Item #: SCP-7955

Object Class: Neutralized (formerly Euclid)

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7955's liquid remains have been sealed in a 200-litre hazardous waste drum and transferred to a mundane treatment facility. With no anomalous traits having been detected as of 23/11/2020, these remains can be disposed of without risk of potential contamination.

PREVIOUS CONTAINMENT PROCEDURES

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SCP-7955 is to be contained at Site 44 in a modified humanoid containment cell with a shatterproof glass observation window and an airtight door. The air vents are to be fitted with metal shutters and internal filters.

SCP-7955 is allowed a bed, a chair, a desk, a shower cubicle, and a toilet. SCP-7955 is allowed access to books, writing paper, and crayons on request. These items should only be removed from the cell if SCP-7955 is in its default form and in full view of staff.

The cell interior is to be subject to 24/7 audiovisual recording, both to monitor SCP-7955's transformations and to ensure that any important information communicated while talking to itself is not lost.

SCP-7955 must be personally supervised at all times to ensure that it does not become confused and endanger itself over the course of its daily testing regimen. It also must be reminded to eat meals, attend to personal grooming, and dress itself in the clothes provided for it.

In the event that SCP-7955 attempts to escape, it can be easily detected by involuntary errors in its disguises and will rarely be able to convincingly imitate human mannerisms. However, if it becomes aggressive during efforts to placate or recapture it, security personnel are to maintain a distance of at least two meters to avoid warning strikes while restraining it.

The most reliable known method of subduing SCP-7955 is to pin it to the ground with heavy nets, social distancing clamps, and long catch poles, allowing personnel to remain out of reach until SCP-7955 exhausts both its stamina and its repertoire of shapes. After this, SCP-7955 can be carried back to its cell without resistance.

Description: Prior to 13/10/2020, SCP-7955 was a 38-year-old male humanoid, biologically human to all mundane tests. In its default form, it exhibited a total height of 170 cm and a below-average weight of 45 kilograms1, along with olive skin, lobeless ears, and a bald head. Pre and postmortem attempts to trace its origins were stymied by the fact that the only name it could remember (Brother Lebbaeus) was a pseudonym.

SCP-7955 possessed polymorphic traits that allowed it to assume a wide variety of forms, including humanoids, animals, and inanimate objects. However, it could not become liquids or gasses during its time in containment, nor could it mimic clothing in its humanoid form, and due to its neurodegenerative condition, most of SCP-7955's shapes exhibited noticeable errors.2

SCP-7955 was afflicted with a unique and rapidly advancing form of dementia, the symptoms of which included progressive memory loss, disorientation, emotional disturbance, and general cognitive decay. MRI scans and SCP-7955's testimony confirmed that its neurological health was inversely proportional to the strength of its polymorphic traits: advancing mutations in its brain allowed it a greater range of ability, but also degraded healthy brain tissue, resulting in progressively more advanced symptoms of dementia.

At the time of its discovery, SCP-7955 was in the early-to-middle stages of the condition, but it rapidly declined over the course of the following weeks, eventually leading to its neutralization.

Discovery Log: SCP-7955 was first encountered on 10/03/2020, in a remote coastal region of Caithness, Scotland, where it was observed emerging from the ocean in mid-transformation by local fishermen (who then contacted the authorities). Once mass hysteria was eliminated as a possible cause, the Foundation was contacted in order to avert any potential danger to the public. Foundation agents arrived in the area on 15/03/2020, amnesticized witnesses, and began attempts to capture the entity.

Within twenty-four hours, agents discovered a distinctive trail of footprints leading across a deserted beach, each print clearly belonging to a different animal. Following the trail eventually led agents to a crude burrow dug under one of the neighbouring cliffs, where SCP-7955 was found in human form, naked and without possessions except for a few stolen scraps of food. Initially attempting to flee the area in various forms, SCP-7955 was pinned to the ground with a net thrown by Agent Lothson, and exhausted itself while shapeshifting in a panicked attempt to escape. It was easily restrained soon after.

Following its capture, SCP-7955 did not resist any of the agents escorting it to containment, complying with all orders and making no attempt to fight or flee. However, it remained uncommunicative for the next ten hours, presumably out of fear, as it often transformed into inanimate objects when agents attempted to ask it a question.

SCP-7955's first attempt at speech was to request medical attention, as it was reportedly suffering from a severe headache and the painkillers that it had stolen from various tourists over the last few days were no longer working3. Upon realizing the nature of the Foundation, it claimed to have important data to share, though disorientation and memory loss made this information difficult to communicate.

Following standard medical tests and preliminary analysis of its polymorphic traits, interviews to ascertain the nature of SCP-7955's information began soon after.

+ Preliminary Records

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Interviewed: SCP-7955

Interviewer: Dr Marcus Magdaleno

Foreword: Interview commences forty-eight hours after initial containment at Site 44. SCP-7955 spends the first minute of this interview anxiously twiddling its thumbs, unable to make eye contact.

<Begin Log, 10:00 AM, 20/03/2020>

Dr Magdaleno: Good morning, SCP-7955.

SCP-7955: (coughs nervously) Er… good morning. Pleased to meet you, doctor…?

Dr Magdaleno: Magdaleno. I was hoping that you could tell me about your past and your abilities… and about the important information you wanted to share.

SCP-7955: After all the tests, I'm pretty sure you know my capabilities better than I do, and if you've seen my MRI scans, you know my memories are full of holes. (as it twiddles its thumbs, it sprouts two additional digits, then absently erases them)

Dr Magdaleno: Then let's talk about what you can remember, shall we? Can you recall the source of your abilities? Were you born a shapeshifter or were you human?

SCP-7955: As far as I can remember, I started out as a human. I had parents, older brothers and sisters, a normal education, and for a while, a job. But other than that, my memories from that time are just blurry snapshots. I can remember my parents, for example, but I don't remember what they looked like, and whenever I try… well, it's like the faces have been scratched out of the family photos, if that makes sense.

Dr Magdaleno: What about your appearance? Has that remained consistent, or is this just another form you've chosen as a default?

SCP-7955: I'm… reasonably sure this is my original shape. I think. I mean, I've taken on a huge number of forms in the last month: fish and birds, mostly, but I also tried out a few human disguises and even the shape of a car - not my finest hour, that. But this is the one form I had before I started shapeshifting, about three to four weeks ago.

Dr Magdaleno: Can you recall what was happening during the preceding period of time?

SCP-7955: I remember living in an underground church, deep beneath a mountain, a home for the… the Disciples of Cerridwen the Angel. Communal barracks for the rank and file. Private apartments for the Elders of the church.

Dr Magdaleno: Do you remember how long you were there for?

SCP-7955: Fifteen years… I think. I recall I'd been living there ever since I sold my house to pay my tithes. Then… (pauses for thought) I'm sorry, doctor, it's sometimes hard to find the words. They slip through my fingers the moment I grasp them.

Dr Magdaleno: It's alright, 7955, take your time.

SCP-7955: Thank you. (pause) I remember there were other shapeshifters created by the Disciples. "The Inheritors of the Angel's blessing", we called them. I only saw them once when I first joined the cult, but once was enough.

Dr Magdaleno: And what did these Inheritors do in the cult?

SCP-7955: They were the miracles that kept people donating their salaries to the Elders. They told us that if we sacrificed everything of ourselves, we would become worthy of the Rite of the Shining Brow and be Inheritors just like them: immortal, innocent, and free. But after the first time I saw them, they stopped appearing.

Dr Magdaleno: Why was that?

