After about fifty (50) successful infections SCP-370-c enters its final 
phase. During this phase the air around the subject radiates a small 
amount of light in the visible spectrum, creating a faint yellow glow 
around the subject. This glow induces a parasympathetic ‘calming’ 
response in viewers and has a % chance of causing infection for 
every minute of visual contact. Within about a day of this radiation 
appearing, regardless of any further successful infections, a flaming 
[DATA EXPUNGED] burn marks on any surfaces it touches or 
passes through and leaving no trace of the infected subject. This 
event leaves behind an invisible patch of contagious space which 
infects anyone who passes through it. Patches seem to fade in 
approximately seven (7) days but as a precaution should be avoided 
for a full two (2) weeks. 


It has become apparent that SCP-370-c infection is being used by 
some personnel as an excuse to torment and murder fellow 
Foundation staff. The personnel responsible have been demoted to 
D-class, however considering the enormous threat posed by 
SCP-370-c the containment protocol above will not be revised. - Dr 


MOON: Yes, hold position — everyone alright? Anyone 
hit? 


WOLF 3: Negative, I'm good. 

WOLF 2: We both got cover. 

MOON: Fuck. Fuck. Since when do these things have— 
(gunfire) 

MOON: Fuck! 

(gunfire continues) 

MOON: ...what the hell? 

(gunfire continues) 

MOON: What the hell? 

WOLF 3: Are you alright, Moon?! 


MOON: Stay where you are. Stay where you are, both of 
you. 


(gunfire continues) 

MOON: (/aughing) Well, now I've seen everything. 
WOLF 2: What is it? 

MOON: Goddamn roaches. 

(six more shots, distinctly louder and clearer) 
(gunfire ceases) 

MOON: Hallway's clear. 

WOLF 3: What just happened? 


MOON: They don't have guns. They've got gun-shaped 


hands. They were waving them around and making 
gunshot noises. 


WOLF 2: Are you... are you shitting me? 

WOLF 3: That's fucking hilarious. 

MOON: You catch all that, Control? Please advise. 
CONTROL: Affirmative. Proceed with caution. 
MOON: Proceeding. Wolf 2, Wolf 3, on point. 


WOLF 3: Jesus. How the hell did these things 
compromise a site? 


MOON: Up ahead. You see that? 
WOLF 2: Barricade. 

WOLF 3: Survivors? 

MOON: Could be. C'mon. 


WOLF 2: Supplies, looks like — yeah, this looks recent, 
too. Managed to hold up a fort against the bugs. 


WOLF 3: Hey! — look, is that — 

MOON: Hey! Hey, hands up, start talking— 
WOLF 2: Fuck. She's running away— 
WOLF 3: Is that a survivor? Or is it— 


MOON: Fucking... it's hard to tell in this light. She went 
into the bathroom. Wolf 2, with me. Wolf 3, take point on 
the entrance — don't want to end up pinned inside there. 


WOLF 3: Copy. 


MOON: Let's take it easy, now... 


(door opening) 
WOLF 2: Jesus. 
(soft, muffled whimpering) 


MOON: Hey. Hey, you there? We're humans. We're here 
to take you home. Just come out, hands up, okay...? 


(whimpering grows more pronounced) 
MOON: She's in the back stall, | think. 
WOLF 2: Moon, there's a body in this stall, over here— 


WOLF 3: Hey! Hey, you! Hands up! Come over here — 
we're the rescue team! We're — shit! 


MOON: Wolf 3? What's going on? 


WOLF 3: Fuck. Fuck. | just saw — somebody down the 
hall, on our side of the barricade. They saw me, then 
started running away— 


MOON: Human? 


WOLF 3: |... | think so, yeah, | saw the face, it looked 
human, but they ran— 


MOON: Alright, let's finish in here, and— 
(ear-piercing scream) 

(scuffling, shouts) 

WOLF 2: Fuck! Fuck! 

(two gunshots) 

WOLF 2: Fucking... FUCK! 


MOON: Calm down. Calm down. Let me look at it. 


WOLF 2: It was... Jesus-fuck. 
WOLF 3: You alright in there? 


MOON: Roach in the stall. Wolf 2 got stabbed, doesn't 
look critical. 


