Test 2: SCP-010-8 constructed identically to SCP-010-2 but with the 
closest approximations available to the unreplicable components. 
Result: SCP-010-8 fails to function. 


Test 3: Unreplicable components from SCP-010-2 placed into 
proper locations on SCP-010-8. 

Result: SCP-010-2 ceases functioning with removal of components. 
SCP-010-8 begins functioning. 


Test 4: Components returned to SCP-010-2. Replicable components 
in SCP-010-2 replaced randomly with replicas 

Result: SCP-010-2 begins functioning with return of components. 
Changing replicable components for replicas does not significantly 
reduce functionality. Replacement of a damaged transistor 
decreased time from transmission to effect of SCP-010-2 response 
to commands entered in the remote by 12%. 


Addendum 010-3: 
SCP-010 has been demonstrated to work more effectively in 


creating unskilled labor than for any other task. The logo is apt. ~ Dr. 


« SCP-009 | SCP-010 | SCP-011 » 


SCP-011: Sentient Civil War Memorial Statue 


Item #: SCP-011 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: Item SCP-011 and the area 
surrounding it are to be cleaned once every day. For safety 
purposes, cleaning should start at least 30 minutes after sundown. 
Cleaning should always be performed by at least two (2) personnel, 
who are also advised to note anything unusual about the item or the 
debris cleaned up. In a situation where the item cannot be cleaned 
for more than two (2) days, local residents must be contacted and 
instructed not to approach the item. 


[Containment procedures nullified 2004] 


Description: SCP-011 is a Civil War memorial statue located in 
Woodstock, Vermont. The statue is the image of a young male 
soldier holding a musket at his side, and is carved out of granite 
quarried within the area. Occasionally, SCP-011 has been observed 
lifting its musket to the sky to fire at birds which attempt to land or 
defecate on it. Reports detail that its movements produce soft 
grinding sounds but do not cause it any structural failure. Oddly, the 
gunfire is very similar to that of a standard firearm, despite 
observations that the item only loads granite bullets and granite 
powder into the musket (which is also unharmed by the firing). In 
spite of its efforts, some fecal matter does manage to strike 
SCP-011, and it has reportedly become distressed when it has had 
a large amount of feces on it, on some rare occasions even firing at 
humans. 


Addendum: Those assigned to maintain SCP-011 are to see 
document #011-1 for instructions. 


Document #011-1: Maintenance Brief 


[Document archived 2004 - accessible to personnel with security 
clearance 2/011 or higher] 


Additional Information: SCP-011's seeming sentience has increased 
since the first report of activity in 1995. As of 2004, the item's 
containment procedures have been dropped but it remains under 
constant observation. Recorded below are landmark events in its 
activity. 


Timeline: 

3.12.1995 - Woodstock resident reports the statue's eyes 
moving, first sign of activity 

9.30.1995 - Statue shoots musket for the first time 
10.9.1995 - Statue begins shooting birds from the sky 
1.25.1996 - Registration as SCP-011, containment 
procedures begin 

4.14.1997 - SCP-011 observed moving casually and 
looking around 

5.3.2000 - After caretaker jokingly shouts "Good 
shot!" to SCP-011, the item replies, "Thank you," ina 
reportedly very human voice, first soeech from statue 
10.22.2001 - SCP-011 has conversation with caretaker 


2001 - Shooting of birds stops 

2.6.2002 - At the imploring of , SCP-011 steps 
down from its pedestal 

2003-2004 - SCP-011 reaches a human level of self- 
awareness 

11.10.2004 - Containment procedures dropped, custody 
of SCP-011 transferred to 

5.17.2005 - reports that SCP-011 is 
romantically attracted to her 

8.29.2006 - Most recent psych test reports an IQ of 133 


« SCP-010 | SCP-011 | SCP-012 » 


SCP-012: A Bad Composition 


Item #: SCP-012 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-012 is to be kept ina 
darkened room at all times. If the object is exposed to light or seen 
by personnel using a light frequency other than infrared, remove 
personnel for mental health screening and immediate physical. 
Object is to be encased in an iron-shielded box, suspended from the 
ceiling with a minimum clearance of 2.5 m (8 ft) from the floor, walls, 
and any openings. 


Description: SCP-012 was retrieved by Archaeologist K.M. 
Sandoval during the excavation of a northern Italian tomb destroyed 
in a recent storm. The object, a piece of handwritten musical score 
entitled "On Mount Golgotha", part of a larger set of sheet music, 
appears to be incomplete. The red/black ink, first thought to be 
some form of berry or natural dye ink, was later found to be human 
blood from multiple subjects. The first personnel to locate the sheet 
(Site 19 Special Salvage) had two (2) members descend into 
insanity, attempting to use their own blood to finish the composition, 
ultimately resulting in massive blood loss and internal trauma. 


