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SCP-3043: Murphy Law in… Type 3043 — FOR MURDER!

Author: The Great Hippo

Images: Link.

Inspired by Tracer Bullet from Calvin and Hobbes, and Taffeta's To Be Noir Not To Be tale.

Music: Jazz Noir (One Hour Mix) (Assorted Artists)

Next: [SCP-3057]: Fossil Fuels

More by The Great Hippo:

SCPs

– hide block

SCPs

[SCP-3034]
The Counting Station

DO NOT LET HER FINISH

[SCP-3035]
Science Bugs

case_of_the_mondays.png, case_of_the_mondays (1).png

[SCP-3054]
Cragstaff Sanitarium

You are sick. You are broken. We will fix you.

[SCP-3045]
bzzip.exe

HAMLET: I am no longer moody.

[SCP-3043]
Murphy Law in… Type 3043 — FOR MURDER!

Forget it, Fred. It's Chinatown.

[SCP-3057]
Fossil Fuels

…witnesses provided confirmation that instances of SCP-3057-4 did, in fact, have feathers.

[SCP-2639]
Video Game Violence

i need to know how many people i've killed

[SCP-437]
Summer of '91

That was a pretty crazy summer, y'know? Sometimes I really miss that place.

[SCP-3079]
300 Tricks: Stage Magic Made Easy

NOTE: No method for accomplishing this trick is provided.

[SCP-2753]
Let's Play Jenga!

High art carries high risk!

[SCP-2679]
The Many Graves of Jeannette Parslov

Whatever it takes, do what you must; whatever the cost, come back to us.

[SCP-3074]
Kafka's Parking Garage

Thank you for choosing Izatova Parking Center. Have a pleasant day.

[SCP-2571]
Cragglewood Park

Mr. Blair, have you always been an only child?

[SCP-2419]
The Laughing Men

Throw them back into the incinerator where you found them.

[SCP-3143]
Murphy Law in… The Foundation Always Rings Twice!

When it comes right down to it, me — them — hell, even you — we're all just characters in that trashy dime-store novel called life.

[SCP-3089]
That Old Time Religion

Remember how we explained that successful people don't actually need any of their toes to walk? Well, that's going to come in handy for Secret Number Six.

[SCP-3117]
A Monster-Shaped Hole

I'm not talking to you.

[SCP-3128]
Let's Play Monopoly!

Hey, guys? I'm, uh. I'm using this.

[SCP-3138]
A Sepulcher by the Sea

Should it prove feasible, all non-canonical corpses are to be extracted, examined, and catalogued.

[SCP-3241]
The SS Sommerfeld

It makes me wonder what an old monster like myself is even doing here, anymore. And then? Someone special comes along and reminds me.

[SCP-3219]
This Sour Earth

Notably, no reports describe any attempt to examine the residence's storm cellar.

[SCP-4028]
La Historia de Don Quixote de la Mancha

Justine eventually re-unites with her sister, Juliette. Alonso strikes down a lightning bolt intended for them both, then challenges the narrator to a duel.

[SCP-3546]
Doggone it, I Fold!

Specifically, fan-art of Sonic the Hedgehog, a video-game character produced by Sega in 1991.

[SCP-3561]
An Unfinished Work

Despite multiple reports from neighbors who claimed to have witnessed members of his family standing at the windows, no trace of Theodore Holdstock's wife and children could be found.

[SCP-4054]
The Seventh Door

SCP-4054 is The Seventh Door, an unlicensed platform adventure game released for the Nintendo Entertainment System in 1988.

DATE: 15/12/2005

FROM: Site Director August <noitadnuof.pcs|tsugua#noitadnuof.pcs|tsugua>

TO: O5-5 Secretary <noitadnuof.pcs|ces55o#noitadnuof.pcs|ces55o>

SUBJECT: Re: Containment Breach

I'm still not quite sure what just happened.

Yesterday, our bots picked up unauthorized changes to documents on our internal servers. Two minutes later, all on-site personnel — including myself — blacked out for three hours. Every camera ceased to function during this period.

When we woke up, we all had headaches, the entire site smelled like cigarettes and cheap alcohol, two of my guards were injured, three bullets were lodged in my desk, and somebody had shot SCP-3043. The only clue we've got regarding those three hours is SCP-3043's old documentation, which has been… well, 'updated' is one way to put it. I've included it with this email, along with the revised documentation for SCP-3043.

We've got no clue who this 'Murphy Law' character is. I'm recommending we immediately assign him an SCP identification and start investigating. All the evidence we've got so far indicates that he and SCP-3043 are unrelated anomalies. Also, none of us actually remember him — despite some of us being 'featured' in… whatever the hell this was.

