Item #: SCP-120
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: Due to its importance to the Foundation, SCP-120 is to be kept under video surveillance and armed guard at all times. Any personnel attempting to utilize the item without authorisation are to be terminated immediately. All personnel wishing to use the item are required to submit a filled copy of the application form (Document #120-23) to facility operators.
Due to the precise timing and coordination required for efficient use of this object in an emergency, all personnel entering SCP-120's building are placed under temporary command of the facility heads Captain ████████ (Security Detachment) (L4) and Doctor █████████ (Research Team) (L4).
All destination locations are to be kept under surveillance and armed guard. They are valuable to the Foundation but are non-critical, but any compromised destination must be immediately reported to SCP-120 personnel.
Distributed Task Force Sigma-6 (“Puddlejumpers”) was created with the objective of protecting and maintaining SCP-120's facility and location outposts. It consists of 1 command unit and 1 defense and maintenance unit based at the SCP-120 facility at Command-██; 5 units based at the destination locations, plus 5 reserve units for these; and 5 units assigned to other SCP-120 related projects.
Description: SCP-120 appears to be a small child's paddling pool, pastel pink in colouration, with an inner diameter of approximately 2.5 metres and inner height of 0.3 metres. The pool appears to have been fabricated from common Earth plastics but has shown itself to be indestructible by any attempted means (see research report #120-32 for a full summary). The pool's structure and response to pressure are typical for such a pool (it will flex when pressure is applied and is soft to the touch) but has amazing tensile strength and cannot be permanently stretched or ripped.
What is contained within the pool seems to be a brightly glowing, coloured, liquid-like substance, which seems to exist only partially in our dimension. It is unresponsive to manipulation by organic or inorganic means, but the substance ripples and shimmers systematically and regularly, suggesting it exists physically on another dimension.
SCP-120's most interesting and useful property is used regularly by Foundation personnel. Human beings, when alive and carrying loads (including clothing) under 37.8 kilograms, are observed to fall through the pool, and are deposited at one of 11 destinations. These will be detailed in an addendum.
The item will only function in this way if certain conditions are met: the subject must be genetically human; the subject must be conscious; the subject must be carrying weights of under the specified amount; and only one subject must be present on the surface. Test subjects attempting to use SCP-120 while these conditions were not met reported their feet making contact with a smooth surface underneath the liquid but no significant effects were observed.
SCP-120's main use is as a potential means of evacuation for Command-██ during a major emergency. It is currently stored and maintained in a fortified outbuilding of this facility. To inspect evacuation procedures, refer to document #120-22.
SCP-120 was first brought to the attention of Foundation authorities on 31/08/1992. Local police authorities in █████, California, were investigating reports of missing children in their jurisdiction, and discovered and reported the item on 31/08. Overwatch Command was automatically informed through the usual channels, and a small team of Foundation agents was dispatched to claim and transport the item to Site-19, where it remained for testing over the next 2 years.
It was transferred to its present location at Command-██ in 1994.
Addendum:
Document #120-7: Destructive test results for SCP-120 – 24/12/1993 [Abridged version]

Hand saw: 30cm – No result
Industrial drill: Steel bit – No result
Industrial drill: Diamond bit – No result
Munition: 9x19mm Parabellum – No result
Munition: 5.56x45mm NATO – No result
Munition: 7.62x39mm – No result
Munition: 120mm M830 HEAT – No result
Cutting torch: Acetylene – No result
Cutting torch: Hydrogen – No result
Cutting torch: Propane – No result
CO2 laser (peak power: 100 kW) – No result
CO2 laser (peak power: 500 kW) – No result

Document #120-10: Detailed explanation of SCP-120's capabilities and destinations – 12/02/1994 [Abridged version]
SCP-120 possesses the capability of instant translocation of human beings, possibly through one or more alternate dimensions. Subjects using the item are invariably deposited at one of 11 locations. These locations cycle in a specific and unchanging pattern. The 11 destinations and their locations were determined through testing with Class-D personnel carrying radio beacons. They are detailed here:
Location 1: Pacific Ocean: SCP-120's liquid displays a blue glow while connected to this destination.
Subjects attempting travel to this destination are deposited an average of 2 metres above the surface of the Pacific at latitude █████████°S, longitude ██████████°W. A Foundation ship (SCPS Demeter – publicly the USS Nassau, a meteorological ship) is currently stationed at this location and personnel arriving through use of SCP-120 materialize inside the ship's cargo hold.
Sensitive Foundation material or personnel can be sent here in an emergency, and the ship has provisions for storage of low-threat SCP objects, should the need arise. Class-D personnel used to “dial” SCP-120 can be confined and extracted by helicopter or reused, or simply terminated and their bodies retained in storage.
The original Class D and radio transmitter used to determine this location were lost at sea, and might have to be recovered in the interest of secrecy, if they were to wash up on populated shores.
This configuration of SCP-120 was arbitrarily designated as #1, and has no observable significance above other configurations. Destinations 2 through 11 follow in sequential order after this configuration, and return to it after a full cycle.
Travel by SCP-120 to this location is not advisable during storms due to risk of injury.
Location 2: Greenland: SCP-120 displays a bright white glow while dialed to this destination.
Subjects travelling to this destination materialize 1.5 metres above the surface of Greenland, at latitude █████████°N and longitude █████████°W. A small facility was established here, under the public pretense of oil industry expansion. This facility has similar capabilities and use to the Demeter, and is additionally equipped with an airstrip and refueling facilities.
Location 3: L3: Located at the Earth-Moon Lagrange Point 3. The SCP displays a deep black colour.
Objects and personnel sent through the SCP to any Lagrange point (locations 3, 5, 8, 10, and 11) are effectively lost, as retrieval is impossible at our current level of technology. They may prove a possible way to remove small but threatening SCP objects, but for now, are merely an inconvenience, as sacrifice of D-personnel is required to move the SCP to its next configuration.
Location 4: Himalayas: SCP-120 displays a white glow similar to when it is dialed to Location 2.
Materialization occurs at latitude █████████°N, longitude █████████°E, on a mountain in the Himalayan mountain range. Only minor changes have been made to the destination: the digging of an 8-metre hole for disposal of D-class bodies, an overhead canopy for concealment, and supplies and tenting for evacuation to this location (which should only take place in extreme circumstances).
D-class personnel used for dialing are to be injected with a mixture of sedatives and neurotoxin before sending, to ensure a humane death and decrease risk of damage to the structures at Location 4.
Location 5: L5: Identical to Location 3.
Location 6: Sahara: SCP-120 will glow yellow.
Personnel materialize at latitude █████████°N, longitude █████████°E in a small outpost. The need for secrecy renders this facility unable to house any significant SCP object, but is ideal for evacuation of personnel and documents from Command.
Location 7: Gobi: SCP-120 displays a brown glow.
This destination is located at a small outpost in the Gobi desert, latitude █████████°N, longitude ██████████°E, but is otherwise identical to the location 6 outpost. However, the expansion of SCP-4024 poses a significant threat to the outpost's operational viability.
Location 8: L2: Identical to Location 3, although shows more potential for SCP disposal, being situated beyond the moon.
Location 9: Mare Imbrium: The SCP displays a subdued grey glow when dialed in to this destination.
This destination is on a relatively flat section of the Sea of Rains on the lunar surface. Through vast expenditure of money and D-class personnel, a small outpost has been established there, and is considered one of the Foundation's safest locations.
Location 10: L4: Identical to Location 3.
Location 11: L1: Identical to Location 3.

« SCP-119 | SCP-120 | SCP-121 »


Item #: SCP-121
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Containment Site-83 has been established outside SCP-121 to house personnel dedicated to the containment of SCP-121. The perimeter of SCP-121 is to remain fenced off from the surrounding area, with guards stationed along the perimeter at all times. Guards are to don local military uniforms and remain heavily armed at all times. Rotation of guards is to occur every four hours.
The surrounding population is to remain informed that SCP-121 is quarantined due to persisting hazardous material. Warning signs are to be placed seventy-five (75), fifty (50), and twenty-five (25) kilometers out along roads leading to SCP-121 to deter trespassers. Civilians who approach the perimeter of SCP-121 are to be reminded of the quarantine and forced to depart; those who resist are to be detained for questioning.
In the event that approaching civilians witness an active instance of SCP-121-1 or -2, Class-A amnestics are to be administered. Any meteorological data regarding SCP-121's anomalous effect is to be censored, and SCP-121 has been labeled a no-flight zone to prevent knowledge of SCP-121, -1, and -2.
Site Task Force Iota-71 ("Home Wreckers") has been established and permanently assigned to Containment Site-83 in response to the threat of SCP-121-2. They are to escort researchers interested in studying non-hostile instances of SCP-121-2 as well as neutralize any instances that have grown to potentially lethal sizes. In the event of an attempted containment breach, Iota-71 is to assist perimeter guards in the neutralization of the instance of SCP-121-2.
Any buildings within SCP-121 that develop into SCP-121-1 are to be recorded and monitored at all times for transition into SCP-121-2. Instances of SCP-121-2 that become innately hostile upon transition are to be neutralized; however, passive instances may continue to dwell within the perimeter of SCP-121 for research purposes until they've grown to a size too dangerous to contain or become hostile, at which point they are to be neutralized.
Description: SCP-121 is the region of land occupied by the former town of ███████, Colorado. The town was home to roughly 6,800 prior to enactment of current containment protocol, and holds roughly 3,000 buildings, both residential and commercial. Clouds above SCP-121 appear incapable of entering an area roughly twelve (12) kilometers in diameter, instead passing around the area; it is speculated this is related to SCP-121's range of effect, but it is not known how at this time. Buildings in SCP-121 will sporadically1 detach from any foundations and ascend into the air. At this point, these buildings are identified as SCP-121-1.
Instances of SCP-121-1 ascend to a random height of a minimum of forty-five (45) meters. Regardless of the previous state of the building, doors and windows become locked and any potential entry ways become barricaded by furniture inside. Forced entry has shown an increased ambient temperature of roughly 35°C and a relative humidity of roughly 65%, but a lack of any further anomalous properties. Instances of SCP-121-1 will cease suspension after a minimum period of ten weeks, but may remain airborne for no more than fifteen weeks afterwards. Instances do not show any abnormal levels of durability, and near-total destruction of SCP-121-1 upon impact with the ground is common. After impact, the remains of instances of SCP-121-1 will contain an ovoid object approximately 1.2m x 1.2m x 2m composed of materials consistent with furniture found inside the home.2 The object will begin to locomote on its own accord; at this point, it will be referred to as SCP-121-2.
SCP-121-2 begin to form a conglomerate with nearby materials, including debris from SCP-121-1, flora, automobiles, and (on rare occasion) other buildings. SCP-121-2 will continue to attract objects until it forms a body of material nine (9) meters in height, at which point the body will animate and appear to take on levels of sentience. SCP-121-2 may, at this point, begin to simulate ingesting other material, to continue growing at a considerably slower rate. Ingestion appears to be for the sole purpose of continued growth, as instances have gone prolonged periods of time without material. Certain items have been known to attach to SCP-121-2 instantaneously, despite size and the lack of simulated ingestion.
Instances of SCP-121-2 normally resemble animals capable of locomotion on land, but have been known to take on humanoid forms and forms that do not resemble any known animal. They are primarily docile, and normally do not display hostility towards personnel unless provoked. However, SCP-121-2 instances have been known to form with innate aggressive and territorial behavior; this behavior has also been observed to develop following the accumulation of certain items, including firearms, bladed weapons, and in one example, the taxidermy head of a bear.
SCP-121 came to the attention of the Foundation when local authorities were flooded with reports of a previously abandoned residence suddenly "flying in the sky". The town was evacuated under the guise of a hazardous material spill and the residence was observed. Once the instance of SCP-121-1 transitioned into SCP-121-2, SCP-121-2 was quickly neutralized. Following the neutralization, another instance of SCP-121-1 developed3, and the town was permanently evacuated and contained.
Incident 121-A: On 11/04/98, a sound described as a "muffled siren" was heard for approximately five (5) minutes. An active instance of SCP-121-1 was suddenly subject to an immense force following the sound, causing the building to prematurely break apart while suspended before the ten week minimum. Neighboring towns reported hearing the sound; local press were informed quarantine staff were being evacuated due to a temporary elevation in toxic levels. The cause of the sound is currently unknown; further research is recommended.
Three weeks following the sound and the destruction of SCP-121-1, the remains finally fell to the ground. Inside the rubble were remnants of the ovoid object found in SCP-121-2, along with traces of aluminum slag.
Incident 121-B: On 05/09/12, a 1991 Dodge Caravan was found suspended fifty-three (53) meters in the air. Internal surveillance is at this time impossible, due to the windows being obscured by what appears to be wool cloth. Further observation of the vehicle is recommended.

