D-7820: Think about it. | put shit on top of my 
backpack and it becomes a chair for that stuff. 
Right? So then it becomes a chair and the 
chair shows up in the gallery because it's a 
chair and that's what chairs do. That's what 
they say, anyway. 


Control: 'They'? 


D-7820: The chairs. | mean, | know they can't 
talk, but | can feel their presence and it is 
palpable. Tangible. The air is thick with it. 


Control: With chair? 
D-7820: ...Yes. 


Subject walks in silence for the next six hours, 
pausing occasionally to look behind him. 
Setting up camp at the 300km point, D-7820 is 
seen attempting to rest again, using their coat 
as a makeshift blanket. 


Some time during the next few hours, subject 
is awakened by the sound of large thuds and 
scrapes, growing in volume. Subject forgets to 
reattach camera to shoulder mount, which is 
facing slightly askew. The source of the noises 
are not identified, but appear to ram into 
D-7820, who is taken by surprise and seen 
hitting the concrete with significant force. They 
appear dazed and likely suffering from a 
concussion. They look up, past the view of the 
camera. 


D-7820: Fucking do it, you four-legged- 


The camera feed jostles and is lost due to 
unknown reasons and contact with D-7820 is 


not reestablished. 
+ ACCESS EXPL-3311-C.log 
Exploration Log 3311-C 


Notes: In order to test the far limits of 
SCP-3311 in a safe and efficient manner, 
Exploration 3311-C was conducted with a 
small battery-powered drone capable at 
travelling at soeeds of up to 35 km/hr. Drone 
was equipped with a device that would 
automatically place relays every 10km past the 
current range of 313km. 


Incursion into SCP-3311 was uneventful, the 
drone passing the point where D-7820 had 
removed a chair from its compartment. The 
instance of SCP-3311-1 was seen now back in 
its respective place, the glass still broken and 
missing from the door to its container. 


Drone is directed into SCP-3311 for the next 
several hours until it reaches the 200km point. 
No foreign chairs or changes in layout are 
observed. Air samples are taken and proven to 
be identical to the quality just inside 
SCP-3311. 


Continuing to the 300km point, the remains of 
D-7820's effects are found. The camera 
appears crushed by great force, the remainder 
of the objects strewn about. No sign of subject 
is seen. 


Drone begins placing relays and drives without 
incident. At 3880km, SCP-3311-1 instances 
appear to vary greatly in size and shape. The 
drone passes by a large throne etched into 
luminous, purple crystal and continues further 


inside. 


Two hours later, the drone picks up the sound 
of tapping. Investigating, the drone is piloted to 
a compartment featuring a small, ambulatory 
chair less than 15cm high. It gallops around its 
container and raps on the glass with a tiny, 
birch leg. 


After a few minutes, the drone is turned back 
on course. Further down, a compartment is 
seen with condensation growing on the 
interior. The drone records a mass of 
biological tissue in the rough shape of a bar 
stool, which pulsates intermittently but does 
not exhibit any other behavior. 'FLOOR 
MODEL ' is seen carved into the base. 


The drone is piloted for another hour, passing 
the 400km point. The feedback experiences 
interference, the buzzing noise returning. 
Sounds of scraping can be heard somewhere 
ahead. 


Half an hour later, the drone stops at a 
compartment which is completely overgrown 
and obscured by moss. The container next to it 
contained a three-legged stool with only one 
leg, somehow supporting itself despite its 
condition. 


Three hours pass without incident. Various 
thuds and scrapes can be heard, although no 
source is detected. At approximately 485km 
into the anomaly, the drone happens upon a 
compartment containing the remains of 
D-7820, which has been contorted into the 
shape of a chair. His spine is bent at a perfect 
90° angle halfway down, forming a seat. 
Ankles and wrists appear to have been rotated 
280° outward and seem locked in place. The 


phrase 'FLOOR MODEL ' is carved into his 
ankle. D-7820's eyes are wide open, although 
he does not appear to be alive. 


After a few minutes, the drone continues on. 
SCP-3311-1 instances begin to look abstract 
and impossible for human sitting at the 500km 
mark, returning to normal on occasion and 
without apparent order. A few possess parts of 
other chairs integrated seamlessly into their 
construction. The drone passes a love seat 
that appears two-dimensional and a container 
bearing a single, floating cushion. 0.53 USD is 
seen stuck to the underside of the cushion as 
the drone is piloted by. 


The machine continues undeterred for another 
hour, after which it encounters a group of 
seven ordinary-looking dinner chairs, 
organized in a circle in the middle of the path. 
The drone is piloted carefully around the 
chairs. Turning back to focus its camera on the 
circle, the nearest chair slowly turns and faces 
the drone, which is piloted away. 


Passing 500km from starting point, the drone 
records empty containers that have been 
broken from the inside. Glass litters the path, 
and scraping noises are heard almost 
constantly. The drone picks up movement 
which turns out to be a single chair scratching 
its leg into the ground. It scampers away as 
the drone approaches what appears to be a 
series of rudimentary pictographs depicting a 
number of stick figure chairs. The first drawing 
shows the chairs with a line over each, the 
second shows the lines coming together to 
form another chair. 


