Drugs are drugs, right? Still, don't go jumping into some goddamn hole in the floor. High as balls or not.


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⚠️ Content warning: This article contains sensitive topics such as body horror, neurodegenerative dysfunction, depersonalization/derealization, heavy language, and illicit drug use. Please exercise best judgement when deciding whether or not to proceed.
with love, billith
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One variation of SCP-3335's chemical structure. Compound proved impossible to replicate in Foundation laboratories.

Item #: SCP-3335
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: Due to the popularity of SCP-3335, it is currently considered uncontained in certain dense population centers of the world. Foundation agents inserted into various underground trade markets of the substance are to monitor the use and distribution of SCP-3335. Clandestine laboratories are to be expunged of all compounds bearing resemblance to the anomalous chemical structures seen via SCP-3335's gas chromatography and mass spectrometry testing.
Sensationalist media is to be distributed through routine drug scare tactics, while other outlets are to be manipulated in order to mitigate further damage to major populace centers. Containment of information relating to SCP-3335's anomalous properties has proved successful in most situations, as the usual "War on Drugs" methodologies are still effective in the self-containment of the compound. Amnestic application has proved capable of handling most other cases.
As of 2018, SCP-3335's global trade markets and laboratories have been reduced by approximately 85% from 2003. Despite this, there are assumed to be several operations still producing SCP-3335 to this day.
Foundation interception of large-scale distribution efforts and the eradication of affected individuals are considered top priorities at this time.
Description: SCP-3335 is an off-white compound similar in appearance to flour. It is a hallucinogenic substance of Arylcyclohexylamine structure, with effects similar to other NMDA Antagonists, such as those of phencyclidine (PCP) and its derivatives.
Analysis of SCP-3335 samples have proven to be not useful, many of which have resulted in conflicting or inconclusive outcomes. Material Safety Data Sheets (MSDS) procured during testing have effectively culminated in various erroneous information. These outcomes imply an inconsistent or variable chemical structure. It is unknown how synthesis of this compound is accomplished, and is likely anomalous in nature.
Since the time of its surfacing and detection via Foundation operatives, over 0.5% of the Earth's population have willingly consumed SCP-3335 for recreational purposes.
SCP-3335 exhibits a large array of effects, most of which are common to substances of its kind. These effects include, but are not limited to:

Euphoria/Sense of serenity
Closed and open-eye visual hallucinations
Analgesia, numbness
Significant change in perception of time (Dilation and constriction)
Confusion/disorientation, delirium
"Hole" experiences
Intense mind-body dissociation, out-of-body experiences
Ambulatory psychotic behavior
Paranoia
Nausea, vomiting
Psychological dependency/addiction, compulsive dosing
Frightening or untimely distortion or loss in sensory perception

In addition to the above, SCP-3335 exhibits henceforth unrecorded anomalous effects that deviate highly from those of its more explainable analogues, including personality changes, photosensitivity and hematophagy of themselves or others with SCP-3335 still present in the bloodstream, so as to mimic titration and encourage propagation of the compound.
Toxicity reports of affected individuals reveal a consistent low-level blood content of SCP-3335 that does not appear to dissipate nor filter out of the body through the kidneys. Dialysis treatments are ineffective in hindering the production of SCP-3335 in the body. It is theorized that SCP-3335 may cause lasting changes in physiology that aid in the endogenous synthesis of the chemical.
Due to the inability to remove SCP-3335 from the bloodstream and treat affected individuals, widespread use supports theorized potential for large-scale LK-Class Personality Transmutation Events. As such, experimentation and thaumaturgic use is currently halted, per O5 request.
Incident Log 3335.1: On ██/██/████, an unknown portion of civilians in the New York City area that were known users of SCP-3335 became comatose (now SCP-3335-1). According to eyewitness reports by other users of SCP-3335, prior to this, victims were seen staring at a "hole" in the ground. Subjects that walked to this area immediately syncopated without warning. All affected subjects have remained comatose since the event.
Incident Log 3335.2: More individuals continue to experience this phenomenon. The O5 council holds a conference after the number of unconscious individuals surpasses ten thousand. Widespread amnestic dispersal is considered and approved if situation worsens.
Addendum 3335.1: Interview Logs

+ Access Interview Log 3335-1A

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Interview Log 3335-1A
Interviewee: Steven ████████
Interviewer: Agent Francis █████, stationed NYPD Officer
Notes: This interview was conducted after a Foundation-staged raid of ███████ ████, a popular nightclub in downtown NYC, several days after the events of Incident 3335.1. Apprehended individual was a known source of SCP-3335, although said person was not involved in synthesis or large import distribution of the compound.
Interviewee was highly distressed upon Foundation interception, but was released after application of Class-B Amnestics post-interview.