Footnotes
1. No more than one at a time, with three weeks minimum between manifestation.
2. Examination of mostly intact instances of SCP-121-1 show an absence of previous furnishings.
3. This is the only occasion on which the creation of SCP-121-1 has so closely followed the creation of an instance of SCP-121-2

« SCP-120 | SCP-121 | SCP-122 »


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⚠ Content warning: This article contains mentions of suicide. Reader discretion is advised.

⚠ content warning

Item #: SCP-122
Level 1/122

Object Class: Thaumiel
Classified

SCP-122.

Special Containment Procedures: Under no circumstances is SCP-122 to enter an unpowered state. At least one redundant failsafe power system is to be installed in order to maintain power to the object in the event of power outages. Regular maintenance is also to be conducted on SCP-122 at the discretion of the head researcher in order to reduce flickering. A security camera is to be installed within the room that the anomaly is placed so as to regularly monitor the occurrence of flickering within the subject.
Due to its utility and importance in assisting the psychological assistance efforts of Site-135, SCP-122 is to be used on a daily basis, with SCP-122-1 (currently Anna Talinn) being given normal humanoid accommodations within the SCP-122 containment cell at the discretion of the incumbent head researcher. Should the current SCP-122-1 subject become unfit for use with the object, a new SCP-122-1 subject must be procured as soon as is feasible.
Description: SCP-122 is a plastic night light in the shape of a star, thought to have been manufactured between 1960 and 1980.
When in a powered state, SCP-122 has been reported to be able to exude a sense of calmness, comfort, and safety to those within a roughly 20-kilometer radius. As such, it has been known to alleviate symptoms of currently prevailing psychological conditions in subjects.
Examples of these psychological conditions include:

Psychological Stress
Paranoia
Phobias
Anxiety
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

SCP-122-1, Anna Talinn

However, these alleviating effects are only present when SCP-122 is within the same room as a child under the age of 14 who subscribes to the beliefs1 of traditional Abrahamic religions2. This aforementioned child subject, referred to henceforth as SCP-122-1, is currently seven year old Anna Talinn, who was procured into Foundation custody in 2017. When in SCP-122's containment cell, SCP-122-1 has reported sightings of an “angel” in her dreams, henceforth referred to as SCP-122-2 (Refer to SCP-122 use records for further information regarding SCP-122-2).
SCP 122-2 has also been reported as sometimes appearing within the dreams of personnel affected by SCP-1223. Based on reports, it has been associated with positive feelings such as that of security and relief4. From this, it can be inferred that SCP-122-2 is related in some part to the aforementioned positive effects.
Since the beginning of SCP-122's use in supplementing psychological assistance efforts in Site-135, annual personnel turnover rates have been reduced by 90 percent, with annual personnel suicide rates being reduced by 85 percent. With Site-135 having recorded the highest instances of either statistic of all sites prior to the use of SCP-122, the subject has been integral to the continued operation of the site.

+ Excerpts of SCP-122 use records

- Hide

SCP-122-1 Name: [DATA EXPUNGED]
Age: [DATA EXPUNGED]
Date of Use: 2/12/2017
SCP-122-2 Activity: [DATA EXPUNGED]
Incident Notes: [DATA EXPUNGED]. Positive effects of SCP-122 noted. Electronic failsafe systems implemented soon after.

SCP-122-1 Name: Anna Talinn
Age: 2 years old
Date of Use: 3/01/2017
SCP-122-2 Activity: None.
Incident Notes: No instances of flickering or dimming. SCP-122-1 was noted to be sleeping without incident.

SCP-122-1 Name: Anna Talinn
Age: 3 years old
Date of Use: 4/28/2018
SCP-122-2 Activity Description: “God said he'd give me a guardian angel. And he did! Last night, there was a beautiful angel with wings and he was just standing there, and he was looking at me… beside the door! He did that alllll night!”
Incident Notes: One instance of dimming.

SCP-122-1 Name: Anna Talinn
Age: 5 years old
Date of Use: 6/26/2020
SCP-122-2 Activity Description: “I saw the angel again today! He was at the edge of my bed, and he was looking at me with the widest smile on his face. His wings were… (stretches arms out) this big! I never realized they were that big before!”
Incident Notes: Two instances of dimming, one instance of flickering.

SCP-122-1 Name: Anna Talinn
Age: 7 years old
Date of Use: 9/15/2022
SCP-122-2 Activity Description: “He sat in front of me, just looking at me and watching me sleep. He looked like he wanted to hug me, and I wanted to hug him too!”
Incident Notes: Four instances of flickering.

However, SCP-122's components have degraded in the time since its creation, with materials that could be used to replace them no longer being manufactured in the present. This degradation renders SCP-122 vulnerable to fluctuations in its brightness, with flickering and dimming being reported to be the most frequent fluctuations. This causes SCP-122 to assume an unpowered state.
When in an unpowered state, SCP-122 [REDACTED].

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING FILE IS LEVEL 4/122 CLASSIFIED

ANY ATTEMPT TO ACCESS THIS FILE WITHOUT LEVEL 4/122 AUTHORIZATION WILL BE LOGGED AND WILL LEAD TO IMMEDIATE DISCIPLINARY ACTION.

Declassified SCP-122 Use Records (Updated)

SCP-122-1 Name: Janna Marston
Age: 6 years old.
Date of Use: 2/12/2017
SCP-122-2 Activity Description: ”Had a blackout. He got her on the first night.”
Incident Notes: Janna Marston lost. Proposal for new SCP-122-1 subject made. Positive effects of SCP-122 noted. Electronic failsafe systems implemented soon after.

SCP-122-1 Name: Anna Talinn
Age: 2 years old
Date of Use: 3/01/2017
SCP-122-2 Activity: None.
Incident Notes: No instances of flickering or dimming. SCP-122-1 was noted to be sleeping without incident.
SCP-122-2 Distance: Undetected.
Image of Greatest Activity:

+ OPEN ATTACHMENT?

- Hide

3/01/2017

SCP-122-1 Name: Anna Talinn
Age: 3 years old
Date of Use: 4/28/2018
SCP-122-2 Activity Description: “God said he'd give me a guardian angel. And he did! Last night, there was a beautiful angel with wings and he was just standing there, and he was looking at me… beside the door! He did that alllll night!”
Incident Notes: One instance of dimming.
SCP-122-2 Distance: 6 meters
Image of Greatest Activity:

+ OPEN ATTACHMENT?

- Hide

4/28/2018

SCP-122-1 Name: Anna Talinn
Age: 5 years old
Date of Use: 6/26/2020
SCP-122-2 Activity Description: “I saw the angel again today! He was at the edge of my bed, and he was looking at me with the widest smile on his face. His wings were… (stretches arms out) this big! I never realized they were that big before!”
Incident Notes: Two instances of dimming, one instance of flickering.
SCP-122-2 Distance: 2 meters
Image of Greatest Activity:

+ OPEN ATTACHMENT?

- Hide

6/26/2020

SCP-122-1 Name: Anna Talinn
Age: 7 years old
Date of Use: 9/15/2022
SCP-122-2 Activity Description: “He sat in front of me, just looking at me and watching me sleep. He looked like he wanted to hug me, and I wanted to hug him too!"
Incident Notes: Four instances of flickering.
SCP-122-2 Distance: 6 centimeters
Image of Greatest Activity:

+ OPEN ATTACHMENT?

- Hide

9/15/2022

EMERGENCY ALERT: Site-wide blackout detected. CHECK SCP-122 STATUS ASAP.

LAST IMAGE RECOVERED FROM SCP-122 CONTAINMENT CHAMBER

+ OPEN ATTACHMENT?

- Hide

"HE TELLS ME TO PRAY."

