Dmitri leaned forward, clearly forming an argument. But whatever he 
was going to say was lost when Sweater Man lifted his garment, 
pulled out a handgun, and fired a round into the ceiling. 


Chairs squealed as frightened children and parents alike dove for 
cover under the wooden Ikea tables. A baby started crying. 
Someone spilled a drink on Dmitri’s back. 


Tilda glared at Dmitri with a tone carrying less alarm and more ‘What 
the hell have you done?’ 


“ALRIGHT. NOBODY MOVE AND THIS IS OVER REAL QUICK.” 


Sweater Man swept his weapon over the cashier and instructed her 
to begin filling a carryout bag with bills from all the registers. 


Dmitri relaxed his hands, allowing his right arm to drop nonchalantly 
to his side, and waited. 


When Sweater’s head was turned to the cashier, he nodded at Tilda 
and rose. With smooth, practiced motion, Dmitri’s gun hand lifted the 
hem of his shirt and drew his trusted sidearm. The weapon rose 
swiftly, meeting the target— 


Dmitri slipped on a spilled milkshake. In stark contrast to how 
gracefully he had risen, he collapsed to the floor. His sidearm landed 
on the table in front of Tilda. 


There were only seconds to react, but her brain still jumped through 
the usual hoops. This was not a choice she had wanted to make. 
Ideally she didn’t want to make any choice in this kind of situation, 


but the die was already cast. 


She felt her hand wrap around the bakelite grip as she, too, rose 
from her seat and drew down on Sweater Man. 


The sights aligned, and beyond the front blade sight she could see 
the target’s eyes go wide. 


Flash. 


She felt, more than heard, the report of the gun. Her eyes flinched. 
She felt her hand absorb the recoil as the slide cycled backwards 
and chambered a new round. She watched the lacquered steel 
casing fly past her peripheral vision. Glass shattered and children 
screamed, all of it silenced by piercing, ringing tinnitus. 


When her eyes focused, Sweater Man was gone. The spent casing 
hit the floor, and with that her hearing returned. 


Dmitri stayed on the floor and lit his cigarette. “You see what | mean, 
yes?” 


She exhaled. 


“You should have Everett look at that bruise,” Tilda said as they 
alternately walked and limped through the hall. The adrenaline crash 
was hitting her hard, and she wanted nothing more than to sink into 
her office chair and do paperwork again. Maybe that was the real 
lesson to be taken from this: an appreciation of stability and relative 
safety. 


“No, because he will try to replace my lungs again. | told him never 
again, not after last time,” Dmitri said with an emphatic chop of his 
hand. 


Finally they reached her office. She invited him in for a drink out of 
courtesy, but he politely declined, reminding her that she still had 
work to do. 


A question loomed on her mind, and she teetered indecisively as to 
whether she should ask or not. She decided she had to know. 


"Dmitri...did you orchestrate all of that?" 


He gave a curt laugh. "I only wish | could have planned that. So 
perfect! It was complete co-insidious." 


"__.Coincidence." 


"Yes, that is what | said." He clapped her on the shoulder, beaming. 
"| want you to know, you did well, even though you missed. | am 
sure the police found him." 


Despite her exhaustion she managed to crack a grim smile. “Thank 
you. No more practical lessons, if you please.” 


“| will try to honor this request, Direktor.” 


She sunk into her chair. The cursor greeted her. It had kindly 
remained where she left it. 


Eldritch Application 


The man behind the desk watched as the cosmic horror before him 
paced back and forth, ranting what could only be described as its 
head off. "I am the ultimate hive mind. My influence is everywhere, 
though you normally cannot feel it. | am He Who Waits Behind the 
Wall. When | break through those tiny cracks in your reality, | am the 
very personification of decay and destruction. Black ooze, great 
tentacles, blood flowing from your eyes. My six mouths are ever 
screaming, and the seventh one shall sing the song that ends the 
world. My very gaze is enough to drive men to madness.” It moved 
in closer, and made several dramatic motions with its tentacular 
appendages. 


"No force can match mine. When | deem your world to be over, it 
shall come to an end. My power goes far beyond that of any other 
being you can think of." It worked its mass into the small wooden 
chair, and glared at the man. "| am decay, and | am destruction. | 
am Zalgo, and | am coming." 


Multiple tentacles slammed into the desk. "So why can't! be an 
SCP?" 


The director of the SCP Foundation showed no shock towards the 
black, amorphous monstrosity that sat before him. The piercing red 
light from the pinpoints deep in the dark mass did not phase him. 
Instead, they merely reflected off his glasses and his balding head 
as he looked down at his desk. 


"Look," he began, riffling through a sheet of papers, "this is your fifth 
time attempting to apply for SCP status. | don't know how many 
times I've said this to you, so listen up. This is the final time. We do 
not have any interest in taking you in. You just don't work." 


