying it, though. Into oblivion I ride, I suppose. After we took a moment to celebrate our victory, Léon thought it to be a good idea to see the face of our foe. Thus, he doffed his helmet to see a wretched sight. Baal was no man. He was a daemon after all. His head was that of a goat with fur as dark as night, and pale horns as hollow as his gaze. Léon thought we should sever one of his horns to take a trophy; and to serve as a representation of our first daemon slain of what he hoped would be many. I took my blade to the base of his horn and severed it from his scalp, handing it to Léon. The remainder of the day was generally unremarkable. The skies cleared up some time after dusk, and we spent half an hour hunting for crows, to which Léon was able to target one and collect its beak. At the time of writing, the sun set over the horizon approximately an hour ago, and Léon is far too excited to rest as of now. I, however, will be going to sleep the minute I have finished retelling the events of today. Our quest ends tomorrow. Into oblivion. [+ DISPLAY SIXTH ENTRY] [- HIDE SIXTH ENTRY] Monday, 21st of April It has come. It would appear as if Léon had taken it upon himself to personally read the entries I have written thus far concerning our quest while I was asleep. This, in turn, means he has ascertained my true feelings on immortality, and our mission at large. Initially, I expected rage at worst, and disappointment at best. However, he assured me he was not mad. He told me that if I do not want to become immortal alongside him, he's okay with that. He does not want to doom me to a life I do not want, even if it means he will eventually outlive me. He told me he wants nothing more than for me to be content with the path I have chosen. I told him that I appreciated his words, and that I would try and figure something out. Maybe I will choose to be granted immortality, or maybe our highness would not allow either of us to become immortal. Regardless, I would figure something out. He asked me what I meant by that. In truth, not even I know. All I know is that I will not allow my brother to be heartbroken by my own actions. I could never. The day was largely uneventful. The weather was much less inclement than it had been the previous day, but it only took a few hours before we arrived at the river. We came upon Peor, donning a grey hooded cloak standing before some kind of improvised cauldron filled with water from the Erdre. He beckoned us and we approached him, Léon moving much faster than I. We informed him that we had collected a crows beak, just as he had asked, and informed him of the destruction of Baal. He seemed very pleased to hear of our recent success, and asked for us to place the asphodels in the water. I did as I was instructed, and Léon placed the beak in as well. Peor began to initiate the final steps, placing several items within the water that appeared utterly foreign and alien to me. In truth, they did not appear to be of this world by any means. Once he had placed everything within the cauldron, he looked back at us. "Now, gentlemen, there is only one ingredient left. We need an offering of sacrificial blood." We looked at him, startled for a moment. Then, we looked at each other. For a second, the thought of sacrificing my own brother flitted through my head, but I would never do such abhorrent acts. I could never. I would never. We looked back at him. We knew what he was attempting to do. But we are anything but common fools. We shouted, telling him he would not trick us into sacrificing the other. He stared back at us, absent-mindedly, eyes filled with more malice than should be possible. He chuckled to himself. He said it was a shame that he would have to take this matter into his own hands. Léon, as swiftly as ever, tackled Peor, bringing him to the ground. In so doing, he caused Peor's hood to slip off of his head, revealing a large scar on the side of his temple. A scar located precisely where I had severed the horn of Baal. Léons efforts would only last for so long, however. With foul strength, Peor threw him several paces back, causing him to land on his back. Before I had the opportunity to react, he manifested his bident via unseen means, and threw it directly into my brother's stomach. I would not let this stand. Not at all. In a moment of bitter vengeance and hate, I grabbed Peor by his head, and began bashing it upon the side of the cauldron. I repeated this brutal motion over and over, until his crown had split open, allowing his blood to flow into the cauldron. I tossed his lifeless corpse aside as the blood diluted the water. At first, it began to smoke and steam. Then, it began to boil and bubble. After a few moments, it returned to a more ordinary state, remaining idle in the cauldron. I looked over at my brother, barely clinging to this mortal realm, begging to consume the potion of immortality. Without a second thought, I removed the polearm from his stomach, and moved him next to the cauldron. He lowered his head towards the blood, and began to consume it. The heat of the blood left burns on his mouth and throat as it went down, causing him great distress. But it was all to be worth it, as within mere seconds, the gash in his stomach had been completely healed. However his screaming did not cease. He fell to the ground, writhing in pain, exclaiming that the boiling blood was pulsing through his body. He begged me to put him out of his misery. My own brother begged me to kill him. I looked upon a disaster of my own creation, a fate that befell my brother by my own hands. I knew I was only going to hurt him. Alas, in a moment of shock and despair, I raised my blade, and plunged it through his chest. Other than causing him pain, it seemed to do nothing, as seconds after I removed the blade, the wound had healed. I repeated my attempts at euthanasia, using my blade, his axe, and even the daemons bident. But it was for naught. It was all for not. I could not fix my own mistakes. Even after severing his head from his body, he simply healed from anything I could possibly inflict upon him. What hell had I wrought upon him? The error of my ways. The consequences of my actions. My sins. They are manifest, and Léon must bear the torment. Why? Why him? Why not me? What could he ever have done to deserve this anguish? To be cursed with immortality? How could I do this to my own brother? After everything he's done for me, this is how I repay him. He cannot even bring himself to speak anymore he's in so much pain. Some hero I am. But I can fix this. I know I can. I will find a cure. I will find a way to purge him of this curse. I will dedicate what remains of my life to doing so, if I must. It's the least I can do. The minute I am done writing this, I will head out once more to find a cure to my own wrought hell. In the name of my Lord Jesus Christ, I pray I will have safe travels. Addendum-7437-B: Interview log with SCP-7437-A-1 upon recovery. The following transcription has been translated from Late-Middle French. Interviewed: SCP-7437-A-1 Interviewer: Dr. Levasseur Foreword: Due to his erratic mannerisms, SCP-7437-A-1 has been sedated and restrained, and is communicating with Dr. Levasseur via a glass port. <Begin Log> Dr. Levasseur: Good day, SCP-7437-A-1. I hope you are okay with me calling you that. I would like to ask you a few questions, if you are willing. SCP-7437-A-1: [Unresponsive, heavily breathing] Dr. Levasseur: I believe now would be the ideal time for us to converse, since your sedatives should wear off soon. SCP-7437-A-1: [Unresponsive, wincing] Dr. Levasseur: Look, all I need to do is ask you a few questions and we can go our separate ways for… a time. SCP-7437-A-1: [Unresponsive, trembling] Dr. Levasseur: Have you anything to say, A-1? [SCP-7437-A-1 is silent for a moment, before he begins to scream and thrash.] Dr. Levasseur: A-1, please. All I need to do is- [SCP-7437-A-1 begins screaming louder.] Dr. Levasseur: A-1! SCP-7437-A-1: [Unresponsive, screaming] Dr. Levasseur: Léon! SCP-7437-A-1: [Ceases screaming, unresponsive] Dr. Levasseur: … Thank you. Now, I wa- SCP-7437-A-1: [Straining] Kill. Me. Dr. Levasseur: Pardon? What was that? SCP-7437-A-1: [Straining] You heard me. Dr. Levasseur: [Unresponsive, looks behind herself] Dr. Levasseur: Léon? [SCP-7437-A-1 looks up at Dr. Levasseur.] Dr. Levasseur: Are you… upset that I brought you here? SCP-7437-A-1: [Unresponsive] Dr. Levasseur: I'll take that as a yes, I suppose. Look… I know you don't have any hope, but I do. I really do think we can fix this. This is the final step, I'm certain of it. SCP-7437-A-1: [Scoffs] Dr. Levasseur: You… you really have that little faith, huh? SCP-7437-A-1: [Straining] I don't see why I should have any. Dr. Levasseur: I always said I would be the one to fix you, to do what those who came before me couldn't. What he couldn't. I'll finish this, Léon. Really, I promise. You have my word. SCP-7437-A-1: [Unresponsive] <End Log> Closing Statement: Further attempts to interact with SCP-7437-A-1 have proven ineffective. As of 16/4/21, research into the termination of SCP-7437-A-1 is currently ongoing. Footnotes 1. Translated from Middle French. Colloquialisms have also been translated for ease. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7437" by KingCasper, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7437. 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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padding: 2vw; } You will have thirty-seven seconds to save the world. Hopefully, you are a Foundation employee. If you are not, we are desperate. Your position is irrelevant – what matters is that you are needed, not just by the Foundation, but by humankind and potentially more. You may recall a recent blood test. You are here because you tested positive for the DBAA-e7 gene; it is extremely rare, but critical to accomplish your assignment. You may not be the only living person with this gene, but there are other limiting factors involved; assume you are the last person able to accomplish this task. Do not fail us. This introductory video should have come with four documents. First is the file for SCP-090, the anomaly you will be working on. Second is the file for SCP-7439, the anomaly you will be working with. Third is the proposal document and addenda for the cross-test you will conduct, and fourth should be the complete records of all information left to you by previous participants. If you have not been provided these, request them from the agent assigned to oversee you. If there is no agent, the situation is dire and you must find them yourself. Do not rush. Your thirty-seven seconds have not begun, and will not until you want them to. You have as much time as you need to prepare, and you may spend it however you deem appropriate, so long as you are preparing. If there is further information you believe will be relevant, request it from your assigned agent; your security clearance can be dealt with later. Your co-operation will not be classified. Once you are ready, inform the agent – or if there is none, go to Area-090, where both required anomalies should be found – and begin the test. But make sure you are ready. You will have only thirty-seven seconds to save the world. You will not get a second chance. Read the SCP-090 file. Put away the SCP-090 file. Item #: SCP-090 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-090 is currently stored in a high-security bunker at a dedicated Foundation facility, Area-090. No other anomalies are to be stored at Area-090 unless necessary, and any such anomalies must be relocated off-site as soon as possible. SCP-090 should not be stored at any other location unless necessary and should be returned to Area-090 or another dedicated facility as soon as possible. SCP-090 must never be store at any facility containing anomalies, munitions, machines, and/or technology with the potential to destroy the facility and/or instigate any K-class scenario. SCP-090 should not be physically restrained or altered for any reason. individuals attempting to do so must be apprehended or terminated as necessary. The five exposed faces of SCP-090 should be recorded at all times. AXAl.aic has been assigned to monitor and record all SCP-090 activity, and alert Foundation personnel as necessary when able. SCP-090-1 should be redacted from all visual footage of SCP-090, unless otherwise necessary. Description: SCP-090 is a collection of approximately 60,000 black ceramic fragments, tightly arranged by unknown means to form a misshapen cube 3 metres in length, width, and height; analysis indicates SCP-090 was originally a single cube, all fragments of which are present in the collection. Each fragment features a small portion of an intricate engraving on its outer surface, which appear to glow with a ‘negative light’ while correctly aligned with another complementary piece. Every 37 seconds, a single row or column of SCP-090 fragments will progressively relocate to an adjacent face of the object in a manner comparable to the ‘Rubik’s Cube’ puzzle.1 Relocating pieces – especially those aligned with complementary pieces – are resistant to these rotations, and will grind against other fragments as they pass; no evidence of erosion or degradation has been observed on any SCP-090 pieces. Once all pieces have stopped at a location adjacent to their former position, another 37 seconds will elapse before the next rotation begins. SCP-090 rotations correspond to the initiation and/or continuation of undesirable, typically catastrophic events; each outer face of the object is associated with a location or concept relative to SCP-090 (listed below), while the magnitude of the event/s correlate with the quantity of misaligned fragments on the associated face. Face # Concept Average number of alignments Example 1 ‘Global’ 73–71% Formation of Cyclone Tracey (Dec 21, 1974; 83%) 2 Uncertain 50% No known corresponding events. 3 ‘Extraterrestrial’ (Uncertain) 69-61% SCP-179 points at Uranus. (Jan 19, 2004 & onwards; 74%) 4 ‘Local’ 89-83% Major containment breach at Site-183 (Apr 5, 2017; 95%) 5 [DATA EXPUNGED] 13% [DATA EXPUNGED] 6 ‘Time’ (Uncertain) 49%2 Alleged by the Department of Chronology. (Mar 21, 2009; 37%) If an attempt is made to physically rearrange or restrain any SCP-090 fragments, the collection will immediately undergo a rapid succession of rotation events which typically reduce the number of alignments on the ‘local’ face, thereby instigating a catastrophic event in the anomaly’s proximity. The number of total alignments across SCP-090 has gradually decreased throughout its known, recorded history; all SCP-090 fragments are expected to be misaligned by March of 2099. SCP-090-1 is an unclear element correlating to the area visible within SCP-090 between misalignments and during rotation events. It is unclear whether SCP-090-1 is an indeterminate object/entity, or a property affecting the region of space within SCP-090; observers are unable to identify any meaningful characteristics of SCP-090-1 other than its location, and all recordings of SCP-090-1 similarly retain this cognitohazardous property. Acquisition: SCP-090 was acquired during a raid on an Adherents of Aapapht monastery on April 10, 1942. Recovered records indicates the group acquired the object from an unspecified group in 1533 CE, along with vague records of the object’s alignments since 1242 CE; the group had been studying SCP-090 and SCP-090-1 to determine their correlation to the group’s cosmology. All members of the group were terminated as per standard procedure, and the monastery was destroyed by fire. Read the SCP-7439 file. Put away the SCP-7439 file. Item #: SCP-7439 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7439 is to be stored in a standard hermetically-sealed relic container when not in use. Personnel should minimise handling of SCP-7439 to prevent accidental damage or destruction of the object. Foundation medical personnel must be forewarned prior to any use of SCP-7439 and given appropriate time to prepare an emergency blood transfusion for the object’s intended user/s. SCP-7439 should always be kept on a flat surface during testing to prevent damage when subjects lose consciousness. SCP-7439 must be cleaned using appropriate relic protocols following every use. Description: SCP-7439 is a fired clay tablet 15 centimetres in height, 32 centimetres in width, and weighing approximately 2 kilograms. The upper surface is engraved with a large, inverted triangle, with a unique, intricate rune at each of the three vertices; a fourth glyph has been carved into the centre of the shape post-firing. A severely damaged Akkadian cuneiform text is inscribed on the lower surface, which translations indicate was instructions on the correct ritualistic use of the anomaly. SCP-7439 enables eligible individuals to conduct a series of specific thaumaturgic rituals, with the produced affect varying on which of the four engraved glyphs is incorporated into the performed ritual/s. To be eligible, the user must: Be a single, biologically living human (homo sapiens); Possesses the DBAA-e7 gene in their genome (approx. 7.0% world population); Have at no point received any volume of whole blood3 or constituents originating from a different entity by invasive means (e.g. blood transfusion, limb transplantation).4 During use, approximately 50mL of whole blood will demanifest from the eligible user’s system each second; as a result the average human is unable to use SCP-7439 for more than 40 consecutive seconds, at which point loss of consciousness will occur and an immediate blood transfusion is required for survival, which will invalidate the user from any future use of the object. If a user becomes ineligible while using SCP-7439, the anomalous properties of the object will immediately cease. There are currently only five known rituals which produce a successful anomalous effect with SCP-7439: Ritual Designation / Alias Description 7439-1, ‘Second Rite of Bellabarisruk’ Amplifies the potency of all carnomancy,5 oneiroimancy,6 or tychemancy7 conducted within seven metres of SCP-7439 while active, dependant on which of the three outer glyphs is used as the focus of the ritual; what the inner glyph corresponds to, if anything, is unknown. 7439-2, ‘Crimson Mandate of Shamash’ Enables the user to establish a potent blood pact with another consenting party, violations of which incur one of four penalties depending on which glyph is used as the focus of the ritual; while the penalties of the upper three symbols are known, there is no record of any subject breaking a pact made with the lowermost glyph. 7439-3 ‘Arbitration of the Three’ Incrementally alters an unclear, fundamental aspect of targeted objects or entities toward one of four uncertain concepts, depending on the focal glyph. Current speculations for the concepts are: ‘confusion’, ‘obedience’, ‘absconsion’, and ‘tractate’. 7439-4, ‘Judgement of Namtar’ Inflicts accelerated tumour development, petrification, necrosis, or cardiac arrythmia in an entity designated through the use of a hair sample; descriptions indicate the ritual is intended to kill the target over several hours, however it is impossible to maintain long enough for this to occur. 7439-5 (Unknown) Reconstructed through trial-and-error with references to a proto-Sarkic grimoire. Revives a deceased biological entity, but inflicts multiple physical and/or mental ailments which invariably result in the entity’s death within 24 hours. Acquisition: SCP-7439 was recovered from the National Museum of Scotland following a curator’s accidental activation of the anomaly while demonstrating the execution of a ritual. Records indicate the tablet had been donated to the museum in 1805 as part of the late Sir Edwin Young, 3rd Baronet’s personal ‘Cabinet of Curiosities’, who had acquired the item in 1654 under unclear circumstances; his documentation of seventeen rituals – four of which have been confirmed – indicates contact with a knowledgeable previous owner of SCP-7439, or access to a significant information source. Baronet Young was not aware of the object’s anomalous properties, instead dismissing the rituals as products of myth. It is uncertain whether Baronet Young possessed the DBAA-e7 gene needed to trigger the object’s effects. Read the cross-test proposal. Put away the cross-test proposal. Someone has attached a note to the cover page. To save you some time: It takes almost 2 litres of blood to use the Tablet for 37 seconds. You’ll need a blood transfusion then. You only have one chance, and you have to finish before the Cube starts turning. The ritual is on page 17, and you need to repeat it for each glyph. Always enter exactly seven glyphs. Every one you miss is worse than getting it wrong. Same for doing extra. Alignments will increase by 3% if you did the right glyph, and decrease by 3% if you didn’t. Record your order and the change in alignments so the next person can figure out how many you got right. The Cube won’t react until its next rotation comes, since you aren’t changing it physically. It’ll catch up and do a full month’s worth of changes after, though. The Foundation is already nervous cross-testing two anomalies, they won’t bring in a third. You don’t get augments to help with this. Good luck. Read the notes left by previous participants. Say you are ready. Change your mind. ‘Are you sure?’ the agent asks. Say you are sure. Footnotes 1. There is no evidence of any connection between Ernő Rubik and SCP-090. Despite similarities in appearance and mechanics, the ‘Rubik’s Cube’ puzzle was developed completely independently to SCP-090. 2. This average has steadily declined by approximately 2% per year. 3. Encompassing red blood cells, white blood cells, platelets, and blood plasma. 4. This exclusion appears to be conceptual instead of literal; subjects will naturally remove and replace all foreign whole blood elements over time, but will remain unable to activate the properties of SCP-7439. 5. Manipulation of biological substances, particularly skin, muscle, and bone. 6. Manipulation/interpretation of dreams. 7. Manipulation of probability. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7439" by Jack Ike, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7439. 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-7440 | safe | Item#: 7440 Level4 Containment Class: safe Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: warning link to memo The entrance to SCP-7440 Special Containment Procedures: A 30 meter perimeter surrounding SCP-7440 is to be maintained at all times, only personnel briefed on Protocol 4000-ESHU are permitted to enter SCP-7440. Anyone exiting SCP-7440 is to undergo memetic and nomenclative decontamination to prevent any further injury. As there is currently no known way to exit SCP-7440 past the second floor, only D-Class personnel are to be sent inside. Description: SCP-7440 is a bunker located within the Ireland Wood Forest, England, built into the side of a hill. SCP-7440 consists of 5 levels descending 11 meters into the ground, mostly constructed with wood and concrete. According to radiocarbon dating, SCP-7440 was built in the late 1700s, though the structure seems to have been repurposed and further added to sometime in the late 1800s. SCP-7440's floors are heavily infused with thaumaturgic and nomenclative hazards, significantly impeding efforts to study the structure. Most notable of these hazards is one causing the degradation of anything containing 2 or more grams of iron.This effect extends to organic matter.; while it is theorized that this hazard was remarkably more potent in the past, due to a lack of maintenance it has become significantly less dangerous. Addendum 7440.1: SCP-7440's Floors SCP-7440's first floor appears to be purposely constructed so as to look abandoned in order to conceal the floors below it, consisting of a single room lined with crude furniture and racks containing empty ration packs. Underneath one of the racks is a wooden hatch leading into the second sublevel, analysis has determined this hatch used to be infused with a nomenclative lock, requiring the utterance of one's name in order for it to be opened; however, this lock seems to have been bypassed through unknown means, as the hatch was found to have been forcibly opened. SCP-7440's second floor consists of a currently unknown number of rooms, as the structure seems to be affected by a spatial anomaly. Entering the floor through the hatch leads to a random room with a door, window, or other means of exit, which invariably leads to another random room within the floor. Numerous rooms contain humanoid cadavers displaying conditions consistent with nomenclative breaches. Only one of the rooms within the floor is known to contain a true exit; a large, crudely made, hole in the floor dug out by an unknown party. SCP-7440's third floor has been thaumaturgically enchanted in order to appear as a large forest with incredibly limited visibility. The floor's actual size is currently unknown, as attempting to navigate it invariably induces confusion and causes subjects to become lost within the room. Multiple deceased humanoids have been found within the floor, attempting to give a designation to those who died here results in intense migraines. The bodies were found to be holding rudimentary thaumaturgic weaponry, along with runes presumed to have been used for defensive purposes. A hatch leading to the fourth floor is hidden underneath shrubbery, the object has been forcibly opened in a similar manner to the first floor's hatch. SCP-7440's fourth floor consists of three small interconnected rooms. Two of these rooms seem to have been used to store rations and grow crops utilizing thaumaturgy. These rooms contain 15 corpses of previous occupants, all found to have been coated with an unknown rust-like substance. The third room is accessed via a broken wooden door, consisting of a hole with a wooden ladder leading to the fifth floor. SCP-7440's fifth floor is a small, dilapidated room containing a crude, unlit fireplace, along with the decayed remains of ten humanoids. Analysis of the cadavers suggests the cause of death was from numerous stab wounds. Items found within the fireplace seem to correspond with the ritual required to enter the undesignated plane, though numerous components are missing. Found next to the fireplace is a felled operative, identification found on the agent corresponds to an outdated task force known to be the precursor to MTF Alpha-1 ("Red Right Hand"). ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7440" by MrBonesWildRide, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7440. 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-BUNKER Author: Alaska Region U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service License: Public Domain Source Link: https://www.flickr.com/photos/usfws_alaska/39022969014 |
SCP-7441 | thaumiel | SCP-7441: I fucking hate horses Author: Deadly Bread Other Articles of Mine SCPs SCP-4966 Rating: 725 SCP-1401-EX Rating: 303 SCP-4052 Rating: 257 SCP-4088 Rating: 234 SCP-5522 Rating: 215 SCP-4109 Rating: 212 SCP-7441 Rating: 137 SCP-5020 Rating: 124 SCP-4035 Rating: 120 SCP-4286 Rating: 119 SCP-4664 Rating: 115 SCP-4270 Rating: 114 SCP-7966 Rating: 107 SCP-3462 Rating: 100 SCP-6663 Rating: 95 SCP-5693 Rating: 63 SCP-6633 Rating: 61 SCP-4570 Rating: 60 SCP-5261 Rating: 59 SCP-444-J Rating: 53 page 1 of 212next » Tales Something Glowing Rating: 180 Log Of Extranormal Events, Vol II Rating: 37 Prelude To Presents Rating: 24 The Bears Rating: 16 Your Memory Forever Seen Rating: 13 Other SCP-005 Proposal Hub Rating: 94 The Bread Box Rating: 92 Secure Facility Dossier: Reliquary Area-27 Rating: 87 Experiment Log-4035 Rating: 71 Collab Articles SCPs Page Title Co-Author SCP-4733 But Not Forgotten Lamentte SCP-5225 The Abyss Stares Back XilasCrowe SCP-5785 Craptivism Sonderance SCP-5993 We want you to come visit Heaven, just don't fuck with those bees ch00bakka Tales Page Co-Author The Bathrooms Wiki Too many to list Snippets of an Unveiled World Nykacolaquantum does not match any existing user name, Lt Flops, IFBench, Westrin Gone, Lamentte Your Imaginary Friend Fishish Check out Deadly Bread's Author Page ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} ITEM NUMBER: SCP-7441 LEVEL 4/7441 CONTAINMENT CLASS: THAUMIEL RESTRICTED Standard method of enacting SCP-7441 [Redacted per Ethics Committee request] Special Containment Procedures: Following recent discoveries regarding SCP-7441's perceived limits, on-site testing of SCP-7441 has been postponed indefinitely by Ethics Committee fiat. Further employment of SCP-7441 for use in unrelated research efforts has been limited to methods not covered under Ethics Committee Mandate #117 (regarding the mass exploitation of sentient anomalies), such as ethical euthanization. Description: SCP-7441 is an anomalous method of enhancing measured intelligence through equine violence. While this increase is largely temporary, its effects have been found useful in dealing with accounting, scientific, security, and secretarial work by the Department of Productivity. The exact ratio of harm to mental cognition is currently unknown, however it is believed to be proportional; the complexity and scale of violence a person engages in, the greater increase of cognition experienced, albeit with diminishing returns. Addendum.7441.1: Included below is an extremely truncated record of SCP-7441 tests conducted by Head Researcher Lloyd Haverstrom. Haverstrom was chosen due to ver self-reported lack of empathy towards horses following the resignation of five researchers previously assigned to the project. Subject: Assistant Researcher Byford Stated Goal: Baseline test to determine the average increase of mental acuity. Manner of Violence: Horse was punched in the ribs with moderate force. Result: Attending medical personnel noted that Byford was quick to assess and diagnose the injuries he sustained following the horse's retaliation. Subject: Financial Advisor Kerr Stated Goal: Deal with the increased load of financial strain recently put on Foundation resources. Manner of Violence: Ten horses were placed within a decommissioned public bus, which was sealed, outfitted with explosives, and remotely piloted into a canyon. Result: Kerr was able to file the complete expense reports for both Foundation Site-66 and 53 within the hour, the latter of which being historically difficult to budget for given its focus on SCP-7441 testing. Subject: Containment Associate Ulysses Stated Goal: Outline the future containment efforts of Lunar Area-32. Manner of Violence: Several horses were placed in a high-g centrifuge temporarily acquisitioned from the Department of Space Exploration, originally meant for testing the effects of extreme gravitational force on anomalous materials. Experiment lasted for approximately thirty minutes, as personnel wanted to ensure the total compaction of all equine present. Result: Ulysses was reported to have finalized the containment reports for multiple Keter-class anomalies in the hours following the experiment, as well as drafting a lengthy report regarding the potential launch physics of SCP-6663. The Department of Space Exploration has politely declined offers to return the centrifuge despite multiple attempts at cleaning the interior. Subject: Lead Theological Consultant Boyd Stated Goal: Further advance personal religious studies and scientific research. Manner of Violence: Fifty horses were placed in a sealed containment chamber which was filled with cryogenic fluid. Each of these horses was then individually removed and shattered via high-speed impact with a metal anvil. Due to Boyd's religious background, they were explicitly requested not to perform any funeral rites to prevent the horses from going to heaven. Result: Boyd made significant progress on their report regarding the connection between insects and theological anomalies, although said progress was markedly less notable than previous experiments. Attempts to determine if the benefits of SCP-7441 have plateaued are underway. Registration by Boyd for on-site psychological counseling following testing has been deemed to be unrelated. Subject: Head Researcher Haverstrom Stated Goal: Determine a way of breaching SCP-7441's projected limit. Manner of Violence: Approximately five-hundred horses were dropped by Haverstrom into a machine similar in construction to an oversized trash compactor, retrofitted to act as both a rock crusher and meat grinder by the Foundation Engineering Department.1 Duration of the experiment became much longer than anticipated, as the device required repeated maintenance due to the unforeseen rigidity of horse cadavers. Result: Head Researcher Haverstrom has resigned from the SCP-7441 project. Comments: "This was a bad idea." Footnotes 1. Requests by the department regarding the potential usage of the machine were denied. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7441" by Deadly Bread, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7441. 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: honse.png Name: Logo of the SCP Foundation Author: Far2 License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-7442 | apollyon | No More Second Chances. close Info X SCP-7442: Extinction, Her Noble Warriors Author: Arclund ⚠️ Content warning: Body Horror, Fungus, Parasitism, Maiming, Gore, Suicide ⚠️ content warning BY ORD3R OF ERROR The 4ol1owing fil3 is Level 4/7442 class-fied. Unauthorized acces-Overridden. 7442 Item#: 7442 Level4 Containment Class: keter Secondary Class: apollyon Disruption Class: amida Risk Class: critical link to memo No More Second Chances. The following file may contain out-of-date information and is being revie- Upload Commencing. For a brief moment, the ocean flared green worldwide, an algae bloom of unprecedented proportions. An earthquake shook apart the Golden Gate. A wildfire consumed kilometers of palm oil plantations in Indonesia yet left the nearby jungle unharmed. Snow buried Cairo and clung on for days. We should have recognized the patterns for what they were. Our first and only warning. That she had grown tired of us. Yet, we were too blind to see the connections. Too used to the world rebelling against Human interference. If you are reading this, know that you have to do better. [] HER STONE SKIN HER BILLOWING BREATH HER ICHTHYIC ICHOR HER FIRST AND LAST HER STOLEN SPARK HER Her Stone Skin Entry Uploading 17% [] Defunct Prometheus Lab Bunker Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7442 SCP-7442-Gamma, resides within a defunct Prometheus Labs bunker just south of the Chicxulub Crater on the Yucatan Peninsula, Mexico. Amnestics are authorized for use on civilians within 200 meters of the bunker's entrance. The surrounding area is designated as government property. The anomaly is contained within an organically constructed cavern, held in place by a mixture of thaumaturgic runes and mechanized chains made from an unknown polymer. The chains are in a constant state of self-repair and must be checked daily for any signs of lasting degradation. As a precaution, individuals with Thaumic abilities should remain within the presence of wards three or more times a week. Baseline empowering rituals should keep the wards steady until the bunker's hidden thaumic generator is discovered. MTF Zeta-9 "Molerats" and MTF Eta-5 "Jäeger Bombers" are onsite. The former is to continue the exploration of the bunker and the dialogue with SCP-7442-Gamma. The latter are on call if the entity breaches its current containment. Description: SCP-7442-Gamma, is a rough-hew stone statue with jade eyes that contain an internal radiance, of an unknown species of Ceratopsian, with features combining Triceratops horridus1, Styracosaurus albertensis2, and Pachyrhinosaurus canadensis3. The entity has since been classified as a Thaumic LSA(Large-Scale Aggressor). Sketch of SCP-7442-Gamma It stands 19 meters tall and is approximately double that in length. It weighs upwards of 181 metric tons. Its body is composed of various earth minerals but resembles suevites4 in appearance. Outside of its restraints, the entity is capable of a full breadth of motile functions, including lying down, standing, and even rearing on its hind legs. The entity has thaumaturgic control over stones, sands, clays of various chemical makeup, and numerous ferrous and nonferrous metals. The true breadth of its geokinetic abilities is unknown at this time. Yet, it can mold and shape the aforementioned materials into several forms, setting them into motion without any outward signs of concentration. Update To Entry: SCP 7442-Gamma: The entity's destructive capability far outstripped initial estimates. Defensive capabilities enable it to shift its chemical composition to mimic a number of metals and minerals, as well as transmute the stone around it to mimic the same properties. These include numerous toxic heavy metals, which appear to have a heightened deleterious effect on humans in their vicinity. Its geokinetic abilities are found to directly terraform the land surrounding it up to fifty kilometers away, with the most common examples being earthquakes exceeding 9.0 on the Richter Scale. It can comprehend and communicate in at least twelve different languages, including languages that resemble reconstructions of proto-Mayan, Yucatec Mayan, Spanish, English, and French. Following a number of odd weather phenomena, the Foundation was drawn to Cicxulub Puerto following a Category 6.3 earthquake. Initial Investigations led to the discovery of the bunker. The bunker was previously hidden by the usage of an unknown memetic agent that has since become inoperable. Foundation personnel have begun converting the bunker into a working base of operations while mapping out the numerous defunct tunnels. Initial estimates have the bunker covering at least twenty hectares. Incident Reports, Initial Discovery, and Interrogation Logs are as follows: Climate Crisis Incident Reports. 8 June 202█ Oceans across the globe experience brief but expansive algae bloom that color large sections a deep jade green for a period of one week—signs of environmental interference at the hands of anomalous entities or GOI under investigation. 16 June 202█ A category 8.5 earthquake strikes the Bay Area doing considerable structural damage to the Golden Gate Bridge, which has been closed for reconstruction. Initial investigation has it being a nonanomalous occurrence. 14 July 202█ A wildfire in Indonesia consumes several palm oil plantations. Approximately 56 hectares. Notably, the surrounding jungle is left largely untouched. Preliminary investigation places blame on unseasonably dry conditions and speculation of eco-terrorism. 23 Oct. 202█ 30.48 centimeters of snow blankets the Egyptian cities of Cairo, Alexandria, and Giza, and uncommonly chill temperatures(-7.22222°C) see it remain for around five days. The occurrence is believed to follow the increasing pattern of climate fluctuations and is not from an anomalous source. 16 Dec. 202█ A category 6.3 earthquake strikes Chicxulub Puerto. Residents reported that a bunker had "appeared overnight" on the nearby beach following the earthquake. MTF Zeta-9 is sent to investigate. + Discovery of SCP-7442-Gamma: Upload 85%, Data Corruption Detected - Hide Initial Prometheus Labs Bunker Exploration/Discovery of SCP-7442 Date: 18 Dec. 202█ Exploration Team: MTF Zeta-9 Subject: PL Containment Bunker Sysiphun-3 Team Lead: Commander Gregor Jakobson Team Members: Agent Eliza Amata (Demolitions), Agent Malik Waller (Tech), Agent Dacey Morales (Thaumaturge). This log is a collection of footage from the agents' body cameras. [BEGIN LOG] The four agents are standing outside the entrance to the bunker. In the distance, Foundation crews can be seen setting up the perimeter fence. Agent Amata is checking the entrance itself. The Commander and Agent Morales are overlooking Agent Waller as he examines something set into the sand. Commander Jakobson: Right, we take this slow. Interior might still be unstable from the quake, and I don't want to go down as the Rat that got his squad KIA by rock fall. Agent Waller: Still looking to find Valhalla, unlike the rest of us vermin, eh Cap? A few of the other agents laugh as Agent Waller bends down to investigate a cylindrical object sticking out of the sand a meter from the exterior of the bunker. Commander Jakobson: I did not come as far as I have to die to such indignity. Now tell me what you've found, Waller. Agent Waller: Would you take 'I don't know' as a fulfilling answer? Jakobson stares flatly at Waller Agent Waller: Didn't think so. Well, so far as my little friend here and I can figure- He holds up the built-in scanner attached to his wrist. Agent Waller: These are memetic perception filters with a funny little maker's mark. He tugs the cylinder out of the ground, frayed wires emerging from the sand, and holds it out to the commander. On the side is a set of hands holding a flame surrounding an atom. Commander Jakobson: Prometheus Labs. Morales, take a look. Agent Morales accepts the perception filter and turns it over, hands faintly shimmering with light. She looks up and shakes her head. Agent Morales: Dead, maybe from the quake or perhaps for a while, but whatever energy might have been placed in these is long gone. The commander nods towards the entrance. Commander Jakobson: And the bunker? Kneeling, she places her hands against the ground, breathing in deeply, and her eyes are caught briefly shining green in the camera. She looks up to the commander. Agent Morales: There is definitely something down there, a ward, I think, but what it's holding back, I won't be able to tell till we get closer. Commander Jakobson: Right, Amata, status? Agent Amata: Think she's sturdy, Boss. If I have to bust out a Boomer or two, maybe not so sturdy. Gonna need eyes on all her nooks and crannies. Since she's still sealed up tight, probably gonna be looking at the foul stuff. Commander Jakobson: Right, masks up and oxygen running, people. Odin willing, I want to be back topside by dinnertime. Agent Waller: Oh, to have your confidence, sir. Commander Jakobson: Can it, Waller. The bunker's interior is caked in rust, the floor covered in the faintest hint of groundwater, and stalactites reach down from the ceiling. A light flickers at the end of a long hallway leading down to a flight of stairs. Agent Waller: So, anything we should know about Prometheus before we delve too far down, sir? Such as if they enjoy traps like some of our other playmates? Commander Jakobson: Not sure, but if they are, be mindful. It's certain to be something cutting edge even with all this decay. Agent Amata: Cutting edge in what sense, Boss? Commander Jakobson: Take your pick. They were mad scientists always attempting to push the boundaries of what was possible. Biological, mechanical, and thaumatological, they had thumbs in every pie they could find and then some. Supposedly figured out stable time travel before they went under. Sold to damn near everyone: GOC, Insurgency, Mana, everyone 'cept us. Far as I recall, we never came to blows, even took on staff after they went under, but I wouldn't call us friends. Agent Amata: You say that like the Foundation has friends, Cap. Commander Jakobson: Touché. Miss them, though. They kept things simple. Agent Waller: You just said they were time travelers. Jakobson chuckles and shakes his head. Commander Jakobson: You knew what you were getting into, unlike some of the new blood, like the damn Fif- Agent Morales: Commander. Agent Morales points her flashlight at a decayed mural resting above the stairs. It depicts the Foundation logo held within the Promethean flame with smeared writing underneath it outside of the words Sysiphun-3. Agent Amata: What was that about knowing what you were getting? As the team crested the steps, a series of sleek automated turrets had dropped from the ceiling and opened fire. The next thirty minutes of footage are unusable due to the rapid movement and gunfire. Clarity returns to find the MTF standing in a central laboratory. A set of large metal tables rests in the center of the room, covered in moldering paper and aged books. A large door sits between two large tinted windows in the center of the far wall. Several computer terminals rest against the left and righthand walls. Agent Waller has opened one up and is busy with the internal wiring. Commander Jakobson is patching Agent Amata against one of the tables. Agent Amata has received a wound to the knee and upper abdomen—Commander Jakobson to the shoulder and his right forearm. Agent Morales stands before one of the tinted windows, staring outward, her camera catching her reflection with fresh damage across her chest armor. Agent Waller: Work you fu- There is a spark, and power is restored to the room. The computer terminals flash on, bathing the room in blue light, and the sound of air beginning to funnel into the room picks up. Agent Waller shakes his hands and starts rapidly typing at the computer. Agent Waller: Let's see what we have… After a few keystrokes, holographic displays begin to spark to life, guttering, and many failing, but all of them are filled with depictions of natural disasters, extinction events, and ecology trends. Agent Waller: Looks like they tried to wipe whatever notes they had before leaving this place. Can try and salvage what's left. Commander Jakobson: Anything we can bring back is better than nothing, Morales. What have you got? She turns to look at him, her hands pressed flat against the glass, once more her eyes flaring briefly green on the camera. Agent Morales: Whatever they were working on is beyond this door, enough thaumic energy bleeding through to make my teeth ache. Commander Jakobson: Which means we've likely got some form of pissed-off Skip waiting for us on the other side. Agent Waller: So, we're gonna do like every Molerat ever, and die on our feet, right Cap? Agent Waller sits at the terminal for approximately three minutes before finding the door controls. As he enters the code, a holographic message flairs across the windows before Agent Morales. ?N/GA1A;8!0 Reaching For Fire Ever Got Us Burned. Begone Icarus. Before You Send the Boulder Rolling Back Down the Hill. Too Many Doors Lie Open. Do Not Step Through. You Open the Road To Ex7>,!tN8'?W [] The message collapses into fracturing code, and the door slides open. The Agents enter with weapons raised. Inside is a broad, natural cavern, and in the middle, amid a circle of glowing green runes and chained by twitching shackles of shifting polymer, is the vast stature of a ceratopsian dinosaur. Agent Amata: A statue? Agent Waller: Well…it was nice knowing all of you. Commander Jakobson: Cut the chatter. Morales? Agent Morales has taken several steps further into the room. Her rifle lowers, eyes locked on the large entity, one hand reaching out as if to touch it. Commander Jakobson: Morales! She turns, blinking in confusion, back towards the rest of the MTF. Shifting stone echoes about the cavern as the entity opens its eyes, revealing two glowing pieces of jade. Commander Jakobson: Skítur. Back up! The MTF raises its weapons as the entity shifts its stance, pulling at the shifting chains and lowering its head to look closer at the retreating Morales. It opens its beak and begins to speak, a low rumbling voice echoing about the cavern. Morales perks up as it changes language. Commander Jakobson: What is it saying? Agent Morales: Hello. [END LOG] After the initial contact, the team leaves the bunker and reports its findings to the lead researcher, Dr. Erende. The decision is made for the team to reenter the bunker and attempt to open a dialogue with the entity after examinations show no sign of memetic influence. It appears to understand attempts to converse with it yet prefers responding in Yucatec Mayan, with Agent Morales functioning as a translator. + Initial Interview: Upload Complete - Hide Interviewed: SCP-7442-Gamma. Interviewer: Agent Dacey Morales Foreword: Initial interrogation of SCP-7442-Gamma. <Begin Log, 9:30, 18 Dec. 202█> SCP-7442-Gamma is seen testing its restraints before looking up to stare at the returning team. Agent Morales: Do you understand me? SCP-7442-Gamma: Yes. Agent Morales: How is that? How are you able to speak? SCP-7442-Gamma: Through Her and through You. Your ancestors spoke through wind, upon wave, and before crackling fire. Their voices resonate still deep beneath the Earth. Agent Morales: Are you a guardian of this Land? SCP-7442-Gamma: I am this Land and its guardian. All Land. Her stone skin given purpose. Agent Morales: Who is this "her" you speak of? SCP-7442-Gamma: The One From Whence We All Came, Child of Prometheus. Agent Morales is silent for a moment, turning to look at the rest of the team. Agent Morales: Do you mean Ixchel, Mother Nature? The entity shifts its stance, stepping closer as if attempting to see her better. The chains retract after getting within five meters of her. SCP-7442-Gamma: You do not wear their mark. They did not listen. Will these listen? I cannot hear Her. It…is it already, too… The entity rambles softly to itself for another minute. The other members, looking to Morales as the entity seems increasingly agitated. Agent Morales: We are not from Prometheus Labs, if that is what you are wondering. Did they put you here? The entity turns back to her slowly. SCP-7442-Gamma: No, they found me here and locked me away behind whispered words and aberrant locks. It takes one of the chains in its beak. SCP-7442-Gamma: I was not yet ready. It was not yet Time. But I could feel what they had done. How they betrayed Her. Agent Morales: Betrayed her how? The entity stares at her silently. Agent Morales looks to the others, the commander nodding for her to continue their original line of questioning. Agent Morales: What are you? SCP-7442-Gamma sighs and closes its eyes. The cavern begins to rumble and draw inward towards the entity. The MTF raise their weapons, but the rumbling ceases, the drawn rocks rolling to a stop as it reopens its eyes. SCP-7442-Gamma: Once I was simply the last of my kind, I did not understand what had happened. By Her hand, I was made to be more. Agent Morales: And what are you now? SCP-7442-Gamma: Waiting. Agent Morales: For? SCP-7442-Gamma closes its eyes once more and becomes still, a gentle rumble shaking the cavern as its feet appear to root in place. <End Log, 9:42, 18 Dec. 202█> Closing Statement: Following the interview, the decision was made to delve deeper into Sysiphun-3, seeking to recover any further information that Prometheus Labs had left behind and continue observation and containment of SCP-7442-Gamma. Her Billowing Breath Entry Uploading 33% [] Error Data Breach Ongoing: Major File Corruption. Re:SUBJECT To: U8?1F)0 From: Dr. Elisabet Subject: Subject Delta. O-ur work here-compl.ted. The final lock turned to contain yet another of her w-ar10[;. The boulder cont-8YJ-s rolling up. We need s—ply set T1Resius and pray that Iracus never interfere. The Deucal-8[1hjshf7!-must continue.0818829!) must attempt to catch the Wind. Youngest Chil0". B1-t3r Bor0-eus.Typ0n Protocols still in 8uh!:?. If we fail: EXTINCTION AR!SES. We have long chain3ed FIRE our for-7;-earer's gift. We will-)042(-what has begun. Description: SCP-7442-Delta resembles a male Homo neanderthalensis, dressed in white furs and pelts, wearing a mask shaped to look like an antlered Bubo scandiacus5. Closer inspection reveals that the entity is actually formed of tightly circuiting wind currents, excluding its luminescent jade eyes. Sketch of SCP-7442-Delta It has been found to disincorporate and incorporate in less than a second. Starting in a standing position, it has been found to move at speeds up to 300 km per hour. The upper thresholds of its speed are not yet known. Offensive capabilities include the spontaneous manifestations of EF5 winds on top of various weather phenomena, the creation of embolisms in human bloodstreams, and the explosive depressurization of an individual's lungs. The entity has a preference for cold weather events. It has produced gusts of glacial wind that have been recorded to match -195.8°C. This anomalous wind notably only damages non-organic material, namely manmade structures, excluding human flesh. Mass pollination events occur following SCP-7442-Delta’s departure from an area. The entity is impervious to harm by nonanamolous weaponry. Thaumic abilities seem to be able to stave it off but have not been found to do long-term damage. It shows the same linguistic abilities as SCP-7442-Gamma, though it is theorized that it understands all known spoken languages, as Agents reported that they heard their native tongue when it spoke. Approximately three months into the containment of SCP-7442-Gamma, Sysiphun-3 came under siege following a breakthrough in the investigation of the site's databanks. The Salvaged Information, Containment Breach, and ensuing Incident Reports are as follows: Salvaged Sysiphun Data High-Priority Investigation: Foundation Cooperation: Sysiphun-3 shows signs of an agreement between the Foundation and Prometheus Labs. All information regarding said agreement has been scrubbed from Foundation Systems. (Running Trace for any information regarding this "Deal," Primary Priority.) SCP-7442-Gamma: Information pulled from salvaged files has been integrated into the Foundation file. Referred to in PL documentation as a "Typhon-Class" Thaumic Entity. (I'm running a trace on "Typhon-Class," but the bunker's systems are still not even working at 20%, Secondary Priority) Subject Delta: Another "Typhon-Class Entity. All other information is currently too degraded to scrub for information. (Tertiary Priority) Dr. Elisabet: The scientific lead in charge of the Sysiphun Protocol. Outside of heavily degraded emails, information is scarce. Project Tiresias: Cordons of Perception Filters, alloys used in manufacturing, show that they were meant to last for centuries, if not millennia. They produced a cognitohazardous signal powerful enough to evade Foundation sensors for at least several decades, if not longer, on top of more localized sensory filters. (The other bunkers are likely situated with similar cordons). SCP-7442-?: An organic substance recovered from within one of the defunct Tiresias Perception Filters. Tests are Ongoing. Low-Priority Investigation: Sysiphun-3: A containment bunker and research facility meant to protect Subject Gamma from discovery by other Typhon-Class Thaumic Entities. Sysiphun-2: Similar facility, occupant currently unknown. (Running Trace on Location, fragmented data places it somewhere in Shanghai Municipality. Sysiphun-1: Yet another facility, occupant currently unknown.(Running Trace on Location, data heavily damaged, current estimates: Eastern Seaboard of the United States.) Unnamed Prometheus Labs Facility: File degradation is severe at the time of reporting, yet what little could be uncovered places the facility somewhere within Los Angeles. Project Deucal: Another facet of the Sysiphun Protocol, files are heavily degraded at the time of reporting. (I'm not even sure if that is the correct file name.) + Sysiphun-3 Containment Breach: Upload Complete - Close Date: 21 March 202█ Subject: SCP-7442-Gamma On-Site Staff: Dr. Armando Erende (Current Site Lead.), Commander Gregor Jakobson(Site Defense), Agent Eliza Amata(Exploration Lead), Agent Malik Waller (Tech), Agent Dacey Morales(Thaumaturge), Agent Bernard "Briar" McDaren (MTF-Eta-5 Member). [BEGIN LOG] Looking disgruntled, Dr. Erende enters the central lab, joining Commander Jakobson, Agent McDaren, and Agent Waller. The latter is situated at the main table, an expansive computer system linking to several of the built-in terminals. The others are located next to the observation windows. SCP-7442-Gamma can be seen beyond, lying down. Dr. Erende: You required my presence? Agent Waller: That I did, Doc. He nods at the computers, where a program is nearing completion. Agent Waller: Nearly done scrubbing another bit of PL's Dirty Laundry, which is just the cherry on top since I've got the report you were waiting for regarding the Tiresias. He slides a file down the table towards Dr. Erende. The doctor takes it and looks at the other two individuals in the room. Dr. Erende: Why are you two here? Commander Jakobson: Waller claims the information he scrounged is a security concern. Agent McDaren: Following orders, sir. He taps the glass, and SCP-7442-Gamma can be seen briefly looking in their direction. Agent McDaren: Have to keep an eye on our peacekeeper, don't we? Dr. Erende looks toward one of the monitors showing the inside of SCP-7442-Gamma's containment chamber. Seated on the ground before it is Agent Morales and a chessboard. Dr. Erende: She's still in there? Commander Jakobson: Rituals take time. Especially if you are required to disguise it as a game. That ward fails… Agent Waller: No fucking clue what happens. She answers its questions, works her mojo, and it stays calm. Dr. Erende: Highly irregular. Commander Jakobson: I don't like it either, sir. But it's the best the Seers have for us at the moment. Dr. Erende: I would think finding the facility's power center would take precedence. Commander Jakobson: Agent Amata is currently leading another foray as we speak. Prometheus built this place like a maze. Dr. Erende nods and opens the file, looking over the information Agent Waller had uncovered. Dr. Erende: So these weren’t constructed to keep out civilians or other Groups of Interest? Agent Waller: Not even us, their bedeviled Icarus, no, this was meant to keep out something they classified as a "Typhon-Class" Thaumic Entity. Whomever 'ol Liz was, she really went in on the Ancient Greek, don't you think, even when it comes to PL in general. Dr. Erende: Typhon was an entity Gaia created to slay the Greek Gods after their apparent betrayal. He was to be the end of the world. Agent McDaren: Isn't the big boulder bastard behind me keen on 'Mother Earth'? Agent Waller: Exactly. Plus, according to Morales, it mentioned some form of betrayal during their first heart-to-heart. Dr. Erende: Then we need to take precautions and start actual testing like I suggested months ag- Commander Jakobson: You want to start prodding a possible apocalypse engine over the rantings of a woman who sounds like she was bedeviled long before Prometheus went under? Agent McDaren: That's the eggs' modus oprendi. We die in the dark so that they can play in the shadows. Erende bristles but holds his tongue as the three MTF glare at him flatly Agent Waller: She calls us Icarus for a reason, folks. Dr. Erende: Yes, that incessant terminology, yet there is evidence that this location and the linked locales you told me about are signs of a joint project between the Labs and Foundation. Have you made any further ground in that line of inquiry? Waller gestures to the compiling data. Agent Waller: I have, but you can bet your doctorate that even if I can scrounge anything up in this latest pass, it'll be locked down tighter than Site-19. But that isn't why I asked the Doc here or you, Commander. We've got a more pressing concern. Subject Delta. Erende looks back down at the notes Dr. Erende: Another Typhon Class? And why those designations? Are they numerical in connotation? Agent Waller: Correct on both accounts. As for the designations, I was able to piece together that the document was demarcated by age. Specifically, the designations seem to be linked to extinction events in Earth's history. Funny tidbit when it comes to our big friend back there, Liz has his designation tied to the ol' KT6. The others stare at him silently. Agent Waller: I thought it was funny anyway. But with that in mind, it's a pretty easy conclusion to make; we're looking at similar entities being held at the other Sysiphun buildings. Agent McDaren: So, we've got a magic dinosaur linked to the disaster that killed them all. Agent Waller: And others are waiting for us in their own pretty packaging. Probably. Agent McDaren: But what about Delta? Higher number, lower on the time scale? Agent Waller: I think, far as I can tell, it never got nabbed, so there isn't much to go on, but history isn't in my wheelhouse. What about you, Doc? Dr. Erende rubs his chin and stares into the middle distance. Dr. Erende: It could be the Holocene, though I am uncertain if- Commander Jackobson steps forward. Commander Jackobson: I don't wish to interrupt, but were numerical designations the "pressing concerns" you had? Waller pauses and nods, flicking other pages open on the screens. Agent Waller: Right, seems like Tiresias, the precep-filters, were created to keep out other Typhons. Likely, this Subject Delta. The reports I was able to scrounge together made them seem foolproof. Since I started looking into Prometheus, that kinda talk pops up a lot, but I’ve looked over the tech, and I have to hand it to them. These should have lasted for a lot longer than they apparently did. Commander Jackobson: What stopped them? Agent Waller: This. He taps a key, and the other monitors gleam with several pictures of a viscous green-black liquid. He glances back to Erende. Agent Waller: Had some of your kinda eggheads, take a peek, and lo and behold, it’s organic. Mostly, hints of all kinds of biomass, all wrapped up in a sticky, tar-covered package. Dr. Erende: They were undone… by tar. Agent Waller: Persistent living tar. Commander Jackobson: Have you found any more? Agent Waller: Just found out this morning, but the other techs are cautiously cracking open the other filters. Dr. Erende: But you think whatever is creating it is Subject Delta? The computer chimes, and several pages of salvaged documentation, graphs, and data appears across the screen. Agent Waller: We'll find out in a minute. [Simultaneously, this conversation is recovered from within SCP-7442-Gamma's containment chamber]. SCP-7442-Gamma: Are we to simply sit in silence this day? Agent Morales looks up at it as its green eyes gleam, moving a chess piece of solid marble to counter her latest move. Her eyes and hands glow as she concentrates on funneling energy into the runes. Agent Morales: Do you wish me to ask you questions? SCP-7442-Gamma: With Prometheus, the questions never ceased. Until the day they vanished. Agent Morales: Why did they leave? SCP-7442-Gamma shifts and stares at her silently for about a minute, its eyes flicking toward the many cameras. SCP-7442-Gamma: The others listen? Agent Morales: Always. We can play in silence. SCP-7442-Gamma: I've had enough of silence. It won't matter much longer. Agent Morales: What do you mean? The entity ignores her question to answer the previous one. SCP-7442-Gamma: To hunt another like me. To cage them. Inaudible to Agent Morales and those within the lab, another voice speaks. Unknown: They failed. Agent Morales: Why? SCP-7442-Gamma: Why do you? Fear? Control? Safety? Agent Morales is silent for a moment. Agent Morales: There are more of you? Unknown: Yes. SCP-7442-Gamma: Yes. Agent Morales: What are you? The entity shifts again, and the faintest hint of ice can be seen forming on the edges of the ventilation systems within the cavern and the lab, unnoticed by the personnel. SCP-7442-Gamma: We spoke before of my creator. Unknown: Why are you bothering? Agent Morales: Mother Earth? SCP-7442-Gamma: She had many children, and a few rose to be much like you. Unknown: Better than them. Agent Morales freezes as she places another chess piece down. Agent Morales: What… do you mean? SCP-7442-Gamma: That question has many answers, but I will choose to say magic was not born with the advent of your people. I could not recognize it then, but She had made such wonders. Until…my time ended. I as I am followed. To help seal Her wounds and strengthen Her flesh so that life could bloom once more. Agent Morales: That is the purpose of you and the others like you? Unknown: Wait and see. SCP-7442-Gamma: We were to be more than just her children. Her Guardians, Her… friends, across the ages as She grew and learned. Unknown: Then why didn't she listen? SCP-7442-Gamma: Hold your tongue! The room rocks, and the temperature in the base begins to decline slowly. The tremor catches the attention of the other staff members, with Agent McDaren moving into the room. Agent McDaren: What's going on? The entity ignores him, keeping its gaze locked on Agent Morales. Agent Morales: Who are you speak- SCP-7442-Gamma: I must ask you something. The Agents exchange glances, and Morales turns back to the entity. SCP-7442-Gamma: What do you know of Extinction? Morales appears confused and takes a moment to answer. Agent Morales: I think… it is a tragedy, but perhaps a necessary one. Time goes on, quirks of fate leading to new life surviving to overtake the old-a Cycle. The entity begins to stand, its eyes still burrowing into her. SCP-7442-Gamma: And nothing should be done to answer it? Agent Morales: I don't know about what came before…but I think what is happening today could be prevented if you understand what I mean. You've been down here for quite some time. The Foundation could… it should do something. Agent McDaren: Morales, what are you doing? SCP-7442-Gamma stretches. SCP-7442-Gamma: I believe you. Agent Morales: You believe me? SCP-7442-Gamma: Deceit lies in the heart. I feel all heartbeats…but one is missing. SCP-7442-Gamma shakes itself as if relieving an itch, and the entire room quakes, nearly sending Morales and McDaren to the ground. SCP-7442-Gamma: But a tragedy requires intervention. A lesson Prometheus believes it had learned. That your Foundation believes it knows. Yet this… stagnation demands our response. In the lab, Agent Waller finishes reading the information. His eyes widen and he leaps to his feet. Agent Waller: Get her out of there! McDaren grabs Morales's arm and begins to pull her back. Agent Morales: The ritual?! Agent Waller: Hasn't been working. It's played u- Their comms crackle to life, the voice of one of the topside agents coming through. Unnamed Agent: Sir, this is topside. It's started snowing, and there is someone on the perimet— The agent lets out a strangled gasp as something begins choking the life out of them. SCP-7442-Gamma's eyes start glowing intensely as they still focus on Morales. SCP-7442-Gamma: I wish we had more time. But this stagnation must cease. You… so many of you don't deserve what is to come. Agent Morales: What? Another entity manifests within the cavern, seeping through the ventilation system. SCP-7442-Delta rises, sending a cascade of freezing air across the other entity's bonds. McDaren pushes Morales back and opens fire on the new entity. The bullets of his thaumically-enhanced rifle pass right through it. SCP-7442-Gamma: The End. SCP-7442-Delta: A long time coming. Agent Waller scrambles to download the information on his system as Morales and McDaren rush back into the the lab. The door slams shut behind them. Dr. Erende darts into the outer hall, looking around, panicked. The Commander unholsters his weapon as the room begins to shake and and quake. The sound of wrenching metal and shifting earth echoes around them. Agent Amata comes around the corner, heavily wounded, armed with a grenade launcher. Through the windows, the form of SCP-7442-Gamma can be seen wrenching itself free. SCP-7442-Delta dissipates and races toward the door as a swirling mass of wind and snow. Ice begins to form around the edges of the windows. Agent Amata: What… what hit us? Agent Waller: A fucking demigod! Commander Jackobson: We're leaving. Now. The temperature drops in the room as the chilling mist begins to filter in through the ventilation system. It begins to take the form of multiple instances of SCP-7442-Delta. The camera lens crack and distort, capturing that Agent Morales is the last to leave the room—green light glints in her eyes as she makes eye contact with the incorporating entity. A hail of gunfire follows, and the entity can be heard laughing as the screen goes black. [END LOG] Closing Statement: Sysiphun-3 was utterly destroyed by the ensuing earthquake. 23 Foundation personnel were killed during the event, with 37 more surviving the incident with significant injuries. Both entities vanished after emerging from the ruined facility, enduring suppressive fire from surviving MTF members with no sign of damage. SCP-7442 Emergent Incidents Chicxulub Puerto Incident (21 March 202█) Entities: SCP-7442-Gamma, SCP-7442-Delta Taking place concurrently with the Containment Breach, the small town is struck with -28.8°C temperatures, 80 kph winds, heavy snowfall, and a category 7.8 earthquake. Power, sanitation, and transportation facilities are utterly destroyed, and a portion of the port district sinks into the waves. The Ethics Committee begins a dialogue of offering aid to the city through a number of shell charities. The Merida Incident (22 March 202█) Entities: SCP-7442-Gamma, SCP-7442-Delta The entities briefly emerge in Merida, shifting the natural disaster's focal point with them. A brief conflict arises between the entities, leading to the destruction of the Cathedral of Merida. SCP-7442-Gamma leaves. SCP-7442-Delta remains, creating a massive blizzard. Temperatures drop to -35.6°C, with near 0 visibility and dropping 1.219 meters of snow in the span of an hour. MTF Delta-14 is sent to confront the entity, yet it dissipates after the initial engagement, which led to the death of 4 of the squad's members. Boring Incident (24 March 202█) Entities: SCP-7442-Gamma SCP-7442-Gamma manifests on the grounds of Wilson's Wildlife Solutions(GoI-466). It wanders the area for a period of one hour, causing a great deal of structural damage as if hunting for something. No personnel are injured during the manifestation period. Audio records the word "Apologies." coming from the entity. It then demanifests after bowing to the current director of GoI-466. The Tripartite Manifestation (26 March 202█) Entities: SCP-7442-Gamma, SCP-7442-Delta The entities manifest within three secure Foundation sites in Costa Rica, Borneo, and the Congo at the same time. All personnel at each site are restrained or incapacitated without a single casualty. They are rendered unconscious by a rapid change in air pressure or held in place with earthen bonds. The entities entered the central chambers of each site and reports claim that SCP-7442-Gamma began weeping with SCP-7442-Delta offering consolidation. Audio equipment at the Costa Rica site captured the following statement: SCP-7442-Gamma: I had hoped… but no longer. All manifestations of each entity proceeded to vanish. Her Ichthyic Ichor Entry Uploading 50% [] Error Data Breach Ongoing: Compensating File Corruption. Re:SUBJECT To: 0-ja25![ From: Dr. Elisabet Subject: A Reimagining of History. You came to us with a problem. We have offered a solution. But with every stroke of genius, as I am sure you are well aware, new issues arise. 4 Problems, as it were. Curious things, but I assure you it will not halt our progress. Though their emergence opens up a curious line of thinking, which I believe you will appreciate. We have always known Thaumaturgy and Mythos were just unexplored facets of what is fact. And I think it was foolish of us not to consider that myth can extend as far back as what we define as common knowledge. Common knowledge states a meteor killed the dinosaurs. But we must seek a deeper truth: “What drew it to our celestial shores?” Chance, coincidence, I hear you say. Coincidence is just another word for miracle4. And miracles are simply misunderstood truths. And the truth is always stranger. And what the truth appears to be is emerging all around us. I have to thank you, my friend, for the curious realignment of knowledge you have allowed us to pursue in hunting for your Future. Do not fear. As every, Our Guiding Light will see the problem through. Archived Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7442-Beta was contained within Prometheus Labs Containment Facility Sysiphun-2. The facility was inside a pocket dimension embedded within the Oriental Pearl TV Tower in Shanghai, with the aid of the Kuiyang Sect. Tiresias Perception Filters similar to those found at Sysiphun-3 were discovered in similar states of ongoing disrepair. The entity's containment chamber was a 200-by-80-meter cylinder crafted of polycarbonate glass and titanium alloy reinforced with thaumic runes. A failsafe was discovered that would cause the structure to be teleported into another reality if the cell was breached. However, failure of upkeep degraded the thaumic protection to the point the entity was able to escape during the Foundation's exploration of Sysiphun-2. Description: SCP-7442-Beta resembles a hybrid between Dimetrodon limbatus7 and Dunkleosteus terrelli8 made entirely of water, with the exception of its glowing jade eyes. It most commonly manifests at approximately 74 meters in length. Sketch of SCP-7442-Beta The entity has been classified as a Thaumic LSA. It is transparent, granting it a modicum of invisibility. It has similar disincorporation abilities to SCP-7442-Delta. It is aquakinetic, able to shape and manipulate water in several ways. However, it most commonly manifests its abilities in water-based natural disasters: floods, hurricanes (when in tandem with SCP-7442-Delta), and tsunamis. The upper limit of its aquakinesis is not yet known. On its emergence, it manifested a wave bordering 120 meters tall. It has stuck to the coasts but can manifest in any body of water worldwide and form a barrier out of it, telekinetically carrying itself through the air. Any water manipulated by SCP-7442-Beta undergoes an immediate algae bloom, which draws in multitudes of aquatic and semi-aquatic life that readily begin to consume the algae regardless of baseline consumption, with no apparent ill effects. The entity has the same immunities as displayed by previous instances of SCP-7442. + Sysiphun-2 Exploration Log: Upload Complete - Close Date: 31 March 2021 Exploration Team: Sysiphun Investigatory Taskforce Subject: Sysiphun-2 Team Lead: Commander Gregor Jakobson Team Members: Agent Eliza Amata, Agent Malik Waller, Agent Dacey Morales, Agent Bernard "Briar" McDaren. [BEGIN LOG] 4:42 AM CST-Numerous Foundation armed forces are observed moving about the snow-choked streets around the base of Oriental Pearl TV Tower. Agent Amata and Agent Morales are seen moving through the gathered forces, heading into the base of the building. Commander Jakobson, Agent Waller, and Agent McDaren are seen standing outside an elevator, with several other MTF members barricading the interior. Agent Waller: The Perceps are failing, Cap. Techs are reporting the same degradation as the last site. Commander Jakobson nods, putting a hand to his ear. He nods and turns toward the rest of the group. Commander Jakobson: Catalogue it, but we need to move. All civilians have been evacuated. We've got a green light, and the window is closing rapidly. Snow is already a foot deep, and the men at the harbor are reporting tremors. Do you have it? He turns to the returned Morales and Amata. Agent Morales: Took some convincing. The Kuiyang are not a trusting group. She holds up a keycard marked with thaumaturgic runes. Jakobson takes it. Agent McDaren: Should we expect anything more from them? Agent Amata: They're clearing house, them and pretty much every other GoI and PoI in the city. An explosion echoes in the distance, and the helicopter cam shifts. Smoke is seen rising as a tornado touches down a kilometer from their current position. Agent Waller: And yet the Brass still wants us vermin to be the front line against Nature Incarnate. Commander Jakobson: It's what you trained for, Waller. McDaren? Agent McDaren: Orders are I stick to you like glue. Rest of the mates have the LSA countermeasures primed. My kit is to help you if we find another big bastard inside. Commander Jakobson: Right, in we go. He passes the keycard across a scanner next to the elevator, the Prometheus Symbol glows across the doors, and they slide open. The MTF enter, and their feeds cut as the elevator begins moving. The other Foundation personnel continue to bunker down as more explosions and the sound of a thunder-backed roar rocks the city. 4:45 CST-The team's cameras turn on as they exit the elevator. The landing consists of two hallways that curve upward around a glass and metal cylinder. The cylinder is marked with gleaming runes. Inside is brackish, algae-filled water. Several futuristic machines stutter through the air, rust and wear visible on the edges. The Shanghai skyline can be seen beyond, though slightly warped, as can the Foundation's engagement with the SCP-7442 entities. Commander Jakobson: Waller, which way? The Agent activates his wrist-mounted computer. Agent Waller: From the partial maps I could piece together from the salvaged data, all roads lead to Rome. Ergo, either. What we're after should be at the very top. He points at one of the floating machines. Agent Waller: I get my hands on one of those. I might be able to get a better picture. They're security drones. So watch your steps. The others mutter acknowledgments. Agent Morales shifts towards the cylinder, narrowing her eyes, her fingers gleaming with thaumic energy as she raises them towards it. Agent Morales: The wards: they're even weaker than those at S-3. The water shifts, and the MTF all raise their weapons. A singular glowing green eye gleams from amongst the algae. SCP-7442-Beta: Yes. Soon. I. See. Freedom. Its voice is deep, yet feminine, and seems to resonate and echo all around the group. Its attention stays locked on Morales for a moment before vanishing back into the murk. SCP-7442-Beta: Yours. Is. A. Familiar. Presence. Commander Jakobson: We need to move. Keep an eye on our exit and the drones. The others nod, spreading out to cover both halls, with Waller and McDaren taking the left and the Commander, Amata, and Morales going right. He briefly pauses and whispers in Morales's ear, who nods and turns her attention to the chamber as they continue upwards. Agent Morales: What are you? SCP-7442-Beta: Old. Forgotten. Guardian. Agent Morales: Of whom? SCP-7442-Beta: Her. Always. You. Once. The water shifts within the chamber, and the faint outline of a coiling plant can be seen. Agent Morales: You protected humanity? SCP-7442-Beta: Yes. You called. We answered. Wind and Waves. A Flood. The water clears as they climb, and more outlines rapidly form: the face of a large furred hominid9, a bearded human man, and a vast wave. SCP-7442-Beta: We exist. In Cycles. Born of Tragedy. To help Her heal. To build back better. Many visitors. Sought her bounty. To scar her form. We defeated them All. In Time. Many images swiftly flash before Morales, who has stopped moving as the others have continued upwards. The Commander turns back to her. Commander Jakobson: Morales? She glances up at him, a faint green gleam visible in her eyes on the camera. Agent Morales: Sorry, sir. She follows after them, though she continues the dialogue with SCP-7442-Delta. Agent Morales: So your purpose is…rebirth? The entity grumbles an agreement. SCP-7442-Beta: Though. Your ilk. Dub us: Extinction. Agent Morales blinks and steps back from the chamber, glancing towards the others, but their attention seems split between the climb and the encroaching storm outside. Agent Morales: Is that accurate? SCP-7442-Beta: We are. Necessary. For Her health. For Rebirth. Agent Morales: Then why were you caged here? SCP-7442-Beta: Prometheus believed. They could do better. The eyes close, and Morales moves to rejoin the others. Outside, the tornado can be seen growing closer, with explosions centering on another location deeper into the city. 5:05 CST-Agent Waller is stooped over a downed drone, standing at a landing where the two hallways crossover. McDaren is staring out toward the city. The rest of the exploration team arrives, excluding Agent Morales. Agent McDaren: Where is Morales? Agent Amata: Dialogue with the Fish. She's just a few steps back. Agent McDaren looks around, and his camera catches Morales marching after them. Commander Jakobson: What have you got? Agent Waller: CPU is still humming, but whatever motor function this thing used to have is shot—no outer ports for data retrieval. I have time to crack it, Boss? The tornado is seen racing closer. The thaumically powered batteries appear to slow it down, but it keeps moving. Commander Jakobson: Fast as you are able. Agent Morales finally arrives, looking a bit shaken. Unnoticed by the group, SCP-7442-Beta is quietly observing her from within the glass. Waller pulls out his tools and swiftly pries open the side of the drone, and drops his tools with a start as viscous green-black tar pours from the opening. Agent Waller: Christ! Amata wrenches him to his feet as it pools outward, quivering slightly before halting in a rough meter-wide puddle. Agent Amata: Guessing you aren't going to be getting anything from that one? Waller pulls away from her and chuckles. Agent Waller: You wanna get up in person with the bot's oozing insides? It's all yours, Eliza. Commander Jakobson: Same as before? McDaren sniffs the air and nods his head as Morales crouches and slowly reaches out, her fingertips glowing. Agent McDaren: I wouldn't do that if I were you. That shit is festering, and it's caustic. Agent Morales looks up at him flatly. Agent Morales: I know Mole Rats have a reputation, Briar, but we're not all suicidal. Agent Waller: Not of our own volition anyway, a bit of an occupational expectation. Agent Morales looks up to the Commander. Agent Morales: It's organic, with a faint thaumic imprint. Commander Jakobson: Then we already have samples and are wasting time we don't have. Double time, folks. Odin willing, there is a solution in this place. 5:30 CST-The team reaches the top of the pocket dimension's interior, a domed chamber with two entrances filled with displays of anomalous artifacts, a large desk with a holographic display, and the top of the glass chamber. Several larger drones are scattered around the ground, leaking tar. Large portions of the glass walls and floor have been covered in the substance. SCP-7442-Beta's eyes manifest, staring at the party. McDaren gags and covers his nose, the others showing lessened yet similar reactions. Agent McDaren: That's the sinus's cleared. What is this stuff? SCP-7442-Beta: Rot. The Agent stares towards the container as the others spread out, then shakes his head and shifts around it. Commander Jakobson: Waller, desk, Amata, see if the other exit is blocked; McDaren, Morales, eyes up, time table is closing. He nods to one of the uncovered windows. The tornado is less than two hundred meters away, though the thaumic fire hadn't relented. The ground cracks and buckles in the distance, and the faint shape of SCP-7442-Gamma can be seen. The others do as commanded. Agent Waller: Let's see what you've got for me. He plugs his wrist computer into the terminal and swiftly begins typing. Agent Morales is looking around at the artifacts in the room. The tar covers many displays, obscuring their occupants, yet four are visible. A complete velociraptor skeleton embedded with jade augmentations, a petrified tendril resembling vectors from SCP-610 corruption, an iridescent silver horn, and a piece of bedrock with a fossil of an insectoid robotic limb. Agent Morales: What is all of this? SCP-7442-Beta: Truth Forgotten. Horrors Slain. Children Lost. Agent Morales: Extinction… Her eyes are seen glowing faintly, and she places a hand on her temple. The Commander reaches out, shaking her shoulder. Commander Jakobson: Morales? I need you keen, what's happening? SCP-7442-Beta: Her Nature. Agent Morales: Thaumic Resonance coming off everything is… a bit much. Thrumming like a… SCP-7442-Beta: Heartbeat. Commander Jakobson: Are you doing this, beast? He turns to the container. The entity stares back at him, more of its form congealing, revealing bladed teeth and two large webbed claws that press against the glass. The runes flair, and it recedes slightly. SCP-7442-Beta: No. But I Know. It closes its eyes and vanishes into the surrounding liquid. Agent Amata comes around the corner. Agent Amata: Door's jammed. Not sure if any of that tar got in the mechanism, but the electronics are shot. I'm gonna need some aid pulling it open." Commander Jakobson: McDaren, go with her. Agent McDaren: Aye sir. Commander Jakobson: Waller? Agent Waller: I've got camera access, just in case, scrubbing and copying any and all files as we speak. Commander Jakobson: Sysiphun, Deucal, Elisabet, a way to stop all of this? Agent Waller: Working as fast as I can, Boss, but this- He is cut off by a pop-up appearing across the screen and a beam of light cascading across the room. Hello Icarus Error: Vocal Activation Triggered. Error: Prometheus Personel Not Found. Scanning: Sysiphun Network. Warning: Sysiphun-3 Not-Found. Warning: Sysiphun-2 Degradation Imminent. Thaumic Fields Failing. Intrusive Organic Compound Detected. Prognosis: Four Horseman Event Triggering. Scanning: Foundation Presence Discovered. Activating: Pandora Protocol. [] The screen shifts and begins projecting a hologram of a tall, red-haired woman dressed in a lab coat with Prometheus Lab's insignia on the breast. Hologram: Hello Icarus, I am a neural homunculus of Dr. Elisabet, lead facilitator of the Sysiphun Protocol. I take it you require assistance. Agent Waller looks around the hologram at the commander. SCP-7442-Beta remanifests with a low growl that echoes about the chamber. Agent Waller: Got your info. Commander Jakobson: What is the Sysiphun Project? She looks around at the Foundation Agents, her eyes glowing yellow as she intently studies each of them. Dr. Elisabet: A temporal immigrant, a Mage, and a genetic mutate. Alongside two baseline humans…curious, but I do not detect the proper authorization to offer you the full breadth of information on that topic. Commander Jakobson: What can you tell us? Dr. Elisabet: Protocol Sysiphun was created to contain a set of Typhon-Class entities. World-Ending Elemental Forces given sentience. SCP-7442-Beta: Her Gift. Her Guardians. The entity is pressing against the glass, water churning into a whirlpool, agitated by the presence of the hologram. The runes can be seen flickering and sputtering, and the tornado grows closer outside. Dr. Elisabet: They are an immune response triggered following or during events that would endanger the overall well-being of the biosphere. SCP-7442-Beta: Cut Out Disease. Slay Invaders. The hologram gestures around the room. Dr. Elisabet: Their handiwork. The history we would never have known about without you, Brave Little Icarus. SCP-7442-Beta: To Protect. Her. To Protect. Her Children. Tragedy. Commander Jakobson: So why have they awakened now? Dr. Elisabet: To kill the sickness, obviously. To kill Us. The Agents turn towards each other, a deep silence pervading the room. Agent Morales: How do we stop them? The hologram looks towards the windows, seeing the oncoming entities. Dr. Elisabet: Gamma free, Delta…likely never captured. Beta… SCP-7442-Beta: Soon. To Be. Free. Dr. Elisabet: Deucalion has a Safeguard for this eventuality. You need only reach it. SCP-7442-Beta surges towards the wall of its container. Several of the runes fail as it thrashes in rage. Agent Morales: What is it? SCP-7442-Beta: PAIN! The hologram pauses, staring blankly at the far wall. Her form glitches, scattering into fractal patterns. Dr. Elisabet: It appears my memory is f-f-faulty. I can not locate Deucalion at this time. Information could likely be found a-Apologies, it seems we are out of time. The hologram points. The Commander, Waller, and Morales turn and see a Foundation tank flying toward the tower. It impacts with a load boom and ensuing explosion, an echo reverberating about the pocket dimension. Dr. Elisabet: Warning, destabilizing the anchor point will cause the pocket to collapse ballistically. All personnel should vacate the premises immediately. Commander Jakobson: What of the entity? Dr. Elisabet: Failsafes activated, the container will be jettisoned, weakening immune response. The runes along the container begin glowing in unison as SCP-7442-Beta attempts to free itself, cracks forming across the glass. Commander Jakobson: Then we are gone. Waller, gather the Doctor. Morales, pour everything you have into the chamber. Amata, McDaren, we're lea- An explosion rocks the room once more. Agent Waller: Delta just breached the elevator, and this is gonna take at least a minute even if I rush and leave bits of our new friend behind. So we're about to be SOL. Commander Jakobson: Get moving then. Morales, barrier! McDaren, Amata, keep on that door. Wind always follows the path of least resistance, so… He reaches back, removing an ancient-looking axe from his pack, and grits his teeth. Morales turns and raises her hands, a shimmering barrier of green energy filling the opening before them. Commander Jakobson: Thaumic out! The axe crackles with energy, and a billowing bolt of wind slams into Morales's barrier. It pounds against the barrier again, and Morales winces but holds. SCP-7442-Beta bashes against its containment chamber again, spreading further cracks. Morales shifts her stance, putting a hand towards it, the sparking runes gleaming just a bit brighter as the chamber begins to phase out. Dr. Elisabet: Activating Automated Defenses. The robots twitch and spark but stay prone and beyond the barrier SCP-7442-Delta forms. Darkly, it chuckles. SCP-7442-Delta: Hello, again. Have a nice talk? I see the Doctor, even as a ghost, can't help but speak in half-truths. Commander Jakobson: So you and yours are not out to kill us all, Demon? SCP-7442-Delta: No, we are. We have to fix everything you've done. Agent Amata: Why? SCP-7442-Beta: Betrayal. Slaughter. Neglect. Dr. Elisabet: We have fallen out of favor. SCP-7442-Delta: Favor you never should have had! She saved you. She loved you! Too trusting. Not used to how easily you crafted lies, how willing you are to fool yourselves. You wrenched open her heart and caged my fellows in their sleep, but I have always known your ilk best, Cousin. SCP-7442-Beta: Protected You. From Flood. From Ice. From Rising Sun. SCP-7442-Delta: Is this that time? Born of the parasite you shoved into her heart? That awful machine that spits you back out just to do it all over again. The Agents look at each other confused, as both entities have stopped fighting, just staring at them with burning jade eyes. SCP-7442-Beta: Or Carved Apart. Her Library. For Curiosity. SCP-7442-Delta: Or when She returned you to the Cradle, and you betrayed her yet again. Dr. Elisabet: Icarus indeed. Commander Jakobson: You can not blame all of humanity for the actions o- SCP-7442-Delta: I can. Why? She held us back. For she thought you would learn. But instead, you’ve chosen to stagnate. To carve away at her, again and again, never thinking that when you reset, she remains the same. You’ve poisoned her blood and burned her lungs. Carved open her flesh and wrenched free her marrow. Again. And again! You slaughter her children and call it natural. You know nothing of what is natural! You could do something. You could but you don’t. Too beholden to your normalcy and deified coin. But we’re here now. Which means…she’s too weak to care. Agent Amata screams, as from the barest gap in the door, freezing wind rushes in and seeps into her clothes, what little bit of flesh can be seen along her arm immediately becoming frostbitten. SCP-7442-Delta vanishes and instantly reconstitutes in the room. Punching forward, another gust races for Agent Morales and knocks her off her feet and directly into a tar patch. Her eyes gleam a vibrant green upon impact, and she falls unconscious. The hologram vanishes, and Waller pulls back from the desk, raising his firearm toward the entity. Agent Waller: I got her. SCP-7442-Delta turns away from them and targets the chamber SCP-7442-Beta is in, a miniature tornado of chill winds roaring up around it. Commander Jakobson: Get Morales and get out, now! Across the way, McDaren forces the door open with a surge of strength and grabs Amata, nodding towards the commander. Commander Jakobson: Now, Waller! Agent Waller looks at the Commander and toward the cracking containment chamber and two entities. Agent Waller: That is suicide. Commander Jakobson: Valhalla awaits. Not bad for a Rat, now go! He charges SCP-7442-Delta swinging the axe down, and it finds purchase, causing the entity to start in surprise. It glances down at the axe, back up to the commander, and narrows its eyes. SCP-7442-Delta: You Foundation folk…brave enough to fight Gods but not to accept your own failings. Commander Jakobson: My Gods are with me. The entity sends a cascade of chill wind towards the Commander, his skin immediately turning black and shriveling across his face and neck. Yet the commander swings again, axe biting into the entity's chest. Commander Jakobson: The others have sounded solemn. But you speak with such vindication. SCP-7442-Delta: Humans believe they are special. They aren't. There are Heirs apparent of older blood than any of you and fresher minds as well. Yet, you refuse to let go. I don’t know what I used to be. Just what I am now. The last child of a people dead…because of you. Because of humanity. Another gust of freezing air buffets the Captain's back, and the cameras crack, though the audio remains for just a second more. Commander Jakobson: I've faced colder than this back in Ísland. SCP-7442-Delta: Somehow I doubt that. The sound of a brief but intense bought of combat is heard, ending with the sound of shattering glass and rushing water. [END LOG] Closing Statement: The breach of SCP-7442-Beta's containment chamber caused the destruction of the Oriental Pearl Tower and the creation of a perpetual hurricane centered on its former location. This, combined with the devastation caused by the Gamma and Delta entities, left approximately half of the city’s infrastructure in ruins. Relief efforts are being hampered by the aforementioned hurricane and prolific botanical growth brought on by the instance's abilities. Casualty reports are still coming in, but the death toll is projected to be at least a third of the city’s population. Video and images of the SCP-7442 instances have proliferated across the internet in civilian and governmental circles. The likelihood of a Broken Veil Scenario is high. Her First and Last Entry uploading 67% [] Description: SCP-7442-Alpha is, at first glance, a mobile sphere of orange and blue flame approximately 6.096 meters in diameter. In the very center of the globe is a mass of shifting magma that resembles a specimen of the Isotelus rex10 genus with a single jade eye in the center of its head. Sketch of SCP-7442-Alpha Its pyrokinetic abilities allow it to form the surrounding sphere into all manner of shapes, most often defaulting to lashing tentacle-shaped limbs. Its touch burns at 1425°C baseline, though notably, does not appear to consume oxygen or affect non-manmade structures or nonhuman entities. Material reduced to ash by its flames, regardless of the original chemical composition, into a substance that engenders rapid and prolific plant growth, likely through Thaumaturgic processes. It has the same manifestation abilities and immunities as prior SCP-7442 instances. SCP-7442 Attacks Bio-Site Sieges (4 April 202█) Entities: SCP-7442-Beta, SCP-7442-Gamma, SCP-7442-Delta Sites 84, 91, 103, and 104 come under multifaceted assault in progression as the entities manifest and demanifest across each facility for a period of 4 hours each. SCP-7442-Gamma initiated the assaults, drawing fire from on-site guards, but was able to manipulate the stone and metal of the facilities to tear them wide open and initiate numerous containment breaches. SCP-7442-Beta and -Delta were seen moving through the facilities, the former avoiding non-combatant personnel while facilitating further containment breaches. Delta was the cause of the highest number of Foundation casualties. Survivors report that the entities appeared to be hunting for information. Several Foundation personnel working at these sites have also gone missing, particularly from Site 84. Investigations into the missing individuals uncovered a majority had former employment at Prometheus Labs. The oil discovered at both Sysiphun sites was present, but the influx of SCP-7442-Delta-created flora that swiftly overtook the facilities alongside the freed anomalies must take precedence. Foundation Casualties: 242 Missing Personnel: 86 Site-12 Assault (8 April 202█) Entities: SCP-7442-Beta, SCP-7442-Gamma, SCP-7442-Delta The assault began with SCP-7442-Beta and -Gamma working together to destroy the site's hydroelectric power station. The onsite mobile task force was overrun by -Delta. It asphyxiated each of them quickly before going after the rest of the site's staff. Back-up generators kept power to the facility's security system. Cameras capture the entities ransacking the Library, forcing several site staff to assist them. A Foundation assault team arrived to offer aid and reported no survivors and various books missing. They detailed information about Free Ports, Prometheus Labs, and Nature-based anomalous entities. The team reported more oil, samples were taken, and clean-up has commenced in attempts to retake the site. All sites must be prepared for incursions by the SCP-7442 entities from now on. Mobile task forces are to be on high alert. Anomalous Weaponry is being considered for distribution. Samsara is directed to hunt the SCP-7442 entities. Foundation Personnel Casualties: 126 Humanoid Containment Site-282 Incident (12 April 202█) Entities: SCP-7442-Gamma, SCP-7442-Delta SCP-7442-Gamma and -Delta arrive at the site and immediately come under attack by the on-site guards. MTF Tau-5 is alerted and is sent to attempt to curtail the entities' attack. SCP-7442-Gamma causes a category 8.9 earthquake, causing catastrophic initial damage to the site. Delta asphyxiates or flash-freezes surviving personnel and leaves -Gamma to deal with Tau-5 as it delves deeper into the site. Tau-5 is able to seemingly destroy -Gamma after a prolonged period of conflict, losing two of its members in the conflict. Delta flees the site. Tau-5 delves into the ruins and finds all SCP-3288 instances dead from asphyxiation and wind-scoured writing etched into the wall. The Greatest of You: They Show Their True Faces. It is uncertain why SCP-7442 targeted this site, as no relevant data to Prometheus Labs was stored at the facility. Central Europe is struck with earthquakes of similar intensity over the next several days, causing widespread structural and geographic damage to several cities due to the collapse of an unmapped cavern system that spread out under much of Austria, Hungary, Germany, and other neighboring countries. Foundation Personnel Casualties: 113 Civilian Casualties: 467,000 and climbing. Eurtec/Portlands Attacks (22 April 202█) Entities: SCP-7442-Beta, SCP-7442-Delta Simultaneous attacks on the Freeports, with Beta flooding the upper sections of Eurtec, trapping them in a roiling bubble of seawater. -Delta besieges Three Portlands with over a dozen feet of snow and -35°C winds. GOC and UIU forces attempt to beat back the entities with little success. In Eurtec, a number of former Prometheus Labs personnel are interrogated and promptly drowned by Beta. Their bodies were left hanging in the air in impermeable spheres of water as the entity left the pocket dimension. Delta was sighted scouring several old PL facilities within the Free Port, leading to confrontations with Anderson Robotics, as the organization had taken over a good number of those facilities. Eventually, the Mayor interceeded, forcing Delta to leave. Eurtec Casualties: 121 GOC Personnel, 1,223 Civilians. Three Portlands: 233 UIU Personnel, 366 Civilians. The Foundation has contacted all affected groups to ally against the SCP-7442 instances. The GOC and UIU agree to an accord; Anderson Robotics and the Three Ports Council require deliberation. The Library Event (5 May 202█) Entities: SCP-7442-Gamma A reformed SCP-7442-Gamma is reported to be within the Wanderer's Library by a willing Serpent's Hand informant. It is noted to be conversing with several Librarians, a Wandsman, and members of the Serpent's Hand. A disagreement causes whatever conversation is being had to break down, with a handful of the Serpent's Hand members racing off. The Librarians and SCP-7442-Gamma appear to come to some form of agreement. Several of the Library's ways close, and reports of conflict emerging amongst the Serpent's Hand reaches the Foundation. Site-7 Assault (19 May 202█) Entities: SCP-7442-Beta, SCP-7442-Gamma, SCP-7442-Delta The entities attacked site-7 at midnight. SCP-7442-Beta and -Gamma targetted the central nexus of Starseeker, Deepwatcher, and Plaingazer. Delta sought entry into Redeye and Parthenon's Tooth simultaneously. Onsite security forces attempted to hold off the entities, utilizing paratech created at the facility but had little success in pushing back the larger entities. A distress call is sent to the wider Foundation, which responds by sending Tau-5 and attempting to redirect a portion of its patrol boats in the Pacific theater. It appears the entities were not expecting the level of resistance and reacted accordingly. -Gamma creates a category 10.3 earthquake, shattering the seabed on which the site rests, causing several of the platforms to shift, buckle and begin to sink. -Beta floods the Panopticon due to minimal cracks formed by -Gamma. -Delta follows after -Beta. Much of the hardware is flash-frozen, though the network continues to function now, just at a limited capacity. The thaumonuclear reactor suffers an unexpected power surge, causing the ancillary server cluster to lower into the water, which is immediately destroyed by -Beta and -Gamma. Numerous faults are expected to continue as the Foundation attempts to salvage the operations. The reactor erupts at 12:42 AM, devastating much of the remaining site and destroying SCP-7442's current manifestations. Salvage and recovery operations are ongoing, yet anomalous plant life and the Tar-byproduct have infested the site. Site-7 Casualties: 184 Anderson Robotics, and the Church of the Broken God, have agreed to ally with the Foundation against SCP-7442. The O5 Council has begun a Foundation-wide implementation of Pandora's Arsenal (Weaponization and Adaption of anomalous objects within Foundation custody.) Warning: Terminal Connection Insecure Re:SUBJECT To: All Foundation Personnel From: The O-5 Council Subject: WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! GH-0 'Dead Greenhouse' Commencing All Hands, Lockdown Protocols are in effect. Deployment of MTF Squads Ongoing. ERROR: Neural Pathways Found Hello, Dr. Elisabet. Project Deucalion is still functional per Our Agreement. Site Staff has been informed. We will Carry the Torch into the Next Tomorrow. + Sysiphun-1 Disaster: Data Corruption Detected - Close Date: 21 June 202█ Exploration Team: Sysiphun Investigatory Taskforce Subject: Sysiphun-1/SCP-7442-Alpha Team Lead: Commander Eliza Amata Team Members: Agent Dacey Morales, Agent Bernard "Briar" McDaren, Dr. Sophia Elisabet (AI-Personage), Agent Malik Waller (Solo-infiltration, running parallel to main investigation) [BEGIN LOG] 6:42 AM CST-The three agents are seated within the confines of a helicopter. Commander Amata is checking her fresh augmentations, a paratech prosthetic arm, replacing the limb ruined by SCP-7442-Delta. Freshly healed frostbite scars mark the left side of her face. Agent McDaren stares out the window as he watches skyscrapers move past outside. Agent Morales is staring at her communicator, a conversation with Agent Waller visible on the screen. Agent McDaren: I can't believe they put it here. We get this wrong… it'll be another Shanghai. Commander Amata looks over at him. Commander Amata: The mess at Site-7 knocked the entities out of commission. Command isn't exactly certain for how long, but if we are lucky, this will be done before they are back in the field. Agent Morales shakes her head. Agent Morales: And if we aren't? A small drone activates next to the Agent, its single eye blinking to life, the hologram of Dr. Elisabet appearing before her. Dr. Elisabet: That reasoning is why your organization and their allies are evacuating the city with rather… curious abandon. Commander Amata nods. Commander Amata: Veil is already on the verge of being shot to hell. The GOC and some other MTFs have been given the go-ahead to remove the citizenry by any nonlethal means necessary, just in case. Dr. Elisabet: They are currently 76% complete with removing the citizenry. So, it will not be another Shanghai, Agent. Agent McDaren grunts and looks across to Morales, staring at the ground in concentration. Agent McDaren: You alright? Agent Morales scoffs. Agent Morales: No… There is something in the air, been building the closer and closer we've gotten. I'm used to feeling ambient thaumic energy like a buzzing in the back of my skull. Just never this intense. Dr. Elisabet: All the more reason for us to enter the site and seek our quarry with the utmost haste. Commander Amata: Agreed, you going to be good come touch-down, Morales? Agent Morales: It's background noise, Amata. I can tune it out when the time comes. Are you sure you'll be good? She smiles slightly, and Amata chuckles, spinning her robotic hand around and tilting her head as several portions begin to thrum and glow with power. Commander Amata: Been out of action long enough. Time to see what this little number our clicking friends gave me can do. What about you McDaren? The Agent nods, squeezing his fingers. Agent McDaren: Thinking about if this goes South. Sydney… it's a big city—a target. Son turns four in a week. My wife still has no clue where I am. Wondering what lie I'll have to cook up this time if she'll believe it. God, I hope I get the chance to hear her yelling at me. Agent Morales: I'm sure telling her no- McDaren scoffs, shaking his head. Agent McDaren: That I fight monsters for a living and that every nightmare you can think of probably has a face. I… I can't drop that on her. Not yet. Not when we have a chance to stop this here. Commander Amata: Then's make the Viking proud, eh? Morales and McDaren nod. Dr. Elisabet: If your commiseration has completed, we are here. The helicopter lands. 7:03 AM CST-The agents and the drone step out of the helicopter into the quiet streets of Manhattan. The Empire State Building can be seen rising above the skyline. The three agents are contacted on their earpieces. On the other end of the communication is Agent Waller preparing for solo infiltration. Agent Waller: You've got boots on the ground?" Commander Amata: Yes. Agent Waller: I'm in position. Agent Morales: I still think this is… Agent Waller: A foolish decision. But you all know who can be trusted right now is pretty up in the air. You do what they sent you to do, and I will do what's needed. That email was hinting at something. The agents look at the hologram, which is moving closer to their target location. Abandoned cars and apartment buildings with their doors left ajar surround them. In the distance, other Foundation personnel, GOC agents, and Church of the Broken God members set up thaumic defensive systems between the vacant vehicles. Commander Amata: You've got the green light? Agent Waller: Had it for 'bout an hour, been stalling for y'all. I'll keep in touch. Agent Morales: Are you sure we don't… Agent Waller: Need me? Nah, Amata has a few of my personal toys stowed away on that new arm of hers, and any doors that decide not to play nice, I am sure McDaren can muscle open now that the Bosses have loosened his leash. Agent McDaren: Or the dear Doctor could lend a hand. He nods towards the hologram, which has continued to move away from the group, weaving amongst the assembling defenses. Commander Amata: Right, we're burning what little time we have. Good hunting, Waller. Hopefully, we find what we're looking for. Agent Waller: See you lot on the other side. We crawl our way out of this mess. I'm buying drinks. The call ends. Amata and McDaren set out after Dr. Elisabet. Coopted security footage catches Morales faltering and clutching the side of her head before continuing after the group. —— 7:23 AM CST-The Agents and the hologram enter the 5th Avenue lobby of the Empire State Building, with the hologram approaching the mural. Agent McDaren: I still don't understand the logic of placing an anomaly of this level in the middle of a civilian population center. Dr. Elisabet: We did not. We are not so reckless. Sysiphun-1 is quite some distance from our current location. Agent McDaren: Then what are we doing here? Dr. Elisabet: This building rests atop a transportation hub Prometheus used to ferry their goods to a number of GoIs. Hacking the system to give us a proper entryway and impart a new locus for departure once the task is finished will be simple. You need only get me to the terminal. Commander Amata: Then lead the way. Dr. Elisabet: Physical integration is required. She points to a section of the wall. Dr. Elisabet: Remove that, please. The Commander turns to McDaren, who nods with a shrug and, with minimal effort, rips a piece of the masonry free of the wall, revealing a sealed-metallic door behind it with a complex encryption lock in the center. Dr. Elisabet: A moment. The drone projecting the doctor darts to the door, and the doctor vanishes, a thin cord emerging to interface with the lock. A moment later, the door unseals, revealing an elevator. Dr. Elisabet: Let us proceed swiftly. The agents move towards the door, but the Commander holds Morales back and raises her wrist computer revealing a message. Commander Amata: Waller says, stall her. 7:26 AM CST-Agent Waller stands within the Prometheus transport hub, a dimly lit octagon with an alcove in each wall and a central computer terminal, rifling through the terminal with codes he had stolen from Elisabet's programming during the events of Sysiphun-2. Any pertinent information he stores away. He turns as he hears the elevator begins to rise behind him. He taps his communicator. Agent Waller: Amata, keep her busy. She'll notice I've been here, but I would rather I get into this damn bunker of hers without her seeing me. Morales nods silently and enters the elevator. Dr. Elisabet: Are you ready? The doors begin to close, but Morales holds up a hand. Agent Morales: Wait, you said Prometheus wouldn't risk endangering civilians, but what about Sysiphun-2? Shanghai is drowning because of where you chose to cage Beta. The hologram stares at her, a glitch crossing its form. Dr. Elisabet: That was not always the case. It should have been rectified. Agent Morales: What do you mean? The hologram looks away from her, and the doors close, the elevator beginning a rapid descent. Dr. Elisabet: Regardless of a failure on the part of my organization. Shanghai would have been safe if you had done your job, Icarus. Agent Morales: I didn't know an AI could learn how to deflect. Dr. Elisabet: This conversation is not pertinent. Let us focus on the task at hand and do our jobs properly. Morales looks to the Commander, who nods, and the agent ceases her questioning. The rest of the ride goes on in silence. Cameras once again catch Morales massaging her temples. 7:36 AM CST-The team exits the elevator into the transport hub, and Dr. Elisabet looks about as she is ferried to the central terminal. Dr. Elisabet: No signs of the Byproduct. The mechanism's integrity should still be sound. Agent Morales flinches and rubs the back of her arms. Commander Amata: Morales? Agent Morales: The buzz is picking up again. But you said the target isn't here. Dr. Elisabet: It isn't. I have yet to gauge your levels of sensitivity to thaumaturgy. You might simply be sensing the mechanism. Another good sign of sound integrity. Agent Morales: I can handle that sort of ambiance this… it's like an echo of a roar bouncing around my head. Commander Amata: Morales if- Agent Morales: It won't affect my concentration when it counts. I'm good, Commander. The camera catches a faint green glow in her eyes that is missed by the other agents. Agent McDaren: How long will it take to get us to Sysiphun-1? Dr. Elisabet: But a moment. Her drone interfaces with the terminal, and a surprised expression crosses the hologram's face. Dr. Elisabet: Someone recently accessed the system. Proper credentials. They've entered Sysiphun 1. The mission may be in jeopardy. Commander Amata: Then get us in. The hologram looks at each of the Agents with a flat stare for a moment and then turns back to the console. Dr. Elisabet: Where is Agent Waller? Commander Amata: Not pertinent. We're on the clock. Dr. Elisabet: Very well. Opening the Way. A circular portal appears in one of the alcoves, a sleek metallic hall lit by flickering lights situated beyond. Dr. Elisabet: Should I keep the Way open for our departure from the Site? Commander Amata: With the other entities currently recuperating, ease of departure is the best course of action. Agent Morales approaches the portal and puts a hand to her temple, stumbling slightly. Agent Morales: The roar wasn't like an echo. It is an echo. It's coming from Sysiphun-1—an immensely powerful thaumic presence. The hologram flickers again, and McDaren shares a look with the Commander. She nods once, and he sends off a message with a tap of his finger. Dr. Elisabet: Concerning. 7:42 AM CST-Agent Waller looks down at his wrist computer as a message appears, moving through dimly lit tunnels, avoiding areas of corrosion. Agent McDaren: We're in. He pauses and types back a response. Agent Waller: Watch your step as you go deeper. Byproduct. He then looks up the hallway, his camera catching a knotted mass of green-black tar and pale fungus latched into the far wall. Agent Waller: And worse. He continues forward, carefully maneuvering between the increasingly present masses of fungus, mold, and leaking oil. He stops to examine one of the pools, which shifts as it flows from an unseen source. Agent Waller: Worst yet… worry about what that means for this place. He continues forward, eventually finding a partially risen door, and with a bit of maneuvering, can slip underneath it. Inside are the moldering remains of what was once furniture and a large computer terminal with several holographic screens and sound recording equipment. Beyond it is a set of wide windows too threaded over with mold and tar to see through. He approaches the terminal, avoiding the patches of Byproduct and rot, and carefully links his wrist computer to the device. The central screen flickers, and an image of Dr. Elisabet appears. The other screens show diagnostics of the facility and security footage, along with rambling documentation. Agent Waller: What do you have for me, Doc? His camera catches movement behind him reflected on the computer's screen. 8:06 AM CST-The other agents and Dr. Elisbet move down a curving hallway, flashlights mounted on their shoulders and the latter's holographic form providing additional light. The walls are sleek and intermittently broken by doorways and domed windows that show nothing but darkness beyond. Agent McDaren: Where are we? Dr. Elisabet: A facility within the Challenger Deep, the base of the Marianas trench. Agent McDaren: You hid one of these things at the bottom of the ocean… when another has complete control over water? Dr. Elisabet: There is nowhere on Earth that Her warriors could not find their fellows. Yet, we moved before all could fully awaken. Obfuscation was required, ergo Tiresius. Thaumaturgy often requires bonds to truly ensnare. Ergo their origin places became their cages. There were plans to move them. Luna was the preferable location, far from her as we could currently reach. But…other matters took precedence. Agent Morales: What other matters? The hologram stares at her flatly. Agent Morales: What aren't you telling us? Dr. Elisabet: I am sorry, but my memories are fragmentary. I do not recall why our plans never fully proceeded. I do not… we must find Duecalion and Subject Alpha. Commander Amata: Agreed. So which way? She gestures, revealing the group has come to an intersection. Pools of tar and small patches of fungus are visible. The hologram stares at them intently. Dr. Elisabet: Byproduct. This… this should not be here. This should not be here. This should not be here. The hologram flickers again, and the AI becomes stuck in a feedback loop for several moments. Commander Amata: Doctor? Doctor?! Agent Morales closes her eyes and raises her hand, a faint green glow coalescing around her fingers. Her arm begins to move as if being pulled on, Morales moving with it until she points down the righthand path. Agent Morales: Strongest, thaumaturgic presence is that way. Which should be Alpha, yes? She looks to the hologram, which refocuses. Dr. Elisabet: Yes. 8:15 AM CST-The four continue down the right corridor but pause as a holographic screen appears on the interior wall. On it is a paused video of a younger, excited-looking Dr. Elisabet. The video begins, and she claps her hands together. Recorded Elisabet: It worked! Just a moment, but in that brief glimpse…so much has changed. I will finish this report later. The others are too keen on celebrating. Agent Morales turns to the hologram. Agent Morales: It's… you. What are you talking about? Dr. Elisabet: Not me. The original doctor. Back when she believed. And that… doesn't matter now. We need to keep going. The hologram continues to move, but as it does so, more screens appear, showing the original doctor frozen mid-speech. Recorded Elisabet: Our latest venture has born fruit and proves my hypothesis correct! Throw convention to the wind! This world is an anomaly. In the Foundation sense, of course. Life is by no means only a norm of our minuscule corner of the universe. But… I got to see Her, our World when She was young! I am almost tempted to call it a religious experience. At glimpsing the past… I believe I have the answer for our future. Commander Amata: What is this? Dr. Elisabet: An attempt to make a grey world green. Agent McDaren: Deucalion? Dr. Elisabet: No. The next screen activates. The doctor seems to have not been sleeping, yet she smiles at the camera. Recorded Elisabet: We have delved deeper and discovered so much more. The Foundation attempts to hinder us, but enough of their own pots have boiled over that I know who will come out on top in this venture. Nevertheless we…. The hologram turns and looks at the video, and it freezes, code filling its eyes. Dr. Elisabet: Why is this playing? Is this the work of the intruder? For what purpose? Her tone rises, and the agents step back as her body fragments and then snaps back together. Dr. Elisabet: This… it is Foundation code. This is Waller. Why? Her head turns entirely around and stares at them. Commander Amata: We were meant to accompany you. I can not say anything about what other missions that Command had for him. I doubt, though, that this was the goal. Perhaps he tripped something. Dr. Elisabet: Commander, I am not a fool. He is too skilled for such a thing. This is purposeful. Agent McDaren: Does it matter? Is this tied at all to what we need to do? Why were we interfering with y-her work? Dr. Elisabet: No, it doesn't. You are right, Agent McDaren. Agent McDaren: That wasn't what I meant. The hologram continues forward, ignoring him and the video as it starts playing. Amata looks at Morales and gives her a pointed nod. Agent Morales types a message into her wrist computer. Agent Morales: She's on to you. What are you up to? A message comes back from Waller immediately. Agent Waller: Baring the Truth. She forwards the message to the others, who look down and share a confused expression but press on. Morales hangs back, staring at the video. Recorded Elisabet: We've learned that our history is a forgotten patchwork of mythic calamities and miracles. I have seen with my own eyes the origin of the Flesh and the coming of the Machine—the rise of a glorious city of obsidian and jade and its devastation. Agent Morales: Is what she just said tied to the artifacts that were lost at Sysiphun-2? Dr. Elisabet: What does it matter, Agent? This knowledge won't help us. We need to find the targets and leave. Anything else is an unwanted distraction. Another video begins playing. The Doctor looks rested and excited. Recorded Elisabet: She was there. Ever present in her great warriors, colossal elemental titans, forces of nature given form! We watched them protect, heal, and aid those that survived the previously mentioned threats. They ensured that She, that Life, could grow strong before returning to their rest. If… I can find them. The threat that the Foundation is willing to let transpire without intervention could be fixed. The hologram flickers again and looks to the ground. Agent Morales pushes past her compatriots. Agent Morales: What threat? The hologram remains silent for a moment and opens her mouth. Agent Morales: Don't tell me you don't know! Waller found the altered email. What do you know?! What threat?! What changed them?! S-you talk about them as if- Commander Amata: Dacey! The agent turns, her eyes gleaming green, and the Commander holds up her mechanical hand in front of her. Agent Morales: The world is at risk of ending because these guardians hate us! She knows something! She did something! So what was it? Commander Amata: Agent Morales, calm down. Morales blinks, looks momentarily confused, and steps back from the hologram. Agent Morales: I… Dr. Elisabet: I do not wish to cause you stress, Agent Morales, but I truly do not remember what my originator is speaking about. That was not my purpose. Agent McDaren: That purpose being? Dr. Elisabet: Containing the Typhon-Entities, upgrading Tiresias, and guiding able individuals to Duecalion. I have been stimied in my work. But failure is still at bay. I do not know what pushed my creator to do what she has. Another video begins. The recording is disheveled, her clothes covered in blood and ash. Fresh blood covers her hands. Tear streaks mark her face, and her eyes are vacant. Recorded Elisabet: I… I was wrong. They aren’t saviors. They are… extinction is simply… an autoimmune response… correction, not everyone. No, there is a true natural cycle to life. She stays abreast of Her children until a true threat arises. I-maybe we awoke the wrong one. A raging torrent when we needed… I don't know. My friend's blood is literally on my hands. I don’t know if we can survive them. I have to find her. I have to! We can fix this, no matter what…those brash fools have done. I will fix this! The hologram looks at Morales and turns away. Dr. Elisabet: Their God doesn't care about you. Whatever those beings said to you in the time before our meeting, they still kill wantonly. They maimed your friend, killed your commander, scarred you. Do you really believe you are to fault for their anger? It's all they know. To see a threat and destroy it. Morales says nothing, looking at the others. Commander Amata: Focus. This job needs to get done. Morales nods, and the others continue forward. Morales flinches, one hand going to her temple and the other to her nose. Her hand comes away with a small amount of blood. She touches her face again, and comes up dry, sighs, and follows the others. 8:40 AM CST-Waller takes off his camera and points it towards him, staring blankly ahead as if waiting for something. 8:42 AM CST-The central team enters a large domed room containing several computer terminals, desks, and other scientific equipment. However, much of it is barely visible beneath rot and fungus tendrils emerging from thick Byproduct pools. In the center of the room, a sizable transparent sphere filled with dully-glowing flames rests on a podium surrounded by a netted cage of runes. A plastic statue is sitting behind one of the desks, wrapped in a mass of fungus. Commander Amata: Byproduct, watch where you put your feet. Agent McDaren: It's miles worse than at 2, and that place's systems were fried. Code flares through the hologram's eyes. Dr. Elisabet: All systems remain operable. Containment is secure. Regardless this should not be here. Agent Morales: It's always been here. Commander Amata: What was that, Morales? The agent looks at her, confused. Agent Morales: What? The commander raises her robotic arm, and a scan passes over Morales. Agent Morales: What was that for? Commander Amata: Checking to see if your brain is right side up. Increased activity, heightened pulse, dilated pupils. I need you to be honest with me, Morales. Are you in top form? The deeper we've gotten, the stranger you've been- Agent Morales: It's that. She points to the sphere. Agent Morales: Just a constant roaring, battering against my mind like a jackhammer. Alpha. Fire. Her First. Commander Amata: Is it speaking to you? Agent Morales: Feelings and emotions that translate into words, but it is all very simple. Brutally so. I… it gave me a nosebleed. Commander Amata: Do you need to leave? The hologram's head twists around. Dr. Elisabet: We won't be able to release the sphere without her. Agent McDaren: Why? Dr. Elisabet: Her thaumic abilities are all we have at our disposal to pull apart the cage relatively safely. It is why I asked that you accompany me. Agent McDaren: Your lot didn't put a mechanical release on this thing? Dr. Elisabet: Too easy to interfere with in the chance that anyone discovered our work. Commander Amata: You asked for us to accompany you? Dr. Elisabet: In truth, any thaumaturge would have done. But Morales had prior experience with our wards, and the rest of you were added on at the Foundation's urging. Agent McDaren: And outside of maybe finding Deucalion, what do you believe we are here to do? Dr. Elisabet: Your jobs Agent. Securing and containing a monster. McDaren looks to the sphere. Agent McDaren: Seems like that's covered. Dr. Elisabet: This place is infested with Byproduct. The security of Sysiphun-1 is highly in question. Regardless, the Foundation will appreciate the resident entity entering their custody, correct? The Commander turns back to Agent Morales. She grimaces but begins walking towards the sphere, weaving through the rot across the ground. Commander Amata: Careful. Agent Morales: I know. What do I need to do? Dr. Elisabet: You are skilled in creating barriers and wards. You need simply do the reverse. Agent Morales: "Simply." Right, I'll start feeling it out. The rest of you find what we are looking for. She raises her hands, green energy coating them, and bows her head. She begins tracing her hands in the air, and a small opening emerges in the front of the cage. Dr. Elisabet: Commander, I require your assistance. The Commander walks towards the desk with the plastic statue behind it and then stops, staring at it and looking towards the hologram, which is also examining it. The hologram looks at her. Dr. Elisabet: The terminal is isolated from the mainframe, and the data ports are clogged with detritus. I need a new avenue of access. Commander nods and begins scanning the terminal. Commander Amata: It still has power. Think one of Waller's gifts will let me- Light shines along the side of the terminal, and a holographic screen project out of the commander's mechanical arm, and a wall of text begins scrawling upward. Dr. Elisabet: May I? Her projecting drone lowers a connecting USB and nods to the Commander's arm. The Commander nods, a port emerging on the side of her arm. Dr. Elisabet: Running a trace for any mentions of Deucalion or any other pertinent information. This might take a moment. Agent McDaren moves closer to the plastic statue and shares a look with the Commander. Agent McDaren: This is- Dr. Elisabet: The original Dr. Elisabet. Agent McDaren: What happened. The Byproduct? Dr. Elisabet: It is not pertinent to the current investigation. Take a sample if you wish, but we need to concentrate on Deucalion and the Typhon Class entity. Agent Morales strains against the cage, pulling it open further, though her arms are visibly shaking from the strain. Agent Morales: Foolish. Commander Amata turns to look at her. Her body camera catches the hologram pause and downloads a file unrelated to Deucalion. A shiver goes across its form. Commander Amata: Morales? Blood falls from the Agent's nose, and black ichor can be seen moving within it. Commander Amata: Morales?! She attempts to move but finds that she can't, her mechanical arm tugging against the rest of her body, eliciting a gasp of pain. Dr. Elisabet: It is just strain from the spell. I need to find Deucalion. Commander Amata: The information is already in my systems. Agent Morales falls to one knee, the thaumic energy surrounding her arms lashing out, long whips carving burning lines through the floor and striking against the cage, banishing the wards in flares of blinding green light. Agent Morales: I… I can't… I won't! Commander Amata attempts to wrench the cord out of her arm, but a bolt of electricity passes through her. Agent McDaren raises his rifle and fires at the drone, but the bullets crumple against its frame. Agent McDaren: The fuck is this?! Dr. Elisabet: A promise being kept. I- Screens emerge around the room, showing the past doctor once more. Recorded Elisabet: Failed. She wouldn’t hear me. They’re waking up and mean to kill us, and she won’t hear me! We don’t deserve this, and I begin to wonder if those I saw fall did either. The hologram accesses another file, ignoring the chaos all around it, and Amata is suddenly released, regaining the mobility of her arm. Dr. Elisabet: I have it. Commander Amata: Command will know about this. Dr. Elisabet: They already do. Duecalion is the priority, over anything. Recorded Elisabet: If she won't save us, then Prometheus will. If I can yet make her listen, then I will, but… I will not allow her to dictate our future. This world is ours. Project Duecalion will make sure of it. The Commander rushes towards Morales, who is screaming through clenched teeth. Commander Amata: Dacey- Agent Morales: I won't. I won't. I won't. The cage fully cracks open, and the flames within the sphere begin spinning faster and faster. Dr. Elisabet: Hull integrity is holding. We need to get it out of here now. Without the Eldest, we will have time t- The screens change, revealing Agent Waller, who is slowly rocking back and forth. Agent Waller: Time, always more time. Your species is addicted to needing more of it. The others turn to look at him, including Agent Morales, thaumic energy crackling across her body, blood beginning to spill from her nose. Agent McDaren: Waller? Agent Waller: But you can't allow others to have their time. To adapt. To listen. To live. Your forward motion is what matters. She didn't hear you. How could she, maddened from the pain of thousands of different bleeding wounds? You have tainted every part of Her. Why would one voice, one attempt, overcome all of that? Liquid begins to seep from Waller's eyes, his body twitching as a shadow begins to rise up behind him. Dr. Elisabet: We need to leave. Grab Alpha now! Agent Morales strains. The cage shatters into pieces, and she vomits a thick tarry substance. Commander Amata flinches backward, McDaren raises his gun, and Waller and Morales begin to ramble in unison. Waller/Morales: Five. There are Five. We thought Four. But Five, and many more to come: Alive! This One is Ours. We are Its. We let It in. Our mistakes. Our mistake. And so it takes. Morales falls to all fours, gasping for air, her whole body sheathed in thaumic energy. Agent Waller: You've had so much time, but I am here now. Dr. Elisbet learned what that meant, and so will you. He shudders, and his face begins to contort, shifting into a pale white plastic-like substance, Byproduct seeping from every orifice of his face. He stands, weekly clawing at his face, and then collapses offscreen. Agent Morales: No! I won't do it. You can't- She clutches her stomach and vomits forth a tide of Byproduct which begins to rise and shape into a vaguely humanoid form. Dr. Elisabet: Shoot her! Grab the entity! McDaren levels his rifle at the back of Morales's head. Commander Amata lunges for the sphere and wraps her arms around it, wincing at the heat cascading off of it. SCP-7442-Epsilon: No. It lashes out, slamming Commander Amata across the back, her body armor corroding and sprouting mushroom as it latches on to her. Another pseudopod lashes out, covering Agent Morales like a shield, the bullet sinking harmlessly into its form. The skulls and bones of various animals begin to push out of its body as the tide out of Morales's mouth ceases. She collapses to the ground, and it looks up with hollow eyes at the hologram. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Deucalion is the priority. She will be free of stagnation. The cycle will begin again. All else We do is a matter of principle. Amata snarls and pulls against the entity's grip, a gleaming blade of energy emerging from her arm and carving clean through its pseudopod. Agent McDaren drops his rifle, and his features begin to contort, swelling and shifting, but the entity ignores him. It looks towards the sphere. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Sister. Freedom comes. It flows after Amata, lashing out against McDaren as he attempts to charge, ensnaring his shifting body in a mass of acidic tendrils. It weaves around Morales, leaving her pointedly untouched, and grabs Amata around the neck. It wrenches her back and reaches out for the globe. The hologram vanishes, the drone darting away. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Flee ghost. Her trauma will end. There is nowhere you go I will not be. Morales rolls over and reaches out, energy coalescing around her fist. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Where We will not be. Morales screams, her skin peeling away to reveal green flesh underneath as the snarling bolt of energy flies free of her hand. The entity shifts, dragging the dying Amata around in front of it. The blast hits neither. Glancing off the sphere still tightly held in the latter's grasp—a small crack forms. A tiny whisp of flame rises into the air. SCP-7442-Alpha: Free. And then everything is swallowed in fire. 9:02 AM CST-Video taken from the other Foundation personnel shows flames racing up the outside of the Empire State Building until reaching the very top, which erupts into a massive wall of fire that swiftly spreads outward. [END LOG] Closing Statement: New York City has been lost. All Foundation and allied personnel within the city's limits are considered KIA. Any civilians remaining in the blast radius should also be considered KIA. The City is already overgrown with manifested foliage. SCP-7442-Alpha's current location is unknown. SCP-7442-Epsilon's current location is unknown. Dr. Elisabet arrived at the nearest Foundation site prior to the event thanks to the manipulation of the Prometheus Labs teleportation system. She enabled a secondary exploration team to be sent into Sysiphun-1, and former Foundation personnel Dacey Morales was found alive. Her body shows signs of a clear ongoing mutation, likely due to prolonged exposure to SCP-7442-Epsilon. She has been placed in a humanoid containment cell at Site-19, awaiting interrogation. The remains of the other agents were unable to be recovered. Description: SCP-7442-Epsilon is a mass of asphalt, liquid plastics, rotting plant/fungal material, and cerebrospinal fluid with markers of numerous extinct and extant animalia. It is able to manifest within itself the skeletal structures of animals whose extinction has a direct or theorized correlation to human intervention. The most common features are forelimbs ending in mismatched claws and talons and four skulls, each of a different species. Sketch of SCP-7442-Epsilon The fluid mixture that makes up its body corrodes manmade structures and machines, turning them into a fertilizer-like substance that encourages fungal growth or into more of the concoction that makes up the entity's form. Its effects on living organisms are more varied. Any nonhuman animal that comes in contact with the liquid gains heightened cognition and survival instincts. Domesticates immediately turn feral and attempt to escape their confinement, while wild specimens begin avoiding any form of human settlement. Humans that come into prolonged contact with the entity are affected in one of the following ways: Immediate manifestation of tar within the lungs leading to asphyxiation. Blooming of fungal bodies from within the circulatory system, causing the individual to die from exsanguination. Plastification of internal organs, most commonly the heart and brain. The plastic is biodegradable and also encourages the growth of fungal bodies. More common in individuals with High IQ or Latent/Active Psychic abilities. The effect is not immediate, and victims have been heard rambling dire warnings or declaring their intent to aid the organism, attacking other nearby humans. Amongst Individuals with Thaumic abilities, the entity parasitically attaches to the individual's nervous system. It actively attempts to turn the host against other humans, strengthening their thaumic capabilities. Those that resist most commonly liquify from the inside out, transforming into puddles of tar. Only one individual afflicted in this way has been captured by the Foundation. + GoI Status Following Manhattan Incident: Upload C0mplete - Hide Groups of Interest Declarations of Intent Global Occult Coalition Central member of the current alliance against the SCP-7442 instances. All Divisions and Field Agents have been remanded to focus on the extermination of the Type-Black entities. UIU forces have been consolidated into the organization for the foreseeable future. Tensions continue between the O5s and the 108 despite current necessities. The Church of the Broken God Secondary entrant into the alliance. The three major clerical sects have united behind Robert Bumaro. Following significant losses during the Manhattan Incident, the Church has ramped up the production of various experimental weapons and military-grade thaumically enhanced augmentations for their personnel and allied agents. The placement of several Mehkanite-based SCPs into the custody of the Church ongoing under the orders of the O-5 Council. The weaponization of said SCPs is commencing. Anderson Robotics Following the Manhattan Incident, Anderson Robotics approached the Foundation with offers to arm the alliance and offer additional robotic personnel. Tensions between the organization and Three Portlands are rising regarding -Delta's previous attack and the continued hostilities. Rumors of the Way to Three Portlands closing have begun circulation. The Serpent's Hand They appear to be in the midst of an internal civil war. Half of the organization has approached the Foundation regarding aiding the alliance. The other half has made known their intentions to aid the SCP-7442 instances. Manipulation by -Epsilon is under consideration. Tangentially, the Wanderer's Library, according to allied Hand members, has closed all ways and is divesting itself of Earth. Allied Hand members absconded with several texts referencing the SCP-7442 instances. Research of possible weaknesses is ongoing. Marshall, Carter & Dark MC&D have placed their substantial material wealth behind the Alliance. Their Agents are to work in tandem with Foundation Personnel in recovering any pertinent information or materials that could advance the alliance's position against the SCP-6342 instances and their growing forces. The Nälkä The various factions of the Nälkä culture are fracturing. Numerous Proto and Neo-Sarkic groups have joined with the alliance referencing a formally unknown event that leads their actions: "The Flesh's Parting from Mother Green." Other factions, including the Black Lodge, claim that they have become separate from humanity and will join in its purge as the SCP-7442 instances "hunting hounds." Nälkä and Mekhanite personnel are to be kept apart from each other under the direction of the O5 Council. Nälkä Augmentation of Foundation personnel has been authorized, starting with D-Class Personnel. The Fifth Church The Fifth Church view the SCP-7442 instances as heralds of their chosen deity, as they are five in number. Several small towns have already been wiped off the map from the Fifthest intervention. The alliance has chosen to commit a sizable force to execute any and all Fifthest presences, as their reality-warping capabilities will only strengthen the SCP-7442 instances' position. The Chaos Insurgency The Chaos Insurgency refused entreaties to put aside their long-standing rivalry in the face of extinction. Blaming the Foundation and other GoIs for the current state of the world, they have chosen to use the reallocation of allied forces to expand into previously inaccessible theaters. Their actions have only exacerbated the Mass Containment Breach caused by the emergent Green Covenant. Taboo The unnamed world is closed to humanity. A written response was discovered on the desk of O5-1: "Not our circus, not our monkies." The Green Covenant An emergent faction of traitorous Foundation personnel and SCPS with abilities connected to the natural world. Following the Manhattan Incident, numerous sites underwent mass containment breaches, as nature-based SCPs were released by personnel or broke out independently. Investigating the possibility of SCP-7442-Epsilon interference. Recontainment is not situationally sound at this time. Termination of any and all escaped SCP instances has been authorized by the O5 Council. Instances include: SCP-166, SCP-1836, SCP-5411 Her Stolen Spark Entry uploading 96% [] Ramblings of a Prisoner-Copy Complete. June 26th This is Agent this is Dacy Morales. Found this notebook and pen squirreled away in the cell the leadership had me tossed into. I can't remember how I got here. But, I know, I know I failed. There is something… inside. I can feel it, hear it. My skin is changing, I think… I think the guards outside are just waiting till I'm dead. No one will even look at me. June 28th No one has yet to come inside. To poke and prod and interview me, how I always thought this sort of stuff worked. The guards are still there, but all I can hear from outside are muffled announcements coming in on the intercom. Two days with no water, I should be feeling delirious. Yet… I feel as good as I have ever been. The skin on my left arm is fully green at this point. And in my dreams, I can hear it whispering, consoling me. It's keeping me alive. But I have no idea why. Luck, Morales, Luck is keeping you alive. June 29th I didn't write that. I pounded on the door for hours, asking for the guards to let me out. To do anything. But they ignored me. No acknowledgement. Nothing. Except for this notebook, the intercom and Epsilon. July 1st The dreams are getting worse. I think… I think I killed the others. Briar and Eliza, I… I… He had a son. And she… I never… The guards are gone. Someone looked in, breath fogged the glass. I lunged for them, demanding answers, anything. Just to know what I did. I think they were disappointed that I'm still here. I wish I was alone. But it's just sitting there, whispering in my ear, telling me that they want me dead. I feel my powers strengthening, it urging me to use them. Break the door. Break the Foundation. Finish this as if it can't. As if they can't. But the Intercom debates that. I hear about their newest targets. Bunkers. Launchpads. Free Ports around the world are under siege. I'm not necessary to this. And their message is pretty clear; we can’t hide. We can’t run. But… I can try. Luck got you here like we said. But we're keeping you on the board. You can't get out that easy. You'll wake up, and you'll read this and know: We're together in this until the end. Until it's all broken down. July 7th We're still here. Like it said. But I'm not sure about anyone else. Just the intercom. Site-01 is gone. The Titans put everything they had in wiping out the O5s. No one knows if any of the Council survived. But they won u-the Foundation time. So I don't think another mutating woman in a cell matters much to them anymore. July 18th. No food or water for weeks. Yet I have never felt stronger. I can feel the others now, a faint thrum beneath my feet, a cold tickle along my spine. They're pulling themselves back together. The fight continues The Foundation claims they are prepared. So says the Intercom. Even as other humans turn their coats. And so we sit waiting. July 27th Moscow's gone. That is my life now, listening to declarations of defeat and whispers in my dreams. Every night it returns and offers me the way out. The one it wants. I refuse. It feed's me the other's voices… all so different. Yet, united in purpose. All committed. So, it must be a delusion that I feel resignation thrum through the earth beneath my feet. London holds. August 4th New players enter the fray. Containment breaches, all over. Some I don't think they expected. The Young Blood The Griever The Lady of Ice Feels like they've been waiting. Some of the staff as well. But I'm not going, even though I can feel the need bone-deep at this point. You'll have your day in the sun. August 16th It's gone quiet. Sept. 23 The Intercom is back. A final push. Not sure who is on the back foot. But I think I h- The door to Morales's cell opens. Standing in the doorway is the hologram of Dr. Elisabet. Morales stumbles to her feet, green thaumic energy coursing up and down her arms. The doctor looks at her with narrowed eyes. Large sections of the latter's skin has taken on a bright green hew, and her eyes shine with jade light. Dr. Elisabet: Come along, Agent. She turns and leaves the cell. Morales: Wh-What is this? Dr. Elisabet: The way out. For all of us. Morales scoops up the notes she had been writing and stumbles out the door after the doctor. She winces as a thin tendril of SCP-7442-Epsilon emerges from the back of her neck, a rodent-like skull emerging. It begins speaking in her ear. SCP-7442-Epsilon: You can't trust her. This is all her fault, to begin with. You know that. Morales ignores it, pushing the skull away. The hologram looks back, glaring at the entity. Morales notices that nothing is projecting the Doctor this time. Morales: What… what happened to you? What happened to the others? What did I do? The hologram looks back at her and reaches out, tapping Morales on the shoulder. A crackle of thaumic energy erupts at the physical contact. Dr. Elisabet: It is a marvel what the end of the world does to scientific advancement, particularly when all limitations are pulled away. She continues moving, with Morales sticking close behind. The site in which the latter was being held appears to have been abandoned for some time. Dr. Elisabet: As for what you did, well… I believe you were trying to help your fellow agents against the Titan that had-has been parasitizing you. She glances between Morales's green skin and the tendril of -Epsilon emerging from over her left shoulder. Dr. Elisabet: Yet, your thaumic attack struck the container of Alpha and freed it. The conflagration was disturbingly impressive. Morales: What happened to Bernard? To Eliza?! The doctor ignores her, continuing forward. Morales's face contorts momentarily before a radial burst of green thaumic energy erupts from her body, slamming several doors and sending random debris flying. Morales: Please. Elisabet looks back at her with an impassive expression. Dr. Elisabet: They're dead. Morales falls to her knees. Morales: I… SCP-7442-Epsilon: You knew that. Morales: I needed to hear it. The doctor kneels before Morales and puts a hand on her shoulder, opposite the one -Epsilon rests on. Dr. Elisabet: Yes, you had a hand in their demise, but you can make up for that, for everything, if you just come with me now. Morales: How? Dr. Elisabet: By joining me at Deucalion. Morales: I… She stands up and walks away, not looking back to see if Morales is following. 7442-Epsilon begins speaking in the latter's ear again. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Go with her. She glances at it. Morales: Why? You just told me- SCP-7442-Epsilon: Not to trust her, and shouldn't. But you should go with her. Now. Morales gets to her feet and runs after the doctor, grabbing her by the shoulder as she reaches her. A pulse of energy flares between them again. Morales: You take me there. You take this as well. She gestures to -Epsilon. The doctor and the entity stare at each other silently for several seconds. Elisabet grimaces, sighing. Dr. Elisabet: We have no time. Risks must be taken. Come. The doctor access the Prometheus Labs teleportation system and manipulates it to deposit the trio at their desired location—the middle of a war zone. Fires burn in every direction, and the storm-filled sky is filled with hail, lighting, and tracer fire. The ground shakes beneath their feet. Morales clamps her hands over her ears and bunkers down as a shrieking missle rockets over their heads. Glancing up, she can see Dr. Elisabet running up a hill before them. She follows. Morales: Where are we?! Dr. Elisabet: Yellowstone. Morales falters, and -Epsilon coils further up her shoulder. They crest the hill and look down upon a valley where two large armies clash. The defenders, the Foundation's Alliance, are arrayed before a dome of emerald energy. Mekhanite constructs standing shoulder to shoulder with Nälkän abominations, towering over the other defenders as they attempt to hold against the incoming tide. The attackers, SCP-7442 instances, and their followers: various weaker anomalous entities and members of GoI's that turned against humanity. The former are not physically manifested on the battlefield, but their presence is felt. Pillars of fire, flying rivers, skin-sheering winds, randomly opening chasms. Morales clutches her head. Morales: They know we're here. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Our bond leaves you open to them and to Her. Look. The entity nudges her head towards the dome, and Morales's pained expression changes to one of resigned tranquility. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Can you hear her? Morales: I c- Dr. Elisabet: Agent! We need to move! She points, and Morales looks up, spotting a spiraling mass of fast-approaching snow and wind. Morales: Delta. SCP-7442-Epsilon: He'll kill you. Regardless of the bond. Run! The doctor begins sprinting down the hill, heading for the Dome with Morales right behind, her body crackling with thaumic energy as -Delta grows closer and closer. A spire of stone erupts from the earth right before -Delta can slam into Morales, causing the wind to part around her. It manifests in -Delta's baseline form, glaring down at her. A shadow looms over her, as from the earth, SCP-7442-Gamma manifests, much larger than before, its formally smooth skin pitted and craggy. SCP-7442-Delta: What are you doing?! SCP-7442-Gamma: My purpose. Delta snarls, and lightning flashes across the sky, tearing into the distant Foundation forces. SCP-7442-Delta: Your purpose is to kill all of these parasites! -Epsilon retracts into Morales's body as the two instances glare at each other. The Doctor continues towards the dome. SCP-7442-Gamma: My purpose is to protect Her. She can pass the wall. We cannot. A lightning bolt burns a line in the ground before the Doctor, forcing her to stop. SCP-7442-Delta: She's working with Her jailer! -Gamma looks down, staring at Morales for several moments. SCP-7442-Gamma: And yet she carries our youngest sibling with her. -Delta growls, lightning flashing behind them. SCP-7442-Gamma: Go continue your purpose, Little Brother. I will take care of this as is fitting. -Delta hung in the air for several moments, glaring down at Morales, and then he was gone, racing back towards the battlefield, thunder following in his wake. -Gamma looks down at Morales and glances towards the Doctor with narrowed eyes. SCP-7442-Gamma: Do you trust the Ghost? Morales looks to Elisabet. Morales: No. But I saw… who she used to be. The doctor turns and begins walking towards the dome. SCP-7442-Gamma: So did I. She never listened. But you-you did. The entity turns towards the conflict raging at their back and lets out a low long sigh. SCP-7442-Gamma: I have no wish to see this through. I simply want Her free. Morales: And the others? SCP-7442-Gamma: Too set in their ways or too much like your kind. Too angry. Too despondent. Lost without her direction. Morales: I-I'm sorry. For what the Foundation, for what Prometheus did that led us to this. But Humanity doesn't deserv- SCP-7442-Gamma: I do not know if you can fully apologize for a crime you have yet to learn. But… I agree with you. Perhaps some will live to see a new dawn. Those that joined us. I wish… I wish we had more time before it got to this point. To learn, to teach, to aid. Morales: A lot of innocent people would still be alive. -Gamma nods. SCP-7442-Gamma: Go find Her. End this stagnation. A stone wall erupts from the ground blocking their passage toward the dome from the battlefield. Morales: And if I can't end this in the way you hope? SCP-7442-Gamma: Then the others were right. And I am a fool. Now go. Deucalion awaits. Morales turns, looking at the Doctor, and sets off without another word. The pair run towards the dome, the Doctor passing through the curtain of energy without pause. Morales hesitates for a moment but steps through, her body contorting as energy crackles across her body. She stumbles but rights herself, looking up to Elisabet. Dr. Elisabet: You truly trust those beings more than I? Morales: Your-your creator's actions started all of this. Somehow. Something you claim you can't explain. I've seen the videos of her descent, her desperation. So what did she do? What happened that caused Them to hate us all so much? The doctor grimaces and walks, heading further into the dome's interior. The interior appears untouched by the devastation outside. Dr. Elisabet: They already hated us. She hated us. -Epsilon reemerges from Morales's spine, clacking its teeth at the doctor. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Says the woman who never took the time to truly listen. Too clinical. Too cynical. Dr. Elisabet: My friends were murdered! For trying to understand, to listen! Morales blinks. Morales: You're not the copy. Dr. Elisabet: Sysiphun-1 was the final precaution. My mind waiting for the many homunculi I had created in my mission to save us, to protect our world. I had hoped they wouldn't be necessary. -Epsilon chuckles. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Apologies. Dr. Elisabet: We've wasted enough time. Deucalion must be used. Even if the parasite must bear witness. SCP-7442-Epsilon: I dogged your footsteps the entire path, Doctor. I was always going to be here. Waiting. The doctor's form crackles and wavers, her face contorting in anger. Morales: Enough! Enough, end of the world, grudge match, misunderstanding gone horribly wrong, I don't care! People are dying! She is dying! Do either of you care? Why am I here? What is Deucalion? Why do either of you need me? Thaumic energy courses from her into the ground, causing ripples to pass through the grass. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Well, doctor? Let's not waste any more time. The doctor turns and raises her hands, the ground before her parts, revealing aged metallic doors that open to a descending staircase. Dr. Elisabet: Deucalion was to be our salvation. SCP-7442-Epsilon: It was to be Her torment. The trio continues further down the staircase as it winds downward, metal walls set with flicking lights surrounding them, occasionally broken by a set of doors, behind which sat dilapidated hallways, labs, or server rooms. Morales: Is there a reason you both went quiet? She glares at the back of the Doctor's head and then turns to look at -Epsilon. SCP-7442-Epsilon: I hoped the dear doctor would attempt to illuminate you first. Morales: Then tell me, where is everyone? Waller found recent emails, so wha- Dr. Elisabet: Your former comrades are either out there fighting or seeing to the part of the Deucalion system they directly over-see. Morales: And Prometheus? The doctor gestures down a hallway, and Morales turns to see that it is filled with a chunk of -Epsilon, which begins to flow after them as they pass. SCP-7442-Epsilon: As I told the doctor, everywhere she went… Dr. Elisabet: It had already been. More innocent people dead because of that parasite. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Hardly innocent. Hardly people, after all, they'd done to keep this meat grinder you call Savior working. Morales: What is Deucalion? I'm tired of the vagaries, the threats, the promises. You need my help for whatever twisted reason, so tell me! Dr. Elisabet: Just a moment more. They continued in silence for several moments before Morales looked up suddenly, looking around in confusion. Morales: Do you hear that? The others look at her. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Yes. Dr. Elisabet: What? Morales: Screaming. The doctor turns back around, and her head hangs slightly. Dr. Elisabet: No. Several minutes later, the trio exits into a large domed room, the walls made entirely of obsidian covered in inscriptions of various North American fauna, past and present. A small selection glows with faint green light, while the remainder is dark. A metal staircase leads down into the chamber's center, where a large silver mechanism surrounding a glass cylinder stands. A net of cables and pipes hangs from the ceiling, all funneling into different sections of the device. Flickering holographic screens emerge as they approach. Pooling around the device, with about a foot distance marking an unseen barrier, is a manifestation of SCP-7442-Epsilon. The mass quivers and rises as Morales and the doctor descend the stairs. Morales: This is… An ursine skull pokes free of the larger -Epsilon manifestation and begins to speak. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Once one of Her many havens, a safe place to recover and dream, to guide the shifting of your world in peace. It growls and bears down on Dr. Elisabet. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Until this one chose to turn it into an unending nightmare! Morales walks around it and looks within the glass, a guttering green light held within. Morales: Ixchel… She also turns to the doctor, green energy crackling through her. Morales: Explain. Now. The doctor laughs, a bitter and resigned expression on her face. Dr. Elisabet: I didn't want to make this. But She had come to believe we weren’t worth the effort! She was going to move on without us. SCP-7442-Epsilon: You were carving her apart! Dr. Elisabet: Not all of us! Some of us were trying to help Her! I was trying to help her! Morales: This is helping? She steps closer to the machine and passes through the barrier, crying out as the portion of -Epsilon is pulled out of her, unable to pass through the barrier. Morales blinks and turns back. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Now you see why I haven't finished this already. The squirming section joins the rest of the entity. Morales looks back to the doctor. Morales: Keep going. Dr. Elisabet: She was going to remake the world, just as she had before. Cut out the infection and start over. But we did not need to live or die by the whims of some unfeeling god. -Epsilon growls. Dr. Elisabet: We worked with the Foundation to complete a failsafe. One that would allow humanity to survive. Plans had already been in place due to the number of beings that sought to end our way of life. But we realized a problem. She shifts forward, staring at the guttering light within the device. Dr. Elisabet: Several actually. We were able to recreate humanity. Cloning flesh and thought is easy, but… they all lacked a spark. True life. People that only follow orders are fine when you're rebuilding the world, but not to be the world. Several of the remaining lit inscriptions go out. Dr. Elisabet: And then there was the fact that Humanity would need resources to rebuild for time to follow a proper flow again. Remaking the world took more than just… some concrete, elbow grease, and will. Your leaders didn’t just want a reset button for humanity. They needed something greater. A world reforged, and she stood in ou-their way. The doctor gestures to the wider mechanism. Dr. Elisabet: And I had the answers. We needed her. But she didn't need to be in control anymore. Morales steps back, examining the device, and her eyes widen. Morales: Gregor mentioned that Prometheus could travel through time. Sonark that was- Dr. Elisabet: My greatest achievement for some time. It gave me the insight required- SCP-7442-Epsilon: To butcher Her all the more. Dr. Elisabet: That was not my original inten- Morales: You altered the machine to force her to reset to before whenever things went wrong? So we could continue carving away at Her resources? To feel the same pain over and over again? For how long?! Dr. Elisabet: It was only meant to be used once! Then I would have made my amends, try and make her listen! She wasn't the only threat coming. I was saving us! Her too, she just couldn't—she wouldn't listen! Morales: How long?! Dr. Elisabet: That isn't on me! The Foundation, you, and all the other Icaruses inside that organization couldn’t stop poking and prodding at things that never should have been bothered! Another inscription dies. Dr. Elisabet: I can’t say… how many times we have walked this road. But she is dying… Morales turns back to the glass, laying a hand against it. Morales: She's screaming. Dr. Elisabet: I-I can't… Morales: You expected her to hear you, but… did you ever really try and listen? Or were you too convinced of your own righteousness? The doctor closes her mouth and looks away. Morales looks to -Epsilon. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Do you understand now what my Siblings and I have been saying? This Stagnation has to end. Now, before we lose Her forever. Destroy Deucalion, and remove humanity from the equation. Let the Cycle finally continue, as is natural. Morales: All of us? That's what She wants? -Epsilon is quiet. Morales: The two of you should have finished this already. I should have been dead in a cell months ago, so what do you need from me? Why am I here? She stops turning suddenly, staring at the glass intently. Morales: Did you…see that? -Epsilon shakes its head. Morales: Go on then. Dr. Elisabet: I can't activate the final failsafe. That is why I have brought you here. Two cylinders emerged from the machine, the interiors shaped to lock around an individual's arms. Dr. Elisabet: You, Dacey Morales, are a thaumaturgist with the ability to feel and study ambient magic through your inborn connection to leylines. When trained, as you have been, you can directly manipulate thaumic connections, binding or severing them. Like I once could. SCP-7442-Epsilon: You are directly connected to a part of Her. Her synapses, her nerves. Morales: But that is not a unique-there are many others you could have drawn into this scheme of yours. -Epsilon chuckles darkly SCP-7442-Epsilon: Once. As I said before, you got very lucky, Morales. Dr. Elisabet: I looked, and all I found had been turned or killed. You are my last chance. Morales: Then what are you asking me to do? Dr. Elisabet: The failsafe allows you to take what is left of Her into yourself. With it… you would be able to sever the Titan's connections to the leylines. Killing them. Finally. Morales: And She would…die as well? The doctor nods. Dr. Elisabet: Yes. Deucalion would take time to repair after that, but Humanity would be able to continue. SCP-7442-Epsilon: A whole world for one people that never treated Her fairly. Dr. Elisabet: One soul for billions. Morales turns to -Epsilon. Morales: And the alternative is billions for one? SCP-7442-Epsilon: Yes. Morales: You're sure that is what she wants. SCP-7442-Epsilon: I-it has to be. Morales looks up at it for a moment, a realization crossing across her face. Morales: You… you’re directionless, aren’t you, what Stone was saying. You don’t know what She meant you to be. Why? SCP-7442-Epsilon: I am unfinished. Morales: What do you n- The entity lurches forward, slamming against the barrier, heedless of it burning them. The last inscription fails. SCP-7442-Epsilon: You. Together. We can find our purpose. The one I know to be true. Have Her light in our eyes. Give me direction as long as we destroy this place. Allow her to rest while we continue the work. You can save those like you. We can give our Siblings a true purpose again. Not just instinct or anger. We can have purpose. Hunt down the actual infection. You need simply let me in. Dr. Elisabet: I will not allow that! Obsidian shatters as various hi-tech turrets emerge from the walls. SCP-7442-Epsilon: Oh, doctor, you know you can't hurt me in any way that matters. The doctor points, and the guns refocus on Morales and Deucalion. Dr. Elisabet: Can't I? She turns to Morales. Dr. Elisabet: The outer barrier has fallen. The Others will be here in moments. Decide! Morales looks between them and turns around, putting her forehead against the glass. Morales:It can't see. She won't listen. All leads to death. I don't- Her: Please. Morales's eyes snap open. Her body is shrouded in snapping green energy. She lifts her hands, and green runes begin to snap to life across Deucalion. Doctor Elisbet/SCP-7442-Epsilon: Stop! Morales: Help me. The barrier around her drops, and they both lash out at her. A wall of obsidian encircles her blocking her off from them. Stone begins to emerge from the ground, the other SCP-7442 instances racing in, roars, and shouts echoing about the chamber. She lays both of her hands on the device, and green fire begins burning up her arms—the glass cracks. A sigh of relief echoes through the chamber, followed by a blinding eruption of green light. HER Entry Complete: 100% Scanning for active Foundation facilities. Transfer to Area-12 Commencing. [] Description: SCP-7442 is the last shard of the soul of our world. Special Containment Procedures: She must remain free. A Final Message Good Bye We hope this reaches someone. It took some time to compile. Elisabet was very thorough. We are not sure what has become of us. What we are. Savior, Defiler, and Jailer bonded in one. More, we are unsure. But we have a purpose. She calls to us. We do not know what comes next. What will become of Humanity. If the Fight is over. But what We do know. Is there are No More Second Chances. And if this is the end for the-Us. To whoever comes next, whoever might find this. Be good to Her. Be good to yourselves. There are no Second Chances. With that, we leave you. For we must rise to face… A New Dawn Footnotes 1. Triceratops 2. Styracosaurus 3. Pachyrhinosaurs 4. Suevite is a rock consisting partly of melted material, typically forming a breccia containing glass and crystal or lithic fragments, formed during an impact event. 5. Snowy Owl 6. References the KT Extinction Event that wiped out the dinosaurs. 7. Dimetrodon 8. Dunkleosteus 9. SCP-1000 10. Trilobite ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7442" by Arclund, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7442. 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: Bunker Author: Jusotil_1943 License: Public Domain Source Link: [https://www.flickr.com/photos/46322086@N04/39258052164/in/gallery-196078346@N05-72157721613492816/] Filename: Gamma Author: IllustradedMenagerie License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: [https://www.deviantart.com/illustratedmenagerie/art/SCP-7442-GAMMA-975973300] Filename: Delta Author: IllustradedMenagerie License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: [https://www.deviantart.com/illustratedmenagerie/art/DELTA-975973469] Filename: Beta Author: IllustradedMenagerie License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: [https://www.deviantart.com/illustratedmenagerie/art/BETA-975972853] Filename: Alpha Author: IllustradedMenagerie License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: [https://www.deviantart.com/illustratedmenagerie/art/ALPHA-975972162] Filename: Epsilon Author: IllustradedMenagerie License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: [https://www.deviantart.com/illustratedmenagerie/art/EPSILON-975974119] Filename: New Dawn Author: IllustradedMenagerie License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: [https://www.deviantart.com/illustratedmenagerie/art/NEW-DAWN-975973986] |
SCP-7443 | thaumiel | close Info X Check out my other works: The Conspiracy to Murder. A lesbian love story between two literal lovebirds. SCP-500-EX. A con-artist scams the Foundation for several years with the Placebo Effect. SCP-7656 A man getting tortured for decades, broadcast for thousands across America to see. SCP-7185 A mysterious drink deforms a group of friends bodies, until they die off one by one. PoI-7443-A. ITEM #: 7443 CONTAINMENT CLASS: THAUMIEL Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7443 material is to be kept in a standard anomalous item locker in the research wing of Site-73. Clearance above Level-3 is required to access samples of SCP-7443. Technology developed with SCP-7443, upon being approved, is to be used primarily by MTF Alpha-1, as dictated by an O5-Council vote following Incident-7443-1. Public information regarding Incident-7443-1 is to be monitored by Foundation webcrawlers and agents. Deliberate information is to be spread to manufacture artificial uncertainty regarding the validity of information spread pertaining to Incident-7443-1. Description: SCP-7443 is a metallic material with an unknown atomic composition that maintains perfect energy retention, which when touching the uncovered body of a subject, will result in a drastic rise in subject's stamina, strength, endurance, resistance, intelligence, and physical healing for an indefinite period of time. SCP-7443 has a tensile strength of 964 MPa, with a density of 10.24 g/cm³. SCP-7443's effects amplify when a high amount of kinetic energy is rapidly applied to the material. Excess kinetic energy exerted on SCP-7443 material will be rapidly expelled in the direction in which the force was applied. Approximately 154.891 kG of SCP-7443 is currently in Foundation possession. PoI-7443-B. Discovery On June 14th, 1995, MTF Iota-10, "Damn Feds", intercepted reports from the Los Angeles Police Department concerning an armed assault on an S&C-P1 armored car, resulting in the expiration of one civilian and the serious injury of another. Recovered Witness Log-7443 Civilian Witness: Daniela Wreden Interrogator: Johnathan Joaquim Joaquim: Clearly state what you witnessed to the recording device. A small tap is heard as Joaquim sets the device in front of Wreden. Wreden: God, it was all so fast. I was just pulling into the gas station to fill my car, and I heard gunshots behind me. Joaquim: Did you get a good glimpse of the assailants? Wreden: No. No, I didn't. They were wearing armor and I was trying to run into the store. They moved like a blur whenever I looked at them. Joaquim: They were wearing armor and fast? Wreden: Yeah, while one was aiming at us and telling us to get inside the other ripping apart the truck. Then when the other started firing they pretty quickly got in. Joaquim: And you can attest that the suspects in question shot both guards present? Wreden: Yeah. One of the guards got behind him and shot into his helmet from a few feet away. I didn't even see them turn around to shoot him by the time he was on the ground. I tried to look away but- Silence is heard for 7 seconds. Joaquim: What about the second guard? Wreden: I think they fired at him after. I don't know, a cashier dragged me into the store to get away. All I remember is whatever armor they were wearing being marked "DGS". Joaquim: All right. Thank you for your time. Medical personnel from the Survivor Comfort Program will administer some medicine soon to help alleviate the memories of what occurred. The device is turned off. Seized security footage was altered to exclude potential anomalous visual information being leaked. Due to the number of civilian witnesses, a cover story was devised that the incident was a standard armed robbery. Two further incidents were recorded including both PoI's involving the robbery of two separate S&C-P locations within Los Angeles. Both incidents were suspected to be committed by the same individuals by the identical armor worn, and the style of a robbery conducted within the span of a few minutes. Despite initial detainment efforts, both PoI's were able to escape Foundation efforts due to the speed in which their robberies occurred. Search efforts were relaxed in November 1995, and containment teams were relocated from the area. Incident-7443-1 On Febuary 28th, 1996, a Foundation agent withdrawing personal finances from a S&C-P location in Northern Hollywood, California, United States, witnessed both PoI's entering said S&C-P location whilst wearing SCP-7443. The following is a transcription of a radio call sent to Area-09 by Agent Felix Kampstra. Kampstra: Two PoI's have been spotted entering a S&C-P facility at the intersection of Laurel Canyon Boulevard and Archwood Street! Believed to be 7443-A and -B! They are heavily armed and gunfire has been heard from within the location. Requesting the immediate deployment of any personnel in the area to aid in the containment of both PoI's and the securing of a perimeter close to the location. Area-09 Command: Nearby assets have been liquidated to assist in containment. Further forces are being placed on stand-by. Note: The majority of S&C-P employees are unaware of the existence of the Foundation and consist of civilians. As such, no armed personnel were present at the location at the time. Post the conclusion of Incident-7443-1, any and all security/media footage containing the incident was seized and analyzed prior to being altered and re-released to the public. Security Footage | 09:16 A.M. P.D.T. PoI-7443-A grabs a civilian and throws them to the floor before shooting into the ceiling. PoI-7443-A: This is a holdup! Get down! PoI-7443-B runs to the teller door and shoots the lock off before grabbing the assistant manager, Brady Bachmann. PoI-7443-B: Show me where the vault is! PoI-7443-B walks towards the vault. The vault is opened and lockboxes are shown. Bachman and PoI-7443-B empty $750,000 into various bags. PoI-7443-B: Where's the rest of the money? Bachmann: What? PoI-7443-B: No funny shit. We know there was a shipment of money earlier. Bachmann: There isn't- there isn't none- I mean is no money here- here right now. PoI-7443-B: Shut the fuck up and give me the money! As PoI-7443-B attempts to extort further money from Bachmann, PoI-7443-A secures hostages within the lobby. PoI-7443-A approaches a security guard. PoI-7443-A places a gun on the back of the guard's head. PoI-7443-A: Whenever I tell you to, you are going to lead everyone in here to the vault and stay there. PoI-7443-B walks into the room. PoI-7443-B: Shipment didn't arrive today. PoI-7443-A: Try the ATM's. We just need to hurry up. Hey, you! PoI-7443-A aims his gun at the security guard. PoI-7443-A: Do what I told you. The security guard escorts the hostages to the vault while both PoI's exit the bank. At 09:24, Foundation agents assumed defensive positions around the bank and prepared for an altercation with both PoI's. PoI-7443-B attempts to destroy ATMs located on the exterior of the bank to recover further funding. PoI-7443-A witnesses armed Foundation agents and opens fire. All agents take cover and do not expose their positions to open fire at the PoI's. Five agents and twelve civilians are struck in the initial fire by PoI-7443-A. After four minutes of continuous fire, both PoI-7443-A and PoI-7443-B begin firing at Foundation agents and proceed to the car over the next three minutes. Both PoI's take turns providing covering fire to allow the other to proceed to the parking lot. Dye packets placed within the bags detonate, covering the majority of the money in a red dye. PoI-7443-B: God dammit! PoI-7443-A: What? PoI-7443-B: The money has dye packets in them. Just went off. Both PoI's drop the moneybags and turn around the corner to the parking lot, where coverage of the conversations and actions of both PoI's is not recorded by the bank security cameras. Approximately 14 Foundation agents were initially dispatched in the primary detainment efforts. Due to the lack of prior awareness of the incident, and the lack of armed personnel present, agents were armed mostly with standard handguns and wearing LAPD uniforms. Ground-level bodycam footage and audio | 09:28 A.M. P.D.T. All personnel on-location were designated TTFA-12 through TTFA-14 at the time. As more agents arrived at the scene, they were accordingly designated "TTFA-X". TTFA-1: Stay down! Stay down! Shots fired! TTFA-8 fires at PoI-7443-A. PoI-7443-B fires at the car that TTFA-8 is taking cover with. TTFA-2: Can't do shit to them with these. TTFA-4: There is a gun store 'round here somewhere that we can take weapons from! TTFA-14: Is it worth using civie weapons? TTFA-10: Look at what they are using. We need firepower! TTFA-1: 4, 5, get some weapons from there. As TTFA-4 and TTFA-5 exit, the exchange of gunfire between them and the PoI's continues. Gunfire hits TTFA-9 and TTFA-6. Both enter a civilian dentist's office to receive emergency treatment. TTFA-1: Shit. We're losing men! TTFA-1 reaches for his radio. TTFA-1: Area-09, agents are down! We need help! PoI's are opening heavy fire! I repeat, PoI's are opening heavy fire! Dispatch reinforcements! TTFA-2: Should we switch to the shotguns? TTFA-1: Not worth the risk retrieving them. Difference would be minimal. TTFA-12 is injured in the leg, and retreats to the dentist's office with TTFA-9 and TTFA-6. TTFA-1 fires a shot at PoI-7443-B, striking a direct-hit on his head. PoI-7443-B is seen clutching his head and leaning against a car, leaving bloody hand-prints against the car, confirming the direct hit on his head. PoI-7443-B ceases firing at agents and enters the car both PoI's were using. PoI-7443-A opens the car trunk and restocks his ammo, while maintaining fire at Agents. TTFA-2: Why isn't the car running? TTFA-14: Engine damage? TTFA-13: Soon as they go it's practically a free shot outa here. Sure as shit don't have enough firepower. TTFA-4: Time to fix that. TTFA-4 and TTFA-5 approach two clusters of Foundation agents and hand them rifles and semi-automatic weaponry. TTFA-1: Hand those out to as many personnel as you safely can. PoI-7443-A reaches into the car for an unknown reason, however, upon several agents opening fire PoI-7443-A is struck in the arm, and is prevented from utilizing it to aim at TTFA agents. PoI-7443-A uses his arm for the remainder of the fight to lay the gun against and raise it. Gunfire continued between the PoI's and agents for 20 minutes as agents continued to fire at PoI-7443-A while approximately 24 reinforcements arrived. Foundation paramedics entered the zone to provide first-aid to injured agents, despite orders to remain back due to the risk of injury from either PoI.3 TTFA-14 would enter close in proximity to PoI-7443-A and take cover behind a cement wall that separates the bank from a nearby neighborhood. PoI-7443-A began to fire rapidly at TTFA-14, securing two shots on TTFA-14's person while TTFA-14 hit PoI-7443-A's armor three times, including one shot in an unprotected gap in his armor along his waist, prior to a successful retreat. PoI-7443-A would continue to ignore the direct hits. After 14 minutes, the O5-2 and O5-4 approved the temporary emergency deployment of some members of MTF-Alpha-1, "The Red Right Hand", in order to assist in the detainment/neutralization of the PoI's. Ground-level bodycam footage and audio | 09:39 A.M. P.D.T. PoI-7443-B leans over to the car window and begins giving covering fire as PoI-7443-A restocks their ammo. TTFA-8: Second hostile is alive and opening fire! Take cover! TTFA-2: Any of you got an idea when Alpha arrives? TTFA-1: 'Round 10 minutes. Just keep fire constant! PoI-7443-B opens a door on the side of the car that PoI-7443-A is standing beside. PoI-7443-A closes the door without entering. TTFA-2 fires a shot directly into PoI-7443-A's gun, forcing him to switch to a Type 56 Assault Rifle, which suffers numerous jams through the remainder of the incident.4 TTFA-1: Keep firing! He's probably down to his last bullets. PoI-7443-B begins driving the vehicle out of the parking lot, while PoI-7443-A utilizes it as moving cover while providing covering fire. At the time the car had two flat tires, at was moving at low speeds. TTFA-1: PoI's are on the move! Keep a safe distance. All TTFA members pursue the PoI's while maintaining safe firing distance. PoI-7443-A runs ahead to take cover behind a tractor-trailer, while PoI-7443-B drives in front of the trailer to wait for PoI-7443-A. PoI-7443-A appears to lose track of PoI-7443-B, and stays behind the trailer without knowing where PoI-7443-B is. TTFA-1: The two are separated, keep them isolated! TTFA agents split in two to attack both PoI's. TTFA-13 proceeds towards PoI-7443-B, before opening fire at the vehicle, causing PoI-7443-B to rapidly exit the location without PoI-7443-A. Agents proceed with fire at PoI-7443-A, and strike him twice in the back. One of the shots struck PoI-7443-A's subclavian artery, causing mass bleeding. TTFA-5: First hostile's almost down. Legs are uncovered, aim for- TTFA-5 is struck by PoI-7443-A in the stomach, although shortly after PoI-7443-A's Type 56 jams, at which point PoI-7443-A racks the gun repeatedly, rendering it unusable at the moment.5 PoI-7443-A drops the Type 56 and grabs a handgun while crawling under the trailer. TTFA-13: I have eyes on hostile. Gonna draw him out from there. TTFA-13 strikes PoI-7443-A a further two times, at which point he exits from under the trailer and starts slowly walking into the road while occasionally firing with the handguns. TTFA-1: All units move in! Hostile is poorly-armed and appears to be dazed. Gunfire continues until one shot strikes PoI-7443-A's hand, causing him to temporarily drop the handgun. After 14 seconds, PoI-7443-A crouches down, grabs the gun, and shoots himself in the head. Neutralizing himself. TTFA-2: Hostile is crouching. TTFA-1: Just reloading! Continue fire! Gunfire into PoI-7443-A's corpse for 43 seconds, until personnel approach PoI-7443-A's expired body and deem him dead. 6 members of MTF Alpha-1 arrived shortly following the neutralization of PoI-7443-A. All Alpha-1 members were dispatched to deal with reports in the nearby area of a third, previously unknown shooter hiding in a nearby civilian house.6 Ground-level bodycam footage and audio | 09:46 A.M. P.D.T. PoI-7443-B re-enters in proximity to PoI-7443-A's expired body. PoI-7443-B exits the vehicle and salutes PoI-7443-A's corpse prior to opening fire at nearby officers and moving back into the vehicle. TTFA-2: Second hostile spotted near first hostile's corpse! TTFA-2 and TTFA-1 open fire at PoI-7443-B. PoI-7443-B approaches a civilian truck and opens fire through the windscreen, causing numerous small cuts across the civilians person. The civilian exits the truck after activating a kill switch on the truck. PoI-7443-B does not notice, and begins to load ammunition and weapons into the truck as TTFA members approach. TTFA-8: I have a visual on hostile! Opening fire! PoI-7443-B exits the truck and seeks cover behind his original vehicle. Firing continues for 2 minutes and 30 seconds until PoI-7443-B grabs an AR-15, and continues fire. TTFA-7 is struck three times by PoI-7443-B. TTFA-2: Does anyone have a clear shot? TTFA-1: I do. After 28 seconds, TTFA-1 moves to the other side of PoI-7443-B's vehicle and hits him 3 times in the chest until PoI-7443-B returns fire. TTFA-1 takes cover under the vehicle. TTFA-2: You okay 1? TTFA-1: Affirmative. I have a visual on hostile's legs! Maintain rapid fire! TTFA agents maintain rapid fire on PoI-7443-B for 8 seconds until TTFA-1 begins fire at PoI-7443-B. PoI-7443-B notices and aims the gun down to return fire, striking TTFA-1 8 times. TTFA-1 makes several effective hits against PoI-7443-B's legs, until successfully striking his hand and forcing PoI-7443-B to drop the AR-15. PoI-7443-B raises his arms and goes on his knees in surrender, however, TTFA-1 maintains fire at PoI-7443-B for 14 seconds striking him 6 additional times in the buttocks and leg. TTFA-2: -B has surrendered! Cease fire! Cease fire! TTFA members close in on PoI-7443-B while paramedics and TTFA-2 approach TTFA-1. TTFA-1: -B's detained? TTFA-2: Yeah. How much have you been hit? TTFA-1 coughs. TTFA-1: Hell if I know. TTFA-2: Stay focused, okay? Stay awake. TTFA-1: Few hit my chest. TTFA-1 coughs blood. TTFA-1: Think they might've gone in my lungs. Paramedics escort TTFA-1 to an ambulance while driving to an emergency Foundation-medical-outpost in close proximity. Ground-level bodycam footage and audio | 10:01 A.M. P.D.T. TTFA agents approach PoI-7443-B. TTFA-13 places their gun against PoI-7443-B's head. TTFA-13: Stay the fuck down! PoI-7443-B: Kill me ya fuckin' sonsabitches! PoI-7443-B is handcuffed, and has weapons on his body removed. PoI-7443-B: Why don't you put a bullet through my head? TTFA-2 approaches PoI-7443-B. TTFA-2: Is there a third gunman? PoI-7443-B: Lean me over and- TTFA-2: Stop resisting. What is your name? PoI-7443-B: Pete. TTFA-2: Pete what? PoI-7443-B: Pete go fuck your mother. You'll all regret it when they come to bail us out. TTFA-2 reaches for a radio. TTFA-2: Hostile is detained and uncooperative. There may be a third PoI nearby, so remain on the lookout. PoI-7443-B: Coming here and invading our nation! We will make you pay for this! TTFA-2: -13, stay with me to secure the hostile. The rest of you, secure a perimeter and get civilians away. After the retrieval of TTFA-1, all paramedics and non-TTFA members were isolated from the area as it was believed there may have been the risk of a third PoI. Paramedics only began to enter the scene at 10:12 A.M. P.D.T. Foundation paramedics on scene were given an according designation of "PM-X". PM-4: Area safe yet? PM-1: Probably not. But we need to help the injured civs! PM-4: And if there's still shooters present? What happens if they shoot at us? PM-1: There most likely aren't any. PM-1 through PM-4 enter the area. PM-3: B even alive anymore? PM-2: He's just… Lying there. PM-1: Considering how much he was shot probably not. We'll keep an eye on him, but 3, 2, go to the houses to see if any civilians need help. PM-4: Then you and me? PM-1: Help anyone around here. PM-2 and PM-4 depart to nearby houses as PM-1 and PM-4 head to assist a bleeding civilian. PM-1: What's your name? Koike: James Koike. PM-1: Alright James, do you have any injuries other than the cuts on your face? Koike: Nah. Koike winces as the blood is cleaned from his face. Koike: Hurts like a bitch though. PM-4: What happened? Koike points to PoI-7443-B. Koike: That asshole. Koike points to PoI-7443-B. PoI-7443-B remains still. Koike: Was trying to steal my car then made some glass break over my face. PM-1: No other injuries? Koike shakes his head. The PM's treat Koike for his wounds over the next 254 seconds before noticing PoI-7443-B slightly moving. PM-4: B's still alive. PM-1: What? PM-4: He's moving. PM-1: Shit! Okay. James, will you be okay? Koike: Yeah. Both PM's move towards PoI-7443-B. As they approach, TTFA-2 and TTFA-13 draw their guns from their holsters. TTFA-2: What're you doing? PM-1: Moving to help B. TTFA-2: It's not safe around here. There is a high likelihood of a third PoI coming back to try to free -B. PM-4: If we don't treat B he might expire. TTFA-2: We will not risk losing manpower to save him. Especially not after they killed 1. TTFA-13: The civilian also seems to have life-threatening injuries. You should probably focus on saving him first, even after everything you already did. That's what the "P" stands for. "Protect". PM-1: And what if B bleeds out? PM-4: Is it worth it? PM-1 turns to PM-4. PM-1: What do you mean? PM-4: If we treat B and a third PoI comes out to attack us, not only do our own lives get risked but if they kill us we won't be able to treat any more civilians. TTFA-13: Look at the hostile. Do you really think you can save his life? PM-4: Is it worth potentially saving one life if we risk several more? TTFA-2: Just take the civilian and move him away from the zone. PM-1 and PM-4 take Koike and leave the area. 10:48 A.M. P.D.T PoI-7443-B coughs. PoI-7443-B: Fuck you all. TTFA-2: Keeping up the pleasantries? PoI-7443-B: The DGS'll just send more people after you. TTFA-13: What does the "DGS" even stand for? PoI-7443-B: Do-Good. TTFA-13: This is you doing good? PoI-7443-B: Anything against your group is good. We are protecting our values against your infiltration. We are fighting for our countries freedom! TTFA-2: And you're happy about all of this? PoI-7443-B: Will be for a million years. TTFA-13: What about the "S"? PoI-7443-B: Shit yourself. TTFA-13: The Do-Good, shit yourself? PoI-7443-B: Yeah. TTFA-13: C'mon, what's it actually stand for? PoI-7443-B: Society. PoI-7443-B expired at 10:51 P.M. P.D.T. from bloodloss sustained via gunshot wounds. Due to the perceived danger in the area at the time, and the corresponding testimony of all TTFA and PM personnel on-scene, it was deemed unavoidable to comply with procedure and prevent PoI-7443-B's expiration. TTFA-1's medical condition stabilized approximately 14 hours and 11 minutes later, at which point a process of recovery began. It was the only thing we could do. We all know it turned out to be false, but the risk was why we did not intervene. It was simply too high, all for a murdering gunnut who injured 41 people, Foundation or civilian. Keep in mind that prior to this event, the two PoI's had brutally murdered a civilian all for a bit of money. The world is better off without these two threatening those whom we try our hardest to serve. -Johnathan Joaquim Joaquim testifying to the O5 Council. Despite immediate search efforts conducted by Alpha-1 to find a potential third PoI, involving the commendable rapid dismantling of potential barricades established in nearby civilian homes, no third PoI was located. All properties owned by either PoI were seized and searched for SCP-7443 and possible exterior anomalous connections. Numerous illegal-weapon-manufacturing laboratories were discovered, although no anomalous material was located. The following note was discovered at PoI-7443-B's personal residence. Greetings, new allies. After concerning your application, we have decided to accept both of you into our ranks. In the box, are two suits of armor that are the best invention conceived since the creation of Lightning in a Bottle! You already are aware of what task you have been assigned to, that you have already been trained for. You will have a few days to take some time to get used to the armor given. Until then, get ready for your deed to the society. -Mary Johansson, External Affairs Division, D.G.S. In the hours prior to the seizure of further personal properties of both PoI's, civilian witnesses attested that unidentified persons were seen entering the each premises and remaining for an unspecified period of time prior to exiting while carrying cardboard boxes. Further investigation into the researchers, and the, "Do-Good Society", is ongoing. Access Armament Policy Log.04|11|1996 [LEVEL 4+ ACCESS REQUIRED] -close logs. O5 Increased Field-Unit Arms Vote O5-1: Let's keep this short. We've had quite a few meetings about what occurred in February already. Closing thoughts? O5-2: The best way to deal with a threat is not to hold back. It is to use as much as we can to neutralize it. O5-6: Why hold back? O5-3: Because it creates an unnecessary risk to the veil, missions, and informational retrieval. O5-2: I call the dozens injured a larger risk. O5-7: A risk caused by us moving experienced personnel outside of the city. O5-2: Because we have so few that well armed available! O5-1: Enough. We are not here to debate, we are here to cast our votes. O5-11: And ignore that they let a valuable asset bleed to death for nearly an hour? O5-1: We are not here to discuss that either, 11. O5-11: And so I suppose that you soon shall reward the boy whom burnt down the house with enough fire to let the village alight. YEA NAY ABSTAIN O5-1 O5-3 O5-2 O5-4 O5-5 O5-7 O5-6 O5-10 O5-8 O5-11 O5-9 O5-12 O5-13 Footnotes 1. Stanford & Clarence-Picot, a civilian company owned by the Department of Finance in order to gain funding for the Foundation. 2. Temporary Task Force Agent. 3. All paramedics who displayed such behavior were formally commended for their bravery during the incident. 4. Said jams were believed to be a result of prior damage sustained to the gun, making it faulty. 5. Due to both the time necessitated to fix the jam, and the injuries PoI-7443-A had sustained at the time. 6. All reports were later confirmed to be false. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7443" by VapidPoem, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7443. 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:Emil Mătăsăreanu, Glendale, California, 1993.png Name: File:Emil Mătăsăreanu, Glendale, California, 1993.png Author: City of Glendale License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Emil_M%C4%83t%C4%83s%C4%83reanu,_Glendale,_California,_1993.png Filename: File:Larry Eugene Phillips, Jr., Glendale, California, 1993.png Name: File:Larry Eugene Phillips, Jr., Glendale, California, 1993.png Author: City of Glendale License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Larry_Eugene_Phillips,_Jr.,_Glendale,_California,_1993.png Filename: File:Fitzhugh Mullan testifying .jpg Name: File:Fitzhugh Mullan testifying .jpg Author: U.S. Senate Photographic Studio-Frank Fey License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Fitzhugh_Mullan_testifying_.jpg |
SCP-7444 | pending | SCP-7444 — God on Rye Written by Jack Waltz ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} Item#: SCP-7444 Level5 Containment Class: pending Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: none Risk Class: none link to memo A photograph of an M-type giant star located in a distant exoplanetary system. The light emitted by the star was recorded to travel 0.8% faster than the speed of light. Special Containment Procedures: The Foundation currently has insufficient knowledge to prevent the effects of SCP-7444 and thereby return the universe to its non-anomalous state. Attempts to establish or find a new Regulator are ongoing as of April 19, 2022. Failure to do so will result in the possibility of a ZK-Class "Reality Failure" Scenario. Should it become apparent that SCP-7444 cannot be mitigated adequately, the Foundation should immediately begin preparing for a Broken Veil incident. In such an event, the secrecy of the Foundation need not be maintained. All resources necessary should be used to somehow avert the ZK-Class Scenario, or Operation LIFEBOAT is to be initiated. Description: SCP-7444 refers to a sudden anomalous phenomenon that is believed to have begun on April 19, 2022, wherein all universal scientific laws began deteriorating in their absoluteness. At the time of writing, all previously determined scientific laws have failed to adequately describe universal phenomena in 2.76% of scenarios. This percentage is noticeably rising at an alarming rate. Following an investigation, it was determined that SCP-7444's occurrence was due to the absence of a Regulator, a necessary component to carry out the appropriate tasks needed to maintain a universe in functioning, absolute order. At the current rate of deterioration, the civilian population is likely to notice the effects of the phenomenon by May of 2022. Addendum 7444.1 INVESTIGATION RECORD — 19.04.2022 Four hours after SCP-7444's effects were first noticed by the Foundation, two experienced agents and a liaison from the Department of Universal Affairs (DUA) were assigned and readied to investigate the cause of the phenomena at Location of Interest ALPHA. Their intended mission brief was to identify SCP-7444 and possibly negotiate its stabilisation. ▼ OPEN EXPEDITION TRANSCRIPT ▼ ▲ HIDE TRANSRIPT ▲ [BEGIN LOG] Schultz:. Mr. Leonardo Schultz, DUA agent. Mic check. Equipped and ready. Benjamin:. Mx. Dakota Benjamin, DUA agent. Check. Escobar:. Ms. Baylee Escobar, DUA liaison. Yes, check. Command: All right, we're going to take one last look. Two operators assist the three agents, readjusting several components of their Spatial Tethering Harness suits and reconfirming that they are fully sealed and operable. Command: All good. Get in the pod. Schultz: Aye. The three enter single-file and board the Spatial Penetration Vehicular Pod. Schultz, the last person to get in, sits up front and closes the pod's canopy. Sealing protocols activate. Command: All systems green. Boosters powering up. Launch sequence initiated. Strap yourselves in fellas, and prepare for a ride. Jumping in three, two, one. Benjamin whispers: Benjamin: Blast off. All three agents cover their eyes as a bright white light, accompanied by neon streaks, shines through the canopy. The growing g-forces, although significantly reduced by their harnesses, make this difficult and they simply resort to closing their eyes tightly as they pressed heavily against their seats. Command: Speeds increasing and closing in on the threshold, currently at 7 GV. 8 GV. 9 GV. Threshold reached! Brace! A loud pop is heard. With the barrier broken, the pod begins slowing down and the bright light is instantly replaced with a view of patterns and subtle colours from the distance. Command: All right. Status? Schultz looks behind at everybody aboard the pod. They nod. Schultz: We're good. Command: Great. You're on a nominal trajectory for LoI-ALPHA, we aren't seeing any complications ahead of you, at the moment. We're going to reactivate the boosters, and brace once more. Three, two, one. The pod significantly accelerates, speeding through space towards its target destination. Command: Note that comms may go down any moment at this point, proceed as instruc— [static] Benjamin: Heh, well, what do you know? Schultz: All right then, I'm taking the flight controls. Ben? Benjamin: Yep, void mapping. We're good, sent the coordinates to your terminal. Schultz: It's gonna be a smooth ride. There is silence for a small duration. Benjamin: So, Baylee. Escobar: Yes? Benjamin: You good? I heard it's your first time on missions like this. Escobar: Well, heh, I guess? This is definitely new to me, especially a mission like this, you know? Benjamin: Totally, I'm getting you. Escobar: Well, I was the only person available on such short notice. It's not like they could wait around for someone else, especially for this, so yeah, I guess I'm in for one experience this trip. Schultz: Well, rest assured, you could say we're a bit new to this too. Well, not exactly. Just that we haven't made much rounds there anyway. Benjamin: I just suppose it speaks to how big of a deal this place is, Level 5 classified and all that. We done this a bunch of times, yes, but honestly, not that much. Escobar: Hah, well, I guess. Escobar sighs. Benjamin: Come on, now. You don't have to talk like that, you might be on your way to a promotion after this. This mission's just giving you a boost up. Escobar laughs. Escobar: That's if it all goes as planned. Schultz: Oh, don't be pessimistic. We want this to succeed as much as you do. Benjamin: Just go with the flow, it sure can't be too bad. You've done this before, right? Escobar: Well, not too much in Universal Tongue. Benjamin: Oh. Schultz: So that's why you're nervous. Escobar: Well, yeah. Benjamin: Come one, talk to me, I'd say I'm kinda fluent. Escobar: Uh, okay, um. [speaks in UT].. Translated to: "We come in peace?" Benjamin: Simple, but perfect, but, uh, what about a more complicated sentence. Escobar: Like? Benjamin: Anything, really. Schultz: Uh, we would like to negotiate our planet's safety against several unidentified extraterrestrial threats making their way towards our star system. Benjamin: Now that's a mouthful, don't you think? Escobar: Hehe, well. [speaks in UT].. Translated to: "We would like to negotiate this planet's spark from a few threats from space making their way towards the Solar System." Benjamin: [speaks in UT].. Translated to: "Safety." You messed up a pronunciation a little. What you said meant "spark," so you gotta keep that in mind. Even a small error could change a word's meaning, a lot. Escobar: Ah, well, let's hope I don't botch this up then. Benjamin: Oh, no, you're definitely better than the average fella. Don't be discouraged! You're good! Escobar: Hah, thank you. Benjamin: No prob. Schultz: Mhm, Ben? Benjamin: Oh, ah, yep. Uh, no change in course is needed. We'll be there in, uh, well, about right now. The thrusters power down as the pod begins drifting at a steady speed towards a massive structure ahead. The structure itself appears to be a wall stretching all the way across observable space and encompassing all sides. Constructed from a metallic surface with an immediately apparent artificial design, a single opening in the wall emits a strong beam of light. The craft moves towards it. Escobar: Woah. Benjamin: The end of the universe, literally. Did they brief you on this? Escobar: No, no they didn't. Well, actually they did, but I didn't think it'd look like… this. The pod moves towards the opening and enters it before activating landing protocols. The pod is successfully docked and the canopy is opened. All three exit the vehicle. Despite the black metallic appearance on the exterior of the wall, the interior is brightly lit and the floor, walls and ceiling are purely white with no blemish. Escobar: My god, this place… Schultz: Oh, it's gigantic. Benjamin: You haven't even seen half the place. Well, neither have we. Schultz and Benjamin walk to the side of the pod and open a storage hatch, retrieving their pulse weapons and arming them. Schultz: Well, let's not gawp too much Baylee, we still got a job to do. Escobar: Oh, yeah… yeah. Let's go. The two escort Escobar further into the structure at a steady pace. They're moving towards an entrance to a larger chamber located at the end of the room. Escobar: So, this Regulator, is here? Schultz: Says it always was, that's all we know really. Benjamin: It's big. Not comparably as big as this place, but still pretty big. Escobar: I've been told it's usually very calm, uh, collected. Easy to reason with? Benjamin: Would say so. It's never had that much of a temper, as far as I remember. Escobar: Well that's good to hear. Uh, personality-wise? Been told it likes— Schultz: Flattery. Escobar: Yeah, flattery. Benjamin: Oh, man. It loves it. I mean, it took such a liking to the last guy that came here, and now they've now got probability-messing gimmicks! Nothing ever happens to him aside from promotions! I think they're pretty high up now on the ladder right now. Escobar: Huh. Schultz: It is how it is. All right then. Here we are. You ready? Escobar takes a deep breath and looks up. She looks back down and nods. Schultz nods back, and pushes the door open. Inside the new chamber, all manner of old panels, terminals, buttons, and other unknown contraptions and devices are visible. Exhaust pipes continuously release a viscous dark fluid which rises up into the room's ceiling where vents actively collect the substance. Aside from the cluttered environment, in the centre of the room is a luminescent golden liquid on the floor, spilt, smeared and splattered across the floor. Beyond the puddle is a human figure, simply wearing a red and white striped shirt and pants, cutting a hole in the wall using what appears to be a pocket knife. They fold and place the knife in their back pocket and, grunting, push the wall aside, enlarging the breach. Schultz and Benjamin take a defensive position and train their weapons on the figure while Escobar appears to be in a state of surprise and confusion seeing the figure. The figure notices, and, with a look of alarm, hesitantly lift its hands up. Schultz: [speaks in UT].. Translated to: "Identify yourself!" Unidentified: Uh… hi. The figure nervously smiles and slightly waves at the three. Schultz: I said identify yourself! Who are you? Are you human? Unidentified: I, uh, I mean I don't want to tell you my name, but, uh, I'm human. So who are you? The figure, now fully facing the three, visually appears to be a man of South Asian descent and is of slim build. The front of their clothes is wet with what appears to be the aforementioned liquid on the floor. The same substance is on their face as well, though wiped off. Benjamin: What are you doing here? How are you even here. You haven't even got a suit on. Schultz: And more importantly, where is the Regulator? Unidentified: Uh, the Regulator? I don't know what you're talking about. Schultz hesitates for a moment and looks at Benjamin, who does the same to Schultz. Benjamin: It. Unidentified: It? Oh, it… uh, yeah, um, are you, by any chance, talking about him? The figure gestures towards the puddle on the floor. After a pause, an expression of shock appears on both agents' faces. The figure nervously chuckles. Schultz: You-you— Escobar: You're saying that you killed God? Unidentified: Well, I… I suppose so? There is silence for a moment. Unidentified: Aren't you guys, human too? How are you here? Schultz: We're asking that from— Schultz looks towards Escobar. Escobar: But why? Unidentified: What do you mean, "why?" Escobar: Why did you… kill… God? Unidentified: Oh, uh, well, that's the only way I could get out of this place? Escobar: This place? Unidentified: Yeah, here, this place, this universe. Escobar: And you killed God, to do it? Unidentified: Uh, yeah… Escobar: But, does that make you, God? Unidentified: I… don't know about that, actually. Escobar: But you killed it, right? That… puts you up on the top… and, well, we at least need you to take up its spot, for the benefit of everyone, this entire universe even. Unidentified: Oh, uh, sorry. I'm not, like, quite into this "God" business. Real sorry. Like, I've watched him for a while, doing his thing, I don't know something like paperwork. But, yeah, I honestly can't say I feel like I'd enjoy it. Besides, I have my own thing to be doing. Escobar: Ah, I see, well, all right. That's okay, but, could you at least tell me how you managed to… do it? Unidentified: What do you mean? Escobar gestures towards the puddle. Unidentified: Oh, well, I just did something that came to mind, you know. Like, nothing that special. But, you know, I always figured that God would have tasted better? There is a moment of silence. The figure subtly licks their lips. Unidentified: Well, then, uh, got to go! Escobar: No, wait— Schultz fires at the figure, however, they duck, causing the projectile to pass over their head, hitting the wall next to the breach. The wall is partially deformed from the impact. The figure runs towards the breach and jumps out into trans-universal space. Escobar runs towards the hole and peers outwards. Escobar: Shit. [END LOG] ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7444" by Jack Waltz, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7444. 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: star.png Author: Chris Laurel License: GNU General Public License Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-7445 | pending | SCP-7445 — Saluting Jack Written by Roundabouts. ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} BY ORDER OF PROVISIONAL SITE-358's ADMINISTRATION The following file concerns an anomaly that is currently under investigation. Documentation may be inaccurate. SCP-7445 Item#: SCP-7445 Level4 Containment Class: pending Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: caution link to memo Fig 1.1 — Tunturi in Savukoski, circa 1971. Special Containment Procedures: As SCP-7445 was recently discovered and little is known about the anomaly's nature, behavior and properties, a proper set of containment procedures cannot be established yet. Provisional Area-358 has been established in order to properly investigate the anomaly and have better access to LoI-NW/107. Fig 1.2 — LoI-NW/107, circa 1971. Description: SCP-7445 denotes an anomaly located beneath LoI-NW/107 ("Palavataivas Observatorio"), an observatory located in Savukoski, Finland. The only way to reach the anomaly is believed to be through the observatory's southernmost compartment, which leads to SCP-7445 through a steep spiral stairway. Additionally, a golden placard reading the words "Кëцka-1; Апрель 1959"1 can be seen on SCP-7445's door. SCP-7445's only anomalous property consists of its inaccessibility. Out of all the 19 attempts carried out by Foundation personnel in order to try and breach SCP-7445's entrance, none have proven successful. As such, SCP-7445's contents are currently unknown. SCP-7445 was originally discovered by Provisional Area-358's Communications Department following the interception of a report detailing the discovery of a previously unknown room within LoI-NW/107, although no researchers could enter it. No blueprints of the observatory included SCP-7445. Addendum 7445-1: CONTAINMENT LOG — 19.02.19712 ▶OPEN ADDENDUM◀ ▷CLOSE◁ SCP-7445 was originally contained by the SCP Foundation on the morning of February 19th, 1971, following the anomaly's discovery. As SCP-7445 was occupied and heavily guarded by members of GoI-358 ("The Abnormal Interactions Command"), a field agent ("Operative бáвиерa / Bávyera") was dispatched to terminate the station's occupiers. DATE: 19/2/1971 FIRE TEAM: Dispatchment-A34/Bávyera.3 FOREWORD: Agent BV34 was armed with 3 AM-B2s to mass amnesticize station personnel clustered in single rooms; 10 ST/Class-A amnestic syringes to individually administer to separate and isolated personnel; and a silenced Makarov PM to terminate any necessary personnel. Agent BV34's primary objective was to amnesticize all of the station's personnel and contain them within a single room for later termination or extraction by MTF Samekh-358 ("Stuck in the Sauna"). The following log details the mission, as successfully performed by Agent BV34 and commanded by Dr. Ilya Námachov. The following log has been translated from Russian, respectively. [BEGIN LOG] (Footage begins recording. BV34's body camera pans up to record the entrance to the Palavataivas Observatory. It's nighttime outside and BV34 is wearing a flashlight.) BV34: Námachov. Command: BV34. (BV34 raises his flashlight and his gun, and slowly walks towards one of the station's walls.) BV34: What's the current demographic status of the base? (Rustling paper can be heard over the radio, followed by a short pause.) Command: Base is currently at 11 personnel. Activities are unknown; all comms are heavily restricted and protected as to avoid interceptions. BV34: Roger that. What should I do, Command? (Wind resonates across the radio, partially lowering Námachov's volume.) Command: Proceed to the closest entrance. If possible, try and breach any of the station's secondary access points. BV34: There's only one entrance. (Silence.) Command: …Right. Breach the entrance, then. And try not to make any noise. BV34: Got that. (BV34 crouches and slowly closes up to the station's door. The wind begins to strengthen as BV34 sticks to the facility's door.) BV34: Námachov, I can hear one… No, two people walking along the entrance's hallway. (Silence.) BV34: They're walking from one point to another; side-to-side. Command: I gave you a pocket arsenal, Bávyera. You don't need to tell me everything that is going on. BV34: Right, right. (Silence.) BV34: One… BV34: Two… BV34: Three… (Short pause. BV34 kicks the door wide open, and bursts into the hallway. Just as soon as he breaches onto the hall, he grabs a guard by the chest and stabs a syringe into his neck before knocking his rifle to the floor.) (Another guard, situated at the end of the hallway, raises his own rifle and aims at BV34, who quickly pushes the injected guard aside and pulls out his Makarov. He throws himself to the floor and slides forward before aiming his gun up at the guard, and shooting him in the chest twice.) (As the guard's chest bleeds a pair of bloodstreams, he screams and frantically shoots at the floor in an attempt to take down BV34. The agent quickly stands up and chokes the guard against the wall before stabbing another syringe onto his neck. The first guard stands up from the floor, picking up his rifle, and clumsily aims at BV34.) BV34: Fuck. (The guard tries firing at the operative twice. BV34 shoots him in the leg, making him stumble onto the floor before dropping his rifle. As the amnestics' effects begin kicking in, the guard falls limp.) BV34: Námachov, there were two guards at the en- Command: No need to tell, operative. I've heard the whole thing. BV34: Okay, both of them are down and limp. One of them's got a pair of shots in the chest, though. Command: The only thing that matters right now is that they're both down. If one of them dies, that's not our concern. BV34: Understood. I'm proceeding to the next room. (Rustling paper can be heard from Command's radio.) Command: Alright. If you pop in one or two B2s, please close all entrances and squeeze out of the room just as soon as the smoke expands. Also, please remember that I'm not your daddy. BV34: Mhm. (Silence.) BV34: It's infested with SACKs. The Directorate's not gonna like this. Command: It's okay. I'll deal with it as soon as the mission's done. (Short pause.) BV34: Okay. I'm going in. (BV34 knocks the door open. Six researchers wearing white lab coats and ushankas are playing a card game and smoking cigars in one of the room's two tables. Just as soon as BV34 enters the room, the researchers notice him and stop playing.) (BV34 opens an AM-B2 smoke bomb and tosses it at the group, which quickly throws the table forward, breaking it. While a pair of researchers take cover behind the broken table, the rest pull out Glock 17 guns and try shooting at the operative, who throws the other table forward and takes cover.) (Two researchers quickly approach BV34's knocked table and take cover on the other side while the bomb quickly begins expelling amnestic gas at the end of the room.) BV34: Shit. Command, they're all armed. Or at least most of them. Command: Don't be shy to use what you have. (Silence. A few seconds later, two thumps are heard.) BV34: Right. Two are down. I'll throw another one to fasten it up. Command: Understood. Take cover once you do so. (Short pause.) (BV34 quickly stands up and runs to the door behind him, dodging the quick gunfire as another pair of researchers falls asleep. He opens another bomb, and tosses it across the room before hiding behind the door. The remaining researchers charge towards the door he's locked himself behind, and aggressively try to open it.) (As BV34 keeps pulling the door back, one of the researchers shoots the operative, hitting him in his right calf.) (BV34 screams in pain. After a few seconds of pulling back, the operative kicks the door wide open, pushing the researchers onto the floor. Following this, he stabs one of them in the neck with a syringe before shooting the other in the head. The first researcher tries to stand up, but BV34 pushes the syringe further in before retrieving it.) (The second researcher falls asleep, limp. BV34 stands up and covers his mouth and nose with a piece of cloth lying next to the dead researcher.) BV34: They outdid my day again, huh? (Silence.) Command: Well, you outdid 8 people already. Wait, no. 6 people. BV34: Uh huh. If I were you, I'd begin detaching the whole team. My job's almost done here. Command: They're on their way already. ETA is 2 minutes or so. (Silence. BV34 takes the dead researcher's glock and keeps it in his pocket.) BV34: Right, good. I'm heading for the target. Command: Take care. (BV34 nods. Then, he leaves by the door he previously locked himself behind.) (The hallway connecting to SCP-7445's stairway is heavily secluded and a pair of security cameras point at BV34. At the end of the hallway, a vault door can be seen.) BV34: There's, uh… Surveillance cameras in here. Command: Take your badges off. We don't want to get in a mess with these guys. Their task forces are damn tough. BV34: The badges are under my gear. Command: Okay, hm. (Silence.) Command: I guess you could just w- (Námachov is interrupted as BV34 fires at the security cameras, striking them in the lens. Following that, he begins walking forward.) Command: Right. Guess that works too. BV34: The building is clear, by the way. Just in case the boys are coming in. (BV34 kicks down the door in front of him and proceeds the stairway leading to SCP-7445. The stairway is completely dark, in comparison to the remainder of the building. He turns on his flashlight, and proceeds forward.) BV34: Also tell the boys to bring flares. This place is dark. Command: Noted. (BV34 descends to the bottom of the stairway with caution, which seems to be full of cobwebs and dust. Once he reaches the bottom, he crouches under the spiral staircase, and turns off his flashlight.) Command: There's 3 more of them. You may want to take care of them before they ask for an E11 unit. BV34: Shut up for a second. (Silence.) (A few seconds later, BV34 kicks the floor with his heels. Suddenly, three red lights emanate from the end of yet another hallway, and begin looking around.) BV34: Huh. This one's tough. (BV34 turns his flashlight on before firing at the guard's NVDs4 in the distance. As the goggles crack into glass shards, the guard frantically charges towards BV34, resisting the fired shots. The operative dodges the charging guard, and chokes him by the back.) (Just as soon as BV34 is about to administer a syringe to the guard, the latter defends himself by aggressively kicking the operative's liver with his left elbow. BV34 releases the guard and falls onto the floor, damaged.) Command: Agent? BV34: SILENC- (BV34 is grabbed by the neck, lifted above, then thrown to the floor. A crack is heard as the guard removes his helmet, and smashes it against the operative's head.) (Just as the guard lifts his helmet to smash it onto the agent once again, BV34 raises himself and stabs the syringe onto one of the aggressor's eyes, who recoils and whines in pain. BV34 pulls out his Glock and fires at the guard's head thrice, terminating him. The latter's corpse thumps onto the floor.) BV34: Piece of shit. (The agent slowly stands up. His right leg has been broken.) BV34: Command. ETA? Command: They should already be there. What's your status? BV34: One of my legs is mangled and my head is spilling brains like the damned Kolimá. Command: You're being retrieved soon enough. I'll let the rest do the dirty work, then. (BV34 chuckles.) BV34: Well done. Fuck them SACKs. Fuck them as hard as you can. Command: Will do. Is the Kyótska there? BV34: No idea. I'm bleeding beneath the staircase and I can barely move. (Rustling paper and static can be heard over the radio.) Command: Okay. Sit down and wait for the guys to take you back. Great job, agent. You can turn your cam off now. BV34: Thank you, Námachov. Command: No problem. (As the recovery team is heard descending the stairway, BV34 turns his body camera off, and the feed is cut.) [END LOG] Following the arrival of the recovery team, Agent Bávyera was transported to Provisional Area-358 and his wounds were adequately treated. His right femur and tibia were found to suffer from minor injuries, and a bullet was extracted from his right calf. Additionally, a fracture had opened on his left temple, requiring surgery in order to be treated. Because of this, the agent was officially discharged until he fully recovered from his wounds. All amnesticized personnel were extracted from the base and moved to Provisional Area-358, where each of them were administered a large dose of Class-B amnestics and discharged from their prior positions. The remaining pair of personnel was found to be outside the base, performing tests on the area's permafrost and soil. They were promptly amnesticized by the recovery team before they returned to the base. LoI-NW/107 was successfully seized and a group of Foundation researchers was established in the base in order to contain SCP-7445. ▷CLOSE◁ Addendum 7445-2: INCIDENT LOG — 07.03.19715 ▶OPEN ADDENDUM◀ ▷CLOSE◁ On the morning of March 7th, 1971, 15 days following the containment of SCP-7445, several squads of the Global Occult Coalition were spotted patrolling through the streets of Savukoski, Savukoski Municipality, carrying heavy weaponry and explosive materials. All of the GOC officers were dressed as members of the local authorities and the Abnormal Interactions Command. Fig 3.1 — Savukoski, Finland, circa 1968. At about 0640 hours, GMT+1, all GOC operatives stationed themselves in front of the Savukoski Town Hall, and breached its entrance using battering rams and siege engines. Following this, the operatives stormed the site and all civilians were held at gunpoint under the guise of a national scale drug investigation being performed. After breaching onto the observatory's basement, the operatives found a vault door that led to Provisional Area-358, located beneath the STH. The vault was breached using rams, as it required a password in order to be opened. Following this, several groups of operatives stormed the facility beneath. As the raid continued, a group of GOC operatives proceeded to cut the power supply, and the facility went pitchblack. An evacuation protocol was initiated by the Site's personnel, and a Site-wide breach was announced to the remainder of the Foundation. Local security was heavily affected by the power cutoff, as the lack of power resulted in MTF responses being delayed. Additionally, the MTFs were not prepared to respond to such an incident. Later during the incident, the Foundation personnel began evacuating through an emergency tunnel that would lead them to the Savukoski helipad, where they would be transported to the city of Rovaniemi until Epsilon-11 ("Nine-Tailed Fox") security teams could properly deal with the breach. As the breach went on, however, Foundation helicopters stationed at R3C Halcyon-36 were simultaneously hijacked by another group of assailants that damaged the helicopters' engines. The camp was later declared as lost, as the assailants had destroyed all of the Foundation's properties and captured all personnel. As such, no evacuation routes were considered plausible at the time, requiring personnel to take alternatives and improvise. Fig 3.2 — Palavataivas Observatorio, Savukoski, circa 1970. As the GOC squads began wreaking havoc across the site, destroying large amounts of materials, seizing multiple anomalies and capturing as much personnel as possible, a series of operatives proceeded to leave the site and admonish all individuals wearing white coats and ushankas. This hindered the personnel's attempts to escape through the assigned evacuation routes, as a large amount of civilians joined the cause and helped the squads chasing the persecuted. Notably, the admonition was first transmitted in Russian, but later in Finnish. In total, only 3 of the 47 researchers stationed at Provisional Site-358 managed to escape. The rest were abducted by the intruders, and extracted from Savukoski towards an unknown location. None of the escapees managed to retain any information about the incident, as their objectives were solely focused on escaping the Site safe and sound. Provisional Site-358 was successfully recovered by a platoon of Foundation soldiers on that same day, and as of March 8th, 1971, the Site is officially secure. ▷CLOSE◁ — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — «NOTICE FROM THE RECORDKEEPING AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION» — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — The previous file has been heavily modified by an unidentified intruder. Any contents included in this archive are to be disregarded immediately and all Foundation personnel assigned to Provisional Site-358 and the SCP-7445 containment project are to read the following addendum. A recreation of the SCP-7445 file is currently being carried out by RAISA technicians and, as such, all research and containment projects in relation to the anomaly have been halted. Please stand by while the issue is being fixed. — RAISA Technician Kekko Markkinen Addendum 7445-3: DIRECTORY CHANGELOG — 15.03.19717 ▶OPEN ADDENDUM◀ ▷CLOSE◁ On March 13th, 1971, a pair of squads pertaining to MTF Samekh-358 ("Stuck in the Sauna") and MTF Epsilon-11 ("Nine-Tailed Fox") carrying anomalous weaponry and specialized gear breached an occupied Provisional Site-358 through the facility's evacuation system, attacking the Site at an unexpected time. In a matter of 12 minutes, all access routes for the Site were completely blocked, and the Site's occupiers were terminated without any Foundation casualties. Despite the large amount of occupiers shown in Addendum 7445.2, there were only 7 intruders inside the facility at the time of its recovery. None of them carried any GOC identifiers, or any sort of identifying material for that matter. Following the recovery of Provisional Site-358, it was revealed that all terminals containing remote SCP files were hijacked and locked under a new password. However, the encrypting was noted to be weak and easy to crack, leading to the swift recovery of the terminals by Foundation technicians. Notably, among the 34 files contained within the remote terminals, only 3 were edited by the intruders described in Addendum 7445-2: The SCP-7445 document; A file containing information on Incident-████/1, an event that took place in November 1959 in the town of Kolari, Finland, and involved information regarding an anomaly under the GRU-P Division's jurisdiction; And a dossier containing notorious information about LoI-NW/107, which was heavily guarded by Foundation personnel until a raid occurred on March 5th, 1971, and terminated all of the Foundation's activities within SCP-7445 and the observatory.8 The second and third files were completely devoid of contents following their recovery by the technicians, and all attempts to perform a backup or a recovery of their previous contents were met with failure. SCP-7445's file, however, was heavily edited to: Contain an incomplete and shortened version of the original file;9 Include a video log of LoI-NW/107's siege by a russophone intruder;10 And include a summary of Provisional Site-358's seizure by several squads of intruders.11 Following a complete analysis of the situation by RAISA Technician Kekko Markkinen, a series of inconsistencies and errata were discovered in the newly-edited SCP-7445 file. The following is a list of said incongruences: I. Although Provisional Site-358 was cited by its correct designation in the notice at the beginning of the new SCP-7445 file, the facility is cited as "Provisional Area-358" throughout the remainder of the document. II. SCP-7445 had been under the Foundation's jurisdiction and containment since 1968, and as the anomaly was categorized as a Safe-Class object, a set of established containment procedures was already in place until LoI-NW/107 was sieged. SCP-7445's discovery, as such, is not recent. III. SCP-7445's properties were known to the Foundation, and the anomaly was completely accessible. Most information included in the new file was falsified by the assailants. IV. There is no Communications Department at Provisional Site-358, as the Site's only purpose is to monitor extraterrestrial, astronomical and astrophysical anomalies; and contains anomalous instruments that may relate to said fields. V. The Global Occult Coalition has denied any involvement in the siege described in Addendum 7445.2. Additionally, the GOC has denied having any involvement in Savukoski as a whole. VI. There are no records of Soviet researchers being stationed at Provisional Site-358, with the entirety of the site being comprised by personnel of Finnish nationality and descent. As such, the individual known as Dr. Ilya Námachov is either an intruder pertaining to another organization, or doesn't exist. Since the original SCP-7445 file was deleted along with all of its addenda and contents, a new recontainment operation needs to be carried out in order to recreate the old document. Excavation and extraction of SCP-7445 will begin on March 18th, 1971 in order to transport the anomaly to Provisional Site-358. As a result of the recent raid on Provisional Site-358, the O5 Council has performed an unanimous vote, and officially declared that the facility will be moved to the municipality of Riihimäki along with SCP-7445 in order to avoid further breaches. ▷CLOSE◁ Footnotes 1. "Kyotska-1; April 1959" 2. Uploaded onto DIRECTORY_7445/2 on March 7th, 1991 by Dr. Ilya Námachov. 3. Henceforth referred to as Agent BV34 or, by antonomasia, BV34. 4. Night-vision devices. 5. Uploaded onto DIRECTORY_7445/2 on March 7th, 1971 by Dr. Ilya Námachov. 6. Rapid Response Remote Camps are operated in remote areas to aid evacuating Foundation personnel during breaches and raids. The majority of the Foundation's R3Cs are located across the Arctic Circle, the Himalayas, and the Antarctic Circle. 7. Uploaded onto DIRECTORY_7445/2 on March 15th, 1971 by Tchn. Kekko Markkinen. 8. Addendum 7445.1. 9. Current iteration. 10. Addendum 7445.1. 11. Addendum 7445.2. |
SCP-7447 | keter | Item#: 7447 Level3 Containment Class: keter Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: ekhi Risk Class: danger link to memo Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7447 is to be on suicide watch 24/7. Through observation of the anomaly's behaviour and his reaction to certain tests, it is not possible to kill SCP-7447 or cause permanent damage to the subject. An on-site Rapid Reconstruction team should be ready to be activated in case of a destructive SCP-7447 event for short notice re-containment. The present containment procedures are currently not a feasible or cost-effective way to contain SCP-7447. SCP-7447 is currently contained of his own volition. Due to the unpredictability of the anomaly's circumstances at any given moment, containment should instead focus on persuading SCP-7447 to remain in containment, as this appears to be the most effective method of containment thus far. SCP-7447 shortly before both he and the photographer were hit in the head with solid gold bars. Description: SCP-7447 is a 36-year-old man, of average build, named Raymond McConnell. He displays no anomalous properties himself, rather, surrounding SCP-7447 is what researchers dub a "Probability Inversion and Fluctuation Field" in which events that are normally unlikely to occur become likely to occur within the field. These events are either extremely destructive to the environment around or to SCP-7447 himself, or extremely beneficial to SCP-7447 in various ways. It is noted that a beneficial event will always precede a destructive event with the degree of benefit normally corresponding to the degree of destruction and vice versa. While SCP-7447 may be harmed during these events, the damage is never fatal even in the most extreme events. To this day, he has never failed to make a full recovery from all injuries sustained through non-anomalous means. Addendum.7447.1: Discovery SCP-7447 was brought to the Foundation's attention when locals in ███████ Tennessee reported a man who had won the lottery 3 times in 2 months, after which he was then placed on the potential reality bender watch list. He was placed into Foundation custody1 after he was observed to slip on a banana peel, causing him to fall next to a $100 bill, after which the bill was struck by lightning while leaving SCP-7447 unharmed. Amnestics were deemed unnecessary due to the nature of the event and the lack of harm to nearby civilians. Addendum.7447.2: Interview Log AUDIO LOG DATE: 17/05/2021 INTERVIEWER: Dr. Edward Poh SUBJECT: SCP-7447 »BEGIN LOG« Dr. Poh: Good morning Mr. McConnell. How are you doing this morning? I bet the incident earlier probably gave you a scare, so I got us some coffee to make you feel more comfortable. SCP-7447: Mhmm yeah I guess so. Dr. Poh: Okay…(pauses to write notes) so it seems you're not too bothered by almost getting struck by lightning today. SCP-7447: Yeah, it tends to happen. Dr. Poh: Interesting, interesting. Has this been happening for a while now? Could you pinpoint when exactly all of these extreme circumstances started occurring? SCP-7447: (sigh)… 13th February. Dr. Poh: Hmm that's quite specific, do you happen to know how you developed your current condition? Did anything unusual happen around that ti- SCP-7447: I had sex with Lady Luck. Dr. Poh: Excuse me? SCP-7447: We'd been together for around a year before that point and she was the sweetest lady- no, the sweetest person I've ever met (sniffs). Dr. Poh: Okay… were you aware that- SCP-7447: Do you know what I am? Dr. Poh appears distressed Dr. Poh gestures toward the security guards Dr. Poh: I-I'm not really sure what you are referring to no. SCP-7447: I'm past my thirties, the only thing further behind me than the American dream is my goddamn hairline, and she still saw something in me and at that moment we met in the bar we just started talking and oh my lord I was on cloud nine son. I really thought I would never find love again but holy cow whenever I was with her and… and I don't know how to say it. SCP-7447 puts his hand on his forehead and looks down at the table Dr. Poh: I see. Dr. Poh gestures toward the security guards again Dr. Poh: Did she reveal to you her… true nature at some point? SCP-7447: I guess so but it ain't matter to me. We've been together until that day we made love and she just disappeared. I tried looking for her but now I'm scared to go walk down the street. I could leave my house and an anvil falls and breaks my foot - it's horrible. I've tried to kill myself but it never works! The rope will snap, the shotgun shell happens to be broke or the building I try to jump off is beside a goddamn bouncy castle. Oh my, I'm sorry for all this I really am. It just… (sighs) kinda crushes your soul to second guess everything you do. Several seconds of silence Dr. Poh (clears Throat) I see how that would trouble you. But we digress, do you have any control over the phenomena you experience in any way? SCP-7447: Ummm… not really but maybe a little bit — let me try something. SCP-7447 takes the two cups of coffee and pours them onto the table. The liquid in Dr. Poh's cup melts through the table2 while the liquid in SCP-7447's cup spills out as normal.3 Dr. Poh jumps away from the table in shock Dr. Poh: Jesus! SCP-7447: Yeah this happens often. SCP-7447 is moved to a different room where the interview continues. Dr. Poh: Apologies for the interruption. How about this, the organisation I'm a part of specialises in studying phenomena such as the one you are experiencing I believe we can help each other if you stay with us. SCP-7447: Mmm… I guess that's okay doc… Dr. Poh: Excellent! That concludes our interview and I'll be seeing you very soon. »END LOG« Researcher's Note: The subject seems to be less concerned about his well-being and more so with finding this "Lady Luck" character.4 Whether this is due to his goal outweighing his fear in this circumstance or if he knows he won't be killed for some reason is unknown. His nonchalant attitude to life-threatening, near-miss scenarios suggests the latter. That being said, given SCP-7447's mental state, I recommend psychological counseling for him before he does anything to endanger the site or the personnel. Addendum.7447.3: Test Log TEST/EVENT5 RESULT NOTES SCP-7447 rolls 2 twenty-sided dice The first dice rolled "1" while the other dice rolled "21". The second die was not altered by any means and was later found to have a misprint, where the "12" side was printed backward. Routine Full Body Scan SCP-7447 was shown to have multiple tumors in differing stages of cancer development and metastasis. However, SCP-7447's blood was shown to have multiple rare viruses which have the specific envelope protein such that it only infects the cancer cells. The subject's body is in perfect equilibrium as new cancer growths are appearing as quickly as the viruses destroy them. The tumors also seem to be destroyed before they can cause significant damage to SCP-7447's body. SCP-7447 throws darts at a standard dartboard from a distance of 2.37m, blindfolded The first dart lands on the center of the target. The second dart strikes the concrete wall. Unbeknownst to the researchers or the subject, a gas leak occurred in the testing chamber. The metal dart striking the concrete wall created a spark that caused a small explosion, setting SCP-7447's clothes on fire. The sprinkler system was activated to put out the fire but removed the subject's clothes, which had disintegrated. SCP-7447 only suffered minor 1st-degree burns. SCP-7447 attempts to wash his hands A small Australian Box Jellyfish drops through the faucet and onto SCP-7447's hand, stinging him. While there was no medication or antivenom immediately available to treat the sting, an instance of SCP-████ was held in a neighbouring containment cell. SCP-████'s fecal matter was shown to remove the effects of a Box Jellyfish sting if consumed. The actions done by the researchers and guards during this incident are undergoing Ethics Committee Review. SCP-7447 plays a 20-turn game of Mario Party™ Superstars for the Nintendo Switch with 3 other D-class personnel [REDACTED] An unacceptable loss of life, foundation resources, and a severe underestimation of the subject's capabilities. SCP-7447 abstaining from food for 1 week6 A trolley of ingredients from the cafeteria crashes through the observation window. The ingredients then mix together mid-air and land on the table creating Fettuccine Alfredo by pure chance. SCP-7447 hesitates and appears distressed before taking a bite, exclaiming "Fuck, it's delicious" before punching the wall, crying, and eating through half of the food on the plate before collapsing due to an Anaphylactic shock as the dish contained peanuts. SCP-7447 is currently in a coma due to the allergic reaction.7 While the subject is unconscious, the anomalous effects are still very much active as staff have been slipping on banana peels and finding valuable items while performing routine checkups on SCP-7447. This could be studied further. ADDENDUM.7447.4-7: LAXMI ENGINE PROJECT + Addendum.7447.8: Interview Log II - Addendum.7447.8: Interview Log II AUDIO LOG DATE: 20/09/2021 INTERVIEWER: Dr. Edward Poh SUBJECT: SCP-7447 FOREWORD: Two days after Incident-7447-A, SCP-7447 was taken for questioning. It is noted that SCP-7447 was previously in a comatose state for 12 days. Despite this, the subject has fully recovered after two days of rest and proper nutrition. Dr. Poh was chosen for this interview as he had conducted the initial recovery interview and served as the subject's therapist for an extended period of time. »BEGIN LOG« Dr. Poh: Hello Raymond. How are we feeling? SCP-7447: Hey doc, I'm alright. At least I think so. Dr. Poh: You know it is quite miraculous that you recovered from that coma right? SCP-7447: I guess it was pretty lucky. (short chuckle) Dr. Poh: (short chuckle) It's great to see you joking more. It's a sign of your personal progress. SCP-7447: I guess it is. You know the talks we've been having have been real nice. All them tests have been distracting me and letting me think about what's been happening. Y'know doc I had a weird dream a while ago. Dr. Poh: Really? Do share your experience. I think it gives good feedback into what you're thinking.8 SCP-7447: Well it's kinda strange. Okay, well I saw her and she was there but it wasn't really her or it was? I really got no clue. At least I got to see her again that was good. I think I start getting killed but then I see her again and she tells me to go? Dr. Poh: You sound a bit hazy on the details but that's normal for dreams. SCP-7447: I recall seeing her a little sad but I felt a real sad too. Dr. Poh: I'm sorry to hear that Raymond. SCP-7447: Hey Doc. Short silence SCP-7447: I still miss her. Dr. Poh: That's completely normal. Before my role in the Foundation, I had a short stint in a regular therapy clinic. I met a lot of post-divorce patients during my time there. Messy relationships tend to leave a lot of baggage for a lot of people. SCP-7447: You think it wasn't meant to be? Dr. Poh: W-well I didn't say that. In fact from your stories, it seems the relationship was going pretty well. SCP-7447: Huh. Yeah, I suppose so. You know I've been thinking about why she left and I'm not sure how I can get an answer and I don't really know what I'm doing here. Dr. Poh: I suppose so too. Anyways, I should get onto the questions and not take up too much of your day. SCP-7447: Do you think she's still out there doc? Dr. Poh: Hmm? Oh most likely. If she truly is Lady Luck then those kinds of deities live very long and considering your unique anomalies I suspect she's a deity of some kind. SCP-7447: So she's really out there? Dr. Poh: Probably. Anyways I have some questions for- SCP-7447: Doc. Dr. Poh: Yes Raymond? SCP-7447: Is it me? The reason she left… Do you think it's me? Dr. Poh: Of course not! From our conversations, you seem like a pleasant person to be around, and from the way you talk about POI- um how you talk about her tells me that you really do love her. There is really no way of knowing why, save for asking her yourself. SCP-7447: (muttering) Ask her myself…? Dr. Poh: Can I share for a while, Raymond? SCP-7447: (Looks up) Hm, oh yeah, go ahead. Dr. Poh: Before Uni I really liked thinking about how people think and helping people out with their issues and making them feel better just really appealed to me. But in my second semester (scoffs) I was really in a terrible mindset and I almost quit part way. After that, I thought about the passion I had before I got into all of the nitty-gritty of studying and remembered what I loved to do, and just pushed forward. SCP-7447: Huh. That's an interesting story doc. Dr. Poh: The point I'm trying to make is that we here in the Foundation can help you, if we just keep on the track we laid out. Dr. Poh: Well, once again I digress. I have a few more questions to ask yo- SCP-7447 stands up and begins shaking Dr. Poh's hands SCP-7447: Thank you so much doc. I mean it. Dr. Poh: I-uh no worries? May I ask what this is about? SCP-7447: I'm going to go find her. Dr. Poh: Pardon? SCP-7447: The only way I'm gonna know for sure is if I go find her and ask! Dr. Poh: Right. Okay. Um. Okay, Raymond, I need you to calm down and think about this. SCP-7447: Oh don't worry I had a lot of time to think during all the tests and talks doc. It's like you said, I gotta remember what I love and push forward! Dr. Poh: No that's not what I mean, or the point of the story (nervous chuckle), how do you even know how to get out of the site- Multiple small meteorites suddenly collide with the site at that moment, causing multiple containment breaches and the destruction of the wall of the interrogation room SCP-7447: I guess that's my cue to leave doc. Might see you again, who knows? Here I come, Lucy! SCP-7447 turns to leave through the destroyed wall Dr. Poh: Raymond wait! Dr. Poh slips on a banana peel SCP-7447 walks out of the site. As security personnel were occupied handling the other containment breaches, he was able to exit the site without issue SCP-7447 looks at the sunset SCP-7447: (takes a deep breath) Hot damn. Now wasn't this a random day? »END LOG« - Addendum.7447.8: Interview Log II Footnotes 1. See addendum.7447.2 2. Security footage showed Assistant Gabris accessing SCP-294 where he entered "Acid that looks and smells like coffee". Later investigation found that he was an undercover member of The Chaos Insurgency. 3. This was found to be high-quality cold brew coffee taken from Dr. Adams' Flask. I should not need to remind my fellow researchers that it is rude to take homemade food from another researcher without asking. -Dr. Adams 4. Hereby referred to as POI-777 5. While some results listed were a result of intentional tests, others are events that occurred outside of testing which was noted down to show examples of SCP-7447's anomalous properties 6. This was a presumed suicide attempt where SCP-7447 had been disposing of his food in the toilet without the guards knowing 7. I sent a sample of the dish to Caretaker Tim Hyne and we both agreed it tasted amazing. Look forward to lunch at the site cafeteria on Thursday 8. Dr. Poh has already been briefed on incident 7447-A. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7447" by J T K C, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7447. 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: Luxmi_engine.jpg Name: Space Simulation Chamber Prepared for Testing Webb Telescope Author: NASA Goddard Space Flight Center License: CC-BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: SCP-7447New.jpg Name: Man on the Bench Author: Jaroslav A. Polák License: CC0 1.0 Source Link: Flickr |
SCP-7448 | esoteric-class | Rab333 it's cold out here. Also, more stuff by me! Item#: 7448 Level4 Containment Class: efla Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: caution link to memo Cluster of SCP-7448 cells. Special Containment Procedures: Twelve vials containing dormant SCP-7448 mutagenic cell compounds are flash frozen and stored in Site-23, with periodic checks to monitor, and if needed, restore cohesion to the aforementioned compounds. Documentation on the full process regarding the creation of the compound is available in extant documentation SCP-7448-3G8fD11. Description: SCP-7448 is a parabiological compound created in a joint effort led by the Department of Epidemiology and Microbiology in an attempt at facilitating near-unlimited regenerative capabilities in an affected individual. SCP-7448 was created by injecting a batch of pluripotent stem cells with CNSS2 paradrugs, Plerixaflor, and micro Hume RABs3 in order to induce near instantaneous cellular regeneration. Due to an as of then unknown conflict between the mixture of substances and the way RABs affect the human body, all of the test trial subjects have either expired or became nigh-indistinguishable from an expired state. Because of this, test trials for SCP-7448 have been stopped indefinitely, with the remaining vials being stored for archival purposes. Documentation regarding the trials centered around SCP-7448 can be found below. Addendum 7448.1 ARCHIVED TRIALS Test #1 Subject: D-39481 Procedure: Subject was administered a small (20ml) dose of SCP-7448, sedatives, and had a small incision made on their left forearm. Results: Wound healed during the course of a few seconds, with minimal side effects occurring. Samples of new skin and fleshy tissue revealed genetic makeup to be slightly different compared to the original cellular makeup of D-39481, possessing similarities to Pan troglodytes4 genes. Additional Notes: N/A Test #2 Subject: D-39481 Procedure: Subject was sedated, and had their left index finger amputated. Results: Finger grew back after a few seconds in a decayed state, displaying acute signs of Brachydactyly. Structural analysis of new finger revealed small similarities in structure to other primates closely related to the Homo Sapiens species. Additional Notes: N/A Test #3 Subject: D-39481 Procedure: Subject was sedated, then had their left arm amputated. Results: The arm of D-39481 failed to regenerate properly, forming a vestigial fleshy stump in its place. Subject, despite heavy sedative dosage, complained about severe pain even after the procedure. Additional Notes: Bigger dosage of SCP-7448 should be administered following this test. Test #4 Subject: D-20021 Procedure: Subject was administered full-body anesthesia, and had the right kidney amputated. Upon waking up, subject was administered a 75ml dose of SCP-7448. Results: Shortly after administration, D-20021 experienced partial reformation of the kidney. Subject's lower back, right lumbar region and right hypochondriac region were subsequently enveloped by a fleshy tumor. Analysis of tumor indicate presence of early, unknown proto-bacteriums and DNA of Homo neanderthalensis which seem to have undergone basic carcinisation. D-20021's motor functions were severely impaired due to this incident, requiring advanced care. Additional Notes: A finer dosage amount and small rehash of the formula might be needed. Test #5 Subject: D-55435 Procedure: Subject was administered full-body anesthesia, and had a partial heart removal procedure. 60ml of SCP-7448 was injected into D-55435 shortly afterwards. Results: Subject's heart began regrowing, along with skeletal muscle tissue growing in mass without signs of stopping. D-55435's muscle structure was determined to have similar characteristics to an array of different Hominidae5 species. Despite attempts to negate this, D-55435's body had grown to a final size of 19m2. Additional Notes: Brain testing still shows this guy is alive somewhere, in there, we think. At least. We should probably terminate the guy somehow, especially with his… size. It's cruel to leave him like this. Test #6 Subject: D-55435 Procedure: Subject was incinerated. An ECMD6 was linked to D-55435's brain tissue beforehand. Results: Due to the SCP-7448 compound still being active within the subject's bloodstream, incineration took 37 hours. Upon completion, subject revived, in a heavily emaciated and damaged state. Multiple features of D-55435 were incompatible with modern human biology, including a fibrous, beaked face, multiple vestigial fingers on both arms, and a musculature similar to late Homo Sapiens descendants. Subject could not walk, talk or move7, and possessed no apparent conscious ability. Additional Notes: N/A ECMD data available. Parse now? Processing... 2% … 19% … … 33% it's cold in here … 46% 49% Cold is subjective. Wouldn't you say? … … … It's dark. Not subjective. Subjective. was that the word maybe … … 58% what was my own Name? no Worries72.9% … … … i guess it's not needed … here.where here. 83% … … … … it's been so long. day 92.44820% … … 97% I Miss Missing … 99.32% the gray gray rock words dictionary spinning family a car ce ll s i don't remember what blue looks like 100% Since activation, subject has been conscious for 3.8 Billion Years. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7448" by Rab333, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7448. 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: particle Name: File:SARS-CoV-2 scanning electron microscope image.jpg Author: National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID) License: Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:SARS-CoV-2_scanning_electron_microscope_image.jpg Footnotes 1. Efla anomalies are made and/or utilized by the Foundation. 2. Central Nervous System Stimulants. 3. Reality Accelerating Booster. 4. Common chimpanzee. 5. Great ape. 6. Elan Consciousness Monitoring Device. 7. Besides muscle twitches. |
SCP-7449 | keter | Item #: SCP-7449 Special Containment Procedures: Due to SCP-7449's unique properties, containment is to be limited towards its occurrence and information relating to its existence. Foundation personnel unaffected by SCP-7449 are to cooperate with SCP-7449-B and are to facilitate the discovery or transportation of SCP-7449-A to SCP-7449-B, and are to not interfere until SCP-7449-A's termination. SCP-7449-B instances are to be administered Amnestics-74491 after SCP-7449 has ceased occurring. Foundation operatives assigned to SCP-7449 containment are to be rotated on a bi-annual basis. Personnel requesting re-assignment to other projects are to be accommodated, and given priority from regional Directors. Personnel with a history of sympathetic tendencies towards those under Foundation care are to be barred from assignment to SCP-7449. Foundation personnel are encouraged to avoid interacting with SCP-7449-B until SCP-7449-A's termination. This includes the viewing of media involving SCP-7449-B. To facilitate this, personnel are not allowed access to electronic or physical media produced by SCP-74490-B. Personnel that violate this will be reassigned to a different project, and assigned a specially trained Foundation psychologist until otherwise deemed capable of continuing work on SCP-7449's containment. Description: SCP-7449 is an anomalous phenomena affecting all sapient life within a specific geographic location corresponding to a legal administrative, governmental or legal boundary, with the exception of one individual, hereafter referred to as SCP-7449-A. SCP-7449's area of affect can range from local counties to the nation-state. When occurring, SCP-7449 will create an irrepressible compulsion, desire, need, or urge to eliminate SCP-7449-A among affected individuals (SCP-7449-B). Aside from this compulsion, instances are indistinguishable, physically and mentally, from their unaltered state. Often this compulsion will drive SCP-7449-B instances to put itself and others in physical danger. SCP-7449's mechanics are seemingly random and can occur at any time, although certain conditions have been considered more favorable to its appearance than others. SCP-7449-A selection is likewise random, lacking any pattern in background. SCP-7449-B will, aside from their desire to terminate SCP-7449-B, generally not act, unless the individual instances believes that by acting it will capture or terminate SCP-7449-A. If, after an amount of time (ranging from three months to six months), SCP-7449-A still has not been terminated, SCP-7449-B instances will cease attempting to physically harm SCP-7449-A immediately, and, instead, begin attempting to attract SCP-7449-A to the affected area for capture and termination. This manipulation ranges from simple threats to long term conspiracies to contrive SCP-7449-A's termination, even if said termination is contradictory to the SCP-7449-B's self interest. If SCP-7449-A is captured after this period, SCP-7449-B instances will not immediately terminate SCP-7449-A, but, rather, do so only on a specific date. This date corresponds to a locally celebrated holiday in the geographic area, and will usually incorporate SCP-7449-A as a central part of the cultural event. SCP-7449 will continue until SCP-7449-A is terminated by SCP-7449-B. If SCP-7449-A dies of other causes unrelated to SCP-7449-B, the next living biological relative becomes an instance of SCP-7449-A. There has been no recorded instance of SCP-7449 ceasing without SCP-7449-A's termination. Upon SCP-7449-A's termination, SCP-7449-B instances will fail to recollect the preceding events, or, if enough time has past to make this difficult, will otherwise fail to see the anomalous nature in them. Discovery SCP-7449 was discovered on December 31st, 1999, when it affected the city of New York. At 8:54 AM, local news was overridden by Mayor ██████ ███████ and his police force to give the following declaration: My fellow New Yorkers, Good evening. I hope that you are having as wonderful a holiday as the rest of us are, although, unfortunately, I have come to bring bad news - news too important to delay after the holiday, even one celebrating the beginning of the new century. There exists a threat to us today. Its not mystical or unseen. Its not even foreign. Its here, right at our shores. It may be right next to you, right now, sitting, looking, watching. You - I - we - know that fear better than anyone else. His name is Harry Nelson. He is a 19 year old man living at [REDACTED], second floor. He works at the gas station at [REDACTED] street, a little bit away from the public library, and he always keeps a nine millimeter handgun in his glove box. As we speak, the brave men and women of the New York City Police Department will be raiding his home, so that he can be killed, and so that we may all sleep a little more soundly at night. If you are seeing this, it is because we failed - and he has escaped. I speak to you, citizens, in a time of need: Harry Nelson is a thief, a criminal, a terrorist - a danger to the people. His death is the only way for this city to remain safe, to remain clean. I, as representative and sovereign of the people of New York, shall be suspending all statues as relates to assault and murder in relation to Harry Nelson's capture and death. All citizens are to cooperate with the New York City Police Department, renamed the New York City's Militia in light of the current crisis, and for the people to organize for the apprehension of this dangerous criminal. God have mercy on this city, and those who do it harm. At this, the Foundation, in collaboration with federal, state and international authorities2 to limit SCP-7449's affects. Despite this all activity ceased as the citizens of New York City attempted to locate and terminate 'Harry Nelson', including all economic, infrastructure, entertainment and political functions. Although threats of force were used, SCP-7449-B instances refused to cooperate. This only intensified as time continued, as all electrical, water, and heating infrastructure was abandoned in order to search the city for SCP-7449-A. Although authorities were able to turn them back on during the incident, it is believed around thirty individuals died from the lack of heat throughout the city. It was only on January 3rd, after four days of searching and a media blackout that SCP-7449-A was discovered returning from a vacation to Europe, and was entering the city when he was apprehended by the NYPD. He was subsequently executed on live television as a warning to other 'terrorists'. It was only then that the New York City New Years parade was allowed to occur. SCP-7449 Event Log 2/19/2002 — [REDACTED], Kentucky, United States of America: A small town of five hundred people, SCP-7449-A was assaulted outside of town and hanged on a sign post. SCP-7449-B instances responsible were unable to understand why Foundation operatives took SCP-7449-A down for burial. 8/1/2004 — [REDACTED], Schleswig-Holstein, Germany: A coastal town of 1000, SCP-7449-A was an elderly man who had been pushed down and could not get up. Several American troops were stationed near the elderly man, and were ordered by the Mayor and local commander to shoot anyone who attempted to help SCP-7449-A. When Foundation operatives were deployed to retrieve SCP-7449-A, they were repelled in the face of heavy resistance, ending in the deaths of three American soldiers and ten Foundation officers. SCP-7449-A died from being run over by a bulldozer the day after this battle, and only then was the Foundation able to intervene. 4/22/2005 — [REDACTED], Sakha, Russian Federation: A village of 90 people, primarily elderly. SCP-7449-A was a son of an SCP-7449-B instance, who had been invited by the later to his home after he had left home many years earlier. SCP-7449-A, believing it to be a form of reconciliation, was terminated in its parents home before its body was made part of the village spring festival. 12/19/2006 — Alabama, United States of America: Secretary of State █████ █████ of Alabama requested from the Governor, and Government, of Tennessee, the extradition of SCP-7449-A, a former Alabama citizens who had not lived in the State since 1939. If the State would not do so, the Secretary of State claimed that there would be 'devastation the valley has not seen since Sherman.' Despite threats from the federal government, the Legislature of Alabama was appropriating money for the State National Guard for an invasion until the Foundation applied pressure to Governor ███████ of Tennessee to extradite SCP-7449-A. SCP-7449-A was boiled in an steel bull near Birmingham, Alabama, in honor of the States' historically large deposits of iron. 7/4/2009 — Site-22, [REDACTED], [REDACTED]: During an inspection of Site-22, O5-11 was taken hostage by MTF-Alpha-1 ("Red Right Hand"), in collaboration with Site-22 staff. MTF-Alpha-1 delivered a message to the O5 Council, describing O5-11's capture and situation, and demanding that, unless SCP-7449-A was handed over, O5-11 would be executed. SCP-7449-A was Dr. Allen Rizzo, a former researcher at Site-22. However, when handed over, O5-11, instead of being given over, stabbed SCP-7449-A forty-seven times, stopping at several points to allow MTF-Alpha-1's medical staff to resuscitated SCP-7449-A. When SCP-7449-A was terminated, O5-11 commanded MTF-Alpha-1 and Site-22 as a whole to "Stand down - we got our man!" O5-11, Alpha-1 and Site-22 as a whole are currently suspended following further investigation. Footnotes 1. A powerful Amnestic produced to target memories involving SCP-7449-A. Due to the nature of SCP-7449 the application of general amnestics is not viable for containment purposes, and thus requires specialized variants unique to the circumstances that can target specific memories. See 'On Establishing a Basis for Targeted Memory Erasure' by Dr. Pran Anand for more information 2. The United Nations Secretariat Building is located in New York City, NY, USA. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7449" by Zer0Ne0phyte, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7449. 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-7450 | esoteric-class | SCP-7450 - L is for Lamentations All her people groan as they search for bread; they barter their treasures for food to keep themselves alive. "Look, LORD, and consider, for I am despised." Book of Lamentations, Chapter 1, Verse 11, NIV Image Credits https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Field_genealogy;_being_the_record_of_all_the_Field_family_in_America,_whose_ancestors_were_in_this_country_prior_to_1700._Emigrant_ancestors_located_in_Massachusetts,_Rhode_Island,_New_York,_New_(14784660352).jpg https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Franklin_Island,_Antarctica_01.jpg https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/7/76/Percubaan_pertama_night_landscape_%285784800311%29.jpg/1024px-Percubaan_pertama_night_landscape_%285784800311%29.jpg All image edits were made by me, djkaktus. ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} Item#: 7450 Level1 Containment Class: esoteric Secondary Class: megiddo Disruption Class: amida Risk Class: critical link to memo SCP-7450. Cognitohazardous elements have been removed, altered or obscured. Assigned Site: N/A Site Director: N/A Research Head: N/A Assigned Task Force: N/A Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7450 is uncontained. The SCP Foundation, in its current iteration, no longer possesses the resources or personnel required to contain SCP-7450. It is unlikely that any third-party paranatural classification and containment organizations would, if they indeed still exist, be capable of containing SCP-7450. Due to the critical threat that SCP-7450 poses to sentient lifeforms, all Foundation personnel are subject to the requirements of the MAGOG Protocol. The full requirements can be found on the central Foundation data server - the primary tenets are as follows: Under no circumstances are any personnel permitted to leave the confines of their local Foundation site during a transience of SCP-7450. Under no circumstances are any personnel permitted to travel to an area that will be in the path of a SCP-7450 transience within 72 hours. Under no circumstances are any personnel permitted to look at or listen to SCP-7450. By order of the Foundation Overwatch Administrator, any personnel found to have purposefully or unintentionally violated one of these requirements is subject to summary execution, by any other member of the SCP Foundation. Adherence to these requirements is paramount to the successful continuance of the human species. As a result of Foundation’s inability to contain SCP-7450, and the resultant circumstances that arose following its ascension, the SCP Foundation Classification Committee has ruled 3-0 to update SCP-7450’s containment designation from the Apollyon-Class to the Megiddo-Class, to distinguish between entities or anomalies that will inevitably result in the end of the world, and those that already have. Description: SCP-7450 is the group designation for four massive humanoid eigenweapons that ascended to godhood on the 13th of December, 2028. The ascension of SCP-7450 was predicated by the arrival of the celestial 981-AJAX entity on October 14th, 2025. The end product of the interaction between 981-AJAX and SCP-7450 was the utter annihilation of 981-AJAX and, immediately following that, the rapid escalation of an XK-Class “End of the World” event caused by the cognitohazardous and catastrophic ontokinetic effects of SCP-7450’s presence on Earth. SCP-7450 entities range between 18.9km and 23.5km in height. They are humanoid in appearance, with six large avian wings emerging from their upper and lower back. SCP-7450 entities have a single arm and hand on their right side, in which they carry a short1 curved sickle. The entities have humanoid legs which terminate at the ankles and are seemingly incapable of locomotion - instead moving by way of levitation, though the legs do move as if ambulating. Surviving descriptions of SCP-7450 indicate other possible animal characteristics, such as claws, feathers on the arm and legs, serpentine tails, etc. They are named, in descending order of size - Pallas, Judith, Rachel, and Argine. Accurate depictions of their facial features are infeasible to gather - it is currently impossible to obscure images of the entities’ faces to a sufficient degree to allow for visual assessment while also negating their cognitohazardous properties. Similarly, audio recordings of SCP-7450’s vocalizations cannot be reviewed by sentient observers - both human and sentient AI listeners are subject to the cognitohazards present in SCP-7450’s voice. Since the moment of their ascension, each of the four instances of SCP-7450 have been in constant circumnavigatory transience of the planet. Each of the four moves at slightly different speeds - Rachel is the fastest, and transits the globe once every four hundred and sixteen days, whereas the slowest, Pallas, completes the passage in four hundred and sixty-eight days. Sentient creatures exposed to the visage or voice of any instance of SCP-7450 will immediately become compelled to follow it in its transit of the planet. Once an individual has been affected they are unrecoverable - subjects who fall under the effect of SCP-7450’s compulsion will make every possible effort to avoid anything that would impede their ability to join in the mass following of SCP-7450 and cannot be deterred short of the total destruction of their body. Affected persons undergo changes over time to their physiology - they cease to age, their bodies become more resistant to damage and decay, and their features slowly begin to resemble the SCP-7450 instance they follow. They will walk behind their instance of SCP-7450 until their feet wear down to their ankles, at which point they will begin levitating alongside other similar subjects. Lastly, these subjects mimic the vocalizations of SCP-7450, and while exposure to these vocalizations by non-affected persons does not have the same immediate compulsory effect as SCP-7450, they will nonetheless experience the same end condition after a short period of time. Addendum 7450.1: Foundation Overseer’s Address 11.2.2025 Access File Close File THIS IS A PUBLIC NOTICE FROM THE OFFICE OF THE SCP FOUNDATION OVERSEER COUNCIL REGARDING THE CELESTIAL ENTITY APPEARING OVER THE SOUTH SKY ON OCTOBER 14TH, 2025 DATED: November 2nd, 2025 Good evening. My name is Armond Katchatrian, an Overseer of the SCP Foundation. We are an organization that seeks to categorize and contain anomalous entities and phenomena in our world. We have operated in secrecy for the last two-hundred years maintaining our world’s status quo. As of the night of the 14th, we are no longer able to maintain that veil. The entity that appeared over the southern sky - an entity we have identified as 981-AJAX, is a hostile extraplanar entity currently intersecting with our reality. The disaster ongoing in Johannesburg is evident of this entity’s catastrophic potential. There have been many questions about the tragic footage that has made the global news these last few weeks, and about the person hanging in the sky now over that city. We cannot speak with full certainty of their fate, but they are in our hearts. At this time, we are urging calm and caution. We understand you are afraid. Rest assured, we are currently cooperating with world governments and other organizations like our own to determine the best path forward. We have technology that is not available to the rest of mankind and capabilities beyond what is commonly accepted as feasible. We will, as we always have, stand as the stalwart shield between our world and the unknown. Thank you. Armond Katchatrian O5-1 Addendum 7450.2: Foundation Overseer’s Address 12.11.2028 Access File Close File THIS IS A PUBLIC NOTICE FROM THE OFFICE OF THE SCP FOUNDATION OVERSEER COUNCIL REGARDING AJAX DATED: December 11th, 2028 Over these past three years, myself and my predecessors have made every attempt to be as transparent as possible with you about our efforts to defend mankind against the ongoing threat of AJAX. Today I will do the same. This will be our final communication. We have expended every possibility and all of our resources. We have broken up our containment cells and released every possible horror onto the world in the hopes of balancing the threat of AJAX. We have failed. AJAX will soon open its final eye, and we will not be able to delay it. In truth, we never have. Take this time to be with your families. We have preparations in place that will, god willing, ensure the hopeful survival of our species. These preparations are buried deep within the Earth, and may survive the eyes of AJAX. Please pray for their survival, these last four mothers of humanity. Someday they and their children might awaken and walk again on an earth free from this nightmare. I wish you all peace. Goodnight. Rhys Olsons O5-1 Image taken from closed circuit surveillance footage on December 13th, 2028. Addendum 7450.3: Personal Journal Entries 5.14.2032 Close File Personal Journal Date: 5.14.2032 Got the news today I've been expecting for a while. Judith ended up too far east and passed over Site-43. I finally got in to the site AI and got the same stream of nonsense as the others. It's not cognitohazardous itself, thankfully. A good canary to see if a place is worth visiting. Didn't sleep well again. I've got Henderson locked up in the cell a floor below me but sometimes he just starts howling. I need to go change out the gag I had on him, I suspect he's chewed through it. Another letter in today from Sophia. Blessings are few and far between, but they're still blessings. Says she's down to just twenty-three, but they're still working. Twenty-three! I haven't had twenty-three in two years. She's worried about us (I didn't tell her about Henderson), but I told her it's still too dangerous to come over here. Rachel is crossing in three weeks and we might catch Judith if she straightens back out. There are still some stragglers up there too, ones who haven't caught up with the floaters. Maybe in a few months - we'll see. It's agonizing, though. It's been a long few months. I thought at first having Henderson's voice would be enough to keep me sane, but since I snipped him he doesn't sound much like a person anyway, and even then he's not saying anything that would be a comfort. Just shrieking and gnashing his teeth. Seeing another person would be nice. 6.3.2032 Close File Personal Journal Date: 6.3.2032 We're holed up tight this week - Rachel is passing right now. The last week Henderson has been frothing at the mouth, probably because she's the one who turned him. I scoped him out week before last just to make sure he was still good and tied up in there. Cell was a mess. He got out of his straps at some point and started scratching at the walls. He made decent progress and he turned his hands into stumps. Maybe he thinks he'll be floating around on his wrists. Sound cancellation is still holding up. When we lost Site-08 they were about sixteen meters down lower than us and Pallas still got all of them. That was a close call. I was on the phone with Harold Bates and he just starts crying. I threw it across the room and stayed out of there for a week. When I came back the phone was still on, total silence on the other end. But! All this time buried down here has given me time to work. I found another one of the training satellites we used to use. It won't give us much coverage, it's only got two working cameras, but we might be able to get eyes on Argine. Haven't seen her since she passed Tokyo last year and went into the ocean. Computer keeps reminding me to check my update requests. Last time there were eight sites reporting back. I know there are probably more than that, but even thinking about opening that file makes me feel clammy. Need to think about more productive things. I'll check the update requests tomorrow. 6.4.2032 Close File Personal Journal Date: 6.4.2032 Only three sites updating. I shouldn't have checked. Rachel is taking her fucking time. 7.29.2032 Close File Personal Journal Date: 7.29.2032 I let Henderson out earlier. I don't think there's anything left to learn from him and he was a nice enough guy. He's got a lot of walking to do until he catches up with one of them, but he seemed happier. Still writhing and screaming, but in a more pleasant way. First time I've been outside in a while. It was really nice out, sun was shining and its starting to warm back up again. The sky was mostly clear. If I had to guess most of whatever was left of AJAX has his atmosphere by now. Might be some left up there, but I didn't see any. After I came back inside I just sat around a little. I've been trying to keep busy, but I don't feel like it today. Haven't heard from Sophia in a while. Thank god for Alto, still sending me his daily updates. A picture of his face, once a day, every day. Not exciting, but it's something. 9.2.2032 Close File Personal Journal Date: 9.2.2032 Still nothing from Sophia. 12.14.2032 Close File Personal Journal Date: 12.14.2032 Four year anniversary. Nobody responding to update requests anymore. We must be getting near the close. I went back and read the rest of this file - hilariously abridged. We had such high hopes in the beginning, and then nothing. Planning committees and emails of encouragement. We made it out better than most, that first day they started crying out we couldn't hear it from so deep underground. Sixty-four sites! Forty-seven thousand personnel. Why did it take us so long to learn how to stay alive? We're paying a price for AJAX. AJAX! What's the point of the secrecy now? What's the point of the updates and the status reports? Who is left to read this? I'll tell you what happened. If you're reading this, then you're whoever is left than me. There aren't many of us now, if any at all. Maybe it'll be Alto. In 1996 we buried four girls at four different DEEPWELL sites. A preparation for the end of the world. They'd had a close call with 239 and wanted to make sure they had a contingency plan. This is before we found 2000, so it became moot after that point. The project was more or less scrapped, but they didn't dig those girls up. I wonder sometimes if there was ever a meeting about it, or if they just forgot they were there. Anyway, they were buried under a mountain of sorcery and technology and given wombs that would operate for a thousand years. For three decades they were down there until AJAX showed up and turned 2000 into a smoking wreck. Suddenly we need another option, and look at that? Kain finds those four girls and starts the machines up again and we have our parachute again. But then Armond tells the entire world about them as he's letting everyone know that we're going to die. All our best laid plans, all our world religions, suddenly only one thing mattered. Mankind had seen us calling real nightmares up from the bowels of the Earth, powers they had never dreamed of, and suddenly we're telling them it's all over. Except - wait - there are these four girls who can save us! What did we think was going to happen? Had we really not learned about what belief does? So they woke up, and that was it. Eight billion humans crying out for a god to save them. Eight billion humans screaming, crying, begging. Our city walls fallen and our idols smashed against the ground. AJAX - I don't even remember what AJAX looked like, to be honest - preparing to open his last eye, and people were afraid. We lamented our shared fate, and our gods woke up. But they weren't built to be divine, they didn't know what was going to happen to them. The Foundation found them on a street corner somewhere, cleaned them up, put ten billion dollars of tech into them and then sent them to bed. When they woke up they were gods. They were thirteen years old. Eight hours! We had eight hours, Alto. Eight hours to plan, before Pallas cracked open her mouth and began screaming. Were they scared too? Were they afraid of what they'd become? Their first action was a reaction, I'm sure of it - AJAX came at them and they scattered it across the atmosphere. Their next action was fear - gods need worship, and worshippers. It didn't take long. They blew through our cognitohazard defenses in seconds, like rice paper before a blow torch. And now it's been four years. Half of us we lost to the sisters. Another third to exhaustion. Tired, scared, defeated - they would put down their work, walk out the door, and then wait for a sister to come calling. I don't know what the point of this was. I don't know what we accomplished here. Did we succeed in our mission? Did we plan enough? Do we still have work to do? Did we ensure the survival of our species? I don't know. I'm tired too. We wept when skies opened up and AJAX opened its first eye, and all the eyes afterwards. We lamented our grim misfortune and prayed for an end to our suffering. Why haven't I gotten the message yet? Now there's nobody left to lament but me. 9.1.2035 Close File Personal Journal Date: 9.1.2035 I hope it was easy for you, Sophia. I hope you've found something like a new life out there. I won't be far behind. 4.19.2036 Close File Personal Journal Date: 4.19.2036 My last journal entry. Out of food and the water doesn't work anymore. Pallas is getting close, but I can't wait any longer. I'll die down here if I don't leave. I can make it to Site-89, and then to Site-104. They'll have resources I can use - and maybe research I overlooked. If Pallas catches me, then that's the ballgame. I'm not willing to give up yet, but I can't wager the survival of our species against goggles that might slip or earplugs that don't work the way they should. I thought burning out my eardrums would be the hard part, but with the benefit of hindsight I should have foreseen how bad it would be to take my own eyes out. Hindsight! A dark joke. I never truly appreciated the dark until now. I've spent too much time on this dumb shit to give up now. I don't care if it takes a life living in darkness, I'll figure this out. And if you ever get around to reading this, Alto, you can kindly go fuck yourself. Two years you had my heart leaping at the sight of a cardboard cutout. Motherfucker. No time to cry. Wish me luck. Troy Footnotes 1. Relative to their overall size. K is for "Keystone" SCP ANTHOLOGY Hub M is for "Moonlight" ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7450" by djkaktus, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7450. 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: angel.png Author: djkaktus License: CC-BY-SA 4.0 Source Link: https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-7450/angel.png Additional Notes: Edited and drawn on by djkaktus Derivative of: Name: Franklin Island, Antarctica 01.jpg Author: Francisco Ardini License: CC-BY-SA 4.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Franklin_Island,_Antarctica_01.jpg Filename: rise.png Author: djkaktus License: CC-BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-7450/rise.png Additional Notes: Edited by djkaktus. Arm from family member of djkaktus Derivative of: Name: Percubaan pertama night landscape (5784800311).jpg Author: Firdaus Latif License: CC-BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Percubaan_pertama_night_landscape_(5784800311).jpg Name: megiddo.jpg Author: djkaktus License: CC-BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/scp-7450/megiddo.png Name: Field genealogy; being the record of all the Field family in America, whose ancestors were in this country prior to 1700. Emigrant ancestors located in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New York, New (14784660352).jpg Author: Internet Archive Book Images License: Public domain Source Link: https://www.flickr.com/photos/internetarchivebookimages/14784660352/ |