Footnotes
1. Children who have shown to score at least an 8/10 on the Aglio-Pontiff Religious Belief Scale have been shown to display the best results as SCP-122-1 subjects.
2. The reasons for this specification are currently unknown, though a link may be established between this fact and previous descriptions of SCP-122-2 as an "angel" (see SCP-122 use records)
3. As of now, only younger personnel aged 20-25 have reported having sightings of SCP-122-2
4. However, sightings of SCP-122-2 within the dreams of personnel do not show the "progression" of distance and positive feelings reported by SCP-122-1. The reason for this is unknown

More from this author
Images created by AnAnomalousWriter and Luxaiko
« SCP-121 | SCP-122 | SCP-123 »


Item #: SCP-123
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-123 is to be held in a secured facility and is to be securely fastened to the top of a sturdy table by use of straps, chains, a net, or similar device. Absolutely no hooks shall be fastened to the device. The object and table should be centrally located in a room no smaller than 5 m x 5 m x 5 m. No sensitive measuring devices should be used within 100 meters of SCP-123, as their measurements will be noticeably affected. More significantly, absolutely no objects should be inserted into SCP-123 except under experimental conditions.
Transfer of SCP-123 shall be made with care, and effort made to prevent the object from being shaken or jerked with notable force. SCP-123 shall not, under any circumstances, be transported over large bodies of water by any method.
No personnel below Level 2 must be allowed in the containment chamber with SCP-123. Any person interacting with the object should wear tight-fitting clothing that has absolutely no straps, laces, or other dangling components. Persons with long hair shall be required to tie their hair back or wear a hairnet.
Description: Object is a gray geodesic sphere 65 cm in diameter consisting of sixty triangles. The areas between these triangles are empty, allowing the center of the sphere to be seen. The material the sphere is composed of is unknown, and upon the recommendation of Dr. █████, research into the material composition shall be limited to visual observation until further notice. SCP-123 appears to weigh about 3.62 kg, though its actual mass is believed to be much higher.
The geodesic sphere is hollow, save for the very center. At the center of SCP-123 is what appears to be a black sphere, approximately 1 mm in diameter. No light can be seen being reflected off or emitted from the black sphere. The core also appears to exhibit significant gravitational force, which massively increases within the confines of the outer geodesic sphere. This gravitational force can be measured using sensitive instruments several dozen meters away. Within approximately three meters, the gravitational pull is apparent to any observer, with dangling objects beginning to be pulled towards the sphere. At the surface of the outer sphere, the gravitational pull doubles the weight of any object placed onto the structure.
The inner sphere's qualities are apparent when any small object is inserted within the outer sphere. Any such object quickly accelerates into the object and disappears. Any liquid poured into the object also is sucked into the central sphere. Analysis has shown that light that nears the black sphere is curved towards the center. The amount of gravity exhibited by the inner sphere at its surface suggests that its mass is approximately 1029 kg, though the obvious gravity reducing effect within the outer sphere means that its actual mass may actually far exceed even that. Note that such a mass would ordinarily imply a Schwarzschild radius in the order of 200 meters, way in excess of the approximate 0.5 mm actually observed, which can be considered further testament to the outer sphere's gravity dampening qualities.
Gases are affected by the gravity of SCP-123, and the atmosphere pressure at its surface has been measured at 205 kPa. However, gases are unable to penetrate the area between the triangles of the outer geodesic sphere. The reason for this is currently unknown, and is currently being studied.
It should be noted that the outer sphere and inner sphere appear to act as one – whenever the outer sphere is moved, the inner sphere follows. Further research is suggested into the nature of this relationship.
Addendum [SCP-123a]: SCP-123 has been suggested as a disposal unit. The researcher currently in charge of SCP-123, Dr █████, is concerned about the structural integrity of the geodesic sphere. All requests for disposal must go through Dr █████, or request a formal hearing with Level 4 personnel. Until further notice, all interaction with SCP-123 is to be restricted to experimentation. Command personnel agree that further research is needed to understand the durability of the outer sphere.

« SCP-122 | SCP-123 | SCP-124 »


Item #: SCP-124
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-124 is to be kept in a 4.2 m x 2.1 m stone pit in its containment cell. The pit is to be 1.5 metres deep. A plastic tarp is to be placed over SCP-124 when not in use. Absolutely no biological matter is allowed within one metre of SCP-124 when not being studied. An armed guard is to be stationed outside SCP-124's cell at all times.
Description: SCP-124 is a plot of soil approximately 9 m2 in area and 14 m3 in size. It was recovered from a Detroit basement when authorities were notified of two teenagers growing large amounts of marijuana.
SCP-124 has the ability to grow any biological organism to its full potential in a relatively short amount of time (the length varies according to the complexity of the organism). Nothing growing in SCP-124 requires external nutrients or other resources (for example, a tomato plant would not require water or light). Pesticides, too, aren't needed, as SCP-124 has a repellent effect on any insect or other invertebrates not growing in it. Any food grown in SCP-124 is reported to be of very high quality, taste, and nutrition, no matter what state the food was in before being planted in SCP-124.
Document 124-1: List of items grown in SCP-124

The following is a selective list of objects grown in SCP-124 during experiments.
Input - Product of SCP-124
Tomato Seed - Fully grown tomato plant. All tomatoes (12 on each plant) were ripe and juicy. Reported to be "very tasty".
Small Watermelon (0.8 kg) - 11.1 kg (24.5 lb) watermelon. Reported to be "very sweet and tasty".
Grass Seed (1) - SCP-124 quickly sprouted into a lush, green lawn within a matter of seconds. Slight dew on the grass.
Small, overgrown hedge - A hedge, trimmed and shaped like a dolphin.
Small, overgrown hedge - A hedge, trimmed and shaped like a skull.
Small Labrador Retriever puppy (sandy brown) - A fully grown, bronze-colored Labrador Retriever in peak condition. Currently living with Dr. Church.
Small Caucasian fetus (male) - [DATA EXPUNGED] After killing 6 personnel, the subject was terminated by SCP Containment Team.
A piece of hard candy - A humanoid construct composed of hard candy. The significance of this is unknown.
Fly larvae - [DATA EXPUNGED] Level 5 lockdown was initiated.

« SCP-123 | SCP-124 | SCP-125 »


Item #: SCP-125
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Supports for instances of SCP-125 are kept in padded boxes and covered with a fine nylon mesh that allows vision through, but obscures the surface of the mirror by at least 25%. These supports consist of a polished metallic surface (currently silver-plated brass) with no sharp or irregular edges, which must imperatively be smoothed out to prevent rips in the protective mesh. To further prevent incidents, any person penetrating the room where SCP-125 is located must also wear such a protective mesh over their face. Metal-plated glass mirrors should be avoided for the purpose of containment as SCP-125 is capable of moving from the glass itself to the metal surface.
Any metallic surface in the room must be dulled to prevent reflections. As an additional security measure, the room is kept in darkness and monitored only via infrared and ultraviolet lighting when no experiment is taking place.
No mirror or comparably reflective surface (including, but not limited to, metal-case pens, sunglasses, laptop computers, and glass objects) may be allowed in the room outside controlled experiments. The SCP may not be photographed or filmed in its unrestrained state.
If any personnel on site, and particularly personnel having recently been involved with SCP-125, reports seeing black dots, MTF Eta-10 and Chi-7 will be immediately put on standby and a level-2 alert for potential containment breach will be declared. Individuals contaminated will undergo containment protocol 125-b and may not return to active duty until the instance of SCP-125 affecting their cornea has been rendered completely inert.
Description: SCP-125 is an apparently sentient "being" that can only exist within reflections.
At rest and viewed up front, it takes the form of a black circle 17.2mm in diameter resting on the reflective surface. Its first anomalous characteristic is that it appears as a perfect circle to any observer regardless of the surface's angles, bends, and the location of the viewer or viewers. In that regard it acts more as if it were a sphere in contact with the surface, but lacking any shadow or highlight, and this even where an obstacle, such as containment mesh, makes it clear SCP-125 does not extend beyond the surface it has "imprinted" to.
SCP-125 does not reflect visible light or infrared. When observed in ultraviolet, however, [DATA EXPUNGED] up to and including [DATA EXPUNGED]. For unclear reasons, it also emits a minute but measurable and constant amount of X-rays.
SCP-125 is capable of movement across the surface it currently exists on. This movement may only occur across a surface uninterrupted by either an angle (the surface must follow a reasonably continuous curve) or a non-reflective area. SCP-125 has demonstrated incapability to cross scratches and frosted or etched areas of a surface. In many instances, however, SCP-125 will circumvent these limits by jumping to a reflection to round a corner, or between the separate outer glass and silver surfaces of a metal-glass mirror (hence the preference for opaque metallic surfaces for containment purposes). Although capable of moving anywhere along the surface, SCP-125 generally remains immobile in a location near its edges if any, and if on a surface that has a specific, immobile orientation, will usually remain in the lower right corner or its equivalent, even if the item is later moved.
Any reflective surface capable of displaying a reasonably accurate reflection of SCP-125 can host it. So far this has included a wide ranges of mirror-quality surfaces, glasses, polished or varnished surfaces (such as stone and wood), glossy plastic and even undisturbed pools of liquid or polished nails. When reflected by another surface, SCP-125 is capable of instantly "transferring" to it. However, SCP-125 cannot "survive" on, or transfer to or away from, a surface smaller than its own area ( approx. 2.32 cm2). Should it be constrained to one, it will rapidly become translucent and disappear completely.
The entity has demonstrated a certain level of sentience and even sapience. Despite lacking physical existence, it appears "unwilling" to be "touched" directly or otherwise hidden from sight. It will also resist to the best of its abilities any attempt at reducing its freedom of movement either by "jumping" to another surface or moving across its current one very fast. It will also "flee" from perceived threats, even complex ones expressed by speech, demonstrating an understanding of human communication. How it is capable of this and whether it can or wishes to communicate back is currently unknown.
In its normal state, SCP-125 is completely harmless and incapable of multiplying. It is, however, perfectly capable of moving to a living reflective surface, specifically that of a living animal's cornea. It will, in fact, do everything in its power to do so, indicative of a natural "desire". Once it has achieved this, SCP-125 diminishes in size by a factor of 10 to 1.72 mm in diameter. While existing on the surface of a living tissue, SCP-125 becomes capable of multiplying and infecting a potentially unlimited number of surfaces, as opposed to merely moving between them. This multiplication occurs within the cornea, rapidly causing the victim to complain of "seeing dots."
Past this stage, the SCP-125 infestation will rapidly (within five to nine days of initial infection) crowd out the entire tissue, causing the eye to go blind, after which stage the cells of the eye and optic nerve appear to undergo mass apoptosis, causing a non-infectious abscess. Why this occurs has yet to be elucidated. Only after the apoptotic stage has run its course does SCP-125 cease being contagious. No treatment for SCP-125 infestation is known to be efficient beyond keeping the affected eye(s) tightly covered to prevent further spread and administration of heavy antibiotics to reduce risk of infection.
Outbreaks continue to occur on an irregular basis, suggesting that SCP-125 is either a naturally occurring phenomenon or that it was spread over much of the planet at some point prior to the beginning of written history.
For a list of known past outbreaks of SCP-125, see Document SCP-125-Delta.