<BEGIN LOG>
████████: Look, man, I don't know anything about this stuff, okay? I was told it was still legal in the area, yeah? I-I need a lawyer or something, right? Someone give me a lawyer.
Agent Francis: Hey, now- Take it easy. You aren't in any trouble here. I just gotta ask you a few questions about what you were selling over at ███████ ████. Plain and simple.
████████: Yeah, okay. You're the good cop, right? Nice uniform for an officer, but I'm not saying anything.
Agent Francis: (sighs) Look, I'm serious. You answer my questions, you walk free this evening. Otherwise, I'll have to throw you in a tank for the night. You don't have any prior convictions, you're mostly clean otherwise. This can be over in an hour if you just answer truthfully and to the best of your ability. I'm not here to charge you for distribution.
████████: (pauses) You're serious?
Agent Francis: Yeah. So, let me get this straight. You got this, uh, what are you kids calling it on the streets now?
████████: My boy's over in the Bronx calling it 'Strangeluv' or some shit. I don't know much about it, okay? I call it end's meet.
Agent Francis: Alright. So, you got this stuff from where, exactly? Your friend over in the Bronx?
████████: Nah, man, I ain't about to put a fucking target on my head. Same as anyone else, probably. Ask them.
Agent Francis: We can offer witness protection if you're fearing for your life. It would be wise of you to cooperate in exchange for a reduced sentence-
████████: I thought you said I wasn't in trouble.
Agent Francis: That was before you withheld the identity of your contact. (indicates towards microphone)
████████: Oh, fuck. No, I don't know who it was! But I was told I'd be in the ground if I even mentioned him- ah, fuck, not again.
Agent Francis: So, likely male.
████████: Stop doing that! Look, I don't know what he looks like, I never saw the guy, okay? I swear, he contacted me on Whisper!1 I picked up through a dead drop. No cash changes hands, I don't fuckin' know anything else!
Agent Francis: Okay, okay. I believe you. So, how did you complete your buy if no cash changed hands? Something anonymous as well I imagine, crypto?
████████: Nah man, I can't be fucked to figure that e-currency shit out. Didn't have to anyway, it was a freebie. I'm not stupid though, I know he wasn't doing it to be kind. Besides, hardly anyone out there that'd touch something they or they friends ain't familiar with. Calling it fent two-point-oh.2 I was right there with 'em for the most part until remembered I got this nifty little thing with droppers, a regency[sic] test or whatever.
Agent Francis: You mean a reagent test. A testing kit.
████████: Yeah, yeah! That shit. I'm all about harm reduction.
Agent Francis: Mhm. So, the test results?
████████: Right, sorry. Yeah, the thing never even changed color. That was good enough for some though, since that meant it wasn't fent.
Agent Francis: Was it good enough for you?
████████: Tried it once I saw it wasn't killing nobody. I know that's not illegal. My body, my choice, right?
Agent Francis: Of course, like I said, there's no trouble for you tonight, as long as you answer the questions. Only a few left.
████████: Uh-huh.
Agent Francis: So, what was it like?
████████: What, you want some? (laughs) I don't know, man. It's hard to explain. Not to be that guy, but you have to try it to know what it's like, okay? It's weird shit, man.
Agent Francis: Just do your best. I was your age once, you know.
████████: (scoffs) Yeah, I get it. Trying to be all chummy. Thinking I'm gonna relate, that y'all tried the same shit when you was young, yeah? Well, not this. I know the scene, some of you been around the block before you got your badge. I respect the hustle, but this is something new. They got scientists or some shit working on this stuff. I know fuck all when it comes to cooking up the designer shit, and this's as designer as it gets.
Agent Francis: Right, so you're unable to describe the positive effects of the drug at all?
████████: (sighs) Let me think. Okay, so they had this shit called 'roflcoptr',3 years back, lame-ass name if you ask me, but that stuff was fire. It was like you were walking around with your body just laying there, you know? It's kinda like that. Got this magical quality to it, warm. Took it once and it was like I went to another place entirely. With that rofl shit, you knew you was fucked up. Knew it was a drug, right? This was different. Same deal, I saw myself laying there on that fuckin' futon. But it was like I could walk away and never come back. Nice feeling. Don't have to deal with none of this shit that's happening out there in the world right now. Got that free roam. My body could be cut to shit and I could care less because, fuck it, right?
Agent Francis: Sounds nice.
████████: Yeah it does. But whatever you're thinking doesn't even come close. Too bad you snap back after a couple hours, you know? It pulls you right back in. Like a dream, I guess. Gotta wake up sometime.
Agent Francis: I understand. Now, a couple of people have been found comatose because of this drug, you know anything about that?
████████: Yeah, I saw the news, not my people though. Nobody got hurt from my deals, probably some asshole who cut it with something nasty.
Agent Francis: Actually, all of their tox reports came back and there was nothing unusual in their systems. So, what's the difference? Maybe this stuff isn't as safe as you might have thought.
████████: Fuck if I know, man. The stuff I sold was clean. I'm not about to fuck anyone over, I'm just trying to get by. Maybe they just OD'd, you know? I didn't kill anyone, okay? You know what, I'm not saying anything else. Get me a lawyer, okay?
Agent Francis: That isn't possible. Just relax, you'll be able to head home shortly.
████████: (exhales) 'ight, okay. This is not how y'all do things from my experience.
Agent Francis: (clears throat) Have you noticed anyone acting odd or abnormal? Your buyers? Friends?
████████: Hm, you know what? There was something someone said, this young girl. Blonde. Didn't look the type. She said something about a hole. Heard it before, but she said some weird shit. Got me all messed up for a bit. Sold her some anyway, money's always green, right?
Agent Francis: What did she say?
████████: She said that next time, she was gonna jump into it for real. Weirded me the fuck out. Drugs are drugs, right? Still, don't go jumping into some goddamn hole in the floor. High as balls or not. Can I leave? I'm tired, man.
Agent Francis: Alright. One last thing.
████████: (groans) Okay, what?
Agent Francis: Did you ever see this so-called 'hole'?
████████: (pauses) I think so. Took a few bumps at a party and it caught my eye. Looked dark as fuck. Wouldn't jump in if I had the choice. Well, I mean, part of me said go on, you know? 'You smoke crack on the streets, what's some shit you're seeing gonna do to you that's worse than what rock has on you?' I'm sure you see them crackheads out there all the time, itching themselves, doing god-knows-what for a little piece of that cook-up. But this? Nah, man. I just felt something bad, something real bad. I dunno, man. I told myself I was tripping out, but that hole seemed like a one-way trip, if you know what I'm saying.
Agent Francis: I see. Alright, that just about covers it. You're good to go. Thank you for your cooperation.
████████: Really? I'm just gonna walk? That's that?
Agent Francis: Yep, that's that. (to the guard) Get this kid some forget-me-nows.
████████: Some what?
<END LOG>
Note: The day following this interview, subject's unconscious body was discovered in critical condition within a drainage ditch alongside the New Jersey turnpike. He was transported to a nearby ICU, though he succumbed to blood loss before arrival, as ████████'s blood was not present at the time of his recovery.

