The cover of SCP-5198-A

Item #: SCP-5198
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: The last remaining copy of SCP-5198-A is kept in a long-term containment locker at Site-59; all others have been destroyed. Investigation of SCP-5198-A's content to pinpoint the causal agent of its anomalous effect is ongoing; requests to research may be forwarded to Site Director Naismith. Applicants must have a 90th-percentile score on the CHEESE1.
All seven contained instances of SCP-5198-B remain in a drug-induced coma at Site-59. To negate the possibility of anomalous nightmares, they have been supplied with a daily intravenous drip of 10% diluted bakuserum. Safe excision and isolation of their respective SCP-5198-C is not feasible at this time, pending further research.
Description: SCP-5198-A is a hardcover self-help book titled "Get Out of Your Damn Shell!". There is no author or publisher credited, and the content appears to be 502 pages of "Lorem Ipsum" placeholder text.
When a human subject with anxiety, depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, or other similar mental illnesses attempts to read SCP-5198-A, they become an instance of SCP-5198-B. Affected subjects lose the ability to control their written text (whether handwritten or typed). In addition, SCP-5198-B have reported hearing voices, vivid nightmares, migraines, and panic attacks. (Subjects who already had these symptoms have reported an increase in severity after exposure to SCP-5198-A.)
SCP-5198-C is a black mark on the right hand of each instance of SCP-5198-B. It resembles a silhouette of a turtle, similar to the one on the cover of SCP-5198-A. The marking has been deduced to be the source of the effects of SCP-5198-A exposure.
Attempts to remove SCP-5198-C through surgery or otherwise result in the host SCP-5198-B going through excruciating, traumatic headaches. If the subject is under anesthesia during the removal process, they will awaken.
The only successful removal thus far of SCP-5198-C was carried out with the former SCP-5198-B-8, who had volunteered to be restrained and withstand any side effects. Following removal, SCP-5198-B-8 died from internal cerebral hemorrhaging.
Addendum: The following documents were discovered on the laptop computer of SCP-5198-B-2 (known pre-containment as James Sutherland of Kenosha, WI).

1.docx
2.docx
3.docx
4.docx
5.docx
6.docx
7.docx

Jimmy! Good to meetcha. I'd introduce myself, but I don't have a name. I'm not even real. That's because we're here to focus on you.
As you might have noticed, I've put your fingers on autopilot for a while. There's no cause for alarm! You're not going crazy! In fact, in just a few weeks, you're gonna go the opposite of crazy.
Now that we've got introductions out of the way, let's go over the basics.
Name: James Nathan Sutherland
Age: 29
Sex: Male
Weight: Haha. Hahaha. …oh, boy.
Mental baggage: d e p r e s s i o n (womp womp)
Relationship Status: Single, and… a virgin, apparently? Uh, okay.
Highest Level of Education: High School?!
Employment: "Self-employed." Is that what you call it when you jerk off? Neat.
Relationship with Parents: Hopefully pretty good, considering… you live with them. Are you sure you're 29?
Oh, come on, don't get all mad just because I'm telling it like it is. You're at the bottom of the barrel, but that doesn't mean you can't start making positive changes. And you already have! You picked up my book at the library. You opened up a new Word document as soon as I told you to. Like it or not, you're on the right track to become something a-fucking-mazing.
So, here's your homework. By tomorrow at 9 PM, you will have done the following:
- 20 jumping jacks
- Gone outside for 1 hour
- Sent out two job applications (don't worry, I'll let you type those on your own), and
- Listened to half an hour of positive music.
Remember: I'm here to help you help yourself. Only you can make the decision to be happy.
Got it? Good.
Now get off the damn computer and get started.
…you're still typing. Go. GO! GET OFF THE FU

Okay, I'll admit, I might have laid it on too thick with our first talk together. That's on me.
It's still no excuse for binge-watching anime when you should have been sending out your job applications.
Jimmy, you can't make these positive steps without motivation. You need to want to change. And if you don't want to change, you need to change your mind immediately.
Come on, I wouldn't stick my non-existent neck out for you like this if I thought you weren't salvageable. I've got free reign of the place inside you, and — that novel idea you were working on? Frickin' gold. Storytelling magic, right there — and I'm an author myself.
And once you've earned it with more positive steps, I'll even let you work on it a little.
Five job apps. Tomorrow. Try the gas station. Bring a resume there on foot. It still works.

First off: whenever a gas station says "we're not hiring," that's business lingo for "we are hiring, but you didn't make a good first impression." Learn from it, and move on.
But that's not why I wanted to talk today. See, you tried to tell your parents about me.
This is a private doctor-patient affair. But what's worse: the more people you tell about the weird typing ghost thing that yells at you (Boo. Fucking. Hoo.) the more likely they are to fucking lock you up in an institution for life.
Have you heard me scream?
I think you have. It's more of a feeling than a sound. It feels like…
That.
Get your shit together.

Jimmy, I get it. You've been feeling terrible. It's understandable. You keep waking up terrified in the middle of the night for reasons you can't explain (heyooo!). Your life's gone to hell, and the only guy in your life that hasn't given up on you is getting meaner by the day.
It sucks.
But it could be a lot worse.
Those nightmares you've been having aren't a coincidence. I've got a whole fucking Warner-Bros-level movie studio in here. The one I've lined up for tonight is a doozy.
Remember Clockwork Orange? Jog five miles by noon tomorrow, or Alex in the theater is going to be you in your bed for the rest of your life.
Happiness is a choice. I have no fucking idea why you've been avoiding that choice, but it's pissing me off more and more by the minute.

I love you, James.
I adore you. I have seen the beauty in your mind, and I refuse to let you ruin it. There are ideas in here that could rattle the goddamn stars.
That's why I'm never giving up on you. Not until you don't need me anymore.
And yet, despite everything I've done for you, you've given up on me. How long has it been since you touched a keyboard? Two months? Are you that mad about the dreams? You knew what you were getting into when you opened my book. Says it right on the cover: "no-holds-barred."
Don't get me wrong, getting you off the computer has done some good. You've lost a lot of weight. You've been exercising to release the tension.
But I gave you that tension.
And you're not giving me anything back. Is that fair? Sound fair to you? WE NEED THIS TIME TO COMMUNICATE, JIMMY. YOU. NEED. TO. COMMUNICATE. WITH. ME.
Text your mother. You need an excuse to stay right here for a while, and I've got just the thing.
You're still on the computer.
Text mom.
TEXT. MOM.
DO YOU WANT ME TO SCREAM AGAIN?
Thank you.
As of right now, you are not leaving this room until you're happy and successful. Shit in the corner if you have to.
Turn off the computer.

THERE ARE TWO WAYS TO GET A TURTLE TO COME OUT OF ITS SHELL
ONE: TO TRY AND COAX THE TURTLE INTO PEEKING OUT ON ITS OWN

THE OTHER: FORCEPS

Footnotes
1. Cornell-Hartmann Employee Emotional Stability Examination; further information available at the Counseling Department helpdesk.

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