Discovery: SCP-527 was discovered in Boston by Foundation 
agents in 2002, and was moved to Site-19 in 2004. 


Addendum 527.1: Initial Interview 


[BEGIN LOG] 


Dr. Baker: Thank you for your cooperation thus far, SCP-527. 
We're just using this interview as a way to gauge any potential 
anomalous behaviour we might not expect. 


SCP-527: Alright. 


Dr. Baker: To begin, are you capable of breathing 
underwater? 


SCP-527: No. 


SCP-2046 (Chemistry), and SCP-1877 (Biology), 
correlating with the main branches of scientific study 
where anomalies normally manifest. 


S. D. Locke's Proposal: When Day Breaks 


You find the access tunnel, hidden within a natural cave 
a mile off the main road. 


You don't need the keycard. The door is ajar. 


It smells here. It smells like them. Hopefully, they've 
moved on. You've come so far already. You can't turn 
back now. 


There is a slick trail that leads from the cave entrance 
and into the depths of the site. If it's blood or shit - or 
something that smeared off one of those things, you 
cannot tell. You make a point to avoid it. 


You're still receiving the distress signal. It only started 
broadcasting yesterday. Whoever it is - you pray they're 
still alive. 


Your footsteps echo throughout empty corridors. Each 
footfall sounds for all the world like a dozen, as if you're 
not treading through the dark alone. 


Elevator is down - so you take the stairs, ending on floor 
B5: Keter Holding. You pass several empty containment 
chambers. The horrors they once held are long gone. 


If you're lucky. 


The trail takes you to an office branching off the main 
hall - the source of the signal. The door is cracked open, 
but stuck. You plant your feet, push with all your might. 


Something skitters out of one of the rooms to your left 
and around the corner before you can get a good look at 
it. Your first thought is 'dog’. 


It was on the ceiling, though. 


You take refuge in the room, slam the door behind you. 

It's dark here. You're safe. You take off your jacket and 

head wrap. It'd be a damn shame to die from something 
like hyperthermia after all that's happened. 


The sole operating emergency light rotates in its casing - 
casting a pale orange glow across the room every other 
second. 


As if the room itself had a pulse. 


There's shelving haphazardly placed behind the door - a 
barricade. You scan the room. Soiled clothes, half eaten 
food. Despite the presence of an adjoining restroom, 
there is excrement in a bucket in the corner. A pneumatic 
chamber on the Northern wall would have been 
delivering consumables to the occupant. 


The trail terminates in the corner of the room, forming a 
sick puddle. You spot three pharmacy bottles - further 
inspection reveals them to be various opioids. They're all 
empty. 


There's a desk with a computer atop it. Approaching the 
terminal, you can clearly see the blinking light of the 
power button. 


You take a seat. Turn it on. 


Emergency Protocol Activated. Clearance 
Level Safeguards Removed. Full Access 
Granted. 


Secure. Contain. Protect. 


Loading... 
Loading.. 
Loading... 
Loading.. 
Loading... 


Loading.. 


You hear footsteps just outside the door. Every first step 
comes down heavy, the second drags behind it. 


Loading... 
Loading.. 
Loading... 
Loading.. 
Loading... 
Loading.. 
Loading... 
Loading.. 
Loading... 


Authenticating... 


A dark shape blots out the light streaming in through the 
slit between the floor and the doorway. 


Authenticating... 


Authenticating... 


You tense up, waiting with bated breath, praying it will 
pass. You damn the deafening thumping of your heart for 
betraying your position. 


Please Wait... 


Please Wait... 


Please Wait... 


The shadow recedes. You breathe a sigh of relief just as 
the screen comes to life... 
Opening File 


& AUTOMATED SECURE SYSTEM 
NOTIFICATION CODE 235 (ASSN-235) & 


There has been an error in retrieving the current iteration of the 


SCP-001 file. You are currently viewing revision #3. Newer revisions 
can be accessed at the bottom of this page. 


Access File: SCP-001 Revision #3/12: (1) Audio File 


Revision 3/12 updated 1312 days ago 
Item #: SCP-001 
Object Class: Apollyon 


Special Containment Procedures: Due to its nature, 
SCP-001 cannot be contained. Survivors of the SCP-001 
event stationed within secure facilities are to remain in 
contact with one another. Personnel are encouraged to 
attempt to reach Site-5' Site-19 by any means at their 
disposal. Personnel with knowledge as to the 
whereabouts of the O5 Council are to relay this 
information to the Administrator. 


Survivors attempting to travel outdoors must fully cover 
their bodies in protective clothing; preferably several 
layers. Travel by foot should be limited as much as 
possible. Cities - and man-made structures in general - 
provide the greatest protection. Formerly-wooded areas 
should be circumvented. Travel by air is preferable 
above all other methods. 


Personnel exposed to SCP-001 are to be considered 
lost. Compromised personnel are to be abandoned. 
Euthanization is not to be attempted. 