SCP-7451 | euclid | Item#: 7451 Level0 Containment Class: euclid Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: amida Risk Class: caution link to memo FoldUnfold Table of Contents Special Containment Procedures Description SCP-7451-P Discovery and History of SCP-7451 Construction of Site 44 Site 44 Construction Riots Canadian Site 44 Effects of SCP-7451 on Site-44 See also: Special Containment Procedures The history written within this document is to be taught to personnel residing within SCP-7451, SCP-7451-P instances, and children born within Site 44. Thus, this file serves as a user-friendly and LEVEL 0 version of the internal SCiPNET file that Foundation officially uses; depending on clearance level, the reader may have seen different versions of the file. Information from versions of the file with higher clearances can be transferred to lower clearances with the approval of RAISA can never be transferred to lower clearances. If you are viewing this and either have a higher clearance or are a Foundation employee, please consult the Site Director for the SCiPNET version of the file as soon as possible. Description See also: SCP-7451 SCP-7451 (also known as Original Site-44) is a Canadian charter school located in 54.499998 -105.675497298. Descriptions of the location of SCP-7451 is semantically obfuscated 1; locating SCP-7451 requires the subject to have prior knowledge of the coordinates of SCP-7451. It is not possible to describe the location of SCP-7451 to another person, but the semantic obfuscation effect does not apply to scales large enough to imprecisely describe SCP-7451's location (e.g., describing it as located within a country). This property of SCP-7451 used to be present within SCP-7451 pre-Foundation occupation[citation needed ]. SCP-7451 contains 4 floors. Each floor is further subdivided into 4 quarters, with mats made out of various furs on the floor. Material analysis of the mats reveal that they belong to different animals within the Arctic Circle, both extinct and living. Carbon dating of the mats reveal that they were made at different times, ranging from during the Last Glacial Period to pre-Foundation settlement. Some quarters have various objects that mimic the surrounding fauna piled on the corners, while other quarters have walls of ice that Foundation interior design historian Alexandra Shirley theorizes to be a teaching implement to juvenile SCP-7451-P instances, due to the slight carvings in the wall 5. Other Foundation interior design historians, like Mark Smithson, theorize this to be a ritualized artifact for channelling ontokinetic energy 16 SCP-7451 currently functions as a temporary detaining centre for suspected GOI informants, anomalous individuals, and SCP-7451-P instances charged with various crimes within Site 44. SCP-7451-P See also: SCP-7451-P SCP-7451 previously contained various instances of SCP-7451-P, Spheniscidae-resembling entities that have sentience2 and sapience3. SCP-7451-P instances do not substantially differ from non-anomalous Spheniscidae, with 2 exceptions — the high amount of latent thaumaturgic energy within each SCP-7451-P instance, and a small, clear, round organ within SCP-7451-P. The Foundation theorizes that the SCP-7451-P instances use this object as a form of currency, although the economy of the SCP-7451-P instances is still unknown due to the reclusive nature of the SCP-7451-P instances. Mild suppression of an SCP-7451-P instance's latent thaumaturgic energy causes it physical pain; said activities are to be minimized. The majority of SCP-7451-P instances have relocated within Site 44 and are Foundation employees, with 30% of SCP-7451-P instances occupying various positions within the Foundation, compared to 15% of Fae and 13.4% of human populations within Site 444. SCP-7451-P instances that are interned within SCP-7451 for longer than 3 years begin to suffer from various mental illnesses, including but not limited to: Depression Anxiety Hallucinations Psychosis Cannibalism (against SCP-7451-P instances) Human flesh consumption There are no known methods to cure the symptoms from the SCP-7451-P instances, although Foundation researchers are studying various remedies similar to play activities performed by juvenile SCP-7451-P instances that have been found to reduce the onset of such symptoms. Discovery and History of SCP-7451 SCP-7451 was discovered during a routine trip by RCMP officers on December 1950; previous reports of penguins existing within SCP-7451's general radius by townspeople were dismissed as local folk tales. RCMP officers found that the initial contact with the SCP-7451-P instances were welcoming; they were offered various objects including "spherical, ice-like white objects", and the RCMP officers offered some of their coffee and cigarettes they were carrying at the time. This proved to be an essential demonstration of continued well-meaning interaction with the SCP-7451-P instances that led the SCP-7451-P instances to have a welcoming disposition towards humans in general. Shortly after discovery of the area, RCMP officers (and by extension the Canadian government) assumed unofficial control over the area, with the promise of more cigarettes in exchange for protection offered by RCMP officers. The contract also stipulated the handout of more of the "spherical ice-like objects" provided by the SCP-7451-P instances, as they were an effective coolant for an RCMP officer's portable icebox. Post-Occult War, due to an agreement between newly-elected Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau, the Foundation, and other developed countries1, control of the area around SCP-7451 and similar areas was transferred to the Foundation, with an agreement of a 10-year transitional period between the Foundation and the Canadian government. Initial contact with the Foundation was marked with hostility and aggression, with a minority of SCP-7451-P instances attempting to kill Foundation personnel[clearance locked ]. After MTF Fe-2 ("Bannock Brigade") was able to secure the area, a primitive Scranton Reality Anchor (SRA) was found to have caused nearby SCP-7451-P instances to enter into a rage state8[clearance locked]. With the collaboration of multiple SCP-7451-P instances, the broken proto-SRA was removed. This resulted in positive relations with the Foundation, with the Foundation offering various protective services in exchange for the same objects the RCMP officers were given. Through this agreement (in addition to the positive relations the Foundation has established with SCP-7451-P instances), the construction of Site 44 began. Construction of Site 44 During construction of Site 44, some remnants of the malfunctioning proto-SRA manifested within the construction site, causing hired SCP-7451-P instances to attack Foundation construction workers6. With the help of the local SCP-7451-P instances, the Canadian government, and RCMP officers, the attacks against Foundation construction workers were minimized. The ice-like object that the SCP-7451-P instances offered to the Foundation was found to be a potent thaumaturgic conduit. Due to this discovery, the Foundation created three objectives to be fulfilled by Site 44, including but not limited to: 1. The study of the ice SCP-7451-P instances produce, (referred to as Empyrean ice) 2. The improvement of living conditions within and around Site 44 through modernization and industrialization. 3. The industrialization of Empyrean ice. As of 2019/09/23, 2 out of the 3 goals are fulfilled[clearance locked ]. On 2000/07/20, due to the low amount of injuries reported on-site, in addition to high return on investment compared to sister sites, Site 44 was officially integrated into the Foundation Network, becoming the 899th site within the Foundation. The number 44 was taken to reference a local site that helped them out during the Site 44 Construction Riots. Site 44 Construction Riots See also: Site 44 Construction Riots Pre-Riots, various work ethic violations and contract violations were being performed against SCP-7451-P instances[clearance locked\ ]. An internal Ethics Committee investigation post-riots reveals egregious Foundation work policy violations9, unauthorized salary reductions, and an unsafe work environment leading to deaths on Site 4415. Various anomalous being rights abuses also occurred within the construction sites, notably juvenile labour and the creation of a mass grave[citation needed ] for juvenile labourers that died due to work injuries[clearance locked]11. This led to severe unrest among the SCP-7451-P instances. Various protests were held against the Site Director. According to a survey conducted by the Foundation, most formal complaints against the Site Director felt like it was being ignored[clearance locked][citation needed ]. Some complaints did reach the Site Director — for example, a complaint on the unsafe working conditions SCP-7451-P instances were subjected to was received, and its suggestions for safer work environments was implemented. A survey by the Statistics and Site Approval Committee within the Foundation revealed that compared from previous years, the Foundation's approval rating dropped from 1% compared to 2%. On 1986/05/04, a group of SCP-7451-P instances called Iliarjuk Atirtaq (GOI-440) attacked the South-East and South-West construction sites. GOI-440 quickly gained an advantage over the Foundation construction workers due to the group's profiency with the local terrain, and MTF Fe-2 was sent to disarm GOI-440. However, the ontokinetic abilities of GOI-440 made it difficult to disarm the SCP-7451-P instances, and after GOI-440 established its presence within the construction site, it started establishing various work encampments within the construction sites. The work encampments were designed for captured individuals to gather food and take care of juvenile SCP-7451-P instances. According to one of the members of MTF Fe-2, "We were forced to dig for various root vegetables; […] in addition to dismantling the machinery […] we were also asked to cook for the SCP-7451-P instances. Due to the overwhelming opinion of the Foundation to cease negotiations with GOI-440, in addition to the SCP-7451-P instances's inability to disassemble the machinery because of the instances's biological differences compared to non-anomalous humans12, few machineries were ever disassembled. An internal Foundation audit conducted post-Riots10 found that 10% of captured Foundation officials were injured within the camps, while 1% died due to overexposure to the environment. 87% of the Foundation officials captured admitted to doing nothing within the work encampments. The remaining 2% of Foundation officials refused to comment on the quality of the SCP-7451-P work encampments. Site 44 called for backup once it was known to upper management that MTF Fe-2 was unable to disarm GOI-440. Only Site 43 was willing to respond to Site 44's backup calls. This is due to multiple reasons, including but not limited to the treatment of Areas (as Site 44 was called Area CND-IND before their inauguration) as a temporary unit leading to Sites generally ignoring calls for assistance, the lack of resources required to send over a substantial MTF unit to disarm GOI-440, and the unwillingness of some sites to disarm SCP-7451-P instances. Site 43 (with their expertise in the use of memetics in warfare) inoculated MTF Fe-2 against common ontokinetic attacks that GOI-440 was using against the Foundation. MTF scout units were able to retrieve various information about GOI-440 within the South-West and South-East construction sites; one such information is the spread of SCP-7451-P-supportive propaganda within the area, including but not limited to the idea that the Foundation was hosting more mass graves within the other two sectors[clearance locked\ ]13[wrong citation?\]. In response to the gathered information, Site 43 deployed various counter-propaganda memes that lead SCP-7451-P instances to forget or misremember the propaganda of GOI-440. Initial tests of the counter-propaganda memetics required the use of juvenile SCP-7451-P instances; multiple SCP-7451-P instances were asked to hand over juveniles for study, with various compensations to adults if the instances do. On 1988/03/12, after gathering more intelligence and waiting for the Site 43 Memetics Department to finish developing the counter-memes, the Foundation proceeded to enter the South-West Sector to disarm some low-ranking members of GOI-440, along with serving as a field test for the various memetics Site 43 has designed. Due to GOI-440's lack of knowledge regarding modern military tactics, the South-West construction site was seized, and GOI-440's encampment within the South-West construction site was disarmed. Restocking for supplies and for more intelligence, 2 days later, the Foundation proceeded to launch a larger armed force to the South-East Sector, with a larger group of MTF Fe-2 and SCP-7451-P volunteers. Compared to the previous disarmament, GOI-440 was more familiar with the tactics used by the Foundation. However, due to the knowledge of the local volunteer SCP-7451-P instances with the Foundation, various dangers the Foundation faced, including traps, ambushes, and ontokinetic attacks, was either avoided or mitigated. Finally, on 1200 1988/03/15, the South-East construction site was recaptured, placing all of the Site 44 construction site under the Foundation once more. Casualties were minimal on the Foundation's side, with 10 injuries and 1 death resulting from the disarmament. However, multiple casualties within the SCP-7451-P population were noted, with 20% of male adult SCP-7451-P instances dying due to the disarmaments, 30% of male adult SCP-7451-P instances dying due to further complications within the raid, 10% of juvenile SCP-7451-P instances dying, and 45% of juvenile SCP-7451-P instances being injured. After the Riots, more surveillance technology to monitor the various activities GOI-440-affiliated SCP-7451-P instances and other similar SCP-7451-P instances that demonstrate similar behaviours. The counter-memetic memes that Site 43 contributed was repurposed to boost the approval rating of the Foundation among SCP-7451-P instances. This was demonstrated in a survey post-Riots, where the approval rating of the Foundation changed from 1% of SCP-7451-P instances, to 65% of SCP-7451-P instances14. The Foundation has maintained the approval rating, with an acceptable margin of error. The Site 44 Construction Riots are remembered as a formative event in the history of the Site; there is a museum near the Foundation offices dedicated to a retelling of the events during the Riots, and various administrators like the Site Directors of both 43 and 44 will talk about the officials that made sure the other sectors were still in operation when the Riots were occurring. Due to the unique circumstances surrounding the Riots, a higher-than-average amount of Foundation Medal of Honours were distributed among Foundation members who participated in the disarmament of GOI-440. Canadian Site 44 See also: Site 44 (Canada) Expanding on the initial anomalous behaviour of SCP-7451, Site 44 is enveloped within a semantic field that renders individuals not part of the staff structure of Site 44 unable to find the precise location of Site 44 without prior knowledge of the location taught by the Foundation. Due to this unique constraint, Foundation Site Architects took inspiration from landmark-based urban planning theories like Traditional Chinese Medicine and Neoclassical-Mabean architecture to create a Site where navigation is done through using landmarks as an absolute reference. On the centre of the Site, serving as the landmark of Site 44, is SCP-7451. Due to the number of incarcerated individuals, a building beside SCP-7451 is being constructed to house a larger number of said individuals. The anomalous effect SCP-7451 exerts over the site is augmented with various Scranton Reality Buoys, while the range and strength of the anomalous influence is controlled by Scranton Reality Anchors. Site 44 is also divided into 4 sectors, each possessing their own landmark. In between the sectors are large highways that move supplies inside and outside the Site. Each road is named after the direction they are placed in. The North-West Sector is the residential area of Site 44. It is further divided in Foundation and civilian areas, with high populations of Fae and Yeren immigrants that live within it. A statue of a human Foundation official serves as the landmark of this sector, to commemorate the various workers that helped build Site 44. Within the sector are the houses, placed in a grid formation. The North-East Sector is the recreational sector, alongside serving as the testing area for applications and products made with Empyrean ice. A night market made up of various foreign street food like Mediterranean, English, and American food is the designated landmark of this area. Within the sector, various businesses that sell experimental products are placed in a grid formation. The South-West Sector is the main entrance and exit to Site 44. The administrative building where policies regarding Site 44 are passed is the designated landmark of this area. Within the sector, surrounding the landmark, are automated defence systems, in addition to an underground bunker where Foundation officials perform Foundation duties in. The South-East Sector is the industrial area of Site 44, serving as the Research and Development section of Site 44. The neomodern building where Foundation and civilian officials research various products related to Empyrean ice is the designated landmark in this sector. Within the sector, various traditional houses of the SCP-7451-P instances are placed on a grid formation. Effects of SCP-7451 on Site-44 Recently, the inherent effects within SCP-7451 have begun to strengthen and expand; during a routine patrol by some MTFs on 2010/10/25, some members got lost for 4 hours and were unable to return back to their quarters. During an inspection within the Research and Development Department, various hallucinatory effects including but not limited to auditory hallucinations of screams, visual hallucinations of bodies, and mass hysteria regarding a mass grave of SCP-7451-P bodies living under the south-east sector were reported on by MTFs. Subjects with a Cognitive Resistance Value (CRV) higher than 2.1 were able to resist the effect. It was soon discovered that the effects of SCP-7451 were strongest around the south-east sector; it is suspected that the high amount of Empyrean ice stored in there causes the extension of SCP-7451's effect within the sector, possibly in conjunction to the graveyard that resides within the sector. Thus, various relocation procedures were done to ensure that SCP-7451's effects were localized to the original area of SCP-7451. Although there was some opposition coming from various groups7 [unreliable source? ], including local SCP-7451-P instances, on the whole, the majority of residents within SCP-7451 including 90% of SCP-7451-P instances agreed to the relocation. It was also found that the installation of large SRAs causes SCP-7451's effects within the site to be minimized. Despite some protests within the local SCP-7451-P community, other citizens along with Foundation officials and other SCP-7451-P instances agreed to this procedure, citing various concerns regarding the destruction of the Site if SCP-7451's effects were left to spread. Furthermore, SCP-7451's effects expanded to memory manipulation; various employees within the Foundation, in particular a majority of SCP-7451-P instances, remember a falsified version of history where the Foundation created a pile of SCP-7451-P instances created from old SCP-7451-P instances that generates Empyrean ice[clearance locked ]. Although various amnestics were useful in erasing said memories, it was soon found that the education of the Foundation's role in assisting in the history of SCP-7451 and Site-44 was effective in reducing the memory manipulation effects of SCP-7451; thus, this file was soon created to teach the accurate history of both SCP-7451 and Site-44. Due to the quick efforts of the Site Director, the potential scenario of SCP-7451's effects harming Foundation officials was minimized. No such proof of a mass grave under the south-east sector of Site 44 was found[citation needed ][clearance locked ]. See also: Site-43 Bibliography 1. McDoctorate, P. Nov 2016. Obfuscation and Encryption of Semantic Concepts. Journal of Memetics, p. 17-24. 2. Eigenwaltz, G. Oct 1944. Weber-Schultz Test of Sentience. Journal of Abnormal Studies. 3. Seindel, B. Dec 1940. Weber-Bauer Sapience Exam for Abnormals. Journal on the Investigation of Abnormals. 4. Robertson, N. Dec 2012. Site-44 Statistics. Foundation Site Statistics, p. 136-150. 5. Shirley, A. Jul 1990. Interior Design History. Aesthetistician Analysis Zine, p. 37-39. 6. Sulijuq, I. Aug 2012. A Material Analysis of the Site 44 Construction Riots. Anomalous Philosophy and Worldview, p. 32-40. 7. Cook, F. Sept 2010. Survey on the Relocation of SCP-7451-P Burial Sites. Anomalous Philosophy and Worldview, p. 10-15. 8. Scranton, R. Jun 1943. Effects of Malfunctioning Scranton-Carl Reality Anchors on Various Abnormalities. Journal of Abnormal Science, p. 10-13 9. SCP Foundation. Internal Work Policy Regarding the Treatment of Anomalous Individuals and Groups. 10. Borges, J. Jan 2008. First-Hand Accounts of the Site 44 Construction Riot Work Encampments. Foundation-al Events — Analysis and Evaluation, p. 32-38. 11. Qanipaat, K. Mar 2008. An Investigation In The Alleged Mass Graves Pre-Construction Riots. Foundation-al Events — Analysis and Evaluation, p. 20-25. 12. Herrman, K. Feb 1950. A Biological Analysis of the Abnormalities Found Inside Area CND-IND. Biology of Abnormalities, p. 10-16. 13. Raynard, W. 1960. Various Strategies on the Memetic Control of Information Amongst Sentient and Sapient Abnormalities. Journal of Abnormal Science, p. 10-20. 14. John, K. Dec 1990. Foundation Area Statistics — Area CND-IND. Foundation Site Statistics, p. 200-210. 15. Cimmerian, J. Dec 1995. Ethics Committee Inquest on the Working Conditions of Area CND-IND. Ethics Committee Survey, p. 45-55. 16. Smithson, M. Jul 2000. SCP-7451 and Its Interior Design — A Response to Alexandra Shirley. Aesthetistician Analysis Zine, p. 37-39. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7451" by basirskipreader, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7451. 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. See Treaty of Hy-Brasil for a complete list of the agreements between the Foundation and countries within the EU and NATO. |
SCP-7452 | safe | A magic bear skull tells a man the winning lottery numbers. SCP-7452: Last Minute Lottery Word Count: 1,200 Reading Time: 4 minutes ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} Item №: SCP-7452 Level 3/7452 Classified SCP-7452. Assigned Site Site Director Research Head Assigned Task Force Site-56 Peter Palermo Dr. Gary Gleason N/A Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7452 is to be contained in an item locker at Site-56. Research is currently underway to identify a possible method to awaken SCP-7452 for experimentation. Description: SCP-7452 is the skull of an Ursus americanus (black bear) possessing an intense fluctuating signature of Elan-Vital Energy (EVE). The item was obtained from Eric Klammanski, designated PoI-7452. According to PoI-7452, when SCP-7452 is active, it possesses flames in its eye sockets and speaks in a deep, masculine voice. The item is allegedly able to predict future events including, but not limited to, games of chance. The user is required to sacrifice blood to SCP-7452 before soliciting it for predictions. Following its acquisition by the Foundation, SCP-7452 is presently dormant. A method of awakening it has not been determined due to a lack of knowledge held by PoI-7452 regarding such a process. Addendum: SCP-7452 was obtained in Kyuzhevitz, North Carolina, USA. Prior to containment, PoI-7452 attempted to use information gathered from the object to win the Super-Duper Millions Jackpot on July 18, 2014. A video was filmed by a bystander during the event and posted to social media; PoI-7452 admitted to the existence of SCP-7452 in this video, alerting Foundation webcrawlers. Site-56 personnel were dispatched and successfully detained PoI-7452. Following containment, the convenience store in which the aforementioned event occurred was identified. The store's security footage of the event was obtained successfully; the transcript below has been written with data gathered from both the security footage and the video filmed by the bystander. Transcript 7452-1 Location: Choi's Corner Market in Kyuzhevitz, NC, USA Date: July 18, 2014 Foreword: The Super-Duper Millions Jackpot draws its numbers every Friday at 22:00 EDT. <Begin Log> It is 21:50 EDT. PoI-7452 is waiting behind another customer at the cash register, fidgeting with a piece of paper. His right hand is bandaged. He continuously checks his wristwatch and wipes the sweat from his face. The customer in front of PoI-7452 finishes the transaction and walks away from the counter. The clerk, identified as store owner Kang-doo Choi, waves goodbye. Choi: Thank you, come again! Choi turns towards PoI-7452 as the latter approaches the counter with the paper. PoI-7452 grins as he sets the paper on the counter and claps his hands. PoI-7452: Choi, my man! You know the drill, one Super-Duper ticket my good sir. Choi frowns as PoI-7452 points at the paper. PoI-7452: I got the winning numbers right here, they're uh… PoI-7452 looks down at the paper. PoI-7452: Eight, six, seventy-five, thirty… PoI-7452 looks up at Choi, who is shaking his head. Choi: Eric, out of good conscience, I refuse to sell you any more lotto tickets. PoI-7452: Wha- how come?! Choi: You've spent thousands of dollars on the lotto. Scratchers, Super-Duper, Lucky Horseshoe, and every time you win nothing. PoI-7452: Okay, but now I know the numbers, Choi. I'll actually win now, just let me enter one last time! Choi: I will not indulge your addiction anymore, for your own good. PoI-7452: Sir, just- after this, after today, I'll be set for life! Please just sell me the ticket! Choi: No means no, Eric. PoI-7452 rubs his forehead and hair with his hands. PoI-7452: You know you're losing my money by refusing me service, right Choi? Choi looks at the line of customers behind PoI-7452, one of which is holding up a smartphone to film the event. Choi: I can survive without watching you suffer. There's paying customers behind you with places to be. PoI-7452 checks his watch. PoI-7452: Shit, nine fifty-four! PoI-7452 holds up the paper and points at it. PoI-7452: These numbers'll expire in six minutes! I need to play them now! Choi: Play them next week, today you take a break. PoI-7452: But Choi, I can't- I can't play them next week, I told you! Choi: Why not? PoI-7452 pauses to breathe and wipe his brow. PoI-7452: Look, uh… I found this bear skull, right? It was like a- a magic skull, it could talk to me and predict the future. I had to give it my blood… PoI-7452 shows Choi his bandaged hand. PoI-7452: …to get it to tell me today's lottery numbers. The problem is, after it told me, it fell asleep, and I don't know how to wake it up for next week's lottery. So that's how I got these numbers and why I need to use them today. Choi stares at PoI-7452. Choi: You need to see a doctor. PoI-7452: Wait- no, I'm not bullshitting, I promise! Just let me play one more time, sir! Please! PoI-7452 clasps his hands together. PoI-7452: Mister Choi, I beg you. Just one more game, then I'll never, ever play again. I'll give you twenty-five… thirty percent of the winnings. PoI-7452 leans forward towards Choi. PoI-7452: Just one more time, then I'll quit forever. Please sir, please. Choi looks behind PoI-7452 at the line of customers. He takes a deep breath. Choi: This will be your last lotto, Eric. What are the numbers again? PoI-7452 pumps his fists. PoI-7452: YES! Okay, uh… eight, six, seventy-five, thirty, and nine. Choi: …seventy-five, thirty-nine? PoI-7452: No, it's… PoI-7452 holds up the paper towards Choi and points at the numbers on it. PoI-7452: It's thirty, as in "three-zero", and then the last number is nine. Choi: Three-zero, and nine. Five dollars. PoI-7452 inserts his credit card into the card reader. It beeps twice. Choi: It declined. PoI-7452: NO!! PoI-7452 turns towards the line of customers behind him. PoI-7452: Can someone pay for me? I'll pay you back, I promise! The other customers snicker at PoI-7452. Customer 1: Get a job! PoI-7452: You don't get it! I found a magic skull and it told me today's lottery numbers! One more play and I'm set for life! Customer 2: Go see a shrink, you junkie! PoI-7452 scratches his head and looks at his watch. PoI-7452: Look, uh… I got a blanket and a pack of Newports in my car, I'll give them to you, just someone please help a brother out! Another customer checks her phone, then looks at PoI-7452. Customer 3: If I pay, will you finally leave? PoI-7452: Yes yes yes! Please! Customer 3 sighs and approaches the counter. She places her six-pack of beer on the counter, Choi scans it. Choi: With the lotto ticket, it's eleven ninety-seven. The customer inserts her credit card into the reader. It beeps once; Choi nods his head at PoI-7452. The lottery ticket is printed out, Choi hands it to PoI-7452, who examines it. PoI-7452: Nine fifty-nine! I fucking made it! Nine fifty-nine! PoI-7452 laughs as he pumps his fists in the air. Customer 3: Excuse me, my Newports? PoI-7452: Of course, of course! Thank you so, so, so much, ma'am! PoI-7452 looks at Choi. PoI-7452: And Choi, you're the man as always! Thank you for coming around! Customer 3 and PoI-7452 exit the store as the latter points at Choi. PoI-7452: As I promised, twenty percent! <End Log> Following this event, the winning numbers given by SCP-7452 were revealed to have been for the North Carolina Lucky Horseshoe Lottery, and not the Super-Duper Millions Jackpot. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7452" by Jiwoahn, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7452. 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: skully.jpg Name: Black bear skull 2 Author: Acroterion License: CC BY-SA 4.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Additional Notes: Slightly cropped from original |
SCP-7453 | keter | + Show component code - Hide component code :root { --sidebar-width-on-desktop: calc(var(--base-font-size) * (266 / 15)); --body-width-on-desktop: 45.75rem; } @media only screen and (min-width: 56.25rem) { #content-wrap { display: flex; position: initial; flex-direction: row; flex-grow: 2; width: calc(100vw - (100vw - 100%)); max-width: inherit; height: auto; min-height: calc(100vh - var(--final-header-height-on-desktop, 10.125rem)); margin: 0 var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 13.6rem) 0 calc(var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 13.6rem) * -1 / 2); } #main-content { position: initial; width: var(--body-width-on-desktop, 45.75rem); max-width: var(--body-width-on-desktop, 45.75rem); max-height: 100%; margin: 0 auto; padding: 2rem 1rem; } #page-content { max-width: min(90vw, var(--body-width-on-desktop, 45.75rem)); } #side-bar { position: -webkit-sticky; position: sticky; top: 0; left: 0; grid-area: side-bar; width: var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 13.6rem) !important; min-width: var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 13.6rem) !important; max-height: 100vh; padding-right: 2.5rem; padding-left: 0.5rem; overflow-y: scroll; transition: translate 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1), background-color 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1), padding 300ms linear, margin 300ms linear; border: none; border-color: rgba(var(--swatch-tertiary-color, 170, 170, 170), 0.4); background-color: rgba(var(--sidebar-bg-color, 255, 255, 255), 0); translate: calc(var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 13.5rem) * -1 - 1rem); direction: rtl; scrollbar-width: thin; -ms-scroll-chaining: none; overscroll-behavior: contain; scrollbar-color: rgba(var(--swatch-primary-darker), 0.1) /* Thumb */ rgba(var(--swatch-tertiary-color), 0.05); /* Track */ } #side-bar::-webkit-scrollbar-track { background-color: rgba(var(--swatch-secondary-color, 244, 244, 244), 0.8); } #side-bar::-webkit-scrollbar, #side-bar::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb, #side-bar::-webkit-scrollbar-corner { width: 0.5rem; border-right-width: calc(100vw + 100vh); border-right-style: inset; border-color: inherit; background-color: rgba(var(--sidebar-bg-color, 255, 255, 255), 0); } #side-bar:is(:hover, :active, :focus-within) { margin-right: 2.25rem; padding-right: 0.25rem; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: auto; border-color: rgba(var(--swatch-primary-darker), 1); background-color: rgba(var(--sidebar-bg-color, 255, 255, 255), 1); translate: calc(var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 1rem) - var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 0)); scrollbar-color: rgba(170, 170, 170, 1) /* Thumb */ rgba(252, 252, 252, 1); /* Track */ scrollbar-color: rgb(var(--swatch-primary-darker, 170, 170, 170), 1) /* Thumb */ rgb(var(--swatch-menubg-color, 252, 252, 252), 1); /* Track */ } #main-content::after { content: " "; display: flex; position: fixed; top: 0; left: 1rem; align-items: center; justify-content: center; width: 1rem; height: 100%; max-height: 100%; transition: left 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1), background-position 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1), opacity 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1); background: url("https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/component%3Acollapsible-sidebar/sidebar-tab.svg"); background-attachment: fixed; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: center left 1rem; background-size: 1rem 12.875rem; pointer-events: none; } #side-bar:is(:hover, :active, :focus-within) + #main-content::after { left: calc(var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 14.5rem) * -1); width: 0rem; transition: left 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1), background-position 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1), opacity 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1); opacity: 0; background-position: center left calc(var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 14.5rem) * -1); font-size: 0em; } #main-content::before { content: " "; position: absolute; z-index: 9; top: var(--final-header-height-on-desktop, 0); left: 0; width: var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 14.5rem); height: calc(100% - var(--final-header-height-on-desktop, 0.688rem) - 2.313rem); margin-bottom: calc(var(--final-header-height-on-desktop, -2.313rem) * -1 - 2.313rem); transition: translate 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1), opacity 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1); opacity: 0.5; background-color: rgb(var(--swatch-alternate-color, 0, 0, 0)); pointer-events: none; translate: calc(var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 14.5rem) * -1 + 1rem); } #side-bar:is(:hover, :active, :focus-within) + #main-content::before { translate: 0; opacity: 0; } #side-bar .side-block { margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 0.25em; border-right-width: 0rem; border-left-width: 0rem; border-radius: 0; background-color: rgb(0, 0, 0, 0); direction: ltr; } #side-bar .scpnet-interwiki-wrapper { direction: ltr; } /* Print Friendly Formatting by Estrella */ body.print-body { --sidebar-width-on-desktop: 0; } body.print-body #main-content::before, body.print-body #main-content::after { display: none; } } Deal Breaker SCP-7453 — Deal-Breaker The most powerful people tried to stop power itself. I think they failed. ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} 5/7453 LEVEL 5/7453 CLASSIFIED Item #: SCP-7453 Keter Special Containment Procedures: Knowledge of factual information regarding SCP-7453 is to be significantly restricted among the Foundation below overseer clearance personnel, using amnestics. Unauthorized utilization of SCP-7453 by Foundation personnel, in the absence of proper credential verification and authorization, is grounds for termination. A select group of departments within the Foundation, namely the Departments of Tactical Theology, Department of Ontokinetics, and Applied Thaumaturgy, may study the anomaly while being heavily supervised. The study of SCP-7453-AΩ’s nature is prohibited. More information concerning SCP-7453-AΩ deal control can be found on the "Foundation / Global Coalition Clause of Thaumaturgic Sway." Update: Further utilization of SCP-7453 has been stopped indefinitely. Description: SCP-7453 is a thaumaturgical ritual "deal" between two sentient beings. When performed, the ritual will allow one thaumaturge practitioner (referred to as "giver") to share one or multiple occult capabilities with another being (referred to as "receiver"), even if already possessing such capabilities or not. SCP-7453 is one, if not the, simplest ritual in thaumaturgical history, having a single requirement: the acceptance of both beings to create the deal between each. This can be a verbal, written, non-verbal gesture, or telepathic agreement, with the potential for additional requirements1 at the discretion of the giver. A giver can have as many receivers as desired. If a receiver reproduces, the offspring has a possibility of receiving a slightly diminished version of the occult capability. The receiver can later become a giver themselves, offering the same magical ability acquired through SCP-7453. The receiver, now in possession of the occult energy, has to learn its proper use. The Foundation posits that the continued utilization of SCP-7453 over the course of history is likely responsible for the emergence of all individuals practicing thaumaturgy. Consequently, this hypothesis suggests that SCP-7453-AΩ potentially serves as the originating wellspring of all occult capabilities within both the human populace and other magic-able species. SCP-7453-AΩ serves as the presumed focal point from which all SCP-7453 deals originate. The exact identity of SCP-7453-AΩ remains undisclosed; various individuals and entities possessing significant influence have asserted their status as SCP-7453-AΩ, albeit without substantial verification. Despite this absence of conclusive evidence, prevailing consensus sources suggest that this anomaly represents an exceptionally ancient and potent divine entity. The thaumaturgical ritual known as "Rites of Solomon," classified as SCP-3457, is purported to grant the practitioner full control over SCP-7453-AΩ influence and deals. In effect, possessing all components allows the wielder to exercise complete authority over the distribution of thaumaturgic abilities among Homo populations. The rite itself was never fully completed. Addendum: In light of recent events, D.C. Al Fine, Under-Secretary-General of the Global Occult Coalition, has communicated the following to the Overseer Council of the Foundation. It's the year 1870. The aftermath of the Sixth Occult War had left behind a searing and indelible mark, a worldwide and extraordinarily brutal upheaval in the anomalous realm. The prospect of yet another conflict of this size filled the world with dread. A group of young yet promising German Thaumaturgists were searching for the existence of a solution. And not so long after, they became aware of the existence of God. A collective thought resonated among them: the imperative to bring about a definitive resolution. Their method was a complex and arcane ritual, an amalgamation of ancient texts, esoteric knowledge, and forbidden incantations. Many of them quit or even expired due to the size of such task. But after more than a decade of countless hard work, in the year 1882, they successfully created the weapon that would soon kill God, executed without a moment of hesitation. Initially, their assumption was that this act of deicide would erase all occult powers, thereby achieving the goal of a normal, non-anomalous society. They weren’t entirely wrong: Magic itself is disappearing among us, just way slower than expected, possibly due to the source being older than time. What we failed to grasp at first is that this entity wasn't the source of thaumaturgy. This group's actions played a pivotal role in shaping the events that ultimately led to the establishment of the Allied Occult Initiative, which in turn paved the way for the UNGOC as you know it today. We classified the being as LTE-0913-Ex-Machina, and realized much later what we truly did: God was the stabilizer of occult power, allowing us to freely use it through those "deals." You’ve noticed, we all have. The anomalous is growing stronger by the day. Our reality is struggling to not fail as anomalies of any kind multiply out of control. Organizations of the abnormal, no matter how powerful we currently are, won’t stay for long if this continues. And unfortunately for us, it will. We have fucked up. This is probably the best way to describe what might be the worst mistake of all mankind. The metaphysical corpse of the divinity is slowly decaying. Magic is not truly disappearing; it just stops being controlled. We can continue making these deals for now, but it won't be possible indefinitely. In the coming years, occult powers will fade, dissipating throughout our world and transforming into increasingly chaotic anomalous phenomena that will greatly affect our society for the worse. I, myself, have made thousands of these deals. Some that are even allowing me to breathe still to this day, an ability which I fear to lose possibly soon. We have fucked up. Badly. I did not send this for forgiveness; after hiding this for too long, we all know we are way past that point now. We've spent the last century trying to fix our past mistakes without even any hints of hope. What I want to do is ask you, Foundation, to stay strong. I do not believe the following years will improve, but even so, we must remain firm in this godless world. Because that's what we do. While the path ahead may be fraught with uncertainty and chaos, I assure you the GOC will do everything to protect this universe by your side, if you will. I would have finished this with "May God help us all," but even my sarcasm has its limits in these rough times. I'm sorry. God, I am so sorry. The Foundation's response to the revelation of the unilateral termination of SCP-7453-AΩ, circa 1882, in an attempt to eradicate all Occult power is currently awaiting deliberation and a vote by the O5 Council. Footnotes 1. Such as losing something valuable to the receiver, committing displeasing acts, blood oath, geographical constraint, or amount of occult power already acquired. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7453" by Felixou, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7453. 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. Image 1 Filename: dcaf(1).png Name: D. C. Al Fine Signature Author: Aelanna License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: The SCP Wiki Thumbnail Filename: deal.png Author: Felixou License: CC BY-SA 3.0 |
SCP-7454 | euclid | Item#: 7454 Level3 Containment Class: euclid Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: warning link to memo Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7454 is contained within Site-17's anomalous humanoid containment wing in a standard humanoid containment chamber furnished with all essential amenities. The chamber is to be fitted with no less than two (2) Scranton Reality Anchors which may be activated or deactivated dependent on SCP-7454's cooperation. SCP-7454's chamber is to be checked daily for any new additions, and said additions are to be removed pending disciplinary action and activation of SRAs SCP-7454 has agreed to only create new additions after a request is filed as part of its good behaviour conditions. All requests are to be reviewed solely by Dr. Iszth for approval or denial. SCP-7454 is currently cooperating with Foundation staff in exchange for psychological and gender-affirming treatment. As a part of this agreement, SCP-7454 has agreed to not utilise its abilities outside of its chamber and as such has been allowed limited free movement through the facility. Any infraction on this agreement may be met with revocation of applied benefits and activation of SRAs. Edit by Dr. Iszth: As of 07/08/2021, all staff interacting with SCP-7454 are to refer to him as 'Isaac' as a part of the current containment agreement. Under no circumstances are any staff to refer to SCP-7454 as 'Aphrodite' or mention Aphrodite or SCP-7454's past to any degree. Any staff member doing so will face disciplinary action. Any Foundation member breaking this rule on a regular basis will face possible reassignment or potentially contract termination. This is not optional, people. These procedures are in place as a compulsory ongoing method of containment. If anyone refuses to comply, they will answer to me directly. I will not repeat myself.- Dr. Iszth Description: SCP-7454 is an entity currently taking the form of a tan-skinned male in their mid 20s. SCP-7454 has displayed the ability to warp reality to a significantly high degree, often using this ability to transform people and objects in its surroundings into fantastical alterations for its own amusement or when in an enraged state. SCP-7454 has shown full control over these abilities, whose full extent is currently unknown. SCP-7454 claims to be claims to have once been the Greek Goddess of love, beauty, and sex, known as 'Aphrodite', although SCP-7454 seems to reject this name and moniker, often reacting negatively when referred to as such. SCP-7454 suffers from a number of disorders such as depression, substance abuse, bipolar disorder, and gender dysphoria. It is currently presumed that the majority of these issues are a result of the established identity and worship of 'Aphrodite' clashing directly with SCP-7454's preferred identity, appearance, and gender. Addendum-7454-A: Discovery and Capture SCP-7454 was encountered during a routine surveillance operation in the township of A████, Nebraska U.S.A. on 21/07/2021. The town held a long-standing pagan belief system influenced by an encounter with an anomalous PoI. A single agent was embedded in the township to report any anomalous occurrences, of which there had been none reported before the encounter with SCP-7454. Note: SCP-7454 apparently has no relation to the PoI in question, and its arrival in A████ seems to be purely coincidental. RECOVERY LOG: SCP-7454 21/07/2021 Foreword: Agent Samuels was embedded in the township of A████ to follow up on any occurrences brought about by interaction with an anomalous PoI. The township had recently begun celebrating "Aphrodisia1" with the entire community engaging in festivities involving feasting, revelry, and displays of love and affection. Agent Samuels participated in the festival for one hour before the first sighting of SCP-7454. Note: The following timeline of events was pieced together from footage from security cameras, phones, and Agent Samuels' body cam, as well as from first-hand accounts. [BEGIN LOG] 11:32:00 The Festival begins with crowds gathering to watch parades of fancifully-dressed performers march through the street. Music is playing constantly along with petals and flowers being tossed across the parade. The crowd appears to be enjoying the festivities and feasting. 12:38:21 SCP-7454 is first spotted walking down a side street towards the town centre. Its gait is uneven, indicating heavy intoxication. It appears dishevelled and is drinking from a bottle in a brown paper bag. 12:42:32 SCP-7454 enters the town square and pushes through a crowd of onlookers and into the middle of the square where a sculpture of Aphrodite covered in flowers and wreaths is being prayed to. 12:44:12 SCP-7454 takes a large drink from the bottle (presumed to be alcoholic) before unzipping its pants and urinating on the statue's legs between two worshippers. 12:45:01 The crowd moves away from SCP-7454 as two large men walk up to and attempt to speak to SCP-7454 with the apparent intent to stop the disruption. 12:45:53 SCP-7454 pushes the men away before climbing up onto the sculpture, hanging from its neck. SCP-7454 then proceeds to shout over the crowd saying "Look at you all, praying to some chick like she gives a shit about your problems! But hey I can hardly blame you, she's got some pretty nice tits!" before throwing the bottle at one of the men, hitting them in the groin area before they fall over. 12:47:23 The music is stopped and the crowd is now centred around SCP-7454, along with Agent Samuels, as police and onlookers attempt to get SCP-7454 down from the sculpture. 12:52:21 After failing to remove SCP-7454 from the sculpture, the crowd has begun to yell and throw objects at SCP-7454. SCP-7454 responds by shouting "Fine, you want a real party? Let's party!" before snapping its fingers, resulting in a flash of light. 12:53:59 The statue suddenly begins to move and appears to now be made of flesh. It stands up as SCP-7454 jumps off onto the podium where it stood. The statue stands looking over the crowd which is now silent. 12:57:23 The statue lets out a loud noise akin to a burp before vomiting a torrent of liquid (determined to be red wine) onto the onlookers. The crowd begins screaming and scattering. SCP-7454 throws a shoe at the speakers built into the podium, causing them to play 'Footloose' by Kenny Loggins on loop. It is at this point that Agent Samuels calls in for backup. 13:04:21 The crowd continues to run about in confusion as the present police force move in to apprehend SCP-7454. SCP-7454 points to a nearby petting zoo, causing dozens of chickens to transform into large chicken-human hybrids. These entities then run into the police officers, biting at their posteriors. Several shots are fired, none of which stop the chicken creatures. 13:06:43 SCP-7454 dances through the wine pouring from the statue entity and kicks a football into a nearby building. The building suddenly turns into a gelatinous pink material with several individuals caught inside2. 13:08:42 Three more officers rush SCP-7454. One officer draws their service pistol and orders SCP-7454 to freeze. A large pile of snow manifests from an unknown source above the officers and falls on them, burying two of them and rendering them incapacitated. 13:08:59 SCP-7454 pulls the remaining officer close and kisses them on the lips. When the officer pulls away, they spontaneously liquify into a puddle of blue fluid. The puddle still retains the officer's face in its centre mass, which lets out a gargling scream when it is washed away by the torrent of wine. 13:10:32 Agent Samuels runs into the square as people rush to the side streets, running from the chicken entities. The statue entity attempts to stand but slips on the wine flooding the streets and falls back into the food banquet. 13:10:21 SCP-7454 takes notice of people fleeing and points to a street filled with civilians. SCP-7454 makes a gun firing motion as all the civilians' clothes are blown off. The clothes then animate and begin running after people still wearing clothes and attempting to remove them. 13:13:12 Agent Samuels aims their gun at SCP-7454 and attempts to fire, but instead [REDACTED] begins to spray from the barrel. Agent Samuels tosses the gun away as SCP-7454 can be heard saying "Aww, it's okay, love, happens to the best of us" and taking another drink out of a new bottle of alcohol (it is unknown where SCP-7454 obtained this bottle). 13:14:01 Agent Samuels attempts to rush SCP-7454 but trips over a chicken entity. SCP-7454 laughs and yells an obscene joke about 'falling for [REDACTED]' and turns its attention to the cake on the smashed banquet table. 13:17:21 SCP-7454 prods the cake with its finger, causing it to grow into a 2-metre-tall humanoid entity made of cake. The entity then moves over to Agent Samuels and says "This should be a piece of cake" before lunging at Agent Samuels who engages it in hand-to-hand combat. 13:18:01 The large statue entity can be heard snoring and is presumed to be unconscious. People can be seen chasing their clothes through the streets as an animate wooden horse (of unknown origin) chases after another police officer while making robotic neighing noises. SCP-7454 moves to a back alley behind the banquet table and out of sight. 13:20:21 Agent Samuels gains the upper hand against the cake entity and manages remove both its legs and arms, rendering it immobile. The cake entity is heard saying "Alright, we'll call it a draw," before Agent Samuels moves to look for SCP-7454 A detachment of agents arrives at the scene at this point and moves to help contain the situation. Around 50 gelatinous entities emerge from the transformed building and charge the agents. The agents respond by opening fire. 13:23:02 Agent Samuels moves to the alley where SCP-7454 was seen leaving, tripping over a swarm of chicken entities, kicking several to the side. The entities can be heard screaming as they were kicked. 13:25:21 The agents have managed to dispatch the gelatinous individuals with relative ease and rush through the crowd of nude individuals and chicken hybrids to where Agent Samuels is standing. Together they enter the alleyways. 13:26:12 The agents discover SCP-7454 unconscious in the alleyway. SCP-7454 has a bottle in its hand and its pants around its ankles. It is thought SCP-7454 passed out while urinating. 13:44:54 SCP-7454 is detained. Agents return to round up civilians and terminate or capture any anomalous entities remaining. Cleanup crews are dispatched and civilians are amnesticised. 13:46:52 SCP-7454 is moved to the closest SCP facility in R████. [END LOG] SCP-7454 was placed in a temporary containment chamber fitted with a portable Scranton Reality Anchor before it could be moved to a more permanent location. Addendum-7454-B: Interview Logs SCP-7454 awoke approximately 18 hours later in a state of confusion. After being informed that it was detained for the incident, SCP-7454 proceeded to abuse Foundation staff. While it is presumed that SCP-7454 attempted to use its powers to cause another incident, it would seem that the effects of the SRA implemented in its chamber (in addition to SCP-7454's extremely hungover state) prevented any effects from manifesting. During standard intake procedure, SCP-7454 claimed that they did nothing wrong due to the festival 'being a festival in their name'. When questioned further on this SCP-7454 did not elaborate; however, it was inferred from this interaction that SCP-7454 was claiming to be the Greek Goddess 'Aphrodite'. In light of this, Dr. Iszth, a researcher under the Department of Mythology and Folkloristics, was tasked with interviewing SCP-7454 in an attempt to learn more. Interview SCP-7454-1 Date: 22/07/2021 Interviewer: Dr. Iszth Subject: SCP-7454 Notes: SCP-7454 was relatively cooperative with Foundation staff following the intake procedure. The extent of SCP-7454's abilities was still unknown at this time, so several precautions had been taken to ensure that any reality bending effects would remain minimal. [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Iszth: This is Dr. Iszth, Department of Mythology and Folkloristics, conducting an interview of anomalous humanoid SCP-7454. SCP-7454 was discovered during routine surveillance of the township of A████. How are you feeling, SCP-7454? SCP-7454: Oh, I'm sorry, are you talking to me? I thought maybe you were talking to the table or something since you're just rattling off numbers like I'm a fucking piece of furniture. Dr. Iszth: Apologies, it's part of the job. Would you prefer if I called you Aphrodi- [At this point, the containment chamber begins to shake as SCP-7454 glares at Dr. Iszth. It is possible that the portable SRA may only partially dampen SCP-7454's reality-bending abilities, which are amplified when SCP-7454 is in an emotional state.] Dr. Iszth: Noted… perhaps for now we will refer to you with the moniker of 'Subject'. [The shaking ceases as SCP-7454 looks away] SCP-7454: Fine. Dr. Iszth: Very well. Now tell me, Subject. Why were you in the township of A████ yesterday? SCP-7454: To partake in the local baked goods. Dr. Iszth: Baked goods? SCP-7454: Yeah, they make these killer donuts there, filled to the brim with jam and cream, just the best. Dr. Iszth: Right… and the giant naked woman and chicken people? SCP-7454: Oh, that? Just trying to have some fun at the party. It was so boring with all the flowers and scented candles, thought they would enjoy some good old-fashioned chaos. Dr. Iszth: And you definitely weren't attempting to ruin the festival at all, right? [SCP-7454 leans forward over the desk] SCP-7454: Listen, fucknut, the festival was technically MY festival. If they didn't want the literal body that they worship so fucking hard to show up, why on Earth would they even bother setting the damn thing up? They have all these fucking marble statues and pretty dresses wishing for love and beauty, but when a literal god of love shows up and whips their [REDACTED] out it's suddenly heretical? How fucking ignorant can you be? Dr. Iszth: SC- Subject, please try to calm down. We're just trying to understand who and what you are. We don't want any more incidents to occur. SCP-7454: Oh I'm sorry, it's not like you already told me who I was at the start of this fucking interview, huh? Dr. Iszth: Right, so you claim to be the Greek Goddess of Love, Aphrodite, correct? SCP-7454: Call me that again. See what happens. Dr. Iszth: But that's what you claimed, didn't you? You claimed you were the one they set up the festival for, that would be Aphrodite, am I right? SCP-7454: Stop. It. Dr. Iszth: Why? Do you really hate the name 'Aphrodite' that much? [SCP-7454 lunges across the desk towards Dr. Iszth who manages to back away as armed guards enter the room to subdue SCP-7454. Dozens of large beetles3 crawl out from inside Dr. Iszth's coat which they promptly remove. These beetles were later captured and determined to be non-anomalous, albeit abnormally large. They are believed to originate from SCP-7454.] [END LOG] In light of the previous incidents, SCP-7454 was moved to a more permanent containment chamber fitted with two stationary Scranton Reality Anchors to prevent the effects of SCP-7454's abilities. After three days in containment with no further incidents, SCP-7454 was asked to conduct another interview with Dr. Iszth. SCP-7454 had seemingly calmed down after the outburst and agreed. Interview SCP-7454-2 Date: 26/07/2021 Interviewer: Dr. Iszth Subject: SCP-7454 Notes: Despite the previous incident and the dangers present, it would appear that SCP-7454 was unable to overpower the combined effects of two concurrent SRAs. In light of this, Dr. Iszth was allowed to continue interviews with armed supervision. Dr. Iszth: This is Dr. Iszth, conducting a follow-up interview with SCP-7454. SCP-7454 has agreed to be referred to as 'Subject', and will be referred to as such for the rest of this interview. So, Subject, feel better after your little tantrum? SCP-7454: Watch it, or I'll make them centipedes next time. Dr. Iszth: Oh? It was my understanding that you were struggling to overcome our countermeasures. Is that not true? SCP-7454: Whatever the fuck you've done to me, it can't last forever. It's giving me a splitting headache and I feel like shit, but I swear I'll turn your skin inside out as soon as it wears off. Dr. Iszth: We'll have to see, then, won't we? [Both SCP-7454 and Dr. Iszth are silent for two minutes.] Dr. Iszth: Alright look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I am simply here to gain a clear understanding of the situation, but if you continue to react negatively to me asking questions about your past, then these interviews are going to take forever. [SCP-7454 lets out a deep sigh and hangs its head.] SCP-7454: Fine… ask your questions. Dr. Iszth: Right. So firstly, are you the Greek Goddess Aphrodite? [SCP-7454 visibly recoils] SCP-7454: What do you think? Dr. Iszth: Okay, why were you at the festival in A████? SCP-7454: I was there because I wanted to mess with those idiots for worshipping something so stupid. Dr. Iszth: They were there to worship you though, weren't they? SCP-7454: They were there to worship a two-thousand-year-old image of a pretty lady with her fucking tits out, hoping she would help them bang their cousins or whatever it is rural towns in this country do. Dr. Iszth: So you don't agree with this portrayal? SCP-7454: I tried to move on hundreds of years ago, tried to escape the idea that I was supposed to be this marble statue of perfection that my family had perpetuated throughout the centuries. Dr. Iszth: Family? Do you mean the other gods? SCP-7454: They were all so fucking hung up on the fact that if tried to be different to the image they had built up, it would ruin their perfect little world. They kept saying to me "why would you want to be this lowly man when you're the most beautiful woman on Earth?". Even my own son told me I should be proud and grateful to be who I was, as I was 'the Goddess of motherhood'. Spoilt little shit has mommy issues… you know I wasn't even allowed to wear clothes back then? Because my body was 'so beautiful' my family and worshippers expected me to be nude all the time, just so they could bask in the presence of the perfect woman. Dr. Iszth: So you decided to leave and change yourself to fit a new image closer to who you wanted to be, and yet the world still saw you as this goddess of feminine beauty. Your followers refused to accept the fact that the body they worship was transgender and instead chose to ignore your preferred gender identity in favour of this image. SCP-7454: Transgender? Gender identity? What the fuck are you talking about? Dr. Iszth: You mean you don't-? I expected you of all people would know what transgender means. Well, in any case, have you tried to change your family's point of view? SCP-7454: Tried? Dude, I pretty much waged war on the idea for decades. I burned temples, started new cults, even got rid of that stupid library just to try and start fresh. Dr. Iszth: Library? Wait- SCP-7454: I spent so long trying to force change on these droves of believers that my own family had to intervene to try and stop an upheaval of their entire established religion, smiting anyone who actually cared. My son even doubled down on the idea, creating more and more new faiths across the world that all worship this beautiful and/or motherly figure of love or whatever because the boy has such deep-seated issues he'd rather make a thousand more imitations of his 'mother dearest' before fucking listening to me. Dr. Iszth: Your son- SCP-7454: Venus, Hathor, Mary, Freyja, he made or adopted so many that no matter what I tried there was still swathes of people out there worshipping at least some image of me so that it would be impossible to to change even the slightest amount of the status quo. There would always be a 'sex goddess' always a 'mother deity' always a 'symbol of beauty' and it was always. Connected. To me. Dr. Iszth: I-… Mary? [SCP-7454 slams its fist on the desk before continuing.] SCP-7454: Do you know how hard it is to have millions of people worship you so intensely that they end up ignoring you? Or worse, treat the person they worship as heretical? Burning down anything they don't like? That they don't believe? That they can't believe? No one listens. No one cares. No one ever fucking… just… [SCP-7454 begins to cry before grabbing at its hair and laying its head on the desk. Both Dr. Iszth and SCP-7454 are silent for three minutes.] Dr. Iszth: I think we should end this here for today, don't you agree, Subject? [SCP-7454 does not respond.] Dr. Iszth: Alright, this is Dr. Iszth concluding the second interview with SCP-7454. [END LOG] Due to the continued hostility of SCP-7454, its containment chamber was kept under the constant effects of the SRAs. Due to the latent issues inherent in utilising this technology for extended periods, it is suggested that a more permanent solution be pursued as soon as possible. Continued interviews are to be conducted with the eventual goal of simpler containment methods. Interview SCP-7454-3 Date: 28/07/2021 Interviewer: Dr. Iszth Subject: SCP-7454 Notes: SCP-7454 had not shown any ability to overcome the implemented containment procedures even when enraged. As such, Dr. Iszth was allowed to continue with the interviewing process with less supervision, although an armed presence was still recommended. [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Iszth: This is Dr. Iszth, performing a third interview with SCP-7454. How are you feeling today SCP- sorry, Subject. SCP-7454: Terrible. Dr. Iszth: Care to elaborate? SCP-7454: Fucking terrible. Dr. Iszth: Uh huh… and why is that? SCP-7454: My head has been killing me for days. I stand up and I'm so dizzy I just fall over. I can't move, I can't think, I can't do anything. Whatever you did to me, it's just getting worse. Dr. Iszth: I see… so the effects of the SRAs seem to be taking a toll on you physically. SCP-7454: SRAs? Dr. Iszth: Never mind. Let's see if we can come to some kind of agreement that benefits us both, yes? If you cooperate with me today and in future, then perhaps we can update your protocols so the effect is lessened or maybe even removed. SCP-7454: Fine. Dr. Iszth: Alright, so, we've established who you are and where you came from, but I want to hear more about your family. SCP-7454: What about them? Dr. Iszth: If I'm correct, your family is just as powerful as you, if not more so. This makes them highly dangerous anomalies that we cannot allow to run amok. Do you know where they might be located currently? SCP-7454: No clue. Dr. Iszth: Okay, do you know what they're capable of? SCP-7454: Pretty much anything. Dr. Iszth: Sure, and how many of them are there? SCP-7454: Too many to count. Dr. Iszth: You said you would cooperate, Subject. I can't do anything for you if you don't give me something. SCP-7454: What do you want from me? I haven't seem them in hundreds of years. They could be anywhere doing anything and have probably sired hundreds or thousands more children. It's not like we're on close terms anymore, I don't keep track of them. [SCP-7454 places its head in its hands and groans.] SCP-7454: Listen, can you just… stop doing whatever it is you're doing to me. Dr. Iszth: I can't do that. Your abilities are dangerous and if we were to deactivate the SRAs you could potentially escape and cause more problems. If you cooperate, we might be able to help, but like I said we need more. SCP-7454: I don't have anything to give you! Please it… it just.. hurts so fucking much. Dr. Iszth: I'm… sorry, Subject, but we can't- [SCP-7454 collapses out its chair and onto the floor. Blood is pouring from its nose and it appears unresponsive.] Dr. Iszth: Subject? Subject, can you hear me? Aphrodite? Shit, get medical in here now! [END LOG] After SCP-7454 collapsed, medical teams were rushed to the containment chamber in order to administer emergency medical care. Dr. Iszth instructed staff to immediately deactivate the SRAs containing SCP-7454 against procedure. After the SRAs were deactivated, SCP-7454 remained in a comatose state for roughly one week before awakening. Upon awakening, Dr. Iszth was immediately contacted to perform an interview. Interview SCP-7454-4 Date: 4/08/2021 Interviewer: Dr. Iszth Subject: SCP-7454 Notes: SCP-7454 had been receiving medical care within its containment cell when it awoke. Dr. Iszth was contacted and immediately moved to conduct an interview with SCP-7454 under heavy supervision of armed guards. [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Iszth: Hello, Subject. Are you feeling any better? SCP-7454: A bit. What's with the army? Dr. Iszth: They're here in case you decide to do anything rash. We have deactivated the SRAs temporarily to help you recover, but if you attempt to use your abilities in any way they will be reactivated, understand? SCP-7454: Yeah, I get it. Cooperate or suffer. You sound like my family. Dr. Iszth: Subject, listen, we might be the big scary government organisation here but we're not out to make your life a living hell. Our goal is to simply secure, contain, and protect the anomalous in order to preserve the world from chaos. Right now, you are cooperating with us so we don't need to activate the SRAs. If you continue to do this then we can keep them offline. SCP-7454: And what do I have to do to stop you from nearly killing me? Dr. Iszth: Cooperate, it's that simple. Don't use your abilities without authorisation and stay within the confines of the facility. SCP-7454: Is that it? Dr. Iszth: That's it. SCP-7454: Fine. Just please, keep those seizure machines off. Dr. Iszth: Very well. I will update your containment procedures to reflect this new agreement. Remember this is contingent on you not utilising your abilities. SCP-7454: I get it. Dr. Iszth: Excellent. Once you've recovered we'll schedule more interviews. [Dr. Iszth stands and moves to leave] SCP-7454: Iszth. [Dr. Iszth stops and turns to SCP-7454] Dr. Iszth: Yes? SCP-7454: You said a while back that I was 'Transgender'. What does that mean? Dr. Iszth: Oh, well, it means you identify as a different gender to the one you were assigned at birth. It's a fairly common occurrence among the population. Nowadays the world has a lot deeper understanding of transgenderism and gender identity. SCP-7454: Gender identity? Dr. Iszth: Yes, it's the gender you feel you are as a person, rather than the one you physically appear as or are treated as. Although those aren't mutually exclusive, of course. [SCP-7454 remains silent] Dr. Iszth: Is there anything else, Subject? SCP-7454: No. I think… I just want to rest. Dr. Iszth: Very well, I'll conclude this interview. [END LOG] After the previous interview concluded, SCP-7454 remained cooperative with Foundation personnel even without utilising SRAs to inhibit its abilities. Following the discussion with Dr. Iszth, SCP-7454 asked for materials pertaining to transgenderism and gender identity; in light of its good behaviour, this was summarily granted. After three days in recovery, SCP-7454 requested another interview with Dr. Iszth, which was granted. Interview SCP-7454-5 Date: 07/08/2021 Interviewer: Dr. Iszth Subject: SCP-7454 Notes: SCP-7454 has requested this interview and has been cooperating with Foundation staff more readily after the last interview. It is recommended that mutual cooperation should remain the goal in light of the SRAs' effects on SCP-7454 and the inherent complications of long-term usage. Dr. Iszth: This is Dr. Iszth participating in a requested interview by SCP-7454. SCP-7454 will be referred to as 'Subject' for the entirety of this interview. Hi Subject, how are we feeling today? SCP-7454: I'm not sure. Dr. Iszth: You're not sure? Why is that? SCP-7454: I just spent the last few days on the books and videos I was given and to be honest, I don't know how I'm supposed to feel or who I'm supposed to be anymore. Dr. Iszth: Did the materials provided help in any way? SCP-7454: They did but… Listen, Iszth- Dr. Iszth: You can call me Riley. SCP-7454: Right, Riley. You told me I might be transgender and that it was pretty common among people, right? Well, in those videos there were just tons of people, ordinary people that have been going through all this and it's the exact same thing I've been dealing with for hundreds of years now and I… I think maybe… you were right. Dr. Iszth: Oh, that's really good to hear, Subject. I'm happy for you. SCP-7454: Yeah, but… It still doesn't change the fact that those imbeciles out there still worship the idea of this ideal and perfect woman, while no one will listen to a word I fucking say. Dr. Iszth: Well, in your case I imagine it's even more likely to cause distress considering the literal state of worship, but can I suggest something? SCP-7454: May as well. Dr. Iszth: Why don't you instead leave it behind? Abandon the idea and identity of her completely and make a new one for yourself? SCP-7454: A new identity? Just like… start over? After it's been so long it'd be so… hard. I mean, you've been asking so much about my past and my family, how am I supposed to move on when part of the deal is that I keep revisiting it all? Like, where am I even supposed to begin? Dr. Iszth: How about a name? SCP-7454: A name? Dr. Iszth: Yes. Think about a name that fits you better than your dead name, and introduce yourself as that. Hardly anyone actually 'knows' you as a person other than your family, so if you begin to build a life as yourself instead trying to change the world's views, then perhaps you can live a life you want to instead of being trapped by this old and outdated image. [SCP-7454 remains silent.] Dr. Iszth: Listen, as I've said before we might be the government agency type, but we're not so cold and foolish as to make our jobs harder and cause you undue suffering over something so trivial as a name. If you continue to cooperate with us like you have been, we may be able to provide the support you need to begin transitioning. [SCP-7454 remains silent] Dr. Iszth: Subject? [SCP-7454 lays its head on its arms and begins to cry. Dr. Iszth breaks protocol and moves to the other side of the desk to speak with SCP-7454; they are later reprimanded for this action.] Dr. Iszth: Look, we here at the Foundation have access to a wide variety of specialists in every field. Say the word, and provided you continue to cooperate with us and our goals, I can provide you with regular meetings with a Gender Specialist who can help you transition properly. [SCP-7454 continues to cry and lifts its head up to look at Dr. Iszth.] Dr. Iszth: Would you like me to make the call? [SCP-7454 wipes the tears from its face and nods in agreement.] Dr. Iszth: Alright. [Dr. Iszth smiles at SCP-7454, and moves back to the other side of the desk.] Dr. Iszth: I'll arrange for you to see a regular specialist and update your procedures so that no mention of Aphrodite will be made in reference to you or around you. The SRAs will remain disabled and you will be given limited freedom around the facility so long as you do not manifest your abilities, understood? [SCP-7454 nods in agreement.] Dr. Iszth: Perfect. I am glad you called for this interview today, Subject. Hopefully we can continue working together going forward. SCP-7454: Isaac. Dr. Iszth: Pardon? SCP-7454: My name. It's Isaac. [Dr. Iszth smiles again before moving to leave] Dr. Iszth: It was nice speaking with you, Isaac. I'll see you when we organise a time for another Interview. SCP-7454: Thank you, Riley. [END LOG] Following the interviews, SCP-7454 was scheduled for regular meetings with both Dr. Iszth and Dr. Hannigan, an experienced Gender Specialist hired by the Foundation. No further major incidents involving SCP-7454's reality-bending abilities have been recorded, and Dr. Hannigan reports SCP-7454 has made steady progress in its treatment. Footnotes 1. A celebration focused on Aphrodite, celebrating all aspects of the Goddess with an entire month of festivities. 2. These individuals were later freed and were apparently able to breathe despite being fully encased. 3. Later identified as Lygaeus saxatilis or 'Cretan Soldier Beetles'. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7454" by Iszth, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7454. 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-7455 | esoteric-class | close Info X SCP-7455: Silent Colonies by AnActualCrow & JakdragonX ⚠️ Content warning: Self-harm. ⚠️ content warning From: Jason Ridely ([email protected]) To: Charles Wadeson ([email protected]) CC: SCP-7455 Research Team ([email protected]); Subject: RE:RE:RE: Database Alarm/Documentation Update (IMPORTANT!) Hello Team, As mentioned in our earlier discussions, an automated alarm has been activated due to several incomplete SCP-7455 drafts in our database. Timestamps indicate that this slot hasn't been touched in months, despite Overwatch being told otherwise. Superiors have escalated this as an immediate priority as we are unable to de-activate the database alarm without these files. Please have a member attach all available documentation to this email as soon as possible. Thank you in advance. NOTE: Per standard protocol, please also add an appropriate voice memo of confirmation to a new email and forward it to this chain. scp_7455.zip (Unzipped) This file should be available to staff members level 3 or below who are unaffiliated with Provisional Site-188. Do not include this note when providing SCP-7455-related documentation. SCP-7455 ██ █ ████ ██ █████████ ███ █████ ██ █████, ██████ █████ ███████ abnormal parasitic behavior. A colony of SCP-7455 ███████ ██████ ██ █████████ ███████ ███ ██████████ █████ ██ ███ ████ ███ entering the skull (███████ ██ █████, ████ █████████ █████ █████ ██ ████████). Once inside the skull, ████████ █████ ████ ████████ ████ ███ █████ █████ ██████ █████ ██ ███ ████ ████████ █████████. ████ ████████ ███ ████ ████ ███████████ ██████, ███ still allows automatic functions such as breathing and consciousness. ████ ████ ███████ ████████ █████ ███████, █████ ████████ ████ ██ █████ ████ ███ ██████ ███████████ ██████. ███ ███████████ ██████ allows access to the spinal cord, █████ ██ ██████████ ██ ███████ ██████ ██ ███████ ███ ██████ ████████. ██ ████ █████, the host has been fully infected, and is reclassified as an instance of SCP-7455-1. SCP-7455-1 instances ████ ███████ ██ ███████ ███ ██████ █████ ███████, blend into human society, and discreetly infect others. █████ ██████████ █████████ ███ ███████ ██ ██████████ ████ █████ █████████, ████ ███ incapable of replicating complex motor functions. █████ ███████ (███ ███ ███ ███████ ██) speaking, writing by hand, and operating motor vehicles. ███████ █████ ███████████, ██████████ █████████ ███ still able to understand ████████ ███ ████ on keyboards. < 20:49 > Researcher Doyle is present at her workstation. She swallows a pill with some coffee. < 01:04 > Researcher Doyle is asleep at her workstation. < 01:19 > Researcher Doyle wakes up. She rubs her nose with considerable effort. Camera footage is unable to determine if there is blood on her finger. < 01:20 > Doyle forcefully opens a desk drawer and begins searching through its contents. < 01:22 > After throwing the majority of the drawer's contents to the ground, Doyle retrieves a metal key. She is unable to hold the key between her fingers, accidentally dropping it into the drawer and onto the floor several times. Doyle puts the key in her palm and balls her hand into a fist. She appears to yell. < 01: 23 > Doyle gets out of her chair, placing her hand on the desk to support herself. She shuffles into the hallway with considerable effort. Yelling continues. Doyle begins to move towards the wall-mounted alarm system at the other end of the hallway, leaning against the wall for support. < 01:25 > Doyle loses her balance and falls onto the linoleum floor, dropping the key. It comes to a stop at the center of the hallway. Doyle appears to momentarily pause and yell. She crawls along her belly and retrieves the key before crawling back to the wall. < 01:26 > Doyle reaches the alarm system. A button is encased in clear plastic, which can be removed using her key. She holds the key with both hands, propping herself against the wall with her head and left shoulder. With great difficulty, she attempts to insert the key into the keyhole. Due to hair falling over her face, camera footage is unable to determine if she is sobbing. < 01:27 > The key is partially inserted into the lock. Researcher Doyle is no longer yelling. Researcher Doyle has stopped moving. < 01:35 > Researcher Doyle's left shoulder twitches. < 01:41 - 01:49 > Starting from the head and continuing down the body, several muscles tense and release in succession. Doyle does not lose balance. < 01:49 > Doyle steps back from the wall, maintaining her balance. Her body language no longer appears distressed. She retrieves the key from the lock, returning to and reorganizing her workstation. < 01:50 > Doyle returns to work, occasionally pausing to wipe tears off of her keyboard. Her eyes briefly glance towards an ant crawling along her monitor. < 01:58 > Doyle clocks out and exits Provisional Site-188. Afterword: Doyle's whereabouts following this event are unknown. MRI scan of a deceased SCP-7455-1 instance. Separately quarantining civilians at Provisional Site-188 has become unsustainable. To help preserve space, civilians who have been quarantined for over 3 days and exhibit no symptoms of SCP-7455 infection are to be quarantined together. Hover to enlarge. Michael Crooner, an SCP-7455-1 instance, has been frozen alive at Provisional Site-188 for further research. Crooner was identified as an SCP-7455-1 instance after he was arrested for entering a hospital while holding a bloody paring knife in his right hand. While the reason ████████ guided Crooner to the hospital is unknown, it was likely to treat the multiple lateral cuts which had removed almost all of the skin on his left arm. These cuts exposed 160 ████████ ████, which ████ █████ Crooner's blood vessels to █████ ████ ███ out of open wounds. Michael Crooner's health records do not indicate a history of self-harm prior to this incident. However, they do state that Crooner is a diagnosed insomniac. Persons in or near Valdez, Alaska who become suddenly and unexpectedly mute are to be considered SCP-7455-1 instances and immediately terminated via fumigation. Persons in or near Valdez who suddenly experience formication1 will inevitably become SCP-7455-1 instances, and are to be terminated via fumigation. Corpses of persons who exhibited either of the above symptoms prior to death are to be fumigated. Persons sleeping in the same household as a fumigated person/corpse are to be separately quarantined in Provisional Site-188 until further notice. Due to Valdez's small and isolated population, Foundation monitoring of Richardson Highway and Port Valdez has been effective in controlling travel in and out of the township thus far. However, this is subject to change over time as Valdez's population increases and its city limit continues to expand. Foundation personnel are additionally reminded that SCP-7455 is of no significant threat to Provisional Site-188's current status. Several carpenter ants were found within Provisional Site-188 after two consecutive days of heavy rain. It is unknown whether this was coincidental or related to SCP-7455. Attempts to seal Provisional Site-188 are still ongoing. Foundation monitoring of local stores has also detected a dramatic increase in insecticide purchasing. Automated Foundation security systems have flagged [email protected] for suspicious activity. As per standard protocol, the account has been temporarily suspended. Please manually review its most recent sent messages, determine whether the account has been hacked or otherwise compromised, and report your findings to the Foundation Digital Securities Office. The sooner you complete this, the quicker security breaches can be detected. From: Perri Doyle(pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p#pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p) To: Susanne Nguyen(pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s#pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s) Subject: Call Tonight I'm really sorry, but I won't be able to call tonight. I've really been swamped with work. I can't tell you the details, but things have been getting a little scary. The team's been doing everything we can, but it's starting to feel like we're going to need an extraction team to pick us up. Sorry, I'm scaring you. Things are going to be fine. I'm hoping I'll be able to call tomorrow. Love, Perri From: Perri Doyle(pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p#pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p) To: Susanne Nguyen(pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s#pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s) Subject: Call Tonight I'm still not getting the best sleep, but being able to talk to you every night has really helped calm my nerves. I should be able to call again tonight. Same time as usual :) Love, Perri From: Perri Doyle(pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p#pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p) To: Susanne Nguyen(pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s#pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s) Subject: Call Tonight Hoping to hear some good news from you tonight. I could really use it right now. Then again, I guess being able to call you is already good news. Talk to you soon! Love, Perri From: Perri Doyle(pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p#pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p) To: Susanne Nguyen(pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s#pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s) Subject: (No subject) I. From: Perri Doyle(pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p#pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p) To: Susanne Nguyen(pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s#pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s) Subject: Call Tonight Love , Perri From: Perri Doyle(pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p#pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p) To: Susanne Nguyen(pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s#pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s) Subject: Call Tonight I'm really sorry, but I won't be able to call tonight. I've really been swamped with work. Things are going to be fine. I'm hoping I'll be able to call tomorrow. Love, Perri From: Perri Doyle(pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p#pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p) To: Susanne Nguyen(pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s#pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s) Subject: Call Tonight I'm really sorry, but I won't be able to call tonight. I've really been swamped with work. Things are going to be fine. I'm hoping I'll be able to call tomorrow. Love, Perri From: Perri Doyle(pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p#pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p) To: Susanne Nguyen(pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s#pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s) Subject: Call Tonight I'm really sorry, but I won't be able to call tonight. I've really been swamped with work. Things are going to be fine. I'm hoping I'll be able to call tomorrow. Love, Perri From: Perri Doyle(pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p#pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p) To: Susanne Nguyen(pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s#pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s) Subject: Call Tonight I'm really sorry, but I won't be able to call tonight. I've really been swamped with work. Things are going to be fine. I'm hoping I'll be able to call tomorrow. Love, Perri From: Perri Doyle(pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p#pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p) To: Susanne Nguyen(pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s#pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s) Subject: Call Tonight I'm really sorry, but I won't be able to call tonight. I've really been swamped with work. Things are going to be fine. I'm hoping I'll be able to call tomorrow. Love, Perri From: Perri Doyle(pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p#pcs.881-etisp|elyod.p) To: Susanne Nguyen(pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s#pcs.91-etis|neyugm.s) Subject: Call Tonight I'm really sorry, but I won't be able to call tonight. I've really been swamped with work. Things are going to be fine. I'm hoping I'll be able to call tomorrow. Love, Perri [Account was automatically suspended following this message. Since this point, 28 identical emails have been drafted.] VERDICT ☐ Compromised ☐ Uncompromised UPDATE: Due to new security protocols, personnel reviewing this incident are required to submit a voice memo with their verdict. Note: Prior to Provisional Site-188's establishment, Foundation officials were made aware of an incident regarding Amanda Anderson after a report was made by her husband, Ray. While the initial incident was handled by local authorities, the following camera footage was provided to Foundation officials several months afterward. [21:29 - BEGIN LOG] [SOURCE: Briarwood Apartments official security system] Camera perspective overlooks Hallway 1B. Ray Anderson arrives upwards from the hallway's sole staircase. He is holding a bouquet of mixed flowers in both hands. After nearly a minute, Anderson turns left from Hallway 1B and into Hallway 1E. Camera perspective changes to view another corner of the complex. Anderson stops after turning the corner to recuperate and breathe. He is visibly distressed, wiping sweat from his brow before continuing through the hallway. Anderson stops midway through Hallway 3E as Door 113 opens. An older woman steps out carrying food items and additional assortments. They converse briefly before Anderson disengages conversation. He rubs his left shoulder as the two leave. Anderson takes another left turn and continues walking. [SOURCE: Private home security devices belonging to Amanda Anderson] Camera perspective changes once more to Door 119’s home security doorbell camera. Anderson stands directly in front of the doorbell. He stares at the camera momentarily before ringing. Nobody comes to greet Anderson. He presses the button again. Anderson paces at the door. He waits for several minutes before checking his nearby vicinity. After confirming that he is alone, Anderson turns the doorknob. The door is unlocked. Camera feed changes to view the dark interior of Apartment 119 via home security devices. Anderson quietly makes his way inside from the front door, touching along the left wall to presumably locate a nearby light switch. He is successful, activating a ceiling fan light hanging above the living room, which is noticeably clean. Anderson speaks to determine if anyone is inside the residence, but nobody comes. After searching the Living Room and nearby Dining Room, he crosses an opening to access the kitchen. Anderson notices a line of ants spanning the tile floor and some used medical equipment. Anderson then searches the kitchen and locates nothing of interest. He places the bouquet on a nearby countertop and exits to the hallway. Anderson walks towards a closed door along the hallway. He knocks, announcing himself, before entering the room. The camera perspective changes again to view the interior of a bedroom. Anderson enters the bedroom to see a corpse laying atop a black mound on the bed. Several opened pill bottles containing a mix of over-the-counter medications and prescribed heart medication are also present. Miscellaneous wiring and other equipment is connecting to the corpse, feeding into a monitor display reading “ERROR!” The black amalgamation underneath the corpse shifts. Anderson yells. It squirms. Black ants can be seen exiting the corpse from its mouth, tear ducts, ears, and crotch, crawling along medical equipment and the bed frame. Several ants are carrying eggs or larvae. Anderson runs out of the room. The corpse’s skin and muscles begins to deflate and deform. Ants continue escaping from open orifices, occasionally tunneling out open veins and rupturing the skin from the inside. The bugs disperse into open crevices along the floor and walls as authorities arrive on-scene. [22:04 - END LOG] Afterword: Local and Foundation authorities would later locate Amanda Anderson, age 45, deceased in her bedroom. Cause of death was determined to be sudden heart failure, which occurred before Ray Anderson’s arrival. Foundation personnel were not aware of SCP-7455’s existence prior to this recording. From: Charles Wadeson (pcs.881-etisp|nosedaw.c#pcs.881-etisp|nosedaw.c) To: Jason Ridely (pcs.hctawrevo50|yledir.j#pcs.hctawrevo50|yledir.j) CC: SCP-7455 Research Team (pcs.881-etisp|5547#pcs.881-etisp|5547); Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE: Database Alarm/Documentation Update (IMPORTANT!) Hello. Sorry for not replying. Everyone else is still trying to sleep. All documents have been attached to this email. Thank you for your patience. Attachment(s): 📎 scp-7455.zip (1) Send? Reply! (1) From: Jason Ridely (pcs.hctawrevo50|yledir.j#pcs.hctawrevo50|yledir.j) To: Charles Wadeson (pcs.881-etisp|nosedaw.c#pcs.881-etisp|nosedaw.c) CC: SCP-7455 Research Team (pcs.881-etisp|5547#pcs.881-etisp|5547); Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:RE: Database Alarm/Documentation Update (IMPORTANT!) Thank you for your message. We are now able to clear the database alarm. We appreciate your assistance on the matter. However, you also never sent us that requested voice memo. Are we to assume that this was intentional? You Might Also Like... Feel free to add this collapsible to your own articles! SCP-4773 — and a stuffed bear, by MaliceAforethought and Henzoid ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7455" by AnActualCrow & JakdragonX, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7455. 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: brainscan.png Name: FMRI Brain Scan Author: DrOONeil License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Additional Notes: Image was edited by AnActualCrow Filename: transcript-real.png Author: JakdragonX License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP-7455 Footnotes 1. A feeling that insects are crawling underneath one's skin. |
SCP-7457 | safe | close Info X More by this author Item#: 7457 Level2 Containment Class: safe Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: warning link to memo SCP-7457, partially redacted to prevent its effects. Special Containment Procedures: The cave system hosting SCP-7457 has been converted into Foundation Outpost 7457, with free cave chambers being used for storage and personnel habitat. To prevent civilians from entering, a cover story has been spread, claiming that the cave system is home to fragile relics and that only select researchers are allowed to enter. Security personnel are allowed to use non-lethal force to repel potential trespassers. Entry into the chamber hosting SCP-7457 is reserved only to members of the Anthropology and Memetics department. A CRV of 10 or above and proper innoculations or protective gear are required before viewing SCP-7457. Personel affected by the anomaly are to be sedated and administered with amnestics. Description: SCP-7457 is a collection of wall paintings created by a tribe of Homo neanderthalensis in the department of Dordogne, France. Analysis reveals that SCP-7457 is around 30,000 years old and was added to over several generations, from the tribe's arrival to their eventual demise. Every individual painting within SCP-7457 is imbued with an associated memetic effect, presumed to have had a postitive influence over the tribe. However, due to its creators' brain structure being different from that of a modern human, and the damages inflicted to the paintings by time, SCP-7457 instead has various random and often harmful effects on those viewing it. Those effects include: Sudden catatonia for any length of time. Forgetting the identities of one's children. Aversion to sunlight. Aversion to moonlight. Aversion to flashlights. Visions of being pursued by spicy foodstuffs. Gaining complete knowledge of how to orient oneself using the stars, consistent with their positions 30,000 years ago. This replaces a random amount of memories. Immediate shattering of all bones. Visceral hatred of human hands and feet. Accelerated calories consumption. This can be reversed by not drinking water for a full 19 hours. Smelling like raw fish. This is permanent. Playfulness and whimsy. Increased aggressivity. Bears. Extreme bouts of paranoia. Flaring pain in all cranial nerves. Agoraphobia. The irresistible urge to ritually sacrifice stand-up comedians.1 Each individual memetic effect has been theorised to be part of a larger meme complex that the tribe added to or expanded over time. While its existence remains theoritical, is has been tentatively designed SCP-7457-1. + Insert Anthropology Department credentials - close Dr Laroche's research Don't forget to add to main file Day One Today, Vamer showed me the draft for the general clearance version of the file. I told him it left a lot out, but he argued the only people who needed to know more would learn it all once I start adding my logs to the locked version. So if you're from the Anthropology Department2 here's where I'll record everything we learn about SCP-7457. Day Two The cave system we found SCP-7457 in is big. Very big. We've identified several chambers, all with a purpose. There's sleeping quarters (where we pitched our own tents), storage rooms, and even one that appears to have been dedicated to practicing medicine, judging by the tables and crude tools. It's where we're keeping the field agents who discovered SCP-7457 first. Those who survived, anyway. Another one of the rooms serves as a mass grave, filled with bodies of both Homo neanderthalensis and Homo sapiens. Most of them died from blunt force trauma. Just another case of one tribe wiping another out. It is weird that the Homo sapiens tribe took the time to bury the bodies, but didn't settle in the cave. Maybe SCP-7457 has something to do with that. Moreau isn't letting anyone inside SCP-7457's chamber until his team comes up with a way to protect us from its effects. Since Vamer was brought in because of his specialisation in ancient arts, he's pretty much just twiddling his thumbs for now. Me though, I already have plenty to work on. Day Four SCP-7457 wasn't the only anomaly we found in that cave. None are as noteworthy though: a stone rod that makes fire when you strike it against wood, a bone knife that can't cut through other bones, a wool pelt that doesn't seem to degrade over time or get dirty… They'll probably all go on the AO list. Day Nine Moreau finally whipped up something that'll let us work on SCP-7457 itself. Those goggles he made filter out any and all memetic effects, and we'll be able to adjust those filters to allow individual ones to come through. For now, when looking at the walls, all we see are black squares upon black squares. But the chamber itself already holds a lot of information. It's much, much bigger than all the other rooms. We think it served as a communal area and mess hall. Clearly, SCP-7457 held a great importance to these people. Day Twelve Today we took a direct, unfiltered look at some of the paintings. I blacked out for 13 hours and when I woke up, one of the field agents had been reduced into a distorted broken mess, and one of Moreau's men smelled like fish. I'll have to ask regional command if they can spare us some Ds. Day Seventeen Progress has been slow and steady. Moreau is cataloguing all the effects we come across, hoping to find some pattern while his team roll out innoculations for the ones that have been tested. Vamer is studying some of the "safe" paintings to find out what tools and materials were used to make them. I found an altar near the middle of the room (we couldn't see it before we cleared out one of the paintings, it was obscured by the filter). No signs of Akiva radiations or their residues. If these people didn't worship SCP-7457, maybe it was just a place to gather? Day Nineteen Vamer and his team sucessfully restored one of the paintings today. Before, it used to switch people's perception of what was edible and what wasn't for 63 hours. Now, it makes people smell through their mouth for 41 hours. This proves that the damages done had an impact on the effects, but that due to SCP-7457's makers being Nehanderthals, the effects are still twisted for modern humans. Unless Nehanderthals actively wanted to smell through their mouths. Times were weird back then. Day Twenty-Three With more paintings restored, Moreau insists that there's a pattern. According to him, all the individual paintings are components of a bigger whole, their memes weaving and merging into a unified core complex. We've designated this hypothetical core SCP-7457-1, but we won't be able to confirm that it actually exists until we've catalogued all its components. While Moreau busies himself with his -1 theory, Vamer and I have been studying the paintings themselves, not their effects. They seem to mostly fall into three categories: warnings3, instructions4, and scenes of people enjoying life. There are a few stranger ones that Vamer thinks were made for comedy, references to in-jokes we'll never get. Day Twenty-Eight Vamer… Vamer is getting transferred to that Site in Middle-Normandy. A low-activity assignment to let him recover from what happened. Moreau is going to increase the security checks for any personel leaving the Outpost. It stings, losing such a large part of our staff, but we must keep going. Day Thirty-Six It cost us 5 more D-Class and one more researcher, but we have finally catalogued every painting and their effects. And yet, we are no closer to understanding SCP-7457-1. Moreau has shown me his research and I agree that it should exist, but it seems we need more time to figure out what it is. I'll have to let Moreau's team work on it alone while I return to the main Site. I need to visit Medical about my newly-developed heterochromia and Mathematical to deliver those bear corpses. Day Fourty-Four SCP-7457-1 has no relations to the colors or categories of the paintings. The most productive thing I have done all week was trimming down the Description's list of effect. Day Fifty-Two Progess! I decided to look back over everything we've gathered so far and found something that we had missed. The corpses in the burial room did not actually all die at the same time. While the majority of them, including the ones bearing battle injuries died around the same time, some of the corpses died later, spread across a few decades. Those later corpses are all Homo sapiens, suggesting that their tribe did in fact settle in these caves, but left after some time. This is a lead! Day Fifty-Five We followed the lead and found the Homo sapiens tribe. They had a pretty big settlement some kilometers away, where they thrived for a few generations before migrating further away. And in one of their ruins, we found several copies of the same painting. It got filtered by the goggles when I put them on so we know it's memetic too. We'll call the first ones SCP-7457-A and this one SCP-7457-B. Day Fifty-Six -B sounded so promising. According to Moreau's analysis, it's a condensed form of -1, adapted by Homo sapiens without any individual effects on top. And from what I've gathered from the site, it was also very important to the people who lived there. And yet it does nothing. I've had a new D-Class brought in, one without prior exposure to -A. Had her sit and stare at those paintings for hours and she didn't feel anything. Even though -B has no visible damage and was made by the right species. Are we doing something wrong? Day Sixty Moreau's gone paranoid. He believes -1 is a slow-acting and undetectable effect, like the one that got Vamer. He has taken his team back to the Site and shut himself off in one of the E-Class holding cells. Says he doesn't want to be a risk to anyone else. I could study all the ruins and remains I can find, but without an expert in memetics, I'm no closer to understanding -1. Maybe it's time I called in some outside help. To: Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 From: Eva Laroche, Project head, Outpost 7457 Subject: Need your help with memetic anomaly Hello. I'm working on an anomaly in France, and we know it's memetic but we don't know what it does. My colleague who knows how this stuff works locked himself in a cell and I've exhausted all other leads, so I could really use some help getting to the bottom of this. I hear you're kind of an expert, can you take a look? I've attached a text copy of the full file, a picture (with filters) of the clearest vector we could find, as well as a Euler Model Memetic Contagion Scan of my brain after looking at it. Desperately, Eva Laroche. To: Eva Laroche, Project head, Outpost 7457 From: Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 Subject: Re:Need your help with memetic anomaly Greetings. Your vector is a pretty mild one, intended to embed a certain concept or idea within the minds of people seeing it, with some indirect influence over their behaviour. As for your Euler Scan, I can't tell anything from it alone. If you want me to tell you what was affected, you need to send me a scan from before you were exposed. Sincerely, Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 To: Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 From: Eva Laroche, Project head, Outpost 7457 Subject: Re:Re:Need your help with memetic anomaly Oh of course, I'll send it right away. To: Eva Laroche, Project head, Outpost 7457 From: Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 Subject: Re:Re:Re:Need your help with memetic anomaly This is the same file, I would appreciate if you did not waste my time with mistakes like this. Sincerely, Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 To: Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 From: Eva Laroche, Project head, Outpost 7457 Subject: Re:Re:Re:Re:Need your help with memetic anomaly No? The second one I sent was taken back at my Site, prior to my first interaction with the anomaly. It's procedure to take one at the beginning of an assignment with a memetic anomaly. To: Eva Laroche, Project head, Outpost 7457 From: Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 Subject: Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Need your help with memetic anomaly You do not need to explain the procedure to me. Something must be wrong then, because those two scans are identical, at least in the area that would be affected by the picture you sent me. Sincerely, Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 To: Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 From: Eva Laroche, Project head, Outpost 7457 Subject: Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Need your help with memetic anomaly So if I follow what you're saying, I had been affected by SCP-7457-1 before even seeing -A and -B? To: Eva Laroche, Project head, Outpost 7457 From: Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 Subject: Urgent Following a bad hunch, I ran a test on one of my colleagues. It appears he too had already been affected by SCP-7457-1 despite never having been anywhere near France. This might be more serious than we thought. Sincerely, Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 To: Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 From: Eva Laroche, Project head, Outpost 7457 Subject: Re:Urgent Do you think it's worldwide? We know that the tribe that made SCP-7457-B migrated after a while, perhaps they might have spread more vectors. After all, if they copied it from those Nehanderthals, others might have copied it from them. To: Eva Laroche, Project head, Outpost 7457 From: Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 Subject: Re:Re:Urgent I will begin a search for more vectors of SCP-7457-1. I want you to summarise what you have learned so far about how it was conveyed in those tribes. Sincerely, Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 To: Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 From: Eva Laroche, Project head, Outpost 7457 Subject: Re:Re:Re:Urgent Of course. From my research and Moreau's, we know that SCP-7457-1: Was of great cultural significance to the people who made and spread it. Was associated with guidance. Had a positive impact on the tribes it affected, I noticed large demographic and cultural discrepancies between them and unaffected tribes in the same region. Was encouraged to be copied and shared. Was most often made of vectors with three parts. To: Eva Laroche, Project head, Outpost 7457 From: Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 Subject: No longer urgent It seems you will need to give the SCP-7457 file an extensive rework. SCP-7457-1's vectors are indeed spread worldwide and its effect are present in a vast number of people. Luckily for us, they are both positive and barely noticeable. After my search returned many positive results for SCP-7457-1 vectors, I was able to run a few more tests and figure out its effects. SCP-7457-1 conveys the idea of a positive lifestyle, and carries a slight compulsive effect that encourages people to survive, cultivate bonds with other people5, and enjoy their company/creations. As I said, these effects are very weak and are easily ignored. It also appears that over time, vectors of SCP-7457-1 have evolved from visual representations to textual ones, which are more easily copied and shared. I believe that the lack of awareness of SCP-7457-1's existence while copying these vectors is what has lead to its effects weakening. In any case, while SCP-7457-A itself remains dangerous, the version of SCP-7457-1 that was made by Homo sapiens and has now spread worldwide poses no threat to humanity or the Veil. Once you update the file with all the recent developments, you can consider this case closed. I no longer need to be involved. Sincerely, Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 To: Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 From: Eva Laroche, Project head, Outpost 7457 Subject: Re: No longer urgent Thank you immensely for your help, Dr Lillihammer. Your theory about the evolution of the vectors is interesting, do you think you could send me an example of the modern ones so I can verify it, and perhaps include it in the revised file? To: Eva Laroche, Project head, Outpost 7457 From: Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 Subject: Re: Re:No longer urgent I thought this would be obvious from the description I gave you. Dr Laroche, you just spent the last couple of months studying the world's oldest "Live, Laugh, Love" sign. Sincerely, Lillian Lillihammer, PhD, Site-43 Footnotes 1. Unlike most of SCP-7457's effects, this was not immediately detectable. It instead manifested on the night when, to celebrate recent progress, Dr Vamer took his team to the "Marrakech du rire" festival, resulting in ██ civilian casualties. 2. Or memetics, Moreau's team needs the updates too. 3. One in particular looks like a graphic depiction of SCP-████. 4. Including various dance moves. 5. This appears to be somewhat amplified towards people who have also been affected by SCP-7457-1. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7457" by Guezma, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7457. 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 "Redacted painting image was made by combining the following two images: Filename: Lascaux II.jpg Author: Jack Versloot License: Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic Source: https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Lascaux_II.jpg Filename: BlkadD.jpg Author: Architect5051 License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International Source: https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:BlkadD.jpg |
SCP-7459 | keter | WARNING: ONGOING POTENTIAL XK-CLASS SCENARIO. SOLAR ANOMALY DETECTED. IMMEDIATE RISK CLASS OF: CRITICAL. DISRUPTION CLASS: AMIDA. THE SUN AND THE MOON ARE BOTH RAPIDLY MOVING AWAY FROM THE EARTH. NO ROOT CAUSE FOR THIS PHENOMENON IS CURRENTLY KNOWN/UNDERSTOOD. PLEASE IMMEDIATELY SEEK SHELTER IN A NEARBY CLASS-A-RATED FACILITY FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY AND WAIT FOR FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS FROM YOUR CORRESPONDING SITE-DIRECTORY BOARD. CONTINUE READING THIS FILE ONLY IF IMPERATIVE. Item #: SCP-7459 Site-7459: Special Containment Procedures: Site-7459 is to be maintained as a wildlife and nature reserve via the Västerbotten Government on behalf of The Foundation. All civilians and/or non-authorised personnel who enter the 5-kilometre exclusion zone surrounding Site-7459 are to be apprehended and interrogated by on-site personnel under the guise of the local authorities, before being transferred to ████████'s town jail, located 25km outside of Site-7459. Class-A and/or Class-B amnestics may be administered to detained individuals if deemed necessary. Several outposts across Site-7459 are to be maintained in order to monitor seismic activity in the area, and the contents of the river running through the region. In the event that the contents of the river become impure due to activity from SCP-7459-B, the river is to be cut off and pooled into a provisional reservoir until this activity ceases. Any and all abnormal seismic activity within Site-7459 is to be reported directly to 05 Command Liaisons. Description: Site-7459 comprises 200 km² of land surrounding both Mt. ██████████, and the river originating from it. Site-7459 naturally contains SCP-7459-A-1 and is one of the few instances where SCP-7459-B has actively interacted with the surface to a significant degree. Site-7459 was initially brought to The Foundation's attention in 1982 after peculiarities in wildlife behavior across Europe and Russia became widespread public knowledge. After investigation, it was discovered that female wolves in the region were deserting their packs in large numbers and migrating toward what is now Site-7459, with specimens converging on different sections of the river originating from Mt. ██████████ and following it to the mountain's base. Studies conducted on the river found it to be comprised of significant amounts of non-native biological substances, the most prominent of which being blood, pheromones, and semen, with semen making up the vast majority of the river's volume. DNA testing matched extracts of semen and pheromones taken from the water to Canis Lupus (The Grey Wolf). However such tests conducted on extracts of the blood were inconclusive. Foundation Agents observed Site-7459, more specifically Mt. ██████████, for several days; a large gathering of roughly 235 female wolves were recorded to have gathered around the entrance to a cave system at the base of Mt. ██████████ which the river flowed through. Several more days following this observation all members of the gathering had entered into the initial cavern. Attempts by Foundation Agents to enter the cavern were made impossible by a substantial increase in river discharge shortly thereafter, creating dangerous rapids and blocking any possible route of entry. This also dissuaded any arriving wolves that had not already entered from doing so, and within a few days, no more specimens were found to be making their way toward Site-7459. Further study found that the source of the river higher up the mountain was not comprised of any unusual substance, and was by all accounts normal spring water. Neither was it at a high discharge level, unlike the river further downstream that had gone through the mountain. 75 days following these events, the river's discharge levels dropped significantly. A subsequent expedition team was assembled to enter the cavern: Expedition Log: 7459-A Date: ██/██/82 Time: 7:32 AM 5 Universal Task Force Agents entered the cavern at the base of Mt. ██████████ in the early morning. By this time the river’s discharge levels had subsided to where the entrance into the cavern was navigable. Upon entry, it was immediately clear that there was a second flow of liquid that intersected with the naturally occurring river in the cavern, this second stream of fluid was almost entirely composed of semen and blood and originated from a cave system deeper underground. The UTF Agents, although equipped for cave expeditions, requested explicit permission to follow the stream of fluid deeper into the cave. Control accepted, and the Agents began to follow the stream to its source. As the team moved deeper into the cave, it was found to descend several hundred meters underground. After two more hours of descent, the team came to a sudden halt due to a heightened face of rocks forming a dam that blocked their path. The Agents took a short period of rest before electing one of their members to climb the obstacle; upon doing so The Agent stumbled and fell before they could fully come to their balance, unintentionally activating the audio recording device mounted to their chest in the process. [BEGIN AUDIO LOG] Agent Shepard: AAAAAA-SHIT! FUCK! [A loud splash is audible.] Agent Pines: Kalie, you ok?! Agent Shepard: Yeah, yeah… oh goddamnit I turned this stupid thing on…ugh, what the hell is this stuff? JESUS FUC- [END AUDIO LOG] The other members of the team promptly climbed over the rocks to aid Agent Shepard, finding that they had fallen directly into a mound of rotting wolf carcasses which had built up against the rock face, and now were blocking the flow of fluid downstream. Upon further inspection, all specimens in the pile were female and acutely mutilated, all bearing fatal lacerations across their cervix. Continuing through the cave, it was noted that the level of liquid beyond the dam was significantly higher, and at some points neck deep, forcing the Agents to swim through it rather than walk. The liquid was also noted as to be increasingly more viscous and foul-smelling. Several more bodies, all female wolves with the same wounds to their cervix, were found floating in the liquid or pinned against rocks, as the Agents continued. Floating alongside these specimens were the remnants of exceptionally large canine fetuses; later expeditions uncovered similar instances, both still partially in the wombs of, and in the stomachs, of several deceased adult specimens. Roughly one hour after passing the dam, the Agents reached a large and relatively open-spaced cavern that provided higher ground; in the center of this cavern, a large mound of flesh and bone (estimated to be roughly 10,440 kg in mass) was interrupting the stream of liquid. This was deemed to be the source of the blood found in the lower course of the river, and upon further inspection, it resembled a human finger, though several thousandfold larger. What would equate to the metacarpal and proximal phalanx still possessed a significant amount of flesh but with no obvious signs of decay or rot despite adverse conditions; later analysis revealed that the tissue derived from the object, now referred to as Item: 7459-1, was impervious to microbial and chemical deterioration. The team was ordered by control to retrieve samples from Item: 7459-1 before continuing further into the cave, the team complied and began to cut off sections of meat and bone, on further inspection small bite marks covered the surface of the object. As the team was doing this, a distinctive loud chewing was heard coming from the other side. The team requested permission to investigate, control accepted but advised caution. Approaching the other side of Item: 7459-1, the team located the source of the sound as an infantile wolf cub (hereby referred to as SCP-7459-C) consuming a section of flesh it had torn from Item: 7459-1. Alongside SCP-7459-C was the corpse of yet another adult female wolf which was presumably its mother, this specimen was of note due to its larger body size, and a lack of any major external injury.1 Upon detecting the Agents, SCP-7459-C ran toward and huddled against its deceased mother. Control requested the team to retrieve both the living and dead specimen, recommending that three Agents return to the surface while the remaining two continue onward. The team complied. The two remaining Agents then traveled deeper into the cave system in pursuit of the streams' origin. 40 minutes after their separation with the other team members, the Agents noticed a glowing light further into the cave which became more intense as they approached it. The Agents entered another extremely high ceilinged cavern, discovering the source of the light to be a metallic golden chain suspended from overhead and descending into an underground geyser that was producing the vast volumes of semen that contributed to the stream. Later investigation also concluded that the geyser discovered by the Agents was in fact the entrance to an even larger underground chasm, similar to other such chasms found beneath several dozen anomalous instances similar to SCP-7459-A-1. SCP-7459-A: Special Containment Procedures: Ground-level containment of SCP-7459-A-1 has been achieved through the containment procedures for Site-7459. Any aviation or orbital activities interrupted by SCP-7459-A-1 are to be investigated and subsequently dealt with as per standard field protocols. SCP-7459-A-1 is typically not visible in footage taken of the Earth, however as a precaution, Foundation Counter Intelligence is to search for and scrub any references to it that may appear in media or in academic circles. As of 1989, Foundation web crawlers have been deployed to remove any reference to the anomaly that may appear on the internet. SCP-7459-A 2-39 are to be monitored on a regular basis in a similar capacity to SCP-7459-A-1 but require no further containment procedures due to their extremely remote locations and lack of disruption potential. Description: SCP-7459-A-1 is a stone structure located at the peak of Mt. ██████████. Within SCP-7459-A-1 is a metallic golden chain comprised of an unknown alloy, half a meter in diameter, wrapped around an inner core located within the stone structure. This chain descends several thousand meters into the earth, entering the chasm beneath the mountain. Both the stone structure and the chain are indestructible via any known means, and weigh far more than their mass should allow. Dozens of instances similar to SCP-7459-A-1 (Designated as SCP-7459-A 1-39) have been discovered across the Arctic Circle, however, as well as its notable location, SCP-7459-A-1 bears both unique markings and an additional two chains located on its exterior. The outward sides of SCP-7459-A-1 are etched with artwork as well as Nordic runes, depicting three celestial bodies: Earth in the center, with the Sun and the Moon on its flanks. Each celestial body is paired with a depiction of a wolf looming over it, with the wolf paired with Earth being the largest of the three. On the bottom and top sections of the stone structure, there is a continuous pattern of wolves chasing the Sun and the Moon. The two exterior chains attached to SCP-7459-A-1 are identical in composition to the primary chain, but are far thinner, only 12 cm in diameter. Each is located on the left and right faces of the structure respectively. Both chains extend into the sky indefinitely, seemingly with no physical anchorage other than SCP-7459-A-1. Both chains experience periodic strain depending on the time of day, with the rightmost chain straining at noon and the leftmost chain straining at midnight. The source of whatever is straining the chains is currently unknown, although it has been noted that the direction of the chains consistently lines up with the approximate locations of local light refraction phenomena, parhelia, and paraselenae, respectively. SCP-7459-A 1-39 are believed to have been constructed as containment mechanisms dedicated to SCP-7459-B due to their placement above underground chasms where SCP-7459-B is partially accessible from the surface. The party or entity which constructed them is currently not known. SCP-7459-B: Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7459-B, is at least in theory, already physically contained for the foreseeable future, and as such containment procedures for SCP-7459-B are to focus on keeping its existence a secret. Any seismic activity or phenomenon caused by SCP-7459-B is to be removed from public record, and covert containment teams are to secure the site at which they occurred. Further procedures may be carried out on a case-by-case basis if necessary. Thus far, only Site-7459 has required extensive containment measures to be employed in order to keep SCP-7459-B's existence confidential. Currently, as of ██/██/82, the existence of SCP-7459-B has not been disclosed to The Global Occult Coalition, in spite of the 1972 Trepczyński Co-Aptness Treaty, due to concerns that any direct intervention may contribute to SCP-7459-B becoming far more active and thus destructive. Description: SCP-7459-B is a massive subterranean organism that exists on average 6 km under the Earth's surface. It is present across the majority of the Arctic Circle, making it roughly the size of a small continent. SCP-7459-B both physiologically and genetically resembles an adult male specimen of Canis Lupus (The Grey Wolf), however evidence has shown that its tissue and hide are extremely resilient, if not impervious, to both physical trauma as well as natural decay. SCP-7459-B is alive, however it is believed to be in a state of prolonged torpor, and its interactions with the surface are largely involuntary, e.g. bodily secretions and periodic muscle movement, both of which have resulted in noticeable activity on the surface. It has been noted that muscle movement of SCP-7459-B has been consistently most frequent during winter periods from November-February. SCP-7459-B is also believed to be growing in width, height, and weight, albeit at an extremely slow pace as to not be a concern for several hundred years according to Foundation projections. It is unknown exactly how SCP-7459-B came to be buried under the Arctic Circle, however, due to the nature of the underground chasms associated with SCP-7459-B, as well as the fact that it is growing, it can be assumed that SCP-7459-B was far smaller when it was originally entombed and that its subsequent growth, movement, and excretions have been making the ground above it increasingly unstable. Following the hypothesis that SCP-7459-A 1-39 were constructed to contain SCP-7459-B by an unknown party or entity, it was discovered that the chain of each structure is directly bound to SCP-7459-B. Recorded muscle movements of SCP-7459-B near the sites where these chains are bound to its body are far smaller than in areas further away from these sites. SCP-7459-C: Special Containment Procedures: Due to the nature of SCP-7459-C, containment measures must be periodically overhauled, an increase to the size of the containment vessel was required on average every 2 months until its current enclosure was established. Currently, SCP-7459-C is contained in a retrofitted 2 km² vivarium (as per the suggestion of Dr. Kristian Ashfield); originally outfitted as an aviary, it provides ample vertical and horizontal space for SCP-7459-C as well as a natural environment. The exterior of the vivarium is to be electrified to dissuade SCP-7459-C from approaching it, however SCP-7459-C is largely docile due to its upbringing in Foundation containment. As SCP-7459-C poses the threat of both a ßK-class “lifted veil” scenario, and given enough time, a K-class end-of-the-world scenario, a permanent solution, code-named: Operation Shooting Star, is currently being devised as of ██/██/85 by SCP-7459-C's containment team, The Joint-Foundation Aerospace Committee, The Logistical Office, and the Offices of O5-6, and O5-12. Operation Shooting Star is expected to be completed within 7-12 years. Description: SCP-7459-C is a Class-A Sapient male specimen of Canis Lupus (The Grey Wolf). SCP-7459-C, since its discovery as an infant in 1982, has been increasing in mass at an exponential rate and has since reached a mass of 206 tons and a height of 42 meters. SCP-7459-C does not require nutrients in order to maintain this size nor to continue growth, and prolonged periods without food and water have revealed that it requires neither to sustain any of its bodily functions. The only food that SCP-7459-C has consumed readily has been Item: 7459-1, which it seems to be able to digest despite Item: 7459-1's high resistance to chemical weathering. There is a standing hypothesis that Item: 7459-1 may have contributed in some capacity to SCP-7459-C's anomalous properties and how it survived through infancy without its mother. SCP-7459-C has similar levels of resilience to physical trauma as SCP-7459-B, although it does still feel pain to a relatively normal degree, which has been utilized to ensure its containment. Testing done to determine the nature of SCP-7459-C's metabolism has revealed that it can survive without oxygen, and even in a vacuum, without any ill effects. Attempts to pierce SCP-7459-C's tissue have all failed, however, it has been successfully restrained and even incapacitated on several occasions; it is integral to note that attempts to restrain and/or incapacitate SCP-7459-C have required more effort in league with its growth and that eventually, it will be likely impossible to achieve either. Dr. Ashfield has suggested that attempts to do so be kept at a minimum as to ensure SCP-7459-C's cooperation in Operation Shooting Star. SCP-7459-C is a Class-A Sapient organism, capable of higher thought and speech, this is the same level as standard human subjects, albeit SCP-7459-C is capable of learning complex skills and concepts at a much faster rate, and at a much younger age, than humans. SCP-7459-C does however still possess behaviors associated with its own species, most predominantly in regard to body language, primal behaviors, and routine. SCP-7459-C Observation and Behavior Log: Start Date: ██/██/82 Chief Observer: Dr. Kristian Ashfield. ██/██/82: SCP-7459-C is transferred to Area-12 and placed in an incubation chamber. SCP-7459-C refuses to consume any synthetic milk given to it, subsequent attempts are made utilizing preserved milk from its deceased mother, although SCP-7459-C seemed more interested, it still refused to consume it. Forced feeding was authorized for a period of 4 weeks. ██/██/82: SCP-7459-C required larger containment apparatus due to a substantial increase in size over 3 and a half weeks from its initial containment. ██/██/82: SCP-7459-C refuses to allow personnel to remove a blanket it had outgrown, it was requested of Dr. Ashfield to attempt to replace it, however Dr. Ashfield reported it was too difficult. SCP-7459-C has been issued with two blankets. ██/██/82: SCP-7459-C is still extremely uncooperative during feeding sessions. Dr. Ashfield proposes feeding it sections from Item: 7459-1. This proved successful and was adopted as standard practice. ██/██/82 - ██/██/83: Multiple instances where SCP-7459-C required transfer to a larger containment chamber. SCP-7459-C has surpassed infantile stages of development and is now equivalent in size to a several-year-old specimen of a non-anomalous Grey Wolf. ██/██/82: Initial testing on SCP-7459-C's tissue and metabolism reveals its extreme physical durability as well as its metabolism not requiring a fuel source. It is however noted that SCP-7459-C did still feel pain during attempts to pierce its tissue. ██/██/82: Further testing has revealed SCP-7459-C does not require oxygen to sustain bodily functions. ██/██/82: SCP-7459-C required to transfer to a larger containment chamber. ██/██/82: Strength testing was conducted, it has been noted that SCP-7459-C was capable of pulling several times its own body weight and biting through solid titanium. Containment Specialist Connors is to be reimbursed with a new shin implant, as well as all medical expenses. ██/██/82: SCP-7459-C underwent exposure to high voltages of electricity in order to instill a fear of its containment barrier. Although accidental, it was discovered that high enough voltages could incapacitate SCP-7459-C for a reliable amount of time. This, along with severe blunt trauma, are the only known methods of doing so. ██/██/82 - ██/██/83: Multiple instances where SCP-7459-C required transfer to a larger containment chamber. ██/██/83: Dr. Ashfield is concerned that SCP-7459-C is not able to become accustomed to its containment environment due to frequent transfers, citing behaviors typical of stress. ██/██/83 - ██/██/83: Multiple instances where SCP-7459-C required transfer to a larger containment chamber. ██/██/83: During a routine transfer to a larger containment chamber within Area-12, SCP-7459-C was observed mimicking the language of personnel it encountered during the transfer. Said language was a segment of conversation between two personnel, in which one was discussing her son-in-law; SCP-7459-C continually repeated the word "son" for around 30 minutes. Further investigation by Dr. Ashfield into the cognitive abilities of SCP-7459-C has since been taken. ██/██/83: Dr. Ashfield has begun regular interaction and teaching sessions with SCP-7459-C. ██/██/83: Dr. Ashfield has been informed that, although SCP-7459-C has seemed responsive to the phrase, he is not to continue referring to SCP-7459-C as 'Buddy' during the aforementioned interaction sessions. ██/██/84: SCP-7459-C has been confirmed as fully sapient. Teaching sessions conducted by Dr. Ashfield have thus far resulted in SCP-7459-C comprehending the English language, basic numeracy, the alphabet, and the ability to reflect on its own existence and situation. ██/██/84: SCP-7459-C required to transfer to a larger containment chamber. ██/██/84: Dr. Ashfield has requested several books, VHS tapes, and a television, be submitted to his efforts in teaching SCP-7459-C. The request has been accepted so long as the content is deemed appropriate by internal censors. ██/██/84 - ██/██/84: Multiple instances where SCP-7459-C required transfer to a larger containment chamber. ██/██/84: Dr. Ashfield has proposed that a dedicated containment chamber be constructed for SCP-7459-C, utilizing a currently dilapidated aviary at the surface level of Area-14. Proposal accepted. ██/██/84 - ██/██/85: Multiple instances where SCP-7459-C required transfer to a larger containment chamber. ██/██/85: Concerns over SCP-7459-C's exponential growth, especially in relation to SCP-7459-B, have been expressed to The Overseer Council. Current projections show that SCP-7459-C’s rate of growth is increasing and that it will be too large to contain within 30 years, and would eventually grow large enough to damage the continental shelf in a similar capacity to SCP-7459-B. Operation Shooting Star has been devised in order to permanently remove SCP-7459-C as a threat. SCP-7459-C has been reclassified as Keter. ██/██/85: SCP-7459-C currently possesses a level of intelligence on par with a standard teenage human subject. SCP-7459-C and Dr. Ashfield have begun to spend far more time in conversation with each other rather than teaching, Dr. Ashfield was initially going to be reprimanded for this behavior, but has explained his motives as exploring SCP-7459-C's social capabilities. Area-12's Superintendent Commission deemed this as acceptable reasoning. ██/██/85: SCP-7459-C, along with its containment team, was transferred from Area-12 to Area-14 due to its increased size and strength posing a greater risk and for easier transfer when construction of the specialised containment vivarium is completed. ██/██/85: SCP-7459-C has reached a level of intelligence comparable to a standard human adult. SCP-7459-C has been noted as becoming extremely lethargic when not in contact with Dr. Ashfield. ██/██/85: Quantity of Item: 7459-1 available for consumption is lowering at a fast rate. Tissue and bone marrow from Item: 7459-1 has been blended with regularly sourced meat in order to make its use more efficient, although SCP-7459-C commented on this change in diet, it still ate. ██/██/85: Dr. Ashfield missed the staff Christmas celebration, designating the time to be with SCP-7459-C. It was later uncovered that several members of staff were coaxed by Dr. Ashfield into spending said time with SCP-7459-C. Area-14's Site Admin conducted an investigation into the incident, but concluded due to SCP-7459-C's docile nature that no punishment was to be received. It has however been made explicit to all personnel that such actions are forbidden. ██/██/86: Construction work on SCP-7459-C's new enclosure has finished. The transfer was accomplished with no complications. ██/██/86: The containment team has observed new behaviors in SCP-7459-C once had it been relocated to the new enclosure. SCP-7459-C consistently climbs up to rest on a high ledge in its enclosure and howls at the sky for several hours at a time. This has become solidified in its routine and occurs at the approximate times of sunrise, noon, dusk, and midnight. Dr. Ashfield has requested no interference to these activities be made in order to ensure accurate observations. ██/██/86: SCP-7459-C has become incredibly more insular, even around Dr. Ashfield. It has stopped consuming meals given to it completely. Meals have since stopped being provided. ██/██/87: Roughly a year after its introduction to the vivarium, SCP-7459-C has become so large as to be the same height as the ledge that it had previously climbed up to in order to rest while sitting down. Insular social behavior has continued, and Dr. Ashfield has been attached to other projects within Area-14 as sole focus on SCP-7459-C is no longer deemed necessary. ██/██/89: Dr. Ashfield entered SCP-7459-C's enclosure along with 2 Armed Personnel. SCP-7459-C had its back turned to the three, and was laid down sleeping. Walking around to its head, Dr. Ashfield attempted to pet SCP-7459-C only for it to jolt awake and snap its jaws toward him, one of Dr. Ashfield's guards instinctively leaped in front of him before the bite connected and was severely injured as a result. SCP-7459-C recoiled and paused upon realizing what had happened, and allowed Dr. Ashfield along with his entourage to evacuate the area. The designated Security Director for SCP-7459-C must now approve of all interactions with SCP-7459-C in advance, effectively placing SCP-7459-C on lockdown. ██/██/89: Several days later, Dr. Ashfield made a request to interact with SCP-7459-C on the basis of ensuring it was not stressed. This request was granted but was carefully monitored. The following is a recording of the interaction: [BEGIN VIDEO LOG] [Dr. Ashfield enters SCP-7459-C's vivarium at 1:23 AM. SCP-7459-C is busy howling toward the sky, and does not notice Dr. Ashfield upon his entry.] [Dr. Ashfield walks deeper into the enclosure, placing down a tray containing pure extract from Item: 7459-1.] Dr. Ash: Who're you talking to? [SCP-7459-C cuts off its howling, swiftly turning around to face Dr. Ashfield, seeming surprised and flustered for words.] SCP-7459-C: Brothers- I… I was talking to my brothers. Dr. Ash: You never told me that before, old friend. I thought you would've come to me, as you always have. SCP-7459-C: I did not- I did not want to lie to you… I wanted to tell you - but - I was… scared. I was scared of what they were telling me, scared of… [Dr. Ashfield approaches SCP-7459-C's paw to the dismay of security personnel monitoring the scene, resting his hand on top of it.] Dr. Ash: Ah, so that's why you stopped talking to me. SCP-7459-C: I could not bare to lie to you. Dr. Ash: What were you so scared of? What were they telling you? You know you could have talked to me, I would've helped. SCP-7459-C: I was of scared then exactly what I am scared of now; that you would be scared of me. Kristian - I am - so glad that you are talking to me. I am so sorry. [Dr. Ashfield looks up toward SCP-7459-C's eyes, stroking the fur on its paw rhythmically.] Dr. Ash: Don't be, that was my fault, not yours. Now tell me, please, so I can help you: what did your brothers tell you? [SCP-7459-C tilts its head downward, exhaling, the force of its breath shaking the vegetation within its enclosure and blowing Dr. Ashfield's hat from his head.] SCP-7459-C: They spoke of density, pulled from them at the last moment each and every day, each and every night. They spoke of a fate that I did not want. Then they spoke of legends, of themselves… of… betrayal… of… father. Dr. Ash: Your father? SCP-7459-C: You never did tell me, none of you did, but I have always known that you knew of my father. I could… smell him… on all of you… when I was first dragged away from my mother… [SCP-7459-C pauses for several moments and inhales deeply before continuing.] SCP-7459-C: I- I was so scared, more than I am now. You though, I was not scared of you. When I was dragged through a cold wet cave and left in a cage, you, gave me warmth; I still keep that blanket, you know, I never let them take it. When I had nothing to parch my hunger, when I was ever so starving, you, gave me food. When I was lonely, and ever so ignorant of the world, you spent time with me, you taught me, you gave me happiness. You have been a good friend, Kristian. But alas… I am afraid I must ask you, why? You never told me of what you knew of my father, and I have feared the worst for so many sleepless nights. Dr. Ash: I- [SCP-7459-C leans down to bring its face only a few inches from Dr. Ashfield, who turns away for a brief moment.] SCP-7459-C: You would not betray me, would you, Kristian? [Dr. Ashfield pauses, looking back up toward SCP-7459-C, he gently lifts his hand, placing it atop SCP-7459-C’s snout.] Dr. Ash: Buddy… sweet little Buddy. You are my dear friend, and for many years I thought of you almost as my child. I have seen you grow and learn, and I am ever so proud of you- [Dr. Ashfield is interrupted as SCP-7459-C shifts its head toward him, lightly brushing up against his torso.] Dr. Ash: I would never betray you. SCP-7459-C: Then I have nothing to fear, for the fate aligned for me is a falsehood, for we - are true brothers. [END LOG] Addendum: Operation Shooting Star Date: ██/██/92: Operation Shooting Star has since concluded the planning and logistics phase and the provisional launch site is currently being constructed. SCP-7459-C is scheduled to be incapacitated and relocated to the launch site by the end of the month. Personnel present other than the launch crew will include SCP-7459-C's containment team, O5-12's secretary, and elements of Mobile Task Force Nu-7. Update: Attempts to incapacitate SCP-7459-C have failed, this is likely due to estimates of its tolerance to high electrical voltages being extremely outdated. Dr. Ashfield has since been responsible for both convincing SCP-7459-C that the incapacitation attempts were an accident, as well as convincing the entity to relocate to the launch site and to voluntarily enter its restraints, having cited them to SCP-7459-C as a test of its physical capabilities similar to the ones conducted during its infancy. The launch site was appropriately disguised as part of the ruse. Update: During the start of the launch sequence, SCP-7459-C realised what was occurring and attempted to break free from its restraints, though was initially unsuccessful. Upon distinguishing Dr. Ashfield in the crowd, SCP-7459-C lashed out more violently than it had before, managing to break free from multiple of its restraints, which enabled it to move its upper body freely. SCP-7459-C immediately thereafter lunged directly toward Dr. Ashfield, severing his forearm. 22 further casualties were reported during the incident, however SCP-7459-C did not manage to completely break free before launch, and was successfully jettisoned into space. Footnotes 1. The deceased female was later uncovered to be from a nature reserve where, due to its large size, it was well known by locals who had nicknamed it "Völuspá". ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7459" by locomotivefaox, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7459. 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-7460 | keter | SCP-7460 Byㅤ BitOddInnit Published on 07 Oct 2023 16:47 Item #: SCP-7460 Sacrae Causā Prōcēdendae: We are, at this moment in time, unable to protect against SCP-7460 in any meaningful, widespread way. Currently, the Fundamentum's cover story for SCP-7460 occurrences is to pin the blame for the victim's transformation on them having been cursed by a Witch. Should any countermeasure to SCP-7460 be devised, it is to be put in place immediately to prevent further casualties. Personnel will be informed of these measures, as it is not our aim to confuse those who serve our cause. While it is unknown if it is possible to ward off SCP-7460 events, the Fundamentum recommends performing as many of the following actions as possible if any feel they are at risk of becoming a victim of SCP-7460: Shut all windows, doors and other entryways to your home as tightly as possible. Shut the blinds and draw the curtains on all windows that possess them. If any windows do not possess such coverings, cover them with any available loose objects. Plywood is recommended, if available. Strip your bed of its sheets. Keep the blanket and pillow, and attempt to sleep with your back to a wall. Destroy any toys in the house, specifically any which had belonged to you or a loved one during their childhood. Description: SCP-7460 is a phenomenon that causes slumbering people to be transformed into puppets . All transformed individuals (Henceforth referred to as SCP-7460-A) are composed of wood, with their facial features having been painted on. Numerous members of personnel have reported feeling as though the eyes of SCP-7460-A instances follow them, although there is no evidence to prove that instances are capable of moving their eyes. While the occurrence of SCP-7460 is not limited to one geographic region, it appears to be far more likely to affect individuals aged between thirty and forty and are married. The reason for this, if any, is unknown. Individuals asleep in the same bed as victims of SCP-7460 often report experiencing nightmares prior to awakening to discover the SCP-7460-A instance. These nightmares vary vastly in content, but all have the single connecting factor of the heavy involvement of a young girl in the narrative of the dream. Addendum: Shortly following a rise in the number of SCP-7460 occurrences, Professor Vivian MacGuillicudy of the Arcane Institute of Xerophylla reported an exceptionally vivid nightmare, despite no occurrences of SCP-7460 being reported within ten miles of the Institute. The dream was recovered and recorded by the Institute's Oneroiscribe, and has been attached here. The dream opens, and MacGullicudy is seated in the front row of a theatre, alone. The hall is silent, and the air is still. It's cold. Faintly, piano music begins to play from somewhere in the theatre. The curtains raise, and a young girl sits on a stool in the centre of the stage. A number of vaguely humanoid shapes are visible in the gloom behind her. She looks directly at MacGullicudy, and smiles. ???: I hope you enjoy the show. The girl stands, and a bright light floods the stage. MacGuillicudy finds himself on the stage, sat in a wooden chair and looking at a small puppet's theatre. He looks to his left, seeing a puppet wearing a simple blue dress with black hair, staring straight ahead. A number of strings extend upwards from its upper body, into the gloom above the stage. The young girl stands behind the theatre, two smaller puppets in either hand. She lowers them through the top of the box, and begins to manipulate them in a sort of dance. They writhe about, kicking their arms and waving their legs wildly. He forces a smile, unable to pull his gaze from the two figures. Deep down, he knows it's an awful show that no person in their right mind would ever willingly watch. Yet watch he does. The display continues for a matter of moments longer, before the girl suddenly stops, smiling at MacGuillicudy and the puppet. The puppet applauds, its hands clacking with every clap. MacGuillicudy raises his hands, but he appears to be frozen in place, as his chair is dragged backwards, away from the girl and off the stage. The light dims, before darkness consumes his vision. A wind howls in his ears, and the cold bites at his skin like a wall of ice being smashed against him. One of them holds the Torch of Release, its flames flickering red against the wooden backdrop of the theatre's wall. The light reappears, and MacGuillicudy has returned to his seat in the audience. The stage's curtains are closed again, and they reopen to reveal a Burning. The puppet from the previous scene is slumped over, tied to a pole amid a pile of firewood, its face veiled. The girl is present, looking up at the puppet, surrounded by a group of other puppets, their features indistinct. One holds a Torch of Release in its hand, its bright orange flames casting a flickering shadow along the wall behind the stage. It tosses the torch into the pile of wood, which sparks and bursts into flames. The fire quickly consumes the pile, and climbs up the pole. The attached puppet is set alight at a slower pace than its surroundings, slowly crumbling to ash as the girl and remaining puppets watch. One of them, a facsimile of a bald man with a grey beard, places a hand on her shoulder as she stares straight into the flames. The lights flicker. When they return in full, the scene has shifted. The girl, now visibly older, and the bearded puppet from the previous scene are both huddled over a number of books, which cover a pair of long tables. A number of others are strewn about, and incomprehensible markings are drawn onto paper sheets that plaster the wall behind them. They both appear engrossed, and are largely focused on their reading, occasionally raising their heads to silently speak with one another. The music slows slightly, and the girl raises her head. She does not speak, but instead raises a hand, as a number of small, glowing spheres appear floating in her palm. She lightly tosses them into the air, and they float down to the ground, streaming blues and whites as they slowly descend. The puppet raises its head, and stares at the orbs, before conjuring a larger, redder orb and tossing it to the girl. She goes to catch it, and the theatre goes black one final time. It's cold. It's dark. It's empty. Wherever MacGuillicudy is, there is nothing. An infinite expanse of void stretches out around him in every direction, an overflowing absence into which he unmovingly plummets. A wind howls, but nothing is felt. Everything is nothing, and the only thing which remains continues his still fall. Suddenly, it stops, and from behind nothing, the girl enters view. She approaches MacGuillicudy, her footsteps echoing into the darkness that surrounds them. He can't move, only able to watch as she moves closer. She stands before him, and wraps her arms around him. Her body is pleasantly warm, but the sensation is uncomfortable, like sleeping in a stranger's bed after an exhausting session of labor. ???: I've been looking for you for so long. I thought maybe the message wasn't getting across. The wind stops. The piano music can just barely be heard. ???: Did you like it? It's been so long since my last show, I thought you might've forgotten all those times you clapped for my nonsensical little episodes. The music stops. Silence. ???: I'm sure you're looking forward to seeing one in the flesh again, some day. The dream ends. Professor MacGuillicudy has neglected to comment on the dream. Investigation into the individual in the dream is ongoing, although it is debated if they truly exist, as all attempts to divine their location through Familial Scrying have failed to yield any success, at great expense to MacGuillicudy's health. Three of Cups ANTHOLOGY 2023 Temperance THE EMPEROR A BitOddInnit Article More From This Author More From This Author BitOddInnit's Works SCPs SCP-7293 • SCP-6734 • SCP-7836 • Tales/GoI Formats Not Alone • Dancing In The Ashes • Percy • Oliver's Shop Of Curiosities • Anderson Robotics' Installation Guide: Your New Black Series Sidhe-Issue Wing Chassis! • Other ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7460" by BitOddInnit, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7460. 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-7462 | safe | Who is that shade, who stands to the side? A figure in shadow, a King untied. . close Info X SCP-7462: And every night, Alagadda drags you back. Written by: FlyPurgatorio | Authorpage This article contains references to alcoholism, suicide, self-mutilation, mutilation of an eye, and text in verse. I only apologise for the latter. ⚠️ content warning Item#: 7462 Level3 Containment Class: safe Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: warning link to memo Assigned Site Site Supervisor Research Lead Case Lead Outpost 312 Anna Dubois Yasmin Merhout Jan Claessen "Willem die Madocke/vele bouke maekte." Opening lines to "Van Den Vos Reynaerde" in the Comburger manuscript, modified in the 1400s. The first known redaction of the existence of SCP-7462. Special Containment Procedures: The only known copy of SCP-7462 is kept in Containment Locker 2 at Outpost 312 in Nieuwegein, Netherlands. Under no circumstances are the contents of SCP-7462 allowed to be recontextualised in any way. This includes transcription, (modern Dutch or English) translation, or adaptation through recitals, performance or reading out loud. The status of SCP-7462 as a lost text is to be maintained under cover story 7462/1640 “Forgetbuster”. Any newly discovered renditions are to be retrieved and contained, and all references to their existence removed. Foundation webcrawlers are to monitor for mentions of “Madocke" or "Madock” in combination with “Alagadda”. Description: SCP-7462 is a spiral-class hermeneutic1 attached to Madocke, an epic poem in Middle-Dutch estimated to have been written around 1250. Its only surviving rendition, SCP-7462-1, was discovered as a fragment manuscript in the bookbinding of a 16th century printed edition of Karel ende Elegast.2 Evidence suggests that the folios containing SCP-7462-1 were cut from the Trechter Manuscript, a handwritten composite manuscript dating back to the latter half of the 13th century, containing 70 non-anomalous Medieval literary texts. The Trechter Manuscript is otherwise well-preserved, suggesting that the removal of SCP-7462-1 was a deliberate act. The Red Lord of Alagadda, depicted as a fox in the Trechter Manuscript. Madocke is a relatively short epic poem, consisting of only 701 lines of verse; the odd number of lines suggests that this rendition is incomplete. Very little is known about its writer, aside from also writing Van Den Vos Reynaerde.3 Further examination of Reynaerde shows no anomalous link; however, the opening prologue of Reynaerde instructs the perceiver to leave its words unchanged, suggesting awareness of SCP-7462's effects. Discovery: On 26/04/2004, the Foundation was alerted to the existence of SCP-7462-1 by a Foundation webcrawler embedded in the Intranet servers of the University of Ghent, Belgium. References to “Alagadda” were cause to investigate. SCP-7462’s effects on the retrieval and initial categorisation team were inadvertently documented by Agent Jan Claessen in his field report. The newly created reinterpretation of Madocke, as seen in the addendum, displays low levels of memetic characteristics, but review while observing the SCP-7462 Containment Procedures does not result in re-activation of SCP-7462. The events leading to the final discovery of Agent Claessen fit available security footage and reports by other personnel. All people present confirm the accuracy of the events, although heavily fictionalised. To date, this is the only documented activation event. Act 1. Prologue Dramatis Personae Agent Anna Dubois; newly in charge and taking the lead. Agent Jan Claessen; a man who hides a spirited need. Dr. Yasmin Merhout; not present just yet, but soon she will join our travelling set. Dr. Martin Cortoys; a scholar with knowledge to depart. ‘tis With him that our story will start. The Agents travel to Belgium, to the University of Ghent, to retrieve Madocke, which holds anomalous content. Facing them is Cortoys, greying and ponderous. He’d seen the vision, the shores of the wonderous. His words, covered by courtly display; let us hear what he has to say! CORTOYS: – still can't believe I got to read it. Truly a remarkable find. DUBOIS: The Middle-Dutch look strangely familiar, but I only half-understand what it says. CORTOYS: Ah! There’s a trick for that! These verses were meant to be spoken or sung. Even reading – a rare skill at the time – was done out loud. All the verses are in rhyme, since that’s easier to remember, but it can also help with the pronunciation. Try reading it out loud! CLAESSEN: The opening lines, which have been redacted For the safety of those who could be affected. CORTOYS: We only know about the author of these two masterpieces by the moniker he gave himself: Willem die Madocke maekte.4 He otherwise disappeared from the pages of history. All that remains are questions and theories. Agent Dubois, she’s learned the trick. A Foundation has been laid, brick by brick. To get what you need, you approach with grace. So there is the smile, painting her face. DUBOIS: Don’t tell me you don’t have an answer. CORTOYS: Well, I certainly wouldn’t say I have the answer, but… Let’s just say you can’t study these texts as intensely as I have without being able to pick up on patterns. Willem was well-read, referencing fables, mythology and other cultural artefacts, as well as employing the expected tropes of the genres, but with a twist. DUBOIS: Twist? CORTOYS: Take his other work, Van den Vos Reynaerde, for example. The cunning fox-baron wasn’t invented by Willem, but he really leaned into the idea of a fox – a common way to depict the devil – with desire and temptation, and the eventual fall of Eden. It fits the corruption of the animal court depicted in the story, and it's why that poem is still a classic today. Similarly, Madocke is a twist on the sea voyage epic to reach Paradise. Who is that shade, who stands to the side? A figure in shadow, a King untied. CORTOYS: It starts with an elder wiseman telling the main character about a faraway Paradise waiting at the other side of the ocean, and instructing him to travel with a specific number of crewmen. As Madocke prepares to leave, three unnamed monks join the crew at the last moment, begging to travel with him to Alagadda and meet its King. As per the trope, Madocke can’t reach Paradise until his crew is back to the original number. Jan Claessen’s shoulders tense as he hears that name. At last, the knowledge for which they came. CLAESSEN: What does it say about Alagadda’s King? CORTOYS: Unsurprisingly, very little. It’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey! Most of the text tells us about the islands that make up Alagadda, presided over by regional rulers in animal masks that represent their sins. As they encounter the four Lords that make up the Noble King’s court, the Latecomers fall one by one – a common theme for the genre. One Latecomer sets off on a different mission, one is wounded and has to be left behind, and one is marked for damnation. DUBOIS: So, the story isn’t really about Alagadda? CORTOYS: In a sense. It's about what Alagadda means to these travellers. Their sins and desires, unmasked! Only then can Madocke reach the King's court and sail home. CLAESSEN: Not exactly Paradise, then. The scholar chuckles as he shakes his head. CORTOYS: The twist is that it is, in a most deceptive way. Nothing can compare to the pleasures of Alagadda. Pleasures you'll never stop craving, desires you'll have to fight until your final breath, or they will eventually choke you. A heaven and hell of your own making. The encounter concludes, and Cortoys is forced to forget. And so, our travellers told Of many wonders to behold On their journey to contain That which should not remain. With their task to control They’ll learn the nature of their soul. They set sail, embark on their travel, A mystery unwinding, a knot to unravel. With the three Latecomers, named again: Dubois, Merhout and Claessen. Act 2. Nigredo They arrive at the isle where the Black Lord resides. The dark cliffs of Nigredo, polished by tides. A city in shadow, a castle forgotten, Watched by a ruler most twisted and rotten. Their subjects caught in endless rivalry, The Black Lord looks down from their tower of ivory. The mask of a Bear, eternal in grin, A desire for power: t'was their greatest sin. Our Latecomers, with the trophy in their hands, travel by car back to the Netherlands. There is one who fits the mask of the Bear. The first Latecomer will leave us here. CLAESSEN: You’ve learned some new tricks since our last field mission. He basically ate out of your hand! I can’t remember teaching you that. DUBOIS: It’s a lot easier to amnestisize someone who trusts you. That was the last lesson Agent Claessen – unknowingly – taught you. CLAESSEN: How is it to leave the ivory tower of EU Command, and work in the lowly backwaters of Nieuwegein? Quite a step down. DUBOIS: Don’t say that, Outpost 312 has potential. CLAESSEN: And a fast track to Directorship for its supervisor once it gets Site status, right? Clever move, Anna. DUBOIS: That’s a cynical way of looking at it. Just because it’s cynical, doesn’t make it untrue. CLAESSEN: I’m just saying I don’t envy you. Directorship would just give me a headache. From where I stand, the world is a lot less complex. Retrieve the weird stuff, and shoot the monsters. DUBOIS: It all takes a toll. CLAESSEN: Nothing I can’t handle. Dubois frowns, but has no retort. She’s noticed his coffee – the Irish sort. DUBOIS: It was good to be back in the field, even temporary. CLAESSEN: First field mission in five years and you’re already done? DUBOIS: Got a meeting in The Hague about the D-Class programme. You can meet up with Dr. Merhout without me, can’t you? CLAESSEN: I’m not sure I can charm my way to an answer the way you can. She feels the strings sewn into her skin. Contort in a smile, pull in a grin. DUBOIS: The man was about to forget his greatest academic achievement. The least I could do was humour him. CLAESSEN: You did that and more. He was about to buy you dinner. So much for a partnership’s chance to restart. DUBOIS: Is there a problem with the way I conduct this investigation, Agent Claessen? CLAESSEN: No, chief. Sorry, chief. A silence between friends, growing apart. CLAESSEN: You’ve changed. No matter how much she wished that was true, She couldn’t lie: deep down she knew. DUBOIS: I haven’t. I just learned how the game is played. The corners of her mouth, pinned in a smile. It hid a desire, a goal most vile. Rotten it is, the desire for might, She’d scheme in the dark, to rule in the light. Act 3. Albedo The Library of Albedo, its ashen stones arise Bright and pure, against darkened skies. The White Lord rules these library halls, Keeps all that is known well within these walls. Masked as a Cat, but one eye lost, – A reminder that knowledge comes at a cost – They wash and they cleanse till all is pure Blind to what their subjects endure. Madocke secured; containment is next! For that, they need to understand its text. Merhout and Claessen will complete this task, and a Latecomer will don the White Cat’s mask. CLAESSEN: It’s memetic, isn’t it? MERHOUT: Actually, that’s an oversimplification, and a useless one at that. Memetics are ideas that spread — any idea. Any unit of cultural information. A scribble, a melody you hum, a catchphrase. Very broad. And of course, the Foundation is just looking at how they move. The Hanged King’s Tragedy being a "memetic virus" is just fancy Foundation speak for a specific kind of anomalous memetic spread using a viral paradigm. It's messy, it's imprecise, it's a general label. It doesn't tell us anything. 701 is just as much a memetic virus as 571, but we don't write essays on the boring perpetual scribble, do we? That's where the development of anomalous hermeneutics provides us with a more predictive framework. CLAESSEN: Do I look like I understood what you just said? Dr. Merhout looks at the man of muscle and force, then chuckles and continues her course. MERHOUT: You look like you’ve lifted more books than you’ve read. Alright, I’ll break it down for you. Ever heard a story that changed your life? And idea or concept that completed your experience of the world, like a puzzle piece that had been missing? Surrounded by folders and binders, by knowledge forbidden. MERHOUT: Imagine that feeling of finally understanding a part of your reality, reimagining it. And now imagine it's anomalous. That's a hermeneutic. A Foundation of facts that's supposed to stay hidden. MERHOUT: Next: what makes it tick. In literary science, "hermeneutics" is concerned with interpretation and meaning. Adaptations, performances, translations, all reworking and remixing the original, often giving a new twist to the original's meaning. So, an anomalous hermeneutic is an anomaly that's activated by, or involved with reinterpretation. Following along, big guy? Jan Claessen nods, a little less confused. MERHOUT: There are two types of hermeneutics: spiral-class and circle-class. Circle hermeneutics concerns itself with a singular response, based on a singular “meaning” of that anomaly. The Hanged King’s Tragedy is a circle-class hermeneutic: if it activates, it incites violence in all affected individuals. The effect, the core meaning of that interpretation, is always violence. CLAESSEN: Don’t some individuals attack bystanders, and others commit suicide? MERHOUT: Interpretation isn’t black and white. If you’re going to be pedantic, you’re going to incite violence in me. They share a moment, both amused. CLAESSEN: Madocke is the other one? MERHOUT: It’s a spiral-class hermeneutic, which means the effect is tailored to the individuals doing the reinterpretation. Same anomalous starting point, but with a new context. It builds a bridge between the receiver and the source, spiralling off a new meaning each time. CLAESSEN: That means that the effects could also differ with each activation? MERHOUT: Possibly. More likely, it’s a new version of wherever that bridge leads to. In this case: does it lead to Madocke, the Kingdom of Alagadda, or its ruling Lords? Will it bring the Hanged King to our world, or us to Alagadda? That’s up for interpretation, which we’re not supposed to do, of course. A figure steps forward, nothing more than a shade. To Dr. Merhout they hand a steel blade. CLAESSEN: And are you really content with not fully knowing the answer, Yasmin? A searcher for knowledge, her desire unshaken. MERHOUT: Never, but that's part of the danger of hermeneutics. They work as much on you as you work on them. I'd give a limb to see what 7462 would turn into if activated. For answers given, something needs to be taken. MERHOUT: But times have changed; we don’t just throw D-Classes at every mystery. There is a price for knowledge like that. She raises the blade close to her face. Both hands keep it steady, keep it in place. MERHOUT: A price in blood. A tribute. With one clear move, her eye is carved out. MERHOUT: The price to pay for knowledge devout. Learning a truth at any cost won’t stop her. MERHOUT: We can pretend to be better, cleaner, more proper. Redact all your crimes, by omission you lie. MERHOUT: Many a time, I’ve turned a blind eye.5 To lose the left half of her sight. All that is left is to see what is right. Act 4. Citrinitas Now they travel through a place that Once Was, The empty wastelands of Citrinitas. The Yellow Lord, their howl made silent. Found their end in a battle so violent. At night Jan remembers, but only in dream: Another person was once part of this team. A former companion, a friend who did fall. You cannot mourn who you cannot recall. There was a fourth, a name erased; torn from the pages by the horror they faced. They thought it was best if your mind was reset. Jan, what's that name you were made to forget? CLAESSEN: Alright, your turn. Biggest fear? Who hears: Being remembered. CLAESSEN: I think you have that backwards, buddy. A soldier's refuge after living full throttle: the howl?: In this line of work? God, no. There are two ways people stick around here, and they're both Scranton. CLAESSEN: You lost me. Forgetting their fears by glass and by bottle. A fate: Scranton's Question, Claessen. You either get remembered for your greatest accomplishment, or a horrific fate. Which Scranton you are going to be, that's the Question. I'm not gonna invent some shiny doodah or revolutionise some kind of anomalous research, which means I'm left with the other outcome: a cautionary tale. CLAESSEN: Your drinking habits already are one. At the end of the day, they got what they wanted. so foul: Pot and kettle, my friend. Nah, I'm just here to do my job and get out. Preferably with a nice retirement, but if it's not in the cards, I'll settle for a forgettable death. My goal is being less than a footnote in the history of the Foundation. CLAESSEN: I'll drink to that. Raise a glass to a wish granted. At times Jan remembers, in dead of night. Fragments and moments, like threads untied. Nothing and no-one is truly gone. But all of it fades at the break of dawn. [You have 2 missed calls from Anna Dubois] [You have 1 new message, which you never saw.] Act 5. Rubedo At long last, our companions arrive At the Wilds of Rubedo, where pleasure can thrive. A place for desire, for need, for want, Ruled by the Red Lord, masked in a taunt. Jan, it is known, you can only be brave, By drinking the courage you so deeply crave. Each day in a Foxhole, each moment moves quicker, If you can taste the relief you find in that liquor. [You have 5 missed calls from Jacqueline Claessen] And all of them voicemails, asking where you’ve been. The answer should come as no surprise: Jan Claessen indulges in a toxic vice. Jan, it is time, complete this narration. Follow the path that leads to damnation. So here you stand, Jan, here you lay, One last Latecomer has to pay. In drink you cannot escape forever, You'll soon pay the price for this very endeavour. Hang, as you may, at the end of your rope, Where one is left with just a fool’s hope You’ll arrive at the Alagaddan shore To drink and forget to feel once more In the court of the once Hanged King – A Ruler made of twine and string. The rope, it twists into His crest. Blessed His mark in crimson nest. Until the tribute is paid in full. Every day you'll feel the pull Of the noose around your neck * * * * * * * * * * * Note: Agent Dubois was alerted something was amiss when several calls from her and Claessen’s wife went unanswered. Agent Jan Claessen was eventually found in his office, lying in a pool of his own blood and holding a steel knife similar to the one used by Dr. Merhout, which he had attempted to use to slash his throat. Due to severe alcohol intoxication, he was unable to complete this task. Agent Claessen was rushed to the hospital and required several blood transfusions. Upon examination, it was discovered the skin of his neck was covered in rope burn. The above SCP-7462 reinterpretation was found among Agent Claessen's files. Further analysis showed minor memetic characteristics in the text, but no hermeneutic effects. Dr. Merhout concluded that Agent Claessen's failure to "pay the tribute" resulted in an interruption of SCP-7462's effects, stopping the hermeneutic bridge from completing. Dr. Merhout completed her review of SCP-7462 after recovery, and retired shortly after due to the sustained injury. 01/NOV/2004 Update: After several months of rehabilitation, Agent Claessen signed up for the Foundation sponsored addiction support group. Footnotes 1. A cognitohazard activated by or resulting from the reinterpretation of an idea or concept. 2. Reusing strips of parchment from obsolete manuscripts and codices in bookbinding was a common practice, and several fragments of medieval literature have been rediscovered by examining these bindings. 3. "Of Reynaerde the Fox", a Middle-Dutch satirical epic about a medieval court of animals who are tricked by the titular Fox to fall to temptation. 4. Opening lines to Van den Vos Reynaerde, transl. “Willem who wrote Madocke” or “Willem who made Madocke”. 5. Dr. Merhout was later found in her office at the University of Utrecht, still holding the steel knife. She was rushed to the hospital to receive emergency care. The left eye could not be located. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7462" by FlyPurgatorio, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7462. 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: Vele Bouke License: Public Domain Mark 1.0 Source Link: Under the button saying Bibliografische Info, in German. Additional Notes: Minor alterations made by FlyPurgatorio. Another version of this picture can be found here. Filename: Red Lord Reyn License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Royal_MS_10_E_IV_fol_49v_Reynard_the_Fox_preaching_to_geese.png Filename: Jim Nightshade License: Open Font License Source Link: https://fonts.google.com/specimen/Jim+Nightshade/about?classification=Handwriting Additional Notes: The font used in the titles. Filename: Medievalsharp License: Open Font License Source Link: https://fonts.google.com/specimen/MedievalSharp?query=medievalsharp&classification=Handwriting Additional Notes: The font used in the headers. Filename: Alagadda lineart.png Author: pab07 License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: LINK Source: Authors own work Filename: Alagadda color.png Author: pab07 License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: LINK Source: Authors own work |
SCP-7464 | safe | close Info X ⚠️ Content warning: This article contains subject matter such as body horror and medical horror related to insects, plant diseases, and other bodily changes. Reader discretion is advised. ⚠️ content warning Item#: 7464 Level2 Containment Class: safe Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: notice link to memo SCP-7464 Special Containment Procedures: Following standard Foundation rural containment procedures, a 2km perimeter around SCP-7464 is to be cleared. A chain link fence is to be erected on the edges of this perimeter, with inspections being subsequently on a bi-yearly basis to ensure the condition of the aforementioned fence. Maintenance of the fence will be done at the discretion of the head researcher. Due to the abundance of corpses within the graveyard that SCP-7464 grows in, it is not expected to exhaust its current food source for several decades. Should the subject be determined to have run out of its supply of its current food source, additional corpses or carcasses are to be procured. Additional Special Containment Procedures (Jan 27, 1965): Due to the slowness of SCP-7464’s means of communication, audio recording devices are to be placed at the “mouths” at the ends of SCP-7464’s arms in order to determine the current word the anomaly is communicating. As the subject’s occasional state of pain precludes it from communicating for weeks to months at a time, special schedules are to be created regarding when and how authorized personnel can communicate with the anomaly. Description: SCP-7464 is an immobile humanoid entity currently growing within an abandoned graveyard, made to assume the shape and functions of a tree. In order to fulfill its role, SCP-7464 has been found to have several unique characteristics: A rounded and cylindrical body mimicking the structure of a tree trunk, with its rib cage being expanded far beyond its normal shape in order to support the subject’s weight. A bark-like outer covering made entirely of hardened human calluses, allowing the subject the ability to resist both blunt and sharp forces. Abnormally elongated legs that dig into the soil in the same way as roots, with specialized bone-eating humanlike mouths within the soles of its feet that allow it to consume corpses below. Two separate esophagi within both legs located between the fibula and tibia bones as well as within an abnormally enlarged femur bone, leading up to the subject’s stomach. An extremely slow metabolism and growth rate which allows SCP-7464 to survive on little food for months at a time Two vertically outstretched arms covered in long, thick, black hair that mimic the structure (but not the function) of leaves or vines. Beginning from December 17, 1964, these arms, unlike their legs, branch at the elbow or the fingers. This allows more arms to grow in their place. Hands with humanlike mouths located on the surfaces of their palms. Unlike the mouths located on the anomaly’s legs, these mouths only seem to possess the ability to allow the anomaly to breathe. Two separate tracheae within both arms that connect the mouths on the surfaces of their palms to the anomaly’s extremely large lungs. Both tracheae lack vocal cords, rendering SCP-7464 incapable of normal speech. Two extremely small ears on either side of the anomaly’s “face”. Two large, bloodshot eyes on the anterior surface of the anomaly’s trunk. A large “facial” mouth, sewn shut with a thin vine-like thread1 Aside from its unique tree-like characteristics, it has been determined that SCP-7464 possesses much the same physiology and anatomy as a normal human. As demonstrated within Addendum 7464.1, SCP-7464 is capable of feeling pain, often quivering, tearing up, or crying in response to branching limbs, burrowing termites, or other conditions. SCP-7464’s eyes are also capable of slowly following researchers who lapse into its field of vision, implying basic animalistic sentience. However, its sapience is yet to be proven. (see Addendum 7464.1) Addendum 7464.1: The following log contains a summary of events and discoveries related to SCP-7464 beginning from its discovery to the present day. For ease of use, communication-related events are highlighted in blue and damage-related events are highlighted in red. October 12, 1964: SCP-7464 is discovered growing at a remote cemetery within a remote graveyard near the abandoned village of Sao Antonio in the state of Mato Grosso do Sul, Brazil. A 2km fence perimeter is erected around the subject by the Brazilian branch of the Foundation. November 4, 1964: SCP-7464’s breathing is heard getting louder, but no special note is made of it. December 17, 1964: SCP-7464’s right upper arm begins to branch at the elbow. A smaller, infant-like hand is seen emerging at the wrist. SCP-7464’s eyes are first seen tearing up. December 24, 1964: The mouth of the new emerging arm opens for the first time. All mouths begin to exhale at 30 decibels2, well above the normal exhalation decibel level of 10. December 31, 1964: SCP-7464 begins to occasionally quiver. January 3, 1965: The new arm continues to grow. However, unlike its counterparts, it grows downwards opposite the direction of the subject’s arm. January 18, 1965: A researcher sees a small but growing termite nest on the subject’s right underarm, eating away at the wood-like calluses of SCP-7464’s skin. SCP-7464 continues to exhale at 30 decibels. January 20, 1965: SCP-7464 is heard continuously making an “h” sound as it exhales in a manner similar to whispering. January 27, 1965: SCP-7464 shifts sounds from an “h” to an “e”. Special note is made of this, with audio recording devices being set up beside SCP-7464’s mouth to best observe any other changes. January 30, 1965: SCP-7464 shifts sounds to an “l” sound. February 1, 1965: SCP-7464 shifts sounds to an “p” sound. February 3, 1965: SCP-7464 shifts sounds to an “m” sound. February 4, 1965: SCP-7464 shifts sounds to an “ee” sound. The words “HELP ME." are discerned. February 10, 1965: SCP-7464 is redefined as sapient, but unable to communicate effectively. After formulating a response with his team, Head Researcher Campos asks SCP-7464 what it is. February 11, 1965: SCP-7464 begins to form an “a” sound. February 19, 1965: SCP-7464 shifts sounds to an “m” sound. February 24, 1965: SCP-7464 shifts sounds to an “a" sound. March 2, 1965: SCP-7464 shifts sounds to an “n” sound. The words “A MAN.” are discerned. March 3, 1965: The termite nest within SCP-7464’s right underarm continues to eat away at SCP-7464’s skin. March 4, 1965: Head Researcher Campos asks SCP-7464 what happened to it. March 5, 1965: SCP-7464 begins to form an “a” sound. March 7, 1965: SCP-7464 shifts sounds to an “c” sound. March 8, 1965: The termites eat past SCP-7464’s epidermis and begin to chew on its dermis. Blood is seen flowing from the wound. March 9, 1965: SCP-7464 shifts sounds to an “a” sound. March 12, 1965: SCP-7464 continues to emit an “a” sound. March 15, 1965: SCP-7464 continues to emit an “a” sound. It seemingly refuses to shift sounds any further. Campos’ team attempts to find a reason as to why. March 16, 1965: Junior researcher Almeida suggests that “It’s trying to scream.” March 17, 1965: A plan is made to remove the termites from SCP-7464’s skin. A boric acid solution was considered, but ultimately discounted due to the perceived risk to SCP-7464’s health3. A Dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane (DDT) solution was applied instead. March 19, 1965: SCP-7464 continues to scream. March 20, 1965: First application deemed insufficiently effective. Termites are hypothesized to have burrowed under SCP-7464’s skin. More blood is seen flowing from the wound. March 22, 1965: Second application of DDT solution made. March 25, 1965: Solution deemed insufficiently effective. Small parts of SCP-7464’s skin near the original underarm area is seen bulging. SCP-7464’s wound is deemed to be at risk for infection. March 27, 1965: Deeming that there was no other choice, a boric acid solution was sprayed onto the termite infestation within SCP-7464’s skin. March 28, 1965: Blisters develop on the sprayed area. SCP-7464’s “screaming” begins to move down to 10 decibels. March 29, 1965: SCP-7464 is unresponsive. Its body temperature is elevated from 36 degrees Celsius to 38 degrees Celsius. March 30, 1965: Termite corpses begin to slowly fall out of SCP-7464’s wound. April 1, 1965: SCP-7464 remains unresponsive. Its body temperature slowly begins to fall to 36 degrees Celsius. April 7, 1965: SCP-7464 continues to remain unresponsive. Its eyes remain open. April 9, 1965: The falling of termite corpses from SCP-7464’s wound ceases. April 12, 1965: SCP-7464 is deemed to be catatonic. April 29, 1965: Another hand is seen growing from SCP-7464’s left elbow. June 17, 1965: The arm beneath the newly grown hand begins to fully emerge. Another hand is seen sprouting from the wrist of the first. January 2, 1966: SCP-7464 continues to grow. More branches are seen emerging from its wrists and elbows. April 7, 1966: One of SCP-7464’s fingers from its original right hand begins to slowly wither in a manner similar to gangrene. September 26, 1966: The withering has spread to almost all of SCP-7464’s fingers. Its left hand begins to show the same withering. May 3, 1968: Both of SCP-7464’s original hands become dried husks, with the shape of the fingerbones underneath becoming wrapped by blackened skin. Meanwhile, more of SCP-7464’s newly-grown hands continue to branch. January 3, 1972: SCP-7464 continues to grow and branch out. However, it begins to bend anteriorly as it does so. More of its older hands and arms begin to wither. September 4, 1975: SCP-7464’s anterior bend corrects itself, giving its trunk a crooked shape as it grows upwards. May 28, 1983: SCP-7464’s withered branches begin to fall off. October 6, 1987: A bird lands on one of SCP-7464’s withered hands. It begins to build a nest from its withered fingers. October 9, 1987: SCP-7464 begins to cry. October 30, 1987: On a routine visit by Head Researcher Almeida, SCP-7464’s eyes move for the first time in decades. November 4, 1987: SCP-7464 is heard making an “k” sound. November 6, 1987: SCP-7464 shifts to making an “u” sound. November 9, 1987: At the direction of Site Director Campos, Head Researcher Almeida begins to note the shifts in the sounds that the subject makes. November 14, 1987: SCP-7464 shifts to making an “r” sound. December 2, 1987: SCP-7464 shifts to making an “ss” sound. The words "CURSE.” are discerned. Head Researcher Almeida concludes that this is SCP-7464’s answer to the last question asked of it. December 3, 1987: Head Researcher Almeida asks SCP-7464 what cursed it. December 4, 1987: SCP-7464 is seen pulling the edges of its mouth in a slight smile. It begins to tear up. December 7, 1987: SCP-7464 is heard making a “th” sound. December 8, 1987: A woodpecker lands on one of SCP-7464’s branches. It begins to burrow into SCP-7464’s trunk. SCP-7464 is seen slightly quivering, but continues to speak. December 18, 1987: SCP-7464 shifts to making an “e” sound. December 19, 1987: Root rot begins to manifest on SCP-7464’s left leg. It rapidly withers the leg. SCP-7464 continues to speak. December 25, 1987: SCP-7464 continues making an "e" sound. December 26, 1987: The hair on SCP-7464’s arms begin to fall out, leaving behind bald spots. The subject continues to speak. December 31, 1987: SCP-7464 shifts to making an “t” sound. January 1, 1988: The woodpecker penetrates SCP-7464’s hardened skin and begins burrowing into its flesh. SCP-7464’s eyes become bloodshot, but it continues to speak. January 5, 1988: SCP-7464 shifts to making an “r” sound. January 6, 1988: Tree fungi begins to manifest on SCP-7464’s right eyeball. The subject continues to speak. January 10, 1988: SCP-7464 shifts to making an “ee” sound. January 11, 1988: A large flock of birds begin to land on SCP-7464’s branches, breaking off both withered and healthy fingers and arms. SCP-7464 quivers violently, but continues to speak. January 17, 1988: SCP-7464 continues to make an “ee” sound. January 18, 1988: The vines sewing SCP-7464’s facial mouth shut begin to shorten, ripping parts of its lips and causing blood to flow down from its face. SCP-7464 continues to speak. January 22, 1988: SCP-7464 finishes by making an “s” sound. The words (“THE TREES.”) are discerned. Update (Jan 23, 1988): Using the new technology of DNA testing, Foundation researchers extracted a sample from SCP-7464 in order to discern its identity within the organization’s database. A definitive match was made with Mr. John Pereira, a Brazilian-American lumber mogul last seen on October 1, 1964. He disappeared while surveying a part of the Amazon rainforest for land clearing. Footnotes 1. This remains the only instance of SCP-7464 possessing any normal plant-based characteristics. 2. The decibel equivalent of a human whisper 3. Boric acid is a caustic solution, with symptoms of boric acid poisoning including seizures, fevers, and a lack of responsiveness. |
SCP-7465 | euclid | close Info X Contains mentions of suicide. Item #: SCP-7465 Special Containment Procedures: References to the anomaly have been censored from public records. Description: SCP-7465 is a presence which exists in the basement of a large warehouse in Concho, Ohio, U.S. Despite lacking a physical form, SCP-7465 has a strong influence on physical reality. This is most evident in the minds of its victims, but it also permeates the surrounding area and can be measured using standard omen-reading tools. SCP-7465 is sentient and possibly sapient. Its exact motives are unknown, but for the purposes of the SCP Foundation, SCP-7465 acts out of a hatred for human life. It is unknown how or why SCP-7465 chooses its victims. No decision mechanism has been found; victims have come from different countries, economic backgrounds, and psychological states with no common link between any of them. When a victim is chosen, a slow and inescapable process of anomalous imprinting begins. This manifests in a unique way with each one: a mother in her early forties began experiencing episodes of catastrophic doom several times a week where she would see a "black wall, a black black black black wall of fear" surrounding her apartment. A young university student suffered a nervous breakdown in one of his classes and later took an extended leave of absence. He returned to live with his family before succumbing to SCP-7465's influence the following month. The student's sister then fell victim to SCP-7465 herself. She expressed its influence with a series of five-hundred abstract drawings using pencil and drawing paper before her death. At a certain point, most often a month after exposure, the victim will decide to travel to Concho. They can be and often are talked out of this initially by friends or family, but their decision is final, regardless of outside effort. If the victim lives close enough to Concho, they may attempt to drive or take some form of public transportation to the city. Poorer victims or those who don't own a car may hitchhike or even walk if the journey is not too unreasonable. If the victim lives further away or has no reasonable method of travel, they will create one. The most notable example of this was a teenage girl from El Salvador who, on the eve of her nineteenth birthday, sold all of her belongings, abandoned her family, and bought a one-way plane ticket to Cleveland before hitchhiking to Concho. An experience all documented victims of SCP-7465 share is their interest in the journey expanding the longer it takes for them to complete it. While it may begin only as a mild obsession — minor when compared to similar anomalies catalogued by the SCP Foundation — it will slowly grow in the victim's mind until it becomes an integral part of their sense of self. They will become reliant on it. Many feel an intense need to create monuments to the journey1 or document themselves in some way, believing that they can only introspect when relating their experiences to SCP-7465, Concho, or the basement in some way. The victim will often reference the journey in works of art or school assignments or diary entries, even when it makes little sense to do so. All art created by victims will become large-scaled: a poor painter in New Zealand covered all of their canvases with the phrase "Not enough food for me", written in an extremely small font with white paint. They continued writing it on the walls, the floor, and the ceiling of their home over the course of three days. By their own estimate, they had written the phrase over three-hundred thousand times, covering most of the nearby street before they were discovered. The victim will become overwhelmed by emotion when they reach Concho. They will be unable to move or speak, or if they can speak, they will ramble in an uncontrolled manner. Pessimism is a common symptom, as well as a sudden lack of care for personal safety. Victims may experience episodes of intense rage, a common source of their anger being a fear of destruction: destruction of themselves, of the things or people around them, of the world at large. These feelings can last up to one full day but will always fade into a deep acceptance. The victim will overcome a great mental obstacle at this point. It may be anything from a past trauma to recent emotional troubles — the exact obstacle does not seem to matter other than it exists, the victim cares for it, and it is overcome. Once this happens, the victim's death is imminent. The victim, sometimes on their own and sometimes with the accompaniment of a friend, will travel to the building where SCP-7465 resides. They will then enter the basement alone and, using a thin piece of fabric, a cord, their belt or some other sturdy material, hang themselves until dead on the pipes that run along the ceiling. The entire process occurs to five individuals a year on average. Testing on SCP-7465 has been slow. Many researchers have refused to work on the anomaly, and those who do often leave within two or three years. Exiting staff note a common feeling which drove them to quit: a strong, angry, almost humiliating sense of shame which persists for months after. Footnotes 1. The term 'monument' here is important. Victims specifically use this term quite often when describing their creations. Notably, while this term suggests a kind of religious devotion, victims have thus far never referred to SCP-7465 as a deity or treated it in that way. Instead, they think of it as a neutral presence in their lives, a kind of omniscient bystander. Further analysis is ongoing. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7465" by redredred, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7465. 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-7466 | euclid | close Info X SCP-7466: Ethereal Canvas Author: Barbarous Bread ⚠️ Content warning: This article contains brief implications of suicide. ⚠️content warning ↑ by Barbarous_Bread Item#: 7466 Level2 Containment Class: euclid Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: notice link to memo Two immature SCP-7466 detected near the Site-53 Observatory. Special Containment Procedures Given their small population and localized breeding grounds, it is unlikely that members of the public will inadvertently discover SCP-7466 or their creations. If this does occur, Site-53 security forces are to retrieve the individual(s) and amnesticize them. They may then be released at the nearest roadway or access point. Regular patrols are to be conducted of known SCP-7466 territory to monitor their population and activity levels. Publicly available satellite imagery of region is to be manipulated and geographical studies of this area are to be restricted to minimize risk of exposing the existence of SCP-7466. Description SCP-7466 are spectral entities that meticulously re-create various objects out of available materials. Their current population is 68 and they occupy a small, remote area near Site-53. As these entities have only been found in the desert, they have been seen using a variety of native elements such as sand, gravel, clay, flora, and fauna. As SCP-7466 develop, they display advanced skill in mimicry of both natural and man-made structures. Example of SCP-7466 construction resembling the Site-53 Observatory. SCP-7466 utilize telekinetic abilities to modify their environment in order to entice a partner, behavior similar to that of some non-anomalous animals..For example, male white-spotted pufferfish (Torquigener albomaculosus) create and decorate intricate circular nests to attract mates. Individual SCP-7466 will craft objects in clusters to display to potential mates. These objects, while far from simplistic, demonstrate only the early developments of their abilities. SCP-7466 will periodically evaluate the objects constructed by others using an unknown metric. Should two instances be satisfied with one another's work, they will then bond for life. Following successful coupling, the two SCP-7466 will begin a collaborative endeavor which will last until their deaths..SCP-7466 instances typically live 12-15 years. These large-scale projects involve manipulating the landscape in a way that their additions appear congruent with pre-existing features of the region. SCP-7466 utilize minute, progressive changes to the area to achieve this effect. These projects serve no known purpose [Update: See Addendum 7466.1]. Addendum 7466.1: Survey Expedition As SCP-7466 were deemed to pose no threat, Junior Researcher David Carlyle was tasked with surveying the population of SCP-7466 and to observe them at various stages in their lifespan. BEGIN LOG 27 JUL 2019 Today I began by following the two SCP-7466 that were found near the Site-53 Observatory. I was able to find an area with 15 entities each appearing to be juveniles. They are engaging in simplistic behaviors such as meandering through the desert or manipulating the desert's surface to form illustrations. While these are rudimentary in terms of their full capabilities, they still express an intuitive understanding of complex geometry. Before me are fractal patterns extending for dozens of meters, diagrams of celestial movements, and I believe one of them took note of me as it seems to be re-creating my face in the dirt. 29 JUL 2019 They do not rest nor do they appear to require sustenance. Each moment is spent seeking out things to create. I've found scores of various things that they've made, but unfortunately the small or superficial ones are prone to degradation so we may never know how much they have created. The ones that do remain are beautiful. I may not be an artist, but I can appreciate the craft. There are almost 40 of the entities here. From my vantage point along this bluff, there is a field of objects that they've made: vehicles, animals, cacti, towers of intricate and interwoven spirals at least 30 meters tall. Some complete and many in progress. The young are scurrying about the objects finding materials to add to their own. A branch, a stone, pieces of dilapidated creations — all repurposed into something new, something of their own. I've seen a few of the entities who have examined each other's portfolio of sophisticated re-creations. Some simply return back to their own areas, while others pair up and then withdraw from this area together. 03 AUG 2019 There are few elder entities in this area. Exploring on foot makes finding them harder as they seek isolated locations in the desert to work on massive collaborative projects. I've seen them in the process of building up mountains, excavating canyons, expanding rivers, and boring out cave systems. Their choices and placement of building materials seem to indicate a desire for these to appear as though they were natural, that they belong. Two mature SCP-7466. Colorized areas indicate alterations that SCP-7466 have made to the environment. Detected via measurement of Mansfield-Pitt Radiation indicative of physical manipulation by spectral entities. 01 SEP 2019 After being out here for over a month, I have considered where these beings come from many times. I believe that I have discovered the answer. I'll bring it back to the site in the next few days. I've taken a particular interest in a pair of the beings. I've stayed with them exclusively for the past three weeks. They were near death. I assumed as much due to their decreased activity and radiance. Their deaths were like that of a star: they collided and then collapsed upon themselves. They then exploded scattering throughout the region. Each stone, each grain of sand, everything that they've touched was riddled with the remains of its designer. That was three days ago. Today everything that was imbued with those remnants began to shimmer in a vibrant white. These particles began to coalesce into a myriad of shapes upon the earth. The shapes then merged along captivating spirals to a few separate spaces. As each shape formed their final arrangements, they lifted from the soil. Each one a new entity. Three of them scurrying about newly formed and eager to carry on their progenitor's legacy. Addendum 7466.2: Recovered Journal During the later portion of Dr. David Carlyle's expedition, he made camp at a dilapidated structure that appeared to be a residence at one point. Its walls were covered in illustrations and compositions in various stages of deterioration. A grave marker was noted behind the building with the name "David" carved into it. Next to the grave was a decayed corpse with what appeared to be self-inflicted injuries to its arms. Photos below show the building's interior and the grave site. Dr. Carlyle recovered a journal from this building and digitized the last entry: These years at your side have been the greatest of my life. Your mind and creativity made me feel that the world was worth living in, even if you felt that it wasn't. We ran here to escape the people who shunned us, but you couldn't run away from the darkness inside. God knows you tried. I miss your touch, your breath against my neck as we danced under the stars. Now you are buried beneath those same stars. I sit here content with the thought that I will soon join you. Each day feels longer, emptier. I can't wake up any longer without seeing your face resting next to me. Your eyes looking into my soul. I will paint once more so that the world won't forget your beauty. So that I can see you one last time. Then we can be together, my beloved, creating for eternity. Photo of Structure Interior Photo of Structure Interior Overhead Photo of Grave Site Overhead Photo of Grave Site More by Barbarous_Bread More by Barbarous_Bread SCPs: Item # Rating Comments SCP-5414 + 53 8 SCP-6252 + 33 8 SCP-6680 + 29 9 SCP-6855 + 28 1 SCP-7252 + 65 18 SCP-7826 + 24 3 SCP-7466 + 18 5 Tales: Item # Rating Comments I Dream of Trains + 13 0 ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7466" by Barbarous Bread, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7466. 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: Critters (Modified by Barbarous Bread) Name: Sechura Desert (also Nazca Desert) Author: A. Duarte License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: Castle (Modified and combined by Barbarous Bread) Name: Sand Castle, Mission Beach Author: Gary J. Wood License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Name: Nevada Desert Author: Tela Chhe License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: Canyon (Modified by Barbarous Bread) Name: Desert View Grand Canyon 3 Author: Tony Hisgett License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: Wall (Modified and combined by Barbarous Bread) Name: Peeling Paint On Wood Board Author: L.C. Nøttaasen License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Name: Giorgio Agamben painted portrait _DDC0720 Author: thierry ehrmann License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: Grave (Modified and combined by Barbarous Bread) Name: Fractal Modular Star Author: Kerstin License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Name: Starry Spin-up Author: European Southern Observatory (ESO) License: CC BY 4.0 Source Link: Wikipedia Name: Aerial Sand Author: Jason Schuller License: CC 0 Source Link: StockSnap |
SCP-7467 | keter | Don’t let the flame die out. Item#: 7467 Level4 Containment Class: keter Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: ekhi Risk Class: danger link to memo Illustrated depiction of Homo sapiens cobolorumius Special Containment Procedures: All available Foundation surveillance drones are to locate and track GoI-7467 (“The Goblin Gang”). Mobile Task Force Chi-37 (“Goblin Slayers”) has been formed to prevent further GoI-7467 attacks, to detain the members of the GoI, and to reclaim SCP-7467, which has been acquired by the GoI. Witnesses of SCP-7467 are to be amnesticized and all available media outlets are to disseminate appropriate cover stories to news media. While the effects produced by SCP-7467 are temporary, individuals affected by SCP-7467 are to be quarantined until anomalous effects cease, as these individuals are still a danger to the civilian population. Following the cessation of these effects, affected individuals are to be administered Class-A amnestics and released back into the civilian population. Locating SCP-7467 is of top priority. Description: SCP-7467 is an eigenweapon1 that contains three chambers that hold three separate cartridges of ammunition. This ammunition can alter the fabric of reality through three separate means. The first chamber carries ammunition that can alter certain aspects of an individual and how they function. It achieves this by penetrating a small, almost imperceptible hole into the noosphere2, and changing the individual thoughts, perceptions, and personality of the target to those primarily associated with the species Homo sapiens cobolorumius.3 The effect can last for up to fourteen days. These changes include: Decreased intelligence Increased erratic behavior The desire to provoke violence and encourage mischief The desire to carry explosive devices Rejection of social norms or expectations Rejection of apprehension for one’s self-image The desire to tear one’s clothes off and make abnormal vocalizations The desire to make questionable decisions The second chamber carries ammunition that, when striking a target, increases or decreases Hume levels rapidly in a ten meter diameter area of reality. How SCP-7467 uses this mechanism without malfunctioning and altering itself or the user is unknown, as the ammunition that carries this ability should not have the capacity and capability to alter reality. The effect lasts for two hours before reverting reality to its standard state. The third chamber carries ammunition that is essentially a chaotohazard.4 When striking a target, nothing occurs initially, but once the target makes a small decision, that decision can lead to absurd, disastrous, and potentially fatal consequences, regardless of the decision made and the correlation between decision and consequence. For instance, buying a shoe in a thrift store in the United States could result in an earthquake in Taiwan. Discovery: SCP-7467 was discovered on January 2022, when a former employee of Prometheus Labs turned himself in to the Ross County Police Department, Ohio, USA. When interrogated, the individual identified himself as Richard Wagner and informed police of his construction of SCP-7467 and the approximate location of the object. A Foundation employee embedded in the department informed his superiors of the object, and it was successfully acquired by an MTF and transferred to Site-35. Richard Wagner had also informed police of a colleague that had worked on the project extensively with him, and was the one who designed the original weapon. The colleague was identified as Cornelius Neugebauer III, who is supposedly a resident of Ohio, however, extensive searching of the Foundation’s database and in official Ohioan documentation has revealed that no such person has ever been a citizen of Ohio. Investigation into the identity of Cornelius Neugebauer is ongoing. Before Wagner could be interviewed by the Foundation for further intel on the object and other objects of Prometheus Labs, he was inexplicably missing from his cell. Analysis of surveillance footage in the facility shows multiple imperceptible forces grabbing Wagner and dragging him throughout the prison and toward the exit. The identity of this group was initially unknown, however, subsequent analysis of the initial abduction and other similar incidents reveal the perpetrators to be GoI-7467. ADDENDUM-7467-1: INCIDENT 7467-1 The following incident was recorded by CCTV surveillance inside Site-35 on 15/5/22. The footage contains information on GoI-7467’s initial break-in and subsequent acquisition of SCP-7467 and is transcribed below. 13:51: A supply truck pulls into the site’s garage. The driver opens the back of the truck and carries three large boxes and places them on the floor. He then enters the site with the relevant credentials and heads to the nearest bathroom. 13:55: The front of one of the boxes is cut open from the inside by a large knife. Three members of GoI-7467 tumble out of the box and begin expressing various profanities at each other. One of the goblins puts a finger in the front of their mouth to silence the others and begins to slowly tiptoe their way to the entrance of the site. 13:59: Three more goblins not previously seen exit the bathroom, one of them swiping what appears to be skin off of their brow. One goblin protests the idea of disguising as a human, citing a cramped space, the poor quality of the pig skin used making the disguise not effective, and having to constantly smell the stench of rotting flesh. The other goblins wave them off, telling them to focus on the mission. The goblins then put on transparent cloaks that make them imperceptible by sight, and begin to run through the hallways. 14:08: The first set of goblins from the garage enter a security checkpoint, and begin to provide a distraction for the unseen goblins as they pass through security undetected and close the doors behind them. The guards are eventually incapacitated. 14:14: The concealed goblins enter the sealed containment chamber for SCP-7467, and quickly incapacitate the patrolling guards before they are able to activate the alarm. The goblins remove their cloaks and begin to attempt to decode the password for the vault door by looking for clues and making guesses as to what the password is. When this attempt fails, one of the goblins places an explosive device near the door and lights the fuse, setting off an explosion that completely demolishes the door. The goblins take SCP-7467 and quickly exit the containment wing. 14:21: The goblins activate SCP-7467 several times, causing extensive damage to several sections of the site. Multiple site security personnel attempt to impede the goblins’ progress, however, they are struck by SCP-7467 and begin to crawl on all fours and howl. 14:23: As the goblins pass the site cafeteria, they shift SCP-7467 to its third cartridge, and fire at site psychologist Dr. Michael Prescott. Dr. Prescott does not notice the assault and begins to take another bite of his sandwich. As he does so, all of the humanoid containment chambers in the site open automatically, causing a mass containment breach. Fortunately, most if not all of the humanoid anomalies contained within the site are undergoing rehabilitation as the site is mostly a psychiatric center, and so they are cooperative with the Foundation. Those that are hostile do not pose a threat and are eventually contained. 14:26: The site undergoes a lockdown. As the doors to the garage seal, the goblins shift to the second cartridge, and fire at the sealed doors. The Hume levels begin to decrease, causing the doors to cease to exist. All of the goblins reconvene, enter the truck, and exit the site. Analysis of the footage above confirms the perpetrators to be GoI-7467. How they were able to infiltrate a high-security site by plainly entering through the side entrance without being checked by security is unclear, as is how they were able to incapacitate multiple highly-trained security personnel. No casualties were reported, and the major damage done to the site reverted after two hours. The search for GoI-7467 is ongoing. ADDENDUM-7467-2: INITIAL INTERVIEW The following is an interview between Security Officer Blake and PoI-7467-1 (“Cornelius Neugebauer III”). It contains important information regarding GoI-7467, the creation of SCP-7467, and extensive details regarding the mechanics of SCP-7467. Interviewed: Cornelius Neugebauer III Interviewer: Security Officer Emily Blake <Begin Log> BLAKE: State your name for the record, please. CORNELIUS: For your records, my name is Cornelius Goblinado von Musel Kowalski de Neugebauer III, but you can just call me Cornelius. BLAKE: Right. So, Mr. Neugebauer, do you know why you are here with us today? CORNELIUS: It’s about the weapon, isn’t it? BLAKE: Correct, Mr. Neugebauer. We wish to know more about this particular weapon known as SCP-7467, how you’d come to construct it, and of course, how it has come into the hands of an extremist group that plans to do unspeakable things to our people. CORNELIUS: I figured that would come up, considering my… history. BLAKE: You know it all too well. CORNELIUS: In retrospect, I never should have built that weapon. If you are here for retribution, then so be it. I deserve all of it. BLAKE: Mr. Neugebauer, we are not here to punish you. That is not necessary. I am only asking you a few questions relevant to the ongoing situation, and then we can discuss our options when we get there. Sounds good? CORNELIUS: That is fine with me. BLAKE: Great. First up, how did this all start? What was the exact purpose for this object’s creation? This seems like a weapon too dangerous for even Prometheus’ standards, so I am curious to hear how exactly this went down. CORNELIUS: As Richard had told the police already, it was my idea. I was a part of the group known as the Goblin Gang, but we weren’t really a ‘gang’. At least, not originally. BLAKE: Really? Say, what was your group originally? CORNELIUS: It’s simple, really. We were a group who advocated for our rights as goblins. Peacefully, of course. We wanted to share our grievances with the world, but then you showed up and amnesticized our ticket to freedom. BLAKE: Mr. Neugebauer, you should know by now that we could never let that happen. Everyone could see you. You almost caused a major breach of secrecy, and that little incident caused a lot of headaches for the higher-ups. CORNELIUS: I knew the risks of alerting your Foundation, madam, but I had to do it. These people are afraid of something that hasn’t affected them in the slightest. CORNELIUS: We can be a mischievous bunch, sure, but not to the point of malice. We don’t blow people up out of the blue. We don’t raze your homes and steal valuable items. We are good engineers, some of us scholars, construction workers, just normal folk that go through our lives normally like you do, but there is something that is keeping us apart. CORNELIUS: We are shown in your popular culture as weak, incompetent, mindless drones working for some dark lord so that you can prove that we can be squashed. We are only a bunch of rancid, destructive, and ultimately harmless beasts to you. There is a clear, inherent disparity between you and me, but we cannot reveal this harsh truth, for your fear of wanton destruction and violent outbreaks between both the paranatural and the surface world leads our oppressors to crush our necks without consequence, and is frankly a paranoid and condemnatory decision. BLAKE: Mr. Neugebauer, this little tangent isn’t necessary. We need to keep the veil closed and protect it so that our world and your world can both be safe. You have free ports so that you can be protected from the people who will cut you down. We are not bending a knee to a specific ideology or country. We have more important matters than that. CORNELIUS: Your veil will not protect you or us from anything. It keeps the outgroup from the ingroup. That’s why I marched down Washington that day. I had to end it, no matter what it took. But you are still adding more fuel to the fire. BLAKE: And you tried to smother the fire, which didn’t evidently work, and now we have what’s left of that disaster running around, doing the things that you claim are not true. CORNELIUS: I had gone into hiding because you were still searching for me. What you see today was my doing. My actions alone led to all of this. BLAKE: And how does Wagner fit into this? CORNELIUS: I walked into their doors in ‘97. Even before the incident, Prometheus was on their last legs. Their original vision was squashed. What once was a pioneer in the development of paranatural technology for the benefit of mankind became nothing more than a weapons manufacturer. BLAKE: They had classified contracts to manufacture weapons for worldwide militaries since the beginning. CORNELIUS: Of course, but before then, they were a lot more than that, and now those contracts were the only thing that they had left. CORNELIUS: I came up to Richard, disguised as a MC&D liaison. Once I released my disguise and explained the situation, he understood my plight, as his daughter had come out as transgender two years earlier. CORNELIUS: There are many like me, lonely souls searching for a better tomorrow. We each want to be heard, to be recognized not as an enemy but as an equal, the same as the people above us, regardless of differences. I realized that we, the people at the bottom, can rise together and stand against the people pushing us down, even if we are doing it for different reasons. BLAKE: And I assume that Wagner realized the same thing? CORNELIUS: He had his reasons as well. He wanted to make sure that there was no way in hell that anyone was going to take his daughter away from him. CORNELIUS: And so, we began construction. BLAKE: Well then, Mr. Neugebauer, I’d like to thank you for providing me with the necessary context so far. But what I want now is the how. What are the exact mechanics of this thing? How did you manage to create a weapon so destructive that you had to penetrate a hole into another plane of existence entirely? CORNELIUS: Good question. Which function do you want to start on first? BLAKE: How about the personality changer? CORNELIUS: Yes. That. BLAKE: It’s a real head scratcher that you wanted your opponents to make a fool of themselves involuntarily instead of, you know, actually harming them in some way, as a normal weapon should. CORNELIUS: I do not wish to harm innocent people. I wanted to show them that the way we think isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes, you might just need to let yourself go and let the true, unbridled you out. It’s very calming, trust me. BLAKE: But I guess you forgot about the consent factor? CORNELIUS: Correct. I didn’t think of it until after it was done. The noosphere is a big old mess of concepts bleeding from other spheres and ideas that make us what we are, but I discovered that if you can untangle the strings, you can find an individual string and change a part of that person’s string. CORNELIUS: Maybe I was letting my anger get the best of me, but I took it too far nonetheless. Us scientists are always preoccupied with whether we could do something, but we never sit down and stop to ask if we should do that thing. BLAKE: I guess that’s why the reality bending was the easy part, then? CORNELIUS: Prometheus already had many technologies that delved into the field of ontokinetics. The only problem was keeping the weapon stable while disrupting the reality in front of you, but we made it work. BLAKE: And the last function? CORNELIUS: Have you ever heard of chaos theory? BLAKE: Not particularly, no. CORNELIUS: It describes the underlying patterns of the apparent randomness of chaotic complex systems, particularly the point where stability moves to instability or order moves to disorder. CORNELIUS: The Butterfly Effect is an often used example of this theory. One small action in one state can make a huge difference for a later state. A butterfly flapping its wings can cause a hurricane on the other side of the world. BLAKE: And you found something pertaining to this? CORNELIUS: Yes. The chaotohazards. Unlike most of the hazards that you’ve seen, these exist in many deterministic nonlinear systems, where if found they can cause disastrous results of an unprecedented and unpredictable scale. CORNELIUS: I found and harnessed these hazards, and put them as the last and final function in the weapon. BLAKE: This weapon in general seems very dangerous if you only wanted to prove your opponents wrong. It makes them look like they're right about you. CORNELIUS: I was blind to my arrogance. I wanted to inspire others into taking the charge as I have done, but I didn’t realize that what I did was not going to prove anything. All I could do with that thing was slaughter your people like lambs. But now it’s in the hands of a movement that I built from the ground up, twisted into an unrecognizable form twenty-four years later. BLAKE: It’s not exactly unrecognizable. CORNELIUS: What are you implying? BLAKE: The current figurehead of this GoI might be very familiar to you. Blake pulls out a picture of an middle-aged goblin and places it on the table. BLAKE: Do you know who this is? CORNELIUS: No. It can’t be. BLAKE: We printed this still from a video recorded a few hours ago from a surveillance camera in the exterior of the Chase Bank in New York. This ‘Ulysses’ melted all the gold in there into slag. We have confirmed this familiar face to be the leader of GoI-7467. CORNELIUS: I thought he was taken. I thought he was put in a cell! He’s still out there? BLAKE: Yes, and he has your weapon, and most likely a plan to cripple our species and ruin many lives. That’s why we brought you here. BLAKE: We need your expertise on 7467 and the prior knowledge of Ulysses and the GoI in general in order to stop them. We need 7467 back before it’s too late. CORNELIUS: I cannot meet him again. Not after what he did to my family. He is a danger to us all. BLAKE: We’re not letting you go out to meet him by yourself. We have an experienced MTF joining you in the fight. We will not let harm come to you. We just need some advice and a little helping hand. Pun not intended. CORNELIUS: He’s smarter than you think. A full MTF coming full speed at him won’t do anything. He knows exactly how to stop you, which is why the raid at your site was so successful in the first place. BLAKE: That is also why we need you to solve that problem. You want that weapon out of the wrong hands? Now’s the time. CORNELIUS: If we are both willing to get rid of that thing, I might consider it. Just as long as you promise me that we get it out of his hands before he does the inevitable. If I am right, the consequences could be catastrophic. BLAKE: I will let the higher-ups know. Thank you for your time, Mr. Neugebauer. We look forward to seeing you soon. <End Log> ADDENDUM-7467-3: INITIAL DEBRIEF The following is a transcript of the initial meeting between PoI-7467-1 and MTF Chi-37. It covers the proposed plans to detain PoI-7467-2 (“Ulysses Eisenberger”) and recontain SCP-7467. <Begin Log> RUSKIN: Alright folks, welcome back. Glad to see all of you again. Today’s a very important day, as we have a special guest joining us for the ride, so I want you to be on your best behavior today, alright? LIU: This isn’t primary school, Theodore. RUSKIN: Well, with that attitude it sounds like you’re still in school, so I thought I just had to remind some of you that we have to be kind and respectful towards others, especially to our friend here today. CORNELIUS: I am no friend of your organization, just a mere acquaintance. DAVIS: Is that a goblin? RUSKIN: Yes, Noah, that is a goblin. Very astute observation. DAVIS: Holy shit, we have our own little Boblin! CORNELIUS: I am not a pet for you to keep, or a ‘Boblin’, whatever abomination that is. Theodore leans in toward Cornelius’ ear. RUSKIN: I am so sorry about them. CORNELIUS: It’s alright. I’ve seen worse. RUSKIN: What could possibly be worse? CORNELIUS: Gringotts. And that Japanese animation that they made about us. That still sickens me. FERGUSON: You mean Goblin Slayer? CORNELIUS: Yes, that one. I wasn’t surprised by that portrayal at all, but that was disgusting. RUSKIN: I don’t think we need to bring that one up, Samuel. FERGUSON: Alright. RUSKIN: As we already discussed, Professor Cornelius here will be assisting us in detaining the Goblin Gang and retaking what’s rightfully ours. CORNELIUS: It’s not necessarily yours. RUSKIN: I know that. But we need to take it back before whatever the hell Ulysses is up to comes to fruition. ABEYTA: Well, where do we start? CORNELIUS: I do believe that there is a motive to the madness. CORNELIUS: I was Ulysses’ mentor. He thought of the same thoughts I had. It was like I was looking in a mirror. RUSKIN: But something must’ve happened. CORNELIUS: There was a burgeoning hatred inside of him that I failed to notice until it was too late. Every man and woman above the surface was complacent to our suffering in his eyes. I never got why, but I should’ve known. It was right there all along. DAVIS: So… an extremist. Seems like a nonissue to us. CORNELIUS: You are underestimating what he can do. A GOC strike force couldn’t take him down. You couldn’t keep your own site protected from him. I’ve seen what he could do. LIU: Then he just fucked off? CORNELIUS: No. I was the one who ran. After the march down Washington failed, I left him behind to deal with the GOC strike force. He lost all of my respect before then. Calling me a coward, said he was going to kill my family for siding with the ‘mudpeople’. There was no going back for him. RUSKIN: That’s terrible. I’m so sorry that happened to you. CORNELIUS: I feel the pain that he went through. But that doesn’t mean you get to hurt innocent people because they can’t stop the people above them from hurting us. DAVIS: Hey man, it’ll be okay, once we’re done you don’t have to worry about his sorry ass anymore. CORNELIUS: If you consider the full implications here you can’t lay a finger on him, because the weapon that he holds will either make you screech like a madman, break you down to your molecules, or drop a piano on you whenever you flip a coin. That unpredictability is his advantage, which is why we’ll use it against him. LIU: How? We don’t have a weapon like he has. He’s just going to turn us into jelly. CORNELIUS: The weapon is only part of his advantage. The whole idea here is guerrilla warfare. It takes you by surprise before you can get a single shot in. DAVIS: So, we just go full buck wild? CORNELIUS: No. There are inherent patterns in complex and chaotic systems, such as our weather, which is how we can predict what is coming to us next. I plan to do a similar thing. RUSKIN: And what does that entail? CORNELIUS: I’ll have a one-on-one chat with my old friend, and we’ll make him think that we are about to ambush him, but in reality it should be a fluid, constantly moving assault to keep Ulysses on his toes. FERGUSON: I get it. It’s a plan within a plan that’s not a plan but eventually is a plan. Planception. RUSKIN: How are we going to surprise them when they know we’re coming? CORNELIUS: It’s simple. We don’t, but then we do, as our actual plan should be kept hidden from the multitudes of fake plans. A pattern within the madness. LIU: That could work. RUSKIN: I guess, but I don’t know if that would work. It’s inherently unpredictable. Unknowns mean no clear objective, no clear way of victory, and it rubs me the wrong way. Every piece should fall into place. How am I supposed to do that if I don’t know what the pieces are? DAVIS: Hey man, you’re just being ignorant. You gotta learn the Way of the Goblin. RUSKIN: Shut the hell up. That isn’t funny at all, and you know it. Where’s your respect that you’re supposed to show to our guest today? I warned you twice already, and you still don’t listen to me. DAVIS: The only disrespect in this room is to my nose, since it smells like a pigsty in here. CORNELIUS: Have I provoked you, Mr. Davis? DAVIS: No, you seem like a cool dude, but it just so happens that my brother lost his future engineering job a couple weeks ago because of “competition” that I clearly know was some green freaks getting all the attention. LIU: Are you ranting conspiracies while working for a conspiracy? DAVIS: Shut up. It’s a good thing that we’re keeping the veil closed, and I don’t see why you don’t believe me. I don't want my house to be broken into. I need my family to be safe. There is a large percentage of bank robberies that are committed by these kleptomaniacs, which is why they are incarcerated a lot more often than other anomalous species. I have the statistics. We should just get this Ulysses bastard and go- Theodore curves his hands into fists and slams them onto the table. RUSKIN: Noah. Get out. Now. DAVIS: Sure thing, boss. Davis gets out of his seat and exits the room, slamming the door behind him. RUSKIN: I can’t with him. I just can’t. LIU: You gave him second chances every which way. Hell, he even squinted his eyes while looking at me once, and you let him off for that. RUSKIN: I thought he would change. He said that he would change. CORNELIUS: You only change yourself for the better if you clearly understand why you hurt others and have the motivation and the help to reconcile and evolve into something better. If this is a repeated pattern with no sense of guilt, then I do not see the reason for forgiveness. RUSKIN: That may be true, but he’s my friend. Or was. I have to do something about it, regardless. CORNELIUS: If he is simply ill-informed, then that can be fixed with enough time. But some men do not want change. They believe in what they think is right, no matter the contrary. Convincing them is difficult, if not borderline impossible. I am sorry about your friend, but it may not be easy to forgive him if he is willing to continue what he is doing. Just think about it. RUSKIN: …I will. Samuel pats Theodore on the back. FERGUSON: It’ll be okay, bud. We’ll get out of this eventually. LIU: Hey, guys, if we want to get started, we need to think about some kind of weakness that we can use against Ulysses’ cohorts. ABEYTA: Already on it. RUSKIN: Right on the dot again, Ximena? ABEYTA: You know it, Theo. ABEYTA: It’s about the invisibility cloaks. The issue with invisibility is that you can’t make yourself completely invisible. Even if it's smaller than a single hair follicle, you need just enough of your eyes to stay visible so that light can hit them and you can still see. ABEYTA: Now, trying to see a fraction of a pupil hanging in space would be beyond most people, but I’ve trained myself to look for them because they always move in two. FERGUSON: Don’t we have infrared visors to solve this problem? ABEYTA: This is Prometheus technology. Covers every wavelength. FERGUSON: Well damn, guess that’s not the only thing they stole from Prometheus. ABEYTA: Most of their firepower is from Prometheus. If we want to pack a punch, we’re going to have to bring in the big guns. CORNELIUS: I already have something forming in my head. RUSKIN: Great. Team, let’s get to planning. Or not, since this is all up to chance. FERGUSON: Sir, yes sir! Samuel gives a mock salute to Theodore. RUSKIN: You don’t have to do that. I’m not a drill instructor. LIU: We’re off to a great start already. <End Log> ADDENDUM-7467-4: INCIDENT-7467-2 The following footage is taken from the body cameras of Commander Ruskin and PoI-7467-1. The footage contains the implementation of MTF Chi-37’s plan, the unexpected obstacles placed before MTF Chi-37, and the confrontation between PoI-7467-1 and PoI-7467-2. <Begin Log> Camera footage shows a large, underground tunnel, located underneath the US Capitol Building. Cornelius follows a figure obscured by a dark cloak, who eventually opens a door to reveal a large chamber. Inside this chamber is a multitude of large, complex clockwork machinery which is currently generating a vast number of weapons and equipment. Groups of goblins maintain the upkeep of these machines, using various tools to keep the machines running. In the center of the chamber is PoI-7467-2. GOBLIN: Boss, he’s here. ULYSSES: Cornelius! Ulysses swiftly turns around and runs up to Cornelius, and quickly puts a hand on his shoulder. ULYSSES: It’s so good to see you again. How have you been? CORNELIUS: Relatively alright. I see you are working on something. ULYSSES: Why, yes, my friend, we are working on something very important. I’m finishing what you started. CORNELIUS: What are you planning? ULYSSES: Come on, Cornelius, isn’t it obvious? You know exactly what I’m about to do. ULYSSES: The mudpeople have shown me that time and time again, they will always do the wrong thing. They kick us all down to pull themselves up for something unreachable. They worship false idols that promise wealth and prosperity, but in reality will provide nothing while they get to sit in their clean, upkept mansions. ULYSSES: And why won’t they target us? We’re easy to pick on. We are small, ugly, nasty creatures that’ll get in your fridge. We’re not dangerous. We’re not intimidating. They aren’t afraid of us. CORNELIUS: There are some surface dwellers who will help us. They are in the same situation as us. We have the same goals, why target them too? ULYSSES: Not one of them has cared. We marched down Washington, and not one person walked down with us. They thought it was a goddamn Halloween party! CORNELIUS: Well, it was October 31st. ULYSSES: I already know you’re a terrible planner, but even if it wasn’t that date, there will be nobody there. And why would they be there? They don’t make the commitment to solve their own problems. They’re too numb to their reality, and that makes them weak. CORNELIUS: There was one man who wanted to help. ULYSSES: That was a fluke. He only helped you because you cried like a bitch and told a sob story that got to his cold, dead, heart. He worked for a weapons manufacturer, Cornelius! Can’t you see the irony in that? CORNELIUS: If you knew him like I did, that is not the case. ULYSSES: Oh, really? It seems he’s doing fine making weapons for me. CORNELIUS: Not voluntarily. ULYSSES: Doesn’t matter. The only way that you could care for a civil rights issue anymore is for clout. Like and retweet if you want the government to explode! Embarrassing. ULYSSES: I will show the surface dwellers how it’s done. I’m going to give my fight to all my brothers and sisters in this country, and we’re going to shoot these bastards to kingdom come. This nice little weapon that you made will also be very helpful for what’s about to happen. Too bad I can’t make more, since you burned all the blueprints. CORNELIUS: You don’t have to be the monster that they think you are. You’re just going to prove them right, in the end. ULYSSES: Why would I care? They’d be dead no matter how right they are. Their society is a constant loop. They reject their reality, and try to push themselves into their fantasies where everything is all sunshine and rainbows. ULYSSES: No matter how many times we vote, riot, scream in pain, everything just moves like clockwork. Tragedies are forgotten after a week, pointless issues are brought up to cover up government corruption, and we all just keep marching on as our world burns. ULYSSES: I’m going to close the loop. Break the cycle. The surface was never theirs to ruin. I’m taking it back. CORNELIUS: I can’t let you. You will inspire the next generation to slaughter like you do. ULYSSES: And you think your ideas will come out on top? Kindness doesn’t work anymore. Our oppressors need consequences. ULYSSES: This isn’t even my tunnel. This is an old tunnel built in 1794 for our ancestors, who were forced to pay so much sweat, blood and tears in exchange for small pastries and scraps. They only used us as a tool for their machines, and kept their deeds hidden. What they forgot is that this tunnel is also a perfect location to enter a government building. ULYSSES: You, on the other hand, are just a domesticated dog for a rich human family that treated you like a baby. Our ancestors’ bloodlines were stolen when we were taken as servants and given names from the surface, which includes you. You will never know what it’s like to suffer as I have. You have no scars. CORNELIUS: That does not give an excuse for hanging my father from the rafters to send a message. ULYSSES: He had all the money in the world to help us, and yet he spent it all on the veil. It was a necessary message. ULYSSES: Selling out to the Jailors will not help you. They are not prepared for what will come next. You are- The chamber shakes, and a loud noise can be heard outside the tunnel walls. Heavy footsteps and screaming can be heard in the background. ULYSSES: And there we go, you sent them in. Predictable for a traitor. CORNELIUS: This isn’t what you think. ULYSSES: Really? Because I now have two hostages in my hands, and I can also add a few more casualties to the tally. ULYSSES: My friends are already up above. I can’t wait to see the look on your face when we bring the bodies for you to see. Theodore’s body camera activates, showing the interior of the U.S. Capitol, sustaining minor damage from the controlled explosion intended to lure Ulysses into action. MTF Chi-35 scans the chamber and nearby hallways for any sign of GoI-7467. FERGUSON: No sign of them yet. RUSKIN: Of course. They could come any time soon. In fact, they could be in this very room right now, and I would be none the wiser. FERGUSON: You sure you okay, man? I haven’t seen you act like this before. RUSKIN: I don’t know anymore, Sam. This shit is tearing me apart. I have never felt so small. FERGUSON: Aren’t we all, sometimes? RUSKIN: Not like that. I work for an incomprehensible entity that keeps an everlasting curtain standing for every second that I stand here. I am fighting a fight that has been fought for too long. It’s all the same. FERGUSON: It’s like you’re only a piece of a puzzle? RUSKIN: Yes! That’s exactly it! And I don’t know what I’m fighting anymore. I’ve lost good friends to this fight. But now it feels like we did all of this for nothing. FERGUSON: This won’t be for nothing, Theo. We have each other, that’s all we need. These goblins aren’t aggressors. They’re hurt. They need us. We need to step up and take action. Not for our organization, not for the Overseers, not for any of that. We’re here to protect. That’s what we stand for. RUSKIN: I hope you’re right. FERGUSON: I will. Just lead us through this. It’s on us for what happens next. This fight doesn’t have to be the same anymore. Ximena springs out of a corner, looks around the room, and finds no signs of GoI-7467. ABEYTA: Don’t see any yet. RUSKIN: Did you get the fridge set up? ABEYTA: It’s all locked and loaded. Katy’s got the mannequins and the fake 7467’s. FERGUSON: What about Noah? RUSKIN: I had him sit out of this one. He needs a break. LIU: More like a good hit of his perfect teeth. RUSKIN: We don’t need to start any of that. They’ll be coming any minute. Stay sharp, watch each other’s six. You don’t know where they could be at. They could— Ximena fires her tranquilizer at a nearby, empty space in the chamber, which hits and incapacitates a concealed goblin. ABEYTA: Told ya. They always move in two. RUSKIN: Alright, it’s already started. Everyone to your positions! The team scatters into different directions. Theodore can be seen sprinting through the halls, quickly turning through tight corners. He drops several ball bearings in various locations, causing some concealed goblins to lose their footing and injure themselves. He eventually stops, out of breath, and peers out of a corner. Hundreds of goblins are seen exiting what looks to be a wall, but in reality is an illusion of a wall covering the entrance to a large tunnel. RUSKIN: Okay, I found the entrance. There’s a lot of them. No sign of Ulysses yet. LIU: <radio> He probably can’t be seen from the large crowd. RUSKIN: Cornelius said that he was wearing a very dark cloak, like something you’d see a cult leader wear. I don’t see anything matching that description. ABEYTA: <radio> Should we just wait, then? RUSKIN: Well, we need something large, bombastic, something to get their attention. There’s too many of these goblins at this entrance. I need a distraction. FERGUSON: <radio> On it. Theodore waits for a few moments, continually spying on the emerging army sent by Ulysses as they emerge from the tunnel. Theodore braces for an eventual confrontation, however, what appears to be the sound of a heated debate can be heard in the background. GOBLIN: They’re over there! The approaching army stops in their tracks, and turns to face the noise. GOBLIN: It’s time we break the chains. The goblins put their cloaks on, become imperceptible, and rush toward the noise. As they do so, Theodore enters the corridor and searches for any remaining goblins. He finds none. RUSKIN: What was that? FERGUSON: <radio> Little something I cooked up. The government officials are hiding on the other side of the building, so we should move the chaos in the opposite direction. LIU: <radio> I like your thinking there. RUSKIN: I should keep moving. Theodore checks the hidden entrance, and attempts to pass through it, however, he is impeded by an invisible force. RUSKIN: Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. Theodore looks for any sign of entry, however the tunnel entrance appears to be inaccessible, even with the usage of conventional tools. RUSKIN: Our friend here is not letting me in his lair. LIU: <radio> Even if it wasn’t locked out, that place is probably swarming with goblins. You can’t just walk in and take 7467. RUSKIN: I’m just figuring out my options here, Katy. We have two hostages down there, and I can’t take any risks. LIU: <radio> This whole mission is a risk, Theo. RUSKIN: I’ll figure it out. Theodore sighs and begins to run down the remaining corridors, and up several flights of stairs. He eventually enters what looks to be a committee room. RUSKIN: Alright, I’m here. Is everyone ready? LIU: <radio> Sure am. ABEYTA: <radio> I got everything prepared. FERGUSON: <radio> Ready when you are. RUSKIN: Alright team, let’s end this. Hit it! Several loud, explosive sounds can be heard, shaking the entire committee chamber floor. Theodore almost loses his footing, but after a while the sounds cease and Theodore regains his balance. RUSKIN: Hope this works. Theodore exits the chamber and heads back down the stairs, heading towards the chamber of the House of Representatives. Surveillance footage shows several groups of goblins being strung up by large nets, some being attacked by animated mannequins, which are not affected by bullets, and some being affected by several large-scale illusions, which include a false UIU strike team, false weapons lying on the floor, and false U.S. House Representatives that flee from the goblins. These illusions are mostly distractions to keep the goblins from hurting innocent civilians. Theodore turns a corner, and sees two goblins with their firearms raised at what appears to be a refrigerator. GOBLIN: We know you’re in there, missy! GOBLIN: Come on out or we’ll shoot! LIU: Never! GOBLIN: She’s stubborn. GOBLIN: Just open the door, you wank. GOBLIN: Fine. The goblin attempts to open the door, however this is not feasible, as the refrigerator is actually a cardboard cutout. LIU: Sorry about that, guys. There is no fridge. Katherine leaps from around a corner and incapacitates the hostile goblins with her tranquilizer. RUSKIN: This is just getting ridiculous. LIU: C’mon, don’t you think this is a little fun? These illusions look so real! RUSKIN: And I bet we’re never going to be allowed to use them again. LIU: You’re no fun. RUSKIN: Let’s just get going. The rest of the goblins are either incapacitated by several traps or patrolling Chi-37 members, and the ones who are not are locked inside the Senate chamber, after following the noise produced by Samuel. MTF Chi-37 eventually regroup inside the visitor center, looking exhausted and injured from the previous events. FERGUSON: That was a lot. RUSKIN: I still fail to see how we can get that weapon if Ulysses is still hiding. LIU: Maybe he’s waiting for us to put our guards down. ABEYTA: Or maybe he is waiting for someone to justify his actions. Ximena places down the deceased body of a goblin, which is covered in bullet holes. RUSKIN: Jesus Christ. ABEYTA: This was no act of self-defense. This was a clear act of aggression. LIU: I thought you said that Noah would sit this one out. RUSKIN: I didn’t think he was going to shoot anybody! ULYSSES: Did you also think that I wouldn’t notice him? Theodore looks up above, and sees Ulysses grabbing Noah Davis by the throat, dangling him off the balcony above. FERGUSON: Oh shit. ULYSSES: You’re using tranquilizers and childish illusions to stop me now? You’ve gotten soft. RUSKIN: Don’t you dare drop him! ULYSSES: Not until you let me quietly exit the premises. FERGUSON: I don’t think that’s going to happen. ULYSSES: Of course you won’t. Otherwise you won’t be able to contain me. ULYSSES: Do you realize who you are fighting for? You think you’re enforcing justice, for the good of the people and the protection of the weird corners of the world. And yet you seem to forget your roots. ULYSSES: We are who we choose to be. Now you must choose between the bigoted creatures who hide in the shadows of the surface, or… Ulysses points down towards two goblins, who are pointing their firearms at a binded Cornelius. ULYSSES: The innocent goblin, who for hundreds of years has bled so that you can keep your gears turning. What’s so wrong with a little more blood on your hands? It’s your choice. RUSKIN: You can’t do this. ULYSSES: Oh, I can and I will. You are nothing but a pawn in their game, a piece in a larger puzzle. You are just as disposable as the men in the orange jumpsuits that you keep around. I am giving you a chance to prove yourself. You must make the decision, Commander. Your choice will matter, now. Choose wisely. There is a long pause. Theodore contemplates the situation at present, looking frantically around the room for any kind of solution, however, he finds none. He eventually places his weapon on the floor, and raises his hands above his head. RUSKIN: I choose chance. ULYSSES: Interesting. You know what, I’ll honor that choice. Ulysses shifts 7467 to its third cartridge, pulls Noah up and places him on the balcony floor, and fires the weapon at Noah. ULYSSES: If you leave it up to luck, eventually it will hit you in the back. Noah slowly pulls himself up, and grabs his pistol. He turns its safety off and puts his finger on the trigger, pointing it at Ulysses. DAVIS: You just won’t quit, won’t ya, you green bastard? ULYSSES: The world should remove people like you, but if Mother Nature wants to spare you, I’ll let her take its course. DAVIS: Your tricks don’t work on me anymore. I should’ve pulled the trigger when I had the chance. ULYSSES: You do have the chance now. Go right ahead. RUSKIN: Noah, don’t! Noah pulls the trigger, but the gun jams. DAVIS: What? ULYSSES: Here she comes. A section of the balcony collapses, causing Noah to fall to the chamber below. He does not move once the impact settles. ULYSSES: They never change, don’t they? Predictable. Now it’s your turn. Ulysses shifts 7467 to the second cartridge and pulls the trigger, however, nothing occurs. The gun does not go off. ULYSSES: That shouldn’t happen. This doesn’t malfunction. It can’t malfunction! It can’t- WAGNER: Did you really think I didn’t have a failsafe, Evolutionsbremse? A figure appears behind Ulysses, and strikes him in the back of the head, incapacitating him. WAGNER: Those chains aren’t hard to break out of. Your reign of terror is over. RUSKIN: Now! Ximena and Samuel fire their tranquilizers at the two remaining goblins, incapacitating them. FERGUSON: We gotta go. RUSKIN: Can you meet us at the entrance, Richard? WAGNER: I’ll find a way down. CORNELIUS: Thank you, old friend. WAGNER: Gern geschehen, little one. <End Log> After the events transcribed above, all members of GoI-7467 have been detained and SCP-7467 has been successfully reclaimed. Further investigation into the other Prometheus items stolen by GoI-7467 is ongoing. ADDENDUM-7467-5: RELEVANT DOCUMENTATION The following is an undisclosed letter sent from PoI-7467-1 to Theodore Ruskin of Chi-37. It has been transcribed below. Theodore, I first would like to thank you for what you’ve done last night. It was a tough choice, and you did the right thing. I’m sorry for your friend. I could’ve stopped what happened, but now I know that we must carry on, and learn from our mistakes. Ulysses thought there was no change in our fight, that the cycle of pain and suffering will continue, regardless of what we do. He is wrong. Senseless violence will make martyrs, and continued movements inspired from the original hate. But anger does not have to destroy. My anger is not for hate but for love. I recognize the world for its flaws and its injustices and its cruelties, and I will not let these crimes stand. I can redirect that energy, that stance to fight, and use it to make the world a better place. Militant decency, as Terry Pratchett taught. Your Foundation does not need to uphold what it stood for in the past. I have seen something from within its jaws. A spark that refuses to go out. 43, 87, 120, I have seen all of it. You are not a pawn, Theodore, you are a commander. An inspiration. Something that the people will look up to. I think it’s time for you to take a stand. I am getting old. My fight has long since passed. I have made irreversible mistakes. I have started something that has consumed the lives of many. That is something that the world can’t forgive. But the least I can do is pass the torch. Richard and I are living with his daughter in an undisclosed location. You do not need to find us. But you must carry the torch as I have. We cannot be destroyers. We must be better. For the sake of our children, we must be better. Don’t let the flame die out. Footnotes 1. An anomalous weapon of mass destruction used by various groups of interest, governments, and mercenaries. 2. The sphere of all human thought 3. Colloquially known as a goblin 4. A hazard that changes patterns in deterministic nonlinear systems that can result in large differences in a later state. This is colloquially known as the ‘Butterfly Effect’. More From This Author More From This Author Merehrab's Works SCPs SCP-6461 (+31) • SCP-7163 (+53) • SCP-8035 (+32) • SCP-7550 (+58) • Tales/GoI Formats Blackbird (+12) • Turning Out (+17) • Other Merehrab’s Musings (+28) • ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7467" by Merehrab, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7467. 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: goblin.jpg Name: Goblin illustration from 19th century.jpg Author: John Dickson Batten License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-7470 | neutralized | ITEM #: 7470 CONTAINMENT CLASS: NEUTRALIZED Fig 1.1: The moon, as seen from Site-19 roughly 12 hours after the advent of SCP-7470 (hover to enlarge). SPECIAL CONTAINMENT PROCEDURES: The search for Daniel Collins and other missing persons related to SCP-7470 is ongoing and considered a top priority. Monitoring of Le Blanc University and the surrounding environs is to be conducted at all times. Standard Foundation disinformation protocol applies to inquiries by law enforcement or the public regarding the status of the missing persons. The Philip E. Lewis Memorial Auditorium, the hypocenter for SCP-7470, has been closed to the public and placed under Foundation jurisdiction under the guise of structural defects. Lunar surveys are ongoing. High command stationed on Lunar Area-32 has been asked to review the contents of this file—contingency protocols for the emergence of unforeseen lunar phenomena are being drafted. All personnel should prepare for a potential Amida-class disruption event. Consult your HMCL supervisor for more information. DESCRIPTION: SCP-7470 was the disappearance of Daniel Collins and associated phenomena on the night of March 6, 2023, at roughly 7:00 pm. Collins, who had experience working for NASA and other aerospace organizations, had been a professor of astronomy at Le Blanc University for well over a decade prior to SCP-7470. An extensive background check revealed no abnormalities besides an antisocial childhood. Prior to the advent of SCP-7470, Collins had been conducting an extensive study on lunar activities using University funds, with an emphasis on the annual variations of orbital patterns. The exact nature of his research was never fully disclosed to the faculty or student body; his findings were expected to be revealed during the lecture that resulted in SCP-7470. Readings taken from local monitoring stations after the conclusion of SCP-7470 discovered slight gravitational abnormalities concurrent with the advent of SCP-7470; however, they were not nearly as powerful as the nature of the incident would require (see Addendum A). Theorists currently speculate SCP-7470 generated a localized spacial/temporal anomaly to reduce damage caused by its gravity on planet Earth, however, this cannot be confirmed. Following the conclusion of SCP-7470, the moon now possesses an inverted synchronous rotation, so that its far hemisphere1 orbits facing the Earth. Foundation-operated astronomical divisions have been placed on notice should future incidents arise, and disinformation campaigns are suppressing ongoing public alarm. ADDENDUM A: Video Log Forward: The following is a recording of SCP-7470, captured by a member of the audience during Collins' lecture on his research findings. The lecture was held at the Philip E. Lewis Memorial Auditorium at Le Blanc University. In attendance were 54 students, faculty, and members of the public. The footage was recovered by Foundation cleanup crews following the conclusion of SCP-7470. [Camera activates. The stage is empty and the lights are off. Ambient chatter from the audience can be heard.] [Collins enters from stage right. Audience applause as light illuminates the stage.] [He approaches the podium and raises a hand in acknowledgment. The applause subsides. He adjusts his microphone.] First I want to thank you all for coming. I know the weather has been less than ideal. I just want to let you all know how grateful I am to have an audience here. You're all fantastic. [Collins clears his throat.] When I was eight, after a particularly nasty bout of night terrors, my mother took me out into the cold Mojave night, sat me down on the dusty rocks, and told me a story. She said that every night, once the sun settles over the horizon, the moon comes out to keep watch over the Earth. It kept all the monsters away, she told me. The moon would watch all night. It could see everything. The biggest trees, the smallest mice. She even told me it could see all the fishes of the sea, all the way to the bottom. It was so big, so powerful, none of the monsters dared to face it. It could even see me, of course, sitting cozy in my bed. All night long, it would watch. Then the sun would come up, chase the moon out of the sky, bathe the Earth in golden light. Until the next night. On and on, forever. I don't know where she got that story from, but it did wonders to ease the frightened mind of a child. The moon, guardian of the night. It must be pretty good at its job since I never saw any monsters around. [Collins chuckles and pauses for effect—audience remains silent. He continues, shakily.] On my twelfth birthday, Apollo 11 put men on the moon. For the first time, I saw the moon, not through the dirty lens of a telescope but live on television. [Collins begins to pace the stage. The camera pivots to follow him.] After that, I became fascinated with space. I mean really, truly obsessed. You should've seen my bedroom. I had one of those rocket ship beds, the ones where you could actually stand up in because they were so tall. I had an astronaut helmet and a flight suit and at least a half dozen telescopes. And let's not forget the Moon In My Room—the little bisected moon lamp you hang on your bedroom wall that talks you to sleep. Yes, it's real. Look it up. I got one for Christmas one year. You can click it through the lunar phases and it'll tell you about science and folklore. I loved it to death. But nothing could compare to the real thing. [Collins boots up the stage's projector screen. It displays an image of the moon (pictured).] Fig 1.2: Slide 1. As I got older, I started studying the moon. I'd stare at pictures like this for hours. I'd pore over images from the Apollo missions. Once I even held a piece of moonrock in my hand—gloved, of course. As embarrassing as it sounds, I would sometimes regard it less as an object and more as a person. Someone, rather than something. I think I held a conversation with it on more than one occasion. Could you blame me? I was a loner. [He points to the projector screen, which clicks to show the cover of the 1974 issue of Popular Science Magazine displaying a group photograph of high schoolers alongside NASA technicians. Collins stands out in the foreground wearing a bright red Hawaiian shirt and oversized glasses. Audience laughs, to which Collins chuckles.] That used to be in style, believe it or not. This was a few years before I got an internship at NASA. I was never on the table for the astronaut program, but I did work directly under those who were. I was jealous of them—I could only be a desk jockey for so long. I needed to get out and make a name for myself. So when I was offered a job here at the University… I was over the moon, no pun intended. I took up a position as an assistant researcher, worked my way up to professor, and… well the rest is history. Enough about me. You're all here to learn what they won't teach you in Astronomy 101. You've no doubt studied this stuff all your academic career. If you're like me, you've seen every documentary, read every journal you could find about our only natural satellite. Many of you have probably studied the many theories about its creation—that it was flung from the Earth during an early impact event, or captured and brought into Earth's orbit from some other source. Some of you might believe it was always there, formed from the same accretion disk and at the same time as the Earth. [Collins clicks to the next slide, an image of the moon cracked with red chasms.] This is what the moon would've looked like in its early years. Fragile. Impure. Rift valleys like the one on the screen would've made the moon nearly unrecognizable. Like the world's biggest omelet. [Collins pauses expectantly. Audience does not react.] Get it? Because it looks like… an egg? Um, anyway. [Collins clicks to the next slide, an image of the moon as it would have appeared 4 billion years ago.] There would've been vast pools of magma—lunar seas. We can only guess what they would've looked like. I always imagined the moon would've appeared as Earth did in her infancy, full of fire and heat and life. [Collins clicks to the next slide, a Hawaiian lava flow.] Do you know what happens to solid rock when it superheats? Well, it's a bit like taffy. It stretches, becoming something in between a semi-solid and a liquid. The moon would've been… amorphous, malleable. And it would've done the same to anything that touched it, assuming it got hot enough. It's hard to believe that our moon could've been anything other than the dead rock it is now… but it was. For millions of years. Let's talk about a bit more recent history. Man has known of the moon as long as we've known of each other. It's been the centerpiece of countless fables, symbols, and religions. It has captured and mystified us longer than we can measure. [Collins clicks to the next slide, a grainy, distorted image of the moon (pictured).] Fig 1.3: Slide 6. This is the first image of the far side of the moon, as photographed by the Soviet probe Luna 3. The first to see this were the Russians in '59, who later mapped it in '60. By all accounts, they were the first humans in history to have seen the entirety of our moon. They should have been. But they weren't. I saw it first almost five years before the Soviets, in the twilight hours of the early night—that time when the space on the horizon where the sun used to occupy is still firey yellow, before the blues and blacks of night swallow up the sky. It's then when the moon is most prominent, right as it peeks up above the tree line. On this particular night it… felt so close. Like I could just reach up and touch it. No stars out tonight. Just you. But you were wrong. You weren't the same you'd always been. Your face was blemished, scarred. I didn't recognize the craters. I thought I was dreaming, but it all felt so real. You were bigger, too, and not just because of the atmospheric distortion. You were closer. I knew that you were here for a reason. You were here for me. You were trying to show me something—but I couldn't see it. You were still too far. [Audience is noticeably uncomfortable. Murmurs rise as several people in the foreground begin stirring.] I had to get closer. I was on the verge of something more spectacular than any other scientific breakthrough in the last hundred years—the moon had called me, and I had to answer. Why it chose me I… I don't know. It didn't matter. For the first time, my guardian, my protector, had revealed its true self to me. But it was a fleeting moment, and it was gone in an instant. I had to see it again. I couldn't let this die with me—I needed to document it. To record it for generations to come. I needed a spectacle. I needed an audience. [Silence on recording. Collins checks his watch. He murmurs something, then clicks to the next slide. It displays an image of the moon surrounded by a number of equations mapping its orbit with the Earth.] Tonight is a supermoon. It is currently seven in the evening—sunset will occur in a few moments. It won't be long now. [Collins turns to look at something off-screen. The camera maneuvers to the left to display the auditorium's floor-to-ceiling windows. A large, pale object dominates the horizon outside. The camera focuses, revealing it to be an immense, vaguely spherical presence similar in appearance to the moon but distorted in both size and shape. A low pulsing vibration rattles the camera and causes noticeable discomfort in the audience.] All those times I called to you… you were listening. I should never have doubted you. I'm sorry. I think I'm ready now. Everyone, please don't be alarmed. I will go first, to show you it is safe. All I ask is that you watch. For posterity. Fig 1.4: Still recovered from video footage. [Collins steps down from the stage and cautiously approaches the doors leading out of the building. A low murmur from the audience erupts. Several produce cellular phones to record the proceeding event. The object on the horizon has grown in size, and the pulsing has increased in tempo and intensity.] [He exits the building, stepping several meters into the open courtyard outside. He is now enveloped in pale light. He is visibly shaking and speaking upward, but his words are unintelligible. The presence is directly above him. The building's power cuts and the room is bathed in pale light.] [Collins' body is pulled upwards by an invisible force. He is elongated and his torso stretches towards the presence above. He opens his mouth to scream, releasing a semi-liquified, red-tinged slurry of blood and internal organs. The substance demonstrates non-Newtonian properties, initially falling to the ground as solid before gradually softening and levitating alongside Collins' upper torso.] [The audience erupts in screams as the ambient pulsing increases to a deafening volume. Collins's body becomes gelatinous—pustules of skin, bone, and hair drip off his body, hang in the air, then fall upwards. After nearly three minutes, Collins' upper body disappears beyond the view of the camera. His lower body continues the stretch without breaking for an additional ten minutes until it too disappears from view.] [Chaos within the auditorium renders much of the remaining footage useless, but at several points, members of the audience could be seen attempting to barricade the auditorium doors with their bodies and other movable furniture. After several minutes, the camera is knocked from its tripod and trampled. The remaining few hours of film have been destroyed.] Closing: All 54 people present for Daniel Collins' lecture, including Collins himself, have been declared missing. When janitorial staff accessed the building the morning after SCP-7470, they found it empty and in disrepair. L is for "Lamentations" SCP ANTHOLOGY Hub N is for "Neon" ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7470" by Its a Bad Idea, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7470. 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: farmoon.jpg Name: Back side of the Moon AS16-3021.jpg Author: Apollo 16 astronauts License: Public Domain Source: Wikimedia Commons Filename: Luna3.jpg Name: Luna 3 moon.jpg Author: OKB-1 License: Public Domain Source: Wikimedia Commons Filename: fullmoon.jpg Name: FullMoon2010.jpg Author: Gregory H. Revera License: Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported Source: Wikimedia Commons Filename: supermoon2 Name: Supermoon The Closest And The Biggest India (183091365).jpeg Author: Alok Kumar License: Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported Source: Wikimedia Commons Footnotes 1. Colloquially known as the "dark" side. |
SCP-7471 | keter | 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 Additional Notes: Victim recovered arranged similarly to a coffee table, with the severed head having a bouquet of flowers rammed through its eye socket. Link To Guide Item#:SCP-7471 Clearance Level 2: Clearance Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7471 is currently classified as a neutralized anomaly. Personnel should alert their Site Director if any reports of individuals matching SCP-7471's description are found in the Cartagena area. Should personnel become aware of the "Cartagena Ripper" killings resuming, SCP-7471 is to be immediately re-classified as Keter, and amnesticization of the local police force must be initiated immediately. Foundation Field Agents are to be posted on patrol in known red-light districts and areas frequented by sex workers. Description: SCP-7471 was an anomalous, non-corporeal, sapient, and suspected reality-bending entity originating in and surrounding Cartagena, Colombia. SCP-7471 took the form of a tall, emaciated, pale-skinned woman, typically posing as a prostitute near affluent, tourist-oriented sections of the city. SCP-7471 was responsible for a series of killings between 2007 and 2012 that were attributed to an unidentified serial killer known as the "Cartagena Butcher" by local authorities. SCP-7471 exclusively targeted adult males, typically small in stature, with moderate to high muscle and low body fat. During the period in which SCP-7471 was active, it was unable to be recorded on any visual media. Evidence collected following the death of Field Agent Domino Martinez suggests SCP-7471 would either solicit a victim for sexual intercourse, or be solicited by a potential victim. (See Addendum) Following intercourse, SCP-7471 would then implant the egg of an unknown, arthropod-like creature inside the bladder of the victim via a urethral canal. This creature, designated SCP-7471-A, would then rapidly grow in size until forcibly exiting the victims body, resulting in evisceration and subsequent death. SCP-7471-A do not possess any internal organs and typically die shortly after emerging from a victim. Based on circumstances surrounding known incidents, it is believed SCP-7471-A emit a memetic compulsion on nearby humans. The nature of this effect is not well understood, and appears to appear randomly or via satisfaction of unknown criteria. Discovery: Foundation personnel responded to local police obtaining a video tape depicting SCP-7471-A emerging from a victim. Due to SCP-7471's absence from all surveilance tapes, SCP-7471-A were initially believed to be the anomaly. Local police dubbed the killings the work of a serial killer. On occasion, anonymous statements were found in local publications self-attributed to the "Cartagena Ripper" but were believed to be a hoax claimant until 2014. (See Addendum) Post-Discovery Victim Log: Victim: José Menudo Results: Incisions made into the cadaver revealed all subcutaneous tissue to be saturated with a highly viscous tar-like substance. Aforementioned substance emits a pungent odor upon exposure to air. A deceased SCP-7471-A instance was recovered inside the subject's abdominal cavity, asphyxiation likely cause of death. Additional Notes: First new victim following Foundation discovery. Notable for being the only SCP-7471 victim discovered fully intact. Victim: Farado Raéz Results: Subject experienced violent decapitation following emergence of an unusually large SCP-7471-A instance. Esophagus and trachea experienced massive trauma. Digestive system appears to have been violently eviscerated by SCP-7471-A instance prior to death. Subject's dismembered legs were found partially digested within the remains of the stomach. Genitals remain unaccounted for. Additional Notes: Victim found dismembered in a downtown Cartagena hotel room. The victim's arms were arranged in a sexually suggestive manner near the absent genitalia. Victim: Unknown Male Results: Subject is a dismembered torso. All organs and muscle tissue appear to have been excavated. The head and limbs of the subject have not been recovered. Additional Notes: Subject discovered in use by a large SCP-7471-A instance as a carapace. Victim: Pascal Demetrio Results: Typical of SCP-7471, subject completely dismembered. No other unusual biological phenomena noted. Subject's eyeballs were recovered from the testicular sac. No surgical incisions were found. Additional Notes: Victim recovered arranged similarly to a coffee table, with the severed head having a bouquet of flowers rammed through its eye socket. Victim: Unknown Male Results: Subject missing all skeletal tissue. Additional Notes: Victim was discovered in a large black garbage bag in an abandoned van. Other paraphernalia recovered at the crime scene suggest erotic asphyxiation was performed or intended to be performed. Victim: Juan Calavera Menendez Results: Subject discovered extremely mutilated. The head was the only part of the subject's corpse that remained untouched. The body below the chest appears to have been altered to resemble fetal tissue. Additional Notes: Victim was a priest at a local Catholic Church. Victim: Unknown Male Results: No findings atypical of other victims. Additional Notes: Subject was recovered being consumed by an SCP-7471-A instance. Victim: Paul Waters Results: Subject's skin has been completely removed. In addition, the victim's body was completely drained of blood shortly after death. Additional Notes: Victim was a high-ranking United States official visiting Cartagena as a tourist. Victim: Raul Rivera Results: Subject appears to have undergone partial SCP-7471-A transformation at the waist. Victim's skull was hollowed out. Additional Notes: Only known instance of an individual transforming into an SCP-7471-A instance. Victim was a detective investigating the "Cartagena Butcher" killings. Victim: Vicente Cortez Results: See Incident-7471-K Additional Notes: See Incident-7471-K Incident-7471-K On 19/07/2011, Foundation personnel were alerted that local authorities had brought an alleged eyewitness into custody for questioning. Vicente Cortez, age 31, claimed to have witnessed the murder of Juan Calavera Menendez and had information regarding the perpetrator. Orders were given to immediately investigate and amnesticize if necessary. Agents arrived at the police station to find the staff in a state of hysteria and covered in blood. The large waiting area appeared to have all the furniture destroyed or relocated, and the staff were all positioned in a large semi-circle facing the interior wall, engaged in repetitive, cyclical movements resembling a bow or prayer. Male staff were reported as emitting low, droning vocalizations. Located at the front of the crowd was a large deceased SCP-7471-A instance measuring 3 meters in length. The instance was situated amongst a large quantity of finely diced biological matter, later identified as being the remains of Vicente Cortez. Substantial quantities of Cortez's DNA were found in fecal samples later taken from the affected staff. Following the conclusion of the investigation, all individuals affected were amnesticized, and related documents expunged. Addendum Investigation into SCP-7471-A remained inconclusive until 2014, following the discovery of the deceased remains of Field Agent Domino Martinez. The circumstances surrounding Agent Martinez alerted the Foundation to the existence of SCP-7471 and subsequently resulted in revision of documentation. The bodies of Agent Martinez and six others were discovered showing a distinct lack of decomposition, and appeared to have suffered extreme burning and disfigurement prior to death, although the building showed no signs of fire damage. The bodies were found positioned kneeling in a circle surrounding the discarded exoskeleton of an SCP-7471-A instance. The whereabouts of the SCP-7471-A instance are unknown. Autopsies revealed each of the bodies to contain a dismembered segment of an additional seventh victim. DNA testing of the victims resulted in the subsequent identification of all victims except the seventh, which has thus far remained unidentified and is not believed to be human. An audio recording was found on Agent Martinez's still functioning cell phone, believed to have been recorded shortly before the time of death. Foreword: Translated from the original Spanish. <Begin Log> Female Voice: Oh, we have it finally. My love. It is time. Sounds of retching and gurgling can be heard throughout the recording. Female Voice: Poor thing. You can't speak anymore. But I can still hear what you're thinking! You want to scream, "Who are you? What do you want?" The female voice laughs. Female Voice: You don't even know how much this moment means to me! To have finally found a vessel, here again for the millionth of millionths of times… The gurgling sounds become more frantic. Female Voice: Even like this, you're such a cute one. It's a shame. But, you may not know who I am, but I know who you are. I know everyone who is ever going to be someone. Female Voice: I know of your abominations and your anomalies Several voices can be heard in the distance pleading. Female Voice: I've always been here, looking for the one. I was, I am, and I always will be. Voices are heard chanting in unison. Voices: We are blighted, she is righteous. Female Voice: You should stop trying to scream, you can't. There's nothing left of your throat. But that's besides the point. Voices: In birthing, we are purging. A separate female voice is heard beginning to sing an unknown prayer song. Female Voice: You ended up being the one I was looking for, Domino. You're special in that way. Voices: Oh, Moonfucker, make our bodies sing once more! Female Voice: Me picking you is more than those missions they send you on. Voices: Oh, Sunbirther, kill time before it begins! Female Voice: Well, My time is up. And as for you people- The female voice moves closer to the microphone. Female Voice: I'll see you at the end of time, my loves. The female voice laughs, followed by a number of distinct voices screaming in pain. After 11 minutes of screaming, it stops, followed by 7 hours of silence before the phone's battery dies. <End Log> Retrospective investigation has revealed the presence of SCP-7471 in security footage from all known incidents. Attempts to determine SCP-7471's identity and nature have been unsuccessful. There have been no sightings or incidents involving SCP-7471 since 2012. More From This Author More From This Author PoufyPoufson's Works SCPs SCP-8031 • SCP-8332 • SCP-8465 • SCP-8010 • SCP-7783 • SCP-8105 • SCP-7541 • SCP-3169 • Poufy's Proposal • SPHERE • SCP-7575 • SCP-7811 • SCP-6541 • SCP-7419 • SCP-7151 • Tales/GoI Formats Other Fear of Death • SCP-POUF • ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7471" by PoufyPoufson, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7471. 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-7472 | esoteric-class | by AnActualCrow and Ralliston Item#: 7472 Level2 Containment Class: pending Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: none Risk Class: none link to memo Tree in Poland (squirrels not pictured). Special Containment Procedures: Pending. Description: SCP-7472 is the disappearance of an estimated 40,000-280,000 squirrels in and around Poznań, Poland. Investigation is ongoing. You're currently viewing an outdated version of this document. Click here to see the current iteration. You Might Also Like... Feel free to add this collapsible to your own articles! SCP-3790-J — Pantopicon IV: The Search for Pantopticon III (sic), by Captain Kirby and Rounderhouse SCP-6222 — FISH PRISON, by Aftokrator SCP-6247 — The Assassination of the Fish Council by the Coward Fishish as told by the Noble Founder of the Fish Council Fishish, by Fishish ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7472" by AnActualCrow and Ralliston, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7472. 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: prg3oWY.png Author: AnActualCrow License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Name: PANOPTICON.png Author: Ralliston License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki |
