6. Embedded Field Operative Ashley Peterson was able to terminate 
one instance with small arms fire. The other instances did not react 
to the death of said instance, and continued towards Crater Lake. 


SCP-3311: All the Little Chairs 


Item #: SCP-3311 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-3311 is to be kept closed 
and locked at all times. No personnel are to enter SCP-3311 for any 
reason other than for testing purposes. The facility containing 
SCP-3311 should be monitored for any suspicious activity and 
patrolled by a Foundation agent posed as a security guard. 


Description: SCP-3311 refers to a storage unit located in ; 
Florida. SCP-3311 appears nondescript and identical to adjacent 
units which are affixed in rows, making relocation impossible. 


SCP-3311 contains a spatial anomaly, extending far past its physical 
constraints allow and appearing without limit. At this time, 
exploration has reached approximately 585 km into the anomaly, 
during which no apparent end was observed. SCP-331 1's interior 
turns on a slight bend, making long range viewing difficult. Visual 
broadcasting deteriorates rapidly within the anomaly, prompting the 
usage of relays to help extend the range of reception. GPS 
positioning fails to trace individuals who pass beyond 5 meters of 
the entrance, approximately halfway into the unit were it possessing 
correct internal dimensions. Tracking signal is not lost; it remains at 
the halfway point until it passes out of range of reception or is 
disconnected via other means. 


SCP-3311 is hypothesized to have a minor cognitohazardous effect 
on sentient life, the full scope of which is still under analysis. 


The walls of SCP-3311's interior are lined with cubic compartments 
of varying size1, each bearing a glass panel with a magnetic lock on 
the top side. All compartments contain an instance of SCP-3311-1. 


SCP-3311-1 is the designation for the anomalous collection of chairs 


found within the unit. Each chair is seemingly unique, with none of 
the approximately three million chairs observed repeating. 
SCP-3311-1 instances have been shown to match other chairs 
found outside of the anomaly, suggesting that SCP-3311 may 
contain a copy of every chair in physical existence. SCP-331 1-1 
instances will always be a chair in some form, although the concept 
of chair within SCP-3311 is found to be slightly looser and more 
adaptable than other places in reality. Some notable instances of 
SCP-3311-1: 


¢ An Egyptian throne dated at approximately years old 

« Acustom, monogrammed office chair matching that of Site-88 
Director A. Lewis 

* Areplica of SCP-16093 

¢ An IKEA-brand bean bag chair 

¢ Perfectly uprooted wooden stumps/large rocks 

* A mahogany chair made of other, smaller mahogany chairs 


SCP-3311 was brought to the Foundation's attentionon / / after 
it was repossessed due to nonpayment. A small media coverup was 
deployed and the owners and employees of the facility were 
amnesticised before editing their records to place the unit under 
Foundation ownership. The previous owner was traced to a 
retirement home in nearby before being taken in for 
questioning‘. 


Addendum 3311.1 Exploration Logs: 
+ ACCESS EXPL-3311-A.log 
Exploration Log 3311-A 
Subject: D-9082 


Notes: This was the first conducted 
exploration of SCP-3311. At this point in time, 
audiovisual surveillance degraded within ~3km 
of the entrance to the anomaly. One D-Class 
personnel was equipped with a shoulder- 
mounted camera and a pack containing three 
days' worth of provisions, a set of twenty-four 


600-hour micro relays with a range of 10km, 
and a small medkit and was sent to observe 
the inside of SCP-3311. 


<BEGIN LOG> 


Camera comes live, D-9082 ducking under the 
door before it is retracted and locked from the 
outside. The interior is moderately lit by 
unknown means. 


D-9082: Did they just lock me in here? 


Control: It's a safety precaution. They will be 
standing just outside, don't worry. 


D-9082: If you say so. This place is- whoa, 
okay. Chairs. 


Control: Observant. Please proceed. 


D-9082 walks down the pathway, taking extra 
time to look around. The interior is quiet, the 
only noise being D-9082's footsteps on the 
concrete floor. 


D-9082: They're all different, huh? Odd 
collector, maybe? 


Subject continues in this manner for some time 
without much event. 


Control: Do you notice anything out of the 
ordinary with any of the chairs themselves? 


D-9082: Uh, let's see, let me try- 


Subject is seen attempting to open one of the 
compartments, it appears locked. She tries 
another and it does not yield. 


D-9028: Should | break the glass? 
Control: No. 


D-9082: Oh, there's something here on the leg 
of this chair. An inscription or something? 


The words "FLOOR MODEL" can be seen 
etched into the leg. 


D-9082: 'Floor model’. Was it stolen, perhaps? 
Oh, wait- look. 


The next chair appears to have the same 
inscription, and the next. 


D-9082: Huh. | don't get it. Should | keep 
going? 


Control: Yes, continue. You are nearing on 
the three kilometer mark, please place and 
activate one of your relays. 


Subject does not respond but retrieves one of 
the devices from her pack and presses a small 
button on its side. 


D-9082: Like that? 
Control: Just like that. You're linked up. 
D-9082: Great. 