WOLF 2: You know this shit is going to get infected— 


MOON: Relax. We're getting out of here. Control, you 
copy? 


CONTROL: Come back. 

MOON: One of our team got stabbed. One of the 
roaches, it had... a knife-hand, or something. I'm pulling 
us out for now. 

CONTROL: Affirmative. 

WOLF 3: What about — | saw someone, back there— 
MOON: You saw another roach. 


WOLF 3: I'm pretty sure | saw— 


MOON: You saw another roach, Wolf 3. Do you 
understand? 


MOON: | said, do you understand? 
WOLF 3: Affirmative. 


MOON: Alright. We're pulling out. C'mon, I'll help you up 


(scuffling sounds) 
WOLF 2: Christ. 
UNIDENTIFIED: Goddamn... roaches... 


WOLF 3: You catch that? 


MOON: Where's that coming from? 


UNIDENTIFIED: (multiple, chanting) Goddamn... 
roaches... 


WOLF 3: Oh... oh, shit. Moon, get out here right now. 
(door opening) 
MOON: What — holy shit. 


UNIDENTIFIED: (over a dozen, chanting) Goddamn... 
roaches... 


WOLF 3: They're just... claws and teeth— 
(smashing sounds, objects rattling) 


WOLF 2: Fuck! Fuck, they're slamming into the 
barricade— 


WOLF 3: What the fuck did they mimic?! 


UNIDENTIFIED: (dozens more, chanting) Goddamn... 
roaches... 


(smashing sounds intensify) 

MOON: Open fire! Open fire! 

(gunfire) 

WOLF 3: Shit! 

MOON: Throwing a grenade! Get down! 
UNIDENTIFIED: Goddamn... roaches... 
(muffled explosion) 

MOON: Keep—(stfatic) 


UNIDENTIFIED: Goddamn... roaches... 


WOLF 2: Fucking stabbed me fucking—(static) 
MOON: Wolf 3, do you—(sfatic) 

WOLF 3: (brief scream, ended on static) 

MOON: Contr—(static) 

WOLF 1: Fuck! I'm going in! Moon, do you read? 
MOON: S—(stfatic) 


CONTROL: Wolf 1, maintain position. Nu-13 is coming 
to get you and secure the entrance. 


WOLF 1: Fuck you. I'm going the fuck in. 
CONTROL: Negative, Wolf 1, maintain your— 
WOLF 1:1 said FUCK YOU. 

UNIDENTIFIED: (distant) Goddamn... roaches... 
WOLF 1: Jesusfuck. There's... 

CONTROL: Wolf 1, get out of there. 


WOLF 1: There's gotta be almost a hundred of — wait, | 
think | see — Moon, do you read? 


(static) 
WOLF 1: Moon! Do you copy? Moon, is that you? Moon! 
(distant, garbled screams) 


WOLF 1: That was — it was Moon, | swear it was Moon, 
| saw his uniform, that had to have been... Moon! Moon! 
Come back! Moon! 


CONTROL: Wolf 1, come back. 


WOLF 1: Fucking... | can't — there's — Moon! 


(gunshots) 

CONTROL: Wolf 1, come back. Is that you firing? 
UNIDENTIFIED: Moon! Come back! Moon! 
(gunshots) 

CONTROL: Wolf 1, come back. 

(gunshots) 

CONTROL: Wolf 1, do you read? 

(gunshots) 

CONTROL: Wolf 1, are you there? 


WOLF 1: I'm here. I've got Moon and Wolf 2 with me. 
Their comms are toast. Wolf 3 is dead. On our way out. 


CONTROL: Copy. Epsilon-9 is on their way. 


<End log.> 


SCP-3036: Stretchy, Clown-Hunter Extraordinaire 


Item #: SCP-3036 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-3036 is to be kept in a 
standard humanoid containment cell in Site-43's B-Wing. SCP-3036 
is allowed exactly one hour of recreation every day. During this time, 
it is allowed to interact with other anomalous humanoids of similar 
psychological disposition. 


SCP-3036 is not permitted to use its anomalous abilities outside of 
its containment cell or during testing, and will have its recreational 
privileges revoked for three weeks if it violates this condition. This is 
in order to acclimate it to its current environment within Foundation 
custody. SCP-3036 is to attend medical check-ups by Site-43's 
medical staff for SCP-3036-A-1 and -2's safety. 