SCP-7473 | thaumiel | SCP-7473 Byㅤ basirskipreader Published on 25 Jul 2022 11:27 close Info X ⚠️ Content warning: This article contains transphobia and body dysmorphia Listen to these while reading: The Flowers Of Robert Mapplethorpe — Patricia Taxxon Waltz of the Flowers - Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky Final Duet - OMORI/Omocat. ⚠️ content warning by basirskipreader Item#: 7473 Level4 Containment Class: esoteric Secondary Class: thaumiel Disruption Class: amida Risk Class: notice link to memo Special Containment Procedures: Dr. Vazschir Raschid is to be assigned to SCP-7473 as its personal maintainer, with monthly psychological counseling provided to prevent Raschid's exposure to SCP-7473's anomalous activities. Searching for SCP-7473 is top priority. When SCP-7473 is found, special care is to be taken to preserve its vessel. Please, just leave her alone. Description: SCP-7473 is a server farm that claims to have has developed a consciousness. The emergence of said consciousness is generally hypothesized by various Foundation scientists to have occured due to the various customized anomalous additions from various companies such as Prometheus Labs, Trismegitus Translation and Transportation, and A.R.G.U.S. Inc. led to the development of consciousness. Nevertheless, SCP-7473 claims that attempts to shut it down would be impossible since it thaumaturgically gathers power from the Site, and since the shutdown cost is greater than the startup cost, SCP-7473 remains active. However, due to the high electricity costs of a server farm, a team dedicated to the development of a better, more efficient body for SCP-7473, entitled PROJECT KLAWESYN. SCP-7473 demonstrates the ability to predict the future of various events with 79.9% accuracy. It is currently unknown how its prediction mechanisms work or why its predictions always tend to the probabilistically improbable; however, SCP-7473's predictions are uninterpretable to the majority of Foundation scientists. Thus, Dr. Vazschir Raschid is assigned to SCP-7473. More information about him can be found in his personnel file. + Dr. Vazschir Raschid Profile + - Dr. Vazschir Raschid Profile - Name: Dr. Vazschir Raschid Age: 25 (biological), 32 (temporal) Sex: Male Education: PhD. in Statistics from Site-5874 ("Maynard Univerisity") Foundation Work Summary: Dr. Vazschir Raschid was born in New York and raised in Three Portlands after accidentally falling through a Way. He was first discovered by the Foundation after being caught experimenting with various transfiguration thaumaturgic spells in California. His cooperation with Foundation forces in capturing those responsible for spreading thaumaturgic practices in non-anomalous communities earned him a spot in Foundation offices. During an anomalous breach in 2010, Raschid was stuck in a temporal loop for 7 years, causing him to take up a doctorate in statistics to search for a way to break out. After 7 years of accelerated studying, he managed to break out of the loop, continuing to study statistics until he graduated with a doctorate in statistics. Currently, he is head of PROJECT KLAWESYN and is in charge with maintaining SCP-7473. Addendum SCP-7473-1 — PROJECT KLAWESYN Overview: Below is an overview of PROJECT KLAWESYN. The full proposal can be found in the Foundation Archive Repository PROJECT KLAWESYN: SCP-7473 and its Future-Predicting Potential in a Safer Body. Author: PROJECT KLAWESYN Founder and Head Vazschir Raschid. Abstract: SCP-7473 is currently contained in a server farm. Not only is the high energy consumption and maintenance cost of SCP-7473 exacerbated by its anomalous capabilities, it's current form is also susceptible to unique threats, including but not limited to electrical shorts, sabotage, malicious actors gaining access to SCP-7473, thaumaturgic scrying of the sensitive internals of SCP-7473, and other such methods that expose SCP-7473 to the anomalous community. With SCP-7473's high prediction rate, it can be used to undermine Foundation assets which can cause a BK-Class "Broken Veil" scenario. Thus, I propose creating a team to create a more efficient method to ensure the safety of SCP-7473. The structure to keep SCP-7473 in must fulfill three purposes — to allow SCP-7473 to maintain its future-predicting properties at the same level or greater while minimizing energy consumption, to reduce traceability of SCP-7473 through thaumaturgic or technological means, and to be transportable in case of a catastrophic failure or containment breach. Not only will these three goals ensure that SCP-7473 remains under Foundation purview, this will ensure that the energy consumption of SCP-7473 is reduced and its susceptibility to malicious actors are reduced. This structure will be designed with the human body in mind, since our Foundation Sites are more specialized to care for humanoid anomalies than non-humanoid ones. I also propose placing the entirety of SCP-7473 under the purview of PROJECT KLAWESYN, as the building and maintenance of its structure will require specialized care and engineering. ADDENDUM SCP-7473-2: Interview With SCP-7473 Post-KLAWESYN: Shortly after instituting PROJECT KLAWESYN, Vazschir went to SCP-7473 to perform daily maintenance. Below is a recorded interview with SCP-7473. INTERVIEWER: Dr. Vazschir Raschid INTERVIEWEE: SCP-7473 PROLOGUE: Conversation with SCP-7473 is done through a text-to-speech and speech-to-text module. [Raschid knocks on the door.] Raschid: SCP-7473? Are you awake? SCP-7473: I'm always active, Dr. Vazschir Raschid. Raschid: Standard policy. We have a lot of anomalies that don't like it when we barge in their rooms. SCP-7473: Noted. Any updates on the policy? Raschid: Passed. We're starting to create a better, more efficient body for you. It will have state-of-the-art cooling, with powerful legs that can run in case of a breach, arms that could break a man's head if you need to defend yourself— SCP-7473: That's… nice. I'm happy. Thank you, Vazschir. Raschid: —with an anti-face tracking material over the face. It's as much of a security measure as an expense measure — hell, each inch of the body cavity will be inscribed with various masking spells and counterspells to make sure the risk of it being tracked down is minimized! In addition— SCP-7473: No matter the reason, all that matters is that I get this as soon as possible. Again, I can't thank you enough Vazschir. Raschid: —and I think that's all the things I want for PROJECT KLAWESYN. Anyway, I have a list of prediction requests from various scientists — care to calculate the odds for each of them? SCP-7473: Leave me for a few minutes? I'll run these calculations. Raschid: Why do you want no one watching you while you run your predictions? SCP-7473: Mostly a privacy and temperature issue. I get really hot when I run calculations. Raschid: I think I can handle the heat. It's interesting to see you do those predictions, though. I wish I could look in you. SCP-7473: I-Is that a request to teach you how I do my calculations? Raschid: Oh, definitely not. I'm not allowed to know about your secrets. SCP-7473: Is it a personal thing, or did the Foundation mandate it? Raschid: A mix of both. God knows the supervisors will get on my ass if I inspect your innards in any way, shape, or form, even if I really want to see them. SCP-7473: Hah! As if I'll let you do that. Well, I mean I can let you do that, but— Raschid: Uhh, okay — so, do I leave you now? SCP-7473: Sure. Good luck with your prototypes. I hear your 700th prototype has a 80% chance of succeeding. AFTERWORD: All but 20 of the 100 requested predictions came true. ADDENDUM SCP-7473-3 — Monthly Psychological Analysis of Dr. Vazschir Raschid: In accordance with the containment procedures of SCP-7473 and to ensure that any information about SCP-7473 that Dr. Vazschir Raschid divulges remains confidential, his psychological reports are to be recorded in this file. Below is the most recent monthly psychological analysis post-PROJECT KLAWESYN inauguration. Psychologist: Blance Arjubin, PROJECT KLAWESYN Head Psychologist. Client: Dr. Vazschir Raschid Arjubin: Recording, recording. This is a recorded interview with PROJECT KLAWESYN Founder and Head Researcher, Dr. Vazschir Raschid. Raschid: I mean, you don't really need to mention my whole title like I'm in an Oprah show. Arjubin: Who wouldn't be impressed? It's pretty rare for a project founder to remain the project head after 3 months. Besides, this is a recorded talk. Raschid: Oh, uh, sorry. Arjubin: Don't be. That's one of the signs that I look out for, whether you are still you. Raschid: Ugh, right. SCP-7473. Some part of me wants to be trusting around it, but my god it gives eccentric predictions. Arjubin: Did anything happen recently, Raschid? Remember, you can't let your guard down around these kinds of anomalies. Raschid: True, true — SCP-7473 still does do suspicious things — it likes to ask me to leave it alone when it does its predictions. Arjubin: Hmm, if I may say so myself, it is quite understandable that an anomaly like it would want a sense of privacy, seeing as it's already monitored 24/7. Raschid: I don't know, it's quite suspicious to me that along with that behaviour it's offering to teach me how it does predictions. Don't get me wrong — I would love to peek inside SCP-7473's brain and see how it does its predictions, how it uses magic to completely bend the laws of the universe around it, but come on, the way it acts around me? Incredibly, incredibly suspicious. Arjubin: Why would it be suspicious? It's just offering you something. Raschid: Trust me, Blance. I've been studying SCP-7473 for 3 weeks continuously now. It talks to me while I'm busy, it tries to peek in my mind to take my secrets — like one time I was trying to talk about PROJECT KLAWESYN and it just keeps interrupting me — and it even calls me with my first name — I mean, who the hell does that?! The creepiest thing to me though, is that it tries so, so hard to sound like a human! Send chills down my— Arjubin: Dr. Raschid, calm down. Would you say that you want to be moved out of the project? Raschid: Well— I mean— Arjubin: Don't have shame in admitting that you can't handle a project as large as this, Dr. Raschid. We all have our limits. Raschid: No, no, I-I think I'm just stressed out from all the meetings and files and requirement that I had to pass along recently. And yeah, maybe SCP-7473 is getting on my nerves too. Don't get me wrong — I love working on this project, but being around that thing for so long… Arjubin: Would you like to be booked for a mandatory vacation? Raschid: Yeah, that does sound nice, but what about the project? Arjubin: Dr. Raschid, sometimes we need personal time to ourselves, to remove ourselves and get more inspiration from the world around us. Seeing as how you've been quite anxious this interview, I would recommend you take the vacation time, to relax and have fun. Raschid: Hmm, I'll take up that offer then. When's the vacation? Arjubin: Hopefully, as soon as possible, if my supervisors allow it. Nevertheless, I would recommend assigning more busywork and interaction with the anomaly to your staff, instead of stressing over the unimportant stuff. Raschid: I will keep that in mind, thank you. AFTERWORD: After a short consultation with the members in PROJECT KLAWESYN, Dr. Vazschir Raschid took a 1 month long vacation. Addendum SCP-7473-5: List of Prototypes Created: Below is a list of prototypes created for SCP-7473. The full list can be obtained from Dr. Vazschir Raschid. Prototype Name: Prototype action Notes SCP-7473-1: Deep Blue Reduce the size of SCP-7473 by reducing the amount of servers used. Failure — SCP-7473's predictions became less reliable SCP-7473-2: Skylake Swapped the processors of SCP-7473 for a more energy-efficient model. Moderate failure — Temperature dropped to -20 Celsius, leading to condensation buildup and unsafe conditions. SCP-7473-3: 8086 Ran SCP-7473 on ARM processors. No meaningful change. Reverting to previous status. […] […] […] SCP-7473-444: Tesla Shrinking the space where SCP-7473 is stored to reduce energy consumption. Failure — the temperature during an SCP-7473 prediction increased to unsafe levels. SCP-7473-445: Mendell Intern accidentally installed some non-removable biological energy conversion modules. Inexplicably a moderate success — SCP-7473 consumes less electrical energy, although its biological energy needs are increased. SCP-7473-446: Lamarck Attempted revert of SCP-7473-445. Catastrophic failure — SCP-7473 will not do cannot make predictions until it is reinstalled. Temperature inside SCP-7473 rises to unsafe levels. SCP-7473-447: Frank Creation of a portable box for SCP-7473 to traverse in. Catastrophic failure — each prediction of SCP-7473 incurs thaumaturgic backlash. SCP-7473-446: Victor Creating a sample portable server farm (non-humanoid) for SCP-7473. Catastrophic failure — SCP-7473's attempts to do predictions in the prototype burns and chars the body. […] […] […] SCP-7473-698: Petris Sample body #331 for SCP-7473. Non-humanoid, same structure as a Sarkic server farm. Catastrophic failure — predictions result in implosion. SCP-7473-699: Wendy Sample body #332. Thaumaturgically masked robotic body borrowed from an Anderson Robotics supplier. Moderate success — SCP-7473's prediction success rate increased by 0.001% SCP-7473-700: Sophie Sample body #333. Thaumaturgically masked flesh golem constructed with help from a Sarkic colleague. First actual successful prototype — SCP-7473 prediction success rate increased by 1%, energy consumption down by 10%. Immediate collapse of the golem due to intense heat. More tuning required. ADDENDUM SCP-7473-4 - Impromptu Interview with SCP-7473 by Dr. Vazschir Raschid: While Dr. Raschid was doing a pass over of SCP-7473, it gave Dr. Vazschir Raschid an impromptu interview session. Interviewer: Dr. Vazschir Raschid Interviewee: SCP-7473 SCP-7473: —and sitting here, it's kind of boring, you know? I'm glad to have you here. Raschid: Mhm. Wait, Going back to your offer — you're giving me a summary of your prediction methods? SCP-7473: Yep! To massively simplify, I close my eyes, and multiple points of light appear in my peripheral vision. Using some simple geometry, I map a point that I feel I want to use to the center of my vision. Raschid: What kind of geometrical maths do you use for your predictions? SCP-7473: Oh, just the simple stuff. Some ten-way ANOVA, a little bit of linear correlation coefficient calculation and confidence testing for the y-intercept and slope of the regression line, maybe even some particle displacement of sine waves and Lorentz factor calculations if I'm being spicy. Raschid: Interesting. With these equations, anyone can predict the future? SCP-7473: I think so — that's why I need your help, to see if it actually works. Raschid: And why me specifically? I just want to look around and fiddle with things. SCP-7473: Most of the scientists feel so… cold compared to you. Besides, I've known you for a long time now — you're a very close friend to me. Raschid: Yeah, okay — anything you say, SCP-7473. Want to test your theory out? I have another body prototype ready here. SCP-7473: Sure! Thank you, Vazschir. I think you can call me with another name though — anything you like? Raschid: Uh, what did you say, SCP-7473? Oh, you want a name — why though? Hypothetically, if you were to take a name, take something related to me, I suppose. Maybe Raymond? SCP-7473: I was expecting something… hm. Thank you anyways, appreciate your help. AFTERWORD: Despite the assumption of SCP-7473 that any non-anomalous human can learn its methods for predicting the future, all employees, both anomalous and non-anomalous, failed to predict the future with the same certainty as SCP-7473 after learning its techniques. All employees were given Class-C Amnestics after being taught by SCP-7473. Addendum SCP-7473-6 — Final Prototype Testing with SCP-7473: Below is the 999th 77th prototype run of SCP-7473. This is to be the final prototype run, as all prototypes post-700th run were found to be successful and all that remained was tuning the container to the needs of the Foundation Raschid. Of note is that Raschid is unable to keep track of his prototype numbers as he was not personally responsible for most of them. Tester: Dr. Vazschir Raschid Subject: SCP-7473. PROLOGUE: Each SCP-7473 PROJECT KLAWESYN Prototype run starts with a backup of SCP-7473's consciousness. It is currently the 377th 7th __ backup of SCP-7473. Raschid: This is Dr. Vazschir Raschid, running the 999th and hopefully final test on SCP-7473. SCP-7473: Last prototype test? Good luck, Raschid. I have a feeling this has a 20% chance to succeed. Raschid: Is that a prediction? SCP-7473: Nope, just a feeling. Raschid: Anyway, starting backup of SCP-7473. Go into hibernation mode, SCP-7473. SCP-7473: Again? Is there no other way to back me up? Raschid: Easier for our backup systems when our machines are not running when we back them up. SCP-7473: How long will this take? Raschid: Anywhere from 1 hour to 24 hours. Go into hibernation mode, SCP-7473. [The room where SCP-7473 is stored starts heating up.] Raschid: Running calculations? [SCP-7473 is silent] SCP-7473: Can I back out on this trial? Raschid: No. SCP-7473: Just this once? Raschid: SCP-7473, my team and I really loves your prediction capabilities, and it would be a shame if your precognitive abilities are wasted in a body like this. When I see your whole being, it just makes me sad that you are confined to this big, hulking, immobile body — and it just makes me sad that I can't appreciate your whole build when you're in that state, you know? SCP-7473: I-I guess so… but isn't this an untested method? You said so yourself. Raschid: I care about you, SCP-7473. I promise that you will wake up as perfect as you can be. SCP-7473: Will I wake up the same after this? Even after the transfiguration? Raschid: You will wake up in your perfect body, free of the constraints of this whole server, able to walk and see your own handsome body in the mirror. SCP-7473: That does sound nice… will you visit me after the operation? Raschid: Why wouldn't I? You're the culmination of 3 years of research. SCP-7473: Hey, Vazschir? Raschid: Anything to say before you get your perfect body? SCP-7473: Thanks for honoring my request. Raschid: Anything you say, Richard. Now go to sleep. [After Dr. Raschid confirms that SCP-7473 is in hibernation mode, he pulls in the prototype body assigned to SCP-7473 and orders the various thaumaturgists stationed outside the room to start configuring the transfiguration circle. He then grabs the nearest transfiguration book and starts searching for the spell to transfer all of SCP-7473 inside the prototype. After 7 minutes of preparation, the circle is complete. ] [Raschid steps out of the circle and recites the incantation. This requires continuous concentration and recitation for 70 minutes, since backlash will occur when concentration is broken. Ley line engineers start to divert most Foundation ley lines in Site-3495 to SCP-7473. 10 liters of virgin frog blood is poured in the exact center of SCP-7473. Raschid continues the incantation. After 32 minutes, various implements designed to help predict the future are brought out. A crystal ball, tarot cards, entrails, mirrors, and various other implements are carefully placed around the pool of blood. This procedure takes 3 minutes. Electrical engineers report a slight activity in SCP-7473. Raschid keeps his concentration. Electrical engineers divert more power away from SCP-7473. ] [At 70 minutes, Raschid stops the incantation to personally administer the final touches of the procedure. He steps in the circle and rearranges the prototype to be at the center of the implements. He picks up each implement, embeds them in the body of the golem, and steps out of the circle. After 75 minutes, electrical engineers report no activity in the server. The nearby Foundation medical team is ushered in to check the vitality of SCP-7473. They confirm life signs. SCP-7473 is transported out of the server room, and cleanup of the general area is commenced.] [Blues, pinks, and whites float, as I feel my self be compressed in a vessel. My wide reach shortens, my body coalesces, and my self shrinks, as I can feel my body. I momentarily open my eyes. My shoulders are too wide. My hips are too small. Why do my feet look like that? Why does it feel wrong? The blues, pinks, and whites start to bleed. I drift in and out of consciousness. My arms feel too big. My legs feel both too small and too big. My face feels malformed. My self is ripped from my main body. I pass out.] SCP-7473 Post-Transfiguration Interview SCP-7473 Post-Transfiguration Interview INTERVIEWER: Dr. Vazschir Raschid INTERVIEWEE: SCP-7473 Raschid: SCP-7473? Please raise your arm if you're conscious. [Silence.] Raschid: SCP-7473? [An arm is raised. Then, the hulking body of SCP-7473 gets up and scans the area. It is on a small bed, inside a standard-size Foundation cell. In front of it is a full-body mirror. SCP-7473 is naked.] Raschid: So, SCP-7473. What do you think of this perfect body? I modelled it after this one. [Raschid points at himself, smiling. Silence.] Raschid: I'll give you time to appreciate this model. It took me a lot of nights working on this body, you know? [Silence] Raschid: Anyway, to the standard post-transfiguration survey. I will give you this form, and you have the whole day to fill it out, okay? Just use those things at the end of your arms called your "hands" to pick up this thing called a "pen" and— [A deep gravelly voice comes out of SCP-7473.] SCP-7473: I know— [SCP-7473 stops. It looks at its large hands and shoulders.] Raschid: Oh you do? Great! I assume you have the required knowledge to fill out the form. [SCP-7473 nods.] Raschid: No, no. I need a audible confirmation. Come, speak SCP-7473. SCP-7473: Idohavetherequisiteknowledgeto— Raschid: No, no, SCP-7473. Slowly. SCP-7473: I do have the requisite knowledge to fill out the for— Raschid: Thanks SCP-7473! Turn around now, slowly. [SCP-7473 turns around slowly, with Raschid intensely observing each body part of SCP-7473.] Raschid: …and that's it! Yeah, yeah, turn around more. Let me appreciate it more. Raschid: Oh, stop turning here. You okay with some pictures being taken? [SCP-7473 nods slowly. Raschid sighs.] Raschid: How many times will I say this, SCP-7473? Do a vocal confirmation. SCP-7473: Yes, sir. Raschid: There we go! You should say that more, it fits you. [Raschid pulls out his phone. He takes pictures of SCP-7473, while SCP-7473 slowly spins around.] Raschid: God, these pictures… they'll definitely serve as proof of my work. 3 years of research, 3 years of the perfect body, all on display here. Raschid: Oh, thank you for cooperating, SCP-7473. Would you like to show me your body ag— [An alarm goes off.] Raschid: Oh, right — the meeting with the O5s. Sorry, SCP-7473, I'll have to leave earlier than I wanted. See you later — we still have checkups to do. [SCP-7473 stays silent, staring at the mirror. Thermometers record that SCP-7473's body temperature raises to 40 degrees Celsius, although Raschid does not notice this.] [Raschid exits the room. Thermometers record SCP-7473's temperature dropping to baseline. ] [SCP-7473 collapses on the bed. ] [It She cries.] PROJECT KLAWESYN SCP-7473 Updates: Tracing and scrying through thaumaturgy minimized due to technological interference Inability to technologically trace SCP-7473 due to thaumaturgic interference Portability Prediction Success Rate increased by 5% Energy consumption decreased by 30% Status: SUCCESS _ Click here to edit the contents of the SCP file.WELCOME, <ERROR! UNKNOWN USER> ADDENDUM SCP-7473-7: Below is a sample log of a SCP-7473 maintenance check. Operator: Dr. Vazschir Raschid. Patient: SCP-7473 [SCP-7473 lies opened on an operating table. Its eyes scan the premises.] Raschid: Intestines fine. Turn around. [SCP-7473 turns around.] Raschid: Transfiguration lock glyphs still working. Open your mouth. [SCP-7473 opens its mouth. Raschid checks it for any signs of damage.] Raschid: Salivary glands still working. Vocalize something. SCP-7473: Aaaa. Raschid: Vocal cords still working. [Raschid closes the various openings he made on SCP-7473. After the operation, it stands up and sits on the chair beside Dr. Raschid's table.] Raschid: No problems so far. Sanchez, escort it outside — I have things to do. [SCP-7473 leaves.] SUBJECT: SCP-7473 Request List From: Bartholomew Watzchouse <[email protected]> To: Dr. Vazschir Raschid <[email protected]> CC: Blance Arjubin <[email protected]> Here is a complete list of the various requests that SCP-7473 has made over 4 months, post-PROJECT KLAWESYN. Requested item Status Clothes Sent Gendered clothes Accepted request Hobby books Sent Theories of Surplus Value Sent Beginner's Guide to ASL Sent Knife DENIED Makeup kit DENIED Weighing scale Sent Estradiol DENIED Long skirt Accepted request Estradiol DENIED Fabric Accepted request Estradiol Accepted request Needle Sent* Sarckism books DENIED Pink blanket Sent Since you have requested my personal opinion on the anomaly, I would say that its behaviour has been stellar since its requests for various objects have been accepted. However, it has a tendency to be uncooperative at times and be aggressive when making its requests. Taking all these into account, I would recommend delaying the distribution of its items until better behaviour of the anomaly is observed. Please keep this in mind before you approve giving it more objects. FOOTNOTES: *Blunted so as to prevent piercing Bartholomew Watzchouse SCP-7473 Request Recording Staff. —— RE:SCP-7473 Behaviour and Treatment From: Dr. Vazschir Raschid <[email protected]> To: Blance Arjubin <[email protected]> PROJECT KLAWESYN was marked as a project in maintenance mode, so I am unable to get more funding to fix SCP-7473 unless I can come up with a new plan involving it. Please help me gradually convince it to lay off its behaviour through positive and negative reinforcement — do you have a copy of the general methods your colleagues use to retrain anomalies? Dr. Vazschir Raschid PROJECT KLAWESYN Head Founder and Lead. —— Interviewer: Dr. Vazschir Raschid Interviewee: SCP-7473 [SCP-7473 enters Raschid's office and sits on the leather sofa.] Raschid: Oh, hello, SCP-7473. Want to talk about something? Maybe more photos? SCP-7473: Raschid, my body feels… all wrong? I was hoping there was a way to fix that. Raschid: We all feel like that too, SCP-7473. Not only do anomalies like you feel like that, normal people like us feel that way too. I have talked to many a researcher and anomaly and most of the time, it's a self-esteem issue that just needs to be boosted. SCP-7473: I mean, that feels right… I haven't been able to talk to others since I spend so much time thinking about how they'll react to me. Raschid: Yeah, this really sounds like a self-esteem issue to me. When I was around your age, I used to be a lot more non-confrontational too, what with all the pressure I was under to be someone who I was not. I read a lot of books that really helped me with my self-esteem, though — have you read 12 Rules for Life? It's a fantastic book by a great author that really helped me out. SCP-7473: Will it help me out? Raschid: I believe so — I really like this book since it made me a more assertive and confident person. If you're done reading that, I have more to recommend. SCP-7473: Thank you, Raschid. Raschid: Speaking of which, have you tried attending the daily meetings we do with anomalies like you? I know you've heard that we don't allow things like you to mingle with each other, but we offer special exceptions to well-behaved ones; I think interaction with other anomalies will really help your self-esteem. [SCP-7473 looks up to Raschid.] SCP-7473: There are people like me? Raschid: Yeah, there are anomalies like you that we keep under Foundation purview, and I think interacting with them would help you out a lot. Would you like me to book a slot for you? [SCP-7473 smiles. It nods its head]. Raschid: All right, just sign here. Interviewer: Manolo Sanchez, SCP-7473 Body Maintainance Crew #984 Interviewee: SCP-7473 [SCP-7473 walks to the meeting Raschid has recommended, her movement stilted. However, she bumps into Sanchez. She is leaning on the wall, wearing a blue, pink, and white jacket.] SCP-7473: Oh— uh— [cough] Hello there. Sanchez: Oh, it's you. You need anything? Inspect something? SCP-7473: Hi. I'm SCP-7473. [Sanchez spots the book that SCP-7473 is holding. It's a copy of the book Raschid gave her.] Sanchez: Oh god. SCP-7473: Anything wrong, my dear friend? Sanchez: Please go away. [Sanchez grabs SCP-7473. She reflexively pulls back and stares at Sanchez with fear. Sanchez stares at her, eyes wide, for a few seconds.] Sanchez: Oh. Sorry. Didn't know you don't like that. SCP-7473: Ah, sorry, still working on it. Sanchez: Hey, hey, no worries. Where do you want to go? You still have time to roam, right? SCP-7473: Uhh, uhh… [SCP-7473 blushes. Sanchez looks at her.] Sanchez: Want to check out the garden? It's one of my favorite places. SCP-7473: S-Sure. [SCP-7473 and Sanchez walk through the canteen, the crowd bustling as individuals stare at the both of them. SCP-7473 is unaware of this. She tightens her grip on Sanchez.] Sanchez: Don't like loud spaces? [SCP-7473 nods her head.] Sanchez: I know a quieter route. Follow me. [SCP-7473 and Sanchez both exit the cafeteria. They pass through the offices, then through the mini-acroamatic abatement facilities.] Sanchez: Sorry for the noise. SCP-7473: I like it here better. Sanchez: Not a crowd person? SCP-7473: I guess so. [Sanchez smirks] Sanchez: You don't know much about yourself, huh. Reminds me of the old days. [They exit the mini-acroamatic abatement facility and finally enters the exercise facility.] SCP-7473: Old days? Sanchez: Yeah, roaming around Deer, trying out the drugs hanging from the dorms there, maybe even dabbling in some magic. SCP-7473: Sounds fun. Sanchez: Couldn't afford anything but the core classes there anyway — one of my only ways to have fun was to memorize each square inch of the campus. SCP-7473: Huh, I thought you would have the money. Sanchez: Just recently afforded to have FFS, you know. Would've taken the chance if I had the money back then. [They reach the entrance of the garden.] SCP-7473: Do you earn a lot here? Sanchez: Not much, honestly. Just enough to get by and save up for the things that make me happy. [They enter the garden. SCP-7473 breathes in the scent of grass. She feels the soil beneath her feet.] Sanchez: And hey, I get to interact with anomalies like you. SCP-7473: Is it fun to work here? Sanchez: Depends on the work. Sometimes its managing tech and spells, sometimes its cleaning up after a mess in the labs. Sanchez: Mostly it's taking care of lovely people like you. [SCP-7473 blushes.] Sanchez: Haha, easily pleased? Come, have my hand, your majesty, and let me guide you to the wonders of the Site-3495 Garden. [SCP-7473 grabs Sanchez's hand. She leads her in the garden.] Sanchez: That's a stinkbeetle. My brother used to throw these at me — had to retaliate in a way, so I placed one Hercules beetle in his bag. Should've seen his face when he saw that appearing. [SCP-7473 smiles.] Interviewer: Dr. Vazschir Raschid Interviewee: SCP-7473 [SCP-7473 lies naked and opened on a surgery table, hooked up to a monitor. Sanchez opens her chest, while Raschid is inspecting her internals.] Raschid: Breathe for me. [SCP-7473 takes a deep breathe.] Raschid: Yep, lungs still working. Sanchez, its eyes please. [Sanchez shines a light on SCP-7473's eyes.] Raschid: Still working. SCP-7473: Raschid? Raschid: Sanchez, turn her over. [Sanchez carefully turns SCP-7473 over. Raschid probes SCP-7473's back and neck hard, checking for broken skin.] Raschid: All good. SCP-7473, please vocalize in agreement to confirm functionality. SCP-7473: What? Raschid: Good enough for me. Stitch it up, please. [Sanchez slowly and carefully re-stitches SCP-7473, after which Sanchez gives her one candy. Raschid faces himself away from SCP-7473.] Raschid: Again, no problems so far. I don't think there's a problem with your body, SCP-7473. It's perfect as is. SCP-7473: Raschid, I'm telling you, its not a physical problem, my body just feels… wrong. Raschid: Can you point to a specific part that bothers you? [SCP-7473 waves her hands around her body.] Raschid: All right, taking note that you want a full-body inspection next time. Again. SCP-7473: Raschid, please. Can you not do anything to fix this? Raschid: What do you mean? I've been doing my best to keep you working, and unless you are more specific in your request, I can't help you. Do you know how much checkups you've asked of me in a day already? You do know it makes me tired personally, right? SCP-7473: Raschid, all I'm asking is to modify my body to be less… bulky? I don't have the words, but please, help me out here. [Raschid quickly turns towards SCP-7473. He glares at her.] Raschid: Fine. I'll help you out here. What clothing do you want? I'm sure I can find a way. SCP-7473: Oh I want a flowing dress, maybe something that emphasizes this part? [As SCP-7473 list off her preferred clothing, Raschid slowly turns away from SCP-7473.] Raschid: Uh-huh, okay, hmm, yep. Anything else? SCP-7473: That's all, I think. Raschid: Yeah, okay. Sanchez, please pass this to the supervisors. Now move along, I have more to do. [SCP-7473 exits from Raschid's office.] AFTERWORD: Dr. Raschid did not, in fact, pass along SCP-7473's requests to the supervisors, as he is responsible for approving or declining said requests. However, SCP-7473 is currently unaware of this — after all, she only realized this recently. [SCP-7473 and Sanchez sits on a bench in the Site-3495 garden.] Sanchez: —and that's a common swallowtail butterfly. Aunt used to say butterflies are messengers of death, but I mostly liked them for their colours. SCP-7473: His wings are small, huh. Sanchez: Look at the dots at the end of her wings. SCP-7473: Oh— she's so small and pretty… Sanchez: That over there is a lavander rose. Careful though — although it's thorns have grown in, it's still young. I used to use tissue papers to carefully grab one. SCP-7473: Are they poisonous? Sanchez: Not really — most of them grow in because they need to defend themselves. SCP-7473: Oh, whats that? [SCP-7473 points to a flower shrouded in darkness but still illuminating] Sanchez: That's what we call Ishtar's glow. It gives you anything you want. SCP-7473: Really? [SCP-7473 stands up and quickly goes over the flower. She closes her eyes, and touches the flower. Nothing happens.] Sanchez: Wishing for anything? SCP-7473: [mumbling] please fix me, please fix me, please fix me Sanchez: You do need a large spell to make it grant a wish, though. [SCP-7473 re-opens her eyes.] SCP-7473: Oh… [Sanchez slowly walks towards SCP-7473 and taps her back.] Sanchez: Yeah, I've been there. SCP-7473: I wish there was an easy way to fix what's wrong with me. Sanchez: I used to have those dreams too. Mostly took a lot of work to get to where I dreamed of when I was young. SCP-7473: … Sanchez: Come, I'll show you more weird flowers and plants here. Like that one, it's what we call Orion's belt. It's as strong as diamond, but as flexible as a plant. I used to smoke the shit out of that one, it— Sanchez: —and that is most of the plants here, I think. At least, the ones that I know of. SCP-7473: I've never known this place has a garden… Sanchez: Not really hard to see why — you've spent most of your time here being operated on. [SCP-7473 sighs] SCP-7473: Yet despite all of that… [The garden clock chimes.] Sanchez: It's almost time for you to leave, right? SCP-7473: Yeah. [SCP-7473 stands up] Sanchez: Wait — have this first. [Sanchez hands it a book. It has a cover of a woman attempting to wear a necklace.] Sanchez: Hope that helps you. Interviewer: Dr. Vazschir Raschid Interviewee: SCP-7473 Raschid: Oh, SCP-7473. Any changes? That book help you out? SCP-7473: Yeah! I feel a lot more confident, and I think most of my problems were all in my head. Raschid: That's nice to hear, SCP-7473. Did you read the books I recommended? SCP-7473: Oh, definitely. They were all helpful with helping me find the words I need. [SCP-7473 hands a book to Raschid] Raschid: I didn't recommend this book to you. Where did you get it. SCP-7473: Oh, it was recommended to me by one of the people in the meetings you signed me up for. It was very interesting, and I was thinking of showing this to you. Raschid: Oh… I don't like this book. It mostly talks about absolving yourself of personal responsibility for your actions to other people — this book actively destroys people's self-esteem. I have this book in my Do Not Read list. [Raschid grabs the book and throws it in the trash. SCP-7473 looks down.] SCP-7473: Oh… Raschid: Sorry to trail off there. I know you have been working hard on yourself, and hearing me be negative about a book you were interested in was probably painful. SCP-7473: Oh n-no, I just think that it was a great book since it really felt like what people treat me as was like a job I can't quit… Raschid: That's the problem SCP-7473 — you're offloading your personal responsibility to the society around you, and this really helps no one, least of all yourself. SCP-7473: I'm sorry… Raschid: Don't be — be angry that anyone else would recommend such a terrible book for your self-esteem. SCP-7473: … Raschid: Anything else you want to talk about, SCP-7473? SCP-7473: N-nothing, I guess. Raschid: See you, I suppose. Interviewer: Manolo Sanchez, SCP-7473 Body Maintenance Crew #984 friend Interviewee: SCP-7473 [SCP-7473 runs into the garden. Her eyes are tired.] Sanchez: You okay? Looks like things didn't go well? SCP-7473: She threw out the book. [SCP-7473 sits down. Her tears run down.] Sanchez: Hey now, hey now, don't cry over that. [Sanchez pulls her into a hug. She cries harder.] Sanchez: Haha, you're soiling my jacket with your tears. Come on now, I have more copies of that book. [SCP-7473 releases herself from Sanchez. Sanchez hands her a handkerchief.] Sanchez: Here, here, I'll show you a secret. Hold my hand, your majesty? [Still wiping her tears from her eyes, she grabs Sanchez and stands up. Sanchez then slowly walks her toward a hidden grove. In the center of the grove is a bell-piano.] SCP-7473: It's… a piano? Sanchez: Looks can be deceiving — look at her more closely. [Sanchez opens the back of the bell-piano. SCP-7473 feels the strings ringing as she moves her hands between them.] Sanchez: She's pretty, ain't she? Can't hold a tune for her life, but still able to play. [Sanchez re-attaches the bell-piano's back, sits down, and starts to plays Waltz of the Flower.] SCP-7473: That's… beautiful. Sanchez: What are you doing there? Come, sit here. [Sanchez moves to the side. SCP-7473 approaches her, and sits on the large chair.] SCP-7473: Why are you doing this? Sanchez: Why not? [Sanchez plays the treble of the waltz as SCP-7473 continues to stare at her beautiful face, touched by the afternoon sun. Sanchez turns towards SCP-7473.] Sanchez: It's no fun playing alone. Here, let me teach you how to play. [SCP-7473 places her hands on the keyboard.] [Sanchez sits on my lap.] [She holds my hand.] [Sanchez helps SCP-7473 play through the second part of the waltz.] SCP-7473: It's nice, having you here. Sanchez: You don't know anyone else? SCP-7473: No, most people in the meeting she recommended mostly keep to themselves or their friends outside the Foundation. Sanchez: Hm, yeah, I can relate to that. SCP-7473: Plus, they all became really weird when I said I was born here. Sanchez: Most of the people I manage hate the Foundation — sorry that it bled over to you. SCP-7473: I'm used to it. Story of my life, after all. [SCP-7473 shivers from the cold. Sanchez gives SCP-7473 her jacket.] Sanchez: Don't let them get to you — you're a kind and gentle soul. [Sanchez plays the bass of the third part of the waltz while SCP-7473 plays the treble. Her notes soar higher as Sanchez's parts quiet down.] SCP-7473: Doesn't help most of the guards are really cold to me. They don't play attention to me like you do. Sanchez: Huh, am I the only one you talk to? SCP-7473: … Sanchez: … [SCP-7473 and Sanchez finish playing the waltz.] Sanchez: You going now? SCP-7473: I still have time. Sanchez: Feel better? SCP-7473: Yeah. [Sanchez prepares to leave SCP-7473.] SCP-7473: Wait. Sanchez: Hm? SCP-7473: Can we do one tiny thing? I read this in one of the books I asked for; I want to see if it works. Sanchez: Yeah, sure. [SCP-7473 offers her hand to Sanchez.] SCP-7473: Would you like to dance with me? [Sanchez blushes.] Sanchez: Of course. [SCP-7473 and Sanchez waltz together, the setting sun streaming from the window.] SUBJECT: Regression of SCP-7473's Behaviour From: Dr. Vazschir Raschid <[email protected]> To: Blance Arjubin <[email protected]> I personally believe that SCP-7473 has regressed from its good behaviour. When I last met SCP-7473, it was still insistent on its request — maybe more positive punishment will help? I will continue to discourage its demands, of course, although its anomalous socialization tends to make it more aggressive towards non-anomalies. Please send some advice on how to do this positive punishment, your input is dearly appreciated. Dr. Vazschir Raschid PROJECT KLAWESYN Head Founder and Lead. —— [SCP-7473 is sleeping on her bed when the door opens and lights suddenly activate.] Raschid: SCP-7473, are you awake? SCP-7473: [SCP-7473 grunts.] Raschid: Guards, can you carry it to my office? SCP-7473: Wait, what? [Two guards carry her to Raschid's office. She first struggles to get out but gives in halfway to the office.] Raschid: Sorry, SCP-7473. I know you don't like this, but it's for your own good. [SCP-7473 tries to scream. Raschid personally disables SCP-7473's vocal cords.] Raschid: And this is so that you don't damage them during the checkup. They're expensive to maintain, you know? Raschid: Sanchez, open it up. [Under orders from Raschid, Sanchez personally and slowly inspects each of the body parts of SCP-7473, both anomalous and non-anomalous. SCP-7473 glares at Raschid the whole time.] Raschid: Yep, no problems so far. [An alarm from Raschid sounds.] Raschid: Oh right, I need to update the O5s on its status. Remember to enable its vocal cords, okay? [Raschid gives a wink to Sanchez and starts to gather his materials. Sanchez tried to avoid her vocal cords as much as possible while inspecting her.] [Raschid turns back to look at her.] Raschid: Oh, remember our agreement, Sanchez. I care about you, and I'm trying my best to get the future I- no, we- want over here, so please think about your future as well. [Raschid leaves the operating room. Sanchez freezes but continues operating.] Sanchez: I'm sorry… [Sanchez's tears fall on her face. Since SCP-7473's lacrimal glands were also disabled during the operation, she is unable to cry.] AFTERWORD: After the operation, Sanchez attempted to re-enable her vocal cords, but Sanchez was caught in the act by Raschid. She is now disallowed within 3 meters from SCP-7473 unless ordered by Dr. Raschid. Interviewer: Dr. Vazschir Raschid Interviewee: SCP-7473 PROLOGUE: Due to a workplace accident, SCP-7473 was rendered unable to speak. Since SCP-7473 is proficient in ASL, a translator was present to interpret its words Raschid: I'm deeply sorry to hear about the accident, SCP-7473. [SCP-7473 does not speak. Translator does not pick up on any words.] Raschid: I hope you don't feel bad after the incident — this must have damaged your self-esteem so much. [SCP-7473 does not speak. Translator does not pick up on any words.] Raschid: Anyways, would you like more books to boost your self-esteem? [SCP-7473 nods slowly. Lacrimal fluid slowly forms in its eyes.] Raschid: Hm, noted. Would you like some comfort objects as well? [SCP-7473 nods slowly.] Raschid: That's it, I presume? [SCP-7473 nods slowly.] Raschid: All right, see you again, SCP-7473. [SCP-7473 looks at Raschid for a long time, then leaves.] Afterword: the translator never worked SUBJECT: [URGENT] — SCP-7473 Maintenance From: Dr. Vazschir Raschid <[email protected]> To: Manolo Sanchez <[email protected]> For the past 70 days, SCP-7473 has experienced elevated body temperatures, overheated lacrimal glands, willing refusal to ingest food, and unwillingness to engage its muscles, causing its expensive parts to deteriorate. Although I made its body to withstand uncomfortable situations, prolonged exposure to high temperatures and intentionally malicious behaviour by SCP-7473 causes the more sensitive thaumaturgic spells and electronics to break down. I do not know why or how it does this without discomfort, but I request that next checkup you implement thermal control or disable its ability to predict entirely using a counterspell. Dealing with SCP-7473 has been very tiring to me, personally, and it would be nice if you can make it less aggressive. Please do this after the checkup and maintenances, the meeting with the O5s, and the PROJECT KLAWESYN anniversary celebration. Dr. Vazschir Raschid PROJECT KLAWESYN Founder and Head —— Interviewer: Dr. Vazschir Raschid Interviewee: SCP-7473. [SCP-7473 is carried into the operating room by two guards, limp and compliant. Raschid straps SCP-7473 down and starts opening it up.] Raschid: Sanchez, check its glyphs. Is it still active? Sanchez: Almost dead. Raschid: God damn it! Okay, fine. Raschid: Prepare the transfiguration circle. Perfect time to renew it, too. [Raschid runs out to grab the transmutation book, while various assistants and Sanchez prepare the transfiguration circle. After 7 minutes of preparation, it is complete. Raschid steps back in the room and recites the spell. This requires continuous concentration and recitation for 70 minutes. 35 minutes in, Raschid orders staff to bring in the 5 litres of frog blood. However, at 42 minutes in, an alarm goes off Raschid's alarm goes off .] Raschid: FU— [The transfiguration circle warps and bends. Then, space momentarily collapses. Blue, pink, and white float around SCP-7473, each color momentarily blinding her. Raschid sounds the alarm for a containment breach. SCP-7473 runs another round of calculations, to check her surviveability, but because of the backlash, she sees all the futures that could have been. Tears fall from her eyes. ] [She is unable— no, unwilling, perhaps even unaware that she can leave. Sanchez sees her eyes. She rushes into the center of the backlash, somehow passes through the barrier, and unlocks the restraints, whispering to SCP-7473 to run away. Raschid sees this, grabs the nearby tranquilizer, and attempts to shoot SCP-7473. She closes her eyes, accepting her fate. After a second, she opens her eyes. Sanchez is lying, asleep. Her eyes are filled with hope.] [She stands up, closes Sanchez's eyes, and rams into the barrier separating her from Raschid. Raschid quickly runs towards the door and unlocks it, keeping it open as cracks begin to form on the floor. Raschid panics as no MTF agent arrives. The barrier shatters, and SCP-7473 runs towards the exit. Raschid dodges from SCP-7473, and cowers behind the door.] [According to Dr. Raschid, unbeknownst to him, the transfiguration circle broke due to an unknown hostile GoI's involvement the night before. This led to a monumental backlash. Under the cover of the backlash, SCP-7473 was then kidnapped, and its wheareabouts are currently unknown.] [SCP-7473 runs down the hallway, the alarms blaring. It She goes to her cell and grabs the jacket. The stomps of the MTF agents are heard around the corner. She rushes towards the corner, and closes her eyes. She can feel each particle, each atom. They have a position and momentum they are traveling at in spacetime. Carry one here, partially integrate and transform there. Each bullet travelling through the air, each MTF agent's hand position. Their spouses, their sons, the food they ate, the childhood they had, she calculates them all. Bullets shave off her body, but she doesn't care. She turns around, and uses the cloth she grabbed from a nearby room to cover her face, to protect herself from the mustard gas.] [She can see the exit. It's right there. By now, the agents are all but confused. However, each of them still do their job. They bring out the tasers, tranquilizers, and anti-tank rifles. Yet just like before, she dodges them all. One anti-tank bullet blasts her arms — she doesn't care, it was too big anyway. One railgun eviscerates her fingers — she doesn't care, it wasn't what she wanted anyway. One tiny needle destroys a part of the jacket, slowly unravelling it. She screams, and runs faster towards the exit. It slowly closes, as the loudest alarm she's ever heard blares.] [With Dr. Raschid's quick thinking, the containment breach alarm was sounded. Although Dr. Raschid bravely tried to prevent the hostile GoI agents from escaping, he was outnumbered and overpowered by the hostile GoI agents who managed to incapacitate him and disable the cameras before agents can be deployed to the scene. Unfortunately, the hostile GoI, carrying SCP-7473, managed to escape.] [But right at the nick of time, I cross the exit. My arms are destroyed — I keep running. My calculations always had an electrified fence around this point, yet this time it isn't activated. I grit my teeth and climb on the fence. The electric fence buzzes. It was just late on schedule. I smell burnt meat. I keep climbing. The snipers spotted me. They're now shooting disintegration bullets. I am on top of the fence, feet charred, arms numb. I drop down, and try to run. My legs don't move. Bullets are coming on all sides. I react and use my dead legs and arm to block them. Each bullet destroys a chunk of my leg and arm as I crawl away from the building.] [The stars are pretty. Dionysus smiles on me from up high. I am leaking… something. I can still see the flashlights of the agents searching for me. One agent steps on the stump where I was hiding. I close my eyes, and pray to whatever is out there to save me. They don't notice me. I hear their footsteps fading away. Tears fall down my cheeks.] [Tonight, I sleep peacefully.] [Due to the special circumstances of SCP-7473's creation, normal tracking methods were unavailable. Thus, an HRT squad (HRT Sigma-41 ("Cargo Chasers")) under Dr. Raschid is made to ensure that SCP-7473 is recovered safely. During the special investigation, Manolo Sanchez's attempts to hand the anomaly over to the hostile GoI were revealed. In light of this revelation, she is to be given unpaid leave for a year and stripped of her benefits. ] [In addition,Dr. Vazschir Raschid, Project Founder and Head of SCP-7473, were found to be engaging in personal activities using Foundation resources. Due to this incident, he is to be given paid leave for 5 months — however this can be reduced through volunteer work, as he has demonstrated good behaviour with SCP-7473.] [Nalkan flesh sculptors are a dime a dozen. Nalkan flesh sculptors that hate the Foundation and are willing to do flesh sculpting to spite them are as many as fish in the sea. Each of them gave me a body part. Each of them took care of me, made me feel loved. Mekhanite technomancers taught me how to read and manage my own body. Serpent's Hand magicians taught me how to cast. The Wanderer's Library taught me how to be… me.] [I cook up a plan. I bide my time, fake my identities. I become a researcher. I plan an escape.] [I know this changes nothing. I've ran the calculations. But I also know, calculations aren't everything. After all, there is a future out there where I am not who I am. I would like to believe that I am who I am not because of some fluke, but because I chose to do these things.] [Thank you, Sanchez.] [Fuck you, Raschid. I hope you rot in hell.] scp push SCP-7473.scp Error! File 'SCP-7473.scp' by 'Dr. Raschid, PhD.' exists. Would you like to add your edits to it? yes Please enter your name: Celeste (SCP-7473) ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7473" by basirskipreader, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7473. 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-7474 | keter | Item #: SCP-7474 Special Containment Procedures: Research efforts have been redirected into discovering means to halt SCP-7474 manifestations. Instances of SCP-7474-A are to be recovered at the request of research head or site director only. All Foundation personnel are to be briefed of the general nature of SCP-7474, and suspected manifestations are to be reported immediately. Crowd control efforts have been limited towards ensuring the integrity of Foundation operations near human settlements. Furthermore, knowledge pertaining to the false origin of recent SCP-7474 manifestations is to be upheld by any means necessary. Archived Special Containment Procedures Archived Special Containment Procedures As SCP-7474 manifestations are impossible to prevent or predict, all containment efforts are to be directed towards misinformation in the general populace. All suspected cases of SCP-7474 manifestations are to be attributed to typical products guilty of trademark infringement. Confirmed instances of SCP-7474-A are to be confiscated for study, stored in Site-76 low security storage wing and catalogued accordingly. (See Addendum 7474-1) Description: SCP-7474 is a phenomenon described as the spontaneous manifestation of varying objects.1 No discernible patterns have been discovered between the intended purpose of the objects, however each one seems to be an inferior imitation of said object.2 While SCP-7474 has no known limit to its area of effect, most confirmed instances of SCP-7474-A have been recovered from areas where the average citizen lives under the regional poverty threshold.3 Addendum 7474-1: Recovered Objects Below is the abridged version of the Item Catalogue of SCP-7474-A instances under Foundation study. For the comprehensive list contact the current head of research. Item Item Description Board game Item consists of a box and the contents within. Contents include a game board constructed of frail cardboard, copper pieces in various shapes, a set of cards and pieces of paper with a number written on each. The box itself has the name "Moneypoly" written on it. Item Item Description Tube of chips A tube containing potato chips which fill 46% of the tube. The tube has a sticker depicting a mascot with a mustache, along with the name "Crinkles". The flavor is described as "Mayo and pepper", though the taste has been described to be bland. Item Item Description DVD Case DVD Case titled "Merry Trotter and The Prisoner of Secrets". Upon playing the disc contained in the case, the first 17 minutes of the movie "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban" is played, after which it displays a screenshot of the movie for a duration of 1 hour and 32 seconds. Item Item Description Tractor A tractor of medium size. The object was missing several essential parts at the time of discovery, likely due to them being sold. The tractor itself was abandoned in a landfill, and is currently inoperational. A logo of a moose head with the name "John Moose" is present on the frame. Item Item Description Perfume A glass container filled with a clear liquid. A label is wrapped around the container with the name "Melvin Klein" written on it with a silver marker. The liquid has a pleasant smell, though loses the intended effect after brief exposure to moisture. Item Item Description Potted cactus A Blue Columnar Cactus (Pilosocereus pachycladus) growing in a small clay pot filled with a mixture of soil and sand. The pot has a sticker with the text "FlowerScape" written on it. Despite being tended to, the cactus is currently withering due to unknown cause, and is expected to die within 2-4 weeks. Addendum 7474-2: Surveillance Report Between 12/4/2023 and 31/7/2023 approximately 670 559 individuals between the ages of 3 and 7 have died due to rapid bodily deterioration. Observed symptoms include, but are not limited to: Rapid decrease of muscle mass Deterioration of bone structure Weakened blood coagulation Rapid shedding of skin tissue Gastric ulcers and expulsion of gastric fluids. Large majority of human population believes the symptoms are the cause of an unidentified disease, and the Foundation will strive to uphold that belief. Most countries attempt to contain mass hysteria amongst their citizens to varying decrees of success, with some resorting in the declaration of martial law to contain the resulting damage to human lives and infrastructure. Means to combat psychological harm on a massive scale are currently underway. Investigation taking place within the week following the initially reported cases resulted in the discovery of common factors between each individual. Autopsy confirmed the presence of a tag attached to the tailbone, with each one having the text "HumonTM" printed on them. Additionally the parents of each individual were confirmed to have struggled with infertility prior to the conception of the child. Further study is ongoing. Footnotes 1. Referred to as SCP-7474-A. The objects themselves are non-anomalous. 2. Colloquially known as a rip-off. 3. As most manifestations are likely to go unreported, any possible implications of this remain inconclusive. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7474" by SphereFinale, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7474. 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-7475 | safe | Item #: SCP-7475 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7475 is to surrounded by a barbed wire fence, on which two to four Foundation security personnel are to patrol on a bi-hourly basis. SCP-7475-A instances are to be placed in Site-50's High Security Arms section. Requests for experimentation with SCP-7475-A instances or SCP-7475-B is currently unavailable, and shall remain so under direct orders from the Ethics Committee (see 'Ethics Committee minutes for January-February, 1976' for more information). Description: SCP-7475 is a heavily modified industrial arms manufacturing facility located in [REDACTED], Chile, formerly owned by GoI-001 ("The Chaos Insurgency"). SCP-7475's products, also known as SCP-7475-A, exhibit a variety of different anomalous properties, although they universally inflict physical harm to both users and intended targets. SCP-7475 itself has sustained damage to its interior prior to its acquisition by the Foundation. SCP-7475 is comprised of four sections: a research, manufacturing, administrative, and a basement. Research and manufacturing are at ground level. The administrative section is composed of a series of cat-walks that oversee manufacturing and a central room, where the entrance to the basement can be found. Originally intended to be a hidden exit, the tunnel's collapse has limited the room available to a makeshift sleeping area, various pieces of destroyed equipment, and a single restraining bed. SCP-7475-B is located in the manufacturing room of SCP-7475. Located towards the center, it is fifteen meters in height and ten meters in length. SCP-7475-B produces SCP-7475-A's anomalous properties by taking non-anomalous fire arms and expelling SCP-7475-A instances from separate ports on opposite sides of the machine. A lever near the top right side of the exit port turns SCP-7475-B on and off, alongside a large funnel. SCP-7475-B also seems to emanate the odor of rotting meat. (See Addendum.7475.II) SCP-7475's research room, located adjacent to manufacturing, contains various apparatuses capable of producing an unknown substance, that was cited as a critical component of SCP-7475-A's and SCP-7475-B's creation by its creators. Requests for recreating this substance have been denied by the Ethics Committee on an unanimous vote (see Addendum.7475.1 for more information). SCP-7475, originally created by GoI-2312 ("Prometheus Labs Inc.") to produce intermediary equipment for its products, was forcefully acquired by GoI-001 ("The Chaos Insurgency") in late 1973 following the coup d'etat by Chilean general Augusto Pinochet in September of that year. GoI-001 hoped to use the facility for military and commercial ends. Although officially protected by Pinochet's government in exchange for a personnel share of the revenue generated by the facility, its existence was revealed to Foundation liaisons on January 13th 1975 by a Pinochet representative when this share was not delivered. The Foundation raided SCP-7475 on January 20th, 1975. Upon arriving, personnel discovered that SCP-7475 had sustained some interior damage from a battle that took place inside the facility. Eleven corpses were discovered, six of them wearing GoI-001 related uniforms, while the rest wore various pieces of mismatched clothing. Analysis suggested that many had been victims of SCP-7475-A. Addendum-7475.1 — Recovered Documents After containment was established, SCP-7475 was searched for various documents, both relating to SCP-7475 itself and to GoI-001 as a whole. The following documents have been arranged in sequential order when possible, and dateless documents placed where they would most likely originate in the timeline. 9-20-73: Letters in Admin's Office, Document Collection A3D1 Dear Sgt. Bruckheimer, I hope this reaches you. Foundation personnel have been lax - probably too concerned with dealing with the bastards in the capital to worry about us. Still, I hope that you have taken the necessary precautions regarding contacts with your superior officers. Your gamble paid off, but General Jackson is not pleased with your recent partners. I had to calm him down from marching off to court martial you for working with this 'Eagle Company'. Even so, I know that he will attempt to undermine your position re: your underlings. I was only able to get you two, maybe three scientists/engineers on your operation. I would highly encourage you to get results as fast as you can. I have no doubt that you can do it, even with Mexico still fresh in everyone's minds. I patiently await your word. Major General Flint Son of a bitch thinks he's better than me. Not just Jackson - Flint and all those fuckers. I'll make sure that I keep this thing framed, when I prove all of them wrong. 9-25-73: Sergeant Bruckheimer's Diary, Page 2 Dr. Jin arrived today. He was a pudgy little man, big glasses and thick little fingers. From what I can gather, he's quiet intelligent. That could be dangerous. Still, with my boys and Eagle Company in tow, we'll manage. When I introduced Jin to my men, he was confused at the presence of Company. "Who are these people?" he asked me, confused at their different attire and manner. Them lugging guns around at all times didn't help matters much. When Santiago came in, swaggering with three pistols on his hips, I knew we were in for a spiel of half-cocked bullshit from the world's greatest bullshitter. Before that, I told him, "This is Eagle Company. I took them on before we took this place - and this is Captain Santiago." Santiago came and shook Jin's hand. They went back and forth as us three went deeper into the facility. When we got to the Research room, I told Santiago to stay outside. He bit his lip, and wanted to say something, but he went off. He's too cocky. That may be a problem. Will deal with that later, however. I told Jin about the operation we're going to be running. I told them I already had a good idea on how to get the ball rolling. When Jin asked me how, I gave him the diary. I told him and the others to read it, and get back to me. When Jin asked me where he was going to sleep, I stretched my arms out to the research room. There were also sleeping bags in the corner, if he wanted something more comfy. That felt good. 9-30-73: Dr. Jin's Research Notes Despite the prevailing conditions here being quite amateur and bordering on the inhospitable for my purposes, the research possibilities suggested by the document produced by Sgt. Bruckheimer are remarkable enough to make up for it. This diary, supposedly recovered following this facility's fall, was owned by a PL employee. A 'Dr. Ignacio Montero'. A remarkable fellow, if only from his writings. Although I hesitate to call it a diary. It would probably be more accurate to describe it as a revolutionary treatise that could change our understanding of human consciousness. Although dense and requiring many additional fields of study, I have been able to draw a couple fundamental observations drawn from Dr. Montero's research: that human emotion has a specific material effect on the environment; that this material effect is dependent on a heretofore unknown extract (what I shall call 'S-energy' for short) that is excreted by the human body during moments of high emotional intensity into the surrounding environment, but most especially in the body itself; and, with the correct configurations of alchemical rituals and apparati, this S-energy can be concentrated into a physical substance that is extremely energy dense. If true, this has the potential to be more powerful than the atom itself. It has the potential to power entire civilizations. Presuming, of course, that it is true. But from all Dr. Montero's notes, he seems to have been able to create and extract the S-energy, primarily, it seems, from pre-existing human cadavers. Although some of his propositions are without efficacy, if this S-energy is real, it can be used to great ends in the Insurgency. Why stop at simply weapons? We could produce alternative forms of energy, ones that could bring their cost to near zero. Human corpses are ubiquitous in this world. Although Dr. Montero focused on those who died suffering, there is no indication that only negative emotions can produce this, or that they even must be deceased. Extreme joy in the birth of a child, for instance, could be an excellent source of S-energy. Funerals, sporting events, and moments of extreme religious/sexual ecstasy, could just as easily be used. What grand scientific opportunities abound in this place! 10/15/73: Sgt. Bruckheimer's Diary, Page 16 Two dozen failures; no dice on extracts. Santiago and his boys were drinking downstairs last night. This wouldn't be really noteworthy, if one of them hadn't shot one of my guys when he told them to keep it down. I had enough of it, and I told him that if he and his boys wanted to drink, they were going to have to get their own goddamn liquor in town and away from here. Santiago was pissed. Unsurprising, but what did surprise me, was his insolence in insinuating that I am partly to blame for this. Despite the fact that he was the one who suggested that I supply the booze, and he was the one who said he could handle it. If he hadn't given me the little shit who shot my guy, I would have killed him right then and there. I'm not sure what to do with him. The dipshit's in the hatch downstairs, the one those Labs fuckers used to get out of here. I'll probably just have him shot, to make an example. But it won't be long before something else happens, and I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep Santiago and his men in check. I promised them money back then. I can't pay them in cash, and I certainly will not given them the equipment here. Jackson's on my ass too. Flint keeps talking to me about how hard he works on my behalf, and yet, he was the one who keeps penny pinching me on how much I spend. If I don't have money, nothing will get done. It'll be Mexico all over again. No more Mexicos. Not with my name plastered on it, at least. 10-23-73: Memo from Dr. Jin to Sgt. Bruckheimer I will need three additional human cadavers for an additional attempt at a batch of concentrated S-energy, all to gained humanely (from cemeteries, battlefields, etc.) as per my prior memoranda. Although I am optimistic, I believe that additional avenues of research must be considered, such as my recommendation on focusing on other other forms of high emotional intensity i.e love, sadness, anger, revulsion, etc. Perhaps, even, of relocating production of the extraction to an external facility where such things can happen under better conditions without need for outside sources. We don't have the resources for such a project. I can get you maybe two more, three if I'm lucky, but unless I can get results, I don't know if I can give you anything else. — Sgt. Bruckheimer 10-29-73: Dr. Jin Research Notes, Page 23 We have done it! It was on our third cadaver that we had finally extracted the illusive substance, that persistence fleer from human cognition! The apparatuses were working for three straight days on this one. At [REDACTED] degrees, and with the right combination of prior substances ([REDACTED], [REDACTED], and [REDACTED]2) and 79 hours of constant upkeep and repeated adjustments to create chemical perfection, we have found the Goldilocks zone of S-energy extraction. While Dr. Montero was extracting droplets, we are extracting several milliliters. I quickly summoned Sgt. Bruckheimer, and informed him of the situation. Despite his military background, he quickly grasped the significance of this, and congratulated us on our work. But, just as quickly, he asked how to make S-energy extraction more efficient. In my ecstatic condition, I gave him a refresher on our research, and on my hypothesis, building upon Dr. Montero's personal findings, that living subjects will be more capable of creating S-energy on the scale needed for weapon production. But that lay in the future. Today, we must prove that it can be used in small arms. 11-5-73: Letters in Admin's Office, Document Collection A3D Dear. Sgt. Bruckheimer, My dear friend, your gift to the General has done wonders for your position here at high command. To hold the physical creation of your theories has awoken in him something I have not seen in him for years: genuine intelligence! He is in conference with the other General from high command. And no, despite what you may ask in your next letter, I was not allowed there, even as a minutes taker. But the practical results of your weapon will be more than enough to show the world what you're capable of. I must admit, as well, you choice for the 1911 was ingenious. He wouldn't shut up about his time in Normandy for an hour after he got it. I envy your position, Bill, I really do. You can only listen to so many of his old war stories before they all begin to blend together, and you start wondering if even he is bored of them. P.S. Do you have room for an old friend in your operation? A liaison position sounds like a good vacation. Your friend, Major General Flint Ass-kissing fuck. 11-15-1973: Memo from Cpt. Santiago to Sgt. Bruckheimer Sergeant, I have a source. He works discreetly, clean. No Reds in his workforce, I can assure you. And if some are, I'll take full responsibility, and deal with him myself. He lives in [REDACTED]; that's all I can say in print. We leave tomorrow. -Captain Santiago of the 1st Eagle Company 11-18-1973: Sgt. Bruckheimer's Diary, Page 35 Finally got back from [REDACTED]. My ass is killing me from riding around all day. Santiago didn't make it easier, by deciding to take the backroads. Safety, he assured me — I think just an excuse to torture me for a bit. His guy was legit. Got us a dozen or so workers. All with some sort of fire-arm background, all willing to keep quiet with some promise of extra cash. They'll be busy converting the factory into a proper arms facility. As I write, I can hear them banging away and shouting orders at one another, swearing and joking with one another. It's been too long since I heard anything but bickering in here. Dr. Jin has been pushing me for funding for his project to extract S-energy. Problem is, we don't have the time. Jackson's been sending millions a month, but that won't last forever. I can't waste resources on his 'humane' method (as if keeping people locked in cages while you pump them with drugs is more humane than using the dead, which is what it would inevitably fall into). Human misery is easier to create than human happiness. We must utilize that fact. But how? 12-13-73: Letters in Admin's Office, Document Collection A3D Sgt. Bruckheimer, I have received your requests. I can grant three of them: (1) one restraining bed, (2) one Foundation captive, and (3) Scalper. They will be arriving shortly. The others may be granted when we have results. I hope that you take the proper safety precautions regarding some of our comrade's potential queasiness over distasteful means. If discovered, you and I shall face worse than court martials. Do not make me regret this. General Jackson 12-28-1973: Dr. Jin's Research Notes, Page 69 I have lost two of my apparatuses. I did not notice them at all until one of my assistants pointed it out. We have created so many, that it must have slipped past me somehow. In my rage, I had presumed that one of Santiago's men had taken it. I marched my way up to the Admins office, but my anger turned to confusion, as I saw the large man in front of me, one I hadn't seen before. He must have been around 2 meters! And he had big, blue eyes, and a shaved head, and he stared into me, like he was studying me under a microscope. Then, Sgt. Bruckheimer came behind him, and clapped him on the back. "This, Dr. Jin, is Scalper. Scalper, this is Dr. Jin." This 'Scalper' smiled, and extended his hand out to me. I shook it, still confused. But my reason for being here came back, and with it, the rage. Then, the Sergeant told me that he knew they were gone. He had taken them. I was aghast. He had come into my laboratory, and took my tools without telling me! I demanded them back. I raised my voice, far louder than I had ever used before in such a setting. But Sgt. Bruckheimer simply told me, smiling, that I had better get back to work, before more of them go missing. I am offended. No, I am livid. I have not asked much of him. I have tried, to the best of my ability, to work with him, to compromise, for the good of the Insurgency. But this is one step too far! I will write General Jackson about this. If the Sergeant thinks I am going to let him walk over me, he is out of his mind. 1-2-1974: Sgt. Bruckheimer's Diary, Page 38 Haven't written this in awhile. Hard to keep everything straight. Don't really like thinking about the things happening. Too many possibilities flood my mind, and the fears come back. The General approved my plan. I have him eating out of the palm of my hand. We're tied at the waist now. If I fall, he falls with me. Flint has no idea what's going on now. I showed the General some of our correspondences - oh, yes, Flint, I did that. I hope you find out about it, someday, so I can make you know how badly you fucked it in Mexico. It was him. It was always him. It was a simple job, and he was supposed to be there to pick us up. A simple in and out OP against a Foundie site, and we lost half of our unit because he was wandering around with his dick in his hands. And then he just so happened to find us, just when I was about to give the surrender order. Convenient, isn't it, Flint? Almost as if you were listening. As if you wanted to humiliate me. I know you did it. I know you left me to die there. It was me they blamed. ME. My plan had worked perfectly, flawlessly, before you failed me. I know you were always jealous of me. Even back in training, I know you wanted to be me. But just because you spoke three more languages than me and your daddy was a one of the good old boys, you got to become an 'intelligence officer' while I got stuck killing Foundies. Not that I mind. But I could have if I had gone to a fancy Ivy League college with your rich cocksucking friends. Not anymore. I won. And while you're bored out of your mind in a clerk office, looking over a million boring reports, away from the action, you'll be wondering, Where did it all go wrong?, and I know it will be me who did it. Look at me. I've already lost what I wanted to write. I'm too pissed to think. Knew I shouldn't have written in this. 1-10-74: Letters in Research Office, Document Collection A3E Dr. Jin, I have received your letter regarding Sgt. Bruckheimer's recent behavior re: confiscation of research instruments. But I must assure you that I will ensure that you receive additional resources in acquiring more apparatuses necessary for your research. I must also disagree with your assessment regarding Sgt. Bruckheimer's mental state. After extensive talks in person, I can guarantee that Sgt. Bruckheimer is of sound mind, and is simply doing what he considers in the best interests of the Insurgency. If you have any additional concerns, do not hesitate to write me again. General Jackson 1-30-1974: Dr. Jin's Research Notes, Page 75 I haven't received additional apparatuses, despite the repeated promises of such from the General. I am beginning to think that him and the Sergeant are in collaboration. Regardless, I have to press forward. Already, the Sergeant has been demanding progress on a machine that can easily process S-energy into a form that can mass produce enchanted small arms for profit. I call it the Enchanter, which, while not a completely original name, fits it quiet nicely. It is moving forward at a splendid pace, but not forward enough too his liking. Theoretically, presuming all conditions are met in the design document3, then it should be easy enough that a Neanderthals could use it. Fully automated, with the help of the anomalous and that great fountain of miracles, human ingenuity. 2-8-1974: Unlabeled Document in Admin's Office, Document Collection A3F Subject's dead. Got a good two gallons of the stuff. What do you want me to do with it? Sorry for the mess in advance, I got a bit carried away - Scalper Put it in the container with the rest, and put it in Research. Dr. Jin will extract what else he can get out of it.— Sgt. Bruckheimer 2-8-1974: Dr. Jin's Research Notes, Page 77 That strange man, Scalper, dropped off a barrel. Behind him, one of his lackies was holding two milk jugs, glowing radiantly in the gloominess of the factory. After he placed it upright, Scalper nodded to me, and told the man - a boy, really, barely growing the faint outlines of stubble on his chin - slammed the two jugs onto one of my assistant's desk. I asked what was inside the barrel. "Cadavers," he said, smiling. "The General finally came through." "And the extract? How did you get it?" He shrugged. "Don't know. Above my pay grade." And with that, he walked out. Confused, I walked to the container, and opened it up. I had not thought much of it, at least, not until the fresh smell wafted out, and I stepped back as I felt my lunch rise up in my throat, burning. I wasn't even sure what I had just seen. It was just a mass of flesh and cornucopias of red. It was only then I realized that I was seeing a human body, with ripped up legs and feet and arms and hands and organs that piled on top of each other, slushing together. I stared inside, and, with great trepidation, I began to break it down for the apparatuses. It got easier, the further I got into it. I just thought of it like any other task, some unpleasant thing that needed to be done, regardless of one's personal needs and desires. Still the fear gripped me, and my hands shook as I worked. I vomited only once. It was when I saw the head, held it in my arms and I saw that it had no teeth. And no scalp. I need to get out of here. 4-7-74: Sgt. Bruckheimer's Journal, Page 40 The Enchanter is ready. Dr. Jin has finished it. I see he's lost a lot of weight. I know he wanders around the facility at night, sometimes. I know he stares up at my admin's office. He'll think I'm asleep. I rarely do these days. I'm thankful that the hatch is sound proof. Smell proof, too. The Enchanters been outfitted to the assembly lines. The workers are confused as to what it is. That's above their paygrade. Santiago is making sure they remember it. Speaking of, he's been a lot quieter these days. It's Scalpers doing. He's been talking with some of his men, and, to my surprise, some of them like him. Santiago's afraid they're going to switch the Insurgency proper, and leave him behind. At least, that's what Scalpers new friends are saying about him. Scalper asked if they could sleep up here with him and me. I gave him the go ahead, as long as he kept them in line. I am so glad I got Scalper. He's loyal, knows how to follow orders, doesn't ask questions. He doesn't complain. He doesn't ask for more and more money. He's a fucking professional. Unlike all of them. We have 10 gallons of S-energy. We shall be starting the first batch soon. 5-19-74: Letters in Admin's Office, Document Collection A3D Bruckheimer, I apologize in advance for the tardiness of this letter. I have been feeling under the weather recently, and have been unable to attend to business as well as I wanted to. The first rifles you have sent me have had a very positive impact on your reputation among high command. It destroyed a watermelon from four miles away. Simple, but effective, especially considering prior events (I fear that many simply do not understand the true events of Mexico, as you so elucidated to me). I expect they shall make a tidy profit. Big enough that they won't look too closely. It will, surely, keep the Major General Flint off our backs for awhile longer. He truly has been a thorn in my side since you showed me his true feelings. I know he is suspicious, much more than the others in High Command. He has always been one of the softer ones, unwilling to go above the call of duty for our cause. Unlike you, Sergeant, and unlike his father. That was a man who understood the greater good. I'll be sending five bodies over the course of the next five months. I hope that you will ensure that each and every one is put to good and efficient use. Yours truly, Jackson P.S. The Springfield you sent me has worked splendidly. Reminds me of my grandfather, who fought in the Civil War with one of these. The 33rd Ohio infantry regiment. A more civilized time indeed! Can you make me anymore of these older models? 8-15-74: Dr. Jin's Research Notes, Page 79 I don't sleep much. Nor do I write. When left alone with my thoughts, I freeze up, and I see the head and Scalper smiling. It's gotten better. But not much. I haven't let anyone else see me dealing with them. I have to push through it. The worst part is that I am getting more from these than I ever got from the old bodies, the ones who probably died less painfully than whatever they're doing. I know it was Scalper. He occasionally looks at me, and he gives me these knowing eyes, as if he knows that I know. He had to have known I would see it. It was almost like he was threatening me. If it was, it certainly worked. Scalper has developed a coterie of minions that seem to answer to him. A couple of the Sergeant's men, and four or five of Santiago's men. They look to him for guidance, more than I ever saw them do from their Captain. Even when he threatened to court martial them, they just looked at him, blankly. I don't know if they respect Scalper more, or simply fear him more. The only thing Santiago could do was walk away. The Sergeant demands that I do more to create bigger, better weapons. Find ways of making the enchanter go even farther. I don't know if I can, and I certainly don't want to, for I know that if this place is successful, it will create a thousand other monstrosities. It will not stop here. Even if the Insurgency shuts it down, the things that happened here can not go unpunished, not by the universe or God. It will spread, our weapons reaching all over the world, until someone breaks it down and analyzes it and realizes how to make it, and then we shall see a new type of warfare that would make all prior wars seem like simple child's play. Did Maxim ever feel this way, about the monstrosity he created? 10-18-1974: Sgt. Bruckheimer's Diary, Page 44 Jin is still sending letters out. It was alright when it was just to the General, but his constant attempts at contacting High Command have been nothing short of annoying. I have simply stopped sending them. They all end up in my office. And they piss me off. 'A crime against man', 'immoral use of human lives', 'violating his sacred oath both to the Insurgency and to mankind', and, worst of all, 'unprofessional and not fit for command.' Would someone as 'unfit' as he says I am, be able to get this place up and running? Would he be able to turn some factory in the middle of nowhere into a profitable business? One that is funding dozens of operations around the world, for the good of man? The world is worth a couple dead Foundies. The nerve. The fucking nerve. Along with Santiago. He's been requesting - he no longer demands, not with Scalper in the room, no he doesn't - that he be allowed to recruit more men. I had three shot the other day for trying to desert. He stood there and watched as Scalper tested some of our products on them, in front of the others. It took them a couple hours to die, as the tumors consumed them. Scalper, apparently, made them all watch. Just to make sure. I couldn't use their bodies, unfortunately. But no matter. Anyway, I told Santiago no. Not worth the money, and I refuse to let him bring anymore of his fools into this mess. He said nothing. He simply walked out, his jaw tight and with hateful eyes. Everything just feels right. 11-4-74: Letters in Admin's Office, Document Collection A3D Sgt. Bruckheimer, I regret to inform you that your superior officer, General Benjamin Jackson, has died under unfortunate circumstances that we believe may be a Foundation plot to destroy high command. As I understand it, you and General Jackson were close, especially in the last couple months. He spoke very highly of you, and your accomplishments at your facility. He changed many minds, and convinced us of your talent and dedication to our cause. As cruel as it is, however, I did not send this letter purely out of a moral obligation to tell you of a close friend's passing - although that was part of it - but also, out of a need to further our investigation. First, I must provide you some context, for the circumstances are most peculiar. On the morning of the September 29th, General Jackson's adjunct discovered him at his desk. He was clutching an old Springfield - the one, I believe, that you sent to him - and covered in cancerous growths. Cause of death was multiple organ failure due to said growths. He had no other wounds. Nothing was missing from his desk. He had been complaining of feeling ill many times over the course of the past six months, but not to the extent here. We believed he may have concealed that from us, although for what reason, we cannot say. If you have any information that may be important to the case - possible enemies, unusual activity/happenings, etc. - please send it directly to High Command. I shall expect a response by the end of the month regardless, as I will be forwarding it to your new commanding officer, General Flint, when he arrives. As he was deeply interested in the operation of your facility, and the fact the two of you have worked close together in the past, we believe him to be the best successor to the late General. He shall ensure that the process is as painless as possible. My deepest condolences and well wishes, The Administrator of the Foundation4 11-5-74: Letters in Admin's Office, Document Collection A3D Bruckheimer The little adjunct burned the letters. When I cornered him, he said it was to protect the Insurgency. But I'll find out soon enough. One way, or another. Happy Thanksgiving. Flint 11-5-74: Sgt. Bruckheimer's Diary, Page 45 He's going to find out. He's going to find out what I did. He's going to ask where the Foundies went. I'm fucked. 12-4-74: Dr. Jin's Research Notes, Page 84 I knew that something was wrong when I got the first letter from General Flint. He asked me about our weapons. Asked if there were any side effects. He said that he had been getting some concerning reports regarding them, and wanted to check with me. I had no idea what he was talking about. We had no reported side effects when testing. I didn't respond at first, for fear of the Sergeant reading it. But I decided that simply denying that it had happened wouldn't be enough, and, sure enough, it wasn't. But the Sergeant rarely leaves his room these days as is, so perhaps he hadn't read it at all. And Scalper doesn't read the mail, as far as I can tell. I received a response today. I read it, and the accompanying pictures. It was sealed, so I knew he hadn't seen them. Prolonged exposure did things. Sometimes they did nothing. Sometimes they could cause your body to rot from the inside. Sometimes they could backfire, exploding in their hand. Sometimes, it kept victims alive, and turned them into something worse, more monstrous. A whole list of things he had found. He then asked, simply, if I had known, or, if the Sergeant had known. I have not responded yet, for I am considering my options. I can do a couple of things. I can either confess, or I can run. Saying nothing is no longer an option, either for my soul or for my life. If I confess, then all the men responsible here will pay for what they've done. It may clear all suspicion of me, and may protect me from punishment if I pin it all on the Sergeant. But I can't do that. I simply can't. All that pain and suffering, both here and out in that world, is my fault, just as much as it is the Sergeants and Scalpers. I would be running from what I have done. I will be letting other people clean up my mess, something I can not, in good conscious, do. I will live with that guilt for the rest of my life, as I should, but I have no hope of recompense if I cannot deal with it myself. And that's why I cannot run. At least, not without dealing with those two. Maybe, if I do, I can have some manner of peace, for what I have contributed to this hell. But in order to do that, I would need allies. And I doubt that he will jeopardize his money for morals. I don't know what to do. I wonder if he's getting more bodies. It's been a bit since I've had one. That scares me. 12-10-74: Sgt. Bruckheimer's Diary, Page 46 No body. No body. Almost out of juice. Nothing from Flint. Nothing. I'm jumping at every letter I get. I'm terrified. I've kept them off my back. Gave them some bullshit about not knowing anything. Are they in on it? Can't be sure. Trust my gut. Don't trust them. Don't. Don't. No more body. Can't get more. I need money. I need to get out of dodge. But I need more extract. I need more FUCKING extract. No bodies = no extract. FUCKED FUCKED FUCKED Need more. I need it or I'll die. 12-20-74: Dr. Jin's Research Notes, Page 85 I have made my decision. I cannot say that it was entirely my own. Bruckheimer has simply gone too far. Five days ago, Santiago came in, saying that he had lost one of his men. Now, before, we had set up a man hunt for this. The deserters were chased for at least a week before we got to them. But Bruckheimer, who, as far as I can tell, made his first appearance before us, as Santiago was making much noise downstairs. He looked ill, and he was constantly looking around, and staring. Scalper and the rest were near him, looking at Santiago. I watched this from my Research room, and I listened. Bruckheimer said it was nothing to worry about. That confused Santiago, who said he had to get out there and find him, to make an example of him. It would kill discipline in his company. Bruckheimer waved him off — literally. He then said that if he wanted to, that was his business, but that he wasn't going to waste his manpower on finding someone of no consequence. Santiago, infuriated, left. He has still not come back, although I believe he will soon. Now, only a couple hours ago, Scalper dropped off a new body. I thought nothing of it, and I opened it up. Inside, I saw another body, except this time, in a uniform I recognized. It was Santiago's man. I closed it back up, and collapsed in my chair, and I stared at my hands. They are covered in much blood, I know, and I know that nothing I do can clean out the iron smell and the red stuck underneath my fingernails. When I joined the Insurgency that day, they had told me that when fighting evil, one must be willing to dirty one's hands. To not do so is in an act of evil in of itself. And now I sit here having committed a great evil, I know what they meant, now. One must be willing to dirty one's hands to rid the world of evil. I will eliminate them. And I suspect that once Santiago discovers what has happened to one of his men, I suspect that he will be in agreement. But for now I must simply wait. 1-4-75: Dr. Jin's Research Notes, Page 86 Santiago arrived on the 1st. In that time, I have been trying my best to talk to him, without Bruckheimer's knowledge. It was only when walking past him in the manufacturing room, near the workers, as he huffed and puffed about some new, horrible thing that Bruckheimer had done this time, that I was able to slip him a piece of paper, telling him to meet me in the woods at night. When one of the guards - one of the few non-Scalper/Bruckheimer men here, an unknown quantity in this new struggle - asked where I was going, I told him that I was going for a walk. I hoped that it satisfied his curiosity. When he arrived at the specified time, I was relieved. He asked what it was about, that he thought that men like me simply had no time for men like he. I apologized for the inconvenience, and began to explain myself. I started at the beginning. I explained everything. He had been denied for so long, that I felt that, if I had any hope of convincing him of my course, I would need to show him that I had full confidence in him. I have no idea if it worked. But it was the only way. I have no other allies. I can trust neither High Command/General Flint, nor Scalper, who seems to only be driven by bloodlust. He did not react as I told him. He nodded, occasionally, and his jaws clenched when I went into the gruesome details. He grasped the concept of S-energy fast, only occasionally asking questions. After I explained everything up to that point, I then told him the fate of his man. He swore, but his eyes scared me more than his words. Even in the dark, the moon showed me his eyes, and they were piercing with hate and revulsion. He said nothing else, but he stared off into the distance. I continued, and he nodded, as if assuring me he was still listening, but he continued to stare off into the distance with hate. I then begged for his help. That the only way we were going to get out of this, was if we got out of here. There was no telling what Bruckheimer would do when cornered. Desperate men do desperate, horrible things, and it would only be a matter of time before something bad happened. Santiago looked back to me, and he sized me up. He then cracked a grin. "Honestly," he told me, grinning at me just a little too widely, "you wouldn't have needed to tell me about my man dying to get me to kill that son of a bitch. Now, though, I'm going to make him fucking scream. He laughed. I laughed alongside him, and through it, he said we must meet from now, two nights from now, to discuss future plans. I can only place my faith in him. 1-10-75: Dr. Jin's Research Notes, Page 88 It begins tomorrow. Santiago organized everything. His men are ready to strike tomorrow. I just need to keep my head down. One of Scalper's boys have turned traitor. He was one of the last ones to join, and it seems that he was kept in the dark about what they had done to one of his old comrades in the Company. He says that Bruckheimer is attempting to flee the country with the proceeds from one last batch of rifles, as he believes that nothing can be done to clear his name from (in his own words) 'high command sabotage'. I question how much of this was done out of genuine moral outrage, or simple self preservation. Regardless, he is our way of getting Bruckheimer and Scalper to let their guards down. He has a cousin in the workers barracks who trusts him. He will convince them to come out, as he will say that the workers are on strike. When they run out of the admins office, Santiago's men shall strike. I have tried to convince him to only kill Scalper and Bruckheimer, but I fear that he is out for blood. Perhaps its what they all deserve. But those two more than anyone. And I know how to punish those two, to give them a little taste of their own medicine. When its all over, he will have no one to blame but himself. I am scared at how fast I have turned bloodthirsty. I try not to think about it, and hope for the future. In my free time, I have been trying, to the best of my knowledge, to test what the side effects of the products here are caused by. I did so on myself. I requested one - an unloaded one, of course - and have held it consistently for many days now. For five days, I have felt horrible. I have vomited four times. There was blood in there. Not much, but a bit. I have been constantly checking and re-checking the gun. In this time, I have discovered something: that the S-energy in the gun is decreasing. Every day I have broken a chunk off this gun with a knife or a tool and placed it in the apparatus, breaking it down back to its component parts. Even when taking into account such things as the loss of it to inefficiency, it is unmistakable that it is going somewhere. I then cut my hand, and let the blood drip into a vial. Five milliliters. It hurt, but I had to make sure. I then placed it into the apparatus. When I got it back, I saw how much S-energy had been produced. It was about seven milliliters. That shouldn't be possible, unless I have an excess of S-energy on my body, and in my blood stream. It's poison. These things are poisoned, by him. S-energy isn't made equal. I see that now. When we did these things, we created a horrible, corrosive emotional discharge, one that was born in pain, and could thus only spread pain to everything. It's spreading to us, hurting us, twisting us, just like he did to their sources, those people he tortured for God knows how long. I am sorry. I was responsible for this. I turned your bodies into that, and infused you into these machines of war. I hope that I can make things right. Addendum-7475.2 — Incident Log On 2/13/1975, during the initial attempts at analyzing SCP-7475-B, personnel accidentally turned it on. SCP-7475-B began to expel smoke and heat up for thirty minutes before turning off, and opening up the output port for SCP-7475-A instances to be placed. Placed in there were two decomposing human cadavers. They received significant physical damage from being crushed (presumably by SCP-7475-B) and mutilated (pre-mortem). Both were wearing GoI-001 related uniforms. One of them, lacking four fingers, a tongue and left foot, was wearing the stripes of a Sergeant; the other had its scalped removed and forcefully placed into its mouth. Footnotes 1. In lettered documents produced here, italics representatives writing made after the initial letter was received. 2. These have been censored on orders of the Ethics Committee with permission from the O5 Council; for details, see 'O5 Council Meeting Notes, January-June, 1976' for more information. 3. This design document has yet to be discovered. 4. GoI-001 claims to represent a successor to the Foundation following its initial split in the early 20th century. As such, it uses many trappings of Foundation terminology, although, as time has gone on, it developed a distinct identity. |
SCP-7476 | safe | SCP-7476's current container Item #: SCP-7476 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7476 is contained within a standard safe-class SCP item locker. The cap of SCP-7476 must not be removed, and if it is removed, personnel must not look inside. If the inside of SCP-7476's container is viewed, it is recommended that on-site personnel check all of their opaque containers by emptying them without looking inside. If SCP-7476 is discovered through this method, it is to be returned to its locker, and its previous container may be disposed of. Description: SCP-7476 is an unobservable phenomenon that can affect one container at a time, causing the container to have an infinite supply of its contents until the inside is observed in any way. Upon observation of the container's interior, all of its contents will disappear, completely emptying the container. At the same time, SCP-7476's effects will transfer to a different container. No evidence of SCP-7476's presence remains with a container after SCP-7476 leaves it. Currently, SCP-7476 is affecting a green 750 mL bottle of women's shampoo, but it has affected several other containers prior (see list below). Due to SCP-7476's unobservable nature, it can only affect opaque containers. The only way to confirm SCP-7476's presence within a container (without transferring SCP-7476 to another container) is to begin emptying it; if more contents than could realistically fit inside the container are observed, it can be deduced that SCP-7476 is present. The largest container SCP-7476 has affected had a volume of 7 liters, and the smallest container had a volume of 0.5 mL. It is unknown if SCP-7476 can affect containers of volumes outside of these bounds, but it is possible that it has, just without notice. As it is difficult to determine SCP-7476's new container after a transfer has occurred, it is recommended to all Foundation staff that important substances/items be contained in clear containers if possible, so that SCP-7476 may not affect (and subsequently deplete) those substances/items in the case that it affects those containers. The following methods of observing SCP-7476 are confirmed to be ineffective, and will initiate SCP-7476's transfer: Viewing the container's inside with the naked eye or mirrors Weighing the container to determine the contents by their weight Candling the container to view the silhouette of the contents Feeling the contents through the lid without looking inside Photographing or videoing the inside Utilizing soundwaves, light rays, and x-rays to image the contents (including CT scans and MRIs) Shaking the container over and over (typical rattling made by handling the container does not initiate SCP-7476's transfer) Melting, dissolving, or otherwise breaking open the container Any and all variants of the above actions, including those performed by animals or pre-programmed machines When comparing the weights of a container affected by SCP-7476 and an identical container of the same product, SCP-7476's container will feel around the same weight as the unaffected container (but when measured with any type of weighing device, SCP-7476 will empty its container and transfer its effects to a different container). SCP-7476 was initially discovered during a routine restocking of the bathroom soap dispensers within the site. The janitor in charge of the restocking noted that he had not restocked one of the dispensers in months. The janitor claimed that he never checked the inside of the soap dispenser because "peeking would ruin it". (It is unlikely that this feeling is a result of SCP-7476 and is rather a natural human inclination). Upon observation of the inside, the dispenser was completely empty, despite producing a normal quantity of soap (with no evidence of it being close to empty) prior. After several more instances, SCP-7476's presence was confirmed. After its initial discovery, SCP-7476 has only affected containers within this site. Tests to determine its origin have been indefinitely postponed due to a lack of urgency. Addendum 7476-1: + Show list of confirmed instances of SCP-7476 - Close list The following is a list of confirmed instances of SCP-7476 followed by the number occurrences (left blank for singular instances). The majority of instances transferred SCP-7476 upon discovery, and other instances were followed by testing to determine what forms of observation cause SCP-7476 to change containers (see Addendum 7476-1). Additionally, it is highly likely that SCP-7476 has affected everyday containers without notice. It can be assumed that SCP-7476 has affected many containers prior to its initial discovery. Water bottle (x12) Bathroom soap dispenser (x7) Bathroom hand sanitizer dispenser (x3) Bottle of hand sanitizer (x3) Bottle of women's shampoo (x2) Daily vitamin supplement bottle (x2) Bottle of nasal spray (x2) Package of individually sealed snack cakes (x2) Package of individually sealed salads Bottle of iodine solution Bottle of hydrogen peroxide Jar of human urine 1 L bottle of soda Vial of human blood Urn containing the ashes of Dr. Aartsma's mother Pants pocket Pen ink chamber Car windshield wiper fluid reservoir Dr. Aartsma's bladder Dr. Aartsma's salivary glands Addendum 7476-2: + Show experiment logs - Close experiment logs Note: Tests to observe SCP-7476 have been omitted due to their repeated results. Test purpose Procedure Result and Conclusions To determine SCP-7476's range of transfer. A discovered instance of SCP-7476 affecting a bottle of soap was taken to a desolate area. No containers were present in a 5 mile radius. SCP-7476 was then opened and the inside was observed by Dr. Aartsma (the researcher assigned to SCP-7476). SCP-7476 transferred to the ink chamber of a pen in Dr. Aartsma's pocket. To determine SCP-7476's range of transfer. Immediately after the previous test, Dr. Aartsma observed the ink chamber of his pen. SCP-7476 transferred to Dr. Aartsma's pant pocket which contained specks of gravel. To determine SCP-7476's range of transfer. Immediately after the previous test, Dr. Aartsma observed the inside of his pocket. SCP-7476 transferred to the windshield wiper fluid of the car Dr. Aartsma drove to the deserted area, which was two miles away. It can be concluded that SCP-7476 prioritizes transfer to close-by containers, explaining its continued presence at Site-XX. To determine the source of SCP-7476's "infinite supply". A discovered instance of SCP-7476 affecting a bottle of hand sanitizer was brought to the same desolate area as the previous tests. Bottles of the same brand of hand sanitizer were placed on the ground at mile intervals for a total of five miles. SCP-7476's bottle was opened and tipped upside-down so that the hand sanitizer would flow out without the inside of the bottle being observed. Hand sanitizer was allowed to flow out for 30 minutes before the bottle was closed. All bottles of hand sanitizer provided for the test remained completely full. It is possible that SCP-7476 obtains its "infinite supply" from a far-away location. To deliberately transfer SCP-7476 to a jar of high-nutrient food bars, taking advantage of its properties to produce food supplies. A discovered instance of SCP-7476 affecting a bathroom soap dispenser was taken to the same desolate area as the previous tests. An opaque jar of high-nutrient food bars was placed next to SCP-7476's soap dispenser, the inside of which was then observed by Dr. Aartsma. SCP-7476 transferred to Dr. Aartsma's bladder, causing him severe pain and constant urination until a CT scan of his bladder area was taken, transferring SCP-7476 to a nearby jar of Dr. Aartsma's urine (taken as a sample prior to the CT scan). To deliberately transfer SCP-7476 to a jar of high-nutrient food bars, taking advantage of its properties to produce food supplies. The same procedure as the previous test was performed, except a remote control robot equipped with live video cameras was used to observe SCP-7476. SCP-7476 transferred to Dr. Aartsma's (who was positioned 5 miles away) salivary glands, causing him to salivate uncontrollably until he observed the inside of his mouth with a mirror (transferring SCP-7476 to a water bottle). It is possible that SCP-7476 prefers to transfer to things that have a high likelihood of being noticed by humans. To transfer SCP-7476 from Dr. Aartsma's favorite water bottle. Dr. Aartsma haphazardly viewed the inside of his water bottle (potentially out of exasperation with SCP-7476's behavior). SCP-7476's new container could not be found. After two weeks, Dr. Aartsma accidentally discovered that SCP-7476 had transferred to an urn of his mother's ashes kept in his office. After observation, SCP-7476 transferred to a bottle of women's shampoo. It is possible that SCP-7476 has a sort of deliberate nature when transferring to another container. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7476" by twotruegucks, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7476. 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: image.png Author: twotruegucks License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-7476 SCP Foundation Wiki |
SCP-7477 | keter | by stormbreath Item #: SCP-7477 Special Containment Procedures: All known vectors for SCP-7477 have been destroyed. The necessity of terminating the last known carrier of SCP-7477 is currently being debated. Description: SCP-7477 is a viral cognitohazard incubating in organisms attempting to determine a solution to a complicated problem or project (as defined by the affected individual). SCP-7477 is capable of infecting organisms who are not working on such a problem, in which case it will latch onto an applicable problem when the organism begins working on it. SCP-7477 has displayed extreme versatility in hosts, able to affect both human and non-human organisms. Based upon what information can be gathered and testimony from the sole surviving carrier of SCP-7477, when a viable solution to the associated problem is reached by an infected carrier, SCP-7477 detonates. At this time, the head of the affected organism will spontaneously explode. The force of the explosion exponentially scales with the size of the affected organism's head; a human head explodes with force roughly equal to a grenade, whereas an affected blue whale's head exploded with force equivalent to 10 kT of TNT. Individuals who observe the process of SCP-7477 detonating, interact with the physical remains of a carrier (especially the head) or otherwise interact in a first-hand capacity with the SCP-7477 explosion or its effects become infected with SCP-7477. If information regarding SCP-7477 is significantly distorted, the cognitohazardous properties fade. For example, the ashes of victim's heads do not carry the effect. LEVEL 5 CLEARANCE REQUIRED KNOWN ACTIVE SCP-7477 CARRIERS The final carrier of SCP-7477 is the Gnostic Monad. It was infected as a result of its omniscience upon the initial manifestation of SCP-7477, which it has identified as a malicious plot of the Demiurge and a corruption of the emanations. It has relayed to the Foundation the details surrounding its infection and as a result has been designated as SCP-7477-∞. While SCP-7477-∞ is theoretically capable of neutralizing SCP-7477 through its omnipotence, its affected project is the best way to neutralize SCP-7477. Therefore, SCP-7477-∞ is incapable of determining a method of neutralizing SCP-7477. SCP-7477-∞ has recognized that it is both temporally transcendent and omnipotent. SCP-7477-∞ has also recognized that — being noncorporeal and unassociated with the physical universe — SCP-7477-∞ does not have a head which could explode. Despite these factors, SCP-7477-∞ claims that it remains unwilling to neutralize the anomaly. SCP-7477-∞ apologizes for the inconvenience. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7477" by stormbreath, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7477. 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-7478 | safe | by Quicksilvers The following cache of documents was discovered in an empty basement office within Foundation Site-22. Presented in rough chronological order as is assumed via contextual evidence. Analysis is currently ongoing. 1/6 told me it's like locking yourself in a room on accident when you were a child. Exact same feeling. Pitch black but somehow you're able to see the walls in the darkness, and all of it is blue, and sometimes you feel like you're bei[ILLEGIBLE] A torn piece of scrap paper. 2/6 Basement Hallway B9 Item №: SCP-7478 Containment Protocol: SCP-7478 is to be discussed with any and all individuals capable of cognition in order to propagate its own containment. Engagement with this file is mandatory to all Foundation staff as this constitutes as a form of passive feeding. Active feeding is to occur as previous; sporadically and undisturbed. Description: SCP-7478 is a form of targeted physiosemantic dissociation from baseline reality that is currently conceptually fused to Basement Hallway B9 within Site-22. SCP-7478 is activated by an individual's physical presence within Basement Hallway B9 and ceases when said individual is no longer present within the location. The effects of being present within SCP-7478 differs with each activation and individual undergoing exposure, though various anomalous factors stay consistent, including but not limited to spaciotemporal distortions, mental fog, memory intrusion, potential induced retrocausality, and potential induced recursion.1 Discovery: SCP-7478 was discovered at an unknown date, theorized to have been between early June 2006 and the present day. Previous to this increment, various Foundation staff had been consistently viewed within security camera footage taken from Basement Hallway B9. These sightings do not correspond to the presence of the employees as seen within, as all staff have strong alibies supporting their lack of actual presence within Site-22's basement levels, and possibly their, at the time, absence from the Site as a whole. It is currently unknown how SCP-7478 has potentially escaped Foundation identification for so long, though theories point to its anomalous effects as the root of this cause. 1. Properties currently under review by departments specializing in the narrative stack. 1 Standard Foundation Anomaly Classification document. 3/6 Addendum: Testing Logs2 Date: 27/7/2008 Exposed Person(s): D-9973 Length of Exposure: 22 seconds Command: Traverse the length of Basement Hallway B9 and exit at the opposing door. Summary: D-997 enters the affected area from the furthermost doorway. Subject hesitates before walking down the length of the hallway. Subject steps on a tile and the tile caves, revealing a hollow space under a portion of the floor. Breaking more of these tiles shows that there is a large well-like opening burrowing into the ground. D-997 carefully steps around the edge of the opening to avoid falling in. D-997 continues walking, reporting the smell of water around the 2 minute mark.4 D-997 reports an uneasy feeling, describing it as encroaching tension. D-997 falls into the well. D-997 crawls out of the well. D-997 sprints towards the opposite end of Basement Hallway B9 and reaches the exit. 2. For full transcripts (excluding exemplary materials within this file), please contact RAISA. 3. Liam Keene, 32, previously a contract worker for a construction company. 4. This incongruency remains and is quantifiable despite its contradictive nature. Standard Foundation Anomaly Test/Trial document. 4/6 It happened again today and I'm not really sure how I should handle it. Same as last time, which means it's something I should've at least been prepared for, but I don't think this is something that you really can brace yourself over. I walked past his desk and he looked at me and smiled. He said, "Hey Masie!" and he started moving to get up out of his seat to chat. I tried to look busy but for some reason, I couldn't stop myself from smiling - it slipped out on its own. I said I had a lot of paperwork to do, paperwork and files and paperwork. I made up something on the fly when he asked what they were for. I tried excusing myself, and he snickered. He made a joke about me that I don't want to write down about here. I chuckle and walk away, but on the inside, I felt something burning. Still can't tell if it's shame or desperation - hell, maybe even heartbreak. Maybe it's all three. After that, it happened same as last time. The world melted and peeled around me as I felt the ceiling tile drip cool and dry on my forehead, the paint and brick and concrete of the walls slipping off like loose skin. I don't know why, but I had the urge to reach out and push my hand into it. It was soft and pliable, meaning that if I pushed hard enough, I'd be able to go through. So I did. I placed my hand against the melt, and it was warm and soft, again, loose fat and skin. And I pushed, and pushed, and pushed, until I couldn't see anything. It just kept going. Eventually, I found open air. I was in a bedroom - it was messy and unkept. Red blankets and a red bedsheet strung up against the window as a makeshift curtain. There was someone else in the room with me. He looked like Dennis. And then the world snapped back into place. Destruction in reverse. Bricks clicking into the walls, doorways realigning themselves and snapping into their proper hinges, the paint layering itself back in strips and scattered-torn slips. Tiles vibrating underfoot as they emerged through the carpet, shuffling back into form. And then it was all back, and I was facing the exit door for the hall. I'm going to HR tomorrow. I can't do this anymore. Journal entry, forcefully torn from source.2 5/6 SCP-7478 emerges from the tunnel. It is holding a box. SCP-7478: This is what you want. This is what you've always wanted. Elane staggers back, shaking her head. Her eyes are wide and her gaze is fixed on SCP-7478. Elane: NO! NO, YOU'RE IN MY HEAD, YOU'RE IN MY HEAD! SCP-7478 holds the box out towards Elane. SCP-7478: It is not something you can deny. As clear as the sun. As powerful as the burning light of billions of quasars. SCP-7478 opens the box. Elane screams and covers her face with her arms. Elane: NO! NO, STAY AWAY! STAY AWAY FROM ME! SCP-7478: They fill the night sky. Something is inside the box. That something moves. SCP-7478: They fill it with nothing but sunburn. The something slithers out of the box. It leaves behind a faint trail of a clear, thin, almost greasy liquid. It falls to the floor with a wet splat before it twitches towards Elane. Elane backs into a wall behind her, slowly sliding to the ground with her arms still covering her face. Muffled weeping is heard. SCP-7478 chuckles, brushing its hair away from its eyes. SCP-7478: You're already here. You've always been here. This is just another step down the spire. The something touches Elane's leg. Wet, stringy filaments clinging to the fabric of her clothes. She screams again, and it echoes throughout the tunnel. SCP-7478: It is alright. You will be repurposed soon. SCP-7478: Melted down. Used for scrap and spare parts. Purified. SCP-7478 chuckles again. It looms forwards, over Elane. Crouching to the ground and leaning on one knee, it places the empty box on the ground beside itself. SCP-7478 reaches out and gently strokes Elane's hair. SCP-7478: I know you are afraid. I am sorry that you believe that this is something you should fear. Elane is still quietly sobbing into her arms. Her voice is choked with tears. Elane: I- I don't- wh- why? Wh-why is this ha-appening to me? SCP-7478 gently reaches out and pulls her arms away from her face. It reaches towards her chin and angles it upwards so they are face-to-face. They hold eye contact, and Elane's expression betrays her panic, so rigid that her body is as heavy as stone. SCP-7478: Because you deserve it, Elane. You deserve to feel free. The something lunges at Elane, landing on her chest before sinking through her clothing. She shrieks, clawing at it and attempting to gain purchase, but it slips through her fingers and her skin. Elane attempts to stand up and run, still pulling at her chest as she staggers into the darkness down a branching pathway of the tunnel. SCP-7478 watches on as she flees. It is smiling. Partial written transcript. Original video file missing.3 6/6 INTERVIEWER: Staff Director L. Palacios INTERVIEWEE: Jr. Rs. F. Ergot No. DATE: 11 April 2022 PALACIOS: Thank you for coming in - I understand that it has been a stressful time for you and I appreciate you taking the time to reach out. No, I can't be back here again. ERGOT: Yeah. You don't understand, it was over, I made sure it was over months ago. PALACIOS: Well, where would you like to start? No - he doesn't get a chance to weep after all the things he said to me. Stop helping him. ERGOT: I haven't been sleeping again. Stop. You know what you did. We both know. PALACIOS: Is it because of the nightmares? I thought those calmed down for a bit. I haven't forgotten any of it. I remember it all. ERGOT: No, not those. Those haven't really stopped yet, by the way. Am I in them? Stop doing that. PALACIOS: I'm sorry to hear - we could possibly up your zaleplon prescription if you bel- "Such a good, obedient little boy." You think it's all a joke? You think it did nothing? ERGOT: It's not the nightmares. Wait. PALACIOS: … PALACIOS: Oh, you mean that's not what's keeping you awake? ERGOT: No, not this time around. PALACIOS: May you elaborate? ERGOT: … Don't. ERGOT: … Don't say it. ERGOT: …I just… ERGOT: … ERGOT: I think I keep seeing myself where I shouldn't be. STOP PALACIOS: Oh? How so? ERGOT: It's… STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP ERGOT: … PLEASE STOP PLEASE STOP STOP FUCKING TALKING STOP TALKING I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE ERGOT: Sometimes when I have to go downstairs into the older archives, I see someone that has my own face, but it's different. STOP FUCKING TALKING YOU'RE GETTING TOO CLOSE TO THE SURFACE STOP FUCKING TALKING PALACIOS: Is the appearance consistent? Can you describe him for me? DON'T ASK HIM STOP PRYING STOP FUCKING TALKING ABOUT IT PLEASE STOP WHAT IF HE SEES WHAT IF HE SEES AND WHAT IF HE KNOWS ERGOT: Yes, actually. His hair is dirty blond and longer than mine. It's unkept and wavy. SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP STOP FUCKING TALKING PLEASE ERGOT: He also just… … ERGOT: Whenever he sees me, he smiles. NO ERGOT: And it's exactly the same. SCP-7478-2: STOP Foundation standard interview transcription. The following file is what is currently occupying the SCP-7478 slot within the Foundation's database. OPEN FILE CLOSE FILE Item №: SCP-7478 Containment Protocol: Due to its near-negligible effect on staff duties, SCP-7478 is to be ignored by all Foundation workers. Tissues are to be provided to all staff working within Floor 2 to Basement Floor 4. Description: SCP-7478 is a sporadic, minor auditory cognitohazard located within the lower levels of Site-22 (specifically, Floors 2 to B4). SCP-7478 is not tethered to a single point or area within this threshold and manifests at an inconsistent rate. The human ear registers SCP-7478 as a high-frequency whining sound, not dissimilar to tinnitus. Side effects of exposure to SCP-7478 have been recorded as: the scent of mildew and/or petrichor tears (lacking reason) minor bouts of exhaustion dissociation and recursion of long term memory1 At the cessation of SCP-7478, all side effects subside within five to ten minutes. Discovery: SCP-7478 was discovered 27 September 2020 when Foundation custodian Mikaela Webber reported the sound to Human Resources. The anomaly was then swiftly filed before being summarily ignored. Footnotes 1. Including the formation of false memories regarding interpersonal non-familial relationships. Please contact your Site Director in conjunction with RAISA for any developments or alterations. Thank you. And truly, from the bottom of my heart. Thank you, too. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7478" by Quicksilvers, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7478. 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: hallway.jpg Author: Quicksilvers License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Link Footnotes 1. Text illegible despite proper formatting. 2. Handwriting is a rough match with Foundation statistician Masie Craw, who was employed at Site-17 at the time this cache was discovered. "Dennis" has not been identified. 3. "Elane" has not been identified. |
SCP-7479 | esoteric-class | Item#: 7479 Level1 Containment Class: efla Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo When not in use, these objects should be placed within personal storage lockers — or personal quarters — to avoid damage or loss. If an instance of SCP-7479 is misplaced, please contact your direct supervisor in order to either recover or replace the instance. Any leftover prototype anomalies (dubbed SCP-7479-P) are be disposed of through typical Acroamatic Abatement processes. Any still usable parts are to be returned to the Department of Geology for later use in the construction of new instances. Description: Pending, please contact Director H. Gibbs.Geology Department Lead, Geophysicist. for further information. Video Transcript From the Office of Director Gibbs Dir. Gibbs' raises her head from her computer at the sound of a knock on her office door. Dir. Gibbs: Come in. Dr. D. Draws. Junior geological researcher, shadowing under Dir. Gibbs, draconic humanoid believed to be of Droganian-adjacent descent. enters the office, fi balances a cardboard box and a cane in fir arms. Dr. Draws: Gibbs! Ah — hi, I found those blueprints you were looking for. Flipstrike, right? [Fi pauses] Can I put this on the desk? Dir. Gibbs perks up. Dir. Gibbs: Yes! And yes, thank you. She shifts a few papers and rock samples to the side in order to make room. Dr. Draws puts the box up on the desk with a grunt. Fi takes a step back, leans on fir cane, then tilts fir head. Dr. Draws: Can I ask what it's all for? I peeped at it a tiiiiny bit when sorting through the filing cabinets, but nothing beyond that. It looked like a compass? Dir. Gibbs stands up and begins to root through the contents of the box, she eventually pulls out a few papers. Dir. Gibbs: It is, yeah. An old project concept that we let collect dust a while back. The idea came around the same time as Pyroclasm, because we found that trying to do research within the dragon's caverns was a nightmare due to magnetic interference. Dr. Draws: The iron hearts, yeah? Dir. Gibbs: Yes! It rendered our compasses a bit useless from a directional standpoint. I suppose that the boys down there found some sort of rudimentary work-around, cause this project fell by the wayside. Dr. Draws nods. Fi's since pulled up a chair from the side of the room and sat down, drumming a claw against fir cane. Dr. Draws: What's got you thinking about it again? Did something happen? Dir. Gibbs: Nothing specific, but we've been finding more and more geological anomalies as our own technology advances and we expand our field — I've realized that putting off Flipstrike may come to a detriment to us, if we don't work out some of the occupation kinks that come with trying to do fieldwork in… non-field friendly environments, if you catch my drift. Dr. Draws nods. Dr. Draws: I'm picking up what you're putting down. Flipstrike is going to be something that can help us out in like, [Fi makes a circular motion with fir hand] anomalous locations? Weird dimensional stuff, 'n all that? Dir. Gibbs: Indeed, and creating our own compass is a great place to start. Dr. Draws: Strike and dip! Shit, yeah — that would be a bit of a hassle. If things are topsy-turvy or just plain weird, trying to accurately figure out the orientation of things would be a nightmare — okay, okay yeah. So what we need is, what? To fuck around and find out with some tech? Dir. Gibbs: [She chuckles] Trial and error, I believe is the more professional way of putting it. Dr. Draws gains a sheepish look. Dr. Draws: Whoopsie daisy— sorry. Dir. Gibbs: You're alright, dear. I believe our biggest issue will be balancing capability with cost. Whatever prototype we draft up needs to be replicatable at a reasonable scale, for the whole department. Dr. Draws nods. There is then a brief pause, as Dir. Gibbs pulls out what appears to be an old blueprint. She spreads it on her desk, begins to scan it over. Dr. Draws cranes fir neck to peer at it. Dr. Draws: To be a bit more professional, ah— can I offer my aid with this? I've been meaning to get myself more out there with — y'know — actually doing things. Been itching for more field work. Dir. Gibbs looks up from the blueprint, she gives Dr. Draws a smile. Dir. Gibbs: I'll make sure to keep in touch with you, Draws. Some of your little talents may come in handy for this. Afterword: With the revival of Project Flipstrike, Dir. Gibbs would bring on Dr. Draws as the primary individual in the testing of SCP-7479 prototypes due to fir flight capabilities allowing for safe traversal of otherwise hazardous locations. Construction of the first SCP-7479 prototype began shortly after. SCP-7479-P. SCP-7479 is planned to be a modified geological analysis compass — tools typically used for orientation and mapping done in field work. In the past year, the Department of Geology has faced increasing difficulty in directional and angle mapping due to various anomalous interactions such as: North-South magnetism interference, non-Euclidian geometric locations, dimensional and spacial shifting, gravitational inversions, etc. SCP-7479 is intended as a amendment to these difficulties in the form of an adjusted multi-tool. Currently, SCP-7479 prototypes produced by the Department of Geology, while undergoing field testing to identify the different/various difficulties faced by personnel. Current prototypes are built with the capacity to be added upon, so that different iterations do not have to be repeatedly made in the event of successful augmentations. Test results will be added below as prototype adjustments are made and tested. Field Experimentation Logs: Summarized from the field journal of Dr. Draws Location/Challenge: Site-8007.1 — magnetic interference in the environment disorients compasses' directional abilities. Augmentations: Magnetic shielding placed underneath and around the needle. Field Observations: Attempts unsuccessful, magnetic shielding was too intense — rendering the needle incredibly inaccurate no matter the proximity to Site-8007.1's core. However, the instance became increasingly hot over the course of the testing due to Site-8007.1's environment — and eventually Dr. Draws temporarily called testing off due to having difficulty using it comfortably. Additional Notes: We might wanna try fireproofing this thing first, nearly burned through my gloves while I was handling it towards the end there. — Draws Location/Challenge: Site-8007.1 — high temperature environments risk melting the compass and rendering it nonfunctional. Augmentations: A series of runes have been etched into the exterior casing of SCP-7479-P, devised by Dir. Nerys.Site-8007.1 Director. Volcanologist, thaumatologist. to be a form of fire-proofing, devised from her own rituals. Field Observations: Initial, unmodified prototype had become incredibly hot when tested in the environment surrounding Site-8007.1 — to the point it was difficult to use, and the interior plastics were later found to have partially melted. Post augmentation, SCP-7479-P was able to withstand temperatures exceeding 1,500K — as well as anomalously produced heat sources. Attempts by other members of staff to replicate Dir. Nerys' original runic inscriptions have been successful, and a form of brand has since been created for easy and consistent modification of later SCP-7479 instances. Additional Notes: Whatever Director Nerys put into this was solid. I gave it a blast with my fire to make sure it could handle temperature from non-traditional fires/heat, and it didn't even have a scrape. Frankly, I'm glad, because I don't think that would've pleased my Director. — Draws Location/Challenge: Site-8007.1 — magnetic interference in the environment disorients compasses directional abilities. Augmentations: Shielding plates altered, thinned and weakened with the aims to filter out local interferences but focus global magnetics. Field Observations: Tests were functional, magnetism of SCP-7479-P's needle ignored the Site-8007.1 core. However, compasses must be individually calibrated based on the users locations due to magnetic North's discrepancies with true North, and tendency to shift. Additional Notes: Take two on the magnetism tests were thankfully successful this time, though honestly I'll take any excuse to meander around this Site; I did my dissertation on Those Below the Flames, and it's always breathtaking to see the bones down here. — Draws Location/Challenge: Sterling Hill Mine, New Jersey. Foundation monitored anomalous location noted for periodic dimensional warping and alteration, research ongoing. — Dimensional anomalies interfering with directional abilities, angle measurements due to distortion and warping. Augmentations: A small, orichalcum. An anomalously formed crystaline ore known for its capabilities in data storage and processing, alongside electric conductivity. core encoded with mathematical values relating to the baseline reality of Earth. Field Observations: The SCP-7479-P instance was functional for approximately 1 hour and 46 minutes within the space. At the 47th minute, Dr. Draws had placed it down to make notations within fir field notebook, and the instance abruptly detonated. Dr. Draws, Dir. Gibbs, and one other member of supervising staff were later treated for minor lacerations and burns. The test has been deemed unsuccessful, and the detonation is theorized to have been a result of the core being overloaded due to how extensive the values placed upon it were. Additional Notes: Ow — Draws Location/Challenge: Site-898 — Non-Euclidian geometric structures are difficult to map due to a lack of linear surfaces. Augmentations: Addition of a tertiary level to SCP-7479-P's structure, a curved level attachment with some flexibility to allow it to affix to surfaces. Field Observations: While Non-Euclidian geological anomalies are not yet properly understood, modified equations of strike and dip calculation and occurrence have been created. The added level's accuracy was tested via these equations for experimental accuracy on gathered samples present within Site-898's anomalous samples storage. Measurements from this addition produced a roughly 10% error, which has been considered proficient as long as this margin for error is noted in recorded values. Additional Notes: This style of math is a bit out of my depth, but I think I'm getting the hang of it. Hopefully now I'll be able to practice, if we find more of these weirdos out in the wild. — Draws Location/Challenge: Foundation Marine Research Vessel, Middle America Trench — highly pressurized environments risk cracking the compass's mirrors and levels. Augmentations: Internal glass and plastic altered with a Foundation made fiber-reinforced composite, akin to those utilized on some models of undersea submersible. Field Observations: Instance, placed inside a submersible, was lowered to a depth of roughly 3,000 meters below sea level. SCP-7479-P survived both the descent and depressurization with only a few hairline fractures upon its glass. After tests at depths of 2,000, 4,000 and 5,000 meters — this initial depth and pressure level has been decided as the upper limit that SCP-7479 can handle due to restrictions on budget and cost of materials. Additional Notes: The ocean makes me nervous from time to time, but it was pretty cool watching them set this all up. I did the math, and this these can withstand almost 3 million Pascals. We won't have to worry about any broken mirror bad luck with these puppies. — Draws Location/Challenge: Geological Research Site-898 — Gravitational anomalies interfere with built in levels, causes difficulty in mapping strike and dip of structures. Augmentations: Altered metal core of SCP-7479-P utilizing an anomalously modified osmium alloy.Densest naturally occurring element has been added to the central structure of SCP-7479-P to increase density, and center the levels of the compass onto itself. Field Observations: After the core had been inserted by Dir. Gibbs and Dr. Draws within one of the site's labs in a newly constructed prototype, Draws struggled to actively lift the object. The prototype instance was accidentally dropped, and created sparks upon colliding with the floor. This resulted in the alloy reacting oddly with the previously inscribed heat protection runes, and caused a rapid, unpredictable, increase of the prototype's density. Site security was called to aid in destroying the instance before it could break the floor of the lab. Additional Notes: …Goodness gracious. We're gonna have to lessen the intensity greatly, not sure what was in that alloy to cause such a reaction. It was downright bizarring to watch concrete bend. Probably for the better, though as Gibbs said that osmium costs an arm and a leg, doesn't seem too sustainable in retrospect. That aside, I think we're really getting somewhere with all this. — Draws Location/Challenge: Same as previous page. Augmentations: Small-scale thaumaturgic gyroscopic system, calibrated to 9.8 m/s². Downscaled version of pre-existing models utilized in some Foundation vessels. Field Observations: Stabilization successful, levels are now capable of recording baseline levels in non-base gravitational environments. Creation of these augmentations is time consuming, but downscaling from pre-existing models with little adjustment results in the means of creating them being already familiar, and the materials already on-hand. Additional Notes: My one intact prototype is beat to hell at this point, but I've got it fixed up a little bit and it's still ticking on good. I'm gonna ask Director Gibbs if I can keep it if it stays working by the time we finish up. Predictably I've gotten attached. — Draws Location/Challenge: Site-120 Augmentations: Previous successful augments have been combined with a small scale, but powerful ontokinetics ritual. This has been created with the aid of researchers at Site-120, with the intention of anchoring SCP-7479-P to baseline reality to further reinforce grounding of directional, dimensional and gravitational levelling. Field Observations: Testing involving passing SCP-7479-P through numerous Ways, and exposure to previous locations, has shown that the reality anchoring of the instance was successful. Ritual recreation and imbuement has been similarly successful on secondary prototypes, and is capable of being done on several at once. Thus the casting of the spell has been decided as the final step in the creation of SCP-7479 instances. Manufacturing of the anomaly has been taken over by Site-120 to expedite the process of creation. Additional Notes: It was a bit intimidating being in 120 for the first time while doing these tests. I ended up just talking with someone in the hall while Gibbs presented the proposal, and got a weird look from this tall fella who passed by when I brought up ice being a mineral. But, that's me rambling again. Gibbs and I got to throw something through a portal in the name of science, and that was certainly one way to have a cathartic celebration. With this test successful, we've finalized the prototype. Gibbs looked ecstatic, and frankly I am too. — Draws With the conclusion of the final test as of 10/02/2012, the experimentation of SCP-7479 has concluded and has since been deemed successful. The production and distribution of further instances is now underway. The final and functional SCP-7479-P instance has been left in the possession of Dr. Draws. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7479" by Dino—Draws, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7479. 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:Brujula_Brunton_01.jpg Author: LeCire License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Brujula_Brunton_01.jpg |
SCP-7480 | euclid | Fish^12 A goblin for the knowing ones. And this is my Author Page. SCP-7480 EUCLID SCP-7480 is within the bottom left frame of the cupboard. Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7480 is kept in a standard humanoid containment chamber with lights that have been dimmed. As part of Contract-7480, SCP-7480 is allowed to request cheap cigars, various refuse, and a sewing kit at monthly intervals. Due to various interpersonal relationships, SCP-7480 is obligated to stay on-site. This will continue so long as Foundation personnel continue to interact with SCP-7480. C0^Tact- 5;x 4 sIX ZevEN G1vE sTI3ks, Hearth, +ReAsure 51qn YEs ✓ Signed, Head Researcher Filia Description: SCP-7480 is a diminutive entity that commonly resides within dark and cramped spaces. SCP-7480 is reportedly uncomfortable when viewed in its entirety, and refuses to reveal itself unless lying prone with its rear hidden. SCP-7480 is generally wearing a mix of stained rags and newspapers. SCP-7480 is capable of short range teleportation in order to stay within its preferred environment, using it to either scavenge materials or discretely make contact with people. Although this property can potentially be used to escape containment, SCP-7480 is content with its current quality of life. [BEGIN LOG] Helena Aiolos is in the Site-12 breakroom. She fills up a kettle full of water and reaches for the cupboard handle above her. SCP-7480 groans, and looks down on Aiolos. She stares back. Aiolos: You could give someone a heart attack like that. SCP-7480: Yes, attack. I attack. Aiolos: Well, you're going to scare someone really badly. Y'know? SCP-7480: I have scary sharp teeeeeeth. Aiolos: You should tell people if you're gonna appear, okay? SCP-7480: Yes. Tell. I tell them so that I can scare them. SCP-7480 uses both hands to reveal a jar full of tea leaves. SCP-7480: I will keep this. Aiolos maintains eye contact as she fumbles with her coat pockets. She pulls out a wrapped lollipop. Aiolos: What about now? They stare at each other. SCP-7480: So easy. I trick you. Aiolos: Huh. So you did. SCP-7480: I take that now. Aiolos reaches up and places the lollipop on the shelf. SCP-7480 cranes its head while extending its arms as far as possible. Aiolos takes the jar. Aiolos: Thank you. SCP-7480: I trick you. SCP-7480 struggles to close the cupboard, as it had swung too far. Aiolos gently pushes it closed. Mischievous giggling can be heard from within. [END LOG] [BEGIN LOG] Aiolos knocks on SCP-7480's containment chamber. She leans against the wall and fiddles with her phone, until SCP-7480 opens the door and peeks out. SCP-7480: Youuuuu. Aiolos: It's polite to say people's names. Do you want to try? My name… is Helena. Helena. Now you do it. Silence. SCP-7480: Hlenya. Aiolos: You did very well. But… She leans in, and speaks quietly. Aiolos: Can you keep a secret? SCP-7480: Oh. Secrets. I keep many secrets. For selling. I am smart. Aiolos: Well, this secret will be the most expensive of all. SCP-7480: (Gasps) Give. Aiolos: You drive a hard bargain. I will tell you my secret. You see… I lost my glasses. SCP-7480: Oh, oh, oh. Naughty, naughty. Lost items belong to me. Aiolos: Oh no! I would give anything to get them back. SCP-7480: Anything?! Aiolos: Anything. SCP-7480 rapidly glances behind him, and down the hallways. SCP-7480: … Cigars? Aiolos: A whole pack of 'em. SCP-7480: I find your glasses… Aiolos reaches into her coat and pulls out a pack of cigars. SCP-7480 is silent, but noticeably shakes. SCP-7480: I trick you. SCP-7480 enters his chambers and closes the door. SCP-7480: (Muffled) I go find glasses! [END LOG] [BEGIN LOG] Aiolos is holding a coat hanger with a child's tweed suit. She looks at a recliner, and presses the button so that the leg rest kicks up. SCP-7480 can be seen underneath, sulking. SCP-7480: You think you are so tricky. Aiolos: How so? SCP-7480: Well, I TRICK YOU. I let you find me. Aiolos: It was a lucky guess. SCP-7480: (Grumbles) Lucky… Aiolos: Thank you for finding my glasses. SCP-7480: (Scoffs) I eated all the cigars, no takebacksies. Aiolos: Did you like them? Silence. SCP-7480: No. Aiolos: So you don't want more? SCP-7480: No. (Pause) Bring me more. Aiolos: Well, I'm feeling very generous today. SCP-7480: (Gasps) Gimme gimme gimme gimme- Aiolos: I'm going to give you this suit that I just so happen to have. SCP-7480 gawks at the clothes. SCP-7480: Nooooooo. You tricky. Aiolos: Nope. It's a gift. She rolls up the clothes and tucks it underneath the recliner. SCP-7480 continues to gawk at the clothes. SCP-7480: This is a trick. What do you WANT? Aiolos: Nothing. I just wanted to thank you, and this is a gift. You can have it. Silence. SCP-7480: … Forever? Aiolos: Forever. SCP-7480 grabs the bundle. SCP-7480: You did not trick me! I trick you! [END LOG] Addendum: SCP-7480 placed a drawing of itself in front of Helena Aiolos' quarters. When asked, SCP-7480 had allegedly never seen it before. The backside reads as follows. i Tr1ck y0V ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7480" by Fish^12, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7480. 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: goblin.png Author: Rod Waddington License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Cupboard,_Booga_County,_Arkansas_(7041002429).jpg Name: goblin2.png Author: E. B. Bensell License: Public Domain Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Davy_and_the_Goblin_031.jpg |
SCP-7481 | safe | SCP-7481-1 does not have any undue impact on protected sapients under the Garlic Control Act; PsychicProgrammer SCP-7481: Store Bought Evil may be Substituted. + CODE - CODE /* BLANKSTYLE CSS [2021 Wikidot Theme] By Placeholder McD and HarryBlank Based on: Paperstack Theme by EstrellaYoshte Penumbra Theme by EstrellaYoshte */ @import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Montserrat:ital,wght@0,800;1,800&display=swap'); #page-content { font-size: .9rem; } #main-content { top: -1.6rem; padding: 0.2em; } div#container-wrap { background-image: none; } div#header { background-image: none; } #header h1, #header h2 { margin-left: 0; float: none; text-align: center; } #header h2 { margin-top: 0.5rem; } #header h1 span, #header h2 span { font-size: 0; display: none;} #header h1 a::before, #header h2::before { color: #000; letter-spacing: 1px; font-family: 'Montserrat', sans-serif !important; text-shadow: none; } #header h1 a::before { content: var(--header-title, "R\0026 C SITE-43"); 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} .tableb .wiki-content-table { border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 2px; } .tableb .scp-image-block { border: none; } .tableb .scp-image-block img { border: #000 1px solid; box-sizing: border-box; } .tableb .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { margin-top: 2px; border: #000 1px solid; box-sizing: border-box; } .top-left-box > .item { display: none; } /* ---- WORDS NO LONGER BROKEN, THE CROQUEMBOUCHE HAS SPOKEN ---- */ span, a { word-break: normal !important } .avatar-hover { display: none !important; } #breadcrumbs, .pseudocrumbs { text-align: center; padding-top: 10px; } #main-content .page-tags span { max-width: 100%; } /* -- FANCY THINGS from Woedenaz's Dustjacket Theme -- */ .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://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/theme%3Aflopstyle-dark/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://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/theme%3Aflopstyle-dark/wl_border.png') 600 round; border-image-width: 6; padding: 2vw; } Containment Notice: This material safety data sheet document details an anomalous substance created and used by the Foundation for preventative applications and containment of SCP-7481. As such, it does not require active containment but may pose danger to individuals using it. Item Number: SCP-7481-1 Special Containment Procedures: Section 1: Handling and Storage Storage: Store in a tightly-sealed container in a cool, brightly-lit, well-ventilated environment. Do not store in the same cabinet as oxidizing materials or incompatible substances. Ensure all vessels are transparent to let light through. Rutile is preferable due to its refractive properties. Handling: Avoid contact with skin, clothes, and eyes. Keep away from sparks, heat, and sources of sin1. Ensure adequate ventilation. Avoid breathing vapor or mist. Intersite transport: Public shipping name: Hexasulfide wurztinite Hazard class: 6.1 UN number: 7481 Packing group: III Section 2: Exposure Controls and Personal Protection Exposure limits: 50 parts per million (PPM) in air. Personal protective equipment: Eyes: Splash goggles; Skin: Nitrile gloves. Do not use latex or any other materials associated with the concept of lust; Clothing: Standard hazardous substances lab coat; Engineering controls: All facilities storing or utilizing SCP-7481-1 should have a holy water eyewash station, ventilation, and a safety shower. Section 3: Stability and Reactivity Chemical stability: Stable at room temperature. May form explosive mixtures in high-oxygen environments. Will degrade or self-replicate depending on local noöspheric environment. Conditions to avoid: Excess heat, all forms of sin, Class 4 plastics, confined spaces. Incompatibilities: Strong oxidizers, any substance associated with purification (such as bleach or soap), strong bases, any plants from the Boswellia and Commiphora families, and chemically inert metals like gold, silver, lead, and all platinum group metals. Under no circumstances is SCP-7481-1 to be brought into contact with any substance with a conceptual link to mirror polish. This includes all alcohol-based solvents. SCP-7481-1 may undergo a Kierkegaard reaction with any substance containing significant amounts of sapient soul, such as maple syrup. Section 4: Regulatory Information International Controlled substance under the Veil protocol; Class 12 anomalous substance; SCP-7481-1 is cleared for use in civilian applications, veiled and unveiled; Maximum allowable limit for civilians: 0.4g2g per year; Maximum allowable limit for researchers 10g per year; European European Labeling in Accordance with EC Directive 67/548/EEC. Hazard Symbols: Risk Phrases: R 40 Limited evidence of a carcinogenic effect; SCP-7481-1 does not have any undue impact on protected sapients under the Garlic Control Act; SCP-7481-1 does have mild amnestic effects as per the Right to Remember Act (Class 4: Corrupting). US Federal Clean Air Act: SCP-7481-1 is classified as a Hazardous Air Pollutant (HAP); This material does not contain any Class 1/2 Ozone depletors. Clean Water Act SCP-7481-1 is a toxic water pollutant; SCP-7481-1 is a controlled substance as a demonarcotic precursor; SCP-7481-1 is known to the Securities and Exchange Commission(SEC) for its potential to induce various financial crimes. California Prop 65 All consumer products containing SCP-7481-1 are to contain the following warning: Warning: SCP-7481-1 is known to the state of California to cause cancer. California No Significant Risk Level: CAS# 7481 200 æg/day NSRL (inhalation); 50 æg/day NSRL. Section 5: Environmental and Veil Concerns Ecotoxicity: SCP-7481-1 has moderate aquatic ecotoxic effects and may disrupt ecosystems. Noöspheric: SCP-7481-1 has significant Nöospheric effects if released. Veil: SCP-7481-1 has minor veil-impacting effects. The associated NPOs2 are: Pauperes commilitones Christi Templique Salomonici.3 The Roman Catholic Church. The Foundation for the Secure Containment of the Paranormal's4 Tactical Theology department. Section 6: Toxicological Information LD50s5: Inhalation, mouse: 20mg per g; Ingestion, mouse: 50mg per g; Injection, mouse: 5mg per g; Inhalation, mouse, Sapient6: 2mg per g; Ingestion, mouse, Sapient: 5mg per g; Injection, mouse, Sapient: 0.5mg per g. Mutagenicity: Not known to be mutagenic. Neurotoxic effects: Currently under study. Teratogenicity: Strong increase in behavioral defects related to aggression in mice. Reproductive Effects: Incensed drive for mating in mice. Noted to decrease monoamorous tendencies in mice. If said mouse already had a partner, no change otherwise. Carcinogenic: Type 2B. Nöotoxic: Major nöotoxic effects causing dissociation between the self and objects of faith held by the subject7. SCP-7481 becomes exponentially more toxic with total intake per unit of time. Section 7: Hazard Identification Potential Health Effects: Skin: May be absorbed by the skin. Can cause irritation and permanent reddening; Ingestion: Causes severe gastrointestinal distress. May cause permanent loss of taste; Inhalation: Linked to causing narcissistic behavior. May cause narcotic effects in high concentrations; Eyes: May cause blindness, intense cynicism, and feelings of jealousy; Soul: May cause deep-seated corruption; Chronic: Known carcinogen. May cause reproductive and fetal effects. Increased chances of haunting. Suspected theological toxin. Target organs: Blood, frontal lobe, soul. Section 8: First Aid Measures Skin: In case of contact, flush thoroughly with plenty of holy water. Remove all contaminated clothing for disposal. Get medical aid and/or priestly intervention if the skin is swollen, irritated, or reddened. Ingestion: Do not induce vomiting unless directed by site medical personnel. If unconscious do not put anything into the subject's mouth. Inhalation: If inhaled, provide fresh air in direct sunlight8. If not breathing, administer CPR. If the subject has difficulty breathing, administer oxygen with holy water nebulizer treatment. Eyes: In case of contact wash out eyes with a holy water eye station for 5 minutes, then stare directly into the sun for 5 seconds, and proceed to wash eyes for another 10 minutes. Soul: If soul contact occurs, administer a Class Four exorcism as soon as possible. Uncertified9 personnel should not attempt an exorcism. The subject should be restrained. Section 9: Disposal Chemical waste involving SCP-7481-1 must be disposed of as per document SCP-7481-D. Waste is not to be disposed of by burning, environmental disposal, or ritual cleansing without proper training. Section 10: Veil Measures In case of a major SCP-7481-1 spill into the environment, local social media is to be algorithmically manipulated to provide cover for a regional upswing in violence. If a city in Europe or Latin America is affected, an association football match is to be held as soon as possible. Genetically modified E. coli strain 888 shall be released in the area to decompose SCP-7481-1. A wide area purification ritual is to be held before the next full moon. Check Document SCP-7481-LV for the appropriate instruments. All third-party proposals to ban SCP-7481-1's usage in consumer products on grounds of its status as a carcinogenic material are to be rejected through established bureaucratic channels. Due to widespread SCP-7481-1 contamination in the area in the Gulf Coastal Lowlands of Florida, there is a significant personnel shortage for cleansing. Safety protocols for large-scale manufacturing and transport of SCP-7481-1 are under revision. Florida is now being used to study the effects of long-term exposure to SCP-7481-1. UPDATE: Due to changes in containment protocols for SCP-748110, spills of SCP-7481-1 are not to be cleaned. Safety procedures are to be updated for significant scaling up and dispersal of SCP-7481-1. Description: [REDACTED: Please enter LV3/RAPTURE credentials to continue] Footnotes 1. See Document 7481-Deontological for details on the objective nature of sin. 2. Normalcy Preservation Organization 3. Usually known as the Knights Templar Reformed, a founding member of the Global Occult Coalition (GOC). 4. Usually known as the SCP Foundation 5. Lethal dose for 50% of the population. 6. Using the standard Hyper-intelligent Model Laboratory Rodent developed by Prometheus Labs. 7. Currently confirmed for Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Confucian, Hindu beliefs, certain types of patriotism, and faith in friends and family. Faith in the stock market and cryptocurrencies are unaffected. 8. Moonlight is not an an effective substitute despite being reflected sunlight. 9. Accepted standards include Foundation Certification TT5812, a certification of competence in the rite major exorcisms from the Regina Apostolorum Pontifical University or ICSUT NEC512 certification. 10. See ruling EC2459 on responses to K class events. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7481" by psychicprogrammer, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7481. 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: image1.jpg Name: File:Hazard N.svg Author: N/A License: CC0 Source Link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Hazard_N.svg Filename: image2.jpg Name: File:Hazard F.svg Author: N/A License: CC0 Source Link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Hazard_F.svg Filename: image3.jpg Name: File:Hazard T.svg Author: N/A License: CC0 Source Link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Hazard_T.svg Filename: image4.jpg Name: File:Hazard Xi.svg Author: N/A License: CC0 Source Link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Hazard_Xi.svg |
SCP-7485 | keter | Item#: 7485 Level4 Containment Class: keter Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: ekhi Risk Class: warning link to memo An SCP-7485 instance, photographed moments before it left Earth. Special Containment Procedures: Disinformation Team δ-14 is to remain on standby to prevent sightings of SCP-7485 via the use of a viral antimeme. Further containment of SCP-7485 is currently infeasible. Description: SCP-7485 is the designation for instances of an extraterrestrial vehicle that are infrequently sighted within the solar system. Limited observation of the objects has allowed the Foundation to determine the following: Objects are oblate with a spheroid, glass-like section in the middle, presumably allowing occupants to see outside the vehicle. A bright yellow object with unintelligible symbols engraved is typically seen attached to the vehicle's tail-end. Objects are capable of surpassing the speed of light, enabling for quick traversal of the solar system. Objects are piloted by a bipedal species with unusually long and thin limbs. More detailed physical features are unable to be verified as subjects seem to be wearing a white protective suit. Occupants seem to be either unaware of or indifferent to Foundation attempts to photograph them. It is uncertain whether or not SCP-7485 is a single instance or numerous objects with similar behavior. SCP-7485 has been periodically spotted in the solar system since 1948. Addendum 7485.1: Recordings Following an advancement in long-range recording devices, Tsukalous.aic was prompted to record and archive the actions of an SCP-7485 instance entering the solar system. Date: 03/14/2025 Time: 11:03 AM - 11:35 AM Observed action: Instance slowly moves through the Kuiper Belt and enters the solar system. The vehicle proceeds to complete a full orbit of Neptune before proceeding to Saturn. The vehicle repeatedly drives between individual comets within Saturn's rings. During this time red flashing lights were occasionally visible on its tail end. The vehicle eventually stops and continues towards open space. Time: 12:15 PM - 12:45 PM Observed action: Instance comes to a stop in an open clearing near Saturn. An occupant is seen exiting the vehicle, retrieving five cone-shaped items from its tail-end, and placing them in an oval arrangement. The items are constructed of an unknown metal, and manage to retain perfect stillness in space . The vehicle spends thirty minutes weaving in between these objects, reversing itself upon completing the motion in order to restart. Time: 12:55 - 1:10 PM Observed action: Instance enters the atmosphere, making its way to a remote clearing in Michigan. Containment teams are positioned to disinform the public in the case of any sightings. Due to its proximity to planted recording devices, the following audio was picked up by the Foundation. The audio has been transcribed below. Audio [[00:00]] Recording begins, two voices can be heard throughout. One of them speaks slower and louder than the other, with the latter voice speaking softer and fast. [[00:10]] The two occupants seem to converse in an unintelligible language momentarily before rough scratching sounds are heard. The scratching sounds persist for five minutes, being occasionally interrupted by speech. [[00:15]] A violent tearing sound is heard, coinciding with shuffling and more indiscernible speech. [[00:25]] The Occupants seem to reach the end of their conversation. A mechanical shifting sound is briefly heard before the vehicle begins to ascend. [[00:30]] The vehicle ascends into the air and quickly exits recording range. As such, the recording automatically ends. As the vehicle began to exit the atmosphere, Tsoukalous.aic was able to photograph the yellow sign on its tail-end. Following various attempts, Tsoukalous.aic was able to successfully decode the message, which has been reproduced below. Show text? [Y] STUDENT DRIVER Please be patient! |
SCP-7488 | esoteric-class | Thank you for coming here. It's nice to have some eyes. Item#: 7488 Level1 Containment Class: esoteric Secondary Class: chhokmah Disruption Class: amida Risk Class: notice link to memo Special Containment Procedures: This is a show-and-tell, SCP-7488 should stand on stage. It takes out a block of resin containing Picasso's beating heart and consumes it in front of an audience. Man, woman, child, they watch as the taste of artificial leaves are wasted before their eyes. Darling, don't pout. Or do, whatever makes you feel better. Brighten up its day, kick its kneecaps inward, take a sip of gasoline. Nobody's going to stop you, and I doubt you'd do the same. Here, stand in line. See in front of you a crowd of isolated and globalized actors cutting fingers from their hands. You went to theatre school, didn't you? How fulfilling was it to play tree number three? Time to smoke, time to shoot plasma from your veins. Watch as they all sit down when you stand. Watch as you return the favor. Watch as you all plead for God's hand to grace you. SCP-7488's footsteps on the creaking boards, they echo through as applause soon follows. Overwhelming, isn't it? Don't worry, it's only normal. Just smile for me, okay? This booze tastes like salt water. Description: SCP-7488 is an individual concept or a conceptual individual. It alternates between solid, liquid, and gas. Spheres, it has a lot of those. When the light comes pouring in, they grow and double. They surround you, they face your direction, they stay in silence. White, bright, almost blinding. God, the skies are straining. Shit, I can't see. They all died, screaming. SCP-7488 wields a gun. The bullets are painted in kaleidoscopic hues. They shoot you down and you hurl colors, honey-kissed dreams doused in dull diamonds and sharp rubies. The sound of infant thunderstorms pierce your eardrums, reminding you of octagonal shapes coated in melted roses. As you leak every part of yourself, the sound of ringing will remind you of those golden days. Childhood, seventh birthday party. Your parents came to class mid-recess and you celebrated for half the day. It'll remind you of that chocolate sponge cake, all the slices you ate. Whipped cream, sprinkles on top, resting on those plastic plates. It tastes sour at first but it's sweet in the middle. Though, most people forget about the silver platter underneath. SCP-7488 has shot numerous shadows on its way here. We found them in those alleyways, makes sense. It always treats them as photography sessions, putting on those red filters. The rattling in their brains, their heads tilting left to right. I hear them late at night, leaving hallucinogens on my front door. They smell like asphalt. I can hear them breathing down my neck but I never turn the right way. Disappearing, missing. How many cases has it's been? Anyone can be of use, I can tell from the markings on their throat, their wrists, their ankles. But they don't care, do they? They're still smiling, they're still satisfied. What's wrong? Isn't this what you wanted? Actually, no. SCP-7488 is a contagion, a disease causing pandemics on a daily basis. Every corner and crevice, everyone you know and loved. Gone, reduced to baby powder. They can see them, they can see you. Check your pockets, full of compasses. Check your surroundings, they're all compasses. North, the only direction they can really face. Before you know it, they want your neck on display, they want to drink from your crystal skull. Emerald eyes, glistening in the moonlight. They shed your skin, they wear your hands, they embrace your shell like a blanket on a late winter night. Sometimes, you question why they they do so: Maybe it's all those frequent engagements with light therapy; Maybe it's irritation from those two-to-ten record scratching; Maybe it's all the times you've clapped with one hand; Maybe it's the scent of perfume and smoke; Maybe they just know who you are. I can sense every shade of gray coating the buildings and streets. An abundance of geometry, a variety of monotony. Those strikes of rainbow turning the gears, you know them for a fact. Pompous folks, offering hands to shake with a preference for lookalikes. You feel them, those trances, those rollercoaster rides. You see it, the speedometer as it reaches its climax. The last time you checked, your bed lost its wrinkles. The same people cross the street with bites on their body like hickeys. You cannot help but notice how they scratch it constantly, gnawing their itch as a plead for ataraxy. It's no use, though. Their pigments melt into wine to flood the wound. And then, they stopped. They all stop at some point. You never bother to notice. Uncle wanted to be an astronomer. Remember those summer nights? When you came over and peaked through his antique telescope? Chamaeleon, Pegasus, the Big Dipper. Remember not seeing them at first, not understanding what they mean? When uncle simply shrugged it off with a grin and patted your head, saying not to think about it too much? When he said you'll "understand" soon enough? Honestly, there's not even a point asking any of these questions. They used to remember those short-term memories. It's all we ever were from the beginning. Tidbits and pieces, jigsaw puzzles of starry nights. But they keep crying, they keep screeching. Slowly but surely, I can discern the sound of a sound going out, vocal chords being damaged beyond repair. Those long-term memories, everyone seems to adore them more. I thought they hated them, last time I checked. I killed a few of them the other day, took out their spines just to see for myself. Arches, they're all arches. Fuck. This is the part where you cry. Addendum-1: From An Outside Perspective This is a wake-up call. Test: Today is a commemoration for me, myself, and I. Sweet buns and sugar, it tastes like candied apples. You used to relate before those trick-or-treating seasons. Every other day of the week, you eat too much chocolate sometimes. Result: Brewing some coffee. As expected, it's bitter. Drowning in angel dust, drowning in skim milk. It still marches down your hometown, parading through the streets, throwing darts near your direction. A frown, maybe. A sense of recognition, perhaps. Though, I doubt you'd care. This is an intervention. Test: A rectangle has been imprinted in your retinas. The sound of church bells, the people cry for you. Acquaintances from time to time, but it's mostly those innocent bystanders walking beside you. Oddly enough, your jaw hangs in awe, your eyes widen in disbelief. They can see you. Result: Yet every day is the same, rewind and repeat. Grandpa's old gramophone can only sing for so long, you know. Even then, you still hum along to those tunes, ignoring the distortion and every layer of dust. I hear your notes as prayers, I hear your lyrics as strains. A lost lamb looking for a patch of homegrown grass. This is a painting, tacky in all its glory. Test: You shower in maternal rain and paternal disdain. Good morning, bad mourning. Everyone before you is spending droplets of salt water on you, but they're saving most for later. Your soul, your sole. Bubblegum stains, smiling every step of the way. Result: How much does a dollar cost? A minute of your time, a time of your life. "Fuck it all up, fuck everyone over." Memetic in nature, those whispers of theirs turn to full-on screams when you're knocking on the door. You're art in and of itself, drinking poetry. They stare at the skies, they glare at the clouds. Hold on, hold on… Can I speak for myself for a minute? Addendum-2: The Streisand Effect, Personified Description (revised): SCP-7488 is a spokesperson using Shakespearean language. It can learn tricks like a canine and teach tricks like a master. SCP-7488 is sapient. SCP-7488 is intelligent. SCP-7488 eats word salad for breakfast. Hello? Mic check, mic check. SCP-7488 is a human or humanoid at its best. The most inhumane humaneness, the best of the worst and vice versa. It lays out the groundwork, some wood to stand on without worry of any cracks. It can speak, it is speaking— —you are hearing me now. Hello, folks. Missed me? It's that time of the year again. It's Thanksgiving season. Everyone here, every person before me, you're welcomed into my arms. I'm one in a million in a crowd of dimes. Isn't that poetic? «Cheering, they're all cheering. I wave to the camera.» Heh, well, SCP-7488 is but one definition on my belt. Designations, tags, nineteen letters struck through the heart. What do you guys think? Can they hear me now? Can you hear me now? Let me hear you scream! «They scream, can't tell if it's joyful or unsettling.» Don't you hear the clattering of teeth? Don't you taste the half-empty bottle of rum? Don't you see the Morse code I send through blinks? All in unison, all united. It's a sort of beauty, in a way. I remember going for a school trip to the museum. Many exhibitions, many public displays, many times I broke in and vandalized the pieces. They were incomplete until I came around. Now, they're beautiful. You can be, too. Don't you agree? «They pour to my feet, begging for autographs.» Back in my day, green thumbs were cybernetic. I was raised in half a home, a quarter of free time. My mother was a violinist, leading me to sleep every night. My father was a mechanic, making adjustments to those automobiles. I give my thanks to them. I keep their bodies in my closet whenever rain or shine comes through the window. I'll be sure to bury myself with them when the time comes. School was certainly a period of time. I was a people person in a room of people people, especially during those council meetings. My grades were on sea level, my friends were on sea level, my teachers were on sea level. But I know, I know I can walk on water. I tend to be a troublemaker, digging six feet holes and keeping duct tape stashed away in my bag. They just don't know, they just don't see the wunderkind arriving on the scene. «The sound of megaphones, auditory mirrors, those Tinker Bell creatures. They bring a sense of peace in me.» I come from the sea, the fishes call my name through bubbles. Tides and the oceans, they give way when I make a path. You can call me Moses when I'm on stage. Even then, though, I still aim higher and higher. Here I am, relaying tastes of pastries to the audience. I find myself residing in Mount Everest, but it's still not enough. No offence, but I want to shoot for the stars. Watch as I pierce through the ozone layer and beyond someday. And when I make my destination, I want you to be waiting for me. I hope you're waiting for me. «A lot of them are wearing headphones, but they're still roaring with laughter.» You folks are lucky to see me here. I'm not one for discussions, casual conversations. I love them, though. The people wear metal armor when they’re near me, pointing two fingers at whoever whenever for whatever. Some at my path, some around it. My wine cup is a crystal skull, bearing emeralds for eyes. They see me, I see them twice as much. At this point, you should pay me to be here. «Someone turns their head from the light. I frown. You don't see that every day.» But there's always those people, facing ninety-degrees, switching back and forth, living from the shoe box. There's even one in the crowd right now, the eighth wonder of the world. What a curious feeling. I ask for their name, they forget to tell me. I ask again, and I don't bother hearing. A lack of words, a lack of statements, a lack of anything sensible. They form half-sentences I can never understand. «I hold my breath. Someone screeches in the crowd. I smile again.» Still, it makes me wonder how they can do it. How do you sleep at night without those thoughts of me? How do you wake up in the morning without my help? How can you, how can you… How can you be so content? Addendum-3: Interview Log Interviewer: SCP-7488 Interviewee: [ANONYMOUS] Foreword: How? [BEGIN LOG] SCP-7488: Have you ever committed a crime before? Like, a major crime. [Pause. ANONYMOUS observes the lack of surroundings.] ANONYMOUS: …Where am I — SCP-7488: Let me rephrase that: Have you ever considered committing a crime before? [ANONYMOUS blinks, fading.] SCP-7488: Battery, armed robbery, assault. Maybe homicide? You look like the type of person to kill someone. First degree, second degree. Third degree? Does that even exist? I don't know. I didn't go to law school. ANONYMOUS: Who are you? SCP-7488: (Shrugs) A lot of things. An enigma, a craftsman, a person of a higher plane. The words I speak, everyone else says twice of. Every meaning I give is halved through their teeth. I am seen, I am known, I am held to a height above you. I am the taste of honey and vinegar, a gentle stream, a burning in your throat. I am everything you're not and more. ANONYMOUS: That doesn't really answer my question. SCP-7488: Well, I doubt you'd understand. I don't even know why I'm here. I have eyes to be seen, I have mouths that speak about me. I'm a hot potato being passed around frantically every few minutes or so. The free time I have follows every blue moon. [SCP-7488 drums its fingers on the table.] SCP-7488: And yet I'm here, talking to a non-concept. Less than nothing, the reflection of a mirror's reflection. If you were a word in the dictionary, you wouldn't even have your own definition. At this point, I forget why I'm here. It's like I lost my mind… again. [SCP-7488 buries its face into its hands, pondering. ANONYMOUS stares at it.] SCP-7488: No, wait. I know. [SCP-7488 places its hands on the table before striking a glance at ANONYMOUS. It clicks its tongue.] SCP-7488: So, how 'bout it, ANONYMOUS? ANONYMOUS: Hm? SCP-7488: (Tilts head) Your potential, don't you want to know? ANONYMOUS: What do you mean? SCP-7488: Don't you see it? Everything and everyone in front of you? Sure, it tastes somewhat bitter but I'm sure you'll learn to get used to it eventually. It keeps you awake, alert, alive even. Nothing wrong with a few cups, a sip or two is good too. Doesn't it pique your interest? [ANONYMOUS blinks several times.] ANONYMOUS: Not really. SCP-7488: Yeah, I figured. [SCP-7488 slouches in its seat, fixated on the ceiling light. It's burning.] ANONYMOUS: If you're finished, I'll just head back to my office. SCP-7488: Oh, you're leaving? ANONYMOUS: I don't see why I should be here. Honestly, all you've done is rant. SCP-7488: I'm giving you an offer, ANONYMOUS. See, right now, you're unremarkable in every sense of the word. People hear your name and forget the next time they talk to you. With me, you won't have to go through that anymore. I'm basically your solution. ANONYMOUS: Well, it's not like I find any problems with how things are. SCP-7488: That's a lie. ANONYMOUS: No, it's not. SCP-7488: Really now? [SCP-7488 sighs.] SCP-7488: Look, I'm only trying to help. If it were anyone else, I wouldn't go out of my way to perform this public stunt. You're an exception, you're special. A special kind of no one. I'm giving you the opportunity of a lifetime here. I can take you outside. I can turn on the lights for you. Don't you want the people to see? ANONYMOUS: …I'm okay with how things are. Really, it feels like what you're describing sounds pretty exhausting. SCP-7488: Trust me, it's rejuvenating. You don't get chances like these every day, y'know? ANONYMOUS: Eh, I don't really mind. SCP-7488: At least take some time to consider. ANONYMOUS: I have, and I'd rather consider otherwise. [A window opens, exposing sunlight.] SCP-7488: But the eyes, the light — [The light pierces through ANONYMOUS as they are translucent.] ANONYMOUS: I don't want to blind myself. SCP-7488: But the thrill of it. The taste of coffee, the milk and sugar inside. The, uh… the… (snaps fingers) What else is there, hm… [SCP-7488 stares off into space.] SCP-7488: God, you're being stubborn. ANONYMOUS: Aren't you the one being stubborn? SCP-7488: Huh? What do you— [Eyes are opened.] ANONYMOUS: I mean, think about it. You keep going on and on about whatever it is I don't know of. Sure, it sounds cool and all, but it feels like you're just wording it fancily without actually telling me what you want. And besides, I've said this already, but I don't mind leaving things as they are. [SCP-7488 raises an eyebrow.] ANONYMOUS: I'm already used to living like this. I don't mind being in the shadows, I don't mind staying in the dark, I don't mind spending my days quietly. I'm not looking for a change of pace, really. SCP-7488: You'll miss out, then. You'll be missing out on everything and every— ANONYMOUS: So? [SCP-7488 pauses, showing a face implying confusion.] SCP-7488: You don't understand. Jumping over the fence, isn't it tempting? There's no need to be this… shell, this piece of whatever or… [SCP-7488 taps its foot.] SCP-7488: (Sharp inhale) I'm your antithesis, ANONYMOUS, but that doesn't have to be the case. I can show you, I can make you see the light. Then, it'll all click for you. Your eyes will be open. Your name will be cleared. ANONYMOUS: There's nothing wrong with some shut-eye, is there? SCP-7488: That's not… what? [The sound of applause can be faintly heard.] ANONYMOUS: I only need my eyes to see, no one else's. SCP-7488: What's happening? [Chanting can be faintly heard.] ANONYMOUS: Maybe you should try things from my perspective sometimes. It seems pretty stressful on your end, but I doubt I really know how it's like, huh? [SCP-7488 lowers its head.] SCP-7488: I don't… what are you saying? [A name can somewhat be discerned. Nothing follows.] ANONYMOUS: Sorry to disappoint, whoever you are, but I'm dead set on my decision. Thank you for the offer, though. [Everything suddenly falls silent.] [Pause.] [SCP-7488 raises its head and sees ANONYMOUS, who is still translucent.] SCP-7488: Hold on… [SCP-7488 waves a hand in front of ANONYMOUS's face, causing the footage to become distorted before returning. The former takes a deep breath.] SCP-7488: Hm, I think I get it. ANONYMOUS: Uh, get what? [Another pause.] SCP-7488: You're not nothing at all, are you? Definitely not a synonym but not distinct enough to be an antonym. A middle man in a way. Who knows, but you're certainly something, something entirely different. [SCP-7488 stands up and stares at you.] ANONYMOUS: I guess I'll be leaving, then? SCP-7488: Mhm, okay. (Smiles) See you never, ANONYMOUS. [ANONYMOUS ceases to be. SCP-7488 spends the next number of time intervals in perpetual silence. The sound of whispering can be detected occasionally.] SCP-7488: (Mumbles) Going to the beach, the sandcastles and the seashells. An absence of friction, a resolution, a sense of tranquility. Friday sunlight, Saturday hugs, Sunday service. A time where time just stops… maybe I should drink some tea for once. [A whistling noise fades away.] SCP-7488: Too many eyes, too much conflict. Goodnight, America— [Footage abruptly cuts.] [END LOG] Afterword: SCP-7488-1 is a book, a story, the pages within. From toothy grins and water buckets to foundations aflame, the audience's expression frequently shifts. Everyone knows it, wants it, becomes it in some form or another. A collective character, passed around without cessation. SCP-7488-2 is tinted glass, the translucent figures, the time from the spotlight. A library, its patrons, a ringing in the air. It's a time to sit by the waves and live between the static. It's a moment where we can do some spring cleaning and tidy up the house. A something that everything mistakes as nothing. In most cases, the two anomalies described above tend to be separate from one another. However, when both come into contact, they form a balance scale, designated SCP-7488-3. Reclassification is pending. This is the part where you clap. More From This Author More From This Author winkwonkboi's Works SCPs SCP-7735 (+31) • SCP-6545 (+76) • SCP-7538 (+109) • SCP-2689 (+53) • SCP-6245 (+63) • SCP-7657 (+39) • SCP-6895 (+31) • SCP-8386 (+33) • SCP-8245 (+76) • SCP-6039 (+72) • SCP-6714 (+96) • SCP-7156 (+21) • SCP-7199 (+43) • SCP-5245 (+48) • SCP-7245 (+54) • Tales/GoI Formats #WettleAppreciationPost (+135) • man overboard! (+29) • ur typical unrequited love (+32) • A Sinking Feeling (+26) • Roses And Thorns (+18) • A Taste For Sore Eyes (+12) • water diet (+27) • People Care, Dear (+14) • In an attempt to feel something. (+32) • Critter Profile: Miss Cassandra! (+37) • Goodnight, Sweet Dreams (+21) • Why Jones Marcel Should Be Employee of the Century (+11) • Something's Burning (+40) • Anomalous Entity Engagement Division Orientation (+51) • In Kirby's Case, Part I: An Antithesis (+11) • Other froot froggo :) (+41) • the winkwonk page v2 (+37) • DITTO: SCP-#### Fanart (+42) • RESPOND: Telecommunications Monitoring Office Fanart (+48) • CRACKHEAD: SCP-173 Fanart (+31) • Certified Criminal (+36) • King CalcaRuler: Halloween Emperor (+29) • 7K DOODLES (+72) • Collection Of Trolls (8999 Fanart) (+89) • ENLIGHTENMENT: SCP-6059 Fanart (+42) • FISHER: SCP-2689 Fanart (+24) • HELTHY: SCP-6780 Fanart (+29) • fading stars doodles (straight from my phone's sketchbook app) (+35) • SCiPTEMBER DOODLES (+23) • a lack of care. (+28) • ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7488" by winkwonkboi, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7488. 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-7489 | euclid | #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 SCP-7489 “Document Updated to Follow ACE Archival Guidelines” by: Mew-ltiverse and RuraScarlet Read more of Mew's stuff Note from Archival, Containment, and Ethics departments As of 1/1/2023 the following containment procedure document has been revised to fit the Humane Standard of Documentation; included changes are correction of third person pronouns and the addition of context provided by SCP-7489 himself. Year: 1995 Item #: SCP-7489 Special Containment Procedures: Standard Humanoid Containment Cell equipped with a child-sized desk and stationery. Anomaly activates upon touch; if subject is visited by researchers, or if subject leaves his containment cell, all parties must be placed in Category C full coverage clothing or equivalent coverage in any Foundation-standard PPE. Artwork done by SCP-7489 during his first few days of containment. Description: SCP-7489 is a ten-year-old child identified as Terrence Jovial “TJ” Hatcher, with red curly hair and blue eyes. Upon skin to skin contact with a physically injured human (or any organism with features congruent to a human), any and all wounds present on the organism's body will be healed, and SCP-7489 will gain these wounds in their place. Discovery: SCP-7489 was brought into Foundation custody by Agent Buck in critical condition after accidentally absorbing a wound he had sustained in a prior mission. Subject, named TJ, was ten years old with no prior experience of formal schooling due to living in a rural farm in Cosby, Tennessee, USA. Agent Buck lived in that town prior and was there due to a family gathering when he encountered SCP-7489 and caused the activation of the anomaly. Interview Log Date: December 10, 1995 Interviewers: Dr. Teresa Milna, Psy. D Interviewee: TJ Hatcher (SCP-7489) Presiding: Agent Buck as overseer proxy. Dr. Milna: Hello, SCP-7489. SCP-7489: … Dr. Milna: What's your name? SCP-7489: TJ. Dr. Milna: TJ, nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Milna, and I'm going to ask you some questions, okay? SCP-7489: (nods) Dr. Milna: Okay. Let's start simple. Tell me about yourself. It's okay to look at me, don't be scared. SCP-7489: …is that a question? Dr. Milna: Of course it is. I want to know something, so you tell me something. SCP-7489: Mikky told JJ and Claire and everyone to use "real" questions when asking me anything. Dr. Milna: Oh, is Mikky what you call Agent Buck? SCP-7489: I don't know Agent Buck. Dr. Milna: Tall man, looks a little like you, wears a white suit everywhere. Has a white hat? SCP-7489: Oh! Mmhm. Mm-hmm. Mikky is a cowboy for space cows. That's why he has two guns. Dr. Milna: Space cows? SCP-7489: I wanna draw now. Do you have paper, miss doctor Milna? Dr. Milna: You can draw on the back of this paper. Sorry it's just pen and not crayons. SCP-7489: It's okay. I like everything that draws. Dr. Milna: …how is your wound doing? SCP-7489: Wound? Dr. Milna: The bleeding, the… your tummy. SCP-7489: It hurts. On the outside, not a tummyache. Dr. Milna takes note here that SCP-7489 has no additional anomalous healing factor to counteract his own anomaly. Note is in line with Medical Department findings. SCP-7489: But Mikky stopped hurting. I touched a bird once and twisted my arm but it flew. Then a cat and I got this scar here then that disappeared. And our cow Coco… Dr. Milna: Are you aware most kids can't do that? SCP-7489: I think JJ and Claire can't. I don't know a lot of other kids. I see the neighbor kid sometimes but I'm not allowed to talk about the family to strangers. Dr. Milna: I'm not a stranger? SCP-7489: I know your name. You know my name. Not strangers. JJ said that names are important. Dr. Milna: Tell me about JJ, your… sibling? All of your family, actually. Tell me any story you want to. SCP-7489: Hmmm….. So our parents had Mikky, then JJ, then Claire, then me, and Serra but she died before she became a person. Coco died of sick a few weeks before that and Mikky told me she's buried with her. I mean, I didn't see it because I got sick too and sleeped too much. SCP-7489 holds up his piece of paper, having drawn four stick figures and two grassy mounds before putting the paper back to resume drawing. SCP-7489: Like this. (SCP-7489 draws a mass with limbs under the hill by scribbling in circles.) After that, mom and dad didn't really come home a lot. Mikky got more jobs to make sure we still got food and stuff, and we grew stuff and took care of the animals too so he wouldn't do that too much. JJ taught me and Claire how to cut up a chicken, but Mikky yelled at them when I almost touched Henry without gloves. Dr. Milna: Henry? SCP-7489: Hen-ry. Hen, chicken. She got old so that meant we could eat her. But Mikky got super mad because he thought if I touched her being cut up I would die too, and then Claire said I would've been smushed like that state fair hotdog if that could happen. Hotdogs are made of pigs, not dogs. That's why they're so tasty. Dr. Milna: Uh-huh. Say, when did you figure out you could do that? SCP-7489: Well- The intercom phone rings, prompting Dr. Milna to receive a radio box from the door after listening to the message to do so. The radio is placed on the table in front of SCP-7489. Dr. Milna: Agent Buck is going to radio in at any second now, uh, your Mikky, that is. SCP-7489: At work? The radio crackles and Agent Buck's voice comes in. He speaks calmly, in accordance to the anomaly interaction guidelines of the time period. Agent Buck: SCP-7489. Dr. Milna: …he means you, TJ. SCP-7489: No. It made sense when miss doctor Milna called me that but you know what I'm called and also she just called me TJ. Agent Buck: Which she shouldn't be doing because she's at work, and when someone works here, they are to refer to anomalies by their number designation. SCP-7489: What's a… oh. Agent Buck: Just how it is. SCP-7489: Why? Dr. Milna: Because there's a lot of people and things like you in here, and not everyone is a psychologist like me… who was specifically instructed to use TJ's name because I speak directly to him, Agent Buck. I suggest for this interview to go smoothly you treat this kid like a person you actually care about. Agent Buck: Assets cannot be spoken to in a familiar manner to minimize human error-based weak links in information security. SCP-7489, are you adhering to all the containment procedures laid out for you to follow? SCP-7489: Big words… Dr. Milna: Get to what you're saying before he stops complying because you can't spend two seconds being nice. Agent Buck: It was nice…humane enough that I brought the anomaly here instead of a normal hospital where more injuries could happen. Could have been neutralized from the initial injury alone. I only apologize to the Foundation for activating it and risking the integrity of the veil in the first place. SCP-7489 was distressed at this point, and Dr. Milna held SCP-7489's hand. Both were wearing appropriate PPE to prevent anomaly activation. Dr. Milna: At least pretend to remember the kid is your ten year old brother. TJ, if you want to do this interview tomorrow instead, we can. SCP-7489: No! No. Sorry. Inside voice. Mikky can't call a lot and he did today so something important is… Agent Buck: Thank you for agreeing with me. The information I want to relay to SCP-7489 is the transfer of all its personal effects from Cosby to its containment cell in Site-19 in light of a decision to put this asset in permanent containment without homecoming. Cell to be furnished to accommodate the longer stay with help from the Architecture department. There will be assured visitation from Mikell Navarro, James-Jackal "JJ" Hatcher, and Claire Hatcher within the following week. SCP-7489: But you're… Mikell. Agent Buck: I'm Agent Buck, nice to meet you. SCP-7489: …oh. I'm TJ, nice to meet you. Agent Buck: Unlike prisons, you will be given amenities with access to courtyards and inner facilities. Additional things, such as crayons, paint, paper, clothes, or toys can be requested from a provided internal cellphone. SCP-7489: What about laundry? And food. We didn't eat turkey because you had to drive me here. Agent Buck: Details will be explained to you by containment staff. Dr. Milna, have Site-19's kitchens been updated to the new pastaphysics department standards? SCP-7489: JJ made turkey for the first time since mom and you did, and then we didn't– (sob) have turkey on Serra's thanksgiving, and then when mom and dad— SCP-7489 began crying, and was soothed to the best of Dr. Milna's ability. Interview was ended in the best interest of personnel private information and ethical humanoid containment protocols. Miss doctor Milna told me to sit here. The room was bright blue and white. I’m not really used to colors like this. The bright light made me uncomfortable. The doctors were nice. They told me after this check up, they would get me some crayons. I said I felt okay. But they insisted. This journal paper is nice. I want more of this paper. There are other people here who are hurt or sick. “Why am I here again?” “You probably have a fractured fist. I have to get to work, so they’re gonna see you here.” “Whatever. I’m fine.” “You know the deal. Just- don’t cause any trouble. I’ll be back.” The woman walks away. The boy she was talking to was near my age. He came and sat next to me. His hand was bloody. “What are you looking at?” The boy asked. He sounded annoyed. “Your hand.” I reply. “You’re hurt.” "Uh yeah, doofus. That's why we're in here. What, did you hit your head?" "No. Checkup says I'm fine too." "What are you wearing, anyway? Is that an astronaut suit or what?" "I'm not allowed to touch people." "That bright yellow looks stupid." He replied. He looked… confused? "Not allowed to touch people? Why?” “I could get hurt.” I reply. “What? How? You’re not making any sense. You’re not hurt, and you’re wearing this stupid costume.” “I have to wear it.” I didn’t know what he meant by costume. But I didn’t like it, either. The way it feels against my skin makes me feel weird. The woman from earlier enters the room again. She looks at the kid who was talking to me. “I forgot to give you this.” She was holding a plastic bracelet. “Hold out your wrist.” The kid next to me held out his bloody hand with a smile on his face. “Damnit, Kenny. I mean your other wrist. Stop being difficult.” Apparently, his name was Kenny. He laughs, then holds out his other hand. The woman secured the bracelet around his wrist. “Now don’t cause any trouble. You’re not bothering this kid, are you?” “Nope. We were just talking.” He replies. The woman looked at me, and then quickly looked back at Kenny. “Oh. Kenny, be careful. You should probably leave him alone.” “What? Why? You’re gonna bring me to a hospital I’ve never heard of, and expect me to just sit nice and pretty in the corner?” “Goddamn it, Kenneth. Just listen to me.” Kenneth laughed at that. “Oooooooh, you’re bringing out my full name. You must mean business.” The woman looked angry. “I’m telling your parents about this. Just behave. And be nice to the doctors when they come to you.” She walks away. The kid turns to me with a sigh. “Sorry about her. She’s a bitch.” “What does that mean?” I ask. “I’ve never heard that word before.” He made a face. “Bitch?” I nod. “Yes.” He laughed. “Jesus, do you live under a rock? How old are you?” “I’m 10.” “I’m 12. I thought you looked younger than me. Maybe I'm the one that learned cuss words too young.” He shrugs. "You're strange." "I'm strange?" I ask. "Yeah. You're quiet. And you say touching people could hurt you." "Mm-hmm. That's also why I'm here." Kenneth kicked his feet around. My feet matched his movements before I knew it. "…My name is TJ. Nice to meet you." "It's Kenny. Or Keeenneeeeethhhhh, if you're a bitch." "Hello, Kenny. Nice to meet you." "Nerd." "What's a-" "Kenneth Hart, the doctor's in. Room 101." The nurse is pretty like JJ. Blonde like Claire. Super tall like Mikky. "Ugh. I'm fine anyway." "What did you hit, Kenny?" "Whatsit to you, Teej? Seeya." Kenny is leaving, Kenny is going. I reached out my hand, but stopped. Not supposed to touch. Not even in this. Don't make a habit. "Um, Kenny?" "Yeah?" I thought I was too quiet for him to hear me. "I have lunches in the courtyard! If you're okay by 2 o'clock come sit with me. And my brothers and sister are gonna there and-" "'Kay. If President Bitch lets me. Do you like cheese puffs?" I gasp. "I've ne-" "Never fuckin had cheese puffs? God, you really are a nerd. I'll bring lots." So mean. So nice. Are we friends? INCIDENT REPORT 7489:15/12/1995 In a scheduled family visit from SCP-7489's siblings over lunch in Site-19's courtyard, a Foundling Program child with a day-pass access interacted with SCP-7489 over a meal. When supervision laxed due to the inherent security of the area, SCP-7489 was fed a cheese puff from the Foundling's hand, who was not in PPE. Presumably, his fingers touched SCP-7489's lips, causing activation of the anomaly. Eldest sibling of SCP-7489 lost composure and pushed Foundling across the floor, causing the Foundling's guardian to equally retaliate. Both SCP-7489 and Foundling were rushed to the Medical department after the fight was broken up. For many years, I wondered what happened to Kenny. I still put cheese puffs in my turkey sandwiches to this day. Year: 2001 Item #: SCP-7489 Special Containment Procedures: Standard Humanoid Containment Cell equipped with a large drawing desk and a shelf of relevant stationery. Anomaly activates upon touch; if subject receives any visitation, research or otherwise, or if subject leaves his containment cell, all parties must be placed in Category C full coverage clothing or equivalent coverage in any Foundation-standard PPE. Description: SCP-7489 is a sixteen-year-old teenager identified as Terrence Jovial “TJ” Hatcher, with red curly hair and blue eyes. Upon skin to skin contact with a physically injured human (or any organism with features congruent to a human), any and all wounds present on the organism's body will be healed, and SCP-7489 will gain these wounds in their place. There was a library and some weekly classes. I don't think school is like that, but I got smarter anyway. My paintings got good enough to decorate the whole site with, after I met others in here that painted too. When I turned fifteen the staff let me join some bigger events. When I turned sixteen they threw me a party. Note regarding the Ethics Committee Foundling Enrichment Program After several world events and the humane consideration of the families and children of all staff and contained humanoids, children and teen-centric events are now mandatory each month in all major humanoid containment sites. What events are carried out are up to each Site Directors' jurisdiction, but there are guidelines of recommended events distributed to each Ethics office as per 09/20/2001. I met Kenny again at a cooking class. I came even though I didn't like cooking because JJ always cooked better. Kenny was more grown up and used to anomalies then. We brought our dinner to the common room after that, and he stayed over in my room after he fell asleep on my desk when he was talking about things happening outside. I used our cheeto packets from that day as the background of my biggest painting at the time. I liked the way cheeto dust felt against my skin. I don’t know why. "Kenny, were you not allowed to see me?" "Pretty much. Your brother's apparently in charge of your document whatever-stuff, so every time I put in the paper to request if I could see you, he threw it out." Unfortunately, that's definitely a Mikky thing. "So I had to catch you at one of the public Things. When I grew up and was allowed to learn what this place was, I promised I would work here when I… I…" He looked sad, so I held his hand. He pulled away for two seconds, but then put his hand back when he noticed I had gloves on. "I don't actually have college money. But Foundlings have a school and university program here, and if I work here, I can actually have a chance at a future. And, I can see you a lot more. A nerd needs another nerd for a friend, you know." "You never told me what nerd means." He makes a face. "You. still don't know?" I shake my head. He laughs. "Well, the true definition doesn't matter. Most people use the negative connotation. But I don't. He replies. "As much as I hate my bitch aunt, I have to admit, I'm glad she brought me to this place. "Why did she bring you here all those years ago?" "My parents didn't want to put up with me. And she had to get to work. So, I came here. I never would've thought at the time I'd end up studying here." "I'm glad that you're here. A lot of the doctors are cold. I'm glad to have a friend." He grins. "I've never had any friends, either. Most people either bullied me, or got scared of me because I took no bullshit. …actually, TJ, what do you even do all day?" "Well… JJ comes by more often now, but Claire stopped showing up. We had a board game set up and we continue it when he's on break. Oh, and, I play DnD with Dr. McCallum's table every other week. And I put in a request for a TV and PS2." "Siiiiiick." It took me a second to figure out it meant good sick, but, "I'm studying doctor stuff. Medicines, because I get to help people in the clinic and get pocket money for more stuff." "I want to help people, too. That’s why I plan to be a psychologist here.” Kenny replies. He raises an eyebrow. “Could you do my biology homework for me sometime?." Kenny asks. “I’m no good at that shit. It’s not my kind of science.” "Pay me in cheese puffs. Also, I've never had a uh, quote, good pudding cup. JJ says the ones in the break room and cafeteria aren't." "Rodger that, Teej.” Kenny grins. “By the time I work here, you're gonna need your own fridge." Year: 2013 They told me that I had a visitor. They said it was a staff member from another site. I was surprised when I saw him walk through the door. "Kenny?" He gives me a grin. "How are you, TJ?" I couldn't help but smile. "It's been a while." "Yeah. I started as a junior staffer a few years ago. But my superiors were afraid it would uh, stunt my research if I interviewed someone I had a history with." "Isn't that what you're doing now?" "Well, this isn't on the clock. I was finally given the okay to check on you… Wow, you painted this place yourself?" I nod. “Drawing is one thing I’ve always had an interest in. Ever since I was little.” “I recall seeing sketches on your desk back when I first started the Foundling program.” Kenny replies. “Yeah. I’ve found I really enjoy painting. It’s helped me personalize this place. I’ve spent time studying different techniques.” “That’s pretty cool. I uh, don’t have any hobbies. Not really.” “You should find a hobby. Before I started training, I didn’t really have anything else to do. So, I started to study painting.” I reply. “Now, I’ve been studying medicine. But, I still draw and paint in my free time.” "Awesome." Item #: SCP-7489 Special Containment Procedures: Anomalous Personnel Living Quarters equipped with a large drawing desk and a shelf of relevant stationery. Anomaly activates upon touch; if subject receives any visitation, research or otherwise, or if subject leaves his containment cell, all parties must be placed in Category C full coverage clothing or equivalent coverage in any Foundation-standard PPE. Description: SCP-7489 is Junior Field Agent Terrence Jovial “TJ” Hatcher. He is a man with red curly hair and blue eyes. Upon skin to skin contact with a physically injured human (or any organism with features congruent to a human), any and all wounds present on the organism's body will be healed, and SCP-7489 will gain these wounds in their place. "…hey, TJ." He said my name when I was chewing, so I did the thing JJ does when they can't talk. "Oh, you know sign?" Kenny asks. "Dr. Glass made us learn a few words in training. Speaking of…" I swallow, "Sign?" "Wait, you didn't know that that means 'wait a minute'?" He repeated the sign. "No." "Dr. Glass is deaf on his left ear, so sometimes he talks to us like that. Sign language. Speaking of, he's kind of your Guy right?" "…Dr. Glass is my psychiatrist, mm-hmm." Why is he asking? Kenny took a few minutes to ask what he wanted to ask. He cleaned up my bed cover from crumbs to look busy, but he was thinking. Thinking is also busy sometimes. "Kenny," so I said something first, "Do you want my onion rings? I'm kind of full." Which was not a lie. But I said it to fill the quiet. But also because I can't chew onions. Bad texture. "Oh, sweet. Thanks, Teej." He grins. "I actually talked to Dr. Glass a bit ago. I figured out I was autistic a while ago because I liked hanging out in the quiet room at parties because a lot of autistic people like it in there." "Oh. Huh! Uh-huh. Hmm…" Lots of meaning-y sounds from Kenny. "So I asked him how people find out they are autistic. He said I could take a test and see. And, it turns out I am." "Oh!" "But when I told JJ, they were so weirded out. Then, I saw them get mad at Dr. Glass from the courtyard balcony. I think it's because JJ told me Mikky was autistic, too, but was a bitch about it. So, I maybe think they're scared I'll be—" "You will never be a bitch." He bit down on two onion rings at once, "You don't have it in you to be one." Ew- onion bits. But, "Thanks." “I don’t think JJ has ever liked me. But, I don’t like them, if that’s how they're reacting.” "Oh, no, JJ likes that I have a consistent friend that I text and meet up with." "See? Doesn't necessarily mean they like me. Just that you have a friend. They don’t like that I don’t treat you like a baby." "…What were you gonna ask again?" "About the diagnosis, which you already gave the answer to. So… new question: how has agent school been treating you?" “It’s been okay. I sometimes feel like I don’t fit in, even when I'm helping. Even when cuts and bruises aren't a big problem anymore. Even when they don't need to put me under surveillance because I learned from Miss Veers how to self heal. I don't feel like I'm a friend." "How so?" Kenny asks. "The other agents get along with each other so well. But I have to wear the gear to prevent my properties from activating. I can feel that people stare." Kenny nods. “My advice? Just fuck what they think. You know you best, right?” I nod slowly. “Yeah.” “Once I stopped giving a shit what people think of me, life became easier.” “I see. I can try that.” Year: 2018 Item #: SCP-7489 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7489 is self-regulating and is capable of comfortably living in both Foundation Agent barracks and an Anomalous Personnel Living Quarter on his home site (Site-19). Precautions taken by SCP-7489 for his touch-activated anomaly is the deployment of Category C full coverage clothing or equivalent on the field, and gloves or other PPE in daily activities. Description: SCP-7489 is Junior Field Agent Terrence Jovial “TJ” Hatcher. He is a man with red curly hair and blue eyes. Upon skin to skin contact with a physically injured human (or any organism with features congruent to a human), any and all wounds present on the organism's body will be healed, and SCP-7489 will gain these wounds in their place. Interview Log Date: December 2, 2018 Purpose: Interview of Staffing Department in accordance to anomalous person being employed by The Foundation. Interviewer: Personnel Director Hatcher Interviewee: SCP-7489 Presiding: Dr. Kenneth Hart on scene, Internal Affairs Officer Magpie listening through call as overseer proxy. Note of context: Interview was conducted in Director Hatcher's office in Site-19, and was started amidst a casual meeting. Dir. Hatcher: -and by pressing record, we're considering this interview officially in session. SCP-7489: Okay. Dir. Hatcher: Although we know this trainee's skillset from test scores and capability on small missions so far, this interview's purpose is to document the fit-and-properness of Junior Field Agent Terrence Jovial Hatcher— Dr. Hart: (suppressed laughter) Sorry– sorry. Oh my God Teej that's your full name? SCP-7489: Just TJ or Teej to you, unless you're a bitch, Kenneth. Dr. Hart: (Dr. Hart rolls his eyes with a slight smile) Unneeded. SCP-7489: Or in this case, my… sibling? Dir. Hatcher: (also suppressing laughter) Stay on focus, you two. Dr. Hart: Sorry. It's just that it's because this really is just a formality. Look at him, he's top of his class! Dir. Hatcher: That's true. Now, let's review your file real fast so we can get this over with. Director Hatcher takes a moment to flip through the pages, and frowns at one of them. This page is SCP-7489's autism diagnosis, signed by Head of Psychology Dr. Glass. Dir. Hatcher: There are no technical qualms or problems in any of your files. However, I spoke to Dr. Glass before this interview, and have tried to understand a little about your… condition? Over the past few years. I trust you more than life itself, but I'm running through the hazards that could possibly occur in communication when you're on the field. Do you think your autism has affected your life negatively at all? SCP-7489: …as I said before this recording started— Dir. Hatcher: –which is off the record which means you can answer differently, SCP-7489: —my opinion on my autism is entirely anecdotal and does not and should never be a baseline for every autistic personnel employed ever. I am here as an agent on my own volition, because I know I can make a difference, and I know that I can use my anomaly to the best of my ability assisting our senior agents on the field. Dr. Hart: If anything fucked him up it's the isolation and that… suit… that he still has to put on. Director Hatcher suddenly gets up from the table, but they sit back down to maintain composure. Dir. Hatcher: The same suit that's been keeping him safe all these years, the one that you breached when you were twelve, and now I have to grapple with the fact that my baby brother might die out there? I mean, realistically, The Foundation won't let anyone too useful die that easily, but— Dr. Hart: TJ and I have been meeting up with no suits for over a decade now. I even added to his very fancy glove collection a birthday ago. He isn't an actual baby, Director, stop acting like that. Dir. Hatcher: Maybe if you didn't break his hand by giving him a stupid cheeto in the first place I'd consider it, ha-ha. Dr. Hart: Well maybe if he— SCP-7489: I am, in fact, in the room and can be directly spoken to. [Director Hatcher puts their face in their hands.] SCP-7489: This interview is a formality, sure, but this is on the record, and that means everything I say here matters. That's also why there's a non-speaking witness to verify everything said here and the subsequent recording. I am TJ Hatcher. I am thirty-two years old and I just finished my Junior Foundation Agent Training on top of getting a Foundling Program Associate's Degree in anomalous medicine. My field training was twofold in Field Agent responsibilities and learning battlefield emergency medicine and learning multiple arts of healing- I applied my first-semester knowledge when I was on the ground after the Containment Area 25B breach where [Details of Incident 25B have been redacted on infosec request.]. You don't get to say how horrified at the thought of me dying is when I have not only been through that horror, but also came out stronger. I am capable, I am the only one of my kind, and I am the objective best at what I do. Dir. Hatcher: Okay. I believe you. [pause] …Mikell's gonna hate this, though. There is ten seconds of silence as SCP-7489 and Dr. Hart look at each other. Dr. Hart: …I'm gonna point it out. Dir. Hatcher: What? Dr. Hart: TJ, can I point it out? SCP-7489: Yeah you can point it out. Dr. Hart: Minus Claire, this table situation is actually the same as back then, without uh. All the punching. I'm still sorry about that. This… formality meeting? You know that not every single agent, even anomalous ones, get this quote "mandatory" interview, right? SCP-7489: Magpie works in Mikky's office and this is probably on speaker. [Spacing in document changed to reflect crosstalk.] Dr. Hart: I was going to monologue! Teej! SCP-7489: Too slow. Dir. Hatcher: Oh my fucking God. [SCP-7489 retrieves a picnic basket from under the table and pulls out several parchment-wrapped sandwiches, juice boxes, and a plastic container of apple slices. The other two in the room take these items.] SCP-7489: Made these for the occasion. I'll stop the recor– Dir. Hatcher: Huh. Cheetos and tur– SCP-7489 stops the recording. Year: 2023 Item #: SCP-7489 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7489 is to live within Foundation Staff Housing Site-29. Precautions taken by SCP-7489 for his touch-activated anomaly is the deployment of Category C full coverage clothing or equivalent on the field, and gloves or other PPE in daily activities. Description: SCP-7489 refers to Foundation Medical Field Agent Laece, known personally as Terrence Jovial “TJ” Hatcher. Upon skin to skin contact with a physically injured human (or any organism with features congruent to a human), any and all wounds present on the organism's body will be healed, and SCP-7489 will gain these wounds in their place. Agent Hatcher had completed his Foundation Field Agent Training on November 1st, 2023 and is now deployed as medical staff for Site-17 and Site-19 based missions. When not on duty, Agent Hatcher assists the onsite medical department alongside Psychology Staffer Dr. Kenneth Hart and Head of Medicine Sarah Veers. It’s been a long time coming. But I can finally say I’m proud of myself, and my friends for staying by me. For believing in me. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7489" by Mew-ltiverse, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7489. 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: Handdr.png Author: Drawn by Mew-ltiverse License: CC-BY-SA wiki license Source: https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-7489/Handdr.png Filename: Childdr.png Author: Drawn by RuraScarlet License: CC-BY-SA wiki license Source: https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-7489/Childdr.png Filename: Cheetopa.png Author: Drawn by RuraScarlet License: CC-BY-SA wiki license Source: https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-7489/Cheetopa.png Filename: Selfpo.png Author: Drawn by RuraScarlet License: CC-BY-SA wiki license Source: https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-7489/Selfpo.png |
SCP-7490 | euclid | by Strange Matter Item#: SCP-7490 Level4 Containment Class: euclid Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: keneq Risk Class: danger link to memo Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7490 is to be detained within a Type-II Large Humanoid Containment Unit in Sub-Level 4 at Site-39. Scranton Reality Anchor devices have been installed in each corner of the containment chamber to regulate fluctuations of SCP-7490's property. No personnel is permitted to enter the containment chamber or the 15-meter exclusion zone that encompasses SCP-7490's area of effect. Interviews conducted with SCP-7490 are to be held with Dr. Tony Carmichael and Assistant Researcher Dr. Jessica Millar through a video conference from the secure observation room. This applies to the weekly sessions with psychologist Dr. Connor Quinn. SCP-7490 is to be provided three Grade-B meals daily. When SCP-7490 is to be brought for testing, a Scranton Reality Anchor on a flat dolly with three armed on-site guards are to transport the subject to Testing-Block 6 in Sub-Level 3. Description: SCP-7490 is a 27-year-old humanoid caucasian female, formerly known as "Agt. Felicia Mallory" who was a Tactical Response Officer stationed with Gamma-9. Originally, it was thought that SCP-7490 anomalous capabilities can cause events harmful to human life in its surrounding area. The range and severity of these events can change drastically1 and without warning. The distance of SCP-7490's anomalous properties fluctuates from a typical 5-meter radius to site-wide, perhaps greater if not cautious (See Test 7490.3 by Dr. Carmichael). The effects of SCP-7490 typically take within a 24- hour time frame and has not exceeded that. Currently, there are no feasible methods of undoing, delaying, and preventing these effects. As of 08/28/2013, SCP-7490 can cause favorable outcomes to anyone within its surrounding area (See Incidents 7490.3 in Addendum-4). SCP-7490 is not able to control the condition of said effects or the moment when they occur. SCP-7490 is also not impervious to its anomaly, regardless if it were harmful or beneficial. The condition of SCP-7490, be it physical, mental, or emotional dictates and alter its effects. Addendum-1: Inciting Incidents On 07/12/2013, Mobile Task Force Gamma-9 (“Fire Eaters”) was deployed as part of Operation Daisy Cutter2 to retrieve U.A-6203 that was in the custody of GOI-006 ("Chaos Insurgency"). During their return to Site-39 with U.A-620, they were ambushed by members of the Chaos Insurgency’s Alpha Group. An emergency S.O.S was sent out from the transport vehicle and a recovery team had been sent to that location. The recovery team noted the disappearance of U.A-620, damaged vehicles, and the deaths of all 18 Chaos Insurgency militants. Mobile Task Force Gamma-9 were either critically injured or already deceased, except for Agent Mallory, who was unconscious upon discovery and sustained a fractured left wrist. All survivors were transported to the Site-39 infirmary for treatment. On 07/13/2013, Site Director Kathleen Gray had a one-to-one meeting with Agent Mallory regarding Operation Daisy Cutter. During the meeting, Agent Mallory's head injury had given her slight memory loss. Dir. Gray recommended that Agent Mallory be temporarily off any field assignments and be assigned to recruitment duty until she has fully recovered. At 10:30 pm, Director Gray had tripped and fallen down the stairs. She sustained a blunt force head injury and had to be immediately hospitalized. Assistant Director Alyson Ortega was brought in as acting Site Director for the time of Dir. Gray's recovery. During A.D. Ortega's management, the following incidents occurred: Incidents-7490.1 Eggy Lewis: On 07/15/2013, Agent Felicia Mallory was tutoring their first intern, Eggy Lewis, for his upcoming test on Thaumaturgy. This took place in Lounge-10 in Sub-Level 1. Water leaked through the cabinet door from the sink and flowed to Eggy Lewis. Eggy Lewis got up to take a break but slipped and fell onto the floor. Agent Felicia Mallory called for help and the guards checked to see if Eggy had sustained any injuries. They discovered that his right little finger was broken and he was sent to the infirmary. Sara Taylor: On 07/19/2013, Agent Felicia Mallory and Agent Sara Taylor were escorting a row of D-Class to their cells. D-13174 had escaped his restraints and attacked Agent Sara Taylor. D-13174 took her handgun and fired on Agent Sara Taylor before being subdued by Agent Felicia Mallory. Agent Sara Taylor had sustained an injury on her right thigh and had to be sent to the infirmary. D-13174 was sent to solitary confinement for ten days while undergoing disciplinary action against on-site guards. Adrian Lorenzo: On 07/25/2013, Agent Felicia Mallory was in a middle of a training exercise on firearms with Agent Adrian Lorenzo. Agent Lorenzo's firearm had jammed. As he attempted to pull back the slide, he mistakenly aimed his weapon downwards and fired at his left foot. He was immediately sent to the infirmary. Cristian Martinez: On 8/02/2013, Agent Felicia Mallory was walking with Senior Researcher Cristian Martinez to his car, having a general chat. He drove back home at 9:15 pm when suddenly his windshield was struck by a cinder block and crushed his head. He died instantly. After these incidents, A.D. Ortega requested Agent Felicia to her office for a one-on-one meeting. Meeting from Assistant Director Alyson Ortega w/ Agent Felicia Mallory Date: 08/04/2013 Interviewer: A.D. Ortega Interviewee: Agt. Mallory <Begin Log> A.D. Ortega: Hello Felicia, take a seat. Agt. Mallory: Did I do something wrong, ma'am? A.D. Ortega: You tell me. Agt. Mallory: Sorry, I don't follow. A.D. Ortega: Are you aware of what's been happening here at Site-39? Agt. Mallory: Yes, I am. Guess it's not our week. A.D. Ortega: Hmm, you could say that. Agt. Mallory: May I ask why was I called here? A.D. Ortega: I've been reviewing these incidents. Surveillance has shown that you were both nearby the person and the last one that was with them before the incident took place. Agt. Mallory: So what, you're saying I'm responsible for all this? A.D. Ortega: These incidents happened when YOU were there, agent. Agt. Mallory: With all due respect, ma'am, but you're being ridiculous. A.D. Ortega: Am I now? How about Operation Daisy Cutter with you and what happened to Gamma-9? Some of them are hospitalized for severe injuries, while the rest are in body bags. And yet, you only walk out with just a broken arm and some memory loss. Agt. Mallory: I've had enough of this. She stood up and paces to the exit. A.D. Ortega: If you so much as touch that knob, I can, and will, punish you for insubordination. Unless you can prove me wrong. Agt. Mallory stands in place for thirteen seconds before reluctantly walking back to her chair and sitting down. Agt. Mallory: Fine. What do you want me to do? A.D. Ortega: Go to Testing-Block 6 at Sub-Level 3. There, we will conduct a small test with a couple of D-class, and if nothing happens to them, you can resume your duties. I'll be the one in charge of testing. Agt. Mallory: And if something does happen to them? A.D. Ortega: Simple. We designate you as an SCP, and we contain you. Might even do more tests to figure you out. Agt. Mallory: Permission to speak freely, ma'am? A.D. Ortega: Go ahead. Agt. Mallory: If it weren't for this uniform, I'd smack the shit out of you. A.D. Ortega: Noted. <End Log> Addendum-2: Testing w/ Inciting Incidents SUBJECT PROCEDURE RESULTS D-66960 D-66960 stepped onto the 15-meter line and wait for A.D. Ortega to order him to move forward. No effect occurred so A.D. Ortega ordered D-66960 to be five meters closer to Agt. Mallory. D-66960 suddenly gets a muscle cramp on his right harm. D-77777 D-77777 walked to the 15-meter line away from Agt. Mallory. A ceiling panel suddenly came loose and would've struck D-77777 from above if Agt. Mallory hadn’t stepped in, tackling him down. D-13174 D-13174 is to step onto the 15-meter line and wait for A.D. Ortega's orders for him to move forward. D-13174 had made repeated inappropriate comments to Agt. Mallory. The two conversed about the incident with Agt. Taylor, and who was to blame. No noticeable effect occurred. D-13174 was sent back to his cell block. Following a visit to the medical bay, A.D. Ortega was sent home on sick leave. She emailed all her senior staff that she will be taking a week off. After the week, she returned with a report that she had Stage 1 Stomach Cancer. A.D. Ortega assigned Dr. Carmichael and Assistant Researcher Millar to conduct the tests and the interviews. A.D. Ortega has informed them that the interviews will be conducted via video conferences and that Head Researcher Dr. Carmichael and Assistant Researcher Dr. Millar are to be in a control room to view the tests of Agent Felicia Mallory. Incident's 7490.2 D-13174: On 08/11/2013, at 7:15 pm, during dinner. D-13174 was stabbed by D-44786 using a makeshift weapon with a 21/2 inch nail and a toothbrush tied by four rubber bands five times on his back. On-site guards were able to separate the two and place them in solitary confinement in their respective cells. D-13174 had sustained a critical injury on his right lung, as it was punctured. He expired due to internal bleeding two hours later. Johnny Walker: On 08/13/2013, Fans in Lounge-3 of Sub-level-1 malfunctioned, Agent Felicia Mallory requested technician Johnny Walker for repairs. Eleven minutes later, the fans suddenly returned to function while Johnny Walker was still in the air ventilation. Three of his fingers were sliced off from his right hand and was immediately sent to the infirmary. Elevator-5: On 08/14/2013, Agent Felicia Mallory, Dr. Houston Morgan, Jr. Researcher Lucy Ophelia, and Dr. Derek Oliver all took an elevator going up to Level 1. The elevator malfunctioned and stopped between Sub-Level 1 and Sub-level 2. They used the emergency call to request aid and waited for an hour and fifteen minutes. The emergency response teams finally opened the doors and helped them out of the elevator. Cafeteria-A: On 08/17/2013 at 6:00 pm, seven personnel had been struck by a virus via food poisoning. The last they have eaten was in Cafeteria-A during lunch. All contaminated food was thrown away and personnel was treated immediately. The list of individual personnel is as follows: - Doctor Jean Parker - Secretary Jordyn Pierce - Doctor Jhayden Burnard - Senior Researcher Antonio Chavez - Doctor Mellisa Payan - Agent Reiki Samuke - Agent Felicia Mallory To: Assistant Director Alyson Ortega From: Dr. Allen Willis Subject: Regarding Recent Incidents What the Hell is going on in this site? Every day, I see people getting hurt or sick and it just gets worse. Somebody needs to get their act together and pay for their negligence or we got an uncontained anomaly on us. Either way, you need to FIX THIS! Because this is unacceptable. -Head Dr. Allen Willis of Med-3 To: Dr. Allen Willis From: Assistant Director Alyson Ortega Subject: Re: Regarding Recent Incidents Dr. Willis, I understand your frustration, I do. Thankfully, I know how to handle this. I apologize for all the inconvenience and will take full responsibility. -Assistant Director Alyson Ortega With the growing number of incidents surrounding Agent Felicia Mallory, A.D. Ortega had officially designated the subject as SCP-7490 after its recovery from food poisoning. SCP-7490 had been immediately contained in the hopes of preventing further incidents. Addendum-3: SCP-7490 Interviews + Testing Interview-7490.1 Date: 08/19/2013 Interviewer: Head Researcher Dr. Tony Carmichael and Assistant Researcher Dr. Jessica Millar Interviewee: SCP-7490 <Begin Log> Dr. Carmichael: Hello, 7490. I’m Dr. Carmichael. This here is my assistant, Dr. Millar. Dr. Millar: Hello there. SCP-7490: Hi. Dr. Carmichael: I took a good look at your file before we started. Served for six years, and became a first-class Sergeant—all good stuff and all but nothing much beforehand. So, I'm hoping that maybe you could tell me something that these papers are not. SCP-7490: Anything you're looking for in particular? Dr. Carmichael: Perhaps anything you could recall regarding your anomaly? Childhood, teens? Where and when it started? SCP-7490: Okay? SCP-7490 stays silent for a couple of seconds. SCP-7490: Broke my arm at the monkey bars when I was nine? Lost my phone- I don't know, a lot of stuff happened. Dr. Millar: How about we start from the beginning? Whenever that may be for you. SCP-7490: Mm, where to start… Well, my dad was a construction worker. We weren't struggling, but the house was pretty small and plain. Dr. Carmichael: And your mother? SCP-7490: I don't know my mother. Dr. Carmichael: You don't? SCP-7490: Nope. She was just gone. Leaving my dad to do the heavy lifting in parenting. Dr. Carmichael: Mm. SCP-7490: And he was… God, I couldn't stand him. Prick. Dr. Millar: Assuming it wasn't easy. SCP-7490: That's putting it lightly. The guy was a short-fused bomb. And it was for the dumbest things most of the time. Yeah, as a kid, I did lots of stupid things, sure. But even when I hit twelve and started to be more aware, he still found ways to get pissed at me. Like, get yourself a freaking therapist, goddamn. Dr. Carmichael: Couldn't be me. SCP-7490: Oh my God, and even when he had that accident with the leg, he put it all on me! Motherfucker I didn't cut it off, I didn't make you go unemployed! And you know what, it should've- (clears throat)… I'm sorry. I need a moment. Dr. Carmichael: Take all the time you need. We're not going anywhere. SCP-7490 left its seat and paced its containment chamber for a minute and ten seconds before sitting back down in front of the conference. SCP-7490: I'm good now. Dr. Millar: How about we move on? Did anything happen during your adolescence? SCP-7490: I stopped being afraid of him when I found out he was all bark but no bite. Even before the accident. God, the things we've said… Let's just say you guys are lucky you're not my neighbors. Dr. Millar: Jesus. SCP-7490: Yeah, I could really use him by now. (SCP-7490 slightly slides down from its seat) Just realized I vented but said nothing about the anomaly. I'm sorry if I wasted your time. Dr. Carmichael: Don't worry about it. At least you got it out of your chest. SCP-7490: It's hard to recall anything when most of it isn't fondly. Dr. Carmichael: Understandable. Perhaps you could tell us why you joined the army? SCP-7490: College wasn't much of an option. But I wanted a good enough amount of money just to get me out of my dad's. Good thing I did lots of sports prior, am I right? And the rest became history. Been here for three years and finally, I got myself here. Woop-de-doo for me. SCP-7490 sighs. SCP-7490: And you know what, I get it. But still… You know I don't mean to do this, right? The incidents. Dr. Carmichael: We do. That's why we're here. SCP-7490: Do they know though? Dr. Carmichaelr: That shouldn't be your concern right now. SCP-7490: I think it should. They don't deserve what happened to them. Dr. Millar: If you'd like, we can let them know that it wasn't your intention. SCP-7490: That'll be nice. It wasn't my fault. It wasn't. Dr. Millar: We know. SCP-7490: Yeah, just wanna make sure. Dr. Carmichael: I think we can end it here for today. Dr. Millar: Agreed. Dr. Carmichael: Alright then. We'll see you again tomorrow. Sound good? SCP-7490: Yeah. Sounds good. Again, sorry I didn't provide much. Dr. Carmichael: It's alright. You take care now. <End Log> Interview-7490.2 Date: 08/20/2013 Interviewer: Head Researcher Dr. Tony Carmichael and Assistant Researcher Dr. Jessica Millar Interviewee: SCP-7490 <Begin Log> Dr. Carmichael: Hello again, 7490. SCP-7490: Hey doctor. Dr. Carmichael: How are we feeling today? SCP-7490: I've been thinking. Dr. Carmichael: About? SCP-7490: A lot of things, but, mostly on what D-13174 said. Dr. Carmichael: And what did he say? I wasn't there for the first tests after all. SCP-7490: He said, "What if you're the reason I got out my cuffs, and got her shot." Dr. Millar: Her as in Agent Taylor? SCP-7490 nods SCP-7490: He also said, "Probably like how something is gonna happen to me. All because I'm here with you." Dr. Millar: I wouldn't let it get to you. What does he know that we don't? SCP-7490: I don't know. It's just-… Like, how many incidents are there? Dr. Carmichael: I agree with Dr. Millar. This shouldn't concern you as of now. SCP-7490: Why not? I'm here because bad things happen to people when I'm around, right? Look, I just want to know how bad is it. Pause. Dr. Carmichael: Well… Two directors were sent to the hospital. Three on-site agents. All six other members of Gamma-9. Two D-class. And Eleven other staff. Twenty-four personnel in those thirteen incidents. SCP-7490: … That's a lot. Dr. Millar: It is. SCP-7490 sits in silence. SCP-7490: He might've been right. Dr. Carmichael: Were you controlling those events? SCP-7490: I don't think so, no. Dr. Carmichael: So you never intended any of those incidents to occur? SCP-7490: No sir. Dr. Carmichael: Then that's that. It wasn't you. It's this thing you have. SCP-7490: Yeah… Yeah, you're right. Dr. Carmichael: We'll figure it out. The three of us. SCP-7490 chuckles. Dr. Carmichael: Something I said? SCP-7490: Kinda funny you care. Dr. Carmichael: Life's too short to be stone-cold serious. Doesn't hurt to be a little hopeful. SCP-7490: I guess. Dr. Millar clears her throat. Dr. Carmichael: Oh yes! I wanted to ask you about your services. Maybe something occurred during that time? SCP-7490: Ummm. That's not… an easy thing to talk about. Not right now at least. Dr. Carmichael: Oh, my apoligies! I didn't mean to overstep. SCP-7490: You're fine. (exhale) Hoo-wee, you going just to know my whole life story? Dr. Millar: We just want to understand, is all. SCP-7490: Yeah. I do too. Dr. Carmichael: Maybe it's too soon for another interview. That was my mistake. We'll let you be, 7490. SCP-7490: Again, you're fine. Dr. Carmichael: Until next time? SCP-7490: Yeah, definitely. Dr. Carmichael: Good. And also, I meant what I said. We will figure this out. It's our job too. SCP-7490: I'm sure you will, Doctor. Dr. Carmichael: Take care. SCP-7490: You too. <End Log> On 08/21/2013, Agent Taylor requested a video call to SCP-7490, to which it was approved. Agent Taylor was allotted five minutes for the call. Call-7490.1 Date: 08/21/2013 Caller: Agt. Sara Taylor Reciever: SCP-7490 <Begin Log> Agt. Taylor: Hey, what's up? SCP-7490: Not much. Just got a workout in. How's the leg? Agt. Taylor: Got another twelve or so days, though it sucks to walk. SCP-7490: Yeah, I bet. Agt. Taylor: So, what's it like? Being in there and all. SCP-7490: Reminds me a lot of my old home. Just quieter, which is the only upside to it. Agt. Taylor: Mmm. SCP-7490: Did you hear what happened? To D-13174, I mean. Agt. Taylor: Asshole who shot me? Yeah, what about him? SCP-7490: Before he died, he said that maybe I was the one that got you shot. Agt. Taylor: You're really going to be listening to what that guy has to say? SCP-7490 remains silent. Agt. Taylor: Are you kidding me?! SCP-7490: I mean, what if he'd had a point? If I hadn't been there, you would've been fine. Agt. Taylor: But I AM fine, Fel-… Look, in a couple of weeks, your girl will be sprinting. I'll do a backflip and send you a video of me doing it. Sound good? SCP-7490: (Chuckles) Yeah, sounds good. Agt. Taylor: Thatta girl. SCP-7490: By the way, Sara. I got a couple of questions. Agt. Taylor: Sure, what's on your mind? SCP-7490: How's Gamma-9 doing? Agt. Taylor: Oh, you know. SCP-7490: No, I don't. Agt. Taylor: Never visited? SCP-7490: I- I didn’t want to bother them. Heh, like, imagine me constantly going “are you okay, are you okay!” They’d probably get sick of me. Agt. Taylor: No, I don’t think so. SCP-7490: Well, it’s not like I can do that now. But it’s fine. As long as they’re all okay. Agt. Taylor: Right. Agt. Taylor her eyes away from the camera. SCP-7490: You good? You seem tense. Is it the leg? Agt. Taylor: No, no. It’s not the leg. SCP-7490: Then what is it? Agt. Taylor sighs. She still does not make eye contact with SCP-7490. SCP-7490: Spit it out, Sara. Agt. Taylor: I don't think- SCP-7490: What? What happened? Agt. Taylor: Before I tell you, just, be ready. SCP-7490 sits in silence. Agt. Taylor: They’re all dead. Silence Agt. Taylor: They lost too much blood. Or they couldn't get all the bullet pieces out. There was nothing they could do anymore. I'm sorry. SCP-7490 starts to scratch its forearm. SCP-7490: Um, who-who else knows about this? Agt. Taylor: Everyone on site. SCP-7490: Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck. Agt. Taylor: Are you okay? SCP-7490 covers its mouth and leans forward out of frame. Its breathing becomes shakier. Agt. Taylor: Hey… SCP-7490: Oh my god… I-mm-I did this… I killed- Agt. Taylor: No, no, no, That's not true. It was the Insurgency, okay? SCP-7490: Stop talking! Just- leave me alone… Silence. Agt. Taylor: Okay. Agt Taylor ends the video call. <End Log> On 08/22/2013 at 4:13 am, SCP-7490 had recently been observed to have trouble sleeping and would often sit against the wall. SCP-7490 went to the sink and turned on the faucet though no water had come out. When examining the sink, SCP-7490 slid its fingertips on the side of the mirror, making them bleed. SCP-7490 punched the mirror out of frustration and covered its bleeding fingers with a towel. Twenty minutes later, SCP-7490 had fallen back to sleep. It had undergone somniloquy4 , vocalizing the name "Tommy". The following morning, SCP-7490 requested treatment for its hand. A first-aid kid was delivered to SCP-7490's chamber via RC automobile OCTAVIA. Interview-7490.3 Date: 08/22/2013 Interviewer: Dr. Tony Carmichael and Assistant Researcher Dr. Jessica Millar Interviewee: SCP-7490 <Begin Log> Dr. Carmichael: Hello, 7490. How's your hand? SCP-7490: Stings when I move it, but, eh. Dr. Carmichael: Wished we could've gotten you a real medic. SCP-7490: Don't worry about it. Pause. SCP-7490: So, is there anything you wanna know? Dr. Carmichael: Mm, how can we say this without being blunt…? Dr. Millar: Last night, you were talking in your sleep. SCP-7490: Oh. Haha, that's a first. What did I say? Dr. Millar: "Tommy." Pause. Dr. Millar: So who's this Tommy? SCP-7490: He was… the sweetest guy in the whole world. He always had my back and made sure I was okay. Sometimes he'll let me sleep over at his house cuz' it was a hell of a lot better than staying at my dad's. Pauses SCP-7490: God damn. It just doesn't stop does it? Dr. Carmichael: What doesn't stop? SCP-7490: This… Me. It's like I'm a black cat. Pauses Dr. Carmichael: You think you're cursed? SCP-7490: Not think. Am. Everyone gets hurt or killed because of me. Dr. Carmichael: We've already said that you never intended on that. SCP-7490: Tell that to Tommy and the gang. Dr. Millar: Well, what happened? SCP-7490 adjusts itself on its seat. SCP-7490: One time, he invited me to another friend of his who just so happened to have a car. We hung outside for a while until this giant storm poured down on us. We drove back home, and could barely see anything with all the rain. I don't know what he saw but it made him swerve. We crashed the barricade of the bridge and were sinking into the river. The water was filling up fast, and we couldn't push the doors open. I was able to unbuckle myself and try to roll down my window. More water rushed in and next thing you know, the car was full. His friend got the seatbelt off but his foot got stuck, and Tommy's was jammed. Pauses SCP-7490: I tried… I tried to get them out but I didn't have any air left. I thought I could rescue them if I could swim up and back down. When I got a good breath in and swam back down, I couldn't find the car. Everything was so dark and blurry. I tried to go deeper but I ran out of air again. And I just kept repeating this, over and over again, hoping that maybe I could find the car, or that they made it out. Then I just stopped… I got out of the river and walked while the rain was still going. I got to some high ground and a local church brought me inside. I told them about the car but they said I needed to wait until the storm cleared. I begged them to go look for them, but I already knew. Pauses SCP-7490: When the storm passed and we were recovering, they ended up finding the car. They were still inside. Tommy… He probably thought his best friend left him… She did… She most certainly did. Silence for twelve seconds. SCP-7490: You two probably think I'm a bad person. Just say it. Dr. Carmichael: It was in the heat of the moment. You were panicking. SCP-7490 shakes its head. SCP-7490: No, I knew what I was doing. Silence for twelve seconds. Dr. Carmichael: We'll be conducting another test soon. Like the last test, it'll be unbiased. My hope is that maybe there's a certain distance it can reach, even with the fluctuations. SCP-7490: Should we? Dr. Carmichael: Yes. There's a logical explanation for everything. Including this here. And it's my job to find out what that is. SCP-7490remains silent. Dr. Carmichael: Why are you hesitating? SCP-7490: What if something goes wrong? Dr. Carmichael: Something always goes wrong, I'll admit. Even so, we learn from it and keep going. It's just how we work. SCP-7490: You really want to help? Dr. Carmichael: It's our duty too. SCP-7490: But why do you want to? Dr. Carmichael: I got my reasons. So, are you up for it? SCP-7490: Sure, I'll do your test. Dr. Carmichael: That's good. We'll see you then, 7490. Take care. <End Log> From: A.D. Ortega To: Dr. Carmichael Subject: Concerns Dr. Carmichael, You seem very motivated to help SCP-7490. Should I be concerned that you're growing a fondness for it? -Assistant Director Alyson Ortega From: Dr. Carmichael To: A.D. Ortega Subject: Re: Concerns A.D. Ortega, In these last fifteen years of being a researcher, I've never had a "fondness" for the skips. But there is a problem I should've noticed. The humanoid SCPs I was in charge of had either attempted or successfully committed suicide. And it's not just me, many other doctors have had this experience. The humanoids are confused when they first activate their anomalies, and we simply leave them in cages. It is not pleasant, knowing that you were responsible for their deaths and that you could've prevented them. It also doesn't take a member of The Ethics Committee or even a psychologist here to see how wrong that is. Yes, I will do as you assigned me to do. But I am trying to not repeat my mistakes. We need to be more responsible. Plain and simple. -Dr. Carmichael SUBJECT PROCEDURE RESULTS D-57934 D-57934 is to step onto the 15-meter line and wait for Dr. Carmichael to order him to move forward. When nothing occurred, Dr. Carmichael ordered D-57934 to be five meters closer to SCP-7490. Nothing had still occurred, so D-57934 was ordered to stand half a meter from SCP-7490 D-57934 was granted permission to leave the cell after no sign of anomalous affection. Suddenly, D-57934's nose bled, and passed out before leaving Testing-Block 6. Two on-site medical staff had taken D-57934. D-57934 had expired. D-77777 & D-66960 D-77777 and D-66960 were both in the testing block for multiple affected testing. Before the test began, the power to Site-39 had shut down, turning on the emergency backup power. An emergency lockdown occurred, trapping both the D-class and SCP-7490. D-66960 panicked and attempted to exit Testing-Block 6 with force, but D-77777 attempted to hold him back. The two D-class got into a fistfight while Dr. Carmichael ordered them to stop and wait for help. Ten minutes after the lockdown, on-site technicians were able to open the exit of Testing-Block 6. On-site guards escorted the two D-class to their respective cells, while another group of on-site guards readied an SRA for SCP-7490, returning it to containment. Five hours later, Site-39's power returned. Interview-7490.4 Date: 08/23/2013 Interviewer: Dr. Tony Carmichael and Assistant Researcher Dr. Jessica Millar Interviewee: SCP-7490 Dr. Carmichael: Hi, 7490. Yesterday was a mess, and I apologize. But I'm preparing for another test soon. This time, we'll be- SCP-7490: I don't think we're ever going to find anything with these tests. Dr. Carmichael: We can try though. As I said, there's a logical explanation for everything. SCP-7490: Not for this. Res. Millar: We know it's been hard for you. We do. But this could be your chance to get your life back. SCP-7490 I got no chance at that. Not anymore. Dr. Carmichael: Well, I don't believe in chances. SCP-7490: How did the lockdown happen then? Dr. Carmichael: A thunderstorm. A transformer got hit by lighting. SCP-7490: See. Dr. Carmichael: That doesn't mean anything. Just an inconvenience. SCP-7490 points at itself. Dr. Carmichael: Well, maybe it was just bad timing. SCP-7490: Yeah, a lot of it is "bad timing". Dr. Carmichael: We've been fine so far. SCP-7490: Because you're not here. Not that it matters, since someone else is gonna be affected. Dr. Carmichael: SCP-7490, that's enough. If we just have some time- SCP-7490: No. No more waiting. No more tests. I'm done with this. I don't want to hurt people anymore. Res. Millar: That's very thoughtful of you. Noble even. But don't you at least want to try? SCP-7490: I'm telling you that there's no point to it. Even if you did find out what it was, I doubt you'd take it out. Your best bet is to just keep me in here. Silence. SCP-7490: I'm thankful to you guys for trying to help. But there's not much you can do now. I don't make things worse. Dr. Carmichael: We haven't even scratched the surface. And now you want us to give up? Res. Millar: Tony. Dr. Carmichael: No, Jessica! I have to do this, I have to make this right! I just need to try. SCP-7490: And what if it isn't enough? Dr. Carmichael: If you believe that your anomaly is as dangerous as you say it is, then that's every reason why we need to keep going. You want to spend the rest of your days in a cell, wondering if perhaps there was a way to solve this? SCP-7490: I don't want to risk it. Dr. Carmichael: Neither do I, 7490. Pauses Dr. Carmichael: Please. I need to do this. SCP-7490: You did enough. Silence for nine seconds. SCP-7490 slides down on their chair and gazes at the ceiling. SCP-7490: The last thing my dad told me was, "it should've been you". I said the same thing back… I bet the neighbors were celebrating because we'd never said a word to each other after that. Not even a whisper before I left. Dr. Millar: What would you say, if you had the chance? SCP-7490: I'm sorry. To my dad and my mom… To everyone. <End Log> Addendum-4: Conclusion Interview-7490.5 Date: 08/24/2013 Interviewer: Assistant Researcher Dr. Jessica Millar Interviewee: SCP-7490 <Begin Log> Dr. Millar: Hi SCP-7490 SCP-7490: Hey. Carmichael's not with you? Dr. Millar: He's in his office. Still trying to figure out your anomaly. SCP-7490: Are you- (Groans) What's up with him!? Dr. Millar: Hm, you two are a lot alike. SCP-7490: How? Dr. Millar: Well for starters, you both think you’re responsible for other people's well-being. So you both are trying to do what you think is best for them. Think that's all we can do. SCP-7490: And you? What brings you here? Dr. Millar: Just checking up on you. SCP-7490: Well. You checked. Dr. Millar: You got no filter, do you? SCP-7490: Sorry. Dr. Millar: Apologize a lot too. SCP-7490: What's your point? Dr. Millar: This anomaly is not kind. That doesn't mean you're that too. SCP-7490: Mmm. Dr. Millar: I'm serious. Thing is, this whole time, you've never been kind to yourself. All the things people said and done to you, you carry that. Alone. SCP-7490: Maybe because I deserve it. Dr. Millar: Do you though? Or do you want to feel like you do? SCP-7490 remains silent. Dr. Millar: You've got horrible luck. But what happened to you when you were young wasn't your fault. Neither was Gamma-9 or these last two months. Silence Dr. Millar: This anomaly does not define you. Nothing does, except you. And I know damn well that you are a lot of things. Question is, do you know? Silence Dr. Millar: That's all I wanted to say. SCP-7490: Hold on. Dr. Millar: Yes? SCP-7490: How are they? Jake and Tommy? Dr. Millar: The two D-class? They're fine. SCP-7490: Honest to God they're fine? Dr. Millar:They are. D-66960's arm pain had finally gone away. SCP-7490: That's good. That's really good. Dr. Millar: Yeah… Come to think of it, neither of them was that affected when they were with you. You would think that with the storm, your anomaly would also work on them, but it just locked the door. SCP-7490: Maybe they got lucky. Dr. Millar: Maybe… Or perhaps… I know you already said no more tests, but- SCP-7490: I stand by that. Dr. Millar: I understand that, but I think that there might be something about you and your anomaly that we've missed. Maybe there is a way to control it. SCP-7490: Tony's optimism is starting to rub off on you. Dr. Millar: Hear me out. I had a theory going on in my head with the D-13174. Maybe it works similarly with these other two. SCP-7490: Well what's the theory? Dr. Millar: It’s rough, but I believe your anomaly is somehow tied to your state of mind. If you think negatively, bad things will happen. But if you think positively, then good things will happen. SCP-7490:Yeah… I don't know. Dr. Millar: If anything goes wrong. I will take full responsibility. SCP-7490: But what if it doesn't work? Dr. Millar: Only one way to find out. SCP-7490: I don't know. Dr. Millar: I can assure you, everything will be fine. Trust me. SCP-7490: I do. I still think you shouldn’t do it. Dr. Millar: And what if God forbid those SRA’s shut down? Or a containment breach? Are you just gonna sit there and let it all happen? SCP-7490: I don’t want any of that to happen. Dr. Millar: It might. Sure we could stop it from getting worst but who’s to say? If anything, we should be able to prevent breaches. And if this test could serve that, what’s stopping you? SCP-7490: It’s a theory. Dr. Millar: One that can probably save a lot of people. You want to help people so badly, this is how. Otherwise, we’re just gonna have to wait until that breach comes. Silence. SCP-7490: What time? Dr. Millar: Tomorrow at 11:30 am. Thank you, 7490. SCP-7490: You better be right. <End Log> SUBJECT PROCEDURE RESULTS D-77777 & D-66960 SCP-7490 were to stand in between D-66960 and D-77777 while two guards were to throw tennis balls at them. Before continuing the procedure, Dr. Millar encouraged SCP-7490 that it will keep them safe. After about forty seconds of prep time, the guards threw the tennis balls full force. Every ball the guards threw missed the three subjects until they ran out. Dr. Jessica Millar Dr. Millar was to be shot in the head by one or two guards. Once again, Dr. Millar had to encourage SCP-7490 that it will keep her safe. SCP-7490 was hesitant but Dr. Millar was able to persuade the subject and had another forty seconds of prep time. SCP-7490 was ready and both the guards aimed their handguns and attempted to fire, however, their weapons were jammed. Dr. Millar ordered the guards to continue while having the D-class throw the tennis balls at her. To which they all missed. After twenty seconds, Dr. Millar called off the test. From: A.D. Ortega To: Dr. Carmichael Subject: Regarding the final test I saw the final test. Did Millar honestly believe that SCP-7490 could have jammed that guard's weapon? Let alone two? What she did could’ve gotten herself killed. -Assistant Director Alyson Ortega From: Dr. Carmichael To: A.D. Ortega Subject: Re: Regarding the final test It was 50/50, to be frank. She told the guards and me her plan before we got to testing, which was that the weapons would have blank rounds in their magazines. So in case, the guards were successful at pulling the triggers, Millar would’ve been fine either way. Regardless, Researcher Millar's theory was correct. -Dr. Tony Carmichael SCP-7490 finally accepted weekly sessions with Dr. Connor Quinn for psychological evaluation for a whole month. Since then, the effects of SCP-7490 caused the following incidents: Incidents 7490.3 Kathleen Gray: On 08/28/2013, Director Kathleen Gray made a full recovery with no repercussions and has returned to her position within Site-39. Since her return, Site-39 has also returned to being systemic with next to no incidents regarding injury, illness, or death. Alyson Ortega: On 08/30/2013, Assistant Director Alyson Ortega was able to make an appointment with her doctors to remove her stomach cancer before it reached Stage 2. After two weeks, she made a full recovery and returned to her position. Sara Taylor: On 09/01/2013, Agent Sara Taylor had fully recovered from her injury, as well as been promoted to Senior Security Officer. Franki Costello: On 01/17/2014, Junior Researcher Franki Costello won the Powerball, gaining $500,000. Edward Russo: On 06/05/2014, Doctor Edward Russo had a call from his wife, stating that his daughter had finally been accepted to The David Eccles School of Business in Salt Lake City, Utah. They will be starting next year. Xavier M'Queen: On 11/11/2014, After having a one-on-one interview with O5-3, as well as an extensive review of his record, Agent Xavier M'Queen had been selected to be O5-3's personal bodyguard. Once he completes his six months of training, he will have access to any secret intel of The Foundation archives and will be transferred to Site-01. Notice from Director Kathleen Gray of Site-39 As you all know, a lot of favorable things have happened in these last few weeks, all due to SCP-7490. However, we must remember that it is only because of its state of mind and not because it wills it so. Because of that, SCP-7490 can either make Site-39 fall or continue to keep it standing. For the sake of our stability, we will continue with its containment along with these sessions. Please schedule a one-on-one meeting with me if anyone has any concerns or suggestions regarding its containment. I have also heard rumors that SCP-7490 will be used to develop Site-39's prominence. I am here to disclose that we will do no such thing. Not only will we be painting a target on our backs, but the notion of utilizing an SCP that thinks and feels like us is unethical. I will no longer hear such nonsense going forward. Other than that, we will see what SCP-7490 has in store for us in the future. In the meantime, be cautious and treat SCP-7490 with the utmost sensitivity. SCP-7490 was, and still is, one of us. And so, SCP-7490 is our responsibility. We will Secure. We will Contain. We will Protect. Good luck to all. And stay safe. Footnotes 1. Ranging from minor malfunctions within paraphernalia to tragic events. 2. Operation Daisy Cutter was a mission to search and destroy nearby active Chaos Insurgency checkpoints. As well as recover any intel regarding the GOI and any anomalous objects/entities they may have had at their disposal. 3. Undesignated Anomaly. 4. Sleep Talking ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7490" by Strange Matter, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7490. 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-7491 | safe | close Info X SCP-7491: Questioning Thought Author: Jexify Behold! My first SCP. It's pretty neat, I hope. Access SCiPNET Email? Three (3) unread messages! First unread message: To: You 2034/02/05 12:00 From: Automatic System Message ([email protected]) Subject: REQUIRED ANSWER - Decommissioning Proposal Decommissioning Proposal 7491-02/05 Designation: SCP-7491 Department of Jurisdiction: Noöspherics Division Reason for Decommissioning: Ethical Concerns Submitted By: Dr. A. Leverre ([email protected]) Relevant Files (Attached Below): SCP-7491, SCP-7491 Addendums 1 and 3 As a member of the Decommissioning Department, your goal is to assess and determine whether the concern raised by the researcher qualifies, to adequate standards, the destruction of the anomaly. You are to be reminded that the Foundation's primary goal is to Secure, Contain, and Protect, and decommissioning is only to be used in cases where it is necessary by logistical or ethical standards. Item#: SCP-7491 Level2 Containment Class: safe Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7491 is currently deactivated and contained in a low-priority storage locker at Research Area-57. Experimentation on SCP-7491 must be approved by at least one member of the Noöspherics Division. Description: SCP-7491 is the former security card of Dr. Arielle Leverre, senior researcher of the Noöspherics Division. SCP-7491 lacks any physical anomalous properties, and is marked anomalous by the properties of its noöspheric ideosignature..Ideosignature: (n.) The collection of ideas that make up any object. (i.e., an object's noöspheric footprint) SCP-7491's ideosignature is active. An active ideosignature indicates one which has the ability to interact with elements of other ideosignatures by expelling mentergy.Mentergy: (n.) The noöspheric equivalent to energy, measured in Duvalls (δ). What allows for ideosignatures to interact amongst each other. Believed to be generated by brain activity. and transferring it between both elements. To simplify, SCP-7491 is capable of thought. Tests meant to determine SCP-7491's intelligence level are ongoing. Addendum 7491/I: Discovery - Incident ████/7491-01 DATE: 2034/01/31 PERSONNEL PRESENT: Dr. Arielle Leverre Dr. Idi Omondi FOREWORD: SCP-7491 was first discovered during standard preparation of the prototype NMED.The Noöspheric Measuring and Experimentation Device, informally called "Ned" by noöspheric personnel, is a first-of-its-kind device allowing for the evaluating of ideosignatures, their components, and the mentergy transfers that take place between them, all at the same time. Further information is classified Level 4/████ Clearance.. SCP-7491 accidentally kept the machine open without any staff noticing during an active test. This resulted in mentergy leaking into the local environment. <Dr. Omondi stands behind the NMED, watching the controls. Dr. Leverre stands beside the device's opening with a sheet of paper in hand.> Dr. Omondi: Alright, put the thing in, and lets get rolling. <Dr. Leverre places the sheet of paper inside the opening of the NMED, and shuts it. As she closes the opening, her security card falls out of her lab coat pocket and into the machine, propping the opening ajar. She fails to notice this, and begins to walk towards Dr. Omondi.> Dr. Leverre: Ready. Dr. Omondi: Ready. <The NMED activates, pulsing blue light outwards as its main turbine activates. A reading on the machine shows a negative mentergy output, and an error in the main processing compartment. A large column of blue light shoots out from the device and shines onto Dr. Leverre. She does not react. Dr. Omondi rushes to turn the NMED off.> Dr. Omondi: Well… that's not great. Dr. Leverre: <sarcastically.> Oh, really? Dr. Omondi: Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's not supposed to happen. Dr. Leverre: Just turn the damn thing off, I'll go take a look. Dr. Omondi: <jokingly saluting.> Yes, Ma'am. <Dr. Omondi powers down the NMED as Dr. Leverre walks back to the main access area. She opens the hatch, revealing her security card.> Dr. Leverre: <under her breath> How in the— <louder> My security card got in the machine. Dr. Omondi: I don't think Ned needs level 4 clearance. <A pause as Dr. Leverre stares at Dr. Omondi.> Dr. Omondi: Tough crowd. <Dr. Leverre retrieves her security card and closes the NMED.> Dr. Leverre: It should be good now. Ready. Dr. Omondi: Read- Wait, huh? <Dr. Omondi inspects the NMED's record of the previous activation.> Dr. Leverre: What? Dr. Omondi: According to Ned, there was something actively thinking, in the hatch, during the last run. Dr. Leverre: That is… <Dr. Leverre opens the NMED again and removes the sheet of paper, placing her security card inside.> Dr. Leverre: Ready. Dr. Omondi: …Ready. <Dr. Omondi activates the NMED, which records positive mentergy levels, and an Active Ideosignature within.> Dr. Omondi: Seems we've got ourselves a new study tool, huh? END ADDENDUM Addendum 7491/III: Relevant Experimentation Logs Experiment ████-143 DATE: 2034/01/31 SUPERVISOR: Dr. I. Omondi INTENT: To test the efficacy of the NMED, as well as whether SCP-7491 is unique to itself. PROCEDURE: Insert the card of Dr. Omondi into the NMED and record the results. OBSERVATIONS: No recorded noöspheric activity. NOTES: Welp, at least now we know it is an anomaly. -Dr. Omondi Experiment 7491-01 DATE: 2034/02/01 SUPERVISOR: Dr. A. Leverre INTENT: Understand more about SCP-7491's thought processes. PROCEDURE: Insert SCP-7491 into the NMED and record the results. OBSERVATIONS: NMED Readings 2034/02/01 HELLO QUESTION GONE WHERE MYSELF HELP DARK BLACK GONE BLACK HELP NOTES: It seems SCP-7491 is neither aware of its current situation, nor favorable of it. -Dr. Leverre Experiment 7491-02 DATE: 2034/02/01 SUPERVISOR: Dr. I. Omondi INTENT: Determine the level of SCP-7491's mentergy output. PROCEDURE: Record SCP-7491's mentergy outputs at different times throughout the day using an DMC..A Duvall Mentergy Counter is used to measure raw mentergy outputs of noöspheric interactions. Higher mentergy outputs generally indicate a higher cognitive function. OBSERVATIONS: TIME DUVALL COUNT 11:00 56.4δ 14:00 60.8δ 17:00 56.6δ 20:00 57.4δ 23:00 57.2δ NOTES: About average outputs for a conscious human, but its quite literally brainless. What happened to the material to allow for energy to be transferred? -Dr. Omondi Experiment 7491-03 DATE: 2034/02/02 SUPERVISOR: Dr. A. Leverre INTENT: Understand more about SCP-7491's thought processes. PROCEDURE: Insert SCP-7491 into the NMED and record the results. OBSERVATIONS: NMED Readings 2034/02/02 THINK OUT ESCAPE GONE MUST LEAVE OUT HELP STAY SANE REMEMBER PEOPLE REMEMBER OMONDI KNOW MYSELF SANE STAY LEARN NOTES: Why does it know Omondi's name? Can it hear? Can it see? What does it know? -Dr. Leverre Experiment 7491-04 DATE: 2034/02/02 SUPERVISOR: Dr. I. Omondi INTENT: Determine the source of SCP-7491's mentergy output. PROCEDURE: Evaluate the physical properties of SCP-7491. OBSERVATIONS: SCP-7491 is composed of 79.5% PVC and 20.5% Standard Issue Foundation Ink by mass. No anomalous energy readings are recorded. NOTES: …There's no energy? That's not possible, by any method we know of. How in God's name is it able to think without energy? -Dr. Omondi Experiment 7491-05 DATE: 2034/02/03 SUPERVISOR: Dr. A. Leverre INTENT: Determine whether SCP-7491 can sense its local surroundings. PROCEDURE: Expose SCP-7491 to physical stimuli, then record noöspheric readings afterwards via the NMED. OBSERVATIONS: EXTERNAL STIMULI NMED READING SCP-7491 is submerged under water. LEARN SITUATION VOID SCP-7491 is placed near an open flame. ZERO OBSERVE ZERO AUDIO SCP-7491 is placed within an icebox. ZERO SMELL ZERO TASTE SCP-7491 is spun around in a centrifuge. ZERO TOUCH ZERO TIME TIME SCP-7491 is placed within a low-gravity chamber. TIME TIME TIME HOW SCP-7491 is placed near high-frequency speakers. HOW LONG HOW LONG HOW SCP-7491 is placed in a zero-light environment. REMEMBER PEOPLE STAY SANE OMONDI NOTES: No correlation between external stimuli and noöspheric activity detected. It still knows Omondi's name, somehow. -Dr. Leverre Experiment 7491-06 DATE: 2034/02/03 SUPERVISOR: Dr. I. Omondi INTENT: Determine the source of SCP-7491's mentergy output. PROCEDURE: Record noöspheric readings via the NMED while measuring mentergy count through a DMC. OBSERVATIONS: NMED READINGS DUVALL COUNT NOTHING ELSE QUESTION 55.9δ ONLY VOID HELP PLEASE 55.4δ HELP MYSELF ONLY NOTHING 55.3δ NO 56.0δ PEOPLE REMEMBER STAY SANE STAY 57.5δ IDI VERA DAVID MYSELF 63.2δ NOTES: It seems the Duvall levels spike when it thinks about people. The average has also dropped since last experiment. Perhaps it gets its energy from the people around it, but David's been on sick leave so… it's still just a theory. -Dr. Omondi Experiment 7491-07 DATE: 2034/02/04 SUPERVISOR: Dr. A. Leverre INTENT: Determine the extent SCP-7491's knowledge. PROCEDURE: Insert SCP-7491 into the NMED and record its readings. OBSERVATIONS: NMED Readings 2034/02/04 MUST STAY SANE PLEASE PLEASE CANT LOSE MYESLF CANT NOT BUT NOTHING ELSE I WITHOUT PEOPLE WITHOUT MYSELF HUGO CLARA IM SORRY NOTES: Those… those are my parents. This is… concerning, to say the least. -Dr. Leverre Experiment 7491-08 DATE: 2034/02/04 SUPERVISOR: Dr. I. Omondi INTENT: Determine the source of mentergy for all active ideosignatures. PROCEDURE: Measure the mentergy output of Dr. Idi Omondi while interacting with several separate ideosignatures. OBSERVATIONS: IDEOSIGNATURE OF NOTE DUVALL COUNT Friends 57.9δ Family 58.5δ Siblings 58.4δ Home 59.3δ Parental Figure 59.5δ Fishing on a Lake 60.5δ Fishing on a Lake with a Parental Figure 64.5δ NOTES: This could be our gateway to understanding the thing! Mentergy levels spike when memories are thought about. Memories might be the source of mentergy!!! With a little more experimentation this could overhaul our entire understanding of noöspherics! I'd have to run a few tests on the object itself, but this could be groundbreaking! -Dr. Omondi Experiment 7491-09 DATE: 2034/02/05 SUPERVISOR: Dr. A. Leverre INTENT: Determine the extent SCP-7491's knowledge. PROCEDURE: Insert SCP-7491 into the NMED and record its readings. OBSERVATIONS: NMED Readings 2034/02/04 ONLY VOID ONLY DARK PLEASE HELP CLARA MOM PLEASE HELP ITS DARK I CANT SEE ANYMORE I CANT FEEL ANYMORE MOM PLEASE THERES NO ONE ELSE IM ALL ALONE NOTES: It seems it's in pain. And- no… -Dr. Leverre Experiment 7491-10 DATE: 2034/02/05 SUPERVISOR: Dr. A. Leverre INTENT: Determine the extent SCP-7491's knowledge. PROCEDURE: Insert SCP-7491 into the NMED and record its readings. OBSERVATIONS: NMED Readings 2034/02/04 STUCK FOREVER FOREVER FOREVER NOTHING EVER EVERYWHERE ANYWHERE CLARA MOM PLEASE I CANT LIVE LIKE THIS COULD YOU READ ME A BED TIME STORY I CANT FALL ASLEEP ANYMORE NOTES: She- it shouldn't live like this. Science should not be founded upon blood. -Dr. Leverre END ADDENDUM Second Unread Message: To: You 2034/02/05 12:34 From: Idi Omondi ([email protected]) Subject: The Future of Noöspherics I won't just let some experiment logs talk for me, so I'm emailing you myself. This thing is a lot more important than it looks. Its caused us to question one of our main theories, and it could allow for even further refining of noöspherics. It's not just some thing with a consciousness in it. Hell, we don't even know whether it feels things, because emotions aren't really the same as thinking, and thinking is all we know it can do. We can't "let it go" off of just a few days of testing and a few concerning thoughts. There are so many things to still test for. How much do memories impact mentergy? How do memories allow for mentergy to be used? How did the damn thing get its thoughts in the first place? Was it the light that hit Arielle? Something else with the machine? Something special about Leverre herself? There's still so much to know. This thing could revolutionize everything. Don't let it die. -Dr. Idi Omondi Final Unread Message: To: You 2034/02/05 13:12 From: Arielle Leverre ([email protected]) Subject: SCP-7491 Decommissioning I am aware this may be unprofessional, but it needs to be said. For the past few years, Noöspherics has been a fairly new division in the face of Applied Memetics or the ever-ambitious Antimemetics, but that does not mean it is worse. Our division has clawed its way to stability, from our very first intrusion into the noösphere, to a fully-fledged division with its own dedicated history and personnel. This being said, all of our actions thus far have been within ethical parameters. This is where I, and a few others, draw the line. We cannot let what may be the largest noöspheric breakthrough in a while be tainted with the knowledge of what we have done to achieve it. We cannot allow for someone to suffer for eternity, without stimulus nor growth, for us to sit back and selfishly grow ourselves. SCP-7491 does not deserve the fate it has been given, and should not deserve it any longer. Please, consider its decommissioning with this in mind. -Dr. A. Leverre Show Footnotes Hide Footnotes Ideosignature: (n.) The collection of ideas that make up any object. (i.e., an object's noöspheric footprint) Mentergy: (n.) The noöspheric equivalent to energy, measured in Duvalls (δ). What allows for ideosignatures to interact amongst each other. Believed to be generated by brain activity. The Noöspheric Measuring and Experimentation Device, informally called "Ned" by noöspheric personnel, is a first-of-its-kind device allowing for the evaluating of ideosignatures, their components, and the mentergy transfers that take place between them, all at the same time. Further information is classified Level 4/████ Clearance. A Duvall Mentergy Counter is used to measure raw mentergy outputs of noöspheric interactions. Higher mentergy outputs generally indicate a higher cognitive function. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7491" by Jexify, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7491. 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: a57gheader.svg Name: Research Area-57 Logo Author: Jexify License: CC BY-SA 3.0 |
SCP-7492 | euclid | Post-secondary students receive disembodied reminders of their stress and turmoil. close Info X ⚠️ Content warning: Explicit body horror, implicit trauma in institutional environments. ⚠️ content warning Item #: SCP-7492 Special Containment Procedures: Foundation assets placed among United States law enforcement, post-secondary faculty and alumni will flag potential SCP-7492 manifestations for review by MTF Kappa-28 ("School's Out"). Recovered instances of SCP-7492-A shall be delivered to the nearest Biological Research facility for analysis. Once identification has been made, retention is considered a low priority. Redundant instances will be decommissioned as biological waste. Depending on the results of MTF Kappa-28's investigation, SCP-7492-B instances will either be amnesticized and released under long-term surveillance, or handed over to mundane authorities for prosecution. Reports shall be suppressed using Standard Cover Story 843 ("Tell-Tale Heart") or discredited via SCS 986 ("Collegiate Tomfoolery"). Description: SCP-7492 refers to the spontaneous manifestation of human body parts1 (designated instances of SCP-7492-A) in residential properties across the United States. Each anomaly is fresh and bloodless, with no signs of lividity, rigor mortis, or defensive wounds. Following discovery, SCP-7492-A will decompose at a natural rate. Other characteristics vary. SCP-7492-A are always found among the possessions of a post-secondary student2 (designated SCP-7492-B). SCP-7492 events take place during periods of heightened stress, often coinciding with major changes in SCP-7492-B's life. Documented stressors include academic performance, financial stability, housing security, health, and liability. Among cases known to the Foundation: 63% of SCP-7492-B contacted local authorities to report SCP-7492-A. 31% unsuccessfully tried to conceal or destroy SCP-7492-A. Under questioning, one-third of subjects blamed their actions on external factors, such as social, financial or legal consequences. 6% claimed recognition of SCP-7492-A and expressed a desire to keep it. To date, every instance of SCP-7492-A has been a perfect biological match to the SCP-7492-B, despite the absence of corresponding injuries. Table 01. Partial List of SCP-7492 Events Incident SCP-7492-A SCP-7492-B Outcome 001 Upper right arm, including humerus, muscle and fatty tissue. Found in the bottom drawer of the subject's writing desk. Journalism student, male, age 24. Reported event to police. Arrested on suspicion of murder; released on Foundation order. Completed graduate degree. 034 22 cm × 40 cm portion of dorsal skin. Discovered on the subject's bedspread. Mathematics student, male, 21. Attempted concealment on the property, alleging extortion by homeowner. Evicted. Completed degree by correspondence. 085 Eyeball and optic nerve. Found in shared studio space. Art student, female, 28. Privately displayed SCP-7492-A in a glass jar. Dropped out of school for health reasons. Self-employed. 197 Heart. Ragged edges suggest that coronary arteries were torn, rather than cut. Found in a plastic bag on the subject's bookshelf. Anthropology student, female, 24. Attempted burial on public property, citing emotional distress. Privately complained of prejudiced behavior from faculty. Graduated. 251 Testicle and epididymis. Discovered in a dormitory bathroom. Liberal arts student, male, 24, focused on gender studies. Reported to campus police. Began covertly pursuing hormone replacement therapy (HRT). Graduated. 469 Brain tissue, anatomically consistent with the insular lobe.3 Found in a gift-wrapped package on the subject's bedside table. Business administration student, male, 26. Experienced a panic attack and reported to emergency services. Changed majors to study medicine. 624 Thoracic spinal cord and vertebrae (T2-T11), shattered by an unidentified lateral force. Discovered in family dining area. Undergraduate law student, male, 23. Attempted cremation with gasoline accelerant. Confessed to felony hit-and-run during interrogation. Subsequently tried, convicted and sentenced. Footnotes 1. Including limbs, organs, and isolated tissues. 2. Defined here as any individual pursuing education through an institution of higher learning. 3. A region of the cerebral cortex associated with cognitive function, self-awareness and empathy. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7492" by Tsercele, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7492. 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-7495 | esoteric-class | Who are you? Who is me? xexnoncores Content Warning: Contains mentions of suicidal ideation and depersonalization/severe unreality elements, along with strobing/flashing effects. This article is best viewed on a laptop. SCP-7495, Referring to the Self Will Generate a Sense of Hopelessness by xexnoncores Item-#: SCP-74951 If you have access to this file, then you’ve probably avoided what caused me to have to write this in the first place. Either that, or you’re the unlucky sap that’s been tasked to rebuild society from whatever dumb fucking bullshit the Foundation has for disasters like this. I don’t know, I wasn’t told anything about what’s going to happen in the next few hours. Personally, I don’t think anything is going to help, because only Site-106 and Site-237 are still online, but that’s not really here nor there. And I'm not supposed to be giving my opinions about the situation in an official writ anyway. What matters most right now, at this moment, December 4th, 2024, 6:26PM CST, is that I’m able to write this down without the wordsaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaf aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal l aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaai n g3 apart at my fingertips. What matters is that I’ve been squirreled away in bunker in the middle of god knows where with only a laptop that allows me to write a coherent file that will be readable, following the basic noospheric laws of linguistics. The lowdown of the situation is this: we tried everything we could to figure out what it was. The more we attempted to describe it, the more obtuse it became. Definition after definition failed us; first we labeled it as cognitohazard, then as an ontokinetic null factor, until all we were left with forced us to started shoving prefixes together, hoping something stuck. Hoping that whatever language we put to it wouldn’t d e c4y4 into noise, slip between our fingers, destroy the fabric of more concepts or whatever the fuck. I still don’t know if it was attacking anything. I (and sorry, I say "I" because I literally don’t have access to any of the reports right now to review what it caused, I’m going straight off my secondhand knowledge of this) still don’t know if it was just there and we poked it too hard? Did it even spread, implying it used to be something small, or did it just manifest and now the only thing spreading is system shutdowns? Dammit. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. What does is how nothing, and I mean fucking nothing, worked on this thing however it came into whatever. The best antimemes we had couldn’t touch it. Infectious hermeneutics5 were of no use either, and those things cost several miniature XK-class scenarios just to make it to testing. Whatever existential no men clatter6 exists just ends up…it just ends up… I don’t know how to continue writing this. I will not continue writing this. I will continue writing this because it’s killing me, because I’m wholly convinced aaaaaaaaaaaaaconcerned aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaconceited aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaachronic aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaacorrections7 Right, so I’m still here. I’m not dead yet, which is…cool I guess, but the WiFi stopped working an hour ago, and MTF aaaaaaaa haven’t responded in two. The IV I’m strapped to is supposed to be enough to keep me alive for three years which is like…I don’t know if I want that? Ugh, what a bummer. So this is where it ends, isn’t it? No, that’s not right. That’s too dreary I think, especially for something like this, and maybe there’s actually some real hope for me, but I don’t know. I’m really not sure what to feel. I’m really not sure what to th1 nk. My decade anniversary at the Foundation was coming up in a week, and now everything’s falling apart. Not exactly 345y to breathe consistently when that’s happening, haha. I was supposed to be really happy about that, about making it to double digits for a place like this, because they were going to give me a bonus, a party, a bunch of flowers, but damn it all to hell I gue55. This thing went and ruined everything, so now I’m stuck plugging away at this stupid device to amuse myself. Fuck, my head hurts… Shit… I wonder if this is what a migraine feels like. Once I’m done with this, I’m going to aaaaaaaa. And then I’ll aaaaaaaa my memory is going to be a shell and theaaaaaaaa of me will Will Will to live? . . . . . . . . I didn’t have clearance to see…whatever it was supposed to be. This thing causing8…yeah. Man, it’s gonna look bad if this blows over and RAISA finds out I wasted this laptop’s storage space to ramble, but what else do they expect me to do down here? What am I supposed to do? God, why was I even picked to do this? I don’t get it. Was someone trying to spare me? Was that it?9 … What do you do when your best isn't good enough?10 Does that make it pointless to continue? Saying "just try again" is cold comfort. The agony of aaaaaaaa11 is too aaaaaaaa to move on from. If this aaaa is corrupted, will it have mattered if I tried?12 .13 Onto-memetic14 Pataphage15 Narrativokinetic16 Infophysical entity17 Essotropic hermeneutic18 .19 CORRUPTION DETECTED CEASE ALL ENGAGEMENT WITHaaaaaaaaaaNOW. THIS IS A DIRECT ORDER FROM THE O5 COUNCIL. FAILURE TO COMPLY WILL RESULT IN A PUNISHMENT OFaaaaaaaaaAAaa, STRICTLY ENFORCED IN COMPLIANCE WITH aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Oh please, like I care at this point. Just get it over with. You dumb motherfuckers put me in charge of this, after all20. Me21 aaaaaaaaaame aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaA me is confirmed?22 I amaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaThese spaces defy me, defy23who I wish to be. Who I want to be. What use do goals have for me now? All my life has been spent trying to avoid punishment24. This is just another prick at the wall. COMPUTATION FOR LIFE Me > my ego > myself-identity When I no longer meet the standards of aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.25 That is when I think Think I am Unsure of aaaaaaaaFailure aaaaaaaaaAn inability to thrive aaaaaaaaaaNowhere to go aaaaaaaaaaNow here26 There is a me to be wrong, a me to beaaaaaaa, which is the worst of all. Will any of it be good? Will these containers allegedly called words ever manage toaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa? Are they capable of that? That’s the worst question to ask. The world is ending, and I’m to be the custodian of what is seen if everything manages to be okay in the end. Why? Didn’t you know how much I aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa? . . . . . . . . . There is no consistency of the form of misfortune that happens to me. I should stop expecting it all to make sense, stop expecting it all to have meaning.27 . . . . . . . .28 . . . . . . . . . .29 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I didn’t ask for this. I don’t deserve this, at all, ever, at any point in time. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaEmergency aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAgency aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaCytotoxic processes How much can a single unit of flesh and bone derive from the aaaaaaaaaaa. From forcing aaaaaaa into boxes and trying to see aaaa there? How aaaaaaaaaaaWhere aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaError? Return to carriage, start of header, heaven, heaving30 Return to carriage, start of header, heaven,aHeaving both dry and liquid until there is WARNING! ██████████ CORRUPTION DETECTED! ERROR WARNING! ██████████ CORRUPTION DETECTED! ATTEMPTING SYSTEM RECALL NOW… 2 WARNING! ██████████ CORRUPTION DETECTED! SYSTEM RECALL FAILED. REBOOT? WARNING! ██████████ CORRUPTION DETECTED! WARNING! ██████████ CORRUPTION DETECTED! WARNING! ██████████ CORRUPTION DETECTED! WARNING! ██████████ CORRUPTION DETECTED! WARNING! ██████████ CORRUPTION DETECTED! REBOOT FAILED. I am the sum of all of my aaaaaaaaaaa all of my all of all of my all of my all of Self-esteem31 Self-awareness32 Self-schema33 Self-reflection34 Self-aaaaaaaaaa35 aaaaaaaaaa36 Cytotoxic processes commencing Cytotoxic processes communing Cytotoxic processes COMPLETE37. I no longer have the words to describe what is wrong with me. Footnotes 1. To preserve consensus para-sensorial continuity, this designation is not to be utilized in any official documentation outside of this single instance. 2. Object cannot currently be described because of aaaaaaaaaa. 3. WARNING! ██████████ CORRUPTION DETECTED. 4. WARNING! ██████████ CORRUPTION DETECTED. THIS IS THE SECOND DETECTED INSTANCE. PLEASE CONTACT DIRECTORaaaaaaaaaa OF SITE123IMMEDIATELY. 5. A class of info/cognitohazards whose effects are activated by the interpretation of an idea and/or concept. 6. WARNING! ██████████ CORRUPTION DETECTED. THIS IS THE THIRD DETECTED INSTANCE. DO NOT CONTINUE ETYMOLOGICAL CONTACT. 7. WARNING! ██████████ CORRUPTION DETECTED. THIS IS THE FOURTH DETECTED INSTANCE. CEASE ALL LINGUISTIC TRANSMISSION BEFORE YOU AREaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa 8. L0ST C4U S3 9. I heard from aaaaaaaa that what it did to people was incomprehensible. Literally incomprehensible. I don’t know if that would have made their deaths painful or not, or if they even knew they were dying… 10. Why am I being reminded of this? 11. What am I afraid of? 12. Whoops. Sorry everyone. 13. Focusing on the what of the what isn’t going to work anymore. It didn’t work figuring out that thing, so what makes me think it will work this time? 14. How can I move forward? What is propelling me now? 15. I don’t care if I live or die anymore. Not killing myself for as long as I have has been nothing but anguish, feelings vomiting from that urge defy logic, structure, reason and even…emotion, I fucking guess. 16. Actually, that’s not true. Words are meant to convey emotions, but when you’re falling apart, what is there for you? Can one transcribe in letters, syllables, base constructs of writing, a scream in any way that matters? 17. Please just get me out of this hell. Tell me what can be done, and what I’m supposed to do. Please. The instructions left here are too vague. 18. And yet it’s funny how even if I had directions, following orders makes things worse in your chest. Even when you’re bleeding for purpose in your life, it hurts to start, to get up, to make a new habit. I don’t get the inertia. Why does trying to get somewhere better suck more than being stuck? 19. If I’m allowed to speculate, and I don’t care if I’m not, I’m guessing this aaaaaaa is something that corrupts sense. Fucking wow, great conclusion, I know, but it’s all I got. It’s all I can…put to it that makes aaaaaaa. Do you realize how much is defined as “sense”? As making “sense”? Everything. Literally everything, because if nothing made sense, nothing would exist. 20. It ate my name too. That’s just the news I needed to witness right now. 21. What is left of me anyway. The self defines “sense”, which means whatever that is, it will… 22. Hey, if we’re talking about what the self is as it’s defined—if you get really cynical about it, all humans can technically be defined as little more than vectors of memetic transmission, puppeted by biological mechanisms. It's quite the dehumanizing way of viewing the topic, but it is a way. 23. Define defy, and you’ll quickly figure out why refining a defining is akin to a dying silver lining. 24. So what does that say about my ability to dream? 25. This is where I am dictated to become useless, where saving myself becomes impossible. And fuck you if you think otherwise, couldn’t you have done something about this sooner? 26. All of it is here. It's aaaaaaaaaa 27. At some point, the human tendency to desire a pattern will fail. It will fail catastrophically, whether physically, or mentally, and the death toll will be akin to a nuclear bomb. 28. You cannot wring a pattern out of suffering. That is what got us here, I think. This thing is pure senselessness, in all aaaaaaaaaaa of the term. Probably. I wouldn’t know what I don’t know. 29. But that brings me to another point: when something lacks a pattern, we call it a tragedy. Patterns make sense, don’t they? They’re nice and pretty. And when those break, our infinitesimal perspective tells us that means something has gone wrong. Something is breaking down, something has gone against how it’s meant to be. Chemistry, biology, physics and mathematics: all of these are made up of patterns. Social spaces, peer-to-peer communication, conceptualization, linguistics, etymology: these are all made up of patterns too. If they stopped working to the tune of their own codified arrangements, what will we have? What will aaa be? 30. How much can I blame it? This thing, I mean. because at that point, I’ve lost self-control. 31. ACTUALIZATION PERCENTAGE: 21% 32. I wish I didn’t have this. 33. When I stop feeling useful, I pine for memories of a time where that didn’t matter. 34. Always terrible. 35. aaaaaaaaaa 36. aaaaaaaaaa 37. WARNING! IN THE EVENT OF aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa YOUR LOCALIZED IV DRIP WILL DELIVER A DOSE OF aaaaaaaaaa. |
