Item #: SCP-6628

Object Class: Keter Neutralized

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-6628-1 has been moved to a storage room within Site-19. Requests to study SCP-6628-1 should be made to the desk of the director of Site-19. No further procedures are considered necessary.

Investigation into SCP-6628's kidnapping ceased on 2/28/1981.

+Archived Containment Procedures+

-Close Procedures-

Archival Date: 2/30/1981

A fenced perimeter surrounding the maximum range of SCP-6628 appearances is to be established, with the perimeter increasing as the maximum range increases. Traffic surrounding the perimeter is to be rerouted in order to prevent vehicles from passing through the perimeter after it increases to incorporate roadways, with similar measures being taken should it reach more populated areas.

A team has been assigned to the home of SCP-6628 in order to study SCP-6628 and maintain its perimeter. This has been designated Provisional Site 223. At the time of writing, the current perimeter distance is 60m horizontally from SCP-6628-1 and currently incorporates SCP-6628-1, James Brown's residence, the majority of the surrounding cornfields, and a small access road. Stories of SCP-6628 appearances are to be written off as ghost stories and myths.

Description: SCP-6628 was James Brown, a 22-year-old man from Sternwheeler Springs, Colorado. Originally, SCP-6628 was declared a missing person on 7/18/1980. However, it was discovered that SCP-6628 had become trapped in SCP-6628-1 as part of its anomalous thaumaturgical effect. On 2/12/1981, SCP-6628-1 was neutralized by two members of GoI-6647 (M.O.M.) who ceased the thaumaturgical process and kidnapped SCP-6628.

SCP-6628-1 is a 2m X 2.5m X 7m device constructed of scrap metals and miscellaneous wiring, with a single broken window built into a door leading to an interior chamber. The device is large enough for a single person to stand within the chamber. The interior chamber contains a CRT monitor and an electric typewriter mounted to the back wall. Prior to neutralization, SCP-6628-1 had captured SCP-6628 within a temporal anomaly, causing him to shift back and forth between various time periods seemingly at random, leading to the belief that SCP-6628 functioned as an uncontrollable "time machine."

For archival purposes, the description of SCP-6628 prior to its neutralization has been included below.

+Archived Description+

-Close Archive-

Archival Date: 5/14/1981

SCP-6628 is an incorporeal entity that manifests for 10-15 seconds at a time within a certain range surrounding SCP-6628-1. After this period, SCP-6628 will demanifest for anywhere between 30 seconds to 96 hours. The range in which it can appear increases by approximately 5m every 2 weeks. SCP-6628 cannot be interacted with, as all attempts to physically touch the entity result in the subject phasing through it and the entity does not respond to other sensory stimuli.

SCP-6628 manifests as a replica of James Brown, a 22-year-old man from Sternwheeler Springs, Colorado, who was reported missing on 7/18/1980. Although SCP-6628's person does not change between appearances, SCP-6628's clothing is shown to vary immensely. The clothes worn by SCP-6628 will change to match the popular styles of various periods in history, including some which are hypothesized to originate from periods in the future. SCP-6628 appears standing in a position indicating that it has just thrown an object with great force. SCP-6628's facial expression indicates that it is in extreme emotional distress.

SCP-6628-1 is a 2m X 2.5m X 7m device located within the basement of Brown's residence. The device appears to be constructed of scrap metals and wiring taken from the house itself, with a single broken window built into a door leading to an interior chamber. The device is large enough for a single person to stand within the chamber. The interior chamber contains a CRT monitor and an electric typewriter mounted to the back wall, presumably functioning as the device's controls. What the device does, if anything, is unknown.

SCP-6628-1 cannot be altered or moved in any way. Attempts to open the chamber door or move the device have all failed. A crescent wrench is lodged in the window of the chamber door, with the wrench and broken glass suspended in the air. Carved into the side of the wrench is a series of thaumaturgical symbols, causing the wrench to emit a Hume level of 100.65.1

Addendum 6628-1: Interview Logs

► Interview Log 01

▼ Close Log

Interviewer: Dr. Connors, Junior Researcher Patra

Interviewee: Clarissa O'Neil

Date: 8/22/1980

Begin Log

Dr. Connors: Hello, Clarissa. Do you know why you're here?

O'Neil: I mean, the last interview was about Jimmy. Sorry, am I on tape?

Dr. Connors: Oh, yes. Should've mentioned, this is my partner, Junior Detective… Smith. They're shadowing me as part of their orientation and recording this on video, I hope you don't mind. Say hi, Smith!

J.R. Patra: ..hm? Oh! Yes, Smith, that's me! Hi!