"Did you not hear me?" demanded Zalgo, growing in size rapidly. "I 
am the ultimate hive mind, and..." 


"Yes, yes, we've been through this before. You are the ultimate 
force of destruction, and can end the world, and all those other 
qualifications you're always on about. There's no need to repeat 
them again. Now, I'm not saying | encourage it, but why don't you 
just go and do something dangerous, if you want in so badly?" 


"Do something dangerous?’ My work over the past few years has 
been beyond dangerous. | have driven countless innocent children 
to madness, caused suicides all over this world, and bled into 
anywhere | can fit, and you ask me to do something dangerous?" 
The black mass rose up, drawing on its awesome power. 


"Zalgo," stated the director flatly. "You find web comics, and you 
corrupt them." 


The abomination from beyond the stars stared blankly at the 
director, then sank back into his chair, looking defeated. "Why do 
you want to be an SCP, anyways?" 


"Well," sighed Zalgo through one of the non-screaming mouths, "that 
bloody Slender Man's been spreading his image around for quite 
some time now. Getting people talking about what he does, placing 
himself in photographs, inspiring stories, the usual affair. He's even 
got his own web series now! Can you believe that?" 


"Yes," said the director warily, cocking his head to the side, "but 
what does that have to do with anything?" 


"I'm new to the eldritch abomination thing, and need some publicity. 
The whole thing with the web comics is a start, but it's easy for 
people to use my methods and never mention my name, and let me 
tell you, that's a big mark against me. You lot take me in, and I'ma 
big name. Not as big as Yog-Sothoth or Azathoth, but big enough to 
get some recognition. So, how about it?" 


An awkward silence settled over the room as the director took off his 
glasses and wiped them off with one hand, while holding his 
forehead with the other, deep in thought. Zalgo shifted nervously in 
his chair, awaiting the director's answer. At length, the director 
placed his glasses aside, and began speaking. 


"Barring the fact that | refuse to participate in some weird contest of 
abominations, there's one big reason as to why we can't take you in. 
It's not a matter of money or difficulty of containment, oh no. We've 
got SCPs like 682, and it's pocket change to keep it locked up, even 
when it breaks out. And since you seem willing to cooperate with us, 
you'd be easy as pie to contain, as well. No, it's that you're just not 
interesting enough." 


Zalgo seemed to boil with fury at this statement, and opened several 
mouths to make a retort, but the director held him off. "Allow me to 
explain. You are bursting with power, and have the capacity to end 
this world with a thought. That's all well and good for other 
organizations. But here at the SCP Foundation, we can't just accept 
you on those criteria. It's far too much. You're overpowered, you 
don't have a hook, and quite frankly, you're boring. When you get 
down to it, you just don't fit in with our image." 


For a moment, it looked as if Zalgo was ready to end the director, 
right then and there. A few tense moments passed, the seconds 
ticking away as slowly as they could, before his shoulders sank, and 
the black mass sighed, "Alright, alright. You win. I'll just see myself 
out." 


As the chair scraped across the floor, the director said, "Try 
Warehouse 13, or maybe the Chaos Insurgency. I'm sure they'll be a 
little more lenient than we are." Zalgo gave a grunt of thanks, and 
was gone, having melted into the walls. The director allowed himself 
a few moments of peace, before calling out, "Next!" and preparing 
himself for the next sob story. 


A colossal green man with a squishy head and long, wavy beard of 
tentacles squeezed his way into the office, and stuffed himself into 
the chair. Riffling through a few more papers, the director looked up 
and stated, "Thank you for joining me today, Mr...?" 


"Cthulhu." 


Emergency Action Bulletin 


UNITED STATES FEDERAL 
EMERGENCY MANAGEMENT 
AGENCY 


CODE 102-01 ACTION BULLETIN 
CRUCIAL INFORMATION BELOW 


EMERGENCY 
BROADCAST 001 


The United States Federal Emergency Management 
Agency (FEMA), in conjunction with the United States 
Department of Defense (DOD) and the Office of the 
President of the United States, has issued a Code 
102-01 Emergency Action Bulletin for all United States 
territories. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. SEEK SHELTER 
IMMEDIATELY. It is vitally important that all citizens in 
affected areas listen to government instructions and 
remain vigilant at all times. 


INFORMATION FOLLOWS 


At 5:21 PM Eastern Standard Time, several unidentified 
aircraft entered US airspace above the Florida and 
Georgia regions. The aircraft are believed to have first 
been detected by local radar and air traffic control 
entering the Florida coastal areas from the Atlantic 


Ocean. The FAA has been unable to determine the 
origins and nationality of the pilots, though deducing 
such information assumes they belong to a recognized 
political state. Aircraft demonstrate properties 
inconsistent with any known commercial or military 
vehicle and are capable of achieving extremely high 
velocities. It is believed at least some of these aircraft 
are bearing explosive, biological, or chemical payloads. 


