It's not just a spur of the moment type thing. You guys know what 
happened to Harold? | saw some of you stop by every once in a 
while, checking up on the poor guy. He never did get better. Over 
the years he just grew more pale, skinnier. His hair fell out and 
vanished. | was with him until the end. He just sort of faded away, 
without saying a word. Now it’s happening to Mike, and I’m afraid 
he’s going to just fade away too. What happens when it starts 
happening to James, or you, or me? What do we do then? Do we 
keep fighting amongst ourselves until we’re all gone? 


It’s not ‘just our time’. 


It's the blood, see? The janitors come around every long while, and 
we've thought that they just touch it up, make sure it’s fixed up and 
nice. But we’re wrong. They’re adding imperfections, it’s starting to 
do a bit of a worse job keeping us grounded. Don’t you notice you’re 
getting weaker lately? Hauling those chains and slitting those throats 
is getting a little harder, ain’t it? Affecting some of us more than 
others, but it is getting to us all. And that’s why we need to fight back 
against them. They’re not just keeping us here, making sure that we 


don’t escape. They’re killin’ us, ever so slowly. | don’t know how we 
can die a second death, but apparently we can, and | don’t want to 
let that happen to any more of us. 


| can’t believe you'd say that it might be a good thing. You think just 
fading away into nothing is a good thing? 


No, there ain’t Heaven for us. Don’t you remember what you did to 
land you here? And you think that the big man would give you a 
break and let you pass the pearly gates just because some asshole 
decided to keep you locked up longer than you were supposed to? 
At least if we put up a fight we get a chance, a hope for freedom. 
Even this place is better than eternal fire and brimstone. | want to 
see the sun again some day. Harold did, too, but now he’s never 
going to see it and it’s all because of them. Don’t you want to see 
the face of your family, feel a cool breeze? Well too bad, pack up 
your bags because we’re going to hell! And that’s how it’s going to 
be if we don’t find a way to get some changes around here. 


Look, | don’t expect us to somehow magically obtain livelihoods 
away from that electric chair, but at least we can stop ourselves from 
fading into nothing. They have numbers, and they’re big, and they’re 
strong, but we’ve got nothing to lose. Even if we don’t succeed in 
getting away from this place, maybe they'll feel one giant punch 
instead of all these small ones. Maybe we can force them to change. 
Maybe one day I'll finally see the sun again, and maybe one day you 
will too. But that's only if we bring the fight to them. 


What I’m proposing? Well I’m proposing we have ourselves a prison 
riot. 


SCP Involved: SCP-450 

Personnel Involved: Site-18 Security 
Date: 08/26/2007 

Location: : 


On 08/26/2007, at approximately 15:26, during the 
routine cleaning and maintenance of SCP-450, all staff 
performing janitorial duties were simultaneously targeted 
by SCP-450’s anomalous effects. All personnel suffered 
wounds consistent with repeated stabbing by makeshift 


weapons, and perished shortly thereafter. For the first 
time since its containment, SCP-450 activity spread 
beyond its containment area. Several fires were started 
in the prison’s courtyard. Specter activity began affecting 
those not present in the death row section of the prison. 
Among the on-site staff, there were 12 casualties, 14 
fatalities, and 4 unharmed personnel. 


SCP-450 activity came under control following the arrival 
of the SWAT team. Foundation casualties claim 
that SWAT team intervention allowed their 
survival. Security camera footage corroborates these 
claims. Mobile Task Force Pi-2 arrived at 22:33 and 
extracted casualties, successfully re-containing SCP-450 
at 01:22 of the following morning. Debriefing of MTF Pi-2 
agents indicates that during its arrival they observed a 
number of officers surrounding the facility, but were 
unable to apprehend any due to evacuation concerns. It 
should be noted that the SWAT team has been 
disbanded since 1973, and of its original members, 
only are still living. 


SCP-450 activity is in decline following incident 
450-2242-12. 


By One lota 


Deep in the catacombs beneath Overwatch Cathedral, there was a 
cavernous and isolated chamber at the end of a long hallway. The 
historians of the Holy Foundation could only guess at what purpose 
it might have held before the Great Breach - some claimed it had 
been a storage room, some an auditorium, some a shelter, others 
the containment chamber of one of the demons the ancients had 
contained before the world was consumed. No sound penetrated its 
walls, and it took five strong men to open or close the mighty steel 
door (which not everyone agreed had originally been part of the 
room) that offered the only means of entrance or exit. Few but the 
highest ranking members of the clergy knew it even existed, let 
alone the path to reach it, and none could breach its doors but by 
satisfying the Omega Guard that they had a right to be there, for this 
was the heart of the Overwatch itself - the meeting place of the 
Council of Thirteen, the Doctors of the Church, the vicars of Bright. 


