| will admit, | do have some feelings for you, but it was 
not those types of feelings. | apologize if this sounds 
off, but the emotions | have for you are closer to those 
| would have for a mother, or family member, not... 
not like the ones in the dream. 


You said | shouldn't have any more of that drink. | 
have to agree with your sentiment, I'm sorry for ever 
drinking it, but it was just so good. 


| woke up early today. Can't go back to sleep. | 


convinced you into letting me in on what you planned 
for tonight, responding with "guitar or violin first?”. 
Apparently, you've been wanting me to learn an 
instrument, since it's more subtle than a sword... 
apparently. I'm unsure what you mean by that, but 
alright. | went with the guitar, since it felt more at 
home at the First Hound (I don't think you've seen the 
place, have you”). 


"| expect something great from you, Sweetie." 


I'm still nervous from it all... I'm wondering if it's really 
necessary, but | digress. You haven't steered me 
wrong before. 


It just dawned on me, tomorrow's Sunday. That's the 
day most churches gather, isn't it? | think | heard Joey 
say something about all of us being required to attend 
yesterday. | can only imagine the brimstone that'll 
spew from his mouth. Oh, and so late too. Normally I'd 
be sound asleep... 


Well that's great then. 


Morning (This is just... disgusting): 


... |don't even know where to begin with today. I'll 
skip how awful | felt throughout the whole day. Wolf's 
Pitch was on my mind throughout the whole night, but 
that service? 


It began with Morgan standing at the pulpit, a large 
chandelier dangling overhead of him. He wasn't 
wearing any priestly robes or gowns, just his usual 
three piece suits. He stood there, saying nothing, and 
doing nothing for most of the sermon, only 
occasionally raising his arms to signal applause from 
the congregation. 


Then | noticed how rapt everyone was. It looked like 


they were just listening for something, or like Morgan 
was actually saying something, and | wasn't seeing it. 
| almost jumped when he actually did say something. 


This isn't a direct quote, but he said something to the 
like of "Now, the time has come. Bring her to me," as 
he went to take off his jacket in favor of a smock and 
gloves. A few seconds after he said that, | heard the 
doors open, and saw Espen pushing out a girl, maybe 
around eight years old, restrained to a table. 


| recognized the straps. They're the kind that asylums 
use to restrict movement before treatment... | should 
have realized what was happening long before he 
actually said it. | remembered these words... vividly. 


"Today, we have a very serious case," he began. 
"This young girl my assistant is rolling up to me is 
Rachel. Now, her parents have come up to me, and 
told me she has been acting very strangely. She has 
been talking back, causing ruckus, even going as far 
as to refuse a direct order from her parents! Far from 
the sweet little thing she used to be. Her parents have 
come to me to try and bring that little girl back." 


"Do you hear me Rachel? Your parents are worried 
about you." 


Those words made me freeze. | don't know what was 
worse, the subject of the matter, or the calm tone in 
his voice as he said it, which was very 
uncharacteristic of him from what I've heard. All | 
could see was the girl struggling in her bands from 
under the thin sheet they placed over her prior. | don't 
think she was even wearing clothes, the sheet 
seemed to be her only cover from what | saw. 


Morgan went on, but my attention drifted towards 
what he was doing to that girl. He took a out a sort of 
head brace and had it strapped to her before 
forcefully opening her left eye, and holding it open 


with some kind of grip from the brace before grabbing 
a tool. It looked like a thin metal stick, or a very long 
needle. 


He stuck it in her eye. He stuck it in her eye deep, and 
everyone was fine with it. They encouraged it, prayed 
as he was doing it. She tried to scream, but she was 
gagged, and her sound was overpowered by 
Morgan's speech... Like he was giving some kind of 
seance. | don't even know how she's siill alive. 


It had to have gone into her brain, because he was 
wedging the stick around afterwards. She should have 
died, and | thought she did when she stopped 
resisting him, but once he finished and unchained her, 
she just sat up like nothing even happened. She 
wasn't scared, crying, or anything. I'd say she was 
nothing, but she seemed almost blissful. 


Everyone exclaimed as she sat up, and | caught a few 
glares for not doing so along with them. 


| asked around afterwards but people, the ones that 
didn't tell me to shove off that is, couldn't give me a 
straight answer. The only thing | could catch was 
"psychic surgery". | don't think anyone actually knows 
what religion he's preaching. If there is any. Am | the 
only one seeing it like this? 


They said God was with him. I'm not religious at all, 
but if | was, I'd say that there is no god here. And if 
there was, | don't want to meet him. 


I'm scared Clovis. | want to go back home. | know 
you'll probably be back by the time | finish writing this, 
but | feel | need you right now. | hate this place. It's 
disgusting... He is disgusting. 


| want Haven to burn. | want him to burn. 


