The other day, | was sitting on a bench reading 
a book of poetry, and a man approached me. 
He asked me for a Louis d'or, like some tramp 
that infests the streets. But he said that he 
needed a coin to pay the ferryman, otherwise 
he wouldn't be able to cross the stream. He 
held out his hat, and | put in, but the man said 
nothing in return. How rude! But the headless 
can't speak after all. And so he went on his 
merry way, the sun reflecting his patches of 
bones, and disappeared after passing the 
trunk of an oak tree. 


The day after, | entered the local salon, but a 
crisp cloud of smoke and water enveloped the 


air. | had accidentally stumbled upon a 
smoking room, but not any normal smoking 
room. The Duke of Drrkwyd sat on his sequin 
throne! | fearfully trembled and bowed down in 
the presence of the gracious earl, and kissed 
his left foot, and he graciously patted my head 
with one of his bulbous hands. The other held 
a long opium pipe, the third: a scimitar, but 
alas! The last two were chained. The five 
heads scowled in scorn as they fought their 
shackles, and he roared like that of a 
wonderful beast. A monster worth sacrifice, a 
lion worth giving one's flesh. Let him feast, — 
like wonderful maggots they grow on my skin! 


[Date Missing] 


The streets run pink with blood and agony. | 
can hear their screams even after their heads 
topple in the basket. So much blood, so much 
blood! Blood, and Blood, and Blood. They 
erupt from the corpses like geysers and 
daggers in the dead of the night. It's not 
enough to satiate a growing hunger. My 
brother, he doesn't understand. He slogs 
through the Nightmare, hoping to enter the 
Paradise. Empty promises from an empty lord. 
But he is our lord, nonetheless. 


9 Thermidor Il, 


Forgive me, dear brother. In these past few 
days, the entire world has been afflicted with /a 
démence. | am as guilty as you are, but you 
should have not deserved such a demeaning 
fate. | gave you those inbred thoughts; the 
dark whispers that consume me have taken 
ahold of you. You've lost something in your 
eyes, brother; it has been replaced with a 
bright and poisonous light —like that of a 


distant star. Now, not even your death will win 
you your freedom. Punish me, oh King! Let me 
suffer for those who have suffered! 


Addendum 2456-1 [LEVEL 5 CLEARANCE ONLY] 


On 21/12/2016, during a scheduled comb of Foundation 
servers, a firewall sounded an alarm in response to an 
unidentifiable audio file sent to Researcher Samuel T 

No Foundation credentials could be found, but the file 
was traced to a cubicle that had been vacant for six 
years.8 Unusually, the hardware had been short-circuited 
and badly corroded, with traces of pyruvic acid, sea brine 
and burnt heart tissue found in the CPU. 


Although the terminal was not damaged beyond repair, 
the file was one of few items deemed salvageable, as 
the rest became corrupted from the damages. Attempts 
to restore the full audio file have failed. A transcript of the 
recovered portion can be found below. 


orked with the Foundation for 20 years now; 
I’ve seen men bleed out because of a song 
dedicated to a goddamn mountain. I’ve heard 
of a skip that forces its victims to suture their 
mouths shut. And I’ve tested countless D-class 
on books that break their bodies, their minds, 
and whisk their existence away into a land of 
fiction and fantasy. But now it’s me that’s 
dying, if you could call it that. In truth, my soul 
is slowly burning away, and I’m fucking 
terrified. 


| don’t know how much of what I’m about to 
say is true. Simon probably had the best 
understanding of this thing out of all of us. 
Simon, now that’s a name | haven’t heard of in 
a long time, but it doesn’t really matter. He’s 
gone now, and no one seems to care. 


It was just me, Simon, Charlie, and [AUDIO 


CORRUPTED]. We were assigned to 
SCP-2456 ever since it was first identified. Our 
mission was simple: to catalog all past 
occurrences of SCP-2456-1. This wasn't the 
first time | dealt with memetics, nor was it the 
first time | dealt with a Keter class, but this task 
seemed simpler than my previous ones. 
Testing with D-Class numbs you down after 
the first couple of weeks, but you never really 
get used it. | was actually almost relieved once 
| got transferred. 


[AUDIO CORRUPTED] was the first one to go. 
One minute, | was having my lunch with him. 
The next he’s on the floor, screaming about 
visions of the sea, and the archons of a trloplic 
world. They dragged him to the infirmary, but 
not before he managed to stab a guard’s leg 
with a dinner fork. | asked to see him after an 
hour had passed. Imagine just how surprised | 
felt when they told me that no patients had 
been admitted in the past four hours. 


