"There's a security guard here. Runs the detail up at the main 
entrance. He's a great guy. Funny, pretty smart. Basically the kind of 
guy that nearly everyone can get along with. Today, | asked him if 
he wanted to have a few drinks after shift. Unwind, relax. He 
declined politely, saying that he would be abandoning his post. Even 
after | debated with him whether or not he would be abandoning his 
post or not, he still declined. So | gave up and went about my day." 


"At the end of my shift, | was chatting with my superior. | asked her 
about the guard, and she gave me this funny look, then she said:" 


"He's an SCP." 


"Gave me a number, a file and went on her way. | came back here, 
to my quarters and read the file. Turns out he's damn near 1000 
years old. Turns out he can seal out a doorway or gateway 
completely with some form of forcefield. The Foundation found him 
at the last place he was guarding: Some old castle in Scotland." 


"And that got me thinking. How many others are out there. How 
many people who think they are normal, who are living normal lives, 
with this one quirk that bothers them every once in a while are out 
there? How many are harmless? How many are dangerous? How 
many do we know about?" 


"And how many of the dangerous ones know what they can do?" 
Hayes chuckles at this point. 


"Some fucked up world we live in." 


Abject Blue Insomnia 


SCP-3985-7 Vocalization Log (2072) 


JAN 14 - (00:51) Sixteen (suns/sons) 
(01:52) Burning 
(14:11) To see through 


FEB 26 - (12:36) [Unintelligible] 
(15:04) Up above 


APR 02 - (05:05) White showers 
(05:08) White flowers 


JUN 19 - (08:33) Strangle it 
(08:41) Strangle it 


JUL 21 - (19:09) [Unintelligible] 


SEP 08 - (21:48) Dog 
(21:49) Play 
(21:50) Fetch 


You watched me make it, right? Mix the bottles from the top shelf 
with the ones on the bottom. Two to one, remember? Stir it all 
together until white crystals form. 


Dhole toiled in the basement of a forest cabin, stirring great vats and 
sweating over ovens. A long table spanned one side of the room, its 
surface covered in plastic bags, bits of wire, and neat tools. An 
aquarium full of tangible night squirmed on the other side of the 
room, glowing lines of stars tracing twisting paths through it. A radio 
crackled noisily, announcing the electoral victory of some would-be 
prince over another. 


Fill the pouches with it when you're done. Twist the wires around the 
connectors. Don't push too hard, or it might go off early. You've got 
stuff to do before you die. 


She only paused the work long enough to stuff an energy bar into 
her mouth and tie her black hair back. It had become shaggy and 
matted in recent months, but she was too busy to cut it. Sweat 
gathered on her forehead, sliding down through thick eyebrows 
before dripping to the floor. Busy. Numb. That's what she aspired to. 


Get the stuff out of the safe while that settles. It's the same 
combination | used for everything else. You're probably going to 
need it all. 


Giant blue birds stared silently at Dnole as she opened the safe 
hidden under a removable section of the floor. It was full of 
fascinating things: sleek guns, colorful pills, and stacks of plastic 
cards. Egret's voice came out of the bird perched on Dhole's 
shoulder, explaining what each was in vague terms. It was nothing 
she didn't already know. 


We'll have to find where they have the Overseer locked up. Check 
with that girl we met in Pittsburgh. The place with the tower, 
remember? It's not that far. 


The little witch was wide-eyed as Dhole sat down across from her. 
She placed the Overseer's rings on a flat map of the world, and 
stared as they shifted in slow, jittering patterns. They stacked 
themselves over the southern tip of a southern continent, and 
repeated the act on a more detailed map. Dhole swiped one of 
Egret's cards through a flickering device afterward, and it beeped 
happily as money vanished from a nameless account on some 
nameless island. 


Getting in might be tough, even if you were me. Steel doors. Big 
guards. Bigger guns. Dying in a black Site is as easy as breathing if 
you don't know what you're doing. Don't worry though, Dhole. Don't 
pick at your hands like that. Just listen to my plan. 


The bird's beak pushed into her ear, though her mind, and into some 
place even deeper inside. Dhole winced as she listened. Once, 


twice, too many times to count. It was that sort of thing that was 
second nature to Egret. Bloody. Repulsive. It was the kind of thing 
she abhorred, even after everything that had happened. 


"Might some other path be charted? You know | can—" 


No! The birds swelled in numbers, appearing at the edge of her 
vision and flying to every possible perch in the crowded basement. 
Blue feathers filled the air, but the only noise they made was their 
screaming. Nonononononono! Listen to me. Listen to me! Don't 
think about those things! Don't think at all! Listen! Listen! Listen and 
act! Act and don't think! Bite. Bite! Tear their throats out! Maim the 
traitors! The false Overseers. Everyone! 