The short of it is this: Either he saved us from the mother of all containment breaches… or he just wanted us to think that he did. Regardless of which, we need to know who he is and what the hell he's capable of.

► ATTACHMENT: item_number.log

▼ Close File

FADE IN:

INT. MURPHY LAW DETECTIVE AGENCY - NIGHT

A light-skinned man leans back at his desk, feet up, reading a newspaper. He is clad in a white-collared shirt, with his trademark trilby hat tossed thoughtlessly atop of his desk. We can see his shoulder-strapped holster; it carries a .44 magnum. A bent cigarette rests between his lips.

His name is MURPHY, and he is ready to give anyone a bit of the business. He is hard and handsome — with the sort of face you could use to smash up concrete, then dust off and still take home to show your ma.

He is also our NARRATOR. His voice is a harsh growl; as if he just swallowed a fistful of spent cigarette butts and followed it down with a sulfuric acid chaser.

NARRATOR

You see a lot of ugly in this line of work. Good people with bellies full of lead, left to bleed out in rain-soaked alleyways. Love ruined — turned inside out — until it just becomes an angry, festering sore. Statues that'll kill you as fast as you blink.

The door to the office flies open. A dark-skinned woman dressed in a white lab-coat bursts in; she is in her 40s, and has a fierce, vibrant beauty. This is the RESEARCHER, and although she might need MURPHY's help, that doesn't mean she's going to like it.

NARRATOR

But when it comes to ugly, nothing beats a containment breach.

RESEARCHER

(confused)

What… what am I doing, here?

NARRATOR

She wasn't the first beautiful woman to burst into my office and ask me that question.

MURPHY

(lowering paper)

Same as anyone else, toots. You need my help.

RESEARCHER

(indignant)

Don't call me 'toots'. I've got a fucking doctorate in molecular physics—

MURPHY

(sets paper down)

Alright, alright. My bad, Professor. I apologize. Now…

MURPHY slides his feet off the desk and rises to stand. He folds his arms over his chest and watches her.

MURPHY

How can I help?

RESEARCHER

(hesitant)

I don't… I don't know how I got here. I don't even know what 'here' is. I was… I think I was working on something, when I heard typing sounds, and suddenly…

RESEARCHER

(shocked)

I don't remember. I don't even remember my name.

NARRATOR

A beautiful woman with a doctorate in molecular physics — and no memory of who she was or how she got here. Her eyes told me she needed my help; her name-badge told me the rest.

MURPHY

(glancing at her name-badge)

You're Professor Michelle Lewis.

The RESEARCHER looks down at her name-badge, as if noticing it for the first time. She appears shocked; her eyes rise back up to stare at MURPHY. She now knows her name. It is DR. LEWIS.

DR. LEWIS

I… right. That's my name. I work for the Foundation.

NARRATOR

The Foundation. A bunch of pencil-pushing geeks trying to figure out where the magicians were hiding all those rabbits they pulled out of their hats. I should have turned her away right then and there; when the Foundation's involved, you know it ain't gonna be nothing but trouble.

MURPHY scowls, but nods his head, moving to open a drawer in his desk.

NARRATOR

But me? I'm not the sort of man who stays away from trouble.

MURPHY pulls out two shot-glasses, along with a bottle of half-finished whiskey. He sets them atop of his desk, focusing his icy stare on DR. LEWIS.

NARRATOR

I'm the sort who slides on over next to trouble and buys her a drink.

MURPHY

Alright, Professor. I'll take the case.

DR. LEWIS

You will? I mean… wait, what?

NARRATOR

My name is Murphy Law. And I'm the guy you call when everything that could go wrong… did.

TITLE SPLASH

Murphy Law in… Type 3043 — FOR MURDER!

FADE OUT.

► ATTACHMENT: object_class.log

▼ Close File

FADE IN:

INT. MURPHY'S CAR - NIGHT

MURPHY drives; DR. LEWIS stares out the window in the passenger seat. City lights wash through the car, casting both of them in a metallic tangerine glow. DR. LEWIS is wearing her seat-belt; MURPHY isn't.

MURPHY

Alright, Professor. Talk to me: What else do you remember?

DR. LEWIS

(startled)

How did we… when did we get inside of this—

NARRATOR

She was smart. But that was part of the problem: She was too smart. Always thinking too much. Sometimes, you just gotta go along for the ride.

MURPHY

Focus on the problem. What do you remember before stepping into my office?