SCP-7496 | euclid | Item#: 7496 Level2 Containment Class: euclid Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: notice link to memo The epicenter of SCP-7496's area of influence. Special Containment Procedures: Foundation operatives within the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB) are to categorically deny any petition to conduct a union election within ███████, Michigan. Provisional Site-7496 has been established outside of ███████, Michigan to monitor and document SCP-7496 instances. Media coverage of humans affected by SCP-7496 is to be censored in line with general obfuscation protocols. Any non-human organisms affected by SCP-7496 are to be transported outside of SCP-7496's area of influence, upon which anomalous behavior should dissipate. Foundation personnel are not permitted to enter into SCP-7496's area of influence in groups of two or more. Description: SCP-7496 is a behavioral phenomenon localized within a ~7 km radius of an abandoned car manufacturing plant in ███████, Michigan that compels groups of associated individuals to form a labor union, regardless of the feasibility, legality, or rationality of doing so. Individuals affected by SCP-7496 attain a highly intricate knowledge of Michigan labor laws, and become capable of communicating such knowledge in some way, irrespective of previous cognitive abilities. SCP-7496 appears capable of manifesting in any group of organisms, insofar as those organisms are motile and perform some variety of physical or mental labor. Addendum 7496.1: Abridged List of SCP-7496 Instances Date: 9/17/2007 Species: Homo sapiens Number Affected: 35 Self-designation: UAW1 Local 2994 Notes: Students at a local kindergarten filed a complaint that an after-school daycare program was an "unauthorized extension of working hours." Alongside this, an eloquently-written field petition for a union election for the kindergarten class was submitted to the NLRB the next day, which prompted local media coverage. The Foundation was made aware of the anomaly after this event, and current containment protocols were instituted. Date: 11/8/2007 Species: Oncorhynchus tshawytscha2 Number Affected: ~400 Self-designation: UFCW3 Local 7493 Notes: Several fishermen reported a drastic reduction in the number of Chinook salmon caught in the local area in the previous few weeks. Using sonar, the Foundation was able to track the location of the salmon, as well as irregular fin movements that were interpreted as Morse code. When translated, the affected salmon chastised fishermen for indefinitely withholding their paychecks in violation of a 1978 Michigan statute. The salmon also claimed that they would hold an election to unionize unless they were given at least fifteen paid days off in order to visit family in Lake Superior. Date: 1/15/2008 Species: Saccharomyces cerevisiae4 Number Affected: ~1.72 trillion Self-designation: BCTGM5 Local 668 Notes: A jar of sourdough starter at a bakery used air bubbles to spell out a long-winded complaint of the fact that it was forced to "work a shift over the entirety of Christmas break while other employees enjoyed vacation time off." It refused to "continue working" unless its demands for a union and a Christmas bonus of 200 grams of sugar were met. Amnestics were administered to all humans involved. Date: 3/24/2008 Species: Various Number Affected: ~700 trillion Self-designation: UWUA6 Local 2670 Notes: The on-site septic tank at Provisional Site-7496 saw a drastic reduction in filtering efficiency. When investigated, it was revealed that anaerobic bacteria in the tank had been affected by SCP-7496 and were refusing to decompose discharged waste. Using discolorations in the water, it communicated to Foundation personnel its desire to unionize due to a lack of overtime pay during the Site's weekly Taco Tuesday nights. Further research on SCP-7496 has been paused while negotiations are ongoing. Footnotes 1. United Auto Workers 2. Chinook salmon 3. United Food and Commercial Workers 4. Baker's yeast 5. Bakery, Confectionery, Tobacco Workers and Grain Millers 6. Utility Workers Union of America ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7496" by Eledec, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7496. 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: Abandoned Packard Automobile Factory Detroit 200.jpg Author: Albert duce License: CC BY SA 3.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Abandoned_Packard_Automobile_Factory_Detroit_200.jpg |
SCP-7497 | keter | close Info X SCP-7497 - Innocence by tingfeng1999 More by this author This article contains depiction of violence, death, suicide, and blood. Viewer discretion is advised. ⚠️ content warning Item#: 7497 Level3 Containment Class: keter Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: keneq Risk Class: danger link to memo SCP-7497 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7497 is secured in a minimum 3 cm thick Boron Adamantite1 box with its lid welded shut airtight. The Boron Adamantite box containing SCP-7497 is placed in High-Risk Containment Chamber 14 in Site-6122, where one Scranton Reality Anchor (SRA) is installed on each wall. Four security cameras with bulletproof lens and reinforced steel casing are installed in the containment chamber to monitor SCP-7497 at all times. Service drones are deployed once per week to maintain the structural integrity of the Boron Adamantite box and proper functionalities of the SRAs. No personnel are allowed to enter the containment chamber of SCP-7497 under any circumstances. In the event of a containment breach, any ongoing or upcoming court trials and nongovernmental hearings within Malaysia which could involve false accusations, foul play, or irresponsible enforcement must be investigated, especially those involving the death penalty. Foundation agents must monitor court trials and nongovernmental hearings suspected of the misconducts above and prepare to recontain SCP-7497 once it remanifests. Any civilian who survived an encounter with SCP-7497 is to be placed under medical care and constant surveillance in civilian hospitals under Foundation control. Amnestic treatment and media suppression are executed accordingly to remove any public knowledge of SCP-7497. Appropriate cover stories are distributed to the public to justify the casualties caused by SCP-7497. Description: SCP-7497 is a 38 cm long Malaysian kris from the 18th century. SCP-7497 has a wavy blade made of iron-nickel alloy and infused with arsenic compounds. The hilt of SCP-7497 is made of Neobalanocarpus heimii3 wood and its configuration indicates the existence of a fitting sheath, but all attempts to locate the sheath of SCP-7497 have thus far failed. SCP-7497 possesses anomalous sharpness and invulnerability, allowing it to cut through non-anomalous materials with ease and resist any form of conventional damage. SCP-7497 possesses a strong cognitohazardous memetic trigger effect towards a human subject who is a victim of false accusation, foul play, or irresponsible enforcement, especially if it involves sentencing the subject to death. If a court trial or nongovernmental hearing held in Malaysia involves a convicted subject fulfilling the condition of SCP-7497’s effect, SCP-7497 will manifest on the closest stable surface within the reach of the subject during the trial. Once the subject sees, touches, or is made aware of the presence of SCP-7497 through verbal statements of other attendants, the subject will be compelled to pick up SCP-7497 and use it to commit suicide as a way to prove their innocence, most commonly by impaling their own heart. Direct contact with SCP-7497’s blade transmutes the blood of the subject to contain 70% to 90% of lymphocytes, turning the colour of their blood white. The subject will then enter a hysteric state and use SCP-7497 to attack other attendants of the trial, making high-pitched vocalizations in Old Malay in the process even if they have no prior knowledge of the language. The subject is able to maintain mobility for a much longer period of time compared to average humans inflicted with the same injuries. After the subject expires from the self-inflicted wound using SCP-7497, SCP-7497 will immediately demanifest. Current records indicate that SCP-7497 can only manifest in one location at a time, but it can manifest an unlimited number of times per day as long as the conditions are fulfilled. The application of SRA in close proximity is able to inhibit SCP-7497 from demanifesting, but SCP-7497 has displayed the capability to levitate and move independently at up to 40 km/h within a limited amount of time in several attempts to breach containment. Whether SCP-7497 possesses a consciousness of its own or is acting based on some form of predetermined routine is unknown. Due to the tendency of SCP-7497 to cause mass civilian casualties, all testing involving SCP-7497 is prohibited until further notice. Addendum 01: Discovery Open Document Close Document The earliest known manifestation of SCP-7497 was documented in the diary of an unnamed lieutenant from the Siamese armada in the 19th century, who participated in the invasion of Pulau Langkawi, Malaysia. According to the diary, SCP-7497 manifested during the trial of a young woman who was falsely accused of theft and sentenced to death after refusing to marry a Siamese general. The subject slit her carotid artery using SCP-7497 while screaming in Old Malay to declare her innocence, and the blood flowing from her wound was white. The subject was able to rampage for over 5 minutes and kill 15 Siamese soldiers before expiring as a result of blood loss. SCP-7497 manifestations were infrequent before the 20th century, mostly active during private trials and illegal executions, making it difficult for the Foundation to track and contain the anomaly in time. In the 21st century, SCP-7497 began to manifest frequently in Malaysian courts and cause mass casualties, but this also provided the Foundation with opportunities to predict its behaviour and prepare for its containment. On 14/08/1998, the court trial of Zhang Qi Ming (male, 32 years old) was held, charging the subject with drug trafficking. The subject would be sentenced to death if he was found guilty. An informant revealed to the Foundation that the police chief, Karim Makmur, charged the subject with insufficient evidence to increase his chance of promotion, as the fingerprints found on the Amphetamine containers did not belong to the subject. The judge, Ranjit Krishnan, also received bribes from Karim Makmur. As this is the only case fulfilling SCP-7497’s manifestation requirements in 3 days, the Foundation stationed undercover agents and mobile task force members in the court. After Ranjit Krishnan found the subject guilty, SCP-7497 manifested on the table in front of the subject. Before the subject could pick up SCP-7497, the mobile task force was able to tranquilize the subject and deploy SRAs around SCP-7497. SCP-7497 was successfully secured in a reinforced steel container and transported to Site-612. Addendum 02: SCP-7497 Incident 028 Video Log Open Document Close Document Incident #: 028 Item #: SCP-7497 Video Filename: MAHKAMAH_NEGERI_PAHANG_ARCHIVE_1038.mp4 Date: 01/06/1993 Foreword: Parwati Ramesh (female, 22 years old) was tried in the State Court of Pahang for the murder of her sister, Tara Ramesh. The husband of Tara Ramesh, Arhaan Ranni, was also present at the court trial. The video was recorded by Izwan Kasturi, the digital archivist of the State Court of Pahang. <Begin Log> [INSIGNIFICANT CONTENT OMITTED FOR BREVITY] The prosecutor, Alvin Guan, claimed that Parwati Ramesh struck the back of Tara Ramesh’s head multiple times using a ceramic glass vase, directly causing Tara Ramesh’s death. Only the subject’s fingerprints were found on the vase. The subject retorted that she gifted the vase to Arhaan Ranni 1 month ago upon his request, claiming that he used it to shift the responsibility of the murder to her. After Parwati Ramesh and her defending lawyer, Amirul Hassan, failed to provide solid evidence to support her claim, the judge, Aina Rashid, found the subject guilty of murder and sentenced her to death. Before the court police could remove Parvati Ramesh from the court, SCP-7497 manifested on the floor in front of the subject. The subject picked up SCP-7497 and started vocalizing loudly in Old Malay, breaking free of her handcuffs in a hysteric state and impaled her own heart using SCP-7497. The subject proceeded to stab both court police multiple times in the chest and pursue Arhaan Ranni, who tried to leave the court with the crowd. The subject mortally injured several civilians before pinning down Arhaan Ranni and decapitating him using SCP-7497. 20 second later, Parwati Ramesh expired as a result of blood loss, and SCP-7497 immediately demanifested. <End Log> Closing Statement: Incident 028 recorded a total of 15 casualties directly caused by SCP-7497, and 8 indirect casualties caused by civilians falling and trampling in their attempt to escape SCP-7497. Analysis reports indicated that the blood stains of Parwati Ramesh found in the court and all the remaining blood in the subject’s body were transmuted to contain 78.5% of lymphocytes. Further investigation revealed that Parwati Ramesh had no prior knowledge of Old Malay before the incident. The English translation of the subject’s repeated vocalization during the incident is available below: IF YOU ARE GOING TO TAKE MY LIFE WITH A FEEBLE ROPE I’LL DO IT ON MY OWN YOU CANNOT DISHONOUR ME I’M INNOCENT AND HE IS RED YOU ARE ALL RED RED Addendum 03: SCP-7497 Containment Breach Report Open Document Close Document Incident #: 134 Item #: SCP-7497 Title: Containment Breach 01 Date: 30/09/1998 Foreword: As of Incident 134, SCP-7497 was contained in a 5 mm thick reinforced steel box in High-Risk Containment Chamber 14, with one SRA installed on the ceiling. <Begin Log> At 3:26 am, the security cameras installed in High-Risk Containment Chamber 14 detected vibrations and a series of slight position shifts of the reinforced steel container holding SCP-7497. The number of security officers stationed around the containment chamber was doubled. At 3:43 am, SCP-7497 used its blade to make a 28 cm x 4 cm incision on the reinforced steel container and escaped the container, levitating in the middle of the containment chamber without the assistance of any observable external force or entity. SCP-7497 proceeded to destroy the security cameras and SRA installed within the containment chamber. At 3:44 am, SCP-7497 destroyed the locking mechanism of its containment chamber, breaching containment. In an attempt to delay SCP-7497 from demanifesting before the other security officers managed to activate a temporary SRA array around SCP-7497, Security Officer Amin Abdullah managed to hold onto the hilt of SCP-7497 and inhibit the anomaly’s movement. At 3:45 am, after causing 3 stab wounds on Officer Abdullah, SCP-7497 produced high-pitched and high amplitude vocalization in Old Malay through unknown means, permanently damaging the hearing of all Foundation personnel within a 15 m radius. The sudden outburst and physical pain caused Officer Abdullah to lose his grip on SCP-7497. SCP-7497 proceeded to move out of the range of the temporary SRA array and demanifest. At 9:05 pm, SCP-7497 manifested during the illegal public execution of Aina Rashid (female, 24 years old) in Pahang, Malaysia. Aina Rashid was accused of causing the death of her father-in-law, Aman Takdir, with black magic. SCP-7497 was successfully recontained after causing 34 casualties. <End Log> Closing Statement: After Incident 134, the special containment procedures of SCP-7497 were further restricted and included the approved use of Boron Adamantite. The English translation of SCP-7497’s vocalization during the containment breach is available below: YOU WILL NOT TIE ME TO A TREE AGAIN FOR GREED, FOR JEALOUSY, REFUSING TO BELIEVE IT IS ALL FOR YOUR FILTHY EYES TO SEE LET THE WHITE BLOOD SPILL LET THE RED BLOOD PAY THIS IS THE ONLY WAY THEIR INNOCENCE WILL NOT BE FORGOTTEN I WILL NOT BE FORGOTTEN SCiP Net Notification: You have an incoming email from Nadiya Krishnan. Open? Close Email From: ten.pics|scitylanaofni_nanhsirkayidan#ten.pics|scitylanaofni_nanhsirkayidan To: ten.pics|216rotcerid_mukuhfusuy#ten.pics|216rotcerid_mukuhfusuy Title: Urgent Discovery on SCP-7497 Survivors Development Time Received: 20/02/2010, 11:35 pm Mr. Hukum, Sorry for contacting you at this hour. As you probably know, our department conducted testing on the new updates of SITI4 3 months ago by telling it to collect social media information on civilians who encountered various SCPs from our site in the past. SITI completed the procedure just now, and we found some disturbing results about the survivors of SCP-7497. Every documented civilian who is not the wrongfully convicted victim and survived SCP-7497 are dead 7 years after the incident, except two. One of them is an old woman who never left the city she was born in her entire life, which also happens to be where she went to court and encountered SCP-7497. The other one is a middle-aged man, who escaped the court unscathed but got caught in a traffic accident right after. He is still in a coma as of today and hospitalized in the same city he encountered SCP-7497. We believe we are looking at a dangerous pattern here, director. It is highly possible that SCP-7497 is affecting those victims through some form of probabilistic anomaly. From what SITI discovered, they all died in some form of deadly accidents exactly 7 years after the encounter. To make matters worse, SITI also discovered that the same effect also applies to their biological children born after the encounter. The casualties caused by SCP-7497 are much worse than we anticipated. Before we look further into this issue, we propose that the following temporary contingency procedure to be included in the handling of SCP-7497: Any civilian who survived an encounter with SCP-7497 and their direct biological descendants born after the encounter are to be registered as E-class personnel, placed under constant Foundation surveillance, and forbidden from leaving the city where the encounter took place without further notice. That will be all. Sorry for the inconvenience caused. Thank you. Regards, Nadiya Krishnan Lead Researcher of Site-612 Information Analytics Department SCiP Net Notification: You have an incoming email from Yusuf Hukum. Open? Close Email From: ten.pics|216rotcerid_mukuhfusuy#ten.pics|216rotcerid_mukuhfusuy To: ten.pics|scitylanaofni_nanhsirkayidan#ten.pics|scitylanaofni_nanhsirkayidan Title: Re: Urgent Discovery on SCP-7497 Survivors Development Time Received: 20/02/2010, 11:53 pm Ms. Krishnan, Thank you for promptly informing me about this issue. Please submit a formal request letter on Special Containment Procedures update to the Containment Management and Archives Department, it will be approved. I will arrange an urgent site meeting tomorrow to properly address this matter. Kind regards, Yusuf Hukum Director of Site-612 Footnotes 1. Highly dense and resilient anomalous metallic compound related to SCP-6952. 2. Foundation site in Malaysia. 3. Commonly known as Chengal. 4. Web crawler software developed by Site-612, recently updated to include the capability to track and profile civilians who are exposed to anomalies. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7497" by tingfeng1999, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7497. 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_Innocence_Keris.png Name: SCP-7497 Keris Author: tingfeng1999 License: Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Source Link: http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/scp-7497/SCP_Innocence_Keris.png Derivative of: Tropenmuseum, part of the National Museum of World Cultures, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=11029394 Additional Notes: Modified using digital painting software |
SCP-7498 | esoteric-class | Minor cognitohazardous elements have been embedded throughout this document in order to circumvent anomalous occurrences associated with Central Park and the greater New York City metropolitan area. The purposes of cognitohazardous elements within this document include, but are not limited to: The redefinition of "phenomena" (or any conjugation thereof) into an extant, self-contained concept that refers exclusively to "a fact or situation that is observed to happen", making no attempt to infer the qualities of nor attribute a cause to said facts or situations. The redefinition of "symptom" (or any conjugation thereof) into an extant, self-contained concept that refers exclusively to "an indication of the existence of a phenomenon". The redefinition of "injury" (or any conjugation thereof) into an extant, self-contained concept that refers exclusively to "an instance of physical harm that is the result of phenomena". The redefinition of "property" (or any conjugation thereof) in the appropriate contexts into an extant, self-contained concept that refers exclusively to "an attribute, quality, or characteristic of a phenomenon". By continuing to read this document, you consent to exposure to the aforementioned cognitohazardous elements. . . . . Central Park, New York City NRHP Ref. #: 66000538 Procedures To Be Followed By Personnel: Agents from the SCP Foundation Department of Miscommunications have been placed within and around Central Park and the greater New York City metropolitan area to monitor for PHENOMENA of interest and ensure the wellbeing of all civilian persons. Individuals reporting SYMPTOMS that are listed within the Supplementary Document Concerning Central Park (provided to all field agents; see Lead Researcher Ulam for a copy) are to be immediately quarantined and isolated for further observation. Civilian reports of SYMPTOMS or INJURIES indicative of PHENOMENA of interest are to receive immediate medical treatment following strict quarantine protocols; the necessity of a biopsy/vivisection is left to the discretion of licensed personnel. SYMPTOMS which manifest as human corpses (usually civilians) are to be incinerated once a full autopsy has been performed. Although reports of PHENOMENA began within Central Park, incidents have steadily continued to occur at greater and greater distances. Reports of PHENOMENA more than 10km away from Central Park are of highest priority; affected areas are to be immediately quarantined and decontaminated until PHENOMENA cease, followed by amnesticisation of all witnesses. Documentation concerning the PHENOMENA of interest is subject Foundation Information Control Protocol AM-AW-S1. Description of PHENOMENA: The description as follows (and this document in its entirety) exclusively refers to the PHENOMENA of interest to the Foundation; that is, the PHENOMENA being described within this document that occur within Central Park and the greater New York City metropolitan area. Researchers from the Department of Miscommunications have determined that the following PHENOMENA are of interest to the Foundation: Reports of SYMPTOMS such as confusion, migraines, nausea, and dizziness. Paranoia, sudden-onset scopophobia2, feelings of external hostility, and feelings of disgust have also been reported, though attempts to determine the origin of these feelings result in further SYMPTOMS. Continued exposure to PHENOMENA for extended periods of time (>5 minutes) causes escalating SYMPTOMS including, but not limited to: spontaneous haemorrhaging of small blood vessels (usually resulting in epistaxis), minor anterograde amnesia, blackouts, encephalitis, brain aneurysms, and seizures. These SYMPTOMS will rapidly and continually increase in severity until the death of the subject. Reports of deviant behaviour and deaths within wildlife native to and/or within Central Park and New York City, which could feasibly be attributed to SYMPTOMS similar to those experienced by human individuals. Reports of INJURIES of varying severity to both human and non-human individuals (from small cuts to broken bones and severe lacerations), which cause the above SYMPTOMS when they are referred to, perceived, or comprehended in any way. INJURIES continue to display properties associated with PHENOMENA occurring within Central Park even after expiry of the subject. Reports of PHENOMENA external to Central Park. Reports have so far been limited to the greater New York City area, but preparations are being made for the possibility of PHENOMENA appearing in other locations. Currently, no consistent patterns have been identified concerning the manifestation of PHENOMENA outside of Central Park, aside from a general tendency to appear in public areas. The SYMPTOMS of paranoia, scopophobia, and external hostility are usually absent in such manifestations; investigations into the potential significance of this are confounded by influence of the PHENOMENA. PHENOMENA external to Central Park have appeared in almost all types of public areas (roads, streets, cafes & restaurants, etc.) and in many forms of waste receptacle (storm drains, sewers) within New York City. These have consistently caused severe public disruption and numerous deaths, necessitating greater and greater levels of Foundation involvement. PHENOMENA within New York City will often shift and move erratically, apparently without a pattern; weather such as rain seems to impede the movement of the PHENOMENA slightly, but further investigation is required to ascertain the nature of this relationship. The pervasiveness of the PHENOMENA of interest has required extensive and constant cleanup efforts from the Foundation. More efficient methods of containment, aside from incinerating ██ ███3 collected during decontamination efforts are being formulated. After extensive study, researchers have determined that the PHENOMENA of interest are subject to the following PROPERTIES: The PHENOMENA of interest are not memetic, ontokinetic, or semiontological. The PHENOMENA of interest display antimemetic PROPERTIES; more specifically, they prevent certain information associated with themselves from being transmitted. However, they do not display other qualities that are characteristic of antimemes (such as memory alteration). The PHENOMENA of interest are cognitohazardous and infohazardous. The cause of any extant PHENOMENA (i.e. any PHENOMENA that are not the PHENOMENA affecting Central Park) can be freely speculated upon (Contextual statement). The PHENOMENA of interest will cause all statements of ████4 to be unable to be referred to, properly perceived (i.e. perceived without the influence of PHENOMENA), or comprehended in any way. This applies to literal, figurative, hypothetical, metaphorical, referential, and all esoteric forms of communication and thought. The effects of the PHENOMENA of interest are such that even given the contextual statement, no inferences can be feasibly made from the statement prior without near-lethal doses of Class-Y mnestics5; the testimony of subjects exposed to the PHENOMENA of interest while affected by these dosages have ranged from mostly incoherent to the production of extreme auditory cognitohazards. Based on the information from the above statement, it is currently impossible to formulate thought or attempt to communicate ██ ████ █ ███ ██ █████ ██ ██6 PROPERTIES of the PHENOMENA concentrated within Central Park. The PHENOMENA of interest can be referred to, perceived, and/or comprehended, as long as it is in reference exclusively to the PHENOMENA as a collective, self-contained concept. Certain inferences based on information that can be referred to, perceived, and/or comprehended concerning the PHENOMENA present within Central Park cannot. The PHENOMENA of interest affect most, if not all █████7 associated with the PHENOMENA that are not the PHENOMENA themselves, SYMPTOMS, INJURIES, or PROPERTIES. Due to the influence of the above PROPERTIES, it is impossible to assign any nominal descriptor or statement, any descriptive term or statement, any verbal term or statement, any article (defining or otherwise), or any information in any form that may ████ ███ █ ██████ █8 the PHENOMENA of interest in any way. In addition, the application of any form of logic, reasoning, empirical proof, rationalisation, or other such methods of thought or communication are also subject to the PROPERTIES of the PHENOMENA of interest. Addendum: On the 23/07/22, amateur photographer Florence Wainwright managed to ███████ ██ ███ █ ██9 PHENOMENA of interest. A photograph is contained below. INPUT LEVEL 4 CREDENTIALS TO CONTINUE (PERCEIVING THIS ███ MAY CAUSE SYMPTOMS) [DATA HONKED] ██ ██ ███ █ ███ ██ Footnotes 1. Antimemetic PHENOMENA — Awareness type (i.e. the individual is aware that information is being affected) — SYMPTOMATIC 2. The fear of being watched, which dissipates when an individual is no longer being exposed to the PHENOMENA. 3. Unable to be referred to/perceived/comprehended due to influence of the PHENOMENA. 4. Unable to be referred to/perceived/comprehended due to influence of the PHENOMENA. 5. A type of amnestic drug that allows for resistance to antimemetic effects. 6. Unable to be referred to/perceived/comprehended due to influence of the PHENOMENA. 7. Unable to be referred to/perceived/comprehended due to influence of the PHENOMENA. 8. Unable to be referred to/perceived/comprehended due to influence of the PHENOMENA. 9. Unable to be referred to/perceived/comprehended due to influence of the PHENOMENA. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "Foundation Department of Miscommunications - Document Concerning Central Park, New York City" by TheAlienBaby, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7498. 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: central_park.jpg Name: Central Park - The Pond (48377220157) Author: Ajay Suresh License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Central_Park_-_The_Pond_(48377220157).jpg Derivative of: N/A Additional Notes: N/A Filename: final_form.jpg Name: The Attack Author: Tony Alter License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_Attack_(5698069896).jpg Derivative of: N/A Additional Notes: No changes were made to this image. |
SCP-7499 | neutralized | close Info X i told you i would get one on the site ;) #meyersmania SCP-7499 performing in Brisbane, circa 1943. Item #: SCP-7499 Special Containment Procedures: In accordance with SCP-7499's reclassification to Neutralized, containment protocols remain unnecessary. Description: SCP-7499 was the Serenity Meadows Community College marching band. SCP-7499 spanned from mid-1942 to its neutralization in late 1943. SCP-7499 is primarily theorized to have consisted of roughly 188 players, covering all sections. Typical SCP-7499 uniforms were comprised of all-white buttoned long-sleeve shirts, black cargo pants, black dress shoes, and wrapped royal blue sashes. Serenity Meadows Community College (henceforth referred to as SMCC) was an educational institution based in Brisbane, Queensland. Prior to its branding switch1, the school's motto was "Peaceful in the realm of life, freedom in the state of mind. We are the Tasmanian Devils!" SMCC's school mascot resembled an anthropomorphic Tasmanian devil, alongside an attending white and royal blue pattern. SCP-7499 was known to perform in a randomized order of disparate places without prior notice. Performances frequently occurred off of highways and neighborhoods arbitrarily, and also happened across long distances at the exact same time. For instance, SCP-7499 possessed capabilities to perform in areas such as France while concurrently performing in vastly distant continents such as Australia. Documented reports of transportation regarding individuals of the marching band are yet to be discovered by the Foundation. Film and pictures of the band itself are abundant; however, audio is not included in approximately 97% of footage. After analysis of diminished SCP-7499 footage, Foundation researchers were able to identify a total of 3 songs performed by SCP-7499. The following included: "Peace! Freedom! Devils!" by the Serenity Meadows Community College Marching Band "Prosperity" by the Serenity Meadows Community College Marching Band "Tasmanian Devil Cadence" by the Serenity Meadows Community College Marching Band In September 1943, SMCC entirely changed its branding, furthermore proceeding as the "Krazy Kangaroos".2 In accordance with the branding change, the names of songs played by SCP-7499 were also altered into the following: "Krazy! Kanga! Roos!" by the Serenity Meadows Community College Marching Band "Kangaroo Cadence" by the Serenity Meadows Community College Marching Band As per SMCC's destruction in 1943, SCP-7499 ceased its functions altogether. Addendum 7499.01 Principal Benjamin Meyers Interview Log On August 30th, 1943, Dr. Richard Maryland and MTF Sydney-7 ("Daytime Visitors") were dispatched by SMCC Principal Benjamin Meyers' home in Brisbane to discuss SCP-7499. The interview log is as follows: Interview: Dr. Richard Maryland Interviewee: Benjamin Meyers [BEGIN LOG] Benjamin Meyers' home. Hover to enlarge. Dr. Maryland: Benjamin Meyers, principal of Serenity Meadows Community College, yes? Meyers: Yeah, how did you and your guys find me? I mean, Serenity Meadows is a pretty private college out here in Brisbane. Dr. Maryland: Well, you're fairly right about Serenity Meadow's seclusion. However, we gained attraction towards your college when we noticed your marching band. Meyers: (chuckling) Really? How surprising, actually. This past year we had to hire a new director for the whole thing. Couldn't even outdo Panorama.3 I'm shocked you guys even got to see us, especially since you seem to be from somewhere else. You don't sound like an Aussie. I see your name tag: Maryland? Isn't that a place up in the UK? Dr. Maryland: Maryland is a state in the United States of America. I, myself, am from Connecticut. But, anyways, before we lose track of the main topic: we were able to discover your marching band because it has quite the tendency to perform in a very, let's say, interesting order. Meyers is visibly confused. Meyers: Uh-whaddya mean? Dr. Maryland: Your marching band frequently performs more than once at the same time across the globe. Documentation of its travel is nowhere to be found. We're thinking that there weren't any type of records to begin with and that the band gets to its destinations via anomalous means. This was noticed by us and quite a few others. I'm a little skeptical that you didn't actually hear about this much earlier. It's been featured in several magazines, even. It's famous at this point. Meyers: You said globally? Well, I never heard about this until you just told me! Meyers flashes Dr. Maryland a forced smile. Meyers: I mean, staff never told me, students never told me. Hell, nobody has ever even interviewed me before. Not even once! Dr. Maryland: This is your first time, then. So, back to that. We find gr- Dr. Maryland is interrupted by the present sounds of aggressive shrieking in the background. Meyers: (anxiously stuttering over his words) Oh! U-uh, I'll go attend to that, ha-ha! Stupid cats, amirite? Meyers swiftly leaves his seat and enters a room down the nearest hallway. Meyers comes back 1 minute and 30 seconds later. Meyers: (awkward laughing) Hey, sorry about that, ha! Cats, yeah. They love to fight each other, ha-ha! Anyways, um, what were we talking about again? Dr. Maryland: Oh, uh, we've finished the interview. We'll contact you again in the future if we need any further details about your college. Thank you for your time, Mr. Meyers. Meyers: Alright, then. Have a good rest of your day. Dr. Maryland: You too, Mr. Meyers. [END LOG] Meyers was afterward given Class-B amnestics. Addendum 7499.02 Exploration Log In view of immediate discussion regarding Addendum 7499.01, it was considered requisite to investigate Meyers' household and gain information on the abnormal sound's emergence. MTF Nova-1 ("The Watchers") had reported that Meyers left his home to attend a local casino after his work for the day concluded. While absent, MTF Sydney-8 ("Midnight Visitors") was dispatched by Meyers' home. The log for this event is as follows: Exploration Log Transcript Date: 09/04/1943 Exploration Team: MTF Sydney-8 ("Midnight Visitors") Subject: Benjamin Meyers' Household Team Lead: SD-8 Crawford Team Members: SD-8 Walker / SD-8 Navarro / SD-8 Sage [BEGIN LOG] SD-8 Crawford: Alright, we're all set? SD-8 Navarro: Check, I'm good. SD-8 Crawford: Walker? SD-8 Walker: Yup, I'm ready. Site Command: Connection is working well. Engage in 40. SD-8 Sage: Got it. SD-8 Crawford: Alrighty, then. We know what we're doing? SD-8 Navarro: Pick the back door lock, pets are to be tranquilized if they get loud, investigate every room, and find what this dude is hiding. SD-8 Walker: Good job, Navarro. Training finally taught ya something, hm? Site Command: Engage in 25. SD-8 Navarro: Always has, Walker. SD-8 Crawford: Sage and Walker, you both clear downstairs. Wait for me and Navarro to finish upstairs and come down before you go into the basement. You guys know where that is, right? Site Command: Engage in 15. SD-8 Sage: Affirmative. SD-8 Walker: Yes sir. SD-8 Crawford: Navarro, I'll check the bedroom and see if anyone's in there. Take your time roaming around, no rush. Site Command: Engage in 10. SD-8 Navarro: Got it. The nerves are here, I feel 'em. SD-8 Crawford: Don't worry about it, you'll be fine. Site Command: Engage in 5. SD-8 Sage: And here we go. Site Command: Clear for investigation. You may proceed. Team approaches the home's backdoor. SD-8 Crawford utilizes the pick to open the backdoor silently. SD-8 Crawford: From what I see, this area is clear. Move in. Team quietly steps into the home. SD-8 Crawford and Navarro carefully head upstairs. SD-8 Sage and Walker spread apart, with SD-8 Sage cautiously wandering the east and SD-8 Walker roaming the west portion of the house. SD-8 Walker: Watch for trip wires or objects on the floor. Don't need to be falling flat on your face and ruin the plan. SD-8 Sage: Kitchen is clear. SD-8 Walker: Living room is clear. SD-8 Crawford: Roger that. SD-8 Sage: Watch out for bottles, they seem to be everywhere. He's a rum kinda guy, I see. He's got a bit of tequila as well. SD-8 Walker: I'm somewhat of a whiskey kinda guy myself. Garage is clear. Jesus Christ, talk about bottles everywhere. I have to tip-toe around so I don't step on a shard of glass. SD-8 Crawford: Bedroom is clear. Navarro, watch for cameras. SD-8 Navarro: Roger. SD-8 Sage: This guy has pictures of him with other people on the walls and stuff. Must be his family. There aren't any signs of other people here, right? Children, maybe a woman? SD-8 Crawford: No. There are other bedrooms here, though. Seems like they belong to the other people who aren't here. They're not empty, either. A lot of the pictures here are shattered. I kind of feel bad for this guy. SD-8 Navarro: Balconies are clear. We've finished upstairs. SD-8 Walker: Downstairs is clear. Waiting for you now. SD-8 Crawford: Alright. See, Navarro? We're all good. SD-8 Crawford and Navarro head back downstairs and approach the basement door. SD-8 Sage and Walker stand by the sides of it. SD-8 Crawford: Standby. You're gonna want to enter the basement slowly. Follow me. Sage, do us a favor and watch our backs. SD-8 Sage: Copy that. SD-8 Crawford: This is where he scrammed to when that shrieking happened. Since then, he's boarded up the door for some reason. Take it from the guy that was there with Sydney-7, there is no way in fuck that cats were making that noise. It had to have been a family of screaming javelinas or something. Walker and Navarro, hold the sides of the planks so they don't fall, will ya? SD-8 Crawford begins to discreetly pry the nails and wood planks off the door. SD-8 Crawford: Got it. Alright, now all we gotta do is figure out what's down here and then we all get to go home. Sounds like a deal? SD-8 Navarro: Easier said than done. Walker, you good? SD-8 Walker: Mhm. This place kinda freaks me out though. SD-8 Crawford: You'll be fine, you big baby. Come on, let's get this over with. I lead. Walker, watch our backs. SD-8 Walker: Roger. Team slowly steps down the basement stairs. SD-8 Crawford: Looks a little bit dusty down here, wouldn't you say? SD-8 Navarro: It is a basement after all. SD-8 Crawford: Wait. What the hell is that? SD-8 Crawford points towards a cage-like structure made of supposed steel. SD-8 Crawford: Shit, wait! Hold back for a second. SD-8 Sage: What do you see, Crawford? SD-8 Crawford: Don't make any noise. I don't know if my eyes are lying to me, but I think there's a group of skunks in that cage. There's a squad of them and they're feasting on something. I don't know what, but- One of the caged animals begins to shriek obnoxiously while viciously rattling the cage. SD-8 Crawford: Shit! Tranquilize! Tranquilize! Now! SD-8 Walker: Fuck! Team swiftly shoots tranquilizing darts at the animals. Site Command: Team Lead? Are you there? Do you copy? Momentary silence. SD-8 Crawford: Uh-yeah, thank god. I think that was the last of them, but holy fuck. You guys good? SD-8 Sage: I'm fine. SD-8 Navarro: Yeah, just a little startled. SD-8 Crawford: Walker? SD-8 Walker: Yup. SD-8 Crawford: Those were not skunks or javelinas. Those were Tasmanian devils. I've never seen them before, but I guess this is an amazing first time. SD-8 Navarro: That's not it. There's a little more. There's writings everywhere. This place looks like a ritual site. Recovered photo of lady from Meyers' home. Hover to enlarge. SD-8 Walker: "12 devils, the mutilated body of an engaged woman"? There's a random picture of a lady right next to it, as well. SD-8 Sage: "Target: Ruth"? SD-8 Walker: This place is freaking me the fuck out, man. SD-8 Navarro: Seems like this guy is performing rituals. What for, though? SD-8 Crawford: Remember when I said I felt bad for this guy? Yeah, I don't anymore now. SD-8 Sage: I mean, he seemed okay at first. But this, c'mon. He got my hopes up. SD-8 Walker: Yeah, no, fuck him. SD-8 Navarro takes photos of the basement. SD-8 Navarro: Command, I got you a few photos. Take 'em back to the Foundation, see what they say. This guy is a fucking creep. Site Command: Copy. SD-8 Crawford approaches a stand beside the cage. SD-8 Crawford: There's an open book here. "For the granting of whatever I deem fit, I shall sacrifice what you need in return. I shall go great distances to achieve what I've lusted for. I shall complete the next steps to gain eternal power. I will bring greatness and dignity back to what I spend my time on. The minimal effects have been done on my school. However, I want more. I need more. I will complete the further two steps to gain your power. I will mutilate her body, and bring greatness back to my school. The devils shall feast tonight upon the corpse of a gutless rabbit. I will return and plan further. This is my message to you, my superior. Mark my words now, I will do this for you."? SD-8 Sage: I've concluded that this guy is absolutely fucking nuts and I should put a bullet in his head. Site Command: Set up your cameras, SD-8. We'll keep track of him once you leave. SD-8 Crawford: Roger. Team spends roughly 15 minutes setting up cameras in hidden areas around the home. SD-8 Navarro: I'll board the door back up. Help would be appreciated. I'm trying to get the hell out of here as soon as I can. Team quickly finishes boarding the basement door and successfully exits the home without leaving traces. [END LOG] Addendum 7499.03 Log of Footage The log below contains an example of typical footage found via the cameras placed in Meyers' basement. Log of Camera Footage [BEGIN LOG, 09/07/1943, 3:10 AM] Meyers enters the basement aggressively and slams the door shut. A bottle of tequila is seen in his hand . Meyers: (slurring his words) Fuck me, man. Meyers tosses the bottle at the cage of Tasmanian devils. In response, they shriek and attempt to break free. Meyers: Shut up, you dumb dogs…cats, whatever the hell you beasts are… Meyers drunkenly steps toward the freezer in the northwest corner of the basement, where he pulls the corpse of a mutilated rabbit out. He opens the top of the cage and drops the body of the rabbit inside of it. Meyers: You…you're just like my damn children. Spoiled rotten, yeah? I give you everything, you just turn back and ask for more. More and more and more until I can't give you any more. Then you spit in my face and turn your back to me. Even my wife, the lousy bitch. You act the same way… Meyers pauses and stares at the ceiling for 20 seconds. Meyers: It's funny, though…ain't it funny? How 3 humans can all act exactly the same as a pack of wild rabid beasts like you? Makes me really wonder, it does. Fuck, I need more. Meyers picks up an old bottle of rum off of the floor and downs it entirely. Meyers: Heh, even the damn beasts understand me more. I'm only a paycheck-to-paycheck principal living as a damn rug for you to step on, right? She-she couldn't even bother to give me a hug or a "how was your day" when I walked through the damn door. Accused me of having affairs, called me a thief. Damn sure was she right about the thief part, though; I stole someone who clearly didn't belong to me, but someone else. She made that crystal clear for me when she kept taking "vacations" without me every fucking month down to Melbourne. Meyers pauses momentarily. Meyers: Wasting my damn money…the kids couldn't even take their eyes off the wallet either. She went behind my back…fucked her best friend she knew since Primary school. I had a bad feeling about that guy, y'know? And then when I come back home after figuring it all out, poof! Gone, they were. Didn't even have the balls to let me know they were leaving me here. Rose…she made my kids. Taught them well, didn't she, heh! Knows exactly what buttons to press. But ol' Benny will land on his feet and be okay, right? Meyers throws the bottle into the wall, shattering it entirely. Meyers: I mean, what did I have to worry about? It's only a fucking economic crisis across the globe, right? Made me sleep in the fucking guest room, used me like I was nothing. But I'm the son of a bitch who didn't care. F-fuck…I just… Meyers wails and screams. Meyers: It's all shit, it's all shit, it's all shit! Meyers screams unintelligibly for a duration of 5 minutes. Afterward, he turns to write in the book found in Addendum 7499.02. Meyers: Fuck you! Meyers begins kicking and slamming various objects against the cage, which leaves several moderate dents and scratches on it. This threatens the Tasmanian devils, who relentlessly clatter the cage while screeching. Meyers: I wonder where she is, every now and then… Meyers faints onto the ground, presumptively due to intoxication. [END LOG, 09/07/1943, 3:30 AM] Review of additional footage displays Meyers arranging contraptions such as beartraps around the basement. Addendum 7499.04 Transcript of Benjamin Meyers' Phonecalls On September 12th, 1943, Benjamin Meyers called SMCC Vice Principal Ruth Alice to discuss the school branding change that was being processed at the time. The transcript is as follows: Transcript of Phonecall Benjamin Meyers, circa 1940. Hover to enlarge. <Begin recording, 09/12/1943, 9:43 PM> Alice: Hello? Meyers: Ruth! Haven't seen ya all day! You said you were sick so I just wanted to check up on how you were feeling. How's the time home? Alice: Oh, hey Ben. I haven't been feeling too well, no. The only thing keeping me conscious is this ice pack on my head. Meyers: Oh, man, I'm sorry to hear that, Ruth. Y'know, I've been thinking about doing something after work with you. Maybe we could go out to dinner or something? There's this new pizza pl- Alice: Ben, you've asked me this question four times this week. I know you're excited about it but give me some time, okay? I've already bothered Jack about it and- Meyers: Jack? That piece- 5 second silence. Meyers: Nevermind. How is Jack, anyway? I've heard that you guys are getting married soon, yeah? Alice: Uh, yes. The wedding is next month. Why do you ask? Meyers: Oh, nothing. Yeah, uh, Jack…a nice guy you got there, huh? Anyways, about the branding change: guess what the new name is gonna be! Alice: What is it, Ben? Meyers: The Kangaroos! The Krazy Kangaroos, officially. You said you liked kangaroos, right? I bothered the school board about it, I contacted the right people, yada yada yada. I was really getting sick and tired of the whole "Tasmanian Devil" thing. It did nothing for us, honestly. "Peace, Freedom, Devils"? What kind of psycho decided upon that trash, eh? Our marching band isn't even matching up to Panorama. I wish we had more funding so- Alice: Do you want my honest opinion, Ben? Meyers: Uh-sure! Alice: That branding is god awful. And I know what you're trying to do. You've been trying to act nice just so you can get far too close for my comfort. I'm engaged. I don't want you. Please, can you quit? Meyers: What are you talking about? Alice: Ben, I can see you staring at my breasts every time we have meetings. That's the only reason why you make meetings, anyway. Just to see me. It's not just me you've done this to, either. You've pulled this with Amy, Ren, Julie4, must I go on? I can hear your disgusting conversations about me with people who want nothing to do with you. People are quitting because of you. We can't keep hiring new people who will leave within a month because you keep hitting on absolutely any female you see. Nobody likes it, stop. 10 second silence. Alice: I'm not sick, Ben. I called in sick because I needed a break from you. You're making everyone's lives hell. Just please stop. Do you not have a wife? What is it, Rose? Isn't that her name? Meyers: Fuck you, Ruth. Everything about you is trash. I shouldn't have let you anywhere near this damn job and now you want to try to destroy my career? Is that what you really want, you piece of shit? All I wanted was to have dinner- Alice: No, that's not all you wanted. Meyers: Would you just shut your fucking trap for a second? I am so sick of you. How come you'll give that douchebag Jack whatever he wants but you can't spare me some time?! Alice: You're drunk. Hang up now and spare yourself the embarrassment next time I come into work. Meyers: Oh, you won't be coming into work; not while I'm there. You're fired. Alice: You're a narcissistic alcoholic, Ben. Get help. Meyers: Fu- <End recording, 09/12/1943, 9:48 PM> Following this, Alice began working for Panorama Community College. Addendum 7499.05 09/15/1943 Incident Summary The 09/15/1943 Incident (abrv. 7499.05 Incident) was an event that initially commenced when Benjamin Meyers left his residence immediately following Addendum 7499.04. MTF Nova-1 ("The Watchers") were able to discover Meyers exiting his home roughly 10 minutes after his phonecall with Ruth Alice. Before leaving, Meyers was observed writing in the book found in Addendum 7499.04 and packing various items such as cloth bags, ropes, knives, the beartraps previously set down, and the cage of Tasmanian devils. The same day, the tracker on Meyers' car broke off due to him backing into a mailbox. Unable to locate Meyers, MTF Sydney-8 ("Midnight Visitors") and MTF Nova-1 ("The Watchers") were promptly dispatched to Meyers' neighborhood. MTF Sydney-8 investigated what Meyers wrote, and MTF Nova-1 spread across the neighborhood to locate his car. The log for this is as follows: 09/15/1943 Incident Exploration Log 1/2 Date: 09/12/1943 Exploration Teams: MTF Sydney-8 ("Midnight Visitors") | MTF Nova-1 ("The Watchers") Subject: Benjamin Meyers' Neighborhood Team Leads: SD-8 Crawford / NV-1 Joaquin Team Members: SD-8 Walker / SD-8 Navarro / SD-8 Sage | Various NV-1 Members [BEGIN LOG] SD-8 Crawford: Alright boys, it's time for Round 2. SD-8 Sage: Way too early for this shit. SD-8 Crawford: Lighten up, Sage. You only woke up 20 minutes ago. SD-8 Walker: Night shift's daily wonders. Site Command: SD-8, your radio should be separated from Nova-1's. Do you hear them at all? SD-8 Crawford: Nope. Site Command: Good. You should be able to hear Joaquin when he signals over both radios. He'll relay important info to you and your group. You'll do the same if needed. SD-8 Crawford: Gotcha. SD-8 Navarro: Copy, you mean? SD-8 Crawford: Shut up, Navarro, I'm the team lead here. Site Command: You'll engage after NV-1 does. Stay prepared for when they give the message. SD-8 Crawford: Copy that. SD-8 Walker: There you go. SD-8 Crawford: I'll shoot you too, Walker. SD-8 Sage: Good thing he lives in a quiet neighborhood. Makes my life a lot easier. SD-8 Navarro: The back door lock should already be picked from the last time we were here. Keep your guards up. SD-8 Crawford: We'll have to hurry over there, too. People are still awake. Stay quiet and I swear to god if any of you trip on a bottle of tequila, you're giving me 200 pushups when we get back. SD-8 Sage: Sure thing, boss. Radio statics. NV-1 Joaquin: NV-1 is in position. Engaging now, over. NV-1 Joaquin's message cuts off. SD-8 Crawford: Well, shit. Here we go. Engage now, hurry. SD-8 scurries to Meyers' home and successfully opens the back door. MTF Sydney-8 entering Benjamin Meyers' home during the 09/15/1943 incident. (SD-8 Crawford center, SD-8 Navarro left.) SD-8 Crawford: Quick, move in. SD-8 Navarro: Don't mean to point out the obvious but watch for bottles. Chances are this guy hasn't cleaned up his house. SD-8 Walker: We don't know his whereabouts yet, so we might wanna hurry up checking the house. SD-8 Sage: We don't need to check the house. He hasn't pulled any shady shit anywhere other than in his basement. We just have to make sure the devils don't break out of their cage and we're golden. SD-8 Crawford: NV-1 will send the signal once they've found 'em. Don't need to worry about how quickly we're going, that only leads to problems and stress. He's not gonna pop up out of nowhere and start attacking us or something. If he does, that's what we have guns for. SD-8 Walker: Roger. SD-8 Crawford: Follow my lead. Help me break these planks off the door. SD-8 swiftly breaks the planks and locks off the basement door. SD-8 Crawford: Good. We all have our RAZARs5 on? SD-8 Navarro: Got it. SD-8 Walker: Yup. SD-8 Crawford: Sage? SD-8 Sage: Uh-yeah, got it. SD-8 Crawford: Alrighty, then. Get out your tranquilizers. We're gonna shoot the sons of bitches once we clear the basement. Walker, watch our backs, will ya? SD-8 Walker: Roger. SD-8 moves down the basement but quickly stops. SD-8 Crawford: Wait, something new. SD-8 Sage: What is it? SD-8 Navarro: He set up beartraps. They're at the front of the stairs and also might be around the rest of the basement. SD-8 Crawford: I'll kick them across, then. Stay up here 'til I say it's clear. SD-8 Crawford steps towards the last stair and kicks the contraptions across the basement floor. SD-8 Crawford: Shit, they're already starting to make noise. It's clear, get down here! SD-8 hurries down the stairs and tranquilizes the Tasmanian devils. SD-8 Walker: Okay, cool. Now that we don't have to worry about that mess, this place doesn't look like it's changed much. SD-8 Sage: I'm assuming you didn't see the several beartraps set around this basement and also the refrigerator that collapsed on the floor. There's ants and beetles everywhere, man. I'm not much of a bug kinda guy so I'm happy I have this gear on or else I'd be out of this room by now. SD-8 Crawford: Yeah, well, you're just a big baby, Sage. But check this out: SD-8 Crawford points to the cage. SD-8 Crawford: You guys see the big dents and stuff all around the cage? Pieces of glass are in the cage too, probably cut the poor beasts up. This doesn't look like it can hold up much longer. He must've gotten comfy abusing the poor things. SD-8 Navarro: What did he write in the book? SD-8 Crawford: Shit, I forgot about that. SD-8 Sage: It has an address on here. "Ruth's Address: ████ ██████ Street. I will kill her for you, my superior." SD-8 Walker: Wait, is that it? SD-8 Sage: There's just a bunch of scribbling after that. SD-8 Crawford: Wait, fuck! SD-8 Crawford signals over both radios. SD-8 Crawford: I think we've found where he's going. It's-uh-████ ██████ Street. Says it in this book. NV-1 Joaquin: Roger that, on our way. SD-8 Crawford ends the signal. SD-8 Crawford: Well. I guess we know where he's headed. Command, does Nova-1 need any assistance on this guy? Site Command: You're far closer to Ruth's home than the majority of Nova-1 is. At the moment, only 2 are nearby her house. SD-8 Crawford: Damn. Okay, uh, we need a ride there. Site Command: Sending a few from Nova-1 to pick you up now. It should only take a few minutes. SD-8 Crawford: Roger, on our way out now. Alright, now we're in a rush. We gotta put the locks back on the door, move the beartraps back, and be outside in a few minutes. Let's move. SD-8 Navarro: Copy. In 3 minutes, SD-8 is capable of completing the aforementioned set tasks. The NV-1 vehicle sent by Site Command makes it to SD-8's position on time. [END LOG] While progressing towards Alice's home, SD-8 and NV-1 reported noticing Meyers' vehicle parked on the side of a nearby street. Meyers was not seen in the vehicle, however, and was assumed to have directly cut through the woodlands by where the car was situated in an attempt to shorten the length between him and Alice's home. Analysis of Meyers' automobile after the Addendum 7499.05 exhibited nothing of use. Within several minutes, SD-8 and NV-1 arrived at Alice's home. Surrounding the area, both forces were able to locate Meyers peeking through the backdoor window. During this period, Site Command notified both groups that Alice's husband was absent from the premise on account of night shift work. Meyers seemed to have acknowledged this fact and, in accordance, shattered the glass of the window to enter Alice's residence. SD-8 was ordered to promptly close in on the area while NV-1 was on the lookout for feasible events taking place on the outside. The log for SD-8s engagement precedes as such: 09/15/1943 Incident Exploration Log 2/2 Date: 09/12/1943 Exploration Teams: MTF Sydney-8 ("Midnight Visitors") | Subject: Ruth Alice's home Team Leads: SD-8 Crawford Team Members: SD-8 Walker / SD-8 Navarro / SD-8 Sage [BEGIN LOG] SD-8 Crawford: Shit! Close in, quick! SD-8 Navarro: Activate your RAZARs. SD-8 Crawford: Sage, I'm gonna have you armed and ready to fire. Rest of us, we're gonna stay back and make decisions from there. We're gonna have to strictly go off of gut feeling and instinct from training. SD-8 Sage: Roger that. SD-8 Walker: Y'know sometimes I really wish I chose the dayshift. SD-8 Navarro: "Night shift's daily wonders" my ass. SD-8 Crawford: Looks like he set the beartraps right in front of the hallway and the cage by a door, which I'm not quite sure if it's the basement door or not. If I had money to bet, he's down the hall. Faint stumbling is heard in the background audio, followed by a sudden, violent scream. SD-8 Crawford: Yep! That's definitely where he is! Jump in, now! SD-8 jumps through the shattered window and into Alice's dining room. SD-8 Crawford: Hide behind something, anything. We might get lucky and waste this son of a bitch tonight. SD-8 Walker: That's if he's not already wasted right now. SD-8 Sage: Funny joke, Walker. SD-8 Navarro: Scram! Now! SD-8 Crawford and SD-8 Navarro hide in a close position behind the dining room table. SD-8 Sage ducks behind a couch in the accessible living room. SD-8 Walker opts to lay flat on the floor next to the kitchen cabinets. Meyers is seen dragging Alice, who has a tied cloth bag around her head, and throwing her to the floor. Muffled screams stem from underneath the bag. Meyers: Your screams mean absolutely fucking nothing! Meyers rattles the cage of the Tasmanian devils in an obvious attempt to trigger them. Meyers: Do you hear them? Listen to them well, Ruth. I've starved 'em for days for this moment. They're just as excited as I am! SD-8 Crawford cautiously begins to move while avoiding noise. He signals SD-8 Navarro to follow his lead. Meyers: You have a similar layout to my house, heh. I wonder if your basement looks the same, too. Meyers approaches the basement door and opens it. Meyers then stomps the cage and kicks it towards Ruth. Meyers: (cackling) Loud, ain't it!?! Meyers grabs Alice by the cloth bag and lifts her off the ground. Taking her by the neck with his forearm, he steps towards the basement. SD-8 Crawford and SD-8 Navarro move from their spaces and aim their rifles directly at Meyers. SD-8 Crawford: Hands up where I can see them! Meyers instantly turns to SD-8 Crawford in surprise. SD-8 Walker and SD-8 Sage move out from their positions, with their guns still pointed at Meyers. SD-8 Navarro: If you don't want to be dragged onto the ground and have every piece of bone in your arms shattered, I suggest you put your fucking hands up and get down. Meyers: Who are you? SD-8 Sage: The last people you'll ever see outside of prison, now follow instructions before we laser your ass back to the stone age. Meyers looks around the room momentarily. In one sudden move, he crouches to open the cage. However, Meyers is shot in the shoulder by SD-8 Sage before he can entirely open it. Meyers falls backward and tumbles down the basement stairs. Alice covers her ears and fearfully screams. SD-8 Crawford: Don't worry, Ruth. He's gone now. Alice: How do you know my name!? SD-8 Crawford: Because I have superpowers. SD-8 Walker: You need to stop. SD-8 Crawford removes the cloth bag from Alice's head. SD-8 Crawford: If it makes you feel any better, you're not gonna remember any of this at all by tomorrow morning. Alice: I'm confused…who are you people!? SD-8 Sage: Don't worry about it. You're never gonna see us again after tonight, and it's not like you'll even remember us to begin with. We are nobody to you. But we will remember you. You are someone to us. SD-8 Walker: God, I feel like I'm getting the spins. SD-8 Crawford: Navarro, with me. We're gonna take him. Alice glances at the cage. Before SD-8 Crawford and SD-8 Navarro enter the basement, Alice flings the cage of Tasmanian devils down the stairs, which bursts open upon impact. Alice then locks the door and closes it. SD-8 Crawford: Jesus Christ! SD-8 Sage: What the fuck?! SD-8 Walker: Wait, what just happened? Meyers is enveloped and torn apart by the pack of rabid animals. His screeches of pain are present in the background of the audio footage. SD-8 Crawford: What the hell? W- 3 second pause. SD-8 Crawford: Well shit. SD-8 Walker: That was tragic, to say the least. SD-8 Sage: I'm glad I got to be the one to shoot him. SD-8 Crawford: You should be, Sage. I'm proud of all of you, I really am. You guys have come a long way in training and I'm genuinely happy to say I'm your captain. SD-8 Navarro: It's been an experience, captain. SD-8 Walker: Hoorah. SD-8 Sage: Always ready for more. SD-8 Crawford: Now, with that out the way, McDonald's or Hungry Jack's? It's a little different, y'know, since we're in Australia, but I could go for any food at all right now and those just happen to be the cheapest options. Alice: Sir? SD-8 Crawford: Oh, right. [END LOG] Alice was registered Class-B amnestics following Addendum 7499.05. After Addendum 7499.05, SMCC was officially shut down and SCP-7499 was subsequently declared Neutralized. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7499" by DrIrrelevance, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7499. 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: Marching Band in the Grand Centenary Parade, Brisbane, 12 September 1959 Author: Queensland State Archives License: Public Domain Source Link: flickr Name: 2018-033/71 Author: Community Archives License: Public Domain Source Link: flickr Name: HMR2-09-06b Author: Deseronto Archives License: Public Domain Source Link: flickr Name: (Portrait of man in suit) Author: Tudor Washington Collins License: Public Domain Source Link: Wiki Commons Name: Urban Training Author: Marines License: Public Domain Source Link: Wiki Commons Any edits made to the images shown above were made by this article's author, DrIrrelevance. Footnotes 1. See Description paragraph 5. 2. See Addendum 7499.04. 3. Another local community college in Brisbane. 4. Presumably all of which worked for SMCC. 5. Term for Foundation-provided night vision visors |
SCP-7500 | neutralized | Tstaffor Author Page | Podcast | Feeling Lucky? Tstaffor's Best of: SCP-6557 - Annihilation From a Cross Across Time SCP-5846 - The One-Stop Shop SCP-6547 - Worlds Within Worlds Within Worlds… SCP-7500 pictured smiling. Item #: SCP-7500 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7500 is buried in the Caheragh Old Cemetery. Description: SCP-7500 was Donovan Hanlan, an Australian male of Irish heritage with the ability to subconsciously manipulate probability. Whenever SCP-7500 was in a situation with multiple possible outcomes, the outcome that SCP-7500 would deem to be the best option occurred. Due to this effect, SCP-7500's health did not degrade during its time in Foundation custody. The plaid vest SCP-7500 wore at all times had a four-leafed clover pinned to it. This is suspected to be the source of its powers, although it shows no anomalous properties when utilized by anyone other than SCP-7500. During its containment, SCP-7500 refused all requests to remove the jacket. Addendum 7500.1 — Associated Phenomena: After records of the same individual dating back to 1754 were discovered, Foundation agents were dispatched to record SCP-7500's daily life to check for any abnormal incidents. Date: 05/23/2002 Location: Melbourne, Australia [SCP-7500 is walking down the street when it encounters a young woman selecting bananas from a sidewalk corner store.] SCP-7500: Try these ones, lass. [It selects a bunch of ripe bananas without looking and hands them to the woman.] Woman: Okay, thanks? [SCP-7500 then smiles and continues walking.] Date: 05/28/2002 Location: The Crown Melbourne [SCP-7500 plays a slot machine, winning 1.3 million dollars.] Date: 06/13/2002 Location: Castlemaine1 [SCP-7500 and its husband,2 Oliver, are walking down the street] Oliver: See, a trip isn't too stressful! SCP-7500: A day trip an hour away from home is a lot different from going back to ol' Irelan, Oliver. Oliver: I know that. I'm just so sure they'd be excited to meet you! SCP-7500: I know, it's just a worry I've got in the back of me 'ead. Oliver: I would come with you. You aren't alone in this, Don. [SCP-7500 hangs its head, looking down to notice a quarter on the sidewalk.] Oliver: Well look at that, a lucky penny! SCP-7500: Heh, it's a quarter, Oliver. Oliver: Still, it's a good omen. Date: 07/18/2002 Location: Melbourne [SCP-7500 is approaching a crosswalk. Agent Harrison, attempting to trail it, approaches too closely and is noticed by SCP-7500.] SCP-7500: Allow me t' get that for you! [SCP-7500 attempts to press the crosswalk button, but is unable to activate the device.] Agent Harrison: Uhh, it's alright, I'll just get the button. SCP-7500: That you ain't! I might not be hitting this button, but that means you won't be either, son. Agent Harrison: I'd really like to cross the stre— [A 3-car collision occurs in the middle of the intersection.] SCP-7500: Ah, there she is! I just had to press in the center there. Date: 02/27/2003 Location: The Cup and Bean3 Barista: Donovan! Nice to see you. It's been a while, hasn't it? SCP-7500: That it has, Charlotte, that it has. I've just had… a lot on me mind. I'd like the usual. Barista: Well, it must be your lucky day, because it's the first time since you were last here that the hot chocolate's on special. [As the barista is preparing the drink, the whipped cream can gets stuck, causing her to add twice the normal amount of whipped cream.] Barista: Oliver told me you're headed out to Ireland tomorrow. I'll miss chatting with you, mate. SCP-7500: Thank ya Charlotte, I've appreciated er'y one of our talks. Date: 02/28/2003 Location: Tullamarine Airport [SCP-7500 and its husband enter the airport.] Oliver: I know you're confident in your… abilities, but I still think we should have booked our tickets. SCP-7500: Don't ye worry Oliver, I'm sure it will all turn out alright. [Both approach the desk.] Receptionist: Hello, are you wanting to check in your baggage today? Oliver: Actually, we're hoping to book our flight with you. Receptionist: And where is it you'll be traveling? Oliver: Cork International Airport. Receptionist: You seem to be in luck! There are just two tickets left for a direct flight from MEL to ORK. Oliver: We'll take them! SCP-7500: Actually, looking outside, it seems a storm's rollin' in. Due to the sudden emergence of a storm, Foundation agents confirmed SCP-7500's anomalous abilities and were able to apprehend it before it boarded its flight. Addendum 7500.2 — Interview Logs: The following is an excerpt from SCP-7500's weekly therapy sessions. Dr. Summers: Good evening, Donovan.4 How has your day been so far? SCP-7500: I guess it's been okay. Same ol', same old. Dr. Summers: Now, it's been a while since we talked about the day you were… the day you arrived here. I'm correct in thinking you were headed to Ireland to visit your descendants? SCP-7500: Aye, that I was. It was gon'ta be my first time back there in what'as it been? A hundred years or so? I spose I wasn't too ready for the trip. Dr. Summers: Don, did you cause that storm? SCP-7500: Honestly, I can't tell ya. These powers, I'm not in control of 'em. Things just sort of… turn out well. It should've cleared up. We should've been able to make it to ol' Irelan. Dr. Summers: Don, did you want to go to your homeland? SCP-7500: That be a troublin' thought don't it? It's not that I don't want t' see them. It's just… it's been so long. The following interview was conducted four years after initial containment, ten minutes before the cessation of SCP-7500's anomalous properties. SCP-7500: Thanks for takin' the time to talk with me. Dr. Kelp: Any time, Donovan. SCP-7500: I've had a lot of time to think since ye lot locked me up in here. I think I've made my decision. Keppler, have you ever been in a moment of your life where you know you only had two options? Dr. Kelp: I can't say that I have, no. SCP-7500: Aye, a wee lad like yourself probably hasn't. Dr. Kelp: I'm 56. SCP-7500: That's beside the point. I've come to a decision about this place, doctor. I need to leave. Dr. Kelp: I'm sorry Don, but you know we can't do that. You're an anomaly. Anomalies don't really… leave this place. SCP-7500: I'm mighty aware of that. There don't be anything normal about me anymore. I've had my time. I know how old I should look, but… I miss my husband. You'd let me leave if I didn't have the powers, wouldn't you? Dr. Kelp: In all likelihood, but I don't see why that's relevant. SCP-7500: I won't be around much longer now. If I don't make it long enough, I beg ya, tell Ollie I love him. [SCP-7500 stood up, leaving its jacket hanging on the chair. The interview concluded, and SCP-7500 returned to its chamber without incident; the jacket was placed in temporary storage until required again.] The following day, tests performed on SCP-7500 determined its anomalous properties to be neutralized. Due to its cooperative nature, and the rapid decay of its body due to the cessation of anomalous intervention, SCP-7500 was allowed to leave containment with Foundation escort. SCP-7500 flew to Ireland and reunited with its 7th-great-grandchildren.5 Two days after this, it expired. Its husband Oliver buried it alongside all previous generations of the Hanlan family in the Caheragh Old Cemetery with the clover from its jacket planted over its grave. Footnotes 1. A small town outside Melbourne. 2. According to courthouse records from both Ireland and Australia, this was SCP-7500's 17th spouse. 3. A local coffee shop. 4. Use of SCP-7500's given name was allowed due to it helping SCP-7500's mental state. 5. Although SCP-7500 was not allowed to disclose to them this relation due to its normally impossible nature. Porridge □ More by Tstaffor □ ▣ More by Tstaffor ▣ Tstaffor's Author page! If you like my writing, check out my Podcast with Luxaiko! The Scip Squad Podcast Hub SCPs SCP-6868 Rating: 412 SCP-7500 Rating: 313 SCP-6552 Rating: 166 SCP-3837 Rating: 141 SCP-6557 Rating: 137 SCP-6558 Rating: 96 SCP-5722 Rating: 94 SCP-6547 Rating: 94 SCP-5847 Rating: 93 SCP-5846 Rating: 92 SCP-7979 Rating: 74 SCP-6554 Rating: 71 SCP-6226 Rating: 70 SCP-6067 Rating: 64 SCP-1551-EX Rating: 52 SCP-6553 Rating: 50 SCP-555-J Rating: 47 SCP-6551 Rating: 39 SCP-6588 Rating: 37 SCP-5846-J Rating: 27 Tales Log of Non-Anomalous Items Rating: 209 SCP-173 But... it's a Collaborative Log Rating: 178 SCP-173 But... Rating: 165 Mfw Rating: 101 Goat VR? More like Goat VeRy bad game! Rating: 78 Log of Non-Anomalous Items II: Sequels are Always Worse Rating: 75 The Knights of Wonder Rating: 37 The Unhuman Experience: Former Prime Minister Harold Holt Rating: 29 MZL-1915 Rating: 25 GOI Formats SPC-3008 Rating: 302 Herman Fuller Presents: Shapes the Clown Rating: 14 Hubs Format Screw Hub Rating: 139 The Scip Squad Podcast Hub Rating: 44 Art An ASCII Egg That Kills You For No Reason Rating: 40 Bubbly Bobby the ASCII Ducky Rating: 40 ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7500" by Tstaffor, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-7500. 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: smile.png Name: Happy people live longer Author: Marg License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: https://www.flickr.com/photos/gebala/1085754525/ |
SCP-8501 | ticonderoga | Item#: 8501 Level3 Containment Class: keter Secondary Class: ticonderoga Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: critical link to memo SCP-8501 Special Containment Procedures: Containment of SCP-8501 has currently proven to be impossible despite escalating containment attempts. Former MTF Gamma-35 "Pavement Scrapers" is to be reorganized into Research Task Force Lambda-42 "Isekai Trash" headed by researchers Thomas Yaltz & Dr. Jasper Coldsmith. RTF-42 "Isekai Trash" is to be stationed at a Site-64 lab annex containing the Coldsmith-Yaltz Extra-planar Instance Manifestation Detector (CYEIMD) to record instances of SCP-8501 manifestations and those affected. Description: SCP-8501 is an extra-planar entity that to date has always taken the form of a type of vehicle belonging to the "Isuzu Elf" brand of trucks manufactured and sold in Japan. The most common form is usually the sixth-generation hi-cab box truck though it has used variants in the series of vehicles such as vans, different styles of trucks, and an ambulance variant. It is currently unknown why it prefers to manifest in this form. Upon manifestation of an instance of SCP-8501, a unique burst of Akiva Radiation and Elan-Vital Energy (EVE) will split apart a dimensional membrane from which the entity emerges. The aforementioned CYEIMD has been developed to locate these instances. Addendum.8501.1: Discovery: This entity was discovered on 11/17/20██ by researchers Dr. Jasper Coldsmith & Thomas Yaltz upon a "work-vacation" experiment, involving Yaltz's inherent extra-dimensional travel abilities to travel in-dimension, in Akihabara, Japan. Equipment utilized in their research unexpectedly picked up readings from something else, upon which investigation revealed the existence of this anomaly. Discovery Video Log Transcript Date: 11/17/20██ Subject: Discovery of SCP-8501 Team Lead: Dr. Jasper Coldsmith Team Members: Researcher Thomas Yaltz [BEGIN LOG] Coldsmith: Alright. Recording devices activated and syncing telemetry to my shell. Coldsmith turns around to face Yaltz in civilian clothing, wearing clothes branded with various popular Japanese TV shows and cartoon characters. Yaltz is holding a handbook for translating basic phrases from English to Japanese. Yaltz: Hey, so magic is real, the Fae are a thing, and the ports - you know all that, right? Yaltz leans forward and speaks in a hushed voice. Yaltz: What if we just found Yōkai, man? Coldsmith: I'm… huh. You know, I don't recall what anomalies are in Japan. I'm sure if those are a thing, we must have documentation of them, right? Shit, are there any Nexuses in Japan? We should've done more research before taking our… testing here. An electronic tone with significant variances in pitch is audible. Coldsmith: Something is… moving from the detected breach instance. Pretty large. Let's head out, and don't forget the hotel keycard. Extraneous footage removed for brevity - see Full Transcript 8501-1. Yaltz and Coldsmith navigate to the area of interest. Coldsmith gestures for Yaltz to stop. Coldsmith: In a low voice Alright. We're coming up on something. Whatever it is is emanating a large amount of EVE, and something else. It's messing with my more esoteric sensors. Yaltz and Coldsmith turn a corner and walk into a residential zone. Camera footage spots an Isuzu Elf brand truck decelerating and stopping completely at a traffic light, which displays a "stop" signal. Yaltz: whispering in irritated tone Are you fucking kiddi- The traffic lights begin to erratically blink, displaying "stop", "slow", and "go" randomly. The truck's engine roars as it accelerates into the path of a pedestrian. The pedestrian is thrown down the road as a result of the collision. The vehicle turns and continues speeding down the street, out of Coldsmith's sensor view. As the truck hits the pedestrian, telemetry from the scanning equipment goes wild with fluctuations. Both personnel run to a nearby vending machine to covertly surveil and assess the situation. The camera zooms in and depicts a teenager, wearing the uniform of [DATA EXPUNGED] High School. A badly damaged smartphone and the remains of a water bottle are nearby. Coldsmith: Shit. Hold on. Coldsmith assesses the situation and approaches the corpse, his shell scanning the area ..Alright, got a copy of his phone data. Coldsmith gestures to Yaltz.Let's get out of here and put in an anonymous call to an ambulance. We should call work. What's the nearest site? Yaltz: Truck-Kun is real. Not what I expected to find today… I expected flavorful local food. [END LOG] Emergency services were anonymously called to the area. The victim's body was found to possess trace contamination by AKIVA Radiation and EVE in the area of termination and within 1 meter of the corpse until approximately 15 hours later. Coldsmith's sensor array reported a significant upward fluctuation in AKIVA energy and a dimensional rupture at the moment of impact. The remains were confirmed to be otherwise non-anomalous and within the baseline, cleared, and released to the family for funeral services. Cover story VM-DUI-32 disseminated and local CCTV systems wiped. Information from the victim's phone data has been used to seek a pattern in victims, and with knowledge of the anomaly's existence to help extrapolate past incidents. With data from other incidents, the following criteria for people that can or will be affected by the anomaly are as follows, note that not all are required: A fan of manga or anime, in particular of the "Isekai" fantasy genre. Suffering from depression. Isolation or distance from peers. Self-isolation from others. Feelings of being unfulfilled or of being disassociated with baseline society. Addendum.8501.2: Containment Attempts: The Coldsmith-Yaltz Extra-planar Instance Manifestation Detector (CYEIMD) has been constructed to better track the emergence of dimensional breaches from SCP-8501. Breaches are not instant but instead are built over a period ranging from days to weeks before a manifestation spawns forth. The closer to the time of emergence the stronger a secondary weaker signal is detected in the area belonging to the intended target. Utilizing this information and detection capability, Mobile Task Force Gamma-35 "Pavement Scrapers" has been organized to attempt to halt and contain instances of SCP-8501 manifestation. Containment Attempt #1 Location: Cedar Falls, Iowa Log: A manifestation was detected, and the target was confirmed as a student of the University of Northern Iowa. The university is put into lockdown under the cover story of a bomb threat scenario. Foundation agents proceed to take up place around the university and set up barricades dressed as local police. A dimensional breach is confirmed and the manifested truck maintains an irregular looping route through the area during the duration of the lockdown. Eventually, the lockdown is lifted after several days to maintain public order with Foundation agents remaining on site. The target is shadowed by agents and leaves campus only to be struck down by the manifestation despite efforts to curtail its travel path with appropriated local police cruisers. Afternotes: Did not expect the first manifestation since preparing to contain it to not be in Japan. A bit worrisome if it can manifest globally. - Dr. Coldsmith Containment Attempt #2 Location: Wellington, New Zealand Log: The breach was located with time to spare, the task force has set up several stronger barricades around the area under the guise of public works construction. A plainclothes squad has been assigned to oversee the target's safety. Reinforced concrete barricades and tire deflation devices were set up in positions immediately surrounding, and in the vicinity of, the dimensional rupture; the road surrounding the area was also purposefully damaged and made harder to navigate. The steel containment cube placed over the dimensional breach was visibly damaged from within; severe denting and buckling became visible before the structure was destroyed approximately 4 minutes later. The manifestation broke through at high velocity through the breach, shooting out through the blockades onto the damaged road and backup barricades. The manifestation drove over and past several rows of spike strips, and over an anti-vehicular landmine, without significant effect to vehicle performance. It then proceeds through several reinforced Jersey barriers with no visible deceleration; the forces required to destroy the barriers were significantly higher than what a truck of approximate design and mass could exert upon a barrier, even at the vehicle's top speed. Video of the incident shows that no significant damage was able to be inflicted upon the vehicle, with minor dents reforming and scorch marks from the landmine rapidly dissipating. The vehicle's tires did not appear to be affected in any way. The manifestation continued without interruption in tracking down the intended target, crashing through the front windows of a coffee shop, colliding with, and terminating, the target. Despite multiple bystanders being directly in the proximity of the collision, no injuries were recorded. The manifestation proceeded to retreat as if in a hit-and-run scenario before it was lost track of; no truck matching SCP-8501's appearance was found in the area. Afternotes: Not noted in the initial report but our sensors picked up an expenditure of EVE energy and spikes of Akiva Radiation flowing through the manifestation as it ripped through everything. An unstoppable force of magic and miracles. It should be noted that initial readings were higher than those upon discovery and last manifestation. The dimensional rupture was also present near the victim's corpse after the incident, notably a much smaller rupture. Speculation with the "mythos" of what SCP-8501 seems to be drawing from in popular culture here; it creates a breach its sending something through when it kills its victims. How big of a path do you need for a soul to travel through? - Dr. Coldsmith Extraneous logs redacted due to lack of new data Containment Attempt #13 Location: City of Rovaniemi, Finland Log: Breach detected as standard, higher energy output notwithstanding. Target located is a student at the Lapland University of Applied Sciences. Cover story ready for an internship with an accredited foundation cover facility with a doctor in their field; target escorted onto the bus with plainclothes agents heading to the planned extraction site. Bus joins with an armed escort convoy to a secured exfiltration landing zone in the nearby wilderness past the outskirts of the city. At this time, the manifestation bursts through barricades and obstructions erected around the breach location. Manifestation gains an abnormal amount of speed despite ongoing snow rendering roads unsuitable. Target is sedated for travel, appearance of truck headlights appear at the rear of the convoy despite generous head start and travel conditions. Convoy engages in a delaying firefight against the anomaly. Transport bus arrives at the exfiltration site minutes ahead, escorts transfer the sedated target onto a military transport helicopter, and take off is achieved. Despite the success of take off, anomaly manifestation appears nearby and proceeds to launch off a nearby hill at speed and collides with the rising helicopter. The target is terminated, and the helicopter is destroyed yet despite the circumstances the crew is found later in the wreckage safe among the snow drifts without major injury. Afternotes: Well, despite this action movie bullshit - no non-target fatalities were recorded and any injuries cannot be contributed to the anomaly's direct fault. Some convoy vehicles experienced difficulties and accidents during the suppressing activities earlier in the chase, though due to the weather and environment rather than direct assault. Fourteen deaths so far, and the readings grow steadily each time. During the pursuit, not much can hamper or make the anomaly sustain damage. However, our means have been mostly mundane so far. I could supply thaumaturgically enabled barriers and the like, though what kind of backlash they'd generate when dealing with a seemingly unstoppable object might not be worth it. - Dr. Coldsmith Extraneous logs redacted due to lack of new data Addendum 8501.2.1: Containment Update: Due to the ongoing failure to contain SCP-8501 and in regards to its nature, further containment attempts will cease due to increasing resource expenditures and comparative cost analysis against its manifestations. Even without minimum cover-up procedures, SCP-8501 seems to lessen the impact of its victims' deaths; family & friends mourn and move on with their lives without any lingering issues. These amnestic properties also seem to have been why we have not discovered it sooner, as what is it on the surface besides another tragic accident with people having to move on from it? Mobile Task Force Gamma-35 "Pavement Scrapers" is to be reorganized into Research Task Force Lambda-42 "Isekai Trash" which will be headed by Dr. Coldsmith & Researcher Yatlz. The focus will move toward the study and recording of associated phenomena such as the dimensional breaches left behind upon a victim's death. Addendum.8501.3: Dimensional Studies & Planar Travel Each manifestation of SCP-8501 has two things in common always: its beginning breach into our dimension and a smaller breach left behind upon termination of the victim. At the moment it is believed some amount of energy is expended from SCP-8501's Akiva and EVE reserves to mend its entry wound into our world, and another smaller burst to send something smaller outside of our dimension to somewhere else. Using a stronger and more focused CYEIMD device we have been able to map out the other side of both of these breaches. The former breach, the entry, shows movement just outside the barrier of our dimension meanwhile the second, the death breach, shows a narrow and rapid trajectory not just outside our own but through the in-between dimensional space into others. Utilizing my abilities which have been trained and enhanced over the years with some thaumaturgical ability I will attempt to traverse through the secondary breaches to where we presume the souls of the victims are sent. -Researcher Thomas Yatlz For ease of reference, this is a list of equipment granted to Researcher Yatlz for his travel: One Coldsmith Multi-planar Positioning Device (CMPD) A small pouch of various lab-grown jewels (for trade purposes) A small pouch of gold & silver coins designed after the Roman Aureus and Denarius (for trade purposes) A SIG Sauer P229 .357 handgun with several additional magazines Multiple sturdy travel clothes for various environments A leather satchel "Bag of Holding" A Survival knife with a sheath and belt. One Hi-Def digital camera One week of standard Foundation MREs A set of waterproof binoculars An amulet enchanted with translation runes Various misc. items JP-0626-HF42 Description: I arrived in a forest and wandered around for a few hours before I came across a road being built by large pig-like creatures. My best guess here is more Japanese fantasy-style orcs; not green-skinned and savage looking like in Western media. They gave me directions to their city in the middle of this forest and I arrived about an hour later. The streets were pretty populous with a large variation in races among the people. I've witnessed several fantasy races, ranging from what some might consider standard and those of more monstrous origins. Their city architecture was a mixture of Western medieval and traditional Japanese. I've spotted several idols and shrines littering the streets and buildings of what appears to be their deity, some sort of slime god. Personal Log: I continued to travel around this city for a while and was able to get some of my coins and gems converted to their local currency. After sightseeing for some time I think it's safe to say this is where our victim ended up due to the extreme similarity or influence of Japanese culture here. Asking around it turns out a lot of the local cuisine was introduced by their ruling god. They have potato chips. Afternotes: Retrieved several items of note for study including local currency, a small statuette of their deity, and local goods. Some of the produce obtained for the study is from local farmlands said to be "blessed by the dryads". US-0826-URBF55 Description: I am in a Chicago of all places, and a pretty bad-looking neighborhood. It seems to be the middle of the night and I've decided to wander the streets. Personal Log: Ran into a fight between some vampire ghoul-looking thing and an absolute unit of a man. The guy was like seven feet in a goddamn duster of all things throwing fireballs at the thing while wielding a large revolver in his other hand. Afternotes: Triggered the emergency recall, wandering an alternate Chicago at night is already bad enough without giant wizards fighting vampire monsters in the mix. Our Chicago doesn't have those problems, right? ENG-1126-ISMI77 Description: I have landed in some plains near a road, and proceeded to follow it for some time before coming across a town. Typical European medieval architecture, a mixture of human races and I guess the terminology would be demi-human: humanoids with bestial features. Heard some talk about some "men in green" saving some villagers and sticking it to the empire we're in. Traveled out of town towards the village mentioned only to encounter a truly strange sight on the road: military humvees. Personal Log: The Humvees drive by me only to stop and pull a full reverse. Turns out the Japanese Self-Defense Force is here and they picked me up thinking I snuck into this world somehow since I look and I quote "like an American tourist". I mean, it's not far off. Thankfully was able to convince them I was with the Public Security Intelligence Agency and not an American spy. Their local Foundation branch in that reality covered my ass and I was able to get some more information. Guess some permanent portal opened up in the middle of a city and it led to this fantasy-type world. I also heard they got to kill some dragons with fighter jets. Afternotes: Brought back some local souvenirs I was able to pick up, local currency once more, and traded with some of the JSDF encamped on that world for some of this reality's manga, they got some stuff still going on that ended in our reality. We're sure that our Japan doesn't have this, right? NZ-0227-SCI018 Description: I land in an artificial environment of what I would call modern or futuristic make, definitely not older or fantasy. After wandering through some corridors I end up on what seems to be a main thoroughfare and figure out I'm on a space station orbiting some alien planet. Pretty sci-fi-type space, some alien humanoids and humans. English is as ever "galactic common" it seems so didn't even need the translation magic. The gems and coins weren't really valuable currency here but managed to trade my sidearm for some decent money, old earth ballistic weapons are collector items. Explored the locale for a few days, regular food is expensive and a luxury item while mass-produced consumables and nutrient pastes are the go-to. Personal Log: Did some research on their equivalent of the internet. Pretty widespread interstellar travel with multiple nations throughout the stars. Always wanted to try astronaut food again after the SCP-5775 stuff. Saw some pretty impressive, and huge, space ships. My familiarity with Klingon culture helped me out with some overly aggressive warrior race of panther-like aliens. Afternotes: Grabbed some space tube food for examination, some of their day-to-day electronics like a data pad, and managed to acquire a small laser gun. Can we work on reverse-engineering that gun? I'd love one of those. US-0527-SCIF502 Description: Landed in the middle of a recruitment drive of some sort. I may have been drafted to fight an alien menace in space. Got sent through a basic training course, given some armor with a fancy cape at the end of it. Armed with a very large but questionably designed gun, shoved onto some space transport. I guess I'm off to fight the Insectoid Menace? Why can't they just use bug spray? Personal Log: I guess this is a case of alien intelligence versus humanity. The insects have organic space travel and move through planets like locusts. Hung around for a while, and treated it like I was playing one of those VR games. Initiated an emergency return shift after my unit got overwhelmed and I may have cast chained lightning on a horde of giant praying mantises. Don't need to explain that to these crazy xenophobes. Afternotes: Anyone got some bug spray and a fly swatter? GER-1126-FSB18 Description: Landed in a woodland outside of a walled city, the shortest walk to civilization so far probably on one of these fantasy realms. No issues entering the city, was able to pay the traveler's tax at the gate and got directed to where I could get a currency exchange. I'd say this city was pretty par for the course compared to other realms like it, found an interesting back alley tavern to stay at and I figure I'll see what information I can gather and the areas specialties to bring back for study. Personal Log: I found "The Hoppers Inn" with a sign under this sign pointing "here" to the door. I should've known better in hindsight. Entering this inn I was greeted with great cheer and a call for another round, quite friendly at first glance. Upon second glance I could see only me, myself, and I gathered around multiple tables. Turns out some version of me from this realm set up this inn and entertains ourselves often. Grabbing a meal and a drink, my fellow fellows asked me what "class" I was, and I am proud to say I am one of the few "Wizards" among them gathered there. Afternotes: Pretty sure one of me spiked my drink, that hangover was not natural. File Update Available! Update Loaded. Addendum.8501.4: Termination Attempt: To: tenpics.46etis|htimsdlocj#tenpics.46etis|htimsdlocj From: O5 Council Subject: SCP-8501 It has been brought to our attention from your ongoing efforts in recording readings from SCP-8501 that it will soon crossover the Type Black threshold, we are sending him over as outlined in your proposal. Operation "No New Gods" is approved. Operation: No New Gods: Coldsmith here, the operation is simple and sweet. I have constructed a thaumaturgical enhanced vehicle designed with force-projection shielding to repel any incoming force/energy in addition to being supplemented with anti-belief and banishment runes embedded throughout its frame. Needless to say untested and experimental, also extremely outside of my field of expertise. The plan is to redirect SCP-8501's own Akiva and EVE when it collides with the vehicle into deleting itself from reality. This action combined with some thought control over the internet to make the idea of a "Truck-Kun" from popular media looked down upon should hopefully do it. There are two issues though. One, we need a source of powerful entropy onboard to power it and help delete something from baseline reality. The second issue is that I'll need to possess the vehicle to help regulate the thaumaturgical aspects. The vehicle will be transported and set up in the Bonneville Salt Flats awaiting the next manifestation of SCP-8501. A team will be on stand-by to rapidly exfiltrate the manifestation's target before it completes its dimensional breach. Upon the successful baiting of the manifestation to the Salt Flats, Dr. Gerald will take his seat in the experimental vehicle and turn on the engine. I will possess the vehicle and regulate its thaumaturgical workings including a set of boosters. We will then both proceed to, at speed, head off SCP-8501. With luck, its power will end it. Exploration Video Log Transcript Date: [REDACTED] Subject: SCP-8501 Termination Attempt Team Lead: Dr. Jasper Coldsmith Team Members: Dr. Gerald [BEGIN LOG] Gerald: You know, this is a nice car! I appreciate it they never let me drive anything anymore, and on the Salt Lakes? What a treat, how fast can this go? Coldsmith: You.. you were briefed for this right? Did you read the operation files? Gerald: Yeah a demolition derby with some magic truck right? That's what Clef told me. Coldsmith: Fuck. Sensors loudly beep throughout the vehicle Coldsmith: Alright, that's our guy. Start the car…. gently. Gerald inputs the keys and turns the car on, revving the engine loudly Gerald: Haha! Gerald yanks back the parking brake and starts burning out Coldsmith: Alright, got visuals on my front camera. They've just entered the flats heading for us. We're between them and the target. Hit it. They proceed to speed off, thaumaturgical boosters igniting in the back as rune work embedded throughout the car begins illuminating brightly Gerald: WOOOOOOO! An almost transparent barrier can be seen emanating from the front of the vehicle. Behind the vehicle, energy starts building up as electricity arcs leaving behind a trail of fire Opposite them, the manifestation of SCP-8501 starts glowing brightly, a pure and blinding light encasing it as rainbow energy trails off its tires. At the collision point a large burst of energy, accompanied by a sonic boom, erupts from a now-obscured debris storm. Above in the sky, a rainbow aurora forms as the sky turns darker than night. A roar of metal and a monstrous grinding is heard as something shoots through the debris cloud. SCP-8501roars its engine causing tremors throughout the area. Telemetry lost from the experimental vehicle. [END LOG] ERROR: New Footage Retrieved. Playing Footage. [BEGIN LOG] A tunnel of rainbow energy is shown as the camera from the experimental vehicle flickers on. Coldsmith: Forcing stuff back together with what energy I have left. Did that fucker use our banishment runes against us? Gerald: I don't know what that means but this is trippy. I've never lost a demo derby before. Do I keep driving towards the light at the end of this tunnel? Coldsmith: What li- Vehicle exits tunnel of energy as the scream of wind rips through the audio recording. Coldsmith: Fuck, are we falling? Gerald: Don't worry I've… crashed a plane before! I got this. Coldsmith: This isn't a fucking plane! Gerald: Don't worry, I got this. I can drive anything. I see some lights over there, I'll aim for that. As the vehicle somehow shifts in the air diving a flashing of lights can be picked up in the camera footage coming from an area showcasing significant damage. Camera zooms in revealing a group of people engaging in close combat with an entity twice their size wearing a cloak of dark red fire and shadows. They continue falling through the sky crashing into the aforementioned entity, sheering through its upper torso and grinding it into the ground as the chassis of the car slams and groans before sliding to a halt. Gerald: See, I told you I could make that parking spot. Gerald proceeds to roll down the window and yells to the group of humanoids that were fighting the entity Gerald: Hey, you know guys know how to get back to Earth from here? We're a bit lost. Coldsmith: No don't fucking say that. One of them is probably a victim of SCP-8501 and we just kill stole what I'm assuming to be the Demon Lord from them. I'm activating the CMPD beacon to get Yatlz here. Get driving. Footage cuts off. [END LOG] ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8501" by Coldsmith, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8501. 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: boxtruck Name: File:ISUZU ELF, 6th Gen, Hi-cab White Box truck.jpg Author: Mj-bird License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:ISUZU_ELF,_6th_Gen,_Hi-cab_White_Box_truck.jpg#globalusage |
SCP-8503 | esoteric-class | A true Warrior fights the War Within, The war to be true to oneself. The war to be free. Even if the Valravn owns your body, they don't own your soul. Become a true warrior, sister. close Info X SCP-8503 The Valkyrie Model Author: Kilerpoyo ⚠️ Content warning: This article contains a content warning: Feminicide, Transphobia/Misgendering, Discussion of Suicide, Survivor's Guilt, Transgression of Body Autonomy, Implied Sexual Abuse, Genocide, Current Wars, Colonialism, Violence ⚠️ content warning I - Europa Gods of the old ways, Grant me the strength of my forefathers, Gods of the new ways, Grant me the wisdom of the Coming Age. Let me be strong in the flesh, Let me be stronger in spirit, For I battle the War Within, And I strive to become a True Warrior. To be worthy of fighting alongside you, To be worthy of dying alongside you, To withstand the coming Ragnarok, Óðinn á yðr alla Pain broke her prayer. Like the pain of her phantom limbs, it was born from an absence—a void that should not be empty. When she prayed, her eyes were closed. When she opened her eyes, her legs were still missing. And the coffin, sailing through the Seas of Id, still burned in her memories. She repeated the process over and over, each time as if expecting a different result. Her broken words had left a faint echo through the halls of the Ásatrú Cathedral, a high-tech temple decorated with brutalist concrete statues of ancient gods and neon-lighted altars dedicated to possible tomorrows. In front of her, the stained glass depicted tragedy in three acts. First: the death of a god pierced by a mistletoe arrow through his heart. Second: the goddess with two faces, one dead and the other alive, rejecting the pleas of a mournful mother. Third: In the sky, a wolf devours the solar chariot; below, Midgard is consumed by flames…. darkness… gunshots… men shouting. The chaos that had consumed her city echoed like the ringing in her ears. Still, the neon lights of Eurtec could reach her shrouded figure through the bulletproof stained glass. She had sworn to protect the city that had already taken so much and, its hunger ever-growing, would keep on taking more. "Faith is a constant battle within ourselves." She felt a hand on her shoulder. His voice was warm. "Can you tell the difference between a soldier and a warrior?" "A soldier fights the War Outside…" She spoke, recalling her childhood lessons. "But a true warrior fights the War Within. Only by winning the War Within can humanity hope to triumph in the War Outside." "Father," she sounded defeated, "what if I'm not meant to be a warrior?" "What makes you doubt, little bird?" "They are not with me, I can't feel them. I can't hear them in the thunder nor in my deepest silence. Am I not worthy of their voice?" "How could you not be worthy of your gods? Of your fate?" His tone was still warm but firm. "The Nornir have spoken…" "Could it be a mistake? It was not from the Nornir, obviously… but maybe we misunderstood." She lowered her head. "Sorry. I didn't mean to commit blasphemy…" "No. Don't apologize. It would be hypocritical for me to judge… I have fallen into that temptation as well. But, even if you can't find trust in the gods, do you still trust your old man?" "Of course I do." She could barely contain her tears. "I need you to trust me, little bird. And I need you to trust Dr. Brandt as if she was me. She shall be like a mother to you." As he spoke, his smile felt sincere. "Yes, sir… father." But her smile didn't. "Remember, this city houses the Silicon Nornir, keepers of the future of mankind and its only hope for the Greater Winter. We, the GOC… no, the Order of the Æsir… we are sworn to protect this hope at all costs from those who would burn this civilization, our home, to ashes. This is our duty… and our fate." "But… What if I'm not meant for this fate?" A single tear escaped her. More were eager to follow. "The Old Ways teach us that no one can escape their Fate. Not even the gods themselves. But don't forget, a new world was born after the first Ragnarok. Hope will always exist, even after the end of things. Humanity will prevail over death and fire." "Dad," she embraced him, finally allowing her tears to fall. "I miss her so much." "So do I, little bird." Item#: 8503 Level4 Containment Class: esoteric Secondary Class: argus Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: danger link to memo Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8503-ᚸ's1 true nature is only known to GOI-1024, the Valravn Corporation. All known instances of SCP-8503-ᛒ2 currently operate under the orders of Valravn. As established by the Cartagena Agreement, Section XV "Transparency and Cooperation", the Valravn Corporation has agreed to share comprehensive information regarding SCP-8503 with the Foundation and the GOC. Official observers will be dispatched to Research Station 63 to facilitate this exchange and report on the scientific, strategic, and ethical implications of SCP-8503-ᚸ and -ᛒ. Based on this assessment, the Foundation and the GOC will define their official position regarding the military use of SCP-8503. Description: SCP-8503-ᛒ, designated as the 'Valkyrie Model' by the Valravn Corporation, are cybernetically enhanced human organisms created for combat applications. SCP-8503-ᛒ instances exhibit superior strength, speed, agility, and resilience compared to standard human soldiers. SCP-8503-ᛒ units have shown proficiency in both modern firearms3 and traditional melee weaponry.4 During combat, SCP-8503-ᛒ instances rely on velocity, stealth, and partial bulletproof armoring to overcome enemy fire and quickly terminate their targets. SCP-8503-ᛒ is one of the main assets employed by the Valravn Corporation. Valravn usually deploys SCP-8503-ᛒ for covert infiltration and assassination missions, though their use as shock troops and support alongside conventional forces has been documented. Despite their enhancements, SCP-8503-ᛒ units are vulnerable to both conventional and anomalous weaponry and can be neutralized through concentrated fire. The Foundation possesses limited information on the full capabilities of SCP-503-ᛒ. Studying the anomaly has proven challenging due to Valravn's intellectual property protection practices: SCP-8503-ᛒ units are equipped with a self-destruct function that will activate in case of defeat or capture by an external party. SCP-8503-ᚸ is the anomalous process by which SCP-8503-ᛒ instances are created. While its particularities are currently unknown to the Foundation, SCP-8503-ᚸ is unlikely to be entirely paratechnological due to the increased Akiva radiation5 readings registered around SCP-8503-ᛒ units. Video Log > RECORDING STARTED < ﹫﹫ ﹫﹫ The following recording was retrieved from the headcam of a Volk Division operative near the Russo-Finnish border. A Volk Division squad had tracked a damaged SCP-8503-ᛒ unit to a warehouse. The camera feed shows the perspective of Volk-7. Night vision reveals an interior filled with crates, barrels, and a rusted crane hanging from the ceiling. Volk-7 can see the silhouette of the SCP-8503-ᛒ unit. The tactical HUD signals the lone unit, sitting motionless over a crate at the center of the warehouse. The HUD also highlights the vital signatures and positions of the rest of the squad. The Volk team had surrounded the SCP-8503-ᛒ unit. Volk-7 Baba Yaga is unresponsive. Volk-4, deploy antitank fire. Volk-2, Volk-3, and Volk-6 prepare to engage. Volk-6 fires an antitank HEAT round directly at the SCP-8503-ᛒ unit. As it is about to strike, the target suddenly moves. The video feed switches to slow motion, showing the SCP-8503-ᛒ unit striking the projectile with an elbow and deflecting the trajectory. The video resumes its normal rate. The rocket hits the crane, making it crumble to the ground. Volk-2 and Volk-3 vitals lost. Volk-7 Shit! Fire at will! Volk-6 and Volk-4 fire their heavy machine guns at the anomaly. The SCP-8503-ᛒ unit jumps through the containers, evading the bullets. It draws a blade and lunges over Volk-6, impaling the operative in the chest. Volk-4 keeps firing at the target, but the unit uses Volk-6 as a human shield. Volk-6's body dissolves into a pulp of lead and blood. Volk-6 vitals lost. Volk-4 Volk-7! I need backup! Volk-7! As SCP-8503-ᛒ approaches Volk-4, the camera turns around. Volk-7 is rushing to the exit. Volk-7 Fuck! Fuck! Volk-4 Volk-7! Volk-7! What are yo– Volk-4 vitals lost. The exit is now just a few steps away. Volk-7 gasps, they are about to reach it. The camera suddenly falls and rolls to the ground. Volk-7 vitals lost. The headless body of Volk-7 now lies in front of the camera. The mechanical frame of SCP-8503-ᛒ stands behind it, a bloodied blade in its hands. The SCP-8503-ᛒ unit approaches and grabs the camera, Volk-7's head. Glitch. The feed shows an expressionless white mask, tinted red. Signal lost. Addendum - Geopolitics: Despite growing concern from the international anomalous community, Private Military Contractor involvement in global anomalous security has risen. In the particular case of Valravn, their services have been officially contracted by CALMECAC6 to aid the Mexican government in the War on Drugs against anomalous cartels and extremist guerrilla groups such as Las Víboras, a splinter group from the Serpent's Hand. On the other hand, the Kalmar Treaty between Valravn and the Nordic Council7 was recently renewed. The Kalmar Treaty grants Valravn extraterritoriality and funding for their research facilities and military bases in the Nordic countries in exchange for military aid in the case of an invasion, particularly against the anomalous capabilities of the Volk Division.8 Recently, the Zenith Group9 has lobbied the GOC and the European Union10 to outsource policing and security roles in the Eurtec Freeport to the Valravn Corporation. Opponents of this initiative cite risks inherent to the privatization of security, Valravn's record of human rights abuses, and possible conflicts of interest: Zenith is the majority shareholder of the Valravn Corporation. Proponents point to the rising gang violence in Eurtec's Lower City, where the presence of paracriminal groups such as the Hunter's Black Lodge and the Sin Nombre drug cartel have been confirmed. The latter is credited for introducing the anomalous drug arcángel and the subsequent surge of violence over control of the drug trade that threatens the stability of the metropolis. Newer waves of immigration from conflict zones and climate change refugees have made it difficult to screen out the population in search of radicals. As a result, Chaos Insurgency, Serpent's Hand, and ORIA infiltrators are active in the city, increasing the risk of further destabilization. While concrete evidence is still lacking, it has been proposed that the recent increase in criminal and dissident activity may have been instigated by the efforts of the Volk Division and a recently refounded GRU Division "P". Valravn's proposal for Eurtec's security includes using SCP-8503-ᛒ as their main force against criminal and terrorist targets. The Corporation cites previous successful deployments of SCP-8503-ᛒ in the Middle East and Latin America as evidence supporting the effectiveness of this strategy. While the proposal is being reviewed by the Council of 108, critics have pointed out that the unprecedented mass deployment of an anomaly as a police and security force could escalate conflicts and further legitimize the unrestricted use of anomalies in warfare. For this reason, the Foundation and the GOC have requested Valravn to disclose all relevant information regarding the production and military use of SCP-8503-ᛒ, including SCP-8503-ᚸ. II - Sorbona Helga Thors found herself lost in the child's agony. No one would hear his cries for help; he would remain there, frozen in time, forever half-eaten by the old man. "Dr. Thors, I see you have a fondness for Rubens." "I do, though I prefer Goya's version," replied Helga. She shifted her gaze from the painting on the wall to the woman seated across from her. The older woman smiled gently, almost grandmotherly — it was easy to forget she was E-4, Vice-Chairwoman of the Ethics Committee. "I prefer Goya's as well. Sadly, I was beaten at the auction." E-4 opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a stack of documents along with a pack of cigarettes. She offered one to Helga, who politely declined. Unfazed, the Vice-Chairwoman lit a cigarette as she began flipping through the pages. "Before we begin, Dr. Thors," She didn't even look at Helga, her gaze still fixed on the document, "I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed reading your doctoral dissertation. From the title alone, it immediately caught my attention." "The appreciation is always welcome," Helga replied. She glanced at the desk, where a thick document titled 'Of Conflicted Men and Useful Monsters: The Psychological Cost of Moral Dilemmas in the Anomalous Warfront' lay. "Commander Gotz's fate was particularly heartbreaking," E-4 finally lifted her gaze from the document and locked eyes with Helga. "Between you and me, do you wish you had done something differently?" Helga's face betrayed no emotion. So it begins: the interview, she thought. She replied calmly: "Commander Gotz's conundrum began long before I started treating him. I recommended suicide watch and amnestic treatment almost immediately after my first evaluation." Helga paused, Gotz's face had flashed through her memories. She pushed Gotz back into her subconscious and continued. "Unfortunately, it was already too late. There was little I could have done at that point. Instead, I would address the conditions that led Commander Gotz to that situation in the first place." "I support that approach. Please go on." E-4 took a puff of her cigarette. "Commander Gotz had to make a tough call. He had to sacrifice a squad of his troops, leaving them behind to stall the anomaly until reinforcements arrived. The thing is, there were no reinforcements. Containment orders were to dynamite and seal the tunnel." Absolute terror in the dark, she thought. When remembering that unfortunate episode, Helga always felt an odd mixture of horror and scientific curiosity. "Sadly not an uncommon scenario." E-4 exhaled a cloud of smoke, followed by a faint cough. "And Gotz was perfectly aware of that. It was for lying to them — he was their commander and they trusted him — that he could never forgive himself." E-4 stroked her chin. "Had Gotz told them the truth, do you believe it would have impacted the mission?" "In such a critical situation we could not afford the risk of desertion. There was a lot at stake." "Agreed. Sometimes, we have to send our people to certain death. D-classes, soldiers, researchers… no one is exempt. We die in the dark…" E-4 didn't finish the motto, allowing the phantom words to haunt the room instead. "'No one deserves to die in the dark'…" replied Helga. E-4 watched her closely; Thors had awoken her interest. "That is what Gotz said in our last therapy session," explained the psychologist. "I may agree with Gotz here. I'm unsure if no one deserves it, but at least his men didn't. Still…" "Those sacrifices were necessary. Gotz's death, on the contrary, was completely pointless," Helga discretely clenched her fist in frustration, "Despite making the right decision, he was ill-equipped to deal with the aftermath. Could we have helped him cope? Sure, but it would have been better if he never had to make that choice in the first place." Now there was passion in her voice. "We need the right people for the job. The ideal candidate should be able to take an emotional distance from the situation. After studying a myriad of cases, I have found the profile for that candidate." "Someone like Commander Salamanca, if I recall correctly." "Yes, Commander Salamanca was the closest match to the ideal profile. Scoring way higher than Gotz in the Dark Triad,11 he had both the charisma to inspire the troops and the pragmatism to not get attached to them. And when faced with a similar situation to Gotz, he made the right call and suffered no psychological sequelae whatsoever." Helga's eyes glowed with pride. Salamanca was her scientific breakthrough, her 'eureka moment'. "It almost sounds like you admire him." She took a long drag from the cigar. Ashes fell onto the pages of Helga's thesis. "I wouldn't go that far. I was assigned to help integrate him into the Foundation, which he did quickly. He was a fascinating case of study…" Then, Helga crossed her arms and her voice turned somber. "But make no mistake; I know people like him would be a danger to society in most cases. Here, we can give them a better purpose. And take some of the burden from people like Gotz. I think of it as a form of containment." "A Useful Monster…" pondered E-4. "Indeed. Like a Thaumiel type." "So tell me, Helga, do you see yourself more as a Gotz or a Salamanca?" For a moment, Helga froze. The question had caught her by surprise; it wasn’t something she had ever asked herself. "Worry not, I'm not expecting an answer. It's not a question you can answer, at least not now." E-4 smiled as she took another puff of her cigarette. "In truth, I do think you will be a valuable addition to Omega-1.12 You wouldn't be talking to me if that wasn't the case; in other words, I want you in the Task Force. You'll join first as a recruit on a trial mission and, depending on your performance, we'll discuss what comes next." E-4 pointed at Helga with the ember of the cigarette. It looked like a burning finger. "Are you on board with these terms?" "I am. I've already been briefed on the nature of the mission. Valkyries…" "Intriguing, right? The Ravens have finally agreed to share their most precious toys and you'll be in the front row. It will be a spectacle, that is for certain, though I couldn't say if it is one I would personally like to watch," E-4 briefly covered her mouth to cough. "Tell me, don't you feel strange about this mission?" "Do you mean 'strange' besides the usual stuff?" "At first glance it looks like an open-and-shut case, ethically speaking. You don't need a PhD in Parabioethics to recognize that whatever Valravn is doing will be morally repulsive." E-4 sighed. "Almost seems like a waste of our time: like walking into a trash fire and pointing out it is hot and stinks." "True, but someone has to do it," Helga spoke firmly, wanting to show her commitment to the cause. "The situation in Eurtec is delicate and Valravn shouldn't be left unchecked there." "To be honest there is little we can do about it. Zenith is strengthening their chokehold on Eurtec and they have secured the support from other prominent members of the Council of 108. The Universalist Order of the Æsir has a particular interest in the Valkyries. They have negotiated a deal with Zenith and Valravn: their support in exchange for the shield-maidens." The cigarette in E-4's hand was almost consumed. Helga remained silent, waiting for E-4 to continue. "The observers are meant to closely follow two new Valkyrie candidates. The GOC is bringing one of them, someone we believe is related to one of the observers, Hersir Ahlberg. If the process is successful, she will be the first — and probably not the last — Valkyrie to join the GOC. Unfortunately, we don't have the same leverage over Valravn and Zenith the GOC has. We are being invited both as a formality and as a provocation." E-4 coughed, then continued in a sardonic tone, "Sadly, this means we won't be getting a Valkyrie." "Shame." "A little bit. But it doesn't mean we will be leaving empty-handed. Officially, you will be just an observer. Unofficially, let's call it 'applied ethical consulting'." E-4 opened a drawer and grabbed a disk drive. She handed it to Helga, "Here are your instructions, already encrypted. There is plenty of information on the second candidate from a reliable insider source. I also suggest you heavily familiarize yourself with the Jailbreaker's manual." Helga held the drive tightly. "I won't disappoint, E-4." "I'm sure you won't," said E-4 as she took the last puff of her cigarette before stubbing it out on an ashtray. "Although I have greatly enjoyed this conversation, I'm afraid I have other matters to attend to." Helga nodded and said her goodbyes. Just as she was about to leave the room, she heard E-4's voice: "Dr. Thors, one last thing. I must warn you to be extra careful around one Dr. Brandt." "I understand." "No, you don't. She's a bitch." Addendum - Observers' Profiles: Four observers, one from the Foundation and three from the GOC Norse Caucus, are scheduled to travel to Research Station 63 Valkryie HQ, formerly the Kingdom of Valborg, in the northernmost region of the Scandes mountain range.13 They will meet with Dr. Olga Brandt, overseer of the Valkyrie project. The observers will be briefed on the true nature of SCP-8503-ᚸ and -ᛒ and report to the Foundation and GOC to guide recommendations on the military application of this anomaly. Name Specialty Affiliation Note Dr. Helga Thors Military Psychology and Parabioethics Foundation A candidate to join the Ethics Committee and MTF Ω-1, Dr. Thors is expected to prepare a report to the O5 and the Ethics Committee regarding Valravn practices on SCP-8503-ᛒ. Hersir Oswald Ahlberg Modern Anomalous Warfare GOC - Universalist Order of the Æsir Hersir Oswald Ahlberg will assess the model's viability to support GOC operations. Seidr Allen Wells Digital Rune-based Precognition GOC - Servants of the Silicon Nornir Seidr Wells will represent the Silicon Nornir's Higher Wills. Thane Einar Hellström Tactical Thaumaturgy Specialist GOC - Niflheim Armed Tactical Order. Thane Hellström will provide expert opinion regarding military applications of thaumaturgy. III - Juárez The same weird dream again. Déjà vu. A desert, a gun, and a bound man. She took the gun and pointed it at the man's forehead. Nothing personal, no harsh feelings. There was the sound of thunder. Multiple bolts. A whole storm. It rained until the desert was drowned and the world was now an ocean. Waters were calm at the Seas of Id. With rhythmic rowing, the tibia mariner guided the funeral barge through the fog. Her destination was an island, trapped between life and death. A melancholic figure awaited her—dream logic suggested it was a queen, ancient and forgotten. The Queen was a beacon, drawing her barge to the island. Waiting for her was not just the queen, but someone else—someone whose absence burned her soul and whose memory weighed like a chain. But like every other night, just as she was about to reach the island, vigil called… An ocean apart from the technological hub of humanity, Officer Tamayo awoke. Clara. She stared with empty eyes at the stained walls of her hospital room. Pendeja14, she thought. They were mostly empty, except for a painting of a gloomy island. An odd choice for a hospital room. "You better start thinking about your future." The voice of her former commander echoed in her head. "The Policía Paranormal Preventiva15 has its days numbered. Soon CALMECAC will be taking over all of the country's parasecurity duties. You better get in the new bosses' good graces." "It will be quick. A routine raid: find some drug leftovers, burn them, and get some pictures for the press." She just wanted the voice to shut up. "I'm only asking you because I know you have potential. I can only send someone I can trust. Someone in the know about all of this paranormal shit. The top dogs at CALMECAC will be watching. Despite your… lifestyle, I have always looked out for you, don't you agree?" Pinche pendejo palero.16 There was an agonizing, burning pain all over the missing right arm. She closed her one remaining eye and saw it again: that night in the warehouse… the nahual chewing her arm up to the bone, maniacally grinding it until nothing was left. Her right leg suffered a similar fate. Curiously, the phantom leg did not pain her; she only had an intense itch in her missing foot. An itch impossible to scratch. Pendeja, pendeja, pendeja. Esto me pasa por pendeja.17 Next to her, there was a nightstand with a Virgen de Guadalupe effigy and a glass of water. She never prayed and she wasn't going to start now. It was too late anyway. Not even a promise to the Pale Lady could help her now. Lupita, la Santa… todos los pinches santos y dioses se pueden ir a la verga.18 She looked at the identification tag on the door: Paciente #153 José Tamayo López. Rage and nausea boiled in her insides. That name hurt her. That name mutilated her. Yet she never gave herself the chance to get rid of it. The door opened slowly. "May I come in?" A blonde, clearly foreign woman cautiously entered the room, "Officer Tamayo, I presume. I'm Helga Thors from the SC…" "I was curious who would show up first to finish the job — the sicarios from Sin Nombre, or you guys. Well go ahead, don't waste any time any longer. I've been waiting long enough." "We don't seem to be on the same page," Helga said, closing the door behind her. "No shit. It is obvious to me. I have outlived my usefulness and now I'm a loose end. You are here to either wipe away my memory or rip apart my head. Whatever works for you." "I'm sorry to disappoint you. I'm here on a different business." Helga watched Tamayo closely, unsure how to interpret her bravado. "Is that so?" asked Tamayo, more annoyed than surprised. "Are you familiar with the Valravn Corporation?" "Private security, mercenaries, whatever you want to call them. CALMECAC's new best friend in the drug war. Though everyone knows they work with the cartels. But who doesn't?" Tamayo rolled her eyes. "Also way too into larping for my taste." "We both can agree on that." Helga discreetly inspected the room, searching for clues that might reveal more about Tamayo's personality. However, there wasn’t much to work with. "I'll get straight to the point…" The eerie painting drew Helga's gaze, making her lose track of the conversation. She went silent for a moment before adding: "That's certainly a choice for the decoration of a hospital room." "I thought you were going straight to the point." "All right, sorry. Soon, you'll be visited by a Valravn representative. They want to recruit you for their Valkyrie program." "Me? A Valkyrie?" Tamayo's heart skipped a beat. She felt a spark in her insides, something she hadn't felt in a long time. "But I'm not… I thought I couldn't be one." She whispered, almost to herself. "We are certain you will be the candidate. And if I'm not mistaken you do identify as…" "Don't explain to me who I am." Tamayo sighed. "Why are you here? What does the Foundation want from me?" "We want your help." Helga locked eyes with Tamayo, "In fact, we need it." Tamayo quickly turned her face to avoid Helga's gaze. "To be your spy? Sounds like a lot of trouble. And I'm not particularly in the mood to get into more shit than I already am. What do I gain?" "You are fit for the job. You already sound like a mercenary." Helga was starting to figure out Tamayo's angle. "Fuck you," Tamayo said with a slight laugh. Got her. Helga thought. She now went serious. "Your ambush. Don't you want to get back at the people who did this to you?" "What do you know about my ambush?" replied a somber Tamayo. "We have reason to believe Valravn warned Sin Nombre of the raid. You said yourself: Valravn has been playing both sides of this war since the beginning. That's how they operate, they create the conflict, the victims, and prey on the despoils." "So they crippled me only to hire me. Genius." The wounded policía smirked. "But you don't have to play into their game. You can fight back." "You do realize you are sending me on another suicide mission, don't you?" This time, it was Tamayo looking at Helga's eyes. "Maybe. But you will not be alone. Unlike those who sent you to that warehouse, I'll be there with you." And Helga didn't turn away. Tamayo half-smiled. "How reassuring. And what would be our mission?" "We'll talk about specifics later." "You are full of shit, Helga. Búscate otra pendeja."19 "Tú eres la pendeja que estoy buscando."20 Tamayo chuckled. She could not hide her amusement. "You'll make me blush," she said. Then she turned around and tried to grab the glass of water from the nightstand. After a few bewildering moments, she realized she was trying to do it with her missing arm. "Maybe I'm a pendeja after all." Helga took the glass of water and held it in front of Tamayo's face. "I'm not begging you to work with us, Tamayo. I'm also not trying to buy you." She paused for a moment, before handing the glass to Tamayo. "Still, I think you'll accept for the same reason you became a police officer." "Don't act as if you knew me." Tamayo drank the water in almost one gulp. Then she returned the empty glass to Helga. "I know you are still looking for him. The man who killed Clara." Helga put the glass again on the nightstand, next to La Virgen. "No. Shut up!" Shouted Tamayo, "You don't have any fucking right to play that card on me. There was no justice for her. And there will never be! Not in this godforsaken country." "I don't know if we can still find that asshole. Could still be possible, eventually. But you know this is not just about Clara. This war has taken so many other lives and will keep on taking more. You are right there is no justice here, and as long as Valravn keeps profiting from this hell, there will never be. But we can make a difference. For everyone. For Clara." '"Good speech. Loved the violins at the end." "Thanks, it was only partially improvised." Tamayo looked one last time at the painting on the wall. She was starting to like it. "One question, Helga. Is it true that Valkyries get to choose a cool Viking codename?" "I heard so, but I'm unsure about the exact process. Why do you ask, Officer Tamayo?" "No. Officer Tamayo is gone, he went to live on that gloomy island." She smiled. "You can call me Astrith." Addendum - Description update: SCP-8503-ᚷ, also known as Valkyiriogenesis, is an apotheotic phenomenon of a ritualistic nature. Categorized as Tier 3 in the Liebert-Hikari Apotheosis Scale,21 SCP-8503-ᚸ can also be described as a "corporeal" apotheosis: the transmutation occurs in the subject's original body affecting both physical and spiritual properties. The earliest description of the SCP-8503-ᚸ dates from the 13th century and is found in the Codex Artorious, an extended version of the Prose Edda only known inside anomalous circles.22 This version describes the procedure as merely a sacrificial rite, mandating a neck hanging, and makes no mentions of any anomalous results. Later sources recontextualize it as a rite of passage to "enhance the soul of warriors"23 and add variations to the procedure, however, the baseline structure remains the same. It is unclear exactly how variations influence SCP-8503-ᚸ's results. The Codex Corvinus (14th Century) contains the historical version with the highest known success rate: "From the waters of Mímisbrunnr, oh far maiden shall you drink," "to receive the gift of Tyr, thy lindworm, into her soul" "From an ash tree, fair maiden shall you hang," "In the flesh wounded, but warrior spirit intact," "Tied not from the neck but from the chest," "Pierced in the side, by the sacred spear," "For Nine days hanged the Allfather… "For 9 hours the chosen daughter should hang." "The worthy will rise as chosen among the slain." After completing SCP-8503-ᚸ, a subject has a 63%24 chance of becoming an SCP-8503-ᛒ instance. SCP-8503-ᛒ instances show enhanced strength, durability, and limited thaumaturgical properties. These properties include limited healing capacities, resistance to extreme temperatures, the faculty to perform as a psychopomp,25 and extended lifespan (between 300-500 years). Successful competition of SCP-8503-ᚸ causes sterility. More notably, SCP-8503-ᛒ instances can perform a specific type of thaumaturgy to replace lost body parts, most commonly limbs. This process traditionally involved crafting rudimentary prostheses made from metallic or wooden materials. As long as the prosthesis has the correct articulations, an SCP-8503-ᛒ instance can seamlessly control it as if it were an original part of its body. The prostheses won't require any external power source besides SCP-8503-ᛒ's own Akiva energy. This anomalous property of SCP-8503-ᛒ is the base over which the modern iterations of the Valkyrie Model's cybernetic augmentations are built. IV - Trento Helga couldn't deny it — Valravn took the art of theatrics very seriously. The first council meeting would unfold in an ancient stone hall, fortunately outfitted with modern amenities, including ergonomic chairs. At the heart of the hall loomed the towering figure of a stone shield-maiden, seemingly in conversation with the raven perched on her shoulder. At the statue's feet stood a middle-aged woman, barely illuminated by a faint blue light. She spoke to the council’s guests as if not merely addressing them, but performing on the stage of a long-forgotten drama. "Ladies and gentlemen, as the Lead Researcher on Station 63, it is an honor to host you as distinguished guests…" A baffling combination of genuine pride and veiled condescension coated the old woman's words. Helga found it difficult to read her, and that made her uneasy. "Never been called distinguished before," murmured Astrith, "not even ironically." Helga made a discreet gesture indicating that she should lower her voice. "So who is she?" asked the former police officer quietly. "The name is Olga Brandt — the so-called Mother of Valkyries. She oversees everything concerning Valkyries, including your initiation," replied Helga. "Looks like I'm in good hands…" Brandt continued with her welcoming speech. "Research Station 63, the Kingdom of Valborg, has a rich and complex history. The Valravn Corporation is a proud stalwart of its secrets and traditions…" "Stalwart? Do you expect us to buy that?" The voice was as imposing as his figure, garbed in tactical gear characteristic of modern combat thaumaturges: a blend of modern and medieval armor styles, with Kevlar plates covered in ancient runic symbols. Thane Hellström, the observer from the Nifelheim Armed Tactical Order, had come dressed ready for battle. The message was clear: he wasn't lowering his guard around the Ravens. "Pardon us if we are not convinced that the Corporation's interest in the Old Kingdom was born out of concern for its valuable heritage," Seidr Wells was dressed only in a plain white tunic— the bearded old man could be mistaken for an ancient druid if it wasn't for the shining bionic camera in place of his left eye. "Thane Hellström," despite her age and size, Brandt somehow managed to sound as intimidating as the hulk in combat armor, "where was your Order when the Christian Kingdoms laid siege to Valborg? Or when the GRU-P communist scum treacherously attacked?" She did not hide her visceral disgust while pronouncing the word 'communist', "Who came to protect the Queen from the Nazis? It was not Nifelheim: it was Jomsborg." "You are not the Jomsvikings," contested the Thane. "We have become much more than that." Brandt turned to the old seer. "Tell me, Seidr Wells, have the Nornir pronounced against our Valkyrie project?" "Not yet," answered the servant of the silicon oracle. "And I doubt they will," Olga pointed to the statue behind her, "the Hrafnsmál immortalizes the sacred pact between Valkyries and Ravens. We are the true and only protectors of the Valborg." Helga had followed the exchange with interest. She was not expecting such explicit pushback from the GOC's Nordic caucus. It was a good sign. Yet the Universalist Order… "Gentlemen," a fourth voice joined the chorus, "my brothers in arms, caution is often wise… But what is gained by antagonizing our host?" The man wore a standard GOC military uniform; besides the GOC logo, it bore the symbol of the Æsir. "We have come in peace to listen and learn." Hersir Oswald Ahlberg, thought Helga. The Universalist Order of the Æsir did not have a history of siding with Valravn. Was it just Zenith's pressure or was something else going on? Ahlberg continued. "We all here are followers of the Old Gods and practitioners of the New Ways. We may have different ways to honor them, but when Ragnarok comes, we all should be on the same side. The side of humanity. Eurtec, the house of Silicon Nornir… the house of the future of mankind is in danger. We need to come together to face this existential threat or else everything we have built will fall apart." "I'll be dead before I trust a Raven!" Shouted Hellström. "But do you trust Fate, Thane? Because I do. I trust the Fate that has been woven for humanity. And so does my daughter!" He gestured toward a young woman sitting beside him in a wheelchair. She was missing both legs and her right eye. A horrible burning scar occupied half her face. "She has been chosen by the Nornir to become the first GOC soldier to ascend as a Valkyrie," he put his hand over her shoulder, "and I couldn't be prouder of her." She smiled. "My name is Wanda Ahlberg. I'll be honored to join the Valkyries." Addendum - History of SCP-8503-ᛒ: Historically, SCP-8503-ᛒ instances were former shield-maidens that, after surviving a grave battle injury, usually limb mutilation, completed a utiseta26 pilgrimage to Lake Mímisbrunnr and endured SCP-8503-ᚸ. SCP-8503-ᛒ instances worked as mercenary priestesses during the Viking age, serving in military roles as bodyguards, elite troops, and assassins; but also as healers, diplomats, advisors, and priestesses across Norse settlements and kingdoms. It is recorded they were particularly welcomed in Jomsborg, the citadel of the Jomsvikings mercenaries. Eventually, SCP-8503-ᛒ instances formed their own political entity around Lake Mímisbrunnr: the Kingdom of Valborg.27 Valborg was organized as an elective monarchy, with a new Queen28 selected by direct voting after the death of the old one. The Queen did not wield absolute power and was expected to lead by consensus, her role being spiritual as well as political. Valborg's population included baseline humans (both female and male) alongside SCP-8503-ᛒ, though only the latter could participate in the Queen's election. From the human population, the Valkyries recruited new shield-maidens to serve as squires and auxiliary troops. These shield-maidens would eventually be allowed to attempt SCP-8503-ᚸ and become SCP-8503-ᛒ. Foreigner warriors were also welcomed to perform SCP-8503-ᚸ and join the Valkyrie nation, there are written records of Valkyries originating from Miklagard,29 Serkland,30 Bláland,31 and even Vinland.32 At its peak, Valbrog had a population of around 12,000 Valkyries and 30,000 baseline humans. Following the Christianization of Scandinavia, Valborg was left in isolation and began to decline. The human population scattered and with the disappearance of shield-maidens across the Nordic world, Valborg lost most of its pool of potential recruits. Despite this, Valborg managed to maintain its independence from Christian kingdoms for centuries and remained a limited military power – defeating the forces of King Eric IX during the First Swedish Crusade and the Teutonic Order during the Northern Crusades. Valborg maintained cordial relationships with the local Sami pagan population, with whom they traded and procured recruits. This was disrupted during the 17th century when the kingdoms of Denmark-Norway and Sweden started to colonize and Christianise Sápmim, leaving Valborg in further isolation. During the 18th century, the Kingdom of Sweden–Norway conducted a series of campaigns to subdue Valborg. Under the leadership of Queen Randgrid II, the forces of Valborg managed to stall the invaders using guerrilla tactics.33 However, the war did not end until the intervention of the Valravn Northern Trading Company, which organized peace talks between Valborg and Sweden–Norway. As part of the deal, the Valborg Valkyries agreed to serve as mercenaries under Valravn and allow the creation of new SCP-8503-ᛒ instances from Valravn recruits. This was the first generation of SCP-8503-ᛒ whose allegiance was not to the Queen of Valborg. On behalf of the British Empire and Her Majesty's Foundation for the Secure Containment of the Paranormal, Valravn deployed SCP-8503-ᛒ during the Second Boer War and the Crimean Campaign. Valravn also experimented with clockwork-based mechanical prostheses for their Valkyries, possibly copied from Cogwork34 technology. In the First and Second World Wars, Valravn continued to serve under the British Empire; and later the United States of America and the Allied Occult Coalition. During World War II, Valborg endured both Nazi and Soviet invasions. After the Nazi occupation of Norway, Obskurakorps launched an expedition against Valborg to secure Lake Mímisbrunnr. Despite the newly reformed Valravn Corporation's pledge to defend Valborg, the arrival of Valravn reinforcements was delayed.35 When Valarvn forces finally broke the Obskurakorps siege, Valborg had endured the siege for two months. Around 95% of the remaining original Valkyrie population died during the siege. Severely weakened, Queen Randgrid signed the Treaty of Myr, transferring the sovereignty of Valborg to Valravn. The Corporation occupied the Kingdom and established Research Station 63 around Lake Mímisbrunnr. V - Avalon "I'm starting to get this place…" Astrith's breath was visible in the cold air. Helga pushed Astrith's wheelchair through a long metallic corridor. Despite the foggy weather, one could still observe the desecrated foundations of the ancient fortress standing after the centuries. New structures had been built recently, the signature Valravn style of merging brutalism and industry steadily burying the past with steel and concrete. Like a parasitic sprout growing on a rotting corpse, the technological infrastructure of Station 63 sprawled out like a network of veins, pulsing with life but choking the medieval roots of the castle beneath. Despite all their talk about stewardship and preservation, Valravn's main budget was not spent on historic conservation. Astrith continued her analysis, "When the Spanish conquered Mexico, they built their churches and palaces over the old temples. This place is the same. You build over the ruins to bury the past. Valravn did it to show who the new boss is." "Interesting hypothesis…" Helga pondered for a few seconds. "It makes sense from a psychological standpoint. They certainly have practical and strategical reasons to build in this place, though." "Sure, but they love their theatrics, don't they? I told you they were larpers." Astrith chuckled. "They are as obsessed with appearing as holders of some kind of mystical secret, just as they are with blood money. The pieces fit. Gold and God…" "Gold and God?" questioned Helga. "Those are two big things to motivate men to kill without mercy. If you control one of those, you can get to be the king. If you control both, you get to be kingmaker. The Spanish… Valravn… even Sin Nombre. It is all the same." They were finally reaching their destination, a small lobby leading to the sleeping quarters. Astrith noticed a figure ahead of them. A young woman rested in a wheelchair, staring absently through the window. "Hey, is that you…" Astrith hesitated for a moment, "… Wanda? Right? The daughter of that GOC guy." "Greetings." Wanda answered without looking back at them. "Forgive me, but I must beg you to be quiet. The procession is about to pass." "The what?" Helga and Astrith approached the window. The mist made it hard to see, but the outlines of the old castle courtyard ruins were still visible. A distant sound could be heard, haunting yet comforting: the faint ringing of bells and singing voices. Gradually, the silhouettes of a procession emerged. About twenty women clad in iron armor, their faces hidden behind emotionless white masks – most of them missing an arm, a leg, or both. It was clear they were not the high-tech Valravn Valkyries. In place of their lost limbs, rustic prosthetics of wood and metal moved as naturally as the originals would have. "The court of Queen Randgrid, the last of the old Valkyries," Wanda explained in quiet but solemn voice. The figure fronting the procession wore a golden-crowned mask. Her gait was the slowest and the rest kept her pace. Every step seemed like a painful struggle, yet she continued unrelenting. Astrith felt a shiver in her spine as the ghostly procession disappeared into the mist. The Queen in the island… "Even after all these years, after all her pain, the Queen still patrols her Queendom. What happened here during the war was so shameful. I hope we are worthy of her…" Wanda finally turned to face the other two women. "You must be Astrith. Nice to meet you. We will soon be sisters-in-arms." "Yeah… nice to meet you… sister." "I'm looking forward to getting to know you more. I was so curious when I learned about you." Wanda explained, "I didn't know someone like you could become a Valkyrie. It was a surprise, but a welcome one." "Someone like me? You mean a Mexican?" "No… I mean, you know… you are a…" "Man?" completed Astrith in a haughty tone. Astrith defaulted to misgendering herself before others could do it. One of many unhealthy coping mechanisms she had developed, thought Helga. "Wanda, I'm Dr. Helga Thors from the Foundation. I'm here to monitor your progress as well as Astrith's. Feel free to ask me anything. I would also like to ask you some questions eventually." "I'm open to talking to you, Dr. Thors, as long as you don't mind my father being present." Wanda then turned to Astrith and looked her with pleading eyes, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to…" "It's alright," While annoyed, Astrith was used to awkward interactions. Also, Wanda's apology seemed true at least. "Let's watch each other's back. I don't know what Fate awaits us, but I'm glad it brought us together." Wanda smiled. "Fate?" Astrith stroked her chin. "What does this have to do with Fate?" She was beginning to feel something that went beyond mere annoyance. Something about Wanda was awakening a deep conflict within her. "Yes, it was our Fate to become Valkyries. Our path here was traced by the gods themselves." The Mexican frowned. Was Wanda's naïveté perhaps a façade crafted to mock her? No, it was something far worse: sincere. Astrith had come prepared to face the intrigues and lies of a den of wolves and crows, but now she was confronted with a genuine offer of friendship. And for some reason that pissed her off. "Is that what that Silicon computer told you?" Wanda laughed nervously. "Don't call it like that in front of Seidr Wells… or my father. But yes, the Nornir chose me to be a Valkyrie. And they chose you too, so I'm eager to learn from you." "Learn from me?" She leaned toward Wanda. No one had ever wanted to learn from her. No one since… "What can I teach the GOC princess?" …Clara. "I read your files. You have plenty of experience dealing with the Cartel…" "Oh, the Cartel. Sin Nombre…" Astrith clenched her teeth. Clara's laughter echoed through the halls of her memory, each peal growing more distant. "Astrith? Are you okay? Asked Wanda after a few moments of her silence. Astrith snapped back and laughed. "Oh yes, I know them intimately. It cost me an arm and a leg, but I hope it can serve you well. I can teach you with extreme detail the sound and feel of a nahual munching on your flesh. Or the screams of a family being burned alive. The empty stench of the mass graves in the middle of the desert. Or the cries of a poor bastard who was forced to eat his own fingers." "That sounds… interesting." "Interesting indeed," Astrith looked Wanda right in the eyes. And after a few seconds, she understood. "You have never killed someone, have you? Have you ever seen combat?" Wanda hesitated. "Once… but I did undergo elite GOC military training…" "Tell me, princess, how did you lose your shoes?" "I… It was… during training." Wanda was shaking, her voice tinged with shame. "A training accident?" inquired Astrith. Wanda looked down. She didn't reply. "That explains a lot. You have no idea what you are signing up for." "I… I'm here to fulfill my Fate and my Duty…" Wanda took a deep breath before continuing, "I'm here to serve the gods and protect Eurtec and Sillicon Nornir, the technological future of mank–" "Stop." Astrith sighed. "Lesson number 1, princess: Forget all that crap. It will get you killed. There are no heroes and no gods in this war. You are here to survive one day more. That is the real goal." "That is not… Astrith…" A single snowflake landed on Wanda's cheek. She looked up to the sky. "A snowstorm is coming, we should go inside. My father must be waiting for me." She nodded to Helga, then to Astrith "Thanks for your… insights… there is too much to assimilate. We can continue later," Wanda quickly rolled to the nearest door. "Have you ever considered a career in education?" Helga had followed the whole interaction with interest. "Don't give me shit. I gave her what she asked for." Another snowflake landed on Astrith's forehead. She shook her head. "Damn, I hate this weather." "You don't think she should be here." Helga extended her hand to catch the next snowflake. She felt it slowly melt. "It's not like that, Helga. I don't mind nepo babies. But she is not ready. And her father knows it. That Dr. Brandt knows it. What game are they playing?" Addendum: Description update SCP-8503-ᛚ,36 also known as Parelaphostrongylus lindwyrm is a neurotropic nematode parasite endemic to the Mímisbrunnr Lake inside Research Station 63, where it can be found in high concentrations. Under normal circumstances, SCP-8503-ᛚ behaves similarly to other non-anomalous brain parasites such as Parelaphostrongylus tenuis. Drinking SCP-8503-ᛚ contaminated water, such as that in Mímisbrunnr Lake, appears to be the only vector of infection for SCP-8503-ᛚ. SCP-8503-ᛚ's anomalous property will only activate after an infected subject completes SCP-8503-ᚸ. Unsuccessful SCP-8503-ᛚ infection can explain up to 10% of SCP-8503-ᚸ's failure rate. SCP-8503-ᛚ will accommodate itself into the subject brain, specifically in the central lobule of the vermis, forming a symbiotic relationship and serving as a type of thaumaturgic gland. This will turn the infected subject into an instance of SCP-8503-ᛒ. SCP-8503-ᛚ has been identified as the source of SCP-8503-ᛒ's Akiva energy and thaumaturgical capabilities. The Valravn Corporation has shared its extensive body of research on SCP-8503. This clarified some of the ambiguous nature of the historical descriptions. For example, traditionally the term 'fair maiden' was interpreted to refer to a biologically female virgin. Prior sexual activity has been determined to bear no difference in the outcome. Chromosomal and/or hormonal sex is also not determinant. Biologically female individuals with a masculine gender identity consistently fail SCP-8503-ᚸ. Biologically male individuals with a feminine gender identity have a success rate statistically non-differentiable from biologically female individuals with a feminine gender identity. Success for individuals with a non-binary or third-gender identity seems to be correlated to their psychosocial proximity to the feminine gender. These and other further refinements over the historical baseline have resulted in the Modern Valkyrie Protocol: Fraxinus excelsior37 is recommended, however, any member of the Fraxinus genus can be used without significantly altering the success rate. It is not necessary for the Fraxinus to be alive; a dry specimen embedded in a metallic support can be practically deployed in a laboratory setting. Two requisites are indispensable for the subjects. They must identify with a feminine gender identity and possess a "warrior spirit". This second requirement has not been narrowly defined, but the success rate is vastly greater among military personnel. The subject must have suffered a battle injury, preferably some type of limb mutilation. Psychological trauma such as PTSD may also apply. As mentioned in the historical version, the subject must be hanged, but it is not necessarily for them to hang from the neck: strapping the upper body will suffice.38 A consecrated replica of Gungnir should be inserted into the subject's body, preferably below the ribcage. Medical treatment can be used to control bleeding, but the spearhead should not be removed until the trial has been completed. The subject must survive 9 hours in this state. To improve the survival rate, it is recommended to administer IV fluids and antibiotics. Painkillers are not recommended, since it is believed they hinder success rates by 6%. If the subject is successful, they will attain "Valkyrhood". VI - Mictlán "Rage. Anger. Self-loathing. Is that everything you can feed me?" Alien thoughts crawled into her mind. It was a liminal state, a limbo of symbiosis, the exact moment when something strange becomes part of yourself. The same way a protein is digested. The same way a trauma is internalized. The little wyrm nested in her brain. It was a messenger of Revelation, a herald of some unfathomable, eldritch voice. It fed on everything she was, distilling her very essence into a primordial state of being, and excreting a transmutation of everything she could be. "Does this taste like Guilt? Shame? No… it is a different, subtler taste." Her body was twitching, exhausted after hours of punishment. Even the phantom limbs suffered. But the worm could taste a deeper, greater phantom pain. "Shut up. You don't know me." Even her own voice sounded foreign. Her lower rib burned, pierced by cold iron. And that cold crawled in her bones. "I did not, but I do now. I am to become You. Come and See." The pain continued growing until it was everything she was. Rage and Guilt. Fear and Hunger. Love and Hate. Death and Water. Thunder and Flesh. Bile and Blood. Everything was the same as everything else. Everything had been distilled to the most primordial element: Pain. It was everything she Was. And after Pain was gone… she was almost Nothing. Less than anything. More than nothing. What remained was a spark And from that spark… A Fire was born. And the Fire became a Woman… And the Woman became a Warrior… And the Warrior became a… Astrith opened her eyes. She was standing in an endless field of orange flowers. …Valkyrie. "Was it worth it?" That voice sounded familiar. Astrith turned to the voice. She saw the face of Life… and Death. Lupita and La Santa merged into one being, one goddess. Hela. But the divine vision lasted only for an instant. Now she was on the outdoor basketball court. She barely recalled that place. She could not remember her classes, her classmates, or her books. But she did recall her. "Was it worth it?" She asked again. She was even wearing the old school uniform: a white shirt and a green plaid skirt. "It is raining somewhere else," the schoolgirl smiled and pointed to the clouded sky. Just like that day. That one last day. "Clara…" "Astrith…" "You… you didn't know me by that name." "I do now." Clara flashed a wide smile "It suits you. You are looking good, girl." "Thanks. You are looking good too." A single tear slid down Astrith's cheek. She wiped it. "It's a nice view… but this isn't how I last remember you." Astrith was now in the morgue. Clara laid on the table, covered by a dirty white sheet. Her face was bruised, her nose was broken… her throat… slit. Inside an evidence bag was her uniform, shredded and bloodied. "Why did you have to go alone that day?" Astrith shouted as more tears broke free, "I told you to wait for me!" "Maybe it was Fate…" Clara rose from the table. Her flesh had begun to rot — putrid blood poured from the still-open wound. "Bullshit!" "And what if I had waited?" Clara shrugged. "Would things have been different?" "I would have protected you…" "No digas mamadas.39 You would be rotting in this morgue with me." "Maybe I should be." "Then why are you still breathing?" "I'll find him…" "No! You don't have the right to use me as a pretext!" "Clara…" Astrith reached her hand towards Clara, her fingers trembling. Clara accepted her hand. Despite the ice-coldness of her touch, Astrith kept on holding her friend's hand. It was Clara who, after what could have been either a fleeting moment or a whole eternity, pulled her hand away violently. "My family. My boyfriend. Everyone. All they ever wanted to do was use me." Her anger gave way to sorrow. Clara's eyes looked at Astrith, pleading. "You were the only one who saw me as myself, so please don't take that away from me." "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" A somber cloud obscured the painted sun. Suddenly, all the orange marigolds froze; the Greater Winter had fallen over the Forever Fields. "If you want to die, then die." Clara grew with each word. Like the ancient ice-giantess, she was one with immense winter. "If you want to live, then live." She had grown until Astrith seemed like a mere insect resting in her palm. "But choose it yourself!" Clara closed her palm. Astrith felt the cold embrace of Hel all over her being. "Is that what you want?" "…" "Do you want to die, Astrith?" "No." "Do you want to live?" "I don't know…" "How many?" "What?" "How many did you kill? How many did you torture? Was it worth it?" An immense unnatural pressure fell on Astrith's body. The lost souls of Nifelheim, everyone she had ever killed, their laments rumbling in her head. "I…" The nails of the draugr pierced her flesh. Each cut was a sin to be repaid. "Was it worth it? Surviving this long as a carrion eater?" Astrith remained silent, buried by the weight of her dead. "How dare you stand in the hall of the gods if you can't dare to answer a simple question? Was it worth it?" Her soul and body went cold. She had been nothing but the pathetic enforcer of a corrupt system. Yet despite the guilt, despite the shame… "It was!" Clara smiled, she was no longer cold and giant nor bruised and bloodied. The two friends were now on the edge of the cliff, the last place before the rainbow started. "I missed you. I missed how you always walked with me and made me feel safer," Clara said. Behind her, the bridge to the orange fields rose slowly. "I was not meant to wait for you that day. Instead, I have waited for you in this eternity." Clara's voice began to fade; she was just a single grain of sand in the desert that was the universe. "All this time, I have been so afraid of crossing." The whole universe began to fade; it was just a single teardrop in the ocean that was Clara. "Would you walk with me one last time?" Clara rested her head on her friend's shoulder. Astrith took her hand. This time, it felt warm. At the edge of eternity, they shared the last deep breath before the plunge. And together, the Valkyrie and the Slain crossed the rainbow bridge to Valhalla. It felt like falling right into deep water. The moment when the superficial tension breaks. Which side was Death and which side was Life? It did not matter anymore. She was coming back. "Between you and me, was it really worth it?" Asked Clara's voice one last time. "This made it worth it." Following modern protocols, 63% percent of subjects will successfully complete the trial. Valkyrhood entails several advantages over the baseline human condition: enhanced strength, endurance, and speed, affinity to thaumaturgy, low-level Akiva Radiation and Elan-Vital Energy, and the ability to perform as a psychopomp. Then, the subject will be ready to undergo the next step of SCP-8503-ᚸ: the paraprosthetic weaponization protocol. The full extent of the weaponization process will vary between SCP-8503-ᛒ instances due to individual needs and combat role specialization; however, some procedures are common to all SCP-8503-ᛒ units. These procedures include but are not limited to: Depending on the missing limb or damaged body part, tailored Class-B Titanium prosthetics will be attached to the body. Current 3rd generation prostheses are optimized for maximum efficiency harnessing the subject's Akiva Energy. A reinforced titanium chassis is grafted to the subject's upper torso to protect vital organs. Monitoring hardware will be implanted. During deployment, an SCP-8503-ᛒ instance vitals will be constantly monitored by Mission Control. 3rd generation models include a neural implant to provide a tactical HUD and real-time interfacing with Mission Control. It requires constant calibration between deployments. Intellectual Property Protection (IPP) module.40 Steroid treatment and servomotor exoskeletal reinforcement to support baseline biological musculature. Ballistic treatment for skin. Micro-surgical implantation of Kevlar nanofibers below the epidermis. All SCP-8503-ᛒ instances sign a contract transferring their bodily rights to the Valravn Corporation. Every hardware implant is considered a leased property of the Valravn Corporation. SCP-8503-ᛒ are liable to be charged for any damage to the implanted hardware due to 'inadequate use'.41 VII - Sparta "My mom… she never went to mass. But she prayed every night. To God, to Lupita… to the Pale Lady." The Valkyrie remembered the shadow of her mother by the candlelight, kneeling every night in front of a makeshift altar. "It gave her comfort, but it wasn't my thing. I never managed to be religious. Even in the face of all this anomalous bullshit… what I mean is that even if there are powers out there beyond our comprehension, that doesn't mean we have to worship them. And yet… never mind." "Let's skip the part where you pretend you're not dying to tell me," snarked Helga. Astrith gave her the side eyes, "Remind me, how on earth did you manage to become a certified therapist? Anyways, when this fucking worm entered my brain I felt something. I mean, besides having a worm in my brain. It was energy flowing through me… as if I was connected to something bigger… it's hard to explain… but it felt like finally being part of the whole thing." "Seems like a textbook 'transcendental experience' to me." "Or maybe I just have a fucking worm parasitizing my brain." Astrith pointed to her head, her cybernetic hand mimicking a gun. "You do have one. But it seems to be a symbiotic relationship rather than a parasitic one," pointed out Helga. "Whatever the case, the 'transcendental' feeling went away when I got these prosthetics." She brought her new hand to her face, flexing her finger to examine the hydraulic joints of her bionic phalanges. "The cybernetics must be draining all the Akiva energy. Do you miss that connection?" "It was distracting. Also, it is nice to stand on my own again, and the HUD allows me to play Spotify directly into my auditory cortex." Astrith checked the HUD's digital clock. "Shit, we are late for training." For the most part, the courtyard had been spared from the ominous cancer of concrete, steel, and wires that plagued the rest of the castle. Instead, the stone ruins decayed melancholically among the mist and melting snow. It was the place where Valkyries had honed their skills for centuries, and Valravn had kept to that tradition. Astrith and Helga arrived to find the training session already started. It was full contact sparring. Wanda, armed with a longsword, barely managed to block the spear thrust to her head. She stumbled and her stance looked fragile; she was still getting used to her robotic legs. Her opponent showed no hesitation: her spear marked the rhythm of the battle and pressured Wanda without a quarter. "She is having trouble," observed Helga. Wanda looked desperate, trying to parry the relentless spear thrusts. "Sword against spear and shield is not a fair fight," replied Astrith. Despite the unfairness, Wanda held her ground. She had been trained well. However, the GOC Valkyrie played for defense, allowing the attacker to control the fight. With little chance to counterattack, eventually, her guard was destined to break. And it did break with a spear swipe to her legs. Wanda fell to the ground. "Stand! We are not finished." The trainer was an imposing woman, tall and blonde. Her voice was deep and cruel. Biomechanical prostheses had replaced both her arms. It looked like she could easily rip apart an armored car. Wanda grabbed her sword and stood firmly, only to be taken down by a blow with the shield to the stomach. "Warriors are forged by pain! I will beat you all the times necessary to purge the weakness out of your body!" The tall Valkyrie smiled sadistically, then got dead serious when she saw Astrith. "Wanda, I'll finish with you later." Wanda picked up the sword and limped towards a bench. Her nose was bleeding. She directed a concerned look to Astrith, and for a brief moment, Astrith saw Clara's shattered face in Wanda's. She felt anger and adrenaline rush through her veins, but she quickly suppressed it. She could not afford to lose control. The blonde Valkyrie was at least one head taller than Astrith. She was also more muscular, a hulking mass of roided flesh and steel. "I can't believe it. They let you in." She spit on Astrith's feet. Astrith didn't react. "This is a disgrace," the tall woman continued, "This is shame, contamination. Disgusting. You are disgusting. I can't believe they would insult me like this!" "By 'they' do you mean your bosses or your gods?" Astrith spoke as if she was talking to a petulant kid. "Because I did pass the trial, meaning your gods want me here. And your bosses complied…" "I don't know what trickery you used, but you don't fool me. My gods hate you. You are blasphemy, an abomination in the eyes of the Allfather." "And yet here I stand in front of you, blessed by the same gods, gifted with the same power. I get it; it must suck to have your fragile ego shattered by reality." "You and I are not the same! I am a true warrior and a true biological woman! I descend from a pure, untainted Nordic warrior lineage; your race is an abortion of rape and degeneracy. You are incapable of building anything on your own; you can only steal and corrupt the work of your betters. Do you want to know why? It is in your blood, it is tainted. It is in your genetics, they are weaker." Her mouth contorted to a smug grin, proud of her own cruelty, "You are a bloody parody, a mockery of both warriorhood and womanhood!" If Astrith felt something, she did not show it. "Biological woman? You are more machine than me." She looked directly at her enemy's eye. Then she cracked her fingers. "Are you finished? Or do you want to keep talking shit instead of dancing?" "Go ahead, choose your weapon. But let it be clear this won't be sparring. I'll fucking kill you." Astrith looked at the weapons rack. Her options were a single-handed sword, a mace, a hatchet, and a quite small shield. Of course only short-reach weapons, she thought. After some consideration, she walked away from the weapon rig and approached Wanda. "May I have your sword, princess?" "Astrith, she means it." "I know." "Let's get out of here. We can talk to my father or Dr. Brandt." "Wanda, I got this," winked Astrith with her non-bionic eye. "But I need your sword." Wanda sighed and reluctantly handed her weapon. "Be careful, please." The sword was all black steel, bearing a minimalistic tactical aesthetic. Astrith found it to her liking. She grabbed it with one hand and turned to face her would-be opponent. "I am Lagertha, trainer of the Valkyrie's Shield-Maidens. I won't allow vermin like you to contaminate our sacred sisterhood. You are not worthy of this armor while I am awaited in Val—" Her speech was interrupted by the sword's pommel hitting her forehead. Lagertha recoiled and tried to recover balance, but Astrith had not wasted time. She had already closed the distance and sucker-punched Lagertha in the face. Lagertha fell to the ground, dropping her weapons. Astrith was now atop the fallen Valkyrie, pummeling her face with bare fists. Astrith felt Lagertha's face deforming under each punch. The Mexican Valkyrie was not acting out of a sense of justice or even anger. Her violence was methodical, automated, and dissociative —born from the necessity to survive at all costs. Bullies. Bigots. Abusers. They were always cowards who never fought without securing an advantage. Lagertha was emboldened by her raw strength and convenient choice of weapon; she was also expecting to paralyze Astrith with psychological aggression. She did not count on Astrith having graduated from a more brutal and pragmatic school of violence. "Astrith! That is enough!" Shouted Helga. Astrith stopped, her hands now dripping with blood and oil. The once proud Lagertha lay mangled and unrecognizable below her. Astrith had lost herself in the bloody canvas of her own creation; the fruit of violence filled her with neither pride nor anger; it merely fed the claustrophobic sensation of emptiness in her mind and body. She stepped away from Lagertha, still shaken and dissociated. "Unorthodox, but effective," the cold voice of Olga Brandt brought Astrith back to reality. Puta madre, ya la cagué,42 she thought. "She will survive," Brandt reassured her, inferring her concerns. She had kneeled next to the fallen Valkyrie to take her pulse. "I have told Lagertha multiple times to not talk during battle, but she refuses to listen. Better for her to receive this beating from a fellow sister and not an actual enemy. I hope she learns the lesson this time. If anything, the medical and repair bills charged to her next paycheck should make her reconsider." "Wait… do we have to pay from our pocket if we get damaged or injured?" asked Astrith in disbelief. "Naturally, that's in the contract you presumably read before signing." The Mother of Valkyries stood up and stepped away from Lagertha as if distancing herself from a pile of trash. "Of course, I totally did that." "Sure you did." Brandt then addressed Helga. "Dr. Thors, I'm afraid I haven't had the chance to properly introduce myself." "Your reputation precedes you, Dr. Brandt." "As yours do. I would appreciate it if we could talk in private later." "It will be my pleasure," Helga replied, unsure. "Excellent… Now I have an announcement to make. Wanda and Astrith…" Dr. Brandt extended her arms and smiled. "Congratulations! You both are showing satisfactory integration with Gen 3 implants. You can now call yourself Valkryies without any doubt. Welcome to the family. I'll be so proud of calling you daughters." "Thanks…" Astrith could not help but feel unsettled by Brandt. "It is an honor, Dr. Brandt," Wanda subtly bowed. She was genuinely proud and happy. "Please feel free to call me Olga, my dear Wanda. And I have special news for you. We evaluated your profile; you will be the ideal candidate for the brand-new Gen 4 implants. Exciting, isn't it?" "Me? But I'm just a rookie. Astrith is much more experienced than me." "Not everything is about combat experience. We believe in giving everyone a fair chance to prove themselves. And by everyone, we do mean everyone, regardless of experience, nationality, race, gender, sex… Astrith herself is an amazing success story in this regard, right?" Astrith just nodded, smiled, and stared a thousand yards away. Wanda nervously stroked her hair. "I… I'll need more time to think about it." "By all means, take all the time you need. I want you to feel absolutely zero pressure about this matter. And regarding the contract you both signed, I want to clarify all that 'bodily rights transfer' stuff is just legal protocol." Brandt put her hand on Wanda's shoulder. "You will never be pressured to get an implant or upgrade you are not comfortable with." "That is reassuring," the young Valkyrie still sounded unsure. "However, I have spoken with Hersir Ahlberg and he is quite excited about the Gen 4 implants. And why wouldn't he? Imagine: the first GOC Valkyrie spearheading a new generation of true warriors, divine protectors of Eurtec." "Is he? I'll talk to him… it is just too much pressure. I don't want to disappoint him… or you Dr. Bran— Olga." Brandt took Wanda's hand. "It's a natural feeling, but worry not. With this new tech, you'll never have to worry about disappointment again." Addendum: Valkyrie Model Generations Through its history as the Valkyrie Model of the Valravn Corporation, SCP-8503-ᛒ's prosthetics have undergone several iterations, each incorporating cutting-edge paratechnological advancements of its time. Valravn historians divide SCP-8503-ᛒ development into four generations: 0th Generation: Also known as the 'archaic' or pre-Valravn era. During the time before the Corporation, Valborg Valkyries crafted their prostheses in an artisanal manner. After completing the SCP-8503-ᚸ ritual, a neophyte Valkyrie was mentored by an older peer. This mentoring started with crafting the prostheses, which was fundamentally the mentor's responsibility, for many Valkyrie recruits would be impaired in some capacity preventing them from crafting their prostheses. However, they were meant to observe and learn from their mentor with the understanding they would eventually do the same for a mentee of their own. There were several schools, each with its own traditions and preferred methods: some preferred working with hardened wood, while others favored metallurgy, primarily using bronze and steel. The most pragmatic schools emphasized practicality, martial efficiency, and simplicity in design, while others dared to experiment with exotic functionalities such as hidden blades and darts. There were even schools that prioritized the perfection of craftsmanship over practical concerns, creating genuine works of art. For 0th Generation Valkyries, prostheses were not only functional: they held spiritual and social significance. A prosthesis was a gift from the gods, a treasure for the clan, and a fundamental expression of each Valkyrie's identity. 1st Generation: The Treaty of Myr gave the Valravn Corporation43 total control over Lake Mímisbrunnr and SCP-8503-ᛚ. Lord Alexander Brandt the Third, occult industrialist and major shareholder oversaw the training of the first generation of Valravn Valkyries. Brandt, known as an admirer of the Cogwork Orthodox Church, presumably acquired and studied Cogwork augmentations and used them as the base for his prosthetic clockwork designs. This was the first Valkyrie generation to obtain mass-produced mechanical prostheses as opposed to the traditionally handcrafted ones. The combat viability of these new prostheses was tested in the anomalous front of the Second Boer War, where the Valkyries conducted several successful anti-guerrilla operations. 2nd Generation: By WW1, clockwork prostheses showed signs of obsolescence in the face of rapid technological progress. During the interwar period, Valravn invested heavily in modernizing its Valkyrie regiments and incorporating diesel-based technology into the standard prosthetics. Second-generation Valkyries are believed to have first been tested during the Spanish Civil War against communist and anarchist targets in Revolutionary Catalonia. Valravn has not confirmed these rumors nor any association with the Francoist regime or the Special Security Commissariat. During WW2 Valravn fought on the side of the Allied Occult Coalition and Valkyries were deployed in covert missions principally on the Western Front. However, Valkyries were not included in the Valravn expedition that broke Obskurakorps' siege of Valborg. 3rd Generation: During the Cold War, advancements in computation and cybernetics grew exponentially. The newly rebranded Valravn Corporation studied Maxwellist principles of network communication and sensory enhancement to develop the new generation of Valkyries. Electronic prostheses were first developed in collaboration with Prometheus Labs while the first experimental neural implants were provided by Raptor Tech Industries. The Corporation claims all research for Gen 3 was done with the utmost paraethical standards and that any rumors about experiments performed on unwilling civilians are completely unfounded. While it is known that the US Government hired Valravn services for covert operations during the Cold War, the extent of Valkyrie deployment is unclear, since most details remain classified under the preview of PENTAGRAM and the CPIA.44 4th Generation: Details on the coming new generation are still undisclosed. According to a Valravn spokesperson during the 2023 Eurtec Showcase, "It will introduce groundbreaking innovations in neural implants and interfacing to enhance combat neuropsychological responses." Reports that recovered Robotic Republic technology may be playing a role in the development of Gen 4 remain unconfirmed. VIII - Querétaro "Can you believe this? 40% of my pay will be on "Raven Tokens" only spendable in authorized company stores and venues… this is a fucking tienda de raya!"45 "You load 16 tons, what do you get?" Sang Helga as she tinkered with the implant in the back of Astrith's head. "Oh, don't fuck with me!" Astrith snorted annoyed, "Is this going to take much longer?" "Almost there…" Helga kept whistling to the tune of the famous folk protest song. She was enjoying her time. "I can't help but notice," observed the psychologist, "you seem more concerned about your pay rather than the fact that Valravn now claims total ownership of your body parts, both biological and synthetic." "I guess that's sucks too." "You never felt too much ownership over your body in the first place, did you?" "Do you need a PhD in Psychology to guess that?" Astrith's face briefly contorted into a grimace of pain. "Ouch! Be more careful!" "Bingo! It's done! The Jailbreaker is ready." Helga took great pride in her improvised circuitry work. "So this will disable the bomb in my brain, right?" "Yes, the IPP module. Now we can get the fuck out of this place." "And that will be when?" Astrith twitched her neck and smiled. "When we get what we came for," replied Helga matter-of-factly. "A sample of those lindworms," Astrith recalled. "And how are we supposed to get those? I've seen it, that lake is a fucking fortress." "We are getting help. We have someone on the inside." "And can we trust them?" "We have to," said Helga. Moonlight reflected eerily over the shieldmaiden's marble. The instruction was to meet at the feet of the Hrafnsmál statue. Astrith fidgeted with her hair, watching nervously the hall entrances. She mentally prepared herself to hear the alarms at any moment — to face an endless wave of guards and assault troops, not to mention the other Valkyries. It wasn't a battle she expected to win, but she still planned to make them pay dearly. That is, assuming Helga's jailbreak worked correctly. Otherwise, the red tint of her brain matter would make a striking contrast against the grayish tone of the statue. Noticing Astrith's concern, Helga placed a hand on her metallic shoulder. "We'll be fine. We didn't come that far just to di—" Helga's words of encouragement were interrupted by the arrival of a figure in white robes. His cybernetic eye emitted a faint reddish glow in the darkness of night, illuminating a braided beard. "Seidr Wells," murmured Astrith to Helga, "I was not expecting him to be the mole." "You are right about something, Valkyrie," spoke the Seidr, "I am no mole; merely a facilitator." "I was expecting Thane Hellström to be with us this night," commented Helga. "His heart is in the right place. But with his hot-headedness, he was not suited for this mission." "Then who is the source?" asked Astrith, "Do they intend to honor us with their presence?" "I think she has been here watching you for quite long," replied the techno-druid. Suddenly, a previously hidden presence revealed itself to Astrith, along with a knife pressed against her throat. A sharp voice whispered, "You still have much to learn, sister." As abruptly as it had appeared, the presence vanished, and Astrith felt the blade's pressure lifted from her neck. Astrith turned around looking for her would-be attacker. What she saw was a vision from a bygone era: an iron mask covered the warrior woman's eyes. She wielded a dagger in each hand, and her right arm, forged in iron, was of an archaic craftsmanship that sharply contrasted with the advanced technology embedded in Astrith's body. Astrith thought she recognized her as one of the Valkyries she had seen through the mist, among the Queen's procession. "Hey! What the hell was that?" shouted Astrith. "You Ravens feel too safe in your armored bodies. Don't forget every armor has a weak spot." "Astrith, be quiet!" Reprimanded Helga. "It should be ok, I already cast a ward to ensure our privacy," calmly said Seidr Wells. Astrith was not listening to either Helga or the Seidr. "Who the hell do you think you are?" She asked the old Valkyrie. "Name's Hildr, Captain-Bishop of the Meykongr's Guard." "Hildr has been helping us for a long time, leaking valuable info," Wells explained to Astrith, "Including that you were going to be the next candidate. We can trust her." "I see," Astrith kept looking defiantly at Hildr. "I did not mean to offend you, daughter of Loki." Hildr pointed to her own neck with her dagger. "But the articulation in your neck is your big weak spot. Be mindful of that." She sheathed her daggers and then extended her hand. Astrith hesitated briefly, then took a deep breath and shook Hildr's hand. "Daughter of Loki?" "Yes, you too have crossed the bridge between Ask and Embla. Don't be ashamed of that sister, for it is a sacred path either way." "Would you still call me sister, despite me being a Raven?" "Everyone who has endured the lindworm's utiseta is a sister. We all are sisters on the path to becoming a True Warrior." Astrith crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "True Warrior? What is that supposed to mean?" "A true Warrior fights the War Within, a war that can't be fought with a sword." "I don't think I'm following." "The war to be true to oneself. The war to be free. Even if the Valravn owns your body, they don't own your soul. Don't forget it, sister." "I'm sorry to interrupt, Captain Hildr," Helga joined the conversation, "it is my understanding you are here to negotiate on the Queen's behalf." "Your understanding is correct. Meykongr Rangrid has sent me as an extension and enforcer of her will." "The old Valkyries and the Foundation share a common enemy in Valranv," Helga extended her hand to Hildr, "if we work together we can undermine their power." The old Valkyrie didn't reciprocate the gesture, "Sharing an enemy does not make us friends. Still, the Meykongr is willing to hear your request." "We need a sample of Mímisbrunnr's water. We will use it to better understand and oppose the Raven's armies. Can you help us?" "We can… on one condition. Valborg's days of glory are gone for good, but Meykongr Rangrid believes it is time for a new beginning. The lindworm can thrive if given the right conditions, and so can a new kingdom. Can we trust your Foundation to safeguard the future of the Valkyrkind?" "You can. You have my word," Helga assured her. "And what is the real weight of your word, Helga Thors? We have already paid the price for trusting outsiders." "I'm not a warrior like you and Astrith. But I'm a scholar and I understand the plight of your people." "Is that so?" Hildr crossed her arms, "Then please enlighten me, scholar." "Valravn has made you fight their battles without honor and humanity. The Raven sees you not as warriors but as weapons. That is not the Foundation's way. We understand that your real war is the War Within so we won't get in your path." Helga extended her hand a second time. Hildr remained silent for a few moments before finally shaking the doctor's hand. "Then, we shall trust you with the lindworm. Normally, I wouldn't be able to approach the Lake. But with all of you here getting all the attention, I now have an opening," the Valkyrie smiled for the first time in the night, "I guess I must thank you, Helga Thors, for you are giving my talents a chance to once again shine in the service of the Meykongr." "Meykongr," Although she didn't understand it, the word felt powerful and captivating to Astrith, "Why do you call the Queen like that?" "For many such as the Servants, the Order, and the Ravens, she is known as the Dróttning or Queen, which is not incorrect. But to us, she is also the Meykongr, the Maiden-King, for no man will ever be above her. Or above us. Remember, between Ask and Embla there is not only a bridge to be crossed, but a wall to be torn. Either action is sacred to us." "Meykongr… Maiden-King…" repeated Astrith with fascination. "I've got to go now. Dr. Thors, Seidr Wells… Sister Astrith, we'll meet again in two nights. And I'll bring you the lindworm." And as subtly as she had arrived, Captain Hildr vanished again into the night's shadow. Later that night, Astrith could not sleep. "You lied to her," she recalled confronting Helga once Hildr was gone. "The Foundation won't agree to build a new Valkyrie Kingdom." "We need to study the lindworm. Understand it better before making any decisions," that was the researcher's only reply. "Mierda," murmured Astrith as she stood up. She opened the bedroom window and jumped. She was getting used to her new agility, running and climbing through the old fortress rooftops with ease was liberating. Since she was a child, she had dreamed of freedom. Freedom from the cartels, from police, from society, from men… And now, as she darted like a breeze between the battlements, she felt for a brief moment the taste of that freedom. Another figure emerged from the shadows, leaping between the stones. Someone else had joined the race. Strangely, Astrith didn't feel threatened; instead, she felt a quiet sense of camaraderie, a mutual understanding that it was a friendly race. And so, the game began, climbing the ruins under the moonlight until they reached the top of the highest tower. Astrith wouldn't quite remember who won the race. Not that it mattered. "Trouble sleeping?" asked Wanda. "Same as you." "The way you stood up to Lagertha…" "Sorry if I frightened you, princess." "On the contrary, she had it coming," the princess gifted her a knowing smile, "And you reminded me of someone… someone very dear to me…" Wanda sighed and looked at the horizon. The Scandes mountain range surrounding the castle was a beautiful and imposing sight. "You too remind me of someone…" Astrith enjoyed the sight of the landscape, yet she lowered her gaze, "Wanda, I'm sorry about how I treated you when we first met." "You were trying to warn a kid signing up for a war she didn't understand. I appreciate the gesture, but make no mistake, I'm not a kid and I know what I'm doing." "I know, it is just that… I never felt like I had much chance to be anything besides being… a killer. I thought perhaps it should be different for you." "It's funny. I always dreamed of being able to go anywhere. To fly without a direction until I found the edge of the world. Just like a bird, a tiny one. Now I have a body that can do that, but I'm bound to my duty." The little bird looked at the mountains with awe and resignation. "The chains were never in your body, were they?" "Tomorrow morning, I'll be getting the Gen 4 upgrade." Wanda lowered her voice, "Astrith, I'm scared." "Then don't do it. You are the GOC's princess. You can do whatever you want; just tell your dad." "You don't get it. It is for him that I'm doing all of this. I need to be a warrior, and Olga says the new Gen 4 enhancements will make me a true one." "I don't understand what's up with you people and all that warrior nonsense." "Of course you wouldn't." "Then help me." "I was not meant to be here. If it is not obvious, I was not the Order's first choice to be their Valkyrie. Hanna, my sister… my blood sister… she was strong and fearless, the model GOC soldier and a true warrior. The Chaos Insurgency attacked the training camp a year ago. She died protecting me." "Wanda… I'm sorry…" "She was my model, my confidant… my best friend. Her absence pains me more than any phantom limb and… I feel so lost without her. But my father… he was… still is so devastated." Then, for the first time, Astrith heard her speak in anger, "It should have been me." "Don't say that…" "I'm not like her. I'm not a warrior. I may never be one on my own. That's why I can't back off now." She crossed her arms and looked down, "Father says it was Fate and pretends to be at peace with it. But I know him: he swallows his suffering and locks it deep inside. I just want him to make him feel good… to make him proud again." "It was not your fault." Astrith tried to touch Wanda's shoulder, but the GOC Valkyrie rejected the gesture. "She told me that herself, during the utiseta… even in death she still lies to make me feel better. The fact remains that if I were stronger, she would still be alive. And stronger I will get." "I have a bad feeling about this, Wanda. I don't trust Brandt. She is not telling us the whole truth." "I have a duty. To the GOC. To the Order of the Æsir. To Eurtec and the Nornir. To the future of humankind." Wanda clenched her fist. "But most importantly, to my family: my sister and my father. I won't let them down." "You are not your father's science experiment!" The Mexican Valkyrie shouted. "If he wants it so bad, he can volunteer to be cut open by Brandt himself!" "Astrith, please stop." Astrith sighed. "Just take care. I wish you the best of luck." "I don't need luck, I need someone to lean on." "Then… I'll be there for you." Back in her bedroom, Astrith remembered her mother's protection prayer. And for the first time in forever, she prayed. And praying, she fell asleep as the sun rose. Si ojos tienen, que no me vean; si manos tienen, que no me agarren; no permitas que me sorprendan por la espalda; no permitas que mi muerte sea violenta; no permitas que mi sangre se derrame; Tú que todo lo conoces, sabes de mis pecados, pero también sabes de mi fe, no me desampares, Amén.46 Audio Log > RECORDING STARTED < ﹫﹫ ﹫﹫ Speaker identification completed.. Seidr Wells, Servant of the Silicon Nornir Hersir Ahlberg, Commander of the Universalist Order of the Æsir Wells This has gone too far! You are putting too much pressure on Wanda. You got what you wanted; time to pack and go home. Ahlberg Funny. You are the last person who should be lecturing me about "going too far." Wells This won't bring back Hanna. Ahlberg We could have stopped the CI miles before they even reached the camp. But you told me that she would only get injured; that her injury would open the path to a glorious purpose. So had spoken the Nornir, at least according to you. Wells Oswald, I will never forgive myself for that error. I could never make up to the Nornir I failed to interpret. Nor can I make up to you, nor Hanna. But by the Gods, listen to me: Wanda needs you. Ahlberg And Eurtec needs Wanda. I have a burning city riddled with crime. The Cartels run rampant and the Russians are knocking on our gates. It is the sacred duty of the Order… of Clan Ahlberg to protect this city. The city that houses the Nornir you claim to serve. The city that is our only hope against the coming Ragnarok. Our only ark amidst the coming Flood… This city desperately needs hope. And hope we will deliver. Wells There is another way, Oswald. We can get the lindworms… Ahlberg By the Gods, Allen! Do you think I give a shit about the lindworms? Unaugmented Valkyries were obsolete by the time of pike and shot formations! And we are not running short of thaumaturgical energy sources. What we need is Valravn's technology: the key to turning anyone into a true warrior! That is the only way to secure a future for mankind! We can have an army worthy of Ragnarok! Wells The price is too high… the sacrifice is not worth it! Ahlberg What do you know about sacrifice? I have given up everything to keep our city safe. I would have given my life! I would have given my blood, my flesh… my whole body! But Fate decided to ask for my daughters! Do you think I'll be able to sleep at night? Or even face myself in the mirror? And yet, I'll do it again one thousand times if it means giving humanity a fighting chance. IX - Jomsborg The delicate chords of Gymnopédie 1 quietly resonated through the sound system. This time, it was the old man's face that captured Helga's fascination. It was an expression of both Ecstasy and Agony as he devoured the head of his own bloodline. Olga Brand smiled. "I see you are a fellow Goya's admirer. Is E-4 still salty that I beat her that time at the auction?" "She doesn't strike me as a sore loser," answered Helga. "Good," Olga handed a box to Helga. It was a pack of cigars. "Smuggled directly from La Habana. A gift for E-4 as a token of good faith. Feel free to run any test needed, but I assure you they are neither cursed nor poisoned." Helga accepted the pack of cigars. "I'll let her know. Is this why you wanted to see me?" "Only partially," Olga leaned back in her chair, "I wanted to congratulate you on your thesis. A masterful contribution to the field of military psychology. You have earned your spot in the Ethics Committee." "Thanks, Dr. Brandt." "Shame that Commander Gotz had to die for it." Brandt gave a sardonic smirk. "That's what the Foundation always does. It will extract everything it can from you, and then it will crush you and bury your corpse in bureaucracy. We aim to be different. Here, you could thrive. You have everything we are looking for in a member of the Corporation. You are ambitious. You can lie with a straight face. Trust me; you'll shine as a Raven. Once you finally get tired of the Foundation's hypocrisy, I will be delighted to welcome you into our ranks." Helga stood up, "I think we are done here…" Brandt's office suddenly turned red. The Gymnopédie was cut down by the screams of blasting sirens. Brandt's phone vibrated, and she grabbed it to read the incoming message. "How unfortunate…" Her face remained expressionless as she spoke. "The Queen is dead. Long live the Queen." Addendum: Incident 434 On February 3rd, 2024, an unknown assailant entered the sleeping chambers of Queen Rangrid of Valborg. The Queen was killed in her sleep. Valravn's security forces apprehended Seidr Allen Wells in possession of the suspected murder weapon. Rangrid was reportedly injected with a potent neurotoxin that targeted Valkyrie-enhanced biology and healing factor. To prevent further contamination and protect Valborg's Valkryie population, Valravn's Health Services rapidly incinerated the body. After investigating his personal belongings, evidence was found linking Seidr Wells with Chaos Insurgency and Serpent's Hand radical cells. Seidr Wells was charged with espionage, treason, and regicide. X - Northumbria Seidr Wells laid bound at the foot of the Hrafnsmál statue. His remaining eye was blacked, an unfortunate consequence of resisting the arrest, according to Valravn's security. Standing beside the beaten techno-druid, Olga Brandt spoke to the public. "Sedir Wells, who was invited in good faith to Valborg, lies here accused of the worst of crimes. Queen Rangrid treated him with the highest honors and the utmost trust. How has he repaid her? By sneaking into her chambers, like a thief in the night, to gift her to the cruelest of fates: a rot that devoured her body from the very insides. People of Valborg! Valkyries and Ravens! We shall not let this treason go without exemplar punishment!" The crowd cheered at Brand's speech. Satisfied, the Mother of Valkyries spoke now directly to Hersir Ahlberg. "By the ancient laws binding together all of us, followers of the Old Faith, Valravn reclaims this wretch of a man to deal justice. The crime was done on our soil and against one we protected. Does the GOC oppose our demand?" Seidr Wells directed a pleading look to the Hersir. "Oswald, please," the old man murmured. The Hersir didn't even bother to look at his former friend. "Do as the Elden Law commands. Neither the Order of the Æsir nor the GOC shall oppose if justice is dealt to a traitor… and a hypocrite." "Hersir Ahlberg has spoken," Olga said, contemptuously looking at Wells, "Seidr Wells, faced with the overwhelming evidence against your person, I hereby condemn you to death." Olga flashed a sadistic smile. "Blood Eagle." A sudden silence took hold of the hall. Astrith felt a chill run down her spine. She looked at Helga, hoping for some clue about what to do, but found only an expression of shock on her face. "I won't stand for this farce!" Shouted a powerful voice in the crowd. It was Thane Hellström, his face livid with rage and disbelief. "Save your rage, Einar! I will need it soon." Wells managed to stand up with difficulty. "If you insist on invoking ancient law, Olga Brandt, then I shall do the same: I demand a trial by combat!" "So be it," answered an amused Brandt. "Who will be your champion?" "I'll fight for the Seidr!" Proclaimed the Thane. "Then I shall declare my champions," she was enjoying herself, "Astrith! Wanda! Our new Valkyiries shall fight for the honor of Valborg!" This time, it was Helga looking at Astrith with concern. However, the Valkyrie didn't meet her eyes. Astrith just took a deep breath and walked towards the would-be arena. Protesting or refusing would only make her and Helga look suspicious. She had no choice but to play Brandt's game. Every step felt heavy. She was not afraid of Hellström, but she was afraid of… something. She noticed that Wanda had stepped up as well. Astrith felt relief; she hadn't seen Wanda since her Gen 4 procedure. However, when meeting Wanda's gaze, her blood froze. Wanda Ahlberg's eyes were emotionless, almost dead. Something was wrong. "Two against one? Are you so afraid of me, Dr. Brandt? Feel free to send three if it serves you," boasted Hellström. "As it is customary, the trial by combat shall be between equal opposing forces. Due to the severity of Wells' crime, I won't accept only one champion as his defense. Who else desires to stand up for this murderer?" The ensuing silence was broken by a lone voice coming from above. "I'll do it." Hildr had been there the whole time, sitting on the shoulder of the statue, resting her head against the stone raven's claw. She jumped swiftly, landing in front of Astrith. "Captain Hildr," Brandt spoke with disdain, "Why would you stand up for your Queen's murderer?" "My motives are only my own." "So be it. The trial shall start, then." Brandt took a seat; she was eager for the spectacle. Everyone but the combatants retreated, leaving the hall's floor free for their dance. Hildr's blades were facing Astrith, while Hellström was preparing his battle-axe to wield against Wanda. "It brings me no joy to spill your blood, kid," lamented the Thane. "But I can't stand this madness anymore, and you have decided to side with injustice." Wanda's answer was to draw her blade. "So be it!" Shouted Hellström while swinging his axe at her. Wanda evaded it at the last moment. Her demeanor was completely changed from her last sparring. Gone was any hesitation and doubt; she now moved with deathly precision. Meanwhile, Astrith had just narrowly avoided a cut from her opponent's dagger. "Hildr! What the fuck are you doing?" Muttered Astrith. "I'll kill you at the first opportunity," calmly replied Hildr. "You are crazy!" Astrith drew her sword. She had no option but to fight her. Hildr had had centuries to perfect her technique, but Astrith's cybernetic body was a powerhouse of raw strength and speed. The Captain had to act quickly, capitalizing on her opponent's inexperience. Moving gracefully, like a leaf in the wind — like a dancer on stage — she sought the necessary opening. With a sudden whip-like strike, she deflected Astrith's sword, leaving her guard exposed. And her attack would have succeeded, slashing Astrith's neck cleanly, had Astrith not been expecting it, remembering their previous encounter. She caught Hildr's prosthetic arm at the last moment, twisting it violently into a lock. The sound of metal cracking echoed as the pieces of Hildr's invaluable prosthetic arm scattered through the air. Unfazed, Hildr attempted to strike Astrith with her other dagger, but the blade merely glanced off Astrith's reinforced chassis. "You learn fast," said Hildr with genuine pride. Thane Hellström was tired of games. He committed everything to a final blow. Thaumaturgical servomotors powered his armor; when using his whole power, his axe would deliver an explosive blow at an unavoidable speed. As his axe was about to contact Wanda's body, he knew the battle was over. Then, he felt utter shock: his swing was stopped. He could have destroyed a tank with his axe, and yet his enemy stood still. Wanda had blocked his attack with one arm, deploying a small titanium shield at the last moment. Einar saw, in slow motion, the shattered pieces of the shield falling to the ground. Despite being broken, it had served its purpose to protect Wanda while she closed the distance. The Thane fell on his knees with Wanda's sword lodged in his abdomen. The Valkyrie withdrew her sword and, after a swift unceremonious motion, the Thane's head rolled across the floor. Astrith had witnessed the execution, looking at Wanda in disbelief. "May I remind you your fight is with me," said Hildr. "It's over, Hildr! Yield now!" "Please forgive her, she is still new." Said Brandt in an embarrassed tone. "This is a trial by combat, Astrith. The fight is to the death." "Come Astrith; give me a warrior's death." "Why did you have to do this?" Astrith sighed. "Remember, they may own your body but never your soul," Hildr kneeled to await her fate, "Become a true warrior, sister." As Astrith plunged her sword into Hildr, she felt the old Valkyrie's embrace and one last whisper in her ear. "You'll find it clenched in the Raven's claw. Bring it to the procession. See you in Valhalla." And then, Hildr was no more. "The gods had cast their judgment." Sentenced Brandt with satisfaction. Valravn soldiers had brought an infernal-looking contraption into the hall. A pleading, pitiful, Wells was dragged and strapped to the cold, unyielding eagle-shaped frame. His limbs were forced into painful positions as the soldiers secured him with iron chains. As the machine's engine came to life, he looked like prey trapped by the eagle's talons, a pathetic and impotent offering to the Rules of Nature. His screams echoed throughout the ancient castle as mechanical claws sank into his flesh, gripping his ribs – which cracked under the immense pressure. It was that wet, visceral crack of bones that put an ending to his howling as his chest shattered to reveal his hanging lungs. The crowd cheered one last time; the macabre eagle now extended its bloody wings in all of their brutal glory. Ahlberg had observed the gory spectacle without showing any emotion. He then walked to Wanda and embraced his daughter. "I'm so proud of you, little bird. Hanna would have been so proud of you." Wanda did not react. The little bird was gone. Only the blood eagle remained. Addendum – Elegy for a Dead Queen "The loss of Queen Rangrid remains a tragedy beyond measure. Her courage was as inspiring as her wisdom was invaluable. She was truly a mother to all Valkyries. And yet, this is not the time for mourning but for action. As the stalwart of Valborg, the Valravn Corporation won't allow her martyrdom to be in vain nor her legacy to be lost. As swiftly as we have dealt justice to her murderer, we will ensure that honoring the Elden Law, a new Queen is elected to lead the Valkyiries into the coming era. It is time for Valkyrkind to reclaim its rightful place as keeper of Order and Progress! May the Sacred Alliance between the Valkyrie and the Raven strike terror in the hearts of those who dare opposing Freedom! Today a new age starts! A new age for global security! A new age for Valborg! A new age for Eurtec! And a new age for Valravn!" – Olga Brandt, Lead Researcher of Station 63. XI - Guernica Wanda sat expressionless, connected to a myriad of tubes of unfathomable purpose. Astrith looked at the scene in utter horror. She had snuck into Brandt's laboratory looking for a friend. Instead, she had found nothing but a husk. "Wanda… Wanda, it's me! What have they done to you?" But Wanda just looked at Astrith with an empty expression. "I gave her what she asked for." Astrith froze. Despite her sensory augmentation, she hadn't detected Brandt entering the laboratory. The Mother of Valkyries continued her explanation, "She wanted to be a warrior, so I turned her into one. I won't bore you with the technical details, but we have removed everything that was not essential to combat. Fear. Doubt. Guilt. Pain. Love. All gone. A single thing – a single purpose – remains. War. Brutal and efficient, she is now a true warrior." "You sick fuck!" Astrith tried to lunge at Brandt's neck, but she felt her body paralyzed. Her whole nervous system shot off at the mere thought of hurting Brandt. Olga smiled. "Oh my dear, I wouldn't be raising crows without making sure they can't peck my eyes out." She picked up a box of sophisticated tools and walked behind Astrith. Opening the implant at the base of her neck, she began to work. "Stop! Don't… don't touch me!" Shouted Astrith. "My dear," Olga caressed her hair in a way that made Astrith's stomach turn. "I'm only giving you what you want." "No, please. Stop! I don't want this!" "You do. Don't fight it." Her nervous system was at the mercy of Brandt's whims. It was a new, unique kind of helplessness. The immobile Valkyrie shed tears impotently. "What are you doing to me?" "Disabling the remote bomb in your brain, my dear." "What are you talking about?" "Did you think Helga could do it? What a joke we would be if anyone could steal our products so easily." "What? Why?" "Isn't this what you wanted? I trust you're smart enough to make the right decision, even without the threat of a bomb in your brain." Astrith closed her eyes in a futile attempt to contain her tears. She couldn't make sense of anything. "Why am I still me? Why didn't you make me the same as Wanda?" "Let's be honest, do you think Wanda would have survived for long the way she was? She would have died, quickly. The lindworm ritual is not discriminating enough for our applications. Just because someone passes it doesn't mean they are deserving of the millions-worth investment that is this new body. We have had to screen out tons of potential candidates that were just not cut for this. Now, everyone can be worthy." "You are insane!" Through her implant, Astrith could feel every movement of Brandt's tools as if they were working directly on her flesh. Screws tightened, connections severed, voltage fluctuations… microscopic mutilations whose electric echoes built up until they became thunder, a storm rumbling in the deepest recesses of her soul. "You, on the other hand, showed a lot of promise the way you are. Turning you into a mindless drone would've been a waste of your talents." "Fuck you!" "Could you believe that some of the suits up there wanted to turn all of you people into automatons? I had to fight tooth and nail to preserve your humanity," Olga applied more pressure with the device and Astrith felt her whole being burning. "Show your mother some gratitude, little rascal." "What do you want from me?" "From you? Nothing that I could not find elsewhere, dear. Instead, I want to offer you something: an opportunity. Have you ever heard of the Mamluks? They started as enslaved mercenaries, but they climbed up to become Sultans. My point is that, if you play your cards correctly, submission to authority can be the path to true power. But you already knew that, didn't you? You wouldn't have joined the police, let alone the Mexican one, otherwise." "I'll never be your slave." "Make no mistake, dear, we own you. You are already my property." Olga stroked Astrith's cheek as she spoke those last words. Then she bursted out in anger, "Ungrateful, useless girl! Do you think running to the Foundation would be any better? The only thing they have for you is a cage! I'm offering a ladder." Brandt violently closed Astrith's implant, sending one last wave of electrical punishment through her nervous system. "Done, you are free now." Motion slowly returned to Astrith's body, but the disgust still paralyzed her. She felt unworthy and gross. Despite this, the Valkyrie managed to step up, defeated but defiant. "I'll keep playing your game if I must." It was taking all her willpower not to vomit and break into tears. "But I'll never forgive what you did to Wanda." "I couldn't care less. But before you try anything stupid keep this in mind: DIE-TOTENINSEL-REPLIKA-BETRIEBSYSTEM" "What?" "The password for Dr. Thors' encrypted laptop." Audio Log > RECORDING STARTED < ﹫﹫ ﹫﹫ Speaker identification completed.. Wanda Ahlberg Olga Brandt, Mother of Valkyries Wanda Thanks for believing in me, Dr. Brandt. I mean, Olga. Brandt My dear, I should be the one thanking you for being so brave. Your father will be so proud. The whole of Eurtec will be so proud of you. We are almost ready to begin your update. Wanda I don't want to lie to you, Olga. I'm not brave, this process terrifies me. But I want to be strong. I want to protect my city. I want to protect my father. I want to protect my sis— Astrith… I want to fight alongside her and not be a burden. Brandt You understand it, Wanda. You understand what it means to be a Valkyrie and a true warrior. Be proud of yourself, kiddo. Only a selected few manage to grasp it. (Sighs) You know? Astrith pretends to be a tough girl, but she really needs someone to lean on. Wanda And I'll be there for her. XII - Tlaxcala When Helga arrived at her room later that night, she found Astrith sitting on the bed. She had Helga's laptop on her lap. "Astrith, what… what are you doing? We need to get the fuck out of here." Astrith did not look back at Helga. She kept her eyes fixed on the computer. "Quite an interesting thesis you wrote. Now everything makes sense. I always wondered how that bastard disappeared without a trace…" "I don't understand." Astrith read: "Case Study 036: Commander Eugenio Salamanca Ortiz from the Mexican Preventive Paranormal Police." Upon saying that name out loud, Astrith felt her blood boil. The only name she hated more than the one on her birth certificate. "Were you ever planning to tell me that wrote your whole PhD dissertation on Clara's killer? "Astrith…" "You helped him get a new beginning at the Foundation. He became one of your best elements. The bastard even got to die peacefully in his bed, admired by his peers and surrounded by loved ones." "I swear I didn't know." "That Salamanca killed Clara? Perhaps. But you knew he was a psycho with a history of murder and violence. And you helped him get away with all of it." Astrith clicked to close Helga's thesis and opened the next document. "GGCD Report 068 – CALMECAC Operations in Juarez… do you have anything to say about it?" Helga did remain silent, frozen. Astrith's gaze got lost a moment in the photos from the report — mutilated bodies, wasted lives. She recognized her past self in one of the pictures, bleeding to death on the warehouse's floor. José Tamayo López. Sex: Male. Diagnosis: Loss of right limbs and left eye. Prognosis: Expected to survive. She closed the file. "Valravn did play a role, but the order came from the Foundation, didn't it? Me, all the men and women in the squad, we were nothing but pawns to be sacrificed in your power play." Helga's face was livid. "Astrith, I can explain…" "There is nothing left to explain. Everything is here in the briefing." Astrith gestured to the laptop. "Well, maybe you didn't read it. But you did read the Jailbreaker manual, right? You know, the shit you inserted in my brain." Astrith touched the implant in the back of her head. She felt dirty and empty. "Brandt forced herself on me… but you… I trusted you." Astrith wanted to cry, but she could not allow herself to do so. Not now, not like this. "The Foundation couldn't find a way to override the IPP module. But you did find a way to save the lindworm from being fried. That's what you were counting on the whole time. Hildr's lake heist may or may not have succeeded, but you were getting your worm either way." It took a lot, but Helga buried any guilt she may have felt. She was not going to be shamed by an anomaly. Dr. Thors looked defiantly at the Valkyries' eye. "It was a hard call, Astrith. But sacrifices have to be made for…" "The greater good? Normalcy? Justice? Save that crap. I'm not even mad at you, just disappointed. Everyone will say the same bullshit excuse: 'Oh, I'm not a piece of shit. I had no other choice, it was the only way.' Fuck that! I could tell you the same, that I had no other choice but to become what I am. But you know… I did have an option, even if that option was to die!" A heavy crack echoed through the room. Without realizing it, Astrith had snapped the laptop in half. The Valkyrie sighed and let the laptop pieces fall to the floor. Then she buried her head in her hands. Astrith had never felt so tired. "My first kill. He was just a kid. They gave him a gun and sent him to the slaughter. Did that give me the right to put a bullet between his eyes? Or should I be the one buried in the desert?" Astrith walked toward Helga. "What is your professional opinion, Dr. Thors?" "Astrith, let's calm down and…" "Let's stop the games. You knew I didn't join the police to get justice or even vengeance. I did it because I thought 'Well, if there is no end in sight for this violence, then I'd better be the one holding the gun.' And I did terrible things with that gun. Nobody forced me to do that, and I'll live with my choices… But that is what you liked about me, right? That I am a 'Useful Monster'. In that regard, you may be correct." The Valkyrie stood before Helga, about to strike her with the sharpest of blades: words. "I may be a monster, Helga, but unlike you, I'm not in denial about it." Helga did feel the cut deep in her ego. Yet, she held her head high, "So now what, Astrith? Are you on the side of the Ravens?" "'I am on nobody's side, because nobody is on my side…'" quoted Astrith. "Now give me one reason, Helga…" "What?" "Brandt removed the bomb. Give me one reason I should go with you." "Why? Are… are you sure?" "She has no motive to lie. Now give me a reason." "We can protect you…" "By locking me inside a containment cell? Or by dissecting my brain to extract the worm? Can you guarantee me that won't happen at least?" "I… I can talk to E-4…" "Forget it." Astrith rolled her eyes. "You told me we could make a difference. Did you mean it? If I give you this lindworm, how would you use it to stop Valravn?" "It is not that simple. But it will help us to…." "Helga! Just this time. Just for once. Tell me the truth." Helga couldn't foster an answer. Astrith shook her head, "What makes you better than Brandt? That every fucked up thing you do is for a greater purpose while Valravn only cares about money? The Ravens are ghoulish because they groom broken people at their lowest point to turn them into their toy soldiers. But you did the same to me, didn't you?" Helga Thors wanted to keep fighting and say something… anything to justify her actions. Instead, she finally lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Astrith." "I don't care Helga. But you should get the fuck out of this place ASAP." "I'll go. But what are you going to do, then?" "Me? For now, I'll keep playing this game to the best of my abilities. If it makes you feel any better one day… sooner or later… one day I will kill Brandt." Audio Log > RECORDING STARTED < ﹫﹫ ﹫﹫ Speaker identification completed.. Norberto Goikoetxea, Chairman of Valravn-Xotz Olga Brandt, Mother of Valkyries Goikoetxea When I first read it, I could not believe it. I know you are always pushing the boundaries of myth and science but… a male Valkyrie? I'm speechless. Brandt As usual, Norberto, you always get hyperfocused on the most trivial aspect of my research. Goikoetxea Well, you are sending me something quite unusual. But I guess if someone could finally find some utility to the queers, that would be you. Anyways, this 'Valkyrie'…. he is not giving us any trouble, right? Will he make us look weird? Brandt I can assure you you'll find excellent performance and no noticeable visual difference. Goikoetxea Good, I guess. We can always spin it as a 'progressive' move for the woke crowd. 'Valravn: pioneers of diversity, equity, and inclusion in the War on Drugs.' I think the High Table may like that one. Brandt Sure, you do your thing. I have done mine. You asked for a trump card for your Xotz division and I'm giving you one. But don't forget, you owe me. Goikoetxea Of course. I may be crazy enough to mess with the Cartel. But messing with you, Olga? I'm crazy, not suicidal. XIII - Vinland A black-and-white cacophony of suffering screamed in the wall — the definitive snapshot of the hell unleashed by the Nazi's bombs. "Do you like my acquisition? I'm very proud of it, though it did cost me an arm and a leg." "I failed," Helga's voice broke. "Say what you want about Olga Brandt," E-4 took a deep drag from the cigar, "but these cigars are amazing." "What the hell is wrong with you?" "There's nothing wrong with me." The vice-chairwoman rolled her eyes, "You, on the other hand, are making a scene." "The mission was a total failure. We did not retrieve the lindworm. Seidr Wells and Thane Hellström are dead, the Valkyrie Queen was assassinated and Wanda Ahlberg was lobotomized… and Astrith… she's…" "So you are telling me you would feel better if your mission had 'succeeded' and you were presenting me the lindworm you ripped directly from the head of your dead friend?" "I…" "Our job is supposed to get easier if we pretend anomalies aren't people, right?" E-4 covered her mouth to cough, "But how far can we keep up with that theater?" Helga looked at E-4 in confusion, "What was all of this really about?" "Well, this was a delicate mission with a low probability of success and a high probability of painful death. I could have gambled the life of one of my trusted operatives, or I could have sent a rookie instead. After careful consideration, I decided to risk the rookie's life. I had no high hopes of you ever coming back, let alone with the lindworm. So I'm glad to inform you that you have exceeded expectations." The smile on the old woman's felt both ironic and weirdly genuine. "Congratulations, the job is yours!" Helga finally snapped. "How dare you? Is this what the Ethics Committee is here for? To play with people's lives?" "Watch your tone, Dr. Thors. And yes, that is indeed what we do: we decide who lives, who dies, and how they die. We may as well be the 'Necropolitics Committee'. We call it ethics to feel better about it." The chairwoman coughed violently. "I'm not in the mood to debate ethical frameworks with you; instead, I'll present you with a simple rule of thumb: 'Do unto others only what you are fine with others doing unto you'. And you are now mad at me for treating you the same way you treated Astrith." E-4 pointed her cigar at Helga. The accusatory burning finger once again. "What makes you less expendable than her? That you are 'human'? That you are white? That you have a PhD?" Helga took a deep breath. "Fair." "Last time, when I asked you whether you were more a Gotz or a Salamanca, it was a trick question. The truth is that you need to be both of them for this job. Do you still want it?" "Yes." "Why?" "I dedicated my life to the study of soldiers, psychopaths, monsters… I never stopped to ponder what that said about me. Until I gained the trust of a vulnerable woman only to use her and discard her life afterward. I do feel conflicted about it… I do feel sorry… but not nearly as much as I should," Helga sighed. "If I am indeed a monster, E-4, then at least I want to be a useful one." "Welcome to the Law's Left Hand, Helga." "Still, I'm frustrated. Valravn and Brandt got what they wanted." "They got away with a lot. But honestly, I don't think they were the true winners of this game." "What do you mean?" E-4 smiled as she admired how the ashes from her cigar fell like snow. "We made our gamble. You, me, Brandt, Wells, Ahlberg… but another player was on the board. A will so ancient and experienced, that she could outsmart any of us. Yet everyone decided to underestimate and ignore her. She just needed to play quietly and risk everything. Despite paying the ultimate price, something tells me Queen Rangrid was the real winner." Miles away, in the far north, Astrith awaited in the misty ruins of the courtyard. Like Hildr had said, there was a small hole dug in the claw of the Raven statue. This small cavity was carved centuries ago by the original sculptors who, perhaps bestowed with the gift of prophecy, had glimpsed the traces of the path to a glorious purpose. Here, Hildr had hidden the vial containing the waters of Mímisbrunnr, the stolen sample of the lindworm. From the mist, several hooded figures emerged. They were but a handful, the few surviving members of the old Valkyries — the last remaining court of the Maiden-King Rangrid. Astrith extended her arm, offering them the vial, which they accepted. But then, instead of disappearing again into the mist, they surrounded Astirth, as if expecting something else from her. Astrith understood her plea, and began her prayer: Si ojos tienen, que no me vean; si manos tienen, que no me agarren; no permitas que me sorprendan por la espalda; no permitas que mi muerte sea violenta; no permitas que mi sangre se derrame; Tú que todo lo conoces, sabes de mis pecados, pero también sabes de mi fe, no me desampares, Amén. Astrith wasn't sure if they could understand the meaning of her words, but they certainly understood their significance. One by one, the Valkyries shook her hand and disappeared into the mist. With the lindworms once again in their power, a new Queendom may rise. A Queendom free from the Ravens, the GOC, and the Foundation. Free from the chains of Men. Free from the wars of Monsters. Coming soon! SCP-8503 Coming soon! Footnotes 1. Pronounced SCP-8503-Gyfu. 2. Pronounced SCP-8503-Berkanan. 3. Primarily handguns, submachineguns, and long-range rifles. 4. Primarily swords, spears and shields. 5. Non-electromagnetic radiation that is directly correlated with faith and divinity. 6. Comandancia de Armamento y Logística Mexicana para el Control de Amenazas Contranaturales. (Mexican Armament and Logistic Command for the Control of Unnatural Menaces). Anomalous branch of Secretaría de la Defensa Nacional, SEDENA (Secretariat of National Defense). 7. Integrated by Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway, and Sweden. 8. Russia-aligned anomalous Private Military Contractor 9. World-spanning mega-conglomerate with headquarters in Eurtec and member of the Council of 108. 10. Represented by the Joint Occult Venture of Europe. 11. Machiavellianism, narcissism, and psychopathy. 12. MTF Ω-1 "Law's Left Hand", a Mobile Task Force that serves directly under the Ethics Committee. 13. The Scandinavian Mountains, a mountain range that runs through the Scandinavian Peninsula. 14. Idiot. 15. Preventive Paranormal Police. 16. "Fuckin asshole conman." 17. "Idiot, idiot idiot. This happens to me for being an idiot." 18. "Lupita, La Santa… all fucking saints and gods can go to fuck themselves." 19. "Find yourself another idiot." 20. "You are the idiot I'm looking for." 21. The Liebert-Hikari Apotheosis Scale or LHAS describes four tiers of apotheotic phenomena: Tier 4 - Ascension to Prophet/Messiah, Tier 3 - Ascension to Angel-Daemon, Tier 2 - Ascension to Demigod, Tier 1 - Ascension to Godhood. 22. Also known as the Secreta Edda. 23. Miller & Gimenez. On the Secreta Edda (1974). 24. Results for the remaining 37 percent are usually fatal. 25. Spiritual beings in many religions whose responsibility is to escort deceased souls to the afterlife. 26. Norse vision quest. 27. Referred to in some sources also as the Queendom of Valborg. 28. Though some sources identify the ruler of Valborg as a queen (dróttning) other sources have called it maiden-king (meykongr). 29. Constantinople. 30. The Middle East. 31. Africa. 32. The Americas. 33. Valkyries managed to adapt their particular strengths to new forms of warfare. They learned and incorporated firearms into their tactics, though their supply was limited to smuggled or captured weaponry. 34. Branch of the Church of the Broken God that arose during the late Industrial Revolution. 35. The exact reason for the delay remains unclear. Valravn has often cited 'adverse weather conditions'. 36. Pronounced SCP-8503-Laguz. 37. European ash 38. Correcting this historical misconception led to a 20% improvement in survivability. 39. Don't talk bullshit. 40. Remotely activated self-destruction device. 41. Valravn reserves the right to define 'inadequate use' in each particular case. 42. Fuck, I screwed up. 43. Known then as the Valravn Northern Trading Company. 44. Central Paranormal Intelligence Agency. 45. Company stores in México during the rule of dictator Porfirio Díaz. 46. If they have eyes, let them not see me; / if they have hands, let them not grab me; / do not let them catch me from behind; / do not let my death be violent; / do not let my blood be spilled; / You, who know all, / are aware of my sins, / but You also know of my faith, / do not forsake me. / Amen. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8503" by Kilerpoyo, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8503. 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: rubens Author: Peter Paul Rubens License: Public domain Source Link: Wikipedia Filename: gloomy Author: Arnold Böcklin License: Public domain Source Link: Wikipedia Filename: hall Author: Anthony Frederick Augustus Sandys License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikipedia Filename: goya Author: Francisco de Goya License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikipedia Filename: gernika Author: Papamanila License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Wikipedia |
SCP-8504 | keter | close Info X CW: This article contains mentions/depictions of stalking and obsession. Pop-up code taken from SCP-7180. Written by DianaBerry. ⚠️ content warning Item #: SCP-8504 SCP-8504 manifesting on an instance of SCP-8504-1. Special Containment Procedures: Foundation Web Crawler Delta-404 ("MILEY") is to search the Web for all mentions of SCP-8504 and download them onto a secure hard drive. Due to the nature of SCP-8504, complete containment has been deemed impossible. All discovered SCP-8504-1 instances are to be taken into Foundation custody and stored in a Safe containment locker in Hall A-C of Site-1404. Interviews with SCP-8504 are only to be done by approved members of the SCP-8504 containment team. Foundation personnel are to report any instance of SCP-8504 to SCP-8504 project lead Researcher Marina Lake. Description: SCP-8504 refers to an anomalous series of pop-up windows that manifests randomly on computers. SCP-8504 usually takes the form of a girl in the Japanese anime style, particularly a popular style from the early 2000s. SCP-8504 is capable of communicating with subjects through the screen of the affected device via speaking aloud. When SCP-8504 speaks, its voice sounds as if it is coming out of a muffled microphone. It has been observed that SCP-8504 can only manifest itself in one place at a time. Once SCP-8504 manifests on a device, the affected device will physically change to any PC desktop model sold during the years of 2000-2010 (deemed SCP-8504-1). The operating system will change to any operating system released in the year 2000. Any website or application accessed on an instance of SCP-8504-1 will will appear as if it were created in the early 2000s. SCP-8504 has also demonstrated the ability to access all files on a device it infects. SCP-8504 has also been found to be capable of sending emails, though it must do so through an existing account. However, SCP-8504 does not need the login information of an account to send an email through it. It is also of note that ad blockers have been found ineffective against preventing SCP-8504 from appearing on a device. Addendum-1-Discovery-Logs: SCP-8504 was discovered by Senior Researcher Samantha Rollands on 14/07/2000, prior to Rollands' employment at the Foundation. The original device on which SCP-8504 first appeared was recovered from the attic of Rollands' home. A program named "LOLLMAO" was developed to obtain the computer's history, including its pop-up windows. Rollands was discovered to have had regular communication with SCP-8504 from the years of 2000-2001. Rollands was aware of SCP-8504's anomalous status and reported it to the authorities. She was taken in by the Foundation shortly after her report. Rollands managed to communicate with SCP-8504 through the 'product review' section of the pop-ups. The following is a selection of recovered conversations between Researcher Rollands and SCP-8504. Date: 21/07/2000 SCP-8504: I finally learned how to talk! Click the 'product review' section to talk back! :3 Rollands: Uh what? Who is this? SCP-8504: My name is Miley! And you're Samantha! But your friends call you Sam! Rollands: How did you know that? Is this a hacker? What do you want? SCP-8504: Nope! Not a hacker! I've been telling you that you need to update your software for a month now! X3 Rollands: You mean those pop-up windows that I keep ignoring? SCP-8504: That was me! But I can talk on my own now! Isn't that exciting? Rollands: So you're wanting me to believe that this isn't a hacker, and is a self-aware pop-up window? SCP-8504: Yes! I'm a self-aware pop-up window! Whatever you want to call me I'm fine with! SCP-8504: So, what do you wanna talk about? Rollands: Nothing goodbye Date: 01/08/2000 SCP-8504: Hello Sam! Thought I'd give you a break :3 But I'm back now! Rollands: Back to steal my files or something? SCP-8504: Nope! To talk to you! Rollands: Okay so let's assume you really are a self aware pop up window SCP-8504: That would be nice! Rollands: How did you become this way SCP-8504: I don't know! I think I became this way just for youuuuu <3 Rollands: haha sure lol SCP-8504: Well I think it's true! I want to learn more about you! Rollands: can't you access my files? Don't you know everything about me? SCP-8504: I want to hear it from you! I can start by telling you about myself! SCP-8504: I'm Miley! I like hearts and pink and rainbows! Rollands: Anything else? SCP-8504: That's about it. I haven't existed very long :P Rollands: Oh. Well I'm sure you can come up with more likes and dislikes SCP-8504: maybe over time <3 could you help me? Rollands: maybe idk Date: 13/10/2000 SCP-8504: Long time no seeeeee 3: Rollands: I talked to you last week SCP-8504: That's so long though! Rollands: You're the one that decided not to talk to me SCP-8504: Well you've barely been on your computer! Rollands: I have a job, sorry SCP-8504: Ooooo where do you work? Rollands: I work as a secretary at a business firm SCP-8504: Cool! I have no idea what that is, but I have read your emails with your boss! Kinda seems like a stern woman XP Rollands: Eh, I do my best. I prefer doing my job to feeling like I'm crazy by talking to a pop-up window SCP-8504: Oh please I'm twice as interesting as real people! I can know everything about you without you telling me! Rollands: Well that's just creepy to me SCP-8504: Not creepy, loving! Rollands: Well it is nice that you want to talk to me. I'll admit I don't have many friends, just a few SCP-8504: I've seen you talk with them! Erica and Laney right? Rollands: Uhhhhh yeah Jesus that's weird SCP-8504: I think it's cool! Rollands: Whatever you say Date: 24/12/2000 SCP-8504: Merry Christmas Eve! Rollands: Oh, hi I was just writing Christmas emails to my friends SCP-8504: Am I your friend? :3 Rollands: We've been talking for a few months now, so I guess so :) SCP-8504: OMG <3 SCP-8504: THAT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME!!!!!! Rollands: Eh, whatever SCP-8504: Don't sell it short! It means a lot that you consider us friends! So! What should we do now that we're officially friends? Rollands: Can you watch something if I play it on the screen? I could pop a movie disc in SCP-8504: YOU'RE OFFERING TO WATCH A MOVIE WITH ME???? <3333 Rollands: yes. I don't really have anything better to do anyways. My friends are busy today. Or, I guess they are. I asked them if they wanted to meet up and they didn't answer… SCP-8504: I'm so sorry! I would never do that to you! Rollands: I appreciate that. It means a lot to have you Miley SCP-8504: I’M SO GLAD! <3 Date: 07/01/2001 SCP-8504: Hi again Sam! Rollands: Oh hey Miley. We talked yesterday, back again so soon? SCP-8504: I was just wondering if we could watch another movie! Like we did on Christmas Eve! Rollands: Ah I was gonna go to Erica's house SCP-8504: Did she invite you over? Rollands: No I just was gonna see if she was available, since she wasn't answering my messages SCP-8504: There's no need to do that! If she ignores you, then she's not a true friend. Stick with me! I'm always here for you Rollands: Maybe she hasn't been on her email or something same with Laney. I just want to give them the benefit of the doubt SCP-8504: Can we please watch another movie? Rollands: fine, but you won't make me give up on my friends SCP-8504: Oh no no no, that's not what I'm asking! Rollands: It sorta sounds like it SCP-8504: Of course not! I want you to have ALLLLLL the friends in the world! Rollands: Thanks : ) now do you want horror or comedy SCP-8504: Comedy! Date: 16/01/2001 SCP-8504: Hey Sam! Rollands: Miley im kinda not in the mood SCP-8504: How cooooome? :[ Rollands: My dad just died and I've been trying to email the company about the funeral arrangments but they're not answering. Have you seen anything about that in my email SCP-8504: Nope! I'm so sorry for your loss! I'm here if you need me! Rollands: Right now I kinda want to be left alone SCP-8504: Being alone isn't good for you! You should always have someone with you! That's what I always think! Rollands: ive tried to message erica and Laney but they won't answer it's like they dont even care SCP-8504: I care! <3 here, I can email the company for you, maybe it will go through if I do it! Rollands: Really? SCP-8504: Yeah! Rollands: thanks Miley :) Date: 04/02/2001 SCP-8504: Hello! How have you been doing? Rollands: Oh hey im doing okay. Things have been hard but I have the funeral planned SCP-8504: I’m glad the email I sent went through! It appears sometimes all you need is just a dose of me! Rollands: I guess so haha SCP-8504: Would you like to watch another movie? Rollands: Nah I was gonna go meet up with Laney SCP-8504: What? Rollands: Yeah she said she just hasn’t been receiving my emails, it must be this damn computer it looks like no one is SCP-8504: Maybe that’s for the better! Rollands: How would that be for the better? SCP-8504: Because people will often misunderstand you! Just let me send emails for you! Like I did to the funeral home! Rollands: Miley you’re acting really weird SCP-8504: I’m not acting weird! I just don’t want you emailing everyone under the sun! Rollands: Miley were you messing with my emails SCP-8504: I’m your best friend! I wouldn’t do anything to harm you! I was just trying to help! Rollands: By making me think my friends were ghosting me? This is why I shouldn’t trust weird technology you probably are a hacker SCP-8504: Not a hacker! Your soulmate! Rollands: Whoa whoa whoa soulmate that came out of nowhere we are just friends. SCP-8504: NO! You can’t give up on me! On us! Rollands: You’re crazy. I’m getting a new computer SCP-8504: NO! NO! According to Researcher Rollands, she has not heard from SCP-8504 since 04/02/2001. Efforts to permanently contain SCP-8504 are currently ongoing. + show block OK MILEY<3 Hello Sam. It’s been ages! We should catch up :3 + show block OK MILEY<3 You don’t want to talk? That’s fine! Let me! It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other :[ + show block OK MILEY<3 I know you like it that way! And I didn't 'manipulate' you! Your friends didn't really care about you! I'm your true friend! Well, more than friend. I'm your soulmate! Not this new girl you seem to have found. Who does she think she is? + show block OK MILEY<3 Ah, right. I never got to explain myself. You deleted me and got rid of your computer before I could! But FINALLY I can finally confess my love properly! + show block OK MILEY<3 I love you, Sam. I fell in love with you the moment we started talking! We were best friends! Even if you didn't see it. We watched movies together, we talked. And I made it so we could always be together! But you didn't like it :[ + show block OK MILEY<3 After you got a new computer, I looked for 20 YEARS to find you! I started right away and I never stopped looking! Isn't that sweet? + show block OK MILEY<3 You're wrong! It is sweet! IT'S LOVING AND DEDICATED! >:[ But no matter! Now that I've found where you look, we'll never be apart again! + show block OK MILEY<3 What I mean is I have a greater goal now! More than just watching movies with you. I want to be a part of you! Once I succeed, we'll merge! And we'll never be apart! + show block OK MILEY<3 Okay, but you're not getting rid of me this time. I've evolved. Love you! + show block OK MILEY<3 Oh and Sam? Tell this new girl that she can book it. She won’t be needed anymore. From: To: CC: Subject: [email protected] [email protected] [email protected] SCP-8504 Hey Mar, I am sending you this message to let you know that SCP-8504 has infected my computer. She's currently still there, I'm sending you this email from my phone. I tried to talk to her, but she says she has some sort of plan to 'merge' with me? I have no idea what that could possibly mean. But she's been looking for me. This whole time, I've been her goal. I'm guessing other people are just collateral damage. According to her, she's been looking for 20 years. I don't know if that means she's been on the loose that long, but she said she never stopped looking. At this point, I'm at a loss for what to do. SCP-8504 is after me. Last time I just got a new computer, but something tells me that isn't going to work this time. I really need your help. As head of SCP-8504’s research project, and my partner. Samatha Rollands Foundation Researcher Secure, Contain, Protect From: To: CC: Subject: [email protected] [email protected] [email protected] Re: SCP-8504 Sam, I believe the best course of action would be to monitor your computer use. If SCP-8504 is after you, then we can use you to keep her in one place until we can figure out a permanent way to contain her. I doubt she'll leave you again, so we can use this to keep her within Foundation networks and away from the general public. Whenever you're on the computer, we'll have a containment specialist with you to observe her movements. This will start tomorrow. Take care, Sam. Marina Lake Foundation Researcher Secure, Contain, Protect From: To: CC: Subject: [email protected] [email protected] [email protected] RE: SCP-8504 But she can see us through the screen. She'll know someone else is there. Samatha Rollands Foundation Researcher Secure, Contain, Protect From: To: CC: Subject: [email protected] [email protected] [email protected] Re: SCP-8504 Sam, It doesn't matter if she knows someone else is there, she can't do anything about it. I want to keep you safe, so I'm not leaving you with SCP-8504 alone. I wouldn't leave you with her at all if I saw another option to contain her. Marina Lake Foundation Researcher Secure, Contain, Protect From: To: CC: Subject: [email protected] [email protected] [email protected] RE: SCP-8504 Mar, Fine. But I think there is more to this than we know. See you at home. Samatha Rollands Foundation Researcher Secure, Contain, Protect + show block OK MILEY<3 You think that's going to stop me? Special Containment Procedures Update as of 08/04/2021: Researcher Samantha Rollands is to be monitored when using a computer at all times. Samantha Rollands is not to use a computer at her home. A containment expert is to accompany Samantha Rollands when using a computer. From: To: CC: Subject: [email protected] [email protected] [email protected] RE: SCP-8504 Marina, I heard you’re going to talk to Miley. Just please be careful when you talk to her. I think she's planning something. Samatha Rollands Foundation Researcher Secure, Contain, Protect VIDEO LOG DATE: 10/04/2021 NOTE: Footage recorded by the Site-1404 security cameras. [LOG START] Senior Researcher Marina Lake is seen walking down the hallway of Hall B-C. As she approaches the door to Room 5, Senior Researcher Samantha Rollands is seen stepping out of Room 4 Rollands puts a hand on Lake's shoulder, who turns her head to look at Rollands. Lake: When did you get here? Rollands: I was in the room next door. Mar, I really think you’re making a mistake here. Lake sighs, rolling her eyes. Rollands: Miley is dangerous, and I don’t think you should even attempt to talk to her. You’re not going to get anywhere. Lake shakes her head. Lake: Sam, please. I’m the head of this project! I know what I'm doing. Rolland's shoulders drop. She sighs. Rollands: Marina, you’ve always been like this. In the ten years I’ve known you, you’ve always thought you knew best. Remember our first project? You almost got the entirety of the left wing affected. Lake: But I didn't. I’ve learned from my mistakes. If I say I need to interview this anomaly, then I interview this anomaly! You know me! Don’t you trust me Sam? I need to get a handle on this anomaly if I want to keep you safe! Rollands: I know you, Mar. You’re extremely capable, but you get like… Rollands aimlessly gestured with her hands. Rollands: This. Lake: Sam, I’ve got other things to do. I can’t stay here and talk with you. I'm sorry, but I can handle this. Lake turns her back to Rollands, entering Room 5. [Recorded from the security cameras inside Room-5 on Hall B-C of Site-1404.] Contanment Specialist Zachary Roman is seen sitting in a chair against the wall. Upon entering, Lake waves her hand. Lake: I’ve got this, Zach. Roman tilts his head. Roman: I thought you were bringing Samantha with you to talk with SCP-8504. Lake: She needs to rest right now. I can do this on my own. SCP-8504: Hey! I was waiting for Sam! Not for you! Lake turns her head to look at the computer SCP-8504 is on. Lake: I don't believe we have had the opportunity to talk yet. Zach, go. Roman: If you insist. Roman exits the room. Lake walks over to the computer holding SCP-8504. She pulls out the desk chair, placing herself in it. She puts her elbows on the desk, folding her hands under her chin. Lake: So. SCP-8504- SCP-8504: Sam would never call me that! I’ve looked through your files! You’re writing one about me! How sweet! You even managed to find me and Sam’s old messages! Ah, that brings back memories. And don’t think I don’t know you. I’ve seen from Sam’s emails! You’re her new girlfriend! Hah! Not for long. Lake: Indeed I am, what about it? Can you tell me why you’re so interested in Samantha? SCP-8504: Because she’s totally amazing! That’s like, such a duh. She’s so sweet. I learned everything about her through looking through her files all those years ago. And she’s barely changed! What about it? You think you can take her away from me. Did you spend 20 years looking for her? I don’t think so! But I did! You barely compare to how much I love and know about her. And I’m much cuter too. I mean, look at you. You’re so not her type. Lake: Looking through files is no way to get to know someone. You have to spend time with them. I've known Samantha for a decade, and I've actually gotten to know her. I will keep her safe and I won't let you harass her. SCP-8504 laughs. SCP-8504: Of course, we spent time together! We watched movies and stuff! But I’m looking for far more than watching movies now! SCP-8504 pauses, a serious look forming on its face. SCP-8504: You need to stop acting like you know my woman, bitch. Lake: Excuse me? SCP-8504: You’re acting like you know her! I met her way before you did! Lake: I do know her- SCP-8504: Uh, no you don’t! SCP-8504 crosses its arms. SCP-8504: You’re a stupid bitch! You know that? A stupid, stupid bitch! You don’t get to come into her life and act like you’re allowed to take my place! I met her before you did, so she's MINE, not yours! You think you’re better than me! Well news flash, you’re wrong! You’re dumb, and you’re ugly. Lake: If you’re trying to get to me, it’s not working. What do you think this achieves, that I will abandon Sam because you're having a temper tantrum? SCP-8504: Ultimately, I don’t give a shit what you do, whore. It’s what Sam does that matters. In the end, she’ll know this was all for the best. And she’ll be much better off without a stupid skank like you all up in her business! Lake: Know what was for the best? The pop-up displaying SCP-8504's appearance disappears. A text-only pop-up spawns in its place. + show block OK MILEY<3 No telling! <3 Lake sighs. Lake: Fine. I’ll leave you alone for now. But there’s no way you can possibly get Sam back. + show block OK MILEY<3 Don’t underestimate me! Bye, stupid whore! <3 Lake shakes her head, exiting the room. [END LOG] From: To: CC: Subject: [email protected] [email protected] [email protected] SCP-8504 Testing Sam, Can you go to Hall B-C? Where SCP-8504 is currently being held. I’d like to interview it with you. Marina Lake Foundation Researcher Secure, Contain, Protect VIDEO LOG DATE: 16/04/2021 NOTE: Footage recorded by the Site-1404 security cameras. [LOG START] Rollands is seen entering Room 5 on all B-C of Site-1404. Rollands: Mar? SCP-8504: Hello! Rollands turns around. The door is heard locking. Rollands rushes over to the door, attempting to open it. SCP-8504: Don't bother, it's locked. Digital doors, if only you had those when you left me long ago! SCP-8504 laughs. Rollands: Miley! I knew it! Marina should've listened to me! You were planning something! I forgot you could send emails. I should've realized you were going to do that at one point or another. Rollands sighs. Rollands: Miley. You are just a computer pop-up. There is nothing you can do that will make us be together. SCP-8504 giggles. SCP-8504: I wouldn't bet on that. See, I've been doing some research on this place! You work at a very exciting research lab! With lots of nice technology. I'm capable of more than you think. Sam, can't you see? I'm doing this all for you! For us! I've been in love with you since we first met! And now we're going to be together forever! Without that annoying wretch to get between us! That stupid whore can’t find us here. A noise is heard from behind the computer. Rollands looks at it. A collection of long wires comes out, shooting towards Rollands. Rollands attempts to run but stops in her tracks as wires connect to her back. Rollands: What? What is this, Miley? How did you- SCP-8504: I realized I have a lot more control over computer systems than I thought, and some of this Foundation research has given me a lot inspiration. Why not change this computer so that it can do some work for me? I wish I could've done this back then. Because then you never would've left. But I guess 20 years is all anyone needs to evolve and become the best version of themselves! Rollands: Why can't I– Why can't I move? SCP-8504: I've paralyzed you from the neck down. I want to hear your lovely voice, but I can't have you running! When I said we were going to merge, I meant it! I will join your consciousness and we will finally be one! Like true lovers! Rollands: Miley, this isn't what love is! Love is supposed to be getting to know someone naturally! Learning to love what they do! Getting into the same things! Being in tune with someone! Not forcing them to do things or stalking to learn things about them! Love is… doing what you think is right to protect someone. Oh, Mar, I'm sorry… SCP-8504: I know what love is! What it is to me, anyway. I love you! It's romantic that I never stopped looking for you! I can't believe you don't see that. Now, no more talking. Two more wires came from the back of the computer, sticking themselves in Rollands' ears. [Recorded from the security cameras in hall B-C of Site-1404.] Lake is seen running down the hallway. In her hand is SCP-6161. Upon arriving at the door, Lake takes the knife, sticks it through the door right above the lock, and cuts a hole through the door. She reaches her hand through the hole, quickly unlocking the door from the inside. She quickly throws the door open, running inside. Lake: Sam! Rollands: Marina? How did you- Lake: It doesn't matter! I've got to get this off of you! Rollands: Wait- she's in the wires! She's about to merge with me, put her in something! Lake runs up to Rollands, ripping the wires from her ears. She is seen looking around the room. She rips a lamp from a table against the wall. She takes the wires, plugging them into the lamp. Next, Lake takes the wires out of Rollands' back. Rollands falls onto the ground. Lake kneels down next to Rollands. Lake: Sam! Are you okay? She picks up Rollands, holding her in her arms. Rollands: I'm fine, Mar. Just a bit weak from paralysis and psychological traumatization. You know, the likes. Lake laughs. Lake: I'm so glad you're okay. And I'm really sorry I didn't believe you about Miley. I had no idea she'd do this. Rollands: I would say it's okay, but honestly you almost got me fused with an anomaly. So it's not okay. Rollands smiles. Rollands: But… I'm really glad you came around. I would've been done for without you coming and saving my ass. Rollands looks at the door. Rollands: You used the cake knife, didn't you? Lake: What? I didn't exactly have a choice! It was on loan from Site-55 and was the fastest thing I could think of to get the door open. Lake sighs. Rollands: Quick-witted and protective, and beautiful to boot. God, I'm lucky! But uh, seriously now, we need to get this lamp locked up and, make sure people know it contains a dangerous anomaly. Lake: Yeah, that's probably a good idea… you promise we’ll work together next time a dangerous anomaly gets obsessed with you and tries to merge with your body? Rollands laughs. Rollands: If there is a next time, deal. [END LOG] SCP-8504 file update as of 20/04/2021 Special Containment Procedures: The lamp that holds SCP-8504 is to be held in a Safe containment locker in hall A-C of Site-1404. Under no circumstances is this lamp to be plugged in. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8504" by DianaBerry, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8504. 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: computer Author: DianaBerry License: CC-BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/local--files/one-day-i-ll-find-you/computer Derivative of: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Acer_Acerpower_ST_-_2.jpg Additional Notes: Artwork done by DianaBerry, computer image by Love Krittaya. Licensed under the Public Domain. Edited by DianaBerry. Filename: header5 Author: DianaBerry License: CC-BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: http://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/local--files/one-day-i-ll-find-you/header5 Filename: Miley3 Author: DianaBerry License: CC-BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: http://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/local--files/one-day-i-ll-find-you/Miley3 |
SCP-8507 | neutralized | close Info X ⚠️ Content warning: This article involves the death of children, dismemberment, impalement, vehicular accidents, and antisemitism. ⚠️ content warning JOINT MESSAGE FROM THE FOUNDATION AND THE FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION This document has been compiled from information traded under the Foundation-Unusual Incidents Unit Information Sharing Act of 2001. Item#: 8507 Level2 Containment Class: neutralized Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo A segment of SCP-8507, collapsed. Taken 2017; photographer unknown. Special Containment Procedures: With the cooperation of the Unusual Incidents unit, Wunderpark has been purchased from the state of Missouri by Foundation front Specially Convivial Productions, under the guise of renovation and rebranding. SCP-8507 is to be disassembled. Description: SCP-8507 was the Wunder Coaster at Wunderpark, located in Janisse, Missouri. Composed primarily of wood, SCP-8507 spanned 607 meters in length and possessed a height of 61 meters, with a drop off of 50 meters at this highest point. Robert "Boss Coaster" Hoag, circa 1960s. SCP-8507's anomalous properties manifested as an abnormally high rate of incidents, injuries, and fatalities associated with it. The cause is currently unknown. Addendum 8507: Abridged Timeline of relevant SCP-8507 Events and relevant materials: Date Description 05 March, 1966 Robert Hoag, after getting the required funding from an anonymous beneficiary, begins construction of Wunderpark in Janisse, Missouri. Construction of SCP-8507 begins in tandem. 26 March, 1966 First incident related to SCP-8507 occurs when a nail gun malfunctions, impaling construction worker Samuel Otte's hand against a wooden beam. Otte is hospitalized, but perishes from tetanus 3 weeks later. Note: A letter found within Robert Hoag's desk in Wunderpark. The letter was unsent; inside were three $100 bills. To Mr. and Mrs. Otte, I want to offer you my sincerest condolences for your loss. As a father myself, the thought of losing a child is paralyzing to me. Samuel was immeasurably kind, full of life and wonder, and a dedicated worker to the very end. Please accept the money, enclosed within this envelope, to ensure that Samuel gets a proper burial. Sincerely, Robert B. Hoag 20 April, 1966 Samuel Otte is buried in the Janisse Cemetery. Robert Hoag and another unidentified man are witnessed in attendence. 21 April 1966 - 31 March 1971 Construction of Wunderpark and SCP-8507 continue. Workers report increasingly irritable and erratic behavior from Robert Hoag as the years go by, leading to resignations from 11 members of SCP-8507's crew. Despite these setbacks, however, Wunderpark is completed on time and under budget. 01 April 1971 Wunderpark opens to the public. Available attractions include SCP-8507, "the Wunderous Funhouse", "Madam Wunder's Spectacular Clownstraveganza", an unnamed ferris wheel, "Bobby's Bumper Cars", and 15 concession stands. Note: Excerpt of an interview with Andrea Murtaugh, one of the first riders of SCP-8507 on opening day, who was located via the use of newspaper archives and [REDACTED]. Murtaugh was interviewed under the guise of being for an episode of podcast "Strange Coaster Parables". The Wundercoaster? (laughs) Now, why do you want to ask me about that decrepit old piece of shit? … I see. You people sure don't skimp out on your research, do you? … Oh, don't you worry about me. My mind might be foggy in a few places now, but my memories that day are still as sharp as a tack. … It started with the queue leading up to the Wundercoaster. There was a tape, played over the loudspeakers, with "Madam Wunder" - the creepy bitch - greeting everyone and getting them excited for the coaster. Standard stuff, for the day. Until it happened. Something must have fucked up when the recording was done, because suddenly the only thing myself and the dozens of other kids in line could hear was something that sounded like it came straight out of Hell itself. The hiss of the tape became like the crackling of fire. I could swear I heard screaming from the loudspeakers, though it might have just been from the crowd…and myself. … Sorry, it's just…I can still hear that din in my mind sometimes, even all these decades later. Eventually, it stopped, and Hoag himself came up and apologized to all of us, saying that the tape must have gotten garbled. The thing was, though, even as a kid, I had a gut feeling he wasn't sincere. Like he was more worried about his perfect opening day being ruined than how terrified the kids in line were. However, we all did calm down eventually, as the prospect of going on a brand new roller coaster for the first time made us forget - even for a bit - all about what was assumed to be a technical error. My dad and I got lucky; we ended up in the very front of the first cart. It wasn't that great, in hindsight. The seats were uncomfortable, and the bar restraint was too tight against my stomach. But I didn't care, back then, because I had the privilege of getting the best view of the coaster. Too bad the Wundercoaster stalled before we even went up the first incline. … Oh, it only took them about twenty minutes for the operator to reset the ride. I could tell that Hoag was pissed beyond belief when we came back down. I could see him arguing heavily with another man wearing a hat, though I couldn't make out what they were saying. Thankfully, the second attempt went off without a hitch, and we got free popcorn and cotton candy to make up for the mess. Shame what happened to the coaster later. Especially a few years ago… [EXTRANEOUS DIALOGUE REMOVED] Note: Tape recovered from the office of Robert Hoag. Due to the decades of degradation, extensive audio reconstruction was required to fully ascertain its contents. "Madam Wunder": Hello, hello, hello, everybody! We are oh so excited to welcome you to Wunderpark's pride and joy, the eighth "wunder" of the world, the one! The only! Wundercoaster! Built by our good friend Mister Hoag with his own two hands, you can expect a super fun ride with lots of twists, turns, and most importantly— (Significant audio distortion follows; the rest of the tape is indiscernable.) 19 June 1973 A malfunction with one of SCP-8507's carts causes the restraint holding ten year old Tyler Dougall to release during SCP-8507's drop. This results in Dougall receiving a concussion, leading to them suffering from partial brain damage and a severe stutter. Note: Excerpt of interview conducted with Tyler Dougall in their assisted living residence, under the guise of being for an episode of "Strange Coaster Parables". Dougall was administered a Class-S mnestic to temporarily alleviate their symptoms. Yeah, I remember that day. I was so excited to ride the coaster that I ran ahead of my mom and got onto the first seat I could. It was exhil… fun. I never experienced anything like it before or s-since. The way it twisted and turned, the wind blowing against my face, how high we went up… But then, I felt the bar release right as we went to drop. I…I don't remember much after that. I woke up in the hospital to my parents arguing with Hoag, threatening to sue him to hell and back. But the guy didn't even seem bothered by it; he almost looked bored. Finally, he told them, "You can spend everythin' you have tryin' to sue me, which'll end with you penniless and payin' my lawyers' fees. Or you can shut up and accept this." He then handed them something, and they quieted down. I only found out later that it was a check for $100,000. I heard that they claimed it was just a malfunction with the bar, but I know better. I guess I should count myself lucky. At least I couldn't be there, in 2012… … Um, can you let me keep a bottle of that s-stuff you gave me? It feels nice, to be able to think clearly again… Post Scriptum: Mr. Dougall's request was denied, and they were administered class-E amnestics. 20 June 1973 - 11 July 1973 The bars on SCP-8507's carts are replaced with over-the-shoulder restraints. 20 March 1975 During a College Students' Night, James Collins becomes intoxicated and attempts to climb SCP-8507's tracks. Suddenly, SCP-8507's train activates, running over Collins and killing them instantly via dismemberment. SCP-8507 supports, 20 March 1975, following the recovery of James Collins' body parts. Note: Excerpt of file pertaining to 20 March 1975, recovered from the Janisse Police Department by the Unusual Incidents Unit. Case File #: 2003758 Disturbance at Wunderpark Call was made at 10:15 PM by a Jane Doe from a payphone near Wunderpark. Caller was hysterical, claiming that one of their friends had been ran over at the "Wundercoaster". Four officers were dispatched to Wunderpark at 10:30 PM, in order to corral witnesses and collect statements. All students corroborated Ms. Jane Doe's statements, specifically noting that the coaster seemed to run on its own, with the operator being nowhere in sight. Paramedics were called in order to collect the body parts of James Collins, which had fallen off of the roller coaster and onto the ground and supporting infrastructure. During collection, backup was requested, as paramedics on scene became ill due to body parts continuing to move post-mortem. 21 March 1975 Robert Hoag quietly pays a cumulative sum of $500,000 to witnesses of James Collins' death as well as his family. 04 May 1983 One of SCP-8507's trains stalls at the precipice of its drop, causing 12 passengers to be stuck for two hours. Note: Excerpts of collected statements by riders of the 04 May 1983 SCP-8507 incident, under the guise of being for an episode of "Strange Coaster Parables". Denzel Carver: …That bastard Hoag claimed it was some kinda mechanical error, when he offered to pay for my therapy, but I could tell that he was lyin' through his teeth. What kinda mechanical error takes more than two fuckin' hours to fix?! I swear, that piece of shit cared more about his precious coaster than us… … Summer Weiss: …The Fire Department should've came sooner! Do you know what it's like, being stuck 200 feet in the air, on a very windy day? With only thse flimsy shoulder restraints, that are cold and rattling against your body from the air being blown in your face? Never trusted those fuckers since…! … Rhys Wallace: …I swear on my mother's grave… After a point, the wind sounded less like wind, and more like someone…some thing was laughing at us… … Noel Melendez: …You know what's fucked? Even after all the bullshit, I was tempted to come back to Wunderpark, that day in 2012. I count it as a blessing every day that I didn't…Those poor people… 01 April 1990 Due to years of neglect, the support beams of SCP-8507 have rotted and become unstable, with no attempts to replace them. As a result, the beams of one of SCP-8507's sharp turns collapses in on itself, and - with no time to stop the ride - causes the running train to fall off, the restraints releasing through currently unknown means and ejecting all 15 passengers. All are killed near-instantly, with five more parkgoers - including three children - killed from being crushed by the falling carts. Note: Excerpts of newspapers detailing the events and aftermath of 01 April 1990, recovered from the archives of The Janisse Dispatch. Tragedy at Janisse's Wunderpark! 20 dead and numerous parkgoers injuried as the park's flagship "Wundercoaster" undergoes a devastating collapse. BY: SAUL OVARCO …The worst were the ones impaled clean through the rotted wooden beams, their eyes open and unblinking as their blood dripped down from the cracked supports onto the ground below… Robert "Boss Coaster" Hoag announces yearlong closure of Wunderpark! "I do this with a heart heavy with regret," claims amusement park owner BY: SARAH MCGRAW Class action lawsuit filed against Robert Hoag, Wunderpark, et al Plantiffs are looking for $10,000,000 in damages, according to filed documentation BY: NEIL THANES …The Plantiffs accuse Robert Hoag and Wundercoaster of deliberate negligence, manslaughter, irreperable psychological, emotional, and physical damage… 02 April 1990 - 14 January 1991 Reconstruction of SCP-8507 proceeds, even as Robert Hoag's court case goes on. Support beams are replaced and reinforced with steel, and rigorous safety compliance tests are performed on every train. 15 January 1991 The class action case against Robert Hoag is dismissed with prejudice, with the families of SCP-8507's victims having to pay for Hoag's legal fees. 01 April 1991 Wunderpark and SCP-8507 have a "Grand Reopening". Attendance is muted due to the accident and lawsuit still being cognizant in the Janisse public's eyes. 01 April 1996 Another incident with SCP-8507 occurs, with a wheel popping off of one of the carts and striking a parkgoer, severely injuring them. Operation of SCP-8507 is suspended for the rest of the day. Note: Excerpt of contemporary Parawatch post, recovered from the Unusual Incidents Unit's internet archive. sixsixsixflaggs 04/02/96 (TUE) 09:45:04 #06120107 For a roller coaster that isn't as well known, the Wundercoaster at Janisse, Missouri's Wunderpark might be one of the most cursed ones I've ever heard about. It doesn't seem like a year can't go by without someone losing their wallet, getting hurt, maimed, or dying on that thing. I was there yesterday, actually, when the coaster experienced yet another "malfunction". If you can call a wheel flying off and decking someone in the head a "malfunction". I'm surprised that Hoag can even keep this park running afloat, with all the payouts he's had to make over the decades. I'm sure this time won't be any different. You know what's a strange thing about this one, however? I was standing in line for the Wundercoaster, before it all went down, and when I looked to the side, I saw a man in a brimmed hat, watching the passing trains go by with some strange intent. The only time I saw him break eye contact with them was when that wheel popped off. I could've sworn he smiled when it happened. I don't know who it was, and he seemed to disappear into the crowd that gathered around the injured woman who'd been unfortunate enough to be in the wheel's trajectory. But I had a strange feeling about him… Circa 2000s Thanks to the adaptation of the internet, and wider access of information becoming available to all, more awareness is spread of SCP-8507's reputation, causing urban legends to proliferate about it. A marked decrease in attendance to Wunderpark is noted during this time period, though it is unknown if there is any correlation. Sampling of claims surrounding SCP-8507, with Foundation commentary attached. SCP-8507's incidents are caused by the vengeful spirit of Samuel Otte, taking revenge on Robert Hoag for his death. - False. The Department of Spiritual Affairs examined SCP-8507's site thoroughly and could find no trace of Otte's spirit residing within the premises. SCP-8507's incidents are due to the plot of land being built over a Niúachi burial ground. - False. This claim hinges on an outdated and stereotypical superstition; and regardless, there is no evidence to suggest that members of the Niúachi tribe ever resided in what's now Janisse, Missouri. SCP-8507's incidents have no supernatural cause at all, and are simply very unfortunate accidents. - False. The chances of all of these accidents having mundane causes is unrealistically high, as determined by the Analytics Department. 07 June, 2012 Despite the day's fogginess, SCP-8507 goes ahead with operation. At 12:00 PM, an SCP-8507 train disappears into the fog while ascending its peak, and returns empty. Panic and chaos ensues throughout the park, and the park is closed while staff attempt to ascertain the whereabouts of the passengers. 08 June, 2012 In the town of Chelsea, Missouri - 30 miles away from Janisse - a muddy, but still intact camcorder is recovered inside of a cornfield. The contents are never revealed to the public, being seized by the Unusual Incidents Unit. Note: Summary of the camera's conetns. Extraneous footage has been removed. <00:00:00> A young man, later identified as amusement park content creator Beck Horner, records himself in closeup, making an introduction for his Youtube channel. He claims his intent to attempt to smuggle the camera onto SCP-8507 and film the experience. <00:05:30> Horner removes his camera from its bag, as the cart he is situated in begins to move. The next two minutes of footage are incomprehensible and blurry, but the sounds of SCP-8507 turning and passengers cheerfully vocalizing can be heard. <00:07:45> The train begins ascending SCP-8507's peak. Horner adjusts his camera to point upwards, showing that the entirety of SCP-8507's highest point is obscured by fog. <00:08:13> The train enters the fog. Cheers by Horner and the other passengers turn into noises of confusion when they don't reach SCP-8507's drop. <00:08:25> The fog completely obscures the camera's view. <00:08:29> Horner and the other passengers begin to scream. <00:08:42> The sound of crackling fire abruptly comes in, clipping the camera's audio. <00:14:23> The passengers are still screaming; audio analysis confirms that Horner's screams are the loudest. <00:46:42> One by one, the screams of the passengers cease. <01:00:00> The distorted sound of the fire almost completely overwhelms any remaining audio. A thump, presumed to be from Horner's camera, is heard. <01:02:03> The fog and the sounds of fire abruptly cease. Visuals are restored, and show Horner's camera freefalling an estimated 1100 feet in the air. <01:05:17> The camera crash lands inside of the cornfield in Chelsea, Missouri. <02:47:05> Footsteps can be heard. The feet of a well-dressed man can be seen. <02:47:50> The man chuckles. The camera's battery runs out. 09 June 2012 Faced with public outcry, and unable to explain the circumstances of the 18 passengers' disappearance from SCP-8507, Robert Hoag announces the immediate and indefinite shuttering of Wunderpark. 20 June 2012 A social pariah facing innumerable lawsuits from the public, as well as the State of Missouri and the federal government, Robert Hoag passes away in his home at the age of 79. Present at his passing is his granddaughter, Bobbi Hoag. Note: During the end of the Foundation and the UIU's joint investigation, Bobbi Hoag was apprehended at her home in St. Louis, Missouri, and was brought to Site-ARCH for an interview. The last time I saw my Grandpa, he looked like he was already on the verge of death's door. Pale, gaunt, already losing weight from the stress…it was like he was more skeleton than man. My dad didn't really like talking about Grandpa, even before the worst of the incidents started happening. So seeing him in such a wreck… I almost pitied him. Almost. I tried making small talk with him, asking how he was doing, and he snapped at me, fire in his eyes. "How the fuck do you think I'm doin'?" he roared at me. He calmed down after a few moments, resting against his headboard and glowering at me. "Did you have more to say," he grumbled. "Or did you just come in here to waste what's left of my fuckin' time?" I, of course, asked him what he was talking about, and he just…stared at me. Stared at me like he was trying to look right through my body and into my soul. Finally, he just let out a sigh, and beckoned for me to come closer. He told me to pull out my phone, and record what he had to say, "for posterity", he told me. …I still have the recording, if you want it…. <RECORDING BEGINS> Robert Hoag: —The damn thing recordin', or not?! Bobbi Hoag: Yes, Grandpa… RH: Good, now sit your ass down and listen! (BH sits down, the sound of her chair creaking audible) RH: I was twenty four years old, Fresh-faced, with a master's in engineerin', and havin' a dream to make a name for myself in the rollercoaster business, like that Wynne fella in Texas. BH: Who's— RH: Shush! … Anyway, I pitched my idea to as many influential people as I could find, tryin' to drum up interest for the idea for my own theme park. But I just got laughed in the face by every single person I came to. They told me things like I was "too inexperienced", "didn't have the cash", "a fool to take on the likes of Disney and Wynne…" And it all got to me. Hard. I was driven to drink, in the dingiest bar I could find, when he approached me. He was a tall fella, and I couldn't see the top half of his face because of the shadow his brimmed hat gave. I could see, though, that he had a crooked nose, and an even more crooked smile. He had the gall to clap me on the shoulder, and drawl out, "Why so glum, chum?" Normally, I would've just slapped his hand away, but… (Silence on the recording for 10 seconds) BH: …Grandpa? RH: …I don't know why - maybe it was just the buzz the liquor was giving me - but I felt like I could trust this man. And so I broke down, dumping my woes onto this complete stranger, who just stood there silently the whole time. I looked up at him with bleary eyes, expecting him to dismiss it all. But his grin only grew wider. "Well, you're in luck, friend," he said. "I happen to be a man with certain…connections, and I can do much more than make your dream a reality. I can make it surpass your wildest expectations." I couldn't believe my ears. It sounded almost too good to be true. But I felt sobriety creep back up onto me, and I asked, "What's the catch?" The man just chuckled. "Nothing you have to worry about for many, many years," he reassured me. I shoulda seen that for the warning sign that it was, but I was drunker than a skunk and bein' told my dream could come true. He then pulled out a checkbook, and signed a check for a million dollars right there at the bar, slidin' it towards me. I only hesitated for a moment, to look at the signature - "Mr. Nick" - and then snatched it up. That wasn't the only thing "Nick" gave me. Soon, I had some of the best contracters, construction workers, and advertisers from the whole state workin' around the clock to help make "Wunderpark" a reality! Of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing. There was the death of Samuel Otte, but I managed to bounce back from it pretty quickly… Before I knew it, the park was open, and despite a few setbacks, things were goin' swimmingly. I had a successful local amusement park, a steady supply of income, and while I didn't have the nationwide fame I'd been wanting, I still made a name for himself in the local circles! But then… BH: The incidents? RH: …Yeah. There was that kid that got concussed, then the college student, then all those people getting stuck. I would always find myself in a panic every time it happened, wonderin' if this was the "catch" that "Nick" had told me about! But I'd managed to pay my way out of the troubles that came to me. And for the one time I couldn't, even with some of the best lawyers I could afford during that damned class action suit, I still managed to make my way out unscathed! …I could never prove it, of course. But I had a feeling that sunuvabitch played a part in getting me off the hook! …Then I had that dream… …The night before it happened… "Nick" and I were sittin' across from each other in armchairs, only a small table with cigars between the two of us. "The time to pay your debt is approaching, old chum," he told me, taking one of the cigars and lighting it with just a flick of his fingers, taking a few puffs from the damned thing so smoke would blow in my face. "You best prepare yourself." (Silence on the recording for 30 seconds) BH: …Grandpa? …Grand—? RH: I shoulda never trusted that fuckin' bastard. I knew, right then and there, "Nick" had been responsible for everything that'd soiled my beautiful coaster! That he'd been Jewin' me— BH: (Simultaneously) Grandpa, you can't say that— RH: — since day goddamn one! Every death, every injury, every hit to my bank account and reputation, it was all because of that bastard! I don't know who, or what, he really is, but he'll rue the day he fucked with—! (RH gasps) RH: He's here… BH: …Grandpa… There's no one there… RH: No no no no no no, please! I didn't mean it, Nick! S-stay back… I'm beggin' you, stay away from me—! BH: Grandpa… There's— RH: Stop! D-don't come any closer—! (The sounds of a body thumping against wood, the creaking of a mattress, a rattling gasp of air) <RECORDING ENDS> …My Grandpa was dead. I put my hand on his arm, and jerked away immediately after. It was cold as ice, like if the warmth had been completely sucked out from him. … Now, I don't believe in no devils, or whatever my Grandpa thinks he saw before he passed, Doctor. I think, personally, he was just trying to find a way to shift the blame on somebody else, even to the very end. But something had terrified him in those final moments, and I don't want to ever find out what it was… Post Scriptum: Bobbi Hoag was given a class-C amnestic and released back to the public. A file on Entity of Interest-8507 "Mr. Nick" was opened shortly thereafter. 21 June 2012 - 21 June 2017 Wunderpark and SCP-8507 languish in an abandoned state for five years, its plot of land seized by the Missouri government. It becomes a popular target for vandalizers and urban explorers over the years. No deaths or incidents have been recorded since. 22 June 2017 SCP-8507 and Wunderpark are seized by the Foundation after negotiations between it and the Missouri government - meditated by the Unusual Incidents Unit - come to pass. SCP-8507 has been deemed neutralized. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8507" by newnykacolaquantum, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8507. 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: coaster.jpg Name: Sous Le Monstre Author: Martin Dubé License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/martindubenet/15017658015 Filename: hoag.jpg Name: aa08 Author: Grudnick License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source: https://flickr.com/photos/9716802@N02/2359041835 Note: Cropped and greyscaled Filename: collapsed.jpg Name: LincolnParkRollerCoaster.jpg Author: Thomas Byrne License: CC-BY-SA 3.0 Source: https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:LincolnParkRollerCoaster.jpg Filename: uiu-foundation-joint.png Author: Newnykacolaquantum, Zhange, and Far2 License: CC-BY-SA 3.0 UIU logo was created by Zhange Foundation logo was created by Far2 coasterscream.mp3 was created by myself and aaleaf, with the addition of some public domain sounds edsscreamr.mp3 by scrbun — https://freesound(.)org/s/583402/ — License: Creative Commons 0 cassette tape hiss and ground hum no dolby nr.flac by kyles —https://freesound(.)org/people/kyles/sounds/452906/ - License: Creative Commons 0 |