SCP-7955: The Elders claimed that the Rite of the Shining Brow no longer worked because the Angel Cerridwen was punishing us for our weakness. And that was just the way it was from then on: no big rewards, no miracles, just hard labour and tithes and endless sermons.

Dr Magdaleno: But that would make you the first member of the Disciples to have a successful Rite in fifteen years. What changed? Why did it work for you?

SCP-7955: …I… I don't remember. I'm not even sure if I took the Rite. But I remember straying into a part of the church that the Elders had declared off-limits years ago and finding this… this… this underground lake the size of a stadium.

Dr Magdaleno: Do you believe that was where this Rite was traditionally performed?

SCP-7955: Maybe. There were all these weird angular symbols cut into the walls, so there had to be something ritual about it. I don't remember why, but I found myself plunged into the lake itself, sinking deeper and deeper, feeling the water forcing its way up my nose and down my throat. But I didn't drown - I couldn't drown. And the weirdest thing was, I wasn't afraid: I was at peace, even as I sank… it was… I… (gasps, clutching head) oh god, not again…

Dr Magdaleno: We can stop now, if you need to take a break.

SCP-7955: Hound. Otter. Hawk. Hen. Death. (transforms accordingly with every word, finally assuming the form of a skeleton before returning to normal)

Dr Magdaleno: I beg your pardon?

SCP-7955: Just something to help keep my thoughts in order. Please, let's continue. If I stop now, I might forget more while I'm recovering. I don't want to be useless to you.

Dr Magdaleno: I think you've told me more than enough for today. Besides, maybe there's another way we can help each other in the meantime…

<End Log>

Dr Magdaleno's Log 20/03/2020

Shortly after it recovered, I decided to provide SCP-7955 with crayons and paper so it could record any information that might be lost to advancing dementia between interviews. 7955 appeared grateful, but somewhat vacant, as if not sure how to respond. Troubling, given that inflexibility and loss of interest in new activities are both possible symptoms of dementia.

After an hour of inactivity, SCP-7955 produced at least twenty pages of material, even growing tentacles to work on multiple papers at the same time. It won't show any of the material to me, though, and starts losing eye-contact whenever I try to persuade it to share some of the notes. Not sure if that's due to dementia, or if it's just a bit of an introvert.

- Close

+ Early-Stage Records

- Close

Follow-Up Interview

<Begin Log, AM, 25/03/2020>

SCP-7955: Hound. Otter. Hawk. Hen. Death.

Dr Magdaleno: How did you learn you had this… shapeshifting-induced dementia?

SCP-7955: (checks notes) I'd seen it before in the Inheritors, but the Elders told us it was just "divine innocence" at work. The Rite had made them like Adam and Eve, they claimed - blissful and childlike. None of us knew they were losing their minds.

Dr Magdaleno: Why were they "blissful," though? No offense, but you don't exactly fit the description.

SCP-7955: It's a side-effect of shapeshifting. At first, every transformation triggers this wave of raw, unadulterated pleasure that just… lights up your brain.4 For the first week or two, it's beyond euphoric: if you can't keep yourself focussed, it's easy to lose yourself in it and run wild… which might explain how I ended up in bloody Caithness, come to think of it. The bliss eventually fades, but it never really goes away. I still get warm and fuzzy feelings when I shapeshift.

Dr Magdaleno: I can see how that would hide the dementia, but why didn't people notice that something was wrong once the euphoria wore off?

SCP-7955: Simple: the Elders locked the Inheritors away once the symptoms of dementia became obvious and told everyone they'd left to enjoy the world. (Several keyholes appear across his skin, then vanish) I think there was something else that happened after they died, but I can't remember what.

Dr Magdaleno: But if all this was hidden from the rank and file, how did you find out about it?

SCP-7955: (hesitates) Someone told me… something about soup… (shudders)

Dr Magdaleno: Soup?

SCP-7955: (ten-second pause) What's your name?

Dr Magdaleno: Please don't change the subject.

SCP-7955: I'm just asking… I mean, if you've been officially assigned to contain and study me, I might as well know your full name.

Dr Magdaleno: If you’d taken a good look at my ID card, you'd already know that it's "Marcus." Also, please don't take this the wrong way, but if you want me to call you by your name, "Brother Lebbaeus" is a bit of a mouthful.

SCP-7955: "Brother Lebbaeus" was just my name among the Disciples. You see, we were all given new names, most of them from saints - John, Mary, Paul, Theresa, Matthias…5

Dr Magdaleno: And you don't remember your original name, do you?

SCP-7955: (sheepishly) No. But maybe you can think of something else.

Dr Magdaleno: How about "Jim"?

SCP-7955: (smiles shyly) Jim it is, then.

<End Log>

Dr Magdaleno's Log 25/03/2020

So stupid of me. I knew it was a feint to get me to veer off-topic, and I took the bait anyway. Why? Was it because I was feeling sorry for it? Was it because I realized that talking about this "soup" upset it, or because I thought it couldn't remember it entirely? I just know the rest of the research team are going to get cheeky about it - especially Aristaios, assuming he's not jockeying for a crack at an interview.

Well, SCP-7955 is definitely declining, that's for sure. It might have only needed to check its notes once, but that's bad enough: yesterday, it had the facts in his head, and now it needs to brief himself to remember its own past - what little it has left. Hopefully, the most traumatic of the recollections are over, and Jim won’t put himself under any more stress in these interviews.

I just read back over this latest entry and realized I called SCP-7955 "Jim." I really need to cut down on these all-nighters…

Preliminary Recording

AUDIO LOG TRANSCRIPT

DATE: 01/04/2020

NOTE: First recording upon activation of audio hardware. At the start of this recording, Dr Magdaleno has just given SCP-7955 a number of paperback novels.

[BEGIN LOG]

SCP-7955: Thanks so much for this, Marcus. I'm pretty sure I haven't read anything decent in the last fifteen years - this is a more-than-welcome relief.

Dr Magdaleno: Anything "decent?"

SCP-7955: Well, the church had a library, but it was nothing but Christian apocrypha and books on Celtic mythology, and then there were the treatises on the virtue of transformation, and the elders had their own collections of occult- (takes a deep breath) I'm sorry, I tend to ramble a bit when I'm nervous. It's all this new recording stuff, you see, it makes me feel like I'm talking to an answering machine - I never know what to say…

Dr Magdaleno: It's okay, believe me. Besides, you don't need to worry about needing to say anything meaningful: it's just a precaution in case you happen to remember anything important-

SCP-7955: -while I'm talking to myself. I suppose I should be grateful I haven't been reduced to jotting down notes on my arms and legs.

Dr Magdaleno: Did any of the Inheritors try that when you saw them, or were they all too euphoric to even think of trying to keep any kind of record?

SCP-7955: We've talked about this already, remember? They didn't even notice that they were forgetting. Only Teacher's advice would have saved their memories, and she couldn't be heard by anyone until… (hesitates) …hang on, have I told you about that already, or was that just my imagination?

Dr Magdaleno: No, we haven't talked about that yet.

SCP-7955: Er… I'll leave that until our next interview, then - don't want to run out of things to talk about (chuckles nervously). Uh, anyway, thanks again for the books. I hope they didn't cost too much.

Dr Magdaleno: Most of these are from home.

Five second pause.

SCP-7955: I, er… I mean, um… I… I really didn't picture you as a Danielle Steel fan.

[END LOG]

Incident Report 10/04/2020: At 18:30 PM, the lights in SCP-7955's cell briefly malfunctioned, leaving both its quarters and the observation chamber in complete darkness for thirty seconds. During this period, SCP-7955 was heard loudly screaming the word "soup", before abruptly falling silent. When the lights were reactivated, SCP-7955 was missing.

