“Call me...” Panzer shuffled in her seat, sharply aware, again, that 
she wasn’t comfortable with any name she might give out. “Uh, Eli. 
Eli's fine.” Her tongue stung. She took another sip of water. 


“Eli, then!” Ruster played the notes of his practiced enthusiasm like 
a practiced pianist. “Il have a proposition for you.” 


“You'd better.” Doom Machine grunted as he adjusted his leg on the 
chair, wincing. “I’m not gonna be doing much of anything after... 
tonight, and...” Ruster glanced angrily at Doom Machine, and he 
trailed off. Panzer looked away in discomfort. Doom Machine was 
one of the meeker wrestlers she’d worked with, but nobody around 
his frame - tall and imposing, even into his relatively advanced age - 
dared simply shut him up, much less without uttering a word. Panzer 
scratched her shoulder. 


Transcript from Ethics Committee hearing for the review 
of Agent Uchikirou’s suspension, held on August 3, 20 . 
Agent Vargas, project lead for field research on 
SCP-3144, was cited to testify for the events of the night 
of May 5, 20 to Representatives Guerrero and Galindo. 
Guerrero: For the benefit of the record, where were you 
on the night of May the 5th? 

Vargas: Backstage. Well, backstage, on, | should, um, 
clarify. In the locker rooms in the Electric Ballroom in 
London, in talks with my manager. 

Galindo: What were you talking about? 

Vargas: Whether or not | should win the belt. | mean, he 
was. Conversations like that are strange. 

Vargas: Just to be clear, you know what 3144 does, 
yes? 

Galindo: Yes. 

Vargas: Well, it’s isolating. You can say essentially 
whatever you want, they'll just hear what they want to 
hear. Or what the anomaly wants, | guess. 

Galindo: Do you believe this isolation might've 
contributed to Agent Uchikirou’s behavior? 

Vargas: Excuse me? 


Guerrero: Do you be- 

Vargas: No, | heard you. | mean. May | have a second? 
To think about the question. 

Galindo: By all means. 

Vargas: Thank you. 

Vargas sits back on his chair and sighs. 

Vargas: Is this an offer for better mental care? 
Guerrero: No. 

Vargas: And by “us” | mean field researchers, all of 
them. 

Guerrero: You understand we don’t hav- 

Vargas: Yes, | do believe so. | also believe the stress of 
his recent injuries might've been a contributing factor. 
Galindo: Thank you for your time, Vargas. 


Vargas stared at Galindo’s cigarette carton, sitting alone at the table 
in the smoker's area of the Site break room. He hated smoking; he 
hated admitting he was stressed out enough to give into the old 
habit that he’d waned off over a year, through judicious use of 
nicotine patches and chewing gum. He could count on one hand the 
amount of times he’d caved to it over the past decade, and he did: it 
was three, all of them within Foundation walls. He plucked a 
cigarette out, let it dangle on his lips and pulled up Uchikirou on his 
phone. 


Uchikirou: Hello? Oh shit. Hang on. 

Uchikirou: Yeah, sorry. Hi, Vargas. 

Vargas: Hello, Uchikirou. 

Uchikirou: Hey, Vargas. 

Vargas: Hi. 

Uchikirou: Hey. What's going on? 

Vargas: Sorry, are you busy? 

Uchikirou: As busy as I'll ever be until | get a job again. 
No, thank you. Yeah, the blue cheese. 

Vargas: Where are you? 

Uchikirou: Applebee's. You? 

Vargas: Your ethics hearing. 

Uchikirou: God. 

Vargas: It sounds fine. | think. | don't think they're 
looking to fire anyone. 


Vargas: I'm trying to get them to give us more funding 
Uchikirou: What, how? 

Vargas: | told them we're going crazy. 

Uchikirou: What? I'm fine. | was savin- 

Vargas: | know. It’s not you, though. It's just not every 
day you get to talk to the higher-ups. And | worry. 
Uchikirou: Thank you. 

Vargas: You're welcome. 

Uchikirou: Not you, my burger. 

Vargas: What? 

Uchikirou: Waiter brought me my burger. I'm fine, 
Vargas. Just. Try to get me my job back, okay? 
Vargas: ...Okay. Stay safe. 

Uchikirou: Mffyeaf. 


Vargas hung up the phone. Galindo returned from his vending 
machine excursion just in time to catch Vargas lighting the cigarette. 


“Is that one of m-” 


“Yeah.” Vargas sighed and placed the cigarette on the ashtray 
without snuffing it out before getting up. “They're stale.” 


Panzer read over the contract in front of her for the third time. Doom 
Machine had signed yes much quicker than her, and taken his 
simple job as a booker for one of the WWE’s developmental 
territories almost immediately. Panzer wanted to jump on board with 
the same enthusiasm, but doubt nagged at her: the joy she 
should’ve felt at taking her rightful soot was replaced with an awful, 
nagging insecurity. What if she couldn’t do her job as well as Wolf, 
what if she’s walking into a death trap, what if she couldn’t perform 
in and out the ring, what if she didn’t look the part, what if she wasn’t 
tall enough. 


