It should be noted that SCP-1004 displays no compulsive properties. 
Users are free at any time to stop using the program. The majority of 
users continue to use SCP-1004 because it is the easiest way to 
find the desired pornography. 


As stated above, any word, or combination of words may be 
entered. This has been used by many victims to view popular 
members of high social standing in the bedroom, giving rise to many 
rumors of ‘celebrity sex tapes.’ The thought has been posited that 
such videos could be used for the blackmailing of politicians who are 
antithetical to the Foundation cause. Unfortunately, at this time, all 
attempts to make recordings of SCP-1004 have resulted in only 
taped static. Several researchers have claimed to be able to see 
humanoid shapes moving in the static, but this effect has not been 
seen on subsequent playthroughs. 


SCP-1004 appears to spread through the use of electronic 
messages, sent seemingly at random. Messages generally claim to 
have certain celebrities performing sexual acts, or to have certain 
depraved acts on tape that are illegal in many jurisdictions. A link 
included in the message requests users to enter their home 
address. The resulting copy of SCP-1004 show up in a plain brown 
wrapper within three days, through bulk mail, with no return address. 


The Foundation currently contains 37 copies of SCP-1004-1, and 23 
copies of SCP-1004-2. 


Incident 1004-Dale: Researcher Adam Dale was found to be 
encouraging D-class subjects to watch SCP-1004, and to copulate 
with each other for his pleasure. It was determined Researcher Dale 


"Alright, Agent Mcclanahan, you know the drill." 
"Don't | ever", said the man to the blank wall. 


The box was small, cramped and featureless. Mark Mcclanahan 
stared at the single camera lens in front of him and tried to act like 
he wasn't about to be interrogated by a close friend. It was the drill, 
after all. 


"Alright Mark, this has been your, uh, forty-seventh debrief and 
coghaz decontamination procedure. You remember that, yes?" 


"Each and every one." 
"Okay, let's begin.” 


The speaker emanated the sounds of leafing papers. A small 
moment of silence permeated the space as Mcclanahan took a deep 
breath. Here we go. 


"State your name and identification for the record." 


"Agent Mark Mcclanahan. Seven-four-alpha-nine-six-delta, erm, 
thirty-three." 


"Good. And now, your phrase." 

"In the twilight, the black and white goes gray." What a stupid line. 
"Correct. Onto boilerplate loyalty tests. What is the Foundation?" 
"The salvation of mankind." 

"Do you work for the Foundation?" 

"Always, as far back as | can remember, thanks to you guys." 


"Keep it professional, Mark." 


"Yeah, yeah." 

"Do you have doubts about the Foundation?" 
"No." 

"Do you have plans against the Foundation?" 
"No." 

"Do you dream of leaving the Foundation?" 
"No." 

"Count to seven for me, 74A96D-33." 

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven." 

"How many numbers are between four and seven?" 
"Two." 

"How many numbers are between five and six?" 
"None." 

"You hear about that thing down in Samothrace?" 
"No." 

"Feel your skin. Is it yours?" 

"Irrelevant. My skin belongs to the Foundation." 
"Is the vessel a vessel without the flesh?" 

"They are one in the same." 

"Do you prefer flesh or metal?" 

"| prefer life.” 


"Good. Do you recognize the bodies in the water?" 


"| do not." 
"Where do you go when you are alone?" 
"| visit my family." 


There was a Slight pause, the shuffling of papers. The man on the 
other end, he hated doing this as much as Markus hated him doing 
it. When the wall spoke again, its voice was quieter than before. 


"Can you tell me what they told you?" 

"| work to serve in the dark, so others may live in the light." 
"Who is your superior?" 

"| serve the oh-five." 

"Do you question the Overseers?" 

"No." 

"Recite your phrase." 

"In the twilight, the black and white goes gray." 
"Where do you go when you go to sleep?" 
"Inside myself." 

"Where do you go when you look away?" 
"Inside myself." 