This skip is relatively new. We just don't fully 
understand all of it, and it seems we only have 
a fraction of the information. And that's where 
the danger lies. To simply put it, there’s a third 
state of SCP-2456 that’s gone unrecorded —A 
“gamma state”, if you will. Picture a DNA 
molecule, how does it create proteins? | know, 
ask any lab boy that question around here, 
and they'll scoff and treat you as if you’re 
some kind of half-wit. Well, not to bore anyone 
with the specifics, but basic protein synthesis 
requires two major steps. The first one, 
transcription, has RNA polymerase building 
RNA molecules that detail instructions. DNA 
translation, in its most basic definition, is the 
RNA molecule being read. And that creates 
the product -tRNA first brings methionine, and 


the chain ends with either “amber” or “ochre” 
or “opal”. Congratulations, you’ve just made 
the primary structure of a protein. 


SCP-2456-2 is an incredibly potent anti-meme, 
capable of causing dramatic and localized 
dimensional shifts. It’s very delicate —very 
fragile—, and requires careful preparation. A 
beta instance is the indirect vector for 
SCP-2456-2 infection. Whenever a beta 
instance writes information about SCP-2456-1, 
a gamma instance is created. If a subject 
reads the gamma instances, there is a 
possibility that SCP-2456-2 will enter the 
subject. The subject will slowly vanish from 
existence, and all records and knowledge of 
the subject will disappear alongside it. 
However, this process is incredibly flawed. 
Sometimes a corpse is all that remains, 
sometimes just a name. And, from personal 
accounts, SCP-2456-2 is capable of causing 
vivid hallucinations and depositing false 
memories in the subject. Simon kept telling me 
stories about his life while he succumbed to 
this thing, and they always seemed to change. 


We didn’t know this at first. Charlie told me 
that it was probably a “phantom alphabet” 
causing us to become ghosts. | told Charlie to 
shut up. | honestly don’t know what stupid fuck 
hired that man. Simon though, he was the 
brighter one. He had a theory that SCP-2456 
has more to it than meets the eye. He went 
missing three days ago. We were in the same 
room. | just turn around for one second, and 
he’s gone. Only his favorite coffee cup —the 
one that’s always by his side, where Snoopy’s 
wearing that goofy-looking christmas hat? — 
lay half-empty on the floor. 


Why didn’t the whole fucking world collapse 
back in ’05? The entire U.S. population had 
practically read that damn monstrosity. 
Personally, I’m not too sure. | think that 
something went wrong. | think the Fifth Church 
doesn't fully understand SCP-2456, and so 
SCP-1425 failed to become a stable version of 
SCP-2456-2. Gamma instances can’t create 
beta instances. SCP-2456 just becomes too 
weak at that level of infection. Instead of beta 
instances, SCP-1425 created alpha instances. 
But even then, | think that it did work at some 
level. What was that woman’s name? The talk 
show host -I only just realized that she never 
reappeared. 


The Foundation doesn’t have a full 
understanding of this particular skip. The 
problem is, it’s not a parasite. SCP-2456 is the 
Dream. 


A slumbering King rests dead in the water. 
Fractured into five pieces, he shuffles through 
an eternal nightmare; an usurper has claimed 
his throne. But he is not fully unconscious. The 
Fifth King has set his sights onto this world, 
and will burn the earth with an undying flame, 
just to punish the traitors that locked him away. 
His anger is one that is unbridled. And so, he 
shares the Dream. They were chosen for a 
specific reason. They were his champions, 
destined to share the world with his glory. 
Destined to bathe the world in the blood of his 
interlopers and remind everyone of their true 
master. Even the strongest hunger, and 
sometimes they just gotta take a little bite. 
Sacrifice by blood is what it desires. Sacrifice 
by souls is what it requires. 


| feel it happening to me too. Even as | write. 


They whisper to me [unintelligible]. | dream 
terrible, terrible things. Sometimes of the 
number five, sometimes of the number six. 
Rarely of the number four. | feel them too, 
writhing in my skin, and—Oh, possible 
cognitohazard as well? That explains many 
things. Of a little lambent liar lurking in a lonely 
sea. Of special stars signaling songs ever so 
carefully. And men that mine may find 
[unintelligible], if they dig a little too hard. Have 
you ever wondered what the phrase "A A"9 
means? No, stop it. I’m digging a little too hard 
aren't |? But just wonder —how far down does 
the rabbit hole go? As deep as a tower door, 
bringing me to a land of hedonism and fun? Or 
as deep as a great lake, whose sorry 
inhabitants float in the water and stare into the 
fiery abyss of the great sun? 


My time is almost up. And just remember, 
remember, remember. Why do you think we 
never knew? The Foundation is old, but the 
world is older. Most likely, we've had some 
help. A group as old as the Fifth King, trying to 
put an end to his nightmare. | wouldn’t even be 
surprised if the Serpent’s Hand was partially 
involved in keeping his forces at bay. After all, 
we did find those gamma instances at their 
HQ. But now they are in the hands of the 
Foundation, and they will never be destroyed. 


| can hear the Fields of Asphodel calling my 
name. The air is suddenly getting thicker —| 
can already smell that sweet sea breeze. 
Follow the smoke that sits on the water. Listen 
to the fog horns calling for their dead 
companions, the sea foam crashing against 
the tide. | am not ready, for | am not worthy. 