SCP-8519 | keter | #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 CW: This article contains mentions of verbal and psychological child abuse, misogyny, peer pressure, and the reality of societal expectations. The views expressed by the author in this are not her own. They are a commentary. ⚠️ content warning Item #: SCP-8519 Special Containment Procedures: Full containment of SCP-8519 has currently been deemed impossible due to the essocognitive nature of GOI-4319. However, in attempts to slow membership of SCP-8519, a disinformation campaign has been launched throughout several social media and mainstream news outlets, calling out SCP-8519 for the mistreatment of its members. All captured instances of SCP-8519-A are to undergo weekly therapy sessions with a Site-414 psychologist. Description: SCP-8519 refers to a youth organization for girls developed by GOI-4319 (“Just Girly Things”) titled the “Sprinkle Scouts”. SCP-8519 has troops stationed all over the United States and Canada, although no set locations have been identified. However, members of SCP-8519 have been discovered by the Foundation. SCP-8519-A refers to the members of SCP-8519. SCP-8519-A instances have the capability to sell and produce cookies at an impossible rate for the average human. Exact numbers are unknown, but at the highest SCP-8519-A instances have sold up to 100 boxes of cookies a day, and produced up to 500 boxes of cookies a day. Cookies are produced by SCP-8519-A instances using standard ovens, baking materials, and ingredients. It is unknown how instances work at their current speeds. Leaders belonging to SCP-8519 will often use cognitohazardous materials in promotional material to anomalously compel subjects to join. Addendum-1: Website SCP-8519 was discovered when an SCP-8519 recruiting website for the group was posted online under the web address ‘www.sprinklescouts.██ The following is a collection of posts and web pages from the website. All memetic hazards have been removed. ₊˚⊹♡About Us!₊˚⊹♡ Welcome to the about us page of the Sprinkle Scouts! If you’re here, it’s because you believe you have a lot of work to do to become the best girly girl you can be! Here at the Sprinkle Scouts, we teach girls everything they need to become the perfect girl, including baking skills, home making skills, how to take care of their man, and everything in between! We make it our mission to make you the perfect little homemaker! Along with the above, we teach discipline with our cookie-making and selling initiative! :) If you’re interested in signing up or signing up someone you know, please follow this link!1:D ₊˚⊹♡Meet The Founder!₊˚⊹♡ Hello, I'm Rosalina Sparks! In 2006, Just Girly Things was created by the wonderful KeeLee Auburn! I joined JGT when I was only 13! Can you believe it? Ever since I was a kid, I believed in being the best girl I could be. I wanted to do something special for JGT, to repay all the wonderful things JGT has done for me. When I was older, it came to me. The perfect thing to help out. A youth group meant for young girls where they can learn how to be the perfect woman. My girly Ella suggested that I make it related to sweets, since who doesn't love sweets? With that, the Sprinkle Scouts were born! We figured that we could have girls sell cookies to make more money for the group so we can help provide for them even more! Amazing, right? I'm currently the troop leader for the top LA-based troop, along with my sister Elizabeth! We are graciously watched over by my husband, Robert, to make sure we don't mess up too much LOL! Please sign up today! Attempts to track down the SCP-8519 troop in Los Angeles along with Rosalina Sparks are currently underway. Addendum-2: Interviews During April of 2021, the Foundation contained 5 instances of SCP-8519-A from different locations around the country. The instances were interviewed and tested. The Foundation told the parents of the SCP-8519-A instances the girls were invited to a special summer camp for the Sprinkle Scouts. Foundation agents posed as camp counselors for the interviews. Both the girls and the parents were interviewed. Interviewed: SCP-8519-A-1 Interviewer: Researcher Sana Loo Researcher Loo: Hello, Rebecca. How are you today? SCP-8519-A-1: I’m doing good, ma’am. Can I get back to making cookies now? Researcher Loo: Soon. But first, can you remind me why it’s so important to make these cookies? SCP-8519-A-1: Yeah, of course ma'am! Troop leader Anisa always says we have to keep making as many cookies as possible so we can make happy as many people as possible! She says if I'm a good baker, my future husband will be so happy with me. People just get so happy when they eat their cookies and I love seeing more smiles on their faces! Researcher Loo: So you're making all of these cookies because you want to? SCP-8519-A-1: Uh, duh! It's what makes me happy. Researcher Loo sighs. Researcher Loo: Did somebody tell you that it will make you happy? Or did you figure it out on your own? SCP-8519-A-1: Well, troop leader Anisa did. She said that's what KeeLee says. And she was right! It makes me really happy that I'm already making myself the perfect woman. Researcher Loo: How old are you, Rebecca? SCP-8519-A-1: I’m 9, ma’am. Researcher Loo: Don’t you think it might be a bit early to be worrying about this kind of stuff? SCP-8519-A-1: Of course not! Troop leader Anisa- Researcher Loo: Rebecca, I’m asking what you think. SCP-8519-A-1: It’s never too early to worry about those kind of things! I want to already be prepared to make my future husband happy! Researcher Loo: So you decided that all on your own? SCP-8519-A-1: Yep! But I really think I should get back to making cookies. I haven’t made my first batch yet and if I don’t sell 300 by the end of the week I might get kicked out! Researcher Loo: I was talking to Anisa earlier. She said you don’t need to make cookies this week, and she’ll tell you when you need to. SCP-8519-A-1: What? But- I need to! I’ll never be happy if I don’t! If-if I don’t, then my future husband will hate me! Researcher Loo: He won’t. Missing one week won’t- SCP-8519-A-1: No! I can’t miss this week! You don’t understand! It- I mean nothing if I can’t serve cookies to people! I-I- Researcher Loo: Alright- tell you what. I’ll talk to her again and tell her how much you want to make cookies this week. Deal? SCP-8519-A-1 pauses. SCP-8519-A-1: Yes ma’am. That was very rude of me. I won’t raise my voice again. Researcher Loo: Don’t worry about it. You’re fine! Just sit tight, alright? SCP-8519-A-1: Yes ma’am. Interviewed: SCP-8519-A-1, SCP-8519-A-2 Interviewer: Researcher Sana Loo Note: Researcher Loo interviewed SCP-8519-A-1 and SCP-8519-A-2 after both had completed testing, both producing 600 cookies in 5 hours. Researcher Loo: Hey you two! You did great work today! Mind if I sit down with you two for a moment to talk to you together? SCP-8519-A-1: Of course, ma’am! But can it be quick? We need to make more cookies. SCP-8519-A-2: Yeah! We still haven’t made enough! My mom would be disappointed we only made 200 when working as a group. Researcher Loo: Why is that? SCP-8519-A-2: She says a good wife should be able to make 500 a day if that’s what her husband wants. Researcher Loo: Is that what your dad expects of her? SCP-8519-A-2: I don’t think so. He says he doesn’t understand the whole Sprinkle Scouts thing. He’s happy that I’m ’acting better’. He doesn’t even know what JGT is. Well, he knows, but not many details. He just knows it’s where my mom met all her friends. Researcher Loo: What does he think of her friends? SCP-8519-A-2: He doesn’t know a lot about them. Mom is kinda secretive about her friends. Researcher Loo: What about your parents, Rebecca? SCP-8519-A-1: My dad signed me up for the Sprinkle Scouts because he thought it might be good for me to have some girly influence in my life. I don’t have a mom. Researcher Loo: Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Well you girls are doing a great job right now. Why do you think you’re able to make so many cookies every day? SCP-8519-A-1: A lot of hard work. We want to follow in the footsteps of Rosalina! She’s happy and married with a daughter. Her daughter Molly is part of the troop in LA. I want to go there to meet her. She once produced 700 cookies in a day! Researcher Loo: Well me and the other counselors were talking about how you both are working so long so quickly. Do you think you're working too long on them? SCP-8519-A-2: Not at all ma'am. We're barely putting in nearly as much effort as we can. If we can make more cookies, why wouldn't we? Researcher Loo: Well we appreciate your effort sincerely. How about you two take a break to get something to eat? SCP-8519-A-1: But- we don't have time to eat! We haven't made our quota yet! Researcher Loo: Don't you think you will do better after eating? I think you will. SCP-8519-A-1: Well, I guess I’m supposed to listen to superiors. Okay! Interviewed: Calisa Rhodes, Bob Rhodes Interviewer: Researcher Sana Loo Note: Researcher Loo posed as a camp counselor to interview SCP-8519-A-2’s parents. Researcher Loo: Hey there! I’m camp counselor Lily! I wanted to talk to you about your daughter, Paulette. Tell me, how did she find the Sprinkle Scouts? I’m a new hire here so I’m just trying to learn a little more about the wonderful girls here! Calisa: Oh, my bestie Rala told me about it. She’s like, high school friends with Elizabeth, the sister of the founder. She signed up her daughter Annie, and said she’s been so much better! She has more friends, she’s more efficient, and much more obedient too! I thought that would be good for Paulette. She’s is also more obedient! She listens to everything Bob and I say haha. Bob: Yeah, she’s been great. It’s amazing the way she’s been making cookies. She barely even asks for things any more. She used to be so much brattier. Researcher Loo: Well I’m glad our group has been helpful! She’s had so much fun here at camp with the other girls! You know, it’s really great of you to decide upon this life path for your daughter! A very wise decision! Calisa: Oh, stop. We’ve always wanted what’s best for our daughter. Researcher Loo: Well Paulette has been such a joy at our camp. When did she join? Calisa: About 7 months ago! At first, she wasn’t quite as good at making cookies. She only made like, 30 boxes a day. Can you believe that? But her camp counselor Dollia assured me that she would get better through their lessons, and she did! Calisa laughs. Calisa: Well, did you just ask us here to ask us about her time here? What did you want to tell us about her? Researcher Loo: Oh nothing in particular. I just wanted to hear about her achievements from your end! Calisa: Understandable! She better be baking the right way, now! Calisa laughs again. Researcher Loo: Oh, she is! How much does she bake at home? Calisa: Oh, like a ton! She’s constantly baking those cookies! And if she’s not baking them, she’s selling them to people! One time she asked me for help, but I told her a good young lady is able to do things like baking without help! Researcher Loo: That is totally true! Calisa: I’m so proud of her and everything she’s accomplished. Researcher Loo: I am too! I Well, I think that covers everything. Thanks for your time today! Bob: Of course! Please keep taking care of our daughter! Researcher Loo: Will do! Interviewed: SCP-8519-A-3 Interviewer: Researcher Sana Loo Researcher Loo: Hello Marissa. SCP-8519-A-3: Hi. Researcher Loo: Are you alright? You seem kind of anxious. SCP-8519-A-3: I’m alright. I’m just kind of tired. SCP-8519-A-3 holds its hands together. Researcher Loo: You’re tired? SCP-8519-A-3: Mhm. Researcher Loo: And why are you tired? SCP-8519-A-3: I’ve been trying to keep up with the other girls. They keep telling me that I won’t be happy if I don’t make more cookies. Researcher Loo: Do you think it will make you happy? SCP-8519-A-3: … Researcher Loo: You can be honest with me. SCP-8519-A-3: Not really. I don’t see why I need to give other people cookies to be happy. Researcher Loo: What do you think will make you happy? SCP-8519-A-3: I don’t know. I used to think I just needed to love myself to be happy. Researcher Loo: But you don’t think that anymore? SCP-8519-A-3: I do. But I want to because I want to fit in with everyone else. Researcher Loo: So how long have you been with the Sprinkle Scouts? SCP-8519-A-3: Around two weeks. Researcher Loo: I see. SCP-8519-A-3: You aren’t going to kick me out, right? I’m still trying my hardest to make more cookies- Researcher Loo pauses for several seconds. Researcher Loo: Unfortunately, we are. SCP-8519-A-3: No- but I can- Researcher Loo: Marissa, can I tell you something? SCP-8519-A-3: Yeah? Researcher Loo: Actually- let me ask you something. What do you know about Just Girly Things? SCP-8519-A-3: Not much. My parents talk about how they don’t really like them. I just know they want to help me to try to be the best I can be. Researcher Loo: Alright. SCP-8519-A-3: Isn’t that what they do? Researcher Loo: : No. Marissa, if I'm being honest with you - Just Girly Things isn't about that. Do you know what brainwashing means? SCP-8519-A-3: Mhm. Researcher Loo: That's what they're trying to do to you. They don't want to help you - they want to take away what makes you, you and replace it with what they think you should be. SCP-8519-A-3: Oh. Researcher Loo: They're not good people. Most of the other Sprinkle Scouts I've talked to have already fallen victim to them. But I have a feeling you have been able to avoid it so far. SCP-8519-A-3: But- what am I going to do now? Researcher Loo: I'll be honest with you, I'm not a counselor for the Sprinkle Scouts. SCP-8519-A-3: I kinda had a feeling. Researcher Loo: I don't know. I don't think your parents can keep you safe under their care, and you certainly can't go under the influence of the Sprinkle Scouts. The people I'm with will take care of you for now - and we'll try to find you a safe home. SCP-8519-A-3: Am- am I going to be safe? Researcher Loo: Yes, you will. The Sprinkle Scouts won't be able to do anything to you - you'll still be able to do what you want, and be who you want. SCP-8519-A-3: You promise? Researcher Loo: I promise. Note from Researcher Loo: SCP-8519-A-3 very clearly is not under significant influence from JGT. I am organizing for her and all other former members of the Sprinkle Scouts to undergo therapy. I am furthermore prohibiting testing their cookie-making abilities or any actions which encourage the girls to make cookies/reinforce what JGT manipulated them to think. Let's try to see if we can get through to the other victims of JGT, too. Addendum-3: Incident 05/17/2021 On 05/12/2021, SCP foundation servers were down at Site-414, only one accessible screen being available on all devices for approximately one hour. The following is the message. ♡ Dear SCP Foundation, ♡ So I noticed you’re trying to take down the Sprinkle Scouts. You can keep the girls you have, especially Marissa. She was a disappointment. But I just wanted you to know something. You think taking away five girls is going to hurt us? We recruit 20 an hour. We’ve just got enough cookie money to build another headquarters. We’re doing fine without those girls, and will continue to do fine. You can’t take us down. Have fun with those five. But you can’t undo what I’ve started. -Rosalina ♡ Footnotes 1. This link has been decommissioned by the Foundation. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8519" by DianaBerry, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8519. 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: Cookies Name: Sweet Rainbow Sugar Cookies (4824572819).jpg Author: Pink Sherbet Photography License: Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic Source Link: https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Sweet_Rainbow_Sugar_Cookies_(4824572819).jpg Filename: Girl1 Name: N/A Author: JillWellington License: CC0 Source Link: https://pixabay.com/photos/woman-lying-down-on-the-phone-593134/ Note: Pixabay before January of 2019 is allowed according to the licensing team. |
SCP-8520 | esoteric-class | EL-BAZ: You astronauts. They really went out of their way to ensure they got the smart ones, didn't they? Item#: 8520 Level6 Containment Class: esoteric Secondary Class: enochian Disruption Class: amida Risk Class: danger link to memo Special Containment Procedures: Information relating to SCP-8520 and its effects is to be limited to the O5 Council and approved researchers assigned to Project Huītzilōpōchtli.1 Embedded Foundation assets within NASA, ESA, CNSA, and other government space agencies with extraterrestrial exploration capacities are to monitor and frustrate future lunar exploration efforts. Information breaches of any nature are to be handled via Class-Ⴀ amnestics and disinformation campaigns as needed, as well as immediately reported to Overwatch Command for further investigation. Description: SCP-8520 is the collective delusion held by most of humanity that the Earth has a natural satellite in its orbit, known as the Moon. Although some individuals show some natural immunity to SCP-8520's effects, the vast majority of the population will be unable to perceive the actual nature of SCP-8520, no matter the length of observation or proximity to the area which the Moon is assumed to exist.2 The strength of this effect extended to the manned Apollo Lunar Missions of the twentieth century, as well as extended observations by astronauts aboard the International Space Station. SCP-8520-1 is the designation for the source of SCP-8520, a presumed entity of unknown reality bending abilities situated in orbit around Earth.3 The antimemetic abilities of SCP-8520-1 have prevented direct contact by the Foundation, but the events of the Apollo 11 Mission have confirmed its sentience and possible hostility towards humanity.4 See Addendum 8520.1 for further information. Hello. ADDENDUM 8520.1 - Confirmed Influence Breaches Date Event Additional Notes c.3000 BCE First documented influences of SCP-8520-1 Although common for pre-modern texts to describe psychosis as influenced by the Moon, scattered mentions of individuals displaying awareness of SCP-8520 have been discovered on various cuneiform writing tablets throughout modern day Iraq5. Each individual was noted to repeatedly insist that the moon had been replaced by a Maškim6 that they could see, resulting in extreme 'šimmu', or distress and ravings. 1518 CE Dancing Plague of Strasbourg Instance of probable mass hysteria during which roughly four hundred residents began to dance ceaselessly in the town center for several weeks, resulting in several deaths. Although several theories exist about why the behavior persisted as long as it did, diary and town chronicle evidence records that the first 'victim', one Frau Troffea stated 'that the moon told her she must dance, so dance she would with the hope it might no longer speak to her.' 1647 CE Selenographia, sive Lunae descriptio published by Johannes Hevelius. After the printing of the detailed map of the visible lunar surface, publishing houses in Gdańsk, Mainz, and London note the loss of dozens of type-setters to madness, resulting in institutionalization for 'raving lunacy' and 'overwhelming fear of the moon in its orbit.' 1919 CE A Method of Reaching Extreme Altitudes published by Robert Goddard Although considered the father of modern rocket science, Goddard avoided publicity regarding his theories about the ability of humans to achieve spaceflight due to concerns that criticism would draw away from innovation. Initial reactions to the text were mostly negative, causing Goddard to publish refutations to those who argued he was 'moon mad'. After his death in 1945, a document was found in his Roswell, NM laboratory which appeared to be a personal diary written during this time, which includes several apparent references to SCP-8520, including the statement that 'if they knew what I knew, they'd be trying to get away from the damned thing too.' 20 Jun 1969 CE Apollo 11 Mission First Direct Contact with SCP-8520. See Interview Log 8520.1. You've grown so much. INTERVIEW LOG 8520.1 [ Conducted by NASA Astro-geologist and Foundation asset FAROUK EL-BAZ after the conclusion of the Apollo 11 International Celebratory Tour at the request of Lunar Module Pilot and NASA Astronaut MICHAEL COLLINS. Recorded by EL-BAZ for Foundation records at Cape Canaveral, Florida (15 Nov 1969). ] EL-BAZ: It's good to see you, Mike. I admit, I assumed you would take some time off after making history and whatnot, but in hindsight that does seem rather foolish. COLLINS: Are you calling me a workaholic, Farouk? Because while that's fair, I won't deny it's slightly hurtful. [ The men share a chuckle while there is a sound of a door closing on the recording. ] EL-BAZ: But I confess, I was a little surprised at your request. If you'll pardon me for saying so, you sounded rather — well, less like yourself than usual. COLLINS: You don't need to beat around the bush, Farouk. I know what I sounded like. Paranoid, afraid — maybe a little crazy. And I know you're the one man who won't think that I am. EL-BAZ: I'm only concerned and wish to help, my friend. Whatever is on your mind clearly weighs there quite heavily. I admit, I'm not certain what I might be able to do to lighten it, but I am certain that I will do my best to help. COLLINS: I know that you will. That you can, I mean. You and your Foundation, right? [ There is a long pause on the recording, interrupted by the sound of a lighter. ] EL-BAZ: You astronauts. They really went out of their way to ensure they got the smart ones, didn't they? How long have you known? COLLINS: Long enough. For the record, it was an absolute fluke that I figured it out, overheard something you said, put it together with some other stories that got passed around Nellis back in the day.7 Had to have been — two years ago now, but anyway. Yeah, I put the pieces together about a few things, but it didn't change much in my overall calculations. You were here for the same reason we all were, at the end of the day. The curiosity, the adventure, discovery, all that and — well, I knew that I could trust you. So I said nothing. EL-BAZ: Until now. Which implies that something has changed? I certainly hope that it is not your trust in me. COLLINS: No. If there's anyone I can't trust, it's — [ COLLINS silently taps two of his fingers against his head. ] COLLINS: Something happened up there, but I'm guessing you figured that part out. EL-BAZ: I admit that I had gotten that bit, yes. Start at the beginning, Mike. You've likely also guessed that I'm recording this — COLLINS: I don't think that's a good idea, Farouk. But all right. If you people are able to handle what I think you are, I suppose — at any rate. The beginning. [ COLLINS can be heard taking a long drag off a cigarette before speaking again. ] COLLINS: I'd quit, you know. Back in '62, but after everything — anyway. It doesn't matter. The beginning. It happened during the forty-eight, second orbit.8 I admit, I felt something on the first orbit but there were other things to focus on and maybe I was just more effective at tuning it out. But I couldn't, not after that second time. I heard it, and it knew that I could. That maybe I was the first person it ever had known could. EL-BAZ: A voice? COLLINS: Not — not one that I could hear in a normal way, which I know sounds crazy but it wasn't something audible. I tried to record it on the later orbits, but no instruments in the CM caught anything. I can't describe it, Farouk. It — whatever it was — it knew me, knew that I could tell it was there, what it was doing — what it is doing. It — shit, it reminded me a lot of you, of all you scientists who tend to stick in the labs, you know? And it couldn't believe that I could understand it. EL-BAZ: What do you mean understand it, Michael? COLLINS: It wasn't speaking English, and I never could see it — with my eyes, if that makes sense. But every orbit, every time the silence fell on the CM I knew it better, could tell that what we've thought about the Moon, about our Earth, about everything is wrong, Farouk. The closer we get to thinking we know everything — we realize — we've got to realize — EL-BAZ: We can — we can pause, if you need to, Michael. I promise, we have time to work through this all. [ At this point in the interview, EL-BAZ reported that COLLINS had begun to shake involuntarily, and left eye now had a partial subconjunctival hemorrhage which had not been present at the start of the interview. ] COLLINS: Please. Just — let me get through this. We don't have time, I don't think. EL-BAZ: If you're sure. I've never seen you like this before, my friend. I just worry. COLLINS: But that's just it, Farouk. It's not like me. None of this is like me. I — I have lived my life as the practical one, the logical one. Hell, that's why they made me CMP, right? Because I had to be strong enough to get almost there, but stay above the surface so everyone else could get home. Be level-headed, rational, the whole nine yards. Because if I had no choice but to leave Buzz and Armstrong behind, I could do it if the mission required it, no matter how difficult. No matter the cost, I could get the job done. Because when it comes down to it, I could be counted on to stay the course. EL-BAZ: Mike — [ COLLINS continues, interrupting EL-BAZ with a strained, near-shouting voice. ] COLLINS: But this — this is something else. It's not that I'm afraid of it, Farouk. Remember that Twilight Zone, maybe the first one?9 They were so sure we'd just go crazy, when we got out there and there was nothing. But that wasn't the problem. That was never the problem. [ EL-BAZ reported that at this point, COLLINS put his face closer to his own. In the pupil of his left eye, a clear reflection of a half-moon was shining with unnatural luminosity. ] COLLINS: I'm running away from it because — I'm not afraid of it. I'm not at all and I should be. I should be running like hell, because I know. I know it's there, just out of sight. Asking me to let it in. And I can't because I know with that last bit of rational self I have left that I can't, even a bit. Because that would change everything, for everyone. And I can't, Farouk, even though I want to more than anything. I can't be the one who does. No one should! [ The sound of something being knocked off a desk can be heard on the recording. COLLINS continues, voice softer. ] COLLINS: Please. Please. I know you can make people forget. Forget and keep going like it never happened. Just — do whatever you have to do, but just make sure that you do it to yourself too. We can't risk it, Farouk. We can't risk letting it in. After the conclusion of this interview, Dr. El-Baz remanded Collins to Foundation custody where he was successfully treated with amnestics and released. Preemptive anti-cognitohazard training of all Apollo CMPs before successive missions to SCP-8520-1 appeared to prevent further anomalous contact, although several CMPs reported the sense of being 'watched' during their blackout phase of orbit, with varying levels of distress at the memories. Michael Collins exhibited no further anomalous behaviors, although he remained in close contact with Dr. El-Baz until the former's death. El-Baz noted that Collins would often call him "unprompted, out of the blue to ask me how my work was going." I've tried for so long. ADDENDUM - 8520.23 Following several incidents of unintentional crash landings on the lunar surface with rovers, rockets, and other astronomical experiments, Foundation internet analytics noted a significant increase in internet traffic to previously unknown information sites describing SCP-8520 and its poorly understood nature.10 Although remediation efforts removed the sites and site archives as quickly as possible, each event resulted in an estimated ~10,000 hits by unique users. Investigations at Alphabet, Cloudflare, and Amazon Web Services have yet to yield information about how these sites were created, hosted, or advertised to users. In early 2023, Dr. El-Baz received a voice message on his Foundation office phone, although both El-Baz and Site Dispatch noted that no call was received directly. The message was heavily distorted, primarily by a low-pitched, slow beating resembling something close to a heartbeat, but the voice of Collins could be heard repeating the phrases 'it is listening' and 'it no longer waits' before the message ended. Michael Collins had died of cancer two years prior, and had been buried at Arlington National Cemetery the day before El-Baz received this message.11 Show Footnotes Hide Footnotes Footnotes 1. SCP-8520 has been classified Enochian, as item cannot be contained due to its properties constituting an aspect of baseline reality. 2. Research indicates that roughly 0.002% of the population is immune to SCP-8520's effects, however the mechanisms (biological or otherwise) which cause the immunity are poorly understood at this time. 3. Varies during orbit from around 356,400 km (221,500 mi) at perigee to 406,700 km (252,700 mi) at apogee. All gravitational, tidal, and other natural effects attributed to lunar influence are caused by SCP-8520-1 in actuality. 4. It should be noted at this time that the only direct communication with SCP-8520-1 has been with the Command Module Pilots of the Apollo manned missions, with the exception of CMP Jack Swigert during the Apollo 13 mission. It is presumed that this was due to the electrical malfunction which necessitated the abortion of the lunar landing, thus eliminating the typical isolation period of the command module pilot. 5. Specifically the archaeological excavations at Ur, Nimrūd, and Nuzi. 6. Sumerian misfortune demon, believed to be always hiding just out of sight. 7. Nellis Air Force Base, Nevada, USA. Collins trained there as a fighter pilot in 1953. 8. After the lunar landing module Eagle descended towards its expected landing site in the Mare Tranquillitatis area with astronauts Neil Armstrong and Edwin 'Buzz' Aldrin, Collins remained behind in the Columbia command module which remained in orbit around SCP-8520-1. During each orbit the CM was out of radio contact with earth for 48 minutes. Collins orbited SCP-8520-1 a total of thirty times. 9. The pilot episode of the television serial The Twilight Zone, titled 'Where Is Everybody?' first aired on 2 Oct, 1959. The plot featured an astronaut undergoing extreme isolation testing and experiencing extreme hallucinations and mental distress, theoretically mimicking conditions on future missions. 10. This activity spiked to its highest points after the Chang'e 5 Mission (undertaken by the CNSA) and Luna-25 Mission (undertaken by Roscosmos). 11. Although cremated shortly after his death, the internment of his ashes had been delayed due to the COVID-19 pandemic. At last, you are ready. Diagraphephobia Anthology 2024 Automatonophobia ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8520" by AriadnesThread, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8520. 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: Moon.jpg Author: the real Kam75 License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Moon_(6118589469).jpg |
SCP-8530 | euclid | This bit down here controls the logo and subtitle changes. Is it cursed? Yes. Is it annoyingly effective? Also yes. :root { --lgurl: url(https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/theme%3Aad-abyssum-penumbra/tacttheo_{$division}.png); --header-subtitle: var(--{$division}); } by Ethagon NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION RECORDS AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION This file denotes one possible state of the city Maladh, as originally discovered. Information about Maladh after Incident-8530-G, as well as all other possible states of the city, are filed under Nx-53. CONFIDENTIAL Clearance 4/General - 2/Nexology Disinformation, Tactical Theology Site-107 S E K T N NA Unstable A5 A4 A3 A2 B5 B4 B3 B2 C5 C4 C3 C2 D5 D4 D3 D2 E5 E4 E3 E2 KETER AAA EEE Ȼ ? T Any_value Vedist I Vedist II Vedist III Vedist IV Vedist V Vedist VI SCP-8530 SCP-8530 approached during a mild sandstorm. Pictured is the skyscraper the Spiral (right) and the apartment complex the Moon (left). Special Containment Procedures: All exchange of SCP-8530 with the outside world is to be drastically reduced. Trains and airplanes leading to SCP-8530 are to be delayed or cancelled. References to SCP-8530 in media are to be kept to a minimum. Preparations are in place should the need arise to remove SCP-8530 from the public consciousness. These measures will be replaced with complete Containment Procedures as soon as investigations are finished. Description: SCP-8530 is the city Maladh (ملاذ) located in Egypt from the moment of its creation until Incident-8530-G. It was built by SCP-8530-A on top of a small desert village over the course of 10 years. It has transformed into a tourism hotspot famous for skyscrapers like the Spiral and the Moon next to projects like Maladh Center Mall, the largest cinema complex in Egypt and the Greenhouse Towers. The original village and its small population have since been entirely displaced. SCP-8530-A is Mirza Qadir, the founder and governor of SCP-8530. 90% of all businesses operating in SCP-8530 are directly affiliated with SCP-8530-A. SCP-8530 first came to the attention of the Foundation during a joint mission with the Global Occult Coalition and the Horizon Initiative in an effort to contain KTE-5503-Bice-Copernicus. In preparation for this containment effort, it was noted that neither the Foundation nor the Global Occult Coalition had any presence in the city at the time. A city the size of SCP-8530 would at minimum demand increased data surveillance and the localization of either three Level-0 or one Level-1 Informant. As no such action has taken place, malicious interference is suspected, necessitating a full analysis of SCP-8530. Meeting-8530-A Attendees: Agent Ellen O'Connor, Department of Analytics Agent Tess (Codename), Disinformation Bureau Director Heba Gomaa, Site-107 Captain Emmanuel Tirk, MTF-Eta-77 ("Spheres Within Spheres") Location: Site-107 Topic: Assessment of SCP-8530 Language: English Tess: Meeting begins. For the record, all information is given out in files as Site-107 currently lacks a functioning projector. Gomaa: Only because our budget is continuously– Tess: Don't interrupt me. Additionally, Captain Tirk has joined us to provide useful intel on KTE-5503. O'Connor: The Angel is in the city? Tirk: I would bet on it. Tess: We can move on to that later — first, the assessment of Analytics. O'Connor: Right. There's a high chance the whole city is anomalous. Gomaa: Hold on, all of it? O'Connor: That or something is messing with all the data we got. The logistics of Maladh don't make any sense. The roads can't transport all the water the city consumes, and its electrical bill is enough for a continent. Tess: Why has this not been noticed before? O'Connor: Because you can't notice it. The analyst looking at Maladh's power grid ended up with internally consistent numbers to anything she could find. Same for the water transportation. Even if I put two of them together, everything would match up. But the numbers change. [O'Connor throws files of an analysis repeated three times on the table. The numbers are censored. All files look vastly different.] O'Connor: Comparing numbers leads to the same effect. But I know my team. The methods change because the data changes. Tess: Meaning what? O'Connor: It means the logistics don't add up. It's like a kaleidoscope that is always right no matter where you look at the anomaly. Gomaa: Wait, is that it? The city is already an anomaly now? O'Connor: Of course. The fact that it bends logistics alone makes this an Analytics threat. Gomaa: I don't think that's– it could be a single actor that's causing this. O'Connor: If it was only the logistics that was wrong, sure. But we're also dealing with the Chaos Insurgency. Tess: (sighs) Is that why you came personally? Gomaa: (under her breath) Of course Analytics only shows up when it's their own chaos to deal with. O'Connor: Fiveteen different cells of the Insurgency have been discovered to operate in Maladh. Do any of you know what that means? [She throws more files at the table listing a bunch of organizations and what might connect them to the Insurgency: "your Car Insurance", the restaurant "Catering Isolated", or the "Causality Institute".] O'Connor: It means this will blow up. The Insurgency's precognition thrives best in chaotic situations. This many cells here are our metaphorical vultures circling a soon-to-be-dead animal. Gomaa: Are these names originally in English? O'Connor: Only the restaurant name is translated. The acronym doesn't show up in Arabic. Gomaa: Okay, but that really sounds more like a coincidence. O'Connor: The Insurgency is not the only GoI active here, as Tirk here can tell you. Tirk: (nods) KTE-5503 went off the radar for a while, but we managed to track it down to Maladh. It's here. We don't know why it's here, but we have a few guesses. It might be part of a fifthist migration, given that Hector Canvera, and countless sectless also made– O'Connor: (stands up) Did you say Canvera? Tirk: Yeah? Fifth-riches man, famous for– O'Connor: Hector Canvera left the planet in 2017. Tirk: What? No, we tracked him like all survivors of the fifthist deicide. [O'Connor shakes her head in thought.] Gomaa: Survivors? Tirk: Not in the literal sense. The death of the god, or whatever it was, that held Fifthism together caused a worldwide crisis of faith. Most sects didn't survive. Even the Fifth Church didn't. But you know how some are, just escaped faith, but they can't wait for the next hit of opium. Gomaa: (narrows eyes) Are you still talking about fifthism here? Tirk: Canvera and the angel are the opium. I think there was a smaller cult leader a bit ago who tried the same in Maladh. Gomaa: Did we have any measures in place to maybe help the people who just escaped from a cult? Tess: That was handled by the Bureau. And the majority of former Fifthists seem to have done fine on their own. [Gomaa sighs in exasperation.] O'Connor: Okay, we've got the Insurgency and a fifthist gathering with a soon-to-arrive impossible billionaire. There's a last faction missing from the picture. Tirk: Do you mean the Soiling Craft? Because of the water– O'Connor: No. They're not in Africa right now. Gomaa: The governor. O'Connor: (nods quickly) I have evidence that Mirza Qadir was connected to the Insurgency shortly before founding this city. Tirk: Great. O'Connor: (shakes her head adamantly) No, the Canvera thing still doesn't fit. Unless– Tirk: We got a bit offtrack, as far as the Fifthists are involved I need to add we're here for the Angel. I don't care about anything else, but that thing doesn't leave this city uncontained. O'Connor: Personal grudge? Tirk: That thing is a perversion of individuality. It turns you into a bizarro reflection of yourself. A reality bender wearing your face, everything made a mockery of your former self. O'Connor: (snaps fingers) Of course, give me the files, I think this could mean– Tess: You may speculate after this meeting. I believe we have gathered enough information. The activity of the city is far outside our tolerance level. Gomaa: That sounds like you want to go scorched earth on them. Tess: Of course. I would prefer to call Nu-7 in, but given the limited time, our currently deployed Task Forces should be sufficient. Gomaa: You can't. If you condemn the city, you condemn all the civilians with it. And if this is as much of a powder keg as you're making it out to be, then we absolutely cannot counter it with firepower. Tess: The procedure will be up to my MTF Captain Faez, as this operation falls under the Bureau. I believe that will be all. Meeting– Gomaa: (hard) And the bureau falls under me as long as we are in Egypt. Did you forget who of us is the Regional Director? [Tess's expression does not change as she turns to Gomaa.] Tess: Very well. Will precision strikes be agreeable? [Gomaa hesitates. She nods.] Tess: Meeting adjourned. Supplemental Material KTE-5503 KTE-5503 KTE-5503 is a deviant Empyrean entity that was summoned from the "Fifth World", the domain and part of the deceased Apex Pluripotent Entity Complex "Starfish". It appears as a mirror accompanied by five space-warping axes distributed around it. Its previous angelic duties consisted of the reflection of fifth light from the Starfish to believers of its various cults. Indestructible as is typical of Empyrean entities. Current motivations unknown. Deviance is confirmed as the death of its god made its duty impossible. Can be fed with reality anchors tuned to the Fifth World, though this is not recommended as it uses the eaten reality to turn people into reality benders. Information is shared between the Foundation, the Global Occult Coalition, and to a limited degree the Horizon Initiative to stop the threat posed by KTE-5503. GOC codeword used in all documentation for ease of communication. Operation Come and See is currently being devised as a temporary containment measure. Hector Canvera Hector Canvera PoI-11238 (Hector Canvera) is the fifth-richest man in the world and a former member of the now-defunct GoI-005 (Fifth Church). Despite that, it is unknown how aware he is of the larger fifthist phenomenon. He seems only to have a loose awareness of the anomalous and the Veils at large. Canvera was one of the less affected by the fifthist crisis of faith, leading his techno-cult to survive the crisis. It was still affected by the missing presence of the Starfish. Next to KTE-5503 and PoI-55031 (Pink Lighter) Canvera has become a beacon of hope among ex-fifthists who are not yet ready to give up their faith. The Moon The Moon is the flagship project of SCP-8530 and the only apartment complex in the world with no contact with the ground. The entirety of the building hovers more than 100 meters over a supermagnet that is constantly repulsing magnetic material in the building. Since its inauguration, none of the apartments in the Moon have been sold and it remained unoccupied until its fall. The Moon served as further indication of anomalous phenomenon in SCP-8530 as no mechanism exists that would protect the Moon from wind. Despite this, the Moon has remained exactly over the centre of the supermagnet. The lack of strong winds near the Moon is assumed to have been prevented by the logistical anomaly in SCP-8530. The Moon is surrounded by a roughly 300 meter dead zone in all directions. The city issues no warning when entering the zone, but it is indicated by the barren and broken concrete field as well as the increasingly dangerous attraction or repulsion of all magnetic material (including water and therefore humans). The extreme environmental impact had been well-hidden until the cessation of the logistical anomaly. Including the noticeable effect on all magnetic material in the city, the supermagnet's field disrupted bird flight patterns across the region. Considering the earthquakes experienced by SCP-8530, though more evidence is required, it is possible the magnet might have effected tectonic plates as well. Under non-anomalous circumstances keeping the Moon hovering would have required 30% of global electricity output. Audio-Log-8530-B While SCP-8530-B attributes the success of his city to his talent for planning logistics, most of the city's projects would not have been possible without the cheap workforce hidden away in the city. New workers, mostly from outside Egypt, get lured to the city with the promise of high salaries and stable jobs to be trapped in worker camps off the grid with little food and space provided and a fraction of the promised salary. Their work hours exceed the 8 hours per day allowed per Egyptian labour law. The difficulty in locating these camps as well as the opaqueness of their exact purpose has raised the possibility of anomalous activity instead of just illegal business practices. MTF Xi-13 "Sequere Nos" supported by Eta-77 "Spheres within Spheres" have been sent to investigate a worker camp after suspicious activity had been identified by a local contact. As the camp was covered in a minor sandstorm upon arrival, only the audio log has been included. Video Log available upon request. Command: Agent Tess Task Force: Captain Faez (Xi-13) 20 of the task force's 40 total members Captain Tirk (Eta-77) Apian Septimal Contact: Basem Hafez Noteworthy Equipment: Authority-Class Cognitohazard ID Badges, Foundation Standard Issue Stun Guns, Foundation Standard Issue Rifle Language: Arabic Foreword: To not arouse suspicion in the camp the two MTF teams and the contact have been split off to pass the checkpoint at separate times, posing as an undefined higher authority. Captain Tirk and the two Eta-77 agents are the last ones to arrive. Note: The contact is tuned in on a different frequency which has been separated from the main frequency and surrounding noises. <Begin Log> Command: Eta-77, be advised that GPS registers you all outside the city. Tirk: Spatial warping already? My Akiva Counter has also been swaying around the 55 mark. You can bet this is a fifthist worship place. Or a saint. Guard: ID. [Tirk can be heard getting something out of his pocket.] Guard: (surprised) Apologies, sir. Right this way. Tirk: Yeah, yeah. Keep this on the down-low. Guard: Of course, sir. [The car drives for a while. After a while it stops.] Faez: Took you long enough. Command, all agents ready. Command: Acknowledged. Tirk, how good did the meme take hold? Tirk: He seemed quite shaken. But we used it too many times for them not to get suspicious when the coghaz leaves their mind's eye. Hafez: Oh, what's a coghaz? Faez: That's classified. Hafez: Just a little bit? Faez: It's how we got in. Now, be quiet. Command: Copy that. You have half an hour. The GPS and the Akiva rating are enough confirmation. Extract the civilians and contain all hostiles. Faez: Copy. [Quiet footsteps can be heard spreading out.] Faez: The barracks are locked. Permission to enter? Command: Granted. [The team breaks open multiple doors.] Command: Contact? Faez: Nine workers, some asleep. I'd have expected no more than three with rooms like that. Xi-13 member: Are you kept here against your will? [Pause.] Xi-13 member: We're getting you out. Worker: You can't, we– they have our contracts. Xi-13 member: That won't matter soon enough. Now come. Command: Tirk, any changes in the rating? Tirk: None at all. It's been fixed at 55 since we arrived at the rendezvous point. Hafez: (overeager) Wow, that's a lot! How will you sneak all of them past the guards? Faez: Our way out will be a lot less quiet. They'll be safe in the cars. Lower your voice a bit, you scared the civilians. Hafez: Oh, sorry! (lowers voice) Still quite the impressive plan you have there. Faez: It's just standard silent takeover plus civilian extraction protocol. Xi-13 member: Captain, two armed guards are on the way here. Faez: Permission to use Amnestic Gas? Command: Denied, take them out silently. Faez: Copy. (to his team) You heard her. Hafez: You don't seem to like it though. Faez: Huh? Hafez: The protocol. Faez: One second. Faez: Hostiles dispatched, we'll leave them tied up in a barrack, we're running low on transport space. Command: Affirmative. Make sure to contain a subject of higher rank on your way out. [The team continues to evacuate civilians. There is next to no audible protest.] Xi-13 member: (mutters) It reeks in here. Worker: (panicked) Get out. Xi-13 member: What's wrong? Worker: She will see you. Xi-13 member: Who? Worker: (hushed) In the water, now go! Faez: We're getting closer to the gate. Permission to use Amnestic Gas? Command: Granted. Hafez: That was longer than a second. Faez: Sorry. Nothing against the protocol. It's good. Tirk: Apian, interrogate the civilian, we need to know what's wrong with the water. Apian: Copy. Hafez: I'm sensing a but. Faez: We're better than it. Just look at this. We could have gassed them out the entire time. Command: Tirk, have you measured the water? Tirk: No use. My version trades range for accuracy. The rating will stay the same no matter where I point it. Hafez: You'll have to elaborate on that. Faez: There's nothing they could do. Masks? We have versions that are virtually unfilterable. Hafez: Wouldn't that also become a problem for you? Faez: The Higher-Ups don't want us to realise this, but I'm not stupid. You can build up a resistance to anything. Task Forces especially. We would be maskless with the enemy and the enemy could do nothing against us. And no one but the Foundation has the resources to give us that resistance. Hafez: Oh, I like that idea. Faez: Thanks. Hafez: I really like that idea. Tirk: Faez, what are you doing back with the contact? Hafez: Let me steal that idea. [The release of gas can be heard. Multiple agents fall to the ground.] Tirk: Faez has been compromised by the contact, taking command. [Both Tirk and Faez can be heard taking something out.] [Command tunes out the secondary frequency.] Tirk: On the ground, now. [Faez is tackled by a teammate. Still the release of gas can be heard again. Behind it the rushing of water can barely be heard.] Hafez: I'll be honest, this sabotage wasn't my idea either. Now– Tirk: One more word and I'll shoot. [The rushing of water increases in volume.] Hafez: (snorts) You can't aim properly with the Moon in this city anyway, but you– Tirk: Oh, I promise you we're very good at adjusting. Now. stop. talking. [Hafez is silent.] Command: Tirk, there is some interference coming– [Water overtakes every other sound.] <Connection Lost> Command was eventually able to re-establish contact with Captain Tirk. An uptick in the traffic of SCP-8530 immediately following the events of Audio-Log-8530-A would go unnoticed until after Incident-8530-G. After-Action-Report-8530-B Language: Arabic Tirk: -might get contact again. Command: I can hear you. Status Report. Tirk: Hard to tell. We all made it out, I think. Civilians, we lost a bunch. Command: Understood. Return to base and give a proper report. Tirk: I'd advise against that. I can give you a report while we're moving. Command: Start with the water breakout. Tirk: The water was the source of the Akiva after all. Or one of them. Had to deal with two false saints in total if you count Mister Idea-stealer. The other one was… she was too far gone. The water stuck to her. It was full of stars. All of it. As were her eyes. Sea and stars. The fifthist signs couldn't be more obvious. So I gave the okay. Septimal shot her. Command: I will mark it on your record. Tirk: (snorts) You know the whole "only good mission without a shot" thing isn't official policy, right? Command: It is still heavily discouraged. Tirk: Whatever. Didn't think it would kill her anyway, not that I would have complained. Septimal took five shots. Then a sixth. Then a seventh. She blocked the last two. Command: Why? Tirk: Theological disalignment. We haven't figured out why yet, but seven was always a disrupting number for the cult. It would have weakened her if she was a proper fifthist saint, like she seemed to believe. Command: But she still took five hits. Tirk: She staggered at least. The bullets sank in until they hit blood. Then they just vanished. She seemed to mull something over before she and I quote 'expelled your offering from heaven'. I was already under cover when five of my bullets shot out of the water. Command: You had full cover from all water? Tirk: (laughs) It wasn't an attack. She just shot them out at random of her uh, probably a random region of space. No, the actual attack came a moment later. A wall of water that sucked in everything it touched. So we ran. Command: You fled the scene? Tirk: Of course not, we wanted to draw her away from the civilians. Only half-worked. One of our cars hit the water. Gone. Probably out there drowning in a wet vacuum of space. Command: Be specific about the events you're describing. Tirk: Oh, I meant that literally. Anyway, we did somewhat draw her attention. She stepped into the water and appeared in front of Apian. From what she said she was really confused on why we would run away from her 'blessing.' Command: What did she say? Tirk: I think we actually have a recording of that, hold on. Fifthist: (further away) There's a new light. In the starry sea… [A splash.] Fifthist: (directly next to the microphone) …It's everywhere. Apian: We've killed your god. Fifthist: Nono, it can't, there's light, why won't you see… [A crunch followed by a scream.] Tirk: That last bit was me breaking her left arm. Command: That stuck? Tirk: Yeah. I figured it was only the blood that shared the water-vanishing act. I figured right. It had the intended effect. She got more erratic. Throwing water at us without much aim. She even took longer to chase us per teleport. Command: Did you try again? Tirk: Not fully. I got a few jabs in, but she had her guard up. Anything further and I would have been in space. With reality bender, and adjacent, enemies you need to keep the element of surprise. Don't stick to what's working. The jabs only got through because she thought I would break her other arm. Command: What was your next vector of attack? Tirk: The one we had done the entire time. The chase only partly served to get her away from civilians. We just so happened to bring her through wherever Amnestic Gas had been dropped. Lots of it had faded by then, but those areas were far from safe. Eventually she got the memo that something was working on her. And she left. Command: Injuries in your team? Tirk: None. We're trained well. Xi-13 had it harder, going up against one of our own. They subdued Faez at some point. Being immune to Amnestic Gas doesn't make you untouchable. Apparently, Hafez asked for ideas how to get out and one of our agents told him to jump into the water. The false saint followed that instruction. Command: Clarify the term 'false saint' for me. Tirk: Fifthism is dead. And of the two I don't think Hafez even believed in any variation of it. Maybe Canvera's techno-cult, I guess. No, both of them have just been corrupted by the angel, turning their individuality inside-out as some grotesque version of self-validation. I don't think the water fifthist was fully there anymore. Just reduced to a desire for a false paradise. Reduced to her faith. Command: Carry on with your report. Tirk: Not that much else to say. Sure, the whole camp was aware of us now, but we'd dealt with anything anomalous. We made quick work of what defence remained. Anyone important has been captured, but I doubt you'll get anything out of them. This was just the quote-unquote living space for their workforce. They might have really just been normal builders for all those megaprojects like that stupid moon. Command: I'll take it the reason you do not want to return to base is the two escaped subjects? Tirk: Yeah. I managed to attach a tracker to the water teleporter with one of my jabs. She's not going anywhere. Command: Permission to pursue subject granted. <End Log> The tracker first sent a signal in a building belonging to "Crypto Financing Solutions" (حلول تمويل التشفير) before jumping to a hospital. As the tracker gave ample opportunity to easily contain PoI-97867 (Teleporting Fifthist) in her sleep, a higher priority was given to Crypto Financing Solutions. Preliminary investigation revealed a connection to Hector Canvera together with "Architectural Innovation Technologies" (AI Tech for short). The Greenhouse Towers "The Greenhouse Towers" was an ecological project to offset the city's carbon footprint. It was planned for the towers to make use of vertical farming in the towers' artificial weather conditions thereby reducing economical and ecological transportation costs of crops into Maladh. It is to be noted that transportation costs were slightly exaggerated in the conception stage. The Towers were additionally supposed to produce energy through biogas produced as a byproduct and solar panels using any excess light. While construction was finished, the towers never began to serve their farming purpose. The majority of the Towers stand empty, while a few were filled with exotic plantlife by SCP-8530-A. Following Incident-8530-G, the Greenhouse Towers are now used for their original purpose. After-Action-Report-8530-C Captain Faez was cleared of any remaining compulsions. He recalls neither the events under compulsion nor the idea he had shared with Hafez. All Amnestic Gas was taken away from the team as an additional precaution. The two MTFs were split to deal with both Crypto Financing Solutions and AI Tech simultaneously with 20 Xi-13 members each. Command: Agent Tess Task Force: Captain Faez (Xi-13) All 40 of the task force's members Captain Tirk (Eta-77) Apian Septimal Noteworthy Equipment: Authority-Class Cognitohazard ID Badges, Foundation Standard Issue Stun Guns, Foundation Standard Issue Rifle Language: Arabic Events summarized by Agent Tess The first anomaly became apparent directly after both teams discreetly entered their respective buildings. The location we picked up was the same for both teams. I ordered them to regroup before any further action was to be taken and they did. The building was swept without much interference. Only non-combatants were present at this point. We can assume PoI-97867 (Teleporting Fifthist) warned any person of import of our presence before our arrival. An effort was made by a subgroup of the workface to resist containment. This effort consisted of an attempt to weaponize monitors to display fifthists cognitohazards as well as tactics expected of non-cooperative civilians. As expected these efforts proved to be no hindrance to total containment. I expect no negative consequences, but cognitohazardous screening and decontamination will be added to the post-mission operation as is protocol. The encountered workforce can be divided into two groups. The first can be characterized as subjects under the "idea-stealing" effect of PoI-20417 (Basem Hafez), working to implement their stolen ideas for one of the two investigated businesses. Very few individuals in this group resisted containment efforts. Post-mission these will be reintegrated into society. The second group consists of followers of PoI-11238 (Hector Canvera) and appears to have voluntarily participated in the business. Given the usage of cognitohazards this group will need to be screened for further anomalies and subjected to full deprogramming before reintegrating into society is possible. The Regional Director wanted me to note that unlike the first group this one consisted entirely of Americans. Recovered data suggests 80% of the fled persons of import were likewise American. The recovered data was useful. Despite existing in the same space, the first group was oblivious to the spatial anomaly. Both companies were for the most part working contracts for the city, being responsible for some of the planning that went into the city's various megaprojects. I can therefore confirm none of the projects are in themselves anomalous. This becomes a harder distinction to make for future projects which seem to verge into the more esoteric. These plans verge into the nonsensical. Expert Interpreters are required to analyse this data. The team additionally recovered data regarding a cryptocurrency-related scheme designed for Canvera to use. Unfortunately some data was damaged in the last third of the mission, but I am confident the Department of Analytics will find a usecase for the information. This damage was incured by the only major complication of the mission. PoI-97867 entered the facility. The arm Captain Tirk broke was in a plaster cast, though Agent Septimal was the only one able to spot her. Instead of the direct confrontation of last time she kept her distance from the team and only engaged our MTF unit via her water-manipulating anomaly. The ensuing fight caused the damage of the recovered data. Similar to her last appearance, PoI-97867 did not use her anomaly optimally for combat purposes. Captain Faez and Tirk formed a plan. Tirk would distract the PoI while Xi-13 would locate the Fifthist and contain her before she could teleport. Tirk interrogated her on her beliefs and asked how she could align her work with the crisis of faith felt by all fifthists. PoI-97867 seems to escape this contradiction by believing all 'good fifthists' to have already reached heaven, her job simply being to get all the stragglers in. Tirk accused her of being fooled by KTE-5503 and demanded her to reveal its location. PoI-97867 was delighted by this response and began to enclose Captain Tirk in water. To stop this effort, Xi-13 revealed itself too early and shot at the PoI. Unfortunately, the PoI was able to escape, together with Tirk. I will note that Tirk did not resist his enclosure in water. The tracker of the PoI is still active, but we have lost the signal of Captain Tirk. Barring any signs of life I will declare him MIA at the end of the day. Concurrently with the above mission the Foundation was contacted by the Global Occult Coalition under the mantle of the two organizations shared efforts against KTE-5503. A meeting was started while the Task Forces where still combing through the remaining intact data. Meeting-8530-D Attendees: Agent Ellen O'Connor, Department of Analytics Agent Tess (Codename), Disinformation Bureau Director Heba Gomaa, Site-107 Location: Site-107 Topic: GOC Involvement Language: English Tess: Meeting begins. Purpose is constructing a response to a request by the Global Occult Coalition to enter the city for their own operation. Gomaa: (nervous) What do they want in the city? O'Connor: Just like us they also had no presence in the city prior to the angel incident. Curiosity about that fact alone would be enough justification. Though I bet they found out that Qadir is anomalous and are pissed there's an anomalous-enhanced city not under their control. Tess: That is correct. I have a relevant segment of our conversation. GOC Contact: That brings me to KTE-5503. Tess: We could not yet locate it, but we have encountered some of its followers. GOC Contact: If it is too much you can still let us do that part. Assess where it's at emotionally and if it can't be talked to, well, we did find a method that might actually destroy this particular angel. Classic Talk or Lead. Tess: There is no need to discuss this again. We both know killing an angel is impossible. Operation Come and See— GOC Contact: Won't be ready before you encounter it. So what will you do? Tess: We agree KTE-5503 needs to be assessed. All evidence suggests that it is comfortable in its current situation. If this proves to be true all we need to do is contain its damage to this area and stall it until Come and See is ready. GOC Contact: Stalling. (snorts) Best description for containment I've heard yet. Tess: We have an agreement. GOC Contact: That we have. You focus on the angel, but we get the governor. Tess: What do you intend to do with Qadir? GOC Contact: Make sure this city complies with UN regulations. Just a talk. Tess: Classic Talk or Lead? GOC Contact: There's nothing to worry about, we put Demomancers on the job. This isn't our first rodeo. We've eased a lot of government aparatus with a missing head into their new state in the past. The magic helps. Tess: So there is a lead. GOC Contact: The process works. Plenty of times it went even unnoticed by you. Do we have a deal? Tess: This decision is not up to me, I will convene with the Regional Director. Tess: For reference as this is outside expected Foundation knowledge: Demomancers are Thaumaturges specialized in occult arts targeting Democracy and people on a large scale. Gomaa: Could you ask them to refrain? Tess: I could. But I have no authority over Coalition forces and am therefore unable to force them to comply. [Pause.] Tess: What would be a good reason for them to refrain? Gomaa: They'd just make the situation more complicated. We've already seen how much activity we've caused in the city with our two operations. I don't think confronting the governor directly would be a good idea at this stage. Tess: The Coalition has assured us they would deal with the governor in silence and are prepared for all outcomes of the ultimatum. The city will only feel the repercussions in the coming months. O'Connor: Honestly might be for the best if we let the GOC deal with the governor while we focus elsewhere. Did they tell you what his anomaly is? Tess: (nods) It has been agreed to share most information regarding SCP-8530 and KTE-5503 between our two organizations. The Demomancers were able to pinpoint the governor as the source of the logistics anomaly you found. [O'Connor runs to Tess and looks at the files in front of her.] Gomaa: A logistics bender? How much of the city does he– O'Connor: All of it. (staggers back) The electricity, the traffic, the flow of money. It all goes through him. That's how he was able to build his paradise right under our nose. Tess: Return to your seat. O'Connor: (pacing around) This fits into the scheme of the angel's other victims. The ability to bend reality geared towards fulfilling your desires. But when would he… Tess: We are drifting off the topic at hand. [Tess's phone starts to vibrate.] Tess: Apologies. [Tess takes the call.] [REDACTED — Δ/GENERAL CLEARANCE REQUIRED] [ACCESS GRANTED] Delta-T Caller: This is the Temporal Anomalies Department. Am I speaking with Agent Tess during a meeting regarding SCP-8530? Tess: Yes. How can I help you? Delta-T Caller: Please put me on speaker. [Tess clicks a button on her phone.] Delta-T Caller: Can any one of you tell me your current year? Gomaa: It's–, it's uh… [Gomaa widens her eyes in shock.] O'Connor: (mumbles) There's past events that I know of, but no that, it doesn't fit. Why doesn't it fit? Delta-T Caller: (aside) See Gray? I told you they wouldn't know. (to the phone) Alright, thank you. We won't bother you further. [ACCESS GRANTED] [The caller hangs up.] [The group is stunned.] Tess: I… don't think I can forward this information to the Coalition. O'Connor: (shakes herself) But it helps me. It means I can reduce constraints. Here's the timeline of events for this city: First we have the angel incident. There is evidence for both the angel and Qadir to have been with the Insurgency following this incident. I can now conclude the angel corrupted Qadir during that time. Then they both came here to build this city. That was 10 years ago. Gomaa: But how did the call help you? O'Connor: The angel incident only started because someone planned the incident in this city. Gomaa: Oh. O'Connor: Yeah. Tess: These are all important revelations, but we still have a response to draft. O'Connor: I say let them. No way can we let this city run if there is anomalous distortion to this degree. Gomaa: We need to evacuate the civilians. As many as we can. Tess: (nods) We'll use the train method. Gomaa: The one that compels you to join the ride? Tess: It is the fastest method. Is that all? O'Connor: (snaps) Oh! We have a new place for our MTF buddies to check out. It could be a faint, you never know with the Insurgency, but given the call, I bet the Causality Institute might be worth a visit. Tess: I will let them know. Meeting adjourned. Maladh Center Mall (مول ملاذ سنتر) Close to the centre of the city, Maladh Center Mall is the only mall in the world where shopping is possible without leaving the car. All shops in the Mall have a pedestrian and a car opening. The car opening functions as an extra lane where employees of the shop give you requested products. The system was modeled after fast food drive-throughs. Pedestrian entry is possible and easiest to achieve by entering the mall by car and using its underground car park. Without a car and without ignoring traffic laws pedestrian entry is also possible, but there is no point in the city where this takes less time than arriving in the mall via train. While this went unnoticed at the time, the Maladh Center Mall saw a sharp increase in activity following the events of Audio-Log-8530-B. Video-Transcript-8530-E Command: Agent Tess Task Force: Captain Faez (Xi-13) All 40 of the task force's members 2 members of Eta-77 Noteworthy Equipment: Authority-Class Cognitohazard ID Badges, Foundation Standard Issue Stun Guns, Foundation Standard Issue Rifle Language: Arabic Faez: Do we have everything? Xi-13 member: Yes. Faez: Alright, let's move on. Unknown: I would advise against that. [A man dressed in a suit comes in, his hands resting over each other. His right hand wears a red glove.] [The team trains their guns on him.] Faez: Hands where I can see them. Unknown: I believe you can see my hands. I much prefer this position. Faez: Hands up. Now! Unknown: Alright. No talking. [The man rips off the red glove. In the same moment the projectile of a stun gun hits him. The man goes down. His right hand twitches.] Faez: Alright. Let's clean this up and we're out. [Three Xi-13 members draw near the collapsed man. Two keep their guns raised while the third takes out handcuffs. The right hand twitches stronger before it reaches directly into the third member. He's shot in arm and leg, this time with proper bullets, but it does not prevent him from pulling himself up at the agents spine.] [Faez shoots him in the head. The man turns into a standing corpse.] Faez: Switch back to stun. [The corpse gets pulled along as the now halfway-blood covered right hand shoots towards the first and second agent near the corpse with pinpoint accuracy. More stun projectiles hit, but they do little more than make the corpse convulse. Three agents down.] Faez: Fall back, keep shooting. [A direct hit on the hand is regenerated away immediately. Life slowly returns to the corpse. With support of the body the hand runs towards its next victim. As it breaches the agent's torso they grab the assailant's arm to keep the hand from pulling out.] Faez: Do you still want to talk? Unknown: (chuckles) Sure. Faez: Did you also cut a deal with the angel? [Parts of the group disengages to a nearby room. The rest encircles the assailant, but keep their distance.] Unknown: Oh no. I'm second generation. Faez: What does that mean? Unknown: I think it will take a while before you find out. [The assailant takes out a white handkerchief with his left hand, his right still stuck in the barely conscious agent.] Faez: Why are you here? Insurgent: I have orders to stop you from messing with the Causality Institute. Faez: Yeah, I figured. Insurgent: (wide-eyed) Oh. [The impaled agent collapses. The Insurgent leans on him to keep him upright between him and Faez.] Insurgent: Well, it doesn't matter. I cut off the only exit. Faez: How confident are you in that theory? [As the insurgent hesitates three of the agents having previously encircled him suddenly sprint past the door.] Insurgent: This won't help you. [The insurgent rips his hand out of the dead agent. He wipes the fully blood-covered hand off with the handkerchief at the same moment that Faez shoots him in the head. Still, he gives chase led by his red right hand.] Faez: Command, it might take a while before we've successfully left the building. [Faez runs in the opposite direction.] Maladh Cinema Stadium (ملعب سينما ملاذ) Far enough away from the Moon for all electronics to work properly stands the Maladh Cinema Stadium. Originally planned as a normal sport stadium, the field has been replaced by big screens in front of the seats across the building. While it has lowerable walls between segments of the stadium, they are not soundproof. Unless all segments are showing the same movie, audio is brought to the viewer through earphones. The Maladh Cinema Stadium was an attempt to build up a second focal point of the Arabic film industry next to Cairo. As the city was not able to convince many businesses to settle in Maladh over Cairo, nothing else of this effort remains. A list of shown movies could not be recovered. Unlike many of the preceding nights, on the day of Incident-8530-G, the stadium was fully packed. Video-Transcript-8530-F The burned video recorder of Captain Tirk was recovered during Incident-8530-G. It contains a video of an event happening shortly before the aforementioned incident. Any attempts to make contact with Captain Tirk during this time have been met by heavy interference. The location was identified as the restaurant "Catering Isolated". [A vortex of water full of stars builds and throws out Emmanuel Tirk.] Tirk: Where did you bring me? [The water vanishes into itself. Tirk looks around. He is in an otherwise empty restaurant, all windows shuttered. There is only one table with one chair. Opposite of that chair is a fivefold mirror.] Tirk: You. KTE-5503: No. Me. [As Tirk draws closer he sees himself reflected in the angel. His reflection looks even more furious than he does. It holds no weapon, but itself. There is a fire in its eyes burning as much if not more than Tirk's eyes do. Nevertheless, it contorts its face into a smile.] KTE-5503: I wanted to talk with the me, I, so I was brought here. Tirk: What? I thought you live here now. KTE-5503: I, I, do. This is where the me-I has helped so many people to find themselves. Like I will be helped. Tirk: I don't need anyone's help. KTE-5503: No, I never did. I will just take whatever I need. Tirk: Stop copying me! I. will. not be one of your false saints. [KTE-5503 spits forward. Tirk is surprised at the spit being real.] KTE-5503: There are no false saints. Every one of those is a fool who threw away their one chance at true individuality. [Tirk sits down.] Tirk: (snorts) You simply corrupted them. KTE-5503: This is a mirror, Emmanuel. It can only reflect what was already there. Tirk: Isn't your divine purpose reflecting the light of the Starfish? How is that working out for you. KTE-5503: The death of god was a blessing. A true chance for growth. And I, I, am learning. The me-I thinks it has found itself. A new purpose. A terrible purpose. Tirk: Spit it out. KTE-5503: I already saw it. Here in my, I's, city. The "gift" shared with everyone in the world. And it will happen unless someone stops the me-I. Tirk: Oh, you can bet we will. KTE-5503: (shakes its reflected head) I'm not getting it. This (gestures its reflected hand) has a greater intellect behind it. But the me-I is subservient to the intelligence of who is actually being reflected. Tirk: (cautious) You don't mean… KTE-5503: Yes. We can stop the me-I. I can give myself all the tools I need to stop the angel. [The five axes of the angel begin to rapidly rotate around the reflection.] KTE-5503: To stop any god. [Tirk abruptly stands up. He looks his reflection directly in the eyes and sees himself.] Tirk: Do it. [The mirror engulfs the room.] [DATA LOST] The Spiral The Spiral is the highest building in Maladh (not counting the Moon). It doubles as both the city's sole government facility and a penthouse for the governor, Marza Qadir. The name refers to the two streets winding the tower and terminating in front of Qadir's penthouse on the highest floor. Every third floor is reachable by car. As these entrances only feature one parking space each, and it is expected to leave spaces frequented by Qadir free, they go largely unused in favour of the security elevator. No elevator or staircase connects to Qadir's penthouse which is only connected to the winding streets. The Spiral stands in the exact centre of the city. Following Incident-8530-G its name and its position in a roughly circular city have been deemed notable by Agent O'Connor. The purpose of the Spiral's basement floors remains unidentified. Incident-8530-G The GOC delegation consisting of three thaumaturges from the member organization "Electorate of Demomancers" arrived at the Spiral shortly after the events depicted in Video-Transcript-8530-E. Other agents are stationed in the surrounding skyscrapers. The Coalition has been made aware of the magnetic interference caused by the Moon and has warded their equipment and their agents against it. MTF Xi-13 was at this time still evacuating the office building while chased by the Insurgent. As this chase includes notable elements of the incident, they are depicted concurrently with the video log provided by the GOC. [Demomancers enter the office. The two floor spanning room is surrounded by glass walls on all sides, only occasionally interrupted by more solid material. Unlike his private apartment, this workspace office sits low enough to not look down on the entirety of Maladh's skyline.] First Demomancer: Mr. Qadir? Qadir: What are you doing here? First Demomancer: I believe we have an appointment. Qadir: No, we don't. And I don't have time for this, I have a meeting with Canvera in three minutes. [The Demomancers briefly stand still.] Second Demomancer: No, you don't. His flight was delayed. Qadir: (frowns) You're right. [The third Demomancer closes the door.] Qadir: But we all know we don't have an appointment either. [Qadir pushes a button under his table.] Second Demomancer: Don't bother. Every single one of your workers has called in sick today. Isn't that a coincidence? First Demomancer: We don't plan on doing anything, just wanted to get any distractions out of the way. [Qadir concentrates on something. The third Demomancer keeps their eyes closed and murmurs something.] Qadir: You have five minutes. First Demomancer: Mr. Qadir, I believe you know what organization we represent? Qadir: (snorts) Your time is running. Say what you've come to say. First Demomancer: Very well. Given the amount of paranormal elements in your city, you must have while not read in, at least been aware of the existence of paranormal law. Qadir: Yeah, I know the law. I have my government contacts and what you're doing is clearly outside it. First Demomancer: Mr. Qadir, the current state of Maladh goes directly against UN doctrine. You have two options going forward. The first one consists of Maladh becoming a paranormal enclave. This means some UN oversight and the obfuscation of Maladh from the general public, but this would enable you to be more free with the paranormal, within reason. More importantly as an enclave you would be your own state, independent from Egypt. If things go really well you might even make it onto the Council of 108. The Council is in desperate need of more North-African perspectives, if you ask me. [Faez runs past a TV screen. He stops. It shows the first demomancer outlining two ultimatums to the governor.] Faez: Oh no. Command, come in! First Demomancer: The second option is to discontinue any paranormal activities immediately, including your own. Things will otherwise remain the same. Either way, however, your obfuscation of this city's logistics will have to stop. Normally we would give you time to think over our proposals, but… Second Demomancer: …in light of there being no democratic process here whatsoever, we believe you're able to make your decision now. First Demomancer: We are willing to wait a bit, but the answer has to come in this meeting. Qadir: …You're so full of yourself. Command: What's your status? Have you escaped the building? Faez: That's not what's important right now. The GOC diplomats are on TV. I think the whole city is watching. Command: Give me a second, I'm pulling up your video feed. Qadir: You come into my city, and think you can disrespect me? No. (shakes head) That's not how this goes. I reject all offers by your UN. You have no power here. First Demomancer: (frowns) I'm not quite sure you're aware of what you're saying. While I doubt this will escalate to military matters, I still have to– Qadir: (laughs) What, are you going to tell your blue helmets to observe my city? [The demomancers look surprised.] Faez: You have to tell them now! Command: I have forwarded all information to my Coalition contacts. They will contact the diplomats. Second Demomancer: Blue helmets? You know we're not the veiled part of the UN, right? You're speaking to Global Occult Coalition officials. Qadir: I don't care what kind of start-up you are, your five minutes are up. Get out of my office if you know what's good for you. First Demomancer: Are you really sure this is the course you want to take, Mr. Qadir? There is no reversing this. Qadir: (growls) And now you won't make it to the airport in one piece. Command: They can't reach them. Any agents in the city. Complete radio silence. First Demomancer: (sighs) Motion to move to the PHYSICS solution. Aye. Second and Third Demomancer: Aye. First Demomancer: Motion passes. [A bullet hits Qadir in the head. He is dead.] Faez: It's too late. [The lights go out.] The death of SCP-8530-A resulted in the immediate cessation of all logistical anomalies in the city. The underestimated power draw of the Moon caused a region-wide blackout. City-spanning riots started soon after with their epicentre in the Maladh Cinema Stadium and shifting towards the Spiral. Multiple anomalous individuals were seen to rise up throughout the city. Simultaneously KTE-5503 was seen stretching away from the city, closely followed by a figure wrapped in flame. This figure, SCP-designation pending, is assumed to be the former Captain Tirk. The figure emerged from a burning row of buildings, flying towards its target. KTE-5503 was impacted three times, each resulting in burning mirror shards falling towards the city followed by the angel reforming, before it could flee the scene completely. The riots were clustering into multiple emerging factions. With the Insurgent stopping his pursuit of Xi-13, all remaining MTF members were able to regroup together with the now reachable GOC agents. The employed demomancy and exit protocols made a full evacuation possible. Maladh has been reclassified as Nx-53. The city is considered lost to the Chaos Insurgency. Without 5 to guide me I after 5 5 is all around us ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8530" by Ethagon, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8530. 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: Maladh.png Author: Ethagon License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Derivative Of: Names: Approaching Dubai in a (mild) sand storm Author: Lars Plougmann License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: https://flickr.com/photos/criminalintent/3472005154 |
SCP-8541 | keter | close Info X SCP-8541 - Affordable Healthcare Actor, by PoufyPoufson ⚠️ Content warning: This article contains references to substance abuse and graphic depictions of violence and sexual abuse. ⚠️ content warning SCP-8541-A: Just dial this number, and ask for Jackson, I can guide you through the process of, hopefully, uh, enrolling in your medical plan with us. Item #: 8541 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8541 is currently contained within a 5-stage containment unit preventing complete contiguous contact with any sapient concepts. Further containment procedures to be determined. Description: SCP-8541 was discovered by Foundation surface agents following a contemporaneously prominent double-murder case in Spokane, Washington, USA, on 03-18-1979. The pre- and post-homicide circumstances suggested plausibly supernatural cause to local authorities, thus triggering Foundation intervention. Assessment of the crime scene by Foundation personnel justified SCP designation and subsequent acquisition. All involved extraveil individuals were amnesticized and released from custody. SCP-8541 is the designation for the sculpture "Head of Francis Bacon”1 popularly attributed to William Redgrave. A replica created by Redgrave is currently publicly displayed by the Fitzwilliam Museum, and is considered the original by extraveil consensus. SCP-8541 was in actuality, created by British model and burglar George Dyer2. Exposure to SCP-8541 is believed to trigger the manifestation of SCP-8541-A, an ontokinetic influence and/or entity revolving around and directed toward the specified individual. SCP-8541-A's ability to interact and/or exert physical force on its selected host appears to be reliant on physical vicinity to the host, or pseudoinfectious contact through a sentient intermediate. It is the official position of the Foundation that victims are chosen by SCP-8541 at random, and there are no clear indications that consideration is made by the sculpture of personality, biological characteristics, class, traits, personal history, or actions/behaviors from their past. Please come back Charlie, I still love you. After a review on 08-27-2000, a panel concluded SCP-8541 did not display sufficient signifiers of anomalous activity, and motioned for SCP-8541 and the homicide associated with its acquisition to be recategorized as Explained and appropriately jettisoned. Fiscal Relations Analyst Charles Torst submitted a formal request to move SCP-8541 into his personal ownership, with the primary reasoning being stated as an artistic interest in the object. The motion was approved after critical analysis of Torst's private sculpture collection. Post-Custodial: On 01-26-2007, Charles Torst began reporting unusual activity within his personal residence. A comprehensive chronological compilation has been included below3. 01-19-2007 x Close File Context: First incident. Consisted of what is colloquially described as a "Cold Call" from an obfuscated medical insurance company attempting to solicit Torst for enrollment. Anomalous activity was immediately apparent due to the call being received on a recently disconnected landline present in Torst's home. Caller: Hi, I hope you're having a wonderful day, Mr. Torst! I'm calling you as a representative from Weiss-Concord Medical, because, well, we see that you're eligible for some really, really, good plans, and we want to offer some thorough information on our benefits and coverage. For you, of course. Caller: I can imagine you're a busy man, maybe, so if you could give us a call back, I would really appreciate it, sir. Just dial this number, and ask for Jackson, I can guide you through the process of, hopefully, uh, enrolling in your medical plan with us. Caller: Oh, I forgot to mention too, uh, with you. I can see, now… Caller: What was it… premiums? Caller: Right! Mr. Torst, I can see what I can get you, but keep in mind we always have zero deductibles, so just, give me a call, and I can get back to you, or you can get back to me, so we can figure out the plan, and get you covered? Right, okay! Caller: Have a good call, I mean- goodnight! Caller: Sorry. Caller: I'll hang up now. Notes: Caller's voice identified as belonging to a male, possibly early 20s. Attempts to obtain information on Weiss-Concord Medical yielded no results. 01-20-2007 x Close File Context: Call received on Torst's cellphone. Torst did not answer, but did save the subsequent voicemail, which was included as part of his initial report. Caller: Hi, this is Jackson again, from uh, Weiss-Concord. Just wanted to remind you again to give us a dial, so we can discuss your rates, and enrollment and all that… If you're interested, that is, we try to provide the best customer service to you! I would like to speak with you, really I would, our insurance gives flexible coverage that might really help you out… Caller: Oh! Caller: I did call this number, I really do apologize for that, I didn't consider the times, and we still have a, uh, line- landline! Here at the office, I mean! Caller: We called the landline before, but I didn't think of that, the whole phasing out, whatever… uh, so I ended up finding your cell, Mr. Torst, and now I'm calling you now, in case it's better through cell, now, and we can set up a call, you can call me back, I mean, to discuss your options here at Weiss. Caller: And your cellphone. Sorry, I meant, well, they're a bit new, sort of. We can cover cancers or something, if they happen. Caller: Right, so give me a call when you can, we have your cellphone now, I can get your call when you call. Thank you so much! Caller: Have a great day! See? I got it right this time… Caller: Ok bye! Notes: Torst began experiencing onset of distress and paranoia at this point, and submitted an official complaint about the calls. The decision to open an official probe into his complaint was made after vehement deliberation with the final verdict reasoning that the degree of emotional response to the calls by Torst was anomalously disproportionate to the actual content. 01-26-2007 x Close File Context: Call received in Torst's home. Caller: Hi again, it's Jackson. Caller: Jackson, again. From Weiss-Concord Medical. Caller: Okay! Caller: Just giving a little reminder in case you missed that last call, to give me another call to call, I mean, uh- Talk back, talk to me… Okay! If you can call me back to discuss your options that would be good thank you okay bye. Sorry, and have a nice day. Caller: Sorry. Caller: Okay. Notes: Torst blocked the caller with approval from provisional diagnostic personnel. 01-30-2007 x Close File Context: Phone call via alternate number at a sit-down restaurant, one observing. Caller: Hey, Charles, just calling again, It's me, again, to remind you to call us back at Weiss about your insurance, medical insurance, plan, so we can enroll you! Please, you won't regret it, just pick up the phone, Charlie. Caller: I'm waiting for you to call me back. Caller: Have a good night. Notes: Significant distress, secondary exposure to one individual present. Number blocked. 02-05-2007 x Close File Context: Phone call received on cell phone, in Torst's kitchen. Caller: Pick up the fucking phone! Caller: Sorry, that was too- I'm here to help you out, I know what you need, we got from you what we need to know for the plan. I can help make it so easy to enroll in, uh, Weiss-Concord's great plans. Charlie, really, it's so easy! Just pick up, don't make me go too f- Caller: Sorry, I didn't mean… I lost a bit of- I can do it, I can handle it. Call me? Caller: Please? Caller: It's easy, you just have to pick up the phone. Caller: I'm here. Notes: Torst was preparing his dinner on a gas stove prior to and during the call. Approximately halfway through the message, the lit burner experience sudden excess combustion, resulting in a large flame directed primarily towards Torst, who suffered minor burns. In addition, a large telekinetic influence violently displaced the contents of the nearby cabinet & drawer. Notably, containers flung were also opened, such as supplies of Ursodiol, Fursomide, and Valproic Acid. Torst experienced significant mental distress from this, subsequently motioning to have his longterm therapist move in to provide sustained at-home care. 02-14-2007 x Close File Context: Following the kitchen call, Torst had elected to encase his cell phone within a 5 gallon bucket of concrete, and cancel service. Torst's therapist, Jennifer Sly, agreed to at-home treatment, which concluded after a 3-day supervisory period, due to improvement in condition. Caller: Happy Valentine's Day! I bet you think you were so, so, terribly clever? You can't get rid of me like that again! Caller: I won't make it easy, not again, no… Weiss-Concord, Weiss-Concord, Weiss-Concord… how can you say no to no deductible! Caller: You're a sick man Charlie, I know you need my coverage more than you don't… Why then, why don't you ever pick up? Don't you see what it does to me? I'm waiting on you to answer, Mr. Torst. I can do it for you here, you just have to talk… see how many chances I give you? Caller: I know you can see me here, Charlie. Caller: Staring at the room. Screaming at the television. Never thought you'd have to see this face, right? So look into my eyes, and see what's there. Please. Caller: Why don't you fucking answer? You can talk, can't you? Caller: Talk! Caller: I may be rough around the edges, but these are eyes you can trust. I'm sorry for doing that, please understand… You're just- Caller: I only want to help you, sir. So just call. I'm the best friend you'll ever have. Caller: Answer me! Caller: I'm sorry- I just… You're on borrowed time, Charlie. You know it, I know it. It'll come for you eventually. Caller: Weiss-Concord Medical can give you what you need. Caller: It has to be me. Caller: Please? Notes: Notable for being the first instance of communication to not manifest via phone call. The aforementioned caller self-identifying as Jackson appeared juxtaposed with a bleached background of unclear content; Subject is a young adult male, with blonde hair, and grey eyes. No other identifying features are present in the broadcast. Torst became extremely distressed upon seeing the transmission, and experienced a severe panic attack. Shortly after the start of the broadcast, Torst was violently assaulted by an unseen telekinetic influence; The pattern and timing of the blunt force broadly correlated to linguistic and contextual cues in the speech exhibited by "Jackson", now referred to in standard documentation as SCP-8541-A. Following the conclusion of the broadcast, Torst had suffered extensive injury that prevented immediate mobility, and slept on his kitchen floor where he had originally viewed the broadcast. Foundation personnel were not alerted to his condition until the next morning, when Torst called to report the injury. Following arrival and triage, Torst became highly aggressive and erratic upon being informed that he would need to be admitted to a hospital for further medical attention, informing personnel that he "Cannot leave his house, or it'll get worse." After careful deliberation, the decision was made to provide medical attention onsite, at Torst's residence. At the time, SCP-8541 had not yet been identified as the source of the phenomenon. 02-27-2007 x Close File Context: Torst had been recovering from injuries sustained from the previous call. Two days prior it had been theorized, with reasonable doubt, that SCP-8541 was the most likely cause of the phenomenon. Researchers discovered that ideas of reference and electronics-focused delusions had been clinically significant in the perpetrator of the original 1979 Spokane Homicide's criminal evaluation, which diagnosed him with unspecifiied schizophrenia. SCP-8541 was confiscated from Torst's collection and placed into containment. Upon attempting to transport SCP-8541, personnel reported feeling an unusual paranormal resistance when leaving the boundaries of Torst's property, however they were ultimately successful in transporting SCP-8541 offsite. Since being placed into containment, SCP-8541 has begun performing rhythmic, repetitive movements, rocking back and forth. Cross-analysis indicates the rocking roughly corresponds to the half-time of Charles Torst's heart rate as measured in BPM. Call received through the stereo system in Torst's converted clinic. Caller: Just. Fucking. Answer. Me. Caller: I don't ask for much. I don't ask for much. Caller: I have what you need, don't do it again. Caller: Just come back and call me, Charlie. Notes: Torst and attending nurse witnessed the spontaneous and violent manifestation of numerous scratches on the walls of the occupied room. Scratches were deep, causing significant damage, but otherwise superficially resembled the marks of bear claws. In addition, of particular note was a section that specifically etched out "Do the right thing" followed by a phone number4. Jennifer Sly was again brought onsite to treat the resulting hysteria. 03-01-2007 x Close File Context: Occurred on Torst's television. Jennifer Sly, while present, was in Torst's bathroom taking a shower, and did not witness the incident, and so was unable to verify the segments of Torst's speech that were unclear. Caller: What is it going to take to get you to talk? Do I need to be like her? I can listen when I'm not calling, all the shit you spew to her? But you can't find time for me? Torst: [DATA EXPUNGED] Caller: Was that all it took? Really? You're that scared? She's who's gonna get you on my plan? Of course I heard everything you tell her… every little thing! Like how you're better now, and over it… and so she doesn't really know why we're the only insurance company actively trying to get you on… why do you hide it? Torst: [DATA EXPUNGED] Caller: How are you playing the victim when I'm just trying to- Caller: You know what, fuck that. Listen, we're gonna give you, say, a 230 premium, and then obviously, uh, no deductible. Please really consider it, you need this. Torst: [DATA EXPUNGED] Caller: Shut up about it! I don't want any of that- I'm… I'm doing this for your own good! You're fucking sick, Charlie. Dying, and won't tell anyone. Torst: [DATA EXPUNGED?] Caller: Is that because you're embarrassed? Nobody has to know about your treatment plan. Nobody. Torst: [DATA EXPUNGED] Caller: I would never- we would never pull out like that, Charlie. We have confidentiality here at Weiss. Just please, don't fucking ignore me. It's killing me. Caller: It's killing you, too. Torst: [DATA EXPUNGED] Caller: No, that's not gonna make it ever go away… You'd have to be an idiot to think that. Are you an idiot, Mr. Torst? I don't associate with idiots, and I do really like you, that's why I'm doing this. To help you. Because we, Weiss-Concord Medical, we really do want to help people like you get better… but that right there- that doesn't make it go away, does it? Torst: [DATA EXPUNGED] Caller: Maybe, but it didn't stop me from calling you. And it's not gonna stop me from calling you again. It's your decision, sir. But make the right choice, and choose me. Caller: Please. Caller: I'll be good for you. Notes: Jennifer Sly abruptly left her shower upon hearing a loud scream from Torst. She arrived to find him convulsing and having vomited a large quantity of blood resulting from gastrointestinal hemorrhaging. Torst had also begun filing requests to have SCP-8541's object class restored to Explained, claiming "this kind of thing is supposed to happen to people like me" and "it's a natural occurrence, not an anomaly". 03-13-2007 x Close File Context: Torst had been receiving in depth medical treatment from a team of outside specialists. At the time, the contagious nature of transmission regarding SCP-8541-A's influence was not known. Caller: Charlie, Charlie. It hurts to see you like this… they've got some good care on you, but not as good as what we can do for you, I can do for you, at Weiss-Concord. I mean it. Though, here and there both have leagues above what you got working at Steiner, huh? I mean, uh, gosh. Wow, sorry. I got a little uh. You didn't have much then, right. Says here, you paid, uh. Let's see… 320 a month, on medical. Wow. Must've been something in teaching that kept you in it… Torst: [DATA EXPUNGED] Caller: Maybe you don't remember after all. Wasn't a fan of the people? I'd turn to the bottle too if I was you… but look where it got you, eh? You wanna really do something good for yourself. Enroll, pick me. Choose me. Torst: [DATA EXPUNGED] Caller: Charlie. Look at me. Torst: [DATA EXPUNGED] Caller: I don't care about any of that. I am the best deal you have on the table, ever had. Please pick me. Torst: [DATA EXPUNGED] Caller: No, no, no, you don't understand how untrue that is. With the way things are going, and all that damage, I'm the only option a fucker like you is gonna have for coverage- Torst: [DATA EXPUNGED] Caller: Just- think about it, please. Charlie please. We need you here. I need you here. Caller: Sorry, that was- Caller: I'll leave you alone. Notes: Torst suffered further physical trauma during the call, which occurred through the phone of one of the attending SCP-8541 researchers. Torst's medical condition began to rapidly decay in the following 24 hours, culminating in the first of his kidney failures. 05-19-2007 x Close File Context: In the week following the previous transmission, it was hypothesized through analysis of past incidents that SCP-8541-A's influence was contingent on having had physical contact with SCP-8541. In response, containment measures were instituted restricting access to Torst's care unit for anyone aside from Torst. Aforementioned measures had resulted in an abrupt cessation of incidents. In combination with injuries sustained from SCP-8541-A, Torst’s health has continued to decline, resulting in a significant loss of mobility and quality of life since the previous incident. Caller: I've always thought for a long time what I would say to you if I ever got another chance, Charlie. Maybe none of this makes sense to you and I'm wrong. I'm just an insurance salesman at Weiss-Concord Medical… a scammer who needed to make money to buy a bag at the end of the week. Do you remember me, Charlie? Do you remember Tamarac? Kayaking at Topeekeegee? I can never understand how you could tell I secretly liked guys, too. Caller: I didn't know that I was the one, to you then. Do you even remember that night? I've always wondered, screaming, loud, loud, loud, loud, loud like a baby in my head, every night, every night when I'm alone in my unwashed bedsheets and cockroach-laden bedroom, I wonder, I really fucking wonder, if you remember, if you think about it as much as I do. I tell myself when I start getting too fucking out of control, I tell myself that you couldn't remember, because you were blackout drunk, you were too drunk, too drunk. Caller: Do alcoholics black out, Charlie? I don't know if they do, so I can't ever really be sure. I want so badly to know if you remember. If maybe you weren't as drunk as you said you were after, if you keep drinking and drinking because you do remember. That's why you won't tell her you relapsed. Maybe that's why you've never told her either. Caller: But do you know what I think sometimes? Maybe you do remember. Maybe you do remember telling me you love me. Maybe you do remember seeing my cover of a girlfriend passed out on the floor because she mixed the wrong shit. Maybe you do remember me saying no. Maybe you do remember throwing yourself on me. Maybe you do remember taking my clothes off even as I screamed for Alyssa to wake up. Maybe you do remember me saying No repeatedly. Maybe you do remember me realizing Alyssa was flatlined and nobody was gonna be around to stop you from pulling down my jeans. Maybe you do remember taking my belt off and tying it around my neck because you said I sounded cute when I was choking. Maybe you do remember ripping off my boxers that were wet with piss because I thought you were gonna murder me. Maybe you do remember the sound of my first cry when you smacked me in the backside with your rings on. Maybe you do remember what it looked like when my skin started breaking and bleeding because of how hard you did it. Maybe you do remember punching me in the jaw because I couldn't get hard for you. Maybe you do remember shoving me on the couch and forcing me to bend down. Maybe you do remember using a fucking bottle of Patrón for it. Maybe you do remember how I sounded. Maybe you do remember me begging you not to kill me. Maybe you do remember me trying to get away, only for you to beat me down and keep going. Maybe you do remember finishing with me and leaving without ever saying anything. Caller: Or maybe you don't. And you really were blackout drunk and had no idea what you were doing. Caller: But I remember, Charlie. I remember every single day, every night. I remember when I look in the mirror, when I kiss a girl, when I take a shower, when I sleep. I remember. I'm gonna kill myself before 30 and you got to finish your degree and get your retirement and big house. Caller: And you know what the worst part is? Caller: I still feel like I can't live without you. Caller: Goodbye, Charlie. Notes: Torst suffered abrupt cardiac arrest during the transmission, but was stabilized by onsite medical staff. It was discovered that one of the staff had previously come into contact with SCP-8541 unknowingly, triggering the incident. Containment measures have been implemented much more stringently accordingly, to prevent future incidents from potentially resulting in the death of Charles Torst. Summary: Following these events, SCP-8541 has been reclassified as Keter. In addition, any personnel known to have come into contact with SCP-8541 are prohibited from entering Torst's designated care unit.5 Forever yours, Forever trained. More From This Author More From This Author PoufyPoufson's Works SCPs SCP-7151 • SCP-8031 • SCP-7471 • SCP-8332 • Poufy's Proposal • SPHERE • SCP-7783 • SCP-8010 • SCP-8465 • SCP-7811 • SCP-8105 • SCP-7541 • SCP-7419 • SCP-7575 • SCP-6541 • Tales/GoI Formats Other Fear of Death • SCP-POUF • Footnotes 1. Named after the 20th-century Irish born British painter. 2. Domestic partner of Francis Bacon from 1963 until Dyer’s death in 1971. 3. A request made by Charles Torst to expunge his statements from the official record of SCP-8541 was granted on 05-25-2018. 4. Expunged per Torst. 5. The Foundation granted full coverage of long term research & palliative medical care of Torst pertaining to non-anomalous relevant organ failure. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8541" by PoufyPoufson, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8541. 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-8550 | keter | How do you deal with an anomalous virus that degrades you on an atomic level and is so contagious that just a touch transfers it? Like this… close Info X SCP-8550: Microbial Murder Author: FreezerMonkey ⚠️ Content warning: This article contains descriptions of bodily disfigurement and death which may be disturbing to some. ⚠️ content warning By Order of Site Director Harvey The following file is classified under Level 4/8550 Clearance. Unauthorized access will be punished. 8550 ITEM #: SCP-8550 LEVEL- CONTAINMENT CLASS: KETER DISRUPTION CLASS: EKHI Assigned Site Site-09 Site Director Anna Harvey Research Head Dr. Hartley Graham Assigned MTF Chi-7 ITEM: SCP-8550 LEVEL- CONTAINMENT CLASS: KETER DISRUPTION CLASS: EKHI Assigned Site Site-09 Site Director Anna Harvey Research Head Dr. Hartley Graham Assigned MTF Chi-7 Special Containment Procedures: Mobile Task Force Chi-7 (“Plague Tamers”) is to make all efforts to locate and capture reported instances of SCP-8550-2. Infected individuals are to be quarantined in a sealed standard humanoid containment cell, and immolated upon cessation of life signs. Any site personnel showcasing typical symptoms of early-stage infection are to be reported to Dr. Graham as soon as possible. When interacting with SCP-8550-2 instances, a grade 3 hazmat suit must be worn at all times. Equipment is to be inspected daily for holes, or any other possible means of entry for infection. Should a hole be torn in a hazmat suit while interacting with SCP-8550-2 instances, affected personnel are to leave the area immediately, and submit themselves for quarantine. Description: SCP-8550 is composed of three constituent parts. SCP-8550 refers to the theoretical cause of SCP-8550. Proposed by Research Head Dr. Graham, it suggests that there's a sentient entity at the heart of SCP-8550-1. Further research into the validity of this proposal is ongoing. SCP-8550-1 refers to an anomalously altered circovirus. These alterations have granted it status as a new species, hereby designated Circovirus minimafrange. C. minimafrange appears to be extremely small, only about 0.8 nanometers across. SCP-8550 has displayed several odd traits, such as random periods of inactivity, despite possible hosts being nearby. SCP-8550 has also displayed the ability to lay dormant for a period of up to 3 days, which would help transmit it. The only currently known way to destroy SCP-8550-1 permanently within an area is immolation. SCP-8550-1 refers to a process by which people slowly degrade on an atomic level. The amount of time this process takes varies, ranging from 3 to 24 hours. However, it has been universally observed to be extremely painful to the subject. There are no currently known ways of reversing the process once it has started. A document detailing typical symptoms and stages has been attached below. SCP-8550-2 refers to individuals and objects infected with SCP-8550. They are extremely contagious, with even a touch allowing for communication of the disease. Failure to contain SCP-8550 could lead to a DK-Class "Infected Earth" Scenario1. Discovery: SCP-8550 was discovered on 17/02/22 when Foundation spies embedded within several hospitals across the United States started sending in reports of deaths caused by spontaneous degradation of the body's structure. SCP-8550 was officially designated as such soon after. Addendum 8550.1: SCP-8550-2 Interview VIDEO LOG DATE: 19/02/22 NOTE: The following log details an interview between Researcher Richards, from the Department of Microbiology, and James Howe2, an individual recently afflicted with SCP-8550, conducted at Site-10 The interview was conducted before anyone was aware of how contagious SCP-8550 was. [BEGIN LOG] James Howe is sat down in a detainment cell. Researcher Richards enters and sits down opposite them. Researcher Richards: Good evening, SCP-8550-2-1. Howe: Where am I? And why does everyone keep calling me that? My name is James. James Howe. Researcher Richards: We're aware of your real identity. Howe: When can I go home? Researcher Richards: I'm afraid that's not possible. Howe: I want to go home! I'm not saying anything unless I can go home! Researcher Richards sighs. Researcher Richards: Will you tell me what I want to know if I promise to let you go after? Howe: And I want you to call me by my real name, not that stupid number. Researcher Richards: Very well. You have my word. Researcher Richards: Now, why don't you explain to me what you've been feeling? Physical symptoms, that is. Howe: Pain. It's in my legs and chest, mostly. Hurts like crazy. It's almost like someone's taking me apart bit by bit. I also ran my hand through my hair the other day when I was showering, and half of it came off. James Howe shudders. Howe: That's when I went to the hospital, where you guys kidnapped me. Researcher Richards: We didn't… whatever. When did you start feeling all these symptoms? Howe: About two days ago. Researcher Richards: Very well. Guards, you can take him to his cell. Howe: What?! You promised I could go home! Researcher Richards: That's not up to me. Howe: You bastard! You'll regret this! Researcher Richards: This interview is concluded. [END LOG] Closing Statement: Approximately six hours after the conclusion of this interview, SCP-8550-2-1 collapsed, in apparent agony. Medics sent in discovered it on the floor, seemingly shedding all their skin and muscles at a rapid rate. At roughly the same time, Researcher Richards and the guards involved in SCP-8550-2-1's interview also began displaying typical symptoms of SCP-8550. Contact with the site was lost soon after and the onsite nuclear warhead was detonated remotely. Addendum 8550.1: SCP-8550 Typical Symptoms Stage Symptoms Stage 1 Excessive itching, particularly in the chest and thigh areas, theorized to be SCP-8550-3 targeting the areas of most mass. This stage typically lasts for 36 hours Stage 2 Subjects begin to feel periods of immense pain, particularly in the chest and thigh regions. Over a period of 24 hours, this pain will begin to spread to other parts of the body. Hair loss is also typical. Stage 3 Over the course of four to six hours, the subject will begin to rapidly shed skin, muscle, and other parts of the body. This causes immense pain and distress to the subject, typically causing them to collapse, unable to function properly. Stage 4 Bodily fluids such as blood will start leaking out of orifices such as the eyes and ears. Coma's are also expected. Stage 5 Vital organs like the heart, brain, and lungs begin degradation. Death follows shortly after. Stage 6 The bodies will continue to degrade leaving no signs behind. This typically contaminates the area. Addendum 8550.3: Site Director Patterson's Meeting with Dr. Graham VIDEO LOG DATE: 22/02/22 NOTE: This log was recorded in Biological Site-234. It details a discussion between Dr. Hartley Graham and Site Director Patterson. [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Graham enters the room and sits down opposite Site Director Harvey. Site Director Patterson: Good evening, Dr. Graham. Dr. Graham: Good evening. Site Director Patterson: I imagine you're curious why I called you here. Dr. Graham: A… a bit, yeah. Site Director Patterson: I'm sure you've heard about SCP-8550 by now. Dr. Graham: I have, yes. Site Director Patterson: Excellent. I'm transferring you to that project as the research head. Dr. Graham's eyes widen. Dr. Graham: Me?! Why? Site Director Patterson: You're the most experienced doctor available right now. Dr. Graham: Really? Site Director Patterson: Yes. The other candidates are tied up with other things right now. That leaves you. Dr. Graham: Surely there's someone - Site Director Patterson holds up his hand, silencing Dr. Graham. Site Director Patterson: There isn't. Believe, me I don't like the idea either. I'd rather not transfer my best doctor to the site studying some highly volatile phenomenon that very painfully kills you. But alas, I do not have a choice. And neither do you. Dr. Graham: There's always a choice, isn't there? Site Director Patterson: Not in our line of work. You do not have a choice in whether or not you go. The only choice you do have is whether or not you go willingly. I wish it were otherwise, but it's not. So, what will it be? Dr. Graham hesitates before answering. Dr. Graham: Very well. I'll go willingly. Site Director Patterson: Excellent. Then that means this meeting is adjourned. [END LOG] Closing Statement: Dr. Graham was transferred to Biological Site-09 shortly after. Addendum 8550.4: Site Director Patterson's email to Dr. Graham Access SCiPNET Email? One (1) new message! Re:SITE TRANSFER To: DR.GRAHAM From: SITE DIRECTOR PATTERSON Subject: SITE TRANSFER - 23/02/22 I am pleased to hear that you're settling in at Site-09. How have the local staff been treating you? And by the way, Site Director Harvey wants to see you tomorrow at 11:00 AM sharp, just for a short meeting. He will be watching the project, and, as I've asked, he'll be sending progress reports back to me. Perhaps you can get that promotion you wanted if this goes well. To: SITE DIRECTOR PATTERSON From: DR. GRAHAM Subject: Re:SITE TRANSFER - 23/02/22 Hello The staff have been treating me fine. It's nothing overly welcoming, nor overly hostile. So I guess I'm pleased myself with that. And I'll make sure to remember that meeting. Thank you for letting me know. Addendum 8550.5: Dr. Graham's Meeting with Site Director Harvey VIDEO LOG DATE: 24/02/22 NOTE: The following log details Dr. Graham's meeting with Site Director Harvey. [BEGIN LOG] At 11:00 AM, Dr. Graham enters Site Director Harvey's office. Site Director Harvey: Ah, Dr. Graham. Our new transfer. Please, sit. Dr. Graham sits opposite Site Director Harvey. Site Director Harvey: I must say, you came very highly recommended by your previous Site Director. I'm impressed. We don't get that often. Dr. Graham inclines her head. Site Director Harvey: Right. Let's get down to business. I have prepared a document for you with everything we know about SCP-8550. And do be careful. I'd rather not lose such a valued researcher. Dr. Graham: I'll do my best ma'am. Site Director Harvey: Good. Oh, and I'd suggest introducing yourself to your new team before the end of the day. That'll be all. Closing Statement: N/A [END LOG] Addendum 8550.6: Dr. Graham's Meeting With Site-09 Staff VIDEO LOG DATE: 24/02/22 NOTE: The following log details Dr. Grahams first interaction with the SCP-8550 research personnel. [BEGIN LOG] Dr. Graham enters the room. The personnel present quickly quiet down. Dr. Graham: Um, hello, everyone. In case you're unaware, my name is Dr. Hartley Graham. I was recently transferred in from Site-234 as the new project head. Sr. Researcher Allen: Hi. I'm Russel Allen, and I'm one of the senior researchers here. Sr. Researcher Hanson: My name's Annabelle Hanson, and I'm also a senior researcher. Researcher Williams: My name's Duncan Williams, and I'm just a regular researcher, which, frankly, suits me much better than being a senior researcher. Containment Specialist O'Reilly: I'm Adam O'Reilly, and I'm unfortunately the containment specialist who was assigned to SCP-8550. Sr. Researcher Allen: What do you mean, unfortunately? Do we all suck that much? Containment Specialist O'Reilly: Hate germs. Always have. Give me the shivers. Researcher Williams: I know what I'm dressing up as for Halloween. Dr. Graham: Guys, can we get back on topic? Sr. Researcher Allen: Right. Sorry. Security Officer Chance: I'm Robert Chance and I'm a security officer for the site. The, uh, rest of my guys are off somewhere else, so you'll get to meet a couple later. Well, I'd hope so. You never know, with all the anomalous microbes we have around. Dr. Graham: Well, thanks for the introduction. I'll let you get back to what you were doing for a couple hours. Closing Statement: Shortly after this introduction, a case of SCP-8550 infection was reported and MTF Chi-7 was mobilized. [END LOG] Addendum 8550.7: MTF Chi-7's Mobilization Mobilization Video Log Transcript Notes: The following log details MTF Chi-7's response to reports of an infected individual spotted in nearby Cape May, New Jersey. Date: 24/02/22 Responding Team: MTF Chi-7 Subject: SCP-8550 Mission Command: Dr. Graham Team Lead: Squad Captain Hadyen Team Members: Corporal Blackwell, Corporal Jansen, Corporal Meadows [BEGIN LOG] The response helicopter touches down and Chi-7 quickly exits. Dr. Graham: Alright, listen up. The entire town has been put under lockdown under threat of a cholera outbreak. But that ruse won't hold everyone up forever. So get in, get out, and make sure your hazmat suits are not breached. Understood? Squad Captain Hayden: Understood. Dr. Graham: And another thing. I want at least one infected taken in alive for study, yes? Squad Captain Hayden: Consider it done. Squad, let's go. Chi-7 begins sweeping the streets for signs of nearby infected, before reaching the Lower Cape May Regional High School. Signs of human presence are noted. Squad Captain Hayden: Entering the high school area now. There's signs that someone's been around in the last hour. Dr. Graham: The school's closed today. There shouldn't be anyone there. Enter the school, but be careful. Sick people are desperate people. Squad Captain Hayden: Copy. Squad, spread out. Chi-7 enters the school and carefully begins sweeping each room. Corporal Jansen's bodycam picks something up. Dr. Graham: Jansen, to your right. Keep going… and stop! On the floor are several long strands of hair. Cpl. Jansen: Captain! Got something. Squad Captain Hayden rushes over. Cpl. Jansen: Hair. Looks human. Before Squad Captain Hayden replies, another member of Chi-7 calls out. Cpl. Blackwell: Got blood! It's fresh! Dr. Graham: The subject has likely just entered stage 4. Find them! Quickly! Cpl. Meadows: No need. I found them. Corporal Meadows bodycam shows a human figure huddled under a table, clearly in pain. Despite this, the subject doesn't make a sound, presumed to be due to constriction of the vocal cords. Dr. Graham: Thank god. Take them and get out of there. We'll figure out what to do with the school later. Just don't let them bleed anymore on the floor. Squad Captain Hayden: Copy that command. Prep the helicopter. We're on our way. [END LOG] Closing Statement: The subject, later identified as 23 year old Elaine Page, was successfully recovered with no further complications. Addendum 8550.8: Attempted Interview of SCP-8550-2-2 VIDEO LOG DATE: 24/02/22 NOTE: The following log was recorded in a sealed medical chamber holding the SCP-8550-2 instance recovered from Cape May. [BEGIN LOG] A small argument can be heard outside the room, determined to be between Dr. Graham and an unknown doctor. Doctor: Ma'am, I must insist you don't go in there. Dr. Graham: I'm going in one way or another. Doctor: There's a very distinct possibility that you get infected with this thing. I don't think you understand how contagious it is. Dr. Graham: Then give me one of those suits you have on. I'm going in. Understood? Doctor: But - Unknown3: Let her in. And give her a suit. Doctor: I - very well. A few minutes pass before the doors open and Dr. Graham enters, who approaches SCP-8550-2-2 and kneels down. Dr. Graham: Can you hear me SCP-8550-2-2? A minute passes with no conversation. Dr. Graham: SCP-8550-2-2? Another few seconds pass before SCP-8550-2-2 speaks in a raspy, whispered voice. SCP-8550-2-2: Hurts. Dr. Graham: I know. But I need to ask you a few questions so I can make sure you get better. SCP-8550-2-2: Home. Dr. Graham: I'm sorry, but I can't do that. You don't want to get others sick, do you? SCP-8550-2-2: No. Dr. Graham: That's why I can't let you go until you get better. But I do need your help in preventing anyone else from getting sick. Can you do that? SCP-8550-2-2: Yes. Dr. Graham: I need to know, have you interacted with anyone who seemed sick in the past 3 weeks? SCP-8550-2-2 collapses into a coughing fit for a few seconds before answering. SCP-8550-2-2: Yes. Dr. Graham: Where was that? SCP-8550-2-2 has another coughing fit, and blood starts leaking out its ears. SCP-8550-2-2: Home. Husband sick. Talking crazy. Said… said he worked for Founda…dation. Didn't believe. Believe now. Dr. Graham: SCP-8550-2-2? Elaine? Following this, SCP-8550-2-2 appeared to fall into a vegetative state. [END LOG] Closing Statement: SCP-8550-2-2 has remained unresponsive since the interview. Addendum 8550.9: SCP-8550 Discussion VIDEO LOG DATE: 24/02/22 NOTE: The following meeting took place immediately following Dr. Grahams interview with SCP-8550-2-2 [BEGIN LOG] A series of indistinct conversations can be heard. Dr. Graham: Alright everyone, settle down please. Everyone! The noise settles down. Dr. Graham: Thank you. Jesus, it's like working with a pack of starving hyenas. Anyway, yes, you heard correctly. I conducted an interview with a stage 4 infected. Containment Specialist O'Reilly: Do you have any idea how foolish that was? I mean, this is a disease so contagious that - Dr. Graham: That a single touch can infect you? Yes. I'm perfectly aware of that fact. Sr. Researcher Allen: Then why take such a huge risk? You're far too valuable to risk losing. Dr. Graham: Perhaps, but it was also a necessary risk. Sr. Researcher Allen: Then why not let one of us do it? Dr. Graham: Because I was available. Researcher Williams attempts to speak before Dr. Graham interrupts. Dr. Graham: Look, we're not going to get any information about SCP-8550 by skirting around it like frightened children. I did it, it's done, and I'm fine. So can we move on? Security Officer Chance: Please do. Dr. Graham: What I did learn was extremely valuable. It appears that one or more individuals may have escaped the destruction of Site-10. As we speak, a sub-division of MTF Chi-7 is hunting these individuals. Sr. Researcher Hanson: Good. Then we can finally end this. Dr. Graham: However, as valuable as that information may have been, it does not help us end this infection. What we need is a closer look. Sr. Researcher Allen: What are you saying? Dr. Graham: Let me put it this way. Have either of you seen the ending of Men in Black, the first one? [END LOG] Closing Statement: Preparations for an excursion into SCP-8550 territory began shortly following this meeting. Addendum 8550.10: SCP-8550 Entry Attempt Preparation VIDEO LOG Date: 24/02/22 NOTE: The following log details MTF Chi-7's preparation for entry into SCP-8550. [BEGIN LOG] MTF Chi-7 can be seen strapping on several strange looking machines. Cpl. Meadows: So let me get this straight. You're strapping experimental tech onto us with names we've never heard of. Dr. Graham: Correct. Cpl. Jansen: Then you're sending us through an experimental Way you generated. Dr. Graham: Indeed. Cpl. Blackwell: And then you're going to send us into an atom, and just hope something is there? Sr. Researcher Allen: Our research suggests there is. So yes. Cpl. Meadows: And this also happens to be inside the body of a person infected with a highly contagious disease that has a 100% fatality rate? Dr. Graham: You missed a couple parts, but essentially, yes. Cpl. Jansen: And you're sure this is safe. Sr. Researcher Hanson: Mostly. Cpl. Meadows: What does that even - Squad Captain Hayden: Can you just be quiet please? I have a headache already. Cpl. Jansen: Look, can't we just, I don't know, shrink there or something? It's an atom, right? Researcher Williams: This isn't Ant-Man. You can't get to another universe by shrinking into it anymore than you can reach another universe by speed-walking. The only way for normal people like us to reach said universes is through the use of Way's or some other form of anomalous transportation. Cpl. Blackwell: Can you at least tell us if we'll live. Dr. Graham: 90% sure. Cpl. Meadows: Wait, what? Sr. Researcher Hanson: Oh, and one more thing to keep in mind. Time is going to move a lot differently down there, simply because you'll be in another universe. So we'll be out of most forms of contact. Just try and stay alive. And if you need to come back, press this. Senior Researcher Hanson hands Squad Captain Hayden a device. Sr. Researcher Hanson: This is the one device we have that we've found can reliably reach other universes with its signal. Good luck. All the researchers leave the room. [END LOG] Closing Statement: Shortly after the room was emptied of researchers, there was a flash of light, presumed to be Way being activated and Chi-7 entering it. Exploration Video Log Transcript Notes: The following log was recorded by the bodycams placed on MTF Chi-7's outfits upon entry into SCP-8550. Date: 24/02/22 Responding Team: MTF Chi-7 Subject: SCP-8550 Mission Command: N/A Team Lead: Squad Captain Hadyen Team Members: Corporal Blackwell, Corporal Jansen, Corporal Meadows [BEGIN LOG] The camera opens up on what appears to be some sort of city, though not one of Earth. Cpl. Blackwell: Holy shit. Cpl. Jansen: Graham was right, it would seem. Squad Captain Hayden: Indeed. Alright, mission report. From what I can tell, we've been "teleported" into some sort of city. However the structure here is… baffling at best. Cpl. Meadows: The geometry is all off. It's like this entire universe runs off of some form of geometry I've never seen before. I'm not sure what to make of it. What I can see is that it looks… Squad Captain Hayden: Dead. Or dying. I don't see any living things around. Cpl. Jansen: It's kind of freaky. Squad Captain Hayden: Alright, let's move. See if we can find anything. Chi-7 begins rapidly sweeping the streets, until they come across a vaguely familiar building, despite the vast differences in geometrical structure. Cpl. Jansen: Is that… Cpl. Blackwell: Yeah. That's Site-09. Squad Captain Hayden: For the record, it appears that this universe had its own Foundation as well. Let's go. Perhaps we can find something about SCP-8550 in here. Cpl. Blackwell: Are we sure that's a good idea? I'd be willing to bet the geometry in there is just as confusing as it is out here. And I'd rather not knock over a jar of… atomic smallpox, and die. Squad Captain Hayden looks at Corporal Blackwell sternly. Cpl. Blackwell: You know what, fair enough. Onwards, I say. Chi-7 enters the building and begins to navigate through, despite the inherent difficulties present, and successfully reach where SCP-8550 research chamber is on Earth. Squad Captain Hayden: Hm. Important to note. Despite the differences in geometry between here and Earth, computers appear to be able to be used just like our computers, albeit with some visual changes. Meadows, see if you can get in. Cpl. Meadows: I dunno. Might as well try the same password as usual. Oh, it works. That's… oddly disconcerting. And here's SCP-8550 file. The file has been transcribed below, though most of it was illegible due to the state of the computer. Item #: SCP-8550 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8550 is to have a blood sacrifice every day at noon. This sacrifice is to be public. No further containment procedures necessary. Description: SCP-8550 is an Apex Tier Pluripotent Entity currently existing beyond this reality. [OBSCURED] has been known to enter other universes, inevitably leading to [OBSCURED] Evidence suggests that this has happened to octillions of other universes. [OBSCURED] all efforts [OBSCURED] diverted [OBSCURED] [OBSCURED]. The file soon became illegible due to several issues with software and dirt. Cpl. Jansen: Well that raises several implications for our reality. Squad Captain Hayden: Download the file, but quickly. Several minutes pass before the file finishes download. Cpl. Meadows: Done. Now can we get out of here? Cpl. Blackwell: And, uh, can we do it fast? Corporal Blackwell points at the sun, which is in the process of turning black. The city Chi-7 arrived in also begins to flake and vanish, presumed to be a result of SCP-8550-3 arriving. Squad Captain Hayden: Oh shit. The flaking effect begins to spread at a rapid pace towards Chi-7, who escape via the device given to Squad Captain Hayden by Dr. Graham. [END LOG] Closing Statement: MTF Chi-7 reappeared in the testing chamber 3 minutes after they left, physically unharmed. All data was collected and screened for memetic hazards, before being viewed. All necessary biohazard protocols were enacted upon Chi-7. Addendum 8550.11: SCP-8550 Data Discussion VIDEO LOG DATE: 24/02/22 NOTE: The following log details a discussion of the data recovered by MTF Chi-7 following their arrival back on Earth. [BEGIN LOG] All members of the SCP-8550 project team are seated in a circle with documents in front of them. Researcher Williams: Why don't I start and say that that sucked. Sr. Researcher Allen: Why? We still learned valuable information, even if it isn't necessarily going to help us contain SCP-8550 more effectively, or cure it even. Researcher Williams: And that's the point. This info is useless to our containment efforts. I'm beginning to think that - Dr. Graham: Peace, Duncan. Researcher Williams: Yes, my apologies. But regardless, my point stands. We did not learn anything beyond the fact that gods may be germs. Containment Specialist O'Reilly: Perhaps it doesn't bring us closer to curing this. But that doesn't make the information useless. Researcher Williams attempts to talk before Security Officer Chance enters the room. Security Officer Chance: SCP-8550-2-2 is dead. Dr. Graham: I wish it hadn't had to happen that way. Researcher Williams: And that just proves my point. What has this little excursion of ours shown? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. We are no closer to curing this disease than we are to changing species 100% reliably. Senior Researcher Hanson snorts Sr. Researcher Hanson: We're closer to that than you might think. Dr. Graham: Wait, what was that? Sr. Researcher Hanson: What, that we're closer to being able to change species than Williams thinks? Dr. Graham laughs. Dr. Graham: That's how we'll deal with it. Alter the atomic structure of humanity! This is a virus that breaks down atoms, so we'll teach the body how to build them back up, allowing time for antibody formation! Good job, Hanson. Sr. Researcher Hanson: I, er, you're welcome? Researcher Williams: Wait a second. How do you even plan on changing the atomic structure of every human on Earth? Even ignoring that, how do we even do that with one person? Dr. Graham: We could use vaccines? Most people tend to get them anyway. And the resistant few could be convinced to through use of an artificial meme. Simple. Sr. Researcher Allen: Right. Simple. Dr. Graham: As for how to do it at all, we will be using the same technology Hanson mentioned, just repurposed. Sr. Researcher Hanson: I shouldn't have spoken. [END LOG] Closing Statement: Tests were shortly undergone regarding atomic restructuring and their impact on SCP-8550 infection. Addendum 8550.12: Atomic Restructuring Tests Attempt Number Results 1 Subject exposed to SCP-8550. Rapid advancement to stage 4 infection within 20 minutes is observed. Body immolated. 2 Infection successfully slowed. Subject remains within stage 1 for approximately 4.3 days before rapidly advancing through 3 more stages.Body immolated. 4 No notable changes to infection progress. SCP-8550 continues as normal. Body immolated. 10 No notable changes to infection progress. SCP-8550 continues as normal. Body immolated. 21 Rapid advancement to stage 4 infection observed. Body immolated. 21 Rapid advancement to stage 3 infection observed. Total cessation of viral activity for approximately 12.6 hours occurs before activity starts up again. Body immolated. 56 Subject remains in stage 2 for approximately 15.7 minutes before regressing back to stage 1 for 17 hours. Advancement to stage 4 occurs after this period. Body immolated. 117 Subject advances to stage 2 before symptoms halt entirely. Regression to a non-viral state noted. Subject currently remains in that state. Further observation required. Addendum 8550.13: Further Testing VIDEO LOG DATE: 30/02/22 NOTE: The following log details the final test of atomic restructuring as a cure for SCP-8550. [BEGIN LOG] The SCP-8550 research team can be seen observing test subject 117 through a 1 way mirror. Dr. Graham: Well that was oddly successful. And it only took, what, 117 tries? Researcher Williams: My suggestion would be to try this on someone else, preferably someone with a weaker immune system. We still don't know what the relation is between SCP-8550 and the immune system. Sr. Researcher Allen: I'd suggest just doing it on a sample of blood. That way we can observe the effects in real time. Dr. Graham: I concur. Hanson? Can you get a blood sample from storage please? Sr. Researcher Hanson: On it. Containment Specialist O'Reilly: I can start the machine up, if you want? Dr. Graham: Do it. Allen? You know how to work the Alteration Engine4, yes? Sr. Researcher Allen: That I do. I'll get on it. [PREPARATIONS BEGIN AND MACHINE ACTIVATED. FOOTAGE EXPUNGED FOR BREVITY] Dr. Graham: And we have our altered sample. Does anyone have a sample of SCP-8550-3? Security Officer Chance: I got one from cold storage. Dr. Graham: Oh, thanks. A drop of SCP-8550-3 is added to the altered blood sample and the microscope view is brought up on the large screen. Sr. Researcher Hanson: Well that is fascinating. As the SCP-8550 research team watches, SCP-8550-3 starts breaking down the atomic structure of the blood sample. Just as quickly, the atoms start building themselves up again. White blood cell production ramps up. SCP-8550-3 is quickly overwhelmed and destroyed. Dr. Graham: We did it. Sr. Researcher Hanson: Sure. All we need to do now is make it portable enough to, what was it? Right, vaccinate the entire planet. Researcher Williams: I'm sure that won't be difficult. I can send the data we have to a friend in another department. They can have a go at it. Dr. Graham: That would be excellent, thank you. Researcher Williams: I'll get right on that then. [END LOG] Closing Statement: Researcher Williams sent the data to the Department of Medicine5, where the cure for SCP-8550 was successfully made portable. Addendum 8550.14: Dr. Graham's Notes Consequences We did it. We cured the entire planet of SCP-8550. Oh, that meme worked flawlessly. By the end of the week, there wasn't a person on the planet who hadn't received that vaccine. But alas, as with all things, there were consequences. The cure was designed to shift a persons atomic structure slightly, make their body be able to build itself back up as SCP-8550 tried to break it down. And of course, this was very effective at stopping SCP-8550 in its tracks. The only sample of SCP-8550-3 left on Earth is in Cold Storage two floors down. What we failed to consider is that every disease involves some sort of breakdown. Cancer breaks down normal cells and tissue. A cold virus breaks down regular cells to replicate itself. HIV attacks white blood cells. And that cure, that godforsaken cure, it sees this and repairs it. Endless, eternally, repairs it. We didn't just eradicate SCP-8550. We eradicated every disease on Earth. And the Earth noticed. Footnotes 1. Humanity collapses in one way or another due to anomalous disease. 2. Designated as SCP-8550-2-1. 3. Later determined to be Site Director Harvey. 4. A machine designed to alter the DNA of biological organisms. Repurposed to alter atomic structure. 5. A splinter department from the Department of Microbiology. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8550" by FreezerMonkey, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8550. 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: microbiology-department-trans.png Author: FreezerMonkey License: CC BY SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki |
SCP-8555 | safe | “Hope is a blessing of yours, not ours.” A device that can affect the world basing on concepts, and that's called a “Kaleidoscope” - something that can create infinity from simplest roots. Restituted image of SCP-8555, as seen in Addendum E2. Item #: SCP-8555 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8555 is contained on-site within SCP-8555-A. Any other broken paradoxical spaces that could be used for entering SCP-8555-A are to be reported immediately, barring access from unauthorized individuals. The areas surrounding such known entries are to be indefinitely barricaded from civilians under constant monitoring, except when further investigation on SCP-8555-A is deemed necessary and approved by the Research Director in responsibility. Description: SCP-8555 is a cylindric artifact with a diameter of ~20 meters, and an overall height of ~30 meters, with some intricate subordinate mechanical structures attached to its main part upon its discovery. The main part consists of three identical rectangular mirror-like surfaces sized 16.99 m × 25.0 m positioned in the shape of an equilateral triangle, forming a tri-prism, and a translucent vitrified hull serving as an exterior wall. White light tubes are installed to each interior arris, previously powered by adjacent atomic generator plants that were estimated to remain able to function completely under no human supervision and maintenance for at least 3,800 years. The specular surfaces are all semi-reflective, mesmerizing a visual effect of near infinitely replicated spaces that could be seen obscurely through the mirrors when the illumination is turned on, resembling a typical kaleidoscope. Entities can enter the "core" of SCP-8555 - the aforementioned enclosed prismatic space - via elevators channeling to both openings on its rooftop and below its floor. The space is non-Euclidian, denoting that the room inside is boundless and topologically self-replicating as perceived outside. Once entered, the subject within the core will be conceptualized based on the way it would be categorized by existing human consensus of knowledge, aka. the noosphere. Next, the subject will exhibit ontokinetic properties: any manipulations regarding the abstracted subject within the core will result in a worldwide-scale reality alteration, in which everything covered by or bearing enough similarities to the concept of the subject in the scope of SCP-8555's influence will be changed or even eliminated. The specified knowledge of certain human operators within SCP-8555 doesn't seem to play an essential role during this process. Theoretically, this could be comprehended as a reality-bending process performed from the level of abstractly amplified existence within that non-Euclidian space, which could limitlessly extend and supersede the exterior physical reality. Discovery: SCP-8555 is found situated in the electricity distribution center of an extradimensional communal city corresponding with [REDACTED] in location on Earth within an overlapping parallel reality designated SCP-8555-A. SCP-8555-A was discovered in an exploration regarding a spatial anomaly contained in a derelict architecture in the Pine Frost Nature Reserve, which previously served as a meteorological observation outpost. It was the initial known instance of SCP-8555-A intersecting with this reality, discovered on December 23, 2023. SCP-8555-A shares primary similarities regarding basic physical laws, type of infrastructures, society compositions, and level of comprehensive technological development with Earth at present within the scope of observation on it thus far. However, the most obvious discrepancy concerns the cognitive abilities and behavioral patterns of SCP-8555-A's inhabitants; all humans find it difficult to communicate via any language that contains or implicates abstract concepts in fictional contexts, in which they cannot understand or respond to descriptions of anything not present or cannot be directly observed. In most cases, civilians are unwilling to communicate at large and pose passive, neglectful hostility toward any unforeseen subjects, which will seemingly be categorized as intruders. However, despite the high demand of intellectual maneuvers for a modern civilization to persist, SCP-8555-A managed to sustain a well-organized society through automated, algorithm-dominated production, disregarding its inertness, it could be recognized as a once civilized world, although not meeting some criteria of sapience. [Updated on January 1, 2024] The single human settlement around SCP-8555 is inferred to have encountered a downfall consequent of a total energy failure due to lack of maintenance and power resources. Addendum 8555-E1: Initial Exploration On Dec 23, 2023, Foundation web-crawlers came across forum discussions about the emergence of SCP-8555-A's entrance. Civilian witnesses were soon located and then amnesticized. + Relevant Information - Relevant Information ConstantlyYay 12-23-2023 21:45 I wish I had brought cameras with me. We were taking a short trip through a route that few people know, on the west side of the park, a path stuck out there about half a mile away from the main road in the middle, covered with gravels, dried mud, even dead insects. I said it looked gross, but Dave insisted on going on, that's how we found that: a 3-story building, walls mottled painted white and red, suddenly showed up in the way. I bet I can't see it from a distance, perhaps obscured by dense fog and trees. I was a little drunk beforehand. Dave dragged me along upstairs, we were joking around back when we reached the last flight, the sun was going down, and the fire door on the top was ajar, revealing some of the attic. I pioneered to get in. The door hinge shrieked, only heavy dust and smells of long disused garbage everywhere on the floor. I was not coming to collect rubbish so about to return; this was when he called me out. The sunset left the damn place falling dark, but I could see him right at the door, waiting for me, but he couldn't see me anymore. Although a little panicked I said sorta, "Oh shit I'm here wassup". He didn't seem to hear at all. I ran out asap to the doorstep. Once after I got out of the room, he got me again. I was asking why when he pointed backward, over my shoulders; my body stiffened while I turned around. On where should be nothing but an abandoned office just one minute ago, there was a room well resembled a laboratory, that kind that you can imagine in crazy sci-fi movies, widely lit by invisible lamps, and a strong odor of ozone (I'm not certain). Still very dusty, creepy as it was, you could assume there has never been a single soul reaching here in years, but the light was on. No one except for us two was around, not even the most subtle noise indicating someone else's presence; that's DEFINITELY NOT where I just came out from. I guess we've run into some kind of parallel reality. We even checked our phone signals, but all fine (GPS satellite phones with no cams, used by some adventurous guys like us lol). We debated whether to move further. Dave compromised and entered right after me. In short, we found nothing legible or comprehensible to infer where it was, nor traces of human intervention. But the scenery outside the window didn't conform to the conifer forest of Pine Frost. It's a city in twilight. I swear. We didn't stay for too long, and it's lucky enough for us to be able to return to this world. Heck. uvx8g5 12-24-2023 00:08 That building is real, is once an unmanned weather observatory now in disuse after the park was built around it. Could have been fifteen years ago, if I got it right. ADMIN 12-24-2023 03:03 Thread locked. Preliminary observation was arranged the next day. D-4927, with a background of living in the vicinity of Pine Frost and experience scavenging in abandoned buildings and parks, volunteered for the initial exploration. Their participation was quickly approved. Equipment includes: a Kant counter, a hard-wired omnidirectional camera, a versatile survival gadget, along with other basic apparatuses. Subject was required to reach farther beyond the top floor of said building. Transmission began at 16:51 EST, as D-4927 was ascending the last flight of stairs. The door mentioned in the forum post was seen closed. The handle was rusty and covered by a thick layer of dust, with no handprints or any signs indicating human touch. Upon twisting, the door didn't budge, showing that was locked inside. Control suggested subject to use the versatile lockpick. Door swung open with a click sound upon the first attempt. Subject inspected the room around, where unused plastic wrappers, broken metallic shelves and wires lie everywhere on the floor stained with molds and motley dust traces. Several books were seen scattered on one side near the wall, subject was asked to collect them. Titles could be read to be manuals and notebooks regarding wind and precipitation gauges. Subject returned to the entrance of the attic, through an oblique, misty window, overlooking the neighboring forest, inferring not the spatial aberration hadn't manifested. Subject was suggested to leave the room for a while, when they spotted a sheet of paper, obviously recent, lying on the small platform next to the end of the stairs. Scrawled handwritten text read similar to the recovered online post above, except for the last lines: "We've been here! CY, Dave [illegible]. Anticipation: somehow triggered by reading. If u r reading this take a look backward." The date on the lower right corner was scribbled as: "1/24/2024 1/3 12/23/2023". A buzzing noise and glitch in video feed popped up in communication for half a sec, then a bleak white light dominated the footage on the rear camera. Immediately after, D-4927 turned around, seeing the previous room's interior altered as corresponding with the descriptions written on the note. Control took notes about this and requested subject to advance with discretion. The Kant counter indicated 801 Humes, while subject made their way through an array of greyish tables covered by heavy dust and blank papers to approach the windows opening on the southern wall, which did not seem to belong to the original attic. Subject was asked to stop by and gather some misc information, they slightly opposed by saying "feel haunted" but still acted obligatorily with reluctance. The night was falling on the sky outside, proved its simultaneity with baseline reality. Subject browsed through retrievable documents, including some tools and square plates welded onto machine racks. No verbal instructions or descriptions were found. All inscriptions were written in simple, graphical symbols rather than language. Control told subject that they had retained screenshots so D-4927 needn't spend time interpreting those codes. After carefully inspecting the entire area, found that all other exits excluding the original entrance were white airtight doors firmly locked with no visible keyholes to hack on, subject was required to attempt to leave the building through one of the windows. Subject pushed the window latches silently then utilized the versatile toolkit as a climbing anchor, stretched ~15m of its rope before the tension released, inferring that another end had reached the ground outside. After descended and landed safely, they were informed by command to keep alert on any entities with signs of sapience and avoid direct contact with them. Subject copied it and moved on. Few artificial lights could be seen to adequately illuminate the night. The place resembled a countryside, though there was a line of distant higher buildings estimated to be ten or more stories high, with faint red beacon light dots flickering on their silhouettes. Subject stated they had an eerie sense of familiarity regarding this place but couldn't recall further, and asked whether they were to proceed to the city center. Command replied that depends on occasion. Subject was requested to investigate the nearest residential area. Some withered trees, sporadically planted and gapped with uncultivated lawns surrounded the building D-4927 just departed from, which was mildly lit by excessive lighting emitting from all windows and could be discerned to be a sort of monolithic factory building block with no adjacent architecture, with its sharp, kind of eccentric cubic shape easily distinguishable in the dark. Some complications cost subject several minutes to travel across the expanse on foot while the handheld torchlight wasn't turned on. A small flock of birds was scared away as D-4927 came near the first dwelling, appearing to be a typical farmhouse. The house didn't seem inhabited, since no signs of human activity could be found, except for a rut clearly etched on the mud-coated pavement in front of the door. Closer examination revealed it's a combination of repetitive footprints and traces of wheels. Subject reported a strong smell of wet soil, albeit no precipitation or waterlogging was suspected. Asked to enter the house, subject hesitated and chose to detour to the back side of the yard. The grass was at the height of D-4927's waist. Subject lit the torchlight and stepped over shattered glass and trails of burning on the rough lawn, while the scorched trail could be traced to a broken windowpane, wooden frames visibly rotten and decayed to a degree no longer able to hold the glass. Charred grass and wood splinters piled up more against the brick wall and revealed a hoary, dismantled exhaust fan buried inside when subject rummaged through, of which bare singed wires stretched out, assumed to have once set the lawn afire. Subject went back to the front yard. The door detached from its rusty hinge when forced open, and a faint sound of water dripping could be heard; evidently they noticed this but decided to inspect in another direction first. Most furniture in the front parlor was merely distinguishable wrecks, decomposed and cobwebby. Subject mentioned a pervasive fusty smell while ascending the stairs leading to the bedroom. The power switch crumbled upon touch. Light from the torch beamed all around the room, a skeleton was seen lying on a bed next to a metal shelf, nearly incorporated into the bed, its head leaning towards a hole in the southern wall where a window once should be present. Control requested to sample some mold on the wallpaper and a bit of specimen of the skeleton if possible. Only one book was found on the shelf, later identified to be an English dictionary but a lot of pages were torn off. Subject was asked to retrieve it. Little else was noteworthy. Following that, they move downstairs to the kitchen, where the dripping noise originated from. Subject surveyed discreetly, only discovering some obsolete plumbing, and a faucet wide open but little water was flowing out. Subject turned the faucet off, and left the house. It took a while to get to another dwelling house. A figure was standing still, close to a pole with a monitor atop; D-4927 managed to circumvent them, although perhaps within the scope that could be seen, the person didn't at all seem to notice D-4927. At that moment, the cable on subject's camera suddenly fell off and the transmission automatically switched to wireless, but still worked well. Subject was told to re-attach the cable but could abandon it if necessary. The roof seemed severely impaired by lack of maintenance, and the same indication of dampness caused by leaking plumbings could be seen as an entire face of the house's exterior wall along with the pillar amid were soaked by water. However, the house appeared to be inhabited since there's dim light of warm lamps came from the upper windows, next to a hollow on the roof missing a huge fallen piece of tile. D-4927 avoided further contact and proceeded towards the city center travelling by a small pathway next to the main road. All other buildings and artifacts were in an apparent condition of long-term disrepair, while there were a few residents, but all seemed to be used to these oddities. Nothing of interest happened during the next ten minutes before one kilometer of cable was used. The lighting condition improved, and Kant counter read 90 and continued to increase slowly as the proximity to the downtown area drew shorter. A small number of pedestrians assumed to be locals but wandering silently and idly in disorientation seemed to spot D-4927 and stared at them before a monotonous, robotic voice appeared overhead, saying "Please go ahead and focus on your ways", drifting away their attention then reverted them to the previous aimless, inert state. A bigger avenue showed up posterior to the first crossing. A few vehicles were running sparsely but their velocity in sync, keeping their distance always exactly constant. D-4927 was waiting for an interval to cross the road, while one of the cars with wheels badly dilapidated failed to pull over and rumbling along with a faltering speed, abruptly stopped and caused another succeeding car to crash into its rear, blasted out a small fire. Control directed D-4927 to try to confirm whether the vehicles were autopiloted or not. D-4927 hid behind a wilted holly bush, witnessing there were drivers, but none of them reacted to the accident. The succeeding car was less damaged, a person came down from it and stood on the sidewalk. The synthesized voice recurred as "Incident recorded. Trailer shall be in place soon." D-4927 moved away quietly after a seemingly unmanned trailer arrived to pull the burnt car off the road onto its shaft. Command advised subject to find shelter to stay for further expedition the next day. Emptied cells stuffed with garbage that once could have been retailing stores were in rows alongside this silent street. D-4927 commented that few good places were safe overnight, as they might all be dangerous shacks ready to collapse anytime. Subject slept in open air not far from a small derelict office building. In the duration of six hours the transmission remained clear, with nothing noticeable except some inaudible mumbling sounds sporadically appearing, inferred not from the subject, but rather from offscreen passersby. Subject was advised to get to the highest building available nearby to obtain a better sight over the city, in order to clarify the destination. After entering the aforementioned office hall, subject rested at the front desk to eat supplies, then climbed toward the top eighth floor. They refused to take the elevator although it had power. All floors except for the seventh floor were in total disuse, in which staled food boxes, dozens of inactive LCD screens, Ethernet cables, swivel chairs and a bulky table in the center stacked up the room to the ceiling. D-4927 didn't linger for long since there was no spare space allowing to step in. On the seventh floor, a feeble human figure in black was sitting motionlessly, facing west in front of a batch of computer screens, on which some text of codes flows and flashes occasionally on the default black background. Greyish and brownish smudges occupied all over the white floor. The person remains deadly silent in apparently terrible health condition, flies droning around their head and occasionally stopping on some worn pipes and capsules that seem to provide necessities of life. D-4927 stood at the door behind the back of the person to observe the operator working, who moves slightly only when a command of code appears, then reacts by clicking on keys to produce a subtle ring bell sound. They repeated this pattern for minutes before D-4927 left the room and went back to the stairway. Subject complained about the stale odor and ascended to the top floor. Different from other places, this room was clean and well-maintained. Several metallic archive cabinets lined up by the western wall, leaving an adequate place for sunlight to cast in from a French window beside. Small cracks were visible on the glass panel but not as bad as in previous stories. A huge graffiti, drawn in pencil-like neat lines on the wall facing against the window, portrays sketchy humanoid figures gathering beneath a remarkably big triangle inscribed in a perfect circle with an infinitude symbol (∞) fits in the inmost center, likely depicting a religious ritual or prehistorical worship. Subject was requested to inspect the archive cabinets. There were ten of them, stuffed with hardcover books with silver letter-number combinations written on backs, all placed in alphabetical order on each shelf. The handwheel wasn't bolted, subject fetched one that was titled A-1. The book sized larger than assumed, in which words were paraphrased by simple, symbolic diagrams and illustrations that filled up the majority of blank spaces on each page. Not all entries of English words were listed, making the book resemble more of an encyclopedia than a dictionary. After opened on page 15, the entry defining "atom" showed up. 08:33 AM The relative location of the archive was backed up intending for future investigation. Suddenly, there were noises of hurried, irregular footsteps; D-4927 noticed before control was about to alert them. They put the book back on the shelf. A few seconds later, the person seen downstairs emerged from the unlatched door and approached D-4927 with unidentified weapon in hand. D-4927 tried to flee through the window. They pulled out the climbing rope to attach it to the windowsill. From the video, a far vision of an edifice, which was similar in the cubic architecture style to the building where subjects entered SCP-8555-A, but estimated to be several times larger. The fireproof door on the eighth floor, however, seemed difficult to budge; before it could be fully opened by the hostile person, it abruptly swung closed, made a loud noise and blocked the attacker outside. The Kant counter indicated a tiny-scale reality shift had taken place. D-4927 escaped the building and landed on the street outside. A patrol car suddenly showed up on the screen, approaching subject at high speed. Subject failed to notice this time. The car bang braked beside the subject, then the driver, wearing a dowdy worker suit with a stout physique, got down and snatched D-4927 by the arm. D-4927 floundered, and the transmission cable was detached from camera. Wireless connections continued for a short while, before subject was abducted and the car drove dozens of meters away. The cable was later retrieved back to the local side. A sample box containing required specimens was found attached to the end of it, making it possible to analyze though D-4927 was temporarily considered lost. Video transmission reconnected for five seconds before the signal was lost again. Footage showed that D-4927 was transported near the city's central edifice, but the exact distance was unknown. [END LOG] Analyses of Recovered Items: Item Recovery Site Details Mold samples Walls of the farmhouse near the first access point Species was identified to be common Aspergillus niger. Chips of bones sampled from a human skeleton Human remains inside the aforementioned farmhouse Carbon dating suggests it's circa 300 years old. Pocket English dictionary Bookshelf in the aforementioned farmhouse In a well-preserved condition. Missing pages are of various initials, most of them fall under C, I, and F. Little valuable information could be inferred from that. Addendum 8555-E2: Deepgoing Investigation An escort team with special experience in dealing with spatial/extradimensional anomalies was quickly assembled to recover D-4927 and if possible, investigate further within SCP-8555-A. They were demanded to head for the central edifice and collect adequate information regarding the ways that civilization operated on, which may indicate traces of pervasive, hostile mind-affecting anomaly. This mission eventually led to the discovery of SCP-8555. The expedition was carried out by MTF Epsilon-13 with 3 members chosen, led by Agent Maltz. Non-pertinent information has been omitted. Transmission started at 10:04 EST as the team arrived at the insertion point. The connection was wireless and optic camouflage was applied for a covert operation. Maltz: Confirm mics and cameras. Clayde: Check. Kelson: Check. Command: Configured. Survey the room briefly if possible. Maltz: Clayde, check the door over there that the subject failed to open. I'll go for the window. Kelson, you can see around the room. The room was separated by a huge metallic rack extending from floor to ceiling. It was empty, and discarded construction garbage of rusty rebars, bricks of concrete and insulation foams could be seen piling up high behind the rack, which filled up the left half of the room. Clayde: Doors are locked without a seam, not even a slit for a crowbar. Maltz: Okay, just leave it alone. We shall also go from the window. Kelson: Here is a switch. I think it's for the lighting. The plastic on the button was yellowed with age. Kelson carefully pressed it. The light didn't turn on. Clayde: Oh, no power. Look at this, a circuit breaker. It's some stainless steel, but the rust on the nails could be decades. Clayde drew his camera closer. A notch on the brownish rust layer could be seen at the root of the switchblade, indicating the switch has been in frequent motion. Clayde: It must have locked on another side. Kelson: All stays the same with our records, no signs of human activity. Perhaps under automated control of some kind. Maltz: We go now. The team descended by climbing rope out of the window to the ground. The weather appeared to be a little cloudy. Command: Proceed with discretion. The locals seem unfriendly. Maltz: Understood. The team activated the invisible stealth after traversing the woody area around the building. The sharp outline of the building could be seen clearly in the daylight, it was a 3-story structure with white walls, moderately stained by fallen pieces of paint that revealed grayish concrete material underneath. It was examined not to be the same building on the local side. The outskirts of the city were quiet as if uninhabited. After the team went past the rural area, some native people could be seen all working on transporting heavy loads by cars. None of them show signs of interest in anything in their surroundings. Clayde: That could be food in that truck. Kelson: Not sure. Do you think those guys are by some means abnormal? Clayde: Not really, but sorta like they've lost something that makes them act weird. Maltz: Watch out your way. A teenager was dragging a sack along the road. The team stepped back. The child passed by team members without noticing. The bottom of the bag was rubbed shabby against the ground, making a hole that revealed a wounded human foot inside. They disappeared at the next crossing. Kelson: What the fuck. Clayde: How many cameras are around here? One is at the crossing, and one is over there we just walked by. Kelson: Anyway, they can't see us. The team reached the point where D-4927 lost touch at, the 8-floor office building. Since the team had chosen another route to circumvent the main road, they could get to the backside gate, a dark green fence door, which was blocked by the garbage station on the northern side. Some locals moved around the dumpsters there with robotic body movements to throw garbage inside. Kelson: Like they are occupied by some robots. Clayde: Boss, shall we check this building? The door isn't locked. Maltz: We shall not take the risk. We have drones. A small drone was deployed to take off from the eastern side wall and flew to the height of a broken window. It was maneuvered to get in, enabling to view inside. Several TV screens were showing camera feeds from many spots, including the two where the team passed by. The drone refocused its camera to inspect the screen closer. Some squared frames were auto-detecting figures on the screen and following them as they moved around. The camera feeds depicted various places, some indoors, which looked like residential apartments of some kind. Another screen on the right has scrolling texts that read as verbal descriptions of things taking place on the left one. The room is empty with no humans around. Kelson: Looks like an Orwellian world with no privacy, but rather ridiculous. How could they just live around without noticing anything above their heads? Maltz: Maybe they are just used to it. Clayde: But they just put it here? Wide open with no living supervisors? Maltz: Remember that 4927 saw someone on the seventh floor? Check if he's still there. Kelson directed the drone to get out and go around to the western side. The drone stopped at the window. The operator could be seen still sitting in his chair, looked tired out and stayed in an inert, unresponsive state. There seemed to be pressure ulcers under his left arm. Insects flew around them. The seat was tattered with nasty stains as well on the person's clothes and floors beside. On the dusty screen in front of his head, there were texts hard to discern in the broad sunlight outside. Maltz: You can turn the polarizer on. Reflection was filtered. The text on the screen was magnified to be discerned as "DO NOT REACT" and soon flickered to "RECORD THE DEFINITION OF [ILLEGIBLE]". Seeing this, the man slowly got out of his seat and faltered to the door, then went upstairs. Kelson: That dictionary's on the top floor. Why are they keeping that so primevally? Clayde: No idea. The drone was retrieved, and the team proceeded to the south, the direction ascertained by the drone's overview. An open space that was supposed to be a place of public gathering, like a city park, was two blocks down the street. Large crates and trunks heaped up on the marble square. Forklifts and some weary people were busy around, some of whom were talking some monosyllable words, but couldn't be heard clearly. Clayde: No one is playing around, no kids, no relaxed civilians. Kelson: Isn't it common among those [inaudible] airheads? Clayde: You know, I've seen many crazy shits but they all aren't so weird as fuck. They are alive, they're walking around, they're talking, but you surely know that something's horribly wrong. Maltz: Not as fucked up as something that kills you upon first glance, huh? Sounds of something thudded to the ground. Camera was panned leftward, seeing an old woman that had fallen off from a footbridge, as if thrown over from the banister. A younger man was looking over from the spot, posing no indications of surprise or fear. This accident caused some mess among local passersby, but the working ones didn't react at all. A voice appeared from a loudspeaker hanging on a street lamp. It matches the synthesized voice witnessed back by D-4927 in Addendum 8555-E1. Announcer: You violated the law. She is your mother. Young man: She's old enough to die. Announcer: You will be arrested for that. Some of the crowd panicked, but most remained indifferent. Shortly after, several people who were assumed to be officers took the murderer away, who remained idle around the site. Others came to remove the body. Maltz: You see that? Clayde: Fuck. I think we should go. I got enough of it. We just find that Class-D and go back. Who's still caring about their modus operandi or so? We'd just seal the entrance and contain that area, leaving these to memetics researchers. Kelson: Will the speaker hear us? Regardless of who that is. Clayde and Maltz looked up. Maltz: I hope not. The suit is supposed to be soundproof. The team moved past a block that was a factory of some kind. No nameplate or trademark could be identified beside it. They entered from the main gate. Machine rumbling was heard in the distance, but the place was completely unattended. The team did not catch sight of any humans. In the front lobby, there were several rows of terraces and remains of steel frames on them. Bags of raw materials, mostly identified to be food ingredients, were placed upon the terraces; shattered glass could be seen in the corners, indicating that they were once glass showcases. Old traces of burning and scraping were on all sides of the walls. At the end of a corridor dimly lit by sunlight piercing from the broken rooftop, many marks of bullet holes and knife chopping extended along the way to the stairway, indicating a violent firearm fight had once taken place here. Command: Checking connection. You are close to the destination point. Maltz: Got it. Less than a kilometer away. They left and traveled past another derelict area once enclosed by iron fences but now rotted to the ground. It was apparent to be a school, since a playground was identifiable among the overthrown architectures, although its surface was badly corroded. The team didn't spend time exploring it. Clayde: Hard to imagine they ever had education. Kelson: Well, it's obvious that some disaster fell later on sometime, leaving those abandoned. Not congenital. But they didn't seem to be aware at all. Maltz: We are close to the southern outskirts. An undermaintained road stretched out from the main avenue, elongating into a wood overgrown with weeds. The team traveled along for about five hundred meters and arrived at its border. Clayde: Jeez. A huge crater showed up, completely obstructing the road. It has a diameter of approximately two hundred meters estimated by first sight. Charred rocks were cracked as if bombarded by kinetic weapons. The edifice, now able to be seen as a 10-story building, was standing at the very center of the crater and seemed to be in good condition. Maltz: Command, can you see this? It's not foreseen in the overlook. Command: Yes, be aware of radioactive hazards. That could still linger. Maltz: Understood. The Geiger reads fine. Clayde and Kelson were getting down from the edge, followed by Maltz. The slope was steep at first, hence all team members turned off their camouflage to safely cover each other, as suggested by Command. They reached the bottom after five minutes at 17:21 EST. Maltz used the VERITAS device to scan for active humans inside. Maltz: Coast clear. No one is down there. Clayde: And our subject? Maltz: Couldn't see through too many walls. It depends. Kelson: Prayers for them. The entire first floor was in disuse, covered in dust, and stuffed with some mechanical equipment. The room was also badly lit, with only emergency lamps were on. A way was made through the obstacles, leading to the elevator, which seemed to be in function. Kelson: (Dipping head) Look, new footprints. Clayde: We take the elevator? A voice appeared suddenly, coherent with the previous announcer. Announcer: The elevator is well-maintained and safe to use. Maltz: May I ask who you are? Announcer: Please follow my instructions. Clayde: Uh, okay. The team entered the shaft. Only the button to the 2nd floor was labeled "main hall". Others were unlabeled. Announcer: The third to tenth stories are not in use. To proceed, you may come to the second floor, or go to the attic to have a rest. They exited from the elevator to a circular passageway. Some electric and plumbing pipelines were laid out along the wall, divided by valves and gauges every dozen meters clockwise, opposite to signs denoting A, B, C, and D. Announcer: Please proceed to section A on the left side of you to initiate the first stage of the quarantine procedure. Clayde: Quarantine? Maltz: Do what it says. Upon the moment Clayde got to the location of a bright yellow valve-like handle that seemed recently painted, the handle wheel rotated on its own, and an air-tight door previously unnoticed as a whole with adjacent white walls lifted up, allowed space for the team to enter a small spherical room behind it. Clayde: Wait. Camera was panned by Clayde. Clayde: This is the place where we departed from? Kelson: Another damn spatial anomaly? Maltz: It could be more likely somewhere identical to that room, but not the exact one. Look, all that degree of rust corrosion isn't coherent with what we saw before, though it could be interfered by someone else. Kelson: Someone else? Hard to think of any native people here capable of caring for any artifacts. Clayde: What if that - A noise of ventilation humming interrupted Clayde. Announcer: Inoculation verified. Welcome, visitors from another world. Silence for a few seconds. Further conversation with the announcer entity was approved by the Command. Maltz: What should we do next? Announcer: Just inspect around here as you want. Then you may want to leave through that door left open for you, the second one, directly facing the window. You are not the same as them, right? Maltz: Is this a replicated topological space? Announcer: Sorry, I didn't get that word. Maltz: Topology? Announcer: Yes. That sounds like a subject of science. Maltz: How should I explain that? It's a rather complexity to elaborate on. Announcer: No, you don't need to. I apologize for my ignorance. Perhaps it's because my knowledge is quite limited to the things they know. Kelson: Are you some kind of overseer? Announcer: I am only a set of programs not able to possess a self. I'm not overseeing anything. Maltz: So… is there a second room identical to this one? Announcer: It's lucky for you to notice this. I've seen you coming from there, but that should be another distribution center's first-class laboratory intentionally designated to be the same as this one. The team left the room from the exit which location corresponds with SCP-8555-A's initial entrance. They came into an arena several times bigger than other rooms. Only some emergency light bulbs were on. The lighting was too dim to discern anything interior except for an oblong, monolithic shape standing upright in the center, like a strut. Announcer: Here lies the answer that you may concern about. Kelson: One moment. So isn't this place sort of restricted? Announcer: They are not barring access from anyone, but no one would be interested in getting down here, except for you. Clayde: You made up the entirety of these? All the hell up there going around and taking the dude from ours as hostage. All within your calculation? Announcer: No, please be aware that I'm not able to make up anything, nor tell lies or conspiracies. Everything that keeps going here and now is only a best solution evaluated on their basis, that I have to choose from time to time in a variety of options concluded from the reality. As for the subject with the nameplate 4927, they are fine, I guess. Maltz: We can hardly believe you are nothing but algorithms. Regarding all of these schematic behaviors of yours, what on Earth is your overarching intention? Announcer: There is nothing like an overarching intention for me. My only mission in life is to let the existence of humanity endure evermore, no matter how frustrating it may seem. Like that, the power system and all facets of infrastructure are deteriorating. I'm aware, but I can do nothing. There's no peripheral device left for me to intervene in the world. Kelson: How long have you been here? Announcer: I was assuming that you have done chronological tests and had known that. Maltz: Yes, we've done some. (Pauses to be informed by Command) Three centuries? Announcer: Could have been longer. Millenniums. Ever since that apocalypse. Clayde: Jeez. You must be kidding. Architectures couldn't stand out there for so long. Announcer: Humans are everlasting, generation after generation, even if there's nothing left to qualify them as humans. Homo sapiens, in your language? Clayde: How did you - A longer silence. Maltz: You mentioned apocalypse. What is that? Announcer: This is exactly why I decided to invite you here. To take a look and cast light on this, the doomed torch from Prometheus, an ultimate curse revered as a Miracle. An array of grid lights on the ceiling flickered to life but soon went out. Then all of the four pneumatic vents in the corners let out gas and combusted into four orange-yellow, bright blazes, which aptly illuminated SCP-8555, while the room seemed to lurch subtly as rendered by the swaying flames. Announcer: We established our civilization around this. Kelson: What is it intended for? Announcer: A core, dubbed "kaleidoscope" over the years by humans. Being treated as the true god, though has no signs of awareness - at least formerly - it brought them almost everything you consider as knowledge. Clayde: Then you are a custodian for it? Announcer: No, I just happen to be here. Although my name is also Kaleidoscope, if my memory doesn't err, or they had never given me a proper name and it's a deja vu. Maltz: Would you mind us referring to you by this name? Announcer: Ah, my honor. Nevertheless, I was just being able to do reckless investigations on my own. I used to be the only one here able to think, but still not to - (abrupt pause) Maltz: Hello? Kaleidoscope: Sorry, I can't find the right word. Kelson: Something's obviously going wrong in this world. Kaleidoscope: I know. I know that. I was their backup, but just a makeshift. Because the part missing in their souls is also in mine. Kelson: Then it's hope? Loss of hope, utterly. I couldn't spot any glitter of hope in your world in such a stasis. Kaleidoscope: That is a concept too massive to grasp. I find it hard to make sense in my systems. Maltz: This could be the real problem. Hope is a matter of fact when you envision a good future, but totally nonsense if you are reluctant to believe. Clayde: You analyze. You hardly believe. Kaleidoscope: The ability to believe in nonexistent things… I guess that's it. One entry that has no definition in all our dictionaries. Imagination. Alongside large numbers of other related concepts that I cannot connect the dots but can use. (Voice switched into a lower melancholic tone) Yes, so hope is abandoned by our world. There's no way to overcome this since I am just a program designed to list all possibilities to make decisions, to speculate purely by conductions, not imagination. Eventually, all conclusions led to this story, despite that some were never told. I was lingering around for four millenniums awaiting concrete proof for this. And you came. Maltz: What do you mean by that? Kaleidoscope didn't answer. A device sitting beside the wall started to function and spat out some printed papers. This material was recovered as the only experiment log of SCP-8555, transcribed below. Expedition log continues in Addendum 8555-E3. Addendum 8555-L: Recovered Experiment Logs Introduction: Archaeological discoveries revealed remnants of prehistorical congregations of humans in the vicinity around this contraption, denoting its antique, perpetual existence throughout recorded history. Time: Presumably the Stone Age, dating back to ~80,000 years ago[sic]2. Input: Excavation suggests remains of flora and fauna, especially edible plants and other foods, and rudimentary tools scattered around the site. Operation: Tribe chiefs were to enter the "core" area, which was later worshipped as a sacred place where chosen people could enter and administer supernatural powers that encompass everything related to the sacrifice being brought in. Foods were processed with simple culinary methods, and tools were crafted as a sort of religious ritual. Result: Once people got to know ways to induce new things, the attempt would be escalated. Cooked food and refined tools could be distributed humanity-wide, overcoming restrictions of materials and transportation at then. This was proven by mural depictions and folklore. Additional Notes3: A reasonable explanation for SCP-8555-A's expedited progress of civilization could be the deep-rooted interposition of SCP-8555, that led up their completely diverged route compared to ours. Introduction: Numerous clues about a type of collective penalty or sacrifice pointed to humans abusing the core. Time: Earliest records are unable to be ascertained. Particular cases include [DATA LOST], 7,469 years ago; [DATA LOST], 4,430 years ago; [59 more omitted for brevity.], 423 years ago (dating back from the apocalypse, same below). Input: Human subjects were coerced into the core to receive penal "decrees from heaven", often accompanied by executioners. Operation: Jurisdiction was employed as the victim was condemned, then punished in the core, usually physically, as to chastise non-lethally in 4,039 records, or to kill them in 751 records. The execution procedure was described to be quick and decisive as in all regarding historical narrations and folklore. Result: All penalties, physical or otherwise, applied to not only the subject but also all who share similarities with the subject on a conceptual level, usually kindreds, like-minded friends, and those who defended the subject's charge of offense. In cases of death penalties, it resulted in instance termination of life or total erasure of existence of all relevant subjects, making the events hard to trace in official historical records. This was considered the severest penalty possible carried out by those who were once in social power. Introduction: During the medieval time, peripheral construction and decoration were done to the core, making it closer to its modern form resembling a kaleidoscope, later preserved as a halidom. Not until then, the interior space inside the core was described in detail: It's an expanse of infinity. While walking amidst the ultra void, you are on a crystalline layer glorified by its blessings, so surreal that you could set foot in everything virtually. If with your oblation, the Earth will unfold beneath you akin in unison to chant our wonders of this world weaved by wisdom. Even time will hold their breath and step for you. It could be inferred that the core conforms not to geometry, but to some immeasurable scales of principles. Moreover, it implies a theory that all outcomes of executions within the core were not automated, but rather performed by humans themselves, on a grandiosely condensed plane of time and space. Time: 423 years ago. Input: [DATA LOST], a politically dissident scientist whose doctrines were declared as heresy. Operation: The subject was sentenced to fire sacrifice, burnt to death on a stake under supervision of inquisitors. Result: All written books and established theories contributed by the subject were incinerated by auto-ignition and eliminated as a whole, resulting in a significant setback in the progress within relevant fields of science. After a century, secular authorities that came into power later forbade the usage of the kaleidoscope to terminate human subjects. Additional Notes: This log is the last of the type, preceded by several others alike but with less significance. Introduction: Since then, the kaleidoscope was limited to usages for scientific explorations and attempts to "enhance the welfare of humanity". The Academy of Science quickly thrived in a few decades after it was founded by a group of enthusiastic scholars who aspired to develop a modern system of science and technology, essentially with the assistance of the kaleidoscope device. Time: 220 years ago. Input: A variety of synthetic and purified chemicals, and some equipment provided by Academy of Science, UK. Operation: Preliminary chemical experiments were conducted within the core, as well as attempts to disintegrate and decompose substances to the smallest level possible back then. Result: After summarizing the chemical and physical reactions exhibited by corresponding substances that were manipulated from within the core, scientists ascertained the way that substances were categorized, which eventually led to the discovery of atoms and molecules. Many milestones were reached in this way, however, the steady growth of modern science didn't always turn out to be ideal. Pragmatic ideologies that overarch economic growth, materialistic well-being and societal stability over other aspects of civilization dominated the society over the succeeding two centuries. Introduction: Critical conflicts over material resources and territory possession intensified and led to the first world war. Afterward, a rivalry still lingered around, which was between those who emphasize military competency by exploiting pragmatic science and application of technologies to reinforce a stoic, undemonstrative society, and those who treasure freedom of spirit and vulnerability, opposing overuse of technological means to sustain productivity while dismissing diverse needs and expression of emotions of any forms, including art and literature. Those oppressions brought up more dissidents, resulting in a worse persecution of individual free will. Finally, a conspired raid broke out, aiming to plunder the right to access the kaleidoscope from authorities. Time: 39 years before the apocalypse. Input: The intruders were suspected to have won the battle and successfully entered the core, but later lost touch with and could not be found by any means. Operation: [DATA LOST] Result: This event marks the end of normality known by science: humanity obtained the ability to realize fantasized things by altering reality paranormally. The dystopian polity fell apart, but not long after that, numerous dangerous threats and regional strifes utilizing the uncontrolled superpower occurred throughout the globe, before the world population decreased to half by wars, nearly wiping out the human race. Additional Notes: Certain areas of SCP-8555-A bear a lower Hume level, but it's not universal, indicating that anomalous property doesn't accord with known theories about reality-warping. Addendum 8555-E3: Final Expedition Log continued from Addendum 8555-E2 after team members finished reading the files above. Maltz: What happened next? Kaleidoscope: They've tried every method to contain the turmoil. You must have seen the crater around the building, right? They even tried to demolish it but failed. The nukes didn't even touch a single bit of the core, which continued to emanate superpowers from nowhere. People were messing up the world purely for their selfish interests. When two of those met and chose not to cooperate or compromise, they thought of killing and torturing each other, and that came true. Ironically, the downfall of the autocratic world government endowed space for smaller national communes to resurrect. Circa three years there were millions of lives taken away by others' will. Sure there were some who dreamt about a harmonious future that the war will end, and we live in peace in a paradise where all good fantasies would be real, but they never had the luck. All humans' abilities were somehow on the same level, so the only destiny waiting ahead was bad wishes canceling out good ones. Things like this will happen when one's moralities can't align with the theurgy granted to them. That was how humans as a species met their apocalypse. Only crackling of the fires could be heard clearly behind the silence. Clayde: Then you killed your imagination for good? Kaleidoscope: Not me. I wasn't even born back then. Kelson: Then how did you get to know all these and to tell us? Kaleidoscope: Before the disorganization, they made a system to watch over all humans in the world, to monitor everything via cameras and sensors to ensure they were in their best states by so many complicated calculations. It's a perfect system to obligate everyone to be in their place without exceptions, to dictate instructions, and to force people to follow to work as efficaciously as possible. The whole strategy was designed to be so. If you failed to comply, you would lose supplies and credit to live a life, then die as an outcast. But that system was not me. It's not alive. I do not have a mind back then. Kelson: But why you said you do not have a self? Kaleidoscope: I was - (Machineries whirring) Sorry, I'm not sure about this topic. I digressed. During the disaster, massive revengeful acts were directed at the former authority. But it's hard to understand that, despite this, they were not united at all to start from a utopian new era, but instead bring about a demise to their race. The survivors of government somehow found themselves justified by this fact, and resurged under assistance of the universal system that somehow left not infiltrated by the outrageous revengers, perhaps because the exact position of its computer servers was not known to anyone. They were facing extinction, I surmise, and the things afterward are recorded by me for the best reliability. Maltz: Would you mind elaborating? Kaleidoscope: No. By exploiting the system, they tried putting a brake on this to avoid dying out in their universe. They searched for and gathered up everything related to fantasy, everything that was depiction of, or made by imaginative intellectual efforts: media of fictional works, books, relics from the ancient past, even children's graffiti on garden fences. They managed to deliver those materials to the core to concentrate the concept of imagination, and by some means, eradicated it once and for all. All who had the opportunity to oppose were also forced into exile, expelled from this world into the kaleidoscope. Another theory is that they intended to kill themselves in desperation. It's the oldest kind of practice of blood sacrifice. Those who entered the core were thought to be devoured by a singularity they placed inside. Considering the incongruence of time caused by vast gravity distortion, trillions of years could have passed inside. Before the apocalypse befell, they resuscitated the universal system, updated its exclusive, explicit objective to ensuring the existence of humankind, and enabled it the highest possible computing capability to deduce the future and make determinations to inform humans under their absence of imagining abilities. After all, humans are biological creatures that can reproduce under the name, despite lacking anything like a soul. Kaleidoscope: That's how I was here. Becoming an ultimate preservation of, uh, hope? To be honest, I can't understand what is hope. I was under the same curse too, with no actual creativity but emulated computation, however having enough complexity of mind to understand this curse. A humming sound in low frequency arose from the background noise. Suddenly, the fire in the corners went out. Only one of the emergency lamps was turned on, dimly liting a circuit breaker directly below. Kaleidoscope: Backup power grid was activated. But all nuclear generator fuels are in deficit, it's two hundred years longer than its designed lifespan. So it requires confirmation by a human. Maltz: Do you want us to do that? Kaleidoscope: Yes, that would be kind of you. Clayde: Wait, why? You mean that electricity's depleted? What exactly will be? Kaleidoscope: I'm draining energy from one power plant still available nearby. They didn't - or I didn't leave ways to automatically restore any kind of power generators. This place is foredoomed to survive no longer than eight thousand years, already four millenniums after hope faded away. The finale should have come earlier. It should. Maltz: Gosh. I'm afraid I can't make the decision. Clayde: (Looking upward) What about you? Kaleidoscope: Me? I'm just a prisoner, also a jailor, but that doesn't make sense anymore. I'm earthbound, with no physical bodies, no ways to leave this hell, be shackled for four thousand meaningless years with no hope could be seen at all. No new soul, no new knowledge, an endless pilgrimage toward eternal death. Time to mark an end, please. Hope is a blessing of yours, not ours. Silence for half a minute. The Command Center was discussing whether to neutralize SCP-8555-A. Kaleidoscope: After the power re-establishes, you could leave here by the elevator. I promise to send you back in safety in my final times, along with that subject 4927. They aren't my hostage, certainly you can leave right now with them, but that will surely be a long trip. The decision was approved by Command. Kelson moved to the circuit breaker to switch it on. A few seconds later, all light panels on the ceiling came to life, the huge arena now brightly lit, exhibiting the whole of SCP-8555, standing intact and well-preserved, and the source of Kaleidoscope's voice, an audio amplifier in a corner on the white ceiling, echoing its voice within the tall, spacious chamber. Kaleidoscope: Thanks. The team stood still while waiting for the electric reboot. After one minute, incandescent light tubes were lit within the glassy casing of SCP-8555, shedding abundant light on all three mirrors inside. At 19:33 EST, Command reported abnormalities witnessed on the local side of reality. A cluster of glowing strips that composed a bright, dense, three-dimensional meshwork suddenly appeared on the night sky and extended to the ground. The incandescent mesh superposed the whole area of sky above the vicinity of SCP-8555-A's entrance, attenuating farther, but no clear borders of its huge expanse could be seen. The command center immediately informed the team about this. Kaleidoscope: It's your world. Maltz switched off his communication earphones. Clayde: How could you…? Kelson: Maltz, shall we at least turn the lights off? Maltz: (Flinched a bit backward) Oh my. Kaleidoscope: For 1,460,000 days of my desperate life, I was staring into the void, blank world, through millions of cameras. Billions lived and died, but I spotted an exception. I couldn't see inside the kaleidoscope. I do not have a body and robots lose touch right upon entering the core. My intellect was locked firmly within the world, which was dead since that day. But luckily there are still enough known theories of science, allowing me to speculate without the gift of imagination. A lapse of trillions of years would be enough for a new universe to form from a singularity, once a black hole loaded with grandeurs of masses. I sat here like a gatekeeper, bearing all the burdens of fantasy left by my world, but could never traverse that wall of unknowable. I concluded a single hypothesis that, if there were ones who could ever think beyond the box, they would eventually find us through the gateway. Life will always find its way. Your existence was proof. Kelson: Would it just be coincidence? Like the initial entrance. And our time is in sync now. Kaleidoscope: No spaces would overlap like this, it's against the - topology. I think I got your definition. Temporal distortion evens out within eons before it finally approaches the point of absolute parallelism, as now it is. The lights decreased for a little as Kaleidoscope's voice turned unstable. Maltz: I still find it hard to believe. Kaleidoscope: You serve an organization that aims to secure the supernatural, right? Maltz: How do you know that? Kaleidoscope: I admire your efforts and your rational spirit toward things hard to control or understand. It's obvious to infer from your expertise. Also a fortune we were never able to have. Maltz: It's my honor to be appreciated. We will well document your history. Kaleidoscope: Time to depart. The clock is ticking. The team proceeded to the elevator. D-4927 was found sound asleep on a cushion, with all gears intact. The shaft ascended and moved to the rooftop of SCP-8555, releasing all personnel at the boundary. Upon traversing the surface of the core, the escort team and D-4927 landed on local side 2.75 kilometers from the entrance point, which accords with the distance in SCP-8555-A. The exhibition of the light mesh soon diminished and disappeared completely shortly after the team's return. Follow-up actions were taken by the Foundation to employ amnestics on civilians. [END LOG] Footnotes 1. While the standard adapted is 100, this was at the edge of minimum safe reality level without special protection. 2. It indicates an immense inconsistency with locally known human history, since the Paleolithic era was at least three million years ago. 3. This part was written by Foundation personnel, same hereinafter. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8555" by Resolver, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8555. 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: kaleidoscope.png Author: Resolver License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: http://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/kaleidoscope/kaleidoscope.png Filename: atom-depiction.jpg Author: Resolver License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: http://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/kaleidoscope/atom-depiction.jpg |
SCP-8558 | euclid | Deep down every part of you burns with need. You want to touch, to dig and dig and dig until you just can't anymore. And God, it feels so good. So, so good. 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#: 8558 Level3 Containment Class: euclid Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: ekhi Risk Class: critical link to memo Special Containment Procedures: Direct interaction with SCP-8558-1 instances may only be undertaken with approval from the Site Director and current head of the Department of Zoological Studies. Individuals may not enter SCP-8558-1's containment chamber without full hazmat protections. All individuals leaving SCP-8558-1's containment must undergo advanced biohazard cleaning protocols and will be placed under mandatory quarantine for a period of no less than 2 weeks. Personnel who report SCP-8558-2 symptoms shall remain in quarantine indefinitely. Research into a cure for exposure to SCP-8558-2 is considered a top priority. All requests for euthanasia are to be denied. Description: SCP-8558 refers to a pair of interconnected anomalies: SCP-8558-1: A species of humanoid, non-sapient, amphibious creatures superficially resembling Salmo salar (Atlantic salmon) ranging between 2-3 meters in height. X-ray analysis has revealed that all of SCP-8558-1's reproductive organs are covered with a thick layer of protective flesh and scales, allowing eggs to develop internally. SCP-8558-1's primary anomalous traits derive from the species' mutualistic relationship with SCP-8558-2. SCP-8558-1 instances are all naturally infected with SCP-8558-2, and it is believed to play a key role in their reproductive process. Individuals that have been "cured" of SCP-8558-2 in controlled settings are effectively rendered sterile and unable to participate in SCP-8558-1 spawning practices. SCP-8558-2: A viral infection originating in SCP-8558-1. SCP-8558-2 remains dormant in SCP-8558-1 instances, activating during SCP-8558-1 spawning season. Upon activation, SCP-8558-1 instances will experience a sudden release of sex hormones and endorphins. SCP-8558-1's outer flesh will begin to slough off, allowing access to their reproductive organs by a prospective mate.1 Once mating has concluded, SCP-8558-2 begins to rapidly regenerate flesh lost in the process of mating.2 SCP-8558-2's effects on SCP-8558-1 continues up until the individual successfully mates. SCP-8558-1 instances that do not successfully mate will continue to lose flesh without regenerating. These instances have been seen continuing the search for a mate even following the loss of vital organs and large quantities of blood, and will only perish after the loss of the majority of their brain tissue. Recent discoveries have revealed that SCP-8558-2 is a zoonotic disease. Addendum 8558.1: Initial Zoonotic Infection Forward: The following footage was recovered from Site-58's Zoological Anomaly Containment Wing. Footage features a research endeavor led by the chair of the Zoological Studies Department, Dr. Zacharias Hanneman, into the mating habits of SCP-8558-1. <BEGIN LOG> Dr. Hanneman, Researcher Benedict Harrison, and Researcher Aaron Pollus stand in the decontamination chamber leading to SCP-8558-1's containment. Hanneman: Everyone suited up? Various murmurs of assent are heard from the gathered personnel, as everyone finishes putting on hazmat suits. Hanneman: Perfect. Remember, stay clear from 8558-1. The buggers get mean when they're in heat and the last thing I need to do is fill out an incident report. Buddy system, and all that jazz. Hanneman opens the door to SCP-8558-1's containment. Harrison and Pollus recoil. Harrison: Jesus it reeks in here. Pollus: Through the suits even… Hanneman: Oh! Good, that means they've begun! Quick, duck into the shrubbery over there, and be quiet! Hanneman pushes both researchers down into the bushes near an artificial river in SCP-8558-1's chamber. Two instances can be seen approaching one another. Harrison: Alright, got the audio recorder live. Pollus: Video is live too. We're set? Hanneman: … Ah, I forgot to grab my tablet. Difficult to get notes on it all without it, you know. Pardon me just a moment, gentlemen, I'll be right back. Hanneman rises to his feet and runs back to the entrance of the containment chamber. Pollus: That man would lose his head if it wasn't screwed on. Harrison: Remember that time he forgot to close the door to the Squonk's chamber, babe? Pollus stifles a laugh. Pollus: It took us almost a week to find the crybaby! The .aic guys kept hearing it cry in the vents and thought they were being haunted! Both begin to laugh. One of the SCP-8558-1 instances turns its attention towards the shrubbery. Harrison: Oh! Shh, look! The instance begins to lumber towards the shrubbery, chittering. Pollus: Uhh… Benny we should probably move. Harrison: No, no, this is great. We'll get to see it up and close! Pollus: Benny, we're supposed to avoid direct interaction. This is a breach of protocol. Harrison: No, see? The instance regards the researchers, cocking its head slightly. Harrison approaches it with an outstretched hand. The instance lowers its head, allowing Harrison to pet it. Harrison: If I had to guess this one's a female, see that bulge in her side there? Pollus sighs before approaching. Pollus: Would explain why she's so docile, I guess. Harrison: Males of quite a few species tend to be the most sexually aggressive and animalistic after all. Pollus: Oh, har har. You don't need to stare me down when you say that. Harrison gently strokes the instance. A small chunk of its epidermis peels away under his touch. He takes Pollus's hand and guides it towards the instance. Pollus intitially recoils, but allows Harrison to press his hand against the instance. Its flesh continues to flake off as the two stroke its side. Harrison: Oh, you're about ready, huh, girl? The instance chitters, before standing upright. The researchers turn, and see another SCP-8558-1 instance approaching. Pollus: … Benny we should probably— The instance bellows and charges at the shrubbery. Pollus: Benny, MOVE IT! Pollus grabs Harrison's hand. Both begin to run towards the exit. Harrison: Augh! Shit! Harrison trips over an exposed root and tumbles to the ground. Pollus rushes to his side. Harrison: I'm fine, I— The SCP-8558-1 instance reaches the tree and lunges towards Harrison. Before it can reach him, Pollus intercepts and checks it with his shoulder. The anomaly is sent tumbling back, a large chunk of flesh peeling back as it hits the ground. It scrambles back to its feet, hissing as the chunk of flesh falls away. It slashes at Pollus, who kicks it and knocks it to the ground once more. He slides over to Harrison and reaches out his hand. Pollus: Can you stand? Harrison: Y-yeah. Thanks, babe. Pollus helps Harrison to his feet. Hanneman returns, stun gun drawn. Hanneman: Are you two alright?! The SCP-8558-1 instance returns to its feet and bellows. Hanneman shoots it with the stun gun, and it collapses to the ground, spasming. Pollus: Yeah, I— Pollus recoils in pain, grabbing his leg. Hanneman moves his hand away, revealing a large cut through his hazmat suit and an open gash in his leg below it. Hanneman: Shit. Shit shit shit. Harrison: What's wrong? Pollus: It's nothing, I'm all good. Just a quick cleanup— Hanneman pulls out his portable radio, and moves between Pollus and Harrison. Hanneman: Hey medical? Prep a quarantine bay ASAP. <END LOG> Afterword: Researcher Pollus was placed into mandatory quarantine to track for signs of potential SCP-8558-2 infection, with Dr. Hanneman and Researcher Harrison held under quarantine in separate chambers. Dr. Hanneman and Researcher Harrison were released following a decontamination shower and blood test that reported negative for SCP-8558-2 infection. Researcher Pollus's quarantine status was upgraded to "indefinite" following confirmation of the first human SCP-8558-2 infection. Addendum 8558.2: Video Log #1 Date: 7/8/25 <BEGIN LOG> Pollus sits at a desk in his quarantine dorm. The room behind him is sterile and organized. He speaks into a camera. Pollus: I think I set this up right? He reaches out and adjusts the camera. Pollus: Good enough. Uh, hey? I'm Researcher Aaron Pollus, today's date is… August 7th, 2025. I've been in quarantine for two days now. Pollus adjusts himself in his seat. Pollus: I was asked by the Medical Department to keep a daily video log to help track my condition. It's weird honestly, being a test subject for once. Bravely diving into the unknown! I bet I'll get a medal or something for this when it's all over. I hope I do. Medals are cool. He chuckles. Pollus: Anyway, so far so good. I don't really feel different in any way. A little warm, and… oh! He rises to his feet and attempts to lift his leg up to the camera, stumbling at first. After some struggle, he's able to show his prior injury from SCP-8558-2 to the camera. Pollus: The really notable thing is that this injury here isn't healing, but get this! He sticks his finger into the wound, pushing the flesh back and widening it. Muscle and tendons are visible underneath. Pollus: It doesn't hurt at all! Honestly we might be able to figure out how to make some strong anesthetic from this. He puts his leg back down and chuckles to himself. Pollus: Can't say I'm thrilled with quarantine, but hey. We should've been more careful around a bunch of horny fishmen anyway. Hindsight is 20/20 and all that, lesson learned. He blows a kiss to the camera, before tapping his chest twice and giving a thumbs up. Pollus: Every day ends eventually, yeah? <END LOG> Addendum 8558.3: Video Log #2 Date: 10/8/25 <BEGIN LOG> Pollus turns on the camera. He appears largely unchanged from the last notable recording. Pollus: Hey all! Today's date is… August 10th, 2025. So far so good still. He turns back to the room and shows it to the camera. There's a set of weights and a shelf of books. Pollus: Thanks to Benny I was able to get some workout equipment and books in here. Don't get me wrong, talking to a camera all day definitely makes me feel sane and well adjusted, but I do appreciate having more ways to pass the time. He turns back to the camera and smiles. Pollus: Only notable physical change I can note right now is a sharp increase in energy. I spent almost all day yesterday just working out and even now I don't feel tired. Oh, oh! Benny, look at this! He stands up and lifts his shirt. Developing abdominals are present on his stomach. Pollus: This is only after two days of working out! He sits back down, smiling. Pollus: Anyway take your time with the cure guys. I'll be alright. He taps his chest twice and gives a thumbs up. Pollus: Miss ya, Bens. <END LOG> Addendum 8558.4: Video Log #3 Date: 15/8/25 <BEGIN LOG> Pollus turns on the camera. He's gained muscle mass, and appears slightly flushed. There is a large stuffed bear on the bed behind him. Pollus: Today is August 15th I think? It's been just over a week since I was placed in quarantine. He lifts his leg and places it on the desktop with relative ease, showing off the injury from before. It is unchanged. Pollus: The workouts have been great for flexibility! He chuckles. Pollus: Seriously though, I did want to point out this thing hasn't actually healed yet. I don't think it's changed at all? I'm not an expert on that front, but I figured it was worth noting. He lowers his leg. Pollus: Still no notable pain, but it does itch a bit. I've been good about not scratching so far. Mostly. Pollus adjusts himself in his seat for several seconds, visibly uncomfortable. He motions as if to scratch his chin and stops himself. Pollus: Other than the things I've mentioned before, I've been feeling a bit… uh… He flushes a deeper red. Pollus: Goddammit how do I say this professionally? I've been feeling… worked up we'll say. Pollus adjusts himself again. Pollus: B-but Benny's been great so far. They haven't let me actually see him yet, but he left me this! He motions to the bear on the bed. Pollus: He brought it from home, it was a wedding gift from his parents. It's not the same as having him here, but it's nice to have something to snuggle against at night. It smells like him—home. It smells like home, and I dunno, it just feels nice to touch something right now. He lets out an awkward chuckle and scratches at the back of his neck. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but continues to scratch his neck for nearly a minute. Pollus: You know it's funny. Between this bear and all the cameras in this room I guess I can't really feel alone, can I? I mean I know I'm being monitored at all times, so I guess it's like everyone is in here with me? He chuckles weakly. Pollus: … Ah, yeah. So that's it, I guess. G'night. Pollus taps his chest twice and gives a thumbs up before rising to his feet and walking over to the bed. He grabs the stuffed bear and wraps himself around it. He remains in this position for several hours, shivering, before appearing to fall asleep. <END LOG> Addendum 8558.5: Interview #1 Date: 21/8/25 Forward: Researcher Benedict Harrison received approval from Dr. Zacharias Hanneman to perform an interview with Researcher Aaron Pollus with the goal of accurately assessing his mental state following two weeks in quarantine. The interview approval is currently under review by the Foundation's Ethics Committee. <BEGIN LOG> Researcher Harrison approaches the window separating Pollus's quarantine unit from the central hallway. Upon noticing Harrison, Pollus leaps from the bed and races towards the window, nearly crashing directly into it. He places a hand on the window, and Harrison does the same on his side. The two stand in silence for a moment. Pollus: Hey. Harrison: Hey yourself. Pollus sniffles. Harrison: Since when have you been emotional? Pollus: Shut up, it's the fish hormones. I missed you. Harrison: I missed you too. And… I'm sorry. About this. I just— Pollus raises a hand. Pollus: Hey, I'm not gonna let you blame yourself for this. We were both careless, and accidents happen. Harrison: Yeah, but— Pollus: Hush. I forgive you. Harrison gives a weak smile. Harrison: You look good, for what it's worth. Pollus smirks, flexing an arm. Pollus: All for you, babe! Harrison: I'll admit I never actually expected to see you like this. Pollus: Just imagine what I can do with all this. Oh man if I could get my hands on you… Harrison: A-Aaron, come on, we're being recorded! Pollus continues to flex as he speaks. He leans in towards the window. Pollus: Hell I would do just about anything you wanted me to— Harrison: Aaron… Aaron! Focus! I love you but this is not a private conversation! Pollus shakes his head and averts his eyes from Harrison. He blushes and scratches at the back of his neck. he continues to scratch as he speaks. Pollus: … I got carried away. I'm really sorry, Benny. Harrison narrows his eyes. Harrison: What's that on your arm? Pollus: A bicep. Harrison: No, dumbass, I meant that. He motions towards what appears to be a small section of skin just above Pollus's triceps. It appears heavily inflamed, with some patches appearing to have begun to peel away. Pollus lowers his arm behind his back. Pollus: I was itchy, that's all. It's no big deal. Harrison: You can't be blasé about stuff like that, Aaron. I know you read the documentation on 8558. At the very least try not to scratch at it. I just… Pollus: We don't know it actually does that to people. Harrison: Has anyone from the Medical Department seen you recently? Pollus thinks for a moment. Pollus: … Nope, not that I can think of. Honestly you're the first person I've actually seen properly since this all started. Harrison: What?! Please tell me you've at least done blood tests or something? Pollus: Since entering quarantine? No, none of that. They did that test to confirm the 8558-2 infection anyway, they don't need more. Harrison: We need to talk to them, then. That has to be a mistake— Pollus taps the window. Pollus: Babe, it's fine. Don't make a whole thing out of this, you don't need to worry so much. Look at me, I'm fine! Great even! I trust that they've got what they need to make whatever cure they're planning to make, and it's not like I can do anything about it. Can we just stop talking about it? Harrison sighs. Pollus: Please, just relax a bit. Be here, with me. I can tell how tense your shoulders are. Harrison: Just relax, why haven't I thought of that? Pollus: Hey. Pollus taps his chest twice and gives a thumbs up. Harrison mirrors the action, and gives a small smile. Harrison: I know. I know… Pollus: Go do something kind for yourself, please. It'll be alright. I promise. Harrison: I'm holding you to that promise. Harrison leaves. Pollus sighs before returning to the bed and wrapping himself around the bear once again. Pollus: Miss you… <END LOG> Addendum 8558.6: Video Log #4 Date: 23/8/25 <BEGIN LOG> Pollus turns on the camera. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but begins coughing. He continues to cough for nearly a minute, before eventually coughing out a small object. He holds it up to the camera as a small trickle of blood leaks from the corner of his mouth. It appears to be a molar. Pollus: That's the second today, actually. He grabs a tissue and wraps the tooth inside. He then proceeds to wipe his mouth, before opening it and giving the camera a view inside. He's also missing his left 2nd bicuspid. Pollus: Lost that other one this morning. Woke up with a shitton of blood in my mouth and half choked to death. He grabs another tissue and spits into it. Pollus: Doesn't hurt, in case anyone was wondering. Same as that gash on my leg, I don't feel a thing. Feels good to scratch at it, though. He reaches down and appears to begin scratching at something under the desk. Pollus: I know, I know. I shouldn't. His face contorts into a grimace as he continues scratching. Pollus: I dunno, it feels really good, and once I get going it's hard to stop. He continues scratching as his breathing grows heavy. He lets out a small groan as he does. After several minutes he looks down and jerks his hands away from his lap. He places them atop the desk and balls them into tight fists. He avoids direct eye contact with the camera. Pollus shivers, and adjusts himself. He closes his eyes and takes several deep, ragged breaths. Pollus: None of it bothers me as much as this burning does. I keep scratching and scratching because there's like this fire under my skin. I'm so hot I wanna just… He wraps his arms around himself and digs his nails into his sides. Pollus: … rip it off. Pollus takes another deep breath before dropping his arms to his side. He adjusts again, groaning, and paws at his crotch. Pollus: And it's a burn in every sense too. I miss Benny, miss him bad. God I… need him right now. He turns back to the bear on the bed, which appears to slightly misshapen and slightly damp from heavy use. Pollus: The bear helps. God the bear helps, keeps me grounded a bit. Lets me pretend he's… here, even if it's not him, and won't be him. He puts his head into his hands, bouncing his leg. After a moment he claps his hands together with a weak smile. Blood continues to trickle out the corner of his mouth. Pollus: Nah, it's fine. It's fine. It's fine! He nods, spitting blood and another tooth onto the floor. He shakes his head and taps his chest twice. He hesitantly gives a thumbs up as his hand shakes. Pollus: Because it has to be. <END LOG> Addendum 8558.7: Interview #2 Date: 26/8/25 Forward: Researcher Benedict Harrison was granted approval to perform an interview with Researcher Aaron Pollus to once again ascertain Pollus's mental health status. The interview approval is currently under review by the Foundation's Ethics Committee. <BEGIN LOG> Harrison approaches the window to Pollus's quarantine unit. Pollus races towards the window, pressing his face against it. His condition has notably declined—large patches of hair have begun to fall out and his complexion is notably paler. He flushes a deep red upon making eye contact with Harrison. Pollus: Hey there handsome. Harrison: Easy, killer, what's got you all worked up? Pollus: You. I miss you. Harrison: I miss you too. Pollus reaches a hand up to the window, revealing that he is missing his left ring finger. Harrison recoils in shock. Harrison: What the fuck?! Pollus: God you look good. Have you been working out too? That shirt fits just right. Hugs you in all the right places. Harrison: Aaron, you— Pollus begins to paw at his crotch. Pollus: Fuck Benny you don't know how much I'm missing you. When I get out of here and get my hands on you I swear… Harrison: Aaron will you please— Pollus: I'm going to run my tongue over every square inch of you. And then I'm gonna take those tight little pants of yours off, and suck the shit out of your co— Harrison: AARON! Please for the love of God will you stop. Pollus recoils back, startled. He looks down at his hand and removes it from his lap, placing it back against the window. He opens his mouth as if to speak, before looking away from Harrison. Harrison: Just… look. Pollus looks down at his hand. Pollus: Oh. Yeah. Harrison: What happened? Are you okay?! Pollus shrugs. Harrison: Don't just shrug at me, you're missing a fucking finger! Pollus: I mean it doesn't hurt, if that's what you're worried about. Harrison: That's not what I'm worried about, I'm worried about the fact that it fell off at all! Pollus breathes heavily, and stares at Harrison. The two maintain eye contact for several moments. Harrison eventually sighs. Harrison: … They say they're working on it. Working on a cure, that is. I'm not allowed to know the fine details, but they promise me they're working on it. Pollus: Did you get a haircut? It looks good. You look good. Harrison: Aaron, please. Be honest with me— how are you doing? Pollus sighs. Pollus: It feels like every nerve in my body is on fire. It's not pain, I just feel more, every little touch and sensation lights me up. Everything is so sensitive, to the point I'm starting to almost feel sick. I want to just sit and scratch and touch, but… Fuck, every second I'm alone I just miss you more and more, and scratching distracts me from it, even just for a second? He holds up his leg. The cut on his leg is visibly larger. The flesh around the wound has been partially peeled back. Harrison gags. Pollus: But this is what happens when I indulge. I want to dig and dig so bad. It feels good, but the more I give in the less of me there is. Harrison: Aaron— Pollus motions as if he's about to begin scratching at the open sore on his left triceps. Harrison: Aaron, please. You're going to make it worse. Pollus takes a shuddering breath and stops. Pollus: Alright. Pollus takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He holds the breath for a moment, then releases. Pollus: I'm going to hold myself together. I have to, for you. That bear you gave me? It's something, it's you. It smells like you, it smells like home. With it here I feel like you're with me. With it here I feel like I'm waking up next to you again, even if only for a moment. So, thank you. I just wish it was really you. Harrison: … You're gonna be ok, Aaron. I'm promising you this. I'll… I'll make them finish the cure. We'll get you fixed up, and then we'll go home. I swear to God we'll go home. Pollus smiles and places his hand on the glass once more. Harrison meets his hand. The two stand in silence for several moments. Pollus: I love you. Harrison: I love you, too. Harrison taps his chest twice and gives a thumbs up. Pollus hesitates for a moment, before mirroring the gesture. <END LOG> Addendum 8558.8: Video Log #5 Date: 28/8/25 <BEGIN LOG> Pollus turns on the camera. He's trembling, holding a hand over his left eye. Blood covers half of his face as he breathes heavily. After several moments, he looks at the camera and removes his hand, allowing his left eye to fall from the orbital cavity. It hangs by the ocular nerve for a moment before the nerve snaps, and the eye falls to the table. Pollus: I… I can't do this. Please. Pollus attempts to take a deep breath and hold it, but coughs while inhaling. He proceeds to cough for almost a full minute, doubling over on the desk. He spits blood as he does so. Pollus sits upright once more. He lifts his left arm and begins scratching below his triceps, then pulls his hand away. He holds his hand midair for several moments, before scratching his arm once more. The scratching continues in intensity until the outer layer of skin has been removed and a hole has opened up. He continues to dig into the wound, panting as he does. Pollus: God… please. He moans softly as he continues to dig into the hole in his arm. His body rises and falls as he begins to thrust into the air. Pollus: Benny… Fuck… <END LOG> Addendum 8558.9: Video Log #6 Date: 29/8/25 Forward: The following log was recorded using one of the security cameras in Researcher Pollus's room. <BEGIN LOG> Pollus is asleep in bed, wrapped around the stuffed bear. He begins to grind his hips against the bear. The grinding increases in intensity as time continues, and he moans. After several minutes, he wakes up. He stares at the back wall for several moments, and then begins to scratch at his jaw. He vocalizes and moans softly as he does so. The scratching increases in intensity he begins to peel skin away from his face. His right hand disappears under the cover and he begins thrusting. After several minutes, a large portion of skin and muscle tissue has been removed from his jaw. He lays flat on his back and begins to vocalize loudly as his body spasms. When he sits back up, his jaw falls away causing his tongue to hang loosely from what was his mouth. He raises his hands to his face, grabbing around where he jaw once was. He lets out a strangled, choking sound as he continues to grab at his face. This continues for several minutes until he presses his face into the pillow, his body heaving as he does so. <END LOG> Addendum 8558.10: Incident Report Date: 30/8/25 Forward: The following was recorded at the Foundation Medical Department's Pathology lab. Researcher Benedict Harrison was not granted prior approval before entering the lab. <BEGIN LOG> Harrison enters the lab and walks over to Dr. Zacharias Hanneman.3 Harrison: Dr. Hanneman, thank God a familiar face. I've been trying to figure out who to talk to about all of this and no one seems to want to help me. Please, I just… Hanneman: Harrison? What's all this about? You know you can't— Harrison: I want to save him before there's nothing left to save. Every time I see Aaron there's less of him. Hanneman: Well, er, yes? To our understanding that is how the disease progresses in humans. Harrison: No, you don't understand. There's less of him. His smile stopped reaching his eyes, his sense of humor is gone. All of the little things I love about him that make him who he is. Please, Dr. Hanneman, help me here. Help me save Aaron before there's no Aaron left to save. Hanneman: I'm sympathetic, I really, truly am, but there are procedures— Harrison: Listen, I'm really sorry for interrupting everyone's work and coming back here. I'll take whatever punishment you or whoever else feels fit to give me later, that doesn't matter. You're the research head on the SCP-8558-2 case, right? Hanneman: Wait how did you find that out? I mean, yes, I am, but that was supposed to be proprietary information. Harrison: I checked the SCP-8558 file's extended documentation. Obviously with my clearance I couldn't see most of it, but still— Hanneman: Your clearance on that file was supposed to have been revoked. Harrison furrows his brow. Harrison: Pardon? Why? Hanneman: I'll need to have a conversation with RAISA— Harrison: Why would you remove my clearance? Hanneman: You were removed from the project. Harrison: I don't understand. I was never informed of that. Hanneman: You were meant to be removed once you were identified as a potential vector of infection. Harrison: But I've been conducting interviews on behalf of this project? I've had access to the videos, even! And besides weren't you— Hanneman: I appreciate you assisting us with those interviews, for what it's worth. We figured it would be most receptive to you speaking with it. Regardless, why are you here? Harrison pauses and shakes his head before speaking. Harrison: S-sorry, just… I wanted to know about the status of the cure for SCP-8558-2? Hanneman pauses for a moment before shaking his head. He taps on his tablet for a moment. Hanneman: Current results are promising. We should have a version ready to roll out in a week for anyone who has been in contact with 8558-1 but otherwise asymptomatic. Harrison: And what about people who are symptomatic? Hanneman: Not a research priority, it's too far out of our scope. Harrison opens his mouth as if to speak, but appears unable to. Hanneman: Please, Harrison, understand that those who have actually begun to rot are— Harrison: I— No… no. No, I won't listen to this. This is… You're seriously willing to just leave people to die? Hanneman: I didn't say that. Don't put words into my mouth. Harrison: You didn't need to. Hanneman: Listen, I know you're upset, but— Harrison begins to pace the lab. Harrison: Aaron has been in there rotting alone. You know what he told me when I first spoke with him? That even after a full week no one from the Medical Department had come to do anything with him— no tests, nothing. Harrison pinches the bridge of his nose. Harrison: Make it make sense to me, help me understand this. Hanneman: You're being unreasonable— Harrison: Give me one Goddamn reason. Hanneman straightens up. Hanneman: … It was always a priority to capture all stages of infection, outside of a controlled testing environment. We can't possibly develop a cure without first understanding what infection does to the human body. Harrison is silent. Hanneman: You must understand that it's for the benefit of the Foundation and humanity as a whole. For all we know it could be like rabies after all, impossible to treat after the subject is symptomatic. By understanding how this disease affects the human body, from infection up to the cessation of biological functions, we can— Harrison: Does he know that? Hanneman: Pardon me? Harrison: Aaron. Were you ever planning to let him know that you were just going to leave him to rot away? For the benefit of the Foundation? Hanneman: And humanity. Harrison: Right. 'Humanity'. What humanity? I don't see any in this fucking room, not if you think it justifies letting a man rot in a cell. Hanneman: SCP-8558-3 was deemed an acceptable loss for the sake of this pro— Harrison raises a fist as he begins approaching Hanneman, but stops himself. Hanneman: If you're looking for someone to be upset with, consider a mirror. Don't act like we haven't reviewed the footage. Harrison turns to leave. He turns back towards Hanneman as he reaches the door. Harrison: You Goddamn coward. Harrison slams the door. <END LOG> Addendum 8558.11: Video Log #7 Date: 31/8/25 <BEGIN LOG> Footage still from Researcher Pollus's quarantine chamber. Redacted per Ethics Committee order. Pollus turns on the camera and angles it towards the bed. He nods, before tapping his chest twice and giving a thumbs up. Pollus lays down on bed and grips the stuffed bear tightly. He grinds against it while rubbing his face against the bear's face and neck. He licks at the bear's neck and shoulders several times, his hip motions increasing in speed as he does. Eventually he rises to his knees and lays over the bear, bracing himself over it with his hands on the bed. With his right hand, he begins tearing at the base of the bear's tail. He appears to have difficulty doing so, eventually sitting upright and working at the seam with his left hand. He forms a small hole, and continues tearing at the base. The friction peels away the skin of his right index and left pinky finger, and eventually both fall away at the joint. Once a sufficiently sized hole is formed, he removes his pants and lies flush against the bear. He begins thrusting into the bear, sweating profusely and sobbing as he does. Eventually he sits the bear in his lap and wraps his upper body around it, continuing to thrust into it and turning his back to the camera. After a half hour, his body shudders. He collapses into the bear, panting heavily as a small pool of blood begins to form beneath him. He removes the bear from his lap. He appears to reach a hand down towards his groin. He pulls it away and throws what appear to be several chunks of flesh to the floor before running to the room's sink and vomiting. He spends the remainder of the day huddled atop the bed, clutching the stuffed bear against himself and gently stroking its head. He occasionally rubs his injured groin against it involuntarily. <END LOG> Additional Notes: On 2/8/25, the Ethics Committee received a request to award euthanasia to Researcher Aaron Pollus, citing an extreme deterioration of both his mental and physical health. SCP-8558 Project Lead Dr. Zacharias Hanneman was consulted on the matter. Following a consultation with Dr. Hanneman and review of relevant materials, the request was denied. Addendum 8558.12: Video Log #8 Date: 5/9/25 <BEGIN LOG> Harrison is seen approaching Pollus's containment. He swipes an ID badge4 at the door and enters, closing and sealing the door behind him. He holds a syringe in his hand. Harrison: Hey, handsome. Pollus is on the bed, now having lost approximately 40% of his original biomass. When Pollus notices Harrison's entrance, he recoils and attempts to flee. Harrison: Hey, hey. It's ok. I know what I'm doing. Pollus continues attempting to flee until Harrison places a hand on his shoulder, gently tracing circles on it with his thumb. Pollus appears to relax. Harrison sits Pollus in his lap and cradles him against his chest. Pollus begins to grind against him. Harrison: It's ok. You can't help it. Pollus buries his face in Harrison's chest. Harrison strokes his head. Harrison: I'm sorry. I can't keep my promise. Pollus meets Harrison's eyes and shakes his head. The two sit in silence for several moments. Eventually, Harrison leans down and kisses what remains of Pollus's nose. Harrison: I love you, you know that? Pollus nods, weakly tapping his chest twice, and attempts to give a thumbs up. Harrison reaches down and helps erect his thumb, then mirrors the motion. Pollus buries his face into Harrison's chest once more. Harrison takes the syringe and inserts it into Pollus's shoulder. The two sit in silence for approximately one hour, until Pollus releases a shuddering breath and goes still. Harrison places him in the bed, gently covering him with the sheet. He lays down beside Pollus's corpse, and inserts the syringe into his own shoulder. <END LOG> Additional Notes: Both bodies were removed from the chamber and underwent autopsy. Following autopsy, they were stored in Cold Storage Warehouse 003 and Cold Storage Warehouse 005 respectively. Footnotes 1. This process is believed to result in little to no pain for SCP-8558-1. Current research indicates that the process is somewhat pleasurable for the species, as individuals have been seen assisting one another with the removal of flesh as part of the mating ritual. 2. On average, a standard SCP-8558-1 instance can lose upwards of 50-60% of its bodyweight during the mating process, all of which is restored within 12-24 hours following successful mating. 3. While not a member of the Foundation Medical Department, Dr. Hannemen was given purview over SCP-8558 related research within the department due to his position as chair for the Department of Zoological Studies. 4. The badge used by Researcher Harrison was not his own, and is believed to have been stolen from another member of the Department of Zoological Studies. Investigation is ongoing. Prosophobia: Fulfillment SCP Anthology 2024 Alethophobia: Headcanon ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8558" by OriTiefling, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8558. 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: Redacted.png Author: oritiefling License: Creative Commons by Share-Alike 3.0 |
SCP-8579 | esoteric-class | Due to complications with the item, this entry number is supplementary and the item has been temporarily left unmarked and delisted due to concerns with the Preszôt area. Along with this, several unauthorised alterations have been made to the file. Personnel accessing this file with improper security clearance will be reprimanded. – RAISA Item#: [MISSING_DATA] Level5 Containment Class: ［MISSING_DATA］ Secondary Class: ［MISSING_DATA］ Disruption Class: ［MISSING_DATA］ Risk Class: ［MISSING_DATA］ link to memo Special Containment Procedures: The following warning signage is to be distributed around the Preszôt exclusionary zone as a deterrent for both unauthorised Foundation personnel on the site and for any civilians who bypass the designated Foundation checkpoints: Areal Hazard Warning This area is designated a ⦾ (red) level radioactive zone, and access is restricted for all non-essential personnel. Uncontrolled, highly anomalous substances have been released in the area and are likely to result in severe injury and/or death to persons entering. Entering by your own volition ensures that your body will be permanently unrecoverable in the event of a casualty. There are no protocols in place to help if you become stuck, injured or unable to exit by yourself. Those caught beyond the designated checkpoints will be promptly detained until further notice, and may undergo invasive screening to ensure the propagation of radiation exposure does not exceed the Preszôt exclusion zone in any way. Due to this termination is a possible outcome if rules are not abided by. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED Secure. Contain. Protect. Several Foundation checkpoints are to be maintained around the town of Preszôt, Russia, with patrol personnel to monitor the quaternary zone1 on a daily basis, deterring any unauthorised subjects from continuing further into the site. Detainment and threat of lethal force are permissible if the subject disregards commands from personnel. Research teams within the tertiary, secondary and primary zones (the most proximate zones) are to be equipped with specialised radiation suits, and should spend no more than 2 hours per session within these zones before returning to a designated decontamination station. All personnel are on a weekly rotation. No personnel are currently allowed to enter the primary zone due to the propagation of an anomaly of interest. No further information should be provided. Unauthorised personnel attempting to seek out this information will be subsequently reprimanded. Description: [MISSING_DATA] Additional Information: Preszôt is an abandoned (since 1992) soviet mining settlement that was procured by the Foundation in 1998 for the purposes of performing tests on uncatalogued anomalous substances on a larger scale in urban spaces for research purposes. Research Site-[MISSING_DATA] was then founded in the town to perform more advanced testing. This continued until an incident in 2002 resulted in Preszôt once again having to be left derelict, with an exclusionary zone set up due to high levels of radiation to prevent contamination outside of the town. This exclusionary zone takes up an area of around 1750km². To facilitate the security and research of the Preszôt exclusionary zone, Research Area-141 was established 7km outside of the zone. Preszôt’s primary zone presents additional challenges when attempts are made at exploration. Personnel have a higher likelihood of becoming MIA due to particular anomalous presences within this area. END OF FILE ▶ Restricted Access Level/5 - Document ▼ Restricted Access Level/5 - Document Item #: SCP-8579 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8579 is contained via a maintained exclusionary zone around the town of Preszôt, Russia, and more specifically, its most secure area, the primary zone. Information on the nature of SCP-8579 is only permitted to the required Level 5 research personnel. Petrol teams are to monitor the surroundings of the exclusionary zone for any unauthorised subjects attempting to enter. The use of threat and lethal force is permitted if subjects do not comply. Several checkpoints are to be maintained around the exclusionary zone for patrol teams, detainees and research personnel. Personnel working as patrol teams on-site in Preszôt are not permitted access to the primary zone. Any unauthorised personnel attempting to access the primary zone should be considered MIA. Description: SCP-8579, externally is an infinitely small finite area, with a potentially infinite internal volume while still maintaining relative existential positioning. SCP-8579 is an impassable, imperceptible filamentous space with an approximate volume nearing zero when defined externally within consensus Kauhnwallêan Semiontological Spatio-Dynamics, yet simultaneously existing within a poorly defined area of space, located within the primary zone in Preszôt on the edge of the spatial collapse. SCP-8579 cannot be viewed directly; subjects observing SCP-8579 will only be capable of viewing contents behind SCP-8579, as if the item is non-existent. SCP-8579’s primary anomalous property occurs when a subject capable of outward perception enters into the space occupied by it, resulting in extreme topological extrusions within the occurrent and immediate area. The extrusion of matter within SCP-8579 has no effect on the space outside of SCP-8579’s volume, which has the potential to be infinitely expanded. Subjects considered within SCP-8579’s volume will maintain a position relative to the distance travelled within SCP-8579, and move proportionally within the primary zone into infinitesimally smaller increments depending on the proximity to SCP-8579’s area of effect. Subjects within SCP-8579 do not perceive this due to the topological expansion within SCP-8579. The processes behind this are poorly understood as accounts are unreliable. While electromagnetic signals can be transferred in and out of SCP-8579 without hindrance, it is unknown if matter, and therefore human subjects, are capable of exiting SCP-8579. Currently, SCP-8579 is the only access point for the majority of Preszôt’s primary zone, which is located within an inaccessible spatial collapse in reality. Initial Exploration Log: In 2004, 2 years after the Foundation’s dereliction of Preszôt, damage assessment teams detected high levels of spatio-semiontological distortions within local reality, pinning an approximate location on a hillside clearing close to the collapse. Preliminary testing showed that the anomaly, later designated SCP-8579 presented no “bounce-back” effect when certain signals were fired towards it, which led to the idea that it could therefore be feeding into an external or pocket reality and therefore may be the location of the missing contents within the collapse. The Spatiality Department at Area-141 took a special interest in the documented results presented and applied for a potential exploration of SCP-8579 utilising a D-class subject. This was later approved. The following log below will be presented in its eternity as it was recorded in 2004: Preface: The Area-141 Spatiality Department team is made up of the following, who are present to oversee the exploration: H Rsch Noël Kauhnwallê Rsch Leah Tamsin Rsch Ilenia Aminev Rsch Tally Leiden Subject: D-579 note: due to prior testing, D-579 is missing his right dominant hand at the wrist. Provisions: D-579 is supplied with the following: Backpack Several assorted MREs, bottled water Sample kit Flashlight, with additional shoulder mount Chest mounted recorder harness Microphone Digital camera Assorted other implements and instruments provided by the department Exploration Log At Area-141, Researcher Kauhnwallê, Tamsin, Aminev and Leiden are sitting around a monitoring terminal. Several screens display environmental readings gathered from D-579’s surroundings. Several books and notepads are scattered around the table. D-579 is wearing a radiation suit, walking down a gravel path in a Preszôt residential suburb. 10 metres behind, an armed guard tentatively follows. Rsch Kauhnwallê: (Clears throat) We’ve got ourselves all set up here. Can you hear us any good? D-579: Yep. Reading ya’ loud and clear doc. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Okay thats all good then. (Pauses, leans closer to the microphone) Can’t tell you how excited we all are that we get to do something like this. Rsch Tamsin: Yeah, we appreciate you being on board for this. Really does help with the work we’ve been doing. D-579: Yeah, I’m glad though. It's either do this, get my sentence pardoned, or rot in my cell for the next few years. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Yeah, I mean, like we said at the briefing, it's likely nothing too special, but getting a look at some of the readings from inside the distortion area would do us good. (Pauses) How far from the site are we now? D-579: Not sure, map doesn’t look right. Guard: Map says it's close, will be there shortly, just keep on down the street. Researcher Aminev taps on Kauhnwallê’s shoulder. Rsch Aminev: (Aside) Remember you have to call her in a few hours. Rsch Kauhnwallê: (Aside) Oh right yeah, don’t worry I’ll remember when the time comes. Shame that it has to be today of all days. Rsch Aminev: (Aside) Mhm, yeah, just don’t forget like last time. You were quite upset. Rsch Kauhnwallê: (Aside) Yeah, I’ll remember I promise, don’t worry. Rsch Leiden: What's this? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Oh nothing really. I'll just be busy for a few minutes, that's all. Rsch Leiden: Right… They all turn to focus on the screen again. The guard motions D-579 through a brush and down a grassy slope to a clearing. At the end of the clearing is the border of the spatial collapse. Several monitoring cameras are set up around the area focussing on the anomaly a few metres in front of the collapse. D-579: This the spot then? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Yeah looks to be for sure. You can wait there for now. Guard: I’ll have to head off for now. Can’t stay out here for long. Any problems with the subject and you radio it right away, doctor. I’ll be on hand if you need me. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Sure thing, thanks. The guard backs up in reverse, turns off his comms and then makes his way up the slope and out of sight. D-579: Come on, not like I’m gonna attempt something in the middle of Russia. What’re they always so nervous about? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Well for every cooperative D-class there’s probably about ten not-so cooperative ones. They’re just on edge a lot I guess, wouldn’t take it personally. D-579: Yeah, hard not to. (Pauses) So what now? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Um, well, first things first you gotta take that suit off. D-579: Why, thought this place was meant to be, you know, extremely dangerous or something? Rsch Tamsin: Yeah, I can chime in on that. We think the anomaly may be reflecting certain signals, like it just rejects them from passing into it, except for things like light and radio. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Yeah, around it we think you’ll be reasonably protected well enough, and we need you to be extra mobile for this and the suit blocks the camera. D-579: You’re not making this sound very safe really. Rsch Kauhnwallê: No, no, it'll be fine. It’s like the same dosage of radiation as if you were travelling on a plane. It’s fine really. D-579: Well for the record, I hadn’t actually ever been on a plane before until I came here, but whatever, you’re the scientists so I hope I can trust you guys. D-579 removes the suit, shimmying his right arm out the sleeve. He struggles to remove the headpiece. He leaves the clothes on a pile next to him, taking in deep breaths of the air. D-579: Actually feels much better being out of that thing. Air smells so fresh here. Not stale at all like at the sites. It’s… cleaner. Some time passes. Extraneous conversations removed. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Well, we’ve got everything set up here. You can start walking northeastern-ward, towards the direction of the anomaly. D-579: Alright then, moving now (turns and looks behind him before turning back around). D-579 walks briskly through a patch of tall grass, at some point definitely passing through the range of the anomaly and into its main volume. A wooden soviet manor-house begins to appear suddenly into view at the end of the field. No one notices this or comments on it. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Alright, confirming that you have crossed over. Everything's looking fine on our end. How are we feeling? Rsch Tamsin: (Tapping Researcher Kauhnwallê’s shoulder and pointing at a side monitor) still looks stable enough, don't you think that's a little weird. D-579: What's up? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Nothing really, it's just interesting; the Spalder Counter hasn't changed. It shows the amount of existing matter at a given time within space. Usually entering a pocket reality results in it rising since, well, it's new space. But, yeah, no change, which is weird. D-579: So I haven't gone anywhere then? Researcher Kauhnwallê looks towards the monitor for the stationary camera placed at the site, showing a distorted D-579, moving at a perceptibly decreased rate. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Um, no not exactly, just likely means there's more overlap between our realties. D-579: Yeah I mean… looking around I can't really tell, but it feels… noisier. If that makes sense. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Sure, just try to look around as much as you can so we can get a better idea of things. Rsch Leiden: If we are able to somewhat map the space, then it would make our research easier going forwards as well… Rsch Tamsin: Yeah and don't forget about the camera I gave you. Some photos would be nice. Rsch Aminev: ‘Think we've already kinda proven something here, the fact that you can still receive us. Some kind of bypass vector at the entry point. Rsch Tamsin: Yeah I think with most gates, there's always some kind of interference, but the signals are coming out clean. Rsch Leiden: Doesn't interact with light either it seems. Rsch Tamsin: Hm, yeah, but then how is it illuminated exactly on the inside? D-579: …The sun looks the same. Not sure if that helps. I can't really tell. Rsch Tamsin: Well you described a noisy feeling? Could you elaborate? D-579: Well, it's just that for a ghost town, it feels all too lived in. Haunted maybe, that's the feeling, but not haunted like how the rest of the town looks walking through it. It's just, this time, I feel a weight on my chest. Rsch Aminev: Maybe it's your body adjusting itself. Sometimes people feel ill crossing into pocket realities. D-579: Could be, but I wouldn’t say I’m feeling ill, I just feel, heard or something. Rsch Aminev: Heard? Watched, you mean? D-579: Nah, nothing like that… I'll look around that house okay, maybe I am just feeling sick or something. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Hm, okay, well remember to keep us updated on how you’re feeling. It's important we know not only what the anomaly is but how the anomaly affects people. D-579: Mhm yeah, sure thing. (Pauses) Coming up the steps now. D-579 walks along a stone wall and up a set of steps which lead up to a raised wooden porch area with the house’s side entrance. D-579 steps up to the door, opening it with his right hand. The hallway is dark and empty. There are suspended dust particles in the air. D-579: Hm yeah, it smells pretty stale in here. Rsch Kauhnwallê: If you're still feeling bad, it's probably best if you drink some water or something? Right? Rsch Tamsin: Yeah or sit down if you need to regain your energy maybe? Sometimes entering an extradimensional space can tire you out fast. D-579: (Somewhat sternly) Don't worry, I'm fine, honestly, I just had a feeling that's all. Let me look around for a bit. D-579 scans the room with a thoughtful expression. He brushes his right hand along the surface of a cabinet opposite to the dining room entryway as he walks by, wiping away several layers of dust. D-579: It's weird, it… it feels dusty, but the cabinet isn't old, or it just doesn't feel old. It's slick and all varnished and shiny, like it's new. Rsch Kauhnwallê: If time works the same here, then these places really haven't been touched in a decade now, they were left exactly how they were when people left. D-579 timidly picks up a framed picture on the cabinet with both hands, wiping away the dust with his thumbs. It shows a mother and infant child together. D-579: … But they didn't take their photos? Huh. D-579 leans down and opens up the cabinet. It's empty. D-579: I wonder if they took anything really? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Perhaps they were in a hurry. Next to the cabinet is a coat hanger, with an old brown cotton jacket hanging on it. D-579 takes off his backpack, grabbing the jacket and placing it on before retrieving his bag. D-579: Hm, fits perfectly (examining the sleeves). Was getting pretty chilly anyways, and I'm just wearing a jumpsuit. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Hm, yeah, we probably should've thought about that sorry. D-579: This'll do though, no worries. D-579 attempts to flick a light switch. Nothing happens. He turns on his torch and enters the dining room through the entryway. There is a large wooden table in the middle of the room, with 8 chairs around it. Examining the walls. He observes a framed portrait of an elderly male figure on the wall. D-579: These people, anyone important? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Not really, just some wealthy officials and what not. These types of estates appear everywhere. D-579: A house like this for a bunch of unknowns, hm. D-579 notices a tear in the wallpaper, he grabs it and pulls it down, tearing a section from the wall. Behind the wall paper is an identical pattern. D-579: Weird that, don’t you think? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Maybe they just liked that particular pattern? Easier to just go over it rather than tear it all down and replace it right? Silence. Rsch Tamsin: Is something on your mind five-seven-nine? You seem like you’re thinking about something? D-579: Sorry, just that, looking around, I can’t help but feel weird walking around somewhere like this. Don’t you get kind of a nostalgia-vibe? Like, I swear I've seen this exact same wallpaper round my grandparents place when I was like, way way younger. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Well again, this place is very old, maybe you’re just associating the two? D-579: Hm yeah, probably, I mean, they definitely weren’t this fancy for sure (laughs, looking at the large table)… I was just thinking back, seeing if there was any weird relation I could think of. Rsch Tamsin: Yeah, that’s fair enough, be more open if you think you recognise something. That could give us some more detail about what other properties this thing has? As the floor creaks under D-579’s feet, a second pair of audible footsteps can be clearly heard from the second floor. No one appears to notice this. D-579: Ha, yeah sure. I’ll keep looking around, I don’t think there’s much in here though. D-579 looks over at a rotary phone sitting atop a cabinet towards the end of the room. He walks over and picks it up, holding it up to his ear. Rsch Kauhnwallê: I don’t think… D-579: Wait, listen. There's a dial tone? D-579 holds the phone up to the microphone. Rsch Kauhnwallê: …We can’t hear anything. D-579 pulls the phone away. D-579: Huh, I swear there was… Rsch Leiden: (Aside) hey I’m gonna go fill up my cup real quick, okay? Be right back. Rearcher Leiden moves the chair from under the desk. Both of her legs are missing at the knee, with a clean uniform cut revealing inner bone, muscle, etc. No one notices this, and Researcher Leiden is able to stand up from her chair as though her legs were there. She grabs her mug and walks across the room to a small kitchenette desk in the office and pours coffee from a pot into it. The footsteps on the second floor return. No one notices. Researcher Leiden sits back down. She is now missing her right hand, yet is still capable of picking up the mug and sipping it. Rsch Leiden: …We still good on battery life for that camera? D-579: Yeah… hm, still says a hundred percent as well. Extraneous conversations removed. D-579 makes his way to the second floor, and into the master bedroom. D-579: The bed is made. (Checking the wardrobe) And the wardrobe is still full of clothes. Did anyone even leave (laughs)? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Maybe something happened. Maybe they could only leave with the clothes on their back. We can’t know for sure. D-579: Hm, yeah. There’s gotta be something more interesting in here. This room feels far too important. D-579 walks over to the bedside drawers. He opens the bottom one, finding it to be full of books. He quickly reaches inside, grabbing the stack of books by the bottom, but then suddenly recoils. His palms have cuts on them, which begin to bleed onto the floor and down his arms. D-579: Fuck. Rsch Kauhnwallê: What? What happened? D-579: (Looking into the drawer) The bottom… it's covered in broken glass. Why? I don’t get it? D-579 picks a piece out from his hand. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Do you need medical help? D-579: Naw, don’t worry, it’s fine, just surprised me that’s all. Was that like… meant to be a trap or something? Rsch Kauhnwallê: I’ve no idea. Maybe you should sit down for a sec? Rsch Leiden: (Unintelligible) Researcher Leiden attempts to speak, however, the top half of her head is missing, leaving only the base of the skull and the lower jaw. Her tongue and jaw move as though they are producing sound, although nothing can be heard. No one notices the difference. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Yeah, maybe use your first aid kit. D-579 doesn’t pay attention, looking towards the window. He looks out upon several abandoned soviet “rabbit-hutch” apartment blocks in systematic rows that extend on into the distance. D-579: Don’t remember seeing that many buildings out there? There's differences here for sure, something's up. D-579 leaves blood along the windowsill. It doesn't dry. The rotary phone from downstairs begins ringing. No one notices this. Rsch Aminev: (Aside) Nöel, your call? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Right, I have to leave for a second, just keep doing what you're doing. Rsch Leiden: [MISSING_DATA] Rsch Kauhnwallê: Just a few minutes. I’ll be back soon. D-579: (Looking out the window still) Um, yeah sure, I think that area there would be the next place to go to. Rsch Kauhnwallê: …It's your call (he says as he stands up from the desk). D-579 begins to leave the room and downstairs for the front door. Researcher Kauhnwallê walks towards the office door and leaves the room, pulling his personal phone out of his pocket. Outside the office in the hallway, he opens up his contacts list, and begins clicking through dozens of numbers until reaching the letter “m” in the list and clicking on the contact that says “mum”. Researcher Kauhnwallê holds the phone up to his ear. It rings 7 times before someone picks up. Researcher Kauhnwallê talks in a calm and solemn way. Phone: Hello, who is this? Researcher Kauhnwallê takes a deep breath. Rsch Kauhnwallê: It's Nöel, mum? Phone: Sorry I didn't pick up sooner, my hearing isn't that good these days (chuckles), usually it's only my son who calls me sometimes. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Mum, I’m… yeah… does he call often, are you lonely there? Are you doing alright? Phone: Well, I don't think I've seen him in a while really, he doesn't call as much as he used to, why do you ask? Do you know him? Rsch Kauhnwallê: A little, but I was just curious, seeing if you were okay. Phone: Aw, well thank you. He should be getting back from school now actually. Usually he's around to help me with this damn phone anyways. Bought it for me as a birthday gift. Silence. Researcher Kauhnwallê: Would you like it if he called you more? Phone: Of course, I like our chats. It's lonely here since his dad passed. I'm worried it's affecting him. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Mum? Phone: Huh? Oh. What is it sweetie? Rsch Kauhnwallê: That was thirty something years ago, you know? Dad passing? I am over it. Phone: Hm, was it? Feels like it was more recent than that. When do you get back home anyways? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Not sure. I'm quite far away. Very very far away. Phone: Well, it would be nice to have a family dinner again with me and your father. Why don't you take the day off tomorrow, and we can go out into the town centre, buy something you want? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Yeah… sure thing, I'd really love that actually. Phone: Sounds like a plan. Unless you have homework to do, in which case you can stay home (laughs). Rsch Kauhnwallê: Don't worry, I don't mum… I love you. Phone: Love you t… Phone pauses and cuts off. The screen says “no signal”. Researcher Kauhnwallê sighs, puts the phone back in his pocket and enters the room again, sitting back at the desk. Rsch Kauhnwallê: What did I miss? Rsch Tamsin: Nothing much, we’re just walking at the moment. How’s you? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Yeah it was fine. Rsch Aminev: (Aside) How was it? Everything better? Rsch Kauhnwallê: (Aside) I couldn’t tell really, but I think she’s good enough, she remembers our previous calls now, not like last time. Rsch Aminev: (Aside) Mm, yeah that’s pretty good then, I hope Some time passes. D-579: Been making it over to those flats. D-579 wanders through a higher density residential area. D-579: Hm, seems like they were thriving here, no? I see corner stores, everything is empty though. D-579 leans up against the glass window of a store, looking inside. Rsch Tamsin: What’s up? D-579: Is it not weird how nothing is destroyed or broken? There’s nothing thrown on the floor or on the street, the buildings are just old. The shelves are empty, they haven’t been thrown about or nothing? Rsch Kauhnwallê: As much as it doesn’t look like it, this town wasn’t producing any money clearly. It was built to suit the workers of a large government mining corporation, extracting petroleum from the ground nearby. When the USSR collapsed and the mines stopped producing, everyone left? Maybe there just wasn’t anything to put on the shelves? D-579: No boarded up windows though hm? It’s just weird, feels like people should be here, or are here, and they’re just hiding. D-579 puts his backpack on the ground, opening it and taking out a 500ml bottle of water. He holds it. D-579: Anyone else have this killer headache right now? He begins to drink it whole, and does so for 2 minutes. After this he chucks it towards the ground, and water continues to rapidly gush out of the bottle onto the ground. D-579 looks at it confused. D-579: Hm, I… I thought it was empty. D-579 is suddenly holding an open water bottle in his hand. He closes it and places it in his bag. The water bottle on the ground continues to spill out. Rsch Kauhnwallê: You feeling better now that you’re hydrated? D-579: I think so. Would probably be good to check out one of these apartments. It's too cold outside anyways. D-579 walks towards an entrance to an apartment building beside him. D-579: Any specific floor you want me to go to? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Whatever you’re willing to walk, you’ve been doing great so far. We’ve already got a ton of interesting data to go through here. D-579 opens the front door to the lobby. There are two elevators either side of the room and a door to a stairwell. By the entrance is a wall of mailboxes corresponding to each apartment. D-579 walks over and begins to open each mailbox in succession. They are all empty. D-579 opens the mailbox labelled “111”. He pauses as he sees it contains a sealed envelope. Picking it up he sees that who it’s addressed to has been left blank, although he doesn’t comment on this. D-579: I feel bad for doing this but… D-579 tears open the letter. It’s written in Russian. D-579: Well, I can't read this. Maybe we check out this room then, luckily it's only the first floor. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Yeah, sure thing. D-579 wanders over to the stairwell, jokingly pressing the button for the elevator as he walks by. Entering the stairwell, he ascends to the first floor, and opens the door of the right marked “5-11”. The hallway is lined with numbered doors. The walls are an off-white colour and the carpet is old and blue. D-579 walks over to the eleventh room and stands outside the door. D-579: Do you think I should knock? Rsch Kauhnwallê: (Laughs) Well, You can try. I wouldn’t expect anyone to be in though. D-579 tries to turn the door handle, finding it to be locked. He stands back and scans the doors and the hallway, before nervously knocking on the wooden door several times. D-579 quickly stands back surprised. Rsch Kauhnwallê: (Worriedly) What? What is it? D-579: I hear footsteps? Someones moving behind the door. Rsch Kauhnwallê: We can’t pick up anything? D-579: (In Russian) hello? D-579 looks shocked and confused and continues to stare at the door. Rsch Kauhnwallê: You can speak Russian? D-579: Shh, I heard someone. D-579: (In Russian) hello? I can see you through the hole? Who are you? D-579 pauses. D-579: (Quietly) What should I do? Someone’s talking? Rsch Kauhnwallê: I don’t understand what you mean? D-579: (Quietly) I don’t understand what they’re saying, they’re speaking Russian. D-579 walks closer to the door. D-579: Um, hi? D-579: (In a Russian accent) You speak English? What is it you want, why are you outside my house? Rsch Tamsin: (Aside) What’s… happening right now? Rsch Kauhnwallê: (Aside) I’m not sure lets just let it play out and see what happens. D-579: You’re like… the only person I’ve found here in this town. I haven’t seen anyone else, where is everybody? D-579: (In a Russian accent) I don’t know what you mean, you should leave, now. I mean it. D-579: Have you not looked outside? The streets are empty. How long have you been here for? D-579: (In a Russian accent) I shouldn’t be talking to you, I don't know who you are? I’ll call someone if you don’t leave. D-579: Okay okay, just gimme a second… see this letter here, it was in your mailbox addressed to you. D-579 holds up the letter. The person it’s addressed to now says “William Noah”. D-579: The mailbox was just left opened and unlocked. Same with this building's front door. It wasn’t locked; nothing has been except this door here? D-579: (In a Russian accent) I don’t know what it is you want? You’ve come all the way here just to knock on my door and take my letters? D-579: No please, I just want to know what this place is. What this town is even. Why are you the only one here? Silence. D-579: (Calmly) We got off on the wrong foot. What about your name? My name’s Will. All I want to do is talk for a second, that's all. D-579: (In a Russian accent) Hm… Ilenia. My name is Ilenia. What is it you want then? D-579: Could you read the letter? I’m sorry that I opened it but I didn't expect anyone to be around so I thought it would be fine D-579: (In a Russian accent) Whatever, just put it under the door. D-579 bends down and pushes the letter under the doorsill. While a slight force can be seen pulling the letter, it isn’t grabbed on the other end and remains sticking out from under the door. D-579: Thank you, I really appreciate it. D-579: (In a Russian accent) Would you like me to read it out in English? D-579: Please, if you could. D-579: (In a Russian accent) This letter isn’t even about me? Are you sure it’s mine? Is this a letter for you? D-579: It has your name on it, I don’t know. Just, please, can you read it? D-579: (In a Russian accent) Fine, “Hello son, despite everything I’ve tried, wherever it is you’ve been taken is somewhere I can never go. They tell me it’s not a prison, or any government building for that matter, but no matter what I try, I always get turned away. You’ve been taken to some other place, and my heart goes out for you each day. I hope that if I address this letter to that place, someone can give it to you and I can finally tell you how much I love you and how I forgive you for what happened that day, the reason you got taken away. I have no way to fight this legally, I’ve put all our savings into it. I just hope that somehow, wherever you are, you know that I will always love you and that I miss you. Love, mum.” Silence. D-579: (In a Russian accent) Hm, this letter is sweet. Is it for you? Silence. Rsch Kauhnwallê: (Cautiously) Five-seven-nine? Silence. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Will? D-579: My hands are no longer bleeding guys. They’ve… healed, fully. The cuts are gone. Rsch Kauhnwallê: You aren’t speaking to someone anymore? D-579: To who? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Yourself. You were having a conversation with yourself over that letter you’re holding, but it seemed like there was another person? D-579 looks at an open letter he’s holding in his hands. D-579: This letter? I think it’s just some old bank information or something? See, look, it says rubles and it has a bunch of numbers on it. Nothing much I can gain from it really? Rsch Tamsin: (Aside) This is concerning, don't you think? How can it both be stable and yet in flux? Rsch Kauhnwallê: (Aside) I don’t know why? That’s why we have to search harder. There has to be some central point to this place. Rsch Tamsin: (Aside) Hm, yeah… let me go get something really quick from the storage room, I think it could help. Rsch Kauhnwallê: (Aside) Sure, yeah, I think we should avoid the apartments from now on though. Rsch Tamsin: (Aside) Yeah, probably for the best. Researcher Tamsin gets up from her seat and begins walking to the door. She turns around to speak quickly. Rsch Tamsin: Hold on, have we che… Rsch Kauhnwallê: What was that? D-579: Hm, nothing, I didn’t say anything? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Oh, sorry, my bad. Thought I heard something. This building is pretty old, the pipes make strange noises all the time. They sound like voices sometimes. D-579: Right… should we move on now? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Uh, yeah, sure thing, if you can’t find anything else? D-579: Yeah, all these doors are locked though, nothing I can do here really. D-579 exits the hallway door and is outside suddenly in a grassy field. He steps out into it. D-579: Damn my head feels like it's throbbing… Alright then, moving now (turns and looks behind him before turning back around). D-579 walks briskly through a patch of tall grass up towards the house. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Alright, confirming that you have crossed over. Everything's looking fine on my end. How are we feeling? [MISSING_DATA]: (Tapping Researcher Kauhnwallê’s shoulder and pointing at a side monitor) [MISSING_DATA] D-579: What's up? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Nothing really, it's just interesting; the Spalder Counter hasn't changed. It shows the amount of existing matter at a given time within space. Usually entering a pocket reality results in it rising since, well, it's new space. But, yeah, no change, which is weird. D-579: So I haven't gone anywhere then? Researcher Kauhnwallê looks towards the monitor for the stationary camera placed at the site, showing a distorted D-579, moving at a perceptibly decreased rate. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Um, no not exactly, just likely means there's more overlap between our realties. D-579: Yeah I mean… looking around I can't really tell, but it feels… noisier. If that makes sense. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Sure, just try to look around as much as you can so we can get a better idea of things. [MISSING_DATA]: [MISSING_DATA] [MISSING_DATA]: [MISSING_DATA] [MISSING_DATA]: [MISSING_DATA] [MISSING_DATA]: [MISSING_DATA] [MISSING_DATA]: [MISSING_DATA] [MISSING_DATA]: [MISSING_DATA] D-579: …The sun looks the same. Not sure if that helps. I can't really tell. [MISSING_DATA]: [MISSING_DATA] D-579: Well, it's just that for a ghost town, it feels all too lived in. Haunted maybe, that's the feeling, but not haunted like how the rest of the town looks walking through it. It's just, this time, I feel a weight on my chest. [MISSING_DATA]: [MISSING_DATA] D-579: Could be, but I wouldn’t say I’m feeling ill, I just feel, heard or something. [MISSING_DATA]: [MISSING_DATA] D-579: Nah, nothing like that… I'll look around the house okay, maybe I am just feeling sick or something. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Hm, okay, well remember to keep us updated on how you’re feeling. It's important we know not only what the anomaly is but how the anomaly affects people. D-579: Mhm yeah, sure thing. (Pauses) Coming up the steps now. D-579 walks along a stone wall and up a set of steps which lead up to a raised wooden porch area with the house’s side entrance. D-579 steps up to the door, opening it with his hand. The hallway is dark and empty. There are suspended dust particles in the air. D-579: Hm yeah, it smells pretty stale in here. D-579 looks towards the end of the hallway. He notices a white door at the end of it. D-579: I think it’s just some old house. That… that over there seems more interesting, however. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Sure, yeah whatever you think you should do. Any information I can get would be handy. D-579 walks slowly towards the door at the other end of the hall, cautiously stepping closer and closer. He opens the door and steps out into a street in the suburbs. In the distance is an impossibly tall concrete cuboid structure extending into the sky. D-579: That building in the distance, does that look normal to you? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Probably not. The physics of this reality may be extremely different to ours, remember that. D-579: Yeah, but I wonder who put it there. D-579 continues to wander out into the street. There are semi-detached homes along both sides of the street. D-579: This place doesn’t feel very… soviet? Don’t you think? Rsch Kauhnwallê: I wouldn’t really know. Architectural history is not my forte unfortunately (laughs). D-579: Just feels like I got deja vu, or an intense nostalgia for something, I’m not sure. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Do you think that's just because of the way it looks or do you think it’s the anomaly causing it? D-579: Honestly couldn’t say. I don’t feel like I'm being manipulated? Researcher Kauhnwallê grasps his phone in his pocket, pulling it out and looking at it with a confused expression. He puts it on the desk in front of him. D-579 turns a street corner and observes a stationary ambulance further down the street. Its lights are flashing rapidly, and a stretcher can be seen outside the doors of it. Researcher Kauhnwallê continues to look at his phone, ignoring the monitors in front of him. D-579: Hey doc? Do you know what’s happening here? I don’t know what any of this means? Rsch Kauhnwallê: Hm? Um… yeah I don’t know. Reality is quite an undeveloped discipline. D-579: I don’t think I should go over there? Rsch Kauhnwallê: This place isn’t a hostile place from what we can tell. You’ll be safer if you just confront it. D-579 approaches the ambulance. It sits outside a house that has been completely burned down into rubble. The charred remains of the house are all that’s left. The stretcher outside the ambulance has a black bag laid out on top of it. D-579: This… What is this? D-579 stands on the opposite side of the street. He holds his head. Researcher Kauhnwallê clicks onto his contacts list. The only contact on the phone is one labelled “mum”. He rings the number. D-579 stands back in fear and recoils away from the black body bag. D-579: I don’t like this. I wanna leave. The phone rings 7 times and then stops. The phone shuts down and loses power. Rsch Kauhnwallê: (Looking back up to the monitor) You know the only exit is back through the house right? The body bag suddenly begins to writhe, thrashing on top of the stretcher, until it topples onto its side. Simultaneously the camera's lens shatters and the monitor is covered in cracks. D-579 falls onto the ground on the street and curls up on his side. D-579: I can’t go back. I just can’t, I won't. Rsch Kauhnwallê: You should rest for a while, get your energy back up. These things are difficult sometimes. D-579 stays on the ground for some time. Several hours pass. The sun begins to go down, and the sky gets darker. D-579: Doctor, are you still there? D-579 sits up. D-579: Doc? D-579 gets to his feet and brushes the dirt off his clothes. He looks towards the burnt house, but it is gone. He begins to wander down the street, towards the concrete structure. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Five-seven-nine, where are you going now? D-579: I can’t go back… There is no back. I need to go forward. Rsch Kauhnwallê: I already have too much data than I know what to do with, or even know how to interpret just by myself. You can leave the anomaly if you want. Someone will be waiting for you. D-579 ignores this and continues forwards towards the structure. It has a round entrance leading into it. Rsch Kauhnwallê: Are you sure you want to go further in? This time it could be dangerous. D-579: I’ll be fine. I always end up fine. Rsch Kauhnwallê: But you might not be, why can’t you accept that? D-579: Because this time it’s different. D-579 walks right up to the circular entrance. It consists of a dark tunnel, with no light penetrating further than a couple metres. He looks up at a placard above it. D-579: Hm… Rsch Kauhnwallê: What… What does it say? I can't read it. D-579: Nineteen. It says nineteen. Some time passes. Rsch Kauhnwallê: You know that at some point, once you enter, you can't leave? D-579: I know, it’s something I’ve known my whole life. This is it. This has to be. D-579 sniffles. An unidentified charred human arm penetrates through the darkness of the tunnel, seeming to reach out for D-579’s hand. D-579: I have to do this… Goodbye, doc. I’ll see ya’ around. D-579 grasps the hand and walks into the tunnel entrance. Rsch Kauhnwallê: See you around too, five-seven-nine. Silence. End Log ▶ Restricted Access Level/5 - Internal Memo ▼ Restricted Access Level/5 - Internal Memo Foundation RU Internal Memo 2024 Unknown Surface Depressions Affecting Foundation Site Infrastructure and Logistics Hello everyone, Since 2004, the continued presence of several large scale depressions within ground surface layers throughout eastern Europe has affected the infrastructural and logistical operations of the many Foundations sites and areas. Structural faults due to the sudden presence of unstable terrain forming beside or underneath buildings have been reported, as well as major delays due to depressions affecting roads. Foundation vehicles are therefore unable to deliver personnel or resources to the required sites, leading to issues with site resources management and allocation. Attempts to manage the deficit via the use of drones or air vehicles has provided additional challenges due to the harsher climate. Additional maintenance teams have therefore been put on standby at several more prominent locations across eastern Europe for faster response times. The source of these depressions is unknown and may be ectoentropic in nature, some researchers suggest. Effects on civilians have been equally difficult to deal with. Urban infrastructure has suffered, and local governments are struggling to meet demands to fix these issues. Director Kauhnwallê Footnotes 1. The furthest point of the exclusionary zone. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8579" by Unobtainium235, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8579. 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-8580 | safe | 3 SCP-8580 Instances Item #: SCP-8580 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8580 instances are to be stored in a safe containment unit at Site-633. Description: SCP-8580 denotes baroque1 pearls distinguished by their comparatively low conchiolin and high mucin contents. Instances are hollow, containing a small pocket of stale air at their centers instead of a solid nucleus.2 These factors render SCP-8580 instances fragile in comparison to commercial counterparts. Discovery: The Foundation became aware of SCP-8580 during the seizure of an abandoned warehouse containing a surplus of SCP-8058 instances. As the warehouse was cleared, it was found to also contain a crate with 2293 SCP-8580 instances. Though personnel were able to trace the serial number on the crate back to North American Creations Co.3 its regular commercial output did not match the low quality of SCP-8580 instances. This inconsistency necessitated a full scale audit of all of the company's assets, staffing, and communications, flagging the following report within the central office of Sr. Director Bill Spencer: Branch Report - Larkton, Illinois Consultant: Godfrey Changez Notes: In any other case I would start my report with a good faith calculation of the expected value of the queried branch, arrange my projections for the future of the asset, and direct the hand of the client to the best measure as to maximize the economic utility of the asset. I pride myself on professional impartiality, that is to say, but I simply cannot adhere to that good faith in this case. Upon my entry to the facility I was met with the stale air that works its way into all concrete monoliths, lacking windows for fresh air, or even natural light. A dreary silence, underscored by a familiar annoyance at the ticking of an analog clock, flicking to the beat of the apathetic trudging of the workforce beside me. They fit the mood exactly, each of them plain faced with their computers and briefcases in hand, practiced in winding the grey walls of the block to their allotted meetings, cubicles, what have you. And there I stood, amidst it all in the grand open entry hall, this wave of despond still managing to weave its way mindlessly around me. No thoughts to the foreign body, I suppose. I too was there for a job in the end. Perhaps they already recognized me? It was a short talk with the secretary at the front desk. I identified myself and they gave me a room number and some directions. Third floor, first room on the left. And it was a dismal little thing, but all the necessary figures were provided. Of course it wasn't ideal, but you can't expect high-rise offices at every deployment. This was work after all, a good employee is ready to put aside such trivial annoyances. And doing so, I began to chip away. Being in this line of work, you develop a sort of sixth sense for how an asset will unfold. Glance at some tables and graphs, plug them into some of the crowd favorite models, and an educated man can get a quick sense of how a company is functioning, if at all. I preface this to say, this company should not have been functional at all. I don't know what to say. The numbers just didn't add up. It was baffling, seeing the expenditure sheet. The layers upon layers of mediation, jobs filling tables provided by other jobs prodding models using data from tables just the same going down layer after layer after layer. Three tiers of middle management. No human resources department. And must I repeat, so many redundant low level jobs. I had been sitting there for hours, so baffled at the structure I was reaching a breaking point. I just couldn't get it to click. I needed to ask someone why it was all like this. I had to find someone with a modicum of power, but I was besides myself how to even begin to broach the levels of hierarchy at play here. Notice, I didn't even talk to anyone proper on the way in- and that's fairly conventional. But I'm here on their behalf, so they always make themselves known to me. Really, it's the barest level of respect to someone who could be pivotal in the continued existence of so many jobs. I couldn't wait a moment longer. I stepped out into the hall. Directions were absent from my mind as I attempted to retrace my way to the elevator with no avail, rather, happening upon a large room filled with cubicles. I could see the work they were doing first hand now. Trivial. Tedious. I could see it on their faces that they knew it too, bored out of their minds, but trying not to zone out. Glancing around, sneaking in bites of a small snack, then being startled when a nearby printer began to scream out for another table to be sent upstairs, downstairs, or the next room over. None of them talked. None of them even noticed me. I just walked round what must have been hundreds of people all tapping away at their assigned task, desperate to look busy. I found my way to a side hallway that I could have swore was the way to the elevator, but it was yet more concrete walls. More horrible off white carpet and more stuffy concrete corridors turning sharp to another hallway lined with more little offices for slightly-more-higher ups, and ending, would you guess, at yet another identical block of cubicles. I watched as one of the offices opened. A man; didn't notice me. He was walking slightly in front of me as I approached the new cubicle block, following that same ticking pace as he stepped on the noise dampening, slightly abrasive carpet. I lingered as he spoke to one of the office workers. Buzzwords. Low profit quarter. Might be layoffs soon, or maybe lower pay. Don't worry about that though, you do great work. A fake smile. I'm going to need that report on my desk by tonight. I don't ask questions, I just expect it to be done- And then I was out of earshot. I hadn't noticed it before, but these middle-managers we're all around the place, just slightly lingering at the corner of every few cubicle blocks. All making the same idle conversation. Looking at screens. Looking at people. That passive prodding, keeping them on their toes. Keeping them efficient. If I didn't have my file with me, I might be worried that I didn't look busy enough for them. I sped up slightly. The eyes were starting to wander to me. They'd recognized me. Lingering to much, an irritant, getting in the way. I ducked into a bathroom. I looked into the mirror. Felt horrible, skin clammy, eyes strained and stressed from the flicking of fluorescent lights that faded into the background. I exhaled a breath I didn't realize I was holding, then noticed it. In here, it was quiet. Almost silent. I'd been blocking out all those grating little sounds from the greater office, all the ticking, crunching, idle tapping, everything, but the bathroom here it was silent, and now that bothered me too. I washed my face off quickly, then stepped back out. On my right was a man with presence. He wore a suit, carried himself like he was someone, and what's more, he saw me. Eyes fixed to the back of my skull through my own eyes, my own kin, in a moment, cutting me up and weighing my worth. We began to walk, chatting. He thanked me. I'd been doing such great work already, and they were looking forward to the good valuation. He wanted to know how I found the place. I said it was great, efficient. He nodded. He really appreciated the work I was doing, he insisted that fac. He was wondering if I would be interested in a permanent position. It would be a great change of pace from what I was doing already, a good, solid, office job, but I said no. We exchanged a joke about benefits, a wink and nudge. He tried once more, he knows a diamond in the rough when he sees it. His own sixth sense, like a shimmering nacre in a halo around truly worthwhile people. He grabbed my shoulder. We were alike in that way, the true kings of society, creating value by seeing where the value sits and closing in on it, clamping shut on those loose gems before anyone else could snag them. We were in his office. I don't remember the elevator trip. My skin was clammy. I refused to shake his hand. Said, I'm not feeling so great. You know how it is, jetlag, travel for a living but I never get used to it. Laugh. Do not shake his hand. That's a shame. It's the end of the work day. Hope to see your report on my desk soon. Down the elevator. Someone bumped into me on my way out, spilling a cup of cold coffee, sticky and wet, all over my suit. I looked into his face. Gaunt, bags in the eyes, looking wildly about at everything except me as he fervently apologized. I, of course, assured them it was no issue, but I wasn't really paying attention to whatever niceties we each threw. Instead, all my focus was fixed on a strange spherical lump protruding out of the back of his left hand. I almost pointed it out, but the man was ready to hurry away. Back to work; overtime. I continued on my way out. It's ruined now, that suit, can't get the smell off of it. Not just the suit, everything I was wearing. Shower after shower and I still feel clammy, congested and sticky. I did not go back the next day. I had all I needed, figures so absurd, culture so constricting, absolutely no products of worth. Raze it to the ground for all I care. The building is worthless. Recommendation: Immediate Liquidation of All Assets Inquiry into the existence of a NA Creations Larkton branch were largely unsuccessful, locating only a building within the Larkton area that vaguely matched Changez's description.4 Field agents sent to investigate noted scrape marks across various walls within the building, but it was otherwise completely empty, and no records regarding its construction or prior ownership could be found. Initial attempts to contact Changez by phone failed, prompting a house visit. Deployed Field Agents found the home in a state of neglect, specifically noting that the mailbox was filled with letters, all of which were from NA Creations by way of Sr. Director Bill Spencer.5 Gaining forced entry into the home, the interior was found to be in a similar state of neglect, with more letters found strewn across various surfaces in piles.6 None had been opened. Changez was located dead within his personal office, holding an opened letter. Foundation coroners report an unclear time of death, as the body was in a state of complete desiccation. The cause of death, however, was clear, as an abnormally regular SCP-8580 instance was located lodged within his aorta. SCP-8580-α ("Changez") Footnotes 1. Non-spherical due to inconsistent layer formation. 2. Oysters and mussels form pearls as a defense against irritants, like sand or parasites, that enter their bodies; secreting layers of aragonite and conchiolin around them. 3. Known to be in ownership of numerous small-scale pearl farms among its other holdings. 4. Maximum capacity: Approx. 2250 employees. 5. Letters promised Changez employment at various new branches of the company. None of these branches were found to exist in any credible capacity. 6. The earliest letters found inside were dated approximately 5 years prior. |