Following initial investigations, multiple test subjects were allowed 
access to the score. In every case, the subjects mutilated 
themselves in order to use their own blood to finish the piece, 
resulting in subsequent symptoms of psychosis and massive 
trauma. Those subjects who managed to finish a section of the 
piece immediately committed suicide, declaring the piece to be 
"impossible to complete". Attempts to perform the music have 
resulted in a disagreeable cacophony, with each instrumental part 
having no correlation or harmony with the other instruments. 


« SCP-011 | SCP-012 | SCP-013 » 


SCP-013: Blue Lady Cigarettes 


SCP-013 


Item #: SCP-013 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-013 are to be kept ina 
Secure Storage Vault at Site-66. Exposed subjects are to be 
monitored for differences between their symptoms. Exposed 
subjects are to be interviewed daily, and any changes in perception 
are to be logged. 


Description: SCP-013 is the collective designation of 242 cigarettes 
which display similar anomalies. The most common external detail 
between instances is the presence of the words “Blue Lady” hand- 
written on each cigarette in blue ink. 


Subjects who consume the contents of SCP-013 through inhalation 
will begin to perceive themselves as a specific unidentified woman. 

Subjects have described the woman to be aged between 25 and 35 
years old, standing approximately 1.6 metres tall with an estimated 

weight of between 50 and 55 kg. Additional recurring details include 
cropped dark hair, blue eyes, and bright blue lipstick. 


Immediately after consuming an instance of SCP-013, subjects will 
gradually begin to perceive reflections of themselves as having the 
features of the woman, and will gradually perceive their bodies 
changing to reflect her appearance over the course of the following 
weeks. All changes are entirely mental; the subject’s body does not 
change outwardly, only their perception of themselves. These 
alterations are permanent, and cannot be reversed. 


SCP-013 was discovered after the suicide of an lan Miles, packed in 
a large cardboard crate in his apartment. A cursory search of the 
apartment uncovered several hundred sketches of a figure strongly 
resembling the one perceived while under 013's effect. Miles' body 


had been found sitting at a desk, dead of a massive overdose and 
draped over a handwritten note, transcribed below. 


During the investigation of Miles' apartment, one civilian investigator 
became affected by 013's effect. An embedded Agent soon 
contacted the nearest Site; the subject, the artifact, and related 
evidence were extracted and contained. 


Currently, two hundred seventeen instances of SCP-013 cigarettes 
are contained at Bio-Site 66; twenty-five SCP-013 cigarettes are 
contained at Research Sector-09, pending future research into 
similar anomalous effects. 


Addendum: Below is the note which was acquired along with 
SCP-013. 


| see her everywhere. That sad blue lady. 


| feel like | used to should know her but | can’t 
remember. | love her but | don’t know why. She’s so 
beautiful and sweet and clear but | don’t know any more. 


her favourite flavour 
where did you go 
i miss you 


« SCP-012 | SCP-013 | SCP-014 » 


SCP-014: The Concrete Man 


Item #: SCP-014 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-014 is to be kept in Site- , 
in a chair with arms, preferably facing a window. Music should be 
supplied on a regular basis, preferably constantly. This music should 
not include pieces originating after 1937. A security camera should 
be present in SCP-014's room. 


Description: SCP-014 is a Caucasian male, appearing to be 
approximately 30 years of age, with black hair, brown eyes, anda 
somewhat round face. Records indicate his name to be Robert 
Chetford, confined in 1915 to the Norwich Asylum in Connecticut for 
delusional insanity, claiming that he had been cursed to live forever, 
and was slowly turning into concrete in consequence. The asylum 
closed in 1937, and the patients were transferred to various other 
facilities. SCP-014 came to Foundation attention in 19 , from 
rumours of a patient who seemed to be entirely immobile and 
showed no signs of aging. Further investigation determined that 
acquisition was warranted. 


SCP-014 is to all outward appearances a normal man, but he does 
not appear to age, and shows no signs of possessing a metabolism. 
He does not eat, drink, perspire, or in any other way demonstrate life 
functions. He breathes only to speak, and apart from his eyes and 
vocal apparatus, is to all appearances utterly immobile. He has 
never shown any evidence of pressure ulcers despite his position 
not having varied for several decades; neither do his muscles 
appear atrophied. He can converse normally, but shows little 
knowledge of or interest in events since his confinement. 


Addendum: 
Note: Frankly, were | to interview this man without knowing his 
history, I'd think he was a perfectly sane and well-adjusted individual 


who happens to be quadriplegic. As it is, | have to conclude that he's 
the ultimate proof of the idea that the mind rules the body. He thinks 
he's concrete, and will live forever, and so he's as close to both as 
he can be. Somehow. Dr. 


