Pol-3172: Across every culture, in every city 
and tribe and civilisation, you've come across 
the idea of the Scarlet King. Always the same: 
an emperor in red, with a burning crown and 
an ethos rooted in some archaic fear of female 
sexuality. He is always the same: a monster 
that is all-consuming and terrible, but so 
understandable. The big bad thing in the dark, 
full of rape and fire and old blood-ritual. Does it 
never strike you as odd that this is the thing 
behind the eyes? You've faced monsters far 
grander and more subtle, as you told me 
yourself. But always, always there's that 
lingering fear and knowledge of this hidden but 
oh-so-simple thing standing behind it all. 


Dr. Montauk: You know it strikes me as odd. | 
told you as much myself. But | also stopped 
trying to make sense of our world a long time 
ago. The anomalous does not play by the rules 
of man. I'm too old to start redefining the 
universe. 


Pol-3172: But the thing you don't remember, 
or don't know, is that this wasn't the only past. 
The Scarlet King used to be something very 
different. He wasn't a monarch, and he wasn't 
always red. He was the whisper on the wind 
that kept the peasants working, staring up in 
fear of his righteous famine. He was that 
inborn knowledge of a world of gods and 
demons which belied human agency and 
existed beyond us. He was the cold hunger of 
a famine that had no rhyme and reason but the 
cold apathy of a supernatural beyond us. And, 
given enough belief, he could be the Devourer, 
too. He is a creature of truth. 


Dr. Montauk: You mean- he transformed? 
From one type of deity into another? 


Pol-3172: The Scarlet King is not a deity, 
doctor. The Scarlet King is an idea. 


Dr. Montauk: Wh- what? But he's real- 
physical! We've seen- 


Pol-3172: | can't tell you any more. Not yet. 
Did you find anything out about the law of 
concrete? 


Dr. Montauk: ...No. Not much. | found out that 
there seems to be a disturbing correlation 
between the activities of the King's followers 
and certain decisions made by the Council. 


Pol-3172: | see. 


Dr. Montauk: But there wasn't much else at 
all. The trail led me to some lost documents, 
but eventually all | found was a dead end. A 
document about the Foundation's origins, and 
some insane old Child ranting on about 
modernity. 


Pol-3172: Cartwright, | presume? That makes 
sense. 


Dr. Montauk: You are a maddeningly 
infuriating person, you know. Why can't you 
just tell me this stuff properly? 


Pol-3172: | am your prisoner. You did destroy 
my life's work. Why should | help you? 


Dr. Montauk: Because you're bored. Because 
you think none of this matters. And because 
you love tormenting me. 


Pol-3172: | don't, you know. 


Dr. Montauk: The Scarlet King is an idea? 
What the hell is that meant to mean? 


Pol-3172: You're close now, doctor. Close to 
the truth. | can see it in you. You will 
understand, and then you'll understand me. 
Why | did what | did. Why | am- was- a 
member of the Children. | know you're curious. 


Dr. Montauk: You do seem oddly well- 
adjusted to be a Satan worshipper. 


Pol-3172: Be careful, doctor. The law of the 
howling may break you. 


Dr. Montauk: As cryptic as ever, Spivak. 
Alright. Until next time. 


Pol-3172: Goodbye, doctor. 


<End Log> 


Document 8: The following is a translated excerpt from 
the 1953 Bengali work Lala Raja. The work had been 
lost for some time, and rediscovered by Dr. Montauk in 
the course of his investigation. 


And so as British rule continued, something 
began to come with them, piece by piece. A 
shadow, at first; a red thing. But it was not 
whole. It was not even in pieces. It was 
something that crept up slowly, piece by piece. 
It met the shadows of our country, the mice 
bleeding in the rice fields, and it began to take 
form. 


It didn't have a mind. Not at first. It wasn't 
enough of a real thing yet to have one. It was a 
set of images. It was a blood-red slab of skin, 
taken from the heart of some Christian demon, 
which was set upon an ancient magician of 
Hindu rites. But then it was categorised, 
written down, described with precise scientific 
terminology. It didn't like that. Things of magic, 
technology, empire that were never meant to 
mix all came together, and began to bend the 
nature of the world. 


As Europe came to us more and more, as we 
learnt to be "civilised", our religion began to 
change too. Anantanesha was not an ancient 
and capricious god in the form of an immense 
snake- it was a moray eel of scientifically 
unusual size, noted for producing amnesiacs3 
and causing a cognitohazardous effect. We 
learnt that we were Hindu, that we always had 
been Hindu, and that all our various and mixed 
beliefs were all variations on a singular ideal, 
because the British weren't comfortable 
enough with another way of living which could 


not be classified, explained, killed like a 
butterfly pinned to a board. 


But beneath this lay a fury. A cry for 
authenticity, for a reality, even as we 
expressed ourselves more and more in their 
language and their categories, even in our 
struggle against them. It lay in our literature, in 
Tagore and the others; it lay in our adda’, in 
our menial jobs as clerks. The endless, 
struggling tension between old and new, 
between modernity and premodernity. And in 
those fault-lines, in that cry of rage and fury, in 
our hatred of the old and the hatred of the 
new, there rose a hybrid obeying nothing but 
the law of the howling. There rose the Lala 
Raja. 