Had Egret ever spoken like that? It didn't matter. Dhole resolved 
herself to a thoughtless week as she completed her preparations. 
She resolved to being the kind of hound who would snap, snarl, and 
kill. The numbness was almost pleasant, and this way, the plan's 
sting was less than a flea's bite. Her obligations would be met, no 
matter what it cost. 


Dhole walked down the well-lit corridors of a place that did not exist 
on any map. She wore a single-piece uniform, pushed a wide cart 
that reeked of garbage, and went almost entirely unnoticed. Nothing 
this elaborate had been in Egret's original plan, but her hop to her 
homeland and back had not been accurate enough to reach the 
Overseer directly. The bird on her shoulder whispered a new plan 
into her ear as she went, and each chirp seemed oddly pleased. 


She paused to empty a squat trash can into her cart, one of many 
she passed on her twisting route. A bleary-eyed man passed by as 
she shook empty cans and rotting peels into her cart. He did not so 
much as look at her. Dhole waited until he was far away before 
putting an extra package from her cart back into the empty can. 


Sweat ran down Dhole's back as she passed from corridor to 
corridor, emptying each can she saw before loading them again. 
The rings in her pocket vibrated with increasing intensity as she did, 
buzzing louder and louder against each other. The dark mass she 
had stuffed into a duffel bag pushed outward, and it couldn't be 


much longer before whoever was behind the building's many 
cameras noticed its writhing shape. 


The Overseer's jewelry sang as she turned a corner toward a 
passage full of important-looking signs and symbols. They no doubt 
warned her about what the armed guards standing at the far end 
would do to her if she stepped one foot too far. 


Don't be afraid, said a bird, as one of the guards shouted something 
at her. Don't worry about them. Don't worry about yourself. Only 
worry about the Overseer. Dhole glanced down at the neat, white 
containers still stacked inside the cart, shoved it down the hallway 
as hard as she could, and slapped the detonator hidden in her 
pocket. 


Flames bloomed around the cart. The luminous eruption was 
momentarily majestic, but only before a wall of hot air swatted Dhole 
hard enough to send her flying. She bounced like a skipped stone, 
off one wall and again off the floor, before sliding to a slow stop ona 
scratchy carpet. Something like thunder rumbled all around her, and 
the building shook violently. 


Birds swarmed Dhole as she pushed herself to her feet. Her ears 
rang too loudly to hear what they screamed, but she could guess. 
Hurry. Advance. Before the opportunity is lost. She limped down the 
hall, leaning against the wall as she went, stepping over broken 
bodies and through a broken doorway. The rings in her pocket 
shook. The darkness in her bag started dripping out. Dhole could 
barely feel anything, but that wouldn't matter soon. 


The room beyond was full of large metal soheres and leagues of 
heavy tubing. Another crumpled body was sprawled on the floor, 
and a wiry man was desperately trying to hide from her behind a 
toppled desk. Dhole could smell the urine as she approached. Him! 
Ask him! Make him show you! insisted the birds. She did not need to 
be told. 


"Where are the Overseers?" she said flatly. Once, she would have 
once hated the way he stared directly at her face, but it didn't matter 
now. There was no use hiding what she had become behind a 
mask. 


"| don't—" he started to say, pale eyes watering. 
"The Overseers." How did Egret ever get people to do things? 
"They're not here! This isn't that kind of place!" 


Dhole stared blankly at him. A klaxon sounded overhead. Two birds 
alighted on her, one for each shoulder. Violence, squawked one. 
The gun, added the other. Of course. The pistol felt unnaturally 
heavy every time she practiced with it, and drawing it this time was 
no different. 


"Overseer-6. Bring her." 
"| can't!" 


The rings struggled against her pocket toward the nearest metal 
sphere. They spun against each other, clinking furiously, beating an 
irregular rhythm. Their desperation was admirable, but Dhole 
couldn't feel any of it. 


"That one,” she said, gesturing curtly with the pistol. "Open." The 
man seemed almost ready to object until she pointed the gun at him. 
Was it truly that easy? 


The heavy door opened slowly. No light shone out of it, but Dhole 
didn't need to see inside. She could already tell what it held. Water 
splashed around her thighs as she stepped down and waded 
forward, each step quicker and louder than the last. The door 
slammed behind her, but it didn't matter. She had almost done it. 
She was almost done. 


The former Overseer was suspended in the middle of the chamber, 
bound in a harness hanging from the low ceiling. Straps were 
wrapped tight around her, and tight clusters of tubes led to needles 
that pierced her veins. Dhole looked around for Egret, looked for any 
of the birds, but there were none to be found. 


"Overseer?" she said. The noise died quick in the room, and the 
woman barely twitched. "Overseer. Houndmaster. I've brought what 
you asked for. I've brought what you demanded." She twitched 
again. "As you summoned, | came. Overseer, please." Another 


twitch, more violent this time. One by one, Dhole pushed the rings 
onto the woman's long fingers. First a brass one, then silver, then 
brass again. They shook as she removed them from her pocket, and 
were still once they touched flesh. "Please." 


