The inside of the structure was bleak. The walls were 
bare cinderblock; bits of it crumbled away in places. The 
floor was just the concrete slab. Oddly, there were no 
cobwebs or hornets’ nests like you usually see in old 
abandoned buildings. The floor, while dusty, showed no 
evidence of animal presence — no droppings, footprints, 
or leaves that had been stuck to some creature’s paws. 
The room was maybe three meters wide and five meters 
long. Besides the entrance door behind us, there were 
two empty door frames leading deeper into the building. 
The four of us stood there for an eternity. Watching. 
Listening. Waiting. 


After what had seemed like an hour (I later learned it had 
been a mere five minutes), | moved forward towards the 
nearer doorframe. The only sound were our footfalls, 
echoing quietly on the concrete. Gazing into the next 
room, | could see it was as featureless as the one we 
were in. Slightly differently shaped, with different 
dimensions, but equally bare. The other doorway 
revealed more of the same. | decided we should take the 
first room. | cracked a glowstick, which | placed on the 
threshold. No sense in getting lost in this maze. We 
entered the second room, illuminated by the pale green 
glow of the glowstick and the bright white lights of our 
rifles. Everything was silent. 


EVAN: 
Corporal Burke. 


BURKE: 
Jesus Christ, EVAN! Are you trying to scare us out of our 
skins? 


EVAN: 
| apologize if | startled you, Corporal. There appears to 
be some interference in your data-uplink. | am only 


receiving your team’s locator beacons and your audio 
channels. All other monitoring devices are 
nonresponsive. 


RIGBY: 
Could be the structure is shielded. 


EVAN: 
That is a distinct possibility, Specialist Rigby. 


SALAZAR: 
We might be able to strengthen our transmission if we 
use one of the comm devices as a signal booster. 


BROOKS: 

Let’s wait on that until we see if this gets worse. I'd rather 
have functioning comms and no data uplink than having 
neither. 


EVAN: 
That is a logical decision, Specialist Brooks. 


BURKE: 

| agree, Doc. EVAN, we're marking our route with 
glowsticks. Can you track us and start building a virtual 
map? It’s a maze in here, and I’d rather we didn’t get 
lost. 


EVAN: 

| have already started on such a map. | will periodically 
transmit what | have developed to your mobile GPS 
devices, so that in the event your locator beacons or 
communications signals reach dangerously low levels, 
you will not get lost. 


BURKE: 
Alright, thank you, EVAN. We’re going to continue. Burke 
out. 


SALAZAR: 
This place gives me the willies. 


RIGBY: 
Me too. 


BURKE (NARRATOR): 

And onward we went, winding deeper into the structure. 
Every room was the same: empty, bare, and gloomy. 
And yet, every one of them was different. No two rooms 
seemed to have the same dimensions or have the empty 
door frames in the same place. Some rooms had many 
doors, others, just a single one leading to a dead end. 
Some were large, easily ten meters on each side, while 
we went through at least one which was barely wide 
enough for us to squeeze through with our gear. The 
doors, or | should say the places where doors should 
have been, varied as much as the rooms. Some were 
large enough you could have easily driven a car through 
them. Others seemed small enough that you’d have to 
worm through on your belly, twisting your shoulders just 
so in order to fit. 


At first the only sounds were the echoes of our footfalls 
bouncing through the lonely rooms and the tense beating 
of our hearts. But then, | swear, the walls started 
whispering at us. I'd open my mouth to mention it to the 
team, but then the sound would vanish, as though it were 
all in my head. | later learned | was not the only one who 
had heard these whispers, but my team had also failed 
to mention them at the time. We kept moving and 
pretending we were alone, unsure which would be 
worse: that we were hearing things that weren't there, or 
that someone or something was there, watching us, just 
out of sight, just in the next dark room. Always in the next 
room or a room to one side or another, for every 
chamber we entered was deserted, bare, and empty. 


After fifteen minutes, I’d lost count of the rooms. | was 
also running low on glowsticks, so | stopped us to 
contact EVAN. 


BURKE: 
EVAN, this is Burke, come in. 


EVAN: 
Your signal strength is weak, Corporal Burke, but | am 
receiving you. 


BURKE: 
EVAN, I’m almost out of glowsticks. How’s the map 
coming? 


EVAN: 

By my estimate, Corporal, you have explored merely 
three zero percent of the structure. | am having difficulty 
uploading it to your GPS, however. Please confirm your 
device is powered on and receiving. 


BURKE: 
That’s funny, its dead. You'll have to guide us out 
manually. 


EVAN: 
Understood, Corporal. 


BROOKS: 

What the hell? My light just went out. Salazar, will you 
shine your flashlight over here while | get the spares out 
of my pack? 


SALAZAR: 
Sure thing, Doc. 


BURKE: 
Shit. My light just died too. Rigby, | thought you swapped 
out all the batteries in everything before we went out. 


RIGBY: 
| did. Fresh batts in everything — SOP. 


SALAZAR: 
Yeah, and | double checked. These things should be 
good for another few days of continuous use. 