O'Neil: ..right. I guess that's fine.

Dr. Connors: So, what was the nature of your relationship with Mr. Brown?

O'Neil: I- look, I've had to sit through a lot of police interviews by now. Just, call him James, or Jimmy, please? The formalities are getting tiring.

Dr. Connors: Of course. What was your relationship like with James?

O'Neil: I mean, I was his girlfriend for a while, so…

Dr. Connors: How long would you say you were together?

O'Neil: I don't know, four years? No, wait, I told the police five…

Dr. Connors: Do you not remember?

O'Neil: I really didn't keep track.

Dr. Connors: How steady wa-

O'Neil: Look, I know you mean well, but before you ask, I'm just gonna lay it all out on the table so I can get out of here and never think about this again. Okay?

Dr. Connors: Please, go ahead.

O'Neil: Jimmy was a standup guy, but he was never around. He was always down in that basement or cellar or whatever of his, smacking something with a hammer or welding something together. He just wasn't there for me. We went on dates a lot, and he hugged me and kissed me enough and all the things I guess you're supposed to do but his mind was always off elsewhere, still shoving pieces of scraps together. It just… makes a girl feel unappreciated.

O'Neil turns her head and looks at J.R. Patra.

O'Neil: You know what I mean?

J.R. Patra nods. O'Neil looks back at Dr. Connors.

O'Neil: To cut to the chase, Charlie, my neighbor, comes by one day with a letter. Some odd bill the mailman put in the wrong box. Neither of us had anything going on that day so I invite him in, and… y'know. One thing leads to another.

Dr. Connors: Sure, sure.

O'Neil: Anyway, one night Charlie invites me to the drive-in. I asked Jimmy if he wanted to go with me but he says no, he's got plans with Mikey. Something happens and he ends up going with Mikey to the drive-in anyway and on his way to the concessions, he catches me sucking Charlie's dick in his red pickup. I kind of expected him to get mad or cry or something but he just kinda looked droopy and tired like he always does, except a little more hurt, and he kept on walking. I tried to run out to his car and tell him I was sorry but he just didn't even seem to hear it. Just kept saying "alright, okay" and things like that. I guess my heart wasn't really in it either. But y'know? I don't feel bad. I really don't. I'm doing the things that I gotta do, and that's all that's important.

Dr. Connors:…I see. Um…

Dr. Connors clears his throat.

Dr. Connors: Do you know what sort of projects James was working on at the time?

O'Neil: Not really. I hardly ever went down there with him. That basement is damp and littered with booze. Could ask Mikey though, I guess.

Dr. Connors: Mikey?

O'Neil: Sorry, Michael Lampert. Jimmy's only friend, really.

Dr. Connors: Well, thank you for your time. If you'll just wait outside for a minute or two, then you'll be free to leave.

O'Neil: Sure, I guess.

O'Neil leaves the room. Dr. Connors gestures for J.R. Patra to sit in the interviewee's chair, and she does so.

Dr. Connors: So, did that seem easy enough?

J.R. Patra: Well, it was some very simple questions, and the interviewee really led the conversation…

Dr. Connors: Did they? Or did I let them feel like they were leading? Sometimes, the best way to get the most information is to let the interviewee feel like they're handling it. In this case, the interviewee was inclined to keep speaking, although I very easily could have interrupted with another question at any time.

J.R. Patra: But interrupting people is rude, isn't it?

Dr. Connors: In most cases, yes, but in this case, it can keep them on topic and helps them relay more useful information. Or, in some cases, it can be used to catch them in a lie, or simply to break their train of thought or any myriad of things. It's a verbal tool, really.

J.R. Patra writes something in her notebook.

Dr. Connors: Any other questions?

J.R. Patra shakes her head. Dr. Connors opens his briefcase and removes a Class-A amnestic syringe, then hands it to J.R. Patra.

Dr. Connors: I think I'll let you take a crack at amnestizing her, then we'll go visit this Mikey guy.

End Log

► Interview Log 02

▼ Close Log

Interviewer: Dr. Connors, Junior Researcher Patra

Interviewee: Michael Lampert

Date: 8/22/1980

Begin Log

Dr. Connors: Hello, Michael. Do you know why you're here?

Lampert: This is about Jimmy, isn't it? I already told the police, it wasn't my fault. I don't know what more you'd want from me.

Dr. Connors: Actually, we're not with the police. We're from a private detective agency.

Lampert: Oh. This feels unusually formal for a P.I.

Dr. Connors: What was your relationship like with Mr. Brown?

Lampert: We were best friends, but, y'know, that wasn't saying a lot when it came to Jimmy.

