Depicts a 
woman between 
the ages of thirty 
to forty years 
old. The woman 
is dressed ina 
large dress that 
was popular in 
the 1930's or 
early 1940's and 
holding a 
Volumetric flask. 
Depicts a male 
child eight to ten 
years old. This 
child is depicted 
having his mouth 
stitched 
together, and 
wearing overalls 
and a striped 
shirt. The child is 
sitting down 
while petting an 


03/28/1960 


04/06/1960 


46 


56 


Agent Crowely 


SCP-1619-2-C 
resting on the 
child's lap. This 
has been one of 
the two images 
found where an 
SCP-1619-2-C 
has been 
featured. 
Depicts Agent 
Crowely 
alongside 
several figures 
wearing 
Foundation 
issued lab coats, 
raising a toast to 
a figure playing 
an acoustic 
guitar. This 
instance is 
thought to 
represent Dr. 
Hayward. 
Image covers 
the entirety of 
the observatory 
it was 
discovered. 
DepictsA ina 
toga, designing 
SCP-1619-2 
instances, while 
other 
SCP-1619-2s 
aid him by 
handing him 
various types of 
pencils, paint, 
ink, and paper. 


NexttoA isa 
single 
SCP-1619-1 
entity who has 
its arms 
wrapped around 
A's torso. 


Field Log-1619-12: On 03/26/1960, a four manned exploration of 
Floor 24 was organized by Site Director Y with the intent of 
mapping out a three kilometer radius, as well as gathering more 
information on SCP-1619's origins. This group was commanded by 
Agent Crowely, and manned by Dr. Hayward, Agent Beck, and Dr. 
Sampson, along with four trained SCP-1619-2-C instances, 
SCP-1619-2-C-11, -12, -23, and -44 (pictured). 


[+] Agent Crowely Logs: LEVEL 2-1619 CLEARANCE REQUIRED 
<Begin Log> 


Agent Crowely speaking for Day One. We've 
made decent headway so far, but that's 
probably cause we found two excessively long 
hallways. It was about a mile long, right? 
<Pauses> Yeah, one and a half of a kilometer 
long for each hallway, and one's going north 
while the other's going west. We got to map 
out a quadrant before the day was over. 


Dr. Hayward got his paws on <pauses> How 
many? At least twelve? <Pauses> Twelve 
documents. Two of them are sketches of 
various -2s, and the rest are letters to and from 
A andF _ . From what Dr. Hayward's 
saying, it sounds like F was having a some 
kind of affair with A before F  's apparent 
husband went through some kind of tragic 
event that ended up costing him his life, and 
A wastryingtogetF tocome back 
home. 


Both of them make references to their old age 
and previous status as [REDACTED], but it 
remains unknown how they know each other, 
let alone coexist, and they keep defining their 
condition as 'retirement'. Warrants further 
study when we get back. 


Resistance from sixteen-nineteen-ones have 
been minimal so far. Found a total of twenty 
two, which were all hunted down by the -Cs 
fairly quick. The -1s have been found in packs 
of five or six so far, usually just standing 
motionless before they find us. We can 
manage them. 


As for the -2s, they're territorial, as usual, but 
avoiding them is easy. They usually stick toa 
single room unless they're hunting, and even 
then, they give us a wide enough berth. | can 
definitely tell they want the -Cs, but they 
haven't attacked us yet. It's like they know we'll 
shoot. Ah well, whatever works, but I'm not 
letting them out of our sight till we're out of 
range. 


The floor's architecture has been fairly 
consistent so far; there have been a few 
different variations for rooms dimension-wise, 
but most seem like duplicates of each other. 
We haven't found any actual doors yet, so 
finding a safe place to set up camp has been 
difficult. We eventually gave up, picked a 
room, and set up a barricade over the 
doorway. 


At this pace, | expect that we should be done 
scouting in a day or two. 


<End Log> 


<Begin Log> 


Agent Crowely speaking for Day Two. We 
came across an issue today: we walked into 
an observatory filled with -1s. Don't know who, 
but one of us got surprised, and said 'Oh fuck’, 
which blew our cover. [I] don't blame him; it 
was a big room, and there were a lot of them, 
but when one finds you, the rest do too. 


We had to run, which was risky in and of itself. 
These hallways are narrow, and there are a lot 
of corners. We could run into another group of 
-1s, or the sight of us running could be taken 
as a sign of hostility from a -2. | must say, for 
something that's supposed to act like a cat, the 
-Cs are pretty obedient. They didn't run off or 
lose track of us, so fortunately, we still have 
them. 


We're in an unknown area right now, 
everywhere looks the same. But, we still have 
the maps, so we should be fine waiting till 
things quiet down. They'll <pauses; hushed 
tone> guys, quiet! They're here. I'll continue in 
the next log. 