« SCP-013 | SCP-014 | SCP-015 » 


SCP-015: Pipe Nightmare 


Item #: SCP-015 


Interior View of SCP-015 


Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-015 is impossible to 
move, and is contained on-site. A gap of at least 2 m (6 ft) needs to 
be maintained around the entire structure containing SCP-015 at all 
times, and no structures of any kind are to make contact with 
SCP-015's current containment structure. Exploration is permissible, 
but only in teams of three (3) with full safety lines and GPS tracking. 
Any protrusions from SCP-015 must be capped and sealed 
immediately, with the new site recorded and logged. 


No aggressive action is to be made within SCP-015. No hand or 
power tools are allowed anywhere inside SCP-015. No repairs or 
maintenance are to be made anywhere on SCP-015. 


Description: SCP-015 is a mass of pipes, vents, boilers and other 
various plumbing apparatus completely filling a warehouse in 

The pipes appear to grow when not under observation, attempting to 
connect to nearby structures via sewer systems and underground 
plumbing. SCP-015 contains, at current estimate, over 190 
kilometers (120 miles) of pipes, ranging in diameter from 2.5 cm to 
over 1 m. Some pipes appear new, while others are rusted and 
leaking. Pipes have been reported as being made of bone, wood, 
steel, pressed ash, human flesh, glass, and granite. No pipes 
composed of lead, PVC plastic, copper, or any other traditional 
material for the production of pipes have been found. 


SCP-015 reacts to tools and aggression. Any personnel acting 
violently, carrying tools, or attempting to damage or repair SCP-015 
in any way, will trigger a reaction. Any pipes near the subject will 
burst, spraying on the subject for several seconds before the flow 


suddenly stops. Pipes have been reported containing oil, mercury, 
rats, a species of insect not yet identified, ground glass, sea water, 
entrails, and molten iron. Pipes will continue to burst around the 
subject until death or retreat. 


SCP-015 was cut back to its current structure after attaching to 11 
other structures in the area. Currently, 11 personnel have been 
killed, and 20 more are still missing. Reports have been made of 
banging and screaming coming from within SCP-015. 


« SCP-014 | SCP-015 | SCP-016 » 


SCP-016: Sentient Micro-Organism 


Item #: SCP-016 
Object Class: Keter 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-016 is to remain within the 
confines of a five by five by five (5x5x5) meter room at all times, 
maintained at a temperature not to exceed zero (0) degrees Celsius. 
SCP-016 itself is to remain in the petri dish in the containment cube 
at all times unless directed otherwise by Level 4 or O5 personnel. 
Full documentation of experimentation with SCP-016 must be 
submitted before and after samples and duplicates of SCP-016 may 
be taken. Failure to follow these procedures will result in termination 
or reassignment as Class-D Personnel. Only authorized personnel 
may be permitted to obtain samples of and experiment with 
SCP-016 under BC-L5 containment conditions. 


If an outbreak does occur despite following the aforementioned 
procedures, directive base personnel are to implement a Code 
Sigma lockdown and containment plan. Infected personnel are to be 
terminated on site by security forces wearing standard Mission 
Oriented Protective Posture (MOPP) anti-biological and anti- 
chemical equipment. Should the infection not be contained after 48 
hours, the on-site nuclear device is to be detonated. Remaining 
personnel are not to be evacuated under any circumstances. 


SCP-016 has been shown to survive for up to six (6) hours on hard 
surfaces, and up to several minutes in air. High intensity ultraviolet 
light and high concentrations of ortho-phthalaldehyde solution have 
been demonstrated to be effective in disinfecting non-organic 
surfaces. 


Description: SCP-016 is a blood-borne pathogen recovered from a 
mine worker in who injured himself while working in a deep coal 
seam. Said wound became contaminated with coal dust from the 
mine, possibly infecting the worker with dormant spores. Over the 


next several days, SCP-016 proceeded to infect the remaining 
employees at the mining camp, as well as the CDC crisis team 
dispatched to deal with the epidemic. Foundation personnel then 
took over the investigation and terminated all affected personnel. 
Patient Zero was brought into captivity, and the mine shaft was 
collapsed by explosive device. 


SCP-016 has an incubation period ranging from 24 hours to two (2) 
years, depending on the presence and number of other human 
hosts in the area. First symptoms resemble the common cold, and 
include itchy eyes, runny nose, coughing, and bodily aches. Phase 
two begins in 48 hours, and consists of a controlled form of 
hemorrhagic fever, as the organism causes a small amount of blood 
to become aspirated in the lungs, creating an aerosol effect. During 
phase three, the host "crashes and bleeds out," bleeding profusely 
from every bodily orifice, including the nose, tear ducts, anus, skin 
pores, mouth, urethra, and (in case of females) vagina. Blood 
pressure skyrockets during the final stage: hosts have been 
observed projectile vomiting blood to distances of over five (5) 
meters. Should the host survive this near-total exsanguination, the 
pathogen will become dormant once more, returning to incubation 
phase.