As one passed through the grand doorway, he would see all three 
walls before him covered with grand tapestries, sewn over decades 
by the D-Caste and the deacons who oversaw their work at 
portraying the history of the Holy Foundation. On the left wall, the 
tapestries portrayed the legends of the ancient world, before the 
Great Breach. St. Alto staring down the great dragon and feeding 
the multitudes from a steaming pot of soup, St. Konn the Vampire- 
Slayer testing his steel against the duke of the strigoi, St. Canis 
Corvin educating the False War-God, and in the center of the wall 
the First Resurrection of the Lord Bright, holding the Holy Amulet 
above His head. To the right, the tapestries depicted the Great 
Breach and the degradations that occurred in those days, the fall of 
the ancient temple, and the rising of the Holy Foundation, with the 
Lord Bright, again in the center of the wall, flanked by His saints as 
they stood triumphantly over the corpse of the great dragon and the 
rubble of the statue that He Himself had smashed to bits in his rage 
over the death of St. Agatha. On the opposite wall, the art portrayed 
the Holy Foundation as it existed today - educating the civilians, 


carrying word of the Holy Containment Procedures to all corners of 
the world, keeping the ancient evils sealed. In the center of that wall 
was the hope for the future - a shining silver city, greater than any 
that had stood before the breach, over which Lord Bright looked with 
asmile. 


Beneath this tapestry, there sat against a wall a great throne of 
mahogany and leather, decorated with gems and holy icons, 
preserved and restored throughout the centuries for the Father of 
the Foundation, His Holiness the Lord Jack Bright, whose amulet sat 
in a glass case upon the throne in His stead. Thirteen lesser chairs 
before thirteen desks sat arranged in a semicircle facing the chair. 
Today, ten of the chairs were occupied by old men and women, the 
Cardinal Doctors who had given their lives in service and risen 
through the ranks of the church to become members of the Council 
of Thirteen. Two of the Omega Guard flanked the door to ensure 
that none trespassed on the meeting. One of the men near the left 
end of the semicircle rose and spoke to the others. 


"|, the Second," he said, for in this chamber it was their custom to 
refer to themselves by number rather than name, "hereby call this 
meeting of the Council of Thirteen to order in the name of the First, 
who has passed away this last winter and is absent. Cardinal 
Doctors Two, Three, Four, Six, Seven, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, 
and Thirteen present. The Twelfth has agreed to lead us in prayer." 


The Second seated himself as the Twelfth rose from her seat and 
bowed her head. "Lord Bright," she began as the others lowered 
their heads as well, "forgive us today for the transgression we are 
about to commit against You. Know that we mean no disgrace or 
disrespect in our hearts, and that we commit these deeds to 
understand Your glory and to further carry out Your will, as we do in 
all things. Forgive those who serve us today and take part in these 
acts at our orders, for they seek only to serve and to honor You and 
Your Foundation. Bless us with Your wisdom and keep us safe, that 
our children may know a world free from the terrors of the 
Expunged. Amen." 


"Amen," the other nine agreed as the Twelfth seated herself. A 
moment passed in silence as each of the ten waited for one of the 
others to take action, for it had been over a hundred years since the 


Council of Thirteen last found this course of action necessary, and 
though they had all agreed it was the only way, each of them had 
their doubts. 


"Perhaps," suggested the Sixth timidly, "we should conduct the vote 
once more before we begin?" 


"Indeed," the Second said. "It would be a shame to discover too late 
that this proceeding is unnecessary. Please cast your votes on the 
question at hand in the traditional manner." One of the guardsmen 
left his post at the door and picked up a large box with a slot on top. 
As he walked around the table, each of the cardinals wrote their vote 
on a slip of paper and dropped it into the box. After a few minutes 
had passed, the guardsman returned to the door and opened the 
box, where he and his partner removed the slips and tallied the 
votes one by one. 


"The vote remains tied," announced the guardsman. "Five for one, 
five for the other." 


"Then we must proceed," the Second said, "and Bright have mercy 
on us all. Guard! Our guests may enter now." 


The guardsman approached the door and knocked on it in the 
agreed-upon pattern - three short knocks in rapid succession, 
followed after a brief pause by a hard knock, a short knock, another 
hard knock, and another short knock, followed after another pause 
by a short knock, two hard knocks, and a short knock. The door 
rumbled and opened slowly as it was pushed from the other side. A 
half dozen Omega Guards entered - two carrying a table between 
them, two carrying several heavy chains and ropes, and the other 
two leading a D-Caste, stripped to his loincloth. The D-Caste had 
been specially prepared for the day's ritual - starved and emaciated, 
his teeth pulled and fingernails removed, and he looked to the 
assembled cardinals only a few days away from death. The 
assembled leaders of the Holy Foundation watched in silence as the 
table was set between the semicircle of desks and the throne, the D- 
Caste was laid on it and bound with the chains, and the guardsmen 
pulled the hoods of their black robes over their heads and tied them 
closed so that only their eyes were visible. 


