Their faces were gone. Whether they were slashed off, or bitten, | do 
not know. No man did this. A wolf, perhaps. But it is a wolf that has 
claws the size of a Bowie knife. And something else was amiss as 
well- no-one wanted to bury them, and no-one could recall their 
names. | looked at the roster, my journal... no record of them. | 
knew they were part of the expedition, but even then, | did not know 
who they were. 


June 9th 


Marsh has been shaken by the events. He's announced that he's 
taking a small party of three back to the trading post to senda 
telegram asking for aid. They will be back tomorrow morning, and 
until then, we are to continue digging. 


Finally heard from the agents in Cope's camp, via courier; Carlin 
says that his workers are being more careful with the specimens. 
The agents intend to take them and be on the first train back east. 
Carlin's made the excuse of starting his own company with a third 
party, intending to sell fossils to the highest bidder. Not technically 
incorrect. 


Cope thinks the specimens are just igneous formations, thanks to 
prodding from both of them, useless to the forward study of 
paleontology. Marsh, unfortunately, will be less easy to convince. No 


matter; a stab from a syringe on the way out will cause him to forget. 
June 10th 


Marsh has not returned. We left a trail to our camp with stakes, so it 
would be difficult for him to become lost. The men are worried. 


His second-in-command has begun rationing water to us; another 
reason Marsh left. We are down to the last barrel, and our food is 
almost gone. 


The thermometer in Marsh's tent shows almost one-hundred 
Fahrenheit. The men are taking longer breaks, but | and two others 
continue to work. | managed to find a nest of the eggs, and quickly 
packed and prepared them. None of them are damaged. 


There appears to be, for lack of a better term, a vein of them, much 
like a vein of ore in a mine, stretching far beneath the ground. The 
men are being more careful with them now, at least. 


| should be able to make off with the crate they intend to send back 
to Cheyenne for transport. | just need to change the destination from 
Peabody to New York. 


June 11th 


Marsh returned this morning, bearing water and rations. He was 
pleased that we had found more of the eggs, and swore us to 
secrecy on the contents, before having one of his assistants break 
one open, revealing an embryo within. 


At the moment he did this, there was an enormous bellow from over 
the bluff, and a rumbling sound, as if a herd of bison were 
stampeding. Nothing came of it, but the camp is shaken. Marsh has 
given us permission to take two days off and spend time around the 
trading post. 


Night 
Another died. 


It was larger than any man in the camp, completely silent, covered in 
quills barbs feathers, like a giant bird. Its mouth was full of one- 


hundred teeth, and it leapt from the tops of the tents, descending on 
the man. It was not solid; at one point, | saw it walk through the wall 
of a tent without disturbing it. And it seemed angry. 


There was no mistaking it: it was a dinosaur, some unknown 
species. The man it came upon shot at it, but the bullet rocketed 
through the night, doing nothing other than rouse the camp. The 
claws on its feet were like sickles, and they sliced through one 
man's throat, before- it cannot be called "feeding". No further harm 
came to his flesh, but his soul... | saw parts of his soul be ripped 
out, wisps of being rended from his gut, into its flesh, and then it 
went for the eyes. 


| displaced some rock as | observed it, and it saw me. It had no 
hatred in its eyes, just simple curiosity. It did not want to hurt me, 
specifically. Then, with a cry that has not been heard in millennia 
upon millennia, it vanished. | can not bring myself to approach the 
body, nor can | remember the man's name. | wrote it in my journal- 
he was one of the riflemen- but now, when | look at it, | do not see it. 


| have told no-one of this. | will make this clear in my missive to the 
Messrs: the eggs ARE NOT TO BE DESTROYED. The men who 
have destroyed the eggs have all ended up dead, forgotten, and 
now, | almost fear for Marsh. 


June 12th 
| shall be returning 
Night 


One of them attacked the camp today, in broad daylight. | write this 
at the telegraph station, having sent a missive to London. We were 
scattered, but only one has died. | believe Marsh to be alive. 


A worker got in an argument with Marsh over pay, saying that he 
should be paid more if they were at risk of death— the idiot failed to 
read the contract. He struck Marsh, which led to a scuffle, and then, 
he took up one of the eggs and threw it at Marsh. As the embryo slid 
down the paleontologist's face, chaos erupted. 


A small pack of the ghastly dinosaurs had erupted from the ground, 
their silvery, half-solid forms almost impossible to see in the blinding 
western sun. They leapt upon the man, a multitude, and their forms 
did nothing to obscure the carnage. His soul was removed from his 
body, and devoured. | heard his final scream as he faded into 
nothingness, and this sound will remain with me forever. 


In the confusion, | managed to pilfer a case of eggs and flee the 
camp, after injecting Marsh with some of the serum, and pouring the 
rest into the water. Carlin has met me in the trading post, as we 
intend to hire a mail cart to send them back to Cheyenne, and from 
there, by train, to New York, and to London by boat. 


June 17th 


In New York, about to board a ship. Lost the journal on the train, 
have only now found it in my luggage. The shipment is also on 
board. 