This was Senior Researcher John Richards, 


SCP-272: An Old Iron Nail 


Item #: SCP-272 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-272 is to be contained ina 
small wooden box in a vault at Sector-25. Apart from this, no further 

containment is necessary, as the object is completely inert when not 
in use. Care is to be taken not to drop the item during transit. 


Description: SCP-272 is an iron nail, approximately 11.5 cm long, 
resembling ancient designs. Covering every flat surface are 
engravings of unknown cultural origin. The engravings have been 
described as “captivating, but scary” in a majority of staff 
interviewed. 


The nature of the object becomes apparent when it is dropped onto 
the shadow of an individual. The nail will bury itself exactly 2/3 of its 
length into the material the shadow is cast on. Following this, two 
effects should be noted: the person whom the shadow belongs to 
will not be able to remove the nail, by any means, and they are 
limited to movements that keep their shadow cast on the nail. The 
nail, however, may be removed by conventional means by anyone 
else, although those requested to do so reported a mild aversion, 
citing claims that “it feels fair”. 


The object was discovered during a routine sweep embedded into 
an exposed rock face near an abandoned air force base in __, 
Afghanistan, with a human skeleton scattered around it. It was 
thought to be mundane until a researcher dropped it at their feet, 
and was subsequently pinned to the spot for 20 minutes before 
being assisted. 


Experiment log: 
Format: 


signing off. And one last thing before | step 
into the water. 


Once history is forgotten, it is of course 
doomed to repeat itself. And the sixth cycle will 
forever more echo. 


Note: Foundation records of the persons listed in the 
transcript, in addition to one “John 

Richards” are nonexistent. However, these men may be 
related to sudden unexplained disappearances of 
Foundation officials. A Foundation audit is currently 
underway. — 05-3 


Footnotes 

1. Memetic Killzone Holding Chamber 

2. As defined by the Rownt Scale, a one-to-ten scale created by 
Senior Researcher Jacob Rownt to measure the severity of 
anomalous contagion outbreaks, in which a rating of 6 would 
warrant epidemic status. 

3. Barring the province of Gansu 

4. The Middle Egyptian word for "gold" 

5. The leader of the Tollan, and the Fifth Sun to sit in the sky 

6. Not found in the original copy of the hymn text 

7. Expunged for possible connection to SCP- 

8. Server logs show that the terminal had activity logged the day 
prior. 

9. Unknown 


« SCP-2455 | SCP-2456 | SCP-2457 » 


SCP-2457: 8 Bict \ ("haha o mitai") 


Closeup of SCP-2457 sample. 


Item #: SCP-2457 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-2457 is to be stored ina 
cryogenic storage unit at Sector 5 of Site-44. Sample requests for 
testing purposes require authorisation from Project Head/2457. 


Hosts carrying SCP-2457-A are to be taken to Class E wards with 
survelliance cameras installed. Medical staff are to monitor the 
health status of said hosts, with daily checkups during the hosts' 
second and third trimesters. When a given host undergoes 
combustion, other personnel (if any) in the respective ward are to 
evacuate. After combustion, a response team is to collect the 
remnants of SCP-2457. 


Carcasses of SCP-2457-A iterations are to be stored in a cryogenic 
storage unit at Site-44 Class-E Morgue. Access to said carcasses 
requires authorisation from a Level 2 personnel. 


Description: SCP-2457 is a sample of human sperm cells coated in 
a cryoprotectant semen extender, with a total volume of 
approximately 5 mL. Analysis of SCP-2457 reports no indication of 
illness or other abnormalities. The identity of the sperm donor is 
listed as Mr. (hereon listed as Pol-2457-01), a resident of 
Hamamatsu, Shizuoka Prefecture, Japan. When utilised for artificial 
insemination, there is a 100% success rate of impregnation given 
that the host is fertile. 


SCP-2457-A is a human foetus resulting from the use of SCP-2457 
for artificial insemination. All iterations of SCP-2457-A are 
consistently male and genetically identical, regardless of the hosts of 
respective iterations. Genetic comparison between SCP-2457-A and 
Pol-2457-01 indicates approximately 50% DNA overlap between the 


two persons. Furthermore, all iterations of SCP-2457-A have been 
diagnosed with anencephaly. 


During the third trimester of the host's pregnancy, the host will 
undergo spontaneous human combustion. Fire generated is shown 
to be unable to be extinguished via fire extinguisher or water. 
Thermal imaging indicates that the combustion originates from the 
host's pelvic cavity. 


SCP-2457-A will remain unburnt during the combustion of the host, 
but it will inevitably expire following the host's expiration due to 
interruption of gestation. In addition, following the host's expiration, 
SCP-2457-A's carcass is split into seven portions: head, left and 
right arms, left and right legs, upper and lower torso (cut off at 
waistline). Cause is unknown, although wounds on SCP-2457 
suggest the application of a bladed object on the carcass.