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2/6423-ARC LEVEL 2/6423-ARC
CLASSIFIED

Item #: SCP-6423-ARC

Neutralized

Danforth Automobile Factory, 1925.

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-6423-ARC was demolished in June 1925, prior to the writing of this file, and is no longer believed to be host to anomalous activity at this time. Investigation into Charles Danforth, the Danforth Company, and the Danforth family is ongoing.
Description: SCP-6423-ARC was the Danforth Automobile Factory, located in Chicago, Illinois, and active from December of 1924 to June of 1925. Following the automotive boom of the 1920s, the Danforth Company split their large meatpacking plant, and converted a portion of the land into an automobile factory. SCP-6423-ARC was host to a number of effects and events, though none could be confirmed as anomalous and the factory was demolished midway into a full investigation. A timeline of the factory's operation has been constructed below based on documents and information acquired by investigating agents, who were given broad authority to complete their missions.

DECEMBER, 1924
Danforth Automobile Factory finished construction and began operating in December of 1924. Located in the building formerly occupied by Danforth Meatpacking, the plant had undergone almost complete renovation to be the multinational Danforth Company's first foray into the automotive industry. Harlan & Sons Construction handled the construction of the factory itself.

Recovered Evidence: Interview with Joseph Harlan, owner and operator of Harlan & Sons Construction.

▼ Recovered Evidence ▼

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INTERVIEWER: AGENT ALBERT HARCOURT
SUBJECT: JOSEPH HARLAN
[BEGIN EXCERPT]

HARCOURT: Well, most everything seems to be in order, Mr. Harlan. Your permits should come through in six to seven weeks - you can break ground then.
HARLAN: Lord, seven weeks? I'm operating on a bit of a deadline, and the schedule is already tighter than… well, it's tight.
HARCOURT: That's unfortunate, my sympathies.
HARLAN: There's no way you could speed it up?
HARCOURT: There are some things I could do. But I'd need you cooperation, if you understand what I mean.
[HARLAN sighs.]
HARLAN: I had a feeling that's where this was going. Dammit. You want kickbacks — how much?
HARCOURT: Oh, nothing that unseemly. I just have a few questions about past contracts of yours. And to preempt your next question: no, you're not in trouble for anything.
HARLAN: Oh. And then I'll get the permits?
HARCOURT: I'll deliver them to your mailbox myself.
HARLAN: Alright, then. What do you want to know?
HARCOURT: Specifically I have questions about a past contract of yours, about six months ago — the Danforth Factory?
HARLAN: Ah. That.
HARCOURT: You don't sound too happy.
HARLAN: It was a shit project.
HARCOURT: How so? You came in under budget and ahead of schedule, didn't you?
HARLAN: In business, you have two points to distribute among budget, speed, and quality. You can be very good at just one of them. You can be reliably good at two of them. I've never seen a business that really had all three.
HARCOURT: So, what? You cut corners in construction? Safety?
HARLAN: Yes. No. It's complicated. Danforth was riding me to keep costs down. More money than God, and he's out there complaining about basic structural expenses.
HARCOURT: Charles Danworth himself?
HARLAN: Yes. I didn't know he was going to be so… involved, when we made the bid. But yes. Corners were cut, certainly… but there was more to it than that.
HARCOURT: Go on.
HARLAN: There were problems practically every week of construction. We were working next to a slaughterhouse - blood and guts and noise all hours of the day, even louder than the machines. Which, the machines kept breaking down. Sick workers. Plus the..
HARCOURT: What is it?
HARLAN: I… look, I signed a contract of silence, okay?
HARCOURT: No one's going to know you were involved, Joe. I'm helping you out here, remember?
HARLAN: Yeah. Yeah, okay. Mr.Danforth had… requests, for the construction process.
HARCOURT: Such as?
HARLAN: We were supposed to rip out all the processing equipment. But Danforth kept instructing us to save this grinder, or this butchery belt — that was at first. Kept getting worse. Demanding that the floor tiles be put together in a very specific pattern. Making modifications to the blueprints. New sections, basements, cellars, crawlspaces.
HARCOURT: Did he ever consult you on these?
HARLAN: 'Consult' in the sense that he informed me afterwards and threatened to fire me if we didn't comply. But the point I'm getting at is that the blueprints aren't even close to comprehensive - there are two factories on that land.
HARCOURT: Any idea why he would do all that?
HARLAN: Not the faintest. But he's a successful businessman. I'm sure there's something.
HARCOURT: Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Harlan. I'll get your permits to you as soon as I can.

