Procedure: D-837 entered SCP-818's enclosure at the same time 
as all previous tests, only having replaced the previous crayons with 
finger paints of the same colors. SCP-818 was initially hesitant, but 
eventually changed the color of the yellow paint to green, as in all 
previous tests. SCP-818 proceeded to paint for several minutes 
until, at : P.M, it ceased and proceeded to the wall of the 
enclosure, beginning to follow it as usual. D-837 exited the 
enclosure. 

Details: D-837 has been experiencing an increase in the symptoms 
of SCP-818 exposure. After the small change in today's schedule, 
D-837's vision is entirely tinted green. 


On September 17, 20 , D-837 was killed during a breach of SCP- 
The next day, when D-837 did not appear in its containment unit, 
SCP-818 became extremely agitated, resulting in [DATA 
REDACTED], causing the death of two research subjects currently 
contained in its effect radius. Replacement for D-837 may be 
necessary. 


Date: September 20, 20 

Subject: Finger painting 

Procedure: D-18274 entered SCP-818's enclosure at the same 
time as all previous tests with both the crayons and the finger paints. 


"About three times the normal dose,” the redhead sighed, pushing 
Strelnikov away and buttoning up her shirt. "This guy was 
motorboating me all the way to the end, too." 


"Well, we're done now," sighed the blonde. "Now it's time for the 
boys to do their work." 


The red convertible pulled into a side street that didn't appear on 
any maps. The black SUV reached them shortly after. 


Wherever they were, it was freezing. They awoke groggily and were 
aware of only the blindfolds and the bindings around their hands and 
feet, the scuffling sounds they made echoing throughout the empty 
concrete room. A door opened and shut from behind them, and they 
heard the sound of boots on pavement approaching and circling 
them. Harsh light assaulted their eyes without warning when the 
blindfolds were abruptly torn off, revealing a trio of unhappy-looking 
men standing before them. They wore crisply pressed and 
immaculately tailored military style uniforms and were backlit by a 
naked incandescent light bulb. 


It took a moment for their eyes to adjust enough to be able to make 
out the GOC insignia printed on their breast pockets. 


“Where the hell are we?” Strelnikov asked, blinking. 


“The data is, shall we say, ‘redacted’, as your people are so fond of 
putting it,” responded one of the men. 


“You gotta be fuckin’ with me,” Clef sighed exasperatedly. 


"No, we are not fucking with you,” the man in the uniform said. He 
pulled up a chair and sat across from the two men. A golden eagle 
insignia on his uniform collar gleamed in the dim light. "We are 
through fucking with you. From this point forward, we are being 
serious." 


He pulled out a silver Zippo lighter with the words 'FUCK 
COMMUNISM ' written on the side and lit up a large, black cigar. 
Clouds of acrid smoke billowed from the stogie, filling the room with 


dense white vapors. "Now," the colonel said. "You are going to tell 
us exactly what you two Foundation personnel were doing heading 
into a GOC operation in progress. What is your game? What are you 
trying to accomplish here?" 


Clef and Strelnikov glanced at each other, then turned back to the 
colonel. "What we're trying to accomplish... how do | put it..." Clef 
muttered. 

"Are trying to relax, get drunk, and wet beaks," Strelnikov said. 

"In no particular order," Clef added. 

"Also am trying to work on tan," Dimitri said. 

"Maybe visit some nice museums or do some wine tasting." 
"Meet nice people." 


"In other words, we're on vacation," Clef concluded. 


The colonel pulled a boot knife from the bag next to him and stuck it, 
point-down, into the table. "Armed pretty heavily for a bunch of guys 
on vacation," the colonel pointed out, taking out a bunch of knives 
and small explosives from the bag next to him and laying them out 
on the table. 


"Actually, we're not,” Clef pointed out. "No guns, for one thing." 


"Da, and only one knife. No hatchet. Left SVD at home," Dimitri 
added. 


"Really, what's a bit of C-4 between friends? Here in Texas, that's 
almost like owning a car." 


