Just another day at Site-19. "Well damn, that's five bucks down the 
drain," Magnus said, as the two approached the office door to 
ZebraHan's lab complex, and turned the knob. Inside, behind a two 
way mirrored door, a biped stood behind a plexiglass screen, which 
contained a small watering hole and a well placed hole which it was 
too dumb to even use properly. "I call this one Doofus. She's 
unintelligible of course, but | think I've got the rudiments of 
communication in to her. She responds to basic commands at least. 
At least, | think it's a she. | can barely tell these bipeds apart. Come 
on, | want to show you something." 


On the other side of the plexiglass, Researcher Lister wasn't quite 
sure how she'd gotten here. She remembered going to sleep last 
night at Site-27, and then waking up here in this...cell? On the other 
side, for the last two days, zebras had been coming in and out of 
what appeared to be a standard Foundation laboratory enclosure. 


The knob on the door rotated, and two zebras walked in to the 
enclosure. They both had machetes strapped to their heads, one 
with duct tape, the other with what looked like police tape. The larger 
of the two approached the plexiglass, and tapped on it with the 
machete on its head. The gold monacle on its left eye jittered with 
each impact. 


The zebra let out a series of equine noises, as they all had, and 
Emma lifted her hands in a gesture of confusion. "| have no idea 
what you're saying. If you're trying to say anything. My name is 
Emma Lister, and | demand to know what the hell is going on!" 


Researcher ZebraHan shook his head, and looked at Dr. Magnus. 
"Like | said, most of it is gibberish, but | think | can get them to 
recognize simple commands." He picked up a clipboard, and wrote 
down several simple instructions, with his beautiful horn. 


Researcher Lister watched curiously, as the zebra with the machete 


strapped down with duct tape swung its head down against what 
looked like an oversize clipboard, slamming the blade in to the 
wood, and making a significant mess of the object. 


"Now. We'll just hold this up to the enclosure, and hope it 
remembers simple Zebrish." Researcher ZebraHan held the 
clipboard up against the plexiglass, and looked at the biped 
expectantly. 


"Wait. What the hell, how are you holding that, it's just—" She 
started, before Researcher ZebraHan started slamming his horn 
against the plexiglass. 


"IT SAYS BE SILENT, PRIMITIVE BIPED, READ DAMMIT, READ!" 
He shouted clear as a bell, and with authority, slamming his horn for 
effect against the bipeds enclosure. 


Emma was paralyzed, fearing for her life as this creature went 
ballistic in front of her. She stood stock still trying not to provoke any 
more violent actions. A bead of sweat rolled down from her 
forehead, and was absorbed by the labcoat which had grown 
steadily more dingy over the past couple days. 


The zebra with the duct tape did this every few hours for the past 
two days. Standing still appeared to placate the creature, and she 
wondered how long this would go on for. Her transponder only had a 
few more days of battery life. Surely the Foundation would rescue 
her? 


"Aha! See! All it takes is intention! | can reliably get the biped to 
react as we wish. There's hope for it yet, now we just have to try and 
get it to realize that we're trying to communicate. | think they've got 
the brain capacity of at least a pangolin. There's hope yet." 
Researcher ZebraHan beamed with pride, as he set down the 
clipboard on the table. He ran his horn against the stone on the wall 
to sharpen the edge after the study. 


"Absolutely brilliant, ZebraHan. | think you've got a real future in 
biped studies, though I'm not sure a pangolin would like to be 
favorably compared to a biped. What does this all have to do with 
Dr. Bright's request though?" Dr. Magnus opened the door, and the 


two Unicorns strode away from the specimen, as it continued to hoot 
out its mating calls or whatever it was saying. 


"Ahh, yes. We figure if we can get them to be more communicative, 
we might be able to contain SCP-682 for more than a few seconds. 
Right now we're just throwing H-class at it, when it gets hungry." 
ZebraHan removed the monacle from his left eye, polishing it with a 
quick wipe against his chest. 


Dr. Magnus cocked his head, "Which one is 682 again?" He 
gestured with his head towards the cafeteria. "Let's grab coffee." 


Researcher ZebraHan nodded, eyeing a particularly finely shaped 
filly with an MY Parang Duku Chandong stuck in the exact middle of 
her forehead with a glob of carpet cement. "Hard to destroy lion. It's 
the one covered in trebuchets." 


"Damn trebuchets. Wonderfully effective weapons, shame they fell 
out of fashion for the damnable catapaults. A more elegant weapon, 
for a more civilized age, I've always said," Dr. Magnus raised his 
muzzle in a diffident sniff. 


"You only say that because you're a moderator of /r/ 
trebuchetmemes, Magnus," ZebraHan said with a snort, as they 
entered the line for coffee. 


"That's got nothing to do with it. Now, lift your tail, its our turn." The 
coffee enema station was blessedly not busy this time of day, as the 
two researchers stepped up to their turn. 


