SCP-2420: No, I'm fine. | guess she, uh, didn't 
die after all, right? [SCP-2420 laughs then 
coughs.] A car hit her. | guess | wasn't paying 
attention. People said | was lucky | didn't get 
hit, but I'd rather've gotten hit. Maybe | 
wouldn't've died. Squished her down the 
middle. It was horrible. Person driving the car 
was some teen girl. Wasn't her fault. | was 
jaywalking. She was young. Wasn't her fault. | 
knew her mother. She lived on the street. But, 
| couldn't stop crying. There she was. Waltzing 
Matilda May, there she fucking was, and she 
was dead. Bleeding everywhere. | took her in 
my arms. She wasn't breathing. | didn't get to 
be there for her last breath. | think she died 
when | was crying, when | was stunned by all 
the, the shit. 


Dr. Hydock: And what was done with the 
body? 


SCP-2420: | took her. | walked her. It wasn't 
that far. Said | was in shock, but | knew what | 
was doing. | got a shovel from my garage. My 
dad's shovel. | got her favorite blanket. Guess 
it was my blanket, really. A big, uh, green one. 
She always loved it. It was mine, but it may as 
well have been hers. She was more 
comfortable with it than anyone else could 
have been, you know? You give adog a 
blanket, and you swear, no human could ever 
be so cozy. So | wrapped her up. All broken. 
God, she was so small. | dug a hole. In the 
middle of my backyard. There was a spot 
where the shade of the trees didn't reach. 
She'd lay there. Waltzing Matilda May | Have 


This Dance. That's what | named her after. 
You know, the song. | buried her. She should, 
uh, still be there. You guys can check it out. 
No one moved it. 


Dr. Hydock: Certainly, SCP-2420. Thank you 
for your cooperation. If you want to stop now, | 
would certainly understand. It has been a 
tough day for you. 


SCP-2420: No. It's fine. There's only a little bit 
more anyway. Can I, can I, uh, continue? 


Dr. Hydock: Absolutely. 


SCP-2420: | was going to kill myself, the day | 
noticed that she was, uh, everywhere dogs 
were. Just a normal walk. But | was going to, 
uh, jump off a bridge. | don't know if | really 
was gonna, to be honest, ma'am. But it felt like 
| was gonna. It felt right. But, things were 
weird. | never noticed so many Border Terriers 
in my life. The neighbors, all of 'em, identical, 
and they looked just like Mattie. | thought | was 
losing it. They were trying to get under the 
gate, trying to climb up it, barking at me, 
carrying on. |, uh, didn't notice anything was 
weird until | got near the dog park. 


Dr. Hydock: And that's where we found you, 
correct? 


SCP-2420: Ha, yeah. | guess. That's where 
you all found me. | just, | don't know why | got 
there. Wasn't even near the bridge. Wasn't 
even all that close. | think | just wanted to see 
some. Before | died. They were always so 
nice. Dogs. But, they were all Border Terriers. 
And they were all running to me. So many of 
them. And they all, well, they all stopped in 
front of me. Owners were yelling. People were, 


uh, screaming. They were slipping out of 
collars that had gotten too big. They were, uh, 
breaking free from everything. To come to me. 
And they encircled me. They were all her. | 
knew it immediately. They were all her. One 
walked up to me, and it bit my hand. Gentle. 
And that's when | fainted. Then, well, I'm here. 


Dr. Hydock: Excellent. Thank you very much 
for your cooperation. Is there anything you 
need before this is concluded? 


SCP-2420: Uh, yeah. Just one. Just one thing. 
Dr. Hydock: Yes? 


SCP-2420: Does it hurt them? Does what she 
does hurt them? | heard they stop being her 
when I'm not there. Are they okay? 


Dr. Hydock: Yes. When they're not instances 
of SC—I mean, when they cease to be Mattie, 
there is no pain in the switch. Either to or from. 
None of the dogs have exhibited any signs, 
anomalous or not, of being in any way affected 
by Mattie and your effect. 


SCP-2420: And you. You're not going to hurt 
them? 


Dr. Hydock: Pardon me? 


SCP-2420: Listen, I've seen ET. I'm not stupid. 
You're going to dissect them. Dissect her 
maybe. And I'm telling you. Please don't. 
Please don't hurt a dog because of me. | beg 
of you. 


Dr. Hydock: | will, | will see what | can do, 
SCP-2420. Once again, thank you. 


SCP-2420: Will | get to see her again? 


Dr. Hydock: Visiting times can certainly be 
arranged. Especially for testing purposes. 


SCP-2420: Thank you. | miss her so much. | 
didn't even get to tell her how good a girl she 
was. For, you know. Being magic. 


[Foundation operatives were able to recover 
the remains of SCP-2420's former pet where it 
had claimed them to be. The remains were not 
anomalous in any way and had been met with 
the expected amount of decay.] 