[END OF LOG]
NOTE: Charles Danforth could not be reached for comment or corroboration.

JANUARY, 1925
Danforth Automotive began full-scale production in general in January, propelling Danforth to a major player in the industrial sector of Chicago. Workers were hired en masse in dangerous conditions for little pay — unsubstantiated claims posit that Chicago's homeless population was being used for labor.

Recovered Evidence: Interview with Aoife O'Leary, widow of Shaughn O'Leary, former employee of Danforth Automotive

▼ Recovered Evidence ▼

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INTERVIEWER: AGENT ALBERT HARCOURT
SUBJECT: AOIFE O'LEARY
[BEGIN LOG]

HARCOURT: Mrs. O'Leary.
O'LEARY: Who are you?
HARCOURT: A friend. I'm here to talk about your husband.
O'LEARY: I don't-
HARCOURT: He was killed, wasn't he?
O'LEARY: What? My husband died in a factory accident, you fou-
HARCOURT: I have reason to believe that that's not entirely true.
O'LEARY: What- what are you saying?
HARCOURT: I'm with the Bureau of Investigation, ma'am. We're looking into the Danforth Company. We have reason to believe that the factory was a site for… illegal and unseemly activities. Your husband may have been killed in a factory accident, but all the reports agree — or they did, before Danforth suppressed them. Someone being packed into the engine block of a car is not something that happens accidentally.
O'LEARY: I- I can't-
HARCOURT: I'm sorry for bringing up bad memories, Mrs. O'Leary. But your husband's death doesn't need to be in vain. If you help me, I — the government — could really use any information he might have shared with you about work. Maybe even put Danforth away for good.
O'LEARY: I- Okay. I don't have much, but I'll try to help. What do you need to know?
HARCOURT: How did your husband come to work at Danforth Automotive?
O'LEARY: We thought it was a blessing, at first. That God had finally given us an opportunity. Shaughn was searching for a job for months and months before the Factory opened. He almost didn't bother, because he figured it'd be the same as all of the others — Irish need not apply. But- then people started to talk, that Danforth was hiring anyone, regardless of color or creed.
HARCOURT: How progressive.
O'LEARY: Not progressive. Primitive. Shrewd. He didn't care what country you were from, because bodies all had the same value to him. But it was a job - honest work. Not stealing or bootlegging like all his brothers. Let him ignore the unholy rate that Danforth was hiring workers.
HARCOURT: He welded, correct?
O'LEARY: That's right. Brutal work. His hands were covered with burns and calluses when he came home. He coughed, all the time. His eyesight was beginning to go when he…
HARCOURT: Did he ever mention anything strange?
O'LEARY: Strange?
HARCOURT: Anything odd, improper… abnormal or extraordinary events.
O'LEARY: A few times, I think. He'd- he'd complain about the building. It was built out of a repurposed slaughterhouse, you know.
HARCOURT: Really?
O'LEARY: Mhm. And they didn't change much, after ripping out the pens. Most of them, anyway. The big open factory floor was still lined with pigs' troughs, just filled with water instead of slop. Guards and overseers keeping watch from the catwalk. The building was raw and industrial here, intricately designed there. The tiles, he mentioned the tiles having grooves that only became visible when fluid spilled on them.
HARCOURT: I see. Anything else?
O'LEARY: He came home one night spooked out of his mind. I calmed him down and he explained that he'd taken a wrong turn in the factory, gone down a flight of stairs… he'd only ever seen the guards take troublesome workers down there, and so assumed it was a back exit. But it wasn't.
HARCOURT: What was it?
O'LEARY: A forgotten part of the factory. All grimy and dusty and abandoned, he said it was thrumming with the machines overhead. It was a long corridor, lit by pulsing red electric lights, and- and he walked down it until he reached the end, where he said he saw two big metal doors, and heard a noise coming from behind them. But they were barred from the other side. So he put his ear to them - and he said that all he could hear was some kind of chanting, and the squealing of pigs.
HARCOURT: I… see. Anything else?
O'LEARY: That's all I can remember. Danforth treated my husband, all the workers, like animals. But he's the animal, and he'll get what's coming to him.
HARCOURT: I'll make sure of it. Thank you for your time, Mrs. O'leary.
[HARCOURT removed an envelope from his coat.]
HARCOURT: And… I've been authorized to provide you with a small sum for your cooperation. Take care.

