Individuals drawn into SCP-830 may be contacted by standing within 
eight meters of the pool (for the safety of designated 
communicators, closer than six meters is not recommended). 
Distorted but recognizable faces of those consumed by SCP-830 will 
form upon the surface, one by one. The communicator may 


eyes. 


Footnotes 
1. [DATA EXPUNGED] 


Document Alpha-Zeta-2 


Document recovered in the canteen of Site- . Current source of 
writings are unknown, but at this time theorised [REDACTED]. Item 
appears to be some form of diary, however as the possibility of it 
actually being sourced from [REDACTED] are unlikely, it is kept on 
record as a hoax. 


However, entry 1,900 correlates directly to [DATA EXPUNGED]. 
Excerpts from the text follow. 


Day 1,450 

Nice day. Woke up, but wasn't particularly hungry, so | 
just helped myself to a snack. No-one ever seems to ask 
me for payment, but then again | haven't got a job, so 
that's probably a good thing. The canteen is nice, and | 
saw that nice lady again, she always seems to be 
helping someone. This time she was talking to that weird 
guy who always has a gun with him. | don't like him. 


Well, that's it for today, can't think of much else to write. 


Day 1,451 

Had a sausage sandwich for dinner today. They make 
really nice food in that cafe down the hall from my room. 
Those two guys who stand outside my room sometimes 
were there again today. | dunno why they're there, 
although that nice man who gave me the room did 
mention people would stand outside sometimes to keep 
me safe. Or was it to keep someone else safe? | can't 
remember. 

Either way, they're never very talkative, which is boring. | 
just wish someone would come and actually have a 
proper conversation with me. Instead of just walking into 
my room (WITHOUT EVER KNOCKING!) and then look 
surprised I'm in here. 


| mean, they must know I'm in here, otherwise why would 
| have this room? 


Day 1,500 

I'm another year older! No-one brought me a cake 
though. There was a big boom somewhere else today, 
must have been that guy in the weird pixelly clothing. 
He's always making things explode. 


It being my birthday did mean | wasn't as bored today. 
Had to take some more paper and pens and things out of 
the store-room though. Everytime | asked, nothing 
happened, so | did it myself. 


| know this is some kind of research place, and that | 
shouldn't go outside because of the disease, but it's 
really boring being ignored all the time. | wonder what 
the disease is? He said it was bad, but never said more 
when | think back about it. Hope it's not too bad. 


Day 1,759 

| swear to god the next person to walk into my room 
without knocking is going to get my chair thrown at his 
head. 


Day 1,761 

Throwing a chair at someone's head does not get their 
attention. Or make someone come and shout at you. | 
could live with shouting, as long as someone actually 
talks to me. 


Day 1,830 

Drew on the walls today, make my room a bit brighter. 
Just need to find some paint and | can make it look good. 
This was this guy walking past today wearing a really 
shiny necklace. 

Looked expensive, | wonder why he's wearing it in a lab? 


Day 1,850 
Painted my walls after finishing the drawings. Looks 
really good. Hope the next person to walk in likes it. 


Day 1,899 
Meh, looks like another dreary day ahe 


Day 1,900 

OH MY GOD YESTERDAY WAS THE BEST DAY 
EVER. | was just sat in my room, filling in my diary as 
usual, expecting another boring day of nothing, as 
always. Suddenly, there's this massive BANG and a 
lizard thing breaks down the wall with my door in it. It had 
some guy on it's back shooting at it, and then another 
giant (he has to be a giant, he was too big to be a person 
like me) pulled a sword out of NOWHERE and starting 
hitting the lizard and it was the best thing ever. | might try 
drawing a picture of it. 


Day 1,903 
Finally finished painting my walls again after that lizard 
thing came through it. They look really good again now. 


Day 3,050 
| wish someone would remember me. 


Document C 88 II 


Beyond the dim, childish rays of Sol burn the steady, glowering 
lights of slumbering embers. Millions of lifetimes away lie the 
quasars, the softly thrumming globes of aging light, somehow 
ancient in the youngest part of the universe. Their light is cold and 
dim, but harsh, blanketing the cold, dead stones that drift in their 
scrambling, cantankerous gravity with oceans of radiation and soft, 
silent death. The anciently young baubles roil and bubble with 
youthful, rotting cores, belching forth their combined first breaths 
and death rattles. They twist slowly in their near-eternal dying birth, 
bubbling and muttering to themselves for eons in tongues of 
radiation and cooling heat. 