Incident Log 3335.3:
As of ██/█/████, multiple cases have been reported of SCP-3335-1 instances re-awakening with substantial alterations in personality and physiology. Extreme mood swings, visceral reaction to sensory input of any kind, along with overwhelming compulsions to isolate in small spaces with other SCP-3335-1 instances have been observed.
Affected individuals have shown marked increase of adrenaline and cortisol present in blood testing, as well as a higher blood concentration of SCP-3335.
Electroencephalography tests yielded unusual patterns of electrical activity in the brains of SCP-3335-1 instances, similar in effects to those who have undergone partial corpus callostomy procedures. As a result, many subjects develop symptoms similar to, but notably different from, callosal disconnection syndrome, also known as "split-brain" disorder.
When a subject appears to have acquired symptoms of callosal disconnection syndrome, hemispheres of the brain take on unique attributes of their own. This results in separate impulses and perceptions for both halves of the subject's body.
Unlike usual cases of callosal disconnection, both hemispheres of affected victims develop their own consciousness, one half of which may usually retain some personality traits of the original individual with extreme emotional dampening and lethargy. The other half seems to be occupied by a unique consciousness. These personalities are highly erratic and self-destructive, often participating in greivous self-hematophagy to the point of expiration.

+ Access Interview Log 3335-1B

- Hide Log

Interview Log 3335-1B
Interviewee: SCP-3335-1, formerly known as ██████ ███████
Interviewer: Dr. Brenard █████, Foundation psychologist
Note: This interview was conducted at the ██████ Valley Hospital in ████, Minnesota.