The Messrs have instructed me to dispose of this journal when my 
report is complete, which it is, tucked in my case. | have left it 
in the care of Sam Williston, a cousin of mine and another agent, 
with the instructions to take care of it. 


Samuel, | know that Marsh is a close friend of yours, even with your 
duties, but | beg you: observe him more closely. If you, he, or 
anyone else find any of the eggs, stop them from being destroyed. 
Ship them to somewhere safe. | do not know if their influence 
extends outside of Wyoming, nor do | care to find out. 


A Keter Kinda Christmas 


Fade in on a well-appointed living room in a log cabin, with 
bookshelves, easy chairs, coffee tables, and a green screen in back 
showing a blazing fireplace and a window through which a snowy 
winter's night can be seen. Dr. Bright, wearing a hand-knitted wool 
Christmas sweater over his shirt and tie, with SCP-963 dangling on 
a chain over it, is puttering about hanging decorations and arranging 
hors d'ouevres on a large table, when he stops and looks at the 
camera. 


Dr. Bright: Oh! | didn't hear you come in. Welcome to Casa de 
Bright. | was just getting ready to host one real hum-dinger of a 
holiday celebration! There's going to be stories, songs, comedy - 
and who knows who'll show up! Stick around, won't you? 


An instrumental version of "Jingle Bells" plays as the title card 
flashes on the screen: AKETER KINDA CHRISTMAS, starring 
Jack Bright and the SCP Players 


Narrator (SCP-1965): A Keter Kinda Christmas is brought to you by 
the Shark Punching Center; 


J] When you need a shark punched right away 
1) Call 555-6412 today! 1 


...And by Dr. Wondertainment's Spider Party; just add water for 
eighty thousand legs worth of arachnoFUNbia! (Parental supervision 
required. Your definition of arachnofunbia may differ from that used 
by Dr. Wondertainment. Avoid use of this product if you are sensitive 
to spider venom. Not for use in households with pets or which are 
situated on reclaimed toxic waste dumps and/or Indian burial 
grounds. Dr. Wondertainment is not responsible for any cases of 
spideritis, spiderosis, or spidermania caused by use of this product. 
Not to be used for gambling purposes without the express written 
consent of Dr. Wondertainment.) 


...And by a special grant from the Manna Charitable Foundation. 


Fade in on a group of animals belonging to SCP-1845: a fox (King 
Eugenio), a raccoon, a crow, a baby pig, and a chicken, with several 
others - which have been dressed in Nativity scene costumes and 
are standing in front of a manger. Voiceovers are provided as the 
camera close-ups on them. 


Chicken: Where is he that is born king of the Jews? For we have 
seen his star in the east, and are come to... come to... line? 


King Eugenio: For the last time, to adore him, you foolish peasant! 


Chicken: Sorry, my lord. It's hard to memorize lines when you can't 
hold a script, you know! 


Eugenio: We have no time for your petty excuses! Dr. Bright 
expects us to put on a Nativity story for his Christmas party, and we 
shall not be made fools of by your bumbling! 


Piglet: Well, how come you get to be the baby Jesus? You're not 
even the right age! 


Eugenio: Because the Lord has appointed us king of this realm, and 
as His elect it is only fitting that we sit in the place of honor and... 


Piglet: You just don't wanna have to remember any lines! 


Eugenio: You impudent knave! We ought to cut you down where 
you stand! 


Crow: Please, your majesty, spare the lad. He's just a child - and it 
is Christmas, after all! 


Eugenio: Very well. Keep rehearsing! We expect nothing less than 
perfection when our scene comes! We shall be napping in the next 
room. 


The camera follows Eugenio as he trots out into a darkened 
chamber and settles down on a pet bed. Just as he is preparing to 


close his eyes, the door shakes and a red and white "YIELD" sign 
(SCP-329-J) floats in. 


Sign: Oooo0000000000000000h! Awaken, Eugenio! 


Eugenio: What the... what is this madness? Identify yourself, you 
varlet! 


Past! And tonight, my brothers and | have come to show you the 


errrrrrrrrror of your wayyyyyyyyyyyyyyys! 
Ooo00000000000000000000000h! 


The title card flashes: TO BE CONTINUED. 


Fade in on Dr. Bright in the parlor, singing to himself. 


Dr. Bright: 2) God rest ye merry Foundation, let nothing ye dismay 
J) 

J) Remember that O5-13 was born on Christmas Day 5 

J) To save us all from Keter duty when we were lead astray J) 

I) O tidings of Euclid and Safe, Euclid and Safe J) 


The doorbell rings. Dr. Bright looks at the camera. 
Why, that must be my first guest! 


Dr. Bright opens the door to reveal three people standing there; Dr. 
Gears, wearing a hand-knitted wool Christmas sweater under his lab 
coat, a mustashioed man wearing a sailor's cap and a hana-knitted 
wool Christmas sweater under his Navy blue blazer, and a blonde 
woman wearing a hand-knitted wool Christmas evening gown. 


Why, it's my good friend, Dr. Gears! 
Applause. Gears does not smile or acknowledge it in any way. 


And his special celebrity guests for the evening, '70s pop sensations 
the Captain and Tennille! 