Dr. Connors: How do you mean?

Lampert: Well Jimmy never had many friends. In Highschool, it was me, the Jacksons, Karl, and Clarissa. I'm sure you heard about him and Clarissa.

Dr. Connors: We did.

Lampert: Yeah. The Jacksons went off to college in Virginia and Karl's mom died so he went to live with his dad in… Indiana, I think it was. So it was just me and Clarissa.

Dr. Connors: I take it the break-up hit him pretty hard?

Lampert: You don't know the half of it. He was usually pretty quiet but he went full-time hermit for a while there.

Dr. Connors: Can you elaborate?

Lampert: Um… well, he didn't reach out to me for a few months. I didn't notice for a while but one day I realized we hadn't talked in too long so I drop by his place and knock on the door and yell at him to come out.

Dr. Connors: How did you know he'd be at home?

Lampert: He was always home, that's just how he is. Not a very social animal. He comes to the door and his hair's all messy and greasy and it looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. He looked like a train ran him over, frankly. Oh, and between you and me, he didn't smell great either.

Dr. Connors: Sounds like a shock to the senses.

Lampert: It was. I ask him if I can come in and he just kinda steps away from the door and gestures to the living room. I tried to chat with him but he wasn't particularly interested in talking. One-word answers for everything. Eventually, I ask him if he's working on anything new and his eyes light up. Takes me down to the basement and there's this massive metal box along the back wall. Big thing, made out of scrap materials, and… well now that I think about it, some of it was probably taken from random materials around the house. I could be misremembering but he was missing a lot of furniture that day.

Dr. Connors: Did he say anything about the project?

Lampert: He said it would let him fix his mistakes, get her back. I don't know how, it definitely wasn't gonna woo her. Frankly, I should've guessed it was meant to be a time machine. Had that science fiction look to it. I mean, part of me knows that stuff's not real, but-

Dr. Connors: What did you do after you saw it?

Lampert: We went back upstairs. I asked him if he had any plans coming up and of course, he said he was busy all century so I told him there was a magic show coming up at Buell Theater.

Dr. Connors: Why a magic show?

Lampert: I'm a stage nut, but he doesn't care for plays too much, so magic shows are kind of good middle ground. It was more just an excuse to get him out of the house than anything else.

Dr. Connors: I see. Did he show up for it?

Lampert: Actually, he did, dressed to the nines even. Showered, cleaned. Was unusual.

Dr. Connors: How did the show go?

Lampert: Show was fine, y'know. It wasn't anything terribly special, but the magician was charismatic and entertaining. Jimmy and i went to meet him after the show. Was a real nice guy, if not a little… eccentric?

Dr. Connors: How so?

Lampert: Well… Jimmy asks him to put his autograph on this wrench he's got.

Dr. Connors: He brought a wrench to a magic show?

Lampert: I think it was his dad's. His dad liked building stuff too, gave him a bunch of tools before he died. I never saw Jimmy without at least one of them on his person, even in high school.

Dr. Connors: I see. Please continue.

Lampert: Right, so, the magician looks at him and goes… it was something like "you look like you've had a hard day. Come to the back with me, I can get you more than an autograph." So Jimmy looks at me and I just shrug and tell him, y'know, "alright, I'll be at the bar."

Dr. Connors: Did Jimmy ever tell you what happened with him?

Lampert: What, like what they talked about? No. He said they chatted for a while, made some kind of deal, and the magician wrote some odd scribblings on his wrench but that was all. He didn't want to give me specifics. He got mad when I tried to ask what the deal was so I just decided to not think about it too hard.

Dr. Connors: What did you do afterward?

Lampert: Uh, dropped him off, went home. Fell asleep on the couch?

Dr. Connors: Was this the last time you saw Mr. Brown?

Lampert sighs and holds his face in his hands.

Lampert: No, it wasn't. Last time I saw him was… you'll think I'm crazy, but I swear, I saw his ghost standing out in the field around his house. Looked almost exactly the way he did when he vanished, though he was dressed kind of funny.

Dr. Connors: Vanished?

Lampert: Oh god, you're gonna make me talk about this again.

Dr. Connors: I'm sorry if this is upsetting, but I do need to know.

Lampert rubs his eyes.

Lampert: No, no, I understand. I just… ugh. Okay. Jimmy invites me over. Takes me into the basement, and tells me the big thing down there is finally finished. I say okay, just to… y'know… god, what's the word..?

Dr. Connors: Humor him?