"Where is Site-104?" 

"Site-104 does not exist." 

"Take a drink from the glass in front of you." 
"There is no glass." 


"Good. Continuing further. What does the key look like?" 


"| don't know." 

"Does it open a lock?" 

"No." 

"Does it open yourself?" 

"No." 

"How many stars are in the sky?" 

"Too many to count." 

"How many stars have died?" 

"| don't know." 

"Does the black moon howl?" 

"When the twilight turns gray." 

"Are you unclean?" 

"| certainly hope not." 

"Professional, Mark." 

"Sorry, no, I'm not." 

"Good" 

"Does the name 'Ruhar' mean anything to you?" 
"No." 

"Have you ever dreamt of being on a carousel with a close friend?" 
"No." 

"Where do you go when you are not here?" 


"I'm never not here." 


"What does this image mean to you?" 


A symbol manifested on the white wall on Mcclanahan's left. He 
gave it a good look and turned to face the camera once more. 


"It means nothing." 
"Recite your phrase." 
"In the twilight, the black and white goes gray." 


More silence. Mcclanahan sat on the hard, metal chair for moments 
that felt like eternity. 


"Alright, Agent Mcclanahan, please step outside." 

Relieved, the agent quickly grabbed his coat off the back of the chair 
and left the room in a hurry. On the other side, two guards greeted 
him with dour expressions on their faces. 

"What? What is it now?" 

"Mark, you have no family.” 


"What, I-" 


Then, it all went black. The agent was never seen again. No one 
blinked an eye, and no one questioned his passing. The world 
turned onward and the last words the agent heard as life left his 
body echoed in his mind until the void embraced him. 


"This isn't your fault.” 


Tales Z 


Zero Hour 


Provisional Site-136/LARPA "Boromine Branch" 
Boromine, Nevada - West Sector Control Room 
07/25/2022, 11:02 AM 


"Time's up." 


Petahn lunged quickly at Simmons, who stepped back. Petahn 
clutched his side before he could finish his lunge; a small puff of 
gunpowder smoke emanated from the barrel of Simmons's gun. 
Petahn slumped to the ground as he curled up in pain. Simmons ran 
over and crouched near Petahn. 


"Petahn? You alright?" A small moan. 


"That was idotic Petahn, stupid at best. Don't try that again!" 
Simmons stood up and sat back down in his seat. He placed the gun 
on the control table. A green medical box was nearby, so Simmons 
popped it open and took out some bandages. He tossed them 
towards Petahn and they unfurled like toilet paper in the air. 


"Use those. | don't want you bleeding out on the floor. You should be 
fine, no real necessary organs there." 


Petahn managed to prop himself up in a sitting position as he 
applied pressure the bandages. The wound felt like a hundred hot 
coals pressed to his skin, but thankfully blood wasn't flowing out 
anymore. Petahn felt like being shot was livable. 


It could have certainly gone that way, Petahn thought. But things 
were going along smoothly and he wasn't going to do anything 


stupid now. 
"We're done here. We should go and find Captain Quayle." 


Simmons sighed. "Look, Petahn. You're not going to like this, but | 
am telling you to say here and get rid of the program. Use PLAN-X. 
You had your chance to try fixing it. Now it's mine." 


Petahn was frustrated now. They were just going in a circle with 
whether or not to use PLAN-X, as well as wasting time. Time they 
didn't have to spend. But Petahn knew at that point that Simmons 
was right. He had spend several months testing, the months he'd 
promised would end this. And the only thing he had done was make 
it worse. He knew that the reason he'd wanted to stop PLAN-X was 
just to prove to himself that he had done something useful. And the 
voice of reason was slapping him in the face, telling him to wake up. 
He knew that he had been wrong. And he knew how to make it right. 


"Alright Simmons. I've known you for a while. You have a good 
reason for blowing the place up?" 