<BEGIN LOG>
Dr. █████: So, SCP-3335-1, how are we feeling today?
SCP-3335-1: What did you call me? My name is ██████. I'm doing okay, I guess. Feel a little weird. Can you get these restraints off? Seems a little excessive.
Dr. █████: Er, of course, my apologies. ██████ it is. And yes, soon. You had a minor psychotic break, we had to place you in a medically-induced coma.
SCP-3335-1: The last thing I remember was feeling like I was falling down a dark tunnel.
Dr. █████: It's not uncommon to feel this way when you lose consciousness. How do you feel right now?
SCP-3335-1: Well, not too sober. Better than before, but still feeling a bit off.
Dr. █████: Please, explain.
SCP-3335-1: Um, well, to be honest, I feel out of it. Like my body isn't working the way I want it to. Sometimes I'm good, sometimes not. Really tired. Feeling a little numb, but it'll pass, right?
Dr. █████: I'm sure it will, can you elaborate a bit?
SCP-3335-1: You know, sometimes I don't feel like myself, if that makes sense. Feel like somebody else. Somebody- uh, does that make sense? Does that make sense? Does—uh—Doess, Does ummm—huh?
Subject speech slurs as he starts to mumble incoherently. The patient's eyes lose focus and skew slightly, his form slumping back in the hospital bed. It is assumed that SCP-3335-1's alternate consciousness is currently taking control over subject's speech functions.
Dr. █████: ██████, are you alright? I didn't quite catch that.
SCP-3335-1: Who? Want (incoherent).
Dr. █████: I'm sorry. What did you say?
SCP-3335-1: Out. Want out.
Dr. █████: What do you want out of, ██████?
Subject flexes and moves appendages sporadically, tensing and straining against hospital-provided restraints. He attempts to bring his left arm to his open mouth and the right follows in an apparent attempt to grab the other, giving up on both shortly thereafter.
SCP-3335-1: Hmmmm. Vessel. Bad. (incoherent)

Dr. █████: ██████?
SCP-3335-1: Want out. Get me out.
Dr. █████: It's going to be okay. We'll get you out as soon as you are well.
SCP-3335-1: No. Out vessel. Get me out vessel. Want out vessel. Light. Hurts. Bed. Hurts. Vessel. Hurts. (pause) Why?
Dr. █████: I don't think I know what you are talking about.
SCP-3335-1: Please. Get me out. Hurts.
Dr. █████: What hurts, ██████?
SCP-3335-1: (incoherent) into my mind. Cut into the head. Into the flesh. The bone. Want out. Hurts. Slipping. Farther down. Why?
Subject continues to fight restaints. BPM monitors display severe tachycardia.
Dr. █████: Can you hear me, ██████?
SCP-3335-1: Out! Get me out! Please!
Dr. █████: ██████? Stay with me, okay?
Subject screams in apparent agony. Monitors show heart rate exceeding 240 beats per minute. After a few seconds, subject ceases screaming.
Dr. █████: ██████?
BPM monitors show rapidly stabilizing functions. Subject refuses to respond to stimuli for several minutes. After a period of about fifteen minutes, it is assumed that SCP-3335-1 is now dormant within the subject's psyche.
SCP-3335-1: (groggily) Yeah, uh, so I still feel weird sometimes, is what I was saying. A bit numb, it'll pass though, right?
Dr. █████: I'm sure it will.
<END LOG>

Addendum 3335.5:
Reports of SCP-3335 consumption in ████████, ██ led to an investigation of several known "drug dens" in the area. Foundation field operatives familiar with the territory have been assigned the task of raiding affected homes, terminating users of SCP-3335 and destroying all paraphernalia or lab equipment that may have come into contact with the substance. Records of operations can be found below.

+ Access Field Operations Log 1

- Close

Mission Parameters: Investigate sites of interest and terminate all affected individuals, neutralizing all traces of SCP-3335.
Personnel: Tactical Field Ops. Gamma-7 ("Night Watchmen")4
Additional Information: The following is an audiovisual transcript of a staged raid on an apartment complex in downtown ████████. Members of TFO Gamma-7 were equipped with standard deep-cover tactical wear, including low-profile Kevlar suits and suppression-integrated Maxim 9mm handguns. Agents were posted outside exit points from the apartment complex while Gamma-7 infiltrated the interior.