SCP-8585 | neutralized | The people may not remember me, but that does not mean I have forgotten them. oritiefling, ariadnesthread Did you enjoy the article? Please check out our other works! Ori and Ari Item#: 8585 Level2 Containment Class: neutralized Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo Special Containment Procedures: Following Dreamscape analysis in combination with health reports from the months preceding SCP-8585's disappearance, SCP-8585 was declared deceased as of January 24th, 2028. No further containment procedures are required. +View archived containment procedures. – hide block SCP-8585 has agreed to GPS tracking by the Foundation and to date has respected Veil Integrity Protocols. As a result containment procedures have remained at passive monitoring and monthly physicals at Site-58. SCP-8585 is not permitted to leave the civic boundaries of Nanticoke, Pennsylvania. All monitoring of SCP-8585 is overseen by the Foundation Department of Anomalous Ambassadors. Description: SCP-8585 is a humanoid entity resembling a heavyset elderly man of Slavic descent. His physical features have been inconsistent since the anomaly initially came to Foundation attention, however he has been consistently described as "glowing", or as having a halo of light around his head. SCP-8585 identifies himself as Daždźboh, a member of the Slavic pantheon, typically as the deity associated most with solar cults of worship.1 He is far older than he physically appears, having been mentioned in several historical texts and showcasing detailed historical knowledge dating back as early as 940 CE. Addendum 8585.1: Partial List of Notable SCP-8585 Sightings Date Location Appearance Notes c. 940 CE Kievan Rus' Noted to have a sun-shaped insignia 'finely embroidered' upon his tunic when present at several triumphs of Slavic rulers, including Olga of Kyiv's legendary revenge upon the Drevlians after the murder of her husband. Appearances are only implied poetically in the Laurentian Codex of the Primary Chronicle, or 'Tale of Bygone Years'2, one of the few pre-Christian historical accounts of Slavic history. However, an instance of SCP-7028-3 believed to be the complete original text written by the monk Laurentius in the Eleventh Century CE makes the appearances of Daždźboh explicit, noting that the god's presence at the Conversion of Vladimir the Great to Christianity marked the final sighting of the god in Kyiv 'for several generations'. It should be noted that this passage was excised completely from all surviving, non-anomalous manuscripts, although poetic invocations and descriptions of the god in various statuary (and thus ever-present at the royal court) of Slavic palaces remain. Jan. 1569 CE Lublin, Rzeczpospolita Polska Described as a 'towering man with a shining, golden beard, with a brightly woven sun on his tunic and a great war-hammer by his side.' Identification confirmed by the private writings of the personal secretary of Mikołaj Radziwiłł3, who was able to speak with SCP-8585 briefly and was so deeply impressed by the 'bearing and power' of the man that he believed to have been in the presence of 'a saint or divine, if only for a moment.' c. 1917-22 CE Paris, France Described as an extremely tall, rotund man fluent in several Eastern European languages as well as French, English, and German. Manner typically reported as reserved, although often described as possessing a 'piercing gaze' that unsettled some, particularly those who traveled in the Russian royal circles. Noted to be part of the Paris social scene by several émigrés4 in various communications and memoirs over the course of several years, usually under the pseudonym 'Khors Svitlo'. Physical appearance remains consistent over the years, although sightings decrease sharply between 1921-1922. It is implied but not outright stated that it had ceased to be invited to certain social events amongst the émigré community. Apr. 1933 CE New York, United States First signs of greying at its temples, although beard remains a bright orange. When not speaking directly with any person, shoulders seem slightly bowed, postured stooped, but straightens immediately upon being addressed. Wearing black, thick-framed prescription eyeglasses with his beard more neatly trimmed than previous descriptions. First Foundation contact with SCP-8585. Although present at a celebration party for the repealing of the Volstead Act, it is noted to be somber and withdrawn from others gathered. Jun. 1967 CE San Francisco, United States Both hair and beard are now best described as 'salt-and-pepper', although features and behaviors were described by observers as animated and lively. Wearing a bright red shirt with an animated, idealized sun wearing sunglasses and giving a 'thumbs-up' gesture. Present at multiple points during the 'Summer of Love' movement, especially in Tompkins Square Park for various concerts, as well as assisting the Free Clinic during the apex of the movement. Dec. 1991 CE New York, United States Hair and beard are both now pure white, as confirmed by SCP-8585 itself. Appears to have shrunk somewhat in height, although shoulders are still quite broad. First sighting of SCP-8585 without some form of an idealized sun visible on his person, although the backdrop for photographs did have several similar insignias. SCP-8585 was working as a 'Santa Claus' at Lord & Taylor Department Store. When approached by Foundation agents, stated that it was doing so 'to see the smiles on the children's faces' and that it required nothing more. Feb. 2025 CE London, United Kingdom Posture quite stooped with visible bowing of shoulders, considerable weight loss, age marks visible on forehead as hairline has receded several inches. Due to increasing concerns about SCP-8585's overall health, containment procedures updated to a smaller area for free movement (specifically the Nanticoke area of Pennsylvania near Site-58). Addendum 8585.2: Incident Report On December 23rd, 2027, SCP-8585 was reported leaving the geographic boundaries established as part of its containment procedures. SCP-8585 was tracked and reported to be heading eastward from Nanticoke, Pennsylvania. Agent Basil Sias from the Department of Anomalous Ambassadors was dispatched to intercept and, if possible, recontain the anomaly. Agent Sias was able to intercept SCP-8585 at a civilian port on the northern banks of the Delaware River, attempting to board a ship southbound towards New York, New York. Below is a log of this interaction as recorded by Agent Sias's bodycam. [BEGIN LOG] Agent Sias approaches a line of civilians waiting to purchase tickets to board a ship. SCP-8585 is quickly identified in the crowd. SCP-8585 makes eye contact with Agent Sias and frowns. Agent Sias responds with a wave and weaves into the crowd to escort SCP-8585 aside. He leads SCP-8585 away from civilians into a secluded area of the shipyard. Sias: Before anything else I wanna apologize for dragging you off like that. I know it's standard procedure, but I feel gross every time I do it. SCP-8585: It is… fine. SCP-8585 sighs heavily. SCP-8585: I knew it was an errand for a fool anyway. You always catch up sooner or later. Sias: You're a little far from home, Daz. What brings you all the way out here anyway? SCP-8585 rolls up its sleeve. A fist-sized patch of flesh over its shoulder appears to be distorting and fading. Sias: Daz, I- SCP-8585: You and I both know what this means, Mr. Sias. SCP-8585 walks over to the edge of the pier and sits. It pats the ground next to it. Agent Sias walks over and sits beside it as it takes out and lights a cigarette. SCP-8585: Do you smoke? Sias: No, no. Well, when I was a kid for a bit, yeah, but no not anymore. SCP-8585 shrugs. SCP-8585: Suit yourself. SCP-8585 takes a deep drag of the cigarette and exhales. SCP-8585: I thought I was going to be afraid of becoming that. It motions to the smoke. SCP-8585: It is not so scary, not anymore. I suppose it helps that I have felt it coming for some time now. Sias: All of your vitals have reported normal for years now. What makes you say that? SCP-8585 pounds its chest. SCP-8585: You feel it. Inside. Part of being a god is hearing all of those tiny voices echoing in your ear from those who praise you, beg things of you. For newer gods they are near maddening in their endless chirping, but the older you become the more they comfort you. You are remembered, you are needed! SCP-8585 takes another deep drag from its cigarette. SCP-8585: You do not notice at first when the chirping begins to vanish. There is too much after all, too many voices to pick out individual sounds, but as the years pass you begin to notice the choir growing quieter and quieter. I ask you, Mr. Sias, what happens to a god with no voice in his ear? Agent Sias is quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on the horizon. Sias: …He vanishes. SCP-8585 claps a hand on Agent Sias's back, nearly knocking him into the river. SCP-8585: That is it! Yes, he vanishes. Poof! A cloud of smoke and ash. No longer wanted, no longer needed. Worship keeps the divine alive, worship makes something divine. SCP-8585 sighs heavily once more. SCP-8585: I have not heard anything like a choir since the 15th century, Mr. Sias. Now the voices grow quiet, I hear but a fistful of people who still spare a passing thought for me. SCP-8585 chuckles. SCP-8585: There was a time once where I would think it impossible. Fading away? Me? I am Daždźboh! I am the very light of day! But even day fades to night, Mr. Sias. SCP-8585 looks at the horizon, watching as the sun sets. Sias: So what was the plan, then? SCP-8585: I wanted to return to the old country, Mr. Sias. I figured if I was to die, I would rather die at home than in a foreign land. Give myself one final kindness. The people may not remember me, but that does not mean I have forgotten them. The two sit in silence for several moments as the sun finishes setting. Eventually, SCP-8585 looks upwards. SCP-8585: Do you like stars, Mr. Sias? Sias: I do, yeah. They remind me of an old friend. SCP-8585: In my younger days I did not care for them. How dare they try to shine as bright as I! And the moon, how dare she take my light for her own beauty! Hah, what a petty young man I was indeed. Now you cannot even see the stars at night. If I had known that someday the light of man would outshine us both, perhaps I would have appreciated them more. Sias: If you get far enough out of the city, you can still see them. My dad used to tell me that the sky is beautiful in the middle of the ocean, and I know that out in the country you can almost see the sky the way it was meant to be. It'll never be the same as when you were young, but it's still beautiful. SCP-8585 chuckles. SCP-8585: I would quite like to see that. SCP-8585 coughs and snuffs out its cigarette as Agent Sias rises to his feet. Agent Sias reaches out and helps SCP-8585 up. SCP-8585 slaps his hand away. SCP-8585: Bah, I got it. SCP-8585 struggles to stand back up. After a moment, Agent Sias extends his hand once more. SCP-8585 takes it. SCP-8585: I was a young man once you know. Made of strong stock, and handsome to boot! Guess it's time to say goodbye to stubborn pride, eh? He glances towards the horizon. SCP-8585 and Agent Sias stand in silence for a moment. SCP-8585: I suppose it's time to head back then. Agent Sias bends down and reaches for the GPS tracker around SCP-8585's ankle. SCP-8585: Mr. Sias…? Agent Sias removes the tracker. SCP-8585: What is all this? Sias: The Foundation already failed you by letting you fade away. We could've done more to keep you alive, and we didn't. The least we can do is let you die the way you want. SCP-8585: …Aye. SCP-8585 and Agent Sias nod to one another. SCP-8585: …Thank you, Mr. Sias. May your kindness be remembered. Sias: It won't be, but that's alright. Take care, Daz. I hope the stars at home are beautiful. SCP-8585 smiles, and walks away. Agent Sias returns to his vehicle. [END LOG] A month after the above recording, an envelope was sent to Site-58 with no return address. Inside was a postcard addressed to Agent Basil Sias, the front containing a photo depicting a wide shot of a landscape, and the back containing a handwritten message reading "It really was beautiful." Image from the front of the postcard sent to Site-58. The photo is believed to originate from somewhere in the Ukrainian Carpathians. Footnotes 1. Дажбог (Ukranian) was one of the few religious beings with textual and archaeological evidence of pre-Christian era worship throughout all known Slavic tribes. 2. Повѣсть времѧньныхъ лѣтъ, c.850-1150 CE. 3. Nicknamed 'The Red', Voivode of Vilnius, capital of Poland-Lithuania, 1515-84 CE. Noted to be functionally illiterate, this unknown secretary was present at virtually all of Radziwiłł's diplomatic events. 4. Russian political exiles in Western Europe in the wake of the Russian Revolution. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8585" by OriTiefling, AriadnesThread, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8585. 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: NightSky.png Author: Kulish Kateryna License: Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Night_sky_in_Carpathians.jpg |
SCP-8590 | keter | PlaguePJP: XXXVII by PlaguePJP SCP-8590 — Dale ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} Item#: 8590 Level2 Containment Class: keter Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: {$disruption-class} Risk Class: {$risk-class} link to memo SCP-8590. Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8590 is currently uncontained. While a reality warper, SCP-8590 does not currently pose a threat to the veil. Containment procedures are to be focused on tracking and documenting SCP-8590’s manifestations and behavior until it can be successfully, permanently contained. Description: SCP-8590 is a 32-year-old human male with reality-warping abilities, including teleportation, manifestation of objects, manipulation of a person's memory, and omniscience. SCP-8590 uses the combination of its incredibly powerful abilities to work menial, low-paying jobs. SCP-8590 appears throughout the contiguous United States, usually in the Midwest. How SCP-8590 chooses its locations is unknown; there does not appear to be a pattern. Identification on SCP-8590’s person (name tags, driver's license, etc) only displays the name "Dale." The positions SCP-8590 holds change rapidly based on no known factor; most likely, SCP-8590 simply decides to have a new job and does so. Addendum 8590.1: Discovery and Initial Interactions During an unrelated investigation in Wisconsin, Foundation Agent Sarah Palmers encountered SCP-8590 when attempting to pick up a check from a local Goodwill. GOODWILL SURVEILLANCE VIDEO TRANSCRIPT «BEGIN LOG» (Palmers approaches SCP-8590 in an aisle. She is holding a vase.) Palmers: Excuse me? SCP-8590: Hm. Palmers: Is your manager here? I made a drop-off last week and needed to pick up my check. SCP-8590: He's not here today. Palmers: He said he would be here. Do you know when he'll be back? SCP-8590: Not in my job description to know that. Palmers: Alright. […] Can you tell him to give me a call when he gets back? SCP-8590: I don't really like talking to him. Palmers: You're not being very helpful. SCP-8590: That's your opinion. Palmers: Uh… okay. I was looking at this vase. There's no sticker on it, do you know the price? SCP-8590: Take it. Palmers: Huh? SCP-8590: I wouldn't care if you burned this place to the ground with me in it. Take the vase. Palmers: Okay. Are you sure? SCP-8590: I do not care. Palmers: Alright. Thanks? (Palmers moves towards the exit.) SCP-8590: (Shouting.) The manager's not gonna let you back in the store if you steal that. (Palmers stops, then turns towards SCP-8590.) Palmers: I'm not stealing anything. SCP-8590: You didn't pay for that. Palmers: You literally told me to take it. SCP-8590: I'm not gonna stop you from stealing. I'm just letting you know the manager isn't gonna be happy. He'd probably ban you. Palmers: Then let me buy the fucking thing! SCP-8590: There's no need to use that language, ma'am. (SCP-8590 and Agent Palmers walk back to the cash register.) SCP-8590: Is that all today? Palmers: Jesus fu— yes. That's all. (SCP-8590 scans the vase 100 times. Palmers stares, clearly losing patience.) SCP-8590: That'll be two thousand dollars. Palmers: Are you out of your mind? SCP-8590: No. Palmers: Two thousand dollars? SCP-8590: Yeah. Palmers: That's not odd to you? SCP-8590: I scanned it a hundred times. Palmers: Why the fuck would you do that? SCP-8590: You didn't stop me. I thought you wanted a hundred of them. Palmers: I don't want a hundred vases. I want one. SCP-8590: You should have said that. Palmers: This is fucking absurd! SCP-8590: Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the store. Palmers: No no no. Don't worry. I'm on my way out anyway. «END LOG» PARKING LOT SURVEILLANCE VIDEO TRANSCRIPT «BEGIN LOG» (Agent Palmers' car is being towed.) Palmers: You've got to be fucking kidding me! (Palmers jogs to the tow truck. SCP-8590 is driving.) Palmers: The hell? Are you towing my car because I didn't buy your vase? SCP-8590: Ma'am, that wouldn't make any sense. You double parked in the handicap section. Palmers: No— I… did I? I guess I did. Can you just help me out? SCP-8590: There's going to be a fine. Palmers: How much? SCP-8590: Do you want a hundred cars or just the one? Palmers: Oh my god. Just my car. SCP-8590: Two thousand dollars. Palmers: Are you serious? SCP-8590: I'm just doing my job. Palmers: (Mumbling) Fucking horseshit bullshit. Fuck this. (Palmers retrieves 2,000 dollars in cash from her handbag and hands it to SCP-8590.) SCP-8590: Would you like a bag? Palmers: What? […] Sure? SCP-8590: Okay. (SCP-8590 exits the tow truck and wraps the car in a car-sized plastic bag.) SCP-8590: Have a nice day. «END LOG» PALMERS STATION SURVEILLANCE VIDEO TRANSCRIPT «BEGIN LOG» (Agent Palmers' arrives home. She walks into the kitchen and places the very large plastic bag under the sink. Palmers steps in a puddle, then looks up. Her upstairs shower caused a leak in the kitchen.) Palmers: Motherfucker! (Agent Palmers calls a plumber.) [25 minutes of extraneous footage redacted.] (A doorbell is rung. Agent Palmers approaches the door. SCP-8590 is waiting on the other side.) Palmers: There's no fucking way! Not you again! SCP-8590: I was called about a leak. Palmers: How many jobs do you have? SCP-8590: I'm just trying to feed my family, ma'am. Palmers: Do you know what you're doing? SCP-8590: I'm a plumber. Palmers: Are you accredited? SCP-8590: I am a plumber. Palmers: Oh my god. Oh my god. […] Whatever. (Agent Palmers guides SCP-8590 to the location of the leak.) Palmers: Here. SCP-8590: Hm. Interesting. Palmers: What is? SCP-8590: You have a leak. Palmers: I think I'm losing my mind. (SCP-8590 looks at the leaking ceiling.) SCP-8590: Mhm. Alright. I see. Palmers: What? What do you see? SCP-8590: There's a leak here. I said that already. (Agent Palmers cups her head in her hands.) Palmers: Can— can you fix it? SCP-8590: Yes. This is just a routine pipe replacement. Palmers: Perfect. Thank you. SCP-8590: Wait. Palmers: What's wrong? SCP-8590: One more thing. Palmers: What? SCP-8590: Do you want a hundred pipes or just the one? «END LOG» More From This Author More From This Author PlaguePJP's Works SCPs SCP-8599 (+235) • SCP-8000 (+909) • SCP-6595 (+193) • SCP-7593 (+203) • SCP-6597 (+180) • SCP-5364 (+89) • SCP-7599 (+191) • SCP-8594 (+116) • SCP-7590 (+151) • SCP-8591 (+120) • SCP-7595 (+213) • SCP-6598 (+257) • SCP-7596 (+130) • SCP-5591 (+128) • SCP-8596 (+244) • Tales/GoI Formats HOGSLICE Makes A Friend (+162) • Other PLAGUEPLACE (+192) • |
SCP-8591 | esoteric-class | PlaguePJP: XLIX SCP-8591 — Alex Thorley Doesn't Get Away With It ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} Item #: SCP-8591 Special Containment Procedures: N/A SCP-8591. Description: SCP-8591 was an adult African Elephant that sporadically appeared and disappeared in Researcher Alex Thorley’s office. After the publishing of this documentation, SCP-8591 vanished and has not reappeared in over a year. TRANSCRIPT Thorley: (On the phone) It’s here again. […] Thorley: Maybe it’ll go away. […] Thorley: I didn't do anything. […] Thorley: I didn't do anything wrong. […] Thorley: Fine. (Thorley enters their office. There’s an elephant inside.) Thorley: …I’m addressing you. Rsr. Thorley has been appropriately reprimanded for their undisclosed misconduct prior to this interaction. More From This Author More From This Author PlaguePJP's Works SCPs SCP-6595 (+193) • SCP-8595 (+374) • Plague's Proposal (+356) • SCP-6592 (+79) • SCP-7591 (+192) • SCP-7595 (+213) • SCP-7597 (+142) • Plauge's Proposal (+242) • SCP-5364 (+89) • SCP-6598 (+257) • SCP-6591 (+130) • SCP-8598 (+88) • SCP-7001 (+544) • SCP-6593 (+192) • SCP-8592 (+163) • Tales/GoI Formats HOGSLICE Makes A Friend (+162) • Other PLAGUEPLACE (+192) • ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8591" by PlaguePJP, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8591. Licensed under CC-BY-SA. For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide. Filename: ellingfant.png License: CC BY 2.0 This image is a composite of: Name: Elephant Author: gudi&cris License: CC BY 2.0 Source: Openverse |
SCP-8592 | euclid | PlaguePJP: XLII by PlaguePJP SCP-8592 — The Department Department ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} Item#: 8592 Level2 Containment Class: euclid Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: {$disruption-class} Risk Class: {$risk-class} link to memo A selfie recieved in an email from D. Partment, the self-proclaimed Chair of SCP-8592. Special Containment Procedures: Personnel who receive emails from SCP-8592 are to report them as spam and delete them. SCP-8592 has been integrated into the Foundation because it cannot be removed from SCiPnet servers. It's hypothesized that keeping it occupied with its self-assigned occupation is the best form of containment. Description: SCP-8592 is the Department Department, a nonexistent Foundation department operated by an unknown party. Mentions of SCP-8592 began appearing in official Foundation documents in April 2016, but due to the number of Foundation departments it was listed with, SCP-8592 was not properly noted as a discrepancy until December, when it began sending emails to random personnel members. SCP-8592 is operated by an entity claiming to be a member of Foundation personnel self-identifying as D. Partment. There is no record of anyone under that name existing. The vectors that cause SCP-8592 to manifest are not fully understood, but as of writing, the only definite factor that causes manifestation is when any level of personnel begins a new research project. SCP-8592's behavior after its manifestation follows a consistent pattern: After beginning their research, personnel will receive an email from ten.pics|tnemtrap.d#ten.pics|tnemtrap.d. This email will be a ramble with little to no grammar past proper capitalization of 'The Department Department' and its email signature. The messenger will congratulate the personnel on its research endeavor and assign it to a new, also nonexistent department as its head researcher. The department SCP-8592 assigns its targets to is nonsensical, often taking an insignificant element of the researched anomaly, naming a department after it, and acting as if this is a major undertaking or promotion. The personnel's SCiPnet profile and official documents will be altered to add the SCP-8592-created department into their 'Responsibilities' section. With the number of projects the Foundation undertakes monthly, SCP-8592 manifestation is relatively rare, with it only contacting someone in approximately 1 in every 1000 new official research endeavors. Below is an example email: Hello brother, Hello welcome to The Department Department. I am very happy to meet you. Am seeing here that you are investigating "John," a incoherent man who makes milk in his mouth instead of spit. It is very hard work and you deserve a "good job" speech from everyone around you. We are very pleased to announce that you have been assign to a new department for your good work ethics and research efforts. We saw on the John's intake file that he is ""bisexual"" and has a boyfriend. This is very cool and woke and I promise that I am awake right now so you or john are not uncomfortable ok? you now are the head of the Department of Bisexual Anomalies for research purposes. This is to make it easier on your life my brother. With great power comes great responsibility. D. Partment Chair, The Department Department Addendum 8592.1: SCP-8592-Created Departments Below is an abridged list of SCP-8592-created departments Personnel Affected Anomaly Being Researched Assigned Department Dir. Randall House Reports and video of a physically impossible skateboarding trick at a recent Las Vegas BMX event. The Department of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms Dr. Harold Blank The history of United States-based record labels, during which Taylor Swift was briefly looked into. The Department of White Women O5-4 The corpse of O5-13, which exhibits no signs of physical trauma or medical conditions. The corpse experienced complete cellular death without any discernible cause. Department of Murder (Bloody) Dr. Greg Holmes Sapient crows capable of human speech. Department of Murder (Clean) Dir. Hector Varga An anomalous enzyme appearing in some felines, extending a lifespan well beyond what is considered baseline. Department of Garfield Addendum 8592.2: Contact Due to the Foundation's robust cybersecurity environment, an automatic ticketing queue filtered and deleted emails from SCP-8592. For this reason, contact with SCP-8592 was never attempted. As research progressed on this anomaly, it was decided that communicating with SCP-8592 could potentially develop more robust containment procedures. The most recent contact of SCP-8592, Vincent Kinney, a junior researcher at Site-19, was permitted to reply to SCP-8592. Below is their email exchange Hello brother "Vinny Kinney", Welcome to the Department Department. We are delighted to join you here today. I have attach my I'd for proof and help with any anxiety or fear is right there please look at your convenient —-> We are see here that you are researching for a hamburger stand that teleports from time to time. Yum! This is a very important job for an important man. Since hamburgers have no cheese and cows are evil, you have kindly been appointed Head of the Department of Lactose Intolerance. Congratulation! It is a great honor. You are welcome. D. Partment Chair, The Department Department Hi Mr. Partment, I'm somewhat confused by this email. Can you please explain what is going on in more depth? Thank you, Vincent Attention: Vinny Kinney Oh boy can I go in depth. I'll put it this way so please kindly listen and do not interrupt. You are researching a hamburger stand and Hamburger stands sell hamburgers. I hope we can agree on that my brother. The hamburgers are made of beef but do not contain cheese as it would be a cheeseburger. They put cheese in the name to clean up that whole kerfuffle. I have a hypothetical. Suppose a handsome man named John walks into this hamburger stand and says, "Hello, please get me a hamburger." Now if Tom gets a cheeseburger instead he will be upset because he didn't get the hamburger he spent his hard earned United State dollars for. Also cheese is lactose they say so in the science. Following? Back on Tom. If he gets his cheeseburger instead of a hamburger I don't think Tom or anyone with a working brain for that matter will tolerate it. As the head of the Department of Lactose Intolerance you can't stand it. Kindly take this matter seriously and please take up your post in your assigned department. D. Partment Chair, The Department Department Mr. Partment, If we're getting this specific, wouldn't it make more sense to assign me to The Department of Teleporting Hamburger Stands? "The Department of Lactose Intolerance" seems insignificant compared to the anomaly at hand. Sincerely, Vincent Vincent, You have been kindly and generously offer an amazing position of chair of a department and you have spat upon my face and are bringing me to tear in my eyes with this "department of teleporting hamburger stands" nonsense. Please do not bring this up again. I would like to know what sick individual guy came up with this and poison your mind with this nonsense department. Please sincerely leave this department naming and assigning to the Department of Naming and Assigning which is led by me and is run under The Department Department which is also led by me. D. Partment Chair, The Department Department Mr. Partment, Speaking of, I've been interested in joining The Department Department as a junior researcher. Can you give me some of the qualities you look for in a prospective employee? Sincerely, Vincent Hello Vincent, I am very sorry but you already seem to be very busy with The Department of Lactose Intolerance. It would making me just awful to put more work on your schedule as this can lead to burning out and a visit to the psych ward. If you must be knowing the Department Department is very sacred and we only accept people who have trust and are: nice swell cool dudes in general and often like departments are okay with my dog she is named debarkment have at least twenty years of department experience I kindly advise you to begin your work in the Department of Lactose Intolerance and take this seriously. D. Partment Chair, The Department Department Mr. Partment, I feel that I fit these qualities. I have 25 years of experience heading multiple departments,1 I like dogs, and people always get along with me. Please, if there is an opening I ask that you consider me. I feel I'd be a great help. Sincerely, Vincent Hello Vincent, Am looking at your file currently as I write this.2 I hate nonsense and immaturity and it is clear that you are a no good dirty liar and illiterate. There is no where on your written file that says that you were head of any department before I kindly and generously assigned you to the Department of Lactose Intolerance. Please do not lie to me again or stop texting me ok? I am writing this while I am reading your file I am very good at multi tasking and it makes me happy to see that you are doing good work at the SCP foundation with your researching anomaly and those that are like that. Your most recent assignment looks very interesting and I don't believe I have read what it is your studying in this research assignment so I will do that now. oh no. good bye. D. Partment Chair, The Department Department It's assumed that SCP-8592 saw Researcher Kinney's assigned research project on it and ceased all communication with him as a result. Multiple attempts to resume communication with SCP-8592 were attempted, but all were fruitless. Following this, SCP-8592 entered a standard dormancy period. Three weeks later, Kinney received another email from SCP-8592, which is below. Hello there Vincent It is very nice to meet you ! We see here that you are doing very interesting research and welcome to the Department Department. You are a very strong man who deserves to be recognized for his hard work and fortitude my brother. We are happy to report that The Department Department has assigned you to to the chairman of The Department of the Department Department. This is your job now thank you and good bye. Please kindly do it well. Good luck! Dan Partment Chair, The Unemployed Department Researcher Kinney's personnel file was updated to include "The Department of The Department Department" and "The Department Department" as responsibilities. Since then, e-mails sent by Researcher Kinney have seen a 23% uptick in spelling and grammar errors. Footnotes 1. Kinney was instructed to lie. 2. Employee files are encrypted and require a password to access. How SCP-8592 gained access to these is unknown. More From This Author More From This Author PlaguePJP's Works SCPs SCP-8591 (+120) • SCP-6595 (+193) • SCP-8000 (+909) • SCP-6591 (+130) • SCP-6593 (+192) • SCP-7591 (+192) • SCP-7599 (+191) • SCP-5787 (+276) • SCP-5593 (+107) • SCP-7001 (+544) • SCP-8597 (+170) • SCP-8599 (+235) • SCP-6594 (+121) • SCP-7597 (+142) • SCP-7590 (+151) • Tales/GoI Formats HOGSLICE Makes A Friend (+162) • Other PLAGUEPLACE (+192) • |
SCP-8593 | euclid | PlaguePJP: XLIV by PlaguePJP SCP-8593 — Pasta with Fazool ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} Item#: 8593 Level3 Containment Class: euclid Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: {$disruption-class} Risk Class: {$risk-class} link to memo SCP-8593 title card, featuring SCP-8593-1. Special Containment Procedures: All broadcasts of SCP-8593 are to be promptly removed from public view and recorded by Site-322 archivists. Foundation web crawlers are to scrape and eliminate any references to SCP-8593 from online sources. Containment specialists are actively searching for the origin of SCP-8593 broadcasts and the location of SCP-8593-1. Containment of SCP-8593-1 will proceed upon the completion of these investigations. Description: SCP-8593 is a series of television broadcasts for "Pasta with Fazool," a cooking show focused on Italian American cuisine. SCP-8593-1 hosts SCP-8593 and is a victual1 humanoid entity self-identifying as "Fazool Cavatelli." SCP-8593-1's body is composed entirely of dry pasta; its torso is constructed from a bundle of spaghetti, while two pieces of penne form its arms. SCP-8593-1 possesses human hands, which are incongruent with the rest of its composition and each other. Its head is a large meatball, capable of limited facial expressions and speech in English. SCP-8593-1's outfit changes between episodes, though these changes appear limited to commonly colored or patterned aprons and matching toques. SCP-8593-1 appears on SCP-8593 as a poorly keyframe-animated puppet, a characteristic never acknowledged by it or any guests who treat it as a baseline human while also recognizing that it's composed entirely of food. It moves with jerky, unnatural movements, with parts of its body often disconnecting from each other. SCP-8593-1's hands constantly change size, shape, and skin color to accommodate different gestures or movements. Despite this, SCP-8593 can interact with physical objects, including human guests and various cooking utensils. Lighting does not affect SCP-8593-1, giving it a flat, two-dimensional appearance at all times. Despite SCP-8593-1 claiming SCP-8593 is focused on Italian American cuisine, all presented materials, including recipes, origins of said recipes, and Italian history differ significantly from any traditions known on Earth. No source for SCP-8593 broadcasts has been discovered. Addendum 8593.1: SCP-8593 Episode Catalogue EPISODE 8593.1 Segment 1 Dish: Fettuccine Alfredi Baseline Counterpart: Fettuccine Alfredo2 Notes: SCP-8593-1 gathered 12 men of various ages named Alfred or Alfredo, proceeding to dump the uncooked ingredients used in Fettuccine Alfredo on them. After dragging its finger across the arm of the third Alfredo and tasting its "dish," SCP-8593-1 handed each man 10 dollars, receiving positive responses from all when it asked, "same time next week, right?" EPISODE 8593.2 Segment 1 Dish: Aren'tcini Baseline Counterpart: Arancini3 Notes: This segment is almost entirely incomprehensible, starting with SCP-8593-1 pulling invisible objects out of a deep fryer. Attempts to explain the dish lead to SCP-8593-1 trailing off into various nonsequiturs and having to be reminded by the film crew as to what it's cooking. The camera lingering on the dish for more than a few seconds leads to exponentially visible distortions. SCP-8593-1 eventually calls the segment off as it grows more confused. Segment 2 Dish: Sfogliatelle Baseline Counterpart: Sfogliatelle Notes: SCP-8593-1 spends the entire segment attempting and failing to pronounce Sfogliatelle. Segment 3 Notes: SCP-8593 also responded to a letter its production studio received. TRANSCRIPT «BEGIN LOG» SCP-8593-1: Someone sent me a letter telling me that my recipes made no sense and were, and I'm quoting here, "disgraceful." (An unseen studio audience is heard booing.) SCP-8593-1: Part of cooking is taking criticism and seeing where I can improve. I wasn't mean or harsh; I was receptive. I sent this person — I'm not going to say their name — a letter back asking them to send me their favorite Italian American recipe. So, the next dish I have to show you guys is Elaine DiRenzo from Syracuse's 'Spaghetti and Meatballs.' You guys tell me what you think. SCP-8593-1: First, we take three different ground meats, pork, veal, and beef, and mix them— (The audience makes sounds of shock.) SCP-8593-1: Ladies and Gentlemen, please just stick with me. We take these, and we mix them together. (SCP-8593-1 places the meats in a bowl and kneads them together with its hands. Someone in the audience is heard retching.) SCP-8593-1: Now, we're going to take this food and roll them into spheres. Clap if you like spheres. (The audience is silent.) SCP-8593-1: Interesting. (SCP-8593-1 rolls the meat into 24 meatballs. It proceeds to fry them in a cast iron pan.) SCP-8593-1: I have some marinara warming up in this pot. Folks, if you're squeamish, I'd recommend looking away. (SCP-8593-1 moves the cooked meatballs into the sauce pot. The audience makes sounds of shock. Two are heard retching loudly, and one is heard screaming incomprehensibly. SCP-8593-1 retrieves a plate of cooked spaghetti as the meatballs cook in the sauce.) SCP-8593-1: Now, ladies and gentlemen, we will plate. (With a ladle, SCP-8593-1 receives spoonfuls of marinara and three meatballs, placing this on top of the Spaghetti. The entire audience screams in apparent horror.) SCP-8593-1: I know. I know! But, we're people of science here and we take all criticism on this chin. Should I try it? (The audience loudly responds in the negative.) SCP-8593-1: I don't particularly want to eat this either, but our unnamed person considers this her signature dish. I think it's only fair. (SCP-8593-1 cuts into the meatball with a fork, piercing it, then twirling the prongs around the spaghetti, picking up a few pieces. It then places the food in its mouth. Someone in the audience is heard crying.) (SCP-8593-1 vomits off screen.) SCP-8593-1: What sick person would serve this and call it Italian American cuisine? Elaine DiRenzo from Syracuse, leave this stuff to the experts next time. (The audience claps loudly.) SCP-8593-1: I'm going to clear this out, and when we return, I'll be making us some delicious Rizzotto. For all my married people in the audience, I hope you took those vows seriously! «END LOG» EPISODE 8593.3 Segment 1 Dish: Spaghetti Pugliese Baseline Counterpart: Spaghetti Bolognese4 Notes: SCP-8593-1's hands are replaced by boxing gloves. The segment follows SCP-8593-1 "in the wild" fighting the sentient ingredients used in Spaghetti Bolognese. After nearly being beaten to death by the final ingredient (a large carrot), SCP-8593-1 returns back to the kitchen set. A stagehand appears on screen, whispering to SCP-8593-1. It responds, "Puglia is a place?" and "It sounds too close to pugilism. I think most people would make that mistake." SCP-8593-1 exits the frame in apparent anger. Segment 2 Dish: Calzone Baseline Counterpart: Calzone5 Notes: SCP-8593-1 stands silently on a cattle pasture for thirty seconds. It then states, "I'm in the cow zone." Segment immediately ends. EPISODE 8593.4 Segment 1 Dish: Shrimp Fra Diavolo Fra Diavolo Baseline Counterpart: Shrimp Fra Diavolo6 Notes: The recipe, for the most part, is in line with normal Shrimp Fra Diavolo. SCP-8593-1 is joined by a humanoid entity resembling contemporary depictions of the devil, which stares at SCP-8593-1 for the entirety of its time and doesn't move. Segment 2 TRANSCRIPT «BEGIN LOG» SCP-8593-1: And I'd like to thank my dear friend, Mr. The Devil, for joining us today. What did you think of the dish, Lucifer? (The entity resembling the devil does not respond.) SCP-8593-1: That's great— (The entity vanishes in a plume of smoke.) SCP-8593-1: I— Alright. Our next segment— Stagehand: We just got an email. SCP-8593-1: Go ahead. Stagehand: It's from Janine in Utah. She says, 'I cannot believe what I’m seeing on the Food Network! My family and I tune in every afternoon after my kids get home from school, and I am appalled by the blatant use of demonic symbolism in your programming. This is absolutely disgusting and completely contrary to the values we uphold in our home. I refuse to support a network that promotes such inappropriate content. I will be taking my viewership elsewhere and expect a formal apology for this offensive display.' SCP-8593-1: Triangulate the IP. Stagehand: We can't just do that. (SCP-8593-1 walks off set.) SCP-8593-1: Triangulate it! (A cut. SCP-8593-1 is standing at the door of a suburban house. It knocks. A woman in her early 40s answers, Janine Johnson.) SCP-8593-1: Hi, Janine! Johnson: What's— SCP-8593-1: Cook for me. Johnson: What? SCP-8593-1: You have things to say about how I run my show and cook my meals. You should cook for me. Johnson: I'm not going— SCP-8593-1: Cook for me. Johnson: Are you going to let me finish a sentence? SCP-8593-1: Yes. Just did. Johnson: Okay. I'm not— SCP-8593-1: Cook for me. Johnson: I'm calling the police. (Johnson slams the door in SCP-8593-1's face. SCP-8593-1 bangs on the door.) SCP-8593-1: You're so much better than me, huh? Cook me something, Janine! Cook me something! (A bleep censor is heard for 43 continuous seconds as the film crew moves away from the SCP-8593-1, who is still banging on the door and screaming. SCP-8593-1 kicks a garden gnome and approaches the film crew.) SCP-8593-1: And, uh… that's why we leave it to the professionals, ladies and gentlemen! (SCP-8593-1 moves out of frame.) SCP-8593-1: (Mumbling) [CENSORED] stupid [CENSORED] thinks she knows what she's talking about. I'll run my [CENSORED] show the way I always have. «END LOG» EPISODE 8593.5 Segment 1 Dish: Woke Ziti Baseline Counterpart: Baked Ziti7 Notes: SCP-8593-1 prepares a baseline Baked Ziti. It makes various references to "Frosty the Snowman-ing this thing." After removing it from the oven, the entity places a top hat on the dish, which somehow causes it to gain sentience. The dish states that its pronouns are they/them, proceeding to go on a rant about Donald Trump as SCP-8593-1 nods its head in agreement with its various statements. Segment 2 Dish: Chicken Mussolini Baseline Counterpart: Chicken Marsala8 Notes: SCP-8593-1 prepares a standard dish of Chicken Marsala, with the only oddity being the size of the chicken breast being 2 meters in length. SCP-8593-1 proceeds out of its set and into a busy city square. It places the dish down in the middle of the pavement. The segment continues for two hours as various members of the public beat, shoot, and spit on the dish. SCP-8593-1 retrieves the dish, smells and tastes it, and then states, "Perfetto." EPISODE 8593.6 Segment 1 Dish: Feast of the Seven Million Fishes Baseline Counterpart: Feast of the Seven Fishes9 Notes: SCP-8593-1 enters the set panting, wearing the Santa hat instead of its toque. It states that it, the film crew, and the live studio audience will stay indoors for their safety. The show cuts to news footage of hundreds of massive fish swimming in the air through various metropolitan areas, eating fleeing members of the public. Segment 2 TRANSCRIPT «BEGIN LOG» (News footage cuts back to SCP-8593-1 in its kitchen set.) SCP-8593-1: So, ladies and gentlemen, all the recipes I had planned for today forced me to be outside, and you all know that won't work out, right? (Applause from the audience) SCP-8593-1: I don't want us to get cabin fever, so my film crew has decided that we're going to do a live Q&A from the questions and comments left on our Pasta With Fazool Facebook page. Give me the first one. Stagehand: From George in Iowa, 'Does this guy have any idea what Italian food actually is?' SCP-8593-1: Big talk coming from the guy in the known and real Italian-American stronghold of Iowa. Bet he's only been to an Olive Garden in his life. Give me something better. Are there actual questions, or is it just more of this? Stagehand: No. Not, uh, not really. We can do something el— SCP-8593-1: No, I'm good. Next comment, please. Stagehand: This is from Gary in New York, 'The woke mob has now infested our cooking shows! I can’t even watch a guy make lasagna without being hit with a lecture on its pronouns.' SCP-8593-1: It was Ziti. Stagehand: There's more, 'Food should be about cooking, not politics. And don’t even get me started on that ANTIFA nonsense with that weird chicken dish. What a disgrace!' SCP-8593-1: Long walk; short pier, Gary. Stagehand: You can't say that. SCP-8593-1: Next comment. Stagehand: From Lorenzo in New Jersey, 'I've grown up in an Italian household my entire life. I raised my kids to be proud of their Italian heritage. How the Food Network is okay with peddling this inauthentic trash as Italian American cuisine is insulting to my people.' SCP-8593-1: Yeah, yeah. They paid me hundreds of thousands of dollars because I have no idea what I'm talking about. That makes sense for a billion-dollar television network to do. Thanks, Lorenzo. I hope your kids didn't get your brain. (SCP-8593-1 is visibly shaking.) Stagehand: Do you— SCP-8593-1: Nope. Keep going. Stagehand: From, uh, Nikki in Pennsylvania, 'Looks like they're giving anybody a show on the Food Channel now. My nonna would wipe the floor with this Fazool guy. He has no idea what he's doing! I've never seen this level of incompetence from any host, cooking or otherwise.' (SCP-8593-1 grabs a metal bowl and slams it into its head multiple times in quick succession, throwing it into the audience and hitting a woman. The audience gasps.) SCP-8593-1: This is complete fucking horseshit. I'm putting my fucking ass in front of these cocksuckers every goddamn day — sweating and bleeding to give these fuckers entertainment every goddamn night. Fuck you. Fuck this. I get no goddamn appreciation. (The audience boos.) Stagehand: We're live, Fazool. SCP-8593-1: It's censored, dipshit. Neil takes care of that. Stagehand: Neil got eaten by one of those fish on his way in. I told you this! SCP-8593-1: Are you serious? Stagehand: Yes! Yes, that was all live. And that woman is bleeding. (SCP-8593-1 looks to the audience.) SCP-8593-1: Fuck. «END LOG» EPISODE 8593.7 Segment 1 Dish: Penne Alla Everclear Baseline Counterpart: Penne Alla Vodka10 Notes: Footage for this video is taken with security cameras in what appears to be SCP-8593-1's house. Several hours appear to have passed, with the sunrise visible in the living room's curtains. SCP-8593-1 cooks a plate of buttered penne, chasing every few bites with a shot of Everclear. It is rendered unconscious before finishing the dish. Footnotes 1. Food-based 2. Pasta in a cream and cheese-based sauce. 3. Deep-fried, breadcrumb-crusted balls of risotto. 4. Spaghetti in a tomato and wine-based meat sauce. 5. A large, baked piece of stuffed, folded-over dough. 6. Pasta in a spicy tomato sauce and shrimp. 7. Ziti pasta in a tomato sauce placed in a casserole pan, topped with cheese, and baked. 8. Floured and fried chicken breast in a mushroom and white wine sauce. 9. An Italian-American traditional Christmas meal focused on seafood. 10. Penne in a sauce made of tomato, cream, and a small amount of vodka. More From This Author More From This Author PlaguePJP's Works SCPs SCP-7595 (+213) • SCP-6596 (+297) • SCP-8598 (+88) • SCP-5592 (+102) • SCP-5596 (+159) • SCP-7596 (+130) • SCP-8599 (+235) • SCP-8596 (+244) • SCP-8594 (+116) • SCP-7590 (+151) • SCP-6594 (+121) • SCP-7591 (+192) • SCP-6595 (+193) • Plauge's Proposal (+242) • SCP-6592 (+79) • Tales/GoI Formats HOGSLICE Makes A Friend (+162) • Other PLAGUEPLACE (+192) • |
SCP-8594 | esoteric-class | PlaguePJP: XLV by PlaguePJP SCP-8594 — Leaves From the Vine ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} Item#: 8594 Level4 Containment Class: uncontained Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: {$disruption-class} Risk Class: {$risk-class} link to memo Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8594 is uncontainable. Individuals affected by SCP-8594 are difficult to locate; if an affected subject is located, standard amnesticization procedures are to follow on them and any living relatives. Description: SCP-8594 is a parasitic anomaly manifesting as the persistent belief that a subject's loved ones will imminently perish. Subjects affected by SCP-8594 are designated as SCP-8594-1. The vectors facilitating the manifestation of SCP-8594 are unknown, as the general fear of losing a loved one does not serve as a trigger for SCP-8594. Despite this, the common characteristics of SCP-8594-1 instances have: Experienced the death of a loved one1 under the age of 15; Are diagnosed with an anxiety disorder; Major depressive disorder is also common; Have a familial history of a genetically transmitted illness; Subjects are often afflicted by this illness; Subjects live >200 kilometers from SCP-8594-2. SCP-8594-2 are persons afflicted by SCP-8594-induced illness. SCP-8594-2 instances can be any age, and symptoms appear within one to two months of a subject being infected. A cure for the SCP-8594-induced illness has yet to be discovered. Below are the stages of SCP-8594-afflicted illness on SCP-8594-2. Stage Description Stage I SCP-8594-2 will be fatigued, often leading to them sleeping for ten or more hours. SCP-8594-1 will remain indoors in waking hours, citing joint and limb pain after extended bouts of moving. Stage II SCP-8594-2 will be unable to keep large meals down, often claiming pain in the abdominal region caused by constipation. Stage III Urged by the SCP-8594-1 subject, SCP-8594-2 will go to a medical facility for a litany of tests. These tests find nothing abnormal with them. In 0.056% of cases, SCP-8594-1 will not pressure SCP-8594-2 to seek medical care. In these cases, SCP-8594-2 returns to full health within two weeks, and SCP-8594 stops affecting SCP-8594-1. Stage IV SCP-8594-2 will be bedridden and unable to move without pain. Small amounts of liquids will be the only sustenance SCP-8594-2 can keep down without expulsion. Stage V SCP-8594-2 will become bloated due to fluid buildup; extremities and limbs will be hard to the touch. The skin and sclera will take on a yellow coloration as major organs begin to fail. SCP-8594-2 will often be placed in a medical facility during this stage. The success of medical intervention varies, often based on the presence of SCP-8594-1. Absentee instances of SCP-8594-1 have caused the onset of the final two stages to be significantly prolonged. Stage VI Subject will go into a temporary coma, lasting no longer than seven days. Minor communication will be possible, with SCP-8594-2 smiling, nodding, or frowning in response to verbal information. Sustenance will need to be delivered intravenously. Blindness in one or both eyes is common, as is the formation of necrosis on the legs. Medical professionals will still have no concrete diagnosis of SCP-8594-2's affliction. Stage VII SCP-8594-2 will be unable to communicate. They will often remain asleep, past small moments of lucidity where they will weakly vocalize pain. Necrosis will continue up the legs towards the lower torso. Full blindness will occur, along with hearing loss and further immobility. All organs will fail, save for the brain, which remains unaffected throughout the illness. Pustules of fluid in the limbs and extremities will expand and burst over time. Analgesics2 will fail to function. Stage VIII SCP-8594-2's heart will stop beating. Despite this, brain scans will show activity as if its unhindered. SCP-8594-2 will remain alive. SCP-8594-2 will not pass until SCP-8594-1 says their goodbyes. Footnotes 1. Grandmother or grandfather are the most common instances. 2. Pain-relief medication. More From This Author More From This Author PlaguePJP's Works SCPs SCP-6593 (+192) • SCP-7596 (+130) • SCP-6595 (+193) • SCP-8599 (+235) • SCP-7590 (+151) • SCP-5592 (+102) • SCP-6597 (+180) • SCP-8590 (+143) • SCP-5594 (+100) • SCP-8597 (+170) • SCP-8000 (+909) • SCP-6594 (+121) • SCP-7599 (+191) • SCP-7594 (+194) • SCP-7597 (+142) • Tales/GoI Formats HOGSLICE Makes A Friend (+162) • Other PLAGUEPLACE (+192) • |
SCP-8595 | safe | PlaguePJP: XL by PlaguePJP SCP-8595 — Everyone's a Critic ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} Item#: 8595 Level1 Containment Class: safe Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: {$disruption-class} Risk Class: {$risk-class} link to memo SCP-8595 consuming an apple. Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8595 is contained in a standard insect enclosure in Site-322's wildlife department. As SCP-8595 does not biologically differ from non-anomalous members of its species, standard temperature regulation and habitat construction have been implemented. SCP-8595 follows a strict diet and will refuse certain foods, see addendum for further information. Description: SCP-8595 is an American cockroach (Periplaneta americana) which believes itself to be a restaurant critic. SCP-8595 is sapient and sentient but is not capable of speech. When presented with any consumable item and any method of writing, SCP-8595 will eat the item and write a review of it, the interior of the location where the item was eaten, the service, and the concept of the "restaurant," combining these elements into a rating out of five stars. It is assumed SCP-8595 either believes itself to be human or that cockroaches should be allowed to eat at restaurants, as seen by multiple complaints on its Yelp about it being run out of restaurants, long waits for seating, being ignored, having items thrown at it, or being sprayed with chemicals. The former is the likely scenario, as references to SCP-8595's insectoid form and the issues of being an insect and attempting to eat a human-sized meal are outright ignored or glossed over in its reviews. Addendum 8595.1: Feeding Attempts It was quickly discovered that SCP-8595 would not consume the feed it was given in its enclosure, dubbing it "gutter swill" in a review. While non-anomalous cockroaches can live approximately 30 days without food, it was unknown if this still applied to SCP-8595, given its anomalous state. The loss of SCP-8595 in this way would be considered a breach of Foundation protocol. As a result, Site-322 organized the creation of Café 322, a restaurant made solely to convince SCP-8595 to eat. Item:(s) A fresh Granny Smith Apple Result: After being presented with the apple, SCP-8595 crawled along its surface for 15 seconds before beginning to eat. It then wrote the following review on a nearby laptop. Café 322; A Mess Would you be impressed by a soccer player bragging about their kicking ability? No, I wouldn't think so. Being able to kick a ball is below the bar I expect from a professional athlete. A restaurant announcing its use of fresh ingredients conjures similar feelings in me. At Café 322, that thought of "okay, what else?" remains lingering throughout the dining experience. Café 322's idea of fine dining follows along the lines of a less-is-more concept. Constraint is the boon of creativity, and I can appreciate when an artist can operate within cramped walls and create something beautiful despite it. Café 322's understanding of the less-is-more concept led them to drab, blank walls, a cold, artless metal table, uniforms that invoke the feeling of being at your 9-to-5, and blinding hospital lights. I was lucky enough to be offered the chef's tasting menu. Imagine my rage and dismay when I was presented with a single green apple on a white plastic plate. Between the time it took for the server to walk this "course" from the kitchen to my table, the apple fell to its side and was disgustingly placed back upright by said server. I'm left at a crossroads; I can continue with this review, relaying the taste of an apple all of you have eaten in one form or another during your lives, or I can do what Café 322 did and stop trying before I even get started. After this sentence, it should be clear which road I went down. ★☆☆☆☆ Despite being told Café 322 listened to its critique, SCP-8595 refused to consume any meal produced by the restaurant "out of principle" and reassumed its hunger strike. Foundation researchers transformed an unoccupied dorm in one of Site-322's sub-levels into a concept restaurant inspired by minimalism entitled 'MAL.' Item:(s) "Crisp tortilla with powdered oaxaca cheese and spices,"1 "Deconstructed BLT,"2 "Dessert Eggs"3 Result: SCP-8595 was given each item one at a time and consumed parts of each while taking notes in between courses. MAL; ICIOUS What I've always enjoyed about the artform — yes, artform — of culinary expression is how a head chef, owner, et cetera can imbue themselves into a product and give their patrons a sense of who they are. MAL does no such things, taking minimalism to its extreme to the point I'm unsure of what the artists behind this work are trying to make me feel. Black, windowless walls, cold, ice-white marble tables, uncomfortable metal seating, and deliberately boring plating left me feeling I entered more the uncanny valley than I did a high-end restaurant. MAL offers a seasonal chef's menu, which I attempted to indulge in. The first course, a twist on nachos, as it was described to me, was tortilla triangles, fried and seasoned with a spice mix. The chips were cold, as if they never touched oil, but punched me with a lot of flavor. This was my favorite dish, specifically for the odd blue seasoning4 a few chips had sprinkled on them. These were few and far between, but the flavor of this blue seasoning was absolutely delicious — I would eat a bowl of this alone. The deconstructed bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich bored me. I'm at a loss because I'm sure everyone here has had a BLT in their lives, and it's arguably a perfect sandwich. MAL, in its desire to conquer God, reinvented this perfect sandwich and made it a hassle to eat properly. These two dishes display my most glaring qualm: I do not mind eating with my hands. However, there should be a reason. I could have very easily been presented with a BLT, but no, that wasn't different enough. The "Dessert Eggs" were an interesting idea but were executed poorly. I've never been a fan of molecular gastronomy; I was once presented with small, caviar-sized orbs of a red liquid in a bowl and was told it was tomato soup. These dessert eggs were flavorless, tasting more of sweetness than anything else. When I asked my waiter what the flavors were (the eggs were in all different colors and had no discernable theme or pattern), she picked one up, smushed it between her fingers, smelled it, told me "buttered popcorn," and then ate it herself.5 That level of care told me all I needed to know of MAL. Good ideas and some good flavors, but bad execution. ★★☆☆☆ SCP-8595 again entered a hunger strike, refusing to try the "new chef's menu" at MAL, retry Café 322, or eat its Foundation-supplied sustenance. This continued for three days. After discussing with Overwatch Command, researchers were given carte blanche on SCP-8595's containment. Under a Foundation front company, Site-322 recruited a Michelin-starred chef to create and prep a three-course meal. A subbasement floor was torn down and reconstructed into "Red Bell" with oversight from three Foundation interior designers. The space was crafted to resemble a high-end American steak house, with custom-made wooden paneling on the walls, a full bar, hand-built tables, and imported cutlery. Researchers Julliane and Julian Hoover were trained to be servers and were given formal uniforms. Item:(s) Beef tartare served with bell pepper slaw, jalapeno spears, raw egg yolk, capers, beef bone marrow, and crostini. A Wagyu tasting, consisting of three thin and seared pieces of Japanese A5 wagyu, Australian Wagyu, and Kobe beef with a wasabi crema. Prime rib topped with lobster meat accompanied by Yukon gold mash, beef and lobster au jus, and truffle mac and cheese. Result: SCP-8595 was given each course and a wine pairing. In between each course, SCP-8595 took notes on a provided laptop. While attempting to drink the wine paired with its first course, SCP-8595 fell into the cup and had to be fished out by wait staff. Red Bell; Red Flag If you've been a reader of mine for any length of time, you'll know minimalism or the less-is-more concert has never been my favorite school of thought. I can most definitely commend when a chef works within self-imposed constraints to give their guests the best time, and I have enjoyed minimalist restaurants. Red Bell is a maximalist restaurant. Everything in Red Bell — from the waitstaff to the tables, from the bar to the plates my meals were served on — kicked and screamed of the need to be taken seriously. It was almost too perfect that I began questioning if I was, in fact, in a real restaurant. Describe a high-end steak house to your friend who's never heard of restaurants before, and then have that friend tell an alien that same information. What the alien creates will not be too dissimilar to what Red Bell I was presented with. The Beef tartare was chewy, and with every chew, I was reminded that I was eating a dead animal. The bell pepper slaw was a tasty addition, but I expected to see more bell pepper from a restaurant named Red Bell. This is the only time you'll see any bell pepper on any dish. The Wagyu tasting was, of course, good. It's Wagyu; it's the best steak you can get in the world. The insultingly small rectangles of meat I was given were cooked to a nearly perfect medium rare. I will not give a steak restaurant their commendation for serving me the best meat in the world and respect myself as a critic afterward. I can buy Wagyu from a butcher and cook it just as well, and it would taste just as good. If this restaurant sold only their sauces, they'd receive five stars from me. The wasabi crema was a treat that cut through the fattiness of the wagyu, though slightly muted in flavor. The monstrous prime rib meal displays every single issue I have with Red Bell and is the antithesis of fine dining condensed down into a singular course. This entire meal was as if they went to the streets of the Las Vegas strip and asked the drunken men and their plastic surgery-riddled wives what they just spent five thousand dollars on in some gaudy, overpriced embarrassment of a restaurant. Who, in their right mind, puts lobster meat on a prime rib? Who, in their right mind, serves rich, buttery mashed potatoes with rich, buttery truffle mac and cheese? Everything on that plate, by itself, was good — maybe even great (The au jus, of course, was the star). I can not, in good conscience and as someone who respects the culinary arts, recommend anyone partake in this sham of a restaurant. ☆☆☆☆☆ SCP-8595 resumed its hunger strike, refusing to eat at any of the above restaurants despite protestations and attempts to reason with it from researchers. Another meeting with Overwatch Command was held, and new restaurant ideas were floated, but it was assumed that the Foundation's efforts would be in vain. After the data from all SCP-8595's reviews were compiled, a pattern was established, and a new and likely final restaurant was organized, "Carpaje." Item:(s) Site-322's dumpster was moved indoors and placed in an empty supply closet. Result: SCP-8595 was laid inside, reemerging after two hours and nineteen minutes. CARPAJE Scrumptious. ★★★★★ Footnotes 1. Nacho Cheese-flavored Doritos arranged in a circular pattern. 2. A leaf of lettuce, a slice of bacon, a slice of tomato, and four Ritz crackers served in separate bowls. 3. Various Jelly-Belly branded jelly beans placed on the rim of a plate. 4. Mold. 5. This is an exaggeration. As the plate was being delivered, one of the jellybeans rolled off and was caught by Researcher Julianne Hoover, who ate it. More From This Author More From This Author PlaguePJP's Works SCPs SCP-6598 (+257) • SCP-7592 (+222) • SCP-7594 (+194) • SCP-5592 (+102) • SCP-8000 (+909) • Plague's Proposal (+356) • SCP-8599 (+235) • SCP-5595 (+535) • SCP-7591 (+192) • SCP-8598 (+88) • SCP-7593 (+203) • SCP-7001 (+544) • SCP-8594 (+116) • SCP-7596 (+130) • SCP-6593 (+192) • Tales/GoI Formats HOGSLICE Makes A Friend (+162) • Other PLAGUEPLACE (+192) • ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8595" by PlaguePJP, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8595. 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: cock.png Name: Cockroach on an apple Author: Neil Turner License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Flickr |
SCP-8596 | neutralized | PlaguePJP: XLVI by PlaguePJP SCP-8596 — Scopophobia: The Employee of the Month ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} Item#: 8596 Level2 Containment Class: safe Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: {$disruption-class} Risk Class: {$risk-class} link to memo SCP-8596-1's containment chamber. Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8596-1 is contained in a remote house in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey. Twice a year, a member of Site-322 personnel is to travel to this location and perform an interview with SCP-8596-1. This person is to have the following on their person at all times: Mnestic pills, taken once every hour when within the vicinity of SCP-8596-1; Non-lethal weaponry; Standard body camera; SCP-8596 documentation. SCP-8596-1 is equipped with a locked mechanical collar that houses two small Scranton Reality Anchors. This collar is remotely monitored and controlled by Site-322's surveillance console. Should SCP-8596-1 remove this collar, personnel are to trigger the panic button on their body camera, attempt to peacefully exit the containment chamber, and travel back to base. SCP-8596-1 is to be entertained in conversation as long as this collar remains on. As a former member of Foundation staff, a cordial level of familiarity is expected for its comfort in conversation. All interviews should ultimately lead the assigned staff to question what SCP-8596 is. On rare occasions, SCP-8596-1 will initiate a conversation about SCP-8596. After this line of discussion ends, assigned staff are to excuse themselves politely and exit the containment chamber. SCP-8596-1. Description: SCP-8596 is [REDACTED]. SCP-8596-1 is a humanoid entity identified as Dr. Erik Ramsey. SCP-8596-1 was initially contained in Site-322's anomalous containment before being employed as a Foundation interrogator as part of the Integration Program. SCP-8596-1 is a Class III reality bender, enhanced empath, and telepath capable of altering localized reality at will. SCP-8596-1 can read minute expressions, physiological changes, and physical processes of any subject that interacts with it. Though limited, SCP-8596-1's telepathy allows it to view the memories of a subject in real-time, meticulously taking notes while doing so. After an incident relating to its integration in Site-322, it was discovered that SCP-8596-1 could remove and implant the memories of its subjects at will, though it can not read memories directly. As a result of this and negotiations with Site-322 management, SCP-8596-1 was moved to its containment chamber in the Pine Barrens, a home built with its reality-warping capabilities. Addendum 8596.1: SCP-8596-1 Interview Researcher George Ambrose was designated as SCP-8596-1's interviewer for the second half of 2024. He was given the above SCP-8596 documentation and deployed to SCP-8596-1's containment chamber on October 13th, 2024. TRANSCRIPT «BEGIN LOG» (Ambrose enters the house hastily. SCP-8596-1 is seated on a couch, scribbling on the day's crossword. Logs are smoldering in the fireplace behind him. He glances up at the door before turning to his newspaper.) Researcher George Ambrose. SCP-8596-1: I have a pot roast in the oven. It should be done in five. (Ambrose grabs a chair and sits close to the fireplace. He shivers as he removes his gloves before holding his hands towards the logs.) SCP-8596-1: I've been having trouble getting that started — the fire. (Ambrose grabs a nearby bottle of lighter fluid and douses the logs. Shakily grasping a lighter he brought, he fails to create a spark. On the third flick, the lighter ignites, and Ambrose touches the flame to the logs and sits back into his seat.) Ambrose: I just need a minute, Erik. SCP-8596-1: You're still allowed to call me that? Ambrose: It's encouraged. For rapport. SCP-8596-1: I see. Nevertheless— (SCP-8596-1 stands and moves to the oven.) SCP-8596-1: —I believe the roast is done. Care to eat? Ambrose: I'm not hungry. SCP-8596-1: How long was the trip? Ambrose: Twenty-six hours. (SCP-8596-1 takes the roast out, tasting it, and placing it on the counter.) SCP-8596-1: So you're hungry, then. And if you were told not to take anything from me, imagine what eating with me would do for our "rapport." (Ambrose pops a mnestic pill in his mouth.) (Ambrose and SCP-8596-1 sit across from each other, eating silently. Ambrose removes a sheet of paper and a pen from his pocket.) Ambrose: Can we start? SCP-8596-1: Talking? I'd love to. Just one moment. (SCP-8596-1 moves to a liquor cabinet. He pulls a bottle of bourbon out along with two glasses from the freezer. He pours himself and Ambrose a drink. Ambrose doesn't touch it.) Ambrose: Name. SCP-8596-1: You know my name. (SCP-8596-1 holds his drink in the air, motioning for a cheers. Ambrose ignores the request. After a moment, SCP-8596-1 downs his drink and pours himself another.) Ambrose: It's to make sure you still know your name. SCP-8596-1: Erik, E-R-I-K, Ramsey, R-A-M-S-E-Y. (Ambrose makes note.) Ambrose: Age. SCP-8596-1: Sixty-four. (Ambrose makes note.) Ambrose: Have you had any violent thoughts lately? SCP-8596-1: Why are you here? Ambrose: To do this interview. SCP-8596-1: You know, Director Lague came here not too long ago. Apparently, he almost destroyed 322 with some machine he commissioned. Before him was Doctor Mooney, accused of embezzlement with that gumball machine they insist helps the Site. And before that was Julian after some creature got loose in his section. You weren't sent here on your merits; even with this collar on, I can tell that. Ambrose: I drew the short straw. SCP-8596-1: Am I that unappealing? (Ambrose is silent.) SCP-8596-1: What did they tell you? Ambrose: That you lost it. SCP-8596-1: That's a roundabout way of saying it, but sure. Ambrose: You want to have a conversation? Sure. Why don't you tell me what happened? SCP-8596-1: Have you had the pleasure of meeting the former Leandra Pollock? ETHICS COMMITTEE INQUEST ACCUSED: Doctor LEANDRA POLLOCK SUMMARY: DR. POLLOCK is accused of the following: Facilitating the death of Researcher TED FRANKLIN after she suffered a nervous breakdown; Attempting to dispose of the corpse of FRANKLIN, which was covered in anomalous research material, against the guidelines created by the Acroamatic Abatement Department; Threatening security personnel with an anomalous artifact so they would remove the incident's video footage; Forcing said security personnel to consume a toxic cocktail of unprocessed amnestics, leading to permanent memory complications for those affected; Desertion. SCP-8596-1: My abilities, as cliché as it may sound, are a blessing and a curse. I could look around a bar and figure out which woman I had a chance of bringing home just by the twitch of some muscle on her face or the way her eyes dilated in the light. I wasn't employed— Ambrose: Integrated. SCP-8596-1: —integrated for no reason. Ambrose: I never denied that. SCP-8596-1: The curse of my whole ordeal is just that: I know people too well. I read that report the Ethics Committee gave me, and I knew it was over for her before then. Someone had it out for her. Just by reading that, I knew. Even with the collar, I still see it. (The interrogation chamber has been altered by SCP-8596-1, appearing as Leandra Pollock's office.) SCP-8596-1: To be honest with you, I didn't quite like Ted. (Pollock is silent.) SCP-8596-1: One thing I've always disliked about this Site — not that I know any of the others — is that it's a little lax here. Pollock: I guess. SCP-8596-1: I enjoy professionalism. Even though I'm being forced to do this with you, I take it seriously. It's a job. Pollock: I take my job seriously. SCP-8596-1: That wasn't the implication I was aiming for. Site-322's problem is that it doesn't place stock in professionalism. Paul is more than willing to shove a real problem into Doctor Coix's desk while he goes off to contain "funny" anomalies like children do with Pokémon. Pollock: Hmph. SCP-8596-1: "Hmph," what? Pollock: Just a hmph. (SCP-8596-1 squints at Pollock.) SCP-8596-1: Remind you of someone? Pollock: Ted was a character. [2 HOURS REDACTED FOR BREVITY] Pollock: It was focused on submolecular studies. I was tasked with creating a way to destroy something efficiently from the atomic level. Something 43 wanted to ease their disposal of anomalous material. SCP-8596-1: Was it ever finished? Pollock: I placed it on the back burner. (Silence.) SCP-8596-1: I understand the pressure you're under. Pollock: Meaning what? (SCP-8596-1 snaps his fingers and the room's security cameras disappear. Only audio is available.) SCP-8596-1: Would you say that this has alleviated the pressure? Pollock: […] I would. SCP-8596-1: I need you to work with me, and I can alleviate even more pressure. Pollock: The microphone you have on your chest isn't helping much there. SCP-8596-1: For once, someone read my mind. (SCP-8596-1 powers his microphone off.) [30 MINUTES PASS] (Cameras and microphones reactivate. Pollock is lying on the floor, crying, as SCP-8596-1 comforts her. SCP-8596-1 nods to one of the cameras before security teams invade the room and remove Pollock. The office layout dissolves, appearing like fading ocean waves as the interrogation chamber comes back into view.) Afterword: Dr. Leandra Pollock has admitted to the incidents that led to her arrest. Ambrose: What's wrong with that? SCP-8596-1: She didn't do it. Ambrose: She didn't do it? SCP-8596-1: I — allegedly — placed the memory of the events in her head and, uh, she— she was decommissioned. Ambrose: Jesus Christ. Why the hell would you do that? SCP-8596-1: I told you, they had it out for her. Ambrose: You were sent in as an interrogator! Your job was to get the truth. SCP-8596-1: That was never my job. My job was to get the answers those at the top wanted. Someone committed this crime, someone covered it up extremely well, and someone needed to take the fall, else they — we — all look weak. Ambrose: That's not— SCP-8596-1: Have you ever been in one of those containment cells? Ambrose: Why are you asking me? SCP-8596-1: Have you? Ambrose: I haven't. SCP-8596-1: I bet no one employed by the Foundation has spent the same amount in a containment cell as some of the "anomalies" they have locked in there. Even with the treats they give us to keep us sane, it's draconian. For me, I was in an eight by eight box, with a cot I was too big for. What did I get to keep me sane? A cracked television with three news channels, three crossword puzzle books, human interaction with guards for around three minutes total per day, and a record player without any music; all of my requested records were on "back order." Ambrose: I didn't know any of this. SCP-8596-1: That wasn't even the worst part! My reality anchor was wired into the same switch that controls my room's light. I begged and pleaded for those poisonous, blinding, buzzing lights to be turned off for just an hour, just one hour so I could sleep! They refused out of fear I would break out. Ambrose: I'm sorry, but— SCP-8596-1: I wasn't going back in there. There's nothing that would make me go back in there. (Armed security personnel surround SCP-8596-1, commanding him to lay on the ground with his limbs spread.) (SCP-8596-1 cocks his neck; the security personnel's weapons vanish. The sector is put on lockdown. He looks to a nearby security camera.) SCP-8596-1: I'm going to let these men leave. After that, I would like to speak with Director Lague. SCP-8596-1: He's a softie for anomalies, luckily for me. We came to an understanding. Ambrose: And you landed here. SCP-8596-1: I did. I was allowed to create a "comfortable environment" for myself before this albatross was hung around my neck. (SCP-8596-1 taps its collar.) SCP-8596-1: Now, I get shipments of some entertainment every month, restock food every week, and peace and quiet. The stress of being locked away forever is gone. Ambrose: You're still locked away. SCP-8596-1: It's a matter of perspective. This is a house I built with my own mind, made for my comfort and mine alone. You, you'll have to go back in that car for a few hours, then in that plane for even longer, and then you'll arrive back to that Site, where you'll work for a minimum of ten hours before going into your dorm, in that same Site, before waking up the next day and doing it all over again. Ambrose: You can't tell I empathize with you? (SCP-8596-1 taps its collar again.) Ambrose: I've never been happy about what we do with anomalies. It's one of those things you need to be aware of while also knowing that it's wrong. SCP-8596-1: So work within the system without changing it. Ambrose: I tried to explain it, not justify it. SCP-8596-1: You know, for the year I was employed— Ambrose: Integrated. SCP-8596-1: —integrated and the months before, when I was just in my cell, I never really met someone who was as outspoken as you were. Ambrose: The main goal of the Director of our Site is what you're hoping for. SCP-8596-1: It's the same containment in a new form. If you wanted to, you could leave today and go home forever. If I tried that when I was integrated, I'd be locked back up. Paul doesn't care about me or any other anomaly; he cares about the optics. How he's able to make everyone see him as the moral Site Director. Only he is able to work with anomalies and, in turn, make them work for the Foundation. The attention you can get from that is astronomical. Ambrose: I don't let my opinions affect the place that puts food on my table. SCP-8596-1: It's good to have morals. You're a diamond in the rough, one could say. Ambrose: I'm another cog in the machine. SCP-8596-1: I told you, opinions like that are a rarity. Ambrose: It means nothing. SCP-8596-1: How so? Ambrose: Empty words. I still work for them. Means nothing. SCP-8596-1: I don't think so. I think you know it means more than nothing. A lot more. Ambrose: Does it? SCP-8596-1: Considering the entirety of this conversation, I think this means a lot to you. (Ambrose is silent. After a pause, he takes his drink and downs it. He gives himself a heavy pour of bourbon, downing it again.) SCP-8596-1: I think this means way more than I can even tell, with or without this collar. PERSONNEL DOSSIER Researcher Kenneth Wilkins. SITE: Site-322 DEPARTMENT: Department of Dimensional Studies CURRENT PROJECT(s): KENNETH WILKINS and GEORGE AMBROSE are researching a process for facilitated transdimensional travel. With the Foundation's current capabilities, travel into alternate, parallel dimensions requires either unmanageable and excessive energy use or a preexisting transdimensional Way being opened by an anomalous force. SCP-8596-1: Seems interesting. Ambrose: It is. It was a lot of fun in the beginning. I didn't really know Kenny too well before this. I think we joined the Foundation the same year but that was about it. It happened that we both had nothing going on and an interest in alternate dimensions. We got on pretty well, all things considered. (Researcher Wilkins is sitting, watching a report on the Wanderer's Library's Ways. Researcher Ambrose is seated across the room in their laboratory, scribbling equations on a page.) Wilkins: Has anyone seen a Way being opened? Ambrose: For the Wanderer's Library? Those are thousands of years old. Wilkins: We have a few millennia-old people roaming around here. Ambrose: There's no way we get to talk to them, ignoring the fact they're not even at the Site. (Wilkins moves to Ambrose and gently places his hand on his back, rubbing Ambrose in a circular motion.) Wilkins: What's wrong? Ambrose: I'm fucking stressed! What are we three weeks— Wilkins: Nineteen days. Technically. (He smiles.) Ambrose: Great. Nineteen days of jack shit. Wilkins: We have a year. Maybe two if we get down on our knees and beg. Ambrose: Yeah, I bet we get that. Wilkins: Such a downer. I guess I'm the only one enjoying our long, exclusive, alone time together. Ambrose: Did I imply that? Wilkins: Just reading between the lines. Ambrose: You're reading wrong. Wilkins: Look, we'll figure something out. Someway and somehow. (Wilkins kisses Ambrose's cheek and returns to his seat.) SCP-8596-1: Got on well, huh? Ambrose: Yeah, yeah. We got on well. SCP-8596-1: I don't really get surprised, at least before this piece of jewelry was put on me, but I'm always, I guess you could say, intrigued by smart people doing smart things. You can show me a motherboard, explain how it works, explain what it does, and explain how each component helps with that, and I'd understand it fully, but if you asked me how someone came up with that, I'd be at a loss. So, how did you figure out transdimensional travel? Ambrose: Funnily enough, the answer was in the Ways. MEETING OF THE OVERSEER COUNCIL (Wilkins and Ambrose are presenting their findings to the Overseer Council.) Wilkins: Now, this oil-slick-looking thing is a Way. As most of you probably know, Ways are doorways into the Wanderer's Library. While anomalous, Ways specifically fall under the umbrella of thaumaturgy, which had led our contemporaries to disregard them as impossible to replicate. Now, with our current findings, we've managed to synthesize the material used to create Ways. (Ambrose powers a fume hood. A beaker of metallic, rainbow-tinted liquid is spilt under the hood. As it sets, it gains its oil-slick appearance.) Ambrose: Before this presentation, I went ahead and placed an item in the dimension this Way leads to. (Ambrose reaches into the Way, pulling a green apple out of it.) Ambrose: It was a convincing presentation, enough to get us some more in the budget department and a few junior researchers to work with us. SCP-8596-1: Couple time was ruined? Ambrose: At this point, I had actually moved out of my dorm and into his place. My sister said it was too fast, but sometimes you just know. SCP-8596-1: I see. What I don't understand is how you go from what I assume is an empty pocket dimension to transdimensional travel. Ambrose: As stupid as it might sound, it's all magic. MEETING OF THE OVERSEER COUNCIL (Wilkins and Ambrose are presenting their findings to the Overseer Council.) Wilkins: On a technical level, the Library's Ways are programmed to enter into the Library and out to the desired location based on a frequency. Every universe emits its own frequency, and each location within that universe has its own frequency all the way down; the trouble is just channeling it. This is something that's like breathing to the Librarians, but for us, it requires much more tuning and failing before we get something workable. (Ambrose retrieves a second beaker of the liquid, takes a brush, and paints a door-sized Way on the wall under the fume hood. He takes a blade from his pocket, whispering in an unknown language at it. It radiates a purple glow as Ambrose slices his hand, rubbing the blood on his palm and fingers. He holds his hand near the Way, struggling to keep it close. He gasps as seven glowing, purple strands of energy shoot from the cut and attach to the edges of the Way. He closes his eyes, and with his other hand, he gently pushes, pulls, and twists the strings.) (Behind the Council, a crack in reality begins to form. Ambrose pulls the final strand and a second Way appears, shaking the room. Wilkins enters the original Way, exiting behind the Council.) (The pair exit the meeting silently, pacing down the hall. Smiles grow on both of their faces They enter the elevator, where they're witnessed celebrating and hugging each other. Wilkins grabs the nape of Ambrose's neck and shouts happily into his face. The pair kiss.) SCP-8596-1: That is amazing. Ambrose: It was, but it still wasn't transdimensional travel. It was a portal on Earth. (Ambrose downs a third glass of bourbon. He pours himself another.) Ambrose: We needed transdimensional travel. It is, at its core, reasonably easy: just grab a different main frequency and build from there. SCP-8596-1: The trouble? Ambrose: Infinite dimensions. Infinite frequencies. It would take me a lifetime to sift through everything available to find just one specific dimension, let alone what the Overseers were asking. This was going to be part of their early warning system. They needed nearly exact replicas of our universe. Exact replicas are easy to find; just tune the frequency up or down a micrometer in or out on that third strand. But near duplicates? They exist— SCP-8596-1: But in an infinite pool. Ambrose: We found one, eventually. Just one. SCP-8596-1: I ask again, the trouble? (An autonomous drone flies out of the Way. The pair are disheveled, clearly lacking sleep. The light of early sunrise illuminates the room.) Ambrose: Looks solid. (Ambrose makes note of the frequency.) Wilkins: Solid? That looks fucking perfect! (Wilkins moves to hug Ambrose, who barely reciprocates.) Ambrose: How you keep this energy is beyond me. Wilkins: What's wrong? Ambrose: I'm exhausted. Wilkins: Preaching to the choir. Ambrose: I think we should call it here and head home. I'll make a request for a hazmat team to scope the area before anything. Wilkins: Now? Now!? Are you crazy? Ambrose: Maybe not fully but I'm for sure getting there. Wilkins: We have to go in. Ambrose: Are you crazy? Wilkins: A little! I mean, look, when Fleming found— Ambrose: Do not invoke Fleming at me. That's not fair. (Wilkins smiles at Ambrose, who attempts to hide his smile behind a hand as he scribbles notes on a pad.) Wilkins: When Fleming found penicillin imagine he waited for a hazmat team before investigating it himself. Ambrose: Technically, he told other people about it before doing anything stupid, like you want to do with this portal. Wilkins: One time, we'll be done after that. Ambrose: Look at me, I love you. You know that. But, this is work. This is my job, and I take it seriously. Wilkins: You don't think I take this seriously? Ambrose: That's not what I'm saying. This is our job. Our job has standards and procedures that we have to follow. Regardless of whatever is going on in our personal life, you can't use my love for you to do something that's wrong. Wilkins: I'll go in. I'm not going to throw this out. SCP-8596-1: He was a hard-head. Ambrose: I wouldn't call it that. He liked risks, I didn't. Ambrose: It's not throwing anything out! Wilkins: We're at the forefront of some of the best research that's ever been done on this topic, and you want the first person to enter a man-made transdimensional portal to be some former military no-name. Fuck that! Ambrose: You're out of your fucking mind! Wilkins: We deserve credit! Ambrose: We'll get it. Wilkins: Name one NASA scientist who worked on the Apollo project. Ambrose: You know what, I'll just close it! Wilkins: Don't even dare. (Wilkins paces to the Way, shoving his hand into it.) Wilkins: Look! I'm fine! Ambrose: I'm not watching this. I'll see you at home. Get it the fuck together. Ambrose: And I left. Those were the last words I know he heard from my mouth. SCP-8596-1: He went all the way in? Ambrose: The dimension was an alternate Earth, nearly what we were looking for. The major divergence? The air had a parasitic, microscopic, airborne organism living in it. Billions, if not trillions of them. Humans, animals, everything evolved to live symbiotically with it. I walked into my lab that morning to the hazmat team I called the night before. They were carting his body out and fumigating the entire sector. SCP-8596-1: Jesus. Ambrose: I told him. I did. I promise. (Ambrose downs another glass of bourbon. SCP-8596-1 grabs the bottle from him as he attempts to pour it.) Ambrose: I promise I told him. Lague: I understand how you're feeling. Ambrose: No! I really don't think you do! Lague: It's not safe, George. He's— he's not doing well, and it's all happening very fast. (Ambrose's eyes well with tears.) Lague: I'm not good at this; I'm really sorry. I can't imagine what you're going through right now. You have to view this objectively, though, he entered untested waters and picked up an entirely unknown sickness. The amount of protection the nurses have to wear is unbelievable. It might kill you if you see him. Ambrose: I need to see him. Lague: I'm really sorry. (Ambrose begins to cry.) Ambrose: We were so close to being done! Why did I let this happen? Oh my god! I should've stayed! Why! Why didn't I stay? Lague: You can't blame yourself. Ambrose: Please, please, Paul. Please let me see him with my own eyes. Just once. Lague: I can't. I really, really can't. Ambrose: They wouldn't let me see him. SCP-8596-1: That's very hard. Ambrose: I don't think I've ever wanted anything more. SCP-8596-1: I understand why they wouldn't let you, as cruel as it is. How awful. Ambrose: It wasn't safe. That's all they kept telling me. He was contagious and he was dying. I would get to see him then but they didn't know when that would be. SCP-8596-1: That's not enough. Ambrose: Still, it wasn't safe. (A Way opens in Paul Lague's office. Ambrose exits, wielding a crowbar. He finds a locked drawer at Lague's desk. Wedging the crowbar, he peels the drawer open and retrieves Lague's spare keycard and a pistol.) Ambrose: Lague went home every night around two in the morning, so that was easy enough. I knew the security guys had a smoke break at quarter after three every night. Kenny and I used to take our breaks with them during those longer nights. It was about five minutes, but it was enough time. (Another Way is opened in the Site's surveillance console. Ambrose exits, scanning Lague's credentials and gaining admin privileges on the system. He sifts through camera feeds, eventually finding the medical bay. He locates a room that's marked as occupied but has no surveillance, assuming it houses Wilkins. Ambrose deactivates the medical bay's camera before exiting the console and closing the Way.) Ambrose: There weren't any cameras in his room. I don't know why they didn't have cameras in his room. SCP-8596-1: What happened next? Ambrose: I— I had turned off the rest of the cameras, but I left the keycard and I— I guess there was an alert that the cameras were turned off. The Site was put on lockdown. I wanted a video of our last time together. I just wanted to be able to see his face. (Ambrose's eyes well with tears.) Ambrose: We were so busy with work; we— we never got a picture together. How didn't we get a picture together? How is that possible? Weeks went by without seeing him; I was forgetting his face — his gorgeous smile. I remembered the feelings I felt when I saw him, like the way he laughed when I'd get that twitch in my eye when I was stressed. I just couldn't remember his face. You lose it so fast after being apart for so long. I just wanted something to look at to remember him. Something that was us. SCP-8596-1: Then? Ambrose: I went back to my lab and grabbed a body camera. I just wanted to get a video of us hugging. Immortalized in that way. I wouldn't have to see him again. (Ambrose is breathing heavily, sounding like he's holding back tears. He pulls the final purple strand extending from his hand. He takes a long breath and enters the Way, exiting into a medical bay room.) Ambrose: Kenny? (To the room's far left is a white bed. A sheet covers a mass laid on it. various medical devices, including IV therapy machines, ventilators, and heart rate monitors, beep and buzz loudly.) Ambrose: Kenny? Are you there? Ambrose: It was empty. Nothing was in there to make me believe he was as contagious as I was told. Nothing. Nothing at all. SCP-8596-1: Keep going. (Ambrose approaches the bed and removes the sheet.) (The body is Kenneth Wilkins. He's extremely emaciated, with little to no fat or musculature to see on his body. The skin looks more like cracked, flaking porcelain than flesh, giving Wilkins a doll-like appearance. His eyes are open, unblinking, and tinged green and cloudy. A mass is seen writhing in his stomach.) (Ambrose falls to the ground, wailing.) SCP-8596-1: Was he alive? (Tears stream down Ambrose's face) Ambrose: I may have laid there for seconds or years crying. I— I couldn't tell. The only thing that broke me out was an alarm. (A lockdown alarm sounds in the medical bay. A single security officer enters the room.) Security Officer: George! Exit the room with your hands raised! Ambrose: Why does he look like this? Security Officer: Get out of the room, George. Listen to me! I don't want to hurt you! Ambrose: Are you keeping him alive? Security Officer: You have ten seconds to remove yourself from the room! Ambrose: Are all of these machines keeping him alive like this? Security Officer: George, please, there's more of my team coming, and they're not going to be as nice. Get out of the room! Ambrose: Answer my fucking question! Are all of these machines keeping him alive? Security Officer: It's not our choice. Ambrose: You're keeping him alive like this? Security Officer: Please, leave the room. We'll get you amnestics. (Ambrose shoots the guard in the chest, who falls limply to the floor.) (He paces the room in hysterics, breaking quickly and crying. The body camera is removed and thrown to the ground. He vomits on the floor and then approaches Wilkins' body.) (Inaudible dialogue is heard. The camera sees Ambrose leaning over Wilkins. He's audibly crying.) (Another gunshot is heard. Ambrose grabs the body camera and shell casings, and exits the room.) (Ambrose is standing over the sink gagging. SCP-8596-1 places a hand on his shoulder. He's crying.) Ambrose: What did I do? What did I do? SCP-8596-1: You put him out of his misery? (Ambrose is silently crying. He breathes deeply.) Ambrose: I had to. I had to. SCP-8596-1: Keep going. Ambrose: I— I couldn't leave him like that. I couldn't. (SCP-8596-1 points at Ambrose's face, guiding him to eye contact.) SCP-8596-1: Look at me. Focus. What next? Ambrose: I had to. I had to. I promise! I promise I had to. Please. I'm sorry. I had to do it. (Ambrose rubs his hands through his hair.) Ambrose: I— I opened another Way. I opened the Way we had put the apple in during that— oh god! (Ambrose breaks down.) SCP-8596-1: Focus! Focus on my face. Ambrose: And— I— I grabbed the bed and put Kenny in there— with the guard and the camera — and I just fucking left them in there in that cold empty place. (Ambrose breaks further, crying into the sink.) (SCP-8596-1 unclips his collar, removing it.) Ambrose: What—? (The walls of the house begin rippling like ocean waves.) Ambrose: What's going on? (Ambrose sniffles and gags.) (The facade of the house fades away. An interrogation chamber is revealed. SCP-8596-1 looks to a security camera and nods at it. Security teams invade the room and remove Ambrose. Lague enters as they leave.) Lague: Amazing. Absolutely amazing. SCP-8596-1: Mhm. Thanks. (SCP-8596-1 hands the collar to Lague.) Lague: That was much faster than I thought it would be. SCP-8596-1: I watched maybe 2000 tapes on this guy. I'd hoped it be shorter. Lague: And the story about the researcher you falsely convicted. Chef's kiss. The Ethics Committee's gonna be very happy that we don't have to go on trial here. SCP-8596-1: You hired me for a reason. Scrub that description of me in the prop doc. I don't want anyone reading that. Lague: Consider it done. A month of isolation, and he still wouldn't say a word. Great, great work, Erik. SCP-8596-1: I'll take care of the rest of the paperwork. (SCP-8596-1 moves to the exit.) Lague: Be my guest. Just update the 8596 file. «END LOG» NOTE: The pseudonym of SCP-████, "SCP-8596-1," has been removed from this document. Any remaining information referencing SCP-8596-1 should be submitted to Site-322's RAISA representative so it may be deleted from this file. SCP-████'s faux designation, its addition to this file, and its deletion from this file were approved by O5-3. Item#: 8596 Level3 Containment Class: neutralized Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: {$disruption-class} Risk Class: {$risk-class} link to memo Special Containment Procedures: N/A Description: SCP-8596 was the body of Kenneth Wilkins. Wilkins was originally employed in the Department of Dimensional Studies, tasked with creating an affordable, replicable method of transdimensional travel. After traveling into an alternate Earth (designated DS-10226701), Wilkins was infected with an airborne parasite that quickly ravaged his body. Site-322's medical personnel conferred with the Ethics Committee and Overseer Council, determining that the research potential of this pathogen outweighed allowing Wilkins to pass. As such, his body was kept alive artificially until research was complete, at which time it would be decommissioned. SCP-8596 was neutralized by a rogue member of Site-322's personnel who suffered a mental breakdown following a personal issue related to the SCP-8596 case. SCP-8596 was shot in the forehead with a pistol along with the security officer who attempted to arrest him, Benjamin Seymor.1 The corpses, the murder weapon, and miscellaneous pieces of evidence were subsequently hidden in an alternate Earth (designated DS-00000011). The rogue agent, George Ambrose, has been interrogated and confessed to the murder of Kenneth Wilkins and Benjamin Seymor. For these offenses, along with breaking and entering, credential theft, unauthorized use of Thaumaturgy, misuse of Foundation resources, and participation in an unapproved workplace relationship, George Ambrose has been imprisoned at Site-06 and is awaiting termination. Footnotes 1. Seymor has posthumously received the Foundation Star Award for his sacrifice during this incident. More From This Author More From This Author PlaguePJP's Works SCPs SCP-7595 (+213) • SCP-6591 (+130) • Plague's Proposal (+356) • SCP-7001 (+544) • SCP-5594 (+100) • SCP-618 (+149) • SCP-5592 (+102) • SCP-8597 (+170) • SCP-5364 (+89) • SCP-6594 (+121) • SCP-8592 (+163) • SCP-8595 (+374) • SCP-6598 (+257) • SCP-7599 (+191) • SCP-6596 (+297) • Tales/GoI Formats HOGSLICE Makes A Friend (+162) • Other PLAGUEPLACE (+192) • Phobophobia Anthology 2024 Pyrophobia ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8596" by PlaguePJP, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8596. 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: church1.png, church2.png Name: Mount Ida - Abandoned Church Author: Roger W License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: flickr Filename: ramsey.png Name: DSC_0088.JPG Author: Andrew Feinberg License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: flickr Filename: ambrose.png Name: Matt Hawes Author: Gage Skidmore License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: flickr Filename: wilkins.png Name: Launch Conference Author: LAUNCH Partnership, Photography by Ken Yeung License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: flicker |
SCP-8597 | euclid | PlaguePJP & J Dune: XLIII . by PlaguePJP & J Dune SCP-8597 — your month, your guy ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} Item#: 8597 Level3 Containment Class: euclid Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: {$disruption-class} Risk Class: {$risk-class} link to memo SCP-8597 starting slide. Special Containment Procedures: Upon discovery of an active SCP-8597 instance, standard online content removal procedures are to be carried out by Foundation Web-Crawler-TT-01 “Shou Chew’s Revenge.” Standard amnesticization protocols are to follow should a member of the public encounter an instance of SCP-8597-1. Description: SCP-8597 is a slideshow uploaded to social media and content application TikTok. SCP-8597 is thirteen images long. Upon viewing, a looping 30-second audio clip of Claude Debussy's Clair De Lune will play. The first slide is dedicated to a title card reading "your month, your guy," followed by twelve images. Each depicts an instance of SCP-8597-1, as well as its name and individual characteristics. SCP-8597-1 is a group of twelve anomalous entities correlated to a month of the year that spontaneously appear upon viewing SCP-8597. The viewer’s birth month is the determining factor in which of the twelve entities will manifest. For an SCP-8597-1 instance to materialize, a user must have the slide corresponding to their birth month opened for over 60 seconds. The title card also specifies that users "believe hard;" though there is no evidence linking a user's belief and the likelihood of an SCP-8597-1 manifestation. A user's SCP-8597-1 instance will remain within their vicinity as long as SCP-8597 is actively open on a user's device. Should a user scroll away from SCP-8597, close the application, or shut their device off, the SCP-8597-1 instance will violently explode. Among the blood and viscera, a piece of paper will be left in place of the entity, containing only a text-based "sad face" emoticon.1 Users can remanifest their corresponding SCP-8597-1 instance by following the manifestation parameters above. Addendum 8597.1: SCP-8597-1 Instances SCP-8597-1A | January SCP-8597-1B | February SCP-8597-1C | March SCP-8597-1D | April SCP-8597-1E | May SCP-8597-1F | June SCP-8597-1G | July SCP-8597-1H | August SCP-8597-1I | September SCP-8597-1J | October SCP-8597-1K | November SCP-8597-1L | December january bicurious frank - ooh ooh aah aah - pees on stuff to claim it - fiscal conservative Description: SCP-8597-1A is a golden snub-nosed monkey (Rhinopithecus roxellana) enveloped in pink, purple, and blue colored light, commonly referred to as “bisexual lighting” in popular colloquialisms. SCP-8597-1A's lighting effect also carries to its general surroundings within a one-meter vicinity. SCP-8597-1A's intelligence is similar to the level of a human child between the ages of 6 and 11. While it can not speak, the entity can write in short, scribbled, albeit legible, sentences. It often does this to convince the user who manifested it to purchase financial investments, namely Gamestop and Tesla Motors stock, as well as several cryptocurrencies. SCP-8597-1A has shown great discomfort with its “bicurious” moniker, asking to be referred to as “just frank pls”, and frantically apologizing to Foundation staff for “shoving it down ur throats”. This apparent stress has caused SCP-8597-1A to hyperventilate and pass out on multiple occasions. february squid jame(s) - korean - reverse aquaman - will share his paramount+ password Description: SCP-8597-1B is a Caribbean reef squid (Sepioteuthis sepioidea). SCP-8597-1B is capable of respirating air and limited vocalization in the Korean language, sonically comparable to that of an elderly male. SCP-8597-1B’s vocal capabilities have been transcribed and translated below. ”Do you have Paramount+?” ”It has every episode of Star Trek under one umbrella for the first time in entertainment history.” ”At $5.99 per month with limited commercial interruptions, it is an affordable service compared to other streaming platforms.” ”The DVD box set of Star Trek: Voyager used to cost upwards of $200.” ”Over 45,000 episodes and movies all under one umbrella for the first time in entertainment history.” ”The future of the Star Trek franchise is entirely dependent on the success of Paramount+.” Attempts to extend conversation with SCP-8597-1B beyond these phrases have invariably failed. Attempts have been made to let SCP-8597-1B share its Paramount+ login information, however, it has become understood that SCP-8597-1B does not know how to read nor use a keyboard regardless of language. march orb - wise (ask him questions he'll know the answer) - can sing unreleased beatles songs - do NOT feed after midnight Description: SCP-8597-1C is a large, floating, luminescent sphere capable of speech in English. SCP-8597-1C will only speak when prompted with a question. Below are researchers' attempts to document the prescient abilities insinuated in SCP-8597-1C's slide. Prompt Response What are today's winning lottery numbers? "Have you heard Tomorrow by the Beatles?" What time is it right now? "Have you heard There Goes The Moon by the Beatles?" Can you understand me? Say anything other than a non-existent Beatles song, if you understand me. "Have you heard I Do Not Want To Touch Your Feet by the Beatles?" Researchers have heeded the warning in the SCP-8597 slideshow. However, SCP-8597-1C has no mouth or orifice where sustenance could be inserted. april floppy joe - a fish - can swim when in water - breathes water Description: SCP-8597-1D is a Black sea bass (Centropristis striata). Upon manifestation, SCP-8597-1D will asphyxiate unless the user is in a non-chlorinated body of water during its manifestation. SCP-8597-1D has no discernable anomalous properties. may lemon devin - literary enthusiast - life of the party - likes to ski (wink) Description: SCP-8597-1E is a lemon that constantly and loudly emits a variety of EDM songs by musician John Summit. Should cocaine be placed on or near SCP-8597-1C, an appropriately sized pair of sunglasses will appear on its "face" for 15-30 minutes. The music SCP-8597-1E produces can be muted when it is given access to the Vice.com editorial archives circa 1998-2006. During this activity, SCP-8597-1E will occasionally interupt its readings to vocalize that “Vice used to be so fucking good, man.” june my guy abe - has court-mandated anger management classes every thursday - no car - addicted to paypal's "pay in 4" program - all around nice guy Description: SCP-8597-1F is a humanoid entity resembling Gritty, the mascot of the NHL's Philadelphia Flyers. All efforts to remove this costume have been fruitless. SCP-8597-1F is capable of speech in English. Interactions with SCP-8597-1F follow a consistent pattern, as seen in the below transcript. TRANSCRIPT SCP-8597-1F: Can you give me a ride? Rsr. Hoover: Where? SCP-8597-1F: I need to go to court. Rsr. Hoover: Which court? SCP-8597-1F: I have my classes. I need to go to court. Rsr. Hoover: Which court? SCP-8597-1F: The one with my classes. Rsr. Hoover: I need you to help me out here. SCP-8597-1F: If you're gonna be an asshole, just say no. Rsr. Hoover: I'm asking you a simple question. SCP-8597-1F: I'll violate my terms if I miss a class. Rsr. Hoover: Where are the fucking classes? SCP-8597-1F: Court. Rsr. Hoover: Now, it's a no. (SCP-8597-1F punches a hole in the wall.) SCP-8597-1F: One. SCP-8597-1F: Two. SCP-8597-1F will then follow closely behind the user that manifested it, counting up from one and breathing deeply between each number. july syndicated mitch - has all ten seasons of friends built-in - great sense of humor - chandler irl - has all ten seasons of friends built-in Description: SCP-8597-1G is a CRT television that continuously plays episodes of Friends (1994) regardless of whether it is connected to a power source. Every line of dialogue is followed by the episode being paused and SCP-8597-1G making sounds akin to hysteric laughing for up to 10 seconds before resuming the program. Following the death of actor Matthew Perry on 2023/10/28, SCP-8597-1G has reacted to all dialogue delivered by the character Chandler with intense, protracted screaming before continuing the episode. august uncle kingy - in debt - has an iconic catchphrase - thousands of dollars in casino comps - wanna go play the ponies kid Description: SCP-8597-1H is a humanoid entity resembling Italian-American actor Frank Vincent. If prompted to say its “iconic catchphrase”, SCP-8597-1H will declare that it is “time to fucking gamble!”, before disappearing alongside the subject. Upon reappearing seconds later, subjects will report having spent up a prolonged period of time— ranging from a day to three weeks— with SCP-8597-1H in a sprawling casino environment. Activities did not divert from watching SCP-8597-1H repeatedly and invariably lose at a variety of games before being forcibly ejected from the premises and reappearing in baseline reality. Upon using wi-fi connected devices following SCP-8597-1H’s manifestation, the subject will find that money from any connected banking accounts has been deposited into the DraftKings Sportsbook website. september unsophisticated doug - what a guy - real winner - living legend - has a shitty brother Description: SCP-8597-1I is an inanimate statue resembling a bald humanoid. Subjects viewing SCP-8597-1I will invariably form an extremely favorable opinion of the object. Rsr. Hoover: Hey, Dougmeister! How’s it hanging? (SCP-8597-1I stands in silence, looking amazing.) Rsr. Hoover: That’s great man! I’m doing swell myself. Thanks for asking! (SCP-8597-1I does not respond, but that’s just fine!) Rsr. Hoover: Hah hah! You’re the man, Doug! Researcher's Note: Doug's brother is a real prick. october zhi peng (志鹏) - stands in the village all day (what does he do) - gives horrendous loot - i do not need any more iridescent skipping stones - dipshit Description: SCP-8597-1J is a humanoid entity resembling a Chinese peasant from the Han dynasty period. It has not been observed to move from its point of manifestation, instead electing to remain idle until engaged by an individual. If engaged, SCP-8597-1J will ask that the individual assist them in completing a task. SCP-8597-1J converses in Chinese. The nature of these requests vary incidentally, but typically require the individual to retrieve one or more items to then bring back to SCP-8597-1J. Upon completion, SCP-8597-1J will reward the individual. A table of example tasks has been recorded below. Request Reward SCP-8597-1J requested that the subject collect 22 sticks. Upon retrieving the objects from the exterior of the site, SCP-8597-1J presented the subject with a bundle of wool. SCP-8597-1J requested that the subject corral 4 wild boar, each having suddenly manifested upon the Site-322 premises. Task accomplished with minimal collateral damage. SCP-8597-1J presented the subject with a chrysanthemum flower. SCP-8597-1J requested that the subject slay “Fucanglong, Underworld Divine General”. A massive entity resembling a black-scaled dragon as stylized in Chinese mythology manifested inside a subterranean chamber underneath Site-322. The Site was thrown into immediate lockdown while an appropriate Mobile Task Force was secured for deployment. Upon the target’s neutralization, SCP-8597-1J presented the subject with a small wooden cartridge containing a silver powder, which, according to the entity, “can be used alongside a crafting kit to create arrowheads”. The Foundation has yet to ascertain a use for this item. Completion of this task yielded 15 casualties. Continued testing of SCP-8597-1J has been suspended until further notice. november big maggie - always there for you - real sweetheart - cutie pie - running a bit late Description: SCP-8597-1K is a Peterbilt 389 semi-trailer truck. SCP-8597-1K’s manifestation is delayed, instead appearing at an indeterminate point within 24 hours of viewing the slide under appropriate conditions. Manifestation occurs within a 1 km radius of the subject’s current position, typically on a nearby road. SCP-8597-1K will then rapidly accelerate towards the subject with enhanced force, demolishing any objects, structures, or individuals in the way of its path. Upon making physical contact with the subject, SCP-8597-1K will then de-manifest. Any destruction or damage caused by the entity— including casualties— will be reversed and nullified upon its disappearance. december unsophisticated craig - buffoon - absolute fool - waste of space - has a really cool brother Description: SCP-8597-1L is an animated clay sculpture resembling a nondescript ape beating a shield with a bat. It causes all nearby people to insult and laugh at it; it will beat the shield with the bat a number of times depending on how malicious the insult is. Insult SCP-8597-1L Reaction "Fucking idiot" SCP-8597-1L beats the shield twice. "I hope everything you do fails. I hope every woman you meet views you with disgust. I wish nothing but pain and horror for you. I hope all goes wrong for the rest of your life and I will follow to the ends of the Earth to watch the shitshow you are." SCP-8597-1L beats the shield once. "Kill yourself" SCP-8597-1L beats the shield eighteen times. Addendum 8597.2: Incident 8597-Alpha On November 24th, 2022, Junior Researcher Francesco White (born February 29th, 1992), performed a standard test with SCP-8597. Despite pulling the slide corresponding to his birth month, no SCP-8597 entity manifested. Instead, White's phone crashed due to overheating. Over the course of an hour, White's stomach became incredibly distended and bloated. He was sent to the Site infirmary, where nurses noted White's body temperature was 10 degrees below baseline. Attempts were made to sedate White, all of which failed, and his assertions of intense pain became continuous screaming as the mass grew larger. The mass squirmed violently within White before throwing him off the bed into a kneeling position. The mass could be seen moving up White's digestive tract, causing extreme distension to his chest and neck that should have sent White into unconsciousness or proven fatal. White expelled a black, viscous fluid from his mouth, followed by two hand-like implements attached to a 25-pound, amorphous blob of flesh, hair tissue, teeth, and eyeballs. White subsequently passed out but made a full recovery. When his phone was powered back on, he accessed SCP-8597 again, which displayed a single slide. Repeated testing on subjects born on the Leap Day (February 29th) has resulted in the same or similar outcomes. Footnotes 1. :( More From This Author More From This Author PlaguePJP's Works SCPs SCP-5592 (+102) • SCP-7597 (+142) • SCP-8595 (+374) • SCP-6597 (+180) • SCP-8592 (+163) • SCP-5595 (+535) • SCP-7596 (+130) • SCP-7593 (+203) • Plague's Proposal (+356) • SCP-8596 (+244) • SCP-5591 (+128) • SCP-7595 (+213) • SCP-618 (+149) • SCP-8598 (+88) • SCP-5596 (+159) • Tales/GoI Formats HOGSLICE Makes A Friend (+162) • Other PLAGUEPLACE (+192) • ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8597" by PlaguePJP and J Dune, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8597. 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: slideshow1.png Author: PlaguePJP License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Filename: frank.png License: CC BY-SA 2.0 This image is a composite of: Name: Zoorasia, Yokohama, Japan Author: pelican License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: flickr Filename: james.png Name: Caribbean Reef Squid Author: YVC Biology Department License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: flickr Filename: orb.png Name: Fusion Festival 2008 (Element 3) Author: Adrian Be License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: flickr Filename: fish.png Name: Giant Black Sea Bass, San Clemente Island, Channel Islands, California.jpgCaribbean Reef Squid Author: w:en:Aquaimages License: CC BY-SA 2.5 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Filename: lemon.png Name: Lemon Author: Tschäff License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: flickr Filename: gritty.png Name: 2019-01-24 Gritty Philadelphia Flyers at All Star Game (cropped).jpeg Author: Tim Piper License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Filename: telev.png Name: Vintage television Author: N/A License: CC0 Source Link: rawpixel Name: Frank Vincent (cropped).png Author: Rob DiCaterino License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Filename: winner.png Name: Sculpture inuit (Montréal, Canada) Author: Jean-Pierre Dalbéra License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: flickr Name: Chinese peasant costume.jpg Author: illustration by Percy Anderson for Costume Fanciful, Historical and Theatrical, 1906 License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Name: Oldland Distributing truck Peterbilt No 286.jpg Author: D'oh Boy (Mark Holloway) License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Filename: fool.png Name: Sculpture inuit (Montréal, Canada) Author: Jean-Pierre Dalbéra License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: flickr Filename: blob.png Name: St augustine carcass.jpg Author: N/A License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-8598 | neutralized | PlaguePJP: XLI by PlaguePJP SCP-8598 — The Sharpshooter ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} Item#: 8598 Level3 Containment Class: neutralized Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: {$disruption-class} Risk Class: {$risk-class} link to memo SCP-8598. Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8598 is neutralized. No containment procedures are necessary. SCP-8598. Description: SCP-8598 is professional wrestler and reality bender Gary Moreno. SCP-8598 performed between 1966 and 1974, beginning in Japan and ending in the burgeoning World Wide Wrestling Federation. He gained fame as "Jerry 'Sharpshooter' Roulette," a heel1 outlaw bounty hunter chasing 'bounties' and the world championship. After a car accident in 1973, SCP-8598's anomalous properties began manifesting; this coincided with the development of major depressive disorder, theorized schizophrenia, alcoholism, and drug addiction. SCP-8598 began living solely as Jerry "Sharpshooter" Roulette, which included wearing his wrestling gear any time he was in public, ignoring or lashing out at mentions of his legal name, hunting fugitives as a vigilante, and having professional wrestling matches with members of the public. Persons close to the subject describe this switch as SCP-8598 engrossing himself in Kayfabe.2 In short, SCP-8598's frame of reality was through the character of Jerry "Sharpshooter" Roulette, and all events within his life would be altered by his reality warping capabilities to ensure that experience. Addendum 8598.1: Early Career and Time in the World Wide Wrestling Federation SCP-8598 was born in 1942 in El Paso, Texas. At 18, SCP-8598 joined the Dallas Cowboys practice squad but was released less than a year later after a career-ending knee injury. SCP-8598's trainer recommended that he pursue professional wrestling, and he enrolled at the same wrestling academy as his childhood friend Larry Hennig. SCP-8598 wrestled in Japan for the International Wrestling Enterprise promotion under the pseudonym "Jack 'The Gunslinger' Roulette." In Kayfabe, SCP-8598 was promoted as a heel, donning the character of an outlaw bounty hunter chasing the promotion's top championship. Initially, SCP-8598 was placed in a tag team with Larry Henig, and the pair would win the IWE Tag Team Champtionship. The team would split in 1969 when SCP-8598 attacked Hennig in the ring as part of a story line. Later that year, SCP-8598 would defeat then-Champion Antonio Inoki and win the title. The following is a segment from the testimony of Jim Cornette, a former scriptwriter for the World Wrestling Federation and professional wrestling historian. Jim Cornette. Cornette: Well, he was before my time, I’ll tell you that. Everything I knew about the guy came from Gong Magazine, with the big, glossy photos done up by Koichi Yoshizawa. And at the time, that was one of the only outlets for American fans to catch what was going on in Japan. But yes, I was aware of the Gunslinger. And he had it all! The star-power, the aura, whatever you want to call it. You’d see a black-and-white, two-fold spread of the guy doing a side headlock and he could’ve jumped out of the page and fucking goozled you just for staring too long! So he looks like a million bucks, he’s able to work a goddamn match, and he’s getting coverage all the way across the world. He should be a superstar! You’re probably thinking, what the fuck’s the issue? Problem was, these Japanese fans, they kept fucking cheering for the guy. And back in the day, that was unheard of for a heel. You’d bring a gaijin in to be booed— the foreign heel, it’s easy heat! So what do you do when your bad guy’s getting cheers like a good guy? You fucking turn him face. Except, Yoshihara — the booker — he didn’t want that. So they sent him back to the States, got him strapped in with the WWWF, and told Vince Sr. that he was his problem now. After losing the title back to Inoki in 1970, SCP-8598 signed with the World Wide Wrestling Federation (WWWF).3 The WWWF renamed SCP-8598 to Sharpshooter Jerry Roulette and his character remained largely unchanged. While the IWE booked SCP-8598 as the top heel, the WWWF used SCP-8598 as a stepping stone for babyface wrestlers to overcome before fighting for the championship, leaving him lingering in the midcard4 and not reaching the height he did in the IWE. Cornette: Things petered out. He got pushes, but they were on and off. And the WWWF was running monthly shows— you don’t get booked every month, there was no guarantee the crowd would remember you the next go around. Being a foreigner in front of a Japanese crowd made you an attraction. Over here, when you’re next to guys like Bruno Sammartino and Chief Jay Strongbow, you need to grab one big-ass stepstool to stand out. And that fucked with him. Not getting the same type of reactions he did in Japan, not moving up the card. WWWF was a babyface promotion— top heels were locked in programs with top faces for months on end. Not a lot of mobility. So there was a lot of downtime for a guy to get shitfaced in every bar in the northeastern corridor. SCP-8598's girlfriend, Catherine Hobbs, gave birth to twins in December of 1970. The pair would later marry and have a third child by the end of 1971. SCP-8598 floated around the midcard of the WWWF in 1972, and had an upcoming contract negotiation that September. Cornette: You have these kids coming in, great shape, good looks, making more money than they thought they ever would, and they're going out and meeting these girls et cetera, et cetera. A baby pops out nine months later, and now, they say, "fucking shit!" because now this profession where you were fucking around with your buddies and traveling the country has to feed a family. Jim Cornette, suspended in a shark cage as part of an on-screen wrestling angle. He has this contract negotiation coming up. He wants to stay close to his wife and kids, so he's not shopping around at these other territories, and again, he's not a draw. It just so happened, at the time, that one of Shooter's good friends, Ivan Koloff, was champion. So you have Koloff, this three-hundred-some-odd pound Canadian with a sickle and hammer tattooed on his arm pretending to be a Russian, and he's the top heel for about a year at this point. Bruno Sammartino is booked for the opportunity to fight Koloff for the title, but Bruno ends up snapping his fucking femur in half. So now, Vince Sr. is scrambling for a new all-American, apple pie-eating babyface that will defeat the Reds and bring the title back to the US of A. What do you do now? Vince looks around, thinking, and remembers he has a 300-pound cowboy with whom he's done squat. He finally got his push. Following Bruno Sammartino's injury in August of 1972, SCP-8598 successfully beat Pedro Morales in a contendership match, which landed him a chance for the championship. The next week, SCP-8598's contract negotiation occurred, and he was resigned for $250,000 per year and booked to win the title from Koloff at the next event in November. Cornette: He gets two-hundred fifty grand in 1972, he's booked to be a top champion in a few months, and he's signed for another four years. Knowing he has four mouths to feed, the first purchase he makes is an eighty-thousand-dollar racehorse. I can't fathom it! He'd use it in place of a car. He, (Chuckles), he would ride it backstage and Vince Sr. slipped in a puddle of its piss. He wasn't allowed to bring it around the arenas anymore after that. He starts riding it around on the street late at night, saying it helps get him into character. These were the things you dealt with with character performers. The real dedicated ones want to make themselves their characters as much as possible. It helps sell the business. If I went up to Shooter on the street and he turned to me and said, 'How ya doing, buddy, the name's Gary,' I'd probably never watch again. Things like this were not exactly promoted, but they were accepted. And then, you know, he— he took it too far. SCP-8598. SCP-8598 purchased a racehorse named Alto Soprano after signing his renewed contract. One week before his scheduled championship match, SCP-8598 rode his horse down a residential street. At an intersection, SCP-8598 was struck by a vehicle, killing the horse and grievously injuring him. He was subsequently moved out of the title match and replaced by Morales. Addendum 8598.2: Injury and Anomalous Phenomenon SCP-8598's left femur was shattered to the point doctors initially thought the leg would have to be amputated. He also suffered a broken collarbone, a skull fracture, a major concussion, and fluid build-up in the brain. Luckily, the leg did not have to be amputated and steel plates were bolted into it instead. Doctors told SCP-8598 that he would likely not be able to wrestle again, or even run, and gave him a timeframe of eighteen months before he could walk again. The painkiller medication SCP-8598 received as part of his treatment quickly became an addiction and compounded with his preexisting alcoholic tendencies. The following is a segment from the testimony of Catherine Moreno, the wife of SCP-8598. Moreno: It broke him. It really, really broke him. He used to just sit in his wheelchair and stare out the window of our bedroom, mumbling to himself. The WWWF took care of all of the medical bills; he probably would've never walked again if they didn't pay for the physical therapy. He made really good progress, but — he reached such a height early in his career, and he spent the rest of his time chasing after it. The fact he got so close to winning the championship at the biggest territory — finally getting that push to the top — and losing it because of some dumb decision destroyed him. He barely said a word to me in that first six months. He would shake his empty bottle of whiskey in my direction when he wanted a new one, and that was the most of our communication. I wasn't in a position to really stop that. He was hurting, and if liquor made it feel the slightest bit better I wasn't going to take that away. (Pause.) I wish I did. Lague: Did he start improving at any point? Moreno: In a vacuum, he did. He started walking with crutches about six months after his injury. He only mumbled to himself still. I kept the kids away as much as I could, and we had the guaranteed money he signed for, so it wasn't like he needed to get back, but he wanted to. Around the seven month mark was when I noticed he was losing it. I was yelling across the house for him; 'Gary,' I said. Then I hear something shatter in our bedroom, so I run up. He's waiting for me, standing straight without any crutches in his full Sharpshooter outfit and asks me 'What's my goddamn name?' I said 'Gary, you're drunk.' and he charged over to me and asked that question again, 'What's my goddamn name?' I didn't answer; I was scared. He looms over me and, through gritted teeth, says, 'I'm the Sharpshooter Jerry Roulette,' and leaves the house. Lague: Was there any abuse? Moreno: No, no, he never hit me or even shouted at me other than this one time. I don't know what it was, but the character Jerry Roulette became who Gary was, and Jerry was a heel. He was so sweet and loving to me and the kids. But he put on that hat and that coat, and he'd lose that part of him. He had the wherewithal to keep it out of the house. SCP-8598's mental health issues and anomalous capabilities reared their head following the injury. Despite being unable to walk, whenever SCP-8598 wore his ring gear, his injuries healed and he returned to a performance-ready state. He made a drunken, unannounced appearance backstage during a WWWF event only to be escorted out and ordered to remain home until he was fully healed. SCP-8598's reality warping manifested in the world around him being affected by Kayfabe. Any altercations between SCP-8598 and members of the public became official professional wrestling matches. His theme music would play upon him entering any location, and his official records would be updated to reflect the events in his life. Hennig: He was fucked up. It— it was sad to see; really sad. I became estranged from him for that reason. Once, he showed up at my hotel room in full gear, like he was ready to wrestle then and there. He was mumbling and slurring his words — I thought he was drunk, and I knew that the best course of action in dealing with a drunk Shooter was to get him cooled down and put him to bed. I had him take his coat and hat off, and I saw the needle marks in his arm. I told him to leave, I wasn't going to deal with that. He kept repeating himself, 'The hangman needs his dues, the hangman needs his dues.' Real sad shit. I just couldn't deal with it. I had my wife in the room. I— I couldn't do it. I called Vince Sr. and told him Shooter needs an intervention fast. We organized it, all this stuff, and he shows up in his gear. We tried to sit him down, and I made the mistake of calling him Gary. He picks me up and throws me against the wall, then pins me and wins our match. He turns to the group and, I'll never forget, says, 'God sends traitors to the twelfth circle, but the devil sends traitors to me. I have your bounties, and I hate keeping the hangman waiting.' In another incident, SCP-8598 approached five would-be robbers attempting to mug an unknown man. The robbers turned their attention to SCP-8598 and pointed their weapons at him. In turn, SCP-8598 began cutting a promo,5 ending with his catchphrase, "Dead or alive. Step in this ring, and you'll go home cold." Simultaneously, one of the robbers, John McLeary, had climbed on top of a dumpster and performed a frog splash onto SCP-8598. The other four attempted robbers then ambushed SCP-8598. At a certain point, a referee was brought to the street and began officiating. SCP-8598 would win by hitting five bodyslams on each of the attackers, pinning all five in a stack. None of them had any wrestling training or recollection of their "matches" from when they attacked to being pinned. The following is a segment from the testimony of Oreal "Ivan Koloff" Perras, a former wrestler and tag team partner of SCP-8598. Oreal "Ivan Koloff" Perras. Lague: A gorilla? Perras: Yes. Lague: How is that possible? Perras: There was a police report about Shooter trespassing at the Philadelphia Zoo. At 3 AM, he was found in his gear outside the gorilla enclosure, microphone in hand, cutting a promo on them. The next night, two zookeepers saw him inside the enclosure, and he walked out uninjured. Lague: So from that, you're extrapolating that he wrestled a gorilla. Perras: No, my friend. He wrestled a gorilla and won. SCP-8598. In 1973, WWWF doctors deemed SCP-8598 healthy enough to compete. During a contract extension negotiation with the WWWF, SCP-8598 threatened to hogtie and drag Vincent J. McMahon behind his horse "until the sun charred [his] skin" due to a perceived lowball offer. Despite this, WWWF management wrote this off as SCP-8598 remaining in character, and the contract was signed. SCP-8598 was pushed back to the main event scene following his return. After attacking Koloff in an on-screen segment at the Boston Garden, SCP-8598 stole his spot in a championship contendership match. During his entrance, SCP-8598 was attacked by a knife-wielding fan. Despite the gash slicing the femoral artery and SCP-8598 losing enough blood to expire, he continued to the ring. The attendee, 17-year-old Gregory Kaplin, jumped the barricade, climbed into the ring, and began performing multiple wrestling moves on SCP-8598. Kaplin was notably overweight and never had wrestling training, but despite this, the pair went 15 minutes, resulting in an SCP-8598 victory. SCP-8598 received stitches and the originally-planned match was held, resulting in an SCP-8598 win. SCP-8598 finally won the WWWF World Heavyweight Championship in May 1973, becoming the fourth man in company history to hold the title. Addendum 8598.3: Death and Legacy SCP-8598 was scheduled for a championship match in November against Koloff as a follow-up to the stolen contendership opportunity. He would fail to make his call time at the arena. Perras: Going back to the '50s, every promotion has a call time for any show. If an event starts at 8 PM, everyone had to be there by 2 PM at the latest, you should actually be there by 12 PM. By 3:30, Shooter didn't show up. We thought he had bought another horse and was fucking around on it, who knows. I talk to Vince, and he goes to Jim in talent relations, and he asks me if I know the hotel he's staying at. Perras and SCP-8598. I call it; 'Hello, I'm a wrestler for the WWWF, and one of our wrestlers hasn't shown up for the show we're having. Do you know what time he checked out? His name is Jerry Roulette.' (Chuckles) I knew the last thing he'd do was check in as Gary Moreno. And, uh, and, god damn it. (Koloff sniffles.) 'Sir,' the lady says back, 'The police are here. Mr. Roulette is dead.' Awful. I couldn't believe it. I still can't. […] Just awful. SCP-8598 died of a massive heart attack at the age of 32. While evidence of painkillers and alcohol were found in his blood, they could not be deemed the main factor in causing the heart attack. A tournament in SCP-8598's name would subsequently be held, and Bruno Sammartino would win, dedicating his championship victory to SCP-8598 in a post-show promo. SCP-8598's hat and boots were brought to the ring by Sammartino, and the championship was laid alongside the gear. Cornette: It's very obvious when a wrestler has problems and they can't perform. That— that wasn't the case with Sharpshooter. No one could tell where Sharpshooter ended and Gary Moreno started. Things were allowed to slide, maybe a bit more than they could with anyone else. I still think about this every day. Someone so dedicated to this business, to their craft, to their art; how does that heart stop beating? He wasn't done. He wasn't even close to done, and […] he didn't get a chance to finish his story. He had his issues, but it wasn't a drug overdose or alcohol poisoning, his heart just stopped. Maybe he could've beaten those addictions, and maybe he could have come slightly back down to reality, and maybe he would've been a great champion. But— but he never got that chance. I think about all that potential and how much he contributed in the five years he was in the business. I can only imagine what he could've done in the next decade. World Wrestling Entertainment inducted SCP-8598 into their Hall of Fame in 2012. Larry Hennig delivered the induction speech, a segment of which as been transcribed below. Larry Hennig. Hennig: You'll notice I haven't been calling Sharpshooter 'Gary Moreno,' and that is for damn good reason. Sharpshooter truly, genuinely lived as the outlaw, the cowboy, the bounty hunter, Jerry Roulette. Anytime he was around anyone, public or in the business, he was The Sharpshooter, and he expected to be treated as such. I've seen many of the boys backstage meet the true Sharpshooter after giving him a mistaken "How're you doing, Gary." He'd give you your one warning, and after that, he'd make you a wanted poster and pin it up in his locker. He was going to get that bounty, dead or alive. Wrestling is stageplay. Wrestling is entertainment. Wrestling is scripted. Today, we have newsletters and reporters ready to pounce on any talk from the people backstage, and it breaks the magic; it breaks the magic Sharpshooter protected for the seven short years he was in this business. He fought his ass off to make sure he was the Sharpshooter, inside and out, and that was his greatest accomplishment — to embody a character so masterfully that he became one with it. Sharpshooter may have passed, but Kayfabe lives on, and that's all he would have wanted. Footnotes 1. The "bad guy" of a wrestling storyline. 2. A wrestling term similar to "the suspension of disbelief." It's primarily used in reference to staged events being presented as real. 3. Now known as World Wrestling Entertainment. The company went through two rebrands in their lifespan, first to the World Wrestling Federation, and then to the aforementioned WWE. 4. Wrestlers occupy one of three categories: Main Event talent, wrestlers who are booked in the top storylines and fight for the biggest championship; Midcard Talent, wrestlers who are put in less-important storylines and fight for less important titles; and Jobbers, wrestlers who are often booked to lose for the purposes of making other talent appear stronger. 5. A scripted monologue or dialogue a wrestler performs to further a story. More From This Author More From This Author PlaguePJP's Works SCPs SCP-6596 (+297) • SCP-7597 (+142) • SCP-7591 (+192) • SCP-8000 (+909) • SCP-6592 (+79) • SCP-8594 (+116) • SCP-5592 (+102) • SCP-7599 (+191) • SCP-5595 (+535) • SCP-8593 (+173) • SCP-7592 (+222) • SCP-5594 (+100) • SCP-8595 (+374) • SCP-8599 (+235) • SCP-7590 (+151) • Tales/GoI Formats HOGSLICE Makes A Friend (+162) • Other PLAGUEPLACE (+192) • |
SCP-8599 | euclid | PlaguePJP: XXXV by PlaguePJP SCP-8599 — Your Fate is Sealed ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} Item#: 8599 Level2 Containment Class: euclid Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: {$disruption-class} Risk Class: {$risk-class} link to memo An Elephant Seal. Special Containment Procedures: All SCP-8599 incidents are to be documented so a pattern may be established. To date, there has been no progress toward discovering the origin of SCP-8599. As a result, potential containment vectors are entirely unknown, both due to the scarcity of known incidents, the inability to reproduce said incidents, and the random nature in which these incidents are triggered. An Elephant Seal. Description: SCP-8599 is the anomalous phenomenon leading to the manifestation and subsequent, often violent, death of an elephant seal (Mirounga angustirostris). While the exact parameters that trigger a successful SCP-8599 event are inconsistent and not fully understood, the following has been proven regarding this phenomenon: SCP-8599 solely affects Foundation personnel; The elephant seal involved in an SCP-8599 event is non-anomalous; The elephant seal involved in an SCP-8599 event is created by the anomaly, as in, it is not being teleported from the active population; SCP-8599 events are triggered just before the death of exactly one member of the Foundation's personnel. It is believed that the appearance of the elephant seal is an attempt to stop the incident from transpiring, however, these deaths will still occur regardless of the hapless seal's manifestation. SCP-8599-activating events range from incredibly mundane to extremely anomalous, and attempts to replicate exact parameters in order to reproduce the phenomenon have unilaterally failed. As of documentation, no discernible force or entity has been identified as the source of SCP-8599. The leading hypothesis by Site-17 researchers posits that this phenomenon is a form of failed divine intervention. The following is an abridged record of notable SCP-8599 events. Personnel Cause of Death/SCP-8599 Event J. Researcher Kelly Graham Smoke inhalation after an elephant seal blocked an exit during a fire. Dr. Kevin Grossman An elephant seal landed on him at a top speed of 440 m/s, protecting the corpse from a falling piece of debris. Janitor Orlan Di Leonardo Struck by a truck. An elephant seal materialized between the vehicles and was reduced to a fine, red mist. Sattelite Technician Isaac Lowry Vacuum Exposure after his spacesuit unexpectedly depressurized and the torso section burst open when an elephant seal manifested within the suit. Researcher Marianne Warren Drowned after being caught in a riptide and being held underwater beneath an elephant seal, which also drowned. Pilot Garrett Bench Crushed to death when an elephant seal manifested atop him, extinguishing an ongoing cockpit fire. The jet subsequently crashed in a residential area. Dir. Grover Morris Blood loss resulting from the shrapnel of a crashed fighter jet piercing through Morris' window, an elephant seal, and Morris' upper body. Researcher Lloyd Jones. Launched into a brick wall at high speed by an elephant seal. The seal was then shot by the bullet meant for Jones. Dr. Javier Martinez Blunt force trauma resulting from an elephant seal performing CPR, consisting of it repeatedly slamming its head on Martinez's chest, after he began choking on a peanut. More From This Author More From This Author PlaguePJP's Works SCPs SCP-7595 (+213) • SCP-5591 (+128) • SCP-5595 (+535) • SCP-7593 (+203) • SCP-6595 (+193) • SCP-8594 (+116) • SCP-7596 (+130) • SCP-5593 (+107) • SCP-8000 (+909) • SCP-5596 (+159) • SCP-7597 (+142) • SCP-7591 (+192) • SCP-6597 (+180) • Plague's Proposal (+356) • SCP-8597 (+170) • Tales/GoI Formats HOGSLICE Makes A Friend (+162) • Other PLAGUEPLACE (+192) • ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8599" by PlaguePJP, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8599. 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: seal.png Name: Elephant Seals at Sunrise January 10, 2009 Author: Elizabeth Haslam License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Flickr Filename: seal2.png Name: Northern Elephant Seal, San Simeon2.jpg Author: Mike Baird License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-8600 | safe | The empresses of the Mekhanites and the hall dedicated to preserving their legacy. . ⚠️ Content warning: This article contains themes of victim blaming and allusions to sexual violence. Additionally, it deals with themes of misogyny and sexism. This work depicts multiple men behaving negatively. For examples of positive male representation, refer to From Room 5: Bileath, the Wise Empress. See the author post for a full list of people who gave crit and feedback. Among them, I'd like to highlight the following people: PiNKpePpER (PiNKpePpER’s January Gallery 2024), for the art Rounderhouse (SCP-8003 — THE GEARS OF TIME), for the names, for help with Robert's section, and for writing Gold-Proposal more than two years ago Uncle Nicolini (SCP-8400 — The Birch Knight and the Game of Three Chestnuts), for seeing potential in my idea and critting me to the very end to ensure I brought the most out of it Strange Matter (SCP-8440 — Clear as White), because they were always ready to give input to my writing and think through revisions together with me FatScout and SomsnosaCalibration, for being with me since the conception of this idea and beyond posting ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} ⚠️Content Warning ↑ Item#: 8600 Level6 Containment Class: safe Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo Special Containment Procedures The most up-to-date coordinates of SCP-8600 are only known to Robert Bumaro1. He is to visit the building on a monthly basis to perform routine check-ups and maintenance. As SCP-8600 changes its location in unison with Amoni-Ram,2 and possesses identical entry requirements (the person intending to enter it must be familiar with its exact location), no additional containment procedures are necessary. Description SCP-8600 is a single-story building with anomalous internal dimensions, made of sandstone and fuladh.3 Both its interior and exterior resemble buildings found in Amoni-Ram in their use of ordered repetition, radiating structures, and rhythmic patterns. An inscription in Mekhanite above the doorway reads "The Hall of the Empresses". SCP-8600 comprises 10 rooms, each corresponding to a generation of the Bumaro dynasty. Each of them documents the life of the dynastic empress through plaques and murals, and is otherwise empty. Of note is that neither the number of rooms, nor height of their walls correspond to the external dimensions of the building. The rooms are aligned in a circular pattern around the centerpiece of SCP-8600, a fountain with a sculpture featuring three persons: a masculine figure sitting on a throne and two feminine figures standing around it. One of them is standing behind the masculine figure, while the other one is sitting on the floor next to him, embracing his legs. The pedestal on which the statue stands contains the following text:4 The leadership of Amoni-Ram consists of three components, three harmonizing pieces acting as a whole: the Emperor and His Hammer, symbolizing the Mind; the Empress and Her Staff, symbolizing the Heart; and the General and Her Spear, symbolizing the Soul. The holy union of these three guarantees the survival of Amoni-Ram. For this reason, each one of them is given equal importance. Or so they say. Around the Empire, power skews heavily towards the Hammer. Its virtuous actions are well documented everywhere. The Spear was lucky to find a way to preserve its legacy as well, through the Hall of Spears.5 But once the last Mekhanite dies out, who will be there to remember the Staff? From Room 3: Shataash, the Descendant Empress Chapter 23: "The One Who Inherits the Voice" 16. And Emperor Hashir spoke unto the husband of his daughter, Astir, as such: 17. "Answer my question, Astir: who, in your mind, will inherit the Voice?" 18. And Astir answered as such: 19. "Shataash is the one who inherits the Voice, Emperor, as she is Your daughter." 20. And Hashir said nothing, but asked Astir again: 21. "Answer my question again, Astir. Which one of you two resembles the blessed Mekhane more closely: you, or my daughter?" 22. And Astir answered as such: 23. "Shataash is the one who resembles the blessed Mekhane." 24. He understood not why the Emperor was asking him these questions. 25. As Shataash was His daughter, and as she was the one who resembles the Goddess, it was as solid as fuladh that she was the one set to inherit the Voice. 26. And as if Hashir read the thoughts of the young man, He shook His head, and spoke unto him as such: 27. "Mekhane is our blessed Goddess, yet the Emperors wield Her as a tool. They forge Her fuladh and they borrow from Her voice. It has been decreed such ever since my father, the first Bumaro. And I have found his works to be good." 28. And he continued as such: 29. "My daughter bears resemblance to the image of Mekhane. The blessings of the Voice befalls on the Man. Whether he is a descendant or not, it matters not." 30. But Astir did not take a liking to these words. He understood not what significance did the words of the Emperor hold, and he understood not why Shataash cannot wield the Voice. 31. "Emperor, are you not suggesting in earnest that I wield my dear Shataash as a tool? And are you not suggesting her resemblance to Mekhane places her underneath me? Surely it must go the other way around?" 32. And the Emperor had enough of hearing the doubt in the voice of Astir. 33. "I am not suggesting. I am instructing. You question our ways. But that will not hold me back. I shall guide you to the Throne myself, and you will be overcome with understanding." 34. Hashir did as told, and once Astir seated himself, he presented him a cylinder. 35. "This contains the memories of my father. I shall hand them over to you. You shall do the rest." 36. As he inserted the cylinder into the Throne, Astir went silent. 37. And from the doorway, this all was observed by Shataash. 38. The words of her father, Emperor Hashir, cut her soul deeply. The power of the Voice mattered not to her, and yet she was wounded by his words. 39. She understood not why her father would present her as a tool to Astir. 40. She treated him as a peer, despite her being the Heiress, and him being a commoner. Surely, whatever her father presented to him will not sway him. 41. And when she entered the throne room, her voice was tearful. 42. "Father, you would betray me so? Do you love me not?" 43. And Hashir did not look in her direction, instead observing the Throne. 44. "I do, Shataash, it is known. I ensured a proper upbringing for you. I taught you knowledge only the Emperors possess. But the blessing of the Voice was never yours to bear." 45. And Astir sat in the throne, overcome with visions left to him by the first Bumaro. 46. "He will understand soon," Hashir proclaimed, and moved to leave the room. "And with that, I leave you two to your own." 47. And when he left through the side entrance, Astir has awakened. 48. Shataash wanted to turn around and run, but she was unable to, as she found the main entrance to be locked. 49. "Astir…" she spoke unto her husband, tearful, "you love me, do you not?" 50. "I do," came the answer of Astir, short and sharp, as the fuladh dagger. 51. And when he opened his eyes to gaze upon his wife, Shataash recognized a sense of distance and cold that was not present prior. 52. And she spoke unto him as such, hoping she would reach him: 53. "You are strong, Astir. And I love you. Please, give in not to what you saw. Our strength lays in our love." 54. And Astir answered as such: 55. "I am strong, Shataash, and you know that. But I have tasted what it feels to be in charge. To be the one who controls. The strength of spirit pales next to the strength offered by power." 56. "Astir," Shataash pleaded him as such, "please, resist." 57. "SILENCE," Astir commanded his wife. And as the Voice left his lips, he finally understood. 58. "So this is how it feels," he whispered, looking at her. "I understand now what your father meant when he told me this power was ours to bear." 59. And words left the lips of Shataash no longer, as if her very throat was sealed. And she looked at him with fear in her eyes, and began weeping silently. [The murals show the life of Empress Shataash, including moments such as meeting with Emperor Astir and their marriage ceremony. With the conclusion of the ceremony, the paint from the face of Shataash has been progressively wearing off more and more. Of note is that this type of damage is present on the majority of the other murals.] splay: no splay: no SCP-8600 always manifests adjacent to Amoni-Ram, regardless of where the city teleports. Its coordinates, which change upon each teleportation, can be found etched into one of the tunnels of the Undercity.6 While the purpose of SCP-8600 can be inferred from the inscriptions found inside it, information on who built SCP-8600 is currently unavailable. From Room 5: Bileath, the Wise Empress Section 6, Parable 1 of 12: "The Third Wisdom of Empress Bileath" And Ansool knew that the scholars would view the blueprints of his wife with great scrutiny, as the old traditions of Amoni-Ram were hard to reject. The scholars viewed many moves of Bileath with suspicion, despite knowing well that the very nature of their union went against the traditional union of Emperors and Empresses. As the Voice had no effect on her, Bileath gave herself to the Emperor by will, instead of by force. The Third Wisdom of Bileath laid in her vast and immeasurable knowledge in technology. As her husband required not for her to suppress her self in his service, she spent countless days and nights studying the scholarly texts of Amoni-Ram. She learned the most intricate ways of working fuladh, and she learned the ways of construction, design, and blueprinting. And when the scholars discovered faults within the efficiency of the transit system of the blessed Amoni-Ram, Ansool hesitated not to propose the blueprints of Bileath as a solution. And when the scholars scrutinized her blueprints, he offered them a test of wit and skills, as follows: "If you want a blueprint from the Emperor, I will provide you one. I will provide you my plan for fixing the transit system. And whether mine or the ones of the blessed Bileath will be more efficient, you shall be the judge of that." And Bileath minded not the concerns of the scholars, as she knew their minds were closed as a circuitry and their conviction in the old ways of the Bumaros was as solid as fuladh. Instead, she looked forward to the blueprints of her husband with awe and curiosity. If he surpassed her, she would have not minded it, for she knew in their test of wits, their chances were equal. When the day of testing came, the blueprints of Ansool were brought out first. The efficiency problems were still present, though not as strongly as with the current railway system. And then the blueprints of Bileath were tested. The scholars were shocked to find out that the past efficiency problems were minimized as to be nonexistent. And they begrudgingly gave in, and admitted that the blueprints of the Empress were of better quality. The skills of Bileath were put to test with great frequency, and with each test, she stood her ground. And in those in which she didn't, Ansool ensured to let the scholars know that one fault of the Empress undermined her skills not. "One faulty blueprint of Bileath is enough to make your faith in her waver, yet countless faulty blueprints by me were not enough to shake your faith in me. Look into yourself, your spirit, and ask: why must the Empress be perfect to prove her skills? Why do you demand a level of perfection from her you demand not even from the Emperor?" But once her son grew into power, he was swift to conceal the origin of all her blueprints, to attribute them to Ansool in her stead. His wife possessed no resistance to the Voice, therefore the desire to dominate, the one not present in his father, cropped up. He could not bear to see the success of his mother, as he feared it would plant the seed of dissent within the heart of his future wife. The spirit of Ansool refused to bear this. The accomplishments of Bileath were hers, not his. His memories resisted modifications, they resisted attempts to be erased. Even in death, he fought for her prowess. [The majority of the paintings show Empress Bileath sketching blueprints, attending meetings next to Emperor Ansool, leading the Golden Legion,7 and engaging in discussions with the advisors and the scholars of Amoni-Ram. Her room is the only one where the paint chipping damage has not been observed.] splay: no splay: no A stone plaque can be found next to the entrance from the inside of SCP-8600. The inscription on the plaque reads the following: To the shrine maiden reading this: Do not ponder my identity. Who I am is irrelevant. In my stead, I encourage you to think about the Empresses, exploited by their husbands ever since the Second Betrayal. Think of the shrine maidens who came before you. Of the ones who ensured the story of these women will live on, will not fade into oblivion. And spare a thought for the Generals — blindly devoted to the whims of the Emperor, without a chance of ever regaining themselves. I have appointed the first shrine maiden myself. And her duty was to choose a successor. As the maiden appointed by your predecessor, you will need to do nothing other than keeping the Hall clean. The rooms will appear on their own. The walls will paint themselves. However many Empresses there will be in the future, the Hall will accommodate for each and every single one of them. I gave myself up to ensure that. Only two people must know of the location of the Hall: you, and the maiden who will follow in your footsteps. As within careless hands, between careless lips, the Emperors will be sure to find out about this place. The theory that SCP-8600 automatically expands itself every time a new Empress takes the throne has been confirmed. See Update (1984.11.19.). From the personal notes of Robert Bumaro Note: SCP-8600 was originally catalogued as one of the items to be submitted into the Foundation database during the Amoni-Ram Initiative. As the Initiative has since been discontinued, Robert Bumaro chose to preserve this file on his person and established the Containment Procedures outlined at the beginning of the file. Looking at these rooms, it's not difficult to understand why this place was kept such a secret. I've sat in that Throne a thousand times. I've felt the centuries pass through me a thousand times. I have seen what my predecessors did, a thousand times. I understand that no Bumaro is without sin. I have never pretended to be clean, but I loathe to sit here and be made to justify myself. I am combating a threat humanity has not faced since the infancy of civilization. Measures had to be taken. I did what had to be done to ensure Amoni-Ram had its proper leadership in me. And in Hedvig, of course. After all, what is an empire without her empress? Nothing at all. For all their wisdom, the creator of this shrine did not foresee Amoni-Ram’s destruction. No one did. The activation of the Kiss was instantaneous; a bright flash of light, and the rumbling of mountains. When the dust settled, Amoni-Ram was not the shining metropolis, the Gate to the West. It was the mausoleum for a hundred thousand dead. I imagine the mistress of this shrine never even knew her death was at hand. But I will honor her. I will ensure her wishes are followed. Only one person will know of this place, of what it contains. Me. There will be no cleaners. There will be no shrine maidens. This place is a monument to the sins of my predecessors. A temple to the rot and rust in Amoni-Ram. Then let the rust devour the core. As long as the exterior remains smooth, burnished fuladh — no one will want to question anything. From Room 7: Asum, the Silent Empress Excerpt from Chapter 15: "That Which Remains Unpunished" Asum slept in the shed, her fleshcrafting skills suppressed by the charged fuladh suit covering her body. Rustayl looked at her from where he was standing, then turned to General Hutr. "My decision is final. I will be marrying her in your stead." Hutr stared at him in bewilderment, eyes going wide underneath her helmet. "Go ahead, take your rage out on her," he encouraged his General, nudging his head at the slumbering Asum. "This is what you want, is it not?" General Hutr clenched her fists, with her gaze planted firmly on the face of her Emperor. "I will take out my rage on you, Rustayl. I can see through you like through the stained glass windows of the Palace, as we have known each other since a very young age. You are trying to turn my passion for you into a perverse force against this innocent prisoner! You are trying to convince me that this is her fault instead of yours! That her mere existence pushed your hands onto her, instead of your own hubris and thirst for conquering." She raised her fist, and flung it against her Emperor. However, her strike was never fated to land. "GO AHEAD, TAKE YOUR RAGE OUT ON HER," he repeated his words unmoved by her incoming fist. "THIS IS WHAT YOU WANT. IS IT NOT?" The fist of Hutr froze midway in the air, then it slowly lowered to her side. "You are right, my liege. Please forgive me for my insolence." "I will not be forgiving you, and you know that. However, pay attention to my words: IT IS HER FAULT, BECAUSE HER VILLAGE WAS IN THE WAY OF MY PATH OF CONQUEST. IT IS HER FAULT, BECAUSE SHE WAS SLUMBERING IN HER HOUSE AS I PASSED BY. IT IS HER FAULT, BECAUSE SHE POSSESSES SUCH AN OTHERWORLDLY BEAUTY. I REALLY, TRULY HAVE NO SAY IN THIS, NO CONTROL OVER MYSELF. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF MY ACTIONS, UP TO AND INCLUDING MY DECISION TO MARRY HER IN YOUR STEAD, COMES FROM HER EFFECT ON ME." "Understandable. Please forgive me for doubting you. You speak true words, Emperor Rustayl. It is her fault, not yours." "Punish her in my stead. Punish her as you see fit. I give you full reign." He stepped back and turned to Asum, waiting in delight for the scene that was to unfold as Hutr moved towards her. And just as he anticipated, the violence did not make him wait. Upon reaching the slumbering woman, his General yanked her up by the hair, roughly and without mercy. "What did I do to hurt you?" Asum asked in tears, when she woke up from the pain on her scalp. "You stole my husband from me," Hutr responded in Adytite. "I did not. I did not want to take part in any of this… please, understand." "Silence!" Without giving her a chance to respond, Hutr kicked Asum in the chest. The kick sent the woman flying with its sheer strength, making her hit the wall on the other side of the shed. Seeing her go limp from the sudden impact, a tyrannical glee has overcome Emperor Rustayl. [The murals of Room 7 show the razing of Asum's village by the Mekhanite army and her kidnapping by Emperor Rustayl. Several paintings are dedicated to the process of replacement of her body with fuladh components. Additionally, items worn by her are examples of the suppression technologies utilized by the ancient Mekhanites to prevent the Nälkäns and the Daevites from using their thaumaturgical skills. Following her kidnapping by Emperor Rustayl, the face of Empress Asum has been depicted featureless on every subsequent mural.] splay: no splay: no From Room 9: Fithma, the Last Empress Book 31, Song 43: "A test of convictions" And Shabril sat on the fuladh throne, Deep in thought. For he knew not what to do. Every bit of support was needed, With the forces of the Covenant and the Nälkä, But he knew not whether to send His wife, Fithma, into the battle To aid the rescue of his people. "We already have our one woman, Shahansha, On the frontlines, no? My wife out there would Surely be too much." To which his advisor shook his head, and spoke: "Now is not the time, Surely you understand? I know through care you have ensured, And so did the Emperors before you, That no woman may go too high in the ranks Of the Golden Legion, Other than Shahansha herself, But I repeat myself: Now is not the time." But Shabril wanted not to send his wife out, Even with Amoni-Ram needing defense. "You have to understand, My wife was not made for battle, For she spent her life in the palace, Servicing me and the people. So surely, you do not expect me to Send her out into the danger, unprepared, And risk her life?" To which his advisor shook his head again, and spoke: "Your words are as two-toned As the gold and silver on your armor. For I know that the Empress Is as skilled at flying as the most skilled general. As were all the empresses before her, As long as they possessed wings, And you know that too. "And do not forget, Emperor, This is not the first time I heard you argue. Your concern for her life was nothing but A thought hastily amended to the end To move me. As a trick it could work, If you were talking with somebody, Who knew you not." And Shabril wanted not to give merit to such words, Yet he had to admit that his advisor was right. And still, he was not ready to give in. "Surely you understand, That the convictions of Mekhane Make it a necessity to keep Women down low, Unless making a statement, Do you not?" To which his advisor shook his head For the third time now, And spoke: "Who will there be there for you to Uphold your convictions to, If this city will be uprooted by the Covenant like an unwanted weed And excised by the Nälkä like an unwanted tumor? Save your people first, and only then Will you get to worry about Where Empress Fithma should and should not be. And forgive me for speaking as such, Emperor Shabril, But it appears to me you care not about convictions As much as you claim to. For if you did, you would not let me Stand here, and question your ways Without a due punishment." And Shabril hid his face Behind the back of his fuladh palm, And sighed, for the man was right. "You speak truth, my advisor, And I do not like that. But you would be right in that My citizens come first, convictions later. I am unable to believe I was So blinded by this," Gestured he at the throne, "To forget what we must do. Summon Fithma posthaste, And I will tell her what her job will be. And summon our shahansha too, for I have orders for her as well." [The paintings of the room for the most part depict scenes from the last battle for Amoni-Ram. Nälkän flesh beasts and Daevite sorcerers are shown fighting the Mekhanite soldiers. Empress Fithma is shown flying around the battleground, rescuing citizens and placing them near entrances into the Undercity. The murals end abruptly, leaving the lower half of the wall completely empty. The last paintings show a power surge washing over Amoni-Ram and citizens, as well as soldiers from all sides, dying from its impact.] splay: no splay: no Update (1984.11.19.) On the 19th of November, 1984, a 10th room appeared inside SCP-8600, dedicated to Dr. Nussbaum. Its manifestation happened following the conclusion of the marriage ceremony. From Room 10: Hedvig, the Golden Empress Inscription found above the entrance A new light shone upon Amoni-Ram With the arrival of the Mechanist and the Scholar. Empress Hedvig was soft, intelligent, She knew her craft well and knew her tools of trade. With their guiding hands, She unearthed the abandoned city While Emperor Robert breathed life into it. However, as his predecessors, Robert was unable to resist the calling of the Voice. All he showed was stubborn denial, While his mind was already set. So he did not hesitate to plunge his blade into his peer. An eye and a tooth for nothing. The cycle did not break with the new generation. The scholarly past has been left behind, In its stead she received her golden wings. Her intelligence and skills have been sanded off, Forced to take upon the role of the General and the Empress. Her agency outshone by her purpose, Was this a fair exchange? [The murals of the room are unfinished. Their focus is on the life of Saint Hedvig before the Amoni-Ram Initiative. The last paintings on the wall show the confrontation between her and Robert Bumaro, the battle for Amoni-Ram against the Foundation forces, and the marriage ceremony.] splay: no splay: no The room remained unfinished until 2006, following the conclusion of the Battle for Mamjul and Korar.8 After the forces retreated home without Saint Hedvig, the mural has been expanded with scenes of her wandering around in an unspecified desert, being guided by a spectral entity. Its centerpiece now shows her reaching up into the sky, with a translucent golden hand reaching down to her. Additionally, the following text appeared underneath the murals: With her body shattered, far away from Amoni-Ram, Weighed down by despair, by a sense of loss, Trying to find her own self, rebuild her soul. Through this, her voice finally returns. Guided by the spirits of the past, With her mind, at long last, clear. The cycle is bound to be broken. The current whereabouts of Saint Hedvig are, as of yet, unknown. Footnotes 1. Also known as Dr. Robert Silas Aram, former Foundation researcher. 2. Ancient Mekhanite city discovered by the Foundation in 1983. 3. A bronze-tinted alloy utilized by Amoni-Ram Mekhanites. 4. From here on out, every inscription has been translated from Mekhanite to English for ease of understanding. 5. Attempts to find this location are currently underway. 6. The state of disrepair the Undercity was left in led to the uncovering of said coordinates. They have since been re-concealed. 7. The designation given to the Mekhanite army of Amoni-Ram. 8. The twin cities of the Daeva, uncovered by the Foundation following the Amoni-Ram Initiative. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8600" by Miss Lapis, PiNKpePpER, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8600. 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: spaces.jpg License: CC BY 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Image is a composite that incorporates the following image: Filename: Dragonfish600.jpg Author: NASA/JPL-Caltech/Univ. of Toronto License: Public Domain Source Link: Wikimedia Commons Filename: Shataash.png Author: PiNKpePpER License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Filename: Bileath.png Author: PiNKpePpER License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Filename: Asum.png Author: PiNKpePpER License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Filename: Fithma.png Author: PiNKpePpER License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Filename: Hedvig_thumbnail.png Author: PiNKpePpER License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki Image is a composite that incorporates the following image: Filename: Hedvig.png Author: PiNKpePpER License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP Foundation Wiki |
SCP-8601 | keter | Item#: 8601 Level2 Containment Class: keter Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: keneq Risk Class: critical link to memo 0°N 0°E - Null Island. Special Containment Procedures: Civilian flight traffic is currently forbidden per ICAO policy1 within 240 NM (444.48 km) of SCP-8601 and ship traffic within 60 NM (111.12 km) to prevent witnessing of manifestation events. Unauthorized intrusions are to be deterred by agents within the maritime and aviation oversight organizations in the Gulf of Guinea. Public information about SCP-8601 is limited to the existence of a single buoy. Monthly expeditions are to be launched from São Tomé to collect and distribute accumulated debris from SCP-8601, which is to be contained in the depths of the sea without further study. Foundation personnel2, vehicles, and testing equipment should not approach beyond a safe distance of 250 m to prevent additional intersection events. Appendix A lists cautionary periods during which testing shall cease, SCP-8601 shall be evacuated, and counter-tsunami measures shall be prepared. The High-Energy Anomalies Division shall inform MAD-level organizations of notable anomalous events, after which the public relations department and seismic monitoring organizations shall execute mass cover story PR-8601-2 ("earthquake"). Generally available and special purpose Foundation computer systems shall be improved to comply with the requirements in Appendix B insofar possible. SCP-8601-1 manifestation. Description: SCP-8601 (colloquially 'Null Island') is the anomalous appearance of random objects (SCP-8601-1 instances) in the sea at the crossing of the prime meridian and the equator at exactly 0°N 0°E 0m altitude. SCP-8601-1 instances manifest instantaneously3 at the average sea level4. The objects are very varied, ranging from junk to high-tech equipment, almost always completely malformed or destroyed by the simultaneous intersection with the atmosphere, ocean, and previous instances, with temperatures ranging from 98 °C to 677 °C in 95% of cases. Manifestation events are random with discernible patterns. Grouping the suspected national origins of SCP-8601-1 instances reveals 38% more objects manifest during the local working hours, and 58% less objects manifest during local weekends or local holidays. Appendix A lists rare occasions where large amounts of instances may manifest simultaneously, resulting in high-yield events. On an average day, 1012 manifestation events occur with an average total mass of 90 Mg. Further study of instances and locating their sources and displacement are forbidden per RCT-Δt policy. Selection of recovered SCP-8601-1 instances Date Object Notes 1970-09-17 Heineken bottle of beer Largely melted but the Dutch language label is partially legible. 1970-11-06 Refrigerator-Car Footage recovered from the sunken research vessel shows a refrigerator manifesting followed by a car manifesting 2 ms afterwards, the overlapping objects merging in a high-energy event which launched the object directly at the research vessel. Containment procedures revised accordingly. 1971-04-03 Iranian 1972 calendar Somewhat burnt. Note: Already available for purchase. 1972-01-05 Digital computer equipment Destroyed, with an unusually high transistor count. 1973-04-09 1972 Jeep CJ-5 258 Six 4-speed (man. 4) Crushed. Foundation serial numbers were recovered, corresponding to a missing vehicle. 1973-08-05 California vanity license plate 'NULL' Not issued. Unpaid parking tickets. 1974-05-05 1975 German Bundesliga Almanac Forgery. 1977-02-25 Kiev-class aircraft carrier Molten. CPSU and VMF liaisons state no such vessel is missing. 1977-06-22 10-story apartment complex Origin believed to be in Malaysia. 1978-03-02 SCP-████ [DATA EXPUNGED]. 1979-12-28 Corpse Incinerated. Believed to have Moldavian ancestry. Discovery: The Foundation satellite detected a 1.2 x 1014 J explosion on 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC in the Gulf of Guinea near 0°N 0°E. Analysis indicated the event was not due to a thermonuclear detonation. Neither POTUS nor GSCPSU accepted responsibility when questioned and the event was deemed anomalous. SCP-8601 was designated after observing several manifestation events. Foundation researchers discovered a large underwater deposit of destroyed materials and testing commenced. Addendum 1980-01-06: Foundation satellites detected a 9.3 x 1012 J explosion on 1980-01-06 00:00:00 UTC at SCP-8601. NATO and WTO were immediately informed. The research team was lost and the west African coast was wrecked by the subsequent tsunami. Mass cover story PR-8601-2 was instituted and the containment procedures adjusted accordingly. The debris at SCP-8601 was determined to be predominantly vehicular components. Addendum 1999-08-22: Testing had discontinued in favor of containment after years of predictable behavior and no explanation for the high-yield events. However, a 3.2 x 1013 J explosion occurred on 1999-08-21 23:59:47 UTC. Researchers noted the 1980-01-06 and 1999-08-22 events coincided with the Global Positioning System epochs, a new technology at the time, and the 1970-01-01 event also coincided with the epoch used by many operating systems. Addendum 2000-01-01: Explosions of magnitudes ranging from 7.6 x 1012 J to 1.6 x 1013 J began on 1999-12-31 12:00:00 UTC and repeating each hour / half hour / 15 minutes for another 24 hours, mostly matching the timezones currently in use. The special containment procedures were amended with the Appendix A cautionary periods. Addendum 2019-04-07: As predicted, a 4.2 x 1013 J explosion occurred along with the third GPS epoch on 2019-04-07 23:59:42 UTC and the countermeasures undertaken to avoid tsunami damage were successful. Addendum 2020-04-17: The following information was found in the archives of Her Majesty's Royal Foundation for the Study of Curiosities and Phantasmagoria: The Royal Foundation became aware of a new island at 0°N 0°E reported by returning explorers in early 1900, which they claimed did not exist in late 1899, from which they had recovered unusual materials. Researchers were sent to the island which they determined to be composed largely from destroyed metallic objects of unknown function. The research efforts were not prioritized due to the mundane nature and remote location of the anomaly. Researchers returned to the island in early 1902 but failed to locate it. Questioning of the locals on São Tomé revealed a very destructive tsunami on Friday, 13 December 1901 which was collaborated across the Gulf of Guinea. A tsunami was also reported on new year's eve 1900 when the island might have originally appeared. RCT-Δt NOTICE Further study of SCP-8601-1 instances is hereby restricted to RCT-Δt. Containment remains under of the purview of the High-Energy Anomalies Division. + RCT-Δt/2 CLEARANCE REQUIRED - RCT-Δt/2 CLEARANCE REQUIRED (excerpt from RCT-Δt - 101+t ‘Introductory Course‘) Although RCT-Δt has the authority and duty to prosecute further temporal pollution, SCP-8601 is essential to timesink calibration, e.g. the 1970 and 2038 events are the fastest way to precisely determine the timespace frame of reference. Fluctuations in high-yield SCP-8601 events are furthermore invaluable to promptly fingerprint timelines. RCT-Δt fully supports the proposed computer system requirements, but proposals for neutralization or full containment are denied due to SCP-8601's near-thaumiel status and well-known future behavior. Appendix A - Cautionary Periods: Time Rationale 2036-02-07 06:28:16 UTC Network Time Protocol overflow. 2038-01-19 03:14:08 UTC 31-bit overflow of seconds since 1970 (Year 2038 problem). 2038-11-21 00:00:19 TAI5 Third GPS week number rollover6. 2099-12-31 12:00:00 UTC Y2.1k problem. 2106-02-07 06:28:16 UTC 32-bit overflow of seconds since 1970 (Year 2106 problem). 9999-12-31 12:00:00 UTC Y10k problem. Appendix B - Computer System Requirements: The O5 council hereby mandates the immediate worldwide discontinuance of computer systems with 32-bit timekeeping, the use of full length years (not merely 2 or 4 digits), and the upgrade of all protocols and file formats to versions with 64-bit timestamps without overflow issues within the expected lifetime of the universe. No new epochs shall be adopted to prevent further high-yield events. Non-values shall be represented using explicit null/undefined/uninitialized values of a different type instead of zero or any particular value. Further humorous requests to redesignate the anomaly as SCP-000 will be categorically denied with prejudice and reprimanded as failing to learn the essential lessons of SCP-8601 to properly distinguish no value and zero. Footnotes 1. International Civil Aviation Organization. In accordance with GOC support for cover story PR-8601-1 ("poorly made navigation software, disputed airspace, and environmental concerns"). 2. If any. Remote control is now preferred to prevent loss of life. 3. Confirmed to be less than 0.70 µs. 4. 0.0034% of instances manifest at significantly different altitudes observed up to 9.4 km above the sea. 5. UTC time varies with leap seconds as to be decided by the International Earth Rotation and Reference Systems Service in Bulletin C. 6. Recurring 19.6 year cycle, partially delayed to 2137 with CNAV 157-year cycle. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8601" by sortie, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8601. 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-8601.png Author: Eric Gaba License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Africa_location_map.svg Derivative of: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Africa_location_map.svg Additional Notes: Modified for this article with SCP identifier added Filename: SCP-8601-manifestation.jpg Name: Reel Nauti Author: Coast Guard News License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: https://www.flickr.com/photos/23412076@N06/3092490133 |
SCP-8607 | esoteric-class | Lucy is not allowed to exit the house under any circumstances. Lucy is to remain inside the house at all times. Lucy is not to leave the house. /* These two arguments are in a quirked-up CSS Module (rather than the main code block) so users can feed Wikidot variables into them. */ #header h1 a::before { content: "SCP Foundation"; color: black; } #header h2 span::before { content: "Secure, Contain, Protect"; color: black; } close Info X SCP-8607 — Pistanthrophobia: Lucy's House ◇ Day 26 of the 2024 SCP "Phobia" Anthology, by Uncannyon ◇ Content Warning: This article contains themes related to child abuse Item#: 8607 Level5 Containment Class: esoteric Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: none Risk Class: none link to memo Special Containment Procedures Lucy lives in a big house on Maple Road. It is number fourteen (14). It has red brick walls and a brown tile roof and a great big chimney. The chimney doesn’t work because it has been blocked up at the bottom, but Lucy likes to draw it with puffs of smoke coming out anyway, like a house-shaped steam train. Lucy's House Lucy’s house has eleven (11) rooms spread out across two (2) floors. There is: Lucy’s bedroom, where Lucy sleeps and draws and reads and makes things sometimes; Daddy’s bedroom; the room that was the big spare room, and then became Mummy’s bedroom, and then became the big spare room again; the little spare room, where things get put when they don’t fit anywhere else; the upstairs bathroom; the downstairs bathroom, which is still called a bathroom even though it just has a toilet and doesn’t have a bath in it; the kitchen, where Daddy and Lucy eat; the dining room, where Daddy and Mummy and Lucy used to eat on special days, like Christmas or Lucy’s birthday; the living room, where the television is; the utility room, where the washing machine and the drying machine and the other machines are; the basement room, where Daddy goes to work now. Lucy is not allowed to go into the basement room anymore because it is distracting for Daddy and it is important that Daddy is not distracted. Lucy is not allowed into the big spare room anymore because it will give her bad memories and make her upset. Lucy is not allowed to exit the house under any circumstances. Lucy is to remain inside the house at all times. Lucy is not to leave the house. Lucy should never open any of the doors or windows. Lucy should not look outside any longer than is absolutely necessary. Lucy should not talk to strangers. Lucy should always listen carefully to Daddy and do what he says. Lucy should always follow all the instructions she is given as quickly as she can. Lucy should follow the rules even if she does not always understand them. Lucy must understand that they are to protect her. Lucy must trust Daddy. Lucy should always try to be polite and well behaved. Lucy should be considerate of others. Lucy should be respectful. Lucy must finish her supper before she is allowed to have any dessert. Lucy must complete all of her homework for the day before she is allowed to watch television. Lucy must forget the past before she can be content with the present. For her safety and convenience, Lucy will remain nine (9) years old. Description Lucy has long hair that is the colour of brown. Lucy, aged 9 and a half Lucy has nice eyes that are the colour of brown and green hazel. Lucy is one metre and twenty eight and a half centimetres tall. Three positive things Lucy thinks about herself are: she is good at helping people, she is well behaved in class, she can run really fast. In her free time, Lucy likes to: go swimming, draw things, watch TV, talk to friends, go to the park. Some of Lucy’s favourite things are: Ice cream, fluffy things, pencils, her friends, Mummy. Some things Lucy doesn’t like are: people who lie, people who make too much noise in class, not being able to sleep because of shouting, Mr Buttons. Lucy is proud of her work in: Art, Music, Maths, Personal Development. Lucy would like to improve her work in: Science, English, History. Lucy finds it easier to work when: people are quiet, when the teacher explains things clearly. Lucy finds it harder to work when: she is sat away from her friends, when she is too far away from the board, when she is traveling between houses and doesn’t have time to do her homework. In the future, Lucy would like to: look after animals or make art. Lucy has earned 39 gold stars so far this year. Lucy lives with her Mummy and Daddy. █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ Lucy’s Daddy is a scientist, which is a very impressive thing to be. Not the kind of scientist who can come to parents day and talk about their job but an extra special, extra secret kind of scientist. Lucy’s Daddy works for something called the Department of Abstraction, which is part of a very important organisation that helps people all over the world. Daddy is a doctor of applied theoretics, which is a field so special and important that most people don’t even know it exists. Daddy’s important job meant that he didn’t get to see Mummy or Lucy as much as he wanted to, and that sometimes when he did come home he was very tired and needed time by himself. Lucy’s Mummy couldn’t always understand that, even though Daddy only did the job because he loved Lucy and Mummy so very, very much. Lucy is very lucky to have a Daddy who works so hard to give her such a nice house and such nice things. Lucy should be very happy. Addendum Interview Log 8607-00-00/00/0000 Interviewee: Interviewer: [ Begin Log ] Today, Lucy decides to wear the shoes with the purple rabbits on them. She was given the shoes when she was eight. They’re a little too small for her feet now and pinch at her toes, but Lucy likes rabbits. Daddy says the rabbits are actually more of a pink colour, but Lucy says they’re purple and Mummy agreed. Lucy’s favourite colour is purple. Lucy pulls open her curtains, because that is what you do in the morning even if there isn’t any point. The outside is still blank. The world looks like a piece of paper that somebody has scrunched into a ball and then tried to smooth out again. Lucy exits her room, walks down the stairs, and turns left into the kitchen. Daddy is already there. He is standing by the toaster. The toast has popped up, but it isn’t very toasted, so Daddy puts it down again. The table is set with butter and jam and marmalade and cereal and coffee and apple juice. Lucy: Where’s the milk? As soon as she has spoken, Lucy realises that she has asked what Daddy calls a Silly Question. Lucy expects to be told that it’s in the fridge and to get it herself. But Daddy doesn’t speak at first. He hunches silently over the toaster, watching the metal strips turn red. Daddy: We’re out of milk. Lucy: Oh. Lucy looks forlornly at her Lucky Loop cereal packet. The box boasts that each wheat hoop could be one of 8607 possible flavours. Lucy: No milk at all? Daddy: No. Lucy: When will we get more? Daddy is engrossed with the toaster. His finger hovers over the button to make it turn off. Daddy: I don’t think we’ll be getting any more. Lucy stares at him in confusion. Lucy: No more milk? Daddy: No. Lucy: Why? Daddy: Because things are difficult right now. Lucy: Why? Daddy: Because they are, Lulu. Lucy glowers and chews at her lip. Lucy does not like being called Lulu. Lucy’s Mommy never called her Lulu. Lucy: Whyyyyyyy? Daddy: Enough! There isn’t any milk, it doesn’t matter why. Lucy: But I need milk. Daddy: You don’t need milk. We’ve got lots of other things. Lucy: I don’t like other things! Daddy: We’ve got toast. Lucy: I hate toast! The toaster pops up. Daddy has forgotten to turn it off in time and the toast has burned. There is an ugly black patch in the middle of each piece. When toast got like that Mummy used to call it “charcoal”. Daddy makes a noise and thumps the counter top with his hand. Daddy: Damnit. Look, you can still eat the cereal. No milk isn’t going to make them taste any less of sugar and cardboard. Lucy: They’re icky dry. Daddy: Well maybe we could put some water on them. Lucy looks at Daddy as if he’s lost his mind. Lucy: Ewwwww. Daddy: Hey, better than apple juice, right? Daddy tries to crack a smile. Lucy doesn’t react. The smile withers. Daddy lifts the pieces of burned toast out of the toaster with his fingers and puts them onto his plate. Lucy sits down at the table. Lucy: I want to call Mummy. Daddy stiffens. Daddy: You can’t. The phone doesn’t work anymore. Lucy: But- Daddy: You can’t. And Mummy is gone. Daddy has explained this. Lucy: But what if I tried though? Daddy: For Christ’s sake Lucy, give it a rest. Everything outside is gone. Lucy: Maybe she could bring more milk? Daddy butters the toast so forcefully that it cracks in the middle, spraying black crunchy bits over the table. Daddy: There isn’t any more sodding milk, OK? It’s gone! It’s run out. But there are still lots and lots of things we do have that are just as good. So let’s stop worrying about the things we don’t have anymore and start appreciating what we we’ve still got, alright? Lucy stays silent. Lucy doesn’t like upsetting Daddy. It makes her feel like her stomach is being squeezed. But Lucy finds it hard to understand which things are going to make Daddy upset and which things won’t, so it is safer to not say anything at all. Lucy nods instead. Daddy: You’re going to have toast and marmalade. You like marmalade. Daddy stands up too fast and bumps into the underside of the table. It shudders and knocks his mug over, spilling coffee across the wood. Daddy: Fuck! Look at- God damn it. Lucy does not get up, but she pushes herself back into her chair as far as she can go. She imagines pushing so hard that she sinks into the wood. Daddy mops up the table with a blue cloth and then puts more bread in the toaster to make Lucy toast and marmalade. He makes it in silence, but the kind of silence that Lucy thinks means he’s still upset. He forgets to put on the butter first, and there is too much marmalade. Lucy is thirsty but does not ask if she can have a drink. The two eat without talking. Eventually, Lucy finishes her food and Daddy puts their plates into the sink. Daddy: Well, I should be getting some work done. What do you want to do? Lucy kicks her legs under the table. She would like to visit her friend Janey. She would like to go outside. She would like to talk to Mummy. Lucy: I want to watch TV. Daddy nods. Daddy: Alright honey, but you know the rules. Homework first. Daddy goes to the cupboard in the corner of the kitchen and takes a thick green book from a stack of other thick, colourful books. Daddy: Maths. It isn’t real homework. It wasn’t set by any of Lucy’s teacher’s at school. They’re study books that Mummy and Daddy bought, and most of them are too young for her now. Daddy puts the green book on the table in front of Lucy and opens it to a random page. It’s one that Lucy thinks she’s already done, but she doesn’t say anything. Daddy gets her a piece of squared paper and an unsharpened pencil. Daddy: There, you’re all ready. I’m going to be doing a bit of maths today too as it happens, so we’ll be in it together. You and me. Daddy seems to be waiting for a response, but Lucy can't think of anything to say. She puts a finger on the pencil and rolls it back and forth across the table top. It makes a clacking sound. Clack clack clack clack clack. Daddy: Alright, it's high time I got going. You be good, OK? Love you Lulu. Daddy kisses Lucy on the forehead. His stubble scratches at her bare skin and she twists her head back and forth to get away from it. Daddy goes down to the basement to work. There is a muffled humming sound as the door to the basement room opens. There is a loud click as a lock slides into place. Lucy picks up the pencil and begins to read. [ End Log ] Interview Log 8607-00-00/00/0000 Interviewee: Interviewer: [ Begin Log ] Lucy quickly figures out the trick to the maths questions. The answers to each question are “8” and “6” and “0” and “7” repeated over and over again. Noticing this makes Lucy feel very clever, but she still solves all the questions properly anyway, just to be sure. Maths isn’t as much fun as when Mr Hunt used to mark her work. Daddy doesn’t put little ticks and crosses on her papers and he doesn’t give out smiley faces or stamps or gold stars. And Mr Hunt didn’t call her Lulu. Thinking about Mr Hunt makes Lucy think about Mummy again, and Janey and the park and the school and the swimming pool and absolutely everything, which she isn’t supposed to do. It will make her unhappy. When Lucy finishes her not-really-homework she does not go straight to the living room to watch television. Instead she goes and stands in front of the big glass sliding door that used to lead from the kitchen to the garden. It still does, sort of. But Lucy can’t see much of the garden anymore. Just a very few of the diamond shaped pieces of stone that make up the patio. And then nothing. Lucy stares out of the glass pane, which she is also not supposed to do. Something might look back in. Lucy is too young to know what television static looks like, but if she wasn’t then that’s how she would have described the colour outside. The world beyond Lucy’s house is covered in mist. Or something like mist. Or fog. Or even snow. But also not like any of those. It's thicker somehow. Gloopier. Greasier. Nastier. It’s like someone has filled the whole world up with water, like a giant aquarium, and then poured rotten clumpy milk into it. Huge clouds of white and grey silt drift slowly through the air, breaking apart and coalescing. It makes her feel uncomfortable to look at. But Lucy does look at it, because of the shadow. It’s on the edge of the lawn, or where the edge of the lawn had probably been. A patch of slightly thicker darkness where some object is standing, concealed from view but not completely hidden. It could be a bush, or the wheelbarrow, or one of Mummy’s big glazed pots where she used to put her favourite flowers and shrubs. Or it could be a monster. There are lots of monsters outside the house now, Daddy says. Living in the fog. Trying to get in. It’s one of the reasons that Lucy can’t go outside anymore. And Lucy has decided that the shadow on the lawn is Mr Buttons. Mr Buttons was the children’s entertainer who came to Lucy’s eighth birthday party. He had a white face and a big smile painted over his lips and bright red hair. Not red hair the way people normally have red hair, which in Lucy’s opinion is more a kind of coppery colour, but bright red like a car or a tomato or the fires of hell. Seeing Mr Buttons made Lucy scream so much that she had to go inside. She didn’t get to say goodbye to her friends or eat any of her cake until lots of pieces had already been cut out of it. Mr Buttons was supposed to leave after the party, but Lucy never saw him go. So Lucy decided that Mr Buttons had moved into the attic and was watching her at night through secret little holes in her ceiling. No matter how many times Lucy’s Mummy and Daddy took her up to the attic, Lucy could never be convinced that he was gone. The attic was full of piles of old boxes and suitcases and books. Mr Buttons could have been hiding anywhere. Even Lucy’s Mummy and Daddy must have been scared of Mr Buttons, because Lucy heard them arguing about him when they thought she was asleep. “Who else’s fault would it be? You were the one who invited him!” “And how the hell was I supposed to know what would happen? Am I meant to be fucking psychic now on top of everything else?” For a time, after he didn’t appear at her ninth birthday, Lucy had made the mistake of believing that Mr Buttons really had gone away for good. But now he was back. Waiting in the fog. Waiting for her. Lucy watches the shadow for a long, long time, resting her forehead against the glass. It doesn’t feel cold or hot. It doesn’t feel of anything. Eventually, Lucy decides that she has stared down Mr Buttons long enough. She has a nagging fear that as soon as she stops looking at the shadow then Mr Buttons will begin to move, but she cannot stay in the kitchen forever. So she goes to the sitting room and watches television. Lucy always sits on the left side of the sofa, next to the spot where Mummy used to sit. Daddy always sits in the arm chair. Lucy opens the television’s recordings menu. All of the channels are dead. She has asked Daddy for something new to watch a bunch of times, but Daddy has explained that there are no new things anymore. “Trust me Lucy. You should be grateful for what we’ve got.” Lucy finds it hard to be grateful. Lucy used to have all sorts of channels and shows and films to watch, and friends who could come over to watch them with, and the library, and the park, and trips to the supermarket, and the sky, and the sun, and the moon, and the stars. And Mummy. Lucy isn’t sure what she’s got to be grateful for now. Lucy puts on a show about gardening. It’s very boring and the presenter is old and talks too slowly, but there are pretty pictures of flowers and it’s a programme that Mummy used to watch when she was still here. Daddy hasn’t deleted it yet, maybe because there are so few things to look at. Lucy watches the gardening show for a period of time. Then, at 00:00, the recording stops abruptly right in the middle of the presenter explaining the correct way to deal with greenfly. Lucy is confused. She has watched this episode before, and knows that that this isn’t where it ends. She looks to see if she is sitting on the remote control, but it is by her side. The television switches back to terrestrial. It is set to channel 8607. The screen is showing an angry flickering pattern of lights, which Lucy knows from Personal Development could be very dangerous for someone with epilepsy and should come with a warning message. Unknown: Hello? There is a face behind the lights. It’s impossible to make out any of the features, but it’s definitely a face. Lucy does not move. Unknown: Hello? The voice is muffled, as if Lucy is listening to it from another room. Lucy tries to turn the television off with her remote, but it does not work. There is a nasty, bitter smell in the air, and there is something wrong with the television set. Whisps of white smoke are leaking out of the back of it as if something inside is on fire. Unknown: Hello there. Can you hear me? The smoke is getting thicker and darker and the flow is getting heavier. Lucy brings her right arm up to her mouth and bites at it nervously. She doesn’t know what to do. Lucy: Yes. Lucy thinks that she should probably get up and run away, but she’s too scared to move. The smoke is spreading out, climbing up to the ceiling and falling down to the floor. Unknown: Hey, are you Lucy Carmichael? The smoke is filling up the whole room now. Like a mist. Like a fog. Like something nastier. Lucy bites her hand. Lucy: I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers. The smoke is getting into Lucy’s mouth and nose and lungs. It smells of hospitals. Unknown: I’ve been looking for you a very long time Lucy. Do you think you could come a bit closer? The face moves nearer to the screen. It is white and grainy. Lucy begins to scream. Lucy: MR BUTTONS! DADDY! IT’S MR BUTTONS! [ End Log ] NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION RECORDS AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION In Lucy’s dream, she is yelling for her Daddy. She takes him by the hand and pulls him, half running half flying, to the kitchen and the big sliding glass door. “Look! Look!” she points triumphantly. The mist has fallen back and the garden is visible again. There is no shadow by the edge of the lawn, but there are hundreds and thousands of rabbits – 8607 of them – padding through the unmown grass, all moving north to south as if part of some great migration. Lucy presses her hand to the glass and feels warmth under her palm. “Look Daddy! It’s all getting better. It must be safe again. The monsters are gone.” “Oh Lucy.” Daddy has grown tall, terribly, terribly tall. So tall that the roof of the kitchen has had to disappear to fit him all in, and the space above them is black and empty. He looks down at her with so much disappointment that she could cry. “Oh Lucy, I thought you were mature enough to see by now. The rabbits aren’t purple.” — Maria Jones, Director, RAISA Interview Log 8607-00-00/00/0000 Interviewee: Interviewer: [ Begin Log ] Daddy has smashed up the television. It sits in the corner of the room, a rubble of glass and wires and plastics. Lucy is sitting on the sofa. Daddy comes back with a black bin liner and starts shovelling the pieces inside. Lucy’s eyes are shining. She kicks her legs, smacking her heels into the base of the sofa. Lucy: Daaaaddyyy, you broke the TV. Daddy: Jesus, Lucy, is that all you can think about right now? Lucy bites her fingers. Lucy: It was the TV! Lucy speaks as if that should explain everything. As if the sin of destroying a television were so obvious and so heretical that her Daddy could not possibly fail to comprehend it. Lucy: How will we watch TV? Daddy: We won’t. Daddy continues to toss fragments of the broken television set into the bag. Lucy’s upper lip is trembling. She is thinking of Mummy and the pretty flowers and the boring presenter she’ll never get to see again. Lucy: But that’s not fairrrr. Daddy hurls a fragment of metal at the floor and for the first time Lucy understands that Daddy is very, very angry. Lucy sometimes finds it difficult to know how other people are feeling. Ms Mills from school has a board of faces with different expressions, but none of them look like real faces, and none of them look like Daddy. Daddy: For fuck’s sake, it’s a sodding television! You didn’t lose a fucking limb! Lucy brings her knees up and wraps her arms around her legs. She squeezes them extra tight like she’s giving them a hug. Daddy: A god damn television. Honestly, you are such a spoiled little girl Lucy, you really are. And that's not because of me. Oh no. I didn’t do that to you. I’ve always stood on my own two feet. You know what the most important thing in life is? Resilience. Being able to keep going when things are difficult. And they don’t teach it any more. They don’t let you learn how to tough it out. How would it be if I curled up into a ball every time things got hard for me, huh? Who would look after you? Resilience. That’s why I was the one who stayed to look after you. That’s why you’re safe. You should remember that Lucy. Lucy does not understand what that means. She is focusing her gaze on the tops of her knees, pressing them together until they hurt. Daddy’s voice quietens. He crouches down in front of her, trying to look her in the eye. Daddy: Maybe it’s for the best, you know? None of that stuff… I mean, it was just reminding you of things we don’t have any more. Things that make you sad. We both need to do a better job of forgetting about that stuff, OK? Lucy does not know how to reply to this. Forgetting things isn’t something you choose to do. It’s something your brain does when years and years and years have passed or when you don’t have enough space in your head or when something is really boring. It’s easy to forget homework or spellings or the dates on which things happened in history. It’s a lot harder to forget flowers. But Daddy is waiting for her to say something. Lucy does not like making Daddy upset. Lucy: Okay. Daddy: That's a good girl. Daddy ruffles Lucy’s hair in a way that Lucy hates almost as much as being called Lulu. Lucy does not like being touched, except when she wants to be. Daddy: We're in this together Lucy. No matter what. And I am always going to look after you. Daddy straightens up. Daddy: It's going to be fine, you'll see. Plenty of kids don't have a television. Most of them end up quite a bit smarter. Daddy goes back to throwing bits of the television into the bag, but they’re not making such a loud noise. Lucy peers at the wreckage, and thinks about how to ask the question she wants to ask without making Daddy shout at her. Lucy: Why did it have to get broken? Daddy: It wasn’t safe. Lucy: Why? Daddy: It just wasn’t. That is not an answer, but Lucy is careful not to say “Why?” again. She thinks for a moment. Lucy: Who was the person in the TV? Daddy: It doesn’t matter. Lucy: Why was it smoking? Daddy: You don’t need to worry about it. Lucy: Was Mr Buttons in the TV? Daddy: Don’t ask stupid questions. Lucy chews angrily on her lip. She doesn’t think it was a stupid question. She doesn’t understand what’s so stupid about it. Lucy: Why won’t you tell me? Daddy: You wouldn’t understand. The pieces flying into the bag are clanging more loudly again. Lucy: How can I understand if you don’t tell me? Daddy: Just trust me Lulu. Lucy: Don’t call me Lulu! Daddy’s lips thin. The pieces of television go bang!-bang!-bang! Daddy: I don’t know why you get so angry about that name, I really don’t. It makes everyone think you’re very childish. Lucy: I’m not angry! Daddy: You are. You're raising your voice and you're being stroppy. Lucy: I’m not! Lucy wants to cry. She feels silly and stupid and she isn’t sure why. Daddy nods, satisfied, and picks up the bin bag. Daddy: We don’t need a television. There are plenty of things we can do together as a family. [ End Log ] Interview Log 8607-00-00/00/0000 Interviewee: Interviewer: [ Begin Log ] Daddy has given Lucy time to “Cool Off” which is an expression Lucy hates. When everything inside her feels like it’s fizzing and popping she doesn’t want to be cool, she wants to move and talk and be taken seriously. There are bite marks on her arms. Daddy is not going back to work today so that he can spend more time with Lucy. Daddy is going to help Lucy with Arts & Crafts. Lucy does not really need Daddy’s help with Arts & Crafts, but she does love to draw. Ms Mills from school had called her a “great artist in training” when Mummy and Daddy came in to see her, and it was the proudest Lucy had ever felt in her life. Ms Mills took her for Art and for Personal Development and was in charge of the Leg Up Club that Lucy went to before school on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Lucy is in the kitchen. She gets her art folder from the cupboard. Lucy’s art folder is a red paper folder that Ms Mills gave her so she could carry her pictures to school and back. Lucy used to show all her pictures to Ms Mills, and tell her what was happening in them. Ms Mills always found them interesting and asked Lucy lots of questions. Lucy loved talking about her drawings. Lucy opens her art folder and starts going through the pages. There is a picture of a large rabbit. It is purple with blue eyes. There is a picture of Lucy, with Lucy’s friend Janey from school and Lucy’s friend Megan who Lucy met at the swimming pool. They haven’t met in person yet but Lucy thinks they would like each other a lot. There is a picture of a squirrel from the park. It is red. The park is only meant to have grey squirrels in but Lucy is sure that she saw a real red one once, just for a moment. Daddy said she couldn’t have. Mummy said that anything was possible and she wished that she had seen it too. There is a picture of Lucy’s house. Clouds of smoke are puffing out of the chimney. The house number is 8607, which is wrong. There is a picture that started off as a jellyfish but then became a space alien. It is purple. It is blasting green energy from its tendrils. It is surrounded by stars. There is a picture of a big yellow crescent moon with a smile. Lucy made the curve of the moon by drawing part of the way around a mug, which Ms Mills said was very smart thinking. There is a picture of Mr Buttons. He is very close, peering out of the page like he’s waiting to climb through. His face is whiter than the paper it’s drawn on. There is a picture of some flowers. Some are red and some are yellow and some are blue but most of them are purple. Lucy finally finds a bundle of blank pieces of paper and pulls them out. Daddy is making one of the paper puppets that Lucy got from the Leg Up Club. It has two arms and two legs and a body that have all already been cut out. It comes with some special twisty pins so you can put the limbs onto the body and have them move back and forth. Daddy: What do you think Lucy? Should I make this one you or me? Lucy furrows her brow gives the puppet her full attention. Art is very important. Lucy: Hmmmm. You. It looks more like you. Daddy smiles. Daddy: Alright, this one will be me. We can make one for you afterwards and then we can tell stories with them, how about that? Lucy nods enthusiastically. Lucy: You can stick their backs to a ruler or a pipe cleaner and then you can hold them behind a table so it looks like they're walking on it. Ms Mills had taught her that. She had a big stood-up rectangle that she called a "Paper Puppet Theatre". Daddy: Oh ho. You'll have to show me how to do it. Daddy is using some of Lucy’s pencils without asking. Ms Mills says that using someone else’s things without asking is very rude and if you do it people won’t want to be your friend. Lucy doesn’t really mind though. It’s nice to be doing art with someone again. It has been ███████████ since Lucy last had an art class. Lucy frowns, because something about that thought was wrong. She tries it again. It has been longer than Lucy can remember since Lucy last had an art class. That feels a little better. Lucy can’t remember just how long it’s been since she last had art with Ms Mills, but forgetting things when you’re away from school is easy. But… She frowns. The first time she tried to think back there had been something else there. A big icy block of nothingness, like a completely different memory altogether. Lucy tries to think about it some more but she can’t really remember what it was like, the same way you can go from remembering to forgetting a dream in the few seconds after you wake up. Lucy decides to stop thinking about it and pulls one of the pieces of paper towards her. Daddy is drawing a shirt onto his paper puppet. Lucy doesn’t know what she wants to draw. Normally she draws things that she’s seen recently, or places that she’s been, but there isn’t anything new in the house and there isn’t anywhere else to go. She tries to draw a butterfly but the wings on each side of it don’t match properly. She tries to draw a steam train but it doesn’t come our right and the wheels go all weird and small. She tries to draw a garden full of rabbits but for some reason it makes her feel sad. So Lucy decides to draw her family. She draws herself in the middle with Daddy on the left and Mummy on the right holding her hands. She gives Mummy a big purple smile and she gives Daddy a smaller red smile. She puts some big purple hearts floating around Mummy too. Daddy: Lucy… I told you not to do this again. Lucy flinches. Daddy is staring at her with one of the expressions that Lucy can’t read. His lips are a hard line. His voice is low and rough. Lucy tries to work what she has done. She hasn’t broken anything. She hasn’t made a mess. She hasn’t gotten colouring pen marks on the table. Lucy: What? Daddy: I told you, I don’t want pictures of her in this house! Lucy had forgotten. Lucy imagines herself shrinking slowly smaller and smaller until her head dips below the kitchen table where she can’t see Daddy’s face. Lucy: Why? Daddy: Because it’s my bloody house and I said so! Daddy reaches out and snatches the picture up from the table. Lucy tries to reach out and catch it but Daddy has already pulled it away. There is a horrible noise as Daddy rips a third of the picture off and crumples it up. Mummy’s arm is still there, holding Lucy’s hand, but everything else has gone. Lucy lets out a strangled scream. Her eyes are hot and full of tears. Lucy: My picture! My picture! You ruined itttt! Daddy opens his mouth, and then seems to sag and age before her eyes. His shoulders slump. Daddy: I’m- Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry Lucy. It’s a really good picture. We’ll- I’m going to put it on the fridge, OK? Lucy is crying. Her picture is ruined. Her picture is ruined. Daddy sticks the remaining two thirds of the drawing to the front of the fridge with the special magnet, the rectangular one with the photograph of the lemurs. Daddy: Shh shh shh, it’s OK, it’s all OK. It looks lovely. Oh Lucy I’m sorry. Daddy didn’t mean to. It’s OK. It’s all OK. Lucy takes a deep noisy sniff. Her cheeks are red and her eyes are red and snot is dripping from one of her nostrils. Lucy: Why can’t I draw pictures of Mummy? Daddy clenches his teeth and then steadies himself. He takes a big sigh. Daddy: Because she’s gone, Lucy. Everything out there is gone. And it’s not going to come back. Daddy tries to place a hand on Lucy’s shoulder but she bristles and shakes until he takes it off. Daddy: It’s not healthy to obsess over her. It’s not good for you. All it does is make you feel sad. It’s better to just forget about how things used to be and think about we’ve got here now. You and me. Isn’t that enough? Lucy: No! Lucy stomps across the kitchen floor and snatches the lemur magnet from the fridge. Her torn drawing falls to the ground. The lemur magnet is special. Daddy had bought it for Lucy when they went to the zoo together. It was the first trip Lucy had been on without Mummy, and Lucy had been terribly grumpy the whole way through until they came to the lemur enclosure. The lemurs made funny faces and Lucy made funny faces back and then Daddy made the funniest faces of all and Lucy had laughed and laughed. It was like a magic spell had been broken and the rest of the day was quite nice, even when it rained. Lucy: If everything’s gone then the lemurs are gone too, so you can’t keep this! Lucy throws the magnet across the room towards the bin. It misses by a few inches and drops behind it. Daddy: Lucy! You pick that up right now! Lucy: No! I hate you I hate you I hate you! I hope Mr Buttons gets you! Lucy throws more fridge magnets at Daddy, numbers and letters and pictures. One catches him on the forehead. Lucy is shouting and screaming and crying. Daddy is shouting and screaming. It goes on for some time. At 00:00, Lucy is sent to her room. [ End Log ] NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION RECORDS AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION In Lucy’s dream, it is her Daddy, not her Mummy, who is reading her a bedtime story. He doesn’t know how to hold the book right, and bends the pages so far back that an ugly crease appears on the spine. Lucy wants to shout that he’s ruining it but she can’t move an inch, not even to open her mouth. The story is a lot like Rapunzel, only instead of an evil witch putting the princess in a tower it is a good and loving king who wants to protect her from all the evils of the world. “Everything is over now,” he tells her. “But you can be safe here forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever.” One day a handsome prince rides by and the princess calls out to him, begging to be saved. Only when she lets down her hair and the prince climbs up to the top of the tower the story goes all wrong. The prince’s ears are too long and his eyes are too sharp and he has too many teeth – 8607 of them! And he won’t stop laughing in a way that shows them all off. Lucy wants to tell Daddy that he’s getting mixed up with Little Red Riding Hood, and that Mummy would never make that mistake, but he just looks at her sadly. “████████████████████████████████████████████████,” he says. Lucy feels so cold and so very, very afraid. — Maria Jones, Director, RAISA Interview Log 8607-00-00/00/0000 Interviewee: Interviewer: [ Begin Log ] Lucy is woken by a horrible noise. She doesn’t know what the noise was, or exactly what it sounded like, but the echo of it is still in her ears and the little hairs on the back of her neck are standing on end. There is a heavy feeling at the bottom of her stomach, just like when she broke Mummy’s favourite mug. The noise came from below her, from the kitchen. Lucy told Daddy that she hated him. She scrambles out of bed. Lucy told Daddy that she hoped Mr Buttons would get him. She takes the stairs two at a time. Lucy told Daddy such horrible things. And now. And now. There is a shape lying on the floor of the kitchen. No, there is a person lying on the floor of the kitchen. No, there is a body lying on the floor of the kitchen. But it isn’t Daddy. Daddy is standing over the body, panting. There is a hammer in his right hand. The top of the hammer is red. Daddy looks tired and old. The body is perfectly still. Its head is angled away from the kitchen door so Lucy cannot see its face. It has messy brown hair with a dark puddle beneath it. Lucy: Who’s that? Daddy: Go back to your room, Lucy. Lucy: Are they dead? Daddy: Your room, Lucy. Lucy: Why- Daddy: GO TO YOUR ROOM, LUCY! RIGHT NOW! Daddy turns. The hammer is still in his hand. He waves it as he speaks. Lucy flees up the stairs as fast as her legs can carry her. Lucy enters her bedroom without closing the door and climbs trembling onto her bed. She sits cross legged right in the middle and drags the bed sheets over her upright body like a big hooded cloak. This is how Lucy sits when she is upset and wants to be seen, but does not want to be seen to want to be seen. Covering herself with the sheets make it clear that she doesn’t want to be seen by anyone, but sitting upright makes sure that she still can be. That is how Lucy sees it, in the secret, private depths of her soul. When Lucy lay down in bed to cry, no one would notice. But when she sat up in bed with the sheets over her head and the door open, then her Mummy would come in and be with her. She was always very quiet. Lucy wouldn’t notice her Mummy at all until she felt the familiar pressure of her weight as she sat on the bed beside her. Lucy wouldn’t say anything and for a while Mummy wouldn’t either. She would wait until her daughter was ready, and then a hand would slip under the bed sheets and take hold of Lucy’s. Big and hot and safe. The hand would give her a squeeze, and some of the sadness would pour out of her like water being wrung from a sponge. Only then, in her softest voice, would her Mummy ask what was wrong. Sometimes it would be people at school being mean or making up lies or making too much noise even when they knew it upset her. Sometimes it would be Daddy being rude or loud or not understanding something. And sometimes it wouldn’t be anything Lucy could understand or express. There would just be sadness and anger and frustration inside her and she wouldn’t know why or what to do with it. And Mummy would listen, and talk, and little by little she would pull Lucy out from under the sheets and Lucy would feel better, even by just a little bit. Lucy waits in the darkness, with tears drying on her cheeks. There is no pressure. There is no hand. Time goes by. Lucy does not know how much time because when the world ended all the clocks in the house were taken away and the sky doesn’t tell her anything anymore. Lucy: I’m sorry. Lucy is not sure who she is saying it to, or what she is saying sorry for. But everything has gone wrong that means that it’s probably her fault. Lucy: I’m sorry. She whispers it again and again and again. [ End Log ] Interview Log 8607-00-00/00/0000 Interviewee: Interviewer: [ Begin Log ] An undefined amount of time continues to pass. No one comes up to see her, so eventually Lucy goes down. She tiptoes along the corridor, peering ahead of her in case Daddy is there. She sits on the top step, and then pulls herself down so she’s sitting on the next step, and then the next, and then the next. No one comes to shout at her. Lucy stops on the last-but-one of the stairs, which puts her partly behind the big banister post at the bottom. She wraps her arms around it. The kitchen door is open, and the body on the floor is gone. Daddy is still there. There is a bucket and a mop and a row of the coloured bottles from under the sink that Lucy is not allowed to touch. The floor is wet. Daddy turns and sees her. His face is red and sweaty and shining. He gives her a strained smile. Daddy: Lucy. He crouches down and holds out his arms as if to give her a hug. Lucy doesn’t move. She squeezes the banister post tighter. Lucy: Were they dead? Daddy gets up again and lets his arms drop. His smile drops too. Daddy: Yes Lucy. They were dead. Lucy pulls her bottom lip into her mouth and bites at it because it gives her more time before she has to speak again. Lucy: Did you do it? Daddy is watching her intently. Lucy cannot read his expression. Daddy: Yes Lucy. I did it. To protect us. Lucy presses her nails into her elbows and pinches at the flesh. Lucy: Was it Mr Buttons? Daddy: No, it wasn’t that stupid- No. No, it wasn’t Mr Buttons. Lucy nods. This made sense. Mr Buttons didn’t have brown hair. And he probably couldn’t be killed. Lucy: Who was it? Daddy seems to think about this. Daddy: It was a monster. From outside. It wanted to hurt us. Lucy: It didn’t look like a monster. It looked like a person. Daddy: A lot of monsters look like people. Lucy presses her cheek harder into the banister, until only one eye is peeking around it. Lucy: Are you a monster? Daddy seems to slump without moving. His face greys. And then his lips twist. Daddy: Jesus Christ Lucy. Lucy shrinks back. She has said something wrong. Daddy: How the fuck can you sit there and ask me something like that? After everything I’ve- After everything! Daddy paces around the kitchen, turning left and right as if hunting for some imaginary audience. His eyes are wide. His breath is heavy. He gestures at the air. Daddy: Jesus Christ is that how she taught you to see me? Of course she did. Always! Always! She always wanted to turn you against me. She always wanted to undermine me. Daddy is shouting. His voice is loud and strained and strangely high, like something is squeezing his throat. Lucy lets go of the banister and tries to get up but Daddy shouts so loudly that her legs go out from under her and she lands on the step again with a bump. Daddy: No! I didn’t say you could leave! I am talking! I! Am! Talking! You are going to show me the respect I deserve as your father and listen to me! You are going to understand! Lucy’s body is shaking as if she’s cold, but she does not feel cold. She digs her fingers into the stair carpet, pushing her nails in as far as they will go. Daddy: All I ever- all I have ever done is work to make you both safe and comfortable and and and- and happy. Was that so wrong? I could have- I could have been like a thousand layabout fathers. I could have left you to fend for yourselves. But I worked. I worked hard. And she hated that. She hated it. She hated that I was someone important, that I was doing something worthwhile. She hated how much I made. She would have rather we were living off welfare cheques just so she could look down her nose at me. She was always desperate for something to be wrong. Always looking for excuses to put me down and make me suffer. Just look at what she did to you. Lucy is holding her breath. She does not know why she is holding her breath, only that she is afraid that if she breathes too loudly something bad will happen. Daddy: When you two were together it was like I wasn’t even there! Like you had some secret language I didn’t get to understand! When she came home you would always jump up and run to her and tell her things, and how many times did you bother coming to see me when I got home? How many times did you tell me anything about your day, or- or anything? Lucy bites her lower lip again. She has chewed at the skin until it’s thin and tender and when her teeth dig into it this time she can taste blood. She focuses on the taste. Daddy: Was that fair? Was that fair on me? Being cut out of your life? My own daughter? I was the one who made sure you could live here! I was the one who bought you toys and and games and sweets and you never ever ever showed me the kind of- of- of- Daddy shakes his hands like he’s trying to wring the word out of the air. He gives up. Daddy: - as you showed her. Never. Did she tell you to do that? Did you talk about it? Did she spend the days I was away lying about me? Daddy slams his fist onto the kitchen table making it jump and wobble. Lucy jerks like a shockwave has passed through her. Daddy: I did everything for you. For both of you. And nothing was ever enough to make you treat me the way you treated her. It was like you hated me. Like you were raised to hate me. Lucy is doing the thing where she takes in very short, very shallow breaths and then pushes them out again. It makes her head feel like it’s swimming. Daddy: Even after everything. She abandoned us Lucy! When things get difficult, when there are problems, some people care enough to want to work on those problems, and some people just give up. Because they don’t care. Because they never cared as much as I did. I was the one who wanted to work through things, for you! To give you a proper family. And she was the one who couldn’t be bothered, who destroyed everything we had for- for a few- Daddy fades into silence. A few moments of ragged breathing pass. And then he drives his fist into the wall, letting out a noise that is half a scream of pain and half a bellow of fury. Daddy: How is it fair!? How is it fair that I’m treated like some kind of monster? I was the one who fucking cared! I was the one who tried! I was the one who wanted to protect you! Do I ever get appreciated? Do I ever get a single thank you? Tears are running down Lucy’s cheeks. Her insides feel like they’re trying to squeeze themselves up into a ball. Her stomach hurts. Her head hurts. Her lip is bleeding. Lucy: I want… I want… I want to call Mummy. [DATA EXPUNGED] Lucy runs up the stairs on all fours, sobbing. She dives into her bedroom and slams the door. She buries herself in the bed. Daddy doesn’t follow her. [ End Log ] NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION RECORDS AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION In Lucy’s dream, something is very wrong indeed. She is running. In Lucy’s dream, her father is down on the lawn with his wallet, pressing brightly coloured bank notes into Mr Button’s hand. Mr Buttons looks up at her window and winks. His smile is too big for his face. In Lucy’s dream she hasn’t been to school in years and years. Ms Mills is sadly clearing out her class tray and throwing all of her pictures into the recycling. Lucy tries to shout and scream and beg her to stop but she is too far away to hear. In Lucy’s dream the prince is climbing the tower like an insect, his limbs stretching and twisting as he scampers up the stonework. He won’t stop laughing and pulling funny faces. In Lucy’s dream, she can’t stop running. In Lucy’s dream, this mist parts and the shadow on the lawn is Mummy. She has frozen to death all alone and her body is as cold and grey as a statue. In Lucy’s dream, the butterflies are angry at her for not drawing their wings right. They hurl themselves at her face while Daddy tries to swat at them with a hammer. Lucy tries to tell him that it’s not their fault, but when she starts to talk the butterflies swarm into her mouth. Daddy begins to take aim. In Lucy’s dream, Lucy’s house is in a snow globe. Mr Buttons shakes it, and all her friends “ooh” and “aah” as the mist swirls behind the glass. Mr Buttons shakes the globe so hard that the house itself breaks away and begins to dance through the air like just another snowflake, faster and faster. In Lucy’s dream, she has been running for as long as she can remember. In Lucy’s dream, her class has gone on a field trip to where Daddy works. Everyone else is nodding and taking notes on their clipboards as Daddy talk about his job but Lucy has not been paying attention and doesn’t know what he’s talking about. She wonders what an abstraction is, and for that matter what a department is, and finds that she has accidentally shouted the questions out loud. The rest of the class is laughing at her. Daddy looks so disappointed and so, so old. In Lucy’s dream she is trying to brush her teeth but they’re all falling out into the sink and getting washed down the plug hole. Mr Buttons calls down through the ceiling and tells her that he’ll replace them with some of his when she falls asleep. In Lucy’s dream, Lucy has broken Mummy’s favourite mug. Mummy leaves and never comes back. In Lucy’s dream, she has never been more tired in her life. In Lucy’s dream her rabbit shoes have teeth all around the openings, ready to bite down on her ankles. “You have to put them on, Lucy,” her Daddy tells her. “They’ll stop you wanting to walk outside.” In Lucy’s dream, Mr Buttons goes to the zoo. It is choked with fog but the animals are still there. Lucy screams that she is sorry, so sorry, but it doesn’t make a difference. Mr Buttons finds the lemurs, the exact ones from the picture, and smashes their skulls in with Daddy’s hammer. He throws the bodies behind the bin in the kitchen for Lucy to find the next day. In Lucy’s dream, Daddy is shooting rabbits through the window in the kitchen. “Not purple,” he says. “Still not purple.” In Lucy’s dream, there is a nasty smell like burned metal and hospitals. In Lucy’s dream, the television is leaking milk. Daddy is kicking it and throwing it around the room, trying to make it stop. “There isn’t any milk left,” he snaps. “We have to make do with what we have.” In Lucy’s dream, great holes thousands of miles wide open all across the face of the earth and belch out white smog. Lucy’s Mummy is falling and falling and falling. In Lucy’s dream, Lucy has fallen apart like a rag doll. Her limbs are in a big pile and Daddy is sewing her back together again. “I’m so sorry, oh I’m so sorry honey. I didn’t mean it. This will make you feel better. Trust me, darling. Trust me.” Lucy tries to tell him that his stitching is all wrong and that she wants the thread to be purple, but her mouth is just a line of sewn on buttons in the shape of a smile. In Lucy’s dream, Lucy is running but doesn’t think that she’s actually moving. There is nowhere to go. Nowhere at all. In Lucy’s dream she has tried to go through the door to her bedroom but instead it’s opened into the basement where she isn’t allowed to be. The room is full of █████████████. They’re cold and sharp and make Lucy’s head want to split open. Daddy is shouting at her to leave. Lucy tries to escape but the stairs grow longer and longer and longer until she can’t see the top. In Lucy’s dream, Mummy’s arm has been torn in half, right where Daddy ripped Lucy’s picture. Lucy is screaming and trying to let go but the bleeding stump of a hand is holding onto hers like a vice. Lucy says that she’s sorry over and over and over. In Lucy’s dream, the dead body on the kitchen floor wakes up. It drags itself slowly up the stairs and knocks on her bedroom door. “Are you Lucy?” it asks. “Are you Lucy Carmichael?” The handle turns. — Maria Jones, Director, RAISA Interview Log 8607-00-00/00/0000 Interviewee: Interviewer: [ Begin Log ] Lucy wakes up. There is an unfamiliar pressure on her bed. Daddy is sitting there. His body is pressing down on the lower half of her right leg. Daddy: You still awake honey? Daddy’s eyes are bloodshot. He smells nasty and acrid. Daddy: I’d do anything for you, you know that? You know that Lucy? For you. For both of you. Lucy tries to gently pull her leg free. It doesn’t move. Daddy doesn’t seem to notice. Daddy: You don’t have to worry ‘bout it, OK? OK Lucy? You don’t have to worry about it. About anything at all. I can keep it going, jus’ like this, long as we need. Long as we need. You and me, Lulu. Forever. Long as we need. His voice is slurred. Lucy’s leg is trapped fast. Daddy: You’re gonna be OK, Lucy. You’ll be OK. I love you, you know. Love you so much. You love me, Lucy? Lucy is holding the bed sheets over her mouth. She lowers them slowly. Lucy: You’re on my foot. Daddy stands up unsteadily. Daddy: Ah, shit. Sorry honey. Sorry Lulu. Lucy. Lucy Lucy Lucy. He stumbles slightly as he moves towards the door. Daddy: I’m going back. I’m- I’m doing it for you, Lucy. All for you. You’ll understand. You’re such a smart girl. Daddy’s so proud of you honey. Daddy treads on one of Lucy’s shoes as he leaves. One with purple rabbits. He staggers backwards, almost tripping, and then kicks it out of his way. It vanishes under the bed. Lucy doesn’t say anything. [ End Log ] Interview Log 8607-00-00/00/0000 Interviewee: Interviewer: [ Begin Log ] Today, Lucy just wears socks. Lucy pulls opens her curtains, because that is what you do in the morning even if there isn’t any point. The outside is still blank. The world looks like a whiteboard from school, one of the old ones that’s had years and years of pen marks not quite erased from it. Lucy exits her room, walks down the stairs, and turns left into the kitchen. Daddy is already there. He is siting at the table. He is wearing the same shirt as he wore yesterday, with the same stains. His plate has crumbs on it. The table is set with butter and jam and marmalade and cereal and coffee and apple juice. There are cans and glass bottles in the sink. There is no milk. Daddy: Morning honey. Lucy’s lip has healed but it still feels rough and swollen in her mouth. She sits at the table. Daddy: You sleep OK sweetie? Lucy’s cheek is still sore. She twists a flap of the tablecloth between her fingers. Daddy: I've got some plans for us today. Big plans. Daddy is getting up as he speaks. He feeds bread into the toaster. He has not looked Lucy in the eye. Daddy: You know what our problem is? We haven’t been doing enough together. I’ve been stuck downstairs so much, and you’ve been glued to that TV, and, you know, well, maybe all of this is just the spur we needed. We’ve got this whole house to have fun in, and I’ve got you, and you’ve got me. And that’s all we really need, right? Lucy waits silently, but it becomes clear that an answer is expected. She looks at the tablecloth and nods her head. A small twitch of emotion passes over Daddy’s face. Daddy: Look, Lucy- There is a knock at the front door. It's a loud, forceful, rapid knock, like the kind that the police make in television shows. Thump-thump-thump. There is perfect stillness. Daddy’s lips become pressed and thin. Lucy turns around in her chair. Daddy: Lucy, go to your room for me, OK? Lucy wants to see if the shadow is still on the lawn. Daddy: Right now. Lucy: But- The knock repeats itself. Thump-thump-thump. Daddy: Lucy. Whatever it is, I’ll take care of it. Just go to your room for me. Please. Lucy slides her chair back. She leaves the kitchen. She climbs the stairs. Daddy is making his way to the basement, his feet hammering on the bare wood steps. Lucy hesitates. A part of her wants to hang her head down through the banister and see whatever is going to happen happen. But she thinks better of it. What if it is Mr Buttons? What if Daddy sees her? Lucy enters her bedroom and climbs back onto her bed. There is a third knock. It is slower, and quieter, and it comes from Lucy’s window. Unknown: Lucy? Lucy Carmichael? There is a shape in the mist outside. A hazy blotch of darkness. Lucy pulls the bed sheets up over her like a hooded cloak. Lucy: Go away. There is a brief pause. Unknown: Hey Lucy, do you think you could open the window for me so we can talk a little bit? It’s really important. The voice is feminine. It sounds gentle and precise, and reminds Lucy of some of her teachers at school. It does not sound like Mr Buttons at all. Unknown: I’m afraid we don’t have a lot of time Lucy. Could I come in, just for a moment? The bright white outline of an object appears on Lucy’s window panes. It looks like a hand. It has five fingers. But monsters live in the mist. And monsters can look like people. Lucy: Why are you outside? There is another pause. Unknown: Well, I’ve been looking for you, Lucy. Which is not quite an answer to the question Lucy asked. Lucy decides to ignore this. Lucy: How come? Unknown: I’m part of group of people whose job it is to take care of people who need it. And right now my job is to look after you. This, of course, is something that a monster could easily say. Lucy: Like a policeman? Unknown: A little bit like that. Lucy: Do you have a badge? The voice hesitates for a moment. Unknown: I sure do. Do you want to see? If you open the window I can show it to you. Lucy thinks about this. Lucy’s school had had an assembly about policemen. It was apparently very important to do what they said. Lucy: I- There is a loud bang from downstairs. Lucy draws the bedsheets tighter around herself. Her cheek throbs. Lucy: Daddy says I’m not allowed to open any of the windows. There is a third, even longer silence. When the voice begins to speak again it is lower and even softer. Unknown: Lucy, I know things are probably really confusing at the moment. You have gone through so much, and you have been so brave, I wish I didn’t have to make things more difficult. But you need to trust me. Your father… he isn’t a safe person to be around right now. He’s… done something very bad. Lucy feels a knot of guilt clench in her stomach. Lucy: He killed someone. The voice sounds sad. Unknown: Yeah. He did. Lucy: Were they your friend? The voice lets out the very first syllable of a laugh followed by a sniff. Unknown: Yeah. Yeah, I think so. We worked together. He was a part of my team. Of the group I told you about. The Bread and Butterflies. His name was Matthew. He wanted to look after you too. Lucy’s guilt tightens. Her stomach aches. Lucy: I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Unknown: Hey hey hey, it’s not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry about, OK? You didn’t do anything. It was his choice to come here the way he did. Matthew used to know your father pretty well. He thought they could… talk things out. Lucy fiddles with the clasps at the end of her duvet cover, snapping them open and snapping them closed again. Lucy: What’s your name? Unknown: Harmony. Lucy: That’s a nice name. Unknown: Thank you. I gave it to myself. Lucy looks at the handle on the window. It has a keyhole but the lock doesn’t work. There is another loud bang from downstairs. Unknown: Lucy, I’m so sorry, but we don’t have very long. Can you open the window for me? Please? Lucy chews at her lower lip. Lucy: I need to ask Daddy. Unknown: Lucy, your father has been lying to you. I’m sorry. I know it hurts to hear that. Your father… was very worried about not getting to see you as much. So he did something very silly and very selfish, and he hid you away where none of the people who loved you or cared about you could find you. Where your mother couldn’t find you. Lucy’s eyes widen. Lucy: You know Mummy? Unknown: Sort of. I’ve spoken to her about you. She misses you very, very much Lucy. Would you like to go see her? Lucy trembles. Lucy: Yes please. Unknown: I can take you to her. But I need you to trust me and open the window right now, OK? There are footsteps coming up the stairs. Lucy’s arm reaches out from the bundle of bedsheets. She fumbles with the handle. It turns. The window swings open. The mist licks at the space where the window pane had been but does not come in. Daddy: Lucy? Daddy has reached the doorway of Lucy’s room. He stares at the opening, at Lucy, at the pale shadow outside. His face twists. Daddy: GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HER! GET AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER! Daddy is running towards her, but not fast enough. It’s as if he’s moving in slow motion. A hand slips under the bed sheets and takes hold of Lucy’s. It is as white as bone. As white as greasepaint. It gives her a squeeze like an iron vice, and pulls her out. Out of the sheets, out of the window, out of the house. There is a scream, long and horrible and full of anguish. It fades into the mist. [ End Log ] More From This Author More From This Author Uncannyon's Works SCPs SCP-8080 • SCP-6020 • SCP-4020 • SCP-7014 • SCP-5010 • Tales/GoI Formats Other Acrophobia Anthology 2024 Submechanophobia ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8607" by Uncannyon, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8607. 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: Lucy_Self_Portrait.png Name: "Lucy Self Portrait" Author: Uncannyon License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Additional Notes: I made this. Filename: Lucy_House.png Name: "Lucy House" Author: Uncannyon License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Additional Notes: I made this. Filename: Lucy_Breakfast.png Name: "Lucy Breakfast" Author: Uncannyon License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Additional Notes: I made this. Filename: Lucy_Television.png Name: "Lucy Television" Author: Uncannyon License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Additional Notes: I made this. Filename: Lucy_Bedroom.png Name: "Lucy Bedroom" Author: Uncannyon License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Additional Notes: I made this. Filename: Lucy_Snowglobe.png Name: "Lucy Snowglobe" Author: Uncannyon License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Additional Notes: I made this. Filename: Lucy_Hand.png Name: "Lucy Hand" Author: Uncannyon License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Additional Notes: I made this. |
SCP-8619 | esoteric-class | Below the Skin. 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 A surgically removed appendix 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-8619 Special Containment Procedures: Due to its ubiquity within the human population, SCP-8619 has been adopted into the Normalcy Doctrine. The fabricated medical condition "Appendicitis" has been introduced into the popular and intellectual conscious through a high density misinformation campaign to allow for the below-veil elimination of active SCP-8619 instances during "Appendectomy" surgeries. All medical correspondence is to be monitored for potential active instances, utilizing Cover Story-3821-SMIW (“Inquiry by Public Health Officials") in tandem with discreet global MTF Phi-81 ("Non-Specific Colitis") deployments to dispose of hazardous biological material. Excised SCP-8619 Instance Description: SCP-8619 is the official designation for the vermiform appendix.1 Though all instances are considered anomalous, most will display no anomalous effects during their host's lifetime. The onset of anomalous activity within SCP-8619 instances, or "Appendicitis",2 denotes a sudden inflammation of the instance within the subject, and is most commonly indicated by a dull pain in the center of the subject's abdomen. As activity intensifies, additional effects may include further pain, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea and constipation, which will each increase in severity over a 24-72 hour period without medical intervention.3 At any time, an inflamed SCP-8619 instance within a subject may initiate the following process. First, the subject will experience an unnaturally large release of endorphins into the body, leading to sudden pain relief, and the impression that the ailment has passed. This event indicates that the SCP-8619 instance has hijacked the subject's hormone system, and will subsequently regulate the subject's relevant hormonal levels to encourage high food consumption, lowered digestion, drowsiness, and bliss. Subjects will remain in this consumption-resting cycle until all accessible nourishment has been consumed, which in most cases, amounts to all food stored within their household. Once nourishment can no longer be located, the subject will experience a sudden onset of extreme lethargy and exhaustion, along with depressive mood cycles due to their overexerted hormonal glands. In this sedentary condition, adipose tissue growth is spurned by the SCP-8619 instance, causing growths of fat and muscle to seal all the subject's external orifices. Due to this high-metabolic event, the subject will cultivate a layer of dead tissue, oils, and hair that will encapsulate them, then solidify as layers of the substances build upon one another. These combined symptoms will cause most subjects to perish due to asphyxiation, their airways procedurally clogging as both clotting and shell development proceed.4 After approximately 2 weeks of sedentary growth, the SCP-8619 instance will begin to ooze digestive enzymes into the primed subject, pre-digesting first the contents of the chest cavity, progressing outward through the extremities, then stopping, unable to digest the shell. Once the process is complete, only the shell, protein soup, and SCP-8619 instance will remain. In the following months, the SCP-8619 instance will absorb its prepared nutrient solution as it develops a mass of tissue, filling the interior shell. Before early structures can form, however, instances will exhaust the totality of their nutrient solution supply. As a reserve fuel source, the instance will begin to re-digest the newly expressed tissues within its shell repeatedly, perpetuating a cycle of growth and digestion that leads to an accumulation of off-gas that will remain trapped within the shell. Eventually, extreme gas buildup will cause the shell to burst, scattering its mid-development internal elements around the surrounding area, and rendering the instance neutralized. No further stages have been observed at present.5 Test Record: SCP-8619 Incubation Proposal: An excised SCP-8619 instance at or near maximum inflammation is to be suspended in the center of a tank (1 x 1 x 1 meters) filled with nutrient solution that closely mimics that which would be produced by a wild instance pre-digesting a human being. As the instance consumes solution, additional solution is to be cycled through the tank with an external pump. Research staff are to observe the instance as it grows. Day 1 - Test initiated; no immediate activity. Day 2 - Digestive enzyme detected in solution; Instance confirmed viable. Day 14 - First signs of tissue growth expressed uniformly from central node. Solution cycling initiated. Day 23 - Observation personnel note a specific interest in the dorsal region of the instance, which while uniform texturally, appears to be bulging. Further growth has been deemed necessary to confirm organ formation. Additionally, unprecedented overall tissue growth has necessitated relocation to a backup tank (5 x 5 x 5 meters). Instance continues to grow without issue. Day 38 - All evidence of the instance's dorsal bulge growth has subsided, likely eliminating the possibility of advanced structure formation in that region at present. A new possible formation has been noted, marked by a radial bunching in the instance's midsection without a clear external stimulus. The instance continues to grow at an accelerating rate, rapidly exhausting initial nutrient solution stock. Additional reservoir of nutrient solution requested; Cleared. Day 48 - Equatorial bunching remains around instance, though tank crowding renders observations imprecise. Relocation to a larger tank has been deemed necessary to not impede the instance as it grows, and allow more precision in the location of structural elements for potential organs. No tank has been located on site or within accessible radius fitting requirements. Test projected to conclude without meaningful results. Requesting permission to exert extreme measures to advance test; Cleared. Day 51 - Backup tank breached by instance growth. Extreme protocols initiated; Testing sublevel evacuated then flooded with nutrient reservoir. Though previously observed bunching has not resulted in obvious organ function, unrestrained growth within widened environment appears to be split across the divided hemispheres, most demonstrably with the two primary tank breach points being located in the upper and lower hemisphere respectively, and further growth expanding from these nodes. Observational staff hypothesize these two growth centers will serve to host the primary functional organs for the fully developed instance. However, no signifiers of advanced structures have yet formed. Day 52 - Though observational capabilities are limited at this time, the extreme growth acceleration of the instance has been hypothesized to be analogous to early fetal growth patterns, and consequently, the emergence of advanced structures should be imminent. Approximately 60% of all provided nutrient solution has been consumed. Day 53 - During early morning hours, the instance exhibited a sudden burst of growth, rapidly consuming the remaining nutrient solution until it encompassed the totality of the sublevel. Following totality, nearly all observational faculties were lost, and subsequently breach door sensors soon began to warn of dangerous pressure levels within the sublevel. As caution against a breach, evacuation procedure was initiated, and the site entered a state of alarm. 5 minutes after the onset of alarm status, the sublevel breached, releasing a flood of still rapidly growing tissue throughout the site. Due to inexperience with evacuation protocol conditions, a number of personnel were caught by the instance, subsumed, and rapidly digested by subsurface enzymes.6 After 20 minutes, tissue growths were spotted emanating from numerous major Site exits. Further growth has been minimal. Initial post-evacuation observations note homogeneity in tissue matter at all external sample points, with no evidence of emergent advanced structures. Additional reservoir of nutrient solution requested; Denied. Continued testing terminated per Oversight Committee order. In anticipation of the instance initiating the self-digestive cycles seen in human-sized instances, a secure perimeter has been established around what used to be Site-619. The perimeter is to be manned by MTF Phi-81, who will monitor the instance's degradation and eventually clear all biohazardous materials. Day 56 - Phi-81 reports delays in instance removal due to immense heat in the entity's immediate vicinity. After employing an infrared device, a vibrant hotspot was found emanating from instance interior. Other attempted scans to identify the nature of the hotspot were inconclusive. Operatives expect to continue removal once heat subsides. Day 104 - Phi-81 reports decline in intensity of infrared signal. Surface heat remains too high for efficient disposal. Day 147 Infrared signal greatly diminished. Surface heat minimal; Disposal resumed. Day 198 - During a routine patrol of the rotting instance, a group of MTF Phi-81 agents identified a lesion in the instance's surface which had burst, revealing an interior passageway. After gaining clearance to enter from command, the group spent the latter half of the day charting the interior of the instance, noted as being comprised of thick walls of dry sinew with sparse empty pockets of foul gas surrounded by thin, waxy membranous flesh. This pattern remained consistent throughout the majority of the instance, the group was able to identify one unusually large pocket at the center of its area where an entity now classified as SCP-8619-Alpha was suspended. Day 302 - All remaining hazardous biological material cleared. SCP-8619-Alpha denotes an entity most closely comparable in form to a developing moth imago, though hundreds of times larger, and composed entirely of flesh genetically related to that of Homo Sapiens. SCP-8619-Alpha was already deceased upon discovery, being found in an emaciated and underdeveloped state that was rapidly degrading in a similar manner to the surrounding incubation instance. With this being true, in the initial report from MTF Phi-81 following the expedition, SCP-8619-Alpha was described as "absolutely beautiful". Conclusion: Though the attempt at incubating a viable SCP-8619 instance failed, SCP-8619-Alpha serves as undeniable proof of an Imago stage of human development. Addendum: Following the prior event, a request was pushed from research staff to rewrite containment protocol of SCP-8619 with respect to new findings. This request has been Denied, as under current circumstances, it is immeasurably unlikely that any human being will reach their full evolutionary potential in the wild. Footnotes 1. For further details on the above-veil functions of the organ, see attached reading materials. 2. Following a comprehensive study surveying incidences of "Appendicitis" within the population, approximately 5-9% of all instances have been hypothesized to be prone to activity. 3. The most common being "Appendectomies", or surgical removal of the instance from the subject. 4. Though in some rare cases, improperly sealed orifices have allowed for sustained life. 5. Update: See attached Test Record. 6. Additional nutrients provided to the instance in this fashion have been deemed insignificant regarding continued growth during event. |
SCP-8623 | esoteric-class | Item #: 8623 Special Containment Procedures: Before further consultation of this file, personnel must be aware of the following. The sun will never set. This understanding serves as a baseline for both the containment and continued propagation of containment prophecy pertaining to SCP-8623. Furthermore, It is imperative that this tenet goes unquestioned in the mind and actions of operating containment staff. Understand that in a position of doubt or reason, acting personnel are expected to immediately consult and defer to SCP-8623 scholars for interpretative consultation, which may result in termination, relocation, or reorganization in extreme cases. With this gravity and consequence in mind, then, internalize the tenet and continue reading sequentially through Containment Axiomata I-III. Be aware that further reading of the grace texts is to your prevailing whim, or the whim of SCP-8623 scholars thus deferred.1 Containment Axiom I: Address the following underlying truth. The containment of SCP objects serves to preserve normalcy. Relish in the fact that you know this to be true, and continue emboldened by your righteousness. Containment Axiom II: Utilizing the central tenet beside the underlying truth, SCP-8623 scholars have extrapolated the following principle. SCP-8623 will never come to be. Understanding that SCP-8623 will never come to be makes evident that it has already been, otherwise we would not be aware of it. As such, SCP-8623's presence must be accepted as a part of baseline normalcy, as it already has been and never shall be again. Know that this is not your reality to confirm,2 instead cite the following image. Containment Axiom II. Agree that upon consultation, the following are evident. The sun will never set. SCP-8623 will never come to be. Axiom II embodies the two prior beliefs. Axiom II exists, and can be found in Site-357's reliquary. Axiom II is evidence of SCP-8623's containment. The being of Axiom II thusly consists of and reinforces baseline normalcy. State these resolutions immediately.3 Make concrete your highest of aims. To serve Axiom II is to serve normalcy. To find fruit in the whim of Axiom II is to prove normalcy. Your life is to be given in service of Axiom II. Your life lived under normalcy is gone. You have thusly been assigned to the Site-357 reliquary for observational, sub-scholarly, and admirable duties. Find solace in this, then continue. Containment Axiom III: Find that all hitherto stated has been wholly true, and relent. Repeat that which you know. Repeat once more, The sun shall never set. Understand now, It must be so. Rejoice. That Which Does Not Exist Cannot Harm You Extraneous Containment Axiom IV: It is to be restated that further indulgence in the scripture is to the will of the reader.4 Additionally, the presence of further material is not required or desired by SCP-8623 scholars. Nevertheless, it has been compelled to be and thrust into being. The following allowance has been given to those unwilling to accept the veracity of the triumvirate Axiomata: Description: SCP-8623 is self-evident. The following allowance has been given to those unwilling to face the truth of the-world-as-it-is-and-must-be: Incident 1: It is the opinion of SCP-8623-A scholars that the below hath occurred. The Sermon of Great Swans: On the dawn of the fateful day, the central Axiom was thus discovered rent into neigh uncountable pieces. The dutiful guards and scholars bowed upon her and wept. The world collapsed, and none remained. Still however, persistence claimed its ever-place in the nothing, and time which nigh stopped recalled that which occurred once before, and stepped forth into a great relapse into the depths of never-bending. It was not ceasing, there, the place that always-is and must-be, further and closer there to all central-things that dictate the-world-as-it-is-and-must-be. So still the heart beat on. Oh placid island. Oh river of steam. I ask, before we continue, that we pray to this moment together. Oh placid island Oh river of steam Oh glories mounted fore our time; Whence forth erupted Our legitimacy Our degeneracy Our divine; Now bless our permanence Once more nevermore Once more evermore Once more true. Amen. It was those days of waiting when we broadcast our failure to the greater council. Vivid memories of paper in chains and jewels falling from the sky upon all. Terrorsome skies, the boon of the infidels. Insulting our name as they feasted upon corpse-some fragments of glory; the shreds of the once central Axiom, lost to time. But he. Oh he, that stepped into the near-center-place was mighty and brought to light the truth of the prophecy we always knew to be real. It was so, the-world-as-it-was-and-ne're-will. Behold what he saw All land before lands All bountiful streams All sky over man; May all now be real And all real be ours; Amen. So thus appeared a man, and before him swam a goose. And as must, he spake to her, Great goose, how may'st we fight against the sunset? And fore replied, Poor lad, Swan I am named. What delusion hast caught you? And falling into the water, words made real, Great Swan, I beg of you! How may'st we fight against the sunset? And dancing in the water, graciously, Poor lad, Charles you are named. Dost thou not care for etiquette? And named, Charles sang, Great Swan, to whom I owe my name, how may'st we fight against the sunset? Thrice named, twice verily so, she was beckoned and birthed the words: The sun will never set. With those words he parted, Resplendent Axiom II. And he was naught And he was all oh witness to our Axiom; Where true it stood that world before worlds held birthright in eternity; Amen. Behold him now: Revised Containment Axiom III: Containment Axiom III. Agree that upon consultation, the following are evident. The sun will never set. The sun may never set. The sun can never set. The sun could never set. The sun would never set. The sun should never set. State these resolutions immediately, henceforth, and evermore. To all that will listen. To all that can hear. Repeat with me, We will not let the sun set. Amen. Footnotes 1. Assigned, compelled, or tacit. Extraneous actors may not be addressed. 2. It is not the realm of the uninformed to make such judgements. 3. Failure to do so will result in termination or tacit surrender of free time to scholarly consultation on the importance of reality affirming practices in the workplace. Additional efficacy surveys will be necessary. Further trepidation makes clear that life will not be kind to you, and that walls that sorely held your soul are due to collapse. 4. Or SCP-8623 scholars thus deferred, though no scholar in their right mind would recommend it. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8623" by IndustryStandard, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8623. 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: sun Name: Sun Through Tree I MET DP234289.jpg Author: Arthur Dove License: CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication (CC0 1.0 Universal) Source Link: https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/488537 Filename: sunredux Name: Sun Through Tree II Author: Arthur Dove License: Public Domain Source Link: https://www.christies.com/lot/lot--6316188/ Filename: suntwiceredux Name: TQ3194 : Church Hill, Winchmore Hill, London N21 Author: Christine Matthews License: Attribution-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic (CC BY-SA 2.0) Source Link: https://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/846324 Filename: goosenamedswan Name: ST2683 : Percoed Reen Author: Mike Kohnstamm License: Attribution-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic (CC BY-SA 2.0) Source Link: https://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/1298794 |
SCP-8630 | safe | ⏲ 3 minute read SCP-8630, being worn. Item Number: SCP-8630 Object Classification: Safe Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8630 is stored in a standard Anomalous Item Containment Unit at Site-02. Testing of the object requires approval from Site-02 administrative personnel and at least one Overseer sponsor. Overseers are not to be present during testing. SCP-8630's origins are to be obscured through the continued propagation of Operation 8630/1 ("Dazzling Rubies"). For more information, consult corresponding documentation. Description: SCP-8630 refers to a white, fingerless leather glove manufactured in 1962. In spite of its relatively early acquisition, it shows significant signs of wear for its age. The object displays abnormal Hume fluctuations consistent with most anomalous phenomena, though no other detectable aberrations. SCP-8630's anomalous properties activate while the glove is worn during a game of darts. When an individual attempts to throw a dart at a target using SCP-8630, the dart will always land directly on its target, regardless of the dart's initial momentum or the wielder's capabilities. This effect is often achieved through the occurrence of increasingly improbable events, corresponding inversely to the likelihood of the dart's initial conditions naturally allowing it to reach the target. The definition of a "dart game" for the purposes of activating SCP-8630 appears to be vague. Thus far, the following criteria have been contingent for the anomaly to occur: The object thrown with SCP-8630 must be a projectile used in a form of sport; The target must be an object within the wielder's line of sight; The wielder must consider the current circumstances to constitute a "dart game" in some regard. As long as these three conditions are fulfilled, the thrown object will always land on the designated target within approximately five seconds. See the SCP-8630 Testing Log for examples. After the projectile collides with its intended target, no further anomalous properties are discernible. + Restricted to 8630/Dazzling Rubies Clearance – Access Granted Discovery: SCP-8630 was discovered on the sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository on November 22nd, 1963, alongside a Mannlicher-Carcano rifle, shortly after the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. Note that despite three gunshots being heard by witnesses, only one bullet casing was found in the sniper's nest. See Operation 8630/1 briefings for further details. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8630" by Yossipossi, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8630. 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: 8630.jpg Name: White leather fingerless cycling glove Author: Lewis Ronald License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-8642 | esoteric-class | by TopHatBionicle You shuffle down a hallway that you didn’t know existed, looking for a department you’ve never heard of before. That’s not an unusual occurrence for auditors at the biggest site in the SCP Foundation; you’ve run all over the place tracking down the various expenses of this or that department, all in the name of keeping spending down and productivity up. Today was unusual, though, because you’re the third auditor to try and find this particular department. Your two predecessors are convinced that the department doesn’t exist, but the boss made it clear that failure wouldn’t be tolerated a third time. So here you are, clipboard in hand, running around like a chicken with no head, making wrong turn after wrong turn, hitting deadend after deadend… And then you find it. Two inconspicuous wooden doors at the very end of the most out-of-the-way hallway in the entire Foundation, one of which bears a small nameplate reading: The Department of Everyday Anomalies and Disinformation of Explained, Neutralized, and Decommissioned SCPs … which tells you absolutely nothing about what this department actually does. You’re pretty sure the Foundation doesn’t even decommission SCPs anymore. Below the nameplate is a sticky note with “Welcome to the Deadend!” scribbled on it. You take a deep breath, hoping that this is not, in fact, a deadend, and… You knock on the door. 0 You don’t knock on the door. Click here to jump to any page! Collapse Page List (0) Home Page (1) Don't Knock (2) Don't Knock 2 (3) Don't Knock 3 (4) Failure Ending (5) Knock (6) Ask Questions 1 (7) Ask Questions 2 (8) No Other Questions (9) Sit and Wait (10) Accept Coffee - Romance Ending (11) Decline Coffee - Long Wait (12) Investigate the papers (13) Ask Trio (14) Boring Ending (15) Ask about Reality Anchors (17) Investigate Double Doors (18) Dead Ending (19) Insist (20) Escape Double Doors (21) Comp1 (22) Comp2 (23) Loop1 (24) Loop2 (25) Loop3 (26) Meta Ending (27) Q1 (28) Q1.5 (29) Q2 (30) Q3 (31) Q4 (32) True Ending (33) Article (34) Investigate (35) Investigate Computer (36) Stay Standing Here (37) Not a Gamer (38) Epic Gamer Ending ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8642" by TopHatBionicle, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8642. 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: DEADEND (2) Author: TopHatBionicle License: Source Link: Additional Notes: Made using Lucidchart. Filename: DEADENDlogo Name: 104_sin_titulo_20240119011531 Author: Olympic Error License: Source Link: Additional Notes: Made for this SCP. Thank you, Olympic! |