SCP-7955 was eventually found hiding beside its chair in the form of a large ottoman with an upholstery similar to human skin (its clothes hidden under the ottoman). Despite the best efforts of Dr Magdaleno and Research Assistant Teo to cajole SCP-7955, it remained disguised for several minutes, and could be heard muttering "don't want to end up like Teacher, don't want to end up like the others, they might know how to make the runes."

After twenty-five minutes, SCP-7955 reverted to human form and apologized for the unnecessary deception, admitting that it had "gotten confused" during the blackout and become convinced that the Disciples were trying to recapture it.

Interview Log 8

Foreword: SCP-7955 appears agitated and uncomfortable.

<Begin Log, 09:00 AM, 20/04/2020>

SCP-7955: Who do you think I was?

Dr Magdaleno: I… excuse me?

SCP-7955: We've known each other for a little while, now, and you're here to analyze me, so you must have some idea what I must have been. My personality hasn't changed that much since then… I mean, I don't think it has… so who do you think I was before I joined the cult?

Dr Magdaleno: …Jim - 7955 - I've got a whole bunch of questions here for y-

SCP-7955: Oh, come on, Marcus, we've been talking about the same thing for nearly three days in a row. By now, I'm pretty sure we've established that the Disciples had nothing to do with the Serpent's Hand or the Insurgency or the-the-the Church of Gear-Powered Mechanical Buggery or whatever the hell it was, so is it really going to matter if we don't talk about… what were we going to do today? Oh, right - Sarkicism.

Dr Magdaleno: We talked about that yesterday, Jim.

SCP-7955: …Oh. But still, who's it going to hurt if we talk about something else for a change? So, based on what you've seen of my personality so far, who do you think I would have been?

Dr Magdaleno: Well… (hesitates) you could have been an artist I suppose, given your drawings these last few days. You're definitely suited for quieter lines of work. What do you think?

SCP-7955: I remember my house before I sold it: there were shelves overflowing with plays - Shakespeare, Oscar Wilde, George Bernard Shaw, Arthur Miller, Tony Kushner… (his face shifts to mimic the listed playwrights) And also books on acting technique. Do you suppose I was an actor?

Dr Magdaleno: I don't think it would have fitted your personality. Maybe you were a drama student, though.

SCP-7955: I could easily imagine myself as a bureaucrat, from the way I follow orders. For all we know, I could have been working right here at this Foundation of yours.

Dr Magdaleno: I very much doubt that. Believe me, if one of our own had vanished off to an underground church for fifteen years, we'd know.

<End Log>

Dr Magdaleno's Log 31/04/2020

Decided to test Jim's cognitive capacity with a game of chess this afternoon. I had a board on my side of the glass, while he shaped his right hand into a board of his own, complete with pieces. Of course, all his pieces looked a little bit on the biopunk side, and it took him a while to realize that he'd given me an extra bishop by mistake, but other than that, Jim did quite well - even if he lost in the end. Probably the trickiest victory I've ever achieved in chess.

Teo and Aristaios were giving me some funny looks as I tidied up the board. They didn't say anything, but I could tell they were wondering if I was getting too close to Jim.

Bit of an overaction, I thought. We're not friends, or anything like that. I'm obliged to care for the subject and encourage it to trust me, but only as far as furthering our research goes. And yes, giving him books and playing chess with him might be considered above and beyond the call of duty, but it's nothing serious, certainly nothing approaching friendship. Jim's just another anomalous entity, and I'm just researching him. We're not friends.

Definitely not friends.

AUDIO LOG TRANSCRIPT

DATE: 03/05/2020

NOTE: Conversation between SCP-7955 and Dr Magdaleno. At this time, a second pair of arms have sprouted from SCP-7955's torso and are now writing on a notepad in front of it.

[BEGIN LOG]

Dr Magdaleno: …and then Vittorio's completely soaked in it, from the new haircut all the way to those pricey new shoes. "Those are pheromones for her kind, man," Yusuf tells him. "You'll have to stay away from her cell from now on, or else not even those dogs will stop her. She'll be after you like the bad guy in Species: she'll jump your bones, then gut you like a fish and eat your heart while you're still inside her!" Now, Vittorio knows fox musk when he smells it, so he's not fooled one little bit. He just says, "Yusuf, buddy, if my girlfriend finds out about this, she'll do the exact same thing to you, minus the sex!"

SCP-7955: Did he actually get assigned, though?

Dr Magdaleno: Of course not - that was just a rumour. Yusuf had never been assigned to her either: nobody in their right mind actually jokes about that once they've seen her in action. And best of all, Vittorio found out about it - and he got back at Yusuf next month by filling his car with live skunks!

SCP-7955: (laughs) Oh god! I wish I had that kind of flair. I mean, I know I'm not that kind of shapeshifter, but I just wish I could have pulled a prank or two while I was out in the wild - just to see if I had any skill in it. Just to be a little bit rebellious for a change.

Dr Magdaleno: …speaking of which, how would you use your powers if you were free and didn't have to put up with this dementia? What would you do for a living if you had the choice?

SCP-7955: Oceanographer, maybe? Half my time escaping from the cult was spent swimming up the coast, so I know I'm good at it.

Dr Magdaleno: Or a secret agent.

SCP-7955: Or a courier: I've been enough birds to know that I could do better than any carrier pigeon.

Dr Magdaleno: What about nature photographer? Or paparazzo?

SCP-7955: Maybe a musician. I could become the ultimate one-man-band.

Dr Magdaleno: Or you could join the police: you'd be the perfect undercover cop.

SCP-7955: Uh-uh. There's only one shapeshifting detective, and that's Rene Auberjonois.

Dr Magdaleno: (chuckles) Well, that's one thing about your past that we can be certain of - you're a Star Trek fan!

SCP-7955: (laughs for nearly fifteen seconds, then hesitates) Wait… how did we end up in this conversation again?

Dr Magdaleno: (pauses, coughs uncomfortably)

SCP-7955: (through gritted teeth)…Hound. Otter. Hawk. Hen. Death…

Dr Magdaleno: … could I just… check your notes for a second? Uh… you've written right off the line, here. Could you tell me what this is? I can't make sense of the handwriting. And this right here, I'm pretty sure that's not actually a word, Jim. Jim? Jim, can you hear me?

[END LOG]

Dr Magdaleno's Log 03/05/2020

Irritability, losing his way in conversation, difficulty with previously routine tasks, linguistic decay… and worse still, memory loss proving more aggressive than other cases on record: normally, dementia attacks the most recent memories first and leaves the distant past until later, but this is attacking his short term and long term memory simultaneously.

I shouldn't be finding this so upsetting. I'm not supposed to get attached, much less worry about friendship, but… I guess that's the danger of having a humanoid subject. You can't help but sympathize, even when you shouldn't.

I'd have thought I'd end up with an official reprimand for getting too friendly and losing clinical distance - lord knows Aristaios and Teo have been worrying about it - but I haven't heard a single complaint out of anyone supervising this study. Odd, that.

Instead, orders from on high are insisting that I continue interviewing him: they want more information on the cult, on the shapeshifting, on what gave Jim his polymorphic traits… but I honestly don't know if he has much more to give us.

And as for whoever/whatever made him into a shapeshifter, I can't imagine anyone who could be pointlessly cruel enough to lumber someone with powers that literally destroy your brain the more useful they become. Frankly, it sounds like a sick joke. By the sounds of things, Elders of the Disciples have the resources and the deficit of moral fibre to make it possible, but Jim insists that this Rite of the Shining Brow doesn't work for them anymore. So, if not the Elders, then who?