Units 


Dr. Severe rubbed his eyes as he paged in the next employee. This 
would be the nineteenth individual he had talked to about the 
incident. 


Eleven casualties, twice as many injuries, and nine hundred million 
U.S. dollars in damage. And still no one could tell him why the hell 
SCP-6017 had managed to breach containment. He had spoken 
with agents, researchers, engineers, technicians, even the janitor, 
and not a single person could give an explanation as to why a ten- 
thousand year old lightning creature was able to get past the electric 
field built specifically to keep its unique abilities on lockdown. 


What perplexed Dr. Severe was that, as far as he could tell, no 
systems had failed. The wiring in the electric field was unblemished, 
the power-plant that supplied it was in proper working order, all the 
cooling stations were functioning perfectly. Everything appeared to 
have been operating well within parameters when SCP-6017 got 
out. Normally he would assume the containment procedures 
themselves were at fault. This clearly wasn't the case, however, 
since 6017 had been successfully contained for years using the 
system in place, and had remained contained since its re-capture. 


Dr. Severe sighed and rose as the next interviewee arrived and 
introduced himself as Jonathan Blake. Dr. Severe quickly scanned 
through his personnel profile: 24 year old Caucasian male, ex-army 
infantry, class-1 technician, with the Foundation for four months, first 
Keter assignment. Dr. Severe raised an eyebrow, noting that it had 
been Blake's first day assigned to 6017 when it breached 
containment. 


"Please have a seat," Dr. Severe instructed Blake as he sat down 
himself. 


"Yes sir, thank you sir," Blake replied nervously as he sat down 
stiffly into the chair opposite Dr. Severe's desk. 


"Relax Blake, this isn't the military and you aren't in trouble. I'm just 
trying to figure out what in the hell happened to let 6017 out of its 
cage. Now, just run through what happened that day, starting from 
when you came into work." 


"Yes, sir, will do, sir." Blake began. "I arrived at oh-eight-hundred 
hours to my post and checked the temperature gauges to make sure 
everything was working properly. Then I..." 


"Was it?" Dr. Severe interrupted him. 
"Was...what?" Blake replied with a stammer. 
"Was everything working properly?" Dr. Severe replied tersely. 


"Y...yes, sir. All readings were correct. Sir. All temperatures read 
below four-point-one kelvin. Sir." 


"Good. Please continue." Dr. Severe had been expecting this 
answer, as it had already been confirmed by two other technicians. 


"Well, | returned to the monitoring station and noticed power station 
C was running a bit hot, so | went to activate backup station L, 
standard procedure." 


Dr. Severe nodded and motioned for him to continue. The power 
stations overheated regularly, so each one had a backup station to 
switch to, allowing the primary stations time to cool down. 


"Once backup station L came on, | switched off station C and then 
waited at my post. About 15 minutes later, 6017 escaped." 


"Breached containment," Dr. Severe corrected him absentmindedly. 
"Was there anything anomalous about backup station L? Any 
evident damage, strange readings, anything?" 


"Not that | saw sir. Everything was working correctly, current running 
at three milliamps on the nose, voltage read at..." 


"Wait, what?" Dr. Severe interjected. "Did you just say three 
milliamps?" 


"Yes sir, | set it to three milliamps, just as the instructions on the 
power station said," replied Blake, confused. 


With a dawning horror, Dr. Severe quickly pulled out a piece of 
paper and wrote "5 km" on it, then showed it to Blake. 


"What does this say?" he demanded. 

"Umm, that is five kilometers, sir," Blake replied, still confused. 
He wrote down another number, this time "12 nm." 

"And this one?" 

"Twelve nanometers, sir." 

Finally, he wrote "1 Mm," then held it out to Blake. 


"That would be one millimeter, sir." Blake looked up at Dr. Severe 
with a questioning look, perplexed by the strange game. 


Dr. Severe spent a few seconds trying to fight down the urge to take 
off his hard hat and beat Blake with it, until finally replying, "No. No 
Blake, that is not one millimeter. One millimeter is equal to zero- 
point-zero-zero-one meters. The number you just read is one 
megameter, equal to one million meters." 


Realization dawned on Blake's face. "I... don't....I'm sorry sir, | 
didn't think the capital letter mattered. Do....do you think the mistake 
could be connected to SCP-6017 esca....breaching containment?" 


It was the wrong question to ask. "Do | think it could be connected, 
Blake? Do | think there might be some relation? You sent a current 
to the containment field nine orders of magnitude below the level 
required to keep SCP-6017 under control! Tell me, do you think 
there is a connection there?!" 


Before he could answer, Dr. Severe cut him off. "No. Don't. Just... 
get out. | will figure out what to do with you later." 


As Jonathan Blake left, his shoulders slumped, Dr. Severe let out a 
sigh. Nine hundred million dollars and eleven lives, all because 


SCP-984: A Public Restroom 


Item #: SCP-984 
Object Class: Safe-impetus 


Special Containment Procedures: The facility where SCP-984 is 
located (hereby Site-48) is currently under the auspices of 
Company, a Foundation shell corporation. The door to SCP-984 is 
to remain externally locked at all times except during 
experimentation, as are all stalls in SCP-984. Only Class-D 
personnel may enter SCP-984 without protective armor and a 
firearm. 


