Red flashed in the air. Jack caught the amulet, not bothering to 
question how or why. 


Exactly three steps later an obsidian throwing spear impaled Jack 
through the gut. His body dropped to the floor, amulet firmly grasped 
in his fist. Ukulele stopped backpedalling, shook his fishbowl, and 
snapped the mint tin shut. 


“Now why would you do that? Look at those shoes he was wearing. 
Those were nice shoes. Now they don’t have nice feet to fill them. 
Think of the shoes, Able.” 


Able, now standing twenty feet or so away from Ukulele, grunted. A 
sizeable chunk of his chest had been torn open enough to see 
through to the other side. His breathing was a mix of a one-lunged 
wheeze and the gargle of a man choking on his own blood. 


He stood where he was. No tensing of the body to leap, no weapon 
in his hand. He just stood there. 


“Trezae shanis shanar, chy. Avskani?” he croaked. 

Ukulele stroked the fringe of tentacles at his chin. 

“Nope. Nope nope nope, I’m no good at canasta, so that’s right out." 
"Xadr, chy. Zepiniki ca... 

Ukulele held up a hand. 


"Shshshshshhhhhnh. I've heard enough. While you make some fine 
points, | think | should warn you that | am terribly clumsy, and so 


chainsaw juggling would just end up awful for everyone involved." 
Ukulele closed the gap. Able continued to do nothing but watch. 


"This is a stumper, to be sure. Can't find a good hobby. Makin' me 
bummed, dude." He spread his arms. "Hug?" 


With that, he hit the detonator for the claymore mine strapped to his 
chest. 


"He blew himself up for fun. For fun, Ben. Something needs to be 
done here. He's getting more unstable." 


"Are you sure you're not overreacting, Sophia? So he blew himself 
up. He can regenerate. He's also designed to have insanity and 
murder to be his only two character traits." 


"| trust my gut more than Adam at this point." 


"Okay, you tell me. What are we going to do to take down the 
Chesire Cat and Mad Hatter's LSD-fueled lovechild? Without getting 
ourselves slaughtered in a matter of seconds." 


"Not by ourselves. We have enough items to work with. We might 
stand a chance if we go about this with our heads on straight." 


"What, kill, capture, lock him up?" 
"Just something. Something's going to go wrong, | know it." 


Date: 9/25/97 

To: Site 19 Senior Staff 

From: Dr. Adam Pathos Crow 
Subject: The state of Dr. Bright. 


Dear friends: 


As many of you have heard, Dr. Bright was reported as killed during 


a containment breach at our Coalition sister facility on the 21st. | am 
happy to announce that this is not true: Dr. Bright was found alive by 
Coalition recovery agents amidst the wreckage this morning, shaken 
but overall unharmed. 


Dr. Bright’s condition is still sensitive due to exposure to anomalous 
items of unknown properties during the breach. However, | hope to 
have him back among us as soon as the situation permits it. 


In sincerity, 


-Adam 


September 30, 1997 


Dr. Glass scanned over his clipboard one more time. Yes, the photo 
he had was that of Dr. Jack Bright: male, mid-thirties, untrimmed 
brown hair, beard, a general appearance of scruffy un-washed-ness 
and a scowl. 


The person sitting on the other side of his desk was none of those 
things, save the scowl: female, late twenties, decent tan, short 
lightish hair, scar on the left cheek. Her arms were crossed ina 
sullen expression of resentment, identical to Jack’s common poise 
and positioning. An amulet centered with a sizeable ruby hung from 
a gold chain around her neck. According to the paperwork he had 
been given, this was Steffi Fuchs, a field agent of the Global Occult 
Coalition of middling achievement. 


Dr. Glass sighed and opened up his yellow legal pad to a fresh 
page. Something told him that he’d be taking a lot of notes. 


“Okay, Jack, let’s start at the beginning. What were you doing when 
you became a woman?" 


Iteration F 


You are currently viewing Additional Document, Iteration F 

of the documentation for this entity. This article isn't contained 

with the rest because it's sinful. This entry also contains many 
themes that are not safe for work. 


Keith's heart pounded with anticipation as he sat at the edge of the 
hotel bed. It's been a long and fulfilling night, but not quite over yet. 
He could hear Buck humming to himself in the shower, and 
imagined a shimmering wet Buck glistening under the hazy steam 
that enveloped his beautiful body. 


The sound of water and humming came to an abrupt stop. 


"Document type?" Keith heard Buck call out, his voice booming 
through the thin bathroom door. 


"Request for addendum addition," Keith replied. "Target SCP?" 


"SCP-1893," Buck said, as he opened the door with a towel around 
his waist, his body slightly steaming, water dripping from his tail and 
his horns. Keith stood up, his tail flickering with excitement. Keith 
always loved how this mountain of a man has such cute and short 
horns, unlike others that he has encountered. 


