- Those Thin, Penultimate Hours by Djoric 
- Faith and Knighthood by Nighkos 


Footnotes 

1. Basic edits for spelling, punctuation, formatting, and grammar are 
acceptable. Changes to the actual content are not. 

2. This is just so if both authors want to feature the same type of 
article, we don't have to try to feature them simultaneously. Or if we 
have other, Sekrit, concerns! 


And the Winner Is... 


"Before | announce the winner," Assistant Site Director Edmunds 
said to the small group of researchers gathered in Site 73's 
cafeteria, "I'd just like to thank and congratulate all of you for 
participating. This has been a difficult year for us, and activities like 
this always help staff morale. I've enjoyed reading all your 
submissions - yes, Greg, even yours - and it was very difficult for the 
judges to pick a winner." 


"With that out of the way," he said as he opened the envelope in his 
hands, "the winner of this year's Site 73 short story contest is - Dr. 
Tom Malthus, for his story 'Night of the Revenge of the Wrath of the 
Ghost of the Fury!" The two dozen or so assembled authors 
clapped politely as Dr. Malthus rose from his seat, took a short bow, 
and accepted the $100 gift card that was his grand prize. 


Later, in his office, Dr. James Anderson, associate managing 
supervisor of temporal anomaly research, cursed to himself under 
his breath. Malthus had won? His story was a ridiculous B-movie 
parody! He'd put so much time into his own submission, a self- 
referential piece about a man who'll do anything to win a writing 
contest, only to be outdone by this over-the-top piece of hack work 
that Malthus wrote in about fifteen minutes and submitted two hours 
before the deadline! "Well," he said to himself, "it's over and done 
with now. | can't change the past." 


Or could he? His position gave him research access to a number of 
SCP objects that operated outside of linear time. It would be a major 
violation of protocol if he got caught, of course - but as he went 
about his work, he idly wondered to himself whether there was any 
way he could use any of the objects he knew about to change the 
outcome of the contest. 


982? Not likely. 728? Too unpredictable. 276? Maybe, but there's no 
way he could pull it off without getting caught. 869? 869. Hmm. He'd 
overseen experiments in the past that involved using SCP-869 to 


attempt to send information back through time. It'd be risky, but if it 
worked he'd have had the satisfaction of seeing the look on Malthus' 
face when he himself came out on top. If nothing else, he could call 
it just another experiment, right? 


It wasn't for six months that he worked up the courage to prepare his 
parcel; an envelope with a 1948 postage stamp affixed to it, 
addressed to Site 73. Inside it, another envelope marked with the 
Foundation's seal and instructions not to open it until decades later - 
the day the site writing contest was announced. Within that, a third 
envelope, to be delivered to his own office - and within that, a copy 
of Malthus’ story and a letter to himself instructing him to submit it as 
his contest entry. 


Anderson was on pins and needles the entire drive to Galveston, the 
entire time bluffing his way past the guards at the entrance of 
SCP-869, the entire time he made his way past the crowds of 
people enjoying the park on that sunny summer day in 1948. 
Looking over his shoulder to make sure nobody else from the 
Foundation was following him, he made his way out the front 
entrance of the park, crossed the street, walked down the block to a 
waiting mailbox, opened it, and dropped his missive in. 


"And the winner of this year's Site 73 short story contest is - Dr. 
James Anderson, for his story 'Night of the Revenge of the Wrath of 
the Ghost of the Fury!" The two dozen or so assembled authors 
clapped politely as Dr. Anderson rose from his seat, took a short 
bow, and accepted the $100 gift card that was his grand prize. 


Success! Anderson was on Cloud Nine as he made his way back to 
his office. When the office gopher first handed him a letter that 
purported to be from his future self, he thought he was being set up. 
The story it instructed him to submit was frankly ridiculous, and he 
wasn't even sure almost until the end of the contest that he wanted 
to submit it - but he did, and it had worked! He'd take himself out for 
a nice steak dinner that night to celebrate. 


He never did, however, bother to write himself a letter. 


"And the winner of this year's Site 73 short story contest is - Dr. Tom 
Malthus, for his story 'Night of the Revenge of the Wrath of the 
Ghost of the Fury!" The two dozen or so assembled authors 
clapped politely as Dr. Malthus rose from his seat, took a short bow, 
and accepted the $100 gift card that was his grand prize. 


Later, in his office, Dr. James Anderson, associate managing 
supervisor of temporal anomaly research, cursed to himself under 
his breath. Malthus had won? His story was a ridiculous B-movie 
parody! He'd put so much time into his own submission, a self- 
referential piece about a man who'll do anything to win a writing 
contest, only to be outdone by this over-the-top piece of hack work 
that Malthus wrote in about fifteen minutes and submitted two hours 
before the deadline! "Well," he said to himself, "it's over and done 
with now. | can't change the past." 


Or could he? 