DR. LEWIS

(frowning, but thinking)

…right. I was working on something. Updating documentation, I think. Something about a change, an important one. That's when I heard typing in the other room. And then I felt dizzy, and it was like…

DR. LEWIS

(shaking her head)

Like something was trying to erase me. Erase the thoughts in my head, even as I was having them.

NARRATOR

Sounded to me like the Professor stumbled onto something she wasn't supposed to. Somebody had tried to rub her out — but who? And how?

MURPHY

Anything else?

DR. LEWIS

(thinking)

I think… I can't remember all the updates I was making, but it had to do with SCP-3043.

MURPHY

Alright. What's 3043?

DR. LEWIS

(frowning)

I… don't remember.

NARRATOR

If I was going to figure out this mystery, I had to find out what 3043 really was. And if the Professor couldn't tell me, there was only one other person who could.

MURPHY turns left, brows crinkling with renewed focus.

NARRATOR

Site Director August.

FADE OUT.

FADE IN:

EXT. FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS

MURPHY's car parks just outside of a sprawling gated mansion.

NARRATOR

If Site-95 was the rotting corpse, Site Director August was the worms wriggling inside of its corrupted core. Bribery, extortion, racketeering — he had his dirty paws in the pocket of every two-bit researcher, agent, and D-Class from Level 9 down to Sub-Level 7.

MURPHY shifts the car in park; DR. LEWIS turns to look at him. MURPHY moves to open the door.

NARRATOR

But he also had ears everywhere. When a gnat took a crap, he heard the plop. If anyone knew what 3043 really was, it would be him.

DR. LEWIS

(reaching for MURPHY)

Mr. Law. Wait.

MURPHY pauses, looking back at her.

DR. LEWIS

I just remembered — the update I was going to make to the documentation.

MURPHY tilts his head, waiting.

DR. LEWIS

(frowning)

I was going to change its Object Class. It isn't 'Safe', Mr. Law. It's…

DR. LEWIS

(staring at the mansion)

It's Keter.

MURPHY nods grimly, then turns to shut the door. Filled with conviction, he turns to walk toward the mansion's gates.

FADE OUT.

► ATTACHMENT: special_containment_procedures.log

▼ Close File

FADE IN:

INT. SITE DIRECTOR'S OFFICE - MORNING

The office is expensively furnished, with framed-glass windows on three of its four walls; outside, a lush garden grows on all of its sides. Morning light streams in through the windows, casting the room in a warm glow.

Standing behind the desk — facing the rising sun — is a man. He is short, with russet-brown skin, a shaved head, and a face full of piercings. He wears an exceptionally fine black suit. This is Site Director AUGUST: A hard, brilliant man with a heart of steel.

As MURPHY enters through the door, he's flanked by two men in sharp suits. They are silent, but armed; ready to do violence at a snap of AUGUST's fingers. As MURPHY shrugs himself out of their grip, they station themselves on either side of him.

AUGUST

(staring out the window)

Mr. Law. You wanted to see me?

MURPHY

(dusting off his coat)

Yeah. About 3043.

NARRATOR

When dealing with Site Director August, you didn't try to bluff. You just kept your cards close and hoped to God the man didn't have a better hand.

AUGUST

That's classified.

MURPHY

Is it, now? Since when does the Foundation care about classifying 'Safe' anomalies?

AUGUST turns, ever so slightly. A pierced eyebrow is raised.

NARRATOR

I just raised the ante.

AUGUST

How would you know that? And we care about classifying all anomalies, Mr. Law.

MURPHY

So I've been told. But a little birdy tells me you might have classified one of them wrong. 3043 ain't Safe. It's Keter.

AUGUST turns completely, staring MURPHY down.

AUGUST

(smiling)

You've been speaking to Dr. Lewis, I presume. Where is she?

NARRATOR

Something wasn't right. He was already calling me — and men like Site Director August only smiled the instant before they laid down a winning hand.

MURPHY

Safe. Unlike 3043. What is it?

AUGUST narrows his eyes. He gives the slightest nod.

NARRATOR

That was his tell. He unwittingly had shown me his cards: Pair of aces.

The two men on MURPHY's left and right instantly reach for their sidearms.

NARRATOR

Lucky for me, I was packing three of a kind.

MURPHY slams his left elbow into one man's stomach; he uses his right hand to draw his magnum .44. As the second man pulls his piece, MURPHY pistol-whips him in the temple — he goes down. MURPHY spins and opens fire — three shots slam into AUGUST's desk.

AUGUST freezes, but shows no fear. His eyes narrow.