Whatever. She knocked back what was left of her glass of water in 
one go. There was only one way to dispel the insecurities, anyway. 
She bounced her leg and reached for the pen. 


Krosta: Krosta here. Can you call me back later? 


SCP-940: Araneae Marionettes 


Item #: SCP-940 
Object Class: Keter 


Special Containment Procedures: All known samples of SCP-940 
larva are currently in containment. Systematic purging of SCP-940 
adult samples from civilians is currently (as of / /  ) being 
spearheaded by a combination of Area-14 Research personnel and 
Mobile Task Force Omicron-7 ("Orkin"). Samples of Foundation 
strengthened” - - (see documentation regarding ‘Agent Blue’) 
are in the process of being added to commercially available 
insecticides, which is expected to prevent any more ‘wild’ strains of 
SCP-940 from arising. All SCP-940 infectees are to be treated as 
Class 4 Biohazards, and are to be contained and transported under 
heavy sedation to Area-14, or otherwise terminated. Deceased 
bodies infected with any SCP-940 strain, regardless of 
developmental stage, are to be incinerated. 


Description: SCP-940 is a parasitoid organism with some 
superficial similarities to troglobitic members of the class Arachnida. 
Adult specimens are highly agile and possess leg spans from four to 
seven meters; due to the difficulty in separating SCP-940 from their 
hosts (see below), average weight and body size are moot 
considerations. Each of their eight translucent legs is dotted 
regularly with six types of specialized sensory organs—IR-sensitive 
pit organs; ampullae of Lorenzini; compound and non-compound 
eyes sensitive to UV; and two additional organs of indeterminate 
function—and end in large tarsal claws, possessing scopulae and 
setules common amongst species of hunting spiders and allowing 
them to climb sheer vertical surfaces with ease. SCP-940 possess a 
radial nerve net similar to Asteroidea, or the common starfish, and 
no central nervous system; the possibility that SCP-940 rely on their 
host's brainpower for processing of external stimuli cannot be ruled 
out at this time. 


Actually, no, it’s fine. 

Galindo: Miss Krosta? 

Krosta: Yeah. Yes. | just said that. 

Galindo: Do you have a free schedule in the near- 
Krosta: No. 

Galindo: -future, to schedule an Ethics Committee 
hearing? 

Krosta: No. Listen. | just got hired. 

Galindo: You are hired, miss Krosta. 

Krosta: By the WWE, | mean. | know | have. God. Sorry. 
I’m jittery. 

Galindo: Good jittery, we hope. 

Krosta: Um. 

Galindo: We are happy you’re making progress with 
your research project, but we need to assess the scope 
of your research. 

Krosta: Uh huh. 

Galindo: And the impact it’s had on those in your team. 
Krosta: Well, it’s been great for me. 

Galindo: Surely you understand. 

Krosta: Right. Yeah. Yeah, I'll, um, clear my schedule. 


Panzer put the phone away and immediately forgot about clearing 
her schedule. Instead, she read over the contract one last time, then 
glided the pen over it. 


Panzer vacated the XXL Pro Wrestling Heavyweight Championship 
title. The camera watching her smiled in delight. 


Vince McMahon Dies At The End 
« Two Falls Out Of Three | Hub 


Footnotes 
1. [HYPERLINK REDACTED] 


Smothering Dreams 


Journal recovered from SCP-186 on 08/03/1971 during a 
routine bi-monthly patrol. Inside cover contains 
inscription in Russian! "Property of Dr. Jean Durand." 
Writings are variously in Russian, French, English, and 
an unknown language, resembling Indus script. Tests on 
inks and paper of the journal have proven inconclusive. 


July 22nd 

The death spasms of Europe have provided increasingly fertile 
ground for my work, particularly on the Eastern front. Whereas my 
ideas were once met with stunned silence in the halls of the 
Academy, a creeping sense of desperation has begun to overtake 
the corridors of power as this internecine conflict looks to continue 
indefinitely. The generals of Paris and London have torn apart half 
the continent searching for me, hoping to utilize methods and 
devices they once decried as "products of a diseased mind." Such is 
the way of war. 


This newest group is almost entirely unremarkable, distinguished 
only by the near-complete lack of organization. Morale has 
deteriorated rapidly, particularly due to perceived ill-treatment by 
commanding officers and a lack of adequate supplies. For example, 
currently only one in every three soldiers is armed with a rifle 
manufactured this century, with 38% of soldiers lacking any manner 
of projectile armament. There are rumblings among the men about 
the need for revolution and change. 


Officers continue to attempt to rally the troops for a counterattack 
with mixed degrees of failure. Those more fortunate tend to receive 
glares and rude gestures. Others are less lucky, and are at the 
receiving end of hurled rocks and clods of mud. Last night, a 
lieutenant named Katin was assassinated while he slept. 


To call this an army is, while perhaps a fitting commentary on war, 
inaccurate. It is a fleeing mob, full of frightened and angry young 


men. The absence of even a large group of individuals will go 
unnoticed. They are perfect. 