[END LOG]
NOTE: While Shaughn O'Leary's manner of death was gruesome, there is currently no evidence to suggest it was anything more than a routine industrial accident.
NOTE: Charles Danforth could not be reached for comment or corroboration.

FEBRUARY, 1925
Following the slow ramp-up to full production in January, February served as the first recorded month of profit for the Danforth Automobile Factory. Several models of civilian vehicle were produced during this time, primarily copies of the Ford Model T and Chrysler Model B-70. Despite the lack of technical innovation, the Danforth Company recorded record profits in this time period.

Recovered Evidence: Interview with Bryce Shelley, former shareholder in the Danforth Company

▼ Recovered Evidence ▼

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INTERVIEWER: AGENT ALBERT HARCOURT
SUBJECT: BRYCE SHELLEY
[BEGIN EXCERPT]

HARCOURT: Another drink, Mr. Shelley?
SHELLEY: If you wouldn't mind, aha. Whatever's at the top of the shelf.
HARCOURT: Living large, aren't we?
SHELLEY: I'm a rich man. I deserve it.
HARCOURT: I'm sure you do. Remind me what your holdings are?
SHELLEY: Oh, a bit of everything. But particularly the three A's. Arms, agriculture…
HARCOURT: Automotive?
SHELLEY: Why yes. How did you know?
[SHELLEY roars in laughter.]
HARCOURT: Then I suppose you had money in the Danforth factory they're demolishing next week?
SHELLEY: Of course, of course. Sad story, that one. Enormous profits for a few months, then Danforth announces he's shuttering it! Old fool. Industry is a long game with immense overhead — of course it wouldn't be solvent in just half a year. He's one of those new-bloods, you know? Oh, what am I saying, how would you know?
HARCOURT: Try me.
SHELLEY: Hm. Alright. Charles Danforth… prick. Like I said, he's little more than a boy, making boyish moves. Risky plays, tender investments, acquiring vulnerable companies. But somehow it all works out for him. Already richer than most men in the country.
HARCOURT: If you think he's reckless, you could do something about it. You're on the board.
SHELLEY: Well why in the hell would I want to do that? He's made me rich! Richer than I already was, anyway. As long as it pays off, risk is good in business — and better him taking the risk than me, if someone's got to take it. Yes, the capital Danforth brings in more than justifies any personal irks he may give me. But the financial risk isn't all of it.
HARCOURT: What else is there?
SHELLEY: There are… rumours.
HARCOURT: Rumours?
SHELLEY: That he's one of those new-age religious folk, you know. Believing in a different God. Seances, singing circles… sacrifices. That sort of thing. I'm sure it's just old money casting aspersions on new money. Much like me!
[SHELLEY bursts out laughing again.]
SHELLEY: But I tell you, when the February profit report came in… the man can believe in God, the Devil, or something else entirely if that's what's bringing in that kind of money! You get me, boy?
HARCOURT: Like crystal, Mr. Shelley. I've heard talk about the factory, though.
SHELLEY: What kind of talk?
HARCOURT: Workers being taken into the back and not coming out. Strange, chanting noises during the night shift. Pork loins showing up in the engines, and sparkplugs showing up in the steak. Workers falling into machines, and no one bothering to stop the line.
SHELLEY: That was just once! As for the rest… cost of doing business, isn't it?
HARCOURT: Quite right, Mr. Shelley. Another drink?

[END EXCERPT]
NOTE: Charles Danforth could not be reached for comment or corroboration.

MARCH, 1925
March of 1925 brought in considerable profit for Danforth Automobile. A contract with the government for a large supply of vehicles and vehicle part pushed production to an all-time high, and a significant number of workers were hired to offset the production capabilities of the limited staff. However, this month had an exceedingly high turnover rate for laborers, even by Danforth's already absurd standards.

Recovered Evidence: Interview with Moses Thompson, former accountant of the Danforth Company.

