Your second variety are the Fixers, and they’re a pain in the ass. 
These are perpetrators who think they can go back and fix whatever 
they did to get caught. God knows how they do it. There’s a well by 
an abandoned farm off County Road 18 that’s the most likely 
candidate. If you stare hard enough into it, sometimes you get one 
chance to go back and fix your biggest regret. We keep that thing 
boarded up, though, and they still keep coming somehow. 


The good thing about the Fixers is, time travel doesn’t make perps 
any smarter. You might lose leads, but usually while they’re going 
around picking up the murder weapon, they leave just as much 
evidence the second time through. If you find a crime scene with five 
separate sets of footprints, all from the same pair of shoes, you’re 
probably dealing with a Fixer. If there’s no evidence whatsoever, it’s 
probably a ghost. That’s another story. 


Fixers, you can usually deal with by sticking to procedure. Find and 
document all your leads, do good detective work, and, most 
importantly, do not share case details with anyone outside of the 


department. You say nothing to the press, nothing to your family, 
nothing to your shrink, nothing to God in heaven; no one. The day 
you go back to the evidence locker to find an empty box anda 
stinging headache, you'll learn. 


We had one guy accidentally mention a dropped wallet in a press 
conference, and poof, it was gone. Migraines for everyone who 
happened to have the TV going, and a nasty call from the mayor. 
Not good for your career. You keep your lips zipped and your case 
files tight until we ship the whole thing off to the DA. Hopefully, after 
that, the perp’ll be too busy stamping license plates in Dodge to gin 
up a time machine. 


Alright, | think that’s about enough for now. As | said, we’re real glad 
to have you two on the force. Good to have some new officers. First 
things first, why don’t you two take a squad car over to County Road 
18. Seems like someone's kicked the boards off that damn well. 


I’m gonna go find some Advil, | feel a migraine coming on. 


|Hub| 


SCP-001-D 


Harold Wodiew lived a rather uneventtul life - or rather, as 
uneventful of a life as one could when you worked for the 
Foundation and were stationed in Sloth's Pit, Wisconsin. He was the 
Senior Archivist at the little site, storing the minor non-anomalous 
objects the Foundation wanted to hold onto, and all of their 
associated files. 


He had a letter, from "ADRX-19". Checking with the records, he saw 
that it was the oldest Foundation site, back from the days before it 
was even called the Foundation. There had been an update - it was 
growing too old, and was being shelved, with everything being 
shipped off elsewhere. 


Today, Site-87 received the first of their packages from the old base, 
a large wooden crate and a case of files to accompany it. It had 
been wheeled up to the bay doors of the Archives by a delivery man, 
and had stunned Harold when he read what was stamped to the 
side. 


SCP-001 


Harold looked at the delivery man, who only laughed and said, "You 
didn't hear? SCP-001 is dead." 


Item Number Assignment: SCP-001-COG 


Date: June 12th, 1904 


Summary: Following the decision of the Administrator 
and Overseer Council to redesignate contained objects 
with arbitrary numerical designations, it has been 
decided that the anomaly formerly designated as 


#86243AR-001 will be reclassified to SCP-001-COG. 


Formerly, the Foundation has appended all objects with 
a numeral designation indicating the order in which they 
brought into Foundation custody. As the new SCP-001- 
COG was the first object formerly contained by the 
Foundation, it was assigned the -001 tag. However, it 
has been decided that this system provides too much 
information to potential adversaries, and must be done 
away with. 


The Overseer Council has elected to use the SCP-001 
slot for a nontraditional purpose. Rather than host a 
single anomaly, it shall be a collection of the most 
dangerous, highest interest or most important anomalies 
contained by the Foundation. In this manner, the 
SCP-001 will contain an unknown number of real files, 
along with a large number of decoys. 


However, the Administrator has voiced the opinion that 
placing SCP-001-COG among the other files of SCP-001 
will allow it to act as both a real file and a decoy. The 
details of SCP-001-COG are accurate and can be placed 
within the SCP-001 slot without raising suspicion: one 
might think that we are merely being shy about our 
origins. However, it will belie the truly important 
anomalies of the SCP-001 slot, that actually require 
subterfuge. 


Object Class Assignment: SCP-001-COG 
Date: April 21st, 1912 


Summary: Following an assessment by the 
Foundation's Classification Committee, it has been 
decided to assign SCP-001-COG the Object Class of 
"Euclid". This has been decided as a result of SCP-001's 
infrequent attempts to escape containment and the 
moderate danger level of the anomaly. 


The Object Classification system is an attempt to assign 
simple metrics and descriptors to anomalies under 
Foundation supervision. These will ideally allow for a 
simple way to communicate the danger level posed by 
an anomaly in the event of a containment breach. Some 
have objected to this system as dangerously reductive, 
but the Classification Committee has decided the 
benefits outweigh the results. 