Lampert: Yeah, thanks. He finally tells me it's a time machine. I tell him "alright, go back in time and get me ice cream from the shop that closed two years ago" and he actually opens the door and steps inside like he's gonna do it. He punches in a few keys on the typewriter in there and looks up at the tv screen. But, y'know, there's not anything on it. It's not plugged into anything, the cord was still dangling from the monitor. He tries it again and I try to tell him, y'know, it's not plugged in, but I think he couldn't hear me through the door. Presses some keys in on the typewriter a couple more times before he finally opens the door all pissed off. He comes out yelling about how he can't fix anything and how his life's gone to shit and everything is terrible - his words, not mine - and he just starts crying and breaking down.

Dr. Connors: Sounds as though he was in great distress.

Lampert: Well, yeah. I try to tell him it's just not plugged in and he turns and yells at me, saying it's got some real science-y thing running it. A quantum power core drive thingy. Says everything would just be better if she was still here - Clarissa, I mean - and just wishes she'd told him what was happening. Grabs the wrench from the show off of the table and looks at the time machine real angrily and lobs the wrench through the window, and…

approx. ten seconds of silence pass.

Dr. Connors: And?

Lampert begins to weep silently.

Lampert: God, I'm sorry. I've done this at every god damn interview so far. It's just, nobody believes me when I tell them.

Dr. Connors: I don't have a reason to not believe you.

Lampert: Yeah. Okay. When he threw the wrench, it got like, stuck in the window, and this bolt of thunder or… lightning, or whatever the hell… it jumps out of the wrench and straight through his fucking hand… and then he's… he's just gone. No smoke or ashes or anything. Poof.

Dr. Connors: I see.

Lampert: You believe me, right? I'm telling the truth. That's just how it happened, I didn't fucki-

Dr. Connors: I believe you, Michael.

Lampert wipes his eyes.

Dr. Connors: I think that's all we need. If you'll just sit outside the room for a moment or two, and then you can go home.

Lampert: Yeah. Okay. I'll do that. I'm sorry for, y'know, all this.

Lampert gestures to his face.

Dr. Connors: It's alright.

Lampert leaves the room and Dr. Connors gestures for J.R. Patra to sit in the interviewee's seat. She does so.

Dr. Connors: So, what did you think of that one?

J.R. Patra: You asked a lot of little questions and made comments in between, but he already seemed willing to talk.

Dr. Connors: Yes, but that doesn't always mean they're willing to talk unprompted. Lots of interviewees may need you to lead the conversation by constantly prompting them to keep going. For example, Mr. Lampert here did want to speak to me, but if I hadn't asked about Brown vanishing, we never would've known for a fact that he threw the wrench.

J.R. Patra: But… how can you tell? Whether you should ask a lot of questions or very few, I mean.

Dr. Connors: Part of it is in reading their personality and their expressions, although I guess some of it boils down to intuition you develop after doing this for a long time. I think I'm going on nine years now?

J.R. Patra: I see. I suppose I'd have to fail a few interviews before I got good.

Dr. Connors: Unfortunately, that tends to be how it shakes out. Did you have any other questions?

J.R. Patra: No, I think that's everything. Amnestization time?

Dr. Connors takes a syringe of Class-A amnestic out of his briefcase.

Dr. Connors: You learn fast. After this, we'll run some checks on that magician and the company he works for, and then I think we take a trip to the theater, see what their security's like.

► Interview Log 03

▼ Close Log

Interviewer: Dr. Connors, Junior Researcher Patra

Interviewee: Patrick McDougal

Date: 8/22/1980

Foreword (opt.): We searched Buell Theater and McDougal's residence and came up with nothing. McDougal owns the theater. -Dr. Connors

Begin Log

Dr. Connors: Hello, Patrick. Do you know why you're here?

McDougal: Is this another thing about that magic show? How many more of these interviews will I have to do? I've tried to tell you assholes, I don't know anything.

Dr. Connors: We aren't with the police, we're from a private agency.

McDougal: Oh god, you aren't with the magicians, are you? Look, there's nothing left, okay? I just want my hands washed of the whole damn thing!

Dr. Connors: Define 'nothing left.'

McDougal The security tapes are all just gone, alright? I'm not hiding them or anything, I swear, they just up and disappeared!

Dr. Connors: Mhm, and what about the transaction receipts and written agreements, or the contract?

McDougal: There wasn't any! He just paid me two hundred thousand in cash to use a dressing room and perform a night! I let him keep all the profits, it was basically a rental!

Dr. Connors: No tax forms, then? Do you have his or his company's name?

McDougal: No! No, nothing! I didn't give the police anything because I don't have anything!

Dr. Connors: Hm.