<End Log> 
<Begin Log> 


Agent Crowely speaking for the continuation of 
Day Two. Recording takes place an hour and 
twelve minutes from the previous log. We have 
a problem. The -1s found us. They must've 
known where we were hiding, or noticed the 
barricade or something, because they found 
us almost instantly. They aren't actively trying 
to break in, but they're blocking our exits, so 
we can't leave. We can't let the -Cs loose 
either. AS soon as we make a gap in the 
barricade, the -1s ‘Il react and try to get in. 


We originally thought they left, because we 
haven't heard anything from past the 
barricade, but as soon as we looked, they 
attacked. | think every one of those things are 
just staring down the barricade, waiting for us 
to open up. 


I'm considering just shooting them, but that 
could just make things worse. <Pauses> There 
are two entry points, one facing north, one 
facing east. We've barricaded both, but the 
sound of a dying -1 will probably attract the 
rest to one entry point while we escape 
through the other. 


| think that'd be our plan B if we can't find any 
other way out of this. They might just get 
attacked by some -2, but we'll have to wait for 
some time before we actually try. Maybe they'll 
just go back to their room after a while. Till 
then, we're going to have to set up camp here. 
If they aren't gone by then, then we'll have to 
try it. 


<End Log> 
[+] Dr. Hayward Log: LEVEL 3 CLEARANCE REQUIRED 
<Begin Log> 


[Recording remains silent for twelve seconds] 
This is Dr. Hayward, recording for Day 
Fourteen. |... | apologize for the lack of 
updates and my unprofessionalism in these 
events, and in this log, but we were separated 
from the recorder, and it's been a- a rough 
couple of weeks. Plus, | guess you can say 
that I'm doing this for my own reasons. 


Basically, our escape didn't work. We went 
with Crowely's plan, killing one -1 to attract the 


rest to one barricade, close it, and escape 
through the other one while the rest try and get 
through the first. 


It got some of them to get away, but not all. 
Chris... Agent Beck got out first, but was 
pinned by an -1... Must have found us when 
the first one died. By the time most of us were 
halfway down the hall, | looked back, and saw 
Beck struggling to keep some of those... the 
-1s off of him. There wasn't much point in not 
shooting; if any others were coming, then 
they'd already be on their way. 


The smell of paint was strong when they were 
gone; someone might have passed out if we 
spent any more time in that spot than we did. 
The -Cs didn't mind it, they actually did most of 
the work. We just got to the end of the hall, 
and shot the couple that got too close to us. 
Eventually we got them all, but then came 
Beck. 


We saw him covered in black, and clutching 
his chest in pain. He looked like he needed 
help, and we wanted to give it to him, but we 
knew what they did to him. He started to get 
up and move towards us. He took off his bags, 
and tried to hand them to us, but... he started 
coughing up blood, which turned to vomiting 
paint. We left him. We had to. 


We couldn't save him or just... end it, and we 
knew what was going to happen, so... that 
was why. He was too dangerous to be around; 
we couldn't even get the supplies he was 
carrying because he probably got paint on the 
bags. That ended up screwing us, because 
Beck was our cartographer, and those bags he 
was carrying had the maps, a fair portion of 
our food, and this recorder in them. 


We called the mission off after that, from then 
on, our focus was just getting back to the entry 
point, which was about two and a half 
kilometers away. We started the trip back, but 
after a while, | heard Crowely yell. | looked, 
and | saw her ripping off her pant leg. We 
found out that the paint had got through her 
pants and reached her leg. 


I'm not a medical doctor, but it looked bad: the 
paint was already causing her leg to liquefy, 
and was starting to drip down her heel, so 
Sampson and | got her to a chair. Sampson 
said that... urine would help get that stuff off 
her. We didn't have enough water to drink, let 
alone enough to wash the paint off without 
getting some on the one washing, but if urine 
could save her life, so be it. 


It worked as far as the paint went, but... she 
lost a lot of flesh. Sampson had to be able to 
do something, anything to help. He told me 
that we couldn't do much else. We bandaged 
her up, managed to stop the bleeding, and 
prevented her from going into shock, but... 
Sampson was already talking about 
amputation if we got back to the elevators in 
time, and if we didn't... he had very little to 
sterilize the wounds with. At best, Crowely had 
a week. 


| felt sick. | couldn't even listen to him 
anymore. I'll admit, my relationship with 
Crowely was more than just professional. She 
was my partner for over years; we went 
through the same shit. When things changed, 
we made each other feel fuc-... we made each 
other feel human. 


| did everything | could to find the elevators, 
but | wasn't sure if we were getting closer, or 


farther, or if we passed it. | didn't sleep for a 
while, and Crowely's wounds were getting 
worse. The whole leg began to swell after a 
few days... Then it started turning black. 
Crowely's leg started smelling terrible; like a 
corpse. Sampson said it was gangrene... | did 
not need to know the things he told me. 