BURKE: 
Alright. Break out the spares, everyone, and get them 


where you can reach them without having to dig. 


BROOKS: 
(with quiet urgency) What the—movement southeast! 


(dead silence for several seconds) 


BURKE: 
(quietly) What did you see, Doc? 


BROOKS: 
| don’t know. But something moved in that room. 


BURKE: 
Safeties off, weapons free. Stay alert. Rigby, point. 


RIGBY: 
On it. 


BURKE (NARRATOR): 

This was the first movement — the first, well, anything — 
we'd run into in the structure. We crept forward, rifles 
leveled, alert for any sign of danger. We entered the 
room to discover— 


RIGBY: 
Clear. 


SALAZAR: 
Clear. Dead end. 


RIGBY: 
You sure you saw something, Doc? 


BROOKS: 

Oh, yeah. There was definitely something here. At least 
the size of a dog. Couldn’t tell what it was, other than 
dark and fast. But it was there. 


BURKE: 
| believe you, Doc. 


SALAZAR: 

Well, | don’t know where it could have gone. These walls 
are solid, and we just came through the only way into 
this room. 


RIGBY: 
(a distant shriek is heard) What the hell was that sound!? 


SALAZAR: 
Sounded like a banshee or something. (the shriek 
repeats) There it is again! 


BROOKS: 
| don’t think we’re alone in here. 


BURKE: 
Whatever it was, it came from that direction. Let's move 
out. 


BURKE (NARRATOR): 

Doc Brooks was right — we were most certainly not alone 
in the structure. Something was in there. And that sound 
— that shriek, that ungodly shriek — it made my blood run 
cold. Rigby hit the nail on the head: Hell was that sound. 
And we were going to find it. We ran through the halls of 
the concrete labyrinth, chasing whatever phantom was 
screaming in the night. We’d abandoned all caution, no 
longer slowly creeping, carefully and methodically 
observing the rooms around us. As the shriek kept 
repeating, we ran after it. Left turn, right turn, left turn, 
right turn, we kept zigzagging to chase whatever it was. 
Closer and closer, it was moving away but it was always 
closer — we had to be gaining on it. And then, at last, we 
rounded a final doorway and there it was. A great dark 
beast, taller at the shoulder than any of us, seemingly 
half wolf, half bear, and all shadow. Shaggy and mangy, 
though broader around the middle than a horse you 
could count every single rib. Saliva dripped from 
monstrous jaws. It snarled menacingly. Its eyes seemed 
to glow under the failing illumination of our rifle-mounted 
lights. It seemed to be sizing us up, as if deciding which 


Interview 882-1 


Interviewed: Richard Wright 
Interviewer: Dr. Gears 


Foreword: Richard Wright is identified as a survivor from the small 
community near the initial recovery location of SCP-882. 


<Begin Audio Log, [13:04]> 


Dr. Gears: Please, take a seat. State your name for the record 
please. 


Mr. Wright: Richard Logan Wright... everyone calls me "Rich" 
though. 


Dr. Gears: Excellent, thank you. Mr. Wright, do you recall the date 
when you first saw the object in question? 


Mr. Wright: God, when was it... I'm not really sure, it was a while 
ago... Allen found it first, wrecked his boat on it. He told a few of the 
other fellas about it, said they could sell it for a bundle for scrap. We 
all thought it was a chunk off a jet or a cargo ship. 


Dr. Gears: At what point did the device start operating? 


Mr. Wright: The next day. Damn thing shook off rust like a dog with 
fleas. Started spinning slow, then sped up. By the time | saw it, it 
was really running. Jimmy tried to get closer, try and see what was 
powering it, or why it was so quiet, but he slipped. Got a bad cut 
over his eye and got the hell out of there. Allen seemed kinda off. 
Kept asking us if we were hearing anything. Ms. Parker thought part 
of it was gold, even tried to jam part of it with a pipe to get at it. That 
pipe stuck fast, and smacked her a good one when the gear it was 
on spun around. After that, people mostly kept away. 


Dr. Gears: Were there any other incidents of people being injured or 


of us might be a nice midnight snack. For a long 
moment, we stared at it, and it stared at us, and none of 
us moved. 


In an instant, it leapt forward. We all opened up, blasting 
away with our weapons. It shuddered and fell back, but 
tried to hobble towards us. We kept firing and firing, 
despite everything our training had taught us, nearly 
emptying our weapons into the beast until long after it 
had ceased to move. 


MYERS: 
Xi-13 Friendlies! On your six! 


BURKE (NARRATOR): 

Staff Sergeant Myers, Team 1, and Squad Three had all 
appeared in the room behind us. With their arrival, we 
were snapped out of our battle trance. 


MYERS: 
Stand down, Team 2. 


BURKE: 
Good timing, Staff Sergeant. 


MYERS: 
What the hell were you shooting at, Corporal Burke? 


BURKE: 

The Unknown Anomaly, Staff Sergeant. We found it in 
here and cornered it, but it attacked us. We were 
defending ourselves. 