« SCP-124 | SCP-125 | SCP-126 »


Item #: SCP-126
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-126 is kept within a standard Euclid-class Humanoid Containment Cell despite not having needs consistent with that of a normal human or any kind of nourishment as this environment has proven the most effective in keeping SCP-126 contained.
In case of a containment breach, acoustic sensors embedded within SCP-126's containment cell as well as the entire wing in which SCP-126's cell is housed can be used to locate SCP-126. Firm but polite verbal requests for SCP-126 to return to its cell are to be given until it complies.
Personnel interacting with SCP-126 must undergo regular psychiatric screening and personnel exhibiting emotional attachment to SCP-126 must be administered a Class B amnestic and reassigned.
Description: SCP-126 is an invisible and intangible entity that can only be identified via sound. SCP-126 is sentient, with the ability to speak in multiple languages in a female voice and engage in conversation with any subject within range. To date, no method by which SCP-126 can be visually detected has been devised as SCP-126 does not appear to emit any kind of light, radiation, heat or electromagnetic energy. SCP-126 does appear to occupy an area, as evidenced by the ability to triangulate its suggested location via its voice. SCP-126 also emits sound when moving consistent with footsteps made by a human subject wearing high heels with a mass of approximately 55 to 60 kg, though no depressions can be seen in any floor materials and pressure sensors do not register any kind of presence. SCP-126 cannot pass through barriers that would prevent a normal human subject from passing (such as a closed door), but solid objects can be pushed through the space it occupies without any effect. For unknown reasons, SCP-126 will comply with any request for it to follow a specific human subject or move to a specific location without question, though it may move away afterwards or if it is not able to "physically" comply with the request.
SCP-126 will engage in conversation with any personnel within its containment cell, preferring topics such as art, nature and philosophy. SCP-126 exhibits knowledge of current topics and intelligence consistent with that of a college graduate as well as moderate attention-deficit disorder; SCP-126 will regularly change language without reason and stray off-topic while conversing without warning. Attempts to question SCP-126 about its origin or nature have been unsuccessful as SCP-126 becomes confused when presented with such questions and will quickly stray away from the topic. Despite not appearing to use or need any furniture or appliances, SCP-126 will request such items as a bed, dresser, mirror and other sundries if not present and is more likely to stay within a room if such items are available.
A small number of personnel exhibit anomalous behavior after engaging in conversation with SCP-126, including but not limited to believing that they have known SCP-126 for many years and that SCP-126 is a close friend or loved one. If not treated, these subjects will begin to ignore basic needs in order to continue conversing with SCP-126, eventually dying from dehydration or starvation.
SCP-126 was discovered in a suburban home in [REDACTED] after several reports of the house being haunted. A Foundation containment team was able to quickly locate SCP-126 and, after conversing for several minutes, convinced SCP-126 to enter a mobile containment unit which was used to transfer it to a local Foundation containment site.
Addendum 126-01: Researcher Note

To date, conversations with SCP-126 have yielded several notable personality traits:

SCP-126 is mildly arachnophobic and will move away from any specimens introduced to its containment cell.
SCP-126 exhibits a desire to assist with any task which it believes it can be of help, despite being unable to manipulate objects.
SCP-126 prefers to converse with male subjects that exhibit humor and intelligence.
SCP-126 expresses a desire to have children and has conversed with staff on several occasions regarding child care methodology.
SCP-126 has the ability to fluently speak English, French, German, Portuguese, Spanish and at least three (3) other unknown languages.

Dr. █████████
Senior Researcher

« SCP-125 | SCP-126 | SCP-127 »


SCP-127.

Item #: SCP-127
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-127 is considered no more dangerous than a normal firearm of its type. However, due to its extraordinary properties, it is to be held in Weapons Locker 7-C when not in use and suspended in water rich in calcium and protein. At this time, only the research team assigned to SCP-127 has clearance to access it.
Description: SCP-127, upon first glance, appears to be a standard MP5K-PDW submachine gun. Tests have revealed that aside from the outer steel and polymer shell, the entirety of the firearm is organic and alive. The weapon's ammunition initially appeared to be human-like teeth. However, DNA testing of the "bullets" resulted in no match to any known species on Earth.
SCP-127 features two settings: semi-automatic and fully automatic (an audible groan can be heard when switching between the two). Upon depleting the weapon's "magazine" (typically 60 shots), it takes between 3-5 days to regrow a new supply of ammunition. Attempts to remove the magazine have resulted in failure—it seems to be permanently attached to the weapon.
SCP-127 does not seem capable of reproduction at this time (scans have shown no apparent reproductive organs) and requires no sustenance beyond water, calcium, and protein.
SCP-127 was originally located in the house of a Mr. James █████████████. Mr. █████████████ was found dead from a heart attack on the night of November 17, 1991. Coroner's reports state that Mr. █████████████ died sometime in the morning of November 8th, but was not noticed missing until more than a week later. No complications or unusual circumstances were found to lead to his death. Due to his extensive gun collection, the ATF and FBI were notified to collect his weapons. SCP-127 was discovered during testing and cataloging, and was promptly collected by SCP Agents.
Addendum: Reclassified as Safe ██/██/199█.

« SCP-126 | SCP-127 | SCP-128 »


Item #: SCP-128
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-128 is to be held in a windowless containment chamber with blast-proof doors and walls and a ventilation system that maintains Class 100 cleanroom conditions inside. The interior of the containment chamber is to be monitored remotely by cameras welded in place with protective grating. The speakers and laser monitoring system must be similarly welded into place and protected with grating. The entry to SCP-128's containment chamber must include an antechamber with a second locked door that cannot be viewed from the chamber door.
Personnel entering the test chamber for any reason must wear ballistic armor and must not bring any loose item inside the chamber. All required equipment must be rigidly mounted to the armor. Interference with the laser monitoring system or the central wheel is forbidden unless required for maintenance.
In the center of the containment chamber, a wheel must be mounted to a concrete pedestal and allowed to spin freely. Should the wheel be measured to spin at less than 4,000 rpm at any time, all personnel are required to evacuate the containment chamber and foam nozzles will be deployed.

ARCHIVED CONTAINMENT PROCEDURES - FOR LOG PURPOSES ONLY

FOLLOW ABOVE PROCEDURES - DO NOT ATTEMPT BELOW

SCP-128 is to be kept in a chamber measuring at least 10 m x 10 m x 5 m with walls and door armored in 5 cm steel plate. All personnel who enter the containment room must wear full suits of heavy body armor, including ballistic plates. All loose objects of mass greater than 5 kg are strictly prohibited. Clothing and related items are generally considered safe, as the entity appears to be incapable of distinguishing these from their wearers. Writing utensils, loose change, and other trinkets present considerable hazards to personnel and should therefore be used sparingly never enter the containment chamber.
All items are to be cleared from room via suction before any personnel will be permitted to enter. Once personnel have exited, SCP-128 is to be given small objects, both to study its behavior and to alleviate boredom (if applicable). In the event of escape, the surrounding area will be evacuated and locked down, possibly followed by attempts to herd SCP-128 back into its enclosure. Past experience suggests that the latter is unnecessary, as the entity has shown no apparent desire to vacate the premises and will eventually return of its own accord.

Description: SCP-128 is an immaterial source of kinetic energy which can be conferred upon any nonliving solid material within line of sight of the source. The source itself is motile, with a tendency to remain along the walls or at the central wheel of the containment chamber. The line of sight is blocked by any opaque material, including lead, steel, or even single sheets of paper, but not transparent materials such as ballistic glass. Opaque radiolucent materials will contain SCP-128's range of effect, suggesting that transmission of energy occurs at visible light wavelengths, but darkness does not prevent transmission of kinetic energy.
Any loose nonliving materials within line of sight of SCP-128 are at risk of anomalous propulsion to hazardous velocities. Items under 100 g in mass have been observed to accelerate to velocities of up to 900 m/s in a period of 0.1 second, similar in force to machine gun fire. Analysis of the mass and velocity of every object undergoing acceleration indicates that the system of affected objects contains a constant linear momentum of 2,500 kg m/s, anomalously unconstrained by direction. It is therefore advisable to have many heavier items available to the object instead of fewer, lighter items.
Despite SCP-128's invisible, immaterial form, it has been determined that the entity cannot be compressed into a space under a 2 cm radius sphere. Such compression with opaque materials, however, is not advised, as dust particles within the space will be excited, generating extreme heat, potentially rupturing the compression container explosively.
SCP-128 arbitrarily chooses which items to accelerate, with a slight statistical preference for new objects over older ones. Despite the existence of some form of acceleration choosing, tests do not indicate an active sentience directing the choice, with one exception. The object does not accelerate "living" material, with its own parameters regarding what is considered "living." People or robots moving of their own accord are not accelerated, nor is any part that is rigidly attached. Dead or unconscious people and animals are also not accelerated. Unmoving but conscious test subjects report a light "tugging" in the presence of SCP-128, which immediately stops at the first sign of movement or animal-like characteristics. Plants and fungi, alive or dead, are similarly not accelerated. Unpowered robots, however, are susceptible to acceleration.
Addendum 128-1: Recovery Log
SCP-128 was recovered from a private home in ███████, ██. Reports of telekinesis and random anomalous kinetic activity had been previously confirmed by field agents, and MTF Mu-13 ("Ghostbusters") was called in to isolate and capture the anomaly.