Drone continues onward until the 525km mark, 
where it begins to pick up large amounts of 


SCP-425: The Infinity Broadcast 


Item #: SCP-425 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-425 is to be kept ina 
standard containment area lined with a Faraday cage. Most staff 
with a security rating above Level 2 are permitted to access 
SCP-425, the exception to this being staff who were born on days of 
the month that are multiples of 8 (e.g. 8, 16, and 24). Staff who were 
born on these days have proven to be susceptible to the negative 
effects of SCP-425. 


Description: SCP-425 appears to be a 1958 Philco Tandem 
Predicta television set. It was first reported in 1963 by the owner of 
the unit, . Mrs. originally contacted the FBI regarding 
the SCP, stating that it had begun to behave erratically at certain 
times. She reported to the FBI that her son, , had begun 
having terrible nightmares and had scratched "co = 8" on the left side 
panel of the television set. Mrs. further reported that although 
she had unplugged the set, it continued to broadcast without power 
at certain times during the day. Embedded Agent became 
aware of the situation and brought SCP-425 to the Foundation. 


SCP-425 was brought in and studied for six weeks by SCP staff with 
no conclusive findings. It was initially classed as Safe until 
03/24/1963, when it turned on by itself and began "broadcasting." Of 
the five staff that were in the room at the time, four experienced a 
shared vision of what they described as "infinity." They also reported 
hearing an atonal sound that seemed to come from the walls. These 
four staff members, while somewhat alarmed by the experience, felt 
a general sense of well-being. They described the feeling as 
"knowing that there was something else out there beyond us." This 
description was repeated verbatim by these four staff members, who 
were separated and interviewed immediately after the event. They 
were given no time to speak to each other prior to the interview. 


movement. A large group of chairs is seen 
rushing down the corridor in a stampede, 
which knocks the drone onto its side and 
briefly severs the feed. Link is reestablished a 
minute later and the drone rights itself with 
minimal effort. 


The next hour is without incident, although the 
buzzing feedback has increased in volume to 
the point where audio feed needs to be muted. 
The drone continues to record shattered 
containers and various notable instances of 
SCP-331 1-1. 


Coming to the 585km point, the drone passes 
an antique chaise lounge and attempts to pilot 
around it. The device is quickly hampered by 
an unknown means, likely from being "stepped 
on" by the object. Lounge is not heavy enough 
to cause significant damage but prevents 
further movement. The furnishing remains on 
the drone for several minutes before the feed 
inexplicably cuts for no apparent reason. 
Connection with drone is lost for several hours. 
When it is reestablished, the device is now on 
the interior of one of the compartments several 
dozen kilometers back. Unable to leave the 
container, the drone remains functioning for 
another twelve hours before the battery dies 
and is considered lost. 


Incident Log 3311.1: 


On //_ , eight days after Exploration Log 3311-C, a 
copy of D-7820's remains was found in a prepackaged 
box originally belonging to a -brand office chair. The 
remains were sealed and compressed between the 
Styrofoam molding. Attempts to trace the origins of the 
package have ended in failure. Remains did not possess 
a "Floor model" inscription but DNA testing has 
confirmed it to be a 99.8% match to D-7820. 


Addendum 3311.2 Interview Logs: 
+ ACCESS INTVW-331 1-A.log 
Interview 3311-A 
Interviewer: Dr. A. Hoffman 


Notes: Records indicate that the storage unit 
had been in the ownership of one Raymond 

, 67, for the past fifteen years, before 
which it had gone unused since the facility's 
inception. , now referred to as POI-3311, 
was taken into Foundation custody before 
being amnesticised and returned to the 
general public. 


<BEGIN LOG> 
POI-3311: So, you finally came for me. 
Dr. Hoffman: You were expecting us? 


POI-3311: Aye. Took you long enough. 


Dr. Hoffman: | suppose we can skip the 
formalities if you know why we are here. 
Please, if you would, explain how the unit 
ended up in your possession? 


POI-3311: The what? 
Dr. Hoffman: The storage unit. 
POI-3311: Pardon? 


Dr. Hoffman: [Dr. Hoffman is heard leafing 
through some papers.] It says here you've 
owned this storage unit at the, uh, 

Storage facility since 2003. You know? It's full 
of chairs? 


POI-3311: Oh, oh, is that why you are here? 


Dr. Hoffman: I'm sorry, but what did you think 
we were here about? 


POI-3311: [shifts nervously in seat] Nothing, 
never mind. 


Dr. Hoffman: Okay, then. [cough] Moving on. 
What can you tell us about the chairs? 


POI-3311: [pauses] Uh, well, what is there to 
talk about, really? It's just doing its thing, | left 
it alone a long time ago. 


Dr. Hoffman: So, you were aware of the 
condition of the unit? 


POI-3311: Yeah, well, not at first. | was certain 
there was something off about the first guy, but 
I'm not about to stop one chair from fulfilling its 
dream of becoming God. 


Dr. Hoffman: I'm sorry? The first chair? 


POI-3311: | mean, it has to start somewhere, 
right? Anyway, all it really wanted was to 
create. This chair was bigger than other chairs. 
Metaphysically larger. It embodied the concept 
to its fullest extent. There was never a time 
where it could not be defined as a chair, and 
that certainty was so potent, it began to impart 
that quality on other things, just like other 
things had imparted the quality of life unto 
itself. Like conceptual osmosis. 


Dr. Hoffman: Alright... I'm following you so 
far. 


POI-3311: | got that unit so it would have 
some work space. Left it to its own devices 
because I'm sure that's what It would have 


wanted. 


Dr. Hoffman: Then why did you stop paying 
for it? 


POI-3311: Well, uh [quietly] to be honest, | 
don't have a lot of money right now. It isn't 
mad at me, is it? 


Dr. Hoffman: The unit has been acquired by 
us and is safely partitioned from the public 
eye. 


POI-3311: [sighs] Okay, good. 


Dr. Hoffman: Were you aware that the entity 
was creating copies of chairs that already 
existed? 


POI-3311: Copies? | don't know about you, but 
anything I've ever seen it make was one 
hundred percent original. It only made demo 
models. Concepts. Artsy bugger, always trying 
new things, always stretching what it means to 
be achair. It all sounds silly, but, you take 
away the object and you see a force behind it, 
a true power. And a need. 


Dr. Hoffman: What kind of need? 


POI-3311: A need to propagate and survive. 
To weave itself into the framework of 
everything. There were times around it that | 
started to ask myself if | was a chair. It made 
so much sense in the middle of it, and it only 
grew with the number of creations it made. 


Dr. Hoffman: What kept you from reporting 
this to the authorities? 


POI-3311: [laughs] | barely believe you are 
taking me seriously, let alone the cops. 


Dr. Hoffman: Fair enough. 


POI-3311: It's so strange to see the lines that 
separate things blur. Your mind can't 
comprehend it. It accepts and rejects its reality 
simultaneously. After the shock of change 
fades, you grow used to it, and it becomes a 
part of you. 


Dr. Hoffman: | see. Thank you, Mr. , you 
have been very enlightening. 


POI-3311: You're welcome. Oh, and, before 
you go. Can | ask you something? 


Dr. Hoffman: Sure. 
POI-3311: You've been inside the unit? 
Dr. Hoffman: We have, yes. 


POI-3311: When you were in there, you didn't 
by chance see any other chairs that happened 
to be... alive? 


Dr. Hoffman: Alive in what sense? 


POI-3311: It's probably nothing, but- | don't 
know. [pause] I've always felt like it wanted to 
create more than just chairs. It wanted to 
impart /ife. After all, that was its sole other 
property. If it can make things into chairs, | fear 
it could make things live. | don't know how I'd 
feel about something like that. 


Subject is seen briefly checking the chair 
underneath them. 


POI-3311: Can't trust anything these days. 
<END LOG> 


Footnotes 

1. Average compartment size is 1.25m3 

2. SeeExploration Logs 3311-B, C. 

3. Instance was found to be non-anomalous. 

4. Seelnterview Log 3311-Afor more information. 
5. Fear of sitting down. 


SCP-3312: OwO what's this? 


Item #: SCP-3312 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: Foundation webcrawlers must 
monitor all forms of social media for any signs of SCP-3312, 
including video sharing platforms, cloud databases, and chat 
forums. Links, URLs, and advertisements relating to SCP-3312 are 
to be neutralized via RR-113 protocols. All leads to ATF are to be 
logged for future reference. 


Individuals affected by SCP-3312 are to be administered Class-B 
amnestics under the condition that they are Stage 3 or prior. 
Individuals in Stages 4 and 5 are to be administered Class-A 
amnestics. Predatory individuals in Stage 6 are to be contained at 
Site-990. Any individuals experiencing undiscovered stages 
following Stage 6 are to be apprehended and brought to Site-990 for 
testing. 


Description: SCP-3312 is a memetic agent that exists under the 
false identity of a fan website, and induces a compulsion in humans 
to consume products, media, and content relating to various 
fanbases (detailed below). SCP-3312 is known to have originated 
from the amateur entrepreneurial group "Accelerate The Future", 
henceforth referred to as "ATF". (See Record Log-08/16 and 
proceeding logs) 


ATF's current interests have become involved with the 
anthropomorphic animal enthusiast community, more commonly 
referred to as the "furry fandom". Previous interests affected by the 
memetic agent include -brand comic books, animated shows 
produced by , and [REDACTED]. 


As of 07/05/201 , SCP-3312 has adapted to become an infohazard 
styled as a furry community-centric website!. Content from the 


website has a memetic effect identical to the site itself.