MYERS: 
Corporal, we bagged the Unknown Anomaly outside, half 
an hour ago. 


SALAZAR: 
What? 


RIGBY: 
That can’t be right. 


BROOKS: 
Staff Sergeant? 


MYERS: 
We tried to radio you, but we couldn't get through. EVAN 
gave us the coordinates and led us through the structure. 


BURKE: 
What? 


MYERS: 
You do speak English, Corporal. 


BURKE: 
Yes, Staff Sergeant. 


BROOKS: 
But if you captured the Unknown Anomaly, then what’s 
that? 


MYERS: 
What's what? 


BURKE: 
That, over there—wait, where did it go? 


MYERS: 
Corporal, there’s nothing in this room except a lot of 
bullet holes and shell casings. 


BURKE (NARRATOR): 

Sure enough, Staff Sergeant Myers was right. The room 
was empty — there was no sign of the beast. No blood, 
no fur, no saliva, nothing. Nothing could have left the 
room, either, since it was a dead end. 


SALAZAR: 
| don’t understand. 


RIGBY: 
It was right here. 


MYERS: 
We'd better get you back to base and have the doctors 
check you out. 


BURKE: 
Yes, Staff Sergeant. 


BURKE (NARRATOR): 

As it turned out, all four members of Xi-13, Second 
Squad, Team 2 were given a clean bill of both mental 
and physical health. During the post-exercise 
assessment, Colonel Hornby informed us that we, and I, 
had passed with acceptable marks, as had EVAN, who 
would be joining our field operations from then on. We 
also learned that a full sweep and clear had been 
conducted of the structure, and no evidence of our 
mystery creature had been found. Interestingly though, 
only about half of the bullets we fired were recovered 
from the back wall of that lonely room deep in the 
structure. 


Sometime later, | passed Colonel Hornby in the hallway 
at Site-19. | asked him about the structure and the beast, 
and if either had been classified as a Skip. His beard hid 
a small smile, and | could see a twinkle in his eye when 
he said that he couldn’t talk about it. I’ve been back to 
Training Area Five several times since, but I’ve never 
made it back to that structure. Maybe someday I'll have 
the clearance and need to know. In the meantime, if | am 
out in the woods late at night, | remember back and 
wonder.... 


<End of Transcript> 


Incursion 


If the words "esoteric containment" mean nothing to you, stop 
listening. 


Time passes, approximately ten seconds. During this time, rain can 
be heard striking a number of windows nearby. 


My name is Doctor Lowell Henry Piedmont. | am a research scientist 
for the Foundation, specialty in esoteric containment of anomalous 
objects, events and locations. | have gone missing. There are three 
others with me. Alicia Connors is an archivist assistant currently 
assigned to SCP-914. Jerald Hanndock is a research assistant, also 
assigned to SCP-914. Matthew Terger is a security agent with whom 
| have worked with to a considerable degree of satisfaction. 


The output of the SCP-316 replica produced by 914... we were 
exposed to the light of this new item. We are now someplace | 
suspect to be the United Kingdom, though we haven't been able to 
confirm this. We have taken shelter in a greenhouse on Terger's 
suggestion — it is elevated, and will give us a good view of any 
more incoming hostiles. We have already been attacked. 


We attempted to make camp in the great room of the adjacent, 
abandoned manor house, but gunfire awoke us during the second 
watch. Terger saw something disturbingly long melt a panel of a 
window. It attempted to reach Connors while she slept. He almost 
lost sight of it. He managed to shoot it, clipped the anterior of its 
body length and sent it running back through the warped hole in the 
window. We relocated immediately. 


This is the first of my records. | will be documenting our attempts to 


return. 


Doctor Piedmont, signing off. Night one. One round expended. 
Seventy-one remain. 


Rain continues for nearly two seconds before recording ends. 


2 


If the words "esoteric containment" mean nothing to you, stop 
listening. 


Time passes, approximately ten seconds. The sounds of running 
and sloshing water are prominent nearby, as are a calm, low male 
voice and a higher pitched female voice, apparently in some 
distress. 


We took a chance and returned to the manor house after daylight 
was sufficient to light the interior of the house. Terger was on point, | 
covered the others from behind. We didn't find more insects. The 
house has outlets but no power- it has no modern accoutrements 
whatsoever, in fact, and is in truth quite sparsely furnished for such 
an estate. There are places where paintings must have hung, 
however, and furniture was moved. It was probably stripped and 
abandoned. Still, we remain in some proximity to our time of origin, 
though we have clearly been geographically displaced. 


We were unable to find any maps or other useful things here 
besides canned foods. Unfamiliar brand names. Could be regional 
food, could be evidence that we are further from home than I'd like 
to admit. Have to keep an open mind. 


We had a debate about going into the basement. | was outvoted 
three to one in favor of breaking the locks and investigating. We 
were reasonably certain that nothing like we saw last night would be 
down there. We were right. 


| know that it sounds absurd, but | have the nagging feeling that the 
thing that took a bite out of Terger's shoulder with the mouth on its