Subject proceeds in silence for the next twenty 
minutes, briefly pausing to look at various 
chairs. 


D-9082: | mean, is this it? Just one big loop of 
chairs? | guess that beats some of the other 
stuff you guys get into. [pause] Hey, | 
recognize that one. 


Subject is seen approaching an average- 
looking kitchen chair, featuring a faded, gray 
cushion. 


D-9082: My grandmother had those. It even 
has the coffee stains. And- yup, 'Floor model’, 
right on the side. 


D-9082: | don't know if | like this place, | don't 
like them. 


Control: They are just chairs. Please, 
continue. 


Subject takes a few breaths and continues 
forward. The next fifty kilometers pass without 
incident or change in layout, D-9082 activating 
new relays every ten. Subject rests for a bit 
and eats before continuing onward. 


D-9082: God, | just can't stop thinking about 
chairs now. There has to be billions of chairs 
on this planet. They might outnumber humans. 
Good lord. We'd never win. 


Control: Do | need to remind you that chairs 
are inanimate? 


D-9082: No- no [chuckles] | mean, even if they 
were- 


A loud scraping noise cuts off D-9082. She 
spins around but the tunnel is empty. 


D-9082: What the fuck was that. 
Control: We heard it too, stay on your guard. 
D-9082: Yeah. 


Subject continues for another forty kilometers 
over the next twelve hours without incident, 


although D-9082 is clearly nervous. A low hum 
is picked up, not dissimilar to magnetostriction. 


D-9082: | just realized, there are no vents in 
here. The air isn't stale like | would think. It 
isn't fresh, either, more like, clean, maybe? 
Sterile. Yeah, that's a better word for it. 


Control: Noted. Please let us know if you 
begin to feel lightheaded or unwell. 


D-9082 continues for a short while longer 
before setting up camp. Subject removes 
camera and places it by her side, leaving it 
running. Nothing eventful happens for the next 
several hours, aside from one brief period an 
hour in where the same scraping noise can be 
heard in the distance. Subject wakes and 
consumes some rations before setting off. 


D-9082: Slept poorly. Dreamt of chairs. | sat 
on one and it tried to eat me. Spent the rest of 
the dream doing my best not to sit down. 


Control: It's understandable you would be 
experiencing this as a reaction to being in such 
a foreign environment. We'll have you back out 
here good as new in no time. 


D-9082: Thanks. 


Subject continues walking to the two hundred 
kilometer mark, passing a large chair made of 
solid jade and inspecting it but quickly avoiding 
it. 


D-9082: This thing is making my head hurt, 
god, there's just way too much chair in one 
place here. 


Control: Can you elaborate on that? 


little bastard had crawled right in and replaced the ink. | have to 
admit, though, it was quite amusing. Think I’m going to teach it to 
play Pictionary next week.” 


-Dr. Montgomery 
FILES #424-5~424-10: 


[ACCESS PERMISSION REQUIRED] 
[CONTACT PROJECT ADMINISTRATOR] 


D-9082: It's like- you Know how when you 
have a bunch of friends, and you've all been 
friends for so long, you start to borrow things 
about them, things that you admire? Traits. 
Like you might start using my catchphrase or 
something, and | might borrow that thing you 
do so well. 


Control: | don't see how this has to do with- 


D-9082: You rub off on people, you interact 
with them and leave a lasting impression that 
grows over time. And the more of them there 
are that behave in a certain way, the more 
likely they are to borrow those traits. A positive 
feedback loop of reaffirmations. 


Control: Please try to be more specific about 
how exactly this relates to these chairs? 


D-9082: Don't you see, it's more than just the 
object. It's the idea and the object and we are 
the idea- 


Feed is lost abruptly as the relay at the 53km 
mark stops functioning. Contact with D-9082 is 
not reestablished for another two days, after 
which D-9082 appears within range of the 
43km point and heading back. 


Control: D-9082, we lost contact with you, 
please report your status. 


D-9082: Oh, finally. The feed went dead, but | 
laid the rest out. Should be good to go. Just 
get me the hell out of here. Now. 


Control: Alright. We can do that, you're almost 
back. 


Egress from SCP-3311 was uneventful and 


has been redacted from this document for 
brevity. Subject appears healthy physically but 
suffers from mild PTSD and exhibits a strong 
aversion to chairs. Subject displays symptoms 
of kathisophobia? and requires sedation before 
sleep. 


+ ACCESS EXPL-3311-B.log 
Exploration Log 3311-B 
Subject: D-7820 


Notes: This is the second attempted 
exploration of SCP-3311. Relays were set up 
to the 254km point from the last test, but the 
malfunction at the 53km relay required 
replacement before that point could be 
reached. One D-Class personnel was 
equipped with an identical pack as previous, 
including two extra days' worth of rations, and 
was sent into SCP-3311. 


<BEGIN LOG> 


Camera comes online, D-7820 already 
heading down the passage. 


D-7820: [laughs] They said | was going to look 
at chairs today? Like, some bigger-on-the- 
inside art gallery bullshit, right? And | get here 
and, look at that! Just a bunch of chairs. Is that 
all there is to this place? 