Control: Okay, Equipment check. Tranquilizer pistols?
Mu-13 Lead: All pistols loaded and checked.
Control: Ballistic armor?
Lead: Armor check.
Mu-13 Gamma: I'm not used to carrying this ordnance.
Control: It's standard issue for this sort of intangible. We had to dig deep in our files, had to look up old references. SOP on this dates back to 1968. The phenomenon was called a poltergeist back then.
Delta: Poltergeist? That is old. Type I or II?
Control: It could be a Type I, a telekinetic vector associated with a deceased person, but field agents said that there's considerable domestic strife in the home. It's most likely undifferentiated kinetic energy from a latent Bixby under extreme stress. Type II.
Lead: That's why containment involves the pistols. Tranq all inhabitants, and it should shut down the anomaly long enough for us to figure out whose astral it is. The standard EMP tools are for containment of an autonomous intangible, should it be Type I. Careful in there. Take no chances. Beta, get the parabolic microphone on the house. We need to identify inhabitants.
Beta: Mike online now.
POI-1: How many times do I have to tell you, Britney, clean your fucking room already! You're such a shitass slob!
POI-2: I did! It was spotless before I went to school! It was… Oh my god, Tyler, it was you, wasn't it, you little douche!
POI-3: Nuh-uh! Why would I want to step foot in your nasty-ass pigsty?
Gamma: Considerable domestic strife, you say?
Lead: Yeah. Just get in there and put them all to sleep. They could use the nap. And be careful with loose objects. Confirming three targets. Move out!
<Sounds of leaving the containment vehicle, approaching the house, and bashing in the door. Sound of tranquilizer pistol being fired.>
Delta: The son's down.
Lead: He looks young. Beta, check his vitals, make sure the drugs aren't too much of a shock to his system. The darts are calibrated to someone at least 40 kilos. Gamma, Delta, find the father and daughter now!
<Footsteps through the house. Sound of tranquilizer pistol.>
Gamma: Father's down. Reaching for a shotgun, glad we got to him first.
Lead: Good work, Gamma. Delta, find the daughter?
Delta: Tracked her to her bedroom. There's stuff everywhere, here, like a tornado ripped through here. Shades are pulled. She's got a pet hamster, but I don't see her. Trying the closet.
Lead: Careful, Delta, that's probably the source of the poltergeist activity.
Delta: Roger that, I just got hit in the face with a pillow!
Lead: Quick, Gamma, Delta needs backup!
<Screams heard. Sound of wood splintering. Sound of tranquilizer pistol firing.>
Delta: Daughter is down! Repeat, Daughter is down! Chair just got thrown against the wall, bookshelf falling over! Activity increasing! Marbles! She has marbles! Ow!
Lead: We got a Type I! Get out of the room, Delta! Dammit, just - OW! Everybody out!
Delta: Grab my hand and pull! It's - Wait! It's the hamster! It's a fucking tornado hamster! Tranqing the hamster!
Lead: Delta, NO! The darts aren't calibrated!
<Sound of tranquilizer pistol firing.>
Delta: Hamster down! Why aren't you stopping! I tranqed your -
<Sound of [DATA EXPUNGED]>
Lead: Everybody out! Delta down! Close the doors! Get ready for Type I containment!
<End Log>
Closing Notes: EMP deployment for Type I poltergeist containment functioned as expected, but failed to contain the anomaly. Mu-13 Gamma backed the MTF truck through the residence wall into the daughter's bedroom and opened the back doors. When the anomaly was observed to be inside the truck, the doors were shut and backup was called to tow the truck with accelerated debris in the armored trailer. Cover story of tornado striking the house was released.

Addendum 128-2: Principal Researcher's Notes

Principal Researcher: Dr. Cordelia Argent
Subject: SCP-128
Despite what the recovery log would say, this is not a poltergeist. Poltergeists are an obsolete term, anyway. This is not a spirit or a consciousness as we might think of the term. It can't pass through walls or the like. This is a source of kinetic energy. I've updated the description to show this. It's hard to say what, precisely, it is, but it appears to be best thought of as a hole through which a constant momentum enters this universe. How this is accomplished is still the subject of further tests.
In addition, the hamster did not have direct control over the phenomenon. If the hamster had conscious control, then the phenomenon would have ceased with its termination. Instead, if we continue the analogy of this being a hole, then the hamster was a valve covering the hole, which could be opened or closed to allow in more or less momentum. This "valve" appears to have been "stuck open."
So all the talk about us having the ghost of a telekinetic hamster in containment should stop. It's inaccurate.

          scratch notes only - please delete - Dr. C. Argent

          scratch notes only - please delete - Dr. C. Argent

CArgent: Hi Rod, are you there?
RodArg: Hi Cordie, yes I am. Congrats on your promotion! How are things?
CArgent: Okay. But I've been put in charge of 128, and its containment is stressing me out!
RodArg: What's that? Can you send me the file?
CArgent: Yeah, hold on.
<==sending scp128.scp==>
RodArg: Got it. So it's some kind of kinetic energy entity? Sounds like just your sort of thing, Dr. Anomalous Physics.
CArgent: Ha ha, very funny. Yes, I've figured out it's a field of constant momentum without a center of mass. Essentially you treat the momentum of the system as a scalar constant instead of a vector, independent of direction. Simple enough, mathematically, but it does mean that the energy in the kinetic system is constantly fluctuating and being added to, to maintain the constant scalar momentum. It's supposed to be modulated up and down, but apparently it was under control of a hamster, and when the hamster died, the field got stuck at up.
RodArg: So what's the issue about containment? There are procedures here.
CArgent: They're ridiculous! It's basically "give it toys but take them away whenever someone enters the chamber just so it can fire the researcher's clipboard through his skull"! I've had to fill the room with foam pillows and send janitorial D-class in there in full battle armor just to clear the body away! The site director says that's not the first time, and I just…
CArgent: What am I supposed to do?
RodArg: You need a constant linear momentum without center-of-mass vector positioning in the containment chamber? And the controller entity of the momentum field demonstrates some familiarity with objects?
CArgent: Yes.
RodArg: It's a hamster. Give it a wheel.
CArgent: It's not a ham- …That's why you're the biologist and I'm the physicist. Thank you.
RodArg: You're still the smart one with the promotion, sis. You're welcome.

« SCP-127 | SCP-128 | SCP-129 »


Item #: SCP-129
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-129 is at large in the world and infects large numbers of humans and animals daily. As such, containment efforts are focused on treatment of infected individuals and on eradication of any or all member species of SCP-129. Although at least 98% of the world's population harbors a natural immunity to one or more species of SCP-129, outbreaks that reach Stage Three or higher (described below) must be contained as quickly as possible, with infected individuals quarantined under highest-risk contagion protocols. See Document #129-A-1 for further information.
In the event of Stage Four or Stage Five outbreak, in addition to the above procedures, [DATA EXPUNGED], as described in Document #129-A-2 (Level 4 clearance required).
Description: SCP-129 is a series of at least ██ different species of fungus that can infect any animal with mucosal membranes. Infection by SCP-129 can pass through up to five stages (depending on exposure to further member species of SCP-129, individual resistance, and other factors), with each stage of infection facilitating progression to the next stage by weakening the individual's resistance to subsequent infection.
Due to a combination of historical events, most humans and animals are naturally immune to SCP-129-04 through SCP-129-██. Therefore, outbreaks of Stage Three infections are quite rare, but have the potential for widespread infection if not swiftly isolated and contained. All known cases of SCP-129 have followed the below five-stage progression, although [DATA EXPUNGED], possibly due to mutation.

Stage One: The first organism, SCP-129-01, attacks the victim's mucosal membranes, multiplying quickly and unobtrusively. A faint yeast-like smell might be detected, but beyond that, SCP-129-01 is asymptomatic. A second organism (SCP-129-02) can then infect the host, causing the victim to experience symptoms identical to those of acute viral nasopharyngitis (the common cold). The decreased efficacy of the host's immune system due to infection from SCP-129-02 allows SCP-129-01 to become entrenched further.
SCP-129-01 and -02 generally leave the host body within four to six days. Though both species are fairly widespread, and most of the population has little to no protection against either organism, they pose little danger themselves, except to facilitate infection by SCP-129-03.
Stage Two: Although SCP-129-03 is usually stopped by natural mucus, Stage One infection changes the composition of the host's mucus so that the host is significantly less resistant to SCP-129-03. Once established in the host, SCP-129-03 alters the host's mucus, lymph, and blood such that other species of SCP-129 can thrive in the host.
Symptoms of Stage Two infection include greatly increased mucus production, a nagging cough due to excess phlegm, a lingering low-grade fever, increased sweating and salivating, a somewhat increased preference for vegetables, and the complaint that certain fruit juices 'taste odd'. Infection by SCP-129-03 generally lasts anywhere from two weeks to four months before being driven out by the immune system, unless the host enters Stage Three infection. At least ██% of all humans have experienced Stage Two infection at some point, but due to natural immunities (in spite of Stage Two infection) and the relative rarity of Stage Three species, less than █.██% of that ██% have passed into Stage Three.
Stage Three: In the absence of SCP-129-03, nearly all animals are immune to the three species that cause Stage Three infection. However, a small number of Stage Two victims can become infected with one or more of these species; in these cases, the fungal infections become entrenched in the host and cannot be removed without extraordinary measures.
Individually, the three Stage Three species elicit different symptoms in the host:

SCP-129-04 causes increased tear production (lachrymation), slight yellowing of the eyes, [DATA EXPUNGED].
SCP-129-05 [DATA EXPUNGED], causing the host's nails to thicken and significantly increasing earwax production.
SCP-129-06 [DATA EXPUNGED], in particular, bright yellow urine and small pellets in the host's feces, both of which smell strongly of yeast.

However, a victim who becomes infected with all three of these species will, within hours, develop flu-like (or worse) symptoms and become bedridden for three to five weeks. Afterward, though the victim appears to have recovered fully, in actuality SCP-129 has spread throughout all systems in the host's body, marking passage into Stage Four.
Stage Four: Victims who reach Stage Four appear generally healthy and indeed may be more lively and energetic than at any time since first contracting SCP-129. In actuality, SCP-129-01 through -06 have spread throughout the host's body, completely infiltrating the subject's immune, respiratory, circulatory, reproductive, [DATA EXPUNGED], and central nervous systems.
Mycelia from SCP-129 species also permeate the host's skin and replace some percentage (up to ██%) of the host's hair. These hyphae, which are nearly indistinguishable from the host's natural hair, are used to propagate SCP-129 to other hosts; any potential host that comes into contact with shed-off hyphae has a 9█% chance of becoming infected with SCP-129. Hyphae seem to be equally contagious from any part of the host's body, although [DATA EXPUNGED] if sexually transmitted due to [DATA EXPUNGED].
Despite (or perhaps because of) increased susceptibility to SCP-129, Stage Four victims are much more resistant to viral and bacterial pathogens than uninfected subjects. All known subjects who have reached Stage Four have either progressed to Stage Five or died within ██ weeks.
Stage Five: Symptoms of Stage Five infection depend on a variety of factors, including the particular Stage Five species that are present, as well as genetic, physiological, environmental, and any number of unknown factors. However, as in Stage Four, all Stage Five victims are highly contagious and can infect victims who had previously shown complete immunity.
Notable manifestations of Stage Five symptoms:
February ████: Witnesses riding in a commuter train car in [DATA EXPUNGED] described a woman suddenly blowing up like a balloon and exploding, but instead of blood and viscera, the contents of the car were covered in spores and filaments. Analysis later showed that the victim was infected with SCP-129-09, SCP-129-14, and SCP-129-██. All persons and objects in the affected area were quarantined, euthanized, and incinerated per protocol; ███ casualties, including ██ Foundation personnel.
May ████: Following a string of disappearances in [DATA EXPUNGED] were tracked to a cave several kilometers from town. Inside, investigators found several pulsating mounds of flesh and vegetative material; although most were unrecognizable, a few of the entities retained some human characteristics and were identified as some of the missing citizens.
Researchers theorize that victims of this combination of SCP-129 would interact normally with the populace, attempting to infect others, until, after a period of time, they would come to the cave (how and why they were brought here is not known). Upon arrival, the victims would be changed into the pulsating vegetative flesh mounds, which appear to be organisms modified to provide a long-term source of sustenance for SCP-129. Analysis suggests the flesh mounds could potentially live for ███ years. Autopsy revealed the presence of SCP-129-10, SCP-129-11, SCP-129-14, and SCP-129-██. Site quarantined and sanitized per protocol; ██ known casualties.
[DATA EXPUNGED]