"Detonator is not even primed. Am not stupid, don't want blow up 
plane." 


"Really. So... you aren't on a secret mission for the Foundation? 
You aren't the backup called in by a Foundation operative six days 
ago in response to escalating KTE activity?" 


"Not at all." 


"Did not even want to go to Texas," Dimitri insisted. "Wanted go to 
Brazil." 


"Really," murmured the colonel. He gestured to the screen behind 
him. The image of a young man with a black eye, wearing a brightly 
colored hawaiian print shirt, appeared on the screen, flanked by 
gun-toting soldiers. "This is from our Rio de Janeiro office. Does this 
man look familiar?" 


The guy in the hawaiian shirt raised his head groggily and stared at 
the screen. His eyes lit up. "Doctor Clef! Dimitri!" Agent Yoric 
laughed. "Are you here to rescue me?" 


The two men stared at Yoric for a moment, then glanced at each 
other, then looked back at the colonel. "| have never seen or met 
this man in my entire life," Clef lied. 


"Is total stranger," Dimitri said. 
"... you've got to be fucking kidding me," Yoric whimpered. 
"... and what happened after that?" Dr. Glass asked. The 


psychiatrist was resting his chin on his hand, gazing at the three 
men sitting in his office with an expression of spellbound fascination. 


"Well..." Clef said. "We couldn't leave Yoric behind." 


"... SO we break free of captors and gun them all down,” Dmitri 
finished. 


"Then we highjacked a GOC plane..." 

"Boat," Dmitri corrected. 

"Was it a boat?" Clef wondered. "| thought it was a plane..." 
"My report said boat," Dmitri explained pointedly. 


Clef blinked once, very slowly, then smiled. "It was a seaplane." 


"Da," Dmitri said, much relieved. "Seaplane. That explain 
confusion." 


"Yes. So after we highjacked the GOC seaplane, we flew down to 
Rio de Janeiro, found Yoric, and rescued him." 


"| see," Glass said, very slowly. "And this is why you guys were late 
coming back from vacation?" 


"Well, we couldn't just fly back right away," Clef said. 
"GOC was looking for us. Very dangerous." 
"| didn't want to go back to their torture chamber," Yoric whimpered. 


"So, we disguised ourselves as tourists and waited for them to give 
up looking." 


"Disguised... as tourists," Glass repeated. 
"Um... yes. As rich corporate executives on vacation..." 


"| see. And this explains the..." Glass ran an eye down the page of 
the document in front of him. "... six nights at a luxury 4-star hotel, 

five thousand-plus dollars in restaurant and liquor bills, and... good 
lord, you bought HOW many condoms? And why six bikinis?" 


".,. the young ladies forgot theirs," Clef said, "and they didn't want to 
go into the hot tub naked." 


"... Dr. Clef. My dear agents. | was not born yesterday. The 
Foundation Expense Fund is for emergency expenses in the line of 
duty. It is not to be used to fund a week of debauchery on the 
taxpayers’ dollar, and your ludicrous story is both insulting to my 
intelligence and..." 


Simultaneously, as if they had rehearsed this (and perhaps they 
had), the three men reached into the breast pockets of their 
hawaiian shirts and pulled out three newspaper clippings and laid 
them on the desk in front of Glass. 


UNKNOWN HEROES FOIL CHECHEN HIJACKERS 


TEXAS MILITIAMEN FOUND GUNNED DOWN IN DESERT 


BLOODSHED IN RIO! TWO MYSTERY MEN ATTACK BRAZILIAN 
MILITARY BASE 


Glass looked from one newspaper clipping to the other, then back 
up at the three men. 


He saw Yoric point to the rope burn on his wrists. 


He saw Clef lighting up a cigarette with a battered, blood-stained 
Zippo, with the words "FUCK COMMUNISM" engraved on it. 


He saw Strelnikov grin, his mouth full of steel teeth, his broad, slavic 
face the very picture of angelic innocence. 