SCP-806: Resurrection Projection 


Item #: SCP-806 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-806 is to be kept sealed in 
Containment Locker 8 at Bio-Site-66. Researchers interested in 
utilizing the item are to contact Dr. Bridge for an interview. 


SCP-806-1-a has been given a standard humanoid containment 
suite at Bio Site-66. SCP-806-a is permitted Level-0 clearance, if 
supervised by at least one (1) Level-1 personnel at all times. 


SCP-806-1 may only be created upon explicit written approval by 
both Dr Bridge and Dr Seidelman of Site-66, or O-5 approval. 


Description: SCP-806 is a large, modified film projector, originally 
built circa 1900. The item’s lens has been replaced with one 
constructed of several dozen thin layers of shaved precious stones 
and as of yet unidentified materials. The original projection bulb has 
been replaced by an LED array. Originally built for 35mm film, most 
inner mechanisms have been retrofitted with similar components of 
various complex alloys. These modifications also allow for most film 
sizes to be played. Additional mechanisms have been installed, 
allowing for multiple spools of film to be played through the item 
without interruption. 


When active, SCP-806 creates biological material through an 
unknown process, which arranges itself in a manner that recreates a 
nude “copy” of a deceased subject in the open space before the 
screen, as they were at the time of the latest recording used. 123 


Matter produced through this effect appears to first manifest as 
needle-thin rays of light projected from the lens. It creates no 
shadow or effect on the films being played, and appears to become 
biological matter at the point that it touches the forming human 


"Do you know why you have been brought here today, 
D-34029132?" asked the Thirteenth. 


"Yes, my lord," replied the bound man. 
"And have you agreed to this rite willingly?" 
"Yes, my lord." 


"Are you ready to give up your life in the name of your church and 
your Lord?" 


The D-Caste paused. "Yes, my lord." 


The Thirteenth turned his gaze to the guardsmen. "Make sure the 
ropes and chains remain taut and that he does not attempt to hurt 
himself. If you must restrain him physically, do not hesitate to do so. 
There is no sin in any of the actions you have been asked to perform 
today - and though He may test you with His cries and protestations, 
remember that the Lord loves you and will forgive you." 


The Second nodded. "Now, please proceed.” The cardinals rose 
from their seats and watched attentively as five of the guards took 
their places around the D-Caste. The sixth guard approached the 
throne and reverently picked up the glass case containing the Lord 
Bright's amulet before taking his own place at the head of the table. 
Another guardsman reached out and removed the top from the 
case. As the other five tucked their hands into their robes to prevent 
any accidental contact, the guard holding the case turned it upside 
down, and the Holy Amulet fell out and landed on the chained man's 
chest. 


The late Cardinal Doctor Anders Clef, who had been present when 
the Lord Bright was summoned to the Synod of New Denver in 237, 
had written in his memoirs that the expression on His face when He 
appeared was always one of confusion - the shock of finding Himself 
in a new host, and trying to figure out where and when He had found 
Himself. None of the men and women watching would have 
disagreed with that assessment, for no sooner did the Holy Amulet 
strike the D-Caste than his demeanor changed. The chained man 
groaned and tried to pull at his bonds to no avail, his eyes darting 


around the room as he took in the people and decorations around 
him. The cardinals watched in silence as he tried to bite off his 
tongue, dislocate his joints, break his limbs by bashing them against 
the table - all in vain, courtesy of the amendments made to the Holy 
Procedures centuries ago to prevent the Lord Bright from taking His 
leave if His earthly presence was required. As He resigned himself 
to being once again in a body of flesh and bone, He set his eyes on 
the Ninth, who had produced from his robes a scroll bearing the 
holiest of the Holy Procedures, those relating to the Amulet itself, 
and He spoke. 


"| like what you've done with the cafeteria." 


"Could you please tell me your name?" asked the Ninth, reading 
from the scroll. "| believe you are Tom Higly, working for us as part 
of your life sentence." 


"Cut the crap," the chained man said with a sigh. "You know who | 
am, and you know I've been through this little ceremony enough 
times to wish I'd never come up with it." 


The Ninth looked to his compatriots, who nodded their agreement 
that they could proceed. "The rite is successful!" he proclaimed. 
"Praise be to the Lord Bright!"