Please remain in your emergency shelters and await 
further instructions from FEMA. If you do not possess an 
emergency shelter or are in a public area, seek out a 
basement or other subterranean structure immediately. It 
is currently not known if or when the next emergency 
broadcast will be transmitted. It is unlikely that 
emergency services will be available for some time. 
Additional information will be transmitted as it becomes 
available. 


EMERGENCY 
BROADCAST 002 


The United States Federal Emergency Management 
Agency (FEMA), in conjunction with the United States 
Department of Defense (DOD) and the Office of the 
President of the United States, has issued a Code 
102-01 Emergency Action Bulletin for all United States 
territories. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. SEEK SHELTER 
IMMEDIATELY. It is vitally important that all citizens in 
affected areas listen to government instructions and 
remain vigilant at all times. 


INFORMATION FOLLOWS 


At this time, FEMA is able to confirm that the 
aforementioned unidentified aircraft have successfully 
delivered multiple biological payloads throughout the 
continental United States. Known targets include New 


York, Detroit, Los Angeles, Boston, Orlando, Miami, 
Atlanta, and Honolulu, though other cities may be 
affected as well. Due to the nature of this situation, 
government resources are strained. It is not known when 
government operatives will be able to perform search 
and rescue operations in affected regions. The payloads 
delivered by these aircraft appear to be gaseous, toxic 
substances that will induce serious injury or death if 
inhaled. Limited field reports suggest some HAZMAT 
suits and filtration apparatuses are capable of reducing 
or negating exposure to the gas. Under no 
circumstances should you expose yourself to the gas, 
intentionally or otherwise. Remain in your shelter until 
further instructions are issued. 


Note that the gas appears to be colorless, odorless, and 
partially translucent. There will be little to no indication 
that an area is affected by the gas. The early signs and 
symptoms of exposure to the gas are not known at this 
time. For your safety, avoid all public areas indefinitely. 


EMERGENCY 
BROADCAST 003 


The United States Federal Emergency Management 
Agency (FEMA), in conjunction with the United States 
Department of Defense (DOD) and the Office of the 
President of the United States, has issued a Code 
102-01 Emergency Action Bulletin for all United States 
territories. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. SEEK SHELTER 
IMMEDIATELY. It is vitally important that all citizens in 
affected areas listen to government instructions and 
remain vigilant at all times. 


INFORMATION FOLLOWS 


This is a reminder to remain in your emergency shelters 
indefinitely. Ignore all sounds you believe may be 


office. Security investigating found Dr. L on the floor of his office, 
bleeding heavily from self inflicted wounds at his wrist. Dr. L 
claimed the wounds were inflicted when he tried to remove the 
tattoo, after it began constricting upon his wrist. Medical 
investigation showed the only damage was that inflicted by Dr. L 
digging at his skin with his own fingers. There was no sign of his 
tattoo. 


Shortly after, acting on orders of the Site Director, a security team 
broke down the door of Researcher C 's living quarters, after he 
failed to answer his personal phone, and site pages. Researcher 

C 's corpse was found in his bathroom, his chest burst open 
from the inside as if by a great pressure. Further medical 
investigation revealed all the major organs of his chest were 
missing, but no other damage. A trail of bloody claw prints led to the 
shower drain, which had been ripped away. 


A full exploration and cleaning of the Sites drainage and sewer 
system turned up nothing unusual. 


« SCP-833 | SCP-834 | SCP-835 » 


emanating from immediately outside your shelter. Ignore 
any "knocking", doorbell ringing, or other indications that 
somebody may be attempting to gain access to your 
shelter or the encapsulating structure. Ignore any 
vocalizations not made by members of your party. 
Remain as silent as possible at all times. Avoid excess 
emission of sound, light, and odors. Ignore any 
personnel requesting access to your shelter or claiming 
to be an affiliate of the United States government. 


It is imperative that your shelter remain sealed at all 
times. If you believe an unidentified individual has 
entered your shelter, immediately seek out a sealed 
room and lock the door. Do not make any noise. Do not 
compromise your location in any way. Further 
information will follow. 


EMERGENCY 
BROADCAST 004 


The United States Federal Emergency Management 
Agency (FEMA), in conjunction with the United States 
Department of Defense (DOD) and the Office of the 
President of the United States, has issued a Code 
102-01 Emergency Action Bulletin for all United States 
territories. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. SEEK SHELTER 
IMMEDIATELY. It is vitally important that all citizens in 
affected areas listen to government instructions and 
remain vigilant at all times. 


INFORMATION FOLLOWS 


This is an emergency broadcast. This is not a drill. It is 
vitally important that you listen to all information that 
follows.