Collective instances of SCP-001-A that are of formidable 


size are to be avoided at all costs. Conductive electrical 
weapons have proven partially effective at immobilizing 
instances, and may be used for self-defense. Incendiary 
weapons work as well. Cryonic munitions are the most 
effective thus far. 


Testing has revealed that SCP-001-A is relatively safe to 
consume. This is only to be considered as a last resort in 
the absence of other options. As SCP-001-A may 
reconstitute within the digestive system, only small 
portions should be consumed at a time to prevent 
blockage. 


Personnel stationed at Site-19 are to pursue research 
concerning off-world colonization. Shuttles must be 
constructed as to not allow light to penetrate the interior. 


To those of you with families, or God forbid, child 
push on. Do not let their deaths be in vain. We dc 


Humanity may still have a future. Come to Site-1! 


Learn to embrace the darkness, friends. Fear 


Description: SCP-001 is the designation given to the 
Sun, after an event on [SYSTEM ERROR] Data lost: ec172. 
Contact SysAdmin. resulting in ~6.8 billion casualties within 
the first twenty-four hours. The SCP-001 effect does not 
seem to result from exposure to ultraviolet rays, but 


rather light in the visual spectrum (~390 to 700 nm). The 
effect is similarly present in moonlight. 


Upon contact with visible light produced by the sun, living 
organisms liquefy at the point of contact, with the effect 
spreading until the entire organism is converted. Visually, 
this is reminiscent of melting wax. The time this takes is 
largely dependent on the level of exposure and size of 
the organism. Despite this restructuring, at no point do 
living organisms perish. 


Upon completion these organisms (SCP-001-A) take on 
a gelatinous consistency. Motile organisms will attempt 
to orient themselves in a fashion reminiscent of their 
previous form, to varying degrees of success. 


Flora typically remain physically inert, yet are still 
capable of photosynthesis, and still produce oxygen. 
Organisms capable of flight lose the capability to do so. 
Fauna remain sentient, and display behavior that 
parallels their non-anomalous counterparts when not 
absorbed into a collective instance. Humans retain a 
modicum of sapience and memory. 


Biological anomalies exposed to SCP-001 are affected in 
the same manner. It seems that exposure nullifies any 
previously expressed anomalous characteristics. 


Due to their composition, instances of SCP-001-A that 
make contact with one another may combine and blend 
at the molecular level. This does not seem to cause any 
pain or distress to the instances, though the resulting 
bulk can inhibit movement. Since the SCP-001 event, 
most instances have congregated into such collectives, 
which seem to possess no maximum volume. 


The resulting biomass is amorphous and chaotic. The 
component organisms will shift between a full-to-semi- 
liquid state - limbs and bodies will rise periodically from 
within the mass for a short duration, before deteriorating 
and being subsumed by another life-form. 


Collective instances will locomote by using their 
appendages in tandem to carry their mass. Larger 
instances will form a pseudopod from their constituent 
life-forms, and drag themselves about in a manner 
similar to amoeba. 


+Open attached file: Audio Log 


Access granted. 


A harsh static lashes out of the speakers when 
you open the file. It disturbs the stillness of the 
room, catches you off guard and quickens your 
heart's pace. There's some handling noise as 
the recorder adjusts their microphone. 


A brief moment of silence passes and then: 


"Ahem. This is Doctor Logan Igotta, Level, um, Three 
researcher." 


There's a quiver in her voice that betrays her 
attempts at professionalism. She pauses, 
takes a deep breath, and continues. 


"Due to Site-46's possession of several communicable 
infohazards - we have, we have been cut off from the 
rest of the network u-under Blackout Protocol. As such, 
I'll be updating this as we come a-across new 
information. 


On the bright side, we are actually still receiving 
transmissions from a few Sites. A good number of 
personnel have made it, it seems. Some are planning to 
make a break for 19, some are trying to fight the dash 
As, some, like us, are simply biding their time. Our Site is 
sealed for the time being. We're not ready for the 
journey. At least, not yet." 


Dr. Baker: Are you capable of communicating with other fish, 
or with other sea-based lifeforms? 


SCP-527: No. 


Dr. Baker: | see. When did you first discover your condition? 
Were you by any chance attacked or bitten by a fish you did 
not recognize, or experience an encounter with a sea-based 
deity of some kind? 


SCP-527: No. 
Dr. Baker: Uh... well, then you've been like this since birth? 
SCP-527: Yep. 


Dr. Baker: I... alright. Do you know of any other anomalous 
traits you might exhibit? 


SCP-527: Sure don't. Like | told the other guy, this is all it is. 
You're looking at it. Lie, Stripes, Hot, Sweetie, they got all the 
good stuff. I'm just the guy with a fish head. 


Dr. Baker: Do you... have any idea why your creator might 
have fashioned you in this... way? 


SCP-527: Fuck if | know. 


[END LOG] 


Addendum 527.2: Recovered Document 


Note: When asked, SCP-527 was able to produce the following 
document. 