No less than three Level-O0 medical personnel are to be stationed at 
Site-48 at all times. Should SCP-984 become activated for any 
reason, these personnel must be called to SCP-984 to provide 
medical attention to any persons exiting SCP-984. 


Description: SCP-984 is a restroom located in [REDACTED]. Upon 
recovery, three light bulbs were found smashed. 


Under normal circumstances, SCP-984 is only unusual in that it has 
been partially soundproofed with commercially available materials. 
SCP-984 will only display overtly anomalous properties under the 
following conditions: 


¢ No persons are in any open areas of SCP-984. 

¢ Exactly one stall in SCP-984 is occupied by exactly one 
person. The door to said stall must be closed and locked. 

¢ At least one light fixture in SCP-984 is nonfunctional or off. 


Should the above conditions be met at any time, one or more 
instances of SCP-984-1 will materialize inside SCP-984 once a 
person exits a stall. Soecimens of SCP-984-1 tend to be large, 
highly aggressive mammals of varying species.! All SCP-984-1 
specimens disappear nine minutes after manifestation. SCP-984-1 


someone got their units wrong. "NASA," Dr. Severe muttered under 
his breath, "you guys got off light." 


Unknown Log File 


Special Containment Center 23 Terminal 


Welcome, please enter user ID. 
>ethaum 

Please enter password. 

> 


Password Accepted. 
Loading. 
Clearance validated. 


Welcome, Commander Thaum. Please enter an action. 
>SCP #176 
Number recognized. Loading. 


Item: SCP, #176. 
Approximate image of object loading. 


Loaded. 


Special containment procedures: Item #176 is classified 
as a Keter-level object. Statue is contained in lead room 
#2, following protocol regarding Keter-level objects. 
WARNING: PRIMARY PERSONNEL ARE NOT 
ALLOWED TO INTERACT WITH STAFF DESIGNATED 
TO MONITOR KETER-LEVEL OBJECTS. 

Object was located in desert outside Bolson de Mapimi, 
1970. Class A recovery was approved and carried out. 
Suppressed local exchange of relevant information. For 
a full stat 

>N 

ltem #176's physical makeup cannot be ascertained, any 
contact by educated personnel is forbidden by protocol. 
Object stationary. Reports of emitting a slight hum. 
Object produces an unknown energy wavelength that 
must be discharged once per day. Discharging is 
handled by CLASS D REPRESENTATIVES ONLY. 

>P 

>search Class D 

Loading 


SCP Protocol: Class D Personnel 
Loaded 


Class D personnel are designated staff used to handle 
the Keter-level objects. Class D staff are sequestered on 
the Keter floor, bottom basement. 

WARNING: CLASS D PERSONNEL ARE NOT 
ALLOWED TO INTERACT WITH CLASS D 
PERSONNEL ASSIGNED TO A DIFFERENT OBJECT 


OR SCP PERSONNEL. 

Class D personnel are recruited from prison inmates. 
Condemned persons are preferred, in times of duress, 
Protocol 12 can be authorized, allowing recruitment of 
innocents or persons incarcerated for lesser crimes. 

All Class D personnel must be terminated at the first of 
the month, and a new staff must be ready to replace 
them. After placement in quarters, staff must only contact 
Class D personnel through intercom system. 

All personnel involved with Class D will be given a 
minimum of one (1) polygraph tests at 1800 on a daily 
basis. Failure to comply will result in termination. Failure 
to pass test will result in termination. 

In event of any abnormalities, termination of entire Class 
D personnel is advised, as well as any SCP personnel 
that has had basic interaction. 

>176 


Please specify request. 
>R 176 

Resuming. 

Loading. 


If any change or abnormality in energy wavelengths is 
identified, termination of all personnel is advised. 
Reports from the initial handling of item #176 indicate 
strong psychological effects. Any change in brain wave 
activity is to be reported immediately, and terminated of 
all personnel is advised. 

Documented Psychological effects: 


Inability to speak properly and/or speaking of unknown 


languages. 
Hallucinations. 
Paranoia. 


Documented Physical effects: 


Massive internal hemorrhaging. 
Liquidation of organs. 
Blindness. 

Dramatic weight loss. 

Muscle atrophy. 


Item #176 has been noted to psychologically distort 
Class D personnel as to prevent them from releasing the 
buildup of energy within the chamber. Energy is most 
likely cause of above psychological and physiological 
effects. Item #176 is classified as EXTREMELY 
DANGEROUS. 

Failure to discharge could result in death of all personnel 
in facility. 

>P 


Enter action. 
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Command unrecognized. 


Authorize abnormality containment procedures? 
>Y| 

>Ye 

>Yes|