Dr. Glass took a deep breath and buried his face in his hands. 
"You have to be fucking with me," he moaned. 


END 


Clef Dies 


Disclaimer This was a joke. Please don't shoot me. 


Alto Clef waited. The lights above him blinked and sparked out of 
the air. There were SCPs in the base. He didn't see them, but had 
expected them now for years. His warnings to Docter Broight were 
not listenend to and now it was too late. Far too late for now, 
anyway. 

Clef was a agent for fourteen years. When he was young he 
watched the containment and he said to dad "I want to be in the 
Foundatin daddy." 

Dad said "No! You will BE KILL BY SCPS" 

There was a time when he believed him. Then as he got oldered he 
stopped. But now in the Site base of the Foundation he knew there 
were SCPs. 

"This is Broight" the radio crackered. "You must fight the SCPs!" 
So Clef gotted his palsma rifle and blew up the wall. 

"HE GOING TO KILL US" said the SCPs 

"| will shoot at him" said 682 and he fired the rocket missiles. Clef 
plasmaed at him and tried to blew him up. But then the ceiling fell 
and they were trapped and not able to kill. 

"No! | must kill the SCPs" he shouted 

The radio said "No, Clef. You are the SCPs" 

And then Clef was 076. 


Transcript of Dr. Clef's seminar, "Reality Benders and 
You: How to Survive When Existence Doesn't." 


"Afternoon, everyone. Have a seat. Get a cup of coffee and a muffin. 
Also, a reminder: the Seminar Rooms are a weapons-free zone. 
Please make sure you've surrendered your weapons at the 
reception desk. | Know, it's bullshit, but the last thing | need is an O5 
complaining because one of you was walking around the Blue 
Zones with your piece. Everyone good? Cool." 


"Today's seminar is about a subject near and dear to my heart: 
Reality Benders. Type Greens. Mary Sues. Bixbies, Shapers, 
Wizards, Gods, Devils, Outside Observers, call them what you will, 
these are the guys that change reality based on perception and 
willpower. I've made a career out of both containing and killing these 
guys. You're here to get certified to do the same thing." 


"Want to know my secret? We'll get to that later. First of all, | want 
you to take a look at the doors to the seminar room. Notice 
something about them? Look again. What doors?" 


"Yes. The doors are gone. Take a closer look if you want. Touch 
them. They're not there. The doors have literally disappeared. But 
that's okay, right? You can still get out the windows if you want. 
Except there's one small problem. There aren't any windows in this 
room either, are there? All the windows are gone. There's nothing 
but four blank walls, a ceiling, and a floor. No way out. But how did 
you get in?" 


"Starting to freak out a bit? Don't worry, just take a deep breath. 
You're going to be all right. Just a bit of a change to the way the 
room's set up. It's not like anything worse is happening. | mean, it 
could be worse, right? At least you're safe in here. It's not like the 
desks are coming alive to kill you now, is it? Oh wait, yes they are. 
The FUCKING DESKS ARE GOING TO KILL YOU." 


"What you gonna do? HOW YOU GONNA SURVIVE? THE 


GODDAMN ROOM IS ALIVE AND GOING TO EAT YOU. WATCH 
FOR THOSE FUCKING DESKS, THEY'VE GOT TEETH. GET THE 
FUCK AWAY FROM THERE, NOW. YOU WANNA LIVE? YOU'RE 
GONNA HAVE TO FIGHT! DON'T TRY TO DENY IT, YOU 
MOTHERFUCKERS, THIS IS REAL. THIS IS HAPPENING. THIS IS 
A REALITY BEND, AND YOU'RE GOING TO DIE UNLESS YOU 
CAN FIGHT IT NOW!" 


