“Hey, Lucas,” the stranger breathed, an envelope in one hand. He 
offered it to the student with a dull smile. Lucas found himself unable 
to read the stranger’s face; it was an expression of flaccid 
acceptance, of menial happiness... but there was something in the 
eyes. They twitched. They burned. 


“Thank you,” Lucas breathed, and the room shuddered. The air 
shook. 


The letter slid into his fingers, and immediately Lucas dropped the 
pen, ignoring the pencil as it clattered on the ground. The pen. The 
pen. The pen. Yes, the pen. The letter now. The letter was there. 
The letter was always there. The stranger stared at him, and the 
eyes twitched. They burned. They smiled. Their teeth shined. They 
glinted, even. They watched. 

Reality re-asserted itself. Lucas breathed, and the room shuddered. 
The air shook. 


“Thank you.” 


The stranger gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Henry 
had issues with it, too. It’s not as hard as you'd think! Or, so we’re 
told. | wouldn't know, really.” 


“Issues with...?” 
The stranger paused for a second. The smile faded. 


“Read the letter, Lucas. And, don’t worry. We'll talk soon, okay? Try 
not to bring down the student center.” 


Lucas breathed. “Thank you.” He had to remember to breath. He 
always had to remember. Contract the diaphragm, pull the 


intercostal- 


“Hey, do you want Henry’s number? I’m sure he could help you a bit. 
Wouldn't it be rad if you two were related?” 


Rad? 


That broke the tone of the exchange. It was informal. The world 
stopped watching. Lucas breathed. “Do I... know you?” 


“Nah. But dude, you will. Hey, | bet we'll be good friends. You'll see. 
I’m a third year.” 


Lucas looked around. No one stared. No one pointed. No one 
thought of him, or the stranger. What gave? 


“Do | just... read it?” 


The stranger nodded. “Yeah, just do it somewhere private. If 
someone read it over your shoulder... yeah, that’d suck. Trust me. 
Combustion ain’t fun. | think that’s what these do nowadays, 
anyways.” 


The letter was in his backpack now. Lucas looked at the letter in his 
hand. The stranger handed him the letter. “Hey, hold onto it. Don’t 
worry, nothing will happen to ya’. And I’m sure you won't have 
issues finding somewhere alone anyways, huh?” 


Lucas gave him a sideways look. Angled, confused. 


“Oh,” the stranger toned, frowning now. “I’m sorry, dude. That was 
just insensitive. Uh, listen, call Henry some time. He can help you, 
yeah? I’m sure you’d want to understand.” 


Lucas nodded, and grabbed the letter from his post box in the 
student center’s post office. His fingers glazed over the paper, the 
sticky note with “Henry” written on it still there. A phone number was 
written across the bottom, and Lucas grabbed his cell phone. He 
typed it in, and grabbed his cell phone from his pocket, putting the 
number into a new contact. He opened his contact list, and opened 
the contact “Henry”, knowing that it was always there. The number 
was there. It was always there. 


The letter in his hand. Yes. He sat in his chair, in his dorm, opening 
it right there in the post office. 


No. It had to be private. He asserted the thought — dorm. Single 
dorm. 


‘Please,’ he thought to himself. Uust this once, don’t work against 
me.’ 


Dorm. 
Good. 
Lucas opened the letter, and breathed. “Thank you,” he murmured. 


And Lucas breathed. 


Dear Potential Rushee, 


On behalf of Theta Omega Theta Fraternity, 
let us start by congratulating you on your 
acceptance into the University of Chicago. 
Attending the University is, in itself, a letter of 
prestige. Of the utmost importance to our 
relationship to the University is the 
importance it holds in our brotherhood. We 
send you this letter in hopes that you may 
become a Fraternity Brother during your time 
here. Brotherhood guarantees an eye- 
opening education into further academia. 


Nationally founded in 1889, Theta Omega 
Theta Fraternity currently has 84 active 
chapters throughout the United States, with 
the Nu Theta Chapter being the thirteenth 
installed. Since 1895, Nu Theta Chapter has 


labored and bled as brothers to further the 
onset of our goals as a fraternity. The 
Brothers of Theta Omega Theta never forget 
the duties and values by which they hold 
themselves, above all campus activities. In 
the one hundred and nineteen years since 
Nu Theta Chapter’s foundation, this 
upcoming cycle will perhaps be the most 
riveting, and definitely one of the most 
advanced. We currently consist of thirty-one 
members who through research, 
development, and the study of the bizarre, 
have become renowned fraternity members 
in the system. With our current leadership 
and third-party connections in place, Nu 
Theta Chapter is rapidly approaching the 
peak of its conditional existence. We seek 
men of specific and rigorous qualification to 
call Brother, demanding a diverse and 
effective Brotherhood. 