▼ Recovered Evidence ▼

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INTERVIEWER: AGENT ALBERT HARCOURT
SUBJECT: MOSES THOMPSON
[BEGIN EXCERPT]

THOMPSON: If what you say is true, we only have a few minutes, Mister… Walthorpe. Please, make haste.
HARCOURT: Don't worry, I'll make it very fast — I only have the one question, then you can head on home.
THOMPSON: Well?
HARCOURT: How was the Danforth Automobile Factory profitable?
[Silence.]
THOMPSON: I… I'm leaving now.
HARCOURT: I don't think so, Mr. Thompson. Tell me what I want to know. I know you know, so don't play dumb. One answer about a man who can't so much as touch you now, and you're free to go.
THOMPSON: And if not?
HARCOURT: Then I won't let you leave. The police will arrive shortly to break up this speakeasy, and you'll be thrown in jail. Tell me, how long do you think you would last in the stationhouse?
THOMPSON: I… okay. Please, hurry.
HARCOURT: Excellent. Like you said, let's make this fast. One: how was the Danforth factory solvent? You were having record profits while having absurd overhead and turnover.
THOMPSON: I don't know.
HARCOURT: I have friends in the force, Mr. Thompson. Let's hope you don't end up with the worst roommate in the block.
THOMPSON: Please, I'm not lying! I really don't know! Danforth wouldn't let us touch the books or records from the factory! He'd have an errand boy send them down, prefilled out, and have us sign them off as if we'd written them.
HARCOURT: So he was hiding something?
THOMPSON: That's what everyone thought! But I have no idea what. All I know is, the money and the profit wasn't coming from the factory floor. Are we done?
HARCOURT: You're free to go.

[END EXCERPT]
NOTE: Charles Danforth could not be reached for comment or corroboration.

MAY, 1925
After several production delays and halts on the Army contract, rumors began to spiral that Charles Danforth himself would be coming in to inspect the factory and decide its future. On May 25th, witnesses observed the reclusive tycoon arriving at the factory. Three days later, on May 28th, Danforth was reported exiting the factory, albeit with only one of his bodyguards.

Recovered Evidence: Statement of the day from Wallace Wells, former bodyguard to Charles Danforth

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That shit was fucking terrifying. And I don't scare easy, you know that. But that shit was something else entirely.
We came up on the factory on Monday. I thought this was gonna be a short trip — few hours, tops. We got out of the car, the whole detail — me, Luis, and two others, plus Danforth hisself. Them four all went into the factory — I got told to wait outside, make sure no one else came in until they came out. I thought I drew the damn short straw, standing out in the sun. Fuckin' hell, I was lucky.
I was patrolling, making a lap around the factory when I got the first sign something weird was going on. The factory's slightly elevated, you see — it was, anyway. So there are a few little windows, barely more than stone gaps, that go directly into the basement. Basements, I should say — there are a lot of them.
But I'm walkin' past one of these windows, and I hear the strangest fuckin' noise. I thought the sky was shakin' at first, it was so loud. This deep, thick, heavy rumbling coming from inside the basement, so loud I thought I was gonna piss myself. Nasally, too — then I realize I recognize it — it's an oink. One huge, gargantuan, bone shaking oink.
I think to myself that it's probably a machine scraping against some metal, making a noise like that. I know what I heard, but I shut my mouth and move on.
When I get to the front, one of the guards is waitin' for me. Not one of us — but one of the Factory's guards, in their uniform — a black raincoat and a gas mask so thick you can't possibly see their face. Goddamn freaky. This point, it's been four or five hours and I'm getting a little antsy, so I ask him where the boss is.
This fuckin' thing rasps at me in broken-fucking-English that Danforth isn't coming back tonight, and that I should go home and return in three days. That he has 'urgency-matters to attend to in-below the pits'. I argue a little but it's clear I'm not getting anywhere with this thing.
So I do as I'm told, come back with the car three days later, and sure as shit Danforth's waiting outside, that grin on his face. He only gets that grin when he's cut a deal — I've seen it show up when he buys someone's company just to destroy their livelihood, when he shorts a business and ends up with a new fortune, when people who oppose him mysteriously go missing. He's standin' there with that smile, front of his suit covered in… either blood or motor oil, I didn't ask.
I silently pull up and pop the door. He gets in, and that's when I notice he's holding onto something in his fist, clenched real tight. Something about the size of my fist, and very red. He sees me staring, tells me to shut up and drive, but I know what I saw. That was a human fucking heart.

NOTE: Charles Danforth could not be reached for comment or corroboration.

JUNE, 1925
On June 3rd, the Danforth Company announced it would be closing its automotive division due to numerous production troubles and low profits. The remaining workers in the Chicago factory were fired and the building itself was slated for demolition. On June 24th, the building was collapsed using controlled explosives.

Recovered Evidence: Unscheduled Interview with Charles Danforth, CEO of the Danforth Company.