+ Show document 


Wow! You've just found yourself your very 
own Little Mister, a limited edition collection 
from Dr. Wondertainment! 


Find them all and become Mr. Collector!! 


She sighs. 


"We... experienced a containment breach a few days 
ago. One of the higher-maintenance humanoids broke 
loose - son of a bitch compromised containment on half 
a, half a dozen Keters and ran off. 


They didn't make it more than five feet from the tunnels 
before collapsing in a soup. I-| watched it play out on the 
cams. 


It didn't take long for them to get back up." 


She stops again, mutters to herself 
incomprehensibly - before you hear the 
unmistakable sound of a match-strike. 


She exhales audibly. 


"Ahh... M-much better. Not exactly a, exactly a 
designated smoke area; but what the hell, right?” 


She clears her throat. 


Commander Anand suited up and went to town on them 
the next day, tried to drive them off. It didn't turn out very 
well, poor bastard. But we did learn a thing or two, at 
least." 


Pause. Exhale. 


"There's only a few of us left here. I'm holed up in one of 
the offices. Jerry and Director Phillips are somewhere in 
the barracks. Clyde and a few D's locked themselves in 

the armory with Ari. 


| really should see how she's doing." 


She trails off for a moment - before you hear 
the buzz of radio chatter. 


"Hey, hun. How're you holding up down there?" 


A voice responds. A man with an exaggerated, 
mocking tone. 


"I'm doing just fine poopsie-kins! | want you to know | 
wuv you bunches! Heh, heh." 


Logan shoots back. 


"Who? Wh- knock it off and put her on, dammit. | need to 
speak with her." 


There's a clamor on the other end while the 
radio changes hands. A soft voice calls out, 
concerned. 


"Babe? What's wrong?" 
Logan responds. 
"Um - er- nothing, nothing." 
Pause. Exhale. 
"| just wanted to check in real quick." 
Ari pleads. 
"I'm fine, babe. Really. | can take care of myself.” 
A creak - Logan shifts in her seat. 


"No, no. | know, | know that. | can't help it, though. | 
know coming here was never easy for you....” 


Pause. Exhale. Logan continues: 
"...and with everything going on I—" 


Ari interrupts her. 


"Hey! You told me you quit smoking." 


There's a ruckus as Igotta presumably 
attempts to snuff her cigarette. 


"Oh! Uh...No! No, of course not. | mean, | did! | did 
stop." 


Ari doesn't sound convinced. 


"| don't think I'm the one you need to worry about. I'm 
staying clean. | haven't even thought of touching 
mnestics in months. Trust me. 


Anyways, since you were wondering, I'm fine. The guys 
are sitting around playing cards, I'm tucked in the corner 
with my notebook." 


You can practically hear Igotta smiling as she 
jokes. 


"Sweetheart! Penning a sonnet about my undying love at 
a time like this? I'm flattered." 


Ari responds with a feigned laugh. 
"An elegy, at the moment. | feel like if | don't keep myself 


busy doing sometning, igo crazy iocked down here.” 
"| know what you mean, hun. I'll let you get back to it. 


| love you." 
Ari replies. 
"Love you too, babe." 


A moment of silence. Then, a match-strike 
followed by an audible exhale. 


"And that's all of us. Everyone else was either top-side 
during the event, or they were killed in the breach. 


Director's orders are to stay put. Keep an eye on the 
cams - both in and around the facility. We've got the 
001'd skips beating at our front door, and god knows 
what else locked in here with us. 


We still have electricity - we should for quite some time - 

and the place is stocked with enough supplies to last the 

site a couple of years. We're going to be fine for now." 
Pause. Exhale. 

"Everything's going to be fine." 


She waits a beat, before ending the 
transmission. 


Access File: SCP-001 Revision #5/12: Incident Report Appended 


Revision 5/12 updated 1202 days ago 


Item #: SCP-001 
Object Class: Apollyon 


Special Containment Procedures: No changes 
submitted. Information collapsed. 


Description: No changes submitted. Information 
collapsed. 


+Open attached file: Incident Report-001.1 


Access granted. 


They've just been sitting out there this entire time, calling 
out to us, begging for us to come outside. The noise 
drew in more of them. There's this one mass that I'm 
sure must have a few dozen people and god-knows how 
many animals roiling around inside it. Screams and 
bleats and screeches and howls nonstop. Louder than all 
hell. The worst ones make this disgusting moaning - like 
they're actually enjoying it. 


They're not going to leave so long as they know we're 
down here. 


We managed to talk one of the D's into going out - see if 
he couldn't draw them away. He was surprisingly okay 
with the plan - all he asked for was a gun, and a single 
round. He made it out there and one got a hold of him, 
tried to get his mask off. He managed to work the pistol 
up beneath his chin in time, got it off. | figured he was 
lucky. 


After he fell limp though, it kept working at his suit. Pried 
off the hood, poured itself inside. Began tearing it off of 
him from within. 


He came back; started changing - dripping out of the suit 
and screaming and screaming and screaming. 


They won't even let us die.