I’ve been trying to get into contact with someone for at 
least 3 days now, but there’s no cell phone signal or sign 
of anything that’s living. Wherever this place is, it must 
be deep underground. There’s also no way to tell time 
here. The clock on my phone is malfunctioning, and my 
watch stopped a while ago — that reminds me, there was 
that pocket watch attached. But it doesn’t display time, or 
at least doesn’t have the standard clock face. Rather, 
there’s an electronic display, but it’s not showing 
anything right now. | haven't figured out what it does yet. 
For now, I'll try to follow the walkway. There’s no sun or 
moon here, and the vague lighting doesn’t seem to have 
a source. However, one direction of the concrete 
walkway extends into the horizon, whereas the other is 
cut off shortly by darkness. My instinct is telling me to go 
towards the light. | guess I'll finish off here. If you are 
stuck in this space like me, best of luck to you and may 
you succeed where | fail. If you found this elsewhere, 
notify the police and my family. Once again, you have my 
thanks. 


Signed, 
Henry 


This is Henry writing. | Knew how I’ve concluded my 
earlier note made that seem like my final words, but that 
was not my intention. 


After going around for a bit (can’t really tell how long), I’m 
quite amazed by what I’ve seen here. First of all it seems 
like our understanding of the world doesn’t really apply in 
this place. By my estimation, it has been at least 30 
hours since | woke up, but my cell phone, which usually 
lasts about 80 hours in standby, is still at about 70% - the 
same as last night! What's more amazing is that | haven’t 
taken in anything since pub, but | don’t feel the slightest 
hint of hunger or fatigue. 


And on a different note - | think I’ve found how the pocket 
watch works. It’s actually embarrassing to say, but 
there’s a little knob on its side (can't believe | didn’t 
notice it sooner) — if you press it a series of numbers 
appears on the screen for about 5 seconds before 
disappearing. The numbers also change as | walk. Still 
don’t know what the numbers mean, but they’re 
constantly going down for sure. Right now as I’m writing 
this down, the number shows: 9927-330. 


Also, | tried to put myself to sleep earlier. It didn’t work 
out well because I’m not tired at all, and also that the 
ground is made of concrete — probably not the best kind 
of bed. I’m starting to get kind of worried by the state of 
my own health, but so far not eating, drinking, and 
sleeping has yet to take a toll on me. | guess I'll keep on 
walking a bit. There’s still no sign of human activity 
anywhere — not a single living being is here, but I'll keep 
on looking. If | find anything worth noting, I'll jot it down 
here. From now on this notepad is my exploration log. 


[9927-129] 


So | suppose it’s time to write down another entry. Unlike 
the previous 8 times | actually have something of value 
to say. | have bad good [UNREADABLE] news today. 
For some time now I’ve recorded down the numbers on 
the watch each time | make an entry, and | think I’ve 
figured out what they mean. It... should’ve occurred to 
me sooner. | guess it did, but | just couldn’t accept it 
somehow. Judging by the intervals of how the numbers 
decrease, the last three digits seem to go down by one 
every 24 hours. | know it. | can be sure of it. I’ve become 
increasingly good at consciously counting time by 
walking. In other words | think it’s a countdown of some 
sort. 


Still, it... may better off be unaccounted for. Here’s my 
advice, to you, if you are reading this in my situation. 


Don’t try to count how many minutes, hours, or days 
you've walked. I’ve given up doing that. That just drives 
you mad. Because your body doesn’t get tired you don’t 
feel the time passing, but if you slow your mind down to 
count, you will. Believe it or not, the last time | recall 
checking the watch consciously is still at 236. 


[9926-364] 
And there you [UNREADABLE, possibly expletives] go! 


Oh how naive | have been. At some point | started 
counting again. | flipped out the pocket watch whenever | 
thought of it. | bid all of my hope on the moment when 1 
drops to 0. | even purposely ignored the 4 digits on the 
left... 


| was wrong. | thought that by not feeling hunger or 
fatigue | can make through this within blinks of my eye, 
but | am no god! | miss human interaction. | miss my 
family and friends! Why must | be put through this!? ... | 
don't think I’ve cried this hard since dad died. But it’s 
about time to finish up now. | still have to go. | have no 
reason not to. A moment ago | just saw the picture of 
Rosaline in my wallet while trying to see if I’ve got any 
Hershey’s left. And my poor Marianne... she should be 
about 4 by now, and 4 without her daddy. Even if it’s just 
for her, | will carry on. 