- Close

+ Middle-Stage Records

- Close

Incident Report, 15/05/2020: At 11:00 PM, SCP-7955 called for the attention of the observing staff in a state of extreme distress, claiming that its most recent notes had been stolen. Dr Magdaleno had been called away to a meeting with the Site Director, leaving Research Assistant Teo to explain that SCP-7955 had given its notes to the Magdaleno the previous evening. SCP-7955 then became angry and accused Teo of stealing the notes, suggesting she had destroyed them as part of a conspiracy to worsen its dementia.

During this confrontation, SCP-7955 transformed into a silverback gorilla and attempted to punch through the shatterproof glass observation window and did not stop until Dr Magdaleno arrived and was able to placate SCP-7955 by producing the missing notes.

SCP-7955 then calmed down, apologized to Research Assistant Teo, got dressed, and retired to bed. Recommending that recordings of SCP-7955's pertinent statements are kept within reach of staff in future.

Interview Log 12

Foreword: SCP-7955 is extremely agitated at the start of the interview, exhibiting compulsive twitching, shivering, and a slight slur to its speech. The notes on the pad in front of it are barely coherent. Remarks prior to interview indicate an oncoming headache.

<Begin Log, 15:00 PM, 15/05/2020>

SCP-7955: Amanda knows I didn't mean what I said, right? I just got… confused. I know that's happening more often these days, but I really didn't mean to lose it this badly.

Dr Magdaleno: She knows, Jim.

SCP-7955: Then why isn't she here? She's asked to be reassigned, hasn't she? I frightened her and now she's left us and-

Dr Magdaleno: It's just her day off, that's all: she's been planning this for the last couple of weeks.

SCP-7955: And she told me before, didn't she? Oh god, I'm just getting worse and worse.

Dr Magdaleno: All I can suggest is not to think about it. Think about the memories you can't be sure of now - anything if you think it can help us.

SCP-7955: (frantically reviews newest notes) I remember something, but only in a dream I had last night. I can't be sure if any of it was real or not-

Dr Magdaleno: It's okay, Jim, it could still be helpful. Tell me what happened.

SCP-7955: I dreamed - or remembered… wandering in the tunnels under the church one day, tired and downhearted about everything. And then I heard a voice. It… it called to me, spoke to me.

Dr Magdaleno: Think about the source of the voice. Who was speaking to you?

SCP-7955: (struggling to concentrate) She didn't have a name. I called her "Teacher," because she told me things the Disciples didn't want me to know. Like… like… (unintelligible)

Dr Magdaleno: It's alright, Jim, take your time.

SCP-7955: (inhaling deeply) The voice… my Teacher… the men who would become the first Disciples found her eighty years ago, sleeping in the hollows below the roots of the mountain. She was the source of their power, before the scars faded. The source of the Rite and the soup. The rock on which the Elders built their church - but they built on water.

Dr Magdaleno: Water? Wait a minute… stop me if I'm reading too much into this, but are you talking about the underground lake you fell into? The lake itself was alive?

SCP-7955: She wasn't a lake, Marcus, not when the Elders found her. She didn't have a shape at first. It was… Hound. Otter. Hawk. Hen. Death. (checks notes) The symbols on the walls. Binding runes. They were holding her in a single form, one that could serve their purposes.

Dr Magdaleno: Wait, wait, wait, wait… are you telling me that the thing that turned you into a shapeshifter was another shapeshifter?

SCP-7955: One of the Children of Proteus, they called her. (cringes in pain)

Dr Magdaleno: One of them? You mean this wasn't a unique entity? There are more?

SCP-7955: (screaming) I don't know, Marcus, it was a fucking dream! For all I know, it was just some bullshit my decomposing brain cooked up to explain what happened to me or… or… (twitches violently)

Dr Magdaleno: Jim? JIM?

SCP-7955: I… h-help me… (collapses, body warping in all directions)

<End Log>

Closing Statement: SCP-7955 was found to have suffered a mild seizure. Even after recovering, it remained unresponsive for some time, and visibly struggled to recognize facility personnel.

Incident Report 02/06/2020: Following a shift change at 11 AM, SCP-7955 was believed to be taking a shower and had left several books at the cell door to be returned.

Upon entering the cell to retrieve them, Research Assistant Teo noticed that though SCP-7955 had been borrowing three books at the time, there was an unregistered fourth book on the pile awaiting return. On closer examination, this book did not appear to possess real pages and was essentially a solid block of cardboard, while the author's name had been rendered as "Daniel Steal" (sic).

Research Assistant Teo left the cell immediately, ordering that the guards on duty keep their weapons trained the door while she exited. SCP-7955 made no move to escape but was observed "quivering in fear." Research Assistant Teo was eventually able to persuade it to resume human form, but it gave no explanation for the incident, remaining silent for the rest of the day.

Dr Magdaleno's Log 04/06/2020:

Jim's verbal skills are degrading more noticeably than ever. He spent almost half an hour trying to explain something to me, but between the ongoing collapse of his memory and his declining vocabulary outside of lucid moments, I could barely make any sense of it: the only coherent words he used were "immortal" and "soup."

I guess he must have been aware enough to realize this, so instead, he drew something for me: a church under a mountain, populated by dozens of tiny figures with frowning faces. As far as I could tell from the deteriorated art style, most of them were depicted in various states of misery: handing over money, being beaten with sticks, locked away in tiny cells, bowing before tall figures stirring a massive cauldron, and a few other acts I couldn't make sense of (then again, given the positions, I'm not sure I want to). Under this drawing, he'd written "YOU HAVE TO HELP THEM."

He seemed quite happy with himself, apparently because he expected the Foundation to help "them" - presumably the rest of the cultists back at the church. I didn't have the heart to tell him that we still don't know where the church is.

Incident Report 05/06/2020: SCP-7955 escaped from its cell at 05:00 AM this morning by transforming into a playing card and sliding under the door. The escape was immediately noticed by staff and the alarm sounded. SCP-7955 attempted to avoid being recognized by transforming into Research Assistant Teo.

However, SCP-7955 was still unable to mimic clothing, so "Teo" appeared to be encased in a glossy white carapace reminiscent of a jewel beetle's exoskeleton (presumably, SCP-7955's best attempt at replicating a lab coat) and was immediately detected by the guards.

SCP-7955 then became a sparrow and managed to evade security for approximately two minutes. Unable to find an exit, it tried to fight its way through a squad of guards in various forms, only to be knocked to the floor with a riot shield and restrained with a social distancing clamp. In a "blind panic," SCP-7955 began transitioning rapidly between various object, animal, and human forms in a disorganized attempt to escape, only to exhaust itself within twenty seconds and collapse.

As it was returned to its cell, SCP-7955 begged the guards to "put me in the sweatbox if you want, but please don't leave me alone with the Elders."

Dr Magdaleno's Log 09/06/2020

Jim's back to calling himself "Brother Lebbaeus" most of the time. He only calls me by my name every other day at the very most. All other times, I'm just "doctor." That shouldn't upset me, but somehow it does.

He seems angrier than ever, too, always giving us surly looks, always suspicious of us. When he's lucid, he's nothing but apologetic, but I can tell he barely remembers what he's supposed to be apologizing for: he's just upset with himself… and scared. And frankly, I'm feeling much the same way.

This is all wrong. I shouldn't be friends with him. I shouldn't even be considering the possibility, but it's too late. Now we both have to suffer for it.

