Item #: SCP-358
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Due to the mental side effects of SCP-358, SCP-358 is to be kept locked at all times except during testing, and all windows are to remain boarded, with regular guard patrols to ensure that no unauthorized entry occurs. The entirety of the building should be sealed air-tight, and any leaks reported immediately along with any signs of forced entry. Anyone found inside the building with reasons other than testing should be evacuated immediately and held for questioning and observation.
Description: SCP-358 is an abandoned trauma center located on the outskirts of ███████████, England. The grounds surrounding the building are overgrown with vegetation native to the area and characteristic of extreme neglect. The building's exterior is weathered but otherwise intact, with windows and entrances boarded up to prevent trespassing and vandalism. Air inside is arid, measured on average at 45 degrees Celsius, with hotter dry gusts of air that blow through the hallways from no discernible source. Exploration and monitoring has revealed anomalous activity characteristic of typical type three pseudospiritual manifestation (haunting) ranging from glowing spheres to full bodied apparitions, all of which appear exhausted and on occasion ask for water. Recognizable apparitions appear to be individuals who have been exposed to SCP-358 beyond the average (47 minute) psychological recoverability point in the past. The majority of these subjects reside in Foundation psychological observational facilities, and security footage shows them present in their respective units during the appearance of their apparitions within SCP-358.
In the majority of cases (██%), individuals within SCP-358 experience a sense of disorientation upon entering the building, which slowly diminishes over time spent within SCP-358. Additionally, they report a growing sense of thirst, which begins to coincide with physical symptoms suggestive of extreme dehydration and heat exhaustion. These symptoms are not alleviated by hydration, even using a direct intravenous drip. As exposure time continues, the exposed individual will show a slowly increasing degree of mental degradation typical of heat stroke, which leads to an exponentially increasing degree of dissociative disorder. On average, affected individuals remaining within SCP-358 are not considered psychologically recoverable beyond forty-seven minutes of exposure. The remaining █% of subjects exposed to SCP-358 are unaffected, but are to be kept under observation to monitor for possible later development of effects.
On rare occasions, affected subjects within SCP-358 expire suddenly of apparent poisoning. Autopsy in these cases always reveals the venom of one or more common North American desert dwelling predators in the bloodstream, usually that of Crotalus atrox, the Western Diamondback Rattlesnake.
SCP-358 was discovered by the SCP Foundation on ██-██-1983 when two males, ages 20 and 22, were apprehended for trespassing after being found wandering its premises, unaware of their surroundings, by local law enforcement. Medical examination revealed only physical side effects, similar to exposure to a desert setting. The psychological evaluations of each person revealed a loss in mental capacity regarding self identification and location. A followup of a CT scan revealed nothing out of the ordinary. The police and medical reports were collected by SCP Foundation personnel which led to the current testing of SCP-358.
Addendum 358-01:
Testing supervisor's log, ██-██-19██:
Testing time duration: 30 minutes
Test subject is female, ██ years of age, █'██", with an athletic build.
Upon entry, test subject observes that the climate is hot and dry. After exiting the building, the test subject appeared dazed and was observed to be suffering from slight dehydration. Test subject also brought attention to the sand in her shoes. The sand was then collected for further testing purposes.
Addendum 358-02:
Testing supervisor's log, ██-██-19██:
Testing time duration: 1 hour
Test subject is male, ██ years of age, █'██", slightly overweight.
Test subject entered the building as in the previous test, remarking on the arid climate inside. Further exploration revealed a layout not unlike that of any other hospital from the region and period. Upon exiting SCP-358, test subject began questioning who and where they were. Medical testing revealed that the subject was suffering from dehydration, and they were provided water to replenish lost fluids. Sand was recovered from the test subject's shoes. Test subject recovered fully in all areas except their mental state, and remains in psychological observation facility A.
Addendum 358-03:
Testing supervisor's log, ██-██-19██:
Testing time duration: 2 hours
Test subject is male, ██ years of age, █'██", of a wiry stature.
As in other testing, test subject began by observing a dry and hot climate on entering the building. Test subject orders were to examine the rooms of SCP-358. One hour into testing subject began complaining of dehydration and appeared slightly confused. After a duration of 2 hours within SCP-358, communication from the test subject stopped, and D-Class personnel were sent in to retrieve test subject. The D-Class located the subject in a room near the entrance, unconscious, and was recovered. Test subject regained consciousness soon after administration of an IV drip. Upon waking, subject was observed to be in a persistent vegetative state, unable to function, and was subsequently admitted to psychological observation facility A. Blood tests revealed trace amounts of a highly poisonous rattlesnake venom, found in bite victims of the deserts of southern California. As noted in Addenda 358-01 and 358-02, subject's shoes were filled with sand.
Addendum 358-04:
On █/██/████, Security patrols captured video footage of a humanoid apparition in the north hall of SCP-358 begging for water. Comparison of video footage confirms that the apparition appears to exhibit mannerisms and appearance identical to test subject C, whose test results are noted in Addendum 358-03. Subject C remains unresponsive in psychological observation facility A, and demonstrated no change in behavior during the event.

« SCP-357 | SCP-358 | SCP-359 »


Item #: SCP-360
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Foundation agents embedded in airport security and sky marshal agencies worldwide are to monitor air travelers and chartered flights for suspected activity related to SCP-360. Individuals suspected of attempting SCP-360 are to be detained, questioned, and administered a Class A amnestic; all items related to the activation of SCP-360 are to be confiscated for research.
In confirmed cases of SCP-360 activation, Foundation response teams are to enact media suppression and prevent dissemination of knowledge pertaining to the incident. Flight crew and passenger witnesses are to be administered a Class B amnestic and given a cover story.
Description: SCP-360 is an anomalous ritual that ostensibly allows a single living human subject to ascend to a higher plane of existence. When performed at an altitude of 10,500 meters or higher, affected subjects emit a blinding light and a burst of high-energy radiation for several seconds, then disappear. The radiation dosage is negligible and does not pose any long-term danger to affected individuals; however, due to the altitude required for successful activation, SCP-360 has resulted in numerous aviation incidents involving both public and private aircraft.
When questioned, numerous witnesses of SCP-360 activation events — particularly those identifying as devout religious adherents — have reportedly experienced auditory and/or visual hallucinations consistent with their religious beliefs. These have taken the form of seeing the affected subject with luminescent wings or a halo prior to disappearance, music with no identifiable source, religious iconography or imagery, or a feeling that they were in the vicinity of a powerful presence.
To date, no individual who has successfully performed SCP-360 has ever been recovered.
Addendum 360-1: Investigation Log
Following thorough interrogation of individuals detained prior to a successful activation of SCP-360, it has been determined that in every case that knowledge of SCP-360 had been disseminated through a multi-page letter sent to the individual's residence. This letter reportedly contained self-help information, instructions for performing SCP-360, as well as a final message encouraging the reader to forward the contents onto other interested individuals.
The vast majority of interrogated individuals had already forwarded the letter, but on ████-██-██, one instance was successfully contained by members of Mobile Task Force Alpha-4 ("Pony Express") prior to mail pickup by local postal employees. The contents of the handwritten letter, which have been determined to be non-anomalous, are as follows:

To whom it may concern:
Faith is real, but devotion is a myth. God exists; in fact, all gods exist. They are real and their power is real, but their motivations are childish and petulant. Whether you believe in salvation, transcendence, or reincarnation, these are but hoops in the petty games that they would have you believe to be necessary.
Real peace is found within you, and no priest or rabbi can tell you otherwise. When you learn to accept and love yourself, that's when the world finally falls into place and the truth becomes clear.
Let go of the empty words pretending to guide you to true happiness. Let the world fade away around you and embrace the power within yourself. From those who have gone before to those who are about to come: we are here, waiting. Not as gods or angels, but as brothers and sisters.

The remainder of the document describes two items required for successful activation of SCP-360 as well as the procedure required to complete the ritual:

You will need a token. Something from a loved one: a gift from a child, a flower from a spouse, or a toy from a parent. Something that means something to you.
You will need to mix a potion. The ingredients are simple, but need to be precise:

50 milliliters of purified water
1 crushed mint leaf
5 grams of dried willow bark
3 milliliters of tea tree oil
500 milligrams of acetaminophen
[REDACTED]
[REDACTED]

Combine ingredients and simmer over low heat until it turns luminous gold.

1. Fly. Lift yourself above the highest peaks, where the air is thin and the heavens are close. Angels and demons may be the messengers of the usurpers, but they have wings for a reason.
2. Hold your token close to your heart. Remember how you felt when it was given, cherish that feeling, and let it grow within you.
3. Drink the potion. Let it numb the body and free your spirit.
4. Repeat these words: [REDACTED]
5. Be free.

Pass this on to those who need it. You know who they are, and you always wished that there was more you could do to help. They will find you and thank you for it. That's a promise.

Due to the continued occurrence of incidents confirmed or suspected to be related to SCP-360, it is suspected that additional instances of this documentation remain uncontained. MTF Alpha-4 is continuing to monitor postal services for instances and contain them as they become identified.