He stood there and told me, right in front of 
her, that her leg was dying, and that it would 
be better at this point if we jus- if we just ‘put 
her down’, like she was some kind of 
goddamned animal, as if she wasn't there in 
the room, like she had no Say in it. 


| didn't feel comfortable leaving her alone with 
him after that. Sampson kept trying to 
convince me that Crowely wasn't going to 
survive this, but how could she not? She's 
seen worse; how could she die from 
something so... So minor? 


[Recording remains silent for six minutes] 


You know, | remember before we couldn't 
leave Site-45. She used to scout out 
information, mainly by interviewing people 
undercover. | told her what information we 
needed, and we'd find a way to say it without 
raising suspicion. She taught me some tools of 
her trade, and | taught her some of mine, 
mainly how to spot the kind of things we hunt. 
Got so good at it, she could practically find 
something wrong on sight... Heh, | g-guess we 
were kind some kind of... paranormal twist on 
Bonnie and Clyde. 


[Recording is silent for one minute, twenty four 
seconds] 


He killed her. | know he did. | went out to 


check out a -1, that he told me about, and | 
came back to him leaning over Crowely, who 
‘just-so-happened' to die while | was out? 
Bruises around her neck?... | should have 
killed him right there. Instead? | told him to just 
get out before | did the same to him. 


| just... | just didn't want to see him again. He 
probably did it because he felt she was 
slowing him down, and was afraid that we 
wouldn't make it if she was there... He did as 
asked, and left us, going off with -C-11 and - 
C-12... Good. | hope he got mauled by a lamp. 


| stayed with Crowely for a while... Watched 
as she sank through the floors, and looked up 
to see a drawing... | suppose the floor must 
have been still active from the paint from 
Crowely's leg. Or something... You know, that 
was the most peaceful way I've ever seen 
someone go. Maybe it was just because we 
have the same expression for everything, but 
as she sank through, she only looked like she 
was just sleeping... 


When | looked up and saw the drawing take 
form... | didn't really know how to react; 
whether to cry or to feel nostalgic. Crowely 
looked like she was having the time of her life. 
It obviously took place in the Rec Room. She 
was raising a toast, while something that's 
supposed to represent me was getting ready 
to play for the small group of people going 
through the same shit... The coat and ears 
gave it away. 


| guess that was my closure... Not many 
people get that: the confirmation that their 
favorite thing to do was to sit there and hear 
your shitty songs while messing around ina 
bar... I'm still mad, | still wish she could come 


back, and if | was given the opportunity to get 
her back, believe me, | would in an instant, 
and | would beat the hell out of Sampson if | 
saw him, but... | don't care what happens to 
him. Let him starve, let him find his way back 
and rot; | don't care. 


| eventually decided to leave, and at least try 
to keep on going, but | had no idea whether | 
was going the right direction or not. | had 
vague memories of what direction we were 
going before this went wrong, but my goal was 
to find one of the really long hallways that we 
found earlier. Maybe if | at least found one of 
those, then | could trace our steps. 


| walked around for a few days, and | was 
getting hungry. | already ate the rations 
Sampson forgot to take with him, and | was 
about to run dry on water, so... what 
happened next... | am so, so sorry. You have 
to understand, | was desperate I-... 


Wh-while searching, | looked inside a room, 
and | found someone with an -1. The -1 wasn't 
attacking him, or me, but the man, he was just 
sitting there, staring at the floor. | went up to 
him to ask who he was, if he was alright... | 
must have surprised him: | guess that's kind of 
natural when you're stuck in a place like this, 
but he didn't react to me as | thought he would. 
He introduced himself as A __, in other words, 
the person whose name's been etched all over 
the place. 


We talked, but | couldn't help asking about me 
getting out... He chuckled a bit, and told me he 
wanted to make me an offer... | apologize for 
even talking to him after that, but... he offered 
me food so | could just hear him out. | wouldn't 
have done this under other circumstances. 


When | finished, he said that he'd give me a 
map leading back to the Site, and guaranteed 
my continued survival, but... he wanted me to 
kill him. 


| wasn't expecting to hear this. He said that he 
tried to do it himself, but that the only way it 
would work was if something else did it for 
him, while something was eating him away 
from the inside... | felt compelled to ask why 
he wanted this, and... he told me that F 

threw herself off a bridge in Paris, and 
drowned herself years ago. | asked him why 
it worked with her, and not him, and he told me 
that it just doesn't work the same way. They 
had different origins, so they had different 
rules. 


| agreed to it, and he gave me a knife laced 
with some kind of red fluid, and told me to stab 
him in the heart after he killed the -1, and 
drank the paint... | did as | was told, and with 
that, he died like you or me... | found the map 
in his hands, and left before he got too bad. | 
didn't want to see another person go through 
that again. 


At the time of recording this, I'm finding my 
way back. | must have gone in a circle before | 
foundA _, because | was close to the place | 
found our missing bags. Paint did get on the 
bags, but the recorder was fine.