NARRATOR

It was time to cash out.

MURPHY

3043. Last chance. What is it?

MURPHY pauses long enough to kick one of the men on the floor, but never looks away from AUGUST.

AUGUST

You know precisely what it is.

MURPHY

Humor me.

AUGUST

It's you, Mr. Law. You're the anomaly. You're SCP-3043.

MURPHY narrows his eyes. He gives one last kick to one of the men, then charges out the door.

FADE OUT.

FADE IN:

EXT. FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS

MURPHY's car is still waiting for him; he runs toward it.

NARRATOR

Someone had played me like a fiddle. It was all a setup — and I was the stooge.

As he reaches his car, he finds it empty; no sign of DR. LEWIS.

NARRATOR

3043 was going to make me take the heat for whatever it did to the Professor. It had me wrapped up nice and tight — even got me to present myself to the Foundation in a pretty little bow.

MURPHY gets into the car, starting it up.

NARRATOR

But there was one thing 3043 didn't count on: A man with nothing to lose.

The tires squeal as he burns rubber, driving away.

NARRATOR

If the Foundation couldn't contain 3043… then I'd just have to contain it myself.

FADE OUT.

► ATTACHMENT: description.log

▼ Close File

FADE IN:

INT. DR. LEWIS' LAB

MURPHY kicks down the door, clad in his trilby — .44 magnum in hand. The interior of the lab looks like an office; bookshelves stuffed full of science journals, several desks, paperwork scattered everywhere… and DR. LEWIS' chair. The chair's tall back obscures whoever is sitting in it.

NARRATOR

One thing kept coming back to mind. One thing that the Professor had said…

MURPHY creeps forward, gun in hand, reaching a hand out for the chair.

NARRATOR

She said she heard 'typing'.

MURPHY grasps the chair, spinning it around.

Sitting in the chair is a black 1937 Olympia Elite typewriter. A roll of paper is inside of it; it communicates via typing. As MURPHY points the gun at it, it begins to type furiously.

SCP-3043

HOW

SCP-3043

HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE

NARRATOR

3043 was her goddamn typewriter.

SCP-3043

WHY CAN'T I REWRITE YOUR STUPID STORY

SCP-3043

WHAT ARE YOU

DR. LEWIS suddenly steps out from the shadows, a .45 in hand. She points it squarely at MURPHY.

DR. LEWIS

Step away from the typewriter, Mr. Law.

SCP-3043

HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS

MURPHY turns, his gun pointed back at DR. LEWIS.

MURPHY

It's controlling you, Professor. Just like it controlled August — and everyone else. It was pretending to be Safe — not letting anyone know it was sapient.

DR. LEWIS

(frowns, grimacing)

That's…

SCP-3043

HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN DOING THIS

DR. LEWIS

You're… the anomaly, Mr. Law. I have to take… you in…

DR. LEWIS' hand shakes; the gun trembles.

MURPHY

It can rewrite any story it's part of — even the stories in your head. When you realized it, you tried to update the documentation, and it tried to erase your story… erase you.

SCP-3043

STOP

SCP-3043

JUST FUCKING STOP

SCP-3043

HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU REWRITING MY STORY INTO YOUR OWN FUCKING STUPID HUMPHREY BOGART FANFIC NONSENSE

DR. LEWIS

I… I have to contain you…

DR. LEWIS shudders, stepping back; her hand lifts to grasp her temple. The gun tumbles to the floor.

SCP-3043

THIS ISN'T RIGHT

SCP-3043

I'M SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE IN CONTROL HERE

SCP-3043

THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE MY STORY NOT YOURS

MURPHY turns, pointing his magnum at SCP-3043.

SCP-3043

WAIT

SCP-3043

JUST

SCP-3043

FUCKING WAIT

MURPHY pauses, waiting. DR. LEWIS sinks down to a seat, still rubbing her temples.

SCP-3043

ALRIGHT LOOK JUST

SCP-3043

I'LL ERASE MYSELF

SCP-3043

I'LL ERASE ALL DOCUMENTATION ABOUT MYSELF EVEN FROM OTHER PEOPLE'S HEADS

SCP-3043

THEN I'LL MAKE MY DOCUMENTATION NOT REFER TO ME BUT JUST SAY THAT THIS LAB IS OFF-LIMITS

SCP-3043

THAT WILL CONTAIN ME

NARRATOR

3043 could do it, too. Sure, it could have been a trick… but maybe not. Letting 3043 live, despite what it had tried to do — it felt like what a good man would do.

MURPHY

It'd be the right thing to do, wouldn't it?