A few moments pass. Dr. Connors looks mildly upset.

McDougal: Wait. You guys aren't actually with them, are you?

Dr. Connors: No, sir.

McDougal: Oh, fuck.

Dr. Connors turns to look at J.R. Patra.

Dr. Connors: Care to ask some questions of your own, Smith?

J.R. Patra: Oh, yes! Uhm..

J.R. Patra clears her throat.

J.R. Patra: What did you think of the show?

McDougal: It was fine, I suppose. Christ, they're gonna wring my neck for this one of these days..

J.R. Patra: What makes you say that?

McDougal: I mean, it wasn't just the one guy, y'know? He had a couple of guards with him. Big dudes in these brown leather dusters and a couple other trucks and vans pulled up with them. They were confident, organized… God this is such a fucking mess.

J.R. Patra: Did anything about the performance strike you as particularly odd?

McDougal: No, but, I mean, it's magic, right? He's supposed to pull a whole canoe out of his hat or cut off and reattach limbs, so what? That's the idea of it.

J.R. Patra: Did you ever see any trick apparatuses? Tools that would help him cover it up when performing, I mean.

McDougal: Well, no, I guess… no luggage or anything.

J.R. Patra: That's all I've got.

Dr. Connors: Alright. One more thing, Patrick. We found some purple splotches around his dressing room, over the desk. Any idea what they were?

McDougal: What? I don't know, kool-aid?

Dr. Connors: I believe that's all, then. If you can just wait outside the room for a few moments, then we'll let you go.

McDougal: Christ, yeah, alright. Never should have said anything.

McDougal stands to leave.

McDougal: You two be careful with this, okay? I know groups like these. When they want something, they're going to get it.

Dr. Connors: Of course, sir. Have a good day.

McDougal exits the interview room. J.R. Patra sits in the interviewee's seat.

Dr. Connors: Well, your tone was a little shaky, but you did well with your questions!

J.R. Patra: Oh! Thank you! I was a little worried I threw things off. You were using a weird fear tactic at first.

Dr. Connors: You picked up on that, good. Can you tell me how it worked?

J.R. Patra: You let him believe we were with the magician group without ever saying so, and used that against him to get him to say things he thought we already knew.

Dr. Connors: You knew more about that than I figured!

Dr. Connors opens his briefcase and removes an amnestic syringe.

Dr. Connors: They teach that in interviews 101 now?

J.R. Patra: mhm!

End Log

► Interview Log 04

▼ Close Log

Interviewer: J.R. Patra

Interviewee: Dr. Connors

Date: 8/25/1980

Begin Log

Dr. Connors: Alright, Cleo. You've walked me out to the interview room. What was it that you needed so badly?

J.R. Patra: I just, I don't get it, Dr. Connors. I've been digging through our files, trying to figure out how to write my stupid report, but it just doesn't go anywhere! We haven't solved this but we aren't going back out to track down that magician?

Dr. Connors: It's unfortunate that your first anomaly is one that ends in a cold trail, but sometimes that's just how these things are. Would it help to review what we do have?

J.R. Patra: I… maybe. There's our two interviews, then those lead us to the theater, but the magician isn't there. The magician works for a nonexistent company that booked the show entirely under the table and paid in unmarked cash. There's no paper trail, no useful witness reports, and no security footage of the magician and Jimmy's conversation. The magician doesn't have any paperwork about himself, no name to track or license plate to check. He's not even seen entering or leaving the building, but he's on footage before, during, and after the show. They've all got fake names, provided no IDs, and their faces have turned up nowhere…

Dr. Connors: So?

J.R. Patra: It's- It's just frustrating! I brought you in here and started the tape because I thought we might come up with something but there's just nothing! It feels so anticlimactic! I was so ready to take down some magic operation and shut this whole thing down but…

Dr. Connors: But it just doesn't shake out that way. The hardest lesson there is that there is almost never a true climax. Sometimes it really is just about a guy who sold his soul to bounce back and forth through time. No more, no less. I can see why that might feel disappointing at first, but that's the way life often is. And hey, who knows, maybe it'll show up out of the blue someday.

J.R. Patra: I… I guess you're right. Sorry for dragging you in here.

Dr. Connors: That's alright, it's about lunchtime anyway. You wanna stop by that sandwich place in town? You look like you could use a milkshake.

J.R. Patra: Yeah, maybe.

End Log

Addendum 6628-2: Notices

► Forensics Notice: 8/26/1980

▼ Close Notice

From: Site-19 Forensics

To: SCP-6628 Investigative Team

Date: 8/26/1980

Dear Dr. Connors and the SCP-6628 Investigative Team,

Results for the substance found at Buell Theater are inconclusive. It's comprised mostly of human blood, although DNA sequences within have been anomalously "scrambled." This may be the source of the purple coloration. Unfortunately, this means we cannot use it for DNA testing.