« SCP-128 | SCP-129 | SCP-130 »


Item #: SCP-130
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-130 is to be staffed by twelve D-Class, six security agents (level 2/130) and one researcher (level 3/130) twice per day, starting at one half hour before local sunrise and sunset. All staff are to be appropriately uniformed and Caucasian only. When not staffed, two security agents will remain in the lobby, and two additional agents will patrol within the building. Agents are advised not to prevent people from entering the lobby, but to notify MTF Alpha-4 (“Pony Express”) to intercept anyone who receives mail or a package.
Twice per day, bundles (SCP-130-2) will appear in the mail room. The parcels within the bundles are to be sorted by uniformed staff into appropriate bags and placed in a designated vehicle for transport to Site-██. Should mail arrive with the following addresses, [REDACTED], follow procedure Franklin-Sixteen, detailed in Addendum 130-2. Otherwise, mail will be checked under standard practices for any items of interest.
Objects are not to be placed for outgoing mail unless certified orders are given by O5-█. Procedure Franklin-Seventeen outlines the protocol used in these cases. Should anyone else enter SCP-130 to use the outgoing mail slot, they are to be permitted to do so, then intercepted by MTF Alpha-4 as soon as possible for questioning. The incident is to be reviewed through security tapes and the outgoing mail watched for in subsequent bundles and checked through the list of previous parcels delivered.
Description: SCP-130 is a post office in ████████, South Africa, constructed in 18██. SCP-130 had been closed in 19██ and left abandoned for ██ years. The building is in excellent condition for its age, and maintains itself without human intervention, including moderate structural repairs. SCP-130 has been designated a Historic Site through an agreement with the South African government.
Five times per week at local sunrise and sunset, several bags and boxes will appear in the mail room. The bundles, designated SCP-130-2, will show only on weekdays, with the exception of current postal holidays for █████ ████. Bundles are to be handled as per Special Containment Procedures as above.
Inside of the lobby, along with the post office boxes, is a slot labeled for Outgoing Mail. The slot is able to accept packages up to 40 cm wide and 6 cm high, with no apparent limit for length. Once inserted into the slot, packages disappear, and will eventually turn up in the outgoing mail bundles, if they have not done so previously.
Addendum 130-1: SCP-130 came to the attention of the Foundation in 19██, when packages and letters began to be circulated bearing the postmark for the site. The parcels appeared in post offices throughout the world with correct postage for delivery either locally or internationally, depending on the parcel.
The parcels were often undeliverable, either to non-existent addresses or to recipients who were not at the address, and so ended up in dead letter offices. Various Foundation assets noted the odd postmark, and Mobile Task Force Alpha-4 mobilized to investigate. MTF Alpha-4 arrived in ████████ where they discovered the town had mostly been abandoned decades ago. The post office appeared to be in excellent condition, not only well-maintained, but clean.
While MTF Alpha-4 searched, bundles of mail appeared in the mail room. Agents searched the bundles and discovered a variety of letters, parcels, and packages, all with that day's date and the postmark for that post office. Agent ██████ attempted to open one of the parcels, which resulted in the agent vanishing from sight. Six days later, a package appeared in Site-██'s mail room. Inside of it was Agent ██████ and an envelope with a receipt for postage due. Agent ██████ had "Return to Sender" and "Postage Due" tattooed on ███ back, and was in a comatose state. Agent ██████ remained in that state until the envelope was delivered to SCP-130's Outgoing Mail slot, where upon the agent returned to consciousness with no recollection from the time of disappearance. Similar results also occurred when agents tried to take away or damage either the parcels or the post office itself.
Further investigation led to the current containment procedures, where Caucasian D-class personnel in █████ ████ uniforms circa 19██ sort through the mail when it appeared. Once processed and put in a marked █████ ████ vehicle, the mail can then leave the area unmolested. If the bundles are untouched, however, the bundles will vanish and later appear in the postal systems of the world in order to be delivered.
Addendum 130-2: Through examination of the mail parcels over the past ██ years, research has shown certain trends. Over ██ percent of the mail is of a mundane nature, except for the matter of the postmark. Exceptions to this are letters that were apparently unsent, for whatever reason, and temporally displaced letters. The former, while odd, will be destroyed in order to protect the nature of SCP-130. The latter will be examined and results submitted to [REDACTED]
Letters addressed to Foundation Sites or Personnel are to be sent to Site-██ where they will be reviewed by Department ██████. Reports shall be classified under Project ██████████, pending Overseer review.
Procedure Franklin-Sixteen: When mail is specifically addressed to [REDACTED], the mail is to be sealed in a case with active countermeasures and brought to the office of the present Level 5/130 supervisor. Mail will then be screened for possible explosive, chemical, biological, memetic or [REDACTED] threats. After screening, the mail will be opened and assessed. While no new artifacts requiring secure containment have arrived, the possibility cannot be ignored.
Mail either addressed to or intercepted by the Office is often temporally sensitive, and as such impact must be minimized to limit changes. The possibility of the information being used to alter present day events detrimentally must also be weighed. Using the information given by SCP-130 to alter events requires a two-thirds super-majority vote by the Overseers.
Examples of intercepted messages are stored within Document 130-1 and require level 4/130 to access.
Mail with the following code-phrase [REDACTED] are to be immediately delivered after screening, without being read by 5/130. After so doing, that code-phrase is to be invalidated, and the next one brought in line.
Procedure Franklin-Seventeen: All outgoing mail is to be sent with appropriate current postage for █████ ████ at the time of sending, and must be marked with the code-phrase [REDACTED]. The mail sent by this method is to be logged, then cross-checked with past parcels to insure temporal integrity.
Upon attempt at mailing should a receipt appear for postage due, the amount shall be placed in an envelope and put in the outgoing mail slot. The slot will accept the following currencies: Rands, Euros, and ██████████████. The use of counterfeit currencies will result in a lethal reaction by SCP-130 and an additional fine will be levied until mail can be sent again.
Addendum 130-3: After the end of apartheid, SCP-130 no longer restricts postal staff to be White Only.
Incident 130-6: On ██/█/19██, a package for one ████ ███ ██████ arrived with the address for a post office box at the site. Dr. █████, the researcher assigned to SCP-130, placed the parcel into the P.O.B. and waited. ████████████ minutes later, an unknown person identified as ████ ███ ██████ walked into the lobby. The subject appeared to be briefly puzzled, and walked over to the box. The locked box opened at his touch, and he expressed surprise at seeing the parcel with his name on it.
MTF Alpha-4, being on-site, was dispatched to investigate once the subject was out of sight of SCP-130, and subsequently interviewed. The subject had no plans to visit ████████ that day, but had felt an unexplained desire to go there while driving nearby to visit family in the area. Upon opening the package, [REDACTED]. A Class-A amnestic was administered to the subject and was released after memory insertion.

« SCP-129 | SCP-130 | SCP-131 »


SCP-131-A and SCP-131-B

Item #: SCP-131
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: No special safety procedures are to be taken with SCP-131-A and SCP-131-B. They are free to travel about Site-19 so long as they do not attempt to enter any restricted areas or attempt to leave the facility. Casual contact with the subjects is permitted, but it is recommended that such contact be kept to a minimum to prevent the creatures from forming an attachment to personnel. Hourly tabs are to be kept on subjects at all times; failure to account for their presence at these times constitutes a level one lockdown situation. Any report of abuse or mistreatment of the subjects will result in a harsh reprimand.
Description: SCP-131-A and SCP-131-B (affectionately nicknamed the "Eye Pods" by personnel) are a pair of teardrop-shaped creatures roughly 30 cm (1 ft) in height, with a single blue eye in the middle of their bodies. SCP-131-A is burnt orange in color while SCP-131-B is mustard yellow. At the base of each creature is a wheel-like protrusion which allows for locomotion, suggesting that the creatures may be biomechanical in origin. The subjects can move surprisingly fast, covering over 60 m (200 ft) in a matter of seconds. The subjects, however, lack a braking system, which has led to some rather spectacular, if not overly amusing, mishaps involving the creatures. The subjects have also shown the ability to climb sheer surfaces, and have gotten lost in the air vents on more than one occasion.
The subjects seem to have the intelligence of common house cats and are insatiably curious. Most of the time they simply roll around the facility, observing personnel at work and catching peeks at other Safe class SCPs. The subjects seem to be able to communicate with each other via an untranslatable high-pitched babbling. The subjects have never been observed to blink, even in laboratories when the subjects have been videotaped for over 18 consecutive hours.
The subjects seem to respond well to any affection given to them and will quickly bond to the giver of said affection, much in the same way a puppy bonds with a human being. They will follow anyone or anything they've made a bond with anywhere, even into normally restricted areas. Although curious, the subjects can sense danger in their general vicinity, and if the object of their bond begins to approach something they register as dangerous (e.g., Euclid or Keter class objects) they will swarm around their bonded companion's feet (or appropriate extremities) while babbling in a panicked tone, as if to warn them. Because of the daily dangers faced by Site-19 staff in dealing with Euclid and Keter class objects, it is recommended that staff avoid making attempts to bond with the subjects, as it can pose a distraction during delicate operations and experiments and may pose a danger to the subjects themselves (see Addendum 131-1). If the subjects are ignored by their bonded target long enough, they will eventually lose interest and return to their normal activities.
It should be noted that the subjects require no real care or maintenance from the site staff. They do not eat, leave droppings, or even sleep. It would seem that the only sustenance they require is visual stimulation (although this requires further study to verify).
Subjects SCP-131-A and SCP-131-B were found in a cornfield outside ████████████ in the year 19██. They were promptly transported to Site-19 via [DATA EXPUNGED] and were then downgraded to Safe class and given free rein across the site once it became clear they were not broadcasting what they saw to any hostile foreign powers.
Addendum 131-1: During an incident that took place on ██/██/████, the subjects followed one of the cleaning staff on routine cleaning of the container of SCP-173. After their normal attempts to warn the cleaner of the danger were ignored, the creatures rushed into the container in front of him and the other two personnel on duty. Once inside, the staff members observed the subjects sitting in front of SCP-173 and watching it intently, as if aware that it could only move if unobserved. The cleaners ignored the presence of the subjects and continued with the bi-weekly cleaning as per standard procedures. When the cleaning crew left, the subjects did as well, rolling backward slowly and never taking their eyes off of SCP-173. Current applications of SCP-131-A and SCP-131-B as "wardens" for SCP-173 (and perhaps other SCP which require constant observation, such as SCP-689) are being considered.

