Item#: 5381

Containment Class: euclid

Secondary Class: {$secondary-class}

Disruption Class: vlam

Risk Class: caution

Special Containment Procedures: Since the impermanent nature of SCP-5381 instances complicates long-term containment, efforts should concentrate on concealing its existence from the public. In the case of an SCP-5381's manifestation, Mobile Task Force Omega-41 "Fieles Difuntos" should move and set a perimeter around the instance in order to prevent encounters with civilians. Any unauthorized witness should be given Class-A amnestics and released.

Description: SCP-5381 refers to a small population of spectral entities theorized to be a subspecies of Gashadokuro, a yokai entity endemic to Japan1. So far, SCP-5381 manifestations have only been reported in the Soconusco region of Chiapas, México. SCP-5381 is noteworthy for being the second documented sighting of Gashadokuro outside Japan2 and the first documented population external to the island nation.

Similarly to the Japanese Gashadokuro, SCP-5381 instances resemble giant animated human skeletons; the main visual feature distinguishing them is that SCP-5381's bone structure is adorned with patterns resembling traditional Día de Muertos calavera de azúcar3 decorations.

Calaveritas de azúcar. SCP-5381 decorations bear resemblance to these decorative patterns.

SCP-5381 instances are approximately between 25 and 30 meters tall4. Like their Asian counterparts, SCP-5381 can not be photographed. Interestingly, SCP-5381 exhibits a drastically different behavior from the Japanese Gashadokuro. Research on the exact nature and reason for this divergent behavior is still ongoing.

So far 14 SCP-5381 instances have been identified. Each one presents unique physical traits, varying in height, color, and pattern decorations5. Each SCP-5381 individual manifests6 in a different location corresponding to a local cemetery in the Soconusco region of Chiapas, México. These cemeteries belong to towns that were hotspots of Japanese immigration to México during the end of the 19th century and the early 20th century7. It is unknown what conditions originated the SCP-5381 phenomenon and why it is not present in other regions of Mexico with Japanese immigration.

Addendum: The following fragments are from Toraji Kusakado's diary, leader of the Enomoto Colony8, is assumed to be the first record of SCP-5381. Foundation Historians are currently studying historical records in order to obtain a clearer picture of the intercultural exchange that gave rise to SCP-5381's speciation process.

I have brought dishonor to my name and legacy. While malaria took the life of many of my companions, it was my failure at leadership and planning that doomed our harvest. Yesterday, my remaining countrymen decided to leave me. Some were eager to return to our homeland, and others decided to make this land their new home. I have failed them. I failed Lord Enomoto. I failed Japan…

Due to all of my past tribulations, I missed the chance to honor my fallen companions during the Bon9 festival. The Mexicans have a similar tradition on November 2nd so I decided to honor the customs of this land and paid a visit to the local graveyard in the town of Escuintla where my fallen companions rest.

I went to the local market to get the materials for a shoryo-dana10. I had trouble choosing appropriate flowers for the altar since I was still unfamiliar with the local varieties. A merchant kindly explained to me that I should use cempasúchil, the flower of the dead. I still remember her fondly for she was not only a joyful spirit, but she was also donning the most peculiar makeup I have seen in this land. For moments, that makeup make me feel as if I was talking to a shinigami.

I arrived at the cemetery to clean the graves. I built a makeshift shoryo-dana and placed candles and the cempásuchil flowers on it. I lit the candles and left the food offerings: our traditional dishes to remind them of our homeland, but also pan de muerto11 and some one of those curious skull-shaped candies.

I was alone, praying at shoryo-dana when a towering figure emerged from the shadows. I recoiled in fear as I recognized the fearsome Gashadokuro, surely sent by angry spirits to punish me for my failings. I tried to run but my legs were failing me. I tripped on an unmarked grave and fell to the ground and watched in horror as the yokai approached me. I had heard the stories of the Gashadokuro mercilessly biting the head of their unfortunate victims and drinking their blood. I prayed to my ancestors and tried to make peace with my destiny. If being eaten by the yokai was the just punishment for my failing, then so be it.

To my surprise, the Gashadokuro did not eat me. Instead it just stood for a while in front of me, inspecting me in a curious manner that seemed almost child-like, before losing interest and wandering around the tombs. I could not believe what miracle could have convinced the demon to spare me. Had it been some intervention from the Kami?

Eventually, I realized that, in my initial fear, I had failed to notice something important about this Gashadokuro. It was different from the popular legends and paintings I had seen before. It was even different from Hantā's records. I once had the opportunity to read. Its bones, traditionally supposed to be just bare bones, now bore decorations similar to those put in skull-shaped candies used by Mexicans as offerings to honor their dead. At that moment I realized we had brought the Gashadokuro with us. Alongside our hopes and dreams, we carried also our demons. However, this land and its ritual I had partaken in somehow changed the yokai, healing its terrible anger and satiating its infinite hunger.

Seeing this changed creature filled me with a lot of hope, if even the monstrous Gashadokuro could find peace in this place… maybe… then maybe we also have a future here. The decorated Gashadokuro disappeared slowly into the darkness it had emerged. I was left alone again, contemplating the starry night, wondering if I would live to see the day the Rising Sun and the Navel of the Moon finally shine together.

Toraji Kusakado

November 3rd 1897