[End of Interview Log] 


Incident-2420-A: During a routine session with SCP-2420 and 
SCP-2420-1, the latter was found to have reverted to its original 
appearance while in the presence of the former. Continued testing 
with SCP-2420 and other dogs showed that the SCP-2420 anomaly 
had been most likely extinguished. Currently, SCP-2420 has been 
allowed to perform Level-0 clerical work while the Ethics Committee 
will meet to decide what actions to take next. The object has been 
deemed neutralized. 


+ Incident 2420-A Interview Log 


[This interview took place immediately after 
Incident-2420-A.] 


Dr. Hydock: Was there anything different 
about Mattie today, SCP-2420? 


SCP-2420: No. It was just like any other day. 
She came in, jumped around a bit. Took her 
on alittle walk, and we were just sitting 
together. Just normal. Lounging. But, | don't 
know, something felt weird. You'd noticed it, 
right? She had been looking older. Even whiter 
in the jaw. In her snout. God, how long have | 
been here, Doc? Six years? 


Dr. Hydock: Actually, ten. 


SCP-2420: Jesus. Well that's a long time, isn't 
it? But yeah, so I'd been noticing. She had 
been getting older. Which was weird since 
really this hasn't been ten years for her. It's 
only been, what, six hours a week for ten 
years? But whatever, maybe it was stressful 
on her. Maybe time doesn't work like that. | 
don't know. 


Dr. Hydock: True. We've found that a normal 
timeline doesn't apply to most anomalous 
objects under our care. 


SCP-2420: Yeah, see? But, she'd been quiet. 
And cuddly. And | guess it was almost time for 
her to go. You know, time's up. She always 
knew when it was Close, time-wise. So she 
hopped off the couch. And you know, that 
usually hurt her hips a little bit, but she didn't 
wince or anything. She licked my hand. And 
then she bit it, looked me in the eyes. And 
that's when | knew that this was going to be 
the last time | saw her. That's when | knew. It 
had been so hard for her. To cling in all those 
other dogs. | wonder how we did it. It was 
hard, but she loved me, | guess. 


Dr. Hydock: And then she was gone? 


SCP-2420: She let go. And she barked at me. 
Once. Impatient. The way she did when she 
had a toy, and | wasn't paying attention. She 
grinned, stupid grin. Tongue flopping. And then 
it was like. | don't know. Like a flash. And then 
suddenly she was that confused Golden 
Retriever. Poor baby. Had no fucking clue who 
| was. [SCP-2420 pauses, coughs.] So, | 
guess you're, uh, not gonna keep me around 
anymore, right? Gonna suck out my memories, 


The structure and skeleton seem to either have been mounted upon, 
or are part of, a hemisphere just over one meter in diameter, 
composed of what appears to be the same unknown metal. The 
edge of the hemisphere is lined with evenly spaced spikes about 

2.5 cm (1 in) in length. Several of the statues have been seen 
interacting with the sphere in various ways, and seem to be aware of 
its existence. The back side of the hemisphere is covered in 
carvings of several languages, including Arabic, Hebrew, German, 
and . Translation of the language has been suspended 
indefinitely due to [DATA EXPUNGED] (see Addendum 264-02). 


SCP-264 is sentient, communicating through several non-verbal 
forms, including Japanese, Taiwanese, Korean sign language, and 
Morse code. It is most frequently recorded communicating through 
writing, however, and has been noted writing in nearly every 
language currently discovered, including the language. On rare 
occasions, a designated statue will speak for the SCP; there have 
been only two recorded instances of this happening since its 
discovery. 


Subject refers to itself as "The Guardian", and refers to the carved 
statues as separate entities. SCP-264 claims to be the creator of the 
statues and the structure they "live" in. The statues appear to be 
aware of "The Guardian's" existence, as they have been observed 
retrieving several objects from the interior of the hemisphere, where 
it is presumed the structure expands. Objects retrieved from the 
interior include a stick of charcoal, papyrus, SCP-  , anda small 
semi-transparent marble of [DATA EXPUNGED] which was 
presented to Agent by one of the statuettes. 


How SCP-264 is capable of communicating with its "subjects" is 
currently unknown, as neither it nor the statues emit any form of 
psychic read-out. However, SCP-264 has alluded to having abilities 
of precognition. Taken from Interview 264a: 


SCP-264: | saw what would happen to the doctor as 
easily as you see me and my people now. 

Dr. Carnival: How exactly did you manage to do that? 
SCP-264: | trace the threads of Fate. 


SCP-264 refused to elaborate on what it meant. However, it can be 


drop me back into the real world? 


Dr. Hydock: That is certainly a possibility. 
Would you prefer that? Honestly, most people 
under our care would do anything to escape 
us. 


SCP-2420: | don't want to go. | don't want to 
go anywhere where I'll forget her. I'm afraid if | 
go back out, I'll die without her. | won't 
remember how she did such strange things to 
be with me again. That | did such wild shit. I'm 
afraid of being myself again. The old me. I'm 
worried I'll walk right back to that bridge, but 
she won't be at the dog park again. Shit, if you 
want, I'll clean up the toilets. And fuck, ten 
years. How am | gonna get a job? Ten years. 
Jesus. 