« SCP-130 | SCP-131 | SCP-132 »


Item #: SCP-132
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: All instances of SCP-132 are to be cataloged and etched with an appropriate designating mark. SCP-132 is to be stored at Containment Sector-██ when not in use. No special clearance is needed to have access to files relating to SCP-132 and instances of SCP-132 may be requisitioned for office decoration in any non-Command Foundation installation. After incident 132-01, no instances of SCP-132 are to leave Containment Area 23 without approval by the Sector Director. Following the incident detailed in Addendum 03, standard classification procedures are reinstated on SCP-132.
Description: SCP-132 takes the form of a series of ███ glass tetrahedrons, each with a side length of 10.3 centimeters. Each instance of SCP-132 appears to contain a patch of desert sand. Occasionally scorpions and other desert creatures enter the confines of an instance of SCP-132 as if it were a continuous piece of desert. Creatures within SCP-132 have shown no awareness of the existence of anything outside of the object and attempts to influence the area within SCP-132 have failed.
Review of observed animal life within SCP-132 has proven inconsistent. Clusters of contiguous instances have been internally consistent and have been confirmed to display areas of every major desert. No method of pinpointing exact locations has been discovered; staff observing SCP-132 are advised to be on the lookout for any defining features that could aid in this endeavor.

Test Log SCP-132:
Procedure: SCP-132-01 rotated and placed on an upper side
Result: No apparent change in SCP-132-01
Procedure: SCP-132-01 inverted and placed in a cradle
Result: No apparent change in SCP-132-01
Procedure: SCP-132-01 shaken vigorously
Result: A few grains of sand in SCP-132-01 shift as though picked up by a light wind.
Procedure: SCP-132-01 shaken vigorously
Result: No apparent change in SCP-132-01
Note: I guess it was just the wind, better to be sure anyway. -Dr. Peterson
Procedure: A corner of SCP-132-01 is filed for several strokes
Result: The filed corner is scuffed in a consistent manner to normal glass
Procedure: Heat is applied to the side of SCP-132-01 with a blowtorch
Result: Heated side melts and a sizable hole is cut in SCP-132-01. Desert scene remains.
Note: I prodded around in there after it cooled and only felt glass; it would appear that SCP-132 only shows an illusory desert. I suppose it could be showing a real place but I have no idea how we could confirm this or locate where that may be. -Dr. Peterson

Incident Log 132-01: Dr. R███████, currently stationed at Area-██, reports knocking SCP-132-71 off her desk. Upon impact with the ground, SCP-132-71 shattered and the office of Dr. R███████ was buffeted by extreme winds. Other owners of instances of SCP-132 confirm that the area shown by SCP-132-71 and adjoining instances was experiencing a sandstorm.
Addendum 132-01: Careful observation of SCP-132 has found that many instances are contiguous, the largest 'section' composed of sixteen (16) different instances. Speculation over the existence of additional unsecured instances has been raised.
Addendum 132-02: Administration has deemed the possible risk of unsecured instances of SCP-132 existing to be negligible and set retrieval efforts to lowest priority. Keywords relating to SCP-132 have been added to routine search protocols.
Addendum 132-03: A large box arrived for Dr. Richardson at his home with a return address of [REDACTED], a Foundation front. No faculty associated with [REDACTED] report any association with said box and it does not appear on any [REDACTED] records. Inside were thirty-seven (37) uncatalogued instances of SCP-132. Twelve (12) were contiguous with previously documented instances of SCP-132 and three (3) instances which had no known shared edges were brought into contiguity. Of particular note were eighteen (18) instances which appear to display Martian soil, thirteen (13) of which were found to be contiguous.
Addendum 132-04: At Dr. L████████'s suggestion, notes were taken over a year on the light cycle of SCP-132 clusters. Although imprecise, the Foundation now has a rough set of coordinates for various SCP-132 viewing locations. No missions need be sent to confirm these locations but teams passing near are encouraged to assist Dr. Peterson in pinpointing coordinates.

« SCP-131 | SCP-132 | SCP-133 »


Item #: SCP-133
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: All instances of SCP-133 are stored in their original shipping crates, which are to be stored within a standard Safe-class storage container at Site 19. Experimentation with SCP-133 may only be performed with prior written permission from at least two (2) Level 4 Personnel.
Description: SCP-133 are a set of six hundred and thirteen (613) black, circular pieces of a waxy, paper-like material 5 cm in diameter. When placed against a solid surface and rubbed, SCP-133 will instantaneously "transfer" to the surface and create a circular hole. Testing has shown that SCP-133 is capable of penetrating up to 61 cm of structural grade steel, though the exact degree of penetration is reduced by extremely smooth or highly dense materials. Examination of holes created by SCP-133 show that they are superficially smooth, but exhibit tool marks consistent with that of extremely fine boring implements at a microscopic level. The exact mechanism by which SCP-133 operates is still under investigation.
SCP-133 came to the Foundation's attention following a string of high-profile burglaries in the city of ████ ████ ████, ██. Suppressed surveillance footage and forensic evidence were brought to the attention of embedded Foundation agents in local law enforcement agencies, and upon attempting to apprehend the culprit, subject placed an instance of SCP-133 over his chest and [DATA EXPUNGED]. Local law enforcement officers [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] were administered Class A amnestics and released.
The original shipping crate in which SCP-133 was found has been shown to be immune to SCP-133's effect despite being composed of ordinary wood, and has been incorporated into the containment procedures for SCP-133.
Addendum 133-01: Shipping Label Found With SCP-133

Instant Holes™
a product of The Factory
800 Units

« SCP-132 | SCP-133 | SCP-134 »


SCP-134 under normal lighting conditions

Item #: SCP-134
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-134 is currently contained within a specially outfitted humanoid-containment cell, measuring six (6) meters by eight (8) meters. Since SCP-134 is completely blind, special safety precautions must be taken with the room's furnishings. SCP-134 is reasonably accustomed to the position of all objects in the cell and navigates mostly from memory. SCP-134's room currently contains:

One (1) single bed with additional mattress padding.
One (1) pink bed set including sheets, comforter, and pillow with "Hello Kitty" mascot print. (Note: though blind, SCP-134 is able to feel the printed pattern and prefers it.)
One (1) wardrobe and one (1) chest of drawers containing clothes in Youth Extra-Small. All drawers are to be labeled in Braille and raised-print English.
One (1) dollhouse with dolls and interior furnishings.
Eight (8) stuffed animals (three cats, two dogs, a giraffe, a dolphin, and a panda)
A selection of children's literature in Braille.
One (1) chair and one (1) table.
A craft station with modeling clay and building blocks.

SCP-134 may request additional items, all of which must be approved by a staff member with Level 3 clearance or higher. If any items are added to the room, SCP-134's handlers must be informed ahead of time to prepare her for the addition of something new to the environment. SCP-134 is to be tutored on a regular basis both in general education appropriate for the subject's age and in Braille.
Description: SCP-134 seems to be an Asian girl between the ages of █ and █, with short black hair and a slight build. The subject seems normal in most respects and has all the biological requirements of a human child (food, sleep, etc). However, where SCP-134's eyes should be are two black pits, covered by a transparent membrane similar in appearance to a human eye's membrane; ophthalmological testing has shown that the membranes are between 150 and 200 times more resilient than those of a normal, non-anomalous human. SCP-134 lacks eyelids and thus does not blink, nor can SCP-134 see anything through these black areas. Attempts to examine the back of SCP-134's eyeball have failed, as no retina can be seen. In normal lighting conditions, they appear completely black, but in darkness, very faint lights have been seen within them. Further study with long-exposure photography and light amplification revealed that the lights are actually stars and galaxies, visible as though SCP-134's eye sockets are somehow looking out into deep space. To date, no astronomical formations have been recognized, though research by staff astronomer Dr. ███████ is ongoing.
Sonar examination has revealed no unusual cavities within SCP-134's skull; however, [DATA EXPUNGED], confirming the presence of [DATA EXPUNGED] eye sockets being the local termini and intergalactic space being the remote termini. Parallax measurements indicate that the remote termini are between twenty (20) and two thousand (2000) meters apart, and are moving at between twenty (20) and forty (40) times the speed of light; this does not appear to be linked to SCP-134's position, movement, or metabolism.
Spectrographic analysis indicates that the remote termini periodically [DATA EXPUNGED] new location; the cause of this is not yet known. The shortest interval measured between shifts was six days, while the longest was five weeks. As of yet, no termini shifts have been observed in progress.
SCP-134 has not shown any hostile behavior, and seems unaware of any unnatural condition. SCP-134 shows behavioral symptoms similar to those seen in high-functioning autistic children, including patterned behavior and resistance to change. As such, SCP-134 has been assigned a childhood development specialist to help work with these issues; the specialist has suggested that proper childhood development requires a personal name, and has nicknamed SCP-134 "Stella". SCP-134 has learned to associate being referred to by her SCP number with being subjected to physical tests, and becomes upset and less cooperative when this is done by individuals who have previously referred to her as "Stella"; consequently, personnel are urged to not refer to her by name unless they wish their interactions with SCP-134 to be limited to interview sessions.
When questioned about her eyes, SCP-134 claims no knowledge of any deformation, even when allowed to feel normal human eyes for comparison.
SCP-134 has to date volunteered no information about parentage or identity, though when acquired by the Foundation, SCP-134 was called "████". SCP-134 has proven docile and cooperative, and as such staff should display all the normal courtesy they would to any other guest. SCP-134 was taken into Foundation custody based on reports of a deformed child left at the ██████████ orphanage in ███████, Yokohama, Japan. SCP-134 has been in Foundation custody since 20██, at which time orphanage staff claimed SCP-134 was █ years old. Since then, SCP-134 has learned conversational English, in addition to the Japanese already known, and has demonstrated facility with Braille, though instruction is ongoing.