Day 4; (Sunday/Monday) 


Evening (Thank you, Clovis): 


Thank you for being there for me after writing the 
previous entry. I... | really needed you there; my mind 
was in a dark place after seeing... that. | agree, your 
plan makes sense. We'll continue the lessons. 


However, I'm still concerned about this wolf. I'm not 
sure what it is, | haven't seen it at all, and the mere 
thought of a wild animal walking around here is 
unsettling. |... had a thought about Joey today. It 
might be nothing, but... | need to be sure. I'll continue 
it in the next half of the entry. 


Morning (Joey): 


| talked to Joey after work today. | had a thought 
about him at the sermon: Joey has been wearing an 
eye patch since I've met him, and he said once that 
he got in trouble with Morgan. About the wolf. If | was 
going to learn anything about this wolf, he is the one 
I'd have to go to. 


My suspicions have been confirmed when | 
confronted him with it. 


Sometime before me, Joey had been trying to get 
help from outside. "Speaking out when he shouldn't 
have," using his own words. Morgan tried to ‘convince 
him to stay silent, but Joey still drew attention despite 
it. It wasn't until he was caught spying on Morgan until 
he was made an example of. 


| felt like he has been hesitant in telling me more 
before. Now | see why. Joey told me that he was one 
of Morgan's first, when it came to the surgeries. 
Apparently though, Morgan wasn't entirely successful. 
He managed to slip and got his eye instead. 


Skewered it, and managed to pull it out of its socket. 
Regardless of what Morgan was trying to do, Joey got 
his message. 


Morgan does this performance act called "faith 
healing" once a week to rid people of their demons for 
anyone who asks. Pulls names out of a hat, unless 
there's anything he finds urgent. The one | saw 
yesterday was one of those... acts. 


This "psychic surgery" is apparently his specialty now. 
He practices other types of healing, most of them are 
much less gruesome, but most of them also rely ona 
delusion they have an effect. This one is his most 
effective, since it attacks their frontal lobe. 


Joey told me that | should stop looking into it. He said 
that he knew what | was getting at, and he wanted me 
to stop. He warned me of what might happen to me. 
Even showed me what Morgan did to him, the crater 
where his eye used to be... | understood his 
sentiment, but | don't care. This needs to end. 


A place like this shouldn't exist; | refuse to keep on 
knowing that there was something | could do about it. 


He must have known that nothing he could've said 
would've stopped me, because he told me of a spot 
down below the stage. According to him, if | crawled 
under the altar’s platform, there's a ventilation system 
that would let me hear into his room. Apparently, his 
bed is right underground with us, just secluded from 
us. He used to use it before another one of his spots 
was found out. 


We're starting tonight. 


Day 5; (Monday/Tuesday) 


Evening (Lessons and Tomorrow's morning plans): 


Last morning's lessons involved Wolf's Pitch, which is 
why | didn't update last entry. Honestly, | was 
prepared to give it up, but if drinking it is going to help 
"move things along for me," | see no reason why not. 
You only gave me a tiny glass of it though! | could 
hardly enjoy it... 


Though, | suppose it wouldn't help learning how to 
play an instrument while utterly cast. Does Wolf's 
Pitch have something in it I'm unaware of? What is it 
made of? I've heard of some artists using laudanum to 
help them with inspiration. Am | drinking this for 
similar reasons? 


I'm not saying that laudanum is an ingredient to it, it 
couldn't; they're selling this in a pub. The only thing 
there is alcohol and cigars. Laudanum is too 
expensive for the price it's selling for... and illegal 
without a prescription. 


| noticed something during: you didn't really show me 
any notes. You've simply played a few dissonant 
chords, not even tuning the guitar, gave me the guitar, 
and told me to play "the first song that comes to 
mind." 


| don't know what it was. | began to play... something. 
It had rhythm, melody, an idea of where it would go. It 
didn't feel as if | was learning an instrument, it felt as if 
| was only out of practice, or | was learning a variant 
of an art form | already knew. What | played was not 
perfect by any means, but it sounded as if | had 
played it before. 


When | finished, you took the guitar, and copied what 
I've played, but better. Not perfect, but better. Then 
you handed it back to me, and told me to play it better 
than you had. We exchanged the guitar back and 
forth, getting progressively better until you played it for 


SCP-914: The Clockworks 


Item #: SCP-914 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: Only personnel who submit a 
formal request and receive approval from site command may 
operate 914. SCP-914 is to be kept in research cell 109-B with two 
guard personnel on duty at all times. Any researchers entering 109- 
B are to be accompanied by at least one guard for the entirety of 
testing. A full list of tests to be carried out must be given to all guard 
personnel on duty; any deviation from this list will result in 
termination of testing, forcible removal of personnel from 109-B, and 
formal discipline at site command’s discretion. 