Incident Report 12/06/2020: During a routine medical checkup, SCP-7955 became extremely upset by the blood test, apparently convinced that it had been recaptured by the Disciples of Cerridwen and was being sedated against its will6. It then punched Dr Bromley in the stomach, tore the cover off the nearest air vent, transformed into a rat, and escaped into the ventilation ducts.

After once again becoming lost, SCP-7955 emerged in a nearby corridor and reverted to human form. Upon seeing a large number of guards approaching, it immediately curled itself into the fetal position, layered its body with a tortoise-like shell, and braced itself as if for impact. Security guards simply picked up SCP-7955 and carried it back to its cell.

During this, SCP-7955 tried to fight its way out in the form of a mass of tendrils, and persisted until two of the guards were able to fasten a catch pole around its neck, prompting it to rapidly shapeshift itself into exhaustion once again.

Security guards report that while being returned to its cell, SCP-7955 was heard muttering, "Binding runes are like scars, but scars fade. Why do you think the Rite failed?"

Dr Magdaleno's Log 15/06/2020

Lucid moment today. I broke protocol - again - and played chess with Jim for the second time. He wasn't up to making his own board this time, so I just had the board set up on my side of the glass while Jim looked in on it, so at least I didn't do anything too stupid.

I was trying to cheer him up, just to take his mind off his condition, but in the end, Jim had to cheer me up.

The cognitive problems are creeping into his lucid moments: Jim understands chess and he remembers me, but he couldn't recall which side he was playing as, and he couldn't predict even the simplest manoeuvres - to the point he seemed surprised when my first pawn captured his after a full turn's notice.

I was so miserable, even Jim noticed. Next thing I knew, he'd started transforming into the most ridiculous shapes he could think of, just to get a laugh out of me - inflating his nose to the size of a basketball, giving himself penguin flippers instead of hands, turning his lower body into a wobbly stack of books…

It was funny, sure, but it wasn't him. His personality's changed so much: he's not the quiet, polite introvert we took in when he arrived. He's losing inhibitions along with the gauge on his mood, and it's only going to get worse. All I can ask is this: when is this going to end? How is it going to end?

Am I actually going to have to watch him die?

Incident Report 20/06/2020: At 7:00 AM, SCP-7955 began shapeshifting in its sleep, repeatedly muttering the words "Teacher" and "Soup" as it did so. Despite the apparent volatility of this sleep state, SCP-7955 could not be roused by any of the observing research personnel.

After forty-five minutes of uninterrupted distress, Dr Magdaleno became concerned and called for medical attention. Dr Bromley was summoned and asked to examine SCP-7955 for any recognizable signs of illness. In clear violation of safety protocols, Dr Magdaleno insisted that he and Bromley conduct the examination at close range without first restraining the patient.

During this examination, SCP-7955 awoke, failed to recognize its carers, and panicked. In the ensuing confrontation, SCP-7955 backed itself into a corner of the cell, assuming several large shapes in rapid succession (including a grizzly bear, a seven-foot-tall tarantula, and a combine harvester). As it made no attempt to actually attack Drs Magdaleno and Bromley in any of these forms, this was likely an intimidation display.

A security team was summoned to the cell, and though none of them were able to get close enough to attack SCP-7955 directly due to its "flailing hands, claws, tentacles, and whatever else", once it was in a form small enough to be effectively targeted, they were able to fire a net gun and successfully pin SCP-7955 to the ground until it had once again exhausted itself into submission.

- Close

+ Late-Stage Records

- Close

AUDIO LOG TRANSCRIPT

DATE: 18/06/2020

NOTE: Autocommunication recorded at midnight, while SCP-7955 was pretending to be asleep.

[BEGIN LOG]

SCP-7955: Hound. Otter. Hawk. Hen. Death. Don't recognize it. Any of it. They've got me again. Any minute now, the first of those old bastards will appear from behind the corner and tell me how disappointed they are, and then… another pot of soup to prolong the Elders even further.

Muffled sound of footsteps from outside the cell. SCP-7955 whimpers.

SCP-7955: What if they've remembered how to bind the Children? Teacher said that their best thaumaturges took it to the grave or the road. What if she was wrong? If they remember, they'll bind me, then they'll wait until I'm soup and drink me like the other Inheritors. (low, keening whine) No, no, no, no… Doesn't matter. Need to focus. Need shapes. Need to focus on shapes. Hound. Otter. Hawk. Hen. Death.

A "hissing" sound can be heard, identified by staff as the sound of SCP-7955 shapeshifting. Quantity of sounds indicates multiple transformations in rapid succession, SCP-7955's voice changing to match each new form

SCP-7955: No, no, no, no. Yes? No. Maybe. Can't focus. Can't find the words. My head… cracking open… or is it just my imagination? (growls) One good turn deserves another. We agreed on that. I did as much as I could. Chip and chisel, chip and chisel. And now Marcus knows where the others are and how to help them. Surely that's enough… surely, surely, surely not!

Sounds of bedsheets being flung aside and torn.

SCP-7955: (pained whimper) Oh god, I want to go home. Don't know where home is. No. Home's not home. Full of people who know you're always wrong, always abnormal, always sinful. "You don't feel that way, dear, you're just confused. Remember what the bishop told you: it's just a phase, you'll grow out of it. There, there, you won't have to think about that boy ever again."

Muffled sounds of movement, followed by the sound of something heavy impacting the floor

SCP-7955: (in a child's voice) Teacher… what did you say to me before I was baptized? I can't remember. You said something about Gwion and Taliesin. Did you say that, or did I just dream it? Was I big or little when I met you? Did I meet you at all? (sobs) Mummy… I'm scared…

SCP-7955 can be heard crying for the next seventy seconds before falling silent.

NOTE: SCP-7955 was found hiding under its bed the following morning. It had not left its hiding place even to make use of the toilet and had soiled itself several times as a result. Due to a combination of paranoia and the general decay of its physical coordination, it needed to be helped into the shower cubicle.

[END LOG]

Dr Magdaleno's Log 25/06/2020

He's barely even eating now. On the rare occasions when he can remember to eat outside of a lucid moment, he thinks we've poisoned his food. Amanda keeps having to eat some of it herself just to prove that it's safe. Worse still, he's starting to lose manual coordination, so Amanda's had to essentially spoon-feed him.

Most of the time, he's too disoriented to care about this, but after spending breakfast and lunch almost completely disengaged from reality, he had another lucid moment at dinner this evening. It took about a minute of fruitlessly trying to reach for his knife and fork before he realized that spoon-feeding was essential. He spent the rest of the meal in silent tears.

Amanda later told me that it was "hard to watch," and I can't blame her: she probably thought her work with the Foundation would be a whirlwind of discovery and danger, not this.

Incident Report 01/07/2020: After a supervised test of its abilities outside of its cell at 2:30 PM, SCP-7955 became accidentally separated from Research Assistant Teo during an unrelated containment breach (later proven to be a false alarm). After on-site security was re-established, SCP-7955's clothes were found intact some distance away, indicating that it had either shrunk out of them or removed them of its own accord.

Following a twenty-minute search of the complex, SCP-7955 was found wandering alone through the corridors, in human form and completely naked, repeatedly muttering "hound, otter, hawk, hen, death". When approached by Dr Magdaleno and Research Assistant Teo, SCP-7955 was heard to say, "she can tell me who I was and why I changed, but I can't find her again."

SCP-7955 was then given a blanket and led back to its cell without any further incident.