« SCP-133 | SCP-134 | SCP-135 »


Item #: SCP-135
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-135 is to be contained in a partitioned plexiglass chamber at least 7 metres to a side. All sections are to be completely sealed off from one another to avoid cross-contamination. SCP-135 itself is to be in a central section with 1.0 to 1.5 square metres of floorspace, with a 5 cm-wide runoff trench around the perimeter that drains into a tank, the contents of which are to be piped into an incinerator at the end of every week. The remaining space in the containment chamber is to be used to house 5 chemical harvesting vats, one vat per partitioned section. A single access corridor is to lead from SCP-135's section to outside the chamber. No personnel are permitted within SCP-135's effect radius; all maintenance, taking of samples, etc., are to be carried out by remote-control robots. Disciplinary measures need not be taken against personnel that violate this rule, because the direct consequences of SCP-135's effects have been deemed consequence enough. Robots are to be maintained and cleaned by Level 1 personnel.
Once a week, SCP-135's section is to be hosed down with Solution U82-B until only its outer coating is visible. In emergencies, flamethrowers may be employed to reduce mass quickly.
Due to the potential of catastrophic effects in the event of cross contamination, at no point are SCP-329 or SCP-427 to be contained within the same facility as SCP-135.
Description: SCP-135 is a human female between █ and ██ years of age that promotes rapid, uncontrolled cell growth within a radius of 2.25 metres from itself. It remains rigidly in the foetal position, and has never been observed to move. SCP-135's effect is carcinogenic to animal tissue and induces malignant neoplasia in plant and fungal tissues in 100% of recorded exposure cases, with severity and disorganization increasing exponentially with closer proximity to SCP-135. Within 0.1 metres, cells will not die, even under conditions where they would normally, causing SCP-135 to be steadily buried under a continually-growing mass of plant matter, fungal matter, and micro-organisms. This “undying” state extends to SCP-135's cells as well. SCP-135 has been shown to lack an epidermis, instead having a crust of mixed plant and fungal matter that has incorporated itself onto SCP-135's skin, interspersed with tumours and patches of raw dermis.
SCP-135's lungs, diaphragm, and intestines are ruptured, and growth extends into the chest and abdominal cavities. It has been fitted with wide-diameter plastic tubes for use in draining excess biomatter.
The Foundation came into possession of SCP-135 after it and a surrounding ball of growth rolled off a cliff in the ███████ Mountains, crushing a hiker on the trail below. Class B amnestics were administered to the civilians and law enforcement personnel involved, and the incident was covered up as having been caused by a pair of male goats that slipped and fell off the cliff edge during a dominance battle. Later examination of the growth revealed the partial skeleton of an adult human female with osteosarcomata covering ██% of it. SCP-135 was found in the space between the skeleton's ribcage and pelvis, at the time between █ and █ years old. A viable DNA sample was recovered from the bone marrow of the pelvis, and testing confirmed with ██.█% certainty that the skeleton belonged to SCP-135's biological mother.
All personnel involved with SCP-135's retrieval and initial testing were later diagnosed with various forms of cancer. Out of the ██ affected, only █ are still alive at the time of this writing.
Attempts to terminate SCP-135 with sustained gunfire, flamethrowers, caustic materials, vacuum, and extreme pressure have all failed. Further termination attempts are forbidden by order of O5-██, due to SCP-135's potential uses in cultivating useful bacteria. See Document 135-a for information on the current contents of partitioned vats.
EEGs confirm full brain activity. No attempts to communicate with SCP-135 are to be made at this time.

« SCP-134 | SCP-135 | SCP-136 »


Item #: SCP-136
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: No extraordinary containment procedures are necessary. SCP-136 is to be kept in a standard 10 m x 10 m x 10 m concrete containment room. SCP-136-1 is to be kept in a locked transparent plastic case, measuring 0.5 m x 0.5 m x 0.5 m, placed on a table in the center of the room. Video surveillance is unnecessary when SCP-136 is not being actively examined. As of incident I-136-c (see Incident Reports), only Class D personnel may enter the SCP-136 containment chamber more than once in any thirty day period without special authorization from Director ██████.
Description: SCP-136 has no effect on non-humans.
SCP-136 describes two phenomena. SCP-136-1 is of variable appearance, but generally manifests as a crude clay, wood, metal, or cloth doll, usually identifiable as female and usually between 10 and 30 cm in length. The doll appears as male in approximately 10% of viewings.
SCP-136-1 has no unusual properties that can be measured empirically. Mass spectrometry of samples taken from the doll return typical results for its present material. When the doll is damaged to the extent where it no longer appears human - usually upon removal of the head or all limbs - it vanishes completely and reappears in a new configuration within a one (1) meter radius. Testing of complete vaporization pending.
SCP-136-2 manifests only when SCP-136-1 is viewed for approximately twenty (20) minutes, though like SCP-136-1, it has a somewhat variable form. The first indication of SCP-136-2's presence is a sound of laughter of a gender corresponding to the appearance of SCP-136-1. Personnel who hear the laughter report it as sounding “creepy” or “scary.” The laughter lasts for an interval of anywhere from five seconds to two minutes, after which is a period of silence, usually of about five minutes. After the period of silence, SCP-136-2 appears along with the abrupt disappearance of SCP-136-1.
SCP-136-2, is an incorporeal nude or partially nude figure corresponding to the gender of SCP-136-1. SCP-136-2, ranging in size from 1.9 to 2.1 meters, is always posed in a provocative manner and moves through the air at a slow walking pace (0.2 m/s) towards the subject(s). If more than one subject is present, each will see the form as moving towards him or herself. As it approaches, the volume of the laughter increases. By the time SCP-136-2 is within 1 to 2 meters, the subject invariably has gone rigid in fear, collapsed, or backed up until he or she hits a wall. SCP-136-2 usually remains stiff until it is within approximately 5 cm of the subject, whereupon it will scream once before vanishing. Ten to fifteen seconds later, SCP-136-1 will reappear in its previous location in a different configuration.
The apparition has a very disturbing appearance. Its mouth is far too wide, frozen in a rictus of pain and arousal. It will occasionally bare its teeth or lick its lips. Its irises take up almost the entire sclera of its eyes, which appear mad and bloodshot. If female, it will have an absurdly narrow waist and large breasts. The experience of viewing SCP-136-2 is profoundly upsetting and has universally caused night terrors for up to six months in every single subject, possibly as a result of its psychic intrusion. After a viewing, most subjects are unable to leave the containment room without assistance. Interestingly, Class D personnel with a history of sexual deviancy still experience a strong negative reaction to 136-2.
At no point has SCP-136-2 been observed to move past the boundaries of its containment room. See Incident report I-136-a
Additional Information:
SCP-136 was recovered from the children's bedroom of an abandoned house in [DATA EXPUNGED] that was reportedly haunted. A routine sweep of such reported homes by Foundation personnel discovered SCP-136 when Agent ████ fell from a second story window, screaming.
Incident Reports:
Incident I-136-a, ██/██/19██
Dr. Simon was the twenty-fifth subject to observe 136-2, and the fourth to do so voluntarily. The viewing proceeded in the usual manner with no anomalies. Approximately two hours after viewing 136-2, Dr. Simon, who was in the break room with several other researchers, screamed and dropped his coffee mug. He incoherently indicated that he could see 136-2 floating down the hall towards him. Dr. Morris and Dr. Harrison restrained him, assuming that he had simply been badly shaken by the experience. After approximately two minutes, all present in the room fell unconscious. Dr. Soboya recovered first and proceeded to awaken her colleagues. Dr. Simon had lapsed into a coma, and died three days later.
— Dr. Meyers requests reclassification to Keter class.
— Reclassification as Keter class denied. We cannot dismiss the possibility that the unfortunate incident wasn't caused by some other telepathic SCP.
Incident I-136-b, ██/██/20██
It happened again today. Agent ████ shoved a few Class D's into the room, and he was standing outside with █████. 136 finished doing its thing, and I was helping them drag the subjects out of the room when everything went black. I woke up to Agent █████ smacking me in the face and three Class D's in comas. This thing is killing people. We haven't learned anything new from it in ten years, and we can't use it. I request that we find a way to terminate 136, maybe get a psychic SCP in here with it. It's not like burning it will do anything.
— Dr. Meyers
Request for termination denied. 136 is proving valuable for enhanced interrogation.
Incident I-136-c, ██/██/20██
This is out of control now. You all saw what happened, hell, everyone in a thousand yards will never forget [DATA EXPUNGED], and the Class D in the room is gone and nobody knows how. At the very least, we need to do some more rigorous screening of the D's before sending them in, we would have found out that he was [DATA EXPUNGED] ahead of time. Thank God we've figured out what set it off, though. Request reclassification to Keter and permission for attempted termination of 136.
— Dr. Meyers
Request denied. Dr. Meyers is to be removed from administration of SCP-136. Disposition of 136 is to be given directly to Overseer ██████ and Dr. ███████ for exclusive use in enhanced interrogation.

« SCP-135 | SCP-136 | SCP-137 »


Item #: SCP-137
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-137 is to be kept in a locked room, with a hairbrush and posters depicting a country meadow to keep it placid and tractable. SCP-137 is to be fed three meals a day. Under no circumstances are any toys allowed to come within five hundred (500) meters of SCP-137.
Description: SCP-137 is an entity with the ability to possess a toy, gaining the physical properties, size, and shape of whatever it represents; for example, a teddy bear will become an actual bear, and behave accordingly. SCP-137 cannot possess any miscellaneous object, only toys. The observed range of SCP-137's possessive effect is two hundred fifty (250) meters, but until further testing has been accomplished, SCP-137 is assumed to have a maximum range of five hundred (500) meters from its position.
SCP-137 was first brought to Foundation attention after a series of bizarre deaths and incidents involving children. The deaths were determined to be too random to be a serial killer, and Foundation agents were sent in to investigate. It was located after an interview with a young girl suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, after a naked man had appeared in her bedroom. It was encountered in the same neighborhood in the form of a gorilla. SCP-137 was then tracked and finally captured when it possessed a stuffed pony doll in █████, ████, and was chased into the nearby wilderness. SCP-137 was tranquilized, and extracted to Site-19 by helicopter.
Testing has shown that SCP-137 takes on the characteristics of the toy it possesses, but only as a child might perceive it. A toy soldier becomes a violent, well-armed man. A toy gun fires bullets. A toy lion attacks and kills humans. However, it lacks true intelligence. It shows no sign of long-term memory, nor any capacity for learning or abstract thinking (See Interview 137-1). For more information, please refer to Experiment Log 137.
It is currently inhabiting a princess doll, of the ████████ ██████ line.
Addendum
Interview 137-1:
Interviewed: SCP-137
Interviewer: Dr. █████
Foreword: Interview took place to determine what SCP-137 is, and why and how it possesses toys.
<Begin Log>
Dr. █████: Good day.Dr. █████: No. Now, can you please tell me what you are?Dr. █████: Where did you come from?*Further questioning yielded similar results.*
<End Log>

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