WARNING: At this time, no testing of biological matter is allowed. 
Refer to document 109-B:117. Applying the “Rough” setting to 
explosive materials is not advised. 


Description: SCP-914 is a large clockwork device weighing several 
tons and covering an area of eighteen square meters, consisting of 
screw drives, belts, pulleys, gears, springs and other clockwork. It is 
incredibly complex, consisting of over eight million moving parts 
comprised mostly of tin and copper, with some wooden and cloth 
items observed. Observation and probing have showed no 
electronic assemblies or any form of power other than the 
“Mainspring” under the “Selection Panel”. Two large booths 
3mx2.1mx2.1m (1 Oftx7ftx7ft) are connected via copper tubes to the 
main body of SCP-914, labeled “Intake” and “Output”. Between them 
is a copper panel with a large knob with a small arrow attached. The 
words Rough, Coarse, 1:1, Fine, and Very Fine are positioned at 
points around the knob. Below the knob is a large “key” that winds 
the “mainspring”. 


When an object is placed in the Intake Booth, a door slides shut, 
and a small bell sounds. If the knob is turned to any position and the 


the fifth time, and ended the lesson. Or did you, 
really? 


You asked me to go bed and, being reasonably drunk, 
| was able to oblige. The dream with the snow rabbit 
came back. | felt similar to how | felt towards this 
rabbit when | met her during the first dream... The 
forest wasn't snowed over, or burnt. There was life 
there. 


Where we were, the trees were turning into this 
pleasant shade of orange. | wasn't the student in the 
vision, | was the teacher. Think the rabbit and | were 
exchanging art forms, but | forget what she was 
teaching... | think dancing, but | suppose that wouldn't 
matter now. 


The way | taught her didn't involve notes. It was more 
like... learning how to speak? Or maybe how to walk? 
It was something along those lines. Something that 
comes naturally to most. She picked it up well... As 
well as | did when you were teaching me. 


We finished the lesson, and laid down beside each 
other, my head on her shoulder and my forearm 
holding hers. Most of what happened outside of the 
lesson was a blur, but... we were happy. | remember 
that. Every time | reminisce of these dreams, it leaves 
me wanting more of them. 


Bittersweet. That's the only word | can think of to 
describe the feeling. Do the other patrons feel like this 
whenever they drink? Why are humans treating Wolf's 
Pitch like standard vodka? | don't understand. 


Regardless, it's helping immensely... in its own way. 
But for tomorrow's matters, Espen is of concern. | 
need to know their involvement in all of this. 


Espen seems to be working directly under Morgan, 
and Espen has shown signs of performing some form 


of summoning. If that's not something of interest, | 
don't know what is. Getting late, have to leave. 


Morning (Espen): 


| learned what Espen's job was. 


My shift ends where theirs begins, so | often see them 
while locking up. They always tend to stop by the 
chapel for a moment before going off on their own. | 
think they're dropping off the bear with Morgan, but 
they tend to stay with Morgan for long. Maybe for a 
half hour. | have no idea what they're doing, but 
whatever it is, I'm sure it's something shameless on 
Morgan's part. He's done enough to that poor kid. 


| managed to make myself some breakfast tea to 
wake myself up in the meantime, but eventually 
Espen left. | noticed something about Espen and their 
bear: 


They seem... different without it. Their movement is 
just so stiff, and their stare so blank; it's as if they're 
more machine than anything else. | followed them to 
the underground entrance, and | saw them don a 
mask of sorts before going under. It looked like their 
bear... I'm not sure why. It might look like their bear to 
comfort them, but given what | heard from the wolf, | 
think it was more for it than Espen. 


Of course, it was very hard to follow them. | haven't 
mentioned this here, but it's bloody dark in the 
Underground's halls. You have to rely on feeling 
around for walls and memorizing the turns for a sense 
of where you are. The only light under here is inside 
the actual rooms, so you're blinded every time you 
open a door. 


| was able to hear Espen as | walked through the hall. 
They were whistling, and pretty loudly too. | didn't 


realize it was intentionally loud until | felt the wolf grab 
my head, and give it a heavy shove of a clawed hand. 
| know it was the wolf. | heard him growl, | felt his fur, | 
heard my neck crunch against the metal wall before 
collapsing to the floor. For a moment, | couldn't feel 
anything below my neck. 


| landed face first on the floor as it walked over me. 
Then | saw Espen open the door, them filling the hall 
with light. | saw the Wolf. It... It wasn't normal. | feel 
compelled to compare it to a man given its posture 
and muscular build, but its head, its fur coat and tail... 
It looks as if he was a wolf who had decided to walk 
on two feet, or a man in wolf's clothing. Espen didn't 
so much as flinch.