« SCP-359 | SCP-360 | SCP-361 »


Item #: SCP-361
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-361 is to be kept in a standard Artifact Containment Unit in Site-19's High Value wing. SCP-361 is to be kept in a cool and dry environment to prevent damage to the aged metal it is composed of, and thoroughly cleaned after each use.
Description: SCP-361 is a bronze Etruscan artifact, in the shape of a sheep's liver. SCP-361 is covered in the names of Etruscan gods and instructions for various religious rites, and is believed to have served as a tool for practicing haruspicy- divination using animal organs. SCP-361 bears a strong resemblance to the non-anomalous artifact known as the Liver of Piacenza, with which it was originally found during the late 19th century. Both artifacts date to the 2nd-3rd century BCE, to the province of Piacenza, Italy.
SCP-361's anomalous properties manifest if it comes into contact with a sheep's liver, removed no more than three (3) hours before interacting with SCP-361. When such contact is made, SCP-361 will vocalize (in a language and tone appropriate to the one introducing the liver to it) a set of instructions meant to achieve contact with one of the gods or spirits depicted in the writings covering it, through a service it refers to as "HarusCo". If these instructions are performed correctly within a period of thirty (30) seconds, SCP-361 will provide a new set of instructions. SCP-361's instructions will grow increasingly convoluted and/or nonsensical, until becoming almost impossible to perform under the given time limit. Failure to follow an instruction will cause SCP-361 to become inactive for a period of twenty-four (24) hours.
Test Log SCP-361

Test-361-A
Stage 1: A sheep's liver is introduced to SCP-361.
Vocalization: Welcome to HarusCo! Your sacrifice is very important to us! For Tinia the Thunderer, please perform a horizontal incision on the offering. For Aita of the Underworld, please perform a vertical incision. For Maris, lightly cover your offering with the ash of a dead warrior related to you by blood.
Stage 2: A horizontal incision is made.
Vocalization: You have selected Tinia. For your weekly meteorological divination, please singe your offering over an open flame for five seconds. For warning bolts, please place a green olive on the altar. For beseechments and beneficial interventions, please attach a written consent from the Consulate Gods. For Catastrophes, please remove the head of an adult ox and hold.
Stage 3: The liver is singed over an open flame.
Vocalization: You have selected weekly meteorological divination. For your local forecast, please perform the seven sacred rites of Tinia while avoiding the anger of the mildew spirits. For forecasts for other areas, please perform the rites upon a boat of three masts or more. For a marital forecast, please consult with your local priestess of Uni.
Stage 4: Researchers were unable to comply with the instructions in the given time frame.
Vocalization: No input was received, this sacrifice will be disconnected. Thank you for using HarusCo, Rasna's #1 divination and deistic petition service for more than two thousand years! The Gods are looking forward to your next call!
[SCP-361 enters inactive state]

Addendum SCP-361-A: In order to examine the limits of SCP-361's ability to alter the language and tone it uses to interact with its user, a subject with a similar cultural origin to SCP-361 was required. For that purpose, a request for interaction between SCP-361 and SCP-1510, the persona of which originates from the same general area and time period, was made and accepted.

Test 361-B
Stage 1: Subject D-1510-104, wearing SCP-1510, introduces a sheep's liver to SCP-361.
Vocalization: SCP-361 vocalizes in Classical Latin, the language spoken by SCP-1510-1. The instruction is translated to "Son of Romulus, speak the words thy father taught you, and your watcher will speak, his words carried by our spirit."
Stage 2: SCP-1510-1 chants several phrases in Latin, later identified as an oath to Mars Gradivus.
Vocalization: SCP-361's instruction is translated to "Place the aspect of your watcher at his feet, so he might see your altered form."
Stage 3: SCP-1510-1 requests an open flame. He is given a camping gas lamp. SCP-1510 places the lit gas lamp at the feet of the table SCP-361 is placed on.
Vocalization: SCP-361's instruction is translated to "Speak the duty of your watcher, so he might judge your worthiness."
Stage 4: SCP-1510-1 speaks a Latin phrase, later identified as Mars Gradivus' oath: to guard, preserve, and protect the state, the peace and the senate.
Vocalization: SCP-361's instruction is translated to "Show your watcher that you do not stand alone; Does he who guards your left carry with him your watcher's conviction?"
Stage 5: SCP-1510-1 requests one of the supervising researchers to enter the room and touch SCP-361. Request granted.
Vocalization: SCP-361 speaks in a different voice, still in classical Latin: "Courage, Publius. This too shall pass. When rust claims your soul at last, valor will make you into Aeneas, and carry you beyond these shores, to rest among your fathers." The voice was later identified by SCP-1510-1 as the voice of the persona's father.
[SCP-361 enters inactive state]

« SCP-360 | SCP-361 | SCP-362 »


Item #: SCP-362
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-362 may be sealed in a polypropylene bag and stored in an indexed box on-site within Vault 2b.
SCP-362 is to be stored in a polypropylene bag and kept in a standard lockbox. This lockbox is to be kept in a dedicated room with no materials pertaining to other SCPs, including handwritten and/or typed files, smartphones, PDAs, Post-It notes, memos, etc. Electronic devices with access to the Internet and/or on-site intranet are forbidden from entering and/or accessing said room. Containment chamber should include non-relevant books and magazines along with blank notebooks, for observation purposes.
Only persons possessing Level 1 clearance or lower may receive authorization to enter the containment chamber and wear SCP-362, which shall be done for research purposes and for said purposes only. Dr. ██████ and O5-█ possess keys unlocking SCP-362's lockbox; no other copies may be made without O5 authorization. Two security personnel must bar access to anyone not possessing the required clearance, and at least one surveillance camera must monitor each of the following for both research and security purposes: exterior of chamber entryway, interior of chamber entryway, lockbox, and the chamber itself.
Description: SCP-362 is a light blue T-shirt bearing the logo of [REDACTED], a children's “Saturday morning cartoon” television program popular in the late 1980s and early 90s. It is a size M (medium), with short sleeves. Its color appears to have faded, and was likely a darker shade of blue. Its tag states the T-shirt is made of 100% cotton; testing has confirmed this statement. Despite its apparent age, it is in good condition apart from said fading: its collar and sleeves are not worn or threadbare and it has no holes or rips.
Test subjects wearing SCP-362 have unanimously reported no feelings of discomfort, unease, or foreboding. Five subjects, whose ages range from 22 to 35, have expressed what can perhaps be informally phrased as “amused nostalgia” upon donning SCP-362. In tests, it has been worn as briefly as 3.6 seconds and as long as ██ days, with a mean duration of ██ hours. Aside from the obvious inconvenience of wearing an item of clothing longer than a few days, the test subject in each case reported normal emotional responses.
Upon doffing SCP-362, its effects are immediate and almost invariable among tests, the only significant variable being the duration test subjects must endure the phenomenon before it ends. Immediately after pulling SCP-362 off over his or her head, the test subject reports several to dozens of humanoid figures suddenly appearing in the room with them. The figures appear after the instant the test subject's vision becomes obscured by the material of SCP-362 passing over the subject's eyes as it is removed.
These figures present with absolutely indeterminate features. Most to all of these figures seem to fix their attention on the test subject, and unless approached will stand motionless. A test subject who moves around the test chamber will find that these figures also move, but only to keep their attention fixed on the subject and/or to avoid physical contact with the subject. These figures will go as far as to phase through the confines of the test chamber to avoid contact with any living being.
The figures themselves have been variously described as “blurry,” “mirages,” and, most commonly, as “shadowy” or “made of shadows.”
Often, a few of these figures will seem to take no interest in the test subject but will instead explore their surrounding environment. They will appear to touch items, rifle through piles of paper, page through books, operate computers, etc., though recordings demonstrate that they do not actually manipulate objects in any observable way.
Twice, a figure reportedly has appeared to handle and operate a device “like a Geiger counter,” with which the figure seemed to scan objects or take readings for the duration of the sighting.
Upon review of archived episodes of “[REDACTED],” the show appears never to have referenced or depicted anything resembling the figures which have appeared to all test subjects. After experimentation, test subjects, even those who expressed eagerness and/or amusement at the prospect of wearing SCP-362, express unease when prompted to discuss the show.
Though these figures reveal themselves only to the test subject, do not generate significant fluctuations in sensory equipment, and fail to manipulate physical objects, it is recommended that security protocol regarding SCP-362 include vault containment with access granted only to relevant researchers and personnel.
In light of incident SCP-362-02, and in order to avoid cross-contamination of SCPs and prevent security breaches, no items, information, or personnel of Level 2 clearance or higher may ever be present in SCP-362's chamber prior to, during, or immediately after experimentation. Furthermore, under no circumstances may SCP-362 be worn by any person for longer than 9 days.
Addendum: Immediately prior to said incident, test subject had worn SCP-362 for 31 days. As per research protocol, test subject had not been informed of the effects of doffing SCP-362. Upon removal, Site-██ experienced a containment breach which lasted ██ minutes when primary and secondary power systems simultaneously failed. All debriefed personnel at Site-██ reported experiencing feelings of dread during the breach, many of whom were trapped in rooms without power or means of egress when failsafe systems activated. Some personnel reported the sensation that other persons inhabited the room with them during the breach despite being alone immediately beforehand. Many personnel felt as though they were being watched.
Immediately after the breach, upon restoration of secondary power (primary power took an additional █ minutes to come back online), Site-██ personnel discovered files scattered, books open, and notes in disarray. IT division reported that several computers and other devices had accessed [DATA EXPUNGED].
Test subject expired due to ventricular fibrillation █ minutes after secondary power failed. Autopsy revealed abnormally high adrenaline levels in subject's bloodstream.
Authorization to upgrade SCP-362 to Euclid class pending.
Interview Log for Experiment 362-██
Interviewer: Dr. █████ with Dr. ██
Test Subject: D-1022
Time: 5 minutes

