"First chapter is always the hardest..." Cameron agreed. He didn't 
know why. 


He blinked again, and he and Stephen were back on stage. 


"Ladies and gentlemen at home," Cameron found himself saying, "I 
am pleased to recommend to you Star Signals for your reading 
pleasure..." 


Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Stephen smile and nod in 
approval. Cameron smiled back. He had little choice in the matter. 
From this point on, it appeared that he was no longer in control of 
his studio. Here, Stephen was king. 


White 


A cold wind blew softly across the white expanse below. The few 
trees standing held their solemn oath of silence against the 
desolation. The calm snow drifted from dune to dune, undisturbed. 
Then a flash of red, a spurt of blood, and the body of the man it 
belonged to, clad in many furs. Ahead of him ran a woman. She 
turned the moment he fell and called back to him, crying. But she did 
not stop, as she knew that this was how it was supposed to be. The 
man grabbed a compass from one of his pockets and threw it to her. 
Catching it in one hand, she reached into her pocket and threw him 
an identical one. Not wanting to waste any more time, she raised her 
hand above her head. It began to glow a soft, faint blue as she held 
it there, the intensity of the blue light increasing with every moment. 
Shouts from their pursuers reached their ears. As she looked up, 
four figures fired their guns at her. She glanced at the man bleeding 
in the snow, closed her eyes, and slammed her hand to the ground. 


A flash of blue and she was gone. 

The man smiled and let darkness consume him. 

His compass was enveloped by the white. 

He was sweat. He was the soft brush across the blanket, the 
whirring fan. 

Then he was awake. 

White. 

White clothes. White walls. White bed. 


But not his skin. It was a dark brown, smooth, not unlike his dog 
named...something. He couldn't remember. 


He realized he couldn't remember much. What was his name? 
Where was he? Why was he here? 


He closed his eyes and thought. His mind was white too; there was 

nothing there except echos. Flashes of random scenes, put together 
without any order. Sometimes screaming. Sometimes laughing. But 
never still. 


When he opened them, the room wasn't completely white. Across 
the room was a lady. She was speaking to him, but the words didn't 
parse; they were all eaten up by peppermint and battery acid. All he 
could focus on was her hair. 


He had to have known someone like her. 


She stopped talking and he was left alone. He sat down on the bed 
and stared at the ceiling. A speck of snow hit his cheek and the 
white consumed him once again. 


His name was Richard. 


This detail came to him while eating at the cafeteria. The white of his 
mind was melting and drip by drip details were escaping from his 
frozen mind. Faces, names, places. 


Someone special. Someone dear. And they were missing. 


As he ate, between his eyes, he saw a single speck of snow drift 
from nothing and land on the bridge of his nose. Startled, he looked 
around. Snow. Everywhere. White, stinging specks, piling within the 
room. No one seemed to notice, not as the drifts began to crawl up 
the steel and up their faces. "It isn't real, it isn't real, it isn't real," he 
told himself. 


"Hey man, you OK?" 


He heard the words but their meaning remained just out of reach. 
Turning to face the source of the sound, his shoulder knocked the 
white reaching towards him, detaching the powdery arm and 
sending it to the floor, where it joined the rest of snow below. The 
man’s face turned to agony for a second before it too was consumed 


by white. Richard clutched his temples and closed his eyes. "Just a 
dream, just a dream, that’s all it is. That’s all it can be." The snow 
was cold, leeching away the heat from Richard’s body. Soon he was 
wet, cold, and shivering. Opening his eyes, all thoughts of fear or 
cold were blown away by the wind. The purity of the white in the 
room began to rip away at the white of his mind. 


He had been here before. 


The steel no more held him, as they too gave way to the white, the 
stars and moon no longer held back by the unnatural light, the wind 
no longer hindered by the walls of that prison. Trees dotted the 
landscape and dunes of snow stretched far across the expanse. 
This is where it happened. He saw the compass in the snow. He 
saw someone pick it up. His heart tightened and he screamed, 
telling them to leave it alone, to keep on walking. He watched them 
look up and pause. 


The snow melted away into three people walking in, one of them 
carrying a syringe. There was red on the ground but no source. As 
the last bit of snow melted, his name came back to him. They were 
speaking to him, to Richard. To calm down. To calm down and let 
them come forward. The words once again were eaten away. What 
the white had given it had just taken away. The first man took a step 
forward. 


Maybe, just maybe, if Richard was fast enough, he could reach the 
compass in time. 


Then another step. 
The man in the snow didn't know, didn't realize its importance. 
The last step turned into a lunge and a yell. 