Simmons walked over to an electrical panel behind Petahn and 
started to prepare the sequence for PLAN-X. He mentioned for 
Petahn to help him out. 


"I'm glad you could see it through, friend. This won't be in vain. | 
promise." 


Petahn monitored the electrical equipment in the room. The power 
system of Provisional Site-136 had been on the fritz ever since the 
containment breach, and appeared to not have enough power to 
start up PLAN-X. He drained the power from some currently unused 
areas in Sections Ten and Twelve, then funneled it to the West 
Control Room. The men worked quickly, and in several minutes the 
initial stages had been completed. 


"Hey, Simmons?" asked Petahn. 
"Yeah?" 


"Do you think for once, just once, we're going to do the right thing?" 


"What do you mean?" 


Petahn worked at the panel, trying to power up a medium-sized 
terminal embedded in the control panel. He turned towards 
Simmons and spoke up. 


"We've been doing the wrong things. Goddamn incompetent at best. 
| wish someone would've warned us, 'Hey, respectfully that's a 
stupid idea. Maybe this would be a better option?" Petahn made a 
pointing motion towards his palm with the other hand. "I was too 
invested trying to be humanity's savior | neglected to think about 
what would happen if | wasn't." 


Simmons typed in the energy readings into his panel. "Do you mean 
the containment? How we should've limited these things? Destroyed 
the advanced ones as soon as possible...", Simmons trailed off. 


"We were idiots. But humanity doesn't need to suffer because of 
mistakes. Mistakes can be fixed. So let's fix it." 


Petahn, who had finally powered up the terminal, logged into it. It 
had been connected to a large board display on one of the 
octagonal room's walls. Simmons re-plugged a cable into the display 
as a flash shot through the room. The display showed Provisional 
Site-136's readouts, from every floor to every air duct. 


Petahn rotated the site readout to the West Sector, then focused in. 
Sections Nine through Twelve were highlighted in a blinking 
crimson, meaning that the area was currently in danger and 
uncontained. Petahn looked at the board briefly before attempting to 
close out the readout. He was halted, however, by Simmons, who 
had grabbed his shoulder. 


"Petahn, look!" 


He shot around and looked at the bright board. The crimson stopped 
blinking, then was replaced by a lemon yellow color. That had meant 
that the area was still under possible danger, but it was contained. 
Moments later the two men had heard a crackle over the radio. 


"Captain Quayle to Researcher Petahn, Captain Quayle to 


Researcher Petahn, over." 


Petahn scrambled for the radio, perched on the panel Simmons was 
working at. Petahn hit the ground with a hard thump as he grabbed 
the radio. He got up, rubbed his head for a bit, then pushed the PTT 
button. 


"Yes, this is Researcher Petahn to Captain Quayle. What's your 
status there? Over." 


A couple of seconds, then another crackle. 


"If you are in the West Control room, can you pull up the display for 
Camera G4-J? That's Gamma Four Joker. Over." 


Petahn replaced the site readout with the camera displays. Every 
camera in the site was hooked up to both control rooms, and could 
be watched, recorded, or even controlled with the push of a button. 
Simmons pulled up the G4-J camera, which overlooked the G4 Fire 
Door, where Petahn had made his way back to Section Twelve in. 
Near the door was a standing figure, slightly blurry, holding a radio 
and waving to the camera. The camera feed was up for no more 
than a couple of seconds when the figure raised the radio to his 
mouth. 


"Can you guys see me? Over." 


Simmons took the radio and responded. "Indeed, we have visual, 
over." 


The voice on the radio, shocked, faltered a bit before continuing. 
"Umm, Administrator, uhh, so as you men can see we've got the 
things pushed back to Sections Eight through Twelve. We've sealed 
them in, but for god knows how long. There's a lot of damage, burn 
and otherwise. That's all. Over." 


Petahn snatched the radio back from Simmons. "Thank you. Keep 
us updated, over." 