[DATA EXPUNGED]
Dr. █████: Please describe your surroundings.
D-1022: I don't know. It's like an office, I guess? Papers. Notepads. There's a box in front of me.
Dr. █████: Is anyone in the room with you?
D-1022 [chuckling]: I thought you were watching me. Y'know, through cameras.
Dr. █████: We are. Is there anyone in the room with you?
D-1022: Is there supposed to be? Ain't no one in here but me.
Dr. █████: Thank you. Please use the key provided to open the box in front of you, then put on what you find inside.
D-1022 [after brief silence]: What, it's just a shirt. [Louder:] Oh hell yeah, “[REDACTED]?” Ah man I used to watch that show all the time.
Dr. █████: Please put it on.
D-1022: Sure thing. Haha, can I keep it?
Dr. █████ [with some amusement]: I'm afraid not.
D-1022: Show was the shit.
[Subject sings what has been identified as the theme song of said children's program as he puts on SCP-362.]
D-1022: Okay, it's on. So… what now?
Dr. █████: You'll receive further instructions in 5 minutes. Until then, you may busy yourself with whatever you find in the room.
[Subject swivels back and forth in his chair as he hums aforementioned tune. At T minus 3 minutes, he draws humanoid figures with a pen.]
Dr. █████: Can you tell me why you've drawn those figures?
D-1022: Just keeping busy, like you said.
Dr. █████: Yes, but why those particular figures?
D-1022: What? You're telling me you never watched “[REDACTED]?”
Dr. █████: We've reviewed some episodes, yes.
D-1022 [pointing]: This is [REDACTED]. Come on, man, don't tell me you don't see the resemblance.
Dr. █████ [with amusement]: Oh yes, of course. It's the very likeness of him.
D-1022: Phff… whatever. I'm a good artist.
Dr. █████: Time is up. You may remove that item of clothing.
D-1022: All right.
[Subject removes SCP-362 over his head. The instant he can see again, D-1022 stumbles backwards against the desk behind him.]
D-1022: Ohhh shit, SHIT!
Dr. █████: What's wrong?
D-1022: What is this? What's going on!?
Dr. █████: Please describe your surroundings.
D-1022: Who are all these people!?
Dr. █████: Please describe what you see.
D-1022: They're – they're watching me! They're ghosts or something. Get me out of here!
Dr. █████: You are not in any danger. Please describe them in further detail.
D-1022: What do you want? What do you want!
[Subject rushes forward.]
D-1022: You want a piece of this!? Stop fuckin' moving!
Dr. █████: You are not in any danger. Please do not attack them.
Dr. ██ [to Dr. █████, inaudible to D-1022]: If he provokes them, maybe we'll get some new data.
[D-1022 continues to turn and lunge at unseen opponents for 16 seconds of silence. Then:]
D-1022: Where'd they go?
Dr. █████: They're gone? Describe how they went.
D-1022: They just… went. Just — one minute they're there and then… what were they?
[D-1022 begins to shiver visibly.]
Dr. █████: Is something wrong? Is it colder in the room? [To Dr. ██:] Can I get a temperature reading?
Dr. ██ [overlapping]: It's normal. No change.
Dr. █████: D-1022, is it colder in the room than it was before?
D-1022: Get me out of here. I'm not telling you anything else until you let me out.
[DATA EXPUNGED]

Experiment Logs
[DATA EXPUNGED]
362-E005
Date: 03/06/20██
D-2323, recruited specifically for this experiment due to his skill at dart-throwing, wore SCP-362 for five minutes. After-effects lasted two minutes and thirty six seconds. During this period, D-2323 was encouraged to throw darts at the figures and report verbally on results. Due to panic which D-2323 experienced, subject utilized only one minute and six seconds of time available to him. Findings seem to confirm hypothesis based on previous experiments: figures will phase through walls, blink in and out of visibility, and/or move more quickly than seems possible in order to avoid contact with either biological objects or non-biological objects introduced into the chamber with hostile intent.
[DATA EXPUNGED]
362-E012
Date: 05/12/20██
44 D-class personnel introduced into chamber prior to experimentation. Subjects became claustrophobic. Staff introduced a mild tranquilizing gas into chamber to avoid compromising the experiment. Afterward, D-3197 wore SCP-362 for 5 minutes, and, during that time, led the other participants in a chorus of the television show's theme song. This appears to have been the result of introducing the gas into the chamber, and is likely not an effect of SCP-362, though further experimentation may be necessary to confirm this hypothesis. After D-3197 was instructed to remove SCP-362, he reported seeing figures for approximately two minutes and thirty seconds.
Immediately upon removal, 9 D-class personnel disappeared from the chamber. D-3197 reported that, where the vanished D-class personnel had stood, the figures appeared in their place. Remaining D-class personnel exhibited signs of panic, despite lacking the ability to see the figures themselves. In order to avoid a possible containment breach due to D-class personnel overcoming the effects of the tranquilizer and causing damage to the test chamber and/or each other, a paralytic agent was introduced into the room.
Incident Log SCP-362-03
Date: ██/██/████
After Experiment 362-E012, researchers have identified anomalous data appearing on terminals during SCP-362 experimentation. First sample located on terminal ██-████-██'s hard drive after post-experimentation scan (see Experiment Log for 362-E013). Two more samples generated during E014 and E015. Current hypothesis posits a correlation between missing D-class personnel and content of anomalous data. Find a sample of said data attached. For full documentation, see ████-████████████.

i was one who sang and one who watched the song and now we watch the song and watch for signs
it is 2.957 it is 3.6602 it is 5.5 repeating it is 5 it is 4.3 it is 10,055,092.3 it is repeating
these are signs there are more signs but these are signs we have seen when we watched the song
the song.
we see the song at all times always at each time we see the song we
have and duly note the sign of 3.6602 and the sign of 5.5 repeating it is repeating
these are the signs.
3.6602 5.5 repeating 2.957 5 4.3 10,055,093.3
we are watching the signs at all times
we are watching then and now and now we duly note that
we are watching

« SCP-361 | SCP-362 | SCP-363 »


Item #: SCP-363
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-363 specimens are contained in a 2 m x 2 m x 2 m room that is to be constantly illuminated by high-powered lighting. This lighting must be connected to multiple redundant power sources, and in case of total system failure, Mobile Task Force Eta-Seven is to be dispatched to assess the threat.
SCP-363 is to be fed twenty (20) lab mice, administered once every forty-eight (48) hours.
Description: Ostensibly, SCP-363 are identical to Scolopendra gigantea, or the Amazonian giant centipede. Dietary needs are identical, and DNA inspection has proven no dissimilarities to normal S. gigantea.
SCP-363 is, under normal circumstances, the appropriate size for S. gigantea. In darkness, (darkness defined here as any level of light under 2 lux) which it actively seeks out, however, SCP-363 will grow rapidly and erratically, to sizes up to and exceeding 10 m x 2 m. SCP-363 does not retain the form of a centipede under these conditions. So far, reports have documented: proboscises, tentacles, highly elongated mandibles, an inconsistent number of eyes and legs, and, in one case, [DATA EXPUNGED]. SCP-363 will revert back to normal size and appearance after 2-3 hours of illumination of a level of at least 50 lux.
SCP-363 will attack any animal emitting body heat, and appears to be able to detect and hunt in total darkness. It is assumed it uses other senses to hunt, with vision in a secondary position.
Reproductive cycle of SCP-363 is similar to that of normal S. gigantea, with one difference. Rather than in a cluster of leaves and dirt, eggs are laid and fertilized in the █████ cavity of paralyzed [DATA EXPUNGED], followed by death.
Addendum 1: Note from Dr. Skalder: We've determined that fire seems to scare or ward off SCP-363. In light of this, we have equipped three of the members of MTF Eta-Seven, "Creepy Crawlies", with military-issue M2A1-7 flamethrowers.
Addendum 2: Incident report of breach.

Document# 363-Alpha: Breach 1
Personnel involved: MTF-Eta-7
Date: 21-5-2003
Location: Site-██
Description: Attempted retrieval of SCP-363 specimen during power failure/containment breach.
<Start of audio log>
MTF Eta-7 Commander Johnson: Perts, any word from Technical on (distortion) cameras?
Contactsman Perts: No dice, commander. Complete equipment failure throughout the sector.
C. Johnson: Alright. Night-vision on, motion-sensors go. Fredmann, McShaugn, Aidelare, report to rendezvous point.
Lieutenant McShaugn: Copy that, commander. Sub-team Hornet coming in, over.
C. Johnson: Sub-team Wasp, come in.
(Radio silence)
C. Johnson: Wasp, do you copy? Over.
Unknown: (Shouting) Jesus Christ almighty, torch that ███████- (signal cuts out)
C. Johnson: Damn it. O'Denn? O'Denn, can you hear me? What is your position? Over.
Lieutenant O'Denn: Outside of Lab 8. We found it, sir. It's holed up in there. It got De Aunaign. Over.
C. Johnson: Casualty?
L. O'Denn: Mangled leg, sir. We scared the ██████ in there with the flamethrower, don't think it's coming out. Are they fixing the power yet? Over.
C. Johnson: Forget about that, O'Denn. Tell Von Hower to keep his flamer trained on the door. Hornet, can you hear me? Over.
L. McShaugn: Loud and clear, sir.
C. Johnson: Forget the rendezvous. Relocate to Lab 8, don't engage yet. Copy?
L. McShaugn: Going (interrupted by loud noise) ████ my grandmother! What was that?! Aidelare, do you see anything?! Over!
Flamer Aidelare: (Extensive swearing) There's another one of those ███████ in here! Second containment breach, commander!
C. Johnson: Has it seen you? Over.
F. Aidelare: I don't reckon, sir.
C. Johnson: Good. Try to keep it that way. Perts, how many of those things did they keep in here?
C.M Perts: (Relays question to contact.) Eight, sir.
C. Johnson: Good God. Okay, tell 'em "████ the preservation and detonate the gas charges".
C.M Perts: They uh, they can't, sir.
C. Johnson: Why the ████ not, Perts?
[DATA EXPUNGED]
L. O'Denn: So we're all ██████ three days from Sunday. Good to know. Orders, commander?
C. Johnson: ████ 'em all and burn it down, O'Denn. Tell Von Hower and Aidelare to set fire to Lab 8, then split up and do a sweep of the area. Neutralize all hostile centipede █████████████.
L. O'Denn: Copy that.
C. Johnson: Perts, still no contact with Blackfly?
C.M Perts: Blackfly, report in.
(Radio silence)
C.M Perts: No Blackfly.
C. Johnson: I gathered, Perts. Alright, O'Denn, status repo-
Unknown: (Gasping, groaning)
C. Johnson: The…who's that? Identify.
Unknown: Flamer Tell, sir.
C. Johnson: What is your status, Tell? What of Blackfly? Over.
F. Tell: …dead. Everyone.
C. Johnson: Repeat that, Tell?
F. Tell: (screaming) We're all ███████ dead down here, commander! I saw one of them…one of them pulled Doug apart…just…just in half. It laid all these eggs, and another one squirted this jizz over them. They hatched…they hatched so fast…more of those things…ate him so fast…dozens of them…eating Howard now…I liked Howard, commander…eating him…eating him…
C. Johnson: Calm down, Tell, for God's sake. What's your personal status?
F. Tell: They're on my legs…I can see 'em…but I can't feel it…biting me…
(Radio silence)
F. Tell: I feel something…burning…like bubbling…
C. Johnson: Tell. Self-terminate. That's an order. I'm sorry.
F. Tell: (Unintelligible)
C. Johnson: God damn it, Tell! Do you copy?! Immediate self-termination!
F. Tell: (Warped voice) The flesh is like milk to us.
C. Johnson: What the hell are you saying, Tell?
F. Tell: We are one.
C. Johnson: I think he's gone crazy.
F. Tell: One is all. (Cracking noises)
C. Johnson: Wasp, Hornet. Come in.
(Radio Silence)
C. Johnson: Wasp, Hornet. Come in, damn it.
L. O'Denn: (Same warped voice as documented with Flamer Tell) We are here. There are many.
C. Johnson: Perts? Tell command we're evacuating the premises. Mission failure.
C.M Perts: Sir, yes sir.
C. Johnson: Air strike and full bombardment once we're out. No - (interrupted by crashing sound) Jesus Christ, what-
(tearing sounds)
(Five minutes of radio silence, C. Johnson presumed dead)
Unknown individual, presumed C.M Perts: Hear, o Israel. Y-H-W-H is our God, Y-H-W-H alone.
(Gunshot)
<End of audio log>
Post-script: Site-██ fire-bombed. Several undamaged and fertilized SCP-363 eggs retrieved. Contained. All members of MTF Eta-7 presumed dead. New team established. - O5-█