"Oh, | see, a real TOUGH guy, huh? What the fuck are you gonna 
do with that 9mm? That gun really going to do anything? Against a 
REALITY BENDER!? | can turn your goddamn bullets into sand. | 
can turn your eyes into jello. | can turn your GUN into a fucking 
BAGEL, now PUT THAT DAMN GUN DOWN AND LIE THE FUCK 
DOWN ON THE GROUND, YOU FUCKNUGGET. | AM A LIVING 
GOD, AND YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A FUCKING INSECT!" 


"What do | want? WHAT DO | WANT!? What the shit do | need from 
a fucking turd like you? | don't want ANYTHING that you can give 
me except to be my plaything. And that's ALL you fuckers are gonna 
be! You're gonna be nothing but toys in front of this God-King for all 
eternity. There is NO escape, NO respite. You will LIVE when | say 
LIVE, you will DIE only if | allow it. There is NOTHING LEFT BUT 
MY IMAGINATION, and you are all FIGMENTS OF IT!!!" 


"... all right, hit the lights. Everyone breathe in and out, deep. 
Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out... you feeling better 
now? Let me tell you what just happened." 


"Each and every one of you has just had a bad trip. All of the food 
on that back table was laced with a powerful hallucinogen. It's my 
own personal recipe. In addition to hallucinations, it renders one 
very susceptible to suggestion. Combined with some simple 
hypnosis and some special effects trickery, the end result is as close 
as we can get to showing you what a Reality Bender's attack feels 
like. The support staff are pumping an aerosolized counteragent into 
the air vents as we speak. It's going to feel like shit in a moment. 
You'll find barf bags under your chairs. Take a moment to let it all 
out." 


"| want you to reflect back on that moment when you realized what 
was happening. Do you remember that feeling of helplessness? Do 
you remember what it felt like to realize that reality no longer 
existed, and you were nothing but toys for a hostile will that 
controlled EVERYTHING?" 


"Remember that. And hold onto it the first time you're about to go up 
against a Reality Bender. If you ever think that, maybe, you can 
contain them? Or maybe they can be reasoned with? Remember 
what it felt like when you were tripping balls and nothing was real." 


"Then kill that motherfucker before he knows you're even there." 


"You're all certified now. Class Dismissed." 


Clippings 


U.N, Civil Rights Groups Slam US Military Over 
Controversial Weapons Programs 


(AP, Washington D.C.) — Public outrage has intensified 
as new evidence was leaked in the case of the US 
military's controversial Guided Teleporting Explosives 
(GTE) weapons program and the implication that living 
human test subjects are used in their construction. 


"We've always known that teleportation magic requires a 
living human presence," read a press release by the 
ACLU, "despite all of the assurances from the military 
that their experimental weapons programs are 100% 
ethical. Now that this is out in the open, we can finally do 
the right thing in shutting down the business of building 


‘orphan bombs". 


In a statement released later that day, a spokesman for 
the US Army stated, "Desperate times require desperate 
measures. This is our most promising weapons project to 
date, and it has resulted in a marked reduction in 
pyromancy terror attacks against American cities by 
jihadists. Have we already forgotten the six eastern 
states that have been rendered an_ uninhabitable 
wasteland as a result of al-Qaeda's open, uncontrolled 
hell-gates?" 


See WEAPONS, page 3 


if we can't even protect the ones we love most? 
See NIGHTMARES, page 2 


Charges Filed Against Suspect in Atlanta Earthquake 


D-18274 was chosen for her resemblance to D-837. For the first 
time, SCP-818 chose multiple colors, mixing them together on the 
paper. Additionally, SCP-818 breached its script more severely than 
any other time, coloring for an additional minutes. 

Details: Upon D-18274's emergence from SCP-818's enclosure, 
D-18274 began demonstrating many of the previous habits 
observed in D-837, including [DATA REDACTED] and a tendency to 
whistle show-tunes. After two additional exposures, each mirroring 
the first, D-18274 is essentially the same person as D-837. Blood 
tests confirm apparent genetic match. D-18274 is reclassified as 
D-837. D-837's delay of termination is refiled. 


ADDENDUM SCP-818-00T: Neutralization