AUDIO LOG

DATE: 23/07/2020, 13:44 AM

NOTE: Transcript of conversation between Dr Bromley and Dr Magdaleno concerning SCP-7955's health. In the background, SCP-7955 is sitting unresponsive in its chair, staring vacantly at its notes and seemingly oblivious to everything around it. On occasion, it shudders as if in pain and transforms.

[BEGIN LOG]

Dr Magdaleno: Can't we do anything for him? I'm pretty sure those transformations aren't voluntary anymore.

Dr Bromley: Well, we've made it as comfortable as possible, but that's all we can do. We're not dealing with any ordinary form of dementia: this isn't something we can delay with medication.

Dr Magdaleno: I know, I know. I just wish there was something else we could do for the poor guy. I mean… it just feels like such a waste.

Dr Bromley: I imagine it would, considering all you've been through together.

Dr Magdaleno: What's that supposed to mean?

Dr Bromley: Come on, Marcus, you don't need to pretend you're not close to 7955. I don't place any judgements on this kind of thing - not with the subject in this condition.

Dr Magdaleno: (sighs) God almighty, is it really that obvious?

Dr Bromley: Given that you almost got me killed by carrying out an in-person checkup in clear violation of protocol, I'd say it's your worst-kept secret yet. Like I said, I don't judge. Speaking as a doctor, I'd recommend not getting this emotionally close to a terminal patient, but that's not what's worrying me, though. Do you remember what it said in the last interview? The last coherent interview, I mean.

Dr Magdaleno: Lydia, I only told you about that because I wanted to know about the possibility of delusional recollection. He said it could have been a dream, and he's suffering from dementia anyway-

Dr Bromley: But even so, there's every chance it could have been a real memory. Why are you so doubtful?

Dr Magdaleno: I know it seems silly after everything I've seen at the Foundation, but to be brutally honest, Jim's testimony and notes don't make much sense even by our standards. For one thing, if these Children of Proteus can convert people into new shapeshifters - and all the converts end up with dementia - how could they have possibly kept themselves secret? Why is this the first time we've heard of them?

Dr Bromley: I admit, 7955 isn't good at keeping itself hidden. But maybe they don't all convert people, and this "Teacher" is an outlier of the species. Perhaps the rest have been living and breeding in secret the natural way ever since they came to be.

Dr Magdaleno: And that's another thing: why the secrecy? Why the isolation? The shapeshifters we've contained are usually one-of-a-kind, or part of a dying breed, or horribly weakened in some way… so if the Children of Proteus really are still as powerful as advertised and still viable as a species, why are they hiding? Why are they isolated, even from each other?

SCP-7955: Fear.

Dr Magdaleno: Jesus Christ, Jim, what the fuck-

Dr Bromley: Shhh! Look at its eyes: it's halfway lucid again.

SCP-7955: Why do you think these shapeshifters are called the Children of Proteus - and not the Children of Zeus or Loki or the Morrigan? Because they aren't lustful, mischievous, or warmongering. They are like Proteus: they are neutral. They are solitary. They are afraid.

Dr Magdaleno: Of what? Of humans?

SCP-7955: Of everything.

Dr Magdaleno: What's that supposed to mean?

SCP-7955: …how do you work at the Foundation and not realize what kind of world you live in, Marcus? The cosmic nightmares, the malignant godlings, the insane societies at war, the hordes of monsters beyond counting, the doomsdays upon doomsdays… there's so much that can't be stopped, so many things that could end everything, even in the better worlds that some have envisioned-

Dr Magdaleno: Hang on, "better worlds"? What are you talking about, Jim?

SCP-7955: The Children must stay hidden! My Teacher wanted to stay hidden, but the Disciples caught her sleeping, made her into a convertor with their binding runes. They didn't care that the binding was flawed, would make blank slates of the Inheritors, because all they wanted was soup… the soup, the immortal soup… (unintelligible)

Dr Bromley: Goddammit, we're losing him again.

SCP-7955: Now the scars have faded… now the Inheritors are all rejected by the process, useless to the Elders. (high-pitched laughter) No soup can be made! The Rite poisons the Inheritors, the transformations made fatal! Their eyes eat the body and the mind eats the eyes and all dissolves into meaningless meat… (unintelligible)

[END LOG]

Dr Magdaleno's Log 18/08/2020

Jim is almost constantly shapeshifting now. As far as I can tell, he doesn't have the power to stop anymore: he hasn't reverted to human form in more than seventy-two hours, and every single minute of the last three days has been spent in an endless state of transformation, one form endlessly flowing into the next - even when he's asleep.

In fact, he's shapeshifting so much that we've stopped bothering to dress him because he's always bursting out of his clothes or shrinking out of them. Feeding him now requires us to aim a spoon into one of the dozens of mouths he sprouts on a regular basis and hope that he has enough of a working stomach to get at least some nutrition out of it.

As far as I can tell, he no longer comprehends speech, writing, or even simple gestures. He can barely speak: his best attempts at communication consist of an unending stream of word salad - random phrases borrowed from half-remembered conversations in dozens of different voices. He can't even recite his usual hound-otter-hawk mantra anymore, and with good reason.

He can remember nothing apart from his library of shapes. Everyone is a stranger to him, he doesn't recognize the photographs we took of his default form, and every single memory test we've given him is flunked from beginning to end. Same goes for tests of logic and basic cognition: he can't even navigate the simplest of mazes. When he's capable of walking, he's aimlessly circling the room, feeling his way across the walls like he's trying to read Braile without knowing what it means.

Even his lucid moments don't do much for him anymore: all he can do is ask "Who am I? Who was I?" in an endless loop until he slips back into cognitive oblivion.

I don't know if I can keep doing this. Every day Jim gets worse and every day I feel worse. Why hasn't the Site Director reprimanded me for loss of objectivity? Why haven't the O5s reassigned me yet? They should know I've gotten too close, that I'm emotionally compromised. They know I've discussed other SCPs with Jim in clear violation of the rules. They know I've made stupid mistakes that could have gotten people killed.

So why can't they take the decision out of my hands and spare me the guilt of requesting a transfer - and abandoning my friend? Why can't they just send me away?

- Close

+ Neutralization

- Close

AUDIO LOG

DATE: 13/10/2020, 03:00 AM

NOTE: For several hours prior to this recording, audio equipment in SCP-7955's cell registers several unknown sounds. Some have been identified as the signature hiss of SCP-7955 shapeshifting and the sounds of crayon on paper, but most remain undetermined.

[BEGIN LOG]

Dr Magdaleno: Amanda, I've been asleep for a grand total of two hours. Short of a XK-class scenario, what could possibly be so important you needed to wake me up at this godawful hour of the night?

Research Assistant Teo: Just get in there, dammit, we don't know how much longer this will last!

Dr Magdaleno: How much longer what will la- Jim!

SCP-7955: Morning, Marcus. Good to see you again.

Dr Magdaleno: I… you're… I…

SCP-7955: Please sit down, Marcus, you look like you're going to have an aneurysm.

Dr Magdaleno: But… but… this can't be just a moment of lucidity: you're upright and talking in complete sentences and able to remember us and…

SCP-7955: Terminal lucidity.7 I saw it happen with the Inheritors, though I didn't recognize it at the time. Now I suppose it's my turn.

Dr Magdaleno: You're dying? But of what? Dr Bromley says you're perfectly healthy as far as any of us can tell.

SCP-7955: Physically, yes. Mentally… it's more like substitution than health.

Dr Magdaleno: But what… oh. You're referring to the mutations in your brain tissue. You're no longer just deteriorating, are you? You're almost fully converted.