The sample (0.05mL) emits an extremely weak Hume discrepancy at roughly 100.01 Humes. Some members of our team and those in thaumaturgics have theorized that this is the cause of the wrench lodged in SCP-6628-1's Hume discrepancy, wherein 32.5mL of the substance was "absorbed" as part of the thaumaturgical process. This would result in the 100.65 Hume level.

-Site-19 Forensics

► Cold Case Notice: 2/28/1981

▼ Close Notice

From: Site-19 Director's Office

To: SCP-6628 Investigative Team

Date: 4/28/1981

Dear Dr. Connors and the SCP-6628 Investigative Team,

As six months have passed since your cold case report submission, this notice is to inform you that this investigation will be officially closed on 5/28/1981.

You will have approximately thirty days to prepare for return, during which an MTF deployment will move in to maintain containment procedures indefinitely.

Should any new leads become available during or after this period, you may feel free to pursue them and submit a case reopen request.

-Site-19 Director's Office

Addendum 6628-3: Incident Log

► Incident Log

▼ Close Log

Incident Report: 2/12/1981

Involved Persons: PoI-6628-1, PoI-6628-2, J.R. Patra, Dr. Connors, +12 others..

Incident Description:

At 0235 hours, the perimeter surrounding Provisional Site 223 was approached by two men in a black convertible. The two men, PoI-6628-1 and PoI-6628-2, parked the car in the field by the perimeter fence. The two men both wear brown leather dusters over a white undershirt and black tie. They appear to be twins. PoI-6628-2 cuts through the perimeter fence with a handheld saw, after which fire starts at the opposite side of the field and both persons breach the perimeter. Both persons approach Provisional Site 223 and enter the building through the two main entryways. For brevity and ease of reading, transcriptions of the recording devices on-site have been spliced together into one, which has been included below.

P.R. 223 #4 Video Log: 2/12/1981 (Edited - Multiple)

Foreword (opt.): This is an edited log including multiple other logs.

Begin Log

PoI-6628-1: Really hope R and D figures out smoke bombs sometime soon, I'm getting tired of lugging this saw around. Fucking sparks.

PoI-6628-2: Mhm.

PoI-XXXA-1 throws the saw into the bed of the truck and removes a shotgun. He then removes a second shotgun, which he throws to PoI-XXXA-2.

PoI-6628-1: I think we oughta go right for the security tent, take out the hive. Hopefully, the signal gets most of the patrollers out of the way. I'd guess there's maybe six or seven in the building itself, plus or minus a couple researchers. Could get away with just going in the front, you go in the back…

PoI-6628-2: Hm.

PoI-6628-1 takes off his hat and reaches into it, removing a pack of cigarettes. He slides a small zippo lighter out of his sleeve and lights a cigarette, then places it in his mouth. He holds the pack out to PoI-6628-2.

PoI-6628-1: You?

PoI-6628-2 shakes his head.

PoI-6628-1: Suit yourself.

PoI-6628-1 slides the lighter and cigarette pack up his sleeve.

PoI-6628-1: So… wait for the signal, I guess. You see the new fortune episode?

PoI-6628-2: Mm-mm.

PoI-6628-1 attempts to make small talk with PoI-6628-2 for roughly 3 minutes.

A small fire starts at the other side of the perimeter. It quickly grows across the field.

Security Agent 1: FIRE!

PoI-6628-1: There it is. Give me some memory juice and let's get going.

PoI-6628-2 looks at PoI-6628-1 in confusion. Security agents run across the field towards the fire, carrying flame extinguishers.

PoI-6628-1: Oh god, you didn't bring it, did you? Shit, alright. Live operation!

PoI-6628-1 takes a deep breath.

PoI-6628-1: Let's go wrap up the B-plot.

PoI-6628-1 and PoI-6628-2 breach the perimeter through the hole cut into the fence and begin moving along the fence's edge, across the cornfield. They stay low to the ground and are lost in the field. Four security agents can be seen struggling to put out the fire, which continues growing rapidly.

Security Agent 3: Call a fire truck!

A security agent calls the local 911 operator, who dispatches a fire truck and an ambulance.

PoI-6628-1: Shit, local authorities. God, is this gonna get messy?

PoI-6628-2: Hm.

PoI-6628-1 and PoI-6628-2 approach the edge of the field on the left side of the house, by the main security tent.