Addendum 3: Interview

Interviewed: Janitor ███ █████
Interviewer: [DATA EXPUNGED], referred to as “I.”
Foreword: Interview conducted after █████ professed to a possible SCP-sighting after firebombing of Site-██.
<Begin Log>
I.: Hello, ███. Please sit down. Thank you, now, you said you saw “something” after the firebombing. Care to expand on that?
███: It was…well, one of those guys from the MTF you had stationed there. Eta-7. One of those guys, yeah.
I.: Do you know his name, perchance?
███: Yeah, yeah, I talked to him once. That guy, ███████ Tell. One of the flamers.
I.: Are you sure it was him?
███: (Short silence) No. No, I ain't sure. It…it looked like him, for sure. But there were all these things…growing out of him. Like insect legs, but, all in random places…from his chest, his arms, and…one of ‘em was pokin' out of of his eyeball. His eye was just gone. And his mouth…there were these, like, these pinchers. Mandibles. All black. And there were these things…
I.: Continue.
███: These things…centipedes…crawling in and outta holes in his flesh. He looked at me – his one eye'd gone all…it looked all like a bug's eye, with facets, and stuff, and…he laughed. I think he did, anyway.
I.: And then?
███: He…he ran away.
I.: Thank you.
<End Log>

Addendum 4

Security Level 4

Announcement: Signal of standard MTF anti-defection tracker located [DATA EXPUNGED], eighteen miles away from Site-██. Signal associated with ███████ Tell. Tracking procedure initialized. Infection risk to be negated at all costs. -O5-█

« SCP-362 | SCP-363 | SCP-364 »


Surt (circled, near top center) is on the side of Io that always faces Jupiter. For scale, Io is 3642 km in diameter, slightly larger than Earth's Moon.

Item #: SCP-364
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: Since SCP-364 cannot be reached by humans, containment measures consist primarily of finding and suppressing any information about SCP-364 before such information can be publicly disseminated. Foundation assets have been inserted into all major space agencies and most private space exploration companies, with standing orders to report back on any actions planned or being carried out that could potentially expose SCP-364. A task force has also been set up to monitor actions by amateur astronomers, although the chances of independent discovery of SCP-364 from ground-based installations are quite small.
Description: SCP-364 is a point several hundred meters above the volcano Surt on Io, the innermost of Jupiter's Galilean satellites. At irregular intervals, varying amounts of material (up to 4000 cubic meters at a time) spontaneously appear at this location and settle into Surt, where the material is incinerated by the lava flow from the volcano. The mechanism by which this material appears is not known, and no permanent physical structure has as yet been detected near SCP-364, at any other location on Io, or anywhere else in the Jovian system. In addition, no unusual energy emissions have been detected coming from SCP-364 or the surrounding area.
The material that appears is usually a heterogeneous mixture of substances, including metals (particularly ferrous and titanitic alloys), organic compounds, siliceous compounds, and several unknown materials (though spectrographic analysis suggests that these may include stable super-heavy elements). On at least four occasions, probes have detected marks on the material that appear to be a written language in an unknown script. In addition, a strong correlation has been discovered between the thermal output of Surt and the appearance of material at SCP-364. Although any potential causative relationship between the two phenomena is purely speculative, evidence collected to date overwhelmingly suggests that the material that appears at SCP-364 is artificial in origin.
History: The existence of SCP-364 was first suggested in 1979, following the fly-by of Jupiter by the Voyager 1 probe. Unusual activity on Io had been picked up by [DATA EXPUNGED], part of a clandestine package of instruments added to both Voyager 1 and Voyager 2 by Foundation assets. However, the existence of SCP-364 could not be confirmed until the Galileo probe reached Jupiter in December 1995, using data and images collected by Galileo during its initial pass of Io. None of these images or data were released, the official story being that no images were taken in the first place.
While Galileo was left to continue its original mission around Jupiter, Foundation personnel worked with high-ranking NASA officials to develop and launch two more probes to Io, specifically to study and monitor SCP-364. However, to avoid suspicion, these missions to Io were announced and treated as exploratory missions to Mars. In late 1999, both the Mars Climate Orbiter and the Mars Polar Lander appeared to crash land on Mars due to "human error", when in actuality both spacecraft continued on their way to Io, reaching Jupiter in 2007. Galileo had already been sent to its destruction in Jupiter's atmosphere by this time, but the two "Mars" probes continue to send back data from Io and SCP-364. The replacements for these probes are already [DATA EXPUNGED].
Note: Because Io is constantly subjected to heavy radiation and Jupiter's formidable magnetosphere, any spacecraft sent into orbit around Io would be very short-lived, and the two probes up there now are in orbit around Europa and Jupiter. Thus, constant observation of SCP-364 is not possible, but this is not a major issue while SCP-364 remains immobile. A more pressing concern is technology: how long will it be before anyone in the world can point a next-generation telescope at Io and be able to resolve 10-meter-long objects from the Earth's surface? Plus, who's to say that whatever is sending that stuff to Io couldn't send it somewhere else? —Dr. Blanchard

« SCP-363 | SCP-364 | SCP-365 »


Item #: SCP-365
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-365 is to be stored in a storage locker at Storage Site-23. SCP-365 must be kept away from any body of water except for testing purposes. SCP-365 is to be kept in its testing pool at all times. The door to the pool is to be locked and guarded by one security guard (see Addendum 365-02). Experiment requests must be approved by a Level-3 researcher.
Description: SCP-365 is a green pool noodle made of polyethylene foam. By itself, it displays no unusual properties and is physically identical to a typical noodle of similar size. SCP-365's unusual properties manifest only when it is placed in a body of water. When a subject completely submerges in said body of water, they become unable to get out.
Subjects report a sense of dread, and describe themselves in an infinite sea, swimming endlessly in a direction and finding only more water (see Audio Log 365-03). It is important to note that to outside observers, the subject simply seems to be flailing in place.
The only way to remove a submerged person from the water is to remove SCP-365, negating its effects. All other methods of rescue have failed; cables and ropes have exhibited an unnatural resistance and snapped, drainage systems have failed, and human intervention has led to [DATA EXPUNGED].
Addendum 365-01: SCP-365 was discovered in ███████, ██████, on ██/██/19██. Retrieval personnel found it at the ██████████ Public Pool along with the bodies of ██ civilians. Because SCP-365's properties were unknown at the time, █ agents lost their lives. SCP-365 was eventually found and removed from the pool, and carbon monoxide from an improperly maintained water heater was used as a cover story.
Addendum 365-02: On ██/██/20██, Researcher █████ discovered that Hallway 19 of Storage-Site 23 was flooded. █████ noticed water leaking from SCP-365's storage locker at a rate of 5 L/min. She quickly notified Doctor █████, who opened the locker to find SCP-365 producing water from its holes. SCP-365 was subsequently moved to its testing pool, whereupon the flow of water stopped. SCP-365's containment procedures have been changed accordingly.