Description: SCP-3036 is a humanoid entity entirely made out of 
human flesh, muscles and assorted bodily fluids, standing at 185 
centimeters tall and weighing 100 kilograms. Black, white and red 
ink designs are tattooed to the object's face and along its upper and 
lower body. SCP-3036 shows no signs of a nervous system, leaving 
it incapable of sensing touch. Additionally, the object contains no 
traces of a bone structure or reproductive system. 


Despite this, SCP-3036 is sapient, and fully capable of completing 
activities that would require higher brain functions and a homeostatic 
environment. SCP-3036 is fully capable of speaking and reading in 
English. Personnel interacting with SCP-3036 describe it as calm 
and blunt when it comes to individualized conversations between 
itself and psychologists. 


SCP-3036 is capable of stretching itself to anomalous lengths, the 
longest recorded attempt being at forty-seven meters. Object does 


not react with discomfort from being stretched at such lengths. 
SCP-3036 has often been found stretching itself in its containment 
cell when no other recreational activities are possible. When 
damaged, either from performing or being harmed, SCP-3036 is 
capable of regenerating lost tissue in a short amount of time. 
According to SCP-3036, it has survived: 


« An indeterminate amount of 12 gauge ammunition 
¢ Assault from an unidentified species of bear 
« Achainsaw being lodged into its head. 


SCP-3036-A designates two humanoid entities living inside of 
SCP-3036, both located in the subject's stomach region. SCP-3036- 
A have been surgically conjoined at the hip, and suffer from stunted 
growth. It is believed this stunted growth is not natural, instead 
caused by a currently unknown party. Due to the location of 
SCP-3036-A instances, it is currently impossible to record the exact 
weight and height of both instances. 


These entities, individually designated as SCP-3036-A-1 and 
SCP-3036-A-2, form a parasitic relationship with SCP-3036. Based 
off of X-rays of SCP-3036, the mouths of SCP-3036-A-1 and 
SCP-3036-A-2 have been surgically connected to a tube inside of 
SCP-3036's throat. This is where SCP-3036-A instances acquire the 
necessary nutrition. SCP-3036 has denied any and all attempts to 
remove SCP-3036-A instances from its stomach. 


Recovery: SCP-3036 was captured following an attempted raid on 
Gol-233 ("Herman Fuller's Circus of the Disquieting") in 1999. 
SCP-3036 was left behind due to unknown reasons, but SCP-3036 
claimed it was due to "bad blood" between itself and fellow 
performers. SCP-3036 was recovered with no resistance. 


Interview Log 


Interviewer: Dr. Henderson 
Subject: SCP-3036 


<Begin Log> 


Dr. Henderson: What is your name? 


SCP-3036: | don't remember my old name. Long time 
since | thought about it. I've always been called Stretchy 
by Fuller and my fellow performers ever since | became 
like this. Not that it really matters. 


Dr. Henderson: Why can't you remember? 


SCP-3036: Hell if | know. Maybe it had something to do 
with the surgery. 


Dr. Henderson: Surgery? 


SCP-3036: Yeah, the surgery. It's how they created us. 
You don't turn a seven-year-old into a clown over night, 
you know. 


Dr. Henderson: What did this surgery entail? 


SCP-3036: Oh, you know, the usual. Fuck the kid up, rip 
out everything that made them human to begin with, 
pump hundreds of chemicals into their brain, some 
magic to patch them back up, and you got a kid with 
more emotional baggage than yourself. 


Dr. Henderson: | thought the circus bred clowns. 


SCP-3036: Oh, they do. We just so happened to make 
up most of the clowns that worked there. It was only 
when Labs went under did they switch to a more, uh, 
‘humane’ way of creating clowns. We were the last 
generation of human finalists. 


Dr. Henderson: 'We'? 
SCP-3036: Yes. You think they'd only create one of me? 


One of us? 


Dr. Henderson: What was your profession at the circus? 