SCP-7955: It's like antique software on a new computer. You can try to run the old, old O/S for a while, maybe even force the odd spark of functionality out of it, but unless you know how to accommodate the old within the new, you've got to accept the upgrade sooner or later. And right now, my mind is nothing but obsolete software ready to be deleted.

Dr Magdaleno: (quietly) Brain death, then. So… what happens when there's no more brain activity to maintain basic control of your ability to shapeshift? Will it be coma or…

SCP-7955: There's a reason why I asked Amanda to bring me this fish tank. I'm not sure if I'm slated for real death or just death-of-the-self, but the end results are the same: I'm not going to be talking to anyone ever again, Marcus. I'll just be… protean matter gone inert.

Dr Magdaleno: So it's coma or death, then. Permanent coma, so it'll mean death eventually anyway.

SCP-7955: Well, maybe so… but us shapeshifters live for a very, very long time. My Teacher under the mountain was already centuries-old when Ur was built, and from what she told me, she's not even the oldest one alive. So, if this is just a permanent coma, I won't die for a good long while yet. In fact, we can still have a chat every now and again, if you like. It's… just going to be a bit quiet on my end from now on.

Dr Magdaleno: (voice cracking) How the hell can you joke about this?! How can you be so calm when you're about to… to… (pauses for breath)

SCP-7955: …sorry. I've never been good when it comes to comedy, but… I thought I might try to cheer you up.

Dr Magdaleno: Some things you can't even joke about, Jim.

SCP-7955: I know. So… I guess this is goodbye.

Ten-second pause.

Dr Magdaleno: …I… I don't know what to say. I don't know if I'm grateful for the opportunity to say goodbye or not.

SCP-7955: It's alright, Marcus. This isn't a tragedy, not really. After all, Taliesin wouldn't have been anything if Gwion hadn't been eaten alive.

Dr Magdaleno: …are you sure you're still lucid?

SCP-7955: (chuckles) Just something that my Teacher told me. But that's a bit off-topic. You see, I finally remember why I became a shapeshifter, and now I know for a fact that this is what I wanted all along.

Dr Magdaleno: You're going to have to explain that one to me, Jim, because it's still not making sense. I mean, I know you wanted us to help the other cultists, but that can't actually be why-

SCP-7955: I could have escaped the church in any way I pleased, but in the end, I wanted to change. So, I had my own private Rite of the Shining Brow and simply flew away. It took a few weeks of rambling to find someone I thought would be able to help them, and even longer to remember everything you needed to hear, but it worked out in the end. All in all, I'm happy.

Dr Magdaleno: Even though it ends like this? Even though you're going to die no matter how you interpret the results? How can you be happy with what happened after all the horror you suffered because of it?

SCP-7955: Because I was warned that this would happen if I chose to become one of the Children of Proteus… and because I chose this.

Five-second pause.

SCP-7955: Becoming a shapeshifter was the first real choice I made in my entire life, Marcus. Up until then, I just… drifted. I kept my head down, I followed orders, and I let people tell me who I was, and what I should expect from my life. Even when I got dissatisfied and tried to do something different, I just found someone else to boss me around, because deep down, I believed that people more confident than me would always be right. How do you think I joined a cult in the first place?

Dr Magdaleno: (bitterly) And this Teacher of yours gave you that first choice by telling you to become a shapeshifter? Is that it?

SCP-7955: Far from it: I had to do a favour for her before she'd even consider helping with the Rite. No, all she did was tell me the truth about the Disciples… and that was when I realized for the first time just how much of my life I'd wasted.

Dr Magdaleno: And you never thought of going back to civilization to recover your life? You didn't even consider it? I… I mean, you basically committed suicide! You had a chance for a normal, happy life and-and-and you just wasted it without even giving it the slightest bit of thought? And don't say "what's normal?" Jim, I'm not in the mood for rhetorical flourishes.

SCP-7955: (chuckling) Are you angry because you believe I threw my life away in exchange for shapeshifting powers, or are you angry because you were hoping for your version of a happy ending - instead of my version?

Dr Magdaleno: Both! When I stepped into this room, I actually thought you'd completely recovered. Next thing I know, you tell me that I have to say goodbye to you after all! And then you say you wanted it this way all along! Why wouldn't I be angry?

SCP-7955: Fair enough. But you have to understand this: I didn't have a life back then.

Dr Magdaleno: Melodramatic bullshit, Jim.

SCP-7955: I already told you about the cycle I'd been trapped in. What life was I supposed to recover? I'd have another thirty years of being drowned out by every voice louder than a whisper, and after a few months of that… well, I'd probably be in a cult again, right back to following the orders like a good little soldier. That's not life, Marcus. Back in the bad old days, I didn't even have the presence of mind to consider my own feelings for the fifteen years I was with the Disciples, and when I finally did, you know what I found?

Hissing sounds, indicating rapid shapeshifting

SCP-7955: I hated myself. I hated my body, my thoughts, the years I'd squandered, and all the times I'd encouraged people to be as conformist as I was. So, I made a choice that nobody told me to make. Now, I'm whoever I want to be - any age, any sex, any species, any object. Even if my life as a Child of Proteus ends in dementia and an early grave, I don't regret a second of the happiness I experienced because of it, because it was my decision.

Pause. Hissing sounds gradually subside.

Dr Magdaleno: …I think I understand, Jim. Thank you.

SCP-7955: (shudders) Ah. Here we go.

Dr Magdaleno: Now? But-

SCP-7955: Can't delay it a moment longer. When we're called to go, we must. Ahhh… (shivers) Thank you both for looking after me. And… thank you for being my friend, Marcus, not that either of us were expecting it. Please don't cry. If it's any consolation, I think you're sick to death of my little mantra by now, am I right?

Dr Magdaleno: (laughs weakly) It did get on my nerves, yes.

SCP-7955: Might as well try something else, then, just for the occasion. (sigh) Hare. Fish. Bird. Grain… Taliesin.

Sound of rushing water.

Silence.

[END LOG]

Dr Magdaleno's Log 13/10/2020 - FINAL ENTRY

Barely had enough time to dry my eyes before getting hauled off to the Site Director's office for the creepiest phone call I've had all year. This is the first time I've been officially debriefed by the O5 Council, and frankly, I'd prefer it if there weren't any encores.

But on the upside, I finally know why I was allowed to look after Jim for so long without anyone protesting my lack of professionalism. In fact, that "unprofessionally empathic streak" was exactly why I was assigned to SCP-7955in the first place. Don't know whether to feel insulted, used, or just plain miserable about it. Probably all three.

The O5s didn't want objectivity in this case, and they didn't want clinical detachment. They wanted more than what Jim would be willing to tell us, even while fully lucid. They wanted someone who could bond with SCP-7955 on an emotional level, someone who could sympathize with him, even consider him a friend. They wanted to establish trust, so that if he was ever lucid enough to spill the full extent of his secrets, he'd share them with me.

Well, it worked: Jim left a huge stockpile of papers for me, completed just before I was called to the scene. He gave me everything - names, dates, addresses, sketches of the cult members, impressions of the binding runes, things he found in the Elders' occult library, everything. There were even things unnecessary to his mission, including descriptions of the weirder things in the cult's collection (probably what the O5s really wanted). True, he couldn't provide a location for the church - apparently, he was drugged and blindfolded for every journey there - but he saw the area from the sky when he escaped, enough of it to give us some ballpark coordinates.

I seriously hope the O5s don't expect me to congratulate them for this clever plan of theirs.