This may come as a surprise to certain readers who 
have been following the new Object Class system with 
interest. They may recognize that the "Keter" Object 
Class was named after the first fatality caused by 
SCP-001-COG, that of Doctor Hermann Keter. Dr. Keter 
was one of the highest ranked scientists in the 
Foundation prior to his death, and the decision was 
made to name a vital element of our operation practices 
after him. However, the anomaly that killed him does not 
meet the qualifications of a Keter-class anomaly. 


Incident Report SCP-001-COG: Containment Breach 
Date: 15/06/1932 
Reporting Personnel: Sergeant Vincent Jordan 


Summary: SCP-001-COG breached containment today, 
by creating a microsingularity close to it for teleportation. 
It reappeared fifty feet outside of its containment cell, 
attempting to travel the halls of ADRX-19. It is worth 
noting that this is substantially shorter than other 
teleportations that it has achieved, which have measured 
up to three thousand feet in the past. 


After breaching containment, SCP-001-COG appeared 
confused by the bright lights of ADRX-19 (recently 
installed as part of a Foundation-wide attempt to 
renovate the appearance and decor of all Sites and 
Bases, but coincidentally helpful in the impediment of 
SCP-001-COG's escape attempts). As SCP-001-COG is 


photosensitive and harmed by light, it began to panic. 


SCP-001-COG encountered a group of researchers, and 
attacked. It first utilized a microsingularity, producing 
large amounts of radiation, poisoning all researchers. It 
attacked one researcher (Dr. Henrietta Clark) with its 
claws. 


Site security arrived at the scene seconds later, and 
scared SCP-001-COG away from the researchers with a 
burst of warning fire. They were able to successfully 
guide it back to its containment cell using high intensity 
flashlights. 


Dr. Henrietta Clark has been placed on medical leave 
and is expected to make a full recovery, as have all other 
involved researchers. 


Incident Report SCP-001-COG: Neutralization 
Date: 17/08/1961 
Reporting Personnel: Sergeant Vincent Jordan, Junior 


Summary: This morning, a routine check of all 
anomalies contained within ADRX-19 indicated that 
SCP-001 was not moving. After entering the containment 
cell, armed guards received no hostile response from 
SCP-001. 


Further medical investigation of the anomaly revealed 
that it was no longer breathing, and its heart had stopped 
beating. While little is known about the biology of 
SCP-001, it was confirmed that it both had a pulse and 
needed to respirate. 


This comes at the end of long period of apparent old age 
from SCP-001. In the past decade, SCP-001 has been 
weaker and more sluggish than it was when initially 
captured, demonstrating significantly less violent 


behavior and fewer breach attempts. 


It is likely, therefore, that SCP-001 merely died of old 
age. 


An autopsy for SCP-001 has been scheduled for 
19/08/1961. 


Foundation Wide Update: ADRX-19 Closure 
Date: 01/06/1980 


Summary: ADRX-19 was the first of the Foundation's 
dedicated containment locations, and its legacy still 
bears an impact on operations today. The leading 
containment site (Site-19) was named in honor of 
ADRX-19, as a tribute to the dedication of the individuals 
who worked at that site. 


Many of the current operational practices and 
architectural designs that are used by all Foundation 
sites were first conceived and implemented at ADRX-19. 
These are many and vary wildly in nature, but ADRX-19 
was the first Foundation building to truly have the 
"Foundation style" that is so familiar to us all. 


However, ADRX-19 is growing old, and it is time for the 
Foundation to move on from these roots. Beginning in 
1970, Phase | of a plan to phase out ADRX-19 began. 
As a result of this, anomalous objects ceased to be sent 
towards ADRX-19 for containment, and were sent to 
other locations, including its successor, Site-19. 


Beginning in 1973, all Keter class objects were 
transferred from ADRX-19 to other, more appropriate 
locations. Beginning in 1977, all Euclid class objects 
were transferred. And now, all remaining Safe or 
Neutralized objects are being transferred to other sites. 
Archival and low security objects will be sent to 
appropriate locations. 


SCP-734: The Baby 


Item #: SCP-734 
Object Class: Keter 


Special Containment Procedures: Any staff entering the 
containment area must be in contained atmosphere haz-mat suits. 
No physical contact is to be made with SCP-734. Anyone making 
physical contact with SCP-734 is to be immediately removed from 
the containment area and placed in quarantine for observation. Any 
items exiting the testing area must be sterilized before being allowed 
to exit the containment area. 


Blood is to be drawn via arterial catheter once daily, the amount to 
be determined and re-evaluated monthly. Catheter is to be cleaned 
and maintained three times daily. Blood drawn is to be immediately 
sealed and the container sterilized before cryogenic storage. Blood 
may be stored for five years, after which it is to be incinerated. 
Requests to use drawn blood must be submitted to Overwatch. 