"Addendum type?" Keith asked, as the two embraced. Keith leaned 
against the sturdy chest of his lover, feeling his every breath as he 
waited for Buck to reply. 


Buck leaned down and whispered in Keith's ear in a low and 
seductive voice. 


"Incident log." 


Keith can barely contain his excitement as his hands slowly traveled 
down to Buck's muscular buttocks. Keith whispered back, 


"Addendum summary?" 


"It is believed that during a routine system backup and file transfer, a 
mention of SCP-1893 was found within secondary material for 
Protocol Desert Grassroots for SCP-2547. This is believed to be a 
result of human clerical error; however, the possibility of a deliberate 
containment breach on the behalf of SCP-1893 has not been ruled 
out," Buck said, looking down as he stroked the soft fur on Keith's 
back and gently massaged his fluffy neck. "However, due to the 
nature of SCP-2547, many new previously-unknown effects of 
SCP-1893 has come to light. SCP-2547-1, whose existence is 
contingent upon the creation of new narratives, seem to have 
shared similar anomalous qualities with the entity known as 
SCP-1893. " 


The lovers broke their embrace. As Keith turned towards the bed, 
Buck asked in a low voice, "Incident description?" 


Keith turned around and took off his bathrobe slowly. "This cross- 
contamination of information-based anomalies is believed to be a 
result of human error. While very little is known about the origins and 
source of SCP-1893, it is unknown whether this is a deliberate 
breach on part of SCP-1893. All evidence points to SCP-1893 being 
non-sentient and incapable of altering anything other than its own 
narrative existence, and thus unable to breach containment on its 
own accord. " 


Buck snorted in indignation; Keith could tell from his body language 
that he was holding something back, he did not want to get into an 
argument. Not tonight, at least. It's been so long since he had a 
companion. 


Keith threw his robe towards a chair, but it fell to the ground with a 
rather unattractive flump. As he laid on the bed, Keith's heart 
pounded faster as he looked at the tower of a man in front of him: 
his sculpted chest, his well-toned abs, his sturdy, thick arms. 


With a faint playful smile, Buck removed his towel and threw it next 
to the discarded bathrobes, revealing a pair of luscious balls and a 
glistening penis the size of a baseball bat. Buck turned around, and 
picked up a bottle of lube that has been sitting next to the television 


since last night. 


"The newly created narratives between SCP-1893 and SCP-2547, 
narratives collectively now named Chalmers narratives, displayed 
many new previously unknown effects of both anomalies," Buck 
said, as he applied lube liberally on his penis. "As with other 
narratives in the original SCP-1893 file, any electronic message will 
be altered by the entity into a prose passage of variable length, tone, 
or content with certain constant qualities." 


Keith whimpered slightly as Buck pulled on his tail rather roughly, 
and felt a gentle finger, cold and slippery, massage his private spot. 
Buck began to speak as he prepared his lover. 


"One key difference in the Chalmers narratives is the role of 
SCP-1893. In original SCP-1893 narratives, the entity commonly 
present in SCP-1893 does not always take on an important role; 
depending on the "mood" of the entity, it may be highly violent and 
central, or merely exist in the background. In the Chalmers 
narratives, it almost always takes on a principle role, and in many 
cases is directly involved with actions in the plot. " Keith is almost 
unable to speak, his breath growing heavy. 


Almost involuntarily, Keith began stroking himself, feeling a wave of 
excitement build up in him. Buck continued, "Another key difference 
is the appearance of the SCP-1893 entity - while in previous 
narratives, the entity is described as a large, muscular man with 
horns tattooed on his forehead, the entity in Chalmers narratives 
now instead displays prominent bovine horns of indeterminate size. 
Other more prominent bovine characters are sometimes described; 
however, it is noted that the size of the bovine horns seem to have a 
positive correlation to the degree of sexual content present - 
meaning that the larger the horns, the more sexual an entry is. " 


Keith let out a satisfying moan, as he felt Buck's rough fingers gently 
inside of him. He was trembling slightly from being on all fours on 
the bed for so long. 


Buck spoke in a low voice, ignoring the noises that Keith is making. 
"A third key difference in Chalmers narratives is the appearance of a 
second character that is also takes on a principle role on equal 


footing of SCP-1893-1. It is believed that this character is a 
manifestation of SCP-2547-1, with several similarities - the entity is 
always described as good looking or other similar descriptions, and 
often described as having fur or excessive body hair. The entity may 
hold canine characteristics such as tails and paws, but sometimes 
may also be fully human." 


Keith grunted as a sudden chill shot through his body. 


"One last characteristic is that while the name given to SCP-1893 
may vary, the SCP-2547 entities are always given a name that 


begins with a hard K sound, as in ‘coyote’. 