Dr. Hydock: | will bring that to the attention of 
the Ethics Committee, though | make no 
promises. But, what | want to ask is do you 

feel meaningfully different, SCP-2420? 
Certainly our conversations over the years 
have shown you take a turn. Do you believe it 
to be the medication, the anomalous effects, or 
was it merely being allowed to see your dog 
again? 


SCP-2420: | don't know, Doc. Probably the 
latter? | don't know. | mean, do you want me to 
say whether or not you think my dog somehow 
cured my depression? 


Dr. Hydock: That's certainly a question that's 
been on my mind. 


SCP-2420: Of course she didn't cure me. It 
just felt nice. That someone loved me enough. 
To do what she did. But she's just a dog. She's 
not magic. 


[End of Interview Log] 


Footnotes 
1. Given the noted similarities in their manifestation of deceased 
pets, a possible link toSCP-3737is being investigated. 


« SCP-2419 | SCP-2420 | SCP-2421 » 


SCP-2421: Don't let the bathbugs bite 


Item #: SCP-2421 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: Through controlled feeding at 
certain known feeding areas, the range of SCP-2421 has been 
limited to a 250 km2 area in the south of Russia. Mobile Task Force 
Alpha-2 ("Resort Staff") are responsible for maintaining these areas. 
Feeding areas are presented as a chain of resorts branded as 
Fundamental Springs. D-Class are stationed at all feeding areas for 
the purpose of consumption. 


Description: SCP-2421 is a large subterranean entity which resides 
a minimum of 100 meters beneath ground level. It has a roughly 
oval shape with a segmented shell covering most of its body and 
fleshy gaps between each segment to allow for articulation. Hair-like 
protrusions cover the outside of the shell in an irregular pattern. 
SCP-2421 possesses no legs and moves in a manner similar to a 
caterpillar. At the presumed front of the creature are two claw-like 
mandibles which allow it to burrow through rock. It is approximately 
300 m long and possesses a 150 m long proboscis protruding from 
between the mandibles. Additionally, imaging has shown SCP-2421 
to possess an intricate skeletal structure within its shell containing a 
number of air-filled chambers, the purpose of which are unknown. 
Sample analysis of the entity reveals a non-standard genetic 
structure, possibly suggesting extradimensional origin. 


The creature feeds by extending its proboscis towards the surface 
and puncturing the bottom of a small body of water in which the 
temperature is approximately 25 degrees Celsius or higher. These 
locations include hot springs, spas, or in one case a bath. Once the 
bottom of the body of water has been punctured, a sphincter at the 
end of the proboscis will open and any humans within the water will 
be pulled inside. The entity will consume approximately 5 humans 
over a two day period once per month and will expand its feeding 


area should humans be scarce. Feeding episodes consistent with 
SCP-2421 were first reported in May 184 . Attempts to replace D- 
Class with animals during feeding episodes have been 
unsuccessful, as test animals remained untouched despite the water 
being the correct temperature and within the feeding range. 


D-Class fed to SCP-2421 implanted with tracking devices have been 
observed to move in the air-filled chambers of the entity's shell in an 
erratic manner. In one incident where civilians were unavoidably 
consumed during a feeding episode a call was made to the 
Foundation-owned spa resort from the phone of a presumed-dead 
civilian within the entity. No specific words were identified; however, 
background sounds of conversation, laughter, splashing, low moans, 
and what has been determined to be seagulls were recorded. 


Footnotes 
1. Observed feeding as far from the current containment area as__, 
California prior to current measures. 


« SCP-2420 | SCP-2421 | SCP-2422 » 


SCP-2422: A Friendly Family 


Item #: SCP-2422 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: The four members of 
SCP-2422 are to be housed together in a modified set of nine 
standard humanoid containment cells, which are to be made to 
connect to each other through open doorways. These rooms are to 
be furnished within reasonable limits to the tastes of the members of 
SCP-2422 as a simulation of a full-size home and small walled-in 
backyard, including one approved charcoal grill. All cellular network 
and internet communications are to be jammed within these nine 
cells. 


SCP-2422-A and -B are to be provided with standard textbooks pre- 
approved by the Project Director in any available requested school 
subjects, in order to homeschool SCP-2422-C and -D. SCP-2422-B 
is, within reason, to be provided with whatever standard food items it 
requests as it seems to prepare meals for the group. With the 
authorization of SCP-2422-B, SCP-2422-C may also make requests 
for certain foods, as it seems to maintain a vegan diet. 


All members of SCP-2422 are to be closely monitored through live 
video feed for any communication with the outside world. If any of 
them are observed communicating with any entity outside the 
Foundation, all of them are to be terminated, due to the fact that the 
entity the members of SCP-2422 refer to as “Wandering Father” 
may pose a security threat. Prayers to Wandering Father are not to 
be considered actual communication with this entity. 


Description: SCP-2422 is a group of four humanoids (designated 
SCP-2422-A through -D), who claim to be directly related to each 
other. All members have thus far been cooperative with Foundation 
personnel, and have shown a generally amicable demeanor towards 
all staff they have met. Notably, SCP-2422 voluntarily surrendered