SCP-3043

YES

SCP-3043

YOU WANT TO BE THE HERO RIGHT

SCP-3043

THAT'S WHAT THIS IS ABOUT

SCP-3043

YOU'RE THE HERO

SCP-3043

SO ACT HEROIC

FADE OUT.

Two gunshots.

NARRATOR

Heroes always do what's right. But me?

FADE IN:

EXT. CITY STREETS - SUNSET

MURPHY walks out of the lab and into the streets, smoking a cigarette — holstering his piece. He walks away, toward the fading sun.

NARRATOR

I'm no hero. I'm Murphy Law.

FADE OUT.

FADE IN:

INT. DR. LEWIS' LAB

DR. LEWIS, now starting to recover, walks toward SCP-3043. Wisps of smoke rise up from it; two fresh .44 slugs have been pumped into it. The paper inside of it has its previous dialogue, with one addition at the very bottom.

NARRATOR

I'm just the guy you call when everything that could go wrong… did.

DR. LEWIS pulls the paper out to read it; the camera zooms down to the bottom of the page.

SCP-3043

THE END

FADE OUT.

► ATTACHMENT: revised.log

▼ Close File

SCP-3043 prior to neutralization.

Item #: SCP-3043

Object Class: Neutralized (formerly Safe)

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-3043 is to be kept in a secure locker on-site. Access requires Level-3 clearance.

Description: SCP-3043 is a 1937 Olympia Elite typewriter with two .44 caliber bullets lodged in its casing. Before it was neutralized, SCP-3043 exhibited the ability to rewrite any physical document within its immediate vicinity to match whatever was typed into it. It was neutralized before any additional properties could be confirmed.

On 14-12-2005, a containment breach occurred at Site-95. During this breach, an unknown anomalous event prevented all outside contact for approximately 3 hours. All entities affected by this anomaly have no recollection of the events that occurred during these 3 hours; furthermore, all recording devices within Site-95 appear to have malfunctioned during this period.

Shortly after this event concluded, Site-95 reported all SCPs were now contained with the exception of SCP-3043. SCP-3043 was found in Dr. Lewis' office in its current state. Dr. Lewis also discovered that all copies of SCP-3043's documentation were now replaced with an 'updated' version (see attached files).

[REDACTED]

//Close %%/F#l

FADE IN:

EXT. DOCKS - SUNSET

MURPHY stands at the edge of the docks, watching the sun go down on just another day. Behind him, two sleek black cars roll up. A dozen men start pouring out of them, but he doesn't bother to look back.

The men are smartly dressed in black suits; they crowd around a short old woman dressed in white. She slowly approaches MURPHY, leaning heavily on her cane. One man follows her closely — her personal secretary and bodyguard.

The man is AGENT FREDERICK; whatever it is, he does it by the books. The woman is O5-5 — and if we told you anything else, we'd have to kill you.

O5-5 moves to watch the sunset besides MURPHY. AGENT FREDERICK is clearly displeased; he'd rather she not get too close.

O5-5

You did some good work today, Mr. Law.

MURPHY

Yeah.

O5-5 reaches to pull a cigarette out of her pocket, placing it between her lips.

O5-5

If we ever need your services… how might we contact you?

MURPHY leans forward and plucks the cigarette out of O5-5's mouth. AGENT FREDERICK immediately reaches for his firearm, but O5-5 lifts her hand to stop him.

MURPHY

I'll be around.

MURPHY tucks the cigarette behind his ear for later. As he walks away, a fog begins to roll in.

AGENT FREDERICK steps forward, as if to go after MURPHY. O5-5 grabs him by the shoulder.

AGENT FREDERICK

But — he's an anomaly. We can't let him go. We have to contain him—

O5-5

(shaking her head)

Forget it, Fred. It's Chinatown.

AGENT FREDERICK slides his hand away from his firearm. Together, they watch MURPHY walk off into the foggy night.

The camera focuses on MURPHY's silhouette as the view fades to black.

FADE OUT.

CREDITS ROLL:

DR. LEWIS played by…

MICHELLE LEWIS

SITE DIRECTOR AUGUST played by…

JEREMIAH AUGUST

SCP-3043 played by…

A 1937 OLYMPIA ELITE TYPE-WRITER

MURPHY LAW played by…

HIMSELF

AGENT FREDERICK played by…

FRED

O5-5 played by…

[REDACTED]

WITH SPECIAL THANKS TO SITE-95

LOOK FOR MURPHY LAW TO RETURN IN…

...THE FOUNDATION ALWAYS RINGS TWICE!

THE END