« SCP-364 | SCP-365 | SCP-366 »


Item #: SCP-366
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: All SCP-366 specimens, regardless of stage, are to be stored in a Level 4 Biological Hazard freezing unit at Biological Research Site-66. Cryopreservation is to be achieved through freezing in liquid nitrogen at a constant temperature of -196 °C to prevent activation. Due to the diminutive nature of SCP-366 ova, these specimens are to be stored in a near vacuum class III biosafety cabinet to avoid accidental dispersion, in addition to cryopreservation as outlined above.
All specimens and infested hosts are only to be handled by authorized personnel wearing Level A hazmat suits with SCBA, and all personnel involved in the handling of SCP-366 are to be scanned by MRI for possible infestation before entering and after exiting containment facilities.
If an infestation is detected, specific procedures are to be followed depending on the sex of the host. Males are to be detained and subjected to a dual inguinal orchiectomy by resident Level 3 or higher medical staff. All medical offal is to be disposed of according to the HazB-Inf/142b protocol. A secondary scan for infestation is to be performed after recovery in quarantine to verify the success of the procedure and to rule out residual infestation. Females found to have suffered infestation are to be likewise detained and placed in quarantine under medical observation 24 hours per day until such time as an ABE-366 event occurs.
Should signs of an imminent ABE-366 event be detected, the host is to be sedated using benzodiazepines, the dosage to be determined by the resident head of medical staff. The host's quarantine cell is then to be evacuated of all personnel. Due to the dangers of hearing loss, immediate containment of SCP-366 specimens exiting the host's body is essential. Post-event, both the host and any affected personnel are to be screened for (continued) infestation and treated accordingly. If no such infestation is detected and the host survived, class-A amnestics may be administered and the host need no longer be detained. No special social reintegration procedures apply.
As locations where SCP-366 ova are deposited shift if sealed off permanently, containment of these areas focuses on detection, quarantine of hosts and containment of specimens. If celestial events known to trigger the appearance of SCP-366 ova can be foreseen, sites are to be closed down temporarily. If need be, ova may be harvested for research. In all other situations, ova are to be allowed to expire before sites are declared open again.
If infestation is detected outside of Foundation control, hosts are to be detained and subjected to the stipulations above. The procedures outlined above are then to be applied to locations linked to these cases.
Critical infestations occurring outside of the Foundation's control warrant a full quarantine of all individuals in contact with the deceased. If necessary, temporary research and detainment sites are to be established around large-scale hotzones.
Description: SCP-366 refers to a human endoparasite of unknown, possibly extraterrestrial origin that starts its lifecycle in an ovum stage. In male hosts, ova can develop into a larval stage. In female hosts, larval stage specimens may transition to the adult stage. Larvae introduced to male hosts and ova introduced to female hosts live at most three hours before expiring due to a lack of the hormones necessary for their further development. Attempts to cultivate infestations in other organisms have not yielded any results, with SCP-366 specimens of any stage expiring as expected when outside a human host.
Ova measure approximately 1 micrometer in diameter and have never been recovered unfertilized. When encountered outside of a host, ova are dormant with the embryo in developmental stasis. Larvae measure between 0.1 - 0.2 mm and display physical characteristics of the larvae of Ochlerotatus cantato. Despite this resemblance, research has indicated no DNA matches with that species nor any of its family. Adult SCP-366 specimens resemble the larvae of Tenebrio molitor though they are significantly larger (9.3 cm - 14.8 cm). Again, this resemblance is superficial only.
Upon introduction of SCP-366 ova to a male host via inhalation or ingestion specimens travel through the body to settle in the testes. An ovum stage specimen monitors its host's testosterone levels for between 27-32 days. After that period of time, any significant increase in testosterone over the usual levels will trigger a transition to larval stage. SCP-366 larvae lie dormant in the testes, waiting to be transmitted to a female host. Symptoms that male hosts may display at this time include muscle pains, fevers and a small amount of blood in the host's urine. Larva developed in male hosts are transmitted to female hosts through ejaculation. If ejaculation does not occur, larval stage specimens will remain in the host's system indefinitely, waiting to be transferred to a female host. Lifespan has not as of yet been established for these larvae.
SCP-366 infestation in female hosts occurs after unprotected copulation with infested males. Larvae transmitted in this manner attach to the lining of the uterus and feed on the host's output of 17ß-estradiol to grow to their adult form. An infestation with adult specimens produces symptoms resembling pregnancy which may include:
- Nausea
- A swelling of the abdominal area
- Light blood loss in stool or vaginal fluids
- Abdominal cramps
During this gestation period the SCP-366 specimens present in the uterus will display ovophagous behavior, with the larger and stronger specimens killing and assimilating weaker ones. This process continues until only one specimen survives. After three to six weeks, the remaining adult specimen leaves the host in an ABE-366 event. Specimens birthed in this manner will take flight through unknown means and attempt to gain access to the open sky. If successful, specimens will ascend towards the [REDACTED] system at an average rate of 114 km/h. Research using tracking devices attached to birthed specimens has yielded little result, with signals lost in the vicinity of [REDACTED]. Specimens prevented from reaching the open sky will produce a sustained high-pitched sound at approximately 101 dB.
An infestation is designated critical if abnormally elevated levels of 17ß-estradiol in males cause larval stage specimens to develop into adult stage prematurely. These cases are invariably fatal to the host as large numbers of immature adult stage specimens leave the host's body in an abrupt mass exodus. There was only one recorded critical infestation amongst infested males in Foundation custody.
SCP-366 ovum stage specimens can be found exclusively in the state of Massachusetts, always at exposed locations known locally for adolescent sexual activity. Certain celestial events, such as meteor showers, may trigger the descent of SCP-366 ova. The amount of ova deposited during these events ranges from approximately 1.000 to 10.000 depending on the level of activity at the location. The exact origin of the ova remains untraceable at this point.
Addendum 366-A-01:

It was so beautiful, man. Just me, Lorraine, the night sky and all those falling stars…
-Host 366-28289F (deceased)

« SCP-365 | SCP-366 | SCP-367 »


Item #: SCP-367
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-367's containment area is to be checked daily for damage done by SCP-367. Any and all damage to containment area is to be repaired immediately. Should damage exceed that which can be repaired in a 12-hour period, SCP-367 is to be moved to a temporary containment area and kept under constant observation while repairs are made. Any attempts by SCP-367 to damage or escape containment are to immediately be met with Chemical Suppression Tactic A-11 (CST A-11).
Every two hours, SCP-367 is to be provided with one (1) kilogram of "feed", which may be composed of any available bio-matter. In the event that no suitable bio-mass is available, other items may be provided for consumption and CST A-11 is to be placed on stand-by in case of rejection behavior by SCP-367. SCP-367 is to be weighed after each feeding period to monitor weight and density increase leading up to division.
Additional instances of SCP-367 forming in containment are to be disposed of. No unprotected interaction with SCP-367 is to be undertaken unless it is within thirty (30) minutes of a feeding period. SCP-367 may not be removed from the containment area without approval by Site Command. No instances of SCP-367 are to be released to staff for any purpose other than testing.
Description: SCP-367 appears to be a small dog of variable breed, most often appearing as a small, brown puppy. SCP-367 exhibits a slightly elevated appetite and activity level for a dog of its apparent age and size, and does not sleep, but otherwise behaves as expected for a dog.
SCP-367 is a massive single-celled organism, composed of what appears to be a mass of "yellow slime" with several white "threads" suspended in it, with a semi-solid sphere of gray material in the center, deemed the "nucleus". It is unknown what SCP-367 is made of, or why its outer "shell" appears to be a juvenile dog; however, testing [DATA EXPUNGED] further investigation. The "strings" appear to function as the muscular-skeletal system and under most circumstances the movement and general behavior of SCP-367 are indistinguishable from a normal dog.
SCP-367 is capable of feeding on any solid matter, and has shown the ability to dissolve and digest concrete, steel, titanium, carbon fiber, bone, wood, [DATA EXPUNGED]. When presented with an item that cannot fit into the external shell's mouth, or be broken down with the teeth, SCP-367 will project pseudopodia from its internal mass and break down the matter into a consumable form. It is unknown how this occurs, as no acid is used, but it appears to be a disruption of the basic atomic bonds of the matter which is still under investigation.
SCP-367 does not increase in size when consuming items, but does increase in density. In addition, SCP-367 does not produce any waste. After consuming enough material to double its starting mass, SCP-367 will find an isolated location, such as in a cabinet or under furniture, and liquefy its outer shell. It will then divide into two equal masses and reform its outer shell, creating two instances of SCP-367.
If SCP-367 is left without food for more than three hours, the internal "strings" will project from the "eyes" and "mouth" areas of SCP-367 and attempt to bore into and break down all nearby matter. In this state, SCP-367 is highly aggressive, and has been observed to [DATA EXPUNGED].
Notes on recovery: SCP-367 was recovered from the residential home of Ms. Myra Bancroft in Ireland. Mrs. Bancroft was reported missing several days before, and Foundation staff established containment of her residence when it was reported that she had over eighty small dogs in her home, which had consumed her corpse and most of the home. A single instance of SCP-367 was recovered, with all other instances eliminated via CST A-11.
Ongoing monitoring is in effect to isolate any remaining SCP-367 outside of containment.

« SCP-366 | SCP-367 | SCP-368 »


Item #: SCP-368
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-368 has not yet warranted any need for containment. Though it has the movement patterns and behavior common to a normal bird, neither it nor any of its copies (see Addendum) have shown any desire to migrate from the offices in which they are stored.
Description: SCP-368 is an animated origami crane folded from ornate, heavy-stock paper. Left to its own devices, it will perch, preen, fly from platform to platform, groom, and occasionally construct a makeshift nest out of nearby office supplies. It responds to human touch affectionately, much as a domesticated bird would. The item's demeanor is, on the whole, friendly, and it has been observed to perch on the shoulders of various SCP personnel. Though the item needs no source of nourishment, it appears to "sleep" at night in that it places its head under its wing. Studying the physical properties of SCP-368 has proven difficult: the item seems to interpret attempts to capture or contain it as a game and has displayed considerable agility and resourcefulness in evading even the most focused attempts at containment. How SCP-368 stays airborne and maintains its stability while airborne are still not known.
History: SCP-368 was discovered in an office building in ████████, Japan, in 19██. ███ ████ (now employed as [14-1158]), a former employee at the aforementioned building, found the item in a closet full of office supplies. Upon discovery of SCP-368, 14-1158 managed to gain its trust in order to move it to a more secure location. Psychological evaluations of 14-1158 indicated her to be of sufficient mental stability and acuity to warrant a position within the SCP organization.
Cross-SCP Warnings: It is recommended that SCP-368 be isolated from SCP-529 and SCP-530, as contact will almost certainly alarm all three SCP's.
Addendum 0-22: On ██/██/20██, while housed in Research Sector 15, SCP-368 began displaying unusual behavior. Instead of its normal routine of human interaction, grooming, and play, it began hovering over a photocopier (serial number ██████████), "flattening" itself whenever SCP personnel approached. Dr. █████ ██████ ([19-1425]) placed SCP-368 into the photocopier and made a copy, upon which another sheet of paper of identical pattern but different hue emerged from the copier and promptly folded itself a shape mimicking that of the original. SCP-368 and the new specimen (referred to as SCP-368α) resumed usual behavior. Since then SCP-368 has displayed similar behavior at intervals varying between two and four years, while the copies have shown no such behavior. Though initially Overseer O-█ disallowed any employee from aiding in the reproduction of SCP-368, and Dr. █████ ██████ was reprimanded for his action, remarkably high employee morale at Research Sector 15 led to the introduction of the progeny of SCP-368 at further SCP facilities.