▼ Recovered Evidence ▼

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INTERVIEWER: AGENT ALBERT HARCOURT
SUBJECT: CHARLES DANFORTH
[BEGIN LOG]

HARCOURT: Mr. Danforth. You're a hard man to reach.
DANFORTH: By design, kid. My time is valuable. Too valuable to waste on people like you.
HARCOURT: You don't appreciate people asking questions about your business?
DANFORTH: If they ask the right questions, not one bit. You're not doing that.
HARCOURT: Then please, what are the right questions?
DANFORTH: Hah. You thought it was gonna be that easy? Fuck you. I'll tell you what's right, though — that you white-coat Foundation cocksuckers-
HARCOURT: How do you-
DANFORTH: Don't interrupt me. That you only start investigating once I already decide to close the factory! Ain't that some shit. Irony. And you know I'm not gonna answer that.
HARCOURT: I… see. The rumours about Danforth Automotive were troubling to the Foundation, Mr. Danforth. The rumours about you are even worse.
DANFORTH: Oh yeah? What kind of rumours you listenin' to, kid?
HARCOURT: The ones that are whispered around drawing rooms and salons, but only after curtains have been drawn, doors shut, bottles emptied, voices lowered. People are afraid.
DANFORTH: Good. Let 'em be. But you didn't answer my fuckin' question.
HARCOURT: Right. Well, that these tragic accidents that kept happening aren't accidents. That the underground parts of the factory were never converted from slaughterhouse to machinery. Chanting comes from the inner factory at all hours of the day and night. Guards don't wear masks to protect from chemicals. The pig noises.
DANFORTH: Those are rumours alright. And like most rumours, they're full of shit.
HARCOURT: I don't think that's true. I have confirmation on some of them.
DANFORTH: From who? Disgruntled employees? Widowers? Real credible.
HARCOURT: So you're telling me that Danforth Automotive was just a regular car factory? Nothing odd about it?
DANFORTH: Well, I think we both know that's not true. So no. Just that your chumps, you, have drawn the wrong conclusions from your information.
HARCOURT: What's the correct conclusion, then?
DANFORTH: Business is all the same, you know. Clerical, financial, industrial… automotive, agricultural… it all boils down to the same principles. Make the other guy lose more and you'll gain more. A zero sum game. I win, you lose. You win — well, I make sure you don't win.
HARCOURT: What's your point?
DANFORTH: Well, why don't we trade? You told me what information you had on me. Why don't you tell me what you've added it all up to? You seem smart, I'm dying to know what your figured out.
HARCOURT: The factory itself was anomalous, wasn't it? That's why you had it built the way you did. Something about it was supposed to make you rich — but it didn't.
[Pause.]
DANFORTH: So close, but no cigar.
HARCOURT: Then what?
DANFORTH: I'm a businessman. People can dress business up how they'd like — that it's cost-benefit analysis, managing risk and maximizing profit, fucking your mother, whatever. They're lying to either you or themselves. Business is extracting value from suffering.
HARCOURT: I don't-
DANFORTH: So, I made a deal with something. A contract. I feed it what it wanted. And by feeding it… the employees suffered. And the more they suffered, the more money I made. Didn't matter how functional the products were, how well the factory ran. I… capitalized off human suffering.
HARCOURT: Remorseful?
DANFORTH: Fucking orgasmic.
HARCOURT: Jesus Christ. So you did summon something. You did believe in the occult, you… worshipped some kind of god.
DANFORTH: Money is my religion, and capital is my god. The factory was just a reliquary. But beneath it, inside it?
[DANFORTH pauses, then smiles.]
DANFORTH: I had a cathedral to the only thing that has ever mattered. From suffering, profit.
HARCOURT: Hold on, you said you made a deal. What did you give up?
DANFORTH: What?
HARCOURT: Deals like this aren't made on good faith. You gave something up and sooner or later, whatever the fuck you bound to this Earth is going to come collecting.
DANFORTH: By the time that happens, I'll be lying in a gilded coffin. Someone else's problem.
HARCOURT: You're a monster.
DANFORTH: I'm a value add. But now that you've devolved into schoolyard insults, I'll be taking my leave. Don't try to stop me — you won't be able to.
HARCOURT: Hold on, what was with the pigs? The oinking?
[DANFORTH pauses, then laughs.]
DANFORTH: Well, I guess you'll never find out, will you?

[END OF LOG]


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