Even these contradictory beings are not eternal, and soon they cool, 
bloating with the carrion of their own burning bodies. Some burst 
finally, breaking their simultaneous dance of life and death, to spawn 
new strangeness. Others collapse, falling just shy of this final 
freedom, cooling to black, silent, hateful balls of regret and loss. 
Twisting in their hallucinating, dreaming cores, they turn black, still 
shells to the hated universe, the sprightly, twinkling upstart stars and 
scrambling worlds, to dream and sleep the sleep of the sick and 
forgetful. 


Stars, like men, however, are mortal, and are therefore open to 
those that are not. Like a man falling asleep to wake as someone 
new, the void-hearted quasar can forget who they are, and become 
remembered by another. One, dreaming in its own ashes, slowly 
found itself becoming the dream, the doddering, hating core slipping 
away as a new dreamer took its place, a dreamer whose thoughts 
sent the dream plunging away, vanishing in to void and oblivion then 
to know for a moment that such a dreamer existed, let alone lie 
subject to its whims. For epochs it then dreamed of nothing, its lost 
dreams not missed or even noticed by those that see time as a 
ocean, and not a path. 


Then, in time, the dreamer awoke. 


The tiny, sparkling life that grew in the coddling shadow of Sol found 
the place of Knowing. One, unimportant and unknown, came 
seeking. In his seeking, he was made aware of the dreamer, and by 
that knowledge, the dreamer became aware of him. The dreamer 
came, the awareness pressing in to the tiny point, to find it pleasing 
and strange. It awoke, and seeped in to the vacant star's corpse, 
pulling flecks of reality to clothe its own vacant eyes. 


Boiling with new knowledge, it pushed, feeling the feeble waters of 
reality part and ripple before it, and began to travel, crawling and 
oozing on the walls of its shell, feeling new sensation, awareness, 
and knowledge. It rolls softly, a scarab in its own tomb, to feel, to 
know, to change, and to take all that is lacking. It comes to spread 
awareness in to life, and feel the soft constriction of mortality around 
it, like the hug of a dying child. It comes at its leisure. It comes at the 
pace of blank void. But it comes. 


To worship and bring the Broken to the world is merely the anointing 
of the offering. To prepare the vessel to be filled, to allow its 
endurance beyond the flickering points of mortality. We will turn 
undying eyes to the sun, and watch the eons roll past. Watch as the 
great, gray home grows behind it, swelling with trivial ages. Watch 
as its burning, vapid light is extinguished and replaced with the cold, 
aged seepage of the dreamer's shell. We will raise our arms, all, on 
our waiting, Whole world, and be filled with the awareness of the 
dreamer's core, and vanish to its pleasure. 


To restore the Broken is great. To be known by The Gray 
Awareness is greater. 


So says Anna, third Prophet of the Age of Strife, second Acolyte to 
The Gray Awareness, servant to the Church. 


Document recovered by investigating Agents. 
Authenticity of the physical document has been verified. 
References to the subject matter have not been found in 
any other documents recovered from the Church. 


Document Recovered From The Marianas Trench 


| need to write this down, because | forget things sometimes, and | 
think what | heard today was important. Not to me, the time for me 
or almost anyone else alive on Earth today to make a difference has 
passed, but someone, somewhere might be able to make something 
of this, or at least find it helpful, or something. Once I'm done, I'm 
going to seal it up in a pipe, coat it in wax, and chuck it into the 
ravine. Maybe someday someone will read this, and try to put things 
together. If they're allowed to. 


I'd love to start at the beginning, but I'm honestly not sure when the 
world started to end. Could have been years and years before the 
final bits, or it could have been all at once. Everything was so grim, 
what with warmer air, cooler seas, too little gas and too many 
people, things could have been unraveling for ages before things 
bubbled up to the public eye. What | and others remember most was 
when the Disney Magic sank. It was then, | think, that most people 
started to think that things might be worse than they seemed. 


The Disney Magic was a big cruise ship, one of those liner jobs that 
tools around islands and stuff. One day, the news was all screaming 
about how it suddenly just went down when it was trying to put in to 
port. The weird thing about it was how there was no video of it for a 
long time. Some still pictures of it floating fine, but none of it actually 
going down. Then, somehow, a tape showed up, and the news 
started playing it. | have to imagine they didn't review it first. 


The ship was puffing along, strong and fast, little boats bobbing 
around it, looking like every vacation lover's dream, when suddenly 
it stopped. | mean stopped, just a dead halt like it had just slammed 
into a mountain. You could see people go lurching forward all over 
the deck, a bunch of junk fall off the sides, a real mess. It's all still for 
a few seconds, then suddenly there's this foaming behind the ship. 
Most people assumed it was the engine trying to fire up again... 
then the arm came up. 