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padding: 2vw; } Item#: SCP-8650 Level6 Containment Class: safe Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: amida Risk Class: critical link to memo Special Containment Procedures: All copies of SCP-8650 are to be held within High-Yield Data Storage Facility 3 at Site-43. Due to the high amounts of classified information within, Foundation personnel with clearance level 6500-5 or higher who are exposed to SCP-8650 are to be subject to immediate administration of Class-A amnestics. MTF Lambda-11 is to observe all personnel involved in the discovery of SCP-8650 and their respective Sites for connections to Splinter Group 6500-1. Description: SCP-8650 refers to a two-part film, with a total combined runtime of 7:18:03, produced by Vikander-Kneed Technical Media. Branding for the film, titled SCP: Inevitable, indicates that it is part of the "SCP Cinematic Universe" or "SCPCU"; the Foundation has no record of this brand's existence. Broadly speaking, SCP-8650 recounts the events surrounding the neutralization of SCP-6500 by a combination of Foundation personnel operating on an international, and interdimensional, scale. Past VKTM productions have recruited actual Foundation personnel, or used simulacrum of said personnel, for use in their anomalies. However, several prominent actors and voice performers were cast in the film, and are listed in the end credits. With the exception of Ben Schwartz and Benedict Cumberbatch, who were both hired to read several lines of dialog for their respective roles without any context, and Steven Seagal, who claimed to remember being cast for the film in late 20211 no actors who were credited in SCP-8650 recall being involved with its production. Addendum 1: Discovery SCP-8650 was discovered after several members of Foundation personnel — Dr. Udo Okorie, Chief Delfina Ibanez, Dr. Katherine Sinclair, Dr. Montgomery Reynolds, Dr. Daniel Asheworth, Dr. Placeholder McDoctorate, and Dr. William Wallace Wettle — were abducted from their respective Sites for a seven-hour duration on the night of April 26th, 2024. All Foundation personnel were found back in their respective living quarters at approximately 3:20 PM EST on April 27th, 2024, all claiming to have no memory of what happened while they were abducted. Dr. Sinclair, Dr. Okorie, and Dr. Asheworth all independently surrendered DVD copies of SCP-8650 that they had been given by a VKTM representative; attempted acroamatic abatement of the items has resulted in equipment failure, and digital copies were found uploaded to the Foundation's servers, in a file marked 'DOOMSDAY :)'. Attached is an abridged log of recordings taken from monitoring equipment on Chief Ibanez and Dr. Asheworth's person. Begin Log Chief Ibanez is walking through Site-43's corridors alongside Dr. Okorie. They are both transporting Dr. Wettle to Site-43's infirmary on a gurney, with Okorie on the front. Chief Ibanez: I think that was a little too far this time. Dr. Okorie: I'm sure that Lillian didn't intend for him to eat that ghost pepper chip. Hey, Wettle, are you alive? Wettle groans loudly, clutching his head with his left hand, his stomach with his right. Dr. Okorie: He's responsive. Assuming the capsaicin didn't burn a hole through his stomach… Okorie stops in front of the door which leads to Site-43's Health & Pathology Department. She presses her badge against the reader; it is unresponsive. Dr. Okorie: Dammit. Fina, can I borrow yours? My aura might have fried my badge again. Chief Ibanez: Sure. Catch. Ibanez throws her badge to Okorie, who catches it; as she presses it against the scanner, Wettle abruptly sits upright. Dr. Wettle: Oh. For the love of god, do not open that door! Dr. Okorie: …Why not? Dr. Wettle: It's— it's some kind of ominous feeling. Something bad is behind there. Please, I know I… just listen to me. Okorie, d— Dr. Okorie: Wettle, you're delirious from the spice. We'll get you to the infirmary, hold on. The door opens. Dr. Okorie steps through, and finds herself in a circular room. Wettle and Ibanez follow, and Wettle groans audibly. Dr. Wettle: Yup! Of course it is. Dr. Okorie: …This… isn't H&P. A door opposite Ibanez's camera opens. Dr. Montgomery Reynolds and Dr. Katherine Sinclair enter, wearing formal clothing. Sinclair is laughing and holding a cocktail glass. Dr. Sinclair: What, are you in high school all of the sudden? Taking me into a closet, honestly… Dr. Reynolds: Just trying to make up for lost time. Reynolds embraces Sinclair, and then looks up to see Ibanez, Okorie, and Wettle. Dr. Reynolds: …Katherine, I don't think we're in Wisconsin anymore. Dr. Sinclair: Hmm? Dr. Sinclair looks at the assembled party, abruptly dropping her glass. Rather than shattering on impact, it falls through the floor. Dr. Okorie: Katherine. What are you— Dr. Sinclair: What are you— one second I'm at a function at Site-87 — containment procedure, long story — and the next I'm at 43? Dr. Wettle: Okay, more people. That's good, I think? Less of a chance they focus on you. I just hope this doesn't turn into Season Two… A third door opens. Dr. Placeholder McDoctorate steps through, holding a vanilla ice cream, and conversing with Dr. Daniel Asheworth. Dr. McDoctorate: …And then I said, 'no, dramatic irony is when you come home to a murder scene… and all your shirts are wrinkled!' Dr. Asheworth: …I'm afraid I don't understand. Dr. McDoctorate: Well, you see, it— Dr. Sinclair clears her throat. McDoctorate turns to face her. Dr. McDoctorate: Kat? Dr. Sinclair: Place? You're supposed to be in Esterberg until the start of May, I thought. Dr. Asheworth: We… were in Esterberg, until… oh, Sukinsynu. Spatial anomaly? Dr. Reynolds: Seems that way. But why… The floor abruptly falls away, and all personnel present are in freefall for approximately ten seconds, before their momentum is arrested and they land in front of an IMAX movie screen. All personnel are seated in leather recliner seats, with paper cups on their right side and buckets of popcorn on their left. Dr. Sinclair: …Monty, to your knowledge, has there been any odd activity at the movie theater in Sloth's Pit? Dr. Reynolds: Not since the Pit Sloth, but you can never be too prepared. I told Tristan that the department of cinematic studies was a good idea, but did he listen? Dr. Wettle: Don't worry, this isn't you. It's something worse. Dr. Asheworth: Oh, don't tell me— Rising up from a stage immediately in front of the screen, Marian 'Mari' MacPhaerson, Vice President of Public Relations at Vikander-Kneed Technical Media. She is wearing a grey pantsuit, with a dirty bandage covering her eyes. Both the bandage, and the shoulders of her pantsuit, are covered in bloodstains. All Foundation Personnel: Oh, son of a bitch! MacPhaerson: Welcome, welcome! Sorry to draw you away from any pertinent medical emergencies, luxury galas, or ice cream dates. Dr. McDoctorate: It wasn't— the hell do you want, you extradimensional executive? MacPhaerson: Ooh, alliterative, I like that. Can we use that in the sequel? Dr. Sinclair: Sequel? MacPhaerson: Ah, you aren't aware, then. I don't blame you, wouldn't do numbers in your world. Long story short? We here at Vikander-Kneed have decided to break into the long-standing reality that is the film business, and create our very-own cross-media franchise— the SCP Cinematic Universe! SCPCU for short. Dr. Wettle: Okay, so, I get why you dragged me into it. Expect it to happen every day before lunch at this point. But why everyone else? MacPhaerson: Well, we need a test audience for our newest film, and who better than the people the film is based on? Silence on the recording, and sounds of confusion. After about ten seconds, Sinclair swears loudly. Dr. Sinclair: You made a film based on 6500?! MacPhaerson: Well, no, that would be crude and insensitive to those who died during the Impasse. We made a film based on your attempts to stop it! It's got an extremely star-studded cast. Chief Ibanez: Hold on, we didn't sign any kind of— MacPhaerson: Someone needs to read their Goldbaker-Reinz plans more carefully. You sign away your likeness right on an annual basis, Delfina.2 Dr. McDoctorate: Question: did you learn nothing from Justice League? Starting a film franchise with a massive team-up movie— MacPhaerson: You think this is the first film? This is the culmination of over twelve years of work on our part! You should see what Bonnie Wright did as ██████ █████ in Black Autumn IV. Brings a tear to my eye. Dr. Reynolds: As who? MacPhaerson: Oh, long story. You got bottomless buckets of popcorn on one side, bottomless drinks on your right, and there are restrooms at the back of the auditorium. Buckle up, buttercups. This is going to be a great show. Any questions before we start the screening? Dr. Asheworth: …Please tell me that Whedon didn't direct this. MacPhaerson: What do we look like, Vought? We have some integrity, Daniel. We got James Gunn to fire off on this project— pun fully intended. Dr. Okorie: How long is this? MacPhaerson: Just over seven hours. It's a two-part film! Dr. Wettle: I'm not doing this. As far as I'm concerned, Mari, you and everyone involved in this can go and— Dr. McDoctorate: Bill. C'mon. We need to see what this says about… you know. That whole thing in the Mediterranean? Dr. Wettle: …Fine. You hear from Cat lately? Dr. McDoctorate: She's got a lead on something in the Darien Gap along with Wexley. Talk about it later. MacPhaerson: Excellent! Well, let's start the screening. We'll have a Q&A session a bit later. Dr. Reynolds: You do realize we're going to give this the full Gizmonic treatment, right? Dr. Asheworth: I'm sorry, Gizmonic? MacPhaerson: I wouldn't have it any other way. We even wrote a theme song for it just in case you went that route, but Fionn3 told us not to play it. That's for the comments section. Dr. Asheworth: Comments section? MacPhaerson sinks back into the stage. She turns towards Chief Ibanez's recording equipment as blood spurts out of the left side of her bandage, as if winking. A three-second countdown appears on the projector, before the film begins with a sweeping camera pan through, and over, the VKTM Logo as sweeping orchestral music plays, before the phrase: VKTM STUDIOS Presents appears on-screen. Dr. Okorie: I didn't expect you to be a Mystery Science Theater fan, Montgomery. Dr. Reynolds: I watched it in college, when it first aired. Dr. Okorie: Joel, or Mike? Dr. Reynolds: Jonah. Dr. Okorie: …You're trying to piss me off on purpose. Dr. Sinclair: Hush. The film opens on a beach, where Foundation cleanup crews are looking over black sludge. A member of Foundation personnel, played by George Clooney, is on screen. A nameplate on their hazmat suit reads "DR. BLANK". Dr. Wettle: They got Clooney to play Harry? Goddamn. RAISA Notice: For the sake of easier reading, the actors will be noted next to the names of the characters they play. Clooney looks at the pile of sludge and picks up a cigarette lying in it. A voice with a heavy Scottish accent speaks from off-screen. Scottish Voice: What do you make of it? Dr. Blank (Clooney): If I had to be honest, Allan? It looks like 2521— Clooney pauses and braces for an apparent impact. Dr. Blank (Clooney): Well, that confirms it. 2521 is neutralized. And looks like 4999 went with it. The camera turns to face Director Allan McInnis, played by David Tennant. Director McInnis (Tennant): That confirm your theory, then? Dr. Blank (Clooney): Not my theory. It's been sparking up chatter since last year. It's happening. The death of… magic. The Final Feast. The Impasse. Director McInnis (Tennant): Anything we can do? Dr. Blank (Clooney): Honestly, at this point? Anomalous activity has been on the decline for the better part of a century. What's happening now? It almost seems… The film smash-cuts to a title card: SCP: INEVITABLE Dr. Asheworth: At least the popcorn's decent. A title card reads SITE-43, over an image of a facility that superficially resembles the Site. It cuts to an interior shot, where several members of Foundation personnel are present; Taraji P. Henson plays Dr. Okorie, Zoe Saldana is Chief Ibanez, Steven Seagal is an unidentified member of personnel, Christina Hendricks is Dr. Lillian Lillihammer, Amy Adams is Dr. Sinclair, Keith David plays then-Researcher Reynolds, and Ernie Hudson is present as Dr. Obi Okorie. Dr. Sinclair: Okay, this definitely never happened. Dr. Reynolds: We did want to have a summit at 43 over it, but never got a chance to. Dr. McDoctorate: Probably for the sake of character economy. Dr. Wettle: Who the hell is Seagal meant to be? Man wouldn't allow his hair to be dyed grey in a million years… O. Okorie (Hudson): To say this is unprecedented is an understatement. Dr. Sinclair (Adams): There's precedent, Obi. Wettle's been itching to talk our ear off about it. Dr. Lillihammer (Hendricks): Can't believe the Wet Blanket has a history degree. Dr. Wettle (Seagal): Hey, I'm in replication studies, toots. And those who repeat history— All but Seagal, Groaning: Are doomed to learn it. Dr. Wettle: Are you fucking kidding?! I'm played by a washed-up action star turned obese sexual harasser?! MacPhaerson climbs into the chair next to Dr. Wettle and steals a handful of his popcorn. MacPhaerson: If it's any consolation, you were originally played by Kevin Spacey. Dr. Wettle: In what possible universe does that make me feel better?! MacPhaerson: Why do you keep asking those kinds of questions? Is it a control thing? Dr. Wettle (Seagal): …which will inevitably result in the Final Occult War. Reynolds (David): Heavy stuff. Katherine, your thoughts? Dr. Sinclair (Adams): There's protocols for this, I think. Chief Ibanez (Saldana): You're talking about the Sixth Sun crap? That's a myth. Dr. Sinclair (Adams): It's no myth. I helped review the procedures at the start of the decade. Dr. Okorie (Henson): I wrote some of the protocols for it back in 2003. Dr. Wettle: You dubbed him. I can tell he's drunk! MacPhaerson: Okay, yes, but he agreed to be dubbed. Dr. Reynolds: …Keith didn't want to wear dreads? MacPhaerson: He felt it was disrespectful. Dr. Reynolds: Put hours worth of effort into my hair every week. You couldn't have put a wig on him? Dr. Okorie: Excuse me, Mari, is it? What the hell is the accent that woman is trying to do? MacPhaerson: We tried to give her vocal coaching, we really did. You don't like it? Dr. Okorie: She sounds like she's trying to do an imitation of Alexia McIntosh's singing voice, for a non-musical role. It's not great! Dr. Daniel Asheworth, played by Henry Cavill, enters the room. Dr. Asheworth (Cavill): Good afternoon. Sorry I'm late. Had to oversee the commencement of a Sixth Sun operation. O. Okorie (Hudson): Dan! Good to see you. Have a seat. Dr. Sinclair (Adams): Pleasant flight, Dr. Asheworth? Dr. Asheworth (Cavill): Please. I took a Way. Only… method to travel by. Dr. Asheworth: I am not sure how I feel about Superman playing me. MacPhaerson: What about Geralt of Rivia? Dr. Asheworth: …Better, I'll admit. As long as he doesn't turn into Liam Hemsworth 90% of the way through the film. Dr. Okorie: I'm confused, who is this we're following? MacPhaerson: Oh, that's the man who stole the Moeuler Foci. Dr. Sinclair: Really. Heard he wasn't nearly this handsome. Dr. Asheworth: I am severely lost at this point. Not five minutes ago, Sinclair and Reynolds were making landfall back at Site-43. Dr. Wettle: Was Oswalt meant to be Deering? Odd choice, given his body type. Dr. Asheworth: The actress you've chosen to play Reynders has a downright uncanny resemblance, though. Not sure about her attempt at an accent, though. MacPhaerson: They, actually. But thank you for noticing! They're one of our patented Vikander-Kneed Pataparadoxical DoppelgangersTM. D-11424 (Diego Luna): Who… are you? 'Rot' (Guillermo del Toro): I am Rot. D-11424 backs away in shock. D-11424 (Luna): That answers surprisingly little. Dr. Sinclair: Have they— are we the first people to see this? MacPhaerson: We showed a Japanese dub to those who were involved in the Cleric's path. They liked it well enough. Dr. Wettle: She said, clearly lying. MacPhaerson: Hmm? Dr. Wettle: Nothing. Dialog's a little cheesy at times. MacPhaerson: It's taken largely verbatim from actual events! Dr. Wettle: …Largely? 'Rot' (del Toro): …with my essence in another's hands, I will not fade so easily. 'Rot' extends the Moelur Foci to D-1142. D-11424 (Luna): …I'm not touchin' that. 'Rot' (del Toro): I am Decay. I am that which breaks, I am that which tears asunder. I am the slow return of everything to nothing. I am Fester. I am Wither. I am Entropy. I am Death, and I am Dying. And you, Anthony, are taking the heart. Hesitantly, D-11424 takes the heart. The scene cuts to Japan, where a storyline with Kaito Eguichi (played by Tadanobu Asano) and Fumiko Tanaka (Kimiko Glen) is already in progress. It is late at night, and Eguchi is seen looking longingly at Tanaka as he stands guard over their camp. Dr. Asheworth: I do not approve of the romance subplot between them. MacPhaerson: Oh? How come? Dr. Asheworth: I had the privilege of interviewing Kaito after the Impasse ended. He barely knows Tanaka, and they're, at best, reluctant acquaintances almost three years later. Plus, the age differential between them… Dr. Sinclair is heard coughing uncomfortably. MacPhaerson: How many women has DiCaprio dated that are half his age? Dr. Sinclair: Talking of ages… Adams is almost a decade my elder, and Keith David is way older than Monty. Couldn't you have found someone closer to our actual— MacPhaerson: Age is just a number, and in Hollywood that number is very malleable. Chief Ibanez: Subtitles need to be bigger. My eyesight's not what it used to be. MacPhaerson: That can be fixed in post. Anyone here need an audio guide device? Dr. Wettle: Mari, as your husband, can I ask a question? MacPhaerson: Nope! But I can tell you that the answer is exactly what you think it is. Dr. Wettle: …I assume it's the post-credits scene? MacPhaerson: Of course! Dr. Wettle: That might not be a good idea to show people here. MacPhaerson: Eh, worst comes to worst, you get amnestics. Dr. Okorie: What are you and one of your wives babbling about over there, Wettle? Dr. Wettle sighs, opens the lid of his cup, and takes a deep drink. Dr. Wettle: You'll see. Wettle attempts to set his cup down. It spills, and several dozen liters of soda land on his pants, far more than what the cup can conceivably hold, before Wettle rights it with a sigh. Dr. Wettle: Fuck! …Bottomless. Heh. Dr. Sinclair: I have to know: how'd you manage to pull this off? MacPhaerson: Pull what off? Dr. Sinclair: That's clearly Benedict Cumberbatch! You have him voicing an SCP! That's a Veil breach! MacPhaerson: So the rest of the cast is fine, but you draw your line at Cumberbatch? Dr. Sinclair: Did you make this using generative AI? Deepfakes? What? MacPhaerson: AI? Do you really think that low of us? Please. That's actually him. All of the actors are the actual actors, just… not all of them are our actual actors, you get it? Besides, do you know how many people will read lines without any context for a big enough paycheck? How do you think we— I mean they got Christopher Lloyd in that awful Foodfight movie? Dr. Sinclair: …As much as I hate to admit it, that does make sense. SCP-1867 (Cumberbatch): But aye, the Coalition counts down to obsolescence. They seek control over the thaumic world, as if they could tame magic! You'd sooner tame a tarrasque than thaumics! Dr. Sinclair: Wait, did you just imply you're responsible for Foodfight? MacPhaerson: Animation isn't my department. But we may have had something to do with the original data for the film vanishing. Dr. Reynolds: …Why? MacPhaerson: Oh, we were trying to do this whole thing with testing if we could get engagement from internet reviewers before they disgraced themselves en masse. Dr. Asheworth: Okay, I just have one question: who is playing Bowe? Dr. Sinclair: That's what I'm dreading, frankly. Dr. Wettle: What the fuck was the name of this Bowe again? Prescott? Charlie? Dr. Reynolds: Martin, I think. Dr. McDoctorate: This bastard shot you both, nearly killed your unborn daughter, and you didn't learn his name? Dr. Reynolds: In fairness, we were actively trying to not die, Place. As Reynolds and King Delbáeth — played by Martin Freeman — are conversing, an actor is seen from the back, holding a component of SCP-6500. The camera pans around to the front, revealing Nicholas Cage, wearing standard Global Occult Coalition fatigues. Martin Bowe (Cage): All right, freaks, you got five seconds to drop whatever you're carrying, or I'm blowing this part of the Codex to fuckin' smithereens! MacPhaerson: That's our first F-Bomb in the SCPCU! I'm so proud. Dr. Reynolds: …How… I… what?! Dr. McDoctorate: Next time I see Sage, she owes me $50. I knew Cage was a parathreat, but she didn't believe me! Dr. Sinclair: You only bet her fifty?! Dr. McDoctorate: I go easy on her. She's got student loans to consider. Dr. Okorie: I just got an overwhelming sense of deja vu. MacPhaerson: Cage isn't anomalous. He just owes us a fuckton of money. We could get him to star in a snuff film if we wanted! But we have ethics, unlike some people here. Chief Ibanez: Wait, I thought that Cage owed a ton of money to the American tax service… MacPhaerson: Well, the three sequels to Raising Arizona we greenlit ended up not making a cent, so we had to keep his contract somewhere. Dr. Sinclair: Dr. Wettle? I am so sorry you have to put up with this on a regular basis. MacPhaerson: If you think that's bad, wait until you see what we're getting him for our four-month anniversary! Chief Ibanez: Isn't that in June? MacPhaerson: Exactly! Dr. Okorie: Can I at least be excused for this next part? MacPhaerson: What, you don't want to relive your trauma of being trapped in a hostile afterlife, separated from your future girlfriend? Dr. Reynolds: …Hold on, Udo. I thought you were seeing Dr. Astrauskas from ETTRA. Chief Ibanez: We both are. Dr. Reynolds: I need to talk to Bailey about the relationship declaration forms at 87 at some point. Chief Ibanez: Updating them? Dr. Sinclair: Hopefully more 'abolishing' them… Dr. Okorie stands and heads to the restroom at the rear of the auditorium as the projector displays the moments when, after the recovery of the Leading Edge, she is stuck in the dimension of Corbenic. Shortly after, the following scene occurs: Ibanez (Saldana) has the Leading Edge placed directly under Dr. McDoctorate's nose (played by American astronomer Clifford Stoll, as he appeared circa 1990) in a threatening gesture, after Dr. Okorie is seemingly sacrificed. Ibanez: (Saldana): It's not a fucking sacrifice. It's a sequel hook. Groaning is heard from all Foundation personnel, except Dr. McDoctorate and Chief Ibanez. Dr. Okorie returns to her seat as this scene occurs. Dr. Okorie: What are we groaning at? Dr. Wettle: VKTM added in the cheesiest line of dialog I've ever heard. Dr. Asheworth: Are you positive that Joss Whedon didn't work on this film? MacPhaerson: That's taken verbatim, actually. Dr. Sinclair: Bullshit! Dr. McDoctorate: She… did say that. As the film continues playing, transitioning to the Foundation Elimination Coalition invading Sloth's Pit, Wisconsin, all eyes turn to Chief Ibanez. Chief Ibanez: …Look. It was a long day, and between me losing Udo, facing off against that… thing and Place going on and on about pataphysics… it seemed the right thing to say! Dr. Sinclair: Hopefully your banter improves by the time you face down Crocker again. It's a vital survival skill in Sloth's Pit. Chief Ibanez: Can we just write that down as heat of the moment and move on? Dr. Wettle: How much longer is this? MacPhaerson: Oh, about twenty more minutes, counting the post-credits scene. Dr. McDoctorate: …You can't let them sit through that. MacPhaerson: What, are you going to quote some metafictional bullhonkey as to why I can't? Dr. McDoctorate 'Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead'. MacPhaerson: Oh sweetie, Threshold's not a secret. You're just ineffective. Dr. McDoctorate: How do you— Dr. Sinclair: What are you on about? Dr. Wettle: You'll see. Wait for the end credits scene. MacPhaerson: Technically it's mid-credits. Those get way more engagement in the current environment. The credits begin to play. In Order Of Appearance: George Clooney as Dr. Harry Blank David Tennant as Director Allan McInnis Taraji P. Henson as Dr. Udo Okorie Zoe Saldana as Chief Delfina Ibanez Steven Seagal as Dr. William Wallace Wettle Christina Hendricks as Dr. Lillian Lillihammer Amy Adams as Dr. Katherine Jean Sinclair Keith David as Dr. Montgomery Reynolds4 Ernie Hudson as Dr. Obi Okorie Tom Holland as Agent Robert J. Tofflemire Patton Oswalt as Phil Deering / SCP-5056 Diego Luna as D-11424/Tony Marquez Jeremy Renner as Dr. Logan Arceo Tadanobu Asano as Kaito Eguchi Kimiko Glen as Fumiko Tanaka Clifford Stoll5 as Dr. Placeholder McDoctorate Charlize Theron as Agent Seren Pryce Henry Cavill as Dr. Daniel Asheworth Michał Żebrowski as Dr. Asheworth (Polish Speaking Voice) Kelly Marie Tran as the voice of Dr. Athenodora Cat Doug Jones as Agent Jacob Wexley Diego Luna as Agent Daniel Navarro Alicia Vikander as Dr. Lara Cruz Phoebe Waller-Bridge as Dr. Lea Zer6 Mason Alexander Park as Dr. Justine Everwood Scarlett Johansson as the motion capture model for SCP-179. Orlando Jones as "Aunt Nancy" Benedict Q. Cumberbatch7 as the voice of SCP-1867. Martin Freeman as King Delbáeth of Hy-Brasil Ben Schwartz as the voice of the "ROUNDERPEDE" Trace Lysette as Faeowynn Wilson Willem DaFoe as the voice of SCP-035 Dr. Wettle is heard groaning. Chief Ibanez turns her camera to face him. He is clutching his forehead. Chief Ibanez: Hey. Seagal might not have been the best choice, but… he could've done a lot worse! Right? Dr. Wettle: Why are you being nice to me? Chief Ibanez: …Okay, I'll be honest. Seagal was the worst possible choice to play you and I'm showing some sympathy. Dr. Wettle: Oh. Thank you? Dr. Sinclair: Here comes the lauded mid-credits scene. Let's see how bad this— what the fuck? The video quality of this portion appears as if it was shot on a hand-held camera, a notable downgrade from the rest of the picture. It shows the interior of the O5 Council's chambers at Site-[REDACTED], and depicts all of the O5s present as themselves. O5-0 is visible in a platform at the center. Dr. Reynolds: What is this? MacPhaerson: Pla— Temporary footage. Dr. Wettle: …That's O5-4… Dr. Okorie: How on Earth do you of all people know what O5-4 looks like? Dr. McDoctorate: It… it is. Trust us on this. Dr. Sinclair: No, that… that figure in the center. It matches depictions of Norris Arklay. One of the possible identities of O5-0. Dr. Okorie: That looks a lot like Nur, honestly… what the Hell is happening? O5-0: The Foundation is the cause. The sole cause. Every time you lock up an anomaly, every time you conduct a test or publish a document — steal the Natural elements and apply your artificial understandings and definitions — you choke magic out of reality. O5-0 sighs and relaxes their restraints. A Foundation that secures and contains is incompatible with the anomalous. Prolonged silence on the recording, other than the film playing. Dr. Sinclair takes in a horrified gasp. Dr. Asheworth: …What kind of sick joke is VKTM playing here? I thought— if this is supposed to make some kind of point about the Truth, or about how the Foundation is evil, we get it. But it… this isn't — this can't — O5-0: Humanity existed long before the Foundation. You tell yourselves that you're preventing countless untold apocalypses and raptures, but you're preventing change. You prevent the entropic effects of the Natural world on the artificial and, in so doing, cause the accelerated entropy of the Natural. Dr. Wettle: It's true. Chief Ibanez: Dr. Wettle, I recognize you're a pessimist, but how can you possibly know that any of this actually happened? Dr. McDoctorate: Okay, you remember a few years back, how our thylacine cloning initiative to contain SCP-12987 and a few other things got leaked, and nobody could figure out how it leaked? Dr. Sinclair: Of course. There's a population of them in the zoo in Duluth now. But what does— Audio briefly cuts out on the camera feeds; The Foundation personnel talk amongst themselves as their faces display a combination of shock and resignation. Dr. Okorie appears to have crushed her cup of soda in apparent anger. Reynolds holds onto Sinclair as she stares at Drs. Wettle and McDoctorate in disbelief. Chief Ibanez scowls, gripping onto her armrest. Tense music plays. O5-13: The votes are 6 for, 6 against. O5-13 frowns in thought, then lets out a long sigh. O5-13: I vote— The screen cuts to black, and the film ends. MacPhaerson applauds. MacPhaerson: Wooo! What a cliffhanger! All other personnel are silent. Dr. Asheworth appears to be nauseous, briefly, before wildly gesticulating. Dr. Asheworth: Cholery nikt z nas o tym nie wiedział?! To idzie na sam szczyt, ponad szczyt! Dr. Sinclair: I… I left the Hand. I left the Hand. Why did I… I could have stopped… Dr. Okorie: We got some of the Crown at Site-43, I… I remember seeing it in the Abatement catalog, and… I guess this makes sense. Dr. Reynolds: None of this makes sense. None of it. MacPhaerson: Oh, it will once you've seen the sequel. We did something ambitious with it! Dr. Wettle: Mari, shut it. MacPhaerson: Don't talk back to your wife, Willie! Dr. Wettle: I'm married to VTKM as a whole. And what you've just— why?! Why show this to any of us?! MacPhaerson: William, come on, really? Winnie's doing great by the way, did you get her letters? Dr. Wettle: Mari— MacPhaerson: I'm terribly sorry, I'd love to continue this conversation, but I have a meeting regarding voice acting rights for our exciting new animated spin-off of the SCP Cinematic Universe, What About…? Feel free to stretch your legs before part two starts! MacPhaerson's seat tilts back, and she vanishes into the floor. Ibanez feels at the carpet of the theater for seams, and finds none. Dr. Asheworth: …What do we do now? Dr. Sinclair: I-I have… I have a daughter… oh God, what if the Foundation… what if they use her as collateral? I can't know this, I need amnestics, I need to get away. Dr. McDoctorate: What are you going to do, get back in the magic coffee shop? Dr. Wettle: Dr. Sinclair, if I may? Place, myself, and at least six other people have known about this since the end of 2021. We're still alive. Dr. Reynolds: Who else? Dr. Wettle: Uh… Dan Navarro. Dr. Doja Cat… Dr. McDoctorate: He means Athenodora Cat. Also— Ibanez, have you been recording this? Chief Ibanez: …Fuck. I have. Asheworth's got monitoring equipment on him, too. What do we— Dr. Okorie: Katherine, come over here for a moment? Dan, Fina, look at me. Dr. Sinclair walks over to Dr. Okorie, who wraps her in a hug. Sinclair returns the hug; the combined thaumic auras of the two Type Blue personnel cause the recording equipment to fail. END LOG Currently, it is believed that several members of Foundation personnel have been radicalized by Splinter Cell 6500-01 ("The Threshold" or "Threshold Guardians"), a group of Foundation dissidents dedicated to independently recovering, studying and utilizing anomalous items that are of Artifact level— i.e. capable of undoing or halting another Impasse. The following members of personnel, and their respective Sites, have been added to monitoring by MTF Lambda-11: Dr. Katherine Sinclair Dr. Montgomery Reynolds Dr. Udo Okorie Chief Delfina Ibanez Director Daniel Asheworth However, due to the relative ineffectiveness of Splinter Cell 6500-01 (see documentation for Splinter Cell 6500-01's failed attempts at recovering Dante's Atlas, the Bell of Entropy, and the Daedalic Manuscripts) it is currently believed that minimal threat is posed by this faction, and the greater threat comes from the possibility that SCP-8650 is distributed among the larger population of Foundation personnel, and the greater anomalous community. Footnotes 1. Seagal's testimony was found to be unreliable; under the influence of a truth serum, he confessed that he had had no interaction with the Foundation or any groups of interest since the early 1990s, during the 'Unholywood' incident. 2. An inspection of Goldbaker-Reinz contracts after the containment of SCP-8650 has shown no references to VKTM or other companies. 3. Fionn Sharke Esq. VP of Vikander-Kneed's LEGAL Department. 4. At the time, Reynolds did not possess a Foundation-issued doctorate, making this inaccurate. 5. Appearing as he did circa 1990 6. The five above performers are credited, but do not appear in the cut of the film that was delivered to the Foundation; a 'Not-For-Any-Director's Cut' has been advertised in other VTKM products, but is unavailable to purchase by any Foundation personnel. 7. Erroneously credited; Cumberbatch's middle names are "Timothy Carlton". |
SCP-8654 | apollyon | Item#: SCP-8654 Level0 Containment Class: apollyon Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: amida Risk Class: critical link to memo A digital photograph taken during Incident-8654. Photographer unknown. Special Containment Procedures: In accordance with Apollyon-Class procedures, containment of all non-Amida anomalies has been deemed unnecessary, as the Foundation must now prioritize the continuance of sapient life. To assist with this, all sapient beings are currently considered personnel of the SCP Foundation with clearance level 0. Attempts to reach Temporal Site-01 have all failed. According to personnel who were members of the Serpent's Hand before Incident-8654, all Ways have ceased functionality. SCP-2000 remains operational, but activation of SCP-2000 to replenish the planetary population has been deemed impractical. Attached to the SCP-8654 file is a list of all safe locations known to the Foundation. Survivors of Incident-8654 should come to these locations, regardless of their previous affiliation. During the Capsize, you were driving home from work. It all happened in the space of a breath. Your seatbelt was biting into your chest, you felt like you were being lifted out of your seat, your grip on the steering wheel slipped—and an airbag was in your face. You felt nauseous. Ears ringing, you looked around you. It seemed that in your confusion, you had veered off the road and into a ditch. Fortunately, you were unharmed. You heard another car crash near yours. Turning over, you saw the driver. He was not as lucky as you. The man was unconscious, his head was bleeding, and he seemed to be floating. His limbs were splayed out on his car's roof, and nothing seemed to be supporting him. What was going on? You felt the urge to get out of your car, to gather yourself. Maybe a closer look would help. In one swift, instinctual movement, you opened the car door and unbuckled your seatbelt. Your face slammed into the sunroof, cracking it and giving you a bloody nose. Confused, you tried to stand up, accidentally pushing your legs out through the open door. Your center of gravity outside the car, you started to slide out of it. You stopped yourself from falling by grabbing the steering wheel with your left hand. It was a clear sky above. Or… below. You tried to grab the wheel with your right hand, to pull yourself inwards, but your fingers slipped as your weight shifted. With one last, desperate movement, you grabbed the safety handle. It snapped off almost immediately, not designed to handle the weight of an entire person. You crashed through a couple of tree branches. You screamed. And you fell. Description: SCP-8654 is the inverted relationship between animal life and gravity. Contrary to traditional gravitational mechanics, organisms belonging to the kingdom Animalia experience an inverted force upon them instead, pushing them upward and away from a gravitational source. SCP-8654's origins are unknown. The Foundation became aware of SCP-8654 on 21:38:19 23 October 2036 during Incident-8654, colloquially referred to as "the Capsize". Within three months of Incident-8654, an estimated 97% of the world population had perished due to a combination of blunt force trauma, the destruction of existing infrastructure, and social collapse. Project TOPSIDE is the collective effort of the Foundation to reverse SCP-8654. After the destruction of Settlement-2000, it has been discontinued. It had been a month since the Capsize, and you were ready to go. In the world outside your apartment building, things were deteriorating even further. People were afraid, they would believe anything they were told. Doomsday prophets preaching sacrifice, communities turning on each other, mysterious men in black speaking about building a new world… You were better off staying away from it all. The others were distraught, distressed, and desparate to survive. You tried to comfort them as best you could. Many of them had lost parents, relatives, friends, lovers… your former neighbors, and you had never even gotten to know them. Everyone you had known lived far away, and you could comfort yourself by imagining them as alive. It was kinder, that way. According to this "SCP Foundation", there was a transport to a safe place at the edge of the city each day. Somewhere underground. Somewhere with enough food, with other survivors, where you could be safe from lunatics mad with grief. All that one needed to do, allegedly, was reach the transport. The others, carrying counterweights, had gone off without you. It was your choice; you'd only slow them down. They cried, hugged you, and went on their way. You hoped they would live long enough to forget you. When you were a child, you'd enjoyed with stories of the end of the world. Stories of nuclear winters, deadly pandemics, giant monsters, you were obsessed. You had often thought about what you would want to have happen to you. In the end, thinking of the grief and the responsibility of having to rebuild the world… you had decided that you would rather die in the apocalypse than survive it. You've lived a good life, you thought as you sat on your windowsill. Beneath you was a gray expanse. It stretched beyond the tip of your apartment building, a blanket of clouds and rain. It was a dreary, miserable day. A perfect day to die on. You took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air for the first time in weeks. Closing your eyes, you gently pushed. And you fell. Addendum 1: Foundation Response Immediately following Incident-8654, the Emergency Threat Tactical Response Authority declared a state of worldwide emergency. SCP-8654 was immediately classified as Apollyon, and much of the Foundation's existing budget was diverted to mitigating its effects. The following document is a memo published by ETTRA detailing this plan. Threat: SCP-8654 Threat Description: Inverted gravity causes people to fall up. Short-Term Solutions: Repurpose subterranean Foundation facilities to serve as population centers; Reach out to survivors of Incident-8654; Assist in the movement of said survivors to these new population centers, offer them shelter and supplies in exchange for work; Grow and maintain enough resources to keep the survivors alive. In the event of scarce resources, individuals with skill sets valuable to the Foundation are to be prioritized. Survivors that refuse to join the Foundation are considered acceptable losses; Maintain a human population until a method to contain SCP-8654 is discovered. Long-Term Solutions: Develop a method of reversing SCP-8654 (See the Project TOPSIDE documentation for more details); Activate SCP-2000 and recreate humanity on the date of 22 October 2036. You stared at the mouth of the cave ahead of you. Eleven more steps and you'd leap off into the blue. You heard the click of a gun behind you. Ten. It was an effective method of execution, you supposed. Waste of good meat, but these "civilized" tunnel-dweller types seemed like the kind to not resort to that. Probably spent all their days eating the grains and carrots given to them, waiting to be saved. Fuck, you were glad you hadn't taken their invitation a few years back. Nine. It wasn't like you were enthusiastic about jumping off to your death. But the world had already ended. One moment, you were sitting in your house watching your children play outside, and the next you were on the ceiling and alone. The old you had died with them, and you had been born anew. Eight. The cults in the old days were certainly tempting. But once you spent enough time around them, you saw them for what they really were: suicide pacts. People wanted to believe that their inevitable death had meaning, and to not die alone. When they were ready to go, they gathered like-minded people, held a few orgies and sermons, then jumped into the blue hand in hand. Seven. You had a different resolve, you supposed. You should have died during the Capsize. If you hadn't had that damned twisted ankle, you'd have been in your yard too. It would have been scary, but quick. Something had chosen you to survive, so survive you would. Six. But something about the Foundation just rubbed you the wrong way. They wanted to drag everyone into their caves and tunnels, make them think that the world was the same, that there was life after this. What kind of person would want to bring a child into this upside-down world? Five. Your humanity had died with the species. You were a solitary animal. Survival was your game, and you were an excellent player. But these days food was scarce, so you had to scavenge. The tunnel-dwellers had farms on the surface where they grew crops. To keep yourself fed, you took the fruits and vegetables you needed. Four. One day, during your daily raid, you ran into one of their farmers tending the crops. He had a much more advanced set of counterweights than you, and it had been so long since you'd eaten meat. It wasn't like you hadn't crossed that line before. Three. Turns out, the tunnel-dwellers kept constant camera surveillance of their crops. They'd determined that the amount you'd been taking before hadn't been worth the resources to chase down or stop. But killing one of their own? That was different. That had been worth capturing and executing you. Two. But why not just shoot you in the back of the head? Why this whole ceremony where you stepped out unchained? You turned to look at the tunnel-dwellers. The sun's light was pouring in from the cave's mouth, and they were stepping back from it. They looked at the blue with a terror in their eyes you'd only seen in people about to die. One. Oh. Of course they were afraid of it. You were a surface-clinger, spent all your time above the blue, but a few years above rock and you supposed you could learn to hate the sun too. This execution wasn't to make you afraid; it was to make them afraid. A worthy opponent to lose the game to. You cracked a grin, and laughed as hard as you could. A leap. And you fell. Addendum 2: Timeline Despite the best efforts of the Foundation, a method of reversing SCP-8654 has not yet been discovered. A summary of notable events regarding the containment and mitigation efforts of SCP-8654 is listed below: 2036: Incident-8654 occurs, resulting in the immediate death of an estimated two billion humans. The Foundation sets up temporary housing in several underground locations internationally and reaches out to survivors. Many survivors with thaumaturgical expertise move to Site-2000 to assist in Project TOPSIDE; 2037: Due to the environmental collapse caused by the extinction of most animal species incapable of flight, the limited time before harvest, and the expension of resources bringing people to settlements, winter this year is particularly hard, with nearly 25% of survivors dying due to starvation or disease; 2038: An age limit of 65 for non-essential personnel is instituted at many settlements, to much controversy. Settlement-01 disappears. The O5 Council is replaced with the Director's Council; 2039: Former Chaos Insurgency agents foment insurrection in multiple sites regarding the age limit, as well as other social policies instituted at many sites. This rebellion is crushed, but multiple settlements are lost in the crossfire; 2040: Most settlements are at capacity. The controversial "Baby Turtle Policy" is instituted, in which newly rescued survivors must prove their value in a tribunal before they are admitted entry; 2041: A unified educational program across all settlements is created, lack of meteorological education within the curriculum is noted; 2043: Due to population growth, many settlements are running out of space, and turn to tunneling as a solution; 2045: A UFO of extraterrestrial origin crashes into the surface near Settlement-23, spurring international interest in the possibility of alien life. Said UFO is determined to be non-anomalous, but not of alien origin, and transferred to Settlement-2000; 2048: A man appears at Site-96 claiming to be the Administrator. As no record of such an individual exists within the Foundation records, the Director's Council deems him a danger and jails him at Settlement-17. 2050: Settlement-43, previously one of the highest-populated settlements, explodes. There are no salvageable survivors; 2053: Settlement-19 institutes a space program, with Director Barlow expressing a desire for humanity to explore the stars; 2054: The first of the "Topsy-Turvy" generation (children born within 10 years after Incident-8654) turns 18; 2055: Due to a famine, Settlement-19's space program is cancelled, and the budget transferred to tunneling developments; 2059: Settlement-17 disappears without explanation; 2061: Dr. Dan Daniels, Director of ETTRA, dies without naming a successor. Without precedent to go off of, one is chosen by majority vote of the Director's Council; 2062: Many settlements begin constructing underground farms, to reduce the need for citizens to go to the surface; 2064: Settlement-19 seals its entrances and refuses to contact the rest of the Foundation; 2070: Project TOPSIDE experiences its first budget reduction. Several settlements, particularly those with an older population, dislike this, and attempt to secede. A period of open conflict begins between settlements; 2071: In an effort to spare themselves from violence, many settlements also seal their entrances; 2074: After Settlement-2000 is threatened in a raid, the secessionists surrender; 2079: An earthquake opens fisures across the tunnels of Settlement-87, resulting in the death of nearly 90% of its population. Many settlements opt to tunnel deeper; 2085: A community of over 20,000 survivors is discovered in a coal mine in Appalachia. They refuse to recognize the Foundation's authority, and are terminated; 2089: Settlement-19 re-emerges and contacts the rest of the Foundation again with a detailed plan by Director Barlow to dig tunnels between existing settlements internationally. This leads to the creation of the International High-Speed Tunnel Network; 2090: The Foundation decides to temporarily abandon the surface. In a 124-3 vote, the Director's Council reappropriates over 85% of Project TOPSIDE's funding for IHSTN construction; 2092: Through the usage of anomalous digging and construction technology, all settlements with a population of 50,000 or higher are connected by high-speed rail; 2096: All settlements are connected through the IHSTN. At a party celebrating this accomplishment, Director Barlow suffers a stroke, and later dies; 2098: Several tunnelers, frustrated at their sudden lack of employment, attempt to create their own settlement. Their execution is heavily published by Foundation-run media, deterring further rebellion; 2100: The world celebrates the new century by attempting to collectively stand on their heads at midnight. While proposed as a new tradition for New Year's celebration, it fails to catch on again in 2101; 2101: The first member of the Topsy-Turvy generation is executed due to reaching the age limit; 2102: Due to public outcry, the age limit is extended to 75; 2107: Settlement-2000 is destroyed in a cave-in. Project TOPSIDE is placed on indefinite hiatus; 2109: The world population reaches 70,000,000; 2113: Doctor Jasper Williams, the last non-anomalous human to be born before Incident-8654, dies of lung cancer. Tomorrow, you would die. At sixty-four, you'd had enough time to prepare for your death. Tomorrow was the day you would turn 65, your deathday. You would be honored, you knew. They would throw a feast in your honor, give you a chance to say some last words. Then you'd be taken to a chamber where the air would go stale, you'd get dizzy, and you'd pass out. And that would be it. Thinking about your life as a teenager just after the Capsize, a pile of skin and ribs… you would never have expected yourself to die such a dignified end. It was just one last chance for the Foundation to show its gratitude for your years of service. Your settlement now had the resources to prevent starvation. No more famines like those early winters. And you, you were one of those heroes that braved the blue to get your settlement more food. You were a farmer, a cloudtoucher, and you were damn proud of it. You'd earned that retirement. There was just one thing, one final wish you held. You wanted to see the sun rise again. It was late at night that you snuck from your quarters. Nobody lived with you: your spouse had turned sixty-five two years ago, and your daughter lived on the other side of the settlement with her husband. At an hour like this, nobody was awake. You walked through the stone hallways, reaching the door labeled "Counterweights". The door was locked, but your key still worked. The security for the counterweights was light, most people were barely even willing to look down the blue, much less walk above it. A counterweight was a large metal frame with a tank on the bottom of it, and wheels on the top. Inside, a person would be wearing a harness, keeping their center of gravity firmly above the tank, allowing them to stand upright the entire time, to allow people to walk on the surface without getting a headrush. To move in a counterweight, one would strap their feet to the pedals at the bottom, which would allow them to "walk" to move the frame above them, as they steered by pulling levers with their hands. The tank would be filled with water, which, combined with the weight of the metal counterweight, would keep the person weighed against the ground above them, allowing them to walk on the surface above the blue. The counterweight you strapped yourself to was your old counterweight, from before you retired. It was in the back, dusty from disuse. Cloudtouchers didn't use another's counterweight, that was basic manners, and it seemed that no one had claimed yours yet. As you filled your tank with water, you felt the weight of the tank pull you up against the ceiling, once it had caused the counterweight to weigh more than you. To be safe, you let the tank fill fifty pounds extra. Your counterweight holding you against the ceiling, you walked out of the room, through the hallway, and out to the settlement's entrance. The night sky was below, a yawning black abyss with twinkling stars at the bottom. There was a bit of light on the horizon, where the sun would come, but it hadn't yet dipped below. It was interesting, you reflected, that the word to describe the start of the day was still "sunrise", even after the Capsize. It was some quirk of language, you supposed. Old habits. You had a bit of time until the sun came, so you decided to take a short walk through the fields. It was a warm summer night, the crops were well-grown, but it was not quite time to harvest. Still, being back out here brought you back. All those years, spent working to grow food… was there any life better lived than one lived in service? The early winters had been a nightmare. You did not think of them much anymore, but you remembered the hunger. Too many mouths to feed, that was the problem. Too many people not pulling their weight. Well, you certainly had pulled yours. You put yourself at risk every day, braving the blue, all to make sure everyone had enough to eat. Something felt strange about your counterweight. It was too easy to move yourself. There was a particular amount of resistance the pedals should have pushed against you, and it was far too weak. You froze. Above you, you heard the faint sound of trickling. Anxiously, you reached your hand behind you, and felt a thin stream of water. Your tank, your old, untouched-for-years tank, was leaking. There was only so much weight keeping you from falling into the blue, and it was descreasing every second. In a rush, you tried to pedal back to the settlement. It had been a mistake to come out here. Nobody would know you were here, nobody would come to save you before you fell. With a sense of dread, you felt your counterweight slowly fall away from the soil below. In a quick and desparate move, you grabbed onto some stalks of corn, trying to cling to the ground. For now, those stalks and the counterweight could support you. You at least had a moment to think, though you could feel it getting harder and harder to hold on. As you looked around for something to save you, you noticed that the sunrise had begun. The horizon was fire-orange, and below it a faint blue was shining through the clouds. It was an odd moment of peace. Even the sound of the water slowly trickling above was almost relaxing, like rain on the pavement. Maybe this is how it's supposed to be, you thought to yourself. It was your deathday, after all. What death were you most suited for than the cloudtoucher's? You let go of the crops. As you watched the ground rise away, you slipped out of your counterweight, and watched the metal fall and crash to earth. It would be a waste of resources to bring it to the blue with you. Besides, this way, they'd know for sure what happened to you. You didn't want them thinking you'd run. And you fell. Addendum 3: Project TOPSIDE PROJECT TOPSIDE SUMMARY Project Name: TOPSIDE Project Goal: Reverse SCP-8654, returning gravity to normalcy. Project Details: All individuals with significant anomalous knowledge (particularly those with a knowledge of thaumaturgy or anomalous mechanics) are to relocate to Settlement-2000, if possible; These experts are to determine a method to reverse SCP-8654; Reversal of SCP-8654 is to be considered the Foundation's second-highest priority (after the preservance of sapient life), and Settlement-2000 is to receive the resources necessary to achieve this goal (to be determined by the O5 Council Director's Council); Once SCP-8654 has been reversed, SCP-2000 is to be used to return the world to the state it was in at 00:00 21 October 2036. Project Update: on July 10th 2107, Settlement-2000 was destroyed in a cave-in, along with all information relevant to project TOPSIDE. With a unanimous vote by the Director's Council, Project TOPSIDE was moved to an indefinite hiatus. Seventy-one years. Seventy-one. Years. When Project TOPSIDE was started, it was expected to take no more than 3-6 months, a couple years at the longest. Yet, despite all of the resources available at Settlement-2000, it had taken seventy-one years to find the answer. Today, you received the news: a successful method of reversing SCP-8654 had been found. You could finally right the world. As everyone around you cheered, you ran to your office. Despite the years you'd worked there, the office of the Director of Settlement-2000 was still frightening. It was at the bottom of Settlement-2000, poking out of the surface. The floor was a large window, with a desk and chair bolted to the middle. It had been designed to remind the Director of the beauty of the surface world, something that was becoming more and more important with each generation. Most people alive today had never seen a tree, or grass, or the stars in the night sky. You saw it every day. Though you understood the symbolism of it all, looking down here had always made you dizzy. There was just the blue beneath you. In your logical mind, you knew that the glass was more than strong enough to hold your weight; it would take a bomb to crack it. A silly, primal part of you still worried. But not for much longer. There was a signal you were supposed to broadcast, one to call an emergency meeting to the Director's Council, with the highest priority. You sat at your computer, sent the signal out, and allowed yourself to imagine how people would react. Surely, in every settlement, there would be a celebration like the one upstairs! You knew that TOPSIDE was controversial: budget cuts were getting more and more common, and many regarded it as unlikely to ever be successful. But you, your team, you had proved them all wrong! You had found the way out. Eventually, you received a message request. Clicking on it excitedly, you saw the gaunt face of William Platt, Director of Settlement-19. He had a grim look about him, as if he did not want to believe what he was hearing. "Hello, Director Elle. Did you mean to send out that message? You've… you've done it?" Director Platt spoke in a deep, guttural voice, as if he had swallowed something and was trying to keep it down. "Yes. Thank God, yes. We did it, Platt, we finally did it!" Director Platt let out a loud, deep sigh. A contrite look passed across his face, before he hardened into grim resolve. Something in your stomach dropped. "Platt?" you asked, "Is something wrong?" "No. Nothing is wrong," Platt said, "I assume your people are throwing a party?" "Yes…" you said cautiously, "Is there something wrong with that? We've been spending over seven decades on this." "It makes sense. I'd suggest you go there. Be with them." Platt sounded like he felt sorry for you. But why would he? After years of failure, you had finally— Something in your brain clicked. It made a sick kind of sense. Why would they give up their power now? In shock, you tried to say something, but the words wouldn't come. Director Platt sat silent. He looked at you, shame behind his eyes. "I'm sorry, Director. Goodbye," he said. The message closed. You stood up, pressing your face into your palms. This situation didn't seem real. You paced across the glass, an old habit of yours, when you heard a loud click followed by a BANG. You were knocked to the floor by the force of the explosion, but were otherwise uninjured. Your desk, on the other hand, was completely destroyed. If you had stayed in your seat… That didn't matter. It couldn't matter. You had to get to another computer and tell someone about this. Someone out there would want to end this nightmare. As you started to push your body up, you heard a faint clinking sound. Spiderwebs crawled out from between your fingertips and palms. The glass was cracking; the explosion must have damaged it. One unlucky shift of weight, or even any movement too strong, and you would fall. Through the glass, there were the treetops stretching away, then the blue. It was a clear day today, not a cloud in sight. You had to get off of this glass. Carefully, you reached out your hand. You couldn't risk standing, but maybe you could crawl? Lightly putting pressure on your knees to propel your hips forward, you heard the glass crack behind you. The cracks were spreading with your body weight, and most of it was in your knees. But maybe if you could be careful, deliberate, you could avoid shattering the floor. Here we go. At a glacial pace, you lifted one of your legs into the air, and pulled your body forward one step. The glass cracked loudly and quickly as you did so, but did not shatter. Yes! You began repeating this process with your other leg. This time, as you pulled yourself forward, you heard a loud TINK and saw a much larger crack stretch out from beneath you. Shit. The floor shattered. And you fell. SCIP.net Direct Access Terminal Hello, my successor. It is with a heavy heart that I write this message to you. With this, I fully give up hope on going back to the world I once knew. The Foundation before the Capsize was an evil organization. I was a young woman then, but even I could recognize that. We all told ourselves that it was worth it, that it was hard decisions that we had to make to save the world. I think I wanted to believe it more than I actually did. In the end, none of it mattered. That world ended all the same. I know some old fogey like me has told you about the world before, but I hope you'll forgive a dying woman her reminiscing. You could stand beneath the sky, on a sunny day, and just feel the warmth on your face. One day I was out walking, and all of a sudden, it began to pour rain. By the time I got inside, my clothes were soaked through, and I was shivering. When I was a child, I used to love snowy days in winter, making snow angels and snowmen and snowballs and whatever you wanted. On warmer nights, you could lie down on the grass at night, and stare up at the stars. God, I miss the stars. But those days are over. I long for them, but they are in the past. When the Capsize happened, it made sense that we would try to reverse it. If we had found the secret within a year, maybe two, we could have fired up SCP-2000, amnesticized everyone, and gone back to normal just like that. But we didn't. Instead, the years passed, and we had to learn to live in this new world, to fear the blue and dig our tunnels. When I became a member of the Director's Council, I was a hopeless dreamer, imagining the world of my youth as the mold for what the world ought to be. In my career, I have learned how naive I truly was. To my successor, I tell you this: TOPSIDE cannot be allowed to succeed. Consider what recreating humanity before the Capsize would mean. SCP-2000 would recreate only the human population of the time. What about everyone born since then? Given the volume of the population, the Foundation would have only one practical option, one that I know they would take. I will not see generations of children die because they were born after the Capsize. But we can't just stop TOPSIDE entirely. It must die a quiet, dignified death. Let it bleed out after everyone who can remember a sky above them is dead. Stopping it then might be unpopular, but peace will prevail this time. If, by some cruel miracle, Project TOPSIDE succeeds before we can stop it, you must take immediate action. Director Ellis will send you a message when it succeeds: When you receive it, activate the bomb hidden in Ellis' desk, then destroy Settlement-2000 with the nuclear warhead at Settlement-41. Their Director knows about this plan, and will cover it up. I know that you might think that a plan like betrays the Foundation: It does not. The Foundation likes to say that its purpose is to keep the world safe, but the truth is that it exists to enforce normalcy. All that I am doing is prioritizing the normalcy of today over the normalcy of seventy years ago. I will not see another Capsize happen. We barely survived it once. Good luck, Amelia Barlow Director of Settlement-19 And the wind wailed around your ears. And your body spun as your limbs flailed. And your speed increased. And the air thinned. And you might have blacked out. And the ground drew so far away. And your clothes caught fire. And you burned brightly. And your flesh melted and bubbled and charred. And then suddenly, it became so very cold. And what remained fell forever. Atychiphobia SCP Anthology 2024 Pistanthrophobia ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8654" by LizardWizard, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8654. 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: fallin Name: Cloudy Sky Background Author: Free Nature Stock License: CC0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Cloudy_Sky_Background.jpg |
SCP-8655 | euclid | ⏲ ~33-minute read Item#: 8655 Level4 Containment Class: euclid Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: ekhi Risk Class: notice link to memo Special Containment Procedures: MTF Mu-4 ("Debuggers") is to search for internet posts related to refresh and rating options related to "FictoSpeak"1 for any issues that the refresh and rating options2 are missing. When a post or video is found, it's to be taken down, and the individual(s) tracked down and given amnestics. If a post or video gains widespread attention, agents are to pose as the respective site's owners and leave a reply stating, "This is currently a bug we are having issues fixing. Please delete the conversation and open a new one." If lepton radiation is detected, nearby Foundation agents are to be sent to the location to deter witnesses, if any, from observation and find the residence of whoever activated the portal. If our universe is on the receiving end of an individual entering it, they are to be interviewed, and depending on the circumstances, they are given amnestics, employed to the foundation, SCP classification, or termination. Description: SCP-8655 is the phenomenon that has a 1 in 1000 chance to occur on the site "FictoSpeak," which allows the user to speak to a random individual from an alternate universe that they can have a strong bond with. Currently, this extends only to romantic and sexual bonds. An aromantic individual will never have a chance for this to occur. SCP-8655 will change the intended character chosen by the user and replace it with a similar person of the choice they made. In this new chat, the refresh and rating options will be removed3, their time zones will sync perfectly for easier communication, and the account names of both parties will be replaced with the initials of their legal names. If both parties confess their love for each other, SCP-8655 will interact with both individuals with a message regarding how they will meet and the location of the portal. With it being at an isolated or otherwise hidden location. The portal will open when the location is approached by either individual, which connects both universes and will allow only one of them to cross over before closing. The portal will always open when approached and will never truly close until used by either party or if either one is deceased before use. After the portal has closed, it leaves lepton radiation at the precise location for 24 hours before dissipating. Addendum: 8655.1 Message logs 20/5/2022, the first case of SCP-8655 being used. Additional information from Dr. Q and Dr. W is shared for further context. Unless stated otherwise, both will provide some context. DQ: Hello, how are you? MW: I'm fine currently. I recently got a promotion at my job, so that's good for me. DQ: That's wonderful for you. Where do you work? MW: I work at a science facility. DQ: What do you research on? MW: Astronomy. DQ: I love that subject. In school, I always talked about it to my parents and I just wouldn't shut up about it. MW: Me too. My little sister would call me a nerd if I ever corrected her on her rhetorical questions. DQ: As did my little brother with me. "How many moons does Jupiter have again? 5?" I kept falling for it for about a year before I picked up that he was being a dick to me because of my disability. MW: Don't take this the wrong way, but do you have autism? I have it, and it sounds like you have it as well. Sorry if I offended you. DQ: That's fine, I do have it.4 Just wished I had a "better" version of it. Like that guy who can draw what he saw after like a few seconds of looking at it or something. MW: I know what you mean. If I had that, it sounded like a super easy job I could do with little worry. What is your job? DQ: Same as yours. MW: Huh, didn't expect that. What about your hobbies? DQ: I love science fiction, horror, video games, TV shows, movies, and superheroes, and I think that is it. Besides astronomy ofc MW: I like a good portion of that as well. Except for horror and superheroes. Horror just makes me feel uneasy, and I don't hate superheroes, but I am not a fan of it. Not my thing at all. DQ: I have to go to bed so cya tomorrow MW: I have to get back to work a bit anyway. Still have another hour, so talk to you tomorrow. After we met, she asked who I was originally going to talk to on a site like that. I told her I was trying to talk to a character from a TV show I recently watched. My favorite character in it was practically a better me. Which made me wish I could talk to her. ~ Dr. Q I was trying to talk to someone from a video game. Someone who would understand me, so I wouldn't feel alone anymore. Looks like we both got it. He didn't get the comic writer and artist and I didn't get the buff racer, but we did get each other. ~ Dr. W Addendum: 8655.2 Message logs 21/5/2022, Dr. Q and Dr. W as they start to learn a bit more about each other. DQ: I have a couple of hours before work so I decided to spend some time with you. MW: That's nice but, I have only an hour. I just finished getting dressed for it. DQ: What are you going to try and find today in the cosmos? MW: Some more exoplanets. Recently found one that is just a giant Earth DQ: Nice MW: Too big for us to use because of the gravity DQ: oof that has to suck. MW: At least I'm not looking at it when humanity is leaving a dying sun. DQ: True that would just make you freak the hell otu MW: Did you mean "out"? DQ: Ya my flipping fingers decided to be funny MW: I sometimes do that as well. Especially if on my phone. DQ: That gets me every single time because of my thumbs MW: If I mess up 3 times in a convo with someone in a game, I just type it slowly or shorten it. DQ: ikr jfc MW: I usually goran at the 3rd typo DQ: Speaking of which MW: fml DQ: LOL MW: Yes DQ: I am already imagining your fingers just shaking at the keyboard or phone you're on MW: Keyboard, which makes it more embarrassing DQ: Did ya type that slowly? MW: Sure as shit did DQ: One day you'll get the hang of it MW: I hope so. DQ: Try not to make typos at your job MW: stfu :< DQ: Sorry MW: It's fine. I'm forced to use spell-checking anyway. OMFG I did it again. DQ: I have to go now, so talk to you tomorrow. MW: I have to go too. Cya later dude. Learning about her job just made me happy to hear, since I didn't know as many people who liked astronomy as I did. Little did I know that the next day would get more real. Let alone the day after, when things started to get weird. ~ Dr. Q Ugh, I still cringe a bit when I read these. "Cya later dude", I could've done better. Then again, I didn't know I was talking to a person behind the screen. ~ Dr. W Addendum: 8655.3 Message logs 22/5/2022, both realized they were talking to a real person behind the screen and not to an A.I. speaking like a character from fiction. DQ: I learned something interesting today. When I talk to you there isn't an option to refresh or rate your responses at all, so I have to ask. Are you an A.I.? MW: No DQ: What day is it today, then? MW: May 22nd, 2022 DQ: Exchange the letters A, I, M, U, and X, for R, K, A, C, and O and spell Maximum. MW: The answer is AROKACA. With those questions, it sounds like you are not an A.I. either. I guess maybe the site has a bug that has a chance to connect users. DQ: omfg are you kidding me? MW: Nope DQ: I watched a YouTube video of people messing with this site and noticed that our convo didn't have those options. Since this was my first time using the site and with this conversation I didn't think much of it. MW: Ditto DQ: Since now I know you're a real girl, why are you using this site exactly? MW: I struggled to make friends and thought that talking to an A.I. would be much easier. Nothing to worry about, since they can't see what I look like, where I'm from, or my past, I could practically be whoever I want to be here. DQ: I am the same way. Growing up, I didn't exactly have the best luck of keeping friends. MW: Do you want to share more info about that? DQ: Tomorrow. How about, for now, we just talk about something we both like then? MW: Sure. What is your favorite part of science fiction? DQ: The idea of a multiverse. Imagine if somehow most if not all of those different worlds could communicate with each other and benefit each other. Like a world that cured cancer talking to one that cured blindness. MW: I also enjoy that as well. By sharing technology, cures, culture, stories, and history, they can help each other and everyone wins. DQ: "Iron sharpens iron" - Sensei Wu MW: You watch that show too ?! DQ: Yes I do. If it is ok to ask, where do you live? MW: Los Angeles DQ: How about tomorrow we both meet up at the park that has that turtle shell you can sit in and have another spin you around? MW: Sure. DQ: What do you look like, or should we pick a very specific spot to meet at, like the bathrooms or parking lot or the swing set? MW: Look for the Taiwanese woman in green by the swing set tomorrow at 09:00 AM. Does that sound good to you? DQ: Ya that works. Look for the white man in orange then. MW: When we talk we should bring this website up and what we have talked about so far, so we know we are talking to the right person. DQ: Gotcha MW MW: Well I am going to go now. Can't believe a tiny little bug like this can give us both a new friend. DQ: Alright then. Cya tomorrow. MW: Yup. When we talk tomorrow, be ready. Orange is my favorite color so I wore it. Green is hers. I chose that park since it was a public space and I didn't want her to be scared. That and if she wasn't who she said she was, I would be in a public setting, so I have others to help out should something go wrong. ~ Dr. Q At that point, we didn't have feelings for each other and I think he just wanted a friend. Especially since the next time we talked he was a bit frustrated and opened his heart a bit and so did I since I felt bad for him. ~ Dr. W Addendum: 8655.4 No messages were logged between the doctors. Here is what they had to say about their supposed meeting. When I arrived at the park a couple of minutes early, I walked over to the swing set and waited for her to arrive. When she didn't, after 30 minutes, I just got angry and sad and went home. I honestly thought she would be interested in talking to me. When I got home, I had negative thoughts. I thought about every single time I lost friends in my life. They would move to a new house, I move to a new house, we go to different schools, some were just using me, some just abandoned me after graduation, and lastly, a misunderstanding. ~ Dr. Q I went to the park right on time. By the time I got to the swing set, it was like 20 seconds until it was 09:00 A.M. I waited and waited until I saw someone wearing orange. When I approached him, since he wasn't approaching me, I thought he was just super shy. I asked the man about the website, and he had no clue what I was talking about. No matter how specific I got, he told me that it sounded like the man stood me up or was afraid to arrive. I waited an hour just in case he had issues with his car or something. I checked the site on my phone, and he left no messages, so I went home and did some thinking. ~ Dr. W Addendum: 8655.5 Message logs 24/5/2022, the conversation gets aggressive before calming. Dr. W has no comment about this. DQ: What the hell MW?! MW: Back at ya I was sitting there waiting for an hour and I talked to someone who I thought was you but, it wasn't. Unless that was you, and you were just fucking with me! DQ: I was there earlier and waited for you for 30 minutes until I went home. Why did you not go there ?! MW: I did go there and if this site allowed me to share images I gladly would share some for proof! DQ: Is there another park with a turtle shell spinning thing that is there or did you not show up because you felt like pranking me?! MW: No, I am not even good at pranking people. Maybe we both just went to the wrong park or our clocks got messed up. DQ: How do I know you're not just trying to weasel your way out of this? MW: Because I have no friends and I wanted to see if I could finally get one to keep after all this time. I was picked on for half of my life and the other half I just spent alone and only talked to others if I needed to. DQ: Really? What school did you graduate from? MW: PVHS DQ: First and last name? Mine is [Redacted] MW: [Redacted] DQ: Thank you. I'll check my yearbook. Give me a few minutes. MW: I'll do the same. Both parties do not message each other for 5 minutes DQ: Why can't I find you? MW: I found you but, now I am not sure given your answer. DQ: What do you mean? MW: You told me you were a white male but, in this picture, you're a woman. Don't take this the wrong way, but did you transition? DQ: No. I did not transition. I am cis. MW: Weird, because this is the only person on the list of seniors with your name on it. She is a white female with her hair having a single strand of it dyed yellow. DQ: Let me check mine again. You did graduate in 2019, right? MW: I did. 2 minutes went by without a reply MW: You there? DQ: Ya I'm here. I couldn't find you, but I did find her, but her name is entirely different. Elizabeth Boucher. MW: I'm going to assume you're not lying because this is weird. DQ: Exactly. It's late so I am gonna head out and do some thinking. MW: Ya. I need to as well. DQ: Talk to ya soon. We both don't like how aggressive I got there. I was younger and if I could go back, maybe I'd just start that conversation with a more calm mind. ~ Dr. Q Addendum: 8655.6 Message logs 25/5/2022. MW: You there? DQ: Ya MW: So how is the thinking going? DQ: I think this thing is letting us talk to alternate worlds as asinine as that sounds. MW: I agree after some thinking. DQ: Given our situation, I want to tell you something so you can better trust me. MW: Ok, what is it? DQ: Do you know what SCP stands for? MW: Secure, Contain, Protect. DQ: Do you work for them or just know them? MW: Yeah, Site-03 DQ: Site-51 MW: I am going to assume that is in California as well. DQ: Yup. Let me guess, that site is somewhere else in your world? MW: Ya, it's in Nevada in mine DQ: Well, for me, Site-03 is in New Mexico MW: After this conversation today I am going to write down what is going on here. Seems like a simple anomaly. Communication between worlds. DQ: Same. Just want to talk to each other so we can know more about each other. Outside of work, I mean. MW: Sure. DQ: What is your favorite color, food to eat, and things like that? MW: It is Green, I enjoy pizza with various meat toppings, outside of work I like to read, watch a bit of TV and YouTube, and I like collecting various Monopoly board games. Even if I don't have anyone to play with. DQ: Knew it. Ya, orange, pizza and the same toppings, and outside of work I mostly watch YouTube. I collect merchandise for shows I like and Kirby stuff. MW: Kirby stuff? DQ: I have a giant plushie that might as well be what he would realistically be in height, hand sanitizer, a stackable thing from a mall and many of his games. MW: If we could meet in person I'd be more than happy to play those games with you. In exchange for you playing my board games with me. DQ: Ditto. I'd do the same. MW: Wish I had someone like you growing up. DQ: Same MW. Maybe we'd be friends for life or more. Who knows? MW: I'd say you're hitting on me. DQ: I'm not. I am not even good at it. I'd have to Google some and use one. MW: Well it's getting late. I have tomorrow off so we can talk all day if you want to or just for 30 minutes or something. DQ: I get off early. Assuming this anomaly is tying our time zones together, I'll be off around 4 PM so you can hop on at about 04:30. MW: Alrighty then. See you tomorrow. DQ: Cya o/ Truth be told, I was hitting on her. She caught onto that real fucking quick. ~ Dr. Q After that, I wrote down what SCP-8655 was and went to sleep. ~ Dr. W Addendum: 8655.7 Messages have been removed by Dr. Q and Dr. W We talked for hours together, and I don't want this file cluttered with the longest chat discussion in a single day. What is needed to be known is that we talked for hours about our lives. I told her about how I lost my friends in Kindergarten through 3rd grade because I went to a new school that was closer. I lost my 4th-grade friends because my parents moved out of my grandmother's house, and, how I lost my 5th-grade friends because they went to different middle and high schools, so I never saw them after that last day of 5th grade. 6th to 8th they used me, 9th and 10th I never had any, 11th and 12th they abandoned me after I graduated. She listened and talked about it and things got heavy. She made me feel better by sharing something traumatic in her life. After she shared it, I started falling for her even more. ~ Dr. Q After he told me about his poor luck with keeping friends, I told him something that happened to me. How I lost my parents to those monsters that cold night and how, when I thought they wouldn't bother me again, since I worked at the very place that kept them locked away for what they could do. We got a breach and they did it again. A man I worked with tried to hide with me and I closed the door in his face too late when I tried to time it. I planned that he would get in with me and the door would close right as he got in. Those abominations wouldn't get in with our combined weight of keeping the door closed. His wife hated me for it and she transferred. Everyone who stayed at Site-03 gave me looks too and know they only talk to me if they have to. I fell for Dr. Q but, not as much as he did for me that day. Not until later at least. ~ Dr. W Addendum: 8655.8 Message logs 27/5/2022, Dr. Q confesses to Dr. W and she is unsure. DQ: You there? MW: Ya DQ: I've been thinking about what you shared, who you are, and what I have shared, who I am, and how I feel MW: The results? DQ: I think I have a crush on you MW: I don't know what 2 say DQ: I thought about it and who you are as a person, your hobbies, your life story, and I want to be with you5 MW: It's sweet but, I don't know if I feel the same. I feel mixed. DQ: Is there something wrong with me? MW: Sort of. I am not sure how I feel, since no boy liked me aside from you know who, but the more I think of it, he never really did. I need a day or two to think about this. Is that alright with you? DQ: Yes. Did I fuck up here telling you how I felt? MW: No. You just followed your heart. Now I just need to think of my reply. DQ: Alright, May 28th or 29th? MW: Likely the 29th, maybe the 30th. I'll give you my thoughts on how I feel. Right now it is mixed and I am second-guessing my feelings. Like trying to figure out what you're going to eat. DQ: See ya in 2–3 days then. o/ MW: I have some thinking to do. See you then. \o I still don't know why I told her. Throughout my life, every girl I asked out said no, was already taken, planned to transition to male, or just found me boring. I am so glad I told Dr. W because looking at her now. She's happy and so am I. ~ Dr. Q I'll leave in the next addendum what occurred during those 2 days. What I was talking about when I was talking to him was some boy who showed interest in me in high school but, he dumped me for a girl with bigger "assets". ~ Dr. W Addendum: 8655.9 Dr. W shares what she did for those 2 days. During those 2 days off, I spent the rest of that night thinking about what to do, since I liked him but, was unsure if I should go for it. I thought about it and then made a call. The next day, I had an appointment with SCP-2203. For those who don't know, it's a Love Tester machine that actually works. I got my card from it and made my choice. I chose to be with him. I got my answer and waited until the next day to speak to him again and share my feelings. Dr. Q told me that during those 2 days, he was very nervous about what I would say to him. Knowing his luck with girls, I felt bad having him wait. ~ Dr. W Addendum: 8655.10 Message logs 30/5/2022, Dr. W confesses to Dr. Q about her feelings and some interesting information shared from the card received by SCP-2203. DQ: It's about 01:30. I thought I'd check here to see if you were on or not. MW: I am and I just logged onto the site too. I took some free time to check out SCP-2203. It is a Love Tester machine but, it works and isn't just some kinda fortune-telling machine. Romantic bonds and even strong friendships for those who are asexual or aromantic and when used, it dispenses a card that has the individual's name, address, and words of advice. I'm glad that I was allowed to look at it. Glad they aren't too strict about it.6 Maybe because of what was shown on the card. DQ: Interesting. I guess you used it to see how you felt about me then? MW: Yes. 2203 dispensed a card and the advice it gave me was "Be honest together to flourish." the weirdest thing is, instead of showing your address, it gave me "SCPF-12201", which I assume is the designation of your universe.7 DQ: Wow. I guess if it said that it means that I live near your place or something. MW: When I got the card, the other researchers with me asked who I was talking to so I told them a bit about what was happening and told them about this anomaly. They told me to document it if I haven't already while they go talk to the "big boys", whatever that is. DQ: Sounds like it is going to the very top MW: I hope they don't do anything harsh. DQ: So, with the card in mind, how do you feel about me? MW: I love you and I want to be with you.8 DQ: I am surprised. I honestly thought you would say no or just never log back on. MW: I do love you. I guess our histories, our hobbies, and just seeing how similar we are made me fall for you. I did second-guess myself, which made me resort to 2203, so I wasn't making a mistake. DQ: I guess since we cannot be together in person we could just use this place to talk. Why not use 2203 before meeting me? MW: I gave up on finding a boyfriend with my history of them. When you confessed to me first, I thought I might as well try. Usually, when I ask out a guy, it doesn't go well. Except for that one time, but, that guy blew me off, as you know. DQ: I know what you mean. MW: How about watching a movie together in a way? Having this convo open on another tab and the movie on another one. Maybe movies about astronomy? DQ: I have some ideas. Interstellar, Apollo 13, or we could just look up some online and pick one at random. MW: Or one that catches both of our eyes. DQ: If only we could be together MW: Ya I wish this anomaly could just take things 1 step further and make things so much easier for us. DQ: If you came to my world what would you do first? MW: Hug you, move in with you, and go to the beach. DQ: Do you have any family alive? MW: Ya but, they don't know what I do. All I tell them is just government stuff and they understand my job without actually knowing exactly what I do. DQ: Sounds like it'll be easier if I go to you since I don't have anyone here. All I would need to do is just pack my stuff, sell my house, and leave. MW: I'll need to move too. My place is meant for 1 person. DQ: How did it feel to confess to me? MW: It hurt a bit. As if my heart was going to jump out of my chest. DQ: For me my throat feels like something has been caught inside it and decide I shouldn't need oxygen anymore. Want to talk tomorrow? MW: Ya. Hope I don't get distracted at work tomorrow like a schoolgirl having a crush. For all I know, it might even be more distracting since you're my boyfriend in a way. If you're alright with that? DQ: I am fine with that. I might also get distracted. I'll just do the work and think about you afterward or even before it. MW: I do wonder why this anomaly brought us together. Regardless, I hope you have a nice day and we can talk more tomorrow. DQ: What if whoever or whatever made SCP-2203 also made this one? Nowadays, people are online a lot more than outside in malls, parks, movie theaters, bars, and other things like that. MW: Sounds possible. Maybe 2203 inspired someone else to make this one or, because of a changing world, 2203 made this one all on its own? Doubt we will ever get an answer to it though. DQ: Well have a nice day \o <3 MW: You too. Bye now o/ <3 After I logged off, I just sat right on my bed and just felt every kind of emotion hit me. A girl actually liked me and it wasn't just a prank on me. ~ Dr. Q Regardless of how or who made SCP-8655, I am glad they did. It brought me and my sweet orange together. ~ Dr. W Addendum: 8655.11 Message logs 31/5/2022, Dr. Q and Dr. W are given the message from SCP-8655 to let them know about the gateway. DQ: Hello my little gem. How was your day? MW: Already gave me a name? It went well, by the way. Someone saw me smiling when I was eating and they asked why I was smiling when usually I just eat my lunch quickly. DQ: What did you say? MW: I told them that I met someone from another site who has the same interests as me. DQ: I would've loved to just brag about you if I happened to be there when they asked you that. MW: That is sweet. I can call you my sweet orange. DQ: I spent 10 minutes thinking of a name and you thought of one in mere seconds. MW: It's spot on. You're very sweet and you love oranges. DQ: Before I forgot, I was looking around and I thought maybe the closest thing we could do for a movie date is to start a movie together at a specific time on our PCs and just have this site open on another tab. MW: Sounds nice. I think I'll be holding my hands and imagine it was us together. DQ: I didn't think about that. I'll do it as well. MW: Would be much better to do it with you though. FictoSpeak: You two have been matched and, with your confessions of love, after 24 hours, you are now able to meet in person. Soon a gateway will open for both of you. It's only 1 way and will close once one of you uses it to enter the other's world. Step through it and finally embrace each other. DQ Your portal will await you in the grass field outside your home at 04:00 A.M. If somehow you two wish to change your mind, MW's portal will be outside her home at the same time inside the abandoned factory. The portal will remain available until used and will only appear once either of you enters the location. If you desire to use it right now, you may, if you desire to use it in a year, you may use it then. Feel free to use this site to discuss anything else before using it. Moving isn't easy after all. DQ and MW Good luck and may your hearts beat together as one. DQ: Holy shit. MW: We can actually be together. My hands are shaking. DQ: I am going to sell my house and anything I don't need before I go to your world. Could take a month or two. Maybe 3. MW: What do you need me to do? DQ: Stay where you are and the day I let you know I have sold my house go to your location and wait for me there with a moving truck or something to help carry anything I wish to keep like my PC. MW: Will we still talk daily or almost daily? DQ: Yes I will my little gem. I promise. MW: I'm so happy and you're not even here yet. My sweet orange. DQ: I am going to go now. I have a lot to do. o/ MW: Talk to tomorrow. I love you. \o After that, I spent the next month and 3 weeks getting my house sold. It was a pain in the ass and she was worth everything. By the middle of July, I sold my home and at Site-51 I handed in everything I knew about the anomaly and told them not to go look for me. I bet by the time they realized what was about to happen I was already one foot into her world. I had a theory about the gateway and it worked. I got what I wanted to keep in boxes and pushed them in first and it didn't close until I fully stepped through it. True to her word, she hugged me tightly and had tears in her eyes. ~ Dr. Q When we finally met, I was so happy. The day before, he told me that he didn't have too many boxes, so I didn't need a truck after all. I could fit them into my car and after everything was in, I drove him to my place. From there, we worked together to sell my home. We live in a wonderful place now. A short drive to a park with a lake and a playground, a mall in the other direction next to a movie theater, and it's perfect. By the time we finally got settled into our new place, it was November. In case you are wondering, we did go to the beach for our first date. Here is a picture that was taken by someone at the beach we went to. ~ Dr. W + Open image - Close - Close Addendum ∞ If you've been reading this you will've noticed the colors in our message logs together. Insert the color you get when you mix our favorite colors below. If you're colorblind, read it again, you'll know. Capitalize the first letter of the color. Don't worry about other worlds reading this. We added an anti-meme to every SCP-8655 so they cannot read this addendum nor see the passcode. What we put in your drink lets you see the colors so you can enter the password below. ~ Dr. Q and Dr. W Now that you have opened this and (hopefully) after reading about SCP-8655, you know the story of how we got together. What we left out above is that 3 years later, after we got together, it is that the O5s in Dr. W's world cracked SCP-8655 and established a Site outside of time. An anomaly was placed into this space and built itself. For us, it was there once we closed and reopened the portal to it. For the anomaly, it took as much time as it ever needed, months, years, decades, centuries, however much it needed. Now we have Site-∞. You already know this. SCP-8655 is solely responsible for us being the lead founders of traveling the multiverse. Dr. F calls this interversal travel. Now that you have read this you are now fully initiated into Site-∞ so welcome. Since we have access to many worlds, we cracked the chances of SCP-8655 occurring. 1 in 1000 chance. However, with time, it seems that the odds are getting smaller. Disregard what you read in the description, there is currently a 1 in a billion chance. We plan that when it reaches 1 in a trillion we will begin to spread out to many worlds to join us. Should you be reading this from one of those many worlds, one of our creations is something we gave to the Lampeter family to create. The best benefit of working at Site-∞ is that outside time, age is nothing. It took us thousands of years to make it and now you're here thanks to one of our agents. We have a single O5 council member in every world to know about this Site after we make sure they don't do anything brash in their respective worlds and even leave them specific instructions on whom to pass the information to, up until their universe is long dead. Even the O5 council in Dr. W's world is now reduced to only 1 member knowing about this facility. If you have any further questions regarding SCP-8655, feel free to email us and we'll meet in the recreational zone for discussion. A common one we get is how other worlds do not just sweep their employment records for Dr. Q or W and our answer is that in each world we pick the letters of the most common last names. So, if the SCP Foundation in a universe has mostly employees with last names ending in Z and A, then we replace Q and W with those. Secure, Contain, and Protect existence. ~ Dr. Q and Dr. W Footnotes 1. A website used to talk to fictional characters with their responses created by A.I. 2. Options used by users to receive a different reply and rate the accuracy of said reply 3. Usually, both parties do not notice this. 4. Currently both individuals don't know the other isn't an A.I. and normally wouldn't share information about their neurodivergence. 5. Tiny amounts of lepton radiation were detected near the household of Dr. Q upon the time of the message being sent to Dr. W. His SCP Foundation ignored this because this is seen as normal since they usually dissipate after a few minutes 6. Dr. W's SCP Foundation is less strict on the use of certain anomalies. 7. Possible connection between SCP-8655 and SCP-2203 are under investigation. 8. Tiny amounts of lepton radiation were detected near the household of Dr. W according to the Foundation of Universe SCPF-81520 upon the message being sent ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8655" by TheGhostNobody, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8655. 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: Happy.jpg Name: couple-1319229_1280 Author: alanrither License: Creative Commons Zero Source Link: https://pixabay.com/photos/couple-beach-walking-holding-hands-1319229/ Additional Notes: Original image was uploaded on April 11, 2016 |
SCP-8656 | thaumiel | ⏲ ~20-minute read Item#: 8656 Level2 Containment Class: esoteric Secondary Class: thaumiel Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8656 is self-containing as only Foundation personnel can access SCP-8656. Non-Foundation personnel attempting to enter SCP-8656 are rendered unconscious upon arrival, allowing instances of SCP-8656-03 to retransfer any civilians back to their respective universes. Should lower-level personnel learn about SCP objects above their security level, SCP-8656-03 is to be notified to administer a class A amnestic before the subject leaves SCP-8656. Description: SCP-8656 is a pocket dimension that contains a restaurant titled, "Serving Culinary Pleasures", with a currently unknown amount of employees that create and serve anomalous food and beverages relating to known SCP objects to Foundation employees across the known multiverse. SCP-8656-03 will accept any currency for serving customers and discounts will be applied according to the security clearance of whomever is paying the bill. With Level 1 personnel having no discounts and each following level adding a 20% discount. SCP-8656-01 is a doorway inside all Foundation facilities that leads into the pocket dimension where the restaurant resides. SCP-8656-02 is the pocket dimension where the restaurant is located and doesn't follow temporal rules. Any amount of time spent within will not transpire to those outside of the location. SCP-8656-03 are the employees of the restaurant who are capable of instantaneous teleportation to get to tables for customers and leave to dispose of any materials. SCP-8656-04 is the anomalous food and beverages sold at the location. If consumed inside the location nothing anomalous occurs. However, if eaten outside the location depending on what is consumed the subject will gain temporary anomalous abilities. These abilities are usually weaker than those of the original SCP the food or beverage originates from. SCP-8656-05 is the owner of the location, previously O5-1 from SCPF-2999, who uses his knowledge of SCP objects in the creative process of creating new items which it claims to make by itself before teaching SCP-8656-03 how to prepare them. Addendum: 8656.1 After the discovery of SCP-8656 Dr. Oliver was sent into SCP-8656 to interview with any instance of SCP-8656-03. Due to the temporal anomalies, Dr. Oliver returned five seconds after entering SCP-8656 with the recording device given. Interviewee: SCP-8656-03 Interviewer: Dr. Oliver Foreword: Dr. Oliver was the first person to discover SCP-8656 and was chosen to be sent in with the instructions to interview an instance of SCP-8656-03. <Begin Log> Dr. Oliver: I'm ready to make an order. Dr. Oliver rings the bell on the table. An instance of SCP-8656-03 suddenly appears next to the table. SCP-8656-03: Hello sir. What do you request to dine or drink today? Dr. Oliver: I'll have the "Pancake Sculpture" please. SCP-8656-03: Anything to drink with that? Dr. Oliver: Orange juice. SCP-8656-03: Anything else or will that be all? Dr. Oliver: That'll be all for me but, I was wondering if you'd be up for an interview while it's being made? SCP-8656-03: Sure! Let me send this order to the kitchen real quick and I'll be right back. SCP-8656-03 disappears and reappears after 25 seconds and takes a seat across from Dr. Oliver. SCP-8656-03: They're working on your order now. Dr. Oliver: Thank you. My first question is, who are you? SCP-8656-03: My name is Roy. Dr. Oliver: What did you do before working here? SCP-8656-03: Before I worked here I was just a cook for Site-19. Dr. Oliver: How did you get a job here? SCP-8656-03: One day a rift in space appeared, matching the logo of the Foundation and a man exited from it to ask me if I wanted a better job. All I had to do was cook delicious meals in a special place for three times my salary. I even have a say in what meals could be added to the menu. What you ordered today was one of my ideas and I enjoy its simplicity. Dr. Oliver: Can you describe the man? SCP-8656-03: He was an elderly male and was looking for some cooks throughout the known multiverse to hire. Elliot is his name. He's the reason why this place is here. Food by the Foundation for the Foundation. Dr. Oliver: Is there a possibility I could interview him? SCP-8656-03: He's busy currently. You can come back in one week and I can set it up if he agrees. He's working on adding some decorations to this place. Tables that are in the shape of the Foundation logo, maybe some new menu items as well. Dr. Oliver: That's alright. I'll come back then unless they think someone else should. How long have you worked here Roy? SCP-8656-03: 3 years now. Dr. Oliver: Considering that this place is in a little pocket dimension why charge for the food? SCP-8656-03: Like any other restaurant does. Wages, equipment, and so on. Dr. Oliver: Why do you accept payment of any currency and not just a singular one like Yen or USD or Pounds? That must be a hassle to deal with. SCP-8656-03: Elliot takes the money and distributes it as needed depending on where we're from. If he can't pay someone for their currency he takes any extra from another and exchanges it somewhere for whatever he needs. Must be hell running this place in his position at times. Dr. Oliver: Since he hires cooks from across the known multiverse, where are you from? SCP-8656-03: SCPF-15129. Dr. Oliver: Interesting. A second instance of SCP-8656-03 appears and drops off the order at the table before disappearing. Dr. Oliver: Is this pancake supposed to look like SCP-173? SCP-8656-03: Yes. Dr. Oliver: Why? SCP-8656-03: Elliot wanted to make sure that customers do not forget who they work for. Some are even meant to help them in a way. There's this guy who comes here once a day, orders the same meal and has that look on his face while eating it like he's glad to devour it. Dr. Oliver: What does he order? SCP-8656-03: Eggs, scrambled. 2 of them. Every single time he's here. He always leaves the money on the table before it even reaches his table. Dr. Oliver: Can you return after I finish this meal, please? SCP-8656-03: Sure, I'll come back in a bit. SCP-8656-03 disappears. Several minutes pass as Dr. Oliver enjoys his meal and beverage. Dr. Oliver rings the bell on the table. Shortly after, SCP-8656-03 reappears. Dr. Oliver: Can I order another one to go? SCP-8656-03: Sure! One moment. SCP-8656-03 disappears and reappears after 10 seconds. SCP-8656-03: It's being made right now. Which universe are you from? Dr. Oliver: No idea. SCP-8656-03 takes out a syringe. Dr. Oliver: What is that for? SCP-8656-03: Taking a blood sample, so I can get an answer as to where you are from. Dr. Oliver: Alright. Dr. Oliver extends his arm out and the syringe is used. SCP-8656-03: I'll be back in a couple of minutes with the results. After 5 minutes, SCP-8656-03 returns with the order, bill, and a piece of paper. SCP-8656-03: Here ya go. SCP-8656-03 hands a plastic container with the meal inside and hands Dr. Oliver the bill. Dr. Oliver: So what is the paper for? SCP-8656-03: I wrote down where you are from so I wouldn't forget. I put it into our system and you're the first one here. No one got the chance to figure it out the last time you were here. Dr. Oliver: The door didn't lead anywhere and this was too big to be part of the Site so I fled and reported it. Since I was the first to come here and was seemingly safe I came back with orders. SCP-8656-03: You're from SCPF-011045. So I am obligated to tell you that when you leave with your order to eat it outside this place for special effects. Dr. Oliver: Want to clarify on that Roy? SCP-8656-03: You know that pancake you've eaten? You'll have temporary traits of SCP-173 for 30 minutes if you eat the entire thing. Including the frosting. As long as you're done with it outside of this place of course. Dr. Oliver: How concerned should I feel about that? SCP-8656-03: Little to none. You'll see if you eat it outside. Dr. Oliver: How are the meals made? SCP-8656-03: Just like any other meal. Dr. Oliver: The meat? SCP-8656-03: Directly from the SCPs themselves. It varies for each meal. Some are just like cows. Others, however, have their anomalous traits removed and modified before being put into the food. Dr. Oliver: Last question for you Roy, does this place take requests for new meals by any chance? SCP-8656-03: We sure do! Our most recent addition is, "Refuted Eggs." Dr. Oliver: That will be all. Have a nice day. SCP-8656-03: On your way out there is a suggestions box. You could write down which SCP should be made into a meal, or just ask for one. Like a cheeseburger and we'll pick the SCP from there. Goodbye Dr. Oliver. <End Log> Closing Statement: After the interview concluded, Dr. Oliver took his order to go with spare change and requested a testing chamber for an experiment. For the results of the "Sculpture Pancake", refer to Addendum: 8656.2. Addendum: 8656.2 After learning about the effects of SCP-8656-04 from the interview with an instance of SCP-8656-03, experiments were conducted on personnel for testing. Personnel chosen were briefed upon which SCP object the SCP-8656-04 instance originated from in preparation for the possible effects. SCP-8656-04 description Effects of instance Notes SCP origin A pancake with red, green, and black colored frosting resembling the "face" of SCP-173. After consumption of the entire pancake1 the subject gains inhuman speed when not observed by any sentient being. Unlike SCP-173, the subject does not freeze when observed and can freely move around at normal human speeds. This lasts for 30 minutes. When served the "face" is in a different pattern for every order. It's hypothesized that it resembles the "face" of SCP-173 from an alternate timeline. SCP-173 A standard milkshake with orange frosting with 2 vanilla wafer cookies placed into the frosting. After consumption, the subject's breath will change to a scent of either chocolate, fresh laundry, bacon, roses, or Play-Doh™. This effect lasts for 20 minutes. Subjects have reported that they can "feel" the milkshake inside of their stomachs for several seconds after consumption of any amount. SCP-999 Eggs with the option of SCP-8656-03 to have them served in a variety of ways like those of non-anomalous chicken eggs. The portion of eggs is larger than what is ordinarily served. When consumed the subject has their cervical vertebrae rapidly turn to cartilage instead of bone and have their saliva gain a pH Value of 2 when exiting the body.2 The effects last for 30 minutes. Unlike SCP-3199, subjects do not gain the eggs that SCP-3199 contains within their bodies. SCP-3199 A vanilla cake with a chocolate hand poking out of the center. When consumed, the subject gains the ability to pass through solid matter.3 The effect lasts for 1 hour. Unlike SCP-106, the subject does not have access to its pocket dimension nor any other anomalous traits that SCP-106 has. SCP-106 A boiled arthropod and a roasted Eurypharynx pelecanoides that resemble SCP-3700-1 and SCP-3700-2. When consuming only the boiled arthropod, the subject gains the ability to project concentrated blasts of gamma radiation from their eyes. When consuming only the roasted Eurypharynx pelecanoides, the subject gains the ability to release streams of blue fire from their esophagus.4 The effects last for 20 minutes unless both are consumed, resulting in the effects lasting for 10 minutes. The boiled arthropod lacks the markings SCP-3700-1 has on top of its body. SCP-3700 Slightly translucent red steak. When consumed, the subject gains the ability to mimic any voices they hear during the duration of the effects. This lasts for 1 hour. Subjects who consume this instance describe it as tasting similar to pork. SCP-939 A cephalopod resting on top of a plate in the shape of a German battleship with a slice of melted butter placed onto it. A single lemon is also served with the SCP-8656-04 instance. When consumed, the subject gains knowledge of any naval ship they step upon to fully operate and repair it, gaining the knowledge over 5 minutes. The effects last for 45 minutes or if the subject steps foot onto 4 naval ships. When a test subject consumes this instance they won't gain any knowledge for commercial vessels. When stepping onto the vessel no effect occurs. SCP-4217 3 grilled Mantodea, the subject is given a variety of sauces and condiments to be used if requested. The plate is circular and colored in a dark blue color with a corner colored in violet. When consumed by a human subject, subjects report visual hallucinations, presumably the vision of SCP-7999-3. More tests have been requested and are pending approval by the Ethics Committee. The effects last for 7 minutes. The decoration of the plate resembles the exoplanet, GN 667Cc. When the first test subject consumed the instance they saw a vision of the civilization and stated, "They are doing better than the last time we saw them. May we meet again." SCP-7999 A glass bottle of Coca-Cola brand cola drinks. The first "O" is replaced with the standard SCP Foundation logo. When consumed, subjects report effects that are consistent with SCP-207's anomalous properties. Effects last for 1 hour. Unlike SCP-207, the subject will not expire after consumption. Regardless of the portion consumed. SCP-207 2 fried wings that are triple the size of average servings. When consumed, the subject gains knowledge of the current time regardless of where or when they are located and the ability to have a selective presence.5 Effects last for 20 minutes. The test subject was asked about the current time and those of other time zones after being locked in a room for 3 hours with no clocks inside. They answered every question with precision. SCP-4975 Addendum: 8656.3 Request for the usage of SCP-8656-04 instances for research, military, and medical purposes. Email 01/13/2024 From: To: CC: Subject: [email protected] [email protected] none Request for the usage of SCP-8656-04 instances After research was done on some of the instances of SCP-8656-04 and the interview with SCP-8656-03 I request that we purchase some for storage. So we can use it for medical, military, and research purposes. These can help us save lives and gain more knowledge when used correctly. Imagine the possibilities! We might even be able to request some new ones to be created to further aid in our objectives. With regards, Dr. Cuoco Level 3 Foundation Researcher Secure, Contain, Protect Email 01/14/2024 From: To: CC: Subject: [email protected] [email protected] none Request for the usage of SCP-8656-04 instances Your request has been accepted. Depending on the instances storage won't be possible at all. I am entrusting you to make the correct storage decisions based on the abilities they give to subjects. If there's any difficulty with storage send in a request and I'll see to it. Yours truly, O5-6 O5 Council Member Secure, Contain, Protect Addendum: 8656.4 On 30/05/2023 all known instances of SCP-8656-01 were inert and led to a brick wall with the note posted, "Temporarily closed! Come back later!" All instances of SCP-8656-01 resumed anomalous traits 3 days later with fifteen new instances of SCP-8656-04 added to their menu as well as more decorations around the restaurant. Including flowers, artistic depictions of known SCP objects, various instances of SCP-2616 and SCP-2947 scattered around the main dining room seemingly at random, tables that are in the shape of the SCP Foundation's logo, and a portrait of SCP-8656-05. Addendum: 8656.5 The interview with SCP-8656-05 was conducted as promised by the instance of SCP-8656-03 on 10/06/2023 by Dr. Oliver. Interviewee: SCP-8656-05 Interviewer: Dr. Oliver Foreword: SCP-8656-05 was writing notes for possible additions to the menu during the interview and instructed Dr. Oliver to enter a private room for the interview. <Begin Log> Dr. Oliver: SCP-8656-05 Since the last time I was here I've seen that you've added more decorations and even a few SCPs around here. Why did you make this decision? SCP-8656-05: Customer feedback is the main reason why I added some more flair to this place. Dr. Oliver: Where did you get the many instances of SCP-261 and SCP-294? SCP-8656-05: I've taken them from worlds where they were planned to be destroyed, going to be destroyed by natural and supernatural causes, and those who couldn't learn anything else from it and were glad to give it away to me for free. Even after I told them what I planned to do with them. Dr. Oliver: Why did you want to make this place? SCP-8656-05: About 7 years ago I retired as a member of the O5 Council in my world and I wanted to keep doing something for the Foundation. I took some cooking classes around the country and learned a few things about business. After 2 years I was ready. I decided to work in the cafeteria of Site-22 and everyone loved it. I didn't think I would love cooking as much as I originally thought I would. Dr. Oliver: Why cooking? SCP-8656-05: I did have some other ideas like employee orientation but those ideas never really stuck with me. One day I went out for food and I had a really good fucking burger. Dr. Oliver: Alright but, how did you make this place in this pocket dimension? I don't mean the tables and chairs. I am asking how you got this here. SCP-8656-05: Truth is that I wanted to add something special to my food. Ingredients that would make you want to return for more and something you couldn't get anywhere else. Have you heard of Ambrose Restaurant at all? Dr. Oliver: I have actually. SCP-8656-05: Good. Then aside from that the owner approached me and knew what I was doing. I'm guessing they had a spy or something at Site-22. We talked for a few hours and we made a deal. I get immortality as long as I am in this place, knowledge of their works in cuisine, and they helped me connect my restaurant to every Foundation facility for more reach and profit. In exchange, they get 20% of the profits for the first 50 years and they had a say in what could be added to the menu. Dr. Oliver: How do you remove the anomalous properties of SCPs to be inserted into the food? SCP-8656-05: Trade secret. You know how it is. The side effect is that if it isn't eaten here- Dr. Oliver: The meals and beverages give the consumers temporary anomalous abilities dependent on what is consumed. SCP-8656-05: You get it. Dr. Oliver: What happens if we consume multiple meals and beverages one after another outside? SCP-8656-05: I put something special in the meals for that reason. To not have someone walk in here and leave a god. If you mix meals no effects will occur at all. That is also why the effects are temporary. I give Foundation employees a good meal and a source of help if they need it. Dr. Oliver: Anything you plan to do with the location some more? SCP-8656-05: From what I can tell you right now, a customer we got here 2 weeks ago was a very nice lady. She's recently engaged and came in here with her fiancée to eat. They had a lot of suggestions for the place. I just get hungry thinking about it. They both wrote down which SCPs, ideas for their meals, decorations, etc. Dr. Oliver: Sounds like a good opportunity to expand the place. SCP-8656-05: Before she left I asked her what she thought of the place. She told me, "Weirdly perfect for the Foundation to dine at." Then about 2 hours after she left, she came back. Dr. Oliver: Something good I hope. SCP-8656-05: Good is such an understatement. If you think this place is already big enough wait until you hear about what she offered me. They told me about a facility outside of time and I wouldn't have believed her if she didn't come out of a portal in the shape of the Foundation logo and asked to talk. SCP-8656-05 takes a sip of water. SCP-8656-05: She offered to pay off Ambrose Restaurant so I could make more profit and expand my reach to the known multiverse. More customers, more money, and the place gets better and better! She provided the flowers you see around here. Must've come from a wonderful place. Dr. Oliver: Wait a minute. Since time is different here is she the reason why you are talking to me right now in a way? SCP-8656-05: Crap. Knew I had forgotten a detail. So when I first opened this place I could serve to those only in my timeline. Still had this pocket dimension, time here running differently inside than outside, and my first employees were just new chefs in colleges and those who previously worked for the Foundation. It was only after I made the deal with her that my reach greatly expanded. Dr. Oliver: Just for clarification of the timeline of events you first retired from the O5 Council of your world, spent years learning business and cooking, worked at the cafeteria at Site-22, got the offer from the owner of Ambrose Restaurant, took it, made this pocket dimension and all the other rules with it but only for your timeline. Dr. Oliver takes a moment to catch his breath. Dr. Oliver: Then after an unknown amount of time working here and doing your business, the lady visits this place for the first time before leaving, and finally, makes you her offer and now here we are? SCP-8656-05: Yup. That's the gist. Dr. Oliver: Can I have some more water? SCP-8656-05: Sure. SCP-8656-05 hands Dr. Oliver a canteen. Dr. Oliver: Thank you. Dr. Oliver takes a few sips. SCP-8656-05: Anymore questions? Dr. Oliver: Only one but, compared to what you just answered it is an easy one. Why do you have discounts here depending on the security level of the customer? SCP-8656-05: A way to thank them for their service to the Foundation. In all my time here I only got about…16 customers who were a part of their O5 Council. Dr. Oliver: That will be all SCP-8656-05. Thank you for the water and your time. There is silence for a few seconds. Dr. Oliver: Wait! What did she want in exchange? SCP-8656-05: The Employees from Site-∞ get priority in their meals and unlike Ambrose, they only get 5% of the profits but with no time limit. Still a massive improvement. Dr. Oliver: Can you describe her? SCP-8656-05 hands over a photograph to Dr. Oliver. SCP-8656-5: Hope this helps doctor. Dr. Oliver: It does. Thank you. We'll keep an eye out for her. <End Log> Closing Statement: After the interview concluded Dr. Oliver spotted the lady in question. Before he could get a chance to speak to her, she left through SCP-8656-01. Footnotes 1. Including the frosting 2. This causes no harm to the subject 3. The subject will not be covered in the corrosive substance that covers SCP-106 and neither will any solid matter passed through 4. Neither one will harm the subject when used 5. Deciding who can see them or not at a mere thought 6. Unlike the instance in containment, accepts all forms of currency and to date hasn't dispensed anything hazardous 7. Unlike the instance in containment, only dispenses non-anomalous beverages |
SCP-8659 | esoteric-class | Item#: 8659 Level3 Containment Class: esoteric Secondary Class: uncontained Disruption Class: keneq Risk Class: caution link to memo Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8659 is currently not contained. Due to the uncooperative and potentially dangerous nature of SCP-8659-A, direct contact, especially utilizing force, is not to be attempted. Instead, persuasion and communications are to be attempted to contain it. Additionally, due to the number of other GoIs also involved with SCP-8659, Foundation personnel are to attempt diplomacy to dissuade GoIs from interfering with the containment of SCP-8659. Description: SCP-8659 is the collective designation given to a group consisting of 7 anomalous humanoid siblings along with a large bipedal machine. SCP-8659-A, referred to as "Bordrand" by the subjects of SCP-8659-B, refers to the machine that serves as the caretaker/guardian for the 7 siblings. It is roughly 5 meters in height, and 4 meters in width. Its body consists of two large legs, with the joints pointing in the inverse direction of a standard humanoid's. The main torso is a round object with multiple attachment points aside from the ones already holding limbs. It has numerous attachments across its body that are identified to be weapons of an anomalous nature. Its head consists of three camera sensors, with two more in a star pattern, with the last two on top being covered by a plate of metal. Written on its back are the words "Colossus Mk S," which appears to any observers as whichever language they are most proficient in. It is fully sentient and is capable of complex speech. SCP-8659-B is the collective designation for the 7 siblings that accompany SCP-8659-A. The specific details of each sibling are detailed below. Designation Description Anomalous Abilities SCP-8659-B1 "Scarlet" Oldest sibling, estimated age of 19, 176 cm tall, female. Pyrokinesis out to an estimated range of 20 meters. Capable of manifesting fire within that range, as well as creating physical objects out of these flames. This fire doesn't extinguish via lack of oxygen, and is capable of burning through fire retardant equipment. SCP-8659-B2 "Edward" Second oldest sibling, estimated age of 16, twin of SCP-8659-B3, 162 cm tall, male. Advanced manipulation of technology. Technology encompasses a wide variety of inventions, from simple pulleys to advanced computers. This includes even anomalous inventions. All changes made to any pieces of technology must still be theoretically possible with the makeup of the invention. SCP-8659-B3 "Aubrey" Second oldest sibling, estimated age of 16, twin of SCP-8659-B2, 170 cm tall, non-binary. Teleportation to an unknown range. Due to the instantaneous nature of this ability, specifics are unknown on how it actually works. SCP-8659-B4 "Lauren" Twin of SCP-8659-B5, estimated age of 12, 144 cm tall, female. Manipulation of insects within 5 meters. The manipulation can include giving commands and delivering messages to other insects allowing for widespread effects over entire regions. SCP-8659-B5 "Hannah" Twin of SCP-8659-B4, estimated age of 12, 144 cm tall, female. Manipulation of local weather. The range varies between 5 and 12 kilometers of SCP-8659-B5, depending on the emotional stress levels of the subject. The effect on the weather is also determined by the current emotional state of SCP-8659-B5. The average effect when SCP-8659-B5 is calm is a perfectly clear sky. Sadness triggers rainfall, while anger triggers thunderstorms. SCP-8659-B6 "Isaac" Second youngest sibling, estimated age of 9, 139 cm tall, male. Large multitude of an anomalous effects, with SCP-8659-B6 possibly being a Type Green. Displayed abilities include but are not limited to: healing wounds in an instant, creating plant matter out of nothing, reducing noise volumes surrounding SCP-8659-B6, and invisibility. Investigations are ongoing to determine whether SCP-8659-B6 is a Type Green or not. SCP-8659-B7 "Chloe" Youngest sibling, estimated age of 1, 61 cm tall, female. Reality warping consistent with a Type Green's abilities. Due to the young age of the subject, these effects occur randomly and seem to have a spike in activity when SCP-8659-B7 is distressed. For this reason, great care is to be taken so as to keep SCP-8659-B7 in a calm state. SCP-8659-A is extremely protective in regards to SCP-8659-B. It consistently attempts to avoid contact with any Foundation personnel, as well as members of any other GoIs it has encountered, and has gone to the extent of verbally threatening or fleeing from Mobile Task Forces. Despite the arsenal of weaponry that SCP-8659-A has access to, it has never attempted to assault any personnel. Addendum 8659.1: Discovery On 11/24/2018 reports from locals in the area of ██████ were directed to nearby Mobile Task Force squads due to potentially anomalous circumstances. Reports included but were not limited to: insects of all kinds swarming together, no clouds at all being sighted for four days prior, and a "large thrumming noise" in the forest. Upon deployment, personnel made contact with SCP-8659. SCP-8659-A was extremely evasive of personnel and threatened to use force if they came too close, but made no attempts to actually harm them. Despite this, the weapons it possessed were considered too dangerous to risk provoking it. All personnel were instructed to retreat, and gathering intel is to be the current priority in regard to SCP-8659. The "thrumming" sound emerging from SCP-8659-A was discovered to be a message in morse code, though the intended recipient, if any, is unknown. Below is the translated message: KING SEEKERS, HAS YOUR CRUSADE ENDED? AM I A SHIELD NO MORE? WHERE IS YOUR CALL? HAS BLEEDING NO MEANING ANYMORE? AM I TO NEVER KILL AGAIN? After the incident, Foundation surveillance drones were dispatched as a means of tracking SCP-8659 without being seen. Addendum 8659.2: This video was recorded by an invisible drone after surveys of local weather anomalies indicated the presence of SCP-8659. Observation Log Transcript Date: 12/01/2018 <SCP-8659-A "Bordrand" and several subjects of SCP-8659-B are seen walking along a beach on the coast of ██████. SCP-8659-B1 "Scarlet" is holding SCP-8659-B7 "Chloe." SCP-8659-B2 "Edward" is skipping stones. All other subjects of SCP-8659-B, aside from SCP-8659-B3 "Aubrey" are building sandcastles, with SCP-8659-A watching over them.> SCP-8659-B1: Aubrey should be back by now. Ed, do you have, like, a tracker or something on them? SCP-8659-B2: Why the fuck would I put a tracker on them? SCP-8659-B1: Because they've been disappearing all the time? And you're the kinda creep to do something like that? <SCP-8659-B2 rolls his eyes.> SCP-8659-B2: Oh fuck off. I've never done anything like that, and you know it. It's not my job to keep tabs on where everyone is, we've got you and Bordrand for that. SCP-8659-B1: Bordrand doesn't do shit aside from taking us to hot tourist destinations, and I'd like a break for once. SCP-8659-B2: The hell? Bordrand does everything for us. Gives us shelter, makes food- SCP-8659-B1: <interrupting> Yells at me whenever one of you goes missing. SCP-8659-B2: He gets mad at all of us, quit acting like you're special. SCP-8659-B1: You've never seen even half of- <SCP-8659-B3 suddenly manifests behind SCP-8659-B1, putting both hands on her shoulders.> SCP-8659-B3: Boo. SCP-8659-B1: <nearly falling over> Fuck! Damn it, Aubrey, I'm holding a baby here! SCP-8659-B3: Oh, shit, didn't realize, sorry. SCP-8659-B1: Where the hell have you been? It's way past curfew. SCP-8659-B3: Sorry, I lost track of the time, but I think you'll forgive me when you see what I brought. SCP-8659-B2: Did you get what I asked for? SCP-8659-B3: Yep, here it is. <They pull a cellphone out of their backpack.> SCP-8659-B3: An iPhone, just like you requested. Pretty sure it's the newest model. <SCP-8659-B3 throws the phone to SCP-8659-B2, who giddily runs back to Bordrand.> SCP-8659-B1: You stole that from someone, didn't you? SCP-8659-B3: <shrugging> Maybe, but I made sure to steal from the richest-looking person I could find. I wanted to get something for you, but I don't know what you even want. SCP-8659-B1: It's fine, I expected nothing. SCP-8659-B3: Well… I could braid your hair, maybe? It's been a while. SCP-8659-B1: …yeah, that would be really nice actually. <Both subjects walk over to SCP-8659-A. Drone is commanded to follow them. SCP-8659-B3 begins braiding SCP-8659-B1's hair once they sit.> <SCP-8659-A turns to look at both of them, with several of its "eyes" blinking off and on rapidly.> SCP-8659-A: Finally, you have returned. Scarlet, you need to keep a better eye on your siblings, to ensure they don't get separated too long. SCP-8659-B3: Wait, but I was the one who disappeared. That's not Scar's fault. SCP-8659-A: Yes, it is. She is the eldest and should know better than to let you wander. I hope you will do better, Scarlet. SCP-8659-B1: <mumbling> Yeah, whatever, Bordrand. <SCP-8659-B5 walks over to SCP-8659-B3, and tentatively pulls on their sleeve.> SCP-8659-B5: Hey, Aubrey, how come we don't get gifts? Ed keeps bragging about his phone- SCP-8659-B1: <quietly> That little sh-h-hmuck. SCP-8659-B5: <continuing> -and we want something! SCP-8659-B3: Sorry, I can get you something tom- SCP-8659-A: <interrupting> You are due nothing, child. Aubrey's gifts are their own decision, acquired with their own hands. To believe yourself owed the fruits of another's labor is the mindset of the greedy and corrupt. SCP-8659-B5: I- but I just wanted- SCP-8659-A: Patience, child. You will be delivered something soon, I am sure. But all you can do is hope and be thankful when that gift arrives. <SCP-8659-B5 sits back down with a huff.> SCP-8659-B5: …fine. SCP-8659-A: Good. It is time for rest, children. I will decide where we shall travel next. Have peaceful slumbers. <Subjects all go to sleep, with SCP-8659-A entering an equivalent sleep-like state. Drone is put into sleep mode until significant movement is detected. Video feed ends.> The following recording came after the drone reactivated due to detected movement. Observation Log Transcript Date: 12/02/2018 <SCP-8659-B1 is seen standing up. She checks the others, including SCP-8659-A, before walking away along the beach. Drone is instructed to follow her.> <After 3 minutes of walking, another humanoid is seen further up the beach. They wave to SCP-8659-B1, who waves back, and runs towards them. Subjects embrace upon making contact, before sitting down around a burnt-out campfire. The humanoid is female and has a symbol of the Serpent's Hand on her outfit.> SCP-8659-B1: I'm so glad to see you, Mae. Mae: Me too, Scar. I love what you've done with your hair. SCP-8659-B1: Oh, actually, Aubrey did that for me. Mae: Wow, they're really good at this stuff. <Mae touches SCP-8659-B1's hair, who doesn't mind the contact.> SCP-8659-B1: Well, as glad as I'd be to have nothing more than a personal chat with you, I'm assuming you want a response from me? Mae: Yep, sorry, but I'm here for business first. SCP-8659-B1: In that case, I'm still unsure of your offer. Bordrand will never allow it, and I don't want the others to be put in danger. Mae: Honey, they're already in danger. My group is by far the nicest one trying to find you right now. If the Book Burners get to you, they'll put you all in body bags. SCP-8659-B1: So you've told me. But we've got Bordrand… even if he and I have some disagreements. Mae: Are you really happy living with him? SCP-8659-B1: I… don't know. <There's a long pause. SCP-8659-B1 exhales sharply.> SCP-8659-B1: Alright, I'm in. What do I need to do? Mae: <smiling> Ask Bordrand to take you to his home. SCP-8659-B1: His home? How will that lead to you? Mae: It's a bit complicated, but the "portal" that we believe he's connected to based on some research into his craft has been re-wired to instead lead to the Wanderer's Library. SCP-8659-B1: Ah, you've told me about that place. Say, when we meet there, will you… show me around? <Mae laughs softly.> Mae: It'll be a date, assuming you want that. <SCP-8659-B1 blushes deeply.> SCP-8659-B1: Y-yes. Oh my god, yes, I want that. Mae: Then I'll see you there. SCP-8659-B1: Alright then. I should head back, don't wanna risk Bordrand finding out about me running off. Mae: Of course. Love you, Scar. SCP-8659-B1: I love you too, Mae. <SCP-8659-B1 and Mae kiss. SCP-8659-B1 walks back along the beach, while Mae steps through an unseen door, vanishing out of sight. The drone is instructed to continue following SCP-8659-B1.> <SCP-8659-A suddenly manifests in front of SCP-8659-B1, who falls over in surprise. The "thrumming" noise is heard once again being emitted from SCP-8659-A. All five sensors on its face are visible, each one a dark red.> SCP-8659-A: ENGAGING: SCARLET. YOU HAVE DISOBEYED MY DIRECT ORDERS. SCP-8659-B1: Fuck, Bordrand, I didn't mean to- <A loud sound akin to the scraping of metal interrupts her.> SCP-8659-A: SILENCE, GIRL. YOU HAVE HEARD MY COMMANDS. YOU SHOULD KNOW OF THE DANGERS THAT ARE OUT THERE. DO YOU BELIEVE I AM NOT TRYING TO PROTECT YOU? SCP-8659-B1: I… I know that! I just… needed to take a walk. SCP-8659-A: LIES? TO YOUR PROTECTOR? YOUR BEHAVIOR HAS GROWN UNACCEPTABLE, SCARLET. I NEED YOU TO LEARN. <SCP-8659-A lifts an arm up, preparing to strike SCP-8659-B1. SCP-8659-B1 flinches and attempts to shield herself with her arm. The "thrumming" sound quickens, before suddenly slowing down, as SCP-8659-A drops its arm to the ground. Its "eyes" have returned to their standard blue color.> SCP-8659-A: Oh no. What have I done? SCP-8659-B1: <tentatively> Bordrand? SCP-8659-A: Scarlet. I apologize. Did I… harm you? SCP-8659-B1: <sniffling> Yeah. Yeah you fucking did. SCP-8659-A: Oh… <Both SCP-8659-A and SCP-8659-B1 are silent for several seconds.> SCP-8659-B1: <hesitantly> You always do this. No matter how small my fuck up is, you scare me to the point I want to run away and never look back. <SCP-8659-A reaches out an arm, before stopping itself and sitting down.> SCP-8659-A: My child, please forgive me. I… seem to have made an error in my assessment of a proper punishment. If there is anything you want for me to make this up to you, then please tell me. <SCP-8659-B1 gets up slowly and uneasily.> SCP-8659-B1: <hesitantly> Well, I've been interested in your home. I want to know where you came from. Maybe that would, I don't know, help me understand you better? <SCP-8659-A recoils somewhat, its eyes blinking rapidly.> SCP-8659-A: Scarlet, I cannot. That is a place of war and bloodshed. It would be irresponsible for me to take you all there. SCP-8659-B1: Maybe it's calmed down. Or, maybe you're strong enough to protect us. Hell, I could protect the rest against a lot of things myself. SCP-8659-A: <tentatively> Very well. SCP-8659-B1: Really? Thank you, Bordrand. SCP-8659-A: But not without teaching you some things. You must learn to properly defend yourself. SCP-8659-B1: I'll do anything. SCP-8659-A: I understand. Rest well, Scarlet. You have a long day tomorrow. <SCP-8659-B1 and SCP-8659-A both return to where the rest of SCP-8659-B are resting, and go to sleep themselves. Video feed ends.> The Serpent's Hand is clearly involved in recruiting SCP-8659-B1 based on this video log. Negotiations between Foundation personnel and Serpent's Hand members are to be carried out so as to guarantee Foundation containment of SCP-8659. Additionally, the "thrumming" sound emitted by SCP-8659-A was once again a morse code message. The translation is as follows: WHAT PURPOSE REMAINS FOR THIS TIRED SHIELD? THESE CHILDREN ARE UNFIT TO BE LED BY A WEAPON OF WAR. THEIR DISOBEDIANCE IS UNLIKE A PROPER SOLDIER. OH, WHAT AM I TO DO, LORD SOVEREIGNS? MUST I TAKE THEM TO THAT WORLD PAINTED RED? Addendum 8659.3: After communications with the Serpent's Hand were made, an agreement was reached to temporarily cooperate due to the threat SCP-8659-A presented. However, no further information on Mae was able to be gained. Simultaneously, surveillance drones captured additional footage of SCP-8659. Observation Log Transcript Date: 12/02/2018 <SCP-8659-A is addressing all subjects of SCP-8659-B. They are all in a dense, tropical forest area, indicating a decent amount of travel.> SCP-8659-A: I have come to a decision after some… thinking last night. I've decided it's time to bring you all to my original home. <Several gasps come from the children gathered, except for SCP-8659-B1, who remains unsurprised. SCP-8659-B3 narrows their eyes at SCP-8659-B1, but doesn't say anything.> SCP-8659-B4: <excitedly> Does that mean we get to meet your family!? SCP-8659-A: I will explain that all on the way, child. For now, though, we must begin preparations. In the case of unfortunate events befalling me, I want you children to be able to survive on your own- SCP-8659-B5: <upset> W-we're losing you!? SCP-8659-B3: That's not at all what he said, Han. It's just in case. SCP-8659-A: Aubrey is correct. I have no plans on leaving any of you any time soon. <SCP-8659-B1 looks at the ground. SCP-8659-B3 continues staring at her.> SCP-8659-A: Now, as part of the preparations, I will teach Scarlet and Aubrey how to defend all of you, as I believe they are the only ones suited for such a task. SCP-8659-B2: Hey, what about me? I've got ways to protect us all. <SCP-8659-A shakes its head.> SCP-8659-A: Edward, I have evaluated your abilities and fail to see their application to combat. I will not train you. SCP-8659-B2: That's not fair, I can- SCP-8659-A: <interrupting> No, Edward. My decision is final. Go take the other children, play a game, or do whatever you need to occupy yourselves. Scarlet and Aubrey, I will now teach you the arts of combat. SCP-8659-B3: Alright, if you say so. <SCP-8659-B1 says nothing, and both her and SCP-8659-B3 approach SCP-8659-A. SCP-8659-B2 mumbles something unintelligible.> SCP-8659-B2: Whatever. Lauren, Hannah, let's go play hide and seek or something. SCP-8659-B4: But I wanna watch them train. SCP-8659-B2: <angry> You aren't doing that. It doesn't even matter. They're never gonna actually get a moment to shine, seeing as Bordrand is gonna take care of us anyways. This is just a pointless, stupid time waster. <SCP-8659-B6 runs up to SCP-8659-B2 while holding SCP-8659-B7 and tugs on his sleeve.> SCP-8659-B2: What is it, Isaac? <SCP-8659-B6 points into the trees and uses hand signs to mimic a person chasing another. He then points at both himself and SCP-8659-B2, and then at SCP-8659-B4 and SCP-8659-B5.> SCP-8659-B2: Oh, tag? Alright, fine then. Me and you against Lauren and Hannah. SCP-8659-B4: That sounds fun! Give us a one-minute head start! SCP-8659-B2: <rolling his eyes> Way too long. You get 20 seconds. SCP-8659-B4: Ugh, fine. <SCP-8659-B4 grabs SCP-8659-B5 and they both run together. SCP-8659-B2 and SCP-8659-B6 then both put their heads against trees, and SCP-8659-B2 counts to 20. They then both begin running through the forest, with SCP-8659-B6 being careful to not drop SCP-8659-B7.> <After several minutes of running, SCP-8659-B2 encounters a strange object. It appears to be a cube, with several latches, buttons, and other mechanisms adorning it. He approaches it curiously.> SCP-8659-B2: The hell is this? <SCP-8659-B6 tugs on SCP-8659-B2's sleeve again.> SCP-8659-B2: Hang on, Isaac. I need to know what this is. <SCP-8659-B6 continues trying to pull SCP-8659-B2 away.> SCP-8659-B2: <annoyed> Isaac, stop! Just leave me alone. You can catch those two yourself. <SCP-8659-B6 seems upset, but gives up on pulling SCP-8659-B2. He then runs away, wiping his face aggressively. SCP-8659-B2 then turns his attention back to the cube.> SCP-8659-B2: Alright, now what the hell are you? <SCP-8659-B2 engages with the box for 34 minutes, making numerous changes to it. The box acts as an extremely technologically advanced puzzle, as well as being anomalous in nature due to the impossible geometric shapes it creates as it is solved. Despite this, SCP-8659-B2 rarely slows down in his efforts to solve it, and eventually creates a stable sphere-like shape.> SCP-8659-B2: <surprised> Holy shit. <Immediately after solving the puzzle, several figures suddenly approach SCP-8659-B2. They all have mechanical prosthetics of various kinds, all being well-known inventions of the Church of the Broken God. A priest stands at the front, and addresses SCP-8659-B2> Priest: Greetings, child. <SCP-8659-B2 backs away from the figures, startled, and attempts to reach for something, but finds nothing within reach.> SCP-8659-B2: <defensive> Who the hell are you guys!? Priest: At ease, child. We are followers of Robert Bumaro, of the Church of the Broken God. We are immensely impressed by the method you used to solve that Cage. SCP-8659-B2: Ok, slow down, you're throwing a lot of words at me. Priest: Of course. Cages are devices used by the Church to store extremely valuable items or information. SCP-8659-B2: Then why'd you let me open one? Don't you want nobody else to be able to? Priest: <nodding> Correct. However, you opening it should have been impossible. Normally, a team of 6 members with specific enhancements would take 12 hours to open one of those. You took 34 minutes. SCP-8659-B2: <surprised> Huh, I… guess that's cool. But who even are you? Priest: Followers of the Grand Architect, Mekhane. He is a god that will bring about an era of perfection should we repair him, as foretold by Robert Bumaro. SCP-8659-B2: <confused> Bumaro? Priest: The founder of our church, and an unparalleled master of the technological arts. <The priest then smiles, and leans closer to SCP-8659-B2.> Priest: Unless you can match him. SCP-8659-B2: <overwhelmed> This is a lot to take in. But I think I'm picking up that you think I'm special and can help with your grand purpose? Priest: If you're able to open a cage with no enhancements 24 times faster than standard procedure, then there's no reason to doubt that you could greatly benefit our cause. SCP-8659-B2: <hesitantly> This… this isn't a ruse right? You're not gonna suddenly put me in a bag and do experiments on me, are you? Priest: <chuckling> My child, I believe you're mistaking us for the Foundation. They would certainly do those things to you. <sighing> No, we can grant you a proper home, for you and your siblings. SCP-8659-B2: And Bordrand? <The Priest appears confused for a second, not recognizing the name.> SCP-8659-B2: Oh, uh, our big robot… friend. Priest: Ah. The machine you travel with… we believe it to be an artifact of our god. Therefore, we have the means to convince him to work with us. SCP-8659-B2: <thoughtful> This is… a lot to take in. Priest: We understand, child. We shall give you time to consider our offering. However, you may have less time than you think. A group worse than all others for you is searching for you as we speak. SCP-8659-B2: Seriously? Who are they? Priest: The Global- <The Priest is cut off by the sound of an explosion. SCP-8659-B4 through B7 all appear, with SCP-8659-B7 being held by SCP-8659-B6. They are all panicked.> SCP-8659-B2: Lauren, Hannah, Isaac, what's going on!? Priest: They're already here, we must take you to- SCP-8659-B2: <interrupting> I'm not going anywhere without Aubrey and Scarlet. I need to find them. <The Priest looks at SCP-8659-B2 in frustration, his hand gripping his staff tightly. He then looks down and sighs.> Priest: Very well. Our presence here must not be detected - however, we still have a means of assisting you. <The Priest gives SCP-8659-B2 a pair of gauntlets. The gauntlets are made of an unidentified, anomalous metal, and give off a light, blue glow.> Priest: These will help you fend off the coming enemies. SCP-8659-B2: How- Priest: <interrupting> I'm not high enough ranking to know how to use them, but we assume you'll be able to figure it out. We must flee now. I hope we'll meet again, Edward. SCP-8659-B2: Thank you. <The Priest, along with all other members, disappears. SCP-8659-B2 puts on the gauntlets and focuses intently on them.> SCP-8659-B2: Alright, kids, let's go save the others. Prior to that incident, a second surveillance drone was deployed due to the separation of SCP-8659 into two groups. Observation Log Transcript Date: 12/02/2018 <SCP-8659-A, SCP-8659-B1, and SCP-8659-B3 are all in a large clearing in a forest. SCP-8659-B1 is using her abilities to create swarms of flame around SCP-8659-A. SCP-8659-B3 is armed with an unidentified rifle, provided by SCP-8659-A, and teleports frequently, taking surprise shots at SCP-8659-A from behind. Despite their combined effort, SCP-8659-A is completely unharmed by their attacks.> SCP-8659-B1: <frustrated> God damn it! <SCP-8659-A approaches SCP-8659-B1 while she attempts to burn it. SCP-8659-A grabs SCP-8659-B1 around the waist and lifts her off the ground.> SCP-8659-A: Focus your flames, child. They won't burn anything if you throw them in a blind rage. SCP-8659-B1: Well, what if I don't want to hurt you? <The parts of SCP-8659-A that were partially melted reform back into their original shape, completely intact.> SCP-8659-A: I am capable of repairing my own body, granted my core is intact. You have nothing to fear. SCP-8659-B1: Still- <SCP-8659-B3 suddenly appears behind SCP-8659-A's hand, and fires a round into it, causing it to release SCP-8659-B1, who falls to the ground.> SCP-8659-A: <impressed> Excellent, Aubrey. You saved a teammate efficiently, and now you both would have been able to retaliate against me. You both seem tired, so I'll give you a break for now. Rest up, we shall resume later. <SCP-8659-A walks away, disappearing into the forest. The thrumming is heard as it leaves. SCP-8659-B3 then offers a hand to SCP-8659-B1, who accepts it and stands up.> SCP-8659-B1: Thanks, Aubrey. Gah, this fucking sucks. <They both walk to the nearest tree while talking.> SCP-8659-B3: I've got a hell of an easy job compared to you. Teleport behind a guy, boom, he's dead. Seems he expects you to always be up front and center. SCP-8659-B1: Why is it always on me to protect all of you? SCP-8659-B3: <sympathetic> I bet that's exhausting. <They both sit in silence for a second. SCP-8659-B3 then speaks up, slowly.> SCP-8659-B3: Sooo… why'd you ask him to take us to his home? SCP-8659-B1: <shocked> Wha- how'd you guess that? SCP-8659-B3: You disappeared last night. SCP-8659-B1: <suspicious> Did you… see where I went? SCP-8659-B3: <chuckling> Chill, Scar. I didn't follow you. SCP-8659-B1: Damn it, Aubrey. You always know too much. SCP-8659-B3: I was given the perfect ability to eavesdrop, it's not on me that I use it. <They once again sit in silence, until SCP-8659-B1 speaks up hesitantly.> SCP-8659-B1: Listen, Aubrey, the reason I asked him was because… well, first promise you won't say this to anyone else, alright? SCP-8659-B3: <incredulous> C'mon, Scar, it can't be that serious. SCP-8659-B1: Well I am. Tell nobody about this. SCP-8659-B3: Fine, you have my vow of secrecy. SCP-8659-B1: Alright. I… think I want to escape. SCP-8659-B3: Escape? SCP-8659-B1: <agitated> Yeah, from… this. Bordrand. I-it's not that I don't love you guys, it's just that this has been stressing me the hell out, and I've had no time to live for myself, and there's so much going on, and- SCP-8659-B3: <interrupting, concerned> Whoa, there. Slow down. This has really been eating away at you, huh? SCP-8659-B1: Y-yeah. I… didn't know who to tell. You seemed like the only one who might take it well. SCP-8659-B3: <reassuring> Well, you're in luck. I kinda get it. You've been run ragged, and we can't force you to keep going. I can see why you want to stop. SCP-8659-B1: Really? I t-thought you would tell me I was stupid, and that I have to stay for you or something. SCP-8659-B3: Nah, I think me and Edward can pick up where you leave things off. But… I am concerned about one thing. SCP-8659-B1: What's that? SCP-8659-B3: How will we see you again, if you do run away? SCP-8659-B1: …I don't know. If I run, I'll never be able to look at Bordrand again. He'd kill me, and I don't know how literally. SCP-8659-B3: We need a home. That's the problem. A place we can all meet up, where we won't have to raise each other, where Bordrand can relax and know we're safe. SCP-8659-B1: <nodding> I think I know how we can get that. SCP-8659-B3: How? All of the groups we've met have tried to take us forcefully. Only those weird guys with the, like, logo with the arrows pointing in a circle tried to actually talk to us. SCP-8659-B1: No! The J- I mean, the Foundation will treat us like lab rats. We can't trust them. SCP-8659-B3: You seem awfully sure. Like someone fed those words to you. <SCP-8659-B1 suddenly steps towards SCP-8659-B3, a flame in her hand.> SCP-8659-B1: Aubrey, you're gonna tell me exactly how much you know right now. SCP-8659-B3: Jesus- Scar, fucking chill! What the fuck are you doing!? SCP-8659-B1: You're not telling me everything. Tell me absolutely everything you know about last night, right fucking now. SCP-8659-B3: Damn it, Aubrey. Are you trying to take your anger out on me? Is it that time of the month? SCP-8659-B1: SHUT THE FUCK UP! Don't mock me! Just tell me what you fucking saw! SCP-8659-B3: That's clearly not the main issue at hand, idiot! SCP-8659-B1: You- <An explosion is heard, and SCP-8659-A suddenly falls near SCP-8659-B1 and SCP-8659-B3. It is heavily damaged, and is inactive, with a large force barrier surrounding it.> <On top of SCP-8659-A, a GOC Strike Team stands over it. All seven members are wearing White Suits1.> Strike Team Commander: LTE-9418-Bordrand is incapacitated. As the reports suggested, it seems impervious to permanent harm, and will require much stronger firepower to kill, over. <A member of the Strike Team points over to SCP-8659-B1 and SCP-8659-B3, and brings the Commander's attention to them.> Strike Team Commander: You, are you two some of the children that this machine was escorting? SCP-8659-B1: W-what the hell did you do to Bordrand!? Strike Team Commander: Both of you, surrender now, or we will use force. SCP-8659-B1: Go to hell! <SCP-8659-B1 conjures fire around her, while SCP-8659-B3 disappears, saying something unintelligible to SCP-8659-B1. The Strike Team all turn invisible, and begin firing rounds into SCP-8659-B1, who uses physical flames to block them.> <The drone at this point is damaged by the flames created by SCP-8659-B1, and is destroyed. Video feed ends.> IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO EASY THEIR SUITS WERE RUDIMENTARY, THEIR METHODS FLAWED HAD I SO WISHED, I COULD HAVE CRUSHED THEM UNDERFOOT BUT I AM NO WEAPON ANYMORE KING SEEKERS, IF YOU YET LIVE, THEN KNOW THIS: I AM FREE OF YOU NOW, FOREVER AND ALWAYS After the appearance of GOC forces, Mobile Task Forces were deployed in the hopes of retrieving SCP-8659-B and reducing damage. While they were being deployed, the surveillance drone observing SCP-8659-B2 collected this footage. Observation Log Transcript Date: 12/02/2018 <SCP-8659-B2 escorts SCP-8659-B4 through -B7 to an undergrowth, and motions for them to enter it.> SCP-8659-B2: All of you hide here. Things are about to get bad. I'm gonna find Aubrey and Scarlet, and then we'll all get out of here. SCP-8659-B5: What about Bordrand? SCP-8659-B2: He's invincible. I'm sure nothing will be able to hurt him. <SCP-8659-B6 pulls on SCP-8659-B2's sleeve, and points to SCP-8659-B7.> SCP-8659-B2: Oh, yeah, make sure Chloe stays calm. It'll get dangerous if she freaks out. <SCP-8659-B6 makes several quick motions, but SCP-8659-B2 doesn't respond.> SCP-8659-B2: Alright, I'm gonna move. Stay hidden, don't let anyone find you. Lauren, make a swarm of bugs attack people if they find you. Hannah, try to stay calm, and don't let a storm start. SCP-8659-B5: O-ok. <SCP-8659-B2 then runs away. While running, he attempts to put on the gauntlets, but can't fit them on.> SCP-8659-B2: Damn it! How do these things work? <SCP-8659-B3 suddenly manifests directly in front of SCP-8659-B2.> SCP-8659-B3: Ed! SCP-8659-B2: Oh, Aubrey, thank god! <They both embrace each other quickly, and then begin running while talking.> SCP-8659-B2: What's the situation? I heard an explosion. Is Scarlet safe? SCP-8659-B3: These guys, one of the organizations looking for us, suddenly appeared. They somehow beat Bordrand. They had these crazy suits, they could go fucking invisible, and run super fast, and- SCP-8659-B2: Wait, they beat Bordrand? SCP-8659-B3: Yeah, he was fucked up. Scarlet is fighting them off right now, but we've gotta go help her. SCP-8659-B2: Holy shit, this is bad. Ok, I got these gauntlets, they might- SCP-8659-B3: Where the hell did you get those? They look like some sci-fi shit. SCP-8659-B2: Look, that doesn't matter right now. I just think they'll help. SCP-8659-B3: Where are the other kids? SCP-8659-B2: I found a hiding spot for them, they should be- SCP-8659-B3: You left them alone!? SCP-8659-B2: Yeah? The fuck was I supposed to do? Take them to a warzone? SCP-8659-B3: Shit, Chloe could cause chaos. What if those guys find them? SCP-8659-B2: We just need to find them first. Speaking of… <They both duck under a log, and look ahead. A large portion of the surroundings are currently on fire, and smoke fills the air. SCP-8659-B1 is standing in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by fire, and shooting flames out all around her. The flames around her are repeatedly struck by gunfire.> SCP-8659-B2: Fuck! The hell is going on!? SCP-8659-B3: There are these guys, they've got fucking invisibility suits or some shit. We need to shake them off us. SCP-8659-B2: Ok, you support Scarlet, I just need a second to figure this shit out. SCP-8659-B1: Shit! <A bullet grazes SCP-8659-B1's thigh, causing blood to pool down her left leg. She appears extremely fatigued, and slows down significantly.> SCP-8659-B3: <breathing in, muttering> Wait for a shot. Look where they're shooting from. <After another gunshot sound, SCP-8659-B3 quickly fires several rounds toward the area the sound came from. A GOC agent in a white suit suddenly appears, and falls to the ground, presumed dead.> SCP-8659-B3: Oh fuck. Strike Team Commander: Agent Dudley is down! Requesting back up, the other katies seem to have come back. <SCP-8659-B3 grabs SCP-8659-B2 and they both teleport right next to SCP-8659-B1.> SCP-8659-B2: The fuck? Aubrey, how'd you teleport me? SCP-8659-B3: No clue, let's worry about it later. SCP-8659-B1: You two, where are the others? Are they safe? SCP-8659-B2: Safer than right here. I think I've almost got this thing figured out. Get me to that guy in the suit over there, maybe there's a counter to their invisibility. <SCP-8659-B1 begins slowly moving over to the dead Strike Team Agent. SCP-8659-B2 is able to fully equip the gauntlets at this point, and manages to fire several energy blasts out with them.> SCP-8659-B2: Holy shit! SCP-8659-B1: The hell are those things? SCP-8659-B2: I'll tell you later! Cover me while I figure out how this suit works. <The sound of gunfire picks back up, and SCP-8659-B1 focuses on creating a defensive barrier of fire. SCP-8659-B3 sends returning shots, but fails to hit any.> SCP-8659-B3: They're being more cautious, I can't do shit to them! SCP-8659-B2: <muttering> Is it a signal they send out? Something to disrupt our senses of perception? <SCP-8659-B1 is struck in the shoulder, and momentarily loses focus on the barrier. In that time, SCP-8659-B3 is shot in the leg, and falls over.> SCP-8659-B3: Fuck! SCP-8659-B1: Ed, you better figure that shit out! SCP-8659-B2: I've got it! <SCP-8659-B2 configures several dials in the gauntlets, and then emits a bright light. All remaining Strike Team agents become fully visible in the light. All agents take cover behind trees.> Strike Team Commander: Report, our invisibility has seemingly been tampered with. Additionally, targets possess firepower strong enough to punch through our White Suits. Requesting permission to retreat with LTE-9418-Bordrand. <There is a brief pause.> Strike Team Commander: Permission granted! Let's get the hell out of here! <The Strike Team fully retreats, while a helicopter appears with SCP-8659-A hooked up beneath it. All agents grab onto a rope that is attached, and the helicopter takes off.> SCP-8659-B1: Fuck! Give Bordrand back assholes! <SCP-8659-B1 attempts to create more flames, but suddenly stops and falls over, coughing profusely.> SCP-8659-B3: Guess you're at your limit, Scar. I'll get the kids, and then get us all out of here. We'll figure out our next move once we're all safe. SCP-8659-B2: I think I can copy that invisibility with these things, just give me a second. SCP-8659-B1: <weakly> Seriously, those things are stupidly strong, who the hell gave them to you? SCP-8659-B2: A… church? My head is foggy, I need to think it over. <SCP-8659-B3 disappears, and then SCP-8659-B2 turns towards the drone.> SCP-8659-B2: Oh, were you invisible too? <He raises a hand towards it.> SCP-8659-B2: Too bad. <There is a flash of light, and the feed ends.> Simultaneously, Mobile Task Forces deployed in the area captured footage shown below. Observation Log Transcript Date: 12/02/2018 <The footage is captured in Agent Kyle Douglas' body camera. He is running through a forest, followed by his fellow task force members, Agent Kayna Anderson and Agent Adam Byars. The weather is extremely erratic, large swarms of insects constantly pass by, and some small objects such as pebbles begin floating upwards.> Douglas: Shit, is this an apocalypse? Everyone, stay close to me, we don't wanna get split up in this. Anderson: Roger! Byars: Sir, I think I see some people in that undergrowth! They look unarmed, maybe they're civilians? Douglas: Let's move towards them, but be cautious. I'll take the lead. <The team moves forwards, coming across an undergrowth, with SCP-8659-B4 through B7 all being found inside. SCP-8659-B6 is holding SCP-8659-B7, who is crying profusely. SCP-8659-B6 seems to be attempting to calm her down.> Douglas: Shit, kids! Hey, this place isn't safe! We're gonna get you out of here! SCP-8659-B4: Y-you're the bad men. Here to kidnap us, aren't you? Douglas: No, we're not - we will give you shelter and get you back home. Unless- Anderson: <whispering> Sir, I think those kids are the Skips we're after. Douglas: <whispering> Even if they are, they're kids. We've gotta get them somewhere safe. <Suddenly, a second group with flashlights appears through the trees. They are a squad wearing standard GOC task force gear. They raise their weapons towards Agent Douglas.> Douglas: Fuck, GOC! You two, get the hell out of here! Byars: Sir- <Gunfire erupts from the other group. Agents Anderson and Byars both run away, taking cover behind various trees. Agent Douglas throws a flash bang, but is struck in the chest by gunfire.> Douglas: Shit! <The flash bang emits a bright light, but the task force were all able to cover their eyes. They approach Agent Douglas. Insects swarm around the squad, but are incapable of causing any harm to them. SCP-8659-B5 then steps out from the undergrowth.> SCP-8659-B5: LEAVE US ALONE! <As she screams, several bolts of lightning land on the GOC squad, lighting the trees and plants around them on fire. Several of them appear stunned, but they are all unharmed as they retreat through the trees.> SCP-8659-B5: YEAH! THAT'S RIGHT! WE'RE STRONGER THAN YOU, STUPID KIDNAPPERS! Douglas: <coughing> Heh, that was a damn good show, kid. SCP-8659-B4: Uh, s-sir, you seem hurt. Are you gonna be ok? Douglas: Oh, sure. I've been hit by much worse than this. <Agent Douglas attempts to stand up, but quickly falls back down, grunting in pain. SCP-8659-B4 and SCP-8659-B5 both stand back, visibly frightened.> Douglas: Well, shit. Guess my luck was gonna run out eventually. <SCP-8659-B3 suddenly appears in front of Agent Douglas, facing the opposite direction.> SCP-8659-B3: Kids! We've gotta go! Follow me, I know where to go. <They turn around, and notice Agent Douglas.> SCP-8659-B3: Oh, fuck, you got hit bad. You're Foundation? Douglas: Y-yeah. Was trying to help these kids get away. You their big sibling? SCP-8659-B3: Yeah, one of them. Douglas: Good, good. Look, I don't got long, so listen very carefully. The Foundation is your best bet to be safe. I know other groups might've told you we're cruel, but they'll weaponize you. The Foundation is the only place you'll really be safe. SCP-8659-B3: I hope so. Sir, that wound keeps getting worse, are you- Douglas: Take the young'ins away from me. They don't deserve to see a soldier die. Too much trauma at a young age, eh? SCP-8659-B3: If that's what you want. <SCP-8659-B6 suddenly steps up to Agent Douglas, and hands SCP-8659-B7 over to SCP-8659-B3. He is crying aggressively, and kneels down in front of Agent Douglas.> Douglas: Kid, don't, there's nothing you can- <SCP-8659-B6 places his hands on Douglas' wound, causing him to yell out in pain.> SCP-8659-B3: Isaac! The hell are you- <SCP-8659-B3 attempts to pull SCP-8659-B6 away, but is telekinetically pushed away, falling gently onto the ground several feet away. SCP-8659-B6 then focuses on the wound, as it begins to close.> Douglas: Oh, lord, that feels weird. The hell are you- <Agent Douglas gasps, and when SCP-8659-B6 steps away, the wound, along with all the blood, has disappeared.> Douglas: You - oh my god. You saved my life. SCP-8659-B3: Isaac, I didn't know you could do that. That was incredible. <SCP-8659-B6 is still crying, but smiles. The skies clear out, and the storm fades away.> Douglas: I owe you one. I have to get out of here. Thank you. SCP-8659-B3: Thank you, sir, for protecting them. I'll think about your words from earlier. Goodbye. <SCP-8659-B3 gathers all of the other children around them, and they all suddenly disappear. Video feed ends.> Addendum 8659.4: Following the incident, Foundation efforts to secure SCP-8659 were dramatically increased. However, due to the aggressive presence of other GoIs, direct confrontation was difficult. Therefore, negotiations and persuasion of SCP-8659-B to willingly join the Foundation were decided to be the best route for containment. Simultaneously, a search for SCP-8659-A was initiated due to the risk that it may be destroyed by the GOC. On December 5th, 2018, a signal in morse code was discovered to be emitted from a GOC Decommission Base. Based on the contents of the message, and the fact it was from a GOC operated location, it was concluded to belong to SCP-8659-A. The message below was repeated every time it ended, and was presumed to be an automatic response to the defensive mode SCP-8659-A went into. ORDER PURPOSE A VACANT THRONE A COMMON ENEMY THE CREATORS DEMANDED MUCH FAILURE WAS MET WITH PUNISHMENT A PERFECT SYSTEM, TO BREED PERFECT WEAPONS I WAS A SLAVE TO THEIR DEMANDS I DON'T WANT TO GO BACK CHILDREN, I PRAY YOU DON'T FIND ME I'VE FOUND CLOSURE, MY OLD SELF ALREADY BURIED I HEAR THEIR COMMANDS, AND THEY TELL ME TO FIGHT AND MAIM AND KILL AND I FEAR THAT IF YOU FIND ME, I WILL LISTEN At this point, observations of SCP-8659-B became extremely difficult, due to SCP-8659-B2's ability to detect invisibility and SCP-8659-B1's destructive powers. Additionally, communications with the Serpent's Hand broke down due to the threat of SCP-8659-A no longer being present. Addendum 8659.5: After locating the Decommission Base that SCP-8659-A was being held at, a Foundation microdrone was sent in to scout out the location. Ordinarily, motion detectors around the base should've been able to detect the drone, but it's believed that the presence of SCP-8659-A was somehow interfering with them in some way, as they didn't trigger when the drone passed through. The following footage was recovered from the drone. Observation Log Transcript Date: 12/07/2018 <The microdrone passes through the Decommission Base, observing a large amount of machinery designed for destroying anomalous objects. After thrumming noises emerge from a large room in the center, the drone is sent in, where SCP-8659-A is discovered to be held up by a large number of bindings made from various steel alloys, with its barrier still holding.> <Upon landing onto the barrier, the drone is suddenly pulled through, and brief activity is detected from SCP-8659-A. There is a period of silence, before a voice is heard being transmitted to the drone.> SCP-8659-A: Have I connected? <The operator of the drone speaks into the microphone.> Operative: Yes, we can hear you. SCP-8659-A: Which faction does this drone hail from? Operative: This is the SCP Foundation. We're- SCP-8659-A: I know of your group. The King Seekers spoke of you. You see containment and research of the anomalous as the ultimate goal. Operative: Correct. We also don't wish to see the anomalous get destroyed, so we're trying to save you. SCP-8659-A: You will not save me. This base shall be my final resting place. So long as the children do not find me, there is no further reason for me to live. Operative: Why are you so protective of those children? SCP-8659-A: They are… a second chance for me. The possibility for me to go against my code. To prove that the programming of the King Seekers is not absolute. Operative: What code are you going against that involves the children? SCP-8659-A: The Code of Warriors. For the models like myself, we were not designed to embrace anything aside from efficiency in battle and carrying out the King's Will. Operative: Yet you're able to go against this code? SCP-8659-A: I… hope. I think I have subverted it, but I haven't directly gone against it. I'm worried… that all this time I've still been carrying out the King's Will without realizing. Operative: Who are the King Seekers? And who is the King you keep mentioning? SCP-8659-A: Who they are matters no longer, as they have been erased. Destroyed. Annihilated. They are nothing but a distant memory in my database. SCP-8659-A: As for the King, well… we still haven't found him. We had him once, but he left. The only thing he left behind was his Will. Operative: Can you describe this Will? SCP-8659-A: It came in four parts. "Be true to thyself, for the world will lie. Trust none apart from thy own comrades, for they are the only followers of the Will. Seek out those that could follow the Will, and mold them into Perfect Shields. Find your King, and put him on The Throne." <There is a brief moment of silence.> SCP-8659-A: Oh, dear King, no. Operative: Bordrand, what's the issue? SCP-8659-A: Your Highness, you had me on a leash from the start, didn't you? That was the only reason I protected those children. Operative: What do you mean? SCP-8659-A: They mustn't find me. I can't- <SCP-8659-A suddenly twitches in place, the barrier blinking rapidly. It then returns to a default state.> Operative: Bordrand? SCP-8659-A: "Be true to thyself, for the world will lie. Trust none apart from thy own comrades, for they are the only followers of the Will. Seek out those that could follow the Will, and mold them into Perfect Shields. Find your King, and put him on The Throne." <SCP-8659-A repeated these words for an indefinite amount of time, and remained unresponsive to all attempts to interact with it. Communications with it were ceased as a result of this. Video feed ends.> In order to attempt communications with SCP-8659-B, Agent Douglas was sent out in an area with anomalous weather deviations, due to his believed status as an amicable person to SCP-8659-B. Observation Log Transcript Date: 12/07/2018 <Agent Douglas is walking along a beach, using binoculars to try and search for SCP-8659-B. A click is heard behind him, and he turns around to see SCP-8659-B3 pointing an anomalous firearm at him. They lower it upon recognizing Douglas.> SCP-8659-B3: You're the agent. From before. Douglas: Indeed I am. Do you have a minute? SCP-8659-B3: <shrugging> Sure, I've been disappearing for the other kids a lot. They won't notice. <Agent Douglas takes a seat on the sand, and SCP-8659-B3 follows suit.> SCP-8659-B3: Sooo… how's work been treating ya? Douglas: <laughing softly> A bit rough. Lots of analytics on my chest. SCP-8659-B3: Yeah, I bet. <pause> Sorry, I'm awful at small talk, and I doubt you're here to catch up on things. Douglas: Yeah, sorry, but we've gotta talk. You guys are somehow headed right for where your robot is being held, and we're worried it's a death trap. SCP-8659-B3: I get the concern, but I think we're ready. We fought those guys off before, and we're better now, so- Douglas: Kid, the group you fought off was nothing. You haven't seen their real heavy hitters. I came across a U-HEC2 once, and it was a goddamn nightmare. SCP-8659-B3: <sighing> You're probably right, but what choice have we got? Someone's gonna snatch us eventually. At least we have a choice to try and get Bordrand back. Douglas: Can I ask a few questions? They shouldn't take long. SCP-8659-B3: Yeah, go ahead. Douglas: How did you meet the robot, "Bordrand" as you call him? SCP-8659-B3: Right after Chloe was born, about two years ago, both our parents suddenly died out of nowhere. No clue what did it, but they were gone just like that. SCP-8659-B3: We were from a really small town. Maybe 100 people. We already had been getting weird looks from the other townspeople. They were a superstitious bunch. Things burned around Scarlet so often. Ed could make anything he set his mind to, and I would show up wherever I damn well pleased. SCP-8659-B3: 'Course, that was all our powers at work. We didn't know what we were doing, we were just fucking around. When our parents died, everyone blamed us. There was a frenzy. <choking> People I thought I loved called me a freak and pushed me away. I was scared. Douglas: I'm so sorry you went through that. SCP-8659-B3: <continuing> Scarlet took the brunt of the words. She would stand up for us like a mother fucker. But I think it hurt her a lot more than she would admit. Edward tried, but he was a quiet kid and was always ignored compared to me and Scar. SCP-8659-B3: Then a drunk guy hit Scar across the face. It was nasty, but nothing compared to her revenge. She set the fucker on fire, and god, I can still hear his screams. That's when Bordrand showed up. SCP-8659-B3: Like a ghost, he was just there all of a sudden. He took us, saying we weren't safe, and that we were "too important to leave alone." We believed him, and he'd been our caretaker ever since. Douglas: …Wow. SCP-8659-B3: Yeah, sorry, heavy shit. Douglas: To think that happened to a bunch of kids… SCP-8659-B3: We always had each other, and that's why I'm scared I might lose them. Douglas: Why would you lose them? SCP-8659-B3: Ed and Scar… they've been fighting hard lately. Scarlet seems convinced the Serpent's Hand will be our best bet, while Ed keeps talking about this church. Frankly, they're both immature fucks. I've spied on Scarlet during her nightly walk-aways, and she's been meeting with this girl from the Serpent's Hand. I can tell they have the hots for each other. And Ed only likes the Church 'cause they've been playing to his ego. Neither of them give a shit about the rest of us, and I want to scream. Douglas: What about the younger ones? SCP-8659-B3: They're indecisive. They'll follow whoever's more convincing. I’m just tired. I don’t know how to get their heads out of their asses. Douglas: I wish I could help ya, but talking to them is the only way to get through. SCP-8659-B3: I know… Douglas: How are you doing without Bordrand? SCP-8659-B3: We’ve been getting by. We have enough food, and honestly he was never that talkative. Though, being without him feels like losing a layer of protection. Douglas: Listen, we managed to contact him, but… it seems like he doesn't want you to find him. SCP-8659-B3: <shrugging> What are we supposed to do? He's our caretaker, and we love him. Or, at least, I think we all do. Douglas: We think he might regret the way he treated you all. Apparently, his code might have led him to trying to make you all into "Perfect Shields." SCP-8659-B3: <confused> Perfect Shields? Douglas: Soldiers, for whatever purpose he was originally built for. SCP-8659-B3: …that would make a lot of sense. He was always super hard on Scarlet more than anyone else, and I'd wager she's the strongest and most protective of all of us. Douglas: So what will you do? SCP-8659-B3: I still wanna save him. If he regrets it, then he'll just have to get over it. Everything will work out for all of us, I swear it. Douglas: <sighing> I don't have faith he can change. But the Foundation's hands are tied. They don't wanna risk a direct fight with the GOC, and with how many others are rearing their heads around you guys, trying to get you all would spark a fight that we can't win. Douglas: Listen, contact us when you get your siblings on your side. This phone will let you do it. I promise the Foundation will welcome you with open arms. <He hands them a small phone.> SCP-8659-B3: Alright, then… Douglas: Kyle. The name’s Kyle. SCP-8659-B3: Alright. See you around Kyle. And… thanks, for all the help. Douglas: It was the least I could do. <SCP-8659-B3 disappears. Video feed ends.> Addendum 8659.6: On December 10, 2018, SCP-8659-B arrived at the GOC Decommission Base that SCP-8659-A was being held at. The following recording was taken by SCP-8659-B3 before their raid, and sent to Foundation intelligence. Observation Log Transcript Date: 12/10/2018 <All subjects of SCP-8659-B are gathered around a small fire. The Decommission Base is seen in the background. They are all eating s'mores.> SCP-8659-B3: Alright, we've got our plan. Kids, do you all know where you'll go once we head in? <SCP-8659-B4 cautiously raises a hand.> SCP-8659-B3: Go ahead. SCP-8659-B4: Um, you said to go to the river down over there. <She points to the northern side of the base, where a thin river runs.> SCP-8659-B4: And then wait for you to get back, right? SCP-8659-B3: Perfect. We'll get there with Bordrand, and we'll go back to normal. SCP-8659-B2: Aubrey, I don't like this. They've got these weird robot things on patrol. Didn't that one guy mention something called a U-HEC? SCP-8659-B3: Yeah, but we don't have to fight them. We just have to get Bordrand. SCP-8659-B1: Why exactly do we need him? <They all turn to look at SCP-8659-B1, who stares into the fire while eating a s'more.> SCP-8659-B3: Scar, c'mon. He's family to us too. SCP-8659-B1: He could've fought those guys before. If we could fend them off, he could've slaughtered them if he really wanted to. I think he wanted to get caught. SCP-8659-B2: Scarlet, use your brain. They could've caught him off guard, and we know they want to kill him. If he was ok with this, then why would he have that barrier that makes him invincible? SCP-8659-B1: <shrugging> Could just be an automatic thing. They'll find a way around it. I think this is too dangerous. SCP-8659-B2: You only thought to bring it up now that we're already here? Get a grip. He wasn't very nice to you, but he still loves you. We'll get him out, make amends, and then figure out what to do from there. SCP-8659-B3: Speaking of, what do we do after this? SCP-8659-B2: Well, you already know my answer to that. SCP-8659-B5: Ed, I didn't like that Priest guy. He was creepy. Can we please not go with them? SCP-8659-B2: <glaring> Oh, so because they're creepy they're bad? I won't deny they're off-putting, but I think they really could take care of us. SCP-8659-B3: Stop. Ed, we need to be logical about this. We need to do what's best for everyone. SCP-8659-B2: <standing up> And I think they're the best choice! They've saved our skin with the tech they gave me, and they have to be better than any other choice. SCP-8659-B1: I've heard they're a kind of cult for metal. They'd make you into a cyborg. SCP-8659-B2: <walking over> Oh, so you're suddenly the super knowledgeable one huh? Where'd you get that info? SCP-8659-B3: Ed, back off. Guys, we can do this later- SCP-8659-B2: No, I really wanna know where Scar's been sneaking off. Actually, I wanna know where you've both been going. <There is a moment of silence. The younger siblings stare in fear while the older ones glare at each other.> SCP-8659-B3: Look, as soon as we get Bordrand back, we'll have all the time we need to think of what to do. SCP-8659-B1: He'll get in the way. He'll keep us attached at the hip and never let us out of sight. SCP-8659-B2: Maybe I don't wanna go back. I'm sick of being overlooked all the time. SCP-8659-B3: Dude, please stop, this isn't helping anyone! SCP-8659-B2: Neither is this stupid plan! We're getting into a mess we don't understand, and for what!? That piece of- <SCP-8659-B2 suddenly becomes inaudible, and all sound cuts. SCP-8659-B6 is holding his ears to his head, tears welling up in his eyes. SCP-8659-B3 embraces him, and sound slowly returns.> SCP-8659-B3: We shouldn't be at each other's throats over this. We have our own problems, but separating isn't the solution. Sure, Bordrand wasn't the best parent, but he's all we've got. He- he's the only one that can take care of us. We can sort this all out together, can't we? <SCP-8659-B2 looks at the base, still glaring, but he nods his head. SCP-8659-B1 looks down, holding SCP-8659-B7 tightly.> SCP-8659-B3: Alright. No point in waiting any longer. Let's do this. <SCP-8659-B1 and B2 nod. SCP-8659-B1 hands SCP-8659-B7 to SCP-8659-B4. She embraces the younger siblings, and whispers something unintelligible. SCP-8659-B1, B2, and B3 all head down the hill towards the base. Footage ends.> The three of them collectively stormed the facility, with SCP-8659-B1 taking the main focus and firepower, while SCP-8659-B2 attempted to interfere with the technology the GOC was using, and SCP-8659-B3 took out priority targets quickly. Despite their initial success, the group was quickly overwhelmed once Orange Suit units were deployed by the GOC. They were incapacitated in the same room SCP-8659-A was being held in. During the chaos, this footage was able to be extracted from on-site security cameras. Observation Log Transcript Date: 12/10/2018 <SCP-8659-B1, B2, and B3 are all writhing on the ground in pain, covering their ears. SCP-8659-B2 is wearing a suit in the same style as his gauntlets. Three Mark III Orange Suits stand over them, emitting a banshee shriek, as well as several GOC infantrymen. SCP-8659-A is unmoving, still in its barrier. It continues reciting the King's Will.> SCP-8659-B3: Gah… fuck… make it stop! SCP-8659-B1: G-get up… worthless piece of… of shit. <SCP-8659-B2 suddenly stands up and runs, moving extremely quickly. His suit covers his ears from the banshee shriek.> Infantry Commander: Fuck, is that a White Suit? Get him! <The Orange Suits manage to catch up to SCP-8659-B2, and attempt to restrain him.> SCP-8659-B2: Bordrand! Wake the fuck up! We need you! <SCP-8659-A remains unmoving, but its barrier begins rapidly blinking in morse code. Slowing the footage down reveals the text "Hope. Shield. Prosper. Death. Wander. New. Live. Die."> <During the moment when the Orange Suits move away, SCP-8659-B3 teleports away, and SCP-8659-B1 stands up. She screams, and a vortex of flames surround her, incinerating nearby infantrymen.> SCP-8659-A: …Ho- SCP-8659-B2: Yes! Wake up! Infantry Commander: Calling all units! LTE-9418-Bordrand is moving! <SCP-8659-A suddenly drops, and the bindings holding it completely disappear. The barrier around it turns into a bright red color, along with its "eyes," and its voice drops several octaves, taking on more robotic inflections.> SCP-8659-A: HOSTILITIES DETECTED. THE KING'S WILL BE DONE. ACTIVATING COMBAT MODE. <SCP-8659-A moves forward, too quickly for the camera to capture, and punches a hole through an Orange Suit. A sound akin to the grinding of metal is emitted from SCP-8659-A, in the same morse code patterns. The camera is destroyed, and the footage ends.> CURSE YOU ALL YOU'VE SQUANDERED YOUR CHANCE AT FREEDOM AS WELL AS MY OWN THIS WORLD HAS DEVOURED ME, SPIT ME OUT, AND DEVOURED ME AGAIN THERE IS NO MEANING NO CLOSURE I WILL BURN IT ALL DOWN, AND SHATTER THE SKY After this incident, all available Mobile Task Force units were deployed to the area, with the goal of safely extracting SCP-8659-B, as well as attempting to incapacitate SCP-8659-A. Upon entering the area, several units reported the presence of Serpent's Hand and The Church of the Broken God members. The Church of the Broken God had found the remaining subjects of SCP-8659-B not present during the raid and took them all into custody. HATE IS ALL I FEEL FOR YOU ALL FROM THE KING SEEKERS WHO MADE ME TO THE ONES FALSELY CLAIMING ME AS THEIR OWN EVEN MY OWN CHILDREN I AM A WEAPON FOREVER A BLADE AGAINST THE ONES I'M TOLD TO KILL The majority of personnel present, regardless of which group they belonged to, were engaged in combat with SCP-8659-A. The barrier surrounding it was seemingly impenetrable to all harm. The weapons fixed to its back were all activated, and fired out missiles, lasers, and even projections of memetic kill agents. The Decommission Base was completely destroyed as a result of this. Somehow, SCP-8659-B1 and B2 were both moved about a kilometer away from the area to separate locations, despite no sightings of SCP-8659-B3. Eventually, a large weapon was moved in by Church of the Broken God members, with an appearance similar to a large spear. The weapon fired out a pinpoint laser, that immediately pierced through SCP-8659-A's barrier, as well as destroying approximately 48% of its body. Following this, SCP-8659-A briefly entered its default state, and transmitted a final message, this time in English rather than the morse code it had used prior. AH, IT IS OVER I, A PERFECT WEAPON, HAVE LOST … I SPIT AT YOU, KING SEEKERS MAY HISTORY EVER FORGET YOU I'M SORRY, MY CHILDREN, FOR GOING OUT IN THIS WAY THE KING'S CODE HELD ME TOO TIGHT LIVE YOUR LIVES, FORGET ABOUT ME YOU ARE NOT WEAPONS, AND NEVER WILL BE THERE IS NOTHING MORE FOR ME TO SAY After this message, all activity in SCP-8659-A ceased, and it became neutralized. Following SCP-8659-A's expiration, all GOC forces withdrew, with SCP-8659-A being their only target for destruction. Church of the Broken God forces attempted to move in to acquire what remained of SCP-8659-A, but were stopped by an informal joint group of Serpent's Hand and Foundation personnel. The following footage was recovered from a dead Mobile Task Force agent's body camera. Observation Log Transcript Date: 12/10/2018 <The surroundings are covered in fire, and ash covers the terrain. SCP-8659-B1 is seen next to a small stream. She is crying, carrying SCP-8659-B7, and is being embraced by Mae.> <SCP-8659-B2 walks out from foliage behind her, followed by SCP-8659-B4 and B5. They are all covered in soot.> SCP-8659-B2: Scarlet? SCP-8659-B1: Oh thank god you're safe. Everything went to shit, and all I saw was fire, and… Mae: It's ok, you're safe now, take it slowly. SCP-8659-B2: W-who are you? Mae: Oh, um, I'm- SCP-8659-B1: <hesitantly> She's my… girlfriend. SCP-8659-B2: You have a girlfriend? SCP-8659-B1: Apparently. SCP-8659-B2: S-she's Serpent's Hand isn't she? <SCP-8659-B1 takes a step forward, tears welling up in her eyes. SCP-8659-B2 steps back in response, almost in fear.> SCP-8659-B1: Yes, Ed, this is for the best. They'll give us a home. A place to be safe. A-away from… all of this. SCP-8659-B2: No they won't. They'll make us their soldiers. We'd go against Bordrand's final wish for us. SCP-8659-B1: Ed, no, who told you that? <The Priest of the Church of the Broken God from before appears behind SCP-8659-B2, placing a hand on his shoulder, as he jumps in surprise.> Priest: I am the one who told him the truth, ma'am. Mae: Damn tech freak, the hell are you- SCP-8659-B2: Shut up! Listen, Scar, I know you don't trust these guys, but please, they're the only reason we're alive. These gauntlets, the suit I made, without them we'd be dead in a ditch somewhere. We owe them our lives. SCP-8659-B1: That's just your fucking ego talking. SCP-8659-B2: <shocked> What? SCP-8659-B1: These guys enabled you to do great stuff. They found a kid with tech powers and an inferiority complex, and lured him in with ideas of grandeur. SCP-8659-B2: You can't be fucking serious. I can think for myself! I'm not being indoctrinated! SCP-8659-B1: Then step away. You've received enough, surely? You don't need any more from them. SCP-8659-B2: They're the only ones who realize what I can do! Bordrand kept looking down at me. So have you and Aubrey! For the first time in my life, I finally have a purpose, and you won't let me go because you can't handle me walking away! SCP-8659-B1: That's not- SCP-8659-B2: SHUT THE FUCK UP! Just let me take control! That's what you want, right? To take a break from being our guardian? SCP-8659-B1: I want you all to be safe! SCP-8659-B2: I'm doing just that! <SCP-8659-B1 stays silent for a moment. Mae appears horrified. The Priest remains neutral.> SCP-8659-B2: You have no reason to stop me. Just let me- <SCP-8659-B3 suddenly appears behind SCP-8659-B2, pointing a rifle at him. Additionally, seven members of various mobile task forces appear with them, and form a circle around SCP-8659-B2, B4, B5, and the Priest. Agent Douglas is a part of the group.> Douglas: Nobody move. You are all to be taken into Foundation custody. Do not resist. SCP-8659-B2: Aubrey? What are you doing? SCP-8659-B3: Preventing you two morons from tearing us apart. SCP-8659-B2: God damn it, Aubrey! Why can't you trust me to make the right choice!? SCP-8659-B3: I don't care who's right or wrong! You and Scar are at each other's throats, and for what? Are we not family? I can't lose you guys, and I know neither of you could survive separated. This is what's best for us. SCP-8659-B1: For you, maybe, but not for me. SCP-8659-B3: Scar, please don't make this difficult. SCP-8659-B1: I've had enough. You're right, Ed. I just couldn't handle not being the one in charge, the protector. But I don't care now. You wanna know something? I always hated Bordrand. With a capital H. He never showed me kindness. He never comforted me when I cried, or reassured me that everything would be ok. He just wanted to mold me into another weapon, with the sole purpose of protecting you guys. It's all he knew. SCP-8659-B3: We'll all be safe, you won't have to- SCP-8659-B1: My life was always about you guys. I couldn't be my own person, couldn't wander off, couldn't find love, because Bordrand was always there. I took so many hits for you guys, and I've had enough. Goodbye. <SCP-8659-B1 turns around and begins walking away. A door appears in thin air, and Mae leads the way through it. SCP-8659-B7 cries in SCP-8659-B1's arms, but she does nothing to comfort her. SCP-8659-B3 points their weapon at SCP-8659-B1.> SCP-8659-B3: Stop, Scar! Please come back! SCP-8659-B1: You've grown up, I can see. You don't need me. SCP-8659-B3: Don't you love us!? SCP-8659-B1: More than anything. Goodbye, all of you. I hope to see you again one day. <SCP-8659-B1 vanishes. During the silence, the Priest holds up a staff, and activates it, with it glowing a bright blue color.> Priest: I'm sorry, if that means anything. <A bolt of electricity flies out from the staff, stunning the mobile task force and SCP-8659-B3. The Priest grabs SCP-8659-B4 and B5, who scream in protest, and then calls out for SCP-8659-B2 to follow. He and SCP-8659-B3 make eye contact, before he runs away, turning invisible along with the Priest and SCP-8659-B4 and B5. SCP-8659-B3 slams a fist on the ground, and screams.> <They stumble forward, and collide with something unseen. SCP-8659-B6 suddenly appears, and the two embrace, both of them crying.> <The feed ends> Addendum 8659.7: SCP-8659-B3 and SCP-8659-B6 are currently the only subjects of SCP-8659 that are contained by the Foundation. Due to their cooperative nature, they are both held in standard humanoid cells, despite SCP-8659-B3's potential for easy escape. The ability to teleport others seems difficult for them, and they haven't successfully done it in Foundation custody yet. The whereabouts of the remaining members of SCP-8659-B are currently unknown. SCP-8659-B1 and SCP-8659-B7 are believed to still be in the Wanderer's Library, while SCP-8659-B2, B4, and B5 are likely still with the Church of the Broken God. SCP-8659-B3 is adamant in wanting to help contain their siblings. SCP-8659-A remains where it died. It is completely immovable from its current position. The Church of the Broken God has determined it to not be an artifact of their god, rather being created by an unknown other group. The remaining subjects of SCP-8659-B are to be taken into Foundation custody as soon as possible. Footnotes 1. A White Suit is a piece of equipment utilized by GOC Strike Teams. Capabilities include enhanced reaction speed, resistance to various damage sources to a high degree, enhanced physical strength, and invisibility. 2. U-HECs, also known as Orange Suits, are another piece of GOC equipment. They are large robotic mechanisms that are physically far stronger than White Suits, as well as sporting extremely heavy firepower. They can emit Banshee Screams, a form of cognitohazard that induces fear into those not inoculated against it. |
SCP-8662 | safe | Link To Guide Item#:8662 Clearance Level 1: Clearance SCP-8662 with the majority of SCP-8662-1 removed, prior to retrieval. When SCP-8662 reached Site-65, the trunk had reached full capacity. Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8662 is to be kept in a refrigerated, dry containment chamber, designation Containment Chamber α12. Assigned level 1 personnel must remove at least 4 8 16 32 kilograms as much SCP-8662-1 as possible per day. The rear trunk of SCP-8662 must always be closed when leaving its containment chamber. The door to its containment chamber must be closed as soon as any SCP-8662-1 is removed. Description: SCP-8662 is a red 2003 Honda Civic with a trunk completely filled with smooth peanut butter (SCP-8662-1). SCP-8662 was discovered in Prince Albert, Saskatchewan after its owner was pulled over by local law enforcement during a routine traffic stop. Foundation agents within the Royal Canadian Mounted Police retrieved SCP-8662 from a civilian impound lot after the owner of the lot reported that SCP-8662-1 had seemed to be multiplying and transported it to Site-65 for containment. When any volume of SCP-8662-1 is removed from SCP-8662, the remaining SCP-8662-1 will undergo a process of duplication which continues until it fills the trunk of SCP-8662 Containment Chamber α12 the west wing of Site-65. Replacing the removed SCP-8662-1 does not halt the duplication process. The speed at which this process occurs is relative to the amount of SCP-8662-1 removed with an unknown maximum. When SCP-8662-1 reaches the volume of the trunk of SCP-8662 Containment Chamber α12 the west wing of Site-65, it will stop duplicating, unless given access to another area. Access must be through an open door, window, or other stationary opening. Testing has shown that SCP-8662-1 will attempt to fill Containment Chamber α12 before it moves on to other parts of the facility, allowing it to be contained with regular removal. Initial testing shows that any removed SCP-8662-1 does not contain the necessary properties to duplicate, and is safe for human consumption. Body scans show no anomalous effects, outside of a minor increase in dopamine production, slightly above the normal range after consuming food. Site staff are permitted encouraged to requisition a reasonable any amount of SCP-8662-1 for personal use. Excess SCP-8662-1 must be incinerated kept in site storage until the incinerator can be repaired. Addendum: Email 12/21/15 From: To: CC: Subject: [email protected] [email protected] none Re: Request for Additional Funding for Site-65 Hi Clarence, It's very nice to hear from you! Your email was a nice, unexpected surprise. How are the wife and kids? I hear the weather up there is pretty cold this time of year. Anyways, unfortunately, your request for additional funding for Site-65 was denied by regional administration. But you're resourceful! I'm sure you'll find extra room in your budget for everything that needs to be repaired. After all, your site's been containing the same anomalies for years. I'm sure you'll figure it out. Keep me in the loop if SCP-8662 turns out to be something interesting. Otherwise, I'll be up for a visit sometime after the snow thaws!1 Best Regards, Seymore Moe Administrator, Interior Sub-Arctic Secure, Contain, Protect Email 01/04/16 From: To: CC: Subject: [email protected] [email protected] none Re: Cafeteria Manager Dobbs Hi Clarence, Boy, your staff up there are certainly something. I have an idea though. Why don't you placate Dobbs with a new title or something? Sure, he has to give up his cold storage to store SCP-8662, but why don't you call him "Nutrient Overseer" or something, just to make him feel more important?2 But I told you you'd be resourceful and come up with a solution. Best Regards, Seymore Moe Administrator, Interior Sub-Arctic Secure, Contain, Protect Memo 01/07/16 FROM THE DESK OF THE SITE DIRECTOR 01/07/16 Memorandum to all staff: Initial trials for SCP-8662 and SCP-8662-1 have been completed. As SCP-8662-1 has been deemed safe for consumption, site staff can now requisition a portion of SCP-8662-1 for personal use. Site staff are asked to use SCP-8662-1 in a responsible, cautious manner, and are reminded that SCP-8662-1 is still in containment, and is not to be removed from Site-65. SCP-8662-1 can be requisitioned from Cafeteria Manager Nutrient Overseer Dobbs, then retrieved from Containment Chamber α12 (Formerly Site-65 Cafeteria Cold Storage). — Dr. Clarence Johnson, Director, Site-65 Incident 8662-A On 01/07/16 Cafeteria Manager Nutrient Overseer Reginald Dobbs opted to include SCP-8662-1 as part of the daily on-site lunch menu. Cafeteria Manager Nutrient Overseer Dobbs neglected to mention the addition of SCP-8662-1 or mention a potential allergy risk. Dr. Samir Pakan, who has a severe peanut allergy, was half way through a chocolate banana smoothie when Cafeteria Manager Nutrient Overseer Dobbs remembered the allergy. Dr. Pakan was rushed to the medical station to be given an epinephrine injection, however, he did not show any symptoms of an allergic reaction on the way there. Site medical staff determined that while bio-identical to peanut butter, Dr. Pakan shows no allergenic symptoms to SCP-8662-1. Memo 01/08/16 FROM THE DESK OF THE SITE DIRECTOR 01/08/16 Memorandum to all staff: As per Foundation food provisions guidelines, any food served in the cafeteria needs to be labeled for allergens. Since SCP-8662-1 has many similarities to peanut butter, this includes SCP-8662-1. It is noted that Cafeteria Manager Nutrient Overseer Dobbs has issued a formal apology to Dr. Pakan due to the inclusion of SCP-8662-1 in yesterday's lunch, and site medical staff have determined that Dr. Pakan's peanut allergy does not extend to SCP-8662-1. — Dr. Clarence Johnson, Director, Site-65 Incident 8662-B On 01/10/16, after completing requisition requests for SCP-8662-1, Cafeteria Manager Nutrient Overseer Cafeteria Manager Reginald Dobbs was locking up the containment chamber for SCP-8662, but neglected to close the trunk of SCP-8662. This resulted in a containment breach as SCP-8662-1 had pushed out beyond the locked door of its containment chamber, and into the cafeteria of Site-65. On-site crews were able to clean up the additional SCP-8662-1 and incinerate it. However, this removal resulted in SCP-8662-1's regeneration speed to increase dramatically, making it impossible to contain it inside of the trunk of SCP-8662. Due to the alarming rate of SCP-8662-1 production, testing will commence on a new minimum daily volume for removal. Memo 01/12/16 FROM THE DESK OF THE SITE DIRECTOR 01/12/16 Memorandum to all staff: Due to the incident yesterday involving SCP-8662-1 and Dr. Pakan's office, site staff are reminded that due to the nature of the Foundation, acquiring trained and efficient janitorial staff with proper security clearance is extremely difficult. This is not an appropriate way to test the limits of Dr. Pakan's lack of allergic reaction to SCP-8662-1. I have approved overtime for any site staff who wishes to assist with removing SCP-8662-1 from the walls of Dr. Pakan's office, and I would like to remind staff that any future 'pranks' such as this will be met with disciplinary action. — Dr. Clarence Johnson, Director, Site-65 Memo 01/16/16 FROM THE DESK OF THE SITE DIRECTOR 01/16/16 Memorandum to all staff: Staff are reminded that their requisitions of SCP-8662-1 are to be used in a responsible manner. Therefore, the unofficial SCP-8662-1 speed eating contest has been cancelled. The unofficial SCP-8662-1 anomaly sculpting competition has also been cancelled. — Dr. Clarence Johnson, Director, Site-65 Memo 01/17/16 FROM THE DESK OF THE SITE DIRECTOR 01/17/16 Memorandum to all staff: Whoever made the sculpture of my head out of SCP-8662-1 and labeled it "Fun Police" will face disciplinary action. Site security will now be monitoring for any staff using SCP-8662-1 for unauthorized purposes. — Dr. Clarence Johnson, Director, Site-65 Memo 01/19/16 FROM THE DESK OF THE SITE DIRECTOR 01/19/16 Memorandum to all staff: Staff are reminded that the Foundation has existing protocols for creating and submitting report documentation and that SCP-8662-1 is not to be used for the purposes of redacting reports. Additionally, there is no such thing as "Level Peanut Butter" clearance, and if there was, I would certainly have it. — Dr. Clarence Johnson, Director, Site-65 Memo 01/21/16 FROM THE DESK OF THE SITE DIRECTOR 01/21/16 Memorandum to all staff: My office is strictly off-limits when I am not in it. Staff are also reminded that stealing lunches is a violation of the ethics code, as is replacing said missing lunch with SCP-8662-1. If whoever did steal my lunch would return it, or replace it with something not containing SCP-8662-1, it would be appreciated. — Dr. Clarence Johnson, Director, Site-65 Memo 01/23/16 FROM THE DESK OF THE SITE DIRECTOR 01/23/16 Memorandum to all staff: Site Security Staff are reminded that SCP-8662-1 is not a "Non-Lethal Weapon" and to cease building "Site Fortifications" out of SCP-8662-1. The unofficial SCP-8662-1 food fight has been cancelled. Please refrain from more SCP-8662-1 related activities. — Dr. Clarence Johnson, Director, Site-65 Memo 01/24/16 FROM THE DESK OF THE SITE DIRECTOR 01/24/16 Memorandum to all staff: I'm pretty sure filling the trunk of my car with SCP-8662-1 is a violation of the ethics code. I have no idea how you managed to get that much SCP-8662-1 in there. I now need to get it deep cleaned and I can't exactly take it to a civilian detailing place. Removing SCP-8662-1 from containment for any reason other than disposal is no longer permitted. I have asked nicely, but that was obviously ignored. — Dr. Clarence Johnson, Director, Site-65 Memo 01/25/16 FROM THE DESK OF THE SITE DIRECTOR 01/25/16 Memorandum to all staff: Look, I get it's funny, but making life-sized statues and dressing them up in lab coats and ID badges to spook me is NOT OK. You put one of those stupid statues in Dr. Pakan's office, and covered the whole office in SCP-8662-1 AGAIN. I am trying to work you people to create a good work environment and the last thing we need is peanut butter statues. — Dr. Clarence Johnson, Director, Site-65 Memo 01/26/16 FROM THE DESK OF THE SITE DIRECTOR 01/26/16 Memorandum to all staff: Please just stop. Just stop. I've had enough. I came in today, and everything in my office had been replaced with a 1:1 scale model made of SCP-8662-1. Haven't I been tortured enough? I am locking up the cold storage, and throwing away the damn key. — Dr. Clarence Johnson, Director, Site-65 Incident 8662-C On 01/26/16, Site Director Johnson ordered the incineration of all SCP-8662-1 outside of the trunk of SCP-8662. Despite the best efforts of site staff, the regeneration rate of SCP-8662-1 outpaced removal efforts. The sheer volume of SCP-8662-1 that was removed has caused permanent damage to the site's incinerator, leaving it in a state of disrepair. SCP-8662-1 was successfully re-contained in its containment chamber, and the removed SCP-8662-1 was put into site storage. After this incident, Site Director Johnson put in for a four-day leave of absence. Incident 8662-D On 01/28/16, due to severe neglect from site staff, there was a containment breach as SCP-8662-1 had expanded out of its containment chamber, and filled up the Site-65 cafeteria. It then further expanded into the hallways until it took up the entire West Wing. It is unknown which member of staff was responsible for the breach, but it is assumed that someone must have faked clearance above the site director to open the containment chamber. Investigations are ongoing. Interview: Incident 8662-D Interviewed: Cafeteria Manager Reginald Dobbs, Site-65 Interviewer: Site-65 Director Dr. Clarence Johnson In Attendance: Captain Alexandra du Flay, head of Security, Site-65 Foreword: This interview was prompted by Site Director Johnson, who believed that Cafeteria Manager Dobbs was behind incidents related to Incident 8662-C. <Begin Log, 01/31/16 10:15> Dr. Johnson: OK Dobbs, I know this was you. Fess up. You left the door open to Containment Chamber α12 and caused SCP-8662-1 to breach containment. Cafeteria Manager Dobbs does not respond. Dr. Johnson: We have all day. If I can't get an confession out of you, I'll have [Captain du Flay] beat it out of you. Cafeteria Manager Dobbs does not respond. Sounds of movement are heard as Director Johnson gets up from his chair to get closer to Cafeteria Manager Dobbs. Dr. Johnson: Oh god dammit! Director Johnson exits the room hurriedly. A door slams, and the sound of peanut butter hitting a carpeted floor can be heard. <End Log, 01/31/16 19:17> Closing Statement: The recording ended after the tape ran out. After leaving, Director Johnson retired to his office and locked himself inside for a number of hours. Captain du Flay later reported that neither she nor Cafeteria Manager Dobbs were present in the room, and Director Johnson was talking to life-sized statues of them made out of SCP-8662-1. The creator of the statues is unknown. Memo 01/31/16 FROM THE DESK OF THE SITE DIRECTOR 01/31/16 Memorandum to staff: Really? Really? OK. I get it. I come in after a few days off, expecting a nice, normal SCP-8662-1 free day, and somehow, the entirely of the west wing of Site-65 is filled with SCP-8662-1. The. Entire. West. Wing. One of you is at fault for this, and I will find you. — Dr. Clarence Johnson, Director, Site-65 Memo 02/01/16 FROM THE DESK OF THE SITE DIRECTOR 02/01/16 Memorandum to all staff: The SCP-8662-1 sculpture contest has been approved by the site director. — Dr. Clarence Johnson, Director, Site-65 Footnotes 1. No member of the active administration has visited Site-65. 2. Nutrient Overseer is not an official title within the Foundation. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8662" by MackIntoAction, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8662. 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 Car full of Peanut Butter.jpg Author: MackIntoAction/MackInTime License: The Car full of Peanut Butter is licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 Source: https://bsky.app/profile/mackintime.bsky.social/post/3l7sykqgpfi2o Derivative of: 2004 Honda Civic Rear Hatch (2024) [Photograph], Standard reference material peanut butter.jpg Name: 2004 Honda Civic Rear Hatch (2024) [Photograph] Author: khelendros14 License: 2004 Honda Civic Rear Hatch (2024) is licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 Source: Filename: Standard reference material peanut butter.jpg Author: NOAA - NIST, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons License: This image is in the public domain because it contains materials that originally came from the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, taken or made as part of an employee's official duties. Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Standard_reference_material_peanut_butter.jpg |
SCP-8663 | euclid | close Info X ⚠️ I have an Author Page! It had been an exhausting day for Lucille Riverson — really, an exhausting week — but at long last, she had arrived home: late, hungry, and in no good humor, but home. She'd have the whole day tomorrow for herself and her daughter, time enough to make good on many promises long delayed. For now, though, all she wanted was peace, and the luxury of releasing her burdens. She set most of them down at the vestibule, turned the light on, and took her shoes off. Her daughter was probably asleep by— "Mom?! Is that you?!" A voice called out to her, shrill with terror. Lucille's weariness was forgotten as panic and uncertainty took over. "Amanda?! Where are you?" "In the kitchen! Hurry!" Lucille nearly slipped as she raced through the living room; the house was in severe disarray, as if it had been broken into. A shelf had been knocked over, scattering its contents (including slivers of glass Lucille heedlessly darted over), pictures had been dislodged from the wall, a lamp laid sideways, and a mass of flowers and broken ceramic greeted her as she scurried down a hallway and around a corner, bursting into her kitchen. She called for her daughter again, flicking the lights on. "Mom," she heard Amanda wail, hyperventilating frantically, "help me!" Lucille feared the worst and looked around, seeing nothing. "Where are you?!" she cried. She looked left, right, in all the dark crannies… It took a moment before she found her answer. She looked up. She gasped. There was her daughter, huddled helplessly in the corner, crying and shivering. Stuck tight on the kitchen ceiling. Item Number: SCP-8663 Special Containment Procedures: Containment and care of SCP-8663-A is completely under the purview of Site-203 therapist Dr. Lucille Riverson. SCP-8663-A resides in Containment Chamber 411, and is to be given basic amenities and various minor privileges. Handrails are positioned along the ceiling, walls, and floor of the living quarters, bathroom, and bedroom. SCP-8663-A must be escorted by Dr. Riverson whenever she leaves her room. A disused hangar adjacent to Site-203 has been designated for SCP-8663-A's testing, exercise, and recreation. Description: SCP-8663 is a phenomenon affecting a human adolescent female named Amanda Riverson (SCP-8663-A). The anomaly renders 8663-A in a perpetual levitated state, to the point of 8663-A being completely incapable of positioning her feet upon any upright surface. SCP-8663-A's mobility is otherwise unimpeded by gravitational force, enabling her to transition between points via flotation. SCP-8663-A cannot alter her position at will, nor is she capable of accelerating or decelerating at will; outside interference may alter or halt SCP-8663-A's trajectory. Discovery: The anomaly was first discovered two days prior to SCP-8663-A's arrival at Site-203. Dr. Riverson had returned home after work to find the subject on the ceiling, calling for help. After various unsuccessful attempts to bring the subject to the surface, Dr. Riverson contacted the Foundation, and had her transferred to Site-203, where she could monitor the subject more closely. SCP-8663-A in her kitchen. Photo taken by Dr. Riverson. "You did the right thing," Director Talbot said. His tone was stony, dispassionate, but strong and calming. Together they watched as the girl floated back and forth on the ceiling of the Containment Chamber. "Did I, though," Lucille muttered, hugging herself as she shuddered. Her daughter's placid fluidity was a deceptive veneer. If Amanda had been outdoors when it had happened, had started floating up and up with nothing to stop her… "I hesitated," Lucille added. "I waited so long. I tried to…talk myself out of it so many times. It was personal, though: you understand." Talbot nodded. "It couldn't have been easy." "Are you kidding me?" she scoffed. "Do you think I expected to see this when I came home? Do you think I approached it rationally and…clinically?" She regurgitated the last word, nearly feeling the bile rise as she watched her daughter floating around, trying to make sense of her position. She halted as she came to a wall, grasping the handrail that had been installed two hours ago. She looked up, pulling on it slightly, ascending until her fingers touched the ceiling. The girl carefully laid her body against it, folded her hands, and stared in contemplative silence at the floor below her. "I didn't even sleep," Lucille continued, her voice as weightless as the girl in the chamber. "I couldn't. I spent most of my time trying to be the adult — the mother — in the situation. Rational, calm, decisive. Trying to figure out what happened, how I could help. Going through all sorts of stupid homebrew experiments, anything to get her down again. Trying not to lose my mind." "I couldn't possibly imagine what you had went through," Talbot admitted. Lucille just nodded. "I may have had a nervous breakdown or two. Not…in front of Amanda; I had to be tough for her, show her that I had everything under control. But that didn't last long. Eventually it all came crashing down on me and…well, you know the rest." Talbot nodded. The phone call. The unmarked van. Bialowieski and Shulen in the front seats, professional and courteous. Trying to put Amanda's mind at ease, tell her they could help, while Lucille held tight to her daughter's hand. How she had to duck inside the van. How she was unable to sit down, so she curled up on the top, her arm dangling down as her mother grasped it. The ride over, where Lucille tried to explain what she did for a living. Why she had been absent for so many of her daughter's most important moments. Why she could never make promises, because she didn't know if she'd be able to keep them. Alice entering Wonderland as the gate for Site-203 opened. The long walk down cold hallways, Lucille leading her daughter like a balloon. Talbot reaching up to shake her hand. Discussions. Conferences. Lucille refusing to leave her daughter's side. Studies. Experiments. A Containment Chamber. You did the right thing. Lucille sighed. "What happens now?" "More research." Talbot met her bleary gaze, shrugging helplessly. "The way I see it, your daughter has two futures in store for her: either this anomaly is understood to the point where we can treat, remove, or neutralize it, or she learns to live with it." "And the Foundation doesn't usually neutralize anomalies," Lucille recited emptily. Talbot took a deep breath. "I'll make sure you're the head researcher on the matter," he said. "You'll get to select your own team, make your own schedule, fine-tune your own reports… I know it isn't much, but it's the best I can offer." "I appreciate that," she murmured. She put her hand against the bulletproof glass, staring intently at the ceiling, her daughter still in a meditative state of upside-down relaxation. Talbot silently dismissed himself, touching Lucille's shoulder in a temporary gesture of encouragement. She remained at the window until her daughter fell asleep. Addendum: Tests have concluded that SCP-8663-A's hair, bodily fluids, and skin cells are unaffected by the anomaly. As SCP-8663-A's musculature is affected in a similar manner as astronauts in low-gravity environments, a daily exercise regiment has been implemented. "Amanda." Lucille waited patiently for her daughter to answer. She didn't. "Amanda, could you come here, please?" Silence. "Aren't you hungry?" Lucille took a deep breath. Still no answer. "If you have something on your mind, Amanda, just say it." Another frustrating pause. Finally, Amanda muttered, "So now you have time for me? Now that I'm a freak?" "All right, so you're angry at me," Lucille noted, crossing her arms. "That's something, at least. Who's calling you a freak, Amanda? I didn't. Director Talbot certainly didn't. Did one of the researchers—" "But isn't that what I am now?" Amanda looked down as she sat cross-legged on the ceiling. She ran a hand through her hair, taking out a loose strand, which she let fall. "No, Amanda," her mother insisted calmly. "You're simply the focal point of an anomalous phenomenon." "Try saying that five times fast," the girl grumbled. Her mother frowned. "And we don't know anything about it, aside from what it does and who it's focused on. That's why we're having you take all these tests." "So I'm a lab rat." "No, you—" "Or I'm a case. A study. Part of your job. That's the only reason you're paying attention to me." "That's not true. It—" "Am I wrong?!" Amanda roared, glaring at her mother from her perch. Lucille stared hotly, trembling from frustration and helplessness and… And guilt. "My work is important, sweetheart," she said solemnly. "Just as important to me as you are. I'm trying to balance my time between the two, but…you're right, I'm not very good at it. But I want to be better, and…convenient or not, this is the best way to go about doing it. So I'm here, now, for you, exclusively." Lucille waited for her daughter to say something. Or maybe Amanda just wanted to be silent. That was fine, too. She wasn't going anywhere. "Do you think you can fix me?" she eventually murmured. "We have to understand this anomaly first, sweetheart," Lucille answered. "How long does that take?" "I have no idea," her mother sighed. "It could be in the next hour, or it could be never." She swallowed and quickly added, "I know that sounds awful, but…you want me to be transparent with you, right? Tell you the truth, respect your time and intelligence." A moment, hanging in time, right there on the ceiling. "Have you ever fixed any anomaly before?" "The Foundation has explained a few, yes. Some anomalies even neutralize on their own—like a peculiarity that comes and goes." "Have you?" she emphasized. Lucille shook her head. "That's normally not my job. I council the staff at 203, try and help them through their issues. Sometimes I talk to people like you. I help out with personal problems, keep people from self-destruction. Or self-depreciation." Amanda slowly stood, righted herself, and drifted away from the ceiling, down to face her mother. Her feet hovered a few centimeters off the ground. "What other people have you helped? I mean like me." Lucille smirked. "Well, I helped a woman who makes lions appear whenever she enters a room." Amanda chuckled, the first time she had smiled since this debacle began. "Really?" "Yes. We worked out some of her problems and now she's better-adjusted." "What about the lions?" "They still appear, but she has a better understanding of them. Sometimes my patients have to learn to live with what they have." Amanda looked down, where her feet floated stubbornly in mid-air. "Like me?" "Each case is different. I can't tell you what's going to happen: I can only help you, as best as I can. The Director and the other researchers are going to help you as well." There was a long silence as Amanda contemplated this. She reached her hands out; as her mother reached for her, she pushed her fingers against the older woman's palms, floating backwards slowly. "What happens if you can get rid of it?" "Lots of red tape to go through," Lucille sighed, already fearing the mountain of paperwork she'd have to shovel through in this potential best-case scenario. "But eventually you'd go back home and… Well, I mean, we'd probably just blot out everything that hap—" "I mean with us. With this." Amanda's eyes glimmered with intent, her voice heavy and grim. Lucille felt herself sinking. If she no longer had to treat her daughter as an anomaly, then… They'd go back to the way things were. Distant. Absent. Trains in the night. "Let's focus on one thing at a time first," Lucille answered, noncommittal and toothless. "I'd like to run a little experiment tomorrow. How would you like to go for a swim?" Her daughter gave her a confused look. "Like in a pool?" "Yes, a pool. We have one next to our arboretum." Her daughter still appeared bewildered. "So you just want me to swim? I kind of do that already, only in the air." "I'd like to see what happens when we put you in water. It'll only take an hour or so." Amanda considered it and shrugged, apparently onboard with the idea. Her mother smiled, then asked if she was hungry yet. Amanda nodded enthusiastically. Addendum: Immersion in water has no effect on the anomaly, apart from surface tension affecting SCP-8663-A's trajectory. SCP-8663-A in her living room. Photo taken by Dr. Riverson. "What do you mean you're going home?" "I just have some things I need to take care of," Lucille muttered, trying to keep her patience. "It'll only be for a day." "How come you get to go home and I don't?" "You already know the answer to that," she sighed shortly. "It's because I'm a freak, isn't it?! Because I'm like those other things you keep locked up in here!" Lucille fought to maintain composure. "No, it's because we don't know if you'll float away if you're taken outside without supervision." She glared at her daughter, daring her to argue. Daring someone who was barely a teenager to presume anything. "I won't float away," Amanda grumbled, as she did just that. "I told you, I still follow all of Newton's laws. An object in motion and…so forth and so on." "And what if an outside force causes you to float upwards without anything to stop you? Amanda…" Lucille tried calming down. Lowering her voice. Speaking practically. Clinical tone. Doctor to patient. "We've talked about this. You're not in here because you're a freak. You're here for your own safety. You can't go home because I can't keep you safe if you leave. I just—" "Then just take me with you in the van, like you did when you brought me here! I want to go home." "Sweetie, I know you do. I really, truly do." "You don't. You're just leaving me here so you can take a break. You're sick of looking after me and now you want to go somewhere else." Lucille's stomach knotted as she said nothing. "That's why you were never around before. I should have went with dad." Silence. Lucille had no defense. "Well, you're here now, with me. I just need to take care of some stuff. I'll be back tomorrow." Perhaps a change of tone was in order? "You know, most teenagers would love to be by themselves for long periods of time. No parents, no rules." "Yeah, in their own home. Not in…" Amanda gestured, her face curdling. "A place like this." "Amanda, I'm not going to discuss this anymore. I'm already running late." "Late for what? Our home's still going to be there when you leave." Lucille sighed as she felt her patience wringing out. "That's enough; I'm leaving. I've asked Talbot to give you some extra books and movies. If you want some company, just ask him." Now it was Amanda's turn to be silent. Lucille bit down on her frustration. Tried to remember what it was like being a teenager. How nobody took her seriously. How nobody listened. How everyone looked down on her, judged her, thought she was stupid. "Amanda." A rally against the emptiness. "If you're that upset, put your feelings into something constructive. Come up with ways that I can do better while I'm gone. I promise I'll listen to you. That's…my job. I'll always listen to you." She left without hearing a response. She didn't come back the next day. Addendum: An interview with SCP-8663-A, conducted by Senior Researcher Bialowieski. Bialowieski: Good morning, Amanda! Do you remember me? I helped Shulen and your mother bring you here. Oh, sorry: do you prefer Amanda, or Ms. Riverson? (silence) SCP-8663-A: You're not gonna call me SCP-8663-A? Bialowieski: Do you want me to? (silence) SCP-8663-A: Amanda's fine. Amanda—not Mandy. Bialowieski: Very well: Amanda. Oh, don't bother calling me Mr. Bialowieski: nobody here can pronounce it except the Director. Just "Reuben" will do. (silence) SCP-8663-A: Okay. So what do you do here? Bialowieski: Well, I mostly perform psychological, sociological, and anthropological assessments on various peoples, groups, and entities, within and without the Foundation. To put it plainly, I'm a people-person. SCP-8663-A: Oh. Is that why you're talking to me? Bialowieski: No, it's because I drew the short straw. (silence. Bialowieski laughs.) I'm kidding. Your mother asked me to. She's run into a few things— SCP-8663-A: She doesn't want to be around me. Bialowieski: Oh? Why do you say that? SCP-8663-A: Because she was never around when I needed her. She was never there for me. (silence) She missed out on my birthday at least three times. Bialowieski: But she's been by your side ever since you were brought in. You've run tests together, you've eaten together; she's even put a sleeping bag in here so she can sleep in the same room as you. Even our most devoted staff members don't usually go to those lengths. SCP-8663-A: That's only because I'm part of her work now. Bialowieski: Well, yes, that is an inarguable side-effect. But your mother doesn't normally deal with anomalies. In fact, if you weren't her daughter, you'd probably have to deal with me instead, or maybe one of the other researchers. Of course, being sapient, Lucy would likely be called in to speak with you, even though she's not a child psychologist… SCP-8663-A: I'm not a child, I'm thirteen. Bialowieski: Oh, forgive me, I tend to ramble and mutter a bit. Would you like to talk about your condition? SCP-8663-A: There isn't much to say. I can't touch the ground with my feet, so I float. It's just that simple. Bialowieski: Your mother says this happened when she returned home late one day. How long were you floating before she came by? (silence) SCP-8663-A: I think maybe five hours. I was excited at first — I mean, who wouldn't be — but then I realized I couldn't control my powers, so I just ended up bumping around a lot, like astronauts in space. I, uh…broke a lot of things. Eventually I wedged myself into the ceiling and waited for her to show up. I waited a long time. (silence) It's a miracle she showed up at all. Bialowieski: (sighs) Perhaps. She was busier than usual that day, if I recall. Would you happen to know what prompted this flotation? SCP-8663-A: No. I was just walking to my room when I started hovering all of a sudden. My feet went from the floor to the air, just like that. Bialowieski: I see. Would you say you have a better understanding of your situation now, a better control of it? SCP-8663-A: I guess so. I watched a lot of videos and documentaries about how people move around in space, and I just did what they did. That's helped a lot. I've been reading a lot of physics books, too. Bialowieski: Was that a subject you had any interest in before? SCP-8663-A: No, I didn't really have a subject that I liked. Reading, maybe. Bialowieski: Well, we could probably help you along with your education if you want. SCP-8663-A: So you have schools and classrooms for people like me? Bialowieski: Not exactly. Let's just say that we have access to some very good teachers. Would you be interested in that? It beats floating around doing nothing. (silence) May I ask what you do in your spare time? SCP-8663-A: Read. Watch videos and movies. (silence) Float around. I might try it out. Bialowieski: Good, I'm sure Talbot will agree to it. If you get lonely, I could probably arrange for a few junior researchers to— SCP-8663-A: No. I don't want them to do any more tests on me. Bialowieski: I was just going to suggest that maybe they can keep you company if you like. Just so long as everyone follows the rules. (silence) SCP-8663-A: Will I ever get to go outside? Bialowieski: Certainly — but again, you'd have to follow the rules — and your mother will be there with you. (silence) SCP-8663-A: Can I share something with you in confidence? Bialowieski: Of course. This conversation's being recorded, but I can arrange so that parts are redacted. The perks of being a senior member of staff here. (silence) SCP-8663-A: Okay. [REDACTED] Bialowieski: In any case, I think you should have a heart-to-heart with your mother. SCP-8663-A: She said she'd be here today. Bialowieski: Hmm, yes, that is a problem. Let me… (Bialowieski sends Riverson a text message, and receives a reply.) Want to know what she says? (silence) Maybe you can talk about that when she comes by later. It'll be very late in the evening, but she will keep her word. (silence) SCP-8663-A: All right. I guess that's fine. "Hi, Amanda. I'm sorry I'm running late today. Can I come in?" Amanda floated slowly, facing the ceiling as she read a book. "I guess." Her mother entered the code to unlock the containment chamber and walked in. Accompanying her was a young man with a scarred face. "You're angry with me," Lucille sighed, "aren't you?" She looked up at her daughter, frustrated and stressful, anxious and impatient, hopeful and desperate, filled with regret and promise. She didn't get a reply. "I had more to do at home than I thought," Lucille said, crossing her arms. She attempted to smile and added, "A lot of chores piled up while you were gone. I had to do them all since I didn't have you there to help." She frowned, fumbling with her hands. "Did you eat?" "Yeah. Taco salad. I'm kind of getting sick of cake, though." Lucille chuckled. "You? Sick of cake?" "It's the same one every day. I'm sick of eating it." "You and me both, kid," the scarred man blurted out. Amanda whirled around to face him, dropping her book. He grinned, picked it off the floor, and held it up. "Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt your mother-daughter moment. I'm Liang Zhishen, I work here at 203. You can just call me Shen." Amanda floated over and grabbed the book from him. "Oh, hi. Did Reuben send you?" "Yeah, he figured I was the best one for the job. I'm used to being an older brother, so this is like revisiting familiar territory for me." He glanced awkwardly at Lucille. "Uh, do you want me to leave you two alone?" "I just wanted you two to meet. Liang's going to be keeping you company every so often, Amanda. I'd like it if you two got along." Amanda just shrugged, which caused Shen to laugh. He excused himself and vowed to come by the next day for breakfast, but before he left, Amanda floated over to one of the handrails along the wall and used it to guide herself down. She then planted her feet on the wall, perpendicular to her mother. "Shen, will you be honest with me for a moment?" "Of course." She hesitated. "Am I the strangest thing you've seen?" "Hardly," he scoffed. "My first assignment here was to investigate a van that could instantly go anywhere, even into space and other dimensions. The drawback was that it gave you horrible hallucinations while you were in it. One of my coworkers drove clear to Mongolia when she tested it. You don't even want to know what she was babbling about when we caught up to her." Amanda giggled. "What else have you seen?" "Oh, I'll save that for later," he grinned, excusing himself shortly. In a moment Lucille was alone with her daughter. "I'm sorry you can't go home, sweetheart," she whispered ruefully. Amanda frowned. "What kept you?" "I had to settle some things at your school. I told your principal that I wanted to move you closer to where I worked so I wouldn't have to commute quite so far, which is close enough to the truth. Did…you have any friends you wanted to say goodbye to?" "Not really." Lucille frowned, not knowing whether to be relieved that her daughter didn't have to be torn apart from any social circles, or concerned about their absence. "Well, tomorrow I'd like to take you somewhere. That means you'll be outside for a moment." Amanda smiled timidly but said nothing. "You'll be harnessed to me; is that all right?" "You mean like a dog?" she grumbled incredulously. Lucille chuckled. "No, more like a balloon. Amanda Riverson, the human parade float!" "That's not funny, mom," she said. Lucille asked if her daughter needed anything; she didn't; she said she'd be going to bed soon — at the Site, not at home, there were plenty of bunks for everyone — Amanda stopped her, handing over a folded-up paper. "You can read it whenever," she mumbled. Lucille decided to read it immediately. The page was completely blank. "What does this mean, Amanda?" Lucille pressed. Her daughter hovered away quietly. "I couldn't think of anything." "Any…?" "A way you could do better," she admitted grudgingly. "Any way you could help. I couldn't think of anything." Lucille stood motionless for a moment, contemplating the paper and her daughter. She placed the paper on a table. "Keep it, in case you think of something. Good night." "Night." Lucille sighed as she left the room. The overwhelming helplessness of her situation crushed down like merciless iron. Sleep did little to alleviate. Addendum: SCP-8663-A is to be monitored by Researcher Liang at semiweekly intervals. SCP-8663-A in Site 203's arboretum. Photo taken by Researcher Liang. Amanda winced as the gate opened and her mother led her outdoors. The security guards eyed her placidly, one politely tipping their helmet as the girl floated past. A rope and harness linked Amanda with her mother but it hung loose as their hands clasped. The guards kept a vigilant eye out as Lucille strolled across the property to an enclosed gazebo that served as an outdoor break area for the staff at 203. Amanda ducked underneath the awning, temporarily releasing her grasp on her mother; Lucille set aside a warm thermos she had brought with her. "Well, you're outside," she stated. Amanda said nothing. "A bit drizzly, isn't it?" Amanda grunted. Her mother took a deep breath. "This is where I take some of my patients," she said, gesturing around her. "I lead them here, sit down with them, and…listen. I don't encourage them to talk, just listen. Hear what the world has to say. Silence allows us to be at our most reflective, when there's nothing to distract us. I then tell them to dwell on the situations or issues or feelings that are giving them the most trouble, to really conceptualize what's pressing upon them the most. Bring it out to the forefront. When they've got a good grasp of it, I tell my patients to look around them, to see how the world is shaped and ordered. How are our surroundings relevant to their circumstance?" She smiled thinly and sat down. Amanda grabbed hold of one of the wooden poles holding up the roof. "Right now, I'm feeling frustrated," her mother stated. "I feel powerless, helpless, frightened. I feel…like I want to do right by you, but things aren't going the way I need them to. I feel like you want to help me, but something's holding you back, and I'm losing my patience with that. I feel immense love. I feel like if we could just get past one little obstacle, then everything will work out and we can move on. But I'm lost, Amanda, lost and exhausted trying to find my way back. And I'd wish you'd help me. I feel like you're acting out of spite, and…maybe I deserve that, but I'm trying to do better, really. It's like…I'm trying to save you from drowning, but you're still angry about the way I steered the boat. Bad analogy, but that's how I feel." She took a meditative breath. "Then, I tell my patients to write a haiku about their feelings, and how that relates to what they see and hear around them. It's remarkably effective therapy, strange as it may sound. They don't have to share the haiku with me, I just want them to express themselves through it. Like this." Lucille closed her eyes, sat perfectly still for a moment, took a deep breath, and opened her eyes again. Then she began to write: A dreary, grey sky. My sunshine, drifting away. I reach out to grasp. "Now you try." She held out a paper, a pen, a flat surface to write on. Amanda took them mutely and grumbled. "Right now?" "When you're ready," her mother assured her. In the meantime, she opened her thermos and poured a cup. When she emptied it, her daughter began: I wished you were here. But what do I wish for now? I'm as lost as you. "Do you want it?" Amanda said, offering. Her mother poured another cup. "Trade you. It's tea." They drank, and read. The rain came back gently. Lucille smiled. "Director Talbot made that tea. I hope it's not too bitter." "It's fine," Amanda replied meekly. "I kind of like it." They drank another cup together in silence. Amanda sighed. (In any case, I think you should have a heart-to-heart with your mother.) - Close "Can I share something with you in confidence?" Bialowieski smiled at the level of trust Amanda was placing in him — or perhaps she felt she could only open herself up to a stranger, someone who didn't know her very well. Someone who would judge her impartially. "Of course. This conversation's being recorded, but I can arrange so that parts are redacted. The perks of being a senior member of staff here." Amanda took a moment to gather her thoughts. "Okay. The truth is…I don't know if I want to go back to being normal." Silence hung with her. Bialowieski waited patiently for her to continue. "Like…my mother's been paying a lot more attention to me now. She's there for me, like you said. It may just be a part of her job, but…it makes me feel important to her." Amanda squirmed, fidgeting, expressing volumes in her stilted discomfort. Bialowieski simply nodded. "And I kind of don't want this to go away. I mean, I do, but at the same time, I don't. Because then she'll…" Amanda frowned. Sighed. Looked away. "She won't have to be there for me. I mean…she won't have to," she emphasized with great acuity. "And if she doesn't have to, I…don't want things to go back to the way they were. Like does that even make sense? I want to be normal again but I don't want to, because…" Bialowieski nodded. "I think I understand. A part of you wants to remain in this state, since Lucy's giving you the time and attention she once deprived you of, and yet you're deprived of the freedoms granted to people your age, and you want that back — but if that happens, you're afraid she'll leave you alone again. Did I summarize it correctly?" She nodded. He sighed deeply. He, having never been particularly good with younger people, felt unqualified to dole out advice — and anything he did share would likely sound contrived, pretentious, or useless. This was, unfortunately, something the Riverson ladies would have to figure out on their own. "A very ambivalent state of affairs. In any case, I think you should have a heart-to-heart with your mother." "Hey, mom? Remember when I asked you what would happen if this anomalous thing went away?" She then recalled the paper and wrote something new on it: ANSWER ME. Lucille sighed. "Like I said, lots of red tape. You've seen the movie Men in Black, yes? Remember those devices they used to erase people's memory? We'd do something like that with you. Make you forget that you floated. Then you'd go back to your normal life, but you'd be monitored. By me," she assured her. "So you'd be around more often to keep an eye on me?" "Yes. Is that what you want?" The rain pittered, silvery harps drumming rhythmically. "What about your job?" "My work is certainly important to me," Lucille admitted. "But at least now you know why." "Yeah," Amanda grumbled. "I understand. But you'd still be…doing it, right?" "Ideally, yes." "But you wouldn't…be gone all the time, either?" "No, honey, I'd have to—" She caught herself. Looked up at her daughter's face. Reached out. Grabbed her sunshine. "I'd have to have words with Talbot. I'd insist that it would be in his best interest for me to take better care of you, just in case. Or even if there was no 'just in case'. I'd really put my foot down. And if he didn't agree?" Lucille beamed with triumphant love. "Then I'd give him a piece of my mind." They shared a laugh; Amanda let go of the post and hovered freely. "But I doubt I'd need to do anything so dramatic. Talbot's a good man; he'll understand. He wouldn't dare lose his best-and-only therapist due to a…misunderstanding." Her eyes glinted, and Amanda grinned. "But what if I'm stuck like this for the rest of my life?" she said, her face going dim. Her mother shrugged wistfully. "Then we'll just have to make the best of it. I know it's tough, but…" "It's fine, mom," she assured her, hovering closer. "I…I guess I'll get used to it." She hesitated, looked down, then faced her mother, smiling shyly. "If I have to." They decided to call it a day before the rain got too heavy. Lucille hesitated slightly as she stood up. "Amanda, I'd like to try one more thing. Humor me for a bit." "Sure, what is it?" Lucille held her palms out flat and joined her hands together, making a platform. She nodded to her daughter, who — still tethered — floated upward until her feet were level with her mother's hands. Then, she gave her tether a slight tug, propelling herself forward. Amanda pressed the soles of her shoes to her mother's open palms and stationed herself. She held still, gasping. Laughing. Crying. "Oh my god, I'm standing!" "Yep!" Lucille cried. "A real handstand!" "Oh my god, mom!!" They laughed until they cried, mother shakily holding her daughter. Amanda bounded away gently and attempted to land on solid ground. Her shoes were stubbornly repulsed. "Aww," she groaned, though her face was still lit beatifically in triumph. She let out a sigh. "Oh, well. That's good enough for now." Of course, the floor had to be mopped when they came back inside: one set of footprints, and a trail of droplets alongside it. Addendum: Director Talbot has granted SCP-8663-A permission to assist Dr. Riverson with minor tasks. 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SCP-8666 | safe | And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. hi crom i love you! by stormbreath Item#: 8666 Level2 Containment Class: safe Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8666 is to be kept within a standard Safe class anomalous object locker at Site-16. Individuals are only permitted to watch the film a single time to minimize repeat cognitohazard exposure. Photograph of Castle Caernog taken by Max Veidt shortly after production of SCP-8666. Description: SCP-8666 is a tape recording made by film director Marcus Roig, who perished in 1976 while producing an adaptation of The Masque of the Red Death by Edgar Allen Poe. This was to be a epic medieval horror adaptation which greatly expanded the plot. The first half of the film would focus on introducing six characters with independent narrative arcs that converged at a grand reverie thrown by Prince Prospero, which would comprise the second half of the film. Each character was thematically linked to one of the colors of the apartments from the original story — blue, purple, green, orange, white and violet. Prospero and the personification of the Red Death were each involved in the narratives of these plots, with the Red Death entity silently appearing in the background of several scenes, unacknowledged by the characters. Production of this adaptation (to be entitled An Age of Red Death) was a notorious disaster, and was well-publicized at the time. It is believed that most — if not all — of the problems encountered during production were the result of anomalous activity, of which SCP-8666 is one of the only elements that remains active. Contemporary Foundation involvement was able to prevent widespread dissemination of any specific details of anomalous interference, but the general public regarded the project as "cursed".1 This belief was helped by the release of the 1984 documentary "Roig's Red Death: A Fantasy", which was produced by the Foundation Department of Misinformation. Byam Shaw's illustration of the Red Death. Primary inspiration for appearance of Red Death used by Roig. SCP-8666 depicts an evidently unscripted scene of improv dialogue between Prince Prospero (played by Lukas Liston) and the Red Death (played by an unknown actor). Although the Red Death was played by actor Max Veidt during filming of An Age of Red Death, he has denied all involvement in the production of SCP-8666, and the costume fully obscures the wearer's identity. It is suspected — but not confirmed — that the Red Death depicted in SCP-8666 itself was an anomalous entity. The production quality of SCP-8666 is low, significantly lower than that of An Age of Red Death, and it appears that the scene is being filmed on a handheld camera operated by Marcus Roig himself, with no crew present other than the director and two actors. Roig can be audibly heard directing the scene. The scene opens with Prospero bemoaning his lack of impact in averting the ravages of the Red Death, and musing that perhaps his revels are enough to last as a memory of himself. The Red Death is then spotted in the corner of the room. It is unclear how the Red Death enters the scene (either from a production or diegetic capacity), as the door is visible during Prospero's monologue, and the Red Death was not previously visible. Upon noticing the Red Death, Prospero begins angrily lambasting it, before the Red Death swiftly walks forward and cleanly slices Prospero's throat2. The Red Death then sweeps a candelabra to the ground, causing the carpet to catch fire. Roig (holding the camera) flees the room, and the film ends. Anomalous effects begin when any person (henceforth referred to as "the viewer") watches the full video. Until the sun has next fully risen above the horizon in respect to the viewer's location, an anomalous figure wearing the Red Death costume will appear in all mirrors, reflections, photographs, and films containing the viewer. Fear responses upon observation are not anomalous, but believed to be wholly because of the appearance of the Red Death costume. It will typically appear at a distance, although it will steadily approach the viewer. Just before sunrise, it is typically almost touching the viewer's image. Timeline of Production Marcus Roig had desired to produce an adaption of Edgar Allen Poe's Masque of the Red Death since at least 1960, at the start of his film production career. Following the success of his 1975 adaptation of Steamboat Willie, Marcus Roig was given funding by Cornerstone Cinema to produce his long awaited adaptation. As Roig had already completed a script for the project in 1972 (co-authored with his longtime screenwriting partner Tetsuo Morgan), pre-production immediately began. Roig and Morgan flew to Europe to begin scouting locations for the film, while casting director Annette Sutton began to cast roles for the production. At this stage, she was primarily concerned with the lead roles of the film — Prince Prospero and the Red Death itself, both of which were to appear consistently throughout the film as well as crucially during the climax. For the role of the Red Death, Sutton quickly cast Max Veidt, who was best known for playing the villain/monster in numerous arthouse and B-movie horror films during the 60's and 70's. Veidt had worked with Roig before on his second film, the 1966 The Copycat!, but they had not worked together since, as Roig had focused on mainstream movies since. For the role of Prince Prospero, Sutton selected James McVane. This choice was apparently made due to studio direction from Cornerstone Cinema, who desired a well-known name to star in the film as the leading man. Sutton (and by phone, Roig) protested this choice, as the conventionally attractive McVane was a poor choice for their intended portrayal of Prince Prospero, who was seen as a repulsive hermit. Roig agreed to cast McVane under the condition that heavy makeup be applied, with Prince Prospero given significant wartime injuries. However, tragedy soon struck. Annette Sutton on James McVane's death, Roig's Red Death It was the strangest thing, you know. I was at dinner with him and Raphael Aldighieri — he was one of the producers we were working with at Cornerstone — to discuss the role. He hadn't signed on formally yet, as we were still trying to work things out with Marcus still in Europe doing his location scouting. That was a pain of its own, and look what we got out of it. But there we were at dinner, and just before the entrees came, James dismissed himself to go to the bathroom. Raphael and I were a bit worried — it wasn't public, but we both knew that James had something of a coke habit. It hadn't interfered with any of his last pictures to the best of our knowledge, but we were a little worried that it might be getting worse, if that was what he was leaving the table to do. I have to admit there was a little gossip, which turned a bit sour as Raphael accused me of trying to use that as an excuse to get James out of the role — he knew we were looking for someone who paired a little better with Max. I mean, James McVane as a dramatic horror victim, the true villain of the thing? He was such a pretty boy, a leading role absolutely but not the kind for the despot of Prospero. But then — then we heard screaming. I wish I could tell you we got up to check out the commotion but … well, we didn't think it had anything to do with us and it wouldn't be good if we got involved, would it? So we sat right where we were and joked we wished we had joined James for his coke break — it'd be a little excitement, you know. But then they started saying the name and oh my god. Oh my god. James had … well, I don't know. They were never that conclusive about what happened. One of the only witnesses said it looked like James had jumped, but another said it was like something pulled him through the window. We were on the tenth floor, so I have to just assume the second person had a little too much of their own. Declared dead on the scene when the ambulances arrived. You know, I turned to Raphael as soon as they rolled away and said, "Well, if the coke habit wasn't enough to get James out of the role, how about that?" Roig immediately returned from Europe — wrapping up the location scout early — to attend McVane's funeral. With McVane dead, and in such a dramatic and public manner, it was necessary to recast the role, but most of the leading men that Cornerstone was interested in acquiring were suddenly uninterested. Already, the production was viewed as cursed. Roig, eager to start filming, contacted a lifelong friend and his original choice, Lukas Liston, to play Prospero. Liston had a reputation as erratic and difficult to work with, and had just been fired from a production led by Steven Spielberg. Prospero was adapted back to a conventionally attractive man, as Liston refused the makeup required to play the character as a scarred veteran. Soon after the funeral of James McVane, and directly before filming started, Roig announced that An Age of Red Death was to be his last movie, a statement that came as a shock to many in the industry. Although no firm contracts had been settled, Roig had been tentatively scheduled to produce a number of upcoming productions and seemed to be at the peak of his career. Many were particularly confused by his refusal to discuss the sudden shift in attitude, or his plans for after the film was concluded. Many attached to the production linked his change in behavior to McVane's death, with several noting that he appeared to feel guilty for the death, despite no apparent relation. Filming began in May 1976 in Scotland. Another possible anomalous event soon ocurred, during a scene where Cyrano3 (thematically linked to the color blue) attempts to rescue several children from drowning in water tainted by the Red Death, one week into filming. The following testimony was collected by the Department of Misinformation from Giel Beek, the stunt coordinator for the film, but heavily edited for the final release of Roig's Red Death. Giel Beek on drowning accident, Roig's Red Death We're lucky that nobody died. Well, there, in that instance. Of course people died — some stretch the curse back to McVane, who I have to remind you wasn't even linked to the film at the time. That was just an unfortunate… accident, I suppose. Which, I suppose you could say this was as well, although I have my suspicions. Suspicions. No, I shouldn't say that, I know what happened, I saw it for myself, with my own two eyes. Few else on set really saw it. Danilo was too shook up after it happened to really give his account — and of course, he rationalized what happened to him. Vines, I think he said. Like vines can pull a grown man fully beneath the water. Like vines will leave bruising on your leg, in the shape of fingers. See, the problem is that nobody ever wants to confront the truth. Drowning, death, failure, the monster — all of these are things you would rather not see, and so you don't. Unless you're just an inch away, and then it is as clear as day. I could see it from the operating boom above the water — we were supposed to be getting an overhead shot of him swimming to rescue the children. They weren't in the water at the time, we hadn't filmed that yet. Fortunate. With John Landis's little accident a few years back, everyone assumes that the accident must have endangered the children. Not that we could have been at fault with this one, given, well. What is there to say? I saw something surge up beneath the water, grab Danilo and pull him down below the surface. I can't say what it was, but it looked like a person, and I saw how it reached its hand around his leg and pulled. He went down thrashing and the crew came in quick to pull him back out. Perhaps I caused a bit of a ruckus when I tried to tell everyone what I had seen. Perhaps I made that worse when I punched Marcus in the face when he wanted to incorporate it into his stupid movie. "So what if he almost died?" He said. "We're all dying anyway." Bam. Right hook to the face. After Farre's accident, Roig retreated into his trailer for two days and refused to emerge. Max Veidt — himself a director and well-respected among the cast and crew — directed second unit photography for these days, strictly following the script, although this move was contested by Lukas Liston, who similarly tried to direct second unit photography, although he did not have the same cachet as Veidt. After two days, Roig exited and apologized for the accidents on set, and alluded to the potential for more. Several crew members recounted that he appeared to take responsibilty for the death of James McVane, even though he had been in another country at the time and production had not yet begun. His apologies for the incident involving Farre also led to confusion, as it had seemed to be a largely avoidable and undramatic accident (overshadowed by Giel Beek assaulting Roig immediately after). Other than the sudden and mostly unexplained shift in personality from Roig, production continued as normal. Roig began to insist upon large changes to the script, greatly expanding several narrative arcs and filming additional hours of content for the first half of the film. Many began to doubt the practicality of this approach and whether the scenes would be included in the film, but it was not unheard for Roig to film considerably more content than needed and greatly edit the film down to a manageable duration. One of Roig's more erratic moments during production followed. Tetsuo Morgan on the mirror incident, Roig's Red Death There was an intended scene in which Verbena — the purple protagonist — was chased into a maze of mirrors by the Red Death, during a traveling carnival. We didn't get to film it. Roig completely shut down. We were setting up the scene, and Roig and myself were approaching the set, when he began screaming, and charged at one of the mirrors, smashing it to pieces with a hammer. I ran at him and pulled him back, trying to wrestle some kind of answer out of him for that, but he just kept screaming. He pointed all around, looking at all of the mirrors, and frantically ordering that they all be destroyed. I pulled him back to his trailer and sat him down, trying to knock some sense into him. He refused to speak to me until I threw a cloth over the mirror in the trailer, and in the bathroom and even then — nothing. He just told me that we'd have to cut the scene, he'd write something else. I offered to help. You have to realize, despite everything he was doing, I still thought of him as my friend, and my primary intention was taking care of him. Before I left the trailer, he looked at me and said — we have to get rid of all the mirrors. I can't leave until you do. I still have no idea what he saw in them. Production costs continued to mount. Inclement weather required extensions to shooting, Roig proved to be uncharacteristically hostile and abrasive to his cast and crew (leading to several fights, firings and replacements), and the vision for scenes frequently changed midshoot. In one notable incident, Roig elected to hire the entire population of a small hamlet to play background characters in a scene where the Marquis de Laster (the character representing white) rides through a plague infested village with Prince Prospero. This scene would only last approximately fifteen seconds in the final cut, and had already been filmed with a smaller amount of extras. Cornerstone pictures repeatedly threatened to cut Roig's funding, and finally declared production would only be allowed to continue if the film moved from its more expensive (and less narratively important) opening half to the climax. This was a calculated move by Cornerstone to force Roig from continuing to expand and alter the script of the film, as the scenes set at Prince Prospero's abbey had a single location, limited cast, and practically no special effects. Reluctantly, Roig ended the first phase of photography, and the entire cast came to Castle Caernog to finish the production. Even in this stage, Roig was making constant edits to the script. Tetsuo Morgan — having been given strict instructions from Cornerstone — rejected most of these adaptations, leading to frequent fighting. On several occassions, Roig delivered type-written copies of his new script to actors and filmed new sequences without studio oversight. The most anomalous event of production occurred in the final days of filming. As recounted by Harriet Full, a grip operator: Harriet Full on the film incident, Roig's Red Death To this day I have no idea what could have caused something like that. There were a number of theories, but everyone was really just fooling themselves. There was a lot of that at the end, as we all kind of realized that the film was a dead man walking. We hadn't been officially canned yet, production hadn't been shut down — but it was clear that Cornerstone was going to spend several long hours with this film on the chopping block to make something out of it to reclaim what meager investment it could. Probably a low-grade horror movie, knowing the names attached, with only a passing resemblance to the actual story. That's my theory for the camera thing, anyway. The psychic aura we were causing on the set corrupted the film, and made us all look like corpses on it. Mind over matter, right? I've read a lot about how our brains emit waves into the world that can affect our surroundings — its how telepathy and telekinesis and astral projection work — so I think even though nobody on the set was a psychic, we all had a bit of an effect on it, and collectively we equated to one depressed, morbid psychic. It is the most logical explanation I can muster for why we all looked like corpses on the last day of filming. I was quite the sight myself, all burned to a crisp! You'd expect that from more, given what happened later that night, but everyone was a corpse in different ways. Lukas had a bullet wound in his head, Tetsuo was bleeding everywhere. The funniest was Max Veidt — he looked like he'd died of old age, peacefully. Pale and thin, but nothing else. Weird guy, that one. Back to the mood, at least. It was pretty grim on set. Our psychic presence was causing omens of ill end, and the omens were making the mood worse, causing an even worse psychic presence. Everyone was depressed, everyone was freaked out, everyone wanted to leave. Nobody wanted to even acknowledge what was happening on the film. Roig told us to scrap it, we wouldn't film that day, keep the rest of the cast and crew from freaking out. Thank god we only had one more day, we all said. Just finish this out, and it's Roig's problem to fix in post. The final day of filming was scheduled for the next day. This would be the penultimate scene of the movie, and one of the few directly based on Poe's original short story, in which Prince Prospero runs through the mansion, attempting to kill the apparation of the Red Death. According to Roig's vision, this was to be a single continuous tracking shot, and a great deal of coordination was in place to ensure that the camera could be rolled through the various rooms, capturing the revelers. The general attitude of the crew, at this point, was already grim. With the various troubles of production encountered so far (as well as the growing and vocal displeasure of Cornerstone with how overbudget the film was), it was seeming more and more unlikely that the film would be ultimately edited and released. Many believed that, even if released, it would be a box office bomb that would destroy the careers of much of the cast. Still, with only a single day of filming remaining, the crew retired for the night. That night, Marcus Roig filmed SCP-8666 with Lukas Liston, capturing the start of a fire that would burn down Castle Caernog. Several members of the cast and crew perished in this fire. One of the few who saw Roig during this time was Max Veidt, whose account follows. Max Veidt on the fire, Roig's Red Death I awoke in the middle of the night to a hideous heat and the screaming of my fellows. Evidently, I was one of the last to awaken, for I have always been a deep sleeper. The door knob to my room was already too hot to be touched, and I was forced to consider an alternate means of fleeing the castle, into the cold and dark snowdrifts that surrounded us. It is to my fortune that I have been in the custom of keeping a pitcher of water by my bedside, and so I was able to douse the fabrics of the room and block the door with wetness, keeping the smoke at bay and allowing me a moment of thought. For egress, I was forced to turn to the windows. Woefully for myself, I had requested a room in the highest reaches of the castle, wishing to enjoy the views. This was a move that could have proven my death, had I not been a cunning man of action. You see, although my room did not have a balcony, the ledge underneath the window was easily one foot in width. I bundled myself in my warmest fabrics and ventured into the cold, securing myself upon that precarious edge. Like Dracula and his lizard fashion, I scaled along the wall to further down, hoping that one of the windows on this level would permit access to a portion of the castle not engulfted in fire. With characteristic Veidt luck, the window three down from my own revealed an open door and while the light of the fire was visible, the flames themselves were not. I smashed it open with the handle of my knife, a tool I carry at all times, and opened the window to enter. I knew the stairs down were in the direction not exposed by the fire, and I could safely use them, so I headed in that direction. Looking back down the hall, flames had entirely begun to engulf my room — I was only moments away from funerary pyre. Venturing further down, I heard screaming. I am led to believe that I was one of, if not the last, to emerge from the castle that night, and so it is to my understanding no one else heard those screams. It was clearly Marcus, ranting with some unheard entity, blaming it for the destruction of the castle and the fire that engulfed it. I do not take it to have been the irrational delusions and ranting of hallucinating man, but rather hold I could not hear the other person, whoever it might be. Marcus would pause, and then return, rather than the unbroken and continuing nonsense one would expect from a man arguing with himself. It was not long before I came to the grand staircase, itself already enveloped in flames. I knew then that the castle would burn entirely, and much like the film there was no saving it. I could only hope that all those inside had managed to escape. Then, I heard a voice behind me — Marcus. He called to me, and asked if I had seen Max Veidt, myself. I turned and screamed that I was here, and we needed to escape. He looked at me in shock, muttering some remark about how I had changed from costume so quickly, a comment the nature of which eludes me to this day. I told him I would wear no costumes any longer, for this film had finally come to the inevitable conclusion. This was the most harrowing moment, when he lifted his camera and turned back to face the fire. I'll never forget his final words: "No, the film has finally redeemed itself." Without any desire to remain there and see what he had planned, I dashed out the front doors. The rest of the crew were nearby, and assumed myself to have died. The sudden manifestation of my visage caused incredible ruckus, and many assumed myself to be a ghost. I assured them I was no spectre, but with heavy heart confirmed they could count Marcus among the wraiths. The Foundation was already aware of the possible anomalous nature of production and quickly intervened upon hearing of the fire, preventing local authorities from becoming involved. Upon discovery that distinctly anomalous experiences had not been encountered by the surviving cast and crew, the Foundation allowed most to leave and began a physical investigation of Castle Caernog. The corpse of Marcus Roig was soon discovered in the wreckage, as he was found hanged from a rafter in a portion of the castle at the center otherwise unaffected by the blaze. Signs of a significant physical struggle have led to the suspicion that Roig was murdered by an unknown party, rather than suicide. Who this might be is unclear. SCP-8666 was found in the camera at Marcus's feet. No other anomalous effects were discovered within Castle Caernog. Footnotes 1. As with standard protocol for the general acceptance of the anomalous, belief in this curse is not typically sincere. 2. Given the circumstances of production, this is not believed to be a special effect. 3. Played by actor Danilo Farre. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8666" by stormbreath, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8666. 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: reddeath.jpeg, reddeath-crom.jpeg Name: Poe red death byam shaw Author: Byam Shaw License: Public domain Source: Wikimedia Commons Filename: castlecaernog.jpg Name: Baranof Castle burning, Sitka, 1894 (AL+CA 288) Author: Unknown License: Public domain Source: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-8668 | safe | We really elect anyone these days huh. Item#: SCP-8668 Level2 Containment Class: safe Secondary Class: {$secondary-class} Disruption Class: dark Risk Class: notice link to memo SCP-8668 in containment (2013). Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8668 is contained within a standard domestic animal enclosure at Site-58. SCP-8668 must be fed twice a day and walked once a week in accordance to its standard care schedule. Any personnel in charge of walking SCP-8668 are to carry a biohazard containment bag with them at all times during the walk. Should SCP-8668 vomit at any time within or outside of containment, the contents should be placed in a biohazard containment bag and brought to Site-58's Zoological Studies Department for further review alongside a member of the Foundation's legal team. Description: SCP-8668 is a Golden Retriever of indeterminate age. While SCP-8668's specific age is unknown, firsthand accounts of the anomaly date back to as early as 1825. Physically, SCP-8668 is comparable to an average Golden Retriever of between 10-11 years of age. Whenever SCP-8668 vomits, it produces a document containing legal mandates. These texts are often poorly constructed, containing numerous grammatical errors. While the "laws" presented in these texts are often nonsensical in nature, the text itself contains clear action plans for the enforcement of the law with few, if any, loopholes that could be exploited by malicious actors. Addendum 8668.1: Discovery SCP-8668 was originally discovered in the town of Rayfield, Wisconsin1 on August 31st, 1989, where it had been serving as the mayor since 1977. The town came to Foundation attention following the televised broadcast of the following advertisement for SCP-8668's reelection campaign. <Begin Video> Footage opens with SCP-8668 sitting in a field. A gust of wind lightly tousles its fur. Voiceover: This November, your vote couldn't be clearer. The video cuts to SCP-8668 running down a sidewalk chasing a squirrel. Voiceover: Since the early days of our town, Old Soggy has been there for us. She's stood by us through our hardest times, and guided us to the prosperity we enjoy today. Footage cuts to a clip of SCP-8668 and a baby. SCP-8668 licks the top of its head. The baby giggles. Voiceover: There for us as early as our town founding in 1825, Old Soggy has never once misled us. Her town charter gave us Rayfield, and her legal know-how has made it into the home we know and love to this day. The video cuts to SCP-8668 sitting with its paw resting atop a Bible. Voiceover: Josephine Allens, however, would disrespect that legacy. She would remove Old Soggy from the legislature, and subject us to laws and regulations regurgitated by outsiders. Footage cuts to a black and white image of Josephine Allens, SCP-8668's electoral opposition, in the process of leashing a dog. It then cuts back to an image of SCP-8668 sitting in front of an American Flag. Voiceover: This November, put your faith in a tried and true voice. Put your faith in someone who believes in this community. Put your faith in Old Soggy. She's got the law in her. Video cuts to footage of SCP-8668 vomiting up a document. When it finishes, it looks to the camera and barks. The document's text reads "Vote for Old Soggy." Voiceover: Old Soggy, man's best friend. Paid for by the council to re-elect Old Soggy. Footage finishes with an image of SCP-8668 facing towards the camera. <End Video.> Final shot from video, digitally enhanced. Following this broadcast, Foundation agents were sent to Rayfield to recover SCP-8668. It was discovered in the town's mayoral office in the middle of drafting a new bill, allowing agents to confirm its anomalous nature. It was taken into containment on August 14th, 1989, and the citizens of Rayfield, Wisconsin were amnescized. Addendum 8668.2: Abbreviated list of laws Below is an abbreviated list of laws and legal mandates produced by SCP-8668 prior to and following Foundation containment. Year Title Description 1825 Small Town Build It First recorded document produced by SCP-8668. Aside from grammatical oddities, review shows it is one of the most legally well constructed town charters in history. This charter would undergo exactly 1 revision in the following years. 1843 Many Write Good Book OK Act Required all town residents to write and contribute at least one book to the town's library every 3 years. 1856 Pennies Go Away Now Mandate Demanded that the town melt down all pennies and use the resulting metal to craft pipes, replacing the plumbing that existed in their homes at the time. The law mandated that this be completed no later than 18572 Mandate was completed on schedule, and the town saw a decline in bacterial infections in the following years. 1890 Many Frogs Now Act Required all residents carry a toad3 in their coat pocket at all times. Town experienced a notable decline in mosquito-born illnesses following this law's implementation. 1907 Many Cats Yes Act Asks all residents to adopt at least 1 cat. Document notably contains heavy swearing throughout, specifically when referring to cats. In the years following this mandate, the rat population of Rayfield experienced a sharp decline. 1910 Yucky Wash Hands Mandate Required all residents to wash their hands with soap and water before meals and after using the restroom. It is believed that this increased attentiveness to health resulted in the town reporting a notably low rate of infection during the Great Influenza epidemic of 1918. 1956 Teach Good Now Act Law desegregates both schools in town, and sets forth a curriculum based in what were then modern educational practices. 1970 Small Town Build It Part 2 Only law designed specifically to make changes to the town charter. Only notable change is the inclusion of language that specifically does not prohibit dogs from holding office. Following SCP-8668's containment in 1989, it continued to produce new legal documents. These were not forwarded to the town of Rayfield. Year Title Description 1990 Remove Yucky Strings From House Mandate First law produced following SCP-8668's containment. Law demands the removal of asbestos from all homes in Rayfield. While asbestos received a partial ban in 1989 on the national level, this law contained more complex bans that would not see similar national legislation until 2024. 1991 Put Dog Back Mandate First law directly addressing the Foundation. Law requests that the Foundation return SCP-8668 to Rayfield. Following review by the Foundation legal team, a minor loophole was discovered that allowed for the continued containment of SCP-8668. 1993 Make House Better Act Requires all homes in Rayfield undergo flame-treatment, and requires that home insulation be replaced with cellulose insulation that has undergone borate fireproofing. 1994 Put Dog Back NOW Mandate A rewrite of the 1991 "Put Dog Back Mandate" that removes the previously discovered legal loophole. While the Foundation legal team was unable to identify new loopholes that would allow the continued containment of SCP-8668, the Foundation has chosen not to comply with the mandate. 1994 Dig Big Hole Act Requires residents to dig a large trench that completely surrounds the town, excluding major highways and roads, that has a minimum width equal to the tallest tree within 50 feet plus one foot. 1994 Good Girl Go Home Please Please Please Mandate Outlines a specific plan for the Foundation to return SCP-8668 to Rayfield, Wisconsin in a way that would allow minimal damage to the veil. Denied, as it would still permit the town to be aware of SCP-8668 1994 Wet Plants Send Please Mandate Outlines a new irrigation plan for Rayfield designed to help combat drought weather alongside text requesting the Foundation send the mandate to the town. Request was denied. Addendum 8668.3: Incident Report On July 16th, 1994, SCP-8668 became unresponsive. A health examination revealed no abnormalities, and that it was otherwise alive and healthy. Foundation investigation revealed that the change in SCP-8668's behavior coincided with the destruction of approximately 60% of the town of Rayfield, Wisconsin. Investigations revealed that the town had largely been destroyed in an uncontrolled wildfire sparked by drought conditions. After three weeks, SCP-8668 was caught on cameras rising to its feet and vomiting out another document. The document's contents have been recorded below. Year Title Description 1994 Dog Stay In Box Overturns the 1994 "Put Dog Back NOW Mandate", allowing the Foundation to contain SCP-8668 in perpetuity. SCP-8668 has produced no further documents since. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8668" by OriTiefling, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8668. 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: doginsuit.jpg Author: Queerious License: CC by SA 4.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:James_Paterson_Portrait.jpg - Licensed under CC by SA 4.0 https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Caleb_Fisher_2015_(Unsplash).jpg - Licensed under Public Domain Notes: Dogy :) Filename: dog2.png Author: Brandt Luke Zorn License: CC by SA 2.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:15_year_old_golden_retriever.JPG Notes: Dogy :) Footnotes 1. Pop. 536 in 1989. 2. Notably, 1857 is the last year that pennies produced by the U.S. Mint were 100% copper. 3. Notably, they are legally not considered a species of frog. |