The rush period is one of the only times we 
perform recruitment, with a very rare 
exception. We usually begin recruitment for 
the upcoming year in January and continue 
on until Formal Rush, which is October 1st- 
October 5th. Rush events include various 
events of both entertaining and enlightening 
qualities, provided in a relaxed environment 
that allows future Brothers to ease into our 
specific area of academic advancement. 
Some of our more exciting annual events 
include Poker Night, extra-dimensional 
summoning, paintball trips outside of Hyde 


SCP-840: Drain Feeder 


Item #: SCP-840 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: Due to SCP-840’s presence in 
ecosystems across the globe, SCP-840 cannot be fully contained. 
Outbreaks and potential outbreaks of SCP-840 are to be reported to 
either Dr. _ or biological research overseers for immediate 
containment. 


Three samples of SCP-840 are kept in Bio-Research Area-12 for 
study. Samples are to be habituated within segments of PCB piping, 
30 mm (1.2 inches) in diameter and 300 mm (11.81 inches) in 
length, and provided with a constant flow of water containing 
biological material to ‘digest’ three times a week. Samples must not 
be allowed to grow beyond the length of the pipe, and screening of 
bio-site drainage systems for containment breaches is to be 
conducted every six months. 


Description: SCP-840 is a type of amoeba that thrives in dark, 
damp environments, which given the correct circumstances will form 
a unique symbiotic relationship, ‘fusing’ together by secreting an 
extremely viscous mucus. These fused colonies are capable of 
replicating many of the functions of animal tissues, particularly that 
of vital organs. Although SCP-840 has a prolific growth and 
reproduction rate, colonies are capable of existing unnoticed for 
years. 


Pipes and drainage systems are the preferred habitat of SCP-840. 
To date, there has only been one observed instance of SCP-840 
colonising a natural environment (see incident report I-840A-1). 
Using the exterior of the pipe as an exoskeleton SCP-840 will, over 
time, convert these systems into an extended digestive system, 
capable of extracting nutrients and moisture from passing biological 
matter. Material is transported by means of a constant or frequent 


Park, relaxed nights in downtown Chicago 
and on Navy Pier, anomalous mixology, and 
bowling nights. For every function the 
chapter will provide transportation, lodging, 
and anything else that you may need. 
Although we do focus significantly on our 
summer rush program, we also always have 
a very successful formal rush program. If you 
are unable to make it to any summer events, 
we will still make every effort to meet you at 
the beginning of the school year or during 
Formal Rush. 


If you have any questions at all, don’t be 
afraid to call my cell, e-mail me, or make 
contact via astral projection. Please also fill 
out our Rush Interest Form to receive further 
information on how you can join our 
fraternity. We wish you the best of luck at the 
University of Chicago and look forward to 
seeing you here soon. 


Theta Omega Theta Hub|| TBA => 


Exit History 


Two time travellers sat across the table from one another in 
matching lab-coats, hands folded, eyeing each other suspiciously. 
Dr. Thaddeus Xyank pulled his glasses from his face, rubbed the 
bridge of his nose, and set them back in place. 


He had seen it himself. They cordoned off the hallway during school 
hours on February 2nd, 1954 under the guise of electrical 
maintenance. In a weathered pair of overalls he stood with arms 
crossed and watched as two lizards materialized out of thin air and 
dropped to the ground. He ordered the wing left closed for another 
three hours, had some panelling replaced, and thanked the principal 
for his patience before departing for home through the men’s room 
door. That brought the number of organisms recovered up to 84%, 
and the old story of ‘I don’t know what happened’ stopped making 
any kind of sense. 


That was 25 minutes and 16, 17, 18 seconds ago. 


“Alright,” Thad said, picking up the remote next to him and mashing 
a button. On the wall, a recording played of D-48120 walking down a 
dilapidated hallway before suddenly disappearing at the end. It ran 
on a loop as he spoke. “Here’s my problem with your story.” 


Researcher Daniel Ambridge, also known as D-48120, let his head 
hit the desk, and a soft exasperated chuckle escaped his lips. 


“One,” Xyank continued. “You’re the only sapient being known to 
have passed through SCP-664 and come back prior to your 
disappearance.” 


“Yes, but you can’t very well check on those squirrels, lab rats, and 
pheasants, can you?” Ambridge said with a smirk. 


“Don't interrupt me,” Thad ordered. “Two: yes we can and have 
checked on all of those squirrels and lab rats and pheasants and 
terriers and even that pair of anoles you sent out at the same time, 
and even when they have come back 50 years prior, they all come 
back to the same geo-relative location. You did not.” 


“Well | guess I’m just lucky,” Ambridge replied, head still resting on 
the table. 


“Three,” Thad continued, losing a bit of patience. “Your time at the 
Foundation, and specifically working on SCP-664, predates all 
human testing.” 


Ambridge stayed silent, but his head came off the table. 


“By itself that’s not much, but I’ve checked your logs as well. You 
briefed every human test subject prior to their exposure, and 
performed the debriefing of all but...” Thad rolled his eyes up to 
check his notes briefly. “D-78221, who arrived at 0952 this morning. 
Now, pardon my saying so, but this confluence of events doesn’t 
look particularly good for you.” 