Something banged outside the sphere, and the Overseer gasped. It 
was a Coarse, haggard sound. Rough and dry. "I, I... I!" 


"| brought the other thing too," said Dhole, unzipping her duffel bag. 
Some of its contents had already escaped, but most remained 
inside. She could feel the Overseer's eyes focusing on her, then 
focusing on it. 


"Mine." 


The viscous night sky surged upward. High and thin, it wavered 
slightly, as if somehow indecisive. Several more bangs issues 
outside the metal walls, and shouting accompanied them. The starry 
edifice tipped forward, trembled, and rushed into the Overseer's 
chest. She screamed. Dhole screamed. Outside, someone else 
screamed. The process barely lasted a second, and utter darkness 
returned by the time it was done. 


"Dhole?" rasped the Overseer. "My hand. Take my hand." 


The chamber's door slammed open as she grasped the woman's 
clammy fingers. Gunshots echoed off the walls louder than her voice 
had, and something inside her squished, snapped, and burst. A vast 
wave of pain overwhelmed everything else, crushing her senses and 
drowning her thoughts. Wildfire burned through her nerves. All of 
them. She was consumed, engulfed, and then the world was 
stripped away. 


Dhole floated in nothingness. It was not a nothingness of the mind, 
she felt too cognizant for that. It did not seem the nothingness of 
death either. It hurt too much. Making tiny movements, she rotated 
herself, turning to face the Overseer hovering before her. 


"You did well," said the woman. She was newly clad in a simple 
black dress, and newly radiated power. It hurt to look into her starry 


eyes. "I did my best to fix you, but that was never my specialty." 
"| live, regardless." 


"For now," agreed the Overseer. The nothingness receded, and 
Dhole found herself lying on a cot in a sterile, white room. Unfairly, 
the pain remained. 


"| fulfilled my contract. | reached and grasped it. I'm... | did it." She 
pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes and groaned. "I did it." 


"You've done more than | could have expected. There's more to do 
though, Dhole. | can't harbor this inside forever. The council needs 
to be put right. It needs to be fixed, so | can have a place on it." 


Dhole breathed as deeply as she dared and rolled up to a sitting 
position. The great walls of numbness she had erected in herself 
were shattered. Her fortifications were broken. She breathed again, 
and more things hurt than just her body. 


"lam not sufficient," she finally said. "There are people better suited. 
People better able. Fetch a champion. Create one, if you must. | 
cannot, not again. | will not, not this time." She babbled on as she 
looked into the Overseer's eyes. Even when full of starlight, they 
were cold, dim, dead. 


"| know," she said, reaching out to gently pet Dhole's matted hair. 
The touch was almost comforting, until she noticed the nothingness 
creeping around her feet, crawling up her legs, surging through her. 
"I'll return this to you, when | can." 


The nothingness was more complete this time, and much closer to 
death. 


Erin Ahmadi, once and future Overseer-6, watched her underling 
sleep. Slow breaths, slow pulse, but everything seemed to have 

gone right. It was the first time she had attempted this particular 

piece of thaumaturgy, but there was no time to practice first. The 
slug inside her was already demanding more than she wished to 
give. 


SCP-778: Paradise Falls 


Item #: SCP-778 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-778 is particularly 
dangerous in that it is immobile and centered in [DATA EXPUNGED] 
National Park, which is frequented by civilians. Signs or public 
documents displaying maps of or mentioning the existence of 
SCP-778 are to be erased, destroyed, or rewritten as necessary. 
Public awareness of SCP-778 must be avoided as much as 
possible. Placing signs over the trailhead marking it as "closed" and 
"dangerous" has been found effective and is to remain in place. Two 
undercover agents are to be located within the park at all times to 
monitor civilian access to or awareness of SCP-778. These 
measures should be effective in deterring civilians from contact with 
SCP-778. 


Description: SCP-778 is an area of land of undetermined size 
located in [REDACTED] National Park. SCP-778 is currently defined 
on all maps, signs, and other media representing it as a hiking trail 
leading to a destination known as "Paradise Falls". Whether 
"Paradise Falls" exists is currently unknown and perhaps 
unknowable. 


SCP-778 is constructed normally for trails in the area, and is labeled 
normally at the trailhead and at irregular intervals along its length. 
None of this is anomalous for trails in the area. However, SCP-778 
is extremely topographically inconsistent and easily dangerous to 
civilians. Instead of leading to "Paradise Falls", SCP-778 will instead 
lead to other areas of the park or on winding, inconsistent paths 
around the area. SCP-778 is generally located in only one area of 
the park, although it varies from exploration to exploration.