Richard yelled, closed his eyes, and ran forward. White once again 
descended upon the walls. When he opened them, he once again 
saw the man in the snow. The man's eyes continued to stare at 
Richard's, sizing him up. They picked him apart, weighing his heart 
against the feather. Richard stumbled towards the man, blood 
dripping down his head. "Please... it's all | need, all I've ever 


to be pilot [DATA EXPUNGED] via voice print analysis, reported that 
the aircraft had suffered multiple malfunctions in its navigation 
systems and requested a position check. USS was unable to 
locate the source of the signal on radar, and contact was lost shortly 
thereafter. 


Date: //82 

Subject: SCPS Hydra, Foundation listening ship 

Description: Anomalous artificial signal lasting 15 seconds detected 
from Area 998-Alpha. No recognizable information recorded. 


Date: / /83 

Subject: SCPS Hydra, Foundation listening ship 

Description: Anomalous artificial signal lasting 32 seconds detected 
from Area 998-Alpha. Several words were identified in the recording, 
but no cohesive speech was extracted. 


Date: / /88 

Subject: SCPS Artemis, Foundation listening ship 

Description: Contact made, lasting approximately 93 seconds. 
Similar to initial contact, a strained voice was heard, reporting that 
navigation systems were offline and requesting a position check. 
The signal also indicated that the craft was lost in fog. 


Date: / /89 

Subject: SCPS Artemis, Foundation listening ship 

Description: Contact made for almost 27 minutes, the longest out 
of any recorded SCP-998 event. During this time, Foundation 
personnel gave several instructions to the crew of SCP-998 and 
multiple Foundation search aircraft were deployed in an attempt to 
locate the source of the signal. Communications during this time 
indicated that the craft was still lost within heavy fog despite the 
complete absence of adverse weather in the region, and that they 
could not see the sun or anything that could give them a reference. 
Foundation assets were unable to establish visual contact with the 
source, and eventually contact was lost shortly after the crew of 
SCP-998 indicated that they thought they saw something in the fog. 


Date: //93 
Subject: SCPS Taurus, Foundation listening ship 
Description: An extremely faint signal was picked by automated 


needed... just please, give it to me... you have to...." The man 
smiled and held up the compass. He had been judged as pure. 
Richard reached out towards the compass, towards his heart. Soon, 
they would be reunited. The white began to eat at his arm, at the 
compass. Before his eyes, the white ate all. 


Richard's head hit the window, meeting it head on, breaking his 
nose and his vision. As he looked outside, he saw the man. Saw him 
pocket the compass and walk onward. He tried to reach out to him, 
to yell, but his arms didn't listen. The white had given enough. Now it 
was taking away. He saw the streaks across the window. The dried 
blood of previous attempts. The man which had stood there, offering 
him salvation, disappearing into the snow. Walls of peppermint and 
battery acid failed before the encompassing white. And a single, soft 
blue light was finally consumed. 


Outside the window, a man pocketed a compass. His grandfather 
would love it, even if it didn't work. 


A cold wind blew softly across the white expanse. 


Item Description: An ornate compass. Regardless 
of magnetic interference or any other variables, the 
object's needle will always point towards the location of a 
woman named : 

Date of Recovery: - -2014 

Location of Recovery: Perugia, Italy 

Current Status: In storage. 


White Knight 


The following log was recovered from the personal 
computer of Dr. on January 23, 19 , aspartofa 
formal inquiry. Access is restricted to Level 2 personnel 
and higher. Thanks to the work of Agent , only the 
most significant portions have been retained. A full 
transcript is available upon request. 


It is worth noting that, according to the informed opinions 
of Dr. and Agent , Dr. ’s exposure to SCP- - 
could not have been the only thing at work here, as the 
scope of its effect—while extremely hazardous and 
detrimental—is not this extensive. Dr. was an 
extremely disturbed man, with more than mere exposure 
to an SCP at work within his mind. 


All prior evaluations and reports seemed to indicate that 
Dr. was a likable, if unremarkable, researcher. Due 
to circumstances which will become readily evident, his 
termination on March 23, 201 has been recorded as a 
casualty rather than a sentencing. 


October 14, 198 : 


| finally gained approval for testing on SCP-_ - . Finally. For 
seventeen months I’ve requested, explained, and begged Director 

, and he finally relented last weekend at the Senior Staff party for 
Dr. Christina . | can’t believe she’s thirty-five! Barely looks a day 
over twenty. Maybe | should ask her to dinner sometime? After all, 
we're closer in age than | initially believed! Hahaha! 


