| remember this case from a few years back, not one of mine you 
understand. This family felt they were being haunted and called in all 
manner of people to check it out. Vicars, “ghost speakers”, witch 
doctors and exorcists passed through the place like a tourist 
destination. It was quite a sensational case because whatever was 
haunting them was clearly malevolent. Get out scratched on the 
walls and scars on the children, you know the stuff. But whenever a 
quote-unquote professional took a look there was nothing to see. 
Proof of the activities was everywhere but there weren’t any 
activities at all when people other than the family paid attention. 

So eventually the media lost interest. People stopped discussing it 
by water coolers. And one by one the family were picked off and 
eaten alive in the space of a day and a half. 


Because that’s how dead-things operate. They let you know they’re 
going to get you but they never do until you stop expecting it. 
They’re not even playful, it’s just part of the mentality. 

If | recall correctly the police broke into the place a few weeks later 
and found what was left of the bodies stitched together and rotting 
on the family sofa, television remote clutched in one half-eaten 
hand. 

They pinned it on a serial killer thankfully. | have no idea how hard 
the local Guardian worked to achieve that piece of magic but they 
have my eternal respect. 


Finally something happened — a cup flew from the kitchen table and 
shattered against the wall. A fleck of crockery stung my cheek and | 
turned smiling. Obviously there was nothing there but it was or had 

just been in this room. | saw a flicker. | started to whistle and 


pretended that | hadn’t. These things work easier if the target 
underestimates you. 

| wandered nonchalantly through the kitchen into the large front 
room. The door on the cupboard the television was sat on was 
hanging from its hinges. It was covered in green stains that hadn't 
been there last time | was in the room. 

| reached into my coat and pulled out an old-fashioned yo-yo. | can’t 
remember the last time | saw anybody else with one, | think they 
stopped being popular not long after | was born. But they were 
excellent for making one look innocent. They also made good 
garrotte wires in a pinch given you have the right string. Don’t ask 
me how | know. 

| carried on acting uninterested and stupid as | wandered through 
the house playing with my yo-yo. | still looked like | was looking for a 
ghost but | was looking the same way a presenter from some god- 
awful “documentary” on the paranormal would. 

| had a notion that it was now in the bathroom. | climbed the stairs 
and made my way there. It had decided to reveal itself, | think. 
There’s always the game before the catch, a compulsion we’ve 
already discussed. But this one could probably smell that | was 
different. And that was what made me attractive. 

But I'd be ready. My plan was simple — I’d walk in and when it 
manifested I’d thwack it with the yo-yo. 

That was the big secret about dead-things; they’re completely 
corporeal. Sure they’re the basis for ghosts but the myriad reasons 
for that is a subject | could probably write a book on if | ever found 
the time. 

| walked in and there was bloody writing on the mirror, of course. 
You should not be here. How original. 


| felt a cold sensation behind me. A sort of hissing noise too, not so 
you’d notice if you weren’t expecting it. 

Lazily, | turned. And my mouth dropped. 

Before me stood a gaunt figure. It was partially covered in chitin and 
it rubbed two long hands together in a beetle-like fashion. Its eyes 
were plentiful and should have been on its head rather than torso 
but we’re not all perfect. It had no face. A mouth, eyes on the torso 
but the head was essentially a blank dome. Blood dripped from a 
gaping wound on its side and there were more eyes on the inside of 
the gash. 


It wasn’t supposed to look like that. 

“You're not a dead-thing.” | said. 

“Very astute.” It smiled. 

Then | was asleep and | couldn’t tell you why. 


| was bound to a chair in the kitchen when | opened my eyes. 
Seamus was there and so was the monster, they were stood side by 
side. Seamus looked almost reluctant but there was a hunger in his 
features too. 

He had a melon-baller dangling loosely from one hand. He looked to 
the creature and it nodded. He walked over to me and its eyes span 
and followed him. 

“| lied at the pub.” He said, almost apologetically. 

“You certainly did.” 

“I... we needed you.” 

That was confusing. 

“Why me? Anyone you’ve ever met will tell you I’m nothing special.” 
He motioned to his face, and tried to think of the right words. 

“You... perceive. Things we can’t. We tried for months and nothing 
let us. You see things that most others don’t, too. No, other people 
like us.” He said before | could speak. 

“Well that’s news to me, Seamus. | think your friend over there’s 
been talking shit.” 

“Nobody tells you that you make no sense.” It said. 

“On the times you converse with others, you discuss the things 
you've seen and people raise not a question. Have their faces 
never given it away? You are a rare thing, Seeker. One that 
sees all that there is.” 

“That sounds totally idiotic. Believe me, if that was true | would 
notice." | said, but | started thinking about it. The first time I’d 
encountered a corpse-thing | told a gentleman who I'd known for a 
long while about the whole thing. He had raised his eyebrows at my 
description of it in a way that should have implied to me that he 
didn’t know that they looked like that. That wasn’t proof of course but 
| hadn’t got where | was today by not believing things. 

That in mind | had got where | was today by fucking up a simple 
investigation. 