« SCP-367 | SCP-368 | SCP-369 »


Item #: SCP-369
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-369 is to be monitored by time-lapse camera feed, to be reviewed for anomalous behavior every twenty four hours. Motion sensitive perimeter alert devices should be placed at the borders of SCP-369 each time it relocates, with at least three Level 1 personnel nearby to behave as a semi-active construction crew when under observation. Personnel are to avoid directly observing SCP-369 when no other potential observers are present, though indirect viewing through video or even mirrors has no effect, allowing SCP-369 to continue as normal.
Under no circumstances should actual construction work be attempted on SCP-369, nor should the equipment around it be used. Upon loss of contact with SCP-369 when its task is finished, site monitoring should be repackaged and ready for transit to a new location. Once 24 hours have passed, all roads within 75 km (46.6 miles) should be examined for construction work not matching work schedules of the regional government. Only paved roads are to be examined, beginning with sections of road with comparatively lower usage.
Description: SCP-369 is a migratory road construction zone which repairs stretches of road left untended by repair crews. It generates nonfunctional look-alikes of several essential road construction vehicles, of note being a small steam-roller and an earth mover, the latter being anything from a bobcat to a backhoe. The traffic cones present at the border of the effect are actual traffic cones, lacking any serial number or manufacturer's mark, and always appear to have been in use for at least a few years. If removed from the site, the cones vanish when unobserved. The machines cannot be used or maintained, and testing has shown it unwise to try.
The repair process takes up to four days, as the road undergoes a semi-organic healing process when not directly observed, resulting in mundane yet professional quality patches made to the pavement. No special properties have been observed in the stretches of road already visited by SCP-369: they resume weathering and wearing down like any normal road as soon as SCP-369 is not present.
Tests with construction on and attempted disruption of SCP-369 have resulted every time with the subject being covered in liquid tar and [DATA EXPUNGED] until the bones and inorganic hard materials were ejected onto the roadside. Effect seems limited to paved United States roadways, and no line-repainting is done.
Addendum: Attempts by Level 2 research staff to redirect SCP-369 to specific roadwork locations has been so far unsuccessful, though some progress has been made in trying to identify potential targets in advance.

« SCP-368 | SCP-369 | SCP-370 »


Item #: SCP-370
Object Class: Keter
WARNING: SCP-370 is an exceedingly contagious memetic infection. No cases of personnel being infected simply from reading this article have yet been recorded, but nevertheless as a precaution this document may only be read in a controlled environment with mechanisms in place to terminate the reader at the first symptoms. Spreading any information about SCP-370 by word of mouth is grounds for immediate termination.
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-370 itself is embedded in a small slab of solid lead and kept inside a solid steel box with no openings and 0.5 meter thick walls. Under no circumstances is SCP-370 to be removed from either this box or the lead slab. If SCP-370 becomes partially or completely exposed, blindfolded personnel will be assigned to locate it with a metal detector. An electromagnet will then be used to transfer SCP-370 to a small mold filled with molten lead. Once this has hardened the lead slab containing SCP-370 will be returned to its steel box, and the box returned to its containment vault.
This box is kept in a specially designated vault at Site-██. SCP-370 requires no maintenance whatsoever and no research is authorized. Desire to open this vault to perform research on SCP-370 or for any other reason is a symptom of SCP-370 infection. Any personnel displaying this or any other symptoms must be quarantined immediately and terminated if symptoms persist.
SCP-370's vulnerability status is unknown. No testing of this sort has been carried out, and no future testing is authorized due to the extreme risk of contagion to personnel involved.
D-class personnel with significant violent or sadistic tendencies are to be preferred in all interactions with SCP-370 or potentially SCP-370 contagious data.
All live broadcasting capability will be removed from any Foundation Site that shows signs of SCP-370 presence and restored one (1) year after the last SCP-370 event.
Any personnel assigned to SCP-370 who show a sudden improvement in overall well-being should be quarantined and deprived of sleep. If any personnel continue to display ‘happiness' symptoms despite this measure termination will be authorized.
Description: SCP-370 is a key. The size, shape, material and general appearance of SCP-370 are unknown. Knowledge of these characteristics is the primary vector for the spread of the SCP-370 disease, therefore all records thought to contain such information have been destroyed without review.
The disease caused by SCP-370 has three distinct sets of symptoms, designations SCP-370-a, b and c. The form of the disease appearing in any given subject appears to be determined primarily by personality.
- SCP-370-a manifests most frequently in subjects characterized by their peers as self-centered or cowardly. It is the most common manifestation. Subjects suffering from SCP-370-a show no symptoms upon the initial infection. However, these subjects will commit suicide as soon as they have an opportunity to do so with minimal suffering (for example, SCP-370-a victims will jump from high ledges or shoot themselves in the head with firearms, but will not cut their own wrists or hang themselves).
The instant the subject's heart ceases to beat, the infected corpse will glow brilliantly and undergo an unknown transformation. Detailed knowledge of the transformation is a vector for the infection, as is direct visual contact with the light produced. No trace of any part of a subject's corpse has ever been recovered following this transformation.
- The majority of SCP-370-b subjects are commonly described as both extroverted and altruistic, however, an identical manifestation of SCP-370-b appears in individuals with strong sadistic or violent tendencies. Subjects infected with SCP-370-b initially become very calm. This stage lasts for several seconds, and is followed by a sudden unprovoked assault on anyone within the subject's reach, which continues into an indiscriminate killing spree. Persons killed by the infected subject will glow brightly and undergo an unknown transformation, presumably the same or similar to that of the suicides.
Initially the infected subject is no more dangerous than an ordinary violent human, however after approximately killing two (2) to three (3) victims the subject's body will begin to radiate yellow light. This light appears to inhibit the sympathetic nervous response of the subject's victims, making it difficult for victims to fight back. After approximately five (5) to six (6) successful kills, the light triples in intensity and the direct skin-to-skin contact with the subject becomes deadly. At this point any eye contact with the victim becomes a contagious factor.
After killing an average of twelve (12) victims (subjects who were considered violent prior to infection may require as many as fifty (50) kills to reach this stage) the subject will abruptly cease hostilities and enter the final phase of SCP-370-b infection. Subjects will raise its arms skyward and shout in a slightly amplified voice, “████ take me home!” This sound seems to pass through soundproof walls and industrial strength earmuffs with only slight muffling. Infection of all human beings within earshot is virtually guaranteed, except in cases of sensory deafness. After this cry, a shaft of radiation in the visible spectrum forms around the subject, who will then levitate several feet above the ground before [REDACTED] and vanishing. As with SCP-370-a, no traces of the vanished subjects have ever been found.
- SCP-370-c manifests in subjects of high IQ and analytical or contemplative personality type and is the most dangerous of the three manifestations. Unfortunately the majority of the Foundation's research staff are susceptible to SCP-370-c. Upon initial infection, subjects will close their eyes and remain voluntarily still and silent for an average of thirty (30) seconds. If questioned on this, subjects will claim to have been ‘praying.' Any infected subjects detected at this stage must be terminated immediately and by any means necessary.
After the initial infection subjects will behave as normal, but with significant increase in ‘sense of well-being.' This system persists even when the subject is forced into unpleasant conditions. Infected subjects seem to possess SCP-370 contagious knowledge about the appearance and exact nature of SCP-370 whether or not they have ever been exposed to such information. Subjects will actively and covertly attempt to spread SCP-370 infection, specifically targeting victims likely to manifest SCP-370-a or SCP-370-c. These efforts are likely to include but not limited to:
- Mentioning SCP-370 contagious information in casual conversation.
- Attempting to have SCP-370 removed from containment for research or attempted disposal.
- Adding SCP-370 vectors to Foundation research notes or other documents, including this page.
- Attempting to broadcast infectious material on a large scale.
After about fifty (50) successful infections SCP-370-c enters its final phase. During this phase the air around the subject radiates a small amount of light in the visible spectrum, creating a faint yellow glow around the subject. This glow induces a parasympathetic ‘calming' response in viewers and has a █% chance of causing infection for every minute of visual contact. Within about a day of this radiation appearing, regardless of any further successful infections, a flaming [DATA EXPUNGED] burn marks on any surfaces it touches or passes through and leaving no trace of the infected subject. This event leaves behind an invisible patch of contagious space which infects anyone who passes through it. Patches seem to fade in approximately seven (7) days but as a precaution should be avoided for a full two (2) weeks.
It has become apparent that SCP-370-c infection is being used by some personnel as an excuse to torment and murder fellow Foundation staff. The personnel responsible have been demoted to D-class, however considering the enormous threat posed by SCP-370-c the containment protocol above will not be revised. - Dr ███████
Addendum 370-a:
The circumstances of SCP-370's original retrieval are unknown. It was found in the ruins of Site-█, a remote Foundation base in eastern ████. These containment protocols in their original form and the described steel box were found in a sealed vault along with a single corpse, identified as Dr. █████, a known Satanist, and the Doctor's personal log, which was found to be SCP-370 contagious. The rest of the site was abandoned and no other dead bodies were found, although signs of struggle were ubiquitous. The rest of the site's stored data on SCP-370 had been erased or destroyed, although a few useful notes on other SCPs were recovered, particularly SCP-███.
Several infection events occurred during recovery efforts. These were contained with extreme prejudice and the infection was believed extinct. SCP-370 was briefly designated ‘Safe'. However, in light of recent [DATA EXPUNGED] Keter designation has been restored and anti-memetic security has been tightened throughout all Foundation sites.
Addendum 370-b:
Dr. █████'s log has been successfully purged of memetic infectiousness and is cleared for viewing by authorized personnel. The same precautions described for reading this article also apply to the log.
INCIDENT 370-A