July 23rd 

Today, | finally revealed my presence to the men. Although slightly 
ahead of schedule, doing so now means that | have a larger group 
from which to gather accurate data. 


| went to a clearing containing approximately five hundred men at 
dawn and began to speak. There were some who cursed for 
disturbing with such talk at such an early hour. However, the vast 
majority of men seemed curious to listen to this stranger who spoke 
with such authority. | began by telling them of a peace so everlasting 
as to make war little more than a myth. Of the sciences that could 
create weapons of such ferocity that even the most bloodthirsty tsar 
or president would be given pause. Of the plenty and prosperity that 
would come when the sciences of war reached their culmination and 
were rendered obsolete by their own horror. 


"Think!" | said, "Of the wonders that might have come, had a genius 
the caliber of Alfred Nobel or Sir Maxim focused upon the science of 
life, rather than the trade of death!" Many of the men, no strangers 
to these inventions, began to nod when | said this. 


| told them that, with even a small taste of my weaponry, even the 
most stalwart enemy would turn tail and flee. There was an 
appreciable murmur that ran through the crowd as | said this. When 
| called upon them to cease their flight and gird themselves, not for 
the good of any president or nation, but for all mankind, the crowd 
erupted in cheers. 


The men surged towards me in a great wave, surrounding me and 
my cart. Each made for a weapon, ignorant of its function, and | 
feared that someone might accidentally wound themselves, leading 
to further chaos. It took me several minutes to restore order. 
However, in time, the men gathered at my feet as | explained the 
methods by which the most basic weapons could be used. The rest 
of the weapons, | am saving for later, as the unprepared reaction to 
a weapon will be far more elucidating. 


The men took it upon themselves to elect me commander, citing my 


knowledge of the new weaponry as well as experience with tactics. | 
accepted command graciously, although my mind turned to thoughts 
of mice selecting a king from among their doctors. The erstwhile 
leader of the group, a Cpt. Toropov, seemed thankful to be relieved 
of his duties. 


July 24th 

First contact with the kaiser’ forces! | must admit, | first felt 
something like apprehension when the scouts returned with the 
news. The men performed admirably at first, filled with certain and 
swift victory. A small contingent of the advancing German force was 
easily driven back by the men (I nearly wrote "my" men. Never "my" 
men or "our" men). 


For the occasion, | had elected to arm them only with ossification 
rifles as the rifles were to be much more familiar to the soldiers than 
some of the more exotic armaments. As the spikes of bone burst 
forth from the struck German soldiers, shredding their flesh, the men 
paused, apparently unsettled by the effects of the rifles. As the 
Germans began to scatter, | ordered an advance, but only half of the 
men made to move after the retreating forces. 


Afterwards, | spoke to some of the men individually. A Muscovite 
named Bunin spoke of his first time seeing a motorcar in the field, 
while a sergeant named Zinchenko spoke of a wife and a loyal dog 
back home in a village near Omsk. The specifics of their lives are 
irrelevant, but speaking with them helps bring my purpose into 
focus. 


July 25th 

Today, the German forces attacked in strength, effecting 95 
casualties. What is more, they appear to have been armed with 
some sort of anomalous weaponry of their own: a rifle that appears 
to cause cancerous growths, as well as a kind of gas that causes a 
permanent sensation of burning. | was unaware that the kaiser's 
government was working on such projects; | must now readjust my 
calculations for weapon efficacy. 


Fascinating. 


July 26th 


Today, a captured German soldier told us of the source of the new 
weapons: Nemes! 


| did not foresee such an eventuality, assuming only that his engines 
of war had been imported to the Western front, or preferably, that he 
had died in obscurity. It can't be that his appearance is a mere 
coincidence. Whether the work of an intrepid spy or of the larger 
cosmos in its dizzying array of looping fates, | dare not say. 


July 27th 
Notes to self 
Expand in r. notes! 


Austrian's weapons appear to be built on principles of waves 
One of said weapons appears to, among other effects, greatly 
increase the elasticity of human skin while decoupling it from 
membranes. Investigate if principle can be applied, but non- 
lethal and allowing intact nerve endings. 

Sgt. Ryzhov + others have had opposite anticipated reactions. 
Love the destruction of the weapons, love the pain they 
cause. Must redouble efforts. 

Barbed wire efficacy lower than expected. Rather than a 
preset sensory pattern, perhaps a malleable compound that 
incorporates phobias? Investigate. 


July 27th-30th 


Pages torn out 


July 31st 


Flesh affected by N.'s guns turns necrotic within five days. 
The men struggle to cope with the stench. 

Desertion rate approaching 15%. 

The ossified bodies of the German soldiers now fill no man's 
land. Tales spreading around lines regarding their supposed 
movement. A primitive reaction, but one worth investigating? 
Ryzhov + others remain stubborn. Casualty rate from 
psychosis approaching 5%. Good w/ bad. 


August 1-7th 


Notes in unknown script. 


August 8th 
Tonight | finally got a look at my so-called rival!