Seamus looked at the monster then back to me. He dropped to my 
level, his face an inch from mine. 


“We have to take your eyes. I’m sorry but we have to.” 

He kissed my forehead and my lips. | only hated him slightly more. 
“lam really sorry.” 

My eyes flickered to the kitchen table. My yo-yo lay on it. 

“You do seem to be sorry.” | said “But ina moment you'll be even 
sorrier.” 

“You're right.” He said and started digging the melon baller into my 
socket. 


| screamed. Pain shot through my skull as the jagged teeth around 
the cup bit through flesh. | don’t know how he was planning to sever 
the optic nerve but he’d persist until it was done. Everything went 
red on my right side. | screamed until | was hoarse. 

The yo-yo was still there. 

| put up a little struggle as he worked my eye free and waited for the 
monster to make its move. It was smiling so eagerly. It sniffed at the 
air and savoured the scent of my blood. And eventually it moved 
closer to get a better look. 

With a wet pop my eye came loose from the socket. Seamus stood 
back a little and looked at his work. The creature closed in, it’s 
clawed hands raised. 


| spat a word that | shouldn’t have been able to pronounce, and 
couldn't without the pain to guide my lips. 
The yo-yo on the table burst in a flash of blinding dark. 


There was a rending sound and maybe some screams. 

My face was very wet. 

Once | could see again there wasn’t much left of the creature. 
Seamus lay on the floor, panting heavily and looking with shock at 
his arm. Well, where his arm should have been. 

| shrugged off the ropes which had been frayed to pieces. 

| crouched by Seamus, ignoring the pain from my eye. 
“Checkmate my friend.” | said. 


| held Seamus by the scruff of the neck and he stared at the door. 

It was an unimpressive one. A flat dull piece of wood with an off-grey 
handle. But he knew that it held importance. 

So did |, for that matter. 

My eye was gone. I'd had to cut it off myself, pieces of the monster 


(which | still didn’t recognise) had clung to it and bubbles that 
shouldn’t have appeared did. If | didn’t lose the eye then | may have 
lost my brain, or become a slave or another one of the monsters. 
You never know. 

The patch was good enough for now but if | wanted to keep 
appearances up | would have to get some mirrored glasses. 

“Here we go.” | told Seamus after a moment. 

Silence, silence for a good few minutes before he replied. 

“| didn’t want this.” 

“Nobody wants this. | don’t want this.” 

“Then let me leave!” He cried, trying to turn to look at me. 

“What would you have done to me after it took my eyes, Seamus?” 
His shoulders sagged. 

“| think | should correct myself in that case. | usually don’t want this.” 
He stopped speaking again. | pulled him aside and put my hand on 
the door. 

“May | ask something?” he said. 

“You just did.” 

He looked at me. | rolled my eye. 

“One thing.” 

“If...” he licked his lips nervously. “If it had just been a ghost. Would 
you still be doing... this?” 

| looked at the door. 

“Yes.” | said. 

His face fell. 

“Hey. You asked.” | pulled the door open. 

“I'd say it’s been a pleasure, but...” 

| threw him in and closed the door. | held my hands to my ears but 
the screams were so loud. 

After they stopped | opened the door and went in myself. 


The Unknowable Thing loomed over me, a half-digested and 
catatonic Seamus lay below It. 

“Here we are. One scumbag supreme. And the monster fucker is 
gone too.” 

It questioned me. 

“Blown to bits. Not coming back. As specified.” 

It was satisfied. 

| looked around, almost looked up at It but remembered what 
happened the last time | looked at It directly. 


“You didn’t tell me why they wanted me.” 

The Unknowable Thing asked a question. 

“Hell yes it was important! The only reason | survived is because of 
that bloody toy! What if | hadn’t brought it along, huh? Then where’d 
you be?” 

It commented. 

| raised a finger. 

“Bullshit. If | was that dispensable | wouldn’t be standing here. You’d 
have found someone else.” 

The Unknowable Thing conceded. 

I’d already had enough. Talking to the Unknowable Thing always 
drains you. 

| turned to leave and It let me. | was at the door before | turned and 
asked a question. 

“Is it true? What the monster said about me?” 

It answered. 

| nodded and stepped out the door and up the cellar steps. 


God but | needed a drink. As always. 


But that’s just how it is in my line of work. 


How 173 Got to Site-19 


Item #: SCP-173 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-173 is to be 
kept in a modified containment chamber at Site-91. Said 
chamber is to be equipped with a sprinkler system. The 
sprinkler system is to be activated fortnightly to dispose 
of waste materials formed in the chamber. If personnel 
are required to enter SCP-173's chamber, at least 3 
personnel are to be present. At least 1 of those 
individuals must maintain direct visual contact with 
SCP-173 at all times while inside the chamber. 


Description: SCP-173 is a statue constructed of 
concrete and reinforcing steel with traces of spray paint. 
It is animate, although it may only move when no 
individual observes it visually. When animate, SCP-173 
tends to attack surrounding individuals in the vicinity. 
Common methods of attack include strangulation or 
snapping one's neck. 