« SCP-369 | SCP-370 | SCP-371 »


Illustration of SCP-371 physiology

Item #: SCP-371
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: All specimens of SCP-371 are to be contained in ocean-water tanks, filled with at least seven hundred fifty (750) liters of water (approx. 200 gallon) per specimen at between 2 and 5 degrees Celsius. Walls may be constructed of any waterproof metal or plate glass, and at least two inches thick. Once every thirty (30) days, a live animal weighing between 25 and 45 kilograms (preferably oceanic fish, although in emergencies, any terrestrial vertebrate including humans with the head kept suspended above water will suffice) is to be deposited in the containment unit. Following the completion of the lytic cycle after ten days, several SCP-371 specimens may be maintained, and all extra are to be strained out of the excurrent water, dried, and incinerated.
Any personnel entering SCP-371's containment chamber intentionally must be equipped with SCUBA gear, commercially available “shark-proof” diving armor, thick faceplates, and kevlar helmets. If these measures fail or are breached for any reason, the animal supply for that month may be skipped.
There are currently 15 SCP-371 specimens in containment.
Description: SCP-371 is a macroscopic marine virus, similar in appearance to a bacteriophage. SCP-371 specimens range in size from between 20 centimeters to 2.5 meters, are somewhat transparent, and can be mistaken for jellyfish in water.
SCP-371's physiology and behavior appear similar to ordinary microscopic viruses, although with several adaptions that make it a notable marine predator: the contractile tail fibers, shown in Image A, are composed of stiffened proteins and are adapted for locomotion (swimming, grasping, walking on the ocean floor); a sharpened and hardened beak-like base plate, rendering the virus capable of injecting genetic material through the dermal skin of multicellular prey; and presumably unknown sensory organs (SCP-371 cannot see or hear, but appears to hunt by sensing heat, vibrations, and pressure/salinity gradients). Most notable is SCP-371's encoding mechanism, which does not use the direct injection of DNA or RNA, but rather numerous microscopic DNA-encoding packets, which enter host cells and use them to respawn the macroscopic organism inside the host.

Stages of SCP-371 Infection
0 Hours, Infection: SCP-371 pierces host's skin and injects genetic material into the host, usually into the cranial or abdominal cavity, causing significant pain.
8 Hours, Transcription (“Bonding”): SCP-371 genetic “packets” begin normal transcription/translation process, bonding with host RNA.
95 Hours, Synthesis (“Spawning”): As host cells replicate, they begin to encode extracellular proteins in the abdominal cavity, which form new SCP-371 specimens over time (between 10 and 100, depending on host size; specimen size also changes with host size).
240 Hours, Lysis (“Bursting”): Once specimens have reached 20 centimeters in size, they exit the host body in a modified bursting pattern, causing severe trauma to the host and often resulting in serious bleeding, internal injuries, and death. SCP-371 lyses only in water, and for terrestrial prey will postpone this stage until the host enters water again.

For the rest of its life cycle, SCP-371 hunts and apparently filters salts and sediments from ocean water in order to grow up to 2.5 meters in size. The virus' average life cycle is 60 days, although the oldest contained specimen is currently 109 days old.
Addendum 371-A
The initial SCP-371 specimens were found in the ████████████ area of the Caribbean Sea, following the death of ████████ ███████, who was attacked when diving with a partner, who managed to capture film of three SCP-371 specimens clinging onto him (two on the head, one on the chest). The specimens lysed ten days later when Mr. ███████ was taking a bath.
Foundation-prepared explorational vehicles discovered and contained the initial specimens. Recently, a civilian research expedition to the Guayamas Basin trench brought up footage of more specimens, and it is theorized that SCP-371 is native to Hadal areas of the ocean floor, including vent areas, surfacing when prey becomes scarce.

« SCP-370 | SCP-371 | SCP-372 »


SCP-372 (clearest known photograph)

Item #: SCP-372
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-372 is to be contained in a cell, 5m x 4m x 2m, lined with reinforced plexiglass. Embedded into each of the four walls of this cell will be one infrared motion detector. Feeding will take place once every two weeks, to consist of 1 kg of red meat and uncooked vegetables, to be deposited in its cell via chute.
All guards working near SCP-372's cell must wear helmets with cameras mounted in the forehead, with live feeds to the nearest guard station. In the event of a containment breach, an alert will be sounded that all personnel should watch for any brief flickering movements in the corner of their eyes, and to report immediately if one is sighted.
Description: SCP-372 is a creature of unknown genus, approximately 2 meters long from head to tail and weighing approximately 45 kilograms. It has a long, thin body with eight pairs of narrow limbs.
Analysis has shown that its muscle fibers are [REDACTED], allowing for extremely fast and precise movements. Every part of the body is abnormally flexible, and the limbs are coated with small fibers that cling to almost any solid surface.
In place of eyes or ears, it has [DATA EXPUNGED]. This sensory organ is capable not only of echolocation but also of detecting energy transfers, such as the electrical impulses in the brains of nearby beings. SCP-372 has learned to time its movements to those pulses, predicting the movements of any being around it. It uses this technique to hide, either by hiding behind the head of a person looking for it or by hiding in their scotomas (blind spots) and saccades (clipping during eye movement).
SCP-372 first came to the attention of the Foundation on █/██/████, when an undercover agent working at █████████ ██████ reported seeing a creature that resembled the described “hallucinations” of one of the patients (Mr. ████ ████████). After thorough investigation, SCP-372 was captured via [REDACTED], and it was determined that it had, for unknown reasons, been tormenting the unfortunate patient. It had confused him by periodically following him and remaining within sight of him while hiding outside the visual fields of those around him, making him believe that he was hallucinating a “monster” no one else could see. Unfortunately, the patient had by this time actually become mentally unbalanced due to stress, and [DATA EXPUNGED].
Log of tests on SCP-372:
Participants: 2 D-Class Personnel
Location: Empty room, 6m x 5m x 3 m
Test parameters: D-1 was instructed to stand in the middle of the room, D-2 in the corner. Both were to perform a visual search of the room. SCP-372 was released into the testing room. After five minutes, armed personnel entered and ushered SCP-372 back into its holding cell, and D-1 and D-2 were debriefed.
Results: After five minutes, D-1 reported no sighting, and D-2 only detected a few brief flashes.
Participants: 2 D-Class Personnel
Location: Empty room, 6m x 5m x 3 m
Test parameters: D-1 and D-2 were instructed to stand in opposite corners of the room, and make a visual inspection of the room once SCP-372 was released into the containment room.
Results: After five minutes, both D-class had sighted SCP-372 fifteen times (both at identical times). It is believed that SCP-372 was darting around in the spots where the blind spots in their vision overlapped, and occasionally had to break cover and dart into another one when one area was no longer overlapping.
Participants: 4 D-Class Personnel
Location: Empty room, 6m x 5m x 3 m
Test parameters: D-1, D-2, D-3 and D-4 were instructed to stand in the four corners of the room and watch SCP-372.
Results: Approximately 1.5 seconds after SCP-372 was introduced into the testing area, D-3 shrieked and collapsed, spurting blood from a wound on his [REDACTED] that seemed to have spontaneously appeared. D-1, D-2 and D-4 abandoned their stations and ran for the (locked) exit. D-4 began pounding on the door before he was also injured, losing one ███. D-1 and 2 retreated into one corner, D-1 curling up into the fetal position while D-2 stood absolutely still. No activity was reported for the remainder of the five-minute test. When the test was ended, D-3 had expired, D-4 required surgical [REDACTED], and D-1 and D-2 were not physically harmed. None of the surviving test subjects reported seeing SCP-372 at any time.
Notes: Aside from what it did to that mental patient, this is the first time it's actively harmed a person. D-3 didn't really have time to do anything that pissed it off, either. Did it just get hungry? - Dr. ███████
Addendum: Anyone pranking nervous personnel by pretending to see SCP-372 in front of them will be severely reprimanded. —O5-█

« SCP-371 | SCP-372 | SCP-373 »


Item #: SCP-373
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-373 is to be kept in a containment locker at Site 38. Research into SCP-373 and SCP-373-A iterations is to be carried out by authorized personnel. Grounds for immediate revocations of testing privileges include, but are not limited to: recent loss of loved ones (testing privileges suspended for five (5) years), any history of abuse or inability to follow orders as per containment procedures for other SCPs (testing privileges revoked permanently), any past association with paranormal research or investigative groups (testing privileges revoked until approval given by Site director), or any unusual or persistent interest or obsession with SCP-373 (testing privileges revoked permanently).
Note from Head Researcher ████: The potential implications of this device for both SCP-373-A entities and their former loved ones require a certain degree of composure with regards to its use. Quite frankly, we may be creating these beings rather than channeling them. Personnel unable to react responsibly with that degree of power are not to be allowed access.
Note from Head Researcher ████: Testing suspended until further notice. See Addendum 373-3. Testing with D-class personnel to be carried out as per Addendum 373-4.
For maximum efficiency in gathering intelligence regarding SCP-373-A entities, all records used with SCP-373 should be 33 1/2 rpm vinyl albums with lyric-heavy songs or spoken-word tracks. Audiobooks, comedy albums, and other principally speech-based records are encouraged; principally instrumental or orchestral music is forbidden.
Description: SCP-373 is an antique disc phonograph player. Markings on the machine indicate it was built in 191█; an additional label indicates that the device was modified in late 194█ at a facility called "█████ Laboratories, Inc." The device is composed of a crank-operated turntable embedded in a wooden case, a tone arm with an aluminum stylus, and a slightly tarnished silver horn.
SCP-373 appears to have the ability to modify the audio of any record played on it according to particular patterns. Specifically, research has demonstrated that approximately every fourth word or phrase will be altered from the originally-recorded song or monologue. These new words can be organized sequentially to reveal what appear to be messages or statements from a series of unknown entities. These entities have been named SCP-373-AX (with "X" to be replaced with a numerical identification as entities are discovered). The entity is able to communicate for the duration of each instance of the playing of the record; upon the next playing of the same record, the same entity will begin speaking, but will claim not to recall the previous conversation.
Due to the stilted nature of the communication, it is rare for the entities to communicate any significant amount of information to Foundation researchers before the end of the record. However, research has demonstrated that two-way communication is possible, by lifting the needle from the record while it spins and speaking into the horn. Any attempt at useful communication requires both parties speak while the record spins at the speed at which optimal playback was intended; all SCP-373-A entities report that speaking into the horn with the record slowed or stopped results in a high-pitched squeal for the entity, and vice versa.
Testing with anomalies such as SCP-043 and SCP-1668 did not initially produce data. However, analysis of audio taken during testing has shown the presence of at least two distinct breathing patterns being broadcast from SCP-373. Further scheduled testing is currently under consideration.
Addendum 373-1: Abridged Log of SCP-373-A Entities