PoI-6628-1: Christ, that is a big tent. Alright then.

PoI-6628-1 and PoI-6628-2 look at each other, then nod.

PoI-6628-1: Here we go.

PoI-6628-1 and PoI-6628-2 both stand and step out of the field, walking towards the security tent with their firearms aimed at the door.

Security Agent 5: Man, that's a lot of smoke.

A security agent opens the tent door and is killed by a shotgun round. Other security agents within the tent get up and grab their firearms. PoI-6628-1 and PoI-6628-2 shoot two security agents sitting at the mess hall by the entrance and move farther into the tent.

Two security agents open the doors to barracks A and B at the same time. PoI-6628-1 and PoI-6628-2 flip over a mess hall table and take cover behind. The security agents aim around the barracks' doors and fire into the table.

PoI-6628-2 aims over the table and shoots one of the agents. The other closes the door to barracks B and hides in the barracks room. PoI-6628-1 and PoI-6628-2 stand and walk down the small corridor. PoI-6628-1 throws open the door to barrack B and stands away from the open doorway as the security agent fires into it. The two aim around the doorway and shoot the agent.

The fire truck and ambulance arrive but are ineffective in stopping the fire. It spreads across the entire length of the cornfield and continues spreading across the field in both directions. Medical staff loads one agent who has suffered severe third-degree burns into the ambulance. The medical staff calls the local authorities, reporting gunshots from the security tent.

PoI-6628-1 opens the door to the lead agent's office but there is no one inside. The two exit the tent and move to opposite ends of the house. A security agent covered in ash runs out of the cornfield and PoI-6628-2 and the agent stare at each other for a moment before PoI-6628-2 shoots the agent.

Police sirens can be heard in the distance as PoI-6628-1 approaches the residence's front door. PoI-6628-1 kicks open the door and steps into the main living room. PoI-6628-2 kicks open the back door and steps into the kitchen.

The two begin searching the house. They search the living room, kitchen, dining room, and bathroom before going upstairs. They check both upstairs bedrooms and the bathroom but do not notice the attic hatch in the hall. They return to the living room.

PoI-6628-1: Okay then. I suppose that's all of them. That just leaves the target.

PoI-6628-2: Mhm.

PoI-6628-1 opens the basement door in the living room. PoI-6628-2 raises his shotgun and walks down the stairs and into the basement with PoI-6628-1 following. Dr. Connors is attempting to hide in the corner of the room.

PoI-6628-1: You have a gun?

Dr. Connors shakes his head nervously.

PoI-6628-1: Get up. Get up!

Dr. Connors stands from the ground and puts his hands in the air.

PoI-6628-1: Go.

Dr. Connors walks towards the staircase slowly and leaves the room. PoI-6628-1 and PoI-6628-2 approach SCP-6628-1.

PoI-6628-1: Okay. Give me your rit knife so I can pull this wrench out.

PoI-6628-2: Hm..

PoI-6628-2 slides a short curved blade out of his sleeve. He uses it to cut his right palm, bleeding a reddish-purple liquid. He grabs the wrench in SCP-6628-1 with his cut hand and pulls the wrench out of the window, causing the broken glass to fall. James Brown manifests inside SCP-6628-1 and collapses against the wall of the chamber.

PoI-6628-1: Christ, poor guy. Alright, you wanna grab him or sh-

PoI-6628-2 opens the chamber door and lifts Brown, carrying him over his shoulder.

PoI-6628-1: I forget how strong you are sometimes.

PoI-6628-2: Mhm.

PoI-6628-1: Okay, let's get out of here.

They both walk back up the stairs and into the living room, PoI-6628-2 still carrying Brown. Dr. Connors steps out of the kitchen holding a small firearm. He fires at PoI-6628-1, shooting him through the back of the left shoulder. PoI-6628-1 turns and shoots Dr. Connors' right arm, removing the upper arm from the shoulder and causing him to collapse.

J.R. Patra: NO!

J.R. Patra stands at the bottom of the staircase leading to the second floor, holding a revolver. Lead Security Agent Briggs stands in the living room in front of her with a rifle.

J.R. Patra: You… you f-fucking shot him!

PoI-6628-1: Sure did, sweet cheeks. Can we do this some other time? I got places to be.

J.R. Patra: Who are you!?

PoI-6628-1: The Ringling Bros.

J.R. Patra: Who are you, damnit!?

PoI-6628-1 looks over at PoI-6628-2, who shrugs. PoI-6628-1's wound has healed extraordinarily quickly.

PoI-6628-1: We're with a, uh, traveling magic show.

J.R. Patra: Like the same one that made a deal with Mr. Brown there?