Applause. Captain and Tennille wave to the camera as the three 
step in. 


Dr. Gears: It was most generous of you to invite us to your holiday 
function. | hope my choice of guests has not caused any 
inconvenience. 


Dr. Bright: None at all, old friend! How are you hip young cats doing 
tonight? 


Captain: We're doing great, thanks. You know, it's a real honor to 
finally be invited on your show tonight. 


Tennille: I've never been as excited as | am to be on A Keter Kinda 
Christmas for the very first time! 


Dr. Bright: Actually, this is the third straight year you've been on the 
show! 


Dr. Bright holds up a bottle labeled "Class-A Amnesiacs" and winks 
at the audience. Laughter. 


Perhaps you'd like to play a little song for everyone at home? 


Captain: Sure thing, doc. Here's a little something we wrote 
especially for the show. 


Captain walks up to a keyboard which was not previously on the set 
and begins playing as Bright hands Tennille a microphone and she 
begins to sing. 


Tennille: 1) Silent night, [REDACTED] night 2 

2) Allis calm, all is [DATA EXPUNGED] 2 

Rond yon Site-19, Staff and D-Class J) 

I) [REDACTEDJ's escaped again, let's kick its [EXPLETIVE 
DELETED] 1 

J) Sleep in amnesiac peace, sleep in amnesiac peace J] 


Fade in on SCP-1192 (Timmy) standing on its perch, staring 
wistfully at a photo sitting on a table, showing a man, a woman, and 


oviposition: it makes an incision no longer than 3 cm, and the host is 
paralysed and/or comatose for several hours until the wound can 
heal sufficiently. Injected along with the eggs is a polydnavirus 
uniquely adapted to suppress the immune system of mammals, 
analogous to the smaller parasitoid wasps which do the same to 
their caterpillar hosts. 


Female specimens of SCP-772 pose a significant safety hazard, as 
the ovipositor is extremely sharp and manoeuvrable. When 
threatened, females will use this organ as a weapon and stab the 
offender repeatedly. While these wounds are not always fatal, they 
have been reported to be acutely painful, and cases of bone 
penetration have been documented. Although caution should be 
exercised around all specimens of SCP-772, males lack the 
ovipositor which serves as the female’s weapon and method of host 
infiltration. 


Females are capable of reproducing asexually via thelytokous 
parthenogenesis and will do so in the absence of males. SCP-772 
requires a warm, dark, nutrient-rich cavity in which to lay its eggs. It 
habitually deposits eggs in the abdominal subcutaneous fat of large 
mammals, but has been known to utilise subcutaneous fat in other 
regions, including the shoulder, back, hip, thigh, and [DATA 
EXPUNGED]. See extensive testing conducted on D-class 
personnel in Document [ADDITIONAL CLEARANCE REQUIRED]. 
SCP-772 eggs have an incubation period of 4 to 12 days, and length 
of incubation period is speculated to share an inversely proportional 
relationship with levels of host stress hormone. Upon hatching, 
SCP-772 larvae begin their consumption of host tissue, gradually 
working their way into the depths of the host's body. The larvae may 
be easily mistaken for abscesses/tumors, but as SCP-772 
progresses away from the hypodermis, it appears to the observer 
that said abscesses/tumors are diminishing of their own accord. 


SCP-772 was discovered on the fourth of ,19 , when Professor 

, a noted entomologist of University, was found 
disemboweled and partially devoured on his bathroom floor. Several 
adult SCP-772's were found feeding on his remains and that of his 
two cats, indicating that SCP-772 is carnivorous even after pupation. 
Interviews with his colleagues revealed that Professor had 


a young boy in hand-knitted wool Christmas sweaters standing in 
front of a roaring fireplace. SCP-1987-J-1 (Count Rockula) enters, 
wearing a hand-knitted, wool fringe-sleeved open-chested 
Christmas sweater, leather tights, biker boots, and a Fender 
Stratocaster slung over his shoulder. 


Count Rockula: What's the matter, Timmy? 


Timmy: It's almost Christmas and I'm not gonna get to see my 
family. 


Count Rockula: You know, Timmy, sometimes | feel the same way 
this time of year. 


Timmy: But you're the Lord of Ultimate Rockness! I'm just a dumb 
bird. 


Count Rockula: Believe it or not, young man, | wasn't always this 

rockin’. | don't know how many Christmases | spent out on the road 
all by myself. | wrote a little song about it to help myself feel better. 
Would you like to hear it? 


Timmy: Ok. 
Count Rockula: Alright! 


Count Rockula walks up to a mic stand and strums a power chord 
on his guitar. 


Are you ready to rock? 

Cheering. 

| CAN'T HEAR YOU! 

Louder cheering. Count Rockula begins wailing on his guitar. 


2) | will rock your Christmas J 

2) You can jam with me 4 

J) Please have blow, and camel toe J) 
J) And groupies under the tree J 

J) Christmas Eve will find me 4 


J] Where the red light gleams J) 

(Yeah, all the ladies know what I'm talkin' 'bout) 
2) | will rock your Christmas J 

1) If only in your dreams! Jj