They want my log confiscated so it can be entered into official records. They're welcome to it, as far as I'm concerned. There's still more work to do, especially with a possible raid on the Disciple's headquarters in the cards and an after-action report to write up… and if anyone actually thinks I'm going to be the one doing it after everything that's happened today, they can go fuck themselves.

Aristaios can handle the rest of this assignment, and I know he wants it from the way he's been sniffing around my notes. I know I'm going to catch hell for waving the white flag at this stage, but right now, I can't bring myself to give a shit anymore.

Note: Following the confiscation of this log, Dr Marcus Magdaleno was placed on administrative leave pending a full psychological evaluation. Dr Quentin Aristaios was reassigned to the concluding study of SCP-7955 as Magdaleno's substitute.

- Research Assistant Teo

- Close

+ Final Report (23/11/2020)

- Close

Thorough analysis has confirmed that SCP-7955's neurodegenerative condition has reached its logical conclusion, resulting in a total loss of all higher and lower brain functions. In keeping with the acceleration of its polymorphic traits, it was able to achieve a liquid form before expiring, and now exists in the form of two hundred litres of sea water, currently contained in an aquarium tank. Extensive testing reveals no brain functions, no signs of life, and no anomalous phenomena: SCP-7955 is now chemically identical to ordinary sea water.

SCP-7955's final notes were determined to contain sufficient strategic data to justify a search for the Disciples of Cerridwen the Angel. The underground church it mentioned was eventually located in a previously unknown cave network under Bannau Brycheiniog National Park, Wales, and raided on 20/10/2020.

Ninety-seven members of the cult were apprehended with little violence, the Disciples having apparently expended most of their mundane and anomalous resources some months prior. Unfortunately, the Elders of the cult could not be captured alive, all ten of them having taken fatal doses of cyanide before Foundation operatives could breach their private chambers. However, the stockpile of occult literature and the numerous anomalous items found among the dead Elders' possessions has more than justified the cost of this raid.

One of the more pertinent finds was the iron cauldron that the Elders used to distribute the cyanide amongst themselves. Analysis of old stains at the base and rim of the cauldron has uncovered traces of DNA similar to that of SCP-7955, likely accumulated over several decades of use in cooking. Given that autopsies have confirmed that the Elders were in remarkable good health despite their extreme old age at the time of their deaths, we can now confirm SCP-7955's claims of his fellow Inheritors being consumed post-mortem as "immortality soup".

The surviving members of the Disciples are currently being treated for long-term psychological abuse in care facilities under Foundation control. At present, they are being encouraged to believe that anything paranormal they might have witnessed was faked by the Elders (amnestics were judged unnecessary in this case, as the last openly anomalous event known to them occurred more than fifteen years ago).

However, no trace of the polymorphic entity SCP-7955 referred to as "Teacher" could be found, and the area where she was supposedly imprisoned had been unoccupied for some time. Psychological analysis suggests that SCP-7955 may have simply imagined her, though it is equally likely that "Teacher" had already escaped by the time of our arrival, as most of the binding runes around the site had degraded to the point that only trace activity could be detected, while others had been defaced (likely via hammer and chisel).

As no evidence currently exists to contradict SCP-7955's claims concerning the compulsive isolationism of its fellow polymorphs, we can declare Teacher and the other "Children of Proteus" to be effectively contained of their own volition, and therefore of no concern to the Foundation until proven otherwise.

With all this in mind, the interrogation and study of SCP-7955 has been a success. No further research will need to be expended on it, and all investigations into individuals, organizations, or phenomena connected to it are now officially defunct.

SCP-7955 has been reclassed as "Neutralized," and with its remains of no further scientific value, they will be disposed of in accordance with standard protocols for potentially hazardous waste.

- Dr Quentin Aristaios (standing in for Dr Marcus Magdaleno)

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+ Addendum 7955-1 (23/11/2020)

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WARNING: THE FOLLOWING DOCUMENT IS RESTRICTED TO PROJECT THETIS EXECUTIVE STAFF

ANY ATTEMPT TO ACCESS THIS FILE WITHOUT PROJECT THETIS EXECUTIVE CREDENTIALS OR AUTHORIZATION WILL BE LOGGED AND WILL LEAD TO IMMEDIATE DISCIPLINARY ACTION.

PROJECT THETIS EXECUTIVE CREDENTIALS ACCEPTED

To the esteemed members of the O5 Council,

At the start of my investigation, I was convinced that SCP-7955's liquid remains were inert and without any sign of anomalous activity. However, observation has since revealed that, far from being inactive, the "remains" are still demonstrating signs of life.

The liquid will occasionally move of its own accord, resulting in ripples and waves independent of air currents, and though it has made no attempt to escape its tank, these sudden movements are showing no sign of ceasing after weeks of observation. In other words, it has no brain activity (inasmuch as a mass of liquid can be said to have a brain) but it still has enough functional nerves to possess unconscious reflexes.

More importantly, this liquid has also begun to demonstrate rudimentary polymorphic activity, forming primitive tendrils and teeth and reabsorbing them back into its mass just as quickly.

SCP-7955's polymorphic traits are still of value to the Foundation, especially its potential longevity and its ability to generate and subtract mass at will. I know there is little place for baseless conjecture in our research, but I must admit that some of SCP-7955's more conspicuous references to "Gwion and Taliesin" also brought to mind other possibilities (though these remain purely theoretical for the time being).

Furthermore, we now have a second chance to study a rare and powerful metamorphic phenomenon, but this time without any of the attendant risks or setbacks. Most of the true shapeshifters we have in containment at this time are either openly hostile to human life or at the very least potential threats, while SCP-7955 was a neurotic, dementia-addled invalid of limited utility, and even the fabled Children of Proteus are on record as being too insular and cowardly to be cooperative. By contrast, SCP-7955's remains offer all the research benefits with none of the drawbacks.

Whatever we can call this liquid at present, it has no personality, memories, intellect, and (most importantly) no capacity to resist our experiments, making it ideal for unimpeded research. The only known barrier to experimentation that exists at present is the potential for bias among researchers, as knowledge of the test subject's origins and testimony might adversely affect our results if personnel believe that they know what to expect. Similarly, Dr Magdaleno and Research Assistant Teo may pose a considerable security risk if they were ever to become aware of the true nature and whereabouts of SCP-7955's remains.

I therefore request permission to keep SCP-7955 classified as "Neutralized", while its liquid form is made the exclusive subject of a new and strictly confidential research project.

What remains of our Child of Proteus represents an unprecedented opportunity, esteemed O5s: I humbly recommend we make the most of it.

Sincerely,

Dr Quentin Aristaios

Permission granted. With our authorization and the blessing of the Ethics Committee, Project Thetis is now officially active.

- O5██

Footnotes

1. As a result of its neurodegenerative condition, SCP-7955 often forgot to eat.

2. In one case, an attempt to disguise itself as a chair during initial testing resulted in a swivel chair made of human muscle, bone, and cartilage.

3. Painkiller-resistant headaches are now believed to be a side-effect of polymorphic dementia, the result of inflammation in the wake of successive alterations to the brain.

4. Tests of SCP-7955's physiology confirms heightened levels of endorphins, dopamine, and serotonin in its blood during transformation.

5. Based on this premise, "Lebbaeus" is presumably a reference to one of the aliases of Saint Jude the Apostle, also known as Thaddeus or Jude of James.

6. SCP-7955's notes suggest that the Elders often drugged "difficult" recruits so that they could "meditate on the story of Cerridwen and Taliesin" in the Elders' private apartments.

7. A state of restored cognitive function experienced by some sufferers of severe neurological disorders shortly before death.