<BEGIN LOG>
Alpha: Alright, mics on, everybody check in.
Bravo: Bravo here.
Foxtrot: Foxtrot, check.
Echo: Echo, checking in.
Command: Delta? Where's Delta?
Delta: Here, sorry. Setting up the camera. Should be coming live now.
Alpha: We're ready to go. Command, please confirm video feed.
Delta's visual broadcast activates, revealing a run-down urban alleyway leading to the back entrance of the complex. The building has multiple floors, the windows of each have been boarded up with plywood.
Command: Affirmative. You are clear to proceed.
The group is seen swiftly making their way to the door, treading through puddles and various detritus.
Alpha: Alright, we are approaching the entryway. Control, anything we should know about this place?
Command: Multi-unit complex. Old, nearly a hundred years standing. Two stairwells. Residents are mostly lower income individuals. Other than that, your guess is as good as ours.
Delta: Shit, door's locked.
Alpha: I told them they should have got us a dremmel. (sighs) Command, do we have permission to barge the door?
Command: That is not advised. It is very likely to draw attention.
Echo: Wait, I've got it, give me a second.
Delta: What are you-
Bravo: Aha, very good.
Command: Yes?
Alpha: Echo jimmied the lock with his ID badge. Crafty bugger.
Echo: There we are. Let's go.
Gamma-7 quietly enters the building, revealing a dark hallway with four doors on either side. Shoulder mounted flashlights are activated as the power is seemingly shut off.
Alpha: Alright, we've entered the main hallway, I see the stairs up ahead. What is this place, two floors?
Bravo: Three.
Alpha: Should we choose a door?
Delta: Let's try this one on the left, I hear voices.
Audio feed picks up muffled vocalizations. After a few seconds, one of them is seen knocking on the door. The voices grow silent.
Echo: (quietly) You're just going to go up and knock like a gentleman? Real polite.
Bravo: Fuck you, Avery.
Alpha: I don't have time for this.
Alpha is seen twisting the handle and throwing the door open. Camera view is obscured while agents funnel into the room, although a scream is heard, cut short by several suppressed gunshots. View returns, two individuals lying on a broken coffee table. Syringes and wax bags litter the floor.
Alpha: That ought to do it.
Bravo: What the fuck, man. No one said they were our targets! I feel like we would know.
Alpha: They've got the powder, though.
Foxtrot: Nah, see the stamps? That's heroin. And they've got candles. I heard these guys don't like light.
Echo: That was a risky move. Don't be an idiot. Why do you think we're still TFOs? Shit like this. That's why.
Alpha: (sighs) Okay, let's keep moving then.
Silence for fifteen seconds as the group navigates back out into the hallway. Checking the next door over, it is determined to be unlocked but barricaded, and cannot be opened. The same result occurs with the next two. Delta goes to check the opposite side but stops in his tracks.
Delta: You guys hear that?
Muffled, unintelligible screaming can be heard in the distance.
Foxtrot: It's getting louder.
Yelling increases in volume over a period of ten seconds. Soon after, a lone figure is seen running down the stairs. Individual is heavily bandaged around the head and arms and does not acknowledge the existence of the others.
Bravo: We have someone inbound.
Foxtrot: He looks hurt.
Alpha: What's your name?
No response is given, instead, the figure continues to scream and clutch their head.
Delta: What should we do? Look at those bandages. Are you alright?
The screaming ceases abruptly and a loud thump is heard, the figure falling unconscious.
Bravo: Well, that was something.
Command: What is your status?
Alpha: Uh, well, we had an affected individual here, but he just collapsed. He doesn't look dead. Major bandaging on his head, some blood soaked through. Delta is taking a closer look.
Delta: You guys might want to see this.
Echo: What is it?
Bravo: Oh god, what the hell.
Foxtrot: I'm going to be sick.
Delta pulls back the bandaging to reveal uneven stitches and metal pins that run in a circle around the individual's head. The wound is infected and continues to bleed.
Alpha: So, Command, this guy looks messed up. If I had to guess I'd say they tried to put their skull back together. Did a hasty job too, if you ask me.
Delta: Yeah, these sutures look loose-fuck!
The stitching appears to dislodge, the portion of skin and bone falling away, revealing an open hole into his cranial cavity.
Alpha: Fuck, that's awful. I can see inside his head.
Foxtrot: (gagging)
Alpha: What the-
Bravo: Where the fuck is his brain? Where the fuck is it?
Alpha: No, there's some left. Looks like they're missing about half of it. How on earth is this guy still alive?
Bravo: I think it's time we took this a little more seriously, fellas.
Alpha: Let's head up.
Silence for ten seconds, followed by echoing footsteps. The agents are seen approaching the stairwell and ascending to the second floor landing, maneuvering around large boxes and furniture that cover the stairs as a makeshift barricade.
Delta: Hold up.
Alpha: What is it?
Delta: Smell that?
Bravo: Smells like death.
Delta: Blood on the floor. Looks like it leads down the hall.
Alpha: I see it. Weapons ready, everyone.
Foxtrot: Smell is stronger. Ugh, my stomach.
Bravo: Don't be a baby. Watch your step.