"And the winner of this year's Site 73 short story contest is - Dr. 
James Anderson, for his story 'Night of the Revenge of the Wrath of 
the Ghost of the Fury!" The two dozen or so assembled authors 
clapped politely as Dr. Anderson rose from his seat, took a short 
bow, and accepted the $100 gift card that was his grand prize. 


Success! Anderson was on Cloud Nine as he made his way back to 
his office. When the office gopher first handed him a letter that 
purported to be from his future self, he thought he was being set up. 
The story it instructed him to submit was frankly ridiculous, and he 
wasn't even sure almost until the end of the contest that he wanted 
to submit it - but he did, and it had worked! He'd take himself out for 
a nice steak dinner that night to celebrate. 


It wasn't until thirty years later, his last month on the job before 
retirement, as he cleaned a career's worth of paperwork out of his 
filing cabinet, that he rediscovered the certificate he'd been given to 
commemorate his victory. He realized that he'd never closed the 
time loop by sending himself a letter with the story in it - and he'd 
better do so fast, because if he left the Foundation without ever 
having done so, thirty years of history could wind up in flux. He 
searched through his papers for hours looking for a copy of the story 


that had won him that contest so many years ago - in vain. /'l/ just 
have to improvise, he thought to himself, as he sat down at his 
computer and began typing out the story as best as he could 
remember it after all these years. 


"And the winner of this year's Site 73 short story contest is - Dr. Tom 
Malthus, for his story 'Night of the Revenge of the Wrath of the 
Ghost of the Fury!" The two dozen or so assembled authors 
clapped politely as Dr. Malthus rose from his seat, took a short bow, 
and accepted the $100 gift card that was his grand prize. 


Later, in his office, Dr. James Anderson, associate managing 
supervisor of temporal anomaly research, cursed to himself under 
his breath. How could this happen? His own story, "Revenge of the 
Ghostly Wrath," was exactly what the letter had told him to submit! 
Malthus must have seen his story and ripped it off - he had to admit 
that Tom's story was a little less silly than his own. Clearly, when he 
closed the temporal loop that had started when he got a letter from 
his future self, he'd have to send that story instead... 


"And the winner of this year's Site 73 short story contest is - Dr. Tom 
Malthus, for his story '| Was A Teenage Carrot!" The two dozen or 
so assembled authors clapped politely as Dr. Malthus rose from his 
seat, took a short bow, and accepted the $100 gift card that was his 
grand prize. 


Later, in his office, Dr. James Anderson, associate managing 
supervisor of temporal anomaly research, cursed to himself under 
his breath. How could this happen? His own story, "Night of the 
Revenge of the Wrath of the Ghost of the Fury,” was exactly what 
the letter had told him to submit! He thought it over for hours and 
hours before he realized he must have submitted his entry too early 
- and when Malthus found out there was already a story exactly like 
what he planned on submitting, he had to come up with something 
else. Clearly, when he closed the temporal loop that had started 
when he got a letter from his future self, he'd have to be more 
specific with his instructions... 


"And the winner of this year's Site 73 short story contest is - Dr. 
Sarah Evans, for her story 'Love At 80,000 AU!" The two dozen or 
so assembled authors clapped politely as Dr. Evans rose from her 
seat, took a short bow, and accepted the $100 gift card that was her 
grand prize. 


Later, in his office, Dr. James Anderson, associate managing 
supervisor of temporal anomaly research, cursed to himself under 
his breath. Director Edmunds had told him that he and Dr. Malthus 
had both submitted the exact same story, and since he couldn't tell 
which of them had plagiarized the other he had no choice but to 
disqualify them both. He'd waited too long - and by the time he 
submitted the story the letter had told him to, Malthus had already 
submitted his ‘original’. Clearly, when he closed the temporal loop 
that had started when he got a letter from his future self, he'd have 
to be more specific with his instructions... 


And the winner of this year's Site 73 short story contest is - Dr. Tom 
Malthus, for his story 'How Jester Got His Groove Back!" The two 
dozen or so assembled authors clapped politely as Dr. Malthus rose 
from his seat, took a short bow, and accepted the $100 gift card that 
was his grand prize. 


Later, in his office, Dr. James Anderson, associate managing 
supervisor of temporal anomaly research, cursed to himself under 
his breath. The letter he'd gotten from his future self had explained 
every last detail of how to ensure his victory. What had gone wrong? 
Perhaps it was inevitable that Malthus would win. Perhaps he'd 
always write a better story than the one Anderson submitted. 
Clearly, when he closed the temporal loop that had started when he 
got a letter from his future self, he'd have to send a second letter as 
well - one to remove Malthus from the picture altogether... 