Because what is he but the cry for a forgotten 
age? He is the British peasant staring up at the 
red sky, the Bengali widow's weeping and 
shaven head, the Aztec priest ripping out 
another's heart. He is all of those things 
transformed, as modernity does to everything, 
into modernity's own destruction. He is the 
resistance, the fury, the hatred of all that was 
for all that presently is. 


What we were was full of good and evil and all 
else mixed together. The happiness, the 
beauty of the world, the struggles and 
heartache and reality of it all. But now we have 
lost almost all of it to the machine- except our 
rage. That's all that's left. And thus comes the 
King. The howl of the destroyed and forgotten 
and oppressed. His only purpose is to destroy, 
rape, maim, enslave and smile, smile that 
smile of a king whose enemies weep before 
him. 


He cannot exist where there is no modernity, 


because his entire purpose is given to him by 
modernity. He is a god of blood, a god of spine 
and bone and sinew, to remind the denizens of 
this world that it is not good. It is cruel and 
hateful and that is good, that is right. Modernity 
is asin and he Is the correction, so that we can 
once again live as we must: cold, and hungry, 
and starving, and very, very afraid. 


Document 9: The following note was found in Dr. 
Montauk's personal quarters. It is believed to have been 
written shortly after Dr. Montauk's discovery of Lala Raja. 


SCP-001 is a conceptual entity created at the 
boundaries of the modern and the premodern. 


The Scarlet King is a thing of blood and bone 
and sinew. His rule is just, the justice of the 
dark. 


SCP-001 is a creature emperor physical being 
made manifest in a conceptual 


He comes with fear and a sword dripping with 
wrath and fire 


SCP-001 originated in ancient Turkmenistan. It 
is believed that is was originally a Scythian 
deity who 


They rode with thunder in their hooves and the 
bow on their backs, laughing as they slaught 


SCP-001 is a scientific phenomenon. It will be 
classified. It will be contained described. It will 
be understood as an anomalous entity, as with 
every other an 


but he exist in the cracks, the faultlines. He 
feeds on description. he feeds on science, on 


the objective principles and qualities. Seven 
chains! Seven brides! Seven seals for the 
Scarle 


| am Robert Montauk, Level 4 Researcher, 
Project Lead on SCP-001. | am a researcher. | 
impose my solid, mechanical will. | am in 
control. | possess agency. | possess agency. 


| am a quivering thing, looking up at a dark and 
clouded sky, fearing the Almighty God. i am 
free. iam chained i am a doctor i am a child 


Document 10: On 22/05/2018, a large crack appeared 
in the wall of Pol-3172's containment chambers. The 
crack appeared to open on another dimension. A large 
quantity of red smoke could be seen pouring out of it, 
while an unknown number of human voices could be 
heard screaming from it. 


Foundation staff found themselves unable to enter 
Pol-3172's containment chamber. Pol-3172 informed 
them that he would only permit Dr. Montauk entry into his 
chamber, and would communicate with nobody else. 
After some debate, Dr. Montauk was permitted entry into 
the containment chamber to interview Pol-3172. A log 
can be found below. 


Date: 22/05/2018. 
Interviewer: Dr. Robert Montauk. 
Interviewee: Pol-3172 


Location: Site 713, Humanoid Containment 
Chamber 77. 


<Begin Log> 


Dr. Montauk enters the chamber and 
approaches Pol-3172. Pol-3172 is standing in 


front of a jagged crack in the far wall. Red light 
and smoke can be seen emerging from this 
crack. 


Dr. Montauk: Hello there, Dipesh. 
Pol-3172: Hello, doctor. 


Dr. Montauk: Always formal, even to the last, 
aren't you? Can | ask you what... this is? 


Pol-3172: A plea for attention, mostly. | 
wanted to see you again, and my requests 
were all denied. It's been weeks, doctor. 


Dr. Montauk: I... | had nothing to ask you. 


Pol-3172: | thought so. You have deducted the 
truth, haven't you? 


Dr. Montauk: Maybe. Yes. 
The crack shrinks slightly. 
Dr. Montauk: It- did that just- 


Pol-3172: It grows and shrinks depending on 
the situation. Different actions have different 
meanings, and thus different effects. It all 
depends on context. The other Children never 
got that, but- well, they never got anything, 
really. They thought we were all devil 
worshippers, heading for violation. Only | 
understood the point. 


Dr. Montauk: It took me a while to 
understand. 


Pol-3172: | didn't think you would. 


Dr. Montauk: Justi tell me- did the Procedure 
even matter? What we do, is it even relevant? 


Pol-3172: To prevent the birth, it had to be 
something awful, something evil expressed in 
pain and rage and fury. That is why it worked. 
It was never a sincere attempt to formulate a 
scientific procedure on your part: it was just 
pure, unadulterated hatred wrapped ina 
veneer of objectivity. You thought the King had 
taken your brother, so you decided to hurt the 
King. You didn't, of course, and what you do 
each day to that poor girl is little more than 
mere cruelty. But effective cruelty. The 
specifics are unimportant but the /ntent, that 
matters for everything. 