J.R. Patra nods at Brown, who is still being carried by PoI-6628-2.

PoI-6628-1: Shit, you know about that?

Smoke begins to fill the room slowly.

J.R. Patra: Who do you actually work for!? Serpent's Hand, Chaos Insurgency!?

PoI-6628-1: The who-what?

J.R. Patra: Who!?

PoI-6628-2: Mom.

PoI-6628-1 looks at PoI-6628-2, visibly upset.

J.R. Patra: Oh, bullshit!

PoI-6628-2 shakes his head.

PoI-6628-2: M-O-M.

J.R. Patra: Is that an acronym!? What does it stand for!?

PoI-6628-1: Look, lady-

Flames burst out of the right wall and climb up to the ceiling.

PoI-6628-1: Shit. Look, we're just here to cash in on our end of the deal and bounce. Now put the god damn gun down!

J.R. Patra: What was the deal!?

PoI-6628-1: He gets to shift through time as much as he wants, but we get to use him any time we need him!

J.R. Patra: What do you need him for!?

PoI-6628-1 and PoI-6628-2 remain silent. J.R. Patra fires her gun into the ceiling.

J.R. Patra: WHAT DO YO-

A portion of the ceiling rafters falls between them, burning. The floor quickly becomes engulfed in flames. J.R. Patra coughs from the smoke.

J.R. Patra: Shit, this place is… what the fuck!?

PoI-6628-1 and PoI-6628-2 have disappeared in the smoke, along with James Brown.

J.R. Patra: G-god damnit!

J.R. Patra jumps over the burning rafters and drops her gun, running into the kitchen. Police vehicles arrive outside and firefighters enter the building.

PoI-6628-1 and PoI-6628-2 run out the back door and across the burning field, still carrying Brown. They run out to the hole in the fencing as police officers chase after them. They toss Brown into the truck bed and hurriedly climb into the vehicle while police open fire. The vehicle takes off at a high speed, with two police vehicles in pursuit.

J.R. Patra gets down on her knees and holds Dr. Connors in her arms. He is bleeding from the arm profusely.

Dr. Connors: Well kid, here we are.

Dr. Connors coughs violently.

J.R. Patra: Motherfucker.

Dr. Connors: I… I guess you got the climax you wanted.

J.R. Patra: No, it's not over yet, it can't be.

Dr. Connors coughs, spitting blood onto his lab coat.

Dr. Connors: It's not over, not while you're still here.

J.R. Patra: You're not dying on me, Connors.

J.R. Patra grabs Dr. Connors under the arms and attempts to drag him, but quickly drops him.

J.R. Patra: Come on!

Dr. Connors: I don't- don't think it's happening, Cleo.

Firefighter: Miss? Can you walk, miss?

J.R. Patra: Come on, Connors! No!

Dr. Connors smiles at J.R. Patra. He chokes up blood.

Dr. Connors: Just… find them for me, will ya? That's… that's all that can be done.

A portion of the ceiling collapses.

Firefighter: We have to go, miss!

The firefighter grabs J.R. Patra around the waist and drags her out the back door.

J.R. Patra begins sobbing.

J.R. Patra: I'll find them, I promise.

End Log

Additional Notes (opt.): SCP-6628 has been neutralized. An official request for investigation has been submitted regarding the amazing, spectacular Remington Brothers! What an incredible performance!

► Additional Document(s)

▼ Close Document(s)

Motion To Continue SCP-6628 Investigation

Deliver To: Site-19 Director's Office

From: Junior Researcher Patra

Dear Director August

I understand I'm on the docket for promotional consideration despite my lacking a doctorate - I appreciate even so much as the consideration. It's a privilege and an honor.

I also understand you wish to close the SCP-6628 Investigation. While I agree that the neutralization of SCP-6628 also effectively neutralizes any need to investigate the anomaly itself, I feel it necessary to continue the investigation in order to look into the organization known as the M.O.M. All discovered data seems to point to the existence of a far larger organization than we've been presented with, and as their current goals remain a mystery, they may present a continuous threat to the Foundation. The carnage from SCP-6628's neutralization incident should confirm them as a legitimate threat in no uncertain terms should they decide they have further business with the Foundation. I'd simply like to ask for the ability to maintain an ongoing investigation, even if on minimal provisions.

Thank you again,

Junior Researcher Patra.

Motion Review: DENIED

Reason: No explorable data or method of tracking the organization has been presented. Resources are better used elsewhere.

This document has been retroactively incorporated into Investigation #6647.

Footnotes

1. This is 0.65 Humes above the baseline reality standard.