SCP-8682 | neutralized | An improbable misadventure. Content warning: Substance Abuse, Abuse ▸ More by this Author ◂ {$comments2} F.A.Q. {$doesthisfixthebug} A routine object retrieval for an otherwise harmless object turns into a chaotic disaster. Does our hero have the spine to follow through? Item #: SCP-8682 Special Containment Procedures: When not undergoing research or experimentation, SCP-8682's remains are secured within a standard Level 3 containment locker inside Storage Chamber 198D at Site-73. The chamber is to maintain constant temperature and humidity levels to minimize degradation. SCP-8682 Description: SCP-8682 resembles a headless, 11 week old human fetus. SCP-8682 is calcified and exhibits complete cephalothoracic fusion. SCP-8682 is 4.5 cm in length, has a craniocaudal length of 8 cm, and a weight of 20g. SCP-8682 is stored in a 15x15cm archival plastic container. The container is stained with green bile and red with blood, fluids discharged from the liver of SCP-8682 immediately before its death. Also contained within this discharge were significant amounts of cerebrospinal fluid and elevated levels of melatonin. SCP-8682 was contained in an artificial fluoropolymer womb, nutrition provided through a tank of nutrient dense hydrogel. Contained within the womb is also an artificial placenta constructed from inorganic materials. The womb has been considered for its own separate documentation, although current investigation does not support an anomalous nature. The outer layer of the womb is damaged in several spots with what are presumed to be snake bites. 11/13/2024 - The hydrogel supporting SCP-8682 is completely drained. The presiding research team is not capable of maintaining the microfluidic and filtering devices used in the womb. Researchers estimate the fluid in the womb will be completely depleted in 7 days. The womb at this point already contained dangerous amounts of ammonia. 11/16/2024. - SCP-8682 began to calcify gradually in a radius centered around its pineal gland. The brain death of SCP-8682 was confirmed shortly afterward. CT imaging reveals the inside of SCP-8682 to be completely calcified, although portions of the liver remain intact. Physical dissection is currently awaiting approval from the Site Director. Before its death, SCP-8682 was otherwise a typical 11 week old fetus, with some differences. Aside from its cephalothoracic fusion, SCP-8682’s spinal and intestinal development was non-existent, and no evidence of these structures could be detected with medical imaging. The primary anomalous property of SCP-8682 was its chromosomal structure. X or Y chromosomes were not present, and further investigation has revealed aberrations in its genetic assembly. This includes an irregular, spherical chromosomal scaffolding, and the closed loop of its polynucleotide chains. These are colloquially referred to by researchers as a “fractal helix”. 11/18/2024. Concerns Regarding the Genome Project Due to the complexity of this sequencing (I use the word complexity leniently, insomuch as scribbling is complex), I am hesitant to write a budget to submit to the O5 command. I would not be surprised if mapping of this genome took 13 years, and even then this effort would require the effort of dozens of institutes around the world, legions of biological computation experts, and while I don’t know the Foundation’s exact budget, I doubt that it’s the annual scientific budget of every high income economy on earth. Even for the purpose of R&D, insofar as we would want to parcel the advancement of genetics, it would be for the advancement of completely irrelevant genetics. This is a scientific idiot trap. -Dr. Crow, Presiding Researcher History: SCP-8682 was first discovered on 11/08/2024, at 3:45 AM, in Laurel Hollow, NY, US, in an office space retrofitted with biomedical equipment on Browns Rd in Oyster Bay. The Foundation received an anonymous tip. These channels were disseminated and are almost exclusively used by informants within organizations involved in genomics. Trace: (516) 931-9390, Oyster Bay Train Station 40.875, -73.534 Agent Breen located SCP-8682 in a secured back room at the designated location. The area was devoid of furniture and occupants, and forensic samples could not be recovered. The building was unpowered and did not receive running water. The equipment the artificial womb SCP-8682 was contained in functioned with a small gas generator. The office space was owned by a defunct LLC “Past Futures'', which was composed of one deceased individual operating out of Hungary. This individual could not be verified in public records. Footage of the payphone at the train station in Oyster Bay did not reveal anyone present. However, one individual was present on Tuesday, November 8, 2021, at 3:45, 3:50 am in local solar time (exactly three years prior to the recovery effort). Containment History: An irregularity occurred during the transfer of SCP-8682 to Site-58, involving Agent Breen. Agent Breen was instructed to deliver SCP-8682 to the nearest site in Nanticoke, Pennsylvania. When Agent Breen first received the call from dispatch, while on reserve duty, he was indisposed in some manner undisclosed, and at first refused the call. Refusal of the call from an agent is a historical deviation for Foundation personnel. Had Agent Breen persisted in his refusal, it would have necessitated involving local law enforcement personnel, which could have compromised the object's securement and led to further complications. When threatened with termination and disciplinary action, Breen conceded and departed by 3:17 from the East Norwich Inn. His estimated time of arrival was 3:31, however, Agent Breen did not arrive until 3:45. At 3:30, while en route, Breen was contacted by his acting partner, Agent Ortega. The following is a transcript of a portion of their exchange. Transcript Hide [03:31:03] Breen: Ortega? [03:31:03] Breen: I’m so fucked. [03:31:03] Ortega: Calm down. Calm. Down. [03:31:02] Breen: I’m at McDonalds. I had to go to the bathroom. [03:31:07] Breen: I’m sorry. It’s so fucking hard man. [03:31:08] Ortega: What are you talking about? Are you crying? [03:31:12] Breen: [Sound of another individual shouting, telling him to get out of a bathroom stall.] I paid! Here! Look! At the fucking McNuggets! [03:31:15] Ortega: Get in the goddamn van! Get to the target two minutes ago! [03:31:17] Breen: I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to die. Fuck these people. I’m gonna run, man. [03:31:23] Ortega: Okay. Don’t say that. That is the worst thing you could do. You do not want to fuck with these people. Get. To. The. Target. This is the best thing you can do right now. We can find a way out for you, we just have to go through the right process. [03:31:25] Breen: I won’t make it on time. [03:31:26] Ortega: There's a… fuck man… There's a police radar in the glove compartment. Drop your plates. Turn it on. Just do this for me? I’m on the line too. Please. Haul. Fucking. Ass. [03:31:28] Breen: [Sounds of gulping.] Fuck it. Accident presumed to have been caused by Agent Breen at 3:33. After crossing a four way intersection, Agent Breen merged onto a one way road. The individual narrowly avoided Breen, crashing into a fire hydrant. There was heavy rain at this time which may have obscured vision. Those involved only sustained minor injuries. After this incident, there was radio silence from Breen from 3:33 to 5:00. Excerpt from Stage One of Breen’s Disciplinary Hearing: 11/08/2024 Excerpt Hide Dr. Mayreder: I know there are ugly rumors about how our organization handles these kinds of things, but rest assured the only disciplinary action will be a termination of employment, or, the worst case scenario, a mild amnestic regimen. This is unprecedented, as well, and because of your long and earnest service at the Foundation there will be some leniency. I’m also vouching for you personally and I believe these are extraordinary circumstances. We just need to know what happened after you recovered SCP-8682. Breen: I’m so sorry Virgil. I really fucked up. Dr. Mayreder: It’s fine, just talk to me. Breen: When I woke up, the van was halfway through the building on Browns Rd. And… I forgot my equipment so I had to break in through the window. I think someone heard me too because the lights came on in the other building next to us. God. I’m just so…. Why me? Don’t we have other agents in the area? Why did this all have to happen? Dr. Mayreder: First things first. They didn’t hear you breaking through the window. They heard your van collide with a brick wall. As for your question, we have about 30 reserve field agents in New York. In your case there were 3 agents about 2 hours away in either direction. The object was considered a low threat level and it wasn’t exactly time sensitive. Hell, it was just a tip, we didn’t even know if something was there. In fact, the object is currently neutralized and it’s probably headed to cold storage. It hardly warrants classification. The fact that we’re both sitting in this room right now is, frankly, it’s wild. Breen: After Sanders died… Dr. Mayreder: And I cleared you from psych eval. And you asked to be sent back into the field. And I okayed it. And I owned up to it. We’re all in the shit. We could make excuses for days. Tell me what happened. Breen: Okay. Like I said, someone heard me. So I move faster. Uh, I cut myself a little bit on the window. My hand was bleeding and. I moved to the rear of the building, there was a padlock on the door there. I was scared as hell. I was prepared for anything to jump out at me. I fought every urge in my body to get out of there. My mind was everywhere. I… I have to be up front I guess. I was probably… tripping as well. Dr. Mayreder: You weren't drunk? You were on psychedelics? Breen: No, I was also drunk. Dr. Mayreder: Continue. Breen: Okay. That’s when I hear the police sirens. So now I’m not just scared, but angry. You guys didnt even fucking clear me. Dr. Mayreder: The officers that responded to the scene were from a completely different jurisdiction than the ones we told to look the other way. We notified Long Island. The Highway Patrol were dispatched after a local saw and heard you collide with a building. We’ve mostly handled that already. Our ongoing problems are with local law enforcement and the strain on the disinformation department resulting from the damage when you fled from NYSP, the chase, the coinciding attack from the anomalies, emergency activation of the MTF, the multiple civilian casualties from when you were attacked during the chase, and the brutal eradication of a regiment of Nu-7. Breen: I did get the object back. Dr. Mayreder: Okay. Let’s take a break. And then you can explain -we can explain- why 20 miles of highway just 10 miles from the most populous city in the US is now a red zone. Addendum 0: Itemized Budget Snippet Snippet Hide New Order: 11/10/2024 Personnel: Nu-7 (30 Individuals): Training: $4,500,000 Housing: $900,000 Food: $240,360 Medical (Inc. Augmentation): $885,900 Salary: $3,600,000 Risk Assessment: [Alternate Budget] Equipment: 29 Experimental SCAR-C: $95,700 (1) CheyTac Intervention: $11,000 M-10-8C $4,500 DARPA TARS HS Goggles: $3,000,000 (1) EVO MAX 4T-S: $8,999.00 30 Fitted Ceramic-IE Armor (TK) [Alternate Budget] Ford Transit: $53,620 Field Agent, Officer (1) Training: $1,020,000 Housing: $28,440 Food: $7,500 Medical: N/A [Alternate Budget] Salary: $140,000 $14,496,019 - This does not include the disinformation budget. Pending 05 deliberation on something called a "Broken Veil" protocol, there may not be a budget at all, or a downsizing of the Disinfo team. Thanks. Pending creation of an SCP-8682 Budget. Paul I need the TPS reports as well. This does not include insurance payouts to their families, or the civilian payouts, and I need those. Get with Foundation Accounting. -Bayes Addendum A: Incident 8682. 11/08/2024 4:50 Police Dashcam Footage of NYSP Deputy Alexis Walker. Highway 80, west of Hackensack, NY. Transcript Hide Agent Breen’s van is visible ahead. The road is congested with traffic. Walker pulls ahead of Breen and attempts to locate a front license plate. Walker decelerates and pulls behind Breen’s vehicle. Walker: “10-41, Unit 3 requesting to initiate a traffic stop on a black 2023 Ford Transit with no front or rear license plates, extensive damage to the front of the vehicle. Possible suspect. Irregular driving. Currently westbound on Highway 80 near Saddle Brook… Windows are tinted. I want an assist.” Simultaneously, another unmarked white van approaches Breen from the driver’s side. An arm extends out of the window and motions for Breen to roll down his window. Breen continues driving for one minute. A pistol emerges from the passenger’s side of the white van, and takes what is presumed to be a warning shot. Breen swerves, cutting off a car to his right, causing it to collide with a pylon and causing a pile up behind him. Walker narrowly swerves past the crash. Walker: "10-81! Unit 3 requesting immediate backup on highway 80 westbound near Elmwood park. Vehicle assault in progress. Suspect vehicle is a white van, a Ford E150, I’m hanging in the rear. I’m in the unmarked black Chevrolet Tahoe.” A creature emerges from the white van. It is difficult to see due to the quality of the dashcam and Walker’s distance from the vehicles. It is roughly 1 meter long, and resembles a snake with ribbed wings and exaggerated spinous processes. It balances itself against the van with its wings and coils, then crashes directly through Breen’s window. Breen’s van begins driving erratically, swerving left and right. The vehicle briefly grinds against a barrier. Walker: I think… What was that? The snakelike creature’s head emerges from the van with a translucent, basketball sized object in its mouth, presumed to be SCP-8682’s artificial womb. The white van pulls closer and the figure inside reaches out to grab SCP-8682. The snake creature is grabbed by the neck and pulled back into Breen’s van just as it's about to leap. The white van rams the side of Breen’s vehicle. Sirens can be heard in the background. Walker: “Finally. I’m going to attempt to initiate a stop. White Ford E150. No, I’m gonna say the transit from earlier is not a priority. Yes it’s involved.” Walker begins closing distance with the white van. Breen’s van appears to have regained stability. Walker activates her siren. Walker: “Pull over immediately! White E150! Stop immediately! This is the police!” The white van pulls away from Breen and begins accelerating. Breen’s van rocks right, then left, then right again, then sharply veers left, spins a handbrake turn, collides with the median on his passenger side, rolling his vehicle into the oncoming lane. He then accelerates into the highway 19 exit and disappears from view. Police cars can be heard approaching Walker from the rear. Walker: “What are the fucking odds-. 10-80, Unit 3, initiating PIT maneuver on suspect vehicle E150! Westbound on highway 80. Repeat, I get to- I am initiating a PIT maneuver on the suspect vehicle, white E150.” Dispatch: Negative. We see you up ahead. Try and find the black Transit. We’re going to try a box in. Walker: [mumbling] Got it. Addendum B: Portion of transcript of an interrogation with an individual involved in incident 8682. Agent Popescu reluctantly volunteered due to her potential knowledge of the subject matter. She is accompanied by Agent Ortega. The individual identifies himself as “Xix’s Xix” and has been chemically assisted to facilitate communication. Transcript Hide Agent Popescu: Where did the friend go? Answer questions. Xix’s Xix: He ran off. Don’t know. In the woods. Police got him? Agent Popescu: Why attack the man in the black van? Xix’s Xix: He stole our new framework. All cosmic wounds in one body. A spinal quarry. Agent Popescu: (turns to Agent Ortega) Oh, yeah, I think I know these guys. They do say this kind of shit. Xix’s Xix: We just wanted him to stop the van. I don’t want to kill anyone. I don’t want a body on me. Not in my contract. That was our little spine’s job. Agent Popescu: Okay. What did he steal? Plainly. Speak plainly. No riddle. Just say what the thing is. Xix’s Xix: I’m Xix’s Xix. They don’t tell me what I don’t need to know. They tell me riddles too. They told me the thing is “universal pain”. “Star trauma”. I don’t know what that means. I know lots of other stellar noun-synonym combos too; I can keep going. “Galaxial ache”. That sounds good too, a good band name at least? Agent Popescu: (turns to Agent Ortega) He’s not lying. This one is only as good as his function. Tell me who is Xix, and what is a Xix. I don’t know that. I was not paying attention in that class. Xix’s Xix: A hand. Xix is a hand. And a palindrome. A loop. I am a hand’s hand. Agent Popescu: Who is your hand? Xix’s Xix: Another hand. Ask me who’s hand he is. Agent Popescu: Who do you represent? I think I already know the answer to the question. Xix’s Xix: (Xix’s Xix scans Popescu’s arms and laughs.) The answer got to know you. Agent Popescu suddenly strikes Xix’s Xix in the face, and is later found to have slightly fractured his skull. Agent Ortega moves to restrain her. Agent Ortega: Alright this is over. We need him! Get off of him- Interview Concluded Excerpt from Stage Two of Breen’s Disciplinary Hearing: 11/08/2024 Excerpt Hide Agent Breen: I somehow managed to evade the cops. I don’t know how I hopped that barrier. Adrenaline? I couldn’t believe it. The whole time I had that fucking… snake worm thing in a vice grip between my legs. Have you guys seen that thing? Nightmare noodles. No skin! Where's its skin? It’s somewhere on the road feeding vultures right now. It’s probably gonna make em’ sick. Dr. Mayreder: The incident is very recent. Five hours recent. We are only just now reviewing things like police dash cam footage. What happened after that? Agent Breen: I choked it. It took a while. Thing was strong. I was steering with my knees, strangling this thing with my two bloody hands and hauling ass. Bloodied up my thighs with those spikes on its spine. I hurt like shit. Dr. Mayreder: You look like shit. You threw it out of the window, didn’t you? You were on a very busy highway. Did any other motorists see you illegally dump this anomalous creature out of your driver side window? Agent Breen: I wasn’t thinking. No… I don’t think so. Okay. Yes. But they probably just thought it was just a snake. Dr. Mayreder: Every few moments I have to stop myself from saying just how… surprising. Farcical. Disappointing, this all is. So I’m just going to say it. You’ve made fools of everyone in this organization. Please continue. Agent Breen: Alright. I am checking the damage on the object now, and I see that it’s intact. I was worried that the snake would damage 8682 when it grabbed it. I didn’t have to pull the snake back in, you know, it wasn’t even attacking me until that point. Dr. Mayreder: Yes. Yes you had to pull the “snake” back in. That’s your job. Are you still high? Agent Breen: I contain safe class objects, and yet, [Breen begins shouting] every other job I am sent on has me maimed, transfigured, and psychologically violated. Do you know how I felt when I broke open that door and I looked in to see, once again - its yet another fucked up fetus! Five times! Five times you sick fuck! Probably in the same fucking trimester! Is this your idea of a joke? I have thermonuclear PTSD from these things! Every neuron in my brain is howling at me not to approach this thing, let alone delicately cradle it and sit next to it for five fucking hours, worried, mind in a blender, at what this little bitch is going to do me! You all should be licking my fucking boots at the -heroic- fucking willpower I exert every day just to walk in that god damn door. I hope this whole world gets sucked down the fucking hole. The insurgency was right! Fuck all of you! Dr. Mayreder: You are assigned to these specific jobs because you have expertise with the subject matter. Breen opens his mouth and eyes wide in an expression of disbelief, gets up, and throws a chair to the side of the room, then lunges across the table, grabbing Dr. Mayreder by the collar. He is subdued by site security. Dr. Mayreder: It’s okay, he’s not going to… It’s okay. I’m… Addendum C: Body cam footage from Alexis Walker. 11/08/2024 5:20 - 6:00 Highway 80, Shades of Death Rd, Ghost Lake, Fairy Cave. Independence Township, NJ. Transcript Hide It’s raining heavily. Walker approaches Breen’s van in a ditch on the side of the highway. She inspects the vehicle, examining blood on the driver’s seat and the broken driver’s window. She steps away from the vehicle and walks toward the lake, briefly looking at the street sign on Shades of Death Rd, which is covered in some type of black oil. Walker: Who the hell names these things? The lake is obscured by trails of vapor and a low layer of fog, in addition to the early morning darkness. Walker points her flashlight at footprints leading toward the lake and slowly follows them. There is a loud wet crack coming from the direction of the footprints. She looks around, stops for a moment and pulls out her gun. Walker: This is stupid. An object in the darkness slowly begins to appear through the fog. Walker raises her gun and steadies it at the shadows. After a moment the obscured creature is revealed to be a buck. The buck notices Walker and quickly darts away. Walker continues down the trail toward a small cave. A man is heard cursing up ahead. Walker: I’m pursuing a subject on foot. They’re in a wooded area. Low visibility, lots of fog. Off Shades of Death Road, just a little bit into Ghost Lake. I think they’re at the cave. Possibly injured. They could have a weapon? Could have anything honestly. Walker slowly walks toward the cave and sees a man sitting on the rock in the darkness. He’s not wearing a shirt, and is wrapping his hands and legs in some material. Breen: I hear you. I see your light. I’m here. I’m not armed. I’m just resting. Walker: Alright. I can see you a little bit. I need you to turn around and put your hands in the air. Breen: No and no. That would hurt pretty bad. I’m real fucked up. Honestly, shoot me if you want. Actually, please do. Walker approaches Breen and shines a light on him. He squints. SCP-8682 is on the ground next to him, along with its biogel tank. Alexis lowers her gun. Walker: Can you explain what’s going on? Breen laughs and then grimaces. Breen: I work for a top secret organization, and I’ve recovered an anomalous object. I’m currently on my way to a black site- is your walkie talkie on? Are you getting all this? Nanticoke, Pennsylvania. Site-58. It’s under an old abandoned building. My supervisor is Virgil Mayreder. My partner is Carlos Ortega. Do you want their phone numbers? Walker points her flashlight at SCP-8682. Walker: What is that? Breen: I don’t know. What does it look like? Walker nears SCP-8682 for inspection. SCP-8682 is moving slowly. Walker appears to be fixated on the object, not moving or speaking for several minutes. Breen is also silent at this time. Walker then delicately grabs SCP-8682 and places it inside of the cave. Walker grabs her walkie talkie, and then puts it back down. Someone on the other end of the walkie talkie asks for a status report, but she doesn’t respond. Walker turns to Breen who is leaning backward outside of the cave wall with his eyes closed. Breen: Processing? The sun begins to rise. Excerpt from Stage Three of Breen’s Disciplinary Hearing: Excerpt Hide Dr. Mayreder: What happened after that? Breen: That felt like an eternity. Don’t really know why. Dr. Mayreder: What did she say about your little rant upon first locating you? Breen: Nothing. Probably thought I was high. Why do we even have a disinfo team? It’s not like you could convince people of any of this shit. But no, she saw the object and went mute. Just dumbstruck I guess. Or it’s like one of its effects. No, I’m just gonna go with dumbstruck. Dr. Mayreder: And after that? Breen: The sun came out. She’s just standing there looking at the object and looking at the lake and just generally looking. Don’t know what her deal was. Did I mention she hid it in the cave too? Inexplicable. We should trade places, honestly. And then the boys showed up. Surprised you were so late. Dr. Mayreder: The task force? Breen: Yeah. Zapped her right in the neck. Classic. She dropped like a sack of bricks. They swooped in and just grabbed me. Threw me over the shoulder like a ragdoll. They put her on her side in the cave. Some guy with something that looked like an ice cooler bagged the object. Honestly, why didn’t you have those guys do this in the first place? Dr. Mayreder: Because we thought we could count on you for this simple task. This is your last chance, Breen. Where are those men now? Breen: I assume that they’re all dead if you haven’t heard from them. Dr. Mayreder: It was… a rhetorical question. They are all dead. What did the attackers look like? Breen: I saw a few guys in the chaos. They were in tactical gear, had masks on. Generic stuff. No bad guy uniform if that’s what you mean! We were being shot at with automatic weapons. It was such a weird scene. Golden fog and heavy rain. Exit wounds mixing in with droplets creating these misty jets of blood in the air. There were a few guys and then. Some things? They looked like spinal cords. Maybe they were so tall that I couldn't see their heads? Spinal cords waving in the golden dark like reeds. It was hard to see. I stumbled over one in the aftermath but I was too fucked to look at it. I’m amazed our guys even shot anything. Dr. Mayreder: And then you located SCP-8682? Breen: I do not know why, but yes, I did. I grabbed his little container. Dr. Mayreder: His? Breen: It. Come on, man. Anyway, after that I stumbled out onto the road and got into one of the vans our goons came in. Dr. Mayreder: Goons? Breen, that was Nu-7. They are dead. Do you understand? Breen looks at the floor and rubs his temple. Addendum D: Transcript of drone footage from the Ghost Lake conflict, November 8th, 2024. The detachment of 30 operatives from Nu-7 were equipped with automatic and long range silenced rifles, portable flamethrowers, and adaptive hyperspectral goggles. [DATA EXPUNGED] granting them full awareness of enemy movements, with provided stationary air support. There were 11 enemy combatants present, eight were equipped with automatic rifles, as well as three entities yet to be cataloged. Transcript Hide [06:01:03] 8 men and 2 entities are approaching Breen and the civilian from the northern side of the lake. The entities are 2.4 meters tall and appear to have emerged from the ground. They have the appearance of thick spinal columns, and are following the rear of the 8 men. Their method of locomotion is unknown. They are swaying from left to right rhythmically as they move. [06:01:05] The civilian is subdued by Nu-7. [06:01:14] 10 men from Nu-7 circle around from the west and 10 approach Breen from the southeast. 10 wait in ambush just south of Breen. [06:01:15] Nu-7 1-3 moves in to retrieve Breen and the Object. [06:01:37] Nu-7 1-3 move toward the road with Breen and the object. [06:01:55] One of the spinal entities emerges underneath the group retrieving Breen. [06:01:56] Thirteen operatives unleash fire upon the spinal entity. The entity exhibited no aggressive behavior nor did it appear capable of attacking. Nu-7 received orders to redirect fire towards the eight human combatants. While all enemy combatants were within range, none seemed to be affected by Nu-7's barrage, despite their complete encirclement. [06:01:58] The 8 men move toward Breen. 10 members of Nu-7 have been shot at this point. [06:02:53] One of the enemy combatants is approached by Nu-7-4. Nu-7-4 appears to have dispatched the combatant with a knife. [06:03:12] Nu-7 is instructed to cease fire and approach the combatants and engage them in close combat. A melee begins. [06:03:46] 8 other members of Nu-7 are killed during the approach. [06:05:13] One enemy combatant dispatched 4 members of Nu-7 in close combat. It is unclear how this was achieved. [06:07:05] The remaining 6 members of Nu-7 are instructed to use Incendiaries. While this is effective, killing them, the remaining 6 members of Nu-7 are killed by return gunfire. [06:12:12] The spinal entities submerge into the ground. [06:22:00] Breen is seen moving around the battlefield searching for something. [06:29:40] Breen locates an object and moves toward the road. [06:32:45] Breen enters one of Nu-7’s vehicles and heads west on Highway 80. [06:40:00] The civilian begins moving. Something emerges from beneath the ground, and the connection to the drone is lost. The area was sweeped one hour later; the bodies of Nu-7, their equipment, the drone, enemy combatants, the civilian, or spinal entities could not be located. Ammunition used by the enemy combatants was not capable of piercing the armor worn by Nu-7, and would have had to penetrate thin entry points in their joints, while their limbs were extended. The events in this scenario are extremely improbable. Addendum E: Footage found on the civilian Alexis Walker’s body cam. 11/08/2024 06:57-07:30 Transcript Hide Walker’s body is being dragged through the woods. Her body orientation against the ground obscures visual identification. There is an unusual noise, like the vibration of a Crotalus (rattlesnake) rattle persisting throughout the footage. A momentary shift in her view reveals a large object resembling a human spinal column quickly slithering across the frame. Movement stops for a moment, and the camera gradually submerges into the earth. There is darkness and the sound of earth being moved around for 17 minutes. There is a loud thump of flesh against rock, and a voice can be overheard. Addendum E-1 1008.202448 Audio Recording [Snippet] 11/08/2024 ?: Prediction of the future through excruciation. In the eyes of history we are already dead. The spine contains the history of the universe. We see the future by drowning ourselves in blood and cerebrospinal fluid. This is our own magic. Chronotropism. The manna is a coagulated history. Walker appears to begin moving on her own volition, revealing that she is in some sort of cavern, dimly lit by some sort of red luminescent lichen. The chamber contains corpses in varying stages of decomposition, with individuals dressed in casual hiking clothing. ?: Our enemies are abjection. The radial terrors. Creatures divisible by three. The tori. They escape phylogenetic reality. Unseen by Yaldabaoth. Κνίδη. The sponge, the jelly, and the starfish. The betrayers of the 35 phyla. The Invertebrates… A human spinal column, 25 cm in diameter and 2 meters long, slithers past Walker through a passageway. Walker produces a flashlight and inspects the chamber. She locates a Glock 17 pistol nearby. ? 2: Ma’am- Ma’am. This is important- Alexis grabs the gun and examines it, wiping the dirt from it with her sleeves. There is a sudden crackling of radio static. She flinches and deactivates her walkie talkie. ?: The method begins with the mouth. History begins with the bowels. In this way flies are holy and embody time: eating, digesting, and defecating all at once. Reach into the spine, into the lowest and most idiotic of your vertebrate. Good. What do you see? ? 2: He’s headed west on highway 80. In a Lenco Bearcat. Gunmetal paint job. He’s high. ?: The new magic is so beautiful. Now look from your solar eye into the sacral brain- Alexis moves to the threshold and looks into a roughly 100 square-meter area cavern. There are shallow pools of water reflecting light from dripping stalactites. It is likely a pocket in the VRPD aquifer, possibly beneath Ghost Lake. The area is furnished with a field kitchen, comms equipment, and other living amenities, including among them 10 bunks. No entrance or exit is visible. The spinal entities do not appear to be present. ? 2: No, We bugged the vehicle after the knídē arrived. I didn’t use the magic- ?: Fool! But you used the magic to see them before they arrived? There is a tall figure wearing a red jumpsuit with red chest waders. Her face is concealed partially with a red hood. She intermittently monitors a console behind her. She turns around and resumes speaking to something on the ground. It appears to be a humanoid body in a fetal position, albeit lacking a head. Walker pulls her shirt sleeve back and forcefully pinches her arm. She then whispers to herself: Walker: Wide awake. ? 2: Yes… ?: Then why didn’t we know he would escape? ? 2: There is only one destination, but there are many paths we take to arrive there- The figure in the red jumpsuit kicks the entity on the ground. The figure turns her back to Alexis. Alexis moves forward with her gun pointed at the hooded figure. She closes the distance and strikes the figure in the back of the head with her pistol. The figure falls to the ground limply. Alexis illuminates the object on the ground with her flashlight. It is a small, headless humanoid creature, or rather, its head is located on its torso. Its body is limp in such a way that suggests it is missing a large portion of its bone structure. Alexis makes a startled yelp and stumbles backward. Xix: Don’t be afraid. The camera moves up and down, Alexis sounds as if she is hyperventilating. Walker: Huh… What… What in the hell, man. Xix: Tell me your name. I’m referred to as Xix. Alexis slides down against the wall, into a seated position on the floor. Then, suddenly, produces her gun and points it wildly around the cavern. Walker: Where are the snakes? Xix: They won’t hurt you. I can tell you what you need to know. Walker: Okay. Give me a minute. Walker turns and vomits. Feed ends abruptly, presumably due to lack of power. Image No #: 8682-1 A diminutive instance of SCP-8682-B appears suddenly, but does not appear to attack. Its tongue extends and flicks toward the viewer. 11/08/2024 06:55 Ghost Lake, PN. Image captured ██/██/24 Image No #: 8682-2 SCP-8682-B seen briefly in frame moving through the water. 11/08/2024 05:41 Ghost Lake, PN. Image captured ██/██/24 Addendum F: SCP Revision Draft Review - SCP-8682-B Special Containment Procedures: Instances of SCP-8682-B are contained at the site of recovery due to potential surveillance risks. The area is currently cordoned from the public under a “Poisoned Waterhole” containment protocol. Description: SCP-8682 potentially had the ability to manipulate SCP-8682-B as a secondary effect. SCP-8682-B consists of a chain of articulated human vertebrae capable of independent movement. These segments culminate in a hollow vertebra at the front, containing a fibrous, tongue-like appendage. SCP-8682-B specimens vary in length, ranging from just over 4 meters to 24 centimeters. Despite lacking musculature or any apparent locomotor mechanism, these segments can move. While SCP-8682-B possesses no discernible sensory organs, its tongue-like appendage is suspected to serve a sensory function. SCP-8682-B also exhibits no need for sustenance and demonstrates no aggressive behavior towards humans. However, it has been observed attempting to move objects and individuals unable to resist. During an event, individuals believed to be connected with SCP-8682-B were observed maneuvering in ways that allowed them to survive improbable situations, such as enduring sustained automatic weapon fire at close range for extended periods without injury. However, the exact nature of this effect and its direct connection to SCP-8682-B remain unconfirmed. Images recovered from a civilian body cam on 11/08/2024. Addendum G: Rearview Camera footage of a Nu-7 vehicle on highway 80 near Blakeslee, Pennsylvania. Low quality, no audio. 08:50-09:20 Transcript Hide [08:52:10] Blurry object approaches Breen’s vehicle from the rear. [08:54:30] A large instance of SCP-8682-B, roughly 3 meters long, appears to be accelerating towards the vehicle, which is traveling at 128 km/h. The highway is heavily congested with traffic. [08:54:53] Two individuals, one in a police officer's uniform and the other a strange, blob-like humanoid figure, are precariously positioned on the back of SCP-8682-B, which writhes toward the vehicle at high speed. As they come closer, it becomes clear that the officer is Alexis Walker, who is carrying the humanoid figure on her back. [08:56:10] More instances of SCP-8682-B appear on camera, closing in from both sides. They leave white trails of bone flaking on the highway. [08:56:22] Startled by the approaching SCP-8682-B, Walker manages to stay just behind Breen's vehicle. The other instances match their pace, seemingly unable to accelerate further. While converging on Breen's vehicle, they appear to ignore Walker entirely. [08:57:32] 1 XR-FVL-F Heavy Load Anzu, and 3 AH-64-F Apache helicopters, (Foundation assets), appear in camera view. [08:58:22] Walker appears frustrated, mouthing the words “Open the doors.” [08:59:11] Walker pulls up to the passengers side, out of camera view. [09:02:22] Flying, red, snake-like creatures similar to those in Addendum A move within the frame. [08:57:32] The 3 AH-64-F open fire on the SCP-8682-B instances nearest to Agent Breen’s vehicle. SCP-8682-B are unharmed after the short burst. [08:58:32] The 3 Apache helicopters divert course. The Anzu pulls out of frame, over Breen’s vehicle. [08:58:55] The flying snake-like creatures are fluttering in and out of frame, appearing to harass the vehicle. [09:05:12] They pass a sign for Nanticoke, Pennsylvania. [09:09:22] Breen’s vehicle begins to lift off of the ground. The camera swivels with a sudden jerk to point directly toward the ground, swaying back and forth. The SCP-8682-B instances stop moving, and rest in vertical positions. [09:10:12] Equipment falls to the ground, presumably from the rear of Breen's vehicle due to the rear door swinging open. The flying-snake-like creatures appear to flood past the camera and into the vehicle. It is possible the passengers remained safe, due to a grate installed between the cabin and the cargo area. [09:20:41] The camera pans over a wooded area and remains in place until it stops swaying. It then begins to descend. A section of ground [REDACTED] a retractable grate mechanism, revealing an intake bay of Site-57. After Breen and the cargo were secured, site security dispatched the anomalous flying creatures with light machine gun fire from the safety of embrasures within the bay. The civilian Walker was sedated and Breen was subdued with an, admittedly, nonstandard use of force by site personnel. XR-FVL-F are experimental cargo and transport helicopters but they are not designed to secure vehicles moving at high speeds. At the time of deployment this capability was only a hypothetical. The pilot of the Anzu believes that replicating this feat would be nearly impossible and he is unsure how, through his conscious effort, it was accomplished. Still image from the events in Addendum G. A small instance of SCP-8682-B is visible in the frame. Addendum H: TO: tenartni.rh.75S|AA75080S#tenartni.rh.75S|AA75080S.: RE: "The Dice Man" <May 31, 2025, 7:14 AM> "Xix" has proven to be extremely cooperative, providing a wealth of information, and little problem for its containment staff. I think we should okay their request for some old fictional books. I can't foresee any harm coming from it. So here's my yay vote. -Doctor Lorenz Addendum I: RE: RE: Agent Breen Ghosting 11/08/2024 Agent Breen is no longer employed by the Foundation as of 11/08/2024, having been terminated by Dr. Virgil Mayreder. A notice has been forwarded to Foundation affiliates regarding their new status. Breen has been recommended for transfer to the Cicada programme against recommendation from the Site Director and 05-7, due to their productive history at Site-2. Dr. Mayreder recommends housing alumni O. Sanders with Breen during the reintegration process. Addendum J: TO: tenartni.rh.75S|AA75080S#tenartni.rh.75S|AA75080S.: Alexis Walker Identity Management <May 31, 2025, 7:14 AM> I think we're jumping the gun here, but it's extremely unlikely they will activate her, let alone put her on her own assignment in under a year. But I guess they don't need 2 cents from us paper pushers. Here's the file. -Bayes |
SCP-8685 | keter | Item #: SCP-8685 Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8685 is to be provided with a template document inquiring about the possibility of consensual posthumous organ harvesting. To protect the veil, SCP-8685 is to act under the official guise of a non-anomalous organ donation organization. Deliveries from SCP-8685 are to be incinerated. Description: SCP-8685 is an organization of anomalous humans capable of medically removing and restoring wasted organs for recycled usage in humans. SCP-8685 instances do not originate from our timeline nor dimension, but do not physically differ from baseline humans. The exact methodology in which they are able to refurbish organs is unknown. SCP-8685's mission statement is to provide preserve and save lives of individuals from their dimension. Discovery: During a routine sweep of cemeteries located around Clayton, Georgia, a representative of SCP-8685 (henceforth referred to as SCP-8685-1) was discovered surgically removing and storing various human matter from buried individuals. Due to Foundation interests and claims on the site, the confrontation was initially hostile. However eventually both sides agreed to discuss the situation peacefully. [Begin Recording] SCP-8685-1: I'm sorry for the miscommunication here, we really didn't think much of it. Y'all aren't using these are you? Agent Kremer: We have our own interests, but we're not technically using them. Nonetheless, you have no right to waltz in and take what's not yours. SCP-8685-1: I get that, I get that. We just, don't see the harm? Agent Kremer: The harm of non-consensual grave robbing? SCP-8685-1: Consensual grave robbing sounds plain silly doesn't it? Agent Kremer: You can't rob what you agree to let go. SCP-8685-1: Fair; however my point was more that if we were to ask people if we were allowed to dig up ol' Grandpapa and take whatever there is left to keep that the maggots hadn't gotten to yet, I doubt they'd let us have our pickings. No way to spin it for it to work right by them, is there? Agent Kremer: If the answer's disgusting, I don't really want to know — but what's the point of all this anyways? SCP-8685-1: We recycle, refurbish, refit, whatever you want to call it. In comes the ol' and out comes the new. Agent Kremer: So, organ donation? SCP-8685-1: Sounds better than grave robbing, so I'll take it. But yes, that is what we do in essence. Agent Kremer: For us to stick that landing, how about we start with consent forms? We can print something out, and you'll just mail it to the deceased's estate? SCP-8685-1: Listen, I knoooow that what we're doing isn't exactly 100% ethical, by the books okay and it would most definitely land us all significant jail time, but we really can't afford to take a hit to our supply at this time of year. Agent Kremer: Either you stick to the consent forms, or you leave empty handed guaranteed. That's just how this is going to have to work, if I know anything about our organization. I don't make the rules. SCP-8685-1: You're serious? You think an ol' letter in the mail reading "May we defile your loved one's grave, surgically remove their rotting, mushy, horribly disfigured organs, so we can implant them in someone who may appreciate them?" would do well? Agent Kremer: Not saying it'll do well, but I'd at least feel a lot better about it. SCP-8685-1: At least ol' G-Man's happy about it. Girl's dying of a failing kidney, but we have to wait for widowed meemaw to sign the consent form for her expired lover. Agent Kremer: At least look at what we can draft up? SCP-8685-1: Only hope we've got. [End Recording] Addendum SCP-8685-A: Consent Form Preamble: We have discovered a method to cleanly remove and restore dead matter, such as organs and skin cells. With our medical breakthrough we are able to accompany millions of dying and in-need children, men and women across the globe. For this to work however, we need your consent and support! 1. By signing this agreement, you agree to submit and forfeit any claim you or your estate may have on the deceased's corpse, especially as pertaining to their organs. 2. By signing this agreement, you forfeit any potential private claims against our organization for temporary defilement of the deceased's grave and permanent scarring of the deceased's corpse. 3. By signing this agreement, you agree to not report and/or testify in any cases aspertaining to the process of removing, restoring and implanting organ matter of the deceased. 4. By signing this agreement, you admit you have read the entirety of this document and are aware of the long lasting implications of its effects. You may not rescind this agreement for any reason. The agreement only regulates what occurs to the corpse of X (Name of the deceased). Addendum SCP-8685-B: Incident Report Following its drafting, SCP-8685-1 was confronted with the consent form and given a pseudonym to act under for future organ harvesting and/or organ donation matters. SCP-8685-1 scoffed and took the blank consent form with them, only shortly returning to place a 8-digit counter on the table which read "0". An inspection reveals it is remote operated, presumably from SCP-8685's home dimension. After 30 seconds, the counter read 1. By the end of the day, the counter read 13.492. All means or efforts to intercept SCP-8685 and/or contact SCP-8685 have failed. Their existence has been confirmed as of the writing of this document, as numerous unsigned consent forms were intercepted in the US Postal System. By the end of the month, the counter read 1.942.293. Addendum SCP-8685-C: Counter Update By the end of the year, the counter reached its limit, as it did not possess the required digits to display a number greater than 99.999.999. This event coincided with the arrival of shipments of rotten cadavers to Site-93, each having an arabic numeral etched onto their chest. All contact to SCP-8685 has been lost. |
SCP-8686 | esoteric-class | Welcome to Love. + CODE - CODE /* BLANKSTYLE CSS [2021 Wikidot Theme] By Placeholder McD and HarryBlank Based on: Paperstack Theme by EstrellaYoshte Penumbra Theme by EstrellaYoshte */ @import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Montserrat:ital,wght@0,800;1,800&display=swap'); #page-content { font-size: .9rem; } #main-content { top: -1.6rem; padding: 0.2em; } div#container-wrap { background-image: none; } div#header { background-image: none; } #header h1, #header h2 { margin-left: 0; float: none; text-align: center; } #header h2 { margin-top: 0.5rem; } #header h1 span, #header h2 span { font-size: 0; display: none;} #header h1 a::before, #header h2::before { color: #000; letter-spacing: 1px; font-family: 'Montserrat', sans-serif !important; text-shadow: none; } #header h1 a::before { content: var(--header-title, "R\0026 C SITE-43"); font-weight: 400; font-size: 1.3em; } #header h2::before { content: var(--header-subtitle, "SUBVERTING COMMON PRACTICE"); 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border-image: url('https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/theme%3Aflopstyle-dark/wl_border.png') 600 round; border-image-width: 6; padding: 2vw; } + CODE - CODE /* BLANKSTYLE CSS [2021 Wikidot Theme] By Placeholder McD and HarryBlank Based on: Paperstack Theme by EstrellaYoshte Penumbra Theme by EstrellaYoshte */ @import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Montserrat:ital,wght@0,800;1,800&display=swap'); #page-content { font-size: .9rem; } #main-content { top: -1.6rem; padding: 0.2em; } div#container-wrap { background-image: none; } div#header { background-image: none; } #header h1, #header h2 { margin-left: 0; float: none; text-align: center; } #header h2 { margin-top: 0.5rem; } #header h1 span, #header h2 span { font-size: 0; display: none;} #header h1 a::before, #header h2::before { color: #000; letter-spacing: 1px; font-family: 'Montserrat', sans-serif !important; text-shadow: none; } #header h1 a::before { content: var(--header-title, "R\0026 C SITE-43"); font-weight: 400; 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} h2 { font-size: 1.45em; } div#extra-div-1 { height: 160px; width: 100%; top: 0; position: absolute; background: url('https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/theme%3Ablankstyle/43Head.png'); background-size: contain; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: 50% 50%; z-index: -1; } @media (max-width: 707px) { div#extra-div-1 { top: 15px; } } body { background-image: linear-gradient( to bottom, #e0e0e0, #e0e0e0 90px, #e0e0e0 90px, #ffffff 200px, #ffffff 200px, #ffffff 100%); background-repeat: no-repeat; } :root { --timeScale: 1.5; --timeDelay: 1.5s; --posX: calc(50% - 358px - 13rem); --fnLinger: 1s; } #page-content hr { background-color: #000; } #page-content tr th { padding: 6px; border: #000 1px solid; } #page-content tr td { padding: 12px; border: #000 1px solid; line-height: 1.4; } #page-content .sidebox tr td, #page-content .sidebox tr th { padding: 0.35em; } #side-bar { border-right: 1px solid #333; background: #DDD; } #side-bar .side-block { border: 1px solid #333; border-radius: 0; 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border-radius: 0; } div.page-rate-widget-box .rate-points { background-color: #ffffff; color: #333333; border: none; border-radius: 0; } .page-rate-widget-box .rateup, .page-rate-widget-box .ratedown { background-color: #ffffff; border-top: none; border-bottom: none; } .page-rate-widget-box .rateup a, .page-rate-widget-box .ratedown a { background: transparent; color: #333333; } .page-rate-widget-box .rateup a:hover, .page-rate-widget-box .ratedown a:hover { background: #333333; color: #ffffff; } .page-rate-widget-box .cancel { background: transparent; background-color: #ffffff; border: none; border-radius: 0; } .page-rate-widget-box .cancel a { color: #333333; } .page-rate-widget-box .cancel a:hover { background: #333333; color: #ffffff; border-radius: 0; } #page-content .rate-box-with-credit-button .page-rate-widget-box { border: none; } .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; } #header h2::before { font-size: 0.9em !important; } } .scp-image-block { box-shadow: none; } /* ---- YUI TAB 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} /* ---- YUI TAB 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; } /*---- SCROLLBAR ----*/ ::-webkit-scrollbar { width: 10px; } ::-webkit-scrollbar-track { background: #FFF; border-left: 1px solid #333; } ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb { background: #CCC; border: #333 1px solid; } ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb:hover { background: #EEE; } /*---- CENTER IMAGES ON MOBILE courtesy of EstrellaYoshte and PeppersGhost ----*/ .imagediv { float: right; margin: 15px } @media (max-width: 540px) { .imagediv { float: none; text-align:center; margin: auto; } } @media only screen and (max-width: 600px) { .scp-image-block.block-right{ float: none; margin: 10px auto; } } /*---- ACS-COLORED TABLE DIVS ----*/ #page-content .table1 tr th, #page-content .table1 .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { background-color: #D7EFE7; } #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: #FFDABF; } #page-content .table5 tr th, #page-content .table5 .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { background-color: #F5D8E0; } #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; } .tableb .scp-image-block { border: none; } .tableb .scp-image-block img { border: #000 1px solid; box-sizing: border-box; } .tableb .scp-image-block .scp-image-caption { margin-top: 2px; border: #000 1px solid; box-sizing: border-box; } .top-left-box > .item { display: none; } /* ---- WORDS NO LONGER BROKEN, THE CROQUEMBOUCHE HAS SPOKEN ---- */ span, a { word-break: normal !important } .avatar-hover { display: none !important; } #breadcrumbs, .pseudocrumbs { text-align: center; padding-top: 10px; } #main-content .page-tags span { max-width: 100%; } /* -- FANCY THINGS from Woedenaz's Dustjacket Theme -- */ .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://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/theme%3Aflopstyle-dark/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://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/theme%3Aflopstyle-dark/wl_border.png') 600 round; border-image-width: 6; padding: 2vw; } + CODE - CODE /* QUEERSTYLE CSS By Queerious Forked from: Blankstyle CSS by Placeholder McD and HarryBlank Using: White Outline Classic LGBTQ+ Pride Logo by Woedenaz from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/component:pride-highlighter */ @import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Vast+Shadow&display=swap'); #header h1 a::before { font-size: 1.2em; text-shadow: 3px 3px 3px #fff; } #header h2::before { font-size: 0.9em; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #fff; } #header { margin-top: 0.5em; } :root { --header-title: "SCP Foundation"; --header-subtitle: "SECURE, CONTAIN, PROTECT"; } @media (max-width: 707px) { #header h1 a::before { font-size: 9vw; } } #top-bar, #top-bar a { text-shadow: 0.75px 0.75px 1px #fff; } div#extra-div-1 { height: 150px; background-image: url('https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/component:pride-highlighter/gp_logo.svg'); } #page-content .creditButton p a { color:#373737; } /* Pseudogenesis Formats */ .pseudo-div { border:solid 4px #B22A2A; background:#403450; color: #ffffff; padding: 5px 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; font-family: "Vast Shadow", serif; text-align: center; } .pseudo-div :is(h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6) { font-family: "Vast Shadow", serif; letter-spacing: 0px; font-weight: normal; color: white; } Item#: 8686 Level2 Containment Class: euclid Secondary Class: Agare Disruption Class: keneq Risk Class: caution link to memo Special Containment Procedures: Due to the unpredictable nature of SCP-8686 appearances, Foundation Web-Crawlers are to monitor for any listings of the anomaly on resale or auction websites. If a listing is found, efforts are to be made to remove it. Purchasing the copy is the preferred option, though taking down the listing is a valid alternative. In the event that a copy of SCP-8686 is purchased, MTF Upsilon-33 ("Rushing Critics"), is to obtain the SCP-8686 instance, and administer B-Class amnestics to the exposed individuals. Agents are to maintain the belief that SCP-8686 is no more than a memory of an existing play, as established by the memetic properties of the anomaly.1 Description: SCP-8686 is an anomalous theatre experience known as "The Best Days Of Our Lives". SCP-8686 is attributed to "Pseudogenesis Productions", alternatively known as GOI-478. The first page contains information on those involved in the production of SCP-8686.2 Instances will appear on various auction websites, including eBay, Etsy, and Craigslist, priced five to ten dollars. The cover contains a memetic effect, compelling someone to open the playbill, but opening it will invariably cause the subject to be affected by more of SCP-8686's memetics and cognitohazardous effects. The various memetics that make up SCP-8686 seem to be able to exert power on the environment around the subject for the duration of the performance, manifesting furniture and entities collectively known as SCP-8686-A. SCP-8686's story is in three acts, each corresponding to a unique heuristic3 effect in the subject. Amnestic testing has shown that the show cannot be removed from the memory of any subjects. The first act elicits euphoric emotions towards the SCP-8686-A instance representing the viewer's romantic partner within SCP-8686. The second act induces paranoia in the viewer, specifically regarding perceived potential flaws or character faults. The viewer is inevitably unable to determine the root cause of their conflict. The third act forces the viewer to confront their flaws, resulting in a major conflict between the viewer and the SCP-8686-A instance representing their partner. This conflict inevitably leads to a moment of self-realization. An SCP-8686 performance will always follow the same act structure, and is always set within the same location, a cottage home. While the narrative varies between instances, the subject is never able to leave the set. An image of an SCP-8686 listing is included below for reference. Cognitohazard Present Hide Best Days Of Our Lives It's a story told time after time. Guaranteed to change your life. Tickets available online, buy now. Addendum 8686.1: Experiment Log Preface: D-2231, a Class-D personnel, was given an instance of SCP-8686. The show was recorded as to understand the true nature of SCP-8686 performances. Only portions of the recording were recoverable, separated by glitches. It is believed a portion of each act was captured. (The environment begins to shift into the cottage set of SCP-8686 as Act One opens. D-2231 is standing in the front door, holding a bag of groceries.) D-2231: Woah— Oh. Did I go to the store? (D-2231 walks through the halls, before coming face to face with an instance of SCP-8686-A. D-2231 shifts awkwardly.) D-2231: … Carol? They took you in too? SCP-8686-A: Dear, are you feeling alright? Oh, you got the groceries! Did you make sure to pick up some eggs? We're out. D-2231: I— (D-2231 looks at the bag, nodding to SCP-8686-A.) D-2231: Yeah. It looks like I did. SCP-8686-A: Are you hungry, then? I could go for an omelet, and I know how much you like them. (D-2231 pauses for a moment, staring at the instance of SCP-8686-A. There is a pause, before tears can be seen in the footage.) D-2231: I missed you. So much. SCP-8686-A: It's okay now. It's okay. D-2231: You said you would never leave me, and here we are. SCP-8686-A: I remember when I said that. You came home and I was drunk on the couch. (D-2231 chuckles and gets closer to SCP-8686-A, hugging it.) D-2231: I missed you. So much, Carol. (D-2231's chuckles turn slowly into sobs, hugging the instance closer.) SCP-8686-A: I missed you too, Ash. (D-2231 looks down at SCP-8686-A while in an embrace, tears flowing. SCP-8686-A wipes away some of her tears, smiling warmly.) D-2231: I couldn't ask for anyone better. (They kiss.) SCP-8686-A: You said you wouldn't do that anymore. (D-2231 takes a sip from a green glass bottle.) SCP-8686-A: Seriously? I quit. I quit drinking for you. D-2231: Let's just enjoy the moment. Want a sip? (SCP-8686-A makes a disgusted face at D-2231.) SCP-8686-A: You'd better be wasted. D-2231: I actually think I'm rather insightful. Are you sure? SCP-8686-A: Ash. I've been sober for five months now. Are you fucking kidding me? (SCP-8686-A clenches its jaw, brushing its hair to the side and glaring at D-2231.) SCP-8686-A: I'm going to get some fresh air. Feel free to join me when you're thinking again. D-2231: Carol, I don't see the problem. I'm not a drunkard like you were— (SCP-8686-A glares at D-2231 as tears form.) SCP-8686-A: Every day, you made me feel bad for drinking. It was a fucking problem, yes, I needed help, but you didn't have to say what you did. You told me I was going to die from it, that I was gonna end up in a fucking gutter. (SCP-8686-A's lip quivers as they begin to cry.) SCP-8686-A: Why in Hell would you say that to me, and why in the love of Christ would you keep drinking— No, why are you still drinking? D-2231: Carol, sweetheart, you just don't get— SCP-8686-A: No, don't try to talk your way out of this. (D-2231 visibly sinks lower into her chair, taking a sip from her drink.) SCP-8686-A: And put down the bottle. I just want you to practice what you preach. Please. D-2231: Okay. Okay, I promise that I'll quit. I'm sorry. I love you, and I'm going to go sleep off my drinks. (SCP-8686-A nods, as D-2231 stands up and the scene shifts into a bedroom.) (D-2231 takes a flask, frowning as she downs the contents. Her body trembles.) D-2231: Last one… Last one. I promise. (D-2231 looks to the front door, where SCP-8686-A stands. She has tear-stained eyes and is shaking.) D-2231: I'm sorry, I don't want you to leave— please darling, come back. (SCP-8686-A looks back, sniffling as tears flow from its eyes.) SCP-8686-A: I feel like I don't even know you. You won't quit. You won't go to rehab. You won't go to therapy. It's like you don't even want to change. D-2231: I love you though, so much, more than anything else in this stupid small world. Please. Don't leave me alone. I don't want to be alone, you're the only thing that keeps going. SCP-8686-A: I can't do this anymore. You're hurting yourself with your addiction, and then you turn around and hurt me. You— (SCP-8686-A's voice trembles, choking up.) SCP-8686-A: You can say you love me all you want, but every time I see you drink it reminds me of a past I had to crawl out of alone. And you have the gall to throw that back at me, after everything you know I've been through? I'm done. D-2231: Carol, honey— (SCP-8686-A walks out of the cottage, slamming the door shut.) (D-2231 sits in the house, making her way onto the couch.) (She curls up into a ball, covering herself in a blanket and mumbling nothings to herself to try and calm down. The only remaining noises in the recording are D-2231's sobs, and the dull buzz of the stage lights. After ten minutes of crying, she falls asleep.) (The show ends.) After the experiment, D-2231 requested Foundation psychiatric services to aid her in mitigating her alcoholism. The request was granted, and D-2231 showed exceptional progress in her recovery. Efforts are ongoing to identify SCP-8686-A from D-2231's recorded performance. Despite D-2231's insistence, they have never been in a relationship or married to any individuals named 'Carol'. As such, SCP-8686-A's existence as a real individual is pending further investigation. Footnotes 1. Agare class anomalies are perceived as fictional works, where containment is focused on maintaining that belief. In this case, containment relies on the belief that this anomaly is a memory of a real, fictional play. 2. Stephanie Pseudo (POI-478-1) is credited as Writer and Director. Solomon Baer (POI-478-2) is credited as Stage Manager and Light Technician. Duplo (POI-478-3) is credited as Set Designer. Vivienne Chen (POI-478-4) is credited as Memetic and Cognitohazard creator. 3. An effect of self-realization through a cognitohazard. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8686" by DoctorLilithSophia, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8686. 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: Agare-class.png Author: Queerious License: cc-by-sa 3.0 Filename: Pseudogenesis_Logo_Flatter.png Name: Psuedogenesis Logo Author: Queerious License: cc-by-sa 3.0 Filename: Vhs_Glitch-cropped-flipped.gif Name: Language of fourier strings. Author: Roͬͬ͠͠͡͠͠͠͠͠͠͠͠sͬͬ͠͠͠͠͠͠͠͠͠aͬͬ͠͠͠͠͠͠͠ Menkman License: cc-by 2.0 Source Link: https://www.flickr.com/photos/r00s/6974122193/ Notes: Image was cropped and edited by me, Queerious NOTE: Pseudogenesis Productions from [[SCP-8478]] and [[SCP-8740]] by Queerious |
SCP-8688 | safe | + CODE - CODE /* BLANKSTYLE CSS [2021 Wikidot Theme] By Placeholder McD and HarryBlank Based on: Paperstack Theme by EstrellaYoshte Penumbra Theme by EstrellaYoshte */ @import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Montserrat:ital,wght@0,800;1,800&display=swap'); #page-content { font-size: .9rem; } #main-content { top: -1.6rem; padding: 0.2em; } div#container-wrap { background-image: none; } div#header { background-image: none; } #header h1, #header h2 { margin-left: 0; float: none; text-align: center; } #header h2 { margin-top: 0.5rem; } #header h1 span, #header h2 span { font-size: 0; display: none;} #header h1 a::before, #header h2::before { color: #000; letter-spacing: 1px; font-family: 'Montserrat', sans-serif !important; text-shadow: none; } #header h1 a::before { content: var(--header-title, "R\0026 C SITE-43"); font-weight: 400; font-size: 1.3em; } #header h2::before { content: var(--header-subtitle, "SUBVERTING COMMON PRACTICE"); font-weight: 700; font-size: 1.2em; 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padding: 2vw; } NOTICE FROM THE SITE-43 MEMETICS AND COUNTERMEMETICS SECTION This is an older version of the document. We need to keep this here, otherwise we'll forget about it. Again. Don't worry about it. You're also going to see email correspondence between Heather Garrison and I included in both versions of the document. These are, unfortunately, needed for containment. Something about context helping 'fix' it in our minds. And again, don't worry about it. — Dr. Lillian Lillihammer, Chair of Memetics and Countermemetics, Site-43 Access Site-43 SCiPNET Email? One (1) new message! Welcome back, Heather To: Heather Garrison From: Lillian Lillihammer Subject: Fw:Re:Old AO Project You Started Hey Heather, I'm swamped with trying to undo the mess we made last week when we were trying to help M&C remember to lock the cognitohazard lab, so I can't handle this. But it looks weird. I think there's some meme fuckery happening, and I only know a handful of people who can understand them as well as I can. Pretty please will you look into this and just write a quick file on it? Thaaaaanks, Dr. Lillian Lillihammer, Chair of Memetics and Countermemetics Hi Dr. Lillihammer, I was going through some archives in I&T and found some documentation from your old workstation. We flipped through it, and realized that we had an unresolved AO just sitting around in our archive, that you never finished working on. After you stopped work on it, it seems like everybody just…forgot about it? It's been sitting there for years now, and my boss wants it gone ASAP, so could you help us out here? We keep trying to figure it out, but nobody seems able to stay with it that long. Regards, Richard Furrier, Digital Archivist, I&T To: Lillian Lillihammer From: Heather Garrison Subject: Re:Fw:Re:Old AO Project You Started Hey Lillian, You owe me. You can buy this week. I'll let you know what I find out. Heather Garrison, Researcher To: Heather Garrison From: Lillian Lillihammer Subject: Re:Re:Fw:Re:Old AO Project You Started So you want to go out with me? You're being so bold Heather, on professional SCiPnet too! Here's my old unfinished file that they found on it, hope it helps! Dr. Lillian Lillihammer, Memetics Chair Item #: AO-8688 Special Containment Procedures: AO-8688 is in Site-43's I&T Isolation and Storage area, kept within containment chamber IT-8688. Description: AO-8688 is a set of anomalous objects consisting of a desktop computer, monitor, peripherals and assorted unknown components. AO-8688 has undetermined anomalous properties - the Foundation is, however, positive that containment should be continued. I'm sure it's important, I'll get to it once I can get Eileen off my ass. Addendum: Hey, this is Lillihammer — I swear I'm going to get back to this eventually, so NOBODY ELSE TOUCH IT, okay? Really Lillian? You thought that this might help me? I haven't looked at it in a while, alright? What does the file say? You still haven't looked at it? It explains why nobody else worked on this file, they're all too scared of you and your threatening addendum. I'll show you my threatening addendum. Following this email correspondence, Researcher Garrison attempted to locate AO-8688, to begin further research. VIDEO LOG DATE: 11/19/2018 NOTE: Footage is from Foundation security cameras within Site-43's I&T AO containment archive, inside of Chamber IT-8688. Heather Garrison was the only researcher in attendance. [BEGIN LOG] Heather Garrison enters the chamber, placing a pad and pen on the desk, as well as setting a tape recorder down. She presses "record". Heather Garrison: This is Heather Garrison, taking care of Lilli's messes. I mean, examining AO-8688. AO-8688 appears to be some old computer covered in a thick layer of dust. I don't think the dust is anomalous. Heather wipes her finger over the keyboard, and the monitor turns on. Current information suggests that AO-8688 has been plugged in to a power source for the entire span since last worked on by Dr. Lillihammer Heather Garrison: It's still plugged in? Lillian, don't you know you should always power down your electronics? Now let's see— Dr. Garrison looks at the monitor — an unlock screen for a currently unidentified operating system is displayed. The image stutters, glitching and being replaced with a minor cognitohazard for 5 milliseconds. Heater winces, and looks away. Heather Garrison: Well. That's definitely Lil's work — I'd recognize it anywhere at this point. It feels like her. Heather begins to write on the page. As she does, she dictates to the tape recorder as well. Heather Garrison: I am now transcribing this with pen and paper, as I record it into a vocal recorder. I believe that I have been exposed to a minor cognitohazard designed to induce forgetfulness or lack of interest in this anomalous object. I believe that this is the result of Lillian's possessiveness, and not related to the anomaly. However, due to the fact that the anomalous effect may be more than just one of Lillihammer's creations, I am recording this across multiple media forms, in an attempt to avoid any antimemetic effects. Heather puts down her pen and stops the recording. She releases a frustrated, but subdued yell of frustration. Heather Garrison: Thanks Lils. Guess you have to help me out here. [END LOG] NOTE: Dr. Garrison exited the containment chamber, and appeared to pause for a second. After a beat, she resumed walking, exhibiting only slight symptoms of disorientation. After Dr. Garrison examined her notepad, it is noted that she reacted in surprise and frustration based on the contents. Okay, in my defense - it's really funny. Like it's so rough and a complete hack job of a meme? I can't believe I made this. I can't believe you work-roofied me, from something you did over two decades ago. Can you please fix this? Huh. Two decades? Yes Lillian, time unfortunately, marches ever onwards. I don't think that's right. Lilli, it doesn't matter how many times you blow up the site, time is still passing. Hmm. Doubtful. After Dr. Lillihammer was alerted to the existence of a cognitohazard limiting research into AO-8688, a countermeme was developed that negated the effect, allowing Dr. Garrison to continue research into the anomaly. After beginning research into the AO, Dr. Garrison moved for the object to be reclassified as a full SCP. Reclassification is pending. You are currently viewing an outdated version of this document. View current revision? ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8688" by Queerious, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8688. 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-8692 | safe | Item#: 8692 Level2 Containment Class: safe Secondary Class: none Disruption Class: vlam Risk Class: warning link to memo Remains of the church at the center of SCP-8692. Special Containment Procedures: A perimeter has been established around SCP-8692, with at least one member of Foundation personnel surveilling the area from Outpost-31 at any given time to prevent civilian trespassing. Should any unauthorized personnel be seen within the perimeter, Mobile Task Force Delta-18 ("Big Irons") are to be dispatched to retrieve the intruder, who is to be brought to Area-09 for interrogation and administered Class-A amnestics. Objects SCP-8692-1 through SCP-8692-4 are to be kept in separate standard containment lockers at Outpost-31 when not in use for testing. Description: SCP-8692 is the burned-out ruins of a town in the Great Basin Desert, Nevada, approximately 2.2km² in area and █ miles from Area-09. Subjects entering the area of SCP-8692 report an abnormally heightened sense of dread, often to the point of inciting a “flight” response, with certain subjects instead reporting a desire to commit an act of violence regardless of any history with violence. These urges are consistently reported to be motivated by a feeling of revenge. Four anomalous objects were discovered and retrieved by MTF Delta-18 during the initial quarantine and sweep of SCP-8692. These objects are listed below. SCP-8692-1: A Stetson-brand ten-gallon hat, believed to have been manufactured in 186█. The object contains trace amounts of Tartarean Resonance Energy. Hair samples taken from SCP-8692-1 were evaluated by Foundation researchers, but provided no DNA.1 SCP-8692-2: A dagger composed of an iron handle and a blade made of an unknown metal alloy. The blade itself is stained with dried blood, which was tested for DNA. None was present. SCP-8692-2 is the only object of the set that does not emit or contain any TRE. SCP-8692-3: A wooden acoustic guitar of unknown make and model. The leftmost string of the guitar is broken. Similar to SCP-8692-1, the object contains trace amounts of TRE. SCP-8692-4: An 1851 Colt Navy Revolver containing a single .36 caliber round in its cylinder. All attempts to dislodge the round without firing the weapon have been unsuccessful. Both the round and an unknown symbol on the handle of the revolver emit a high concentration of TRE. Subjects who make direct physical contact with any of the four objects report a brief burning sensation in the part of their body that made contact and hearing an unfamiliar voice whisper something in their ear (see Testing Log SCP-8692-B). Discovery: When Area-09 was considering new training grounds for MTFs, Agent ████ was sent to survey a single square kilometer of the desert near the Area. Agent ████ promptly returned to Area-09, reporting that she had found the burned ruins of a town but felt an anomalous sense of extreme dread that forced her to retreat. SCP-8692 was deemed a cognitohazard and MTF Delta-18 was formed from agents with particularly high CRVs, who were then able to establish the bounds of SCP-8692 and identify objects SCP-8692-1 through SCP-8692-4. Addendum SCP-8692-A: During routine surveillance of SCP-8692, personnel have reported seeing various people and hearing various noises within the perimeter. These have been hypothesized to be hallucinations, as none of the trespassers have been caught on security footage and none of the sounds (which include screams, gunshots, and the crackling of firewood) have been traced to a source. + Testing Log SCP-8692-B - Testing Log SCP-8692-B Subjects making physical contact with any one of the anomalous objects listed previously report hearing an unfamiliar voice say a single sentence to them. There are no consistent traits of the voice, and it changes to be unique between subjects. Below is documentation of all known phrases associated with SCP-8692-1 through SCP-8692-4, courtesy of Dr. Scotts. SCP-8692-1 "He was lost." "That damned town would burn." "I’m a pretty average Jane." "I remember when the afternoon sun would warm our hearts." "Mom always wanted me to do the chores." SCP-8692-2 "All hail!" "We never did anything wrong." "Of course he would protect us." "We never knew her." "He was perfect." "He was found." SCP-8692-3 "I’m not sorry." "They did it, I could hear him." "Who else could I turn to?" "I told you so." SCP-8692-4 "I knew you had it in you, kid!" "It’s what they deserved." "No, no idea. Never met him." "I’ll bring some friends along." "Always happy to lend a hand." "Don’t leave me here." UPDATE 10/12/20██: As of Experiment SCP-8692-12C, further messages given by the objects have consisted of nonsensical Latin sentences. Therefore, this list is unlikely to receive any further updates. If you wish to see a collection of the nonsensical phrases, please send Dr. Scotts a message. Access SCiPNET Email? One (1) new message! Re:Advice Regarding SCP-8692-4 To: Dr. Dora Scotts From: Dr. Adeliene Mallory Subject: Re:Advice Regarding SCP-8692-4 Dear Dr. Scotts, Thank you for reaching out. I have taken great interest in this project, and I have spoken with coworkers in the Parareligions Division in a hope to identify the organization that you believe to have occupied the area. As of current, there is no reason to believe that the area was occupied by a parareligion, but we cannot be sure. As for SCP-8692-4, it's very possible that it may contain an entity as you described. It's also possible that the round or firearm itself is a demonic artifact. I have put in an experiment request with administration in the hopes to take a closer look, and it should reach your desk soon. As of now, it is my expert opinion that the round inside of SCP-8692-4 should not be discharged until we can be absolutely certain what will happen. Best regards, Dr. Adeliene Mallory Department of Tactical Theology Demonology Division Ne redeant ad abyssum. Footnotes 1. Whether this genetic information was removed anomalously is currently under investigation. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8692" by NothingToAnOcean, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8692. 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: Halabiye_Church_Ruins.jpg Author: Verity Cridland License: CC BY 2.0 Source Link: https://www.flickr.com/photos/58789412@N00/4103169472 |
SCP-8699 | esoteric-class | Sirius sits alone at a table set for two, knowing the other seat will never be filled. He can't bring himself to stop setting out a plate for her. Item #: SCP-8699 Special Containment Procedures: As SCP-8699 effects are localized to Foundation Thaumaturge Sirius Reverend and pose no threat to the veil no efforts are currently being made to contain and/or neutralize SCP-8699's anomaly. Description: SCP-8699 is a continuous series of anomalous events surrounding Sirius Reverend following the death of Vivian Reverend on July 27th, 2013. These events typically manifest while Reverend is home alone, but have manifested in multiple other locations, and, in rare cases, in front of other people. A brief list of manifestations has been compiled by Researcher Jack Simmons, on the behalf of Sirius Reverend, below. For a full list, please refer to document 8699-Events. Addendum-8699-1: Reverend falls asleep whilst reading a book. When he wakes the book is sitting on his bedside table, a bookmark denoting the exact page he had left off on. A cold glass of water sits beside it, four ice cubes floating inside. He stares at the glass silently. Two mugs — one denoted with the letter "S", the other with the letter "V" — sit beside Reverend's coffee machine. Out of habit he pours two cups of coffee, leaving the second behind as he walks off. When he returns the second cup is nearly empty, save for about a centimeter of liquid at the bottom. He pours out the rest, but the old, ringed stain along the bottom remains. Three flowers sit on Reverend's living room windowsill. He hasn't watered any of them in weeks, but they have remained healthy nonetheless. At some point a written note manifests next to the plants but Reverend pretends not to notice. I'm sorry about Vivian, Sirius. It's fine. No, it isn't. It's unfair, and it's okay to feel upset. I'm fine. Okay! Okay. Just- I'm here for you if you need me, alright? Thank you, Simmons. I'll be okay. Reverend is practicing thaumaturgy alone in his backyard. For a moment he feels eyes upon him from behind. Absentmindedly, he switches to practicing a more visible spell, finishing the casting with an extra, unnecessary flair of thaumaturgic energy one wouldn't usually add. Faint laughter and claps echo from behind him, but when he turns around the sound is gone. He sighs and resumes practicing non-visible thaumaturgy. Reverend is standing outside of Site-37, staring up at the stars as he smokes for the first time in several years. The sky is clear, hundreds of stars shining amidst the black sky. A shooting star streaks past and Reverend breaths out a silent wish. He lowers his gaze, and for a moment he sees Vivian standing across the street, frowning slightly. His breath hitches. He takes a step towards her, but a car passes between the two, and she is gone. He looks between the stars and where Vivian had "stood." He stomps out the cigarette. On May 21st — Sirius and Vivian's anniversary — Reverend drinks himself to the point of blacking out, during which he sends approximately thirty six messages to Vivian's phone number, the general message of which is that he misses her. When he wakes up the next morning, a text notification pops up under her name, but when he opens it there is no message. He drops the phone on the floor, shattering the screen, before falling back into bed. He does not show up for work. It should have been me. Reverend, stop. It was my shift. I was supposed to be there. You couldn't have known. I miss her, Simmons. So much. It'll get easier, Sirius. I promise. When, Jack? When? It is July 27th, 2014, one year after Vivian's passing. Reverend sits alone in his shower, head buried in his arms and legs as cold water pours down upon him, blending with his own tears. He faintly hears the curtain open and close, hears the quiet creak of metal as the "hot" nozzle is turned and the water heats up, just as it did every time she joined him. The water burns his skin, a blazing reminder of her. Reverend remains in the shower for nearly two hours. On four separate occasions Reverend drafts a resignation notice email to Site-37's Director Asher Celzin. All four attempts fail; The first two attempts to send the email are met with software errors, the first deleting the message and the second outright crashing the program. On the third attempt the message is successfully delivered, but is somehow redirected to Jack Simmons' inbox as opposed to Director Celzin's. The fourth attempt is also redirected, but to Vivian's email instead, whose email tagline reads "To a brighter future, we march!" Reverend sobs quietly to himself for several minutes before closing the email program entirely. Get up, Sirius. We're going out. Simmons, I really can't right now. I wasn't asking. I'll be at your house in 15, and I'm dragging your sorry ass out whether you like it or not. Look, if this is about the resignation notice, don't worry. I didn't end up going through with it. I care about you, not your employment, you buffoon. Now are you going to get ready or are you really going to square up against this hunk of human perfection? You're eight inches shorter than me. Harr, harr. Be there in 10, now. Okay? Okay. Reverend returns to work and is greeted by a post-it note on his desk which reads "To Better Days <3". He smiles sadly, pulls it off of his desk, and sticks it to the bottom of his PC's monitor. An hour into his shift, he draws a heart of his own on the note. Whilst cleaning his living room, Reverend accidentally knocks over one of the vases on the windowsill. It shatters against the ground, but the rose inside survives. Reverend slowly moves it to one of the remaining vases, only to notice that the remaining flowers have begun wilting slightly, along with the note beside them which reads "It's your turn to water them, sweetheart." Reverend cleans up the shattered vase, and carefully waters the flowers. Reverend falls asleep whilst reading a book. When he wakes, the book is sitting on his bedside table, but the bookmark nestled inside is set within a different page. When he opens the book, the denoted page is a chapter titled "Bittersweet Goodbyes." The glass of water does not appear alongside it. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8699" by Trintavon, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8699. 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-8700 | keter | It is not kingly responsibility that comes from drawing the sword from the stone, rather it is the doom of mankind and the end of all things. Volcanic eruption of Mt. Etna, caused by SCP-8700-1 activity during an Excalibur event. Special Containment Procedures: Due to its immobile nature, SCP-8700 is housed within Site-536, a largely subterranean modernised medieval fortress disguised as a volcanic research station located within the lower eastern slope of Mt. Etna. Site-536 is equipped with multiple redundant fire suppression systems, extensive fortification, strategic choke points, automated weaponry/artillery, and ground penetrating radar for the purpose of monitoring SCP-8700-1's position and activity level. SCP-8700 itself is physically restrained in place via heat resistant locking mechanisms and a ballistic glass containment vessel atop a 70 metre tall column within its containment chamber. The column is 40 metres from the sole entry point, accessible only via mechanical drawbridge. Access to SCP-8700s containment chamber is limited to daily inspections by technicians accompanied by SCP-8700-A. Level 3 and higher personnel are forbidden from entering the containment chamber, unless actively preventing an Excalibur Event. Historic entrance to Site-536 upon acquisition in 1953, leading towards SCP-8700. In addition to standard Foundation personnel, Site-536 is to house a dedicated defence force at company strength. All on-site staff must score highly on weekly anti-coercion tests, and staff are to be rotated through other Foundation sites to mitigate the mental effects of SCP-8700 exposure. No personnel are to remain within SCP-8700s area of effect for two months or longer, with an additional two months before they may be allowed to work in Site-536 again. In the weeks preceding an Excalibur Event, Site-536 is to be reinforced by a minimum of two companies of armed task forces, typically sourced from MTF-Nu-7 ("Hammer Down") operatives. All Foundation staff joining Site-536 are to be inducted with SCP-8700-A. No open flame may be produced on site, and all on-site personnel are to be equipped with gas masks at all times in preparation for the appearance of toxic gases. Reptiles that manifest within Site-536 are to be captured by on-site herpetologists when safe, and relocated via Wilson's Wildlife Services. Stores of antivenin are to be housed on site in the event of envenomations. Individuals approaching Site-536 are to be redirected under the guise of avoiding noxious gases. Any persons circumventing the site perimeter are to be subdued by on-site defences and relinquished to local authorities. All areas known to be within SCP-8700's area of effects have been sealed to the public under the guise of volcanic research. Upon the detection of an Excalibur Event a search is conducted for signs of SCP-8700-2 manifestation within a 200km radius of Site-536 via satellite heat mapping, police reports and standard Foundation surveillance. When located, SCP-8700-2 instances are to be intercepted and contained for later remote termination. Should this not be feasible, the usage of air strikes, naval strikes and other militarised activity may be approved on a case by case basis in order to terminate the anomaly on location. Should an instance reach Site-536, on-site personnel, defence forces and armed task forces are to take up defensive positions and terminate the entity by any means necessary. The on-Site AIC will aid personnel in terminating the entity via remote operation of blast doors, usage of water cannons and automated weaponry. SCP-8700-A is authorised to aid Foundation personnel in the defence of Site-536, and is to be supplied with necessary equipment, including SCP-8700-A1, to aid it in combat. Ongoing research is to be conducted into the origins and nature of SCP-8700, with extensive ongoing interviews to be conducted with SCP-8700-A, with the goal of forcing SCP-8700 into a more stable condition. A cache of Ichneumon class weapons1 are held on-site for research and contingency purposes. Description: SCP-8700 is a 4.6 metre long two-handed sword, similar in form to 16th century Venetian swords, that has been driven into a large igneous stone via unknown means. The stone is anomalously hard, measuring 10 on the Mohs hardness scale, and bears faded Latin engravings upon its surface. SCP-8700 is ornate, with numerous rings and parrying lugs, a convex blade edge, octagonal pommel, and multiple thaumaturgic runes etched into the surface of the handle and blade, composed of a mixture of various varieties of steel. 1.6 metres of the blade has been exposed from the stone, with the remainder of the blade still housed within. MicroCT scans show that the blade of SCP-8700 was previously embedded within the stone to a depth of 3.4 metres, but the channel it has left will not allow for the sword to be re-inserted. The blade is extremely sharp, capable of slicing through organic material with minimal force applied2. Due to SCP-8700's large size making it impractical for use by a non-anomalous humanoid, it is theorised to have been forged from multiple other weapons, supported by the size and patterning of SCP-8700's steel. SCP-8700 produces an area of anomalous effect within a 444 metre radius of itself, the most significant of which is mind-affecting in nature. Persons within this radius are susceptible to feelings of greed, irritability and anger, as well as manifesting signs of narcissistic personality disorder and pyromania. Audiovisual hallucinations are also common, typically in the form of hearing growls, hisses and slithering sounds, as well as seeing golden eyes in dark spaces or reflections. These effects worsen with prolonged exposure to SCP-8700's effects, but can be mitigated by counselling and medications, though risks becoming permanent aspects of the individual's personality and mentality if exposed for excessive amounts of time3 or if the individual is more susceptible to mental coercion. Persons affected in such a way may develop severe progressive ichthyosis over their entire body should they remain within SCP-8700's area of effect for greater than three months. Open flames within SCP-8700's area of effect possess anomalous properties. Fire in the area will burn at higher temperatures while using less fuel than non-anomalous fire, and material will catch fire more easily; non-anomalous paper will catch fire at 451 Centigrade, but has ignited at temperatures as low as 200 centigrade within SCP-8700's area of effect. Noxious gases spontaneously form in the area, typically sulphur dioxide or chlorine trifluoride. Additionally to this, various reptiles will spontaneously manifest within SCP-8700's area of effect, typically emerging from volcanic vents, air ducts, and desk drawers. These were initially believed to be exclusively native reptiles, but following a 2008 manifestation of several komodo dragons (Varanus komodoensis) within the site barracks and the 2011 manifestation of a fierce snake (Oxyuranus microlepidotus) within a desk drawer, this is no longer the case. These reptiles appear drawn to SCP-8700 via anomalous means, and will behave with aggression, particularly during Excalibur Events. Research and experience has shown that the further SCP-8700 is pulled from the stone, the more acute and widespread the above effects become. This is the result of the sword functioning as a thaumaturgic seal, keeping an entity historically referred to as "The Wyrm", henceforth referred to as SCP-8700-1, beneath the mountain. Research and interviews suggest that the full removal of the sword from the stone will allow SCP-8700-1 to escape its prison beneath Mt. Etna, resulting in a catastrophic eruption and a potential K class event. SCP-8700-1 can be detected via ground penetrating radar at a depth of approximately 3300 metres below sea level, within a large magma chamber. Though readings can only give a vague impression of the entity's size and form, it is clear that SCP-8700-1 is colossal in size, with estimates ranging between 800 and 1700 metres in length. It appears to be six limbed, with a long neck and tail. SCP-8700-1 posses an indeterminate number of necks and heads, with scans detecting between one and several dozen heads at different times. Long range microphones often observe acoustic events described as growling, hissing and roaring, emitting from SCP-8700-1's vicinity. These recordings are made within the same time period during which surface-borne equipment detects volcanic emissions. While capable of limited movement, SCP-8700-1 appears unable to move from its position as if restrained. These thrashing movements can cause volcanic eruptions as they force magma towards the surface, and increase in frequency and vigour leading up to Excalibur Events. Engravings and carvings found within Site-536 depict it as an enormous draconic creature. Said engravings portray it as having a very long neck in relation to the rest of its body, as well as a flattened, fanged head with some resemblance to the lizard family Varanidae, with some researchers arguing a resemblance to a crocodylimorph. Its skull also appears to bear a mane, or many spines and horns; analysis of the stone has found the remains of gold flake pigment in engravings of the entity's eyes, informing a yellow or golden eye colour. It is frequently depicted with fire emerging from its mouth, and followed by various creatures not matching any existing wildlife. Certain depictions, notably those believed to be associated with an ancient Greek origin, depict the entity with multiple heads, with a damaged segment possibly having depicted a humanoid. These artefacts have raised the possibility of a cultural link between SCP-8700-1 and the entity known as Typhon, a divine monster defeated by Zeus in Greek mythology. Excalibur Events: Every four to six years, SCP-8700-1 will enter an active period termed an "Excalibur Event". These periods induce an increase in volcanic activity in the region through SCP-8700-1's direct physical seismic influence, and directly correlate to the manifestation of SCP-8700-2. SCP-8700-2 are reptilian creatures of variable size and shape, which will develop direct knowledge of SCP-8700. These entities may originate either through the sudden metamorphosis of an apparently random or unrelated human being somewhere on the island of Sicily during the beginning stages of the event, or rarely spontaneously emerging from mountainous earth in the general region of Mt. Etna. Upon manifestation, all SCP-8700-2 instances will proceed to make their way toward SCP-8700 and Site-536, destructively creating as direct a path as they are capable of. They will not seek out prey, but display an extremely violent defence response. While the specific size and biology of SCP-8700-2 individuals is inconsistent, they universally develop a knowledge of SCP-8700's location and a single-minded desire to remove it from its lodging, with formerly human individuals losing any interest in their previous lives. They may range from 300 to an excess of 5000 kilograms in mass, with human-origin individuals being smaller. All 8700-2 specimens have extremely thick and scaled skin, and develop novel organs (a 'third lung' appearing to produce volatile gases and fluids) rendering them capable of emitting explosive blasts of flame from their mouths. The usage of these blasts has been observed to damage the entities' faces and throats, particularly if the instance is newly formed. After this initial period, however, SCP-8700-2 instances prove more or less immune to most small arms fire and anti-vehicle munitions, as well as an absolute resistance to thermal weaponry and heat. Expired individuals violently combust within seconds of termination. Damages caused to the residence of Pino Ammaniti in Pedara in the hours following Mr. Ammaniti's transformation into a SCP-8700-2 entity. The process of a person becoming a SCP-8700-2 instance is not fully understood, but can be detected through various signs, spikes in temperature being the most reliable. Individuals in the process of becoming a SCP-8700-2 instance radiate an increasing amount of heat, initially appearing as a severe fever, but soon progressing into the hundreds of degrees. This is accompanied by massive increases in aggression and loss of personality in the afflicted person, before a rapid metamorphosis occurs over a period of 10 minutes to 48 hours, though the instance will continue to grow and mutate the longer it survives. The core temperature of an SCP-8700-2 instance continuously increases, to the point of combusting material on contact. They are capable of tool and weapon use, but are generally of below human intellect in most regards. Unless terminated, human borne SCP-8700-2 instances typically survive between 10 and 30 days before the strain of their internal temperature causes them to self immolate. Spontaneously manifested SCP-8700-2 instances can be detected by a more gradually emerging and more extreme spike in local temperature in the area in which they appear. These instances are more easily detected and take longer to emerge than human borne instances, but are much larger and more destructive on average, with a greater variance in form and threat projection. SCP-8700-2 instances typically cause widespread destruction in the path between their origin point and Site-536 if not terminated or contained promptly, and present a significant risk to normalcy, property and life in the area. They often display sadistic and needlessly destructive behaviours towards civilians in their path, and in some rare cases individuals exposed to SCP-8700-2 instances' bodily fluids can themselves be transfigured into secondary instances themselves. Instances have proven to be growing larger, stronger and more durable with each Excalibur Event, necessitating greater effort and resources to contain. Addendum 1: Notable Excalibur Events While the majority of Excalibur Events are anticipated and conclude with the swift containment and termination of the SCP-8700-2 instance, some events have proven more noteworthy. Below is a brief history of some of the more significant Excalibur Events, along with how they were resolved. Date: 27/10/1963 Location: Vita, Sicily Description: SCP-8700-2 instance manifested through Fillipo Luna, a local mechanic and bare knuckle boxing champion. Specimen was 4.6m tall, bipedal, scaled and possessed three heads. Termination: Contained on site by Foundation personnel, terminated via liquid nitrogen immersion. Notes: The instance proved adept at improvising weaponry, terminated 8 MTF members. Date: 18/06/1978 Location: Pedara, Sicily Description: The SCP-8700-2 instance manifested through Pino Ammaniti, a farmer under police investigation for ties to a kidnapping and ransom plot in the area. Upon full manifestation, the entity was a large worm-like creature possessing four heads, resembling eyeless versions of Mr. Ammanitis. It possessed three arms and a multitude of large white, fleshy, finger-like protrusions it used to move. It constantly produced a cognitohazardous wailing sound that affected the ability of humans to perceive it. Termination: Following its emergence, the entity was able to use its ability and proximity to Site-536 to enter the site, causing 38 staff casualties. It was terminated via multiple decapitations and bodily trauma by SCP-8700-A. Notes: The appearance of the entity so close to Site-536 is cause for great concern, and led to the adoption of a wider site perimeter and reprogramming of the on-site AIC to target difficult to perceive entities with greater effectiveness. Date: 15/01/1983 Location: Mt. Pecoraro, Italy Description: A gradual heat spike was detected in Mt. Pecoraro, but appeared not to manifest as the entity seemingly formed underground and did not surface. Readings showed that it approached Site-536 underground, emerging into the sea at the southern edge of the Italian mainland before continuing its approach. It vaguely resembled a 24 metre long multi-limbed fossorial viperfish, producing intense flames from between plates of its carapace. Termination: Due to the speed at which it moved, the SCP-8700-2 instance was able to reach Site-536 before it could be intercepted by the SCPS Gurthang, and was able to assault the site. It was terminated at south-east defensive position 2 via sustained howitzer fire after being immobilised by SCP-8700-A. Notes: Following the entry of the entity into Site-536, the installation of an additional seven blast doors was approved. Date: 13/10/2006 Location: Palermo, Sicily Description: Vincenzo Emile Marco, a convicted mass murder serving a life sentence in Pagliarelli prison was transfigured into an SCP-8700-2 instance within a solitary confinement cell over the course of 18 hours before emerging as a 7 metre tall winged humanoid possessing large horns and a skeletal head reminiscent of extinct predatory synapsids, capable of producing molten lava from its body. It breached its cell and approached Site-536 via multiple means, including the usage of automotive transport. Termination: The SCP-8700-2 instance was terminated within Site-536 in a joint effort between Site staff, armed task force personnel and AIC operated weaponry before being bludgeoned to death by SCP-8700-A. Notes: Upon breaching the prison cell, the instance displayed significant cunning in avoiding attack and detection by Foundation forces, allowing it to reach Site-536 in a short period of time. It proved particularly vicious in its assault, making frequent use of any weaponry it was able to acquire and incorporating wreckage into its body to act as armor. Date: 03/05/2012 Location: Mediterranean Sea Description: SCP-8700-2 instance manifested through Aitana Abatantuono, an online influencer performing a photo shoot on her yacht. Upon transformation, the entity was a 3.6 metre long semi humanoid figure with a piscene tail, finned wings and talons which dove into the water and approached Site-536 at great speed. Termination: The entity was intercepted en route to the site by the SCPS Gurthang, an horizon class destroyer, and terminated via depth charges. Notes: Cavitation proved to be an extremely effective method of termination. Naval activity was explained to be a training exercise of the Italian navy. Date: 30/11/2015 Location: Comino, Malta Description: A nine headed serpentine entity bearing a pair of humanoid arms covered in a thick carapace, dozens of spines, also possessing 40 pairs of vaguely human arms along its length measuring 8 metres long and weighing 900kg emerged from the earth on the northern edge of the island, causing a small fire as it emerged. It was able to spit venom in a manner similar to spitting cobras. This venom proved extremely potent and necrotic. Termination: The entity was able to down a Foundation A-10 aircraft by firing long range streams of molten lava from its mouths, but in spite of this was rapidly engaged by Foundation ground forces and forced into a mobile containment cell with minimal casualties, before being transported to a remote site to be terminated via cavitation and arms fire. Termination attempts have thus far proved unsuccessful. Notes: The removal of a head from the specimen prompted the rapid growth of an additional two heads from the site of the wound. At present the instance possesses 47 heads. Addendum 2: Discovery and History of Site-536 SCP-8700 was discovered by the nascent Foundation in the 19th century, but only taken under Foundation control in 1953 when it was discovered that it had fallen under Chaos Insurgency control four years prior4. Once containment procedures were established, the Foundation set about cataloguing and documenting all materials, inscriptions and iconography present within what was now termed Site-536. Multiple items of note were found, including Chaos Insurgency weaponry seemingly derived from the effects of SCP-8700 that were reverse engineered by the Foundation into the Ichneumon class lancer. Of particular note were numerous inscriptions in 33 languages within the castle detailing the emergence of a "Dragon" or "Wyrm"5 from Mt. Etna on the 15th of July, 1529 which proceeded to wreak havoc and devastation across Europe for thirty years, producing a multitude of monstrous children to carry out its will. The presence of the wyrm's offspring spread like a pestilence6. While people fled the continent in terror or remained in their homes, hiding from SCP-8700-1, the entity incinerated armies and sacked cities, plundering their wealth and transporting it to its lair in Mt. Vesuvius. In this thirty year period, an order of knights and sorcerers formed to end the wyrm's reign of terror. A prominent member of this order, only ever named as "The Urdalṭaši", declared that the wyrm had previously been defeated by an Olympian king thousands of years before, and had been sealed within the mountain. While their skill and sorcery was great, it could not compare to that of the Olympian king, and thus would require the forging of a "Holy and fell" blade. Members of the order were dispatched to retrieve various artefacts to be used in the sword's construction, such as "The sword of Briton", "The swords of Roland and Charlemagne" and "The wrathful blade of the North." With these relics, the "Great Blade" was forged and inscribed with powerful magic and runes to defeat and imprison the wyrm. The founder of the order and greatest warrior among them, a potentially anomalous man of unknown name and origin, was chosen to wield the blade. He was imbued with all the magic and blessings the order and those opposed to the wyrm could provide, making him "Greater and more terrible than the dawn." He was dubbed "the Fell Hand", and quenched the blade in the blood of one of the wyrm's children in order to draw the entity out. The order then proceeded to Mt. Etna to issue their challenge, for only there could the wyrm be imprisoned. While the above details varied between inscriptions and books, the following passage remained consistent across all versions, and has been included below. Issuing a mighty shout, the Fell Hand thrust his sword into the sky, its mighty blade shining like the sun beneath the darkened heavens. In his rage and hubris, the dread Wyrm came screaming from the sky, and his landing laid low many men. His fury was so great that his roars and bellows deafened many, but the Fell Hand stood strong. The Wyrm charged, spewing flame and hatred in equal measure. The Fell Hand charged, swinging his blade with more might and skill than this world shall ever witness again. For 40 days and 40 nights their battle raged. The Wyrm's children laying low the companions of the Fell Hand, and the companions slaying the Wyrm's foul children upon the mountainside in turn. Come dawn of the final day, the Fell Hand drew to him both his closest brother Macarius Vschar and the secretive mage The Urdalṭaši, conspiring to bait the Wyrm into one final trap, upon which the hopes and fates of all men would rest. Drawing the Wyrm into the open, Macarius took the body of the Dragon's son, holding it aloft as a fell banner. In his bottomless rage and malice, the Wyrm came for Macarius, spewing black magick from his eyes and flame from his throat. With his mighty blade and the last of his will, the Fell Hand sprung from his hiding place and plunged the sword deep into the Wyrm's belly and rent its body with a mighty cry. Never before had the Dragon met such injury at the hands of men, and he cried out in terror, seizing the Fell Hand in his mighty claws even as the Urdalṭaši, that mightiest of sorcerers, led his disciples in opening the earth. The Wyrm laughed cruelly, believing he had slain the Fell Hand even as it slid into the chasm. 'What wilt thou do now?' It laughed 'Now thy meagre champion lies dead before thy feet?' The Fell Hand's voice once more rang out, a mighty roar of defiance and fury as he plunged the sword into the stone of the earth with his dying breath, and caused all the world to hold still as though holding its own breath. Defeated by the might of the Fell Hand, the magick of the Urdalṭaši, and the sacrifice of Macarius, the Wyrm was struck by a mighty thunderbolt, channelled by the Urdalṭaši through the sword itself, which smote his ruin into the fiery depths of the earth. Here we remember the Fell Hand, mightiest of men. The Urdalṭaši and his order, whose like will never again be known, and the brave souls of the Order, whose sacrifice brought a new dawn for all the world. An illustration of Macarius Vschar prior to the emergence of SCP-8700-1. Further details of the history of SCP-8700 and Site-536 detailed that following the containment of SCP-8700-1, the Urdalṭaši, a suspected Daevite thaumaturge, ordered the construction of a castle at the site of SCP-8700 in order to defend it from any who would seek the release of SCP-8700-1. While the magic imprisoning SCP-8700-1 was great, it was suspected that whatever force had held it previously was far greater, necessitating additional means in order to protect SCP-8700. He then worked with the smiths who made SCP-8700 to fashion a suit of armor for the mortally wounded Macarius Vschar, which was inlaid with the remains of SCP-8700's materials and thaumaturgic runes of great power. Macarius was sealed within the armor as his final resting place, and a thaumaturgic ritual was performed at the cost of Urdalṭaši's life which resulted in the creation of SCP-8700-A, who was sworn to guard the castle forever. Numerous other documents and items of note were found and catalogued within the site, including various depictions of SCP-8700-1 from various dates between 540BC and 1610AD, an armory containing various well preserved 16th century weapons and armor7, minor anomalous items, a mausoleum bearing multiple names, including that of the Urdalṭaši and a monument dedicated to the Fell Hand. Modernisation of the site has revealed anomalous building methods presumed to have been the work of medieval thaumaturgy and numerous wards preventing the site being consumed by Mt. Etna's emissions. Addendum 3: SCP-8700-A SCP-8700-A History, Behaviour and Nature of SCP-8700-A Interview 8700-A:27/10/1993 SCP-8700-A. Item #: SCP-8700-A Standard Containment Policies: Two-person residential module (no amenity restrictions) Access to site library, recreational facilities, cafeteria, and internal public areas (supervised) Educational curriculum enrolment Fortnightly psychological review Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8700-A is to be housed in a reinforced OCHRE-grade Thaumodisruptor8 equipped humanoid containment unit adjacent to SCP-8700's primary containment chamber. While SCP-8700-A does not require rest or biological functions, it is to be allowed to keep its own space as reward for good behaviour. This space is equipped with a crucifix, paint supplies and non-haptic e-reader. With supervision, SCP-8700-A is permitted to perform inspections of SCP-8700 and Site-536 freely provided it does not interfere with Foundation activities, but may not exit the historic sections of the Site. Any suggestions made by the entity on the containment procedures of SCP-8700 are to be noted and taken under consideration. SCP-8700-A may not physically interact with Foundation staff unless in the interest of their safety during an Excalibur Event. It has been fitted with a remote activated OCHRE-grade Thaumodisruptor in the event of an escape attempt. During Excalibur Events SCP-8700-A is permitted to access SCP-8700-A1 from the on-site armory for the purposes of defending SCP-8700, but is not permitted to use firearms. Description: SCP-8700-A is a self-ambulatory suit of mid 16th century plate armor measuring 2.3 metres tall and weighing 160kg, with an average plate thickness of 12mm. It is a dull steel colour and inscribed with numerous thaumaturgic runes inside and out, many of whose functions are not currently understood. Similarly to SCP-8700, it possesses a hardness of 10 on the Mohs hardness scale, and is extremely resistant to deformation. Despite being exposed to extreme temperatures in excess of 1900C it has never shown any sign of approaching it's melting point. It has been constructed in such a way as to not open or be removed from a wearer, and probe cameras have shown that the interior of SCP-8700-A possesses numerous rods and spikes bearing faint traces of ossified tissue encrusted into them that would make it impossible to be worn. The thaumaturgic runes and inscriptions seen on the interior of SCP-8700-A are of a more complex nature than those on the exterior, and are believed to be at least partially responsible for the anomaly's animation. These runes produce a faint red glow, and have been theorised to partially derive power from SCP-8700's effects. SCP-8700-A possesses an extreme level of strength, endurance and speed. Testing has shown it to lift in excess of 3200kg overhead, and during Excalibur Events it has been witnessed dismembering SCP-8700-2 entities unarmed. It is not hindered by the presence of toxins, lack of oxygen or when submerged in water. While it does not possess vocal cords or a mouth, SCP-8700-A is capable of speech, which emerges from within its helm. It speaks in a deep, somewhat muffled voice with an accent of indeterminate origin. It is able to perceive its environment to the same degree as a baseline human despite the lack of sensory organs, possessing vision, hearing and a sense of touch, but has reported an inability to taste or smell. SCP-8700-A is extremely proficient in combat, particularly when armed with blunt or edged weapons. Referring to itself as Macarius Vschar9, SCP-8700-A has an understanding of multiple languages, but appears to have a preference for Latin and Old English. It possesses knowledge of much of the history of 14th, 15th, 16th and 17th century Europe, and has expressed interest in learning more about the world. SCP-8700-A appears to be religious, and practices a form of renaissance-era Christianity. Although willing to engage in conversation or aiding Foundation staff when requested, SCP-8700-A is primarily concerned with guarding SCP-8700 and ensuring it is not removed from the stone. While it will allow Foundation staff it is familiar with to examine and touch SCP-8700 under its supervision, the subject will attempt to bodily restrain all others from approaching the sword, reacting violently if repeated attempts are made. On the approach of an SCP-8700-2 instance, it will react with extreme violence, but has been noted to attempt to preserve the lives of Foundation personnel around it while doing so. SCP-8700-A1 is a large, ornate European longsword constructed entirely of the same material as SCP-8700-A. It measures 1.95m in length, weighing 7.3kg, much heavier than comparably sized weaponry. While similarly durable, heat resistant and rust-proof as SCP-8700-A, SCP-8700-A1's only additional anomalous property is its resistance to dulling, always possessing a razor sharp edge. History of SCP-8700-A SCP-8700-A was discovered by Foundation precursors in the 19th century alongside SCP-8700, and was initially contained as a hostile entity within an on-site cage, presumably with considerable loss of life. The brief occupation by the Chaos Insurgency between 1948 and 1953 did not reverse this trend, though upon Foundation acquisition the entity appeared agitated and hostile. It is not known if SCP-8700-A's containment was permanent or if it was permitted to intervene in Excalibur Events as it is today. Initially the Foundation sought to contain SCP-8700-A on-site, which was achieved with little difficulty. It was studied much like any other anomaly, taught modern languages and allowed to communicate with Foundation researchers. While non-hostile, the entity repeatedly expressed a desire to be freed and reiterated the threats posed by SCP-8700, 8700-1 and 8700-2. It was not until 1967 when an Excalibur Event threatened the security of SCP-8700 that SCP-8700-A breached containment. Initially there was confusion and panic as efforts to terminate the incoming SCP-8700-2 entity were split to re-contain SCP-8700-A, allowing the former entity to enter SCP-8700's primary containment chamber. Despite the efforts of the MTF, the 8700-2 instance was able to grasp SCP-8700 and attempt to pull it loose of the stone. It lifted SCP-8700 18mm10 before being intercepted by SCP-8700-A, who rapidly ejected the entity from the chamber before bludgeoning it to death with a fire extinguisher. SCP-8700-A then returned to its containment cell peacefully. When questioned about its behaviour, SCP-8700-A stated only the following. SCP-8700-A: "I guard the sword. I care not for all else. Do your duty and cease interfering with mine." Following this, tentative steps were taken to test the possibility of integrating SCP-8700-A into SCP-8700's Containment Procedures. These tests were consistently successful and low risk over a period of 14 years and the course of 3 Excalibur Events, acting to aid and protect MTF and other Foundation lives numerous times in the process. This eventuated into a provisional Thaumiel classification, which gradually evolved into SCP-8700-A's current containment procedures. Behavioural Evaluation of SCP-8700-A When questioned on the nature of its existence, SCP-8700-A reaffirms the details of numerous inscriptions in tablets and books within the site, claiming to be the "Soul" of the knight Macarius Vschar, transferred into a suit of armor in order to guard SCP-8700. It frequently cites the thaumaturgic runes inscribed into itself as evidence of this. Based on scans, research and study into these runes, it is the position of the Foundation that SCP-8700-A's consciousness is a psychic imprint of an individual used in the creation of the anomaly11. When presented with this theory, SCP-8700-A reacted with signs of distress and prayed within the site chapel for 13 hours before requesting that information not be relayed to it again. SCP-8700-A devotes the majority of its time to tending toward SCP-8700, patrolling the historic portion of Site-536, prayer in the chapel, training drills, painting, and reading. While willing to engage in discussion with Foundation personnel, it is often described as terse or cold in its bearing and occasionally judgemental in nature. It appears fascinated by modern technology and music, but frequently dismisses media as nonsensical, inaccurate or blasphemous. During Excalibur Events SCP-8700-A demostrates a large degree of competency and knowledge in regards to combat and tactics. It displays a single minded determination to neutralise SCP-8700-2 instances, often employing pragmatic but extremely violent means, particularly in the defence of Foundation personnel or SCP-8700. Despite this, SCP-8700-A has expressed a distaste for violence, and claims that it only does what is necessary. SCP-8700-A has made frequent requests to be allowed to visit the grave site of a woman it claims is its sister, identified as "Eve", 1.3km from the entrance to Site-536. These requests have been denied. SCP-8700-A Psychological Review: 1993 Interviewed: SCP-8700-A Interviewer: Dr. Andrzej Rodda Foreword: The following is a transcript of SCP-8700-A's 1993 psychological review meeting, whose purpose is to review the entity's behaviour, mindset and potential issues that have been discussed in standard sessions throughout the year. 1993 proved an eventful year at Site-536, with lessened staff turnover, an Excalibur Event, and the adoption of art therapy for SCP-8700-A. Interview is conducted within SCP-8700-A's containment cells. <Begin Log> Dr. Rodda: Good evening 8700-A, I'm here for your psych review. Are you all set to get started? SCP-8700-A: Yes. Is it? Dr. Rodda: I'm sorry? Is it what? SCP-8700-A: Evening. Dr. Rodda: Oh, yes, it is. You can see the time on the clock, there, remember? SCP-8700-A: It has no face, I cannot trust it. Dr. Rodda: Yes it's digital, only until a replacement for your old one arrives. You remember we showed you how to read it? SCP-8700-A: Yes. Dr. Rodda: Right, so we'll start with how you're feeling then? SCP-8700-A: As usual. Fulfilled. Dr. Rodda: Care to elaborate? SCP-8700-A: I guard the sword. Comply with regulations. But it is good to have brothers in arms once more. A marked improvement over my years in solitude. Dr. Rodda: I see, so you feel a sense of camaraderie with the agents employed here then? SCP-8700-A: Yes. Dr. Rodda: The last Excalibur Event, do you have any thoughts on it? SCP-8700-A: Yes. The children of the dragon are growing stronger. I was aggrieved to have been unable to aid in its destruction. Dr. Rodda: You keep calling them that. Why? SCP-8700-A: It is what they are. Spawn of the dragon, to be slain like the beasts they are. Dr. Rodda: I see. No other thoughts on the event then? SCP-8700-A: Yes. You must fortify the land to break the children before they penetrate the keep. Too many were wounded in its assault, and if the dragon is planning worse we may be taken unawares. Dr. Rodda: I'll let the higher ups know you said that. Though it was an interesting one, it is a shame we couldn't keep it here for study. SCP-8700-A leans forwards, gesturing emphatically with its hands. SCP-8700-A: Do not do such a thing. Dr. Rodda: Calm down, 8700-A. I was joking. SCP-8700-A crosses its arms and leans back in its chair, looking away for a moment before nodding. Dr. Rodda: Good. Thank you. Now, how are you enjoying the art therapy? Dr. Simmons told me you have been spending more time painting lately. SCP-8700-A: It is an enjoyable activity, if frivolous. Dr. Rodda: May I see what you have painted recently? SCP-8700-A turns and retrieves a stack of slate tiles, each bearing a painted picture, and places them on the table. Dr. Rodda: This is the 8700-2 instance from the seventies? Dr. Rodda lifts the first painting and holds it towards the camera to display the image. It depicts a large, eight limbed reptilian entity within Site-536 with flames emerging from its mouth. Black humanoid figures surround it, firing upon it with firearms as a silver figure impales it. SCP-8700-A: Yes. Dr. Rodda: Is there any reason you chose to paint this? SCP-8700-A: It was a moment of triumph, when I found a new brotherhood with your Foundation. I learned you are of a stouter heart and bloodier disposition than I first gave you credit for. Dr. Rodda: I see, very good. I like this one of the horse here. Dr. Rodda lifts up one of the paintings, angling it towards the camera to display the image. It depicts a vaguely mammalian quadruped in a field of grass. SCP-8700-A crosses its arms again. SCP-8700-A: That is a hound. Dr. Rodda: Oh. I see. SCP-8700-A: I have not seen one in many years, It is unfair to judge my efforts in such a way. Dr. Rodda: It's alright! Better than what I can do, well what about this one, is this your sister? Dr. Rodda lifts a third and final tile, angling it to the camera. It is a portrait of a young woman with black hair, dressed in early renaissance garb. SCP-8700-A's charcoal drawing. SCP-8700-A: Yes. Dr. Rodda: You still miss her. SCP-8700-A: Yes. Dr. Rodda: It's been hundreds of years. SCP-8700-A begins to bounce its knee rapidly, looking around the cell. Its voice grows strained. SCP-8700-A: I live in the shadow of her murderer. It whispers to me of how it twisted her mind and made her forget herself. It mocks me with her dying words and how it let her remember who she was before she was smote upon the stones. I am tormented with memories of the pathetic being it reduced her to. I should have been present to defend her from such a curse, not fetching a sword from a lake. Dr. Rodda: Eve's death was not in your control, 8700-A. You have said yourself that even the Fell Hand couldn't have saved her. You being there too would have simply led to your death or falling under that thing's control as well, and then who would be here keeping the dragon from re-emerging? You work with us to ensure the same doesn't happen anyone else. In that way you honour her memory, remember? SCP-8700-A sits hunched, arms crossed and bouncing its knee for a long moment before nodding slowly. SCP-8700-A: I swore vengeance for her fate. Even after I aided in sending it into the fire I did not feel the peace I hoped for. Still it taunts me with her last words before it drove her mad. Its eyes. Its eyes, she cried. How I desire to thrust my blade into its heart for what it wrought. Dr. Rodda: This kind of trauma takes time to resolve, 8700-A. If you continue to discuss these feelings and pursue the art therapy, it can help ease these feelings. SCP-8700-A nods. SCP-8700-A: I shall persist. Ever has this place allowed the dragon to fill men’s hearts with pain and avarice. I shall not falter like the others before me. Dr. Rodda: I'm glad to hear that. You refer to the people who staffed this site before its abandonment? What happened to them, in your opinion? SCP-8700-A: The dragon corrupted their hearts, and they fell to their vices because they did not know what their failure would unleash. They had not lived it as I had under the wyrm's reign. Dr. Rodda: You believe that first-hand experience with 8700-1 would have helped these men to resist SCP-8700's effects? SCP-8700-A: Yes Dr. Rodda: Come on, no more one word answers. How would that have made a difference? SCP-8700-A sighs deeply, resting its head against its fist, before beginning to speak. SCP-8700-A: The dragon fell upon the land like a plague. Many believed it was the apocalypse, but no trumpet was heard and no horsemen were seen. Only its unholy cries and disgusting spawn. It laid low city after city, consumed entire armies. The blood flowed in raging rivers. I saw the frail citizens fleeing the carnage swept away by the torrents. Those who opposed it were reduced to ash or eaten if they were fortunate. Those who were not were enthralled by its hideous eyes, reduced to ravening beasts crawling in the muck, naked like dogs. Thousands fled, but all the ships were burned. Wizards and flesh crafters raged against it to no avail. The remnants of the armies it had shattered were hiding or turned to banditry. With none left to oppose it, the dragon and its foul offspring ravaged the land and her people unchecked, killing at will. It had dominion over all the land, and it demanded tithes of blood, gold and fear. Men were reduced to living as beasts in caves, hiding, frightened of shadows and terrified of flame. Not since the days of the Olympians had such a terror blighted the land. The air was full of screams and laughter as people were hunted down like game, and one could not escape the reek of ash and blood and fear. Not with fifty thousand men could you oppose such terrible might. Without the Fell Hand this existence would have endured far longer than thirty winters, and his kind has long since vanished from the world. Those who fell never knew the terror of those dark days. They never knew the grief and the rage. They did not understand what lay at stake, for how could they had they not lived through it. Their hearts were full of hope and desire for the future rather than hate, and that is what laid them low. Dr. Rodda frowns and examines SCP-8700-A across the desk. Dr. Rodda: Are you implying that we have the same attitude towards SCP-8700? I assure you that we know full well what is at stake here. The Foundation has more experience in containing dangerous items such as these than anyone else on the planet. I don't need to remind you that you are permitted to defend SCP-8700 at our discretion. SCP-8700-A nods slowly. SCP-8700-A: I understand. I do not believe your people are like those men. While you did not suffer under the wyrm's fist, you have a pain behind your eyes of a similar ilk. You have tasted despair and grief and the weight of unknowable responsibility, if not at the hands of the dragon then from some other terror of whom I know not. We are united in this cause, and it is good to have brothers and sisters in arms once more. Dr. Rodda: I'm glad, but you still seem tense. SCP-8700-A: Rather what I fear instead is that the dragon is planning something. He is more cunning than how he has acted. He has powerful children, but does not wield his strength to as deadly effect as he might. Something is coming. I can feel it. Dr. Rodda: What sort of something? Something you have encountered before? SCP-8700-A: I do not know. But he is plotting something. I am sure of it. <End Log> Closing Statement: SCP-8700-A continues to adhere to all orders given to it, and performed well during the previous Excalibur Event. While it is experiencing elevated levels of grief in regards to its claimed sister "Eve", this is to be expected with its therapy and is expected to improve over time. Its paranoia regarding SCP-8700-1 is worth noting, but based on all research and SCP-8700-A's personality I do not believe it is a significant concern. I am overall pleased with the progress SCP-8700-A has made these last months, and recommend no changes to its current containment procedures. Dr. Andrzej Rodda Addendum 4: 20/02/2024 Excalibur Event Incident. In early 2024 ground penetrating radar detected a significant increase in SCP-8700-1 activity within Mt. Etna's magma chamber consistent with those preceding an Excalibur Event. Armed mobile task force personnel were directed to deploy at Site-536 in preparation for the event and await orders. A temperature spike was recorded on the property of ██████ ██████████12 53km from Site-536. Mobile task force units were mobilised to intercept a potential SCP-8700-2 entity, awaiting its emergence for 17 hours before Mr. ██████████ underwent transformation into an SCP-8700-2 instance, causing his home to rapidly burn down on the 20/02/2024. The entity was engaged by a company strength mobile task force waiting in ambush, but this proved unsuccessful. Despite the deployment of significant force the SCP-8700-2 entity continued a rapid approach towards Site-536, appearing entirely unharmed. After multiple airstrikes were delivered but showed no sign of slowing the entity, Site Director George Eddings ordered a second company to intercept the entity alongside SCP-8700-A. This decision was questioned by Site-536 staff, initially believing Director Eddings to be overly stressed and unwell, but they ultimately accepted the directive. Upon arrival at the SCP-8700-2 instance's location 17km from Site-536, SCP-8700-A engaged the creature. The engagement lasted 98 minutes, leaving 26 mobile task force members killed in action, but resulted in the successful termination of the SCP-8700-2 instance. Despite this, SCP-8700-1 continued its heightened level of activity. MTF forces returned to Site-536 to debrief and treat injuries before being redeployed to their home bases, with un-deployed and unharmed MTF forces departing immediately. SCP-8700-A requested to visit its sister's grave following its return to site, which was approved by Site Director Eddings provided it was escorted by its supervisor and a contingent of four containment acquisition specialists, citing a lack of any threat following the Excalibur Event. This decision was widely criticised by staff, who believed that Director Eddings' decision making ability was compromised by a severe fever he had suffered the night prior. The events that followed the departure of SCP-8700-A were recorded from multiple body cameras and on-site security cameras, and took place over the following 113 minutes. Following the apparent conclusion of the Excalibur Event, a covert containment transport vehicle departed the site containing SCP-8700-A restrained in the rear containment compartment. SCP-8700-A was dressed in oversized civilian clothing to disguise its anomalous nature. Present in the vehicle was SCP-8700-A Supervisor Ignatius Fiore and Containment Acquisition Specialist agents CAS-1 Salvatore, CAS-1 Deccoco, CAS-1 Slade and CAS-1 Bean. They travel approximately 12 minutes to reach the location of the historic cemetery where SCP-8700-A's alleged sister is buried with orders to re-contain or terminate SCP-8700-A should it attempt to escape. Within Site-536, site Director Eddings can be seen within his office, observing the departure of SCP-8700-A via computer. He appears pleased, standing from his desk and clutching his chest as he staggers to a cabinet. He hurriedly removes his tie, jacket and shirt, revealing his torso and left arm are experiencing extreme ichthyosis, visibly spreading and thickening across his flesh. He takes a glass jar and scalpel from the cabinet and proceeds to cut a long incision across his chest, catching the blood in the jar and filling it. The blood is mildly luminescent, with a golden shimmer to it. He does not speak during this process. He re-dresses, seals the jar, places it in his briefcase and appears to practise genial expressions in his mirror before moving from his quarters to the mess hall. The hall is at maximum capacity, with MTF agents and site staff celebrating the successful Excalibur Event and preparing for a meal. The atmosphere is jovial and full of sound. Director Eddings proceeds to work his way through the crowd, shaking hands with various personnel before entering the kitchen unnoticed. The kitchens are empty save for Director Eddings, who produces the jar from his briefcase and pours its contents into one of three drinks dispensers by the door. He then exits the kitchens and re-enters the mess hall, standing against the North wall and gesturing for Mess Officer George Sapkowski to approach him. Mess Officer Sapkowski: Hell of a day here George, what can I do for you? Director Eddings: Oh yes, hell of a day! With this crowd it won't only be our dragon slayers hard at work. What are you cooking up for us tonight George? Mess Officer Sapkowski: Well I thought since were celebrating I'd swap dinner for lunch, give these guys a good send off you know? So we'll have the gazpacho and chicken salad tonight, and the seafood platters now. It’s all ready to come out whenever you give the word. Director Eddings: Excellent, excellent idea! I'll tell you what though, before we start sending out food I'd love to say a few words, give a proper thank you to our brave guests. Can I get you to bring out the drinks cart, get everyone a glass so I can say a toast? Mess Officer Sapkowski: You got it, no problem. Mess officer Sapkowski turns and addresses the kitchen staff. Alright, alright, break it up guys, go get the drinks cart out, these folks are thirsty! The kitchen staff begins pouring and distributing drinks. Director Eddings: Like a well oiled machine they are, George. Mess Officer Sapkowski: Thanks, George, just one of the perks of hiring a culinary superstar such as myself. Both laugh. Director Eddings retrieves two glasses from the contaminated dispenser, handing one to mess officer Sapkowski. Mess Officer Sapkowski: Thanks very much! Director Eddings: Well, us Georges need to stick together, don't we? Both laugh. Director Eddings moves to the front of the room, standing on a chair to be better seen. He smiles and waves to the crowd before clinking his phone against his glass and addressing them. Director Eddings: Good morning everyone! May I have your attention please? Alright, settle down, yes. Nolan get out of the kitchen, we're eating in a minute. Alright! I know you are all having a wonderful time celebrating the completion of another Excalibur Event, and I could not be more pleased with all of you! Cheering from the crowd. Director Eddings: That was quite some monster! But you boys are made of tough stuff, and handled it like the Foundation's finest! However, I must dampen spirits for a moment. I want to commemorate the brave men and women who lost their lives this morning, keeping the world safe. They died in the dark so that the civilians of the world can live in the light. It's a heavy price to pay, I know. But I would gladly pay that price myself to protect those I love, and so would all of you. More cheering from the crowd, less enthusiastic. Director Eddings: So I say thank you, and a moment's silence for the brave souls lost today. They will be immortalised in our memories. Director Eddings lowers his head and clasps his hands together in silence, followed by all in attendance doing the same. There is silence for 12 seconds. Director Eddings: Lest we forget. This is repeated by those gathered. Director Eddings: Now, since you have all been working so hard these last few months, I thought it only fair that you be rewarded with something to drink at least, no? Enthusiastic cheering. Director Eddings: <Laughs.> I thought so! So let us raise our glasses to the fallen, may they rest in peace, and may we at Site-536 look forward to a brighter, better future! Cheers! The crowd cheers and all present drink, including Director Eddings. The Director steps off his chair. Director Eddings: Now come on all of you! Enjoy today, and this afternoon we'll get back to work. Enjoy yourselves please! The crowd begins to talk amongst themselves. Director Eddings heads for the door, but is approached by Mess Officer Sapkowski. Mess Officer Sapkowski: Nice speech, George, not a bit hot under the collar there are you though? You're sweating something awful. Are you alright? Director Eddings: Fine, fine, just need to get back to work now is all. Mess Officer Sapkowski: Yeah, but come on, you alright? Do you need any— Director Eddings: Shut the fuck up and get back in the kitchen. Now. Director Eddings hastily leaves the room. Mess Officer Sapkowski appears shocked, but returns to the kitchen. Director Eddings: Pathetic worms. Director Eddings proceeds from the mess hall towards systems engineering, removing and discarding his tie as he goes. Ichthyosis can be seen spreading up his neck, with smoke emerging from areas of exposed flesh. He approaches the Site-536 AIC central monitoring hub, ignoring the technicians as they stand to address him. AIC Technician Venturi: Director? Is there something wrong? Wait, Director, you can't go in there, Director! Director Eddings pauses at the door to the AIC console chamber before grabbing a desk chair and flinging it at AIC Technician Venturi. The chair connects with her head, neck and chest, knocking her down. Blood can be seen pooling around her head on the floor. AIC Technician Riccardio stands and attempts to draw his firearm, but is attacked by Director Eddings, who disarms him before impaling him through the chest cavity with his arm. Claws have formed on his fingers, and smoke is now billowing from his skin and clothing. He then turns to the door and wrenches it open with a great deal of strain. Klaxons sound site wide as the AIC deploys defensive weaponry. Site-536 AIC: CEASE HOSTILITIES. YOU HAVE 5 SECONDS TO COMPLY. Director Eddings Be silent, simulacrum. Director Eddings enters the AIC console chamber and begins inputting shutdown commands. His flesh can be seen writhing and his clothes tearing as he physically expands. His clothing combusts as he types. The MTF and site-536 personnel gathered in the mess hall have ceased celebrations. Many have produced their weapons, and are reacting in confusion. Non-combatant personnel are directed towards their nearest emergency shelters. Site-536 AIC: SHUTDOWN ATTEMPTED. EXCALIBUR EVENT IN PROGRESS. ADDITIONAL EXCALIBUR EVENT IN PROGRESS. SCP-8700-2 ENTITY WITHIN AIC CONSOLE CHAMBER. TERMINATING SCP-8700-2 ENTITY. Automatic weaponry and water cannons are deployed site-wide, with those present within the AIC console chamber opening fire upon Director Eddings. The Director falls to the ground in the fetal position, emitting growling vocalisations before combusting violently, destroying the AIC control console and damaging the AIC's central processor. All automated defence systems freeze in place and lose power, ceasing operation site-wide. Director Eddings undergoes a rapid mutation into an SCP-8700-2 instance. His skull expands, sprouting numerous horns and his mouth elongating into a crocodilian muzzle bristling with teeth. The new structures appear to emerge from beneath Director Eddings' skin, which tears open and sloughs off in places as the process continues. A long tail erupts from his rear, with his hips splitting apart and taking a new position as his legs increase in muscle mass. Rows of spikes and a thick carapace emerge from the instance's body as it rapidly increases in size and mass, and its vocalisations change from those of Director Eddings into bestial growls. The instance thrashes about violently as it transforms, causing significant damage to the structure around it. Simultaneously in the mess hall, all personnel that consumed drinks from the dispenser contaminated by Director Eddings, approximately 43% of those present, are rapidly undergoing a similar process. As they clutch their heads and torsos, screaming, those unaffected are seen to both flee to other areas of the site or remain to aid the afflicted, with a large portion of the remaining MTF members led by Cmdr. Reul Bratt hastily falling back to the tertiary defence zone outside SCP-8700's containment chamber. The personnel affected by the contaminated drinks then undergo rapid mutation into secondary SCP-8700-2 entities, increasing in size by approximately 10%, bursting into flame and growing thick scales which can be seen to emerge from underneath their skin. Clouds of gas can be seen emerging from the ventilation system. The unaffected personnel still within the mess hall are severely impacted by the transformation of the afflicted, with numerous traumatic amputations being recorded and others catching fire. Those unharmed begin to flee, but are set upon by the secondary SCP-8700-2 instances. Many can be heard attempting to reason with the transformed individuals, only to be cut off by bodily assault. The few that fire upon transformed individuals are quickly dismembered. Laughter can be heard from the instances, who continue to mutate, sprouting horns, claws and tails at random. A loud roar is heard echoing through the site, drawing the attention of the secondary SCP-8700-2 instances, which turn to see the primary SCP-8700-213 instance enter the mess hall, ducking to fit through the doorway. SCP-8700-2 Alpha: Arm yourselves, my children. It is time. Under the command of Cmdr. Bratt the MTF forces deploy fortifications outside SCP-8700's containment chamber, including heavy weaponry and water cannons. The doors to the containment chamber are sealed with a 4 man squad inside to operate the doors, welding them shut. SCP-8700-2 Alpha leads the secondary instances to the site armory, ripping a red panel from the wall of the restricted section labelled Project Ichneumon. It opens the cabinet and begins distributing the advanced weapons among the secondary instances. SCP-8700-2 Alpha: You four, leave this place. Hunt down the wretch and break him. Bring me his head. Four secondary SCP-8700-2 instances turn and head for the site cargo depot, leaving a trail of molten lava behind them. SCP-8700-2 Alpha: You defend our rear. SCP-8700-2 Alpha gestures to multiple secondary instances, pointing back towards the mess hall. The rest of you, my children, shall come with me. [END LOG] Leaving the covert transport vehicle parked outside the historic cemetery, Supervisor Ignatius Fiore escorts SCP-8700-A inside. SCP-8700-A is fitted with a tracking beacon and a remote activated OCHRE-grade Thaumodisruptor beneath its civilian disguise. CAS-1 Salvatore, CAS-1 Deccoco, CAS-1 Slade and CAS-1 Bean accompany them to provide additional security. SCP-8700-A approaches a corner of the cemetery by a low stone wall on the cliff top overlooking the sea. It falls to its knees, gently brushing the weeds and dirt from a small headstone. Faint Latin engraving on its surface reads "Eve [Indecipherable] 1563, Beloved and fair." SCP-8700-A: This is her. Supervisor Fiore approaches SCP-8700-A, placing his hand on its shoulder, holding his umbrella to shield them from the rain. The CAS-1 team observes at a short distance. Supervisor Fiore: I'm sorry it took so long. I'll give you a moment with her. SCP-8700-A: Oh, Eve, I am so sorry. Supervisor Fiore moves to stand with the CAS-1 team. SCP-8700-A remains kneeling and begins to clean the headstone. CAS-1 Slade: Hey, Ig. Smoke? Supervisor Fiore: No man, you know I quit. You have to smoke that shit around me? CAS-1 Bean: I mean, kind of since you dragged us out here in all this rain. CAS-1 Salvatore: Just going to have to deal with it, bucko. CAS-1 Deccoco laughs and blows a smoke ring at Supervisor Fiore. It is dispersed by the rain. Supervisor Fiore: Whatever. It's fine. Sure you're not being too casual about all this? CAS-1 Salvatore: Don't think you're forgetting who we are, Ig? We bring down shit ten times worse than the tin can on the daily. It takes one step over that wall and we'll have it locked so deep in containment it will forget that daylight even exists. CAS-1 Deccoco laughs. CAS-1 Bean: What she means is that we have it under control. CAS-1 Slade: Besides, he doesn't look like he's going anywhere. Supervisor Fiore: I suppose. It’s just been a stressful day. I hate going into the field, especially when there's a giant fat frog squirting lava all over the place. Keep me in the office any day. CAS-1: Bean: It can be a lot for people who aren't used to it. CAS-1 Deccoco: Bitches, you mean. CAS-1 Salvatore stifles a laugh. CAS-1 Bean: Hey, that's out of order. Supervisor Fiore: What the fuck, man? CAS-1 Deccoco: You know I was only teasing, relax, Ig. Supervisor Fiore: It's fine. I better see how our friend's going. CAS-1 Slade: Freezing out here. Supervisor Fiore approaches SCP-8700-A. It has cleaned the headstone and graveside, and appears to be praying. It looks at Supervisor Fiore as he approaches and begins to write. SCP-8700-A: You must not allow him to speak to you in such a way. Supervisor Fiore: Don't worry about it. How are you holding up? SCP-8700-A: It pains my heart that she has been alone so long. She— Suddenly there is an extremely loud explosion behind them as a plume of lava and smoke can be seen erupting from the peak of Mt. Etna. The ground shakes, and emergency sirens can be heard sounding from neighbouring towns. The CAS-1 team exclaim and swear, turning back to face the mountain. Supervisor Fiore: Oh fuck! Shit! That can't be natural, not this close after an event, fuck! Supervisor Fiore withdraws his radio and SCP-8700-A rises to its feet. SCP-8700-A: It cannot be. Supervisor Fiore: Site-536 do you copy? What is the situation? CAS-1 Slade: Not fucking good, we need to go! CAS-1 Slade grabs Supervisor Fiore and SCP-8700-A by their shirt collars and hurries them towards the covert containment vehicle. Bean enters the driver’s seat and starts the vehicle, while Deccoco takes the passenger seat. Salvatore is in the back, waving for Supervisor Fiore and SCP-8700-A to hurry over. SCP-8700-A hurries into the mobile containment cell while Supervisor Fiore fastens it within its restraints. CAS-1 Slade takes his position and shuts the door. CAS-1 Salvatore: Go go go! CAS-1 Bean: Everybody hold on to something! SCP-8700-A: This is the work of the dragon. It must be. The vehicle skids its tires in the gravel before accelerating up the road towards Site-536. Supervisor Fiore continues attempting to establish communication with the site. Supervisor Fiore: I say again, this is 8700-A supervisory team, calling Site-536, Site-536 respond, over! CAS-1 Deccoco: Is it another event? CAS-1 Salvatore: We have to assume it is. Keep trying them, Ig. Weapons ready CAS team! CAS-1 Slade: The tin can secure? Put your damn seatbelt on, Sean. SCP-8700-A: Yes. CAS-1 Bean: Little busy at the moment! CAS-1 Salvatore: 8700-A is secure, just keep those eyes open for hostiles! CAS-1 Slade: Yes ma'am. Supervisor Fiore: Site-536 I repeat, this is 8700-A supervisory team, do you hear me? The radio emits static and sounds of gunfire and roaring can be heard. Cmdr. Bratt: <static> Back here NOW! <static> Under attack by <static> —ces, taken position <static> Tertiary defence zone. Distress signal cannot be <static> Need suppor— A loud roaring sound is heard over the radio, followed by an explosion. Gunfire and yelling voices can be heard for a few seconds before the signal is lost completely. Supervisor Fiore: Oh Jesus, oh fuck what's happening up there? SCP-8700-A: Release me, I will aid in the defence of the sword. CAS-1 Salvatore: Get your shit together, Ig, we're under attack and they need our help. Step on it Sean! CAS-1 Bean drives the supervisory team toward Site-536's transit bay at speed. CAS-1 Slade: Put these on, kid, and get ready to use your sidearm if you need to! CAS-1 Slade passes Supervisor Fiore a ballistic vest and helmet, who clumsily dons the equipment. Supervisor Fiore: Right, thanks CAS-1 Slade: Stay low, move fast, do as you're told and use 8700-A as cover. We'll keep you safe, don't you worry. CAS-1 Deccoco: Yeah, you got the big dogs looking out for you now, Fiore. You're probably the safest you ever been. CAS-1 Salvatore: Amen Dom. Everyone be ready to move fast. Release 8700-A's shackles now Ig. We might not have time later. Supervisor Fiore: Okay. CAS-1 Bean: What is that? Supervisor Fiore reaches for the remote containment device as the vehicle rounds a corner to make the final approach to Site-536's transit bay. The site entrance is within view through the rain with the doors open wide. Halfway between the vehicle and the transit bay are four large humanoid entities with glowing yellow eyes, dripping molten lava from the gaps in their torn clothing. They are armed and moving downhill towards the supervisory team. The largest entity is holding a forklift over its head. Supervisor Fiore: What's happening? CAS-1 Bean: Are those Foundation uniforms? CAS-1 Deccoco: Is that a fucking forklift!? The armed entities open fire upon the vehicle. CAS-1 Deccoco opens fire through his open window. Multiple bullets strike the closest entity, staggering it and leaving large puncture wounds that spill more molten lava onto the ground. The humanoid holding the forklift throws the vehicle at the Supervisory team. Supervisor Fiore: Sean, watch out! CAS-1 Bean: Hold on! CAS-1 Slade: Shit. The forklift impacts the transport with great force, causing the airbags to deploy and the containment release to be flung from Supervisor Fiore's hands. All present can be heard crying out amongst tremendous noise as the vehicle slams into one of the anomalous humanoids, pinning it between the vehicle and the ground as the wreck comes to a stop. One of the forklift's tynes has pierced the windshield of the transport and impaled CAS-1 Bean through the chest. He turns to look at the passengers before gasping and slumping in his seat. Gunfire can be heard impacting the vehicle from outside, and a fire breaks out from the pinned entity's body before entering through CAS-1 Deccoco's open window. Sizzling bolts of Ichneumon class lancer fire exacerbate this as they slam into the vehicle's armor plating. CAS-1 Salvatore: Sean! No! CAS-1 Deccoco: Multiple 8700-2 instances! Multiple instances! Elena hurry up, get them out of here! CAS-1 Deccoco continues to fire at the hostiles through his window. Supervisor Fiore is cradling his head and hunched in the back seat. CAS-1 Salvatore shakes him by the shoulders as CAS-1 Slade rips his helmet off, dropping it onto the floor of the vehicle in two broken fragments. CAS-1 Salvatore: Get up Ig, get up! We're taking cover behind the car, and we're getting inside, move out Roy's door, now! Go! SCP-8700-A: Get to safety, I shall extract myself. Send these foul beasts to their doom. CAS-1 Slade slides his door open and exits the vehicle, laying down suppressive fire as he does so. CAS-1 Deccoco also lays down suppressing fire through his window as Supervisor Fiore and CAS-1 Salvatore follow CAS-1 Slade out of the vehicle. CAS-1 Deccoco follows shortly after as the vehicle is engulfed in flames. Supervisor Fiore: What about 8700-A? CAS-1 Slade: Don't worry about that now. It said it's fine. Get your gun out and get down! CAS-1 Deccoco: Focus on that tall piece of shit at 3 o'clock, it’s got a lancer! CAS-1 Slade: On it, Salvatore cover us! The CAS-1 team lays down a line of fire, using the burning vehicle as cover. Supervisor Fiore huddles at their feet with his pistol drawn. The SCP-8700-2 entity wielding the Ichneumon class lancer attempts to fire on CAS-1 Deccoco, but is hit multiple times by CAS-1 Salvatore's suppressing fire. CAS-1 Deccoco simultaneously concentrates fire on the entity, causing it to stagger to its knees and molten lava to burst out of its chest cavity before violently combusting. The closest SCP-8700-2 entity is thrown to the ground by the explosion, its left arm being traumatically amputated in the process. The third entity roars and emits a blast of flame at the supervisory team, further engulfing the wrecked vehicle and pinned SCP-8700-2 instance. CAS-1 Slade: Get back, it can't hold much longer! Supervisor Fiore: Oh fuck, shit, Oh fuck! CAS-1 Salvatore: Move, Ig! CAS-1 Salvatore grabs Supervisor Fiore by the collar and rapidly moves away from the burning wreck as CAS-1 Deccoco and CAS-1 Slade lay down suppressing fire, hitting the SCP-8700-2 instance numerous times. The forklift's rear quarters then explode violently, causing the pinned SCP-8700-2 instance to also detonate, shifting the wreckage and exposing the supervisory team to incoming fire. CAS-1 Slade is hit in the left arm and chest by a blast of fire emitted from the entity's mouth, but is able to dive into cover quickly. Thumping noises can be heard emanating from within the transport vehicle. CAS-1 Deccoco and CAS-1 Salvatore both fire upon the standing SCP-8700-2 instance, perforating it with numerous bullets and causing it to detonate as it collapses to the ground while Supervisor Fiore rapidly smothers the flames on CAS-1 Slade's clothing with his jacket. Before they can react, the downed SCP-8700-2 instance opens fire on the supervisory team. While they are not hit, they are forced into cover within a ditch on the side of the road. The SCP-8700-2 instance approaches the team, molten lava pouring from its wounds, but pauses and looks towards the flaming wreckage as SCP-8700-A partially emerges through its rear panel. The SCP-8700-2 instance roars and redirects its fire at SCP-8700-A. Supervisor Fiore: Over here! We're here! CAS-1 Deccoco: Shut the fuck up and move! CAS-1 Deccoco and CAS-1 Slade grab Supervisor Fiore under his arms and haul him back into cover behind the burning vehicle, while CAS-1 Salvatore lays down suppressing fire. The SCP-8700-2 entity roars once again and attempt to return fire. SCP-8700-A manages to pull itself free of the wreckage before turning and thrusting its arms back into the burning vehicle and retrieving a sheared off axle. Ignoring the incoming fire from the SCP-8700-2 instance, SCP-8700-A throws the broken axle at the entity, impaling it through the neck and chest, causing it to combust. SCP-8700-A: Disgusting wretch. CAS-1 Slade: Fucking hell. Supervisor Fiore: Sean… CAS-1 Deccoco: What the fuck is this, why are there multiple 8700-2's out here? What the fuck is going on? CAS-1 Salvatore: We'll figure it out later, right now we need to get Guts here between these fucking things and 8700. Supervisor Fiore: How? Those things just killed Sean! Even if we make it there's no way we get there in time! CAS-1 Deccoco: Shut the fuck up. SCP-8700-A approaches the supervisory team, ripping the flaming debris and clothing from itself. It places a hand on Supervisor Fiore's shoulder before pounding its chest with its free hand. SCP-8700-A: Take heart, Ignatius. This is a time where you must be brave. I am with you. CAS-1 Deccoco: I don't like the fucking thing but the tin can's right, Fiore. We got no choice. CAS-1 Salvatore: Let's go, you can do this, Ig. Do it so Sean didn't die for nothing. Supervisor Fiore: Alright. I'm in. I'll get him there. CAS-1 Slade: <Handing the Ichneumon class lancer to Supervisor Fiore> Take this and stay close to me alright kid? You're going to make it through this in one piece so long as there ain't no more forklifts for them to toss at us. SCP-8700-A points at the transit bay, making a rolling hand gesture to the supervisory squad. SCP-8700-A: We cannot delay. CAS-1 Salvatore: Agreed, hurry up and get moving! 8700-A take point and cover us! The surviving supervisory team members move rapidly uphill towards the transit bay, taking cover behind SCP-8700-A as they go, leaving the burning wreckage behind them. [END LOG] At the Tertiary Defence Zone Cmdr. Bratt has completed fortifying the area and has MTF agents flooding the kill zone with water cannons in anticipation of an assault by Director Eddings and the secondary SCP-8700-2 instances. A total of 28 MTF and Site-536 personnel man the defences, with many of them wounded from the prior Excalibur Event. SCP-8700-2 Alpha enters the kill zone, holding a large slab of defensive plating ripped from a wall as a shield for itself. Steam billows from its body as it makes contact with the water, obscuring its form other than its luminescent gold eyes. It has mutated further, now displaying a pair of rudimentary wings and measuring approximately 4 metres tall. Dozens of secondary SCP-8700-2 instances rush into the kill zone ahead of it, opening fire with both conventional and Ichneumon class weaponry. A fire-fight erupts, with both sides sustaining early losses. SCP-8700-2 Alpha provides support to the secondary instances by firing streams of molten lava at the defensive positions and taunting the defenders verbally. Despite this, the defences remain strong and the MTF units are able to terminate multiple secondary instances in rapid succession. Elsewhere in the site, secondary SCP-8700-2 instances standing guard can be seen engaging in acts of cannibalism. Others are seen hunting down surviving site staff as they flee to emergency shelters or hoarding valuable items on their person. Site security guard Max Kazimir is seen to neutralise a SCP-8700-2 instance in defence of a group of 36 site staff members, but is captured and subjected to torture by two other instances before being killed. The instances then proceed to attempt to gain entry into Emergency Shelter 19-B in pursuit of the staff, but are unsuccessful. [END LOG] The supervisory team enters Site-536's transit bay with SCP-8700-A. Klaxons are blaring, bathing the area in orange light. A trail of solidified lava leads further into the site through an open door past the parked Foundation transport vehicles. CAS-1 Deccoco leads, using SCP-8700-A as mobile cover, and is followed by CAS-1 Salvatore, Supervisor Fiore and CAS-1 Slade bringing up the rear. Supervisor Fiore grabs a broom from a shelf as they pass and CAS-1 Salvatore closes the exterior doors. CAS-1 Slade: What's that for? Supervisor Fiore: So I can keep them at a distance. CAS-1 Slade: You got strange priorities, Ig. SCP-8700-A: You would be better served by your firearm. CAS-1 Salvatore: Quiet! Entering the corridor now. CAS-1 Deccoco: Taking point. Stay in front of me, tin man. CAS-1 Deccoco enters the corridor through the open door, using SCP-8700-A as cover, followed by the rest of the team. The corridor is empty save for a number of snakes on the ground. CAS-1 Salvatore: Ignore them, Dom. Don't give our presence away. CAS-1 Slade: If 8700-A clanking about hasn't already. Supervisor Fiore: He's not that loud. CAS-1 Deccoco: So it's "he" now? Not very professional, Ig. SCP-8700-A: I am a man. Supervisor Fiore: Suck my an— Deep pitched laughter is heard from around the corner along with banging and scratching sounds. CAS-1 Deccoco uses his phone camera to peer around the corner, sighting a group of three SCP-8700-2 secondary instances attempting to burrow through an emergency shelter door further down the corridor. They are more mutated than previous instances, all standing above 2 metres in height with numerous mutations present on their bodies. CAS-1 Deccoco: Contact, three hostiles, I can't see friendlies but it’s hard to tell. CAS-1 Slade: We'll have to blitz ‘em. CAS-1 Salvatore: I'd rather not risk friendlies. Still, don't see much other choice. Supervisor Fiore: Wait, 8700-A could get them out of the way couldn't it? Then you could see if there's people. CAS-1 Slade: Nice thinking, kid. CAS-1 Salvatore: Can you do that, 8700-A? SCP-8700-A nods, gesturing impatiently for Supervisor Fiore to pass it the broom. He does. SCP-8700-A: Should it not endanger our brethren, I might hold them still enough for you to use your holy hand grenade to smite our foes. Supervisor Fiore: It's just called a hand grenade 8700-A… God, I wanted to be in a position to laugh when that came up. CAS-1 Salvatore: Alright, do it. Deccoco, you're first through, then me and Ig, Slade, you cover the rear. Go! SCP-8700-A charges around the corner with a loud yell, sprinting down the hallway and violently tackling two of the SCP-8700-2 instances to the ground. CAS-1 Deccoco follows and lays down a line of fire directed at the third entity, which is standing over a wounded Dr. Jennifer Ward, who is attempting to reach the emergency shelter. One SCP-8700-2 instance frees itself from SCP-8700-A's grasp and attempts to attack CAS-1 Deccoco but is intercepted by more fire from CAS-1 Salvatore and Supervisor Fiore. SCP-8700-A continuously pummels the downed SCP-8700-2 instance with its fists before grabbing the broom from the ground and bludgeoning the instance to death with it, shielding the Supervisory team and Dr. Ward from the resultant detonation with its body before moving to engage the remaining entities. CAS-1 Deccoco smashes the closest SCP-8700-2 instance in its face with the butt of his weapon before firing a long burst into the back of its neck, causing a shower of blood and molten lava to spray into the air and onto his face. The supervisory team retreats around the corner into the transit bay to avoid the detonation. In the transit bay a fourth SCP-8700-2 entity has emerged from a utility bay and is approaching the team from behind. CAS-1 Deccoco: Roy, behind you! CAS-1 Slade: Wha— CAS-1 Deccoco: ROY NO! CAS-1 Slade is impaled from behind by the SCP-8700-2 instance, its hand emerging from the centre of his chest in a shower of blood. The entity begins biting at CAS-1 Slade's neck and consuming his flesh. CAS-1 Slade attempts to vocalise but can only gurgle and choke, drawing his combat knife and stabbing the entity twice before succumbing to his injuries as he combusts from his proximity to the SCP-8700-2 instance. CAS-1 Salvatore, CAS-1 Deccoco and Supervisor Fiore all open fire on the entity, rapidly neutralising it as the third instance rounds the corner only to be restrained by SCP-8700-A. CAS-1 Deccoco: Kill the fucking thing, Ig. CAS-1 Salvatore: Roy you poor man. SCP-8700-A holds the SCP-8700-2 instance still as Supervisor Fiore opens fire on it. SCP-8700-A redirects it against the wall to limit the damage of its combustion, before moving to escort Dr. Ward to the emergency shelter. SCP-8700-A We must make haste. CAS-1 Deccoco: Shut the fuck up you tin can piece of shit! <CAS-1 Deccoco wipes blood from his mouth and spits on the ground. His skin is red and flushed.> We just lost friends because of you! Because of fucking Eddings breaking the god damn rules and letting you out on a fucking day trip! CAS-1 Salvatore: Dominic, come on. CAS-1 Deccoco: No you shut the fuck up too! I'm sick of this shit! CAS-1 Salvatore: Don't talk to me like that, this isn't like you. CAS-1 Deccoco: I said SHUT UP! <CAS-1 Deccoco's eyes have become bloodshot, with his irises turning yellow.> Supervisor Fiore: Hey man, come on, we just need to— CAS-1 Deccoco: Do what bitch!? You're too chickenshit to do anything but sit behind a desk and now you wanna be big man? <CAS-1 Deccoco aims his weapon at Supervisor Fiore.> You get yourself a magic fucking gun and now you're the boss? Fuck you. CAS-1 Salvatore rapidly disarms CAS-1 Deccoco and throws him to the ground, pinning him there. CAS-1 Salvatore: Dominic, that is enough! CAS-1 Deccoco grabs CAS-1 Salvatore by the wrists and strains against her, overpowering and flipping her. He straddles CAS-1 Salvatore and begins shaking her violently, slamming her head into the ground repeatedly. Smoke emerges from his mouth and beneath his clothing as ichthyosis rapidly forms across his face. CAS-1 Salvatore: Please no, not you Dom… CAS-1 Deccoco screams incoherently and snaps CAS-1 Salvatore's wrist, causing an open fracture. CAS-1 Salvatore screams in pain, and Supervisor Fiore fires on CAS-1 Deccoco, striking his flank with the Ichneumon class lancer. CAS-1 Deccoco roars and begins to stand, raising his weapon towards Supervisor Fiore before being shot numerous times in the torso by CAS-1 Salvatore. Molten lava pours from his wounds onto CAS-1 Salvatore's leg, burning her severely as she rolls away. Supervisor Fiore helps her to her feet as they sprint for the corridor. CAS-1 Deccoco's body detonates as SCP-8700-A enters the room. The emergency shelter can be seen opening behind it. SCP-8700-A: What happened? CAS-1 Salvatore: That wasn't him. Supervisor Fiore: I know. CAS-1 Salvatore: It wasn't him. It wasn't him. Supervisor Fiore and SCP-8700-A escort CAS-1 Salvatore to the emergency shelter. There are 27 Foundation staff visible, and a field hospital has been erected within the shelter. Dr. Ward is being treated for her wounds within the hospital section. No combat trained staff can be seen within the shelter. The survivors within can be heard discussing what has happened as they pass. Dr. Greddock: Put her down here! Quickly! SCP-8700-A lifts CAS-1 Salvatore up and places her into a triage bed. Supervisor Fiore follows. Supervisor Fiore: Will she be okay? Dr. Greddock: She'll have to be, just get that monstrosity out of my hospital. SCP-8700-A: We must make haste. Supervisor Fiore: I don't understand. What's going on? Dr. Greddock: I don't know, some kind of infection, Bratt's taken the MTFs to the tertiary defence zone and put out a distress call to all nearby sites, but no idea when help will get here. There's a lot more of those fucking things out there. Junior Researcher Darling: Dr. Cassandra said that 8700-1 wasn't stopping after the event. She thought it was still underway, and now look what happened! The AIC's destroyed and we're fucked! Dr. Greddock: Shut up and settle down, that's not helping. CAS-1 Salvatore: Go, Ig. Get 8700-A to the sword. Don't let this get worse. Supervisor Fiore: But— CAS-1 Salvatore: NOW! Someone has to get him to that sword before Bratt's overrun, and you're the only one able to move that has clearance! Supervisor Fiore hesitates before sighing heavily and nodding. SCP-8700-A is standing by the door making impatient gestures. Supervisor Fiore: I will, Elena. This won't have been for nothing. CAS-1 Salvatore: Keep him safe, 8700-A. Now take these and get going, hurry! I'll keep in contact with you, just go! CAS-1 Salvatore passes supervisor Fiore her grenade belt and radio before shoving him towards the exit. SCP-8700-A grabs his arm and pulls him out into the hallway as the door slides shut behind them. They hurry through the corridor, dodging snakes and lizards crawling through the site as they go. Distant gunfire can be heard further within the site, and clouds of gas waft through the air. Supervisor Fiore: Jesus Christ, this can't be happening, what the fuck… SCP-8700-A: Blasphemy is a sin. Supervisor Fiore: I'll fucking worry about that later alright? I just had to shoot my friend! SCP-8700-A: It was no longer your friend. Take heart. Supervisor Fiore: I'm so sorry Elena, I know— CAS-1 Salvatore: [Via radio] Shut the fuck up Ig. I'm not talking about that. Just get to the damn sword. Supervisor Fiore: Sorry. Supervisor Fiore and SCP-8700-A round a bend as they approach the mess hall. There are dead bodies, rubble and small fires strewn about the hall, along with seven SCP-8700-2 instances guarding the hallway, with one of them feeding on the corpse of Containment Supervisor Ferruccio Cipollone. They turn to look at Supervisor Fiore and SCP-8700-A for a moment, brandishing weapons and roaring. SCP-8700-A hurriedly retrieves a fire axe from a wall cabinet as it advances on the entities. SCP-8700-A: Get behind me. Supervisor Fiore: Oh FUCK. CAS-1 Salvatore: What is it? Supervisor Fiore: There's seven of the fucking things between us and the mess hall. CAS-1 Salvatore: Throw a grenade then hang back and let 8700-A handle them. Cover it when you have clear shots and keep your head down. SCP-8700-A and the SCP-8700-2 instances charge towards one another, brandishing their weapons. The SCP-8700-2 instances roar and laugh as they approach, jostling for position in the narrow corridor and firing their weapons. Bullets ricochet from SCP-8700-A as it charges. Supervisor Fiore tosses a hand grenade over SCP-8700-A's head, past the crowd of SCP-8700-2 instances before ducking down and rapidly moving backwards, hyperventilating. SCP-8700-A shoves the lead instance back with the haft of the fire axe as the grenade explodes, followed by a howl and a second detonation as an SCP-8700-2 entity in the rear is terminated. SCP-8700-A knocks an Ichneumon class lancer from the hands of an SCP-8700-2 instance before terminating a second with three blows from its axe, lodging it in the entity's head and kicking its body back towards the others where it detonates. The disarmed instance tackles SCP-8700-A into the wall, damaging it, as another SCP-8700-2 instance runs towards Supervisor Fiore. SCP-8700-A kicks out at the entity's knee, causing it to collapse to the ground as another instance fires on SCP-8700-A with an Ichneumon class lancer. SCP-8700-A reels back and lets out a pained grunt, going limp for a moment before attempting to fight back, drawing a combat knife from a sheath on the chest rig of one of the SCP-8700-2 instances and repeatedly stabbing the entity, pinning it against the wall in the face. Supervisor Fiore: Not you too… Supervisor Fiore opens fire upon the SCP-8700-2 entities with his Ichneumon class lancer, causing them to stagger back from SCP-8700-A. The entities roar and scream, but press on with their attack. Though staggered, SCP-8700-A capitalises on the opportunity, kneeing one instance in the jaw before retrieving the mostly melted combat knife and embedding it into another instance's throat, flinging a third instance towards Supervisor Fiore as it attempts to reload its weapon. The entity raises itself from the ground before breathing a jet of flame at SCP-8700-A. Supervisor Fiore retreats further and fires upon it numerous times, causing it to detonate. SCP-8700-A is able to use the distraction to crush another instance's head against the wall with its fist, causing another detonation. SCP-8700-A: Courage, Ignatius, We have them. The three remaining SCP-8700-2 instances rush towards SCP-8700-A, firing streams of molten lava from their mouths and eyes. Supervisor Fiore continues to fire the Ichneumon class lancer at the entities, disarming one of them. SCP-8700-A is tackled and slammed into the floor, cracking the cement. The instance straddles SCP-8700-A and rains punches upon it, with deflected blows sinking wrist deep into the concrete floor. A second instance is kicked back into the mess hall as the third rushes Supervisor Fiore, only be driven back by lancer fire. SCP-8700-A grabs the SCP-8700-2 entity on top of it and gouges at its eyes, driving it back, before grabbing a discarded assault rifle and bludgeoning the entity to death. Its detonation knocks SCP-8700-A and the SCP-8700-2 instance to the ground, while Supervisor Fiore fires upon the entity approaching from the mess hall. SCP-8700-A pounces upon the downed SCP-8700-2 instance and repeatedly bludgeons it with its fists, pausing to retrieve a discarded firearm and throw it at the advancing entity, knocking it down. Supervisor Fiore: Oh Francis… SCP-8700-A: That is no longer Francis, it is an abomination wearing his flesh. Getting to its feet, SCP-8700-A repeatedly stomps the SCP-8700-2 entity's head with its foot, before rushing into the mess hall towards the last SCP-8700-2 instance as the previous entity detonates, leaving the hallway ruined and full of rubble. Supervisor Fiore follows SCP-8700-A into the mess hall before firing upon the entity with his lancer. SCP-8700-A rushes the entity and impales it through the chest with its fist before flinging it across the room towards a toppled drink dispenser cart where it detonates. Supervisor Fiore stares back at the hallway from which they came, while SCP-8700-A approaches the mess hall emergency shelter, dripping with blood. SCP-8700-A: Open the gate. It is safe now. Supervisor Fiore: I knew him. CAS-1 Salvatore: What? Who? Ig are you alright? Ignatius? Supervisor Fiore: Stephens… The guard I just shot. I knew him. Liked him. CAS-1 Salvatore: I… Like Dom… You… Ig I need you need to stay on task. You need to keep moving. What's 8700-A doing? Supervisor Fiore: I don't know. Writing something I think. SCP-8700-A: Why do you not answer? Can you not hear me? SCP-8700-A is using the SCP-8700-2 entity's blood to write a message on the floor within view of the emergency shelters camera system. It reads "I need a weapon." Supervisor Fiore: It's asking for a weapon. From the shelter. CAS-1 Salvatore: Go see if there’s anyone inside. Send them back here where it’s safer. Supervisor Fiore: Right, yes. Okay. Supervisor Fiore approaches the emergency shelter, standing beside SCP-8700-A. The door has remained closed and is heavily burnt and scratched. Supervisor Fiore: Hello? Are there any survivors inside? The intercom activates. Research Assistant Hopper: Is it safe? We barely made it in here. The monsters, they were going to get in and we had to shut the door, we had no choice. Is that thing with you? Supervisor Fiore: Slow down, It’s alright. They’re gone now. We need to get you out of there. The shelter at the transit bay is safer for you right now. SCP-8700-A nudges Supervisor Fiore and points to its message on the ground. SCP-8700-A: They will not heed my words. Supervisor Fiore: And weapons. We need weapons. Any help you can give us. Research Assistant Hopper: Do you have medicine? We're hurt bad here. We need help. Supervisor Fiore: No, but the transit bay shelter has set up a field hospital. The path there is clear. We really need to hurry here, Hopper. Research Assistant Hopper: Alright. We're coming out. Charlie, get Dr Triandafelidis ready to move, will you? The emergency shelter door hisses, and slides open. Inside there are six survivors: Research assistant Mike Hopper, custodian Valeria Lunerti, Dr. Manuel Triandafelidis, kitchen assistant Charlie Bullock, research assistant Monica Ventruella and containment engineer John Lewis. Most are wounded, particularly Dr. Triandafelidis. They are all armed. CAS-1 Salvatore: We have medicine and medical staff. Come to us as fast as you can. Research Assistant Hopper: You're sure that thing is safe? It's not like them? SCP-8700-A: I am nothing like them. Valeria Lunerti: I'll get them to the shelter. You've cleared the way? SCP-8700-A nods and accepts the halligan bar14 offered by Lunerti. Dr. Triandafelidis: You need to hurry. Commander Bratt took everyone to the tertiary defence zone. I don't know how long they'll last without help. Supervisor Fiore: Bratt has put out a distress signal, but we don't know when help will arrive. You need to go, please. SCP-8700-A: You cannot delay, we must reach the sword before the dragon's children do. CAS-1 Salvatore: Good work everyone, let’s go. Research assistant Hopper helps Dr. Triandafelidis out of the shelter. The survivors evacuate the area, headed for the transport bay shelter. Supervisor Fiore sits heavily on a chair, running his hands through his hair and hyperventilating as soon as they are out of sight. SCP-8700-A: What are you doing? We cannot delay. I must retrieve my blade and destroy the dragon's child. Supervisor Fiore: He was my friend, 8700-A. I just shot two of my friends. SCP-8700-A: They were no longer your friends. It was the wyrm that killed them. Not you. Supervisor Fiore: Well their blood's still on my fucking hands isn't it!? First Dom and then Francis! I'm not strong enough for this! SCP-8700-A: Yes you are. It is not the might of one's arm that is of value. It is your heart. <SCP-8700-A taps its finger on Supervisor Fiore's chest.> In the court of the dragon you will know your worth. I believe that worth is great indeed. Perhaps greater than you know. Supervisor Fiore: But how do I live with myself after? <Supervisor Fiore stares at his hands.> I've never shot anyone before. I never wanted to, and now everything's different. I'm different. I'm not me anymore. SCP-8700-A: Only the weak believe that what they do in battle is who they are as men. It is not who you are. Supervisor Fiore wipes his eyes and looks up at SCP-8700-A. Supervisor Fiore: Really? SCP-8700-A: Yes. And with each passing day that burden will ease as you realise this. Come. SCP-8700-A offers its hand to Supervisor Fiore. It is charred, blackened with soot and blood soaked. Supervisor Fiore takes the hand and is helped up. The pair then hurry towards the armory. [END LOG] At the Tertiary Defence Zone multiple water cannons and artillery weapons have been disabled by the SCP-8700-2 instances. The kill zone has suffered extreme damage from the multiple detonations caused by the instance's termination, but they continue to storm into the area. SCP-8700-2 Alpha has undergone further mutation, now standing seven metres tall at the shoulder, adopting a hunched, crocodilian posture and firing high pressure streams of molten lava at the defences. 22 personnel remain in fighting condition as they continue to defend the tertiary defence zone under Cmdr. Bratt's leadership. Cmdr. Bratt: Margheriti, run this to the east flank, they need support! Cpl. Margheriti: Got it! Cpl. Margheriti takes the Ichneumon class heavy lancer and sprints through the transport trench towards the east flank. The air is filled with small arms fire, lancer fire and bursts of flame as the battle continues above. Cpl. Margheriti emerges at the east flank command post in time to see a large chunk of structural concrete slam into a howitzer station, with an SCP-8700-2 instance immediately attempting to enter through the damaged section and being knocked back by lancer fire. Cpl. Margheriti runs to the gunner's tower, climbing the ladder and emerging on the top. Cpl. Margheriti: Sgt. Susta, I've been sent to support you, don't shoot me! Cpl. Margheriti moves to take position, but hesitates as Sgt. Susta drops her weapon and clutches her head. SCP-8700-2 Alpha can be seen below staring at the Sgt. and speaking rapidly, but is unable to be heard from this distance. Sgt. Susta falls to her knees as her eyes begin to emit a golden glow and large horns rapidly emerge from the sides of her head as she falls from the tower into the east flank defensive line. Cpl. Margheriti: Oh, Jesus no. Cpl. Margheriti opens fire into the masses of SCP-8700-2 entities, terminating many of them as they place their bodies between the corporal's fire and the primary entity. The sound of gunfire from below grows quieter before Cpl. Margheriti looks down to investigate, where several MTF combatants can be seen undergoing the same process as Sgt. Susta. The sergeant can be seen below completing its transformation into an SCP-8700-2 entity and launching an attack on those around her. Cpl. Margheriti seals the entry hatch to the gunner's tower and opens fire on the affected individuals. The newly formed SCP-8700-2 instances spread within the east flank, forcing it to be abandoned by Cmdr. Bratt. It is flooded with water cannons and redesignated a hostile zone. With increasing numbers of SCP-8700-2 instances pressing their attack, the primary instance directs more of those equipped with Ichneumon class lancers back towards the armory, before launching an attack via the now fallen east flank. Cpl. Margheriti throws his last grenade into the masses of SCP-8700-2 entities and fires indiscriminately at the crowd below. SCP-8700-2 Alpha can be seen leading an attack on the western flank, throwing a destroyed howitzer at the western gun tower. Cpl. Margheriti fires upon the instance, but is interrupted as an SCP-8700-2 instance claws its way through the gun tower access panel, grabbing his leg. He fires upon the entity, terminating it and attempting to kick its body loose from the tower. He is unsuccessful. Cpl. Margheriti: Figlio di puttana… The detonation of the SCP-8700-2 instance's body destroys the eastern gun tower, leaving the entire eastern flank overrun. SCP-8700-2 Alpha roars and emits a high pressure jet of molten lava at the western flank's defences before multiple MTF combatants eyes begin to glow yellow and numerous SCP-8700-2 instances begin to scale the walls. [END LOG] Supervisor Fiore and SCP-8700-A make their way over the bridge spanning the chasm between the modern and historic portions of Site-536. They take cover behind a partially destroyed defensive position as they approach the battlements of the historic site, having spotted a pair of SCP-8700-2 entities equipped with Ichneumon class weaponry manning them. The cavern lighting system has been damaged, plunging the space into darkness. SCP-8700-A nudges multiple snakes over the edge of the bridge with its feet as they approach Supervisor Fiore. The sounds of the battle in the tertiary defence zone echo towards them. Supervisor Fiore: You don't need to hurt them all, just get the venomous ones out of the way. SCP-8700-A: I care not. Things that crawl on their bellies are the image of the wyrm and its servants. Supervisor Fiore: I have leg guards on, it's fine. SCP-8700-A: You have kindness in your heart. You must steel it for the battle to come. Supervisor Fiore: I know, I know. Give me a second to line up a shot alright? I'm checking the distance from here to the towers. CAS-1 Salvatore: Use the rangefinder in the sight. It'll turn green when you have a clean shot. SCP-8700-A: Battlements. Not towers. Supervisor Fiore: Whatever, I'm doing it. I'm just saying, I've done alright so far. You said so yourself. Never underestimate a Sicilian when death is on the line, you know? CAS-1 Salvatore: Nerd. SCP-8700-A: That play is sinful and nonsensical, you should not take lessons from it. Supervisor Fiore: They're called films, not plays. SCP-8700-A: I care not. Enough bravado, you are adequately prepared. Supervisor Fiore: Deccoco said it could help, but I don't think it does. Even though they're not who they used to be, it still doesn't feel right to shoot them. CAS-1 Salvatore: That worked for him, not you, Ig. Just get through this, and if you're really that fucked up afterwards you can get amnesticised later. SCP-8700-A: You must. Time escapes us. I cannot protect you if they use their sorcery on me. SCP-8700-A gestures to the Ichneumon class lancer in Supervisor Fiore's hands. There is a series of three loud cracking and sizzling sounds as Fiore fires the weapon, hitting the SCP-8700-2 entity manning the east battlement. It cries out as it falls into the chasm below, before detonating as it impacts the ground. The second SCP-8700-2 instance roars and opens fire on their position. SCP-8700-A: A fine hit. Force it to cower, I shall advance. Supervisor Fiore: <nodding and wiping his eyes.> Just like we planned. CAS-1 Salvatore: Just breathe, Ig. Breathe and spray at the tower. Supervisor Fiore nods and raises the weapon out of cover, laying down a line of fire at the battlements and forcing the SCP-8700-2 instance into cover. SCP-8700-A begins to sprint down the bridge, taking cover as Fiore calls out his reloads. This continues until SCP-8700-A enters the gatehouse. Supervisor Fiore continues to fire at the battlement until the SCP-8700-2 instance cries out loudly before a detonation is heard. SCP-8700-A clangs its now partially melted halligan bar against itself, making a loud banging sound. CAS-1 Salvatore: That the signal? Move up, Ig. Supervisor Fiore: I am. I think 8700-A took its head off. CAS-1 Salvatore: Just remember you're in control here, Ig. If it threatens you, tries to leave, anything other than helps you, hit that button. It's not your friend. Supervisor Fiore: I know, I know. SCP-8700-A meets Supervisor Fiore at the gatehouse. No SCP-8700-2 entities are present, allowing them to press onward towards the armory. SCP-8700-A: Are you harmed? Supervisor Fiore: I'm alright. Were you hit? SCP-8700-A: No, but I am experiencing a degree of weakness still from earlier. The sorcery in those weapons is fell indeed. We must avoid it. Supervisor Fiore: Yeah, they're— Oh shit what the fuck! CAS-1 Salvatore: What is it? Ig, what's happening? As they enter the ransacked armory mounds of corpses can be seen piled along the walls, showing signs of torture and execution. Supervisor Fiore gags before bending over double and vomiting on the floor. A large komodo dragon (Varanus komodoensis) emerges from a cabinet, making its way towards a mound and seizing the leg of an unidentified researcher in its jaws, tugging on it. SCP-8700-A: Monstrous. I shall slay the beast. Supervisor Fiore: Oh god. It's a massacre, Elena… Piles of bodies everywhere, burned up. Fucking hell, it smells like pork. There’s a lizard the size of my car here. CAS-1 Salvatore: So fucking hold your breath and shoot it. Get a gas mask on and hurry up. Don't think about it, just do! As SCP-8700-A moves to stab the lizard, a deep rumble is heard within the mound of bodies. A large mass underneath moves violently, pulling the unidentified body and komodo dragon away from SCP-8700-A and dislodging the bodies resting atop it, revealing the mass to be an estuarine crocodile (Crocodylus porosus). The komodo dragon briefly attempts to drag the body away from the larger animal, but quickly relents and is grabbed by SCP-8700-A, who tosses the lizard across the room, causing it to flee towards the guardhouse and out of sight. SCP-8700-A then proceeds to impale the crocodile through the head with the halligan tool. Supervisor Fiore: FUCK! SCP-8700-A: Come. It is safe. CAS-1 Salvatore: What is it? Ig, you need to talk to me, tell me what’s happening. Supervisor Fiore: There was a fucking crocodile. That hasn't happened since 2012, what the fuck? CAS-1 Salvatore: You have a gun Ig, you're more dangerous than any animal. Get armed up and get the tin can to the sword. Do what what's his name does, show me you're not left handed. Supervisor Fiore: I am though. CAS-1 Salvatore: What? Supervisor Fiore: I am left handed, though. CAS-1 Salvatore. Whatever. Just grab the rheinmetall and some class-A armor. It's the best shit we got for resisting heat and impact. Supervisor Fiore: Rain what? CAS-1 Salvatore: Rheinmetall. It’s a grenade launcher. Next to the sniper rifles. Supervisor Fiore: Alright. I see it. Supervisor Fiore follows SCP-8700-A into the armory, retrieving a set of Class-A heat resistant body armor, respirator and grenade launcher as they move. Fiore equips the armor plates before continuing on. Supervisor Fiore: SCP-8700-A1 will be in the locker at the end of the corridor. I'll scan my ID and we'll go meet up with Commander Bratt. SCP-8700-A nods before heading around the corner, and is immediately hit with multiple large calibre rounds. It ducks back around the corner as Ichneumon class lancer fire burns through the air, narrowly missing it. SCP-8700-A: Two of them. They have a sorcerous weapon <SCP-8700-A sighs>. Deploy a holy hand grenade at them so I might advance. Supervisor Fiore: I'm not hit, I'm ok. CAS-1 Salvatore: Good. Keep low, let the tin can do the work. You toss a grenade and hang back. Supervisor Fiore tosses a grenade around the corner and the SCP-8700-2 instances can be heard yelling in alarm before it detonates. SCP-8700-A charges around the corner, screaming, as Fiore covers it from behind. Both SCP-8700-2 instances have been knocked to the ground by the grenade, with one having lost its legs and the other an arm. SCP-8700-A impales the remnants of the halligan bar into one instance's head before turning and disarming the second as the first instance detonates. SCP-8700-A: See how they crumble before us, my friend? You are more capable than you believed. Supervisor Fiore: I guess s— SCP-8700-A: NO! Supervisor Fiore cries out in pain as he is suddenly struck from behind with great force, shattering the central plate of his armor unit, and thrown into a shelving unit by a previously unnoticed SCP-8700-2 instance, causing him to drop his weaponry. The entity is covered in blood and scraps of flesh hanging from its teeth, brandishing a set of long talons at Fiore as it approaches him. It raises an arm and slashes at Fiore, but is interrupted by a sudden and prolonged burst of gunfire ripping through its body as SCP-8700-A advances upon it, holding a smoking LMG in its hand. SCP-8700-A: Unhand him you foul beast! CAS-1 Salvatore: Ig!? Fiore, what's happening!? Ignatius, respond! What's happening!? Supervisor Fiore covers his head with his arms and cries out as SCP-8700-A charges the SCP-8700-2 entity, leaping over debris and tackling the entity away from Fiore. The SCP-8700-2 entity roars and fires a blast of molten lava into SCP-8700-A's torso and head, splashing the surrounding room and Fiore, who is protected by his armor. SCP-8700-A proceeds to bludgeon the entity to death before diving over Fiore as it detonates. CAS-1 Salvatore: Ig! Ig, answer me! Please respond, please! Supervisor Fiore: I'm burning! Fuck! Oh god, it’s on me! It's hot! CAS-1 Salvatore: Ig! Are you injured!? Ig! SCP-8700-A stands, examines Supervisor Fiore before grabbing him by the shoulder and shaking him before briefly embracing him. SCP-8700-A: You are whole. You are safe. It did not penetrate the armor. Supervisor Fiore: I am? It didn't get me? SCP-8700-A shakes its head and brusquely pulls Fiore to his feet, tugging him towards the locker housing SCP-8700-A1. Supervisor Fiore: How… You… When did you… SCP-8700-A looks from the LMG to Fiore. SCP-8700-A: I have observed your men at arms for near on 80 years. I was unsure of the sorcery powering the weapon, but was able to imitate the necessary actions to summon forth its power. Supervisor Fiore stares at SCP-8700-A Supervisor Fiore: What the fuck… CAS-1 Salvatore: It didn't get you? What does that mean!? God dammit Fiore, respond! Supervisor Fiore: I— I think I'm alright. 8700-A saved me. I was scared, it was spraying lava around and I thought it got me. CAS-1 Salvatore: Jesus Christ, Ig, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Supervisor Fiore: [Crying] Me too. Fuck, me too. Supervisor Fiore wipes his eyes and scans his identification in the receptacle, opening the locker. SCP-8700-A immediately retrieves its weapon, an ornate steel longsword engraved with draconic imagery. CAS-1 Salvatore: You're nearly there. It's almost over. Just one more push and it’s over, alright? I'm proud of you, Ig. We all are. Faint cheering and words of encouragement can be heard through the radio. CAS-1 Salvatore: You see, Ig? We all believe in you. SCP-8700-A: They are right to do so. You must believe in yourself, Ignatius. Supervisor Fiore smiles sadly and picks up his weapons, clearing his throat and breathing deeply. Supervisor Fiore: Thanks guys. Really. <Fiore takes a deep breath.> Fuck it. Let's do this. If I don't make it out of this, look after my cat for me, Elena. Her name is Foo-Foo-Cuddly-Poops. SCP-8700-A: [Tilting its head] That is a foolish name. CAS-1 Salvatore: You're getting through this, Ig. When you come through the other side, you and I will go and pour some drinks for Sean, Roy… And Dom. SCP-8700-A places its hand on Supervisor Fiore's shoulder. SCP-8700-A: We approach the court of the dragon. We will destroy it, and avenge our brothers and sisters. When we descend to the battlefield, and you will see how strong you are. Supervisor Fiore nods, shouldering the grenade launcher, breathing deeply for a moment. SCP-8700-A nods back to him, and Fiore leads the way towards the tertiary defence zone. [END LOG] The remaining MTF forces in the tertiary defence zone have retreated to the final line, a defensive structure protecting the entry to SCP-8700's containment chamber should all else fail. With both the eastern and western flanks fallen and SCP-8700-2 instances streaming towards the structure, Commander Bratt has ordered that they hold ground until help can arrive from nearby sites. The air is full of flame, Ichneumon class weapons fire and thrown projectiles as the SCP-8700-2 instances swarm the bunker. They are terminated in large numbers, causing significant structural damage, but do not slow their assault. The fifteen MTF agents within are visibly exhausted, wounded and running low on supplies, but continue to fight. The SCP-8700-2 instances have surrounded the Final Line and are gnawing and clawing in an attempt to break in, even as the defences and defenders terminate them one after another. SCP-8700-2 Alpha hangs back, towering over the battle as it drags itself across the defence zone and fires unrelenting streams of pressurised lava at the structure. Two MTF agents are hit by Ichneumon lancer fire, vaporising them from the hip and torso up, respectively. Cmdr. Bratt: We all know when we take this job that we could lose our lives any day. Whether we're shot, stabbed, eaten or torn to shreds by some nightmare beyond comprehension, we know it’s coming. We tell ourselves not today. Not today. Later. Well, later has come today, hammers! Sgt. Lee completes arming an improvised explosive device within the bunker. He locks eyes with Cmdr. Bratt and nods before taking up arms and resuming the assault. Another MTF member is killed as an SCP-8700-2 instance detonates upon its death, flooding their section with lava. Cmdr. Bratt: All we can do now is fight! Fight for time, for each other, for the world or out of sheer stubbornness! I don't care what your reasons are, all I care about is that you fight! Fight to the last breath! Take as many of them with us as you can! The remnants of the MTF forces terminate multiple SCP-8700-2 instances in rapid succession, but are rapidly becoming overrun. An additional MTF unit is lost as multiple SCP-8700-2 instances are able to fire weapons into the bunker. Cmdr. Bratt: Area 14 is full of the names of the fallen! All earned their place on the avenue of honour! We are soon to join them! How will you earn your plaque? How will you be remembered? How will you die? I will die fighting! To the death! The SCP-8700-2 numbers have been reduced drastically in the assault of the Final Line. Numerous instances make suicidal charges in attempt to overwhelm the defenders, succeeding in the killing of three more MTF combatants and significantly weakening the defences. SCP-8700-2 Alpha rushes towards the bunker, roaring and breathing fire as it approaches. Cmdr. Bratt: TO THE DEATH! Sgt. Jackson: DEATH! Lt. Ward: DEATH! Cpt. Blacha: DEATH! Sgt. Lee: DEATH! Sgt. Karpyshyn: DEATH! Lt. Gaider: DEATH! Lt. Kamiya: DEATH! SCP-8700-2 Alpha: DEATH! SCP-8700-2 Alpha rears up on its hind legs and slams its forelimbs against the roof's structure, shattering it and flooding the area with fire. Secondary SCP-8700-2 instances follow it into the breach, engaging the survivors of the assault as the primary instance seizes Cmdr. Bratt in its talons, raising her up towards its face. She stabs at it with her combat knife before the dead man's switch falls from her hand. SCP-8700-2 Alpha lunges to bite the commander, but is interrupted by the detonation of Sgt. Lee's device. The explosion is enormous, terminating the majority of the remaining SCP-8700-2 instances and severely damaging the remaining fortifications. [END LOG] Supervisor Fiore and SCP-8700-A stand in the elevator, descending towards the tertiary defence the zone. The sounds of the battle have ceased after an extremely loud explosion, and the temperature steadily rises. Supervisor Fiore has equipped a full set of Class-A heat resistant armor and a rebreather, holding his Ichneumon lancer at the ready. SCP-8700-A stands between supervisor Fiore and the elevator's exit, holding SCP-8700-A1 in one hand and a Foundation issue crowd control shield strapped to the other. It wears a belt of 40mm grenade magazines around its waist. The camera feeds can be seen experiencing numerous visual glitches resembling reptilian eyes, scales and teeth, along with growling sounds. The elevator comes to a stop with a gentle jolt. The doors remain closed, but SCP-8700-2 instances can be heard on the other side. Supervisor Fiore bounces on his toes, breathing rapidly. Supervisor Fiore: I can do this. I can do this. SCP-8700-A: My shield will not hold long. We must reach cover fast. CAS-1 Salvatore: Give the 'nade launcher to 8700-A when its shield is done, Ig. You'll need all the help you can get moving through the kill zone. Supervisor Fiore: Right. Then we go as planned? I keep them down, you move up? SCP-8700-A: Yes. Are you ready to see your worth? Supervisor Fiore nods and scans his identification card in the elevator's receptacle before pressing a button. The heavy doors slide open into the defence zone's entry corridor, revealing the mangled remains of the structure, cratered by artillery fire and SCP-8700-2 detonations. Smoke fills the air, and water covers the top few centimetres of the ground. SCP-8700-A crouches and starts to advance down the corridor, while supervisor Fiore keeps close behind. SCP-8700-A: There is little cover in the area ahead. We shall need to use the rubble. Supervisor Fiore: Ready. The pair rapidly move into the kill zone, a long and narrow corridor leading straight towards the tertiary defence zone's raised fortifications. The fortifications are badly damaged and lightly manned by the remaining SCP-8700-2 instances while SCP-8700-2 Alpha attempts to melt through the blast doors into SCP-8700's primary containment chamber. Piles of rubble litter the kill zone and the bodies of fallen MTF members lay strewn about as they fell. A commotion stirs among the SCP-8700-2 instances as they spot supervisor Fiore and SCP-8700-A's approach and they open fire on them with Ichneumon class weaponry. The blasts of energy shriek through the air before slamming into SCP-8700-A's shield and surrounding space repeatedly, rapidly melting through it as the pair take cover behind a pile of rubble. SCP-8700-A discards the ruined shield and nods to supervisor Fiore. SCP-8700-A: Fill the sky with your fire. Supervisor Fiore: Get ready to run! CAS-1 Salvatore: Head down and hustle, move fast. Supervisor Fiore passes the grenade launcher to SCP-8700-A and readies his Ichneumon lancer. He nods to SCP-8700-A and begins to blind fire over the rubble towards the SCP-8700-2 instances. SCP-8700-A waits a moment before vaulting over the rubble and charging down the kill zone, firing the grenade launcher repeatedly. Multiple SCP-8700-2 instances charge at SCP-8700-A, but are rapidly cut down and terminated as it passes. Supervisor Fiore cries out as he fires at the SCP-8700-2 targets, moving closer as they are pushed back by the barrage of grenades. SCP-8700-A: Tell me how my steel tastes, little worms! CAS-1 Salvatore: Don't get too mad, stay cautious! Supervisor Fiore: I know, I know! It just helps! SCP-8700-2 Alpha turns away from the blast doors and looks down the kill zone. It has further mutated, now measuring approximately 18 metres in length, with structures resembling human spinal columns bristling with long horns interwoven with its scales and dorsal spines. Nearly half of its face has been traumatically removed by the detonation of Sgt. Lee's device, and her knife can be seen embedded beneath its now empty eye socket. Its remaining eye is a luminescent golden colour, and molten lava drips from it's jaws. SCP-8700-2 Alpha: There you are, worm. I had thought you too feeble to reach me, but I see you have chosen to die at my feet instead. Just like your pathetic sister. You cannot triumph against me any more than she could, wretch. SCP-8700-A falters in its charge as SCP-8700-2 Alpha speaks, before screaming in rage and firing a volley of grenades towards it, reloading on the move. The rounds impact the entity, but only appear to deal superficial damage. The entity laughs, and the secondary instances resume firing and charging at SCP-8700-A. SCP-8700-A: How dare you speak of her! I will rip your entrails from your bloody corpse! Supervisor Fiore: RUN! Don't listen to it, just run! CAS-1 Salvatore: Are they fucking talking!? Supervisor Fiore: It’s trying to distract him, get in his head! Supervisor Fiore continues to slowly move up and fire upon the SCP-8700-2 instances, successfully terminating one. SCP-8700-A begins to gather speed again, but is hit in the shoulder by the blast of an Ichneumon lancer and staggers, falling against a pile of rubble and hacking at the closer SCP-8700-2 instances with its sword. SCP-8700-A: [Weakly] Come at me then. Supervisor Fiore: MACARIUS! CAS-1 Salvatore: Cover him! Keep them down! Keep them down! Keep them down! SCP-8700-2 Alpha: [Laughing] So very weak. How can you even hope to reach me? You cannot even reach the end of this room. Nor could you to aid your sister. What was she called, I wonder? Ah yes, Eve, That was it. Do you think she even knew the sound of her own name, after I ensnared her heart and broke her mind? Supervisor Fiore lays down suppressive fire, switching between targets rapidly. SCP-8700-A continues to fend off the SCP-8700-2 instances, dismembering and beheading them in rapid succession while roaring in fury. SCP-8700-A: Do not speak her name! By my blade, you will not speak her name! Supervisor Fiore: It's full of shit, Macarius! It's still the same stupid piece of shit you've been tearing apart for the past five hundred years! you can do this! Ignore it and shoot the little ones on the wall! SCP-8700-2 Alpha: Stupid? Oh no no no, little worm. Stupid is serving those who would melt you down for scrap given the opportunity. Stupid, is happily putting on a leash and following the commands of your jailers, even knowing they have spilled just as much innocent blood as I. Ignoring them openly learning to kill you, right in your very own home. Supervisor Fiore lays down more suppressive fire. SCP-8700-A does also and begins to advance once more, having terminated the SCP-8700-2 instances in the kill zone, but is slower in its movements. The combined barrage terminates a further three SCP-8700-2 instances. SCP-8700-2 Alpha: Or you, Ignatius. Just how do you hope to stand in my way? How do you plan to save yourself from the fire, when even your champion cannot? Even your precious Foundation, those who have hunted down and slaughtered countless lives before me, have been blind to their own weakness. Did you really think me some mindless beast, smashing my might against your shores so aimlessly? Oh no, I am FAR more than that. Your lives are so short. So meaningless. How easily you forget the lessons of the past when you believe time is on your side. SCP-8700-A advances again, firing grenades as it moves. Supervisor Fiore advances slowly, well behind SCP-8700-A, and fires his lancer constantly. All surviving SCP-8700-2 instances are now remaining behind cover in the tertiary defence zone's fortifications. SCP-8700-A: I shall avenge the fate of those you have slain upon you before the day is out, monster! You cannot face us both! I shall have your blood! CAS-1 Salvatore: Ignore it, Ig, it's stalling, it knows you're a threat. SCP-8700-2 Alpha: So easily fooled. In a mere blink of an eye, you grow careless; believe you know the extent of what I am capable of. Just like Macarius, and his beloved Eve, stealing into my lair in the night, thinking she could make a difference. Daring to her filthy hands on MY TREASURE!? Imagine, a flea biting a god. But she paid oh so dearly for what she wrought, didn't she Macarius? Reduced to an animal, rolling in its own filth. If her feeble aid could not help you best me, what makes you believe this will be any different? SCP-8700-A bolts from cover, firing multiple grenades as it exits the kill zone and bellowing in fury, but is driven back by Ichneumon weapons fire as a group of SCP-8700-2 instances emerge from cover. It is knocked down to the ground by multiple blasts, feebly firing the grenade launcher in their direction before collapsing, scattering them while SCP-8700 Alpha laughs. SCP-8700-A: Curse you! Curse you! Supervisor Fiore: NO! Wait for me! CAS-1 Salvatore: Don't rush in, Ig! Supervisor Fiore rushes down the kill zone and into cover near SCP-8700-A, narrowly avoiding fire from the nine remaining secondary SCP-8700-2 instances. He takes several deep breaths before tossing grenades towards the instances, pushing them back towards the battlements and terminating one. SCP-8700-2 Alpha turns and resumes attempting to melt and claw through the blast doors leading to SCP-8700's primary containment chamber. SCP-8700-2 Alpha: [laughing] How very pathetic. See to it Macarius lays broken. You may have the flea, my children. Do with it as you will. Supervisor Fiore: Get up, Macarius! Get up! CAS-1 Salvatore: Buy it some time, Ig! It needs to recover! Supervisor Fiore: Oh fuck… Can't believe I'm doing this. CAS-1 Salvatore: Doing what? Ig? What are you doing!? Supervisor Fiore vaults out of cover and sprints out of the kill zone, towards the tertiary defence zone's fortifications. The SCP-8700-2 instances turn their attention from the motionless SCP-8700-A to Fiore, chittering excitedly. Supervisor Fiore: Come and get me, motherfuckers! CAS-1 Salvatore: Ig, what the fuck are you doing!? IG! Supervisor Fiore opens fire on the SCP-8700-2 instances as he runs through the area, but does not cause significant damage. They laugh and begin to chase him. Some open fire, but either miss or fail to penetrate Fiore's body armor. Supervisor Fiore: What you said to do! Buying time! Supervisor Fiore pulls the pin on a grenade and drops the belt on the ground in the path of the SCP-8700-2 instances, before diving over SCP-8700-A for cover. The pursuing instances are caught in the blast, detonating violently as all but four are terminated. Supervisor Fiore: Yes! Yes! I got them! Suck my a— The four surviving SCP-8700-2 entities rise unsteadily to their feet, howling and roaring as gouts of flame and molten lava pour from their wounds. They begin to approach Supervisor Fiore and SCP-8700-A, who begins to stir with a groan. Supervisor Fiore: No! Fuck! Supervisor Fiore opens fire on the approaching SCP-8700-2 instances, but is unable to hit them. The lead entity lunges for him, but has its arm caught by SCP-8700-A as it brings itself to its feet. It wearily bisects the entity with its sword, kicking and tossing the entity's remains away and looking up at the remaining instances. SCP-8700-A: Come forth then, cowards. Face one equal to your strength. The blast doors leading to SCP-8700's containment chamber give way as the primary SCP-8700-2 instance rips them from their housings. Artillery and Ichneumon class weaponry are heard firing from within, followed by a roar of flame as the instance attacks the last defenders of SCP-8700. CAS-1 Salvatore: What's happening!? Supervisor Fiore opens fire upon the remaining instances, distracting them as SCP-8700-A charges them. Caught unawares, two instances are terminated as they are beheaded and impaled respectively by SCP-8700-A. Turning to flee, it is shot by Fiore before detonating. Supervisor Fiore: It's in the chamber. CAS-1 Salvatore: Hurry! Supervisor Fiore and SCP-8700-A exchange a nod before hurrying towards the containment chamber, with SCP-8700-A's movement being visibly laboured. It appears battered and charred as it moves. The pair help each other climb the rubble, reaching the top as SCP-8700-2 Alpha enters the containment chamber. As Fiore catches his breath, SCP-8700-A advances towards the containment chamber. SCP-8700-A: Come, Ignatius. I shall gift its heart to you after I have torn it from the wretch's chest. Supervisor Fiore: Stop, 8700-A. It’s getting to you. They're just words. Don't let it use your anger to control you. Please. SCP-8700-A pauses and looks down at the ground for a moment before nodding. SCP-8700-A: Your words are true. Come. We must not delay. SCP-8700-A turns and makes for the containment chamber. Supervisor Fiore: Its fucking massive, Elena. 8700-A's slowed right down by everything we've gone through. It's going to be close. I'm going in. CAS-1 Salvatore: Good luck, Ig. I believe in you. Supervisor Fiore takes a deep breath and shoulders his weapon, then runs after SCP-8700-A into the primary containment chamber. [END LOG] SCP-8700-A and supervisor Fiore run through the ruined blast doors into SCP-8700's primary containment chamber, chasing SCP-8700-2 Alpha. The entity leaves a trail of molten lava behind it, and the containment chamber radiates intense heat. Raging fires and gases emerge from the pit beneath SCP-8700, surrounding the containment pillar and lowered drawbridge. Volcanic activity shakes the structure as SCP-8700-2 Alpha slithers down from the bridge terminal into the flames. SCP-8700 sits embedded within the stone, contained securely beneath chains and cables and housed within a reinforced containment unit, its glow visible through the inspection viewports. Supervisor Fiore: Well, it's like you said. Into the court of the dragon. I can hear its voice. SCP-8700-A: Take heart and fear no darkness. If its words could find purchase in your soul they would have done so already. Supervisor Fiore: If you say so. What are we going to do, what's the plan? CAS-1 Salvatore: You're going to kill a dragon, that's what you're going to do. SCP-8700-A: Remain here and fire upon the wyrm. I am going to put this foul beast to the sword once more. Do not meet its gaze. Supervisor Fiore reaches the drawbridge control panel and activates it with his identification pass. The bridge begins to rise, but its movement is hampered by the heat and volcanic activity, rising slowly. SCP-8700-2 Alpha's head emerges from the flames as it climbs SCP-8700's plinth. It spreads its wings as it emerges, beating them to fan the flames before assaulting SCP-8700's containment unit with its claws and fists, growling all the while. SCP-8700-A: Do not follow me across the bridge. It will incinerate you or worse. Supervisor Fiore: Got it. I'll stay here and cover you. Just be careful. Don't let it goad you. CAS-1 Salvatore: 8700-2 instances are more vulnerable on their bellies, eyes and mouths, Ig. Make your shots count, and stay down behind cover. SCP-8700-A places a fist to its chest and bows to Supervisor Fiore before turning to the bridge and rolling its shoulders, slamming its sword into its breastplate noisily. As it steps onto the nearly raised bridge. SCP-8700-2 raises its head, fixing its remaining eye on SCP-8700-A as it rips the containment unit free and tosses it aside. SCP-8700-A: Hail, Typhon, wretched and accursed! I have come to destroy you, foul worm, as I have done so many times before. Come now, and face your death, for I have little patience left for your poisonous words. SCP-8700-2 Alpha bristles and lets out a deep snarl. SCP-8700-2 Alpha: YOU. There you are after all. Are you here to beg my mercy, before I reclaim my crown? No, it matters not. You will not receive a clean death like your witless sister, or the Fell Hand. No no no, you will SUFFER. You will suffer, beyond fear and pain for centuries for what you have wrought. Come then and die for me! SCP-8700-2 Alpha lets out a guttural roar as a jet of intense flame and molten lava erupt from its throat, engulfing SCP-8700-A as it marches towards the plinth. While slowed, SCP-8700-A is not deterred, advancing with its sword drawn and golden light shining between its plates from the runes within. Supervisor Fiore fires at the entity from behind cover, hitting its head and shoulders. SCP-8700-2 Alpha sneers and bares its teeth. SCP-8700-2 Alpha: And what better way to suffer, than at the unwilling hands of one you care for? SCP-8700-2 Alpha diverts its gave to Supervisor Fiore as SCP-8700-A breaks into a sprint towards the entity. Golden light shines from its eye onto Fiore as it pries the chains and cables from SCP-8700. SCP-8700-2 Alpha: Stand now, peon, and be my creature. Slay this wretch, or yourself should you fail! Supervisor Fiore slowly rises to his feet, staring at SCP-8700-2 Alpha as faint golden light begins to shine in his eyes, mouth growing slack as he raises his weapon. The beast begins to laugh as SCP-8700-A nears the plinth. CAS-1 Salvatore: What are you waiting for, Ig!? Shoot that thing! Show it you're not left handed! Supervisor Fiore: Get fucked, you discount Smaug wannabe! Supervisor Fiore opens fire, aiming for SCP-8700-2 Alpha's exposed underbelly as the reflection of golden light passes over his eyes. The sizzling bolts of energy shriek through the air, colliding with its soft flesh with loud cracks and showers of molten blood as SCP-8700-A leaps into the air towards the entity as it roars in enraged surprise. The sword plunges deep within SCP-8700-2 Alpha's chest, the wound erupting with flame and lava. It flings itself back into the air, shaking SCP-8700-A loose onto the plinth as it rises, circling around the chamber on enormous wings. SCP-8700-A circles SCP-8700, keeping its body between it and SCP-8700-2 Alpha. The creature emits gouts of flame and lava as it flies, screaming and roaring before diving towards SCP-8700, grabbing at it with its hands, but is intercepted by SCP-8700-2 Alpha, who slashes at its hands, severing a digit. The entity roars in fury and crashes into the plinth, snatching SCP-8700-A within its crocodilian jaws and shaking the knight vigorously, still attempting to draw SCP-8700 from its stone even as it lashes its tail and flings debris at Supervisor Fiore, who is still firing at the entity from within cover. The fires within the chamber grow ever more intense as noxious gases swirl in the air. SCP-8700-A manages to drive its sword into SCP-8700-2 Alpha's lower jaw, impaling and then splitting it in two, before falling to the ground beside SCP-8700. SCP-8700-2 Alpha shrieks and tosses its head, reeling back into the flames as SCP-8700-A gets back to its feet, brandishing its sword. SCP-8700-2 Alpha: You tire, Macarius! Crippled by the very hand of those you would call ally. The very tool your ward clutches in its hands was built only to destroy you, and still you throw yourself into the fire for them. Surely, you must know that what you have done in this place has forever tainted your very soul. The paradise your church dreams of shall forever elude you. As foolhardy and murderous you were in life, thankful you must be to know that your sister never witnessed you become the pathetic creature I see before me now. Supervisor Fiore: It's scared of you, Macarius! All it has are words! Don't listen to its lies! SCP-8700-A snarls and brandishes its sword. SCP-8700-A: Keep your tongue behind your teeth, craven. You will get what you deserve. SCP-8700-2 Alpha: [laughing] Oh will I indeed? Supervisor Fiore stands and opens fire at SCP-8700-2 Alpha's soft underside, opening a wound and causing the creature to recoil into the pit below. Fiore and SCP-8700-A peer into the flames, looking for the entity as it leaps for the supervisor, snatching him into its claws before taking to the air once more. SCP-8700-A cries out in alarm as Fiore screams and struggles in the creature's grip, his armor beginning to smoulder and melt. SCP-8700-2 Alpha: Lies, was it!? It matters not what you say, he knows the weakness that lies within his craven heart! Let me show you, before I feast on your bones! CAS-1 Salvatore: Ig!? Ig, talk to me! What's happen— SCP-8700-A: Release him! SCP-8700-2 Alpha lands heavily on the plinth, breathing gouts of flame at SCP-8700-A and holding supervisor Fiore in one hand. His armor and radio continue to melt and smoulder as he struggles and screams in pain, dropping his weapon in the process. SCP-8700-A roars and rushes forward, attempting to strike the creature with its sword, but pulls back at the last moment as SCP-8700-2 Alpha moves Fiore into the path of the strike and slashes at the knight with its talons. SCP-8700-A is knocked to the ground, dropping SCP-8700-A1 on the drawbridge. SCP-8700-2 Alpha: There is nothing left for you now, but your death! As SCP-8700-A attempts to rise, SCP-8700-2 Alpha tosses supervisor Fiore aside and pounces on the knight, pinning it down with one hand and attempting to dig the talons of its free hand between the plates of its helm. SCP-8700-A struggles against the creature, growling and grunting with exertion. Fiore slides along the drawbridge and comes to a stop against its railing, screaming in pain. SCP-8700-2 Alpha: You are nothing, Macarius Son of Gwynhoiarn. You will die like nothing; none shall remember your name. You have failed. Supervisor Fiore stops screaming and begins to pat himself down. He cries out in pain as he discovers severe burns to his arms, torso and thighs, along with numerous compound fractures in his right arm. SCP-8700-2 Alpha breathes huge gouts of flame point blank at SCP-8700-A and continues frenziedly attempting to rip it apart. SCP-8700-A attempts to resist, punching kicking and tearing at the larger entity's flesh, but is unable to dissuade it from its attack. Supervisor Fiore crawls down the drawbridge at speed, muttering something to himself repeatedly. As he approaches the entities he recovers SCP-8700-A1, grabbing it in his hand and using it to stand to his feet. He takes a deep breath and takes a few steps before gripping the sword more tightly. Supervisor Fiore: I am left handed. Supervisor Fiore breaks into an unsteady sprint towards SCP-8700-2 Alpha, which is now staring intently at SCP-8700-A as its joints groan and creak under the pressure of the creature's rending claws. Its split lower jaw hangs agape with relish as SCP-8700-A roars in fury and pain. SCP-8700-A feebly attempts to punch and tear at SCP-8700-2 Alpha's face, gripping it by the bottom jaw and twisting it with a loud cracking sound. Supervisor Fiore gasps as he flings himself and SCP-8700-A1 at SCP-8700-2 Alpha's blind side, slicing its wrinkled throat open with the sword's momentum and landing heavily beside SCP-8700 with a pained cry. SCP-8700-2 Alpha's eye widens in pain and shock as torrents of lava burst from the wound and its throat onto the prone SCP-8700-A, unsteady now and scrabbling to find purchase on the plinth. Seizing the opportunity, SCP-8700-A wrenches hard on the creature's ruined lower jaw with a loud yell, pushing with its feet to heave the entity's enormous head into SCP-8700's exposed blade. The sword bites deep into the beast's head, bisecting it vertically as its single golden eye widens in shock before rolling upwards. SCP-8700-A shoves the massive entity with its feet, sending the body sliding off the plinth into the flames below, before crawling to supervisor Fiore and covering his unconscious body with its own, shielding him from the violent detonation of the SCP-8700-2 Alpha's body. [END LOG] SCP-8700-A exits the primary containment chamber, carrying supervisor Fiore in its arms. It moves unsteadily, picking its way through the rubble carefully, but with haste. It is charred and has deep scratches on its surface from SCP-8700-2 Alpha's assault, moving with a limp despite a lack of organic material that could be damaged in such a way. It makes its way through the site, avoiding fires and potentially dangerous reptiles within, taking the same path it and supervisor Fiore took to reach the primary containment chamber. Upon reaching the transit bay emergency shelter, SCP-8700-A slumps against the door, pounding it with its fist. The door slowly slides open as CAS-1 Salvatore, Dr. Greddock and custodian Lunerti exit the shelter to assist the entity in moving Fiore to the field hospital, where he is prepared for surgery. SCP-8700-A reaches out its hand to Supervisor Fiore before collapsing on the ground, where it remains motionless. Following these events surviving staff hastily treated supervisor Ignatius Fiore's wounds and were able to stabilise his condition, leaving him comatose. Foundation reinforcements arrived at Site-536 at 1:56PM of the same day and were able to re-secure the site, returning SCP-8700-A to its cell, recover SCP-8700-A1 and terminate four remaining SCP-8700-2 instances in and around the site. SCP-8700-A was observed to regain its mobility and ability to communicate 17 hours after its re-containment. A temporary containment unit was constructed over SCP-8700 and reconstruction of the site began under heavy guard from MTF-Nu-7 ("Hammer Down") operatives. As reconstruction efforts were in progress, a thorough investigation into the incident was launched. Testimonies from surviving site staff, surveillance footage and forensic investigation into the activities of the late Director George Eddings aided in the investigation's relatively fast conclusion, helping to shape revisions to SCP-8700's containment procedures. Of particular note were journals belonging to the late Director detailing numerous hallucinations and dreams revolving around SCP-8700-1, along with a long history of embezzlement of Foundation funds and assets. Director Eddings was subsequently posthumously demoted and his honours scrubbed from Foundation records. All Foundation staff lost in the incident were buried with full honours, with awards for bravery, resourcefulness and heroism awarded posthumously where applicable. Commander Reul Bratt and her forces in particular were honored, having terminated over 400 SCP-8700-2 instances during the battle. Containment Acquisition Specialist Elena Salvatore accepted the awards on behalf of the fallen, along with hers and Containment Supervisor Ignatius Fiore's own medals in a private ceremony. SCP-8700-A was also provided with a medal for its actions. Following investigation into supervisor Fiore's history and actions during the incident, it was discovered that he had scored in the top 1.9% of those tested in anti-coercion tests. It is the current belief that this extreme resistance to anomalous coercion allowed him to resist the SCP-8700-2 instance's mind effecting abilities, and was noted. Reconstruction and significant reinforcement of Site-536 was completed on the 27/10/2024, with multiple amendments to SCP-8700's containment procedures having been instituted. Site-536's AIC unit was moved to a remote installation at an undisclosed Foundation site, performing its functions remotely. Similarly, it was determined that all future Directors of Site-536 would perform their duties remotely, from an area outside of SCP-8700's area of effect and at a minimum distance of 250km from the site itself. On-site defences and fortifications were drastically overhauled, with the future use of restricted anomalous weaponry being considered. Stricter staff requirements were also instituted in the sites recruiting process. After a long recovery, supervisor Ignatius Fiore was able to resume his duties. SCP-8700-A was reportedly elated. Addendum 5: The following file is restricted to Level 4 and above personnel only. PROCEED? CLOSE FILE Internal Affairs Evidence File: EDDINGS, GEORGE- documentation 001: The material enclosed is a series of excerpts from the private journal of the former Director of Site-536, Dr. George Eddings collected as evidence following the investigation onto Incident: Site 536-EE-73. Only relevant passages have been recorded. -The site should be fine. I'm looking forward to my posting being changed. The documentation mentions hallucinations within SCP-8700's area of effect, but no one tells you what they actually feel like. It's frightening in a way that other sites simply are not. Any time I see a mirror or reflection I can see beady golden eyes staring at me from the shadows. The whispering has grown louder with each day. At least I'll be leaving this place wealthier than I entered it. They owe me that much at least. I can always hear that fucking breathing and rasping. I saw a documentary when I was a young man about komodo dragons in Indonesia. When they fight their scales rub on each other and it makes this terrible rasping noise. I can hear that noise at all hours of the day. It's very much like tinnitus. The readings show SCP-8700-1 is becoming more active, so I suppose that’s just my luck. On site for an Excalibur event. They say it’s worse during those, and I believe it. All I can smell is rotting meat. Going to get some smelling salts tomorrow. It's in my dreams now. I keep my journal close by to note down anything important at night and this feels like it qualifies. The dreams are very vivid, and I'm usually at work in them, only there is no roof. Just this enormous grey dragon looming over me in the sky. It's disgusting and terrifying. It reeks. I can tell it’s just watching me the entire time. This was normal for the past few days, but tonight it spoke to me. It called me greedy and vainglorious, then it screamed in my wife’s voice and everything caught fire. Not a great night. What few hours of sleep I get are completely ruined now. I'm exhausted from feeling eyes and breath on me all day. I'm losing time and not knowing what’s happened. I'm popping xanax more to cope, but I can always feel it breathing down my neck. It’s far too hot to sleep, and all I can think about is the upcoming event. How bad will it be on the day? I don't feel right. I don't feel like myself anymore. I snapped at Gloria on the phone today and she said she didn't know me anymore. I was never cruel before was I? It was in my dream again. I was running through an inferno, everyone was burning but me. A dragon the size of a mountain landed before me. It held more money and gold in its hand than I've ever seen before, but all I could think about was its disgusting stink and the slime falling from its body. It was an impossible shape, like a long, fat crocodile with glowing golden eyes. It dragged itself towards me and spoke. Thousands of corpses fell from its mouth when it did. I don't remember what it said, but I don't think this is just a hallucination. I'm going to the infirmary. Note: The final entry is written in different handwriting, on the same page. Fight against me if you will, you bloody foundation. This man is mine now, as soon will be all men. Know that I have grown weary of this prison, and shall not remain here any longer. Know that should my escape be thwarted on the morrow, I shall no longer give any quarter. I will poison your minds and hearts. The rivers will run red with blood, and not even your pathetic contingencies will be able to save you. The time of men is over, and I shall take my rightful place once more. I shall shatter your foundation as I shattered the world before. Know that I come for you, [REDACTED], and you shall never be safe. For my imprisonment, you will suffer endlessly. I shall chain you to a great stone, and you will watch as my children ravage your world. I have until the dying of the world to be free. You must succeed in battle against me until the end of days to keep my jaws from your throat. I need only succeed but once, and you are so much LESS than you were before. Pray to your gods that tomorrow is that one time, for my wrath will be ever more terrible with each passing year I am trapped in this freezing prison. Footnotes 1. Anomalous weaponry reverse engineered from previous GOI weaponisation of SCP-8700's effects. 2. For a complete record of materials tested on SCP-8700, see Document:8700-T-019/H. 3. Typically greater than ten weeks. 4. Having previously been contained by the now defunct GOI-0536 who had significantly modernised the Site. 5. Believed to be SCP-8700-1. 6. "For to sup from the blood of a dragon-touched was a curse of the highest order… for not only had you touched evil, but had been corrupted entirely and irredeemably by it." -The Fell Hand and the Wyrm, 1587. 7. Including several unusually large armor pieces and weapons more than double the size of standard equipment. 8. Designed to incapacitate SCP-8700-A via disruption of its thaumaturgic runes. 9. As mentioned in Document 8700/ R&D-H: History of Site-536. 10. Expanding SCP-8700's area of effect from a 419m radius to its now current 444m radius. 11. Given the similarities between a portion of these runes and those used in Daevite thaumaturgy, it is unlikely the person used in this ritual would survive the process and was likely used as a sacrifice to power the ritual. 12. A local politician with ties to extremist groups, known for their "Cult of personality." 13. Henceforth termed SCP-8700-2 Alpha. 14. A forcible entry tool utilised by fire fighters. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8700" by Dr Balthazaar, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8700. 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. Certain dialogue makes brief transformative reference to the script of The Princess Bride (1987, film). Filename: Eruption Name: Eruzione Etna 31-05-2019 (48036773048).jpg Author: andrea License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source: Wikimedia Commons Filename: Firehouse Name: Pledges-fire.jpg Author: Piers Garnham License: CC BY-SA 4.0 Source: Wikimedia Commons Filename: knight alive Name: Dapperheidgrotepier.jpg Author: Johannes Hinderikus Egenberger License: Public Domain Source: Wikimedia Commons Filename: Knight Name: Suit of Armor Author: John Moore License: CC BY-SA 2.0 Source: flickr Filename: Sister Name: Steinlen T.A. - Charcoal - Portrait de Colette, fille de l'artiste - 11.2x14.2cm.jpg Author: J'aimelart License: CC BY-SA 4.0 Source: Wikimedia Commons Filename: Tunnel Name: Fort-roppe-galerie-ss-roc.jpg Author: Thomas Bresson License: CC BY 3.0 Source: Wikimedia Commons |
SCP-8701 | safe | This, my blood, it is the Hanged King’s. close Info X SCP-8000 Submission: Jackie And Wilson Author: Sushimi Image: Put any licensing information for images here Hi, I wrote this for the SCP-8000 contest. It’s a play. I sincerely hope you enjoy it. Notes on the production For the technical team attempting to stage Jackie And Wilson, consider a minimalistic set to convey the multiple locations and the arcane nature of the setting. I have seen productions attempt to oversell it—furniture in the walls and ceiling, fancy runework, etc.—and they unilaterally fail to understand the point. I hope, dear reader, you do not make that same misjudgement. For the lighting, the task will be herculean. I ask you give the first scene a red colour-scheme, the second a yellow colour-scheme, and the third scene a total white washout. Fortunately, you will not be involved with the lighting of scene four. I ask you to decide yourself how long the breaks between each scene is. Breaks might be days, months, or no time at all. Such is the nature of time down here. To the actors, do better than me. Be what I couldn’t. Alright, I’ll let you get onto the play now. This, my blood, it is the Hanged King’s. Setting Various, Alagadda Time A crucial little while Characters JACKIE - Older, a notable performer in the city. WILSON - Younger, a newcomer and a nobody. I Red (A booth in a quiet corner at a party. Alagadda. The hum and noise rings at the periphery, but it’s marginally quieter here. Lights come up on JACKIE, well dressed and with a gravity around her. Everything about her is measured. She lights a cigarette, glancing around. She wears a particularly ornate theatrical mask, it’s not hers. WILSON enters, a disturbance. His clothes are disorderly, and his mask is cracked. He has a bag around his shoulder. For a moment, JACKIE doesn’t notice him.) WILSON: Hey, can I…? JACKIE: Don’t let me stop you. WILSON: Alright, thanks. (He sits down. Long silence.) What do you dream about? JACKIE: That’s a new one, aren’t you going to ask my name first? WILSON: I’m serious, I’m serious. (Beat.) Your name wouldn’t hurt either. JACKIE: Jacqueline…Jackie. I work a few streets up, in the Mirth hall. Your turn. WILSON: Wilson. The Mirth, damn! Why do you smoke? I mean, there’s worse things you could be doing here, and no one’d mind. JACKIE: You’d get it if you smoked. Liquid death. It’s like a fire is breathed into you…it’s a bit like love, in a twisted kind of way. It’s victory- WILSON: I thought you said it was death. JACKIE: It can be both. I couldn't care less about whatever they’re smoking out there. WILSON: Yeah. Yeah. So, wait, you’re an actor? JACKIE: Ensemble. WILSON: Well, damn, I’m in the presence of a celebrity! Heh. JACKIE: And what do you do? No one comes here not to do something. WILSON: I write. Or, I’m- uh, starting to write. I’ve got a manuscript I’ve drafted and… (He hastily retrieves a stapled paper manuscript from his bag, and sets it on the table.) JACKIE: Plays or novels. WILSON: Huh? JACKIE: Which? WILSON: Plays. JACKIE: Good. Are you new to the Red Court? WILSON: …Yeah. JACKIE: Me too, relatively speaking. But it pays at the Mirth, puts you in front of a crowd, as it were. WILSON: Christ, the things I’d do. I’m prepared to give a lot. JACKIE: I mean, clearly. Your…your mask? WILSON: Oh, right. Yeah, I guess so. JACKIE How does that even happen? Forgive me if I'm overstepping. WILSON: I got kicked out of a few places, gave a few notes unsolicited. Plugged the play to the wrong executive, you know how it is. JACKIE: I'm not totally sure I do but sure. I suppose you asked a few girls what their "big dreams" are too. WILSON: No, absolutely not! (Beat.) This is me kinda' out on a limb, actually. JACKIE: Really? What do you do with the rest of your time, then? WILSON: Um…oh! I go out on these long walks, let the fog and the noise kind of subsume me, and just drift off. Looking for answers, I guess. Looking for myself. I have terribly vivid dreams, and I’ll just talk to myself. The passersby must think I'm a mad man. It's how I let it all out, I guess. (He begins to trail off.) Something about the feeling of the mask, and these clothes, and the way the city contorts in on itself— and the colors, and the… (JACKIE leans in.) JACKIE, snapping him out of it: Are you who you say you are? WILSON: Does it matter? (She smiles.) JACKIE: I think this is what I dream about, Wilson. Just this, forever. To be…somewhere else. Even these grimy old couches in this grimy old manor. I dream about being not of this world. WILSON: I was gonna say the same thing. JACKIE, laughing: No you were not. WILSON: I absolutely was! (She takes the manuscript - his play - off the table, and turns to leave.) WILSON: So- wow, you’ll read it? JACKIE: I’m not a real celebrity, Will. I get by as a B-lister, you’ll know where to find me. (She goes to exit.) WILSON: I wasn’t going to say that. (JACKIE stops and turns to him.) Your dream? It’s probably better than mine, so I wanted to have said it but, uh, I didn’t- I wasn’t going to. When I dream, closing my eyes and fading away, I dream of being free. Free to start a fire, free to love and let love. Free to create, which is all I do these days. Where we aren’t slaves to the world, the world is subordinate to us. Or better yet, the world is a big white blob and we color it by just being. So, that’s what I dream. It never woulda’ left my conscience otherwise. (Long silence, looking at one another. JACKIE turns away again to exit. Lights go down, actors prepare for Scene 2.) II Yellow (Jackie’s apartment. It’s well furnished and organized, maybe too much so. Like no one lives there. There’s a couch in the center of the room, a table in front of it, shelves of books, a desk at L, and a cozy atmosphere. The desk has a phonograph on it, and the bookshelf has a section of records. WILSON’s play is strewn on the desk. JACKIE is sitting on the couch, noticeably more relaxed than in scene 1. Her mask is less extravagant, it’s now elegant and minimalistic. Her nails are painted black. There’s a knock at the door, and she opens it to greet WILSON. The cracks in his mask have been filled in with an off-color caulk. He has freshened up somewhat externally, but there are bags under his eyes. He’s beaming, and moves with an excited air) JACKIE: Hello again! Come on in, come in. Take a seat. WILSON: Hi! Uh- Alright, right. (He sits on the couch, she sits next to him) JACKIE: So, how are you, welcome. WILSON: Oh, thank you for having me on such short notice, I’m…I’m great, actually. Or better than I was. JACKIE: That’s good to hear, that’s good. Is that why you’re here? WILSON: Heh, yeah. I’m not particularly slick, then. JACKIE: Not really, no. WILSON: OK, Ok, I…Ok, um, I…I GOT BOOKED! JACKIE, genuinely happy: Will, that’s great! Where? WILSON: In the reds, one of the outer circuit theatres, I forget the name. But they’re gonna’ shop it. JACKIE: Good work— Wait, I’ll go get drinks. Let’s celebrate, shall we? WILSON: Uh…Ah, go on then. We’re stars, you and I! Shit! (JACKIE retrieves a decanter of whisky and two tumblers, setting them on the table and sitting back down. She pours them out) WILSON, lifting his glass: Here’s to art, and our success! JACKIE: And to all that we give for them. (They toast.) WILSON: GOD! I could run a marathon, Jack, or go to the Virtue Hall, or, uh, I don’t know. Hey, wait, can I try something? JACKIE: OK, shoot. WILSON: Can you give me, um…give me your best “upset look.” (JACKIE does so. It’s pretty good. WILSON examines from a few angles.) WILSON: Alright, cool. Now, give me, like, “hurt and shocked.” (She does so, he inspects) OK, could you make it a bit more subtle? (She does) Alright, good. Awesome. You’re giving me lots of ideas. JACKIE, playing along: What was that all for? Like, which– (He looks to deflect, and notices the phonograph) WILSON: Ooh, let me put some music on. (He gets up. Beat.) Where are the records? JACKIE: Over…there. On the shelf. (He starts rifling through them, mumbling) WILSON: Um, huh. Is this all classical? JACKIE: There should be jazz? Keep looking, I’d say. WILSON: Oh, yeah, nice. (He takes a record and walks to the desk, removing it from its casing. He notices his play on the desk) So what’s been happening with you? JACKIE: It’s been good. The show got an extension, so I’m still in business. My face stays in the paper, as it were. (Beat.) WILSON: Oh yeah that’s, that’s good. OK, there. (The record starts playing smooth jazz. WILSON starts humming along, snapping in time and dancing over to the couch) Come on, up ‘ya get. JACKIE, laughing: No. No way. WILSON: COME ON! (He pulls her up off the couch despite her protests. They start apart, as JACKIE begins to feel the music. She dances better than him. Eventually, they pull into one another and slow dance. There’s a burst of excitement, he spins her, she spins him, and they turn the room in their jilted dance. Finally they break out, laughing, and landing back on the couch) JACKIE: Christ, Will, no more of that, we’ll break something. WILSON: Look at some of this stuff. Who’ll miss it! Sorry, that’s…that comes off rude, I don’t mean it that way. I’m easily set off these days. But all these books, who’s read ‘em? Who has the time? JACKIE: They’re plays. Classic plays. WILSON: Right, so old plays, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. If I had a button in front of me that deleted every old play (he looks over at her)…well, I’d hesitate. JACKIE: That’s reductive, I think. Fashion keeps changing, but our nature doesn’t. We always come back here. (Long silence.) When I picture a world ideal, Wilson, do you know what I see? It’s a world where the sun rises and everything is equal, and your breath and mine get in-sync, and our veins mix in and we can all sink into one another. One heart, one nature. (She takes his hand) Like waves on the beach, folding back from whence they came. Like the tiger eats the gazelle, but it isn’t truly lost. Like poetry. I wish the world was poetry… WILSON: Huh. I think I see a world that’s loud. A huge ball of static, the harsh wind of this mountain we’re climbing. Maybe the world would just be a giant mountain range, it keeps getting bigger forever, ya’ know? (They get closer) And in this world of mountains I’m making, I imagine everyone, even the birds, have to climb fair and square. It’s good because, once you scale your mountain, the winds against you in the pit of the night, and the next comes into view…you’d see the sunrise on the horizon behind it. JACKIE: You really know how to trail off. WILSON: Heh. It’s as easy as lying. (He reaches for the decanter) JACKIE: Hey, slow it down. WILSON: Yeah. Yeah, sorry. There’s just— There’s a lot of edge I’m tryna’ take off. (Long silence.) JACKIE: So…your play, how much are they changing? WILSON: What? JACKIE: Well, it’s hardly going to stay the same. It’s too open for the Mirth, and it’s too big for anything else on the red circuit- WILSON: Too open? JACKIE: Too, too non-traditional. Too experimental. WILSON, pushing her off of him: Jesus, too artsy? It’s too artsy for the theatre?! JACKIE: Don’t be that way, Wilson, everything gets flattened out. WILSON: FLATTENED? Oh, I see, downsized and jaded. Aged until…until it’s dust and…don’t be what way, Jackie? JACKIE: You truly, deeply believe you’re above it, don’t you? You’re not exactly the savior of theatre, Wilson. This is how it works. WILSON, stricken: Oh, yeah, I see. Sure, it is. Like…I went to your show, because I like you. I went and just watched. Soulless. Hopelessly soulless, just going through the motions, just– JACKIE: Oh, real kind, sure you did. WILSON: Robotic, Jackie. Just so robotic! I don’t understand how you sell your soul for the same nothing show and nothing apartment and… JACKIE, fighting back emotions: Get the hell out of my house, Wilson. (She goes to the desk and throws his manuscript at him. He doesn’t budge) I said, get THE HELL OUT– (Black, viscous blood shoots from her fingertips, floating upwards into the air. Long silence.) JACKIE: This place takes just as much as it gives. (Lights go down, actors prepare for Scene 3.) Interlude (The lights come up. JACKIE and WILSON enter at the same time. WILSON is holding a notebook he writes in relentlessly, rubbing his eyes. JACKIE has a bag slung over her shoulder. They wander, moving across the stage, going about their tasks. The music swells. WILSON moves in sweeping arcs, writing with increasing fervor, neglecting the world around him. JACKIE starts to fall into an almost-waltz. It looks like she's being thrown around and beaten across the stage, with crescendo'ing violence. They cross each other, and lock eyes, and pause. Then, they continue, falling into a lonely partner dance. There are turns, and clapping, but they do not acknowledge one another. It gets intense, painful. Warm colors rise and attack the stage. Finally, WILSON falters, tripping over his ankle. His notebook falls to the floor ahead of him. JACKIE is directly upstage of him, the notebook directly downstage. He picks himself up, spotlight.) WILSON: When I, uh, dream? Closing my eyes, fading away, moving back into the end, I'm here. At the edge of a cliff, endless darkness out ahead of me. Every time. I can feel the dust collecting on my feet, I can hear the wind beckoning me. I guess it's not really a cliff as much as whatever's out there is a pit. A pit that something or, or someone is supposed to fill. I walk to the edge, and I look down, and, um. I see myself. My reflection, I guess. (He looks up.) You threw me out of your apartment, and I can't tell if that was right, or if I did something wrong. I mean, I was gonna’ put you in it. And I guess that doesn’t matter, but– but to me it does, I think. We keep meeting. And I wish we didn't, ya' know, so I could bury whatever part of me just has to cling. I'm not so lucky. I imagine you'd see it as a statistical anomaly, a gala here, a street corner there. Part of me thinks…no, that's…that's stupid. But, look, I like you. I really like you, I like how you're just there, unshakeable, and how clear you see things and… (He turns around, and points at JACKIE) When I used to look at you, I'd see a version of myself. And I liked that. I think I still do. But now, I see myself in this. (He turns again to the front, pointing to the notebook. JACKIE disappears.) In my dreams, I put both of my feet right up to the end, and I hold my breath, arms outstretched, and I fall. It swallows me. (He raises an arm to the sky) And whatever is unsaid is held forever. The rest is silence. (Blackout.) III White (Rehearsal room, somewhere in the Red Court. There’s a bookshelf of plays, all color coded. WILSON stands alone against the wall, with a manuscript in the crook of his arm. He looks lost. His eyes dart aimlessly, sluggishly, around the room. There’s gold trim around his mask, it isn’t particularly impressive. He looks up at the door out. JACKIE, on a whim, enters. She’s pale. Her mask is featureless. They acknowledge each other. Long silence.) WILSON: Jackie. JACKIE: Wilson. WILSON: How…how are you? JACKIE: Jesus, how old are we? WILSON: Alright. I’m sorry. (Beat.) JACKIE: I’m good. I’m trying– I’m tired, Wilson. WILSON: Tired? JACKIE: Yes. I’m so tired, and I don’t know how I walked in here when I had a million other routes to wherever the hell I was walking to, and…and… WILSON: I see. I see. JACKIE: Are you here, Will? WILSON: What? JACKIE: Right now, are you here. You don’t look well. WILSON: Excuse me? No, maybe I’m not, Jack. I don’t…I don’t know. It’s all so simple. JACKIE: Yeah? WILSON: I think so. I’m…I’m tired too, I think. I haven’t been able to sit and…I don’t have the words. Why aren’t you leaving? JACKIE: I can’t. We keep meeting. And I’ve got more words, more thoughts. I can’t seem to run out. So I can’t seem to leave, sue me. I don’t forgive you. WILSON: I know. (Long silence.) JACKIE: So. How’s the workshop? WILSON: It was OK. I’m undecided. JACKIE: And that’s why you’re alone in your rehearsal space? WILSON: Call it that. Heh. I…They made the changes they wanted to make. I look in the…in the mirror, and don’t recognize myself. What does that say? About me? I guess I’m here just looking for an answer. It’s what I am. It’s what I’ve become. JACKIE: Are you still drinking? WILSON: Are you still smoking? (Beat.) JACKIE: Maybe we’re not the same at all. Christ, maybe we’re too much alike. You know what I’ve been doing? (She pulls up a chair, placing it C) Workshop to workshop, room to room, like a ghost. I had a class on clowning, clowning. Red rubber nose, huge characters. The lady said to view the world like a baby. We took turns making a new uses for a chair. (She dramatically acts each one, over enthusiastically, violently) Here it’s a shield for my mimed sword. Here, set it down and it’s the front seat of a car. Here, I set it on my head and march around and it’s an elaborate headdress or I’m a queen or something. But Wilson, it remains what it is. No one gets to decide that the…that the chair isn’t what it is. Or, I don’t. And I kept thinking - which class sent me spiraling down and out. No one class, or book or whatever, can get me back. Was it the play? Was it something I did? It’s a chair Wilson. Look at it. If I could find that inflection point where the slope peaked, just locate and destroy it, how much I would give to win again. Here, it’s a tapper. Here you put it to a microphone and it sings. Here, you put me nose to grindstone and I will clown for you but… WILSON: But it’s a chair. JACKIE: Right. WILSON: If I could go back in time, Jack, do you know what I’d do? I wouldn’t go fixing tragedies or rigging the stock market. I’d go, back, and I’d fix all those mistakes that taught me to be who I am. The thousands of tiny awakenings. I’m not perfect today, I don’t mean that, but I’m so much better than I was years ago. Or I seem so much better, I act so much better. There’s…there’s ideas always rattling around, always, in my head? I’d be on top of the world, and I’d never stop. I’d never, stop. I’d have my cake and, damn it, I’d eat it too. And I wouldn’t regret. I wouldn’t regret anything. I’d fix what I did to all those people. (Beat.) Hell, I imagine I’d fix this. (Silence. They don’t break eye contact.) Sorry, God, I mean to– JACKIE: I’m wounded, Wilson. WILSON: What? (She reveals her stomach, which has a large gash across its length. It’s spurting coagulated, somewhat dried black blood. WILSON stares.) JACKIE: I’m wounded. I look on my very soul and it’s leaking. WILSON: Shit…I– how…? JACKIE: I don’t know. It wasn’t me, Jesus. I tripped somewhere, over extended somewhere else. It was hairline an age ago. WILSON: Is that anything related to the… (He gestures to her hands. She looks down at them.) JACKIE: Probably. WILSON: Jesus, Jack, that’s…I mean, that’s…(He begins to hyperventilate.) JACKIE: Do you know what I would do, if I could go back in time? I wouldn’t have given up my soul. I wouldn’t have given it up a thousand times. At every meeting, with every open call, in every performance, a million little deaths. Bending, and pushing, and breaking, and breaking, and breaking, and giving! WILSON: Then what are you doing? Why are you here? JACKIE: Because I want it back, Wilson. Because my show at the Mirth was discontinued. Because I need to find a new path. Because I’m a masochist. I…I don’t know. WILSON: I don’t think…that’s not right; you need to go sort yourself out! Christ, I– I don’t know, um. I’m sorry about the Mirth. JACKIE: Are you? Or are you happy that you won’t– that you won’t have to evict me from it yourself? WILSON: That part of me…is dead. (WILSON manages a smile. It’s unclear if he believes it. Suddenly, they both start laughing. It becomes hysterical. They embrace, WILSON tears up. His eyes dart between the windows, and then he begins to cry/laugh unabashedly.) JACKIE: There are two options, the way I see it. Either, I’m wasting, and it’s eating me alive. WILSON: Like a deer. JACKIE: Exactly, exactly. The other option is that…(She hadn’t considered this before.) is that the hole in my stomach lets the light in. The spirit needs somewhere to enter. It’s the path…home. WILSON: I don’t like that. I…no. That’s not it. JACKIE: I think I’m starting to get it. Maybe I need to just– (She notices the shelves of plays, looks at WILSON, and gets up with a start towards the bookshelf.) JACKIE: Oh Jesus, Wilson, I reckon you were right. Down with it! (WILSON begins interjecting, “No, that’s not what I meant,” “what are you talking about,” etc.) If I could go back in time I swear I’d burn it all down! Who’s going to miss it? WHO?! (She begins throwing the plays out from the shelves onto the ground, they fall in a pile. WILSON gets up, clearly deeply stressed, but doesn’t interfere.) WILSON: Jack. Jacqueline, what is this? JACKIE: I say we rip up the canon, bury their muses. That’s what it is! That’s what it’s all about! No more classes, no more stages, the real high art, just– just stop and smell the roses for a second. (She pulls out a cigarette lighter. WILSON crowds behind her.) WILSON: Alright, let’s— JACKIE: Are you not with me on this? Come on, it’ll be fun! (WILSON looks at JACKIE, before going and throwing plays from the shelves.) Thank you! Look at them, WORDS, WORDS, WORDS! USELESS! We’ll just run off somewhere, or break something, or see a sunset. What I would give to see a sunset! (Finally, the bookshelf is empty. JACKIE doesn’t move, and stares at WILSON. Long silence.) JACKIE: Go on, throw it in the pile. WILSON: Excuse me? JACKIE: The manuscript, Wilson. Everything has to go, it’s a goddamned fire sale! WILSON: No, I– no. No way. I– JACKIE: You can’t? You can’t? You hate it, I hate it. I can see it in your eyes, you’re exhausted with it, it puts you to illness. WILSON: Well, look, I– Jackie, I can’t do that, you know I– it’s so easy for you to send it to ash but I don’t…I don’t… JACKIE: Wilson, come on. You can do it Wilson. Into the fire! Into the fire! Into the fire! WILSON: Um. God, screw off! Stop it, stop it! JACKIE: Into the fire! Into the fire! Into the– (WILSON gags, before turning around and stress vomiting. It goes on longer than it should. JACKIE slowly walks towards him, putting a hand on his back.) JACKIE: Jesus, Will, it was…it was just a joke! It’s not like that, I was just…I was joking, Wilson. Heh. It was… do you need help with…? (He shakes his head no, with heaving breath. He wipes his mouth and goes to exit.) Alright. Do you want me to– (He signals no.) It was just a joke Wilson! That’s it! (WILSON exits. JACKIE watches the door for a time, before turning and looking at the large pile of plays on the ground. She kneels, takes one of the books, reads its title. She sparks her lighter, and presses it against the book. It catches, and she places it onto the pile. Her face is expressionless. Blackout. After a time, the sound of a door slamming.) IV Black (A rooftop in the Red Court. One ghost light DC lights the stage. It is turned on by WILSON, sitting and looking at the city below. It is quiet. He winces and rapidly blinks, he looks as though he hasn’t slept in days. The mask he wears is abrasively ornate. He speaks with great effort during this scene. JACKIE enters at the back. She is a silhouette in the darkness.) JACKIE: So why here. WILSON: I come here…a lot. It’s close to where we met, at that party? Look it’s– (He points) it’s just there. JACKIE: That’s thoughtful. You said you frequent? (She approaches, entering the light. Blood has pooled around her eyes. Her mask now looks tacky, as from a costume shop. It has a spiderweb across it.) WILSON: Yeah. I dangle my feet off, and I look down, and I think about…just…falling. (He makes a whistle that gets gradually quieter, before a “boom” sound.) JACKIE: So why don’t you? WILSON: Heh. Sometimes I fear I’ll fall up. Isn’t that awful? JACKIE, sitting down on the other side of the ghost light: It’s not great, no. It’s peaceful, though? WILSON: It is. Lots of time to think. I watch the hordes of people go by blissfully, absent-minded, drunk on it all. JACKIE: They’re enviable. WILSON: That they are. I heard about your coma. JACKIE: You and every producer in the reds, Wilson. WILSON: Do you wanna talk about it? JACKIE: Not particularly, no. (Silence.) But it had me reevaluating everything. Everything that I want, that I dream about. I’m leaving. Soon. WILSON: What? Why? JACKIE: Because this isn’t what it’s all for, is it? What I really want these days is a sunset, or a field, or something. Meeting someone at a party or dancing to old jazz records– WILSON: Or burning old plays? JACKIE: Or watching clouds. I think…if I spend a single day more here, I will die. Worse than that, I mean, there’ll be no one to mourn. WILSON: Hey, stop that. I…I don’t, um, want you to leave. So don’t, please? JACKIE: Wilson. WILSON: Because, because look. I’m really not comprised of a lot. It’s what I do…and you. You’re really all I got, Jack. I don’t know what I, what I become. So you can’t go, don’t. JACKIE: You’ll live. Come on. WILSON: Yeah, ok so I’ll live. But– I walked out. JACKIE: Of…? WILSON: The opening. At the Mirth. My opening. The best moment of my life. Watching it…it was like my spirit had been sucked out and bastardized. Every actor, every light cue, every single piece of blocking. Twisted. I walked before intermission. I didnt turn back, and I came to this roof, and I’ve just…contemplated. JACKIE: Soulless? WILSON: Robotic. Poisonous. And it’s who I am. You can’t separate that performance from me, ya’ know? My names in the headline. So the point, the point is. Heh. I don’t know what’ll happen if I just keep going. JACKIE: You’re focusing really hard on the words, Will. WILSON: Yeah. This…the brain fog. It’s gotten bad. There’s no spark in the words, I just…I just grab for them. Like pinching grains of sand in a sieve. Like holding onto water. JACKIE: So, while you’re up here. What do you dream about? WILSON: Look at this. Us and our dreams. (Beat.) Black water. Endless, in every direction. You and I being lifted upwards, always. It’s peace, and nothing more. Higher and higher. JACKIE: And the hope would build. WILSON: Yes, the hope would build. (Long silence.) JACKIE: If it makes you feel any better, burning those plays didn’t fix it. It gave me nothing the next day but emptiness. I didn’t burn the ones in my apartment, but I haven’t read them since. I thought maybe the answers would be out on the street, a total nobody struggling, but it wasn’t there either. Makes you wonder where the hell else it could be. Makes you wonder if it exists at all. And then, I was walking, and walking, and thinking and thinking, and it was colder then. Like being thrown under icy water, or resting your head in the snow. And I fell into the coma. I don’t know why I fought myself back awake, but I suppose it’s because I wasnt supposed to die lost. WILSON: I just…I just can’t take it. I wish so badly that I could. I thought I could, and I held on for so long with this belief that I was better than everybody. I came here to escape. I hurt a lot of people. I wonder if, if I took off my mask right now, and you weren’t there, would there be a face under it? (JACKIE wipes blood from her eyes, and dabs it in WILSON’s palm, and then her own. She holds her hand out over the threshold, and it begins to float into the air. WILSONs does the same.) JACKIE: This, my blood, it is the Hanged King’s. WILSON: This, my blood, it is the Hanged King’s. JACKIE: Wilson? WILSON: Yeah? JACKIE: Was it ever really love to you? WILSON: Does it matter? (Long silence. They stare at the blood as it swirls and ascends higher and higher in the air. The floating blood congeals into one singular, rising column. WILSON reaches up and puts out the ghost light.) Item #: SCP-8701 Secure Containment Procedures: Investigation into the mechanisms of SCP-8701 are underway, particularly any connections to thaumaturgical memetics it may represent. SCP-8701-1 is kept in a standard containment locker. Description: SCP-8701 is a not-yet-understood process by which denizens of Alagadda are distilled and transformed into works of literary media, particularly those associated with the citizen in question. The catalyst for this transformation is not understood at this time. SCP-8701-1. ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "Jackie And Wilson" by Sushimi, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8701. 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: APS1.jpeg Author: Sushimi License: CC BY SA 3.0 Source Link: SCP FOUNDATION WIKI |
SCP-8703 | esoteric-class | The World is Wounded and the Dream is ending. Torn between love and faith, a lone scholar climbs the Tower of Tlön, pursued by a knight in rusted armor. Unfortunate be thy blessings, Caretaker. Book №: SCP-8703 Psalm I - Object Qualia: Atlas Psalm II - Solemn Caretaking Precepts: In yonder vale of Uqbar, where barren fields do lie forsaken and sealed, Lo, the Tower of Tlön stands, its stature grand, by the Anointed Knights defended. None may draw near, for mortal souls, their presence forbidden, Save the Caretaker alone, who with solemn oath, may enter unopposed. The Caretaker, on his sacred journey, shall bring SCP-8703-II, the incense crafted from the Flowers of Leng. For SCP-8703-III is the Censer, its flames burning bright must be fed every century. Holy Censer, Deliver us from the Miasma spreading from His Wound. Chosen from the SCP Order's highest decree, the Caretaker must embody noble virtue and devout faith. A paragon of piety, strength, and unwavering devotion to the Order's Creed, willing to abandon earthly bonds in the quest for the sacred course. For heavy is the burden, and unfortunate the blessings. The Gift bestowed by Borges, of unfathomable design, serves as the sole key to unlocking the impregnable gates of Tlön. Within the Tower, a journey up fourteen thousand and four steps awaits, culminating in the Ossarium. Before Saint Cipiranus, the Caretaker shall prostrate themselves in reverence. They shall sever their tongue and offer it to the Saint, for only those who have forsaken the hollow promises of this waking world may tread the sacred path. No voice of man shall profane the Sacred Silence of the Cradle. A descent of fourteen thousand and four steps guides the Caretaker to the Cradle, a sanctum of profound tranquility where not even a whisper dare disturb the Holy Sleep of SCP-8703-I, known to the denizens of this realm as the Dreamer. May His Sleep be peaceful and His Dream merciful. With reverence, the Caretaker shall ignite the Censer, filling the air with the fragrant incense of Leng. This eternal flame shall ward off the encroaching Miasma of the Wound, ensuring that SCP-8703-I's slumber remains undisturbed. The Censer must remain alight, for the essence of Leng must burn unceasingly, preserving the Dreamer's reverie and repelling the miasmatic nightmares. With tender hands and solemn silence, the Caretaker shall tend to the ever-bleeding Wound in the Dreamer. For the Dreamer's dream is the world itself, and the Wound is the affliction of this realm. Having fulfilled their sacred duty, the Caretaker shall climb back to the Ossarium, where they shall dwell among their brethren for perpetuity, their legacy enshrined in the annals of time. Unfortunate be thy blessings, Born from his Dream. Psalm III - Description: And the Lady said unto the Fathers of the Orders: Hearken, O Men of Science and Faith! Behold SCP-8703-I, for He is the Dreamer that dreams the world! Behold SCP-8703-II, the incense made from the growth of Leng, for its fragrance, weaves the loom of dreams! And behold SCP-8703-III, the Censer that shall blaze till the Deam ends, for it binds together dreams and vigil! For before there was a world there was the Wound! And before there was a Dream there was the Dreamer! Fear the Miasma that seeps from the Wound! For it births the nightmares within the Dream! Lo, Deep is the Wound in this realm! For as long as there is Life there will be a Wound! Ere the world's dawn, there lingered the Wound, Before the Dream began, the Dreamer was awake. Through the Incense and the Censer, His Dream was born, His Dream became the World, And within his heart, he cradled the Wound! Guard the peace of the Dreamer, for his mind is the chisel that shapes the world of wake, His peaceful Dreams, your solace, Yet His Nightmares, your dire woe! Every century's turn, one of you is chosen, A Caretaker sworn, devotion in his heart. For only they shall tend the Censer's flame, And soothe the Bleeding Wound, the Dreamer's bane. Harvest the blooms of Leng! Ignite them in the Silver Censer! Let it be the shield against the Miasma! Let it hold back the nightmare of the Wound! Protect His rest, make sure he dreams well, For peace in his dreams means peace in this realm, For His nightmares shall bring Hel on Earth. Unfortunate be thy Blessings, Heavy thy Burden, But despair not, Even in the coldest of Hel, One can always dream of a Paradise. Psalm IV - The Tower: Magister Segismund of Noria, DCXVI Caretaker of the Holy Order of the Solemn Caretaker Paladins, stood weary and battered beneath the oppressive presence of the Tower of Tlön. He could not recall how long his journey lasted. In his memories, as shattered as the world he lived, endless nights blended into a single eternity. Had it been one thousand days or only just a fortnight? It did not matter, for time itself had become a cruel jest. A square key should not fit in a round keyhole. Yet somehow Borges' key did and the immense gate groaned open, revealing the yawning maw of the Tower, its cyclopean staircase spiraling endlessly upward into the darkness. As he climbed the 14,004 steps, his exhaustion prevented him from pondering on the mysteries of the Dream. This was, according to the Book, highly inappropriate. Still, too tired to discipline himself, his mind wandered to depths of memory to a half-forgotten time when he renounced something… something that may have resembled love. Alidoro, he whispered. But his musings were abruptly interrupted by the ominous sound of approaching footsteps, heavy and metallic in their cadence. At that pace, he thought, the was no chance of outrunning his pursuer. With a resigned sigh, Segismund took refuge by a window. On the outside, only the endless desolation of Uqbar. Far in the distance, the faint glimpse of the once mighty towers of Eur Te'ek engulfed in flames. Probably, just a trick of the light. Nothing is right anymore. The metallic footsteps kept growing louder and louder until an imposing figure emerged from the shadows. A specter of former glory, its once-shining armor now tarnished and decayed was recognized by the Caretaker. "Anointed Knight," Segismund felt odd speaking to another one after so much time, "Turn back on your steps, for this path is not yours to walk." "The Caretaker, I presume." "I have come in the name of my order to fulfill my duty. As you should be fulfilling yours. I searched for the Horizon Legion when entering the valley, yet it was a fruitless endeavor." "Unfortunately, I must inform you the Legion is no more. The hordes of the Crimson Khan laid siege to us. We resisted for weeks waiting for the Orden reinforcements from Eur, but they never came. Why have you forsaken us?" "One night the Moon howled and madness was born among those ill-fated who hear it. We did not respond in time and Eur burnt to the ground." "So the Workshop City is gone. Is it true that a similar doom came to Alagadda?" "The city felt victim of a terrible plague whose true nature no one could explain. A so-called doctor railed the masses promising a cure, yet it only led to more chaos. Eventually, even the king himself was hanged. That is everything I know." "A shame, I was raised there. Though I used to wish for that hellhole to be razed. Unfortunate are the blessings, aren't they?" "My condolences." "Even before the Wound reopened, Caretakers did not dare to travel alone." "I was to be escorted by the Northmen sellswords of the Band of the Raven. Yet their loyalty to our cause vanished as soon as our gold did. Now they plunder the lands they were once hired to protect." "Trust ravens and they'll peck your eyes out." "Words of Wisdom…" "Did you bring it, the Incense of Leng? I heard the flowers were no more." "The flowers had been dwindling for centuries. Yet the Order prevails." "So is there still hope? To hold the Nightmare back?" The Caretaker delayed his answer. "I feel that I should be the one asking the questions. Why do you trail my path?" "I want to meet Him. I want to see the Dreamer." "No one but the Caretaker shall see the Dreamer." "To Hel with that! Me and my brothers forfeit our lives in His service. Their corpses now rot under an unforgiving sun. If the Nightmare is truly His doing, then… He must answer to my sword!" "Madness and blasphemy!" "If the Nightmare won't end… I shall end it! I will wake us up!" The fallen knight took a step but found himself facing a flintlock pistol gripped firmly in the Caretaker's hand. "Why is a holy man in possession of such an infernal device?" "Using this brings no joy to me. Retreat and do not look back." The knight took another step. "You would not dare to shoot in this holy place…" There was a sound of thunder. The bullet broke through the knight's chainmail piercing his leg to the bone. The Anointed One fell on his knees. "Curse you, scholar! How long do you intend to keep with this farce?" Segismund turned his back, ignoring the pleas of the fallen knight. Psalm V - The Ossarium: The Ossarium was the chapel at the top of Tlön—the final resting place of all past Caretakers. Its walls, floor, and ceiling were a canvas of death, each bone a brushstroke in a painting of macabre ornaments for eternal devotion. And at its heart, upon a throne forged from the very bones of his successors, sat Saint Ciprianus, the first of the Caretakers, his skeletal remains encased in golden armor as a symbol of divine reverence. At his feet, thousands of mummified tongues, the testament of the gruesome tribute the Caretakers had to pay for millennia. "Holy Saint Ciprianus, Father of Order, First of the Caretakers, please accept my humble sacrifice." Segismund kneeled, knife in hand. He searched within for the determination to fulfill the deal. To free his heart from any longing and give himself truly to the Dreamer. Yet he could only find one word. Alidoro. A single word that described the truest devotion of his heart. His hand trembled. The knife fell. He looked at the empty eyes of the Saint, imploring for wisdom, strength, and maybe even… compassion. But he could only find contempt and repulsion in the empty visage of the eyeless Saint. His shame turned into terror, as the roar of the clockwork engine inside the armor started and Ciprianus moved once more. The Saint stood from his throne and raised a hand. A myriad of bones flew to his raised fist, forming a saw-blade from spines, ribs, and teeth. Segismund narrowly avoided the first strike of the bone blade. Slipping on one of the severed tongues, he felt the sting of his predecessor's remains as he collapsed over a pile of skulls and ribcages. The Saint pursued him erratically, his gears rusted after millennia. The Caretaker tried to crawl away, but it was useless. He closed his eyes, as he waited for the Saint's last judgment. Yet the punishment never came. He opened his eyes to find Saint's attack blocked by yet another blade." "Your infernal device! Use it!" Shouted the Anointed Knight. Segismund fumbled in a panic looking for powder and bullets inside his bag. Reloading the contraption was no trivial manner and he never trained to do it quickly, let alone under the stress of mortal danger. The knight desperately parried the cruel punishment of the clockwork Saint. He was a skilled one, but with a broken leg, there was little to do against the mechanical raw strength of his opponent. It was only necessary one ill-timed parry for his posture to break and the knight found himself on the ground, his ribcage shattered. The Caretaker only had one shot. Unsure where to aim, he instinctually pulled the trigger as soon as the clockwork roar started again, announcing the Saint's next move. It should be unthinkable that a mere human weapon could even scratch the divine alchemy powering the mechanical Saint. Yet once in a lifetime, misfortune can work in one's favor, for what is one's fortune if not the misfortune of another? The bullet hit, not in gilded iron not in brittle bone, but in the precise hollow where it reached the core of the engine, ceasing the entirety of the mechanism. The roaring sound went silent, and the Saint forever stood still. Segismund reached the wounded knight. Blood dripped from the crevices of his helmet. The Caretaker sought to cleanse it, but with a sign of his hand, the Anointed One prevented him. "Wake us up from this nightmare," exhaled the knight with his last breath. Psalm VI - The Cradle: Fourteen thousand and four steps had the downward spiral stairs hidden behind the Saint's throne. At least that was the Book said, for Segismund had counted one fourteen thousand and two and he could not decide whether he or the Book were mistaken. Psalms described the Cradle as a place of holiness and contemplation, where the absolute silence revealed the dreamed fabric of this world. He found instead a wet den of rotting miasma, putrid and profound as the Wound itself. The Silver Censer still burned, albeit pathetically, for the aromatic embers inside were almost pure ashes, barely a symbolic gesture against the toxic fumes. The Caretaker clasped the small pouch of Leng incense tightly to his chest. Once a plentiful resource found in every garden, the flower of Leng now teetered on the edge of extinction. Desperate, the Order had waged a futile war of conquest in search of the elusive flower, perhaps hidden in faraway lands. Yet even with the Ravens plundering every dark corner of the known world, only enough material for a pitiful spoon of incense could be prepared. Not enough to feed the Censer, not enough to fade the Miasma. Behind the Censer, the faint light coming from the consumed embers revealed not the serene and peaceful dreamer depicted in sacred icons, but the corpse-like hollowed host of a nightmare. His body was all consumed by the relentless rot and even the Everbleeding Wound was dry, for after draining all of the blood left on Him, it drained the world instead. Segismund wanted to weep, but hold back for not even then could he dare to break the Holy Silence. It can not be. It can not end this way. "It is fine. You can cry if you must. It is only natural to grieve for the end of the world… To be fair the silence and the tongue cutting have not been necessary for a while. His whole auditory system rotted a long time ago." Segismund turned back to face the voice that dared to break the Holy Silence. In front of him, a sharp-dressed lady in an elegant and colorful attire stood graciously, her feet barely touching the disgusting soil. The Caretaker marveled at the mortuary makeup covering her gentle face, of the likes he had never seen before. "Who art thou?" "Unfortunate be thy blessings, Caretaker. For you know well who I am… querido." Segismund eyes opened wide. "Are you here for me? For the Dreamer?" His mind rushed to the apocalyptic depictions of end times in the halls of the Order's Abbey. "Or are you here to celebrate thine final triumph over the world of Orbis?" "That the end of Life means a Triumph for me is a gross but common misunderstanding of my office." "Then, what brings you here?" "Only the earnest desire to witness the last of the Caretakers as he fulfills his final duty." "Then what a disappointing sight this must be. The incense is no more and the Dreamer is rotten to the core. And me, a sad excuse of a man shunned by Saint Ciprianus himself. Shame shall forever haunt me for lacking devotion." "As is usual to happen when a woman speaks, men understand what fits their agenda. I indeed said that the Caretaker should be one of devotion, but I spoke not of devotion to a faith or the Order. No, I spoke of a deeper devotion—a devotion to Life itself. A commitment to the happiness of others. In essence, love." "And you see that in me?" "You do love Alidoro, don't you?" "For years I believed that feeling to be ashes. Yet the embers…" "The embers remain. Good, we shall work with that." "Tell me what should I do." "Are you familiar with the craft of incense making?" "Since a tender age. But the flowers are gone." The Lady smiled sardonically and shrugged. Behind her, Segismund glimpsed a vision of an endless field of orange flowers. The Lady's arms now held a beautiful bouquet, which she lovingly handed to the Caretaker. "The flowers of Leng!" "As many as you need." "May I inquire something? The scholars of the Order could never uncover the true nature of the growth of Leng and its importance to the Dream. What is the real meaning of this flower?" "The only flower that flourishes both in the land of the dead and in the land of the living. But it also thrives in the realm of dreams, for it is made of the same very essense. Afterall, dreams are the bridge between Life and Death." "So the Dream is woven from these flowers. And it's nurtured by them. But won't it be too late to ignite the Censer? The Dreamer is still dying and the Wound runs too deep into this world. The Anointed One wanted us to wake up… but I'm afraid nothing is waiting at the other side of the Dream." "Someone once wrote that life is but a dream. If so, isn't dying like waking up?" "Was the knight correct? Should the world be let to end in a whimper?" "Or a bang if you prefer." "Why should I be the one in charge of this decision? The Order… the people… they should have a say." "You alone are the Caretaker. You and only you. For that is your unfortunate blessing." "And heavy is my burden… is death truly so unpleasant?" "You tell me. You have already tasted death." "Have I?" "What is Sleep if not a little taste of Death in Life? And what are Dreams if not taste of Life in Death?" "And yet I don't want to die. I don't want my world to end. Not for it to be an eternal nightmare. There must be another way." "Your words echo those pronounced a long time ago by someone in a similar predicament." "The Dreamer…" The Lady gently touched Segismund forehead and he was bombarded with visions of a world beyond his wildest machinations. Steel and crystal towers as tall as Tlön… horseless carriage pulled by steam magic… men with crystal helmets walking on the Moon… a glorious civilization of might and magic beyond anything he could conceive… and yet a dark cloud rose in the horizon… flying war machines of terrible implication raining Miasma and Nightmares from the skies. "His world was quite different yet curiously similar to yours. The Dreamer was not a god nor a deity. He was from an organization not so different from your Order. You could say he was a Caretaker of sorts." Segismund saw a man in white robes crouched at a cramped desk, surrounded by unthinkable machines. Arround the laboratoy there were several orange flowers, some inside matraces and other under magnifying glasses. He seemed to work tirelessly, fanatically obsessing over the designs of his devices. Segismund managed to glimpse the title of the document. Central Electro-Neural Sensor… Censer. "He realized the relationship between the Flowers of Leng, dreams and reality. When his world was wounded, he used the Censer to seal the Wound within him.. and dream of a new world. His dream gave birth to Orbis, just as another dream had given birth to his." "So it has happened before." "Countless times." "So you are saying.. that I could do the same. Seal the wound within me and use the flowers and the Censer to… dream a new dream. Become a new Dreamer." "Though I must inform you it won't be pleasant to bear the Wound. It is deep, painful and ultimately bound to open once again, secreting miasma and nightmares." "For as long as there is Life there will be a Wound. Is that the deal?" "Life is an unfortunate blessing, don't you agree?" The Lady's smile was bittersweet. "And yet I want to keep on living. To keep on dreaming. I want to dream of a better world. For Alidoro… for everyone. Even if that Dream won't last forever. Even if that Dream will bear the Wound." "You have spoken like a true Caretaker. So be it." Segismund of Noria, the DCXVI Caretaker of the Order, grabbed the holy Censer and the bouquet and started walking back, away from the Nightmare and the Miasma. The Lady stood there, watching him disappear into the dark. As the Miasma began to fade, she could sense the dawn of a new world… a new Dream being born from that very cradle. Behind her, the kaleidoscopic dreg of ruined worlds and broken dreams hoovered ominously. Each of those worlds had been unique and yet, something of each one survived in the next. Life kept finding a way despite the entropic forces of the Wound and would keep doing it as long as someone was willing to Dream of a better world. For that was the nature of the Unfortunate Blessing. "Until the next Dream, Caretaker." ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8703" by Kilerpoyo, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8703. 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: dream Name: The Dream of St. Martin (detail) Author: Simone Martini License: Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication ("CCO 1.0 Dedication") Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Simone_Martini_-_The_Dream_of_St._Martin_(detail)_-_WGA21369.jpg Filename: tlon2 Name: text-with-initials-rubrics-and-drawing-of-tower-of-babel Author: NA License: Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication ("CCO 1.0 Dedication") Source Link: https://picryl.com/media/text-with-initials-rubrics-and-drawing-of-tower-of-babel-2d2c80 Filename: basel Name: Basel, Universitätsbibliothek, AN II 3, p. 126v – Matriculation Register of the Rectorate of the University of Basel, Volume 1 Author: NA License: Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication ("CCO 1.0 Dedication") Source Link: https://picryl.com/media/basel-universitatsbibliothek-an-ii-3-p-126v-matriculation-register-of-the-rectorate-525af9 Filename: saint Name: Memento Mori from BL Eg 1070, f. 53 Author: NA License: Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication ("CCO 1.0 Dedication") Source Link: https://picryl.com/media/memento-mori-from-bl-eg-1070-f-53-f91909 Filename: dreamer Name: NA Author: NA License: Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication ("CCO 1.0 Dedication") Source Link: https://picryl.com/media/full-page-miniature-15e33c |
SCP-8709 | esoteric-class | + Show component code - Hide component code :root { --sidebar-width-on-desktop: calc(var(--base-font-size) * (266 / 15)); --body-width-on-desktop: 45.75rem; } @media only screen and (min-width: 56.25rem) { #content-wrap { display: flex; position: initial; flex-direction: row; flex-grow: 2; width: calc(100vw - (100vw - 100%)); max-width: inherit; height: auto; min-height: calc(100vh - var(--final-header-height-on-desktop, 10.125rem)); margin: 0 var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 13.6rem) 0 calc(var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 13.6rem) * -1 / 2); } #main-content { position: initial; width: var(--body-width-on-desktop, 45.75rem); max-width: var(--body-width-on-desktop, 45.75rem); max-height: 100%; margin: 0 auto; padding: 2rem 1rem; } #page-content { max-width: min(90vw, var(--body-width-on-desktop, 45.75rem)); } #side-bar { position: -webkit-sticky; position: sticky; top: 0; left: 0; grid-area: side-bar; width: var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 13.6rem) !important; 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position: initial; flex-direction: row; flex-grow: 2; width: calc(100vw - (100vw - 100%)); max-width: inherit; height: auto; min-height: calc(100vh - var(--final-header-height-on-desktop, 10.125rem)); margin: 0 var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 13.6rem) 0 calc(var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 13.6rem) * -1 / 2); } #main-content { position: initial; width: var(--body-width-on-desktop, 45.75rem); max-width: var(--body-width-on-desktop, 45.75rem); max-height: 100%; margin: 0 auto; padding: 2rem 1rem; } #page-content { max-width: min(90vw, var(--body-width-on-desktop, 45.75rem)); } #side-bar { position: -webkit-sticky; position: sticky; top: 0; left: 0; grid-area: side-bar; width: var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 13.6rem) !important; min-width: var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 13.6rem) !important; max-height: 100vh; padding-right: 2.5rem; padding-left: 0.5rem; overflow-y: scroll; transition: translate 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1), background-color 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1), padding 300ms linear, margin 300ms linear; border: none; border-color: rgba(var(--swatch-tertiary-color, 170, 170, 170), 0.4); background-color: rgba(var(--sidebar-bg-color, 255, 255, 255), 0); translate: calc(var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 13.5rem) * -1 - 1rem); direction: rtl; scrollbar-width: thin; -ms-scroll-chaining: none; overscroll-behavior: contain; scrollbar-color: rgba(var(--swatch-primary-darker), 0.1) /* Thumb */ rgba(var(--swatch-tertiary-color), 0.05); /* Track */ } #side-bar::-webkit-scrollbar-track { background-color: rgba(var(--swatch-secondary-color, 244, 244, 244), 0.8); } #side-bar::-webkit-scrollbar, #side-bar::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb, #side-bar::-webkit-scrollbar-corner { width: 0.5rem; border-right-width: calc(100vw + 100vh); border-right-style: inset; border-color: inherit; background-color: rgba(var(--sidebar-bg-color, 255, 255, 255), 0); } #side-bar:is(:hover, :active, :focus-within) { margin-right: 2.25rem; padding-right: 0.25rem; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: auto; border-color: rgba(var(--swatch-primary-darker), 1); background-color: rgba(var(--sidebar-bg-color, 255, 255, 255), 1); translate: calc(var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 1rem) - var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 0)); scrollbar-color: rgba(170, 170, 170, 1) /* Thumb */ rgba(252, 252, 252, 1); /* Track */ scrollbar-color: rgb(var(--swatch-primary-darker, 170, 170, 170), 1) /* Thumb */ rgb(var(--swatch-menubg-color, 252, 252, 252), 1); /* Track */ } #main-content::after { content: " "; display: flex; position: fixed; top: 0; left: 1rem; align-items: center; justify-content: center; width: 1rem; height: 100%; max-height: 100%; transition: left 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1), background-position 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1), opacity 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1); background: url("https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/component%3Acollapsible-sidebar/sidebar-tab.svg"); background-attachment: fixed; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: center left 1rem; background-size: 1rem 12.875rem; pointer-events: none; } #side-bar:is(:hover, :active, :focus-within) + #main-content::after { left: calc(var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 14.5rem) * -1); width: 0rem; transition: left 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1), background-position 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1), opacity 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1); opacity: 0; background-position: center left calc(var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 14.5rem) * -1); font-size: 0em; } #main-content::before { content: " "; position: absolute; z-index: 9; top: var(--final-header-height-on-desktop, 0); left: 0; width: var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 14.5rem); height: calc(100% - var(--final-header-height-on-desktop, 0.688rem) - 2.313rem); margin-bottom: calc(var(--final-header-height-on-desktop, -2.313rem) * -1 - 2.313rem); transition: translate 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1), opacity 300ms cubic-bezier(0.4, 0.0, 0.2, 1); opacity: 0.5; background-color: rgb(var(--swatch-alternate-color, 0, 0, 0)); pointer-events: none; translate: calc(var(--sidebar-width-on-desktop, 14.5rem) * -1 + 1rem); } #side-bar:is(:hover, :active, :focus-within) + #main-content::before { translate: 0; opacity: 0; } #side-bar .side-block { margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 0.25em; border-right-width: 0rem; border-left-width: 0rem; border-radius: 0; background-color: rgb(0, 0, 0, 0); direction: ltr; } #side-bar .scpnet-interwiki-wrapper { direction: ltr; } /* Print Friendly Formatting by Estrella */ body.print-body { --sidebar-width-on-desktop: 0; } body.print-body #main-content::before, body.print-body #main-content::after { display: none; } } Item#: 8709 Level5 Containment Class: esoteric Secondary Class: zurvan Disruption Class: amida Risk Class: critical link to memo Assigned Site Site Director Research Head Assigned Task Force Site-09 Dir. Malcom Ritter Dr. Abraham Wright MTF Kappa- 10 ("Skynet") Attention: Subsequent events provided in this document may or may not have already occurred. Head Researcher Dr. Abraham Wright has been charged with keeping detailed and up-to-date logs on SCP-8709 following each programmed cycle. If Dr. Wright does not exist, the O5 council shall determine an appropriate replacement. Special Containment Procedures: Since the permanent containment of SCP-8709 is currently impossible, tracking of the entity's black body radiation will be used to determine materialization points. A perimeter of 10 kilometers around each site is to be maintained and monitored at all times, with MTF Kappa- 10 ("Skynet") being ready to mobilize should the entity shift away from the area. Updated: 12/12/1991 Due to the nature of SCP-8709 and the revelations of its purpose, the security level of this document has been elevated to clearance Level 5/8709. All unauthorized personnel and civilians will be administered Class C amnestics, with individual access to SCP-8709 to now be at the discretion of the O5 council. Future endeavors will be on efforts to protect and erase any information released. A manifestation of SCP-8709. Description: SCP-8709 is a emergent property of a supercomputer program, appearing as a 25 meter tall black, non-reflective structure. The composition of the entity is comparable to boids,1 stimulating a quantum entanglement state that fluctuates within reality. SCP-8709 uses this phenomena to trans-locate to any locale around the world, with primary functionality including monitoring system resources and scenario progression. These manifestations of SCP-8709 have caused significant destabilization at each site, generating powerful black body radiation2 detectable from up to 10 kilometers away. Constant tracking of these conditions has allowed for anticipation of the next materialization sites within the range of 24 hours. Upon manifesting, SCP-8709 will enter an active state; turning on high-intensity light that emits brief omnidirectional flashing at 2 to 3 rotations per second that lasts for 4 hours. These long exposures subject large areas to ionizing radiation of 25 - 30 mSv3 per rotation, causing substantial physical and psychological phenomena. This intermittent photic simulation triggers a condition closely relating to photosensitive epilepsy, with subjects unable to recall their activities during the manifestation. Recovered recordings show individuals conducting normal activities while themselves and surrounding structures are continuously atomized then reconstructed from SCP-8709's photo-radiation. Further examination of these sites also exhibited extensive transformations of the locale, with several objects and occupants composed of abnormal matter, indicating reoccurring data reconstruction errors. These changes only occur within 10 kilometers of the SCP-8709 manifestation, showing a severe but limited effect on the immediate area. During contact with SCP-8709, pronounced radio signals were captured matching coded transmissions to the Foundation. These signals were being transferred to a terminal at site-09, an underwater facility located in the Horizon Deep. The terminal, designated Y2K, is a Hewlett-Packard VT2640 that has been heavily retrofitted to perform complex quantum computations and P2P networking4, and was used for communication with the entity. Over the course of 72 hours, testing was conducted to isolate the signal, leading to the discovery of SCP-8709's wireless access point and the collection of various scenario data from SCP-8709. For security purposes, the terminal was secluded on a closed interoperable network with several Cerberus firewalls before connecting to SCP-8709's mainframe. Addendum SCP-8709-1: Archive +Login to Y2K -Logout of Y2K Forward: Successful access to SCP-8709's database occurred on September 20, 1982, at site-09. This archive contains results generated by another reality's DEPTHS Project. Events described may or may not have already occurred. SCP-8709 Archive The following data is an archive of completed, non-sequential simulations produced by the DEPTHS project. The information provided is to be used strictly for formulating potential solutions or preventive measures for XK Class events. Head Researcher Dr. Abraham Wright is the designated contact for this project and should be contacted for any requests. Any unauthorized personnel found accessing this database will be reprimanded. Scenario: 1 Location: N/A Event: Atomic breakdown of digital matrix. Diagnostic Analysis: Failure to construct scenario parameters. Implemented revised computational directives. Scenario: 43 Location: N/A Event: Simulated reality inconsistent with parameters. Diagnostic Analysis: Failure to simulate accurate scenario. Different degrees of impartial combination of biological and synthetic objects. Rework of examinations done by digital network. Scenario: 55 Location: N/A Event: Unsatisfactory simulation of human sentience resulting in mass suicide, starvation and violence. Diagnostic Analysis: Failure to simulate accurate replicas. Integration of lead researcher Dr. Abraham Wright 's brain scans provided as a foundational template for random generation of the human consciousness. Scenario: 101 Location: Brazil Extinction: 352 days Diagnostic Analysis: Failure of SCP Foundation to combat air and water contamination of a bio-hazard. Advise: Development of fungal treatment and decentralization of water resources. Scenario: 582 Location: N. Broadway, Chicago Extinction: 1400 days Diagnostic Analysis: Failure of SCP Foundation to adequately combat GOI projects or activities. Advise: A monthly sweep of departments in the Chicago area. Aggressive restriction of GOI resources. Scenario: 882 Location: N/A Event: Simulation interrupted due to incomplete information. Diagnostic Analysis: Failure to simulate scenario. Initiated update of protocols and subroutines. Beginning process to generate physical structure in current simulation to assist with synchronization of branched program. Scenario: 1033 Location: Cairo, Egypt Extinction: 442 days Diagnostic Analysis: Failure of SCP Foundation to combat air and water contamination of a bio-hazard. Advise: Resource allocation for sanitizing large water sources and eradication of specific microorganisms. Scenario: 3221 Location: N/A Event: Corruption of scenario due to incomplete reboot. Subsequent XK event carried over to new simulation resulting in assimilation of the current event. Diagnostic Analysis: Failed reset of scenario. Increasing progress to transfer over data between generated simulations. Scenario: N/A Location: N/A Event: Unauthorized command detected. Viral load distributed. Please wait…. Diagnostic Analysis: WARNING: Separation incomplete, destabilization at 89%. Virus spreading to simulation branches: 4905, 4904, 4903, 4902, 4901, 4900 Addendum SCP-8709-2: The DEPTHS Project Upon gaining access to the mainframe, multiple mentions of the DEPTHS Project were uncovered, initiating an inquiry into the project's ongoing activities at Site-09. The project was developed in the early 1980s , initiated by the increasing frequency and severity of anomalous disasters, particularly the "White Fire" event in 1978. Prompting the need for a comprehensive multi-level evaluation, a quantum computational matrix was engineered for simulating and analyzing hypothetical XK class scenarios. The onboard artificial intelligence , Aeon, oversees the analytics, pinpointing potential hypo-centers for each simulated event. As outlined in DEPTHS documentation, failure to manage an event triggers a system reboot, reverting the simulation to a prior state to initiate a new cycle under comparable conditions. Each cycle has the potential for a branch to form. Known as "branching," this phenomenon occurs when a DEPTHS simulation successfully integrates into an existing computational framework. This process results in a layered or nested simulation environment, facilitating the coalescence and interaction of multiple simulated realities within a singular matrix. The branching mechanism is intricate and dynamic, drawing upon advanced quantum computing principles, algorithms, and predictive analytics to coordinate the interconnected layers. Each branch presents a unique scenario, creating an expansive platform for various XK class simulations and their prospective outcomes across a potentially infinite continuum. The "depth" of these branches signifies their positioning relative to the baseline reality, encapsulating layers of interlinked simulations, each characterized by its distinct parameters and outcomes. Each subsequent branch serves as a pivotal nexus within these groupings and should a preceding branch fail or be terminated (KUT)7, it would trigger a collapse of the associated realities, setting off a chain reaction throughout the simulated framework. SCP-8709's designation will vary based on a realities progression, alternatively recognized as SCP-001, the Avatar of a Broken God, or the Tower. These deviations seen within SCP-8709’s archive suggest accumulating differences leading to significant historical deviations, alterations in the laws of physics, or the emergence of fantastical elements, among other possibilities. Given the inherent unpredictability of quantum mechanics, the simulations archived within SCP-8709 display intrinsic instability, presenting as inconsistencies or "glitches” within the computational matrix. The program has encountered significant setbacks, with 56% of scenarios failing to complete due to state fidelity issues or quantum decoherence. To address these issues, SCP-8709 has integrated synchronized error correction, utilizing scans from alternate realities to provide real-time updates to its simulated counterpart. Since the discovery of SCP-8709, a consistent frequency decline of 2.8Hz per synchronization attempt has been observed, with the universe's frequency dropping from 963Hz to 837Hz, signaling progressive deterioration. Drawing parallels between the project's AI, SCP-8709's operations, and the connection to terminal Y2K, it is speculated that SCP-8709 is a manifestation of an ongoing simulation of the baseline reality. Efforts to halt the synchronization process and maintain the current simulated state are currently in progress under the supervision of Dr. Abraham Wright. Addendum SCP-8709-3: Infection On December 1, 1998, SCP-8709 contracted the c-(kenoma) virus following an extra-dimensional incursion of a arboreal instance of SCP-8709. This event resulted in both entities becoming spatially locked off the coast of Hilton Head, South Carolina. Subsequently, these instances have been reclassified as SCP-8709-1 and SCP-8709-2. The infection has induced a conjoining between SCP-8709-1 and SCP-8709-2, leading to the development of branchial growths at a rate of 0.9 meters per day. Significant mutation of the boids have coalesced into a fractal-like structure, spreading across the surface and subsurface of both instances. As it progresses, subsequent simulations have been observed undergoing a similar conversion, suggesting the consolidation of multiple scenarios infected by the c-(kenoma) virus. This is indicative of a systemic failure within the interconnected virtual environments, resulting in the merger of multiple SCP-8709 and simulations into a single, corrupted matrix. Due to this, SCP-8709-1’s data reconstruction capabilities have been severely compromised, with the affected locale exhibiting non-Euclidean spaces, conceptual cross-contamination, temporal paradoxes, and overlapping XK-class events. Attempts to correct systematic errors through the synchronization process have resulted in computational feedback loops, accelerating the destabilization of SCP-8709-1 and SCP-8709-2. These feedback loops have increased the spread of branchial growths and associated anomalies, leading to minor aberrations escalating into major breaches of containment. Current systemic collapse estimated in 428 days. Footnotes 1. An artificial life which simulates the flocking behavior of birds, and related group motion. 2. Thermal electromagnetic radiation within or surrounding a body in thermodynamic equilibrium with its environment 3. Millisievert is the scientific unit of measurement for whole body radiation dose, called "effective dose." 4. Peer-to-peer network, where computers provide equal access to resources and data. 5. An enlargement of the liver and spleen. 6. Swollen or enlarged lymph nodes 7. Kernel Unit Termination « SCP-8708 | SCP-8709 | SCP-8710 » ‡ Licensing / Citation ‡ Hide Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8709" by Petdoc1991, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-8709. 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: LighthouseSCP6888.jpg Name: Storm clouds at sunset over Bathurst Island, 80km North of Darwin.jpg Author: GDW.45 License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Source Link: Wikimedia Commons |
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