I'm not sure if it actually was an arm, but it was some kind of limb, 
and it must have been a hundred feet long at least. It reached up 
along the side of the boat and... just ripped it open, | mean unzipped 
it like a coat, and you could see all the people inside screaming and 
running... it was awful. Then you saw something lurch up, a big, 
spiny shape pushing against that gap, shoving in... then there was 
an explosion on its back, and the camera whipped up to show a 
couple of jets whizzing by... then it ended. 


| remember just sitting there, stunned, looking at the TV, barely 
noticing the president coming on to declare a state of emergency. | 
think it was two or three days later when the TV went under full 
government control, but it may have been a week, I'm not sure. 
Internet got clamped later, but soon all you could hear, read or see 
was “remain calm, everything is under control”. The oddest thing 
was that life really didn't change much for a while. Bills still came, 
still had to work, go to school, all that. Just a lot more scared faces, 
and a lot more weird talk. 


Pretty soon we were getting told that whole towns were being 
evacuated, that there was a plague, or a riot, or a terrorist bomb, or 
some other nightmare. My brother down south said that they got 
moved because of a huge wildfire. The weird thing was, he said, that 
the fire moved oddly... seemed to shoot right for gas or brush, and 
didn't travel evenly. That after a while, he swore he saw what looked 
like a twenty foot tall man of fire walking and eating everything. The 
call got dropped right after he said that. | haven't talked to him since. 


So things got worse, little by little. People kept being moved, and 
there was no real way to communicate with each other anymore that 
was really reliable, so it was hard to say just how bad things were. 
Still, word of mouth was still going strong, and it was creepy. Crazy 
shit, really, stuff about zombies in the north, killing frenzies in the 
east, a place near the ocean where the ground was alive and eating 
people, a cult screaming about the second coming and killing people 
to buy off god... | started pulling more and more away from people, 
just to get some ignorant peace of mind. Looking back, that probably 
saved my life. 


Finally, one day, | woke up and there was blood on my window. It 
was outside, and | could hear some insane shit going down 


outside... screaming, clanking, gunshots, and a smell like burning 
wires. | hid. I'm not ashamed to admit it, | left my fellow man to rot, 
and hid inside for almost a full week, long after the noise stopped. 
After the fifth day, the electricity and gas gave out, along with the 
running water. When | finally got hard up for supplies, | poked my 
nose out, and saw that the whole west side of the world was gone. 


Now, | don't know for sure if it actually is gone, but there is a cliff that 
starts thirty feet to the west of my house, and | cannot see the 
bottom of it. | also can't see the other side of this ravine, so for all 
intents and purposes, that part of the world is gone for me. The 
suburb | was in looked like a war zone, blood and broken stuff 
everywhere, houses carved up... no bodies though, which | still think 
was weird. | scrounged up some food and stuff from some of the 
houses, then went back home. 


I've been doing that for a while now. I'm not sure how long, really. 
Might have been years and years, or just a few months, it's hard to 
say. Sometimes the sun just sticks in one spot for what feels like 
days... other times these clouds roll in, and you can't see two feet. 
There's... things around, too. | run at the first noise, but | think 
they're about man-sized, and they seem to like metal. Other, little 
things scramble around in the rubble sometimes, so | try and keep 
clear. One time, a thing that looked like a pill bug the size of a cat 
crawled out, looked at me, and screamed “STOP!” in perfect 
English. | hid inside for days. 


There are also these big blimp-things that float around sometimes. 
They have little bug legs on their undersides, and they look kinda 
like maggots, but with eyes all over. They eat everything when they 
land, but most of the time they stay high up. One of these had just 
passed when | found the hurt guy. He was all ripped up, and looked 
like one of those S.W.A.T. Team guys you see on tv sometimes, but 
his combat suit thing was all ripped to hell. | dragged him back 
home, and then we talked. 


He said that he had been hunting the blimp-thing, but had gotten 
attacked. He wouldn't say by what, but he looked like he was on his 
last legs. | fed him some canned beans and some water, and he 
seemed to come around a little. Asked me who | was, if | was alright 
and all that. He seemed kinda shocked when | said he was the first 


person I'd seen since the west of the world vanished. He told me it 
wasn't gone, just relocated, but wouldn't say what that meant. | 
helped heal him up, and kept asking who he was, but he wouldn't 
say. Finally, he said screw it, that his orders were probably no good 
anymore anyway, and told me. 


He said he worked for a foundation or something, and that they were 
like a combination jail and research center. He said that he was one 
of the agents who went around trying to find strange stuff and keep it 
from hurting people. | said he was doing a hell of a job so far, and he 
laughed pretty hard. He said something had happened, and that a 
bunch of these things had gotten loose at the same time, and 
caused this foundation place to lose control. He said it became a 
“GH-0 'Dead Greenhouse’ scenario”.