Dr. Montauk: I... | should stop it. | didn't- 


Pol-3172: And then what? The Foundation 
won't get it. They will never understand the law 
of the howling. 


Dr. Montauk: If | explain- 


Pol-3172: They can't imagine it. It's beyond 
their conception of reality. But you might. So, 
tell me, Doctor. Do you know why the Scarlet 
King exists? 


Dr. Montauk: Because modernity and 
premod- 


Pol-3172: No. Because the SCP Foundation 
exists. Modernity helped shape him, defined 
the contours of his rage, but it was when 
modernity started interfering in his kingdom 
that he was crystallised. Modernity in the form 
of you. Your lot came first. You came into 
being to lock away, classify, pin down 
everything that didn't fit into your philosophy of 
enlightenment rationality. Everything had to be 
understood, contextualised, transformed from 
faerie and godhood into simple, 


Experiment Log 531 


This set of experiments on SCP-531 was conducted by Dr. 
[REDACTED], who replaced the original principal investigator 
[REDACTED]. The initial series of experiments prior to this were 
inadequately documented and are not included in the official 
summary. 


Experiment-531-B1: 
A Class-D subject with a high measured psychological resistance 
threshold was exposed to SCP-531-7. 


Partial transcript: 


[0:00] 

Subject D-481-1: "What is... It's beautiful, where is it 
from? Its... its eyes..." 

Dr. [REDACTED]: "What about its eyes?" 

Subject D-481-1: "They're... demanding eyes. 
Demanding. |... | can't look away. Hey, seriously, | can't.” 
[Subject tries to grasp [REDACTED]'s arm, but a security 
guard delivers a mild jolt from a stun baton to remind 
subject against such actions. Subject yelps but doesn't 
break eye contact with the statue.] 

Dr. [REDACTED]: "What is it demanding?" 

Subject D-481-1: "I don't... Oh, god. No, please, no." 

Dr. [REDACTED]: [repeats question] 

Subject D-481-1: "It's demanding me. It wants... it needs 
me. No! No, | won't!" 


ee 


[0:27] 

[At this point the subject is crouched down directly in 
front of SCP-531, trembling and sweating profusely. ] 
Subject D-481-1: "Please, God, no..." 

Dr. [REDACTED]: "Come now, we've heard your praying 


comprehensible chunks of logic and matter. 
It's abhorrent. And it could never go on 
forever. Something had to give. Something 
had to rise up in opposition. 


Dr. Montauk: ...We were first? Truthfully? | 
know that Beauvoir had- was this whole thing 
really our fault? 


Pol-3172: That depends. Is it your fault if you 
don't know you're doing it? 


Dr. Montauk: | don't know. 
Pol-3172: Neither do |. 


Dr. Montauk: The ceremonies. They all held 
that contrast. 


Pol-3172: The King cannot exist without that 
tension. We needed those symbols of 
modernity, those stark grey images, to make 
the rift in the first place. It was the perfect plan. 


Dr. Montauk: But you failed. 
Pol-3172: Yes. 
There is a pause for several seconds. 


Dr. Montauk: The Foundation was formed in 
the 1820s. It was formed to protect the world 
from the dark, by a collection of brave men 
and women. To s-secure. Contain. Protect. 
That is our purpose. There is a virtue in 
normalcy which | don't think you can see. The 
world can be understood. Truth, reason, 
rationality. The Enlightenment. These our 
bedrock, these are what have allowed us to 
see what is objective. 


Pol-3172: Do you really believe that? 


Dr. Montauk: | have to. 


Pol-3172: You're a scientist. You should know 
that there's no such thing as an objectively 
true finding in any science. There's always 
room for doubt, always space for error. 


Dr. Montauk: But that's just humanity. We 
may have flawed minds, incapable of full 
interpretation, but what we observe is solid 
and real. Beneath it all, the laws, the bedrock- 


Pol-3172: The bedrock is defined by the 
number seven. Seven chains, seven brides, 
seven seals, seven, seven, seven... my whole 
life has been defined by that number. It 
tortures me. Endless heptagonal shapes 
dancing behind my eyes. We're not allowed to 
live. We're not allowed to be people. That is 
the luxury of modernity, despite its coldness 
and its creaking wounds- to be able to be a full 
person. Seven, seven, seven. Seven girls 
taken away by raiders in the cold, as the wind 
demon howled and howled. So the Scarlet 
King had to have seven brides. 


Dr. Montauk: Modernity is not always cold. It's 
less brutal than slavery. 


Pol-3172: But what is it for? Is that the only 
purpose, a mere absence of brutality? What's 
the point of having peace and kindness for its 
own sake, so you can smile for a few decades 
before falling dead into an empty grave? Self- 
affirmation for a finite self. | don't understand it. 
| never did. | grew up trying. | wanted to be like 
them, like you, but the system just stared down 
at me with contempt. Maybe it's not coldness, 
doctor. Coldness seems too objective. It can't 
be that, because there is no objectivity. 
There's just the screaming and the madness 


and the need for purpose. 


Dr. Montauk: Did you really think that nothing 
is true?