[9892-63] 


Today | made a great mistake. That would be my second 
greatest of all time. [UNREADABLE] ... The thing was 
some sort of a machine, small but flying. | haven't seen 


one myself, but think it is what you call a “drone.” It'd be 
one of those things Ji Da that one guy who | roomed with 
during my sophomore year in college (it’s been too long) 
— he'd be all thrilled about it ‘cause he’s in engineering. 
Shame he wasn’t here. I'd really appreciate the company 
of just about anyone. Maybe even that drone, but | guess 
| was just too scared after being alone for so long. 
Without thinking | went up and attacked it with my bag. 
The thing was [UNREADABLE] ...figured I’d just leave it 
there. 


| thought about taking a part of it as a souvenir, but then 
every time | look at it I'd be reminded of my mistake... 
about the missed opportunity of potentially getting into 
contact with someone outs | must not think of it. I’ve 
learned how to do that now. I’m able to. 


[9744-306] 


Can't believe it's been 7 years since my last entry. | have 
become inert. By human age, | should have died. Yet | 

am young still. My thoughts have become senile though, 
however, but through neither knowledge nor experience. 


Time passes quickly when one stops thinking, flows like 
water in a rapid stream - unhindered, unnoticed, and 
undisturbed. | am no wise, but should learn it was my 
proof. | will write it down how to do it here: [REDACTED] 


[9725-350] 


A streak of light lit up the sky. For a moment it shone 
brightly but the next it is gone. 


[9308-144] 


My conscience returns and | decided to sit down for the 
first time in 174 years. The earlier entries brings back 
some nostalgia. I'm reminded of some emotions that | 
thought | had long lost. Before | knew it tears were 
flowing down my cheek. ... | can't allow myself to think. If 
| do it would be the end of me. On a separate note, 
sometime earlier | found something quite unusual on the 
ground. It was a Playboy magazine from 1958. | can’t 
recognize anyone except for Lari Laine, whose movies 
were my teenage favorites. I’ve decided to bring it with 
me in case | get lonely again in the distances ahead. 


[9217-31] 
| found a human being today. 
But | don’t know whether to be happy or sad. 


Supposedly, | should be happy, because at this point any 
entity besides myself is a solace in this solitude. But | 
can’t converse to him. He’s just lying there, face-down on 
the ground, with a hole opened on the side of his head. 
The poor fella shot himself. | guess he was also trapped 
here, like me. But he seems well-equipped from head to 
toe, like an officer of some sort. 


| don’t know. | feel disgusted with what my immediate 
reaction was. It was neither grief nor angst, but 
[REDACTED] ...After that, | did a thorough search. His 
belongings came down to a handgun, a tool kit 
consisting of a flashlight and some small gadgets, a pack 
of gum, an intercom (seems to be broken), anda 
personnel ID of an organization. | packed all these with 
me along with his wallet — not because | needed the 
money. | then said an informal eulogy before leaving 
him. Seeing how he ended up made me clear my mind a 
bit. I've got to get out — however long it will take. 


that SCP-280 is frequently discounted as a shadow when seen in 
the dark, or dismissed as clothing, hair, or another object when 
accidentally touched in the dark. When tracking a subject, SCP-280 
will remain incorporeal until the moment of attack, causing some to 
walk very close to or through SCP-280. Subjects report a feeling of 
dread and unease when inside SCP-280. SCP-280 usually does not 
respond to this, but will sometimes expose its eyes and enter its 
retreating posture when passed through. No pattern has emerged 
for this behavior. 


Addendum: Notes Following Testing 


During a series of extensive testing of the effects of various 
illumination sources on SCP-280's retreat reflex, SCP-280 broke 
containment. SCP-280 was observed to repeatedly appear and 
dissipate throughout the illuminated Site, progressing through the 
sub-levels and eventually appearing in SCP-1591's containment 
chamber. Upon being exposed to SCP-1591, SCP-280 displayed its 
eyes but did not retreat. The entity paused and knelt for several 
minutes before demanifestation. SCP-280 reappeared in its cell 
several hours later without incident. 


« SCP-279 | SCP-280 | SCP-281 » 


[9216-1727] 


This may very well be my final entry. I’m no different than 
a dead man now. 


Yesterday... presumably, | couldn't really tell how long 
ago it was, but | finally lost the last bit of control. | began 
thinking again. | can't help it. | can no longer distract 
myself. It’s like the urge to jump down when you are at a 
high place; you're fine at first but the longer you stand on 
the edge the more you want to just step forward. | tried to 
pretend to myself that it's all fine. But | can't. | then 
looked at how long it had been — almost eight hundred 
years. For eight centuries now | have walked... and not 
even sure where this all leads. What did | even do to 
deserve this?! In a fit of rage | threw the pocket watch 
away. It was swallowed up by the darkness behind me 
before | could change my mind, which | immediately did. 
| tried going back to search for it, but it just disappeared. 
| didn't even hear the sound. It took a second before | 
realized what I've done. 


| don’t know how much longer | will be able to last. | 
already have nothing to return to. At this point | just want 
an answer. The handgun inside my bag is luring me, but 
I’m not about to just let it have its way. | can still do this. 
I'll take it slow. The time is in my hands. 