Control: Yes, something like that. 


D-7820: Look, I'm not an artsy guy, | don't 
know what | should be looking for here. 
[pauses] 'Floor model’. Like, what, a 
showroom? | guess that makes sense, right? A 


catalog? 


Control: Please continue until anything 
notable occurs. 


D-7820 treads in silence for the next several 
hours, taking a break some time after. 


D-7820: You know what | would really like right 
now? I'd like to sit down on a chair. Not this 
awful concrete. Isn't that some special little 
hell, being surrounded by chairs but not being 
able to take a seat? 


Control: [indecipherable, off-mic] Uh, sure. 
Yeah. We say you try and get one of the chairs 
out of their compartments. Feel free to attempt 
to break the glass. 


D-7820: Alright, then. 


D-7820 attempts to open the compartment 
door to a cushioned chair, which does not 
yield. Subject kicks the glass, causing it to 
shatter. D-7820 retrieves the chair, but drops it 
in surprise when a loud alarm is heard blaring 
from an unknown location, falling silent a 
moment later. 


D-7820: You guys totally screwed me on this 
one, didn't you? 


Control: I'm sure you'll be fine. 


Taking several moments to make sure nothing 
was coming, D-7820 sits on the chair, which 
appears to exhibit no detrimental effects. 


D-7820: Just give me a few minutes. This is 
nice. 


A few minutes later, subject continues. 


D-7820: | wish | could take it with me, to be 
honest. 


D-7820 travels unabated for the next eleven 
hours before setting up camp and resting at 
the 53km mark. Subject replaces the relay, 
which appears to have been crushed, 
reestablishing contact with the rest of the 
chain. Afterwards, they remove the camera 
and sleep for the next few hours. Progression 
to the 100km mark takes place all throughout 
the next day. Subject pauses at a 
compartment containing a toilet, then shakes 
his head and continues on. 


D-7820: Now you tell me. 


At around the 125km point, the same buzzing 
noise is picked up in the audio feedback. 
Subject does not seem aware of this. 


D-7820: | can't believe how many chairs there 
are here. I'm kind of getting sick of them, to be 
honest. 


Camera feedback picks up the sound of 
several large bangs in the distance. 


D-7820: [quietly] Shit. Ils someone else in 
here? I've been out here for two days, can't | 
come back now? I'm beginning to worry | 
might have pissed something off. 


Control: Negative. You have been lagging 
behind the previous subject, who was nearing 
the two hundred kilometer mark by this point. 
They are currently fine; please keep walking. 


Subject is heard muttering to himself and 
proceeds onward with moderate reluctance. 
Nothing of interest happens for the next forty 


minutes, after which D-7820 stops abruptly. 
D-7820: | hear something. 


Audio feedback picks up the sound of a 
rhythmic creaking noise. Subject approaches 
the source cautiously, rounding the bend to 
reveal a single rocking chair situated in the 
pathway. Chair is not moving, the noise having 
ceased abruptly. 


D-7820: Oh, sure, that's not foreboding. Has 
that happened before? 


Control: [indicipherable, off-mic] No. No, that's 
new. Proceed with caution. 


D-7820: Don't have to tell me twice. 


Subject takes a wide berth around the chair, 
which does not move again. D-7820 is seen 
moving quickly, reaching the 200km point and 
passing the previous record by the next day. 
Subject sets up camp, unpacking their 
backpack and setting several rations and the 
set of relays on top while presumably taking 
stock of remaining provisions. Turning away 
for an unknown reason, the buzzing noise is 
heard increasing in intensity. 


D-7820: | wonder if chairs play musical chairs 
with other chairs. Or maybe they'd sit on 
people? [laughs] What a dumb thought to 
have, I- wait. 


Camera swings back around to reveal the 
backpack missing, the contents now laying on 
a bare floor. 


D-7820: What the fuck? Is someone screwing 
with me? 


Silence, aside from the persistent buzzing 
noise. 


D-7820: Who would steal an empty bag? | 
hate this place. 


Control: Noted. You have a few days left, then 
you're home free. 


D-7820: Easy for you to say. 


Subject attempts to sleep for a few hours, 
which appears futile. They are seen rousing 
themselves and heading out a short while 
later. At the 270km point, the path turns into a 
section containing the same chair in two 
hundred different colors. Subject rests briefly. 


D-7820: Fucking art, man. Fucking chairs. 


Progressing further, control notes that the 
quality and exactness of SCP-3311-1 
instances as "chairs" begins to fluctuate. 
Compartments are seen containing rocks, 
piles of various detritus and small desks. 
D-7820 continues but stops abruptly. 


D-7820: You've gotta be kidding me. 


Camera turns to look at a nearby compartment 
which contains an identical replica of the 
Foundation-issue backpack that D-7820 lost 
the previous day, sans rations. A small tag 
hanging off the bottom reads 'FLOOR 

MODEL '’. 


D-7820: |I- | think | get it now. 
Control: Yes? 


D-7820: What if my backpack also became a 
chair? 


Control: How so?