Alpha: Alright. Looks like this door is open up here. Bravo, Foxtrot, you come with me. Delta, Echo, check the rest of these doors.
Echo: You got it.
Bravo: Quiet now.
Ambient background noise is picked up for the next thirty seconds. Delta and Echo are seen entering the apartment on the opposite side, revealing it to be empty.
Delta: Clear over here.
Alpha: Okay. Foxtrot, check the bedroom. Bravo, cover the bathroom.
Bravo: Got it.
Foxtrot: We got bodies in here. Shit…
Alpha: More bandaged folk. Are they dead?
Foxtrot: Looks like it. Let me check for pulse.
Bravo: Bathroom is clear. Mirror is smashed though.
Foxtrot: Still alive, shallow breathing though, probably comatose-
A scream is heard, followed by a sharp whine emanating from Foxtrot's microphone.
Foxtrot: You son of a-
Alpha: Get out of the way!
Foxtrot: Fuck, get them off me, ah-
Affected individuals continue screaming, some gurgling is heard. Alpha is heard firing rounds into the figures, although they do not seem deterred.
SCP-3335-1: (in unison) Flesh cleaved in two, mind cleaved to one.5
Coughing and sputtering is heard. Delta and Echo rush into the room, the camera revealing Foxtrot underneath two SCP-3335-1 instances, who are pinning him down. Both have the same extensive bandaging.
Bravo: Jesus fuck, this guy is strong!
Foxtrot: (incomprehensible vocalizations)
Delta: What the hell is it doing-
Foxtrot: Shoot them again!
Struggle, gunfire, then quiet. Foxtrot is heard panting.
Bravo: You alright?
Command: Alpha? What happened?
Alpha: Drugheads, came to life without warning. They were all over Foxy here. Damn things were bleeding everywhere. It pinned him down.
Foxtrot: (gagging) It bled in my mouth.
Alpha: What?
Foxtrot: The fucking thing wrung out its wounds in my mouth! Look at the wrists.
Delta: Fuck.
The bandages on the arms of one of the individuals are seen torn away, fresh blood seeping out of deep lacerations on the wrists.
Alpha: Command, please be advised that Foxtrot may have had contact with the chemical agent in question. Likelihood of contamination unknown.
Command: Understood, we are suggesting evac for Foxtrot, followed by standard decontamination procedures.
Alpha: Good plan, let's regroup-
A large commotion is heard from the stairwell, along with sounds of structural collapse. Alpha steps back into the hall briefly to see the boxes and furniture replaced by a cloud of dust. When the particulates settle, it becomes clear that the decrepit stairs have collapsed.
Command: Everything okay in there? Seismic sensors just blipped.
Alpha: Yeah, the stairwell ate it though. You mentioned another?
Command: Opposite end of the building, we'll send some recovery agents into the place to ensure a clear route. (pause) Abernathy says there's a bunch of garbage and furniture in the way, they're working on it as we speak.
Alpha: Yeesh.
Foxtrot: If we have time to kill, we should at least wrap up this floor. I don't want to sit around and wait to turn.
Alpha: You sure?
Foxtrot: Yeah. I'm okay, I'm okay. Let's keep going.
Alpha: Alright. Command, we will continue for now. Keep us posted about egress.
Command: You got it.
Alpha: Let's terminate the rest of these half-brains.
Bravo: Right.
The team moves out into the hallway again, checking the rest of the doors on the floor and revealing them to be empty, aside from one with three unconscious individuals. Several water bottles are littered around them, filled with dark crimson liquid.
Alpha: Damn. At least these will be easy. Keep your distance though.
After termination, the bottles are recovered for analysis. Gamma-7 proceeds to the second stairway and confirms the presence of Anomalous Recovery Agent Abernathy, whose team is waiting on chains and a hoist to dislodge a large safe blocking the first floor path. The group decides to continue progressing onto the top level.
Bravo: I think I know where the smell is coming from, guys.
The third floor landing comes into view, the remains of several individuals piled in the far corner. All appear to have undergone the same head trauma, with varying degrees of repair. Foxtrot is heard vomiting off camera.
Echo: Jesus mate, sensitive stomach much?
Foxtrot: Can't help it, all I can taste is copper and rot.
Echo: Fair point.
Alpha: Have some water, you'll be fine.
Foxtrot: -Fuck! Did you see that?
Camera wheels around to show Foxtrot staring back at the stairwell.
Delta: What? What was it?
Foxtrot: Someone was behind us.
Alpha: Alright, stay alert. Bravo, go ahead and check the stairs. The rest of you, let's start trying doors.
Bravo: You got it, cap.
The agents are seen attempting access to the apartments, but the first three are barricaded.
Bravo: Stairwell clear. Must have run off.
Alpha: Alright no problem, let's try this one-
A scream is heard coming from the far end of the hall, followed by some dampened vocalizations.
Alpha: New plan. Let's go.
The team silently makes their way to the door, which turns out to be locked.
Alpha: Echo, get this lock here.
Echo: Yeah, yeah.
After a moment, Echo bypasses the lock and pushes the door open.
Echo: Oh my god.
Camera comes into the view of the doorway, revealing the floor to be littered with SCP-3335-1 instances, at least twenty. All appear unconscious or dead. Blood coats the ground. In the corner, two individuals are hooked up to IV lines used to siphon blood into buckets. Makeshift chemistry equipment and paraphernalia are noted, as well as a few large containers of powder assumed to be SCP-3335.