"And the winner of this year's Site 73 short story contest is - Dr. 
James Anderson, for his story 'Night of the Revenge of the Wrath of 
the Ghost of the Fury!" The two dozen or so assembled authors 
clapped politely as Dr. Anderson rose from his seat on a pair of 
mechanical legs, took a short bow, and accepted the $100 gift card 
that was his grand prize. 


Success! Anderson was on Cloud Nine as he made his way back to 
his office. It was a small victory in his long career with the 
Foundation and all the accomplishments they'd made to improve 
mankind, but it was a victory all the same. Immediately, he grabbed 
some digipaper and an E-quill, and started writing the instructions to 
his past self that would close the loop and ensure time remained 
unaltered... 


Assistant Site Director Edmunds’ thoughts radiated immediately 
across the great neural network to all those who had become part of 
the Foundation-Mind. "And the winner of this year's Site 73 short 
story contest is - Unit 483012, James Anderson, for his story ‘Night 
of the Revenge of the Wrath of the Ghost of the Fury!" 


Anderson hid his feelings from the accolades of his peers as they 
drifted into his mind. In the stasis pod where his physical body lay 
connected to the tubes and machines that sustained it, he rolled 
over and unplugged his neural jack. This is all wrong, he thought as 
he suddenly found himself alone with his thoughts. The world isn't 
supposed to be like this. My past self must have introduced some 
anachronism when he sent that letter. I've got to fix it somehow... 


"Et le gagnant de cette année pour le concours de nouvelles 
littéraires du Site 73 est - Dr. Tom Malthus, avec son histoire 
intitulée : Nuit de la Vengeance du Courroux du Fantéme de la 
Fureur!" Les quelques deux douzaines d’auteurs réunis applaudirent 
poliment, tandis que le Dr. Malthus se levait, s’inclinait rapidement et 
acceptait la carte-cadeau de 100 Francs qui était son grand prix. 


Plus tard dans son bureau, le Dr. James Anderson, gestionnaire 
associé a la supervision de la recherche sur les anomalies 
temporelles, se maudit dans sa barbe. Malthus avait gagné? Son 
histoire n’était qu’une ridicule parodie de films de série B! II avait mis 
tellement de temps dans sa propre soumission, une histoire 
autoréférentielle sur un homme prét a tout pour gagner un concours 
d’écriture, simplement pour étre surpassé par ce torchon baclé et 
outrancier que Malthus avait écrit en quinze minutes et soumit deux 
heures avant la fin du délai! "Eh bien," se dit-il "c’est bel et bien 
terminé maintenant. Je ne peux pas changer le passé. " 


appears polished. Produced at a 
rate of 15 blocks per hour. 

Manufacturing Port k Manufacturing 15 cm iron bolts. 
Assembly line appears to have 
been damaged, as the bolts have 
severe manufacturing defects that 
render them unusabie. 

Manufacturing Port A Badly damaged, produces a 
constant stream of metal scrap. 
Scrap composition varies with 
samples ranging from bronze 
alloys matching the plating of 
SCP-2406 to gray metals 
matching the blocks forming 
SCP-TT39. 

Manufacturing Port w Produces steel washers, 2 cm 
wide and 0.01 cm thick, at a rate 
of 200 per hour. 

Manufacturing Port ¢ Produces High-Explosive Anti- 
Tank artillery shells at a rate of 
300 per hour. Personnel should 
note that these shells are highly 
unstable due to manufacturing 
defects. 


Addendum 744-A: Log of communications with SCP-744-1. 
Interviews granted by SCP-744 have been very brief, due to 
SCP-744-1's uncooperative nature. 


+ Show Interview 744-A 
Interview 744-1-A 
Interviewed: SCP-744-1 
Interviewer: Dr. B 


Foreword: This interview was taken shortly after 
SCP-744's initial containment. 


<Begin Log> 


Ou pourrait-il? 


9/8/13: The Time Contest has ended! The winner is Dr. 
Gears, with his tale 'Foundation 2099'. Thanks for all of 
your great entries! 


James Anderson cursed under his breath as he read the 
announcement on the front page of the SCP wiki. His story about 
Lord Blackwood joining forces with SCP-173 to fight crime had been 
leading in upvotes for two weeks - and then Gears pops out of the 
blue again and posts a story that makes it to +100 in under two 
days? How is anyone supposed to compete with that? If only there 
were some way to travel back in time and submit Gears' own story 
before he could... 


The quivering purple mass of flesh towered over the two dozen 
humans who kneeled in chains below it. It began to undulate as 
speech echoed from within its hulking body. "I have reviewed the 
literary tributes you pitiful creatures have submitted to me, and none 
of them are worthy. None of you shall earn your freedom today!" 


The slave who had once been called Dr. James Anderson, back 
before the coming of the Age of Flesh, cursed under his breath. 
Sure, freedom probably meant a slow death alone in the ruins of the 
world above, but it had to be better than this. There must be one of 
the Master's playthings | can get at, he thought to himself, to ensure 
that he would be free...