February 16, 198 : 


Work started today. | think that I’m going to manage to get this round 
of testing done before July, and then | plan to take my annual leave 


to visit Site- . Once | complete this project, | think | should be able to 
get my transfer request approved. It’s not that | don’t like the site or 
the people | work with, but the Australian Outback is just so... dull. 
Well, | shouldn’t say that. Christina (who also accepted my request 
for a fourth date!) is a herpetologist, and we spent over an hour last 
night together talking about how many poisonous snakes there were 
living out there. You wanna know how many? A lot. A whole, whole 
lot. But she’s really more fun than I’m making her out to be. Smart, 
funny. Sexy as hell too. Haha! | hope she never reads this. She’d kill 
me. 


May 24, 198 : 


SCP- - is just as unreactive as it’s always been. God only knows 
why the Insurgency wanted it. Doesn’t make any sense. Our 
containment specialist, kid named , he thinks that it’s just to 
make us waste resources, but | don’t buy that. There’s something 
going on there that I’m just not seeing yet. Next round of tests are 
still being run by Director for approval, so | get a few days off. 
Christina and | are going over to Sydney for the weekend. She told 
me she had a present for me... | think she’s just trying to make up 
for canceling on me on Thursday. 


May 28, 198 : 
Holy shit. She made up for it. 
September 1, 198 : 


The sun is shining, the birds are singing! Things are going so well 
right now that | just want to shout if from the top of a table in the 
mess hall. Hahaha! And no, it’s not just because I’m getting laid, 
though that /s pretty tops. Most recent round of testing was 
approved, I’m up for a promotion, and Dr. is retiring, which 
means I’m next in line for his office! It’s actually a little smaller than 
mine, but it’s right next to Christina’s, so I’m not going to complain. 
God damn. | am so lucky. 


November 8, 198 : 


Ugh. Testing shows a null again. They’re lowering me from seven to 


just three Class-D’s, and I’m once again loosing Jr. Researchers. | 
know that it’s not the most exciting work. Research on Safe objects 
rarely is, unless you’re lucky enough to work under Gears. But this is 
part of the job! You’ve got to get in there, get your chops on 
something mostly harmless, and learn the procedures! Without that 
sort of knowledge, you’re never going to succeed in this line of work. 
You’re going to end up dead or stranded in an alternate dimension, 
or doing something reckless that gets a lot of people killed. Ahh, 
well. They were good kids. | think they’ll do fine. 


December 22, 198 : 


| finally got the news kids broken in, just in time for the next round of 
testing. | asked Christina if she’d be interested in transferring off site 
with me, and while she was initially hesitant, the second | mentioned 
that I’d be aim for Site- , she jumped at it. Apparently, she’s 
originally from the Ozarks (She never told me! Not a trace of an 
accent, either), and since SCP- is there, she thinks she'll have a 
good chance of getting approved as well! Of course, there’s another 
way to make sure we both get transferred together, but I’m a little 
hesitant to ask. It’s only been a year and a half, but there is just such 
a strong connection there... Ahh! | don’t even want to think about it! 
Haha! 


January 1, 198 : 
She said yes! 
March 23, 198 : 


Director actually made me cry a little. | never thought he liked 
me that much, but the ceremony he performed was probably the 
most moving thing I’ve ever heard him say. It’s like he’s been 
practicing it for years! We've decided to stay at Site- for a little 
while. | don’t want to drag her away from her work, and she has no 
interest in dragging me away from mine, either. But, we’ve decided 
on it. No more than another three years here. It’s a dead-end 
posting, and | think we both know we're better than that, now. 


May 4, 199 : 


Well, I’m sorry to be ending my research on SCP- - without 
actually getting any new data. We've got reams and reams of failed 
test after failed test. I’m beginning think this thing is a safe that’s 
never going to be cracked. But I’m not sure. Maybe I’m just not that 
good at these sorts of things. Ahh, well. 


On the bright side... Request for transfer approved! It was actually 
Christina’s that went trough, not mine, but who cares! Site- awaits, 
and it’s got a huge facility in a quiet, rural little area. The best part? 
Only two hours from , and while that may not sound like 
heaven, let me assure you that spending eight years in a desert 
wasteland will make any major site of population far, far more 
interesting. 


July 7, 199 : 


We've settled in remarkable well! I’ve made a bunch of new friends 
from some of the people living here. Haha. I’m a kept man right now. 
Christina jumped right in with SCP- __, but I’m still waiting for 
assignment! On the good side, I’ve got lots of time to follow my own 
pursuits. | Keep checking my old research on’ -, and I’ve founda 
bunch of errors that my kids made. Nothing to serious, but enough 
to require resubmission. Director actually offered me reposting 
when he saw my revisions. Said that he’d, and | quote: “Never have 
let me go if I’d shown this diligence before.” Hahaha! | told him that | 
just had to shake the sand, and dust out of my brains to get them 
working again. We had a good laugh. It was nice to talk to him 
again. 


September 22, 199: