This is not an exhaustive list, and other aspects of represented 
machines have been noted and recorded. When paintings affected 
by SCP-1891 are destroyed, the humanoid figure returns to 
SCP-1891. 


Conversion Log 1891-1: The following is a record of a SCP-1891 
conversion. Image used is an ink-and-watercolor painting of a 
woman sitting in a field, created by Dr . The sun is visible over 
the horizon. 


00:00: Log begins. No noticeable change in photograph. 


00:05: Slight decomposition is noticeable in the left side 
of the depicted woman’s face. 


00:10: The left side of the depicted woman’s face has 
completely decomposed, revealing several furnaces and 
water tanks. The woman's left eye appears to have been 
replaced with an inflating membrane. An arm, possibly 
that of SCP-1891's humanoid entity, is visible turning a 
valve. 


00:15: The depicted woman's head has been completely 
replaced by a large mass of screens, pipes, gears and 
furnaces. Minor conversion is noted on the chest and 
neck. What was previously the woman's hair is now a 
mass of wires which stretch to the edge of the frame. 
Electricity is visible travelling along these wires. 
SCP-1891's humanoid entity is visible maintaining a 
furnace in the mass of machinery. 


00:20: The depicted woman’s ribs are visible and appear 
to have been converted into a series of walkways, along 
which SCP-1891's humanoid entity is moving. The heart 
of the depicted woman has been converted into a large 
mass of tubes and screens. An unidentified yellow liquid 
is visible running to several points into what was 
previously the woman's head through these tubes. 


00:25: Depicted woman has been completely replaced 
by a large mass of machinery. Several chimneys located 
in what was formerly the woman’s back are releasing 
steam. Several drills present along what was previously 
the depicted woman's arm appear to be digging through 
the depicted field. 


00:30: All clouds in the painting have been converted 
into spherical membranes which are illuminating the 
depicted scene using large spotlights. Several of these 
spherical membranes appear to have landed on what 
was previously the depicted woman's head. Tubes 
containing the previously mentioned yellow liquid are 
running into these membranes. 


00:35: All grass depicted in SCP-1891 appears to be 
pointing directly upwards. Primary mass of machinery 
has expanded significantly and several 'claws' located on 
what was previously the depicted woman's right leg 
appear to be extracting rocks from the ground. 


00:40: Grass appears to have been converted into green 
‘wires’, which stretch to the top of the image. Electricity is 
visible running along these wires. Inside the mass of 


machinery, SCP-1891's humanoid entity is visible placing 
the previously mentioned ore into a canister. 


00:45: Mass of machinery has expanded to fill the whole 
sketch. The depicted sun appears to have been 
converted into a large, glowing membrane which is 
connected to the primary mass of machinery through a 
series of wires. Sketch is removed from SCP-1891’s 
presence. Log ends. 


« SCP-1890 | SCP-1891 | SCP-1892 » 


SCP-1892: Psychiatry Chair 


Item #: SCP-1892 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1892 is currently 
contained in the former Hospital in , MA. No fewer than 
three (3) Foundation agents posing as security guards are to patrol 
the property twice daily to discourage civilian access. All entrances 
to the Hospital building, as well as the entry point to the room 
containing SCP-1892, are to be fitted with standard Foundation 
keycard locks. Testing is to be carried out using D-Class subjects 
only. With the exception of scheduled testing, personnel are 
required to remain a minimum of five (5) meters from SCP-1892 at 
all times. 


Description: SCP-1892 is a chair located in the psychiatry wing of 
the former Hospital. SCP-1892 exhibits no anomalous 
properties outside a distance of two (2) meters. Upon entering this 
zone subjects will perceive an older male voice, belonging to 
SCP-1892-1, encouraging them to sit in SCP-1892 and chastising 
them for being late to their appointment. 


Upon sitting in SCP-1892, subjects are able to visually perceive 
SCP-1892-1. Subjects have consistently described SCP-1892-1 as 
an elderly male wearing medical garb appropriate for a physician in 
the early 1940’s. Testing has revealed SCP-1892-1 to possess 
considerable medical knowledge, though the entity has no 
knowledge of (and will ignore) medicine and techniques introduced 
later than 1944. Once seated, subjects have proven incapable of 
leaving SCP-1892 until discharged by SCP-1892-1. 


SCP-1892-1’s behavior towards the subject depends primarily upon 
the subject’s history of psychiatric illness. Of note is that the entity 
has an uncanny ability to determine whether a subject genuinely 
suffers from a psychiatric disorder: tests involving subjects with 


genuine psychiatric illness and subjects instructed to feign illness 
resulted in correct diagnosis by SCP-1892-1 in 96% of cases, a rate 
significantly higher than Foundation psychiatrists in similar tests. 


Subjects with no history of psychiatric illness report the entity 
subjecting them to a routine physical exam before being discharged. 
If a subject is diagnosed with a mild to moderate case of psychiatric 
illness, SCP-1892-1 will express concern, ask a series of follow-up 
questions, and write a prescription for one of several opioids 
(commonly used as antidepressants prior to the 1950’s)!. These 
scripts appear on the subject’s person after they are discharged by 
SCP-1892-1 and are non-anomalous. 


Subjects diagnosed with severe psychiatric illness (major 
depression, auditory/visual hallucinations, etc.) report SCP-1892-1 
muttering to itself before sighing and stating its intent to restrain the 
subject, citing a lack of alternative therapies. Despite the lack of a 
physical mechanism, subjects are immediately immobilized in a 
manner consistent with wrist, ankle and head restraints. Subjects 
will vocalize extreme distress for a period of five to seven minutes 
after which they become tranquil and are discharged by 
SCP-1892-1. 


After exposure, these subjects demonstrate marked reductions in 
emotionality, motivation and interest. Subjects show little to no 
desire (or ability to plan for) escape and will only react to immediate 
stimuli. Following monthly terminations, analysis of subjects affected 
in this manner revealed lesions in the frontal lobe consistent with 
those of a transorbital lobotomy. 


Footnotes 

1. Subjects treated according to SCP-1892-1’s instructions show no 
improvement over similarly treated subjects not exposed to 
SCP-1892. 


« SCP-1891 | SCP-1892 | SCP-1893 » 


SCP-1893: The Minotaur's Tale 


You are currently viewing Iteration C of the documentation for 
this entity. To view another iteration, reload the page after sixty 
seconds. 


Site 19 wasn't deserted. It couldn't be. There was no way that... 
whatever that thing was had killed everybody except him. But John 
hadn't seen anybody in hours, at least, his radio was dead, his 
Foundation-issue phone had no service (how the hell had that 
happened? he thought to himself; the network was supposed to be 
nigh-on unkillable), and the silence in the building was total. 


It took a while for John to find a single survivor, leaning against a 
wall. John wasn't a medic, but looking at those legs, he didn't think 
there was any chance of fixing that. Both femurs broken, looked like 
they were broken with a baseball bat. Bleeding from a head wound 
that had probably come from the same source. With some of the last 
energy he had left in him, the man turned toward John. "Item... 
number?" he wheezed before hacking up blood from someplace 
deep. 


"SCP-1893," John replied, grabbing ahold of his hand. "Object class: 
Euclid." 


"Sp...special containment procedures?" 


"All stories containing or referencing SCP-1893," John started, "are 
to be contained in the tertiary mainframe at Site 38 until such time 
as Foundation researchers discover a method of transferring them 
without risking contamination to other computer systems. Multiple 
redundant stories are to be kept on the mainframe at all times. 
Should SCP-1893 begin displaying aggressive or otherwise unusual 
behavior, additional new stories written in the style used by 
SCP-1893 are to be downloaded onto the computer. Hard copies of 
all stories before and after SCP-1893 infestation are to be kept in 


the director's office in a triple-locked safe; no other copies are to be 
kept in any other location in any other form to avoid possible 
contamination. To whatever extent possible, discussion of 
SCP-1893 is to be restricted to non-electronic means, and 
references to item number SCP-1893 are to be prohibited on any 
Foundation server or computer other than the one mentioned 
above." 


The other man nodded, appearing to understand John's words 
better than he would have thought possible. If it were John, he 
would have been seeing if that pistol beside him had any working 
rounds left. But the man seemed determined to continue. 
"Description?" he said, straining to keep his voice calm. 


John would play along. "SCP-1893 is an incompletely understood 
phenomenon, believed to be electronic or digital in nature. The 
phenomenon has demonstrated at least a primitive sort of 
intelligence, in the form of adapting to new environments and 
avoiding inhospitable ones and a rudimentary ability to communicate 
with Foundation researchers, albeit indirectly. It is not Known 
whether the entity is sapient or even sentient—" 


A roar echoed down the halls. The roar of the beast responsible for 
this...this massacre. It couldn't be described accurately as a voice in 
any human sense, because whatever this thing was born as, it was 
no longer recognizable as the same sort of being that John was. 


John heard another voice, this one human. The beast had found 
some prey. The voice rose in volume and pitch, going through the 
five stages of death in a matter of seconds. But the creature couldn't 
be denied, couldn't be bargained with, and you didn't have time for 
anger or depression. It didn't care if you accepted it or not. The 
sound of crunching bones crashed down the hallway, mixed with 
screams. Both stopped with a certain finality, accompanied by the 
sound of feet fading into the distance. 


John knew there wasn't much time. "SCP-1893's principal trait is its 
memetic quality; it is impossible to perceive, interact with, or discuss 
the entity except through fictional narratives. Specifically, any 
electronic message referring to SCP-1893 will be altered by the 
entity into a prose passage of variable length, tone, or content. 


However, messages altered by SCP-1893 will always have certain 
constant qualities. First, the content of the original message will be 
left intact, replacing any dialogue between characters in the story. 
Second, stories will often contain between two to three characters; 
while the dialogue between them will remain constant, the setting 
and tone of the characters and their surroundings are believed to 
often reflect SCP-1893's 'mood' at the time of access. Third, 
components of the story's plot may change depending on whether or 
not SCP-1893 can determine the identity of the reader, though 
researchers have been unable to detect a pattern in the 
modifications to date." 


The other man's breathing became ragged; John knew he didn't 
have much time. "Finally, all instances of stories altered by 
SCP-1893 will contain an unknown character, described as being 
unusually tall and muscular, often said to have tattoos of bull's horns 
on or near the face. The extent to which this character interacts with 
the others is often indicative of SCP-1893's level of aggression at 
that moment; when the entity is calm, the character will barely be 
referenced or discussed. When SCP-1893 feels threatened or is 
prepared to attack, the character will display an increasingly 
important or central role to the story's plot." 


The other man looked satisfied. John reached over and picked up 
the pistol, ejected the magazine. Two bullets left. He reloaded the 
gun, pulled back the hammer, and put it in the other man's hand. 
There was nothing else either of them could do at this point, and 
John wasn't carrying around a better way of dying than that. John 
stood up and began to walk away. 


The gun in the other man's hand went off. John was amazed initially 
by how loud it was in the narrow hallway. Then, he was amazed as 
he felt himself slumping to the ground, blood spilling down the front 
of his shirt through the bullet hole. He couldn't feel the gunshot, yet 
knew the pain would be there soon. Worse yet, he heard the roaring 
again. Coming toward him, this time. 


"Addendum 1893-A," the man behind him said in a much calmer 
voice than John had expected. 


John heard the sound of enormous feet coming closer and closer to 


him, and saw no point in stopping the game now. "Though no effort 
undertaken to date has succeeded in fully containing SCP-1893," 
John said, losing blood rapidly, "all evidence suggests that the 
Foundation's decision to classify the entity as such has caused it to 
adopt this as its 'name' and react specifically to any mention of that 
item number in electronic media." 


John could see the creature now, lumbering closer to both of them. 
The head was just recognizably human enough for John to almost 
mistake the creature for one. The twin horns tattooed on either side 
of the forehead wrinkled as his face shifted into a rictus of 
excitement, almost glee, at seeing new prey. It began running 
towards the prostrate figures. 


John kept talking, hoping to distract himself. "Assuming this to be 
true, a theoretical plan has been devised in the event that 
termination of SCP-1893 should become necessary. According to 
this plan, Foundation personnel would first—" 


The gun's last round went off behind him. Whoever the other man 
was, he had chosen the easy way out, leaving John here to distract 
the predator. A brilliant move, if a bit heartless. The minotaur 
reached John before he could finish his last words, rushed out like a 
prayer before death. The beast smashed John's jaw to splinters with 
the first swing. 


« SCP-1892 | SCP-1893 | SCP-1894 » 


SCP-1894: Crash Course Diet 


Item #: SCP-1894 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1894 is to be held ina 
secured garage, located within Site—77. It is to be kept in an 
unpowered state, with no battery. The tires have been removed, and 
placed in a non-anomalous storage facility located on-site. The fuel 
tank is to be continuously drained, and any reports of unusual 
weight loss reported to the supervising Level 3 administrator. Once 
per month, it is to be inspected for any signs of regrowth, and if any 
components have begun to appear, they are to be stripped. 


Description: SCP-1894 is a mid-sized van, with vanity license plate, 
reading "CRSHCRS"". All identifying marks, such as brand names 
or serial number, have been removed. It is capable of regenerating 
any damages to itself. Liquids usually required for running an 
automobile, such as coolant, have been replaced with bodily fluids 
such as fat, pus, and blood.