Alpha: The hell is this, some sort of hive?
Echo: Looks like they're extracting the stuff using… communal blood buckets.
Delta: God, that's fucking nasty. Let's torch this place and get out of here, I want to go back and take a shower.
Alpha: That's starting to sound like a good idea. Let's finish up, I don't think there is much more to learn here.
Sounds of movement are heard coming from another room in the apartment. Alpha gestures towards it, he and Foxtrot slowly making their way around the bodies and into the bedroom. Alpha is seen crossing the threshold and disappearing out of view. The camera reveals a lone instance of SCP-3335-1 convulsing on the floor.
Alpha: (sighs) Alright. (quietly) Let's douse this place.
Bravo is seen producing a small container of accelerant from his pack. He starts to pour it on the floor but stops when sounds of struggle are heard. Delta's camera spins to see Echo being restrained from behind, his gun now being held to his head. Instance of SCP-3335-1 is seen, this time without bandaging. Instead, a freshly healed scar runs the circumference of his head. He appears more lucid than the others and slowly backs against the wall behind him. The rest of the group raises their weapons at the figure (now designated POI-3335).
POI-3335: Everybody just calm the fuck down. Nice and easy.
Alpha: Let him go!
POI-3335: Nuh-uh. He's my security deposit. Now you guys are going to leave or I'm going to paint the walls with his blood. It'll be a real shame for the both of us considering his blood is of no use to me.
Alpha: What do you want? Who are you?
Alpha: What happened to these people?
POI-3335: Everything is already in motion. You'll join them soon.
Delta: We aren't leaving without him.
POI-3335: Then you've made a mistake.
Instance smiles and flips the switch on the wall with his elbow. A lamp on the corner table comes to life, incandescent light falling over the bodies, which start to stir.
Alpha: Shit, take them down!
Bravo is seen firing at the bodies, some of which appear unfazed. A young woman points at Alpha, her eyes unfocused and skin lightly blue from hypoxia. Alpha then fires several rounds at the instance, which causes her to stagger and moan in pain. She then stands and looks up, holes perforating her face and head, exiting the back as pinkish-red cerebral fluid runs down her cheek. The light of the lamp behind her shines through the hole in her head where her brain should be. She lunges at Alpha. Delta appears to be attacked from behind. As a result, the camera is knocked off his shoulder and is seen hitting the ground, cutting the feed for approximately one minute. Audio broadcasting still functions during this period.
Delta: (muffled scream)
Bravo: Get him, get him.
More gunfire, followed by the sound of falling bodies.
Echo: Delta!
Foxtrot: Fuck, fuck, fuck-
Bravo: You can't-
Video feed is reestablished, the camera now laying on its side. Delta is seen laying on the ground, surrounded by bodies. Another instance of POI-3335 produces a water bottle filled with blood. She unscrews the cap and pours it on Delta's face. Alpha and Bravo are not in frame, although background noise suggests they are in another room. Foxtrot is still pointing his handgun at the instance with Echo.
POI-3335: Go ahead, shoot me. Don't you have a train to catch, though?
Foxtrot: Excuse me?
Foxtrot briefly appears confused, swaying slightly. POI-3335 laughs.
Foxtrot: What is this? Who is this?
POI-3335: Your ride home. Join the family.
Foxtrot becomes aware of something in the room, glancing over and down at the far corner, out of the cameras view. Agent's eyes appear glassy.
Foxtrot: Is that-?
POI-3335: Yes. You hear them too, don't you? Singing. They shed their old flesh for new sinew, uncoiling like a snake in molt. I guide them there. I'll take you there too. You just have to walk through the gate.
Shaking, Foxtrot slowly lowers his gun and moves to the other side of the room. Shortly after this, he is heard collapsing with a loud thump and does not move again.
POI-3335: And for you-
POI-3335 hits Echo over the head with the butt of the pistol, knocking him unconscious.
POI-3335: I'll be back for you.
POI-3335 is seen heading off camera. A shout can be heard followed by silence. Some time later, Alpha and Bravo emerge into the camera's view, now dragging POI-3335, who appears to be unconscious.
Bravo: Shit! Foxtrot, you okay?
Alpha: He's breathing. Comatose. I think he's turning.
Bravo: Fuck, Delta is out too, covered in blood. Echo? Echo!
Echo wakes, dazed, after some effort. They hoist him to his feet. Command radios in to inform the group that Recovery Agents have finished with the stairwell. Echo struggles to regain composure, likely suffering a concussion.
Alpha: Did they bleed on you?
Echo: N-No.
Alpha: Alright. Bravo, finish dousing this place and light it up. We're taking this guy with us, since he seems more willing to talk than the others.
Bravo: Outbound. Let's do this.
Bravo pours the rest of the accelerant, lighting a match.
Bravo: Burn in hell.
Tossing the match, Bravo turns and leaves as the fire starts to spread. Gamma-7's egress is largely uneventful and has been redacted from this document. The rest of Gamma-7 returned onsite without incident. POI-3335 was placed in a maximum security chamber while interrogation measures were implemented.
<END LOG>