Petahn replaced the radio on the panel as Simmons hugged the 
researcher from the side. 


had been affected by SCP-1004 despite never having watched it 
directly, only monitoring the tests through a video feed. Any and all 
indirect viewing of SCP-1004 has been canceled. 


« SCP-1003 | SCP-1004 | SCP-1005 » 


"It's over! Over!" Simmons was smiling but Petahn was still 
emotionless. Simmons rubbed Petahn's hair wildly. 


"Do you want to abort?", asked Simmons. He had noticed Petahn's 
silence and lack of reaction to the partial end of the containment 
breach. 


"No. No." Petahn turned towards Simmons and waved him away. 
"Continue with the procedure. We can't take any more chances." 


Simmons's smile turned into a smirk, then a low frown. 
"Always the dedicated man, huh? Alright." 


Simmons and Petahn unfortunately now had another problem facing 
them. Since they weren't theoretically in a Code Red situation 
anymore, it was impossible for them to activate PLAN-X. They went 
through all of their possible plans: overriding the lock, which could 
take hours; detonating the bomb manually, which could go horribly 
wrong; or creating a Code Red situation, then detonating the bomb. 
Only one option seemed clear to them. 


"Evacuate everyone, open the doors, then blow the fuck out of 
Site-136? Seems like a good plan.", conceded Petahn. 


"Of course." Simmons smiled. 


—~= 


"It's been 22 minutes. You think it's enough time?", Simmons 
hesitantly asked. Petahn was sending all his testing results and 
information to LARPA HQ, Site-121. His testing might have been 
fruitless, but he hoped it would be of some use to his fellow 
scientists. 


We told them not to drive under 60 mph, so estimating at oh, twenty 
minutes they would be around 20 miles away... Petahn's thought 
trailed off as he click-clacked at the keyboard. 


"How big is PLAN-X's package?", Petahn quizzed. 


"2.5 Megatons. They really went all-out for this one." Simmons 


chuckled at his own joke. 


2.5 Megations - that's about 10 miles. | hope. Petahn finished up the 
last of his Foundation Vmail and sent it. 


James Petahn <pcs.noitadnuof| 
jnhatep#pcs.noitadnuof|jnhatep> 

to: Joe Fynegan <pcs.noitadnuof| 
jnagenyf#pcs.noitadnuof|jnagenyf> 

date: Monday, July 25, 2022 at 11:31 AM 
subject: TESTING INFORMATION 


Joe, 
| don't have a lot of time, especially not to 


explain. You'll undoubtedly get the news 
soon. | promise you it was for the best. Say 
hello to Sherry for me, and tell her I'm going 
to have to cancel that movie. 

- James 


» SCP-3916.page 
» SCP-3619.log 
» SCP-3619 (2).log 


Petahn smiled, then kicked in the terminal. He'd always just wanted 
to do that. He turned towards a reclining Simmons. 


"What do you think the O5s are going to do?", the former asked. 
"Huh?" 


"Nevermind. Anyway, the staff will be alright Simmons, now just help 
me..." 


A sharp, shrill voice filled the air. "WARNING! G4 through G8 Fire 
Doors breached! G4 through G8 Fire Doors breached! All personnel 
evacuate!" 


Petahn just stood there. Simmons just stood there. They couldn't 
believe their ears, nor their minds. 


"That's im-impossible. Those doors were reinforced with glass. 
Glass!", Petahn yelled. 


"Then we have no time! Let's hurry it the fuck up!", yelled back 
Simmons. 


The two men ran to the PLAN-X panel. Two orifices were glowing 
red, one on either side. The men inserted their keys. 


"On the count of three! Ready?" 
Petahn nodded. Simmons gulped. 
"One!" 

"Two!" 

"Three!" 


The men turned their keys, as a red switch popped up in the panel. 
An unholy cacophony of buzzing could be heard in the hallway 
behind them. Simmons pointed at the switch as Petahn fumbled 
towards it.