About once per day, waste materials are spontaneously 
generated around SCP-173's vicinity. Chemical analysis 
of waste materials indicates that they are formed from a 
combination of faeces and blood. The mechanism in 
which SCP-173 generates waste materials is unknown. 


SCP-173 was brought into Site-91 on / /2008 CE by 
Foundation agents. Information of SCP-173 prior to 
containment by the Foundation is unknown. 


hal 
Addendum 173-746: On 04/10/2045 CE, SCP-173 and 


Mr. : Fi...I'm fine, fine. Who are you? 


Dr. : lam Doctor . I'm just here to 
verify some details about what you told the 
police. 


Mr. _: Sure, | guess. Shoot. 


Dr. : What did this 'monster' look like, can 
you describe it for me? 


Mr. _: Are you calling me a liar? It's true, | 
swear, it was there! 


Dr. : Please, answer the question, 


Mr. _: Sorry...sorry. Just kinda stressed. 
Well, it sort of looked like a spider, but with 
way...way too many legs. It was just running at 
me and screeching and | shot it. 


Dr. : Was this the first time you'd seen the 
monster, ? 


Mr. : Um, uh... 

Dr. : I'm sorry? Answer the question, 
please. 

Mr. _ :|I'd...I'd been seeing them everywhere. 


I'd been following them, seeing what they did. | 
needed to know they were real, you know? 


Dr. : Understandable. Did you see 
anything important? 


Mr.  : One ofthe bastards was hunting this 
guy. | just saw it, outside his house, watching 
him. Me watching it watching him. Have...have 
you ever dropped something, then looked on 
the floor and it's gone? 


other SCP objects were transferred from Site-91 to 
[REDACTED]. See Document 91/04-10-2045 for more 
information. 


Excerpts recovered from the email account of Dr. James Long 
+ 07:30, 06/09/2045 CE 


FROM: Alexandra Nala, Administrative 
Assistant, Office of the Overseer Council 
TO: Dr. James Long, Director, Site-91 
RE: Relocation of SCPs 


Greetings, Dr. Long. Writing to inform you that 
a number of SCP objects held at Site-91 are 
slated for relocation from Site-91 to an 
undisclosed location for safer containment; 
see Attachment for a list of affected SCP 
objects. The Department of Extra-Universal 
Affairs shall be in charge of the operations of 
transfer, therefore please allow them to 
complete their task. Date of transfer is on the 
4th of October this year, 2045 CE. 


If you have any queries regarding the 
operation, please contact Senior Agent Sven 
Kisch of the Multi-Universal Department. This 
operation is approved unanimously by the 
Overseer Council (13:0 ratio). 


Secure. Contain. Protect. 

Alexandra Nala 

Administrative Assistant, Office of the 
Overseer Council 


+ Download Attachment 
+ 09:43, 07/09/2045 CE 
FROM: Dr. James Long, Director, Site-91 


TO: Alexandra Nala, Administrative Assistant, 
Office of the Overseer Council 
RE: RE: Relocation of SCPs 


Hi, Alexandra. I've noted your email on the 
relocation effort. In light of massive logistics 
involved in the effort, | would like to request 
more data on the site in which the affected 
SCPs shall move into. 


Thank you in advance. 


Regards, 
Dr. James Long, PhD 
Director, Site-91 


+ 09:53, 07/09/2045 CE 


FROM: Alexandra Nala, Administrative 
Assistant, Office of the Overseer Council 
TO: Dr. James Long, Director, Site-91 
RE: RE: RE: Relocation of SCPs 


Greetings, Dr. Long. Noted your enquiry. 
Unfortunately, you are not cleared for the 
information requested. 


Secure. Contain. Protect. 

Alexandra Nala 

Administrative Assistant, Office of the 
Overseer Council 


+ 10:34, 09/09/2045 CE 


FROM: Dr. James Long, Director, Site-91 
TO: Senior Agent Sven Kisch, Head, 
Acquisitions Division, Department of Extra- 
Universal Affairs 

RE: Relocation of Site-91 SCPs 


Hi, Agent Kisch. | am Dr. James Long, Director 
of Site-91. | am aware that you're my point-of- 


contact for the transfer of SCPs from Site-91. 
As the operation involves essentially every 
SCP currently in my site, | would like specifics 
as to this operation. 


Hope you will reply soon. 


Regards, 
Dr. James Long, PhD 
Director, Site-91 


+ 17:41, 13/09/2045 CE 


FROM: Senior Agent Sven Kisch, Head, 
Acquisitions Division, Department of Extra- 
Universal Affairs 

TO: Dr. James Long, Director, Site-91 

RE: RE: Relocation of Site-91 SCPs 


Hello, Dr. Long. | apologise for the late reply. 
From my understanding, the specifics behind 
our transfer operations are reserved strictly to 
members of the Multi-U and O5 Council. All 
that you're allowed to know is that the affected 
SCPs will be transported to a secured location 
where their threat to normalcy is significantly 
reduced. 


| hope to see you at Site-91 soon. 


Sincerely, 

Senior Agent Sven Kisch