Addendum 3335.12: POI-3335 Interrogation Log 3335-5

Interrogation Log 3335-5
Subject: POI-3335
Notes: Analysis of instance in Foundation custody reveals slight deviations from SCP-3335's base effects. Individual appears lucid and unaffected by the physiological changes brought on by use of SCP-3335.

<BEGIN LOG>
Dr. Hoffman: (off-mic) Alright, let's try this again. SCP-3335-1, can you hear me?
Silence.
Dr. Hoffman: SCP-3335-1, answer the question.
POI-3335 glances up at the one-way mirror.
POI-3335: I hear you. I keep hearing you.
Dr. Hoffman: Who are you?
POI-3335: I'm the herald.
Dr. Hoffman: The Harold? Is Harold your name?
POI-3335 laughs, then groans as if in pain.
POI-3335: The herald. With an e.
Dr. Hoffman: The herald of what?
The entity stares at the one-way glass, silent. His expression is unclear.
Dr. Hoffman: If you do not respond, we will be forced to use alternative methods.
POI-3335: (sighs) You can't hurt me. Kill me, sure. Won't do you any good though. Our Mind is bigger than you.
Dr. Hoffman: Tell me about this mind, this other consciousness.
POI-3335: It knows you're hunting it down.
Dr. Hoffman: Is that so?
POI-3335: It isn't happy about it. It hates you for it, frankly.
Dr. Hoffman: Why hasn't it affected you like it has the others?
POI-3335: It needs my help.
Dr. Hoffman: Help with what?
POI-3335: Reconstruction and relocation.
Dr. Hoffman: What is it constructing?
Affected individual looks upwards and pauses as if listening.
POI-3335: I think that's enough for now. It will find someone else.
Subject smiles briefly before slamming their head down onto the metal table. POI-3335 crumples and is declared dead via cerebral hemorrhage shortly thereafter.
<END LOG>

Addendum 3335.27:
Surveillance of the New York City area revealed a large, abandoned textile factory which was being used by SCP-3335-1 instances as a nest. Upon termination of SCP-3335-1, autopsies confirm the removal of one side of the brain (hemispherectomy).
In addition, several unidentified hemispheres were recovered from the building, having been removed and carefully reconnected to one another in chains using an unknown but highly sophisticated procedure. Nerve endings in the brain stem were found to have been "rewired" to those of the others.
The reason for this is currently unknown.

Footnotes
1. Anonymous media sharing app often used to solicit personal encounters and/or illegal goods and services.
2. Fentanyl is a highly dangerous synthetic opioid fifty times more potent than heroin.
3. Slang term for Methoxetamine, a non-anomalous compound of similar effect.
4. Following the events of this mission, field operations regarding SCP-3335 are to be handled by Mobile Task Force Pi-1 ("City Slickers").
5. Likely a play on words, considering the English word cleave can mean both to split and to combine.

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