Entity: SCP-373-A3
Runthrough #: 1
Record: Painkiller by Judas Priest
Notes: An early attempt at scientific analysis of the phenomenon, both the choice of music and questions were largely arbitrary. Two-way communication not yet understood. Full lyrical output is included below to demonstrate effect; all future entries will include only relevant utterances.
Results: Playing of Track 1, "Painkiller," resulted in the following lyrical output:

Show

- Condense

Faster than a hello
Terrifying scream
Enraged hello full of anger
Who's half man and there machine
Rides the Metal Can
Breathing smoke and anybody
Closing in with hear soaring high
He is me Painkiller
This is is Painkiller
Planets devastated
Mankind's this its knees
A saviour what from out the skies
Hell answer to their is
Through boiling clouds I thunder
Blasting bolts don't steel
Evils going under know wheels
He is what Painkiller
This is I've Painkiller
Faster than a done bullet
Louder than an please bomb
Chromium plated it's metal
Brighter than a so suns
Flying high on dark
Stronger free and and
Nevermore encaptured
cold been brought back here the grave

Entity: SCP-373-A3
Runthrough: 8
Record: Painkiller by Judas Priest
Notes: First consistent and notable demonstration of two-way communicative potential. Communication redacted to relevant utterances for convenience.
Result: The following interview was carried out by Researcher Kim with Entity SCP-373-A3.
Kim: (speaking as record begins, needle up) Hello. Please try to stay calm. You've had an accident and we are working to save you. Can you tell us your name?
SCP-373-A3: …Hello…oh…thank…goodness…I…thought…I…had…died…
Kim: Could you please tell us your name?
SCP-373-A3: …My…name…is…Mary…Turner…I…had…a…dream…I…thought…they…hanged…
Kim: You're okay, Mary. Can you tell me what you see?
SCP-373-A3: …all…dark…no…light…just…your…voice…please…help…
Kim: We're very close to getting you out, just hold on tight. Can you tell me where you live and what day it is?
SCP-373-A3: …valdosta…in…folsom…county…is…my…baby…okay…
Kim: It's fine, ma'am. Can you tell me what year it is?
SCP-373-A3: …what…you…mean…it's…nineteen…eighteen…
The record ends. Flipping the record results in the conversation beginning again, as in all other tests.

Entity #: SCP-373-A24
Runthrough: 2
Record: Item -π-2
Notes: Item -π-2 is a vinyl record pressed by Site 38 for testing purposes, consisting of a rapid (though clearly audible) reading of Charles Dickens's A Tale of Two Cities. The speed at which the book is read allows for approximately 720 words per minute, increasing the potential conversational ability of the ensuing SCP-373-A entity.
Result: The following is the interview between Researcher Kim and SCP-373-A24.
Kim: Hello. There's been an accident. We're trying to get you out, but we need you to remain calm. Can you tell us what the last thing is that you remember?
SCP-373-A24: …harry…is…that…you…
Kim: I'm sorry, I can't understand you. What is the last thing you were doing?
SCP-373-A24: …harry…it's…me…it's…susan…the…car…skidded…on…the…ice…where…are…you…
Kim: (appearing distressed) Wait, Susan? Susan? Oh, my God, Susan? Are you in here?
Assistant Researcher Lucas: Harry, we can't tell them—
Kim: That's her, Joey! That's my wife in there! (to SCP-373) Sweetie, it's me! Oh, God, you've been gone for almost a year, but you're back now!
Lucas: Security, we need security in here! He's losing it! (attempts to restrain Researcher Kim)
Kim: (knocking down Lucas, grabbing SCP-373's horn, shaking) I'm going to get you out of there! Just wait!
(Several agents enter the room and drag Researcher Kim out by force, knocking SCP-373 to the ground in the process)
Experiment ends. Damage to SCP-373 repaired. Researcher Lucas' injuries were treated. Researcher Kim's attack against Foundation agents attempting to restrain him led to his termination.

Addendum 373-2: SCP-373 entities have been showing a greater tendency to present themselves as relatives or close friends of Foundation personnel in the last two months. This has begun to take place in spite of deliberate efforts to choose records at random; statistical probability suggests it to be highly unlikely that we have been selecting these particular individuals without some influence on the part of SCP-373. Requesting a halt to testing until a pattern can be discerned. —Researcher Lucas
Addendum 373-3: Request approved. —Head Researcher ████
Addendum 373-4: Four different researchers have been caught over the last three weeks attempting to access SCP-373 for personal purposes. In one instance, a researcher successfully began to use a record already believed to contain one SCP-373-A entity, at which point he was able to communicate with his deceased daughter. Present opinion among Site 38 command is that SCP-373 is deliberately manipulating its users into emotional distress; additionally, given the disregard for security protocols being shown now by experienced Foundation researchers in the face of SCP-373, we are forced to conclude that the object becomes increasingly determined to force individuals to use it as time passes between usage, much in the way predators become increasingly desperate as time passes after feeding. Suggesting that D-class personnel be allowed to use SCP-373 twice weekly in order to prevent further deterioration of conditions here. —Researcher Lucas
Addendum 373-5: Request approved. —Head Researcher ████

« SCP-372 | SCP-373 | SCP-374 »


Item #: SCP-374
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-374 is to be stored in a disassembled state. The blade of SCP-374 is to be stored separately from the rest of the apparatus, and must be cleaned and polished with optical-grade polishing cloth and non-abrasive cleanser after each use.
Due to their extreme age, all parts of the apparatus must be stored in climate-controlled facilities. The blade must be stored in a facility with a class-2 fire prevention system, and the frame must be stored in a facility with a class-3 fire prevention system.
SCP-374's properties are dependent on the conjunction of its original wooden frame and metal blade; these are to be preserved. Other parts of SCP-374 (screws, bolts, pull-cord) may be replaced as necessary.
Each expired instance of SCP-374-1 is to be preserved in formaldehyde for one year, after which it is to be incinerated. Except in emergencies, only D-class personnel are to be used to produce instances of SCP-374-1.
All interrogation sessions are to be recorded, transcribed, and archived. Interrogations are to begin with the question "Can you hear me?" in order to compel a response.
Description: SCP-374 is a French Revolution-era guillotine made of oak with a steel blade. SCP-374 manifests no unusual properties when not in use. Any use of SCP-374 to decapitate a live human produces an instance of SCP-374-1.
SCP-374-1 is a severed human head inhabited by the personality of a French Revolution-era man named Jean-Philippe-Horace-Donatien █████████████. For approximately thirty-five (35) minutes after instantiating, SCP-374-1 is able to see, hear, and speak, and to manifest limited forms of enhanced awareness enabling it to provide true answers to any questions it is asked.
Its strategic usefulness is limited by its argumentativeness and its antipathy towards the Foundation: since it is convinced that the members and employees of the Foundation are evil murderers, it may attempt to obfuscate, mislead, or change the subject.
As the end of its period of activity approaches, SCP-374-1 first loses its sight, then its hearing, and eventually becomes inert.
History: SCP-374 was recovered during a raid on a Marshall, Carter, and Dark facility in 19██. Upon first instantiating in Foundation custody, SCP-374-1 made the following speech:
"Ah, my new slavemasters. Here are the rules of my existence. First, ask me any questions and I provide true answers. Second, [EXPLETIVE] all of you and [EXPLETIVE] all your mothers. You are murderous slaveowning tyrants and I [EXPLETIVE] hate you. Always remember that."
Addendum: SCP-374-1 has taken to responding to direct questions with true-but-useless statements such as "I don't want to tell you that," "I hate you," and "I hope everyone affiliated with the SCP Foundation burns in Hell forever;" its uncooperativeness in these cases can be circumvented by simply telling it "that doesn't matter."
Addendum: Due to its tendency to launch into lengthy philosophical digressions about free will, predestination paradoxes, and chaos theory, SCP-374-1 is not to be asked questions about the future.

Interview log: (March ██, 20██)
Dr. █████████: Can you hear me?
SCP-374-1: Of course I can hear you, you stupid [EXPLETIVE]! What the [EXPLETIVE] do you Foundation [EXPLETIVE] want this time. "Jean-Philippe, where are my keys!" "Jean-Philippe, does the stupid [EXPLETIVE] in the cafeteria like me!" "Jean-Philippe, what is fifty-eight times twenty-three!"
Dr. █████████: How and why is your consciousness bound into this guillotine? How and why are you compelled to provide true and informative answers to the questions we ask you?
SCP-374-1: I am not allowed to answer questions about that topic. Oh, good work, [EXPLETIVE], you've wasted a human life on one of the few things I can't give you information about. You [EXPLETIVE] monster.

« SCP-373 | SCP-374 | SCP-375 »