“What are you, a cop?” Ambridge sneered. 


“No, I’m a theoretician,” Thaddeus offered. “We’re much more 
precise.” 


Mr. Ambridge leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Whether it 
was a personal grudge about his story not being believed, or 
frustration at two weeks of incessant questioning, scanning, and 
probing, Thad couldn’t tell. “Why would | lie, hm?” Ambridge 
gestured broadly to the room around him. “You’ve got me! It doesn’t 
matter what | say, you’re not going to let me go. | know the drill. We 
received the same training, answer to the same people, swore to 
uphold the interests of the Foundation and its objectives. So what do 
| have to gain?” 


“A method of nearly untraceable escape the moment someone turns 
a blind eye,” Thad said, very matter-of-factly. He pulled D-78221’s 
deposition from his briefcase and laid it on the table, turning it and 
sliding it so Ambridge could see. “I have a sworn affidavit saying that 


our recent arrival was coached by you regarding how to control his 
temporal displacement prior to his departure.” 


“Oh, so he just came back on his own?” Ambridge asked with his 
eyebrows raised. 


“After a week in Atlantic City in 1989, yes.” Dr. Xyank slid the 
photographs across the table. “Apparently at his debriefing you were 
supposed to give him the rest of the puzzle?” 


Ambridge looked at the photos and said nothing. 


“He said something about a ‘white plain’. Said you were going to 
teach him how to get there from anywhere, but didn’t say how. Is 
that what the debriefing was going to be about?” 


Ambridge swallowed and continued to say nothing. 


“.. Instead, you were actually going to drop a meme in his head and 
make him forget the whole thing, weren’t you? Had to keep yourself 
unique or the chances of a successful escape later drop close to nil. 
Please, stop me when | start to go astray; I’m very interested in how 
this was supposed to work.” 


Ambridge looked up at Thad from under a furrowed brow, lips drawn 
tightly. At this point, he didn’t have to say anything. He knew he was 
fucked. 


“Confidentially? | don’t even care if you use it, we'll get around to 
finding you eventually. | just want to know how you plan to do it.” 


“Why?” Ambridge spat, crossing his arms. “There’s no way I'll get 
the chance now anyway. What good would it do?” 


Dr. Xyank smiled, and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Because | 
want to know. I’m a theoretician. This is what | do.” 


There were two hard knocks on the interrogation room glass, and 
Thad took to his feet, smoothing out his tie and straightening his 
coat. “You think about it for a while. If | like your answer we might 
have a place for you.” Without delay, he walked to the door and was 
buzzed out. In the dark room on the other side of the mirror, Marcus 


Kitterman had the phone pressed into his shoulder. 


“There’s a call from a Dr. Charles Anborough, L4. Said he has 
something you might want to look at.” Marcus held out the phone. 
“Line’s secure.” 


Thad took the receiver and pressed it to his ear. “Hello Dr. 
Anborough, this is Thad Xyank. What can | do for you?” 


“Yes, Dr. Xyank, hello,” came a surprisingly deep voice through the 
receiver. “I called because... well | may have something relevant to 
your field of study here, and was looking for your input.” 


“What's the initial appraisal?” 


The man on the other end of the phone sighed. “Well, there’s 
definitely a temporal element. Looks like a Safe-class SSUIS2 with a 
fixed temporal dilation pattern. Normally I’d just bag it up but—” 


“Then do what you would do normally, Dr. Anborough,” Thad 
interrupted. “If you absolutely need someone from Temporal 
Anomalies, I'll be happy to send one of my JR’s down there to run 
the watch test with you. Just now I’m in the middle of an 
interrogation regarding an anomaly which is much more subtle and 
difficult to define.” 


“SCP-664; I’ve read. That’s why I’m calling. The brief you logged this 
morning about D-78221? Particularly the excerpt about the ‘infinite 


:9 


white plain’. 


Thad’s eyebrows took the liberty of a brief visit to his hairline. “What 
about it?” 


“...[ think we’ve just discovered it.” 


“| just don’t know...” Charles said, looking solemnly at the fragment 
of wall in front of them. “I mean... I’ve seen portals before, of course, 
but normally there’s some kind of method to them.” 


“If there was a method, Dr. Anborough, there would be no anomaly,” 
Thad said, scratching below his nose. The door was not much to 


look at. Just a little trap door inset in what was left of a wall. Might 
have been a meat-locker once, or a dumb waiter, but none of that 
was left now. On the other side, the wall was flat and impenetrable; 
the repeated grinding of a diamond carbide drill bit had proven it. 


“| thought you didn’t believe in anomalies,” Charles chuckled. 


“| don’t, but I’m open to new evidence.” Thad walked up to the door 
and rapped upon it with his knuckles. It sounded hollow, almost 
flimsy. “How much analysis have you done on this? Any kind of 
radiation leakage? Interesting x-ray patterns in the wall? 
Thaumaturgic signatures?”