[222] 


Thought voices were heard, not sure where. 


[2227] 


Cold. 


[2277] 


Lost in thought. Regained consciousness. Walked on. 


[2227] 


Where am |? 


[-? ‘till Dawn] 


It feels like a bad dream that has gone on for way too 
long. I’ve thought about too many things and too little. 
I've come to terms with myself and with this path. This 
entire thing felt like a blur, but it’s too realistic to be 
written off like that. I’m almost near the end of my journal 
and this journey... so it seems. | can’t tell how long I’ve 
got ahead, but the sun — or whatever that’s glowing 
beyond the horizon — seems to be rising. Finally, it’s 
about time for morning twilight. 


[No Regrets] 
I’m sorry. 
END OF DOCUMENT 2503-1 


Afterword: The journal, upon recovery, was in good 
condition, giving valuable firsthand observations from 
within SCP-2503. It should be mentioned that Henry 

is the only individual to have presumably exited the inner 


space. The timespan between his disappearance and 
reappearance (~80 hours) is thus taken as the amount of 
time necessary for a person to exit SCP-2503 via 
SCP-2503-2. Extensive background research has been 
conducted on him, his family, and his co-workers to 
cross-reference the information presented in Document 
2503-1 and identify potential persons of interest. 
Noteworthy discrepancies are being studied at the 
moment. For instance, Henry’s coworkers at 

reported that prior to his disappearance Henry was 
experiencing heavy stress from work and began acting 
erratically. Many recall him acting and speaking 
differently at times. Those who had attended the pub 
night the Friday Henry disappeared noted that Henry, a 
frequent attendant of the event, had declined their 
invitation saying he needs "some time to himself". 
Rosaline and their family doctor commented on 
Henry’s recently developed tendency to talk to himself 
out loud, adding that he was suffering from frequent 


episodes of insomnia. Ms. also revealed that only 
one child is registered under the household, who 
she introduced as being Marty , their 13-year old son. 


« SCP-2502 | SCP-2503 | SCP-2504 » 


SCP-2504: Embry-Os, The World's Most Popular 
Fetus Based Cereal Product! 


Item #: SCP-2504 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: At least three boxes of 
SCP-2504 itself must be stored at Site-37 in a standard item storage 
locker. 


Any stores located in the continental United States and Canada 
which sell cereal products should be monitored for SCP-2504 
instances. SCP-2504 instances found to be received by any stores 
should be recovered by MTF-Theta-10 ("Welcome to Flavor Town"), 
and any further shipments to the store discontinued. Standard 
amnestication procedures should be followed. Following the 
recovery, normal procedures involving the disposal of human 
remains should be followed. 


SCP-2504-1 should be kept in standard humanoid containment cells 
at Sector A1 at Site-37 until expiration. The remains should be 
disposed in the same way as SCP-2504. 


Description: SCP-2504 instances are standard sized cereal boxes. 
On the front of each box, the words "Embry-Os, the World's Most 
Popular Fetus Based Cereal!" can be read, along with a picture of a 
bowl of milk filled with what appears to be human embryos, varying 
in age between 6 to 8 weeks old. There also reads a blurb at the top 
right corner which says "Collect all 6 plastic body parts of the fetus 
and receive a very special exclusive prize!" along with 6 differently 
colored plastic replicas of the limbs, head and torso of a 9 month old 
fetus, and a mailing address in order to deliver the collected parts. 
Investigation of the address revealed that such an address did not 
actually exist. The embryos present on the front lack any sort of 
placenta or other protective materials that would normally be found. 
The back of each box displays several different games, all fetus or 


embryo based in nature. The producer of the cereal is "Orgogs Ltd." 
No company with that name currently exists or has existed. The 
nutrition label of the box displays content consistent with a normal 
box of Kellogg's Corn Pops, but with a heightened amount of iron, 
calcium, and sugar. 


A series of four advertisements is visible on the left side of each 
SCP-2504 box. In descending order, these read: 


« Zygoti-Os, the World’s Most Popular Diploid Cell-based 
Cereal! 

¢ The Bone-Strengthening Calcers! 

Heartliers! The World’s First Organ-Based Cereal Product! 

Guaranteed to reduce risk of heart disease! 

Our newest product! Bacteria Phlakes, packed with grams of 

nutritional requirements! 


Each box contains two objects. The first and main component of 
SCP-2504 is a bag of 6-8 week old sugar glazed embryos. When 
the embryos are introduced to milk, the sugar coating will start to 
dissolve. Once the entire coating has dissolved, the embryos will 
exhibit small, erratic movement of its limbs, consistent with the 
normal movement that an embryo at this stage would exhibit in the 
womb. The second item present in each box is one of six plastic 
body parts, as advertised on the front of the box.