Buck grinned, and murmured in a slow and sultry voice, knowing 
that Keith loves it when he does this. "Chalmers narratives only 
occur if SCP-1893 is mentioned in conjunction with SCP-2547; it 
does not seem to be a widespread effect, and has not affected other 
passages. Of note is that in subsequent interviews, SCP-2547-1 
does not seem be aware of the existence of Chalmers narratives, or 
is unwilling to share its knowledge of this event." 


Buck stopped, allowing Keith to catch his breath. Keith knows what 
is coming next, almost unable to hold in his excitement. Keith closed 
his eyes, feeling two strong arms grab onto his butt, and the head of 
Buck's gigantic penis pushing against his tender anus. Keith winced 
slightly as he felt Buck slide inside of him. 


"Conclusion?" 


Keith, ignoring the pain, attempted a reply to his lover, as Buck's 
grip on Keith tightened. 


"Comparatively to the original narratives, Chalmers narratives are 
less violent, but are usually highly affectionate in nature - it is 
believed that the presence of the SCP-2547 entity is affecting the 
‘mood’ of SCP-1893, " Keith said, after finally catching his breath. He 
closed his eyes as he felt the climax approaching. "The Chalmers 
narratives range from relatively benign and platonic, to highly 
deviant and vivid descriptions of sexual deviancy and fetishes. It is 
noted that all of these Chalmers narratives lack the presence of any 
female characters, and are almost always highly homosexual in 


nature." 


Buck picked up his pace, inviting Keith to continue. Their eyes met, 
knowing that the climax would come soon. 


"After the revelations of the Chalmers narratives, it is now believed 
that SCP-1893 may be able to affect other forms of narratives and 
documents,” Keith quickly rattled off, his speech speeding up along 
with Buck's pounding. "While permission for cross-testing is still 
pending, it is believed that this is definitive proof that previously 
hypothesized methods of termination may be viable, mainly 
because- " 


Buck bellowed a low guttural roar as he came inside of Keith, who 
let out a satisfied scream as he came as well, staining the hotel 
bedsheets. Collapsing against the bed, with his brain swimming and 
satisfied, Keith smiled faintly as Buck's breath slowed, feeling him 
spill his seed deep inside him. Buck leaned down and kissed Keith 
as they laid on the now messy bed, curling up against each other as 
they drifted to sleep. 


Iterations 


| am Masahiro Goto, formerly SCP-2265-A. Five years ago | was 
released from a twenty year time loop. | need not elaborate further; 
the Foundation gave me a (heavily censored) copy of my 
documentation at my release, but | am prohibited from discussing it 
with anyone. But | digress. 


| have watched many new movies and television shows since | was 
released. One which my supervising agent recommend to me, 
Groundhog Day, rings true to me. | did some further reading, and 
found out that someone calculated Bill Murray's character spends 30 
years in the loop. | do not know how long | spent there exactly (nor 
do | care to count), but 20 years is a lot of time. | should write down 
my memories, so | may yet learn from fate's choice for me. 


First, there was the changes. Well, not quite first - after shock, panic, 
despair, and resigned acceptance, then came the changes. | found | 
could manipulate the waiter's hand in the brief moment he noticed 
us. Calling for help became disappointing, then repetitive, then dull. | 
found the best was to convince Andrew to play a game with me: | 
was a mute, and | wrote down my order. | did eventually get tired of 
the entire menu, but | am thankful | had an empty stomach that day. 


Whatever put me in there made it so Andrew would not know we 
were trapped unless | informed him advertently or otherwise (| know 
this because Andrew's small bladder would have caused him to stir 
a dozen times were it not for supernatural intervention). Andrew 
was, and still is, a fascinating man. Here are some things | learned. 


| learned to read people. Not in the psychic sense, of course, but in 
the sense of expression. Growing up, | always had a difficult time 
learning expressions - not helped by the fact that my people are 
stoic by nature. | found only in animation could | clearly read 
exaggerated expressions. 


With Andrew, | learned his many "tells". He would adjust his collar if 


something.) 
Interviewer: Hear what? 
SCP-887: What? 


Interviewer: You were lying down and could not move, 
and then you started hearing something? 


SCP-887: Oh! Yes. The voices. They told me things. All 
the time. 


Interviewer: All the time? 


SCP-887: Until | wake, yes? (searches clothes again) Do 
you have a pencil, a pen? | need to write something | 
remembered. 


Interviewer: |n a moment, sir. What did these voices tell 
you? 


SCP-887: Oh, many things. Important things, yes? | 
have been trying to remember them. (tentatively 
scratches table with nails, then with more strength) 


Interviewer: Sir, please calm down. 


SCP-887: No, no, | have to write this down. Can't forget 
it. No. (Subject's nails bleed a bit, subject attempts to 
write letters on the table with the blood) 


Interviewer: Why? What will happen if you don't write it 
down? 


SCP-887: (Looks at interviewer panicked, then starts 
tearing his fingers against the table and walls) 


<End Log> 
Addendum 


A description at length of SCP-887's output that has been decoded