SCP-734 must have a handler standing by at all times in full haz-mat 
gear who is to be rotated every four hours. Interaction with SCP-734 
is allowed only when in full haz-mat equipment. SCP-734 is to be 
changed and fed as needed with nutritional requirements reviewed 
and adjusted monthly. SCP-734 may be given toys with clearance 
from Overwatch. 


Description: SCP-734 appears to be a male human infant between 
seven and eight months of age. SCP-734 shows normal 
development and health for a child of his age and genetic 
background. No abnormal genetic mutations, infections, or rare 
cellular disorders have been found during any test, and no origin 
point or cause has been found for the effect SCP-734 has on human 
tissue. 


Any human tissue making contact with SCP-734 will begin to rapidly 


The actual building of ADRX-19 will be demolished once 
all objects have been relocated, and all personnel 
stationed there will be transferred to new locations. 


Overwatch would like to thank the all staff members of 
ADRX-19 for their commendable service over the past 
ninety years. Their dedication is appreciated. 


In the crate, Harold found nothing more than a pile of innuman and 
strange bones that belonged to something that should have never 
existed. The files he had been given were strange and outdated - 
they looked like they had been written decades ago and had never 
been updated. 


He had heard legends about what SCP-001 was, little stories from 
here and there. The greatest failings of the Foundation and the 
Ethics Committee or secrets too terrible for the Foundation at large 
to know or terrible monsters. It happened all the time over lunch: 
"What do you think SCP-666 is? SCP-013? SCP-1000? SCP-001 ?" 


He was disappointed, in a way, to know that it was nothing more 
than the first thing the Foundation ever threw into a box. There 
wasn't really anything important about it, not anymore, at least. 


As Harold wheeled the crate containing the remains of SCP-001 to 
the back of the storage hanger, he mused to himself about how the 
Foundation had moved on. The documentation he recovered implied 
that SCP-001 had been crucial to some of the early decisions of the 
Foundation - Keter wasn't named after the Kabbalah but a German 
doctor, for instance. 


So that's why it rhymes with Peter and not better? 


Weeks after the bones of SCP-001 came in, Wodiew was still 
thinking about it. Something just didn't sit right with how something 
as influential as it was being treated. He had always assumed that 
SCP-001 was a cause for the foundation of the Foundation, rather 
than being as unimportant he discovered it to be. 


One late night, just before he closed up the Archives for the night, 


Wodiew walked down the dank halls and found the crate that 
contained the skeleton. He cracked it open with a crowbar, and 
removed the skull. 


The Foundation had never figured out where SCP-001 had come 
from, or what it was. All they knew was that it was a demon that 
screamed radiation. It had died before they could ever figure it out - 
not that it looked like they were trying very hard when it did die. 


He couldn't justify his feelings - there was just a gut instinct that 
SCP-001 was supposed to have been important. There wasn't any 
rhyme or reason for it, he had just heard too many rumors about 
what it was. But there was nothing that justified those feelings, and 
no reason it should be any different than the rest. 


He raised the skull in his hand, examining it and turning it around, 
trying to find something that all those that had came before him had 
failed at doing, and failing at that. 


Alas, poor SCP-001. 


Tax Man 


Site 87 is one of those sites the O5s don't generally like to talk 
about. However, they do still have to monitor us. So, every couple of 
years, they send out an auditor to make sure the site hasn't fallen 
apart physically, mentally, and where it counts the most: financially. 
People get fired, entire departments get axed, anomalies are forcibly 
liquidated, work hours are cut... it's stressful for the whole site. 


Considering some of the things that have happened at 87 in the past 
two years, | think this year's audit is going to be... interesting, to say 
the least. 


- Agent Nicholas Ewell, Site 87 Chief of Security 


The Tax Man rode into the town of Sloth's Pit, Wisconsin on a cold 
winter in the back of a black Volvo. It was the most discreet car they 
could find. 


The Tax Man's job was simple: two days in this town, go to Site 87, 
write some reports about how all the departments were doing. This 
would be the first one he would be performing at this site... 87, was 
it? He looked at his watch, then up at the driver. "Is there any half- 
decent coffee shop in this town?" 


"There's Rudy's," said the driver. "| hear that's good. We, uh... have 
a bit of time before we're supposed to be at Site 87. Would you like 
to stop there, sir?" 


"So long as it isn't Charbucks," said the Tax Man, looking through 
several files on his tablet. The driver nodded, pulling up to the curb 
in front of Rudy's Coffee House. The Tax Man stepped out, 
shivering slightly. "Back in about 10, depending on how long this 
takes."