Addendum 370-a: 


The circumstances of SCP-370’s original retrieval are unknown. It 
was found in the ruins of Site- , a remote Foundation base in eastern 
. These containment protocols in their original form and the 
described steel box were found in a sealed vault along with a single 
corpse, identified as Dr. __, a known Satanist, and the Doctor's 
personal log, which was found to be SCP-370 contagious. The rest 
of the site was abandoned and no other dead bodies were found, 
although signs of struggle were ubiquitous. The rest of the site’s 
stored data on SCP-370 had been erased or destroyed, although a 
few useful notes on other SCPs were recovered, particularly SCP- 


Several infection events occurred during recovery efforts. These 
were contained with extreme prejudice and the infection was 
believed extinct. SCP-370 was briefly designated ‘Safe’. However, in 
light of recent [DATA EXPUNGED] Keter designation has been 
restored and anti-memetic security has been tightened throughout 
all Foundation sites. 


Addendum 370-b: 


Dr. _'s log has been successfully purged of memetic 
infectiousness and is cleared for viewing by authorized personnel. 
The same precautions described for reading this article also apply to 
the log. 


INCIDENT 370-A 
« SCP-369 | SCP-370 | SCP-371 » 


SCP-3036: Clown hunter. 
Dr. Henderson: Explain. 


SCP-3036: You see, the bred clowns could be a little bit 
more, uh, how you put it, 'rebellious'. Runaways were 
common, and plans to run away were rampant. Fuller 
wouldn't have liked this, oh no no no. Since we weren't 
useful to the crowd anymore, Fuller let us have some fun 
with the new-breeds. And have fun we did. 


Dr. Henderson: And what type of ‘fun' did you have? 


SCP-3036: Well, let's just say you'd be surprised how 
thick a clown's skull can be. Honestly, it sorta looks like 
broken glass. 


Dr. Henderson: And how long have you been working 
as a ‘clown hunter’? 


SCP-3036: For as long as the new-breeds have been 
around. | still remember my first hunt. | can. still 
remember the sound of wheezing and moaning coming 
from the clown as | chased it through the woods. My 
heart, or what was left of it, was pumping in my chest. | 
grabbed him by the throat from fifty feet away, crushing 
his neck. | could hear it all the way from over there. 


Dr. Henderson: And what did you do to it? 


SCP-3036: | taught him a lesson. After crushing his 
neck, | threw him onto a tree. The pink blood was 
pouring out of his stomach. It looked like ice cream if you 
squinted real hard. He tried screaming in that terrible, 
sing-songy voice he was born with. Tried screaming to 
the tune of the circus theme. | dragged him back to the 
circus tent, the ice cream blood pouring out of his 
stomach. If | didn't know what it was, | probably would 
have eaten it. 


Dr. Henderson: Jesus. 


SCP-3036: When | got back to the circus grounds, | 
signaled the other new-breeds. | showed them his 
wheezing, empty corpse as | held it ten feet in the air. He 
was coughing up blood. | showed them what happens 
when you fuck with Fuller. And you know what Fuller did 
to me? 


Dr. Henderson: What? 


SCP-3036: He hugged me. He told me that he was the 
proudest circus owner in America. | made him proud. | 
made him proud of me. Of me of all people! He let me 
keep them instead of killing them, as a reward. 


Dr. Henderson: Them? 
SCP-3036 points to its stomach. 
SCP-3036: My brothers. 

Dr. Henderson: B-Brothers? 


SCP-3036: Yes. You see, they didn't survive the surgery. 
They were gonna be like me, but instead of being 
entertainers, they were gonna be clown hunters. 
However, they fucked up. Didn't know what they were 
doing, and, well, their brains got scrambled. Saw it 
myself. Their brains looked like a bunch of cracked eggs 
put into a white bowl. Fuller was gonna kill them, but, 
after what | did, he decided to, you know, let me keep 
them. 


Dr. Henderson: How old were they when this 
happened? 


SCP-3036: | don't remember. They were my juniors, 


though. Probably single digits. Not that it matters much. 
Couldn't leave them to die, even if | wanted to. 


Dr. Henderson: Why were you left behind? 


SCP-3036: Masky probably did it on purpose. The little 
cunt always did hate me. 


Dr. Henderson: Masky? 


SCP-3036: Nickname. Promotional shit called him 'Mr. 
Mask’. Gimmick was he could look like anyone. Clown 
hunter like me, and, like me, last generation of human- 
clowns. 


Dr. Henderson: Why do you think he hated you?